Chapter 87
The VIP booth was a glass-walled sanctuary . Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive gin, fried salt-and-pepper squid. The earlier tension of the stadium had dissolved into a blurred, neon-tinted haze. Here, within the soundproof confines of their private world they could be free.
Raiven sat with a relaxed, languid posture he rarely assumed in public, his hand openly laced with Haru's. There was no longer a need for the tactical distance there was only the grounding heat of skin against skin. He watched the group with a quiet, observant smile, finding a strange, novel peace in sobriety. In his past, the end of a tour meant drowning the adrenaline in a sea of champagne until the world stopped spinning. But tonight, with Haru's thumb tracing small, absent-minded circles over his knuckles, the frantic urgency to escape his own head had vanished. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
Hae-rin, however, was on a different trajectory. The "Gothic Queen" of the Seoul tattoo scene had finally reached her breaking point. After her fourth glass of a dark, bitter cocktail, the walls she had built around her heartbreak finally crumbled. She clutched a glass in one hand, while the other gestured wildly toward the ceiling as she lamented the ruins of her relationship.
"It's the curse!" Hae-rin wailed, her boots abandoned as she sprawled unceremoniously on the plush velvet floor of the booth. Her kohl-rimmed eyes were smudged into dark, tragic halos. She looked up at Raiven, pointing a trembling finger. "You… you cursed me, Jae-wook
Se-hee, whose empathy was as loud and chaotic as her personality, lunged off her seat to join Hae-rin on the floor. She pulled Hae-rin into a fierce, clumsy suffocating hug.She tapped Hae-rin's head with maternal aggression. "The world is trash, Rin-Rin!" Se-hee shouted over the muffled bass of the club. "We'll find you a girl who treats you like the masterpiece you are. I'll fight her myself if she doesn't!"
Haru, usually the bastion of restraint, had also allowed himself to drift into the currents of the liquor. His face was flushed a soft, vibrant pink, and his movements had lost their sharp, practiced precision. He leaned over the edge of the booth, looking down at the two women on the floor with a dazed, affectionate grin.
"you'll find you someone," Haru slurred, his voice dropping into a melodic, drunken baritone.
The atmosphere was a "chill," relaxing release - a collective exhale after the marathon that was their lives.They spent the next hour dancing in the small space of the booth, screaming lyrics to songs they barely knew, and laughing until their lungs burned. Through it all, Raiven watched them with a quiet, permanent smile.
The transition back to the hotel was a blur of cool night air and the rhythmic clicking of a taxi meter. Raiven had expertly navigated the chaos, depositing a still-sobbing Hae-rin and a fiercely protective Se-hee into a cab. Despite his exhaustion, a maniac deal was struck: the women insisted on a "night swim" in the heated infinity pool to wash away the gloom.
"Go," Haru had whispered, leaning heavily against Raiven's shoulder as they stood in the hushed elegance of the hotel lobby. "I'll go up. I need... to rest."
Raiven didn't argue. Haru was a heavy, warm weight against Raiven's side. Occasionally, his fingers would clutch Raiven's shoulder with a sudden, desperate tightness, as if he were afraid the world might tilt on its axis, before letting go with a soft, embarrassed mumble. His face was a deep, beautiful pink.
Once inside the room, Raiven carefully lowered Haru onto the edge of the sprawling bed. He didn't immediately join him; instead, he moved to his suitcase, rummaging through a side pocket until he produced a small vial of hangover medicine. He sat Haru down on the edge of the bed and pressed the cool glass to his lips.
"Here," Raiven murmured, sitting beside him. "Drink this."
Haru blinked, his eyes dazed and filled with tiny, imaginary stars as he tracked Raiven's movements. He let out a small, pathetic whimper and bit his lip, his brow furrowing. To Raiven, he looked like a man in pain, perhaps the first stirrings of a brutal hangover. He drank the bitter liquid, smacking his tongue in distaste, but his gaze never wavered.
"You are such a good boyfriend," Haru slurred, a triumphant, sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"A good boyfriend? Is that so? Then how are you going to repay me for my exemplary service?" Raiven asked, standing between Haru's knees. He meant it as a tease, a lighthearted end to a long night ,but the energy in the room shifted instantly.
Haru reached out, his hands trembling slightly as he grabbed Raiven's waist. He pulled him toward him, burying his face against the lower half of Raiven's stomach. He breathed in deep, filling his lungs with the scent of cedarwood.
"Why don't I give you your present now?" Haru whispered against his skin.
Raiven looked down, his eyes dark and glazed with a sudden, sharp hunger. He could feel the heat radiating from Haru's face through the fabric of his shirt. "You're drunk, Haru," Raiven said, his voice a low warning. He was giving him an out " We can wait until you're clear-headed."
""Not that drunk," Haru pouted, his grip tightening as he pulled Raiven even closer, forcing the idol to lean over him. He let out a labored, shaky breath. "What? Are you worried?"He looked up, his expression a lethal combination of innocence and predatory intent.
Haru let out a labored breath, his hands tightening around Raiven's waist. "You were so adamant about finding out what your present was. What are you... chicken now?"
The challenge was the final straw. Raiven let out a jagged, breathless laugh. "I'm not chicken."
Without another word, Raiven let himself be pulled down onto the bed. He lay back obediently, his heart hammering against his ribs. He watched, mesmerized, as Haru moved with a focused, clumsy grace. He peeled off Raiven's jacket, then his shirt, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against Raiven's skin. Then came the pants. Soon, Haru was straddling him, hovering over his chest, his arms braced on either side of Raiven's head.
Haru leaned down, holding himself up on either side of Raiven's head. His chest was heaving, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches.
"Are you okay?" Raiven asked, reaching up to cup Haru's flushed face. His thumb traced the line of Haru's jaw, searching for any sign of regret he looked like he was struggling.
Haru couldn't form the words. He bit his lip and nodded, his eyes locked on Raiven's. He had drunk purposefully tonight. He knew that he was far too reserved, far too terrified of looking pathetic to ever initiate something this bold. He needed the liquor to drown out the voice of his own embarrassment. If it backfired, he could blame the wine. If it worked... it would be something interesting.
Haru tugged at his own shirt, and Raiven quickly caught the rhythm, helping him pull it over his head. Soon, they were both reduced to the barest layers of silk and cotton. Haru let out a small huff, a moment of doubt flickering in his eyes as he stared down at the man beneath him. Raiven looked like he was curved by the greeks, his blue hair splayed across the white pillows, his eyes dark with a devotion that was terrifying.
He lowered himself, the friction of their bodies sending a jolt of electricity through the bed. Haru kissed Raiven's neck, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of his Adam's apple and nibbling with a seductive, biting pressure.
Raiven's breath hitched, a shattered sound escaping him as Haru's mouth nibbled his Adam's apple. "Haru..."
Haru didn't let him speak. He captured Raiven's lips in a deep, desperate kiss, his tongue seeking Raiven's in a dance of pure, unadulterated need. Mid-kiss, Haru reached down, grabbing Raiven's hand and directing it toward the small of his own back.
Haru shuddered against him, his strength momentarily failing as he collapsed against Raiven's chest. He reached down, his fingers fumbling with the waistband of his boxers, shedding the final barrier.
He allowed Raiven to discover the absolute length of the shamelessness he had reduced himself to.
Raiven's eyes went wide his fingers finally made contact, sliding into the heat of the man who was currently shaking above him. His pupils blown with a mixture of shock and agonizing hunger . He felt Haru trembling above him, a delicate, vibrating force of nature. He realized then that the "present" wasn't just an act; it was a confession. It was Haru saying I am yours.
"Fuck!" Raiven cursed.