Chapter 27
by Gideon“Yeah, well. Must be nice living in a fancy place like yours.”
“Seriously, drop that stubborn attitude already. Who’s holding you here?”
Taemo and Kang-i were exactly the same as always. The way they constantly took jabs at Juhyeon, the conversations devoid of any affection… Everything was the same, yet Juhyeon felt like the only one out of place. He had been sure, just a while ago, that he was finally fitting in with them.
Juhyeon’s gaze drifted to the lighter lying on the table. Maybe I was never meant to fit in with them from the start. Just like that lighter, his role was perhaps to be played with a few times before being left all alone.
“Don’t bother looking for a place. I’ll just drift around for a while, then come back.”
Taemo withdrew his hand from Juhyeon’s head and picked up the lighter that had been rolling on the floor. He’d never been one to keep track of things like lighters, yet this time he stubbornly shoved it into his pocket. Juhyeon, watching him from the corner of his eye, silently lowered his gaze.
Kang-i began typing furiously on his laptop. It was about time for Taemo to get up and leave. What should I do then? Should I just keep watching the videos and studying like usual? Though it had only been a few months, calling it “usual” felt a bit much. I was pressing my fingertips into the plush karaoke seat when—
“We’re talking about Gu Yeong-dong right now.”
Taemo leaned in, closing the distance between us. Then, he whispered in a voice so low that even Kang-i, sitting opposite him, couldn’t hear. Juhyeon lowered his voice as well and nodded.
“I know.”
Juhyeon had pieced together the gist of it from their conversation. He understood it was the same request Seo Jinyoung had made before. He also knew it was near the neighborhood where he used to live, and that clubs in the same area were all interconnected. Most importantly, he knew he was currently in hiding after being falsely accused of stealing the Golden Calf, meaning any chance encounter would be disastrous.
“It should be fine, right?”
Though the sentence didn’t end with a question mark, Juhyeon knew it was a question directed at him. After a moment’s thought, he slowly nodded.
He didn’t know how long they’d be staying, but if he kept his face covered, it would be okay. As long as he didn’t have to speak to anyone, no one would recognize him. If he just avoided the area around the club, he wouldn’t even run into them. Above all, the clause in the agreement—promising to help him if things got dangerous—was the first thing that came to mind.
“When did Seo Jinyoung contact you?”
“Around 4 a.m. He just sent a photo.”
Kang-i spoke without ever taking his eyes off the screen. He added that clients usually never reached out first, but seeing how Kang-i was so nonchalant about it, Seo Jinyoung must be getting special treatment.
“I’ll go meet him once.”
Taemo lightly tapped his foot on the floor before standing up. Because they had been sitting so close, Juhyeon’s hair ruffled slightly as Taemo moved. Juhyeon also slowly rose to his feet, and Taemo’s gaze lingered on him.
“Why are you coming?”
“Aren’t you going to see a client?”
Whenever he went to see Seo Jinyoung, he always took Juhyeon along—whether it was to a distant city or an expensive hotel. So Juhyeon had naturally assumed he’d be going this time, too.
But it seemed he’d been mistaken.
Taemo let out a short, dry laugh as he pressed down on Juhyeon’s shoulder.
Then came a light, playful ruffle of Juhyeon’s hair. The gesture was rough yet surprisingly familiar.
“Who said you were coming?”
“Ah… I don’t have to go?”
“Nope. Don’t get sidetracked. Go straight home.”
His tone, as always, carried a hint of sarcasm. Without a glance back, Taemo turned and walked away. He didn’t even offer a proper goodbye. By the time Juhyeon could even think to stop him, Taemo had already left the room, leaving only a faint scent of cigarettes lingering in the air.
Silence quickly descended upon the room, broken only by the soft, rapid clatter of Kang-i’s keyboard.
“He really is a regular, isn’t he?”
“Huh? Seo Jinyoung?”
Kang-i’s eyes, which had been glued to his laptop screen, finally shifted to Juhyeon. They had worked together on several contract killings, and though the number wasn’t vast, Juhyeon had a mental database of his past marks. Seo Jinyoung was the only one who defied every pattern. Perhaps that was why he kept piquing his curiosity, why he couldn’t stop thinking about him.
There was absolutely no ulterior motive involved. It was pure, simple curiosity. Juhyeon asked the question, feigning nonchalance.
“Yes. He just seems to be handling things differently than everyone else.”
“He’s…”
Kang-i’s lips curved into a meaningful smirk. A strange glint flashed in his eyes, but Juhyeon couldn’t fathom why he was reacting this way.
“He’s special in more ways than one.”
If even Kang-i was saying that, then Seo Jinyoung must be a truly important figure to them. The fact that he kept accepting commissions despite knowing Lee Taemo harbored ulterior motives said it all.
