Steam clung to the mirror, fogging up the glass as Seo-jun braced both hands on the sink, trembling. Sweat slicked his skin, the room spinning with heat not caused by the shower. His body was betraying him—again.

He didn’t hear the door open until Min-jae’s voice sliced through the haze.

Min-jae:
"You’re not answering me. What the hell’s going on with you, Seo-jun?"

Seo-jun flinched.
Seo-jun:
"I—I said I’m fine. Just let me—"

Min-jae:
"Bullshit."
He grabbed the fogged-up glass door and yanked it open, eyes narrowing as his gaze fell on Seo-jun’s flushed face, his shaking legs, the way his towel clung too tightly to damp skin.

Min-jae:
"You’re burning up. Are you out of blockers?"

Before Seo-jun could answer, a heavier presence entered the room behind Min-jae.

Do-hyun:
"…Seo-jun?"
His tone was low, more careful, but there was tension in it—something dangerous.

Seo-jun tried to straighten, failed. He clutched the sink harder.

Seo-jun:
"D-Don’t come closer. I can’t… I can’t think—"

Do-hyun’s eyes darkened instantly.
Do-hyun:
"Shit. He’s in heat."

Min-jae: (voice like steel)
"And we’re both in rut."

Seo-jun’s breath hitched. His scent was thick in the air now—sweet, addictive, like something forbidden.

Seo-jun:
"Leave. Please—just leave. Before I—"

Do-hyun:
(stepping closer, voice rough and low)
"You think we’re just gonna walk out and leave you like this? When you can barely stand? When your body’s screaming for us?"

Min-jae:
"You should’ve told us."

Seo-jun:
(softly, voice breaking)
"I didn’t want you to see me like this…"

Do-hyun:
"We’ve already seen you on your knees in the boardroom, pretty boy."
He smirked, eyes hungry.
"You think this is worse?"

Min-jae:
(stepping in, firm grip closing around Seo-jun’s wrist)
"Stop pretending. You’re ours."

Seo-jun’s lips parted, a shiver wrecking through him as he whispered:
Seo-jun:
"Min-jae…"

Do-hyun:
"Tell us to stop. Right now. Say it, and we will."

Silence. Just Seo-jun’s shallow, ragged breaths. The soft, desperate sound of a whimper tore from his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Seo-jun:
"…I can’t."

Min-jae:
(leaning in, his breath against Seo-jun’s neck)
"Good. Then let us take care of you."

Do-hyun:
"Together."
He closed the distance, his hand slipping behind Seo-jun’s neck, grounding him.

The towel fell to the floor with a soft, wet sound. Two bodies closed in, all heat and need. Seo-jun gasped as Do-hyun’s mouth found his collarbone while Min-jae pressed against his back, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Min-jae:
"We’ll make you feel so good, baby. You won’t even remember the pain."

Do-hyun:
"Just focus on us. Let it all go."

The last thing Seo-jun thought before everything blurred into heat and surrender was how wrong it should be… and how right it felt to finally fall apart in their arms.

The quiet on the island was not an absence of sound, but a fullness. It was the hum of bees in the lavender bushes Seo-jun had planted, the rhythmic scratch of Ha-ru's pencil as he solved advanced calculus problems at the kitchen table, the soft, percussive tap of Min Jae's own pen as he reviewed architectural plans. This was the music of their life, a composition more complex and satisfying than any corporate symphony he had ever conducted.


Chapter 125 - It’s just us again.