CRT Ch 12

Passersby in the coffee shop parking lot curiously glanced at the sleek, low-slung black car. True to its owner, it seemed to subtly compel people to steer clear.

Seok Ryu sat alone by the quiet coffee shop’s window. Cha Yilhyun had gone to fetch a new straw after Seok Ryu accidentally dropped his.

Seok Ryu tilted the takeaway cup, lightly touching his lips to the lid’s opening. The lukewarm liquid brushed his tongue before sliding back. Despite the enticing aroma of roasted coffee and cheesecake, he couldn’t muster the courage to try it.

Guardian stones lacked digestive capabilities, so if food entered their system and wasn’t quickly removed, their organs would rot, causing critical defects in performance. Some of Seok Ryu’s past masters, out of curiosity, had fed him food, only to hurriedly flush his system with soapy water.

A guardian stone, dedicated to bringing wealth and glory to its master, couldn’t even enjoy a single slice of cake. Seok Ryu always wondered what it felt like to find joy in small things.

Nearby, some women chatted while looking at their phones.

“Lee Taeon’s new movie’s gonna hit ten million, right? Thought he’d fizzle out, but he’s lasting.”

“It’s Lee Taeon, duh.”

Recently, Lee Taeon’s action-thriller film had surpassed seven million viewers. Despite frequent controversies over his character, his devilish talent and formidable fandom made him untouchable.

Would Yejun ever command such presence with just his name? After the exclusive contract with Songhyul was announced, thousands of hateful comments and protest calls had paralyzed the PR team. He’d hoped to reshape his bland image with Green Tea and Macchiato, but Yoon Inoh’s sabotage had crushed that too.

Yejun had finally put his guardian stone to the test. Seok Ryu, who should’ve aced it, resorted to underhanded tactics and got caught by the CEO. Everything was spiraling into the worst possible outcome, yet pretending to sip something warm somehow felt comforting.

Cha Yilhyun returned, holding a handful of straws. Seok Ryu frowned, noticing the empty straw holder at the counter.

“One would’ve been enough. Why’d you take so many?”

“They’ll come in handy.”

“Taking them all leaves none for others.”

“The staff said it’s fine.”

“They probably just turned a blind eye because you were making a scene. Put them back.”

Cha Yilhyun glanced at the counter staff, seeking backup. The employee smiled awkwardly.

“He’s the building owner, so it’s okay.”

Seok Ryu shut his mouth, and only then did Cha Yilhyun take the seat across from him. He set the pile of straws on one side of the table. They’d said not to question the CEO’s actions, and now Seok Ryu understood why. Cha Yilhyun picked a red straw and inserted it into Seok Ryu’s cup.

“Sip gently, or you’ll burn your tongue.”

Seok Ryu scowled. He only pretended to drink through the straw. People in the shop偷 glanced at Cha Yilhyun. Dressed in jeans, a loose T-shirt, and a cardigan with bold geometric patterns, he exuded a carefree vibe. Since Seok Ryu usually drew attention wherever he went, sharing someone’s gaze felt strange.

Cha Yilhyun rested both arms on the table, wrapping his lips around his straw. Earlier, Seok Ryu had accidentally poured in too much syrup. Luckily, Cha Yilhyun, who liked sweet things, swapped drinks without hesitation. Today, Seok Ryu’s impatience was at its peak, making him emotional and prone to mistakes over trivial matters.

Until Cha Yilhyun became a devotee, Seok Ryu had to ensure no trouble fell on Yejun. He needed to clean up the reckless words he’d spilled in the elevator. Gripping the plastic cup, Seok Ryu said, “I visited the writer’s place at Yejun’s request.”

Cha Yilhyun chewed the straw, raising an eyebrow as if urging him to continue.

“Yejun usually visits the writer daily to keep him company, but he had an urgent matter today, so I went instead. I was just passing on a message.”

“What did he do before?”

“He went to auditions and mostly took minor roles, I heard.”

“I meant you, Seok Ryu.”

Caught off guard, Seok Ryu froze. Cha Yilhyun, propping his temple with a finger, waited for an answer. They’d prepared for this, so Seok Ryu and Yejun had aligned their story.

“I was just unemployed. Someone I know introduced me to Yejun’s manager role.”

“I thought you two were inseparable, like best buddies. Who’s this someone?”

“Just… someone.”

“Someone?”

Cha Yilhyun latched onto the vague response, pressing relentlessly. The longer this went, the likelier Seok Ryu would slip up. Lifting his head, he snapped, “If I have to explain everything, I’ll submit a resume.”

