Lee Kangjoo almost never used condoms. Maybe he had developed a taste for finishing with his own hand, but no matter how many times Haejun begged, he always ended up coming inside him.

No matter how many times it happened, Haejun could never get used to the humiliation. Even when he weakly resisted, squeezing his thighs together, Kangjoo easily grabbed his ass and forced it apart. He toyed with the swollen hole, pushed his middle finger inside, and let the semen pooled within leak out. Every time that happened, all Haejun could do was cling to Kangjoo’s arm and endure the shameful moment.

Kangjoo watched Haejun—who looked like he might burst into tears at any moment—and stirred the finger inside him. Even though no more semen was coming out, he said the sticky sensation wasn’t bad.

“I’ll wash you too.”

Haejun couldn’t just keep being the one taken care of, so he squeezed soap onto a shower sponge, saying he would wash Kangjoo as well. He scrubbed along the long arms, then across his chest, and as his hand moved down toward the stomach, he saw Kangjoo’s cock standing rigid beneath those firm abs.

“Why did you stop?”

“...It’s just...”

“I said I won’t put it in. Keep going.”

It seemed the nosebleed earlier had bothered him more than he let on. Truthfully, Haejun didn’t have the courage to go another round either. This time it wouldn’t just end with a nosebleed—he’d probably pass out. He would be groaning in pain for at least two days.

True to his word, Kangjoo didn’t pounce on Haejun again. At the end he stood under cold water for quite a while, though that was after he had already sent Haejun out of the bathroom.

By the time they lay down in bed it was around three in the morning. Haejun was so exhausted that even lifting his eyelids felt like labor. He almost fell asleep instantly, but the sound of Kangjoo getting dressed jolted him awake.

“You’re leaving?”

Even to his own ears, the disappointment in his voice could have filled a river. He had tried not to show it, but his exhaustion let his true feelings slip out.

“It’s already so late...”

Haejun glanced at the clock and looked back up at Kangjoo. He didn’t want to send him away yet. He wasn’t even hoping to sleep in his arms. He simply wanted them to stay in the same space until morning came. It was a very modest wish.

“Then... would you like to smoke one cigarette before you go?”

The late hour and his tired body were the problem. When night grew deep, emotions outweighed reason, and when you were drained, words slipped out before passing through your thoughts.

He hadn’t realized it before, but it seemed that never getting to see Kangjoo finish smoking that cigarette by the sea had lingered in the back of his mind. That must have been why the suggestion popped out as if it had been waiting.

Back then he had held back, saying it wasn’t proper to smoke carelessly in front of an adult. But now the desperate urge to see Kangjoo for even one minute /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ longer came first. Manners and propriety didn’t matter.

“I suddenly feel like having one too.”

He slapped his cheeks lightly to chase away his drowsiness. Afraid Kangjoo might just leave, he hurriedly got dressed. Kangjoo only let out a small laugh at the sight and then opened the front door without another word. He didn’t seem to dislike the idea.

The deep night was silent. Even the smoking area, where someone was usually wandering around, was empty. Haejun shivered as the cold air slipped through his coat.

For a moment he wondered if he might freeze to death while smoking.

Suddenly something heavy dropped over his shoulders. A coat.

When Haejun looked up in confusion, Kangjoo was calmly taking out a cigarette.

“Put it on.”

“I’m fine. You’ll be cold, so you should wear it.”

“Just listen and don’t get another nosebleed.”

Haejun paused halfway through trying to pull the coat off. Kangjoo didn’t look cold at all. The chill that felt biting to Haejun seemed like nothing more than a cool autumn breeze to him. Instead of breath, faint smoke flowed from between his sharply defined lips.

“I’m not that weak... seriously. I don’t even get nosebleeds normally.”

Except when he got punched, things like this never happened. Getting a nosebleed during sex... If things kept going like this, dying in bed might not be such a distant future after all.

“You look weak. You’re always getting sick.”

“No, that’s because you’re too—!”

It felt incredibly unfair. Haejun had sold his body to many clients before, but never once had anyone pushed him like this. Some people had bold tastes, sure, but they were always within a range he could control.

But not Lee Kangjoo.

Control, my ass. His strength, the stimulation, the pleasure—every time they had sex, Haejun was like a tiny boat caught in a raging storm, tossed helplessly back and forth. It felt as if he would shatter against the waves Kangjoo created and eventually sink into the depths of the sea.

His voice rose without meaning to. At night it seemed to travel farther and faster than during the day. Realizing it, Haejun quickly lowered his voice and took out a cigarette to calm himself.

