The hum of the sedan was low, steady, and far too intimate for Min Yu's comfort.
He sat rigidly in the passenger seat, fingers twisting in his lap, heartbeat refusing to settle. Beside him, Baek Hoa drove with the quiet precision of someone who could command a company or start a war—no difference to him.
The city lights washed over his sharp profile.
Cold. Beautiful.
Dangerously controlled.
Min Yu finally gathered courage.
"You didn't have to drive me," he murmured.
"I wanted to," Hoa replied simply.
Min Yu swallowed. "…Why?"
Hoa didn't answer at first. He flicked his gaze toward Min Yu—just a fraction, just long enough to make Min Yu feel bare and breakable—before returning his focus to the road.
"You interest me," he said quietly. "More than I expected."
The words sent a ripple through Min Yu's chest.
"That's not a reason," Min Yu whispered.
Hoa smirked faintly, tapping his fingers once against the steering wheel.
"It is to me."
Min Yu turned to face the window, heat prickling along his neck.
Why was he reacting this strongly to a man he'd met only hours ago?
Why did Hoa's presence feel like gravity itself—cold, impossible to escape, and quietly consuming?
---
The Near-Accident
They were halfway across the bridge when it happened.
A motorcycle shot out from a side lane—its rider drunk, reckless, unpredictable—swerving directly into their path.
"Watch out!" Min Yu gasped.
Hoa jerked the wheel sharply.
The sedan skidded.
Brakes screamed.
The world lurched.
Min Yu's body pitched forward.
Hoa's arm shot out, grabbing him—pulling him hard against his chest as the car fishtailed.
The tires slammed back into grip.
The sedan jolted to a halt.
Silence.
Min Yu's breath trembled, shallow and frantic, his face pressed against the solid warmth of Hoa's shoulder.
Hoa didn't let go.
His hand remained firmly around Min Yu's waist, fingers splayed possessively as if confirming he was unhurt.
"Are you okay?" Hoa's voice was low—rougher than before, shaken at the edges.
Min Yu nodded against him, unable to speak.
Hoa exhaled shakily against Min Yu's hair.
The cold CEO mask cracked—fractured—revealing something dark and aching underneath.
Slowly, Min Yu lifted his head. Their faces were too close. Far too close.
Min Yu felt Hoa's breath brush his lips.
And Hoa… didn't move away.
His gaze dropped—unmistakably—to Min Yu's mouth.
Min Yu's heart thrashed.
"H-Hoa…" he whispered, unsure whether it was a warning or plea.
Hoa's grip tightened.
His thumb brushed Min Yu's waist, barely a touch but enough to set fire to every nerve in his body.
"Don't say my name like that," Hoa murmured. "You'll make me forget myself."
For a moment—long, heavy, trembling—they hovered at the edge of something forbidden.
Hoa leaned in—
And Min Yu froze.
The spell shattered.
Hoa stopped just short, jaw tightening as he forced himself to pull away.
"You're safe now." His voice was calm again, but his hands betrayed him—they lingered too long on Min Yu's sides before he let go.
Min Yu stared at him, breath shaky.
That almost-kiss had burned them both.
---
Temptations games
The car rolled forward again, the city lights drifting past like shards of broken glass.
Neither Min Yu nor Baek Hoa spoke. Not after what almost happened.
Not after Min Yu's lips had hovered so close to Hoa's that the air between them felt molten.
Min Yu's pulse still hadn't settled.
The warmth of Hoa's arm around his waist lingered like a brand.
His body remembered—too clearly—the sensation of being pulled against that broad chest during the near accident.
He shouldn't have liked it.
But he had.
---
The Pull That Shouldn't Be
They reached the quiet edge of Min Yu's neighborhood.
Hoa didn't stop the car right away.
Instead, he eased into a dark spot beneath an overgrown tree and shifted into park.
The sudden silence was suffocating.
"Hoa…" Min Yu whispered.
Hoa turned toward him. Slowly. Deliberately.
"You scared me," Hoa said softly.
Min Yu blinked. "…Me?"
"When the motorcycle swerved."
Hoa's jaw tightened, voice low and uneven.
"I thought—I thought I was going to watch you get hurt."
Min Yu's breath caught.
He'd never imagined someone like Baek Hoa—cold, untouchable—could sound shaken.
"Hoa," he murmured again, softer. "I'm fine."
"No." Hoa leaned in closer. "You aren't. Not in the life you live. Not with the weight you carry alone."
Min Yu swallowed. "What weight?"
Hoa hesitated—like he was choosing which truth to reveal and which to keep locked behind his elegant mask.
"Your jobs. Your studies. Your grandmother's illness." His voice lowered. "You don't have anyone to lean on, do you?"
Min Yu stiffened.
"…How do you know all of that?"
Hoa didn't blink.
"I had someone look into you."
Shock rippled through Min Yu.
"You… you hired an investigator?"
Hoa didn't flinch. "Yes."
"That's— that's invasive." Min Yu's voice trembled with hurt, not anger. "Why would you do that?"
Hoa leaned closer, his grip tightening subtly on the leather seat.
