[Song recommendation: Yad- Erika Lundmoen]
Min-jae shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that smile. His chest felt tight, his pulse annoyingly quick, like he was already caught in something he couldn't shake off.
When Meical's gaze lingered too long, it was unbearable. Heat curled low in his stomach, unwanted, distracting.
"You…" Min-jae started, then stopped. His eyes darted away, to the quill, the ink, the firelight, anywhere but those dark, steady eyes.
Meical's chair scraped lightly against the floor as he rose.
Before Min-jae could retreat, a strong hand caught his wrist. In the next moment, he was pulled forward, his balance gone. He let out a startled breath as he landed squarely on Meical's lap.
"Wha—!"
Meical's hands wrapped firmly around his waist, holding him in place. Min-jae instinctively squirmed, but that only made the grip tighten.
Now, his legs straddled Meical's waist, their faces inches apart, breaths brushing.
"Let me go.." Min-jae muttered, his voice thinner than he wanted.
Meical didn't. If anything, he pulled him closer, chest to chest, as though the act of holding him was the most natural thing in the world.
"Even though you are a man…" Meical's voice was low, steady, threaded with heat. "…you seem to arouse me just as a woman would. Is it your beautiful face? The way you fit so well in my arms? Or perhaps…" his thumb brushed over Min-jae's hip, deliberate, "…your personality. You make me think in ways I normally wouldn't."
Min-jae's throat went dry. His pulse raced so fast it almost hurt.
"The last time we did it…" Meical's gaze didn't waver. "…I wasn't at my best. I made it less enjoyable for you. I want a redo."
Min-jae blinked, stunned. Redo? His mind scrambled. What did he mean by redo? His stomach twisted tighter, a rush of nerves he tried to laugh off.
But the heat in Meical's eyes made it impossible.
His lips parted, but no words came. Could it be… was he really… gay?
No. Absolutely not. He shook his head quickly. Anyone in his position would feel flustered, right? Anyone would.
Meical smiled faintly at his nervousness, his expression almost tender.
"I want us to make love.." he said simply. "I'm sure you can already feel it."
Min-jae's heart dropped to his stomach.
Make love?
Make love?!
He froze, his memories flashing sharp and raw.
The last time's pain, no was enjoyable.
He inhaled shakily, then forced a smile, meeting Meical's gaze head-on.
"No can do. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't scared. Until I can prepare myself… let's stick to kissing."
His eyes hardened, sharp with warning. If Meical pressed, he was ready to fight his way out.
But Meical only sighed, his grip tightening around Min-jae's waist as though he couldn't bear to let go.
"I am sorry.." he said softly. "Your first time with me left a scar."
Meical didn't give him time to argue. The apology was still warm on his lips when he leaned in, catching Min-jae's mouth in a kiss that stole the breath straight from his chest.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was commanding.
Meical's hand slid up, thumb angling Min-jae's chin just so, forcing his lips open.
His mouth claimed Min-jae's with unyielding precision, tongue sweeping in like he owned every corner of him.
Min-jae's heart stuttered, then raced. He let out a muffled sound, half protest, half something shamefully needy.
His fists pressed weakly against Meical's chest, trembling, pushing… but the man didn't budge.
Instead, Meical's arm locked tighter around his waist, anchoring him firmly on his lap, dragging him flush against the solid breadth of his body.
His other hand slid down Min-jae's back, spreading wide, possessive, hot through the fabric.
The kiss deepened. It grew rougher, more consuming, as if Meical were determined to draw out every sound Min-jae didn't mean to make.
And Min-jae—damn him—was making them.
A choked moan slipped free, low and humiliating, his lips parting wider as his body betrayed him.
His toes curled, thighs tightening instinctively around Meical's waist, every nerve in him sparking alive.
What was happening to him? He should fight. He should shove this man away.
But instead his chest arched, pressing closer. His fingers clutched at Meical's shirt, clinging instead of resisting, as if he were terrified the kiss might end.
Meical's mouth moved like fire and command, coaxing, devouring, drawing every bit of control right out of him until Min-jae thought he might fall apart completely.
This wasn't just a kiss.
It was surrender.
Meical's lips crashed down again, firm and unrelenting, and Min-jae's world spun.
It wasn't just the kiss, it was the way Meical looked at him before it. That gaze… dark, focused, like nothing else existed.
Like Min-jae wasn't just someone he wanted, but someone he refused to let go of.
It shook him to his core.
The kiss pressed harder, deeper, forcing a sound out of him he hadn't even known he could make. His breath hitched, chest rising and falling too fast, while heat pooled low in his body. His thoughts tangled, scattered, barely stringing themselves together.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Why… does it feel like my whole body is burning?
Why do I want more?
Meical's hands weren't idle. One splayed firm against Min-jae's back, keeping him pinned close, the other gliding up into his hair. He tilted Min-jae's head just slightly, deepening the kiss, making escape impossible.
Min-jae gasped into it, the sound swallowed instantly. He squirmed, but every move only dragged him tighter against the broad chest beneath him. His legs trembled where they wrapped around Meical's waist, his fingers curling into the fabric at Meical's shoulders.
He wanted to deny it.
He wanted to tell himself he wasn't enjoying this.
But his body betrayed him.
Fuck he was enjoying this.
Every time Meical's tongue slid against his, every time their lips clashed, Min-jae felt something dangerous uncoil inside him, something shameless, something desperate.
What's wrong with me…?
Why does it feel so good?
Why do I… want to be swallowed whole?
When Meical finally drew back, their lips parting just enough for air, Min-jae was gasping, dizzy. His lashes trembled as he dared to meet that gaze again, those eyes, burning with possession, with heat, with something so raw it made Min-jae's chest ache.
And Meical… smiled faintly, as if amused by Min-jae's dazed state.
Like he already knew, Min-jae couldn't fight him. Not really.