Human Contact

They’d been given a hotel room for the night, those of them who weren’t going home.

Choi Chihoon was in the room next to Jaekyu’s. After they checked in, Jaekyu had managed the suggestion that they have dinner together. Chihoon had hesitated – or maybe he’d just been surprised – but he’d agreed. For the moment, though, Jaekyu was alone. Unwatched, for the first time in a year. He could do anything he wanted, but he didn’t have anything he wanted to do.

He put the TV on, and lay back on the bed and let the noise wash over him. He thought about Chihoon, in the room next to his. He didn’t know what to make of Chihoon any more. He’d assumed, the whole year, that it was arrogance that made Chihoon like he was. That meant someone like Jaekyu didn’t even register to him.

But that wasn’t what Chihoon was like. Chihoon was someone who hadn’t betrayed Jaekyu to the others even when he deserved it, who protected him for no good reason, even when it meant offering his own life.

Had Chihoon suspected that Kim Yohan wouldn’t actually kill him? Had he thought it wouldn’t make a difference? He couldn’t just have accepted his own death. Or maybe he had. Maybe Chihoon didn’t really resist anything, and that was why nothing really phased him.

Jaekyu was phased by everything. The oppressive nature of the school. His own complicity in the situation they’d been placed in.

He wasn’t meant to be meeting him yet, but Jaekyu went next door anyway.

Chihoon didn’t open the door straight away. Then he was there, leaning on his crutches, and he said, ‘You’re early.’

‘Sorry,’ Jaekyu said. Chihoon shrugged, and he let him in. Jaekyu went to sit on the edge of Chihoon’s bed, feeling awkward. ‘I can’t stop thinking,’ he said.

‘Okay.’ Chihoon took a seat at the desk; Jaekyu wondered if he’d been reading. He didn’t have his TV going, but Jaekyu could see his earbuds discarded on the desk.

Jaekyu had thought Chihoon was arrogant. Yet he sat there, and waited for Jaekyu to talk. As if Jaekyu had anything important he wanted to say.

Jaekyu just didn’t want to be alone with his own thoughts.

‘What were you doing?’ he asked.

‘Proofs,’ Chihoon said. ‘It can wait.’ As if there were any situation in which proofs would be a matter of urgency.

Well, it wasn’t as if Jaekyu’s presence was a matter of urgency.

‘You can keep going,’ Jaekyu said.

‘I don’t think you came here to watch me do proofs.’

No, he’d come because he’d wanted the comfort of being around another human. Even one as seemingly poor at it as Choi Chihoon.

‘What happened with you and Park Mooyul?’ Jaekyu asked. ‘When you broke your leg.’

If Chihoon was surprised by the question, he didn’t let it show. ‘We had a fight,’ he said. ‘I think I offended him.’

‘That’s why you fell down the bank?’ Or … Jaekyu couldn’t imagine that Mooyul had pushed him.

Chihoon only nodded, and didn’t clarify.

‘That must’ve been scary.’

‘I suppose,’ Chihoon. ‘That would make sense.’

‘You weren’t scared?’

Chihoon’s lip twitched. ‘I don’t think it’s the same thing.’

‘Oh.’ Jaekyu wondered if he was assuming too much. If the gulf between them was really so large. ‘What about with the doctor?’

‘Not then either.’

That made sense. It would be easier to offer your own life in place of someone else’s when you didn’t actually feel fear. It wasn’t so much a lack of self-preservation, so much as a lack of urgency. You could weigh things without prejudice.

It sounded nice.

‘Do you ever get excited about anything?’

‘In what way?’

‘Like … I don’t know. When you’re looking forward to something.’ He thought of the rare times he’d seen Chihoon smile. When they were in the teacher’s room, and found the letters there …

‘No,’ Chihoon said. ‘Do you?’

‘What?’

‘Do you get excited about anything?’

Jaekyu thought about it.

‘Not in a long time,’ he said. Or maybe that wasn’t true. Hadn’t it been exciting, when he delivered the letters? Hadn’t it been exciting, when they’d saved the doctor’s life, before they’d realised what they’d done? Hadn’t it been exciting getting caught? ‘Now I guess I’ve had too much excitement.’

‘There you go,’ Chihoon said.

Speaking to Chihoon, Jaekyu was beginning to wind down. He wasn’t as tense as he had been when he was alone. He wondered if Chihoon would be offended if he fell asleep here. If Chihoon could be offended.

Probably, Chihoon would let him sleep. Until it was time for dinner, or until he had to move him to go to bed himself.

For some reason, that thought made Jaekyu tense again.

‘Do you want to get dinner now?’ he asked. It was a little early, but the hotel restaurant should be open.

Chihoon didn’t answer straight away, following his train of thought further down whatever path it ran along. ‘Alright,’ he said, and turned in the chair. ‘Pass me my crutches.’

