Chapter 42: Marks

The moment his eyelids opened, a horrible sensation rushed in.

A vicious hangover.

It felt as if someone were stabbing both his temples with an awl as hard as they could.

Thankfully, it wasn’t the kind of hangover that brought on nausea, but the pounding headache alone was painful enough to be unbearable.

A groan slipped out on its own. “Ugh…” He pressed his head hard as he let out a miserable sound.

Outside the window, the sky looked washed out and pale.

…Where am I?

The alcohol fog vanished in an instant.

It looked like a hotel, but not the familiar place near the filming site.

Then…

The fragmented flow of memories slowly began to surface one by one.

Filming.

Cha Eun-gyeol’s rut.

The drive up to Seoul.

Juwon’s van he’d seen at the hotel.

Yoo Junseong’s call, and the two of them going to a bar together to drink.

Up to that point, everything came back without much trouble.

The problem was what came after.

He remembered suggesting beer, trading one glass for another, and ending up drinking quite a lot.

Then switching to a different kind of alcohol, drinking whatever was offered, thinking Junseong could really hold his liquor…

Why does it only go that far?

A chill ran down his spine.

Why was he lying alone in a hotel room like this?

Then where was Yoo Junseong?

Come to think of it, there had been a sound tapping faintly at his ears for a while now—one he’d brushed off in his panic.

It was the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Which meant Junseong was still here.

“Ha… f*ck.”

Han-geon groaned, pressing his head hard with one hand.

Had he done something wrong?

Something embarrassing?

He remembered Junseong casually asking about his relationship with Eun-gyeol yesterday.

But he’d clearly denied it.

That memory, at least, was crystal clear.

He probably hadn’t made a mistake about that with Junseong.

Everything else… everything else, honestly, he had no idea.

He couldn’t remember anything at all.

When Junseong came out after showering, he should ask if he’d done anything out of line.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the type to get rude when drunk.

He wanted to believe he hadn’t committed any major faux pas.

First, he needed to pull himself together.

When he unsteadily pushed himself upright, his vision still swayed slightly.

He noticed a sink outside the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and splashed his face.

He tidied up his disheveled appearance, tore open a disposable toothbrush, and brushed his teeth.

Still dizzy, he barely made it back and sat on the bed.

That was when the bathroom door flew open.

The moment he saw the person walking out, Han-geon froze in place.

“Cha… Eun-gyeol?”

Even if the Grim Reaper himself had walked out, he wouldn’t have been this shocked.

With a completely stunned expression, Han-geon stared at Eun-gyeol’s face as he approached.

But Eun-gyeol wasn’t heading toward the foot of the bed where Han-geon sat.

Wearing a shower robe, he strode straight to the table and opened the bottle of wine sitting there.

He poured the red liquid into a glass and took a small sip.

Han-geon could only stare blankly at Eun-gyeol’s pale, shifting throat.

After taking a couple of sips, Eun-gyeol slowly turned his head.

In stark contrast to the flush coloring his face, his eyes gleamed sharply, as if honed with a chisel.

“Why are you so surprised?”

Eun-gyeol lifted the corners of his lips beautifully.

“Disappointed it’s not that bastard Yoo Junseong?”

Despite the picture-perfect smile, Han-geon could tell instantly.

Cha Eun-gyeol’s mood right now wasn’t just bad—it was rock bottom.

“That’s… that’s not it.”

The words came out stupidly broken.

“Y-you… why are you… why are you here?”

“Why.

Is it a problem if I’m here?”

The clink of the glass being set on the table sounded like a verdict.

“Huh?

Han-geon.

Is it really a problem if I’m here?”

As Eun-gyeol approached one step at a time, Han-geon swallowed dryly without realizing it.

The fingers braced on the bed clenched nervously into the sheets.

He hadn’t committed some grave sin, but the Eun-gyeol standing there with all expression erased was, honestly, terrifying.

“That’s not what I mean… you definitely went to a hotel yesterday because of your rut.”

“Hotel.”

Eun-gyeol raised an eyebrow slightly.

He rolled his tongue lazily inside his mouth before speaking.

“I did.

But I couldn’t focus at all.

Other thoughts kept popping up.”

His lips curved upward refreshingly, but his gaze sank endlessly cold.

“…What kind of—”

“Mm.”

Eun-gyeol let out a low hum, a mischievous look crossing his face.

“I was wondering what our Han-geon might be doing around now.”

“…”

“Whether you were messing around with some other guy or something.”

Their eyes met as Eun-gyeol smiled playfully.

The thickly tangled gaze felt like it was yanking Han-geon’s body toward him.

His body actually flinched.

Han-geon bit his lip and discreetly hid the hand clutching the sheets.

Eun-gyeol moved.

He stepped right up in front of him and reached out.

Long, pale fingers slowly came to rest against Han-geon’s neck.

The touch was persistent, rubbing slowly as if trying to wipe something off.

It was uncomfortable, nauseating for reasons he couldn’t explain.

Yet Han-geon couldn’t bring himself to swat the hand away.

After rubbing over his neck and collarbone several times, Eun-gyeol spoke.

“What should I do, Han-geon?”

“…”

“I really can’t stand seeing my manager rolling around with the guy I hate the most.”

