Chapter Text
Eight o’clock sharp, and the streets of Mangwon looked deserted, neon signs flickering against the sheen of rainwater still glistening on the asphalt after the downpour minutes earlier.
Wonbin dragged his sore feet along the ground, his clothes damp from stepping through puddles, moving as if the life had been drained out of him.
It was impossible not to get wet, so he didn’t even bother trying to dodge the raindrops. The shoulder-length strands of hair plastered to his tired face did nothing to hide his irritation. He was dissatisfied, with the mistakes he’d made during training, with the gray, rainy day, and with everything his father had said over the phone.
(…) You’re getting too old to live like this, without direction. At least try to get into a university. (…)
In other words: ‘I won’t be supporting you much longer.’ That was his father’s polite way of saying he didn’t want to see him in ballet anymore, something that was never really new.
Wonbin came from a family of policemen. His grandfather, father, and older brother had all followed the same path, creating a tradition among the men in their lineage. Naturally, no one ever supported his career as a ballet dancer.
Still, it got to him sometimes.
His eyes drifted toward the horizon as he clutched the transparent umbrella in his tired hand, trying to focus on the cityscape at night, even though he could barely see anything without his glasses.
…
He should probably blame Miss Jang for introducing him to ballet back in Ulsan, during his second year of elementary school, or maybe his mother, for agreeing to it.
‘Your son has the right build and flexibility. What do you think about taking him to a trial ballet class?’ Now, he couldn’t imagine himself without dancing, even though the grueling training left him covered in bruises and soreness, and his family still refused to see it as a 'masculine' pursuit.
Maybe he should try university… A sigh, more like a low groan, escaped his chapped lips.
Wonbin rolled his eyes at the thought, stubborn as always, deciding he’d ignore his father’s complaints for a while longer.
His exhausted body climbed the stairs to the small apartment, the only place two young men without steady jobs could afford, with an irritation he couldn’t even put into words.
“Rough day?” Was the first thing Shotaro said when he saw him at the door, looking like a drenched kitten, taking off his shoes and closing his transparent umbrella without caring about the droplets that splashed onto his already wet face.
Wonbin spared himself any comments, at least until he’d had a long, hot shower and swapped his damp clothes for a soft cotton pajama set.
He’d earned it, after such an intense day of training.
Ten minutes of pure relaxation, and his tense muscles finally began to loosen. The time spent under the shower had nearly lulled him to sleep, even while standing.
Some people called that exhaustion one of the curses of ballet, but he saw it differently, as a good sign, proof that he had pushed himself to the limit during the day.
A romanticized view, maybe not a healthy one. But after so many years, pain had become his companion in bad times.
…
Wonbin was drawn back toward the kitchen and living room by the pleasant aroma of dinner that hit his nose the moment he stepped out of the bathroom.
Grilled chicken breast with sesame and assorted namul, probably.
His mood had improved after the hot steam had soaked into his skin like a tiny sauna, easing the irritation that had been clinging to him earlier.
Living with Shotaro had its perks. The older one carried all the proactiveness he lacked when it came to cooking.
They both followed strict diets, though the Japanese was a contemporary dancer. Eating junk food or ultra-processed snacks was never on the menu. One of them had to cook, and, of course, it was never going to be him.
"I think I’ll try for college next year. I can’t stand my father in my ear anymore." Wonbin slumped dramatically onto the kitchen island, huffing, until Osaki turned from the stove to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, it’s not like I have a future in ballet. It’s time to start thinking about plan B."
It was frustrating.
After leaving Ulsan and joining a small ballet company in Seoul, the thought of failure had never lingered long in his determined mind, at least not until one year stretched into three stagnant ones, fighting endlessly for a glimpse of recognition.
…No matter how well he knew how difficult it was to be a male dancer, he couldn’t help but feel like a complete washout.
That’s why he always shoved his father’s words into the back of his mind.
"As far as I’m concerned, you still have a bright future in ballet. But getting into university doesn’t sound bad. You could do both." Of course, his best friend would try to cheer him up, with a faint, affectionate smile that didn’t quite reach him.
"If I go to university, I’ll quit ballet." A weary sound escaped his lips before he could stop it, and his gaze drifted toward the drama playing on the living room TV.
Wonbin knew that once he started studying, he wouldn’t be able to perform at the same level anymore. He was a professional dancer. It would be more dignified to quit before being asked to leave the company than to go through that humiliation.
Ballet was the only serious thing in his life.
"Why think so drastically? Come on, Bin, you’re the most diligent person I know. You’re totally capable of doing both." Shotaro had that habit of advising him like a mother would, with a hint of wisdom despite not being much older.
"Hyung, no…" Wonbin groaned, resting his elbows on the marble counter and burying his face in his hands, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Forget it. I’ll think about it later. I don’t want to deal with that right now. I’m too stressed."
‘Stressed’ was putting it mildly…
…
"You should go out and clear your head." Well, he would go to a club and drink until he forgot his own name, if that wouldn’t completely break his diet and earn him a scolding from his ballet instructor the next day.
"I mean, maybe meet someone."
Shotaro let out an amused laugh at his own suggestion, and Wonbin stared at him in disbelief.
"Are you telling me to have sex? Do I really look that miserable to you?" It had been months since he’d last spent the night with anyone, the convenience store clerk down the street, who had hit on him first, but he didn’t think he looked that pitiful.
It wasn’t a matter of lack of options. He had always known what people thought of his looks, and it wasn’t rare for strangers to ask him out.
Plenty of men were interested in him on a daily basis, but ballet had always been his top priority. There was no room left for relationships.
"A little bit," Shotaro laughed at his offended expression as he set clean dishes on the kitchen island and turned off the stove.
The smell of sesame-grilled chicken made his stomach growl audibly.
"Well, I can’t just go to a party, you know that." Wonbin knew himself too well. Going to a club or a pub, he’d end up taking a few shots just to get in the mood.
He took a bite of the food and closed his eyes at the balanced flavor. Osaki really was a great cook.
"I’m not just going to go out there, find the first decent-looking stranger I see, and ask if he wants to fuck. I’m not that desperate, no matter what you think."
That night with the convenience store clerk had been a mix of convenience and pleasure. The man, a computer science student, had flirted with him several times, and was attractive enough. That was the only reason he’d agreed, though he’d stopped replying to the guy’s messages days later.
…
Shotaro sat down to eat, and after a big bite, wiped his lips and looked at him as if he’d just remembered something important. The sleeves of his beige sweatshirt were still rolled up, revealing pale arms, a sharp contrast to Wonbin’s light pink bear-print pajamas and the white skincare headband on his head.
"What about a blind date? A friend from the dance studio told me about a new app yesterday. They say it’s safe, they even run background checks before matching people."
"Hyung, I don’t want a boyfriend." Unless he’s rich enough to fix my life. His mind added sarcastically, while his lips popped in clear annoyance.
Blind dates, 'Sogaeting', were common in Korea and other parts of Asia. What bothered him wasn’t the safety issue (some platforms really did take that seriously), but the intentions of the people who used them. Most were looking to date seriously, get married, start a family, the opposite of what he wanted.
