“We were supposed to do it in the conference room….”
“Ah. That’s right.”
Song Hanyeong, who had glanced at the conference room, continued.
“I didn’t prepare in advance, so it will take some time. Wait in the conference room and I’ll be right there.”
“Prepare?”
“Yes. If it had been the weekend, I would have prepared in advance, but since it’s right after work, I didn’t have time to prepare.”
“Oh….”
Did it need preparation? Surim rolled his eyes in confusion, then took a step closer to Song Hanyeong.
“Th-then I’ll just go to the lab.”
He didn’t want to make him waste time preparing. It’s not like he had a lab allergy, it was just a bit scary.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“Good thinking.”
Song Hanyeong stroked the back of Surim’s head as if praising him and gripped his nape in his hand.
“Hngh….”
“A bit better than this morning. Well done.”
“Y-yes….”
It seemed eating the chocolate was noticeable. Surim nodded while holding back what felt like a hiccup wanting to come out.
Song Hanyeong, having finished the weight check, walked ahead toward the lab direction. Surim also moved, dragging his feet that wouldn’t easily lift. The lab was a place packed full of failed replicas of his own blood. The unidentifiable chilling sensation he’d felt when he learned that fact came back to him.
“…Manager-nim….”
“Here.”
Just as he was about to ask if they couldn’t do it in the conference room, Song Hanyeong extended his hand to Surim. When Surim looked at him questioningly, Song Hanyeong replied nonchalantly.
“You seem scared. Am I wrong?”
As if the hand was about to be withdrawn, Surim hastily grabbed it. Then Song Hanyeong turned around and started walking.
It was toward the lab, but strangely, it wasn’t as scary as before. No, the fear would still remain. The pounding just overwhelmed that fear. He knew that if he let go of the hand, the chilling feeling would rush back like before, but still, for now it was okay. Surim, caught by Song Hanyeong’s kindness, followed him in a daze.
“Here, this way.”
By the time he came to his senses, he was already inside the lab. Surim, who sat in the cold chair, scanned the surroundings with anxious eyes, then stiffened and fixed his gaze on the ground. His spine still felt chilly from that strange sense of rejection.
“……”
Song Hanyeong slowly looked over the stiffened Surim. That sight was just like a rabbit caught in a trap, which he quite liked. Wasn’t he so weak that he couldn’t even dream of escape?
With a generous heart, Song Hanyeong pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. Only then did Surim slowly raise his head. When Song Hanyeong extended his hand with a kind smile, Surim placed his hand on it like a dog.
“Are you scared of blood draws?”
“No, it’s not that….”
The frightened gaze scanned the surroundings, then shut tightly. They were things that had tried to replicate Jin Surim’s blood but ultimately remained as failures. They had been specially treated so they wouldn’t rot, then numbered and displayed, which seemed to bother him.
“Ah. That blood.”
“…When I think it’s my blood, it’s somehow a bit, creepy.”
“It’s just blood though?”
“But it’s my blood.”
“No. That’s just….”
Song Hanyeong rolled up the sleeves of Surim’s shirt and tied a rubber band around his upper arm. The skin that had been hidden by the shirt was pale to the point of being white.
Perhaps because of that, the scent of blood pulsing beneath the thin skin, that flow of life, was felt vividly. Song Hanyeong felt an appetite that was difficult to control. Just from a glance, he could imagine how thick and sweet the stream of blood would be if he just lightly touched it with his fangs.
“Manager-nim?”
Song Hanyeong, who had raised his cool gaze, smiled faintly while looking at Surim’s clear eyes.
“That’s just a failure. It can’t compare to the real thing.”
Those words even felt somewhat sarcastic. Surim had difficulty distinguishing whether it was self-mockery about the continued failures, or just an original-focused opinion that there was an incomparable difference between real blood and fake blood.
After rolling his eyes for a moment, Surim soon faced Song Hanyeong and nodded. What did it matter anyway? Song Hanyeong was a man with somewhat mysterious aspects to begin with. Just thinking about how he couldn’t say even a word to him even with him right in front of him in college, wasn’t that the case? And Surim was already used to that.
“It will sting.”
“Yes.”
As the needle pierced and entered the skin, blood began to pool in the pack. Song Hanyeong felt a strange sensation as he gazed at that enchanting liquid. It was then that he realized his fingertips were unconsciously tapping on the chair’s armrest, tap tap tap tap.
What was surrounding him was impatience.
Toward what exactly?
