Gunsan-si (군산시), Jeollabuk-do (전라북도).

November 10, 2038

The air was thick with smoke and blood.

Kim Dohyun’s breaths came out ragged, every inhale tasting like rust and ash.

His broad frame leaned against a broken metal pipe, one arm limp and soaked red, his other still clutching a rusted crowbar.

His once-black tactical jacket was torn, shredded by claws and teeth.

The silence before the storm was deafening—before the next wave came. He could hear them.

The low snarls.

The dragging of limbs.

The screech of something inhuman echoing through the factory walls.

The Screamer.

He gritted his teeth.

They had promised to hold the line. The group he protected, fed, fought for. The ones he saved. He built this place from nothing—a fortress, a hope. And now… they were gone.

Left him behind. No. Not all of them. One stayed. For a moment. A glance. A whisper of guilt. Then they turned away.

Betrayal didn’t always need a knife. Sometimes, it came in silence.

He laughed dryly, the sound cracking in his throat. "Haaa... Haha... Hahaha... It's over... Finally..."

The footsteps were close now.

A horde of rot and rage, attracted by the mutated creature’s scream.

He knew this was the end.

He wouldn’t make it out this time.

His blood was already dripping in trails behind him. He dropped the crowbar, letting it "clang!" against the concrete floor.

For the first time in three years, he allowed himself to close his eyes.

A memory came—warm and soft like sunlight.

-

[“Dohyun, stop hogging the blanket,” Jihoon mumbled sleepily, half-buried under the comforter.

Dohyun turned, wrapping an arm around him with a quiet chuckle. “Then come closer,”

Jihoon grumbled but melted into his chest, their legs tangled beneath the sheets.

The apartment outside was quiet.

No screams.

No sirens.

Only the hum of the fridge and the soft breathing of the man he loved.]

—

He opened his eyes again.

The factory ceiling blurred above him.

A scream—closer now. He couldn’t move.

“Jihoon...” he whispered, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sorry.”

"... Hhhrrrggggggghhh"

And...

The sound of flesh tearing.

Claws scraping.

Teeth sinking.

Blood.

Pain.

And then—

A spark.

A blinding light seared his vision. Not the warm, forgiving light of death—but something else. Something electric. Surging. Pulling. The world cracked apart like glass shattering. And everything went black.

———

Hanyang University (한양대학교)

November 01, 2035. 11:32 AM

Three years earlier.

The university was on fire.

Not literally—yet.

But the screams, the sirens, the crashing glass, the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallways—it was as if the world had cracked open and swallowed everything sane.

Chaos reigned.

“Dohyun, this way!”

Jihoon’s voice rang out over the madness, high and sharp with panic. His hand gripped Dohyun’s wrist like a lifeline, pulling him through the corridor.

Their breaths were ragged.

Blood smeared their clothes—not theirs, not yet. Students ran past them, some shoving, some crying. Others didn’t move at all. Lay still. Torn apart.

The outbreak had started barely an hour ago.

No one knew how. No one knew why. One moment, it was an ordinary lecture day. The next, people were ripping each other apart with teeth and nails. They had no weapons. No plan. Just instinct.

“I think the south gate is still open,” Jihoon said, trying to stay calm.

He always tried to be the calm one. Even when his hands were trembling and his breath shook. Even now, when death was inches behind them.

Dohyun nodded, his jaw tight, chest heaving. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Down the stairs. Across the courtyard. A mob of students and professors trying to flee—then screams again.

A horde came from the dorm side. Fast. Rabid. Bleeding from their eyes.

They turned.

“Back inside!” Jihoon yelled, yanking Dohyun toward the library wing.

No.

Too late.

The creatures surged toward them.

Dohyun grabbed a metal trash bin, slamming it into the first one’s head, but three more replaced it instantly.

Doors. They needed doors.

Jihoon spotted one—an old supply room behind the library. They dove in, slammed it shut.

For a second, only the sound of their breathing.

Dohyun collapsed against the wall, arms shaking.

Jihoon turned and held his face between his hands. “You okay?”

Dohyun nodded, jaw clenched. “You?”

“Yeah. Just—” Jihoon exhaled. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

They held each other tightly in the dark, the noise outside getting louder. Closer.

Then silence.

Too quiet.

Jihoon crept to the tiny window in the door, looked out—and froze. “No...”

A horde.

Blocking the only exit. At least twenty. And more coming. They were surrounded. Dohyun looked around the room. Nothing useful.

No weapons.

No back door.

No vents.

Just shelves of dust and supplies

and a doomed future.

“We can’t fight them,” Jihoon whispered.

Dohyun’s eyes flicked to the hallway beyond the glass. Past the crowd. Just a few meters away—a gate.

The south exit. Wide open.

So close.

If one of them could distract the horde…

“No,” Dohyun said immediately, as if reading Jihoon’s thoughts.

Jihoon smiled, but it was hollow—cracked at the edges like a heart barely holding together.

“You’re the strong one, Dohyun,” he whispered, voice tight. “You can make it. If you survive… you’ll be able to help others. You have to.”

Dohyun shook his head, voice raised, his hands trembling as they reached for Jihoon. “I said I’m not leaving you behind!”

But Jihoon had already stepped forward. He gently cupped Dohyun’s face with both hands, his thumbs brushing along the sharp lines of his jaw. His touch was featherlight, as if afraid Dohyun would disappear if he pressed too hard. He leaned in close, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“You have to,” he said again, softer this time—breaking.

Then Jihoon tiptoed, just slightly, barely tall enough to reach. He tilted his head and kissed Dohyun—a kiss that trembled like a dying star. It was desperate, trembling, fleeting. A kiss soaked in fear. In goodbye. In a love that couldn’t scream but bled in silence.

When he pulled back, his breath hitched, forehead resting gently against Dohyun’s.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracking, “just this once… let me protect you.”

A moment of stillness hung between them—too fragile for the world they were in.

Then came the sound.

The shuffling. Scraping.

The unmistakable groan of the infected outside.

Too close.

The storage room walls suddenly felt like they were closing in.

Jihoon’s body tensed. Dohyun turned his head toward the door, heart pounding. The barricade wouldn't last. The bookshelves they pushed earlier were trembling now—barely holding.

“Time’s up,” Jihoon whispered, his voice hollow.

“No,” Dohyun said, clutching his wrist. “We can make it. Together.”

Jihoon’s lips trembled. “You know we can’t both outrun them.”

“We can try,” Dohyun shot back, desperation creeping into his voice. “Or else I'll die with you, together!”

