TTDOTO 6.7 Hospitalization

Lee Jae-an was gravely ill. Even when his body had first been forced open, it hadn’t been this bad. The numbers on the thermometer tucked into his small ear showed no sign of dropping below 39°C. His entire body was seething with fever.

About two hours after being fed fever reducers, he would barely manage to open the eyes he had kept shut all day. Whenever Seo Jae-rim tried to feed him something then, Jae-an would inevitably throw it back up shortly after. Whether his consciousness was drifting due to the heat, Jae-an repeatedly called out for “Mom.” He searched incessantly for the mother who had supposedly died when he was a child.

It was irritating to hear a man in his thirties calling for his mother like a child, but the sound was less about sorrow and more akin to someone crying out in sheer terror, which made Jae-rim pay even more attention to it.

Jae-an would let out occasional gasping hiccups, gripping the blankets tight as his entire body went rigid. By the time Jae-rim finished massaging the body that was as stiff as a log, Jae-an would collapse from exhaustion, tears still clinging to his long eyelashes.

Jae-an’s body was burning, while Jae-rim’s hands were on the colder side. Whenever those chilly hands roamed over his body, Jae-an would smooth his furrowed brow and press himself closer. When Jae-rim went as far as letting him use his arm as a pillow, Jae-an—not knowing whose chest he was leaning on—would bury his forehead deep into Jae-rim’s chest and wrap his legs around him as if he were a jukbuin. The delirious Jae-an was, in his own way, perfect for satisfying Jae-rim’s base desires.

Whether Jae-rim kissed his protruding collarbones, his thin ribs, or the skin beside his navel—or even if he sucked on his fingers and toyed with his tongue—Jae-an offered no reaction other than his feverish, shallow breaths. Using the fever as an excuse, Jae-rim spent the nights touching and embracing the limp Jae-an.

Regardless of the reason, a compliant Lee Jae-an was easy to handle. There were no stifled groans, no lips bitten shut with obvious disgust, and no rigid, defensive struggling.

And so, Jae-rim took his fill. He left bite marks around his nipples and fumbled with Jae-an’s unresponsive member while forcing his fingers into the opening. Sometimes, he even fed him semen, claiming it was “medicine,” and Jae-an swallowed the fishy substance without much resistance.

Despite choosing to do things Jae-an would hate for two days straight, Jae-rim began to grow worried as the older man’s consciousness remained clouded.

Because he hated the idea of showing Jae-an to the world after the incident with that pathetic bastard, Jae-rim summoned Park Seo-won to the house. Even with fever reducers and IV fluids, there was no significant improvement. Park Seo-won, who had a gauze pad stuck to his own split forehead, told Jae-rim that if he didn’t want to be hauling out a corpse, he should take him to a hospital. Jae-an had been the one to smash Seo-won’s head, but Jae-rim didn’t add any further explanation.

It was a week later when Jae-an finally regained enough consciousness to communicate. Jae-rim sat beside him as he sat on the bed, his face half its original size from the illness, staring blankly. Jae-an slowly turned his head to meet his gaze.

“A week has passed.”

Jae-an lowered his head. The corners of his eyes, still touched by a slight fever, were redder than usual. Since his tears hadn’t dried for an entire week, the skin around his eyes was raw.

The high fever that had neared 40°C had been broken, but a subtle heat stubbornly fluctuated. At night, his temperature would rise again, and his forehead was always damp with cold sweat. Whenever Jae-rim massaged him and pulled him into a cool embrace, it wouldn’t be long before Jae-an would distance himself and curl into a ball. It was a sign of recovery, but it was unpleasant.

The delirious searching for his mother had decreased, but the hacking coughs that shook his shoulders grew more frequent. Once a coughing fit started, it wouldn’t stop until his face and neck were flushed dark with blood.

Despite this, he didn’t stop his foolish behavior of trying to borrow cigarettes. Whenever Jae-rim went out to the terrace to smoke after breakfast, Jae-an would inevitably follow and humbly ask for a single cigarette. Although the awning blocked the harsh summer sun, Jae-an always took a step further out, smoking while fully exposed to the white glare. His earlobes, already flushed from the fever, ripened like red berries under the summer sunlight that pierced through the glass.

“Cough, hack, ghk…”

But soon, the coughing would begin. Ultimately, Jae-rim snatched the long cigarette from Jae-an’s thin fingers. He ground out his own shorter one in the ashtray and put Jae-an’s cigarette in his own mouth; Jae-an’s eyes followed the cigarette blankly.

“I wasn’t done… Give it, cough.”

“Go inside and drink some tea.”

Noticing that Jae-rim’s voice had dropped an octave, Jae-an obediently walked back into the living room. Jae-rim finished the rest of the cigarette while monitoring Jae-an’s profile as he poured tea from the still-warm teapot.

To think he would get this sick the moment he was told he was loved, almost as if he’d been waiting for it. It looked like a roundabout way of telling Jae-rim to “fuck off,” but because the blue bruise on his forehead was so pitiful, Jae-rim couldn’t bring himself to press him further.

