"That's all, thank you so much." Joshua smiled, placing the groceries on the counter. The cashier returned his smile, a polite, rehearsed expression, as she began to ring up his items.

Joshua watched her work, the rhythmic beep of the scanner filling the silence between them.

He glanced at the overflowing bag she was packing. "They should start putting wheels on these bags," Joshua muttered under his breath as he dragged the bulky bag out of the store.

He tried to look casual, as if he weren’t struggling under its weight, but the strain showed in the tightness of his jaw. He wasn't weak; he just despised heavy lifting.

Today was grocery day, overdue by at least a week. He had meant to come earlier, on the day he ended up going to dinner with Seokmin.

But the thought of that evening was more enticing than the chore of grocery shopping, so he had pushed it back. And now here he was, regretting that decision as he hauled the overstuffed bag alone.

Dinner.

Joshua paused at the store's exit, his eyes narrowing as rain began to pour outside. "Great. Exactly when I forget my umbrella at home. Where are you when I actually bring my umbrella?" he muttered to himself, his gaze following the sheets of rain falling in relentless waves, mocking his misfortune.

He remained under the store's roof, unwilling to face the downpour. If he’d just gone grocery shopping that day, he wouldn’t be stuck here now, stranded by the rain.

That day. Dinner. Seokmin. The exchange of numbers. The kiss on the forehead.

Joshua’s breath hitched, and he set the grocery bag down, his eyes unfocused as they settled on the large, leafy tree across the street. The memory played on a loop in his mind, like a scene from a movie he couldn’t stop replaying.

That night, Seokmin's lips had brushed against his forehead, a gentle, unexpected touch that still sent a shiver down his spine.

He’d tried to convince himself that it meant nothing. Seokmin had probably done it in the heat of the moment and forgotten all about it.

It was meaningless—Joshua had told himself that over and over. Yet here he was, standing in the rain, replaying that single touch, feeling its ghost linger against his skin.

Maybe Seokmin had already moved on. Maybe it was just a casual gesture, nothing more. But then, why couldn’t Joshua stop thinking about it?

Joshua swallowed hard, his throat tightening around the lump that had formed. The rain's steady patter filled his ears, blending with the sound of his racing thoughts.

His fingers curled around the straps of the grocery bag, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. What was he doing? Standing here, letting a kiss on the forehead consume him? It was ridiculous. Childish, even.

He remembered the way Seokmin had smiled across the table, the flicker of candlelight making his features look softer, almost ethereal. That smile had seemed like a promise, like there was something deeper, hidden beneath the surface.

But Joshua knew better than to trust appearances. He had learned to guard his heart, to build walls so high that even he couldn’t see over them.

Maybe he was reading too much into things. Seokmin was kind to everyone; it was just his nature. Joshua tried to remind himself of that, but it didn’t ease the knot in his chest.

It didn’t explain the lingering warmth he felt whenever Seokmin was near, the way his presence seemed to fill up every empty space within him.

Joshua pressed a hand to his forehead, where Seokmin’s lips had touched. The ghost of that moment seemed to burn there still, an indelible mark only he could feel. It had been so brief, so innocent. And yet, it had unraveled him.

"Pretty sure he doesn’t go around confessing to everyone. He likes you!" The voice in Joshua's head sounded more foolish than ever, echoing thoughts he wasn’t ready to accept.

“I should stop overthinking everything—”

“Joshua!”

Joshua's heart stilled. His eyes lit up, a spark of surprise mingling with something deeper, and his cheeks flushed a shade he blamed on the rain.

He turned, his gaze locking onto Seokmin’s car, the dark silhouette parked at the curb where the street met the store’s entrance. Seokmin stood beside it, umbrella in hand, looking like he’d stepped right out of Joshua’s thoughts.

Great. Just when Joshua was thinking about him. It was as if they were somehow telepathically connected, drawn to each other by some invisible force.

How did they keep running into each other like this, as if they were fated? It was ridiculous, even laughable.

“What are you doing out in the rain? Where’s your umbrella? You’re going to get sick like this... Get in.” The soft click of Seokmin’s car door unlocking sounded, and Joshua bit his lip, hesitating.

Should he accept Seokmin’s offer again? Every time he did, he felt himself slipping further into something he wasn’t sure he could control.

