Work Text:
Starts with a spark, then it's a wildfire
Burning me up, burning me up
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Seonghwa had wanted to be a firefighter since he was a young child. The idea of saving burning buildings and people’s belongings, rescuing trapped victims and animals, and restoring the community made the grueling tasks all worth it. He was more than content with his job.
Until the day everything changed.
There was a head on collision on the highway. A drunk driver had hit a young woman dead center and flipped her car, pinning her inside.
You were that woman.
You were trapped in the vehicle and needed extracting. You tried not to panic, but the idea of being permanently stuck had you hyperventilating. You could feel a piece of metal that was deeply embedded in your left leg but couldn’t tell if it was bleeding. The pain was excruciating.
Seonghwa coached your breathing, helping you to calm down. His round boba eyes and soft velvet voice lulled you into a sense of security. He even gave you medicine to take the edge off the pain.
No one noticed the damaged fuel line.
Not until it was too late.
Seonghwa had been using an electric saw to free the door when the sparks ignited the gasoline. He managed to pull you from the window as the car exploded, tearing your leg through metal in the process. The explosion slung petroleum and oil skyward, coating both of you in various places. You were quickly extinguished but the damage was done. The aramid fibers of Seonghwa’s suit had already been burned through.
You weren’t lucky to even have that little bit of protection.
You were both life-lighted from the scene via helicopter and taken to the nearest burn unit. You both promptly were taken back for surgery so that your burns could be debrided and treated. Your leg had to be repaired for a deep laceration and break. Once woken from your first surgery, you found it would be one of many.
You would both require skin grafts.
Though he had saved your life, Seonghwa refused to see you. You made multiple efforts to meet the man and thank him, but he rebuffed your every attempt.
You didn’t give up.
Hindsight, you should have.
You were present for every surgery. There you met his friends. From them you learned about the man who had pulled you from a fiery fate. You listened intently as they shared stories of their lives together, sharing more than Seonghwa would probably be comfortable with.
You soon found yourself sharing tidbits of your own life, letting the four men-Hongjoong, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung-around you into your inner circle. It wasn’t easy, but they didn’t pity you. That meant more than you could have imagined.
Hongjoong had flown in from Colorado to stay with his friend, even though he was in the middle of renovating and running a ski lodge in Denver. His best friend needed him around.
Yeosang was an art acquisitionist at the art museum not far from your apartment. He helped keep an eye on his friend’s treatments. He also had a penchant for pickling foods and selling them.
San owned a food truck, and was currently trying to find the best permanent location in the city. St. Louis wasn’t making it an easy task. He had a fiery sense of humor and dimples when he laughed.
Then there was Wooyoung. He was far more mysterious. You knew he vaguely worked at a company, and not much else. He was extremely funny, though. He was often there to cheer you up when Hongjoong wasn’t.
WooSan often had you in stitches.
These were the men that were helping sew Seonghwa whole.
Hongjoong sat next to Seonghwa’s bed as he roused from his third grafting surgery. A bouquet of lilies sat on his side table. He eyed them with mild interest until Hongjoong realized he was awake.
“She’s here,” Hongjoong informed him, as though he didn’t already know. Seonghwa looked away from the flowers.
“I don’t want to see her, Joong,” his voice was low and gruff from intubation. Hongjoong handed him his water, helping him to take a steady sip. He then placed it back on the side table.
You heard him from outside the door and made your way down the hallway. You took a seat and waited for Hongjoong.
“You will have to get over yourself and see her one of these days, Hwa,” Hongjoong chastised. Seonghwa hit his call light, then closed his eyes with a sigh.
“I failed her, Joong. I can’t face her.”
“You saved her life,” Hongjoong countered, sounding slightly irritated. “That’s how she sees it. It’s how everyone sees it.”
Seonghwa wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Despite what the media had posted about him he didn’t feel like a hero. A hero would have smelled the petroleum long before it was a problem. Seonghwa was too cocky and got carried away. He never should have used the electric saw. Had he used the jaws of life, you both would probably be in better shape.
