Chapter 55
The alleyway behind the barbecue restaurant was a vacuum of cold air and jagged tension. Haru felt the heat of Min-hyuk's body through his clothes, a suffocating, proprietary weight that made the hair on his neck stand up. His instincts were screaming for distance, but the physical reality of Haru's life was currently pinned between two different kinds of predators.
"Are you okay, baby?" Min-hyuk asked. His voice was a low, dangerous purr, and his arm tightened around Haru's waist with a firm, bruising strength.
Juno, who only moments ago had been radiating the smug confidence of a spouled brat, looked as if he had been doused in ice water. He stared at Min-hyuk - noticing the calculating coldness in his eyes, and the sheer physical presence of a man who didn't play by the rules of polite society. Juno's bravado shattered like cheap glass.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't know he was..." Juno's voice trailed off into a pathetic, high-pitched stutter. He looked at Haru, then back at the looming shadow of the debt collector, and realized he had accidentally stepped into a much deeper, darker pool than he was prepared for.
"You should go back in," Min-hyuk said. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an ultimatum delivered with a lethal, quiet finality.
Juno didn't wait for a second warning. He scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own designer shoes, and vanished through the restaurant's back door with the speed of a frightened rabbit.
The silence that rushed back into the alley was heavy. Haru didn't waste a second. As soon as the door clicked shut, he forcefully pried Min-hyuk's hand off his hip, a look of pure, unadulterated loathing on his face. He stepped away, his movements sharp and agitated, and fished his cigarette pack out to stow the none-smoked stick back into its box. His hands were steady, but his eyes were burning.
"I didn't know you smoked," Min-hyuk remarked, his tone shifting. The lethal edge was gone, replaced by a casual, almost conversational curiosity that Haru found even more grating.
"What are you doing here?" Haru asked. His voice was like a shard of ice -indifferent, cold, and utterly lacking the fear Min-hyuk was clearly used to before. He knew the person he was dealing with was different from before.
Min-hyuk cleared his throat, his gaze drifting away from Haru's piercing stare to focus on a random point on the brick wall. "I was just in the neighborhood."
Haru let out a short, scoffing laugh. "In the neighborhood? At a wrap party for a drama I'm in? Did your henchmen not deliver my message?"
"They did."
Haru cursed under his breath, the sound sharp in the quiet alley. He turned on his heel and began walking toward the main road, his pace fast and determined. He wanted to go home. He would text Alice later, to inform.the crew an emergency came up, or simply offer no explanation at all. He just needed to be away from this man.
"I told you," Haru snarled, spinning around so abruptly that Min-hyuk, who had been following a few paces behind, almost collided with him. Haru didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his words dripping with acid. "I am not paying a single won for that pathetic man. Not today, not ever. If you're here for the money, you're wasting your breath."
Min-hyuk looked down at him. The height difference wasn't significant but haru was a bit taller than him, and they were standing close - dangerously so. Haru could see the slight roughness of the other man's jaw, the scent of expensive tobacco clinging to his coat. But Haru didn't move back. His face remained a mask of neutral, frozen fury.
"I didn't say anything about the debt," Min-hyuk said quietly.
Haru didn't wait for an elaboration. He turned back toward the road, his heart hammering with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. "I can give you a ride," Min-hyuk interjected, his voice raising slightly as Haru reached the curb.
"I don't need it," Haru snapped. He flagged down a passing taxi, his arm straight and insistent. The first one roared past, but he didn't lower his hand.
"Why are you so stubborn?" Min-hyuk's voice held a note of genuine disbelief.
Haru looked back over his shoulder one last time. The look he gave Min-hyuk was a silent, devastating question: Are you seriously asking me that? Then he turned his attention back to the street until a taxi finally screeched to a halt in front of him.
"I don't want to see you again," Haru said firmly. He pulled the door open and slid into the back seat before Min-hyuk could utter another word.
Min-hyuk stood on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, watching the red taillights of the taxi disappear into the neon haze of Seoul.
