SB Ch 15

As they were about to head back home with a cup of coffee in hand, Chae Beomjoon gestured toward another path.

“Care for a little walk?”

“What, you trying to date me now?”

The question was sharp, as it didn’t seem like they were close enough for leisurely strolls. But Chae Beomjoon responded with a casual smile, as if dating wasn’t even on his radar.

“Must be my age showing—I get indigestion if I lie down right after eating. But if laundry’s on the agenda, I’ll head back up.”

Seo Haeyoon had never shared such mundane moments with a casual hookup before, but something about Beomjoon’s self-deprecating joke disarmed him. That’s how he ended up walking through Seoul Forest in the fall with Chae Beomjoon.

“Feels like autumn,” Beomjoon remarked.

“Yeah…it does.”

As September neared its end, the leaves began to turn. Early-fallen leaves, battered and torn, rolled along the ground under the feet of passersby. Haeyoon glanced at them with a faint trace of pity.

Even the fall of leaves followed an order. The earliest buds on the highest branches received nutrients until late winter, holding on longer. Conversely, the later leaves, deprived of sustenance, dried out quickly and fell first.

How futile it must be for those leaves that never even had a chance to fully bask in the sun—born late, only to wither early. How melancholic to lie on the ground, looking up at the leaves still clinging to the branches above. With such thoughts, Haeyoon realized he might be feeling the weight of autumn, and he continued walking.

“So, how’d you end up getting a place around here?” Beomjoon asked out of the blue.

Haeyoon, caught mid-step by the crunching leaves underfoot, tilted his head.

“Why not assume I’m a local?”

It was as if Beomjoon knew Haeyoon had only moved to the area recently. Right? Otherwise, why ask how he’d “ended up” here instead of how long he’d lived here?

“That’s an odd question,” Haeyoon replied, suspicion lacing his tone.

Beomjoon blinked, then casually turned his head, a small laugh escaping as he clarified what Haeyoon had overlooked.

“Your apartment’s new construction, isn’t it? You must’ve moved in recently.”

“…Fair enough.”

Indeed, his place was the newest building in the area, with only a little over a year since its opening. Beomjoon seemed aware of this detail, hence the question.

“Why are you so suspicious all the time? Had a big scam in your past or something?”

“Not a scam, exactly, but something similar.”

Nine times. He’d been blindsided by people he’d once called lovers nine separate times.

Still, it wasn’t just because of that. Haeyoon had always been headstrong and skeptical, only trusting what he could verify with his own eyes. He’d never told anyone, but sometimes, he even questioned whether humans had actually landed on the moon.

“What happened? Did you get caught up in some cult or something?”

“Do I look like someone who’d fall for that?”

“Maybe a little? Or…did a lover betray you?”

Beomjoon’s teasing remark earned a scoff. It seemed like he was curious about Haeyoon’s love life, but Haeyoon had no intention of indulging him. He already knew what kind of expression Beomjoon would make if he confessed to being duped by lovers nine times over.

Raised eyebrows, a look that said, What kind of fool falls for that? Or perhaps outright derision. Haeyoon wasn’t in the mood to ruin his evening over that, so he tossed his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash bin.

“Are we going to see the deer?”

“They’ll be closed by now.”

A little further down the path was the deer enclosure. The smell of dung could be overwhelming, but the deer themselves were charming enough to make up for it. Beomjoon’s answer suggested he’d been here plenty of times.

“Well, let’s head back, then,” Haeyoon said, grabbing Beomjoon’s arm to turn them around. As they retraced their steps, he asked, curiosity finally getting the better of him. Beomjoon seemed too skilled at casual outings for someone claiming no relationship experience.

“So, how many casual partners have you had?”

“…”

There was no reply.

What the—? Haeyoon looked up to see Beomjoon standing still, a peculiar smile playing on his lips. Mischief sparkled in his sharp eyes.

“What?” Haeyoon shot him a displeased look, but Beomjoon just chuckled and threw back a cheeky question.

“Why are you so curious about my track record?”

“What do you mean, so curious?”

“You’ve asked before—how many times I’ve had sex, how many relationships I’ve been in. And fisting, too. Now you’re asking how many partners I’ve had? What’s with the curiosity? Are you suddenly dying to know all about me?”

Ah. So that smug expression was because he thought Haeyoon was interested in him.

Seo Haeyoon let out a disbelieving laugh. Interested? Not even remotely. Shaking his head as if to dismiss the ridiculous idea, he gave Beomjoon a light slap on the arm and clarified.

“Mister, this isn’t that kind of interest.”

“Really? To me, it feels exactly like that kind of interest. So, what excuse are you going to give this time? Let’s hear it.”

“If I had to explain, think of it as an origin check.”

“…Origin check?”