Just maybe.
But what ifs didn’t matter. Not anymore.
A nurse entered the room and Seonghwa requested something for pain. Hongjoong waited until Seonghwa was in a morphine slumber before he met you in the hallway. He gave you a small shake of his head. You handed him a fresh cup of coffee.
“I heard,” you said, sounding slightly sad. You were used to the rejection at this point. But still, your heart ached with every denial.
“Give him time,” Hongjoong patted your thigh. You gave him a small smile and took a swig of your coffee. “When’s your next surgery?”
“Next week. September 4th,” you answered. You were nervous even though it was becoming routine. “They’re replacing the rod in my leg with titanium and doing more grafts.”
“Shoot me the details and I will be there.”
You gave Hongjoong another small smile. If nothing else had come from your personal tragedy, new friendships had.
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Seonghwa was back to work within two weeks. While he was unable to work in the field, he was able to direct calls, type up incident reports, and load inventory onto firetrucks. It made him feel somewhat useful.
The days he didn’t work the firehouse, he picked up extra shifts at the local crematorium.
Anything to offset medical costs.
He was mid-incident report when his Fire Chief stepped into his office.
“Got a minute, Park?” he asked, taking a seat across from him. Seonghwa nodded and turned from his computer.
“You know the annual firefighter calendar shoot is coming up,” he began. “I was hoping you would participate again.”
Last year Seonghwa had been Mr. November. He caused quite the flurry amongst the community for his good looks. Many people referred to him as Mr. November when they saw him in public around St. Louis. It always brought a smile to his face.
“Of course,” Seonghwa readily agreed. He hoped this year he would be Mr. April for his birthday.
“Fantastic!” his Chief exclaimed. “I will email you the details shortly.”
With that his boss left his office. Seonghwa returned to the incident report in a good mood. It was quickly soured when he read the calendar shoot details.
“2026 Fire Fighter Calendar: Meet our Heroes & their Survivors.”
He knew immediately who they would choose to photograph with him. You had both been on national news. It would only make sense for it to be you.
He had avoided you for this long. Now he would have to face you.
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You received a call from the local Fire Chief around noon. You had just finished working on your latest chapter of your manuscript regarding artificial grafting options when your cell phone rang.
“Hi, Chief,” you answered, having had his number programmed into your phone. “What can I do for you?”
“The annual firefighter’s calendar is coming up,” he began hesitantly. “The theme this year is heroes and their survivors.”
You felt your heart plummet in your chest. You knew what he would ask of you next.
“Please be a part of this with firefighter Park.”
You exhaled through your nose. The man who didn’t even want to meet you was supposed to do a photoshoot with you.
“Has Seonghwa agreed to this?” you asked, pretty sure you already knew the answer.
“He has.”
You froze, taken aback. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“I will on one condition,” you finally replied. “I need his phone number.”
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You: Are you sure about this, Seonghwa?
Seonghwa: I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.
Seonghwa: Are you?
You wrote a reply and deleted it. You wrote another, only to delete that, too. What were you supposed to say? That you were dreading the upcoming photoshoot and would do almost anything to get out of it?
You: See you Saturday.
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The next day, as soon as the Chief was in his office, Seonghwa was hovering outside of his doorway.
“Quit loitering, Park,” his Chief called. Seonghwa entered the office and took a seat.
“I need to back out of participating in the calendar,” he rushed out. His Chief blinked at him, his coffee mug halfway to his mouth.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s just, the community has seen enough of our story. Why not let someone else shine?” It was the best angle he had been able to come up with overnight.
“The popularity of your story is exactly why we need you for sales,” the Chief replied. “Consider it an order.”
Seonghwa let out a heavy sigh.
There was no escaping you now.
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Saturday came way too fast. You barely slept the night before, plagued by your usual nightmare of your wreck. You could still feel the heat of the flames in your dreams, searing your nerve endings.
You quickly showered to rinse the sweat from you, and dressed in a cream sweater and jeans. You slipped into tennis shoes. You forewent jewelry as it often irritated your already raw skin. Curled hair hid the majority of the burns to your neck and face since you had gotten extensions.
