chapter 39

Eun-jae stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling behind him like some dramatic scene out of a movie, only instead of looking like some ethereal protagonist, he felt like a fried circuit board. His long, damp hair stuck to his skin, the ends dripping water down his back in a way that made him shudder. He hated the feeling. Absolutely hated it. It was one of the reasons he usually preferred tying his hair up when it was wet, but right now, he had bigger problems.

And by "bigger problems," he meant the absolute walking headache standing right outside his door.

There he was—Caesar.

That smug, six-foot-eleven thorn in his side.

The bastard was leaning against the wall with that infuriating smirk, arms crossed, looking as if he had been waiting.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Eun-jae's gut twisted, and his brain short-circuited for a split second. Had Caesar been standing there the whole time? Had he—?

No. Nope. Absolutely not. Eun-jae refused to entertain that possibility. He had been in there for a while. Surely Caesar hadn't—

…Actually, who was he kidding? This was Caesar. The man had the audacity of a government-issued tax bill.

Eun-jae took a breath and forced his expression into neutral disinterest. He was not going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.

Unfortunately, Caesar was already enjoying himself.

"Did you have fun?"

And there it was.

Eun-jae's entire soul left his body.

The universe must have personally had it out for him. The absolute, cosmic humiliation.

But instead of reacting like a normal person—like, say, dying on the spot—Eun-jae's sass kicked in like a last-minute defense mechanism.

"Yes, a lot. Now move your ass aside, Mr. Nosy Bystander." His tone was flat, his expression unbothered. Not even a hint of shame. Absolutely nothing to see here, sir.

Without waiting for a response, he shoved past Caesar's stupidly broad chest, pretending like nothing happened, like this was just a normal, non-mortifying interaction between two coworkers. He was going to put on clothes, act like this night had never happened, and move the hell on with his life.

Or at least, that was the plan.

But did Caesar ever make things easy for him?

Of course not.

"Nice nipple piercings you've got."

Eun-jae froze mid-motion.

For a good three seconds, he just sat there on the bed, pants halfway up his legs, completely motionless.

Then, slowly—very slowly—he turned his head to stare at Caesar with the blankest, most unimpressed expression mankind had ever seen.

"Do you wake up every morning and actively choose to be a menace to society, or does it just happen naturally?"

Caesar just chuckled. "You didn't deny it."

Eun-jae rolled his eyes so hard he practically pulled a muscle.

"Why would I?" he snorted, yanking his pants up fully. "I paid good money for these piercings. Unlike you, I have taste."

Caesar's smirk widened. "I never said they were bad. Just unexpected."

Eun-jae groaned internally. He should've never left the bathroom. This was already a disaster.

But then, because this conversation wasn't humiliating enough, Caesar took things a step further.

"You should at least do it with a male alpha or an enigma, at least."

Eun-jae's brain immediately slammed the emergency brakes.

He turned to look at Caesar, completely baffled. "What?"

Caesar shrugged, looking unbothered. "I mean, if you're gonna be getting off, you should at least do it properly."

Eun-jae wanted to throw himself out the window. Or throw Caesar out the window. Either option was acceptable.

Instead, he gave a dramatic sigh. "Oh, great advice. Should I also start taking relationship advice from a manwhore?" he deadpanned.

Caesar ignored the insult as if it didn't even register. "Why not?"

Eun-jae grabbed his towel and started wrapping it around his damp hair, pointedly avoiding Caesar's gaze. "I don't date male alphas. Or enigmas. Or omegas."

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

Caesar tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Why? Is it because you don't like seeing grown men moaning in husky voices and crying like females?"

Eun-jae threw his hands up in exasperation.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!"

Caesar just smirked again, like he was having the time of his life.

"No, you absolute degenerate," Eun-jae said, glaring. "I just don't like men, period. And I'm not planning to sleep with one either, so you can take your suggestions and shove them up your ass."

There. That should shut him up.

Or so Eun-jae thought.

Because then, Caesar's smirk faded slightly. His expression shifted, amusement still there, but his sharp gaze lingered just a little too long.

And then, with an unreadable look, he asked—

"Why? Did you have a traumatic past that involved males?"

Eun-jae's entire body locked up.

His hands froze mid-motion around his towel. His breath hitched—just for a second. A subtle, nearly imperceptible reaction, but he knew.

Caesar noticed.

That bastard always noticed.

Eun-jae's jaw clenched, and for the first time in this entire conversation, he didn't have a snarky comeback.

The air between them shifted.

Thick. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

Eun-jae stared at the floor for a moment, then quietly muttered, "Just… just leave me alone."

His voice was quieter. Less sharp. Lacking its usual bite.

Then he turned away, not wanting Caesar to see his face.

For once, Caesar didn't push.

He didn't laugh.

He didn't smirk.

He just watched.

And even as he finally let the topic drop, Eun-jae knew.

He knew Caesar wasn't going to forget this.

As soon as Caesar turned and walked out of the room, Eun-jae finally let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. The air left his lungs in a quiet, shaky exhale, the kind that felt like it had been trapped inside his chest for far too long.

He stood there for a moment, unmoving, his body caught between tension and exhaustion. His hands curled into the fabric of his towel, gripping it tightly like an anchor, but it wasn't enough.

Then came the trembling.

It started small—just a slight quiver in his fingers. Barely noticeable. But then it spread, crawling up his arms, settling into his shoulders, making his entire body feel unsteady. A chill slithered down his spine, making him shudder despite the warmth of the room.

He hated this.

He hated this so much.

The way his body betrayed him like this—reacting on its own, responding to things he didn't want to feel. It pissed him off, made him feel weak, exposed.

And most of all, it reminded him of things he didn't want to remember.

No.

He wasn't going to let himself spiral. Not now. Not because of him.

Not because of Caesar.

