Chapter 36: Short Fuse

“…Eun-gyeol?”

Han-geon and Junseong turned toward the entrance of the fitness center at the same time.

Eun-gyeol, dressed in workout clothes, was walking in with an expressionless face.

Han-geon’s eyes widened.

“Wh–why are you up at this hour…?”

“I came thinking we could work out together.”

Turns out you were hanging around with something unpleasant.

At the calmly added remark, Han-geon inwardly panicked and shot a quick glance at Junseong, but Junseong looked completely unfazed.

The flicker of surprise on his face quickly disappeared, and instead he greeted Eun-gyeol crisply.

“Good morning, sunbae.”

“Looks like you changed your strategy this time.”

It was hard to read the meaning behind Eun-gyeol’s words.

He walked over slowly and stopped right in front of Junseong.

“What, were you trying to blow some empty wind at my manager again?

And turns out he’s your type?”

“Sunbae, I honestly don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Junseong shrugged, looking genuinely confused.

Han-geon couldn’t make sense of it either.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at acting.”

Eun-gyeol let out a short laugh.

At a glance, it was a smile beautiful beyond measure.

“I’m warning you.”

“…”

“Don’t pull any bullshit with what’s mine, you f*cking bastard.”

The bomb dropped in a low, gentle voice.

At the same time, Han-geon’s eyes and mouth flew wide open.

He’d never imagined Eun-gyeol would suddenly swear like that.

There wasn’t even time to stop him.

“If you keep approaching Choi Han-geon privately, I won’t let it slide.

This is the last warning I’m giving you verbally.”

It was a hair-trigger moment.

The atmosphere tightened instantly, like a bowstring pulled taut.

The two stood face-to-face in silence.

It felt like things could devolve into a fistfight at any second.

Han-geon’s heart pounded noisily.

He clenched his fist, slick with cold sweat.

“Hey, hey, Eun-gyeol!

What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?

Stop—let’s stop.”

Han-geon, his face drained of color, clung to Eun-gyeol.

Neither of them could even question what the hell this was about.

Stopping the fight came first.

He wrapped an arm around Eun-gyeol’s shoulder and whispered urgently into his ear.

“Please.

Please stop.

Don’t fight.

Okay?

Please.”

His voice came out pitiful, almost begging.

But that didn’t matter right now.

Noticing a faint crack appear in Eun-gyeol’s rigid expression, Han-geon grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the exit.

“Let’s go.

Let’s go back to the room.

Eun-gyeol, come shower with me, okay?”

“Hah.”

Eun-gyeol looked at Han-geon as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

His eyebrow twitched sharply.

Han-geon had no idea which words had set him off.

Hesitating only a moment, he grabbed Eun-gyeol’s arm again and dragged him toward the exit.

Getting out of here came first.

The elevator doors opened.

Han-geon shoved Eun-gyeol inside and stepped in after him.

Only then did a deep breath burst up from his abdomen.

He realized belatedly that he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

Eun-gyeol shook off the hand gripping his arm and brushed back the bangs that had fallen over his forehead.

His sharp gaze turned on Han-geon this time.

“Choi Han-geon.

If you ever meet that bastard privately—ever—”

“What are you talking about?

Why are you suddenly acting like this?

Huh?”

The words he’d been holding back finally exploded out.

The two stood glaring at each other in the elevator.

Eun-gyeol let out a short, humorless laugh and ran his tongue over his dry lips.

His eyes were faintly bloodshot.

He chewed on a curse and spat the words out with a look of pure disgust, as if he couldn’t stand the filth.

“That bastard likes you.”

“…What?”

Han-geon froze with his mouth open.

“Wh–what are you even talking about?”

“Can’t you tell just by looking?

f*ck, it’s written all over his eyes that he wants to f*ck you.”

Han-geon frowned at the vulgar words.

None of this made sense.

No matter how heated things got, that was an absurd accusation.

“What are you talking about?

He never said anything like that!

Earlier he said he didn’t even know what you meant!”

“Ha.”

Eun-gyeol’s broad chest heaved sharply as he let out a rough breath.

His unfiltered eyes looked down at Han-geon lazily.

“So you believe that bastard over me?”

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Yoo Junseong, that rat fucker’s trying to drag me down—”

At that moment, the elevator doors opened and a voice cut in.

“Cha-cha!”

“I was just about to head up—oh?

Han-geon, you’re here too?”

“…Ah, hello, noona.”

“Huh… what?

What are you two doing?”

Yujin stepped into the elevator with her usual bright expression, then paused.

She must have felt the hostile tension immediately.

After all, they were only one step away from grabbing each other by the collar—there was no way she wouldn’t notice.

Han-geon forced a smile and waved his hands quickly.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

“No it’s not.

Something’s going on.

Cha-cha, what happened—”

“Noona.”

His voice was flat, stripped of emotion.

His expression matched.

Still, the air froze instantly.

“My head’s pounding.

Be quiet.”

Yujin’s mouth opened and closed once before she fell silent.

It was completely different from her usual easygoing, teasing demeanor.

