INT Ch 4.1

It was past eight in the evening when he finally left the district prosecutor’s office. He regretted not arriving earlier as advised and keeping better track of the time.

Since tomorrow was Christmas, festive decorations sparkled all over the streets. The sight of Christmas trees being set up around the city gave a tangible sense of the year’s end.

Haewon was riding in Hyun Woojin’s car on the way to the hospital. There, Lee Jinyeong, who had injured his eye because of Haewon, was hospitalized. He had declared his intent to press charges against Haewon. Hyun Woojin explained that the case could put Haewon in a very disadvantageous position. The worst part was that the courtroom would witness Haewon’s attorney and the prosecutor representing Lee Jinyeong arguing the case’s legal merits.

The court would have to determine whether Lee Jinyeong, who had attempted to sexually assault Haewon, was more at fault, or if Haewon’s act of stabbing his eye in self-defense was the greater crime. Haewon had no desire to stand in a courtroom and air out such details to determine whose wrongdoing was greater. Unaware of Haewon’s inner turmoil, Hyun Woojin explained that the law in this country often prioritizes the rights of perpetrators over victims, meaning the odds were stacked against Haewon.

If what Lee Jinyeong wanted was something simple, Haewon thought, then it might be better to comply and put an end to the ordeal. If an apology was enough, Haewon would apologize. If he wanted something more humiliating, then Haewon would comply if it meant closure.

On Christmas Eve, Haewon found himself in Hyun Woojin’s car, staring at streets filled with year-end festivity, while contemplating how to comply with Lee Jinyeong’s demands as quickly as possible. Each time Haewon caught his own reflection in the window, a wave of self-loathing swept over him.

When they arrived at the hospital parking lot, Hyun Woojin parked the car and turned off the engine. Haewon unfastened his seatbelt and spoke.

“Just tell me the room number. I’ll go alone.”

“Let’s go together.”

“This seems like something I should handle on my own.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Hyun Woojin nodded and gave Haewon the room number.

It was past visiting hours, so the hospital wing was quiet. Some rooms were dark, with patients already asleep.

Haewon reached the room Hyun Woojin had mentioned and knocked on the door. A voice answered, “Come in.” Haewon opened the door and stepped inside. It was a two-bed room, with one bed on each side of the wall. Lee Jinyeong was lying on the right-hand bed, while the other was unoccupied. He was alone.

Upon seeing Haewon, the man on the bed flinched. His head and right cheek were wrapped in thick bandages, covering one side of his face. He glanced at Haewon with his left eye and shakily sat up.

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry.”

Haewon apologized to the man who had tried to break his fingers. For a moment, hostility flashed across the man’s face, but it soon softened. While Haewon had injured his eye, he had also tried to overpower Haewon and commit an act of violence. Haewon had merely acted preemptively to protect himself.

“You heard I’m pressing charges, huh?”

Haewon nodded silently. The man reached up to touch the bandages wrapped around his face.

“You know I’m not trying to make things miserable for both of us, right?”

He probably didn’t want that. Having already written a statement, he likely understood the process better. Personal details that neither of them wanted to share would become known to strangers, and the ensuing legal battle would be a heavy burden for someone trying to maintain a normal life.

“If I had lost sight in one eye completely, who knows how things would’ve turned out.”

“I truly feel sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry, then don’t leave.”

“…”

“I won’t do anything like that again, okay? Just stay with me. I’ll make it like none of this ever happened.”

He was more tenacious and persistent than expected. Lee Jinyeong got out of bed and approached Haewon, cautiously taking hold of his hand. On Haewon’s wrist, the bruises left by him were still clearly visible. As his eyes fell on the scars peeking out from beneath Haewon’s sleeve, Lee Jinyeong hesitated. His rough hand gently brushed over the wounds, causing a lingering ache to resurface. Haewon reminded himself that evidence photos had already been taken and saved on Hyun Woojin’s phone.

“I won’t press charges, and I won’t make things hard for you, Haewon. I’ll never lay a hand on you again.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“I don’t even know what I might do anymore. Every time you say things like that, I feel like I’m going insane. Do you understand what I mean?”

Still holding his hand, he spoke. Haewon lifted his head to look at him.

“Are you saying you’ll press charges?”

“If that’s what it takes to hold onto you, I will. I’m serious. I’ll cling to you no matter what, by any means necessary.”

Haewon had never had a deep relationship before. Whenever something seemed like it might grow deeper, he avoided it. Deep connections were tiring and bothersome.

When his mother passed away, it was because of the depth of her feelings for his father. If she hadn’t cared so much, she might have sought revenge against him and his stepmother. She might have protested and confronted them, even in her fragile state, leaving her sick body at their doorstep and making her suffering and demise a tangible burden they would have to face. She could have made them feel accountable for her downfall.

