The Three baby mining brothers - Chapter 9

Before long, the familiar mansion came into view. Yeoreum wanted to say it. He wanted to explain to his brother that he hadn’t intentionally hidden anything, that he had wanted to ask for permission before going out. He wanted to deny that everything his brother was thinking was true.

Yeoreum kept his mouth shut, staring out the window. The scenery passing by quickly was far quieter than the places he had spent time with Jaehun. In his mind, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jaehun’s expression—one he didn’t understand.

It was a face he had never seen in the more than a week they had spent together. It was frightening, but it also made him curious. He planned to apologize and ask why he had looked so frighteningly despondent.

The car stopped in front of the main gate before he realized it. At that moment, Yeoreum’s determination seemed to fade. He thought there would be plenty of time to talk with Yi-eon back at the house. They ate meals together, sometimes even slept together, and spent time in each other’s rooms.

Everything involved Yi-eon, so he thought there would be plenty of opportunities to say what he wanted. That was all he believed.

“You’re back.”

It was Secretary Yoon standing outside. He gave a slight bow and opened the door wide, stepping aside. Yi-eon frowned slightly, looking tired, and massaged his shoulders as he stepped inside.

“I need to shower as soon as I go up.”

Without even glancing at Yeoreum, Yi-eon gestured toward Secretary Yoon with his chin and entered the house again. Walking down the long hallway, he reached the stairs. Yeoreum had no choice but to watch Yi-eon’s back as he walked away without looking back.

He climbed the stairs without turning around. Yeoreum kept staring at him. After climbing for a while, Yi-eon suddenly stopped, turned back, and looked down from the railing.

“Secretary Yoon, take him.”

Yi-eon looked down, and Yeoreum looked up. Their gazes met for a fleeting moment before parting.

“Please follow me,” Secretary Yoon said. But Yeoreum’s eyes stayed fixed on the spot where Yi-eon had just been standing, even after he disappeared into the distance.

The calm day was suddenly disrupted, as if waves were surging. In that moment, Yeoreum felt a glimpse of the despair Jaehun had left behind.

When he followed Secretary Yoon, they arrived at the room where Yeoreum had spent his nights. In the early days of staying at the brothers’ house, it was always Secretary Yoon who came to fetch Yeoreum.

But at some point, Yi-eon started accompanying him. Yi-eon was the one who came by in the morning for meals and spent time with Yeoreum after work. Perhaps that’s why it felt strange to part ways with Secretary Yoon at the door now.

“Dinner will be brought to your room. Please rest well.”

“What…? Sorry?”

Secretary Yoon gave a small nod and closed the door. All that remained in Yeoreum’s view was the dark door.

It was the first time since coming to this house that Yeoreum was eating dinner alone in his room. The brothers had always insisted he come to the dining room for meals.

Yeoreum’s mind went blank. He couldn’t even think of turning around as he backed up until his legs hit the bed. As soon as he collapsed onto the bed, all strength left his body. Too many things had happened. He didn’t even have the energy to change clothes.

Spreading his arms wide, Yeoreum lay down on the bed. Gradually, his eyes closed. He didn’t want to think about what came next. He believed he could be fine.

Dusk fell without waiting for time to pass. A knock at the door woke him. Yeoreum was still in his thick outerwear. Before answering the person waiting outside, he hurried to change his clothes. It seemed he had fallen asleep again.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

His eyes were filled with fatigue, and his body felt heavy. When he opened the door, as expected, it was Secretary Yoon, holding a large tray. It appeared to be dinner. Yeoreum glanced past Secretary Yoon’s shoulder, half expecting Yi-eon to appear and call him to dinner. But reality was different.

Yeoreum looked around, but the long hallway was empty except for him and Secretary Yoon. It felt hollow.

“I’ll bring it in.”

It wasn’t difficult for Secretary Yoon to move past Yeoreum, who was blocking the door, and enter the room. He began placing the food on the table where Yeoreum often sat. All Yeoreum could do was stand there awkwardly, watching.

‘Why am I eating in my room today?’

The timing felt strange. Was it because he hadn’t followed the rules set by the brothers? It felt like a heavy punishment.

“C-can I go downstairs to eat?”

Secretary Yoon, Yi-eon, and Yi-hon had occasionally accommodated his requests in the short time he had been here. For Yeoreum, asking this was an act of great courage. Even though it wasn’t a big request, making any request at all filled him with fear.

“I’m sorry. It’s already been decided by Yi-eon. Please enjoy your meal.”