"Times have changed. Not everyone goes on blind dates looking for a serious relationship anymore. Sometimes people just want to have fun." Shotaro insisted, but shrugged with a small sigh, probably already expecting the answer he’d get. "You’ve been stressed for a while. It might be good to take your mind off ballet, and your father."
…
Ok. The older one had a point.
Wonbin dropped his jeotgarak on the marble counter and gave him an intense look, considering it for a moment before scoffing and exhaling sharply.
"No. Forget that idea."
XxX
In the end, he bitterly regretted agreeing to Shotaro’s suggestion, and with every second spent scanning the half-empty coffee shop he had chosen as the meeting place for the blind date, he felt more and more ridiculous.
Resorting to something like this just to meet someone, and hopefully have sex, seemed like pure desperation, at best.
…
At first, Wonbin refused the idea, and the Japanese man never brought it up again. After dinner, they watched a drama and went to bed early, planning to wake up at dawn the next day. The following two weeks, however, were a blur of monotony and stress, pushing him to the verge of an existential breakdown. As if fate wanted to mock him, he finally decided to satisfy his craving.
The message from his older brother had triggered the situation he found himself in.
'Ignore Appa. Do what you love, and I’ll support you.' Wonbin didn’t want to worry his brother with his petty problems, so he swallowed his frustration and told him not to worry about him.
In truth, he needed to forget reality for a while, even if drinking soju wasn’t an option.
He looked around at the coffee shop interior again and crossed his arms, impatient. The place was minimalist, completely white, with tall windows, long spherical pendants, and black accents. The kind of spot people went to for aesthetic photos, serving overpriced coffee and suspiciously flavored desserts.
Either way, it wasn’t like he was going to try the menu. He was on a diet, after all.
Wonbin had only chosen this location because he figured it was the kind of place people used for blind dates, to mask their true intentions.
The thought of being paired with an ugly guy worried him for what felt like the hundredth time, and he silently cursed Shotaro as his leg bounced under the table.
(…) If he’s ugly, just make up an excuse and leave (…)
Not that it would be so easy. He didn’t have the guts to simply stand up and walk out, unless the man turned out to be unbearably dull too.
For now, the only things he knew were the guy’s name and nationality. He’d freaked out when Shotaro, who had actually created the profile for him, said those were the only details available.
Wonbin had no idea how blind dates even worked. This was his first and would definitely be its last experience with anything like it, so no one could blame him for reacting negatively.
And yet, he’d gone all out for the occasion. A plain black shirt with a curved neckline that revealed his sharp collarbones and the star-shaped necklace his parents had given him as a teenager, claiming it would lead him to the peak of his ballet career. A black leather jacket, fitted dark jeans, and combat boots. It would be a total waste of effort if the guy stood him up, especially since he was already a little late.
A foreigner who spoke Korean like a native. That detail stuck with him as he tried to picture what the man looked like, only to frustrate himself when he realized he couldn’t.
Just as he unlocked his phone to check the time, the sound of approaching footsteps in the coffee shop made him look up quickly.
The first thing that hit him was the scent. A warm amber fragrance drifted through the air like invisible smoke, cutting through the strong aroma of coffee. It was intoxicating enough to hold his attention as the person stopped in front of him.
“Park Wonbin?” The man’s lips curved into a wide, friendly smile, so sudden that all he could do was blink a few times to pull himself back to reality. “I’m Lee Anton. Nice to meet you.”
…
Wow. Definitely an eight and a half.
Black hair parted down the middle, long for a man yet still shorter than his own, a beautiful nose, surely sculpted by a surgeon’s hand, full lips, and a tall, imposing build like that of a wardrobe come to life.
Wonbin tried not to show it, but he was impressed. The man, Lee Anton, hung his dark overcoat on the chair, revealing a sky-blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to expose his silver necklace, prompting him to remember he had to respond.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee. But you’re a little late.” Of course, he wouldn’t miss the chance to tease him, that was always the best way to break the ice.
It worked, because the other scratched the back of his neck, visibly embarrassed.
“Sorry about that. I’ve been struggling not to get lost in the streets and avenues of Seoul.” Another small, sheepish smile graced his beautiful lips as he finally sat across from him, the exposed skin of his chest shifting with the motion. “Did you wait long?”
Yes. About nineteen minutes, since he had arrived early.
“No.” Wonbin shrugged as if it didn’t matter, wetting his dry lips, feeling, for the first time in months, genuinely curious about someone.
“Good.” Anton sighed in relief, then gave him a quick once-over before letting out a soft, airy laugh. His voice was low and melodic, almost drowned out by the ambient noise. “You’re beautiful.”
Straight to the point.
That caught him off guard. His eyes practically sparkled with amusement.
Wonbin was used to hearing compliments, but something about this man’s tone, an almost reverent sincerity, struck a chord in him, one that loved being flattered, adored, admired.
A playful smile spread across his face as he adjusted his posture and eyed Anton’s handsome features with feline interest.
“You’re not bad yourself.”
And contrary to what he expected, the other’s face flushed a faint shade of red as he caught the remark, his soft-looking lips parting with a trembling laugh.
“It’s nice to hear that from someone like you.” Oh, Wonbin had never felt such greedy curiosity for someone in such a short time. The urge to press all the imaginary buttons of Anton’s shyness bubbled up inside him.
Maybe he should thank Shotaro.
The man quickly recovered his composure, glancing around the coffee shop with casual interest before picking up the menu from the table. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Not yet, but you can get me a black coffee, no sugar.” He noticed him raise an eyebrow.
“Nothing else?” That was considerate... Wonbin recognized the gesture and hummed lightly.
“Hm.” He shook his head, reaching out to point at the food options on the menu Anton held. “I’m a ballet dancer. My diet’s strict. But feel free to order whatever you want. I promise I won’t be disappointed.”
Jokes were part of his nature, especially when meeting strangers. It was the easiest way to break the tension.
And truth be told, he wouldn’t have cared even if the other man ate the most delicious food in the world right in front of him. The odds of him breaking his diet were still close to zero.
The final tease drew a laugh from the man, who set the menu down decisively.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll join you for coffee.” He really was kind. Wonbin hadn’t known that such a simple gesture could make his ears turn red, until he had to look away to hide how much that small act affected him. The other lifted a finger to his chin, thinking for a moment. “So, you’re a dancer… Somehow, that fits you. I mean, your appearance.”
Again, it wasn’t a hollow compliment. The sincere way Anton smiled, his eyes bright with thoughts he would never know, left no doubt about his genuineness.
“Yeah?” Wonbin knew he shouldn’t feel so vain about it, but the hunger for attention bubbled inside him while the foreigner called the waiter and placed their order.
“Yes, you look like someone who’s used to being seen. In a way, it would be a waste if your beauty couldn’t be appreciated by the world. That’s why I think being a dancer suits you.” His eyes widened slightly at how easily Anton spoke once the waiter walked away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. In seconds, he had become the complete opposite of the shy man Wonbin had just met.
That duality, being faced with someone who blushed when teased but could flirt shamelessly without even twitching a muscle, left him speechless for a brief moment.