Even though he was hiring a man of the same sex to act as his lover, wouldn’t that just open another door for Seo Jinyoung? It was practically telling Lee Taemo that he didn’t even need to be a woman.
“…”
Juhyeon gave a small, awkward nod, his smile strained. There was so much he didn’t understand, but there was nothing he could do but nod along.
“He’s the perfect mark,” Kang-i explained, but his words barely registered. “He’ll hire us even if we charge triple the market rate. Maybe he’s just got too much money?”
My mind was elsewhere, picturing Taemo dealing with Seo Jinyoung. I could almost feel the subtle tension—the way Jinyoung’s gaze had clung to Taemo, relentless and piercing, and the way Taemo had deliberately ignored it, fully aware of the attention.
I couldn’t even remember how I’d spent my time at the karaoke place. I must have just gone through the motions: signing the register, grabbing a drink, sending the staff on errands with a little extra cash. I kept rewatching the video of the other cleaners working in teams—so different from me, always alone—while staring at my phone the entire time.
Even after returning home, Juhyeon’s mind was still elsewhere. He’d showered and changed into fresh clothes, then grabbed a beer and sprawled halfway across the living room sofa. Everything was perfectly peaceful, yet he felt an unsettling restlessness, as if he’d forgotten something crucial. And Juhyeon knew exactly what was causing it.
He scanned the blank screen of his phone, then checked the time.
Ugh, seriously. Is Lee Taemo my new obsession?
Loneliness was his kryptonite. He’d lived his whole life without a single family member, yet he still couldn’t get used to it. In times like this, he used to fill the void by calling friends or older and younger brothers. But ever since he’d started following Lee Taemo, the man had occupied all his time.
Well, I didn’t have much time alone in the first place, he thought. And going to Superman Karaoke usually helped a bit.
But today, even that wasn’t working.
“What the hell is he doing to be this late?”
Juhyeon downed the beer in huge gulps and flopped onto the sofa. With the curtains drawn open, the pitch-black night outside the window filled his vision.
“…”
If I keep focusing on waiting for Lee Taemo, time will only drag.
Juhyeon shook his head to clear his mind and opened his banking app. He checked his balance again, the first digit having changed once more. It had become a new hobby of his since arriving here.
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand…
He recounted the unchanging numbers several times. Only then did Juhyeon’s lips finally relax into a faint smile.
Juhyeon had checked his balance over twenty times by the time the faint sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment. He hurriedly closed the app and scrambled to his feet, averting his gaze with a suddenness that left his hair a mess.
He rushed halfway to the door, then hesitated, hovering awkwardly as Taemo appeared. He was dressed the same as before, his expression as impassive as ever. Juhyeon couldn’t understand why seeing him so unchanged brought him such a wave of relief.
“You’re home?”
He’d never seen anyone off or welcomed them home before. The words felt clumsy, and the small smile he forced onto his lips felt even more unnatural. The few sips of alcohol he’d taken seemed to have made his face flush. He’d tried so hard not to look like he’d been waiting, but as Taemo’s dark eyes fixed on him, Juhyeon knew he’d failed.
“Did I get a dog?”
Juhyeon scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward at Taemo’s murmur. Just as he was about to avert his gaze to the floor, a faint smile flickered across Taemo’s face.
Did I imagine that? Juhyeon looked up again, but the smile had already vanished without a trace.
“Do you have something to say?”
“No. Not really… Did the meeting go well?”
“Yeah.”
Juhyeon tried to keep the conversation going, but Taemo simply turned away, his response curt. Though he hadn’t said it outright, his annoyance was clear, and Juhyeon nodded awkwardly.
“…Ah, right. I see.”
He looks tired. I should probably stop talking. Juhyeon scratched his eyebrow and sank back onto the sofa.
At that exact moment, Taemo stopped dead in his tracks. He stood there for a long moment, motionless, before slowly taking off his jacket.
“Again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t you have anything else you’re curious about?”
To an outsider, it might have looked like he was prying questions out of her. Yet, a faint glow of relief spread across Juhyeon’s face. Lee Taemo, with his sharp senses, wouldn’t have missed her relaxed expression. As her movements slowed, Juhyeon finally asked her question.
“I’m not really curious about anything else… but, um, where did you meet today?”
In truth, this was what she wanted to know most. Had they met in that hotel, where they’d only worn robes? Or did they meet in a restaurant, where there would be other people around?
“That same hotel as last time. He lives there when he’s in Korea.”
“Ah… Just the two of you?”
The words were out before she could stop them. Now I sound like I’m jealous. She took a breath, ready to explain it away as a casual question. But Taemo cut her off first.
“Why? What are you so curious about?”
“…”
Juhyeon couldn’t think of a single word to say. He couldn’t even understand why he had been curious about such a thing, or why he’d asked it in the first place. He licked his lower lip, his eyes darting around.
