By Zephyria Yoon Joo-ho walked towards a low cabinet that separated the spacious living room from the dining table, stood with his back to Song Hyun-soo, and began rummaging through a drawer.
Since he was only wearing a towel, not a robe, his entire silhouette was clearly visible. It was as if he was wearing nothing at all. It would have been less suggestive if he had been completely naked. The towel, damp with water, clung to his skin, revealing the curve from his sharply angled lower back to his firm, tight buttocks.
Yoon Joo-ho’s broad shoulders were well-known, but Song Hyun-soo hadn’t realized he had such a good physique. He had thought he might be on the thinner side.
Every time he rustled, searching for something, ripples of muscle flowed from his shoulders down his back and to his waist.
Having entered his thirties, Yoon Joo-ho’s face was no longer boyish.
As his handsome features gradually began to show maturity, he gained an image that was more cynical and demanding than that of a pretty boy or a handsome man. However, it was still a fact that his face was exquisitely beautiful.
His sculpted physique contradicted the delicate harmony of his features.
Song Hyun-soo couldn’t tear his eyes away from Yoon Joo-ho’s back, nor could he remove his hand from his mouth.
A man had just finished showering and was standing in a living room. That alone felt like it deserved an R-19 rating.
The cute Crown Prince had turned into a man.
A scent like burning matches briefly wafted, followed by a strong fragrance that reached Song Hyun-soo’s feet. It was similar to Yoon Joo-ho’s perfume, similar to the scent from Yoon Joo-ho’s business card, and similar to the scent he had detected upon first entering the space. But it was a bit deeper.
Yoon Joo-ho extinguished the long match he had used. Song Hyun-soo, pretending not to watch, was about to go and sit on the sofa but stopped abruptly.
“Yoon Joo-ho! You have a guest, and that’s what you’re wearing?”
Director Bang, returning with juice, saw Yoon Joo-ho and was aghast. Yoon Joo-ho turned towards them. Song Hyun-soo felt a slight dizziness. His body… his front was just as striking.
“What’s wrong with it? It’s just us guys.”
“That’s not the issue, you punk.”
Yoon Joo-ho remained calm in front of the flustered Director Bang. Yoon Joo-ho picked up a juice glass from the tray Director Bang was holding, and his gaze turned to Song Hyun-soo.
“Is it a problem if I’m like this?”
“…No.”
Actually, I’m grateful. For some reason, it just makes me feel grateful to be alive.
After taking a sip of juice, Yoon Joo-ho shrugged.
“See?”
Director Bang shook his head in disbelief and hurried back to the room Yoon Joo-ho had just come from. Meanwhile, Yoon Joo-ho leaned against the cabinet and lit a cigarette.
Everything before his eyes was excessively stimulating. It was a continuous series of high-quality scenes that one would expect to see in a movie theater or buy in a magazine.
“Why are you so quiet today?”
Exhaling a long puff of smoke from his first drag, Yoon Joo-ho casually remarked. He didn’t like the faint smile lingering on the edge of his thin lips. It felt like a question asked with the full knowledge of why the person in front of him had become quiet.
“I’m usually very well-behaved, aren’t I? It’s just that you keep provoking me.”
He scratched his cheek with his index finger, avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t bear to look any longer at his broad shoulders, his chest, his firm abs, or the prominent bulge beneath the towel.
Yoon Joo-ho let out a soft chuckle as he brought the filter to his lips, but Song Hyun-soo pretended not to hear.
Fortunately, Director Bang returned as quickly as he had left. He brought a soft, thick white robe and tried to drape it over Yoon Joo-ho’s shoulders. Yoon Joo-ho resisted.
“Hyung, why are you tormenting me like this?”
“What’s wrong with wearing a robe? You like robes. Wear it, Joo-ho.”
Grumbling, Yoon Joo-ho reluctantly slipped his arms into the robe sleeves. Turning his back to Song Hyun-soo, he fastened the front and tied the waist belt. Then, he let the towel drop from beneath the robe. Thump.
“…”
It was a very peculiar scene.
