​Both of them were silent inside the taxi. Aziel, being quite drunk, could not maintain his balance and dropped his head heavily onto Sojin's shoulder. Sojin, for his part, did not resist and leaned toward Aziel. For a few minutes they went on like that, feeling each other's breathing.

​But suddenly, the cold air blowing inside from the open window of the car sobered them up. Both opened their eyes at the same time and reactively pulled away from each other, as if they had received an electric shock.

— Minho is definitely going to start making us reconcile, — Aziel whispered, fixing his hair. — What do you think about all this, Sojin?

​Sojin looked for a long time at the lights of the city shining outside the window.

— We will pretend that we are together, — he said finally, making his voice cold. — That is the only way to leave Minho in peace. And when the time comes to "break up" again, we will invent a way out.

​Aziel went silent. He knew that "pretending" was going to be much harder than simply hating.

— Fine, — he whispered, — but don't forget that Minho is going to follow everything.

​During the following days, Minho could not stop thinking about Sojin and Aziel. He also wanted to clarify Sojin's and Dohyun's behavior from that day, but for a start, he decided to deal with Sojin and went to visit him.

​A half-dark and cold atmosphere reigned in Sojin's apartment. Minho was sitting on the sofa, trying to digest everything he had seen in Aziel's recent vlogs. He remembered how Aziel was telling the camera about his first love and broken heart, while the followers were giving him strength not to give up. Minho himself was at first advising Aziel to fight, but now, knowing that the talk was about Sojin, he was afraid. He knew Sojin's character; he had seen how heartless he could be with girls, and he was afraid that he would simply destroy Aziel mentally.

​— Sojin... — Minho interrupted the silence, — I want to be sincere. Since when have you been into boys? How many people have you already managed to... meet?

​Sojin, who was opening a bottle of wine, stopped for a moment, then answered cold-bloodedly:

— Aziel is the first. Yet.

​Minho's eyebrows shot up. The shock had not passed yet.

— And how did it happen?

— At first I just wanted him to be my model, — Sojin cut it short, — that's how everything started.

​Minho looked at Sojin's serious face and felt that laughter was suffocating him. To imagine Sojin with a boy... it just seemed unbelievable. He began to laugh loudly.

— Okay, okay... I can't, — he said between laughter, — I'm asking purely out of scientific curiosity... who among you is "on the bottom"? I will simply die of laughter if you say it's you, Sojin.

​The muscles of Sojin's face were tight; sparks were flying from his eyes. He squeezed his fists, restraining himself from throwing his friend out of the window.

— Minho, shut up while you are still alive, — he grumbled through his teeth.

​— Okay, okay, we got serious, — Minho wiped the tears of laughter. — Is the reason for the fight really your style of painting?

— Yes. I am never going to change my style. That is not a topic for discussion, — Sojin said abruptly.

​Minho knew that convincing Sojin was pointless.

— Listen, Aziel is still a child. He is delicate, Sojin. Remember that before talking to him. If you hurt him, you won't escape from my hands. Please, give him a second chance, without aggression. If there is love, one must fight.

​Sojin went silent for a moment, then said in a low voice:

— I promise, I will try not to hurt him.

​Right at that moment, Sojin's phone rang. He went to the other room to talk. Minho, remaining alone, began to inspect the room with interest. He noticed that the look of the house had changed. Driven by idleness and curiosity, he leaned down by the shelf to see the new magazines.

​RING!

​From the sudden sound of the doorbell, Minho jumped up from fear and hit his head hard against the upper shelf. The shelf, which was already loosely fastened, broke off from one side. The large box on top slid and fell directly on Minho. The contents of the box spilled onto the floor, and the box itself "clothed" Minho's head, closing down to his shoulders.

​Sojin came out of the room and froze. The sight was surreal. His ears instantly turned red. The doorbell continued to ring.

— Damn it... — Sojin whispered.

​He opened the door first. It was the delivery man with tteokbokki. Sojin quickly took the food, said goodbye, and turned toward Minho, who had already removed the box from his head and was looking at the items spilled on the floor. On Minho's face was a wide smile reaching up to his ears.