“It’s okay, I’ll just take the bus when the rain stops—”

“Inside. Now.” Seokmin’s voice left no room for argument, and Joshua couldn’t help but notice the hint of irritation that flashed in his eyes. He didn’t want to make Seokmin angry, not when all he was trying to do was look out for him.

Joshua let out a sigh, shoulders sagging, and picked up his grocery bag, trudging toward the car.

He opened the door but chose the backseat over the passenger’s side. He needed that distance.

The space to catch his breath, where Seokmin couldn’t hear how loudly his heart was pounding or seeing the confusion swirling in his eyes.

“What were you doing out without any protection? Where’s your umbrella?” Seokmin’s voice was steady as he pulled away from the curb, the engine’s hum filling the silence between them.

Joshua stared out the window, eyes fixed on the blurred outlines of buildings and streetlights, anything to avoid Seokmin’s gaze.

Seokmin glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Joshua’s reflection. The way Joshua’s eyes seemed lost, his face drawn with thought, stirred something inside him.

His fingers clenched the steering wheel, resisting the urge to pull over and drag Joshua’s attention back to him, to demand that Joshua see only him.

“I didn’t think it would start raining this hard,” Joshua’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if the weight of his own thoughts pressed down on him. Seokmin’s heart softened at the sound.

Every time he thought he was losing control, Joshua’s voice, his presence, grounded him. Reminded him of why he needed Joshua close, needed him to be his.

“It’s the rainy season,” Seokmin replied, taking a turn toward Joshua’s neighborhood.

“You should know better than to be so careless.” His tone was firm, edged with concern, and Joshua pressed his lips together, knowing he had no excuse.

Joshua remained silent, unwilling to argue. He knew he was wrong this time. A shiver ran down his spine as the atmosphere in the car shifted, a chill that had nothing to do with the rain.

Relief washed over him when he saw his house come into view, the familiar shape bringing a sense of safety, of escape.

“Next time, be more careful.” Seokmin’s voice dropped to a low murmur, a dark undertone threading through his words that left Joshua's nerves on edge. Joshua nodded quickly as he opened the door, noticing that the rain had finally eased.

"It's okay, I'm fine. A small cold won't do anything bad—"

"It's more than a small cold," Seokmin cut in sharply, his eyes boring into Joshua’s.

“I don’t want you getting sick.” The intensity of his gaze made Joshua's heart skip a beat. Seokmin’s concern always felt like a double-edged sword—sharp, cutting, yet oddly comforting.

Joshua swallowed, forcing a smile to his lips as he replied, "I'll be more careful, I promise." He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, my brother-in-law would hate it if he found out his best friend got sick because of the rain.”

Seokmin’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly. “Right,” Joshua muttered, shrugging as if it didn’t matter.

“Jeonghan would hate it.” Joshua agrees. But the way Seokmin’s eyes flickered to Joshua’s face betrayed the tension simmering beneath his calm facade.

Joshua knew he was lying. Seokmin's concern wasn't for Jeonghan's reaction. It was for Joshua, and only Joshua.

“The blue shirt looks good on you,” Joshua said softly, his eyes lingering on Seokmin's royal blue shirt. Ever since their tuxedo dinner, he had noticed Seokmin favoring blue shades.

Was it just a coincidence, or did Seokmin wear blue on purpose? A deliberate choice to match Joshua’s preference?

Seokmin’s eyes darkened slightly at the compliment, his gaze dropping to the floor. Joshua’s eyes widened as he caught the faintest hint of color creeping up Seokmin’s neck, his ears turning red.

Seokmin was blushing.

Seeing Seokmin, always so composed, falter like this felt like uncovering a secret. A tiny thrill shot through Joshua at the sight.

“T-thank you,” Seokmin stammered, clearing his throat awkwardly. The stutter slipped out unbidden, and Joshua bit his lip to hold back a smile.

Seeing Seokmin flustered was rare and strangely endearing. It softened the dark edges that always seemed to surround him.

Joshua stepped out of the car, glancing back at Seokmin, whose eyes were fixed straight ahead, expression unreadable. Even though he was silent, Joshua could sense the tension radiating off him in waves.

He hesitated, biting his lip, the question that had been on his mind for days lingering on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he should invite him in. Try to bridge the distance between them that seemed to grow with each encounter.

“Do you want to come in for coffee?” Joshua asked, bending down to peer into the car. Seokmin’s gaze snapped to him, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel stopped abruptly.