Beomjoon’s face scrunched up, which amused Haeyoon more than he cared to admit. Perhaps this was why he kept wanting to tease the man—it was entertaining to throw him off balance. Haeyoon definitely preferred this unguarded side of Beomjoon. Looking at his handsome yet slightly agitated face, Haeyoon continued.

“Just figuring out if you’re organic, inorganic, wild-caught, or farm-raised.”

“And what are you going to do with that information?”

“What would I do? Nothing, really. Just nice to know what I’m picking up.”

“…”

Haeyoon shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. Beomjoon narrowed his eyes, as though his pride had taken a hit, and tossed his empty coffee cup into a trash bin, much like Haeyoon had done earlier. His tone turned sarcastic as he replied.

“Thorough, aren’t you? Well, for your information, Beomjoon Farms is 100% wild-caught. About 500 farmers watered the crop, and maybe five or six fertilized it regularly. No pesticides were used. Does that answer your question?”

The biting humor in his explanation was oddly funny. Haeyoon burst into laughter, looking at Beomjoon’s face, which had turned petulant like a child offended by being treated like produce.

“Wild-caught, but you have farmers? Are you an idiot?”

“I don’t know, but apparently, they exist.”

Still chuckling, Haeyoon reached out and gently patted Beomjoon’s cheek, a silent gesture to say, Don’t sulk.

With such trivial chatter, they made their way back to Haeyoon’s apartment. He lived on the 14th floor—a bit lower than Beomjoon’s place but still high enough for a decent view. As he punched in the key code, Haeyoon gave a warning.

“Beomjoon, don’t touch anything.”

The stern tone earned a laugh from Beomjoon.

“Do I look like an app?”

“Aren’t you?”

“If you’re mistaking me for one, it’s only because I’ve been matching your mental age.”

“No, I adjusted to yours first.”

“Wow…”

Laughing and exchanging quips, they stepped inside.

Shoes off, they entered a spotless apartment. A short hallway led straight to the living room.

If Beomjoon’s place gave off a cozy vibe, Haeyoon’s was sleek and orderly. The furniture was minimal, and everything was in monochrome tones. The sole exception was the living room, which stood out as a space dedicated to music.

A grand piano dominated the area, accompanied by a double bass laid gently on its side. Nearby were a music stand and a chair upholstered in deep green velvet. The soft glow of evening lights, which turned on automatically, bathed the setup like a stage prepared solely for Haeyoon.

“This is…”

Following Beomjoon’s curious gaze, Haeyoon let a small smile tug at his lips.

They’d never talked about their professions before. Beomjoon had no idea what Haeyoon did for a living, but the double bass would probably give it away. If Haeyoon admitted he was a musician, the next request would undoubtedly be to play something, as every other visitor had done before.

But Haeyoon had never performed for anyone who visited his home. It wasn’t because he was shy; it was because the conversations that led up to such requests always annoyed him.

“Is that a cello? Or a double bass? Oh, so you’re the guy in the orchestra who plays background music? Guess you can’t play solo, then?”

Most people said things like that upon seeing his double bass. Some couldn’t even distinguish between a double bass and a cello. Not everyone had a basic grasp of orchestral instruments.

Sure, Beomjoon’s apartment had a piano, so maybe he’d understand better. But then again, that piano was practically a wooden bed for post-sex lounging. Who knew if he’d get it?

“…”

As Haeyoon was lost in thought, Chae Beomjoon, mid-conversation, stopped walking at a spot where the practice setup was fully visible. His calm gaze fell on the double bass, standing there in all its elegant glory.

“A double bass, huh.”

Kontrabass in German, double bass in English. In Korea, people often combined the terms awkwardly, calling it a “contrabass.” Yet, Chae Beomjoon had gotten the name right.

Well, for the wealthy, such knowledge could easily fall within the realm of cultural refinement. Especially in Korea, where people took pride in being well-informed.

Without replying, Seo Haeyoon merely shrugged, observing Beomjoon. He was prepared to counter any strange remark but was surprised to find the man seemed genuinely serious.

“Hmm…”

Chae Beomjoon stared at the instrument for a moment before slowly shifting his gaze to the piano next to it. Then, back to the double bass. Finally, his eyes landed on Seo Haeyoon.

“Your interior design is…unique.”

And just like that, he ruined it.

“…What?”

Haeyoon blinked, his large eyes wide in disbelief. What did this man just say? His incredulous stare only made Beomjoon flash a small, handsome smile.

“Does it make any sound? You bought it secondhand, didn’t you?”

Even without specifying a subject, it was clear what he meant. Haeyoon felt his blood pressure spike at the sheer absurdity of the question. He’d never imagined someone would dare say such a thing to him.

“No, it’s mine!”

How could he even say that?