As the silence stretched on, Taemo started walking toward the sofa. Swish. With every step, a faint, subtle presence echoed. Perhaps because Taemo’s presence was usually so hard to detect, Juhyeon’s entire focus was now fixed on the small sounds drawing closer.
Juhyeon reached out with a trembling hand and gripped the beer can. It was already warm and flat, but he kept swallowing the beer to quench his thirst. Gulp. Even as his throat tightened with each swallow, the footsteps drew closer.
“Are you wondering if I fucked that bastard?”
The blunt question nearly made him choke on his beer. Juhyeon hastily pulled the can away from his lips and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. He could feel his lips trembling against his thin skin.
“I-I didn’t ask because I was curious about that,” he stammered. “Besides, you’re not even interested in me anyway, are you?”
Taemo slowly leaned forward, his arm reaching out to grip the back of the sofa. The leather creaked under his weight, and Juhyeon’s lips went bone-dry.
“Do I need to be interested in you to do that?”
What was he trying to imply? Juhyeon’s breath hitched as their gazes locked. Living with Taemo often meant being swept up in this strange, electric tension. Every other time, Juhyeon had simply frozen in panic, but today, he found a sudden spark of courage and refused to look away.
“……Isn’t it obvious?”
“Obvious?”
Taemo narrowed his eyes, his voice trailing off in a question as he leaned in. His massive shadow fell over Juhyeon, enveloping him.
Juhyeon’s dating history was sparse—just a few brief, superficial relationships he’d been swept into. Perhaps because he’d never had the mental space for anything more, he’d never been able to truly open up to anyone. His experience was clumsy and incomplete, but he wasn’t so dense that he couldn’t read the shift in the air.
Ssssh. The distance between them closed. Soon, Taemo was close enough that Juhyeon could smell the heavy scent of alcohol on him. Yet, Juhyeon didn’t flinch or look away. He couldn’t say for sure if he had feelings for Lee Taemo… but in this moment, he simply didn’t want to back down.
“…”
A heavy silence stretched between them, so thick that the only sounds were the thumping of Juhyeon’s heart and the steady rhythm of Taemo’s breath, tickling his ears. He didn’t even dare to swallow, afraid the sound would echo loudly in the quiet.
They stared at each other without blinking for what felt like an eternity.
Then, Taemo slowly reached out.
His large hand didn’t touch Juhyeon. Instead, it gripped the beer can Juhyeon was holding. Taemo took the can with ease and brought it straight to his lips.
Juhyeon couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight: Taemo’s head tilted slightly back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed the remaining beer, his lips pressed against the rim of the can. The sight left Juhyeon parched, and he swallowed hard.
His gaze fixed on Taemo’s prominent Adam’s apple before he finally looked up. At that exact moment, his eyes met Taemo’s lowered gaze, and their stares locked in the empty space between them.
“…”
Though the can seemed mostly empty, he didn’t pull his lips away. He lingered for a long moment where Juhyeon’s breath had just been touching.
Even a slightly deeper breath felt like it would cross the invisible line drawn between them. Unlike Juhyeon, who was frozen stiff, Taemo remained utterly composed. He slowly rolled the empty can in his hand, his lips parting slightly.
“Is this obvious?”
Before Juhyeon could even process the muttered words, a dark shadow fell over him. The familiar scent of shampoo wafted in, and Taemo’s breath brushed against his skin. Even as the distance closed in a sudden blur, Juhyeon tried to convince himself it was just the motion of Taemo setting down the beer can. Just like the countless times he’d fooled himself before.
“…Mmph.”
But this time, hot breath finally brushed against his lips. Wet and dry lips pressed together so tightly they seemed to blur into one. Even though it was just a light kiss, a mere mingling of breath, the strength drained from Juhyeon’s entire body.
His hands are rough, and his body heat is scorching. Juhyeon had learned this during his time with Taemo, but today, a new fact was added to the list. Lee Taemo’s lips were soft and warm—so much so that he wanted to keep them pressed against his for a long, long time.
Between the thin, pressed-together skin, something hot and soft grazed him. The moment Juhyeon realized it was a tongue, he instinctively held his breath and flinched.
“…Hhup.”
In that instant, Taemo swiftly pulled back.
He set the can on the table and adjusted his jacket, which had slipped from his shoulder to hang around his wrist. Then, he spoke in a perfectly casual tone, as if they hadn’t just kissed.
“See? We can do it. Even without any feelings involved.”
Taemo shrugged, leaving those words hanging in the air before turning away. He acted as if Juhyeon, who was flushed crimson from head to toe, wasn’t even there.
Click.
Taemo’s door shut. Only then did Juhyeon finally let out the breath he’d been holding, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for air.
“What… the hell just happened?”
