24ES | Chapter 7.3

A light laugh escaped Yesung as he obediently put the cigarette and lighter back in his pocket and unwrapped the lollipop instead.

It was grape flavored. The sweet fruitiness filled his mouth, a stark contrast to the bitter taste of tobacco he had been contemplating. The candy rolled around in his mouth, making a small clattering noise. As the sugar filled him, his mood, which had been as dismal as the weather was bright, seemed to lift a little.

Maybe more effective than a cigarette.

The wind tickled his hair. With his eyes closed, Yesung tilted his head back to face the sky, slowly opening his eyes.

“Geonwoo was diagnosed with neuroblastoma¹ at age two. That was the child I spent two years with in the hospital.”

“…….”

Jung Hageon remained silent, sitting next to Yesung as if he wasn’t even there, simply holding the space. Yesung continued his monologue, sounding almost like he was talking to himself.

“Yesterday was the critical point. He had always held on, just like before. I thought this time would be no different… but…”

Up until the morning, Geonwoo had even managed to smile at Yesung and engage in conversation, though it was clearly difficult for him. Yesung had believed he was getting better. He had to believe it. But within a few hours, the boy’s condition deteriorated beyond the point of intervention.

“That was his last goodbye. Saying he wasn’t in pain anymore…”

Recalling their last conversation, a quiver that Yesung thought had stilled began to spread throughout his body. A sharp pain gripped his heart again.

He thought he had been okay. Geonwoo had been a patient through over half of Yesung’s fellowship. He had grown attached over that time, yet he hadn’t cried, not feeling the kind of loss that drove one to tears, he had thought.

As a doctor, one couldn’t forever mourn each patient lost. With time, becoming accustomed to such events seemed like a bitter but natural progression.

But he hadn’t been okay. It wasn’t just familiarity with loss; he hadn’t fully reconciled with the inevitability of death.

Tears threatened as his eyes grew hot. Clenching his fist, Yesung stared into the painfully clear sky.

If he kept looking up, he felt he might involuntarily start crying from the strain. Turning his gaze from the stubborn sky, he looked at Hageon.

A painfully sweet taste tingled on his tongue. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in his mouth along with the candy’s sweetness, Yesung asked,

“But what about you?”

“…Me?”

Hageon’s response was slow, his expression distant as if he was lost in thought. Yesung furrowed his brow.

“Aren’t you having any? Why only me?”

While Yesung experienced the spreading sweetness from the candy in his mouth, Hageon had nothing.

Somehow, that made Yesung feel a bit guilty, remembering how he had eaten the hamburger alone last time.

‘Surely, it’s not the same this time.’

With a rational suspicion, Yesung pointed to the lollipop in his mouth. Finally snapping out of his daze, Hageon let out a small exclamation,

“…I don’t have one.”

“What? None?”

That was somehow amusing. Why did he keep looking after Yesung and neglect himself?

“Tsk. Wait here.”

Yesung, who had instinctively clicked his tongue, rummaged through his pockets. He checked every pocket on his surgical gown and pants. Oddly, there was nothing. His pockets were empty.

“…Huh?”

A perplexed sound escaped Yesung as he checked his pockets again, but the result was the same.

Why was there nothing? How could there not be a single candy or piece of chocolate? Why?

Then Yesung remembered the previous night.

“This is going to kill me…”

After Hageon had left and he continued working on his paper alone, Yesung had felt drowsy after eating. He had drunk the coffee Hageon brought instead of cola, but it hadn’t helped against his severe lack of sleep. The only option had been to keep his mouth moving.

“I can’t do this.”

Eating something would surely wake him up. So, he had emptied his pockets. Every candy and chocolate was laid out and consumed on his desk.

After finishing an emergency surgery and catching up on some sleep, he had forgotten to refill his pockets.

Those candies and chocolates, which he never left behind during rounds just in case, had been completely depleted today.

Oddly enough, there hadn’t been any situation requiring a candy or chocolate, which is why he hadn’t noticed his pockets were empty until now.

With this belated realization, Yesung stood frozen for a moment. Blinking, a tear he hadn’t realized had formed rolled down his cheek.

The absence of candy and chocolate had caught him off guard, and only Hageon, who had been staring intently at Yesung, noticed the tear sliding down his cheek.

How erotic that tear-streaked, lash-fluttering look might be… Did he even realize?

Even more, a tear hung precariously, making one anxious about when it might fall.

Hageon was engulfed in an inexplicable warmth. He felt like he was going crazy because of Han Yesung.

But the other was oblivious to Hageon’s burning heart, lost in his own thoughts.

‘I feel bad because it seems like I’ve just been receiving things since yesterday.’

Hageon had refused last time, making Yesung feel shamelessly like a person who only takes without giving back.

Removing the candy from his mouth and holding it in his hand, Yesung cautiously gauged Hageon’s reaction.

“Hey, Jung Hageon… I’m not usually like this… Ah. I’m really not someone who just takes without giving back…”

He tried to explain the whole situation. He wasn’t that petty, he wanted to let him know that… but Yesung’s words trailed off. He felt a soft touch on his lips.

Yesung’s eyes widened. The artificial grape scent mixed with his breath tickled his nose. Between that and Hageon’s distinct, clean scent, it penetrated deep into his lungs.

The touch on his tender skin felt raw. Yesung held his breath. Neither Yesung nor Hageon had closed their eyes, and their locked gazes held fast.

