Seung-ho blinked rapidly, before ushering himself in and closing the gate. He had his eyes fixed on a certain butt, he forgot how to move his legs.
“Your house is magnificent.” he complimented, and Min-a hummed in response. “It sure is a money pit.” Seung-ho watched him pass by what looked like the front door. “I might not know how huge mansions work but I thought we just passed the front door,” he spoke out, pointing back at the front even though his legs still actively followed Min-a. “This door leads to my room.” Min-a let out simply before stopping in front of a gray door attached to the side wall. It was a part of the building that had huge rectangular gray tiles on it and not some see-through glass window. Without another word, Seung-ho followed him through the house, immediately spotting the difference in the air as he got in. He thought he was rich, in fact, he was. He was comfortable with the wealth his art generated for him but this...this building, this fortune was on a whole other level of wealth. They got to a brown door which Min-a opened with a black key card and ushered him in. Seung-ho tried not to gawk at the raw art displayed on the walls of the room. The room was so spacious, that he had a hard time finding the bed till he realized there was no bed there. “This is..” his voice was suspended in mid-air as he viewed a painting that looked homoerotic yet extremely upsetting. The features of the black and red painting seemed troubling but redeeming. “Hmm...this is very impressive, Mr. Influencer.” Seung-ho chuckled, truly impressed. “My name is Seo Min-a.” Min-a corrected. Seung-ho shrugged nonchalantly. “I like Haneul better,” he smirked, earning an eye roll from Min-a, who was now focusing on taking off his shirt. “No one has the right to call me Haneul except my older sister. I don’t want any strange man calling me by that name.” He remarked stubbornly, his shirt discarded as he walked bare-chested to his closet to find a dry shirt. Seung-ho ignored Min-a’s rebuking words, his eyes trailing after his gorgeous body, captivated by how his back muscles tightened and loosened with each step. “When did you start painting?” He asked, moving around from one art piece to another to distract himself from the alluring yet lean body before him. “Fifteen,” Min-a’s voice came back muffled as he pulled on another white shirt. “At first, it was comic scenes and random things. I got serious at nineteen, but no one ever took me seriously. The media only wanted me, and that's how I dominated the Modeling Industry,” he narrated, sounding arrogant. Even in the midst of a sad story, he managed to sound cocky. “You?” Min-a asked, surprising Seung-ho with his attempt at conversation, even after he had walked out on him the previous day. Turning around, Kwan Seung-ho found Min-a clad in white briefs, searching for sweatpants as he leaned over. He tried to drag his eyes away from his perfectly rounded butt before he caught him staring, but he failed. “Mr. Kwan Seung-ho.” Min-a called out, turning around to see his intense stare. Realizing he had been caught, Seung-ho looked away slowly, pretending to admire another art piece. “12,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “My father was a mechanic. He wanted me to be a doctor, or at least learn how to repair a car. Instead, I used engine oil and old clothes as canvas and paint. That’s how I dominated the Art Industry,” he mimicked his earlier tone. Min-a noticed Seung-ho’s blatant staring, but he didn’t mention it at all. “That’s dope.” He replied, shutting his closet door. “You look good by the way.” Seung-ho complimented him, but Min-a just walked towards the exit. “Ready to meet my father?” Min-a asked with a low resting gaze, leaving the door open for him to pass through. Seung-ho strolled and stopped in front of him, taking advantage of the inch difference in their height. “Of course,” he said in a low or barely audible voice, staring into his eyes. They stayed in this position for like a few seconds before Min-a closed the door, grumbling, “ever heard of personal space..” He led Seung-ho toward the main area of the house where Eun Hye and their father were holding a conversation. “We approached him several times, but he refused the offer, so I invited—” Eun Hye nearly shot herself in the foot before she spotted Seung-ho in a well-tailored suit behind her little brother. Relief washed over her, extinguishing the flames of her panic. The disappointed glint in her father’s gaze had nearly made her want to bury herself in the ground. “Mr. Kwan! Pleasure seeing you. I wasn’t aware of your arrival. Please join us,” she stood up to usher him into the room. Seo Jung Ju, Eun Hye, and Min-a’s father also rose to their feet to shake Seung-ho’s hand as he approached, a broad smile displaying on their faces. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Kwan,” he said warmly, offering his hand for a handshake. “The pleasure is all mine, sir.” Seung-ho shook his hand with both of his. Seo Jung Jun was a paragon he had always respected. “What can I offer you?” Jung Ju asked cheerfully. “Tea is fine, sir.” Seung-ho replied, taking a seat while Min-a hovered in the background. “I heard you turned all six of our contract offers down.” Jung Ju went straight to the point as they took their seats. “Seven actually,” Seung-ho corrected with a gentle smile. “I’ve explained to your daughter, sir. I’m not one to be bought out.” He relaxed in the chair, his gaze shifting to Eun Hye, who offered him a persuasive smile. Observing her father’s reaction, she quickly diverted the conversation. “Dad, look what Min-a did with Mr. Kwan’s unfinished painting.” Eun Hye said, showing him a picture of Min-a while he was rounding up Seung-ho’s work. Seo Jung Ju’s eyes glistened with satisfaction. “This is very good!” he exclaimed, shooting his sparkling eyes at his only son with pride. “I wasn't aware you were this good.” Seo Min-a simply shrugged indifferently. He wasn't moved by the praise. He had tried and given up on his father acknowledging his artistic potential for eight years. Now, all of a sudden, when Seung-ho was involved, he suddenly saw something in him. Seo Eun Hye continued, knowing now she had her father's attention. “I want to suggest that Mr. Kwan offers Min-a private classes so he can become ready for the real world out there.” She proposed and Seo Jung Ju nodded enthusiastically in approval of her suggestion. “That’s a good insight, my daughter. It will do him lots of good. Mr. Kwan, what do you think? Would you become my son’s art coach?” He stared at Seung-ho whose eyes left Eun Hye to respond back to her father. “I would love to coach him," he said with a forced grin before turning to face Min-a. “How does 6:30 pm, three days a week sound to you?” “Sounds like a plan,” Min-a grumbled.