His fingertips trembled as he traced his lips. It wasn’t even a real kiss, he thought. Our lips just touched, and our tongues barely brushed. Why is my heart racing like this?
“…Am I crazy?”
Should I be screaming at him, asking what the hell he thinks he’s doing? Should I pack my bags and move into a karaoke room? Should I draw a line and tell him I’ll play along as long as Seo Jinyoung is around, but nothing more? Could I just blame the whole thing on Taemo?
But then… why didn’t I pull away? I could have pushed him off.
“…”
Juhyeon’s lips moved silently. The thin, once-dry skin was now slick and wet. His ragged breaths smelled of alcohol, but Juhyeon knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.
As expected, I stayed up all night. I don’t think it was ever this bad when I first started dating.
The problem, I realized, was living alone with him.
For a while now, I’d been hearing movement outside the door. He usually tried to be quiet, so this—this deliberate noise—was a clear signal.
You’re not actually interested in me anyway, are you?
Maybe that was what had pushed Lee Taemo’s buttons. The idea that some guy he wasn’t even close with was acting like he knew him so well. Or maybe, fueled by the alcohol, I’d kissed him out of sheer spite because his words had gotten under my skin. He didn’t seem like the type to harbor such childishly competitive streaks, but you never know what’s going on inside someone.
“…If you’re gonna be this scared, why the hell did you say that in the first place?”
Sigh. I should have just stayed put. I shouldn’t have been in the living room. I shouldn’t have let it be so obvious that I was waiting. Regret washed over me, but there was no undoing what had already been done. I pulled the blanket up higher, trying to ignore the presence outside.
Click. The doorknob turned with a soft sound. At that exact moment, Juhyeon squeezed his eyes shut. Thump, thump. His heart began to pound, drumming against his eardrums. Shhh, shhh. The faint, steady sound of slippers dragging across the floor continued.
Lee Taemo was a large man, but his movements were always light. He barely left a trace of his presence wherever he went. Whether it was his footsteps or his breathing, he knew exactly how much to reveal and how much to hide. Which meant that the deliberate sound of his slippers scuffing the floor right now was completely intentional.
“I know you’re awake.”
“…”
“Open your eyes.”
The footsteps finally reached the bedside. With Taemo standing with his back to the window, Juhyeon’s tightly shut eyes were stained with darkness. He loosened his grip on the blanket and slowly opened his eyes, pretending he had just woken up.
“…What is it?”
He cleared his throat for no reason. It was useless; Lee Taemo probably already knew he’d been tossing and turning all night. Unable to bear the gaze that clung to his cheek so intensely it almost stung, Juhyeon kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“What do you mean, ‘what is it’? The sun’s been high in the sky for ages. Are you planning to just sleep all day?”
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. Taemo was speaking with his usual abrasive tone, picking a fight just like always, yet something felt subtly off.
Juhyeon slowly shifted his gaze from the ceiling he’d been stubbornly staring at. Taemo’s face, tilted at an angle, immediately came into view.
“…”
Even though it was morning, his face was perfectly clear, without a hint of puffiness. And despite his casual attire, he still exuded the same intimidating aura Juhyeon had grown used to. So why did this feel so strange?
“Slacking off after only a few months on the job? You trying to get fired?”
Ah, I see.
The problem was that Taemo looked completely unfazed. He was the polar opposite of Juhyeon, who had tossed and turned all night without a wink of sleep, his hair a mess and his eyes bloodshot. This only served to reinforce the fact that Juhyeon was the only one still dwelling on yesterday’s events.
So, we’re pretending it never happened.
Juhyeon knew exactly how to play this. He’d spent years learning to read the room among thugs. Hiding his emotions and playing along was second nature.
“You know, I’m allowed to sleep in on the weekends. You’re so uptight.”
He kept his voice steady, acting as if nothing were wrong. That was clearly what Taemo wanted. Juhyeon slowly pushed back the covers and sat up.
Immediately, Taemo reached out. His hand moved naturally, as if to smooth down Juhyeon’s messy hair, but it stopped short. His fingertips hadn’t even touched a single strand.
“…Did you wrestle with the sheets all night or something?”
The large hand ultimately fell short of touching Juhyeon. Shoving his hand deep into his pocket, Taemo turned his back after leaving only a short command to come out. Since he wore a thin short-sleeved T-shirt, the silhouette extending from his shoulders to the small of his back was clearly visible with every fast stride. While Juhyeon’s gaze was momentarily stolen by that broad back, Taemo disappeared beyond the wide-open door.
“…”
The sounds of movement continued in the living room. There was a tacit understanding that no one would ask about yesterday, and both of them were pretending as if nothing had happened.
Even though everything was flowing smoothly, his heart strangely churned even more. It was because of that one fingertip that had ultimately failed to reach him. He didn’t know if that was regret or another lingering attachment.
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