Whatever had happened back then, the outcome wouldn’t have changed. Whatever his younger brother had done at that time, killing that man was his own responsibility. It was something he’d always vaguely thought about, and he had simply chosen the lesser option of slipping away quietly — for the sake of his brother, who would have been left alone. Though of course, things turned out the way they did….
Hyung, I, I….
If you’re only going to keep saying that kind of thing, get lost.
…….
How many times do I have to—!
…….
How long are you going to keep being so pathetic. How long do you think I can keep looking after you!
He’d known it was harsh, but he’d thought it needed to be said. And it was something he’d always said. Under the pretense of worrying about his brother.
Stop acting like an idiot.
That was the last of it.
The last words he’d ever said to his brother.
Not knowing that it would be the last moment he’d ever see him. Simply because he was the older brother. Under the excuse of being worried about him, he’d condemned that boy. Using it as his absolution — telling himself he was allowed to.
**
His brother had taken his own life.
They said he jumped from the school rooftop.
On the note his brother had left behind, these words were written:
I’m sorry for being this kind of little brother.
Returned to the present, Moon Heesung sat on the edge of the creaking bed in his goshiwon and lowered his head. Sunlight filtering through the small rectangular window — barely a handspan wide — settled on the back of his head. That brilliant light fell over him like darkness.
In the end, there had been nothing he’d protected.
Even what he’d believed he was protecting, he’d lost by his own hand. A pathetic, wretched human being. That was precisely the right description for himself. It felt like he’d been hit squarely, and Moon Heesung couldn’t move. Whether he’d masturbated in front of Yoo Sinju or done whatever else — Moon Heesung was a man who could withstand any humiliation — but in that moment alone, a deep and hollow desolation settled over him.
Moon Heesung buried his face in his hands and let out a heavy sigh. For the first time in a very long time, he felt exhausted.
**
“Ugh!”
Meanwhile, Yoo Sinju shot up from his bed with a sharp cry, and as the memories of the night before rushed back to him, he was slamming his fist down into the mattress. He must have been drunk. No — he knew he hadn’t actually been drunk, but what happened last night hadn’t been purely by his own will. There had definitely been something unconscious at work, and he’d been swept along by the strange atmosphere between them. In the end, the biggest unconscious act of all had been that he couldn’t hold back and had gone looking for Park Ian’s van.
After that, he’d been completely clear-headed. He’d been suddenly furious, and the only thought in his head had been that he wanted to screw Moon Heesung over somehow. On top of that, seeing Park Ian sitting astride Moon Heesung’s lap inside the van had sent his mind into a boil. The image of Park Ian all disheveled, and Moon Heesung with his belt buckle half undone…
Yoo Sinju ruffled his hair and stepped into the bathroom. And before turning on the shower, he held up his open hand and stared quietly down at it. It felt like he could still feel the sensation of the cock that had filled his palm. It was rare for a man’s cock to look that clean. The color had been nice too, and the hair well-kept. And warm…. Without realizing it, Yoo Sinju swallowed and brought his hand up to the tip of his nose. There was no way the scent would still be there, but it was an unconscious gesture. He sniffed for that faint, particular smell — then caught himself and screwed his face up in disgust.
“God….”
Struck by how pathetic he looked, he cursed, shook his hand out, and turned on the shower. Right. If it was going to bother him this much, better to keep him close and torment him. He’d admit it. That Moon Heesung was on his mind. He clearly found him irritating and couldn’t stand him, but he’d admit that he was on his mind.
So instead, he planned to keep him nearby and make it miserable enough that he’d leave on his own two feet. He wanted to make that arrogant bastard who’d said he’d do anything regret it. And when you thought about it, the man was the one walking into this willingly — there was nothing to stop. Just make it as unpleasant as he wanted, wasn’t that all there was to it.
Yoo Sinju laughed to himself as if it were all beneath him, and deliberately hummed a little tune as he washed up, acting as though everything was perfectly fine. The strange, heightened sensation lingering over him was uncomfortable — but he forced himself to ignore it.
Then, at the sound of the door lock from somewhere down the hall, the corner of his lips curled up without permission. Disgustingly punctual. He’d give him that. Wherever the man had come from and however he’d gotten here, he was good at his job — he’d give him that much. He was listening intently to the sounds of someone moving around out there when he slipped and drove his back into the faucet.
“Ow!”
A cry tore out of him at the pain stabbing through his spine.
“Son of a bitch…. That really hurts.”
Rubbing his back, Yoo Sinju fought back the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes and glared at the door. This was all Moon Heesung’s fault. All of it. Every bit of it.
Yoo Sinju threw the shampoo bottle in a fit of pointless temper and stormed out of the bathroom. The moment he stepped out, he came face to face with Moon Heesung walking into the bedroom. He came over with a frown on his face and took hold of Yoo Sinju’s arm.
