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The bass throbbed in Hyunjin’s chest, a living heartbeat of Felix’s birthday bash. Lights, a psychedelic wash of neon, strobed through the dense crowd, catching on sequined jackets and glittering smiles. Laughter and shouted conversations blended into a joyful cacophony, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude Hyunjin usually sought after grueling photoshoots. He pushed through the throng, already feeling the familiar buzz of a party animal in his element, but also the slight edge of exhaustion.
“Hyunjin!”
The voice, bright and familiar, cut through the din. Hyunjin turned, a smile already forming as he spotted Felix, the birthday boy himself, radiating pure, unadulterated joy. He navigated the last few bodies, clutching a subtly wrapped gift.
“Idol! Happy Birthday! Here..” Hyunjin presented the sleek, designer watch.
Felix beamed, his freckles practically dancing. “Hyunjin, you shouldn’t have! But thank you, seriously.” He squeezed Hyunjin’s arm, passing him a tall, iridescent cocktail. “Here, try this. My special blend.”
Hyunjin took a long sip. The fruity sweetness hit first, followed by a warm, fiery kick that spread quickly through his throat and chest. “Hmm, so tasty!”
Felix puffed out his chest playfully. “Of course, I’m the one who chose it, HAHAHA! Anyway, please enjoy the rest of the night! Do let me know if you need anything, bro.”
“Will do, thanks, bro!” Hyunjin nodded, taking another fortifying gulp of the drink.
Freed from social obligations for a moment, Hyunjin drifted towards a less crowded corner, surveying the vibrant chaos. He reached into his pocket out of habit, feeling the familiar rectangular pack of cigarettes. Damn it, he realized, a wave of minor frustration washing over him. His lighter was back at his apartment. He was already craving the burn, the brief, calming escape.
Through a large bay window, he noticed a lone silhouette outside, leaning against a tree, a faint plume of smoke curling upwards. Without a second thought, driven by a primal nicotine urge, Hyunjin headed for the back door. The cool night air hit him, a welcome relief from the close heat of the party. As he approached, the wind carried the rich, smoky aroma, instantly wrapping around him. He felt a phantom itch in his throat, a Pavlovian response.
“Yo, can you light my cigarette, please?” Hyunjin called out, his voice slightly louder than intended due to the party still audible inside. He couldn’t make out the man’s features in the dim light, but all that mattered was the flame.
The man shifted, his silhouette still unyielding against the faint glow of the city. His voice, when it came, was a low, smooth baritone that sent an unexpected shiver down Hyunjin’s spine. “Sure, but on one condition.”
Hyunjin paused, his hand already reaching for his pack. “What?”
“Pretend to be my boyfriend for a few months.”
Hyunjin froze. His hand, mid-air, dropped slowly. He stared at the unmoving figure, trying to process the words. Was this some kind of joke? A pick-up line, perhaps? But the man’s tone was devoid of humor, utterly serious. He continued to take slow, deliberate drags from his cigarette, the tip glowing like a tiny, malevolent eye.
“What the—, are you serious? Only for a lighter??” Hyunjin finally blurted out, a bewildered laugh bubbling up. He was about to crack up, but this guy seemed dead earnest.
“Yes, I am dead serious,” the man replied, his voice unwavering.
Hyunjin still couldn't see his face, obscured by the deep shadow cast by the tree and the distant streetlights. He wasn't sure how to respond. The absurdity of it was baffling, yet... an intriguing thought wormed its way into his mind. The idea of seeming to be in a relationship with a mysterious stranger, a man who commanded such an undeniable gravity even in shadow, held a peculiar allure. It was wild, unexpected, a complete departure from his carefully curated public image.
“Hmmm, yeah, sure, why not?” Hyunjin considered it for a long moment, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions just enough, before deciding to accept the outlandish request.
“You’re not drunk at all, right?” the man asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone.
“I’m not. I just arrived here, sir, and you’re the second one who’s conversed with me,” Hyunjin retorted, slightly offended. “Now, please light my cigarette, my throat is already itching for it.”
As the man reached into his pocket for a lighter, Hyunjin positioned his cigarette between his lips, waiting for a lull in the gentle breeze. He watched, curiosity piqued, as the man’s fingers glinted in the dim light, and then, with a soft click, a small flame erupted. The light spilled across his face.
Hyunjin’s breath hitched.
It was Kim Seungmin. The enigmatic, dangerous, notorious CEO. The face that graced business magazines and tabloids alike, always with a piercing gaze and an aura of untouchable power. He was known for his vast, shadowy empire, whispered to have ties to the underworld, a ruthless reputation that preceded him wherever he went. Hyunjin had seen his photos, knew the face, but seeing him in person, illuminated by the flicker of a lighter, was an entirely different experience. Seungmin’s eyes, even in the low light, held an intensity that could pin you in place.
