He groans into my mouth, and I use that moment to push back, trying to take control again. But Han is stronger than he looks, and for once, he's not letting me win.
"Frustrated?" he murmurs between kisses, smirking against my lips.
I bite at his jaw...
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Fine, maybe I do want this. Hell, I want it a lot more than I'd admit. God knows it's a lot easier to drown in Hyunjin's touch than let myself think about everything hanging over me.
This... arrangement we've got? It's good, efficient. Nothing complicated. Just Hyunjin and me letting loose, easing up from everything we're each too stubborn to face. Or, if I'm honest, everything I'm too afraid to want. He's a damn good distraction, though, and right now, I'm happy to let him be just that. Especially tonight. It's obvious Han has done something to piss him off—again. And when Hyunjin is angry, he's on fire.
Not that I'm complaining. If anything, Han's unwittingly doing me a favor. My sheets have practically melted from the friction alone, and Hyunjin's grip bruises like he's never leaving. And maybe he's not—because for once, I know exactly where his mind is. It's on Han, the way he seems to see straight through his carefully crafted, icy mask, to the beast he hides under layers of barely-concealed rage and desire. But that rage? It's my gift tonight, every last thread of it tearing into me as he thrusts harder, fingers digging like he's carving words in my skin. Maybe he is. Maybe we're both pretending, picturing someone else. I know I am.
See, Hyunjin's got Han in his bones, even if he won't admit it. I've watched them lock eyes across rooms, and it's like they're daring each other to make the first move, almost as if they're each waiting to see who'll be the first to snap. Me? I get to be the convenient middle ground. But I'm hardly innocent here—I've got my own mess of unspoken things. Chris. Don't think I haven't noticed that. Maybe that's why I let myself get swept up in this storm with Hyunjin, letting myself break a little every time he drags me back from my thoughts with a hiss, his teeth pressed hard enough into my neck that I know it'll bruise.
He's relentless tonight. Each roll of his hips, every bruising kiss feels laced with something barely tethered. His rhythm speeds up again, dragging me from the dangerous haze I'd drifted into. I grit my teeth, holding back a groan, because, of course, that would give him exactly the satisfaction he's fishing for. And when his breath catches—"You close?"—the words practically slice through me, stirring something primal that I can't push down. I bite my lip, nodding, and he meets it with a reckless grin that's all teeth and anger.
I don't mean to think of Chris right now, but I do. Maybe it's the way Hyunjin's scent clings to me, so starkly different from Chris's—Chris's warmth that somehow crawls into your skin and makes you think it'll stay. But I can't let that in. Not now. Not when I know exactly where it'll lead. And I can't be torn up again by someone who's halfway out the door, still tethered to a life he's barely sure he wants. But even as I try to shove him from my mind, I feel it. The burn, the bitter hint of jealousy tearing at me, gnawing deep down as Hyunjin pushes me right over the edge, leaving me shuddering, gasping as I drown in my release.
"Fuck," I breathe, the room spinning as I slump against the mattress, feeling his bite marks sear into my skin like hot coal. He holds there a moment, his weight grounding me as he shudders in his own release, pulling out with a sharp exhale. The connection breaks with him gone, slipping to the bathroom to handle the aftermath, his footsteps echoing like some haunting reminder of how temporary this is. The condom drops into the bin on the way, the door creaks, and I lie there alone, staring at the ceiling.