Joshua’s invitation sent a jolt of electricity through Seokmin’s veins. The idea of being alone with Joshua in the privacy of his home, where no one could interfere—was both intoxicating and dangerous.

A temptation that his mind kept circling back to. He knew he should say no, maintain some semblance of distance, but the dark desire curling in his chest overrode his better judgment.

Seokmin sucked in a sharp breath, the scent of rain and something sweeter filling his lungs. He could feel his resolve slipping, the tight control he kept on his emotions unraveling with each beat of his heart.

“Sure,” he finally said, his voice low and rough, eyes locked on Joshua’s. His heart pounded, the restraint he prided himself on slipping through his fingers like sand.

Joshua’s heart fluttered at Seokmin’s acceptance, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. He straightened up and headed toward his front door, feeling Seokmin’s presence behind him like a dark shadow.

The tension followed them up the steps, into the house, clinging to the air like the lingering mist of rain.

Joshua slipped off his shoes, his movements careful and controlled. He didn’t want Seokmin to see how much his hands were trembling.

Seokmin stepped in after him, the door clicking shut with a soft finality that echoed in the stillness of the house.

The sound made Joshua shiver. He kept his back to Seokmin, afraid of what he might see if he turned around—afraid of the intensity that always blazed in Seokmin’s eyes.

“Surprise!” The unexpected voice shattered the silence. Seokmin’s body went rigid, hand instinctively reaching for the concealed gun at his side, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

Joshua blinked, disoriented, as the lights flickered on, revealing Jeonghan standing in the living room, a playful smile on his lips.

Seokmin’s eyes narrowed, his hand easing away from his weapon, irritation flashing across his features. He hated Jeonghan’s casual disregard for privacy, his way of showing up unannounced, always intruding.

“Jeonghan?” Joshua said, surprise coloring his tone. “What are you doing here?” He sounded genuinely curious, the sight of his best friend after so long sparking a faint smile.

Seokmin’s gaze shifted to Jun, Jeonghan’s bodyguard, who stood in the background holding a confetti popper. The sight of Jun trying to play tough made Seokmin roll his eyes.

The man acted like a bodyguard but was just another pawn in Jeonghan's endless games. Seokmin wondered how many times Jun had to put up with Jeonghan’s antics.

“I missed you!” Jeonghan exclaimed, launching himself at Joshua with open arms. Seokmin’s jaw clenched, a dark anger simmering beneath his calm facade.

The casual touch, the familiarity—it grated on him, filling him with a possessiveness he barely managed to contain.

He resisted the urge to pull them apart, the desire to claim Joshua for himself, to make it clear that he wasn’t someone Jeonghan could just take away.

“I missed you too,” Joshua said, his smile widening as he hugged Jeonghan back. Seokmin’s teeth ground together, his eyes fixed on the two of them.

When had Joshua ever said those words to him?

When had he ever missed Seokmin, felt the same restless longing that Seokmin carried with him every second they were apart?

Seokmin’s fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. The thought of Joshua not feeling the same way, of not being consumed by the same dark need—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

Joshua’s control, his effortless ability to remain detached, drove Seokmin mad. It was pathetic how much power Joshua held over him without even realizing it. How much he could make Seokmin want with just a smile, a glance.

The room felt too small, too suffocating, with Jeonghan’s laughter filling the space that should have belonged to Seokmin and Joshua alone.

Seokmin forced himself to take a deep breath, to pull back the dark tendrils of jealousy threatening to wrap around his mind. He had to remember the game they were playing, the control he needed to maintain.

Even if it killed him.

"Let me give you a hint about my intentions with Joshua," Seokmin leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that sent a shiver down Jeonghan's spine.

The air between them crackled with tension as Seokmin’s dark eyes bore into Jeonghan’s, triggering every protective instinct Jeonghan had.

"I want him," Seokmin continued, a slow, predatory smile curving his lips, "and nothing—absolutely nothing—is going to stop me."

Jeonghan's glare intensified, his jaw clenching at the brazen declaration. The silent challenge hung heavy in the air, thickening the already suffocating atmosphere between them.

-----

"--and then he gripped his thighs, eyes locked with his, breathing shallow, desire palpable--"

"What the hell?" Vernon snaps, cutting Seungkwan off. His glare is sharp enough to pierce through steel, but Seungkwan just blinks up at him, feigning innocence.

