Three Eight-Chapter 37

"It's gotta be turned a bit to get warm water. I’ll go first."

"Amazing how you’re still playing host."

Mu-gyeong mumbled just loud enough for it to be heard, nodding slightly as he hung his coat and jacket on the rack. His movements were unhurried, incredibly neat. Hongju quietly watched as he removed his gloves and tucked them into his pocket, then flicked open the buttons on his shirt.

President Mu-gyeong was completely out of place in this shabby room, yet somehow he didn’t feel entirely out of place either. While Hongju stood blankly, staring at his broad back, Mu-gyeong, who had been unbuttoning his shirt, turned his head slightly to the side.

"Watching me undress?"

"Ah, no."

Hongju quickly averted his gaze, frantically rummaging through a drawer for underwear. He fled into the bathroom, clutching the clothes to his chest, and took a short, deep breath. When he turned on the shower, freezing water came gushing out. But his flushed face didn’t cool easily.

Was it because he knew Mu-gyeong was waiting outside? For some reason, he took longer than usual to finish his shower. Even after grabbing a damp towel, Hongju stood frozen in front of the closed door for a while.

"......."

Occasionally, there had been slight noises from the other side of the door, but now it was quiet again. Did he leave? Still holding the towel, Hongju hesitated before slowly opening the door.

"Uh..."

Mu-gyeong stood with his arms crossed, gazing out the window. Had he been like that the entire time Hongju was washing? It was a semi-basement—he could only see car tires outside. Maybe there was some smell in the room and he was airing it out? Hongju quietly sniffed the air, but only a faint deodorizer scent hung there.

"You’ve been in there all day."

It sounded like a complaint, but he didn’t really seem angry. Hongju obviously avoided his eyes and tossed the towel into the laundry bin. Then he fetched a new toothbrush and the freshest towel he could find for Mu-gyeong.

"Something to change into..."

He turned around, wondering if he should offer him something comfortable to wear. But he bumped right into the firm chest that had come up behind him and couldn’t even twist his body away. Mu-gyeong grabbed Hongju’s forearm in one quick move. A large hand slid right under the loose short-sleeve shirt. Hot fingertips pressed down harshly as if trying to crush the tender skin.

"Wh-What are you doing!"

It was slow, sticky, and deep—he could feel every fingerprint. Goosebumps prickled along his back, sharper than anything the cold shower had caused. The hotel scene from last time flashed vividly in his mind.

"It really is cold."

Mu-gyeong looked like he was staring at something curious. His lips curled faintly, and he didn’t blink. Was the fact that he showered in cold water really something worth looking at with that kind of fascinated expression? Hongju tensed his captured arm. He hadn’t expected him to let go so easily, but Mu-gyeong withdrew his hand without much resistance.

"Your pants."

"......."

He hastily handed him the items he was holding and stepped away to escape Mu-gyeong’s shadow. They were probably about the same size as Geondal, so he could lend them just for a day and wash them later. Hongju dug through the stack of training clothes Geondal had recently bought on sale and picked the set that looked the most decent.

"Thanks."

Mu-gyeong grabbed only the pants and went into the bathroom. Hongju stood there for a long time until he finally heard the sound of water running. Snapping out of it, he moved quickly. He changed the gauze on his face and hands, pulled out fresh bedding and laid it again, turned the electric pad up high.

"Does it smell?"

He buried his nose in the blanket and sniffed, but all he could detect was laundry detergent. Still, knowing how obsessively clean Mu-gyeong was, he felt uneasy. After spraying deodorizer several more times, Hongju didn’t close the window until the chill began ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) to seep into his body.

How much time had passed? The sound of the hair dryer abruptly stopped, and then the bathroom door swung open. A wave of hot, humid air surged in through the crack. It had definitely been cold earlier, but the moisture made his skin feel heated again.

"It might be a little cold. Should I get you a T-shirt or something?"

While straightening the crumpled corner of the blanket, Hongju tried hard to anchor his wandering mind. He could hear Mu-gyeong’s heavy footsteps growing closer. His shadow loomed all the way down to Hongju’s ankles as he knelt.

"I’m fine. Sleeping with clothes on is uncomfortable."

As Mu-gyeong pulled the blanket over himself, Hongju stole a glance and saw him placing the towel in the laundry basket. The gray training pants seemed a little short—his ankles were clearly visible. For some reason, Hongju tensed up and swallowed dryly, turning his gaze away.

"The heating pad’s on, so it should be warm."

"Why is there only one pillow?"

Every time Mu-gyeong approached, the same scent enveloped him. It was clearly the same body wash and shampoo that Choi-goon, Geondal, and Doksu used, but something about it smelled different on Mu-gyeong.

"I’m sleeping over there."

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Hongju pointed to the bedding spread out near the sink. Mu-gyeong walked over and lightly kicked the pillow with his foot. It flew weakly and hit Hongju on the thigh.

"The spot just changed."

"......I don’t want to."

