“Want me to shine your phone light for you?”
“It’s fine. I’m lying down, so close your eyes.”
“…”
Se-hyeon didn’t listen, blinking eyes accustomed to the dark. Cheong-o was in the home that had always been his alone. On the floor, but Cheong-o was lying beside him. Hugging the blanket and breathing in deep, Se-hyeon tossed.
His eyelids had definitely been heavy, but now that he’d lain down, sleep had fled entirely. Rolling his eyes a moment, Se-hyeon quietly rose and checked below.
It was so quiet he wondered if he was asleep, so he peeked to check—and met eyes glittering in the dark. Startled, Se-hyeon flopped onto his back staring at the ceiling.
A small laugh came from below. Se-hyeon rubbed his thumping chest.
“You really don’t listen when it’s time to sleep.”
“…”
“You looked ready to fall asleep, but once the light’s out you won’t sleep and just fidget.” The lips hidden in the blanket pouted. Like a disobedient child, Se-hyeon didn’t close his eyes, only controlling his breathing.
“My guide.”
“I know you’re not sleeping, so answer.”
“Do you like bread?”
“I don’t dislike it.”
“But you don’t like it?”
“It’s just okay.”
Bread, out of nowhere? It was strange, but he didn’t bother asking back. The faint sound of the air-conditioner reached them. Se-hyeon wrapped himself tighter in the blanket.
“Um.”
“Yeah.”
“…Shall I give you guiding?”
“All of a sudden?”
“It’s been bothering me that I couldn’t today.”
“Not really. It’s fine.”
“…Okay.”
Lying on the floor, Cheong-o scratched his chin as he answered. The words slipped out carelessly, and the face that had always lacked confidence about guiding came to mind. The answer had been a beat slow just now, too. Cheong-o opened his mouth to soothe the child.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“…”
“I’ll take it.”
No sooner had he tossed, bracing for the guiding to come, than rough guiding flowed in. Hard to get used to.
Cheong-o squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, glancing at the bed. He wondered what expression Se-hyeon was making right now.
“I-I’ll practice.”
The one receiving the guiding said nothing, but Se-hyeon looked pricked all on his own. The subtly shifting guiding seemed to speak for his mood. The unrefined guiding bounced and popped.
“Practice on who?”
“Just… any esper.”
“Any esper?”
The brow that had been calm all along furrowed. Cheong-o spoke, eyes narrowed.
“You’re too light, my guide. One day you’ll be flying all over the place.”
“What…”
“What will you do with me around? Do it on me.”
“But guiding is uncomfortable for you.”
“Don’t do it on other people. Do it on me.”
“…Okay.”
Sensing his suddenly soured mood, Se-hyeon eased the guiding back a little. He didn’t know why his mood had suddenly worsened. Adjusting the guiding without understanding, a cough burst out.
Caught in the rain that afternoon and with the air-conditioning running all evening at home, his body was starting to react. After coughing several small coughs, Se-hyeon got up and moved through the dark with practiced ease. At the abruptly stopped guiding, Cheong-o sat up.
Creeping to the drawer, Se-hyeon held his breath and took out medicine, swallowing it with room-temperature water in big gulps. This wasn’t the first or second time; taking medicine out of the blue was no surprise.
Turning to go back to bed, Se-hyeon was startled and jumped at the figure looming suddenly in the pitch-dark room.
“Wh-why are you sitting up?”
“Wondering what you’re doing. Why the medicine?”
“How did you know it was medicine?”
“What’s hurting?”
“It’s nothing. I take it in advance in case I hurt when I wake up.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Just… sometimes.”
His heart pounded loudly enough to hear across the distance. Cheong-o finally offered a short apology.
“Sorry. I didn’t think it would startle you that much.”
“It’s fine. I’ll do the guiding again.”
“You’re not well—what guiding? Lie down.”
“The medicine will make it fine.”
“If you guide now and feel sick tomorrow, who are you going to blame? Lie down.”
“I’m fine…”
He grumbled plenty even as he lay down. Only after watching Se-hyeon pull the blanket up did Cheong-o lie back down, feeling in fine detail the labored breathing gradually calming, and closed his eyes.
But then. Definitely, but then.
“You’re really not listening today.”
He’d acted ready to fall asleep just now, but he wouldn’t listen or try to sleep—Cheong-o marveled at the stubbornness.
