I've always lived a simple, uneventful life.
Nothing tragic. Nothing extraordinary.
Just...quiet.
I was the type of boy who followed the rules. Studied hard. Came home. Ate dinner with my family. Got good grades. Repeated the cycle. Not because I loved studying. I didn't. But I didn't hate it either. I just did it because that's what I was supposed to do—A good student. A good son. A responsible boy with his head on straight.
I was always the topper in class, the one teachers praised and classmates lowkey envied. But emotionally? I was a blank page. No dramatic crushes. No secret romances. No scribbled hearts in the corner of my notebook...People did confess to me back then—guys, girls... sweet ones, bold ones. But I rejected them all.
Why?
Because "studying is my priority"—that was my script. My excuse. Now that I'm 20 and in the so-called best years of my youth, I regret it. I regret never trying. I grew up watching K-Dramas, reading Chinese BL novels, getting lost in anime romances and manga scenes that made my heart flutter. I always dreamed wondered wished...
Would I ever be someone's everything?
Would someone ever look at me like I hung the stars?
Would anyone ever hold me like I mattered—like I was the main character of their universe?
But here I am.
Twenty Alone. And, yeah... still a virgin.
That word feels like a curse now.
Like it's stamped across my forehead: loser.
Not because I think sex is everything—but because I feel like I've missed out on something everyone else seems to have tasted, even once.
I've never even kissed someone. Never had someone whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Never had anyone ruin me emotionally and physically like those in books. And maybe that makes me dumb. Maybe desperate.
But I decided... I wanted to change that. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to know what it was like to be in someone's arms and be wanted—even if only for a moment.
So I made a decision. I'd get a boyfriend. Lose my virginity. Experience it, finally. I mean... it's not like I'm asking for a soulmate I just want to know what it's like to be held. I already knew I liked guys. That was never a confusion for me. But dating? I never tried. Never dared. Never had the courage.
Now that I'm an adult, I feel like I should know what love is. Or at least try to. I've waited long enough.
So I made a decision.
I'll get myself a boyfriend. Lose my virginity. I mean—come on—what do you mean I'm twenty and still a virgin?
It makes me feel like a total loser. Yeah... I knew I liked guys. That was never a question. But dating? I never dared. I never even held a guy's hand. So I downloaded an app. Everyone says it's a "good one." Safe, popular.
So... why not?
I walked along the quiet street, hands gripping the strap of my bag, pulling it tight against my shoulder. A loose light pink sweater hung over my white T-shirt, warm enough in this chilly air.
My blue jeans clung to me snugly, and my chestnut hair blew messily into my face as I scrolled through the app. I was nervous. But hopeful. The guy I matched with seemed nice. A little bland, maybe, but his looks weren't too far off my type. He asked to meet tonight. Late. I didn't question why. Maybe I should have.
A tap on my shoulder startled me.
When I turned... I blinked. Oh. It's him.
But... was it?
"...Oh. It's you," I muttered, voice unsure.
He was... taller than I expected. But also—different. Way different from the profile picture. His face, his posture, even the look in his eyes...
I'm sorry—I know I shouldn't judge by looks... But he's nothing like what I expected. Ugly!
Something about his smile made me uncomfortable. His eyes... too sharp. Too weird and eerie.
Still... I forced myself to stay calm. Maybe he has a good personality. Maybe I'm being dramatic.
"You didn't have trouble getting here, hmm?" he asked, voice too casual as his eyes slowly raked down my body.
I swallowed the unease crawling up my throat and faked a smile.
"No, I was fine getting here."
"I see. I'm Logan. What about you?" He reached out, arm casually wrapping around my shoulder. I flinched.
"...Lucan," I said quietly.
"Cute name," he smirked. Then, "Hey...it's kinda dark here. Why don't we go back to my place and have a good chat?" His voice dropped a little.
I froze. "Ah—no. I'm fine staying here."
"Aww, come on. We should hang out. I'll make sure you enjoy it." His grin turned twisted as his fingers suddenly grazed my cheek then slid down to my waist.
My breath hitched. I stepped back instantly, gripping my bag tight.
"N-no. I think I should go home—" But before I could turn away, he grabbed my wrist—roughly—slamming me back against the cold wall behind.
"W-What—?!" I gasped, heart racing.
