Side Story 2 Ch 4 End

END. Part 4

 

A vibration from his phone drew the man’s attention. The number on the screen was unmistakably his home landline. When he answered, Yeowon’s voice flowed through the receiver.  

 

—CEO.  

 

The man instinctively swallowed dryly at the sound of Yeowon calling him. He loosened the tie constricting his throat.  

 

—Can I go to the supermarket with Auntie?  

 

“Be back by seven.”  

 

There was a brief silence, as if Yeowon were checking the time, before a compliant voice answered in understanding. The man recalled those plush, red lips parting and closing around his c*ck.  

 

—What time will you be home today?  

 

“Why? Do you have something planned?”  

 

—No, it’s not that…  

 

Yeowon trailed off. The man caught Kim Joong-deok’s gaze flickering toward him in the rearview mirror. He pressed his thumb over the phone, muffling Yeowon’s voice. When he spoke again, it was in a tone so quiet only the man could hear.  

 

—I just… wanted to have dinner together.  

 

There was a business dinner tonight. The man didn’t answer, staring into the rearview mirror until his eyes met Kim Joongdeok’s. The other man adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.  

 

“I have prior arrangements.”  

 

—Then… I’ll leave something prepared for you.  

 

Come home and eat it. The whispered words clung to his ear, making the man bite down hard on the inside of his cheek. Without another word, he hung up.

 

***

 

The man stepped out of Room 420 at the Royal Hotel and tugged his tie loose from his nape. His vision swayed drunkenly. Every exhale carried the thick stench of alcohol. Pressing his fingers into his temples, he headed toward the entrance where his car was waiting.  

 

He wasn’t the type to get drunk easily, but tonight, the intoxication weighed heavily on him—likely due to the pills dissolved in his drink. As he slid into the back seat, the black leather upholstery embraced his body with a soft grip.  

 

Kim Joongdeok, gripping the steering wheel, studied the man’s condition through the rearview mirror. After hesitating several times, he finally spoke with careful courtesy.  

“Sir, considering tomorrow’s schedule… perhaps it would be better to rest at the Royal?”  

 

From the Royal Hotel, tucked away in the far corners of Korea, to the man’s penthouse in central Seoul, it would take over two hours even if they sped. Logically, staying at the hotel would be wiser. But the man, his jaw turned toward the window, gave no reply. Joongdeok stole a glance at him before starting the car. He figured it would take him another decade to truly understand his superior’s unspoken intentions.  

 

A little under two hours later, the car arrived at the residence. By then, the alcohol had fully seeped into the man’s veins, his brain gnawed at by the intoxication like worms burrowing deep.  

 

When the man opened the door, a dim light spilled from inside. He braced his large frame against the mirror-lined wall and kicked off his shoes.  

 

A rustling sound came from within, and Yeowon appeared. His movements were brisk, almost as if he had anticipated the man’s arrival.  

 

“Welcome back.”  

 

Yeowon helped the man out of his coat, watching him cautiously. The man’s gaze drifted to where Yeowon had been sitting earlier—a table by the sofa stacked with books. Yeowon, nearing graduation, had clearly been studying before hurriedly closing his books at the sound of the door.  

 

“…Are you alright?”  

 

The man rolled his eyes to stare at Yeowon. Concern flickered in the younger man’s gaze. The drunk man silently studied that face, his own eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher Yeowon’s thoughts. Then, his lips twisted into a smirk. The idea that someone was worried about him struck him as absurd, and he couldn’t hold back his scorn.  

 

Yeowon hesitated before speaking again.  

 

“Joongdeok-hyung called ahead… I drew a bath for you.”  

 

The man undid his shirt buttons as if tearing them open. His hands moved steadily, betraying no sign of intoxication—except for the alcohol-laced breaths he exhaled, thick enough for even him to notice.  

 

Naked, he sank into the tub. Yeowon sat beside him, scrubbing his torso. His gaze avoided the man’s piercing stare, his hands working diligently.  

 

The man’s damp eyes lingered on Yeowon’s brows, fuller than usual under the steam. Suddenly, his hand shot out, gripping Yeowon’s chin. He pulled him close, crushing their lips together. His teeth ground against Yeowon’s soft flesh—less a kiss, more a bite. Only when he had thoroughly claimed Yeowon’s mouth did he let go.  

 

“…Haah.”  

