Meanwhile, Taemin finally reached the Park company. Without hesitation, he made his way straight to Juwon's office room. As soon as he stepped inside, he froze because Juwon was already rushing toward him.
Juwon threw his arms around Taemin's neck, burying his face in the curve of it as if he'd been holding back for far too long.
"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.
Taemin sighed softly, guilt heavy in his chest. Still, he couldn't ignore the warmth of Juwon's thin waist under his hands as he wrapped his arms around him, hugging him back. For a moment, it felt right. Too right. But the guilt didn't fade.
He gently pulled back, just enough to meet Juwon's eyes. "Juwon… I need to talk to you about something."
The words made Juwon's whole body stiffen. His heart skipped a beat, dread flooding his chest. Talk? Was he going to say he'd had enough? That he was tired of him? That he found someone else? Juwon's mind spiraled into every painful possibility.
Before Taemin could speak another word, Juwon closed the gap. His lips smashed desperately against Taemin's, silencing him.
Taemin's eyes widened in shock, but the familiar taste, the desperate pull he couldn't help kissing back. For a fleeting moment, he melted into it.
But then Juwon pressed harder, deepening the kiss, and Taemin broke the connection with a strained breath. His hands rested on Juwon's shoulders as he gently pushed him back. "We should stop. Let's… let's talk first."
That small push was enough to shatter Juwon's heart. In that instant, his worst fears became real. The push didn't feel like hesitation it felt like rejection. Confirmation. He doesn't want me anymore…
Panic clawed inside him. If he stopped now, if he let Taemin speak, he'd lose him. So instead, Juwon clung tighter. His arms locked around Taemin's neck, holding him in place as his lips crashed against Taemin's again, refusing to let go.
He pressed his entire body against Taemin's, molding himself to the other man's form in a frantic, hungry kiss that was more about possession than passion.
Taemin, overwhelmed by the sudden aggression, stumbled back a step. With a strength born of confusion and concern, he managed to reverse their positions, gently but firmly pinning Juwon against the nearby wall. "Juwon, stop. Calm down. We need to talk," he urged, his voice low and steady, trying to break through the haze of panic he saw in Juwon's eyes.
But Juwon wasn't listening. His hands were everywhere, mapping Taemin's back, his sides, as if trying to memorize him. Then, one hand slid beneath the hem of Taemin's shirt, his palm hot and desperate against Taemin's skin. "I need you," Juwon pleaded, his voice cracking, and Taemin saw the glint of tears welling in his eyes. "Please, Taemin. Please."
The raw, shattered plea hit Taemin harder than any kiss. He knew, with sudden clarity, that there was something profoundly different about Juwon today. This wasn't just desire; it was despair. "Juwon, what's wrong?" he started to ask, his own resolve wavering.
But before the question could fully form, Juwon's hands moved again, this time with a shocking, single-minded purpose. His fingers fumbled for a moment before pulling down the zipper of Taemin's pants.
Taemin's breath hitched, a flush spreading across his cheeks. "Juwon, wait—!"
His protest died in his throat as Juwon sank to his knees on the plush office carpet. The view was devastatingly hard to refuse. Taemin's hands, which had been meant to pull Juwon up, instead hovered helplessly in the air. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped him as Juwon, with tears still tracing paths down his beautiful, anguished face, took him into the warm, willing heat of his mouth. All thoughts of conversation, of guilt, of anything else, were momentarily swept away in a wave of sheer, breathtaking sensation.
The feel of Juwon's mouth, the sight of him on his knees, the raw emotion in the air it was too much to resist. A low groan rumbled in his chest as his hands, which had been hovering uncertainly, finally sank into Juwon's soft hair.
His fingers tangled in the dark strands, not pushing, not forcing, but simply holding on as if Juwon were his only anchor in a storm. He could feel the movement of Juwon's scalp under his palms as Juwon worked him with a desperate, practiced rhythm, each motion fueled by a silent, pleading fear that Taemin could feel radiating from him.
As Juwon took him deeper, his head moving faster with a frantic urgency, a wave of intense pleasure crashed over Taemin. He instinctively slapped a hand over his own mouth, stifling the loud, ragged moan that threatened to escape. The sound was muffled against his palm, but the vibration of it shook his entire frame. His other hand tightened in Juwon's hair, his hips giving a slight, involuntary jerk.
He was losing himself, the guilt and the conversation he'd meant to have dissolving under the exquisite pressure of Juwon's throat. His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, his eyes squeezing shut as he surrendered to the sensation, every nerve ending alight and screaming Juwon's name.
