Into The Thrill

"Ah, the warmth of that man has probably not yet left the empty spot next to him. While Haewon was having rough sex with Kim Jaemin, Taeshin was also with another man. Indeed, in the middle of the night like this, some are naked, matching their bodies together."

Taeshin spoke endlessly in a voice lost in something, recounting how flustered he had been, how nervous, how wonderful it felt. Haewon simply listened without a word.
Was this the fruit of a long and tiresome unrequited love?
It made no sense rationally. If that man truly existed, a public prosecutor wouldn't just impulsively embrace someone who made an impulsive confession without considering the consequences, especially not if the other was someone as oblivious as Taeshin suggested. But Taeshin seemed to think there were no ulterior motives. Haewon had neither the will nor the heart to tell him that he might be being used in his voice filled with joy.

Most of Taeshin's school friends from the arts high school were quite well off, but Taeshin's family was among the wealthiest. If Taeshin had helped the prosecutor in a case involving his father's friend, there had to be something exploitable that the prosecutor saw in Taeshin. Haewon had known Taeshin for over ten years.
Haewon rolled over smoothly, changing his position. He expected Kim Jaemin to be asleep but their eyes met. Kim Jaemin was staring at him intently.
This is what love is.

These are the eyes of someone who likes someone.
If it was love, he wouldn't have left Taeshin alone in a hurry. Because that's what an animal in love does.
Kim Jaemin reached out and gently grasped Haewon's hair, not enough to hurt but firmly enough to turn his face towards him.

"Enough with the bed ratings. Just go to sleep."
Haewon spoke to the ecstatic Taeshin on the phone and hung up. Kim Jaemin took the phone and turned it off. The device fell with a thud onto the soft carpet under the bed.
"I'm more interested in hearing the rating of this side."

He murmured languidly and moved his lips closer. Haewon closed his eyes and spread his legs in front of the approaching figure.
After another session, sleep did not come easily. Kim Jaemin fell asleep immediately after climaxing. Haewon, tired but unable to sleep, lay in bed until the dawn started to light the sky a pale blue. He lightly dressed and left the hotel room.
The 24-hour lounge was empty except for staff busily preparing for the breakfast service starting at six. He had a coffee and left the bustling environment, feeling strangely out of place.

He thought of a place where no one would be around and headed to the swimming pool. He borrowed a swimsuit from the front desk staff. In the empty changing room, he stripped and changed into the palm-sized swimsuit. After a quick rinse in the shower, he walked through the hall to the pool.
The distinctive smell of pool disinfectant was refreshing. As expected, the pool, with its eight lanes, was empty. It was still early. His footsteps echoed in the empty space, and the sound of water adjusting the pool's level resonated in the high ceiling.
Haewon dove into the water. The temperature was tepid, not cold, and he swam to the opposite end of a lane. He didn’t have the energy to turn back.

Reaching the other end, he hung onto the lane divider, catching his breath. He wiped his wet face and lifted his blurred vision. He thought he was alone, but someone was making waves in the next lane, approaching swiftly.
The person's strokes were flexible and strong, effortlessly slicing through the water at a remarkable speed. It was impressive, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ certainly someone who was either a professional swimmer or had been swimming for a long time. Unlike Haewon, who had stopped at the other end, the man turned swiftly and propelled himself forward with that momentum.
Haewon took some more breaths and switched to backstroke, moving slowly forward. After a few laps, he left the pool.
Under the frosted glass partition of the shower, he stood and adjusted the ill-fitting swimsuit that had left red marks around his hips and thighs. He took it off, hung it on the partition, and turned on the shower. The warm water poured down. He squeezed some liquid soap, applied it hastily to his body, and lathered up.

He enjoyed the strong stream of water on his head, standing as if dozing off, then suddenly turned his head. Through the frosted glass, a silhouette was visible. Someone was showering in the next stall. Despite the many other available spots, it was precisely next to his.
Not too short himself, Haewon noted that the man was at least a head taller. Ah, it must be the man who sliced through the water like a dolphin in the next lane.
Although not clearly visible, the outline through the frosted glass was enough to suggest a well-trained physique. Below where the frosting ended, the man's feet were visible. Following his gaze up, well-developed thighs and a dark shadow between them were visible. His hand slid down to his crotch, the movements suggesting considerable size and weight, even if obscured.

Haewon had always found it hard to understand people obsessed with maintaining their physique. Apart from basic exercise to keep up his stamina, he had no interest in bodybuilding, thanks to inheriting good physical traits from his father.
A well-maintained body like that must be the result of diligent self-care.
Rather than feeling envy, Haewon was intrigued as he turned his head forward again.