He grabbed Jihoon’s hand, holding it tightly to his chest. “I'll always stay by yourside, no matter what.”

He held Dohyun’s face in both hands now—fingers trembling, eyes glassy with tears.

“I love you, Dohyun,” he whispered. “God, I love you so much it hurts.”

Dohyun shook his head, voice already cracking. “Don’t say it like that. Don’t—”

But Jihoon kept going, voice breaking with each word. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Wake up every day with your arms around me… grow old with you. Argue about stupid things and kiss you until you smiled again.”

His lips quivered. “I wanted everything. A future. Peace. You.”

Tears spilled down Dohyun’s cheeks.

Jihoon pressed their foreheads together, voice barely holding on. “But if you live… if you make it out—then maybe one day, you can still find happiness. Even if it’s without me.”

“No,” Dohyun choked, shaking his head furiously. “It has to be you. It’s only ever been you.”

Jihoon smiled—tired, soft, and full of love. “Then carry me in your heart,” he whispered. “Live for both of us.”

The door groaned louder.

The shelves gave a sickening creak.

Jihoon pulled back, and whispered one last time. “Please,” he barely holding himself together. “Let me do this. Just once.”

"I love you"

And then—without warning—he turned, gripped the handle, and wrenched the door open.

The hall beyond was chaos. Books scattered, papers soaked in blood. Screams echoed from a distance.

“Wait—!” Dohyun tried to grab him.

But Jihoon was already moving fast. He bolted down the hallway, away from the exit—toward the sound of the infected.

His voice rang out like a knife.

“HEY!! OVER HERE! COME ON!!”

“NO—JIHOON!!” Dohyun screamed.

The infected—dozens of them—turned at once. Snarling. Shrieking

They chased after Jihoon like a wave of death. But he didn’t look back. Not once.

Dohyun tried to run, but bodies swarmed. The other students—those still alive—were screaming too. Running. Pushing.

Someone grabbed him from behind-shoving him toward the library’s side exit. “GO! GO!”

“No! Let go of me-JIHOON’S STILL IN THERE!!” Dohyun thrashed wildly, elbows slamming against whoever touched him.

He managed to glance back—just in time to see Jihoon vanish around the corner, the infected pouring after him like a flood.

“JIHOON!!”

Another student slammed into him, and Dohyun stumbled through the door. The gate just outside was barely open. More hands pulled at him, shouting.

He turned, trying to run back in—but someone shoved him hard.

“We have to shut it!” someone screamed. “He bought us time—don’t waste it!!”

“DON’T—!” Dohyun screamed.

But the heavy door slammed shut.

CLANG.

Click.

Locked.

Dohyun’s fists pounded on the cold steel until his knuckles bled.

“JIHOON!! FUCK!! OPEN IT! PLEASE—HE’S STILL IN THERE!”

But it was too late.

Behind the door, the screams faded.

And then—nothing.

Only silence.

He dropped to his knees, fists limp against the door, breath ragged. “Jihoon…” he whispered, “why did you do this…”

Someone tried to lift him. He pushed them away. "FUCK DONT TOUCH ME!"

But more arms surrounded him. Pulled him toward safety.

And away from the boy he loved.

————

That day broke him.

But it also became the fire that forged the man who would lead a fortress, a resistance.

A future.

And now, somehow…

he's back.

It should have ended there.

The pain.

The sound of tearing flesh.

The world going dark.

But Kim Dohyun was still aware.

Floating.

No longer in his body, but not quite gone.

He couldn’t see—only felt. Cold. Heat. Weightlessness. Pressure. And something bright.

Blinding.

He drifted through a darkness that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Jihoon.

His name echoed like a whisper in the void.

Jihoon.

“...Jihoon?” he tried to speak, but no sound came. His voice was swallowed by the silence.

And then—

Something snapped.

A sudden rush—like falling, like drowning, like burning—and then a hard, hard crash.

————

Seoul, Seongdong-gu Wangsimni-dong (서울 성동구 왕십리동). September 01, 2035

He gasped awake. Dohyun bolted upright, drenched in sweat.

His heart thundered in his chest like it was trying to escape.

His lungs clawed for air.

His Hands gripped at nothing.

The world spun.

He blinked rapidly, expecting blood. Fire. Screams. But what he saw was—

A ceiling fan.

Turning slowly above him.

The room… familiar.

Clean. No blood. No rot. Just—Light.

Morning light. Soft and golden through gauzy curtains.

His breath caught in his throat.

"What…?"

He threw the blanket off, scrambled out of bed so fast he tripped.

Thud!

His hands hit the hardwood floor, chest heaving.

Everything looked... wrong.

But also right.

This was his apartment.

Their apartment.

Before...

“No,” he whispered, staggering to his feet. “No, this can’t…”

He stumbled into the hallway.

The scent of coffee.

The soft sound of something frying.

A voice.

His voice.

“Dohyun?”

The sound nearly knocked him off his feet.

Jihoon.

Jihoon.

Alive.

Dohyun rushed to the kitchen like a man possessed.

And there he was.

Park Jihoon stood by the stove in a soft, oversized sweater, holding a spatula.

His soft brown hair was messy from sleep, his eyes warm and a little puffy.

“Babe You okay? You look pale.”

Dohyun couldn’t speak. His legs gave out and he sank to the floor, eyes wide, mouth open.

Chest tight like it couldn’t hold all the emotion crashing in at once.

“Hey—hey, what’s wrong!?” Jihoon dropped the pan and rushed to him, kneeling, holding his face. “Are you in pain?! Did you have a nightmare? Dohyun, talk to me.”

Dohyun couldn’t stop shaking.

His hands gripped Jihoon’s arms like they weren’t real. Like he was afraid they would vanish if he blinked.

“I saw you die,” he said hoarsely, barely a whisper.

“I saw you die and I couldn’t stop it and then I—” his voice cracked—“I died, Jihoon. I died.”

Jihoon froze, eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”

“It was real. It felt real. The screams. The blood. they ocked the gate. You left me—no—you saved me but you—”

He broke off, sobbing suddenly.

Loud and raw, like the grief had been buried too long.

Jihoon wrapped his arms around him tightly, holding him as he trembled.

“Shhhh,” Jihoon whispered, stroking his back.

“It’s okay, Dohyun. I’m right here. It was just a dream. I'm right here with you, safe and sound”

He paused.

Chest still, breath shallow.

Watching Jihoon like the wrong word could make him vanish.

Dohyun’s eyes never left him.

