“Gi-hyeon, are you serious right now?”
Gi-hyeon couldn’t even answer.
One hand pressed against his stomach, he curled slightly forward with his eyes shut tight. After forcing himself to eat despite having no appetite, he had predictably ended up with severe indigestion.
Normally, he prided himself on having a strong stomach. Lately, though, his body had felt strangely fragile. Minor illnesses kept piling up one after another.
Watching him sit there pale and dizzy, Yeon-oh clicked his tongue in irritation.
“You looked perfectly fine while eating.”
Gi-hyeon stayed silent.
Honestly, even he found this state pathetic.
Somewhere nearby, he heard Yeon-oh speaking on the phone.
“Yes, Dr. Park. Sorry for calling so late. Manager Yoo will pick you up shortly.”
Gi-hyeon’s eyes flew open.
“What?”
He pushed himself halfway upright in alarm.
Dr. Park?
The problem was not simply that Yeon-oh had called a doctor. The problem was that Dr. Park happened to be the Deputy Director of the main Haeseong Hospital.
Gi-hyeon worked at Haeseong Rehabilitation Centre Hospital — effectively a subordinate branch. Someone of that rank personally making a house call over indigestion was absurd.
“No, seriously, are you insane?” Gi-hyeon snapped. “Why would you call the Deputy Director for this?”
“You’re the sick one, so how is this my fault?” Yeon-oh replied immediately. “And Dr. Park became a doctor specifically to deal with situations like this. I went through the trouble of contacting him for you, and this is how you talk to your boyfriend?”
Gi-hyeon stared at him in disbelief before letting out a long sigh.
If word got around that a rehabilitation therapist already accused of getting his position through connections had summoned the Deputy Director over a stomachache, he would never hear the end of it.
The worst part was that Yeon-oh genuinely did not understand why this was a problem.
Because this was how Jo Yeon-oh cared for people.
Overwhelmingly. Excessively. Without restraint.
And somehow, hearing him casually say boyfriend again made Gi-hyeon’s chest tighten strangely.
Even if the word felt hollow sometimes, he was still grateful for it.
He just did not know what exactly he was supposed to feel grateful toward anymore.
The years of friendship Yeon-oh refused to abandon?
His stubborn loyalty?
The fact that he still stayed?
“He’ll be here soon,” Yeon-oh said. “Try not to throw up. You’ll just irritate your throat more.”
“…You should sleep too,” Gi-hyeon muttered weakly. “You must be tired.”
“You’re worried about me right now?” Yeon-oh sat down on the edge of the bed. “Just lie still.”
The mattress dipped beside him.
A second later, Gi-hyeon jerked in surprise when Yeon-oh casually lifted his injured leg and rested it across his own lap.
“What are you doing?”
“You were limping earlier. I’m massaging it.”
“I can do it my—ah.”
His ankle was painfully sensitive.
Even ordinary contact could make his entire body tense involuntarily, but Yeon-oh never seemed particularly aware of that. He often grabbed his ankle like this without warning.
Warm hands wrapped around his cold foot.
Then Yeon-oh pressed firmly against his Achilles tendon.
A shaky breath escaped Gi-hyeon before he could stop it.
“You’re completely stiff here,” Yeon-oh murmured.
Completely oblivious, he continued kneading the tight muscles in Gi-hyeon’s calf with slow, heavy pressure.
Gi-hyeon covered his face with one hand.
The problem was not pain.
The problem was that his body reacted far too easily to things like this now.
His stomach already hurt. He felt nauseous, exhausted, overheated. In that weakened state, even something as simple as Yeon-oh touching him became unbearable.
“Does it hurt that much?” Yeon-oh teased lightly. “You’re acting pathetic.”
Gi-hyeon said nothing.
The sensation had already spread lower.
The more he focused on the warmth of those hands, the harder it became to suppress his body’s reaction. Panic flickered through him as he quickly grabbed the blanket and pulled it higher across his waist.
The moment he did, Yeon-oh’s hands stopped moving.
Silence settled heavily between them.
Slowly, Gi-hyeon lowered his gaze.
Yeon-oh was staring directly at his lap.
Ah.
Fuck.
Heat rushed violently into his face as he yanked the blanket up further.
Yeon-oh opened his mouth.
At that exact moment, the intercom rang.
The timing was so perfect it almost felt cruel.
Yeon-oh stood immediately and left the bedroom to answer it, while Gi-hyeon remained frozen in place beneath the blanket, every nerve in his body burning with humiliation.
Several minutes later, the front door opened.
Voices drifted faintly through the apartment.
Would erectile dysfunction actually be that terrible?
The thought crossed his mind with startling sincerity.
If he was going to spend the rest of his life loving Jo Yeon-oh anyway, then this part of his body was practically useless.
Yeon-oh was never going to want him like that.
So what was the point of desire beyond making him miserable?