After showering, he headed to the changing room. He picked up a towel from the stack and dried off. Habitually covering his lower half with the towel, he sat on a bench by the lockers and shook his wet hair when he heard footsteps.
By some coincidence or perhaps careless arrangement by the staff, the swimmer approached Haewon's locker area. Haewon continued to shake out his hair, paying no attention.
"Is this yours?"

Startled by the sudden voice, Haewon turned his head.
He swept his disheveled hair back with his hands and looked up at the man. A small swimsuit, dripping with water, was precariously hanging from his second finger.
"Ah."

Haewon uttered a dumb sound and just stared at the swimsuit hanging awkwardly from the man's finger. As he flicked his finger, a drop of water fell onto Haewon's thigh.
"It's mine."
Without saying thanks or sorry, Haewon snatched it from his hand. He placed the damp piece of fabric on the towel he had been using to dry his hair.

The man said nothing more and inserted a key into the opposite locker to retrieve his clothes. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Haewon glanced down at the swimsuit on the towel then sneakily turned his head away. As he dried the moist area between his legs with a dry towel, his eyes met with the man's. The glimpse through the frosted glass was neither imagination nor exaggeration.
"..."
Those eyes, unburdened yet piercing, seemed too proud to speak anything but the truth.

Where had I seen him before?
Unwittingly, Haewon found himself staring at him for a long while before recalling last night in the lounge. The man who had been with the woman with the meticulously done pedicure. Just looking seemed to overwhelm others with sharp, slowly sweeping eyes. And as he turned away indifferently, his face seemed to be smiling.
"..."

Haewon decided to take the man's laughter as nothing more than a passing occurrence and corrected his gaze. He casually shook his hair and opened his locker. The freshly washed, clear face reflected back at him from the locker's mirror. As he bent to retrieve his underwear, red marks on his neck and shoulders caught his eye, and he realized what the man had been laughing at. Wrapping his hand around his nape, Haewon glanced at the man in the mirror and hesitated when their eyes met again.
Neither of them avoided the other's gaze. It wasn't some petty contest of who would look away first. It was just that being there made them look at each other, and that moment stretched out as if it lasted forever. It was the man who looked away first, his phone ringing. In the mirror, Haewon saw him lower his eyes and bring the phone to his ear.
"Yeah, it's me."

His voice matched his appearance, a deep baritone.
"Let's arrange a meeting soon. I've already checked, so tell them not to worry."
Despite knowing Haewon was listening, the man's tone didn't shift to acknowledge it, remaining emotionless as if giving work instructions.

Haewon draped a towel around his neck to cover the red marks Kim Jaemin had left and put on his underwear.
After ending the call, the man practically threw his phone down and quickly dressed. His movements were efficient and by the time Haewon had put on his trousers, the man had fully dressed and was walking out of the changing room. Haewon hadn't paid him much mind, but once he was gone, Haewon's breathing became noticeably heavier, as if he had been holding it back.
Facing his reflection in the mirror, Haewon removed the towel covering his neck and shoulders. The marks were noticeably prominent. Continually leaving such marks wasn't a good sign. Haewon touched the kiss marks scattered across his upper body and grimaced.

Kim Jaemin was awake. As soon as Haewon entered the hotel room, he asked where he had been. Haewon didn't answer and picked up the phone lying next to the bed. Trying to turn it on after Kim had shut it off the night before, he found it dead, likely discharged. He simply pocketed the phone.
"Did you go swimming?"
Kim seemed curious about Haewon's early morning activity.

"I like to exercise."
"You don't look like you enjoy it."
Kim wrapped his arms around Haewon from behind, feeling his stomach and chest. There weren't many muscles, not the kind formed by exercise, anyway. Kim's lips moved along the sloppy kiss marks he had left on Haewon's neck and shoulders.

"I have work today."
"I thought you didn't play for money."
"It's not that. I have a lesson."

"You teach?"
He sounded surprised. It was an implied question about how someone as disinterested in others as Haewon could possibly teach. Haewon didn't argue but looked at him intently.
"I'm not teaching. I'm taking lessons."

"You're taking lessons? Why?"
He seemed genuinely puzzled, as if he had heard something unbelievable.
"Can't I take lessons?"

"I thought you left the symphony because you hated that."
"It was tolerable, but I left because of other things I hated."
Things like the regimentation and cliques that would be challenging for anyone, not just for someone with Haewon's personality. Leaving a prestigious symphony was not about courage; it was because Haewon's father was wealthy enough to afford it.