Who would have guessed that the guy I was speaking with was Kim Seungmin? Hyunjin thought, dumbfounded. Speaking of fame, I’m also famous, but getting to know him socially and asking him to light my cigarette is like a dream come true..
In an attempt to shield the flame from the wind, Seungmin leaned in slightly, his proximity sending another jolt through Hyunjin. The cigarette caught, glowing orange. Hyunjin took a slow, deep inhale, feeling the heat and the familiar rush enter his lungs. He pulled the cigarette out, exhaling a stream of smoke in the opposite direction.
“So, I didn’t get your name…” Hyunjin broke the silence, trying to sound nonchalant despite his racing heart.
“Seungmin,” the man answered, his eyes fixed on Hyunjin. “Kim Seungmin.”
“What about you?” he followed up, a slight smirk playing on his lips, as if he knew exactly who Hyunjin was.
“Ah, Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin confirmed, a flicker of irritation sparking. He definitely knows. “Are you really serious about what you’ve said earlier?” Hyunjin wasn't convinced by Seungmin's beforehand remarks. He was literally famous and rich, why did he need someone to play pretend?
Seungmin continued to smoke his last cigarette, a slow, deliberate act that seemed to mock Hyunjin’s internal turmoil. “I am very serious, Hyunjin.”
“But, why me? Just choosing a random fucker, huh?” Hyunjin couldn’t help but challenge him.
Seungmin finally crushed his cigarette beneath his heel, the sound sharp in the quiet night. He turned fully to face Hyunjin, and the faint light from the party now illuminated his features more clearly – sharp jawline, intense eyes, a subtle scar near his left eyebrow that bespoke of more than just boardroom battles.
“No, I was already gazing at you the moment you arrived here. Thought you might be perfect for my plans. I know you, Hyunjin. I knew you were friends with Felix, so I did some research about you. Turns out I was right,” Seungmin explained, a complacent, almost proud curve to his lips, while Hyunjin could only stare, confused and a little unnerved.
“What? You did some research? Tch, rich people and their shits…” Hyunjin scoffed, a nervous habit.
“Aren’t you rich, too?” Seungmin countered, his gaze unwavering.
Hyunjin blinked. He’d forgotten that Seungmin was different from him, that his flippant humor might not translate. He seriously didn’t understand Hyunjin’s humor? “Oh, we don’t have the same humor, huh…” Hyunjin chuckles, which left Seungmin in confusion.
“What’s your number? So that we could talk about the details,” Seungmin responded instead, clearly eager to move past the awkward exchange.
“Will I be paid for this?” Hyunjin jokingly asked, putting on an exaggerated, greedy face.
Seungmin let out a low, disbelieving scoff. “Do you want to? You’ll be lucky ‘cause you’ll have both me and my money.”
Hyunjin laughed at his reaction, a genuine, unrestrained sound. “No need, I’m already content with having you as my fake boyfriend,” Hyunjin tried out his flirting skills, enjoying the unexpected dynamic.
“That’s what I thought. I’ll go now, I’ll just text you, okay?” Seungmin said, already turning to leave.
“Yeah, bye, my fake lover,” Hyunjin teased, leaning near to whisper in his ear, a playful challenge in his voice. He watched Seungmin’s back as he walked away, a faint smile on his lips. This was either the most idiotic decision of his life, or the most thrilling.
The text came two days later, a crisp, concise message:
Unknown Number:
It's Seungmin. Meet me for lunch at ‘The Obsidian’ tomorrow, 1 PM.
Come alone. Dress presentably.
Hyunjin stared at his phone, a mixture of anticipation and dread swirling in his gut. ‘The Obsidian’ was one of the most exclusive, high-end restaurants in the city, notoriously difficult to get a reservation at. It was also, as rumor had it, a frequent haunt for Seungmin and his associates.
“You’re going alone?” Felix asked, eyeing Hyunjin with concern as he finished applying a shimmering eyeshadow to his own lids. They were at Felix’s studio, getting ready for a photoshoot. “He’s… intense. I’ve only seen him from afar, but the vibe is… dangerous.”
“That’s the fun part,” Hyunjin said, trying to sound braver than he felt. He checked his outfit in the mirror – a tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. Elegant, professional, approachable, yet with an edge. He chose it to reflect a controlled defiance.
“Just… be careful, Hyunjin. Seungmin isn’t just ‘intense.’ He’s a CEO with known ties to the underworld. People like him don’t play games for fun,” Felix warned, his voice serious.
