One Day, A Gangster… Chapter 17.1

Wooyoon woke up with a dry throat, his hand reaching out to the empty space beside him. The spot where warm skin should have been was cold, as if it had been vacant for a long time. In the past, he would have been consumed by anxious thoughts, but Wooyoon now knew that Pilsung wouldn’t stray far from him.

It was partly due to his growing trust in Pilsung, but also because of Pilsung’s increasingly overprotective behavior. Stories of the top gangster Baek Pilsung’s doting on his wife were circulating like urban legends, not only within the office but also among the gangsters in their territory.

“Pilsung.”

There was no answer. Wooyoon sat up, his body heavy with fatigue from the frequent bouts of morning sickness, though his belly wasn’t showing much yet.

Pilsung was sitting at the table, which he had moved from beside the bed to the kitchen. Wooyoon got out of bed and approached Pilsung, who was sitting motionless in the dimly lit kitchen, only the auxiliary light above him turned on.

“……”

The scratching sound of a pen filled the silence. Wooyoon stood behind Pilsung and peeked over his shoulder. Pilsung, with earphones in, was writing diligently in an office notebook with “Baek Pilsung’s Office” printed on the corner.

Wooyoon stared at Pilsung’s writing for a moment, then burst into laughter. Pilsung took out his earphones and looked up.

“Why are you awake? Do you need something?” He shifted his weight, as if ready to fetch anything Wooyoon asked for.

“What are you doing, not sleeping?” Wooyoon knelt beside him and put his arm around Pilsung’s neck. Pilsung, sitting cross-legged, pulled Wooyoon onto his lap. He tapped the notebook filled with his writing. “Prenatal education. They say the baby can hear everything soon.”

Lately, Pilsung had been constantly reading books on childbirth and parenting, whenever he had free time, both at the office and in the car. He had become quite knowledgeable, which reassured Wooyoon, but also annoyed him with the constant nagging.

Wooyoon took the earphone from Pilsung’s hand and put it in his ear. An unfamiliar pop song was playing. “Are you going to sing and record this for me?”

Pilsung nuzzled Wooyoon’s neck, his eyes on the notebook where he had written down the lyrics phonetically. “I seduced you with this song, so I have to seduce Mango with a song too, asking him to be nice to his useless father.” He whispered and kissed Wooyoon’s neck. Wooyoon giggled, pulling out the earphone, charmed by how naturally Pilsung used the baby’s nickname.

Pilsung had originally wanted to get a proper, traditional, auspicious nickname from a naming expert. But ever since Wooyoon, feverish and suffering from morning sickness, had clung to Pilsung’s shirt in the middle of the night, crying for an apple mango, the baby’s nickname had been Mango.

-The one you bought me in the summer… the red mango… I want to eat that…

Pilsung had immediately gotten dressed, ready to break into a closed supermarket if he had to.

-Pilsung, I’ll just… endure it… don’t cause trouble…

At Wooyoon’s earnest plea, he waited until sunrise and then rushed to the supermarket to buy a whole box. Even now, with Wooyoon suffering from severe morning sickness, unable to eat anything, apple mango was the only thing he could stomach.

Even though he couldn’t eat much because of his blood sugar, the apple mango miraculously eased his nausea. Wooyoon figured it was because he had good memories associated with it.

“Why are you awake anyway? Go back to sleep.” 

He said, but didn’t make any move to let Wooyoon go, his lips moving from Wooyoon’s neck to his shoulder. He pulled down Wooyoon’s loose shirt and licked his skin.

He sucked on Wooyoon’s pale skin, leaving red marks, and nibbled on it, leaving teeth marks. Wooyoon’s thin skin bruised easily, and Pilsung found it alluring.

He was already getting hard just from sucking on Wooyoon’s skin a little, but he stopped and pulled his shirt back up. The doctor had said sex wasn’t a major concern for male omegas during pregnancy, but Pilsung didn’t want to bother Wooyoon, who was constantly nauseous and sleepy, so he was trying to restrain himself.

While Pilsung was trying to distract himself, Wooyoon put down the notebook with the lyrics and realized he was hungry. 

“I woke up because I’m hungry.”

“Damn it, of course you’re hungry, you haven’t even been able to drink water properly all day.” 

