Double Junk - 181

181

His face turned pale as he shoved Changdu away in a panic.

“Stay… stay back! Stay away!”

His trembling hand hit Changdu’s chest with a thud, but Changdu exhaled angrily through his nose and twisted Ajin’s wrist, attempting to forcibly take the watch.

“No… no, you can’t…”

Ajin kicked at Changdu’s thighs and knees while scratching his other hand against Changdu’s with clawing desperation.

Despite his frantic resistance, Changdu didn’t budge. Instead, the grip on Ajin’s wrist grew more forceful, as though it might crush the bone. The twisted skin stung as if being torn apart. Changdu, breathing heavily, shook Ajin violently.

“Stupid bastard. You should’ve just handed it over when I asked!”

“Ugh…”

Changdu raised his fist high, aiming a solidly clenched hand at Ajin’s upturned nose. Expecting the hit, Ajin squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Suddenly, the storage room door flung open.

“What the… who’s there?”

Startled, Changdu jerked his head toward the door. A large shadow loomed into the room.

Ajin, trembling as he curled into himself, didn’t even register the door opening. He couldn’t distinguish whether this was a storage room, the middle of a forest, or some blurred space between past and present. The disorientation made his head spin, nausea welling up in his throat.

Then a loud thud rang out, and Changdu’s head smacked hard against the wall. Someone had kicked the side of his head while he crouched over Ajin.

“Urk…”

The blow was so forceful that Changdu’s eyes rolled back. But the violence didn’t stop there. A long leg struck his lower jaw with a swift downward motion. His nose immediately started bleeding, and his lips split open. Just two blows, yet his face was already a bloody mess.

The assault continued relentlessly. Changdu, unconscious from the initial head injury, swayed limply like a piece of meat being battered.

“You… this…!”

The person beating Changdu muttered something under their breath. The words were drowned out by the dull, repeated impact of fists and kicks.

Ajin stared blankly at Changdu with unfocused eyes. Violence. Fists. Bl00d. Pain. These were all overwhelming to Ajin, dragging back memories he had buried deep, igniting fear and sorrow like wildfire.

“Ah… ahhh…”

Ajin hugged his knees tightly, covering his ears as he shook uncontrollably. He wanted to run. The violence focused on Changdu seemed as though it could turn toward him at any moment.

He needed Seokju. Only Seokju could protect him. Seokju said he’d come for him. When? How much longer would it take? Would he be late this time too? Would he leave Ajin to endure this alone again? If so, then what was he supposed to…

Just as tears began to spill from his eyes, a deep, heavy voice called out from above him.

“Ajin.”

Ajin froze, holding his breath. Before he could even lift his head, the owner of the voice bent down to meet his eyes.

Through tear-stained lips, Ajin whispered his name.

“…Hyung.”

It was Seokju.

“Are you okay?” Seokju asked gently, his voice full of concern. His face was etched with worry.

Ajin, staring at him in a daze, slowly nodded. Seokju let out a small sigh of relief, a faint smile playing on his lips. Even so, his eyes darted around, scanning Ajin’s body for any signs of injury. Noticing Ajin’s disheveled hair, he reached out to fix it, but stopped short—his hands were covered in bl00d.

Seokju quickly lowered his hand and wiped it on his suit jacket. Watching him, Ajin glanced briefly in Changdu’s direction. Seokju noticed immediately and shifted his shoulder to block Ajin’s view. He then stroked Ajin’s hair gently and smiled.

“Let’s go home.”

“…”

The cold touch of Seokju’s hand was all too familiar, the warmth he had been yearning for. Unconsciously, Ajin let his eyes flutter shut.

Seokju stroked Ajin’s damp neck and flushed cheeks with slow, calming movements. Then his gaze landed on Ajin’s wrist, red and swollen, with raw, bloody patches where the skin had been scraped by the watch’s band.

“…”

Seokju’s expression turned cold and hard. His dark eyes moved restlessly, searching for a weapon. He seemed to be seriously considering cutting off Changdu’s wrist with a whiskey bottle he spotted nearby.

As Seokju weighed his options, Ajin suddenly leaned his face against Seokju’s shoulder.

“It’s hot,” Ajin murmured.

“Let’s go home,” Seokju said, abandoning his thoughts of revenge. Ajin’s safety and comfort came first.

“Yeah… home…” Ajin nodded faintly. Home, where no one could hurt him. Home, where he felt secure and strong. Home, where Seokju was.

As he pictured the warmth of his own room, Ajin let out a soft, contented breath. Seokju, gently rubbing his back, asked, “Can you stand?”

