The night had finally arrived. Excitement was in the air, shimmering like the stars above. A luxurious black car pulled up in front of a massive estate draped in dazzling lights and echoing music. Jungwon and Kwon stepped out, accompanied by the same seniors who had taken them shopping the day before.
Jungwon's eyes widened. "This… this is the venue?"
Kwon, equally stunned, looked up at the grand mansion. "It's like something out of a movie," he murmured, adjusting the collar of his green shirt nervously.
The entrance was swarming with students—dressed to impress, glowing under the golden lights. Expensive cars lined the driveway, and a red carpet led the way into the mansion, guarded by a towering marble archway. The party was already in full swing.
Inside, the energy was electrifying. Laughter echoed from every corner, and stylish boys and girls moved like stars across the glossy floors. Flashy, fragrant, flawless. The music pulsed through the massive ballroom, where a chandelier sparkled like a galaxy overhead.
Kwon stuck close to Jungwon, his steps cautious, his eyes scanning everything. He was curious and slightly intimidated—this wasn't his usual crowd. Hot girls floated around the room like they owned it, some glancing his way with sly smirks. It was clear many had come with a mission: to turn heads and steal hearts.
In the middle of taking in the sights, Kwon realized something unsettling—Jungwon was gone.
"What the—Jungwon?" he called, turning around.
No response.
Panic didn't strike immediately, but unease crept in. He decided to search, weaving through the sea of strangers and opulence. In the midst of looking, a server passed by with a tray of wine glasses. Without much thought, Kwon reached out and took one.
He sipped. Dry, bitter. Just like this whole night felt so far.
He took another step forward—then bam! He collided into someone, the wine sloshing out of the glass and splashing over a crisp white shirt.
Kwon's eyes widened in horror. "I—I'm so sorry! That was totally my fault, I didn't—"
He looked up.
It was Tae.
Tall. Sharp-eyed. Unnervingly calm.
"Tae…" Kwon whispered, as if the name had been yanked from the back of his throat. "I didn't mean to—I really am sorry."
Tae didn't flinch. He simply kept his eyes locked on Kwon. That gaze—intense, unreadable—made Kwon squirm.
"I meant, Tae, I'm really, really sorry," he said again, bowing slightly, desperate to escape the moment.
He was about to walk away when a firm hand grabbed his wrist.
"Who told you to leave?" Tae's voice was low, but it carried weight.
Kwon blinked. "W-What?"
Tae tilted his head. "You spilled wine on me. You're responsible now, aren't you?"
"I can—I can take it and wash it for you. I'll give it back—"
"No need. Follow me."
Before Kwon could protest, Tae had already turned, still holding his wrist, leading him through the crowd and into a quieter hallway. The music faded behind them as the walls narrowed, leading to a private room.
Inside, the room was lavish—dimly lit, scented candles burning softly, casting flickering shadows.
Tae gestured for Kwon to sit. He obeyed, unsure of what else to do.
Tae walked over to a desk, unbuttoning his now stained shirt. Kwon swallowed nervously, trying not to stare—but failing. Tae's torso was lean and defined, glowing slightly under the warm lights. Kwon's breath hitched.
Tae sat casually on the desk and wet a towel, then beckoned him closer. "Wipe it off. Feels sticky."
Kwon froze. Was this a joke?
But the look in Tae's eyes told him it wasn't. Guilt urged him forward. He took the towel and began dabbing gently at Tae's chest.
The moment felt electric. Every inch closer brought a warmth Kwon couldn't explain. His hand lingered too long, his eyes tracing the hard lines of Tae's abs, the way his skin reacted to the touch. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath.
Suddenly, Tae's arm slid around his waist, pulling him closer. Kwon's eyes widened.
"W-What are you doing?" he stammered, heart racing.
Tae didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "Kwon… I like you."
Kwon blinked rapidly. "What are you even saying?"
"I know I'll be graduating soon," Tae murmured, "but I want you to be mine."
His hand moved up to the back of Kwon's neck, fingers curling gently. "Can I kiss you?"
Kwon was stunned. He couldn't think, couldn't move.
But Tae didn't wait for an answer. He leaned in and kissed him.
Kwon flinched—eyes wide, heart pounding—trying to break free. But Tae's grip tightened, both hands firm on his waist.
Kwon gasped into the kiss, and Tae used the moment to deepen it, sliding one hand up under Kwon's shirt to feel the warmth of his back.
Tae's lips moved skillfully, passionately, but Kwon wasn't sure what he felt. Confusion? Fire? Shame?
Tae paused. "Let me in," he whispered against Kwon's lips.
But Kwon clenched his teeth shut, refusing.
Tae's expression darkened playfully. "You asked for it."
He bit Kwon's lower lip gently and pinched his side—just hard enough to make Kwon gasp. That was all it took. Tae dove back in, kissing him more deeply, tasting that small burst of pain and surprise.
Kwon moaned softly—against his will.
The world around them blurred. The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, until Tae finally pulled back, lips still hovering inches from Kwon's.
Kwon, shaking, pushed Tae with all his might. He scrambled for the door—but it didn't budge.
"Locked," Tae said calmly, holding up a small remote. "Don't worry. I'll let you go."
Then, softer, "Just think about what I said… about being mine."