Jaekyu got up, and he grabbed the crutches for Chihoon.

‘Does it hurt much?’ Jaekyu asked, as Chihoon got to his feet.

‘A little. Less with the drugs.’ 

At the doorway, Chihoon got Jaekyu to take the keycard, and then to hold the door for him, and close it after.

‘Do you always do what you’re asked?’ Chihoon asked.

What?’ Jaekyu wouldn’t have thought of it like that. ‘It’s not like it’s anything unreasonable.’

‘What would be unreasonable, I wonder?’ Chihoon said. And Jaekyu didn’t have an answer for that.

---

The restaurant was almost empty, but for a couple across the room who talked quietly to each other. Chihoon didn’t talk. When the food came, he ate fastidiously, alternating bites of each item, as if following some internal pattern. Jaekyu didn’t feel much like eating himself, and ended up passing half his dishes to Chihoon.

‘You’re healing,’ he said, to excuse it. ‘You need the energy.’

Chihoon accepted that.

Watching him eat, Jaekyu asked, ‘Why didn’t you go home?’

‘There’s no reason.’

‘No reason you didn’t? Or no reason to go?’

‘No reason to go.’

‘Were you really not going to go home for the holidays? Even before you got the letter?’

‘Really,’ Chihoon affirmed. ‘It would have just been distracting.’

‘Letting in a serial killer’s pretty distracting.’

Chihoon glanced up at him. ‘At least it was interesting.’

It was the sort of comment that rubbed Park Mooyul up the wrong way. Jaekyu found that he felt envious.

‘What about you?’ Chihoon asked.

Jaekyu thought about his parents. They’d come, but they hadn’t wanted to have to hang around for the police investigation. They’d come, but Jaekyu hadn’t wanted to go home with them.

‘There’s no reason for me either,’ he said.

---

When they got back to the rooms after dinner, Chihoon asked, ‘Will you help me with the bath?

‘What?’ Jaekyu said, fumbling the keycard. ‘Oh. Your leg.’

Chihoon nodded.

It was a normal request, Jaekyu thought. A reasonable request. And there was no-one else to ask it of. So he said, ‘sure,’ even though he wasn’t sure at all.

Once they were inside, Jaekyu ran the bath. There was something oddly intimate about even that – checking the water temperature, while Chihoon moved in the room behind him.

‘You really are obliging,’ Chihoon said.

‘Sorry?’ Jaekyu turned his head, and then had to avert his eyes very quickly, because Chihoon was beginning to undress.

Normal, he thought. Normal, reasonable request. Certainly, Chihoon was unbothered.

He thought of the others, when they’d found Kim Jinsu’s record. Jo Youngjae’s sudden and definite judgement. Park Muyeol unreadable save for his disapproval of Youngjae. And Chihoon, almost clueless, unaware.

There was more than one way in which Jaekyu had related to Jinsu’s situation. In Jinsu’s case, it was a misunderstanding. In Jaekyu’s, it wouldn’t have been. It was only that no-one knew it of him.

Helping Chihoon with the bath was very, very uncomfortable.

At least, he thought, Chihoon wouldn’t judge him for it. Chihoon hadn’t judged him for what he’d done with the letters. He hadn’t understood, but even that …

‘Lee Jaekyu,’ Chihoon said.

Jaekyu looked up. Chihoon was watching him from the bath, where he had his leg propped awkwardly out of the tub.

‘You should have a bath too,’ he said.

Jaekyu’s eyes widened. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I will. Later.’

Chihoon kept on looking at him.

‘You know, Chihoon said, ‘it’s normal for humans after a stressful situation.’

‘What is?’

‘Sex.’

Now Jaekyu stared at him. He wanted to say, you’re kidding, but Chihoon didn’t kid. Jaekyu swallowed. ‘I think I’ve heard that.’

Chihoon sat up straighter, leaning his arm on the side of the tub. Jaekyu tried not to note the way the water clung to his torso, tried not to let his eyes linger.

‘Help me up,’ Chihoon said.

Jaekyu took his hand, helped him maneuver himself out the bath. Chihoon didn’t make any effort to avoid touching him, or to not get him wet.

Why had Chihoon said that? Why, why had he said that? He couldn’t actually mean …

Jaekyu’s heart sounded heavy in his ears. He handed Chihoon the towel, and tried not to see his body. He was bruised all over from his tumble, or from the fight.

Jaekyu supposed he had his own bruises.

‘Don’t take too long,’ Chihoon said, grabbing the crutches and leaving Jaekyu in the bathroom.

Jaekyu just stood there for a moment, the sound of his blood still heavy. It seemed horribly unfair for Chihoon to push him like this. But Chihoon didn’t kid. Maybe Jaekyu had misunderstood, and it had been a complete non-sequitur …

Eventually, he pulled himself together enough to undress and to bathe. The warmth of the water was a comfort – it had been so cold, at the school over break, the school too tight to heat the building for only seven students.

