Into The Thrill-Chapter 11.6
Woojin put a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
After spending the time it took to finish a smoke, he came back inside. His eyes met Haewon’s almost immediately.
“That champagne—what is it? My birthday gift?”
Haewon pointed at the bottle Woojin had brought. His face looked a bit disappointed, like he was asking, Seriously? You're calling it a birthday celebration with just that?
Woojin snorted inwardly at how ridiculous it was. Just like the people he himself scoffed at for getting spoiled with affection, Haewon was lost in his own self-importance, unable to read the room.
“You caught me. If you hadn’t changed the door code, I might’ve been able to sneak in with it and surprise you.”
“...Right. So you’re just cashing in on that pretty face of yours.”
“What?”
“You should’ve brought wine. I don’t even like champagne.”
With a lukewarm expression, Haewon dismissed the champagne Woojin had saved for when he finally dealt with Take 3. It wasn’t exactly bought for his birthday, but still. To Haewon, it was nothing.
He didn’t even notice Woojin’s displeased stare as he casually asked, “So, what are you going to make for dinner?”
This was the same person who wouldn’t flinch even if given a watch more expensive than his annual salary—so of course, nothing would impress him. He was never satisfied, never excited.
To truly surprise Haewon, Woojin figured he’d have to do something absurd—like learn violin and play a beautiful piece just for him. A guy who thought it was natural to put his violin in a first-class seat on a plane wasn’t going to blink at much else.
And maybe that’s why Woojin kept wanting to teach him something, to put him in his place. But whenever he tried, Haewon would call him an old man. Not even knowing what exactly “boomer” meant, Woojin had once asked Jung Ho-myung who the biggest boomer in the Central Prosecutor’s Office was. When Jung had named the deputy chief of Special Investigations, Woojin finally realized how deeply insulting that term actually was.
“I’m hungry. What are you gonna make?”
“...”
He had only started cooking because he hated store-bought food, not because he wanted to serve someone else. Woojin looked down at Haewon, knowing he himself could be selfish—but Haewon was in another league. Selfish beyond reason. Haewon blinked up at him, the emotional glow from earlier already gone. All that was left in his eyes was the kind of flat indifference reserved for someone who expected nothing from a man who thought a bottle of champagne counted as a birthday celebration.
“I should go.”
“What?”
“I was just stopping by. I have to go.”
“Without even eating dinner? At least eat dinner.”
“That was the plan, but I just got a call. It’s urgent.”
“Are you fucking with me? Then you shouldn’t have come. I waited so long because you said you’d come.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Asshole.”
“Why does someone with such a pretty face have such a foul mouth?”
“You fucking asshole.”
“You know I hate dogs more than anything.”
As Woojin frowned, Haewon searched for a replacement insult with a pathetic expression.
“...Fucking bastard.”
“We’ll open the champagne tomorrow. Eat something nice tomorrow too.”
Woojin picked up his jacket and bag to leave. Haewon, not believing he was actually leaving, quickly wrapped his arms around his waist and clung to him, letting himself be dragged toward the door. Woojin reached the entrance and began putting on his shoes.
“What’s so urgent? How long will it take? I want to be with you today. It’s my birthday tomorrow. When the clock strikes midnight, you’re supposed to tell me happy birthday. I was going to record it when you said it.”
He couldn’t tell if Haewon adored him or just wanted to control him. Woojin sighed deeply as Haewon clung to his waist.
“Let go.”
“Call them. Say you got into a car accident.”
“Don’t say stupid shit. Let go.”
“Call them and say you can’t come.”
As Woojin tried to remove the arms around his waist, Haewon clung tighter with force.
“I can’t work because of you.”
“Would I do this any other day? It’s my birthday. You’re really gonna leave me alone on my birthday? You don’t know how cruel that is?”
“That’s why I came. At least to see your face.”
“If this is how it’s going to be, if you’re going to treat me like I don’t matter...”
Who treated you like that? When?
Haewon bit his lip as if making up his mind. He let go of Woojin’s waist and stepped back. Woojin turned to him.
“If this is how what’s going to be? What are you going to do?”
“...”
“What do you want to do?”
“...”
Maybe he wanted to say they should break up. Maybe he wanted to say he didn’t want to see him anymore. Even if it was said in the heat of the moment, Haewon knew Woojin wouldn’t accept it. So he stood there, silently glaring.
Woojin stared back, his face terrifyingly hard. Haewon’s eyes trembled, like a frog caught in the glare of a predator.
“What do you want to do?”
“...Don’t go.”
“Haewon. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know what I want to do. That’s why I’m telling you not to go.”
“I told you, if you start saying something, you’d better finish it. Be clear. Don’t make me repeat myself. How many times have I asked you the same thing?”
“Don’t lecture me like some old man. I’m not your student.”
Even though Woojin’s tone was calm, it pressed down with oppressive force. Haewon, afraid of something, stepped back as Woojin took a step toward him.
“Then what do you want to do?”
“...I’ll make you lose your job.”
