Almost blind | Haobin

🔞49| Until It Doesn't Feel Like Pretending |49🔞

‼️TW: the whole chp is smut actually‼️

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"Hao, you can't be serio—"
But Hanbin’s words were smothered, devoured by another kiss. Hao’s lips crashed into his like a wave breaking against stubborn rocks, silencing everything—every protest, every thought. The taste of him, warm and aching, pulled Hao under like an undertow.

He was already too far gone. Entangled. Drenched in the heat of this closeness, in the quick rhythm of Hanbin’s heartbeat thudding beneath his chest like a trapped bird desperate for freedom. The air between them was thick—charged, hot, alive.

He should’ve cared that he was sick. Just hours ago, he’d been curled up in pain, his head pounding like war drums and his throat too dry to swallow. But now? Now his skin felt feverish in a different way. His body ached for something else entirely. It was hunger—not for food, not for rest, but for this. For him.

He didn’t know he could feel like this. So powerful, yet trembling inside. Hao had always been the one forced down, his body treated like an object, his voice erased under Julson’s breath and Yujin’s arrogance. Their hands had never touched him—seen him—with care. Just possession.

Julson’s eyes had haunted him even when they were closed. Those hands that groped, grabbed, hurt—leaving behind bruises shaped like silence. Yujin’s "no means yes" poisoned his trust like a slow drip. And now… now Hanbin was under him, vulnerable but willing, soft but not afraid. He could take the lead easily—but he didn’t.

And that made Hao feel something new. Something that buzzed in his veins like electricity.

Control. Safety. Want.

He stripped his clothes with feverish hands, urgency clinging to him like sweat. His breath came short and sharp as his bare skin met Hanbin’s again. He straddled him, skin-to-skin, like some beautiful ghost reborn under touch. Hanbin’s breath hitched—sharp, audible—and that alone made Hao’s pulse spike.

In the dim light, Hao’s slender body glowed like porcelain kissed by candlelight. Fragile, yes, but also forged in fire. A history written in shadows along his spine and etched in the way his hips moved without hesitation. He bit down on his own lip, half to keep quiet, half because even the anticipation of what could come made his nerves light up like stars.

Maybe this would ruin them. Maybe they’d wake up tomorrow, or an hour later, and regret every second.
Or maybe... maybe this would be the first thing in his life that didn’t break him.

Because with Hanbin—he always felt like this. Like he wasn’t being used, but seen.

Even as kids, every accidental touch had felt too familiar. Too vivid. Like their bodies remembered something their minds had forgotten.

And now, Hao leaned forward, hands pressed against Hanbin’s chest, feeling the solid rise and fall beneath him. His back arched instinctively, and his face brushed against Hanbin’s again, his breath stirring the air between them. He watched that shirt tied around Hanbin’s eyes... Hanbin couldn’t see him. Couldn’t study him. Couldn’t ruin it with pity or fear.

In the dark, with no eyes on him... Hao finally felt free.

Hao rolled his hips forward—slowly, hesitantly—as if testing whether this was still real. Hanbin’s lips parted with a soft gasp beneath him, his blindfolded eyes wide though sightless. His hands gripped the sheets, the only anchor in this slow-burning collapse between them. That sound, that raw edge of surrender—it shot straight through Hao like lightning.

It was just teasing friction—crotch against crotch—yet it sparked something deep and electric between them, making both of them arch into each other, aching for more.