Chapter 54: Too Late

The spark of carelessness he’d tossed aside so lightly finally returned as a flame and burned bright.
Even while holding an omega, he couldn’t focus on the act at all.
He tried again and again to immerse himself, but it was useless.
His mood and condition only kept sinking lower and lower.

The flame soon became an uncontrollable blaze.
Throughout the entire act, only one face surfaced in his mind.

Han-geon, looking at him like a rain-soaked puppy in the hotel parking lot.
After driving him all the way there, Han-geon had called out to him right before he went inside.
And then just stared at him in silence.
As if he desperately wanted to say something.

What had Han-geon been trying to say to him?

He didn’t know.
Because Eun-gyeol had stopped him from speaking first.
Like a loyal, pitiful mutt, Han-geon accepted the unspoken dismissal Eun-gyeol gave him.
It must have hurt, but in the end he complied and left.
After that, they’d both turned away, so Eun-gyeol never saw his expression.

Was he really upset?
Probably.

That thought lingered the entire time.
In the end, even Juwon asked if something was wrong.
No, nothing’s wrong.
He brushed her off like that and stared blankly at the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
He himself hadn’t broken a sweat yet.
Just as he leaned toward her again, his movement came to a dead stop.

“…..”

A small sigh slipped out.
No matter how he looked at it, this was hopeless.

Truly—there was no way he could continue this hollow, empty act.
Whenever rut came, he’d always gone through the motions mechanically, but tonight it felt unbearably unfamiliar and futile.
In the end, Eun-gyeol slowly picked up his clothes and put them on.

“Sorry.”

He offered Juwon a brief apology.
Leaving her behind with an expression she clearly didn’t understand, he walked out of the hotel.
Without any calculation, his feet carried him straight to Choi Han-geon’s place.
He just wanted to go to that space steeped in Han-geon’s scent.

Even as he called a taxi and rode there, he hesitated again and again.
What if he went to Han-geon and did something irreversible?
Luckily, thanks to having just been in contact with an omega, he’d barely managed to avoid turning into a beast in heat.

This state wouldn’t last long.
In truth, because he hadn’t progressed far enough in the act to actually release the heat, the coiled sexual desire lurking inside him like a black snake would soon raise its head.

Still, as always, the decision was made selfishly.
He just wanted to see Choi Han-geon.
If he didn’t see that face right now, he felt like he’d be swallowed by dark, nameless desire, resentment, and agitation.
So he decided to just go see him.
He wouldn’t think too deeply about what came after.

He called several times on the way, but each time all he got was the message that the phone couldn’t be reached, as if the battery had died.
Han-geon usually managed his battery well—maybe he’d thought there’d be no need to contact anyone tonight.
He must have been pretty hurt too.

If only he could go to that house right now and breathe in Han-geon’s scent.
If only he could lie on the sofa like usual, resting his head on Han-geon’s lap…
He could easily let a few unanswered calls slide.

But—

“…..”

Inside the house, which he entered as naturally as ever, there was no sign of anyone.
Where had he gone?
Nothing came to mind.

Still, the scent lingering in the house stopped him from doing anything worse.
The dark desire that had pretended to sleep quietly raised its head again.
Yeah—maybe it was for the best that Han-geon wasn’t home.
If he had been here, what would have happened after that…

He sat down on the sofa, hurriedly undid his pants, and pulled his cock out.
Just lightly stroking it a few times sent stimulation bursting inside his abdomen like fireworks.
Impatiently jerking his hand, he reached out without thinking.
What he grabbed was a piece of clothing Han-geon had casually left tossed on the sofa.

Without a shred of guilt, purely following instinct, Eun-gyeol brought Han-geon’s T-shirt to his nose.
It always smelled strongly of detergent mixed with a man’s scent.
And f*ck—why was that so obscenely arousing.
He felt like he’d cum the moment he inhaled.

As his hand moved, the face that had haunted him the entire time at the hotel naturally surfaced.
What had been the words Han-geon swallowed, looking like he was about to cry?
He hadn’t shed tears, but he’d been crying while staring at Eun-gyeol.
With a blank face, he must have been screaming inside.

Thinking of that face made the hardness below intensify even more.
It wasn’t so much that his chest hurt—it tingled.
It wasn’t sympathy for Han-geon’s pain, or pity.

Rather, a thrilling sense of satisfaction welled up.
At the fact that Han-geon liked him that much.
That even in such a humiliating situation, he endured it silently, like a tongue inside Eun-gyeol’s mouth.
That after driving him to the hotel, he turned away carrying the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

The moment he thought of Han-geon’s affection and loyalty toward him, an indescribable shiver tore through his entire body.