The sheer nerve left Haeyoon dumbfounded. The double bass was in impeccable condition—elegant to the point of luxury—yet Beomjoon was the first person to dismiss it as mere décor.

At the ridiculous comment, Haeyoon let out an exasperated sigh and raked a hand through his hair. Was this man an actual idiot? His voice, laced with irritation, rose sharply.

“Mister, don’t I look like someone who plays it? Doesn’t it suit me perfectly?”

He’d heard that countless times before. People often said the double bass suited him. Probably because of his height—it was a perfect match.

But instead of agreeing, Beomjoon laughed, as if a realization had dawned on him.

“Ah, so you’re a pianist? That’s why you acted all high and mighty back then.”

…Was this man blind? Perhaps it was time to send him off to a nursing home.

“The double bass is mine! The piano is just for accompanists!”

Frustrated by Beomjoon’s relentless misjudgments, Haeyoon practically shouted. Beomjoon’s eyes went wide in surprise, as if he was finally understanding. But no—he wasn’t. He glanced Haeyoon up and down, then tilted his head with an expression of doubt.

“The double bass? You, Seo Haeyoon?”

“Ha…”

“That’s a hard instrument to play, isn’t it?”

“It’s not hard, okay?!”

Heat rushed to Haeyoon’s face as his pride took a hit. To borrow Ahn Yewon’s phrasing, he was absolutely pissed.

What was that look? That skeptical stare, as if asking, Someone like you can play that?

What about me? What’s wrong with me?

Fuming, Haeyoon shot a glare at Beomjoon. His insides churned with irritation. Being sensitive about his music, Haeyoon couldn’t let this slide. Meeting Beomjoon’s doubtful eyes, he rolled up his sleeves.

“What if I play it properly? Then what?”

“Well, I could probably manage ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ myself.”

Even with an unfamiliar instrument, someone with perfect pitch could handle a simple melody. But Haeyoon wasn’t talking about nursery rhymes.

“Not that kind of thing! Real music!”

Haeyoon, his pride now thoroughly wounded, glared at him with triangular eyes. His words came out like a threat, but Beomjoon just laughed as if the very idea was absurd. After pondering for a moment, he touched his cheek and glanced slyly at Haeyoon.

“All right, if you play, I’ll grant you one wish—whatever you want.”

“Fine. One wish—and you have to use formal speech.”

“…I’m already using it enough. Did the definition of formal speech change without my knowing?”

“Behave respectfully!”

Chae Beomjoon’s so-called polite speech didn’t quite feel polite at all. Grinding his teeth, Seo Haeyoon declared this sharply and strode toward the corner of the practice space, where he picked up a bow and some rosin.

The sound of the rosin being rubbed onto the bow’s hairs was reminiscent of a knife being sharpened on a whetstone. With an intense, piercing gaze, Haeyoon inspected the bow before cradling the double bass to begin tuning it.

Using the absolute pitch he had developed in childhood, he fine-tuned each note to perfection. One hand adjusted the machine heads high above, while the other moved with the bow. The resulting vibrations resonated through the aged wood, producing a rich, pleasant tone.

As the prelude to the performance unfolded, the sharpness in Seo Haeyoon’s eyes softened, his gaze lowering in quiet concentration. His expression grew deeply serious.

“…”

Chae Beomjoon watched him for a while. When it became clear the tuning process wouldn’t end quickly, he leisurely began to explore the living room. However, he didn’t venture into the other rooms, his steps circling only near Haeyoon.

He stood by the window, looking down at the path they’d walked earlier, then opened the refrigerator. Clicking his tongue briefly, he carried a chair from the kitchen and set it in front of the practice space.

Sitting down neatly, he unbuttoned his jacket, crossed his legs elegantly, and folded his arms. Seeing this, Seo Haeyoon raised a disdainful eyebrow.

The pose was insufferably arrogant.

“What’s with that attitude?”

“It seems to lack decorum, but I can’t help it,” Beomjoon said with a faint smile, gesturing toward his crotch.

The noticeable bulge, an unmistakable sign of arousal, was partly hidden by his crossed legs.

…What did I even do? At what point did this excite him?

Although confused, Haeyoon couldn’t deny a flicker of thrill at the sight of Beomjoon’s prominent size. After all, the man’s presence in his home was originally intended for sex.

Still, Haeyoon couldn’t let the earlier pianist comment slide without addressing it. He swallowed dryly, forcing himself to ignore the distracting sight of Beomjoon’s crotch.

“Listen carefully. I’m only going to play this once.”

“I’m all ears.”

If Beomjoon dared to criticize the double bass afterward, Haeyoon was fully prepared to strangle him with the bow. Yet, for now, Beomjoon nodded seriously, his demeanor surprisingly earnest.