*****
The following twenty-four hours were a blur of frantic logistics. Between the chaos of customs and a frustrating two-hour flight delay, Haru's nerves were frayed to the breaking point. By the time he finally reached his destination, the sun had set over the city of Milan, casting long, elegant shadows across the cobblestone streets.
Now, he sat in the darkened corner of a luxury hotel suite, the only light coming from the distant glow of the streetlamps below. He bit his lip, shifting restlessly in the plush armchair. As Sunghoon, he had been many things - composed, calculated, and professional. He had never been spontaneous. He had never flown across a continent on a whim for a relationship that hadn't even officially started.
He checked his phone. Raiven birthday posts had already surpassed a million . He saw the flood of love from fans, the "Happy Birthday Raiven" hashtags trending globally. He truly was a star.
He had contacted Mae-rin to help him get the phone number for Raiven's manager. She had been more than excited to help, sensing the underlying urgency in his request. And now, the plan was in motion. He had a small, simple cake sitting on the coffee table. It wasn't the gold-leafed, multi-tiered monstrosity Raiven was probably used to from his high-profile sponsors. It was just a cake.
Haru let out a shaky breath, running his hands over his face. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought. The silence of the room felt heavy, amplified by the ticking of his own heart.
Then, his phone pinged. A message from Manager Kim: "Raiven is on his way up. 2 minutes."
Haru's stomach did a violent flip. He stood up, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. He leaned down and carefully lit the candles on the cake, the small flames flickering to life and casting a warm, golden glow across his face. He positioned himself in front of the door, holding the cake with both hands.
He remembered their phone calls over the last month - the raspy, late-night talks and the shared silence. Raiven had said he wanted to talk about "what happened" after the tour was over. He wanted to do it properly. But Haru couldn't wait. Being away for one month and the reality of his situation had made him realize that life was too short to wait for the "right time." It would be six months before the tour actually ended and he truly didn't have patience to wait that long he didn't even know if he had that amount of time.
He heard footsteps in the hallway. Soft, rhythmic. Then the sound of the keycard clicking in the lock.
The door swung open. The lights flickered on, momentarily blinding Haru.
Raiven stood in the doorway, frozen. He was dressed in a casual tracksuit, his gym bag hanging from one shoulder. His datk blue hair was messy, and he looked exhausted -until his eyes landed on Haru. For a split second, Raiven looked like he had seen a ghost. His jaw dropped, and the air seemed to leave his lungs in a single, sharp huff.
"Happy birthday," Haru said, his voice soft but steady, a smile finally breaking through his nerves as he held out the cake.
Before he could even process the movement, Raiven had dropped his gym bag. It hit the floor with a heavy thud as he lunged forward, throwing his arms around Haru. He pulled him into a fierce, crushing hug that nearly sent the cake flying. Haru's reflexes kicked in, balancing the cake just in time.
"What are you doing here?" Raiven breathed into Haru's neck, his voice thick with a mixture of shock and sheer, unbridled relief. He stepped back just enough to look at Haru's face, his hands still gripping Haru's shoulders as if making sure he was real.
"Happy birthday," Haru repeated, bringing the cake back between them.
Raiven smiled. It wasn't the practiced, perfect smile he gave the cameras. It was genuine - wide, slightly dazed, and glowing with warmth. He leaned forward and blew out the candles in a single breath.
He took the cake from Haru's hands, carefully placing it on the nearby table without taking his eyes off him. Then, he turned back. He didn't say a word. He simply reached out, his hands finding Haru's waist and pulling him flush against his chest.
The kiss was everything the dirt road hadn't been. It was also soft, a quiet confession of a desire that had finally found its home.
Haru let himself drown in it. He reached up, his fingers tangling in Raiven's long, soft hair, tugging gently to pull him even closer. He felt the vibration of a low moan in Raiven's throat as the kiss deepened, their tongues tangling in a slow, rhythmic dance.
Raiven felt like he was melting into the carpet. He had fallen into an abyss of emotion he didn't know the end of, and for the first time in his life , he didn't care about the fall.