CHAPTER 105
The metallic clank of the heavy residential gate echoeing down the narrow, midnight-shadowed alleyway usually felt like a definitive closing bracket to Sunghoon's day. It was the sound of sanctuary, the threshold where Actor Haru could strip away the rigid, public persona off his shoulders and simply breathe.
Stepping inside the quiet apartment, the lack of the usual chaotic background noise immediately stood out. There was no chaotic pile of discarded platform sneakers by the shoe rack, no obnoxious humming from the television, No Se-hee's characteristic, dramatic ruckus echoing from the living room. A quick glance at his phone confirmed a brief text from her; she was still out with Hae-rin at the afterparty and had likely been dragged into a second-round afterparty or a late-night shopping spree in Dongdaemun by Hae-rin.
He was entirely alone.
Sunghoon shed his heavy dark overcoat, hanging it up with practiced, slow movements before wandering into his bedroom. He slumped onto the edge of the mattress, the sudden, ringing silence of the room pressing against his temples. His brain was operating on zero sleep, buzzing with a volatile mixture of a few obligatory sips of hanwoo-dinner alcohol and raw, lingering stage adrenaline.
Usually, when he found himself alone in the quiet dark, the ghost of his past life would claw its way to the surface, bringing with it a heavy caution. He would think about Director Park's freezing remarks and more but not tonight.
Tonight, looking around the empty room, a completely different, uncharacteristic impulse seized him. A few days ago, while skimming through the deep, anonymous corners of the internet to research modern relationship trends, he had come across a concept that had made his sophisticated, old-school soul flush with a mixture of intense embarrassment and deep curiosity. It was something modern couples did when separated by continents and brutal time zones. An intimate, visual compromise designed to bridge thousands of miles.
Now, with the alcohol humming softly in his veins and the apartment entirely to himself, the reckless, spontaneous edge of Haru's youth won out over Sunghoon's rigid discipline.
He stood up, his heart already executing a sudden, irregular flutter against his ribs. He bypassed his own side of the wardrobe, his fingers searching until they wrapped around a specific piece of fabric. It was the white, premium cotton button-up shirt he had subtly "borrowed" from Raiven the second time he had ever stayed over at the luxury penthouse.
He stripped off his casual trousers and stage garments, leaving himself in nothing but a pair of dark, boxers that left his long, pale legs entirely exposed to the cool air of the room. He slipped Raiven's shirt over his shoulders. Because of the stark difference in their physical builds, the fabric hung loosely, the hem draping over his thighs and the sleeves pooling slightly at his wrists.
Sunghoon deliberately left the upper three buttons undone, the collar parting wide to expose the smooth, unblemished line of his collarbones and the flushed, warm skin of his chest.
He set his phone up on the dark mahogany desk, adjusting the angle meticulously until the camera captured the entire expanse of the bed. Then, crawling onto the mattress, he folded his legs beneath him, the loose white cotton shifting seductively against his skin. He looked at his reflection on the glowing screen. His cheeks were undeniably pink from the alcohol and the sheer audacity of what he was about to attempt. He bit his lower lip, a nervous, breathless huff escaping his nose as his thumb hovered over the video call icon for Jae-wook.
He pressed it.
The digital ringing tone seemed to vibrate through the entire room, stretching the tension until his stomach knotted. He felt his heart leap into his throat when the screen suddenly shifted, fracturing into a high-definition view of a dim, luxurious hotel room in London.
Jae-wook's face filled the screen. He looked beautifully, devastatingly drowsy. His silver-white hair was tied back recklessly, a few stray locks framing his brow, and his dark eyes were heavy with the brutal exhaustion of a three-a-m film set. Yet, the moment his gaze registered Haru on the screen, a soft, incredibly tired smile broke across his sharp features.
"Did you love my present?" Jae-wook's voice came through the speaker,a low, raspy, gravelly rumble that vibrated right through Sunghoon's skin.
"I loved it," Haru stated happily, his eyes crinkling with a genuine, bright warmth that completely erased the lingering fatigue of the fan meeting. "The drones were beautiful, Jae-wook-ya. Though the billboards were entirely excessive."
On the other side of the world, Jae-wook didn't immediately answer. His dark eyes, usually so calculated and intense, suddenly locked onto the visual framing of the camera. He took Haru in, his gaze tracing the loose white cotton of his own shirt hanging precariously off Haru's shoulders, the exposed slope of his chest, and the long, entirely bare expanse of his legs shifted against the sheets.
Jae-wook gulped, a visible shift occurring in his posture. The heavy, dead-tired sleepiness he had been battling vanished in a single, electric second. He adjusted his position on the hotel bed, shifting to a better angle, his phone gripped tightly .
"You're drunk," Jae-wook stated, a slight, breathless chuckle escaping his lips. Over the past few months, he had come to learn that while Sunghoon was usually a fortress of absolute control and calculated boundaries, he became brilliantly, delightfully spontaneous when a little alcohol softened his edges.
