DOTH Volume 3 Chapter 8.5

Entering the bathroom, the man began filling the tub. Perhaps sensing that they were in motion, the limp body squirmed in his arms. Glancing down at Jung Heeyeon, he saw long eyelashes fluttering slowly. The ragged breathing between his lips seemed to have calmed, the omega was probably sleepy.

“Heeyeon, you can sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep…”

“You sound sleepy, though.”

Though he said he wouldn’t sleep, his voice was thick with drowsiness. Director Yeon checked the water temperature in the filling tub before carefully setting down the small body he’d been holding. When the warm water touched his skin, the pale foot jolted slightly, as if startled.

“Too hot? Should I lower the temperature?”

“You don’t have to, it’s nice as it is. Thank you.”

Jung Heeyeon sprawled out in the wide tub, looking up at Director Yeon. The man, head tilted, gazed down at him for a moment before turning his back and disappearing somewhere. As the alpha moved, his firm muscles shifted. Even naked, his physique showed no hint of vulnerability.
Jung Heeyeon glanced briefly at his arm, devoid of muscle, before leaning his head against the back of the tub. The lack of strength in his body was one thing, but the drowsiness that kept washing over him was another. For a moment, he wondered if this sleepiness was a result of the overwhelming thrill.
He should hurry and finish showering so Director Yeon could wash too… Perhaps, did the man go to the room he previously used to wash? Or… Before his thoughts could spiral further, sleep surged in like a tidal wave.

Just as his resting head tilted sideways, a large hand immediately caught his collapsing posture.

“You could have gotten hurt.”

“Uh…”

Jung Heeyeon blinked, struggling to fend off sleep. The man, now in a shower robe, gently cupped the cheek that nearly touched the tub’s edge. Long fingers brushed once over the eyes heavy with drowsiness.

“Director, aren’t you going to wash?”

“After I wash you.”

At the matter-of-fact reply, Jung Heeyeon stared at Director Yeon as if deciphering his words. A flicker of confusion crossed his gentle face, spilling out between his plump lips.

“I can wash myself, though…”

“You can barely walk, how are you going to wash yourself?”

Settling at the tub’s head, the man tilted Jung Heeyeon’s limp head back slightly and laughed faintly. Jung Heeyeon gazed at Director Yeon’s upside-down face, lips twitching.

“I usually wash on my own, though…”

“I washed you after your heat too.”

A gentle stream of water began soaking the ends of his hair. Jung Heeyeon reflexively closed his eyes. Shocked to learn he’d fallen asleep in Director Yeon’s bedroom after his heat, he hadn’t registered about that part.

“I didn’t know. Does one usually wash the other after sex?”

Director Yeon moved his hand slowly, ensuring the water spread evenly. The wet brown hair slipped softly between his fingers. The fact that Jung Heeyeon entrusted his body without any guard felt satisfying, yet again.

“Yeah, it’s normal to wash them.”

The man, who’d never personally washed his sex partner, shamelessly answered. Since he planned to wash Jung Heeyeon himself from now on, it wasn’t entirely a lie. Director Yeon parted the wet hair, staring at the bite marks he’d left. His quiet gaze was glued there.

“I see. Your hands feel good, Director.”

“Hmmm, you feel good?”

He chuckled softly and turned off the showerhead. Squeezing out shampoo, he gently rubbed the omega’s hair, lazily reclining in the tub. The slow, deft touch pulled Jung Heeyeon into the swamp of sleep.

After thoroughly washing the sleeping omega’s hair, the man rinsed off the remaining suds with water. The sound of soft breathing mingled with the tranquil trickle of the stream.

“…”

The man, skilled with his hands, meticulously ran his fingers through Jung Heeyeon’s hair. It was just shampooing, but he found himself enjoying the moment. Jung Heeyeon fully entrusting his body to the man, the hair slipping between his fingers, the warmth of the water, and the breaths layering over it—all of it.

Having washed his unconscious body after the heat previously, this second time was much easier. Director Yeon gazed at the peacefully sleeping face and called his name like a sigh.

“Heeyeon.”

The fine eyebrows furrowed slightly, and the eyelashes twitched. But that was it. The body, fully succumbed to sleep, began sliding slowly into the tub. Director Yeon roughly brushed back the slipping hair and stepped into the water.

Easily scooping up the limp figure, the man leaned against the tub and pulled the bare waist closer. Soon, the wet hair he’d washed himself brushed against his chin. Wearing a shower robe was a small mercy—if their naked bodies came into contact, it would’ve been problematic in more ways than one.

The thick arms cradling the sleeping body gently patted Jung Heeyeon’s chest. The plan was to soothe the likely tense muscles in warm water, wash him, and put him to bed—though he was already asleep.

How much time had passed? The body in his arms started to fidget slightly.