This was why Haewon deliberately only associated with people in situations that made deeper bonds unlikely—people living abroad, individuals in positions of power who couldn’t afford to abandon what they had, or those too preoccupied with other attachments to become fixated on him.

This had never happened before. A man whose eye he had injured—who had narrowly avoided losing his vision—was clinging to him, saying he still liked him and wanted to be with him. Haewon had never experienced this kind of situation.

Unable to confront the raw emotions rising in front of him, Haewon turned his head away and tried to reason with him. “We’ll just end up humiliating ourselves.”

“I don’t care. I hate the idea of living without you more. That feels even worse.”

What Haewon hated most was the intensity of the emotions Lee Jinyeong was throwing at him, willing to risk everything to reach him. It was the same fear and aversion Haewon had felt when his mother passed away—an overwhelming force of emotion he had always avoided.

“I don’t like you.”

“I know. That’s fine. We can take it slow. If you don’t like me now, you can like me later.”

Haewon’s body trembled slightly. He shouldn’t have come alone, leaving Hyun Woojin in the car. He tightly shut his eyes before opening them again. Dressed in a hospital gown, Lee Jinyeong looked even more pale and frail, but there was still a fiery determination in his gaze, unwavering even with just one eye.

“I’ll pay you. How much do you want?”

“Haewon.”

He wanted to escape his gaze. Haewon blurted out whatever came to mind. Although he had resolved not to rely on his father’s financial support, there seemed to be no other option. He tried to calculate how much his father could provide immediately, but he couldn’t grasp a number.

“How about three hundred million? I can arrange that.”

“I wouldn’t take thirty billion. We were good together. You didn’t hate me either.”

“…”

At least for Haewon, there had never been any affection in their physical encounters. He had never truly liked or desired anyone. This was why he couldn’t understand his mother, why he couldn’t understand Taeshin. He couldn’t comprehend the overwhelming emotions that drove people to love someone to the point of helplessness. Just as he couldn’t understand Taeshin, he couldn’t fathom Lee Jinyeong’s desperate plea for love before him. He was repelled by their willingness to lose everything just to hold onto someone.

“I don’t want us to ruin each other’s lives. Don’t push me to that point.”

Lee Jinyeong clung to Haewon’s hand, pleading desperately. It wasn’t a plea; it was a threat.

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you want to sleep with me.”

“…It’d be a lie to say no. Yes.”

Lee Jinyeong admitted it without hesitation.

“Then I’ll sleep with you. And then it ends. No, if you say you want to sleep with me again, I’ll do it. I can do that.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Do you think I’m doing this just because I want to sleep with you? Yes, I want you, but that’s not what this is about.”

“Let’s just do it once and end it.”

Haewon took off his coat. Lee Jinyeong’s face contorted. As Haewon unbuttoned his shirt, starting to remove it, the hospital room door suddenly burst open. Both of them turned at the unexpected sound.

The person who entered through the door was unexpectedly Hyun Woojin. He was on a call, holding his phone to his ear. Walking in, he buttoned up Haewon’s shirt that had been left open and picked up the coat lying on the bed.

“Are you sure about this? It needs to be precise. I’m about to threaten someone, and if it’s not true, it’ll become a real hassle. Okay, that and… nothing else? Alright. That’s enough. Good work.”

Ending the call, Hyun Woojin slipped his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. He draped the coat over Haewon’s shoulders and meticulously rebuttoned the undone shirt buttons. He dressed Haewon neatly again, reversing his earlier attempts to undress. Haewon looked at him, bewildered.

“Are you naive, or just not thinking? Do you really think that sleeping with Moon Haewon once would make something like this go away?”

“What’s your deal? Your threats won’t work anymore.”

When Lee Jinyeong reached out to grab Haewon’s arm, Hyun Woojin blocked him and grabbed Haewon first. He positioned Haewon behind his back, shielding him completely from Lee Jinyeong. With Hyun Woojin’s broad frame in the way, not even a shadow of Lee Jinyeong was visible to Haewon.

“Did your lawyer tell you that? That since it was only an attempt, you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“They didn’t say I did nothing wrong. They said I have a solid chance if I press charges since the damage on my side is greater.”

“So, you changed your stance in less than a day? You told me you wanted to let it go.”

“The situation has changed. Upon checking, I found out the prosecutor tried to scare me unnecessarily.”

