Chapter 7: Loving from afar

The boss, after hearing Han-geon’s words, started yelling furiously.

He shouted, demanding to know if he was supposed to coddle his employees just to give them work.

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Han-geon to quit on the spot.

Han-geon was considered the most capable employee after the team leader, and as the boss, he surely didn’t want to lose someone like him.

In the end, the boss, still fuming, barked that he had already sent someone else to today’s event, so Han-geon should take the day off and start working at the concert event site instead of the VIP-protection site starting tomorrow.

Then he abruptly hung up.

As soon as the call with the boss ended, the team leader called.

Unlike the boss, the team leader spoke with sympathy as he tried to console Han-geon.

—You know I’m aware that you hate the VIP sites, Han-geon.

But listen, it’s already your third year working here.

Take today to rest and clear your head, and think it over again.

All right?

“…Yes, hyung.”

After ending the call, Han-geon shoved his phone into his pocket without care.

Until just moments ago, he’d thought the day was going perfectly, but suddenly his mind had become a tangled mess.

Even if the boss took his circumstances into account for a few days, it likely wouldn’t last long.

If he was trying to permanently assign him to the VIP site for the winter, that meant they were extremely short on manpower there.

This was why he should’ve joined a security company that strictly divided personnel by field—event security, VIP protection, and so on.

But back when he’d just graduated from the Department of Security Studies, there was no way he could’ve known the reality.

He let out a deep sigh.

Staring at the clear sky that seemed oblivious to everything, Han-geon slowly blinked.

‘…I really should change jobs now.’

It wasn’t a thought he’d had just once or twice.

The company he worked for wasn’t exactly small, and yet it was not uncommon for their pay to be delayed.

The biggest problem, though, was how he was sent to entirely different types of sites on any given day—just like what Han-geon was worrying about now.

Han-geon wanted, whenever possible, to take only event-related jobs.

Unlike some of his coworkers who preferred event security because they could see lots of celebrities or enjoy a more lively atmosphere, his reasons were different.

It was foolish, but by working these events, he sometimes got lucky—like a few days ago—when his assignment overlapped with Eun-gyeol’s schedule.

It was rare, extremely rare, but it happened.

Actor Cha Eun-gyeol shone brilliantly when he worked.

Whether he was singing at a concert like the other day or acting in his main line of work, that radiance never failed to be dazzling.

Just seeing him from afar made Han-geon’s chest tighten and his eyes well up—he was that lovable.

Even if these feelings would forever remain something he could never show Eun-gyeol, he didn’t mind.

Just being in the same space, working during the same event, was enough to make him happy.

How wonderful must it be for Eun-gyeol’s personal bodyguards?

They get to see him every day, follow his every move, and protect him day after day…

“…Haha.”

A hollow laugh slipped out.

The emotion mixed with the bitterness creeping out of him was intense jealousy.

No—pathetically enough, it was jealousy that went well beyond envy.

Eun-gyeol felt like a star floating far away.

In the past, he had at least been able to allow himself the luxury of hoping.

But now, Eun-gyeol seemed impossibly distant.

When Han-geon had just graduated from college, Eun-gyeol had been right on the verge of debuting.

But back then, as a rookie, Eun-gyeol didn’t have the means to hire personal security.

Han-geon couldn’t afford to sit around doing nothing while waiting, so he decided to start working and build up experience first.

But while Han-geon was learning the ropes at the company he now worked for, Eun-gyeol exploded in popularity at a frightening pace as soon as he debuted.

By the time Han-geon had built up about a year of experience and turned his eyes back toward Eun-gyeol, he was already a superstar.

The bodyguards currently protecting Eun-gyeol were all former members of the presidential security team or seasoned veterans with extensive experience guarding celebrities.

Someone like Han-geon couldn’t possibly dare to covet such a position.

And there was no way the now endlessly busy Eun-gyeol would remember the promise they made when he was a ten-year-old kid.

‘Stop thinking nonsense. Focus on finding a new job.’

Maybe this time he should look for a company that specialized only in event security.

Either way, even if he quit, he couldn’t afford to take time off.

He needed to find a job quickly.

He still had to pay the rent on his studio apartment and earn money for his living expenses.

Even with these complicated worries swirling in his head, Han-geon dutifully made his way to the supermarket.

He still had green grapes left at home, but he’d run out of sparkling water.

He bought a bottle of sparkling water and picked up a few groceries.

