Hoàng Tuấn was normally the good-boy type, but when the situation called for it, he could play the bad boy perfectly. One day, he strolled into that café and ordered a drink. When the staff brought it out, he deliberately tripped the kid, spilling the entire glass over himself—shirt and pants soaked through. He made a huge scene, demanding to speak to the owner.
The manager couldn’t calm things down, so the owner finally came running from his nearby house. Hoàng Tuấn snapped: “What are you gonna do about this? I’ve got work soon!”
The owner was ready to confront whoever dared cause trouble at his business. But when he saw Hoàng Tuấn’s drenched shirt clinging to every sculpted muscle, his attitude shifted instantly: “My place is close by—come over, I’ll get you a change of clothes!”
Hoàng Tuấn knew the fish had bitten. He pretended to relent: “At least you know how to make it right.”
He followed the guy back to the house—a lavish mansion that screamed old money. Hoàng Tuấn casually asked: “So, what’s your name?”
The guy answered: “Khánh Đăng, 24 this year.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “Older than me, then. I’m 22.”
He followed Khánh Đăng upstairs, making small talk. Khánh Đăng’s bedroom was enormous—bigger than most living rooms. “Strip and shower,” Khánh Đăng said. “I’ll order you some new clothes.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “I’m in a rush—no time for a shower. Just lend me something; I’ll wipe down quick and head out.”
Khánh Đăng shook his head: “Wiping with water won’t clean you properly!”
Hoàng Tuấn gave the most suggestive wink and said: “Then what will? Maybe you can clean me yourself?”
Without waiting, he stripped completely except for his underwear, the bulge obvious. Khánh Đăng practically drooled and pounced, using his mouth and tongue to “clean” him.
Hoàng Tuấn moaned enthusiastically, driving Khánh Đăng wilder. Khánh Đăng’s cock was big—but Hoàng Tuấn’s was bigger. By the unspoken rule in their world, bigger meant top.
Khánh Đăng was versatile anyway—he’d take anything. Seeing Hoàng Tuấn’s cock on display, he climbed on without hesitation. Riding hard, he groaned: “Fuck! Biggest and hardest I’ve ever had! You a pro or what—your skills are insane!”
The word “pro” stung. Hoàng Tuấn flipped him over, pinned him down, and pounded with full force. Thrusts too fast to count—Khánh Đăng caught between pleasure and pain, body trapped beneath Hoàng Tuấn, unable to move.
Hoàng Tuấn growled while slamming in: “Fucking slut—hungry for cock like that? Not satisfied yet? Lift that ass higher—I’ll feed you more! Feel good, you whore?”
He pulled Khánh Đăng’s hips up into half-standing doggy and hammered deeper. Each thrust drew lewd “oh… oh…” moans from Khánh Đăng. After a while Hoàng Tuấn lay back down, letting Khánh Đăng straddle facing him—cock still buried. He pinned Khánh Đăng’s wrists, locked his legs with his own, and jerked him furiously with the free hand.
Khánh Đăng trembled with pleasure but wanted more: “Not yet… ah… too good! Stop… stop, please! Fuck… I’m coming… I’m coming…”
Bound hand and foot, ass stuffed, cock stroked—he couldn’t hold back. Hoàng Tuấn jerked himself too, then aimed at Khánh Đăng’s face and unloaded thick ropes.
Khánh Đăng lay panting: “Damn… never thought I’d meet someone even more dominant than me!”
Hoàng Tuấn, lying beside him, casually asked: “You were moaning so loud—aren’t you worried the family will hear?”
Khánh Đăng: “No one’s home. Parents travel constantly; my sister’s been married six or seven years. If anyone heard, it’d just be the guard who let you in.”
Hoàng Tuấn feigned surprise: “You have a sister? Must be nice having siblings—I always wanted one.”
Khánh Đăng grumbled: “Nice? Exhausting. When she lived here she bossed me around nonstop—I’m not a kid!”
Hoàng Tuấn: “She was just looking out for you.”
Khánh Đăng scoffed: “Looking out? She only cares about her husband.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “Well, yeah—she married him because she loves him.”
Khánh Đăng reached over, still stroking Hoàng Tuấn’s half-hard cock: “Her husband’s gorgeous—probably hung like you. Lucky her—he lost his memory in an accident that year.”
Hoàng Tuấn knew instantly: Đông Quân. “You call that lucky?”
Khánh Đăng kept stroking: “Lucky for her—she only got him because he forgot everything. Otherwise he never would’ve married her. When our parents forced him here to meet her, I hid in my room. I’d known I was gay forever. Guess the accident wiped that too. So my sister benefited. I’ve always wondered—does amnesia make you forget you’re gay?”
Hoàng Tuấn laughed: “Why not test him sometime? See if he’s still gay.”
Khánh Đăng clicked his tongue: “They’re in Canada—too far. Otherwise I would.”
Hoàng Tuấn teased: “So horny, big bro!”
Khánh Đăng: “Horny? I bow to you—your dirty talk is filthy and hot as hell!”