Clearly resentful and resolved not to fall for Hyun Woojin’s threats and coercion from the previous night, Lee Jinyeong snapped back. Hyun Woojin sneered coldly at him, exuding an air of disdain so palpable it made it clear he considered Lee Jinyeong insignificant—hardly worth engaging with. That brief sneer, more than any lengthy verbal threat, struck a painful blow to Lee Jinyeong.

“Did you start reminiscing about how you tried to assault Moon Haewon?”

“You’re going too far.”

“Regretting it, aren’t you? Sulking over the fact that you couldn’t finish what you started, stuck halfway between pulling your pants up or down. You must be deeply disappointed you couldn’t follow through. If I were in your shoes…”

Hyun Woojin glanced back at Haewon, their eyes meeting. Seeing Haewon, who was in a vulnerable position, he offered a reassuring smile. Then, turning back to face Lee Jinyeong, he continued.

“Well, I can see why it’d feel like a waste to let him go.”

“What do you want? From now on, address my legal representative. Please leave.”

When Lee Jinyeong attempted to approach Haewon, standing behind Hyun Woojin, his calloused hands reached out to grab him. Haewon’s fingers trembled as he clutched the hem of his coat. Sensing this, Hyun Woojin stepped forward to block Lee Jinyeong. Alarmed, Haewon grabbed onto Hyun Woojin’s jacket, pleading silently for him to stay and not leave. Hyun Woojin hesitated for a moment, noticing the trembling hands clutching at his back.

“Lee Jinyeong, you work at Samjeong Corporation, right?”

At this question, Lee Jinyeong faltered slightly.

“You’re familiar with Executive Director Kim Hwangu, I assume.”

“He’s our General Sales Director. What does that have to do with this?”

His tone turned defensive. Standing under the protective shadow cast by Hyun Woojin, Haewon quietly listened to their exchange.

“Did you know that Director Kim recently leaked domestic technology data to overseas companies in exchange for a $2 billion contract in Saudi Arabia?”

“…”

“It wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t. You’re his subordinate, and it was classified data from your team. I’m about to request a warrant for that. Should I say it was an internal whistleblower?”

“That’s absurd…”

“Does Director Kim know that I’ve met you personally several times like this?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t know anything about that, and I wasn’t involved!”

His voice was filled with frustration, a desperate plea to assert his innocence. But appeals to pity didn’t work on someone like Hyun Woojin.

“A proper investigation will reveal everything. Even if you weren’t directly involved, if I say you were, you’ll be deeply implicated.”

“…”

From behind Hyun Woojin, Haewon caught a glimpse of Lee Jinyeong’s trembling hands, the same hands that had tried to grab him, now clenched into fists.

“Your eye is already like that. Do you want to lose your job too? Go ahead, press charges. I don’t know which idiot advised you, but if you’re ready to see your laughable career destroyed and live the rest of your life in ruin, go for it.”

I won’t stop you. Do whatever you want. I’ll make sure you crawl in the dirt for the rest of your life.

It was a remark that stomped out any lingering seed of regret that might still remain.

Lee Jinyeong’s silence stretched on. Haewon, hiding behind Hyun Woojin and clutching his jacket tightly, wished for the moment to end as soon as possible. Hyun Woojin glanced back at Haewon, briefly taking in his anxious demeanor.

Taking a step back as if retreating, Lee Jinyeong asked, his voice so sunken it seemed it couldn’t fall any lower.

“…What is it? What’s your relationship with Haewon?”

“Is that what concerns you in this situation? I’m currently trying to cut off your livelihood, Mr. Lee.”

“What’s the relationship between you two?”

He persisted in asking. The hand Haewon had gripped tightly onto the back of Hyun Woojin’s jacket was gently patted by Hyun Woojin, reassuring him.

“He’s a friend of a friend of mine.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Hyun Woojin pulled his car key out of his pocket. When he pressed the button, the headlights of a gray car parked at a distance flashed.

“Thank you for today.”

Haewon spoke to his back as he walked toward the car. Hyun Woojin stopped and turned to look at him.

“Does this mean you’ve resolved your misunderstanding about me?”

“I’ve never misunderstood you.”

“Get in the car.”

He resumed walking. Haewon didn’t follow.

“I’ll take a taxi.”

“…”

“Thank you for your help.”

Hyun Woojin’s chest rose and fell slowly as he let out a measured sigh. He fiddled with the car key in his hand. When Haewon, after bowing slightly in farewell, turned to leave, he called out.

“Let’s have dinner.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“That’s harsh.”

“…”

“After all I’ve done, the least you could do is buy me a meal. Do you have any idea how much of my time you’ve taken up? You shouldn’t treat me the same as everyone else. Because of this petty love feud, a sitting vice minister’s case has been delayed. I postponed his investigation because of you, Moon Haewon.”

