Chapter 30
by GideonJuhyeon quietly moved to grab a change of clothes. When he returned from the bathroom, Taemo was still in the exact same spot. If he would just give me a single glance, my anxiety might fade. But Taemo never did anything Juhyeon wanted him to.
Juhyeon entered the room with a towel draped haphazardly over his wet hair. Water dripped down, soaking his shoulder. His hands trembled slightly, perhaps from the anxiety.
“…”
He could have dried his hair with the hairdryer in the bathroom, but he chose not to. The most reliable way to get someone’s attention was to push his own body to the breaking point. Taemo had taken such careful care of him when he fell ill last time; he would surely do so again. He couldn’t allow Taemo to decide to abandon him. He had to appear as pitiful and wretched as possible.
He lowered the air conditioner another two notches and slumped down beneath it. He tossed his towel aside, exposing his still-damp hair. A chill, starkly different from the heat outside, swept over his entire body. Juhyeon shivered, his shoulders trembling, yet he didn’t move from the spot.
He’d had an air conditioner in his old place, too, but it had been left behind by the previous tenant. It was an ancient model, and after getting slapped with a massive electricity bill, he’d vowed never to turn it on again. During those summers, he’d rather pull all-nighters at a PC cafe or pretend to be drunk and crash at a friend’s house. But this summer, he was basking in the air conditioner’s breeze to his heart’s content. Even if it had gone past refreshing and was now so cold his lips were turning blue.
Once the moisture in my hair had mostly evaporated, I dove into bed. I curled up, pulling only half the thin blanket over me. The sound of my quiet sniffling grew more frequent. I’m definitely going to catch a cold at this rate. That was the only thought that crossed my mind as I shivered uncontrollably.
“Ugh…”
I don’t know how long I spent tossing and turning from the cold. Now, my body and breath were growing hot. My throat ached, and every inch of my curled-up body felt stiff. My plan to get sick was working.
“Fuck, my head hurts like hell.”
I must have been asleep for hours, but a chill still clung to my hair. I ran my fingers through the strands several times to make sure it hadn’t frozen solid. Then, I slowly pushed myself up.
Later.
Was this the “later” Taemo had promised?
I crossed the living room, lit only by a single, lonely lamp. My steps took me toward the bedroom door, which remained firmly shut today.
“Are you… asleep?”
My voice cracked on the short question. Again, I couldn’t bring myself to knock.
“I’m sick…”
I fumbled with my heavy, sunken voice, addressing the silent figure inside.
“I was looking for the medicine I took last time. I’m dizzy, and I think I have a fever, and my body aches…”
My words trailed off into a rambling stream, but there was no sign of life from within.
I clutched my throbbing head, then exhaled a hot breath. I could feel my condition worsening in real time. Is he not coming out? Usually, being sick was enough to get some attention. Is it not working this time?
Just as I bit my dry lips, the door—which had shown no sign of movement—swung open. At the same moment, a strange scent of lavender brushed past my nose.
Juhyeon’s gaze, fixed on the floor, slowly lifted. Taemo, one eye narrowed, stared intently at Juhyeon’s face. His eyes were as sharp as ever, but there was no hint of malice in them.
“What’s wrong with you, getting sick like this?”
His words were harsh, but his rough hand touched Juhyeon’s forehead. Juhyeon had always thought Taemo’s body temperature was unusually high, but now it didn’t feel that way. He must have been running a fever.
Juhyeon’s head tilted back slightly as he was pushed by the large hand. He stubbornly raised his feverish eyes to meet Taemo’s.
“…”
Sigh. Taemo let out a low breath and withdrew his hand. Then he gave Juhyeon’s shoulder a couple of light shoves, as if trying to brush him aside. The gesture made Juhyeon shrink back. Perhaps it was because he felt sick, but his emotions seemed to be fluctuating far more than usual. As Taemo walked past him in the living room, Juhyeon caught a faint scent of lavender.
“What are you doing? Go back to your room.”
He rummaged through the dresser with rough, clumsy hands. Juhyeon’s heart felt strange for some reason. He could almost see Dongwoo’s image superimposed over Taemo.
A single, clear thought pierced through his throbbing headache.
Woo Juhyeon, you’re just desperate for Lee Taemo’s attention, aren’t you? And it has to be him, no one else.
“…”
Is this even okay? Setting aside the fact that they were the same gender, Taemo already had someone he cared for. Besides, he was a man involved in dangerous, frightening work.
Juhyeon shook his head, trying to shake off the thoughts, refusing to admit his heart was leaning toward Lee Taemo. But as a hand cupped the back of his head, he froze, unable to move.
“You said you were dizzy. What the hell is this?”
“…”
“Get inside. Now.”
