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The chandelier light washed over the marble ballroom. The scent of expensive perfume hung thick in the air, while calculated laughter and shallow small talk fractured the elegant silence.
A charity gala was the perfect hunting ground for three types of people: high-caliber tycoons looking to flaunt their wealth to one another; the nouveau riche desperate to secure business partners; and the elite who only showed up to drink and judge the rest.
Hwang Hyunjin belonged to the third category.
He held his crystal glass with a delicate, practiced elegance, his long fingers—adorned with white gold rings—brushing the rim without ever actually taking a sip. Hyunjin never attended these events for charity or prestige; he was there because he found order fascinating, especially when he could find a way to corrupt it.
His bespoke black suit fit his frame with an almost obsessive precision, without a single wrinkle to betray that beneath the silk beat the heart of a man capable of burning it all down on a mere whim.
He moved through the crowd with the effortless grace of an unbothered predator. The picture-perfect tycoon, returning greetings with calculated nods, smiles that never reached his eyes, and cold stares that sent shivers down your spine. Everything about him was symmetrical, measured, flawless.
Until the air shifted.
That familiar prickle at the back of his neck sparked—the one that always warned him when his ruin was near. Hyunjin turned his head with a lethal gaze, almost on instinct, sweeping his dark eyes across the ballroom until, amidst the sea of evening gowns and boring tuxedos, he spotted him.
Han Jisung.
His hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d just escaped a fight—or someone’s bed—with blue streaks standing out against the monotonous crowd. He wore tailored dress pants paired with a silk shirt that accentuated his narrow waist, and a soft smudge of eyeliner that made his dark eyes look impossibly deep.
He held a glass, smiling at a middle-aged man who was eyeing him like a piece of meat. Jisung leaned in close to whisper in his ear, just enough to catch the attention of a few onlookers.
Hyunjin’s fingers tightened around his crystal glass until his knuckles turned white. In that split second, the flawless elegance he always projected twisted into something far darker.
Jisung felt the weight of that gaze—heavy, hard, dangerous. He turned his head just enough for their eyes to lock. The roar of the gala faded into background noise. Jisung didn’t look away; instead, he tilted his head and offered Hyunjin a slow, defying, almost psychotic smirk.
The game was on. And Hyunjin could already taste the adrenaline of the hunt.
He watched as Jisung let the man’s fingers brush his waist—a careless caress that Jisung received with a low giggle Hyunjin could feel vibrating right down his own spine. It was a direct provocation.
Hyunjin didn’t shatter the glass in his hand, though the crystal strained under his grip. Instead, he set it down onto a passing waiter’s tray, a fluid motion that didn't alter a single millimeter of his perfect posture.
His eyes, however, locked onto the man as if he had already signed his death warrant for daring to touch what didn't belong to him.
"Excuse me," Hyunjin murmured to the business partners surrounding him, his voice like cold silk. "I believe I’ve spotted an old friend who requires my immediate attention."
He cut through the ballroom, ignoring the stares. People parted for him—not because he pushed them, but because the aura bleeding off him was enough to make the elite duck their heads. No one dared stand in his way.
Jisung watched him approach. Instead of running, he waited until Hyunjin was just a few feet away, close enough to feel the danger. Then, with the grace of a feline, he leaned into the man in front of him, whispering in his ear with a playful smile.
Hyunjin watched the vein in his neck throb just enough for Jisung to know he had pushed him to his absolute limit. With one last smirk, Jisung spun on his heel, vanishing into the heavy velvet curtains that led to the back gardens.
Hyunjin didn’t waste a glance on the man Jisung had just abandoned; the guy was insignificant, a disposable pawn in Han’s game. His eyes were fixed entirely on the trail of perfume and chaos Jisung always left in his wake.
Crossing the threshold onto the terrace, the crisp night air hit his face, though it did nothing to cool the blood boiling beneath his skin. The garden was a maze of high hedges and white marble statues that cast long, distorted shadows under the bright moon.
"I know you’re here, Hannie," Hyunjin called out, his voice cutting through the darkness with absolute authority. "You know I don't like digging through trash, so step out before I decide I’m done playing."
A soft, melodic laugh—laced with the very madness that drew him in so completely—floated from somewhere among the rosebushes.
