Chapter 49
by GideonTaemo’s shoulders shook with laughter as he tilted his head slightly. Then, he pressed his lips gently to the forehead he’d been rubbing all along, before pulling away. Juhyeon thought the heat from the flicked forehead had finally subsided, but now his entire face was burning bright red.
“You like it, though.”
Swallowing a playful laugh, Taemo carefully cupped the back of Juhyeon’s head. He then pulled him closer, allowing Juhyeon to lean fully against his shoulder. Juhyeon relaxed and melted into him. The familiar scent of shampoo filled his nose, with a faint hint of lavender drifting through it. The thought that he must be wearing the same scent made his chest swell with an overwhelming ache.
Juhyeon, who had always been plagued by loneliness, had always been quick to lean on others. But he had never let anyone into his heart and body so completely, without any reservations. He had always carried the fear that anyone could leave him at any moment.
But Lee Taemo was different. And Taemo probably knew that too.
Because he had always known everything about him. That was why Juhyeon decided not to worry tonight.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
“Stop shaking your leg. You’re shaking your luck away.”
Kang-i pushed up his glasses and tapped the table, giving him a pointed look.
“…Yeah, yeah.”
Juhyeon answered half-heartedly, but his leg kept moving. As soon as dawn broke, Taemo had left for work. He had vanished quietly, without any special goodbye or even a trace of his presence, just like always. Juhyeon firmly believed he would return safely, but he couldn’t help his anxiety.
“Ah, Woo Juhyeon. You’re making me nervous.”
“Then just be nervous with me. You’re making a scene by trying to act like you’re the only one who isn’t.”
“…”
Kang Yi-do, who had been pretending to be calm the whole time, finally took off his glasses and set them down. The way his eyes drooped and he chewed his lower lip showed that he was actually pretty anxious.
It was already well past 2 PM. In the meantime, they had sent the letter to Seo Jinyoung as Taemo had instructed and organized all the information they were ready to expose. Now, all that remained was for Lee Taemo to return safely so they could move on to the next step.
Chewing his thumb, Woo Juhyeon tapped the phone screen to wake it up. Lee Pro—the name that had lit up his screen dozens of times a day—was now completely silent.
“I talked to Lee Taemo about this before.”
The heavy silence that had stretched between them snapped. At Kang-i’s sudden words, Juhyeon slowly raised his gaze from his phone.
“If we’re the only ones left… will you come with me?”
“…”
It was a scenario Juhyeon couldn’t even bear to imagine. It was an ending he’d do anything to avoid, even if it meant losing his entire fortune. If they had already discussed this, Taemo was simply making preparations for the worst-case scenario. Still, Juhyeon couldn’t stop his lips from going dry.
“I’m just asking in case. I lied to you too, so you might not want to follow me.”
What was Lee Taemo thinking when he talked about Woo Juhyeon’s future? I have to ask him when he gets back. For that, Lee Taemo absolutely had to return.
“You have to take responsibility for me. Were you trying to get out of it?”
Juhyeon forced a smile, desperate to hide the tremble in his voice. It probably looked stiff and awkward, but it was all he could manage.
“You’re the one who should be taking responsibility,” Lee Taemo replied. “Taemo said you’re better at managing money than I am. He told me to leave all our finances—his and mine—to you.”
Should I thank him for acknowledging how hard I’ve worked to save and scrimp? The sheer absurdity of it all made Juhyeon let out a dry laugh.
“What kind of nonsense is that? What if I just run off with the money? You’re the one who said you’ve been robbed of gold before.”
“Lee Taemo already gave him a good scolding. And if you run, I’ll just have to chase you. I told you, there’s no one I can’t find, right?”
Both of them were trying so hard. Hiding their anxiety, pretending everything was normal. But their voices were already trembling, betraying their nervousness.
“I just hope the money doesn’t tempt you… I hope it never comes down to just the two of us.”
“That will never happen. Lee Taemo’s always worrying for nothing. Not a single one of his predictions has ever come true. This time… will be no different.”
