Wrong Script, Right Love-Chapter 177: Dangerously Gentle

[Renji’s POV—Hayato Kurosawa’s Mansion—Later]

The bedroom door slammed shut behind us.

Before I could even draw a breath, Hayato’s hand was at my waist, guiding me back until my shoulders met the wall. The impact wasn’t harsh—but it stole the air from my lungs anyway.

His lips found mine.

Deep.

Urgent.

Like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

"Hn—"

The sound slipped out of me as his kiss pressed closer, warmer, his breath uneven against my mouth. I felt his fingers tug at his tie impatiently, loosening it with a sharp pull, fabric sliding free like a restraint finally giving way.

Then—He stopped.

Just like that.

His forehead rested against mine, breath still heavy, chest rising and falling as he looked at me—not rushed now, not consuming. Just... tender.

His hand lifted slowly, thumb brushing over my cheek, tracing warmth there like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t touch me.

"...You’re so beautiful, Renji," he murmured.

Heat rushed straight to my face.

"H-Hayato..." I whispered.

He smiled—soft, fond, utterly disarming.

"You’re cute," he said gently.

Then, almost to himself, quieter—"...Too cute."

My heart thundered. He leaned in again, but this time his kisses weren’t urgent. One brushed my right cheek. Then my left. Then the tip of my nose—light, teasing—before his lips pressed briefly at my chin.

Each touch made my breath stutter.

"Hn..."

I let out a soft sound, fingers tightening around his wrist as if to steady myself.

"Should I..." I swallowed, suddenly aware of how close we were, how warm. "...Should I go wash up?"

He tilted his head slightly.

"Wash up?" he repeated, amused.

"I’m... all sweaty from all the work today," I admitted, cheeks burning.

A slow smirk curved his lips. He leaned closer, voice dropping near my ear, breath warm enough to make me shiver.

"Then maybe," he whispered, "I should help you."

My breath caught as he continued, "We’ll save water."

I froze.

Then I immediately looked away, face burning.

Gosh... he’s dangerous.

His quiet laugh followed—low, slow, pleased—vibrating against me like a warning I didn’t heed. His thumb brushed my jaw again, unhurried and grounding, as if he had all the time in the world and I had none.

I pushed at his chest, just enough to breathe. "Let... let me do it alone."

He chuckled softly and stepped back, palms raised in mock surrender. "As you wish. I will be waiting here."

I fled to the bathroom like it was a battlefield retreat, shutting the door harder than necessary. My pulse thundered as I turned the water on, steam rising almost instantly. I told myself he wouldn’t follow. He wouldn’t.

I was wrong.

Foam slid over my skin as I scrubbed in frantic circles—shoulders, arms, everywhere—trying to wash away the heat pooling too low, too fast.

"Renji, you’re taking too much ti—"

The door opened.

The air shifted.

I froze.

He stood there, filling the doorway, gaze dark and unapologetic. "Hayato— you just cannot—"

He smirked and stepped inside, already tugging his shirt free, movements unhurried and deliberate. The fabric hit the floor like punctuation.

"You don’t need to scrub yourself hard, my love," he said quietly, coming closer. Too close.

"You still smell good and seductive right now." He reached out and brushed foam from my cheek with his thumb, eyes never leaving mine.

I gulped.

"Can I touch you?" His voice dropped, rough around the edges. "Are you ready to take what I’m about to give? The Pain?"

My throat tightened. Fear and anticipation tangled until I couldn’t tell them apart.

"Yes..." I breathed.

That was all it took.

His mouth claimed mine again, and there was nothing gentle about the promise in that kiss. It was slow and possessive—meant to undo, not soothe.

"Mmph—"

The sound slipped out before I could stop it. The scrubber fell from my fingers, forgotten.

He broke the kiss suddenly—and in one swift motion, he lifted me, water and steam and thought left behind. The bathroom disappeared in a rush of air as he carried me out and laid me down on the bed with care that contradicted the fire in his eyes.

I didn’t speak.

The moment didn’t ask for words.

It hummed—intimate, dangerous—thick with intent. My gaze drifted, catching something on the desk nearby, its presence loud even in silence.

An XXL condom.

When did he even buy that?

My breath hitched, not out of fear, but because in this body...as Renji...it was the first time.

He hovered over me, shadow and heat, brushing his forehead to mine.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, voice low and steady. "I won’t break you. I will be very good and be gentle."

