* * *
Before he knew it, Sinje’s fingers were trailing across his forehead, earlobe, cheek, and the nape of his neck—making it crystal clear what he actually wanted.
Maybe it was unintentional at first, but definitely not anymore.
“A drink at the hotel bar, followed by a rich, intimate night… the kind only lovers can share.”
He raised the corners of his lips as his thumb brushed Doyoung’s lower lip, and his index finger caressed the upper one—his voice soaked in temptation.
“Alright, then.”
Doyoung answered, then playfully licked the thumb teasing his lip.
As if waiting for that, the thick finger slipped between his lips.
The firmness as it passed over his bottom teeth made Doyoung swirl his tongue against it, sucking, pressing, and then gently pushing it away—like saying not yet, wait until later.
“Let’s eat first. Not here.”
The one he had gone out of his way to provoke was Beom Sinje, and yet, in an instant, Doyoung found himself silenced and the car already in motion.
Only then did he realize they had been talking, waiting for the traffic light to change.
“Ah…”
Heat flushed up his face.
“This is insane.”
Clicking his tongue, he stealthily cracked open the window.
Thankfully, he couldn’t hear any laughter coming from the driver’s seat.
Not that it meant Beom Sinje had forgotten the pathetic scene from a moment ago — and that was the problem.
“Should we just order room service?”
“No. I want something filling.”
The firm response finally made Beom Sinje let out a short, deflating chuckle.
Doyoung rubbed his flushed cheeks with the back of his hand and allowed a small smile to slip.
The breeze slipping in through the window felt cool and sweet.
The car soon pulled into the hotel parking lot.
As they stepped out, Beom Sinje immediately offered his hand.
Doyoung glanced around before quietly taking it.
The two of them entered the hotel playfully swinging their hands.
The restaurant was on the top floor — a place that doubled as a bar, which Doyoung remembered from their last visit.
“Table for two?”
As soon as they exited the elevator and reached the restaurant entrance, a server greeted them.
“Would you like a window seat?”
Beom Sinje nodded, and the server followed up with another polite question.
Doyoung noticed the slight widening of the server’s eyes earlier and appreciated that he wasn’t making a fuss over recognizing them.
“Yes.”
At Doyoung’s response, the server guided them to a table by the window — the perfect spot with a clear view outside, yet hidden enough from the inside not to draw attention.
“I’ll be nearby. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Once the server bowed and left, Doyoung and Beom Sinje began quietly discussing what to eat and which drinks to pair with the meal.
“It’s an honor to serve two Hunters.”
At Beom Sinje’s call, the server returned to take their order and offered a respectful greeting.
“Uh… Th-thank you.”
I’m never coming here again.
Doyoung, ironically, felt more embarrassed by the display.
Beom Sinje, watching his flustered lover squirm awkwardly, subtly gestured for the server to leave.
“Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like this is your first time.”
“He said it’s an honor. Doesn’t that kind of talk make you cringe?”
“I don’t know. I’m surprised you’re so sensitive about it.”
Doyoung had always drawn attention for various reasons, yet reacting like this over something a server said was oddly out of character, even for Beom Sinje.
“We’ve dealt with way worse while traveling. Remember the Argentine guild master?”
Doyoung, now a bit more composed, nodded at the mention.
“True. I used to just laugh it off when it happened abroad, but somehow I can’t do that here.”
Maybe it was because they had just met with Mrs. Jo Wonhee.
It was the first time someone that close to Beom Sinje had learned about their relationship.
“Don’t worry about what others think.”
“I’m not.”
At his firm reply, Beom Sinje simply smiled again.
Yes, this was the Doyoung he knew — someone who stood firm in his beliefs.
“I’ll bring the wine first.”
And staying true to that, Doyoung offered the same server who had flustered him earlier a calm nod this time.
“Your mother really surprised me.”
After their meal, they moved to a new spot.
Gazing into a glass of whiskey that glowed like the surrounding lights, Doyoung spoke.
With a full stomach and the buzz of alcohol setting in, his body relaxed into a pleasant haze.
“You weren’t surprised? Or did you already know?”
His softened gaze turned toward Beom Sinje.
With his chin resting on the back of his hand, he looked more unguarded than usual.
Beom Sinje, as if out of habit, reached out and touched Doyoung’s cheek, nose, jawline, and lips — each touch soft and affectionate.
“Of course I was surprised.”
“Then why were you so calm?”
“Because I was more happy than shocked, I think.”
“Happy? About what?”
“That she was sincerely hoping we’d meet.”
Doyoung slowly closed and opened his eyes.
“And that you also wanted to meet me.”
Beom Sinje traced the delicate eyelids and long lashes with his finger.
Every place he touched trembled lightly.
“Shall we head up?”
“…Yeah.”
Doyoung couldn’t possibly be unaware of the desire behind those words — not when it was written all over his touches and the way he looked at him.
“Ah!”
As soon as he stood, he was suddenly lifted off the ground.
It all happened so fast, he couldn’t even protest. Doyoung blinked rapidly, unlike before.
But instead of saying anything, he bit his lip and wrapped his arms around Beom Sinje’s solid neck.
Eyes squeezed shut, he buried his face against that broad chest.
“Don’t laugh.”
His body trembled slightly — Beom Sinje was chuckling softly.
When Doyoung grumbled, he received a light kiss in return.
“Let’s go already.”
“Yes, hyung.”
Still unable to suppress his grin, Beom Sinje strode forward.
Doyoung had no idea where they were going.
Because his eyes were still closed.
No — to be exact, he didn’t have the mental space to open them.
“Don’t.”
Eventually, Doyoung opened his eyes and protested.
“I said stop.”
Somehow, even while carrying him, Beom Sinje managed to stroke his thighs and ankles.
His lips, meanwhile, kept brushing across Doyoung’s chin, neck, the corner of his mouth, and ears — though deliberately avoiding his lips.
“We’re here.”
And that was all he said.
Doyoung shot him a glare, then looked away.
As if waiting for that, Beom Sinje unlocked the door with his card.
The door opened.
Doyoung immediately tensed, trying to break free.
Beom Sinje didn’t seem inclined to stop him — or so he thought, until his wrist was caught.
As he turned back, their lips met.
The surface, tinged with anticipation, was searing hot.
Doyoung stepped backward, welcoming the tongue that slipped past his lips and explored him.
His hands moved to Beom Sinje’s shirt.
His fingers moved boldly, unbuttoning it.
Beom Sinje was just as relentless.
They stripped each other with practiced urgency.
Even when their lips broke apart, their eyes stayed locked — hungry, like they might devour one another.
By the time they neared the bed, a trail of clothes marked their path like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs.
Thump.
Doyoung, pushed, tumbled back onto the bed.
More than the soft sheets, it was the hot, damp press of lips that he felt most vividly.
A long, long night was just about to begin.
* * *
