Chapter 1

　　No, it couldn’t be. In a BL novel, the guys who pulled crap like that were usually one-off extras. If this were a real BL universe, then right about now….

　　"Ah! Watch out!"

　　"I’m sorry."

　　…the main-lead-top would conveniently spill his drink all over the extra.

　　The unbelievably handsome guy standing next to him spilled his drink all over the "pretty damn handsome" guy I’d just been acknowledging—instantly reducing him to a potato in my mind.

　　When I looked up, his face belonged in a museum. Strong eyes set beneath thick brows, a smooth, straight nose, and under that, a stubborn, sharp mouth. His features were so perfectly chiseled that he could have been the literal blueprint for being scientifically handsome.

　　When the soaked extra scowled up at him in annoyance, the man just stared back with an expression that didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse. The extra who’d been flirting with me quietly scurried away. The handsome man, still frowning, dropped into the empty seat next to me and glared.

　　"Stop dropping it everywhere."

　　Dropping what? You’re the one who just spilled your drink! What are you even on about? Wait. In this situation, is he implying I should stop dropping hints everywhere I go…?

　　What the hell am I even thinking?!

　　My brain must have rotted from reading too much BL. Why was I turning random people into gay romance tropes? Even if it was a dream, this was getting out of hand.

　　He probably just meant I shouldn’t drop food from the appetizers all over the place. I had downed a few drinks already, so I had been a little clumsy. I made a rough assumption, flashed an apologetic smile, and introduced myself.

　　"Sorry about that. I’m Han Taewoon. What’s your name?"

　　The man downed the rest of his drink in one shot and glared at me like he wanted me dead. What’s his problem? What did I even do?

　　"With a brain like yours, it’s a miracle you actually got accepted here. Impressive."

　　What? Why was he picking a fight out of nowhere? Even I had a limit to my patience. Did I seriously have to put up with this crap in my own dream?

　　But if I got into a fistfight here, the shock might wake me up. I had to stay as calm as possible.

　　"Are you in the Korean Ed Department too?"

　　"Physical Ed."

　　"Huh? But this is the welcome mixer for Korean Ed. Looks like you came to the wrong place."

　　"Seems that way."

　　So that was it. If he’d wandered into the wrong party, he was probably just drunk. He answered clippedly and chugged more booze. Guess he wasn’t very friendly. He seemed like a total asshole, too.

　　"Haha, well, what a coincidence—let’s be friends!"

　　I flashed an easygoing smile and thumped him on the back a couple of times. I was still a little irritated by his attitude, but I meant it as a genuine, friendly gesture.

　　Maybe the alcohol hit him all at once, because his face flushed bright red. He suddenly shot up from his chair, glared daggers at me, and stormed off.

　　Wait, why is he angry?

　　In a BL novel, when a guy acts like that, it’s usually because the protagonist is his first love, and he’s sulking that he wasn’t recognized.

　　Startled by my own thoughts, I shook my head hard. What kind of delusion was that? My brain really had completely rotted from reading nothing but BL for three years.

　　Once I wake up, I am never reading another BL novel ever again. I already fulfilled Seongjae’s last wish anyway.

　　Thinking of Seongjae made my heart turn bitter all over again. At times like this, it seemed better to spend even a little more time with him.

　　I didn’t know when I’d wake up from this dream.

　　I glanced around and cautiously stood up. Everyone looked busy, laughing and shouting over the noise. This was my chance to slip out. As I tiptoed toward the door, my wrist was suddenly snatched.

　　He’s the top. When I turned my head and saw the man standing in front of me, I was one hundred percent sure this guy was the top.

　　Gentle, friendly-looking eyes. Slightly light-colored, wavy hair. He looked a little lean, but he had broad shoulders that gave him a model-like silhouette.

　　If I had to put hashtags on him, they’d be: #ManipulativeTop #AssholeTop #TwoFacedTop

　　The ones who look like natural sweethearts are always the ones who enjoy humiliating and playing with the bottom. I bet this guy loves toy play. He probably keeps a vibrator in his pocket at all times.

