Side story 3. Ch 2.1

02.

Room 420.

A mahjong game was underway inside the room. Two women and one man were fiddling with their tiles, looking utterly bored.

As Park Jinkyung glanced around in search of some excitement, she suddenly clapped her hands as if something had just come to mind.

“Oh, Suwon’s here now, isn’t he?”

At the sudden mention of Yeowon, the man let out a deep hum from his throat. He took his eyes off the tiles in his hand and raised his glass. Park Jinkyung’s eyes lit up with interest as she picked up the phone in the room.

“This is so dull, it’s killing me. We should call Suwon over. You’re fine with that, right, CEO?”

The man said nothing. His jaw had stiffened. But since the lower half of his face was hidden by his glass, Park Jinkyung didn’t notice. As he remained silently drinking, one of the women took the initiative and contacted the president’s office.

Not long after, Yeowon walked in personally carrying the room service tray. His expression made it clear he’d been dragged out against his will. It seemed he had no choice but to comply, since the caller was none other than a VIP client.

The man twisted one corner of his mouth as he looked at Yeowon in the suit he had bought him. He looked less like someone who belonged in an executive suite and more like he’d stepped out of a fashion catalog.

“Hey, been a while.”

Kim Miran greeted him with affected cheer.

“Hello.”

Yeowon gave a polite nod. At that, the faint smile that had lingered on the man’s face disappeared. Yeowon didn’t stop there—he began to unload the dishes from the tray himself.

…They say old habits die hard.

The fact that he still stepped up to do something fit for a regular employee grated on the man’s nerves. He reached out and grabbed Yeowon’s wrist. Yeowon looked at him with puzzled eyes.

“…Why?”

He didn’t voice the question, only asked it with his gaze, but the man ignored him completely. He tightened his grip and pulled Yeowon down into the seat beside him.

Only then did Yeowon seem to realize something was off. He reached for the phone in the room and said quietly,

“This is Room 420. Please send up another server.”

He hung up and sat down again next to the man. The man wrapped one arm around Yeowon’s shoulders and pulled him into his chest, pressing his lips to his cheekbone.

Yeowon closed his eyes, letting it happen without resistance. A quiet resignation hung on his pale face, as if he’d simply decided to let things be.

Every gesture the man made—pulling Yeowon close, kissing his cheek—was natural, fluid. He showed not the slightest hesitation, even with others watching. It was something he took for granted; no need to factor in anyone else’s gaze.

When his lips parted with a soft smack, the women gave amused, intrigued hums.

A few minutes later, the staff arrived. With practiced hands, the server quickly arranged the table and gave a polite bow.

“Please enjoy your evening.”

Once the server had left, the sound of glass tiles snapping against the table resumed.

Park Jinkyung took out a cigarette from a crimson pack and placed it between her lips, painted with scarlet lipstick.

“Since CEO Kim got kicked out all of a sudden—”

She exhaled gray smoke through her nose and pulled a tile from the central stack, now piled high.

“Looks like I’ll have to deal with CEO Jang directly for all the goods coming into Royal from now on.”

The man, whose turn it was, discarded a tile without a word and w** his throat with another sip of liquor.

Just like Park Jinkyung said, things had gotten messier with Yeowon being called into the room.

Park Jinkyung originally smuggled goods from China for resale. The profit margins must have been sweet—despite being flush with cash, she seemed to enjoy the business like some kind of vice. Naturally, she supplied certain goods to Royal too—premium alcohol, imported cigarettes. There wasn’t much money in it on this end, but she had connections and influence in China, so the relationship was mutually beneficial.

“You must really like him. Enough to give him a seat at the table like this.”

Yeowon dropped his gaze under Park Jinkyung’s stare.

She studied his pale face as if appraising it. She observed each feature—eyes, nose, lips—as if to tear them apart one by one, then let out a pleased hum.

“Oh, right.”

As if remembering something, she raised an index finger. After rummaging through her handbag, she pulled out an outfit wrapped in plastic.

“Picked this up on a trip—was planning to dress my girls in it.”

With nails painted pitch black, she tore away the plastic, revealing a red satin garment.

“It’s cute, but the waist seems a little tight. You should dress him in it while you still can.”

