The rain had stopped, but the sound of the gunshots still echoed in his ears. Do-yun barely remembered the drive. The car floated softly through empty streets, the lights of Seoul blurred into muddy streaks, and blood slowly seeped down his arm, soaking the fabric.
He held on with his last remaining strength, trying not to show how his vision was dimming. But Seung-ho saw everything. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, and his gaze was steady, as if by sheer force of will he was keeping Do-yun conscious.
"Hold on. You don't have the right to pass out," he said lowly, his eyes fixed on the road.
Do-yun tried to smirk, but it came out weak. "You're giving orders even when I'm bleeding."
"Shut up," Seung-ho snapped. "Save your strength."
***
The apartment greeted them with silence. The panoramic windows obscured the city in a light, rainy haze; a lamp on the table cast a soft golden light. The lingering smell of coffee from the morning mixed with the metallic taste of blood.
Do-yun tried to stand up on his own, but his legs buckled. Seung-ho caught him in his arms, pressing him to his chest, and Do-yun felt the alpha's heart beating strong and steady.
"I can walk," Do-yun exhaled, but his voice cracked.
"No." Seung-ho carried him into the living room and settled him on the sofa. "Here, you will listen to me."
He quickly fetched the first-aid kit, sat beside him, and unbuttoned the shirt across his chest. The lamplight slid across his skin and the blood-soaked fabric. The bullet had only grazed his arm, but the wound looked like a deep slice, oozing crimson blood.
"Hold this," Seung-ho said, handing Do-yun a folded piece of fabric.
"What is it?"
"To bite on. You don't know how to complain, but I don't want to hear you suppress a scream."
Do-yun clenched his jaw, but still took the cloth. His eyes met Seung-ho's—there was none of the usual mockery, only cold, focused determination.
The alpha's fingers confidently cleaned the wound, washed it, and applied a dressing. Seung-ho worked quickly and precisely, as if he had done this dozens of times before. But his every gesture was overly cautious, almost tender and because of this, Do-yun felt even more exposed.
"You're being too gentle," he said hoarsely, when Seung-ho secured the bandage.
"Because you are not a thing," the alpha replied softly.
Silence hung heavy, like the night outside the window.
Seung-ho secured the bandage but didn't remove his hand. His palm lingered on Do-yun's shoulder, squeezing him gently.
"Just say it," Do-yun whispered. "What are you doing?"
Seung-ho leaned closer. His lips brushed his temple; the light kiss pierced deeper than the bullet.
"Caring for you."
Do-yun wanted to pull away, but his breath hitched. Seung-ho's lips were near, too near. He turned—and met his gaze. The dark eyes looked as if they were stripping the mask from his very soul.
The first kiss was cautious. The second—greedy. Do-yun didn't notice when the cloth fell from his hand.
Seung-ho's hands slid under the fabric of his shirt, beginning to caress his skin, drawing waves of sensation. Do-yun clenched his teeth, wanting to say "stop," but instead heard his own groan.
"You crossed the line again," he breathed out.
"I don't see them," Seung-ho replied.
His fingers landed on his neck, sliding along his collarbone, gently, almost reverently. Seung-ho pulled closer and kissed his temple. A light, almost cautious touch. But that kiss made Do-yun's heart pound harder than the gunshot. He wanted to pull away, but couldn't.
He turned his head, intending to say something sharp, but Seung-ho's lips were too close. Their breaths mingled, and words lost all meaning.
The kiss was cautious at first, almost tentative. But the moment Do-yun trembled, the alpha deepened it, dominant, demanding. A hand slipped under his shirt, fingers found his skin and began to caress it with short waves of touch.
Do-yun tried to pull away, but his body betrayed him. It responded—to the warmth, to the scent, to the strength. Seung-ho's every movement drew out what he had hidden for too long.
"You're… insane," he whispered, pausing for breath.
"Maybe," Seung-ho smirked, kissing him again.
Do-yun's hand gripped the edge of the sofa. His head fell back, his breathing ragged. A storm raged inside—anger, fear, and along with them, a hunger he refused to admit.
Seung-ho trailed his lips down his neck, leaving a mark, his fingers pressing harder into his side. The world narrowed down to the light of the lamp, the scent of blood and coffee, the heavy kisses, and the breathing beside him.
And suddenly, everything stopped.
Seung-ho paused, pressing his forehead against Do-yun's temple.
"If you say 'no'—I will leave."
Do-yun froze. His heart was beating too loudly, his arm still hurt, but the words wouldn't come. Only a quiet whisper escaped:
"I didn't say 'no'."
The air became viscous. The sofa fabric creaked as Seung-ho pressed him against the backrest. Waves coursed through his body, each one from the alpha's hands.
The alpha's hands slid along his sides, paused at his waist, then moved lower. Fingers gently stroked his skin in long waves until Do-yun's breathing became a rasp.
He arched his back when a palm landed on his cock, still hidden beneath his trousers.
"Shit…" He bit his lip, but a groan escaped anyway.
Seung-ho unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock. The lamplight caught the slick shine running down the head of his cock from the first movements.
Seung-ho gripped him, stroking slowly, with pressure, as if trying to learn every reaction.
Do-yun was gasping. His hands flailed—one moment pushing Seung-ho's shoulders, the next clinging to his shirt.
"Not so hard… You're gripping too tightly…" he breathed out, but his voice broke into a moan.
"No" Seung-ho responded. "I want to hear you."
Hoarse, restrained moans.
Seung-ho quickened his pace; the slick made the movements slippery and hot. His fingers held his cock firmly, and Do-yun arched, burying his forehead into the alpha's shoulder.
"Seung-ho…" his voice broke, trembling, low.
"More," the alpha whispered. "Give me more."
The orgasm struck suddenly. Semen surged out in a hot wave onto Seung-ho's palm, mixing with the slick, dripping onto his exposed stomach. Do-yun shuddered, his fingers clawing at the sofa.
But Seung-ho didn't stop.
His hand moved further, smoothly, with pressure, until Do-yun's body began to tremble again.
"Enough…" he choked out, but the alpha only smirked against his lips.
Seung-ho pulled off the remaining clothing, drawing him closer. Their bodies met completely—skin to skin, hot, tense. Do-yun was gasping, his palms wandering over Seung-ho's shoulders, as if trying to hold onto something solid in this shaky storm.
Seung-ho pressed him tighter, and Do-yun felt the alpha's cock—hard, dominant. His heart hammered against his ribs, his breathing faltered.
"Don't…" he began, but the word dissolved in a kiss.
Seung-ho's lips were insistent, demanding; his tongue slipped inside, taking the last of his resistance. His palm slid down, to Do-yun's cock, already wet with pre-cum. A few long strokes—and waves of pleasure ran through his body again.
But this time, the alpha didn't let him dissolve in a solitary storm.
"That's not enough," he whispered against his lips. "I want more."
He pressed him against the sofa, his knee parting Do-yun's thighs, and Do-yun felt the firmness of the foreign cock at his anus. His body shuddered, muscles tense.
"You're insane…" he breathed out.
"Maybe," Seung-ho replied, running his fingers along his thigh.
Fingers touched the entrance, already wet with slick gathered there, as if his body was preparing itself. Slow circles, cautious pressure—and Do-yun arched, groaning low, pressing his forehead into Seung-ho's neck.
"I want to hear you," Seung-ho said. "Don't hide."
Fingers went in, cautiously but deeply. His body clenched, but immediately responded, letting him go further. The slick helped, making every movement smooth.
Do-yun was shaking. His fingers dug into Seung-ho's back, leaving marks. His breath broke into a rasp; every movement inside echoed in waves.
Seung-ho removed his hand and pressed him closer.
Seung-ho's cock entered Do-yun's wet opening—firmly, decisively, spreading him from within. The anus accepted him, hot and tight, and at that moment Do-yun cried out, the sound a rough but high-pitched gasp.
"Seung-ho…" his voice trembled, but his body arched, accepting him completely.
The alpha growled, burying his lips in his shoulder. The movements were slow at first, cautious, giving him time to adjust. But then the rhythm accelerated—heavy, dominant, tearing his breath into ragged shreds.
Every thrust resonated with a storm in Do-yun's chest. His cock slapped against his stomach, slicked in Seung-ho's palms, leaving trails of lubricant.
"Moan," he whispered, kissing his lips, neck, temple. "Moan more for me."
His voice was hoarse, breaking, and every new thrust tore a sound from him. His body vibrated with tension, waves crashing over him one after another.
The orgasm struck, powerful, inevitable. Do-yun arched, his fingers clawed at the sofa, and his cock released its semen, hot, onto their bellies and hands.
Seung-ho did not stop. His rhythm became harder, deeper. He went all the way in, and a moment later groaned himself, burying his face in Do-yun's neck. The semen spilled inside, hot, filling his anus, mixing with the slick.
They collapsed together, body and breath. The lamp light swayed, rain drops tapped against the glass.
Seung-ho held him tight, as if afraid to let go. His breathing was heavy, but it held neither anger nor game—only the weight of truth.
"You…" Do-yun tried to say something, but couldn't. His voice trembled.
"Shh," Seung-ho whispered, kissing his temple.