One blink and he was on the fifth floor. His memory cut out sometimes like that. It happened often enough that he never questioned it much. He just figured it was from getting hit in the head so many times growing up.
He walked soundlessly to the front door and finished the delivery in a swift, invisible motion. But the elevator had already descended back to the first floor while he wasn’t looking.
Dooyoung stared anxiously at the elevator panel. It seemed to be climbing up more slowly than usual today. He kept glancing over his shoulder, as though something were chasing him. He had the irrational feeling that Hong Seungpyo was about to come crashing through the front door at any moment.
He fidgeted with the by-now cold soy milk, blinking his thin eyelids. Then an electronic chime cut through the quiet and jolted him back. The heavy elevator doors slid open slowly — and out drifted a faintly metallic smell, and the smell of cigarettes, spreading through the predawn air like mist. And underneath it, the smell of forest. That was probably why it had felt like mist.
Dooyoung forced his eyes open wider — and the moment he registered who was inside the elevator, he dropped what was in his hand. A sharp crack split the air in every direction.
Hong Seungpyo, leaning loosely against the wall, raised his gaze slowly. He swept his heavy-lidded eyes over Dooyoung, then fixed them on the broken glass on the floor.
“Did you steal this?”
His drowsy voice dragged like a warped cassette tape. His movements had the waterlogged sluggishness of soaked cotton. It was a state Dooyoung had seen often enough in Heo Samhyeok. And just then, he became aware of the smell of alcohol clinging to everything around them. Suddenly, the person in front of him frightened him.
Hong Seungpyo tilted his head, puzzled by Dooyoung’s silence.
“Not going to answer? Hmm… you don’t want to?”
He sounded genuinely curious, not pressing. Dooyoung hesitated a moment, then answered carefully.
“It’s… mine……”
“Oh, morning shift?”
Dooyoung gave a short nod and stepped aside to let Hong Seungpyo out. But Hong Seungpyo showed no intention of coming out — he just kept staring at him. After a long moment he finally began to drift out, and walked straight through the shattered glass, crushing it underfoot.
Dooyoung slipped past him and got into the elevator. The doors closed at their own leisurely pace and his nerves frayed with every second. Then a hand slid through the gap. The doors parted again, and there in the center of them stood Hong Seungpyo, leaning at an angle.
“You’re not going to clean this up?”
His words came out slightly slurred, and his indifference was absolute — like an ice pick that could drive straight through living flesh. Dooyoung answered as calmly as he could manage, doing his best not to let the panic show.
“I — I’m going to the security office right now to borrow something to clean it with……”
“Yeah?”
The arm wedged between the doors kept them from closing. Dooyoung bit his lip. Then he felt a thick, adhesive gaze settle on his mouth and quickly let go.
“I have some.”
“What?”
Dooyoung looked up without thinking — and instantly regretted it. Hong Seungpyo’s gaze moved over him slowly, like the second hand of a clock.
“A rag. A broom. I’ve got both.”
He kept stringing together odd sentences in that damp, low voice. Dooyoung stood completely frozen.
A silence came down and pressed heavily on the air. Before Dooyoung could even register that something was wrong, Hong Seungpyo stepped into the elevator in a few purposeful strides and grabbed him by the forearm. Dooyoung instinctively planted his feet and pushed back — but the strength of someone drunk was not something he could easily overcome.
“Why, why are you——!”
He was dragged out of the elevator. His legs tangled and his face hit Hong Seungpyo’s solid chest. He snapped his head up and found Hong Seungpyo’s face right in front of his. The pupils that held not the slightest movement looked like the eyes of a dead man. Or like someone trying to decide whether to tear the wings off a dragonfly they’d been toying with.
In the suffocating silence that compounded by the second, Hong Seungpyo adjusted his grip on Dooyoung’s forearm and began walking toward the front door.
“I — the security guard, if I — ugh——”
The force dragging him along felt nothing like it could belong to another human being. Hong Seungpyo stopped in front of the door, fumbled at the door lock a few times, and got it open. Dooyoung was shoved inside, and the sound of the front door closing made him flinch hard. Locked in an unfamiliar place — every cell in his body stood on end.
“The r——”
“Aah!”
