Technically speaking, it wasn’t wrong. People often called cats the masters and referred to those who raised them as their butlers. In that sense, it was true—he did live to serve him.
Go Hoon felt no shame. Everything he said was grounded in fact. But Choi Joo-won, who had no idea what was actually going on, looked increasingly bewildered.
“…What the hell are you talking about?”
What he really meant was obvious: What kind of bullshit is that?
“There are lives so profound that a mere creature like us can’t begin to understand them.”
Go Hoon replied casually, unfazed by the other’s dumbfounded stare. He repeated what Jiji had told him word for word, and that only made Choi Joo-won’s face stiffen even more. From the look in his eyes, he clearly thought Go Hoon had gone completely insane.
But Go Hoon didn’t care about that look. He pushed in his chair and turned to leave. Then, as if something suddenly came to mind, he stopped and added:
“Oh, and one more thing. Don’t ever go to Bae Jung-yoon’s place again. Next time, I won’t let it slide.”
With that cold warning, he turned his back without hesitation.
“Hey, wait. I’m not done talki—”
Choi Joo-won jumped to his feet and reached out to grab him.
But Go Hoon was quicker. He caught the hand reaching for him mid-air. Then, tightening his grip, he locked eyes with him.
“Ah! Ow, ow—my arm, it hurts…!”
As the other whined in exaggerated pain, Go Hoon stared him down and muttered darkly.
“Should’ve decked you a long time ago.”
Choi Joo-won flinched and looked up at him.
Go Hoon would’ve liked nothing more than to twist that arm right then and there—but if there was one thing he’d learned from Kim Jong-seong, it was this: the more you learn to control your body, the less you should throw punches without restraint.
So he held back and gave one last warning.
“If I catch you hanging around the officetel again and we cross paths… you’re getting hit. For real.”
He let go of Choi Joo-won’s hand like he was tossing away garbage. Without another glance at the guy groaning and rubbing his arm, Go Hoon turned and walked off.
If the idiot had tried to grab him again and keep pestering him, he was ready to deal with it more harshly—but, disappointingly, no footsteps followed.
Go Hoon left the café feeling lighter, like a weight had lifted from his shoulders.
***
“Go Hoon, hey.”
With a cigarette in his mouth, Go Hoon turned his head. Jo Seong-il was walking into the smoking area. He gave a slight nod, and Jo Seong-il lit his cigarette before pulling out his phone and grinning like a fool.
Go Hoon watched silently, then narrowed his eyes.
“You look happy.”
“Of course I’m happy. I’m texting Eun-hye.”
Jo Seong-il answered without hesitation.
He’d started dating a younger girl he met at a group date before summer break, and apparently, they were still going strong. The way he flaunted his relationship left no room for subtlety—so much so it was almost obnoxious.
But… well. That’s how relationships are supposed to be, right? Overflowing with affection. Showing off your happiness without caring what others think. In that sense, Go Hoon was certain—whatever it was between him and Bae Jung-yoon, it wasn’t dating.
He swallowed bitter smoke, and Jo Seong-il glanced at him.
“If you’re jealous, go get a girlfriend too.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Yeah, sure. From the look on your face, you’re dying from it. You should’ve listened when I told you to come to that group date.”
Go Hoon shot him a sharp look. A relationship? At a time like this? No way. It was too soon. He didn’t even know what was going to happen with the rest of his life.
After his run-in with Choi Joo-won a few days ago, he’d half-expected Bae Jung-yoon to ask him why he went to the café. But surprisingly, Jung-yoon hadn’t said a word. Whether he was unaware that Go Hoon had gone off-script, or knew but chose not to ask—Go Hoon couldn’t tell. And honestly, he didn’t feel like bringing up Choi Joo-won either.
He had no desire to tell Jung-yoon about their conversation. He didn’t even want to say the name “Choi Joo-won” out loud.
“Catch you later.”
“Yeah, see you, Go Hoon.”
Since Bae Jung-yoon’s class was about to end, Go Hoon parted ways with Jo Seong-il and ambled toward the outdoor parking lot. Walking along the flowerbed path, he spotted him in the distance.
But Bae Jung-yoon wasn’t alone.
He was talking to someone—Kang Soo-yeon. It was the first time Go Hoon had seen her since the semester started.
Without thinking, he stopped walking. A crease formed between his brows. He hesitated, wondering if he should wait there until their conversation was over. But soon enough, he changed his mind and strode straight toward them.
“Bae Jung-yoon.”
The moment he called out, Jung-yoon turned around. Kang Soo-yeon, who had been standing in front of him, turned as well. Unlike usual, she didn’t look pleased.
But Go Hoon didn’t have the time—or the patience—to study her expression.
“We’ve got something to do. I’m taking him with me. Sorry.”