He brought over the first-aid kit and squeezed some ointment onto his finger. When he went to Jae-an and swept back his bangs, his rounded forehead was revealed. Jae-rim clicked his tongue at the sight of the wound, which had begun to turn from deep blue to black. How could he smash his own head so mercilessly? Then again, this was a man who had tried to end his own life; this much probably wasn’t difficult for him.

He evenly applied the bruise ointment around the dead skin. He hated the tightly shut lips and the face devoid of life, so he applied extra pressure with his fingertip. The reddened corners of Jae-an’s eyes twitched, and his light brown eyes slowly drifted upward.

Ignoring the gaze that asked why his mood had soured again, Jae-rim finished applying the ointment and turned on the TV. He put on an animation, and Jae-an sat leaning at an angle, eyes fixed on the screen. Jae-rim couldn’t see what was so interesting about a flying raccoon, but Jae-an didn’t look away. Jae-rim’s golden eyes settled on Jae-an’s pale face more often than the TV.

Then, Jae-an parted his lips.

“Jae-rim-ah.”

It was a small call, heavily laced with a wheezing breath. Still looking at the TV, he continued in a voice that sounded like a sigh.

“I feel suffocated.”

It was an uncharacteristic complaint. Since he hadn’t been able to go for his tutoring-walks for over a week, it was understandable. Jae-rim stood and felt the nape of Jae-an’s neck. He could still feel the heat, but it wasn’t a high fever to worry about.

“Can’t we go for a drive…?”

Because his face looked so pretty as he asked in a voice that sounded like he was committing a crime, Jae-rim missed the timing to say no. If it was just the stream area in a neighborhood full of elderly people, it would be fine. When Jae-rim nodded, a rare flush of color returned to the gaunt face. As Jae-an tried to stand to change his clothes, Jae-rim pressed down firmly on his shoulder.

“You have to say it.”

“Uh…?”

Jae-an’s eyes searched for the answer for a moment, and as he found it, the faint color in his face vanished.

“…I love you.”

Answering with a miserable expression, Jae-an rose slowly and walked toward the dressing room. He came out wearing a white T-shirt and black denim pants, but he had lost so much weight that even the clothes bought recently hung loosely on him. Even in ill-fitting clothes, his pretty features drew the eye. Jae-rim decided he needed to hide that face. Thanks to that “bug,” he had learned that any pests pestering Jae-an had to be blocked in advance.

Uncrossing his legs, Jae-rim stood and took out a black baseball cap, pulling it onto Jae-an’s head. He didn’t think his own head was small, but seeing how the hat easily slid down past Jae-an’s eyebrows, he tightened the strap at the back. Jae-an toyed with the hat, as the tightly adjusted brim seemed to press painfully against the bruise on his forehead.

“Let’s go.”

Following behind, Lee Jae-an let out a series of dry, hacking coughs.

Once in the car, Jae-rim set the air conditioning two degrees higher than usual. He even adjusted the vents so the air wouldn’t blow directly at Jae-an. As a calm song played, Jae-an stared out the window. Thinking the daily scenery might be boring, Jae-rim took a detour on the way to the stream.

After driving for about twenty minutes, they arrived at the Tancheon parking lot. Usually, Jae-an would have unbuckled his seatbelt the moment the car stopped, but he was quiet. Looking over, Jae-rim saw the face under the cap tilted as if pressed against the window. The wheezing breaths were quite loud. Seeing him in a deep sleep, Jae-rim considered letting him sleep for a bit, but the posture looked uncomfortable, so he eventually spoke.

“Hyung, we’re here.”

“…….”

“Are you sleeping? You’re the one who wanted to come.”

Even after calling him several times, Jae-an didn’t move. After some thought, Jae-rim decided to unbuckle Jae-an’s seatbelt. They had plenty of time, so letting him sleep a bit before walking wasn’t a bad idea. As Jae-rim leaned carefully toward the passenger seat to undo the belt, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He could feel a sweltering heat radiating from Jae-an. The moment he cautiously touched his shoulder, Jae-an’s head slumped forward.

“Hyung?”

He pulled off the hat. The face, soaked in cold sweat, was deathly pale. Even when he tapped his cheek, the tightly closed eyelids showed no sign of lifting. Fuck. A curse escaped his lips. The sedan quickly exited the narrow path and hit the main road.

***

Jae-an regained consciousness while receiving an IV in the emergency room. However, the doctor suggested it would be best to run all possible tests. After finishing X-rays, a CT scan, and lung function tests, the results that came back a short while later were somewhat shocking. In the images, various parts of Jae-an’s lungs had turned white.

While Jae-an had collapsed due to a sudden drop in blood pressure, the underlying cause was his poor condition resulting from pneumonia.

Because the test results were overall poor, hospitalization was recommended. Jae-an, who had suddenly become a hospital patient, looked somewhat dazed, but he soon grew quiet as if resigned.

Jae-rim told Manager Han Jong-seok to pack their belongings. Walking toward a private room in the inpatient ward, Jae-an brushed past Jae-rim even after the younger man had stopped.

“It’s here.”

His faltering steps moved toward the hospital room he had passed. His hollow eyes landed on the name beside the door.