"A little," Haru murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, more fluid register. He reached up, his small hand brushing his dark hair back from his forehead, a movement that naturally pulled the loose fabric of the unbuttoned shirt further back, exposing the smooth, pale skin of his chest.
Jae-wook's eyes fell instantly to that patch of skin. He let out a long, heavy, defeated sigh, his mind starting to gloss over with a sudden, overwhelming hunger. It was an agonizing kind of torture. He was trapped in a cold hotel room miles away, while his boyfriend looked so utterly enchanting, so thoroughly delicious, that he almost believed Haru was doing it entirely on purpose to torment him.
"Why do you look so good?" Jae-wook asked, his voice dropping an octave into something whiny and demanding.
"Do you like it?" Haru replied, a playful, conspiratorial glint flashing in his dark eyes. Shifting his weight against the pillows, he slowly lifted one leg slightly off the mattress, letting the hem of the white shirt slide back just enough to test the absolute limits of Jae-wook's sanity. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to be intentionally seductive, his modern-day research clashing with his natural, mesmerizing charm, though a small, hyper-aware part of his mind desperately hoped he wasn't making a complete fool of himself.
"Yes!" Jae-wook said, the word escaping him like a breathless prayer. He shifted restlessly against his pillows, his jaw tightening as he stared at the screen. "I wish so much that I was closer to you right now. Especially now. What possessed you to dress like that?"
"I heard couples do this when they're apart... so I wanted to try it," Haru stated, the admission bringing a fresh, fierce wave of embarrassment that turned his face and the tips of his ears an even deeper shade of red. He looked down at the sheets for a second, suddenly feeling the weight of his old-school soul reacting to the sheer naughtiness of a video-call tryst.
Jae-wook looked at his boyfriend in absolute admiration, his heart hammering against his ribs. The vulnerability on Haru's face was intoxicating. Wanting to push him just a little further, to see how far this spontaneous streak would go, Jae-wook leaned closer to his camera, his eyes burning.
"Do what?" he asked, his tone laced with a deliberate, teasing edge. "Spell it out for me, Haru."
Haru sat back against the wall beside the headboard, his eyes focusing intensely on the phone screen, staring directly into Jae-wook's eyes as if the digital barrier didn't even exist. The sheer thought of Jae-wook looking at him like this,with that raw, unbridled eagerness,sent a sudden, intoxicating wave of heat rushing through Sunghoon's body.
"I didn't forget,"Haru stated, his tone suddenly dropping its playful register, turning serious, focused, and incredibly deep. His fingers slowly reaching for the middle button of the shirt, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
Jae-wook's breath hitched. His eyes followed the movement of Haru's fingers with an absent-minded, almost drooling intensity. He sat up completely on his hotel bed, the covers discarding around his waist as he watched the first loop of the button slide through the fabric. "Forget what?"
"Our six-month anniversary," Haru stated. He stopped his fingers, his tone suddenly losing its playful edge, shifting into something incredibly focused, serious, and deeply sincere.
The silence that followed through the international line turned heavy, thick, and profoundly emotional. Raiven's breath caught completely. With the brutal momentum of the album preparation, the different timezones, and the chaos of Haru's fan meeting, he hadn't thought Sunghoon would have the mental bandwidth to track the date especiallyon such a big milestone. He hadn't wanted to be overbearing or demanding on Haru's special day, choosing to bury his own sentimentality.
"No matter how busy I get, I will always remember," Haru whispered, his voice carrying the deep, ancient weight of a soul that valued every single second of this second chance especially when it involved Raiven.
Looking at the unshakeable sincerity painting his boyfriend's features, Raiven felt as though he had been struck by lightning.
Those words made Jae-wook's entire body shudder. His heart raced so violently he could hear it in his ears, a profound, terrifying wave of affection washing over him. He felt himself falling even further, deeper into an unpayable debt of love with the person before him.
"Haru," Jae-wook choked out, his grip tightening around the frame of his phone until his fingers ached. He felt something warm, stinging, and deeply emotional prick at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the screen. It was always like this. Haru possessed this terrifying, effortless ability to reach into the darkest, most locked-away corners of Jae-wook's chest and drag out emotions he had spent trying to keep barred.
"I love you, Jae-wook," Haru said softly, his voice dropping into that intimate register that always made Raiven feel completely defenseless.
Seeing the raw, unfiltered devotion on the screen brought a profound sense of quiet happiness to Sunghoon's chest. He loved that he could elicit such high-stakes vulnerability from a man who was normally an unyielding, clinical machine to the rest of the world. It felt like the very first time he had ever confessed it.
Slowly, deliberately, Haru's hand drifted downward, tracing the light, warm path across his stomach until his fingers reached the elastic waistband of his dark boxers. Jae-wook held his breath, his eyes wide and unblinking, watching in agonizing anticipation as the digital feed captured every micro-movement.