He spoke fast, grabbed Jung-yoon by the arm, and began walking away.
Kang Soo-yeon called out, clearly taken aback.
“Uh? We’re not done talking yet…! Hey, Bae Jung-yoon! Go Hoon…!”
Kang Soo-yeon’s voice rang out from behind, tinged with frustration. But Go Hoon didn’t look back. Without slowing even once, he gripped Bae Jung-yoon’s arm and kept walking briskly.
He knew exactly what this was—petty jealousy. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to see Bae Jung-yoon standing next to Kang Soo-yeon, didn’t want to watch them talking like that.
The one saving grace was that Jung-yoon didn’t say anything. He simply followed in step, matching Go Hoon’s hurried pace. It wasn’t until they reached the outdoor parking lot that Go Hoon finally stopped and let go of his arm.
“Unlock it.”
His voice was curt, and with a soft click, the doors unlocked. Go Hoon climbed into the passenger seat, slung off his backpack, and fixed his eyes on his phone screen—a clear message not to speak to him.
Jung-yoon circled the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat. But even after a few minutes, the engine didn’t start. Sensing something was off, Go Hoon glanced up with narrowed eyes.
“What?”
He shot the question at Jung-yoon, who was staring directly at him. Instead of answering, Jung-yoon reached over and took his hand. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips gently against Go Hoon’s fingers.
Go Hoon froze in place.
As those soft lips lingered between his knuckles, heat crept up his neck and bloomed across his ears. It was disorienting—how warm and pleasant that contact felt.
He stared at Jung-yoon, who seemed oddly pleased. But then, all at once, Jung-yoon paused.
“…Did you smoke?”
The question cut through the silence like a blade. In the blink of an eye, that warmth evaporated.
Shit. He should’ve washed his hands.
“Let go, you bastard.”
Go Hoon yanked his hand back and crossed his arms tightly across his chest.
“I asked if you smoked.”
The question came again, firmer this time. Go Hoon turned away, staring blankly out the window as he blinked slowly. Jung-yoon’s voice dropped low.
“Go Hoon.”
“I had one. Just one.”
“Quit.”
“I said it was one. There’s nothing to quit.”
Truthfully, it was barely enough to even call him a smoker. Just the occasional cigarette when things got overwhelming. Most weeks, he didn’t even have one. It wasn’t like he had an addiction—so why the hell was he getting scolded?
“Go Hoon.”
This time, Jung-yoon’s tone softened further as he said his name. Their eyes met. All signs of a smile had vanished from those jet-black eyes.
“When I say quit, you quit.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.
And that’s when something in Go Hoon started to boil. He was already on edge, and that one line was enough to light the fuse.
“Why the hell should I listen to you?”
The words came out sharp, cold. And once he said them, the resentment surged even stronger. The way Jung-yoon tried to control every little thing—like he owned him—rubbed him raw. He wasn’t his parent. Wasn’t his master.
“You know I’m not saying this for me, right? I’m saying it because I’m worried about you, Go Hoon. I’m doing this for your health.”
Jung-yoon’s voice was filled with a mix of concern and hurt. Or at least that’s what he was trying to sound like. Pretending to care—when what he really wanted was for Go Hoon to do exactly as he wished.
Maybe that was it. Maybe Jung-yoon saw him as a possession. Something to monitor and manage. Maybe that’s why he kept meddling in everything.
With a complicated look, Go Hoon stared at him for a moment—then abruptly opened the door and stepped out of the car.
From his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. It was defiance, plain and simple.
He realized he’d been too obedient all this time. Just because he liked Jung-yoon didn’t mean he had to accept every demand like it was law.
He took a deep breath and lit the cigarette.
The flame had barely touched the tip when he heard the driver’s side door open. He knew Jung-yoon was coming.
But Go Hoon didn’t turn. He stood his ground, eyes fixed ahead, and exhaled a long stream of smoke.
Jung-yoon approached quickly, stopping right in front of him. Their eyes locked. Go Hoon, unmoving, kept the cigarette between his lips and took another slow drag. Then, deliberately, he exhaled the smoke right in Jung-yoon’s face.
Tension crackled in the silence between them.
And then, without warning—lips crashed into his.
Go Hoon’s eyes flew open. Instinctively, he tried to pull back, but the car was behind him—he had nowhere to run. A tongue forced its way into his mouth, frantic and unrestrained, filling it with heat and chaos.
The cigarette fell from his hand, hitting the ground.
He shoved at Jung-yoon with both hands, trying to push him away, but the other held firm. Struggling, panicking, Go Hoon bit down—hard—on the tongue invading his mouth.
“Ugh…”
With a low groan, Jung-yoon finally pulled back. The metallic taste of blood lingered on Go Hoon’s tongue.
