Swallow Hunting Chapter 72

At the pressure of the hand against his chest, Haejun slumped back against Lee Kangjoo. When the IV ran dry, Kangjoo removed the needle with practiced ease. Unlike when he’d fumbled with the water bottle, this was quick and clean. Haejun barely even felt it.

Kangjoo got up, took the porridge out of the bag Yang Seokho had brought, and set it on the table. Then he clicked his tongue at the sight of Haejun wheezing weakly on the bed.

He went into the kitchen to look for a tray, but in a place that barely had two cups and a couple of dishes, there was no such thing. Finding nothing, he carried the bowl and spoon back to the bed.

“Eat.”

“I don’t... have an appetite.”

His voice cracked harshly. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly. He’d barely had water and already his throat felt parched again.

“You have to eat to get better.”

His throat was raw, and swallowing anything felt like dragging sandpaper down it. But if he didn’t take at least one bite, it felt like Kangjoo would stand there forever holding the bowl. Haejun struggled upright with a soft grunt.

He leaned against the headboard, took a breath, and accepted the bowl — but even holding it felt like too much. When he scooped up porridge with the spoon, his hand trembled so badly he couldn’t get it into his mouth.

He wanted to cry.

Kangjoo’s gaze was so intent that he felt pressured to eat at least a bite, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

“....”

After watching him for a mont, Kangjoo sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He took the shaking bowl from Haejun’s hands, scooped up a spoonful himself, and held it to his lips. Haejun glanced up cautiously and accepted it. Even then, he struggled to swallow, just holding it in his mouth.

“Swallow.”

One quiet command.

Haejun scrunched his face and forced it down. His throat burned.

“If you can’t even eat this, we’re going to the hospital.”

There was the faintest crease between Kangjoo’s brows — subtle enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t looking closely.

Haejun’s heart dropped.

Maybe he’d pushed too far. Maybe he’d annoyed him. What if Kangjoo just left him here? Panic flared and he grabbed at the hem of Kangjoo’s clothes.

“No...! I’ll eat. I can eat. No hospital, I— cough — I don’t need to go. The IV was enough.”

Before Kangjoo, he’d just powered through with whatever dicine he bought at the pharmacy. Three days at most. This ti he’d even gotten an IV. He’d recover faster.

He tried to take the bowl himself again, nearly spilling the hot porridge onto his lap. Kangjoo clicked his tongue and once more supported his back, feeding him by hand.

He pried open Haejun’s chapped lips and waited until he swallowed before offering the next spoonful. Haejun just opened his mouth when prompted and swallowed chanically.

Whether Haejun whimpered through his aching throat or not, Kangjoo didn’t stop. If he slowed even slightly, Kangjoo simply stared at him in silent pressure until he swallowed.

“I an... the guy who ca earlier.”

To slow down the pace — and to keep Kangjoo from bringing up the hospital again — Haejun changed the subject.

“I’ve seen him at your office before. Are you close?”

“No.”

For soone not close, they’d looked pretty comfortable. Yang Seokho spoke to him without hesitation.

Even if Kangjoo denied it, their dynamic resembled Haejun and Yohan’s in so strange way. Haejun let out a small giggle.

Kangjoo looked at him, asking silently why he was laughing.

“You two seem pretty close.”

“ and Yang Seokho?”

He looked genuinely surprised.

Haejun had the ridiculous urge to smooth out that faint crease between his brows, but he kept it to himself.

“If it benefits him, that bastard would stab in the back and run.”

“Co on.”

“He’s got a cocky personality. Give him an inch and he’ll try climbing over your head.”

He was insulting him, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. For all his words, it was obvious Kangjoo had let him close.

Haejun suddenly felt jealous.

Jealous of Yang Seokho, who seed /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ like soone allowed to stay by Kangjoo’s side for a long ti.

The sharp pang of sothing like loneliness felt unfamiliar.

Now that the porridge was finished and his sweat-soaked body slled faintly sour, he tried to get up, swaying slightly.

“Where are you going.”

Kangjoo caught him again.

Sothing in his expression looked displeased, and Haejun’s voice shrank without aning to.

“I want to wash up...”

“You’ll collapse.”

“I’m much better now. Really. Thank you.”

Calling a doctor. Feeding him. It was more than enough. If Kangjoo left now, Haejun shouldn’t try to stop him. Wanting him to stay would just be selfish.

He waited, assuming Kangjoo would head for the front door.

