The heart Killers ( English translation)

*CHAPTER 8*

……..
On Friday evening, bison had already left when the shop wasn’t particularly busy. Fadel wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Suddenly, the shop filled up with customers, every table occupied, leaving him momentarily at a loss. He tried calling Bison to come back, but it seemed like Bison was deliberately ignoring his calls. Fadel decided to work alone like a superhero, dealing with the situation by having customers write down their orders and bring them up themselves.

However, just as he was about to hand out the note papers to the customers, someone’s hand snatched them away. He looked up and saw Style grinning widely.

“Is bison not here?”

“He went out with friends. Why are you here?”

“Just to see the results. My friend who came yesterday runs a page for travel and restaurant recommendations. I didn’t even hire him; I just invited him to taste the food. He loved what you made so much that he volunteered to give you a no-sponsor review. He just finished editing the clip and posted it on his page this afternoon. Look at the impact—once people finished work, they flocked here. From now on, you could hire ten employees, Fadel. Your place is famous now.”

Fadel was speechless and got the feeling that Style wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say anyway because, as soon as he finished talking, he grabbed the menu and ordered sheets and started attending to the customers.
……….

“Please, feel free to choose your seats first. I’ll bring the menus to your table. The food might take a bit longer than usual today, but I guarantee it will be delicious… Here’s the menu, have a look! When you’re ready to order, just raise your hand high, and I’ll come right over.”

Style expertly handled the role of the waiter. Fadel exhaled through his lips, rubbed his hands together, and took in the sight of the bustling restaurant, imagining himself standing in front of the stove.

He had always dreamed of this moment—of seeing his restaurant filled with customers, of being known. He wanted to be a chef, not an assassin.

“Boss, hurry it up!” Style came over with the first order. Fadel took a deep breath again, momentarily forgetting about Bison and Kant, and even forgetting who he really was. The restaurant was chaotic, but it was a kind of chaos that got his adrenaline pumping. Fadel admitted he had never been this exhausted before, and he didn’t get to sit down until the “open” sign on the front door was flipped to “closed.”

Late into the night, only he and Style were left in the restaurant. There weren’t even any ingredients left to whip up a snack for themselves. But that wasn’t an issue—Style ordered dinner and some snacks to be delivered to the restaurant, and Fadel volunteered to cover the bill for the meal. They sipped on beer together after the shift, and the tension Fadel usually felt toward Style had almost entirely faded. Still, being naturally reserved, Fadel remained more of a listener than a talker.

Meanwhile, the more Style drank, the livelier he got, blasting music to entertain himself and finding stories to tell Fadel, making the stern-faced man unintentionally smile. He even lost track of the time without realizing it.
……..
“Just a few years ago, I used to be so scared of chicken feet. I'd see them and scream in terror... But my dad loves them. So one day, I was drinking beer with my dad, and I was really drunk. I mean, I was conscious but couldn’t control myself. My dad gave me some chicken feet to eat, and once I tasted it and realized how good it was, I stopped being scared. Man... this is one of the wonders of the world. Who would've thought that something that looks so ugly and creepy would taste this good? And this place’s super chicken feet soup is amazing, absolutely amazing."

Style gestured towards the bowl of super chicken feet soup. Fadel didn’t look at it but gave a small smile at his friend’s enthusiasm.

"So is there anything you don’t eat?"

"Not really, but I actually don’t like cucumbers."

"They’re good for you, you know?"

"I know, but I just don’t like them. Oh, and durian too. No matter how much people say it’s delicious, I can’t stand the smell, and I don’t understand why it’s so expensive."

"Do you realize you’re sitting with a durian lover? You should try opening your mind, Fadel. It’s the best...the best."

"No thanks. I’d probably throw up. But hey, I can make super chicken feet soup."

"Really? Make it for me, then. Buying it just isn’t satisfying enough. I want a lot of it. Like, use ten kilos of chicken feet."

"Chickens would go extinct, Style."

"Even though I’m drunk, I remember this is the first time you called me by my name properly."

Fadel was taken aback. Style clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the table, and gave a victorious smirk. Fadel wasn’t sure why he saw Style smile like a winner, but before he could fully process it, the doorbell at the entrance rang. Style, facing the door, called out, "We're closed."
……….
“Choosing to come by at closing time, huh?” The brusque reply and the sound of footsteps were both things Fadel was familiar with. He turned to look and saw that it was keen, who was already eyeing him and Style.

“He’s a friend of mine, so he can have a drink while he waits. I’ll go talk to him for a bit.” Fadel said, then invited, “Care to join us for a drink?”

Fadel's voice turned firm. “No need to invite him. He won’t drink with us.”

Fadel got up from his chair. keen led the way toward the back of the bar, with Fadel following behind, while Style, despite being quite drunk, still had enough awareness to size up Fadel's acquaintance.

This person was dressed in a suit and tie, looking polite—like the kind of secretary that would work for a billionaire. Style wasn’t about to miss a chance to gossip about this with his best friend, Kant.

