Work Text:
The Skyline Serenity Room in Bangkok offered a paradoxical blend of urban energy and serene seclusion. The entire northern wall was a meticulously engineered privacy window, allowing for an uninterrupted, panoramic view of the bustling city below. From this height, the endless stream of traffic became a silent, glittering river of lights, and the iconic skyscrapers stood like majestic, illuminated giants. Yet, despite the splendor and lavishness of the location, Geum Seongje was barely moved. His eyes skimmed over the overblown description of the hotel suite that some intern had probably worked hard to write (or taken the help of AI if today’s youth were to go by) only for him to chuck it in the bin.
To him, the real view was something else.
In densely packed cities like Bangkok, it was not uncommon to have hotels or apartment buildings within twenty to fifty meters of each other where direct sightlines into other rooms were possible, especially at night. Contrary to popular belief, it was harder to get a peep in during the daytime because the windows acting like a mirror, reflecting the sun.
The camera Seungje had set up on his tripod would afford him a high-res view of his targets. Lit cigarette in hand and a can of chilled Carabao in the other, he settled back to wait.
The subjects walked into the frame around 9:08 pm, a little under an hour later.
Yeon Sieun, more popularly known by the moniker, Park Jihoon, ambled into view. He was still clad in the white shirt and faded wash jeans ensemble he’d put on earlier that morning, his cheeks red from being out in the Thailand heat. Seungje watches him make a beeline for the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of water and begins gulping it down.
Click.
The other person enters the frame. Tall. Wide. Familiar with the way he walks right up to Sieun and takes the bottle from him, giving the bottle the same treatment Sieun had been prior.
Too familiar, as he throws the now drained bottle to the side, and pulls Sieun to him, pressing their bodies and mouths together.
Click.
When his editor, Baekjin, had told him he was to tail Yeon Sieun to Bangkok to catch him in flagrante , he’d been secretly pleased. Seongje had been following Sieun around since his debut into the industry and had grown attached. In his mind, Sieun was his .
He waited for rage to consume him, irrational, white-hot and all-encompassing, but surprisingly all he feels is curious. Yeon Sieun dating a man doesn’t come as a surprise to him, but him dating renowned MMA fighter Ahn Suho does.
Broad-shouldered with a tapered waist, Ahn Suho was what they described a precision-striker. In the ring he moved with the grace of a cobra, his moves economical, his stance always balanced. Though his expression always sported an air of boredom, the quiet intensity in his eyes was unmistakable. He wasn’t at the top for five years in a row for nothing.
The only reason Seongje retained this trivial amount of information was because Park Humin, known more popularly as Baku, had been second to Suho for that same amount of time. Yet, their rivalry was friendly and good-natured, unlike the one between Baekjin and Baku.
Where and how his partner had crossed paths with a character like this surely intrigued Seonjge but it irked him just as much. Na Baekjin wore a mask of cold indifference like the rich wore their expensive perfumes, a subtle yet pervasive aura designed to keep the uninitiated at a distance. It made Seongje want to pry the mask off with a crowbar, to reveal ugliness that lay beneath, the one that reared its head whenever the other man was brought up.
Chewing lightly on the butt of the cigarette in his mouth, Seongjae idly debated the mechanics of sneaking into the singer/actor’s hotel room to plant some hidden cameras to maximize his viewing pleasure, especially when he wasn’t even supposed to be here for a week. It wouldn’t be a fruitful investment, and Baejkin would constantly ride his ass about the bills.
His thoughts are interrupted by another person entering the shot. He’s tall. Wide. Easily slots himself between Suho and Sieun, taking Sieun’s mouth into a kiss before offering the same treatment to Suho.
Click.
Seongje’s smile morphs into a fullout grin, the cigarette butt falling from his mouth as a huff of surprised glee exited his mouth.
His phone buzzes. Without taking his eyes off the couple, he picks up.
“All set?” Baejkin asks, without so much as a hello. Always blunt and to the point. Indelicate.
“Yep.”
“The view?”
Sieun is spread out over the kitchen island, divested of his white shirt. Suho and Baku, both in all their golden glory, sprawled out on top of him, their faces mere inches apart.
Click.
“Fucking gnarly.”
-