The man didn’t even glance at the clothing. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Yeowon’s waist. Narrowing his gaze, he seemed to calculate the measurement beneath the white shirt. The way Yeowon’s waist fit snugly under one arm—it was slim.

“With that baby-smooth skin, it’ll look perfect on him.”

“……”

“If I said I wanted to see it on him too…”

Park Jinkyung peeked at the man’s face. His expression was blank, entirely unreadable. Only his firm jaw twitched, betraying the fact that he was biting back a curse under his breath.

Sensing the danger, Park Jinkyung pressed her lips together.

“Since the CEO would hate that idea to death, I guess I’ll shut my mouth. Right, unni? That’s probably for the best?”

“Shut that d**n mouth and hand me one too.”

When Kim Miran reached out her hand, Park Jinkyung passed her the cigarette she had been smoking.

The bored women drank all they could, smoked to their hearts’ content, then left the room in search of something new to amuse them.

Now only the two of them remained. The room was a mess, like a storm had blown through.

The man sat at the table still littered with mahjong tiles, a cigarette in his mouth.

Yeowon stood, picking up the ashtray stuffed with cigarette b**ts. He soaked a napkin thoroughly and placed it in front of the man, then began transferring the bottles to the tray one by one.

“……”

“……”

The man watched with narrowed eyes. His demeanor had completely shifted from earlier.

Now that the person serving him was Yeowon, all of the irritation he had shown earlier had vanished.

Yeowon worked diligently, tidying the table. Then he picked up something wrapped in plastic.

“…Ah.”

His face twisted ever so slightly.

That was when the man’s attention shifted.

He hadn’t given the clothing a single glance earlier, but now, the contrast of red fabric against Yeowon’s pale skin made it stand out even more. Add to that the obvious distaste Yeowon showed—it was impossible for the man not to react.

The remnants of the mahjong game were still on the table. The man ran his fingers along the tiles and said,

“Why don’t you try it on?”

Yeowon, unable to hide his discomfort, looked at him in disbelief.

“…Sorry?”

“You have to deal with customers.”

 

Yeowon’s gaze, fixed on him, changed as if he were looking at the most deranged psychopath in the world.  

 

“Park Jinkyung said she wanted to see you dressed up too.”  

 

Even though he had left the rest unsaid, Yeowon—quick on the uptake—immediately grasped what the man was implying. In other words, he was telling him to get dressed before bringing Park Jinkyung back into the room.  

 

“You should come out without even wearing underwear.”  

 

The man had been hoping to watch him change right in front of him. But Yeowon bit his lower lip hard, grabbed his clothes, and disappeared into the room. Left alone, the man loosened his tie and listened to the faint rustling sounds coming from inside.  

 

How much time had passed like that?  

 

Then he heard sound of the door opening. The man’s gaze turned toward it. Yeowon was stepping out.  

 

The red cheongsam glowed softly under the light, clinging to his body and revealing every curve. His slender waist and the long, pale legs extending from the thigh-high slit immediately caught the man’s attention. The deep cut along one thigh only made him more enticing.  

 

“This suits you better than the suit.”  

 

At the teasing remark, Yeowon’s face flushed visibly red. Probably all the way down his neck. It was a shame the high collar hid it. Instead, the man fixed his eyes on his exposed legs, lingering on the dangerously high slit where his inner thigh peeked through.  

 

“What did you do about underneath?”  

 

At the man’s low whisper, Yeowon hesitated before shaking his head slightly.  

 

“I told you to take them off.”  

 

Yeowon pressed his lips—as red as his cheongsam—between his teeth. After a long pause, he moved his hand toward his thigh, his fingers trembling just above the hem. He seemed to hesitate, knowing he’d have to lift the skirt to remove what little remained.  

 

The man’s mouth burned. He took a sip from his glass, wetting his throat. He wanted to spread his thighs wide right then and take him, but he decided to wait. Some things were better savored at the right moment.  

 

Yeowon finally seemed to resign himself. Realizing the man wouldn’t back down, he closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and lifted the hem of his skirt. For a brief moment, the man caught a glimpse of his still-youthful g**in before Yeowon hastily pulled the fabric back down.  

