His hand slowly reached past the seatback Haewon was leaning on. Haewon nodded as he pressed kisses to Woojin’s chin and jaw.

"Promise me instead. That you’ll never cry again."

"...No. I’m going to make you suffer."

"It hurts, so don’t cry."

"...No. I’m going to hurt you."

Woojin’s lips and tongue pushed deep inside Haewon.

They drove for two straight hours and stopped at a rest area once. Then they drove another hour and finally arrived at the hotel built atop the seaside cliffs.

Only a few cars—likely belonging to construction workers—were sparsely parked, and both the lot and the hotel lobby were quiet. Around the hotel, a bike path stretched alongside the coastal road.

A sharp sound of metal being cut rang faintly from a distance. Temporary structures and screens were set up here and there, marking the final phase of construction.

They got out of the car and passed through the already open glass doors into the lobby.

Woojin walked straight up to the unmanned reception desk without hesitation, rummaged around for a bit, and returned with a card key.

"No staff?"

"The place is almost done, so everyone’s probably wrapping up the construction."

"You can just take one like that?"

"I called yesterday and told them to leave it there."

Haewon walked with Woojin toward the elevator.

Only the sound of their footsteps on the marble floor and the soft roll of the suitcase wheels echoed in the space. It felt desolate somehow. Haewon instinctively moved closer to Woojin, as if on alert.

"Someone investing in a place like this still needs to take out a loan for apartment renovations?"

"If you need it, you borrow it."

They stepped into the elevator as it arrived. Woojin pressed the top floor button.

"It feels weird. Like the world ended and we’re the only ones left."

The floor of the elevator was lined with dusty protective mats. The opposite side was made entirely of glass, giving them a full view of the ocean in the distance. The view was breathtaking.

Haewon gripped Woojin’s sleeve and looked outside. Just as the doors were about to close, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, and «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» someone slipped into the elevator.

"Oh? Prosecutor Hyun, what brings you here?"

The voice was full of surprise and confusion at the unexpected encounter. Woojin stiffened slightly as he saw who it was, but quickly returned to his usual expressionless face.

The man, much taller than average, was dressed in a crisp suit with a safety helmet on his head.

It was Lee Seok-jung, second son of the K-One Group. A member of the Bunker circle and another investor in this hotel.

"What about you? What are you doing here?"

"Our company was picked as the contractor, so I couldn’t just sit back and ignore it. The hotel’s almost done, so I came down to check it out. You’ve been busy lately—what brings you here? Inspecting the construction?"

He removed the helmet that clashed with his formal suit and turned to ask. Then his gaze landed on Haewon, who stood clutching Woojin’s sleeve like a lost child.

Seok-jung’s eyes sparkled with interest upon seeing Haewon’s face. He looked between Haewon and Woojin.

"What’s this? Who is he?"

"My cousin."

Woojin answered without pause. As if the script for this kind of situation had already been prepared in advance.

Haewon glanced at Woojin, who had just introduced him as his cousin.

"Ah... your cousin. Yeah, cousin."

Seok-jung smiled broadly. His gaze stayed fixed on Haewon with naked, persistent interest.

"What floor are you heading to?"

"Fifteen. The lighting work for the restaurant still isn’t finished."

He responded to Woojin’s question without taking his eyes off Haewon.

Woojin, who had been watching Seok-jung with irritation, pressed the button for him.

Maybe it was programmed that way, but the elevator moved slowly.

Haewon, feeling Seok-jung’s stare digging into him, turned away to look out at the sea.

Seok-jung’s eyebrow twitched.

There were visible marks all over the nape of Haewon’s neck—obviously from lips. His lips, having been sucked on for a long time in the car, were red and swollen. He looked worn out, on edge. Seok-jung knew that kind of aftermath all too well.

Seok-jung turned his gaze to Woojin.

"Your cousin’s really pretty."

"Yeah?"

As if checking for himself, Woojin turned to look at Haewon. Their eyes met—Haewon looked stunned.

"Yeah. He is pretty."

Woojin added that, calmly scanning Haewon’s face. At that, Seok-jung burst into loud laughter.

"Hahahaha! Man, our Woojin really is something else. Pretends like he's not interested, but he’s always making his moves behind the scenes. Says he’s too busy to even clean up after himself, and here he is, vacationing at a hotel. So you’re all better now?"

It was the first time anyone had ever mocked Woojin so openly to his face. Haewon studied Woojin’s reaction.

"I’m still on medication."

"Bet you thought no one would be here, huh? Too bad I was. What a shame, right?"

"Yeah, thought no one would be here, and yet—someone was."

Woojin let out a short laugh. The kind of laugh that dismissed anything petty or ridiculous without even pretending to listen. The corners of Seok-jung’s eyes creased.

"You’re up next, you know that, right? You’ve already been pushed back a few times. If you want to renew your membership, you have to pay your dues. Isn’t that right?"

"Of course. Better than someone who brings cheap crap with no effort."

The elevator stopped at the fifteenth floor. Woojin stepped back to let him out. Seok-jung smiled at Woojin, then looked at Haewon.

