DAH Ch 15
by soapaMumbling an excuse, Jungjoon hurriedly shoved some side dishes into his mouth. He stared down at his rice bowl in silence, hoping the gazes fixed on him would soon disperse. The attention momentarily directed at him quickly faded, but in that short time, his back had become drenched with sweat.
The meal continued to be an ordeal. From the moment he emerged after enduring a series of acts that induced nausea and cold sweats, Jungjoon had been on edge, feeling as though he were sitting on a bed of thorns.
It was hard to look Ian straight in the eye. On top of that, he found himself unconsciously gauging Sungha’s reactions. Had she heard something? Had she figured it out? He occasionally scrutinized her expression with suspicion, but he was too drained to discern anything meaningful.
The lingering sensation of foreignness still haunted an unspeakable part of him. The feeling of fingers being forced in and rubbing against him hadn’t faded, continuing to torment Jungjoon.
Amid the chatter between Yoonhae, Sungha, and Ian, Jungjoon quietly chewed his rice, each grain feeling like sand. The seemingly intimate dynamic between Yoonhae and Sungha struck him as oddly peculiar again. If they weren’t lovers, what were they? The question nagged at him, though it was clear they’d known each other for a while and were quite close.
Why had Yoonhae asked for her help? The term “accomplice” kept nagging at him. Had he told her the truth as it was? If so, how much had he revealed? The uncertainty gnawed at him.
He wondered if she’d come today fully aware. Could she really smile like that, knowing she was being used for such a base purpose?
“……”
Whether he knew or didn’t know, it was all equally uncomfortable. Still, if possible, he wanted to remain ignorant until the end. About his relationship with Yoonhae. About the past. And, most crucially, about the secret acts that had taken place in that room today—he didn’t want any of it exposed.
If Sungha was pretending not to know despite being aware, if she could act so nonchalant despite knowing, Jungjoon felt he’d once again fall into disillusionment about humanity.
While Sungha stayed, Jungjoon couldn’t escape his restlessness. He couldn’t focus on anything, either breaking out in cold sweats alone or staring blankly, lost in thought. A loud noise would make him flinch and turn toward the sound, reacting like someone with a nervous condition.
In truth, it was an inescapably uncomfortable and bizarre coexistence. None of the four people gathered could define their relationships with one another. The flow of past and present had veered so far from common sense that it birthed an ambiguity that defied explanation. Within that ambiguity, there was a noisy yet somehow silent atmosphere, natural yet strangely unnatural.
“Hey, look at that kid who just came on. Doesn’t he look like Bae Sang-jin? The slit eyes, thick nose, and jawline are kinda similar, right? Ugh, it’s been a while since I last saw a face like that, and it’s ruining my mood.”
“Watch your language in front of the kid.”
“Oh, right. Ian, sorry— Pretend you didn’t hear what I just said, okay? Our pretty Ian should only hear nice words and grow up to be a great adult, got it—?”
In the living room with the TV on, no one seemed to care about Jungjoon’s isolation. Just like the times they’d acted like a couple and sidelined him. They laughed and chatted about shallow, trivial topics, content in their own little world.
“Oh, what? It’s already this late? I should get going.”
It was past 9 p.m. when Sungha finally stood up after saying that.
Jungjoon, who’d been at the edge of the kitchen table, rubbed his tired facial muscles and stood as well. Honestly, unable to focus on anything, he was genuinely relieved by her announcement of departure.
“Wait, wait, I need the bathroom!”
Sungha bustled down the hallway toward the guest bathroom. Following her, Yoonhae’s imposing silhouette came to a halt as well. Having come out as if to see her off, Yoonhae rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance before turning around without warning.
“……”
In the dim hallway, their eyes met. A strange gaze, as if he had something to say, settled on Jungjoon. After staring silently, he squeezed Jungjoon’s shoulder once, then scooped up a sleepy, whining Ian and headed inside.
Shortly after, Sungha emerged from the bathroom, yawning loudly and heading to the entrance without a care for Yoonhae’s absence. Before stepping out to the shoe rack, she turned to Jungjoon with a subtle smile.
“Oppa, you don’t have to be so on edge.”
“…Huh?”
Sungha nudged Jungjoon with her elbow.
“It’s all mutual help.”
Mutual help. That common idiom sounded indescribably odd for the first time. As Jungjoon stared stiffly, Sungha tilted her head, her eyes glinting, and brought a hand to her mouth.
“But him… does he get it up? Or not?”
She whispered as if sharing a secret.
“He’s been famous for not being able to handle it since way back.”
Giggling as she finished, she switched to a lighter tone for her farewell.
“See you later, oppa—”
Waving, she slipped on her shoes and left with a birdlike lightness.
“……”
Jungjoon stood rooted before the closed door for a while.
Returning inside, he heard Yoonhae drying Ian’s hair from the bedroom. Once again taking over Jungjoon’s role, he seemed to be washing and preparing Ian for bed.
In the past, he might’ve felt a bit grateful…
But after realizing it wasn’t pure affection but mere preparation to satisfy his desires, every attentive gesture and kind word only stirred disgust.
Jungjoon dragged his weary body to the sofa. Staring blankly at the dark TV screen, he picked up the remote and turned it on. Loud voices and sound effects flooded the living room instantly. As his eyes followed the flickering images, his mind emptied. The fleeting thought of time stopping like this crossed his mind.
Click.
The sound of a door closing echoed behind him.
“Not coming in?”
Having put Ian to sleep, Yoonhae spoke toward Jungjoon, who sat quietly.
“…This… I want to watch this… I’ll go in after this. You go ahead.”
But Yoonhae didn’t head to the bedroom as Jungjoon suggested. Standing still for a moment, he then settled his heavy frame onto the empty spot beside him on the sofa.
Jungjoon kept his eyes fixed on the screen. He pretended not to notice the body leaning closer. But when Yoonhae’s hand slid onto his thigh and dug inward, he could no longer ignore it.
