Chapter 10
The hum of the office was quieter than usual, but Gyu In's senses remained sharp, attuned to every whispered word floating through the corridors. Rumors, as inevitable as the ticking clock, began to swirl - nothing official, just hints and half-formed sentences about a former actor linked to a CEO. Words like "druggie" and "scandal" flickered past like shadows, but Gyu In refused to let them settle.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the polished desk. His gaze stayed fixed on the cityscape beyond the window, but inside, the weight of gossip pressed quietly against his thoughts.
How does a druggie climb up to Sir Kim Gyu In? So shameless. The words echoed in his mind. He trusted Eun Wol, he reminded himself firmly—not because the world offered second chances, but because what Eun Wol showed him here and now was all that mattered. The rest was noise.
The tightness in his head refused to loosen, pressing at the right side like a relentless woodpecker, sharp and insistent. A tingling ache bit at his throat, bitter and unwelcome. He inhaled slowly, forcing himself to anchor in the present.
"Sir Kim," Hae Won's soft voice came from outside the office. "I noticed you haven't eaten lunch yet. Should I order something for you?"
"No." Gyu In squeezed his eyes shut as if he could block out the world. "Just make me a cup of tea."
Footsteps faded, and shortly after, a soft knock tapped at the door.
"Sir Kim?" Hae Won's concern slipped through the calm. "I can postpone your remaining meetings."
"No need." Gyu In exhaled, the sound harsh and uneven. "Just give me a moment and the tea. It's just a migraine."
Hae Won sighed, noting silently to push the afternoon branch meeting by an hour. "Alright, sir. Take a break. Your next meeting isn't for another two hours. All the documents are arranged."
Gyu In relaxed his shoulders slightly, eyes still closed. "I know I can always trust you."
Hae Won lowered his gaze, shadowed by the sweep of his hair. "Of course, Sir Kim."
Time stretched and crawled as Gyu In forced himself through meeting after meeting. Smiles pasted on. Words rehearsed, hollow. Each page of paperwork pressed against him, a reminder that the day was far from over.
Finally, he closed the last file with a soft thud and let out a long sigh. Home. The thought was a small beacon—warm water, a quiet cup of tea, maybe even a tart to calm the frayed edges of his nerves.
He sank into his car seat, pressing a hand to his forehead, trying to shove away the lingering tension. But the silence was deceptive. His mind refused to settle. It tugged at him relentlessly, pulling him back to Eun Wol, to the subtle tightness in his chest whenever that name surfaced.
The city's hum outside dimmed, drowned by the insistent, unignorable urge not to go home. Not yet. He turned the key in the ignition and let the car roll toward the bar, where Eun Wol waited, unaware of how deeply Gyu In's heart was already entangled with his.
*
Later that evening, the bar was dim and familiar—the kind of place Eun Wol usually felt safe in. But tonight, even here, the air carried a sharp, unfamiliar edge.
New faces drifted in, eyes sharp and calculating. Eun Wol recognized them immediately, just as they recognized him. They had come intentionally—their gazes swept the room until they landed squarely on him.
Eun Wol's shoulders tightened, eyes flickering with unease. His hands curled slightly at his sides, gripping the bar towel a little too tightly. Still, he refused to step down. This was his sanctuary. A place that had accepted him when everyone else had turned away. He wouldn't let these people ruin it. Not for him, not because of him.
He tightened his jaw and turned back to the glasses, hands moving on autopilot - arranging shot glasses, polishing the rim of a coupe, grounding himself in something tangible. He reminded himself repeatedly: as long as they didn't cause trouble, he wouldn't intervene.
But the bar felt smaller now. Shadows stretched longer. Every whispered laugh or clink of glass sounded sharper, louder, closer than it was. The tension pressed against him, and his pulse thumped harder with each passing second.
"Hey."
Eun Wol glanced sideways. A man leaned too close over the bar, smirking, his eyes bold, intruding.
"I said I'm calling you!"
Eun Wol exhaled slowly, letting the tension seep into his bones. If they wanted to disrupt his calm, he wouldn't let it happen behind the bar. Not where the staff could get caught in the crossfire. Not in his space.
He stepped out. One hand still wiping condensation from the glass he held, Eun Wol rounded the bar with quiet, deliberate calm, forcing himself to meet the challenge head-on.
"Well, well," one of the men sneered, stepping closer. "Thought you could ignore us just because you have Kim Gyu In behind you?"
Eun Wol barely blinked. "Unless you're ordering a drink, I don't owe you a single word."
Then a hand shot out, gripping his arm.
"You think you're still somebody just because you're sleeping with a CEO?"
Another roughly spun him by the shoulder. "Answer me when I'm talking to you."
Eun Wol's balance faltered. His chest tightened, heat flaring in his ears. His fingers itched to push them back, to defend his space, but he hesitated, caught between fear and pride. Rage bubbled, but before it could form into words.
A voice, smooth and cold, cut through the tension like a knife.
"I suggest you take your hand off him."
The room seemed to freeze.