Staring at Beomjoon’s now-serious expression, Haeyoon lowered his gaze, gripped the bow, and began to play.

A slow melody rose, drifting like fallen leaves carried by the wind. It floated, swayed, and glided, the notes smooth and rich.

It was Sicilienne by Gabriel Fauré.

This lyrical piece, often associated with autumn, was best known for its flute and harp arrangement. The introduction alone was enough to make anyone instantly recognize it. Though its piano arrangement was also popular, its rendition on the double bass was relatively unknown.

Indeed, double bass performances of Sicilienne were rare, making this a unique treat.

As the music unfolded, Haeyoon felt the weight of Beomjoon’s gaze. Every time he glanced down the neck of the instrument while pressing the heavy strings, Beomjoon’s unwavering eyes met him.

That stare felt like it was binding him, almost suffocating. Haeyoon moved his arms, trying to shake off the unease. His breathing grew labored, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

He was used to Beomjoon’s persistent attention, but today it felt especially intense. Not once did Beomjoon blink, his gaze unwavering, even as Haeyoon’s eyes grew misty and tears welled up.

“…Haah.”

When the performance finally ended, Haeyoon lowered his arm holding the bow. His hand drooped limply, and Beomjoon’s gaze followed its descent, lingering on the callouses etched into Haeyoon’s skin. Slowly, Beomjoon lifted his head to meet Haeyoon’s eyes.

In the heavy, charged silence, their gazes locked, heated and unspoken emotions swirling between them. Neither spoke. They simply looked at one another, their stares intimate, as if exploring the other’s depths.

The silence was broken by Beomjoon.

“Fauré’s Sicilienne.”

Haeyoon’s lips parted slightly in surprise. While he had expected Beomjoon to recognize the melody, he hadn’t thought the man would know its title.

Seeing Haeyoon’s widened eyes, Beomjoon smirked faintly.

“Can you also play Bach’s Siciliano?”

Sicilienne (or Siciliano) wasn’t merely a title but a musical form. Depending on the composer’s nationality, the name might vary slightly, as with Fauré’s Sicilienne or Bach’s Siciliano.

Thinking back to the time he’d visited Beomjoon’s home, Haeyoon recalled never hearing him play the piano. He had dismissed it as decorative. After all, Beomjoon struck him as the kind of man who’d buy a piano simply to impress someone—or, perhaps, to set the mood for sex.

Unexpectedly, he seemed to have a deep knowledge of music. And Siciliano…Hearing that name after such a long time, Seo Haeyoon licked his lips with an indescribable feeling.

But his hesitation didn’t last long. Haeyoon briefly gazed at the man who waited patiently without urging him, then silently picked up his bow. Soon, a melancholic melody, different from the previous piece, began to flow from his fingertips. This was the first time Seo Haeyoon played Siciliano in front of another person.

Bach’s Siciliano.

Originally composed as a sonata for flute and harpsichord—a keyboard instrument similar to a piano but widely used before the piano’s popularization—the piece was so beautiful that it had been arranged into various versions.

Whether played with a cello or violin, one instrument typically accompanied the piano. However, in this instance, it was a double bass solo by Seo Haeyoon. Because of this, the sound felt much emptier than the original.

Nevertheless, the tone Haeyoon produced harmonized well with the silence. Resonating with the occasional stillness, the lingering vibrations gave the impression that the music continued uninterrupted.

Bach’s Siciliano, unlike his other works, is an elegant piece imbued with restrained sorrow and profound lyricism. Played on the double bass, it felt even more composed and poignant. Each time Haeyoon moved the bow and drew it roughly across the strings, the sadness seemed to flow out, not as tears, but as melody.

This was the piece Seo Haeyoon’s mother had last performed before she passed away.

It was the piece that inspired young Haeyoon, who had learned the violin and cello, to take up the double bass. As an adult, he hadn’t performed it properly even once.

Yet, not for a moment had he forgotten the melody. As if he had played it just yesterday, Haeyoon was entirely immersed in the tune.

The emotions he felt now were starkly different from those during his practice sessions in memory of his mother. Back then, he had been overwhelmed with tears, but now he observed the sorrow from a step back, knowing it was all in the past.

“Haah…”

When the long performance finally ended, Seo Haeyoon let out a breath he had been holding. Thinking back, even when he had performed in orchestras or during interviews, it had always been in front of several people. It had been a long time since he played the double bass for just one person.

Perhaps that’s why it felt awkward to look at Chae Beomjoon’s face. Not because he was embarrassed about performing, but because he had allowed himself to get so lost in the music with him right there.

“…”

His flushed neck burned from concentration. Haeyoon set the bow down on the nearby table and rested the double bass on its stand. He swallowed dryly and opened his mouth.