This time, the push was forceful. Juhyeon stumbled forward, his feet dragging as he moved toward the room. Unlike the living room, where the air conditioner was set to a mild temperature, a blast of cold air hit him the moment he stepped inside. Shivering, he quickly buried himself under the covers.
From the gap in the open door, he heard a few clattering sounds. Yet, even then, Taemo’s footsteps remained silent—even as he entered the room with a glass of water and medicine.
“It’s a damn icebox in here. No wonder you’re burning up.”
Taemo’s scolding suddenly pierced his ears. Juhyeon, who had been covering his eyes with the back of his hand, flinched.
“Do you want to freeze to death?”
Taemo clicked his tongue in annoyance, then grabbed the remote. Beep, beep, beep, beep. The buttons clicked repeatedly, yet the room remained stiflingly cold.
“Medicine.”
The glass met the table with a deliberate thud. This time, Taemo had clearly made the sound on purpose. Juhyeon sniffled and forced his limp body upright. Strangely, his fever seemed to spike the moment he’d admitted he was sick.
He didn’t know what the medicine was, but Taemo had already peeled back the foil, so Juhyeon just swallowed it whole. He drained nearly the entire glass of lukewarm water. As he wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand, Taemo’s hand shoved his shoulder as if he’d been waiting for that exact moment. Before he could even brace himself, Juhyeon fell backward.
“Next time you’re hot, just stick your head in the freezer. You’re better off doing that.”
It was a long lecture, but it could be summed up as: You’re an idiot.
Though his words were harsh, his touch was gentle as he pulled the blanket up to Juhyeon’s shoulders. This familiar care always filled the void of Juhyeon’s anxiety. Juhyeon blinked slowly, his eyes still hot, and parted his lips.
“You told me not to come to the karaoke place anymore. Does that mean I can’t work there?”
“Not for a while.”
Taemo’s hand, warm with a slight fever, brushed quickly against Juhyeon’s cheek and neck. The contact lasted only a fleeting moment, yet the warmth lingered. The once-frigid air in the room finally seemed to be warming up.
“So… will I get fired too? And kicked out of the house?”
“You said you wanted to stay here.”
I didn’t mean I wanted to stay in this house, I thought. I meant I wanted to stay with you. But I swallowed the words, feeling too pathetic to say them. I closed my eyes, which were burning with fever.
I could hear his breath just inches away, and every so often, his body heat brushed against my flushed skin. Only now did my mind finally settle. The anxiety that had gnawed at me all day over Kang-i began to fade. After all, there’s no better way to get his attention and concern.
“…Can I stay?”
“I never said I’d kick you out. Why are you so scared?”
Even his brusque words now brought a sense of reassurance. A large hand brushed the hair back from my forehead. The touch was rough, his palm calloused, yet it felt strangely comforting. Being taken care of always felt good, no matter how many times I’d experienced it.
I let my body go limp and exhaled a long breath. The splitting headache hadn’t subsided, but I felt like I could drift off to sleep at any moment.
“By the way… do you know how to make tomato pasta?”
“What?”
“We had it together last time. But honestly, that wasn’t even enough to tide me over.”
I kept rambling, my voice hoarse and cracked. A soft, airy chuckle escaped him. I wanted to see his expression, but my eyelids were too heavy. They were weighed down by the fever.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“…”
“I’ll do it once you’re better. We’ll go to the supermarket, get groceries, and I’ll keep doing it until you’re sick of it. Happy?”
A faint smile touched Juhyeon’s lips. The promise of a future together eased the ache in his chest. He barely managed to lift a finger, fearing that even a nod would send a jolt of pain through his head. Taemo let out a dry laugh at the sight of the small, raised pinky finger. He seemed like the type who would never agree to such a thing, yet surprisingly, he readily hooked his own pinky around Juhyeon’s.
“Promise made.”
Though it was a trivial gesture, Juhyeon felt a wave of relief. He swallowed hard, his throat stinging, and forced his lips open. Instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind, a completely different question escaped.
“Kang-i… hasn’t contacted me yet, has he?”
“Yeah. He hasn’t.”
“Ah.”
I trailed off, my voice lingering. My throat felt raw, and my body seemed to sink right through the mattress. Did I push myself too hard? Did I set the AC too low? I’d tried so hard to get his attention that I’d managed to make myself sick.
The symptoms were almost identical to the last time I’d been ill. The only difference was the intensity—back then, it was a dull ache, but now it was a full-blown disaster. Maybe it wasn’t the intense workout that had done it then, either. Maybe my body had just been sending a warning signal because I wasn’t used to the air conditioning.
Even as my mind grew hazy and fragmented, I focused all my senses on the presence I could feel right beside me. As if he knew, Taemo kept his presence steady, unlike his usual self—as if he were trying to soothe me into a peaceful sleep.
