Dirty Sweet Baby Chapter 33

Cha Moogyul slowly furrowed his brow.

Within his distorted eyes, his jet-black pupils held their breath. As if ready to leap at any moment, they were densely packed with obsession. And once again, a sneering, bitter laugh escaped him.

“I know.”

“…What?”

He knows? Cha Moogyul does?

What…?

“I know that, too. That it’s not guiding.”

Cha Moogyul, right now, what is Cha Moogyul saying…

Heeheon’s mouth fell open in shock. No sound came out of his throat.

“No way is stripping someone down and fucking them guiding. Unless you mean rape.”

“…Uh.”

“Well, there was also the thought of making Baek Heeheon suffer once.”

“…”

“Normally, you wouldn’t suck a raw dick as guiding, would you.”

What, uh… Huh…?

Heeheon, who had been frozen in astonishment for a long while, stammered like an idiot.

“Then, you did it, on purpose…?”

“Yeah.”

“Why, why?”

“Because I was pissed off.”

“What…?”

What did he mean? Did he really want revenge that badly? For a reason like, go fuck yourself once?

“You know. There are times I want to just kill you, hyung.”

A shiver of superpower vibrated from Cha Moogyul’s entire body.

“Let’s say I let you go now, and we quit all this shit like you want. Then you should write a suicide note first.”

Even without his intention, his subconscious was drawing out and emitting his superpower. A horrifying killing intent cut through the air, centered on where he sat.

“Because the moment I get my hands on you again, I’ll kill you for sure, and shatter that core inside your chest…”

A strong wind blew inside the closed room, and the ceiling light flickered.

Cha Moogyul stared at Baek Heeheon murderously.

He was serious.

Just as serious as Baek Heeheon was.

“…”

It was finally sinking in.

His message that the sight of Baek Heeheon made him sick was true.

He hated Heeheon. Perhaps as much as, or even more strongly than, Heeheon had ignored him.

Heeheon couldn’t dare to fathom why Cha Moogyul despised him so much. It was clear that avoiding him had gotten on Cha Moogyul’s nerves a bit, but that was far from enough to be the cause for such ferocious hatred.

‘I don’t know.’

Beeeeep. A high-pitched ringing echoed in his ears. His thoughts stopped, and his judgment blurred.

Why Cha Moogyul.

For what reason on earth did he build up enough resentment to harbor a murderous intent toward Baek Heeheon?

Had the past eight years accumulated something of that depth for Cha Moogyul as well, not just for Baek Heeheon?

The superpower he possessed pressed down on Heeheon’s skin, making it sting. He couldn’t have been intentionally attacking. It was just that his emotions had intensified, and his superpower was reacting to Cha Moogyul’s will.

He warned him bleakly.

“If you understand, don’t ever say you’re going to quit again. I’m holding back by a pretty narrow margin, you see. To keep from completely breaking you.”

“…”

“I’m a fucking nice little brother, aren’t I?”

Cha Moogyul grinned, dispersing the superpower that filled the bedroom. The flickering light returned to its original soft glow, and the killing intent that had been about to swallow Heeheon subsided. The wind died down.

Heeheon, who had been holding his breath, gasped softly. Cha Moogyul had Heeheon, who was trembling and struggling, lean against him, then carefully laid him down on the bed.

“For now, get some sleep and rest. You have a high fever.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll make some porridge. Get up and eat it.”

“…”

“Call me if you feel like you’re going to die.”

Cha Moogyul placed Heeheon’s pager on the nightstand next to the bed, in a clearly visible spot. It was in a position where he could reach it just by extending his hand.

He stood up, leaving the dazed Heeheon behind. He turned off the bedroom light, went out, and slowly closed the door.

And just like that, he left. After, as always, turning Baek Heeheon’s world completely upside down.

Drugged by the medicine, Heeheon fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t dream. His subconscious didn’t retrace old memories. For a very long time, as if dead, he sank into a long sleep, like waiting for eclosion in a chrysalis or hibernating.

Occasionally, when he opened his eyes, he saw a vision of Cha Moogyul. He was in the corner by the bedroom window, watching Heeheon. Heeheon briefly wondered if he was finally developing a mental illness. Cha Moogyul looked at Heeheon with a blank face, and on the nightstand next to the bed, there was always water, medicine, and the black, square pager.

<Call me if you feel like you’re going to die.>

So, at one point, he thought about just calling him.

His breath was coming in short gasps, the fever wouldn’t go down, and it was hard to guess how much time had passed, how many days had gone by, so the impulse briefly struck him. He reached out and grabbed the pager. He wanted to call Cha Moogyul, and he had a mountain of questions he wanted to ask.

‘Why Cha Moogyul. Why.’

