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...
A/N - I got very carried away with this chapter and managed to write a collosal 6.4k words. It's long keep that in mind.
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The tension in the room is suffocating.
You could cut it with a knife. Hell, you could take a blunt spoon to it and still carve out thick, steaming chunks of whatever the fuck this atmosphere has become.
By the time Yang finally detaches himself from Hwang—lips slightly swollen, eyes dark with something too smug for my liking—my entire body is a disaster.
Heat surges through my veins, pooling low in my stomach, and I hate it. I hate that I'm reacting like this. Hate that every nerve in my body is on fire, not with anger like it should be, but with something far, far worse.
I am not proud of it.
In fact, I would rather gouge out my own eyes with a rusted fork than acknowledge the fact that watching that did something to me.
Metaphorically speaking.
...Probably.
I shift uncomfortably, realizing I'm somehow even hotter than I was when I spent the entire day hauling shit around like a pack mule. A thin trickle of sweat slides down my spine, and I resist the urge to scrub my hands over my face in frustration.
Because now, somehow, against all logic and reason, the need for Hwang has just skyrocketed into dangerous, uncharted territory.
As if holding myself back from him before wasn't already a goddamn struggle.
I barely get a second to process my internal breakdown before movement catches my eye.
Lee.
Without a word, without so much as a single sound, he pushes himself up and stalks off toward the bathroom.
The door swings shut behind him with a little too much force.
Yang, now sitting smugly in his spot, watches him go—practically vibrating with satisfaction. His smile is slow and satisfied, like a cat that just knocked a priceless vase off the counter on purpose.
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.
This wasn't just some spontaneous, heat-of-the-moment dare fulfillment.
This was for Lee.
To get to Lee.
And judging by the way Lee just fled the room like it was on fire, it fucking worked.
But before I can even fully wrap my head around that mess, something else sends a cold shock down my spine.
I glance back at Hwang.
And he's staring at me.
Not just staring—studying. His expression is eerily similar to Yang's, that same smug, knowing little smirk curling at the edges of his lips.