“Ugh…”
I forced my heavy eyelids open, my head throbbing with a splitting headache and my stomach churning. The pain had been so relentless I couldn’t even sleep properly. If Taemo hadn’t dragged me to the hospital, I probably would have been carried out of this bed in a body bag. It was my first time on an IV drip, and while it had helped a lot at first, the relief was short-lived.
I’m never doing that again, I vowed. Whatever else I do, I’m never lowering the AC with wet hair. That was the hard-won lesson from this brutal ordeal.
“…”
Juhyeon rolled his bloodshot eyes. Taemo, who had been tending to him the entire time—even dragging a chair right next to the bed—was nowhere to be seen. A shaft of light from the living room pierced the dimness of the bedroom, but as Juhyeon scanned the room, he found no trace of him. He slowly closed and opened his hot, heavy eyelids.
Just then, a low voice seemed to drift in from the open doorway. Juhyeon froze, holding his breath as he strained to listen.
“No. I can’t go today.”
The tone was curt. Is he calling about work? Is he talking to Kang-i?
“Because I have more important things to do than you. Fuck, do I have to explain every little detail to you?”
The voice was harsh, but Juhyeon couldn’t recall him ever speaking to Kang-i with such venom. Is it someone else? Then who? Juhyeon pulled the blanket up to the tip of his nose, biting his lip.
“I don’t have the energy to argue. Hang up.”
The silence that followed confirmed he’d actually hung up.
The light streaming in from the living room was partially blocked. The moment Juhyeon recognized the silhouette, he squeezed his eyes shut. He finally released the lip he’d been chewing on, the bitten skin still stinging.
Taemo’s rough fingertips brushed quickly against Juhyeon’s cheek and forehead, as if checking for a fever. After a few more brief touches, he pulled the blanket down to Juhyeon’s chest. Then, he began fanning him with his hand.
The air conditioner was off, leaving only the cool breeze from the living room. Yet, the air Taemo stirred with his hand felt as if it were drawing the heat right out of Juhyeon’s body.
I thought these hands were more accustomed to hurting people and cutting their throats, yet he seemed to take surprisingly good care of the sick. I should be feeling satisfied, not anxious, now that things were going my way. But for some reason, my stomach churned.
Bzzzz.
The vibration sliced through the silence. The gentle breeze from his hand, which had been cooling my fever, stopped abruptly.
“Ah, that fucking bastard…”
Taemo clicked his tongue in annoyance and stood up. He didn’t make a sound as he left the room, save for the fading vibration of his phone. Only after the buzzing receded and the door clicked shut, leaving me trapped in complete darkness, did I realize he was gone.
“…”
Who could be calling him like that? My mind was still foggy from sleep. I turned my head and saw the window, its curtains drawn back. Outside, there was only pitch-black darkness.
He’d bought her a pillow mist or something to help her sleep, yet he was the one keeping her awake. Taemo probably hadn’t rested properly while she was sick, but she didn’t mind having intruded upon his night. Someone might call her selfish, but as long as her anxiety had subsided, that was enough.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
It had been a week since she’d last set foot in the karaoke room. Juhyeon was finally free from the endless headaches and fever, but her mood still hadn’t improved. She kept checking her phone, which remained silent. She’d never been one to keep up with a lot of messages, but Kang-i used to send her random texts now and then. Now, even those had stopped.
“Your eyes are going to wear out. Stop staring.”
Juhyeon’s head dipped as a hand cupped the back of his neck. The large hand stroked slowly down to his nape, its warmth as familiar as ever. Perhaps it was because this was the same warmth that had tended to him throughout his illness; Juhyeon didn’t even flinch at the sudden touch.
“I can’t go off to be Superman yet, can I?”
Taemo shrugged, adjusting his shirt sleeves. Only then did Juhyeon truly take in Taemo’s attire. It wasn’t gym wear, but it was too polished for a simple errand. Taemo never dressed casually, but the obvious effort he’d put into his appearance today kept Juhyeon’s gaze fixed on him.
“What? Where are you going?”
I’d thought he’d settled down while I was sick, but it seemed he was itching to go out again.
“Just an appointment.”
Juhyeon set his phone down, his eyes following Taemo’s every move.
“You’ve been going out a lot lately. Don’t tell me it’s a friend?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think I don’t have any friends?”
“Uh, well…”
I couldn’t even deny it. I just scratched my eyebrow. I’d expected him to curse me out, but he just chuckled. Taemo, who had briefly stepped into the room with the computer, pointed toward the kitchen.
“Heat up the food on the table. If you eat ramen or some shit like that, you’re dead.”
“…Are you going to eat before you go?”