　　Crap. My thoughts were derailing again. This was serious. I think I was actually losing my mind.

　　But I had my reasons. For one thing, every man I’d run into tonight was ridiculously handsome. Like, unbelievably handsome—so striking it kept reminding me of those novels where the author spends three pages praising a character’s looks.

　　I thought those kinds of faces only existed in print. Maybe it was because I was dreaming, but in such a short amount of time, I’d already met not one, but two impossibly handsome guys.

　　"Where are you heading, Hyung?"

　　Since he was teasing me about my age, he must know I took a gap year. I didn’t know who he was, but I played my role in the dream and answered smoothly.

　　"Oh, I’m just stepping out for a smoke."

　　"Yeah? I’ll come with you."

　　He followed me out. It felt burdensome, but it seemed better to talk outside than in that noisy room, so I went along without complaining.

　　When we turned into a narrow alley, he followed close behind. I was about to just be honest and tell him I’d only agreed to come out as an excuse to go home. But when I turned around, he was already leaning against a crumbling brick wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

　　A hazy stream of smoke scattered and muddied the night air. He held his pack out to me.

　　"If you don’t have any, take one."

　　"No thanks. I just said that because I needed an excuse to slip out. I don’t smoke."

　　When I was in high school, my parents died, and I had to raise Seongjae, who was five years younger than me. I had to pinch every penny. I couldn’t afford to waste a single cent on luxuries like cigarettes, so I’d never even tried one.

　　For a split second, I looked at the offered pack. It’s free—would it be okay to try it just once? But I shut the thought down. Seongjae came first. I needed to get back to Seongjae.

　　"Anyway, I’m gonna take off."

　　"Taewoon."

　　"Yeah?"

　　I was in a hurry—why was he calling me? I wished he’d just get to the point, but instead of answering, he pulled the corner of his mouth into a pleasing curve, then lifted it into a full smirk.

　　He took another drag, and then suddenly stepped right into my space. What is he—? Before I could even process what was happening, he pressed the lit cigarette right into my shirt collar to put it out.

　　The cherry burned out, leaving a scorched black ring on the crisp blue fabric.

　　My eyes widened in absolute disbelief.

　　"What the hell are you doing?"

　　He could’ve stomped it out with his foot—why put it out on someone else’s clothes? What kind of psychopath does that? It was my dream, but there were way too many shitty people in it. Seongjae, this dream is weird.

　　"Looks like I accidentally ruined your shirt. Are you free this weekend? I’ll buy you a replacement. That shirt didn’t suit you anyway." I pretended I didn’t hear his smug little add-on. What was wrong with this shirt? I picked out the one that looked the most expensive in my closet!

　　And "accidentally," my ass. A guy like him who "accidentally" did something twice was the type to burn down a house for fun.

　　Still, no matter how weird this was, I was getting to see my family again. I could tolerate this much. The time I’d waste getting angry would be better spent just going home. I pushed against the man’s shoulder, seeing as he was still right in my face.

　　"It’s fine. It wasn’t expensive."

　　I tried to laugh it off and leave, but his solid shoulder didn’t budge an inch. He looked lean, but beneath his clothes, his muscles were tightly packed. Not only did he block my way, he grabbed my wrist again—the very hand that had been pushing him.

　　"Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet, Taewoon."

　　I don’t have any business with you. I tried to ask nicely for him to let go, but his grip was like iron. In the end, I resorted to a classic trick that had worked since the dawn of time.

　　"Oh! Hey, what are you doing here?" I waved at the empty space behind him, acting thrilled to see someone. The second he turned his head, I bolted.

　　"Taewoon!" I heard him calling after me from behind, but I ignored it. Seongjae, I’m coming!

　　But I didn’t even make it a hundred yards before my wrist was snatched again.

　　Jesus Christ. Who is it now?

