HPK 92

“Give it to me!”

Wooseung got off the sofa completely and hurried over to Taejung.

“What the fuck. Who are you.”

Perhaps the person on the other end reacted sensitively to a call from an unknown number, because Taejung suddenly swore.

“Who the hell are you.”

“Really, why are you doing this…!”

“Me? I’m Eom Taejung.”

Taejung wrapped an arm around Wooseung’s shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug. He held him so he could not move an inch and brazenly continued the call.

The other side of the phone, which had been filled with loud shouts, suddenly went quiet. The person, upon hearing the name Eom Taejung, had faltered and backed down. It was only natural. The name Eom Taejung was uncommon, and since the other person was a player who worked at Kirin, he could not possibly not know Taejung. From across the phone, a flustered voice could be heard asking, “Uh… Is this President?”

Only then, seeming to think that the person really was a player, did Taejung arbitrarily hang up the phone with a click.

“It’s him, right? A player.”

His smooth lips drew a cool smile that did not fit the situation.

“For a second there, I thought, fuck, you were managing a client.”

“……”

“Can’t break old habits. Huh?”

He let go of Wooseung, whom he had been hugging, and pinched his plump cheek, not hard enough to hurt.

“…I never managed clients in the first place.”

Wooseung mumbled as he caught the phone Taejung had tossed at him with both hands. No matter the circumstances, how could he just make a call from someone else’s phone? He doubted if Taejung had any common sense at all. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it was.

“Why would you just use someone else’s phone without permission…”

“I bought it for you, so it’s not entirely your phone.”

It was a dirty and petty remark, but it was not wrong.

“……”

Wooseung looked down blankly at the phone in his hand. Taejung, who had thrown his phone after seeing Seohyun’s text, had bought him a new one that very day. It was the same as before, but it was the Pro model, had more storage, and was the same color as Taejung’s phone.

So, even when Taejung was handling his phone, Wooseung could not easily tell whether it was his own or Taejung’s.

It was true he bought it, but to rub it in like that. He wanted to argue that once you give something, it is over, but with the other person acting so shamelessly, his will to do so vanished, or perhaps it would be better to say he felt completely drained.

“…Are you going to work?”

So he just changed the subject.

“Yeah. Gotta make money. To pay off your debt.”

At a glance, it was a truly cringe-worthy thing to say. Wooseung rubbed the cheek Taejung had pinched with his palm and wiggled his toes. A chill rose from the marble floor, exposed to the cold air from the air conditioner.

He trailed after Taejung, who was heading to the entrance, lost in thought. Chanil had said it was a needless worry, and joked that they should hit Park Hyojun once when he comes back to Korea, so why was his own heart still churning with such anxiety?

Was it because Hyojun was not answering his calls or replying to his texts?

‘I’m in constant contact with him, so you don’t really need to worry. He was probably too busy to even have a chance to call.’

At the voice that suddenly came to mind, Wooseung’s head snapped up.

“Can I go too?”

He asked impulsively. Taejung, who had been checking his reflection in the mirror and sweeping his hair back, turned to look this way. His eyes slowly scanned Wooseung’s clear face.

“Do you even know where I’m going.”

Taejung, who he thought would readily agree, asked a question instead of giving permission. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stood at a slant.

“Aren’t you going to the club?”

“I’ve got more than one or two clubs.”

“Ah…”

It did not matter where he was going. Wherever Taejung went, Hoonyeong would naturally be there. Wooseung planned to ask him about Hyojun. His old phone had Hoonyeong’s number, but the new phone Taejung bought had a brand new SIM card, so he did not have Hoonyeong’s number. It was rare for Hoonyeong to come to this house, so he had to go and meet him in person.

“I’m bored being home alone…”

“You were playing so hard to get, saying you were tired.”

Wooseung licked his lower lip and took a step closer to Taejung.

“Can’t I?”

Considering he had asked, ‘Wanna come over if you’re bored?’ last time, he had figured Taejung would easily permit it… But Taejung was just staring at him with a sullen face, as if thinking, ‘What kind of trick is this now.’ The word of permission was not forthcoming.

“Uh… I can’t?”

“……”

“Can I not, Taejung-ah…”

In the end, he ditched the formal speech he had been using all along and used clumsy informal language. It felt very awkward, as it did not stick to his tongue, but it was a small price to pay to get Taejung’s permission.