Hyunjin waved a dismissive hand, though Felix’s words had landed with an unsettling thud. “Relax, Lix. It’s just fake dating. For a few months. How bad can it be?”
‘The Obsidian’ lived up to its reputation. Dark, polished wood, hushed tones, crystal chandeliers, and discreet, watchful staff. Hyunjin was led to a secluded corner booth, where Seungmin was already seated, a stark figure in a pristine black suit, surveying the room with an almost predatory calm. Bang Chan, a formidable man with broad shoulders and an unreadable expression, stood a respectful distance away – bodyguard, or something more?
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin acknowledged, a slight incline of his head. No smile, no warmth, just that intense gaze that seemed to strip away layers.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin replied, sliding into the plush seat opposite him. He noticed a faint, expensive scent of cologne and cigarette smoke clinging to Seungmin, a dangerous combination. “Fancy place.”
“It serves its purpose,” Seungmin stated, then pushed a thin, leather-bound folder across the table. “These are the terms.”
Hyunjin picked it up, flipping through pages filled with legal jargon. It outlined public appearances, social media protocols, non-disclosure agreements, and a clause that stated Hyunjin would receive “compensation for services rendered” – though no specific amount was mentioned.
“Compensation for services rendered?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, a flicker of his playful sarcasm returning. “I thought I was doing this for free, my fake lover.”
Seungmin’s lips curved upwards, a faint, almost imperceptible movement that was probably his version of a smile. “Consider it a bonus for dealing with me. The compensation will be substantial. You may name your price, within reason.”
Hyunjin was taken aback. This wasn’t just a casual fling. This was a contract. “Right. So, what exactly is ‘my purpose’ in these ‘plans’ you mentioned?”
Seungmin leaned back, his gaze unwavering. “I need to project an image of stability and, more importantly, unavailability. Certain… factions… are attempting to exploit my perceived lack of personal attachments. A public relationship, especially with someone of your profile, silences them. It also makes me seem more… human. More relatable, to a degree.”
“Relatable to the general public, or to your… associates?” Hyunjin probed, carefully.
“Both,” Seungmin affirmed, not missing a beat. “And for the duration of this agreement, you are mine. In public, and whenever we are together. There will be no questioning our authenticity.”
Hyunjin felt a strange thrill at the possessiveness in Seungmin’s tone, despite its purely transactional nature. “And what does ‘being yours’ entail?”
Seungmin laced his fingers, his eyes still locked on Hyunjin’s. “Public displays of affection, joint appearances, interviews where we speak glowingly of each other. And privately… you will be expected to accompany me to certain events, entertain my associates, and maintain the illusion. You’ll live at my penthouse. It’s safer, and more convincing.”
Hyunjin nearly choked on his water. “Live with you? I have my own place!”
“A two-bedroom apartment, easily accessible. My penthouse is a fortress. And it removes any doubt about the depth of our ‘relationship.’ Think of it as method acting, Hyunjin. You’re a model, you understand the art of performance.”
Hyunjin stared at him, suddenly feeling the weight of the proposal. This wasn’t just a game. This was stepping into Seungmin’s world, a world of power, danger, and calculated moves. Yet, the challenge, the sheer audacity of it, was intoxicating.
“And what if I don’t want to be ‘yours’ privately?” Hyunjin challenged, a defiant glint in his eyes.
Seungmin’s gaze darkened, a subtle shift that sent a shiver down Hyunjin’s spine. “You agreed to the terms. If you sign this contract, you agree to all terms. The illusion must be absolute. Any deviation, any hint of artifice, could put both of us at risk. More so, you.”
The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air. This wasn’t a negotiation. It was a declaration. Hyunjin swallowed, the playful edge of his initial acceptance replaced by a sober understanding of the stakes. He picked up a pen, a feeling of inevitability settling over him.
“Fine,” Hyunjin said, signing his name with a flourish. “But if I’m giving you my time and my… public persona, I expect certain liberties. And I’m not changing my entire life for this.”
Seungmin snatched the contract back, his expression unreadable. “You will find that my ‘liberties’ are quite generous. As for your life, it will simply… evolve.”
Life at Seungmin’s penthouse was indeed an evolution. It was a sprawling, minimalist masterpiece of glass and steel, perched high above the city, offering panoramic views that stole Hyunjin’s breath away every morning. He had an entire wing to himself, decorated in muted tones, luxurious yet sparse. Minho and Changbin, two other members of Seungmin’s inner circle – cold, watchful, impeccably dressed – were ever-present, their silent gazes making Hyunjin acutely aware of the constant security. They were not bodyguards in the traditional sense; they moved with an easy, dangerous grace that suggested they were more. Enforcers.