"What?" Seungkwan's tone is casual, too casual, and Vernon’s jaw clenches. "You said you needed inspiration. What kind of inspiration are you trying to get from me?" Vernon's voice is a low growl, and Seungkwan can practically feel the tension radiating from him.

Seungkwan smirks, biting his lip. "I just needed help with a scene. Why are you being so aggressive about it?" He bats his eyelashes, watching as Vernon stands, fists clenched at his sides. The bed creaks under his weight shift.

"I said I’d help, but not with a damn sex scene, Seungkwan," Vernon hisses, his voice laced with frustration. His gaze flickers to the floor, refusing to meet Seungkwan’s teasing eyes.

"A scene is a scene, Captain. Why does it bother you so much?" Seungkwan’s voice is smooth, laced with mock sweetness. Vernon looks away, his jaw tightening.

Of course, why would it bother him? Vernon is straight, at least that's what he keeps telling himself. Yet, the growing tension in his pants says otherwise, and the fact that it's Seungkwan causing it makes his blood boil with shame and irritation.

“I’d rather help you choreograph a fight scene,” Vernon mutters under his breath, his annoyance evident. Seungkwan’s eyes narrow, catching the undercurrent of desire in Vernon’s frustration.

“I wonder what my brother would say if he found out about this little conversation,” Seungkwan says, voice dripping with menace. Vernon's head snaps up, a dangerous glare in his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Vernon's voice is low, almost a whisper, as if he's afraid to hear the answer.

A sly smile spreads across Seungkwan's face. He takes a step closer to Vernon, eyes dark and unreadable. “I want to see you snap. I told you, you’re hottest when you're angry.”

He shrugs, brushing past Vernon, letting their shoulders graze as he walks away, leaving Vernon standing there, seething and helpless against the magnetic pull of Seungkwan’s provocations.

Vernon grabs Seungkwan's wrist, yanking him back before he can take another step. The air between them is thick with unspoken tension, and Seungkwan’s heart beats a little faster as he looks up at Vernon.

“What’s this? Developing a crush on your bodyguard?” Vernon taunts, his tone sharp, aiming to strike a nerve. But Seungkwan only laughs, the sound bright and mocking, echoing through the room.

“Please, as if you could ever reach my standards, Captain,” Seungkwan scoffs, wrapping his arms around Vernon’s neck with ease. The move is casual, almost affectionate, but Vernon’s muscles tense.

He’s trapped within Seungkwan’s embrace, his eyes locked on Seungkwan’s, trying to read the truth behind the teasing grin.

“Is that so?” Vernon murmurs, his voice low and challenging. “What exactly are these standards of yours?” His hands hover at Seungkwan’s waist, aching to pull him closer, but Vernon keeps his control, fighting the urge to touch.

“Anything but you,” Seungkwan replies, voice smooth as silk, fingers brushing along Vernon’s jawline. The touch is light, almost teasing, but the words cut deep, sharper than any blade.

Vernon clenches his jaw but doesn’t pull back. Instead, he leans in, close enough for Seungkwan to feel his breath against his ear.

“You talk a big game,” Vernon says softly, his voice is a dangerous whisper, “but your actions say otherwise. You keep pulling me in, testing me, as if you’re looking for something more.”

Seungkwan’s smirk remains, but his eyes flicker with something darker, a shadow of desire hidden beneath his facade.

“Maybe I just enjoy playing with my food,” he purrs, pressing his body against Vernon’s, hips brushing just enough to set Vernon’s nerves alight.

“Or maybe,” Vernon counters, his hands finally gripping Seungkwan’s waist, his touch firm and unyielding, “you’re the one being played, and you’re too caught up in your games to realize it.” His fingers dig into Seungkwan’s sides, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

Seungkwan steadies himself, his heartbeat quickening but his voice unwavering. “If that’s the case,” he challenges, “then prove it. Because all I see is a bodyguard who’s far too invested in his job.”

His smirk deepens, his lips inches away from Vernon’s. “Or maybe it’s me you’re obsessed with.”

Vernon’s eyes darken, his patience thinning. “You’re pushing your luck, Seungkwan,” he growls, voice dripping with a threat. “One day, you’ll go too far, and I won’t be able to hold back.”

Seungkwan’s lips brush against Vernon’s ear, his whisper like a taunt, “Maybe that’s what I’m counting on.” His fingers slide into