Haewon looked up at him. Woojin’s hand brushed his hair back to reveal his face more clearly, gazing down at him steadily. The matte black of his eyes, like a dark forest, didn’t threaten or coerce—they gently stroked his cheek, calming Haewon, whose body had stiffened from tension.

"Will you help me sleep?"

Haewon, staring up at him with dazed, wet eyes, slowly lowered his gaze. Filling his entire field of vision was the space between a public official’s legs.

"For someone who says he wants to sleep... you’ve got something obscene hanging between your legs. And you’re a civil servant—what happened to keeping up appearances...? This country’s a mess."

Haewon placed his hand on Woojin’s thigh. Woojin wrapped his fingers around his erect cock, bringing the tip, slick with pre-cum, to Haewon’s lips.

He pressed the heated tip to Haewon’s plump, flushed lips, smearing it thickly. Every time Haewon moved, the sticky fluid squelched against his lips.

Haewon gripped Woojin’s legs and buried his face in the groin that smelled like the same soap as him, opening his mouth.

Woojin didn’t force him. He didn’t shove or hold the back of his head.

He simply let Haewon do as he pleased, accepting the affection quietly. When Haewon sucked at the protruding head of his cock, tightening his lips and letting it pop free, Woojin came across Haewon’s face. The warm, heavy fluid spattered his eyes and dripped down his cheeks.

Woojin laid Haewon down on the bed, his hands frantic with arousal as he undressed him. Haewon’s bare body sprawled over the clean white sheets was more breathtaking than any ocean view.

When Woojin just stared from a slight distance, Haewon reached out and pulled his wrist. Woojin lay beside him. Haewon scooted close. Their bare legs tangled together, the soft friction quickly making Woojin’s post-orgasmic cock stir to hardness again.

Woojin threaded his legs with Haewon’s and pulled him in tight. Their flushed hips brushed slightly against each other.

"Still not sleepy?"

"Not yet."

At Haewon’s suggestive question, Woojin smiled and shook his head.

He deliberately shifted his lower body, slowly grinding. Haewon pretended not to notice. The sensitive flesh brushed distinctly, clearly revealing the shape and direction of his growing erection.

Haewon lifted his moist eyes toward him, trembling, face flushed and breathing hard.

"...Why is a civil servant this dirty?"

"Thanks to someone. I used to be a total prude."

"Liar."

"It’s true. I had no interest in stuff like this. I thought sex was the dumbest, most boring thing in the world."

It was the truth. Sexual desire had always ranked dead last among his needs, and he’d always /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ despised this savage impulse that clouded reason and triggered rash behavior.

He hadn’t cared about releasing it. He dealt with it as a bodily function, nothing more. No interest. No taste for it. He looked down on people who obsessed over it or let it control them.

But with Haewon, it was different. He enjoyed it. The way they constantly tuned into each other, every breath shallow with tension, the way they carefully explored each other's pleasure from the ground up—it all aroused Woojin deeply.

Haewon’s eyes shimmered, wet and wide, as he looked at him.

Woojin tightened the arm around Haewon’s waist, pulling him down with full weight. Haewon grabbed at his shoulders, trying to push him away in a panic.

Their skin touched. They fully pressed together, soft and warm, colliding messily.

Lying back against the bed, Woojin pulled Haewon up to sit on top of his lower body.

"Ah..."

Their hips pressed together, and Haewon tried to lift his torso. But Woojin’s firm arms locked him in place.

There was no need to rush to climax. He hadn’t taken this vacation to just fuck. But his purpose had shifted, and Woojin was now completely focused.

Trying not to be swept away, Haewon planted one hand on Woojin’s chest and gripped the bedding with the other.

"It feels weird..."

His sensitive skin flinched against the scratch of pubic hair, rubbing sharply and painfully. When Haewon squirmed, Woojin’s arm tightened, pinning his hips. He couldn’t move an inch. Heat simmered up from their contact, a low burn that made Haewon’s vision swim. It tickled, it hurt, it humiliated—it made his stomach twist in strange ways.

