“That’s not fun.”
“You’re saying what I said isn’t fun?”
Without even realizing what he’d just agreed to, Eunho nodded. A moment later, his head dropped limply against Yi-beom’s chest.
“Seriously.”
Despite his curt tone, Yi-beom was already shifting his posture so Eunho could sleep more comfortably. If his secretary, Jinwon, had seen this, he probably would’ve scoffed and asked if Yi-beom was nearing death.
“You’re a funny little rabbit.”
Yi-beom slowly brushed Eunho’s hair back. Soft strands slipped between his fingers. After playing with it for a while, Yi-beom glanced toward the TV.
The movie’s plot was predictable. A former killer forced to carry out missions after a national agency took his family hostage. Guns and explosions filled the screen as Yi-beom watched with a bored expression.
Yi-beom’s own family life was like an action movie. Weapons everywhere, money flowing in from unknown places. At some point, he had grown used to that environment without even realizing it.
He didn’t feel like cursing it. Even if the money was dirty, he was still one of its beneficiaries. But from the moment he met Eunho, Yi-beom wanted to change the genre of his life— something quieter than action. Something like romance, or slice-of-life.
“That’s why you shouldn’t have built a family in the first place.”
Watching the protagonist run from place to place, Yi-beom clicked his tongue. In every action movie, family became hostages, got kidnapped, or died at the hands of enemies. Just like Yi-beom’s own mother.
That was also why he never proposed to Eunho. He didn’t want to drag Eunho— who hadn’t even graduated from university yet— into his kind of story. Yi-beom lifted the glass of alcohol from the table and took a sip.
On-screen, the protagonist had lost his wife to the enemy and was drowning in regret. As the crying grew louder, Yi-beom gently covered Eunho’s ears.
“Mmm?”
Ironically, that touch woke Eunho instead, and he lifted his head.
“What happened…? Why is he crying?”
“His wife died.”
“She dies?”
He’d thought the protagonist would save her. Leaning against Yi-beom, Eunho blinked slowly. On the TV, the protagonist was writhing on the ground in agony.
Would Ahjussi cry like that if I died?
Sobin’s words about possibly dying during childbirth came back to him. I’m strong, so that won’t happen… but still… Keeping his gaze fixed on the screen, Eunho spoke.
“What if…”
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“What if… I died? Would you cry like that too, Ahjussi?”
“No.”
The unexpected answer made Eunho jolt upright. Turning his head, he stared straight at Yi-beom.
Just imagining it seemed unbearable— Yi-beom’s face was already twisted, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Why would you ask something useless like that?”
“I was just curious…”
Yi-beom poked Eunho’s cheek with his fingertip. It was a signal that he didn’t want to keep talking, but Eunho stubbornly waited for an answer.
“Ha…”
Letting out a small sigh, Yi-beom reluctantly spoke.
“Who would have time to cry? I’d have to die quickly so I could follow you.”
“…D-die…?”
“Yeah. I’d probably look for the fastest way possible.”
His low voice echoed, sending chills across Eunho’s skin. The flickering light from the screen painted Yi-beom’s face blue. That indifferent expression, tinted cold— it made Eunho suddenly afraid.
Spreading his arms, Eunho slipped right into Yi-beom’s embrace.
“But if you die too, wh-what would happen…”
“Then don’t die in the first place.”
Eunho pressed his lips together. Then if I died during surgery… would Ahjussi die too? Negative thoughts tangled in his head.
Just then, a baby’s cry sounded from the screen— the child the killer’s wife had left behind.
“Then what if there was a child?”
“Hmm?”
“If… if we had a child between us… someone would have to stay alive and take care of them, right?”
“……”
“It would be our child.”
Yi-beom’s brows lifted high. The way Eunho kept pressing the topic made it seem like something was weighing on his mind— and it was likely connected to whatever Eunho was hiding.
Focused on reading Eunho’s expression, Yi-beom didn’t notice Eunho gently rubbing his stomach. A child born between him and Eunho. For a fleeting second, he pictured a tiny rabbit that looked like Eunho— but he quickly erased the thought.
To Yi-beom, a child was a luxury. He didn’t want to pass down his family’s sins, and more than anything, he didn’t want Eunho to carry that kind of risk. Even if Jung Eunho had been a woman, Yi-beom wouldn’t have considered pregnancy for a second.
After a brief pause, Yi-beom spoke.
“A child doesn’t matter.”
“……”
“I’ve never wanted a kid.”
“Even if it’s a child between you and me…?”
“Yeah.”
Eunho stopped breathing. It felt like his heart dropped with a heavy thud in his ears. Afraid his shocked expression might show, he hurriedly buried his face in Yi-beom’s chest.
I’ve never wanted a kid.