“I didn’t know Mister knew Bach…”

That’s what he meant to say.

But as he turned, Chae Beomjoon, who had approached silently, wrapped an arm around Haeyoon’s waist. Haeyoon could still feel the swelling below his belt. Startled, he tilted his head up.

“Do you play with intention?”

“…What intention?”

That question was, in itself, incomprehensible. When Haeyoon asked back, confused, Chae Beomjoon licked his dry lips, his gaze trailing over Haeyoon’s composed features. It was only after a long pause that he finally spoke.

“When you play, what are you thinking about?”

What was he thinking about…?

Seo Haeyoon reflected on the moments just passed. In fact, he tried to recall what he had thought during every moment he wielded the bow and made music. Yet, nothing came to mind. Because…

“I don’t think about anything. I just…play as my heart guides me.”

That was all.

When playing, Seo Haeyoon simply let his body follow the melody he knew, surrendering to the flow without deliberate thought. Instead of calculating notes while reading sheet music, he stubbornly relied on instinct to perfectly realize the melodies in his mind. That approach allowed him to move the bow in precisely the way he wanted.

The friction between steel strings and horsehair transformed into beautiful music through this process. Was that an adequate answer?

“You…”

The man, who had been silent, finally spoke in a low, subdued voice. It almost sounded choked.

As their eyes met, Chae Beomjoon swallowed, the motion visible along his throat. Then, with a faint smile, he pressed his forehead to Haeyoon’s.

“I didn’t know you could play like that.”

Though he usually teased and joked, this remark didn’t sound like a jest. The breath escaping him was warm.

Chae Beomjoon was clearly overwhelmed. The admiration filling his voice reached Haeyoon too. As if infected, his heart, connected to the other’s, raced uncontrollably.

“…What did you think of it?”

“It makes me cry, you know.”

“You make people cry.”

Seo Haeyoon was dazed by the expression he had never heard before. He had heard that the man played uniquely, but he had never heard such a sound before. However, the moist eyes of the man close by told him that his words were not a lie.

He felt strange. With a queasy feeling, Seo Haeyoon swallowed something unfamiliar and retorted.

“…I’m not crying.”

“Sometimes you feel like you’ve sobbed even if you haven’t shed tears. That’s me. Listening to Seo Haeyoon’s performance makes me feel like I’ve had a good cry.”

Seo Haeyoon started playing the double bass because he missed his mother. It was after he heard the last performance she left behind.

For 10 years, it took exactly 10 years for him to stop thinking about his mother after starting the double bass. During that time, Haeyoon’s performances were always tinged with sadness. Every time he played that deep resonant sound unique to the double bass, Haeyoon cried internally.

After becoming an adult and being able to play with his own style, it became a blurred memory. But the man in front of him noticed what no one else had.

He read the traces of sadness left in Haeyoon’s performance and empathized with it. He said it was as sad as having cried his heart out…

“There was a reason you told me to be careful with my hands.”

The performance he started in anger returned with words warmer and sweeter than anything else. As Chae Beomjoon said words no one had ever said to Seo Haeyoon, he lifted his limp hand. He gently kissed the tips of Haeyoon’s fingers, hardened from rigorous practice, and smiled.

He had seen that smile many times before…At that moment, Seo Haeyoon felt the thrill that had enveloped his entire body the first time he held the double bass and drew the bow.

“Was it good…?”

“It was amazing.”

The answer, given with a smiling gaze, was exhilarating.

Unable to resist the praise from the audience in front of him, Seo Haeyoon reached out his hand. He wanted to kiss him. Immediately, he grabbed his cheeks, tilted his head, and kissed him. He begged for a kiss, pushing his tongue through his slightly parted lips.

Chae Beomjoon laughed, his shoulders shaking, and granted his request. Holding Seo Haeyoon by the waist, he slowly moved and sat down in the spot where he had been. Placing Seo Haeyoon on his thigh, he continued the sweet kiss.

“Ah, uh….”

Seo Haeyoon’s pleased kiss was more urgent than usual. As if he were about to headbutt him, he bit his lips, and Chae Beomjoon raised his arm as if to calm him down. He gently stroked his back under Haeyoon’s shirt. As his hand reached his buttocks, Seo Haeyoon flinched and turned his head away. At that moment, Chae Beomjoon followed him, gently biting Haeyoon’s lower lip, and asked.

“Do you also accept encores? I want to hear it again….”

Wanting to be the star of the curtain call. Chae Beomjoon’s voice requesting an encore overlapped with the message someone had left.

It was the first time he had received such close praise from an audience. Feeling like he could fly, Seo Haeyoon smiled innocently like a child.

“Yes, I’ll do it especially for you….”

However, he did not pick up the bow again. Seo Haeyoon simply kissed Chae Beomjoon with a pleased expression.