He pronounced Haewon’s name deliberately, syllable by syllable. It was as if he was explaining how important and extraordinary he was, and how it would be discourteous not to acknowledge that. Haewon listened in silence.

“They’re in an uproar now, so how much longer do you intend to keep them waiting?”

“If you’re so busy, you should go. I’ll buy you dinner when you’re less occupied.”

“…”

Haewon bowed slightly and turned away. He could feel the sharp, piercing gaze on his back like a needle. Soon, the sound of an engine starting reached his ears.

The parking lot was empty except for Haewon and Hyun Woojin. The gray car passed by him, stirring up the wind, and disappeared toward the exit. Haewon watched the rear of the departing car blankly.

When Haewon arrived at his studio apartment, he took a shower first. Hunger was a secondary concern. He wanted to quickly wash off the dirty residue clinging to him. The persistent image of Lee Jinyeong’s penetrating gaze kept swirling in his mind.

After finishing his bath, Haewon lay face down on the bed, exhausted. He buried his face in the pillow and let out a deep, resigned sigh. The broad back of Hyun Woojin, who had shielded him and threatened Lee Jinyeong, came to mind.

It was a wide back, one that looked like it could be relied on. A back that made him want to bury his face in it and breathe in its scent desperately, if only he could. It was a back so solid and broad that the predatory, leering gaze of a man like Lee Jinyeong couldn’t reach him.

He had thought that offering an insincere apology, appeasing, and humoring Hyun Woojin as he suggested would lead to an end. He thought it would conclude with an “It’s enough,” or even with Lee Jinyeong apologizing, saying he was sorry for how things had turned out. That was the Lee Jinyeong he knew. And if not that, if he turned out to be worse than Haewon had expected, he thought he could endure it once and put it behind him.

But Lee Jinyeong was worse than Haewon had imagined. While professing his love, he threatened Haewon. As Haewon removed his coat and lowered his clothes, the look in Lee Jinyeong’s eyes had been one of utter revulsion. A foreboding sense that it wouldn’t end with just once crossed his mind. Haewon felt disgusted with himself for trembling helplessly, hiding behind Hyun Woojin’s back, unsure of what to do.

It was an obsession he had never encountered before. His biological mother had wished for her death to go unnoticed, while Lee Jinyeong no longer tried to hide his emotions. Compared to Kim Jaemin’s unwelcome visits to his studio apartment, this was on another level. A shiver ran through him. Haewon could neither handle nor wanted to handle someone like Lee Jinyeong.

Haewon gripped Hyun Woojin’s jacket tightly, fearing that he might leave him and Lee Jinyeong behind, afraid he would disappear just like that. Hidden behind Hyun Woojin’s back, Haewon trembled as a friend of a friend reached back discreetly to pat his shaking hand in reassurance.

Hyun Woojin was a friend of a friend. He was the man Taeshin had loved unrequitedly.

If only he hadn’t been Taeshin’s man, if only Taeshin hadn’t taken his own life.

Because of the trembling in his body that wouldn’t let go of his jacket, Haewon couldn’t bring himself to get into his car. He pretended not to notice his absurdity, which had finally made him angry. Even on Christmas, a day when people are kind to strangers, Haewon ignored the man despite owing him a debt.

Closing his eyes, he tried to force himself to sleep under the weight of exhaustion pressing down on his whole body.

When he awoke, feeling hungry, it was already past 2 a.m. The soundproof walls of the room blocked out external noise and kept internal sounds from leaking outside, but the quiet of the late night seemed more profound.

The midnight silence was a familiar sensation. It felt like he had finally returned to his routine, an atmosphere and texture he recognized. Haewon tried to wake up at the same time every day, but when he couldn’t, he simply got up when he wanted or slept when he wished. If he woke up at dawn, he didn’t force himself to stay asleep—he got up, listened to music, studied sheet music, or ate something simple if he was hungry.

He filled his stomach with instant food and took out his violin. He hadn’t practiced for several days. Among the sheet music in his bookshelf, he randomly pulled out whatever came to hand. It turned out to be Ravel’s Tzigane.

He carefully applied rosin to the bow and tightened the screw. Of the four bows he owned, he chose his favorite solo bow and adjusted the tension of its hair. Resting the violin body on his shoulder, he tuned it by gently turning the pegs.

His apartment was a space where Haewon could perform whenever he wanted. He hadn’t often been grateful for it, taking it for granted, but now it felt precious. Losing access to his daily life all of a sudden made him realize how much he cherished his identity as a violinist.

He opened the sheet music on the stand and began to play.

Ravel’s Tzigane begins with an extended violin cadenza.