“…Let’s not do this in the living room.”
Grabbing the hand and pulling it off, Jungjoon warned.
“Then let’s go in. To our room.”
He casually called the guest room “our room.” The hand Jungjoon had removed returned like a magnet, clinging to his leg again. A rough grip kneaded Jungjoon’s thigh gently.
“I said I’d go in after this.”
“Why not watch it on your phone in there?”
It felt less like a suggestion and more like a veiled threat. Jungjoon lowered his eyes, glancing sideways. Yoonhae’s lower half, already erect and lifting his shorts, came into view. The sight drained any desire to move further.
“Just this… I’ll just watch this.”
“Hmm…” He exhaled a long breath as if deliberating. Then, surprisingly, he agreed lightly.
“Alright.”
A compromise seemed reached, and he quieted down unexpectedly. But instead of going in first, he stayed, observing Jungjoon’s every move. Propping an arm on the backrest to cradle his head, he gazed at Jungjoon’s profile as if watching TV.
A little later, his hand slid inside his pants, moving alone. From the rustling and sounds, Jungjoon realized he was masturbating.
The sound of fabric shifting, wet flesh rubbing, mixed with long sighs and heated breaths pushed Jungjoon past his limit. Turning off the TV with the remote, he stood abruptly.
“I’m going in.”
Leaving that resigned word, he headed to the wretched little room.
⟡˖ ࣪
Everything was a mess. This morning, he hadn’t heard the alarm. More precisely, he’d overslept because Yoonhae had turned it off without permission.
Rushing to get ready for work, his body ached all over. Knowing he’d be meeting clients all day, the only remedy he could manage was slapping on a pain patch.
Skipping breakfast, he emerged from a chaotic whirlwind of preparation. The one silver lining was that he could leave Ian’s breakfast and school prep to Yoonhae.
Lately, Yoonhae had taken on Ian’s care like a full-time housewife. It was hard to believe he ran a business, given how he involved himself in every detail of this household morning and night. Though Jungjoon reluctantly accepted this unsolicited help, it was bittersweet and ironic that it brought relief and assistance in such urgent moments.
“Ha…”
The morning passed driving between appointments, reeking of pain patches. Only in the late afternoon did he get a break, his empty stomach finally protesting.
He considered a convenience store but lost interest—it was tiresome. Not wanting a full meal at a restaurant either, Jungjoon’s steps led him to a nearby fast-food joint.
“Oh?”
It was when he climbed to the second floor with his ordered set meal. A short exclamation from across the room drew his gaze that way.
“……”
A man was staring straight at him. He looked to be in his mid-30s, adorned with flashy accessories around his neck and hands, dressed in extravagant clothes unfit for his age. Jungjoon was certain he didn’t know him.
When the man stood and started approaching, Jungjoon tensed reflexively.
“Aren’t you Jungjoon? Seo Jungjoon?”
Hearing his name from the man’s mouth left him stunned.
“Uh… Yes. That’s me, but, uh, who…”
“I’m Kim Taeyoung! Don’t you remember me?”
“Taeyoung… Taeyoung? Kim Taeyoung?!”
Jungjoon shot up in shock.
“Yeah, you bastard! Holy shit, this is insane! How do we meet here?!”
They embraced tightly. Letting go, Jungjoon examined his old friend’s face. At first, he hadn’t recognized him due to the changes, but up close, traces of the past lingered.
“Hey, I get why you didn’t recognize me. Your hyung got a little work done on the eyes and nose.”
Taeyoung laughed good-naturedly, waving a hand in front of his face.
“But how— Do you live around here?!”
“No, not really. I was just here for a quick client meeting…”
“Oh, right, you totally look like a salaried office worker.”
Man, you live and learn. This is unreal… Taeyoung shook his head, sitting across from Jungjoon.
“You can tell what I do just by looking, right? I’m in the clothing business. Started with a secondhand shop, and it did better than expected. Now I’m running about three stores here and there.”
Impressive… Jungjoon’s eyes widened in admiration.
“But you, man, you still look sharp. No belly, well-maintained?”
“Nah… I’ve aged too…”
“Married, right? You give off that vibe.”
“Oh, yeah… I’ve got a son.”
“Wow— A son and a success story.”
Taeyoung smiled shyly, saying he’d recently married and was still in the honeymoon phase. When Jungjoon congratulated him, he pulled out his phone, showing off wedding photos and pictures of his wife.
“My wife’s pretty, right? Five years younger than me.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Exactly! When did you get married? How old’s your kid?”
Answering various questions, Jungjoon took out his phone to show Ian’s picture.
“He’s a spitting image of his mom. Doesn’t look like you at all.”
“…Yeah, he takes after her.”
“Have another. Put in the effort for at least two.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice…”
Lowering his eyes, Jungjoon smiled vaguely. As always when hiding a truth, half-lies piled up.
Still, as the conversation flowed, Jungjoon felt genuine joy rather than unease. Pretending—however superficially—that his wife was alive and that there were no issues with Ian wasn’t unpleasant. As they dug into old stories, the past slowly rekindled. He felt like he’d returned to being the ordinary head of a normal family.
“Should we move spots? You got time?”
Jungjoon checked his phone calendar. Luckily, he had plenty of free time left and agreed readily.
They relocated to a nearby large café. Ordering drinks and settling into a corner sofa, Taeyoung laughed as if he couldn’t believe the situation.
“How do we meet there? I saw you come up, and your face was so familiar, but I couldn’t place it right away. For a second, I thought you were a celebrity.”
“Lame…”
“Hey, whatever, meeting like this again feels so good. I was worried about you, but seeing you doing well puts me at ease.”
“You too… Seeing you living happily is nice.”
With a faint smile, Jungjoon sipped his coffee. Hesitantly fiddling with the cup’s surface, he cautiously brought up something he’d held onto for years.
