14. when he acts like a baby

My Boyfriend (나의 남자 친구)

The door opens, revealing my topless boyfriend only in his silky black pajamas. A knee-jerk reaction comes with a gasp when I turn away. DontlookDontlookDontlook. I sneak a glance anyway, despite my turned head, unable to resist.

What? It's not everyday I see what's underneath his clothes. Do you see the muscles on his arms? What about the faint lines running like sin on his stomach? It's calling for me to touch them...

Snap out of it! You're a civilized citizen, Park Chaeyoung. Your parents didn't teach you to be like this! You're a good girl... you're a good girl... you're a good girl...

"Uhm, wear a shirt... or something..."

Good. That's what good girls do. Keep the temptation away from plain sight and there would be no sinning to do. Right.

Junhoe grunts a response, hand leaving the doorknob as he turns around, walking deeper in their house without waiting for me. Snapping out of it, I close the door behind me and lean down to untie my sneakers. My sight lingers around the open-space area, noticing the comfortable stillness taking place.

"No one home?"

Junhoe shakes his head, not even turning to look at me, and proceeds to his room. After slipping into guest slippers, I walk towards the spacious hallway leading to his room, right behind the couch in front of the TV. Junhoe's room is opposite of his parents', so I can't resist but cast a glance, half-expecting one of his parents to come out. Biting my lower lip, I find that thought absurd, given that his parents are both at work.

I arrive just in time to see Junhoe grabbing a black shirt bundled at the foot of his bed. He wears it over his head with one swift movement, unrolling the creased shirt down to cover his lower body. I remember he wore that three days ago. Is it the same thing?

When we started dating, he always kept his room clean if I came over, so much that I actually thought it was a room showcase. Well, put two years in our relationship and you get this: explosion of used clothes everywhere. Does he know that the floor isn't a laundry basket?

His room's two times bigger than mine, has a black carpet in exchange of the wooden floor in the living area. The room's painted in navy blue and it gives the room a darker look even if it's midday. His king-sized bed is ducked with black and white checkered sheets, now crinkling as he dives himself underneath it. The bed slants in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, shut close with charcoal curtains.

The family decided to build every room its own adjacent bathroom, explains why Junhoe has his own. A little hallway opposite of the window leads to it. His closet is built at the wall beside his door. Whenever open it, I swear, I can only see fabrics of black in different designs. If he's a cartoon character, that'd be his uniform.

Two shoe racks as tall as him stand at the wall opposite of his bed, a study table with stacked books beside those said racks. The interior's nice to look at, but his used clothes everywhere destroys the image. Too tempted not to leave them lying around, I lean down and pick them up, bundling the collected clothes on my arms. I dump them at the laundry basket inside the bathroom.

"Turn off the light," a muffled response comes from the sheets just as I'm stepping back into his room.

I switch the light off located beside the door. When I do, the room gets dark, except for the natural afternoon glow from the living room. Frowning, I say, "I can't see anything."

Junhoe grumbles something I can't hear.

"What?"

"I'm sleepy..."

Growing concerned, I place my shoulder bag at the study table and sit on the bed. "Have you eaten already?"

"Already did..."

"Did you take some medicine?"

"Tylenol. Mom made me take it before they went out."

The thick sheets unfurl as I drag it down, enough to see a glimpse of Junhoe's face. In the dark, I can make out his closed eyes and parted mouth. Moving closer, I can hear his slow, ragged breaths. I place the back of my palm against his forehead. A gasp spills out from me when I do.

"You're burning up!"

His response isn't too good as his forehead crinkles and shifts to his left, forcing me to move away.

Biting my lips, I mutter, "This isn't good..."

I rise from the bed, eliciting a panicked but groggy, "Where are you going?" from him.

"I'm just going to grab a warm towel."

Minutes later, a neatly folded towel sits on his forehead, the sheets below his chin. He's lying in a straight position and has been since I settled beside him.

"Do you need anything?"

Junhoe shakes his head and fumbles an arm around the bed, until he finds my hand and grips it, filling the gaps of my fingers with his. It feels warm, with his fever and all, but I welcome it, intent to make him comfortable as possible.