Suddenly, Cha Yilhyun stirred the ice in his cup with the straw. Whether he was waiting for an answer or scheming something else, his actions lacked context.

Since stepping off the elevator, Cha Yilhyun hadn’t reprimanded Seok Ryu further about visiting Isaac’s place. That felt more ominous. People like him were truly terrifying because they showed their power through a single action, not words, at the most unexpected moments. There was no need to provoke him with reckless behavior.

“I grew up in an orphanage. Someone I met there introduced me to Yejun.”

Cha Yilhyun’s dark eyes deepened.

“So you don’t know your birthday or birthplace.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you miss your mom? You’re at an age where you’d feel it keenly.”

“…”

Seok Ryu pressed his lips shut. The sudden interview-like atmosphere made him tense. Cha Yilhyun studied him before asking, “Are you wearing colored contacts, or did you take them off?”

Seok Ryu checked his reflection in the window. Neglecting himself for two days while dealing with Isaac had darkened his eyes. Cleaning them now would revert them to wine-red, which might seem even stranger. He looked away from the glass.

“I took them off briefly.”

“So the wine-red eyes were contacts.”

“Yes.”

The abrupt interview and lack of reprimand about Isaac left Seok Ryu unsure how to respond. He feared assuming Cha Yilhyun was persuaded again, and with every task going awry, he grew increasingly skeptical of his own abilities.

Could Cha Yilhyun have a strong resistance to the garnet? The workshop’s history never mentioned such a thing, making Seok Ryu’s chest feel like it might burst.

Seok Ryu inhaled sharply. What if Cha Yilhyun owned a guardian stone? If his hunch was correct, he’d been wasting energy on someone impossible from the start. Client lists were strictly confidential, so he couldn’t ask Heewan. No immediate way to confirm came to mind.

Cha Yilhyun, gnawing on the straw, suddenly grew restless, opening his drink’s lid. Tossing the straw into the cup, he stood abruptly.

“Let’s go.”

Already…

Seok Ryu stood, flustered. Cha Yilhyun added seamlessly, “People keep staring at you.”

Pushing his chair back, he asked casually, “Wanna come to my place?”

It was an unexpected offer. But visiting might confirm whether Cha Yilhyun had a guardian stone.

“Sure.”

💎

When Cha Yilhyun flipped the light switch, an expansive living room came into view, too vast to take in at once. He strode in, tossing his black cardigan onto the sofa.

The city skyline glowed beyond the long, curved window, like a panorama. Intricately assembled model sailboats adorned the walls, and fighter jet models lined the spiral staircase to the loft. Seok Ryu learned today that the penthouse had a private elevator and that Cha Yilhyun occupied the entire 30th floor alone.

Standing at the entrance, Seok Ryu meticulously scanned the interior. There were no traces of anyone else living here, nor the distinct disinfectant scent of a guardian stone.

“Come in.”

At Cha Yilhyun’s urging, Seok Ryu removed his shoes. Having not slept since yesterday morning, he felt dizzy. He navigated around scattered drones to enter the living room. A library area by the window also held assembled toys. He worried Cha Yilhyun might suggest building one together.

While scanning the library, a file on the desk caught his eye. The cover label read “The Lake of the Gods Casting File Draft.” His sleepiness vanished.

“Want something to drink?”

Seok Ryu quickly averted his gaze from the file.

“No, I’m good.”

Cha Yilhyun, heading to the wine bar, returned to his spot. He perched on the desk near Seok Ryu, who stole glances at the casting file, trying to calm his racing heart. Yejun, who must be worried due to no contact, came to mind.

“May I make a quick call?”

“Your friend works you hard but doesn’t get you what you need.”

“Manager Byun handles the main duties, so I don’t need one yet. Yejun said he’d buy me one once the contract payment comes, so hurry up and deposit it.”

Cha Yilhyun leaned forward, pulling a phone from the desk drawer—the wine-red one Seok Ryu had seen before.

“Consider it company-provided. When the payment comes, return it or toss it, your call.”

Seok Ryu thought he’d grown used to Cha Yilhyun’s easy kindness, but today it left his mouth dry. He stared at the phone, still warm from Cha Yilhyun’s touch, before gently taking it. In a low, resonant voice, Cha Yilhyun said, “Good boy.”

Seok Ryu slightly furrowed his brow. Turning away, he texted Yejun a brief update on the situation. What would Yejun say if he knew Seok Ryu got caught by the CEO outside Isaac’s place? Even after a while, no reply came.