Their public debut as a couple was a carefully orchestrated media frenzy. A charity gala, paparazzi swarming, flashbulbs popping like a blizzard. Seungmin, usually stoic, put on a performance that shocked Hyunjin. His hand lingered on Hyunjin's lower back, his thumb tracing slow, possessive circles. He leaned in close, whispering something utterly mundane but making it sound intimate, drawing a soft, genuine laugh from Hyunjin. He even allowed Hyunjin to link their arms, a gesture Hyunjin had initiated playfully, expecting resistance, but Seungmin had surprisingly melted into it.
“You’re good at this,” Hyunjin murmured later that night, back in the quiet sanctuary of the penthouse, sipping expensive wine.
Seungmin, loosened by a single glass of Scotch, smirked. “I told you, it serves its purpose. Besides,” his eyes traveled over Hyunjin’s form, lingering a moment too long, “it isn’t entirely acting when I want to keep you close.”
The words, spoken so casually, sent a jolt through Hyunjin. He realized, with a sudden, alarming clarity, that Seungmin wasn’t just playing a role. There was an undercurrent of genuine possessiveness, a heat that had nothing to do with strategic maneuvering.
The blurring began subtly. Late-night conversations, initially about their ‘schedule’ or public appearances, drifted to personal tastes, past experiences. Hyunjin discovered Seungmin had a surprising fondness for classical music and an encyclopedic knowledge of ancient art. Seungmin, in turn, found himself listening, truly listening, to Hyunjin’s anecdotes about chaotic photoshoots and the absurdities of the fashion world.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day of back-to-back interviews where they’d perfectly sold their ‘love story,’ Hyunjin found himself drained. He collapsed onto the plush sofa in Seungmin’s living room, still in his formal attire, feeling the weight of the pretense. Seungmin walked in, loosened his tie, and simply sat beside him, offering a bowl of fresh fruit.
“You did well today,” Seungmin said, his voice softer than usual.
Hyunjin picked at a grape. “It’s exhausting, pretending to love someone you barely know.”
Seungmin was silent for a moment. “Do you truly barely know me, Hyunjin?”
The question hung in the air. Hyunjin looked at him, really looked at him. The sharp angles of his face, softened by the ambient light, the intense eyes that now held a hint of vulnerability. He realized he was starting to chip away at the formidable facade. He knew Seungmin’s coffee order, the way his jaw tensed when he was stressed, the rare, genuine laugh that was a low rumble in his chest.
“No,” Hyunjin admitted, the truth surprising him. “I guess I don’t.”
Days turned into weeks. Their public displays became less orchestrated, more natural. A casual touch of hands, a shared smile that reached their eyes, a protective arm slung around the other’s waist. The media ate it up, declaring them the power couple of the year. Hyunjin’s friends, Felix, Jisung, and I.N, were cautiously optimistic.
“He seems… less terrifying when he’s with you,” Jisung commented over coffee one day, eyeing a paparazzi photo of Seungmin gently adjusting Hyunjin’s scarf.
“He’s still a yakuza CEO, though,” I.N reminded them, ever the voice of caution. “Don’t forget that, Hyunjin. He’s dangerous.”
Hyunjin knew. He’d seen glimpses. The way Seungmin’s posture could instantly shift from relaxed to coiled tension when a certain call came in. The quiet, deadly efficiency of Minho and Changbin when they dealt with a persistent paparazzo. The fear in the eyes of business rivals who dared to cross Seungmin. But he also saw the way Seungmin listened patiently to his ramblings, the surprising tenderness with which he handled a stray cat that wandered into the penthouse, the genuine pride in his eyes when Hyunjin landed a major campaign.
The turning point was subtle, a slow, inevitable gravitational pull. One stormy night, Hyunjin was working on a sketch in his room when a crash of thunder made him jump. He didn't usually get scared, but the suddenness of it unnerved him. Moments later, Seungmin appeared at his door, dressed in a silk robe, a book in hand.
“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low, a concern Hyunjin hadn’t expected.
“Yeah, just… the thunder,” Hyunjin confessed, feeling strangely small.
Seungmin simply nodded, then walked over to the armchair by the window, settling in and opening his book. He didn’t say anything else, just sat there, a silent, comforting presence. Hyunjin continued to sketch, but the underlying anxiety had dissipated. He felt safe, truly safe, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
That night, for the first time, Hyunjin found himself wondering what it would be like if this wasn’t an act.
It all happened backstage at a fashion show. Hyunjin had just walked the runway, the crowd roaring. Seungmin was waiting for him, a rare, unguarded smile on his face. Adrenaline coursed through Hyunjin, and without thinking, he threw his arms around Seungmin, burying his face in his neck.