Alive. Warm. Breathing. Jihoon.

It didn’t make sense.

A dream?

Was it just a dream?

It felt too realistic

He had died. He watched Jihoon die.

So why—why was he here?

Unless…

Unless this wasn’t a dream.

Unless fate had given him a second chance.

———————————————––––———————

Seongdong-gu Wangsimni-dong

Apartment, 10:25 AM.

For the next few hours, Kim Dohyun couldn't breathe right.

He moved through the apartment like a ghost, feeling his body-his alive, unwounded body-functioning as if nothing had happened. As if three years of blood and death had never touched him.

The smells.

The colors.

Jihoon humming a song while folding laundry.

The news anchor's soft voice murmuring from the television.

The clink of dishes being washed.

Too real.

Far, far too real.

But the panic wouldn't go away. Maybe this was what dying felt like-reliving your happiest moments before you fade. Or maybe he was crazy.

He splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom, then gripped the sink with white knuckles.

"Get it together,"

he whispered to his reflection.

The man staring back was whole.

No bite marks. No bloodshot eyes.

Just the same clean skin, same tired expression. Like a normal 22-year-old.

Normal.

His stomach twisted. He took a long deep breath, before turning back and walked out from the bathroom.

Dohyun heard Jihoon turned up the volume on the TV and said, "Oh, that's weird. Another virus outbreak in Eastern Europe. Some kind of aggressive flu strain. They're calling it Crimson Fever."

Dohyun froze mid-step. He turned to the TV slowly.

The same anchor.

The same headline.

The same date.

He remembered this.

He remembered brushing it off, just like everyone else.

Back then, it felt distant.

Another overseas scare.

Nothing to panic over.

Jihoon looked up from the couch. "You think it's serious?"

"I..." Dohyun swallowed. "I don't know."

He walked away before Jihoon could ask more.

————

Later that Evening. 03:59 PM

He stood by the window.

Hands in his hoodie pocket, gaze distant.

He knew it was stupid. Impossible.

But...

"At 4:07 PM, a man runs past this window, chasing his golden retriever that slipped its leash."

He remembered it exactly-because it was the last moment he ever laughed before the world ended.

Back then, Jihoon chuckled and said.

"That dog runs faster than your brain when you're sleepy."

So he waited.

4:05. Nothing.

4:06.

Then-

There.

A golden retriever darted across the sidewalk. A man followed, yelling. "Bori! Get back here, you little punk!"

Jihoon laughed from the kitchen.

"Hahaha... I guess that dog runs faster than your brain when you're sleepy babe."

Dohyun's blood went cold.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

"No way..."

————

12:39 PM

He barely slept that night.

He lay next to Jihoon, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling fan as it turned slowly above them. His mind spinning faster.

The same news.

The same man.

The same damn words.

He wasn't crazy.

Or dreaming.

This was real.

He grabbed his phone from the table side, and looked at the time

September, 02, 2035

Somehow... some impossible way, he was two months before the end of the world.

He turned to look at Jihoon sleeping peacefully beside him.

Breathing softly. Warm. Alive.

His throat tightened. He knew what he had to do. He had to be ready.

————

Saturday, 08:25 AM

The morning air smelled of rain.

Dohyun stood by the front door, lacing his shoes quietly as Jihoon bounced over, holding up a reusable shopping bag like a trophy.

"Come on, you promised you'd come with me this time,"

Jihoon teased with a smile. "No escaping with your fake 'too much homework' excuse today."

Dohyun blinked at him, caught off guard.

He remembered this.

This moment.

Jihoon in the beige hoodie. That exact playful tone. He even remembered the bag - a faded green canvas one with a stitched banana logo he hates the most. He'd forgotten how much peace they'd had before the world burned.

"Sure. I'm ready," Dohyun said, straightening up. "Let's go."

Jihoon tilted his head. "No whining?"

Dohyun smiled, and grabbed his hand. "Not today."

————

The car ride was quiet at first.

Light traffic.

A calm, cloudy sky.

Dohyun kept glancing at Jihoon's side profile-memorizing him again, the way he used to do when Jihoon wasn't looking.

Then-

Wee-woo. Wee-woo.

An ambulance shot past them, siren blazing.

Dohyun stiffened.

This is it.

The exact moment.

He remembered that sound.

That siren.

Even the sharp curve of the ambulance's tail lights. It happened here, on this road, on this date. He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Jihoon noticed. "Hey. You okay?"

Dohyun hesitated. Then he asked softly.

"Baby... if I told you something impossible... would you believe me?"

Jihoon blinked. "Like what?"

"Like... I had a dream. But it wasn't just a dream. It felt like I... lived an entire life. Three years. After everything collapsed. After the world ended." Dohyun's voice was low. Careful. "And now I'm back here. With you. Before it all started."

A pause.

Then Jihoon snorted a little and turned to look at him. "What, like... time travel? Or a zombie apocalypse?"

Dohyun's knuckles went white around the steering wheel.

Jihoon laughed. "Babe, are you trying to pitch me a webtoon plot?"

"I'm serious."

Jihoon stared at him for a beat, reading Dohyun's eyes with his soft doe eyes. Then his tone softened. "Okay. I believe you had a dream like that. You looked really shaken yesterday. But dreams aren't real, Dohyun."

Dohyun looked back at the road. "Yeah. Maybe not."

But he knew.

The ambulance.

The headlines.

The dog.

The exact words.

This wasn't a dream.

And there wasn't much time left.

————

E-Mart Wangsimni - 이마트 왕십리점

9:23 AM

The supermarket was busy. The usual Saturday morning bustle.

Elderly women inspecting vegetables. Kids tugging candy off shelves.

Normal.

It almost felt like a betrayal.

Jihoon picked up their usual cereal. "Want the same coffee beans as last time?"

"No." Dohyun answered it fast.

Jihoon paused. "No?"

"We're not here for that." Dohyun's voice was firm.

They walked together in silence for a moment.

Jihoon watched as Dohyun passed the snacks and vegetables without pause... and instead turned straight to the canned food aisle.

Then the bottled water section.

Then the medicine shelves.

Dohyun's cart was filling fast.

Tuna, beans, crackers. First aid kits. Rubbing alcohol. Multivitamins. Antibiotics. Gauze. Painkillers. Things they didn't need.

Not yet.

Jihoon was confused.

"Why... why are you buying so much?"

Dohyun didn't answer immediately.

He remembered stacking the same cans in a blood-soaked warehouse in his past life. three years ago.

Only back then, Jihoon was gone.

But this time...