“Back then… I felt bad for leaving so suddenly without saying goodbye… Anyway, I’m sorry. Thanks for worrying about me.”
He’d always felt guilty for disappearing without a word to the friends he’d been close to. Yoonhae’s obsession had made it impossible to stay as close, but they’d been like family, sharing meals and hardships under one roof.
“Hey… I get it. The orphanage was a mess back then because of the director. You left a year before you were supposed to—who could blame you? The kids all figured you had your reasons and respected it. They thought it was amazing you held out that long.”
Ugh, that psycho Lee Yoonhae, seriously… Worse than Misery… Taeyoung rubbed his arms as if chilled.
“You haven’t heard from him or anything since, right?”
Suddenly serious, Taeyoung leaned in, his voice and expression stiff with something menacing.
“…No.”
Jungjoon chose to lie again. Phew… Taeyoung let out a long sigh, as if relieved.
“Good. Man, be careful. Really careful. If you can, change your name. I got my face done and changed mine too. Ten years ago, I went off the grid to stay out of that bastard’s sight.”
“……”
Before Jungjoon could ask why he’d gone that far, he understood. He pictured Yoonhae relentlessly contacting Taeyoung, one of his closest friends, to track him down.
“It’s been almost 20 years—do you think he’s still looking for you? That crazy psycho?”
“…… …Who knows.”
He’s in my house right now. Grown into a disgustingly huge adult man, still clinging to me like back then, refusing to let go. And every night, demanding things worse than before—things no human should ask of another. Holding my child, my home, my everything hostage.
Fingering the condensation on his glass, Jungjoon swallowed words he could never say aloud.
“Ugh, so damn creepy… That bastard should’ve rotted in prison forever instead of getting out…”
An unexpected word caught his ear. Jungjoon’s brow furrowed as he looked up.
“…What do you mean by that?”
⟡˖ ࣪
After a long drive, stepping out of the car on the way home, accumulated fatigue pressed down on his back like the weight of another person. The unshakable exhaustion and tangled thoughts in his head. How he’d managed work and dealt with people all day was a mystery even to himself—nothing stuck in his memory.
“……”
Inside the elevator, he checked his phone—still silent. No new messages or calls had come through. The quiet felt ominous, partly due to his own unusual actions.
“Ian doesn’t need to be picked up today. He’s sleeping over at his grandma’s.”
The message he’d sent earlier lingered on the screen, but that was it. Despite the read receipt, hours had passed with no reply, confirming it was deliberate ignoring.
“Phew…”
Feeling stifled, Jungjoon loosened his choking tie. The unease clogging his chest didn’t lift even as he stepped out of the elevator and unlocked the door.
The moment he opened it and stepped inside, the acrid smell of smoke wrinkled his nose.
“……”
A pair of black dress shoes sat at the entryway. A size or two larger than Jungjoon’s, they were straight-tip shoes suited for a suit. Staring briefly at the luxurious leather and design—laughably superior to the mid-to-low-end carryover brands he wore—Jungjoon turned his gaze and stepped further in.
Passing the hallway into the living room, the cigarette smell grew stronger. Unlike usual, the living room was childless. Yoonhae’s massive back, clad in a black shirt and slacks, dominated the space. Silently smoking while overlooking the night view, his broad shoulders and quiet movements held Jungjoon’s gaze captive.
He continued to ignore Jungjoon. As if the sound of someone entering didn’t register, he remained indifferent and composed.
“I didn’t kill him… but I almost did. Anyone could see it was intent to kill.”
A voice from hours ago replayed in his mind like a recording. Feeling his throat tighten, Jungjoon struggled to part his dry lips.
“…Yoonhae.”
“Attempted murder, and he’s out in a year? This country’s laws are rotten. If you swing a knife, shouldn’t you be locked up for life, no matter how young you are?”
“……”
His heart pounded audibly. Watching Yoonhae blatantly smoke inside the house—an unprecedented oddity—his racing pulse intensified.
“…Ian’s not here today, so why not just rest at home… If you’re going to smoke, at least open a window…”
Muttering a gentle rebuke, Jungjoon walked to the opposite side and opened the window. Fresh air flowed in, offering a faint reprieve.
“Dinner… Did you eat?”
“……”
“No word from you, so I thought you weren’t coming today… I ate before coming home. If you haven’t, should I…?”
Turning mid-sentence, Jungjoon flinched and stepped back.
“You’re late.”
The man who’d been by the window moments ago was now right in front of him.
“…Yeah. Work ran late.”
His heart beat rapidly, unsteady. But with an expression betraying no physical change, Jungjoon tilted his head downward. His lowered gaze caught the cigarette between Yoonhae’s knobby fingers. Ash was falling to the floor.
“…Uh… the ash…”
Jungjoon couldn’t finish. Yoonhae raised the cigarette again, sucking until his cheeks hollowed, stopping him.
“Where were you?”
Ash continued to scatter to the floor.
“…Nowhere. Just straight from work…”
Despite already answering it was for work, the questioning persisted like an interrogation.
“Did Ian… Did they say they missed him?”
After a miraculous reunion with an old friend, they’d parted with promises of meeting again. Afterward, Jungjoon couldn’t focus on work and had contacted Ian’s grandmother, asking her to take Ian early and let him sleep over.
“It’s about time to send him… His grandparents miss him too.”
Yoonhae let out a low “Hmm…” in response.
“I was actually thinking of taking Ian to a buffet for once. How about we plan ahead next time? Deciding this stuff one-sidedly isn’t great. I’m here too.”
Strictly speaking, it was a family matter he could decide alone, unrelated to Yoonhae, an outsider. But Jungjoon nodded as if agreeing.
“…Right… Next time… I’ll ask you too.”
