Chapter 69: 47 Missed Calls

“Han-geon.

I just got pissed because of that bastard.”

“…Huh?”

“And you’re still flirting with him again, right in front of me?”

The look he shot at Han-geon, his brow faintly furrowed, was savage.

The way he spat out his words was no different.

Han-geon blinked slowly, bewildered.

He couldn’t follow Eun-gyeol’s emotions at all.

“…You mean Geonho?”

“Yeah.

Who else would it be?”

“Why… are you suddenly acting like this again?”

Staring at him with snake-like eyes, Eun-gyeol genuinely looked upset.

So all that stuff earlier—bringing Geonho up over and over—wasn’t just a momentary fit of spite.

He’d really been angry…?

Eun-gyeol continued, his gaze dark.

“f*ck, now that I think about it, it’s been like this since the first day I met you.

Why does that bastard hover around you so unnecessarily?”

“Don’t think weird things.

He’s just like that, without any ulterior motives!”

“Yeah, you said the same thing back when it was Yoo Junseong.”

Silence fell.

In the frozen air, the two of them glared at each other wordlessly for a moment.

Seeing Eun-gyeol rake a hand through his hair with an irritated sigh made anger flare up inside Han-geon.

Sure, it wasn’t the first or second time he’d seen Eun-gyeol like this—but did Cha Eun-gyeol really have the right to treat him this way now?

Acting like an absolute tyrant toward him while holding everyone around Han-geon to cruel standards—it felt suffocating.

Han-geon met his gaze squarely and demanded,

“Who the hell are you even comparing Geonho to?

Why Yoo Junseong?

And what about you—what makes you so righteous?”

“Do I have any reason not to be?”

“You drag me off wherever you want and do shit like this… If you want it, I just have to go along, right?

Time and place don’t matter.”

At Han-geon’s bitter, mocking protest, Eun-gyeol smiled crookedly.

As always, his smile was beautiful—and unbearably arrogant.

“So what?

You like having s*x with me too.”

“You really…”

His guts twisted.

Han-geon’s face crumpled, his fist clenching on its own.

This time, he didn’t back down and snapped back at him.

“Then let me ask you one thing again.

Sure, fine—say I’m a total idiot with no pride, happy to f*ck you.

Then you—”

Eun-gyeol’s eyes, meeting Han-geon’s glare, didn’t waver in the slightest.

He only flicked an eyebrow, as if telling him to go on.

Staring straight at him, Han-geon finally voiced the question he’d been desperately avoiding all this time.

“Why… do you have s*x with me?

You’ve got plenty of people who want you.

Why go this far with me?”

“Ha…”

What came back was an irritated sigh.

His expression twisted completely.

“Why do you keep asking the same thing?

What the hell do you want to hear?

You.”

His blunt gaze was sharp.

“You want an honest answer?

I like you because you’re a beta.

No worries about pregnancy no matter how many times I come inside.”

“…..”

“I always thought a guy’s hole would be disgusting, but once I actually fucked you, it wasn’t bad.

You’re sturdier than women—can keep f*cking you for days and you’re still fine.”

There were blades embedded in Eun-gyeol’s voice.

No—his answer itself was a sharp weapon.

When Han-geon had been injured protecting him from an attacker, he hadn’t even felt the pain.

But at a single sentence from Eun-gyeol, he couldn’t even breathe properly.

He just stared blankly at Cha Eun-gyeol.

He’d charged at him so boldly, only to be knocked flat by a single line and left sprawled in the mud.

The urge to laugh bitterly rose up—but Han-geon couldn’t laugh.

He no longer had the energy to cling to his pride in front of Eun-gyeol, nor the strength to mask his wounded heart behind a façade.

“That’s all.

Need anything else?”

Eun-gyeol tossed the words out as if annoyed.

After that, a long silence followed.

During that time, Han-geon couldn’t say a single thing.

In truth, he wanted to throw everything away and run.

He felt like collapsing and bawling like a child.

He didn’t want to give his body to someone who could say things like that.

This, he realized, must be what utter misery felt like.

So many emotions churned together inside him, a tangled vortex.

But no matter how filthy and wretched he felt, this situation still had to be wrapped up.

Wanting to escape was one thing—actually doing it was another.

He decided to deal with these feelings later.

Shoving his emotions behind duty and responsibility was something Han-geon was painfully used to.

Instead of lashing out with harsh words, slapping Eun-gyeol, or declaring he couldn’t keep doing this fucked-up thing anymore, Han-geon slowly pushed himself up.

“…Let’s go.”

“…..”

“People will be looking for you.”

He opened the van door and stepped out.

His body, brutally overworked in such a short time, wobbled slightly.

But he knew the dizziness wasn’t physical.

Eun-gyeol’s answer spread through him like poison, sapping all his strength.

Eun-gyeol followed him out.

Keeping a small distance as they walked, Han-geon eventually circled back and fell in step behind him.

He properly fitted his earpiece and connected the radio, sharpening his senses like before—so that no one in the world could harm Cha Eun-gyeol.

