The knock came again—heavier this time, more urgent.
Noah's fingers tightened, crushing the towel in his hands into a wrinkled mess. He hesitated, then slowly rose to his feet and walked to the door. The moment his hand touched the knob, every muscle in his body went taut.
A tangle of dread and something dangerously close to anticipation twisted in his chest.
He drew a deep breath and turned the knob anyway.
Click.
The door cracked open, hallway light spilling across the floor. Noah lifted his gaze—and froze.
"Asher?"
The man leaned lazily against the doorframe, eyes unfocused, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair mussed. The faint reek of alcohol clung to him. Gone was the usual sharp, composed elegance. He looked… unsteady, as though one more wrong step might topple him.
Noah stared, uncertain.
"Asher… you've been drinking?"
Before he could get an answer, Asher's arm shot out and pulled him in—hard. The force crushed Noah against him, as though he wanted to fuse them together, bone to bone.
Noah staggered back a step under the sudden weight. The smell of liquor enveloped him, dizzying. He had no chance to push away before hot lips pressed against his throat.
"…!" Noah went rigid, instinctively shoving at him, but Asher gave him no space to retreat. The kiss dragged upward, urgent and clumsy, until it brushed the shell of his ear. Asher's voice, low and slurred, murmured there—hoarse and raw:
"Noah…"
His own name, drawn out, sticky with drunken need.
A violent shiver went through Noah. His breath came unsteady.
He knew Asher was drunk, knew this heat might not mean anything, but the weight of it—too real.
"Asher, you—" He never finished. His mouth was seized in a kiss.
It wasn't like before—those cool, deliberate kisses that always left Asher in control. This one was wild, unrestrained. Alcohol had stripped the man bare, leaving only hunger, teeth, desperation.
By the time Noah's lips were released, his eyes were wet, rimmed with red. His hands clung desperately to Asher's shirt, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. Logic whispered he should resist. But the feverish breath against his skin… made it impossible to let go.
The silence of the corridor filled only with the sound of two hearts hammering.
Asher's kisses drove him backward—stumbling into the hall, then into a bedroom.
Asher's bedroom.
The edge of the bed struck Noah's legs, and then he was pushed down, breath stolen by the weight pressing over him.
He looked up, wide-eyed. At this distance, Asher's features were disheveled, eyes burning with something frightening, something raw. His hands braced on the headboard, but his mouth never stopped—trailing along collarbones, throat, frantic and trembling.
Noah's whole body flushed hot, fingertips trembling against the man's shoulders.
—Was this going to turn into drunken sex?
The thought crashed through his head.
His pulse spiked, nerves buzzing. His voice shook: "Asher… you're drunk. Don't—"
But the only answer was another devouring kiss.
Noah's mind unraveled. Every place touched by tongue and teeth burned. He truly believed the next step—Asher would take him.
But just as he braced for it, the weight above him shifted.
Suddenly, Asher collapsed.
His forehead dropped into Noah's shoulder, breath warm and uneven—already gone to sleep.
"…Are you—seriously asleep?" Noah croaked, frozen stiff.
He waited. Seconds ticked by. No response. Just the steady rhythm of sleep.
Noah tried to wriggle free, but the moment he moved, an arm clamped tight around him. The hold was fierce, crushing, as if Asher feared letting go meant losing something forever.
Pinned, Noah's shoulders prickled numb. He muttered softly, "Asher… let me go."
No answer. Only heavy breathing—and an even tighter hold.
Noah went still, then slowly relaxed into it. His chest pressed to Asher's, he could hear it clearly—the other man's heartbeat, erratic and fast. Not calm. Not controlled. Almost frantic.
"…Drank yourself stupid, and you're still trying to cause trouble," Noah whispered, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
Strands of hair clung damp to his forehead, breath carrying a trace of wine, but the body against him radiated warmth.
For the first time, he saw Asher's sleeping face up close. No icy mask, no hauteur, no distance. Just a man—utterly spent, stripped of all defenses.
Noah's fingers moved on their own, brushing lightly along his cheek. Warm to the touch. Real. He swallowed hard, voice dropping into something fragile:
"…Honestly."
An ache spread through his chest.
From the beginning, Asher had never given him tenderness. Their contract was forced. Every touch between them, dictated by desire and power. And yet, despite all that—Noah couldn't hate him.
He shut his eyes, exhaling shakily.
"Maybe I've lost my mind."
Liking someone should have reasons. He had none. Was it because Asher was his Favorite star, the man he'd admired for years? Because admiration had blurred into something deeper? Or because, after countless nights of unwanted intimacy, he had fallen anyway?
He couldn't say.
All he knew was—his chest tightened unbearably when his fingers traced Asher's face.
—Being held like this… wasn't so bad.
Even if it wasn't the sober Asher's choice. Even if it was only the alcohol speaking. Still, Noah couldn't bring himself to let go.
Then, in the thick dark, Asher murmured. Slurred, half-asleep, but desperate:
"…Noah."
Noah froze, breath stalling.
He looked down. Asher's eyes remained closed, brow drawn tight as though trapped in a restless dream. His voice strained, urgent—like chasing something he was terrified to lose.
The room fell quiet again.
Noah didn't move. Instead, he curled closer into that iron hold. The thrum of Asher's heartbeat steadied him, strangely soothing.
Yes. Even if you never truly feel for me—even if I'm nothing but a contract-bound body to you—I still can't stop liking you.
Liking you without reason.
He turned his face toward the silhouette he knew by heart, tracing it softly with his fingers.
—Favorite star. Liking. Heartbeat. Which of these is real?
Noah didn't know.
But one thing he did know: love between them was impossible. He could still see the words on their contract—
No emotional involvement: Romantic relationship not allowed.
Asher had made it clear from the start: that line could never be crossed.
Noah's lashes quivered. He buried his face in Asher's shoulder, refusing to think further.
—Just for tonight, this is enough.