#67
The warning light that had been ringing in his head since earlier now flashed more urgently. It seemed to be urging Nam Seonwoo to come to his senses, warning him that it was truly dangerous. But his already hazy consciousness couldn’t hear that warning. The feeling of hot breaths mingling, the warmth of clinging to each other was so missed that it brought tears to his eyes.
“Mmm…”
The lips that had accepted Kang Jihan without resistance now explored him more actively. Whenever their lips parted even for a moment, the limp hand would grab Kang Jihan’s arm, as if urging him on.
“You…”
Kang Jihan suddenly pulled his head back. It was annoying that he would pull away now, when they should just be kissing obediently. As if in retaliation, Nam Seonwoo headbutted Kang Jihan’s chest, causing him to cup his face again, asking what he was doing. Rubbing his cheek against that palm, Nam Seonwoo whined.
“Hurry…”
Let’s go home. My place is close.
But Kang Jihan just stood still like a stone. When Nam Seonwoo lifted his heavy eyelids to look up at him, he unconsciously held his breath.
The black pupils seemed to have become even darker. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from those eyes that had become so deep it sent chills down his spine. Knowing when Kang Jihan had such a look in his eyes, longing and ecstasy began to creep up. But along with it came an instinctive fear of being devoured at any moment.
…Who cares. It’s not real anyway.
Nam Seonwoo clung to the Kang Jihan before him, as if craving the unfinished kiss.
* * *
Kang Jihan was a lover stingy with kisses.
The only time they could freely exchange kisses like a normal couple was during sex. That’s probably why he clung more to it. To sex with Kang Jihan.
When their bodies intertwined, it felt like they became inseparable. They shared breaths as if they couldn’t bear to be without each other’s lips for even a moment, and tried to capture every fleeting moment in their eyes.
At those times, it felt like they were truly in love. Not a one-sided relationship, but one where they were genuinely connected somehow. That’s why he believed he was loved, even if expressions of affection were rare.
For Nam Seonwoo, a kiss held more meaning than just a mere peck. That’s why on that day when Kang Jihan wouldn’t even kiss him, it felt like something inside him had shattered.
It was a day when Kang Jihan, who had been staying out frequently, finally came home. Unable to bear the piercing loneliness, he sought comfort from him. He craved reassurance. But Kang Jihan avoided his face as if annoyed, yet still climaxed inside him nonchalantly.
With his face buried in the bed, he realized. That it was right to end this pathological relationship.
He decided to stop, feeling too beastly and pitiful for panting without matching breaths and gazes.
And yet.
“Haa, mmph…”
That hot breath that had kept a thread of hope alive for fifteen years was now pouring between his lips.
It was different from the kiss they had shared in the infirmary, holding their breaths. It wasn’t the tension of that time when they observed each other’s breaths and trembles one by one, like leaving footprints in freshly fallen snow. Rather, it was a kiss that felt full of longing.
‘Don’t tell me it’s another…’
It was clearly that damned dream.
The past year had been a time of desperate struggle. His subconscious seemed unable to accept the breakup with Kang Jihan, as every time he fell asleep, the dream would show Kang Jihan’s face.
For several weeks, it was Kang Jihan every day. The ticklish scenes of sharing salty rice balls in the library and hiding their clasped hands under a broken streetlight kept repeating. As if challenging him to try and forget if he could.
At first, it was bearable. It was just replaying scenes from his memories, not much different from rewatching a completed drama in a way. Even stories one was once passionately immersed in would gradually fade in emotion if watched repeatedly. In some scenes, he would foolishly shed a few tears, but once the lingering feelings subsided, he would return to his daily life. He believed that as such days accumulated, eventually he would feel nothing even when seeing those scenes.
But at some point, the content of the dreams began to change. Kang Jihan, who had always been in school uniform, now appeared wearing a university department jacket, sometimes a suit, and other times a doctor’s gown. Regardless of the outfit, the background was always the same. On this officetel bed where he had fled from Kang Jihan, Kang Jihan would press his lips against his, meeting his gaze just as he had done before. He would skillfully undress him and look down with eyes that made him believe he was loved.
Of course, it wasn’t a scene from his memories. From that moment on, it was completely a dream. A damned dream that made him feel self-loathing.
From that day on, Nam Seonwoo desperately disbelieved the saying that “dreams are manifestations of the unconscious.” Because in his dreams, they always… just had a lot of sex. After intertwining tongues with Kang Jihan and panting beneath him, when he opened his eyes, he was overwhelmed by such an intensely shameful feeling that he couldn’t throw off the blanket.