 

Yeowon rolled down the underwear beneath his skirt. The thin fabric slid smoothly down his thighs, past his knees, and dropped to the floor with a soft *thud*. He stepped out of the coiled garment and stood there, clasping his hands together like a guilty child, staring at the ground.  

 

“…I took them off.”  

 

“……”  

 

The man glared at Yeowon’s discarded underwear to check if it was w**. Sure enough, there was a faint damp spot. Even without being touched, the mere thought of what was to come had left him w**.  

 

The man’s pupils darkened further.  

 

“Come here and sit.”  

 

He gestured to his lap. His urging voice was laced with excitement, fraying at the edges.  

 

Yeowon hesitated before approaching him. Then, slowly, he lowered himself onto the man’s thighs. The man smirked, feeling the soft weight of Yeowon’s a** against him. He wrapped an arm around Yeowon’s waist, fingers skimming the fabric before sliding down his spine.  

 

His fingertips trailed lower, reaching the slit of Yeowon’s dress. He pushed his hand inside, fingers brushing against the exposed skin. Yeowon shuddered, pulling back when the man tried to reach further. The loss of that warm flesh against his palm made the man frown.  

 

Yeowon muttered an excuse, voice barely audible.  

 

“…I’m not wearing anything underneath.”  

 

As if that explained anything. The man only grew more amused. He wanted to split him open right then, but part of him also wanted to keep watching Yeowon squirm in his lap, unsure what to do.  

 

The man picked up the cigarette pack Park Jinkyung had left behind. Placing one between his lips, he stared at Yeowon. Yeowon picked up the matchbox labeled Royal, struck a match, and held it to the tip of the cigarette.  

 

The man inhaled deeply, arching a brow as the flame flickered. Yeowon blew it out with a soft whoosh. The man continued the game he’d been playing earlier with the women, discarding a tile while keeping his eyes on Yeowon.  

 

Having Yeowon perched on his lap made the cigarette taste better, the tiles feel smoother under his fingers.  

 

The man held the cigarette between his lips and let his free hand roam Yeowon’s chest.  

 

“…Ah.”  

 

Yeowon had no choice but to submit to his touch. Soft m**ns slipped past his parted lips.  

 

“Nn, hng…”  

 

Soon, two small buds strained against the thin fabric.  

 

“CEO.”  

 

At Yeowon’s urging call, the man popped open the buttons of his dress. Pop, pop, pop. One by one, they came undone from his chest to his armpit. The man kneaded his chest roughly, making both n**ples stiffen. Yeowon, feeling it too, flushed red to the tips of his ears in shame.  

 

The man lifted Yeowon from his lap and placed him on the table. Glass mahjong tiles clattered to the floor with a sharp clink, but he didn’t care. He shoved his hand under Yeowon’s skirt. Though Yeowon recoiled in protest, the man’s intent was firm.  

 

He pushed aside the soft curls between his thighs and took his hardening length in hand. A satisfied groan rumbled in the man’s throat. He slicked his fingers with lube from the nightstand before pushing two inside.  

 

“Nn, ngh…!”  

 

Yeowon buried his face in the man’s neck, m**ning at just that much.  

 

The man unbuckled his belt. The zipper came down with a rough sound, and he pressed the head of his c*ck against Yeowon’s entrance. Already fully hard, he pushed in without hesitation.  

 

“Ah—!”  

 

Yeowon’s legs locked around his waist, squeezing tight. His hole, already prepped, took him in easily. After a few shallow thrusts to stretch him, the man began fucking him in earnest.  

 

The l**d, w** sounds of their coupling filled the room. The crude noise only spurred the man on. He gripped Yeowon’s hips, slamming into him with abandon. His hands kneaded the pliant flesh of his a** before delivering a sharp smack. The skin jiggled like waves.  

 

“Ah—ah—f*ck!”  

 

Yeowon’s back arched sharply, his hole clamping down on the man’s c**k. Lost in the sensation, the man threw his head back, veins bulging along his neck. A low groan spilled from his lips.  

 

“Hn.”  

 

Tight, w**, impossibly good. The man grabbed Yeowon’s slender chest, rolling his n**ples between rough fingers until they swelled even more. Yeowon melted under the attention, breath coming in ragged gasps.  

