“Bae Jung-yoon, is that really how you talk to someone you’re meeting for the first time?”
Even after Go Hoon pointed out his rudeness, Bae Jung-yoon didn’t flinch. He showed no intention of apologizing—didn’t even seem the slightest bit sorry. He simply stared at Hoon in silence.
Go Hoon met that slightly off-kilter gaze for a moment, then turned away.
“Sorry about that. He’s a friend of mine—seems like there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I think it’d be best if you headed off first.”
Getting Woo Gun-hyung out of this situation seemed like the smartest move. Judging from the way Bae Jung-yoon was carrying himself, it was obvious something would blow up if things went on like this.
“Yeah, I guess it’s better if I step aside for now.”
Woo Gun-hyung, eyes fixed on Hoon, gave a small shrug and calmly walked to the car, getting behind the wheel.
“I’ll call you. See you next time.”
He gave a casual wave with his phone and drove off. The car disappeared smoothly from view. As Hoon’s eyes lingered in that direction, a flat voice cut through the silence.
“I’m asking again, Hoon. Who the hell was that guy?”
It wasn’t hard to tell Bae Jung-yoon was pissed. His tone was definitely different from usual.
But Go Hoon didn’t get it. What was there to be so sensitive about? It wasn’t like anything inappropriate had happened.
He turned around. Bae Jung-yoon’s face was stone cold. Meeting his gaze for a moment, Hoon finally spoke.
“Just someone I know.”
What else could he say about Woo Gun-hyung? A guy he’d run into by chance at a gay bar. That wasn’t exactly something he could just blurt out. No way in hell.
Sure, the way they first met had been a bit odd, but nothing happened between them. They’d had a drink—well, technically, only Woo Gun-hyung drank—and grabbed a meal. That was it. No reason to be looked at like some pervert who just got caught red-handed.
“Someone you know?”
But Bae Jung-yoon’s voice dripped with disbelief.
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“What reason would you have not to?”
What did you think we were? And even if you did misunderstand—what does it matter to you? Hoon bit back the words rising to his throat and glanced around.
“Let’s just talk at home.”
It was ridiculous standing out here, arguing on the street. No point in dragging this out in public with people walking by.
With that, Go Hoon started walking. As he passed Bae Jung-yoon, he could feel the burning glare piercing the back of his head. Thankfully, Jung-yoon didn’t seem eager to make a scene outside either—he followed quietly behind.
Bae Jung-yoon stayed silent until they got inside the officetel. But the moment he stepped onto the living room floor after taking off his shoes, his patience finally snapped.
A hand grabbed Hoon’s arm. The grip was no joke. Hoon frowned and looked over, but there was no sign of the pressure letting up.
Just as he tried to pull away, Bae Jung-yoon spoke.
“Is it him?”
Is what? Hoon looked at him with questioning eyes. Then Jung-yoon pressed on, his voice cold.
“The guy you like.”
A laugh escaped Hoon before he could stop it. What the hell was this now? Jung-yoon’s brain was seriously off in the deep end today.
How the hell did he end up jumping to that conclusion? Who knew what kind of insane story had played out in his head on the walk back.
And it wasn’t even something he hadn’t already cleared up. He’d told Kim Yeo-jin that was just an excuse to keep her from getting the wrong idea—that he didn’t like anyone. He’d shut it down clearly. Of course, that had been a bold-faced lie on his part—but for Bae Jung-yoon to still be obsessing over it was weird.
Back then, and now, his behavior made no damn sense.
“Judging from the vibe, you two haven’t known each other long. Looks like you just met recently.”
Still speechless, Hoon stared at him, and Jung-yoon continued in a steady tone.
“Was it that day? When I had to leave for a family event?”
How the hell did he nail it like that? Like he’d been watching the whole thing unfold from start to finish. What, was this guy secretly the son of a shaman or something?
“You stalking me or what?”
Hoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously and asked.
It wasn’t like Bae Jung-yoon had actual psychic powers. The only possibility left was that he’d been secretly following him. Hoon had no clue what he’d even gain from that, but at this point, suspicion was inevitable.
“I just took a wild guess.”
As usual, Bae Jung-yoon answered with zero shame. That was all just a guess? Did he really expect Hoon to buy that?
When Hoon didn’t respond and just stared, Jung-yoon explained further.
“Think about it. That’s the only day it could’ve been. We’ve been together practically nonstop. And there’s no way you met that guy on campus.”
Yeah. Everything he said was true. They had been glued to each other almost every day. And it was obvious at a glance that Woo Gun-hyung wasn’t someone you’d ever run into at school.
“On top of that, you started acting strange around the same time.”
