Chapter 41: Past the Point of Refusal

The look in his eyes as he clinked glasses and suggested they just drink was different from usual—provocative and rough.

That’s new.

Junseong whistled inwardly.

The man sitting across from him was normally impossibly blunt.

He was also scrupulously polite.

But tonight—whether it was because a few words had provoked him, or because the alcohol had gone to his head—the atmosphere he gave off was markedly different.

Junseong thought this version was more fun.

That settles it.

As he kept passing drinks to Han-geon, Junseong thought about it.

It wasn’t just the reaction he’d seen tonight.

On set, too, this softhearted manager did nothing but fawn over that impudent bastard day in and day out.

He watched Cha Eun-gyeol with such aching eyes that even Junseong, observing from the side, got sick of it.

Whenever that foul-tempered bastard threw a fit, Han-geon soothed and coaxed him like a child.

Even during filming, the moment there was a break he’d run over, tending to his actor with eyes full of genuine concern—the devotion so earnest it was like a loyal dog serving its master.

Anyone who wasn’t an idiot would notice.

Even I can see it.

And Cha Eun-gyeol, that snake-like bastard, doesn’t?

No way.

Then why pretend not to know, even if he does?

Junseong couldn’t read the depths of that pitch-black heart, but judging by how Cha Eun-gyeol flew into rages and acted deranged whenever he was with this man, it was clear his feelings were no less intense than Choi Han-geon’s.

Smiling lightly, Junseong raised a hand to take the menu.

“Beer getting old?

Want to switch it up?”

The man nodded without a word.

When Junseong asked if something strong was okay and got a yes, he deliberately ordered a whiskey with a fairly high proof.

It was about time to get to work.

What he hadn’t expected was that, surprisingly, sitting here with this manager was more enjoyable than he’d thought.

Why was that?

He was taciturn—brutally so.

He couldn’t bring himself to say it outright, but every now and then he also revealed a frighteningly large love for his actor.

There was no reason for Junseong to enjoy this time in any way.

And yet, Junseong was reaffirming his usual tastes.

The man in front of him was still very much his type.

When Han-geon had asked earlier whether Junseong liked him in that way, the head-on question had unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

He’d denied it sternly, but the truth was, it had stung a little.

Still, for now, it couldn’t be helped.

If he revealed his interest too rashly, he’d lose everything—both drawing this man to himself and dragging Cha Eun-gyeol down.

It would take time, shaping things slowly.

“Take it easy.

Cheers.”

“…Yes.”

He told him to drink slowly with his mouth, but kept handing him drinks faster and faster.

Junseong thought he could drink quite a bit himself, but Choi Han-geon was no slouch either.

An ordinary person would’ve been wobbling by now.

As he drank the strong liquor like it was nothing, Junseong glanced at the man in front of him.

Even so, with that much alcohol in him, he wasn’t unaffected.

His already broad frame seemed more swollen than usual; his breaths grew rougher, and the reddish tint on his face betrayed the creeping intoxication.

He must have been really thirsty for a drink today.

That was why he was drinking so unguardedly.

Junseong smirked inwardly, finding the big man’s sincerity both ridiculous and pitiable.

Why did you have to fall for a bastard like Cha Eun-gyeol?

Normally, it would’ve earned only a sneer—but strangely, what rose first was irritation.

It was absurd.

“Two more here.

Neat.”

“Yes.”

Amber liquid in small glasses was soon set on the table.

Perhaps the alcohol had truly hit him now; the pace at which he blinked had slowed considerably.

He lifted his glass and slowly poured it into his mouth, then let out a breath heavy with the smell of alcohol.

“…I’m going to the restroom.”

“Sure.

Go ahead.”

It was an opportunity.

The moment Han-geon rose sluggishly from the table, he lurched badly, just as Junseong had expected.

Already prepared, Junseong sprang up and grabbed his arm.

“Careful.

Are you okay?”

“…Yes.

I’m fine.”

Fine, my ass.

His gaze was dull.

His pronunciation was slurred.

Junseong quickly slid his arm under the man’s armpit.

“Let’s go together.”

“Ah—no.

I can go by myself.”

“Hurry.

You’ll fall.

And I was about to go too.”

Ignoring the mumbled refusal, he slung an arm around Han-geon’s shoulders and supported him toward the restroom.

Letting out another big sigh, Han-geon didn’t refuse anymore.

Junseong set him in front of a urinal.

Han-geon rubbed his face roughly and sighed.

Even so, it was impressive how he straightened his wobbling body.

Junseong took care of his own business beside him, repeatedly stealing glances.

No one around.

After checking, Junseong quickly began releasing his pheromones.

No matter how much he layered them, they wouldn’t completely cover that cursed Cha Eun-gyeol’s scent—but it would be enough to piss him off.

Junseong carefully, thoroughly marked the drunken man’s body as best he could.

