“If you haven’t eaten yet, would you like to join me? An acquaintance of mine just opened a place in Inhandong. # Nоvеlight # It’s still in soft opening, but if I call, they’ll make room for us. Chef Kim Joonghee—you know him, right?”

Even Haejun had heard that name. The chef had made it pretty high up on one of those cooking survival shows recently. No Eunjae once said getting a reservation there was like picking a star out of the sky. But for this guy, it looked like all it took was a single curl of his finger.

“I heard you like Korean food, sir....”

The man kept twisting his fingers together, staring at Lee Kangjoo. Haejun could read the affection spilling out of his eyes. The guy wasn’t even trying to hide it. Didn’t seem like he wanted to. He was openly courting Kangjoo.

Heat flared in Haejun’s gut.

He hated the way those eyes clung to Kangjoo. Hated those fidgeting fingers behind his back. He had the sudden urge to grab the bastard by the collar and dunk his head upside down into the arowana tank. His fists clenched on their own.

He was halfway through imagining holding that small skull underwater when he startled at himself and gave a tiny shake of his head. Thinking like that about someone he’d just met.

“I have plans.”

Thankfully, Lee Kangjoo turned the man down smoothly. With a smile.

And why the hell was it that the same smile Haejun usually stared at like an idiot suddenly pissed him off so much?

He wanted to pick up the nearest helmet and smash it against the floor. He hadn’t postponed deliveries just to come watch this infuriating scene. His solar plexus felt like it was on fire, like sharp smoke was rising from it and stinging his nose.

“Then what about dinner tonight?”

“Not sure.”

“I really want to set something up this time....”

He couldn’t listen to any more of that.

“Ahem.”

Haejun deliberately cleared his throat.

Both of them turned at once. Kangjoo had probably known he was there all along. The other man looked like he’d known too—and chosen to ignore him.

“Who?”

He wanted to proudly declare, I’m the only hobby that guy you’re eyeing has these days. Instead, Haejun hesitated and glanced at Kangjoo. Something flickered briefly in Kangjoo’s eyes.

“My prior appointment.”

The words dropped out of Kangjoo’s mouth just like that.

Haejun’s eyes went wide.

They had no appointment. He’d only texted asking if he could drop by. There’d been no reply. He’d been anxious the whole time, afraid Kangjoo would tell him not to come.

And now—prior appointment.

Guilty for no reason, Haejun flinched, then quickly straightened his expression under the other man’s suspicious stare. He gave a big nod, even lifting his chin a little.

“Should I wait a bit longer?”

He asked it like it was nothing.

Kangjoo walked over to him. An employee quickly brought over his coat and handed it to him.

Before leaving the office, Haejun stuck close behind Kangjoo and glanced back at the other man. He was trying to look calm, but the fluster was obvious to Haejun’s eyes.

Haejun just grinned.

The man’s brows crumpled with irritation. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Served him right.

* * *

He’d managed to pry Kangjoo away from the guy, but they didn’t end up going on a date. The delivery company boss had called, apparently aware he was slacking off. Kangjoo also got an urgent call from Yang Seokho and didn’t even have time for a cup of coffee.

After they parted, Haejun believed Kangjoo when he said he’d come by in the evening and waited like his neck was about to stretch a mile. It was winter—the nights were longer than the days—so why the hell did the sun crawl so slowly toward the horizon? The second his shift ended, he returned the bike and practically flew home.

Kangjoo arrived later than Haejun.

Talking wasn’t the priority.

It was their heated bodies.

Whether he’d been holding back while Haejun was sick or had decided there was no reason to go easy on him now that he’d recovered, Kangjoo was rougher than usual.

Every time their lower bodies collided, it felt like waves smashing against solid rock and shattering. When he was pinned under that massive frame, he felt like prey caught between a bird of prey’s iron talons.

Haejun accepted everything willingly.

The suffocating weight pressing him down. The grip around his wrists that threatened to bruise. The heat that felt like it could burn through his insides. He wrapped himself around all of it.

Even after it was over, he couldn’t close his legs for a long time.

Whenever he tried to press his thighs together, Kangjoo pushed his arm between them, blocking him. He kneaded at Haejun’s slack flesh, but the bastard who’d already come two or three times just hung soft and useless.

Apparently bored of that, Kangjoo slid his fingers into Haejun’s pliant entrance instead. Under the pretense of scooping out what had pooled inside.

‘Stop— th, ah... ngh!’

Even when Haejun sniffled and whimpered, Kangjoo kept going, dragging out a climax that didn’t even involve release before finally pulling his fingers free. Then, as casually as a snake slipping over a wall, he filled the empty space with himself again and waged what felt like another round of war.