He’d tried it secretly, and instead of creeping in, the guiding stabbed straight in—pop. At that, Cheong-o raised his voice, and the spiky guiding vanished as if it had never been.
Only after being scolded by Cheong-o did the bed above go quiet. He must have been fighting sleep, because soon even breathing came. Cheong-o courted sleep with the steady breathing as background music.
After manifesting as an esper, the discomforts were more than ten fingers could count. He just didn’t show them to others—an environment perfect for making a person sensitive.
A faintly irritating sound had been reaching him for a while, and at last sleep fled completely. Cheong-o checked the time on his phone, brightness turned all the way down, and sat up.
Waking at dawn was routine since he never slept deeply, so confirming it was 4 a.m. didn’t make him tired.
Cheong-o turned his head, following the sound that had been bothering him. Se-hyeon, who had taken medicine before bed against waking up in pain, was moaning, rolled up in the blanket.
In the darkness-accustomed view, he caught Se-hyeon moaning with a scrunched face. Despite it being summer, Se-hyeon was covered in a thick blanket. Cheong-o first turned off the air-conditioning and brushed back the bangs damp with cold sweat.
The forehead under his palm was a furnace.
He’d definitely seen him take medicine before bed, but the forehead was so hot he couldn’t tell whether it had worked.
There was no way the fever would go down by morning when it was this high now.
Cheong-o brought a towel soaked in water and silently wiped the cold sweat away. Wiping just the face wouldn’t bring the fever down, so Cheong-o sat on the bed and pulled the blanket all the way down. His hands were deft as he took off the sleeping Se-hyeon’s pajama shirt.
The moment the bare skin he’d only imagined appeared, Cheong-o held back a laugh. This was a trained body? Gently wiping the soft flesh with the towel, Se-hyeon tossed.
He wanted to strip him completely and wipe him down, but not knowing what Se-hyeon would make of him, he wiped only what he could reach.
Thinking the urgent fire was out, Cheong-o began properly searching the house. A kid who took medicine in advance for when he might get sick would surely have other things in the house. Relying on memory, he opened the drawer Se-hyeon had taken the medicine from, and all sorts of medicines greeted him.
Never having been sick since manifesting, he wondered briefly what medicine to give. Cold medicine, maybe. Rummaging through the drawer, Cheong-o stood with water and a wet towel in hand, plus cold medicine and a cooling fever patch.
How often must he get sick to keep these things at home? To someone who couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cold, the thoroughly prepared Se-hyeon was a marvel.
While Cheong-o searched for medicine, Se-hyeon seemed to have changed position and was curled up. In that short time, cold sweat had beaded again on the barely wiped skin. The hand wiping his face and body, seasoned by one round, was practiced.
Laying the used towel on his own leg and sticking a cooling fever patch on the round forehead, Se-hyeon flinched. Cheong-o wiped his body with the towel again, then shook Se-hyeon’s shoulder. He had to get medicine into him now for him to come to his senses by morning at all.
“Mm…”
“Just take the medicine and sleep.”
“…”
“My guide.”
“…Mm-mmh…”
The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Cheong-o pressed the soft cheek with his finger, poke poke.
“What’s with the ‘mm-mmh.’”
“Cold…”
“Then get up and take your medicine.”
“…”
Grasping the cheek with his hand, the warm flesh bulged out and vanished. It was fun, so he kneaded it several times. Slipping a hand behind his neck, he helped the body sit up. Unable to even open his eyes, Se-hyeon leaned on Cheong-o and whimpered fretfully.
Water first or medicine first… Torn between the water and the medicine, Cheong-o pushed the pill into the slightly parted lips. Half-asleep, the pill entered his mouth and Se-hyeon’s face scrunched.
Covering the mouth with his hand as it tried to spit the pill out unconsciously, his head shook. Then, tilting the cup so it would be easy to drink, Se-hyeon succeeded in swallowing the water. Doing all this and still not waking, only tossing—Se-hyeon was more worrying than interesting.
Running water down his throat several times so the pill wouldn’t catch, Cheong-o pulled the feverish body into his arms. At first Se-hyeon flinched at the discomfort, then soon went quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d volunteered to nurse someone. Cheong-o patted the moaning Se-hyeon in his arms.
Deep into the night, whenever the child in his arms tossed, Cheong-o soothed him, and whenever the fever rose, he wiped him down. Then suddenly he thought of Se-hyeon, who until now had suffered alone without telling anyone—and a shadow crossed his face.
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