Since he’d never received such a sudden day off before, heading home early felt strangely awkward.

Once he arrived home, he first put away the groceries and took a shower.

After washing up, the gloom that had hung over him earlier seemed to disappear.

Right—getting a new job wasn’t a big deal.

He wasn’t being fired for incompetence; he was simply moving on to a place that suited him better.

He’d been planning to leave anyway, so that was that.

“Maybe I should watch a movie… it’s been a while.”

He sank into the sofa, letting his body relax completely.

Muttering to himself, he picked up the remote and turned on Netflix.

Maybe he should watch something with big, explosive action scenes.

The thought suddenly gave him a small spark of motivation.

He thought about going out to buy popcorn, but ended up grabbing a protein bar instead.

After fiddling with the remote for a while, he picked a movie that looked decent.

Chewing on the protein bar, Han-geon quickly became absorbed in the film.

He was too lazy to turn off the lights and left them on, but it didn’t hinder his focus.

Spending such a leisurely, peaceful moment for the first time in a while wasn’t bad at all.

He’d been watching for maybe thirty minutes when the mood suddenly shifted.

Just moments ago, the screen had been filled with gunfire and exploding cars, but out of nowhere, a parade of bare skin began unfolding.

“…Ahem.”

What the—?
Han-geon cleared his throat, the tips of his ears heating for no reason.

Deep down he felt grateful he was watching alone.

He tried to stubbornly keep his eyes on the screen, but before long his gaze floundered with nowhere to rest.

Why on earth was he feeling embarrassed when no one else was even there?

“Ah, damn…”

His voice came out hoarse.

Why was an action movie suddenly doing this?

Even if a film had scenes like this, did he really need to react this strongly?

Sure, he was a guy in his twenties—prime age and all—but still, wasn’t this a bit much?

Seeing the tight, growing bulge below, Han-geon pressed a hand over his face.

He could just switch channels, but once his body had started heating up, the fire caught instantly.

In the end, his fully hardened lower half drew his hand.

Exhaling a hot breath, Han-geon began clumsily rubbing himself.

Come to think of it—when was the last time he’d gotten himself off…?

…Only three days ago.

And even then, he’d done it twice, right after sending home the friend he’d known for seventeen years who had been sleeping with his head on Han-geon’s lap—while he kept replaying the image of sleeping Eun-gyeol in his mind.

Of course.

The moment he began touching himself, the person who surfaced—always, inevitably—was Cha Eun-gyeol.

No matter how many times he cursed himself as a lunatic inside, his body vividly dragged up the memories from that day.

And his erection grew in perfect proportion to them.

Cha Eun-gyeol’s beautiful, flower-like face as he slept.

The warmth of his head resting on Han-geon’s lap and the way his hair lightly brushed against him.

The pale skin peeking out from inside his shorts…

‘…You crazy bastard.’

He tugged his pants down a little, pulling his underwear down with them.

Something thick and heavy like a giant beer can stood upright, leaking sticky fluid in slow streams.

Cursing himself as a pervert, Han-geon reached out and wrapped his hand around his d*ck.

His brows knit tightly, and his breath trembled with how sharply the excitement surged.

He had barely even gripped it lightly, yet precum welled up in a sudden rush.

His hand, quickly made sticky, slowly stroked up and down.

The heated, pulsing shaft twitched in his palm, swelling even larger.

He slapped the tense, hardened column upward, making faint smacking sounds.

“Ugh— hngh, ah…”

A moan escaped him on its own.

Feeling pathetic for moaning while doing this alone, he tried clenching his lips to swallow the sound, but his mouth slipped open anyway, letting obscene noises fall out helplessly.

Covering his reddened eyes with his free hand, Han-geon let out a hot, shuddering sigh.

Before his eyes, the face of Eun-gyeol—sleeping with his head on Han-geon’s lap three days ago—kept flickering vividly.

That face when he smiled softly in happiness, when he furrowed his brows in irritation, when he cried in sadness—Han-geon had stored all of them, one by one.

Every memory layered with the years they’d spent together and the affection he’d painted over them—every bit of information about Eun-gyeol, carefully preserved, was precious to Han-geon.

But of course, there were blank spaces, too.

When they were young, he used to pride himself on knowing everything about Eun-gyeol.

Yet as time went on, parts of their lives they could no longer share naturally began to appear.