“Director…”

Jung Heeyeon slowly lifted his eyelids, feeling someone patting him. He didn’t need to turn to know he was in the man’s embrace. As he shifted, the water in the tub rippled. At the same time, a droplet hanging from his hair fell onto his shoulder with a soft plop.

Instinctively shrinking at the lingering sensitivity, he felt lips press where the droplet had landed.

Relaxing at the sensation, Jung Heeyeon rested his head against the man’s chest again. Lifting his gaze slightly, he sensed the eyes looking down at him.

“You can keep sleeping. I’ll wash you.”

Director Yeon kept patting the omega, who was fighting to stay awake. The deep frown between Jung Heeyeon’s brows suggested his effort to keep his eyes open, but sleepiness still clung heavily to them.

“But you’ll get uncomfortable, Director.”

As expected, his pronunciation slurred slightly.

“This isn’t difficult, so sleep if you’re sleepy.”

The loosely tied robe made the omega’s wet hair spill over Director Yeon’s bare chest. From that small movement alone, he noticed Jung Heeyeon had fallen asleep.

The man’s lips, tormented with unquenchable thirst, brushed against the wet hair.

“Haaa…”

A slow sigh poured over it.

–

After washing up, Director Yeon checked the bed. Jung Heeyeon lay exactly as he’d been placed, breathing softly in sleep. Sitting on the edge, the man stroked the sleeping omega’s hair and reached for his phone. There was a message from Kang Seoui.

[Director Yeon, I heard you went to Busan today.]

He skimmed the rest. It mentioned that photos of him with the smuggled firearms had reached Seonha and Chairman Jung’s side. Showing up in person had made the bait worthwhile. He sent a brief reply to Kang Seoui, then switched recipients to leave a few instructions for Kim Chulwoo.

Barring any surprises, this job would wrap up easily. A big move like this would stir some trouble, though—likely from the media and prosecutors.

“Did you wake up?”

After sending the messages, he asked in a gentle tone. Noticing the change in the other’s breathing, he looked down to see Jung Heeyeon rubbing his eyes. His expression still looked drowsy.

“Yes.”

“You keep waking up, what should we do? Do you feel hungry?”

Jung Heeyeon shook his head while lying down. The scent of sunlight on the fresh sheets and the slow, gentle touch running through his hair made his already languid body melt even deeper. They had gone straight to having sex upon returning home, so dinner time had long passed, but with his stomach still full from the man’s penis, food didn’t cross his mind.

“Want me to hug you?”

The man, now fully on the bed, asked as he turned toward him. Jung Heeyeon wriggled slightly before sitting up. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he settled onto Director Yeon’s thigh and rested his head against the broad chest. Somehow, he felt sleepier now than when he was lying down.
“Director.”

“Yeah, Heeyeon.”

“What were those guns earlier during the day?”

Jung Heeyeon had a rough grasp of the business operations in Jiwoo. He wasn’t naive enough to think the firearms filling the container were legally imported. Lifting his head from the embrace to continue conversing, the man pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm, bait?”

“Bait?”

“Yeah.”

I see. Jung Heeyeon nodded readily. He could guess who the bait was for but didn’t care much.

“Heeyeon.”

“Yes?”

“If I said I’d kill Chairman Jung…”

Jung Heeyeon looked at the man holding him, his expression not much different from before.

“Would you hate me?”
The words that followed were rather unexpected. Director Yeon spoke in a loose tone, his expression one that others might have called insincere, even deceitful. Yet, despite the dangerous words, the hand resting on Jung Heeyeon’s back continued to pat him gently. Caught off guard by the sudden question, Jung Heeyeon’s pale-colored eyes widened slightly. His face looked as if any lingering drowsiness had completely vanished.
“Hmm?”

Jung Heeyeon fidgeted with his fingers in the familiar embrace before slowly shaking his head.

“But Chairman Jung has nothing to do with me…”

Was it five years ago when he last saw him? The Chairman’s face was blurry in his memory. DNA tests confirmed the old man was his grandfather, but Jung Heeyeon had never felt any familial warmth nor feelings. He was just the Chairman to him, like how Lee Yootae called him ‘Chairman’.

It was Chairman Jung who had said their bond would sever the moment Jung Heeyeon became an adult and was sold to an alpha. Now he was an adult, with alpha Director Yeon by his side, their blood ties had reached the end.

Due to prolonged abuse from childhood, Jung Heeyeon felt no anger toward his abuser. Nor did he crave any affection. Neither love nor hate—just a stranger, nothing more. Thus, even if his biological grandfather died, it had no bearing on him.

“Because you’re the person I like, Director…”

Through half-lowered eyelids, he saw the alpha’s eyes.

“Whatever you do, it will be alright.”

At the brief declaration, Director Yeon smiled with satisfaction. The thin, slicing smile was as sharp as the scar above his eyelid.

***

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