Judging by the way he casually mentioned five million won, it was clear that amount was pocket change to him.
Lately, his health had been deteriorating, and the night shift was becoming harder and harder to endure.
When it came down to weighing the pros and cons, the answer was obvious.
But there was one thing that kept bothering him—Bae Jung-yoon’s unhinged eyes.
If he were to ultimately reject him, Bae Jung-yoon seemed like the kind of person who would go to any length—even if it meant crossing the line—to keep him close.
And that wasn’t some paranoid fantasy. It was a grim possibility that could very well become reality.
He already knew the man who might soon become his employer wasn’t entirely stable. Was it really safe to get involved with someone like that?
But thinking it over wouldn’t change anything.
It’s not like Bae Jung-yoon would suddenly vanish to some far-off place where he couldn’t find him. So what could he really do?
After a few days of deliberation, Go Hoon decided to accept reality. Refusing the offer wouldn’t do him any good anyway.
At the same time, he clung to a sliver of hope: Surely Bae Jung-yoon won’t want me around for the rest of his life… right?
Picking up his phone, Go Hoon called Bae Jung-yoon. The call didn’t even ring once before it connected, and he got straight to the point.
“You free today? We need to talk.”
***
When Bae Jung-yoon asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to talk at my place?” Go Hoon agreed.
Honestly, he would’ve preferred to wrap this up somewhere public, but the topic at hand wasn’t the kind of thing to be discussed at a café or restaurant.
Bae Jung-yoon told him he’d call after his afternoon class and instructed him to meet at the subway station where they’d seen each other last time.
Go Hoon arrived right on time. While he stood by the station exit, a stark white car pulled up—Bae Jung-yoon’s.
He got into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt without a word.
The drive to Bae Jung-yoon’s place passed in silence.
Go Hoon kept quiet, organizing what he wanted to say, and Bae Jung-yoon, perhaps sensing that, simply focused on driving.
“Want something to drink?”
When they stepped into the living room of the officetel, Bae Jung-yoon motioned toward the kitchen as he spoke.
Go Hoon shook his head.
“I’m good.”
This won’t take long anyway. He added silently and sat down on one side of the sofa.
“Come sit over here too.”
No sooner had he said it than Bae Jung-yoon walked over and sat right beside him.
So, what are you going to say now? His gaze seemed to ask.
Go Hoon stared at him for a moment, then opened the bag he’d brought.
He figured there was no point in delaying—Bae Jung-yoon already knew why he was here.
“Let’s draw up a contract.”
He pulled out a neatly prepared sheet of paper from a document holder and handed it over.
Bae Jung-yoon’s eyes flickered with interest.
“A contract?”
“Yeah. I drafted a preliminary version—look it over and decide.”
Taking the paper, Bae Jung-yoon began to read slowly, his eyes like polished glass scanning every line.
Go Hoon stayed quiet and watched him.
“I’m listed as ‘Party B,’ huh?”
After a while, Bae Jung-yoon finally spoke, smirking. Go Hoon responded with a bored nod.
“And after you almost ripped my arm out and threatened me, I’m still the one listed as ‘B’?”
He crossed his arms and muttered, a deeper chuckle rising from his chest.
Go Hoon felt a surge of irritation. What the hell’s so funny? He took a quiet breath, holding back the urge to snap.
Truth be told, he’d wanted to label him something even lower than Party B—something beneath any rank in a chain of command. But he held himself back.
The words You should be grateful hovered at the back of his throat, but instead, he calmed himself and kept talking.
“I didn’t fill in the contract duration. You name it.”
“Let’s go with one-year terms. Automatically renewed unless either of us says otherwise.”
“…A whole year?”
He’d expected three months at most. Raising an eyebrow in displeasure, Go Hoon got a mischievous reply.
“Why? If that’s too short, want to make it ten years instead?”
There was a sparkle in his eye—playful, but not entirely unserious.
If he wasn’t careful, this could actually turn into a decade-long deal.
Alarmed, Go Hoon quickly shook his head.
“No. One year’s fine. That’s the most reasonable.”
He cut it off firmly, and this time, Bae Jung-yoon didn’t argue.
Without a word, he lowered his gaze and read over the document again.
“You were thorough with this. Doesn’t look like anyone could screw you over with it.”
“How generous of you.”
Go Hoon still hadn’t forgotten how those hands had once slammed him against a wall.
How those large fingers had made him feel pain.
His bitterness hadn’t completely faded, so his voice came out sharp.
At that, Bae Jung-yoon’s pitch-black eyes, which had been focused on the typed letters, suddenly shifted to stare at him.
What? I’m saying thanks. Got a problem with that?
Meeting that gaze head-on, Go Hoon opened his mouth again, deliberately brazen.
“Oh, and it’s written down there, but the salary’s seven million won a month.”
It was Bae Jung-yoon who had first brought up the idea of paying him.
Now that they were stepping into an employer-employee relationship, Go Hoon figured he might as well make sure he got what he deserved.