Silence followed, and the inscrutable staring continued. Jungjoon endured the strange pressure of the air, lowering his gaze. Falling ash, a raised hand, and exhaled smoke clouded his vision. Phew… With a low sound, Yoonhae blew smoke toward Jungjoon’s face, making him grimace.
“…Oh. Sorry.”
Mistake. The mumbled word grated on his nerves. Cough. After a single cough, Jungjoon turned away, unable to bear the irritation.
Entering the bedroom, he opened the wardrobe and began changing hastily. As soon as he shed his shirt, the sound of Yoonhae extinguishing his cigarette and following him drew his attention behind.
“…Your work?”
Jungjoon asked while pulling on a t-shirt.
“Work?”
“Yeah… You’ve been coming here every day lately… Doesn’t it affect your business…?”
A quiet laugh sounded.
“Are you asking why I keep bothering you instead of working?”
“…No, that’s not it… I know business people are busy, so I was worried…”
He hesitated before changing pants, glancing cautiously again.
“Uh… Did something bad happen?”
Carefully asking, Yoonhae paused before answering.
“Why?”
“…Just… You’re smoking. I wondered if something went wrong at work…”
“Man… I heard Lee Yoonhae, that nasty bastard, became some big-shot businessman.”
“You’re suddenly concerned about that.”
“But the ones who know what he really is, they all know.”
“…Not suddenly… I’ve been worried for a while. You spend so much time with us, I thought it might hurt your work.”
“You think that’s a legit business? Does that bastard look like someone who can live normally doing honest work?”
Jungjoon shook his head to dispel the voice in his ears.
“But dinner— Did you eat? Want me to order something? Should I?”
“No.”
“…Then… Should I make something simple?”
The ensuing silence seemed like assent. After changing, Jungjoon went to the kitchen, setting a modest table with leftover soup and sides. Yoonhae sat at the table, watching him silently. Even after the meal was prepared, an unspoken pressure to stay made Jungjoon sit across from him, forced to watch him eat.
“……”
The sound of chopsticks and dishes clinking rang out in the stillness. Yoonhae, eating, was quieter than usual. No exclamations or praise for the plain food—just silent chewing and swallowing. Sitting opposite, Jungjoon was keenly aware of his calm presence while trying to focus on the TV he’d turned on behind him.
But soon, Yoonhae turned off the TV, plunging the living room into complete silence.
“……”
Jungjoon’s eyes blankly followed the refined movements of Yoonhae’s chopsticks. No matter where he looked, the man’s rugged frame stood out. As he took in Yoonhae’s masculine body, exuding a strong male scent, the stored voice in his mind played again.
“The day that bastard got out, none of us—me or the others—knew he was released.”
“He was right there, and we didn’t recognize him.”
“That scrawny skeleton of a kid turned disgustingly huge in a year… Oh, did you know he even fixed his stutter in there? How the hell did he get remade in prison like that?”
“Why don’t you eat too?”
The voice in his head cut off as Yoonhae looked up.
“…Oh… No, I’m full…”
Thump… thump… He heard his own pulse racing.
“News about Seo Jungjoon.”
“Shows up after a year and says that out of nowhere— Fuck, you know that look in his eyes, staring right at you, not even human, so damn creepy.”
“That disgusting vibe in his eyes was how I finally recognized him. Oh, that’s Lee Yoonhae.”
The Yoonhae before him overlapped with the voice in his head. Scenes he’d never witnessed seemed to vividly form in his mind along with the words.
“If you meet that bastard, Seo Jungjoon, you won’t recognize him. It’s like he’s a different species now.”
“Why are you staring like that?”
“Huh? Oh, no…”
Jungjoon hurriedly lowered his eyes.
“He’s not the stuttering rat we knew.”
“He’s probably way more polished now. Lots of money, sitting pretty in that world… But it’s all a shiny façade, isn’t it?”
“No, not even a façade. It’s a poisonous mushroom—eat it, and you’re dead.”
He recalled nearly nodding at his friend’s heated rant. Indeed, he hadn’t recognized Yoonhae even face-to-face, hadn’t realized who he was despite multiple conversations.
“Uh…”
Yoonhae looked up from eating at Jungjoon’s cautious call. Hesitating before those snake-like, chilling eyes, Jungjoon faltered.
“…Did you…?”
“……”
“Did you… fix your stuttering… when?”
…If it’s uncomfortable, you don’t have to say…
Cutting off his timid addendum, Yoonhae’s voice interjected.
“Just.”
“……”
“It fixed itself one day.”
“……”
“Woke up one morning, and my dumb tongue was cured.”
Jungjoon bowed his head, more uneasy than before asking. Staring at his fingertips, a question came back at him.
“You know you’re acting really different today?”
“…Huh?”
“You’re asking things you never did before. Are you suddenly curious about that stuff now?”
Before Jungjoon could explain, more questions followed.
“Or… Did you meet someone? Someone who reminded you of the past?”
His heart contracted as if it might burst out.
“…What… I’ve been curious for a while and just asked now…”
The words sounded like Yoonhae knew something, heightening his tension. His unique upbringing and businessman status made him more perceptive and sharp than most.
Jungjoon furrowed his brow slightly, lost in thought. Since meeting his friend that afternoon, unresolved emotions had piled up and tangled. The urge to know the truth clashed with a reluctance to dig into the past, a contradiction warring within him.
…If I’d let him keep talking back then, would I have heard it all?
He recalled when Yoonhae had poured out his past pain like he was spitting blood. Unable to bear the agony of listening as if his insides were being torn apart, Jungjoon had silenced him and given him what he wanted instead.
But if he hadn’t stopped him back then and had endured it to the end, Yoonhae might have confessed on his own that he’d been sent to a juvenile detention center. And if the business he was running now had any connection to his past, he might have spilled all the dark details of that history too.
If he really was involved in that kind of thing…
It would be hard to say it wasn’t entirely unrelated to the incident where Jungjoon had abandoned him and left. The attempted murder—perhaps, from Yoonhae’s perspective, he might think the full responsibility lay with Jungjoon.