"Where do you think you're going, pretty boy?" His breath smelled awful, his grip iron-tight. "I'm not letting you leave until I get a taste of you."
"No—Stop—!" I panicked, voice trembling. He leaned in, grabbing my chin hard as he forced his lips closer.
I struggled, heart thudding, vision blurring with tears.
Was this it? Was this really how my first kiss would be stolen—by someone like this?
How the hell did I end up in such situation?
It'd be better if I stayed home and did physic exercise questions instead.
"No! Stop—Let me go!"
But the road was empty. No footsteps. No one coming. Just fear clouding me.
Until—CRACK. A harsh punch—so strong, it echoed. Logan flew sideways, collapsing onto the ground with a painful groan, coughing as he clutched his jaw.
I gasped, frozen. Standing in front of me was someone else—tall, shrouded in the night... face unreadable... but eyes burning with fury.
"Ah—what the fuck!" Logan groaned, collapsing to the ground.
Blood gushed from his nose and his split lip, his hand clutching his face in agony.
My eyes widened, hand flying up to cover my mouth. My legs were frozen in place, heart pounding wildly in my chest.
A tall figure stood before him, calm and terrifyingly composed. "If he says no, it means no. Stop means stop," the man said in a deep, gravelly voice, calm but carrying a lethal undertone.
"Didn't they teach you that in middle school or do you need me to tattoo it into your skull?" The stranger was dressed entirely in black—black jeans hugging long legs, black boots, a black leather jacket draped over his shoulders like sin itself. One hand held a lit cigarette between two fingers, glowing red at the tip. The other hand was loosely curled into a fist, knuckles already bruised from the punch he'd thrown.
"You—" Logan wheezed, trying to get up, but his words were cut off with a harsh kick to his gut, making him curl in on himself with a pained grunt.
"Out. Before I call the cops," the man said, his tone still dangerously calm. Logan glared up at him, blood dripping down his face, but didn't dare respond. He staggered to his feet, sending me one last glare, then limped away into the night like a beaten rat.
I stood frozen for a second, processing everything, before snapping out of it and rushing forward.
I feel so dumb...
"Wait!" I called, jogging to catch up with the man. "Hey—uhm, thank you. I mean it. If you hadn't shown up... I don't even know what would've happened to me. Really, thank you so much."
He took a drag of his cigarette and turned his head lazily to look at me. His eyes—amber-gold under the streetlight—met mine, and I felt something tighten in my chest.
"Are you stupid?" he asked bluntly, voice low and growling. "How did you end up in this kind of shit?"
I flushed. "I... well, I was just trying out a dating app... It was my first time using one. I didn't think it'd be this bad..."
His eyebrow rose. "Dating app?"
"Yeah... I just..." I rubbed the back of my neck, avoiding his gaze. "I wanted to get a boyfriend. And... you know, lose it my uhm, I mean..." My voice trailed off in embarrassment.
He stared at me, then a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So you're tired of being single, huh?"
I nodded, cheeks burning.
"And let me guess..." His eyes narrowed slightly, the teasing note in his voice deepening. "You're still a virgin, and tonight you thought—why not?"
My eyes widened in shock. "W-What... How did you—?"
"Bullseye," he chuckled darkly. He leaned against the lamppost, arms crossed. "Then why didn't you just go with that guy? He seemed more than ready."
"He was ugly!" I blurted before I could stop myself.
He blinked. Then laughed. A full, deep laugh that curled in my stomach like warm smoke. "Ugly, huh?" he said, amusement dancing in his voice.
"I-I mean he made me feel weird! And unsafe!" I stammered. "Not just the looks—I didn't like how he touched me, I just wanted to leave..." His chuckle faded into a low hum. He stepped closer. I didn't even notice until he was right in front of me, crouching slightly so we were at eye level.
"Do you want to lose it that bad?" he asked quietly.
I blinked. His face was too close. Too sharp. Too beautiful. His lips were just slightly parted, cigarette smoke still lingering between them. His eyes burned with something unreadable.
I hesitated... then gave the tiniest nod. He exhaled slowly and stood up again, towering over me.
"Well... I'm not interested in playing boyfriend. That cheesy stuff's not my thing." My heart dropped just a bit. "But..." he said, gaze darkening, "if all you want is to lose that precious V-card of yours... I can help you with that. No strings. Just a clean trade."
