Page 14 of Public Image, Private Heart (K-Drama Love Story #1)

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Yumi

M y heart was practically doing jumping jacks as I rang the doorbell at Ji-yong’s place.

It was my first visit to his home, and I was more than a little curious to see if we’d discuss the “incident” from our last meet-up.

When he opened the door, there he was—tall, handsome, and seemingly perfect in every way.

He smelled great, and his figure was so broad it almost blocked the entire doorway. I remembered playfully complaining on the Princess of Cosmos set about his towering height, joking with the crew that I always needed to be on tiptoe just to have a normal conversation with him.

“Samgyupsal?” was all I could manage to say as I tried to mask my swirling emotions. He welcomed me and quickly gave me a tour of his immaculately tidy and luxurious apartment—so pristine that it made my own place seem shabby and left me feeling embarrassed about the social gap between us.

I couldn’t help but wonder why we hadn’t spent more time at his place. The apartment was so spotless it felt as though it had been cleaned by a compulsive neat freak.

Before long, we found ourselves entangled in a series of comic misadventures.

He mentioned his day visiting his grandmother, as if being tall and handsome weren’t enough, he also played the “affectionate grandson” card.

Then I ended up setting up a dating app profile for him, only to be met with rejection from women who refused to believe that the real Ji-yong was behind the screen.

We enjoyed the samgyupsal and beer on his magnificent patio, with a stunning view of Namsan Tower. The night was great, despite the lack of discussion about the “incident.” I chose not to mention it to avoid making things awkward between us.

But I had no idea that the night was about to take an even more unexpected turn.

Just as I was preparing to head home—tomorrow was a big shooting day for me with a kissing scene scheduled with Ryan (ugh!)—Ji-yong suddenly stood up, leaned against the wall, and looked every bit the charming rogue he portrayed in our drama.

“You know,” he began, his gaze intense and lips slightly parted, “since we’ve done that before...”

I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued but my stomach in knots. “Yes?” I replied, uncertain about where this was going.

He chuckled, casually ruffling his hair in that signature Ryu Ji-yong style—as if what he was about to say next wasn’t going to shatter the tenuous peace we had established between us. “I could help you practice,” he said with an impish grin.

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process his words, and stammered out the only word that came to mind: “What...?”

“I mean, we could just visualize the camera angles and practice staging and blocking—without actually kissing ,” he suggested, guiding me back into his living room.

My heart raced at the speed of light at his suggestion.

I became acutely aware of how full his lips were and how pleasantly they had felt against mine the last time we kissed on-screen.

I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel if our kiss deepened, if our tongues intertwining in a passionate whirl, and perhaps if we even taking turns nibbling gently on our upper and lower lips. A flush of warmth crept up my cheeks.

With just the two of us in his apartment, high up in the tower and free from the distractions and barriers of a dozens of film crew, my R-rated imaginings felt strikingly plausible.

“So... imagine the camera is here and the light is here ,” Ji-yong continued as he positioned two of his floor lamps.

I found myself let out a soft chuckle, as I was instantly reminded of those chilly winter nights on set, where we had to lock lips repeatedly to perfect the scene.

He guided me, placing my hands at the back of his neck, and I quickly fell into the familiar choreography. Except this time, it felt real.

My breath trembled as he drew his face closer to mine, his breath softly tickling my cheek. I closed my eyes, brimming with anticipation.

“Right, I think this angle will work,” he whispered, his lips just a few millimeters from mine. I opened my eyes in disbelief, feeling a pang of disappointment as I watched him pull away, creating a small distance between us, as if giving me a chance to back out if I wanted to.

“Ji-yong... I...”

But before I could finish, he moved again, closing the distance between us, and his lips were finally on mine—soft yet demanding.

I melted into his embrace, kissing him back with equal fervor.

Everything I had imagined just moments ago came to life: his tongue deepened the kiss, his hand caressed my cheek, guiding us into a hotter, open-mouthed kiss.

Just as quickly as it began, it ended. He pulled back, his expression a mix of longing and frustration. “So, you do feel something.”

“Of course I do,” I admitted softly. “But—”

He didn’t let me finish. Instead, he kissed me again, murmuring my name softly as his hand explored my neck, sending delicious tingles of desire across my skin.

Before long, we were settled on his sofa, with me straddling his lap. My mind went blank as I surrendered to the intense desire building within me. I kissed him deeply—nothing could stop us now—and I felt his hand exploring under my dress.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he whispered in my ear, his lips trailing kisses along my neck and softly caressing it with his tongue. “While we were filming, I wished I could do all of this with you.” His hand gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft moan from me as I craved more.

There was no turning back now; all lines had been crossed and we were too far gone. I thought to myself, ‘To hell with consequences—this feels too good!’

Though not entirely inexperienced in intimate matters, this moment with Ji-yong felt like a new level of ecstasy. Compared to past experiences, tonight felt like a revelation, as if a blind person had finally seen. Every sense was heightened.

I breathed heavily as my hand mirrored his, trailing down his shirt. Anticipation surged through me as his fingers ventured to unfasten my bra. Growing bolder, I unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons, rewarded by his encouraging smirk.

As I unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, he finally managed to remove my bra, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. With my dress lifted, his lips began to explore my breasts. I moaned audibly at the first touch of his tongue, a shiver of anticipation running through me.

