It was impossible to tell which felt hotter—the breath brushing against his ear or the hand slipping beneath the robe. Trying to focus on both at once made his head feel like it was going to explode. To be exact, it wasn’t because of complicated thoughts, but because the sheer heat flooding his face was making his head pound.
Without the slightest hesitation—like it was the most natural thing in the world—Seung-hyeon reached between Seon-woo’s legs. He knew he should push him away. His mind screamed it, but his body refused to obey, as if something inside had short-circuited.
“Should I take care of it for you?”
At last, Seung-hyeon’s hand closed around Seon-woo’s cock. The soft murmur accompanying the gesture made Seon-woo shut his eyes tight, clenching his teeth against the surge of embarrassment.
Given where his hand was, it didn’t make sense that Seung-hyeon could sound so calm. And yet his voice was maddeningly composed. But the fact that he was whispering right into his ear made it impossible for Seon-woo to stay as composed as him. It seemed like he was the only one flustered, the only one burning up in mortification.
“Move your hand. Just—move it.”
Seon-woo managed to pull his voice together, forcing himself to sound cold. His naturally firm tone didn’t come off as soft or trembling, but it wasn’t as steady and emotionless as usual either.
Seung-hyeon pretended not to hear.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Even to his own ears, the words lacked any real conviction, yet Seung-hyeon remained shamelessly brazen. The moment Seon-woo parted his lips to say something more, Seung-hyeon’s hand began to stroke him gently. The motion was startlingly natural.
His hand wasn’t cold, but not hot either—it was just the right temperature. Embarrassingly enough, Seon-woo had already been hard since Seung-hyeon started speaking to him, so there was no need to coax it further. Seung-hyeon’s fingers swept along the tip, teasingly.
A shiver ran from the crown of his head down his spine, and his hips twitched involuntarily. He had to stay tense to keep any moan or gasp from slipping out through clenched teeth. The relentless touch was so persistent it was hard to endure.
Then, just as suddenly, Seung-hyeon stopped his teasing and subtly shifted the angle of his hand, wrapping it around the shaft. Seon-woo, who hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, suddenly snapped back to his senses. If he was going to push him away, this was the time. He reached out, placing his hand over Seung-hyeon’s, intending to stop him. But even with that unmistakable intent, Seung-hyeon didn’t let go. Instead, as if seizing the opportunity, he quickly flipped their hands’ positions.
In a flash, Seon-woo’s hand was pinned by Seung-hyeon’s, and frustration welled up as he bit down on his lip. Seung-hyeon guided their entwined hands back over Seon-woo’s cock, making him move as if he were masturbating himself.
“Ha…”
A sigh spilled out of Seon-woo’s mouth, laced with both irritation and pleasure. Even though his hand was being forced—half against his will—what they were doing was closer to masturbation than actual sex. But for some reason, it felt entirely different. He couldn’t understand why. Was it because he wasn’t used to doing this kind of thing often? Is that why it felt so unfamiliar?
Gwak Seon-woo was never the type to regularly relieve his sexual urges. Maybe that was normal in your twenties, but now that he was in his thirties, just getting through work left him too drained to even entertain the thought. On the rare occasions that he did, it was little more than a perfunctory routine—dry, detached strokes with no real feeling. He’d never experienced something this slow and deliberate before.
Or maybe it was because it wasn’t his own hand. He was clearly the one feeling all the sensations, and yet it almost felt like he was touching someone else’s cock. That unfamiliarity seemed to heighten every nerve-ending, making him hypersensitive to the touch.
He could resist if he really wanted to. But the pleasure that crept up from below wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and for once, the system was silent. So instead of fighting it, Seon-woo decided to let himself go and surrender to the sensation of Seung-hyeon’s hand. That didn’t mean the awkwardness and embarrassment magically disappeared. Eventually, the discomfort got to him, and he opened his mouth, desperate to say something to cut through the tension.
“Hey.”
Seung-hyeon replied instantly.
“Yes, Director.”
His voice was just as composed as it had been when he’d asked, “Should I take care of it for you?” But the breath hitting his ear—maybe it was just in Seon-woo’s head—felt even hotter than before.
Seon-woo asked as evenly as he could manage, “Is this how you do it when you masturbate?”
Seung-hyeon’s hand, which had been moving with such ease, faltered for the first time. Because of that hesitation, Seon-woo’s hand, which had been caught beneath his, was momentarily freed. Seon-woo seized the chance to slip his hand away.
