Dirty Sweet Baby Chapter 32

‘Wait a minute.’

Could it be that Cha Moogyul washed him…?

Heeheon was suddenly terrified. Then again, retracing his last memory before he passed out, it made sense that he would need to be washed. It would have been strange if he hadn’t been, considering he had collapsed, soaked to the bone in rainwater. His mind snapped to attention. It didn’t feel like this was the time to be lying around listlessly.

‘Ah, get up. I have to get up right now.’

Heeheon put strength into his fingertips. His closed eyelids trembled, and he managed to open his eyes with difficulty. His vision was hazy and blurred. The core in his chest was, of course, empty and painfully sore, as if seared with a hot iron, and when he lightly touched his forehead, it seemed he was also burning with a high fever.

Before Heeheon could make a sound, Cha Moogyul was the first to murmur quietly.

“You’re awake.”

“Ugh…”

“Drink some water first.”

Cha Moogyul poured water from a glass bottle on the nightstand and held it out. It seemed he had prepared it in advance. Along with the glass of water, he also handed him a white pill. Heeheon’s body was in no condition to get up and move, but he still tried his best to sit up.

He had been worried, but fortunately, he wasn’t naked. He was wearing pajamas. It appeared Cha Moogyul had washed him and dressed him in them as well. Heeheon took the water and pill and asked cautiously.

“…What is this.”

“Fever reducer.”

“…”

“Swallow it.”

As instructed, he took a sip of water and swallowed it with the pill. His throat was also very swollen. A scratchy sensation, like swallowing a stone, traveled down his esophagus.

“Hah…”

“Good job. Lie down again.”

Cha Moogyul came over, placed the water glass on the nightstand for him, and holding Heeheon by the shoulder, laid him back down on the bed. He even supported his back and neck with his other arm so he wouldn’t just collapse. Why he was nursing him so meticulously, his kindness bred suspicion and incomprehension.

Cha Moogyul once again tucked the blanket carefully up to his neck, and the exhausted Heeheon could only stare at the ceiling and blink his eyes slowly.

The high ceiling was open and spacious, and the lighting in the stylish bedroom was soft and comfortable, but Heeheon felt an unbearable sense of suffocation.

It felt like he was being crushed.

It felt like being trapped in some narrow, lightless basement, clinging to the bars.

After staring blankly with his eyes open for a while, Heeheon parted his dry lips and mumbled.

“…Let’s quit. Us.”

He didn’t know why he said such a thing.

The words had just poured straight out of his chest, without any thought. Perhaps he had blurted them out of a desperate need to protect what little was left of himself before things spiraled to their worst.

“I’ll… I’ll get out of here.”

He had to go back. To the dorms.

It seemed the time had come for that.

“The dedicated guide thing, let’s stop that.”

“…”

“Let’s stop pretending to be brothers, and stop pretending nothing happened. This kind of thing… you and me, all of it…”

Cha Moogyul had no need to take care of Baek Heeheon’s meals, no need to nurse him, no need to do anything at all.

He had to get away from the base desires directed at him, from the shallow, selfish thought of getting a kiss on the pretext of guiding, from such temptations.

He had given in to Cha Moogyul once and been swayed, and he consoled himself that that was enough. He had settled into the vain judgment that he might be able to shake it off after indulging to his heart’s content. Without even knowing that it was an act of self-harm.

‘Guiding… As a guide, I shouldn’t have done that.’

There were responsibilities, and duties, and people whose lives and deaths depended on them.

Baek Heeheon’s feelings were poisonously heavy and large, but the greater cause was even larger. Heeheon thought of the faceless people who were likely fighting for their lives somewhere right now. People who were born as awakeners and lived only to kill creatures and protect civilians.

Baek Heeheon is a guide, and he must guide espers.

Cha Moogyul is an esper, and he has the right to receive appropriate and proper guiding.

So he couldn’t be swayed a second time.

Even if he had been swept up by Cha Moogyul once and had completely forgotten his duty, he didn’t want to do so a second time. He was ashamed of himself, hopelessly weak, and after repeating failure upon failure, only a thread of regret as an awakener remained, but it felt like he had to hold onto at least that so he wouldn’t have to blame himself any further.

Was it a confession? Or a monologue?

Heeheon cast aside his pride and laid bare his broken wounds.

And while he did so, Cha Moogyul stood stock-still by the head of the bed, watching him. The same citrus and musky wood scent as Heeheon emanated from him, his expression was stiff, and his complexion looked somewhat strangely pale.