Seungmin stiffened for a split second, then his arms came around Hyunjin, holding him tight. The scent of him, clean and subtly masculine, filled Hyunjin’s senses. As Hyunjin pulled back, their eyes met. The raw emotion in Seungmin’s gaze mirrored his own.
“You were magnificent,” Seungmin breathed, his voice rough.
And then, he leaned in.
His lips were soft, hesitant at first, then firm, possessive. It was nothing like the stage kisses, nothing like the perfunctory pecks for the cameras. This was real. A desperate, hungry claiming. Hyunjin responded with equal fervor, his hands tangling in Seungmin's hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until his head spun. It tasted of wine and Seungmin, of unspoken desires finally unleashed. When they broke apart, breathless, the roar of the crowd felt distant, insignificant.
“That…” Hyunjin whispered, his voice hoarse, “was not for the cameras.”
Seungmin’s thumb caressed Hyunjin’s jawline. “No. It wasn’t.”
The first time they found themselves in Seungmin’s private quarters, the air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying. It had escalated slowly, naturally. A shared drink after a late event, Seungmin walking Hyunjin to his wing, lingering at the doorway, their eyes locking, the unspoken question hanging between them.
Tonight, there was no question.
Hyunjin had followed Seungmin into his lavish, masculine bedroom, the city lights painting streaks across the floor-to-ceiling windows. Seungmin turned, his gaze intense, stripping Hyunjin bare long before he even began to unbutton his shirt.
“Are you sure about this, Hyunjin?” Seungmin’s voice was a low growl, laced with a raw intensity that made Hyunjin’s knees weak.
“More than sure,” Hyunjin breathed, stepping closer, reaching out to touch Seungmin’s chest. The fabric of his shirt was smooth, warm beneath his fingers.
Seungmin’s hands found Hyunjin’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. The sudden contact was electric, body against body, a spark igniting a wildfire. Hyunjin felt the hard planes of Seungmin’s chest, the subtle tremor that ran through him. Their lips met again, hungrier this time, a desperate dance of desire. Seungmin’s tongue traced the seam of Hyunjin’s lips, seeking entry, and Hyunjin granted it, opening his mouth, inviting the delicious invasion.
The kiss deepened, a swirling vortex of heat and sensation. Seungmin’s hands moved, tracing the curve of Hyunjin’s back, slipping beneath his blazer, feeling the warmth of his skin. Hyunjin's own hands fumbled with the buttons of Seungmin's shirt, eager to feel more. The shirt came undone with a soft rustle, revealing a sculpted chest, taut muscles. Hyunjin’s fingers ghosted over it, eliciting a low moan from Seungmin, a sound that resonated deep within Hyunjin’s core.
Seungmin broke the kiss, burying his face in Hyunjin’s neck, teeth gently nipping, tongue flicking. Hyunjin arched into the touch, a gasp escaping his lips. Seungmin’s hands were everywhere, peeling off Hyunjin’s clothes with an urgent proficiency that was both thrilling and overwhelming. The silk of Hyunjin’s shirt slid down his arms, pooling at their feet. Then his trousers, Seungmin kneeling to pull them off, his gaze never leaving Hyunjin’s as he rose, his eyes burning with an unmasked hunger.
Hyunjin stood before him, bare, vulnerable, yet utterly captivated. Seungmin was a vision of raw power, his clothes discarded, his body lean and chiseled, a testament to discipline and possibly, violence. His erection was already prominent, a hard, demanding presence.
“Beautiful,” Seungmin whispered, his voice thick with desire, his eyes sweeping over Hyunjin’s body, lingering on his hips, his thighs, the swollen tip of his own erection.
Seungmin reached out, his fingers brushing against Hyunjin’s sensitive skin, eliciting a shudder. He squeezed gently, then rolled the head between his thumb and forefinger, making Hyunjin gasp, his hips instinctively thrusting forward.
“So eager, darling,” Seungmin murmured, his lips curving into a predatory smile. He led Hyunjin to the bed, a vast expanse of soft sheets and plump pillows. Hyunjin collapsed onto it, Seungmin following, hovering over him, their bodies almost touching.
Seungmin leaned down, his mouth tracing a path from Hyunjin’s jaw to his collarbone, then lower, kissing and sucking a furious trail down his chest, teasing his nipples until they beaded into hard nubs. Hyunjin whimpered, his hands clutching at Seungmin’s hair, his body arching, desperate for more.
“You’re so responsive,” Seungmin praised, his voice a low thrum against Hyunjin’s skin. He moved lower, his tongue trailing over Hyunjin’s abdomen, down past his navel, making Hyunjin buck beneath him.
