Side story 3. Ch 2.2

Before anyone realized, February had arrived.

The man stepped into the house, feeling the dry wind at his back. As he entered through the front door, his brows furrowed slightly.

At the very least, he should have come out to greet me.

He hadn’t been told Yeowon had gone out, so he must be in the bathroom.

The man hung his jacket on the wooden coat rack and headed for the bathroom. Water splashing could be heard from inside. Without hesitation, he opened the door.

A sharp inhale rang out.

“When did you get back?”

Yeowon, who had been crouched down with his knees bent, sprang to his feet in surprise.

The man’s gaze scanned Yeowon’s body. His lower abdomen was soaked, and his pants were rolled up to just below the thighs, exposing his pronounced knees. In the basin he had been dipping his hands into sat a white shirt. The man immediately recognized it—it was the one he had worn the day before.

Yeowon quickly unrolled his pants down to his ankles, then muttered an excuse.

“The shirt fabric gets damaged if I put it in the washing machine.”

He already knew Yeowon sometimes hand-washed his shirts. But this was the first time he’d seen it with his own eyes.

Even though he made sure Yeowon’s pockets were always full of cash, some habits didn’t die easily.

The traces of a once-impoverished life clung to Yeowon like moss, embedded deep into his body.

Leaving the basin behind, Yeowon stepped out of the bathroom and asked,

“Have you eaten yet?”

He had been working so earnestly that a faint flush had crept into his usually pale cheeks.

As the man silently took in the sight of him, Yeowon’s face flared red, like a lit matchstick. He rubbed his cheek with the back of his damp hand.

“You should shower.”

The man wrapped himself in a robe and walked out into the living room. A spicy aroma filled the house.

Yeowon stirred a pot with a ladle, then scooped out a bit to taste. A soft slurping sound followed. Still unsure, he sprinkled in a little more salt and tasted again.

The man stepped onto the terrace. He opened the glass door, still stained with blackened burn marks, and lit a cigarette.

They ate dinner with a glass of wine. As always, Yeowon behaved with quiet decorum, chewing slowly before sipping wine to wet his throat. Then he glanced at the man.

“I have something to tell you.”

When the man asked what it was, Yeowon hesitated, his lips twitching for a long time before he finally spoke. He looked hesitant, but the man waited patiently.

“I think I need to quit the job at the golf course.”

The man wasn’t surprised—he had expected as much around this time. Since he didn’t show much of a reaction, Yeowon offered an explanation, almost like an excuse.

“…The weather’s getting warmer now. It’s time for new clients to start coming in.”

The man, generously indulgent, gave his permission without protest.

“I’m sorry.”

A hint of guilt lingered on Yeowon’s face. He felt ashamed for failing to properly carry out the work the man had entrusted to him. …Not realizing how pointless that remorse really was.

The man asked in a testing tone,

“So what are you planning to do now?”

Yeowon bit his lower lip and shook his head. He lowered it further, looking ashamed of his own helplessness.

The man stared at the crown of his bowed head. Soft light brown hair, neatly parted like it was trained by its owner, spread across the pale scalp.

Fixating on it, the man slowly curled his lips into a silent smile Yeowon couldn’t see.

He’d already received reports that Yeowon had been drifting at school. That he’d grown distant even from the one girl he used to hang out with.

The man recalled the scene from the day he went to pick Yeowon up.

Just remembering it made his jaw tighten with disgust.

As he was about to get out of the car in front of the bar, the door to the place opened.

The man straightened instantly when he saw Yeowon staggering out. His face froze over in an instant.

Unaware, Yeowon swayed forward, his face and neck flushed red. The girl clung to him, helping him walk as she led him somewhere.

The man, hidden in the darkness, trailed behind.

His foot, pressing against the gas pedal, twitched. The effort it took to hold himself back—to suppress that dog-like impulse—was immense.

The girl finally settled Yeowon’s limp, melting body onto a bench.

Yeowon’s head drooped like a weed bent under the wind.

And how did the girl respond? She guided Yeowon’s head onto her shoulder.

Because she was shorter, Yeowon’s neck bent at a near-vertical angle. The motion exposed the base of his neck, which had been hidden beneath his shirt collar.

Her eyes were drawn to it. Of course they were.

It’s natural for humans to feel hunger when something delicious is right in front of them.

But for her hand to actually touch Yeowon’s neck—that was another matter.

The man had to suppress the urge to smash that defenseless, exposed face—something that should’ve been untouchable to anyone else.

“I guess I’ll just have to stay home now and take care of the housework.”

“Probably for a while.”

Yeowon shrank back and added that it would only be for a while. The man raised his brows.

“For a while?”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, then reached out toward Yeowon.

Yeowon, perhaps slightly buzzed, followed his touch without resistance. His eyes seemed unfocused.

And when the man imagined that same dazed look—how Yeowon might’ve had it when the girl’s hand touched his neck—it made something coil and burn inside him like snakes slithering through fire.

“Isn’t it easier to just hole up at home, cook for me, wash and iron my shirts?”

Yeowon, lips slightly parted as if his mouth had gone dry, asked,

“Do you want me to live like that forever?”