He bent down, loaded another pack of bottled water into the cart, his brows furrowed.

When he finally spoke, it was gentle, with the small smile on his face. "I just... want to be prepared this time."

Jihoon frowned, voice quieter.

"For what?"

"For anything." Dohyun met his eyes.

"Just trust me."

People around them started glancing-three carts, brimming. A few whispered. Some even laughed.

Jihoon stayed close, biting his lip, clearly unsure. But he didn't argue.

————

Back in the car, Jihoon finally spoke.

"You're scaring me a little, Dohyun."

"I don't mean to."

"Then... at least tell me this."

Jihoon's voice was soft and vulnerable. "Are we in danger?"

Dohyun stared at the road ahead. "...Not yet."

Jihoon stared at him. Not upset. Not hatred.

Just purely concerned.

Dohyun turned to him. Soft Smiled on his lips. His other hand grabbed Jihoon's with gentle touch. "Baby... Don't Worry. Everything will be fine. I promise"

————

Apartment, 8:23 PM

Home Sweet home.

The apartment smelled like warm soup and cardboard. They ate dinner and Jihoon went out for a while to buy the forgotten Ice Cream.

Cans were stacked in neat lines across the floor.

Boxes sat open, half-filled, each labeled in black marker:

Food, Water, Medical Emergency, Tools.

Dohyun worked quietly, sorting each item with practiced hands. And the door opened just in time.

"I'm back!"

"Welcome back baby." Dohyun said without turning his head.

Jihoon leaned in the doorway, holding a popsicle in his hand. "You're organizing like we're prepping for war," he said softly, watching him.

Dohyun didn't look up. "Maybe we are."

A pause.

Jihoon's voice dipped, smaller now. "Dohyun... what's happening to you?"

He walked over and knelt beside him on the floor. Before Dohyun could answer, Jihoon slipped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his cheek against Dohyun's back.

"You've been different," he whispered. Pouting.

"Since yesterday. It's like you're somewhere else. Your eyes keep... looking too far."

Dohyun's eyes glance toward the melting popsicle. He leaned into Jihoon's warmth, breathing him in.

He couldn't tell him.

Not yet.

Not when there was still time left to pretend they were safe.

He turned slowly and cradled Jihoon's face in his hands. "I'm here," he murmured. "I promise."

"I know you're here, silly"

Dohyun blinked. And chuckled.

"Haha yeah of course."

He leaned even closer. Grabbed Jihoon's wrist, and licked the melted popsicle on his skin.

Jihoon's face flushed red. His body flinched a little, as he felt the tongue caressing his skin.

But he stayed still and watched the man he loved in front of him just cleaned the sticky liquid from his hand.

"Pervert..." Jihoon said. But let himself be kissed-slow, deep, a touch that felt almost mournful.

Dohyun pulled him closer, thumb stroking his cheek, trying to imprint this moment into his skin.

"You're overthinking again," Jihoon whispered against his lips.

"You make it hard not to."

Jihoon laughed softly and leaned in again, his fingers slipping into the hem of Dohyun's shirt. "Then stop thinking."

Dohyun’s hand stilled over Jihoon’s wrist.

His eyes darkened—burning with something tender and aching and full of quiet hunger.

"You really want me to stop thinking?" he asked, voice low, rough at the edges.

Jihoon’s breath caught. “Mm… if it means you’ll stop brooding like a tragic drama character, then yes.”

Dohyun huffed a laugh—but it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Jihoon’s.

“Too late.”

And then he stood.

Startling Jihoon as arms swept under his thighs and back, lifting him clean off the floor.

“Wait—what are you doing?”

“Exactly what you told me to.” Dohyun’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Stop thinking.”

Jihoon yelped, gripping his shoulders. “You’re such a brute sometimes—”

“And yet you keep coming back,” Dohyun replied, already walking toward the bedroom.

The light from the hallway cast soft gold across his sharp jawline, his arms steady as steel. Jihoon’s face flushed, heart thudding as he clung tighter—suddenly shy, despite himself.

“I still have a popsicle in my—”

Dohyun kissed him mid-sentence.

Hot. Open. Devouring.

Jihoon moaned into his mouth, the stick clattering somewhere to the floor behind them.

By the time they reached the bed, Jihoon was breathless.

Dohyun laid him down with care—too gentle for how wild his eyes looked.

He crawled over him like a shadow, planting a kiss against his neck, then his chest, then lower—pressing reverent kisses like he was mapping the body he already knew by heart.

Jihoon’s fingers curled in the sheets. “You’re so intense tonight…”

Dohyun looked up through heavy lashes, pausing at the waistband of his shorts.

“You told me to stop thinking,” he murmured. “So I’m just going to feel.”

He tugged the fabric down, slow, like a ritual.

Jihoon shivered under him, pupils blown wide. “Touch me, Dohyun.”

Dohyun didn’t answer with words.

He answered with his mouth.

Jihoon gasped—sharp and sudden—as Dohyun’s tongue dragged a line up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His hips jerked involuntarily, already half-hard, but Dohyun’s hands gripped them firmly, holding him down.

“D-Dohyun—hah—”

Jihoon’s voice cracked, breath hitching as Dohyun’s mouth finally wrapped around him—slow, consuming.

He tried to cover his mouth, but the moan still tore out of him.

“Don’t,” Dohyun murmured without lifting his head, the vibration making Jihoon arch. “I want to hear you.”

Jihoon bit his lip, chest rising in shallow breaths. He reached down, threading his fingers through Dohyun’s black-streaked hair, tugging gently.

Every swirl of Dohyun’s tongue, every teasing graze of teeth, had him trembling—until his back arched and his thighs shook, chasing the edge like a fever.

“F-fuck—” Jihoon whimpered. “Dohyun, please—ah—”

Dohyun pulled back with a wet pop, his mouth glistening, voice ragged. “Turn over.”

Jihoon blinked—dazed. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” Dohyun’s hand slid up his thigh, then squeezed. “I need you like that.”

Jihoon’s breath stuttered, cheeks flushed dark pink. But he obeyed—slowly, turning onto his stomach, legs parted as he buried his face into the pillows. “Pervert…”

“Yours.”

Dohyun pressed against him, skin on skin, chest against Jihoon’s back. One hand stroked down Jihoon’s side, the other guiding himself as he lined up at his entrance, teasing—rubbing slowly, making Jihoon twitch.

He didn’t enter yet.

Instead, he kissed between Jihoon’s shoulder blades, again and again, like he couldn’t help it.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered. “I’ll stop.”