I froze, mouth slightly parted. Did I just get propositioned by the hottest man I've ever seen? He leaned down again, closer this time, lips hovering just a few inches away from mine. My breath hitched, and I felt my heart stop.
"I won't do anything unless you say it clearly," he said in a low voice. "Yes or no."
My grip tightened on my bag strap. My brain screamed this is crazy, but my body... it burned.
Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was how safe he made me feel compared to that creep, or maybe it was just him. His voice, his face, the way his presence wrapped around me like a fire in the cold.
I looked into his eyes. "...Yes," I whispered.
The smirk returned. "Good." He didn't wait another second. He grabbed my wrist—not hard, but firm—and began pulling me with him down the empty road. I stumbled a step behind him, dazed and breathless.
"Hop on," he said, flicking away the last bit of his cigarette before handing me a helmet. The bike behind him was a beast—sleek, black, and luxurious. It looked like it could cost more than my entire life combined. I held the helmet in my hands, wide-eyed and shocked.
"I've... never ridden a bike before," I admitted, voice small.
He smirked slightly. "I figured."
Taking the helmet from me, he gently placed it over my head, adjusting the strap. His fingers brushed against my skin as he tucked away a stray strand of hair from my eyes, and then he pointed to the seat behind him before swinging his long legs over and straddling the bike. His movements were effortless, fluid, and confident. He put on his own helmet as I hesitantly climbed on, struggling to balance.
Without thinking, I grabbed onto the back of his jacket tightly.
"Ah—sorry!" I pulled my hands back, unsure if that was okay.
He reached back, took my hands, and placed them firmly around his waist.
"It's okay," he said simply. "Hold on tight. I ride fast."
Before I could respond, the engine roared to life beneath us, and we shot off into the night.
My heart leapt to my throat. The wind bit at my skin, and adrenaline surged through my veins. It was terrifying... and exhilarating. I held him tighter, my arms wrapped firmly around his waist, my body pressed to his back as the city blurred around us.
I never knew a bike ride could feel like this—like flying. Like freedom.
Minutes later, we stopped in front of a two-storey luxury apartment. The building looked expensive, the kind you'd see in a movie. The inside was dark-themed—glass walls, cool tones, dark furniture, minimalistic but rich in style.
I barely got the chance to take it all in before he pulled me up the stairs. And then, I was thrown gently onto the bed.
The mattress was soft, and I landed with a slight bounce, propping myself up on my elbows. He stood before me, casually shrugging off his jacket. His white t-shirt clung to his frame, collarbones peeking through the loose neckline. His expression? Calm, confident, and unreadable... but his eyes—they looked like they were about to devour me.
"You know where you are, right?" he asked, voice low, husky.
I nodded slowly. "Your place."
"Good." He took a step closer, eyes sharp and unreadable. "Can I ask you something? Why did you agree to come here with me? How do you know I'm not just like the guy from earlier?"
I swallowed, my voice shaky but honest.
"I... I don't know. You feel different. You helped me when he wouldn't stop. That means you're a good person, right?"
His brow lifted. "That's it?"
I flushed. "You're also really good-looking..." I muttered.
His lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "Really?"
I nodded quickly. "I've never seen anyone as handsome as you."
That earned me a low, dominant chuckle that made my heart skip.
He pulled off his shirt's jacket layer, leaving just the loose white tee that dipped low enough to show off his neck and collarbones. A thin silver chain with a crescent moon charm slipped out, glinting in the light and almost brushing my lips as he leaned over.
"Let me ask again," he said, walking over to the drawer. He took out two mints and popped them in his mouth before continuing.
"Do you know what we're doing here?"
I nodded.
"You want this?"
Another nod, slower this time. My pulse was racing.
"Are you fully aware of your decision?"
I nodded again. His eyes scanned mine—one last check. "Good," he said finally. Then his tone shifted—firm, cold, deliberate.
"Before we start—let me make one thing clear." He walked back toward me, looming but not in a threatening way. His words hung in the air like a warning. "This is your first time. That means there's a chance you'll start catching feelings—little things like affection, maybe even love."
He paused, then met my eyes directly.
"Don't. I don't do that. So don't fall for me."
I blinked, caught off guard. There was a strange twist in my chest—was it disappointment? He continued, softer now.
