Chapter 123
"Ugghh, Haru!"
Raiven's voice broke into a raw, breathless moan as his hands tightened around Haru's waist, the heavy grip pinning him in place. Haru's head fell back, his neck arching into a tense, beautiful line as a sharp gasp escaped his lips.
As his head tilted backward under the dim, amber glow of the penthouse bedroom, the sudden change in his silhouette was stark.
He had recently shaved his hair all the way down, a brutal, military buzz cut demanded by the uncompromising new role he had just accepted. The rough, short bristle of his hair gave him a fiercely striking, sharp appearance, completely stripping away the soft, idol-adjacent look he had carried before. It emphasized the hollows of his high cheekbones and the lethal intensity of his eyes, making him look less like the gentle Haru the public adored and more like the seasoned, dangerous man who had once ruled a different life.
It was almost impossible to believe that they were already past their one-year anniversary. The milestone had come and gone, but Haru had missed the exact calendar date. He had been thousands of miles away, completely immersed in the humid atmosphere of Vietnam, shooting the principal photography for his heavy new movie role. He had only just returned to Seoul, his body leaner, harder, and carrying an unspoken, restless exhaustion.
The world outside their locked bedroom door had kept spinning at a frantic pace. It had been months since the monumental release of Raiven's solo album, and the public reception had transcended even their highest expectations. The project had taken the industry by storm, ruthlessly topping multiple domestic and international charts, solidifying Raiven not just as a member of a popular group, but as an elite individual force. Yet, the industry allowed no rest; even now, with the echoes of his solo success still fresh, Raiven was already spending grueling nights in the recording studio, preparing for Re-Draft's highly anticipated full-group comeback.
Haru's own schedule had turned into a relentless machine, far busier than he had ever anticipated. His previously wrapped crime drama had finally aired, causing a massive, widespread stir across the entertainment industry. The public and critics alike were in absolute shock over his acting prowess and psychological depth, showering him with glowing praise.
The industry was finally realizing that Haru was not a fluke or a lucky face he was an unshakeable force to be reckoned with.
It had been nearly two years since he woke up in this new body. Two years of navigating a world that wasn't his, building a life on the foundation of someone else's name, while his soul remained tied to the ghost of Sunghoon.
As if trying to outrun those very thoughts, Haru leaned down, his palms flat against Raiven's broad chest. He lifted his hips, sliding up the length of Raiven's hard member before riding back down with a sudden, desperate hunger. He moved with a feverish intensity, thrusting down onto him repeatedly, his body seeking friction and heat like a man starving.
The revenue for FEI Entertainment had skyrocketed because of him. Between his acclaimed drama and a string of highly lucrative high-end commercial shoots, the small agency had grown. They had recently migrated from their cramped, modest office into a massive, sleek new office space in a premium district, hiring a fleet of new staff to handle the influx of work. Mae-rin was more than happy she was radiant, finally seeing the fruits of her immense faith in him. In turn, Haru felt a profound, quiet duty to help her and her family in any way he possibly could.
The personal lines had blurred beautifully, too. Mae-rin and Min-hyuk had become close, their children hanging out almost every single day, creating a tight-knit, lively domestic bubble that brought a soft, genuine warmth to Mae-rin's life. Even Alice, had finally been granted an assistant, a move she had loudly and dramatically celebrated, claiming that Haru's exploding demands and endless schedules were starting to make her chronically tired and restless.
Everything in Haru's new life was thriving. Everything was perfect.
Which was exactly why the phantom ache inside his chest felt so much like a betrayal.
He had met his mother yesterday. Or rather... Sunghoon's mother.
Perhaps that was the true source of the frantic, suffocating stress coiling tightly in his gut the reason he was taking his emotional overload out on Raiven tonight, using their bodies to burn away a pain he couldn't put into words. He didn't know any other way to cope. He refused to turn back to cigarettes; that was a toxic crutch he had been fighting bitterly to ween himself off of. It was a promise he kept to his past self, especially after the memory of his mother's voice had echoed in his mind, recalling how she used to constantly chastise him when he was still Sunghoon, telling him with tearful eyes that the smoke would ruin his health.
Yesterday, that same woman had looked at him, completely unaware that the soul of her deceased son was trapped behind the eyes of the tall, striking young actor standing before her.
She had been so happy. She had smiled, her face lined with age and a newfound peace, greeting him with a warmth that felt like a physical blow to Haru's chest. Mae-rin had invited Haru over to their family home, explaining that her mother wanted to personally thank him for everything he had been doing for the company, and for giving Mae-rin a renewed sense of hope and security after so many years of struggle.
