Chapter 57
by GideonSeo Jinyoung woke up. He had regained consciousness, but unfortunately, the place he opened his eyes to would be hell. Now, Seo Jinyoung couldn’t take a single step out of his hospital room without help, and even if he wanted to speak, all he could manage was a low rumble in his throat. How much despair must he be feeling, his circumstances having changed so drastically overnight?
In a situation like this, his family would be his only support, but to them, Seo Jinyoung would be a burden. After all, the debt that had accumulated under his name in just a few days was staggering. Still, with so many eyes watching, they couldn’t afford to give up on him, yet as he shared their blood, abandoning him wouldn’t be an easy choice either.
That’s why it was necessary to help them sever even that last remaining tie. So that his family, too, could lend a hand in finally tightening the noose around Seo Jinyoung’s neck.
Juhyeon flipped through a magazine again, cutting out letters. This time, the message was short, so it didn’t take long. He enclosed the very article Seo Jinyoung had been preparing to push his own younger sibling into misery.
Let’s save this card for later. It’ll definitely be more effective then.
Lee Taemo’s choice had been correct once again. This paper would play a decisive role in completely isolating Seo Jinyoung, who had no one left but his family. He also included printouts of the emails and messages where Seo Jinyoung had been feeding the reporter information about his sibling and directing the story’s angle.
This should be enough to make them realize Seo Jinyoung had been plotting behind their backs. It would give his family the courage they needed to finally let him go.
G I V E U P N O W.
The message, filling a single sheet of A4 paper, consisted of just one line. After pasting the final period onto the page, Juhyeon handed it to Taemo. Taemo, wearing gloves, slid it into a manila envelope and sealed it. The front of the envelope was simply marked with Seo Jinyoung’s name and his hospital room number.
“So this is what it’s used for. This will hit him several times harder.”
“The best things are always saved for last,” Taemo replied.
Juhyeon nodded silently at Taemo’s words. He then busied himself by searching for Seo Jinyoung’s name on his laptop, checking for any new updates.
Though Seo Jinyoung was bedridden, the investigation was still proceeding. He would have to attend the trial, even if it meant being wheeled in on a chair. But would Seo Jinyoung even be able to offer a proper defense?
He recalled the sight of the piece of tongue being cruelly crushed in Lee Taemo’s hand. How long had Taemo waited for the moment he could cut out that silver tongue while Seo Jinyoung was by his side? He remembered how Taemo had observed the entire scene without blinking, even as Seo Jinyoung glared at him with bloodshot eyes, contorted in agony.
“Should we go visit him together?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
Juhyeon, who had been checking a new article, quickly shut his laptop. Seeing Juhyeon react as if he’d been waiting for the invitation, Taemo’s lips curled into a smile.
“I want to savor you, but you keep wafting such a delicious scent… It’s a problem.”
Juhyeon’s face flushed at the whisper, Taemo licking his lower lip.
“Ah, stop saying weird things and get up, hurry.”
Pretending not to hear him, I gently nudged him forward, keeping my head bowed low.
The two of us headed to the hospital where Seo Jinyoung was admitted. As soon as we stepped off the elevator on the VIP floor, we could hear a commotion. The noise was coming from right outside Seo Jinyoung’s room.
Taemo and Juhyeon stopped a short distance away to take in the scene. A group of three or four people, who looked like reporters, were facing off against bodyguards and secretaries.
“Leave now.”
“We’re here because you said you’d get back to us but never did. Just let us leave our business cards.”
“No. Go.”
“If you won’t agree to an interview, we’ll assume you’re okay with us proceeding with the production, all right?”
I’d read articles about how reporters were constantly trying to get in, forcing the hospital to block their access. This time, it seemed to be a production crew for a current affairs program.
To them, Seo Jinyoung must be an irresistible target. The son of a National Assembly member who had committed abuse of power, drunk driving, drug use, and even murder. The people around him had either died or vanished. He was the very image of a villain straight out of a movie.
“We understand you’ve hired a lawyer from a law firm. Are you still maintaining your innocence?”
“I’m calling the police. Leave before you make this worse.”
“The evidence is out, and the victims are continuing to testify. Is your position still unchanged?”
The argument dragged on for a long time. Their heads must be spinning already, and now Seo Jinyoung had dropped an even bigger bomb. They’ll probably be delighted to receive the gift we’ve prepared.
Juhyeon swiftly snatched the envelope Taemo had tucked under his arm. Then, he strode purposefully toward the nurse’s station. A scoff of disbelief echoed from behind him, but he kept walking, his steps firm.
The few nurses on duty kept their eyes fixed on Seo Jinyoung’s room, which was in complete chaos. They looked troubled by the escalating commotion.
“Excuse me, I found this. It has a room number on it… Is this the right place?”
The nurses checked the contents of the envelope Juhyeon held out. After confirming the room number and name matched, they took the envelope.
“Ah, yes. That’s correct. We’ll deliver it.”
“Okay~”
Juhyeon gave a slight bow and quickly hurried down the hallway. No one paid him any mind as he navigated the unusually noisy corridor. He stopped in front of Taemo, who stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Taemo’s eyebrow twitched—he had just been robbed of the task he was supposed to do.
