The morning light crept cautiously into the apartment, casting golden streaks through the gaps in the curtains. The room was quiet: only the faint hum of distant cars and the smell of fresh coffee drifting from the kitchen.
Do-yun was sleeping. His breathing was even, his face relaxed, devoid of the anxiety that usually hid in the creases of his brow. The sheet was crumpled at his waist, exposing his chest and shoulders.
Seung-ho was awake. He sat beside him, gazing at his face, studying every line. In this morning light, Do-yun seemed different—not a detective, not an undercover waiter, not a man always ready to take a hit. Just a man, sleeping carelessly, simple, yet it drew Seung-ho in even more intensely.
Something tightened in Seung-ho's chest. Desire. Warm. Insistent, like a need to touch and confirm that he was truly here.
He leaned down. His lips touched his skin—first his chest, then he slowly kissed his stomach, trailing lower.
Do-yun stirred slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake up.
Seung-ho slowly moved further down. The sheet slipped away completely. His fingers caressed his thigh, stroking the skin in light waves. And his lips touched his cock.
Do-yun flinched. A sleepy inhale escaped his chest. He opened his eyes—and met Seung-ho's gaze, who was already sucking his cock, deep and slow.
"W-what are you…" His voice was rough, half-asleep.
Seung-ho didn't reply. His fingers tightened on Do-yun's thighs, holding him in place. His gaze spoke for him: "Feel it."
Do-yun squeezed his eyes shut. His body responded too keenly. His cock swelled, growing harder. Every movement of the alpha's lips sent a wave of pleasure that swept away the last remnants of sleep.
"Seung-ho…" a breathless whisper escaped his lips. He wanted to stop him, but his fingers clenched the sheet.
Seung-ho moved deeper, more insistently. The slick eased the slide, making every stroke both hot and soft at the same time. The sounds were quiet, muffled, but they seemed too loud in the stillness of the morning.
Do-yun's fingers dug into the sheet. He tried to hold on, but his breathing became increasingly erratic. Seung-ho, as if sensing this, moved deeper, without stopping.
"Stop… I'm…" his voice broke.
But the alpha did not stop.
Do-yun broke. His orgasm shuddered through him, and he groaned, filling Seung-ho's mouth with his hot semen.
Seung-ho swallowed, not pulling away. Only then did he sit up, lie back down beside him, and pull him close.
***
They were silent for a time. Do-yun breathed heavily, trying to regain his composure.
"Are you not used to having someone near you?" Seung-ho asked quietly, noticing his gaze.
"I'm not used to it," Do-yun confessed.
Seung-ho smirked slightly, but there was no irony in it. He ran his palm over Do-yun's hair, gently stroking it, as if savoring the simple motion.
"Then get used to it," he said quietly. "I'm not planning on leaving."
Do-yun flinched, but didn't pull away. A feeling he was afraid to name swelled in his chest. Too dangerous, too human. He buried his face in Seung-ho's shoulder, hiding the tremor.
"You talk as if we have a future," he whispered.
"And we don't?" Seung-ho raised an eyebrow; his voice was calm, but his eyes were serious.
Do-yun fell silent. He wanted to say "no," but the word wouldn't come. Because for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel lonely next to someone.
Seung-ho pulled him closer, inhaling the scent of his skin.
"We are both looking for the truth," he said softly. "But I want you to understand: in this game, you are not a pawn to me."
Do-yun looked up. There was no mockery in that gaze, no assertion of power. And that was the most frightening thing of all.
"I will find out who is connected to the disappearances…" Seung-ho's voice hardened, almost turning to steel, "…and I will destroy him myself. Even if it costs me the company."
Silence settled between them. Do-yun listened and didn't know whether to believe him or not. But for the first time, the words sounded not like a threat, but like a promise.
They lay embraced for a long time. The light grew brighter, morning claimed its due, and in that apartment, it felt as if time had stopped.
The phone on the bedside table vibrated, the screen flashing. A snippet of a message appeared on the display.
Do-yun didn't reach for it immediately, but when he read the text, his heart seized.
"New disappearance. Moonlight Club. Tonight…"
He froze, his fingers clutching the phone. Seung-ho noticed the change in his face, but didn't ask immediately. He just looked into his eyes, and that gaze was enough to understand: the peace they had found that night had already begun to crumble.