Jihoon looked back at him, hair falling into his eyes, lips parted. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”

Dohyun huffed a laugh—but then he pushed in, slow and deep.

Jihoon cried out, biting into the pillow. His fingers clenched the sheets.

Dohyun gritted his teeth, groaning low in his throat. “Shit—you’re still so tight…”

He moved carefully at first, letting Jihoon adjust, until Jihoon rocked back into him with a desperate noise.

Then Dohyun’s rhythm changed.

He thrust into him with purpose—raw, controlled, deep enough to knock breath from Jihoon’s lungs.

“Ah—Dohyun—!” Jihoon tried to keep quiet, but every thrust knocked a sound out of him.

The wet slap of skin filled the room, tangled with Dohyun’s breathy groans and Jihoon’s increasingly broken moans.

“Hnnn—nghh—! D-Dohyun—hah—t-there—!”

“I know, baby, I got you.”

Dohyun bent forward, hand slipping under Jihoon’s body to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Jihoon nearly sobbed from the intensity, legs trembling.

His voice cracked.

“C-can’t—nghh—gonna—”

“Come for me,” Dohyun growled in his ear, thrusting harder, deeper, rougher. “Let me feel you.”

Jihoon came with a shuddering gasp, spilling hot over Dohyun’s hand and the sheets below. His whole body spasmed, toes curling, muscles clenching tight around Dohyun—dragging a guttural moan from him.

“F-fuck—Jihoon—!”

Dohyun buried himself to the hilt and came inside him, hips jerking, gasping his name like it was a prayer.

They stayed like that for a moment—tangled, panting, sweat-slicked and shaking.

Jihoon groaned weakly, still face-down. “You came so deep…”

Dohyun laughed breathlessly, brushing Jihoon’s hair back and kissing the nape of his neck. “That’s what you get for teasing me with a damn popsicle.”

————

The days blurred into each other, soft and fleeting, like a dream he was scared to wake up from

Two people tangled together beneath warm sheets, Jihoon slept soundly-his breathing even, mouth slightly open, lashes soft against pale skin.

Dohyun couldn't sleep.

He lay in silence for a long time, staring at the ceiling.

He carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake Jihoon, and padded into the living room.

The glow of the laptop screen lit his face as he sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched forward.

Search:

Where to buy legal self-defense weapons Korea.

He scrolled.

Stun guns. Batons. Pepper spray.

Too weak.

He opened a new window.

Private forums.

Back channels.

And then deeper still.

The real places.

Where guns were hidden in black markets.

Where you could buy ammo by the crate.

Where someone with the right money-and desperation-could find the things no one should ever need.

Gas grenades. Machetes. Handguns. Homemade explosives. Rifles.

Dohyun's eyes sharpened as he read. He saw few guns. He remembered how hard it was fighting the zombies with just a sloppy crowbar and a broken baseball bat

His fingers tapped the trackpad, copying links, setting up encrypted tabs.

He didn't have long. The calendar on his phone blinked at him.

September, 15.

He could still save Jihoon.

He had to.

————

The wind rattled softly against the apartment windows as Dohyun sat at the edge of the bed, phone pressed to his ear.

It was early-too early-but time was already slipping.

He couldn't afford to wait.

The call clicked through.

A pause.

Then a familiar voice answered with dry authority.

"Kim Dohyun. You're calling awfully early for someone who usually avoids family business."

Dohyun didn't flinch.

"Father. I need to ask for access to the Jeju estate."

There was silence on the other end.

Then a low, annoyed breath. "You haven't spoken to me in six months. And now you're asking about the private villa?"

"I need it."

"For what?"

Dohyun hesitated.

"Just for some time away," he lied. "Somewhere secure. Is it still stocked? The bunker beneath the property?"

The silence deepened.

From the side bed, Jihoon had just woken. He sat quietly. Stretching and yawning, sleep still fogging his eyes-until he heard the word Jeju.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop. But Dohyun's voice had a weight he'd never heard before.

"Was it something about us? Jeju?" Jihoon's mind is thinking about the possibility.

On the other end, his father gave a cold chuckle. "Still obsessing over your childhood paranoia? What are you really planning? You want to hide out while the rest of us work?"

"I'm not asking for permission," Dohyun said, voice low.

"I can deny you access anytime I please."

"You won't."

"Oh?"

"Because you'll need that place too. Sooner than you think."

Another long pause.

Then his father's voice hardened. "You're a Kim. You don't get to run around with some boy and play house forever. You think I don't know what you're doing with your little apartment life? That's not reality. You have a responsibility to this family and its name. The company will pass to you when I step down. And here I have, an ungrateful Son. Shameless"

Dohyun's voice dropped to a whisper. "Father... The company won't matter when everything is ash."

His father snapped, "Enough of this nonsense!"

Click.

The call ended.

Dohyun stared at the dark screen for a moment, jaw clenched. He didn't even notice Jihoon until the gently tapped on his shoulder from behind.

"Dohyun... Jeju?" Jihoon asked, his voice gentle. "What was that about?"

Dohyun turned around, then blinked, caught off guard. "Nothing important," he said quickly. "Just... estate things. My father."

Jihoon didn't press. But something in his expression flickered-uncertainty.

Fear.

Dohyun lean down and reached for him. "Come here."

Jihoon snuggled closer into his arms.

————

Later that day.

Dohyun sat alone at the window with a mug of black coffee, eyes watching the sky.

He thought of the first time.

When Seoul collapsed.

How his family had disappeared from the radar for only a few hours... only to re-emerge perfectly fine, safe in military hands.

Evacuated with the other elites:

Executives.

Politicians.

CEOs.

Of course they were saved. The military had a list. And the Kims were at the top of it. He had never worried about them-not even once. And maybe that was the saddest part. He loved them as a son should, but...

He didn't miss them.

And they never came looking for him, even when he led hundreds of survivors through blood and fire.

He took a slow sip of coffee and let the thought pass.

All that mattered now... was Jihoon.

"Babe are you going to school or not?"

That soft voice he missed. He lost it once.

Dohyun turned around. Smiled softly as he placed the cup in the sink. "I'm coming I'm coming"

He wouldn't lose him this time.

Not again.

Not to the world.

Not to silence.

———————————————––––———————

Hanyang University (한양대학교)

September 20, 2035

09:32 AM

The campus buzzed with the usual morning chaos-horns from the nearby street, loudspeaker announcements from the central building, and clusters of students with coffee in one hand and stress in the other.