“Why are you going?”
“Someone less conspicuous should go. You stand out too much, Hyung.”
“What?”
“First of all, you’re tall, you’ve got a big build, and…”
Juhyeon trailed off, chewing his lower lip.
“And what? What else?”
He couldn’t bring himself to say and you have a face that draws everyone’s gaze. Taemo already knew he was handsome, and it would be embarrassing to say something so cringeworthy.
“Just… that’s all. Let’s go, before the fight breaks out.”
“Changing the subject when you’re losing, are we?”
Taemo chuckled, draping an arm over Juhyeon’s shoulders. Even with the heavy weight pressing down, Juhyeon now felt a sense of stability first.
“Let’s stop somewhere before we go.”
“Where?”
“A good place.”
Another meaningful smile. Taemo never told him exactly where they were headed. At first, that had filled him with anxiety and fear, but now even that brought a sense of excitement. After all, any place he went with Taemo would be fine.
After driving for a long time from the hospital, they arrived in a neighborhood near the Han River. It felt strangely familiar, as if he had been here before.
“Oh, this place… haven’t we been here before?”
“Your memory’s still sharp,” Taemo replied, stopping in front of a house.
The house was surrounded by a high wall, with the tops of tall trees peeking over it.
“This house.”
“Whose house is this?”
“It doesn’t have an owner yet.”
“…What?”
After tossing out his cryptic words, Taemo abruptly opened the front gate. Juhyeon had no idea where he’d even gotten a keycard. After pushing open the heavy gate, Taemo gestured with his chin toward the house. Taking the hint to go in first, Juhyeon hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.
The house was far more impressive up close than it had appeared from the outside. The yard was enormous, and the windows were large, yet they were tinted so that the interior remained hidden from the street. On the second floor, a spacious balcony held a small, cozy sofa.
“Wow, this place is killer,” Juhyeon breathed.
“Killer?” Taemo repeated with a soft chuckle, draping an arm over Juhyeon’s shoulder.
This was exactly the kind of house Juhyeon had always dreamed of—spacious, sun-drenched, and surrounded by a wide yard. His eyes sparkled as he nodded vigorously.
“The inside is even better.”
“…Are we really allowed to just walk in?”
Unlike the cautious Juhyeon, Taemo strode forward without hesitation. He walked right up to the front door, ignoring the doorbell and placing his hand on the lock. As his finger touched the circular sensor, a chime sounded, and the door swung open.
“Doesn’t it open just for me to go in?”
He threw the door wide and pushed Juhyeon inside.
Juhyeon stumbled in, bewildered, his eyes quickly widening in awe.
Taemo hadn’t been lying—the interior was even more stunning. The space boasted a sprawling living room and soaring ceilings, with an open-concept design that offered a clear view of the second floor. Harsh midsummer sunlight poured through massive windows, while a ceiling fan spun lazily, stirring a gentle breeze.
“This place is amazing,” Juhyeon murmured, his gaze sweeping across the room.
“I thought about making you a separate room for movies since you watch them so much,” Taemo said, “but I figured you’d just shut yourself away in there.”
“What?”
“I’m putting a big TV here.”
Taemo continued his explanation, leaving a bewildered Juhyeon in his wake.
“I made the kitchen extra-large on purpose. So we can learn to cook together.”
“…”
“If we learn, you won’t just keep getting by on cup noodles all the time.”
The way he laid it all out made it sound like he was definitely planning to live here. Juhyeon could only blink blankly, following him wherever he led.
“This is the bedroom.”
When he opened the door to the room he called the bedroom, there was only a single, large bed sitting in the middle of the space. A small nightstand and a mood lamp were the only other pieces of furniture—the entire interior. It seemed to be no different from the room Taemo was currently using.
“…Are you going to live here now?”
“Once I bring in the rest of my stuff and get it all sorted. There’s not much left.”
“…”
“That place doesn’t feel like a home. You always said you wanted to live somewhere like this.”
Taemo led the dazed Juhyeon up to the second floor. A long, horizontal window ran along one side of the hallway, framing a perfect view of the Han River. It looked just like a painting.
“I’m living here? For real?”
“What, is this a fake?”
Juhyeon was too busy pressed against the long window, staring out. He could see the Han River from his current place, but it felt so much closer now.
His mind couldn’t help but start crunching the numbers. A place this nice, in a location like this—the price must be astronomical. Even for a short-term stay, it would cost a fortune. Juhyeon thought of his bank balance and finally spoke.
“This place must be worth tens of billions, right? You’re not going to charge me tens of millions for a single month’s rent, are you? You know I can’t afford that yet.”
Before Juhyeon could even finish, Taemo let out a scoff. He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“Just because I’m unemployed now doesn’t mean I’m going to shake you down for money.”
“…I think I need a written agreement.”
“I’ll even sign it in blood. If you’re so afraid of being shaken down, how about this instead?”
As he spoke, Taemo tapped his own cheek. Though he’d softened considerably since their first meeting, such a gesture still felt entirely out of character for him. Even though no one was watching, Juhyeon covered his mouth and scanned their surroundings.
