* * *
“Since we’re already out here, why don’t we grab a drink and rest somewhere nearby?”
“Here?”
Did they really need to?
He glanced at the car’s dashboard.
Even though they had driven along the river, they were still just outside the city.
It was only a little past 8 PM, meaning they could be home before midnight.
“Yes. There’s a nice hotel nearby. It’s by the river, so we can take a morning stroll. The bar there is great too—why not take it easy and enjoy the evening? After all, this is a date.”
It seemed ‘date’ was a magical word.
Before he realized it, Doyoung found himself leaning toward agreeing.
“You’ll be busy again next week with the guild leaders’ meetings. Why not make the most of the time we have?”
“So, your idea of a date is having drinks at a hotel and taking a morning walk by the river?”
Doyoung asked, half-joking.
Beom Sinje responded by gently stroking his cheek, the bridge of his nose, and even his ear.
He really did seem unaware of his own actions.
“Yes.”
Beom Sinje’s answer was short but firm.
His fingers brushed over Doyoung’s lips before retracting.
The car started climbing a gentle hill.
Soon, a sleek, well-maintained building came into view—a hotel.
It was annoying that Beom Sinje had planned this all along, but it wasn’t a bad idea.
“Alright then.”
Doyoung nodded, not thinking too much of it.
If he had known what that small decision would lead to, he might have been more cautious.
If only he had realized that the night ahead would be filled with deception, relentless pursuit, and utter exhaustion at Beom Sinje’s hands.
“What time is it…?”
Doyoung paused mid-sentence. His voice came out hoarse, raspier than expected.
Considering how much he had yelled last night, it made sense.
His head throbbed, his waist ached—clear signs of both a hangover and the aftermath of an intense night.
“I should never have let myself fall for that.”
It was the line about not knowing when they’d have another date that got him.
Honestly, everything had been fine up until their time at the bar.
As Beom Sinje had promised, the atmosphere was fantastic.
Soft music played in the background, a gentle river breeze drifted in, and the occasional chirp of insects and shimmer of moonlight made for a perfect evening.
It felt like a fitting way to end the day with someone he was dating.
Beom Sinje had kept refilling his glass, claiming the brandy was from Portugal.
It had a high alcohol content but was smooth and aromatic, making it easy to drink.
Maybe that was his mistake—he kept drinking more than he should have.
Before he knew it, his body was growing lax, his limbs barely responding.
A warning sign flashed in his mind—he should stop drinking.
‘We’re staying here anyway, so what’s the harm in drinking more?’
Beom Sinje had reassured him, promising to take him back to their room safely.
That was his downfall.
A few more drinks later, his body no longer felt like his own, and his vision blurred.
That should have been his final wake-up call.
Doyoung sighed, piecing together fragments of the hazy memories from last night.
His pliant body was cradled in strong arms.
Lips brushed against his cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, and finally, his own lips.
There was no mistaking who it was.
He flinched at the ticklish sensation, hearing a quiet chuckle in response.
Before he knew it, he was carried to their room.
Clothes were peeled away, and a cool towel was used to wipe his body.
He barely registered what was happening.
But when the towel was replaced by something warmer, moving lower, his hazy mind stirred with faint realization.
“You’re softer than usual, probably because you’re drunk.”
A voice murmured into his ear, sultry and teasing.
Then, a fingertip traced over an entrance that should have remained untouched.
He wanted to pull away, but his body wouldn’t move.
The best he could manage was a faint tremor.
“Come on now… We’re only just getting started.”
Maybe that’s why Beom Sinje misunderstood.
Before Doyoung could protest, the finger slowly pushed inside.
“Ah…”
It doesn’t hurt.
Surprisingly, it’s not even uncomfortable.
It was just a reflexive sound that escaped when something pushed inside.
Moreover, as the entrance instinctively tightened, the texture and thickness of the fingers pressing in became vividly clear.
Startled, Doyoung squirmed.
Or at least, that’s what he thought—though in reality, all he managed was a slight wriggling of his toes.
“Cute.”
The compliment made his ears burn.
At the same time, he could feel the fingers inside him pressing deeper.
“Ah… ngh…!”
He wanted to say no.
That it was too soon, that he wasn’t ready yet.
But the moment he opened his mouth, all that came out was a moan.
It was right after those fingers brushed against his slick inner walls.
A tingling sensation shot up from his tailbone.
He couldn’t believe his own body was reacting so strongly from just this much.
“You get even more sensitive when you’re drunk, don’t you?”
Beom Sinje seemed to have picked up on Doyoung’s state without much difficulty.
His fingers started moving even more deliberately.
“Hnn, ngh… ha…”
As those fingers rubbed and pressed inside him, Doyoung’s toes curled repeatedly.
When another finger slid in to stretch the other side, he rubbed his heels against the sheets, trying to endure it.
This wasn’t the first time Beom Sinje had done this.
He always took his time preparing him before going further.
So, it wasn’t as though this step had ever been skipped before.
“Is it because of the alcohol? You seem more sensitive than usual.”
A soft, amused voice tickled his ear, accompanied by warm breath.
A shiver ran down his nape.
His shoulders tensed.
His back arched off the bed.
That movement created a better angle for those fingers working inside him, allowing them to go even deeper.
“You’re being unusually eager tonight.”
As expected, Beom Sinje commented on it.
Normally, Doyoung would have said something—told him not to tease.
“Haa… ngh…”
But strangely, every time he opened his mouth, only helpless, lewd moans spilled out. He couldn’t help it.
The way those fingers stimulated him was too relentless, too thorough.
“That makes three now. You’re opening up so well…”
Was it the alcohol? Or was it simply the way those fingers were relentlessly stretching him apart?
Beom Sinje was saying something, but Doyoung could no longer make out the words.
The only thing left in his mind was a rising, insatiable need that spilled from his lips before he could stop it.
“Just put it in already.”
The fingers pressing and rubbing inside him only made the ache worse.
He wanted something thicker, something longer to finally fill him up properly.
He lifted his damp eyes.
His vision was hazy, but he still knew exactly who was in front of him.
The man who had brought him here.
The one who had claimed all of his attention and affection.
The person who now meant more to him than anyone else.
“Beom Sinje, hurry.”
He called his name.
The fingers moving inside him froze.
* * *