His eyes fluttered open, looking down at the breathtaking sight between his legs. Juwon's gaze was locked on his, glossy with unshed tears, and the raw vulnerability in that look sent a fresh jolt of heat straight through Taemin. The combination of exquisite pleasure and heart-wrenching emotion was utterly overwhelming.
A strangled cry escaped from behind the hand still pressed to his mouth as Juwon hollowed his cheeks, taking him to the hilt. Taemin's knees threatened to buckle. The fingers tangled in Juwon's hair gentled for a moment, stroking through the silken strands in a wordless apology for the intensity, for everything.
"Juwon..." he gasped, the name a broken prayer. He knew he should stop this, knew they were spiraling into something that would only make the coming conversation more painful. But the feel of him, the desperate need pouring from Juwon it was a drug Taemin had no strength to refuse.
He could feel the tension coiling tightly in the pit of his stomach, a familiar, dangerous pressure building with each skillful movement of Juwon's tongue, each desperate swallow. His breath came in sharp, ragged pants against his own palm, the world narrowing to the points of contact his hand in Juwon's hair, the devastating heat of Juwon's mouth, and the cold wall at his back, the only thing keeping him upright.
The coil of pleasure snapped taut, a white-hot warning shooting up Taemin's spine. "Juwon—I'm—" he gasped, his voice strained, his hands moving from Juwon's hair to his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away. "You should... pull back..."
But Juwon refused. Instead, his hands came up to grip Taemin's hips, holding him firmly in place. He looked up, his tear-streaked eyes meeting Taemin's clouded ones, and gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head. The message was clear, I want this. I want all of you.
That silent permission shattered the last of Taemin's control. A broken cry was torn from his throat as his climax ripped through him, waves of intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He shuddered against the wall, his vision spotting as he spilled himself deep into Juwon's welcoming mouth.
Juwon took it all, swallowing every last drop with a soft, desperate sound until Taemin was spent and trembling.
Slowly, Juwon pulled back. A shaky breath escaped him as he sat back on his heels. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping away a stray droplet from the corner of his lips. His cheeks were flushed a deep, beautiful pink, his lips swollen and glistening. His eyes, still shimmering with the remnants of tears, held a mix of satisfaction, fear, and raw, undeniable want. He looked utterly wrecked and completely, devastatingly sexy.
Taemin, still trying to catch his breath, his legs feeling like water, could only stare down at him, his heart hammering against his ribs with a confusing mix of satiation, guilt, and overwhelming concern. The air between them was thick, charged, and fragile.
Taemin's breathing was still heavy, his body thrumming with the aftershocks of his release. But the haze of pleasure was quickly being replaced by a sharp, piercing concern. He gently took Juwon's arms, his touch firm yet tender, and pulled him up from his knees until they were standing face-to-face.
"Juwon," he breathed, his voice husky but insistent. He cupped Juwon's flushed cheek, his thumb gently stroking away the track of a stray tear. "Stop. Just… stop for a second. Please. Tell me what's happening. Why are you… why are you suddenly like this?"
Juwon's eyes, wide and shimmering, searched Taemin's. The fear he had been trying to drown in physicality was now laid bare, raw and terrifying. The words Taemin had been about to say earlier the ones Juwon had been so desperate to silence loomed between them like a specter.
Instead of answering, a fresh wave of panic seemed to hit Juwon. He surged forward, throwing his arms around Taemin's neck and burying his face against his shoulder, holding on as if Taemin were the only solid thing in a world that was crumbling around him. His voice was a muffled, broken whisper against Taemin's skin. "I'm so scared… I'm afraid you're going to leave me. That you've finally had enough."
The confession, so simple and so full of anguish, cleaved through Taemin's heart. All the guilt he'd been carrying, all the words he'd rehearsed, suddenly rearranged themselves. His own arms came around Juwon, holding him tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head.
"Oh, Juwon-ah," Taemin murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He pressed a soft kiss into Juwon's hair. "Is that what this was all about? You silly, beautiful man." He pulled back just enough to look into Juwon's fearful eyes, his own gaze unwavering and sincere. "Listen to me. I am never, ever going to leave you. Don't you ever worry about that. You're stuck with me, okay?"
A fragile, watery smile touched Juwon's lips. The terrifying weight that had been crushing his chest finally began to lift, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, his hold on Taemin tightening even more, pulling him into a hug that spoke of promises and a fear finally soothed.
Taemin held him just as tightly, feeling the frantic beat of Juwon's heart gradually slow against his own. In the quiet of the office, surrounded by the evidence of their passion and fear, they simply held each other, the need for words momentarily forgotten in the comfort of a secure embrace.