“A kiss? Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m doing this because I’ve lost my mind. Which is better—paying the money or doing this? Decide quickly.”
Although he no longer had a desperate reason to save every penny, Juhyeon couldn’t shake his old habits. He averted his eyes from Taemo’s relentless gaze and replied, “…This way is better, I guess.”
“Then do it. What’s the problem?”
“…”
If I refuse, will he not let me stay here? Closing his eyes to the thought, Juhyeon figured it was better to just endure one cringeworthy act than to pay an unknown sum of money. It wasn’t like he was being forced to do something he hated, anyway. After a moment’s hesitation, Juhyeon slowly approached Taemo and tugged firmly on the hem of his clothes.
But instead of bending down, Taemo kept his chin tilted up stiffly.
“…Are you going to do it or not?”
“Should I close my eyes for you?”
“…”
Juhyeon licked his dry lips, hesitating before finally rising onto his tiptoes. It bruised his pride, but it was the only way he could reach Taemo’s face.
Peck.
He couldn’t even reach Taemo’s lips. He awkwardly kissed the man’s chin instead, then quickly pulled back.
“The rent really is steep for a Han River view,” he muttered, scrubbing his lips with the back of his hand in embarrassment. He was trying to hide his flushed face, but Taemo just snorted at the gesture.
“The fuck? Did you just give me germs?”
Taemo grabbed Juhyeon’s wrist, yanking his hand away from his mouth. Then, he started walking down the hallway toward the center of the second floor. As he was dragged along, Juhyeon’s eyes darted around eagerly. Now that he was thinking of this as the place he would live, every corner he saw felt special.
Taemo, who had been waiting by the door in the middle of the second floor, pulled Juhyeon close by the shoulder.
“This is your room.”
“…My room?”
“You said you never had one when you were a kid.”
He swung the door wide open, and a faint, pleasant scent wafted out. The room featured an exceptionally large window, offering a panoramic view of the Han River.
“…”
Juhyeon had lived on the second floor of an orphanage as a child, too. But back then, a dozen kids had been crammed into a space less than half the size of this room. He vaguely recalled how stiflingly hot it got in the summer because the window was so small. Now, he was on the second floor again, but everything was completely different. The dark memories of his past were slowly being covered by this new, better one.
“…I really love it.”
“I knew you’d like it.”
“I’ll pay the rent faithfully.”
Taemo burst into a pleasant laugh at the half-hearted promise. The low sound of his laughter sent a strange tickle through one side of Juhyeon’s chest. The ceiling fan was spinning, but the room was still a bit warm. Even so, Juhyeon kept exploring until sweat beaded on his forehead. This was despite the fact that the only piece of furniture was the bed.
Taemo didn’t rush him. He just sat on the edge of the mattress, his eyes following Juhyeon’s movements. After a while, Juhyeon remembered the bedroom he’d seen on the first floor. If this was his room, it meant they’d be sleeping in separate rooms. But hadn’t they been sharing the same bed almost every night lately?
“But… are we sleeping in separate rooms?”
The question had been asked in genuine innocence. But the listener clearly didn’t take it that way.
“Woo Juhyeon, you’re really a slut, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not—!”
“We need two beds.”
Taemo cut off Juhyeon’s protest, holding up his index and middle fingers. The answer was so firm it almost felt a little hurtful. Is it because I’m actually a slut that I’m feeling this way? Juhyeon couldn’t find the words to reply, his lips merely moving soundlessly.
Then, the corner of Taemo’s mouth quirked up. His lips parted slowly, a low voice flowing out.
“Because we’ll have to move when you get wet.”
“…What?”
“Don’t you understand? Want to see how we’re supposed to use two bedrooms?”
Juhyeon’s face, which had been blinking in foolish confusion, instantly flushed crimson. He finally understood exactly what Taemo meant.
“No, no,” he stammered, waving his hands frantically. But Taemo had already risen from the mattress. Despite the room’s vastness, there was nowhere to run. Juhyeon backed away until his spine hit the wide window frame.
“We might not have air conditioning, but we can still use the bathroom.”
“Wait, what does that have to do with anything?”
“You love the Han River view. Go ahead, take a good look.”
Before he knew it, Taemo was right there, spinning Juhyeon around by the shoulders. Suddenly, Juhyeon’s face was pressed right up against the window. What followed was a seamless sequence of movements. Taemo had probably planned this all along.
That day, Juhyeon learned firsthand why Taemo had insisted on separate rooms and separate beds. He stared out at the Han River until he was sick of the view, all while trapped in a room that was still stiflingly hot without air conditioning. Of course, he couldn’t truly take the sight to heart.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The seemingly endless heat finally broke. Clothes grew thicker, and the breeze turned quite chilly. The apartment, which had once felt undeservedly luxurious, was becoming familiar. This meant Juhyeon was also growing accustomed to a normal life with Taemo and Kang-i.
“Early next year is a terrible idea. Let’s do it in the second half of the year.”
“Ah, I think it’ll work, though.”
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