T/N: For Jola. Thanks for the candles. Hehehe
A drop of blood bubbled up from his chin. He’d been shaving dry without shaving cream when the blade caught, leaving a fresh cut. His mind had been elsewhere the whole time, even as his hand moved.
The cheap, old razor he used was already dull, so the cut wasn’t deep. He barely had any facial hair to begin with—had he even needed to shave? Giyun finished the job hastily and wiped away the blood. His dazed face reflected in the cracked bathroom mirror. Nothing had gone right since morning.
At the office, Assistant Manager Kim frowned when he saw Giyun.
“Giyun, what happened to your face?”
“I cut myself shaving this morning.”
Giyun rubbed his chin awkwardly. Assistant Manager Kim, lamenting the scar on his handsome face, fetched ointment and bandages from the office and handed them to him.
Giyun, who had been making milk tea in the break room, stopped stirring the milk to receive the medicine. He expressed his gratitude for Assistant Manager Kim’s concern for his face, more than his own, and applied the ointment to his chin.
“Thank you.”
“Seems like you’ve been drinking that a lot lately? Is it tasty?”
Assistant Manager Kim pointed to the cup in front of Giyun. It was milk tea made with French tea bags and pure milk from an eco-friendly, certified organic farm.
“Ah, this? I’m trying to bankrupt the CEO…”
“What?”
He was definitely spacing out more than usual today. Giyun hurriedly shut his mouth, realizing his true feelings had slipped out. Assistant Manager Kim laughed loudly, but Giyun couldn’t muster a single smile.
Giyun rinsed the milk stirrer, glancing around nervously, then applied the bandage Assistant Manager Kim had given him to the fresh cut.
But the wound in his heart was beyond repair. Another week had passed, and Seungjo still treated him like he was invisible. Only then did Giyun realize for certain. He would keep silent about that day forever. He wanted to pretend it never happened.
I was the one who drank the alcohol, yet he was the one pretending his memory had evaporated. Was I some kind of black history? When he shoved his tongue down my throat, what then? Does pretending you don’t know make it never happened?
All this time, agonizing over his feelings and waiting for him to contact me, I really was a complete fool. There’s a limit to ignoring someone. It wasn’t just hurt; it felt downright unfair. If this kept up, I’d get so angry I wouldn’t live to see my time.
After finishing work at the office building, Giyun went back to the academy’s self-study room out of habit and stayed late into the night, but today, too, the book’s contents wouldn’t properly register. Instead of studying, Giyun was too busy venting his pent-up anger in his mind.
Then, finally, with a face that seemed to have made a decision, he packed his things and got up from his seat. Studying wasn’t working, and sitting there until midnight was pure torture.
If he truly treated me like a dark past, then I would become a truly unforgettable dark past. I didn’t know if I’d regret this choice tomorrow, but at least right now, I felt no hesitation in my actions.
It was almost time for the last train to stop running, but Giyun didn’t head home. The place he arrived at was Seungjo’s company building. If he wasn’t here, he’d be at the academy’s research lab. I knew he usually clocked in at dawn and clocked out in the dead of night for his lectures. Sometimes he didn’t clock out at all.
Giyun tagged his access card at the office entrance and stepped inside. The empty interior was pitch-black like a cave. Walking down the darkened hallway as if it were his own home, Giyun fearlessly flung open the CEO’s office door. Unlike the hallway, a moderately bright light flooded over Giyun.
“Eun Giyun, did you get shot in the head?”
Along with the reproach, “Are you out of your mind?”
Seungjo, who had been sitting at his desk, glared at Giyun with an expression that was beyond annoyed, bordering on incredulous.
It seemed the inconsiderate, uninvited guest who appeared in the middle of the night without knocking had thoroughly rubbed him the wrong way.
He should have done this sooner. Whether he really had been shot, as Seungjo claimed, Giyun felt less fear than a sense of relief, like an old blockage had finally cleared. The piles of documents and textbooks on the desk showed he was buried in work, but that was the last thing Giyun cared about now.
“Does this look like Eun Giyun’s master bedroom to you?”
“There’s no master bedroom in my place, sir.”
“….”
“It’s a studio apartment.”
Seungjo gritted his teeth.
“You’ve been drinking again?”
“No.”
Giyun shook his head. The pent-up emotions that had been boiling inside him for weeks had finally erupted, leaving him feeling perhaps worse than if he had been drunk, but he hadn’t actually consumed any alcohol.
“Good. If you show up drunk one more time, I was going to beat you half to death.”
That low voice, almost a mutter, hung ominously in the spacious office.
How long had it been since he’d boldly appeared? Giyun’s fingertips twitched reflexively.
Don’t be scared. If you’re scared, even what could be done won’t be done.
Giyun repeated it like a mantra in his mind.
“Hah.”
Seungjo let out a deep sigh, as if holding back anger, then stretched out his arm lightly.
“Hand over your access card. Mr. Eun Giyun is now banned from entering this entire building.”
“I refuse.”