They turned.
And there he was.
Gyu In didn't shout. He didn't raise his voice. He stepped in as if the floor belonged to him, every movement effortless, controlled. The audacity before him seemed almost laughable.
Without hesitation, he draped a casual arm around the shoulders of the man still holding Eun Wol. Fingers light but firm, a subtle but undeniable claim.
"Watch your mouth," Gyu In said, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "That's my man you're talking to."
The air between them snapped. Silence fell, immediate and heavy, like glass shattering without a sound.
Eun Wol exhaled, barely aware of it. Relief coursed through him, mixed with the familiar warmth of being seen, protected, not just physically, but in the quiet, unspoken way Gyu In claimed him.
*
Silence hit like a dropped glass. One by one, the three shrank back, the smirks wiped clean. The man's grip fell away. Gyu In didn't spare them another word but only a look that said: Try again, and it'll be your last mistake.
"I didn't see you here, Mr. Kim—"
"Get lost," Gyu In cut in coldly. "I just remembered that I signed a deal with your father two days ago. I wonder how he'd feel if I suddenly withdrew."
Eyes widened. Panic twisted across their faces. They bowed low and scurried off hurriedly. When the door finally shut behind them, the noise of the bar resumed like nothing had happened.
Gyu In let out a slow breath. The pain in his temple throbbed still, sharp and stubborn. But seeing Eun Wol shaken like that? That made something twist in his chest.
"You alright?" he asked.
Eun Wol gave a small nod, eyes lowered. But his shoulders stayed drawn tight. He wasn't sure how to make sense of the feeling bubbling in his chest. He should've been able to hold it in. Somehow, Gyu In's presence loosened something. Made him feel safe. Made him feel like it was okay to breathe.
Gyu In stepped forward, the air around him shifting like the calm after a storm. This was their moment.
Eun Wol caught Gyu In's gaze - steady, protective, fierce. Despite the tension threading through the room, he managed a small smile. Because sometimes, the smallest gestures held the loudest promises.
Gyu In reached out gently. His hand found Eun Wol's wrist, sliding up until it curled around the back of his neck. Not rough. Not rushed. Just his. With one soft tug, he pulled him close. Their foreheads brushed.
"He's mine," Gyu In whispered again.
Softer this time. For no one else to hear. Like a promise.
Eun Wol could practically hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. He bit down on his tongue, stumbling back a step like he needed space to breathe. Redness crept up his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck, flustered.
"Erm… you want to try a new type of mocktail?" he blurted.
Gyu In smiled faintly and shook his head.
"No. A glass of plain water will do."
"Wait, seriously?"
Gyu In only shrugged. "Yep. Just bring it over."
He scanned the place, picked the darkest corner he could find, and quietly settled in. Eun Wol delivered the water but his eyes kept flicking over, a strange tightness in his chest each time he looked.
Gyu In sat with his eyes closed, a faint crease between his brows, radiating exhaustion. Unapproachable, but not cold. Just… worn down.
Eventually, closing time came. Eun Wol walked over, gently tapping his shoulder.
"Hey. We're closing."
"I'm not asleep," Gyu In said, smiling without opening his eyes. "But I could use a wake-up kiss if you want me to move."
Eun Wol arched a brow. "Oh? Let's see what I've got lying around…" He disappeared briefly, returning with a bucket of mop water.
"Here's something fresh. Want a splash to the face?"
Gyu In's eyes flew open, hands up in surrender.
"Whoa! No need to get violent! I'll wait for you outside!"
He snatched up his coat and made a quick escape, leaving behind laughter and Eun Wol's barely contained smirk.
Soon, Eun Wol spotted Gyu In leaning on the car door, body tense, frowning. Concern tightened his chest.
"Hey, if you're not feeling well, you don't have to send me," he said, touching his hand to Gyu In's.
"Ah, you're done?" Gyu In went to the other side, ignoring the question. "Come, let me drive you back."
Eun Wol frowned, noticing how Gyu In's steps faltered and his jaw clenched. He said nothing and let Gyu In slide into the driver's seat. Then—click. Eun Wol unbuckled, reached across, and pulled the keys from the ignition.
"Move."
Gyu In blinked, caught off guard.
"You're clearly not well. Just move."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. Stop pretending you are."
A pause. Gyu In sighed quietly, letting someone else take over. He climbed to the passenger seat. Eun Wol started the car, typing in the GPS.
A lump rose in Eun Wol's throat, barely swallowed.
"Forty-five minutes…" He realized Gyu In had been driving him here, every night, for weeks.
"It's my pleasure," Gyu In murmured softly.
Eun Wol stole a glance at him. Lean, fragile, softened by exhaustion. The usual steel in his eyes flickered like a candle struggling against the dark. His chest tightened, and he drove in silence.
The car rolled to a quiet stop in front of a building that looked nothing like the glossy skyscrapers they usually moved through. The modest exterior was simple, clean, comfortable rather than flashy. Eun Wol's brow lifted in surprise.