So that if anyone dared to attack him, Han-geon could once again block them with his own body.

For a moment, he thought he must look like a dog that kept wagging its tail no matter how many times it got kicked—but as he led Eun-gyeol onward in silence, he buried that thought deep in the back of his mind.

***

The filming in Seoul wrapped up late in the evening.

The next schedule was set to resume in Pocheon starting Monday.

The two of them didn’t speak on the way back from the hospital shoot.

Normally, Eun-gyeol would have forced them to go to either his place or Han-geon’s together.

But in the completely frozen atmosphere, Eun-gyeol said nothing at all.

Han-geon quietly drove to Eun-gyeol’s place and dropped him off.

Then he drove alone and parked near his own home.

His head was muddled with layered exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think—just sleep.

He’d been stuck to Eun-gyeol for weeks, but today was the most exhausting of all.

His whole body felt sluggish and heavy, like it was filled with lead.

The moment he got home, he showered and collapsed into bed.

When he opened his eyes, it was already close to noon the next day.

Sleeping in this late was rare for him.

Still, after a long, deep sleep, the chaotic thoughts swirling in his head had settled somewhat.

Nothing had actually been resolved.

He’d just folded up his complicated feelings neatly, like a blanket, and shoved them into a corner.

Eun-gyeol’s barbed words still echoed in his ears.

You want an honest answer?

I like you because you’re a beta.

No worries about pregnancy no matter how many times I come inside.

With a hollow feeling, Han-geon closed his eyes.

He couldn’t even tell how far his relationship with Eun-gyeol had gone anymore.

How had it come to this?

They’d had their scuffles growing up, sure—but never had their relationship been driven into a dead end like this.

He had no idea how to untangle it, and the helplessness weighed on him.

Where had it gone wrong?

When his feelings for Eun-gyeol were discovered?

When he became his manager?

Or had it all been wrong from the moment he fell for him…?

They’d built up an immeasurable amount of time together.

He couldn’t regret or rewind every moment.

No matter where he tried to return to, he would inevitably end up here.

What Eun-gyeol had done to him, the cruel words from yesterday… none of it was probably avoidable.

Even so, Han-geon had to admit that he was thoroughly worn down now.

He needed some time—just a little—away from Eun-gyeol to think.

But before that, he had to do his job.

He couldn’t abandon everything and disappear just because he needed time.

Once they went back to Pocheon, they’d be together constantly again, so he needed to steady his heart somehow before then.

My body feels… off.

Ever since yesterday, he’d felt strangely chilly, yet feverish.

Maybe the mental exhaustion was bringing on a cold.

From experience, he knew that lying around feeling useless only made it worse, so he ate a solid lunch and laced up his sneakers.

Since it would be annoying to carry, he left his phone at home and went out.

After a light walk to help digestion, he felt like moving more.

After a few laps around the park, he decided to hike the small mountain behind it.

There was a mountain near his place—not high enough for serious climbing, but just challenging enough to be more than a casual stroll.

Without hesitation, Han-geon started up the trail.

The stifling midsummer heat had already begun to ease.

Before long, autumn breezes would arrive.

He climbed without stopping and then spent some time blankly killing time at the summit.

The gentle mountain breeze cooled his flushed face.

How long had he been there?

When the slanting sunlight began to take on a faint reddish hue, Han-geon snapped back to his senses.

He descended slowly and headed straight home.

By the time he arrived, he was drenched in sweat.

Without looking back, he went into the bathroom and drenched himself in cold water.

After a long while, his head felt clearer and his mood improved somewhat.

The faint chills were still there, but maybe some cold medicine would take care of it.

Drying himself with a towel, he picked up the phone he’d left behind.

When he casually turned on the screen, he almost dropped it.

“W-what…?”

47 missed calls.

Staring at the unbelievable number, Han-geon’s eyes widened.

Next to that suffocating, obsessive figure was just one name.

Had something happened?

His heart began pounding.

Just as he was about to call Eun-gyeol back, his phone rang again.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“…..”

Only silence came through.

Just as he was about to ask what was going on, he heard damp, uneven breathing.

—Ha, f*ck… where are you right now.

The clenched voice confused Han-geon.

What was this all of a sudden?

He had no idea.

“What?

Did something happen?”

—Where are you.

The blunt question came in a voice so low it made his insides tremble.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Han-geon scratched the back of his head.

“I’m at home?”

—You weren’t there.

And why did you leave your phone behind?

“…You came by?”

The more he heard, the more baffled he became.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the call abruptly cut off.

At the same time, he heard the front door lock disengage.

“…Cha Eun-gyeol?”

Han-geon rose awkwardly and looked at Eun-gyeol striding in with long, forceful steps.

There was no answer in his rigid face.

He tore off the cap he was wearing and tossed it carelessly to the floor, then marched straight up and grabbed Han-geon by the collar.

“What—!”

Before Han-geon could react, Eun-gyeol threw him onto the bed.

Then he pounced, straddling Han-geon’s waist.