He himself couldn’t even confess his feelings. Eun-gyeol would never know them—should never know them—for the rest of Han-geon’s life.

Even so, curiosity was impossible to smother.

How does Eun-gyeol masturbate?

What kind of expression does he make when he comes?

What… what would Eun-gyeol be like when he has s*x?

“Haa… ngh…”

Strength gathered in his lower belly on its own.

He’d imagined this scene hundreds—no, thousands—of times, yet every time, it still felt unbearably stimulating.

What kind of expression would Eun-gyeol make when he was deeply immersed in the act?

With his naturally sharp personality, would he be rough?

Would he push forward however he wanted, taking control?

No… no.

He would be different in bed. He’d stroke his partner gently, gaze at them with sweet eyes.

He’d kiss them slowly with the same deep, tender look he showed in movies, and touch his partner’s body softly…

…A side of him Han-geon would never see in his entire life, no matter which it was.

“…Hngh… h-heugh…”

As soon as he imagined that far, a sudden pain struck his chest, sharp as if someone had punched him.

But even so, his burning body showed no intention of cooling down.

Adding to it, an impure thought suddenly intruded—he wanted to masturbate while looking at Eun-gyeol’s face.

‘Are you insane?’

Pervert. Freak.

He cursed himself in his mind, startled, but it was useless.

He’d masturbated while thinking of Eun-gyeol more times than he could ever count, but he had never—absolutely never—used Eun-gyeol’s photos or videos while doing it.

The thin, fragile conscience he clung to under the name of “friend” simply wouldn’t allow it.

Then why?

Why was it different today?

No matter how much he questioned himself, the pitch-black desire that wrapped around his whole body ignored him completely, swelling larger and larger.

‘C… crazy…’

After hesitating over and over, Han-geon finally, helplessly, reached out and fumbled to turn on his phone.

Then he opened his gallery.

Inside the only hidden folder—set to private—were dozens, no, hundreds of photos focused on a single person.

The poses, places, and dates varied, but every last image in that folder featured only one person: Eun-gyeol.

Though he kept it secret from Eun-gyeol, Han-geon had never once been ashamed of his obsession.

Not just as a friend—Eun-gyeol as an actor was someone impossible not to love.

Countless people, both in Korea and abroad, were crazy about him.

Being just one fan among that enormous crowd hardly felt like anything wrong.

It was a gallery he would open with a fond heart every day, sometimes overwhelmed by sweet longing, peeking through the photos in secret.

The collection included official pictures released by the agency, paparazzi shots uploaded online, news photos, and fansite previews—but the most precious of all were the ones Han-geon had taken himself, with Eun-gyeol’s permission.

In those photos, Eun-gyeol smiled without makeup, without styled hair, just plain and natural.

Most of them were taken at Han-geon’s house—pictures of the two of them joking around, shots from nighttime walks, or photos snapped right before Eun-gyeol ate the meals Han-geon had cooked.

No matter how aggressively paparazzi chased him, they would never have these.

These were treasures that belonged only to him—something no one could ever take away.

And yet, here he was… about to use these precious, sacred photos to satisfy nothing more than his own filthy desire.

Even as a crushing guilt he had never felt before pressed down on him, Han-geon still fumbled the screen open with his left hand.

Soon, Eun-gyeol’s brightly smiling face appeared.

Eun-gyeol crouching down to pet a cat.

Eun-gyeol eating tteokbokki with him.

A selfie they took together.

Just as the photo of Eun-gyeol smiling with his eyes and looking straight into the camera appeared, Han-geon flinched—
for a split second, it felt as though their eyes had actually met.

“Ah— ugh…!”

His lower belly softened and melted in an instant.

The rush of release burst inside him like an explosion.

Watching the white fluid spurt from the tip of his penis, Han-geon exhaled a hot, trembling breath into the air.

“…Crazy.”

He spat the word out in a cracked voice, then leaned his head back and clenched his teeth.

A heavy, suffocating guilt surged over him like a tidal wave.

He let out another deep sigh rising from his core.

Whether he cursed or blamed himself later, he first needed to wash his hands…
Face flushed bright red, he bit down on his lip and pulled out several tissues, wiping the sticky mess coating his hands.

Beep beep beep.

And then—every movement in his body froze at once.

Unless he was dreaming, the sound echoing in his ears right now was unmistakably someone entering a password on the keypad.
And there was only one person in the world who knew the code to his home.