10) The Law of Inertia
Two naked bodies tangled together atop a large bed. Around them stretched an empty, hollow space where nothing else existed—but neither of them paid it any mind.
Only three things existed here: desire, instinct, and fulfillment.
Seok-ho wrapped his arms around the pale body and drove his hips roughly. The sensation of his cock being tightly clenched made the jet-black scorpion etched along his spine seem to writhe.
Veins stood out on his forehead. From between clenched teeth, ragged breaths burst out again and again. The other person—whose face he still couldn’t see—was panting just as breathlessly as he was.
“Haah… hn…”
The suppressed moan sounded familiar. Pressing down on the body sprawled beneath him like a dog, Seok-ho lowered his lips to the back of the other’s sweat-dampened neck.
He bit into the flawless white skin, leaving behind marks of his own. Biting and licking the same spot over and over again—it resembled the act of a beast marking its territory on something it owned.
He pressed his nose close against the hot skin and inhaled deeply. Along with the feverish warmth came the sweet, fresh scent of bare flesh.
And beneath it, faintly, he caught the trace of a delicate floral fragrance.
Seok-ho greedily chased it, tracing the skin with the bridge of his nose. The other person’s scent filling deep inside his lungs sharpened every one of his nerves. Without realizing it, his arms tightened around the waist he held.
The thirst he felt for the person in his arms swelled in an instant like a tidal wave.
Seok-ho’s thrusts grew harsher. Each time he drove his hips with savage force, loud wet slaps echoed through the space. Yet even as he relentlessly ravaged the body beneath him to satisfy his own desire, the hunger wouldn’t fade. Instead, his mouth felt drier and drier.
Grinding out a low, growling breath, Seok-ho grabbed the other’s arm and turned the body over.
Only then did the face reveal itself—and he recognized exactly who he was holding.
“…Ha. Kim Kang-woo.”
The moment he called the name, the body beneath him flinched and tightened around him in response.
Seok-ho spread Kang-woo’s thighs wider with both hands and leaned down. Hooking the long, nearly hairless legs over his shoulders, he stared relentlessly at the face beneath him.
“Hn… haah… hyung, Seok-ho hyuuung…”
The trembling voice slipped out between uneven breaths.
The neat, composed image Kang-woo usually carried was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was completely undone in a way Seok-ho had never seen before.
His reddened eyes and moisture-filled gaze were swallowed entirely by pleasure.
Watching that only made Seok-ho more parched. The ruined expression looked pitiful—and yet at the same time stirred something dark and base deep within him.
“Hyung… hngh, ah…!”
Kang-woo’s thin arms pulled him down by the neck. Seok-ho didn’t resist. As he allowed himself to be drawn closer, their bodies pressed together and heat surged between them.
Just before he spilled himself inside the depths of Kim Kang-woo—who seemed as though he had been born solely to receive him—
Seok-ho woke up.
“Haah… haah…”
His eyes snapped open as his upper body shot upright.
His mind returned to reality in an instant. His focus was so sharp it was hard to believe he had just woken from sleep.
After staring silently into the darkness for a long moment, Seok-ho finally relaxed his shoulders and let out a long sigh.
This was the worst.
Kim Kang-woo had appeared in his dream. What they’d done together felt so vivid it was almost as if it had truly happened. The sensation of the slender, heated body he had held still lingered in his palms, warming his skin.
And the ridiculous thing was—
He actually felt disappointed that the sensation was gradually fading.
Seok-ho sat on the edge of the bed and roughly dragged a hand down his face before brushing back the hair that had fallen over his forehead.
His underwear was damp. He knew exactly what that meant.
Dreams were the realization of desires that had been pressed down deep within the unconscious.
At his age—and having a wet dream about someone ten years younger than him. A wave of self-reproach crashed over him.
I’ve seriously lost my mind, Seok-ho thought.
It had been just last night that Kim Kang-woo had unexpectedly confessed to him.
For Seok-ho, it had been shocking in more ways than one.
First of all, he couldn’t believe he had completely forgotten that he had kissed the kid. How could he have forgotten something so completely? It was a memory that would have come back clearly with just a single mention.
And even if he had been drunk, it was still hard to believe that he had done something like that to him.
At that moment, he must have been bewitched by something.
“I know. Hyung… it was a mistake.”
Seeing Kim Kang-woo misunderstand his impulsive actions so deeply, Seok-ho hadn’t been able to say anything in response.
It was true that the person he had kissed was Kim Kang-woo. Even knowing full well who it was, his own greed had surged forward and tried to claim him.
But Kim Kang-woo was convinced the object of that desire couldn’t possibly have been himself.
Even after seeing the hurt expression on his face, Seok-ho couldn’t bring himself to explain anything.
There were no words he could say.
His chest felt stifled—but regardless, Seok-ho knew what he had to do.
The fact that he couldn’t simply feel happy after receiving the confession proved that he still possessed at least a shred of conscience.
That trivial conscience.
Normally he could have ignored it. But this time, it wasn’t so easy. Maybe it was because he was that much more careful when it came to Kim Kang-woo.
“Hyung is the best person I know.”
Those words only tightened the pressure around Seok-ho’s chest.
He didn’t know what kind of pull it had been, but Kim Kang-woo was the first person he had ever kept by his side without expecting anything in return.
But if he crossed the line he had drawn… He wasn’t confident he could remain a good adult to Kang-woo until the end.
Even in an age where age gaps weren’t considered such a big deal anymore—
This still wasn’t right.
The other person had only just turned twenty. He was young and inexperienced. It hadn’t even been a month since he had shed the label of being a minor.
