His hands were trembling so badly it was visibly obvious, but somehow, he managed to knock properly. After a few seconds of silence, the door opened.
The interior was exactly the same as he’d seen that morning. Even the mocking smile of the goddess looking down at him hadn’t changed. Yeonwoo ignored the sneering goddess of love and beauty and lifted his head.
Keith had changed clothes. He wore soft cotton pants and nothing on top. It was expected, given the massage, but Yeonwoo found himself unable to decide where to look and quickly lowered his gaze. Still, what he had already seen was burned into his brain too deeply to forget.
His heart pounded like it was about to explode. The sound of it thundered in his ears. If every nerve in his body hadn’t already been fixed on Keith, he might not have even noticed the man moving.
Keith glanced at him and turned away. Yeonwoo caught the motion with the corner of his eye as Keith climbed onto the bed.
“Um… if you have lotion… that would be… ideal.”
His voice cracked midway through, and he coughed to cover it up. Keith silently pointed toward the adjoining bathroom. Yeonwoo rushed inside.
The layout wasn’t much different from the one attached to his own room, just much bigger. The items inside were roughly the same. In the spot where Yeonwoo usually kept his own medications, there were also a few over-the-counter pain relievers and basic first-aid items. That’s where he found the lotion.
When he returned, Keith was already lying face-down on the bed, his head turned slightly toward Yeonwoo’s side.
Thankfully, his eyes were closed. If they had made eye contact, Yeonwoo would’ve collapsed on the spot.
The carpet muffled his footsteps. To make his presence known, Yeonwoo let out a quick cough and approached. Keith didn’t open his eyes. Before touching him, Yeonwoo quietly asked:
“Mr. Pittman, are you asleep?”
He kept his voice low, just in case Keith had dozed off. If so, he’d quietly leave—he didn’t want to wake someone who’d admitted he was tired.
But Keith answered right away.
“No.”
Yeonwoo let out a faint, awkward smile and opened his mouth.
“Then, I’ll begin now… Please let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.”
He added the line as a kind of warning, but Keith didn’t respond. Yeonwoo poured out a small amount of lotion and rubbed it between his hands.
Placing his palms on Keith’s back took a monumental amount of courage. The perfectly sculpted back he’d only seen in commercials was now right in front of him. It became difficult to breathe. Was it even possible for another body like this to exist in the world?
A straight spine and tight, swimmer-like back muscles made it feel like testosterone in physical form. The lean definition from broad shoulders to a narrow waist was intricately woven, like there wasn’t even a single percent of fat permitted anywhere.
God. Just being allowed to touch this body made him feel like he’d used up every ounce of luck in his life. He honestly wondered if he even deserved this.
But he’d already made the choice to accept it. There was no turning back. Yeonwoo tried to take a deep breath—but then immediately held it. If he smelled Keith’s pheromones in this state, that would be the end of him. Imagining that terrifying scenario, he forced himself not to breathe.
His trembling fingertips made contact with Keith’s skin. In that instant, he thought his heart had stopped.
But he couldn’t let himself get caught being aroused. He pressed his palms firmly to Keith’s back.
It had been a long time since he’d last done this. Trying to recall what he’d learned while simultaneously being overwhelmed by Keith’s presence made his brain feel like it was burning.
After applying pressure along the muscle lines a few times, he asked:
“Is the pressure alright? Would you like it stronger? Or softer?”
Keith seemed to think for a moment. The fact that he hesitated made Yeonwoo anxious. Would he tell him to stop? He was torn between relief at the possibility and regret that the moment would be over so soon. While waiting for a reply, Yeonwoo kept both palms on Keith’s back. He pretended not to notice the shameless desire to stay like that as long as possible—or the guilt that followed it.
“…Keep going.”
The answer made his heart leap and his mind swirl with confusion and joy. I might actually die of heart failure. But at least I’ll die happy, he thought. He spoke again, careful to keep all feeling out of his voice.
