Perhaps Sehun was a bit tipsy because he grinned and readily replied, âItâs in the appendix of my contract.â
âWow, that must be the work of Attorney Song. I donât know if I should say she had the foresight or simply knew you well.â
Sehun didnât reply, but Yoonshin felt that the older man silently agreed to both cases. As they momentarily enjoyed the fresh air in silence, a cold breeze surrounded the two men. Sehun leaned back against the rails with his elbows supporting him. With every breath, a puff of smoke appeared then dissipated. Yoonshin chased after it in futility with his narrowed eyes.
Every moment he was together with Sehun felt like a scene from a novel.
They were engrossed in tranquility when Sehun suddenly pulled himself out of the moment. âWhy did you follow me out again? You were with me all day. Letâs get a divorce. Iâm sick of this.â
âYouâre always fresh to me. Iâve never met anyone like you before.â Yoonshin ended up telling what he had heard from Secretary Tak back to the person in question. Sehun scoffed at Yoonshinâs ridiculous reply. Then, with his free hand, he jabbed a finger at Yoonshinâs chest. His long finger pushed into Yoonshinâs shirt like an arrow, then it slowly lifted itself.
Yoonshin thought that was the end of the physical contact, but Sehun touched Yoonshinâs chest again. This time, he didnât take his finger off and slowly dragged it upward, teasing his Adamâs apple. That wasnât the end. Going back the way it came from, Sehun drew his finger down at a slow pace. The unhurried trail downward past his solar plexus and gradually toward his buckle felt unbearably erotic.
It was the first time Yoonshin had ever felt so endangered by the same sex. Sehun presented this feeling each time they met.
Yoonshin swallowed nervously. As the older manâs hand touched his abdomen, Yoonshin grabbed it.
Despite their skin touching, Sehun didnât get angry. He looked amused as he clamped down on his cigarette. He grabbed the back of Yoonshinâs neck, yanking him closer.
âSenior Attorney.â Astonished, Yoonshin tried to call the older lawyer, but it was all for naught. Sehun pulled the younger manâs skinny frame until he was even closer; then, when they got close enough, he snuffed out his cigarette and blew smoke into the younger manâs face. Yoonshin coughed and squinted, his vision filled with Sehun.
âAre you planning on killing me through second-hand smoking?â
âThat takes too long. Itâs also too risky. I wouldnât use that method.â
âAre you drunk by any chance? You did seem to drink endlessly.â
âI did drink a bit more than usual today.â
âWhy? Your arguments were goodâŠâ
Sehun interrupted Yoonshin mid-sentence. âMy head hurts because of you.â
âI donât get what you mean all of a sudden. Did I do something wrong?â
âYou keep pissing me off.â
ââŠâ
âMy headaches and insomnia are pretty bad these days. Itâs all your fault.â
Yoonshin didnât recall making the older man irritated at work or in private. To say it another way, Sehun was picking on him for no reason.
Yet strangely, Yoonshin didnât feel upset by it. The pre-existing emotions that the usually seasoned and professional older man kept hidden probably morphed to a different form. Yoonshin didnât know exactly what those feelings were, but he could feel their existence.
The palm that wrapped itself around Yoonshinâs neck moved. Sehun rolled his hand over the soft skin of the other, massaging it. Where their skin touched, heat naturally arose. Yoonshinâs whole body seemed to heat up along with it.
They were so close to each other that Yoonshin could smell the alcohol mixed with the spicy scent of nicotine in the otherâs breath. The cologne that the older man frequently wore floated on the top notes.