Chapter 61
The sunken look in his eyes was solid. As Eun-hwi stared into those clear eyes that left no room even for a needle, he unconsciously stopped moving his hand and asked:
“…Why not?”
His heart sank.
Even though they hadn’t gone all the way, did he think that since they had become true adults through the act itself, there was no need for sex play anymore?
He had said he wouldn’t do it with other Mr. Kims, only with him. But he hadn’t answered the request to teach more play.
As Eun-hwi was biting his lips nervously, unable to hide his agitation, Yeo Moon-beom replied once more in a strong tone:
“With your body in this state, what play? Not today.”
Not today.
That meant they could play together tomorrow when his body recovered.
It wasn’t because he had grown tired of me.
Finally reassured, the half-dokkaebi gently interlaced his fingers, applying slight pressure. The tightly intertwined shape, like an unbreakable knot, gave an inexplicable sense of security.
Eun-hwi gently rubbed the back of Yeo Moon-beom’s hand, which he had willingly offered, with his interlaced fingers. He felt sorry for momentarily doubting Moon-beom’s concern for him due to past bad memories of being routinely rejected.
“Hey, Moon-beom.”
“What?”
“Then, can we just do skin peeling?”
“That’s forbidden today too.”
“But you said we have to do it every day…”
“There’s no need to force it. It’ll strain your body.”
“What if I’m not forcing it but want to do it?”
“Haah.”
Yeo Moon-beom sighed briefly, untangled their hands, and forcibly laid Eun-hwi down on the blanket.
“Stop being coy and lie down.”
His expression, looking down with a small vein popping on his forehead, seemed strained as if desperately holding something back. His usually composed gaze had turned sharp, and stubbornness was etched on his tightly closed lips.
“Being coy? But I wasn’t singing…”
“I didn’t mean it that way, so hurry up and lie down.”
Eun-hwi thought “being coy” meant singing well or dancing well.
He wanted to ask what Moon-beom meant, but sensing the tense atmosphere where he shouldn’t open his mouth, the half-dokkaebi tactfully buried his head in the pillow.
However, unlike his expressionless face trying to hide his emotions, the gesture of covering Eun-hwi up to his neck with the blanket was affectionate. Yeo Moon-beom spoke in a softer voice to Eun-hwi, who was peeking out with just his eyes blinking.
“We’ll see how you are after dinner. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Mm…”
“I was thinking of making chicken soup to help you recover your strength anyway.”
“Chicken soup?”
“I’ll make it spicy with lots of fern shoots and oyster mushrooms. It’ll be delicious and invigorating, right?”
Long ago, while traveling through the eight provinces of Joseon with Gabi, Eun-hwi had eaten Hamgyeong-style yukgaejang soup at an inn in Gilju.
They had just come down from Baekdu Mountain and weren’t used to human food yet. He remembered struggling to eat it with tears and snot running due to the spicy broth mixed with seasoning.
He preferred clear soups to spicy ones, but he didn’t want to miss the chance to regain his strength. He also didn’t want to disregard Moon-beom’s thoughtfulness in preparing it especially for him.
After a moment of thought, fidgeting with the blanket in his hands, Eun-hwi spoke:
“If that’s what Moon-beom wants to eat, I’ll have it too. But can you make it less spicy?”
Gabi had said that to win the heart of his mother, whom he fell for at first sight, he had cast aside his pride as the Dokkaebi King and tried his best to gain her favor.
Even giving up his beloved beef and eating only temple food following his mother.
If he wanted to ask Yeo Moon-beom, who still only thought of him as a friend, to become his lover someday, he needed to always show his best side and gain favor by adapting to the other person, just like Gabi did.
Slowly and warmly, like sunlight filtering through leaves, approaching so imperceptibly that one wouldn’t even know when it had seeped in.
And after seeping in deeply while getting to know each other, to the point where one couldn’t find where it had seeped in and thus couldn’t send it away.
Gabi had said there was nothing as desperate, earnest, secretive, and fatal as love that seeps in.
Yeo Moon-beom, who had been staring at the half-dokkaebi’s face that had never made requests before, spoke with a belated look of realization:
“So Eun-hwi can’t handle spicy food well. I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Well, you’ve never made spicy food for me… Should I have mentioned it in advance?”
“No, not necessarily. It’s good that I know now. From now on, I’ll make everything at level 1 spiciness for you.”
