Chapter 56
The luxury suite in Milan was a world away from the grit of Seoul's back alleys. Here, the air was scented with expensive linens and the faint, sugary fragrance of the strawberry cake sitting forgotten on the coffee table. The only sound was the frantic, rhythmic hitching of their breath as they clung to one another in the center of the room.
Haru let out a low, shuddering moan against Raiven's lips, his fingers tangling desperately in those long, blue-tinted strands. The kiss wasn't just a greeting; it was a physical manifestation of a month's worth of repressed longing. He felt Raiven's arms tighten around his waist, pulling him so flush against his chest that Haru could feel the rapid, staccato thrumming of the other man's heart.
He allowed himself to melt, his resolve dissolving into the heat of Raiven's touch. He explored Raiven's mouth with a slow, deliberate hunger, their tongues engaging in a shared, liquid dance that made the room tilt on its axis. Haru felt a wave of vertigo wash over him; if Raiven weren't anchoring him, he was certain his knees would have given way. He wanted to suffocate in this feeling - to let the rest of the world, simply burn away in this friction.
When they finally broke apart for air, it was only by a fraction of an inch. Their foreheads rested against each other, their lungs working in tandem to reclaim the oxygen they had just surrendered.
"I missed you," Haru whispered, the words catching in his throat. He followed the confession with a soft, lingering peck on Raiven's swollen lips. In that moment, logic was silent.
He realized that no amount of high-definition video calls or late-night voice notes could ever replicate the electricity of Raiven's physical presence. Being here was reckless, expensive, and a logistical nightmare - but it was the first time in this new life that Haru felt truly awake.
Raiven let out a breathy, incredulous chuckle, returning the peck before slowly easing his grip, though he kept his hands resting lightly on Haru's hips. "I missed you too. I actually can't believe you're standing in my room."
They were both a mess. Their hair was wild, their clothes rumpled from the force of their want from earlier, but neither cared. The "Idol" and the "actor" had been left at the door; in the dim light of the suite, they were just two people orbiting each other.
Raiven reached out, picking up a silver fork from the table. He took a small, tentative bite of the cake Haru had brought. His eyes widened slightly as the flavor hit his palate.
"Strawberry," Raiven murmured, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss crossing his face as he let out a soft moan of appreciation.
"Who would have thought the 'Ice Prince' had a weakness for strawberries?" Haru teased, his confidence returning. He took the fork from Raiven's hand, carved out a generous piece, and held it up to Raiven's lips.
Raiven laughed - a genuine, lighthearted sound that Haru rarely heard he wanted to hear it more, he wanted to memorise the the beats of it - and took the bite. To his surprise, Haru didn't pull the fork away immediately. Instead, he swiped a bit of the stray whipped cream with his index finger and bopped it onto the tip of Raiven's nose.
"Hey!" Raiven protested, though his eyes were dancing with warmth.
Haru laughed, feeling a surge of triumph. He had grilled Hae-rin and even pestered Manager Kim to confirm the flavor. He'd pictured Raiven as a sophisticated vanilla or perhaps a sharp lemon kind of guy, but the reality was much different. Hae-rin had even whispered that Raiven kept a secret stash of candy in his bags - a stash that Suho frequently raided.
"I really can't believe you came all this way," Raiven said again, his voice dropping to a breathless register as he searched Haru's face.
"Well… I've always wanted to see more of the world," Haru said, trying to regain some of his cool composure. "I thought, why not start with Milan?"
"So I'm just a stop on your bucket list?" Raiven asked, feigning a wounded expression as he clutched his chest with dramatic flair.
Haru didn't answer with words. He leaned in and kissed him again - not the deep, soul-searing kiss from before, but something tender and reaffirming. Raiven met him halfway, his touch softening.
"I know we aren't officially dating yet," Haru said, pulling back just far enough to look Raiven in the eye. "But I wanted to be here for this. For you."
"Who knew you were such a romantic?" Raiven teased, his smile widening.
"I have my moments," Haru said, playfully squaring his shoulders and adjusting his collar with a boastful smirk.
As the laughter subsided, a comfortable, heavy silence settled over them. The dim, warm lights of the suite created a sanctuary of gold and shadow. Haru felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The playfulness died away, replaced by the raw sincerity he had been carrying.
"Would you like to… to actually date?" Haru asked. His voice was serious now, stripped of its teasing edge. He looked down at the cake, his heart performing a nervous staccato against his ribs. "I know I told you I'd never dated a guy before. And I told you I liked someone else ... but I can't keep living in the past."
He looked up, his eyes scanning Raiven's face with an intensity that felt like a physical touch. "Looking at you makes me feel weird. It makes me happy. I don't want to let this chance slip away just because I'm afraid or because the timing is difficult. Looking at you makes my heart race in a way I can't ignore."
Raiven seemed to stop breathing. The air in the room stood still.
"I won't say I love you yet," Haru continued, his voice steady despite the adrenaline. "But I want to try this. Truly try. I know you said you've only had one serious relationship before... I don't know how it ended, or if that's why you wanted to wait six months... but I just... I like you, Jae-wook."
Using Raiven's real name felt like a shift in reality. It stripped away the vanity of the world and it was just Haru and Jae-wook.
Raiven remained frozen for what felt like an eternity. He had received countless confessions in his life - polished, desperate, or star-struck - but none had ever sounded or made him feel like this. Looking at Haru, he saw a man who had flown across a continent just to hand-deliver a strawberry cake and a piece of his heart. Even with his hair ruffled and the exhaustion of travel in his eyes, Haru took his breath away.
Without a word, Raiven moved. He didn't just reach for Haru; he surged forward, his momentum pressing Haru back until they tumbled onto the plush carpet of the suite. Raiven straddled him, hovering over Haru with a look of intense, silent want. The position was a haunting echo of the day on the couch when he had brushed it off as mere teasing.
Under the soft, golden lights, Haru looked up at the man above him. He felt overwhelmed by the sheer beauty that was Raiven—the raw, unfiltered desire and the flicker of something that looked very much like hope. Their eyes locked, communicating a thousand things that words would only clutter.
Haru reached up, his hands finding the back of Raiven's neck and pulling him down. When their lips met this time, it was a collision. Haru nipped at Raiven's lower lip, a bold, possessive move that elicited a low, guttural moan from deep in Raiven's throat.
Raiven's head tilted, deepening the kiss until it became something desperate and hungry.
Haru found himself drowning in the heat of a fire he had started himself.