Despite the air conditioner blasting cool air, Juhyeon’s palms were slick with sweat. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, trying to swallow his anxiety.
“…You’re right.”
Juhyeon’s lower lip trembled as he forced the words out.
Eat on time, Taemo had told him. So Juhyeon had even ordered delivery. He had been too frantic to even know if the food was going down his throat or into his nose, but he had followed Taemo’s instructions to the letter.
It was almost eight o’clock. The sun had long since set, and the daylight had vanished. This was the hour when Lee Taemo’s shadow could no longer be found outside. Unable to sit still any longer, Juhyeon paced the hallway, phone clutched in his hand. How many times had he walked the length of the karaoke corridor?
A sudden crash echoed from Room 4.
The door swung open, and Kang-i burst out, his face flushed.
“Let’s go!”
Lee Taemo had contacted them. Juhyeon hurried after Kang-i, his phone still silent in his hand. He felt a twinge of disappointment, but getting to Lee Taemo was the priority right now.
Even the usually calm Kang-i was flustered today. He was so rushed he’d even forgotten to lock the karaoke room door.
“Ah, shit. The door! Woo Juhyeon, get behind the wheel!”
Kang-i practically threw the car keys at Juhyeon before running back down to lock up. Juhyeon gripped the keys tightly as he hurried up the stairs. He didn’t even need to check which car it was. Parked at the entrance was the familiar delivery truck they often used when going to dispose of bodies with Lee Taemo.
Juhyeon scrambled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Kang Yi-do hopped into the passenger seat just in time, and the truck sped out of the alley. Juhyeon stepped on the gas, turning the wheel as Kang-i directed.
After driving for what felt like an eternity, they reached a secluded recreational forest. The moment they arrived, Kang-i gestured wildly for Juhyeon to stop and threw open the passenger door to jump out. Screeech! Startled, Juhyeon slammed on the brakes.
“Hey, you’re gonna get hurt!”
“Get out, now!”
The two practically tumbled out of the car and sprinted down a narrow trail. Before long, a concrete building that looked wildly out of place in the serene forest came into view. Kang-i strode purposefully toward the keypad and began punching in a code.
—Yes.
“Kang Yi-seon. I’m here for the summons.”
“Please look into the lens for three seconds.”
Following the stiff voice from the intercom, Kang-i stared intently into the lens. Standing behind him, Juhyeon was too busy scanning the massive building with a tense gaze.
“Companion confirmed.”
“You have to do it too.”
“…”
Startled, Juhyeon stared blankly at the intercom’s flashing red light. He felt a strange sensation, as if someone’s gaze was watching him from the other side. A trickle of sweat ran down his back.
“Verification complete.”
“Let’s go.”
Click. The automatic door slid open slowly. At the same moment, Kang-i grabbed Juhyeon’s wrist and pulled him inside.
The interior was breathtakingly vast and opulent. Unlike the silent exterior, the place was bustling with people. A massive chandelier cast a brilliant glow over the space, and soft music flowed through the air.
“Wh-What is this place?”
Lee Taemo is here? In a place like this? Juhyeon’s wary gaze swept over the building. Kang-i just kept running down the hallway without a word of explanation. Despite the loud, frantic thud of their footsteps in the otherwise calm atmosphere, no one spared them a glance, and no one tried to stop them. It was as if they were invisible. The eerie vibe sent a chill down Juhyeon’s spine.
As they rounded a corner, they came across a row of private rooms. At what looked like a reception desk, a woman in a suit was checking a monitor. Kang-i rushed straight to her.
“Lee Taemo! Is Lee Taemo here?”
Unlike Kang-i, who was urgently pressing her for answers, the woman remained calm. Without a word, she glanced at the monitor and pointed somewhere. Juhyeon’s eyes followed her gesture.
It was the room marked with the number 3. That must mean Lee Taemo was inside. Juhyeon and Kang-i rushed toward it without a word.
When they burst through the door, a fairly spacious room came into view. The first thing they saw was a bed, and sitting on it was Lee Taemo.
“……Hyung.”