He remembered his eyes. Those two eyes, black and distant, seething with simmering passion. He remembered his touch as well. The sensation of his touch was still vivid. He couldn’t forget how his hands had caressed him, how he had kissed him, where he had licked and sucked him.

<You know. There are times I want to just kill you, hyung.>

He had sneered while looking at Heeheon. He had given off a dangerous atmosphere.

He had said he had reached a conclusion once. But he had also said it was on hold.

What did Cha Moogyul feel toward Baek Heeheon? What did he think about Baek Heeheon? From one to a hundred, it was all a mystery that couldn’t be solved. That’s why he wanted to know every single detail even more.

Why did he insist on having Baek Heeheon as his guide? When he said it was shitty. If it was so shitty, why had he acted that way toward Baek Heeheon until now? By common sense, isn’t it true that you don’t strip and pounce on someone you hate enough to want to kill? In the first place, for what reason did Cha Moogyul hate Baek Heeheon enough to want to kill him?

Heeheon had always been lonely. He had agonized, deliberated, and worried himself sick alone, swallowing his secrets. He had intended to suffer alone like that forever. He had planned to hide and conceal it until the very end, to never pull his soul out of his chest, not even in his final moment of death.

‘Maybe.’

Perhaps.

‘Cha Moogyul, too…’

Like Heeheon, could it be that he had been swallowing something alone?

This might just be him painting a hopeful fantasy with a sick body and a tired mind. Like seeing visions of Cha Moogyul. Like projecting the impossible wish that he would be there by Heeheon’s side.

Could there be a possibility that Cha Moogyul was, in fact, just as lonely as Baek Heeheon was lonely, and that Cha Moogyul had, in fact, agonized just as much as Baek Heeheon had agonized? Such a vain wish settled in Heeheon’s chest like a feather.

‘No, that can’t be right. It’s Cha Moogyul.’

Cha Moogyul, of all people, toward Baek Heeheon…

There’s no way…

It would be a futile delusion anyway. Because even if Heeheon tried to guess his way of thinking and the principle of his actions, it would only remain from Baek Heeheon’s perspective. Heeheon had only just peeked at the very edge of his abyss, and yet, even that was too much for him to handle, causing him to be bedridden like this. Cha Moogyul was not a difficult problem that Baek Heeheon could solve by struggling alone.

‘I guess I’ll only know if I ask.’

Grab hold of him, one by one.

Why he wants to kill him.

Why he won’t let him go.

Why he guided him like that.

He didn’t know if that bastard would give him a straight answer even if he asked one by one… But at this point, Heeheon was at his limit anyway. The edge of a cliff. He had sunk to the bottom of the sea with nowhere else to be pushed, and on top of that, he was being held so he couldn’t even quit. If he were to back down from here, he would have to write a suicide note first and then quit, just as he had said.

‘…’

Heeheon gripped the pager tightly in his hand.

He had said to call if he felt like he was going to die, but fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t feel like dying just yet. He would just fall asleep as if escaping, and when he woke up, he would feel a little anxious and see his vision, and his hands would tremble for no reason. This much wasn’t actually enough to kill him. Heeheon hugged the pager to his chest and curled up in bed.

‘I wonder if he’ll even come if I call.’

In the first place, is Cha Moogyul the type of person to come just because Baek Heeheon calls?

There are empty chairs scattered everywhere. Even now. Is he the kind of person who would come if Baek Heeheon called, who could be caught if he tried to catch him…?

‘Hah.’

Even while being sure that it wasn’t the case, Heeheon couldn’t let go of the pager. He held it in his arms and closed his eyes. It felt like he was with him. He had the illusion of being connected to a part of him. He dozed off again. So much so that he didn’t know how much time had passed.

Clatter.

Then, a small noise woke his nerves. He sensed a presence, and it seemed a blurry shadow was moving back and forth before his eyes. And a cool hand touched his forehead.

He didn’t know Cha Moogyul’s low body temperature could be this welcome.

‘…’

Heeheon’s eyelids fluttered open to look at him. Afraid that he would leave while he hesitated, he forced his eyes open despite not being fully awake and took him in with his hazy mind. He slowly removed the hand that had been on his forehead.

‘…What a shame.’

It feels nice and cool.

Heeheon swallowed a sigh. He didn’t want Cha Moogyul to move away. Was it because he was sick? Emotions that he would normally have hidden well without showing any signs were leaking through the cracks of his fingers. Heeheon stared blankly at Cha Moogyul with his listless eyes. His pupils were pleading as if clinging to him.

Cha Moogyul also looked down quietly at the feverish Heeheon. He was wearing just a light shirt, and his face was paler than usual. Looking closely, it seemed he was indeed a little pale.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. But this is good.”

He sat at the head of the bed. And there was something he had brought with him. A tray holding a porridge bowl was placed on the nightstand.