“Why are you such a good kisser? It’s making me jealous.”
“I’m not exactly young, you know.”
“Right, you’re practically a hundred-year-old grandpa.”
“…Let’s not talk about age.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t you be grateful you even get the chance to strip and devour a fresh young guy sixty years younger than you?”
Kim Sibaek instantly regretted bringing up age and slapped a hand over his own mouth to stop himself from digging deeper.
Tae Woon, who’d been nibbling at Sibaek’s lower lip, trailed his kisses downward. His mouth moved slowly, deliberately—past the chin, across the jawline, and down to the base of the neck—leaving wet, smacking sounds in his wake. Unlike last night, when he’d just buried his face and inhaled Sibaek’s scent, this time the touch was soft, sticky, and sensually deliberate.
The feel of his tongue dragging along the nape of his neck made Sibaek giggle involuntarily. The kid was already clingy, and now he was rubbing his head against him like an oversized puppy. The way his silky hair brushed over Sibaek’s flushed skin was both gentle and unsettling, like a warning of what was to come.
“Ah!”
Without warning, Tae Woon parted his lips and bit down hard on Sibaek’s Adam’s apple. His mouth wrapped around the thick, rounded curve, and he gnawed at it like he meant to leave a mark. The sharp jolt made Sibaek’s back arch instinctively.
He threw his head back with a groan, stumbling under Tae Woon’s weight. Something caught at the back of his knees, and he collapsed with a thud—only realizing after the fact that he’d tripped over the massage chair. The fall helped clear his head a little. This was work. They were in the break room. Anyone could walk in.
“Okay, that’s enough. The Head of Research is probably waiting, and you should go home and rest.”
“……”
“Woonie?”
“Yes?”
Tae Woon didn’t even flinch when Sibaek fell. He just kept sucking at his neck like nothing happened, and only lifted his head when called again. Sibaek stiffened. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, caught up in the kissing—but Tae Woon’s eyes were completely glazed over.
Every instinct in Sibaek’s body screamed: Danger. This is dangerous.
He tried to push him off in a hurry, but Tae Woon’s rock-solid shoulders didn’t budge. Instead, a gloved hand slipped beneath his sweater, fingers creeping upward with slow, deliberate intent.
“Wait, wait. Woonie, calm down. We’re in the office, remember?”
“I own this building. Paid in full, no loans. I can do whatever I want here.”
“What if someone walks in?!”
“Let them. I’ve got a big dick. Don’t care. And you’ve got one too, so nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I never raised you to be such a—ugh!”
‘I never raised you to be such a damn pervert,’ was what he meant to say, but it got swallowed up in a groan as Tae Woon sucked harshly at his collarbone.
A red mark bloomed instantly against Sibaek’s pale skin, and Tae Woon gave a satisfied little kiss over it.
“When I’m around, don’t even think about seeing other women… I’m the only one allowed to leave marks on your skin. Got it?”
“Okay, okay, I get it, just… not now…”
Sure, if he really tried, Sibaek could probably shove him off. But if they stumbled and fell in the process, things could go sideways fast. Tae Woon had been sick for days—fragile and weak. One wrong move and he could get seriously hurt.
Kim Sibaek had raised him with care, afraid that even a harsh wind might break him. Even now, those thick, muscular arms pulling taut against his dress shirt looked as delicate as reeds about to snap.
He tried pushing again—gently—desperate not to hurt him, and his hand slipped. It landed on the massage chair’s remote, pressing the power button.
Whrrrrrrr. The chair started vibrating, rumbling up from beneath.
Tae Woon’s eyes stayed dazed, but he lit up with a bright grin.
“Whoa, hyung. This thing vibrates like a cheap love motel bed. Amazing.”
“It’s a massage chair in the break room!”
“If you can fuck or get fucked on it, even a public restroom’s a bed.”
Wait… a public restroom? That perverted line sounded all too familiar.
“Wanna fuck here? I’m totally into outdoor play.”
Why the hell was that coming back to him now?
Kim Sibaek shuddered. He had to draw a line. If he let this go again, Tae Woon would just keep pushing.
“Keep this up and I will get mad.”
He lowered his voice, putting force behind his words. Finally, Tae Woon’s eyes sharpened a little, coming back into focus.
“Jumping on me like this right after a kiss already caught me off guard. But we’re at work, and that makes it worse. So take a breath, cool your head. Okay?”
He tried to reason with him—calm, firm. But pampered, stubborn Tae Woon wasn’t the type to listen.
“You’re hard too, though.”
Tae Woon leaned in closer, practically pinning Sibaek down. The bulge in his pants rubbed hard against Sibaek’s own, the friction sending electric jolts down his spine.