No.
No.
He didn’t know. Regardless of any feelings, Yoonhae might have intended to keep silent from the start. Perhaps, irrespective of Jungjoon’s actions, he wouldn’t have revealed the truth as it was.
No, at least when it came to that part, he definitely wouldn’t have had any intention of doing so. At the very least, he surely wouldn’t have voluntarily disclosed such horrific and dark truths.
He must have known that the moment Jungjoon heard the truth, he’d feel an unbearable revulsion—that it would cross the line of common sense and tolerance for any normal person.
If the reality of his business was truly that… If everything he’d heard today was true, then Jungjoon could no longer leave his child by Yoonhae’s side. The only thought in his mind was that he had to find a way—any way—to separate Ian from him.
He needed to escape Yoonhae’s grasp as soon as possible. That single thought would solidify into a mission, not just growing firm but driving him to act with greater precision and speed, urgently and meticulously, willing to do anything to overcome this crisis.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
Startled, Jungjoon looked up.
“…Huh? Oh… Nothing, just… work stuff…”
“You had a really scary expression.”
Like someone making a monumental decision.
At his low addition, Jungjoon forced his stiff cheeks into a smile.
“There was… a troublesome client…”
Yoonhae’s gaze settled on Jungjoon’s face as he spoke. With a “Hmm…” he set down his chopsticks and looked at Jungjoon quietly.
Receiving that prolonged stare, as if weighing the truth of his words, Jungjoon dropped his eyes. Had his tone been awkward? Had his expression seemed unnatural? As he scrutinized himself, his nerves stretched taut.
“Want to grab a drink together?”
A soft voice flowed out, loosening the tension like a snap.
“…Huh?”
“I’ve had some troublesome stuff too… Let’s drink and vent a little. We’ve only sipped beer cans at home—haven’t really gone out to drink together properly, have we?”
“……”
His mind clattered, racing desperately to process this. After adjusting his expression several times to hide his agitation and confusion, Jungjoon replied.
“Then… Sure.”
Following Yoonhae, who pulled his lips into a smile and stood, Jungjoon slowly lifted his heavy body.
⟡˖ ࣪
Riding in Yoonhae’s car, they arrived at a high-end whiskey bar in what’s known as an affluent district, right in its bustling heart.
Unlike Jungjoon, for whom everything was unfamiliar on his first visit, Yoonhae seemed at home, as if it were his own territory. It was only after Jungjoon took a sip of the whiskey Yoonhae ordered that he realized this place was one of the businesses Yoonhae ran.
“…This is your place…?”
Jungjoon looked around anew. The bar’s interior, luxurious like a hotel, was mostly filled with patrons, its spacious layout and grand decor creating a private atmosphere.
“The whole building operates under one brand, with different businesses on each floor. The lower level’s a restaurant, so let’s eat there together next time.”
“…It’s quite a scale.”
Jungjoon was genuinely impressed. He’d heard Yoonhae was involved in both the food service and distribution industries, but this exceeded his imagination.
“Should’ve brought you here sooner to show you. It runs fine without me, right?”
Saying this, Yoonhae tilted his glass to his lips. He swallowed the whiskey, watching Jungjoon’s face, where the awe still lingered.
“……”
Jungjoon’s eyes briefly rested on the large hand holding the glass. Behind Yoonhae, leaning somewhat arrogantly against the sofa, a dazzling chandelier gleamed.
With a quick turn of his head, Jungjoon brought the glass to his mouth. Swallowing a small amount—just enough to wet his lips—he felt his heart pounding.
The reason he couldn’t look straight at him was that Yoonhae’s presence felt unfamiliar. Was it just the alcohol making him seem, for a moment, less like a successful businessman and more like a shadowy underworld figure?
His chest stirred, and his mind grew cluttered. Instinctively, he scanned the surroundings again to calm his unease. Amid the sweet music, people laughing, neatly dressed staff working against the lavish backdrop… As he took in the seamlessly blended scene, the baseless anxiety gradually subsided.
At least it didn’t seem like the kind of place those sorts of people would run. Far from being touched by such influences, everything appeared too normal—beyond normal, even—clean, refined, the pinnacle of quality.
“Feeling better?”
Jungjoon, who’d been watching the bartender mix drinks, reflexively turned his head.
“…What?”
Realizing the offhand remark belatedly, he added.
“…Oh, yeah… The drink’s helping. The vibe here’s nice too…”
“Really?”
“…You?”
At the added question, Yoonhae stared straight at Jungjoon’s face.
“Definitely better. Me too.”
With that low remark, he tilted his glass. Watching him swirl the amber liquid, Jungjoon posed another question.
“…So, that troublesome thing… If it’s okay, can I ask what it was?”
Yoonhae let out an “Ah…” turned his head, and soon dropped his hand with a hollow chuckle.
“It’s nothing big… Just… some annoying obstacles popped up.”
“……”
“Really, it’s not a big deal. Thinking about it, stuff like that’s always been there in life…”
As if lost in recollection, the smile faded from his face.
“I guess I got impatient.”
“……”
“It’s all coming together now, right in front of me… I feel like I’m so close, and it’s making me thirsty.”
Then, as if truly parched, he took another sip. Watching his Adam’s apple bob heavily with the swallow, Jungjoon unconsciously swallowed too.
“But there’s nothing to worry about. I’m lucky.”
His eyes locked onto Jungjoon’s, captivating them.
“At the critical moment, God’s always on my side.”
Always.
The emphasis in his gaze somehow stifled Jungjoon, and he looked away. Clutching the cold glass, he gulped down the harsh whiskey like it was a soft drink.
“Slow down.”
“…Yeah.”
He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. The alcohol hit hard.
“Want to rest in the office upstairs for a bit?”
“…Office?”
“There’s one up there. Want to check it out?”