Ravel reportedly spent two years composing the piece, inspired by the Hungarian violinist Jelly d’Arányi. After seeing her perform, he wrote the composition to showcase her technical prowess to its limits and dedicated the piece to her.

While playing Tzigane, one could almost feel Ravel’s obsession and passion for her.

It’s a gypsy dance that wanders without roots. It’s impromptu and folkloric. Playful and charming, but tinged with sadness because it’s a gypsy melody. Breathless trills flow into lively pizzicatos, as if fairies hidden in the underbrush suddenly leap out to dance with the gypsy.

Until the end, the piece is resplendent, filled with complex variations that demand technical mastery. The dancer waves a long, fluttering skirt, extending both hands toward the sky to signal the end of the dance. The fairies that had been dancing along disappear, leaving the gypsy standing alone.

Like a midsummer night’s dream.

Drawing the bow across the strings from start to finish, Haewon lifted it off the strings.

“Haah…”

Beads of sweat had formed. He wiped his chin with the back of the hand holding the bow, letting out a long sigh. As he turned to fetch another sheet of music, Haewon flinched in shock.

It was Hyun Woojin. He stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with a crooked posture.

“What… how did you get in? No, when did you…!”

He hadn’t heard anyone come in. He had punched in the door lock code while Hyun Woojin had been looking elsewhere. How and when he entered was inexplicable, almost ghostlike. And it was well past midnight.

“…”

His odd gaze swept over Haewon’s face. Leaning against the entryway wall, he made no excuses or explanations for his unauthorized entry.

“Do you know what time it is? Barging into someone’s home uninvited at this hour—it’s unbecoming of a prosecutor. This is trespassing.”

“…”

“Do you sleep with your eyes open?”

Haewon scolded him, but Hyun Woojin, without changing his posture, spoke at last.

“You look completely different when you’re performing compared to your usual self.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“I thought you were someone else.”

“Get out.”

Haewon glared at him, repeating his demand to leave. But instead of leaving, Hyun Woojin uncrossed his arms, straightened his posture, and stepped into the living room after taking off his shoes.

“You said you’d treat me to a meal later when I’m not busy.”

“…”

“I’m not busy at this hour.”

“Get out.”

His expression was devoid of emotion, yet there was an undercurrent of something being suppressed, not anger, but something else Haewon couldn’t identify.

Haewon tilted his head up at him, now standing much closer.

“Didn’t you hear me say leave?”

“A violinist shouldn’t get so upset just because someone saw them perform.”

“I don’t perform in front of people like you.”

“People like me?”

His eyebrows arched with interest at the vague plural form.

“Who are these ‘people like me’ you don’t perform for?”

“Get out.”

“Who got so worked up watching your performance?”

“…”

“You talk as if you’ve seen my face and my feelings somewhere before. Have there been many people like me?”

His piercing gaze was unnerving. Haewon shouted at him.

“Didn’t you hear me tell you to leave?”

“I’m six years older than you, Moon Haewon. Six whole years. Didn’t know that, did you?”

“Why should I care about something so petty? Just get out…”

Haewon avoided looking at the man who had approached and hurriedly packed his violin and bow into their case. The man watched Haewon’s flustered actions with an indifferent gaze.

“Get out before I call the police for trespassing.”

Haewon raised threatening eyes toward him. The man scratched his forehead with a finger as if this situation was troubling. Both he and Haewon knew well that no call could truly drive him out right now.

“What’s your professional opinion? Is it normal to get excited watching someone play the violin?”

“It’s abnormal.”

“I couldn’t hear it with my ears. Something else was resonating. Maybe because I’m musically ignorant.”

“Buddha sees Buddha, and pigs see pigs. It’s all about what kind of person is looking. Normal people don’t think like that.”

“Have you met a lot of abnormal people, then? Enough to hate it so much that a violinist would go ballistic just because someone watched them play?”

“What do you think? Trash attracts trash.”

“Fair enough.”

“…”

“So why does listening to Moon Haewon’s performance make it hard to breathe?”

As if he truly felt suffocated, the man loosened the tie around his neck with a hooked finger, trying to catch his breath.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, so get out!”

“Let’s stop before it becomes outright harassment.”

He’d already said enough to cross that line. The man, who had been standing there menacingly, now wandered around Haewon’s apartment. He flipped through Haewon’s sheet music and meandered through the space, eventually stopping by the living room window to take in the cityscape from the high-rise.

Meanwhile, Haewon put away the violin and music stand, then threw a thick hoodie over his pajamas. He glanced toward the man by the window while gathering his violin, coat, wallet, and phone. Just as he had slipped out of the apartment to avoid waking Kim Jaemin earlier, Haewon now found himself wanting to flee from Hyun Woojin. But this was his home. He had no reason to leave.

