Drenched in Desire

The room was silent now, save for the sound of their breathing, uneven and tangled like their bodies had been just moments ago. The sheets were a mess, twisted and half-draped over them, but neither Jaeho nor Eunsu seemed to care.

Eunsu lay on his back, one arm flung over his head, his skin glowing faintly in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Jaeho was beside him, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on Eunsu like he couldn't believe he was real.

"What?" Eunsu asked, his voice rough but tinged with amusement as he turned his head to meet Jaeho's stare.

"You're... distracting," Jaeho said after a beat, his voice quieter than usual.

Eunsu let out a soft laugh, his lips curving into a smirk. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is," Jaeho admitted, though the way his hand traced lazy patterns across Eunsu's chest suggested otherwise. "You make me forget myself."

Eunsu's smirk faltered slightly, a flicker of vulnerability passing through his eyes. "Maybe that's a good thing," he murmured.

Jaeho's hand stilled for a moment, his dark eyes scanning Eunsu's face. There was something unspoken between them, something fragile yet undeniable.

"Why did you let me in?" Jaeho asked suddenly, his voice soft but insistent.

Eunsu hesitated, his gaze shifting to the ceiling as he tried to find the words. "I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe because you're the first person in a long time who didn't look at me like I was broken."

The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Jaeho's chest tightened, his fingers twitching against Eunsu's skin.

"You're not broken," Jaeho said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Not to me."

Eunsu turned to him again, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he reached up, his fingers brushing against Jaeho's jaw before pulling him down into a kiss.

This one was different—slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that made Jaeho's heart ache.

When they finally pulled apart, Eunsu let out a shaky breath, his fingers still tangled in Jaeho's hair. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

Jaeho smirked faintly, his lips ghosting over Eunsu's as he whispered, "So are you."

The glow of the moment didn't last long.

By the time Jaeho's phone buzzed on the nightstand, the weight of reality came crashing back.

Eunsu watched as Jaeho grabbed the phone, his expression darkening as he read the message.

"Let me guess," Eunsu said, his voice sharper now. "Your fiancée?"

Jaeho didn't answer immediately, his thumb hovering over the screen before he placed the phone back down.

"It doesn't matter," Jaeho said finally, his tone clipped.

Eunsu sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist. "It fucking matters, Jaeho. You can't just show up here, say all the right things, and then go back to her like none of this happened."

"I'm not going back to her," Jaeho snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

"Then what are you doing?" Eunsu demanded, his eyes blazing. "Because right now, it feels like I'm just some... escape for you."

Jaeho flinched at the words, his jaw tightening. "You're not an escape," he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

"Then prove it," Eunsu said, his voice breaking slightly. "Because I can't—" He paused, shaking his head. "I can't be your second choice, Jaeho."

The vulnerability in Eunsu's voice hit Jaeho like a punch to the gut. He reached out, his hand cupping Eunsu's cheek, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"You're not my second choice," Jaeho said, his voice steady. "You're my only choice. And I'll prove it to you."

Eunsu searched his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie, but all he saw was the raw, unfiltered truth.

"Then don't make promises you can't keep," Eunsu whispered, leaning into Jaeho's touch despite himself.

"I won't," Jaeho vowed, his thumb brushing over Eunsu's cheek. "Not with you."

The night ended with Jaeho leaving, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily between them.

Eunsu watched from the window as Jaeho disappeared into the night, his chest tight with a mixture of hope and fear.

And Jaeho, as he drove back to the suffocating life he'd built, couldn't stop thinking about the man who had unraveled him so completely.

This wasn't over—not by a long shot.