Jungjoon suddenly recalled the building’s exterior, which he’d entered thoughtlessly. Looking back, its massive, shopping-center-like scale had left an impression. For ordinary people, renting even a small office here would be a stretch—realizing anew that Yoonhae owned and managed this building underscored how extraordinary it was.
…Would seeing the office change something? Could the lingering doubts and unease in his heart finally dissipate, giving him positive certainty this time? With his alcohol-fuzzed mind pondering, Jungjoon nodded after a brief hesitation.
Soon, following Yoonhae, they took an elevator used only by staff to the upper floor. The rushed drinking caught up, and as soon as he stepped in, dizziness hit. Leaning his heavy head against the wall, he closed his eyes. He regretted chugging the rest of that pricey drink—worth more than a meal—just before standing, not wanting to waste it.
“Really dizzy?”
The question came with the ding of the elevator. As Jungjoon straightened to step out, a hand reached for his waist. Feeling burdened by the unnecessary support, he pushed it away. Just then, the doors opened, and he sensed someone standing outside.
“…Oh, Manager.”
A tall man in a suit bowed upon seeing Yoonhae. Likely one of his employees. Adjusting his disheveled appearance, Jungjoon quickly stepped out of Yoonhae’s reach and the elevator.
Then, glancing aside, he froze in shock.
“……”
As he registered the other person with surprise, they too recognized Jungjoon. For a fleeting moment, their eyes flashed with astonishment.
“I thought Team Leader Choi had left.”
“…Oh… Yes, some cleanup took longer, so I’m heading out now.”
The first few seconds were just a reflexive reaction to a familiar face. Who was he? soon turned into an Oh of realization. Struck by the bizarre coincidence, Jungjoon couldn’t peel his eyes off the man’s face despite knowing it was rude.
“…Do you know each other?”
Yoonhae asked, looking between Jungjoon and the man.
“Oh… Not exactly… Just someone I’ve run into around the neighborhood a few times… I greeted him at the mart once before… Do you remember me, maybe?”
“…Oh… Yes.”
The man replied curtly and averted his gaze. His clear discomfort made Jungjoon’s buzz fade, leaving him sheepish. Strictly speaking, they weren’t “acquaintances”—just a passerby he’d unnecessarily acknowledged in a public setting.
“…Funny coincidence.”
Yoonhae’s murmur reached his ears. Then, to the man who seemed to be his subordinate, he said,
“Oh, Team Leader Choi, can you wait here a sec? I forgot to check something about the U.S. imports. I’ll just show him the office and be back.”
“…Yes. I’ll wait.”
Leaving the employee behind, Yoonhae placed a hand on Jungjoon’s back, guiding him inside. After passing a long hallway and reaching the innermost part, Yoonhae unlocked a closed door and stepped in. As it opened and lights came on, a stunning night view unfolded in Yoonhae’s office space.
“…It’s huge.”
Ambient indirect lighting illuminated the room like a gallery. Like the bar downstairs, it reeked of money poured into it. Naturally, a CEO’s office would be grand, but just stepping inside felt overwhelming. The dark wood and black tones lent a heavy, restrained atmosphere, perfectly matching the image of a young, successful executive.
“Drink this.”
Yoonhae handed Jungjoon a goblet—excessively ornate—filled with water from the fridge.
“Lie on the sofa if you’re dizzy.”
Saying this, he brushed Jungjoon’s hair back like a caretaker.
“Treat it like home and rest. I’ll step out to handle some work.”
As his hand dropped from Jungjoon’s shoulder, his lips came close, briefly pressing Jungjoon’s forehead before pulling away. Jungjoon flinched, frowning reflexively. Before he could protest the odd act, Yoonhae turned and left, his back stealing the view.
Click.
The door shut, leaving Jungjoon alone. He stood dazed for a moment, then rubbed his face with a long sigh. Unbeknownst to him, the constant tension had drained him. Gulping down the water in one go, he approached the nearby sofa and sat.
“……”
He still felt a bit dizzy. Unable to resist, he lay down, but the vast space’s alienness soon forced him up again.
Standing reluctantly, Jungjoon began surveying the unfamiliar office. Passing decorations he didn’t dare touch, he reached the desk, where a nameplate finally caught his eye.
‘CEO Lee Yoonhae’
Did success this grand erase petty obsessions with titles? The employee earlier had called him “Manager” too—clearly, Yoonhae preferred that over pompous labels.
“……”
Jungjoon lowered his eyes, sinking into thought. He recalled the chance encounter moments ago—the man who’d called Yoonhae “Manager.”
It was oddly fascinating, a coincidence that could be chalked up to “small world” and dismissed. Yet, for some reason, the man’s startled expression stuck in his mind, refusing to fade.
It was less surprise and more like…
“……”
Frowning faintly, Jungjoon lifted his hand from tracing the nameplate’s letters. After staring at one spot for a few seconds, he suddenly turned as if pulled by some force. Striding with large steps, he headed to the office door, opened it, and stepped out.
Like someone urgently searching, he roamed the unfamiliar hallway. As his anxious steps turned back in the deserted corridor—all office doors closed, no one around—a sound nearly slipped past his ears, piercing through.
It came from inside a closed door. A heavy, dull friction sound, interspersed with a low male voice, drew Jungjoon’s feet closer.
“……”
Holding his breath, he pressed his ear to the door. For a moment, it seemed silent. But soon, breaking the quiet, a thud, thud—a clearer friction sound—leaked out. A noise only explainable as someone hitting another, followed by groans, drilled into Jungjoon’s ears.
The low voice was muffled, its meaning unclear. Yet it sounded hauntingly familiar.
A long sentence followed. Listening intently, Jungjoon sensed approaching footsteps and quickly pulled away, turning.
Rushing back to the previous office, he realized too late the door had auto-locked. Panicked, he looked around as a click echoed from the far end of the hall—a door opening. Driven by urgency, he clutched his racing heart, circled to the opposite side, and hid in the hallway bathroom.