This was as good as it was going to get.
Hopping in your Malibu, you made your way across the city to Centennial Farms and Orchard. As you pulled into the parking lot, you saw a cluster of people, presumably other survivors, all waiting for their chance to be photographed. As you sidled up to the Fire Chief, you noticed him talking to one of his firefighters.
He had tanned skin and long, jet black hair that framed his stunning face. Large chocolate brown eyes were animated in the conversation he was having. He was a few inches taller than you, and well built. He wore a blue jumpsuit that was pulled down and tied at his narrow waist. A snug team firefighter shirt stretched across his broad chest.
You would recognize him anywhere.
Seonghwa.
His eyes moved from his Chief and over to you. Surprisingly, his eyes lit up at the sight of you. The Chief stopped talking when he noticed Seonghwa’s attention was elsewhere. He pulled you into an awkward side hug.
“There’s our girl,” the Chief smiled. You returned it, sheepishly. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”
“Me, too,” you answered honestly. Seonghwa gave a small smirk at your admission.
“You kids get acquainted, I have to make rounds.”
The Chief left you standing there alone. You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater.
“Hi,” you said, knowing you sounded awkward.
“After all this time, hello,” Seonghwa reached for one of your fidgeting hands. He brought your knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Your heart skipped a beat.
What happened to the man that actively avoided you?
“You look like you want to run,” he chuckled, releasing your hand.
“That obvious, huh?” you jested back. You did want to run. But not for the reasons he thought.
The mere sight of him had your dead nerve endings on fire in the best way.
You were about to open your mouth to talk to him more, to ask him why he agreed to this charade, when the photographer called out.
“Park and company!”
“That’s us,” Seonghwa said, offering you his arm. You took it, and let him lead you to an orchard on the outskirts of the farm. The photographer posed the pair of you. She kept pushing your hair behind your ear, only for you to flatten it back down. After her third attempt something in you snapped. You pushed your hair back, slid your sleeve up, and hiked your pant leg up as high as it would go.
“Happy now?” you snapped, as most of your burns were on display. Seonghwa quickly straightened your clothes and adjusted your hair.
“Give us a minute,” he ordered to the photographer. She stomped off, grumbling about unruly clients.
You felt your chest tightening, your breathing becoming erratic. Seonghwa took your hands in his, and began slowly inhaling and exhaling.
“Breathe with me,” his voice was low, calm. You mimicked his actions, slowly inhaling and exhaling. You could feel the panic seeping from you. You averted your gaze and dropped his hands. It was just like that day in the car.
You could still smell the gasoline.
“Thank you,” you said through a slow exhale. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“You never need to apologize about that to me,” he answered. Your eyes snapped up to his. His look was one that was sincere, not of pity. Your heart leapt into your throat.
He called the photographer back over. She maneuvered you all into agreeable positions and began snapping shots. Some thirty minutes later she claimed to have all the pictures she needed.
Seonghwa walked you out of the orchard and toward the parking lot. As you turned to say goodbye, he surprised you.
“Have dinner with me.”
You blinked up at him. He had avoided you for months and now he wanted to have dinner.
“Let me prove I’m not a total dick,” he begged. “Especially given how you have been there for me.”
You felt yourself flush. He knew about your presence at his surgeries.
You nodded in reply.
“Does next Saturday at eight work?” he asked. You nodded again, your mouth too dry to speak. He smiled down at you. “I will pick you up then. Just text me your address.”
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You shot Seonghwa your address as soon as you got home, before you could forget or choose to bail. He gave you a thumbs up and surprised you further.
Seonghwa: May I text you throughout the week?
Seonghwa: I would like to get to know you better.
You sent a thumbs up back before you could think better of it.
Seonghwa stayed true to his word, texting you during his lunch break and as soon as he got home from work. He regaled you with stories you had already heard via his friends. You still sent laughing emojis at the appropriate times. You even dared to share pieces of your own life. Seonghwa’s replies made him seem genuinely interested.