And then, Seungmin’s mouth closed around Hyunjin’s cock.
Hyunjin cried out, a strangled moan of pure pleasure. The sensation was immediate, overwhelming, every nerve ending in his body screaming with delight. Seungmin’s experienced mouth worked him masterfully, drawing him deeper, teasing, licking, sucking with a practiced rhythm that pushed Hyunjin closer and closer to the edge. His hands gripped the sheets, his hips rocking, lost in the exquisite torment. He came quickly, a desperate, shuddering climax, filling Seungmin’s mouth with his hot release.
Seungmin swallowed, then pulled away, a triumphant gleam in his eyes, his lips still glistening. He kissed Hyunjin’s lips softly, tasting of their shared passion.
“My turn,” Seungmin stated, his voice huskier now. He reached for a small vial on his bedside table, a clear, viscous lubricant. His fingers, strong and sure, began to work on Hyunjin’s entrance, gently coaxing, preparing him. Hyunjin felt a jolt of apprehension, but also a deep sense of trust. He knew, instinctively, that Seungmin would guide him.
Seungmin’s finger entered, slow and deliberate, stretching Hyunjin, making him gasp. Then another, and another, until Hyunjin was filled, open, his body tingling with anticipation. Seungmin leaned down, whispering in his ear, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“Never too much,” Hyunjin panted, arching his back, urging Seungmin closer.
Seungmin positioned himself between Hyunjin’s legs, his hard, throbbing cock nudging at Hyunjin’s entrance. He paused, looking deep into Hyunjin’s eyes, a question, a promise, a challenge. Hyunjin met his gaze, his determination burning just as brightly.
With a powerful thrust, Seungmin pushed inside.
Hyunjin cried out, a sharp, surprised sound as his body stretched and accommodated the invasion. It was a searing, glorious fullness, a tearing pleasure that quickly morphed into an incredible, anchoring sensation. Seungmin waited, allowing Hyunjin to adjust, his body still, his breath hitched.
“Okay?” Seungmin murmured, his forehead resting against Hyunjin’s.
Hyunjin nodded, a strangled sound escaping his throat. “More.”
And Seungmin delivered. He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, then picking up speed, his hips driving into Hyunjin with increasing force. Hyunjin matched his rhythm, wrapping his legs around Seungmin’s waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to absorb every inch of him. The bed creaked with their movements, the sounds of their skin slapping together, their gasps and moans filling the opulent room.
Seungmin found Hyunjin’s prostate, hitting it with every thrust, sending waves of intense pleasure through him. Hyunjin cried out, his body convulsing, on the edge once more. "Oh god, Seungmin-ah!”
Seungmin’s own groans grew louder, his breathing ragged. He buried his face in Hyunjin’s neck, biting gently, his body rigid with control, pushing them both towards the precipice. Their climax was a violent, shattering wave, a simultaneous explosion of raw sensation that left them panting, trembling, utterly spent in each other’s arms. Seungmin collapsed onto Hyunjin, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding a synchronized rhythm against each other.
This wasn’t just physical. It was a merging, a profound connection that transcended the fake premise of their relationship. The lines had not just blurred; they had dissolved entirely.
Their relationship intensified, both publicly and privately. The fake smiles gave way to genuine affection, the staged touches to instinctive embraces. Hyunjin felt himself falling, irrevocably, for the dangerous, enigmatic CEO. Seungmin, in turn, showed Hyunjin sides of himself that no one else saw – a surprising vulnerability, a dry wit, a gentle thoughtfulness beneath the formidable exterior. He was fiercely protective, a quality Hyunjin found both unnerving and deeply comforting.
One evening, at an exclusive club, a stunning woman – a CEO of a rival fashion house, known for her sharp business acumen and even sharper beauty – approached their table. She draped herself against Seungmin, her hand resting provocatively on his bicep, her eyes sparkling with an obvious invitation.
“Seungmin, darling,” she purred, her gaze sliding to Hyunjin with a dismissive glance. “It’s been too long. Come, let’s have a real drink, away from… the noise.”
Hyunjin felt a prickle of insecurity, a flash of fear that Seungmin might actually consider it. He watched Seungmin’s face, searching for a reaction.
Seungmin’s expression remained unyielding. He gently, but firmly, removed her hand from his arm. “Mira. This ‘noise’ is my boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin. I’m quite content where I am.” His gaze, cold and unwavering, locked onto hers. “And I’m not interested in any ‘real drinks’ that don’t involve him.”
Mira’s smile faltered, replaced by a sneer. She shot Hyunjin a venomous look before retreating, defeated.
