As soon as Eun-jo stepped into the dorm, the soft glow of the living room lights welcomed him.
Had he forgotten to turn them off before he left?
He tilted his head in mild confusion and walked in—only to freeze on the spot.
“……”
That unmistakable figure in the kitchen. A massive frame that could block out a doorway, broad shoulders, a thick, muscular silhouette. There was only one man in the entire Center with a body like that.
Sensing his presence, Jin Mu-seong turned his head toward him.
“You’re late.”
He wasn’t in his usual suit today. Instead, he wore a black short-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of loose training pants. But what really threw Eun-jo off was the apron tied around his waist—folded neatly and secured in front.
He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a magazine. Honestly, even if he were wearing a luxury watch and dress shoes on top of that, it’d still suit him.
If his face were even slightly less perfect, maybe the world would feel a bit fairer.
That thought crossed Eun-jo’s mind as his gaze naturally dropped to the apron. Through the fabric, the solid outline of Jin Mu-seong’s thighs was clearly visible.
When Eun-jo’s eyes lingered a little too long, the man let out a soft chuckle.
“It’s our honeymoon, isn’t it?”
“……”
“If I don’t want you lifting a finger, then obviously I’ve got to stay busy.”
Only then did Eun-jo realize how blatantly he’d been staring. Embarrassed, he looked away and muttered under his breath,
“Who said anything about a honeymoon?”
“Who else would it be?”
A bright, effortless smile tugged at Jin Mu-seong’s lips.
“You and me, obviously.”
Crazy bastard. Eun-jo had always known the guy was nuts, but this level of shamelessness was still impressive.
Turning to face him directly, Eun-jo narrowed his eyes.
“You sure you’re not just a home intruder?”
“Now that’s just rude.”
“Wait, do you even know what it means to feel offended?”
Jin Mu-seong acted like he hadn’t heard a thing, casually pulling out a chair for him. His movements were so natural, it was like he really did live here.
“If you’re gonna complain, at least sit down and do it properly. I’ll listen.”
He tapped the seat a couple times, beckoning him over.
Eun-jo suddenly felt like he was the one who’d lost. Like some new bride picking a fight for no reason. Maybe it was the warmth filling the apartment, or maybe it was the man moving around like he belonged. Either way, something about it threw him off.
When he headed toward the kitchen, his eyes widened.
The dining table was packed. Creamy pasta, a salad stacked with steak, baguette slices topped with garlic spread—each dish tailored perfectly to his taste for Western food.
Eun-jo couldn’t help but swallow.
Jin Mu-seong caught the sound and chuckled.
“Sit.”
With a huff, Eun-jo took the chair, shooting him a glare the whole time. As Mu-seong carried over the rest of the food, he paused when he saw Eun-jo gripping his chopsticks like they were weapons.
A dry laugh escaped him.
“Good. At least you didn’t get jumped on the way back.”
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Hm?”
His voice was calm, like he genuinely had no clue what Eun-jo was talking about.
“Do you mean, besides you?”
“Not that.”
“……”
“You didn’t hand me over to Park Se-yul at the hotel without a reason. And you didn’t come all the way out here to the middle of nowhere on a whim either. This is a regional center, not your usual playground.”
Even the logistics had to be a nightmare. As Team B’s leader, getting authorization couldn’t have been easy—especially with Team A out of commission.
“There’s definitely something. What is it?”
Jin Mu-seong didn’t answer right away. He scooped the freshly cooked gambas into a bowl and brought it to the table. After sitting across from Eun-jo, he picked up a slice of baguette.
“Nothing.”
He dipped the bread in the sizzling shrimp oil, then held it out in front of Eun-jo.
Despite the wary look in his eyes, Eun-jo opened his mouth. It was automatic—and kind of cute.
Jin Mu-seong slipped the bread in and smiled like he’d won something.
“I just realized where I stand.”
“……”
“I thought I had time, but turns out, I didn’t.”
“A promotion?”
Eun-jo paused mid-chew, eyes narrowing.
“You aiming for Center Director or something?”
“Not that seat.”