Even when he was only wearing a towel, Yoon Joo-ho must have been naked underneath. But the towel he dropped from beneath the robe after putting on the robe somehow evoked even more imagination. It was as if what Yoon Joo-ho dropped from under the robe was not a towel but underwear…
Feeling his mouth fill with sticky saliva, Song Hyun-soo quickly turned his head away. His heart pounded as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have. Yet, the very scene he shouldn’t see was the one he most wanted to see.
Even after turning his head, his eyes kept drifting in that direction. Was this how a woodcutter felt upon witnessing a fairy bathing?
“And the juice was for Hyun-soo, why are you drinking it? What have you done?”
“I’m tired from spending money.”
“Oh, wow, you’re so great. Our Joo-ho, you’ve done such a big thing.”
While Director Bang went to get more juice, Yoon Joo-ho walked over and plopped down in a single-seater armchair. While tapping ash into the ashtray on the side table next to him, he gestured to the long sofa next to Song Hyun-soo.
“Sit down, junior.”
“…”
“It’s distracting.”
Did you catch a disease where you die if you speak nicely?
Glancing at his smirking face, Song Hyun-soo awkwardly sat on the edge of the sofa.
Yoon Joo-ho placed his long legs on the ottoman, crossing his ankles. The hem of his robe swayed with his movements.
It was so precarious…
Song Hyun-soo licked his lips with his tongue and turned his head away.
Director Bang returned and sat in a lounge chair opposite Song Hyun-soo, handing him a glass of juice from the table.
“Try it. It’s freshly squeezed at home, so it should be good.”
“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”
Taking the fresh fruit juice with pulp, Song Hyun-soo brought up the question that had been on his mind since he entered the house.
“Director Bang, is this perhaps…”
“Ah, it’s Joo-ho’s residence.”
“His residence? Senior’s house?”
Am I currently in Yoon Joo-ho’s living room?
As Song Hyun-soo’s voice rose in disbelief, Yoon Joo-ho, who was smoking, tilted his head and interjected.
“Why? Did you think I wouldn’t have a house?”
Instead of replying, Song Hyun-soo slowly turned his head and looked at him with a look of pity. If his face had faltered even a little bit there…
“I wish it were the company office… but Hyun-soo, you know, right?”
At Director Bang’s cautious voice, he turned his face in that direction.
“Joo-ho has been having some conflict with the company lately. And he’s a bit uncomfortable meeting people from outside.”
“Yes.”
“If it were something we’d only do once, we could meet outside… but it’s something that needs to be done periodically.”
“What kind of thing is it? What do you need me to do?”
Is he asking me to clean? Song Hyun-soo looked around the house within his line of sight again. The first-floor living room alone seemed to stretch over 10 meters from one end to the other, and with two floors, cleaning alone would take all day.
“You’ve almost memorized the
Song Hyun-soo, who had been tilting his chin towards the distant ceiling and the second-floor railing, turned to look at Yoon Joo-ho at his voice.
“I memorize it, yes.”
“Joo-ho mentioned it. He said it seems like Hyun-soo-ssi has memorized the entire script.”
“……”
He said that about me to Director Bang? What’s the occasion? But how did he know I had the script memorized…
Ah, that must be when he found out. During the first script reading. He must have overheard me reciting Lee Sol’s lines.
“It’s not something you necessarily have to memorize. The fact that you’re memorizing other people’s lines is proof that you’re working hard, so we thought Hyun-soo-ssi would be the perfect fit. Both Joo-ho and I.”
“Thank you for seeing me in a good light. I have to work hard, given my circumstances.”
“That’s true.”
Yoon Joo-ho muttered as he flicked ash, and Director Bang, with an awkward smile, stepped in to explain for Yoon Joo-ho.
“Joo-ho means he likes seeing how hard you work, Hyun-soo-ssi.”
“But do you know this?”
Yoon Joo-ho, leaning his head against the high back of the recliner, looked at Song Hyun-soo with his eyelids lowered in that position.
“In this industry, just working hard means nothing. If you don’t deliver results, you’re a sinner even if you worked hard, and if you get good results, even lazy guys get treated like princes.”
“……”
“But, in my experience, the latter lasts for about five years at most.”
So, what’s the point? Are you telling me to work hard or not?