* * *
‘Crack!’
“Aaaaaaagh!!”
While Ben was lost in thought, the bloated man who tried to escape had his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
His scream of agony echoed through the alleyway.
One of his subordinates scrambled to lift him up, but Haimar had no intention of letting that happen.
At this rate, it wouldn’t be strange if Haimar—not Xenon—became the one who lost control.
Strictly speaking, this situation had been caused by Ben himself.
And he had a responsibility to take care of that man. He had promised.
If Haimar were to feel betrayed again, like before… that would hurt, in its own way.
But still, even if only slightly, just slightly—Ben had seen some change in that cold, inhuman man.
And he didn’t want to miss the moment that change began.
Honestly, if it were the old him, he would’ve moved out of obligation alone.
Acted out of duty, done everything he could, and then called it a day.
That would’ve been it.
It wasn’t about getting involved or not anymore.
Right now—he just didn’t want to see that man lose control.
Ben, too, let emotion override logic, just like Haimar.
So despite the swelling pain in his lower arm, he stepped forward, grabbing Haimar hard with his good hand and seizing his face.
“Look at me! Stop raging and try to calm down, please!”
Ben was the one who redirected his steps away from the crawling men, but it was he who was pulled instead—Haimar yanked him close, slamming his back hard against the wall with a thud.
The redirected killing intent blazed in Haimar’s jewel-like eyes, but Ben, even as a chill ran down his spine, held his gaze firmly and spoke with resolve.
“It’s okay now. You can stop. Try to settle yourself. Just… breathe.”
Haimar’s blank face gave nothing away, and Ben did everything he could to grab his attention.
But no matter what he said, there was no response.
Ben began to feel anxious.
Turning his back on the enemy wouldn’t stop Haimar from killing them, and it was starting to feel like his words weren’t reaching him at all.
So Ben let go of his face, opened his arms, and pulled him into a firm embrace.
“If you’re listening, at least say something.”
He thought that if he left Haimar alone like this, he might really just freeze up like a doll.
So Ben did what he could think of—he rubbed Haimar’s back, even using his sore arm, gently patting and soothing him.
He couldn’t see his face in this position, but the body that had felt like it had stopped breathing slowly began to exhale in a calm, steady rhythm.
That alone was enough to ease Ben’s anxiety a little.
“Phew…”
Haimar buried his face in the crook of Ben’s neck and took a deep breath.
As it repeated, Ben could feel the mood around them soften and calm.
And as Haimar gradually regained his composure in Ben’s arms, the feeling left in Ben was… strange.
…Maybe this is what it feels like to tame a wild beast.
Haimar moved his hand to gently hold Ben’s still face, then buried his face deeper into the crook of Ben’s neck.
Even though the ticklish sensation made Ben flinch, Haimar kept inhaling, repeatedly breathing him in like he was confirming something.
It was like a predator going through a ritual to mark its prey as its own.
The scent that hadn’t been there when it was just an empty shell with the same face.
A body that ran a little warm.
This is the real Ben Plaskun.
“I told you to come here.”
His low, growling voice wasn’t sharp, but it carried that familiar, dense sensuality.
“It wasn’t a situation where I could come.”
Seriously, how the hell was he supposed to get past that alley?
If he’d had the strength to take down both of them and get through, he wouldn’t have ended up in this mess to begin with.
The frustrated tone lacing his words—now that was just like Ben.
Hearing his voice, Haimar felt the jumbled noise in his head gradually settle.
The scattered sounds realigned, becoming clear again.
Like a beam of light cutting through a cloud-choked sky, the storm inside him began to calm.
“I shouldn’t have jumped in without listening to you properly.”
With a voice that held a hint of relief, Ben subtly glanced at Haimar for a reaction.
He thought he’d gotten pretty good at reading this man, but clearly, he still had a ways to go.
Awkwardly, he stopped patting Haimar’s back and waited for the man’s face—still pressed against his neck—to lift.
In the meantime, he glanced at the thugs they’d left behind, now scrambling away in a panicked retreat.
Thank god.
He’d been worried they might try to retaliate at the worst possible moment, but instead, they just ran off.
That was reason enough to celebrate.
The once-chaotic alley was now empty, save for Haimar and Ben leaning against the wall.
The only sound left was that of dry leaves rolling across the ground.