Kwon turned, breathless, disoriented.
"Oh—and don't worry about your friend," Tae added. "He's somewhere safe."
The lock clicked open.
Kwon didn't wait another second. He yanked the door open and ran down the hall.
Behind him, Tae stood still, his shirt still undone.
And he smiled.
Somewhere deeper within the opulent party mansion, beyond the lights and laughter, Jungwon wandered alone.
The building seemed endless, with gilded hallways and marble staircases, like a castle carved from wealth. His curiosity had gotten the best of him. Every turn offered something new: balconies overlooking moonlit gardens, whispering couples tucked into corners, and an orchestra tuning its strings in a hidden parlor.
Then suddenly—a hand grabbed him.
"Hey! What are you—" Jungwon snapped, yanked backward.
"Shhh…" a voice slurred.
It was Sechan.
His eyes were half-lidded, his movements loose, unsteady—clearly drunk. His expensive cologne mingled with the bitter scent of alcohol.
"You again?" Jungwon muttered, frowning as he tried to shake Sechan's arm off. "What do you want from me?"
Sechan stared at him for a moment, like he was trying to focus. Then, without a word, he pulled Jungwon into a hug.
"I thought you weren't coming tonight," Sechan mumbled, burying his face in Jungwon's shoulder. "But thank God you did…"
Jungwon stiffened. "What do you mean? Were you… waiting for me?"
Sechan nodded slowly, his breath warm. "I'm happy whenever I see you," he murmured.
Before Jungwon could respond, Sechan pulled him into a tighter hug—this time, more possessive. Jungwon struggled, caught off guard. The older boy was heavier than he looked, weighed down by drink and emotion.
"This isn't okay," Jungwon said, wincing from the smell of wine on Sechan's breath.
Luckily, just then, a waiter appeared down the hall.
"Hey!" Jungwon called out. "Can you help me out here?"
The waiter walked over, noticing Sechan's condition immediately. "Ah, Master Sechan's private room is just around the corner. Let's get him there."
They half-carried, half-dragged Sechan to a sleek, dark door at the far end of the hall. The waiter reached into Sechan's coat and pulled out a slim keycard. He slid it through the reader and the door opened with a quiet chime.
Handing the card to Jungwon, the waiter said, "I'm sorry, I can't assist you further. Party staff policy."
"What? You're just leaving me here with him?" Jungwon protested, struggling to hold Sechan up.
But the waiter had already turned and disappeared into the shadows.
"Unbelievable," Jungwon muttered.
Left with no choice, he helped Sechan inside and laid him on the bed.
Sechan groaned. "It's hot… and stuffy."
Jungwon sighed. "This is what happens when you drink beyond your limit." He began unbuttoning Sechan's shirt to cool him off, careful and detached. He also slipped off his shoes, trying to keep things practical, clinical.
Sechan sat up suddenly. "My throat feels dry."
Jungwon glanced at him. "And whose fault is that? You knew you couldn't handle alcohol. Why even bother?"
He turned to fetch some water from the minibar—but before he could move, Sechan yanked him down onto the bed.
Jungwon hit the mattress with a startled grunt. "W-What the hell?!"
Sechan hovered above him, eyes glazed but burning with some unreadable intensity. "I can't handle alcohol… but I know I can handle you," he whispered, then leaned in and bit Jungwon's neck lightly.
"Are you insane?!" Jungwon flailed beneath him. "Let me go! You're drunk!"
But Sechan only smirked. "Stop moving, or I can't guarantee your safety."
Jungwon froze, staring at him in disbelief. "This isn't funny. I'll scream."
Sechan laughed, low and dangerous. "Scream? Then I'll just have to silence you… with my lips—or maybe something more creative."
He trailed his fingers down Jungwon's chest and pressed his face against the crook of Jungwon's neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin there.
Jungwon's breath hitched involuntarily. "Stop—stop doing that!" he cried, struggling harder.
Sechan's hands locked Jungwon's wrists above his head, pinning him down.
Jungwon was now gasping, flustered, heart pounding. "Please… this isn't okay…"
But Sechan, still in a haze, whispered near his ear, "I like you. I've had feelings for you for a while."
Jungwon, caught between disbelief and discomfort, turned his head away. "Then don't do this… not like this."
Sechan stopped suddenly, staring at Jungwon.
After a long silence, he sighed, as though sobering slightly. Then he collapsed beside him on the bed and whispered, "Can I just… hug you for a little while?"
Jungwon hesitated. Something in Sechan's voice—vulnerable, quiet—stilled him.
"Fine," he muttered. "Just don't try anything else."
"Thank you," Sechan mumbled, resting his head on Jungwon's shoulder.
Minutes passed.
The weight of Sechan's body grew still. His breathing slowed. Gentle. Even.
"Hey," Jungwon whispered. "Are you… asleep?"
No answer.
Slowly, cautiously, Jungwon untangled himself and stood. He waited to be sure Sechan wouldn't stir.
When he was confident the older boy had dozed off, he made his way to the door, heart racing.
He stepped outside into the hallway, the cool air hitting his face like a splash of relief.
He could finally breathe.
He leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath.
Inside the room, Sechan stirred briefly in his sleep.
And smiled.