But before Yeonwoo could get out the word “Master —” Kang Jihyeok’s mouth opened first.
“How old are you?”
“I, I’m twenty-one.”
At that, Kang Jihyeok burst out laughing. Loudly enough that the people seated nearby glanced over.
“You really just came into the world, huh.”
That’s not quite right. Just how fiercely had he lived through these past twenty-odd years. Of course, Kang Jihyeok had no way of knowing his past — but it still stung a little.
“But what am I going to do about this?”
Is he about to say I’m too young and he doesn’t want me? That can’t happen. Should he grab onto his pant leg and cling? Or should he mention that he’d already booked a room? He knew he couldn’t afford to look too cheap — but the thought of what would happen if he went back with nothing was even more frightening.
If I knew it’d come to this, I should’ve listened to Assemblyman Cha and not worn underwear. The regret came crashing in like a wave. Even if it made him look cheap and vulgar, he should’ve just gone up to the hotel room with him from the start.
Yeonwoo bit down hard on his lip to hold back his tears. It felt like they could spill over at any second. No — I can’t cry. If he did, it would be the same as crossing a river he could never come back from. Every person Yeonwoo had known up until now had clicked their tongues and snapped that they couldn’t stand the sight of him whenever he shed a tear. And then they’d swung their hands and feet without mercy. So he couldn’t cry. To keep the tears from falling, Yeonwoo bit down hard on his lip.
“We’re the same age.”
Yeonwoo had been about to say something along the lines of I’m sorry, please give me one more chance, please believe I can do this — but he bit his lip and stopped.
This can’t be. I don’t believe it. Only then did he understand Kang Jihyeok’s flat reaction. Of course, Kang Jihyeok looked at least ten years older than him. But no matter what he looked like on the outside, on the inside he was twenty-one. The same age. And he’d been calling someone his own age hyung. Of course he’d be baffled. If he put himself in that position, he’d be baffled too. To think that he, of all people, was the kind of idiot who judged purely on appearances!
The reason Kang Jihyeok had gone out of his way to tell him we’re the same age was clearly a hint to correct the way he addressed him. If they were the same age, there was only one appropriate way to call him.
Yeonwoo thought that Kang Jihyeok was actually quite warm, despite how he looked. And he was completely different from the you fucking disgusting pervert he’d been imagining all this time.
“Ji, Jihyeok —”
“Twelve years apart.”
“……cle.”
Yeonwoo desperately prayed that Kang Jihyeok hadn’t noticed the awkward pause in the middle.
“Ji, Jihyeok-ajeossi.”
He quickly corrected himself. He knew that something like sensei or sir — or even just hyung — would’ve been more fitting than ajeossi. But having already let Jihyeok — slip from his lips, he couldn’t exactly switch to something else now.
Yeonwoo turned up the corners of his mouth as if he had no idea what had just happened. But to anyone watching, it was clearly the most awkward smile imaginable. He wanted to turn back time. To ten minutes ago — no, five. No, even ten seconds would’ve done. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself think something so absurd. No matter how old he looked, there was no way he could be the same age as him. Yeonwoo chewed at his lip and hung his head.
Please, please!
He just wanted Kang Jihyeok to let it go. Or — actually — he’d rather he got angry. Because then he could throw himself flat on the floor and beg for forgiveness. Begging was something he was genuinely good at.
“Hey, kid.”
“Y, yes?”
“You can call me whatever you want.”
Whatever I want…? So he’s not angry? Yeonwoo stared, dazed, as the corner of Kang Jihyeok’s mouth curved up softly.
“You don’t have to be so tense. Are you scared I’m going to eat you alive or something?”
Huh? Wasn’t he planning to…?
The question rose up in him, but Yeonwoo swallowed it back down out of habit. Kang Jihyeok was leaning at an angle against the bar, watching him steadily. Meeting that hot, intense gaze, his whole body flushed with heat on its own. One small mercy was that Kang Jihyeok didn’t seem to find him annoying or irritating. Under that burning stare, Yeonwoo was so tense that his eyes just kept darting around.
“You don’t look anything like your dad.”
That was something he couldn’t deny. There wasn’t a single thing about Assemblyman Cha and Yeonwoo that resembled each other. If there had been even one, the opposition and the press that kept tabs on him would’ve descended in an instant. Even knowing they shared the same blood, it was hard to believe — and to anyone who didn’t know, there was nothing there at all, enough to make them assume he was adopted without a second thought.
