Chapter 66

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“What were you looking at earlier?”

As breakfast drew to a close, Cherriot posed the question as though it had only just occurred to him.

Yuri, who was polishing off the last of the mixed-berry salad Cherriot had prepared, blinked in surprise. For a beat, he had no idea what Cherriot meant, until the memory of a brown dog lurking in the bushes flashed through his mind. Cherriot’s arrival had pushed the recollection aside, but a stray had wandered into the backyard that morning. The memory of its limping hind leg weighed heavily on him now.

“A dog.”

“A dog?”

“It looked like a stray.”

“Couldn’t it have lost its owner?”

Yuri shook his head. It had been wearing no collar, and its condition was far too wretched for it to be an ordinary lost pet. He prodded a blackberry with the tip of his fork, wondering if dogs could even eat fruit. It looked starved. Would meat have been better than fruit? Then again, even a starving person could become sick from something too rich; perhaps dogs were the same.

Yuri turned the possibilities over in his mind before slowly lifting his fork. His appetite had faded, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave behind a meal Cherriot had lovingly made for him.

Then, their eyes met.

Cherriot had propped his chin on one hand, staring at Yuri with the absorbed focus of someone admiring a masterpiece. When Yuri raised his brows in confusion, Cherriot spoke with complete sincerity.

“I didn’t know you liked dogs. If I’d known, I would’ve brought one home ages ago.”

“I don’t particularly like them.”

Yuri had no idea how Cherriot had reached that conclusion, but Cherriot plowed on, undeterred.

“Come to think of it, wolves are part of the dog family. You’re Wolfie, so of course you’d like them. I can’t believe I’m only realizing this now.”

Yuri flinched at the nickname.

It had been a very long time since he’d heard it. For reasons Yuri couldn’t fathom, Cherriot hadn’t called him by that old pet name even once since he’d awakened from his coma. Given that Yuri had spent more time unconscious than the two of them had ever spent together, it wouldn’t have been strange for Cherriot to forget. Yet, Yuri had grown more accustomed to being called Wolfie than he cared to admit, and its absence had disappointed him. A little. Perhaps a great deal.

Still, he hadn’t possessed the nerve to ask a man he wasn’t even dating to call him by an affectionate nickname. Instead, he had silently wished Cherriot might let it slip without thinking.

But now, Cherriot had finally said it.

It was nothing more than a name, yet pleasure surged through Yuri with such startling intensity that he pressed his lips together, unfamiliar with the sudden vulnerability within himself. He tried to remain silent, but in the end, the impulse was irresistible. Unsure if he had any right to say it, he surrendered anyway.

“You used to call me that whether I wanted you to or not.”

“…What?” Cherriot’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, Wol—?”

His lips snapped shut before he could finish. The nickname Yuri had longed to hear vanished, replaced by an expression that suggested Cherriot felt he had made a grave mistake.

Disappointment flared through Yuri. He deliberately looked away, hoping to cast off the lingering regret, but the words continued spilling out before he could stop them.

“You used to call me Wolfie,” he admitted, knowing the moment the words left his mouth how unlike him it sounded. But it was too late to recant. “You haven’t called me that once since I woke up.”

Despite his composed tone, Yuri’s mouth had gone dry. Looking back, the nickname had originated from a rule they’d invented to conceal Cherriot’s identity in front of others. Now that they no longer needed to hide, perhaps Yuri was making a presumptuous request.

The longer Cherriot remained silent, the deeper that fear took root. I shouldn’t have said anything. He had probably burdened someone who was already exhausted from worrying over him. Cold crept into Yuri’s fingertips as regret washed over him in waves. He kept making these uncharacteristic mistakes in Cherriot’s presence. He had once revealed feelings he should have buried forever, and now he had done it again. Foolishly.

Unable to endure the silence much longer, Yuri was struggling to devise an excuse when Cherriot finally spoke.

“Yuri, did you… want me to call you Wolfie?”

His voice revealed nothing of his expression. Yuri tried to judge whether the question carried a positive or negative meaning while searching for the most natural deflection he could manage.

“…You always called me that. I suppose I’m more used to it.”

Was that too obvious? Self-mockery rose within him. He wanted to look at Cherriot’s face, yet dreaded it. He feared he would find the same troubled expression Cherriot had worn on the day Yuri had confessed his feelings too hastily.

But above all, he didn’t want Cherriot to be uncomfortable. Seeing that expression again would undoubtedly hurt, but Cherriot’s comfort mattered more to him than his own pride. Steeling himself, Yuri forced his head around, considering how to retract what he had just said.

