Payback: Reversal

Prologue / The Whisper of Red Sunrise

Yoohan squinted his eyes at the orange light pouring from the crack between the window. It painted the dim room with reddish hue, and Yoohan had to close his eyes again at the pain it caused on his frontal lobe.

He felt a headache coming. But not from hangover.

He opened his eyes again. There was something else he saw near the window, basking on the meager light atop the chair. Solid muscle. Sharp piercing eyes. Dimpled smirk.

Yoohan shifted to lie on his back, sighing. "Damn it."

He was wondering whether it was fortunate or unfortunate thing that he remembered everything. Even after being that drunk that he randomly asked someone to sleep with him.     

"You're more of a mess than I thought, mister patron,"

Shit.

The voice was sweet, flowing easily on his ear like a devil's whisper. It wasn't at all what you would had expected from a brutal menace that came on top out of thirty fighters on his first fight night. Why would someone as battle craze as him had a voice made to seduce anyway? Yoohan groaned, not sure because of the headache or irritation. Yoohan had wondered whether it was the nice voice that compelled him into doing something he never did before.

Or, just like that man said, he had been a bigger mess than he usually were.

Although Yoohan remembered most of the event last night, the details was still kind of blurry. He remembered escaping from the crowd, looking for fresh air in the rooftop. He remembered the red moon, round and hypnotizing. He remembered the voice—low and soothing, even if laden with tease and taunt. He remembered feeling dejected and suffocated by the throngs of people surrounding him earlier—people whose trace vanished when he was in trouble three months ago.

He remembered wanting to feel hurt.

And he remembered wanting to escape the feeling of being alone inside his own darkness.

So he asked for something stupid.

Perhaps he just wanted to cling into something—into someone. And this man with nice voice and nice face and nice body who'd been taking up his interest all night seemed like a nice distraction.

No, a nice place to vent.

Yoohan almost forgot how they got into this room. It was a familiar room, so apparently he was sober enough to go into his permanent room in the club-adjacent hotel—or sober enough to give the man his key.

He remembered the kiss they had the moment the hotel room's door closed; it was harsh and aggressive, with vicious sucking and violent bites. Yoohan had slammed the man against the wall with whatever strength he still had in his arsenal. He remembered snapping the black shirt open and pushed the man into the bed.

In retrospect, the man seemed to just let Yoohan did whatever he wanted. Quite obviously, Yoohan wouldn't be able to slam and pushed on the man otherwise in his drunken state. And the man just looked at him with observing pale eyes, catering into his movement, holding him so Yoohan wouldn't stumble and fall.

Yoohan had climbed on top of the man, and sheathed himself without any preparation.

"Hey!" he remembered the man snapped and trying to stop him, holding his waist from going further. But Yoohan had slapped those hands, biting his lips hard that it drew blood.

"Shut up!" he had barked, glaring with ferocity. His hurting legs and blistered feet were throbbing, and his back was stinging. His entrance felt like it was burning, and there was searing pain spreading on his spine. Stubbornly, his hips going down on the massive shaft, trembling and tensing. He could feel the sting of his entrance tearing, and the wet feeling of blood flowing.