“Are you hurt somewhere?”
He must have heard the scream from inside the tub — he looked genuinely concerned. Every time Yoo Sinju saw him, he thought of him as a man with no expression — but in moments like this, he wore a different face entirely. At first, that had irritated him, made him feel sick to his stomach. But gradually it was starting to stir something strange in him. A peculiar sense of superiority? Something like that was gnawing at him.
“I’ve been meaning to say something for a while, by the way.”
“…….”
“Who told you to talk to me so casually?”
Yoo Sinju said it carelessly, looking down at Moon Heesung with an air of ease, and Moon Heesung paused for a moment before answering with his usual composure.
“…If it bothers you, I’ll speak more formally.”
At the perfectly unperturbed response, Yoo Sinju let out a faint laugh.
“Since you’ve decided to work under me, keep the professional and the personal properly separate.”
“…….”
“It’s not like you and I were ever close enough to act like we go way back, anyway, right?”
Slouched lazily on the bed with his legs crossed, the look he cast upward was probing, provocative. As if to say — don’t go mistaking those days for fond memories.
Moon Heesung held his gaze in silence for a moment, then gave a quiet nod. At the easy compliance, Yoo Sinju let out a thin, dismissive smile, waved his hand, and gave his next command carelessly.
“Get my clothes first.”
He moved naturally into the walk-in closet and returned with one of the outfits the stylists had prepared in advance for the week. Then he began setting out the premium salad he’d brought up as breakfast. Yoo Sinju watched Moon Heesung’s profile in silence as he quietly got everything ready. Watching him, he unconsciously twitched his cheek. He’d thought that no matter how shameless the man was, he’d at least show some trace of embarrassment when he saw his face today. But contrary to expectations, that composed expression was exactly the same as always. Not a crack, not even the smallest one — that unshakeable front kept poking at Yoo Sinju’s nerves.
He’d stroked himself fully hard right in front of me, masturbated right there — being embarrassed about it is the bare minimum, isn’t it. On top of that, he came the moment I touched him. Any normal person — any person at all — would naturally find it too mortifying to even make eye contact the next day. But Moon Heesung was perfectly calm, as if nothing had happened the day before. That damn poker face of his. Yesterday he’d been panting away with that obscene look on his face.
Yoo Sinju bit down hard and glared with irritation at his own cock starting to respond again below. What the hell is it reacting to, this insane thing. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he gave himself a sharp tap and slammed the open bedroom door shut.
**
Yoo Sinju walked into the company with one hand braced on his lower back. He needed to sort out his schedule, and he had to talk with his team about the script for the next film project. On top of that, there was a meeting between the company and a rep from a new advertising brand they’d been approached about. There were no filming schedules, but the whole day was packed with things that would grind him down at the office. Under normal circumstances he would have skipped a few of them, but he’d thrown another tantrum over the Moon Heesung situation with Director Cha, and had no choice but to behave himself this time.
“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
Whether he’d noticed the way he was holding his back, or had seen him wincing the whole way in the car, Moon Heesung asked quietly as they entered the building. And knowing that Moon Heesung’s attention had been subtly on his back the whole time, Yoo Sinju bit back the twitch at the corner of his lips and answered.
“Mind your own business.”
He tossed it out indifferently and walked ahead. Walking with his back to Moon Heesung, Yoo Sinju couldn’t quite suppress the small laugh that pushed its way up — then felt his back sting again and pulled a face. Then he passed through the open-plan offices filled with partitions and made his way to the only room with an actual door, about to walk in without knocking — when through the half-open gap, a familiar figure caught his eye. Yoo Sinju immediately turned his head toward Moon Heesung, who was following behind.
“Wait outside.”
He said it coldly and stepped straight into Director Cha’s office. The moment he walked in, he found himself locking eyes directly with Park Ian, who was visibly worked up. The second Park Ian spotted Yoo Sinju, he launched himself at him. Director Cha immediately pulled the office blinds shut, cutting off the view from outside.
“Park Ian!”
Director Cha barked out, but Park Ian didn’t flinch — he came at him aggressively.
“What did you think you were doing?”
Park Ian demanded without any preamble, but Yoo Sinju showed no trace of surprise, just slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and answered with ease.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean—! You—!”
“You?”
At the insolent address, Yoo Sinju tilted the corner of his mouth up crookedly and narrowed his eyes. No matter how angry he was, they were separated by more than ten years of debut seniority. It was a world with a strict hierarchy — and more important than hierarchy was position. The measure of success, the position one had reached — that was law in this world. Which meant this was nothing short of a puppy trying to take a swipe at a tiger.