Bae Jung-yoon pointed it out with a calm face. And for some reason, Go Hoon felt a faint twinge of disappointment. So that shift—when he’d first realized his feelings and started paying more attention to Jung-yoon—had seemed weird to him. That’s what it looked like from his eyes. Hoon couldn’t help but feel a little stung.
Still, setting that aside, this whole explanation didn’t sound all that convincing. He couldn’t shake the suspicion. What if there really was a hidden CCTV camera somewhere in this place? He glanced around the apartment with growing unease, only for Bae Jung-yoon to take a step closer.
“Just be honest. Where did you go that day?”
The direct question made Hoon flinch and instinctively look away. He instantly regretted it. He should’ve just stuck to his story and denied everything. But now, even if he tried to backpedal, Bae Jung-yoon wouldn’t believe a word.
He couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes—because he couldn’t say out loud where he’d been that day. Naturally, Bae Jung-yoon didn’t miss that moment of hesitation.
“What kind of place were you at that someone like him latched on to you, Hoon?”
“Someone like him? Bae Jung-yoon, don’t talk about him like that. He’s not a bad person.”
Hoon’s eyes flashed in response to the derisive tone. That kind of language—referring to Woo Gun-hyung like he was trash—really didn’t sit right with him.
Woo Gun-hyung hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d just offered to give him a ride to the station out of kindness. And from what Hoon had seen, the guy was actually a decent human being.
Bae Jung-yoon’s pitch-black eyes stared at him coldly. What the hell was this? Why did it feel like they were squaring off like enemies? Hoon furrowed his brow.
“I don’t get it. Why are you being so sensitive about this? I told you, he’s just someone I know.”
“‘Someone you know’?”
Bae Jung-yoon let out a sharp, scoffing laugh.
“He didn’t look like just someone you know, Hoon.”
He stepped in again. The distance between them suddenly felt suffocating, and Hoon instinctively backed up.
“He wasn’t looking at you like an old acquaintance. That guy definitely wasn’t.”
As the fading light dimmed the room, those black eyes of his glinted like obsidian.
“You think I don’t notice anything, Hoon?”
He sounded like a detective grilling a suspect—relentless, calculating. Digging for a confession Hoon had no intention of giving. Even though he’d done nothing wrong. Or… if falling for someone counted as wrongdoing, then maybe he was guilty.
But Bae Jung-yoon didn’t know. Didn’t know the kind of feelings Hoon had been hiding whenever he looked at him.
“So what if I like someone? What does that have to do with you?”
And he meant it. Was this possessiveness really just about being Kkongddeok’s guardian? Or was there something else behind it?
The fact that part of him even hoped there might be more felt pathetic. What was he expecting, exactly? A confession? A reason to stay? As a hint of self-pity crept in, the words left his mouth before he could stop them.
“I don’t see why I need to report who I meet or where I go.”
You didn’t tell me, either. The day he saw him with Choi Joo-won—Bae Jung-yoon hadn’t said a word about it. If Hoon hadn’t witnessed it himself, he probably never would’ve known.
That memory welled up again, and along with it came a rush of bitter emotion. Then, cutting through it all, came Bae Jung-yoon’s firm voice.
“You’re mine.”
“…What?”
Hoon blinked, stunned, barely managing to move his lips. But Jung-yoon replied matter-of-factly, like he was stating a legal fact.
“We have a contract. So for now, you belong to me.”
And in that moment, Hoon realized he never should’ve asked. He hadn’t been expecting anything grand, but still—hearing it spelled out like that didn’t feel good.
“Talk all you want, but let’s get one thing straight—I’m the one in charge.”
Hoon debated saying more but settled on reminding him of something he’d conveniently forgotten.
Sure, he was basically a puppet —but even so, it mattered. Maybe it was just pride, but calling this out was the only way he could claw back a little dignity.
“Then I’ll correct myself. I belong to you.”
Bae Jung-yoon didn’t miss a beat. No hesitation, no shame. Just casually flipped it around. Like it made perfect sense. The words were absurd, and yet he said them with complete conviction.
“If you’re responsible for someone, you can’t just go giving your heart to anyone else, Hoon.”
His tone was gentle, almost affectionate—but his expression was frozen stiff.
“There can’t be anything that gets in the way of what we have. I don’t want this relationship to shake.”
So that was it. What he really meant was: nothing could interfere with their business relationship.
Which made one thing painfully clear—Go Hoon couldn’t stay with him.
Because he was already the biggest threat to this whole thing.
“Hey.”
Hoon exhaled slowly, locking eyes with him. And then he said it—calm and final.
“I can’t stay with you anymore. Let’s end the contract.”
