"Aren't you starving?" Sasha asked, his tone casual but sharp. "Coz I'm... Lucky I got some money on me. I'm gonna get some food. See ya." With that, Sasha turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Beom behind with only silence and the ache of hunger gnawing at his stomach. Beom let out a heavy sigh, resigned to waiting. For a moment, he just sat there, letting the quiet settle around him.
After a while, he slowly got up, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg, and limped his way to the washroom. The simple act of relieving himself took longer than it should have, given the discomfort in his leg. But finally, he made his way back to the room, only to freeze in his tracks when he spotted an unwelcome visitor on the table: a cockroach.
"Where the heck did this cockroach come from?" Beom thought, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and disbelief. He stared at the insect, his body stiffening as a chill ran down his spine. His katsaridaphobia kicked in, his mind going blank with panic, but his instincts drove him to act.
In a shaky attempt to get rid of the roach, Beom grabbed random objects—a stray shoe, an old magazine, a crumpled piece of paper—and hurled them at it. Each item landed with a thud, scattering across the table, but the cockroach didn't even budge. It was as if the creature was taunting him, fearless, and completely unfazed by his attempts. He let out a frustrated, anxious sigh, feeling as though the walls were closing in on him.
Beom scanned the room desperately, his gaze finally landing on a standing broom in the corner. He moved toward it with trembling hands, gripping it tightly like a weapon. Swallowing hard, he slowly approached the table, his eyes glued to the cockroach, beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow.
"Easy... nice and slow…" he muttered under his breath, trying to steady his nerves. He crept closer, keeping the broom poised, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it echo in his ears. Just as he prepared to take a swing, the cockroach suddenly turned, its tiny antennae twitching, and then—to his horror—it launched itself into the air, wings spreading wide as it flew directly toward him.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! IT FLIES… IT FLLLLIIIIIEEEESSSSS!" Beom shrieked, his voice reaching a pitch he didn't know he was capable of. Instinct took over, and before he knew it, he had launched himself across the room, practically throwing himself onto Sasha, who had just returned with bags of food in his arms. Without hesitation, Beom wrapped his legs around Sasha's waist and his arms around Sasha's neck, clinging to him for dear life.
"Eom… eomma, ba… bakwibeolle isseo!" he stammered, his words frantic and barely coherent as he buried his face against Sasha's shoulder, gripping him as though his life depended on it. Sasha, of course, didn't understand a word of Korean, but Beom didn't even register that in his state of panic.
"Cockroach… there… over there!" he finally managed to get out in English, pointing a trembling finger in the direction of the roach but too terrified to look. His face was pressed so tightly against Sasha that he could feel the other man's heartbeat. For a moment, Beom's thoughts ran wild, filled with irrational fears: what if the cockroach was still flying around the room? What if it landed on him? The very thought made him cling even tighter to Sasha, burying his face deeper into the crook of Sasha's neck, desperate for a shield from the horror that was lurking somewhere behind him.
Sasha, carrying the weight of a grown man wrapped around him, stood there in complete disbelief, staring at Beom in confusion. Sasha's eyebrows raised, clearly bewildered, but Beom couldn't bring himself to let go or even open his eyes. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, his skin crawling with the phantom sensation of cockroach legs. He could only tremble in Sasha's arms, praying that somehow, by some miracle, the cockroach would disappear.
Beom's entire body was trembling, not just from the lingering effects of the fear, but from the sheer embarrassment of having lost control so completely in front of Sasha. His face burned with shame, and his grip on Sasha's neck tightened instinctively, as if holding on to him was the only way to stop the world from spinning. Sasha's steady presence, his warmth, his scent—those things were his anchor in this chaotic moment. Sasha didn't say anything at first, but Beom could feel his silent amusement radiating from him, and then it happened.
A low chuckle escaped Sasha, soft at first, but it quickly escalated into a full-blown laugh. It wasn't a cruel or mocking laugh, but the way Sasha found amusement in Beom's distress sent a hot wave of irritation through him. "Wow..." Sasha's voice dripped with disbelief as he shook his head. "The no-nonsense Beom, the one who never flinches, the one who acts like nothing can shake him... clinging onto me like a damn leech because of a tiny cockroach. Seriously?" Sasha's laugh only grew louder, and Beom felt like his entire face was on fire.
Shut the fuck up... Beom's thoughts screamed as his fingers dug into Sasha's shoulders. He could feel the man's muscles, firm and solid under his hands, and yet Beom couldn't tear himself away. He wasn't about to let go—not until Sasha took care of that damn cockroach.