Haewon slowly rolled his hips atop him. He pressed down hard, grinding with his groin tightly aligned against Woojin’s. As his body pushed back and forth, Woojin released his hold and reached down, gripping Haewon’s pelvis in both hands.

Haewon stared down at him in a daze, then leaned in. Hot breath spilled between his parted lips. Woojin tilted his head, meeting him in a kiss, panting softly. As he pulled Haewon’s hips down, then up again, he asked:

"Haah... You’ve done this kind of thing a lot before, haven’t you?"

"...What the fuck are you saying?"

"You’ve stripped plenty in front of other guys."

"You—are you really... saying that right now, ah...!"

"Then what, haah, what did you do with the others?"

Haewon bit his lip, trying to hold back a moan. But Woojin wasn’t just speaking to provoke—he meant it. As if demanding an answer, he thrust his hips upward.

"What did you do with them?"

"Nothing... just, just... ahh!"

The friction grew faster, more intense. Their once-dry skin now glistened with heat and moisture, and the grinding became stickier, more raw.

"Did you turn the others on like this too?"

"I—this kind of thing... I don’t like this..."

"You don’t?"

"I don’t, I don’t...!"

Whether it was the touch itself or the line of questioning that disturbed him, Haewon turned his head away, unable to meet his eyes. Woojin thrust up hard. Their bodies collided sharply.

"Haah, answer me. I don’t even make your top five?"

"Ugh—no! No, aah...!"

Haewon’s lips trembled with moans that threatened to spill over as he shook his head.

Woojin slammed their lower bodies together, messy and rough, without rhythm or restraint. It was interrogation—punishment.

"You’ve never played with anyone for over a week? Haah, Haewon. Am I worse than a toy?"

"Ah—Woojin, hyung, no, no, I’m sorry... aah, ahhh..."

Haewon leaned his head into Woojin’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, mouth opening wide. He sucked Woojin in, tangled their tongues, and swallowed his breath—pleading with him to stop the questioning.

Woojin flipped Haewon beneath him and climbed on top, straddling him with speed. His face, now fully consumed, pushed down hard. The scream caught in Haewon’s mouth burst against Woojin’s lips.

"Mmph, nnngh!"

Woojin grabbed his twitching hips and ground them together, powerfully and rough. Haewon’s skin spasmed with each thrust.

Their lips parted. A thick string of spit hung between them.

"Haah, you were wrong, weren’t you?"

"I was wrong. I was wrong, hyung, Woojin hyung, I... ahhh, I was wrong..."

Tears welled in Haewon’s eyes as he begged. The wet tracks ran down his temples. Woojin licked them away as he slammed his hips down. The bed creaked violently.

"Ahhng, ngh, aah... ah!"

Haewon’s body convulsed as he came. Woojin’s frantic pace halted for a moment.

"Ugh... ngh."

He released hot, sticky cum across Haewon’s pelvis. Veins bulged in Woojin’s clenched forehead, his abdominal muscles sharpening into ridges with exertion.

"Haah, haah..."

His breath poured out, hot and fast.

Then Woojin pushed his still-hard cock deep into Haewon’s perineum. Haewon’s moan, muffled by Woojin’s lips, cracked as his hips bucked sharply again. His legs spread wide.

Haewon’s inner thighs trembled, too weak to hold. Woojin thrust into him relentlessly.

Pinned and shaken by Woojin’s body, Haewon sobbed apologies. He wouldn’t say it again. Woojin did make his top five. He took back the toy comment. He gave Woojin every answer he wanted, one by one, to satisfy his relentless questions—but Woojin didn’t look like he was planning to stop. Limp, Haewon could only collapse and shudder with the rhythm of Woojin’s movements.

Even though there was nothing more to come, nothing more to feel, Haewon’s spine arched as if being constricted, his body going rigid. He dug his nails into Woojin’s shoulders so hard they could pierce, trembling uncontrollably. A pleasure that seemed to brace his entire spine shot through him. A groaning moan spilled from between his lips.