On Friday night, like clockwork, he texted you when he got home.
Seonghwa: I should probably leave some stories for our date.
Seonghwa: Otherwise I will be asking about your blood type.
You chuckled to yourself then paused. He had called it a date. Your heart beat wildly in your chest.
The last week had done nothing but feed your desire to better know the man. And it seemed to have lit the same fire within him.
Come Saturday, you woke up nervous as hell. Your roommate flounced into your room, taking a place on your bed as you ravaged through your closet. You had no idea what to wear. He had said “formal attire” but nothing seemed sufficient. Your friend sighed and got up from her spot.
“Go shower, I will find the perfect outfit.”
You pulled your hair up and out of the way, not wanting to bother with drying it. It was clean anyway. You let hot water roll over you as you killed time in anticipation of your date. You quickly shaved and had just done a final rinse when there was a sharp knock at the bathroom door.
“We have work to do. Wrap it up!” your roomie called out. You covered yourself in a fluffy towel and stepped into your room. Steam wafted off your beat red skin like smoke tendrils.
An emerald dress hung on the back of your closet door, along with nylons and a pair of heels.
“Find a nice lingerie set,” your roommate ordered. You shot her a pointed look. “What? You never know how the night might go!”
You did as you were told and pulled out a matching black lace set. You slipped into it and let your hair down. Your friend pulled you over to your make up table and sat you facing the mirror. She quickly began curling your hair.
Once your hair was perfected and pinned out of the way she began painting your face with multiple palettes of makeup. You lightly cringed as she brushed against your damaged skin. When she announced you were finished and removed the pins from your hair, you looked in the mirror.
Your curls perfectly hid your burns, while the light smokey look made you look sun kissed. You gave her a light hug.
“No time for being mushy,” she lectured. “Get the tights on and I will help you into your dress.”
You slid the nylons up and over your damaged flesh. They did a great job of hiding your scars. You internally thanked her for choosing them. She then held out a low cut, green velvet dress with long sleeves that fell to your knees. You slid into the dress and she zipped you up.
“Viola!” she announced, clapping to herself as you stepped into your heels. “Oh! One more thing!”
She disappeared from the room and returned with a diamond necklace in hand. You audibly gasped.
“I can’t wear that! It was your grandmother’s!” you balked. She tsked and swung the piece around your throat. The solitary diamond hung in the middle of your chest.
“Even grandmama would agree that it’s the perfect finishing touch.”
You pulled her into another hug before she shrieked. “We have to set your makeup before it smears!”
She hosed down your face with setting spray. You felt like your face may not move for the entire night. As she spritzed you with perfume there was a knock at your front door.
Your roommate padded down the hallway with you on her heels. She opened the door and assessed the man standing on the other side. Seonghwa stood in silk trousers and a black silk blouse. It was unbuttoned just barely, enough to show off a bit off his chest. He held a bouquet of pale, white roses.
“He will do,” your roommate stated, taking the flowers from him. She let you have a brief sniff of them before heading to the kitchen to put them in a vase. “You kids have fun!”
You had just grabbed your purse and was almost out the door when she called out.
“Wait!”
She slid in front of the door. She looked Seonghwa dead in the eyes. “If you hurt her, well, you can guess. Now have fun!”
With that she shut and locked the door. You blinked at Seonghwa and he laughed.
“Sorry about her,” you apologized. “She can be a bit much.”
“She’s just protective of her friend,” Seonghwa offered. He put out his arm like he had at the park. You linked arms and followed him down the stairs to a waiting Uber.
“I don’t drive if I’ve required pain medication,” he explained.
The trek into town took roughly thirty minutes. You anticipated going somewhere nice, but not to a super upscale expensive rooftop venue.
“Seonghwa,” you breathed out as you pulled up to Extra Wavy. “This really is too much.”
“Nonsense,” he replied and got out of the car. He rounded the vehicle and opened the door for you. You stepped out onto the curb, taking in the building before you. You had only heard about how good their food was. You had never gone because you hated eating alone.