“My beauty isn’t the only thing the world should appreciate.” Still, Wonbin corrected him without real anger. It was common for others to reduce him to his looks, though it always bothered him.
“Of course. You must also be an excellent dancer.” He had expected that response, enough to let out a laugh.
“You’ve never seen me dance to know that.”
At least until Anton’s wide grin accompanied him, and the next question caught him completely off guard.
“Is that an invitation?”
…
Wonbin couldn’t hold it in.
Heat flushed over his face and down his neck, and a dry choke forced him to look away again, wishing the pendant above his head would just fall and save him from the embarrassment.
He didn’t know what exactly led to that moment, besides the blatant question, but he was certain that the man’s damned smile would be his downfall.
“And you, Mr. Lee, what do you do?” It was the weakest attempt to regain whatever confidence he might’ve had. Anton not only noticed but laughed at the redness that refused to leave his cheeks and ears.
“Please, don’t call me ‘Mr.’ I’m only twenty-four.” Oh? That sparked an instant amusement in his mind as the other continued. “I work for a new men’s tailoring franchise. I’m in Korea to help open a branch.”
That explained the elegant suit he wore, probably from that brand Wonbin had never even heard of.
“I’m two years older than you, so you should call me Hyung.” Finally, he found another chance to tease him. His grin widened when Anton’s eyes went round with surprise, his expression twisting at the next joke. “I’m a little disappointed, honestly. I was expecting to meet a charming, single multimillionaire ready to fix my entire life.”
It took half a second for that to register before the foreigner burst into his first genuine, loud laugh. It was contagious.
The atmosphere between them shifted, growing lighter, deliberately disguising the sexual tension built from lingering glances and unnecessary touches.
It took Anton a while to recover from laughing.
“Do I look poor to you?” He raised a brow while helping the waiter with the coffees.
So considerate. Wonbin didn’t know why he was being so observant of every little detail about him, but he couldn’t stop watching, with intense fascination.
From the way their fingers brushed when Anton handed him the cup, to the shape of his arm muscles. Suddenly, everything about him seemed designed to draw out desire.
“Well, rich people don’t go on blind dates in places like this.” His eyes reluctantly left the area they had been focused on.
…
The man sitting across from him didn’t seem poor, far from it, but there was a huge difference between being well-off and truly rich, especially in a hierarchical country like Korea.
Wonbin came from an upper-middle-class family in Ulsan, and even though he’d given up some comforts after moving to Seoul, since life in the capital was expensive, he had never met a person of immense wealth.
The truly rich wouldn’t willingly visit overpriced coffee shops like this, much less go on blind dates with people outside their own class or social circle.
It was obvious, though Anton seemed to have a good job. His clothes and confident posture proved that without him having to say a word.
Still, the other didn’t seem offended or bothered by the remark. He only shook his head, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips.
“A friend said it would be fun, so here I am.”
Once again, Wonbin found it hard to focus on the man’s handsome facial features instead of the details of his body, specifically the slight opening of his shirt that revealed a glimpse of pale skin.
From the start, he’d felt hypnotized, his attention drifting back and forth to that spot. And if Anton had noticed, he said nothing.
“Then that makes two of us. I’m here to have fun too.” He made the first move, letting his leather jacket slip off to the side on purpose as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips, the faint curve of his mouth anything but subtle.
Wonbin hadn’t imagined that, after leaving the coffee shop, Anton would press him against the passenger seat of his own car and devour his lips until his mind turned hazy. The distinct scent of amber suddenly filled the air around them, wrapping them in an almost tangible haze.
Their mouths collided, tongues tangling in a hungry exchange of bitter caffeine and heat, a deep, wet dance that carried all the tension they’d built up moments earlier.
He let out a sharp moan as Anton caught his lower lip and pulled it slowly, sensually. His trembling hands found purchase against the broad back of the man looming over him.
He needed anything to ground himself. The friction of their clothed hips made him ache with a hormonal teenage urgency he thought he’d outgrown.
Wonbin threw his head back in a desperate search for air, his mind utterly blank the moment the other's attention drifted to the curve of his flawless neck.
“Shit, Anton…” His legs trembled when he felt teeth sink just below his jawline. Large hands slid to his waist, testing the fit of his body with a firm squeeze. “God… wait.”
Where had that earlier shyness gone? He barely had time to think about it, or to process the fact that the man apparently owned a brand-new Audi with red leather seats.
When he’d asked, Anton explained that the company he represented in Korea had lent it to him for the duration of his stay. Whatever that meant, he didn’t care enough to question it, being far too turned on to notice details.
At some point back in the coffee shop, Wonbin thought he’d have to be the one to make the first move. But when things flipped, he couldn’t hide the electric rush of desire that made him hard as stone. It was absurd, reaching that point from nothing but a few breathless kisses.
“Do you want to have fun somewhere else?” Anton murmured, pulling back from his neck. He took a few seconds to process the disheveled sight above him, ragged breathing, swollen red lips parted, messy hair, shirt unbuttoned halfway, and that teasing grin that would have gone unnoticed if they weren’t so close.
He looked like a devil in disguise. And without meaning to, a hot surge of possessiveness ran through Wonbin.
“Let’s go.” He didn’t think twice before grabbing Anton’s muscular arms with both hands, a silent need to claim him flashing in his chest. “But you’re paying for the motel.”
The man laughed.
“Huh? Aren’t I supposed to be the poor one, Hyung?” The sarcasm dripped from his tone like a lazy melody, making him even more alluring than Wonbin could have imagined.
“You’re the only one with a real job.” He pinched one of his biceps in retaliation, ignoring the pained grunt and the laughter that followed. “Don’t act like you don’t want this too. Seconds ago you were on my neck like a vampire.”
Anton didn’t reply right away. Instead, he did something that caught him off guard again.
In a fraction of a second, a veiny hand smoothed the top of his head, sweeping the messy strands back behind his ears before the owner pressed a hasty kiss to his lips and returned to the driver’s seat with a radiant smile.
“Fair enough.”
Contrary to what he thought, Anton didn’t take them to a motel. He was considerate enough to drive to a modest but decent hotel, after a quick stop at a convenience store on the way to buy lubricant and condoms.
Wonbin had to admit that earned him a point. Not that the place itself made much difference, given how turned on he had gotten inside the car.
As long as it wasn’t filthy, he’d let this man fuck him in the first available place.
…
When they entered the room, he was the first to press their lips together, hungry. The leather jacket slipped from his shoulders in an instant, hitting the polished floor with a soft thud, and Anton’s large hands ran beneath his black shirt, finding his slim waist as if they belonged there.
The touch of cold fingers on bare skin was electric, a violent shiver running through his body as firm squeezes landed on that ultra-sensitive area, sure to leave marks by morning. His hips moved on instinct, desperate for friction.
The kiss was nothing like the frantic clash in the car. It felt more like a silent struggle for dominance, one Wonbin lost the moment the other sucked on his tongue with such confidence it stole his breath.
Anton’s hands moved again, bold and sure, gliding along his back to pull him closer until he felt the hard, unyielding surface of the man’s pelvis against his own. The evidence of his desire, coupled with his own throbbing need, made his head spin.
He needed to be fucked. Now.
