“…What the hell.”
Go Hoon muttered under his breath, the panic in his voice unmistakable.
His arm was caught, and without thinking, his feet moved—staggering backward. As he retreated in hesitant steps, Bae Jung-yoon followed, closing the distance between them.
Before he knew it, his back was pressed against the wall. Jung-yoon stepped in close, their eyes locking as he tilted his gaze downward.
Those pitch-black eyes stared at him, unblinking. Just meeting that heavy gaze was enough to make it hard to breathe. Then Jung-yoon leaned in, angling his face beside Hoon’s, and whispered in a low, secretive voice.
“Hoon-ah, I think you forgot. I don’t care whether it’s a guy or a girl.”
A shiver ran from the rim of his ear down to his nape, every fine hair standing on end.
That’s when Go Hoon realized—he might’ve just stepped on a landmine.
He really had forgotten. Forgotten who Bae Jung-yoon was. Unpredictable. Unfathomable. Someone whose thoughts could veer off in any direction without warning. The kind of person you were better off never provoking.
Drunk or not, it didn’t matter. He’d crossed a line with someone he should’ve stayed far away from. Picked the wrong target—so wrong. The alcohol that had surged to his head quickly drained away, leaving a cold hollowness in its place.
While he stood frozen, lips parted but silent, Jung-yoon’s slick, gleaming eyes lingered on his face with relentless intensity.
“You reek of booze.”
That low, gravelly voice struck his ear with unsettling precision. Go Hoon flinched and forced an awkward smile.
“Yeah. Exactly. I smell like alcohol—so why don’t you back off?”
Maybe this could be his way out. Jung-yoon wasn’t fond of the smell of alcohol on others.
But instead of recoiling, Jung-yoon leaned in even closer, his solid frame pressing forward.
Then, a sudden weight settled on Hoon’s thigh.
Go Hoon’s eyes widened as he stared at him.
“What are you—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too absurd.
Bae Jung-yoon was hard.
What the hell? From one little joke? His mind filled with questions, but he couldn’t ask them. If he blurted something out, Jung-yoon would just laugh, completely unfazed, and probably not even feel embarrassed.
That’s how he was—always calm when he should be flustered, always throwing you off balance instead.
So Go Hoon kept his mouth shut. But the soft smile on Jung-yoon’s face made it clear he already knew what question had died in Hoon’s throat.
“It’s just been a while since I’ve had sex. I’m a little touchy.”
His tone was calm, almost casual—like he was stating the weather.
“So yeah, even a little stimulation can make me hard. Just like you earlier.”
The hell?
Go Hoon was indignant. No—don’t lump me in with you like we’re the same. I’m not some unfiltered pervert like you.
Sure, he’d been aware of Jung-yoon’s hands before. He wouldn’t deny that. But he’d never popped a boner over something vague or random. Not unless Jung-yoon was actually grabbing and shaking him, he never reacted like that. Sure, maybe he felt a sense of danger, but his dick didn’t just react on its own.
And besides, he had his own reasons. As pathetic as it sounded, he was still a virgin—never even touched by anyone else. That’s why Jung-yoon’s contact had felt so damn intense.
…Though saying it like that, he was starting to sound just as bad. Am I really no different from him? No. No way. He refused to accept that.
It wasn’t like he had groped Jung-yoon or anything—he’d just blew on him, for god’s sake. So what exactly was this guy reacting to? He couldn’t even guess.
“Okay, I get it. But could you please move your junk off me?”
Go Hoon gritted his teeth and tried to stay composed as he made the request. But it didn’t work.
“No.”
The firm refusal was followed by Jung-yoon sliding his leg between Hoon’s thighs. No? Then what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Go Hoon frowned and stared him down. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried to push him away—but at the same time, Jung-yoon moved. He dipped his head and pressed his nose into the crook of Hoon’s neck.
Instinctively, Go Hoon clenched both fists tight. He could have punched him—like he’d done before—but his body refused to follow through. He didn’t know why. He just didn’t want to hit Bae Jung-yoon.
“…Hnn.”
As Jung-yoon breathed in deeply, the bridge of his nose grazed along Hoon’s skin, slow and deliberate. It was like he was searching for the scent beneath all the alcohol, trying to find the real him.
Go Hoon kept his head stiff, like his neck was in a brace, and finally managed to move his lips.
“…What are you doing? Get off.”
His voice came out low and rough, like someone desperately trying to keep control.
And as if that was a cue, Jung-yoon’s lips brushed against the side of his neck.
The heat and softness of that unfamiliar touch made his shoulders twitch.
He could feel the lips parting, the dampness of them as they gently closed over his skin. Go Hoon clenched his jaw.
It felt like something was crawling slowly along his skin—ticklish, intoxicating. His already tipsy body felt like it was starting to melt.
Fighting to hold on to what little reason he had left, he tried weakly to wriggle away. But Jung-yoon ignored him and let his hand slip downward.
Through the fabric of his pants, that hand pressed against him, surrounding and squeezing his center. A ragged breath slipped out through Go Hoon’s parted lips.
Go Hoon gripped Bae Jung-yoon’s forearm tightly. It was an instinctive reaction, but Jung-yoon seemed to take it as resistance—because the pressure on his groin only intensified. He’s not seriously trying to crush it, is he? Still, Hoon’s fingertips began to tremble.
