PSY CH 144
by Lulu
Dohyun had only pulled his pants down slightly, so there was nothing much to fix with his clothes. But Jooyoung was another story. His pants, bunched at the ankles and dragged on the ground, were soiled with dust, and his shirt was severely wrinkled—he looked like he’d tumbled somewhere harshly.
Dohyun restrained his twitching hand and deliberately looked away from Jooyoung. The rustling sound continued to irritate his ears, but he steadfastly ignored it, numbly rubbing the back of his neck while staring at his phone.
Bzzz—
The app he had kept open for no reason shut off, and the name “Kang Sieun” appeared on the screen. Instinctively, he glanced at Jooyoung first. Their eyes met just as Jooyoung was brushing off his top and lifting his head. Jooyoung blinked innocently.
That caused Dohyun to falter. The humiliation he’d inflicted seemed to leave no trace on Jooyoung, whose face remained pure and unbroken. Jooyoung showed no sign of being shattered—only clarity.
“…”
If that face—unwounded by insult—finally crumpled… what would Dohyun feel then? Would that monstrous longing—whether for sexual release or destruction—finally be sated?
Just as his thumb hovered over the green button, Dohyun realized that Jooyoung’s forehead was unusually red. When he came to his senses, he found himself reaching out, brushing aside the damp strands of hair. Jooyoung’s round forehead was fully exposed.
As expected, he hadn’t seen it wrong. Up close, he could see Jooyoung’s pale skin flushed red. He must have gotten scraped from repeatedly hitting the wall.
“You…”
Dohyun was taken aback. Jooyoung usually yelped at the slightest pressure from Dohyun, not someone who endured pain silently. And yet, despite the reddened skin, he’d said nothing…
The situation suddenly felt surreal. Why was Jooyoung doing all this? Confusion began to sprout.
Lost in thought, Dohyun didn’t notice his phone slip from his hand until it was gone. The culprit was Jooyoung, who’d grabbed Dohyun’s phone and pressed the decline-call button without hesitation.
“Don’t sleep with her,” Jooyoung said, his forehead still red.
“In the future, if you can’t sleep, call me.”
Even after doing something so unlike himself, the person in question didn’t seem the least bit fazed. If anything, he looked confident, as if he couldn’t care less about Dohyun saying they should stop. It felt like the only one confused, constantly on edge, and growing more sensitive was Dohyun himself.
“…Ha.”
Dohyun had been confused, unable to understand why Jooyoung was going this far—but now, he was starting to get it. Right now, Jooyoung was acting out of sheer stubbornness. As if he were asking, “Even after all this, are you still going to ignore me? Can you really do that?”
The way he kept thinking only about himself to the very end made Dohyun feel sick to his stomach. He had a gut feeling that if this kept up, Jooyoung would end up dragging him along—one way or another.
“Give it back.”
“…”
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
Jooyoung was acting like a child: head shaking, clinging tightly to the phone with both hands.
Dohyun’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t take it anymore and turned away, face hardened.
“Where are you going?”
Startled, Jooyoung grabbed him.
“The phone!”
He shamelessly brought up the phone, even though he was the one who said he didn’t want to give it in the first place.
“Then you keep it. I’ll just say I lost it.”
“What?”
Dohyun continued, icy calm, “After all, I’m a retard who often loses things.”
The strength drained from Jooyoung’s hand that had been holding onto him. Dohyun strode briskly through the narrow alley.
“Dohyun-ah!”
After some distance, Jooyoung caught up and blocked his path. His face was pale as a corpse.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Jooyoung hastily shoved the phone into his hand. Then, he clasped both the phone and Dohyun’s hand tightly together. Through the contact of their skin, a faint trembling could be felt.
“I’ll give you the phone—so, so…”
“…”
“Don’t call yourself a retard.”
Jooyoung shook his head desperately, like a child who’d made a grave mistake. On the brink of tears, he bit his lip—though his chest heaved with silent sobs.
“Please? Dohyun-ah…”
Dohyun had always seen himself as someone broken in the head. He hated himself every single day. But now, Jooyoung was apologizing—for something Dohyun had called himself. His tearful eyes darted around restlessly, as if trying to gauge the mood.
Dohyun wished those tears would fall and soak Jooyoung’s whole face—and at the same time, he wanted to reach out and wipe them away. He didn’t want to be swept up in it all, and yet he also wanted to throw himself into it. Both desires coexisted inside Dohyun. And he couldn’t bring himself to choose either one.
He’d felt nauseous for a while now, like motion sickness that wouldn’t go away. Dohyun raised his free hand to cover his mouth. The breath against his palm was rough and hot. He couldn’t bear to keep looking at Jooyoung, so he abruptly turned his head away. Forcing himself to swallow, he barely managed to ease the nausea.