His own building? Giyun hid the access card in his hand behind his back. Seungjo lifted one corner of his mouth as he rose from his seat.
“You think it’s funny when I ask nicely?”
From the desk opposite to the door, striding past the long sofa and across the spacious area, he finally reached out toward Giyun.
There was no time to think. With the mindset of hiding it before it could be snatched, Giyun slipped the pass inside his shirt. Thanks to his loose shirt tucked into cotton pants, the pass was now tucked inside Giyun’s clothing. The cold plastic touched the skin of his abdomen.
Seungjo, who had been watching Giyun’s sudden action with a look of concern, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it forward without mercy.
Unable to resist the force, Giyun’s body was dragged a step toward Seungjo. A chill wind blew across his abdomen and side. The bottom button of his shirt snapped off as the pass clattered to the floor.
“Really… you’ll do anything.”
Seungjo pressed the fallen pass firmly under his shoe and pushed it away. His half-hearted kick sent the plastic case holding Giyun’s photo hurtling far away, under the sofa.
Giyun watched the badge vanish before his eyes, its trail fading into the gloom. It felt like his own fate.
Giyun grabbed the end of Seungjo’s shirt sleeve with a face ready to cry, as if scolding him.
“…Why did you kiss me?”
Unable to even look him in the face, Giyun kept his head bowed as he voiced the question he’d pondered over a hundred times.
With his pass snatched away, he had nothing left to lose.
“Well. Why did you speak to me so casually, Eun Giyun?”
Seungjo brushed his sleeve off and asked back nonchalantly.
Giyun was speechless. His rejected hand wandered aimlessly. Buried in the memory of his kiss, the past misdeeds he’d long forgotten resurfaced.
“You grabbed your employer by the collar—someone who’s never even withheld wages. You were practically asking for a punch.”
“…”
“Ah… I tried, but you blocked it. Damn.”
Seungjo gently stroked his own solar plexus. He’d subdued him before his hand even touched, and that act—as if he’d served ten years—was utterly shameless.
“Who’d hire someone so scary? Next time I’m with Eun Giyun, I’ll need bodyguards.”
The endless sarcasm made Giyun cringe. Even if he had a reason, apologizing for his own mistake came first.
“I’m sorry. That day, I…”
“Enough with the apologies. Let’s call it even.”
His carefully crafted apology was abruptly cut off mid-sentence. Giyun gaped, dumbfounded.
Even? What was he talking about? Their situations weren’t even on the same level.
“Nothing happened that day, and nothing will happen in the future.”
“…Is that your answer, sir?”
“Yes.”
His attitude, drawing a line as if it had nothing to do with him, was infuriatingly hurtful and bitter.
All those countless nights spent tossing and turning, unable to sleep properly because I’d been thinking about him, scattered meaninglessly from my memory.
“Nothing happened… Why wouldn’t there be?”
I don’t know if an adult like him could casually brush off something like that as nothing, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was the difference between liking someone and not liking them.
“This is, well… isn’t this that kind of situation?”
As the sorrow washed over me like a tidal wave, Giyun recalled the passionate advice Assistant Manager Kim had given me on the rooftop.
He picked out the words she’d fired at Seungjo like a barrage of bombs.
He wanted to shock him somehow, to make him confront the situation he was trying to avoid.
“You… you’re basically playing with someone young and naive…”
“You think that’s funny?”
Before Giyun could finish, he smirked, his eyes narrowing.
“First off, the idea that Eun Giyun is naive is ridiculous. Don’t you find it funny even as you say it?”
“…..”
“Besides… I didn’t do anything that could be called ‘playing with you.’ At most, I just responded to your provocation?”
Seungjo tilted his head sideways. Whether it was pathetic acting or genuine, a puzzled look appeared on his face.
“Then isn’t it Eun Giyun who toyed with me, not the other way around?”
Giyun’s mouth fell open. What kind of mind shift was this?
“If you’re done talking, you can leave now.”
A crisp command fell upon Giyun, who was speechless for a moment, unable to respond.
His eyes, which had been darting about, gradually settled.
A gut feeling struck him: if he left like this today, he’d never get another chance to speak to him like this.
Giyun took a deep breath, as if resolving something. Turning away without hesitation, he spoke softly to Seungjo’s back.
“…I’m sorry for daring to toy with you, Professor.”
“I told you, I don’t need that kind of apology.”
“This time, you can toy with me instead.”
“…”
“That’s only fair, isn’t it?”
A flicker of something akin to contempt flashed across Seungjo’s face as he turned back.
His previously indifferent expression hardened sharply, his jaw clenching so tightly the sharp angle beneath his jawbone repeatedly jutted out.
Giyun also clamped his mouth shut. His fingertips twitched spasmodically at the sharp reaction, but he strained desperately not to show his tension.
“Do you even know what you’re babbling about?”
“Yes.”
The moment he answered, Seungjo placed his hand on Giyun’s forehead.
His large hand completely covered Giyun’s small face, obscuring his forehead and even his eyebrows.
Giyun’s eyes were forced shut.
“No fever.”