Hyunjin exhaled slowly, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. He looked at Seungmin, a wave of affection washing over him. “You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, though a part of him cherished the public declaration.
Seungmin turned to him, his thumb stroking Hyunjin’s cheek. “Don’t misunderstand, Hyunjin. What’s mine is mine. And you are mine.” The possessiveness in his gaze was absolute, a silent promise of loyalty, and a subtle warning against anyone who might try to interfere.
But with the deepening intimacy came a growing unease. Hyunjin started noticing things. Seungmin’s seemingly casual knowledge of Hyunjin’s minor habits before they’d officially met. A fleeting comment from Minho about “the boss’s long-term investments.” A slightly too-eager look in Seungmin’s eyes when Hyunjin had mentioned something insignificant, almost as if he’d been waiting for Hyunjin to say it.
The puzzle pieces began to assemble, slowly, ominously.
The revelation came like a punch to the gut. Hyunjin was in Seungmin’s office, looking for a misplaced charger, when he stumbled upon a hidden compartment in Seungmin’s desk. Inside, nestled beneath various classified documents, was a thick folder labeled “H.H.J.”
His heart pounding, Hyunjin pulled it out. It was filled with articles, photographs, social media printouts, even old interview transcripts – all about him. From his early modeling days, his charity work, his friendship with Felix, his favorite coffee shops, his past relationships, even the exact brand of cigarettes he smoked. Dates stretched back years, long before their chance encounter at Felix’s party.
He saw a photo of himself, taken discreetly from a distance, smoking outside a cafe, a small, weary smile on his face. The date on the back of the photo was nearly two years ago.
Seungmin hadn’t just “done some research.” He had been observing Hyunjin, meticulously, for years. The “chance encounter” at Felix’s party? It was a meticulously orchestrated set-up. The lighter, the proposition – all of it was a calculated move.
Hyunjin felt a cold dread spread through him, quickly followed by a searing rage. He heard the door click open. Seungmin stood there, his expression unreadable, his eyes falling on the open file in Hyunjin’s trembling hands.
“Hyunjin…” Seungmin’s voice was unusually soft, a hint of apprehension in it.
“You… you lied to me,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice cracking, the folder slipping from his numb fingers, scattering its damning contents across the polished floor. “All of it. The party, the lighter, the stupid condition! It was all a game to you, wasn’t it? All a manipulation!”
Seungmin stepped forward, but Hyunjin recoiled. “It wasn’t a game,” Seungmin said, his voice firm now, desperate. “It was… a plan. To get close to you.”
“A plan? To get close to me? To trap me?” Hyunjin’s voice rose, his eyes burning with betrayal. “You stalked me! You used my friends, my life, everything I am, to construct this elaborate lie! All of it – the affection, the touches, the sex– was it all part of the act? Just another condition of your twisted contract?”
Seungmin flinched, as if Hyunjin had struck him. “No! Hyunjin, everything since that first kiss, everything between us… that was real. It became real. I swear to you.”
“How can I believe anything you say? You’re a liar! A manipulator!” Hyunjin felt tears stinging his eyes, tears of anger and profound hurt. “You watched me. You researched me. You knew everything, and you still made me fall for a fabricated fantasy! Who are you, Seungmin? The dangerous CEO, the ruthless Yakuza leader, or the man who pretended to care!?”
“I am all of those things, Hyunjin,” Seungmin said, his voice low and guttural, revealing a depth of pain Hyunjin hadn’t known he possessed. “But I am also the man who fell in love with you. I couldn’t just approach you, not with my world. I needed a reason, an excuse. I needed to know if you could handle it, if you would even look at me. It was clumsy, I know, it was wrong, but it was the only way I knew how.”
“The only way?” Hyunjin scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You, Kim Seungmin, the man who controls half the city, you couldn’t find a normal way to approach someone? You had to… engineer a relationship? I feel sick.”
Hyunjin felt a suffocating panic. The man he had poured his heart and body into, the man he had trusted, had been playing him all along. The genuine moments, the tender touches, the passionate nights – were they real, or merely Seungmin skillfully maintaining the illusion? He couldn’t tell anymore. The ground beneath him felt like quicksand.
“I can’t do this,” Hyunjin whispered, shaking his head, backing away. “I can’t look at you. Not when every word, every touch, every single thing could have been a lie.”
He turned, stumbling towards the door, desperate to escape, to breathe.
“Hyunjin, wait!” Seungmin’s voice was desperate, a sound Hyunjin had never heard from him before. He reached out, his hand grasping Hyunjin’s arm.
Hyunjin shrugged him off violently. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!” He yanked the door open and fled, leaving Seungmin standing amidst the spilled evidence of his deception, his face etched with a pain as profound as Hyunjin’s own.