The question had bite.

The man’s arched brows twisted even more sharply.

“You’re more comfortable like this.”

Yeowon, who had been looking at the man’s eyes—or perhaps somewhere above his nose—lowered his gaze.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be completely useless.”

“Why.”

When the man asked, Yeowon seemed to hesitate again. He wavered, then carefully spoke.

“Because the CEO…”

His words slurred slightly from the alcohol.

“…Because Jang Ki-joo might…”

The man brushed aside the strands of hair covering Yeowon’s eyes and waited for him to continue.

“…change his mind someday.”

It was a more unexpected answer than he anticipated. The man’s eyes widened slightly.

As he repeated Yeowon’s words to himself, suspicion crept in.

Was he saying he was waiting for the man to change his mind? Hoping that one day he’d be let go?

If so—how cunning, how foolish a thought to hold in that little head of his.

But whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, Yeowon turned out to be far more stupid and innocent than expected.

“So what am I supposed to do when that happens?”

That was what he was worried about.

Worried he’d be discarded.

Seo Yeowon had an unexpected knack for making people laugh.

The man gently stroked his cheek with his rough hand.

Did he even know what the man had thought when he saw him hand-washing that shirt?

Even though he knew it was impossible, he had imagined it.

Imagined Yeowon carrying his child.

Not because he cared about the child itself. He simply wondered what it would be like to see Seo Yeowon pregnant with his child.

In a house the man had given him.

Wearing clothes the man had bought him.

Heavy with a belly full of the man’s seed, unable to move, just waiting for him to return…

Just the thought made his fingertips tingle with pleasure.

It was a thrill so sharp, it bordered on madness.

But the man masked that vile desire beneath a calm expression and said quietly,

“Then all I have to do is not abandon Seo Yeowon.”

Yeowon nodded faintly.

“Ask me not to abandon you.”

Yeowon looked weighed down by sorrow. His eyes were rimmed with red.

The man remembered the day Yeowon had come to Royal, saying he wanted to drink.

He recalled his face that night.

Those trembling lashes.
Those tear-damp eyes.
Those lips, quivering like a wounded animal.

He contacted Kim Joongdeok while Yeowon slept beside him. Kim Joongdeok said Yeowon hadn’t looked well since getting into the car. Suspecting something had happened at school, Kim Joongdeok promised to look into it and hung up.

The report he received the next day was appalling.

He had expected something of the sort, but the rumors surrounding Yeowon were filthier than he had imagined.

Given Yeowon’s perceptiveness, there was no way he wasn’t aware of them.

“Please don’t throw me away.”

Mumbling in a vague voice, he clung to the man. Burying his face against the man’s chest, he looked up at him with slow, fluttering eyelashes.

Yeowon sought his answer with his eyes.

Seeing those pupils gradually sinking into anxiety when no reply came, the man let out a faint groan. It was a sigh laced with ecstasy.

The thrill of having Yeowon beg not to be abandoned and come into his arms—confirmation that his choice hadn’t been wrong.

The adrenaline surged so violently that, though it was purely a mental high, he felt a heavy fullness below.

Back when he saw the drunken Yeowon, swaying and leaning on just anyone. The only reason the man hadn’t acted on impulse was because he had calculated too many variables.

Of course, it had taken tremendous self-control. Even now, dozens of times a day, visions of tearing that scene apart raced through his mind.

It was an unpleasant feeling, as if his chest cavity were filled with foul water sloshing about.

Fortunately, being a businessman to his bones, he took care not to repeat past mistakes.

However, this time, he waited for Seo Yeowon to act.

Just as he had barely suppressed his fury to give Yeowon a chance, he wanted Yeowon to show that he had changed, too.

He waited for him to return—to the ordinary life he once longed for, to the self who had long left behind Yoon Mihyun.

And just as the thread of his patience, already worn thin, was about to snap—

This Seo Yeowon chose him.

“We were supposed to go to the beach once the weather warmed up.”

Yeowon murmured softly. His eyes, moist with memory, gazed into the void as if recalling something.

It was obvious who he had made that plan with, even without asking.

The man pressed a kiss to Yeowon’s forehead and willingly answered that he would go.

***

The man woke from a short sleep.

Yeowon, who had been leaning against one side of his chest, had disappeared.

As the weight pressing against him lifted, his eyes twisted in displeasure.

Following Yeowon’s presence, the man heard soft rustling from the kitchen.

Only then did he wash up and head toward the source.

A faint scent of coffee beans wafted through the house.

Yeowon, loitering in the kitchen, turned to greet him.

“You’re awake.”

Wearing a loosely tied robe, the man silently stepped out onto the terrace.

As he lit a cigarette, the door behind him opened. Yeowon entered with two cups of coffee.

They spent some time quietly sipping the steaming brew.

Before dawn, the two of them left the house.

To stretch his body, the man often swam during the early morning or late night, when few people were around.

After one lap, as he surfaced, Yeowon—who had been sitting on the edge—was already knee-deep in the water.

Staring down at the ring on his finger, he toyed with it.

The man dove back into the water.

