“I’m sorry…”
“If you really know what you’re sorry for, then from now on at least try to—ugh!”
Lee Han-seo cut himself off with a sharp gasp, glaring at Park Woo-jun who, true to habit, had started off with a tearful apology. But all of a sudden, Woo-jun had pushed his now fully hardened cock inside without so much as a warning. Han-seo didn’t even know when his pants had come down again.
His tight entrance stretched open with a near scream, swallowing the familiar intrusion inch by inch. “I’m sorry, baby,” Woo-jun sobbed again. Han-seo could only stare in disbelief.
“Mm, hey… I’m the one getting wrecked here, so why—ngh—why the hell are you the one bawling your eyes out? Shouldn’t I be the one crying right now…?”
“I can’t help it. The tears just won’t stop. I’m sorry, Han-seo. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
Clearly, the thing he was least sorry for was the way he kept slamming his hips with relentless force, leaving Han-seo breathless. Woo-jun, eyes puffy and glistening with tears, thrust into him like he couldn’t stop, like he needed to do this just to breathe. Even with the bruising grip on his waist, Han-seo, panting from the pressure, still reached up to cradle his lover’s tear-streaked face, gently wiping his cheeks. Love could be a sickness, and this… this had to be terminal.
It wasn’t even morning yet—technically, they’d already crossed into the next day—and Han-seo only had a few hours left before his deployment overseas. Every minute of sleep was precious. But after dragging him out of bed with no explanation, sobbing about some vague nightmare, Park Woo-jun had turned clingy and desperate. It should’ve been annoying, pathetic even—but instead, Han-seo found him heartbreakingly adorable. Even those trembling lips beneath soaked lashes only made him feel more protective.
“You… seriously… owe your biological parents a thank-you for giving you that face. Ngh, ahh… Got it?”
“Yeah. Got it. I will.”
“Quit crying already… If you keep crying like that—ah!—I’m gonna… gonna start feeling weird too, ngh, Woo-jun!”
Their skin rubbed together without a gap, intense friction heating every inch of contact. Pinned just right beneath him, Han-seo’s cock trembled before suddenly spilling a hot, white mess between their stomachs.
The sweat-drenched space between them was now soaked with thick, sticky cum. Unconsciously, Han-seo ground his cock against Woo-jun’s abs, raising his chest where his nipples—bitten and sucked raw just moments ago—were now red, puffy, and painfully sensitive. Woo-jun bent down eagerly, eyes dark with desire. The sight of those swollen buds, flushed and trembling, was enough to drive anyone mad.
As Woo-jun gently wrapped his lips around one and started sucking with long, slow pulls, Han-seo moaned softly, his voice melting into nasal whimpers. His shoulders trembled, and every time they did, the tight heat inside him clenched down hard on the cock buried deep inside.
What had started as a dry, painfully tight stretch had turned slick and eager. His body had given in, welcoming every thrust, greedily sucking him in deeper, tighter—demanding more.
“Hnngh, w-wait, wait a sec, Woo-jun—it’s too deep—ahhh, you’re way too deep!”
“We’re not even close. You’ve taken this much before, remember? Why’re you acting like it’s too much now? Don’t tell me you don’t wanna have sex with me?”
The one who should be crying wasn’t Han-seo—but when he looked up and saw Woo-jun staring down at him with wet, trembling eyes, it made his own eyes sting.
As if they’d silently agreed only one of them was allowed to cry at a time, the moment Han-seo teared up, Woo-jun stopped completely. Not a single sniffle. Instead, he leaned in close, kissing softly along Han-seo’s nape, then trailing his tongue along his sensitive shoulders.
His hands, which had been gripping Han-seo’s waist, slid lower. He gently spread his flushed cheeks wider, leaning more of his weight in. Han-seo whimpered, overwhelmed by the stretch.
“This feels weird—ngh—feels like my stomach’s gonna burst—uuuh, Woo-jun, ahh, it’s too deep…”
“I know. I’m sorry, baby. I love you.”
He whispered gently as Han-seo gasped for air, tongue barely hanging out from his open mouth. Then, deep inside where it was almost too tight to pull out, Woo-jun came again, thick and hot, filling him up until it spilled over.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Han-seo. I love you so much.”
And he hated himself for it—for needing something this crude and desperate just to feel like Han-seo was still real, still beside him.
***
“Hmmm… You’re really sure there’s nothing going on?”
“Yeah. There’s no ‘going on.’ I’m telling you, everything’s fine.”
“Look me in the eye.”
Soaking lazily in a tub of hot water that reached up to his chest, Han-seo narrowed his eyes at Woo-jun and grabbed his chin, tilting it so they were face to face. Water splashed noisily over the edge with the movement, but neither of them cared.