His mind erased every problem that had haunted him lately. The stagnation in ballet, his father’s pressure, everything melted away into a haze that left only one thing behind: desire.
Anton noticed his body’s responsiveness, pulling back just enough to smile. One hand came up to cradle Wonbin’s face, his thumb brushing gently over his lower lip.
Gentleness never left his touch, even in moments when pleasure took over.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to do this back at the coffee shop.” The confession made him sigh again.
It was good to know he hadn’t been the only one struggling with desire earlier.
The words snapped part of his consciousness back and reignited his confidence.
“Well, you had your chance in the car. Now it’s my turn to have some fun.” Wonbin pushed him in the chest with just enough force to make Anton’s eyes widen in surprise. He wet his lips and smiled.
“Yeah? You want to have fun?” The slow way he unbuttoned the remaining buttons of his shirt made him huff quietly.
“You doubted my stamina as a dancer earlier. Guess I should show you what I can really do.” A sharp, teasing tone escaped his lips, and the other instantly understood what he means, stripping down to nothing but his underwear before throwing himself lazily onto the bed.
“Well then, have your fun, prince.” Anton sounded genuinely curious, and Wonbin wasted no time shedding his own clothes. Predatory eyes traced every inch of his lean, sculpted body until a sudden word of praise awoke a dormant, primal instinct.
"You're so beautiful."
The man didn’t know it yet, but he was about to create a real monster. For some reason, Wonbin was extremely reactive to compliments during sex.
"Wow." He heard him murmur, mesmerized by his shoulders, as he crawled onto the bed like a small, hungry animal.
When he sat on Anton’s thick, muscular thighs, his hands instinctively squeezed them, just to revel in the surprised moan he received in return.
"What do you want me to do?" The other asked, looking up at him like a devoted subject.
Wonbin felt powerful.
"Nothing. Just appreciate my pretty face." He reached for the tube of lubricant and huffed when he realized Anton had left the bag by the door. "Why didn’t you bring it here?"
"I’m sorry, I… I got lost in your beauty." And there it was again, the shy blush spreading across his face. Despite the cheesiest line Wonbin could have possibly heard, the way he shrank a little and flushed so deeply left him frozen for a moment.
Oh, he would die from this man’s endless duality. He couldn’t decide which side he preferred, the one that attacked him like someone possessed, or the bashful, hesitant one.
Whatever it meant, this was not the time to think about it.
Wonbin did a sloppy job preparing, as the rush took over. Anton’s hands, which at one moment squeezed his waist to drain all the excitement and the next smoothed his trembling thighs to encourage him, only made him more impatient.
He was on the verge of exploding with lust. There was no time for foreplay, or for appreciating the beautiful parts of the other man’s body, aside from the perfect face that stared at him with devotion.
"Fuck." When Wonbin finally sank onto him, a brief pang of regret shot through him. Anton was large, and maybe he should have stretched a bit more beforehand. A groan escaped from both of them as his tight interior strained to take him in.
It hurt like hell, and he would definitely find it difficult to walk the next day.
He was lucky it was Sunday; that meant no training. Otherwise, his ballet teacher would punish him.
"You're so… big." A shaky whimper escaped him. It felt like forever before he finally took all of him. The breath he’d been holding burst out in a rush, leaving his body trembling.
His neglected member throbbed.
"And you are perfect." Until now, the effort of riding him had kept him from noticing Anton’s satisfied expression, praising him like a devoted worshipper murmuring prayers.
A red chest, swollen lips thanks to the earlier bites and kisses, and a broad, muscular body similar to those Renaissance depictions of Greek gods. This figure gazed at him with hunger, though the hands forcefully grounded on his waist made no attempt to rush him.
It was the silent expectation and the encouragements that convinced him to give shy thrusts, making Anton exhale deeply. Fingers squeezed the abused area of Wonbin’s hips until a whimper, a mewl, was torn from the back of his throat.
"This… You are doing so well." Anton helped him move, after letting out a grunt, almost a growl, which only made his legs tremble more.
The sight of the hottest being he’d ever seen completely surrendered to him left him ecstatic.
Wonbin couldn’t define it. The gentle actions of someone who genuinely cared, the flawless appearance, it all made his heart pound loudly against his ribs. It was a mixture of feelings he couldn’t describe, except for a possessiveness that screamed for him to make this man his.
He had been wrong earlier. He was faced with a nine out of ten.
His erect member throbbed again.
"Anton." Wonbin lost himself, guided by the firm hands, and moved with more confidence.
The other's eyes closed and a sharp hiss emerged, encouraging him to repeat the motion until he managed to find a slow rhythm, rising until only the tip remained inside, and sinking again in a fluid movement.
He rested his hands on Anton’s chest, his head thrown back as waves of pleasure distracted him from the lingering discomfort.
"Yes!" A lost moan escaped.
The sense of urgency made him ensure that every thrust hit his sensitive spot dead-on, until he saw stars.
He leaned forward, his body curved easily thanks to his physical conditioning, and his mouth hovered just above the other man's. The scent that Anton emanated, sweat mixed with the amber, completely intoxicated him.
"What do you think of the view?" A faint laugh, followed by a sharp moan, was practically ripped from his parted lips.
Wonbin was destroyed. Hair stuck to his forehead, like a dark curtain.
He moved with more force and desperation, as if his life depended on it, chasing the visceral pleasure that made his thighs tremble.
"Perfect." Anton’s dark eyes filled with lust, observing him with ultra-patience, encouraging him with his hands before lifting his hips to meet the thrusts.
Wonbin rolled his eyes and screamed. One of his hands finally moved to stroke himself at the same speed as his movements, but a mocking laugh he heard made him turn his face to confront the amused being below.
"Having fun, prince?" Something about the affectionate voice and that damn wide smile brought back the feeling from minutes ago.
‘Mine, mine, mine.’ A possessiveness that practically blinded him.
Wonbin couldn’t answer, because he was becoming increasingly overwhelmed, and the only sounds escaping his mouth were whimpers and groans, but he shook his head repeatedly with his lower lip trapped between his teeth.
With a sudden move, he closed the distance between them, kissing and nibbling Anton’s soft mouth.
The move drove the member inside him deeper, to the point where his vision blurred from the sensation. His suffocated groan was swallowed in the midst of the hungry kiss.
Wonbin was close to the climax, and the other seemed to know it, as he broke the kiss to thrust harder.
"Are you going to come, Hyung?" In one powerful, perfectly timed motion, Anton drove in with a thud that knocked the air out of both their lungs. The new, devastating angle struck his prostate again and again until his whole body convulsed. A hoarse scream tore from deep within him. "Come for me, Hyung. But don’t forget that it will be my turn to have fun next."
The other didn't take long to take control. His powerful thighs grounded him, as he set a brutal, punishing rhythm, driving into Wonbin's tight, suffocating heat like a madman. He could do nothing but take the full length. His hands spread flat on the expanse of the muscular chest, and his head thrown back as the sensations hit him.
The abrupt, frantic slapping of skin against skin, the irregular symphony of their breaths, and the creaking of the hotel bed echoed through the room.