After a bit more banter, Hoàng Tuấn found an excuse to leave. He was now certain Đông Quân was alive—and had been manipulated by both families. Living as himself would be hard enough, let alone remembering Xuân Minh.
Xuân Minh dropped everything when he heard, handing all work to Hoàng Tuấn. Though Hoàng Tuấn was capable, the load was heavy. Xuân Minh only said: “Do what you can; skip the rest. I have to make this trip—no matter the outcome.”
On the way to the airport, Xuân Minh clutched the old photo of him and Đông Quân. He didn’t know if Đông Quân would remember him or if fate would let them reunite—but just seeing him alive would ease years of pain.
At check-in, Xuân Minh hugged Hoàng Tuấn tightly and whispered: “Thank you.”
Hoàng Tuấn patted his back: “I hope you two find each other soon. Oh—I’m moving closer to Hưng. I’ll clean your place once a week; don’t worry.”
Xuân Minh smiled brightly: “Good! I hear Hưng’s still single? Now that you’re stable, bring him home quick. Who knows—maybe he’s waiting for you like Quân waited for me.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “I know. Thank you—for everything.”
Xuân Minh hurried inside—even though the flight was over an hour away, he looked desperate. Hoàng Tuấn had a gut feeling they’d find each other and finish their unfinished love story.
Once Duy Long convinced Quốc Hưng to move in with him, one of Hoàng Tuấn’s worries eased. Occasional “reports” that Quốc Hưng was still single lifted his spirits further. Duy Long kept watch on the building opposite—especially the window overlooking their entrance. The moment a unit became available, he signaled Hoàng Tuấn.
In one day, Hoàng Tuấn moved in—Duy Long timing it so Quốc Hưng wouldn’t notice. From then on, Hoàng Tuấn’s daily joy was watching Quốc Hưng head to work.
When the pandemic hit and Quốc Hưng lost his job, spiraling into desperation and nearly becoming a callboy, Hoàng Tuấn panicked. The moment he saw the ad on the B app, he urged Duy Long to arrange the “big sister” loan to cover the debt.
After the pandemic, Hoàng Tuấn asked Đức Công—the NBR Cafe owner—to hire Quốc Hưng. Worried about late-night rides home, every night around 10:30 p.m. Hoàng Tuấn would follow at a distance, pretending to be a random passerby, until Quốc Hưng turned safely into his building.
He didn’t just want to help—he wanted to protect Quốc Hưng however he could. It felt like partial atonement for past mistakes. Whether Quốc Hưng knew didn’t matter.
One cool evening, Hoàng Tuấn followed as usual. Quốc Hưng’s small figure wobbled strangely. By the time Hoàng Tuấn realized something was wrong, he’d collapsed on the roadside. Terrified, Hoàng Tuấn rushed over, called an ambulance, and shouted: “Hưng! Hưng! Don’t scare me… Hưng!”
No response. Hoàng Tuấn held him and sobbed. Luckily the street was quiet; the ambulance arrived fast. He lifted Quốc Hưng in, then called Duy Long. Duy Long, slightly drunk with friends, sobered instantly: “What’s up, Tuấn?”
Hoàng Tuấn, frantic: “Hưng fainted on the road—I called an ambulance and got him to the hospital! Can you come help?”
Duy Long bolted to the hospital and found Hoàng Tuấn waiting outside.
“How’s Hưng?” he asked.
“Doctors said exhaustion—nothing serious. He’s on an IV now. Should be discharged tomorrow morning.”
Duy Long clicked his tongue: “I told him to take it easy—he never listens. Poor kid.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “Sorry to bother you. Go home and rest—I’ll stay tonight. Come pick him up tomorrow morning?”
All night, Hoàng Tuấn didn’t sleep. He kept peeking into the room, heart aching at Quốc Hưng’s worn face.
Early next morning, Duy Long arrived. Seeing Quốc Hưng stretch and wake, Hoàng Tuấn finally left, entrusting everything to Duy Long.
Later he called Đức Công: “Please raise Quốc Hưng’s salary—I’ll cover the increase. And don’t let him overwork. He collapsed on the way home last night—he’s still on an IV.”
Đức Công was shocked and agreed—not only covering Hoàng Tuấn’s request but adding extra himself so Quốc Hưng wouldn’t struggle so much with debt.
Things settled with Quốc Hưng, but trouble brewed at work. One morning the director summoned Hoàng Tuấn and tore into him. Everyone outside eavesdropped on the company star getting chewed out—some worried, some jealous and gleeful.
The director yelled: “Don’t bother coming in tomorrow! I trusted you with this huge contract and you lost it—you’ve disappointed me!”
Hoàng Tuấn stayed calm: “Sir, before taking it over I checked—this contract passed through ten people; I was the eleventh. Was it trust… or no one else could handle it?”
After training under Xuân Minh, Hoàng Tuấn wasn’t easily bullied anymore. Xuân Minh always said: “You’re capable—jobs won’t run out. Admit when you’re wrong; fight when you’re right.”
The director faltered, then blustered: “You still couldn’t close it! You pissed off the client and lost the chance to serve them!”
