Rune reached out for my stomach, fingers tracing muscle and scar tissue with careful attention. He gripped my cock, and I stopped breathing.
"I want to see you when I do this," he said.
We moved together, hands learning rhythm and pressure, breathing synchronizing. His eyes were wide open , watching my reactions.
We were two people choosing honesty when everything else in their lives required careful management.
Rune's breaths were faster and shallower. His hand tightened around me, and the inevitable sensation surged inside me.
"Yoon-jae," I said.
His name. His real name.
I saw the moment it hit him, the intimacy of being called that here, like this, by someone who knew the difference between the name the world used and the one that belonged to him.
He came with a sharp inhale, his whole body tensing, and I followed seconds later, throwing my head back as a raw growl tore out of me.
For a few seconds, we just breathed. Then he shifted his position, reaching for tissues on the nightstand, and we cleaned up with practical efficiency.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, breathing gradually slowing. The room was dark except for the ambient light from the city filtering through the curtains. Somewhere outside, life in Portland continued without us.
Rune rested with one arm slung across my body. He raised his head with his chin resting on my chest. "What do we do?"
"We document everything. Make sure there's a record of what's happening they can't quietly erase." I paused. "And we don't separate. They'll try to isolate you. Create distance. Make it look natural."
"The way they tried today."
"Yes."
"What if they succeed?"
"Then we make sure everyone knows it wasn't an accident."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "That won't bring me back."
"No. It won't."
The honesty sat between us, dark and necessary.
"I'm not trying to be morbid," he said. "I just need to know you understand what we're risking."
"I understand."
He turned his head and pressed a kiss against my chest. Then another. Slow and deliberate. Touching me because he could.
Chapter ten
Rune - Portland - May 10
Iwoke to the memory of Griffin's hand pressed between my shoulder blades. Not the touch itself; that had ended hours ago. The heat remained.
For three breaths, I remained still. Then the awareness broke.
Last night, Griffin had touched me without asking permission from anyone who mattered to the machine. There were no handlers clearing the proximity.
He'd touched me because I'd asked him to stay. Looking back, I wasn't reckless. We risked exposure, but we'd written something true.
My phone showed 9:21 AM. It was a rest day in Portland.
