CR | Chapter 5.4

Unable to resist, Woori reached out with trembling fingers and cupped Donghwa’s face. But before he could say a word, Donghwa leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Woori’s wrist, just below his hand.

“If you do this with anyone else, I won’t let it slide.”

“I’m only doing this because it’s you,” Woori replied without hesitation.

”…You better only do this with me,” Donghwa muttered, his voice low, edged with something almost desperate. His heavy breathing carried a hint of nervousness, betraying emotions he seemed unable to express outright. Even now, all he could focus on was making Woori promise not to act this way with anyone else.

What about me? Woori thought. I’d lose it if you did this with someone else.

If feelings like this ran so deep, wouldn’t it make sense to just say something? But their relationship wasn’t that simple. Donghwa wasn’t just a casual friend—he was someone Woori never wanted to lose or grow distant from. They meant too much to each other for impulsive confessions to risk ruining everything.

Despite being the one who initiated the kiss, Woori felt a tightness in his chest, as if the unresolved tension between them had only grown.

⛧⛧⛧

“Gong¹.”

Suddenly, what ball? Donghwa turned to look at Woori at the sudden word from beside him.

“Bu².”

Study? This time, his eyebrow twitched.

Midterms were approaching relentlessly, and because they both overslept, they couldn’t secure a spot in the central library. So, they turned the living room into a study area, sitting side by side at the same table.

“Shil³.”

After hearing the next word, he could infer the rest without it being said.

“Uh.”

As expected, with the word falling like a drop, Donghwa let out a sigh of disbelief. Resting his chin on his hand, he stared at Woori, who had been mumbling with his head buried in his book, finally meeting his eyes as he turned his head.

“You’ve only been sitting here for ten minutes, now.”

“I hate studying, it’s boring.”

“Who studies for fun?”

Donghwa, sharply scolding him, patted Woori’s back, urging him to sit up straight. It took forever for Woori to settle down, and only after Donghwa had been studying for nearly an hour did he finally slump in resignation.

After another five minutes spent taking out the book—and another five just to open it—it was as good as lying down and declaring he didn’t want to study the moment he flipped it open.

Donghwa shook his head in exasperation, while Woori, looking sullen, asked:

“How long are you going to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Study.”

“No, do you even realize it’s exam period?”

Donghwa looked Woori up and down with disdain.

There’s no set ‘when’ for studying during exam season. You study until you can’t anymore, and when you’re too tired, you just collapse and sleep.

Asking ‘how long’ instead of ‘how far’ you should study was even more ridiculous. Looking at Woori’s book—practically new, since he hadn’t even taken notes—Donghwa clicked his tongue.

You could pass that on to a junior as is. You’d even get full price for it. He almost wanted to applaud.

Even though it was pointless, Woori still had his forehead pressed against the book. Donghwa poked his thigh, hoping he’d come to his senses before his scholarship was cut. Woori shivered, his head snapping up as his eyebrows shot up in irritation.

“It’s boring, I’m bored.”

“Then study, if you’re bored.”

“Ugh! Why study if I’m bored! Studying makes me bored, studying does! I’m bored!”

…No, what are you doing that you’re bored?

Donghwa couldn’t understand a single word Woori was saying. No matter how he tried to grasp it by turning his head this way and that, Woori’s logic was beyond his comprehension, making his expression harden.

Suddenly, he decided it was faster to just accept that Woori was like this rather than try to understand. Telling Woori to do what he wants, Donghwa patted his shoulder and returned to his textbook. Woori’s grumbling was quite distracting, but if this continued, they’d both be doomed.

At least he needed to study so he could spoon-feed Woori answers the day before if necessary.

“Ah, Kim Donghwa.”

Woori, unaware of his own state, was throwing a tantrum because Donghwa wasn’t playing with him right away. Donghwa decided to ignore him, completely shutting his ears.

“Kim.”

Of course, they didn’t shut completely.

This time, as Woori started with his name, Donghwa adjusted his grip on the pen.

“Dong.”

With the second syllable, Woori’s hand boldly moved to Donghwa’s thigh. The explicit touch on the inner thigh was so stimulating that Donghwa twisted his waist.

“Ah, what are you doing?”

Jumping away from him, Woori smirked. Finally getting a reaction seemed to please him. Donghwa tried to calm his racing heart, his voice mixed with irritation.

“Stay still, why are you acting like this?”

“Play with me.”

“Ha…”

Donghwa, spreading a deep sigh, straightened his posture again. His lower abdomen was starting to heat up, which was quite troubling, but now was not the time to focus on that. With a frown, Donghwa pointed at Woori’s book.

“Do this much, and then we’ll play.”

Placing the pen on the open book, Woori let out a sigh. As if soothing a child, Donghwa helped him sit up and patted his butt. Then, Woori looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

“You’re really funny.”