"And miss the chance to watch you unravel, Jinnie?" Jisung’s voice sounded close, yet it was hard to pin down. "You look so... perfect when you’re on the verge of killing someone. I wonder if that suit will look just as good when it’s stained with something other than wine."
Hyunjin stopped dead in his tracks. He reached up to his neck, loosening his silk tie with a slow, almost lazy movement, but his eyes never stopped scanning the shadows. The sound of silk sliding against the cotton of his shirt was the only noise in that corner of the garden.
"Perfection is boring, Hannie," Hyunjin replied, his voice dropping into a raspy, threatening growl. "But obedience... obedience is something you still haven’t learned to appreciate."
He took a step to the right, veering off the main path. He knew Jisung was playing with angles, using the marble statues for cover—he knew his boyfriend’s little tricks all too well.
Hyunjin shed his suit jacket, letting it drop onto a stone bench without a glance. Now, down to his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the taut muscles of his forearms, he looked less like a tycoon and more like an executioner.
"Obedience?" Jisung’s laugh echoed again, this time from behind a marble angel statue just a few feet away. "What an ugly word for someone as pretty as you."
Suddenly, a shadow shifted. Jisung stepped out from behind a hedge, walking with that reckless nonchalance that drove Hyunjin insane. He stopped three paces away, flicking a gold lighter he’d likely stolen from the man at the gala, bringing a cigarette to his lips. The flame danced before his eyes, reflecting off the blue streaks that now looked like threads of electricity under the moonlight.
"I like it when you take off the mask," Jisung murmured, taking a step forward until they were practically chest-to-chest, smoke filling both their senses. "It makes you look... human. Or as close as you'll ever get to it."
Hyunjin didn’t wait. His hand shot out, catching Jisung by the scruff of his neck with a speed that cut through the air. It wasn't a tender grip; his fingers tangled into the messy hair, forcing Jisung’s head back and exposing the pale line of his throat. The cigarette fell to the ground, crushed beneath Hwang's boot.
"You were so close," Hyunjin growled, his face millimeters from Jisung’s. "You let his filthy hands rest where only mine are permitted. Is that what you want? Want me to lose my mind in front of all those idiots? Want me to tear his hands off?"
Jisung let out a sharp gasp, though whether it was from pain, pleasure, or a twisted mix of both, he couldn't tell. His hands flew to Hyunjin’s chest, his fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it ruthlessly.
"I want to see how far you’re willing to go for me, Jinnie," Jisung answered with a broken smile. "I want to see if you’re capable of burning this place to the ground just to claim what’s yours."
Hyunjin tightened his grip on his neck, feeling Jisung’s erratic pulse against his palm. A symphony of chaos that only he knew how to conduct. For a moment, time stopped between them; the world was nothing but the ghost of tobacco and the scent of roses, the heat of their skin friction, and the promise of the violence they both craved.
"Be careful what you wish for, Jisung," Hyunjin whispered, his thumb brushing Jisung’s jawline with a pressure that bordered on painful. "Because if I decide to burn this place down, you’ll be the first to burn."
Jisung let out a choked chuckle, a vibration Hyunjin felt in his own bones. With the practiced skill of someone who had done this a thousand times, Jisung slid his hands from Hyunjin’s chest up to his neck, digging his nails hard into his skin.
Hwang’s face contorted as Jisung threw himself backward, slipping from his grip, leaving Hyunjin with empty hands and a heart hammering against his ribs.
"Then run, Jinnie," Jisung taunted, taking two steps back through his laughter, melting into the garden shadows. "Because if you catch me, I’ll let you do whatever you want. But if you don't... maybe I’ll go back to the party and finish what I started with that man."
Before Hyunjin could react, Jisung spun around and bolted. It wasn't a clumsy or playful escape; it was a dead sprint through the maze of hedges. The crunch of his steps over the gravel was a direct challenge, an invitation to disaster.
Hyunjin stood still for a fraction of a second, his pupils dilating as rage and desire entirely clouded his judgment. There was no trace left of the perfect tycoon. He launched himself after him, ignoring the branches catching on his white shirt and the sweat starting to bead on his forehead.
The hunt spilled from the garden into the luxury hotel's private parking lot. The ground LED lights illuminated the high-end cars like trophies in a display case. Hyunjin heard the roar of an engine—the engine of one of his own cars, a navy blue sports car Jisung had brought.