Taemin gently pulled back from the tight embrace, his hands sliding down to rest on Juwon's shoulders. He searched Juwon's face, his own expression etched with a guilt that now had a new, sharper edge. "Juwon-ah," he began, his voice soft but serious. "Can we talk now? Please?"
Juwon's gaze, which had been locked on Taemin's chest, faltered. He hesitated, then slowly looked away, focusing on a point over Taemin's shoulder. The fear, momentarily quieted by Taemin's promise, came rushing back. His arms dropped to his sides, his fingers nervously twisting together.
"I know what you're going to say," Juwon whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Do you?" Taemin asked gently, his thumb stroking the line of Juwon's collarbone.
"You're going to say it's over," Juwon stated, the words tasting like ash. "It's… it's okay. I understand. A guy like you… used to the parties, the flirting, the… the freedom. Being tied down to someone like me… it must feel like a cage." He finally risked a glance at Taemin, his eyes filled with a heartbreaking resignation. "I knew it was too good to be true. Someone like you, choosing to be loyal to me? It's hard to believe it could last."
Taemin's heart ached. "Juwon, that's not—"
"My whole life," Juwon interrupted, the words spilling out now in a rushed, pained confession. "My family… it was all about duty, image, control. Love was a transaction. Affection was a weakness. I never dated anyone because I never saw the point. I built these walls… I became distant, cold. It was safer."
He took a shaky breath, his eyes glistening. "And then there was you. Loud, bright, infuriatingly charming Taemin, who crashed through every single one of my defenses without even trying. You treated me… like a person. Not Park Juwon, the heir. Just… Juwon. You showed me that… that this," he gestured weakly between them, "could be beautiful."
He looked down at his own trembling hands. "But sometimes… sometimes I don't know if what I feel for you is love… or if I'm just so terrified of losing the only person who has ever made me feel human. What if you realize you miss your old life? What if you find someone brighter, easier, better? What if you leave? And I'm left alone again, but this time… this time knowing what I'm missing?"
The vulnerability in his voice was absolute. He had laid his deepest, most fragile insecurities bare at Taemin's feet, and now he stood there, waiting for the axe to fall, believing it was inevitable.
Taemin listened, his heart breaking with every word that spilled from Juwon's lips. He waited until the torrent of fear and insecurity subsided, until Juwon stood before him, emotionally raw and exposed. Then, he gently took Juwon's face in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze. His thumbs softly brushed away the tears that had begun to fall.
"Juwon-ah," he said, his voice filled with a reverence that made Juwon's breath catch. "Look at me. I have never, in my entire life, met anyone like you before. So… pure. So innocent. I thought the world had chewed everyone up and spat them out, just like it did to me."
He took a deep breath, his own eyes glistening. "I used to think that before anyone could break my heart, it was better to leave them before they do. I've seen how people treat dating like changing clothes. It was a game, and I was good at it. But you… you were different. From the very first moment I saw you, even when you were so cold and distant, I saw it. I saw how innocent your eyes were. They weren't jaded or calculating. They were just… beautiful."
A soft, sad smile touched his lips. "From that day, I decided. If the world was going to be cruel to you, then I would be your saint. I am ready to worship you, Juwon. I will never, ever stop loving you, no matter what."
He saw the hope flicker in Juwon's eyes, saw the way his body relaxed slightly at the vow. It made the next part so much harder. The guilt that had been a constant companion now felt like a physical weight on his chest.
"And the thing I wanted to talk about…" Taemin's voice dropped to a pained whisper, his hands trembling slightly against Juwon's skin. "The reason I was so afraid to tell you… why I thought you might… hate me…"
He swallowed hard, the words sticking in his throat. He forced them out, each one feeling like a betrayal.
"Juwon… I'm not Kim Taemin." He watched the confusion dawn on Juwon's face. "My name… is Lee Taemin. I'm… I'm the son of Mr. Lee… your father's… biggest rival."
He rushed on, seeing the shock begin to register. "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know about any of it at first. I've been abroad almost my entire life after my mother… after she passed. I was kept away from all the family business, all the rivalries. By the time I found out… it was already too late."
His voice broke. "I was already completely, irrevocably in love with you. And I was so afraid… terrified that if you knew, you would look at me the way you're looking at me now… and you would hate me."
Juwon stood frozen, the words echoing in the silent room as if Taemin had shouted them. The son of Mr. Lee. The name was a specter that had haunted his family dinners, his father's late-night phone calls, the very foundation of their company's strategies. And the man standing before him, the man he had just bared his soul to, the man he had knelt for, was his embodiment.