Only after making Haewon climax twice did Woojin finally fall asleep.

Haewon, who had been blankly staring up at the ceiling, turned his eyes toward Woojin, whose breathing now flowed evenly, chest partially draped over his own.

Despite having devoured him so thoroughly, Woojin’s face—fatigued and tense, black hair messy over his furrowed brow—looked like he still hadn’t been satisfied, like something inside him remained unfilled.

Their ragged breathing had calmed, and the hotel room was now quiet.

The sun was setting outside the window. The earlier blazing red light had softened into a dusk-colored orange. Even the clouds were stained the same shade. The crimson afterglow gradually turned to gray, and soon, darkness began to settle outside. The sea shimmered faintly in the distance, rippling with the tide.

Woojin’s steady breath brushed Haewon’s chest. The feeling of being held by someone slowly wrapped around him. It wasn’t tender. He was simply lying there, limbs slack and draped over him—but it didn’t feel bad.

Haewon turned and kissed the cheek of the man who didn’t know the first thing about gentleness.

In the darkened night sky, stars scattered like faint grains of sand, pale and glimmering. Even with Woojin’s even breathing beside him, Haewon found he couldn’t fall asleep.

Their legs were still tangled together on the bed. Haewon pushed Woojin’s weight off his upper body with shaking hands and slowly untangled their legs.

It felt like breaking free from a spiderweb that had bound his limbs too tightly for him to move. Haewon escaped him and lowered his trembling legs to the floor, picking up his clothes and dressing himself.

Aside from the wine, it seemed the hotel manager hadn’t prepared anything else. The minibar didn’t have even a chocolate bar or peanuts—no snacks at all.

He was hungry. After staring for a long moment at Woojin’s bare back, deep in sleep with no sign of waking, Haewon grabbed the card key and left the suite.

The hotel, still under construction, showed no other signs of life. Fortunately, the hallway lights were on, and the elevator worked.

A feeling like he’d been abandoned alone in a strange place.

He’d felt this eerie sensation before. As the elevator descended to the lobby, Haewon remembered—the same feeling had come over him at Chairman Kim Jung-geun’s villa in Yangpyeong.

A forest deep and dark like Woojin’s eyes—so vast and disorienting that if you got lost inside, no one would ever find you again.

In the middle of the garden stood a charred stump, scorched black, grotesquely left behind.

The strange, sinister atmosphere of that place came flooding back as he gazed out through the elevator’s glass wall at the black sea below.

Maybe it was because the hotel, which should have been bustling with people, was completely empty.

He felt like the second victim in a horror movie. Haewon rubbed his goosebumped arms with his palms.

He remembered passing a convenience store on the way to the hotel. If he walked a bit, he’d probably find it.

Haewon, thinking the distance wouldn’t be too bad, began walking—but suddenly stopped.

His eyes had locked on something in the far corner of the lobby, where some construction screens still stood.

He slowly walked toward it.

He’d seen it before—somewhere.

"Ah."

The sculpture in front of him was one of the pieces from the photos Taeshin had sent him.

That day, Taeshin had called Haewon ten times.

He’d even called right before he jumped.

As always, Haewon didn’t answer. He hadn’t even known the calls came in.

That friend—if he could even call him that—who had ended his life by jumping, had sent him one last record. The gesture had felt so pitiful, so repulsive, that Haewon hadn’t even looked at it. He tossed it aside somewhere and eventually threw it away like trash.

In the photo from that day, Taeshin had stood beside this sculpture, smiling awkwardly.

Someone had said that Taeshin’s work might have been used to launder slush funds, that he’d fallen in with bad company, and that, dragged into something too big to handle, he’d been scared and taken his own life...

It had been Prosecutor Hyun Woojin who said that he was assigned to investigate Taeshin’s death.

And now, the object Haewon had seen in that photo was standing right before him—in the far corner of the hotel lobby Woojin was supposedly investing in.