Sting!
“Ugh!”
A sharp pain suddenly pricked his neck, and Ben let out a surprised cry.
“Don’t bite! What are you doing?!”
At first, he didn’t even understand what was happening.
But even as Ben protested, Haimar blatantly continued biting his neck—as if to prove a point.
He didn’t bite hard, more like he was teasing the skin with gentle nibbles, then lightly licked the spot, his lips gliding over Ben’s neck like he owned it, leaving behind faint traces.
This man usually ran cold, yet somehow, whenever his lips touched him, they burned hot.
That vulnerable part of his neck, never given to anyone else, was now completely at this man’s mercy.
The strange, tingling heat that crawled up Ben’s spine made him shudder.
“W-Wait a minute!”
The body that had been passively resting in Haimar’s hold suddenly thrashed.
Ben struggled to push Haimar off.
But getting him off by strength alone was impossible to begin with, and with one arm still useless, it was basically the tantrum of a child.
Despite Ben’s efforts, the sensation of lips against his neck only grew more insistent.
Haimar’s canines grazed the thin skin of his nape—not quite painful, but not painless either.
A peculiar discomfort bloomed, unfamiliar and unsettling.
The heat and sting mixing at that spot made Ben instinctively grab at Haimar’s collar with his one working hand, but the man didn’t budge an inch.
That’s when Ben realized it was useless.
So instead, he turned his head, trying to escape the man’s face.
But then—
“Don’t avoid me.”
That voice, whispering by his ear, froze him like a broken clock.
It wasn’t just about this moment.
That’s why the words stung more than they should’ve.
“I… I’m not avoiding you.”
As if. Of course he was.
Ben clumsily denied it, but even he knew his behavior hadn’t been exactly natural since that kiss.
He had been quietly dodging Haimar.
And, of course, Haimar had picked up on it.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me—subtly, ever since that time.”
“…”
‘Ugh. I knew he noticed.’
He hoped Haimar hadn’t seen through him, but this level of precision was brutal.
Thank god their faces weren’t visible to each other right now—if Ben had to look Haimar in the eye and hear those words, his wildly shifting pupils would’ve given everything away.
But his stiffened body was already confirming Haimar’s accusation loud and clear.
Trying to act like he hadn’t avoided him would be an embarrassing lie—and the start of a cringeworthy new memory he’d never live down.
There’s no way he could bluff his way through this.
Not with this man.
“So… you were that uncomfortable with me? Enough to avoid me?”
That’s not it.
It’s just… a different issue…
While Ben hesitated, Haimar’s voice, muffled against his neck, crawled up toward his ear with a quiet threat.
His head was a tangled mess of thoughts, like a snarl of yarn, and Haimar’s uniquely cool scent wrapping around him wasn’t helping at all.
“Hmm? Answer me.”
That gentle-yet-pressing tone Haimar used—it was almost sweet, but also a form of elegant coercion.
Ben knew this was how he always spoke when he wanted something.
And every time, it threw him off guard.
Where the hell did he learn to pretend to be kind while forcing an answer out of someone?
“I-I didn’t mean I was uncomfortable…”
Ben stammered out a reply, but the words didn’t flow.
The answer was already clear in his heart, but no matter how many times he thought it through—carefully, seriously, thoroughly—he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
…No way.
‘That’s way too embarrassing to admit! I can’t! I won’t!’
“Then what?”
Haimar finally lifted his face from Ben’s neck, bringing them face-to-face.
So close their noses almost touched.
Ben’s pupils kept trembling, while Haimar’s slightly softened face now carried a trace of emotion.
From experience, Ben immediately knew what that emotion was: irritation.
He tried to avert his eyes to collect his thoughts, but Haimar caught his chin, holding him still.
“Do I not even deserve to hear why you saw that pitiful state of mine… and still let me off?”
You do. Of course you do.
Looking back, it was true—his attitude after Hermannsen had been questionable.
Haimar hadn’t done anything wrong.
If anything, Ben had caused a bigger mess.
He was the one hesitating.
Haimar had waited, and now he was asking… and considering who he was, the fact that he was still being patient said a lot.
If this man hadn’t been so patient…
Ben was pretty sure he’d be floating somewhere inside Haimar’s stomach by now.
No doubt about it.
* * *