Still kissing along his neck, Tae Woon sucked Sibaek’s earlobe into his mouth. His hot breath tickled as he whispered against his skin, and when his tongue slid along the curve of his ear, a jolt of pleasure made Sibaek tremble. A groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it.
This was bad. Really bad. If this went on, he’d lose control. At home? Maybe. But not here—not at work.
But if he tried to forcefully stop him and Tae Woon ended up with a bruise or, God forbid, a broken bone—he’d never forgive himself.
Which meant… it was time for his last resort.
Just as Kim Sibaek resolved to lift Tae Woon into a bridal carry and separate them for good, the break room door burst open with a loud slam.
“Hyung! There’s writing—like, floating in the air!”
Lee Hangyeol’s voice echoed through the room, high with panic.
[Death and Beauty proclaims that the sibling of My Apostle has read the Divine Words.]
“‘Death and Beauty’—wait, is that the one you mentioned before?!”
[Death and Beauty proclaims that the sibling of My Apostle—]
Lee Hangyeol’s eyes went wide in horror. Lord Biendeoé’s beak hung open. Together, they bore witness to a scene that could never be unseen.
Kim Sibaek and Tae Woon were tangled together on the floor, limbs entwined on top of a violently vibrating massage chair—like something straight out of a sleazy love motel.
Had it ended there, they might’ve salvaged their sanity with a flimsy joke like, “Haha, wow! You guys are so close you even share the massage chair! ^^” But no—Sibaek’s sweater was pushed up to his chest, and Tae Woon’s hand was unmistakably exploring bare skin underneath.
“……”
Lee Hangyeol stood frozen, eyes still wide, then slowly—creeeak—closed the door. The small, stunned face of the baby crow disappeared behind it, full of betrayal and trauma, like a child catching their parents in the act.
Mortified, his face flushed scarlet all the way to the neck, Kim Sibaek finally hoisted Tae Woon up in a bridal carry and moved him away. Tae Woon, perhaps caught off guard by the interruption, went along quietly for once.
***
“She’s the Incarnate Body of the god I serve.”
Lee Hangyeol kept turning those words over in his head as he picked up the baby crow.
According to Sibaek, the source of his strength was belief—power born of faith.
Hangyeol had no religion. If Tae Woon had been religious, he might’ve tagged along out of curiosity and ended up believing too, but neither of them followed anything. Not that he was an atheist or skeptic—faith simply hadn’t factored into his world. Back when he was eleven, all he’d cared about was surviving the monsters.
And survival didn’t discriminate. Believers and non-believers lived and died alike.
But Kim Sibaek’s faith clearly worked. Tangibly. And Tae Woon trusted him—maybe more than anyone else, even the others from Somang Orphanage.
So if this guy—no, this Incarnate Body—is the real deal… does believing in her count as faith already?
His reasons were deeply personal. But then, most faith begins that way. Small desires, hopes, and longings are what keep people going. The god of Mak Slechth, Heegu, welcomed those human imperfections.
“……”
Biendeoé, still a novice among gods, noticed the change in Hangyeol’s gaze—but merely stared back in silence.
She hadn’t intended to steal a follower in someone else’s territory. Speaking the Divine Words was more of a habit than anything else.
[Death and Beauty says that no matter how long you stare, nothing about Me will change.]
“Wha—what the hell?!”
But he’d read it.
With a strangled shout, Lee Hangyeol leapt out of his chair. And just like that, the first disciple of Death and Beauty was born on Earth.
Eventually, Kim Sibaek managed to drag both the flustered god and the panicking disciple back to the break room.
“H-H-Hyung, uh… please, feel free to continue whatever you were doing.”
Kim Sibaek’s face flushed all over again. Before he could even beg them to forget what they’d seen, Tae Woon cut in with an oddly cold voice.
“You’d better get used to it. You’re going to see worse.”
“……?!”
Worse than being caught mid-make-out on a vibrating chair in broad daylight? What kind of madness was this?
Sibaek, horrified, slapped a hand over Tae Woon’s mouth before he could say another word. Hangyeol’s pupils quivered like they were about to shatter.
“D-Didn’t you say she’s the Incarnate Body of a god? Can you really handle her like that?”
[Death and Beauty responds: If it brings peace to My Apostle’s heart, your god will endure the suffering.]
“GAAH! More writing!”
“Please remain calm.”
[Death and Beauty warns: If you don’t get used to this, I won’t send any more messages.]
“Urrrgh…”
As chaos erupted around the Divine Words, Tae Woon—completely unable to see any of it—narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being left out of the fun.