He didn’t even blink. He maintained only silence, as if he thought just looking down at Heeheon was answer enough. His black eyes, like a remote, moonless night, his sharp gaze pouring out coolly, his admirable features reminiscent of a sculpture—the entirety that composed Cha Moogyul was perfectly still. His aura of intimidation, his omnipotence, his intensity, and even the endlessly overflowing sensuality.

Then, abruptly, he uttered two phrases.

“No. You can’t.”

Heeheon retorted feebly.

“Why.”

His voice, withered with anguish, was truly pathetic.

“I’m not your brother, and you said the sight of me makes you sick.”

“…”

“You’re sick and tired of me now, too. We agreed to be shitty to each other. So why.”

“…”

“Do you want to get back at me that badly…? Or, is it because of Moosan Group and the Ministry of National Defense…?”

Cha Moogyul moved.

A black shadow slowly approached. He came closer to Heeheon, bent his waist, and sat on the bed. For some unknown reason, he reached out his hand, and Heeheon flinched as if by instinct. At that, Cha Moogyul meaninglessly drew back the hand he had extended. His expression remained stiff.

“I wonder.”

He answered monotonously. His low voice was even more subdued than usual, as if it had dropped anchor. Heeheon, in his frustration, muttered as if screaming.

“Just tell me. I’m asking you why.”

“…”

“I said, why!”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“What…?”

Cha Moogyul recited stiffly. He was acrid and gritty, like a piece of graphite snapped in two. Without coming any closer, without reaching out his hand again, he just stayed there, at a certain distance that felt close. He was still again, as if he knew his broad shoulders and large body were a threat to Heeheon.

“I thought a conclusion had been reached once. Inside me.”

“…”

“But seeing you now, I’m starting to think maybe not…”

“…”

“Right. Let’s just say it’s on hold.”

What… does that mean?

What kind of conclusion did he reach, and what is he putting on hold, and why?

Heeheon blinked calmly, trying to uncover the meaning. But with his feverish head and collapsed body, there were far too few clues given to interpret. It was to the point where he just wanted to split Cha Moogyul’s head open and look inside his brain.

And in truth, what was actually important was not his opinion.

“…Whether a conclusion has been reached or it’s on hold. It’s not like you get to decide and I just have to follow. Don’t do as you please.”

It’s hot. It’s boiling hot.

Heeheon threw off the blanket he had been covered with, sat up, and raised his voice. His throat was severely choked up.

“Just how much more do you have to swing me around and break me before you’ll stop.”

“…”

“What do I have to do for you to stop…”

Heeheon gasped and coughed, but he precariously continued to speak. The long corners of his eyes trembled.

“I admit it. You’re right about everything. We’re not brothers.”

It was shameful to reveal the disgrace of his own lack of virtue.

“We never have been. I avoided you like the plague… I never sincerely tried to act like your brother.”

“I know.”

Cha Moogyul let out a short, self-mocking laugh.

“I’m not some pushover. You think I wouldn’t have known that?”

“Right… You would have seen through it all. You would have known.”

Cha Moogyul must have seen through Baek Heeheon’s shallow and cunning contradictions long ago. Because no matter how much he pretended otherwise on the outside, he was desperate to avoid him and unable to run away. The more he fled, the more he became Cha Moogyul’s prey.

“Then do you know this, too? The guiding you and I do, that’s not guiding.”

His eyebrows drooping, Heeheon parted his dry lips and confessed his sin.

“Principles, procedures, regulations…”

As he listed his crimes one by one, there was no end.

“Responsibility, duty, mission…”

The essence of guiding.

The foundation of a guide.

None of those things, not even a little…

“To guide you, I have to ruin all of that.”

“…”

“Until then, I had pride in this life. I was prepared to live my whole life as an awakener. I thought that was who I was now.”

“…”

“Cha Moogyul. I want to live my life honorably as a guide.”

Heeheon poured out his true feelings.

He spoke his current thoughts plainly, just as they were, without any additions or subtractions. His lips were all chapped, and his throat was scratchy and painful, but words flowed out with surprising ease. Heeheon’s sincerity was leading them on, just like that.

“Although I failed miserably as your brother, I don’t want to fail as a guide, too. Even if I can’t change my past from when I was young, the future… the days ahead… there’s still a chance, isn’t there.”

Once, Cha Moogyul had said the same to Baek Heeheon.

To just do his guiding properly.

Heeheon wanted to do it properly now, at last.

“So I’m telling you this. What we’re doing… it’s not guiding.”

“…”

“For you, it might be guiding since you’re following an esper’s instincts, but at least for me, it’s not.”

It was just a mass of depraved and dark desires.