By Zephyria 
“Hello, Actor. Hyung.”
On the first floor, Yang Road had a black van waiting. Lee A-gon’s car had changed recently. It was the type of vehicle commonly called a celebrity van.
“It’s a bit chilly today. Shall I turn on the heater?”
“No.”
Refusing the heater, Lee A-gon instead took out a blanket and placed it over his and Hae-jun’s laps. Yang Road shouted, “We’re departing!” in a bright voice.
The DJ on the radio offered a cheerful morning greeting. Soon, pleasant music began to play. The inside of the car was quiet, and Hae-jun and Lee A-gon sat side-by-side, looking out the window in different directions.
However, the situation under the blanket was entirely different. The fabric covering Hae-jun’s thighs had been moving in bulges for some time.
Hae-jun stared intently out the window, his chin propped on one hand. Meanwhile, Lee A-gon unhesitatingly rubbed between Hae-jun’s legs, measured the outline of his genitals, unbuckled his pants, and lowered the zipper before entering.
Like the legs of a silently moving spider, Lee A-gon’s fingers dug into Hae-jun’s underwear. The fingers, entering through the opening designed for easy urination, immediately grasped his genitals.
Hae-jun anxiously looked down between his legs. The blanket was writhing as if it had a life of its own. Despite touching someone else’s genitals with his hands, Lee A-gon’s face was expressionless. He even looked bored.
‘Stop.’
Hae-jun whispered. Only then did Lee A-gon’s face show an expression. His eyes narrowed as if amused.
The hand touching his genitals grew bolder. He touched his genitals, rubbed the glans, and took out his testicles, rolling them in his hand. He didn’t stop for about forty minutes.
“Actor, did something get on you?”
“Destination reached. Ending navigation.” With the navigation’s announcement, Yang Road turned around and asked. Lee A-gon was licking his fingers. If something had gotten on him, he could have wiped it with a wet tissue, so why was he licking his fingers? Yang Road asked, puzzled, and offered a wet tissue.
“Hyung, what’s wrong with you now?”
Hae-jun, pressed against the window, was trembling. His face was flushed, and his breathing was ragged. Yang Road asked with concern.
“Are you sick? Are you okay?”
“Hyung is fine.”
Lee A-gon answered instead of Hae-jun. He was still licking his fingers. His red tongue flickered out between his beautifully shaped lips, licking his fingers in a way that felt almost predatory. Seemingly pleased, Lee A-gon’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. It wasn’t often that the ill-tempered actor smiled, so Yang Road smiled along.
“Let’s get out. Hyung, can you stand?”
When Hae-jun shook his head, Lee A-gon sent Yang Road on an errand to buy fever reducers, just in case. Then, he cupped Hae-jun’s face and kissed him deeply.
“Mmmph.”
Hae-jun, his lips sealed, let out a pained groan. Lee A-gon greedily devoured Hae-jun’s lips, then spat them out, repeating the action. Before long, his right hand was holding Hae-jun’s genitals. As he pulled back his tongue, which kept trying to move away, Lee A-gon grasped Hae-jun’s chest with his left hand.
“Was it very difficult?”
Hae-jun had orgasmed twice on the way. Each time, he had been excessively tense about being caught by Yang Road, and as a result, he had developed a slight fever.
“Stop it now.”
Enough time had passed for Yang Road to return. Hae-jun finally managed to pull Lee A-gon away. They looked at each other, breathing heavily.
“Hyung, did you wear the clothes I told you to?”
Lee A-gon asked. Hae-jun, his hand on his feverish forehead, was catching his breath. He slightly unzipped his jacket to show the clothes he was wearing. It was the very sweater Lee A-gon had told him to wear.
Lee A-gon smiled faintly and helped Hae-jun out of the car. Standing on the ground, Hae-jun finally began to calm down.
“No. No! That’s not how you do it.”
Kim Jun-haeng snapped with irritation. Han Na-young slumped to the floor, her face exhausted.
It was a scene of confrontation between mother and son immediately after a murder. The son finally exploded in anger at his mother, who believed that as long as the ratings didn’t drop, it didn’t matter if her son committed murder.
The director had asked Han Na-young to act as someone who “believes she loves her son but actually doesn’t, without realizing it.” For Lee A-gon, he requested acting that conveyed “I believe my mother loves me, but deep down, I unconsciously know it’s not love.”
Hae-jun had no idea what kind of acting that was. Han Na-young seemed to be in the same boat.
The same scene was repeated multiple times. The actors and the staff watching grew increasingly weary.
“Let’s take a break.”
Finally, Kim Jun-haeng threw in the towel. He suggested a break from filming, then approached Lee A-gon and smacked him hard on the back of the head. Hae-jun, who had been about to put a straw in his water bottle, froze in surprise.
