Snake Venom Ch 116

Chapter 116

As the soaring pleasure gradually ebbed, Yeonwoo’s vision slowly cleared. The frantic contortions his body had been caught in moments before already felt distant, like a delirious dream slipping away. Blinking twice, he lowered his head, face twisting with mortification.

Reality flooded him, scorching through every limb—not heat-driven arousal this time, but pure, scalding shame. He looked down at his hand. Dewy streaks of release clung messily to his fingers. Between his clothes and his thighs—on the floor, too.

Only then did the traces he had left fill his sight in their entirety. The stained bedding, his pants and underwear discarded carelessly on the floor, and worst of all—Cheon Wooshin’s shirt, crushed pitifully in his arms. Dizzy, Yeonwoo curled in on himself.

He had done something utterly depraved. In his entire life, nothing like this had ever happened before.

In the oppressive darkness, his eyes trembled on the verge of tears.

The world outside the window remained shrouded in pale, murky dawn. Awakened by the chill in the air, Yeonwoo rubbed his forearm and sat up. He checked his phone, finger hesitating over the screen. Slowly blinking sticky eyes, he lingered a moment—then typed. His previously dazed expression hardened with grave seriousness as he sent a short message to Wooshin.

“I’ve really lost my mind.”

Muttering a brief self-rebuke, Yeonwoo shot to his feet. Walking, he stripped off his T-shirt and pants, tossing them aside before striding into the bathroom.

Under the shower, he closed his eyes. Warm water enveloped him, loosening muscles chilled stiff through the night. He exhaled slowly, tilting his head back as water slid down his face, past his jaw, dripping to his toes.

The sound of the shower filled his ears. Wherever the water flowed, sensation followed—and with it, the shameful memories of the night before. Peace, warm and fleeting, dissolved almost immediately.

Covering his face with both hands, Yeonwoo hunched over. His back hit the shower wall with a dull thud. Clear streams broke over pale, smooth curves. Through parted fingers, a muffled voice spilled out.

“I really have lost my mind…”

The heat cycle had ended after a single night, yet Yeonwoo still remained trapped somewhere in that night. Its fever, its afterglow, its vivid memory—twisting together with awareness and shame—pummeled him. Even if he were to go back, he would do it again. He tried to blame the heat, insisted it forced his hand, but his conscience would not let him go.

“I’m sorry, Team Leader. I— I dared to use you as side dishes…”

Confession or curse, the words sounded absurd even to his own ears. Yet the fact that he still longed to see Wooshin more than anything proved he was truly insane.

“Ughh…”

Groaning, Yeonwoo curled even tighter beneath the water, unable to move for a long time.

[Let’s have breakfast here and head to the office after.]

Taking the taxi Wooshin sent, Yeonwoo arrived at Seolkyung’s home and cleared his throat awkwardly at the entrance. But even that failed to calm him—he rolled his neck, stretched his shoulders. The more effort he put in, the harder his heart pounded. Yet he couldn’t just stand there forever.

He rang the bell. Soon, movement stirred inside. When the door cracked open, a tall silhouette appeared—not Seolkyung, but Cheon Wooshin.

So much for preparation—one glance at him, and memories from the previous night surged violently. Yeonwoo dropped his gaze, desperate to hide his fluster. Pressing down the unruly echoes, he moved stiff lips.

“Uh… good morning.”

It was painfully awkward.

Wooshin remained silent. His quiet stare unsettled Yeonwoo. Wooshin had looked at him like this before—but today, the weight of it felt different. Because of last night. Even knowing Wooshin couldn’t possibly know, Yeonwoo’s body still shrank.

What’s wrong? Why is he like this? Did something happen? His scent’s fine, so…

The longer the silence stretched, the more anxious he became. Just then, Seolkyung’s voice drifted from inside.

“Why are you standing there? Come in.”

Wooshin turned slightly at her voice.