Haru hooked his fingers into the fabric, slowly sliding the boxers down his hips until they hung loosely around one leg, completely exposing his lower body to the camera. Jae-wook knew exactly what was happening now. He was more than willing to sacrifice every single hour of his remaining sleep, just to witness the absolute surrender of the man on the screen. Haru really did make him incredibly, beautifully weak.
With his legs spread slightly in front of the lens, offering a view that was completely unreserved, Haru let his eyes close. He placed his hand over himself and began to slowly, rhythmically stroke. The white cotton shirt hugged his frame loosely, shifting with the motion of his arm. A low, trembling groan escaped his lips, his head falling back against the wall as his throat flushed a deep crimson.
He kept his eyes closed, his mind instantly constructing a vivid, sensory landscape. He imagined the distinct scent of cedar and sandalwood. He imagined the heavy, calloused texture of Jae-wook's hands gripping his waist, the intense, dark eyes watching him with that familiar, dumbfounded reverence.
Through the phone speaker, the sound of Jae-wook's muffled, filthy curses sliced through the quiet room. He was completely losing his mind, watching his usually serene, dignified boyfriend totally dismantle himself across the digital screen.
The heat in Haru's body reached a fever pitch. Slowly, his thumb stilled against himself, his hand continuing its steady pace while his other hand drifted, his fingers tracing the inner curve of his thigh, his fingers slicking as they found the tight, warm entrance of his own body. He let out a sharp, fractured shudder as a single finger dipped inside, his hips arching slightly off the mattress.
"Haru, I—" Jae-wook's voice started, raw and completely strained.
Click.
The sound of the digital lock turning in the main entryway was a sudden, violent disruption. Sunghoon's past-life instincts flared to life in a single, terrifying millisecond. Before his mind could even process the security breach, the bedroom door swung open with a smooth, sweeping motion.
"Haru-ya, you won't believe what Se-hee did at the—" Hae-rin's voice cut through the air like a sudden, freezing blade.
Her sharp, professional persona was entirely absent; her coat was half-unbuttoned, her dark hair slightly rumpled from the afterparty, and her lips were parted to announce her return.
The words died instantly in her throat. The door remained halfway open, and Hae-rin stood frozen on the threshold, her sharp eyes bulging out of her head so far they looked ready to drop. Her gaze tracked from the phone set up on the desk, to Haru's completely bare legs, his hand frozen in an incredibly explicit position beneath the loose hem of a white button-up shirt.
The entire universe seemed to grind to a horrifying, dead halt.
The atmospheric silence that slammed into the room was freezing, absolute, and utterly catastrophic.
Sunghoon snapped upright, his face turning an astronomical shade of violent crimson as he scrambled backward, violently dragging the long hems of Raiven's white button-up shirt down to cover his lap, his knuckles turning white as he pinned the fabric between his thighs.
"Oh my goodness!" Hae-rin suddenly shouted, her voice cracking in a high-pitched, frantic register that Sunghoon had never heard from her before. She slammed both of her hands over her eyes, turning her back to the room so fast her hair whipped around her face. "I didn't see anything! I didn't see a single thing! I am so sorry!!"
With a frantic, terrified scramble, she grabbed the edge of the doorknob and yanked it shut, the heavy wooden barrier closing with a loud, resounding snap that left Haru sitting in a flabbergasted, frozen daze in the center of the bed.
For three seconds, the room was as silent as a tomb.
Then, a sudden, booming explosion of laughter filled the air.
Haru snapped his head toward the desk. On the screen, Jae-wook was completely doubled over on his hotel bed, his hands over his face as a loud, breathless, and utterly unbridled laugh shook his shoulders. The sheer, ridiculous absurdity of getting caught by their mutual best friend was too much to handle.
"Don't laugh!" Haru scolded him, his voice cracking as he quickly scrambled off the bed. His face was burning with a heat so intense he felt like he was going to combust. He threw open his dresser drawer with a violent tug, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and shoving his legs into them with frantic, uncoordinated movements.
"I am going to bed," Sunghoon announced through his teeth, his expression twisting into a fierce, burning scowl as he glared directly at the laughing image of his boyfriend.
"What? You're just giving up now?" Jae-wook teased through the speaker, his laughter finally settling into a deeply amused, wicked purr. He wiped a tear from his eye, leaning back against his pillows.
He leaned closer to his lens, his eyes dark with a lingering, wicked glint. "Come on, Haru-ya. I thought you wanted to be kinky tonight. What happened to long-distance couples managing the distance?"
Sunghoon glared at him, his knuckles tightening against the sheets before he finally let out a long, heavy groan, burying his entire face in his hands to hide the unstoppable, burning flush that refused to leave his cheeks.
"I am never living this down," he lamented into his palms, his voice muffled and thick with misery. "Never."