Seok Ryu pocketed the phone and glanced at the desk where Cha Yilhyun sat. Curiosity about the The Lake of the Gods file gnawed at him. What kind of drama was so grand that Cha Yilhyun founded a company for it, poured in 500 billion won, and drove Asia’s prince Yoon Inoh to obsession?

Tilting his head, Cha Yilhyun caught Seok Ryu’s gaze.

“You keep sneaking looks. Wanna see it?”

Startled by Cha Yilhyun’s sudden intrusion into his view, Seok Ryu flinched. Having been caught visiting Isaac, there was no point hiding. When Seok Ryu nodded, Cha Yilhyun flipped through the file, pulling out a USB.

Searching for something else, he rummaged through the drawer with a serious expression. Finding an item among the clutter, he tore open the plastic and handed it to Seok Ryu—a candy resembling a blue sapphire.

“No, I’m—”

Before he could refuse, the candy rolled into his mouth. Cha Yilhyun raised one corner of his lips in approval, tossing the wrapper carelessly. After a long search, he retrieved a small remote, pressing various buttons. The lights dimmed, and the curtains closed automatically. Had Seok Ryu turned off the lights and closed the curtains himself, he’d have skimmed half the casting file by now.

Cha Yilhyun pulled a chair for Seok Ryu to sit. The cushy seat felt like it’d lull him to sleep instantly. Sitting on a stool, Cha Yilhyun connected a projector to a laptop. Seizing the moment, Seok Ryu discreetly spit the candy into his hand. With no trash can in sight, he reluctantly gripped the sticky candy.

Accepting Cha Yilhyun’s offer for a warm drink led to his home. Taking his phone led to seeing the The Lake of the Gods casting file draft. Every time Seok Ryu accepted something from him, unexpected luck followed. The excessive rewards weren’t purely joyful, as the chain of cause and effect felt unpredictable.

The projector’s light pierced the dim room, hitting the wide wall. A vibrant display of intricate colors unfolded—characters in Eastern-style clothing and fantastical backgrounds. There were also sets under construction and props on vast land. The sheer effort of countless hands was staggering. If Isaac had seen this, refusing would’ve been tough.

At some point, Cha Yilhyun was staring at Seok Ryu. Seok Ryu closed his slack jaw. Turning back to the screen, Cha Yilhyun immersed himself in his masterpiece with intimidating focus. His serious, lowered eyes and chiseled nose resembled a sculptor’s final masterpiece. An artist who admired Rodin once said some beings were worth preserving in history.

Some people shone without relying on mystical powers. Someone hiding a guardian stone wouldn’t casually invite others home. They’d recognize Seok Ryu’s choker and eye color instantly and flee, fearing exposure. Accepting the invitation on a hunch only confirmed his mistake.

Cha Yilhyun flipped through slides quickly, pausing at one image. The moment Seok Ryu saw the word “Biryu” on the screen, he didn’t blink. Biryu had an androgynous face, cold and melancholic. Not conventionally beautiful, but his enigmatic aura drew the eye.

“Have you read The Lake of the Gods?”

“No, not yet.”

A dense, sharp gaze pierced Seok Ryu.

“Biryu spends nights entwined with those his lord designates, only to behead them the next day. Cruel yet tragic.”

It felt like a warning to Seok Ryu and Yejun to snap out of their dreams. Seok Ryu had recently watched all of Yejun’s films. He wasn’t as bad as people thought. With the right support, he could unleash his latent potential.

“I wish you’d at least judge Yejun after an audition. He read The Lake of the Gods deeply and understands Biryu well.”

“Then your friend should know he’s not suited for Biryu.”

Cha Yilhyun drove the point home with a languid tone.

“He’d never pull it off.”

The heat he exuded briefly parched Seok Ryu’s mouth. Cha Yilhyun had opposed Yejun from the contract with Director Kwak to the Biryu recommendation. If his opposition wasn’t about Yejun but about checking the second-in-command, Director Kwak, then wasn’t an innocent person being sacrificed?

“Is your opposition to Yejun because of Director Kwak?”

Cha Yilhyun wrinkled his nose.

“Everyone acknowledges Kwak’s role in making Songhyul what it is today. And we’re close.”

“Then why…”

“You assume your friend’s flawless and look for causes elsewhere.”

His unexpected words froze Seok Ryu.

“You should worry about yourself before your friend.”

“Why… Is something wrong with me?”

“Staff evaluations of you are terrible. At this rate, you won’t last the probation period.”

When someone with ill feelings toward Yejun became a devotee, those feelings redirected to Seok Ryu, naturally leading to poor evaluations. A chill suddenly clawed at his nape. Opening his hand, he stared blankly at the candy he’d been clutching.