“Then I’ll continue.”
Keith said nothing more. He kept his eyes closed. Yeonwoo dared only glance at him briefly—he didn’t have the courage to stare. He moved his hands automatically, applying pressure along the muscles, massaging the shoulders and neck.
It seemed muscle memory really didn’t fade with time. His body moved on its own without needing to consciously recall each technique. And so, he allowed himself to quietly memorize the sensation of Keith’s body beneath his hands—even if that indulgence was stained with guilt.
Ah.
A sting pricked the back of his nose.
If I were a woman… you would’ve slept with me.
If I were a woman, I could touch you like this without guilt. I could kiss you. I could even tell you I liked you.
Even if it only lasted a few weeks—or a few days—it would still be better than being someone who isn’t even allowed to dream.
“…Ha.”
Suddenly, Keith let out a soft chuckle. Yeonwoo startled and glanced at his face. Keith still had his eyes closed, but there was a faint smile on his lips. Had he remembered something amusing? Just as Yeonwoo wondered, Keith spoke:
“How long did you do this?”
Yeonwoo thought back, then replied:
“About three to four years, on and off. Just during vacations, so… if you add it up, probably less than a year in total.”
The longest stretch had been during the time he was between jobs—maybe four months at most. And even that had been several years ago. He hesitated, then asked:
“Sorry, I might be a little rusty…”
“No, you’re good.”
Keith smiled again. Yeonwoo’s heart skipped a beat.
“I asked because you were good. You really are diligent.”
“…I did try to learn it properly.”
Relieved, he responded. Then Keith opened his eyes. The half-lidded violet gaze met his.
Yeonwoo froze, hands still resting on Keith’s back.
Keith looked tired. His usual sharpness had softened. His expression was relaxed, even peaceful, with a faint smile still lingering there. Yeonwoo couldn’t look away.
Ah.
He snapped out of it and quickly turned his head. This wasn’t the time to get caught up in how he felt. He focused on the massage. Now wasn’t the time to savor the feeling of Keith’s skin beneath his hands.
Especially not when Keith was still watching him.
Yeonwoo struggled to maintain a professional demeanor, directing all his attention to his hands. The silence felt suffocating. He grasped for something to say—anything. Finally, he found something.
“You’ve been seeing Ms. Parker for quite a while now.”
The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. What if he sounded jealous? He tried to hide his expression, lowering his upper body and working on an area farther away—hoping to stay out of Keith’s line of sight.
“Who?”
Yeonwoo was caught off guard by the sudden question. Did he seriously not know who she was? Uncertain, he responded with half disbelief.
“Ms. Naomi Parker. The person you’ve been seeing lately. You met her at the hotel today as well.”
He remembered and quickly added:
“Should I go ahead and book her again for tomorrow?”
“Ah…”
Only then did Keith let out a vague sound, as if things finally clicked. But in the next moment, all interest disappeared from his face. Yeonwoo was surprised by how indifferent his reaction was. Keith closed his eyes again and turned his head to the side.
“Not tomorrow.”
Keith didn’t meet with someone every single day. Sometimes it was every three days, sometimes four. But lately, he hadn’t gone more than three days without it, and recently it had been almost daily—so Yeonwoo had naturally assumed. Which led to him making a mistake.
“Are you alright?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Keith turned to look at him—as if to say, What’s that supposed to mean? Yeonwoo stammered.
“I-I just meant… she seemed like someone you liked, and since you’ve been seeing her nearly every day…”
He trailed off, trying to cover it with excuses. Keith opened his mouth.
“Liked her? Who said that?”
The more he talked, the deeper the hole got. Yeonwoo felt his face flush hot as he mumbled:
“I only assumed that since you’ve been seeing her frequently. I’m sorry.”
Keith’s expression shifted. More precisely, he scoffed at him.
“People sleep with someone just because they like them?”