 

Yeowon’s chest heaved. His face and neck flushed red, his eyes downcast—an expression usually reserved for when he was being taken from behind. The man looked at that heated face and thought, I want to kill him.

 

“…Huh?”  

 

Yeowon slowly lifted his gaze, his face tinged with fear. Had he said that out loud? The man rubbed his thumb over Yeowon’s lips, still wet with his saliva. They were small, plump, and enticing.  

 

“What did you do today?”  

 

The same man who had just muttered about wanting to kill him now asked about his day. Yeowon, still flustered, stammered out a reply.  

 

“…I went to school, then went grocery shopping with the housekeeper.”  

 

The summary was brief, omitting much. The man already knew: Seo Yeowon had lunch with a female classmate, hesitated for twenty minutes at the bookstore before buying two textbooks, came home to study, then went to the supermarket in the afternoon to buy meat-heavy groceries. He prepared dinner but didn’t eat until 10 p.m., when it became clear the man wouldn’t return. He barely touched the galbijjim he’d spent two hours preparing—Yeowon didn’t enjoy meat. It seemed hard on his digestion.  

 

The man tugged at Yeowon’s turtleneck. Beneath it, his neck was mottled with red marks.  

 

“Didn’t your lunch friend ask anything?”  

 

Yeowon’s eyes flickered with confusion.  

 

“Like why you always wear turtlenecks.”  

 

“…I told her I catch colds easily.”  

 

The man let out a hollow laugh. His chest rose and fell sharply in the water. Did she believe that? He imagined Yeowon flustered, making excuses to hide the vulgar truth, his usually pale cheeks and neck burning red like they were now. What had that woman thought, seeing him like this?  

 

As filthy, degrading words flooded his mind, the man repeated himself.  

 

“I said I want to kill you.”  

 

“…….”  

 

Yeowon’s lips clamped shut like a sealed shell. His lashes lowered, half-covering his eyes. His lower lip, faintly pink, curled inward as if betraying his emotions.  

 

The man yanked Yeowon’s head down toward his cock. It was fully erect, straining painfully. He’d been like this since the moment he uttered those words—no, since he saw the footage of this pale body waiting for him at the dining table.  

 

Yeowon couldn’t have missed it. He obediently let himself be pulled between the man’s legs, his face sinking into the water. His pink tongue flicked over the man’s tip, and the man licked his own lower lip, resisting the urge to shove himself deeper down Yeowon’s throat. He wanted to tear into him, to spew every depraved word he could think of.  

 

Yeowon climbed onto him, his slender waist fitting snugly into the man’s grip. His eyes squeezed shut as soft moans escaped his lips.  

 

“Ah, aah…”  

 

Each whimper grated on the man’s heightened senses. With every shake of Yeowon’s pale body, his small, pink nipples trembled. The man slid his hands under Yeowon’s thighs, spreading them wider. The tight hole stretched to its limit, clenching around him with each thrust, sending waves of near-painful pleasure.  

 

The man imagined wrapping his hands around Yeowon’s neck—then did it. His grip tightened slowly, drunkenly, with no thought to control his strength.  

 

“…S-Sir.”  

 

Yeowon’s strained voice snapped him back to reality.  

 

“…I c-can’t breathe.”  

 

The man’s grip loosened instantly. Yeowon coughed, his body tightening around the man’s cock. For a second, the man saw white—he’d nearly come from the sheer intensity. Frantic, he pressed his mouth to the marks on Yeowon’s neck, licking and sucking as if reclaiming what was already entirely his.

“I can’t even kill this thing.”

Yeowon’s gaze landed on the man. His lips, damp from being nervously bitten, parted with a soft sound. A voice just as soaked as those lips spilled out.  

 

“Because of me…”  

 

The man swallowed dryly without realizing it. Thirst surged again. He wondered if draining every drop of water in this tub might finally quench it. Burning his throat, gnawing at his brain—he couldn’t tell whether what he needed to swallow was the water or Yeowon himself, submerged in it.  

 

“Does it hurt?”  

 

At the brazen question, the man frowned. He felt a sharp sting of insult.  

 

“…It hurt me too.”  

 

Yeowon’s eyes held a look of understanding, as if he knew the conflicting emotions rising in the man. With that gaze, he pressed his cheek against the man’s chest. The man looked down. The faint brown crown of the head nestled against him came into view. Then, he smirked. Amused by Yeowon acting as though he could see right through him. There was one thing Yeowon didn’t know. He had no idea what the man was hiding, what he’d endured to keep it buried.  

