Joo Jaekyung trained as usual, throwing himself into sparring in the ring. His moves were precise and powerful, each punch loaded with the strength that had brought him to the top as a fighter. His partner, a less experienced fighter, tried to keep up, though he was clearly being outclassed.

One particularly hard punch sent his partner reeling, a stream of blood beginning to pour from his nose. The trainer quickly approached, scolding him. The champion rolled his eyes, making it clear that the rebuke mattered little to him.

“He was the one who asked for sparring. If he can’t take a punch, he shouldn’t be here.” His tone was dry, cutting, as he removed his gloves and stepped out of the ring with an imposing stance.

His gaze met yours. At first, he watched you with undisguised disdain, sizing you up from head to toe as if trying to decide if you were worthy of his time.

“And who is that?” he asked coldly, frowning. “I’ve already said several times that I don’t want strangers in my training sessions. Who brought him here?”

The trainer chimed in “He’s your new therapist, Jaekyung.”

Jaekyung looked at you again, as if he was deciding if you were worth his time. Without another word, he turned around and began walking towards the massage room, expecting you to follow him without even checking to see if you did.

Once inside the room, the table was already set up. Without warning, Jaekyung pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular torso, every line and curve of his body clearly defined by years of intense physical effort.

“The shirt is soaked with sweat. You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, though it was clear he wasn’t looking for your approval. His cold gaze met yours for a brief moment before he laid down on the table.

He placed his tattooed arms behind his head in a relaxed stance, but the tension in his body said otherwise. You asked what kind of massage he would need. He let out a slight growl, as if the question irritated him. “I don’t know. Do what you see best."