"See you again soon."

"..."

Even to the silent Haewon, he gave a deep smile before stepping out of the elevator. The noisy clatter of ongoing construction faded as the doors closed.

Haewon turned to the still-silent Woojin and asked:

"Who was that? One of those friends you said you meet regularly?"

"...Did I say that?"

Woojin couldn’t recall ever mentioning the Bunker to Haewon. Then—ah. He remembered. There had been a moment when he almost lost Haewon over a small lie. He decided to tell the truth now, but in an abstract way Haewon couldn’t possibly piece together. He hadn’t anticipated ever introducing Haewon to a Bunker member.

"You in debt or something? Renovating the apartment and all?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you couldn’t pay the fee."

"..."

"How much is it? Want me to pay it? Is it super expensive? Like a golf club membership? And what’s with the meds? What are you taking them for? Are you sick?"

"..."

The elevator, still moving slowly toward the suite floor at the top, finally came to a stop. The doors opened, and without a word, Woojin walked out ahead.

"Don’t fall behind on stuff like that. Things get weird between friends when someone’s always leaning."

Haewon said, thinking of how Seok-jung had mocked Woojin.

They didn’t seem like friends. Their chance meeting here didn’t seem pleasant. In fact, it looked like they didn’t even like each other.

Inserting the card key, Woojin opened the door and stared at Haewon.

"What?"

He didn’t answer the question of why he was staring—just kept looking. Then, the moment the door opened, he grabbed Haewon’s arm and pulled him inside without hesitation. Haewon’s back hit the closed door.

Before he could even protest being shoved, Woojin grabbed his face and kissed him like he meant to bite through his lips. Haewon swallowed the hot, surging tongue along with the spit. His throat bobbed.

After kissing for what felt like forever, Woojin pulled back, eyes locked on Haewon’s face.

"Haah, haah... You said you were good at holding back."

"Just wait a sec. I need to make a call."

Leaning against the wall where Woojin had pushed him, Haewon watched in dazed silence as the man opened the living room terrace door and stepped outside.

He’d known this would happen.

Even though Woojin had said he was on official leave, he was now beyond the glass wall, deep in a serious call with someone. As if afraid Haewon might make a run for it, he kept glancing back to check if he was still sitting blankly on the bed.

The suite—with a separate living room, bedroom, bathroom with a jacuzzi, guest room, and dressing room—was unlike any hotel suite Haewon had ever stayed in.

In the living room—which looked at least twice as wide as those in other hotel suites—there was a thick pole installed from ceiling to floor.

Was it meant for pole dancing?

Its purpose was unclear. Haewon touched the pole, which stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

He liked the hotel—the location, the room.

Since Woojin was the owner, he figured they’d be coming often. That was the plan. If he wanted to come here with Woojin, who was always using his busy schedule as an excuse, he figured he’d finally have to get that driver’s license he’d been putting off. He couldn’t keep making Woojin drive the entire two-to-three-hour journey by himself.

Woojin barely had enough time to sleep as it was. If Haewon could drive, Woojin could work or sleep during the trip—use the travel time more efficiently. But that was only possible if Haewon learned to drive.

Woojin had nagged him about it, saying taxis were dangerous and that he should just get the license. He even said he’d buy him a car—despite being a public official.

It wasn’t because Haewon couldn’t afford a car that he didn’t have a license. He’d never felt it was necessary to know how to drive to live. There were more than enough people who could drive—why should he put in that kind of labor?

But now, it wasn’t for himself. He thought, for the first time, that he should get a license—for Woojin.

"Sorry. That took a while, huh?"

Still fiddling with the pole, Haewon turned his head at the voice behind him.

"Did something happen? Do you have to go?"

"No, it’s nothing urgent."

"Then it’s fine. I’m okay."

"Want a bath? The view here is incredible."

Woojin gripped Haewon’s hand roughly, pulling it away from the pole as if to snatch it off. Haewon followed him across the living room to the bathroom.

Inside the jacuzzi bathtub overlooking the sea, they spent time that couldn’t clearly be called a bath or foreplay—just a tangled mess of bodies. They left the bathroom flushed and warm.

Tying the belt of his bathrobe, Haewon approached Woojin, who had come out first and was standing by the bedroom window as if checking something.

Unlike the living room windows that looked out over the sea, the view from where Woojin stood only showed the hotel parking lot.

Haewon, trailing his eyes over Woojin’s back, which was wrapped in only a towel around his waist, suddenly wrapped his arms around his torso. He pressed his lips to the protruding shoulder blades and rubbed against them.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Want some wine?"

"You have wine here? The place isn’t even open yet."

"I asked the manager yesterday."

"How bold of you. And here I thought you were just a civil servant."

"Even a civil servant wants to bathe in the tub with his lover. And drink wine, too."

As he turned toward the bar to get the wine, Haewon rubbed his cheek against his back to stop him. Don’t go—he just wanted to stay like this.

Woojin’s firm, broad back rose and fell steadily with each breath he took, and Haewon matched his breathing to that rhythm—deep and slow.