The moment their eyes met, a troubled expression flitted across Taemo’s face, which was still wrapped in bandages around his side. Even his slightly furrowed brow bore a sharp, clean cut.
“I told you not to. I guess you went ahead and contacted them anyway.”
“Ugh, we were so damn scared.”
Kang-i let out a breath of relief and headed for the bed. But Juhyeon remained frozen in place, his eyes frantically scanning Taemo’s body. How badly did they refuse to let Lee Taemo go? There wasn’t a single spot on his exposed skin without a wound. Juhyeon traced the fresh, crimson bloodstains that seeped between the old, faded scars.
A long, deep scar, like a knife wound, stretched across his shoulder and collarbone, with smaller ones scattered across the nape of his neck. His elbow was badly scraped, and a large bruise had formed on his forearm, where the skin had split open. Juhyeon didn’t even need to look at his side, where he was currently wrapping a bandage, to know it was just as bad.
“…”
Even as Juhyeon’s trembling gaze swept over him, Taemo simply watched him, his expression unreadable. Juhyeon’s heart hammered against his ribs, just as it had the first time he’d seen a corpse. His mouth went bone-dry, and his hands shook uncontrollably.
“What did you tell him that’s got him acting like this?” Kang-i asked.
“The message isn’t the problem,” Juhyeon choked out. “The problem is the state you’re in.”
His voice caught in his throat, making it hard to speak. Kang-i had voiced the words Juhyeon couldn’t, and while it brought a momentary sense of relief, his heart still refused to calm down.
“The contract. Did you tear it up?”
“I ripped it to shreds right in front of him. So, Kang Yi-seon, you’re unemployed now.”
Even while talking to Kang-i about the company, Taemo’s gaze remained fixed on Juhyeon. They stood far apart, yet their eyes never left each other.
He was the one in danger, Juhyeon thought. So why is he looking at me like that? Even Taemo’s dry expression couldn’t hide the raw worry etched into his features.
A surge of emotion threatened to overwhelm Juhyeon. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting back tears. Just as he felt the heat rising in his eyelids, Taemo slowly reached out.
“I’m not going to collapse. Come here and sit.”
A faint smile touched Taemo’s lips, as if to reassure him. His fingertips still waited, open and inviting. Rough and calloused, yet his touch was always so gentle, his warmth so familiar. Juhyeon was just glad he hadn’t lost these things.
“…Does it hurt?”
Only then did Juhyeon finally take a step. Once he started moving, his urgency took over, and he practically ran to Taemo. When he was close enough to reach, Taemo grasped Juhyeon’s trembling hand and pulled him in. His warmth was exactly as Juhyeon remembered.
“It doesn’t really hurt. It’s just… been a while since I’ve been beaten up this badly. It feels weird.”
“You’re so badly hurt… How bad is it here?”
Juhyeon, who had been pulled forward without any resistance, came to a halt between Taemo’s legs. Standing this close, the heavy scent of blood and disinfectant wafted from him, thick enough to choke Juhyeon. Yet Taemo merely shrugged, tilting his head.
“It’s just a big wound, nothing serious…”
Before Taemo could even finish his sentence, Juhyeon threw his arms around him in a fierce hug, completely forgetting Kang-i was standing right there. All the emotions he’d been suppressing came crashing down.
“Fuck, stop pretending you’re not hurt!” Juhyeon cried. “How can you be okay? Do you even know how you look right now? How can you act like you’re fine when you’re in this state?”
“Woo Juhyeon, you’re talking back to me now?”
Taemo let out a disbelieving scoff, but his hand gently patted Juhyeon’s back. Juhyeon had been so terrified he’d never feel this touch again. Taemo had promised he would return, even if it cost him his life, but no one could ever be sure about such things.
Juhyeon tightened his arms around Taemo’s neck. Despite the pain from his injuries, Taemo only smiled. Then, he spoke to Kang-i, who was standing a few paces away.
“This one’s a real dog.”
“That sounds a bit harsh. You should’ve called him a puppy instead. He’s still young, after all.”