Despite Haewon's general indifference to others and his penchant for severing social ties, he was still someone who navigated society. He had to maintain at least some connections to survive, considering that his father might bankrupt or crazily cut him off.
Life becomes shabby without money. Haewon didn't want to live shabbily. He wanted to sleep in hotels, use knives in fancy restaurants, continue wearing his favorite brand of clothes, and attend concerts without worry. He wanted to be stimulated by other musicians' performances. And most importantly, he wanted to avoid a situation where he might have to sell his instrument.
It was strange. Lacking great passion or attachment, yet he wanted to avoid that at all costs. Thinking this, Haewon suddenly considered taking out a few insurances against the worst-case scenario and turned his head towards Kim Jaemin.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"
"..."
Haewon stared at Kim, who still hadn't let go of his embrace. Suddenly, everything felt bothersome. Haewon wasn't one to meticulously prepare or be proactive. He'd attend lessons sporadically, work occasionally, and if the worst came to pass and he had to sell his instrument, then he might as well sell his body.

Breaking free from Kim's stubborn grip, Haewon grabbed his wallet, sunglasses, and violin case.
"I have a mixing session today. How about we meet for dinner?"
"I have plans tonight."

"Coming tonight?"
"If I can make it. Don't wait up."
Leaving him behind with a wistful gaze, Haewon exited the hotel. Stepping out of the lobby, the morning sun stabbed at his eyes. He shielded them with his sunglasses. The piercing sunlight was as uncomfortable and irritating as the bustling morning. Haewon reached out for a waiting taxi.

∞ ∞ ∞
"You're putting too much tension in your shoulders. Relax."
It didn’t seem like I was tensing up much, but the professor always said the same thing. The white hair at his temples had already turned gray, and the prestigious music school professor had been guiding Haewon since the entrance exam for Yewon.

When Haewon was nine years old, the young college student insisted that Haewon had perfect pitch and had to pursue music. At that time, Haewon’s father threw a lot of money into the air to find a good teacher for his son. Haewon, not very eager to learn, didn’t get along well with the forceful teaching style. While he never ran away from lessons, when he didn’t want to do something, he wouldn’t respond to anything the teachers said.
The teachers, who didn’t care as long as they were getting paid, would go through the motions of teaching and leave, so Haewon’s skills never improved, no matter how good the teacher was.
The professor, who had produced world-renowned violinists, would never give lessons for the measly fees that were offered to the average students. Luckily, thanks to Haewon’s wealthy father, Haewon had the opportunity to perform in front of him. It was a level that could be called indifferent to anyone, but he decided to take Haewon on as a student.

Under his guidance, Haewon was able to enter Yewon. When Haewon was a first-year student at Yewon, the professor was already in his thirties, a full professor at a prestigious music school. Now, he was the department head at the same university’s music faculty and still gave Haewon lessons—free of charge.
It was the professor who found the violin Haewon had, a violin that even other professors coveted. There was a line of people willing to pay extra just to perform in front of him, but despite not knowing his place, Haewon didn’t want to take lessons from him. The person who left voluntarily wasn’t someone who had been dismissed from the symphony but rather an unknown freelancer.
"Your shoulders are too stiff."

The professor, who had been watching from behind, grabbed Haewon’s arm as he drew the bow long. His hands, greedy for Haewon’s talent, slid up Haewon’s arm, almost like caressing an object he wanted to purchase.
Haewon lowered the violin he had been holding between his chin and shoulder. Maybe it was because he hadn’t slept well the previous night due to Kim Jaemin, but he didn’t feel well physically.
The professor’s hands gently massaged his shoulders with a soft but firm grip. The notes, tangled on the sheet music, lay there waiting for someone to turn them into sound.

Haewon’s violin, which was professionally tuned at least once a month, and the body of the performer playing it. The professor had repeatedly emphasized that the body of the performer was an instrument too.
"Trills need to be practiced every day before you start the piece. Don’t rush to play the piece right away."
"Okay."

"Start slowly, like with vibrato, release the tension in your muscles, and then speed up."
Haewon picked up the instrument and placed it on his shoulder. He gripped the bow with his right hand. He lightly placed the bow on the strings. The E string wasn’t the usual one he used—it had been replaced with a different brand, and every time the bow touched it, the feeling was different, and the tension was higher, making his fingers hurt more than usual.
"Relax your fingers in the lower positions. Relax your shoulders. Relax your arms too. You can do it at a fast tempo, but why isn’t it accurate at a slow tempo? Focus on your fourth finger while playing. I always emphasize this, but the important thing is the correct finger positioning."

Every time the professor gave an order, Haewon corrected himself one step at a time.
"Bow control. Don’t do it thoughtlessly, interpret as you play."