But the moment it touched his lips, Kangjoo snatched it away with long fingers.

“You get weak because you smoke things like this. Don’t smoke.”

Said the man who was far more delinquent himself. Haejun stared at him in bewilderment, but Kangjoo simply snapped the cigarette in half and tossed it into the trash. Then he calmly enjoyed his own, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

The nerve of him.

Still, it was the sight Haejun had wanted to see.

“I’m an adult too.”

“I know.”

Of course he did. The person he had just been rolling around in bed with was hardly some kid without an ID. Haejun tried to insist that he was legally old enough to smoke, but Kangjoo ignored him completely.

“Quit. Cigarettes don’t suit Cha Haejun.”

“You’re smoking them yourself...”

Come to think of it, when Haejun had tried to jump off the bridge, Kangjoo had even lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth. Now suddenly he had changed his attitude. Haejun pouted slightly in complaint.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and toyed with the cigarette pack, but didn’t take one out. Even if he did, Kangjoo would just stop him again. Instead, he secretly pulled the collar of Kangjoo’s coat closer to his nose and inhaled deeply.

The faint scent he had smelled while clinging to him in bed drifted up again.

It was deep and rich—like dried wood or leather, like the air inside a small cozy cabin where a fireplace crackled softly.

Haejun kept glancing at Kangjoo. The hollow of his cheeks as he drew in smoke, the misty vapor slipping from his lips—everything etched itself into Haejun’s vision.

Especially those lips.

Was simply smoking a cigarette supposed to look this obscene?

Haejun swallowed.

He wanted to kiss him.

He wanted to rush at him like a madman.

Not to mix their bodies again—just to devour those lips endlessly.

He was certain that alone would be enough to push him to climax. Body and mind both.

Perhaps he had noticed Haejun’s gaze licking over him like a pervert, because Kangjoo turned his head. Their eyes met in midair.

Haejun snapped his head away with lightning speed, but it was already too late. Kangjoo let out an amused laugh, and Haejun’s ears flushed red.

“What are you staring at like that? Are you hungry?”

“Huh?”

“You’re looking at me like that.”

Half right.

More precisely, he was hungry for Kangjoo’s lips rather than food.

Caught completely off guard, Haejun scratched his chin awkwardly without saying anything. It wasn’t a crime, but being caught by the person himself made it embarrassing.

Kangjoo tossed away the half-smoked cigarette without hesitation. The last mouthful of smoke he exhaled to the opposite side of Haejun.

Haejun had offered the cigarette because he wanted to stay together even a second longer, but in the end it was only a fleeting moment. He wanted more time. If possible, tomorrow, the day after, even the day after that—he wanted to cling to Kangjoo’s side and never leave.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

Clutching Kangjoo’s coat tightly in one hand, Haejun asked.

Once again, the question slipped out without passing through his thoughts.

He should have worn an expression that said he didn’t mind if Kangjoo left. But instead, as Yohan had once described, he looked up at him like a puppy abandoned in a storm. The desperate longing he should have hidden was written all over his face.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday too... of course, if you’re okay with it.”

Instead of confessing that he liked him.

Just this much—because he wanted the first thing he saw when he woke up to be Kangjoo.

Haejun deliberately lowered his head and kicked the ground lightly with his toes. Kangjoo would refuse. He was the kind of person who preferred the comfort of his own home. Even thinking about it filled him with disappointment, but he still wanted to appear composed.

He braced himself and waited.

“Sure.”

An unexpected answer came back.

Haejun’s eyes widened as he looked up. A smile he couldn’t hide broke across his lips, his entire face lighting up with joy.

“Really?”

“I probably wouldn’t sleep much even if I went home anyway.”

For a moment Haejun almost threw his arms around him like he did with Yohan. His arms spread wide instinctively before he suddenly remembered the person in front of him was Lee Kangjoo.

He froze.

“You did the same thing earlier when you said you’d wash me. You keep starting things and stopping halfway. If you start something, finish it.”

“...Is it really okay?”

“How did you manage to have sex all this time?”

It was a reproach for hesitating over something as simple as a hug when they had done far more intimate things. At that, Haejun carefully stepped forward.

He buried himself in Kangjoo’s broad chest and boldly wrapped his arms around his waist.

Apparently Kangjoo hadn’t been lying about not feeling cold. Even through the coat and layers of clothing, the warmth of his body felt like a bonfire. Haejun, who had been shivering moments ago, instinctively burrowed deeper into that warmth.

That cozy scent unique to Kangjoo surrounded him.

If he could stay tangled like this forever—even if he died like this—Haejun truly felt he would have no regrets.