Hongju bit the inside of his cheek and grabbed the pillow. He was about to toss it back to its original spot when Mu-gyeong bent down and blocked him. His bare, broad chest filled Hongju’s view. His eyelashes trembled—he didn’t know where to look.

"What are you hoping for again?"

Mu-gyeong pressed a straight index finger against Hongju’s forehead. It wasn’t even a forceful gesture, but Hongju flinched and drew back. Then he crawled on his knees, moving out from under Mu-gyeong’s shadow. Mu-gyeong slowly turned his head, eyes tracking his movement with stubborn persistence.

"I can’t sleep well when I’m hot."

Hongju quickly stood up after returning the pillow to its original spot. Mu-gyeong’s eyes briefly dropped to his dry feet skimming across the floor.

"That’s a lousy excuse."

"I’m turning off the light now."

He spoke as if delivering a notice while drawing the blackout curtains. Mu-gyeong let out a short scoff, then dragged Hongju’s bedding closer to his own.

"Suit yourself."

At that distance, all he’d have to do was stretch out his arm to reach. Hongju bit down on his lip, clearly uneasy, and turned off the switch. Darkness quickly swallowed the small room. He made his way to his blanket, relying on the faint light that slipped in from the veranda where the curtain didn’t fully close.

"It gets too hot when we're close."

Rustle. He pulled the bedding Mu-gyeong had moved back to its original place and lay down. A clear sign that he didn’t want to be near him. There was a soft chuckle in the dark, but he didn’t turn his head.

Just as he was about to settle into the blanket, Hongju froze. Was it really okay to be lying in the same room like this? Mu-gyeong was clearly different from Guppping, but still... if nothing had happened between them, maybe it wouldn’t matter. But he’d already seen how Mu-gyeong reacted when aroused—what expression he made, the strange kiss they’d shared.

‘When did you start... liking men?’

Geondal’s question kept echoing in his ears. He had never liked anyone—man or woman. There’d never been anyone worth liking.

But what about Mu-gyeong? Surely there were plenty of people around him. Why had he kissed someone like Hongju? Could it be, like Geondal said, that he liked men? When Hongju asked him at the hospital, the answer had been too vague. Or maybe that kiss had just been another trade—another form of transaction, just like a debt.

"Um... earlier..."

The words left his mouth impulsively. His voice trembled pathetically in the dark. But he had no idea how to continue.

"......."

"Never mind. Good night."

Was he asleep? There was no response, but that felt like the better outcome. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Hongju blinked slowly. Was it because of the person next to him, or the darkness clouding his sight? Every sense in his body felt sharpened to the point of fear. He could even feel the old wall clock ticking from across the room, a souvenir from a jjimjilbang opening.

And Mu-gyeong’s breathing—coming from his left—sounded incredibly close. Without realizing it, Hongju had started syncing his breath to Mu-gyeong’s rhythm, inhaling and exhaling in time.

"......."

Even swallowing his own dry spit seemed loud in the silence. Each time the blankets rustled, he flinched. The more he tensed up and kept alert, the more sleep seemed to flee from him.

"......Hoo."

Letting out a small sigh, he rolled onto his side, pressing his right ear into the pillow. In doing so, the sound of Mu-gyeong’s breath and the rustling blanket disappeared. Alone again in the heavy silence, Hongju kept his eyes open, staring toward the dark sink.

"......."

Whether it was Guppping or President Mu-gyeong, in the end, they both had gotten aroused over him. So what was so different that he let one of them into his home and even thought about sleeping beside him? No matter how he turned it over in his head, he couldn’t calm down. As he bit into his lip, unable to lie still any longer, Hongju began to lift the blanket to get up—

—when suddenly, a hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Hongju’s eyes flew open as he turned his head. Then a low voice seeped into his ear.

"I’ve been thinking about what you were trying to ask earlier."

What he saw in front of him was just a silhouette, more shadow than shape. When had he gotten this close, all the way up behind him like this? Flustered, Hongju blinked and tried to sit up, but the pressure on his shoulder pinned him back down.

"It wasn’t anything. Move."

"You wanted to ask why I kissed you, right?"

The hand gripping his shoulder slid slowly upward, stroking the back of his neck. The warmth trailing across his skin sent waves of goosebumps in its wake. Hongju shuddered and let out an unsteady breath.

"Or maybe... you’re wondering why I’m not doing anything to you now. Is that it?"

"I said no. Move your hand."

But he couldn’t bring himself to push it off—he could feel how easily that grip might tighten. The last time, when his neck had been choked, it had hurt for days every time he swallowed, and the bruise had lingered long after.

"I didn’t think much of it either, at first."

Mu-gyeong’s whisper was unusually low and husky, a rumble that sent chills down Hongju’s back. The large hand cupped Hongju’s frozen jaw. It was hot—hot enough to feel like it might burn through the skin covering his cheekbones.

"But when you act like you’re expecting something..."

As Hongju’s eyes adjusted to the dark, Mu-gyeong’s face began to slowly take shape.