In a way, it was a bombshell—but Bae Jung-yoon didn’t flinch. He met Go Hoon’s gaze steadily, without a trace of surprise. Whatever he might’ve been thinking inside, his face gave away nothing. He just looked at him with that unreadable expression of his.
“Expose who I am online, send it to someone I know—do whatever you want.”
If his face got out, he’d just disappear into the mountains and live off the grid or something.
The thought of not getting his Hankuk University diploma stung—a lot, actually—but beyond that, there wasn’t much tying him to this world. Retreating to a remote temple to practice the philosophy of non-possession didn’t seem like the worst idea.
Sure, things around him would get chaotic for a while, but if he kept his head down, the noise would die down soon enough—like it always does. People had short attention spans, after all. That much, he could count on.
Honestly, there were plenty of things to worry about. But staying next to Bae Jung-yoon wasn’t exactly an appealing option either—because that path looked equally brutal.
After collecting his thoughts in the span of a breath, Go Hoon spoke again, his voice firmer than before.
“You said you could keep me by your side without doing things like this. Then go ahead—prove it.”
“Why?”
The question came back immediately. Bae Jung-yoon’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He looked at him as if the situation made no sense.
“You seriously think what we’re doing right now is normal?”
Truthfully, nothing about their relationship had ever been normal. Not from the very first meeting. And Bae Jung-yoon had to know that, too.
“The more I think about it, the more I realize this just isn’t right. I can’t keep bending over backwards to meet your expectations.”
Even what Bae Jung-yoon wanted from him was strange. The kinds of things you’d expect a lover to ask for. Yet he acted like he wasn’t aware of that. Or maybe he was—just pretending not to be.
Go Hoon didn’t want to keep this vague, undefined relationship going. He couldn’t tell what Jung-yoon really wanted from him. And with their views so misaligned, continuing things felt impossible.
He didn’t understand Bae Jung-yoon, and clearly, Bae Jung-yoon didn’t understand him either. The other man raised one corner of his mouth in a crooked smile.
“We had a deal, didn’t we, Hoon? A win-win contract. You get easy money from me, I get what I need from you. So what’s the problem now?”
“My feelings.”
Go Hoon said it flatly, with finality. Jung-yoon looked at him with a questioning stare, clearly waiting for clarification. Under that gaze, Go Hoon took a moment to steady himself.
“If we keep living together like this, I think I’m going to fall for you.”
His voice, thankfully, came out calm.
“More than just a friend. And that’s the problem.”
He wasn’t even sure if they were friends, but the word felt like the most fitting label for what they had.
This was a confession—but there was no flutter of nerves, no sense of excitement. Nothing like a drama. It wasn’t romantic, or heart-pounding. If anything, it felt painfully dry.
He’d never imagined himself confessing like this. But when you don’t expect anything from the other person, you end up spitting out something so dull, so unpolished.
It must have been just as sudden for Bae Jung-yoon. For once, he was silent. As if the words had genuinely caught him off guard.
He stared back with a vague expression—somewhere between a smile and a scowl. Go Hoon scratched his cheek, frowning.
“I know it sounds like it came out of nowhere, but that’s how I really feel. When I saw you with Choi Joo-won, I got irritated—just like that.”
And since he was already laying it all out, Go Hoon decided to be fully honest. He’d already exposed his heart—what difference did it make to admit the rest?
“That’s when I realized… I don’t see you as just a friend.”
“……”
“I even wondered if I was curious about dating someone of the same sex. So I went to a gay bar. The guy you saw earlier today—I met him there.”
Just moments ago, it had felt like a secret he’d never be able to share. But once it was out, it felt like nothing. Letting it all out—without hiding anything—left him feeling oddly relieved.
“But that’s all it was. We had a drink and a meal. That’s it. So I really don’t get why I have to be interrogated like this. You’re not even my boyfriend.”
Bae Jung-yoon’s gaze stayed steady, unwavering. And Go Hoon held it without flinching.
“So yeah, I can’t live with you anymore. I’m done. You told me—nothing should interfere with what we have. Well, this definitely does.”
Stay close to someone, and it’s only natural to start wanting more. That’s just how people are. Never satisfied—always hungry for more. And when that happens, emotions tip out of balance. A relationship without balance is bound to collapse. That’s just how it goes.
“Let’s stop now. You should really think about it. I’m not the only option. Honestly, I think your insomnia could be treated with another cat just fine.”
He finished speaking more calmly than he expected. All things considered, he thought he’d handled it okay. It wasn’t too emotional. It wasn’t pathetic.
