Chapter 79

Gi-hyeon quietly stared out the car window.

The rural road, sparsely lit by streetlamps, was desolate and pitch black. Perhaps it was a small mercy that, being summer, the surroundings were still faintly discernible even as 9 PM approached.

Resting his chin on his hand, elbow propped against the window frame, Gi-hyeon watched the GPS trace a silent, straight line before finally speaking.

“We could have just done it at the house. Why go through this trouble?”

“…”

Yeon-oh didn’t answer the question of why they needed a new location. When Gi-hyeon had offered to sleep with him, Yeon-oh had instantly agreed, and Gi-hyeon just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Yeon-oh had simply stared at him before declaring,

“…We can’t do it here.”

Though Yeon-oh had no memory of it, this wouldn’t be their first sexual encounter. Therefore, Gi-hyeon couldn’t comprehend Yeon-oh’s stubborn insistence on changing venues, but he didn’t bother arguing. Gi-hyeon had exactly one reason for sleeping with Jo Yeon-oh: to force him to accept their end. Letting the bastard have exactly what he wanted seemed like the only way to eradicate any lingering regrets.

Consequently, when Yeon-oh suggested heading to the nearest hotel, Gi-hyeon stood up without a word of complaint. Staring at him, Yeon-oh began packing a bag for Gi-hyeon. Even as he packed underwear and various other necessities, Gi-hyeon offered no resistance.

The “nearest hotel” turned out to be a four-star establishment in Mokpo, overlooking the ocean near the heavy industry zone. Failing to see the logic in driving all the way out there, Gi-hyeon silently followed Yeon-oh, who carried the duffel bag out of the apartment.

The hotel was eerily quiet.

Given its nature as a family-oriented tourist destination, the lobby was completely deserted even though it wasn’t quite 10 PM yet. Turning his back on Yeon-oh as he handled the check-in process, Gi-hyeon stared blankly at the marble patterns decorating the lobby wall.

“Head up first,” Yeon-oh suddenly murmured against Gi-hyeon’s back. He extended a key card.

“Going for a smoke?” Gi-hyeon asked, reaching for the plastic.

Yeon-oh abruptly pinched the card tightly between his thumb and forefinger, as if reluctant to hand it over, and raised a single eyebrow. “You think I’d suck on a cigarette with a pregnant person next to me? I quit ages ago. Don’t spout bullshit.”

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Yeon-oh smoke once since he arrived in the countryside. Well, maybe just once. On the day Yeon-oh unexpectedly tracked him down, Gi-hyeon had caught the faint scent of tobacco at the hospital. But that was a singular occurrence; he hadn’t smelled smoke or seen the bastard light up since.

Clicking his tongue at Gi-hyeon’s silent contemplation, Yeon-oh turned on his heel and headed toward the entrance. Gi-hyeon stepped into an elevator that had just arrived on the ground floor. The absence of a key-card security system for selecting floors suggested the hotel was quite old. Briefly recalling childhood family vacations before his mother passed away, Gi-hyeon pressed the button for the floor printed on the card.

During the peak summer tourist season, finding a last-minute vacancy should have been impossible, making the word “Suite” printed on the key card somewhat surprising. Then again, there was zero chance a spoiled chaebol heir like Yeon-oh would ever settle for a standard room.

Feeling a wave of mild exhaustion wash over him, Gi-hyeon entered the suite and headed straight for the bathroom.

He stared absently at the bathtub for a moment before shaking his head and twisting the shower handle. After finishing his shower, he realized a bathrobe was his only clothing option. He had no idea what Yeon-oh had packed in the duffel bag, but it was sitting out in the car anyway.

Towel-drying his hair, Gi-hyeon opened the wardrobe and slipped into one of the provided bathrobes. Just as he was tightening the sash around his waist, the electronic lock chimed.

Gi-hyeon turned around.

Standing under the motion-sensor light near the entrance, Yeon-oh stared at him quietly, clutching a paper bag from a drugstore.

“What did you buy?” Gi-hyeon asked, genuinely curious about where he had vanished to at this hour.

Without a word, Yeon-oh brushed past him, depositing the paper bag and the duffel on the table. He grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, flapping it to fan himself. When Gi-hyeon suggested lowering the AC if he was hot, Yeon-oh offered no response, simply marching past him and disappearing into the bathroom.

Tossing his damp towel carelessly onto the table, Gi-hyeon retreated into the bedroom and lay down on the mattress. He felt deeply, inexplicably exhausted despite doing absolutely nothing. The faint sound of water splashing in the bathroom lulled him; he blinked a few times before letting his heavy eyelids slide shut.