Yeowon’s legs, crossing and kicking beneath the clear surface, stirred up little pale-white puffs of flesh like flour.

Watching the floating blur, the man emerged near Yeowon, pushing off the pool tiles with his palm.

“What a surprise—you’re getting in the water.”

“I couldn’t before because I couldn’t take off my top.”

“Ah, right.”

Of course the man had known, yet he commented casually.

The next day, they arrived at the pool slightly earlier than before.

Yeowon’s still-sleepy eyes opened slightly wider.

At this hour, the pool should’ve been open, but the door remained shut.

“Huh?”

Yeowon looked at the man, confused.

He walked to the door, tapped a card, and entered a password—the door lock released.

Yeowon’s puzzled gaze lingered on the man’s face.

He had no way of knowing the man had restricted access from 4 to 6 a.m., just in case.

Although few used the pool at that hour anyway, he had taken precautions.

As usual, Yeowon tried to sit on a sunbed, but the man told him to come in.

Startled by the unexpected request, Yeowon awkwardly stood and stepped toward the pool.

Wearing a T-shirt, as if still unfamiliar, he splashed water onto himself and entered the pool.

He slowly waded around, adapting, and then—like a fish in water—began to swim laps.

His form was nearly flawless, like a professional.

The man, now out of the water, lightly dried himself with a towel and asked Yeowon if he had ever formally learned to swim.

“…Ah, it was part of the entrance exam at school.”

Yeowon seemed distracted.

He was absentmindedly toying with the ring the man had left on the table—so naturally, as if it were his.

“Because of that ring, people think you’re married.”

“So?”

Hesitating, Yeowon reached for the man’s hand.

He slowly slid the ring onto the man’s scarred ring finger.

Gazing down at his own hand, now wearing the ring, the man asked quietly:

“Are you asking me to play the part of a married man?”

Yeowon blushed up to his neck, avoiding his gaze.

Burying his face in the towel, he pretended to dry himself.

***

The man drove, dressed a little more casually than usual.

Yeowon kept glancing at him, lips parting and closing as if trying to speak.

Like an animal needing to relieve itself.

With that face before him, the man recalled what Kim Joongdeok had told him yesterday.

Typical, uneventful updates spilled from Kim’s mouth.

Listening blankly, the man frowned at one part.

‘He stopped by the department store this afternoon.’

The man had asked, ‘Why there?’

‘He bought a book titled Introduction to Korean Cooking from the bookstore on the second floor.’

At dinner the night before, Yeowon had casually mentioned wanting to learn to cook.

The man looked at the person before him.

The food set on the table was, for the first time, entirely prepared without the help of the housekeeper.

Yeowon watched him intently across the table.

His large eyes shimmered with anticipation, as if awaiting a verdict.

The man set down his chopsticks and gripped the table edges.

The large table fit entirely within his arms.

With a light movement of his jaw, he asked:

‘You planning to seriously learn how to keep house?’

When he tilted his head mockingly, Yeowon bit his lower lip.

He still seemed unsure of the man’s true thoughts and looked a bit anxious.

At that time, the position of Royal’s CEO remained vacant.

He had arranged things so that it would be Yeowon’s if he ever wanted it.

But the foolish boy, rejecting the role that Kim Joongdeok had clung to so desperately, was talking about learning housekeeping.

The man barely stopped himself from smirking.

‘I’ll tell Kim Joongdeok to find you a private tutor—twice a week.’

Yeowon’s eyes curved as he gave a faint smile.

‘I tried this recipe after looking it up online.’

He scooped some broth with a ladle and held it out to the man.

The man looked down at the table.

Steam rose from every dish.

Yeowon always timed the meals to be hot when the man arrived.

He raised his gaze again to look at him.

Once, Yeowon had barely met his eyes, hiding behind his lashes.

Now he gazed directly at him, eyes shining.

Those thick lashes, fluffier than the hair below his navel, blinked slowly.

He was filling his world with nothing but the man.

“…CEO?”

Called back by the soft voice, the man emerged from his brief reverie.

‘…And then?’

‘And then he bought a ring with his paycheck from Royal.’

…A ring?

And it wasn’t even bought with the man’s card—but with Yeowon’s own salary.

That made it all the more suspicious.

The man stared at Yeowon in the passenger seat—or rather, at his hand.

The ring that had once been his was now on Yeowon’s finger.

But the newly purchased one was nowhere in sight.

His eyes kept tracking it.

Come to think of it, one side of Yeowon’s pocket bulged slightly.

Staring out the front windshield, Yeowon let out a soft “Wow.”

A vast ocean spread before them.

Even as Yeowon gasped in awe, the man’s gaze remained fixed on his pale face.

Sensing that stare, Yeowon turned his head and quietly called him.

“CEO.”

As if he had finally made up his mind, Yeowon spoke in a trembling voice.

“…I have something to give you.”

His faintly lit eyes were calm, and a shy smile hung on his lips.

The black car carrying them sped down the road.

The journey to their destination felt endless—so long it seemed they might never arrive.

But at last, they reached their goal.

Before the man was the most beautiful thing he had ever possessed.

A smile faintly bloomed on his lips.

<End>