Seoul Rooftop – Night
The city sprawled beneath them, glittering like fractured starlight. Neon signs buzzed faintly, cars hummed far below, and the wind carried the faint tang of smoke and cherry blossoms. It was quiet, just the two of them, perched above the chaos of the streets and fans alike.
Jiwon stood near the edge, jacket unbuttoned, collar loose, fingers tapping against the railing almost unconsciously. His eyes, dark and sharp, scanned the horizon—but they weren't really looking. Not yet.
A soft sound behind him made him stiffen.
"You came," Yul said.
He was close before Jiwon even realized, the wind carrying the faint scent of his perfume—something smoky, something sweet. A presence that made Jiwon's skin prickle and pulse, like static in the air before a storm.
Jiwon turned, jaw tight, heart hammering. "I wasn't sure you'd actually show up."
Yul tilted his head, just slightly, enough that golden hair brushed his temple. "I always show up. For you."
That single line, casual but loaded, made Jiwon swallow hard.
The First Touch
Yul stepped closer, close enough that the air between them seemed to shrink. His coat flared in the rooftop wind, brushing against Jiwon's sleeve. Fingers lightly grazed Jiwon's arm—innocuous to anyone else, incendiary to him.
"Yul—" Jiwon started, but the sound of his own voice caught somewhere between command and plea.
"You don't need to say anything," Yul whispered, just above the wind. His hand brushed Jiwon's wrist, tracing the faint glow beneath his sleeve. Fingers lingered, warmth pressing into cold skin.
Jiwon's breath hitched. His free hand rose almost involuntarily, brushing the edge of Yul's coat where it fluttered across his chest. It was slow, deliberate, a test. Yul didn't pull away.
Close Enough to Burn
They were chest to chest now, the faintest space between them charged, humming like a live wire. Jiwon's pulse roared in his ears; every breath Yul took felt like it belonged to him.
Yul's hand slid from wrist to the side of Jiwon's neck, thumb brushing the curve where jaw met throat. The gesture was feather-light, intimate, yet commanding. Jiwon tilted his head, exposing himself without meaning to.
"I shouldn't…" Jiwon murmured, voice low, warning and desire tangled.
"You're already here," Yul said, voice husky. "You can't take it back now."
The Kiss – Slow Burn
Yul leaned in, a whisper away from Jiwon's lips. The wind tangled their hair, flared around them, but inside this small orbit, time slowed.
Jiwon closed the distance halfway, heart thudding in reckless abandon. The tip of Yul's nose brushed his, lips a breath apart. He could feel the warmth, the heartbeat, the steady pull of a predator who didn't want to strike—yet.
Their lips met softly at first, tentative, testing. Just a brush, a spark. Jiwon's hands came up to cup Yul's face, thumbs brushing the faint stubble along his jaw. Yul sighed against him, a low, intimate sound that made Jiwon shiver.
The kiss deepened. Lips pressed, slightly parted, tasting faint traces of the rooftop wind and something else—something Yul. Fingers tangled in hair, the pull and pressure of their bodies pressed together, just enough to feel, not to hurt.
Every motion was deliberate, slow, consuming. Every touch, glance, whisper was both a warning and a surrender.
The Aftermath
When they finally broke apart, it was by mere inches. Foreheads resting together, breaths mingling. Jiwon's chest rose and fell rapidly, hands still holding Yul's face, unwilling to let go.
"You're… insane," Jiwon whispered, voice low, ragged.
"I'm dangerous," Yul replied, golden eyes glinting in the citylight, "and I like it when you notice."
Jiwon swallowed, lost between warning and want. "I'm… not afraid."
Yul's lips brushed his again, soft, teasing. "Good. Because neither am I."
For a long moment, they simply stood there, foreheads pressed, breaths tangled, hearts racing, the city sprawling endlessly beneath them. The storm of their attraction crackled like the neon signs far below—alive, electric, undeniable.
The wind shifted again, colder now, but neither Jiwon nor Yul moved to pull away. Every gust felt like it belonged to them, wrapping around their bodies, tugging at the edges of their clothes.
Yul's fingers traced Jiwon's jawline again, slower this time, lingering at the corner of his mouth. "Do you always wear control like armor?" he asked, voice soft, teasing, but threaded with something deeper.
Jiwon's breath caught. "I—" He tried to answer, but the words tangled in his throat. What could he say? That he was a hunter, trained to kill? That all his life had been about precision and discipline—and yet, here, in Yul's presence, he felt unraveled?
Yul smiled, a small, knowing curve of his lips. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to Jiwon's. "You don't have to explain. I can see it anyway."
The city below faded into static. Lights, sounds, even the distant buzz of cars became meaningless. It was just them—two figures in the quiet chaos of the night, suspended in a moment they couldn't step out of.
Hands Exploring, Slowly
Jiwon's hands left Yul's face to trace the line of his shoulders, feeling the soft fabric of the coat, the warmth beneath. Every touch was careful, hesitant, but electric, sparking heat across skin and nerves alike.
Yul tilted his head, giving Jiwon better access, and let his hand slide down the length of Jiwon's arm. Fingers brushed over muscle, sliding almost unintentionally into the hollow at his elbow. The sensation made Jiwon shiver, involuntarily leaning into the touch.
"Do you always make people feel like this?" Jiwon asked, breath low, rough. "Like they're… burning from the inside out?"
Yul's smile deepened, a teasing glimmer in golden eyes. "Only the ones I want to notice me," he murmured. "Only the ones I let close enough."
Jiwon's pulse throbbed in answer, a drum in his ears. Closer. He wanted closer. The urge to close the final inches—to touch lips, to feel breath, to cross the line—was a force he could barely resist.
The Kiss, Intensified
This time, Jiwon didn't hesitate. He captured Yul's mouth with his, slow at first, deliberate, tasting faint hints of mint and smoke. Yul responded immediately, tilting his head, lips parting slightly, teasing, coaxing.
Hands roamed more boldly—Jiwon's gripping Yul's waist lightly, pulling him flush. Yul's hands slid up to Jiwon's shoulders, down to the small of his back, and for a moment, they moved together like a single, fluid entity.
The kiss deepened, tongues brushing, exploring, lingering—an intimate conversation that no words could match. Hearts pounded, breaths tangled, and the city's hum faded completely.
When they finally pulled back, it wasn't abrupt. They lingered—foreheads together, lips almost brushing, breathing in sync.
Yul's golden eyes searched Jiwon's dark ones. "You're holding back," he said softly, teasing, but there was a hint of demand in the words.
Jiwon's chest rose and fell. "I'm… trained to hold back."
"Not tonight," Yul whispered. His hand moved to cup Jiwon's neck, thumb brushing just under the jaw. "Tonight… don't."
Silent Promises
The wind tousled their hair, played along their coats, whispered over bare skin where touch had lingered. Jiwon's mind raced—every rule, every lesson, every hunter instinct screamed restraint. And yet, the pull to give in—to let this moment exist, just between them—was overwhelming.
Yul leaned in again, slow, deliberate, lips brushing against Jiwon's temple before settling near his ear. "I want to see what happens when you let go," he whispered, voice low, intimate.
Jiwon's hand slid into Yul's hair, gently tugging, eliciting a soft sigh that made his chest constrict. "I—I don't know if I can," he admitted, voice raw.
Yul's smile ghosted over his lips, warm and dangerous all at once. "Then let me teach you."
They stood there for long moments, the city stretching endlessly below, wind wrapping around them, their bodies close, breaths mingling. Every touch, every whisper, every heartbeat drew them closer to a line they hadn't dared cross before—but tonight, the line felt thin, fragile, and… inviting.