Just as he had closed Yeoreum’s door earlier, Secretary Yoon left without giving him a chance to hold him back. The smell of food filled the room, but to Yeoreum, it seemed unpleasant.

Clasping his hands together, Yeoreum stared at the closed door. No matter how long he looked, there was no sign it would open again. Unlike a few hours ago, he was alone in the room.

Even though he had been alone his whole life, Yeoreum had believed that loneliness was always a feeling that could be resolved. Whenever he felt empty, he smiled, and those smiles would bring new emotions.

The reason he had been okay was that he believed such a day would come.

Not knowing what it felt like to have what he’d never had, it was easy to accept being okay. But now, within the danger, the child had found people he could trust as family, and he had held them in his hands.

His stomach ached like it was being pierced, and though he didn’t feel hungry, he couldn’t leave the meal they had given him uneaten. Forcing himself to get up, he picked up the spoon and ate. After finishing, he placed the empty tray on the nightstand, just as he had done on the first day he arrived at the house.

Though his stomach was full, his insides still hurt, and even sitting still was hard. To rid the room of the lingering food smell, Yeoreum opened the window wide. The cold early winter air rushed in. The sparse leaves didn’t know the time and fell to the ground. Only bare branches remained.

The white table and chair were gradually cooled by the cold wind. Yeoreum sat on the chair, placed his arms on the table, and rested his head.

Even though he had only eaten one meal alone, his heart raced with gloomy thoughts. He couldn’t fathom how much he had come to rely on them.

He turned his head to one side and closed his eyes. His stomach felt too unsettled to lie down. He didn’t want to do anything. He had grown too used to this comfortable life.

Why did I do that? That was the only thought running through his mind.

The cold air lingered. Yeoreum’s eyes suddenly opened wide from sleep. Was it because his body was trembling and felt heavy? Even lifting his head felt like a burdensome.

Propping himself up on the desk, he realized the room was exactly as it had been since dinner the previous evening. He was still dressed in the thin pajamas he had hurriedly changed into, and the window he had opened for ventilation remained wide open. The tray left on the bedside table was untouched, meaning no one had entered the room.

This was a room Yi-eon often visited. It would have been a lie to say he hadn’t hoped to find traces of him before closing his eyes. The cold air that nudged his heavy body to move had been no different in its intent.

Yeoreum slowly made his way to the bathroom. He needed to quickly wash up and head down for breakfast. Everything would be fine. He clung to that belief as he splashed water on himself.

Living with Yi-eon had taught Yeoreum that sharing a family’s routines, such as washing up together, was merely supplemental. Not having that opportunity still left him feeling drained, but he forced his hands to move faster.

After putting on a light long-sleeved shirt and long pants, he opened the firmly shut door.

“You’re up?”

Pushing open the tightly closed dining room door, Yeoreum found no one at the usually bustling dining table. Instead, a housekeeper, whom he rarely saw, was carrying dishes.

The work, which would usually take several trips, seemed to have been finished in no time. There was only food prepared for Yeoreum.

“Um… my brothers?”

“Oh, the eldest boss is away on a business trip, and the younger boss left early. It looks like you’ll be eating alone today. Please, have a seat.”

She pulled out the chair from the center of the table, where Yi-eon usually sat, and left the tray she was carrying before disappearing inside. With her gone, Yeoreum sat down alone.

Naturally, Jaeheon wasn’t there either. Since the events of the previous day, Yeoreum hadn’t seen him or heard anything about him.

Perhaps it was karma for dozing off at the table due to an upset stomach, but even the smell of food felt nauseating. Though his body shivered, he clung tightly to his utensils. He didn’t want to be consumed by the guilt that came from leaving food uneaten.

He placed a piece of short rib stew into his mouth. Maybe because he had gone to bed early, the morning felt earlier than usual. Even so, Yi-eon wasn’t there. Perhaps he had spent too long in the bathroom. He had thought he might see him in the morning, as they usually gathered together at this time.

Yet, all that remained for him were his own dishes and food. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

At the orphanage or at the short time he had attended school, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t made mistakes or done wrong. Whenever that happened, he would get scolded by the teachers and the director. Afterward, he would apologize and promise not to repeat his actions, and the matter would be closed, leaving no lingering feelings.

But now, he wanted to talk things out with Yi-eon. It was, of course, a chance to apologize, but more than anything, he simply wanted to see him.

However, Yi-eon hadn’t given him even that opportunity. Living without seeing him, as though he were deliberately avoiding him, felt like enduring a cruel punishment.

