“Uh… y-yeah, sure!”
Lost in his thoughts just a moment ago, Ha-jin responded far too eagerly to Tae-seong’s call. Slinging the bag hanging nearby over his shoulder, he ran to catch up—only for Cheon Tae-seong to reach out, snatch it away, and sling it over his own shoulder with a casual toss.
The sudden loss of weight left Ha-jin briefly dumbfounded, but his face quickly flushed when he saw Tae-seong wearing that old bag like it was his own.
“Your lady friends might be watching. You’ve got to keep up appearances, don’t you?”
As if he’d anticipated whatever Ha-jin might try to say, Tae-seong preemptively shut it down and strode ahead, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
The bag itself was a relic—an old gift from Kwak Mari. The leather was worn smooth from years of use, aged enough to betray its long service.
Now that it was hanging off Cheon Tae-seong’s shoulder, the years it had endured seemed even more painfully obvious. It wasn’t the kind of vintage that looked stylish—no, it was just plain worn and shabby, something that clashed horrendously with his sharp suit. It looked like something you’d find abandoned in a donation bin.
“That doesn’t suit you.”
“That’s the charm.”
Even his extra comment went ignored.
As they stepped outside the executive office, two secretaries and Kim Dae-hong followed closely behind. Reports were rattled off nonstop as they walked the long hallway and took the elevator down to the underground parking lot.
Ha-jin’s gaze wandered to the petite secretary’s heels, then slowly lifted to Tae-seong again.
Why…?
Their eyes met, and Tae-seong raised an eyebrow, silently mouthing, What? Ha-jin quickly shook his head. It was too embarrassing to admit he’d been struck by how attentively Tae-seong matched everyone’s walking pace. It made him seem oddly… considerate.
After passing through the security gate and boarding the waiting car, the secretaries looked visibly disappointed. Judging from their anxious glances, Tae-seong clearly had a mountain of work to deal with, yet he was heading out.
Kim Dae-hong sat in the front passenger seat and input a destination into the navigation system without a moment’s hesitation. Clearly, he’d been told in advance where they were going.
“Heading out now.”
With the quiet announcement from the driver, the car began to move. As always, Tae-seong reached over and took Ha-jin’s hand in his. Ever since learning that physical contact helped stabilize him, he’d made it a routine gesture.
When Ha-jin glanced at him, Tae-seong asked aloud this time:
“What?”
“…About next week’s business trip. Is Chief Kim going with you?”
“Most likely, yeah.”
The moment Ha-jin brought up the trip, Kim Dae-hong glanced back at him.
“Eyes front, Dae-hong.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Without even looking away from Ha-jin, Tae-seong chastised him—then, as if that wasn’t enough, he pressed the button to raise the privacy screen between the front and back seats.
“Why? Did someone shady show up outside your place again?”
It sounded like he was ready to assign Kim Dae-hong as Ha-jin’s personal security detail if the answer was yes. Ha-jin quickly shook his head, and Tae-seong studied him for a moment before tightening his grip on his hand.
Despite all the chances he’d had, Ha-jin couldn’t bring himself to ask the real question: Why aren’t you taking me? The car, racing down the road, felt as quiet as it had that night on the highway not long ago.
They eventually left the main streets and pulled into a peaceful neighborhood, stopping at a parking lot beside a stark white building. The area was oddly quiet—eerily so. Even the rustling of tree leaves in the breeze could be heard clearly.
They stepped out of the lot and walked along a long fence. A small metallic sign at the building’s entrance caught Ha-jin’s eye. The white bricks were impossibly clean, and a golden bar embedded in the wall displayed swirly, engraved French letters.
“Shall we go in?”
Cheon Tae-seong came to stand beside the curious Ha-jin. He lifted one arm, and Ha-jin, having been taught, gently took the crook of his elbow.
“This is what I think it is, right? A clothing store…?”
Ha-jin squinted, trying to read the foreign letters aloud. Tae-seong lightly tapped the back of his hand.
“Cliché? Maybe. But if you want rumors to spread just right, there’s no better place than this.”
When Ha-jin glanced up with a sideways pout, Tae-seong answered with a smile.
“The designer here’s got connections. The clients are the kind of people who’d all love to see me fall. The staff’s got loose lips too. Honestly, it’s perfect.”
“…But don’t you think it’ll look weird if I buy clothes like this? I mean, they won’t even suit me…”
“Baby, you love me, right?”
Tae-seong cut him off with a line so saccharine it practically made Ha-jin’s stomach flip.
“Ugh…”
“Once we go in, you better answer every question without hesitation. These people are freakishly sharp.”