“Let’s do better. Okay?”
Kim Jun-haeng, speaking through gritted teeth, moved towards Han Na-young. Hitting a lead actor. Perhaps because the end of the shoot was near, the abuse was escalating.
“Are you okay?”
Hae-jun cautiously approached Lee A-gon and offered him a water bottle. Though he didn’t show it, Lee A-gon was vulnerable to stress and easily hurt. Knowing how much he craved assistance whenever things got tough, Hae-jun was worried.
“Do you want assistance?”
As soon as he whispered, leaning in close, Lee A-gon grabbed Hae-jun’s hand and pulled him roughly.
‘There he goes again.’ ‘Poor guy.’ ‘He’s really riding him hard.’ The staff’s whispers could be heard as they watched them. Whenever Lee A-gon was berated by the director, he would grab his manager and disappear. They assumed he was going to vent his frustration.
As they entered the tent for actors’ waiting area, a member of the production team approached and asked, “Would you like some hot packs? Is there anything you need?” Lee A-gon didn’t answer. He sat Hae-jun down on a long chair and then flopped down onto his lap.
Soon, other actors began to trickle into the tent. The man who had acted as the victim of Lee A-gon’s murder today was heard asking for the fake blood on his face to be wiped off.
Hae-jun stroked Lee A-gon’s head, who was lying with his head on Hae-jun’s lap, with a sense of pity. He wondered how much stress he must be under to act like this. He didn’t know how much assistance stroking his head would provide, but Hae-jun channeled assistance energy into his fingertips and massaged his head.
At that moment, Lee A-gon’s hand slipped inside Hae-jun’s padded jacket. The hand moved around to his back and pulled Hae-jun’s torso forward.
Though he didn’t know why, Hae-jun bent forward as Lee A-gon directed. He felt Lee A-gon lift his head upwards from his lap. His chest lowered, and Lee A-gon found Hae-jun’s nipple and began to suck.
“……!”
Hae-jun stiffened. He felt the wet pressure of lips on his nipple. At first, the lips fumbled near the areola, unable to find the exact spot, but after a moment, they found the nipple and sucked forcefully.
Only then did Hae-jun understand why Lee A-gon had made him change his clothes. Hae-jun’s nipple protruded through a gap in the worn sweater. Lee A-gon was diligently sucking on it.
“Are you crazy?”
Hae-jun whispered. Slurp, slurp, slurp. The sounds were audible. He pulled his padded jacket down as far as possible, trying to prevent anyone from seeing Lee A-gon and him.
“…The director is being particularly… Is something on the floor there? Do you have coffee…?”
The sounds of people talking, each doing their own thing, buzzed like a cloud. Hae-jun gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. He could see Lee A-gon’s dark head. Lee A-gon held Hae-jun’s upper body with both hands, preventing him from sitting up, and sucked on his nipple in a trance.
“Stop it.”
Hae-jun muttered through clenched teeth.
“I said stop. We’ll get caught like this.”
“Lee A-gon actor?”
Just then, someone called out to Lee A-gon. Hae-jun’s face turned pale. Regardless, Lee A-gon remained engrossed in sucking Hae-jun’s nipple.
“Where is the actor? Did he go out?”
The junior staff member, lifting the tent flap, looked around and made eye contact with Hae-jun. She walked towards Hae-jun. Hae-jun hastily zipped up his padded jacket even more carefully and then hunched over even flatter.
“Is this person the actor?”
The junior staff member asked. Hae-jun barely managed to nod.
“He seems very tired… asked if he could borrow your lap… He’s sleeping right now.”
Fortunately, the sucking sounds had stopped. Instead, Lee A-gon was licking the nipple that had protruded through the sweater. Hae-jun clenched his teeth for a moment, then released them.
“That’s good. The director said Han Na-young sunbae will be filming alone, so you should wait.”
Saying that, the staff member glanced at Hae-jun and Lee A-gon. It was understandable that a tired actor might rest his head on his manager’s lap, but she seemed puzzled as to why the manager was bent over so much that his face was hidden.
“Well then, good work.”
Fortunately, the busy staff member didn’t show any further interest and left the tent. Hae-jun let out a sigh of relief. Lee A-gon’s tongue flicked over the small nipple, then he opened his mouth wide, taking the areola and part of the breast into his mouth and sucking with a pop.
“Lee A-gon, stop.”
“……”
“Lee A-gon. Please. Haa….”
Persuasion didn’t work. Having no choice, Hae-jun bent his body even deeper, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep.
His chest became wet with saliva. The nipple, protruding through the hole in the sweater, was nibbled.