“What now?”

What did I do?

He hadn’t done anything particularly amusing, yet Woori was scolding him for being funny, which was irritating. Donghwa set the pen down with a click. Turning his body to face Woori, he saw him twitch his eyebrow slightly.

“So, it’s okay for you to slap my butt, but not for me to touch your thigh?”

Donghwa closed his eyes tightly. How could one equate those two actions? He was at a loss for words.

Moreover, since that kiss, or rather, since their last mistake, conversations had been taking this turn, which he didn’t like. He had made a solemn vow to woo Woori properly, to start a real relationship, but this kind of erotic atmosphere was not what he intended.

Suddenly, he remembered Woori calling him a grumpy old man in a message. Donghwa set his face with determination. Even if he was a grumpy old man, so be it. What he wanted with Woori was to change their relationship first, not to rush into physical intimacy.

Besides, hadn’t Woori brought home a bunch of birth control pills, suggesting they prepare in advance? At this rate, they might end up just having wild sex without any real relationship, which worried him.

In times like these, keeping his cool was his responsibility. Woori was weak to pleasure and easily fell for temptations, so he had to be the anchor. Although, the part where Woori had touched was slowly rising without any warning.

Oh, dear me.

Holding his head, Donghwa spoke with a sigh.

“Stop setting this kind of mood and study.”

“Ha, the saint has arrived.”

“Stop with the sarcasm. Fine, I’ll play with you. Later.”

Kim Donghwa’s words came out with a tinge of irritation, enough to make Wi Woori pull back slightly, his wide eyes scanning Donghwa’s face with that peculiar, almost mischievous glint. It was hard to tell what was going on in that mind of his, but his gaze was sharp, deliberate.

Donghwa sighed internally. Maybe it’d be better to just tell him what we’ll do later. Wi Woori, after all, was someone who worked best with clear, tangible rewards. He thought quickly, trying to figure out what could motivate Woori to actually focus on studying.

What does he like the most right now?

Biking had been his latest obsession, but his wrist wasn’t healed yet. Sports were out too; Donghwa doubted Woori would appreciate being dragged into a soccer game after cramming. As Donghwa mulled over ideas, his eyes darting in thought, Woori suddenly leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Startled, Donghwa jerked back, nearly hiccupping. Woori’s face was so close that his bright red lips caught the light, making them impossible to ignore. Donghwa swallowed hard. Those lips—lips he’d tasted before—seemed to taunt him now, stirring a thirst he tried to push away.

He scrambled for a distraction. Think of something else. Military marches, maybe? Those are good for killing inappropriate thoughts. How did that old marching tune go again—

His train of thought derailed entirely when Woori broke into a dazzling smile.

“If you give me a kiss, I’ll do it.”

“…What?”

Did he hear that right? Did Woori just ask for a kiss? Donghwa blinked, dumbfounded, staring at Woori like he’d just grown a second head.

“You want a kiss? Out of nowhere?”

Woori had said some odd things lately, especially after drinking—asking if he could “make mistakes,” for instance—but this? This was entirely out of the blue and, worse, Woori was sober.

Still in disbelief, Donghwa reached out and pressed his palm against Woori’s forehead.

“Are you sick?”

Woori’s large eyes flicked up to his hand before narrowing in mild annoyance.

“I don’t have a fever,” Woori grumbled, swatting Donghwa’s hand away.

“So… you’re saying this sober? You really want to kiss me?”

“Yeah, I just… feel like kissing you, okay? Does it need a reason?”

“Of course it needs a reason!”

But even as his logical brain tried to process the absurdity, Donghwa felt his resolve waver. What was the point of overthinking it? Some part of him wanted to just go along with it for once.

“Well, I don’t want that,” he started, his voice low, “but I do want…”

Donghwa trailed off, watching as Woori tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. He reached out, gently taking Woori’s hand, which had been resting on the table.

“…this.”

Their palms pressed together, and Donghwa slid his fingers between Woori’s, lacing them tightly. The warmth of Woori’s hand seeped into his own, and for a moment, he wondered why he’d worried so much about the kiss.

Woori’s expression softened. The teasing grin vanished, replaced by something gentler.

“…Okay. I like that too.”

His voice was quiet, almost shy. Donghwa glanced up at him, catching the faint blush blooming on his pale cheeks and the soft curve of his lips.

Ah, he doesn’t dislike this.

A faint glimmer of hope bloomed in Donghwa’s chest, making him smile. He lowered his gaze briefly, hiding the relief that crept onto his face.

The conversation between them gradually fell away, replaced by a gentle, companionable silence. But the stillness wasn’t empty—it thrummed with an unspoken connection, the thudding of their hearts almost audible between their clasped hands.

For the first time in a while, the quiet between them felt more alive than any words ever could.