The cold voice echoed in Eunho’s head. He tightened his grip over the hand resting on his stomach.
***
Until the movie ended, Eunho kept his face buried in Yi-beom’s arms. His heart thumped irregularly, his cheeks puffing out again and again— anyone could tell he was still awake.
“Baby.”
“……”
“Are you asleep?”
“Mm…” Eunho let out an awkward hum and buried his face even deeper. The sight was so cute that Yi-beom barely held back a laugh.
Whenever something too difficult to solve gave him a headache, Eunho acted like a rabbit searching for a burrow. He would hide his face and stay there for a long time. It was an old habit from childhood.
Yi-beom didn’t know what it was this time, but Eunho definitely had something on his mind again. Probably something related to me. Even while suffering because of him, Eunho still sought refuge in his arms— and Yi-beom found that unbearably lovable. Warmth flickered in his gaze.
“…If only you weren’t so cute.”
Otherwise, he might’ve interrogated him about what he was scheming. Swallowing the thought, Yi-beom lifted Eunho into his arms.
Entering the second-floor bedroom, he carefully laid him down. Eunho’s tightly closed eyelids trembled faintly. Laughing softly, Yi-beom pressed a kiss onto them.
“Sleep well.”
Only after tucking the blanket around him did Yi-beom leave the room.
When he turned away, not a trace of warmth remained on his face. With a chilling expression, he slowly headed toward the bathroom— the guest bathroom where Eunho and Chanwoo had stayed.
Yi-beom picked up a recorder lying in the corner. Click. When he pressed the button, a recorded voice began to play.
<Hey, Jung Eunho. What’s going on? Why until now…>
Kim Chanwoo’s frivolous voice flowed out. After that, Eunho’s voice seemed to follow, but it was hard to tell whether it was breathing or actual words.
“Doesn’t sound like he stayed completely silent.”
The recording cutting off mid-conversation felt suspicious. If Eunho had truly kept his promise, there should’ve been more of Kim Chanwoo’s muttering— at least some worry about what was happening.
Yi-beom’s eyes narrowed.
“What is my baby plotting this time?”
His sharp gaze swept across the bathroom. That’s when he noticed handprints smeared across the mirror.
Immediately, Yi-beom turned on the hot water, filling the bathtub. As the tub filled, his expression grew colder and colder.
“Heh.”
When steam fogged the air and the bathroom heated up, writing slowly appeared on the mirror— clear messages revealed in the condensation. Yi-beom let out a dry laugh at the neat handwriting.
Round and soft, just like its owner— anyone could tell it was Jung Eunho’s handwriting.
“…Fuck.”
His gaze traveled from top to bottom. By the time he read the words escape plan and Central Park, Yi-beom’s face had turned completely cold. His eyes sank darkly.
Watching Eunho struggle to escape his grasp drove him insane. And doing it in the same way he’d drawn hearts for him earlier— it made his head burn and his stomach twist for the first time in a long while.
Grit. The sound of his teeth grinding slipped out.
“I feel like I told you to stay put more than once.”
Staring at the mirror, Yi-beom picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.
[Yes, President.]
A call during the time he usually spent with Eunho meant something serious had happened. Jinwon answered, his voice stripped of any humor.
[Did something happen?]
“Put people on Kim Chanwoo and Jung Eunchan.”
[Kim Chanwoo… you mean Eunho’s friend?]
“Yeah.”
Yi-beom’s eyes flashed.
“Report everything. Who they meet, what they buy— nothing left out.”
[Understood.]
Normally, Jinwon might’ve protested about tailing a friend and brought up morals, but this time he stayed silent. Yi-beom felt just as sharp-edged as he had before meeting Eunho.
[Ah, and about Moon Sobin you mentioned earlier.]
The sound of papers flipping followed, as if Jinwon were checking documents.
[We’ve been tracking him for a long time… but it’s just the hospital, a café, and a herbivore Beastman gathering.]
“That’s all?”
[Yes. No hobbies… almost no traceable movements. It feels like someone cleaned up his records so nothing could be used against him.]
“Most likely the government’s work.”
The words Central Park on the mirror caught Yi-beom’s eye again. Kim Chanwoo would probably show up there with Moon Sobin. And Eunho must’ve agreed to it.
“Just what kind of bastard is he…”
[Pardon?]
Ignoring Jinwon’s question, Yi-beom continued.
“Keep someone on Moon Sobin too. And…”
A strange glint appeared in his eyes.
“Look into a privately owned island. Somewhere with nothing around it except a villa.”
He must’ve felt suffocated, that’s why. Trying to untangle the thoughts knotting in his head, Yi-beom muttered under his breath. Even after hanging up, he remained in the bathroom for a long time.
He’s like… Ruining his own relationship. If you want your boyfriend to be completely miserable, keep doing what you’re doing!