His gaze collided with Cherriot’s green eyes. It wasn’t the expression from that day. Still, it was difficult to interpret positively. Cherriot looked utterly astonished.

“I didn’t know,” Cherriot murmured, sounding as though he were speaking to himself. “If I’d known, I would’ve started calling you that again much sooner.”

Yuri forgot to breathe as he waited for what would follow. Cherriot swept a hand through his hair, beginning to explain slowly, like someone arriving at a belated, profound realization.

“Like you just said, you used to tell me not to call you that. I ignored you and used the nickname whenever I pleased, so… I thought you hated it. I don’t want to do anything you hate.”

It was true that Yuri had once wondered why Cherriot had saddled him with such a ridiculous name. At some point, however, hearing it from Cherriot had begun to feel like a breath of air after suffocation. Can I call you Wolfie? Just as it did now.

Every day with Cherriot had made Yuri happy, but watching him behave so differently from before had also caused a quiet, persistent pain. Now, that pain vanished in an instant. Relief spread through him, almost like the freedom of having a small, sharp thorn pulled from his throat.

The rigidity left Yuri’s mouth as he answered softly, “Yes.”

A radiant smile blossomed across Cherriot’s face. His green eyes brightened like new leaves unfurling in spring, and as the corners of his lips lifted, a small dimple appeared in his right cheek.

There it was. The dimple.

The trace Yuri had searched for so desperately was reflected in his blue eyes at last. It was a mark of genuine joy, entirely absent from the light, habitual smiles Cherriot had offered throughout the past weeks.

“Wolfie.”

At the sight of that smile, hidden for so long as though playing an endless game of hide-and-seek, Yuri’s heart quickened. Hearing the beloved nickname would have been enough, yet Cherriot had given him the smile he had longed to see as well. An uncontrollable tremor hummed through him. His throat tickled as though he had swallowed a fluttering feather, and a faint shiver prickled over the back of his neck.

“Yes,” Yuri replied.

Perhaps a brilliant smile truly was contagious, because Yuri found his own lips softening into a gentle curve beneath his calm blue eyes.

Cherriot stared at Yuri’s face as though witnessing something breathtaking. Then, he planted both hands on the table and abruptly leaned forward. The distance between them vanished.

Cherriot bent over him as though he intended to kiss him, and Yuri froze. Those beautifully pink lips drew so near that tension flooded his body. They had already slept together once, yet Yuri became acutely conscious of him now, as if they had never even touched. They stared at each other with scarcely enough space between them for their noses not to brush.

Still smiling brightly, Cherriot looked into Yuri’s eyes, then suddenly stiffened as if realizing what he was doing. His smile froze in place. Only his gaze moved, dropping to Yuri’s lips. The instant those green eyes settled there, Yuri released a breath warmed by rising heat, and Cherriot’s lashes trembled violently.

“Uh… mm.”

A strange, pained sound escaped Cherriot. He awkwardly raised his head, twisting his chin as though he had to wrench his gaze away by force, and slowly retreated.

“Sorry. I got too close. My hand slipped when I tried to stand up.”

“…It’s fine.”

So he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Yuri swallowed against his dry throat. It had felt entirely like that sort of moment, but apparently, he had misunderstood. A kiss would have been far too sudden anyway. Cherriot wasn’t in rut as he had been that night, so there was no reason for him to kiss Yuri without warning.

But it would have been nice if he had.

The thought flashed through him before he recoiled from it. Perhaps seeing Cherriot smile had driven all reason from his mind, making him entertain something he had no right to want. Most likely, the peculiar atmosphere moments ago had existed only in his imagination.

Cherriot slowly rose from his chair and began clearing the empty dishes with unnecessary haste. Realizing that breakfast had taken far too long, Yuri set down his fork and prepared to help. The instant he showed signs of standing, Cherriot stopped him.

“Yuri… No, Wolfie. Stay seated.”

Apparently, calling him Yuri had already become the easier habit, because Cherriot corrected himself quickly. Yuri had wanted to hear the nickname again, but he had never meant to force it. The thought occurred to him that Cherriot might be overexerting himself out of guilt, which would be entirely consistent with his behavior over the past several weeks.

“You don’t need to use the nickname every single time.”

It was true that Yuri had missed it, but hearing it wasn’t worth making Cherriot uncomfortable. He added the reassurance to relieve any pressure Cherriot might feel.

Cherriot’s hands stopped over the dishes. “Of course not.”