But rather than grabbing it again, Seung-hyeon simply wrapped his own hand around Seon-woo’s cock, now alone. He ran his palm from the sensitive tip all the way down to the base, like he was measuring it, and then answered.
“…I think it’s more or less the same.”
His tone still sounded calm, but Seon-woo could instinctively tell something had shifted—there wasn’t the same composure in his voice as before. For the first time since this all started, Seon-woo felt something like satisfaction, no longer the only one breathless and out of sorts. He began wondering what else he could say to throw Gwak Seung-hyeon off balance. That thought made his mood brighten.
But as if reading his mind, Seung-hyeon suddenly cut in.
“What do you think?”
Just as Seon-woo was about to ask what he was referring to, Seung-hyeon leaned in closer. He’d thought there wasn’t a sliver of space left between them, but apparently, he’d been mistaken. The moment their lower bodies pressed flush against each other, Seon-woo flinched. Through the thin robe, he felt it—hot, hard, right up against his ass.
It was only then that he realized: with that calm voice, Seung-hyeon had just made a crude joke. So when he said “it’s similar,” he meant the size? And asking what I thought—was that an invitation to measure for myself?
“Ah, you perverted bastard…”
The words slipped out before he could even think to filter them. Seung-hyeon pressed closer, as if embracing him, and laughed out loud. The thing pressed against him below was fully erect—there was no mistaking it—and yet the laughter by his ear was so light, so clear, it left Seon-woo stunned. And oddly enough… aroused.
Seung-hyeon’s hand, still touching him down there, showed no sign of backing off. Part of Seon-woo wanted to pull away right that instant. But another part didn’t.
So he decided to stop pretending.
Even with his erection pressed up against him, Gwak Seung-hyeon wasn’t begging to be touched. Instead, he was quietly tending to Seon-woo, and for some reason, that made Seon-woo feel strangely appreciative of him.
Sensing the tension easing from Seon-woo’s body, Seung-hyeon’s hand began to move faster. All the while, he kept his lower half flush against Seon-woo, lazily shifting his hips in the smallest increments. With only the robe between them, Seung-hyeon’s cock rubbed up against the curve of Seon-woo’s ass. And what startled him most was how the sensation was more stimulating than even what he felt from touching his own.
Seon-woo clenched his teeth, barely holding back the moan threatening to escape through the gaps.
Then Seung-hyeon leaned in, whispering right by his ear—his voice noticeably more heated than before.
“Ah, Director…”
And in that ridiculous moment, Seon-woo came.
“Ha…”
A sigh of shame slipped from his lips. Seung-hyeon cupped his hand under Seon-woo’s tip, keeping the cum from spilling onto the sheets. Even without looking, Seon-woo could picture his hand slick and dripping. He shut his eyes, hoping he could escape reality just for a moment.
Seung-hyeon didn’t withdraw his cum-slicked fingers from under the robe right away. Instead, his hand began to move again—slow, deliberate. There was no mistaking the intention behind it. Sensing what was about to happen next, Seon-woo’s eyes flew open.
His face might have paled a bit, but strangely, he didn’t feel an immediate urge to stop him.
And when Seung-hyeon’s fingers slipped past the folds of the robe and brushed between his ass—
<Your Gwanggong Score has decreased by 12!>
The system’s voice shattered the mood.
<Current Gwanggong Score: 51.>
Seon-woo felt his rational mind snap back into place. Seeing that the score had dropped just enough to stop short of triggering a status abnormality, he could guess what the system was trying to do. Any further, and it was clearly ready to slap him with a penalty.
And there was no point ignoring a warning like that. If the system dropped a debuff on him, there was no way the situation would unfold smoothly. With a frustrated sigh, Seon-woo muttered,
“Of all times…”
“What was that?”
“Let’s stop here.”
Seung-hyeon’s hand stopped instantly. Even without seeing his face, Seon-woo could tell he’d gone stiff. But he couldn’t take the words back now. With a deep sigh, guilt and regret tangled in his chest.
“…Stop?” Seung-hyeon repeated, as if trying to confirm what he’d just heard.
His voice wasn’t just confused—it was cold. Seon-woo mirrored the chill in his tone, forcing composure into his own voice.
“…Would asking again change anything?”
“You really want to stop? Right now?”
Seung-hyeon’s voice had dropped into a calm, low register. It was only then that Seon-woo turned his head to meet his gaze. And in complete contrast to that icy tone—his eyes were burning.
So much so that Seon-woo couldn’t look away.
