HIS BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND.

Lino had only meant to grab a snack.

Instead, he slammed right into a wall of muscle.

Or-no. Not a wall. *Him.*

Chan.

Broad chest. Heavy breath. Pitch-black stare.

Lino froze, heart stuttering violently.

"Going somewhere?" Chan asked, voice low, sharp-like silk pulled over a blade.

"I-I was just..." Lino's voice was barely a whisper. He looked anywhere but at Chan, his lashes fluttering, lips trembling. "J-just hungry..."

"You always look like you're about to run," Chan muttered, stepping closer. "Yet you never do."

He shouldn't have stepped closer. But he did.
And now the heat of him was unbearable.

"W-what are you-" Lino barely got the words out.

But Chan's hand was already at his waist, fingers splayed over the dip of his side, thumb brushing skin.

"You wore these shorts again."
A smirk. A single, slow drag of his eyes down Lino's thighs.
"You like what it does to me?"

Lino's lips parted, but no sound came out. He couldn't lie. Couldn't breathe. His body was betraying him-and Chan knew it.

Chan leaned down, breath hot at Lino's ear.

"Tell me to stop."

Lino said nothing. Just shivered.

"Didn't think so."

He was supposed to ignore him.
Not watch him with flushed cheeks and trembling fingers.
Not crave the way those veiny hands felt around his soft thighs.
Not let him in-under his skin, under his clothes, under his breath.

Bang Chan was danger wrapped in muscle, dominance, and low-voiced threats.
And Lino? Too shy. Too soft. Too easy to ruin.

But when night falls and the tension burns too hot to breathe through,
They cross a line neither of them planned to revisit.

Was it just lust?
Or are they about to destroy everything pretending it was?