The car was silent.
Manager Park Seung-hwan kept stealing glances at the rearview mirror. In the back seat, a man lounged with one leg crossed over the other, slumped comfortably in his seat, eyes fixed on his phone. But instead of reviewing today’s script, he was fully immersed in an R-rated BL novel.
Seung-hwan let out a quiet sigh and blinked slowly. It would’ve been nice if he so much as glanced at the script during the ride, but the way he was absorbed, that clearly wasn’t happening. Even if Seung-hwan said something, the only reply he’d get was the usual, “I’ve already memorized it.” Not that Seung-hwan had much room to argue—his acting was flawless.
Yeo Eun-jo.
He started acting at the age of eight, a child star with a cute, lovable face. With those round eyes and his naturally charming expressions, he was so talented he swept every commercial gig that year.
As he grew older, his acting deepened—and his looks became downright dangerous. Silky hair, gentle eyes that curved when he smiled, a straight nose, and dimples carved deep into both cheeks… he wasn’t just “handsome” anymore. He was mesmerizing. With those stunning visuals and undeniable acting chops, it was only natural he kept landing lead roles in romance dramas.
But you couldn’t let that face fool you. Not for a second.
Seung-hwan, now three years into managing him, knew better than anyone. He’d seen the exact moment that angelic face would soften—like a damn pervert.
“Hehe.”
“Eun-jo. I told you not to laugh like that.”
Honestly? Yeo Eun-jo was the easiest celebrity Seung-hwan had ever worked with. He wasn’t fussy, never made petty demands like other idols, and refused to get involved in scandals—said it wasn’t respectful to his fans. By all accounts, he was a hundred-out-of-a-hundred, model celebrity.
If you overlooked the fact that he was obsessed with R-rated BL novels.
“What if someone actually catches you on camera? Those paparazzi lenses are insane now.”
“I’m just reading a novel. It’s not a big deal.”
“A novel? You’re calling that just a noooovel?”
Seung-hwan dragged out the word, disbelief dripping from his voice.
“It’s just a story about guys screwing each other. That’s a novel to you?”
“Yup.”
Honestly, these days it feels weirder when it’s a guy and a girl together. Eun-jo replied flatly, tapping at the screen. The pages flipped rapidly, and a section full of moaning sounds came into view.
He was already on the final volume. As he checked how many pages were left, he sighed in disappointment and locked the screen. Then, instead of continuing, he suddenly leaned forward between the front seats.
“Hyung, if I did get caught, what kind of headline do you think it’d be?”
With Seung-hwan ignoring him, Eun-jo teased playfully toward the back of his head.
“Shocking revelation! Former child star Yeo Eun-jo is a gay erotica fan…”
“Hey! Yeo Eun-jo!”
“Been reading since childhood… claims it deeply inspires his acting…”
“Are you seriously insane?”
“Mom, I just like this kind of thing. Korea’s first openly BL-loving actor…”
“HEY!”
Eun-jo burst into laughter at Seung-hwan’s horrified expression, lightly patting his shoulder before leaning back into his seat and crossing his legs again.
“Still, it’s not like it affects my work.”
If he ever started racking up mistakes, not just the agency CEO but his mom too would be blowing up his phone. He’d spent the last fifteen years as a prized asset of the company, molded to live inside a carefully crafted box. And reading BL novels was the only little rebellion he allowed himself.
No one understood that better than Park Seung-hwan, who sighed deeply.
“Fine. Just… drink some water while you’re at it…”
He reached back with a plastic bottle of water—
And in the blink of an eye, everything turned white.
Not even a full second passed.
A car speeding in the wrong direction slammed into their van, which spun violently out of control. Bright light flashed outside the window, then darkness. The front and side glass shattered into splinters. Everything inside the car went flying—and Eun-jo’s body lifted off the seat, weightless.
Ah, goddamn it.
In the moment he felt death coming, Eun-jo didn’t think about his overbearing mom, the agency CEO, or even the drama he’d been filming.
No—what flashed through his mind was the BL novel he hadn’t finished.
The epilogue drops tomorrow… Fuck!
A deafening crash tore through the air—and everything went black.
When Eun-jo opened his eyes again, the sharp stench of smoke was already creeping in, thick and suffocating.
“Ugh…”
He groaned, lifting his head. The inside of the van was a wreck, barely visible through the haze. The roof had caved in, and the back seat was so twisted and crushed it was unrecognizable.
The second he tried to move, pain shot through his body like shattered glass grinding against muscle. Every breath stabbed at his chest. Probably broken ribs. Dragging his limp legs behind him, Eun-jo gasped and crawled toward the front seat.
Slumped over the steering wheel was Seung-hwan.
The front of the van had crumpled like a crushed carton, and his legs were pinned under the wreckage.