Seo Haeyoon, on top, lazily moved his hips with a relaxed expression. The smooth contact of their genitals created foam as their fluids mixed. The sound of their wet contact filled the space as much as the performance had.

“Ah, does it feel that good here?”

* * *

As Seo Haeyoon moved his body with both hands on Chae Beomjoon’s shoulders, he bowed his head and eagerly sucked on Haeyoon’s nipple, exposed above his clothes.

Seo Haeyoon loved having his chest caressed. Whenever he got a little excited, he would touch his nipples first, and he would stimulate himself until Chae Beomjoon put his mouth there.

Since he pressed that area roughly with his own hands, he didn’t mind even when Chae Beomjoon bit and pressed hard with his teeth. Enthralled by his shameless appearance as he thrust his chest forward, he was highly aroused and continued to suck.

“Ah, yes, it feels good, ah, it feels good, Mister….”

As usual, when he got excited, Seo Haeyoon’s words trailed off. He whispered in his beautiful voice as if pleading. Chae Beomjoon’s senses soared to new heights, contrasting with his appearance when playing the double bass.

“Why did you take it out if you were going to enjoy it like this, ah?”

“Ah, just, you can’t do it….”

Seo Haeyoon, who had received proper sex education, shook his head vigorously.

As the kissing turned into foreplay and they were about to proceed to penetration, Seo Haeyoon tried to move to another place, saying they couldn’t do it here. The reason was that they didn’t have a condom.

Of course, Chae Beomjoon, who always carried a condom somewhere on his body, took it out of his pocket, and Seo Haeyoon immediately spread his legs.

“Why? I’m, uh, pretty clean.”

Chae Beomjoon, realizing the reason for Seo Haeyoon’s refusal, said this jokingly. Seo Haeyoon, who was moving his hips to insert himself, burst into laughter at those words.

Ahahaha, his innocent laughter made the lower part tighten with each sound. Ah, he felt like he was about to come. Overwhelmed by the stimulation, Chae Beomjoon licked his lips and looked up. Haeyoon was there, his eyes flushed.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Ah, Mister is, ah, the most, uh…!”

Sensing that something strange was about to follow, Chae Beomjoon quickly thrust his hips. As his penis stirred inside, Seo Haeyoon silently shivered, throwing his head back. Realizing that Haeyoon was about to ejaculate, Beomjoon stopped moving. He wanted to stay like this, their bodies pressed together, just a little longer.

Only then did Seo Haeyoon’s breath escape, and his chest heaved again. His erect penis, stuck to his lower abdomen, was bright red. Even without touching it intentionally, Seo Haeyoon could ejaculate just from being stimulated from behind.

“You’re the most sensitive person I’ve ever met…”

To calm his ejaculation, Chae Beomjoon gently stroked his back. At that touch, Haeyoon panted and leaned forward, embracing him. With his face resting on Chae Beomjoon’s shoulder, he spoke in a languid voice.

“Mister is, the biggest slut I’ve ever met…”

Determined to say what he wanted, Haeyoon finally completed his sentence. Chae Beomjoon wondered what he was going to say, but it turned out to be a tolerable slut-shaming.

“Does that mean the sex with me is the best?”

Interpreting it his own way, Beomjoon rotated his hips. His fully erect penis moved inside the loosened hole. Every time the thick glans gently rubbed against the wrinkled inner walls, he could feel the man in his arms growing hotter.

Holding Seo Haeyoon with one hand to keep him from falling, Chae Beomjoon caressed his chest with the other hand. Suddenly overcome by an impulse, he said something nonsensical.

“But, ah, isn’t being a slut a good thing?”

“What, ah, what’s good about it?”

“You suck well, you fuck well, and you kiss well.”

“What are you talking about…”

“You like kissing me, don’t you?”

Seo Haeyoon scoffed as if it were ridiculous. It was absurd. After begging for a kiss like that, now he was acting like he didn’t care. Feeling disappointed, Beomjoon reached down and grabbed Seo Haeyoon’s buttocks, twisting them firmly. As Haeyoon moaned in pleasure, Chae Beomjoon thrust his tongue into the man’s parted lips and lifted his hips.

“Ah, uh, ah!”

He moaned in pleasure every time he was penetrated deeply. Even after ejaculating and soaking his backside, he panted as if it wasn’t enough. Chae Beomjoon childishly stimulated him, biting his parted lips. As the man shook his head, saying it hurt, Chae Beomjoon persistently clung to him, biting and sucking his tender flesh.

“Say you like it.”

“Ah, not this, ah, kiss me, please?”

Even when he made a cute request, lowering his eyelids, Chae Beomjoon pretended not to hear, determined not to kiss him until he said he liked it. He bit Haeyoon’s extended tongue. Frustrated by the teasing bites, Haeyoon finally admitted it.