He folded his knees up against his body.

It hadn’t been the way he’d imagined it would be. He’d been happier as he was. You had to be like Chihoon, he thought, to get along at Susin; you had to be broken or the school would break you.

What did a word like friendship mean anyway? Jaekyu didn’t know any more. Someone like Chihoon surely didn’t know.

Or maybe he assumed it was normal for friends to have sex after ‘stressful situations’.

Like seeing people killed and knowing they were only there because you put them there.

Like seeing Kim Yohan’s face as he fell, and knowing that he’d been vindicated, in the end.

Jaekyu could have kept thinking about that. He could have thought about it till the water was stone cold. But if he’d wanted to recriminate himself, he would have stayed in his own room.

He got out the bath, and toweled himself dry. Caught his reflection in the mirror, not the same boy he’d been before.

He left the towel around his waist, and he went back out into the hotel room.

Chihoon had laid back on the bed, his earbuds in. He’d put on a robe, but that was all. When he saw Jaekyu standing there, he pulled the earbuds out, and he shifted over on the bed, making room.

‘You’re not really serious,’ Jaekyu said.

‘Why wouldn’t I be serious?’ Chihoon said. Jaekyu went and sat next to him on the bed, gingerly, folding his legs up. Chihoon’s eyes flicked down over him.

‘Don’t you want to?’ Chihoon asked.

Jaekyu tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling. Anywhere but at Chihoon. ‘It’s not that,’ he said.

Chihoon remained next to him, eyes dark and serious.

Jaekyu turned toward him,  still avoiding those eyes. ‘Have you done it before?’ he asked.

‘No. Have you?’

Jaekyu almost laughed. He shook his head instead. Then he reached out touched a hand to Chihoon’s face. Chihoon didn’t do anything so sappy as lean into his hand.

‘It’s my fault this all happened,’ Jaekyu said.

‘I don’t think that’s right.’

He ran his fingers over Chihoon’s lips, as if that might quieten him.

‘You could have died,’ Jaekyu said.

‘I didn’t. If we’re talking about might-have-beens, you could have died too. But you didn’t.’

He could have. But Chihoon had protected him, even though Jaekyu had done nothing to earn or deserve it. Certainly not from Chihoon.

Maybe Chihoon was actually a good person.

Jaekyu ran his hand down Chihoon’s shoulder, and under the fabric of the robe. It felt almost impossibly daring: before all this, he hadn’t even existed to Chihoon. But Chihoon had existed to Jaekyu the whole time. All year. The impossible genius, handsome and heartless.

Jaekyu kissed him quickly, before he lost his nerve. A dry, chaste kiss. Chihoon didn’t really seem the kissing type, but he let Jaekyu do it.

Chihoon undid his robe.

And Jaekyu let himself look. It was slightly incongruous, of course, that Chihoon was lying there with his leg in cast, but otherwise exposed, his cock still soft, bruises across his hip. A million details for Jaekyu to drink in.

He touched Chihoon’s arm. Then he unwrapped the towel from his own waist, and he moved to straddle Chihoon’s body, the inside of his thighs against Chihoon’s. Chihoon watched him, not making a move. Appraising him. And Jaekyu sat on his lap, their bodies flush. When had he ever been this close to another human being?

He ran his hand down between them, and was rewarded with the way Chihoon bit his lip, ever so slightly. ‘Is this what you wanted?’ Jaekyu asked, his hand on Chihoon’s cock, rubbing small motions against him.

Chihoon looked at him, half-lidded eyes, and he nodded.

It wasn’t fair. All the months Jaekyu hadn’t existed to him. And then all Chihoon had to do was make a suggestion that wasn’t even a suggestion, it was an observation. He didn’t even have to ask nicely – Jaekyu would just do it.

If Chihoon wanted them to have sex, they would have sex.

If Chihoon wanted them to kill a man, they would kill a man.

If Chihoon had told him to turn himself in, maybe he would have done that sooner. Accepted his judgement. Or would it be a trade? Jaekyu’s sins. Chihoon’s absolution. Just to get his attention.

Chihoon might not have been passionate, but he was responsive. His cock gave away more than his face did. There was an appeal in the contrast between those things – between the Chihoon who looked right through you, and the Chihoon with his lips slightly parted, thrusting into Jaekyu’s hand … 

It was a kind of power, as much as Chihoon’s words over Jaekyu were. As much power as Chihoon would give him.

But Jaekyu could have walked away.

Chihoon could have walked away too.

Afterwards, Chihoon let Jaekyu lie against him, and didn’t begrudge Jaekyu the contact.

‘Do you think we’ll get away with it?’ Jaekyu asked. He wasn’t talking about the sex.

‘I do,’ Chihoon said.

And with those words, Jaekyu could relax. Because if Chihoon believed it, Jaekyu could too. He could do nothing but.