“How did you get in?”

“I must’ve entered by pressing the passcode.”

The man responded nonchalantly, his eyes fixed in the direction of his workplace as if he could see it, though it was nowhere in view. Haewon glared at him, silently fuming, but the man didn’t avert his gaze.

“When did you start playing the violin?”

“Why would you care?”

He was trespassing, standing by the window, asking nonsensical questions. Pretending not to notice the odd tension he exuded, Haewon replied coldly.

“I don’t know much about music, but if someone tried to break fingers like yours, I’d probably stab them too.”

The man’s derisive laughter from earlier replayed in Haewon’s mind, the memory of him mocking the statement Haewon had made about stabbing a man who tried to break his fingers. Now, though, it seemed the man believed him. Before, he hadn’t.

“I called, but you didn’t answer, Moon Haewon.”

“If I don’t answer, you just barge in?”

“I thought you were asleep and was about to leave, but I heard something inside. I thought someone like Lee Jinyeong was harassing you again, so I came in to help.”

Haewon had merely been playing the violin. And with the soundproofing, there was no way anything suspicious could have leaked outside. It was pointless to argue with his twisted logic.

“Fine, whatever. Just leave.”

The shock of his unexpected appearance had settled. The man finally turned his gaze away from the window, though his eyes still burned with an odd intensity. Even the cold winter air outside couldn’t temper the sultry undertone in his expression.

Haewon didn’t want to provoke him. It felt as though any misstep might cause him to explode. Watching him, Haewon was gripped by a nervous apprehension.

“Do you hate me?”

“…”

“Is it because I’m me, or is it because I’m the man your dead friend liked?”

A sharp question.

Did he hate Hyun Woojin because he was Hyun Woojin, or because he was the man Lee Taeshin, who had died, had once loved? Or was it simply because he deserved to be hated as a person? Haewon didn’t know. These were his own feelings, his own heart, but he couldn’t untangle them.

“I hate you because of how you’re acting.”

Ignoring Haewon’s words, Hyun Woojin stared intently at him as if lost in thought, then suddenly moved. He approached Haewon without hesitation. Startled, Haewon flinched. There was no time to avoid him, no place to escape.

Hyun Woojin’s hand—warm, as Haewon had thought before—grabbed the nape of his neck roughly and pulled him closer. Haewon’s upper body was yanked forward.

He was Taeshin’s man. The man Taeshin had loved.

Hyun Woojin firmly grasped Haewon’s jaw as he tried to turn his face away and pushed him against the wall. Haewon’s back hit the wall, but before he could even register the dull ache, hot lips crushed his own. The force was unrelenting. Hyun Woojin’s tongue forced its way inside, his rough breaths scattering. Haewon pushed against Hyun Woojin’s shoulders, but they were so solid it felt like pressing against bricks. The man grabbed Haewon’s wrists and pinned them to the wall as if to keep him restrained.

“Mmph…!”

It felt as though his lips were on fire. A wet tongue invaded with reckless abandon, swirling deep within. Haewon struggled desperately, thrashing to free himself, but he couldn’t shake him off. Hyun Woojin finally pulled back momentarily after Haewon’s fierce resistance, his hot breath washing over Haewon’s face. But before Haewon could escape, he lunged again.

“Mm… ahh!”

Haewon’s protests grazed his ears, but he ignored them. Tilting his head sharply, Hyun Woojin attacked from below, forcing Haewon to yield and raising the intensity.

Haewon tried to push him away with his free hand, but Hyun Woojin’s wet tongue sliced through and delved deeper, licking and sucking with abandon. Finally, he released Haewon’s wrists, seemingly realizing they were the hands of a violinist—hands that, if damaged, could ruin everything.

Even with his hands freed, Haewon’s efforts to push him away were futile. Striking Hyun Woojin’s shoulders or shoving him did nothing. It was impossible to mount a full resistance while being kissed so aggressively, tongue and lips locked in a heated struggle.

Breathing became impossible. Haewon’s mind grew hazy, and the strength in his blows waned. His attempts to push him away slowed but never ceased entirely.

“Mmph… nn…”

A strange sound escaped, almost as if he were being choked. It wasn’t a noise Haewon had ever made before. The sound seemed to excite Hyun Woojin, whose breathing grew even hotter. Hyun Woojin sucked on Haewon’s lips with such fervor that they no longer felt like his own—they belonged to Hyun Woojin now.