Seonghwa held the door open and stepped up to the hostess. She took his name and immediately took you to a set of elevators. You were taken to the penthouse floor overlooking the city. You were the only people in the room, minus staff. You gasped as you took in the city lights. Seonghwa pressed a glass of champagne into your hand. You took a sip and nearly moaned at the taste.
“I really am okay with pizza,” you said, staring out over the city. Seonghwa watched you and took a sip of his champagne.
“And miss the look on your face right now? Never.”
Your eyes darted back to him as you flushed.
“But I will remember that for next time.”
Your flush deepened. He was already planning for a future time.
The waiter announced that dinner was served, though you hadn’t ordered. Seonghwa pulled a chair out for you and pushed you in, before taking a seat himself.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he started as he lifted the lids off of the food. “I ordered ahead so we wouldn’t have a long wait.”
A dish of crab pasta sat before you. Seonghwa had a plate of pork belly. Together you shared mushroom toast. It was then you remembered him asking your favorite foods during one of your texting sessions.
Of course he could have ordered for you perfectly.
You both ate in mostly silence. Little moans left you as you bit into the food. Before long your plate was empty, your belly almost completely full. Then the waiter returned with a dish of creme brulee. Seonghwa scooped up a hearty portion and held it out to you. You took the spoonful of dessert into your mouth, unintentionally moaning around the spoon.
“Sorry,” you apologized, covering your mouth as you chewed.
“Don't be,” Seonghwa’s voice came out huskier than usual. He fed himself small bites, while continuing to feed you the larger portions. He enjoyed the tiny sounds the flavors pulled from you.
When your dessert was complete, Seonghwa topped off your champagne and led you back out to the balcony. The city glittered like starlight beneath you. As you watched the world pass you by, Seonghwa watched you. He quickly downed his champagne before speaking next.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his hands coming up to toy with one of your curls. You blushed under his observation. “You are beautiful.”
Heat flooded you. You tried to blame it on the alcohol but you knew it was something more innate. A low simmer was starting in your lower belly. One that you knew could get you into trouble.
“Let’s get out of here,” he leaned in and whispered into your ear, seemingly of the same mind. You nodded and threw back the rest of your flute. Seongwha quickly paid and led you outside to another waiting Uber. Once he ushered you inside, he gave the driver directions. His hand found your thigh, his thumb lightly stroking your covered skin. Heat radiated through your nylons as though he was touching your bare flesh.
Feeling bold, you unbuckled yourself. You swung a leg over his hips and straddled him. Your face was mere inches from his.
“Are you okay with this?” your voice was thick with desire. You were praying he would want you.
Seonghwa didn’t answer with words. Instead he cupped your face and brought your lips to his. He tasted of expensive wine and sweet dessert. You whimpered against his lips, your mouth slightly parting to breathe him in. Seonghwa seized the opportunity and licked into your mouth. You pressed against him as his hands moved to your ass, pulling you more firmly against him. You could feel how hard he already was.
The Uber driver cleared his throat and let you know that you had arrived at your destination. You climbed out of the door as Seonghwa paid. He quickly followed you. He adjusted his pants then reached for your wrist. He dragged you into the building as quickly as your heeled feet would allow. Once in the elevators he had you pinned to the wall.
His lips immediately captured yours, his kiss near bruising. His hands came up to thread into your hair, tilting your head just so. You slotted together perfectly. You sighed into his mouth.
The elevator doors opened and Seonghwa led you down a corridor. Stopping before a door, he keyed in a passcode and let you into his apartment. As soon as the door was shut and locked, your back was pressed against the door. Seonghwa’s lips descended upon yours. You slipped out of your heels and dropped your purse to the floor. You intertwined your arms around his neck.
Seonghwa grabbed your thighs and pushed you up the wood behind your back. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He carried you across the room to a dark couch. He sat, taking you down with him. You were straddling his waist once more. His cock felt even harder pressed against your core as your dress rode up.
Seonghwa pulled away minutely.