Instead, Kangjoo walked to the bathroom and opened the door, tilting his head for Haejun to co.

Haejun blinked, unsure if he’d interpreted that correctly.

“Are you... going to wash ?”

Kangjoo nodded lightly.

“No, it’s fine—” Haejun waved both hands quickly, then imdiately staggered from the dizziness. If he hadn’t caught himself against the wall, he might’ve fallen.

He wasn’t fine at all.

He knew this wasn’t the ti to be stubborn, but he didn’t want to burden Kangjoo any more than he already had.

“It’s really not that bad—”

“It is.”

“But—”

“I hate doing the sa thing twice. I hate repeating myself even more.”

There was no arguing with that.

Even if he refused, Kangjoo would probably wash him anyway. Fighting would only exhaust him further. Haejun gave up quickly and shuffled into the bathroom.

As it turned out, just as Kangjoo was clumsy at nursing soone, he was equally unskilled at washing soone.

It took him an absurdly long ti just to shampoo and rinse Haejun’s short hair. His touch was careful, but he didn’t know how to control his strength, leaving faint red marks along Haejun’s body — behind his ears, along his neck, between his thighs, over his ass.

He hadn’t been washed by soone else since he’d lived with Yohan’s grandmother as a child. Being a grown adult and letting soone handle his body like this was embarrassingly intimate.

He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch those hands move over him. At one point he even mumbled, barely audible, asking if he could just do the rest himself.

Kangjoo ignored him entirely.

The only things he seed concerned about were whether soap got in Haejun’s eyes, whether he was hurting him, and whether he’d missed a spot.

By the ti they left the bathroom, Haejun felt completely limp. It had felt like two hours. In reality, it had only been twenty minutes, which sohow made it worse.

Kangjoo even dried his hair.

When those hands had moved over his body earlier, he’d been mortified. But now, under the warm air, he felt drowsy and content, a small smile tugging at his lips. For a mont, he wished his hair were long enough to reach his ankles — just so it would take all day to dry.

“Sir... you’ve never washed soone before, have you?”

He asked casually when the dryer turned off. His voice was hoarse, his body heavy and relaxed.

“No.”

“You’ve never shampooed soone’s hair either?”

“No.”

“Dried it?”

“...Co to think of it, I’ve done all three.”

Haejun’s faint smile froze. He turned sharply.

“When? Who?”

He had no right to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself.

The mont the question left his mouth, he felt pathetic.

Of course there’d been soone. A man like Lee Kangjoo wouldn’t have gone his whole life without a lover. Han Yeonghwa had been one, hadn’t she?

Maybe his awkwardness earlier wasn’t inexperience — just rust.

He found himself staring intently at Kangjoo’s mouth.

He didn’t want to care about past relationships. He had no place to.

But still.

“Today.”

“...Oh.”

The answer was anticlimactic.

Yet his tense shoulders relaxed instantly. The sharpness in his eyes softened.

“Oh. I thought...”

“What were you thinking.”

“Nothing. Just... you’re pretty good for soone who’s never done it.”

How could he admit that knowing he was the first person Kangjoo had nursed and washed made sothing flutter and race inside him?

He brushed it off.

Later, when he tried to clear away the porridge bowl himself, Kangjoo refused and told him not to make him serve him twice. He took the dicine Kangjoo handed him, lay down obediently under the blanket Kangjoo pulled over him.

Kangjoo sat on the sofa with a tablet, the stand lamp casting a soft glow along his profile.

Lowered eyes. Dense lashes like pine needles. A straight nose casting a sharp shadow in the lamplight.

Haejun couldn’t look away.

Yes, he was sick because of Kangjoo. Even Kangjoo couldn’t deny that.

But that didn’t an he had to stay here and take care of him.

Why is he being this good to ?

Does he think it’s his responsibility?

But guilt didn’t suit Lee Kangjoo at all.

“Why are you treating so well?”

The thought slipped out before he could stop it.

“If you die, that’d be inconvenient.”

The answer was cold.

But Haejun didn’t shrink back.

Today, Kangjoo’s kindness was well above average. He felt like he could afford to be a little spoiled. He’d already been granted so much leniency just for being sick.

“I won’t die from this... I’ve been this sick before. Back then, my grandmother took care of .”

“Grandmother?”

Kangjoo’s gaze shifted to him.

For so reason, his chest tightened painfully.

Maybe the fever hadn’t fully gone down yet.

Every ti their eyes t, his vision blurred.