Pilsung clicked his tongue, annoyed, his rough language still unchanged despite quitting smoking. He gently rubbed Wooyoon’s belly, which was almost concave from the morning sickness. He wished he could take on the morning sickness for Wooyoon.

Or better yet, he should have been the one getting pregnant. Why was Nam Wooyoon, with his delicate constitution, suffering like this, while he, a perfectly capable alpha, was just fine? Pilsung couldn’t understand it. All he could do was peel apple mangoes for Wooyoon.

He cut a mango in half and placed it on a plate. Wooyoon offered him a piece.

“Do you think I’m going to eat yours when I have plenty of my own? Eat it all.”

“I just… wanted to share…”

Pilsung, seeing Wooyoon’s pouting face, took the piece of mango and ate it, then rested his chin on his hand, pushing the notebook aside, and watched Wooyoon eat.

“Damn, you’re so skinny.” He reached out and caressed Wooyoon’s cheek.

This won’t do. I need to go to church tomorrow and make a deal. God didn’t seem to listen to him much usually, but He was more receptive when it came to Nam Wooyoon.

Pilsung figured God probably felt sorry for Nam Wooyoon. If He had favored him, he wouldn’t have had such a difficult life before they met. He must be making it up to him. So Pilsung decided to ask God to look after Nam Wooyoon, to ease his morning sickness and help him eat properly for the rest of his pregnancy.

Pilsung’s prayers were answered. Whether it was due to the gangsters’ loyalty or divine intervention, Wooyoon’s morning sickness disappeared completely after Pilsung’s visit to the church with his men. Instead, Pilsung and his entire office started experiencing morning sickness.

For a while, the sound of gagging filled Baek Pilsung’s office day and night. Director Kim, examining the group, concluded that it was either a coincidence or a psychological phenomenon, and added that those idiots were truly something else.

* * *

Pilsung looked down at Wooyoon’s small hand gripping his tightly, trembling visibly. He squeezed Wooyoon’s hand and stroked his forehead, and Wooyoon’s eyes, which had been fixed on the ceiling, slowly moved to meet Pilsung’s. Tears welled up in his eyes. Pilsung touched the corner of his eye and asked softly, “Are you very scared?”

“No, not really…”

His trembling voice betrayed his fear. Wooyoon, trying to appear calm despite his obvious anxiety, pulled Pilsung closer. Pilsung leaned over the bed where Wooyoon was lying. Wooyoon glanced around the waiting room and whispered in Pilsung’s ear, “If I scream… come save me… okay?”

Pilsung nodded, even though he didn’t know how Wooyoon planned to scream while under anesthesia. “I won’t go anywhere. If you scream, damn it, I’ll run in right away.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I swear on my life.”

Baek Pilsung was a man of his word, and if he swore on his life, which wasn’t just a finger, he would definitely keep his promise. Reassured, Wooyoon’s tears subsided, and he hugged Pilsung tightly. Pilsung felt something rustling in his jacket pocket.

“Pilsung, there’s… a letter for you here.”

“A letter?”

“Yeah… I wrote it… last night…”

Pilsung reached into his pocket as if to read it immediately. Wooyoon quickly grabbed his wrist and shook his head. “Read it after I go in.”

Pilsung nodded, kissed Wooyoon’s lips, and caressed his slightly swollen belly. With that brief farewell, he left the waiting room.

He paced the hallway outside the operating room, staring down at the hand that had been holding Wooyoon’s. He clenched his fist, feeling a sense of emptiness.

He sat down on a chair, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep. He knew Wooyoon’s request to save him if he screamed was absurd, but he couldn’t help but listen intently for any sound from the operating room, his hand on his chest.

He reached into his pocket and felt the crumpled note. He sat down and read Wooyoon’s short letter with a serious expression.

「Pilsung… if something happens to me… don’t ever remarry…」

So that’s what he was writing last night, lying on the floor while Pilsung was packing his bag in the dressing room. A morbid little will. Wooyoon’s tearful face from earlier overlapped with the carefully written words.

「Don’t even date… just live alone… in the mountains…」

A dried tear stain marked the word “date.” Pilsung gently touched the wrinkled spot.

The contents of the will were absurd, but he couldn’t laugh. He just felt sorry for Wooyoon. He felt guilty, like he had dragged the small, vulnerable Nam Wooyoon into unnecessary hardship.