At an age when he should still be under the care of family, he had already come out into the world alone. His mental state was likely unstable enough as it was.
Which meant there was a strong chance Kim Kang-woo wasn’t capable of making a completely rational decision right now.
Because Seok-ho himself had been the same.
In his early twenties, he had always been unstable. He constantly felt as though he had been dropped alone into the world. No matter what he did, the emptiness inside him never filled.
So he met people desperately.
For Seok-ho, relationships had been nothing more than a means to satisfy that desperate hunger.
But now—
He couldn’t treat Kim Kang-woo as just another way to satisfy his desires.
Through countless experiences, he had learned something.
The fundamental loneliness of human beings could never be solved through another person. At the time it might feel like everything—but once it passed, nothing remained except shallow encounters.
And so in the end, he had no choice but to reject Kang-woo’s confession.
It hadn’t been easy. As if proving that, even after collapsing onto his bed in a daze early that morning, Seok-ho hadn’t been able to fall asleep.
After tossing and turning all night, he had finally drifted off—
Only to dream about Kim Kang-woo. And have sex with him.
Even though he was the one who should have kept his head straight, he was acting completely immature for his age.
Not even a full day had passed since rejecting the confession, and he was already dreaming about having sex with the kid.
Disgust and contempt toward himself surged up. After sitting there blankly for a while, he lifted a heavy arm and grabbed his phone.
5:00 a.m.
He hadn’t even slept for two full hours.
He had never been particularly laid-back to begin with, but with his stress reaching its peak, his nerves felt even more frayed than usual.
Fatigue washed over him. But washing himself came first.
Seok-ho left the bedroom and stepped into the living room. Beyond the pitch-dark space stood a closed door.
Just imagining Kim Kang-woo asleep in the bed behind that door made the back of his neck burn hot—and blood rushed downward.
His fists clenched tightly on their own.
He had never felt thirst like this before. And lately, it had been getting worse.
It felt as if Kim Kang-woo had somehow turned him into this. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been bewitched by something.
But he had to think rationally. One mistake was enough. From now on, he would never commit such an absurd error again.
Never.
Reaffirming that resolve in his chest, Seok-ho stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water.
Cold water poured over his head for a long time.
***
As he looked into the mirror, his gaze suddenly stopped on his lips.
The place where he had been injured was gradually healing. Even without applying medicine, the wound was slowly closing on its own.
Could the heart heal like that too?
If left alone without effort, would the weight pressing down on it gradually lessen—until it returned to how it was before?
He didn’t regret confessing.
Something that would eventually have festered and burst had simply happened a little sooner than expected.
So even though Seok-ho’s attitude had changed after that day, Kang-woo didn’t feel particularly upset.
If anything, he felt relieved. Seeing Seok-ho’s reaction had made him certain he needed to sort out his feelings step by step.
Right.
At the very least, he had honestly conveyed his feelings to Seok-ho.
Even though the answer he received was that the feelings he believed in were all just a misunderstanding—
At least he himself knew. That the feelings he had toward Seok-ho were genuine.
And that alone was enough for Kang-woo.
Seok-ho had gone to work early again today.
Lately he had been waking up at dawn and heading out to the shop. In truth, Kang-woo didn’t even know if he was actually going there. He simply stayed out all day and only returned late at night, so Kang-woo could only vaguely assume that must be where he went.
The house had grown even quieter.
It had always been a quiet home with just the two of them living there—but now conversation had completely disappeared.
Before, it had been Kang-woo who ignored Seok-ho. Now, Seok-ho also made no effort to speak to him.
They lived under the same roof. But they were no longer living together. It felt like they were living completely separate lives.
So this is how we slowly drift apart, Kang-woo thought.
And at the same time, another question surfaced.
Then… when should I leave this house?
The Seok-ho who had told him to stay here was the Seok-ho who hadn’t known about his feelings. Now the situation had become awkward.
After all, he was the one who had confessed his feelings. It must be uncomfortable for Seok-ho to keep seeing him. That was probably why Seok-ho spent more time outside now.
Even though Kang-woo understood all of this perfectly well, he couldn’t pretend not to know and just stubbornly remain here forever.
It wasn’t like he could live here for the rest of his life anyway.
It was time to slowly prepare to leave Seok-ho’s house and find somewhere else to settle. The road ahead felt bleak.
But there was one thing he was certain about.
Unless his father found him and dragged him back by force, he would never return home of his own will. Somehow, he would make it through on his own. If his father didn’t want him, then he didn’t need to remain his father’s son either.
Steeling his resolve, Kang-woo picked up his phone.
First, he opened a real estate app and looked at housing prices.
Even when he intentionally searched only for the smallest, most rundown places with monthly rent, the prices still made him gasp.
Most deposits were over one million won.
“…Haah. Places like this are completely out of my reach.”
A sigh slipped out.
There were empty houses everywhere in the world—yet somehow there was nowhere for him to stay.
“I wonder how much a goshiwon costs…”
Lowering his expectations, he looked at goshi-tels.
They were much cheaper than villas or studio apartments listed on the market—but even those were far beyond what he could afford with the money he currently had.
The biggest problem was simple.
He had no money.
And it wasn’t like he could ask Seok-ho for help just to move out.
The entire reason he was trying to leave was because he didn’t want to burden Seok-ho anymore. Borrowing money from him again would make no sense.
Hyung, could you lend me some money so I can move somewhere else?
Kang-woo would rather die than say something like that. This was his last shred of pride.
Even the phone he was using right now had been lent to him by Seok-ho. Not just that—everything around him at the moment had come from Seok-ho’s kindness.
Which meant—
All of it was a debt he would eventually have to repay.
