CHAPTER 38: TO HELL WITH IT

"I want it."

When Taras received the answer he’d been hoping for, he slowly nodded and gently grabbed Le An by the shoulders, helping him sit up slightly so he could take the medicine. Le An placed the pill on his tongue and sipped water from the glass Taras held out to him. His hand trembled; he didn’t even have the strength to lift the glass himself.

As the medicine melted in his throat, Le An barely managed to swallow. Before he could drink more than a few sips of water, he attempted to put the glass back on the nightstand; Taras took it from his hand and placed it there himself.

"My throat... hurts," Le An murmured, his hand moving to his neck.

It was from the screams he’d let out and the hours he’d spent crying. Both he and Taras knew this. Yet, neither of them brought it up, as if it were something that couldn’t be spoken about. As Taras slowly laid him back against the pillow, his hands uncharacteristically gentle and devoid of anger, Le An found even their silence to be comforting for a moment.

Because what Taras was doing for him was already unexpected in itself.

As Le An mumbled, "My head’s spinning," he stared at Taras’s face. And Taras stared back at him. Le An no longer understood what this man, who hated him with every fiber of his being, was thinking. Yet the thought he had mumbled earlier, that Taras was a good person, was now solidifying somewhere deep in his heart.

Maybe he just... didn’t like seeing omegas being forced into something. Or maybe, Taras thought that if Le An went through something like that during his heat, he wouldn’t be able to guide him properly in the following days. So, he just wanted to speed things up. Even if it was for his own benefit, Le An was grateful.

Taras was good enough to help someone who had only brought him loss and pain. When this thought brought tears to his eyes, Le An abruptly turned his gaze away from Taras.

A moment later, a sense of loneliness quietly stirred inside him, expecting that Taras would leave soon.

But when he realized Taras was still sitting beside him a little later, he started to feel awkward. He didn’t want to bother him by talking; in truth, his mind wasn’t in a state to form coherent thoughts either.

Taras was now watching Le An, whose muscles began to relax minutes after taking the suppressant. Or more accurately, his gaze was fixed on how Le An unconsciously played with his pinky. He allowed it. Treasure was now even weaker than before, but this time, that weakness was a good kind.

"Why don’t they let you take suppressants?" Taras asked. He had asked this before, but after what he’d witnessed tonight, the answer no longer made sense to him.

Le An lowered his head even further, toward the fingers he was playing with, closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them as if trying to collect himself. "They say it’s harmful for my gland health... that it’s forbidden."

Taras caught the passive acceptance in his calm eyes and asked, "What’s the real reason?"

"..." Le An swallowed, and his Adam’s apple moved slowly along his slender throat. "Probably..." Le An raised his eyes and looked up at Taras, his voice soft. "T-to preserve my fertility."

When Le An quickly averted his gaze and lowered his head, his bangs brushed against Taras’s fingers, making them twitch.

To forbid an omega from using suppressants just to preserve fertility, and then force him to deal with foreign alphas... Hah. The GAC never failed to disappoint.

The truly surprising thing was how Treasure was seen like an object, a thing. And for the GAC, that’s exactly what Le An was. Taras, who had turned his gaze away, looked back at Le An when he continued speaking.

"W-when the experiment succeeds... I’ll be free of this," said Le An, a faint stubbornness and resolve glimmering in his eyes. "Because then..."

For a moment, Le An hesitated, unsure whether to tell Taras he would be declared retired after the experiment. But if Taras continued to receive guiding from him, it wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Maybe Le An would simply be forgotten. The thought of being forgotten and escaping the blinding spotlight that society constantly pointed at him... This made the spark of hope in his eyes grow stronger. "I’ll retire," he finished.

When Taras’s brows furrowed suddenly, Le An wanted to add more. "That’s what the agreement says."

Taras tilted his head, studying Le An. Did he really believe that? Was Treasure really that... naive? Or just kind-hearted? He couldn’t even let the alpha he’d protected from getting killed downstairs out of the building, and yet he thought he could retire.

He truly believed that people would stop using him. Taras didn’t respond. Something in Le An’s current state, the hope in his still-swollen, bloodshot eyes, kept him from saying anything.

Once the suppressant fully kicked in, Le An was finally able to stretch his legs. But then, with an even more innocent boldness, he was now pressing Taras’s hand against his feverish cheek.

Him lying down and Taras sitting beside him wasn’t feeling weird or threatening to Le An anymore. But he was glancing at Taras from time to time, cautious. Afraid of sudden anger or rejection.

Taras snapped out of his thoughts when a sudden question came from Le An.

"Do you want me to guide you?"

He answered after a while. "Do you think I did this in return for guiding?"

Le An didn’t respond, so Taras added, "I’m doing this... in return for your help that night."

When Le An continued to stare at him in silence, Taras sighed and roughly cupped Le An’s cheek in his palm. "What are you even thinking?"

"I was thinking..." Le An unconsciously pressed his cheek further into Taras’s palm. "How would it feel... if you did it for no such reason. How would it make me feel?"