"Look at you." Anton said, his voice raw, control gradually slipping away, along with the hoarse groan he released. "God, you take me so well... So perfect... So tight."
The reverent praise went straight to his head, more potent than any drug could be. It stoked the reckless fire in his veins, the hidden desire for words of validation.
He forced his eyes open, meeting the man's burning gaze, who then swiveled his hips in a practiced motion, one made just to extract a new, desperate scream from him.
"God... Anton!…" That was enough for Wonbin to shatter. His body beautifully arching, as he stammered several nonsensical pleas and lost curses. His semen spilled onto his hand, which was focused on frantic masturbation.
And then, a devastating orgasm slammed into him, so strong he felt as if his body had disintegrated and remade itself. All he could do was groan and whimper until he practically passed out on top of the other man.
Anton smoothed and kissed the top of his sweaty head, in a gesture of pure affection. He covered Wonbin with compliments as the dancer lay powerless, recovering from the tremendous pleasure that had claimed him moments ago.
"Was that..." His voice was nothing more than a gasping whisper, the words coming out in uneven bursts of effort to breathe. Still, a faint, mocking smile appeared. "Is that the kind of performance that... you appreciate?"
He could feel the member pulsing inside his tight walls. And, although exhausted, the mere glimpse of Anton going crazy and fucking him like there was no tomorrow led him to lick his lips in anticipation.
"Didn’t you say you were going to have fun?" Wonbin goaded him on purpose, tightening around him until the other man released a suffocated groan and squeezed his slim waist hard. "Come on... Use me."
He didn't need to say anything else before he was spun around in a matter of seconds. His back hit the messy bed as Anton held his thighs, pulled him out, and thrust in quickly. It was so accurate and deep, hitting his sensitive prostate with every pump, that a shriek left his mouth and his body arched like a beautiful object on display.
A needy roar from the man on top of him, lost in his own bubble of pleasure, acting like one possessed, made him tremble.
"Anton," Wonbin whimpered, spent. His eyes widened, and his short nails dug into the younger man's arms to vent the pain of overstimulation. In response, the other's mouth found his throat, and then lips, teeth, and tongue abused his pale skin just as they had earlier. A true vampire.
"Fuck. You needed to have seen yourself earlier." Anton grunted, not stopping the relentless rhythm, and descended to suck a mark onto one of his collarbones. He screamed and tangled his fingers in the messy strands when the attention dropped to one of his sensitive nipples. "All powerful and perfect on top of me."
"I would give you the whole world if you asked me that way... Would you like that, Hyung?" Wonbin arched his back again in a perfect curve, his voice hoarse after a series of screams. His spent member swayed with the potent thrusts, and the painful, delicious stimulation made him erect again.
"Anton... Anton..." It escaped his lips like a prayer, and the man moaned hoarsely in his ear.
"That's it... Say my name." His thighs, too, would have red handprints the next day, thanks to the force and possessiveness with which they were held. And, despite being inebriated, he still found a corner in his memory to be excited by that possibility.
"Shit, Hyung."
Anton didn’t last long. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside and came into the condom. His mouth found Wonbin’s neck again for a last, claiming bite that left a sharp sting, while a relentless hand worked his aching length to draw out every drop.
"I—... Anton! Oh, God—..." Wonbin truly lost himself. His mind blanked, tears of pleasure streamed non-stop from his eyes as he came apart for the second time over his stomach.
Like a delicious dream, the next thing he noticed was the other man collapsing on top of his exhausted body before the temporal vacuum hit him.
…
Minutes passed, and he didn’t even notice.
When he opened his eyes again, Anton was staring at him with a silent devotion, brushing the sweaty strands from his face just to admire him better.
The post-sex glow made an already beautiful figure seem even more unreal. Wonbin tried, but couldn’t hide the embarrassment of being seen so vulnerable and at ease. Redness spread across his cheeks and ears.
Anton kissed the tip of his nose with a tired, satisfied smile, as if he could guess his embarrassment. That was until a airy laugh slipped out and an eyebrow rose at the bold suggestion he’d just made.
"Another round?"
…
Oh, shit. Another? He was lost.
It was likely he’d barely be able to walk properly the next day, yet, for some reason, he didn’t feel the slightest urge to refuse or pretend he wasn’t excited by the possibility.
The thought of going home spent and sated, after all the stressful months, seemed far too pleasant to waste. The pain would be nothing more than a sweet reminder of the hottest man he’d ever met, comforting just like the days when ballet training made every muscle throb from effort.
"Give me a few minutes and a shower, and I can think about your case." Then, instead of refusing, Wonbin laughed hoarsely and buried his fingers in the younger man’s messy hair.
XxX
Anton started daydreaming after the fateful encounter with Park Wonbin.
There wasn’t a single night when he didn’t think about the way their mouths fit together, the melodious sounds of their moans, and the pleasure that overtook him when the velvet interior enveloped him… Remembering it brought him to the edge of collapse, like a teenager going through puberty.
And, in the end, that wasn’t even the biggest problem, although the mere recollection of Wonbin on top of him, in full splendor, riding him, made him hard regardless of where he was.
The real danger lay in the reaction of his fragile, excited emotions.
Anton hadn’t gone to the blind date with any intention other than having fun, at first. However, the moment he realized he had been paired with one of the most ethereal beings he had ever seen, he knew that putting the motto ‘don’t get attached’ into practice would be impossible.
When he stepped into the coffee shop and looked at Wonbin’s perfect face, something, a sort of magnetic field, pulled him in with no chance of turning back. There was no way to forget him. In such a short time, the young dancer had carved out his own corner in his memory.
It must have been what people called love at first sight. He didn’t believe in such things, but he needed to see the older man again to satisfy this urge.
He hadn’t lied when he revealed, at the height of pleasure, that he could give Wonbin anything he asked. And, even while trying to rationalize how absurd it was to fall in love so quickly with a stranger, he had grown tired of fighting it over the past few days.
Anton was utterly lost, daydreaming. Fantasizing about a scenario that, perhaps, would only happen again in his dreams.
He should be realistic.
…
His eyes rested on the spreadsheet frozen on his laptop before he let out an irritated sigh.
Nothing held his attention.
It shifted instead to the dark aesthetic of his office, with its mahogany floors and ornate walls, bookshelves filled with books, fabrics, and mannequin torsos dressed in formal wear.
He was in the only tailoring shop, which was set to open in Gangnam, that had a habitable section for the time being. That’s why he had made it his temporary workplace.
Anton was born into a family so wealthy that their total assets couldn’t even be measured. The heir to an international bank, at twenty-three, he decided to create his own brand as soon as he graduated from college.
Now, a year after its founding, 'Le Rivière' was walking the flower road with the help of his two friends and partners, Eunseok and Sungchan. And, since the former wanted to reestablish himself in Korea, the three had spent the past few months evaluating statistics and risks of the local men’s tailoring market before finally deciding to expand the brand to the country.
Seoul, in particular, had high demand for suits due to formal employment, making it a promising market despite the competition. Anton was absolutely certain they could stand out, especially through importing fabrics and tailoring techniques from Italy, France, and Britain.