“Ah, I like it, I like it!”

“You need to get the subject right.”

“Ah, ah, uh, Mister is…!”

Not the kiss with me, but you like me?

Although he knew Haeyoon had misspoken in the heat of the moment, Chae Beomjoon couldn’t help but feel a deep satisfaction. Deliberately not letting Haeyoon finish his sentence, Beomjoon pressed his lips to Haeyoon’s and kissed him softly, just as he wanted.

Staring intently at the dazed man, he kissed him and then, at some point, grabbed his buttocks and spread them wide, penetrating deeply. Haeyoon panted and pulled Beomjoon’s head down. He wanted his nipples sucked.

“Ah, ah, yes, harder!”

As the moans intensified, Haeyoon’s chest pressed against Beomjoon’s face. The nipple, swollen from being constantly bitten, rolled around in his mouth. He pressed the center of the nipple with his tongue, then licked it in circular motions. He sucked it hard, making a smacking sound, then let go, and Haeyoon enjoyed it, clenching his teeth.

“Ah, uh, Mister, ah…!”

Seo Haeyoon, who was grasping his hair and enduring the pleasure, started moving his hips again. The friction from their combined fluids made the initial penetration tight, but now, with the lubrication from their bodily fluids, the penis slid in smoothly.

Every time the penis moved in and out, a thrilling pleasure surged through his entire body. Seo Haeyoon focused on stimulating the areas that felt good to him. Every time Haeyoon’s buttocks swayed back and forth, the urge to ejaculate surged. Ignoring it, Chae Beomjoon focused on the breast in front of him.

“Ah, it’s so hot here.”

“There, uh, it feels good, ah, ah…”

He licked the areola from bottom to top with his wide tongue. Then, he bit into the flesh and greedily licked it. Seo Haeyoon moaned in pleasure. Chae Beomjoon looked up to steal a glance at the face flushed with ecstasy.

His face, usually flushed a healthy pink, was even redder than usual. His eyes were flushed too, and his full lips were red as if he had bitten into a strawberry. He looked like someone in the midst of sex. His clear face revealed all his excitement…

Over that, the image of him playing the Siciliano overlapped. Seo Haeyoon, with his eyes downcast, immersed in the sound he was creating.

It was amazing that one person could have such different aspects simultaneously. The pleasure-seeking Seo Haeyoon and the silently bow-playing Seo Haeyoon were the same person, which was fascinating.

Perhaps he was drawn to that gap.

Perhaps he was sinking into the chasm between Seo Haeyoon the double bassist and Seo Haeyoon the sex partner in front of him.

He wanted to know more about him, and now he wanted to watch him play for a long time by his side. A clear desire was rising within him.

* * *

After the sweet night passed, Chae Beomjoon woke up early on Saturday morning and left Seo Haeyoon sleeping. He looked around Haeyoon’s house. He couldn’t open one small room without being shown, so he went back and forth between the bedroom, kitchen, and living room.

As far as Chae Beomjoon knew, it was a 30-pyeong apartment, but the actual living space wasn’t that large. There was a living room connected to the kitchen and two bedrooms. The master bedroom had a small dressing room and a bathroom with a bathtub, and there was another bathroom outside. It was cozy and nice, but it wasn’t a good house for two people to live in.

…Live together?

Beomjoon shook his head to clear the sudden thought. This is really not it. He continued to move, denying the meaningless thoughts.

Anyway, he had something to do. He checked Haeyoon’s kitchen with a sharp gaze. He wanted to see if there was any food.

However, the built-in refrigerator was almost empty. There were leftover salad bits and green-colored beef tenderloin.

What a mess. Chae Beomjoon frowned and immediately contacted the 24-hour VIP service. He ordered them to bring the ingredients needed to make a simple meal to Seo Haeyoon’s house. He received a message that they would arrive in 30 minutes.

While waiting for the ingredients, he busily tidied up the living room. After doing 100 split squats for a firm butt and push-ups to pump up his chest muscles, 30 minutes had passed.

He took a quick shower, borrowed Seo Haeyoon’s robe, and opened the front door. He brought in the items neatly placed at the door and organized them in the refrigerator.

The ingredients weren’t much. Today was Saturday, and although he had off until Tuesday, he had an appointment with Su-seon-hwa tomorrow, so he had to go back to his own house. So, he had only ordered enough ingredients for today’s breakfast and lunch.

What should I make…

After realizing that Seo Haeyoon was the double bassist he had chosen, Beomjoon looked at his support documents. They listed Seo Haeyoon’s schools and orchestra experience. He had been living in the US until recently, for at least 10 years. So, Beomjoon decided to make an American-style breakfast, an omelette.