Yeoreum emptied the bowl of rice piled high in front of him. He placed the dishes down quietly and spent a while debating how to clean up before the housekeeper reappeared, allowing him to retreat to his room.

Today, his tutor Minhyuk probably wouldn’t show up either. Perhaps Yi-eon had told him not to bother coming. Perhaps he had said it was pointless to waste time teaching someone incapable.

Yeoreum went back into his room and immediately headed for the bathroom, where he clung to the toilet and threw up everything in his stomach. As the blockage in his throat cleared, he gasped for air. His hands began to tremble, making it difficult to comfort himself.

He didn’t want to be abandoned. He wanted to keep hearing the word “family.” He wanted to thank them for saving him and plead for them to stay with him. But he was terrified of hearing the words, “I regret saving you.” That fear weighed heavily on him.

Yeoreum slowly left the bathroom and slumped into the white chair. The strong wind rustling the tree in front of him mirrored the turmoil in his mind.

Being abandoned was an event that happened more often than breathing at the orphanage. From infants to high school students, children frequently left for families only to return shortly after.

When he was fifteen, Soo-hyuk, who had shared his room, was adopted by a well-off, childless couple. But he returned within a month. Despite over half a year of bonding, it ended in an instant, all because his table manners weren’t up to their standards.

Soo-hyuk returned to the orphanage, to Yeoreum’s room, crying and staring blankly out the window in a cycle. If it had never happened, perhaps Soo-hyuk wouldn’t have been so broken.

How am I any different from Soo-hyuk?

As he pondered this, Yeoreum began solving a mock test that Minhyuk had left behind two weeks ago. Time flew by. Dwelling on thoughts while studying was a surprisingly effective combination. The clear, factual problems of math demanded his focus in a way that scattered thoughts could not.

Alternating between solving problems and staring at the swaying tree outside, time did not stop. It felt like only moments ago he had told the housekeeper he would skip lunch, but it was already close to 5 p.m. With winter approaching, the sky darkened early.

How long had he been studying? Rising from his desk, Yeoreum layed down on his bed. He planned to rest for a while before greeting Yi-eon when he came home. If he waited by the door, Yi-eon wouldn’t be able to avoid him any longer. Pulling the blanket up to his chest, Yeoreum closed his eyes.

He worried he might not sleep well, but after crying until his head throbbed, the exhaustion gave him no time to think before he drifted off.

“Yeoreum, we’re family.”
“Family shouldn’t do that.”
“You should’ve listened to me.”

As Yeoreum lay in the white room, covered by the blanket, voices of varying tones seeped into his ears.

We’re family. I’m right. I’m right because we’re family.

Was that true? Yeoreum struggled to agree. There had never been a chance to argue right and wrong. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to grab Yi-eon’s legs and beg for forgiveness. To admit that Yi-eon was right and promise to do better.

Yeoreum opened his eyes after firmly resolving to do so. His surroundings were pitch black, confirming it was late at night. He must have slept far longer than the one hour he had planned. It was clear Yi-eon had already eaten dinner, and Secretary Yoon had probably gone home too.

His body burned hot. Sleeping with the window open last night, skipping meals, and crying must have taken their toll. With a heavy, dizzy head, he forced himself up. His throbbing head and the heat radiating from his eyes made it feel like his vision was shimmering.

Before he even realized it, his body moved instinctively, leading him out of the room.

Cold sweats trickled down as his feverish body alternated between feeling hot and cold. The saying that eating properly keeps illness at bay proved to be true.

Dragging his feet, Yeoreum stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway. The faint hallway lights revealed faint noises coming from beyond the door. It was clear Yi-eon was inside. Rubbing his burning eyes, Yeoreum turned the knob and opened the door.

A soft orange glow filled Yi-eon’s room. Yi-eon sat leaning against the headboard of his bed, illuminated by a large mood lamp. He wore thick-framed glasses that Yeoreum had never seen before, focused on the screen of a large tablet.

“You’re not even knocking anymore?”

Startled by the sound of the door opening, Yi-eon’s face showed a mix of surprise and annoyance. But as soon as he realized it was Yeoreum, a small smile appeared on his lips. Placing the tablet facedown, he adjusted his glasses.

Yeoreum glanced at Yi-eon’s clear face for the first time in a while and then lowered his head. The emotions he had held back to see him surged and wouldn’t subside.