“You should pick up her call.” Seung-ho suggested. “I don't want to. She's the reason I'm in this mess anyway.” Min-a replied, not realizing how much his words cut through. Seung-ho hummed in reaction, looking out the window without saying another word. “I wasn’t talking about us,” Min-a quickly muttered when he realized, bringing Seung-ho’s attention back to him. “So what were you talking about?” “It's a family issue. It’s complicated.” Min-a shook his head. “Try me. Does it have to do with your father?” Seung-ho knew he hit the nail on the head. Min-a snapped his head in his direction. “How did you know?” He asked, sounding shocked. “Let's just say, I recognize the pressure from an overbearing old man when I see one.” Seung-ho smiled, resisting the urge to reach out for Min-a. “It’s really disturbing,”Min-a's voice almost fell to the same level of a whisper. “Did he kill someone and ask you to bury the body to prove your worth to him?” Seung-ho asked, stifl
Seung-ho got to his feet, rubbing his butt. “Forbidden Garden is a night gay club for Korea's elite. I really don't know how you didn't know about this…” he paused, glancing at him. “I have never engaged in homosexual activities before you. I was a really dedicated closet person, and besides, I didn't have any man then that makes me want to…” Min-a gestured to his surroundings, “do stuff.” He concluded. Kwan Seung-ho instantly understood, pride and joy fueling his system knowing he was really his first, until he remembered Duncan, there was no way they didn't have a history. He brushed off the thoughts of the annoying, attractive man in Min-a’s past. He was the one on a date with Min-a, not him. “The themes change depending on the night and there are only four nights in a month, all Sundays. This night's theme is Masked Glitter, so everyone is gonna wear a mask. It is super discreet.” Seung-ho typed in the unique code for his closet. “Safety should be the least of your wo
They spent the whole day eating the excessive breakfast they ordered for both breakfast and lunch. During that time, Seung-ho taught him his first actual art lesson. He gave him a task to draw the first thing that came to his mind, and Min-a drew an erect penis with a crown on it. Seung-ho chuckled at it, feeling a surge of excitement that led to a passionate make-out session in his home studio, nearly ending with both of them undressed. However, a last-minute decision stopped them from spraying cum all over the place and they settled for light kisses instead. Seo Min-a never felt more alive than ever. He wasn't looking behind him or being too aware of himself or anyone. He roamed free in Seung-ho's shorts and one of his oversized Ford shirts he got as a souvenir from getting a car. Just when he thought the day couldn't get better, he found himself standing in front of a second closet that Seung-ho owned. Yes, the weird, infamous artist owned tw
What Min-a didn't expect was to be lifted up to the ground so swiftly as if he weighed anything. He blushed hard and wrapped his legs around Seung-ho’s waist because he didn't want them to dangle in the air. He didn't have to worry about how they got there at least as Seung-ho kept sucking on his neck, the pleasure blinded him along with the strong grip on his butt. Min-a let out a groan as he was flung onto the bed with so much passion. Seung-ho wasted no time in stripping off his singlet, followed by both his shorts and boxers in one swift motion. Min-a sulked when he didn't have enough time to admire the candy in front of him. Seung-ho was on top of him in a second, his hands on his hips. He jammed his lips into him, kissing him with so much need before helping him out of his clothes. His hands found their way under Min-a's back, sliding down until he cupped his buttocks, and their junks were rubbing together in sync. Another moan escaped Min-a's lips as Seu
They were on the gray Italian minimalistic couch facing the 52-inch Samsung TV, which had enough space for two people to sit apart, but Seung-ho chose that moment to forget personal space as he sat his thighs close to Min-a. “So what movie do you want to watch?” Seung-ho asked, his hot breath fanning his skin. Min-a didn't mind his proximity at all until the situation began to bring back memories…memories from the previous time he was here. The similar blue or kind of purple LED lighting kinda reminded him of the last time Seung-ho made him watch porn instead of a good movie. It wasn't a choice he regretted; it led to his first mind-blowing sex. Thinking back to it caused him an erection which he could hide easily because his shorts were big enough. Deep within him, Min-a craved it again. He yearned for the dominating sexual aura from Seung-ho, his tongue wrapping around his warm, throbbing dick. This was the same couch it all started. The feel of his nak
Seung-ho felt his heart skip a beat multiple times. He couldn't believe he was blushing so hard right now in front of a twenty-two-year-old. He would have asked where all this confidence was coming from but then again, the younger man before him was Korea's number one bad boy. Min-a stared Seung-ho in the eyes, itching to seize those soft, cherry-colored lips again. “No...yeah, I mean- do you mind chips?” Seung-ho stumbled over his words, then quickly moved away from Min-a like he was an appealing drug. His jaw clenched hard and he could feel his erection as he walked to his shelf for the various bags of chips he bought recently. Seung-ho took a moment to suppress his arousal then grabbed five of the bags. He dropped them on his counter, causing various cackling sounds, “oh-we have, ginger pepper.” He didn't care for the product name, it was a stock purchase. Picking up a bluish bag, he read off the body, “we have seafood spice,” Seung-ho was met with disapproval