Hoàng Tuấn met his eyes: “Sir, I believe I served them to the best of my ability. Their demands went beyond professional—I couldn’t meet them.”
The director slammed the desk: “Couldn’t? Then write your resignation—I’ll sign it! Don’t give me attitude!”
The assistant pulled him aside: “Sir, Hoàng Tuấn’s recent sales equal everyone else combined—you shouldn’t…”
Director roared: “Shouldn’t what? Everyone out!”
Hoàng Tuấn left; the crowd scattered. He headed to the cafeteria; Khánh Minh and Gia Trí followed. Khánh Minh asked: “What did the client want that you couldn’t do?”
Gia Trí: “Yeah, boss—what deal couldn’t you seal? You always close everything!”
Hoàng Tuấn sipped coffee: “They wanted me to be their boyfriend to sign.”
Gia Trí cursed: “Motherfucker! That’s allowed?”
Khánh Minh laughed: “With money, yeah. Rich people can be unreasonable and still win. But who was it? That pretty guy who waits for you in the cafeteria every afternoon? He’s gorgeous—and obviously obsessed with you.”
Gia Trí: “How gorgeous? Hotter than my baby?”
The two lovebirds constantly fed Hoàng Tuấn dog food—he was used to it.
Gia Trí added: “But seriously, boss—you’re too picky! Since I started here, tons of people have eyed you. All cute, sweet, loaded families. You trying to be a heartbreaker—making rich kids fall and then ignoring them?”
Khánh Minh propped his chin on his hands, daydreaming: “They’ve got every personality and look. None catch your eye? We’ve never heard you talk about this stuff. You’ve never been in love?”
Hoàng Tuấn took a deep breath, eyes shining: “Actually… I have.”
Gia Trí and Khánh Minh leaned in eagerly. Hoàng Tuấn gazed into the distance: “I lost someone because of a stupid mistake. If I can’t have him… I don’t want anyone else.”
Gia Trí slapped his shoulder: “Not a heartbreaker—a hopeless romantic!”
Just then the director’s assistant rushed in, spotting Hoàng Tuấn: “God, I’ve been looking everywhere!”
Hoàng Tuấn: “I was about to ask you to print my resignation.”
She waved it off: “Resign? No way—the client’s downstairs looking for you! Go meet them!”
Despite being “fired,” Hoàng Tuấn stayed professional. He straightened his clothes and headed down. Gia Trí watched from above and couldn’t help yelling: “Damn, gorgeous!”
Khánh Minh agreed: “That’s the unreasonable client. Not just beautiful—classy too. When will I ever measure up?”
Gia Trí pinched his nose: “What are you saying? In my eyes you’re always the most beautiful! You’re already hard enough to keep—any prettier and I’d go insane with jealousy!”
The couple wandered off. Downstairs, Hoàng Tuấn sat across from the client. He wore his usual black suit; the client—roughly his age but actually three years older—looked youthful thanks to money and self-care.
The man was calm and refined, every glance and expression radiating class. He smiled and opened: “I came to sign the contract—you don’t look happy?”
Hoàng Tuấn smiled back: “I am—just surprised.”
The man continued: “No one’s ever rejected me so flatly before. I kept wondering—who’s this person in your heart, so stunning you’d turn me down without hesitation? More beautiful than me?”
Hoàng Tuấn shook his head: “Not exactly.”
Objectively, Quốc Hưng wasn’t half as handsome.
“Then richer? Or better connected—someone who could boost your career?”
Hoàng Tuấn: “No.”
The man looked puzzled: “Then what’s so special?”
Hoàng Tuấn answered clearly: “He’s part of my life. Like cool water I drink, like the air I breathe. Nothing special—but irreplaceable.”
The man gave a faint smile: “I wasn’t wrong about you. You’re not for me—but you’re worth loving. I hope you and that boy are happy.”
He slid the contract across: “I’ve signed. Looking forward to working together.”
Hoàng Tuấn saw him to his car. Before getting in, the man said: “People say everyone you meet teaches you something. Meeting you taught me that money is powerful—but emotionless, so sometimes it’s powerless against true love. Another lesson: the easiest way out of suffering is letting go.”
He drove off. Hoàng Tuấn watched until the car disappeared, then returned inside. Somehow the “lost” contract was signed after all. Back upstairs, Khánh Minh and Gia Trí cheered: “Share the luck, boss!”
The director emerged, saw Hoàng Tuấn, and said: “Don’t come in tomorrow. Take a few days off—go somewhere, clear your head, then come back.”
Hoàng Tuấn thanked him and returned to his desk. As usual, closing a deal meant treating the office to drinks—but from NBR Cafe. Hoàng Tuấn always paid, no matter how many. Colleagues loved it—often buying two: one to drink there, one to go.
Because big sales days made Quốc Hưng happy all day. Đức Công sometimes checked the security cams, caught those moments, and sent them to Hoàng Tuấn. Directly or indirectly—as long as he could make Quốc Hưng smile, Hoàng Tuấn would do it.