Han-geon’s eyes flew open.

A realization slammed into the back of his head.

So that was why Eun-gyeol was this angry.

“What? …What are you even talking about?

Do you seriously think I slept with Yoo— Yoo Junseong?”

Flustered, his voice cracked stupidly.

Han-geon shook his head frantically.

That was absurd.

No matter how things looked…

“You’re misunderstanding.

I didn’t do anything with him—!”

“Anything?”

Eun-gyeol’s crooked smile felt unfamiliar.

He gently cupped Han-geon’s face with both hands, then turned him toward the vanity mirror.

“Look in the mirror, Han-geon.”

“…What?”

“Look at yourself.”

He turned his head as guided.

In the mirror was a man with a vacant, idiotic expression.

Han-geon’s eyes widened when he saw the ugly marks scattered across his neck.

The blotchy, uneven traces—no matter how much he tried to deny it—were unmistakably the kind that invited indecent imagination.

“W-what is this?

This—I don’t… I don’t know about this!”

“f*ck, Han-geon… I feel sick to my stomach just looking at you.”

The emotion filling Eun-gyeol’s face as he spat the words out was nothing but disgust.

“That bastard’s pheromones are practically radiating off you right now.”

“…What?

What are you—”

Without realizing it, Han-geon grabbed at his clothes and sniffed.

No matter how much he tried, all he could smell was faint detergent.

He didn’t even have the presence of mind to realize how foolish he was being—he couldn’t possibly smell pheromones himself.

“Yoo Junseong marked you like some territory-claiming mutt, smeared all over you.”

“Th-this… I don’t know.

I don’t—”

“Han-geon.”

The cold voice cut off Han-geon’s rambling, lost words.

“I should come first.”

Eun-gyeol’s finger reached out again.

When it pressed sharply against his chest, Han-geon flinched and straightened.

“Above everything else—my mood, my condition, my preferences.

Those should come first for you.

Right?

Aren’t they?”

The finger resting lightly on his chest suddenly pressed down hard.

“That’s why you’re by my side in the first place.”

“…..”

“But if you’re lying in the same hotel room as a guy I hate that much, what am I supposed to do?

Huh?

Do you think I could relax enough to deal with my rut or not?”

With nothing he could say, Han-geon only parted his lips soundlessly.

But the soft voice that followed froze his thoughts completely.

“Are you really my manager?

Someone who actually thinks about me?”

In that instant, something hot surged violently inside him.

Cha Eun-gyeol knew nothing.

Nothing about how he’d driven him to the hotel last night with what kind of feelings.

Nothing about how he’d felt seeing Juwon’s van entering the hotel.

Nothing about how he’d felt on the drive back to the company.

He knew absolutely nothing.

None of that mattered.

He was used to hiding his feelings from Cha Eun-gyeol.

It was only natural that Eun-gyeol didn’t know how he felt.

And because he didn’t know, it made sense that he’d corner him like this.

It was unbearably unfair, but even if Eun-gyeol suspected and blamed him over Yoo Junseong, that wasn’t what mattered right now.

Once emotions cooled down later, he could clear up the misunderstanding.

But being accused—by Eun-gyeol himself—of putting him second, as a manager, no, as a human being, was something he couldn’t endure.

It was something he never wanted to hear from Cha Eun-gyeol.

No—those words should never have come out of his mouth.

Not from anyone else, and especially not from Cha Eun-gyeol.

It felt like being denied wholesale.

The wish he’d built while looking at Cha Eun-gyeol alone.

The countless moments he’d cycled through joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure over his feelings before finally accepting them in resignation.

The feeling of stamping out burning flames again and again.

The seventeen years he’d spent holding his breath at Eun-gyeol’s side, terrified of being found out.

No—his very existence as Choi Han-geon felt like it was crumbling into dust at a single sentence from Cha Eun-gyeol.

The mouth he’d kept shut like an idiot finally opened on its own.

“…Stop pushing it.

Just because you have a private life as an actor doesn’t mean I don’t have one too.”

His low voice sounded unfamiliar, even to himself.

In his entire life, he’d never spoken to Eun-gyeol like this—not even once.

Eun-gyeol lifted his eyebrow slightly and scoffed.

“Go on.”

“You get to roll around with someone else in a hotel room, but I’m not allowed to?”

The fist that had been gripping the sheets all this time loosened.

He stared back at the face looking down at him arrogantly.

A blazing red fire was boiling up in his chest.

“Fine.

Let’s say I slept with Yoo Junseong.

So what.

What does that have to do with you?

You—”

“Han-geon.”

Eun-gyeol cut him off, his tone colder than ever.

“I get that you want to say whatever comes to mind right now.”

“…..”

“But if you’re going to keep spouting that kind of bullshit, you’d better shut up.”

“Why should I?

You’re the one who should shut up.”

Once the emotions boiled over, there was no reining them in.

Just like Eun-gyeol, who looked completely out of his mind, Han-geon was the same.

He knew it was spiraling out of control—but he couldn’t stop.

Then, with a single sentence, Eun-gyeol slammed Han-geon by the nape straight to the ground.

“You like me, don’t you, Choi Han-geon.”