“…”
“Have you lost your mind from meeting so many men?”
The last words clearly carried emotion. Seungjo pressed harder with the fingers touching his forehead. His forehead and temples ached from the pressure.
Giyun bit the inside of his lip to stifle a groan. Not being able to see anything made it even scarier.
“Why is this happening here too?”
His head was lifted while his eyes remained covered. He felt Seungjo arbitrarily peel off the bandage stuck to his chin. The touch of fingers tracing the raw wound tickled.
“I cut myself shaving this morning…”
“Do you have body hair too, Eun Giyun?”
He let out a snort of derision. Giyun’s face flushed crimson at the unexpected humiliation. Unlike earlier, heat was clearly rising to his forehead now.
“Me? I… I’m not a reptile.”
Giyun stammered, firing back. He couldn’t see a thing and was so embarrassed he didn’t even know what he was saying.
“You do it every few days.”
It was an awkward question. Unable to answer immediately, Giyun just smacked his lips. After a long pause, he blurted it out as if confessing.
“…Once a month…”
Hearing only a scoffing sound, as if expecting it, Giyun’s face flushed crimson again.
Seungjo still held Giyun’s head tilted back, half his face hidden.
Each time Giyun swallowed dryly, his Adam’s apple moved laboriously up and down.
Even though he couldn’t see it, he felt the blatant gaze. Perhaps because of that, the heat rising to his scalp showed no sign of cooling.
Just as he thought his temples would be squeezed again, his vision suddenly brightened as if emerging from a dark tunnel.
Seungjo, as if nothing had happened, pulled his hand away and turned away from Giyun, sitting down on the sofa.
“Playing with me?”
“…”
“Every word out of your mouth is insolent and utterly reckless.”
His gesture of taking a cigarette from the table and placing it between his lips was so natural it didn’t even prompt the question of whether the office was non-smoking. The crisp sound of the metal lighter’s lid opening seemed out of place in the atmosphere.
“Mr. Eun Giyun, who doesn’t care about age or gender. Is seducing men already your hobby at your age?”
He took a deep drag on the filter and asked an unexpected question. Disgust was evident in the gaze fixed on Giyun, who blinked in flustered surprise.
“Just watching what you’re doing now, it’s pretty clear what kind of tactics you usually employ, Mr. Eun Giyun.”
“…”
“Sorry, but I’m different from those bastards. This whole situation is extremely unpleasant. Go find someone else to toy with. Just don’t let me see it.”
For the first time today, Giyun sensed a subtle dissonance in Seungjo’s words and actions. He was more generous to others than expected, but that generosity was entirely voluntary. He was not someone who needed to tolerate others’ rudeness, regardless of who they were.
Contrary to his conclusion, it felt as if he wanted me.
As he said, if he truly found this situation unpleasant, I was gradually becoming certain that I would have been slapped and kicked out of the building long ago.
Assistant Manager Kim’s warning that he was clearly interested in me came back to me. Even if it was just my body, or whatever it was…
I couldn’t deny that the very fact itself, cruelly, made my heart flutter.
“…Do you dislike me?”
I asked, hoping he didn’t.
Instead of answering, Seungjo stared intently at me.
The easygoing demeanor he’d shown at first had vanished without a trace.
Giyun observed him take another drag on his filter. Perhaps the sudden search for a cigarette was an attempt to calm his nerves.
“Judging by your behavior, Eun Giyun, it seems you’ve already accepted being fired and are just letting it all hang out.”
“…”
“But acting like tomorrow doesn’t exist won’t do you any good either.”
A warning unrelated to the question came back.
“You probably won’t believe me, but if you leave quietly now, I won’t fire you. If you make a scene here or overstep your bounds… I won’t press charges. I’ll let it slide.”
So, he was someone who never needed to force forgiveness or compromise in the first place. Especially not with me. What on earth was he trying to gain…
“Got it? Pick up your pass. Before I change my mind.”
Seungjo waved his hand vaguely toward the area under the sofa. Giyun didn’t even glance at the pass he’d tossed aside. Instead, he asked the same question with conviction.
“Sir, do you dislike me?”
“Yes, I do. Do I have to spell it out for you to understand?”
“…”
“If you knew how busy I am, you’d have the sense to leave. After this hour, I’ll consider it obstruction of business and hold you accountable. If you’re loaded, feel free to stand there forever.”
How despicable, resorting to blackmail with money. Giyun swallowed hard at the unhidden irritation in his tone.
Another puff of smoke drifted from his mouth. Seungjo nervously flicked cigarette ash before delivering his final warning.
“Get out before I count to three. I’m warning you—after that, you won’t have a good time. One.”
“…”
“Two.”
For the first time since arriving at the CEO’s office, Giyun, who had been standing near the entrance the whole time, moved.
Contrary to Seungjo’s expectation, Giyun walked not toward the exit, but toward the sofa.
Seungjo asked Giyun with a glance: Are you seriously out of your mind?
Before Seungjo could count to three, Giyun bent down, grabbed Seungjo’s shoulders, and pressed his lips to his.
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