“What’s level 1 spiciness?”
“Mild taste. Usually, level 1 is mild, level 2 is slightly spicy, and level 3 is very spicy.”
“I see…”
Having never cooked or known how to cook, Eun-hwi found it fascinating that flavors could be categorized into such detailed levels. As he gaped in admiration with his mouth in an O shape, a sudden curiosity struck him and he asked:
“What level do you eat at, Moon-beom?”
“Level 3 or higher? When I’m angry, eating something spicy helps settle my stomach somewhat. But when that’s not enough to calm me down, I eat something sweet.”
Settles his stomach?
Doesn’t eating spicy food make your stomach hurt instead?
The first time he ate the bright red yukgaejang soup, he remembered how much he suffered, feeling like his tongue was numb and his insides were burning.
Moreover, perhaps because he had rarely been angry in his life, he couldn’t quite understand Moon-beom’s statement about needing to eat very spicy food to feel better.
It seemed like eating something sweet from the start would improve his mood without causing stomach pain.
Come to think of it, in the drama
If Yeo Moon-beom was the same, rather than finding it strange because he didn’t understand, Eun-hwi wanted to help prevent things that made him angry.
To do that…
Gazing at the somewhat regretful and lonely smile on Moon-beom’s face, as if recalling times when he couldn’t quell his anger, Eun-hwi asked once more:
“What makes Moon-beom angry?”
“You’re full of questions today, Eun-hwi.”
Though his tone seemed annoyed at first glance, Yeo Moon-beom sat down cross-legged next to Eun-hwi. As if to have a comfortable conversation until it was time to go down to the village.
“I want to know more about you, Moon-beom.”
“About me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He was curious about what Moon-beom liked and disliked, if he had family other than his mother who had gone to heaven, what kind of history he had, why he had those three scars on his face, where he lived before coming to Wolhwa Island, and how he came to know Gabi.
And everything else too.
‘I want to know. More, much more.’
Despite being close friends who even engaged in sex play together, he still knew very little about him.
Because he wanted to be loved by Moon-beom, because he wanted to love him even more than now, he wanted to start asking the questions he had only swallowed before, fearing he might be hated if he asked carelessly.
That was the only way he could become Moon-beom’s best friend and precious lover.
“Hmm…”
Yeo Moon-beom fell into thought while fiddling with Eun-hwi’s earlobe where there was a small mole.
He had thought all of Eun-hwi’s interests were focused on sex, having just awakened to it, but he hadn’t expected him to suddenly touch on his heart and ask to see his true self.
Given how curious Eun-hwi was by nature, it didn’t seem like he was asking with any particular intention. However, not wanting to brush it off with meaningless lies as before, Yeo Moon-beom chose the most euphemistic words he knew to express himself to Eun-hwi.
“When I fail to protect what should rightfully be protected.”
The image of someone who failed to protect their most precious being was clearly reflected in those pure golden eyes without a single blemish.
Meeting that gaze that was like a mirror, Yeo Moon-beom slowly continued:
“When I see monsters living only by their primal desires, I get angry.”
As he said this, he habitually stroked the scar that ran from his chin to his cheek. If there was one thing different from Jang Gitae, the monster who looked exactly like him, it would be this scar left by the white fox.
He could feel the uneven, shrunken flesh under his fingertips where new skin had grown. As he was gently tracing that scar, which confirmed that he was a monster but not the same kind of monster, the white hand that had poked out from under the blanket grabbed Yeo Moon-beom’s arm.
“I won’t live only by desire. I don’t want Moon-beom to hate me.”
As if determined not to become a monster overwhelmed by rising sexual desire, at least for today, the half-dokkaebi bit his lips tightly. His expression was so solemn that it made Yeo Moon-beom want to mischievously make him cry.
Yeo Moon-beom shook off the desire that kept raising its head at inappropriate times and gently pushed away the dokkaebi power settling into his skin.
As he became more accustomed to that power, he was able to gradually control the amount he accepted according to his will.
Of course, this didn’t mean he could draw and use the desired amount of power with just a slight touch. But it was meaningful that he could at least prevent himself from recklessly absorbing spirit power and exhausting Eun-hwi.
He had a rough idea of what Bang Ki-bong meant when he said there was something concerning that couldn’t be overlooked. Looking at the half-dokkaebi, who was purer than any being he had ever encountered in his life, Yeo Moon-beom spoke:
