The night in the apartment was confined, like a held breath. Outside the windows, rare cars slid across the wet asphalt, but inside, silence reigned. The walls seemed to hold it tightly, letting no sound escape.
Do-yun sat in the kitchen, staring into a cup of tea that had long gone cold. His thoughts were a heavy, tangled knot. Work, reports, missing omegas, meetings where Seung-ho crushed him with a single word... All of it hung in the air, preventing him from exhaling.
When the doorbell rang, he didn't immediately believe it was real. Through the peephole—a tall silhouette. Yoon Seung-ho.
Not in a costly suit, not with a predatory gaze for the public. Tired, hair slightly disheveled, in a black overcoat. His eyes carried no mockery, only simple fatigue.
Do-yun froze. His heart stuttered.
He opened the door.
"What are you…" His voice was quiet, almost hoarse. "What are you doing here?"
"Didn't want to go to an empty apartment," Seung-ho replied simply.
Do-yun couldn't find a response. He stepped back. Seung-ho entered, closing the door behind him. The apartment returned to silence, but now the silence breathed for two.
They stood for a while, unspeaking. Seung-ho took off his coat, hanging it on a hook. His movements were slow, devoid of bravado.
"It's quiet here," he said.
"It's always quiet here," Do-yun replied.
Seung-ho walked closer, stopping by the window. The city lights glowed through the glass, but he wasn't looking out—he was looking at Do-yun's reflection.
"Do you hate me?" he suddenly asked.
Do-yun was taken aback. "Why would you think that?"
"Because I break down your walls. Because I intrude where you're used to being alone."
Silence settled between them. Do-yun moved closer, his shoulder nearly touching the alpha's.
"I don't hate you. I hate what you make me feel."
Seung-ho smirked, but with weariness, not playfulness. His fingers reached out to his face, tracing his cheek, pausing at his temple. The touch was soft, cautious.
"Tonight… no games," Seung-ho said. "Just… stay close."
***
The night was thick, like black velvet. Outside the windows, rare cars whispered past, their lights gently slicing the darkness, leaving reflections on the glass. The apartment breathed with silence.
Do-yun was still sitting at the table, not having touched the cold tea. When the doorbell rang, he didn't even believe it at first. But through the peephole, he saw him—Seung-ho.
Not in a suit. Not wearing the mask of the alpha predator. In a coat, with weariness in eyes that, for the first time, seemed human.
"What are you…" Do-yun's voice trembled. "What are you doing here?"
"Didn't want to go to an empty apartment," the answer was simple. Too honest.
He let him in. Seung-ho stepped inside, closing the door. They were alone. The night closed in, like a capsule.
For a time, they simply watched each other. The air between them was thick, like before rain.
Seung-ho reached out, touched his cheek, ran his fingers along the jawline. This time, without pressure, without force.
"Tonight… no breaking. Just stay close."
And then he leaned in. Their lips met.
The kiss was slow. Not forceful, not demanding—as if he were afraid to startle him. Do-yun did not pull away. He kissed back, cautiously, but hungrily, because a deep hunger had been building inside him for too long.
Fingers slid over his body, caressing his back, pulling him closer. Do-yun gasped, but not from fear—from allowing himself not to resist for the first time.
Shirts fell to the floor. Skin met skin. Heat spread across their bodies. Seung-ho's cock pressed against his thigh, and a shudder ran through Do-yun at the contact.
For the first time, he didn't push away. His own cock responded, hard and hot, and Seung-ho ran his palm over it, eliciting a quiet sound.
"Quiet…" he whispered, but he moved with more confidence.
His fingers found their way lower. They stroked the anus, cautiously, slowly, as if checking every reaction. Do-yun barely held on, clutching at his shoulders, his breath ragged.
When Seung-ho leaned lower, leaving a mark on his neck, and his tongue touched his skin, Do-yun squeezed his eyes shut. Heat was gathering inside, his body responding to every touch.
Fingers slipped deeper. Slick ran down his thighs, making the movements soft. Do-yun couldn't distinguish between pain and pleasure. Everything was mixed. He just clenched the sheet tighter.
"Good…" Seung-ho's voice was low.
Their cocks met in Seung-ho's palms. He squeezed them together, moving his hand. Slick, hot, their breathing ragged.
Do-yun couldn't hold back a moan. His body was betraying him, responding too strongly. Every thrust of the palm was like waves crashing over his mind.
"Look at me," Seung-ho said.
Do-yun opened his eyes. Their gazes met. They were naked not just in body, but in soul.
Seung-ho entered him cautiously. Slowly at first, as if checking if he was ready. Do-yun gritted his teeth, but did not push him away. On the contrary—he pulled himself closer.
His anus accepted him, and the slick made the movements slippery and soft. Pain intertwined with sweetness.
The rhythm deepened. Waves washed over his body. Every thrust echoed in his heart, every breath grew louder.
Do-yun held onto his shoulders, allowing him to enter deeper. And with every movement, fire ignited inside.
Their breaths mingled. Their lips found each other again. The kisses grew more greedy. Do-yun didn't have time to think—only to feel.
When Seung-ho sped up, he shuddered. He was no longer holding back. Do-yun's hot cum spurted onto his stomach, his fingers clenched, and he moaned, losing control.
Seung-ho pressed him closer, thrusting in even deeper, and in that same instant, he, too, groaned, flooding him inside with his hot cum.
They collapsed together, breathing heavily. Their bodies trembled, but not from cold. Seung-ho continued to stroke his hair until their breathing finally evened out.