Still, she seemed somewhat used to this side of Eun-gyeol.

Han-geon, who’d been standing there stiffly, hurried to smooth things over.

“Uh… noona.

You were on your way to our room, right…?”

“…Oh.

Yeah.

We have makeup—today the director asked to start early and go long.

Didn’t you get the message?”

“Ah.”

He hurriedly dug out his phone.

Sure enough, there was a missed call from the on-site staff.

It had come in five minutes ago—they’d been in the middle of chaos and he’d missed it.

“I’m sorry.

I just saw it.”

“It’s fine.

You’re not late or anything.

So… can we start now?”

For once, she asked cautiously.

She was already holding her makeup case.

Han-geon gently wrapped an arm around Eun-gyeol’s shoulder.

“…Eun-gyeol.

Let’s do makeup first.

We can talk later.”

Eun-gyeol stared at him for a moment, then let out a short sigh.

Without a word, he stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the room.

Watching his back, Han-geon gently guided Yujin along.

“I’m sorry, noona.

I made things awkward.”

“I’m fine.

But did something happen between you two?”

“Uh… no.

Well.

Just a little.”

As they followed behind Eun-gyeol into the room, the two whispered quietly.

Despite Han-geon’s vague answer, Yujin nodded as if she understood.

Once inside, she casually opened her kit.

“Seems like they want to shoot as much as possible before Eun-gyeol’s rut.

That’s why they moved the call time up.”

“Ah… then noona, I’ll go wash up quickly.”

“Mm-hm.”

As Yujin picked up her tools and explained, Han-geon pretended not to hear the word pressing down on his chest and hurried toward the bathroom.

To make it to work without issues, he needed to move fast.

Any conversation with Eun-gyeol would have to wait until after they wrapped.

***

His eyes slid open.

The familiar pre-dawn sky outside the window came into view first.

Han-geon groped around near the pillow for his watch.

It wasn’t even time for his alarm yet.

This had been happening more often since coming here.

Maybe it was work-related tension—he kept waking up a few minutes before the alarm.

Still lying on his side, Han-geon blinked slowly.

The thoughts that had been chaotically tearing through his head all day yesterday remained unresolved.

He’d meant to talk with Eun-gyeol after work, but filming had dragged on late into the night, leaving no opportunity.

From the moment they returned, Eun-gyeol had silently read his script until going to bed, radiating such a cold air that Han-geon hadn’t dared start a conversation.

In the end, he’d lain there alone, thinking about this and that, until sleep overtook him.

Strategy.

Empty wind.

Type.

The words Eun-gyeol had thrown at Junseong yesterday.

Eun-gyeol had never hidden his hostility toward Junseong before—but he’d also never hurled such vicious curses.

“…No way.”

Han-geon exhaled softly and muttered inwardly.

A thought he’d once brushed past resurfaced.

A possibility he’d briefly considered, then immediately discarded while mocking himself.

Why would a popular actor and alpha like him like someone like me—a mere manager, a beta?

He’d dismissed it as ridiculous speculation.

But after turning it over in his mind all day yesterday, small doubts had begun to sprout.

If that wasn’t the case, then what had Junseong’s consistent attention and friendliness toward him, right from their first meeting, meant?

Could it be—just as Eun-gyeol said—that Junseong really did…

“…Stop it.”

He consciously cut off the thought.

They said you can know the depths of water but never the depths of a person’s heart.

No matter how much he speculated on his own, he couldn’t know Junseong’s feelings—whether he liked him or not.

What he really wanted to know was Eun-gyeol’s heart.

If Eun-gyeol was right—if Junseong truly did like him—was that really something worth getting that angry over?

Angry enough to lash out like that?

There was no need to think deeply about that either.

Because Han-geon was Eun-gyeol’s closest friend.

Because he was his manager.

Because, for reasons he didn’t fully understand, Eun-gyeol hated that man so much that even the idea of someone close to him being emotionally involved with him was unacceptable.

Eun-gyeol’s possessiveness hadn’t faded with time—if anything, it had grown stronger.

Someone who must never cross the line he’d drawn.

Someone who must never touch him.

Yet someone who had to orbit him constantly, like a satellite.

Someone who had to quietly protect the person he loved, pretending not to hear words like “Just imagining doing it with a big guy makes me f*cking sick.”

Someone who also must never, ever come into contact with anyone Eun-gyeol disliked.

That person was him.

“f*cking doormat.

Spineless bastard.

Idiot, moron, dumbass…”

After hurling curses at himself, Han-geon eventually stopped, exhausted even by that.

The same insults he’d been repeating for seventeen years no longer hurt him.

Or maybe they never had in the first place.

“Should I go work out…”

He hesitated at the thought of running into Junseong at the fitness center again.

Maybe he’d just run along the walking trail around the hotel instead.

As he started to get up—

Something felt off.

Before his mind could process what was different, instinct and intuition struck his skin first.

As he twisted his body in the opposite direction from where he’d been lying and started to sit up, Han-geon sucked in a breath.

“…Hhk.”

Eun-gyeol’s face—eyes blazing—was right behind him.