 

“…CEO, ngh—CEO, CEO—”  

 

The desperate plea told the man he was close. Sure enough, Yeowon’s body tensed, his insides squeezing around him as he came. The man lifted his limp body and carried him to the bed.  

 

When he spread Yeowon’s trembling thighs, his hole was still gaping slightly.  

 

“…Ah, not yet—!”

 

“I said not yet—”

 

Even as Yeowon tried to arch away, the man ignored him and sheathed himself fully inside. The sharp jut of his hipbones rose and fell in a relentless rhythm, like pistons driving deep.  

 

Yeowon, melting like wax under a flame, buried his face in the sheets and gasped the man’s title.  

 

“CEO.”

 

His trembling hand reached out—fingers skimming the man’s abs before trailing lower, toward the dark curls peeking through his undone zipper. The man caught that hand, interlacing their fingers with a possessive grip.  

 

“Climb on top.” 

 

Shivering, Yeowon obeyed. His thighs were already slick with spend, the ruined fabric of his cheongsam hiked up as he straddled the man’s lap. Palms braced against the man’s chest, he rose on unsteady knees.  

 

The man watched, brow furrowed, drinking in every detail.  

 

Yeowon began to move. The parted halves of his cheongsam swayed like crimson waves, his flushed n**ples fully exposed as he panted above the man. The red silk made his feverish face even more striking—almost hypnotic. The man yanked the hem up to Yeowon’s navel, baring the slender abdomen where the outline of his c**k bulged obscenely with each thrust.  

 

“Ah—!” 

 

Yeowon suddenly clenched his thighs together, trembling like he was holding back urine. The tight squeeze of his inner walls wrenched a groan from the man, who gripped Yeowon’s hips and pistoned upward. Yeowon’s body jolted.  

 

“W-Wait! I need—the bathroom—!”  

 

The man didn’t stop. A gush of white spilled from Yeowon’s c**k, streaking the man’s torso in erratic ribbons. Transparent droplets pooled in the grooves of his abs.  

 

The man fucked him through it, wringing out every last drop until Yeowon collapsed forward, toes curling, a final bead dripping onto the man’s skin.  

 

They lay tangled, gasping.  

 

“CEO.”

 

Yeowon’s whisper was a plea. He parted his lips—an invitation. The flash of his tongue behind reddened flesh made the man surge up to claim his mouth. The kiss was filthy, all teeth and slick friction.  

 

“Hah… Ah…”  

 

Yeowon cupped the man’s jaw, m**ning into the crush of their lips. When they broke apart, the man dragged Yeowon’s hand to his own mouth, laving his tongue over the sensitive webbing between fingers. The obscene w** sounds made Yeowon’s ears burn crimson.  

 

This—the hidden places, the unspoken meanings—was theirs alone.  

 

Yeowon retaliated by nipping at the man’s ring finger, kitten-soft. The man shoved it deeper into that hot mouth and snapped his hips.  

 

“Ahn—! Hhk!”  

 

Yeowon nearly bit down in shock. The man didn’t flinch, but Yeowon fretted instantly.  

 

“D-Did I hurt you?” 

 

His distressed expression was endearing. The man just smirked and watched him squirm.  

 

Silence.  

 

Anxious, Yeowon swirled his tongue over the man’s finger, lavishing attention on the old scar there. The tenderness speared through the man’s chest like a blade—hot, unwelcome, uncontrollable. He drowned it in violence, f*cking up into Yeowon until the bedframe rattled.  

 

They came together like animals, l**king each other’s wounds.  

 

“Water.”

A hand flopped gracelessly toward the nightstand, groping for water. The man watched, amused, as Yeowon failed to reach the glass. He could’ve helped—*wouldn’t*.  

 

Yeowon finally sat up, drained the cup, and collapsed back with a whine.  

 

“I can’t sleep. It’s too…” 

 

“Too what?”  

 

Hurt? The man’s question earned a weak headshake.  

 

“W**. Everything’s… sticky.” 

 

The irony—complaining about thirst after begging for every drop.  

 

“You made the mess. Lie in it.” 

 

Yeowon burrowed under the sheets like a mortified snail. The man hauled him close and pressed a kiss to his temple.