It had been a beautifully warm, intimate family dinner. And it had made Haru feel like he had bitter, burning bile rising in his throat.
Sitting at that table, he had tasted the distinct, home-cooked flavors of recipes he had long since forgotten. For a terrifying, fleeting second, the room had faded, and he had seen himself thrown back into the past, sitting at a humble table in 1997, eating happily with his family before everything fell apart. The weight of the dramatic irony, the sheer agony of being a ghost at his own mother's table, had nearly broken him.
He had left that dinner completely unmoored. He had gone straight to Raiven's penthouse that night, drunk, stumbling through the door before breaking down completely. He had cried bitterly in his boyfriend's arms, weeping until his throat was raw, mourning a life he could never reclaim, until physical exhaustion finally dragged him into an uneasy sleep.
And now, hours later, here he was. Hungrily, desperately seeking another release, using the blinding, intoxicating friction of their skin to drown out the haunting memories of his past life.
"Jae-wook...!" Haru moaned aloud, using Raiven's real name, his voice a broken, needy whisper as he thrust down hard once more. His body shuddered violently as Raiven's cock sank deep into his core, hitting a spot that made his vision go entirely white.
Haru bent forward, burying his face in the crook of Raiven's neck, biting down gently on his shoulder before kissing him with a frantic, bruising desperation. He poured all of his unsaid grief, his love, and his madness into the press of their lips. Raiven responded instantly, his large hands sliding down to Haru's buttocks, gripping the firm flesh with a possessive, grounding strength that anchored Haru to the present.
With a low, dominant growl, Raiven suddenly shifted his weight. In one smooth, powerful motion, he flipped them over, pinning Haru beneath him against the dark sheets. Raiven hoisted one of Haru's long legs up, draping it securely over his own broad shoulder, altering the angle to open him up completely. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove himself back inside, thrusting deep and hard.
Haru let out a choked, breathless sound, his fingers clawing into the silk sheets beneath him. His mouth hung agape, his chest heaving as he closed his eyes and completely surrendered. He let Raiven take absolute control, letting the rhythmic, intense heat of his partner's body burn away the ghosts of the past, until there was nothing left in the universe but the two of them in the dark.
*
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The frantic, desperate edge of their libido smoothed out into the slow, rhythmic sound of their breathing filling the luxurious, dimly lit bedroom.
Raiven remained partially over him, his large frame acting as a warm, protective shield against the cool air of the room. He reached up, his thumb gently brushing a stray bead of sweat away from Haru's temple, his eyes dark with an intense, scanning concern.
"Are you okay?" Raiven asked softly, his deep baritone dripping with an unvarnished, protective tenderness. He knew Haru better than anyone. He had felt the underlying frantic edge in the way Haru had sought him, had recognized the silent plea for distraction hidden beneath every desperate kiss.
"Yeah..." Haru breathed out, the word a faint, exhausted vibration against the quiet space. He shifted slightly, resting his cheek against Raiven's solid chest, listening to the steady, rapid thumping of his boyfriend's heart. It reminded him that he was alive, that he was here, and that he was safe.
Haru tilted his head up slightly, offering a soft, lingering peck to Raiven's damp cheek, a silent thank-you for understanding the things he couldn't bring himself to say.
But as they lay there, the friction of their bare skin and the residual pheromones hanging heavy in the air began to work their magic. Haru felt a familiar, intoxicating heat beginning to simmer in the lower half of his stomach once again. He shifted his weight, pressing his forehead directly against Raiven's, their breaths mingling in the short distance between them.
"You want to go again?" Raiven murmured, his lips brushing against Haru's nose. He didn't even need to wait for a verbal answer; beneath the sheets, he could already feel his own member stirring, growing thick and hard inside Haru's tight, welcoming warmth, responding instantly to the subtle, needy tilt of Haru's hips.
Haru simply nodded his head against Raiven's brow, his eyes half-lidded, dark with a renewed, heavy desire. He didn't want the night to end. He didn't want to think about tomorrow.
A low, affectionate chuckle rumbled in Raiven's chest, though his eyes flared with a sudden, dark promise.
"Don't blame me later if your body is completely sore tomorrow," Raiven warned, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a playful yet possessive edge.
Before Haru could even offer a witty retort, Raiven leaned down and took his lips in a deep, bruising kiss, effectively sealing away any lingering ghosts of the past.