Did he forget we were supposed to go to the store today? We’d even pinky-promised. He’d definitely confirmed it last night, too.
Judging by the look on Taemo’s face, the promise had been completely erased from his memory.
“Yeah.”
He’s dressed up more than usual. Where is he going, forgetting our plans and all? I’m curious, but will he even tell me?
Juhyeon tossed his phone aside and shot to his feet, trailing after Taemo.
“Going somewhere nice?”
“Want to come?”
Juhyeon almost retorted that he wouldn’t go unless it was the store, but he swallowed the words. He didn’t want to seem like he was sulking and holding a grudge over something Taemo didn’t even remember.
“Do I even know where you’re going? Besides, you said you’re meeting a friend. I’m not that clueless, you know.”
“I never said it was a friend.”
Juhyeon’s eyes widened at the short, provocative answer. If it’s not a friend, then a client? Or maybe a lover? Or… someone who could be both? A face that looked expensive and refined immediately flashed through his mind.
“Is it…?”
He almost asked if it was Seo Jinyoung again. But he stopped himself. If he asked, he’d just end up wondering why he was being left behind now, when he used to be taken along every time. He’d wonder if it was because he was being considerate, remembering how Juhyeon had lost the watch despite his assurances that he trusted him. He’d want to ask if this person was so important that they’d make him forget his promise to cook pasta.
“What? You’re leaving me hanging.”
“…Nothing. I was just saying have a safe trip.”
Juhyeon tried to sound casual, but his voice came out a little brusque. Startled by his own tone, he quickly covered his mouth with his fingertips. Not wanting his flustered expression to be seen, he turned his back and sank onto the sofa where he’d been sitting moments before.
Taemo headed for the front door, carrying only a single duffel bag. It looked heavy, with odd, blunt bulges poking out from its sides. He’d carried it around like this before, but Juhyeon could never figure out what was inside.
“…”
Juhyeon forced himself to stop staring at Taemo’s retreating figure. He turned on the TV and fixed his gaze on a travel show he had zero interest in.
“Don’t start acting up just because your fever’s down. Stay put and watch the house. You know I’m keeping an eye on you, right?”
The voice sounded distant, and then the door lock chimed. Only after silence settled over the apartment did Juhyeon crane his neck to peek at the entryway.
“…Is that his idea of a goodbye?”
So his way of saying ‘see you later’ is to threaten me with surveillance. It felt typical of Lee Taemo.
“Sigh.”
Juhyeon sank into the sofa and stretched. Still, being alone was more relaxing than being with Taemo. He turned on the TV, basking in his freedom as he sprawled out and munched on a couple of the snacks Taemo had stocked. Even as he ate, he scratched his eyebrow, feeling strange about not having to keep a ledger.
“…I would have been less bored if I’d gone to Superman.”
I lay sprawled on the sofa, blinking my eyes.
Even when I lived alone in a small apartment, I was always overwhelmed by these kinds of thoughts. I hated the silence and missed someone’s warmth… In short, I was lonely. But being in a house this big seemed to make that loneliness surge in even more powerfully.
The TV screen showed a travel destination with a beautiful view, but none of it registered in my mind.
It’s a completely different vibe from the city. I think this is a place worth taking the time to visit. I highly recommend it!
A celebrity enjoying the trip said, looking into the camera. Worth taking the time to visit? Juhyeon sprang up from the sofa, chewing over the words.
“Why didn’t I think of this?”
If Kang-i doesn’t contact me, I can just be the one to reach out first. It’s not like I don’t have his number. He told me not to come see him, but he never said anything about texting.
I grabbed my phone, which had been lying around. I only had two contacts saved, so I didn’t even have to look hard. Besides, I’d exchanged messages with him way more often than with Taemo, who was saved as “Lee Pro.” Texting him was easy.
The weather’s nice today.
I agonized over what to send for a long time. Should I ask if he’d cooled off? Or what he was doing right now? I couldn’t just send a casual message like I would to my friends, so I racked my brain. In the end, the message I sent was nothing more than a comment about the weather.
Only after hitting send did I finally spring to my feet. I yanked back the curtains and stared out the window. The sky was a gloomy mess, looking like it was about to pour—making my awkward greeting about the “nice weather” feel even more ridiculous.
“Ugh, seriously? It’s summer, where the hell is the sun?”
I was scratching the back of my head and glaring at the gray clouds when—Bzzz.
I almost dismissed it as a hallucination, but then another vibration buzzed through my hand. Juhyeon, still clutching the curtain, hurriedly checked the screen.
It rained earlier;
“…”
I must have been so out of it from the meds that I’d slept right through the rain.
Shit, did I just annoy him more? I stared at the keypad, my fingers hovering, unable to type a reply.
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