“……”
“……”
Han-seo stared at him hard, like he was running an interrogation, but Woo-jun just smiled gently. As if nothing were wrong, he scooped up warm water in his palm and poured it slowly over Han-seo’s shoulder.
“Nngh…”
No. Something’s off. There is something. I just can’t figure out what.
Han-seo turned back around, settling between Woo-jun’s legs with a frown. But the unease didn’t go away. Some part of his finely-tuned instincts—sharpened after years of playing guardian—kept sending alarms through his nervous system.
Still, Han-seo hadn’t guided any other Esper in front of him. The forced team assignment had blown over without issue. Even Julian had been told off hard enough to make Han-seo feel a little guilty. There was no reason for Woo-jun to be spiraling again.
If only Han-seo had seen it—just one person hovering around Woo-jun with obvious interest. If even one person showed signs of liking him. Then Han-seo would’ve known immediately.
Because just the existence of that kind of person—and the fact that they were living under the same roof—would be enough to make anyone feel stressed and uneasy.
Unfortunately for him, and despite all the pretense of being more experienced at socializing or more adept at handling relationships than Park Woo-jun, Lee Han-seo was no different—Woo-jun was both his first love and his first boyfriend.
To make matters worse, most people within Han-seo’s social orbit not only knew how temperamental he could be, but also knew all too well who the Bonded Pair was that he absolutely couldn’t live without. Which meant Han-seo had gone his entire life without ever needing to experience jealousy. This wasn’t about being dense—it was simply that he’d never been put in a situation where jealousy had the chance to surface. You only notice what you’ve known, and only feel what you’ve lived through, after all.
So Han-seo stayed soaking in the bath until his fingers were pruned and wrinkled. Afterward, he let himself be pampered by his annoyingly capable boyfriend, who dried him off, brushed his hair, and doted on him with the kind of affection that made him feel like a well-kept pet. Letting out a few deep, satisfied sighs, Han-seo drifted off to sleep. With only an hour and a half left before he had to wake up and prep for deployment, it was the only logical thing to do.
Their reasons may have been different, but both of them had ended up crying in the middle of the night—and both had swollen, puffy eyes to show for it. Though Woo-jun wasn’t a physical-type Esper, his recovery was still quicker than average, so he didn’t look quite as bad. But worried that someone might tease Han-seo about it the next day, Woo-jun hurried down to the first floor. A quick cold compress might help reduce the swelling.
He threw on his pajamas carelessly and started heading downstairs when—
“Hey.”
Not quite on the second floor. Not quite the first either. There, on the middle landing between floors, stood a man radiating open irritation, making no effort to hide his displeasure.
Julian.
“Seriously. Cut it out. What do you think we are—the people you live with?”
Woo-jun paused on the steps, silently listening as Julian snapped at him. Then, without responding, he simply continued down to the kitchen, opened the freezer, and poured ice into a plastic bag. Naturally, Julian followed him all the way there without hesitation.
“Are you ignoring me now? Can’t even answer? What the hell was that back there? It’s the middle of the damn night, and this is what you’re doing? You were a mess in the training room earlier, too—couldn’t even control your powers. What, are you throwing a tantrum? Protesting? Is this because of me? Because you’re pissed you lost your shot at being guided by him? You’re acting like the victim when you don’t even know who really got screwed over.”
Apparently, Julian had plenty of pent-up frustration of his own. Even as Woo-jun sealed the ice bag and reached for a towel, Julian kept going, his voice taut with tension. He clearly thought every strange thing Woo-jun had done lately was some kind of passive-aggressive message aimed at him.
If everything had gone according to Julian’s plan, he would’ve been on the same team as Woo-jun—on equal footing. He wouldn’t have needed to beg Han-seo for guiding. He could’ve demanded it outright. Watching that all fall apart had clearly left a bitter taste in his mouth.
And yet, despite the fact that it was Han-seo who had completely scrapped that plan, Julian hadn’t dared raise his voice in front of him. All this backdoor griping? It was laughable.
Woo-jun was about to head back upstairs, ignoring him entirely, but stopped a few steps short. With a quiet sigh, he turned around and looked Julian dead in the eye.
“Whether I roll around with my boyfriend at midnight or noon—what the hell does it have to do with you? If living under the same roof pisses you off that much, then move out.”
“You little—!”
Julian’s voice was sharp enough to cut.
But really—considering the situation, it was a shockingly restrained and rational response. To sit by and quietly watch your own boyfriend engage in regular physical contact with someone else, and not lose your mind? That took restraint most people didn’t have.
Compared to the violent, hungry urge Woo-jun fought every day—the desire to crush those pale hands Julian so shamelessly kept offering to Han-seo—it was a miracle.