While Haewon was staring blankly at Taeshin’s sculpture, someone stepped up beside him.

It took a while for Haewon to register the presence standing next to him. When he finally turned his head, he saw it was Woojin’s friend—the one who had neither liked Woojin nor hidden his mockery.

"Impressive, right? I bought it for a pretty hefty price. I like it. Originally, I was going to place it near the entrance, but I moved it here. It’ll look even better once we install recessed lighting behind it."

He tilted his head, as if comparing Taeshin’s sculpture to the painting on the hotel wall.

They had said Taeshin had been roped into something he couldn’t control. That a chaebol heir had purchased two of his sculptures at a high price and might have used them to launder illicit funds. That he had gotten scared as the situation spiraled beyond him and took his life in fear. Woojin had said he’d investigated every possible lead, every hypothesis, but in the end, no one could figure out why Taeshin had really died.

That “bad friend,” the one who had bought Taeshin’s work for a hefty sum—he was the one standing next to Haewon now, gazing at the piece as if admiring it.

And that “bad friend’s” friend was the man now lying in deep sleep in the suite after an intense round of sex. A man Haewon spent every day with, yet somehow this stranger knew Woojin was taking medication. They were close enough to co-invest in a luxury hotel together, spending massive sums.

"Do you know Taeshin?"

Haewon asked him.

The man turned his gaze from the sculpture. His eyes landed on Haewon—and didn’t look away again.

Lee Seok-jung stared straight at Haewon.

With the same eyes he had used to study the sculpture.

"Taeshin? Who’s that?"

"The sculptor. The one who made this."

"Ah, so his name was Taeshin. The one who committed suicide, right?"

"...How do you know he committed suicide?"

"Woojin told me. That kid was cute."

"You met him? You knew Taeshin?"

"Yeah, I met him. This kind of thing isn’t cheap. Normally, you want to see the artist before buying. I don’t just buy anything, you know."

He laughed lightly as he said it. A smile that left a bitter taste. Haewon subtly furrowed his brow and turned away.

"And what about Woojin? Your cousin—what’s he doing, leaving you here alone?"

"He’s on the phone."

"Busy guy, isn’t he? For just some low-ranking prosecutor."

Seok-jung shook his head. The way he had spoken to Woojin in the elevator, with that thinly veiled mockery—Haewon hadn’t imagined it. The man clearly harbored no goodwill toward Woojin.

"What’s your name, cousin?"

He asked, voice polite now.

Haewon said nothing, pulling his eyes away from Taeshin’s sculpture and turning around.

As he walked across the lobby toward the exit, the man followed him.

"Where are you going?"

"The convenience store. Call me a taxi."

Haewon spoke like a guest making a request of hotel staff. The man laughed in disbelief.

"Even if I call a cab, it’ll take thirty minutes at least. No one’s coming all the way out here just for a convenience store run. Didn’t bring your car? Or don’t know how to drive? Are there still people who can’t drive these days?"

"There are drivers everywhere—why should I drive? If I sit still, someone always takes me where I need to go."

"Aha, finally someone who gets it. That’s what I’m saying. I hate driving too. But no one ever seems to understand. I mean, if you’ve got a driver, it’s way easier, right? Just sit back and let them take you."

He replied as if he fully understood. When Haewon didn’t stop walking, he matched his pace and continued beside him.

"But you know, those drivers have loose lips. They go around running their mouths, saying things they shouldn’t. So I end up having to drive myself."

Mimicking a blabbering mouth with his hand, he made a face of disgust.

Haewon pushed through the glass doors and stopped at a spot where the black, wave-crashing sea was visible in the distance.

The black sea... the black forest.

Lonely and frightening, yet so strangely attractive—just like Woojin.

"Want me to be your driver then? The convenience store’s not far."

"..."

"It’d take an hour on foot. Ten minutes by car."

"Where’s your car?"

"Wait here. I’ll bring it around."