Dohyun parked his car along the east side of the lot, where the art and business departments split off in different directions.

As he stepped out, Jihoon adjusted the strap of his paint-stained tote bag and looked up at the sky.

It was clear, bright... too quiet.

"How many classes do you have today?" Dohyun asked, locking the car.

"Just Professor Lim and that visual storytelling elective."

Jihoon yawned, stretching his arms. "Think I'll survive. You?"

"Business ethics and some financial management things."

"Tragic," Jihoon smirked.

"Anyway, café after?"

"I'll pick you up at the art building,"

Dohyun said, voice soft.

Jihoon nodded, Smiled and waved his hand as he turned away.

They parted at the campus gate.

Then...

"Jihoonie!!"

A voice burst through the crowd.

A guy with red-dyed hair, a lip ring, and mismatched Converse jogged toward Jihoon.

It was Jun - a whirlwind of chaotic style and energy.

"Morning, Jun," Jihoon greeted with a chuckle.

"Did you finish Professor Lim's assignment?! Please tell me you did-lemme see that sketchbook. I'm dying, man!"

"You're always dying,"

Jihoon teased as he disappeared with him into the art wing, laughter trailing behind them.

Across the lot, Dohyun was already being approached. A small group of business students stood near the staircase-three guys dressed in designer sneakers and pressed coats. Even among the crowd, they stood out effortlessly.

One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, waved him over. "Dohyun! Bro, you're actually late?"

Another glanced at his Rolex watch, a limited-edition model. "You're 15 minutes off. The world's ending."

"Maybe it already has," Dohyun muttered to himself, too softly for them to hear.

If only they knew how close that joke was to the truth.

10:10 AM - Business Lecture Hall

The lecture room was half-full, dimly lit by the projector's bluish glare.

Before class started, several girls near the back were whispering in hushed tones.

"Did you see that video? The one from Germany?"

"Yeah, the guy in the subway biting someone-looked real."

"I heard it's a synthetic drug. Some Reddit threads said the government's covering it up."

A guy sitting in front of them scoffed and turned around.

"It's a hoax. Literally deepfake crap. Why do you all fall for this stuff?"

"It didn't look fake to me," one of the girls shot back.

"That's the point of a good fake."

Their bickering was cut short when the professor entered.

"Phones off. Brains on.!"

He started talking about market regulations and international news reactions.

But Dohyun wasn't listening. Dohyun's chest tightened.

The subway platform.

The screams.

The blood.

The way the man twisted unnaturally and lunged with inhuman strength-

he remembered it all. Because he'd been in the same situation. Because he had killed many of them.

No one else noticed.

Everyone else thought it was a meme.

A rumor.

But he could feel it.

The countdown had started again.

12:45 PM - Art Department,

The scent of oil paint and varnish hung in the air. Posters littered the walls, some half-torn:

"Gallery Showing Next Friday!",

"Life Drawing Club!",

"Looking for volunteers-art therapy project."

Dohyun leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching students wander in and out.

He stayed quiet, invisible - a businessman among dreamers.

Then he heard it.

"Is that... Kim Dohyun?"

Three girls glanced from down the hall.

They tried not to stare, but failed.

"Yeah, the one from Business Management"

"Kim Dohwa's son, right? From the conglomerate family?"

"Wait. You mean that Kim Dohwa? The CEO of D.H Group?"

"Ssshh! You didn't know? He's the only son of Kim Dohwa."

"No way-he's always so quiet."

"What's he doing in this building?"

Dohyun sighed quietly and looked away, jaw tightening.

He's already used to it.

But still... annoyed him

Jihoon emerged a few minutes later, the sketchbook clutched to his chest, smudges of charcoal dust on his fingertips and cheek.

His eyes lit up the second he saw Dohyun. "You're early."

"You're messy," Dohyun replied, brushing Jihoon's cheek with his thumb.

Jihoon leaned into the touch for a second, but then leaned back with a teasing grin. "You're famous again. Pretty sure the first year thinks you're here to buy the department."

Dohyun exhaled a soft laugh. "Should I?"

Jihoon chuckled and grab his hand. Intertwined their fingers.

"So, Mister Conglomerate, should I start calling you 'chaebol-nim' now?"

"Please don't."

They walked side by side toward the exit.

Suddenly Jihoon paused, and stopped on his stepped. "Oh! I-I need to stop by the library real quick. Just for a book."

The words froze Dohyun's feet mid-step.

Library.

Narrow hallway.

Broken windows.

Dusty Shelves

The Blood.

The Smell rot corpses

The uncompleted body scattered around.

His stomach crunch.

"No." His voice came out sharper than intended.

Jihoon blinked, surprised. "I won't take long-

"I'm hungry," He cut off. Dohyun said, forcing a smile. "We can go next time."

It wasn't about hunger. It was fear, wrapped in memories he couldn't say out loud.

1:25 PM - Off-Campus Café

The tiny café was warm and smelled like vanilla syrup and coffee beans.

Their usual table by the window sat untouched. Jihoon was talking-something about his next project. But Dohyun barely registered the words.

His eyes scanned the people outside.

The crowded sidewalks.

The students are walking alone.

The mother with a baby stroller.

A teenager coughing on the corner.

His hand trembled.

I can't stay here. I need to get him away. Soon.

"Dohyun?"

Jihoon's voice pulled him back. Concern lingered behind his eyes.

"You've been quiet all day. You sure everything's okay?"

"I'm fine," Dohyun lied. Forcing a smile.

Soon... I need to take him away from here soon.

2:02 PM - Parking Lot

As they returned to the car, the breeze had shifted.

A flyer blew across the ground and stuck to Dohyun's leg.

He looked down.

"CRIMSON FEVER: New Hoax or Bioterrorism?"

- Pg. 4, Global Times.

His throat dried. That same headline. The same font.

He remembered this exact moment. He remembered standing here-one day before it all collapsed.

Without thinking, he reached out and took Jihoon's hand.

"Let's go home."

Jihoon didn't argue this time.

But behind them, the flyer peeled off the ground and drifted away into the wind, like a warning ignored.

————

Another day passed. Like all the others.

Quiet. Ordinary. Meaningless.

But not for Dohyun.

Each day was survival. Preparing for the worst. That he already knows

Dohyun stood in front of the window, unmoving, arms folded, eyes half-lidded.

He wasn't looking at anything-just the void beyond the glass. But something about him felt... expectant. Like he was waiting for something the world forgot to deliver.

Then-

A sound.

Faint tires brushing asphalt.

A soft engine rumble. No headlights.