"Is this… your place?" he asked, curiosity breaking through the haze of the night.
He stole a glance at Gyu In as he drove. The man looked smaller than usual, lean and almost fragile in the dim streetlights. The sharp angles of his face softened under the weight of exhaustion, and the usual steel in his eyes flickered like a candle struggling against the dark. Eun Wol's chest tightened, a silent pull he wasn't ready to name yet.
Gyu In's head dropped at a slight, awkward angle, leaning against the car window. His breathing slowed, steadying as he slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep like a baby finally allowed to rest.
"Gyu In, we're here," Eun Wol whispered, careful not to break the fragile silence. Even as the words left his lips, he knew this softness probably would not wake him. Eun Wol put the car in park and looked over. The soft rise and fall of Gyu In's breathing made him smile quietly. This man could sleep anywhere, anytime, and still look like he owned the world.
"Hey, Mr. Sleepyhead," Eun Wol whispered, nudging him gently. "Are you going to sleep in the car?"
Gyu In attempted to sit up but swayed, blinking sleepily. Eun Wol's heart clenched. This wasn't just exhaustion anymore. He breathed out slowly as an idea popped into his head. He went over to the other side.
"Hey, I'm just going to carry you. All you need to do is tell me your floor and unit."
Gyu In groaned, eyes half-closed. "I'm too heavy. Let me call you a ride back. Sorry—"
"Quiet." Before he knew it, he felt an arm slide under Gyu In's thighs and back. Gyu In tensed briefly but soon relaxed again.
As Eun Wol lifted, a sharp crack shot through his back, and he winced.
"Okay, okay," he muttered, setting Gyu In down gently. "No bridal carry."
Instead, he braced himself and let Gyu In climb onto his back for a piggyback.
"Piggyback rides are better for you," Gyu In whispered, sleepy breath warm on Eun Wol's neck.
Eun Wol squared his shoulders, ready to play chauffeur, when Gyu In suddenly stirred, eyes fluttering open just enough to mumble.
"Okay, okay, first, left at that big weird tree, no, no, the one that looks like it's waving."
"Waving tree?" Eun Wol blinked.
Gyu In nodded seriously, then winced. "Wait, wait, wait. No, the second lamp post, no, the third. No, the second. Yeah, second lamp post after the bakery. Or was it a café? Or a bakery-café?"
Eun Wol snorted but said nothing. "Alright, second lamp post after the bakery-café."
Gyu In grinned, eyes half-closed. "Good. Good. Then the third door on the right. Blue mailbox, or maybe it's green. It's definitely one of those."
Eun Wol groaned internally but let the chaos flow. "Blue or green mailbox. Got it."
Gyu In gave a sleepy thumb-up. "You're a natural. I'm going to make you do this forever."
Eun Wol chuckled. "No way, I'm charging overtime for this."
Gyu In laughed softly. "Worth every penny."
It took another twenty minutes before Eun Wol finally reached Gyu In's house. But then another problem popped up. How was he going to get the door open?
"Mr. Sleepyhead -" Eun Wol started, but before he could finish, a hand slid past his head and pressed a thumb against the finger scanner. With a soft click, the door unlocked.
Eun Wol slipped off his shoes and stepped inside.
"Last room…" Gyu In mumbled sleepily.
Eun Wol carefully settled Gyu In onto the bed, feeling the soft weight ease against the mattress. The room was cloaked in quiet dimness, the pale light from the city outside slipping through the dark blue curtains like a whispered promise. A faint scent of worn leather and lavender lingered in the air, grounding Eun Wol in the stillness.
He smiled unknowingly as he looked at the sleeping Gyu In. So this is how he looks when he's sleeping. Quite cute.
Eun Wol took a quiet step toward the door, ready to leave Gyu In to rest. The exhaustion in his body was almost contagious, but his heart was still pounding, something unspoken tugging at him from behind.
"Don't go."
The words came soft, barely brushing the silence. Gyu In didn't move or reach out. He simply lay there, eyes half-lidded, voice rough with sleep but clear in what he wanted.
"I just… don't want to be alone tonight."
Eun Wol froze, surprised. The blanket remained clutched gently in Gyu In's hands, offering all the comfort he could allow himself to ask for. Not a demand. Not a plea. Just a quiet truth laid bare in the dark.
For a moment, everything else slipped away. There was only this fragile space between them, filled with trust neither had asked for but somehow found.
Eun Wol's breath hitched. Slowly, he stepped back toward the bed.
"Alright," he said, voice low and warm. "I'm not going anywhere."
The tension in the air eased, but the weight of the moment stayed. Eun Wol sat down at the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving Gyu In. Even if he did not reach for him, his words had reached far enough.
Gyu In gave the faintest nod, eyelids fluttering shut. His breathing began to slow again, the tension ebbing from his body like waves pulling back to sea.
Eun Wol remained seated, watching the rise and fall of Gyu In's chest, the quiet settling between them like a lullaby.
For the first time in a while, the night asked nothing more from either of them, except to rest.