He gulped, the sound painfully loud in the stillness. He took an unsteady step back, his legs feeling weak, until his shoulders met the cool, solid surface of the wall. He leaned against it, needing its support to stay upright.
"I… I need a moment," he breathed, his voice thin and reedy. "Just… just to digest it." He ran a hand over his face, the shock rendering his thoughts into a chaotic, staticky mess. He looked up, his eyes wide and searching Taemin's face for a lie, for a sign that this was some cruel joke. "Why?" he finally managed to ask, the single word heavy with confusion and hurt. "Why did you lie to me on the very first day?"
Taemin's shoulders slumped, the weight of his secret finally fully revealed. "It wasn't a lie meant for you," he explained, his voice thick with remorse. "It's… it's the name I've always used. Kim Taemin. I'm the black sheep of the Lee family, Juwon. I want nothing to do with the business, the rivalries, the corruption. I don't want anyone to know who I am because if they do, I just become a headline. 'Lee Heir Spotted at Club,' 'Disgrace to the Lee Name.' My father… he's always looking for an excuse to ship me back abroad, to get me out of the way. Using 'Kim' was my only way to have a life that was just… mine."
Juwon listened, the explanation weaving through his shock. He saw the genuine pain in Taemin's eyes, the truth of his words. He wasn't a spy he was a runaway. He wasn't here to sabotage. he was here to escape.
The silence stretched between them, taut and fragile. Then, slowly, Juwon pushed himself away from the wall. He closed the small distance between them and, without a word, wrapped his arms around Taemin, pulling him into a tight, desperate hug. He buried his face in Taemin's neck, inhaling the familiar scent that now seemed intertwined with this new, complicated truth.
"It's hard to believe," Juwon whispered against his skin, his voice muffled. "And it's painful to hear." He held on tighter. "But it's a thousand times less painful than hearing you say you want to leave me." He pulled back just enough to look into Taemin's eyes, his own filled with a weary, fragile acceptance. "At least this… this means you loved me truly. For me. Not for my name, or my company. You were hiding from the same world I was. You loved Juwon. That… that part was real."
It wasn't forgiveness, not yet. It was a choice. A choice to hold onto the one thing that felt real in the midst of the shocking revelation. The love, at least, had been genuine.
A wave of profound relief washed over Taemin, so potent it made his knees feel weak again. A soft, breathless smile broke across his face as he looked at Juwon, who was choosing them over a generations-old feud. He leaned in, pressing a grateful, lingering kiss to Juwon's forehead. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much, Juwon-ah. More than anything."
Juwon accepted the kiss, a small smile touching his own lips. But then, in a swift change of mood that made Taemin's heart lurch, he frowned. He pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that was both defensive and petulant. He jutted his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.
"But," Juwon declared, his tone shifting from vulnerable to playfully stern, "I am still mad at you for lying to me."
Taemin's relieved smile instantly vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear. "Juwon, I—"
"So," Juwon interrupted, a mischievous, sheepish grin finally breaking through his faux-anger. He uncrossed his arms and stepped closer, poking a finger into Taemin's chest. "What are you going to do to make it up to me?"
The fear in Taemin's eyes melted into confusion and then cautious hope. This was a game. A test, perhaps, but a playful one.
Juwon's grin widened, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he looked up at Taemin through his eyelashes. "You know," he began, his voice dropping to a shy, suggestive whisper. "No one has ever… begged me before. In love. To talk to someone." He bit his lip, the implication hanging deliciously in the air between them. "Would you… would you do that for me? To be forgiven?"
The request, so unexpectedly bold and utterly alluring coming from the usually composed Juwon, sent a jolt of pure heat straight through Taemin. All the tension, the fear, the guilt it all coalesced into a single, sharp point of desire. A slow, understanding smile spread across Taemin's face, his eyes darkening with promise.
"Is that what you want, baby?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Juwon's ear. "You want me to beg?"
AT Lee estate
The dining hall of the Lee estate was a mausoleum of polished ebony and silence. The only sounds were the precise click of silverware against fine china and the low hum of the air conditioning, trying to cool a tension that was thick enough to taste.
Taekyun sat at his father's right hand, his posture rigid, pushing food around his plate without eating. The protective locket felt like a brand against his skin beneath his shirt, a constant, heavy reminder of his own fragility. Across from him, Rinwoo kept his gaze fixed on the table, his hands folded in his lap. He'd learned long ago that making himself small was the best way to navigate these meals.
