Forbidden Desire | sunsun

3

The two of them sit in Sunoo's study, Sunoo's books laid out in front of them. His father had asked Sunghoon to supervise him while he reads, so Sunghoon obliged, sitting primly in the stiff wooden chair that makes his back ache as Sunoo smokes a cigarette, reading over one of the covers with light curiosity.

Sunoo had gone home drunk the night of the auction, not much different from how he returned home from his first date with Wonyoung. His fleeting touches to her waist and wrist were as far as he ever dared to touch, and even just by looking Sunghoon could see that Sunoo was only touching for the sake of it. There was no desire behind it.

The shy, innocent boy Sunghoon had come to see him as had disappeared, being replaced with a charismatic, confident businessman moving in the shadow of his father. It was like seeing someone else, and Sunoo was unrecognizable, even when they were alone together. Sunghoon wonders if it has something to do with the party itself because the persona was gone as soon as Sunoo returned to his bedroom.

The painting Sunoo bought now hangs in his study, but without any light to bring justice to the colours, they seem to sag into themselves — lifeless and dull. Part of Sunghoon is grateful because he thinks he might feel sick if he was forced to look at the mocking portrait, knowing it's there only for Sunoo to rub his wealth in his face. He refuses to consider that Sunoo may have had any good intentions behind it.

"I don't want to read today," Sunoo says, leaning back in his chair. He wears his hair in waves today, loose and fluffy around his face as his cigarette sits perched between his long, slender fingers. He flicks his bangs out of his face, squaring his shoulders.

"Your father sounded as though you don't have a choice," Sunghoon says, flipping open the cover to the first page. "So you will read, young master."

"Are you telling me what to do?" Sunoo asks, leaning his elbows on the table. He stares off vacantly at one of the walls, where an ugly, washed-out landscape of a field hangs. The wine-coloured curtains ripple with a cold draft that sweeps under their feet. In another room, a tap drips.

"If I say yes, will you do it?" Sunghoon counters. He leans forward to get a better look at the words at the top of the page. The glow of the lantern makes the edges of the ink blur, melting the letters together.

"Maybe," Sunoo says cryptically, like he's having fun being difficult. Sunghoon clenches his jaw. "I never really liked to read growing up. I didn't find it interesting."

"Is there anything you like to read?" Sunghoon asks noncommittally, not really caring for Sunoo's answer. He doesn't expect Sunoo to give him a straight answer, anyway. He fights the urge to snap at him and tell him to put out his smoke.

"Lots of things," Sunoo says ambiguously, watching the puff of smoke he breathes out rise to the ceiling. He ashes his cigarette in the crystal ashtray, and his nails make a faint clinking sound when they touch the edge of the glass. "I like erotic books, mostly."

Sunghoon hums, turning the page of the book. He didn't expect that answer, but he knows better than to give Sunoo the reaction he wants. "Why?"

"What kind of question is that?" Sunoo snorts. He brings his cigarette back to his lips and looks at Sunghoon with a strange glint in his eyes. "Why else?"

"You've never had sex," Sunghoon reminds him, just to be cruel. Maybe it'll rile him up. "Can you even relate to it?"

"Do I need to have done it to like reading about it?" Sunoo asks defensively, as predicted. His posture stiffens, knowing it's because Sunghoon didn't react the way he wanted him to. Admittedly, Sunghoon doesn't know what kind of reaction Sunoo wanted from him.