“Hyung… Seung-hwan hyung…”
“……”
“Come on. Wake up, please.”
Maybe his voice reached him—Seung-hwan’s body trembled faintly, but he didn’t regain consciousness. Even so, he was still gripping the gearshift like he was bracing for impact. The backs of his hands, pale and cracked from always giving Eun-jo the hand warmers during cold shoots, were stark in the smoke.
Fire was just a matter of time now. The smart thing would’ve been to open the door and get out while he still could.
But his body moved faster than his thoughts.
“Tch… shit.”
This isn’t like me at all.
“I’m not doing this for you, hyung. It’s for your wife. And your kid…”
He reached out and clasped Seung-hwan’s hand, then pushed himself further into the front.
“Ngh!”
Practically falling into the seat, Eun-jo groped for the seatbelt and unlatched it. Thankfully, the door wasn’t jammed. It opened with a click.
Mustering everything he had left, he shoved Seung-hwan out through the narrow gap. By some miracle, the ground sloped away from the van—Seung-hwan rolled down and came to a stop against a utility pole.
Finally, with a low groan, he opened his eyes.
Just as Seung-hwan shouted something, Eun-jo felt it—death.
He closed his eyes as an explosion tore through the van, swallowing everything in darkness.
And that was it.
No regrets. His family had been distant for years. He’d died saving Seung-hwan—he could live with that.
If there was one thing that truly stuck in his mind…
It was that he’d never get to finish that damn novel.
***
“Ngh…”
A low groan slipped from his lips as Eun-jo blinked. He must’ve had his eyes shut for a long time—his vision was still blurry.
Then… he felt it.
He was rising.
Floating—then dropping.
His gaze slowly adjusted. A figure came into view above him.
When his vision finally cleared, the shape solidified: a man, straddling him, moving his hips with rhythmic thrusts.
Under tousled, golden-brown hair was a boyish face—couldn’t be more than twenty. Still had a touch of baby fat clinging to his cheeks, but the body underneath was a complete contrast. Lean. Defined.
What kind of guy has a body like this…?
Even Eun-jo, who’d seen more than his share of celebrity physiques, was stunned. The man looked sculpted—like an artist had carved every muscle into place with obsessive detail. As Eun-jo’s eyes lingered on those perfectly cut abs, the guy suddenly gripped his thigh hard—like he was about to tear through it.
“Haa… Hyung.”
In one smooth motion, he hoisted Eun-jo’s legs onto his shoulders and folded him in half, driving his hips downward.
Eun-jo’s back arched. The cock that had been pounding into him slammed in even deeper.
“Ah—ahhhng!”
The thick tip crashed against a spot deep inside, and pleasure exploded through him.
He’d never felt anything like it before.
His whole body shook like he’d been electrocuted, toes curling as wave after wave of ecstasy surged through him.
The man didn’t let up—not even when Eun-jo was gasping for air.
If anything, he seemed even more turned on. His hips pounded harder, slamming into him with bone-rattling force.
“You’ve got room to think right now? Must not be that bad, huh?”
He groaned as he thrust in deep, pushing all the way to the end. There was nowhere left to go, but still, he rolled his hips like he was trying to reach further.
Eun-jo glanced down, barely able to swallow his moans. Between his trembling white thighs, the man’s cock was moving—thick, long, and merciless, like a goddamn serpent.
It was hard to believe a guy could even have a cock that size.
Harder still to believe that thing was buried inside him.
His hole stretched wide to take it, the rim fluttering open with every thrust, clinging tight as if reluctant to let it go when it pulled back. It was obscene. Hypnotic.
And despite this being his first time taking a man, there was no pain. No discomfort. Just pure, overwhelming pleasure.
Eun-jo couldn’t even process what was happening. He was too far gone—moaning, panting, unraveling with every slow grind of the man’s hips.
“Didn’t you used to cry about not wanting to Guide?” the man drawled, voice low and mocking. “And now look at you… clenching down like you love it.”
“Hnngh—ah, ahhhk… nghh…!”
“You’re into it, huh?”
A large hand reached down, brushing against where they were connected. The man’s fingers toyed with the rim of his stretched hole—stroking it, circling it like he was about to shove them in too.
He whispered against his skin.
“Right here.”
“……”
“This pretty little hole of yours loves swallowing cock, doesn’t it, hyung?”
“Ahn… ahh, fuck…”
Eun-jo didn’t even know what the hell he was hearing anymore—but one thing was clear: he wanted it.
Not this slow, teasing rhythm.
He wanted to be wrecked. Fucked senseless. Hammered until his guts ached and the only sound he could make was a scream.
And if there was one thing Yeo Eun-jo was good at…
It was getting exactly what he wanted.
All he had to do was figure out what the other person needed—and hand it to them on a silver platter.