After the baguette came salad, then a cut of steak—served to him one by one, in just the right order to keep things from getting too heavy.
“I meant by your side.”
That quiet line froze Eun-jo in place.
Still chewing, he stared at Jin Mu-seong with puffed cheeks. The man reached out and gently kneaded one of them.
“Well, what else can I do? Guess I’ll start by serving you and work my way up to being spoiled.”
He even wiped the corner of Eun-jo’s lips with the back of his hand, flashing a satisfied grin.
Thud.
Eun-jo’s heart dropped so hard, he worried it was audible. He turned his head fast, trying to cool the sudden heat rising in his face.
Even the most stubborn tree falls if you keep chopping…
He felt like he’d become that tree.
He’s always been flirty like this…
So why did it sound different now?
Nothing had changed—except the setting. And maybe the apron. Eun-jo snuck a glance at it, still wrapped snug around Jin Mu-seong’s thighs.
Wait… don’t tell me I’m into aprons? Seriously? Aprons?
Questioning his own taste, Eun-jo let out a slow breath. He didn’t even realize he was awkwardly nodding to himself, staring at the floor, or that Jin Mu-seong was watching him with eyes full of amusement.
Determined to pull himself together, Eun-jo took a moment to cool down before sneaking another glance at him out of the corner of his eye.
“…Just give me the steak.”
The moment the soft murmur left Eun-jo’s lips, a piece of steak was already slipped into his mouth. Almost like Jin Mu-seong had read his mind—he’d had it prepped on the fork all along.
He was such a strange man. He didn’t beg to stay by Eun-jo’s side. Instead, he just kept finding new, absurdly effective ways to seduce him. Maybe that’s what was throwing Eun-jo off the most—how easily he kept being pulled in.
And as if he could read even that, Jin Mu-seong’s eyes curved playfully.
“If you ate well, you should reward me. Show me some love, baby.”
“Steak… you’re really beautiful.”
“Pfft—!”
Jin Mu-seong burst out laughing as Eun-jo delivered the line with mechanical sarcasm. Eun-jo just kept chewing, calm and precise—both the steak and the one feeding it were equally adorable.
If his heart was pounding this hard, it had to be the steak’s fault.
Yeah… it was just that the steak was really good.
***
Even after dinner, Jin Mu-seong didn’t stop fussing over him.
Whatever got into him, he was moving like a man who’d sworn to become Eun-jo’s full-time servant.
When Eun-jo tried to clear the table and insisted on doing the dishes, Mu-seong flatly refused and cleared everything away with his ability. Then he squared his shoulders, tightened the apron like he meant business, and went to the sink.
He’s not gonna break a plate, is he?
With that massive frame filling the kitchen, the space looked even smaller. Eun-jo stayed rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away. The sight of Jin Mu-seong doing dishes was just too surreal.
But, surprisingly, he was… good at it? He used just the right amount of dish soap and even saved the greasy pans for last. He actually knew what he was doing.
No way… this isn’t right.
Eun-jo blinked in disbelief. Jin Mu-seong was the kind of man who probably didn’t even fold his own socks. You didn’t just get that kind of time or ease unless you were living on a different level.
“Wait a minute…”
Eun-jo tiptoed closer and peeked over his shoulder.
“You’re not… someone else, right? Like, you didn’t shapeshift or something…?”
He tilted his head like a suspicious little hamster, and that was the best he could come up with. At the innocent question, Jin Mu-seong chuckled under his breath.
“What, me doing dishes freaks you out?”
“It’s just… not like you. You don’t exactly give off domestic chores energy. You seem like the kind of guy who’s never folded laundry in his life.”
Mu-seong let out a thoughtful hum. Technically, chores like dishes or laundry were easy with his ability—and besides, the Center had staff for that kind of thing. Of course, it wasn’t like Eun-jo needed to know that.
He hesitated for a moment. And that brief pause only made Eun-jo more suspicious. He stepped in even closer.
“Be honest.”
He stared him down, scanning his face for inconsistencies.
“You’re not actually Jin Mu-seong, are you?”
“Oh? Then who do you think I am?”