"Chaeyoung..." he calls. If I'm not close, I would've mistaken it as background noise.

"What is it? Do you need anything? Water? Hungry?"

"If I die now, don't forget me... Keep me forever in your memory... Will you promise that?"

The after-effects of tylenol must be messing with his head. Then again, even without the medicine, he's always like this when he gets sick; melodramatic, like he's on the verge of death or something. It's a drunken Junhoe without the alcohol. Or, in other words, a baby Junhoe who needs to be babied.

Keeping the giggles to myself, I lean in and whisper in his ear, "I will. You'll be my favorite boyfriend."

He presses my hand, although it still feels weak given his current condition. "That's not funny..."

My free hand reaches out to touch the towel on his forehead. It's already lukewarm. I retrieve my hand away from his grip. "I'm going to change the towel. Wait here a bit."

When I attempt to rise from his bed, he grips my arm, his weakness obvious in the way he holds me loose.

"Chaeyoung..." Junhoe groans, now a lower rasp of his natural husky voice. "Don't leave me..."

With a gentle smile, I pry his hand away. "I'm not. I'm just going to change your towel."

"Come back..."

Picking up the towel from his forehead, I reply, "I will, I promise."

With the towel at hand, I flick the lampshade open to maneuver myself from the dark room. I would've protested to turn the lights inside Junhoe's room since it gets dark if the curtains are closed. But I also understand he's uncomfortable.

Entering the bathroom, I wring the towel free from water at the sink. The place is well-lighted by the window above the toilet, the shutter curtain open enough for me to see everything.

I grab the basin on a stair leading to his bathtub and place it under the faucet. Turning the knob of hot water open, multitude of bubble-like water falls on the basin, creating a soft whishing sound. I submerge the damp towel on the little pool when it fills up, not forgetting to turn off the faucet after.

Raising my eyes to my reflection in the mirror, I take note of my state. My brown hair's in a messy bun, baby hair sticking out at the nape. My pale face only has color on my lips, tinted with my go-to lip tint, and a natural blush from exhaustion. With a sigh, I remove the bun and fix my hair to a decent ponytail. Since my boyfriend's sick, I'm sure he won't notice me not on my best.

After making sure the towel isn't dripping wet, I come back to my boyfriend's sleeping figure by the bed, now completely buried in the sheets.

"Junhoe."

At the sound of my voice, his head peeks out from the checkered sheets, neck stretched out to see me. With his bedroom hair sticking out plus his drowsy eyes, he looks really cute. "Chaeyoung?"

I sit at the empty space beside him, folding a leg under me, and place the towel back on his forehead. He flinches when I do that. "Yep, still me."

Junhoe's groaning about something under his breath, something that I don't catch.

"Hm? What is it you're saying?"

He reaches out for my waist, arm snaking around to keep me captive. Junhoe does a little pull enough to make me fall on top of him.

"Junhoe!" I yelp, which is received negatively by my boyfriend. Whenever he's sick like this, his ears get sensitive so I mutter a silent apology.

"Just join me at the bed, please?"

How can I say no to that? While he removes the towel on his forehead, I raise the heavy covers and slide down beside him, his grip on my waist never leaving. He snuggles close by burying his head on my shoulder closest to the bed. His nose pokes the crook of my neck, his uneven breath hitting my skin. When his skin's high temperature comes in contact with mine, my breath can't help but hitch.

"Don't leave me."

I resist the urge to flinch. When he spoke, his warm breath feels like a kiss and a tickle at the same time. It doesn't help that his speaking voice goes a decibel lower, like it turns into a y bedroom voice that's so pleasing to listen to all night long.

Okay, to be clear, I mean that he sounds like one of those midnight DJs who lulls listeners to sleep with their voice. Yeah. Right.

Deciding to humor him, I say, "How can I leave when you're holding me like this?"

"I'm serious, Chaeyoung. If you do... I'll be left in pieces."

I resist the urge to laugh. Junhoe rarely talks like this because he hates to look like a clingy guy. If he does, it's either I'm upset with him or that I'm too annoyed with his jokes. It feels kind of refreshing, really, like I'm seeing him drunk, stripping him off of his inhibitions to show his inner self.

"If I do leave you, it'd have to be a really good reason."

