Icing on the Cake Chapter 23

Before Yuri could even turn off the engine, Cheriot leaned in close. With a serious gaze fixed on Yuri, he asked.

“Do you carry a first-aid kit or anything? You should at least put something on that.”

Applying medicine for a bruise—Yuri twisted the corner of his mouth as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing.

“Are you done checking?”

“No. You might be hurt elsewhere too—take off your coat. That crazy bastard earlier…”

Cheriot trailed off, hesitating. He must have recalled the gunfire—his eyes darkened for a moment.

“…He shot at you.”

Cheriot fell silent. With eyes lost in thought, he stared at Yuri for several minutes without speaking. Yuri, inwardly exhausted, took the opportunity to relax his body. Leaning back against the driver’s seat, fatigue washed over him. Glancing at the time, it was already 3 a.m. He’d been awake for an entire day.

Staying up for days on end was something he’d done plenty of in the past, but after living relatively comfortably for a while, his body felt the exhaustion from something like this. Deciding he needed to find a place to rest for a few hours, Yuri spoke to Cheriot.

“I’m going to start driving again. When we hit a rest stop, I’ll withdraw cash, and you can look for whoever you originally wanted. Until your new person arrives, I’ll stay by your side. After all, part of the reason we ended up in this situation is because I failed to prepare thoroughly…”

Quietly swallowing a tired breath, Yuri raked his hair back. His eyes felt stiff and dry.

“I’ll do my best to make sure we don’t end up in a situation as dangerous as what happened at the hotel.”

He considered saying he regretted what had happened, but it would only sound hypocritical, so he kept his mouth shut. Cheriot, who had been listening quietly, answered as soon as Yuri finished.

“How is that your fault?”

His low, quiet voice resonated calmly through the car.

“It’s those bastards who came to kill me who are at fault.”

Letting out a sigh, Cheriot pushed his passenger seat back and twisted his body toward the suitcase on the back seat. Because of his large build, his shoulder thumped against the car’s ceiling. Pulling out a water bottle and a handkerchief from the suitcase, he opened the cap and wet the handkerchief with the bottled water. Yuri watched him silently—soon, a damp cloth touched his face.

“The one who pretended to have a partner was his own omega—so the gang leader coming after me is the worst of all. I thought they were after money, but I didn’t expect them to shoot on sight. Whether it’s out of love or pride, I don’t know. Honestly, it was terrifying.”

Contrary to his assumption that there were no cuts, the handkerchief used to wipe his face came away stained with blood. Yuri frowned not at the stinging pain, but at the awkward touch, and twisted his chin away. This time, instead of grabbing his chin, Cheriot followed Yuri’s face as he tried to evade, closing the distance.

“Thank you for saving me. Separate from the fact that you’re a bad person, I should still show gratitude.”

Yuri, who had been avoiding Cheriot’s touch, paused and froze. It was an unexpected thanks. It was his job, after all—and more than that, it was surprising that someone would show courtesy to a scumbag like him.

While he stopped avoiding, Cheriot finished wiping Yuri’s face. Perhaps because of Cheriot’s body heat, the wet handkerchief wasn’t cold but tepid—the damp sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

The smell of fabric softener, Cheriot’s pheromones, a faint hint of skin lotion. Feeling someone else’s scent so close, Yuri’s eyelashes fluttered briefly. An awkwardness lingered, making movement feel cumbersome.

Since blood had gotten on it, it was better to wipe it off.

Deciding it was best to leave Cheriot alone for now, Yuri tried to stay still. But enduring someone else wiping his blood proved difficult—he eventually opened his mouth.

“I’m not much different from the ones who came after you, you know.”

Cheriot shrugged.

“I know.”

His nonchalant attitude left Yuri a bit incredulous.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t even want to touch a bad person?”

“Disliking you and touching you are separate things.”

It made no sense to him. People hated filth, and so they avoided it.

“If I disgust you, you wouldn’t want to touch me either.”

“You’re my type, so it’s fine.”

Cheriot brought up the “type” thing again. Deciding to ask about his strange preferences, Yuri pressed him.

“…I don’t understand why you keep talking to another alpha like that.”

“I was just stating the truth. Do you not like hearing it?”

At Yuri’s question, Cheriot looked down at him and smiled faintly. His wariness seemed to have eased slightly. Letting his guard down just because someone saved his life—humans were always capable of stabbing you in the back. Yuri internally worried about his naivety.

“Not exactly pleasant to hear.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“Maybe from an omega, but I don’t want to hear it from an alpha.”

To be fair, he didn’t particularly want to hear it from an omega either, but anyway—an alpha talking like that was outside Yuri’s frame of reference.

“Whether alpha or omega, in the end they’re just one person.”

“Alphas don’t touch each other like this. Maybe with an omega, but not like this.”

At his rigid answer, Cheriot withdrew the handkerchief and laughed.

“Haha.”

A low, resonant laugh followed. Curling the corners of his mouth slightly, he tossed the bloodied handkerchief onto the back seat. Then he opened the passenger door and spoke.

“You have no idea how amazing it can be between alphas, do you.”

At the abrupt remark, Yuri frowned and sat up. Cheriot stepped out and gestured to Yuri.

“Switch seats. I’ll drive. I don’t want to make an injured person drive.”

“…Stop with the useless talk. Get back in.”

Cheriot, who had been relatively cooperative in dangerous moments, had already reverted to his usual willful self. Walking around to the driver’s side, he rested his arm on the car frame and bent his upper body at an angle, looking down at him. Tap, tap. Yuri rolled down the window at the gesture.

“I got to rest a bit at the hotel, but you’ve been moving the whole time. I think you falling asleep at the wheel would be more dangerous. Don’t you agree?”

It was hard to argue with that. It wasn’t so much that he was sleepy—he was just too exhausted, and the thought of closing his eyes even for a moment surged up. Reluctant to give in to the desire to rest, Yuri hesitated, and Cheriot said calmly.

“Honestly, you’re tired. It’s okay to rest.”

On the quiet mountain highway with no passing cars, Cheriot’s voice echoed softly. Yuri’s lips parted as he gripped the steering wheel. He felt he should refuse, but the words wouldn’t come. In the end, he let go of the wheel. Cheriot, as if he’d been waiting, pulled the driver’s door handle.

They switched seats. As Cheriot closed the passenger door, he started the engine. Pulling out his phone, he asked Yuri.

“So, where to?”

Yuri leaned his tired body against the seat and rubbed his eyelids. He’d been driving with only the thought of getting away from the city center, so he had no destination in mind. He’d rarely had to decide such things.

“Wherever you want to go.”

Something Yuri didn’t have. Something only people like Cheriot possessed.

“Kelowna?”

“Too many people there.”

Tch. Cheriot pouted his lips. Resting his arm on the steering wheel, he looked at Yuri and asked.

“Then what kind of place works?”

“Few people… and a place with no young kids who’ll post on social media if you walk around.”

“Do places like that even exist these days?”

As they talked, exhaustion hit Yuri suddenly and he fell silent. Seeing this, Cheriot started driving without a word.

Cheriot didn’t fully close the window he’d left open. Leaving it open just enough to let in a faint breeze, he drove with surprising stability. Yuri stared outside, trying his best not to fall asleep in case of any unforeseen events.

Under the pitch-black night sky with no streetlights, only the car’s headlights illuminating the road, large trees appeared here and there in the beam. Watching the branches dance along the whooshing wind, Yuri’s eyes gradually began to close. Beyond his slowly darkening vision, he could hear Cheriot humming a quiet tune.

So carefree.