​— Why are you sticking your nose into my things, idiot, — Sojin got angry, but his voice was trembling with embarrassment. — You broke my shelf too...

​Minho began to laugh so loudly that his breath was catching. Various types of sex toys were scattered on the floor.

— So... — Minho was bent double from laughter, — so you really are "on the bottom." I don't believe it... I can't picture this scene.

​Minho's legs weakened; he fell to the floor on his knees, continuing to roar with laughter. He picked up one of the toys and extended it to Sojin:

— Sojin, do you seriously use this on yourself? My God, my eyes are bleeding.

​Sojin was ready to explode. He was red to the roots of his hair.

— Collect all of that right now and come to eat. Or else get the hell out of my house right now, — he yelled.

​Minho, with tears in his eyes, barely restraining his hysterical laughter, began to collect the toys into the box. During that time Sojin, trying to maintain his remaining dignity, began to set the table for the tteokbokki, though his hands were still shaking from rage and embarrassment.

​— Come on, don't be angry, Sojin, — Minho said, sitting around the table and picking up the chopsticks, — it was just unexpected. I am still trying to digest the fact that my roughest friend is actually... — he snickered again, — okay, okay, I'm keeping quiet.

​Sojin swallowed a piece of the spicy tteokbokki.

— Just eat and shut up, Minho.

​Minho ate a few pieces, but his mind was occupied with something else. He remembered that moment of the dinner when Sojin and Dohyun had embraced while drunk.

— Sojin, now seriously. That day at the house... you and Dohyun. What did the expressions "you have a heavy hand" or "you hit painfully" mean?

​Sojin froze for a moment. He was not expecting Minho to remember that detail.

— It was the delirium of a drunkard, — he cut it short, — just manly jokes.

— I don't believe it, — Minho looked straight into his eyes, — you were talking as if you had gone through a war together. Are you not telling me something?

​— Minho, you are digging too deep, — Sojin's voice became cold, — it is better if you think about Aziel. If you want us to try again, then don't dig into what does not concern you.

​Minho understood that Sojin was closing into his armor again. He decided to back off for now, but inside him, the seed of suspicion was already planted.

— Fine, I will talk with Aziel. But promise that before giving him a second chance, you will forget that "boss" persona of yours. He loves you, Sojin, even if you love those toys more than him.

​Sojin choked from the spiciness of the tteokbokki and Minho's audacious joke.

— Get the hell out of my house, Minho! — he yelled, but this time inside his voice there was not hatred, but desperation from the hands of his indecent friend.

​Minho, laughing, took his jacket and went toward the door. He was satisfied; he felt that although everything was tangled, he was controlling the situation. Or at least, so he thought.

During the work shift, Minho approached Aziel, winking at him and whispering in a low voice:

— You know, Aziel, Sojin probably hasn't shared a bed with anyone for a very long time. He is definitely restless from his desires. Use that to make up. The way to any boy's heart is through the bed.

​Aziel felt how the warmth rushed up to his face. He missed Sojin terribly—not only his presence, but his body as well. Those words gave him a final shred of hope.

​After work, Aziel went to Sojin's workshop. He was preparing to enter, but suddenly stopped. Strange sounds were coming from the inside. He pushed the door half-open. Aziel's heart began to beat like crazy, pounding against his chest. Hearing the quickened breathing and muffled groans coming from within, he froze for a moment. The thought crossed his mind that Sojin, having been alone for a long time, was simply masturbating. Aziel imagined him alone, touching his own body and giving in to pleasure, and that thought gave him hope that by going inside, he could fill that void and reconcile.

​With a trembling hand, he carefully pushed the door, expecting to see his beloved's loneliness, but what opened up before his eyes was a true nightmare. The world collapsed over his head when he saw Sojin not alone, but in the embrace of a strange boy. That stranger was holding Sojin with passion and dominant movements, and the latter, completely surrendered to that moment, didn't even notice Aziel standing in the space of the door. Seeing how the stranger's hand was sliding across Sojin's body, Aziel felt his breath cut short. Choking back his tears and flipping over his own destroyed hopes, he turned around and fled from there with a broken heart.

