DHG Ch 32

It’s probably nothing.

Taking as deep a breath as he could, Heewoo slowly approached the door. Just in case, he engaged the deadbolt before opening it.

The dark, narrow gap widened, and a chilly draft seeped in, touching the top of his bare feet. He thought he saw something move slightly in the vertical darkness.

…Hello? Heewoo curled his toes and called out again. His voice echoed in the empty hallway. Just then,

“Open the door.”

A low, quiet voice responded from the darkness. The instant he heard the all-too-familiar voice, Heewoo realized he hadn’t fully grasped Jang Seungyung’s visiting patterns.

6:00 a.m.

The man stood there, at the cusp of the old year and the dawn of the new. A vague outline was visible in the darkness his eyes were starting to adjust to.

“You should let me in.”

A strangely soft voice.

Heewoo, suppressing the urge to rush, forced himself to act calmly. He closed the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it a crack again. A gloved hand suddenly shot out from the darkness, grabbing the doorframe as if lying in wait.

Then, Heewoo met a pair of intense eyes through the gap.

“…….”

He almost instinctively pulled the doorknob closed. He would have, if the door hadn’t suddenly become stuck, as if lodged against a rock.

Jang Seungyung was holding the door open, refusing to let it close even an inch. In that tense standoff, Heewoo noticed something he hadn’t before.

The strong smell of alcohol.

Eyes much darker and glossier than usual.

This person is drunk.

It was the first time he’d seen the man drunk. Alcohol changes people. A sudden sense of danger sent a shiver down his spine, like a cold sweat.

Jang Seungyung narrowed his alcohol-hazed eyes, fixated on Kwon Heewoo, whom he couldn’t find no matter where he looked.

“You’re alive and well, not frozen to death somewhere. Huh?”

“…….”

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

He’d been dragged around to endless business entertainment obligations by Chairman Jang and had only just managed to make time for Benny. Of course, he could have handled those obligations at Benny, combining business with pleasure, but Jang Seungyung had refrained.

‘How’s the new place Jang Executive Director took over? How’s business?’

The nosy old geezers of Taegang, Korea’s number one conglomerate, had shown interest, following their whims, but Jang Seungyung had consistently refused, claiming the place wasn’t up to par.

‘You know it’s secondhand. It has a lot of issues because of the previous owner.’

Even though he could take the old men to Benny and see Kwon Heewoo as much as he wanted, he didn’t feel like it. Besides, he loathed the idea of bringing those incredibly vulgar people to his establishment, even if it was only temporary.

Anyway, this is the last year I have to deal with those damn Taegang geezers.

Seungyung twisted his alcohol-loosened lips into a smile and reached out to Kwon Heewoo, whom he’d finally found. He pushed open the bothersome front door and stepped into Heewoo’s small space, which he’d only glimpsed once before.

“I was genuinely worried, thinking you might have been snatched away somewhere in this dangerous world…”

Heewoo stumbled backward. His back hit the wall, and he looked up at the man who loomed over him, a dark shadow blocking out the light, knowing he couldn’t escape the approaching threat.

“Were you back in your room?”

Jang Seungyung asked, a wide smile on his face. But the smile, amplified by the alcohol, was more revealing than usual, almost like a predator baring its teeth.

His gleaming eyes, full of interest, remained fixed on Heewoo, unwavering. It was a gaze difficult to meet. He quickly looked down and saw the man removing his gloves. The shiny black leather peeled off with a soft rustling sound.

The gloves fell to the floor. At the same time, thick arms, concealed within the folds of his coat, reached out, trapping Heewoo.

“Damn, already all fresh and clean…”

Jang Seungyung said, sounding amused. His eyes scanned Kwon Heewoo again. The younger man was wearing a long, damp T-shirt. Beneath that rag-like piece of clothing, a clean, fresh scent, like someone who had just showered, wafted up.

“Did you wash up just for me to touch you?”

He instinctively reached out. In that instant, Heewoo’s lips parted in a gasp.

“Ah…!”

He felt a large hand grip his waist. He almost cried out in pain.

Strong hands kneaded and squeezed him roughly and indiscriminately—his neck, shoulders, forearms, chest, waist. He felt like he was going to scream. He couldn’t think straight. He was particularly vulnerable to forceful touches. Fear surged within him, overflowing like a river breaching its banks.