He looked again at the spreadsheet the civil engineer had sent, showing the additional costs of the stores they were opening, something he should have reviewed instead of thinking about Park Wonbin and losing focus, and decided to forward it to Eunseok, who occupied the room next door. His unlocked phone, on a contact saved just a week ago from the blind date, caught his attention, although he didn’t have the courage to send a message.
Of course, it was only a matter of seconds before his friend appeared at the door, arms crossed.
"What's wrong with you? You’ve been in la-la land since last weekend." Eunseok said, staring at him with a puzzled expression before it shifted into a teasing smirk. "Since the day you went on that blind date."
The older one was very intelligent, so it didn’t take long to put the pieces together. The mocking laugh that followed made Anton sigh and roll his eyes, already anticipating the teasing.
"Chanyoung, I told you to go out and have fun, not to fall in love with a stranger. Was he really that handsome?" You have no idea. His mind mocked, as Eunseok walked to his desk and sat in one of the chairs.
Instead of answering the curious question, Anton simply locked his phone and leaned back in his leather chair. His face frowned as he remembered something that had amazed him since the end of the date.
"Hyung, do I, by any chance, look poor? I mean, do I seem like I don’t have money to you?" It sounded absurd said out loud. He himself barely believed it, until he realized that Wonbin wasn’t joking.
…
He really thought he was ‘poor’, even after seeing his car, an imported convertible.
Anton even tried to deny it when he dropped Wonbin off at home, but the dancer didn’t believe him.
(…) Alright. I know you have a good job, but there’s no need to exaggerate.(…)
He didn’t know what to say because he had no idea how he could prove it, or if it was even necessary. In his twenty-four years of life, his social status had never been questioned.
People only inferred it from the way he carried himself, his speech, accent, expensive clothes, and, above all, material possessions like his car…
Eunseok paused for a few seconds, then twisted his face and laughed loudly.
"You’re the richest person I know. Even among strangers, you’d still be the least poor of them all. What kind of question is that?" He also thought the same until his own social class was doubted by Wonbin.
(…) Well, rich people wouldn’t go on a blind date in a place like this. (…)
…Anton hadn’t cared about the venue when he accepted, since the dancer had chosen it. Besides, Eunseok had told him to have fun.
"Hyung, he thinks I’m 'poor.'" It sounded so absurd that he couldn’t even take seriously what he was saying. One hand covered his face from embarrassment he had never felt before.
Instead of making him angry or outraged, this innocent ‘audacity’ of Wonbin only made him look cuter in his eyes.
"Is that for real?" Eunseok didn’t believe him until Anton silently shook his head. "What kind of clothes were you wearing?"
‘What kind of clothes?’… Of course, the other would think it was his fault.
The tone of comic horror made him snort.
"Normal?" Anton scoffed, incredulous. "Hyung, I wouldn’t go on a date dressed like a lunatic… He just… didn’t want to believe that I have money. At first, I thought it was a joke, so when we got to my car, I said the company I worked for lent it. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously or not believe me after I tried explaining."
His voice was an embarrassed whisper, which faded as Eunseok burst into laughter.
"'The company you worked for.' I can’t believe this." He turned red as a tomato, eyes darting around the room while the older one couldn’t stop laughing, one hand on his stomach trying to stabilize himself. "Damn, Sungchan needs to know this."
Oh, no.
"Hyung, don’t tell him." The one who had stayed in Europe to manage the headquarters and other branches would tease him to death if he found out, Anton whimpered.
He could already imagine the jokes.
"Look on the bright side: at least he’s not gold-digging." Eunseok must have thought he was hilarious for that comment, but all Anton did was snort. That was exactly why he hadn’t told him about the date before. The older one got up and headed for the door. "So, did you call him or send a message after?"
…
"Not yet." Anton sighed tiredly and glanced at the locked phone. Wonbin had mentioned that he didn’t want a serious relationship on the way to the hotel. Also, he didn’t want to seem so desperate.
"Do it before he forgets you." His friend rolled his eyes, shaking his head in denial. "We both know that’s what you want, otherwise you wouldn’t have acted like a lovesick fool all week."
Anton opened his mouth to argue, but the older one was right. In the end, he just needed someone to push him to take action. That way, if he got a ‘no’, the guilt wouldn’t be so strong.
"And, after you do it, check the spreadsheet the civil engineer sent by himself. Don’t dump more work on me just because you’re in love."
Eunseok pointed to his open laptop, turned, and slammed the door without giving him time to say anything.
Anton would have responded somehow if his fingers hadn’t acted on their own, opening the message box and Wonbin’s saved contact, typing before any pessimistic thought could make him regret it.
XxX
"Where’s he planning to take you?"
Shotaro's confused voice sounded distant in the background, scrutinizing every piece he discarded with a lost expression.
It was strange that Wonbin, out of nowhere, had run to his room and pulled his wardrobe apart, searching for the supposed perfect outfit to meet a one-night stand.
…
Honestly, he himself didn’t understand why he was so desperate. After all, it was supposed to be just sex and nothing more. Yet he couldn’t fool himself or pretend he wasn’t excited; His actions were almost those of a teenager about to see his crush.
It was… embarrassing. Not even in high school had Wonbin acted so ridiculously.
In fact, he had rejected countless boys back then, focusing on solidifying his ballet career.
"To the Leeum Museum." His face emerged from inside the wardrobe suddenly, startling Osaki with the abruptness. Besides having no idea what to wear, his hair looked like a mess, greasy from sweat thanks to earlier training.
There was no time to lose.
His head returned to the pile of shirts, searching for pieces and ignoring the astonished noise Shotaro let out.
"Do you even like art? Whenever I invited you to go, you refused."
Of course, he didn’t. He didn’t understand a thing about it. But the moment Anton asked him where he wanted to go, he tried not to seem desperate and told him to decide on his own.
"I don’t like it. But… he probably does, I don’t know, so I agreed. I didn’t choose the place." Wonbin tangled his words and huffed, frustrated.
An involuntary pout formed on his lips, and Shotaro laughed with immense delight, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
He just wanted to see Anton again, maybe kiss a little, and smell the addictive amber cologne… He convinced himself there was no attachment. Spending the last week fantasizing about that man's possessive touches on his waist and the feeling of being on cloud nine when he looked at him as if he could give him the world was nothing more than a mere sensory memory from their hotel room encounter.
…
Wonbin would never admit it, but Anton not contacting him for several days left him somewhat disappointed, especially since the other hadn’t even bothered to send an ‘I had fun.’
He waited for the message like an idiot. Not because he needed it to validate his performance during sex, the way the man praised him had proven that, but because he considered it the bare minimum of courtesy.
It hadn’t happened with the clerk at the corner convenience store; that guy was so infatuated he flooded his inbox until Wonbin had no choice but to block him. Still, there existed an imagined hierarchy that Anton had completely disregarded with his colossal delay.
For that reason, Wonbin had ignored him on purpose yesterday afternoon, when the bastard finally had the nerve to message him.
He planned to respond only after a few days, to avoid showing he was anxious or anything like that, but all determination vanished the moment he saw the notification tab.
‘I'm sorry for taking so long to get in touch. I’ve been busy.’
