Jung Haon’s cheeks flushed a vivid crimson as his lips parted slightly. His gaze, darting away to avoid Seo Inho’s eyes, was filled with embarrassment. Yet, even as his eyes fled, his body remained stubbornly pressed against Inho, refusing to separate. From their tightly joined chests, Haon’s rapid heartbeat echoed against Inho. Gently, Inho stroked Haon’s back, as if trying to soothe his racing heart.
“Do you want to do it right now?”
Inho whispered into Haon’s ear, his voice tinged with a faint trace of laughter.
“A-Ah, no…! I didn’t mean right now!”
Startled, Haon shook his head frantically, his heart sinking at the thought that Inho might think he was some kind of lecher.
“I meant… in the future. Like… often… a lot…”
The more Haon tried to explain, the more ridiculous he sounded. Watching Haon’s face grow steadily redder, Inho simply looked amused.
“Alright, Haon-ssi.”
Smiling softly, Inho pressed a light kiss to Haon’s nervously quivering lips. Then, with his lips, he traced Haon’s philtrum, the bridge of his nose, and his round forehead.
“I love you so much more.”
Inho returned the very words Haon had once spoken to him, his smile deepening.
So he hadn’t been asleep after all. Realizing this, even Haon’s pale skin turned a deep shade of red. Burying his face into Inho’s chest, Haon weakly grumbled, asking why Inho had pretended to be asleep.
Inho simply answered with a chuckle, then gently nipped at the flushed nape of Haon’s neck, careful not to hurt him.
***
Haon recovered swiftly. After sleeping deeply for another full day with Inho, his appetite miraculously returned. It was the first time he’d been able to eat so soon after coming down from a heat.
Haon was eating so well that it was Inho who ended up worrying more.
“Can you eat a little more?”
Haon, who had been diligently chewing on a fragrant spoonful of porridge, nodded enthusiastically. Porridge digested quickly, so it was fine to eat a lot.
“I’ll finish all of that.”
He pointed at the bowl of porridge Inho was holding. Haon was sitting on the bed, eating a late breakfast that was closer to lunchtime.
“You don’t have to force yourself.”
Inho said as he scooped up a small portion of porridge and brought it to Haon’s mouth. Haon opened his mouth like a little sparrow, eagerly accepting every spoonful. Then, he motioned with his eyes for Inho to eat as well.
Only then did Inho bring some porridge to his own mouth. He mentioned that he usually didn’t eat breakfast, and that he had only brought one bowl for himself.
“You’re going to have lunch, right, Inho-ssi?”
“I should. What about you, Haon-ssi?”
“I’m fine with just this.”
“Then you’ll have to finish it all.”
Smiling, Inho scooped up another spoonful of porridge. Haon quietly opened his mouth without refusing. Inho enjoyed feeding Haon, and Haon loved every single act of care Inho showed him. They were a perfect match.
“I’ll apply some ointment for you.”
Setting the now-empty bowl on the nightstand, Inho picked up a tube of ointment. Since Haon couldn’t take any medicine, Inho was meticulous about applying topical treatments instead.
He gently spread the ointment over the bruises on Haon’s palms, the scratches covering his feet, and the bluish bruise on his cheek. After applying the ointment, Inho puckered his lips and blew softly on the spots—hoo, hoo.
Haon imitated him, puffing out little breaths, and then burst into laughter when Inho stole a quick kiss from his lips. The sound of Haon’s pure, childlike laughter delighted Inho’s ears.
Despite the bruises and wounds scattered all over his body, Haon was even brighter than usual. Not a shadow remained on his pale face. Perhaps it was because he had no memory of that day.
Only the moments when Inho had comforted him lingered vividly in Haon’s mind, making it impossible to stop smiling.
“I’ll apply some for you too.”
Grabbing the ointment, Haon lightly tugged on Inho’s shoulder, signaling for him to come closer. When Inho didn’t lower his head, Haon leaned in himself and gently dabbed the ointment.
He spread it over the scar that had formed on Inho’s left cheek, locking eyes with him. Then, naturally, their lips met in a kiss.
Inho’s tongue wrapped smoothly around Haon’s as if drawn by a magnet, and he ran his fingers through Haon’s softly swaying hair. Haon let out a sweet moan, savoring the gentle caress against the back of his head.
When Inho’s large hand slid down Haon’s spine and began kneading his waist, Haon whimpered softly, almost ticklish. Yet Inho didn’t withdraw his hand.
Under the blanket, Haon’s legs squirmed. When he subtly raised his knees, making his presence more known, the hand at his waist slipped even lower.
“You’re going to sleep more, right?”
Inho asked as he slipped his hand underneath the thick comforter.