Taemo and Kang-i exchanged pointless, lighthearted jokes. It was their usual banter, but both were clearly trying too hard.
Heat rushed to my eyelids. As Taemo chuckled softly and stroked my back up and down, the tears I’d been holding back finally burst forth.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t come. Dongwoo hyung… he went away like that and never came back. I thought I was good at waiting, but I wasn’t…”
“…”
“I could handle disappearing without knowing. But waiting while knowing… it was truly…”
Taemo, who had been listening in silence, slowly pulled back.
Not wanting him to see her face as she cried so unsightly, Juhyeon tightened her grip on the back of his neck. But in the end, she was pushed away by his touch.
“If you died, I would have… I would have killed you with my own hands, I swear…”
Even as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face, Taemo laughed.
“You can’t say things like that here. You’ll get scouted.”
“…”
Despite his words, the hand cupping Juhyeon’s tear-streaked cheek was trembling slightly.
Perhaps the one who had been most terrified all this time was Lee Taemo. The thought of him enduring that unimaginable time alone made her tears fall uncontrollably.
Juhyeon sobbed like a child, his cries loud and unrestrained, while Taemo chuckled softly, a smile playing on his lips as if he found the sight genuinely amusing. For so long, Juhyeon had been unable to weep freely, and Taemo had forgotten how to smile sincerely. Yet here they were, finally pouring out their emotions before each other.
“You’re a mess,” Taemo said gently. “Stop crying.”
He carefully pulled Juhyeon, who was still standing and weeping, into his arms. He held him close, his chest pressed against Juhyeon’s, so tightly that Juhyeon could feel the rapid thrumming of his heart.
Juhyeon’s eyes were sore from all the crying. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, sipping the water Taemo had given him. After roughly finishing the bandaging and pulling on a shirt, Taemo stood up. He leaned over, clutching his side, and opened the nightstand drawer. When he straightened up, he was holding a manila envelope.
“I found them.”
Kang-i quickly took the envelope and rummaged through its contents. His face was flushed with excitement, making Juhyeon curious about what was inside. Gnawing on the rim of his paper cup, Juhyeon stole a glance. Kang-i stepped closer to him and turned the envelope upside down.
“Our real names.”
Out fell a stack of documents and two ID cards. These were the real names of the two men who had gone by Kim Minsu, Kang-i, or other aliases to deceive others.
Lee Taemo, Kang Yi-seon.
“…”
Juhyeon ran his fingers over the sturdy plastic of the ID cards. While he had been naively following around thugs and focusing only on saving money, these two had even discarded their names. The thought of what they must have endured, and what they must have felt while dealing with Seo Jinyoung, made his chest tighten with a hot, aching sensation.
“We’re out of the game now, so no one’s going to have our backs here. No backup. You need to keep your head on straight. If you try to screw that bastard over and it goes south, you’re going straight to jail.”
“If one of us gets caught, we all go down together. We’re a team, right?”
Kang-i’s tone was deliberately playful. The corners of Juhyeon’s mouth, still chewing on the rim of his paper cup, twitched upward in a faint smile.
“I guess so. We can just cram into a tiny cell together.”
Taemo straightened his clothes and stepped in front of Juhyeon. Then, he slowly pulled the paper cup from Juhyeon’s lips.
“Stop it.” Taemo’s lips moved as if he were scolding him. His fierce expression and deep scowl were menacing, yet an odd tenderness seeped through his words. He gently brushed his thumb over Juhyeon’s swollen eye, then gave a slight nod.
Only after gathering their IDs and paperwork could the three finally leave the sterile, hospital-like space.
Juhyeon had heard that Lee Taemo and Kang-i had spent a lot of time here, yet not a single person came to see them off or even spoke a word. The hallway, now far more crowded and chaotic than before, remained a gauntlet of silence as they crossed it. Only a few persistent, staring eyes followed them from behind.
“…”
Everywhere Juhyeon turned, he met the blatant gazes of strangers. The unfamiliarity of the situation made his shoulders hunch instinctively.