 

“When you weren’t by my side… I felt it too.”  

 

Yeowon’s ring-clad fingers curled around the man’s nape. The man couldn’t fight the surge of emotion. He tensed his thighs—honed through training—and thrust upward. Yeowon’s hair whipped back. The man gripped the back of his head, no larger than a fist, and panted as he drove toward the peak.  

 

“…Ah, ngh! Ceo…ngh”  

 

Marking his throat with fingerprints, swallowing the moaned title from those lips, he ravaged Yeowon’s waist. He sucked his ear, licked his neck, took a nipple into his mouth. When he scraped the sensitive bud with a short nail, Yeowon’s moans pitched higher. The sound echoed off the tiled walls, fueling the man’s frenzy.  

 

Stretching the tight entrance wide, the man came inside him. A heavy afterglow wrapped around them. Chests heaving, they kissed.  

 

Even after the climax, his heart hammered violently against his ribs.  

 

Yeowon, eyes shut during the kiss, slowly steadied his breath. His lashes lifted, revealing eyes that held the man’s reflection—twice over.  

 

“Ceo Jang Ki-joo…”  

 

The same shiver that had wracked him the first time Yeowon spoke his name returned.  

 

And then, it struck him. From the moment Yeowon first called his name, this pale body alone could never satisfy him. He needed Yeowon’s breath, his thoughts, the heart tucked behind his ribs—all of it.  

 

The man brushed his nose against Yeowon’s small nostrils. Though not a sexual act, Yeowon’s cheeks flushed crimson.  

 

Yeowon cupped the man’s jaw. The man lowered that hand, eyeing the ring on his finger. Then, sliding a hand beneath Yeowon’s thigh, their bodies began moving again. Water sloshed over the tub’s edge.  

 

He’d intended to take his time this round, but Yeowon’s oversensitive body clenched around him, ruining the plan. Savoring the warm, velvety grip, the man took his fill.  

 

“…Ah, f*ck.”  

 

***

 

After collapsing into sleep post-sex, a brutal hangover speared his temples. Cursing, he gripped his head and sat up. The sheets tangled around his waist fell away.  

 

“Here.”  

 

He stared at the offered cup. Diluted honey water sloshed inside. Yeowon faltered under his glare.  

 

“…The housekeeper brought it. She said it helps with hangovers.”  

 

“…….”  

 

“She said it’s good to drink after alcohol.”  

 

When the man scowled, Yeowon withdrew the cup and set it on the nightstand.  

 

“I’ll leave it here.”  

 

He turned to flee. The man’s bleary vision caught the neat hairline, the nape flushed as if pressed by a palm. His gaze dropped to the crumpled sheets—and the dark pubic hair visible there. Smirking, he grabbed Yeowon’s arm and yanked him back. Yeowon landed on his thighs. The man leisurely studied him from below. This angle always offered something new. Usually, Yeowon kept his eyes down unless forced, but here, every feature was clear. Arms behind his head, the man admired him like a painting.  

 

“…Why are you doing this?”  

 

Even though he was the one naked, Yeowon was the one blushing and avoiding eye contact. The man watched his throat redden further with amusement.  

 

“After all we did last night, this is the problem?”  

 

Yeowon’s eyes darted helplessly.  

 

“Drink the honey water.”  

 

The man reached for the cup and gulped it under Yeowon’s watch. The sweetness made him grimace. When he lowered the cup, their eyes met—Yeowon jerked his head away like a caught child.  

 

“I made stew.”  

 

The kitchen’s savory scent confirmed it. Yeowon scrambled off him and fled. The man rubbed his face with a dry palm, recalling his drunken words. He’d definitely said he wanted to kill him. Yet Yeowon acted as if he’d forgotten. Slipping on a robe, the man headed to the kitchen.  

 

A tall, slender figure bustled about. The ring on Yeowon’s fourth finger caught his eye.  

 

Epilogue

 

The seasons had already turned full circle, preparing to welcome a new spring.  