Ducking into a stall like a fugitive, he leaned against the partition. In the bleak, inescapable dread, he covered his face with both hands.
Thug.
Mobster.
Criminal.
Murderer.
Terrifying words flooded his mind.
Breathing became hard. The truth he’d now confirmed, as expected, crashed over him with unbearable repulsion.
Past memories resurfaced, cloaked in darkness. The unusual aura he’d felt since their reunion, the haughty confidence of someone accustomed to dominance, the occasional chilling vibe that froze people, and the violent behavior he’d witnessed—all flashed through his head like overlooked evidence.
The reflexive aversion he’d felt toward Yoonhae, unexplained until now, finally made complete sense.
“Guys like that are just destined for it from the moment they’re born.”
“Living in the shadows, doing every filthy deed, like vermin, like maggots, splashing blood and filth, dragging everyone they touch into the abyss—that’s their fate, those disgusting things.”
“That’s why you’ve got to run like hell before you get tangled up with them.”
His old friend’s shuddering voice rang in his ears.
“I’m telling you again, even if he came back from the dead, you wouldn’t recognize him.”
“He’s not that whiny kid you knew.”
“When I got caught by him once before going off the grid after years of torment, he was still nineteen, you know?”
“But even then, fuck…”
“He was already a seasoned gangster through and through.”
Reality descended like an unavoidable darkness.
“Urgh…!”
Overcome with nausea, Jungjoon vomited into the toilet. The combination of drinking hard liquor on an empty stomach and emotional turmoil triggered a violent physical rejection.
As he retched up bile, a sudden presence startled him. A grip on his arm made his spine stiffen with tension.
“You okay?”
The familiar voice came from behind. Caught in the awkward realization, Jungjoon barely gathered himself, stood, and flushed the toilet. Escaping Yoonhae’s hold—whose hand rested on his back as if to support him—he staggered to the sink.
“You throw up when you drink too fast.”
Even as he rinsed his mouth and washed his face, the presence lingering beside him kept his nerves on edge. No matter how much he rinsed, the alcohol stench lingered. Despite emptying his stomach, the dizziness persisted.
“…I should head home. I’m feeling really bad…”
With a pale face, Jungjoon lowered his gaze. He hurriedly wiped his face and hands with a disposable towel. As he grabbed another to keep wiping, an inscrutable silence hung in the air.
“But why are you trembling so much?”
“……”
Only then did Jungjoon clench his shaking hands and lower them.
“Did something happen while I was gone?”
At the question, he snapped his head up.
“What… I’m just weak because I’m sick.”
Flinching as Yoonhae’s hand approached his face without warning, he stepped back. The hand lingered in the air before cupping Jungjoon’s cheek.
“Your face is deathly pale.”
“…Is it?”
His throat tightened. Perhaps sensing his discomfort, the hand slid away.
“You’ve been avoiding my eyes since earlier.”
Like someone hiding something.
“……”
Jungjoon almost reflexively met his gaze. The few seconds of forced eye contact felt endlessly long. With a pfft, Yoonhae let out a deflating laugh and turned.
“I’ll take you home, so let’s stop by the office first.”
Watching his back as he left the bathroom, Jungjoon soon dropped the towel he’d been clutching and took heavy steps after him.
Even back in the office, Jungjoon kept staring at the door. While Yoonhae rummaged through the desk, his attention was elsewhere. All he felt was the desire to avoid being alone with him and the instinct to escape his influence as soon as possible.
Oh, how wise it had been to leave Ian with his grandparents. Jungjoon genuinely felt relief as he mulled over what to do next. He had no clue where to start or what to tackle first, but his resolve and determination to find a way were stronger than ever.
“…Hyung.”
A voice belatedly pierced his ears, and he looked up.
“…Oh, yeah. You done?”
Having finished whatever he was doing, Yoonhae now stood right in front of him.
“What were you thinking so hard about that you didn’t hear me?”
“Oh… Sorry. Work stuff…”
He tried to turn with an excuse, but his shoulder was grabbed.
“Be honest.”
“…What?”
“You’re hiding something from me.”
The certainty in his downward gaze was unsettling.
“…It’s not like that.”
As if to prove it, Jungjoon lifted his chin and met his eyes. Under the soft lighting, Yoonhae’s eyes glinted like sharpened blades.
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“……”
“With distance.”
Pointed out, Jungjoon dropped his eyes and made an excuse.
“What… I’m just sick… You saw me throw up. I’m still dizzy and nauseous. I just want to get home and rest…”
Glancing cautiously, he caught Yoonhae undoing his shirt buttons with one hand.
“Wh-Why…”
Revealing his chest, Yoonhae pulled a flustered Jungjoon by the waist, pressing close.
“…Let’s take care of one thing before we go. I’m too worked up to drive like this.”
His already erect member pressed firmly against Jungjoon’s groin.
“……”
Every hair on his body stood on end. The discomfort of something touching where it shouldn’t. Feeling the breath on his neck, Jungjoon stiffened, and as a hand slid to his buttocks, he shoved Yoonhae away with a smack and turned. Striding quickly, he gripped the doorknob.
“Guh…!”
But Yoonhae rushed forward and grabbed him in a bear hug. Trapping Jungjoon with both arms, he tried to strip off his shirt. Infuriated by the brutish hands, Jungjoon pushed back with all his might and shouted.
“L-Let go, you fucking thug…!”
Swinging his arm, he turned to see Yoonhae clutching his face. A scratch from Jungjoon’s nails had left a faint red mark on his cheek.
Yoonhae’s eyes turned to Jungjoon. Startled, Jungjoon stumbled back toward the corner. The sinister glint in his eyes was sharp, like a predator tracking prey.
