He turned, suddenly, too fast, grabbed Seungho by the jaw, kissed him like violence, like drowning. It was teeth and tongue and salt and too much need. His legs were shaking.
Seungho grunted, caught him, spun them.
Lifted.
Pressed him up against the wall, thigh slotted between Haneul’s legs, heat a furnace between them. His cock, half-hard, nudged the hollow of Haneul’s groin, and Haneul gasped.
“Do you want this?”
“I’ll kill you if you stop.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Haneul snarled, shoved him, bit his shoulder—hard.
Seungho groaned.
And that was permission enough.
He lifted Haneul again, carried him down the hallway with one arm under his thighs, the other cradling his back like it was glass and fire, like every scar was holy, every breath proof that the gods weren’t done with them yet.
The bed was already unmade. Still smelled like lavender oil.
He laid Haneul down like he was the center of a ritual.
And then—he stripped.
Everything.
Until his cock hung thick and dark and heavy between his legs, proud and unhurried. Haneul’s eyes went wide. Even now. Even after everything. He still wasn’t used to the sheer size of him.
“Take your time,” Seungho said, voice like velvet dragged over coal.
“I’m not scared of you,” Haneul snapped, but his thighs pressed together unconsciously.
“You should be,” Seungho murmured, crawling over him, hands braced beside his head. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the day you almost died on me, for the second time.”
He kissed him.
And kept kissing him.
Slow.Deep. Wet. A kiss that undressed every inch of him, even clothed. He didn’t touch his cock. Not yet. Just mouth on mouth, tongue tangling, breath stuttering between teeth.
Then lower.
Jaw. Throat. Collarbone.
He sucked a bruise just above Haneul’s heart.
“I want to see you come apart,” he said, barely audible, lips brushing the words into skin. “I want to watch you shatter—not from pain. From love.”
Haneul made a noise like a sob had collided with a moan. His fingers scrambled, clawed into Seungho’s arms.
“You’re saying dumb things again—”
“Mm.” Seungho licked the center of his chest. “Then shut me up.”
He did.