By the end, Haejun’s stamina was completely drained. He was on the verge of blacking out. Maybe he had dozed off for a second. His vision suddenly cut to black, and he flinched awake.

He didn’t want to miss even a single second of being with Kangjoo.

“...”

Had he actually lost consciousness? At some point the lights were off, the room submerged in quiet darkness. Haejun slowly turned his head.

Kangjoo was lying on his side, one arm stretched out long.

He seemed to be lightly asleep, eyes closed. Haejun watched his face from the front for a while, then, emboldened by the dark, crawled over in small, careful movements.

He rested his head softly against Kangjoo’s solid bicep and looked up at him cautiously.

At that moment, Kangjoo’s eyelids twitched.

Haejun quickly ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. He even faked the rhythm of breathing.

But he couldn’t fool him.

The quiet chuckle above his head was proof his clumsy act had been seen straight through.

Embarrassed, Haejun slowly opened his eyes.

Their gazes met.

The fine lines folding at the corners of Kangjoo’s eyes were so beautiful they made Haejun’s chest ache, like he’d discovered a single beam of light piercing the dark.

He liked Lee Kangjoo.

Liked him so much that sometimes it felt like thorns were sprouting under his skin, pricking him from the inside.

He didn’t even know why he’d fallen this hard. Their first meeting had been a mess. And the “whipping”—hadn’t that been hell? There’d been a time when even seeing Kangjoo’s back made him tremble.

But if he endured well, he’d get a carrot as a reward—sweet as honey. Maybe he’d gotten addicted to that taste. Maybe that was why whenever he saw Kangjoo, both his reason and sanity flipped over together.

If he kept looking any longer, he might forget himself and lunge in for a kiss.

Scared of that, Haejun quickly moved his head off Kangjoo’s arm and onto the pillow, lying flat.

“Um... that person at the office today. Who was he?”

He tossed it out casually, like it was nothing.

Truth was, he’d been thinking about it all day. Only after the words left his mouth did he regret it. Was it even his place to ask? He forced his anxious heart to stay hidden and met Kangjoo’s eyes.

Kangjoo propped himself up on one elbow, resting his head on his hand, looking down at him.

“An employee from a partner company.”

“He was really handsome.”

“And?”

Objectively, the guy would be considered good-looking. Of course, compared to Kangjoo, he was dirt under a toenail.

Then again, Kangjoo’s aesthetic standards probably sat somewhere on the highest peak on earth. He looked at his own face in the mirror every day, after all.

“I heard he once prepared to become an actor.”

“You must be pretty close if he tells you things like that.”

When Haejun asked something that crossed a line, he’d been cut off immediately. But with that man, Kangjoo seemed close enough to chat casually.

Maybe it was just the sweat cooling on his skin.

Or maybe something else.

The air suddenly felt cold.

He pulled the crumpled blanket from the foot of the bed and covered himself.

“He was the one talking loudly.”

The flat answer made Haejun pull the blanket up to his nose. To hide the way his lips were probably sticking out.

“That person seemed to like you, sir—”

He stopped himself and yanked the blanket over his head. What if telling him that made Kangjoo pay even more attention to the guy? The thought hit him too late.

“Finish what you were saying.”

Kangjoo pulled the blanket down, coaxing him. There was something faintly reproachful in those lazy eyes.

Right. Even if he tried to hide it now, how could he possibly fool someone this sharp?

Giving up, Haejun confessed.

“I think he likes you.”

“Can’t say about that. But he did say he likes men.”

“What?”

Haejun’s upper body shot up like a spring. Now he was the one looking down at Kangjoo.

He himself had never been interested in men.

But at some point, drawn to Kangjoo, he’d handed his heart over without meaning to.

Didn’t that mean Kangjoo could do the same?

Judging by how easily he’d gotten used to sleeping with Haejun, it didn’t seem like gender mattered much to him anymore. If that man came onto him, Kangjoo might accept him with that same indifferent expression.

And unlike Haejun, who was shabby and small, that man was elegant and confident. He looked used to drawing attention. He wouldn’t shrink standing next to Kangjoo.

What if—

What if Haejun’s role was nothing more than helping Kangjoo realize he could want in another direction?

What if he was just a temporary stop on the way?

“...”

Even imagining it made him sick.

His throat went dry. His chest tightened painfully.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why?”

“I mean... if that person likes you....”

He trailed off.

It had only been a brief moment, but the look in that man’s eyes had been clear. He was completely smitten. The fidgeting fingers, the desperate gaze, the flushed cheeks—those were all the signs of someone in love.

Before, Haejun wouldn’t have noticed.

Now he did.

The man’s behavior was nothing more than a reflection of his own.

“Not my problem.”

Maybe that was why.

That answer reassured him—

And yet, somewhere deep inside, something quietly collapsed.