“…Shit.”
As if hearing that mumble, the lips that had been relentlessly pressing against his parted slightly. A whispered breath fell on his lips.
“What?”
If the dream just ended with sex, he could have brushed it off as mere sexual frustration. But the Kang Jihan in his dreams always spoke to him. The fact that this usually taciturn guy became talkative only during sex was eerily identical to the real thing.
So Nam Seonwoo had to grit his teeth and admit it. That this dream was, after all, his inner feelings still longing for that affection from back then.
“Why are you annoyed.”
As he hurriedly gulped in the breath momentarily allowed, Kang Jihan rubbed his cheek as if demanding an answer. When he whined “Nng” in protest, Kang Jihan mimicked the sound, vibrating his throat.
“I’m tired…”
For some reason, his body felt incredibly heavy. Perhaps he had drunk too much, as the effects of alcohol seemed to linger even in his dream. He let out a sigh, but it must have sounded like whining. Kang Jihan lowered his lips to nuzzle at his neck.
“I said I’m tired. Stop…”
Nam Seonwoo realized that even speaking required energy. He felt completely drained just from uttering those few words. Well, the Kang Jihan in his dreams had never listened when told to stop anyway. In the end, his body that got swept up in it was just the same.
Giving up on his meaningless resistance, he opened his eyelids to see a pale ceiling. As expected, this dream was in the same place again.
“You always…”
It had been quite a while since he appeared in a dream, but it was still on the officetel bed. Nam Seonwoo murmured like a sigh.
“Don’t you ever get bored?”
Now even keeping his eyes open was tiring. As he was about to close his eyes and resign himself, Kang Jihan suddenly stopped.
“Bored?”
…Why does he keep picking at my words today? Or am I just being sensitive because I’m tired?
Whatever it was, the sudden absence of the previously hot body made him feel a bit cold. As he shivered from the chill, a voice colder than the air poured out.
“Who do you think you’re with right now?”
What are you talking about? I’m freezing to death, just finish what you were doing…
Wanting to find a blanket, he fumbled at the mattress, but even that hand was caught by Kang Jihan. The grip that prevented even his fingers from wriggling was unexpectedly painful.
“Nam Seonwoo.”
Does he think others can’t make their voice that harsh? Nam Seonwoo was about to call out to Kang Jihan in the same warning tone but stopped. Somehow, calling his name in dreams seemed to leave a deeper imprint on his subconscious, so at some point, he had stopped calling Kang Jihan’s name in dreams. And it actually did reduce these strange dreams.
So he swallowed the name and said what he meant to say.
“Just hurry up and do it.”
So the dream can end.
“…”
Kang Jihan let go of his hand. The hand he had wanted to break free from just moments ago now felt regrettably cold in its absence. Had someone opened a window? It was too cold. Nam Seonwoo stretched both arms up into the air. He thought he could grasp Kang Jihan’s shoulders, his neck, and tried to pull him closer, but he didn’t move an inch.
“You seem used to this.”
His eyes opened at the unfamiliar voice. The blurry outline gradually took shape, and Kang Jihan’s face came into view. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on the face drawn by dark lines.
The atmosphere of déjà vu and unfamiliarity coexisting made him hiccup. He was flustered. Was it because the nineteen-year-old Kang Jihan had been so soft? The face before him felt utterly unfamiliar. But he knew. That this was the ‘real’ Kang Jihan.
…Fuck.
Why did it have to be this Kang Jihan? He had never once made this face in his dreams until now. It’s my dream anyway, so why do I have to face that stoic expression?
“Why are you crying?”
A surge of sadness welled up. As Nam Seonwoo bit his lower lip hard, the warmth that hadn’t shown itself until now rubbed against it.
“…You won’t even let me be angry.”
Unlike the touch that felt concerned, his voice remained cold. That temperature difference made his emotions surge once more. After glaring at those pitch-black eyes with unreadable emotions for a few seconds, his mouth moved on its own.
“You are… being angry…”
Kang Jihan raised one eyebrow. The ambiguous expression was still hard to read his thoughts. But it gave the illusion that his anger might have subsided a little.
With a laugh that resembled a sigh, Kang Jihan lowered his face. Nam Seonwoo squeezed his eyes shut at the touch on his eyelids. As the tears that had been welling up fell diagonally across his cheeks, Kang Jihan’s lips followed as if chasing them. After wiping away all traces of tears, those lips continued down to his neck.
“…Nngh.”
As the lips kept moving further down without stopping, Nam Seonwoo finally realized that he wasn’t wearing a top.
