* * *

The rain was deafening.

Well past midnight, heavy drops pounded the earth as though the sky had sprung a leak.

The relentless downpour over the past few days had left the old wooden house steeped in a clammy dampness and the pervasive scent of aged timber.

It was quintessentially monsoon season.

Raindrops slipped through the crevices of the window, splashing onto the wooden desk.

Even as the moisture reached him, Seo Jungyoon paid it no mind.

The rhythmic sound of typing mingled with the rain.

With every movement of his pale fingers, fluid sentences materialized on the monitor screen, one after another.

The door to the study creaked open noiselessly, and a tall man entered.

Jaehyuk, holding a white mug, glanced at Seo Jungyoon, who was engrossed in his work.

Jungyoon didn’t even notice.

His furrowed brow suggested the writing wasn’t going well.

Jaehyuk approached the desk, closed the slightly ajar window, and silenced the storm outside.

He wiped the damp surface with a tissue before placing the steaming mug down. A rich coffee aroma filled the air.

“Still at it? It’s past midnight.”

The coffee Jungyoon had abandoned now belonged to Jaehyuk.

He took a sip of the cold brew, swallowing it in one gulp.

At that, Jungyoon leaned back and let out a dramatic groan.

“Ugh, why is this so hard?”

He glared at the monitor before deleting an entire paragraph with a sigh. It wasn’t unusual for Jaehyuk to witness this.

Calmly, he remarked, “Just drop it. It’s not even an important piece—it’s just a blurb.”

“…How could I?”

Jungyoon frowned, as though he’d just heard something absurd.

For Seo Jungyoon, “just drop it” didn’t exist.

This wasn’t just any writing; it was a recommendation for the new book of a senior author he deeply respected.

While he didn’t aim for perfection, he wanted to pour his genuine feelings and admiration into every sentence.

Jaehyuk, aware of this, still said what he did, which felt particularly unfair.

Jungyoon saved his work and took a short break. He hadn’t realized three hours had already flown by as he wracked his brain.

“I thought we’d spend some time together today. Guess I was wrong. What a letdown, Writer Seo.”

“Cut me some slack. I have to send it by tomorrow.”

“If you pull another all-nighter and leave me hanging again, I swear I’ll actually get mad this time.”

“…”

With a heavy sigh, Jungyoon picked up the mug instead of replying.

The warmth that spread through his palms was a subtle reminder of Jaehyuk’s thoughtfulness.

Jaehyuk, who had once dabbled in literature himself, was supportive and understanding of Jungyoon’s work.

Yet their lifestyles couldn’t have been more different.

Unlike freelance writer Jungyoon, Jaehyuk lived a structured life as an office worker.

While Jungyoon wrote during the early hours of the morning, Jaehyuk strictly adhered to his 9-to-6 schedule.

Jungyoon had neglected him for months now, consumed by his writing.

Knowing how sensitive Jungyoon became when he worked, Jaehyuk had endured the solitude without complaint.

It had been like this for eight years.

Even so, guilt lingered in Jungyoon’s heart.

“How’s work been? Is the new boss treating you well?”

Jungyoon asked about Jaehyuk’s work, steering the conversation toward him.

The corners of Jaehyuk’s lips tugged upward, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.

“Do you think someone at my level meets the boss often? I saw him once, during his inaugural speech.”

“He’s young, isn’t he?”

“Same age as me, actually. And get this—he’s ridiculously good-looking. Like, unfairly so. A hotel heir, rich as hell, well-educated, young, and handsome. Doesn’t that scream inequality?”

Jungyoon chuckled softly but didn’t comment, recalling the new head of the “Royal Peak Hotel” chain he’d looked up recently.

Yoon Taerim. Yes, that was his name.

An heir to a global hotel chain spanning Korea, Japan, China, the Americas, and Southeast Asia.

Although part of a prominent chaebol family, he’d spent most of his life abroad and rarely appeared in the media.

The family-run hotel had been managed by professionals, but a month ago, Yoon Taerim was unexpectedly appointed CEO.

While some expressed concerns about his youth, he had proven his capabilities as the Vice President of the Royal Peak Hotel for two years.

Age was no barrier to a successor trained rigorously from birth.

Many welcomed him as a breath of fresh air for the industry.

Jungyoon took a thoughtful sip of his coffee.

“I mean, what do employees like us care about rich young bosses? Doesn’t affect us much,” Jaehyuk said dismissively.

“Well, a new hire joined our department—a chaebol family’s daughter, no less.”

“From which family?”

“Choheung Construction.”

“That’s not just ‘well-off’!”

Jungyoon’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Choheung Construction was a household name, likely ranked within the top 30 conglomerates.

“Why would someone like that work in a hotel’s back office? Why not Choheung?”

“Beats me. Maybe hotels are her dream? Or maybe she wanted more realistic work experience.”

“If it were about experience, she’d keep her family background secret.”

Interest fading, Jungyoon’s expression turned indifferent.

Picking up on this, Jaehyuk moved behind him and began massaging his stiff neck.

“She’s only 24. And she’s already driving a foreign car and carrying luxury everything.”

“So what? Stop judging people by appearances.”

“Speaking of appearances, she asked if I have a girlfriend yesterday.”

“And?”

“I told her I’ve been dating someone for eight years. She looked devastated.”

Jungyoon burst into laughter, setting his mug down.

As Jaehyuk pressed into his tense shoulders, he leaned back, letting himself relax.

Their banter gave way to silence.

The massage turned gentler, Jaehyuk’s fingers sliding beneath Jungyoon’s thin T-shirt, his touch growing more intimate.

“Stop,” Jungyoon protested, pulling away.

“I have to work.”

“Seo Jungyoon.”

Jaehyuk froze, his expression hardening before he laughed bitterly.

“Jungyoon, do you realize we haven’t had sex in four months?”

“Later. Once I’m done.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times.”

Seo Jungyoon was notably passive when it came to sex.

He had no real interest in it, and even when it did happen, he didn’t particularly enjoy it.

Considering they’d been in a long-term relationship, it was natural to expect they’d be comfortable sharing intimacy without hesitation.

But Jungyoon was always stiff and awkward.

It was always Jaehyuk who had to coax him into it, and even then, it rarely escalated to full intercourse.

Unlike Jaehyuk, who couldn’t look at Jungyoon without feeling the urge to touch him, Jungyoon was indifferent, almost detached.

“Do you hate sleeping with me? Do I not excite you anymore?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then how much longer do I have to wait? This isn’t the first time.”

Jaehyuk knew Jungyoon was naturally disinterested in sex and relationships, but today, his emotions were running high.

Maybe it was the result of feeling neglected for so long, finally boiling over.

“Seo Jungyoon. I’m your boyfriend, not your guardian.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve never thought of you as my guardian either.”

“Ha, whatever. What’s the point of talking? I’m going to bed first. You can stay up as long as you like or do whatever you want.”

Fearing his voice would rise, Jaehyuk cut off the conversation and left the room.

Grabbing his now-cold mug, he walked out of the workspace without looking back.

When the door clicked shut and the sound of his retreating footsteps faded, Jungyoon let out a deep, helpless sigh.

He buried his head in his arms on the desk, hands pressed to his temples.

He knew.

* * *