To Rinwoo's right, Eunjae was a live wire of restless energy. His eyes kept darting to Daon, who sat stiffly beside him. Daon's face was a mask of stoic control, but a faint sheen of sweat on his temple and the unnatural pallor of his skin betrayed the agony he was in. Every slight shift in his chair was a controlled, minute movement, a testament to a will of iron and a back that was a mess of lacerations.
"You should be lying down," Eunjae had hissed under his breath for the third time since they sat down, his voice tight with a concern he poorly disguised as irritation. "This is stupid. Who cares about dinner?"
Daon had merely given a sharp, almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes warning Eunjae to drop it. Appearances before comfort. Duty before pain. It was the Lee family mantra.
The empty chair at the far end of the table, Taemin's usual place, was a silent, accusing void.
It was Mr. Lee who broke the silence, his voice cutting through the room like a whip crack. "The silence is deafening. Has no one wondered why my youngest son is absent from his own family's table?"
The question hung in the air. Taekyun finally looked up, meeting his father's gaze. "He had prior engagements, Father."
"Engagements more important than his family?" Mr. Lee's eyes narrowed. "When you went to the mountain, to Master Hwang, did you even bother to inquire about Taemin's fate? Or were you all too consumed with your own dramas?"
A cold dread trickled down Taekyun's spine. He had been. Consumed by his own crumbling control, by the need for the locket, by the suffocating presence of the shrine keeper who seemed to see right through him. He had forgotten his brother entirely.
He schooled his features into a mask of cool indifference. "My mind was occupied with the business, even there. The merger documents required my attention. I did not ask." The lie was smooth, delivered with a flat finality that dared anyone to challenge it. Inside, a familiar, irritated exhaustion flared. Another failure to add to the list.
Mr. Lee's critical gaze swept past his eldest son and landed on the easiest target. "Rinwoo."
Rinwoo flinched as if struck, his head snapping up. "Yes, Father?"
"You were there. With nothing to occupy your time but the mountain air. Did it occur to you to ask the Master about your brother-in-law's future? Or were you, too, preoccupied?"
The injustice of it stole the air from Rinwoo's lungs. It wasn't his duty. It had never been his place to ask such a weighty question. He was just an accessory, a ghost at the table. He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize for an offense he didn't commit, his nature compelling him to absorb the blame to keep the peace.
"I… I apologize, Father. It was careless of me. I forgot." The words were ash in his mouth.
"Careless," Mr. Lee repeated, the word dripping with contempt. "A fitting description. You are always late to understand, Rinwoo. You were careless in instructing Eunjae on the rules of this house. You were careless in allowing him to go out and shame this family's name where the entire world could see!"
The volume of his voice rose, echoing off the high ceilings. "Social media is still buzzing with videos of him dancing like a common stripper in a club, tagged as my son-in-law! This disgrace is a reflection on you! Your inability to command respect, to instill duty, to be anything but a passive shadow is an embarrassment!"
Rinwoo shrunk further into his chair, his shoulders hunching. Each word was a needle, piercing the fragile calm he tried to maintain. He simply nodded, accepting the tirade, his eyes glistening with unshed tears of humiliation and helplessness.
But Eunjae could not.
He shot to his feet, his chair screeching violently against the floor. "Stop it!"
The room froze. Eunjae's chest heaved, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. All his bratty defiance was gone, replaced by a raw, protective fury.
"Stop blaming him for everything! I went to the club. I danced. I broke your stupid rules. Rinwoo was not even here to stop me,He's the only one who has shown me a shred of kindness in this… this prison! Punish me. Yell at me. But leave him alone! He has nothing to do with this!"
His voice rang through the hall, passionate and furious. For a breathtaking second, he was a righteous shield, defending the undefended.
His eyes, blazing, swept across the table and landed on Daon.
The fight drained out of him instantly.
Daon was braced against the table, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge. His face was devoid of all color, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked violently. The effort of sitting upright through the shouting, the tension, had shattered his stoic facade. His breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, and his eyes were squeezed shut against a wave of pure, unadulterated agony.
The sight was a bucket of ice water on Eunjae's fire.
His anger vanished, replaced by a staggering wave of guilt and fear. He had done this. His actions had led to Daon's punishment, and now his outburst was causing him even more pain.
The fight gone, Eunjae's shoulders slumped. Without another word, looking suddenly very young and very lost, he slowly sat back down, his eyes never leaving Daon's pain-wracked form.
The silence that returned was infinitely heavier than before, thick with shame, anger, and unspoken suffering. The empty chair at the end of the table seemed to mock them all.