Jungjoon retreated, backing away. The approaching giant figure felt like a reaper coming to kill him. He nearly tripped over a shelf behind him, objects falling from above. Hesitating, he darted to the opposite side as Yoonhae closed in fast.
It was a game of tag—chasing and being chased. In desperation, Jungjoon threw whatever he could grab. Feeling the crisis, he snatched Yoonhae’s nameplate as a makeshift weapon.
“…Don’t come closer…”
He swung it in the air, his voice trembling despite his intent to threaten.
Yoonhae laughed silently. Seeing that laugh—like an adult watching a child’s game—Jungjoon realized how laughable his threat was to someone who toyed with human lives.
“Urk…!”
In a moment of distraction, Yoonhae grabbed his arm. The nameplate he’d meant to use as a weapon fell to the carpet with a dull thud.
“Argh…!”
As expected, facing him head-on revealed the stark difference in strength. Beyond size, muscle mass, and age, Yoonhae’s innate power was incomparable.
Pushed back while restrained, they ended up at the sofa. With a thud, two adult male bodies collapsed onto it, overlapping. Yoonhae pinned Jungjoon down with his large, heavy frame. Unable to move, Jungjoon groaned, struggling to free his trapped arms.
“You were standing outside the door earlier, weren’t you?”
You heard everything, didn’t you?
Yoonhae’s whispering lips brushed his ear. With one hand, he easily bound both of Jungjoon’s wrists, using the other to toy with his body.
“D-Don’t touch me…”
With his hands pinned above his head, Jungjoon trembled.
“Why? Because it’s a filthy thug’s hands?”
As he spoke, he unbuttoned Jungjoon’s shirt with a pop, pop.
“You used to say I was cool. Successful. Back then, you looked up to me like I was some great businessman, but now I’m a dirty bug. That stings.”
His hand slipped in, stroking Jungjoon’s bare skin, scraping his tense nipple. Caressing his taut waist, he deftly unbuckled Jungjoon’s pants with one hand. Terrified, Jungjoon whimpered don’t and squirmed.
“You’re too much, hyung.”
Leaning down, Yoonhae pressed their faces together. Sucking Jungjoon’s earlobe, he made a crude, slurping sound.
“Because of who… huh? Who turned me into this filthy thug…”
The madness in his gleaming eyes was palpable. Unable to bear the horror, Jungjoon turned his face away. Yoonhae’s grip then seized his jaw, forcing it back.
“Why do you think I started this shit… huh?”
Gripping his cheeks hard enough to bruise, he glared down at Jungjoon’s grimace.
“I thought about becoming a cop at first. Those ‘pillars of the people’—I went begging every day, but they wouldn’t find you, fuck… So I thought I’d do it myself for a while.”
“……”
“But being there, I figured it out. Those bastards had no power. The real power was elsewhere, and so was what I was good at. The world has jobs only guys with nothing to lose can do, hyung.”
A chill ran through him. The source was disgust.
“If I hadn’t done this, could I have found you? No, I guarantee I couldn’t. I’d have blown all my money on detectives and died miserably on the streets, calling your name till the end.”
“……”
“While you were sucking on some woman’s tits, huh? Living humbly, happily, building the ordinary family you wanted, raising a kid not even your blood—all that, and I wouldn’t have had a clue.”
Staring up at his sneering face, Jungjoon was struck with shock.
“You… H-How do you…”
He knew Ian wasn’t his biological son. A secret he’d never told anyone—how did he know? Buried in confusion and fear, his lips quivered.
“Man… You’re so naive, hyung.”
That’s why you’re cute. Muttering, he stripped off his shirt. Using it to tie Jungjoon’s hands, preventing resistance, he pulled down Jungjoon’s underwear and pants. Leaving only socks, he stripped him bare, then lowered just enough of his own clothes to free his erection. Rubbing it against Jungjoon’s limp member and the tense groin beneath, he groaned.
“…Ha… You’d have never known this taste your whole life.”
Poor thing… This delicious thing…
Incomprehensible murmurs poured into his ears. Grabbing Jungjoon’s narrow hips and thrusting roughly, he quickly reached climax.
Then he toyed with Jungjoon’s half-aroused member. Why? For what reason? Jungjoon was horrified by his body reacting against his will. What had once stayed unresponsive in disgust now inexplicably heated up—he couldn’t understand it.
Yoonhae, roughly kneading his member, lowered his head and took it into his mouth. His large male mouth sucked with even stronger force, as if swallowing it whole. Was it emotional outrage, or did this overwhelming disgust somehow glitch his nervous system? His hypersensitive lower body absorbed every loathsome sensation, swelling rapidly. Blood rushed in, fully erecting his member, and horrified, Jungjoon clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.
A thick gulp sounded as Yoonhae swallowed the dense fluid. A hot groan spilled from the mouth that released his member.
“Seo Jungjoon’s cum taste.”
He licked and sucked Jungjoon’s fluid-slicked penis clean, from the damp pubic hair to the scrotum, rubbing his prominent nose and slightly parted lips against it repeatedly.
“Did your wife suck you off this deep too?”
He asked, exhaling a drunken breath.
“Did she eat your dick better than me? Huh?”
Enduring until his toes curled, Jungjoon snapped back to himself. Twisting his body, he slammed his knee into Yoonhae’s face with all his strength. Thud—! With a loud sound, Yoonhae staggered, and seizing the chance, Jungjoon slipped out from under him and off the sofa.
Frantically turning the doorknob with bound hands, he barely escaped outside. An empty hallway stretched before him, and from there, he bolted toward the elevator.
A thirty-something man in an open shirt, socks only, lower half fully exposed. He knew how grotesque and pathetic he must look. But in this moment, if he could just escape Yoonhae, nothing else mattered. Only a desperate, primal survival instinct remained.
“Ha… Ha… Argh…!!”
A sharp pain shot through his scalp, blindingly intense. Dragged by the agonizing force, Jungjoon realized his hair had been grabbed.