His lower body felt like it was being torn apart. Like a bitch giving birth to pups, Eun-jo desperately rubbed his cheek against the desk, letting out a broken moan.
Then—with a dull thud—two chunks of ice tore through his tender flesh and slipped free from his bright red hole.
“Aeuung, ah, haa…”
Only after the final shard of ice had been expelled did Park Se-yul release him.
“Hueu, ugh…”
Eun-jo was completely out of it. His stomach still felt icy cold, like the ice hadn’t left him. He didn’t need to look to know his lower half was wrecked. Gasping for air, he collapsed onto the floor.
Park Se-yul calmly picked up the scattered pieces of ice, one by one, and placed them on the desk where Eun-jo had rubbed his cheek just moments ago. Then, using his ability, he formed an icebox and carefully stored them inside.
Fucking psycho…
As if nothing had happened, Park Se-yul sat back down in his chair and looked down at Eun-jo.
“What are you doing? Get dressed and leave.”
“……”
“Come back in three days.”
Adjusting his rimmed glasses, he returned to his paperwork.
Eun-jo rose on unsteady legs and began putting his clothes back on. He slowly pulled up his pants, buttoned his shirt, all the while Park Se-yul didn’t spare him a single glance. That indifference—as if he’d seen all there was to see—made Eun-jo bite down hard on his lip.
So this is just punishment, huh.
It was clear that Park Se-yul wanted to draw a line—this wasn’t about lust. It was about control.
Gritting his teeth, Eun-jo glanced toward him, that perfectly composed face of a team leader.
Then something caught his eye.
Huh?
The bulge between Park Se-yul’s legs was painfully obvious, like it was ready to burst.
Of course.
His lower half was practically screaming. Eun-jo let out a dry laugh in his head. Park Se-yul might be good at pretending, but his body wasn’t lying.
Until now, everything could be written off as “punishment.” But to go any further, it needed to be something else.
Something that crossed the line.
Without wiping the tears from his face, Eun-jo clenched the hem of his shirt. Then, quietly, he asked,
“Will I get punished like this next time, too…?”
His soft, trembling voice echoed faintly through the room. The hand flipping through papers came to a sudden stop.
“……Do you think this is enough?”
“It’s not like that…”
Eun-jo lowered his head, clearly flustered, and mumbled under his breath.
“It just… felt kind of weird…”
His lips trembled like someone rattled by unexpected pleasure, and he quickly ducked his head. Then, without waiting for permission, he bolted out of the office.
Even after Eun-jo had left, Park Se-yul remained frozen in place for a long moment.
“Heh.”
He let out a dry laugh and leaned back in his chair. He’d barely managed to rein in his desire, but Eun-jo’s final words kept looping in his head.
That tear-streaked face. The way he kept counting despite the pain. The choked voice crying out as he pushed out the ice. The image of Eun-jo, trembling and utterly obscene, came rushing back—followed by a fresh wave of aching desire.
“Fuck.”
He set his glasses down and stood, heading toward the bathroom. Tonight, he knew for sure—Eun-jo would haunt his dreams.
***
His whole body felt like it was melting.
He showed up to work, but he was hanging by a thread. His thighs were a mess of bruises, and just shifting slightly sent pain flaring between his legs.
“Fucking bastard…”
Last time, the guy had at least helped him shower. This time? Just told him to get dressed and go.
“You beat me up like that and then leave me hanging? Where’s your damn conscience…”
Eun-jo groaned and slumped over his desk, picturing how pristine and put-together Park Se-yul had looked afterward. Outside the window, the sky was a brilliant blue.
The weather was perfect. The breeze was cool, the sunlight warm but not harsh. He wanted to take a walk around the center—just once around—but honestly? He’d probably collapse before he made it halfway, and he’d bet every penny he had on that.
Not that he had many pennies to bet.
Still, if he included the card from Jin Mu-seong, it wasn’t nothing, right? He was spiraling into that meaningless train of thought when—
Knock knock.
The door creaked open, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Only two people wore those kind of shoes around here: Jin Mu-seong and Park Se-yul. The team leaders.
Eun-jo didn’t bother getting up. Still slumped over his desk, he just twisted his head toward the door.
“Well, what brings someone so high and mighty to a dump like this?”