“Stand,” he ordered, his voice husky. You pulled off his lap and stood before him. Seonghwa pushed your dress up slowly, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of your nylons. He slid them carefully down your legs and onto the floor. Then he pulled you back on to his lap.
Heat radiated off of him as he nipped at the corner of your mouth, making his way to your chin and down to your vast neck. He peppered the column of flesh with kisses as a free hand strayed between your legs. He slid your boy short aside and found you soaking wet. He groaned as his fingers slipped through drenched folds. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, tasting you. His eyes darkened to near black orbs.
Seonghwa reached between you and freed his aching cock from the tightness of his trousers. Once freed, he rubbed his cockhead through your folds, coating himself in your pleasure. You gasped as he brushed against your clit.
Thoroughly coated, he pressed into your core. Using the help of gravity, you sank down onto him. He held you close by the curves of your shoulder blades. You rolled your hips, taking him fully into you, and he groaned out a swear. His hand slithered down your back to your ass. He lifted you off of him, then eased you back down. Then he lifted you again. He helped guide you until you began to bounce on his cock of your own accord.
One hand held onto his shoulder for purchase, the other tangling into his long hair. You pressed your forehead to his, sharing breath as you rode him into the couch. He was thick and long, hitting all the right spots. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, making you see stars again. Your grip on his hair tightened. He pistoned his hips just so that he dragged along the same spot over and over. You whimpered his name, so close to coming undone.
“Come for me,” he breathed into you.
That was all it took. Your orgasm was blinding as it washed over you, whiting out your vision. You cried out his name and tugged on his hair as you continued to move on top of him. Seonghwa gripped your hips tightly and pounded into you. With a few more thrusts, he shook. He pulled out of you and stroked himself vigorously. He came with a loud grunt, his cum shooting up and over his fist onto his shirt. You watched as he milked himself dry. Then he wiped his soaked hand on his dirtied shirt.
Seonghwa tilted your chin up and kissed you. Keeping your legs tightly wrapped around him, he stood, and carried you down a hall to his bedroom. He pulled you away from his softening cock and placed you on barely steady feet.
He held out a hand and you took it. Seonghwa spun you around so that you faced away from him. He worked the zipper of your velvet dress slowly down your back with his teeth. He kissed the base of your exposed spine.
Then he pulled the dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to your feet with a woosh. You stepped out of the dress and turned to face him. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of you, your body flush with arousal.
You reached behind you and made quick work of unclasping your bra. Your eyes never left his as you slid the material down your arms and to the floor. Your hands shakily reached for the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping each button apart until his shirt was fully open. You tugged the soiled garment from his pants and he shrugged it to the ground. His hands worked the button of his pants, quickly divesting himself of them. He was naked underneath. You let out a small gasp at finally seeing him bare.
His burns didn’t define him. The beauty of him of as a person did.
Soft, light filtering through his bedroom window illuminated his shadowed form. He backed you to the bed before reaching for your boy shorts. He placed an open mouth kiss to your chest as he shimmed your panties down your legs, his eyes still on yours. You kicked them aside. An overwhelming sense of self consciousness overtook you.
You quickly made to cover yourself with your hands when Seonghwa grabbed them.
“Hey,” he whispered into the dark. “It’s just me.”
Just him. Just the man you had fantasied about for months. And now he could see all of you.
“I wish you could see yourself as I do,” he murmured, his hands slowly stroking over your burns. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”
Heat flushed your cheeks in the dark. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. You gave up your fight in trying to cover yourself. Seonghwa brought your still shaking hands to his chest.
“Touch me,” his voice was like a command. One you willingly obeyed.
Your hands traced over the swells of his chest, and down to his toned stomach. You trailed back up ticklish sides, and down his fit arms. Taking his hands in yours, you carefully placed his hands on you.
You both took turns exploring each other, pausing at burned flesh to reverently worship it. Seonghwa moaned as your hands moved lower, brushing against the junction of his hip, moving around to squeeze the swells of his rear. He couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
His lips devoured yours. You held onto him as he lifted you off the floor and laid you onto the bed. He climbed on top of you, laying between your spread legs. He was already hard again, his length pressing against your hip.