Han was behind the wheel, the headlights blinding Hyunjin for a split second. Through the windshield, he could see Jisung's silhouette, his blue hair wild and that psychotic grin illuminated by the dashboard glare. Jisung revved the engine, making the sound echo off the concrete walls, and tore toward the exit, grazing past Hwang in a streak of smoke and burning rubber.
Hyunjin didn't hesitate. He ran to his own vehicle, an identical model in cold black. He threw himself inside, fired up the engine with a deafening roar, and peeled out after him.
Now, the city was their chessboard.
Hyunjin tracked the taillights of Jisung’s car like a lone beacon in a sea of darkness. He swerved past cars, the speedometer climbing without him even looking at the numbers, his mind entirely locked onto the silhouette fleeing ahead of him.
Every time Hyunjin managed to get close enough to clip his rear bumper, Jisung would jerk the wheel, laughing so hard Hyunjin swore he could hear it over the wind. They were escaping reality, creating their own personal hell at 220 kilometers per hour.
The digital speedometer flashed a furious red, blurring the urban landscape into streaks of light. Hyunjin didn't blink. The roar of the engine was the only thing filling the void of his mind, an extension of his own fury. He watched the blue sports car weave through the few cars daring to drive at this hour, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips.
"You want to play dirty, Hannie," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper lost in the cabin. "Let's play dirty."
Hyunjin slammed the gas pedal to the floor, feeling the jolt of adrenaline in his gut. Instead of trying to pass him in the open lane, he aimed the nose of his car straight at the rear corner of Jisung’s vehicle.
It was a PIT maneuver designed to spin out the axle, but at that speed, it was a ruthless attempt at a wreck.
The impact was sharp—a brutal crunch of metal on metal that sent sparks raining down onto the asphalt. Jisung’s car shuddered violently.
Through the other car's rearview mirror, Hyunjin saw Han fighting the steering wheel, his shoulders moving frantically as the tires shrieked for traction.
Far from panicked, Jisung thrust his hand out the window and flipped him off, letting out a laugh Hyunjin didn't need to see to recognize. Then, Han slammed on the brakes.
Hyunjin had to react instantly, jerking the wheel so hard he nearly flipped, scraping the side of his car against the guardrail as sparks flew like rain.
The sound of tearing metal was music to his ears. He didn't care about the half-million-dollar car; he only cared about the boy looking back at him through the rearview mirror, eyes bright with adrenaline.
They hit an elevated bridge hanging over the city's industrial wasteland. Hyunjin saw his chance. He accelerated until they were neck-and-neck, the two cars flying inches apart. For a brief second, the world froze. Hyunjin turned his head and looked at Jisung. His face was bathed in the blue glow of the dash, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his expression one of pure ecstasy.
Han looked his way, blowing him a kiss before violently jerking the wheel into him.
The side-impact shoved them both toward the edge of the bridge. Hyunjin didn't brake; instead, he steered hard into Jisung, pinning the blue sports car against the safety guardrail.
The screeching crunch was bone-chilling. Pieces began flying off Jisung's car, the side mirror shattering into a thousand shards as the guardrail groaned, buckling under the weight of tons of metal.
Hyunjin was breaking him. He was crushing the machine protecting Jisung, and with it, he was claiming his body.
Finally, in a suicidal maneuver, Hyunjin pulled ahead just enough to swing his car across Jisung's path, blocking both lanes. The brakes of both vehicles screamed, leaving long, black streaks of burnt rubber as white smoke choked the air. Jisung’s sports car clipped the side of Hyunjin’s one last time before grinding to a halt barely two meters away from plunging into the abyss.
The silence that followed was louder than the chaos before it. The only sound was the ticking of hot metal and engines straining not to burst into flames.
Hyunjin got out of the car. His white shirt was smeared with dust, his pristine hair was a total disaster, and his eyes... his eyes were pure fire. He walked toward Jisung’s car, the driver’s side door caved in and the windshield shattered.
Jisung was slumped against the seat, a trickle of blood running down his temple, his chest heaving violently. He didn't try to escape. He looked at Hyunjin through the cracked glass with an unsettling devotion, a smile curling his lips.
He had been on the brink of death. And he had never felt more alive.
Hyunjin walked up to the door, slamming his fist against the fractured glass until the remnants rained down like dirty diamonds into Jisung’s lap. He reached inside, ignoring the sharp edges cutting into his arm, and popped the lock from the inside.