His grip around me tightens. "Don't even think about it..."

"I will not, okay? Stop worrying about it too much."

"I'd really hate it if you leave me... I love you so much it hurts."

Digging my teeth on my lower lip, I fight off the urge to laugh. I'm this close. Junhoe's out of character when he's sick!

With amusement dancing on my eyes, I say, "Junhoe... I think you need to rest."

"No," he whines with a shake of his head, the movement creating slight friction against the tip of my ear. "I don't wanna. If I close my eyes, I'm afraid you'll disappear forever."

That's the last straw. Stifled laughter erupts from me. It's hard not to laugh, especially if I want to take care of his well-being by not being loud. So I calm myself down. "Oh Junhoe... What am I going to do with you?"

"Marry me."

That puts a brake to my thoughts.

"What?"

Shifting's felt on the bed as he angles his head away. Face to face now, the lampshade creates a romantic orange glow, his glazed eyes boring into mine. Gravity doing its work, his bangs fall sidewards on his face.

"Marry me," Junhoe repeats, steadily now.

"Oh Junhoe..." I brush his bangs back, some strands damp because of the towel earlier. The little spikes hitting the gaps of my fingers tickles me a bit. "I want that too... but someday. We're too young for that."

"You're going to be my wife, and then we'd have those kids we talked about. I think they're going to be wonderful, don't you think?"

Thinking that he isn't taking it to heart, I reply with a chuckle, "Okay."

"I'm serious, Chae. You're gonna be my home. In legal papers and stuff."

"Well then... I can't wait for that to happen soon."

I know I seem like I'm riding along with his silly remarks, but I do like the thought of that, us being together, binded by a ring, a warm house to live in... It's a lovely thought.

He kisses my forehead, the touch of his lips light as a feather. "I love you."

And then Junhoe says something like this. He's real cute when he's sick.

I pepper his warm face with kisses. "Love you too."

Junhoe's chest reverberates with laughter, turning away from me to avoid the kisses. "Stop."

"You don't like this?" I say in between kisses.

"I'm sick. I'm contagious. You can't get sick."

"No, I will not."

My boyfriend shifts on the bed again, now propping his hands on the space beside my chest. A pleasant chill runs hot on my arms. It renders me frozen, too stunned to move an inch.

"I'm serious."

Under his mussed-up hair and bedroom eyes, Junhoe's drowsy gaze changes into something different, something intense, just constrained. I feel hypnotized with the way his eyes command me in place, like I never have the chance to look away.

"Junhoe..."

I'm halfway closing my eyes (I thought he was leaning in), when I feel his weight on top of me, his arms like shackles on my body. He then rolls so that I'm the one on top of him. Now we're a tangled mess with the sheets. Where does he get his energy from? Is this guy sick in the first place?

"I'll just keep you like this so you can't kiss me anymore."

"I love your body, Junhoe," I say with a giggle. "You're like a living heater!"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

I hum a response. A settled silence comes down upon us, invited, never barging because it has to be there. Leaning my head on top of his hard torso, I listen to the faint but calming rhythm his heart makes.

"Marry me?" he asks.

"Definitely, I will. Someday."

~🌸tbc.

 

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_manlydeer
#1
oh no please dont abandon this fic authornim
Mollaseo #2
Chapter 22: Authornim, can you please update this story. Hope u have great days!!! Love this story. ❤
somber
#3
Chapter 22: KILIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I CAN'T
somber
#4
Chapter 1: aside from being totally in love with your hanbin/leehi stories (i ship them so hard, too), i am totally, absolutely smitten with this story!!! it's been ages since i last felt "kilig" from a story. i went from "gaguoawhfaowweof" to "angcuteuwujuskogagu" lots of times!!! i hope you write more stories (and not just oneshots, but longer stories hihi) about yg ships (ehem junrose, hanhi ehem) because you write really well.

thanks for the good read!!!
jongin13
#5
Chapter 9: Posessive junhoe is the best
minyulkaistalsurene #6
Chapter 6: No cringe at all. This story is so satisfying. Though Junrose is my second otp after Jenbin, I think the level is becoming the same now lol.

I love this so much so I hope you can continue? ?❤️