TBM Vol 1 Part 10

Though surprised by the timing, Il-seo quickly snapped back into character, looking at him with rebellious eyes, fully absorbed in his role as Haru. As he prepared to recite his lines, the sofa sank beneath their weight, and unexpectedly, their lips overlapped in a sudden, slanted kiss. Il-seo’s eyes widened in shock.

‘There isn’t a kiss scene after this!’

There should have been an argument, the guitar breaking, the slap—it all got skipped over, replaced by a sudden kiss that took Il-seo completely by surprise.

Il-seo’s hand instinctively pressed against Seung-yeon’s shoulder, but a hot tongue slipped into his parted lips, the sharp scent of alcohol hitting him hard.

“Ugh, hmph.”

Seung-yeon’s hand firmly cupped his cheek as Il-seo’s breathing grew ragged with embarrassment. This wasn’t a kiss Haru would ever give. If they were on an actual set, the director would have called, “Cut.” But Seung-yeon didn’t pull away, deepening the kiss instead. He sucked on and caressed Il-seo’s tongue, the slurping sound was heard unmistakably.

Jang Tae-hyun was rough, but was he this messy? Confused, Il-seo tried to push Seung-yeon away, but Seung-yeon pressed even closer. The overwhelming smell of alcohol mixed with his breath. Il-seo tried turning his head, but Seung-yeon’s grip on his face was too strong.

It became impossible to tell how much was acting and how much was real. He felt like he’d be reprimanded for not staying focused if he kept resisting, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that this kiss was not in the script.

“Ugh, hmph.”

Before he could think clearly, Seung-yeon’s tongue slid smoothly across the roof and inner walls of his mouth. Il-seo’s stomach tightened, and his thighs clenched. Once the thought crossed his mind that this might not be acting, his body instantly heated up.

Il-seo’s blurry eyes closed as his body trembled slightly with excitement. The last thread of his rational mind snapped.

His red tongue tangled with Seung-yeon’s, and the hand that had been pushing against his shoulder now gripped his arm tightly. The lewd sounds of their kissing, interspersed with intimate sighing, filled the room. Il-seo, gathering courage, kissed Seung-yeon back, pushing his tongue into his mouth.

The kiss grew more intense as Il-seo, who had been passive, leaned into it. Despite having kissed each other multiple times on set, this felt different. Il-seo’s face burned with the realization that this wasn’t a kiss between Haru and Tae-hyun; this was him kissing Sa Seung-yeon, the person he had admired for so long.

Every time Seung-yeon’s tongue flicked a sensitive spot inside his mouth, Il-seo’s waist jerked reflexively, and Seung-yeon’s hand clamped down tightly on his waist as if to steady him. The grip was so firm it seemed like it would leave marks.

The taste of blood from his lips, from the reopened wound, mixed with the potent scent of alcohol and Seung-yeon’s heavy body scent as their bodies pressed closer together, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind.

“Phew…”

“Haa…”

Just then, Seung-yeon’s tongue slipped out, and his wet lips planted soft, pressing kisses—on the centre of his mouth, to the side, and again. Every time his lips touched, Il-seo’s body flinched, as though his erogenous zones were being stimulated.

“Ah…”

Seung-yeon’s lips brushed along the corner of his mouth, pressing against his jawline, before settling on his neck. As he inhaled deeply, his lips against his skin, the scent of ripened fruit seemed particularly strong along the curve of his neck.

That familiar scent…

‘Lee Il-seo…’

Yes, this was Lee Il-seo. Seung-yeon’s gaze wavered for a moment, remembering the subtle scent Il-seo left behind whenever he passed him. But as his eyes settled on his pale, soft neck, his thoughts grew hazy again.

The room was already thick with pheromones that Seung-yeon hadn’t intended to release. Lee Il-seo, oblivious to everything, panted softly beneath him.

With a faint smile, he parted his lips and sucked on his neck, leaving a red mark.

“Ah, ugh!”

A nasal moan escaped his lips. Startled, Il-seo arched his neck. His long, thin fingers couldn’t grip Seung-yeon’s head; they wandered helplessly before finally settling on his shoulders. Seung-yeon’s eyes darkened with hunger and greedily licked the tender spot on his neck.

“Ugh…”

What started as a gentle lick soon escalated, Seung-yeon’s teeth sinking into his flesh as he sucked hard on the reddened area. The sound of his lips and tongue echoed, loud and wet in the otherwise quiet room. The spot where he bit burned hot, as though it had been branded.

“Ugh, ugh.”

Il-seo closed his eyes, breathing raggedly as Seung-yeon’s lips and tongue continued their ministrations. His neck, raw from the rough treatment, pulsed painfully, every throb sending a sharp pain spreading beneath his skin.