As expected, it was Jin Mu-seong. He looked sharp as ever in a full suit, probably just back from external work. In one hand, he held a drink carrier with two cups. Their eyes met, and Jin Mu-seong’s gaze curved into a soft, knowing smile.
“Hey, baby.”
He walked over and gave Eun-jo a slow once-over—like he was undressing him with his eyes. It was almost predatory. After a long stare, he clicked his tongue.
“If I jump you now, I’ll probably kill you.”
He set the drinks down on the desk. The scent of fresh coffee wafted through the room. Ugh. He was seriously about to die. Still sprawled over the desk, Eun-jo lazily rolled his eyes toward the cup.
“That one for me?”
“Obviously. You think I brought two just for myself?”
Jin Mu-seong smirked. It looked like his usual smile, but there was something… off. Like something was bugging him. Not that Eun-jo had the energy to care right now.
He groaned and pushed himself up, one hand on his lower back like some eighty-year-old grandpa. Jin Mu-seong picked up a cup and raised it toward him.
“You want me to feed you?”
“What, you think I’m your girlfriend or something?”
“You are.”
He brought the cup to Eun-jo’s lips and muttered,
“You’re always sprawled out like some little brat. You’re mine, alright.”
His tone was grouchy, but the way he tilted the cup for him was gentle. The warmth of the coffee sliding down his throat was the first thing that made him feel human again.
“Of course I’d end up in this state…”
Jin Mu-seong wiped the last drop of coffee from Eun-jo’s lower lip, not missing a single trace, then gently cupped his cheek. God knows where he’d been or what he’d been doing—those soft, chubby cheeks looked noticeably thinner. Like he was inspecting merchandise, Jin Mu-seong tilted Eun-jo’s face side to side, examining him closely. Eun-jo scowled.
“What? Do I look ugly all of a sudden or something?”
“……”
Instead of answering, Jin Mu-seong pressed into both cheeks with his thumbs. Then his hand slid down along Eun-jo’s neck, trailing lightly over the collar of his shirt.
His fingers slipped between the buttons—thumb and forefinger parting the fabric to reveal the skin underneath. With just a flick, the shirt gaped open to expose his chest, the pale pink flush of his skin visible. His gaze lingered for a moment on the erect, swollen areola, then his hand withdrew.
“Whoever did this to you… sure didn’t hold back.”
His voice dropped to a low rumble. Then his fingers moved lower, slipping beneath the shirt, sliding down his torso like he could see right through it. Past his waist, down to his thighs—no hesitation, no pause. And when his fingers finally pressed against one of the bruises, Eun-jo let out a soft gasp. Jin Mu-seong’s lips twisted into a crooked smirk.
“Park Se-yul, huh?”
“……”
“Knew it.”
The silence was answer enough. He scoffed.
“Got the nerve to lecture me about being vulgar, and yet look at him.”
Fucking hypocrite.
Just thinking about Park Se-yul, always buttoned up like a self-righteous prick, made his blood boil. He’d actually been in a decent mood when he first showed up at the Guiding Room—but now? That mood was gone.
Still wearing that fake, easygoing smile, Jin Mu-seong scooped Eun-jo up like pulling a stubborn weed. And without warning, he threw him over his shoulder.
“Hey—what the hell?!”
“Not hey, baby.”
He casually corrected him, then hooked an arm under his thighs to support his weight. Eun-jo kicked and thrashed.
“I can’t—I seriously can’t today!”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to do anything either, baby.”
“Then why the hell—!”
Why are you carrying me off like this, you bastard?! He struggled with everything he had, but Jin Mu-seong’s arms were solid steel. No matter how much he fought, he couldn’t break free.
No use fighting battles you can’t win.
That was Yeo Eun-jo’s one and only life motto. And so, just like that, he went limp—surrendering like a sack of rice.
The place Jin Mu-seong brought him to? A sauna.
The door swung open to reveal a massive space. A large main bath took center stage, flanked by two sub-pools on either side, and a dry sauna tucked neatly into one corner. Bamboo decorations lined the walls, giving it a polished, luxurious finish.
What kind of sauna is this?
He’d thought the showers at the Training Center were over-the-top—but this? This was insane.
You could stick this place in a five-star hotel and no one would care about the breakfast. They’d just come for the sauna.
While Eun-jo gawked, eyes darting around like he couldn’t believe it, Jin Mu-seong was already peeling off his clothes. And with every layer that came off, his expression grew darker.