He explored your body with his mouth as he had with his hands, taking in each and every inch. When he reached the junction of your thighs, he further parted your legs, making way for his broad shoulders. He ate you like a man starved. You came with his face buried in your pussy, your legs shaking around his head, your hands tugging at his hair.
Seonghwa placed delicate kisses up your body before he reclaimed your mouth. As he did, he slid his cock into you. You easily took him to the hilt. He unhurriedly made love to you, taking his sweet time with each drag of his cock against your walls. When he finally picked up his pace, you felt yourself on the precipice of coming once more.
The slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, as did Seonghwa’s words of sweet nothings into your ear. His hands searched for yours, your fingers intertwining. You came undone as he slammed into you. He moaned against your lips, his cock twitching with release deep inside of you. You felt warmth flood your belly, and you sighed contentedly.
This was better than you had ever dared imagine.
With a final kiss, Seonghwa pulled out of you, and rolled to your side. He watched as you came down from your high, both of you chasing to catch your next breath. You stared at his white ceiling, unsure of what came next.
Seonghwa reached out and began stroking your sweat covered skin. His fingers left pimpled flesh in their wake as you continued to catch your breath.
“So, City Museum and pizza tomorrow?” he broke the silence. You let out a hearty laugh.
“You want to see me again so soon?” you teased, rolling to your side. Seonghwa’s fingers continued to glide along your flesh.
“You could never leave and I would be a happy man, too,” he smiled. You felt yourself grinning in return.
“Pretty sure my roommate would hunt you down for kidnapping,” you laughed out loud. Seonghwa joined in, recalling her tenacity.
“I guess I will have to wait for pizza then,” he sighed dramatically, before laughing again.
“I think I can squeeze tomorrow in,” you answered. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up even in the dark.
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Though you weren’t one to hang out on work nights, you found yourself at the architectural playground, making the ten story climb for the ten story slide. The burn in your thighs was killer, but worth it.
The gleeful sound Seonghwa made as you slid down together, his arms wrapped around you, made the next tedious trek up the stairs even more worth it. Then you convinced him to take a slight break and climb around the wooden maze.
Your knees weren’t made for this kind of activity anymore and you would most certainly pay for it later. But for now, you enjoyed the moment.
The near constant laughter. How Seonghwa looked like a bunny when his head would pop out of a random hole.
You played for hours.
Climbing, Exploring. Taking pictures.
It felt natural.
So did sitting on his couch with take out. The pizza place he had in mind was closed by the time you left around midnight, so you settled for grabbing food in The Loop.
Seonghwa was animatedly talking about one of his early saves when you asked around a mouthful of food.
“Do you miss being a fire fighter?”
That had been the wrong question. Of course he did.
“Every day.”
You placed a hand over the one closest to you. “I’m so sorry, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa visibly swallowed, his eyes darkening. “It wasn’t your fault.”
The man who had caused the fiery crash had passed away on scene. There would be no real closure for either of you.
You glanced down at your watch. It was late.
“I should probably get going,” you rose to your feet. Seonghwa pulled you back down so that you were in his lap. Your heart skipped a beat.
He cupped your cheek, glided his hand down your throat, and rested his palm on your chest.
“Stay.”
Work night sex was a bad idea. But his sultry voice was sending heat directly between your legs.
Fuck.
That night, he didn’t cherish you like the first time. He took you hard and fast. He left marks on your body where his hands squeezed and pulled. Teeth tugged at flesh, nipping your most sensitive spots. He held his hand around your throat like a five digit choker. It had you coming seeing stars.
Though something about it felt off.
It felt…angry.
Like he was using you to take out rage you had inadvertently planted and fostered. That thought had falling asleep in his arms nigh on impossible.
Something had shifted.
You just didn’t know what.
❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥
You woke the next morning to the smell of a barbeque. There was a light stinging in your right bicep. You moved to feel the area when you realized your hands were bound.
And you weren’t in a plush bed.