"In return, I'll make sure it's the best damn night of your life."
A silent agreement. A rule laid bare.
I hesitated for a moment... then nodded.
And with that, his smirk returned, eyes glinting like liquid gold in the dark. The rules were simple.
But I had no idea if I could follow them.
He smiled faintly, those long fingers reaching up to gently cradle my chin.
"No matter how much I want you... I won't touch unless you say it—clearly. I don't do anything without consent." His voice dropped as he leaned closer, inch by inch, his breath warm on my skin.
I nodded, heart pounding.
"Yes, I want it. Please... I'm willing."
That was all the invitation he needed. His lips pressed firmly against mine. It felt like a thousand flowers blooming inside me. His lips were cold and thin but unbelievably soft, carrying the sweet hint of strawberry and blueberry candy from the mints he'd been chewing.
The kiss was deep, passionate—new and overwhelming. I felt numb, unsure what to do but completely captivated.
He broke the kiss with a soft sigh and whispered, "Relax... you don't have to know what to do. You'll learn as we go. Just follow my lead." He licked his lips, and I swear, I'd never heard a sigh so hot.
"Move your lips with mine, and part them when I ask. Okay?"
I nodded, barely daring to breathe. He kissed me again, this time rougher and deeper.
A small bite to my lip caught me off guard, but I understood immediately—part your lips.
I obeyed, and he slid his tongue inside, rolling it against mine. The shock shot through me like electricity. This sensation was so new, so thrilling.
My heart fluttered wildly, giddy and weird—was this what they called butterflies?
My eyes blurred and stung with tears as he teased every inch of my mouth, licking my lips possessively before pulling back with a thin string of saliva connecting us.
"Did that feel good?" he asked, his confidence making me melt.
I could only nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as I watched him lean back.
Then a sudden thought crossed my foggy mind. I tried to ask despite everything feeling hazy. "Shouldn't... we know names?"
He chuckled and reached over to the nightstand, pulling out a small packet and some ointment whose purpose I wasn't sure of. "Right. What's your name?"
"Lucan," I whispered.
"Okay, Lucan... I'm Nathiel—" he smirked wickedly, "and that's the name you'll be screaming all night long. Got it?"
Confusion flashed across my face, but before I could react, he yanked off his remaining t-shirt. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and six-pack abs hit me like a thunderbolt, leaving me breathless and utterly blinded by the sight.
My face, neck, and ears flushed red as he, somehow with supernatural ease, slipped off my sweater and t-shirt without me even noticing.
Did he have some kind of magic power to remove clothes? His fingers traced over my cold skin, sending shivers down my spine.
"Such a beautiful body you have—soft, untouched, all mine tonight." He whispered, leaning down to press his lips against my collarbone.
The small sound I let out betrayed me, and a fresh wave of embarrassment flooded my cheeks.
He smirked at my reaction. "You're not allowed to hold back—every sound you make tells me exactly how good I'm driving you. So don't even think about stopping... I need to hear it all."
Suddenly, my eyes flew open. We were completely bare, skin pressed to skin, and my hands flew to cover my face, overwhelmed by how exposed I felt. His touch was exploring places I never imagined someone else would touch.
His breath brushed over my inner thighs as he whispered,
"Don't hide it... every flicker on your face is a turn-on. Your every expression's pure fire." That smirk again, so dangerous and irresistible.
"Just lay back and relax... I'll handle everything."
He pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, leaving me flushed, trembling, and utterly numb.
Before I knew it, the entire night had passed. I finally lost my virginity—and now I understood what he meant by screaming his name all night long, because that's exactly what I did. Every inch of my skin had been touched, caressed, kissed—sometimes with gentle passion, sometimes with roughness that sent waves of pain and pleasure crashing through me.
At first, Nathiel was careful, preparing me slowly. But as the night wore on, his touch grew rougher, igniting every sense I didn't even know I had. I never imagined such a thing could happen, or feel this good. The night was long, and between the haze of sensations, I found myself stealing glances at him—his face flushed with sweat, the way that sinister, confident smirk played on his lips, and that deep, low husky voice that whispered for me to relax.
The way he said my name, locking his intense eyes on mine, left me completely speechless.
Everything felt... miraculous. I'd never felt so alive, so consumed by something so raw and new.