Before he could sink further into the thought, footsteps approached the bedroom.
Gi-hyeon quickly forced himself upright.
Dr. Park entered first — an older man with a gentle expression — while Yeon-oh followed behind him.
“Please stay lying down,” Dr. Park said kindly. “I heard you haven’t vomited. An IV should be enough for now. Is the nausea severe?”
His tone sounded so warm and patient that Gi-hyeon felt even more embarrassed.
“I’m alright,” he answered quickly. “The dizziness passed already.”
“I see. Then let’s get the IV set up.”
Dr. Park calmly moved around the room preparing everything himself. At one point, he even removed a framed picture from the wall to hang the IV bag from the nail behind it.
Meanwhile, Yeon-oh simply stood nearby with his hands in his pockets like a spectator.
Gi-hyeon shot him an incredulous look.
Yeon-oh only shrugged back blankly.
Spoiled rich kid habits surfaced most obviously during moments like this.
As Dr. Park inserted the needle smoothly into his vein, Gi-hyeon swallowed another sigh.
“You should try to sleep while the fluids finish,” the doctor said gently.
“That’s it?” Yeon-oh asked immediately, frowning. “He looks terrible.”
“The indigestion itself doesn’t appear too serious—”
“Doctor, look at his face. He looks half-dead.”
In reality, Gi-hyeon’s expression probably had more to do with sheer embarrassment than illness.
“I’ll be fine after some rest,” he said quickly. “Thank you, Dr. Park.”
The moment the title left his mouth, the older man’s expression shifted slightly.
Subtly.
But enough for Gi-hyeon to immediately realize only Yeon-oh called him that comfortably.
He closed his mouth at once.
Please just leave already.
Fortunately, Dr. Park soon finished up and prepared to leave.
Yeon-oh still looked dissatisfied, but after Gi-hyeon glared at him meaningfully, he finally escorted the doctor out.
The moment the bedroom door shut behind them, exhaustion crashed over Gi-hyeon all at once.
He hated strangers entering his personal space.
Being sick while dealing with this made it even worse.
A little while later, Yeon-oh returned.
After checking the IV flow, he sat back down beside the bed.
“Enduring things silently isn’t always the answer, Dr. So.”
Gi-hyeon stared ahead without speaking.
You have no idea what I’m enduring.
After a brief pause, Yeon-oh spoke again.
“…Earlier.”
Gi-hyeon looked at him.
It was unusual for Yeon-oh to hesitate over words.
“I take suppressants,” he said finally. “So I started wondering how Betas deal with that kind of thing.”
Gi-hyeon froze.
A cold feeling spread slowly through his chest.
“What?”
“You know what I mean.” Yeon-oh looked strangely uncomfortable now. “Physical urges and all that.”
Gi-hyeon said nothing.
“If it gets difficult,” Yeon-oh continued carefully, “then just… find someone safely.”
The nausea returned instantly.
“I can introduce someone if necessary,” Yeon-oh added. “Someone reliable.”
For several seconds, Gi-hyeon genuinely could not process what he had just heard.
Then anger hit him all at once.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“Don’t curse while you’re sick.”
Yeon-oh’s voice remained frustratingly calm.
Gi-hyeon pushed himself upright too quickly, pain flashing through his head as the IV line tugged sharply.
Even then, Yeon-oh’s eyes immediately dropped to his wrist instead of reacting to the anger itself, clearly more worried about the needle moving than the conversation.
That somehow made it worse.
“…What about you?” Gi-hyeon asked hoarsely. “Are you planning to sleep with other people too?”
Yeon-oh’s expression changed instantly.
Deep offense crossed his face, as though the suggestion itself was ridiculous.
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
The reaction hurt so badly Gi-hyeon almost laughed.
“I’m your boyfriend,” Yeon-oh said sharply. “Why would you even ask me that?”
There it was again.
That word.
Boyfriend.
Used so naturally while meaning something entirely different to each of them.
Gi-hyeon closed his eyes briefly.
“Ever since we started dating, I haven’t touched anyone else,” Yeon-oh continued. “You know that.”
Then, after a pause:
“But I can’t help you physically in that way, so I’m telling you to handle it safely instead.”
Safely.
Reasonably.
Practically.
Like he was discussing medication.
Gi-hyeon could not even begin to untangle the logic.
What exactly are we to each other?
What does dating even mean to you?
But there was nothing he could say.
Because the truth was simple.
He had been the selfish one first.
The one who confessed.
The one who ruined the easy shape of their friendship.
Yeon-oh leaned over slightly and adjusted the blanket over him again with absent familiarity.
“Go to sleep,” he said quietly. “I’ll remove the IV later.”
Something hardened painfully in Gi-hyeon’s chest.
But in the end, he said nothing.
Maybe this really was punishment.
Maybe this was simply the price of wanting too much from someone who had never learned how to love him the same way.