He’d said everything he needed to say. But Bae Jung-yoon still said nothing. Not a single word. It would’ve been nice if he said something—something to clear the air.
What if he brought up the penalty clause? The thought suddenly hit him.
And here he was, in this moment, still worried about money. He cursed his own brain for always going there, but rationalized it anyway. His life had always revolved around scraping by—wasn’t it only natural?
If he’d known the contract would be tossed aside this easily, he never would’ve bothered drawing one up in the first place. He’d overthought everything, trying to avoid taking a loss—and now, it felt like he was the one backed into a corner.
Whatever. He’d deal with the fallout later. First things first: he needed to get out of this house safely.
What he’d just done was practically a provocation. He hadn’t forgotten what Bae Jung-yoon had told him before—that he didn’t need to resort to persuasion to keep Go Hoon by his side. And when he’d said that, his gaze had unmistakably landed on Hoon’s legs.
Go Hoon watched him carefully, studying every reaction. But Jung-yoon was quieter than expected.
Slowly, Hoon shifted. He pulled at the arm that had been held, tugging with force. Surprisingly, the grip released with ease. No resistance. It almost felt like Jung-yoon had let go on his own, lost in his thoughts.
As blood rushed back into his hand, tingling heat spread across the skin where the grip had been tight enough to cut off circulation. A strange wave of emotion followed—relief, mixed with disappointment. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he’d hoped Bae Jung-yoon would hold on tighter.
Go Hoon turned and headed into the bedroom. He was going to pack.
There wasn’t much to take. His laptop was the only essential. After that, he just needed to grab the duffel bag with his clothes from the wardrobe. He’d come into this officetel light, and he could leave just as simply.
Standing at the desk, he picked up his laptop. He was winding up the charging cable when heavy footsteps approached behind him—and a hand grabbed his arm again. His body was yanked around, and he found himself staring straight at Bae Jung-yoon.
“I don’t understand.”
That cold, unreadable face curved into a bitter smile.
“If I’m the one you like, shouldn’t you want to stay with me even more?”
Then came his voice, lower than before.
“Why are you trying so hard to push me away?”
Go Hoon frowned. Hadn’t he already explained everything?
He wasn’t trying to push Jung-yoon away. He was trying to suppress his own feelings—because he was convinced that Jung-yoon could never feel the same. And hadn’t he just said it? That he didn’t want their contract getting complicated?
A thousand thoughts collided in his mind, but it felt like something had lodged in his throat, blocking the words.
Even if he tried to explain, would Jung-yoon understand? As he stood there, hesitating, eyes locked with the other man’s, the grip on his arm tightened.
It hurt. The pain made him twist and try to break free—but Jung-yoon didn’t let go.
“Hoon.”
“Let go.”
“Wanna have sex?”
Go Hoon froze.
And this—this was exactly why he couldn’t stay.
Bae Jung-yoon treated emotions like they were nothing. Every time he said things like this so lightly, Go Hoon knew it would only hurt more.
Sure, he could brush it off. Laugh it away and say no. But could he keep doing that forever? Could he keep turning down someone who offered himself so easily?
He didn’t know. Fuck, part of him already felt like it was caving. His heart was already out of rhythm.
Just a few days ago, Woo Gun-hyung had made the same proposition. But somehow, the same offer from two different people hit him completely differently.
When it was Woo Gun-hyung, it hadn’t fazed him. But now? His heart had plummeted, and his mind had gone blank. That had to be the difference that emotions made.
Go Hoon clenched his jaw. His fists curled tight at his sides.
Could he really sleep with someone he didn’t have feelings for? Maybe Bae Jung-yoon could. For him, sex was just sex—nothing more, nothing less.
“I’m not doing it. Fuck off.”
The words burst out before he could stop them.
How many people had Bae Jung-yoon kissed this easily, touched, slept with—shared pieces of himself like they meant nothing? The thought stabbed through him like ice.
He had just made up his mind to walk away—and then came the response he never expected.
“I want to.”
Jung-yoon’s voice was unwavering.
“You told me to do whatever I wanted, didn’t you, Hoon?”
His eyes gleamed—sharp and focused. He reached out and cupped the back of Hoon’s neck.
Go Hoon instinctively stepped back, but Jung-yoon moved in even closer.
The hand at his nape tightened, pulling him forward. Their faces closed in—close enough for their lips to brush. Those jet-black eyes bore down on him, intense and unblinking.
“Sleep with me. I want you.”