“……”

As expected, Taejung flinched like a person who had been unexpectedly attacked. His ears, exposed under the bright light, turned a faint red. That was also brief; perhaps thinking he looked quite unsightly, he retorted fiercely, “Come with me then, fuck.”

He turned around and roughly opened the front door, then suddenly whipped his head back. Beyond him, he could see Junseok waiting for Taejung.

“Not those clothes.”

“Pardon?”

“Wear something else. Something else.”

The clothes Wooseung wore as loungewear were a loose short-sleeved t-shirt and shorts that revealed his knees.

“……”

Wooseung hesitated for a moment. He was worried Taejung might just leave while he went to change his clothes. So he lightly grabbed the hem of his clothes.

“Don’t go first…”

“Ah, shit.”

Taejung roughly shook off Wooseung’s hand from his clothes and snapped at him to hurry up and change. Pat, pat, his slippered feet quickly left the entryway.

As Taejung was roughly messing up his hair, Junseok, who was standing blankly in the hallway, came into his view.

“Fuck, what, what are you looking at.”

As he spat out a fierce curse, Junseok flinched and lowered his head.

Taejung slammed the door, bang, and stood with his back against it. The back of his neck was hot and flushed, which annoyed him, so he scrubbed it with his palm. But the heat did not subside easily.

Foxy bastard. The way he gestured, the way he moved, the way he spoke—he made a person feel like shit with such trivial things. He wondered if everyone who sold their bodies was like that, but then the thought that Wooseung had sold his body made his head grow hot.

“Shit!”

He stopped rubbing his face dryly and, in a sudden fit of anger, kicked the shoe cabinet with a loud thump.

‘Men, ugh, I meant it was my first time with a man…!’

His solar plexus cried out with a dull pain, as if he had been hit hard with a fist. He even heard tinnitus that could not possibly be there, and finally, the moment his vision turned crimson, a terrible burning sensation surged up from the tips of his toes.

Taejung ground his teeth, remembering the sensation from that time. The more he thought about it, the more pissed off he got, so he was trying his damnedest not to think about it intentionally, but it would ambush him out of the blue like this.

It would appear at all sorts of moments: when Wooseung smiled with a blank face, when his eyes turned sharp as if he were upset, when he hesitated as if he had something to say, when he used clumsy informal speech—only to be startled and flee from the violent kicks inside his head.

Just then, from a distance, the sound of footsteps echoed, pat, pat. They were getting closer. Taejung focused his gaze, thinking he would not let Wooseung, who had thrown him into this mire, get away with it. But…

“You didn’t leave.”

Wooseung, who appeared around the corner, smiled gently. He had been worried he would leave, he said, a faint smile gracing his lips.

The slightly flushed cheeks, the plump skin under his eyes, the softly curved corners of his mouth, the small teeth that appeared and disappeared between his lips.

‘There’s no music. They just look the prettiest, that’s all.’

Taejung’s heart dropped with a thump, then started beating again. Slowly, but clearly, thump, thump.

The heartbeat, pounding as if it would break his bones, was something he had no control over. It was a memory that ambushed him out of nowhere, a heat that rose up, a feeling that tickled his fingertips.

Taejung powerlessly faced the unfamiliar sensation that dominated his entire body.

From the moment he got in the car, Wooseung wondered when Taejung, who was staring at him intently, would speak. Just as they were leaving the bridge sparkling with the night view, he finally opened his mouth.

“You, that…”

However, his words did not reach their end and scattered inconclusively.

“……”

Taejung swiped his mouth once and obsessively rubbed his jawline below his ear. He had been doing that ever since they left the house. Wooseung wondered if something had happened to him during the short time he had left the entrance to change clothes. Otherwise, there was no way a person’s face could suddenly become so serious.

“……”

It seemed Taejung had no intention of continuing his broken sentence. An impenetrable silence continued, making the fact that he had opened his mouth at all feel pointless. Wooseung turned his head back to the window. As he followed the blurring lights, an unexpected question flew at him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re pretty?”

Wooseung could not hide his bewildered face as he looked at him. When he just stared at him, unable to understand the intent of the question, Taejung pressed for an answer.

“Have they or haven’t they.”

He thought about it for a short time. Why would he ask such a question?

But nothing particular came to mind. Wooseung gently shook his head.

“They haven’t, right?”

At that, Taejung broke into a cool smile as if he had been waiting for it. With a face that said, ‘I knew it.’

“……”

In truth, his ex-girlfriend used to say it to him every day, but he decided it was not worth saying and ruining the mood, so he swallowed the words.