“Haah, …kh—”

He hadn’t even stroked himself that many times, yet pre-cum spilled out ridiculously easily.
At the hotel, no matter how hard he tried, it hadn’t worked—but it was possible with just one T-shirt soaked in Han-geon’s scent.

The rational thread in his pitch-black mind had grown infinitely thin.
He spread the semen scattered on the T-shirt evenly, smearing it in.
Brazenly marking his territory.

Once he finished, self-mockery came crashing down on him like it had been waiting.

“Haha, f*ck…”

A hollow laugh escaped him.
Eun-gyeol muttered like that while rubbing his face again and again.
Even so, he still couldn’t believe it.
This ridiculous, absurd reality.
The source of this desire he was so vividly feeling.

That he’d stopped in the middle of sleeping with an omega and run all the way here because his seventeen-year friend was on his mind—no, because he wanted to see him.
And then ended up jerking off alone in that friend’s empty house.

Self-reproach and self-loathing didn’t last long inside his body, which was still heating up in real time.
Leaving the T-shirt tossed carelessly on the sofa, he slowly got to his feet.

He’d thought it was a good thing that Han-geon wasn’t here just five minutes ago, yet his thoughts had flipped completely.
He couldn’t restrain the desire swelling up to his throat.
No matter what happened, he felt like he’d die if he didn’t get Han-geon in front of him first.

He had to meet Choi Han-geon right now.

Whatever happened after that could be dealt with later.
Right now, he needed to see him.

He pulled out his phone and called again.
Still, only that same f*cking automated message played over and over, saying the call couldn’t be completed.
He tried to suppress the rage surging in his chest.
He took deep breaths again and again, but the roiling emotions only grew more violent, like crashing waves.

Not answering his phone.
Not at home.

He didn’t like it.
No—that wasn’t strong enough.
He wanted to smash anything and everything.
Until Han-geon appeared in front of him, he wanted to trample everything around him into ruin.

But barging into someone else’s house, cumming on their clothes, and then going on a rampage was too much, even for him.
At that moment, the line between beast and human was paper-thin for Eun-gyeol.
He had to force himself to hold back.
To avoid destroying Han-geon’s precious space—this space that was precious to him as well.

Where could he have gone?
He rummaged through his mind, which was burning chaotically.
Possible answers burst out at random.
Middle school friends.
High school friends.
College classmates.
Former coworkers…

Of course, Eun-gyeol himself had plenty of people who would come if he called.
Still, when he wanted to rest the most, the only person he sought out was Choi Han-geon.
But Han-geon, unlike him, was a benevolent humanitarian overflowing with love for humanity—
on a gloomy night like this, there were probably a damn lot of people he could call.

Then, an animalistic instinct picked out one name from among them.

Yoo Junseong.

There was no way that rat bastard would miss an opportunity like this.
The timing was perfect for making a move.
Hadn’t the two of them even talked about Eun-gyeol’s rut while working out together last time?
Senior Eun-gyeol probably won’t come out, Yoo Junseong had said in that disgusting voice.

He couldn’t care less about whatever trash Yoo Junseong might be saying about him.
Han-geon knew exactly what kind of person he was—there was no way that kind of thing would work on him.
There was one other problem, far more irritating than that.

The fact that Yoo Junseong liked Choi Han-geon.
The bastard denied it, but anyone who wasn’t an idiot could tell from his behavior.
And to make matters worse, their pure, naive Choi Han-geon had optimistically insisted that couldn’t be the case.

His teeth ground together.
If his guess was right, even grinding Yoo Junseong up and drinking him wouldn’t be enough.
He pulled out his phone and searched for the number of that scheming son of a b*tch.

As expected, the number was blocked.
Back when Yoo Junseong had first started pestering him, he’d blocked him outright and handed everything involving him over to his staff.
And then—unexpectedly—what caught his eye was a trace of Yoo Junseong having contacted him just moments ago.
The instant he saw the name, Eun-gyeol realized his ominous suspicion was correct.
They were together right now.

Just as he was about to call Yoo Junseong while suppressing his murderous intent, a photo was sent from Yoo Junseong.

The moment he saw the photo—sent without a single word of explanation—Eun-gyeol sprang to his feet.

It was Choi Han-geon, lying defenseless on a hotel bed, his neck stained with filthy kiss marks.