Style: I’m drinking at Fadel’s bar, and someone came looking for him. All dressed up, very businessman-like—a hot nerd billionaire heir type.

Style: What if Fadel’s actually a CEO? His bar seems more like it’s for socializing than for profit, and now there’s this businessman coming to talk to him, and they’re going to talk in private.

Style: Or maybe he’s a rich heir just trying to gain life experience. If that’s the case, I won’t break his heart. I’ll take over his fortune instead. Here we go—the fast track to riches has arrived!

Kant: First, you’d better make him fall for you. Second, my advice—if you’re too drunk, you should just sleep.

Style tossed his phone onto the table, annoyed. Should he just make a move on Fadel already? Maybe then he’d get him to feel something.

Leaving Style to his silly thoughts, Fadel and keen made their way to the back of the bar, choosing a secluded spot to talk. Fadel lit a cigarette, and keen did the same.

“I’ve got something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“That pretty boy out there—are you close with him? And where’s Bison? Don’t tell me he’s with Kant,” shot straight to the point as he took a puff of his cigarette, the gray smoke filling the air around them.

“I’m not close with him, and as I said, he’s a bit suspicious. Did you get it? Personal info on Kant and Style?”

“Yes, there’s nothing odd in Style’s record, but Kant’s is strange. Years back, he got caught in a car theft case but wasn’t charged. I couldn’t find out why that was. Maybe tell Bison to be cautious around him. I don’t worry about you, but with Bison…”

“Got it, you don’t need to say more. And where’s the additional info for the new mission your mother asked you to bring?”

“It’s in the back pocket. Once you’re done reading, burn it.”

Fadel started reading the essential documents first, intending to go through Kant and Style’s backgrounds afterward. As he read, Keen added some context.

“The target is still Luerat, but he’s very cautious. You’d better go through his secretary first. He trusts his secretary, Penpak, a lot. If you can access Penpak’s information, you’ll get to Luerat too.”

“Do I really need you to teach me this stuff?”

Keen’s eyes gleamed with frustration behind his glasses, but he said nothing. He nudged a metal trash can in front of him, and once Fadel returned the documents, he used the same lighter he had lit his cigarette with to set fire to the corner of the papers. They watched the flames consume the few sheets in the can until they turned to ash, and then walked back to the front of the bar.
………

Style waved cheerfully at them, but Keen paid him no mind. Fadel, following behind Keen, firmly grabbed Style’s wrist.

“Fadel, that hurts.”

“Why are you waving at him like that? Don’t you see he couldn’t care less about you?”

“Why not? I’m just being friendly. What’s his name, by the way? He’s handsome.”

“If you’re drunk, just go to sleep.”

“Sleep? If I pass out, you’ll just throw me outside the bar again! Last time, I got bitten by mosquitoes everywhere. I’m lucky I didn’t get dengue!”

Style pulled his wrist free from Fadel’s grip, his eyes glassy from the beer, but he looked up at Fadel with a lighthearted smile that made it clear he wasn’t actually upset.

Fadel said nothing more. Talking to Style, who didn’t make much sense when he was like this, would just lead to more nonsense. He sat down on the same sofa, intending to continue drinking, if not for Style suddenly shifting over to sit on the same side and leaning in close, sniffing the air.
…....

“There’s a smell of cigarette smoke.”

“Back off.” Fadel swallowed hard again. Since the shop was closed, he didn’t turn on all the lights, only the soft orange light where he and Style were sitting. When the warm light fell on the eyes of the person he was looking at, those light-colored, round pupils seemed to sparkle with something.

“You go running every morning, trying to be health-conscious, but you drink heavily and smoke cigarettes. You’re quite the contradiction, aren’t you?”

“When I’m drunk, I just sleep. I promise I won’t throw you outside the store tonight.”

“Why the sudden kindness?”

“Well... today you helped me watch the shop.” Saying this, he lifted his beer to take a sip. Fadel wasn’t sure if he had ever heard his own voice in this tone before. It was soft, shy, and when he spoke, he seemed unsure. He wasn’t sure when Style had turned off the music; perhaps it was when he got up to talk to Keen.

“Isn’t it that you like me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting strangely nice and it seems like you’re jealous of me and my friends too.”

“Back off…”

You like me. My charm isn’t small at all. Fadel... you definitely like me.

“Alcohol makes you lose your inhibitions.” After saying this, one hand lifted to press against Fadel’s neck from behind. The lips crushed against the full, soft lips of Fadel. Because he was surprised, Fadel didn’t resist.

Someone like him wouldn’t have resisted unless he truly wanted to. By now, Style would probably be lying sprawled on the floor.
……
“If someone like him does not agree, Style's warm hands can never reach the root behind him. His sharp eyes, which had a fierce look, widened. Fadel grabbed Style's shoulders, pushed him away, and stared at the drunken person.

"I don't like you."

"Then what are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we having sex?"

"Don't... challenge me."

"I'm not. Or are you attracted to something about me being a man like you?"

"Style."