It felt as though mere seconds had passed when the sudden shock of cold moisture against his ankle violently jolted him awake. One of his legs was hoisted into the air. Standing beside the bed, Yeon-oh was slowly, methodically massaging Gi-hyeon’s ankle with his thumb. Reacting to the sluggish, deliberate pressure against his ankle bone, Gi-hyeon shot up, causing the front of his robe to fall open. Paranoia that he was entirely exposed flashed through his mind. Just as he reached down to yank the edges of the fabric tight across his inner thighs, Yeon-oh spoke.

“Don’t cover it up. Just leave it.”

“What?” Gi-hyeon asked, failing to comprehend the command.

But Yeon-oh simply continued rubbing the ankle bone in slow circles, eventually using both hands to firmly knead Gi-hyeon’s Achilles tendon with his thumbs.

“Ah…”

Given how badly his feet had been swelling lately, the deep tissue massage felt so incredibly relieving that a breathy moan slipped out involuntarily. Embarrassed, Gi-hyeon threw Yeon-oh a sidelong glance.

Sporting a towel draped over his head exactly as Gi-hyeon had earlier, Yeon-oh’s wet bangs hung heavily across his forehead. It was a domestic sight Gi-hyeon had grown accustomed to over the past few days. Yet, watching a single bead of water slide down the bridge of Yeon-oh’s nose and drip onto his chest evoked a bizarre, twisting sensation in Gi-hyeon’s gut.

The front of Yeon-oh’s robe hung completely, shamelessly open. The dim, atmospheric lighting of the hotel room failed to illuminate every detail, instead casting deep shadows that aggressively highlighted the sharp contours of his upper body musculature. Watching that stray drop of water splash against Yeon-oh’s broad chest, Gi-hyeon bit his lip, suddenly feeling intensely parched.

“First… let go of me.”

Despite the request, Jo Yeon-oh—a man who had never once honored a boundary in his life—kept a firm grip on the ankle, his hands slowly migrating up to knead the calves.

“I said stop.”

“This is exactly what we came here to do. Both of us,” Yeon-oh countered, his voice dropping to a heavy, gravelly register. Gi-hyeon snapped his mouth shut. It wasn’t a lie.

Yeon-oh continued softly massaging his calves, the gentle pressure against his slightly swollen lower legs feeling so exquisitely good that Gi-hyeon had to actively bite back another moan. Yet, interpreting this as a sexual prelude felt inherently bizarre. The ankle Yeon-oh was currently cradling was the injured one, and the touch was so tender and saturated with consideration that it felt less like foreplay and more like physical therapy. The realization that this was the only way Yeon-oh could bear to touch him drained the energy right out of Gi-hyeon.

“If you just wanted to give me a massage, we could have done this at the house.”

“Sure, honey. If you’re that desperate for it, just say the word.” Ignoring Gi-hyeon’s point entirely, Yeon-oh’s grip on the ankle suddenly turned vicious as he aggressively yanked Gi-hyeon forward.

“Ugh, what are you doing?”

Dragged violently down the mattress, Gi-hyeon’s robe bunched up past his upper thighs, exposing him entirely.

As Gi-hyeon scrambled to pull the fabric down, Yeon-oh unceremoniously dropped the ankle, ripping the towel from his head and hurling it to the floor. Because he released the leg without warning, Gi-hyeon’s heel slammed against the mattress, the springs groaning with a dull thud. Still reeling from the sudden turbulence, Gi-hyeon gasped as a knee drove itself firmly between his spread thighs.

“Hey, wait—”

“I went to buy condoms. They didn’t have my size.”

Failing to process the statement immediately, Gi-hyeon blinked in confusion before asking, “…Do we need those?”

Yeon-oh’s face violently contorted at the question.

Muttering a vicious string of curses under his breath, he snapped in pure irritation. “Is your brain completely broken? You’re highly educated, how the fuck do you not know we need contraception?”

Contraception was literally meant to avoid pregnancy—since he was already knocked up, shouldn’t it be entirely irrelevant?

Furthermore, Gi-hyeon had never possessed the luxury of demanding condoms during their previous encounters. He had briefly panicked about it during the first few rounds, but eventually resigned himself to his fate. Telling a completely deranged, lust-crazed Jo Yeon-oh to put on a condom would have been a spectacular waste of breath anyway.

Unable to articulate that messy history, Gi-hyeon clamped his mouth shut, merely staring up at the man looming between his legs. Releasing a heavy sigh, Yeon-oh buried his face in his hands, muttering another curse.

“…What kind of absolute garbage son of a bitch did you get tangled up with to…”

Yeah, that garbage son of a bitch is you. Unfazed, Gi-hyeon blankly studied the wallpaper patterns on the ceiling. The ivory-colored wallpaper stared right back at him. Suddenly, the edge of the mattress dipped heavily as Yeon-oh climbed off the bed entirely.