"Because I couldn't stop thinking about you."
The admission hung in the air like smoke.
Min Yu froze.
"You looked at me once," Hoa continued, voice rough, "and something in me—something I can't explain—reacted."
The intensity of it struck Min Yu to his core.
It scared him.
It drew him in anyway.
"Hoa…" he breathed.
Hoa reached out slowly, giving Min Yu the chance to move away.
Min Yu didn't.
The back of Hoa's fingers grazed Min Yu's cheek—light, warm, trembling with a restraint that felt anything but controlled.
Min Yu's breath trembled.
His body leaned toward that touch like it had been waiting for it.
"Tell me to stop," Hoa whispered.
Min Yu couldn't.
---
The Almost Kiss
Hoa's hand slid to Min Yu's jaw, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.
Min Yu inhaled sharply—his lips parting just enough for Hoa's breath to glide over them.
Their faces were close—too close—and every cell in Min Yu's body pulled taut, aching for contact he wasn't sure he should want.
"Hoa…" Min Yu whispered again.
"Say my name like that one more time," Hoa murmured, "and I will do something I won't apologize for."
Min Yu's heart stuttered.
His eyes fluttered half-shut.
He didn't move away.
Hoa closed the last inch between them—slowly, agonizingly—until their lips brushed.
Not a kiss.
Barely a touch.
Just the ghost of one.
It sent a shiver through Min Yu so sharp he nearly made a sound.
Hoa exhaled shakily, forehead resting against Min Yu's.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured.
Min Yu's fingers found the edge of Hoa's sleeve—tentative, trembling—curling into it.
"Hoa…"
This time, it sounded like surrender.
Hoa's restraint cracked.
He cupped Min Yu's face with both hands, breath hot against his mouth, lips skimming in a way that made Min Yu's entire body pull forward—
Just as Hoa's nose brushed along Min Yu's cheek in a slow, intimate slide, Min Yu exhaled a soft, helpless sound he couldn't take back.
Hoa froze.
Then his grip tightened, drawing Min Yu in until their bodies touched from hip to shoulder.
He pressed his mouth to Min Yu's cheek, jaw, the corner of his lips—soft but desperate, each contact a question neither of them dared answer fully.
Min Yu shuddered, fingers twisting in Hoa's shirt now, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.
Hoa's breath hitched.
"Min Yu… if you don't stop me…"
His lips grazed Min Yu's jaw again.
"…I won't be able to."
Min Yu swallowed—barely.
"I… don't want you to stop," he breathed.
Hoa made a low sound in his throat—half growl, half plea—and angled Min Yu's face toward his.
Their lips met.
Soft at first.
Testing.
But the moment Min Yu kissed back—just the smallest movement—Hoa's control shattered.
He deepened the kiss—slow, hungry, devastating—his hand sliding to the back of Min Yu's neck, pulling him closer.
Min Yu gasped against his mouth.
Hoa swallowed the sound greedily, kissing him again—fuller, hotter—until Min Yu was breathless.
Heat coiled between them, sharp and unbearable.
"Hoa—" Min Yu gasped when they parted for breath.
Hoa's forehead pressed to his.
His hands trembled where they held Min Yu's waist.
"Tell me this isn't a mistake," he whispered, pleading and dangerous at once.
Min Yu's voice trembled.
"It doesn't feel like one."
Hoa's lips brushed his again—soft, reverent, like a promise.
"Then I don't care what happens next," Hoa whispered. "I'm not letting you slip away."
Min Yu's breath hitched.
Hoa's hand slid under the hem of Min Yu's shirt—
Just enough to feel warm skin.
Just enough to make Min Yu gasp and arch instinctively.
Hoa sucked in a sharp breath.
"Min Yu…"
His voice broke.
And just as the moment was about to tip into something deeper—
A loud knock on the car window shattered everything.
Min Yu jerked violently.
Hoa cursed under his breath, pulling back but not letting go.
A security guard tapped the glass again.
"Sir? You can't park here."
Min Yu flushed scarlet.
Hoa grit his teeth, expression thunderous.
The moment was gone.
Interrupted.
Broken.
But the damage—
The shift—
The hunger—
All of it lingered.
---
The Unraveling
Hoa drove him the rest of the way in silence—jaw tense, hand gripping the wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
At Min Yu's building, he stepped out first.
He shouldn't.
He should run upstairs and pretend none of that had happened.
But he lingered.
Hoa stepped out too.
They stood on the sidewalk, staring at each other.
Min Yu spoke first, voice trembling.
"Hoa… what was that?"
Hoa stepped closer—slow, deliberate, heat still simmering beneath his skin.
"A mistake," Hoa whispered.
Then added, deadly soft—
"One I fully intend to repeat."
Min Yu's breath stopped.
Hoa's fingers brushed his wrist—light, lingering, electric.
"This isn't over," Hoa murmured, eyes fixed on his.
"Not even close."
Min Yu watched him leave, legs barely holding him upright, lips still tingling from the kiss that should not have happened.
Inside the car, Hoa gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked.
And whispered to the empty night:
"I'm already losing control."