When there was no answer, Jooyoung grew anxious and began to fidget on his feet.
“But I—I hate it, Dohyun-ah.”
“…”
“I really hate seeing you with someone else.”
With a tearful face, he even shook his head as he whined, “I hate it so much.” His trembling shoulders, the back of his hand turned pale from how tightly he was gripping, and the pitiful whining rising from below—it all reached Dohyun’s senses completely, yet he still couldn’t believe it was real.
A memory flashed through his mind:
“We’re not even dating—so what does it matter?”
“Whether you sleep with her or not.”
Back then, Jooyoung had sneered, acting as if he was being bothered over something trivial. The face that had worn a smirk then and the one now, twisted as if about to cry, seemed like two entirely different people. Not only could he no longer hide his emotions, but he clung like a child, openly revealing himself as the weaker one. The Jooyoung who once looked down on others with his back straight and pride intact was no longer here.
He was almost a different person.
At that moment, shock registered in Dohyun’s eyes.
He finally realized the source of the constant feeling out of place, the nausea-inducing discomfort.
He recognized himself in Jooyoung—his former self, crumbling and longing for affection.
“Just like me a little…”
That wasn’t a confession—it was begging. That Hwang Dohyun before was clearly reflected over Jooyoung now. It felt as if he were mimicking him. A mix of humiliation and misery tore violently through his chest. The moment he imagined how his past self must have looked to Jooyoung, an uncontrollable fury swept over him. He wanted to crush all of Jooyoung’s stubbornness and pride.
“…Why?”
A sharp sound cracked between his teeth.
“What makes you think you’re special that only you get to sleep with me?”
Words poured out without passing through his head.
“You don’t even get wet when we do it, and you bitch more than anyone.”
“…”
“You’re worse than the girls, you know that?”
He drove the nail in as he stared at the stunned face frozen in shock.
Jooyoung’s eyes widened as transparent water pooled over his bright yellow irises. It shimmered like the reflection of the moon on the surface of water.
“Oh—there’s one good thing.”
“…”
“I don’t need to use condoms when I’m doing it with you.”
Dohyun felt his heart pounding at an incredibly fast pace. A strange sensation, like a bug crawling, crept up his spine and spread through his entire body. His hands and feet tingled with numbness.
After a moment’s silence, a trembling voice cut through.
“…Why would you say that?”
A small walnut-shaped wrinkle formed on his little chin, and his lower lip kept jutting out and curling inward. Eventually, tears rolled down Jooyoung’s pale cheeks.
“You’re doing this on purpose, right?”
“…”
“You’re just trying to hurt me, aren’t you? You don’t mean it.”
Every time he shook his head, his soaked eyelashes swayed heavily in the air. The tears pooling on his chin dripped to the floor with a splatter, and before long, his small face was damp and soaked.
He was supposed to be in pain, supposed to feel like his chest was being torn apart…
Dohyun’s strange desire kept growing larger and larger. It devoured its prey greedily and, in an instant, took over everything inside him. His rational mind tried to hold him back, telling him this wasn’t normal, but as a weak and pitiful human, he had no way to overcome that desire.
“Whether you mean it or not…”
Dohyun’s dark eyes shifted downward, clouded with emotion. They glistened.
“You’ll know when you compare.”
A tear dropped from the corner of Jooyoung’s wide-open eyes. Dohyun obsessively followed the trail of that tear, as if what he desperately longed for could be found right there.
“Dohyun!”
A voice calling him from afar was heard. Jooyoung’s head turned before Dohyun’s did. He quickly looked back at Dohyun, his face twisting in anguish. As if sensing something, Jooyoung began to cry.
“Dohyun-ahhhh…”
The hand that was holding on began to grip even tighter.
“Hwangdo, are you there?”
It was Sieun who peeked her head out toward the alley. Startled, Jooyoung let go of the hand he was holding. Dohyun walked past him indifferently. As soon as he stepped out of the narrow passage, a sharp wind blew.
“They’re moving to another place.”
“….”
“Is it okay that we leave just like this? He’s still there…”
Sieun glanced at Jooyoung, still standing with his back turned—something about the scene unsettled her.
“Ignore it.”
Dohyun had been walking toward the bar, paused when he felt his hand in his pocket—it was wet.
The clear moisture clinging there—it was Jooyoung’s tears and sweat.
“What’s wrong?”
Sieun stopped and looked at him.
“…Nothing.”
Barely managing to tear his eyes away from Jooyoung’s hand, Dohyun stared straight ahead. Twisted desire slowly crept up from his fingertips like the roots of a tree.