Marcus rode the elevator up, each floor feeling like a step closer to something he couldn't take back. The door was unlocked and Marcus let himself in.
The first thing he noticed was music. Something classical, soft and melancholic, drifting from deeper in the penthouse.
It was almost..."don't say romantic Marcus, don't!" he swallowed and walked over to where the sound was coming from.
"Hello?" he called out.
"Kitchen."
Marcus followed the voice and stopped dead in his tracks.
Dae-Jung was cooking. Like actually cooking. He standing at the stove in dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt, hair still damp from a shower, flipping what looked like French toast. The domestic image was so jarring, so completely at odds with everything Marcus knew about him, that he couldn't process it.
"You cook?" Marcus said stupidly, almost regretting he said that— immediately.
Offcourse he cooks, stupid. what's does it look like he's doing right now.
Dae-Jung glanced over his shoulder, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I'm full of surprises. Sit."
"I just came for my jacket—"
"Please sit. Eat first and then we'll talk."
Marcus hesitated, then slowly pulled out a chair at the kitchen island. Dae-Jung plated the French toast—perfectly golden, dusted with powdered sugar, fresh berries on the side and set it in front of him
"Coffee?"
"I—yes. Thank you."
Dae-Jung poured two cups and sat across from Marcus, watching him with that same intense gaze.
"Eat," he said gently
"Tha—thank you."
Marcus picked up his fork, hyperaware of being observed. He took a bite, and—damn it—it was good. Really good.
"You're really full of surprises," Marcus admitted.
"My mother taught me," Dae-Jung said simply. "Before… everything else."
There was a weight to those words, a glimpse of something human beneath the cold exterior. Marcus wanted to ask more, but Dae-Jung continued.
"About last night."
Marcus set down his fork. "You don't have to—really"
"I do." Dae-Jung leaned forward, elbows on the counter. "I don't do this, Marcus. I don't lose control. I don't blur lines. I keep business and personal separate because that's how you survive in my world."
Marcus's chest tightened. "I understand."
"I'm not finished." Dae-Jung's eyes locked onto his. "I don't do those things. But with you, I can't seem to help myself."
Marcus held his breath.
"I don't know what this is," Dae-Jung continued. "And I don't know where it's going. But I'm not going to pretend it's not happening. And I'm not going to let you keep pretending either."
"Dae-Jung—i mean sir?"
"Tell me you don't feel it." Dae-Jung's voice was quiet but intense. "Tell me yesterday in the pantry was nothing. Tell me last night didn't affect you. Tell me I'm imagining this, and I'll back off. I'll keep this professional. But you have to say it and mean it."
Marcus opened his mouth but nothing came out because he couldn't lie. Not about this.
Dae-Jung stood, walking around the island until he stood beside Marcus's chair. He reached out, tucking a finger under Marcus's chin, tilting his face up.
"That's what I thought," he murmured.
And then he leaned down and kissed him.
"Pull away Marcus." he thought as he felt Dae-Jung's lips on his and tongue doing vacation in his mouth.
"Pull away, pull awa—" but he failed. Again.
Dae-Jung hands were already inside his shirt, moving around freely and gripping hard on his hairy black chest and squeezing his nipples.
They kiss was so deep and passionate.Dae-Jung adjusted comfortably and sat on his lap.
"I can't win" Marcus thought.
I just can't.
The kiss lasted exactly Twenty seconds.
Twenty seconds of Dae-Jung's lips pressed against his—warm, firm, deliberate. Twenty seconds of Marcus's brain completely short-circuiting, his body frozen between panic and want. Twenty seconds of everything Marcus had been running from catching up to him all at once.
It was passionate, deep and God he did not want to say sexy. If this was a romance webnovel, Marcus would have described it in perfect action sequence. A deep wet kiss, hands cupping his beards and chin and check...
Shut up Marcus!
Wake up Now!
Wake up!
Marcus jerked back, nearly falling off the chair.
What just Happened? what did I do just now? Lord! No! Please it's all a dream. Wake up Marcus.
"I can't—" He managed as he stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I can't do this."
Dae-Jung didn't fall though. He had great stamina. But something else flickered across his face. Disappointment? Maybe. Frustration? It could be. I mean what he had just done was.....Marcus didn't want to think too deeply.
Plus, It was gone too quickly to tell.
"Why not?" Dae-Jung finally asked. A surprisingly sad tone in his voice. Which was rare.
"Because—" Marcus's hands shook. He shoved them in his pockets. "Because you're my boss. Because this is—this is crazy. Because you don't even know me."
"Then let me know you."
"You don't want to."
"That's not your decision to make, Marcus."
Marcus laughed, but it came out bitter. "You think you want this. You think you want me. But you don't. Trust me."
Dae-Jung's jaw tightened. "Stop telling me what I think."
"I'm trying to save us both a lot of trouble."
"Stop making this hard" he thought.
"What are you so afraid of, Marcus?" Dae-Jung's voice dropped, intense and searching. "What are you hiding?"
Everything.
But Marcus didn't want to answer that question. He didn't know how to. Everyone he's ever told looked at him some typa way.
And as much as he wanted Dae-Jung, he didn't want to create an awkward room full of questions he didn't want to answer or experience past trauma he'd been running from. So he grabbed his jacket from where it hung over a nearby chair. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll see you at nine."
"Marcus—"
But he was already gone, practically running for the elevator again, his lips still tingling from a kiss that should never have happened.
I'm so sorry Dae-Jung, I really am.