Your eyes shot open. You found yourself lying on a crematorium table, your body dressed, bound, and useless.
Seonghwa sat beside you watching, waiting for you to wake. He was glaring at you, a burning rage visible in his big boba eyes.
“Seonghwa,” you tried to speak calmly. “What’s going on?”
“Retribution,” he answered with a smug sigh. “I thought having you, building something with you, taking you apart from the inside would be enough. That being around someone who truly understood could fix me. That time with you would heal my wounds. But I lost more than just skin that day…”
“Seonghwa–”
“Stop. Saying. My. Name.”
You bit your lower lip to stay quiet.
“You cost me my dream. My life.”
You looked up at him through glassy eyes. “I didn’t cause the wreck or the fire.”
A sudden slap against your face startled you. Flesh stung where his hand had rebounded. He looked poised to strike again. You began tugging at your poorly secured hands. He must have anticipated that you would be weak based on whatever he had given you.
He underestimated your drug tolerance.
“If anyone is at fault it’s you,” you spat at him. “It was your job to secure the car before using the saw. You’re blaming me for your fuck up!”
Seonghwa let out a howl of rage. He swung his arms, slinging random bottles and instruments aroused the room. You flinched, waiting to be hit again. Instead, he turned on the furnace. Heat licked at your feet.
“I liked you better quiet,” he seethed. He pulled a syringe from his pocket. He uncapped it and leaned over you. You pulled your hands free just as he went to pierce your skin. You hit him, causing the drug to miss you.
But not Seonghwa.
He took a full dose in the back of his hand.
“Fuck!” he shouted, pulling the needle from rough flesh.
You tried to get up from the table but you were weaker than you had realized. You were almost sitting upright when Seonghwa loomed over you, pinning you to the table. You fought him, struggling against strong arms.
Arms that held you mere hours ago.
“Get off of me!” you yelled, pressing against his chest. He only moved closer, his weight trapping you on the heating metal. Whatever was in the syringe hadn’t fully kicked in yet. The furnace was beginning to melt the bottom of your shoes.
Seonghwa drew back and hit you again. You tasted blood in your mouth. You spat off to the side. Suddenly, he began to roll off of you, his balance wavering.
“And to think I actually gave a damn about you,” you spat again, watching as he stumbled against the furnace door. With what little strength he had, he began moving the table…
With you on it.
“Oh fuck no,” you gasped. You began scooting backwards as quickly as possible. You soon dropped to the cold, concrete floor, as you landed on your hands and ass. Your wrists stung upon impact.
Seonghwa tried to stand again. Only this time the drugs were too powerful. He collapsed across the furnace table.
He was too close to the flames.
You watched in horror as his skin and clothes caught fire. Seonghwa let out a horrific scream, his already burnt skin reigniting.
You were frozen, unsure of what to do.
Should you save someone who tried to kill you?
He would only finish the job if you did.
Not putting out the fire wasn’t technically murder…right?
Seonghwa made sudden eye contact with you as he burned. His trachea was scorched, his vocal cords unable to work.
Your heart was painfully hammering in your chest.
Stupid as it was, you reached for the fire extinguisher on the wall. You pulled the pin, aimed the hose and…hesitated.
A sharp pain through your breast had you dropping the extinguisher and clutched your chest.
Fuck.
This could not be happening.
The smell of roasting flesh caught your nose. You vomited into your mouth. You reached for your cellphone on the table and dialed 9-1-1.
You couldn’t even make out your name before everything went dark.
❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥
A surveillance camera in the mortuary caught most of the conversation and resulting altercation. You were found to not be at fault.
Not that that mattered.
The shock of everything that had gone down had triggered a fatal heart attack. You died just like Seonghwa had wanted you, too.
Cold, alone, and afraid.
Only he took himself out in the process.
St. Louis Cremation was kept closed for only three days to process the scene and the bodies. Then they reopened. The news repeatedly played “The Downfall of Mr. November” like it was titillating news.
Then one day you weren’t relevant anymore.
But as they say, the dead never sleep.