“Uh…!”

His chin was roughly grasped by the hand that had been freely roaming his body. As the man’s face drew closer, as if to kiss him, Heewoo’s mind went blank. He instinctively struggled, and in that moment, his hand slapped the man’s cheek.

Slap.

The sound of flesh against flesh resonated clearly between them.

Heewoo’s eyes widened.

“……!”

His hand trembled. He had hit the man.

Even though he’d heard the man could be unexpectedly kind when sober, he’d just slapped a drunken thug who was unpredictable in his inebriated state.

“…Hmm.”

Jang Seungyung let out a short sound.

The glint in his eyes, reflecting the dim light, slowly lifted.

He’d instinctively recoiled, causing the slap to land off-center, but his aggressive instincts, honed in countless fights, kicked in even while drunk. Jang Seungyung immediately located his attacker.

A look that could kill.

Heewoo squeezed his eyes shut and raised his hands defensively. He wouldn’t have been surprised if a fist came flying at him in that moment.

“…….”

A moment later, Heewoo’s tightly closed, trembling eyelids hesitantly fluttered open. He gasped.

He would have been less shocked if Jang Seungyung had hit him. He stared, dumbfounded, as Jang Seungyung kissed his palm.

The feeling of the man’s high nose bridge, his breath, his soft lips against his palms, which he’d raised in self-defense, felt surreal. His fingertips tingled where the man’s thick eyebrows brushed against them.

“What?”

Jang Seungyung murmured.

“Are you surprised you slapped a cheap thug like me?”

His soft lips grazed his palm, spreading warm breath across it. Heewoo blinked a couple of times. Relief rippled outwards from the point of contact, slowly melting away his fear.

“Ah… a scaredy-cat.”

The man taunted, his eyes crinkling as he gently caressed Heewoo’s chest with his large hand. As if comforting his racing heart, he covered it with his palm and stroked it soothingly.

After a brief flinch at the ticklish sensation, Heewoo slowly raised his hands in return.

He gently stroked Jang Seungyung’s smooth skin. His fingers traced his handsome eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, and then cupped his sleek cheeks. He finally relaxed after checking his rough chin, shadowed with stubble.

Thank goodness.

He thought he’d hit his face, but there were no injuries.

“Hmm.”

Jang Seungyung, who’d been passively offering his face to Kwon Heewoo’s touch, let out a soft groan. He gazed intently at the other man, who was cautiously caressing his face.

Even though he was much stronger and larger than Heewoo, the younger man’s actions—carefully examining his face with his fingertips as if touching a baby’s cheek—were both absurd and strangely endearing.

Unable to tear his gaze away from Heewoo’s movements, Jang Seungyung chuckled. He realized that Kwon Heewoo was both worried about him and afraid of him.

He recalled the moment he’d freely touched Heewoo’s soft body. Unlike these gentle, careful strokes, he’d been greedy and rough, so it was understandable that Heewoo had been scared.

He suppressed the urge to grab that soft skin again. He was still slightly drunk, and he judged that it was time to retreat. Just then, the hand that had been gently stroking his cheek moved downwards. Kwon Heewoo lightly took his hand.

“…….”

Heewoo gently enclosed Jang Seungyung’s hand within his own.

Perhaps it was because it was New Year’s Eve and the start of a new year, but he suddenly felt a strong urge to warm those hands. They were ice-cold, as if he’d truly been searching for him as he’d claimed.

The man was always sensitive to the cold. He resisted the urge to tuck those large hands inside his clothes to warm them and instead gently massaged them, melting the stiff, cool fingers with his own body heat. He felt the warmth spreading quickly.

Just then, a strong scent of alcohol wafted to his nose.

He quickly turned his head away as soft lips grazed his cheek and then his cheekbone. The man leaned in again, and Heewoo dodged again. They almost kissed.

“…Why…?”

Are you trying to kiss me?

He swallowed the question that almost escaped his lips and pressed the back of his head against the wall. He lifted his wavering gaze, and their eyes met.

The man said nothing. He simply stared with an intense gaze that seemed to leave its mark. That heavy gaze traveled from Heewoo’s tightly pursed lips, down his throat, and to his rapidly rising and falling chest.