A van pulled up in the back alley behind the apartment.

Unmarked. No license plate.

Matte gray. Government-style hush.

Dohyun didn't hesitate.

He moved like a man who'd done this before-like the noise was confirmation, not surprise.

The driver never spoke.

Just climbed out, opened the back doors, and gave a curt nod before he left.

Inside: crates. Matte black. Lined in foam. Heavy.

Dohyun ran a hand along the cool metal latches, pausing briefly-then popped them open one by one with smooth precision.

The cold gleam of weaponry caught the early light.

Two handguns, cleaned and preloaded.

A compact shotgun with a matte grip.

Ammo boxes stacked like old habits.

A folded compound bow.

A crossbow, pre-strung, its string humming faintly with tension.

Hunting knives-balanced, sharpened.

Smoke grenades in neat rows.

Two tactical vests. His size. Jihoon's size.

Dohyun's fingers moved deliberately. Clip. Slide. Lock. Inspect.

No fear. No rush. Only muscle memory.

Three years. Three years of blood, bone, and running. The world had turned him into this.

Not a killer. A survivor.

And then...

"Dohyun-!"

A voice cracked through the morning air like glass shattering on concrete.

Dohyun's hand froze over a box of ammo.

He turned slowly.

Jihoon stood at the edge of the alleyway, barefoot, still in pajama pants and a wrinkled tee.

His hair was a mess of sleep.

His eyes-wide, stunned, betrayed.

"Are those-?"

He took a step closer, then stopped dead. "What the hell is all this?" His voice was quiet, but it wavered.

Dohyun didn't speak. Not yet.

He just watched Jihoon's expression shift-from confusion to realization. From disbelief to something that looked dangerously close to fear.

Jihoon glanced into the van.

At the crates.

At the loaded guns.

"You... bought this? You bought all this?"

"It's not what you think," Dohyun said, closing the doors gently with both hands.

Jihoon's breath hitched. "Guns? Grenades? Are you serious right now? How?!"

He wasn't angry. He wasn't yelling. He was scared. Not of Dohyun. But for him. And somehow, that hurt more.

Dohyun crossed the space between them and laid his hands carefully on Jihoon's shoulders.

He touched him like glass-afraid that if he held too tight, Jihoon would slip right through his fingers. "Baby... I need you to trust me."

Jihoon's brows pulled together, eyes starting to glass over. "I don't understand," he whispered. Almost like crying.

"You will," Dohyun replied softly. "Just not yet."

A pause.

Wind brushed past.

Somewhere, a bird chirped-mocking how normal the world still looked. But in this alley, silence stretched between them like the last breath before a storm.

Dohyun's voice dropped, low and aching. "I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"

Jihoon stared at him. Eyes glassy. And slowly... nodded."...Yeah," he breathed. "I know."

But the fear didn't fade from his eyes.

Because love wasn't the question.

The unknown was.

————

Lazy Sunday 7:10 AM

It was the day after Jihoon had stumbled upon the truth. A quiet storm had passed between them the night before—no raised voices, only the weight of silence and the flicker of concern in Jihoon’s eyes. And now, morning had come, cold and overcast, the tension still lingering like smoke in the air.

But then...

Out of nowhere.

Dohyun whispered in Jihoon's ear. Low and soft. "Baby... let's do a picnic"

Jihoon's body flinched as he felt dohyun's breath on his neck. He opened his eyes quickly and turned to him excitedly.

"You mean a date?! Wee!"

It started like a date.

No-it was a date. That's what Jihoon thought.

But then Jihoon blinked. "Since when do you do picnics?"

Dohyun just shrugged, Stood up and sled into a backpack over one shoulder.

"Since today. Come on sleepyhead"

He didn't give Jihoon a chance to argue. Just told him to wear something warm and follow him.

Jihoon, still half-asleep, stuffed snacks into a tote and chased after him in mismatched socks and messy hair.

————

Namhansanseong Forest, Gwangju-si

September 24, 2035 - 10:12 PM

The forest road curved upward like a ribbon, sunlight flickering through the canopy above. Pine trees stood tall on either side, their shadows long across the cracked asphalt.

Jihoon stared out the window, eyebrows knitting together.

"Wait..." he leaned forward.

"Aren't we out of Seoul already?"

Dohyun, hands on the wheel, didn't answer right away.

"Technically," he said at last.

"We're still close. Just outside Gwangju."

Jihoon gave him a squint.

"You kidnapped me."

"You got in willingly."

"I thought you meant picnic like-like coffee and sandwiches by the Han River!."

Dohyun parked off the road, tires crunching over dry leaves. The trees were thicker here. No other cars. No people.

"...We're not gonna get murdered, right?" Jihoon half-joked as he stepped out.

"No," Dohyun said, opening the trunk.

"But I want you to learn how not to."

He lifted a slim, padded case.

Jihoon blinked. "Is that-?"

"A silenced handgun," Dohyun confirmed.

"Just one. For today."

————

[The Training Session]

The forest was quiet that afternoon, the wind rustling through branches like whispers.

A tree trunk had been marked with a red X-spray paint, faded but still visible. Jihoon stood ten paces away, both hands wrapped around the pistol, his stance awkward. His sneakers dug into the dirt.

Dohyun stood behind him, close enough that Jihoon could feel his breath.

"You're too tense," Dohyun said, gently guiding his arms.

"Lower your shoulders. Relax your jaw."

"I feel like I'm in a bad movie," Jihoon muttered.

Dohyun smirked. "Just aim. Don't act."

"The safety's off already?"

"Yeah. Finger beside the trigger. You aim first... then fire."

Jihoon exhaled and focused on the red mark.

"And remember,"

Dohyun added quietly, his voice just behind Jihoon's ear. "You're not shooting to kill. You're shooting to live."

The first shot cracked through the forest like a snap of thunder.

Birds scattered.

Jihoon flinched and nearly dropped the gun. "Holy-! Was that me?!"

"You're okay," Dohyun said calmly, catching the pistol and his wrist.

"Try again."

"I missed."

"You'll hit next time."

They stayed like that. Shot after shot.

A few missed completely.

A few scraped bark.

And finally, one carved clean through the edge of the X.

Jihoon lowered the gun slowly, breathing hard. His arms were sore. But his hands were steadier now.

"...Why are you really doing this?" he asked, voice soft.

Dohyun didn't answer right away. The light through the trees had shifted golden. Then, softly: "Because next time... I'm not letting you die."

Jihoon froze. "...What?"

Dohyun didn't explain.