Trying hard to regain his composure, Yeoreum firmly closed and locked the door he had entered through, signaling his intention not to leave again. The sound of the lock echoed loudly in the still room. Yi-eon suppressed a chuckle at Yeoreum’s bold action.

“Hyung,” Yeoreum called out, his footsteps hesitant as they were in the hallway. He dragged his feet toward Yi-eon’s bed. Yi-eon remained seated in the middle of the bed, his lower half covered with a blanket, simply gazing at Yeoreum.

“You’ve gotten good at calling me ‘hyung.’ What’s the matter, Yeoreum?”

In his mind, Yeoreum was telling himself to apologize and ask to go back to how things used to be.

“I want to apologize… but it hasn’t been easy to see you…”

But whether it was due to the overwhelming heat of the moment, even opening his mouth required immense willpower.

“Apologize for what?”

“…”

“What did you do wrong?”

At some point, Yi-eon noticed Yeoreum, who couldn’t lift his head, and couldn’t help but hide his amusement. It wasn’t easy to suppress the laughter threatening to escape. Everything was going as he had planned from the beginning.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone outside…”

“Go on.”

Yeoreum pressed the back of his hand to his eyes, holding back tears. Why did I do that?

The moment he stepped into the room and heard Yi-eon’s gentle voice, the tears that had been held back threatened to fall, but he lowered his head and held them in. Crying after coming to talk would only make him look pathetic.

“…I didn’t mean to hide it or go out on purpose. I knew everything, but…”

“Are you saying you won’t do it again?”

“…What?”

“Isn’t that what you meant?”

Yeoreum was too afraid to look him in the eyes.

“Y-Yes… You’re right.”

The boy, clasping his trembling hands together, nodded vigorously. His rapid nodding made him feel dizzy. He couldn’t speak as he struggled to suppress his tears.

As Yeoreum stammered, Yi-eon’s voice came through clearly. Perhaps because he was standing at Yi-eon’s feet, his words rang louder in his ears.

“Come here.”

When Yeoreum cautiously lifted his head, he saw Yi-eon holding his arms open. Despite how excruciating it was to get here, running into Yi-eon’s arms brought no pain at all.

Yeoreum rubbed his eyes and collapsed into Yi-eon’s embrace. To be precise, Yi-eon grabbed Yeoreum by the underarms and lifted him onto his thighs.

“Are you still crying?”

“…I’m not crying.”

With his small frame and childish mindset, Yeoreum still seemed like a little boy nestled in his older brother’s arms. Yeoreum shook his head, burying his face in Yi-eon’s chest. The warmth of his embrace made him feel even sadder.

“Then are you angry?”

“…”

“Don’t be mad. I only did it because I was worried about you. I can’t forbid a grown child from doing something out of worry, can I?”

You understand that, right? Yi-eon spoke as he patted Yeoreum’s head.

Yeoreum understood completely. Hearing his words now made his actions seem reckless. Knowing that it wasn’t about being abandoned as useless was enough.

“Since angry Yeoreum is so scary, I’ll let you do whatever you want from now on. Were you upset?”

Yeoreum lifted his face slightly from his embrace. Though it had only been a day, it felt like forever since he had met Yi-eon’s gaze up close. He neither nodded nor shook his head at Yi-eon’s question. Instead, the tears welled up and slowly trickled down his cheeks. Yi-eon’s lips curled further upward.

“You must’ve been really upset. From now on, we’ll do everything together so you won’t feel that way again.”

He said this to ease Yeoreum’s sorrow. Yi-eon used one hand to wipe away the tears falling down Yeoreum’s face while holding him tightly. The boy trembled pitifully.

Yeoreum didn’t want to let go. The brief outing had caused him so much pain that he found it hard to believe it was all from a misunderstanding.

“…Yes, please.”

Seeing Yeoreum trembling uncontrollably and clinging to him, Yi-eon realized he was on the verge of complete success. It had been a long journey. Yi-eon patted Yeoreum’s back, who clung to him like a child returning to their parents. Yeoreum, who had been tense and stiff, relaxed his body to match Yi-eon’s gentle rhythm.

“You haven’t eaten? You feel even lighter.”

As Yeoreum let go of his tension, the pain that had been building came crashing in. Suddenly, he began gasping for breath, and Yi-eon grabbed his shoulders, meeting his gaze.

“Are you hurt?”

“…Yes. I feel dizzy, and my head hurts so much.”

Yeoreum was always quick and honest about expressing pain. Yi-eon supported the boy, who had been sitting on his thigh, and laid him down beside him. Pulling the thick blanket over Yeoreum up to his neck, he tucked him in snugly.