“...”
“I’ll make sure you can’t be a prosecutor anymore.”
“That’s it?”
“...”
As Woojin took another step forward, Haewon stepped back again. His eyes flicked to Woojin’s polished shoes stepping into the living room.
“That’s all you wanted to say?”
“Don’t intimidate me. You think I’m scared of you?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“It’s my mouth. I’ll say ‘you,’ or ‘mister,’ or ‘fucking bastard,’ whatever I want.”
Woojin let out a light sigh. Haewon’s face twisted in pain—full of sorrow, regret, and a mix of other emotions that only worsened the situation. Maybe even he didn’t know what he was feeling. He reached out and grabbed Woojin’s shirt hem tightly, looking up at him.
“...I’m sorry.”
“Finish what you were saying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You wanted to say you wanted to break up?”
“No. No.”
Haewon shook his head violently. No, never—not once had he thought that, he tried to say, fiercely denying it.
“If that’s what you want, then do it whenever you want.”
“...”
“You’re exhausting.”
“What?”
“You wear me out.”
Haewon’s lips trembled. He looked like he might fall apart if touched. His eyes wavered, desperate and broken.
“Saying I wanted to be with you today because it’s my birthday—because I thought it’d be okay today, thought it was allowed—was that such a terrible thing?”
“It wasn’t. I already know how reckless your mouth can be.”
“...You don’t like me, do you?”
“...”
When Woojin didn’t answer, Haewon’s eyes filled with shock. Still clinging to his shirt hem, he looked up at him like a heartbroken child.
“You’re only with me because I keep clinging to you, right? Even though you don’t like me?”
“No.”
“You said I wear you out. You said I could say I wanted to break up anytime.”
“I am tired. I’m tired to death because I’m in love with a thirty-year-old with no conscience who pretends to be a college student.”
Haewon stared blankly at him. Woojin’s words weren’t sweet or romantic. They weren’t even gentle. But as Woojin repeated them inwardly—I’m exhausted because I love you so much—his brow furrowed. It was true. Sometimes, Haewon was exhausting.
And Haewon, as if he couldn’t understand any of it, asked:
“Then why say you want to break up?”
“I never said that. You were the one about to say it.”
“...”
Only then did Haewon realize Woojin had thrown his words back at him in a different form, just so he’d know what it felt like. Haewon’s face twisted again with raw emotion. Woojin pulled him into his arms with perfect timing—calculated, precise.
“You really are a bastard, you know.”
Haewon collapsed into his chest and let the emotions burst. He beat Woojin’s back with his fists. Like he hated him. Like he loved him.
“So be careful what you say.”
“You bastard... you son of a bitch. Do you know how scared I was just now? You fucking asshole!”
Haewon’s chest trembled against Woojin’s. Calmly, steadily, Woojin held him, matching his unsteady shaking with gentle hands patting his back. Once Haewon finally calmed down, he lifted his face from Woojin’s shoulder. His eyes were red.
“I want to be with you tonight. I mean it. Please. Hyung, Woojin-hyung. Prosecutor-nim. Mister Public Servant.”
“...Alright.”
Woojin had intended to stay from the beginning. Shaking his head like he was giving in, he stepped down from the raised floor, taking off his shoes at the entrance. Haewon, overwhelmed, clung to him even tighter, wrapping his arms around his waist and following him wherever he went.
In a warm tone, Woojin asked, “What should I make for dinner? Anything you want?”
“Whatever. Anything’s fine. Whatever you cook is good. It’s all delicious. All the best.”
“Still, it’s your birthday. We should eat something special. I’ll make the tastiest thing I can.”
“You’re seriously a fucking asshole.”
“Haewon.”
“Yeah, but I really like it. That cold-blooded thing you do—I like it.”
“Let’s try using pretty words, okay?”
Opening the fridge, Woojin pulled out some ingredients and stood at the kitchen counter. Haewon pressed his face into Woojin’s back, hugging him like he was afraid he might vanish.
“Hyung...”
“Yeah?”
“I want to touch your cock. Moon Haewon’s. It’s mine, right?”
Woojin’s hand froze mid-slice through a carrot. He glanced back. Haewon’s face was flushed, grinning with embarrassment but not even trying to hide it.
“Kind of hard to cook when someone’s playing with your dick, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“I want to. I want it so bad I’m going crazy. Give it to me as a present. I want a toy. I want your cock. I’m gonna hit you every time I think of it.”
Haewon’s hands, still around his ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) waist, slipped lower toward Woojin’s crotch. Woojin’s eyes followed that subtle descent.
Since he didn’t stop him, Haewon took that as permission and began to grope Woojin’s cock. What was soft in his palm quickly grew in volume, stiffening into full arousal.
“Ahh...”
Moaning like Woojin was the one touching him, Haewon lovingly stroked the erection rising beneath the fabric.
“It’s always to the left. Is that more comfortable?”
“Dunno. Never thought about direction.”
“You can’t cook like this, right?”
“I can.”