Tears welled up in his eyes. Il-seo hadn’t even realized it until he blinked and felt the wetness of his eyelashes sticking together.

“It hurts… it hurts.”

“…”

“S-Sunbae… it hurts.”

His voice, thin and cracked, trembled out. Seung-yeon, who had been burying his face in his neck like he was savouring honey, slowly opened his eyes. He heard Il-seo’s mewls of pain.

He finally let go of his neck, removing his hand. Il-seo flinched, covering the damaged area with his hand, his carotid artery pulsing with sharp pain. He gasped for breath, eyes wide and shaking as they met Seung-yeon’s.

Seeing the tremor in Il-seo’s gaze and the red, swollen flesh peeking from beneath his fingers, Seung-yeon’s realization hit. He was stunned by what he had done. He had left a mark—he had been too rough, biting too deep.

“Oh… I’m sorry. Are you bleeding?”

“I-I’m fine,” Il-seo stammered, but when Seung-yeon reached out, he flinched away, retreating as far as he could. His eyes, trembling with shock, avoided looking at him. His face was flushed with shame and confusion, the kiss and bite far more than he could comprehend.

“More than that… we argued… then slapped each other… then—”

Il-seo couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Seung-yeon, seeing his flustered state, nervously nodded. He knew what he meant. There wasn’t supposed to be a kiss in this part. So why did he kiss him?

Seung-yeon frowned, and Il-seo, still shaken, didn’t notice the brief flicker of emotion that passed through his dark eyes.

“It’s frustrating,” he muttered to himself.

He didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want Il-seo to misunderstand, but he didn’t have the energy to offer any clarification. Maybe it was because Il-seo had performed better than he expected, or maybe it was the alcohol clouding his mind. Either way, the situation had spiralled out of control.

He wasn’t himself. Not really.

“Mistake,” he finally said, the single word landing heavily between them.

Il-seo’s eyes widened, trembling slightly at the two-syllable response. Seung-yeon stood, his expression smooth and unreadable, as though he had drawn it on his face.

“I was drunk and didn’t fully understand the script. I thought it was a kiss scene.”

“Ah.”

Il-seo blinked, his large eyes flickering with an emotion he couldn’t place. He was trying to make sense of it all.

Seung-yeon waited calmly, his face a perfect mask of tranquillity. Il-seo slowly lowered the hand covering his neck, wiping away the blood that had dried on his lips. His soft voice cut through the silence.

“It wasn’t your mistake… It was my mistake.”

He continued, his words being slow and deliberate.

“Ah… I was worried because I panicked too much. I thought I’d get in trouble.”

Seung-yeon watched as Il-seo fidgeted with his fingernails, the tension still hanging in the air.

*****

“It was your mistake, sunbae… Thank goodness.”

He lifted the corner of his mouth, looking somewhat relieved. The blush from the kiss had faded, leaving his face pale, but calm. Seung-yeon’s eyes widened briefly before returning to their normal size. He patted Il-seo’s shoulder a couple of times in reassurance, a signal for him to relax. The situation unfolded smoother than expected.

“Did I go overboard with the kiss?”

“Oh, no.”

“I can’t practice while I’m this drunk. I’ll wash up and be back, so Il-seo…”

Seung-yeon trailed off, walked over to the drawer in the living room, and retrieved ointment and cotton swabs, handing them over.

“There’s a mirror over there. Apply this to your lips and neck.”

“… Oh. I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me grief for worrying about the injuries. I have messed up an actor’s body.”

Forcing a smile, Seung-yeon apologized again before leaving the living room. Striding quickly, he peeled off his clothes as he passed the bedroom and stepped into the shower, turning the lever to cold water.

Under the icy spray, Seung-yeon stood still, letting the cold water clear his cloudy thoughts. The chill sobered him up, cooling both the alcohol in his system and the irritation creeping into his ink-dark eyes.

“Ha…”

He knew he would have to keep someone close, someone he hadn’t seen for long. His jaw tightened, casting a shadow over his face.

The company dinner after the stage greetings had dragged on. Those around him knew his drinking limit, yet the table was loaded with strong liquor. Usually, Seung-yeon knew his boundaries, but tonight was different. With so many familiar faces—seniors and staff he’d known for years—refusing drinks was nearly impossible. Eventually, he drank just enough to push him over the edge. And when he crossed that line, two urges usually hit harder than usual: cigarettes and sex.

He had lit a cigarette and called Gu Dong-young to check if the bar had any empty seats. That’s when he found a message he had forgotten to reply to.

“Can I head home before the next shoot?”

Seeing the unsaved number, he impulsively pressed the call button. Lee Il-seo answered, so he asked him to come over right away. And in his tipsy state, he got in the car without thinking. It was an impulsive mistake.