Hyun Woojin devoured him like consuming flames, licking every inch of Haewon’s mouth. He swallowed the saliva pooling between them and continued with a ferocity that made Haewon’s chest feel like it might burst. Haewon pushed against his unyielding shoulders with all his might, but it was no use.

Just as Haewon thought the kiss might finally end, Hyun Woojin’s lips descended again, like a predator reclaiming its prey.

“Mm… ahh…”

The hands gripping Haewon’s waist tightened with crushing force before briefly releasing. When his grip lessened, Haewon let out a weak moan, but when the pressure returned, a pained gasp escaped. He wanted to beg Hyun Woojin’s tongue to stop, to let him go. His brain felt like it was melting under the heat.

Haewon had kissed many men before, but no kiss had ever obliterated his memories like this one. Hyun Woojin’s fervent tongue intertwined with his, tangling and licking with a raw intimacy that Haewon couldn’t escape.

They weren’t close enough to warrant such a kiss. Haewon barely knew anything about Hyun Woojin, other than the fact that he was the man Taeshin had loved.

Taeshin hadn’t died because of this man. He’d had other reasons for choosing to end his life. It had nothing to do with Hyun Woojin. At least, Haewon wanted to believe that. But beneath the messy guilt that churned within him, even as his mind grew faint and his defenses eroded, he couldn’t surrender everything to Hyun Woojin’s tongue.

After what felt like an eternity, their wet lips finally parted.

“Haah… haah… haah…”

As their lips broke apart, Hyun Woojin’s heavy breathing filled the space. Just when Haewon thought it was over, Hyun Woojin gave him no reprieve, closing the gap again.

“Mm… nn…”

The grip on Haewon’s waist was crushing, his hands kneading and releasing as though molding clay. When Hyun Woojin’s hold weakened, Haewon let out whimpering moans, but when the pressure returned, sharp breaths of pain escaped. The heat was overwhelming, leaving Haewon’s mind blank and his body trembling.

He had kissed so many people before, yet no kiss had ever obliterated his thoughts like this one. The way Hyun Woojin moved, the raw intensity of his tongue, left Haewon helpless.

Wet lips pulled away after what seemed like an eternity. For the first time in ages, Haewon could take a full breath.

Haewon had kissed many men before, but none of those kisses had ever erased his memories all at once like this one did. As the thick flesh moved, two tongues tangled and slid together in a wet embrace. Sensitive tendrils rubbed and licked at each other.

A friend of a friend wasn’t someone you’d kiss like this. Haewon knew very little about Hyun Woojin. The only thing he knew well was that he was the man Taeshin had liked.

Taeshin hadn’t died because of him. There was another reason why he chose to end his life. It had nothing to do with Hyun Woojin. Haewon wanted to believe that, but the filthy guilt that weighed on him caused his mind to go blank, and despite that, he couldn’t fully surrender himself to Hyun Woojin’s tongue. After what felt like an eternity, their wet lips finally parted.

“Haah… haah… haah…”

Their chests pressed against each other, desperately drawing in air, panting heavily. They trembled, colliding and rubbing against each other. His hands, gripping the other’s shoulders, were shaking uncontrollably. Trying to hold back his breath, Haewon’s eyes welled up with tears.

Haewon barely managed to lift his gaze. Their eyes met as if the other had been waiting for him. His piercing, clear eyes seemed even more intense. Reason and instinct blurred, making the boundary between day and night indistinct and unclear.

Hyun Woojin licked Haewon’s wet lips with his hot tongue. His sensitive skin trembled even at the slightest touch.

“Haah, what should I do? I have to go, but I can’t,” Hyun Woojin murmured.

“…Let go.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this to my friend’s friend,” he muttered to himself.

Haewon tried to push him away with a force so weak it was almost inviting. Of course, he didn’t budge. He released Haewon’s buttocks, which he had been gripping tightly with his entire hand.

His arm wrapped around Haewon’s waist and pulled him close, pressing their lower bodies together. Haewon could feel his throbbing pulse. It was terrible and painful. Haewon tried to turn his face away, but Hyun Woojin persistently followed, locking eyes with him.

“I shouldn’t want to do something to my friend’s friend that makes my head spin,” Hyun Woojin said.

“…Let go, let me go.”

“I shouldn’t.”

Why did you do this if you shouldn’t?

He was asking that question. He was blaming Haewon for what he himself had done, as if all of this was Haewon’s fault. Hyun Woojin asked this while still holding onto Haewon’s waist.

Haewon’s lips, which had been sucked hard, felt sore. Hyun Woojin, who had been staring into his eyes, lowered his gaze to Haewon’s lips. His tongue, as if wanting to suck more, as if wanting to crush and mangle in his mouth, moistened Haewon’s lips and rubbed against his sharp canines.

