Crimson Threads || Soonhoon

Seis

Jihoon entered his house, the familiar silence welcoming him. But this time, he wasn’t alone. He could feel Soonyoung’s gaze even without him physically being there. His eyes quickly scanned the room, and the faint red lights blinking from the corners caught his attention. Hidden cameras. Soonyoung’s presence lingered in the air, invasive, yet thrilling in its own way.

A smirk tugged at Jihoon’s lips as he walked further into the house, a deliberate swagger in his step. He knew exactly what this was: a challenge. Soonyoung wanted to watch, to see him up close without touching, and Jihoon was more than willing to give him something to obsess over.

He headed to the bathroom, his fingers trailing lazily over the sink as he opened his wardrobe. He spotted a loose, oversized shirt hanging among his clothes and pulled it out, the soft fabric slipping over his skin. It draped casually over him, exposing the barest hint of his collarbone and framing his slender figure in a way that he knew would drive Soonyoung mad. His blond hair was slightly tousled, still messy from earlier, and Jihoon barely adjusted it, knowing the disheveled look only added to the effect.

Satisfied, he made his way back to the bedroom, every step deliberate, knowing the cameras were capturing each movement. He could almost feel Soonyoung’s hungry eyes following him, desperate to close the distance between them.

Jihoon settled onto the bed, reclining casually as he locked his gaze onto one of the cameras. He leaned back on his hands, legs crossed, his expression a perfect blend of amusement and seduction. The silence in the room hung heavy, thick with the unspoken tension that stretched between them.

“Enjoying the view?” Jihoon asked softly, his voice dripping with challenge. He waited a beat, letting his words hang in the air. He could practically see Soonyoung on the other side, eyes dark with longing and frustration. The thought made Jihoon’s smirk grow wider.

But Jihoon wasn’t done. He reached for the knife that rested on his bedside table, his fingers wrapping around the hilt with an almost casual grace. With a flick of his wrist, the blade soared through the air, cutting through the stillness before embedding itself perfectly into the lens of the camera. The glass shattered, and the red light blinked out, the camera rendered useless in an instant.

Jihoon’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he admired his handiwork. “Better luck next time, Soonyoung.”

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Soonyoung’s POV

Soonyoung sat in front of his laptop, his heart pounding in his chest as the feed from Jihoon’s house flickered to life. The second Jihoon walked through the door, his pulse had quickened. There was something about the way Jihoon moved, the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence, that set Soonyoung’s blood on fire.

He watched, breathless, as Jihoon discovered the cameras, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. God, he was infuriatingly perfect. The way he stared directly into the lens, as if he knew exactly what Soonyoung wanted—what he needed—made Soonyoung’s heart race. Jihoon was a master at this game, and Soonyoung was hopelessly, helplessly ensnared.

His breath caught when Jihoon entered the bathroom, and moments later, reappeared in that loose shirt, barely hanging onto his frame. Soonyoung could see the soft fabric draping over his body, hinting at the skin beneath, and it was enough to send his mind spiraling.

The sight of Jihoon on the bed, lounging casually with that smug, teasing look—it drove Soonyoung mad. He clenched his fists, leaning closer to the screen as if somehow that would close the unbearable distance between them. His eyes followed the curve of Jihoon’s body, the way the shirt clung in all the right places, and for a moment, Soonyoung felt a deep, consuming desire wash over him. He wanted to touch, to be near him, to claim him in every way imaginable.

“Damn it, Jihoon,” Soonyoung whispered, his voice low and strained. The desire in his chest was almost painful, his need for control and dominance unraveling in Jihoon’s presence. He watched as Jihoon picked up the knife, his heart pounding louder in his ears.

When Jihoon threw the knife, Soonyoung couldn’t tear his eyes away. The blade flew straight into the camera, shattering the lens and plunging the screen into darkness. Soonyoung stared at the black screen, his pulse racing, his breath shallow.

That smile. That knowing, wicked smile on Jihoon’s face was burned into his mind, and it was driving him to the brink. His heart thundered in his chest, a mixture of frustration and an all-consuming desire coursing through him.

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung breathed, his hands shaking as he stood. His entire body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for Jihoon, for the touch he was being denied. He wanted to be there, to tear through the distance between them, to make Jihoon understand just how deep his obsession ran.

But even as Soonyoung’s frustration mounted, there was an undeniable thrill coursing through him. Jihoon was playing with him, teasing him, and it only made Soonyoung want him more. He wasn’t in control anymore—Jihoon had taken that from him. And Soonyoung, despite his rage, couldn’t help but want more. He needed more.

His hands balled into fists as he grabbed his jacket, eyes dark with intent. He wasn’t just going to watch anymore. The game was far from over, and this time, Soonyoung wasn’t planning on losing. Not when the prize was Jihoon.

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-Rix