He paused, his hand enveloping my breast completely, and looked into my eyes. “Do you like that?” he asked.

I could only nod in response, overwhelmed by the sensations. Seeing my reaction, he grinned and resumed his kisses and gentle nibbles.

“Ji-yong!” I gasped, nearly overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure he was stirring within me.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied, his smile slow and mischievous, like a cat savoring its prey.

Not yet—not now. He’s all mine tonight, I thought. And I wanted all of him.

Instead of replying, I returned his kisses, descending to his neck, then moving to his abs, my fingers exploring his toned muscles. I smiled victoriously as I heard him moaning incoherent phrases.

Suddenly, he stood up, carrying me effortlessly to his room as if I were weightless. He gently placed me on his bed and positioned himself carefully on top of me, continuing to place delicious kisses on my mouth, neck, and breasts.

He pulled down the rest of my undergarments, leaving me completely bare.

His breaths grew heavy as his fingers traced the sensitive area between my thighs, and I quivered in anticipation.

He caressed me gently before slipping one finger inside, and I heard him sigh softly.

As his finger moved inside me with a steady rhythm, he added a second finger, increasing the pace and hitting the right spot.

I moaned in response, approaching the edge of pleasure before I stopped him, pulling his fingers out.

My cheeks flushed red as I saw the moisture on his fingers, a clear sign of my desire.

He then guided my hand to feel his own arousal. It was hot, strong, and fully erect. He removed his undergarments, and I gasped at the sight of him; it seemed almost impossible.

He nodded encouragingly and opened his nightstand drawer to retrieve a condom. Tearing it open with his teeth, he carefully donned it. I waited in eager anticipation as he guided himself towards me.

He started by gently inserting the tip, moving very slowly. Noticing my trembling breaths, he asked softly, “Do you want me to stop?”

I gave him a look that said he was being ridiculous—like offering me a delicious cake and then halting the spoon just inches from my mouth.

“Got it,” he grinned, and with that, he entered fully inside me. Our bodies connected, and he began to move rhythmically, sending waves of sensation through me. I tightened my grip on his back, lost in the growing desire for him.

He seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Even when we were both lost in our desires, he attentively checked on me, carefully assessing my needs before gently pulling me back onto his lap, allowing me to feel all of him.

I moaned at the sensations and moved in a steady rhythm, sending waves of pleasure through him.

He laid me down on the bed again and withdrew from me, leaving me with a sudden sense of emptiness. However, his reassuring smile soon comforted me as he began touching me again, his hand moving expertly, with two fingers caressing me until I nearly cried out with pleasure.

Just as I was on the brink of climax, he replaced his fingers with himself, and we both reached the peak of ecstasy together. I gasped, feeling his weight as he remained on top of me. “What was that...?” I managed to ask, blinking in disbelief at the magic that had just unfolded in his room.

I had never felt such a profound release before. Ji-yong seemed either like a magician or a master of his craft.

He grinned, looking tired but satisfied, as he shifted to lie beside me. “It was us... together.” He pulled me close, as if reluctant to let go of the warmth and connection we had just shared.

Suddenly, I found myself understanding all the poets’ musings about the lengths one might go for love—why Paris, the Trojan prince, chose to abduct Helen despite knowing it would lead to war.

Ji-yong blinked at me, and just as I thought he was about to say something profound, he casually remarked with a mischievous smile, “So... we were just attempting to procreate.”

I laughed heartily at his comment, admiring how Ji-yong could lighten the mood with a single phrase.

Once the laughter died down, I realized something a bit embarrassing. “My hair smells like samgyupsal,” I said, sniffing it with a hint of awkwardness.

“Mine too,” Ji-yong replied, grinning as he tried to sniff his own hair. “But who doesn’t love the smell of samgyupsal? Maybe we should find a way to bottle it and sell it as a perfume,” he suggested with a playful laugh, returning to the easygoing Ji-yong I knew.

He then led me to his bathroom, where we took turns freshening up and shared a few more tender moments before heading back to his room. We fell asleep quickly, our hands wrapped tightly around each other, enjoying the closeness and warmth we had just shared.

The next morning, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Even though Ji-yong was still soundly asleep beside me (thankfully, he doesn’t snore), I suddenly realized two things: I was incredibly late for my shoot, and we hadn’t had the “talk” yet.

In some parts of the world, after a shared intimate moment, people might just get a silent, mutual understanding about their relationship without needing to label it.

But in Korea, relationships are more formal, so it’s important to define them clearly, ideally before any intimacy—though that’s a bit late for Ji-yong and me.

Plus, it’s hard to be straightforward between us; Ji-yong is one of the most well-established stars in the country, while I’m just starting out, which complicates things further.

Trying to set my feelings aside, I quickly grabbed my clothes and had to recycle yesterday’s outfit. I hoped the lingering scent of samgyupsal wouldn’t be too obvious and dashed to his bathroom, using his toothpaste as a makeshift mouthwash.

Before long, he joined me in the bathroom, still groggy and rummaging through his cabinet.

He offered me a new toothbrush and, with a sleepy yawn, tried to pull me into a hug.

I brushed my teeth, returned his brief embrace before quickly saying goodbye and rushing to my car, driving full speed to the studio.