The denial came so forcefully that Yuri looked up. Cherriot wore the expression of someone desperately restraining himself. Yuri couldn’t imagine what he was trying to hold back, and the mystery left him faintly frustrated. Cherriot’s eyes drooped at the corners; he clearly wanted to say something.

“Cherriot,” Yuri spoke his name, offering an open invitation.

Cherriot’s expression tightened with conflict, but Yuri waited without pressing him. After a moment, Cherriot spoke in a faintly petulant voice.

“…Could you call me Cherry, too?”

There was no reason Yuri could not. He had never been one to use affectionate nicknames as freely as Cherriot did, but if he was permitted to call him by one, of course he wanted to. Cherry. He carefully sounded out the sweet nickname in his mind—one perfectly suited to its owner.

Cherriot fell silent. His eyes widened as he stared at Yuri, and his earlobes turned scarlet. It didn’t stop there; a flush began creeping down the pale skin of his neck.

An odd silence settled over the dining table. Cherriot’s excessive embarrassment made Yuri self-conscious as well, yet he couldn’t look away. This was the same man who had once stripped without hesitation in front of someone he had barely known, and now a single nickname had him blushing so fiercely that it was almost unbearably endearing.

Yuri had assumed Cherriot was not merely experienced but shamelessly smooth. Yet sometimes, he behaved like a complete innocent. This is going to be a problem, Cherry.

Yuri could not tear his eyes from the lovable man before him. Watching Cherriot react so sweetly to a mere nickname brought the desires Yuri had buried with such difficulty surging back to life. Cherriot’s bashfulness made it seem as though he truly liked Yuri—not with some passing fondness, but with something deeper. As though they might actually become lovers.

Yuri knew he would never have been allowed to remain at Cherriot’s side like this if he hadn’t been injured. Even so, the circumstances had changed, and a foolish hope whispered that Cherriot might reconsider the decision he had made before. Did nearly dying make me shameless?

He had once believed that merely being allowed near Cherriot was more than he deserved. Now, after witnessing this, he was imagining that they might become something special. All his life, Yuri had believed himself free of greed. The unfamiliar hunger awakening within him made him feel like a complete stranger to himself.

To dispel the thoughts, he slowly reached for the dishes on the table. Cherriot had already stacked them together, and Yuri had just begun to rise with them when Cherriot finally recovered and stopped him.

“No, Wolfie. Don’t strain yourself. What if you hurt yourself carrying something heavy?”

Before Yuri could point out the absurdity of that statement, Cherriot took the dishes from his hands and strode toward the sink. Yuri looked down at his empty hands, then rose and followed.

“Then I’ll wash them.”

“What? Don’t say something so dangerous. Wolfie already used all his strength eating breakfast. The only thing left for you to do is rest.”

Yuri was fairly certain they had discussed his complete recovery before breakfast, but Cherriot appeared to have forgotten every word of it. Once again, he treated Yuri like an invalid. The habitual thought rose that Cherriot’s kindness had to be rooted in guilt.

Then Cherriot continued, “Once I’m finished here, tell me exactly what the dog looked like. We’ll call a rescue organization and see whether they can find it. If we’re able to take it in, then we will, so the first thing is to locate it.”

We.

The word tangled Yuri’s thoughts. He almost told Cherriot not to concern himself so deeply with something Yuri had merely mentioned in passing. Then he noticed that the back of Cherriot’s neck, visible as he set the dishes in the sink, was still flushed red. Yuri closed his mouth.

Like a stone cast into a lake, the morning sent ripples through the still surface of Yuri’s daily life. From the moment breakfast ended, he remained deeply unsettled, unable to calm himself. Perhaps it was because Cherriot, who had behaved almost exclusively as a nurse and guardian lately, had finally shown a glimpse of his former self. Whatever the reason, Yuri could not stop thinking about him.

Cherriot was always on his mind, but until now, most of those thoughts had been worries. Was he neglecting his own life because he was too busy caring for someone like Yuri? Was it right for him to devote so much time to Yuri when his family troubles must already be tormenting him? Today, however, Yuri’s mind brimmed with entirely different thoughts.

He could not stop seeing Cherriot’s bright smile as he called him Wolfie, or remembering how close he had come, as though about to kiss him. Nor could he forget the way Cherriot’s ears had reddened when Yuri called him by an affectionate name.

Hmm.

Yuri set down the pen in his hand and rubbed his chin. His dark blue eyes stared into empty space, submerged in thought.