Kiss the Scumbag-Chapter 67

Knock, knock.

The sound of knocking came again.

Yujin still held his breath, ears straining for every sound. His heartbeat was so loud, he thought he might be discovered. But even just suppressing his ragged breathing with both hands over his mouth was already a struggle.

No way... seriously?

He couldn’t believe it. It had been years. And now? Just like that?

It was completely disorienting.

And maybe it was because he hadn’t heard Winston’s voice in so long, but he wasn’t even sure anymore. Somehow it even sounded deeper than he remembered.

Maybe I’m mistaking Harold’s voice... freewebnøvel.com

That had to be it. Yes, Yujin told himself. He could still smell that sweet scent.

Shivering in fear, he heard the voice again from below.

“Yujin, are you asleep? It’s me, Winston.”

What?

His eyes widened.

What did he just say?

Winston... came back?

This time he was too shocked to move. He dropped his hands from his mouth and frantically looked around. His eyes caught the wide open window just in time to hear him continue:

“Sorry for coming unannounced. I just... missed you too much.

...Did you forget about me?”

The last part trailed off, as if unsure of itself. Then came another voice, quieter still.

“Or... maybe you don’t want to see me.”

No, Winston!

That low, almost self-mocking tone sent Yujin scrambling out of bed and toward the window. In that «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» short moment, a flurry of thoughts rushed through his head. Harold didn’t know about what they used to do in secret—he wouldn’t make up something like this. Besides, if Harold wanted him, there’d be no need for this kind of roundabout approach.

Could it really be Winston?

With hope and excitement making his breath shallow, Yujin leaned out the window to look toward the front entrance—but froze.

The man standing under the moonlight looked nothing like the Winston he remembered. He had always been taller, yes, but not like this. He looked like he could reach the second-floor window with his arms outstretched. Even from above, it was clear—those broad shoulders, that built body. He wasn’t a boy anymore.

He was fully, overwhelmingly, a man.

Yujin hesitated. Should he answer? What if it wasn’t him?

But who else would come here—if not Harold or Winston?

And he hadn’t seen Winston in years. How long had it been since he broke that promise to return tomorrow?

Still unsure, still wavering, the man below spoke again.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, Yujin. Good night.”

Maybe he thought Yujin was asleep. His voice had softened, almost shy.

He turned, stepping down the stairs in long, easy strides—three steps at a time.

Yujin saw that familiar movement and before he realized, a name burst out of his throat.

“Winston!”

The shout made him turn sharply.

Their eyes met—and though only the soft moonlight lit the night, they recognized each other instantly.

“Yujin.”

Winston smiled, wide and bright, and strode back toward the house in a near-run.

Seeing that, Yujin acted without thinking—he stepped onto the window ledge.

“Wait, Yujin! That’s dangerous!”

Winston shouted in alarm and ran forward.

Yujin didn’t hesitate. He jumped.

“Uwah!”

Winston’s arms shot out just in time. Yujin squeezed his eyes shut on instinct—but he didn’t fall.

He realized he was being held in firm, strong arms. Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to meet Winston’s relieved smile.

“If I’d known you’d welcome me like this, I would’ve come sooner.”

He laughed, making a playful joke—but Yujin didn’t laugh.

His nose stung with emotion. Suddenly, he clenched his fists and started pounding Winston’s shoulder and chest.

“Ow—ow ow, wait, Yujin! Be careful!”

Winston tilted his head back, wincing dramatically, but he never let go. So Yujin kept hitting him until he’d gotten it all out.

“You said you’d come tomorrow—and I waited, for so long!”

Panting, Yujin glared at him.

“Sorry,” Winston said with a crooked smile. “I had my reasons. I’ll explain.”

Yujin wanted to say he didn’t care. He wanted to stay mad. But another emotion pushed up first.

He choked back a sob.

“I missed you.”

Winston’s arms tightened around him, pulling him in closer.

“I missed you so much too.”

“...Hic.”

As Yujin began to sob, Winston murmured another apology. Yujin clung to his neck and cried for a long, long time.

“Here. Drink this.”

Winston handed Yujin a glass of water as he sat on the couch, face swollen from crying.

“Thanks,” Yujin whispered, taking the glass and draining it all at once.

“Feeling better now?”

Yujin nodded. Winston took the empty glass and set it on the table, then sat beside him and kissed his cheek lightly.

“Don’t ever do something that dangerous again. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“...If you came more often, I wouldn’t have.”

Yujin muttered in a small voice, sulking.

He’d been so happy to see Winston, he didn’t even think about stairs. He’d been terrified Winston might leave again. But instead of understanding that, Winston scolded him.

He pouted, lips jutting out. Winston tapped them lightly with a finger, chuckling.

“Alright, alright. I’ll come more often. So you’re not mad anymore, right?”

“...Come every day.”

“Got it. Every day.”

He promised again, then wrapped an arm around Yujin’s shoulder and pulled him in close.

Yujin naturally rested his head on Winston’s chest. Winston leaned back into the sofa and let out a deep breath.

“God... it’s been so long.”

It came out like a sigh of disbelief. Yujin hesitated, then asked cautiously:

“Hey, I’ve been wondering... why do you smell like Harold? And your eye color, too.”

Winston answered like it was nothing.

“Just like you guessed—I manifested. Same trait as Father.”

But something in his tone sounded bitter.

Is that... bad?

Yujin looked confused, so Winston went on.

“That’s why I couldn’t come back. I lost consciousness when it happened.

When I woke up, I was in England.”

“England?”

“Yeah.”

Yujin gasped. Winston nodded.

“My mother made the decision on her own. I couldn’t return to the main house.

I only made it back after I got into college.”

He didn’t explain how hard he had to fight to get back. That he hadn’t been allowed home for breaks, holidays—nothing.

None of it mattered compared to the loneliness Yujin must have endured alone.

Winston kept it simple and smiled.

“It’s okay now, Yujin. I can come often. I’m back for good.”

“That’s a relief...”

Yujin smiled brightly, finally at peace.

His face was puffy from crying, lips curved with effort—but the look made Winston ache with both pity and love.

He couldn’t resist kissing him.

Their lips met softly. His tongue licked gently inside, drawing out a startled shiver from Yujin.

Winston didn’t rush. He pulled Yujin into his lap, one arm around his waist, the other stroking his thigh, lips moving with slow insistence.

Yujin gave soft little moans, his lashes fluttering.

Haa, haa...

When their lips finally parted, Yujin was panting, cheeks flushed.

Winston leaned in for another kiss, but just before their lips met, Yujin whispered:

“...Where did you learn to kiss like that?

Did you date someone while we were apart...?”