The promise sent a shiver straight through me. Then his mouth traced closer, not quite a kiss—just the soft drag of his tongue along my lips, teasing, asking.

"Ah..." The sound slipped out before I could stop it.

My hands found him instinctively, fingers curling into his back as he dipped lower around my nipples, and then...LICK!!!

He licked my nipples, and his attention was slow and deliberate, as if he wanted me aware of every second. His touch was warm, steady, and unhurried—one hand grounding me at the right side of my nipple while the other explored through his tongue just enough to make my breath stutter.

"Hayato..." My voice broke. "Ah—hah..."

He lifted my legs easily, his thighs settling between them, his presence undeniable. I reacted without thinking, spreading my legs for him, my ankles locking around his waist as if my body already knew what it wanted.

"Hngh... ahh..."

He didn’t rush.

Instead, he trailed downward, unhurried, his breath brushing my skin until it made me squirm. When his tongue circled my navel, light and playful, I gasped despite myself.

"Hngh—ah... that tickles..."

He looked up at me then, eyes dark, mouth curved in a knowing smirk.

"That’s the point," he said softly.

The tension coiled tighter. I could feel it—everywhere. In the way my cock reacted, and in the way his did too, the space between us charged and inevitable.

He leaned back just enough to whisper, voice rough with restraint, "Still with me?"

I nodded, breathless.

"Yes..."

The corner of Hayato’s mouth curved into a smirk that tightened my gut. "Then first... loosen you up, okay?"

My pulse hammered so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Hayato stretched across the mattress, snatching the clear squeeze bottle from the side table. Lube sloshed inside, a thick, viscous promise. He flicked off the cap; soft click, metallic, inevitable. His gaze dipped below at my waist.

A shiver prickled up my spine. Hayato hooked strong arms under my knees, hoisting my legs into the air as easily as if lifting silk, leaving me open and exposed in front of Hayato.

"Renji..." My name rolled out low, commanding. "Hold your legs."

My hands shook as I obeyed, fingers gripping my thighs, opening myself to his gaze. Heat rushed to my face as his eyes lingered, slow and unashamed.

"Like... this?" I whispered.

Hayato smirked and looked at my twitching hole, saying, "That’s a good boy. I can see everything clearly now."

The words cracked through the hush. I barely had time to inhale before warm slickness spread around my cock and butthole.

My voice cracked, "That...that’s enough..."

But he didn’t listen; he just circled his hands around my cock, spreading the warm liquid around. My head fell back.

"Hnghh...!" A broken, helpless sound curled out of me, half protest, half plea. My thighs sagged wider; the stretch burned so good tears pressed at my lashes.

He leaned down, kissing my foot, then my ankle, reverent and possessive all at once.

"Easy," he murmured. "Breathe for me."

I tried. God, I tried.

"I’m going to start slow," he said quietly. "Tell me if it’s too much."

I nodded again, eyes glassy, trusting him far more than I should have. "Okay..."

And then...PUSH!!!

He pushed his one big middle finger inside my hole, thrusting, stretching, and opening wide.

The moment I felt him there, the slow stretch stealing my breath, every thought of taking it easy shattered.

"Hngh—!"

He caught the sound with his mouth, kissing me deeper, stealing the noise before it could turn into a plea. His touch was firm but controlled, moving with deliberate patience, as if he were memorizing every reaction, every tremor.

"Easy," he murmured against my lips. "Feel it. Don’t fight it."

"Hah... Hayato..." My voice came out broken, breath slipping everywhere as sensation bloomed and tightened all at once.

He stayed close, watching me—really watching—until my breathing evened, until my body stopped resisting and started answering him instead.

A satisfied hum left his throat as he looked down at my hole.

"That’s it," he said softly. "You’re opening up."

When he finally pulled back--POP!!!-- the absence made me whimper despite myself.

He reached for the condom without breaking eye contact, his movements calm and unhurried."If it gets too much," he said quietly, thumb brushing my skin, grounding me, "you tell me. I stop. Understand?"

I nodded, fingers trembling as I helped him, my pulse loud in my ears.

"Yes..."

His expression softened for just a second—something warm beneath the danger—before he leaned back over me, forehead resting against mine again.

"Good," he whispered. "Trust me."

And with that promise hanging heavy between us, the moment tipped—inevitable, consuming—pulling us both past the point of turning back.