 

The relentless passage of time had brought Yeowon to his mother’s first death anniversary. Dressed in a black jacket, he visited the columbarium. Placing a bouquet of flowers beside the portrait of his mother—whose sharp eyes mirrored his own—he bowed his head slightly in silent prayer. The man watched quietly as the pale nape of Yeowon’s neck, exposed above the black fabric, caught the light. Yeowon also spent a moment before the urns of his father and uncle. With relatives watching, he couldn’t bring himself to leave them unattended. The man, who had been waiting outside while smoking a cigarette, followed as Yeowon emerged.  

 

The entire way home, Yeowon kept his gaze fixed out the window. His eyes held their usual calm, his lower lips pressed together in quiet composure. The man studied his profile.  

 

Once home, Yeowon announced he was going to shower and disappeared into the bathroom. The man, reviewing documents in the study, glanced toward the shower when the sound of running water continued uninterrupted for dozens of minutes—steady, uniform. He rose from the desk.  

 

“Seo Yeowon.”  

 

No answer came from within. The man spoke again, softly but insistent.  

 

“Open the door.”  

 

“……”  

 

“You know breaking it down wouldn’t even be a challenge for me.”  

 

He considered doing just that, but then the lock clicked. The door opened slowly, revealing Yeowon’s face in the gap. His eyes were red-rimmed, his fingers fidgeting—clearly unwilling to let the man see him like this. The man almost laughed at the thought of him crying under the running water like a child.  

 

“Why were you crying?”  

 

Though dried, the remnants of emotion were still plain on Yeowon’s face. The man clicked his tongue. Yeowon didn’t answer. A tear, not fully shaken from his lashes, slipped free. He hurriedly wiped it away with the back of his hand, but it was too late—the man had already seen. The floodgates opened again. The man pulled Yeowon into his arms, fingers brushing the earlobe of this man who carried sins not his own.  

 

“Afraid of being punished?”  

 

A slight shake of the head. Yeowon’s flushed nose pressed against the man’s chest.  

 

“…No.”  

 

“Then what are you so scared of?”  

 

Hm? The man soothed him with smooth, honeyed words, his tongue tracing Yeowon’s earlobe before trailing down his neck to his chest. He took a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, teasing relentlessly until Yeowon collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.  

 

A short nap had dragged him into nightmares—something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Perhaps the visit to the columbarium had stirred something.  

 

The man loomed over him, casting a large, dark shadow. He spread Yeowon’s thighs, exposing the tight furl hidden between them. Slipping his cock free, he pushed inside. Yeowon’s body, already familiar with intrusion, clenched around him greedily. The man moved relentlessly, covering Yeowon’s trembling form with his own.  

 

“Ah—!”  

 

Finally, Yeowon’s eyes fluttered open. Dazed, he stared up at the man, awareness slowly returning. Then he realized the wetness between his legs. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushed instantly.  

 

…To do this as an adult.  

 

“Did you wet yourself again?”  

 

The crude phrasing made Yeowon’s delicate features twist in humiliation.  

 

“…I’m sorry.”  

 

Mortified at his own lack of control, he bit his lip hard enough to bruise, lashes fluttering as he searched for an escape. Finding none under the man’s gaze, he finally gave up and reached for him instead. His body, pressed close, was warmer than usual, damp skin clinging to the man’s. Pushing back Yeowon’s sweat-damp bangs, the man revealed the fine hairs along his forehead.  

 

He licked the nape of Yeowon’s neck, the downy hairs tickling his tongue.  

 

“…Hngh.”  

 

Even this slight touch made Yeowon shiver, his oversensitive body reacting sharply. The man savored each tiny hair, lapping up the sweat. This pale skin carried a sweet, intoxicating scent.  

 

“…Ah!”  

 

Behind Yeowon’s curled-up form, the man noticed the clothes strewn across the bed—two black jackets tangled together, discarded in haste.  

 

“…I’m sorry.”  

 

When no reply came, unease flickered across Yeowon’s face.  

 

“…CEO?”  

 

The man leaned close, enunciating each word deliberately against his skin.  

 

“Who do you belong to?”  

 

…T-to you, CEO Jang Ki-joo. The man smiled faintly at the breathless admission. Good. This was the right age for such dreams.  

 

Taking Yeowon’s hand—the one bearing his ring—into his mouth, the man marveled at its softness, the fingertips smooth as a baby’s from constant friction. He was the only one who knew the secrets hidden in those fingerprints. Ah, the thought alone was intoxicating.  

 

Finally, the overwhelming satisfaction of having this man wholly in his grasp filled him with a deep, viscous pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt.  

 

At last.  

 

<The End>