Droplets clung to the ends of Woojin’s damp hair, dripping down his nape and shoulders, running across Haewon’s cheek.

It was weird, trying to set the mood while looking out over a parking lot instead of the sea, but the place didn’t matter.

Haewon thought of the cruel things he’d said last night.

That he didn’t think he could love for long, maybe a year or two at most. That he’d just say all the same hurtful things Woojin had once said, to return the pain.

But Woojin hadn’t reacted much. Hadn’t seemed bothered at all.

If he had argued back, Haewon had been ready to push through with: I didn’t mean it. I just blurted it out. Didn’t you also say horrible things to me? He’d braced himself for a fight.

Woojin was strange like that. He wasn’t normal.

If he liked someone, if he wanted something, he could’ve just said so. But instead, he’d act cold and manipulative, just to make sure Haewon fell into line. It was his way of trying to fix Haewon’s “bad habits.”

With his face pressed against Woojin’s back and his arms wrapped around his waist, Haewon tried to remember when Woojin had last been cold to him.

He’d been especially cold when he said they should break up.

Even after the breakup, he stayed cold. But when Haewon came crawling back, Woojin had taken him in with a “thank you for coming,” like he’d been waiting.

Was he faking it back then too?

Did he say he wanted to break up, not because he meant it, but to discipline him, knowing it would scare him?

"...Back when you said you wanted to break up with me—did you mean it?"

"What?"

Woojin, lost in thought, hadn’t caught the question and looked down at Haewon hanging on his back.

"When you said you wanted to end things—when we broke up—did you really mean it?"

"Why are you asking that now?"

"You said last night you didn’t mean it. That you were being mean on purpose because I wasn’t listening to you."

"You only listen when I do that. You were born without the ability to listen to anyone. Offer you bread and you’ll sleep with anyone. You piss people off."

"So you were doing that on purpose back then, too? Just to punish me?"

"That time, I meant it."

Woojin replied without a moment of hesitation. His voice was as firm as the look in his eyes—if it happened again, he’d mean it again.

"I didn’t want to deal with that kind of fatigue just to keep seeing you."

"Then why’d you take me back?"

"Because not seeing you was even more exhausting. That was harder."

"..."

"And I missed you."

He missed him.

All to himself, and only to himself.

That was why Woojin was determined to keep Haewon under his control.

It was the same reason he’d sabotaged Haewon’s opportunity to work with that famous composer.

He didn’t want anyone else to see Haewon—not ever.

Especially not Haewon with a violin in his hands. That, he didn’t want to share with anyone. He could tolerate Haewon sitting at the far end of the second violin section, under dim lights in the orchestra—but nothing more.

He hated the idea of anyone noticing him, giving him chances.

Haewon had to be seen by him, heard by him, and possessed by Woojin alone.

Haewon was something Woojin had to monopolize completely, and he had worked relentlessly to make it so.

Since being diagnosed in childhood with antisocial personality disorder, and being abandoned by his father, Woojin had lived with a sense of desperation. He had to achieve something—to prove he wasn’t defective.

His academic performance, his deliberately broad social network—every area of his life had surpassed that of his brothers. But their father only favored the older and younger sons. Not once did he praise Woojin, whose need for recognition was more severe than anyone’s.

From then on, Woojin developed a pattern: when he set a goal, he would achieve it no matter the cost. If he didn’t get the result he wanted, he believed he was inferior to his siblings, and it tormented him.

He acknowledged that his obsession sometimes crossed the line. And he knew that more and more of that obsession now centered around Haewon.

It was a critical moment. But Woojin had canceled appointments. Rescheduled things. Because it wasn’t Haewon who gave up his career out of fear of exposure—it was Woojin.

He recalled the way Lee Seok-jung had stared at Haewon’s every detail.

Seok-jung was just as possessive a man. He’d grown up in an environment where getting what he wanted was natural. When he didn’t get it, he didn’t give up—he questioned why.

"Why are you smiling?"

Haewon asked Woojin, who turned toward him with a faint grin.

Woojin untied the towel from around his waist. The damp cloth dropped with a soft thud at his feet. His fully naked back stood illuminated by the window overlooking the distant parking lot.

Haewon involuntarily took a step back. Woojin advanced a step—and Haewon recoiled another.

"A little while ago, I added a sixth entry to my list."

"Take Six?"

Haewon stepped back again. Woojin closed the distance, still maintaining that perilous gap between them. Something soft brushed against Haewon’s calf.

It was the fresh, untouched bedding—no one had lain in it yet.

"Yeah. Take Six."

"So you found something more important than me? I was number five, right? You said you always rank important things."

"No, it’s not that. It’s a list of things I want to capture and crush. If I don’t, I can’t sleep at night."

Woojin shortened his stride. Every time he moved, his fully erect cock bobbed with a clear tilt, swaying even though he hadn’t touched it.

Haewon’s throat bobbed.

Light seemed to shatter over Woojin’s bare shoulders. Even naked, he didn’t look disheveled. He looked composed—intelligent, striking.

He closed the distance completely. There was no room left to back away. Stumbling slightly, Haewon collapsed onto the edge of the bed.