He finally understood the persistent unease. The only fate for a trainee who caused a major incident was clear, but he’d been blinded by the candy Cha Yilhyun offered. Lifting his gaze, Seok Ryu looked at him.

“Should I prepare myself?”

Refracted light shimmered on Cha Yilhyun’s nose and lips.

“Didn’t you already do that coming here?”

His eyes, briefly holding the light, suddenly felt scorching. But by the time Seok Ryu grasped the heat’s meaning, it had cooled.

What would become of him and Yejun? Both were on the brink of being axed by the CEO, and Yoon Inoh was hell-bent on burying Yejun. A hollow laugh escaped. If Cha Yilhyun were even slightly less kind, Seok Ryu wouldn’t feel this desolate.

“Do you always treat everyone this well?”

Cha Yilhyun countered, “Why do you avoid me? I’m this nice to you.”

Because it was never his to begin with. The day Cha Yilhyun became Yejun’s, everything would slip away, so there was no reason to be moved or shaken by each gesture.

Seok Ryu gripped the candy in his hand. Even if he turned millions into his master’s devotees, a guardian stone that couldn’t offer the most vital treasure was useless. A useless stone had only one fate. He had to confront Cha Yilhyun head-on.

This time, no matter if the heavens collapsed, he vowed not to look away from those eyes. Lifting his head, Seok Ryu focused on Cha Yilhyun’s gaze.

City lights, like colored gems, sparkled beyond Cha Yilhyun’s shoulder. Within them, a man with glassy eyes sat, boldly ensnaring Seok Ryu’s stare. It was a gaze that shattered hearts, pierced like nails, and pinned him in place.

Seok Ryu gasped, finally closing his eyes. Being with this man felt like his heart would break. His body kept trembling. Staying longer might collapse his mind. Biting his convulsing lips, he forced deep breaths. As he lifted his head to meet Cha Yilhyun’s eyes again, his body swayed, and his memory flickered out. A sensation covering his lips snapped him back. The black eyes filling his vision and Cha Yilhyun’s hair spilling onto Seok Ryu’s cheeks felt unreal.

Through their entangled tongues, Cha Yilhyun exhaled a warm sigh. His wet lips pulled back briefly. Seok Ryu stared, as if slapped. Cha Yilhyun’s eyes, losing their usual shape, contorted.

“You’ve been tempting me all along, Seok Ryu.”

He devoured Seok Ryu’s lips again. The wet flesh, with blatant intent, filled Seok Ryu’s mouth. Only then did Seok Ryu, startled, push Cha Yilhyun’s shoulders. The candy in his hand fell, rolling away. Cha Yilhyun grabbed Seok Ryu’s hand, frantically sucking his lips. In the struggle, the chair rolled, crashing into the glass window. Beneath the vertiginous cityscape, they tangled as if plummeting. Seok Ryu flailed, clutching Cha Yilhyun’s back.

Cha Yilhyun held Seok Ryu’s head with one hand, sweeping back his bangs with the other, pressing his forehead. As Seok Ryu’s face tilted back, his lips and throat opened fully. Cha Yilhyun’s tongue scooped up the moans pooling in Seok Ryu’s throat, thrusting sharply. Seok Ryu swallowed his tongue and saliva, breathing tightly. Every sensation crashed and coiled vividly, as if real. Moans escaped uncontrollably.

“Mm… Ngh…”

Cha Yilhyun placed one knee on the chair, lifting Seok Ryu’s leg onto his thigh. His hardened core rubbed against Seok Ryu’s tailbone. The chair creaked under the raw, unrefined movements. Cha Yilhyun’s moans, short and sharp, pierced Seok Ryu’s eardrums. Frustrated by the barrier of fabric, his smooth forehead furrowed.

“Ha, haa…”

His impatient hands yanked up Seok Ryu’s shirt in one motion. As Seok Ryu’s torso was exposed, Cha Yilhyun lowered his head, taking a nipple between his lips. His broad tongue crushed and teased the small bud. Seok Ryu bit his lips until they nearly tore, pushing him away.

“Ngh! Haa… Stop, st—”

The sinking leather chair seemed to pull his mind under. Seok Ryu panted, lips slick with saliva, as Cha Yilhyun’s tongue and hips relentlessly unraveled him. His slippery tongue traced Seok Ryu’s neck and choker strap deeply. The garnet origin stone on the choker vanished into Cha Yilhyun’s mouth. It felt like molten glass sprayed into Seok Ryu’s eyes. His hoarse voice dripped with urgency.

“Lobby me too.”