　　A man a little taller than me was breathing hard as he glared down at me. But he wasn’t the same guy who’d spilled the alcohol earlier. Even though he was glaring, his eyes were unbelievably gentle.

　　#GentleTop #DevotedTop #LoverboyTop

　　I tagged him in my head without even meaning to. No! Why am I like this? I’d been doing it every time I saw a handsome guy tonight. It was because I never saw people who looked like this in real life, that’s why.

　　"Taewoon, why aren’t you answering your phone?"

　　Since he knew my name, we must be close. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen. Seventy-two missed calls. A cold chill shot down my spine. Wh-what the hell?

　　#ObsessiveTop

　　No, stop it. What is wrong with me?

　　I scolded myself and plastered on a smile, hiding how utterly creeped out I felt.

　　"Sorry. I guess it was on silent."

　　"I told you to call me when the welcome mixer was over. You can’t hold your liquor. Do you know how worried I was? I thought you might’ve passed out in a gutter somewhere."

　　I’d been mistaken. He wasn’t an obsessive top—he was just a genuinely kind, considerate friend. The unfamiliar handsome guy let out a heavy sigh and swept his sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes. If the earlier guys crushed people with their raw good looks, this one had a magnetic presence that completely pulled you in. Either way, it just meant he was unfairly handsome.

　　"Are you heading home?"

　　"Yeah. I’m kind of feeling the alcohol. I’m gonna go home and rest."

　　I needed to get home and make dinner for my Seongjae.

　　Worry clouded the man’s expression. I hadn’t said it just to make him anxious, but if it got him to let me go home faster, I’d take it. Trying to free my wrist from his grip, I offered a tight smile.

　　"I’m exhausted, so I’m just going to head out first."

　　"Are you really that tired?"

　　My wrist didn’t budge an inch. What kind of dream was this, anyway? I was no pushover in the real world, but every single guy in this place was built like a tank.

　　My pride took a minor hit, but I brushed it off. I don’t have time for this! I need to go see Seongjae!

　　The man’s expression shifted. He stared at me with grim determination, as if he had just made a life-altering decision. What the hell did he just decide? Why did he look like he was gearing up to go to war? He finally broke the silence, his tone careful.

　　"If you’re really that tired, do you want to rest somewhere nearby before you go?"

　　"Huh?"

　　Where was there to rest around here? I tilted my head in confusion. The man’s gaze drifted past my shoulder. When I turned to follow his line of sight, I found myself staring at a building with a glaring neon sign.

　　LOVE MOTEL

　　"You don’t look like you can make it home like this," he said. "Let’s rest for a bit, and then you can go."

　　Even as he tried to play it cool, his fingers subtly tightened around my wrist. The look in his eyes was identical to the male leads in the BL novels I used to read. It was the exact description of that sultry, predatory stare a top gives right before he pins a bottom to a bed.

　　It usually went something like this.

The top’s eyes roamed over the bottom’s entire body, practically flaring his nostrils as he burned with the desperate need to pull him into his arms. His pupils, blown wide with greed, had long since darkened with bloodlust, fully intent on claiming his prey. Under that relentless gaze, the bottom flinched and trembled. At this rate, he would be dragged away by the top and lose his innocence…

　　At this point, I almost resented Seongjae. Seongjae, I am becoming weird. Why do I keep thinking about BL tropes? Am I losing my mind?

　　Snapping back to reality, I rejected the offer, which sounded like a sleazy pick-up line but was probably meant as genuine kindness.

　　"No, thanks. I’ll just go home and rest where I’m comfortable."

　　Thankfully, he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he pulled out a set of car keys.

　　"Then I’ll take you home. Let’s go."

　　"Huh? Are you sure that’s okay?"

　　"Yeah. I didn’t drink because I knew I’d be picking you up."

　　Yes. That meant I’d get to see Seongjae a little sooner. I followed him toward where he claimed his car was parked, but as we walked, a sinking feeling settled in my gut.

　　"Is this the right way?"

　　"It’s just a little farther down."

　　Isn’t this heading straight into the motel strip, though?