…
Wonbin grabbed a denim jacket, evaluated its state, and threw it to the floor in frustration.
"You’re in love. That’s so cute, Bin." Shotaro returned from the kitchen with the coffee cup he had forgotten.
“My god… of course not!" Even though the indignant shout was genuine, his ears still flushed red, but there was no time to argue. "Hyung, what kind of clothes do people wear to museums?"
He jerked his head out from the wardrobe, staring at the older man’s confused face with wide, worried eyes.
"Hm." Osaki raised his free hand to his chin, pondering. "Comfortable clothes. At least, that’s what I wore last time I stepped into one."
Well, Shotaro had a nice street style, but it was completely opposite to his own. Wearing a tracksuit would make him look ridiculous.
"No way." Wonbin whined and grabbed the black tailored pants he found. "I’ll look like a beggar next to him."
"Why?" His friend frowned. "Bin, nothing looks bad on you."
Not now. The attempt at a moral lesson made him grumble, with no patience to hear motivational words at the moment.
Wonbin tossed the black pants he had chosen onto the empty part of the bed and sighed.
"It’s not that, Hyung. He’ll probably be dressed to perfection. I don’t want to look ‘messy.’" Shotaro wouldn’t understand unless he saw for himself the type of clothes Anton usually wore on casual dates.
Besides, the man had said he’d come straight from work to pick him up. Since he was the manager of a men’s tailoring store, Wonbin could already picture the impeccable look that would greet him.
"Don’t go overdressed, or you’ll stand out too much." Shotaro commented as he saw him take out a designer scarf and then a black branded jacket.
"Forget it. You don’t understand how he is." Wonbin ignored him, more focused on putting together the outfit on the bed, until the Japanese man let out a devilish laugh.
"Should I come down to meet him with you?"
…
"Don’t even think about it." Just imagining having to introduce Shotaro to Anton sent shivers down his spine. His reprimand was categorical while the older man enjoyed himself.
Again, his ears flushed a deep crimson, eyes darting in embarrassment to a corner of the messy room.
No, no, no. Osaki would embarrass him to death. He would never have the courage to face the man who was about to take him out.
Shotaro laughed.
"You’re possessive, Wonbin? What kind of prince are you hiding?" Oh, you have no idea, his mind mocked. He made a small grimace, and the Japanese man quickly apologized. "Okay, sorry. I promise I won’t tease you… Let me help you."
He wasn’t in a position to refuse help, so he decided to let it slide with a sigh.
"Ok. I’ll take a shower." Wonbin had somewhat decided what he would wear, though he could only find out if the combination worked once he put it on.
A thought of self-sabotage suddenly appeared as he grabbed a clean pair of underwear from the wardrobe and the towel from the hook behind the door.
‘What if he’s a little disappointed that we won’t have sex? What if the invitation was just polite?’ The questions came unfiltered as he rushed to shower.
"Hey! Be careful not to fall!" Shotaro shouted, his warning echoing after the bathroom door closed.
…
Oh, damn.
The first thing Wonbin had blurted out when Anton asked him out was that they couldn’t have sex because he had ballet training the next day, but contrary to what he expected, the man agreed, saying he wanted to see him no matter what.
It would have seemed quite romantic if he were used to this type of guy, instead of being a natural collector of one-night stands.
Obviously, it had the opposite effect: it scared him. And once the anxiety over picking an outfit passed, a secret current of insecurity hit him.
…Suddenly, he felt a little afraid he wouldn’t measure up.
His heart raced, yet Wonbin did his best to ignore it as he washed his hair.
"There's a specific piece I’d like to show you." Anton led him, smiling brightly, while Wonbin looked around at the endless array of paintings and sculptures with the innocent curiosity of someone visiting a place like this for the first time.
It was new, yes, but not exactly bad. His companion had an enviable patience and a way of explaining things that didn’t make him feel like an idiot for knowing nothing about art.
"Have you been here before?" Wonbin’s voice came out low, partly because of the size of the place and the number of visitors. He walked slowly, a little behind, holding the edge of Anton’s coat, since they were in public and it wouldn’t be ideal to appear as though ‘they were together’.
Not that they were, Korea wasn’t exactly the friendliest country when it came to same-sex couples… He spent a few anxious seconds, as soon as they entered the museum, trying to decide the ‘least awkward’ way to behave, until a hand instinctively found the edge of the other’s garment. The younger man only smiled in response, paying it no mind, and guided him through the exhibits.
Since then, they had settled into a slow pace, enough to appreciate a few pieces along the way.
"Actually, no. But since my family is very involved in art and culture, I had a few recommendations to visit this museum while I was in Korea. My mother is an avid collector of art and designer furniture." Okay, the revelation surprised him a little. Wonbin caught Anton’s subtle side smile and tried to figure out what it might mean. "Especially modernist furniture with Bauhaus influence. She loves decorating our home in her free time."
…
Bauhaus?… What?…
His mind twisted itself in knots before a quiet, incredulous laugh slipped out.
In his head, only eccentric rich people collected art and expensive items.
Anton’s family must be extremely cultured to know so much about this.
‘University professors or professionals in the art world.’ His subconscious concluded.
"Well, my mother is a teacher at a preschool. She enjoys Pilates and going with my father to alternative rock shows. I guess it’s not as glamorous as yours." If she heard him, Wonbin would probably be grounded. The mere thought made him laugh. Anton joined in, turning to look at him with eyes shining in silent admiration.
Shotaro had been right. He didn’t even want to think about sharing this man.
‘Possessiveness.’ It was the first time he had felt this way about someone. An unfamiliar chill settled in his stomach.
He was thankful that the museum had a dark atmosphere, designed to enhance immersion and highlight the art, as it kept the redness on his face from being visible.
"She must be as beautiful as you." Anton then made a sincere comment, almost dreamlike, enough for an ironic smile to grow on his lips.
"She is," Wonbin nodded before laughing again. "But, just so you know, people say I look much more like my father."
For a moment, he closed his eyes to focus on inhaling the addictive essence of amber in the air, which reached his nose even from the comfortable distance between their bodies. The faint noise of other visitors only made the scent linger more vividly in his memory.
…
Wonbin was grateful he hadn’t listened to Shotaro’s recommendations or changed his clothes when he left his apartment and saw the impeccable figure across the street.
Anton looked exactly as he had imagined: a navy polo shirt, black tailored pants, and a coat. Elegant, like royalty.
The strong perfume enveloped him all the way to the museum, even though he had also worn a heavy musk cologne, which lingered throughout the visit.
Wonbin was going to get spoiled.
"Hyung, do you still think I’m poor or something?" Anton’s sudden question snapped him back to reality. His eyes opened again to face the other’s uncertain expression as he bit his lower lip.
Cute.
At first, it made him laugh loudly before sighing and leaning closer so their faces could align despite the clear height difference.
"I never said you were poor. Between us, you clearly have the better financial situation." Wonbin defended himself, not realizing he had left the younger man confused; after all, the joke about a fictional multimillionaire was only meant to lighten the mood on their first meeting. He continued, smiling calmly. "I just said there’s a big difference between being truly rich and being well-off, and that you don’t have to pretend to impress me."