Without much thought, Ajin shook his head. Even lifting a finger felt like too much effort. He leaned on Seokju entirely, unable to hold himself up. His eyelids drooped with exhaustion.

Seokju pushed Ajin slightly away and turned his back toward him.

“Get on.”

Ajin blinked and looked at the broad back in front of him. After a moment, he placed his hands on the ground, groaned, and stood up. Then, he draped himself over Seokju’s back like a sack.

Seokju adjusted Ajin’s slipping thighs, securing him properly. Without showing any sign of strain, he stood up effortlessly, carrying the limp adult man.

“Lower your head and close your eyes.”

At those words, Ajin nodded and buried his face into Seokju’s firm shoulder. The scent of Seokju wafted over him—a mixture of body wash and skincare products. It felt like a fragrance that both matched and didn’t match Seokju at the same time.

Then there was his unique cool body temperature—a refreshing coolness that gradually settled Ajin’s burning chest, calming it down to a lukewarm state.

As Seokju walked out of the storage room, he nudged aside Changdu’s legs, which were blocking the path, as if he were clearing away trash. Ajin obediently kept his face buried in Seokju’s shoulder like a compliant child.

Walking down the hallway, Seokju made his way to the elevator. With each step, Ajin’s body moved slightly up and down. The steady rhythm of his footsteps felt strangely familiar.

A faint smile appeared on Ajin’s lips. He tightened his arms around Seokju’s neck and rubbed his cheek against the back of his neck.

How strange.

The Seokju carrying him didn’t smell of cigarettes, nor was his body temperature particularly warm. Yet it felt as though he was being carried by the Seokju from his past life.

Ever since meeting Seokju, Ajin had let down his guard completely. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness. His memories came in fragments. When he briefly opened his eyes, he was inside a car, raindrops clinging to the windows. The next time he opened them, he was lying on a sofa in an unfamiliar living room. Unlike the traditional hanok-style main house, this place had a high ceiling and the subtle scent of a diffuser instead of the smell of wood.

As Ajin stared blankly at the geometric light fixture hanging from the distant ceiling, he heard the soft sound of footsteps typical of home slippers. Seokju approached, holding a glass of water with ice floating in it.

Ajin slowly sat up, regaining some clarity. His previously tingling hands and feet moved without issue.

Seokju, sitting beside him, handed him the glass of water. Ajin drank it all in one go, leaving only the ice clinking at the bottom. He picked up one piece of ice and popped it into his mouth like candy, letting out a long sigh through his nose. His head cleared even further.

“Can you wash up by yourself?”

As he carefully removed Ajin’s wristwatch, Seokju asked the question. Ajin nodded slightly, the ice in his mouth clinking as he moved.

Seokju guided him to the bathroom and provided him with homewear, including undergarments.

Ajin showered for a long time, standing under the cold water to wash away the effects of alcohol and medication. When he finally emerged, he saw Seokju waiting outside the bathroom. His hair was slightly damp, and he had changed into fresh clothes, indicating he had also taken a shower.

He was on the phone with someone.

“Yes, Secretary Hwang. Please handle it that way. Thank you. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. Yes.”

Noticing Ajin, Seokju quickly ended the call. He then led Ajin back to the living room. On the table were a glass of cold water filled with ice and a first aid kit. Ajin, with a curiously familiar gesture, sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the table.

Seokju sat beside him, opening the first aid kit to take out antiseptic, ointment, and bandages. He began treating the scrapes on Ajin’s wrist.

“Let’s go to the hospital tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Ajin nodded briefly. He didn’t think the injury was severe enough to require hospital treatment, but he felt that rejecting the suggestion would upset Seokju. However, when the antiseptic touched the raw wound, he flinched.

“Ah, it stings…”

Hearing that, Seokju widened his eyes momentarily before blowing gently over the wound. The cool breeze eased the stinging pain. Ajin stared at Seokju intently as he focused on the wound, his face full of concern and sympathy, which Ajin found oddly pleasing.

Seokju treated the minor injury with great care. While observing him, Ajin slowly took in the surroundings. The spacious room, the high ceiling, the view of the Han River and Seoul’s nightscape through the large windows. The sofa and table, more modern than the ones at the main house. The kitchen and dining area visible in the distance. The dark blue flooring and furniture.

“Where is this?”

“Our house.”

“Our house?”

“The house where you and I live.”

“Ah…”

So this was the place where he had moved in with Seokju after gaining independence. Now that he thought about it, it looked like the house he had seen in a dream. The same house where he and Seokju had fought intensely over whether to address him as “boss.”