“Then can I keep touching you?”
“If you can handle what happens after.”
“Oh, I’m looking forward to it.”
Woojin could still manage to focus through this level of stimulation. Haewon continued to fondle the now clearly outlined erection while Woojin returned to cooking.
Just before midnight, Haewon pulled out his phone and readied the voice recorder, holding it out to Woojin. Lying on the bed naked, Woojin looked at the phone with a mildly awkward expression before speaking.
“Happy birthday.”
“My name, say my name.”
“Moon Haewon.”
“Say it sweetly.”
“Haewon-ah.”
“Say it together.”
“Happy birthday, Haewon-ah.”
“Say you love me.”
“...”
“You know you’ve never said ‘I love you’ to me even once, right?”
“Me?”
“Not once. Hurry.”
“...”
“Hurry up.”
Only then did Woojin realize what Haewon had wanted all along—that this was the birthday gift he’d been hinting at. The word “I love you.” Just those three syllables. Not the champagne (which hadn’t even been bought for his birthday), not the dinner. All he wanted was to hear Woojin say it.
He’d been planning to “correct” Haewon’s bratty behavior, thinking he was being ungrateful. But this—this stupidly simple, sincere request—made Woojin feel empty inside. Like he’d been played.
“Hurry. We’re running out of time.”
“...I love you.”
“One more time.”
“I love you. Moon Haewon.”
“...Okay?”
Haewon nodded slowly and pressed the button to stop the recording, cradling the phone like it was precious. Then he stood, grabbed his high-end headphones, and put them on. Even though Woojin was lying right there next to him, he played the recording over and over, listening to it with a content smile.
Woojin just stared at him, watching him grin every time the word “I love you” played in his ears. After a while, when his thirst had been quenched enough, Haewon took off the headphones and looked at Woojin.
“It’s the best. Out of every birthday gift I’ve ever gotten, this is the absolute best.”
“You really are something else. I finally understand what people mean when they say someone makes their blood boil.”
Even though it was his voice Haewon was so happy about, Woojin couldn’t help but grimace.
“I was boiling with rage because of you earlier too, you know.”
Haewon lay beside him, took his arm, tapped it like a pillow, and rested his head on it. He met Woojin’s eyes.
“If it wasn’t you, Hyun Woojin, I wouldn’t have let it go.”
“If it wasn’t me...”
“You’d have been dumped by me at least a hundred times by now.”
“Do you like me that much?”
Woojin realized how much hope he had in his own question and hated himself a little.
“I like you so much I want to cut your cock off and carry it around.”
Not the answer he’d wanted. But he knew Haewon wasn’t the type to give him the words he wanted. This was enough.
Lying on his arm, Woojin leaned over and climbed on top of Haewon. He kissed his cheek and leaned in to whisper in his ear, in the deep voice Haewon loved most.
“That thing you want to carry around—I want to shove it in your mouth right now. What do you think?”
“In my mouth...?”
“Yeah. I want to shove it in your mouth and fuck you until you can’t breathe.”
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“I’ve never done that before.”
“What?”
Woojin paused, looking down at him.
“I’ve never done it with my mouth.”
“Don’t lie. Someone like you? No way you haven’t.”
Woojin’s eyebrow twitched. He didn’t believe it, and yet it sparked a weird flutter in his chest.
“But our dear Prosecutor-nim sure talks dirty. Who taught you to say things like that?”
“Don’t dodge the question.”
“Break my phone and I’ll do it.”
“...”
“Run away with me to a deserted island. Tomorrow. Then I’ll suck you off every day.”
“...”
Haewon leaned up and licked Woojin’s lips, as if showing him exactly what he’d do. Woojin sat up, grabbed both of Haewon’s cheeks, and shoved his cock into his resisting mouth.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Are you busy this evening?”
“I have plans.”
“Today? Today, of all days?”
Woojin, fixing his tie and smoothing his messy hair, turned around to see Haewon, who had rushed in as soon as he got up. His lips were split, and he pressed a finger against the corner of his mouth with a wince.
Sliding into his jacket, Woojin said, “I have plans. With you.”
“What is that, a dad joke? That wasn’t funny at all.”
Haewon pouted, saying both his lips hurt and that the joke was terrible. Woojin, now fully dressed for work, looked at the still sleepy Haewon.
“You said let’s run off to a deserted island.”
“What?”
“Your lips are split because of me. Gotta keep the promise. Besides, I haven’t opened your birthday present yet.”
“Birthday present?”
“It’s your birthday, Haewon. No way I’m letting it pass like nothing.”
And once Haewon’s December birthday passed, just a few days later, he’d turn thirty. Woojin didn’t need to remind himself of the irrational dread that number brought. Until then, he would be careful. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had with Kim Hayeong or Lee Taeshin. A failure left as it was remained a failure—but if you learned from it, it was no longer just a failure.
Haewon had to make it past twenty-nine safely. Haewon was different from them. And Woojin’s possession of him—his ownership—was almost complete.