That question shattered whatever composure Eun-jo had left. A whole lineup of faces flashed through his mind—people who might actually have the power or audacity to impersonate Jin Mu-seong. Guys who always stuffed his drawer full of candy and chocolate.
Just then, Mu-seong peeled off his gloves and turned to face him.
Then his arms wrapped around Eun-jo’s waist in one smooth motion.
“Hmm?”
His eyes curved with a sly smile, and Eun-jo clamped his mouth shut. Even with all the people he’d been tangled up with, he couldn’t bring himself to say another name out loud.
“Clause One. Don’t dig into past relationships.”
“……”
“Don’t ask.”
In the end, Eun-jo defaulted to the rule they’d all agreed on. He scurried out of the kitchen in retreat, only to be caught again—Mu-seong’s arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
“Ah!”
His feet lifted off the ground, and his view rose with them. There was only one man who could lift someone nearly 180 cm like he weighed nothing: Jin Mu-seong.
“So that’s your answer, huh?”
Mu-seong murmured low, arms tightening.
“Then I’ll prove I’m really Jin Mu-seong.”
“W-What are you—”
“Our baby likes being kissed along the neck first…”
His voice dropped to a husky whisper.
“And when I slowly move down, teasing your chest just right… the part all curled up inside—”
“Stop!”
“The color starts out a soft pink, but once you start sucking on it, it ripens into this deep plum—”
“Jin Mu-seong!”
Eun-jo couldn’t take it anymore and slapped both hands over the man’s mouth.
“Have you lost your mind!?”
Under his palms, Jin Mu-seong’s laughter rumbled like a purr. He looked down at Eun-jo with affectionate eyes and whispered,
“Told you—we’re newlyweds.”
“Seriously…”
Heat rushed up Eun-jo’s neck, flushing his face a deep red. Words got stuck in his throat, sputtering half-formed before he turned on his heel and fled to the living room.
This time, Jin Mu-seong let him go.
After being pampered with a bath and even a foot massage, Eun-jo’s body felt boneless with relaxation. The tension that had been coiled tight inside him had long since unraveled.
No clinging, no pestering—Jin Mu-seong moved around him with the ease of something as familiar and constant as a tongue in your mouth. And after even feeding him snacks, Eun-jo’s mood was flying high.
Caught up in the moment, he asked for alcohol.
Naturally, Jin Mu-seong obliged without a single word of protest.
In the blink of an eye, beer, sparkling wine, champagne, and soju were all neatly lined up in front of him—as if Mu-seong had paused time, gone on a booze run, and returned before anyone noticed.
Using such a rare ability just to fetch drinks was absurdly extravagant… but whatever. Eun-jo didn’t care.
He dashed into the kitchen and grabbed wine glasses with childlike excitement.
With salad, baguette, and wine, a cozy little drinking spread came together.
As Eun-jo sat down, eyes already shining, Jin Mu-seong took the seat across from him.
“How much can you drink?”
“No idea. I’ve never been drunk.”
Pouring a thin stream of white wine into the glass, Eun-jo answered plainly. Jin Mu-seong chuckled under his breath.
“You’re being honest ‘cause you don’t care about winning, huh?”
“I mean it.”
No sooner had he set the bottle down than he picked up the glass and took a sip. The sharp sweetness bloomed on his tongue, and a grin tugged at his lips without warning.
“Khh…”
A groan slipped out like an old man savoring his first drink in days. Jin Mu-seong reached out and popped a slice of baguette into his mouth in response.
Ah… what did you call this again?
Feasting in luxury’
A handsome man, delicious food, flowing wine—it really was the full spread of indulgence.
Before he died, Eun-jo had always enjoyed a good drink. He never went out drinking—he cared too much about his image—but he often drank alone at home.
He’d even converted one wall of his apartment into a proper liquor display.
He could hold his liquor. He knew how to drink. And it had been a while, so he let himself enjoy it. Glass after glass, he swallowed it down without hesitation.
But there was one crucial thing he forgot—
This wasn’t his original body anymore.
“…Ugh.”
He hadn’t even made it through half a bottle before the world started to blur.
And that was when it began: The tragic birth of his drunken black-out era.