Just then, Taemo, who had been walking half a step ahead, stopped. He shifted to Juhyeon’s outer side, and Kang-i pressed close to the other, flanking Juhyeon on both sides.
Kang-i leaned in, his voice a low whisper.
“I’ll drive the truck, so you take Lee Taemo.”
Juhyeon started to nod in agreement, but before he could, Taemo’s hand reached out from behind him. The hand, sweeping around as if to cradle the back of his head, gently covered Juhyeon’s ear. Juhyeon couldn’t tell if it was a silent plea for him not to whisper, or if Taemo was simply blocking out the rest of the world. But the moment Taemo’s hand touched him, Juhyeon was struck by the strange illusion that he could hear nothing but Taemo’s breath.
“Drive carefully. Call me when you arrive.”
“I will.”
Kang-i waved and climbed into the truck. It was a miracle no one had stolen it—the engine was still running, and the driver’s side door was wide open. Then again, Juhyeon figured anyone else in this building would have been too preoccupied to care.
The small truck rattled as it bounced down the road. After watching it for a moment, the two of them finally climbed into the expensive car. Juhyeon had driven luxury cars plenty of times before, but this time, his nerves were shot. Even with the streetlights on, he drove out of the forest retreat with his senses on high alert.
“What, is someone going to kill you if you scratch the car? Just relax,” Taemo chuckled, watching Juhyeon lean so close to the steering wheel he was practically glued to it, his eyes scanning the road.
Juhyeon didn’t even have the mental energy to retort. He focused on the surroundings, cautiously maneuvering the car out of the forest. Right now, the safety of the expensive vehicle wasn’t his priority—it was Taemo in the passenger seat. Every time the car jolted, Taemo’s brow furrowed in silent annoyance.
Juhyeon gripped the steering wheel, his palms sweating, until they finally pulled off the dirt road. Only then did he relax and lean back into his seat as they merged onto a busier street. By now, the truck Kang-i had taken would have reached the karaoke bar long ago.
“You’re a good driver.”
“I told you, I made a killing doing driving gigs.”
Juhyeon had gotten his license the moment he turned eighteen. Dongwoo had always insisted it was essential for making money. Thanks to that, he’d frequently driven all over the country, earning a generous daily wage and meal allowance. While it was exhausting to drive all day and ferry around drunk seniors every dawn, he’d still enjoyed watching his bank account grow.
“Driving all day was tough, but it paid well. When they got drunk, they’d get all arrogant and open their wallets wide.”
“What a shame. I don’t have a wallet on me.”
“You… you don’t have to pay me, hyung.”
Juhyeon would never have to take money from Lee Taemo again. Whether he was asked to dispose of a body, wipe up blood, or run a simple errand like buying cigarettes—Lee Taemo was no longer someone Juhyeon needed to be paid by.
Taemo let out a soft chuckle at the word hyung, which still felt awkward on Juhyeon’s tongue. He had been leaning back against the seat with his arms crossed, but now he slowly turned toward the driver’s seat.
“If you’re such a good driver, can you do it with one hand?”
Taemo’s fingertips brushed against Juhyeon’s wrist, which was still gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. Tap, tap. After a few light touches to keep him from startling, Taemo’s hand closed around the back of Juhyeon’s.
“…I can. Totally.”
Juhyeon relaxed his right hand, letting it fall loosely.
The large, warm hand that had been covering the back of his hand now slid between his fingers. Taemo locked their fingers tightly together and stroked Juhyeon’s knuckles with his thumb. The heat spread across the skin that had grown cold from the air conditioner.
Only then did the tension that had filled Juhyeon’s entire body completely drain away, replaced by a sense of relief.
After arriving home, he kept following Taemo around like a shadow. When Taemo reached for a glass of water, Juhyeon was already there, pouring it for him. When Taemo crossed his arms to grab the hem of his T-shirt to change, Juhyeon even helped pull the shirt down for him. He’d stepped in to help, worried about putting any strain on Taemo’s body, but by the time he realized what he was doing, he caught the bewildered look on Taemo’s face.
“You’re a bit rough when you take off my clothes.”
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