Even if he’d gone with anyone else, it would have been better to shake off his drunkenness or satisfy his other cravings.

Thankfully, Il-seo had been surprisingly calm and quick to read the situation. Maybe his focus on practising had clouded his judgment, but he didn’t seem upset about his split lips or bruised throat.

Remembering his composed expression, Seung-yeon suddenly burst into laughter. It was oddly impressive. He had even managed a faint smile while sporting hickeys. In that brief moment, Seung-yeon could finally understand Jang Tae-hyun’s frustration—how meaningless everything felt, no matter how much control you thought you had over your own body. ‘I’d be grateful if he stayed cool about it.’

Seung-yeon turned off the shower. 

Knock, knock…

The dripping sound echoed from the stall. Perhaps Il-seo was used to such situations, accepting his excuse that it was just a mistake. There was still plenty of work ahead, and it would be a huge hassle if things got awkward between them. Either way, Seung-yeon didn’t care to repeat the same mistake.

Meanwhile, Il-seo stood in front of the hallway mirror, shuddering at his reflection. His lips were more torn than they had been during the bed scene, and his neck… well, it was a mess of red marks and tiny blood droplets. He applied the ointment gingerly, wincing as it stung.

“For a mistake… this is a bit too much.”

The pain was more than he’d expected, and now he understood why Seung-yeon had apologized twice. As he applied the ointment, he thought back to the bizarre moment.

Without fully grasping why Seung-yeon had kissed him, Il-seo had played along, assuming it was for practice. But when he said it was a mistake, he’d felt like jumping out the window. The kiss had been intense—his tongue had slipped in first, and he had moaned. Not exactly the kind of kiss you could attribute to a simple acting rehearsal.

Still, Seung-yeon had smiled as though it was nothing. And with that smile, all of Il-seo’s worries and embarrassment evaporated. He even apologized and gave him ointment, which made it easier to brush off the whole incident. Besides, wounds heal with time. Part of Il-seo wished it could last a little longer… He shook his head to clear the thought, finishing the ointment application. The raw skin stung again as he carefully dabbed it.

Looking for a place to toss the cotton swab, Il-seo froze when he opened the trash can. Inside, he spotted a familiar black box—the box of chocolates he had gifted Seung-yeon during their last shoot. The contents had spilled into the trash, untouched.

‘Guess he didn’t like them…’

With a heavy heart, he threw away the swab, feeling a twinge of embarrassment over the unwanted gift. Il-seo wandered back into the living room but avoided the sofa where the kiss had happened. The place was so large that it took time just to take it all in. He admired the paintings on the walls, the large shelves filled with objects, and slowly started to piece together Seung-yeon’s tastes.

He never imagined he’d have a day like this. His eyes brightened as he scanned the room, his attention drawn to the soundbar.

“Wow.”

It was a high-end foreign brand, the kind you’d need for a house of this size. He resisted the urge to touch it, but his eyes wandered to a nearby shelf where albums were stored.

“… It’s the same.”

His cheeks reddened. To his surprise, their taste in music was remarkably similar. There were even a few obscure albums he cherished. Maybe, one day, they could talk about music. His gaze landed on a silver USB plugged into the soundbar.

It was common for people to play music on streaming apps, but if Seung-yeon was listening to files from a USB, they might be rare songs. Curiosity piqued, Il-seo knelt.

“…”

Seung-yeon’s face stiffened as he re-entered the living room in more comfortable clothes. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Il-seo, who was now fiddling with the USB. His mood darkened instantly.

“I never said you could touch my things.”

His sharp voice made Il-seo drop his hand and scramble to his feet. Seeing him standing there, hands in his pockets, he quickly lowered his head.

“I’m sorry.”

His dark eyes briefly flickered over his slippered feet and messy hair.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something.”

His voice was suddenly icy. Seung-yeon’s expression turned fierce, his tone betraying the emotions he’d been holding back.

“I’m giving you acting lessons because you need improvement. That doesn’t mean you can overstep.”

His words, sharp and unadorned, fell heavily between them. Seung-yeon was about to continue his scolding, but he paused, noticing the slight tremor in Il-seo’s hands. After a moment’s hesitation, he spoke again, his voice harsh but restrained.

“Let’s call it a night.”

“…”

“Neither of us is in the right state for this right now.”

He moved towards his bag near the sofa. Il-seo looked up, as if to say something, but only managed to breathe out shakily. His face blank, he grabbed his bag and bowed deeply once more.

“I’m sorry…”

His voice cracked, his apology barely escaping his lips. Without another word, he hurried down the hallway.

As the front door closed, Seung-yeon tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. A string of curses escaped his lips, the frustration inside him was too tangled to articulate.