Finished, Choi Han-geon stood at the sink with a vacant expression.

As they washed their hands side by side, the moment Han-geon turned to grab a paper towel, Junseong slipped into the gap created by his stagger.

Pretending to support him, he yanked him sharply closer.

In an instant, the thick line of the man’s neck came close to his face.

Junseong brushed his lips there as if by mistake.

With an inarticulate “uh—,” he bit down hard on the neck.

“Ah!”

“Oh— I’m so… so sorry.”

The man jolted and bowed his head repeatedly.

Though he was the one bitten painfully, he kept apologizing as if it were his fault.

Junseong had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

The mark he’d left showed beautifully—even against the dark-toned skin.

He guided the heavy Han-geon back to their table.

Once seated, Han-geon slowly pulled out his phone, then stared at the dead black screen with open resignation.

His brow furrowed on its own.

Was he waiting for a call from that bastard Cha Eun-gyeol?

As if—he was probably having a great time f*cking Lee Juwon.

Just recalling Cha Eun-gyeol’s pheromones he’d smelled all day on set made Junseong feel like throwing up.

He’d probably taken suppressants to hold out and finish filming, but by afternoon the scent had thickened so much it was hell for anyone who had to smell it.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say he couldn’t film because of it—it was too embarrassing.

So he’d forced his way through the shoot.

Thinking about it made Junseong’s fist clench.

He wanted to see Cha Eun-gyeol’s twisted face as soon as possible.

“One more drink?”

“Ah… no.

I think… I’ve had enough.

Maybe we should… get going.”

When Junseong asked with a bright smile, Choi Han-geon shook his head.

At the slow, slurred reply, Junseong smiled gently and pushed another drink.

“Come on.

You’re already here—just one more.

Yeah?”

After blinking a few times, Han-geon obediently answered yes.

Normally he would’ve refused flat-out; looks like he got softer when drunk.

Snickering inwardly, Junseong ordered another glass of the high-proof liquor he’d had earlier.

They drank three or four more like that.

After pounding several more strong drinks into a body already at its limit, the man’s body and mind slowly collapsed.

After that, there was no need to even pretend to drink together.

Junseong casually poured his liquor out, and later just drank water openly.

Han-geon was too drunk to notice.

In the end, he slumped forward and fell asleep on the table.

Smiling in satisfaction, Junseong pulled out a hangover cure from his pocket and downed it.

“Sleep well.”

Watching him quietly, Junseong reached out as if possessed.

He stroked the coarse-looking hair a couple of times.

His touch gradually moved to the nape of the neck.

The dark-toned skin was surprisingly soft.

When he boldly stroked his neck again and again, Han-geon made a low sound and shifted slightly.

Startled, Junseong pulled his hand back for a moment—then touched him again.

As he kept brushing his neck and forehead, Junseong suddenly curved his lips into a grin.

A good idea had come to him.

Originally, he’d planned to call Cha Eun-gyeol here.

But if he could make Cha Eun-gyeol even angrier, more decisively—

Junseong took out his phone, booked a nearby hotel, and called for a driver.

He tapped Han-geon’s body across the table a few times.

After confirming he was completely out cold, he hoisted and supported him.

The muscle-packed body was so heavy he had to grit his teeth.

He barely managed to get Han-geon into the back seat.

After checking in at the hotel, he dragged him up to the room.

Tossing Han-geon onto the bed, Junseong lay down beside him, catching his breath.

He’d nearly died from the effort.

Now, it was showtime.

With a delighted expression, Junseong took out his phone.

He called Cha Eun-gyeol, but there was no answer.

He’d expected that—he was probably in the middle of things.

Still, it’d be nice if he came right now.

Meeting him face to face while he was raging would be far more effective.

“Hope he throws weak punches… that crazy bastard wouldn’t actually smash my face too badly, right?”

Muttering, Junseong touched his own face.

He planned to get beaten up as badly as possible by Cha Eun-gyeol today, then immediately go to a doctor he knew to get a medical report.

‘Top Actor Cha Eun-gyeol Assaults Fellow Actor Yoo Junseong’

Just imagining the headline made his whole body tingle.

“f*ck—why aren’t you picking up?”

He ended the call, grumbling.

His gaze drifted to Han-geon’s right pants pocket, bulging conspicuously.

He slyly pulled out the phone and tried to turn it on, but it wouldn’t light up at all—apparently dead.

Then there was another way.

Junseong pressed his lips to Han-geon’s neck once more, then took a photo of Han-geon sprawled on the bed with his own phone.

After sending it to Eun-gyeol, he hummed and waited for the call.

Absurdly, the Cha Eun-gyeol who hadn’t answered at all called back within a minute.

“Sunbae, it’s me.

Yoo Junseong.”

—You f*cking bastard, where the hell are you?

The growling, beast-like voice was pleasant to hear.

Wearing a leisurely smile, Junseong recited the hotel’s name.