He only stepped forward and ruffled Jihoon's hair, his touch lingering.

"Let's go home."

"Ugh... I'm hungry."

As they walk back, Jihoon sneaks a glance at the tree trunk.

The last shot he took-dead center.

But he doesn't smile.

————

01:34 PM

[After their training season]

They stopped at the café near Namhansanseong fortress was tucked between trees, more glass than a wall, wrapped in morning mist and the scent of pine.

Jihoon sat at the table like a man betrayed by the gods of hunger. He devoured omelet rice, pancakes, and two cups of hot cocoa like he was in a food competition.

Now, leaning back, he groaned. "I think I pulled a stomach muscle."

Dohyun chuckled, stirring his tea. "No regrets?"

"You ambushed me. I thought we were going on a walk, not a surprise brunch in the woods."

"I never said just a walk."

Jihoon narrowed his eyes. "You said, it was a picnic sir!"

Dohyun just smiled, then reached over to adjust the scarf around Jihoon's neck. "Haha, Okay. No more ambushed. Come on. If you're done let's go home."

————

[Later - Their Apartment]

03:45 PM

The door clicked shut behind them with a final, muffled thud. The world outside faded into silence.

Jihoon let out a long groan, immediately kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the couch like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

"Ugh... my arms are still shaking. My ears are ringing. And I smell like gunpowder."

Dohyun stood quietly by the door for a moment, watching him-like someone who had dreamt of this sight a thousand times and was still afraid to blink.

"You did well," he finally murmured, his voice soft as he set the gear case down with care, as if even the floor shouldn't echo right now.

Jihoon turned his head, pouting. "Okay, but seriously... where the hell did that come from?"

He sat up slightly, eyes narrowing. "You-You were like some action movie hero back there. Like... click-clack boom. No hesitation. You even knew how to use that bow without flinching."

Dohyun walked over slowly, quietly, as if approaching something fragile.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Jihoon's forehead, his hand gently brushing Jihoon's bangs aside as if memorizing the shape of him.

"I just wanted to protect you,"

he whispered, and for a second, it sounded more like a confession than an answer.

"That's not an answer," Jihoon replied, narrowing his eyes.

But Dohyun only gave him a small smile-one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're cute when you pout."

Jihoon huffed and grabbed his collar, tugging him closer.

"You're suspicious when you dodge. I feel like I'm dating a secret agent."

Dohyun looked at him for a long moment—like he wanted to say something true but couldn’t risk unraveling it with words.

Something too deep, too fragile to name. His voice, low and rough with feeling, barely carried as he leaned in.

“Then maybe this agent needs to shut you up.”

Jihoon blinked—then burst into breathless laughter. “Wow. Cringe. Come here.”

Their mouths collided like a dam finally breaking.

Dohyun kissed him like he was starved — not just for Jihoon’s body, but for every version of him he’d missed. Every smile, every sigh, every damn second lost to fear and silence. It wasn’t just a kiss.

It was a claiming.

A desperate, slow-burn surrender that dragged them under with no way back up.

Their hands were frantic and reverent all at once. Every button undone felt like a confession pulled from their chests. Every zipper eased down was another wall crumbling between them. Jihoon’s hoodie slipped from his shoulders, exposing pale skin flushed pink from anticipation. Dohyun’s fingers ghosted along his sides like he was memorizing a sacred text.

By the time they stumbled to the mattress, Jihoon was breathless and shivering—not from cold, but from the weight of being wanted so deeply.

Dohyun’s lips pressed against the arch of Jihoon’s neck, slow and lingering. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, voice frayed at the edges.

Jihoon looked up, eyes dark and glassy. “If you stop now,” he breathed, “I’ll never forgive you.”

That did it.

Clothes hit the floor with soft rustles and quiet gasps. Skin met skin—hot and trembling. Dohyun's hands gripped Jihoon's thighs, guiding him close, grounding himself with every stolen moan. Jihoon climbed onto his lap, knees bracketing Dohyun’s hips, bold and trembling.

He sank down onto him slowly—inch by inch—with a stuttered gasp that turned into a half-choked moan.

“Hhnn… f-fuck…”

His hands braced against Dohyun’s chest, fingers curling into the scarred skin as his body trembled from the stretch, the heat, the fullness.

Dohyun groaned through his teeth, head tipped back, eyes clenched. “You… You said you wouldn't forgive me if I stop,” he growled, voice low and broken. “Don’t blame me if I can’t hold back now.”

Jihoon laughed breathlessly, biting his lip—but it turned into a whimper when Dohyun shifted his hips just enough to hit that spot.

“Ah—Dohyun—!”

“You look too good like this,” Dohyun said through a growl, hands locked tight on Jihoon’s waist. “Trying to take control… only to fall apart.”

Jihoon tried to retort, but another roll of Dohyun’s hips shut him up with a helpless moan. He bit down on Dohyun’s shoulder, his back arching, thighs quivering.

Their rhythm built—slow and grinding, then harder. Needier.

Slaps of skin, soft curses, broken whines. Jihoon rocked against him, trying to chase it, but Dohyun held him steady, making him take every thrust.

“You wanted it right?” Dohyun whispered into his ear, breath hot. “So take it. Feel every inch of me.”

“God—ngghh—y-you’re such an asshole,” Jihoon moaned, barely able to breathe.

“Still not stopping,” Dohyun muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Sweat clung to their skin, the room thick with heat and breath and the sound of their bodies moving in sync. Jihoon’s hand gripped Dohyun’s nape, clinging. Their foreheads touched again, lips brushing but never quite kissing.

Jihoon came first—shuddering hard, body tensing, then spilling across Dohyun’s chest with a stifled cry, biting down on his own hand to muffle it.

Dohyun followed moments later—hips thrusting deep, burying himself to the hilt as he groaned raggedly against Jihoon’s neck, voice trembling.

He didn’t move for a while—just stayed there, arms tight around Jihoon’s back, breath heaving.

It wasn’t just climax.

It was catharsis. It was I’m still here. It was I’ve got you.

And Jihoon, breathless and fucked out, whispered against his ear:

“I love you. Even if your spy talk is terrible.”

Dohyun chuckled softly, still inside him, chest rising and falling. “I love you too… Agent Park.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a shameless whisper.

“Especially your tight ass.”

Jihoon groaned in embarrassment, burying his face in Dohyun’s neck. “You ruined it,” he whined, voice muffled. “You literally ruined the moment—”

Dohyun only grinned, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him in tighter.

“Good. I like ruining you.”

———————————————––––—