Anton raised an eyebrow in surprise before letting out a soft laugh.
"Well, what if I were truly rich? Would you still have agreed to come here with me?" It sounded playful, given the amused tone, but the intense look he received confused him a little.
It was raw insecurity, masked, which, honestly, made a lot of sense.
"If you were truly rich, you wouldn’t have gone on a blind date, let alone invited someone without money like me out again. Besides, I’m not a sugar baby. I don’t need your money, even if you offered." Wonbin reassured him. All he wanted from this man was to be kissed and adored like last time. But they were in a public space, so that wouldn’t be possible. A pout almost formed on his lips, if he hadn’t made a new joke to cover it up. "So, you can stop pretending to be rich."
For some reason, Anton blushed. The embarrassment was so obvious that Wonbin noticed it even in the museum’s dim light. Yet it didn’t last long. A quiet gleam reached his dark eyes as one hand lifted, about to hold his waist.
"You’re unbelievable." The wide, painfully perfect smile almost made him sigh.
Wonbin stepped back with the precision of a master, because there were more people around and he wouldn’t trust his own self-control if such a sensitive part of his body were stimulated so innocently.
"Hey, behave." Anton whined like a big puppy at the slap he received on his outstretched arm, causing him to roll his eyes and huff. "Didn’t you say you wanted to show me a painting? Where is it?"
That was enough to bring him back to the present and realize they weren't alone to be acting like a pervert.
"Huh, sorry. I got distracted by your beauty." It was a terrible flirt, which even made him scrunch his face in annoyance.
"Ah, shut up."
Anton laughed anyway and walked a bit faster, forcing Wonbin to hold onto the edge of his coat again.
"Later, or tomorrow, text me what foods are in your diet." The comment caught him off guard, and the other didn’t even turn to face him as he calmly moved through the crowd.
"Why?" A knot formed in his mind for a brief moment.
"I don’t know. In case I want to take you out to eat in the future."
…
Oh.
A nine out of ten? He’d really sold him short… This man was definitely a ten out of ten.
Wonbin’s eyes widened, shocked.
His heart beat fast. So loudly, he feared everyone could hear it.
He had turned into a hormonal teenager… Damn… He was going to lose it.
"I’ll think about it." The words slipped out before he could stop himself, stammered, a little softer than usual.
XxX
Don't forget to put a little ointment on afterward
And if it gets worse, please see a doctor
I spent the whole day worrying about you, mon chaton
I'm tough, you know?
Besides, it's not the first time I've had a small accident in ballet
It's just a big bruise on my arm, not a broken bone
...
And stop calling me that
It's way too cheesy, even for you
Are you going to forbid me from worrying about you, Hyung?
And should I stop? Really?
I think you actually like the nickname
The other day, I saw the smile you made when you heard me call you that
Are you crazy?
I didn’t smile because of that nickname
You’re reaching
Is that so?
Well, I really like using that nickname
It fits you incredibly well, Hyung
So, deal with it
I don’t even know what it means, you idiot!
Look it up on Naver
Naver?? Seriously??
Oh my God, you’re ridiculous
Wonbin cursed the idiot’s entire bloodline, but his fingers were too quick, opening a new tab on his phone’s browser, more intrigued than he wanted to admit. In the background, the drama he was watching with Shotaro on the living room TV reverberated. His friend was too caught up in the show to notice him fidgeting beside him while typing the words into Naver.
The result shocked him more than it should have.
NAVER
what does mon chaton mean
mon chaton meaning in french
AI explanation
“Mon chaton” literally means “my kitten” in French. It is used as an affectionate nickname — similar to “sweetheart” or “baby.”
Example: Viens ici, mon chaton.
→ Come here, my kitten.
Source: informal French endearment expression
‘My kitten.’ Embarrassment washed over him from head to toe, making his knees buckle as he buried his face in his arms to hide.
Great. He had somehow managed to regress into late adolescence… The mere thought mortified him, his eyes wide and a fresh wave of anger rising.
For a moment, he wanted to call Anton and unleash every insult he knew.
"You're smiling like a maniac, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because of that poor guy who got kicked out of the house." Shotaro finally noticed his state, mocking him in a way that only worsened the embarrassment.
"Hyung, look what he called me," Wonbin held his phone up to the other’s face with a pitiful whine. "I… Am I really acting like a dumb teenager now? I can’t believe I’ve gone back to the most embarrassing period of my life."
While he host in self-deprecation, Osaki blinked a few times to adjust to the phone’s bright screen, read the description, and covered his face in surprise as well.
"Wow." That was the first thing he said, still recovering from the shock, until a soft laugh escaped. "You didn’t turn back into a teenager, Bin. You’re just really in love, and that’s so cute… I mean, I’ve never seen you interested in someone like this in all the years we’ve known each other."
The words should have been comforting, but instead, they only made him more restless.
"Oh my God, I’m so freaking scared." Wonbin buried his face between his legs again.
He had never been in love and, at first, didn’t think this would be the case. Just sex, that’s what his brain kept looping.
Even when Anton made his heart race uncontrollably, or when he spent entire nights fantasizing about all the intense touches they shared, he still rejected the possibility.
But in the past few days, reality was sinking in. The urge to have the younger man around twenty-four hours a day, all week, was more than he could tolerate.
It didn’t seem like a good sign…
Wonbin whimpered.
"This is normal. It’s the first time you’ve been with someone with intentions beyond just sex." Shotaro, as always, brought the voice of wisdom, the only one he still listened to.
He felt a comforting squeeze on his knee.
"Listen, Bin. I think you’re more than right to let yourself experience this. He seems like a good guy. Plus, he’s doing everything for you." Yes, in this point, the older one had a point. Anton had told him several times he’d give him anything he asked for. Maybe that was the biggest problem: being spoiled without limits.
Wonbin was the youngest in his family, meaning he only ever received attention and treats from relatives… Even when he came out as gay, his father couldn’t stay 'angry' for long. In fact, the anger lasted only two weeks, because he didn’t hesitate to call him over breakfast to say, ‘You’re still my youngest little boy’ with a stern face followed by a quick pat on the top of the head, similar to the habit Anton had developed. The height difference between them made it even easier.
His eyes almost closed from the slow massages of the large fingers on his scalp… An area he hated being touched by others, yet somehow allowed this barely-known man to explore it without complaint.
Considering these factors, the extra attention Wonbin had been receiving lately was probably the main reason he found himself in this situation.
He could no longer deny being a little attached, but that didn’t mean he had to tell the other person.
"Let me meet him next time," Shotaro’s teasing made him lift his head and frown.
"Fuck no. Not a chance." Wonbin felt like a possessive dog owner. He wasn’t ready to share yet.
"If you don’t introduce us, the next time he’s here, I’ll just go talk to him myself, tell him to take good care of you." One of the few times Osaki was serious. Like a protective mother bear, his forehead furrowed in a scowl.
Still, a grumpy refusal escaped Wonbin’s pursed lips.
"For God’s sake, Hyung. I’m not some helpless little boy. Stop it." His hands ran over his face, trying to hide the unprecedented embarrassment.
In the background, Shotaro’s loud laughter echoed.