Sure, Bae Jung-yoon had his own situation—but Go Hoon had a life to sustain too. And after everything he’d gone through because of him, he had every right to demand compensation.
That’s why people shouldn’t run their mouths carelessly. If Bae Jung-yoon had said it, then he should take responsibility for it.
Still, Go Hoon hadn’t gone overboard. He’d calculated the amount based on the combined income from his factory job and delivery work—factoring in the upper end of what he could earn with maximum effort. Okay, maybe he’d padded the numbers just a little.
But so what? It’s not like Bae Jung-yoon was hurting for money.
And besides, everyone knows you start high in contract negotiations so there’s room to compromise.
This wasn’t some street-market haggling, sure—but he wasn’t about to let himself be underestimated.
Honestly, Go Hoon hadn’t expected Bae Jung-yoon to agree to seven million so easily.
“You should’ve just gone for a clean ten million. Why stop at seven?”
But instead of balking, Bae Jung-yoon went a step further.
Go Hoon flinched. Ten million? Is he insane? That’s way too much for a human body pillow.
That was what ran through his mind—but he didn’t let any of it show.
“Seven just sounds nice. Lucky number, you know?”
He answered with a straight face, and Bae Jung-yoon let out a short laugh.
Unfazed, Go Hoon kept his expression serious and continued.
“And I’ll need some time to wrap up my part-time jobs. So let’s set the contract start date for a month from now.”
He knew it was proper etiquette to give at least a month’s notice before quitting.
Sure, he’d caused a few incidents at the factory—never intentionally, of course—but he still wanted to leave on good terms.
Apparently, that kind of consideration didn’t matter to Bae Jung-yoon.
“That won’t work.”
He shook his head firmly, cutting him off without hesitation.
“I’m in a bit of a rush.”
But Go Hoon wasn’t going to budge on this point.
He’d already caused enough trouble for the Factory Manager. This time, he wanted to handle things properly—formally.
“That’s not going to fly. I’m not backing down on this.”
Go Hoon stood his ground, matching Bae Jung-yoon’s resolve.
After thinking for a moment, Bae Jung-yoon offered a compromise.
“It’s the nights that are hard, right? Then just come to my place before your factory shift.”
“So… you want me to nap here?”
“Yeah. It’s not that big of a deal, is it?”
“I’ve got studying to do.”
“Then just two hours. That’s all I ask.”
Two hours… That might be doable. Is it really that urgent?
Go Hoon narrowed his eyes, examining Bae Jung-yoon’s face.
Same as always—neat and tidy, with a slightly sleepy look.
“How much sleep have you been getting lately?”
The question came out almost unconsciously. Insomnia—that word had been stuck in his mind.
“Hmm.”
Bae Jung-yoon gave a quiet sigh, his eyes flicking upward as if doing mental math, before slowly blinking and meeting Go Hoon’s gaze.
“Maybe four hours total.”
A crease formed between Go Hoon’s brows. Four hours?
So ever since that day, he hadn’t gotten a single decent night’s sleep.
Granted, Go Hoon hadn’t been sleeping well either since returning to everyday life—but not to that extent.
Wasn’t that enough to leave someone totally out of it?
But outwardly, Bae Jung-yoon looked completely fine.
Like this had just become his norm.
Why was he dealing with insomnia? Not that there always had to be a reason, but it still made Go Hoon curious.
And for some reason, he felt a pang of sympathy.
Just how badly must he want rest to go this far?
“…Alright. Then we’ll revise that part.”
That’s why, this time, Go Hoon decided to yield.
It wasn’t like Bae Jung-yoon was being unreasonable. He’d offered a compromise—and refusing just for the sake of it didn’t sit right.
Bae Jung-yoon didn’t seem to have any objections either. He quietly skimmed through the rest of the contract, then reached into the drawer and pulled out a pen.
What’s he doing now?
Go Hoon stared suspiciously as Bae Jung-yoon started writing something in the margin.
“What are you doing?”
“There were no specifics. I’m adding some details.”
He’s not seriously adding some absurd clause, is he?
Suspicion flared instantly—but Go Hoon decided to wait and see.
Even under his watchful gaze, Bae Jung-yoon calmly continued writing in neat, deliberate handwriting:
1) Under all circumstances, Party A must return to Party B’s residence before 10 p.m.
2) Under all circumstances, Party A must eat dinner with Party B.
3) Under all circumstances, Party A and Party B must sleep in the same bed.
Reading those lines, Go Hoon frowned instinctively.
“Back by 10 p.m.? Are you kidding? What am I, a seventeen-year-old with a curfew?”
“You know I stick to a routine. If I want to be asleep by eleven, I need to be home by ten to start winding down.”
“But you have insomnia. Can you even fall asleep by eleven?”
“I usually lie down at that time, trying to sleep. Doesn’t always work. But Hoon-ah… I think if you’re with me, it might.”
Go Hoon scowled—but Bae Jung-yoon’s expression was completely serious. His eyes were filled with quiet certainty, as if he genuinely believed it.