"Just lie still; I'll take good care of you." Style tried to push Fadel's tall body down, but no matter how hard he pushed, this giant didn't budge. Style blinked innocently, and a moment later, he found himself lying on his back on the soft cushion. Fadel spread his arms, hovering over him, but he didn't yet put his weight down. they stared at each other for a long moment. Style licked his lips, and the tip of his tongue made contact with the strange sensation of the same organ.

Fadel's weight came down on him, and his massive body pressed against the center of Style's body. Their lips were drawn together, and the tip of Style's tongue was sucked in as well. Fadel kissed like he was thirsty, drawing all the liquid from Style's mouth as his hands instinctively squeezed and groped, making the one being pleasured dizzy.

At one point, Fadel lifted Style's hips, and at that moment, Style realized that his pants had been removed. His buttocks rested on Fadel's strong thighs, exposing both Style's junior and the tightly sealed small passage behind.
…..
…..
"Wait a minute, this isn't right... He should be the one pinning Fadel under him for it to be correct.

The sex he meant... he thought he was supposed to be the one in control of the game. So why is Fadel suddenly the one in control now?

It's probably too late to say anything. Fadel's lovemaking wasn't gentle or soft. He spat saliva into the entrance, roughly inserting his fingers in and out. Style felt utterly dazed and confused about life.

But whatever, it is what it is. He had heard that a submissive could feel good too. Even though he wanted to be the one topping Fadel more, right now it seemed that wouldn't allow him to change. He sighed, trying to breathe in and out comfortably so it wouldn't hurt too much. Style thought he could control the situation until Fadel pulled out his large weapon.

Heaven... What sins did I commit in my past life? Damn it... how could it fit? Style couldn't help but compare the part that Fadel was stroking to make it hard with the part that was already hard in the middle of his body. The pride of knowing that his father loved him was shattered.

"What are you looking at?"

"I was just thinking about how it would feel when you start pushing in."

"Like this." Suddenly, he pressed his hot shaft against the entrance, forcing it into Style's passage with a single thrust. The one underneath him tensed and shivered. As he pushed further in, Style closed his eyes tight. Once he was in more than halfway, Fadel could see that Style had tears in his eyes, not even looking at him. He slapped hard at his arm, as if trying to push him away.

"It hurts a lot, Fadel. I'm trying to endure it, but..."

"You've never done it before?"
…..
"Um... never."

"Then why do you talk like you're an expert?" Fadel's voice rose for no reason. He bit his lower lip. If he had known he had never done it before... he would have been gentler.

"I'm an expert, just not in this."

"Smart(big) mouth. Should I just let you die here?"

"Why are you being so harsh? I'm already in pain, do you understand... Ugh."

Fadel didn't pull away, but he didn't push further either. He leaned down and kissed Style's lips, swallowing both his moans and complaints. When he pulled away from the kiss, his nose brushed against Style's fragrant neck. He pushed in a little more. Style looked like he was in pain but didn't ask him to stop.

It felt like taking advantage of the situation, even though the other person was drunk and teasing him.

"Have you ever had sex?"

...Actually, no.

"Not front or back.?"

"Ugh... don't joke about it."

"I'm not joking. Let's take it slow. If you had told me earlier, it wouldn't hurt this much."

"You talk like you've done this a lot."

"Why do others do things like this often while I'm the only one who hasn't? Ah... don't take advantage of me when I'm cursing and pushing in."

"I'm already all the way in."

Fadel's voice was very soft, but unfortunately, Style was in too much pain to hear it. He wrapped his arms around Fadel's waist, and their sweat and breaths mixed together in a mess.
……..
He sobered up completely, his mind filled only with the word "pain."

"Don't move just yet."

"Okay, let me know when it gets better."

"Kiss me."

"Have you ever kissed before?"

"Don't ask. No, I've never... not even once."

Style's voice had a whiny tone. He sniffled slightly from the pain in that area. Fadel kissed him as requested. There was no denying that the kiss felt really good. His chest felt warm, and he caught the faint smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol on Fadel. Fadel didn't just kiss him; his wicked hand also reached down to pull at him in front.

Before Style could even say he felt better or that it was okay, Fadel started to move. He began slowly and gently, but when Style let out a satisfied moan, the rhythm changed to something more intense.

The smart-mouthed person, who had talked nonsense, was now silent, only able to moan and say to go slower... or a little faster. Once the pain eased a bit, he lifted his hips to meet Fadel's thrusts. Their rhythms surprisingly synced well together.

Fadel wanted to break Style apart beneath him, but at the same time, he wanted to cherish and indulge him as well.

He had always believed that there was nothing in this world he couldn't control. Yet, it seemed that what he couldn't control was finally manifesting.

At this moment, that very thing was pinned beneath him. It was clear that he couldn't control his feelings for Style at all….
………………………………..

Note: ok if i don't fall asleep i will do one more chapter if not 4 (9,10,11,12) chapters will be updated tomorrow 😭🫶🏻 i didn't get any sleep at all as usual have any typo please ignore and enjoy and i saw everyone's comments thank you so much it motivated me to keep going on...