“Why are you silent? Say something more.”

Even though he disliked it and knew this shouldn’t be happening, Haewon, exhausted and too tired, gave up and leaned into him. As his stiff body relaxed and he put his weight on Hyun Woojin, it was as if Hyun Woojin was ready to continue where the kiss left off, pressing his lips to Haewon’s cheek and neck.

The sound of his breath and lips on Haewon’s sensitive spots made Haewon turn his head away, but Hyun Woojin’s hot, wet mouth followed, sucking on his skin and smelling his intensified scent.

“Don’t do this.”

“I will.”

“I said I don’t want to… I told you before.”

With his last bit of strength, Haewon pushed Hyun Woojin’s shoulder. Hyun Woojin, who had been attached to Haewon’s neck, lifted his face.

“Have we done this before?”

“I clearly said I didn’t want to.”

“What do you hate so much? Someone stealing your performance? Or a kiss that takes your breath away?”

Haewon shook his head. He didn’t avoid Hyun Woojin’s lips as they approached with an amused smile. Hyun Woojin’s wet lips touched Haewon’s, and Haewon murmured with their lips still pressed together.

“Stealing your friend’s man.”

Hyun Woojin’s chest swelled as he inhaled Haewon’s breath. As he exhaled, their touching chests parted. Haewon looked at him in bewilderment. Silent, Hyun Woojin’s passion cooled.

Hyun Woojin was wasting energy on meaningless actions. Realizing this, Haewon pushed his shoulder to signal him to step back, but Hyun Woojin’s arms tightly gripped Haewon’s waist, closing the gap.

“He’s dead,” Hyun Woojin said emotionlessly. The word “death” was spoken flatly. It offered no comfort, no justification, no rationalization.

“The world is full of men. I’m not desperate for a man,” Haewon murmured, as if denying Hyun Woojin’s words.

“See, you like spreading your legs for men. Why pretend you don’t? Why act like you don’t know?”

“I don’t do that for just anyone.”

“Am I just anyone?”

“You’re the most ‘just anyone’ there is.”

“Keep talking.”

“…You should.”

Hyun Woojin grabbed Haewon’s wrists as they slipped from his shoulders, one in each hand. He slowly raised them and pushed Haewon against the wall, immobilizing him. He leaned in as if ready to bite Haewon’s lips. As he opened his mouth to speak, his lips touched Haewon’s soft, wet lips.

“I could really do something to you.”

The words were chilling. As Haewon remained silent, panting, Hyun Woojin’s jacket pocket vibrated with an incoming call.

“Your phone is ringing.”

“I know.”

“Answer it. And let go of my hand. This hand is worth more than your ten years’ salary, so be careful. There are plenty of things here that can stab you.”

“I’m very curious to see what else that expensive hand can do besides playing music.”

Even as they exchanged these words, the phone kept ringing. Hyun Woojin sighed and stepped back. He took a step away and pulled out his phone from his jacket, checking the number before answering immediately.

“Hello.”

His voice changed instantly. It was as if he hadn’t just been biting Haewon’s lips, but was instead a diligent and passionate worker.

Haewon rubbed his wrist, which had been bruised even before Hyun Woojin grabbed it, as if blaming him for it.

As Haewon tried to slip out of his reach, Hyun Woojin, still on the phone, moved to block his path. When Haewon tried to escape the other way, Hyun Woojin swiftly blocked that path too. The step he had taken back closed in again, pressing against Haewon.

Haewon leaned against the wall. Hyun Woojin’s voice poured out from close to his face. Trapped between the wall and Hyun Woojin’s chest, Haewon had no room to escape. Hyun Woojin blocked one side with his arm to prevent Haewon from fleeing and continued his phone call.

“First, issue an arrest warrant. He’s denying the crime and there’s a risk of evidence destruction, so the likelihood of getting the warrant is higher. Otherwise, we’ll handle it with a post-arrest warrant.”

“…”

“No, I’ll be there soon. Yes.”

He hung up the phone. The black device disappeared into his jacket. The intense heat that had been about to explode in his eyes was gone as if it had never been there.

Haewon avoided his gaze, looking elsewhere. With the heat gone, an icy silence hung in the air. Suddenly, Hyun Woojin’s hand cupped Haewon’s cheek, forcing him to look at him. His voice was gently acting, but the strength in his grip felt like coercion.

“Look at this. Do you know how hard it was for me to make time today?”

“Use that hard-earned time where it’s needed. Don’t waste it on the wrong things.”

“I think I deserve at least this much from Moon Haewon. I hate flattery the most, but I think I have that much right. Besides, today is Christmas. Love should be overflowing all over the world.”