But just eggs would seem insincere, so he planned to add ham, potatoes, and Gouda cheese. He diced the ingredients into squares.

He fried the ham first, then cooked the potatoes in the remaining oil until crispy. After the ingredients were cooked, he set them aside in a dish. He melted butter and made an omelette, adding the cheese, ham, and potatoes when the eggs were almost cooked. The yellow omelette looked delicious. He then toasted the bread he had ordered and plated it with crispy bacon.

After making the coffee, Chae Beomjoon took a tray from the cabinet and placed the dishes and utensils on it. He quickly filled his stomach with the leftover ingredients and, before the omelette cooled completely, carried the tray into the bedroom.

The room was dimly lit because he had drawn the curtains to block the morning sunlight streaming through the window. He placed the tray on the table by the window and opened the curtains to brighten the room, then opened the window for ventilation.

The breeze blowing in from the Han River and Seoul Forest was refreshingly cool. He closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze for a moment when he suddenly heard a voice from behind.

“The service in this house is great…”

It was a lazy voice filled with laughter. He’s awake. Turning his head, he saw Seo Haeyoon getting up from the bed, naked.

His strikingly white body was reddened in places. Chae Beomjoon’s bite marks were scattered across his chest, and his usually pink penis was erect, filled with morning blood. His tall, slender body looked more artistic than obscene.

“I’m sleepy…”

He murmured like a child, his flushed lips parting in a small yawn. The sight of him, completely without guard, stirred Chae Beomjoon. He walked over and grabbed Seo Haeyoon’s waist.

“I like omelettes…”

He swallowed those words.

His full lips were crushed beneath Chae Beomjoon’s. Seo Haeyoon smelled sweet. Chae Beomjoon moistened Haeyoon’s dry tongue with his saliva and continually stroked his smooth, naked body with his hands.

Seo Haeyoon looked surprised for a moment, his eyes widening, but soon accepted it as the start of sex and jumped up to cling to Chae Beomjoon.

“Ah, it’s morning, so we should do it once.”

That’s right. It’s not because he wanted to touch Seo Haeyoon and hold him all day; it’s because it’s morning. It’s natural to masturbate to calm an erection. Healthy masturbation is a source of vitality in daily life.

Rationalizing this, Chae Beomjoon held Seo Haeyoon with one hand and untied the belt of his robe.

His cleanly washed penis was already fully erect. Although he always insisted on using a condom during penetration, he didn’t mind during frotting. So, Chae Beomjoon leaned Seo Haeyoon against the window and wrapped both of their penises in his hand.

“Ah, it feels good…”

Seo Haeyoon, his face still sleepy, threw his head back. Unlike usual, his messy hair revealed his pretty face. Large eyes, particularly full lips, a small, cute nose, and a long neckline that made him look like a deer.

The slightly parted mouth revealed a pretty pink tongue. Chae Beomjoon touched his tongue to Haeyoon’s like a dog and gripped the smooth penis tightly with his large hand.

“Mm, uh…”

Seo Haeyoon leaned against the window, warmed by the autumn sunlight, and caressed Chae Beomjoon’s neck and chest with both hands. Just touching his well-muscled body was exciting, and his face flushed even more.

“Ah, ha, did you sleep well?”

“Yes, uh-huh…”

“Your erection makes it look like you did.”

Beomjoon smiled softly and kissed his thin cheek. Below the gentle kisses, his hand strongly rubbed the grooved glans.

Although Chae Beomjoon’s penis was only stimulated halfway due to the length difference, it still felt good. Both of their penises were smooth and hairless, making the skin incredibly soft. The glistening skin rubbed together, quickly heightening their arousal.

Chae Beomjoon tensed his buttocks and tightly gripped Seo Haeyoon’s smaller penis. With only his fingertips wrapped around his own penis, he moved his wrist to stimulate the glans and shaft.

“Ah, ha, it feels good, ah…”

Between Chae Beomjoon’s lazy moans, the sound of skin rubbing together continuously escaped. His lips eagerly pressed against Seo Haeyoon’s tilted jawline. As he licked his white cheek and thrust his hips, his tightly drawn testicles hit Haeyoon’s scrotum. His buttocks tingled with intense excitement.

“Uh, uh…!”

Haeyoon closed his eyes tightly and bit his lip. His white teeth parting his full lower lip looked like porcelain. Chae Beomjoon licked his lip and continuously moved his hand up and down, wrapping his smooth penis in his palm. The sensation of the two glans touching was an excellent stimulant.

“Ugh…”

Soon, thick, white semen shot out from both urethras, soaking their bodies. Chae Beomjoon’s chiseled upper body and Seo Haeyoon’s smooth abdomen were drenched in the viscous white liquid.