He was becoming more honest. Taras found it momentarily frustrating that Treasure’s curiosity wasn’t about why, but how. Wasn’t he surprised Taras was helping him? Why didn’t he ask why?

That question -why are you helping me when you hate me?- was the last thing Taras wanted to hear. Because he didn’t know the answer to that either. And yet, not hearing it filled him with a strange anger toward Le An.

The truth was, Treasure’s state tonight, and the past few days, had started making him honest, too. Not just honest, but talkative. Curious about Treasure. This was dangerous because every passing minute, Taras felt himself being pulled deeper into the face resting in his palm.

His eyes slowly darkened. Taras looked at Le An’s petite figure lying beneath him and remembered that night, those fragments in his memory. None of it was blurry anymore. He stared deeply at Le An’s lips and instinctively breathed in his scent.

"That would feel like how I felt that night. When you helped me," He finally answered.

He was simply... helping him in return. That was all, right? There was no ulterior motive. There couldn’t be.

"What do you mean?" Le An looked up, confused. He wasn’t in a state to understand much.

"You don’t need to understand."

Le An pouted. "But... that might be the longest answer you’ve ever given me."

Taras replied without looking at him. "Don’t exhaust yourself."

A few minutes later, while Taras’s answer still echoed in his mind, Le An’s face turned red. He stole a glance at Taras. Then looked again. More, and longer. He was staring at his face now. Something inside him was fluttering.

"How much of that night... do you remember?" Le An asked. He was finally able to relax his legs. Taras’s hand, which had been lightly brushing his cheek, paused.

"I remember it all," Taras said, locking eyes with him.

"You... kissed me first," Le An stated, trying to preempt any possible reaction. But Taras said nothing.

The fact that he hadn’t pulled his hand away from Le An’s face gave Le An a little courage. Dazed, he raised his hand.

This moment, this silence, this feeling of safety. Was it real?

"I want to... touch your face," Le An murmured like a whisper. Taras looked at the hovering fingers. "Why?"

"Just to see if... you’re really here and real."

Something clenched in Taras’s chest.

He fixed his gaze on those fingers reaching for him. He didn’t want to look into Le An’s eyes just now. Le An added, this time in a childlike tone as if pleading to be believed, "I have no other intention, really."

Taras’s eyes turned toward him, displeased. "You might be misunderstanding my longest answer," he said coldly.

Le An’s fingers twitched in the air and pulled back, but with earnest desire, he wanted to try again.

When things returned to normal... they wouldn’t have a moment like this again, right?

Le An didn’t understand why that thought made him sad. "I’m not thinking anything wrong, I-I swear," he said quickly, as if trying to convince even himself.

"Such as?" Taras asked.

Le An wanted to say... he knew Taras didn’t like him. That the kiss hadn’t meant anything. That it was just part of guiding. But he didn’t say any of that, afraid even thinking it would sound absurd to Taras.

For a moment, Le An had the urge to say that the kiss had been his first. But with a strange realization, he pulled his hand back even more. Then I guess you’re unlucky... Taras would’ve said something like that, wouldn’t he?

A person who doesn’t even like you a little bit... stole your first kiss.

Why was it saddening that Taras might find those thoughts absurd? Le An didn’t know.

"Nothing. Stupid thoughts, anyway," He mumbled, a broken look in his eyes that Taras couldn’t quite read.

But Taras leaned in slightly, and he felt Le An’s touch as he allowed him. Le An touched his face with a mixed expression, one second curious, the next, nervous.

"You didn’t drink enough water to wash down the medicine," Taras stated. But only his moving lips caught Le An’s attention.

Am I going too far? He looked at Taras, cautious. "Y-you’re real, um, should I..." Stop?

Taras slid one hand behind Le An’s neck to support him, and a whimper escaped. "Ha... T-that. Ugh..."

Le An looked lost. The fingers on his neck, the heat and friction, it made him want to get closer.

"C-can you hold me?" The words slipped from his lips.

"I am already holding you." Taras tilted his head and looked at the frustration on Le An’s face. Le An mumbled, "Please..."

"What else do you want?" Taras’s deep voice carried a natural warning, as if danger rang within it. Le An shivered.

He didn’t know whether it was a sincere question or a trap. But he trusted that Taras wouldn’t mock him this far.

"Just..." Le An, perhaps feeling his most vulnerable, looked into Taras’s eyes. "P-please..."

Please... Taras felt like he already understood what Treasure wanted to say. He felt it in his eyes, in the way he looked at him.

As he began to withdraw his hand from Le An’s neck, Le An’s heart tightened.

He understood that he had gone too far. Le An clung to that hand. "I-I’m sorry."

Taras took his hand away anyway. He reached for the glass on the nightstand. He drank a few gulps of water and put it back. Then, he held Le An’s warm nape again and...

To hell with it, he thought, unable to think about it any longer.

He pressed his lips to his.

And Le An’s heart leapt at the sensation.