Hyunjin found refuge at Felix’s apartment, explaining in choked sobs what he’d discovered. Felix, Jisung, and I.N listened in horrified silence.
“I knew it!” I.N exclaimed, his face pale. “I told you he was dangerous, Hyunjin! This isn’t a normal person’s way of dating!”
Felix hugged him tight. “You have every right to be angry, Jinnie. He completely violated your trust.”
The next few days were a blur of pain and anger. Seungmin called, texted, sent Minho and Changbin to the apartment – not to retrieve him, but to deliver handwritten letters, apologies, pleas. Hyunjin ignored them all. He couldn’t bear to look at the man who had woven such an elaborate web of lies around him.
But even in his anger, a part of Hyunjin ached. He missed Seungmin’s quiet presence, his infuriating intensity, the way he felt so safe in his arms. The good moments, the genuine moments, kept replaying in his mind, making him question if it had allbeen a lie, or if something real had broken through Seungmin’s calculated machinations.
...
One evening, Seungmin showed up at Felix’s door himself. He looked haggard, his usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled. Bang Chan stood behind him, looking grim.
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin’s voice was raw, strained. “Please. Just talk to me.”
Hyunjin stared at him through the crack in the door, his heart hammering. “What do you want, Seungmin? To tell me more lies?”
“No. To tell you the truth. The whole truth. And to beg for your forgiveness.” Seungmin’s eyes, usually so cold and unreadable, were filled with a raw, vulnerable plea. “I love you, Hyunjin. I fell in love with you from the first moment I saw you, years ago, on a billboard. I knew I couldn’t just ‘date’ you. My world is too dangerous, too corrupt. I thought if I created a buffer, built this fake relationship, I could protect you, and still have you. I made a terrible mistake. I should have trusted you with the truth.”
Hyunjin felt a tremor of hope, quickly overshadowed by his lingering hurt. “And what about your ‘purpose’? Your ‘factions’? Was that all real, or just another part of the story to reel me in?”
Seungmin sighed, a heavy, weary sound. He gestured to Bang Chan, who produced a tablet. “It was real. Completely. But it became secondary. You became my purpose. The stability, the image… it was all true, but it was also the only way I could justify bringing you into my life, convincing myself I wasn’t tainting you.”
Hyunjin looked at the tablet. It showed encrypted messages, news articles about rival gangs, charts of illegal activities. The danger was palpable, terrifying. It wasn’t a fabrication.
“I know I hurt you,” Seungmin continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please, Hyunjin, don’t take yourself away from me. I’m lost without you. I’ll change. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave the business, I’ll simplify my life, if it means having you, truly, by my side.”
The last part was profound. For Seungmin, the ruthless Yakuza CEO, to even considerleaving his empire for Hyunjin spoke volumes. It cracked through Hyunjin’s anger, reaching the wounded, aching part of his heart.
“You’ll leave it all?” Hyunjin asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“If that’s what it takes for you to trust me again, yes. I’ll build a legitimate business, one that doesn’t involve… this. It will take time, but I swear it. I can’t promise you a life entirely free of shadows, Hyunjin, my past is what it is. But I can promise you a life where I am truly honest with you, where I fight for you, where I love you without manipulation or pretense.” Seungmin’s gaze was unwavering, his vulnerability stark.
Hyunjin looked into those intense eyes, seeing the desperation, the genuine love that had somehow blossomed amidst the deceit. He saw the pain his absence had inflicted. He remembered the comforting silence, the protective hand, the blistering passion. And he realized that despite the betrayal, his feelings for Seungmin hadn't died. They were too deeply ingrained.
He opened the door wider, stepping out onto the porch. “You have a lot to make up for, Kim Seungmin.”
A flicker of hope ignited in Seungmin’s eyes. “I know. And I will, Hyunjin. Every single day.”
Hyunjin stepped closer, reaching out, his fingers tracing the faint scar near Seungmin’s eyebrow. “Don’t you ever lie to me again. Not about anything.”
“Never again,” Seungmin promised, his hand coming up to cup Hyunjin’s cheek, his touch gentle, reverent.
And then, Hyunjin leaned in, initiating the kiss. It was slow, tentative at first, then deepened with all the raw emotion of their reunion. It tasted of apology and forgiveness, of lingering pain and fierce, undeniable love. This time, there was no pretense, no performance, only the profound, complicated, and utterly real connection between Hwang Hyunjin and Kim Seungmin. The danger of Seungmin’s world still loomed, a shadow they would have to navigate. But they would navigate it together, their bond forged not just in a fake contract, but in the crucible of truth and desire.