Song Hanyeong questioned himself and naturally looked at Jin Surim. Precisely, at the nape of the young man who couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of blood drops dripping into the blood pack. The nape, whiter than the inside of his arm, was tempting Song Hanyeong.
Right, the truth was that rather than putting blood into this kind of blood pack, he wanted to swallow the blood brimming with vitality raging inside there. Directly, the blood that was the only thing in this world that satisfied him.
‘It’s hard to endure.’
Song Hanyeong slowly moved his gaze to Surim’s ear. He wanted to put the ear, slightly laid back more than usual from being so tense, into his mouth and crunch on it. He wanted to hear Jin Surim’s screams. He wanted to see the naked body of the man who, trembling in fear yet unable to run away, would reach his hands up to him.
That was it. What made Song Hanyeong hard to endure now wasn’t appetite but sexual desire. Sexual desire that started from appetite kept provoking Song Hanyeong. To immediately pull out that needle and lick up the flowing blood with his tongue while kneading Jin Surim’s cock erect and wetting his rear….
“Manager-nim?”
A cautious voice woke Song Hanyeong from his thoughts. Song Hanyeong looked for a moment at Surim, who was looking at him with round eyes, then put on a smile as if painted.
“Sorry. I had a thought come to mind for a moment.”
Then he checked the pack and nodded.
“It’s done.”
Surim pulled the needle from Surim’s arm with a clean face and rubbed an alcohol swab over it.
“I-I’ll do it….”
“Go ahead.”
The 200ml of blood drawn today would become material to replicate in the lab for the next two weeks, become a control group compared to the replicated blood, and then the remainder would end up in Song Hanyeong’s mouth.
It was a secret Jin Surim would never know.
“Surim-ssi, it’s already dinner time… How about eating together?”
“What? Dinner… together? But it’s Friday?”
“Yes, it’s Friday.”
When he repeated it as is, Surim’s cheeks flushed and his eyes rolled, then he stammered in response.
“T-today won’t work. I’m sorry. I’ll leave work first!”
Song Hanyeong kept his gaze fixed on Jin Surim’s retreating figure as he ran away like a rabbit freed from restraints, not taking his eyes off him.
“It seems….”
Jin Surim liked Song Hanyeong. But ironically, he didn’t want Song Hanyeong. Wasn’t it strange that despite feeling possessive enough about Song Hanyeong’s belongings to steal the chopsticks he’d casually dropped, he ran away from Song Hanyeong himself?
Song Hanyeong found that fact quite displeasing.
“It seems I need to set a trap.”
Song Hanyeong, who twisted the corner of his mouth, tapped the table with his fingertips.
Jin Surim was prey, and bait. And at that, a temporarily necessary tool that would become useless once it had served its purpose this time. But why was this so irritating?
Song Hanyeong had thoroughly protected Jin Surim with Nasol’s help so he wouldn’t starve to death. But it turned out he had been hiding Surim not only from his uncle but from himself as well. The desire he couldn’t feel when approaching in the form of a cat, when approaching with a slight distance, was now stimulating Song Hanyeong.
A thirst welled up that couldn’t be satisfied with just licking a few drops in the form of a cat as before, and with replicated fake blood.
‘There’s no way I would ever come to desire Jin Surim.’
Song Hanyeong, recalling the words he’d said to Nasol, twisted the corner of his mouth and mocked himself. Probably Nasol had already known then that Song Hanyeong would become unable to keep Jin Surim as mere bait.
“What should I do….”
Song Hanyeong, who had stood up, moved to the window and looked outside. Surim, who had hastily exited the main gate, was clutching his bag and looking up at the place where Song Hanyeong was. What he wanted to see beyond the tinted window that wouldn’t be visible was obvious. It was Song Hanyeong. But Surim, who had been like that for a moment, soon turned around and left.
Song Hanyeong didn’t want to see Surim’s back anymore. Song Hanyeong wanted to see Jin Surim exposing his neck of his own accord before him. He wanted to see the sight of Jin Surim not knowing what to do from desiring him. He hoped that for an opportunity to meet, he would choose an entire weekend day rather than a Friday evening.
In other words, Song Hanyeong wanted to have Jin Surim.
* * *
Surim, who had hastily escaped from the research institute, stopped midway while heading toward the main gate beyond the small lawn. Because a strange thought had suddenly crossed his mind.
‘I didn’t prepare in advance, so it will take some time.’
But after going to the lab instead of the conference room, did Song Hanyeong spend time preparing something? Or did he use some heavy and special equipment? No. It hadn’t even taken five minutes from when Song Hanyeong stuck the needle in Surim’s arm.
