Chapter 3: “Honeybees Are Actually Hornets”
The hotel was grand. The interior was comfortable, the ceiling and floor gleaming. Seonwook suppressed the urge to skateboard across the spacious, smooth lobby and instead tucked his board under his arm as he approached the front desk.
“Welcome.”
“I’m here on an errand for Director Hwang.”
Seonwook held up the envelope in his hand, and the staff member immediately picked up the phone.
“Please wait a moment.”
As the employee turned slightly away and murmured into the receiver, Seonwook idly surveyed his surroundings. Everything was the polar opposite of Deokman’s Inn.
“I’ll show you the way.”
The staff member led Seonwook to the elevator. When they stepped inside and the employee pressed the button for the 27th floor, Seonwook’s eyes widened slightly.
Is he in a room? Not meeting in a café or something inside the hotel?
Showing his true colors again, huh? Guess he really is into my nipples.
Seonwook bit back a laugh, his whole body tingling with anticipation as the elevator ascended.
They reached the 27th floor, and the staff member walked down the long hallway lined with rooms on either side.
How far are we going? This is pretty far.
I could just skateboard down here. Wonder what he’d say if I did?
Seonwook tightened his grip on his skateboard.
The staff member stopped in front of Room 2730, pressed the bell, waited a moment, then swiped a card under the handle and carefully opened the door.
“You may go in.”
After handing the door to Seonwook, the staff member bowed slightly and left the way they came.
Seonwook stood holding the door ajar, watching the retreating figure before pushing it open further. Across the room, Director Hwang sat at a desk, his back to the door, staring at his laptop.
“Oh! Director Hwang, hello!”
Seonwook waved cheerfully.
“Quiet. Come in.”
Director Hwang didn’t even glance up from his laptop.
“Miss me?”
Seonwook exaggerated a whisper as he stepped inside. There were closed doors on either side, and a short hallway led to what appeared to be a living area.
Seonwook looked around as he walked down the hallway into the living space. The windows stretched in an L-shape from behind Director Hwang’s desk to the right side of the room, offering a sweeping view of Namsan Tower, lush mountains, and the vast sky.
“Wow, this place is fucking amazing.”
“The envelope.”
Seonwook placed the envelope on the desk and continued to wander, taking everything in. The large desk dominating the living area made the space feel more like an office than a hotel room.
He propped his skateboard against the long sofa by the window, shrugged off his hoodie, and plopped down.
“How much does a room like this cost?”
Director Hwang only glanced at the stack of papers he’d pulled from the envelope. His hair was neatly combed, his expression as unreadable as ever, but today he wore no suit jacket or tie—just a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“Do you work here? Are you a hotel manager? What’s that over there? Oh, is that the bedroom?”
Seonwook pointed at the sliding door across from him. It was closed, so he couldn’t see inside.
Director Hwang finished organizing the envelope, tucked it into a drawer, then rested his elbows on the desk and fixed Seonwook with a steady gaze.
Seonwook met his eyes.
“Did you look inside the envelope?”
“No.”
“Why not? Weren’t you curious?”
Seonwook didn’t need to look to know it was related to the cleanup of the body in Room 203—and that wasn’t what interested him.
“I’m curious about other things.”
Seonwook flashed a sly smile.
Director Hwang held his gaze for a moment before looking back down at the papers on his desk.
“Why did you suddenly leave your hometown, where you’d lived your whole life?”
“…Me?”
“Yes.”
Director Hwang didn’t look up from the papers.
“Did you run a background check on me?”
“You don’t have family, relatives, acquaintances, or a job here. Yet you suddenly moved here last December. Why?”
Director Hwang finally lifted his eyes.
“Why?”
“Didn’t your investigation answer that?”
“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”
“I came because there was nothing fun where I was. I was at that age, you know? My hometown was fucking boring.”
“…”
“I wanted to have some fun before I got too old.”
Director Hwang looked back down at the papers, resting his chin on his hand.
“Is working at that inn fun?”
“You shouldn’t talk down on other people’s jobs.”
“For someone who came looking for fun, you’re living pretty miserably, aren’t you?”
“Now you’re criticizing my life?”
Director Hwang pushed the top paper aside and skimmed the next one.
Seonwook briefly imagined what might be written on those pages about him.
“Director.”
“…”
“You wanted to meet me alone, didn’t you? That’s why you had me come here.”
Director Hwang looked up.
“Yesterday at the inn, I gave you the wrong envelope on purpose, but you took it anyway. The two envelopes looked completely different. You knew that, but you took it anyway—because you knew I’d come here. So we could meet again, just the two of us, with no interruptions.”
Director Hwang studied Seonwook for a moment before slowly standing up.
Seonwook couldn’t help but admire the fact that he was barefoot.
The thin, taut skin of his insteps, the surprisingly fragile toes that could snap with the slightest impact—yet they bore the full weight of a person, an organ both delicate and impossibly strong.
He’d entered Seonwook’s room wearing shoes, but here, in his own space, he revealed that strange, vulnerable strength without a second thought.
It was like seeing the unarmored body of a warrior who had never shown his bare skin to anyone.
Seonwook watched Director Hwang’s feet move soundlessly across the carpet and licked his lips. They were the cleanest, most beautiful bare feet he’d ever seen.
Director Hwang stopped in front of him, and the cold, dark, almost electric scent of him filled Seonwook’s nose.
“You never answer obediently, do you?”
“Obedient… isn’t that a word for tombs?”
“Do you always have to provoke me in every conversation?”
“Don’t you always avoid answering my questions?”
“Should I answer questions that aren’t even questions?”
“Then I’ll ask a proper question.”
Seonwook looked down at Director Hwang’s feet.
“Your toes.”
“…”
“Can I suck on them?”
Director Hwang glanced down at his own feet. Seonwook slowly lifted his gaze, raking his eyes over Director Hwang’s body.
“I want to see you naked, too.”
Director Hwang met his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because I’m sure now.”
“Sure of what?”
“That you want the same things I do.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“The first time we met, you were practically drooling over my body. But when I ask, you always dodge. Then I realized—it’s all an act.”
Director Hwang’s brow furrowed.
“It’s like this: ‘I want what you want. More than that, even. But admitting it out loud bruises my ego, so just keep pushing until I give in.’”
“…”
“So? How’s my logic?”
“Do you even know what the word ‘logic’ means?”
“Well, if I’m wrong, correct me.”
“Your very existence is a mistake.”
“Why do you keep pretending you’re not into it?”
Seonwook spread his legs wider.
“Just be honest—”
Director Hwang lifted one foot and pressed it against the front of Seonwook’s pants.
Seonwook instinctively flinched but forced himself to lean back against the sofa.
“Oh, you can do it with your foot, too. I’m fine with that.”
“…”
Their eyes locked, neither willing to look away.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