With his other hand, Tae-seong gently cupped Ha-jin’s hand where it clung to his arm. Whether from nerves or tension, his hand was stiff and clenched unusually tight. Tae-seong smiled quietly to himself, knowing full well that the “Lady Friends” excuse was just a smokescreen—the real reason they were here was purely selfish.
Ha-jin, clueless to the deeper motive, nodded with a firm, determined expression.
Pressed up against his side, Ha-jin’s body heat burned hot with presence. The faint pressure of his fingers around Tae-seong’s elbow sent a subtle flush of heat pooling low in Tae-seong’s body.
Then Ha-jin took a deep breath and looked up at him.
“Still… I can say I love you naturally, if that’s what it takes.”
Caught off guard, Tae-seong exhaled sharply. Now that he was finally aware of his own feelings, his imagination had started sprinting ahead—faster than the speed of light. But Ha-jin just kept throwing fuel on the fire.
“…?”
Ha-jin blinked, confused, catching the sudden thickening of Tae-seong’s scent. But Tae-seong only put on a nervous face, pretending to be flustered. Desperate to change the subject, he urged Ha-jin forward—and the two of them waddled toward the entrance, moving like contestants in a three-legged race.
As soon as the door opened, they were greeted by a line of staff members in identical white uniforms, all bowing at a 45-degree angle. Their gold name tags matched the sign outside, and though their courtesy was impeccable, there was a strange chill beneath the surface.
Inside was nothing like the average clothing store Ha-jin had imagined. The caramel-colored wooden walls were packed with gold-trimmed cabinets, so dazzlingly ornate it was hard to believe. Luxurious fabrics hung overhead, while racks below were overflowing with extravagant clothing.
“…Wow. This is… a lot.”
Ha-jin whispered under his breath. Tae-seong pulled him close and kissed him on the forehead—loudly enough to make a smack. Ha-jin, startled, quickly covered the spot with his hand, far too late to save face.
Tae-seong tapped his chin with a single finger.
“Relax. Just act natural.”
“This is your fault I’m nervous…”
At that moment, one of the staff members stepped forward with a polite greeting.
“Good afternoon, CEO Cheon. We were thinking of checking the fit on the suit you ordered last time. Would that be alright?”
“Not today. We’re here to look at clothes for this one.”
The moment the words left his mouth, all eyes turned to Ha-jin. Even the two employees setting out refreshments on the side exchanged sneaky glances, which didn’t escape Ha-jin’s notice.
Should’ve worn something a little less worn-out… He bit his lip and shot a helpless glance at Tae-seong, who was looking around the store like he was inspecting his own wardrobe—relaxed and completely at ease.
“Let’s get his measurements first, then.”
Two staffers wheeled over a large mirror and positioned it in front of Ha-jin. Tae-seong stood behind him, watching the reflection for a moment, then snatched the measuring tape from one of the attendants and circled around to the front.
“Stand straight.”
“…Huh?”
His smile deepened.
“Feet shoulder-width apart. Stand at attention. Arms at your sides.”
“……”
“I’m taking your measurements. Myself.”
The sharp-eyed staffer was already waiting behind him with a notepad.
Ha-jin hesitated, then slowly lifted his arms and held his position. Tae-seong suddenly stepped in, threading his arms under Ha-jin’s from behind. Startled by the unexpected movement, Ha-jin’s eyes widened, blinking rapidly.
“……”
He felt the tape measure graze across his back, then saw Tae-seong’s eyes scan the numbers as the tape crossed in front of his chest. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Tae-seong furrowed his brows slightly and murmured:
“Thirty-seven point eight inches.”
Ha-jin stood stiff, nervous under the weight of Tae-seong’s stare. Holding his arms out like this felt oddly vulnerable, and being scanned so thoroughly made his skin crawl.
Yet Tae-seong’s smile never faded.
“Breathe. It’s not like I’m stabbing you or anything. Why’re you so tense?”
Only then did Ha-jin realize he’d been holding his breath. Tae-seong, unfazed, moved the tape down to his waist.
“Waist, thirty point two.”
When the tape snapped around his hips, Ha-jin jolted slightly without meaning to. He glanced down—and Tae-seong chuckled softly.
“Hips, thirty-five point six.”
“…Do we really have to go this far?”
“Of course we do. That’s how our baby ends up in the prettiest clothes. Plus…”
He straightened up, folding the tape, his eyes glinting with mischief. Then he leaned in close to Ha-jin’s ear and whispered:
“…this makes it fun for me too. It is our date, after all.”
His voice, brushing against Ha-jin’s ear, was syrup-sweet and dizzying. When Ha-jin, blushing fiercely, glanced up—he found even the staff member taking notes had turned red in the face.
