Noah walked out of the bathroom, water still clinging to his face.
He hurried down the hallway outside the set, footsteps light and unsteady, his heart a tangled mess.
The audition was over. The director had smiled and said, "Nice performance," but Noah didn't feel good about it at all.
He'd just been kissed—really kissed—by the film emperor.
And not just that… Asher had used his tongue.
In front of a whole room full of people.
Noah couldn't understand how anyone thought he'd "responded naturally." He hadn't. His mind had gone blank. He couldn't act—he could barely think.
He was just too shocked to move.
But why was his heart still pounding like this?
Why were his ears still burning?
Clenching his jaw, Noah made his way backstage, hoping to find a corner where he could pull himself together. The production schedule was tight today—he had a one-on-one meeting with the director coming up and he had to calm down.
But the moment he turned the corner, he ran right into Asher.
"...!"
He froze mid-step, instinctively trying to go around, but Asher moved faster—stepping sideways to block his path.
"Where are you going?" The low voice carried a chill.
Noah lowered his gaze. "...Nowhere."
"You don't look too good." Asher took a small step closer, scanning him slowly from head to toe. "Face is red. Like you just ran five kilometers."
Noah instinctively touched his cheek, trying to back away—but his shoulder hit the wall behind him.
They were in a narrow hallway beside the props room—quiet, secluded, the lighting dim. In an instant, Noah found himself pinned between the wall and Asher, completely cornered.
Asher glanced down at him, then suddenly reached out and tugged lightly at his collar.
It wasn't rough—actually, it was almost gentle. But Noah flinched like he'd been burned.
"Don't move," Asher murmured.
His fingers slipped beneath the edge of Noah's shirt, pulling the fabric slightly aside.
Under the light, just above Noah's collarbone, there was a faint red mark—a spot that had been accidentally bumped earlier.
It wasn't obvious, but it wasn't hidden, either.
Asher narrowed his eyes, studying it like he was admiring a delicate piece of art.
"Do you realize," he drawled, voice slow and lazy, "a rookie like you... has a body that sells."
Noah reacted like a startled kitten, instantly bristling.
"Y-You can't just say that!" he stammered, pulling his collar back. "I'm not that kind of person—"
"What kind?" Asher raised a brow, still teasing. "The kind who gets flustered from just one kiss?"
Noah's entire face turned crimson, like he was burning up.
That sentence—"a body that sells"—paired with his current flushed state, was shamelessly flirtatious.
"I was just… I was surprised," he muttered, eyes down, avoiding eye contact. "I've never filmed a scene like that before… It's not what you think…"
Asher didn't reply right away. He just stared, gaze steady and unreadable.
That calm, almost overwhelming presence made Noah's scalp tingle.
He didn't want to stay this close for long. If this continued, he was afraid he might do something… stupid.
Like during that kiss—he hadn't pushed back.
Just as Noah was about to excuse himself quietly, Asher suddenly asked:
"Have you… never been kissed before?"
Noah froze.
He looked up, eyes wide.
"What are you even talking about…"
Asher met his eyes and chuckled softly. "Just a guess."
"Well, you're wrong."
"Am I?"
Noah felt like he'd stepped into a trap—every word he said only dug him deeper.
He didn't know if Asher was teasing or being serious, and that uncertainty was worse than anything.
Because… he hadn't been kissed before.
Not truly.
Since debuting, no one had ever really gotten close to him—let alone kissed him off-camera.
Especially not the way Asher had, with his tongue slipping inside like it belonged there…
Noah clenched his fingers and muttered, "Y-You're making things up. We don't even know each other."
Asher didn't seem bothered by his defensiveness. His tone was still casual: "We'll know each other soon."
Noah blinked.
Asher leaned down suddenly, breath brushing right against his ear:
"The script has a lot more kissing scenes. Get used to it. Some are even deeper."
"W-What do you mean…"
"You don't get it?" Asher straightened slightly, voice smooth like a lecture. "Chemistry between characters comes from physical familiarity. If you don't loosen up, it'll look stiff on camera."
Noah opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
This was supposed to be a professional conversation, but he felt completely exposed—like he was standing there half-naked, unable to hide under the thinnest layer of clothing.
Asher turned to leave, but before he did, he casually tugged Noah's collar back into place and added in a low murmur:
"Don't let anyone else see. …Only me."
When he finally walked away, Noah slid down the wall, breath caught in his throat, heart beating so fast it might explode.
He stared at his tightly clenched shirt hem, throat painfully dry, not daring to even touch the place Asher had pulled open.
That heat—it still lingered on his skin.
What did Asher mean by all that?
Was he… flirting?
Or just playing with him?
Noah couldn't tell. All he knew was, ever since Asher got close, his body had been heating up uncontrollably. His ears still buzzed. His knees felt like jelly.
And those words—
"Have you never been kissed?"
"You won't look good on camera if you stay stiff."
"Don't let anyone else see. Only me."
Each one hit like sparks landing in his chest, burning him from the inside out.
He knew what kind of person Asher was rumored to be. The gossip in the industry was endless. Asher didn't lack resources or opportunities—he could easily toy with whoever caught his eye.
Maybe he just thought Noah looked decent.
Maybe it was just for fun.
But still…
Noah bit his lip and buried his face in his arms.
But still, just now—
Why hadn't he pushed away?
And worse—
Why did it feel like…
It wasn't that bad?