​When the boy inside, forgotten in passion, changed their position, Sojin's gaze fell upon the half-open door. He stopped abruptly, and his body tensed like a wire. That workshop was his territory where no one dared to set foot without warning beforehand, especially when he was personally there. Even his cold-blooded mother, who could enter during his absence, would never allow herself such a thing if she knew her son was inside.

​Sojin's rage began to boil. He did not like the fact that someone had dared to violate his privacy, knowing that he was on the spot and without even warning in advance. That insolent intrusion for him was more than just curiosity; it was a rough violation of his boundaries, which he was not going to forgive.

​After sex, Sojin, still completely naked, stood smoking in the center of the workshop. The boy who was with him approached and embraced him from behind, whispering into his ear:

— I look forward to our next meeting.

​He was smiling as if Sojin already belonged to him.

​Right at that moment, the anger inside Sojin hit his head. He turned around abruptly and looked with a cold, killing gaze at that boy, who still continued to smile foolishly. Without hesitating for a single second, Sojin extinguished the burning cigarette on that boy's face, and in the next moment, knocked him to the ground with a blow.

— You are crossing the line, — Sojin whispered furiously through his teeth, looking down at the groaning boy on the floor. — Keep yourself like a well-behaved dog by my side.

​The boy, screaming from pain and fear, began to flee from the area, while Sojin yelled angrily after him:

— If I see your foot in this area one more time, I will rip your leg off from behind!

​The boy, shrieking from pain and fear, fled almost naked from the workshop, while Sojin, still shaking from rage, tried to calm his breathing. He approached the computer and turned on the recording of the outside cameras. When Aziel's face appeared on the screen—at first full of hope, and then broken and tearful—something exploded inside Sojin. He struck the table with savage force so that the items on top—the paints, brushes, and tools—were thrown in different directions.

​He picked up the bottle of whiskey, lit another cigarette, and lay sprawled exhaustedly on the sofa, trying to drown the inner nightmare. However, his gaze was suddenly fixed on the wall. There was the full, magnificent portrait of Aziel, and around it, dozens of sketches and nabroski (outlines). In them, every single part of Aziel's body was drawn with a maniac's precision: his delicate neck, his hands with long fingers, his tight chest, and most importantly, his nipples with that beautiful golden piercing.

​At first, Sojin felt only rage. He wanted to splash the whiskey onto those papers and burn everything that connected him to that boy with one touch. But when he approached the wall, his gaze changed, becoming darker and full of yearning. He lowered his gaze to his groin and saw that his penis had hardened.

— Damn it... — he muttered under his nose, blending disgust and self-irony into his voice. — During sex it didn't even harden once, but from these stupid drawings...

​He let out a heavy sigh and slowly sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wall covered with drawings. In one hand was the bottle of whiskey; in the other, he held the sketch of Aziel's abdomen. He began to drink, not stopping to look at the image, then set the bottle aside and began to smoke. He raised his head up, tore other drawings from the wall, and began to inspect them. There was Aziel's neck, chest, hands...

​Sojin took the drawing of the pierced nipples. He threw the cigarette away, brought the drawing close to his face, and pressed it completely against his skin. He began to breathe the paper in deeply, as if Aziel's real scent should come from that piece of paper. He began to masturbate, squeezing himself tightly with his fingers.

​The silence of the workshop was ringing with his loud groans.

— Aziel... Aziel... — he repeated that name as if it were a prayer or a curse.

​The number of drawings scattered around him was increasing, but that was not enough for him. He rose to his feet, approached the main canvas where Aziel was depicted in the most sexual and tempting position. Sojin's movements became sharp and fast. He looked at every single line, every single shadow of the drawn Aziel, until he finally came. The semen spurted right onto the canvas, defiling the painted body.

​When his breath slowly evened out, Sojin began to examine his "deed." For a moment, a deep sadness and pain appeared in his eyes, but seconds later, that same cynical and cold snicker appeared on his face.

— It became more ideal this way, — he said aloud and began to laugh like a madman, walking away from the canvas and leaving Aziel's image under the traces of his own passion.