With a sharp inhale, Eun-jae forced his trembling legs to move. He turned away from the door and all but threw himself onto the bed, sinking into the mattress like it could somehow swallow him whole. The weight of his own exhaustion pressed down on him, but he refused to give in to it.

Do something. Anything. Shift your thoughts. Focus.

His eyes darted around the room, looking for something—anything—to ground himself. That's when his gaze landed on the book lying at the edge of his nightstand.

Without thinking, he reached for it, his fingers curling around the worn-out edges of the cover.

The book was one of his favorites—a well-used paperback, slightly bent from years of flipping through the pages. He had read it before, countless times, but right now, it didn't matter. He needed a distraction. Something to pull him out of his own head, to drown out the lingering unease pressing against his ribs.

Flipping the book open, he let his eyes glide over the words, trying to focus, trying to let the familiar story wrap around him like a shield.

But the words felt hazy.

Like they were slipping right through his mind without truly sinking in.

His hands were still trembling slightly, the weight of Caesar's words lingering like a phantom touch against his skin.

"Why? Did you have a traumatic past that involved males?"

Eun-jae shut his eyes, gripping the book a little too tightly.

That bastard.

That absolute fucking bastard.

He had no right to ask that. No right to poke at wounds that weren't his to touch.

Eun-jae exhaled harshly, trying to shake the feeling away, trying to focus back on the book in front of him. He let his gaze drag over the sentences again, forcing himself to read each word slowly.

But his thoughts refused to settle.

His body still felt tense, restless.

Even with the book in his hands, the familiar story, the comforting weight of the pages—it wasn't enough.

Because deep down, he knew.

No matter how many pages he turned, no matter how many words he read—

The past never really went away.

Time dragged on, each passing minute stretching like an eternity. The room was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic hum of a song—"Yad" by Erika Lundmoen—drifting from Caesar's lips as he strolled back in, carrying two bottles of alcohol and two glasses like some self-proclaimed king of debauchery.

Eun-jae barely spared him a glance, too absorbed in his book to care. Not that he was actually reading anymore—the words had long since blurred together—but he wasn't about to give Caesar the satisfaction of thinking he was just sitting around waiting for him.

"You read too much," Caesar drawled, setting the bottles down with a deliberate clink. "Come drink with me."

Eun-jae rolled his eyes but didn't protest, watching as Caesar poured a generous amount of alcohol into the glasses before reaching into his pocket and pulling out some tobacco.

With practiced ease, Caesar mixed it into his drink, stirred it lazily, then took a drag before exhaling a slow stream of smoke into the air. He held out the lighted tobacco toward Eun-jae, smirking like he was offering some forbidden fruit.

"Here, have some. Tastes better like this."

Eun-jae raised a brow, snatching the tobacco from Caesar's fingers. He took a drag, letting the sharp burn settle in his lungs before exhaling smoothly.

"Hmm… not bad," he admitted, taking another hit just for good measure. "Didn't know you had decent taste in anything other than women and chaos."

Caesar let out a low chuckle, tipping back his glass and swallowing a mouthful of liquor. His eyes, sharp and knowing, flickered toward Eun-jae with something unreadable.

"I wonder…" Caesar began, swirling the drink in his glass, "why you never got hard when I put on a little show for you earlier. Naked women everywhere, and yet, not even a twitch."

Eun-jae stilled for half a second before scoffing, tossing back the rest of his drink in one go. The liquor burned its way down his throat, warming his stomach, but it wasn't enough to drown out his irritation.

"That's why, at first, I thought you preferred men," Caesar continued, smirking over the rim of his glass.

Eun-jae let out an exaggerated, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head as he poured himself another drink.

"Pfft. I made it very clear that I don't like men," he said, tilting his head to look at Caesar with pure, unfiltered exasperation. "If the world were left with nothing but men, I'd choose celibacy over letting some dude stick his dick anywhere near me. And as for me? I wouldn't stick my dick in a man's ass if my life depended on it."

He downed another shot, sighing dramatically.

Caesar, however, didn't look the least bit fazed. If anything, he looked amused.

"You know," Caesar murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something heavier. "You make people hard."

Eun-jae choked mid-sip.

"What??" He turned his head so fast it almost gave him whiplash.

Caesar simply took another slow sip of his drink, acting as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb like it was casual conversation.

"Nothing."

Eun-jae narrowed his eyes. "The fuck do you mean, 'nothing'? You just—" He paused, shaking his head. "You know what? Forget it. I refuse to entertain your weird-ass thoughts."

Caesar only chuckled, his grin widening.

"Fine, fine. Let's change the subject then." He leaned back, drumming his fingers against the glass. "Since you claim to be strictly into women, tell me—what's your ideal type?"

Eun-jae snorted, leaning back on one hand as he lazily swirled the liquor in his glass.

"What, is this an interrogation now?" he asked, smirking.

"Maybe."

Eun-jae shook his head but played along anyway, pretending to think it over for a moment. Then, with a confident grin, he said, "Well… tall girls. At least 175 cm. I like a woman with some height, someone who doesn't look like a damn child next to me."

He took another sip before continuing, "I'm not into those thin girls, either. I like some meat on them—curves, y'know? Nice ass, nice tits. She doesn't have to be a supermodel, but she should have that natural sex appeal. And skin color? Doesn't really matter, but if I had to choose, I'd say tan skin. There's just something about it—it's sexy, gives off this natural glow. Tan women are pretty as hell."

Eun-jae downed another shot, his lips quirking into a smug smile.

"Satisfied? Or do you want my full dating history, too?"

Caesar merely grinned, his sharp eyes gleaming with interest. "Hmm. Not bad. You've got a type, at least."

Eun-jae huffed. "Of course I do. Unlike you, I'm not out here trying to fuck everything with a pulse."