His courteous gesture as he stepped aside flickered at the edge of Yeonwoo’s vision. Bowing quickly, Yeonwoo passed him. The tips of his ears reddened, woefully betraying him. Wooshin’s unblinking gaze trailed after him, chilling and still—a motion too subtle for Yeonwoo to notice as he struggled to remain composed.

The hallway filled with the faint aroma of breakfast, growing stronger as he walked. Following the scent, he entered the kitchen. His eyes fell on the table—fried eggs, toast, salad. A simple breakfast, yet the plating showed a hint of clumsiness.

Seolkyung set down three sets of utensils at once, smiling brightly despite lingering traces of having rushed.

“Sleep well? Feeling okay?”

“Yes.”

Gesturing toward his seat, she untied her apron.

“Great. Tell me if anything feels off. Sit, eat.”

“Thank you for the food.”

Yeonwoo was a good eater—no picky habits, no complaints. Watching him devour his food with innocent vigor, Seolkyung’s expression softened. She then turned to Wooshin. He stared at the poorly-fried eggs, then reluctantly picked up his fork. With a sour expression, he jabbed the yolk. Seolkyung’s eyes sharpened instantly.

Unbothered, Wooshin lifted a piece of egg with elegant indifference, chewing slowly and deliberately—almost provocatively. Seolkyung scowled.

Yeonwoo chewed quietly, watching them from the corner of his eye. Perfect, composed Wooshin turned mischievous in the right company—different from when he teased Yeonwoo himself, and yet still somehow… vexing. A sharp pang pricked his chest. He scowled faintly.

Again… jealousy.

Lifting his gaze, Yeonwoo suddenly met Wooshin’s eyes—who had apparently been watching him already.

Cough.

Choking, Yeonwoo grabbed water and gulped.

Seolkyung began discussing Wooshin’s condition. She explained that the abrupt shifts in personality and shared memories between his multiple identities were actually a positive sign. And that going forward, those swings would likely lessen in frequency and intensity. Meaning—the looming threat over Wooshin’s life had retreated, even slightly.

“So that’s why we need to stick together.”

Even spoken jokingly, her conclusion made Yeonwoo unable to lift his head. His past hurt toward Wooshin weighed heavily on him.

Once again, Wooshin’s quiet gaze touched the crown of Yeonwoo’s head before gliding away without a sound.

Before they left, Seolkyung wished to attach a bio-response device to Yeonwoo’s wrist—the same one Wooshin wore.

“We need your vitals too, for the time being.”

Yeonwoo glanced at Wooshin, found no objection, and nodded.

The looseness he’d felt while chatting with Seolkyung vanished the moment she saw them out. The air seemed to change as the door closed—Yeonwoo prayed it was his imagination. Quietly, he followed the already-moving Wooshin.

But the dread remained. What would they talk about in the car? What would Wooshin say? When apart, he ached to see him—yet now that he stood beside him, he didn’t know where to put himself. And the only thing he’d done while apart was—stroke himself raw, clutching Wooshin’s clothes, moaning his name.

Recalling it, Yeonwoo screamed silently as Wooshin opened the car door and stepped in.

Before starting the engine, Wooshin adjusted a few settings. Soft music filled the air. Yeonwoo focused on the melody, desperate to ignore the silence between them.

They drove for a while. Then, suddenly, the faint scent in the car thickened. Instinctively, Yeonwoo turned toward it. His view flooded with Wooshin’s profile. At a red light, Wooshin turned his eyes toward him.

“Should we get you an injection?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Their gazes clung. Silence stretched, threaded through delicate notes of music.

Ah. I did it again.

Realizing only belatedly that he’d been staring, Yeonwoo tore his eyes away just as Wooshin reached over. A large hand brushed the crown of his head. Long fingers grazed the edge of his soft ear in passing.

That small touch sent his heart quivering. No—his whole body trembled. Wooshin’s low voice seeped into his ear.

“I expected this much.”

His fingers combed through Yeonwoo’s hair briefly, lightly, almost casually.

“But seeing it with my own eyes… resisting is difficult.”