From Friday afternoon to Saturday night, time passed like a fleeting arrow.
For the most part, Kwon Taehee kept Seo Jeong-won close—gently touching his or stroking his hair.
To ease the silence that made Jeong-won uncomfortable, Taehee played a popular film.
He didn’t know he had discreetly released pheromones.
He wouldn’t have noticed anyway—his own scent was all that lingered on his delicate skin.
Seo Jeong-won, absorbed in the screen like a child immersed in a cartoon, was completely unaware.
Taehee, in turn, focused solely on him.
It felt like being taken back to childhood—receiving a toy he never really wanted, yet playing with it endlessly and finding joy in it.
“Jeong-won.”
“Yes?”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“Yes… I see why it was a hit.”
His black eyes sparkled.
As the movie reached its climax, Taehee set his tablet down and turned to him, brushing his hand softly against his warm cheek.
He smiled a little, awkwardly but not unpleasantly.
Leaning against the back of the sofa, Taehee held his gaze.
His innocent eyes flickered, not quite catching the meaning behind his look.
“Does it still hurt?”
His question was soft, but even without specifics, he understood.
There was no need to lie—he would’ve seen through it anyway.
So he nodded.
Quietly, he told himself he wouldn’t forget to take his medicine this time.
Taehee’s hand moved from his cheek to gently graze his lips.
His fingers paused at the corner of his mouth before guiding him closer.
He leaned into his arms, light and unresisting.
Resting him on his lap, he adjusted their posture.
“Can I kiss you?”
“…Yes.”
Jeong-won looked up at him, his gaze steady, and slowly tilted his head.
He had complimented his beauty before, but if he had to be honest, he was the truly beautiful one.
Every feature on his face felt perfectly placed—he could’ve been sculpted.
It was the kind of beauty that made one wonder about his parents.
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“…Yes. Very.”
“You won’t find many prettier than me.”
“I believe that.”
People that beautiful usually carried some arrogance, didn’t they?
But Taehee wasn’t like that.
There was no vanity in his voice, only certainty.
It was strange—somehow comforting.
He pressed his lips gently against his.
His were smooth, the pressure featherlight.
The scent of his skin was cool, but there was warmth in how he responded.
He was unsure what to do—this kind of intimacy was still new to him.
But he tried, slowly learning his rhythm.
Taehee’s hand cradled the back of his head, guiding him softly.
His voice, playful but never mocking, filled the quiet space between them.
“It’s your first time… for a lot of things, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t answer, only nodded.
His breath was quick, his body warm.
“Should we… go further?” he asked, voice low and tender.
“Only if you want to.”
His touch was slow and deliberate, more comforting than demanding.
Jeong-won responded by drawing closer, his movements unsure but genuine.
He was learning, one careful step at a time—trying to understand both him and himself in this vulnerable closeness.
When he noticed his hesitation, Taehee paused and cupped his cheek, brushing away the nervous moisture from his lashes.
“You’re doing well,” he whispered.
“Just breathe.”
He tried to follow his lead, though the unfamiliarity of it all left him unsettled.
He guided him patiently, never rushing.
Later, when things became overwhelming, Taehee noticed his unease.
He held him close again, letting him rest against his chest.
“It’s okay to take your time. Everything new feels strange at first.”
“…Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Though he was flustered, he made the effort to understand him—what he liked, what he meant.
He swallowed his nerves, along with the lingering awkwardness, reminding himself that maybe this closeness was a kind of learning too.
But Taehee, watching his discomfort grow, seemed momentarily displeased.
“Does it feel… strange?” he asked gently.
Jeong-won’s eyes welled up, and he nodded slightly, trying to explain through his tears that it was just all unfamiliar.
Taehee didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, he brushed his cheek once more, letting the silence speak for him.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the way I love.”
“Okay…”
He managed a response, fragile but sincere.
“Heh, heuh…”
Even as thick tears streamed down his face, Seo Jeong-won reached out and touched Kwon Tae-hee with trembling hands.
He leaned in, seeking closeness, then recoiled slightly with a shiver as emotion overwhelmed him.
Eventually, he collapsed against his firm leg, quietly sobbing.
“I… I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he whispered, his voice heavy with confusion—part question, part plea.
In response, Kwon Tae-hee gently moved closer, shifting their positions with a calm ease.
Now lying back on the sofa, Seo Jeong-won blinked through teary eyes at the man who had settled between his knees.
With steady hands, he began to undress him, careful and deliberate.
As his lips pressed softly against his bare skin, he gasped involuntarily.
His stomach tightened with nerves, rising and falling rapidly.
He held him gently, revealing the most vulnerable parts of his body, his movements respectful yet intimate.
“Maybe today, you’ll understand why,” he murmured.
As he continued, Seo Jeong-won responded with surprising sensitivity, his body tense and unsure, but receptive.
Kwon Tae-hee moved slowly, attentively—leaving traces of care with every touch, with every moment he remained close.
A breathless sound escaped his lips—an involuntary reaction to the intensity of the connection.
Despite never having done this before, Kwon Tae-hee didn’t feel discomfort.
Strangely, being close to him felt natural.
Seo Jeong-won’s form was beautiful in its honesty.
There was no shame, no hesitation—only openness.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.