Yeonwoo was once again at a loss for words. It took him some time to even begin to process that. So then what was it? Wasn’t that the reason Keith kept calling Naomi? And what did it mean he didn’t enjoy it? Was Steward right—that it was all just to drain pheromones?
Suddenly, he remembered Naomi’s glowing praise of Keith’s skills.
So he was that good, even if he didn’t enjoy it?
A complicated silence settled between them. Keith was still looking at him, clearly waiting for an answer. Desperately rifling through thoughts, Yeonwoo finally managed to speak.
“I think… sex with someone you love would feel happy.”
“….”
Keith didn’t reply. He just stared at Yeonwoo with that same unreadable face—as if looking at something pathetic. Which, of course, he was. Pathetic. Why had he said that to this man, of all people?
The longer the silence dragged, the more embarrassed he became. His cheeks burned with heat. When he forced an awkward smile, Keith twisted his lips.
“I thought Grayson was the only one who lived off fantasies.”
It was an obvious mockery. Yeonwoo should’ve just apologized. But instead, he made another mistake.
“It’s not fantasy—it’s being a romantic.”
Shit, he realized—but it was too late. Keith was glaring at him, visibly displeased. Yeonwoo quickly dropped his gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
Whether the apology was accepted or not, or Keith just no longer felt like dealing with him, he turned his head away again. Yeonwoo returned to the massage in silence, then, gathering some courage, spoke up again. If he didn’t ask now, he never would.
“If you don’t enjoy it… is there any reason to change partners that often?”
“Haa.”
Keith let out a deep sigh. Yeonwoo was about to apologize again—he regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. But before he could say anything, Keith answered first, sounding tired.
“No matter who I sleep with, it’s all the same. But if I stick to one person, they’ll get the wrong idea. The media would start making noise too.”
And with that, Yeonwoo understood. He was just tired of it. Of people falling for him.
Even after only a couple of months—sometimes less—people ended up completely obsessed with him.
He didn’t need to look at anyone else to understand. He was the proof. Yeonwoo had fallen at first sight, and years later, he was still suffering through this illness. Every time he’d thought he was done, all it took was one glance—just a single look—and he was back to square one. Again, and again, endlessly.
Lately, it felt like he was living in a dream. Sharing the same house with Keith, eating meals with him, even having conversations like this.
Keith had even held him.
Sure, it was only because he’d had a panic attack. But still, every time Yeonwoo thought about that moment, his chest ached so much he wanted to cry. His heart burned hotter and stronger than ever before—and it might never cool down again.
If Keith hadn’t been so kind, maybe Yeonwoo could have believed it was just a childish crush. That it would fade eventually.
But if Keith ever found out how he felt—
Yeonwoo realized just how far away he truly was. He had always known Keith was out of reach, but this moment felt like having it stamped and notarized.
You? Never.
Keith wasn’t the type to belong to anyone.
Especially not him. Yeonwoo doubted Keith had even once imagined him as a possibility.
He deliberately busied his hands again. Tried to focus on the work, to shake off the thoughts—but his mind wouldn’t settle.
Then why does he keep seeing her so often?
And more frequently than usual… He’d thought that meant Keith genuinely liked her.
Conflicted and unfocused, his fingertips began to tingle faintly. He didn’t know if he was feeling hurt or just clinging to hope. Either way, he moved his hands mechanically, going through the motions.
“…Haa.”
Suddenly, Keith sighed again. Yeonwoo stopped and looked at his face.
“Shall I stop now?”
There was clear fatigue in that exhale. He seemed ready to drift off, so Yeonwoo asked cautiously. He kept his voice quiet, afraid of waking him if he’d already fallen asleep. Keith didn’t respond right away. Was he asleep?
Thinking that, Yeonwoo gently lifted his hands.
He moved silently, preparing to leave the room—when suddenly, his wrist was caught.
Startled, he inhaled sharply and turned around.
Keith was looking at him with his eyes wide open.