「I love you so much, Baek Pilsung.」

“……”

Pilsung, his elbows resting on his spread thighs, reread the letter several times, then, with the letter clutched in his hand, he prayed more earnestly than ever before, repenting for his past sins, asking for nothing but Nam Wooyoon’s safe return.

* * *

As soon as Wooyoon returned to his room after the surgery, still groggy from the anesthesia, he looked for Pilsung. Pilsung, impressed and心疼 by Wooyoon, who had bravely gone through childbirth alone, simply held his hand without saying a word.

Pilsung had met Mango, who had been taken out of the operating room before Wooyoon, and Wooyoon scolded him for not taking any pictures of Mango being transferred to the nursery. Pilsung tried to explain that he had been too worried to think about taking pictures, but his excuse crumbled when Wooyoon asked, “Were you more out of it than me?”

Wooyoon had to wait a day before he could see Mango.

Pilsung smoothed Wooyoon’s ruffled hair as he slowly pushed the IV stand. “The baby’s a bit swollen, but he looks just like you.”

“Swollen… but… looks like me…?” Wooyoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then elbowed Pilsung in the stomach. Pilsung chuckled.

“He’s so fucking cute because he looks like you.”

“Baek Pilsung, we agreed you would watch your language around Mango.”

“Ah, fuck! Right!” Pilsung smacked his forehead, unable to stop cursing, and Wooyoon chuckled. Even Pilsung, who had forced his entire office to quit smoking, couldn’t seem to break his habit of cursing, perhaps a remnant of his years as a street thug.

Pilsung continued to caress Wooyoon’s cheek as they waited outside the nursery. Wooyoon, unsure if Pilsung was comforting him or teasing him, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, feeling tears welling up.

“Hey, you’ll hurt your eyes.”

Wooyoon ignored Pilsung and continued rubbing his stinging eyes. A nurse came out of the nursery, carrying the baby. Wooyoon’s eyes filled with tears as he pressed his forehead against the nursery window.

Mango, bundled in a blanket with “Nam Wooyoon” written on it, only his round face visible, looked more like a doll than a human. He was tiny.

Is that really our baby? He was more wrinkly yesterday? He’s become so much prettier in just one day?

Pilsung tilted his head, his thick eyebrows twitching, keeping his thoughts to himself.

The nurse, after showing Mango’s face from different angles, placed him near the window. Wooyoon’s eyes were glued to Mango’s face. Pilsung chuckled, watching Wooyoon, his nose pressed against the glass, and Mango, lying quietly, his mouth moving slightly.

“See, he looks like you, right? Long eyelashes, small, red lips, your mini-me. Ah, but we’ll have to wait until he opens his eyes to see their shape… I hope he doesn’t inherit mine…”

Wooyoon continued staring at Mango’s face, ignoring Pilsung’s increasingly anxious voice. Just then, Mango, frowning and scrunching up his face, opened his eyes one at a time, as if he understood what Pilsung had said. His eyes, large for a newborn, were downcast at the corners, just like Wooyoon’s. Pilsung, seeing his gentle, innocent eyes, burst into laughter.

“He… looks like me…” Wooyoon finally mumbled, his eyes still glued to the window.

“Pilsung… he looks like me… my baby…”

“Yeah.”

“Our baby…”

“……”

Pilsung, sensing the tremor in Wooyoon’s voice, put his arm around his waist. Wooyoon turned and hugged Pilsung tightly, burying his face in his chest, his shoulders shaking with sobs. 

“He’s… sob… our family… I… hngh! We really… made a family…”

“You should be looking at his face, not just crying…” 

Pilsung gently patted Wooyoon’s back, which was warm from crying. He understood Wooyoon’s overwhelming emotions and felt sorry for him, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Wooyoon’s tears of joy, the small movements of the tiny life behind the glass, filled Pilsung with happiness.

He hugged Wooyoon close and whispered, “From now on, there are three of us.”

“Yeah…”

“Let’s live happily together, the three of us.”

“Yeah…!”

Pilsung chuckled at the energetic reply and kissed the top of Wooyoon’s head, glancing at the window. A pair of bright, star-like eyes were staring back at them. Pilsung, his lips still pressed against Wooyoon’s hair, waved gently at their new family member.