“Fuck it. I need a drink first…”

“Doesn’t alcohol cause whiskey dick?”

It was an entirely reflexive mumble. In the military or the hospital breakroom, gather two guys together and the filthy locker-room talk was guaranteed; alcohol-induced erectile dysfunction was a thoroughly standard topic. Gi-hyeon had never actively participated in those crude conversations, nor had he ever attempted to pop a boner and perform after drinking, so he was genuinely just curious.

But that innocent curiosity apparently triggered something explosive inside Yeon-oh.

“…Did that bastard get drunk before he fucked you?”

“What?”

Gi-hyeon had no idea who the hell ‘that bastard’ was supposed to be, but the intense jealousy radiating from Yeon-oh regarding this phantom lover was unmistakable. Granted, Yeon-oh was the type to lose his mind over anything involving Gi-hyeon, but the way he was glaring—eyes burning with the dense, suffocating intensity of boiling tar in a cast-iron cauldron—was entirely different.

“Why do you care? That guy and I… we’re basically strangers now.”

Just like we’re basically strangers now, Gi-hyeon muttered internally, attempting to finally pull the edges of his gaping robe together. Yeon-oh snagged his wrist.

“Gi-hyeon, I told you to leave it. You’re going to take it off anyway.”

“Uh…?”

“Is doing it with your clothes on your fetish or something?”

Driving his knee back between Gi-hyeon’s thighs, Yeon-oh casually untied the sash of his own robe. Gi-hyeon could only stare blankly as the fabric cascaded off Yeon-oh’s shoulders, baring his broad chest completely. The loosened sash draped momentarily over the throbbing shaft of his fully erect cock before sliding off with a soft shhh.

“You…” Gi-hyeon gaped in pure shock. He genuinely hadn’t believed a sober Jo Yeon-oh was physically capable of popping a boner for him.

“…Stop staring at another man’s junk and tell me what your fetish is,” Yeon-oh demanded, dropping a hand to cover himself and block Gi-hyeon’s line of sight.

Gi-hyeon was dumbfounded. Not only did the hand fail to conceal the massive erection, but the portion jutting out past his fingers was aggressively twitching. Gi-hyeon stared blankly at the flushed, engorged glans, thick and swollen like an unripe apple. As if sensing his gaze, the cock pulsed violently again.

Yeon-oh reached out and slapped a hand over Gi-hyeon’s eyes.

“I said stop looking. You’re surprisingly horny, aren’t you.”

An incredulous laugh escaped Gi-hyeon. Releasing a sigh, he was just about to swat Yeon-oh’s hand away when Yeon-oh moved first, swiftly untying the sash of Gi-hyeon’s robe.

“…”

Gi-hyeon involuntarily held his breath. With his vision completely blacked out, the sensation of the fabric slowly sliding down his shoulders, biceps, abs, and inner thighs was agonizingly vivid. He could feel the muscles in his inner thighs twitching involuntarily.

“…You’re exactly the same,” Yeon-oh mocked softly.

When something lightly flicked against his cock, Gi-hyeon violently flinched. The tension in his lower abdomen skyrocketed, the blood rushing south so rapidly he could practically feel the veins bulging.

“Why are you so smooth down here?” Yeon-oh dragged a palm across Gi-hyeon’s lower stomach in a tone of genuine marvel.

Mortified, Gi-hyeon shoved Yeon-oh’s blinding hand away and scowled. The thumb relentlessly teasing his skin was far too invasive.

“…Did you shave?” The low, gravelly whisper felt like it was excavating something deep inside him.

Gi-hyeon bit back a soft groan and shook his head. “It started falling out after my secondary gender manifested. What am I supposed to do about it? It’s not like I knew this was going to happen.”

It sounded like a pathetic excuse.

Even to his own eyes, the completely bald landscape where his thinning pubic hair used to be looked bizarre and embarrassing. Back in the military, the communal showers meant the rare guys with alopecia pubis often became targets for vicious teasing. Gi-hyeon had always thought making fun of a natural genetic condition was childish, but now that he was entirely hairless, the profound humiliation was undeniably real. He desperately wanted to clarify that he hadn’t intentionally waxed himself, but a sudden, wet drop splattered against his thigh.

“What the…”

Looking down to investigate, he spotted a perfectly clear, viscous droplet pooling on his skin like a bead of water. Tracing the trajectory upward, Gi-hyeon found himself staring directly at Yeon-oh’s cock, the slit practically drooling with thick pre-cum.

“Fuck…” Yeon-oh ground out the curse.