Lately, Haon had developed a sort of food coma he hadn’t experienced before. After eating a solid meal, he would feel lethargic almost immediately.
If Haon so much as looked drowsy, Inho would promptly lay him down on the bed, insisting he needed plenty of rest since the fever hadn’t fully subsided yet.
“Right now… I’m not sleepy,”
Haon said in a thin voice, lifting his hips slightly and pressing himself closer to Inho.
Under the covers, Inho’s hand was kneading the soft flesh on the inside of Haon’s thigh. The deeper Haon’s breathing grew, the further Inho’s hand delved.
He brushed against the tender flesh that hadn’t yet firmed up—Haon wasn’t even wearing any underwear. He was only dressed in the oversized pajama shirt that Inho had put on him. It was long enough to cover his backside, so it didn’t feel uncomfortable—if anything, it felt even more comfortable.
“You do look sleepy,” Inho murmured.
Inho nuzzled the tip of his nose against Haon’s slightly drooping eyelids. Even as drowsiness steadily crept in, Haon stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.
“I can sleep… later…”
He let out a deep sigh, wearing a parched, almost sulky expression as he brushed himself suggestively against the back of Inho’s hand. He wanted Inho to touch him more. He was starting to think he might be addicted to Inho’s touch, and that scared him a little.
Pressing a kiss to Haon’s lips, Inho slid under the blanket. Haon, as if he had been waiting, slipped his knee between Inho’s thighs.
Their lower bodies pressed tightly together, the heat between them rising. Haon rubbed himself against Inho’s thigh, seeking satisfaction even though Inho never pushed things all the way. He had to make do with just this contact.
Inho only held Haon within limits that wouldn’t strain his body, still recovering from the lingering effects of his fever. Haon, freshly awakened to the throes of sexuality, was both grateful and a little frustrated by Inho’s restraint—honestly, more than a little.
“Hnn…”
When Inho cupped Haon’s buttocks with his broad palm and applied firm pressure, Haon squeezed his eyes shut. The moment his sensitive front was pressed tightly against Inho’s solid thigh, a sharp moan escaped him.
Hearing that thrilling sound, Inho swallowed hard, lifting one thigh to deepen the grinding stimulation. He captured Haon’s twisting lips in a kiss, drinking in the saliva pooling inside.
When Inho rubbed the leaking, wet tip, Haon’s damp moans vibrated vividly into his mouth.
Aside from penetration, they did just about everything else whenever they had a chance.
“Ugh…”
Haon clenched his toes, biting down hard to stifle the pleasure. His gasping breaths grew ragged as he soaked Inho’s hand completely.
Inho patiently waited for Haon to ride out the lingering tremors, cradling his curled-up body. When Haon’s breathing finally began to settle, Inho pulled off his shirt, wiping away the semen from his own hand and carefully cleaning between Haon’s legs.
“You’re sleepy now, aren’t you?”
Haon dazedly nodded his head.
He quietly watched as Inho tenderly wiped him clean, then wriggled closer to burrow into Inho’s broad chest. His eyelids were heavy now—he felt like he could fall into a deep, dreamless sleep right there.
“Inho-ssi…”
Haon opened his mouth sluggishly but couldn’t finish what he wanted to say. He had meant to ask if Inho didn’t need to be satisfied too.
“I’m going to sleep too.”
Misunderstanding Haon’s half-spoken words, Inho rested his chin atop Haon’s head, breathing in his comforting scent.
The way Haon’s small body fit so perfectly against him made Inho smile without even realizing it.
Seeing that smile, Haon slowly lifted his head, blinking sleepily, a curious expression on his face as if to ask why he was laughing. Instead of answering, Inho posed a different question—one that felt sudden and out of nowhere.
“Haon-ssi, why do you like me?”
Why ask something like that all of a sudden? Haon blinked drowsily, his gaze slowly focusing on Inho. It was too easy a question to answer.
“How could I not like you…”
His voice, drained of energy, trailed off softly. Faint but filled with certainty.
“You’re perfect in every way.”
To Haon, Inho was always dazzlingly handsome, kind-hearted, and endlessly caring toward others. He was flawless—a perfect existence without a single blemish.
How could he not fall for someone like that? Inho was someone who simply had to be loved. It was only natural for Haon to love him.
“Inho-ssi… out of everyone I’ve ever met, no—you’re just the most perfect person in the whole world….”
Drifting in and out of sleep, Haon mumbled praise after praise, his words tumbling out without any real order. He nestled even deeper into Inho’s embrace, relishing the way he was held tighter in response. Burying his face against Inho’s chest, where a slow and steady heartbeat thudded warmly, Haon finally fell into a deep sleep. As always, Inho smelled wonderful today, too.