Yeonwoo looked nothing like Assemblyman Cha’s thick, overall mean-looking face. Light brown hair, skin so pale you could see the veins beneath it, eyes that tapered down gently at the corners. If anything, he looked quietly, mournfully beautiful. The problem — if it was a problem — was that his appearance stirred something ugly in people. That’s why someone as lowly as himself had ended up snared by him, he supposed.
Imagining Yeonwoo’s mournful eyes flushing red at the corners, Kang Jihyeok licked his lips without thinking. Meeting him in person only made him like what he saw even more. How is it possible to get any more worked up than this? The bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously, the intermittent trembling at the corners of his eyes, the lip he was chewing on out of fear — all of it was exactly to his taste.
It was also pretty cute how he’d taken the bait on a joke Kang Jihyeok had tossed out because he was too tense, and called him Jihyeok — like that.
If Cha Yeonwoo had understood his own situation and played it coy and cunning, Kang Jihyeok might have cooled off. But watching him sit quietly, as if resigning himself to fate, glancing over at him every now and then — his mouth went bone dry with excitement. He genuinely wanted to chew and suck on every inch of him. And then swallow him whole in one gulp. How sweet would he taste? Kang Jihyeok pulled his chair closer and leaned in toward Yeonwoo.
The more he looked, the more astonishing it was. How could something like this come out of a slippery, worthless piece of work like Assemblyman Cha? Now he understood why he’d been so openly showing Yeonwoo off to everyone.
He’d looked down on the lowlifes who’d been gossiping about Assemblyman Cha’s illegitimate child, clicking his tongue at how pathetic they were — but he was no different from any of them. No, if anything, he was worse. Because he’d actually gotten his hands on him.
And he had absolutely no intention of letting go.
“I, I’ve been told that a lot.”
That’s a compliment, right? Yeonwoo had never once thought of himself as good-looking. But objectively speaking, he knew that Assemblyman Cha’s looks were far from anything praiseworthy. So… he figured that openly saying he looked nothing like him was a compliment. But in case his read was wrong, he decided not to ask.
Kang Jihyeok was gazing at him again, silent, steady. Yeonwoo was seized with a sense of urgency that he had to do something. He was afraid of the silence stretching on — and the image of Kang Jihyeok getting up and leaving because he found him boring was even more terrifying. He wanted to break this silence, somehow. But saying do you want to go up to the room? right now was too soon. They hadn’t even been together for thirty minutes, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.
“Um, um…. Would you like a drink?”
Nothing loosened the mood quite like alcohol. That was probably why Assemblyman Cha had chosen the lounge as the meeting spot too. It was obviously his way of telling him to have a drink with Kang Jihyeok and warm things up. Having lived with him for over thirteen years, Yeonwoo could read Assemblyman Cha’s intentions without having to be told directly.
“Sure, why not? Do you want one too, kid?”
The way Kang Jihyeok said kid — his voice was low and heavy. Kid — it was such a toe-curling thing to be called. Yeonwoo was afraid he might get used to that warmth, as unremarkable as it was. Since he was twelve years older, calling him kid wasn’t necessarily strange from his perspective. It might’ve been the most natural thing in the world for Kang Jihyeok. So…
I shouldn’t read into it.
If he mistakenly thought Kang Jihyeok actually cared for him and let himself hope… it could end up hurting him even more later. So he had to nip that feeling in the bud before it ever got the chance to grow.
“Yes, I’d like some too.”
“Do you drink?”
He didn’t. He’d never so much as touched alcohol in his life. Same with coffee. But he’d already made the mistake of calling him Jihyeok — just a moment ago — he couldn’t also admit he didn’t drink. On top of that, he was the one who’d suggested drinks in the first place. He couldn’t very well follow that up with oh, you go ahead and drink, I’ll just watch! I can’t drink! Besides, alcohol and water were basically the same thing, weren’t they? He planned to think of it as slightly bitter water and get it down.
“Yes.”
No, that wasn’t enough. Yeonwoo quickly added.
“I’m a good drinker.”
“A good drinker?”
Yeonwoo gave a firm nod. He didn’t actually know whether he could hold his liquor or not — but surely he’d manage… right? As much as he hated to admit it, Assemblyman Cha and all his children could handle their alcohol well. Since half of that man’s blood ran through his veins, the odds were high that he could too. So this was a faith grounded in reason!
“Then pick something you want to drink — go ahead. And while you’re at it, pick something for me too.”