Jung-yoon, who’d been licking at his neck like something sweet had been smeared there, suddenly bit down—hard. The kind of bite meant to kill, like he was taking down prey.
“Ugh…!”
Go Hoon gasped and shoved him hard in the chest. Jung-yoon’s hand finally let go of his crotch, but that was all. Even with all his strength behind the push, he barely managed to gain any space.
Wincing, he pressed his palm to the sore spot on his neck. Then, out of nowhere, Jung-yoon asked,
“When you saw me having sex with a guy, what did you think?”
“…What?”
Go Hoon blinked, stunned by the absurd question. Jung-yoon, on the other hand, only leaned in closer, his eyes full of interest.
“Did you think I was disgusting?”
At that, a memory he’d buried came rushing back. The night Choi Joo-won had shown up at the house played in his mind like a movie. The image of the two of them kissing—deep and shameless—looped through his head.
Technically, Go Hoon hadn’t seen them having sex. Just everything leading up to it. And it’s not like he wanted to watch. They’d been all over each other right in front of him—he’d been forced to see it.
But even setting that aside—why the hell is he asking this? You’d think he’d be embarrassed that someone caught him in the act, but no—he was asking about it with complete confidence, like it was a casual conversation.
Go Hoon answered with a sharp, irritated voice.
“Why the hell would you ask something like that?”
“Because I’m curious.”
Smirking, Jung-yoon cupped Go Hoon’s cheek with one hand.
“Hoon-ah, I’m curious about every little thing you do.”
Staring at that infuriating grin, Go Hoon let out a deep sigh and shoved him hard in the chest again. This time, Jung-yoon backed off easily.
“So for you, love and sex are just… easy, huh?”
Go Hoon stepped away from the wall and wiped the saliva off his neck with his hand.
“What’s supposed to be hard about it? Love happens when your feelings line up. Sex happens when the timing’s right.”
Shrugging casually, Jung-yoon watched him closely as Go Hoon adjusted his clothes with a grimace.
“You’re so fucking shallow.”
His gaze dropped—right back to the problem between Jung-yoon’s legs. Even after everything, he was still hard. When the hell is that thing going down? Go Hoon stared at it in disbelief, then quickly looked away.
“…While we’re at it.”
He tossed the line out, casual but pointed.
“Choi Joo-won.”
The moment the name left his lips, Jung-yoon’s expression shifted. The smile was still there, but his eyes turned cold. Go Hoon caught the change but pretended not to, continuing on as if nothing had happened.
“What happened to him?”
“Hoon-ah, why do you care what happened to Choi Joo-won?”
Instead of answering, Jung-yoon responded with a question of his own. Go Hoon hesitated for a beat, then licked his dry lips.
“I saw him last in a pretty bad state. Any decent person would be curious.”
The memory came back—Choi Joo-won, unconscious, bloodied, collapsed on the floor.
“Don’t worry. He’s alive.”
After a brief pause, Jung-yoon replied with a smooth, friendly smile. But even hearing that didn’t put Go Hoon at ease. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, prompting Jung-yoon to explain further.
“I just want to clear up any misunderstanding—Hoon-ah, I don’t kill people.”
Go Hoon had no idea how he was supposed to respond. Oh, cool, you don’t kill people. What a relief? Was that what he was expected to say?
As Go Hoon stood there with a strange look on his face, Jung-yoon glanced down, then chuckled softly to himself.
“Anyway, that’s not what matters right now. We should finish what we started. I’m seriously aching down there.”
Finish what? When the hell did we start anything? Alarmed, Go Hoon immediately tensed and began inching away. Don’t tell me he’s about to ask for another handjob…
“You don’t have to do anything. Just stay still. I’ll handle the rest.”
Before the thought even fully formed, Jung-yoon dropped that suggestive line.
Go Hoon shook his head slowly, backing away from him. But Jung-yoon followed at a relaxed pace, clearly entertained by the whole thing.
“Hey. Just remember—I used to raise you when you were Kkongddeok.”
“…And that means what exactly? I’m in a human body now. And it’s not like this isn’t messed up.”
Does this guy have zero shame?
“It’s not just about me. It’s mutual, right? You didn’t hate it last time, did you, Hoon-ah?”
Yep. No shame at all. Confirming that for himself, Go Hoon took another step back—but again, the limited space of the house brought him to a halt.
With nowhere left to retreat, he made a last-ditch appeal.
“Why don’t you go screw someone who actually wants you? Not me.”
“You’re the only one in my house right now.”
“So what, you just grab whoever’s around when you’re horny?”
“No. But since you’re here, it seemed like the right time.”
Not everything that comes out of a person’s mouth qualifies as speech. Spouting that nonsense, Jung-yoon walked up leisurely, placed both hands on the wall, and looked down at him.
“If you really hate it, then don’t hold back. Do what you did before—hit me. I’ll stop.”
Does this guy only understand things when you hit him? Go Hoon seriously started to wonder.
Jung-yoon reached out and gently cupped his chin. And Go Hoon—tired, overwhelmed, fed up—shut his eyes tight.
And in that instant, he transformed into a small cat.
Thud. His clothes dropped to the floor.
Jung-yoon looked down, scanning the space where Go Hoon had vanished—and then spotted a white tuft of fur poking out of the pile of clothes.
“Mrrow…”
The little furball looked up at him, eyes full of cautious suspicion. Jung-yoon exhaled softly—and let out a quiet laugh.