When Yeoreum blinked and looked upward, Yi-eon’s face came into view. His black, thick-rimmed glasses suited him well. Despite seeming like someone who would never move, Yi-eon got off the bed, slipped on indoor slippers, and left.

“Where are you going?” Yeoreum slowly moved his head to watch him.

“I’ll get medicine. Close your eyes.”

“…Okay.”

“You’re listening well.”

He stroked Yeoreum’s head before opening the locked door and disappearing. The sound of his footsteps echoed clearly as Yeoreum closed his eyes.

You listened well. Those were Yi-eon’s words. Yeoreum wanted to hear those sweet words every day from now on. For that to happen, he resolved to try his best, even if just for a moment.

He shouldn’t fall asleep, but his head throbbed, and dizziness overwhelmed him. Yeoreum couldn’t fight the drowsiness that came over him.

Leaving Yeoreum alone had been both the best and worst choice. It had been less than a day, yet so much had unfolded.

“Yeoreum, are you asleep?” Yi-eon whispered, bringing his face close to Yeoreum’s ear.

Yeoreum, peacefully lying in the warmly lit room, appeared to have fallen deeply asleep, unable to fight the pain any longer.

Placing the tray with medicine and water on the nightstand, Yi-eon climbed back onto the bed. In the short time he was gone, Yeoreum’s face, now glistening with sweat, appeared even more gaunt.

Yi-eon hadn’t expected Yeoreum to come to him first and talk. The boy always managed to surprise him in unexpected ways.

As Yi-eon watched the boy sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, he gently moved the blanket covering Yeoreum to one side. From the tray, he picked up a powdered medicine packet, dissolving it in water without hesitation.

He then brought the solution to his mouth and drank it. Before the bitter taste could overwhelm him, he leaned down, bringing his face close to Yeoreum’s.

Balancing carefully, Yi-eon lowered himself, allowing the liquid in his mouth to flow gently into Yeoreum’s. Their lips touched briefly as the medicine passed from one to the other.

The rough movement was done without a second thought. As if the only significance was the fact of having given the child the medicine, Yi-eon held the child’s cheek and lightly pressed his lips against them, ensuring not a single drop was left. Even though it had all been swallowed, a bitter taste lingered in the child’s mouth.
“It’s bitter,” Yi-eon murmured, wiping away the residue around the child’s lips with his thumb. He then straightened his bent back. Although he wasn’t directly supporting him, the fact that he was straddling Yeoreum made the child’s form completely hidden.
Every day, Yi-eon filled Yeoreum’s closet. From underwear to outerwear, there wasn’t a piece of clothing that Yi-eon hadn’t selected. Naturally, the pajamas Yeoreum was currently wearing, as they lay comfortably in his bed, were also among those Yi-eon had provided.
The pajamas were often made of thin, fluttery material. Whenever Yeoreum wore a light-colored set, his body would be faintly visible through the fabric. When his frail silhouette was clearly visible, Yi-eon would unconsciously clench his fist. And even now, he was doing the same.
Yi-eon stared at the child, his gaze slowly moving from his face down to their slender belly. The thin pajamas were easy to pull up. As the fabric bunched up, his white skin was revealed. Yi-eon Slowly spreading his palm, placed it on Yeoreum’s belly caressing it. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he was feeling it.
The child stirred uneasily under Yi-eon’s relentless touch but didn’t wake up. His belly was warm from the fever. Yi-eon had touched this same skin while bathing him, using some flimsy excuse. And now, he was doing it again.
Yi-eon grasped the child’s small br3ast with one hand and squeezed. The skin was so thin that it barely filled his hand.
The pulled-up pajamas were bunched around Yeoreum’s shoulders. Yi-eon pulled out his p3nis from his pants and gripped it. His eyes, fixed on the child, began to cloud with desire. He slowly moved his hand, which was stroking Yeoreum, toward his br3ast.

Yi-eon continued to move his hands, his actions driven by a primal urge. Yeoreum’s body twitched beneath him, a subtle response to the sensations. Their breathing quickened, a low moan escaping his lips.
Yi-eon reached a climax, his body convulsing. His cum mingled with Yeoreum’s fluids, staining their skin. He held him close, his hand tracing the contours of the child’s body.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
He gently cleaned Yeoreum’s body, then pulled the covers over him. As he lay beside Yeoreum, he watched him peacefully asleep, a sense of possession washing over him.