The parking lot breathed with the cool night air. Puddles shimmered with neon blurs, but Do-yun only saw them from the corner of his eye—as if through a haze. His steps were quick, sharp, like a frantic escape.
"Get in."
The voice came from the side—low, deep, and something clicked inside him, like a lock.
A black sedan. The door was open—an invitation into a trap. Inside sat Yoon Seung-ho, his eyes glowing in the dim light like coals in a fire.
"Just a talk."
Do-yun's heart pounded too hard, and the world swayed. But his legs moved forward on their own. He got in. The door shut softly—and the street disappeared.
The interior smelled of leather, tobacco, and alpha. The scent was thick, intoxicating. The space became cramped, the air heavy. He felt as though he'd been drawn inside himself, where everything—his breath, his thoughts, his body—pulsed to one rhythm.
"You always leave as if you're running," Seung-ho said.
"My shift is over," Do-yun breathed, but the words sounded foreign.
"No." A smirk touched the alpha's lips. "You're running from me."
He leaned closer, his scent becoming dense, hot. His fingers closed around Do-yun's wrist—and in the same instant, his lips were on his in a hard kiss.
Do-yun's breathing broke rhythm. The sounds merged into a single noise: the creak of the seats, ragged breaths, the pounding of a heart. Everything blended. Do-yun struggled, his palms pushing against Seung-ho's chest, but his fingers treacherously gripped the fabric.
Seung-ho increased the pressure. Their thighs pressed together, and the metal of the car seemed to squeeze them even tighter.
"Let go…" Do-yun's voice broke, and even to himself, it sounded unfamiliar.
"Say it louder," the alpha whispered, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. Each bite resonated deeper than his skin.
A button popped open. Fingers slipped inside. The erection was instantaneous and felt like a betrayal. His vision darkened.
"No…" The word crumbled into a gasp.
"Yes," Seung-ho replied. "Like that."
He moved slowly, agonizingly. The car filled with their sounds, the seat groaned, the air vibrated as if it were alive. Do-yun clenched his teeth, but a moan escaped anyway.
Seung-ho's voice glided to his ear:
"Look how you want this."
And then he sped up again. With each touch, Do-yun's body no longer belonged to him. It responded on its own, every nerve on fire, every cell trembling. He arched his back, his knees shaking with betrayal, his fingers digging into the alpha's shoulder as if he were afraid of drowning.
The alpha's scent was everywhere. The blockers were gone, as if they had never existed. A hot, thick slick appeared between his thighs, permeating the air.
"You wear a mask. But the body is always honest," Seung-ho said, looking him directly in the eyes.
His movements became slow, deliberate. Every touch echoed through Do-yun's body. He grabbed Seung-ho's hand, but didn't push him away—he only squeezed it tighter, like an anchor.
"Stop…" he whispered.
"No. Not yet," the alpha's lips left more kisses on his neck, hot and painful.
And everything sped up again. The arousal inside him became total. The car was no longer a car: the metal trembled, the seats shook, the air hummed. It seemed as if the whole world had merged into this one rhythm.
"Say this is a mistake," Seung-ho whispered. "Say it."
But Do-yun's tongue no longer obeyed. Only sounds. Only breathing.
And in an instant, everything was undone.
His body shuddered, his breath cut off in a gasp. He groaned, burying his forehead in Seung-ho's shoulder, a sound that was louder than his thoughts. A wave washed over him—and everything vanished.
All that remained was the smell. Skin, smoke, slick. The space breathed with it, as if it had memorized them.
Seung-ho lifted his chin, holding his gaze.
"Never again?" His voice was low and dangerous. "Or will you still come back?"
Do-yun said nothing. The mask returned, but his eyes gleamed and trembled.
"It was a mistake."
Seung-ho's smile drew closer, his lips nearly touching.
"No. This is only the beginning."
The headlights of another car swept across the windows, highlighting their silhouettes.