「Lee Seong-yoon (27)」

Realizing a bit late whose name he was living under, Jae-an stood still for a moment before entering the room with a gloomy face. Holding the patient gown neatly folded on the bed, Jae-an checked to see if the door was closed and began to undress one by one. Jae-rim’s gaze lingered on the emaciated body, where his ribs were visible.

“…Don’t you have to go?”

The question—which didn’t specify a destination like the restaurant or the office—made his inner thoughts transparent.

Jae-rim took a step closer. Jae-an stepped back as if to avoid him, but tripped over the bed frame and sat down.

Jae-rim lifted his sneaker-shod foot and pressed it firmly against the crotch of the patient gown. He could see the body that had been relaxed in its defenselessness immediately go rigid. As something soft was ground under his shoe, the look of discomfort on the pale face grew deeper.

“Are you going to keep telling me to get lost in a roundabout way?”

Jae-rim’s temper was flared; once by the stubbornness of the man who hadn’t asked for help even when he was about to collapse, and again by the stinginess of the man who refused to give him even a moment of his presence.

Jae-an looked at the closed door once more, then raised his hand to carefully place it on the sneaker. He didn’t push or slap it away; he merely touched the shoe lightly. It was a cautious gesture, as if he were afraid of provoking Jae-rim’s temper.

“I… didn’t.”

When Jae-rim applied more pressure with his foot, the strength in Jae-an’s hand also increased. His brow furrowed slightly—he still had some temper left in him.

“…I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

And he was smart. Only after hearing the answer that crushed his own pride did Jae-rim lower his foot. Jae-an rubbed the patient pants where the shoe mark remained, biting his lip and trying his best to kill his emotions.

Kicking out the guardian’s chair, Jae-rim sat down and crossed his legs. Jae-an, sitting up on the bed, pulled the blanket up to his chest and asked,

“How long did they say I have to stay?”

“I don’t know. Your condition is worse than I thought.”

Just then, his pocket vibrated. It was a call from the team leader in charge of a new buyer they had recently agreed to deal with. Watching Jae-an slowly lie down, Jae-rim stood from his chair.

“I’ll be back after I take this call, so stay put.”

Seeing the face that nodded a beat late, Jae-rim left the room. It was a quiet ward, but he found a spot where not a single soul was present to take the call.

The call was from the factory in Gangwon-do. They said a buyer had come by, wanting to distribute the new drug manufactured there. After explaining that he couldn’t go right now, Jae-rim instructed that he would make the major decisions and the details should be discussed with Park Seo-won.

He smoked a cigarette while checking Jae-an’s GPS. Jae-an would have to quit smoking for the time being. Jae-rim hadn’t particularly stopped him because his cautious expression when borrowing a cigarette was cute, but he hadn’t known his lungs would be in such a shambles. Fearing he might trigger Jae-an’s urge to smoke, Jae-rim stopped by the car to wash off the scent with perfume before heading back up to the ward.

Looking at Jae-an’s GPS, which was still fixed to the hospital room like a permanent fixture, Jae-rim stepped out of the elevator, and his eyes instantly grew cold. He could hear a commotion around Jae-an’s room.

His stride toward the room grew wider.

Medical staff were gathered around the bed, and Jae-an, his pupils dull, was flailing as he clutched his chest in agony. He wanted to cough, but he didn’t have enough breath to exhale, and his blood-flushed face was closer to blue than red.

An oxygen mask was placed over Jae-an’s face. The moment a nurse with a syringe grabbed Jae-an’s arm, he struggled with a strength that was incomparable to before.

“Heo, hu…”

“Patient, calm down! What are you doing? Hold him!”

The nurses grabbed his flailing limbs. While a new needle was being inserted, Jae-an groaned and writhed as if he were being stabbed with a knife. After receiving a sedative and an IV in succession, Jae-an’s eyes, forced half-shut by the drugs, finally closed.

Seo Jae-rim stood at a skewed angle, looking down as the medical staff straightened up the room. Once everyone had left and silence fell, the remaining doctor explained Jae-an’s symptoms.

“It’s closer to hyperventilation caused by a panic attack than pneumonia symptoms. However, because his lung function is low, it led to breathing difficulties. We’ll focus on the pneumonia treatment first, but once there’s improvement, it would be best for him to receive psychiatric treatment as well.”

While listening to the doctor’s explanation, Jae-rim opened and closed the lid of his lighter. Fuck. As the murmured curse echoed inside the quiet room, he heard the doctor’s breathing falter. The sound of the awkwardly standing doctor’s breathing was irritating.

“If you’re finished with the explanation, leave.”

The doctor, hearing a response that was more than just rude—it was murderous—clicked his tongue as if it were absurd and left. With a ting sound, the lighter lid opened again, and the lighter spun in Jae-rim’s hand.

His expression as he looked at the small face wearing the oxygen mask was as cold as if he had just finished slaughtering someone.

To think that the next thing Lee Jae-an, who had been enduring so obediently, would throw away after his pride was his sanity. Jae-rim felt a throb at the back of his head from Jae-an’s expensive indifference—the silent vow that he would never give his heart as long as he remained whole.