Dooyoung crumpled straight to the floor at the sudden sound of Hong Seungpyo’s voice. Hong Seungpyo had reached toward the direction of the rag and was now scratching the back of his head with a somewhat sheepish expression.
“The rag’s in that room in there. Just grab any towel and use it. There’s a separate cleaning service for the elevator, so you just need to clear up the worst of it.”
“……”
“Are you listening to me?”
Dooyoung had his eyes pressed shut. Hong Seungpyo gave a rather helpless smile. He smoothed his hair back and straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. Then he took Dooyoung by the wrist and led him past the inner door.
Dooyoung resisted like an animal being dragged to slaughter. Then Hong Seungpyo stopped abruptly, and Dooyoung walked face-first into his back. He forgot entirely about the sting in his nose and instead watched for any gap, any opening, that he might bolt through.
Then something was thrust toward his face without warning. Dooyoung reflexively knocked it away. But Hong Seungpyo’s arm, thick as a tree branch, didn’t so much as budge.
“…What are you doing?”
Hong Seungpyo asked in a tone that was almost exasperated.
“Is that all the strength you’ve got? Did you come from somewhere you were worked half to death? You’re too easy. Makes me want to do whatever I want with you.”
At that addition, Dooyoung blinked rapidly. Tears that had pooled to the brim spilled fast and hard. Hong Seungpyo looked at Dooyoung’s wet face in silence for a moment, then waved the towel in his hand back and forth and said quietly:
“You thought I was going to do something to you.”
“……”
“If you’d fought back any more, I actually might have.”
Hong Seungpyo’s lips curved smoothly as he brought the towel up and wiped Dooyoung’s face with it. For someone who had just dragged him in by force, his hands were gentle and careful.
The walk-in closet had no windows. With the light off, it was pitch black. Not even moonlight to lean against. Then something warm brushed briefly against the back of Dooyoung’s neck and withdrew.
Dooyoung snapped his head up and caught Hong Seungpyo’s right arm swinging slightly. There were only the two of them here. No one else could have touched the back of his neck — no one but Hong Seungpyo, unless it was a ghost.
As if one disaster hadn’t been enough, Hong Seungpyo began to undo his belt. The belt sliding through the loops made a sound like a snake dragging itself across the floor.
“Are you watching me undress? Then you’ll have to pay admission. My striptease doesn’t come cheap.”
Dooyoung lifted his gaze from where it had been fixed on Hong Seungpyo’s waist. Hong Seungpyo, undoing the buckle smoothly with one hand, turned a slow, dark smile on him.
“Or you could just take yours off too.”
Dooyoung’s grip tightened on the towel. He felt as though his entire body were being licked clean, slow and sticky. He walked quickly out of the closet and made it to the front door — then stopped, thrown. He had no idea how to open the door handle; it wasn’t a type he’d ever seen before. He grabbed and twisted at it blindly, but it wouldn’t give.
And then. A large shadow fell over him from behind. He hadn’t sensed Hong Seungpyo approaching at all. Dooyoung froze, one hand still on the handle. Hong Seungpyo placed his hand over Dooyoung’s and pressed down firmly. The door opened with a clean click.
“You open it like——”
Dooyoung didn’t wait to hear the rest. He bolted out. He took the emergency stairs two steps at a time and tore away from that place — that house that felt like a den of something dangerous — with everything he had.
Slumped face-down over his desk, Dooyoung stared blankly at the cluster of bandages stuck across his hands. He had fled Hong Seungpyo’s apartment like he was running for his life — but in the end he had gone back and cleaned up the mess. He hadn’t been able to leave it and pretend he hadn’t seen, not knowing what might come back to bite him later.
Dooyoung let out a quiet sigh. Every time he thought about the morning, he wanted to kick something across the room.
“What’s with the sighing?”
Kim Jinho had appeared without him noticing and was stroking the back of Dooyoung’s head as he said it. Dooyoung shrank his neck down at the unwelcome touch.
“So. Shall we talk about our little arrangement now?”
“…?”
“What’s with that innocent face? You’ve got to earn what you owe.”
And just then, it came back to him — the errand from Kim Jinho that he had completely forgotten. This was all Hong Seungpyo’s fault for scrambling his brain. Dooyoung blinked awkwardly, and Kim Jinho’s sparse eyebrows pulled together into a frown.