"Shut the fuck up and kill the goddamn cockroach," Beom finally managed to say, his voice tight with anger. There was a sharp edge to his words, but even as he spoke them, his legs were still wrapped around Sasha's waist, and his arms were practically glued to his neck.
Sasha, still grinning widely, made no move to hurry. "Okay then," he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. "Get down and let me kill it."
Beom's stomach churned at the thought of letting go. No... no, no... I can't just let go... His legs instinctively tightened around Sasha's waist, pulling him closer, as if somehow the man's proximity would protect him from the nightmare on the table. "N-no... no, no," Beom stammered, his voice faltering slightly as he clung to Sasha with all the strength his arms could muster.
Sasha's chuckle echoed in Beom's ears, the sound both mocking and strangely comforting in its casualness. The laughter only made Beom grip him tighter, his face buried in the crook of Sasha's neck, pressing against him as though he could will the cockroach away by sheer force of will.
Sasha, however, seemed to find this all highly amusing. He didn't even seem phased by the fact that Beom was holding onto him like a lifeline, and the more Beom clung to him, the more Sasha seemed to enjoy it. With a small shake of his head and a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, Sasha finally gave in.
"Alright, alright," he muttered, clearly entertained by Beom's panic. With exaggerated care, he reached over and grabbed a nearby worn-out magazine, unfolding it in his hands. Beom's heart skipped a beat as he realized what Sasha was about to do. No way... he's actually going to—
Beom didn't dare look up, not wanting to see the cockroach any longer. His mind was focused entirely on Sasha's movements. He could feel Sasha shift under him, his chest expanding as he stood, making quick work of the magazine. Beom's whole body tensed as the loud crack of paper slamming onto the table filled the air, followed by a distinct squish.
"There, all done, hero," Sasha's voice rang out, teasing yet undeniably smug. He made it sound so simple—like it had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Beom, on the other hand, was still frozen in place, feeling the last remnants of the panic subsiding slowly. His heart was still racing, his pulse pounding in his ears as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, though the immediate danger had passed.
Beom let out a shaky breath, slowly loosening his grip around Sasha's neck. The sudden sense of calm that washed over him felt almost surreal, like the world had stopped spinning just for a moment. His body, still trembling with residual fear, felt weak as he unwrapped his legs from Sasha's waist. As he did, he reluctantly pulled away, glancing at the table to confirm the cockroach was truly gone.
"Oh..." Beom muttered, his face flushed with embarrassment as he finally allowed himself to look at Sasha, who was still standing with the magazine in hand, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. Beom's thoughts were a disarray of confusion and embarrassment. God, what the hell is wrong with me? I'm a grown man, and here I am, clinging to Sasha like I'm some kind of child just because of a bug...
Sasha, clearly not expecting much in terms of gratitude, raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Maybe a thank you would be nice," he said, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm, though there was a playful warmth beneath it. Beom could feel the weight of Sasha's gaze on him, his expression a mix of amusement and something more thoughtful.
Beom's lips twitched, and for a second, he considered ignoring Sasha altogether. But as he looked up, the faint amusement in Sasha's eyes softened something in Beom's chest, and he found himself sighing. Fine. Fine, I'll say it...
"Oh, yeah, right. Thanks," Beom muttered, his voice quieter than usual, though it carried a touch of sincerity that he didn't quite know how to express. He quickly turned and limped toward the washroom, his foot throbbing with every step, his mind still processing the surrealness of the whole ordeal. I should've never let myself get that worked up... Beom thought, shaking his head as he made his way to the bathroom. But damn... I hate cockroaches.
As he closed the bathroom door behind him, Beom leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath and letting his shoulders slump. His heartbeat was finally starting to slow, but his embarrassment remained like a stubborn knot in his chest. I can't believe that just happened. I'm gonna pretend it didn't, he thought, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Next time, I'm not going anywhere near a cockroach.
After a few minutes, Beom finished drying off and wrapped a towel around his waist. The warm steam from the shower still clung to his skin as he made his way back to the room. Sasha had just finished eating, tossing the empty food container into the trash with an air of nonchalance.
Beom barely spared Sasha a glance, intent on minding his own business as he rummaged through his belongings. For a brief moment, the room was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic outside. Then Sasha's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"You're really making it hard for me, you know," Sasha said, his tone teasing but laced with something heavier. Beom glanced at him, frowning. That smirk was back. "Just imagine me cumming all over those beautiful nipples of yours..." Sasha added, his grin widening.
Beom's face twisted in both shock and irritation. Without thinking twice, he grabbed a shoe and threw it at Sasha. "Stop saying such foolish things!" he snapped, his voice sharp with anger.