Even if the encounter was sudden for Yesung, it was clearly premeditated by Hageon.

Yesung froze.

His deep, dark eyes seemed endless. The vagueness was like falling into the deep sea with bare skin.

A chilling silence and creeping fear made his back prickle.

Unable to bear it, Yesung tried to pull away, but a large hand firmly grasped the back of his neck. Caught by Hageon, Yesung couldn’t escape. He moved.

“!”

A tongue slipped between slightly parted lips, touched Yesung’s lip, and withdrew. It was a fleeting moment, but the lingering contact made his shoulders shiver uncontrollably.

“Crazy, crazy. Are you crazy?”

Shocked, Yesung hastily covered his mouth with his fist. He couldn’t stop the trembling voice, or more accurately, he couldn’t.

His wide-open eyes shook as if an earthquake had occurred. Yet, unlike Yesung, who couldn’t hide his agitation, Hageon remained composed.

“…Who told you to be so sexy?”

Hageon muttered, seemingly shifting all the blame to Yesung. A breeze picked up his words, and they dispersed before reaching Yesung fully.

“What? What did you just say?”

Confused, Yesung scowled. His pale face filled with questions, but Hageon showed no intention of clarifying.

“Sunbae.” Instead, he spoke softly. Yesung flinched.

What is it? Why does he call me like that? Not just his voice, but the way he looks at me is a problem, too. Caught by his calm gaze, Yesung’s throat wobbled, and Hageon said,

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking?” What was he thinking? Yesung clenched his fist, feeling unnerved, as Hageon nodded.

“Yes. If sunbae doesn’t want a serious relationship and prefers something casual… I’m okay with that.”

“…What?”

“Exactly as I said. If sunbae wants us to be just sex partners, not lovers, I’m fine with that too.”

As Hageon’s calm voice continued, Yesung was utterly dumbfounded. His jaw might as well have dropped to the floor.

Then Yesung remembered an app installed on his phone. The random chat app that had played a significant role in revealing his secret to Hageon.

Realizing why Hageon had made such a statement, Yesung furrowed his brow. He rose to his feet, looking down at Hageon.

“Crazy. Are you really crazy? If I asked you to, would you really give me everything?” His voice involuntarily rose. Hageon endured Yesung’s sharp gaze as he stood up.

“If sunbae needs it, absolutely.” The gaze that met his was undisturbed, as if showing his resolve, leaving Yesung flabbergasted.

“Are you really crazy?”

“…Maybe. I think I’m not normal, considering.”

“…”

“I’m definitely crazy about sunbae. No, I’m sure of it.”

Yesung was speechless in the face of such a serious expression, completely devoid of any playfulness.

He merely fumbled with his lips repeatedly before passing by Hageon. What to say or how to face him, he had no idea. Hageon was the first to come at him with such sincerity.

As Yesung reached for the doorknob to leave the rooftop, a voice came from behind.

“So, sunbae, please don’t use that app to meet someone else.”

If you do, I don’t know how I might react. The latter part was almost a whisper. Unlike the words carried away by the wind earlier, this time they flew with the wind and struck clearly in Yesung’s ears.

Who are you to say that?

Frustrated, Yesung let go of the doorknob and turned around, ready to retort harshly. But facing Hageon again, he found himself speechless.

The words climbed up his throat only to sink back down. Standing there felt like being in the middle of a scorching desert. It was hard to breathe as heat wrapped tightly around his body, slowly draining all moisture.

A severe thirst tightened his throat. The desire in Hageon’s eyes was that intense. He found himself unable to say anything.

Silently, Yesung turned around. He left Hageon alone on the rooftop, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Creak—Thump.

As soon as the heavy metal door closed behind him, Yesung collapsed on the spot.

“Ah…”

A deep sigh escaped through his parted lips. He harshly ruffled his hair with his hand and clenched his teeth.

The touch on his lips was vivid. Unknowingly, he had brought his hand to his face, rubbing the skin where Hageon’s lips had touched.

The sweet scent of grapes filled his nostrils. It was the smell of the grape candy he had eaten.

Realizing this sent a wave of heat to his cheeks. Thump, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, then started to pound violently.

The delayed reactions tormented Yesung. He vigorously rubbed his face with his hand.

“What am I supposed to do…”

Why was his heart racing like this? The heat rushed to his cheeks.

It was just a peck. Yet, it had such a clearly sexual undertone. He felt ridiculous for reacting so sensitively to such a minor touch.

It wasn’t his first kiss, nor was he of an age to be thrilled by such simple skinship.

“Really, what’s wrong with me, Han Yesung.”

Was it sexual frustration? Had he been too pent up, too focused on work without proper release, that such a trivial touch triggered such an overreaction?

“Should I just relieve myself once?”

The easiest way was through that problematic app on his phone, finding someone to fulfill his needs.

But why? Just thinking about accessing the app didn’t appeal to him.

Hageon’s voice echoed incessantly.

“I like you, sunbae.”

“Just because you’re sunbae. No other reason.”

“If sunbae wants, even being sex partners is fine.”

“So, sunbae, please don’t use that app to meet someone else.”

What did he really want?

“I’m going crazy, seriously.”

His contemplations were endless, but no easy answers came. Everything was too complicated. His mind was a tangled mess.

But one thing was clear. The distinct sensation still lingering on his lips. The kiss, if one could call it that, was too vivid with its sweet grape flavor to be forgotten.