The door groaned as it swung open. Hyunjin leaned in, invading the cramped space of the vehicle, crowding Jisung with his body.
"I have you," Hyunjin breathed.
His voice wasn't loud; it was a low, raspy sound loaded with an absolute possessiveness. His fingers locked onto the collar of Jisung’s silk shirt, pulling him forward until their foreheads crashed together.
"I told you I’d catch you, Hannie," he smirked, locking eyes with him. "Was the show worth it? Was it worth wrecking everything just to get my hands on you?"
Jisung let out a breathless laugh, the sound mixing with the blood staining his temple. His eyes shone with a manic lucidity, fixed entirely on Hyunjin’s blown-out pupils. There wasn't an ounce of regret in him—only a devastating satisfaction.
"Look at you, Jinnie... you're shaking," Jisung whispered, bringing his hands up to cup Hyunjin’s face with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence from before. "You know it was worth it. You love me most when you want to kill me. You love me because I’m the only one who dares to drag you to hell."
Hyunjin didn’t answer with words. His fingers slid from the jawline up into Jisung’s blue hair, pulling with a force that forced Han to arch his back.
He hauled him out of the car in one swift motion, forcing him to his feet on the hot asphalt. Jisung stumbled, his legs still weak from the impact and the adrenaline, but Hyunjin caught him, pinning him flush against his own body.
"You haven’t seen anything yet," Hyunjin hissed against his lips. "If you want hell, I’m giving you the whole damn thing."
Without letting go, Hyunjin dragged him away from the wrecked cars toward the shadow of a concrete structure at the edge of the bridge—a dark corner where the city lights couldn't reach and the distant traffic faded into a dull echo.
He wasn't looking for comfort or romantic privacy; he wanted a territory where he could claim every inch of Jisung’s skin without the world daring to interfere.
He shoved Jisung against the cold concrete wall with a roughness that knocked the air right out of the younger man's lungs. Hyunjin cornered him, using his own body as a cage, his hands pinning Jisung’s wrists flat above his head against the hard surface.
"Look at me, Jisung," Hyunjin commanded, his breathing tangling with Han's in a frantic rhythm. "Look at me and tell me who you belong to now that the game is over."
Jisung tilted his head, a blue streak falling over his dark eyes, and flashed that smile of pure provocation.
"Make it hurt so bad I can't forget your name, Jinnie. Break what's left of me," Jisung challenged, his voice cracking into a desperate plea. "Pretty please..."
Hyunjin stared at him for a fraction of a second before crashing his lips onto his. His mouth sought Han's with a desperate, heavy possessiveness that bled from his entire body. His hands ground into Jisung's, drawing muffled gasps.
He pressed his weight into Han, their erections rubbing painfully through the wrinkled fabric of their clothes, tongues clashing with the raw desire they’d been holding back all night.
Hyunjin released Han’s wrists, dropping his hands to Jisung’s waist, digging his fingers in almost bruisingly. Han’s hands flew to his neck, his fingers tangling into the black strands of Hyunjin's hair, pulling hard.
They broke the kiss only when they starved for oxygen, pulling apart by a mere fraction of an inch. Their eyes collided, scanning each other's faces, searching for that spark of madness they both shared. They smirked when they found it—bright, untouched.
Hyunjin’s hands shot up, grabbing the silk fabric of Jisung's shirt and ripping it open with force, the sound of tearing cloth lost beneath their ragged breathing.
"That was my favorite," Han murmured.
"I don't care," Hyunjin growled before shredding the rest of it, discarding the scraps to the ground with a dull thud.
Hyunjin stared at Han’s torso, leaning in close as his tongue met the ink-stained, tan skin. He licked the collarbone right where the younger man's tattoo sat, before tracking up the smear of blood running down his temple and sliding down his neck.
The metallic, salty taste of his skin flooded his senses, but he didn't pull away. Reaching the jawline, he bit down hard, tearing a groan from Jisung, making sure his teeth left a deep mark. He smirked.
Jisung refused to be left behind. His fingers slid down the back of Hyunjin's neck, tracing lower until they reached the waistband of his dress pants, fumbling expertly to unbutton them.
Hyunjin’s pants pooled at his feet with a soft thud. Han’s smirk widened as he felt the heavy hardness against his palm—hot and pulsing. Hyunjin mirrored the action, stripping off Jisung’s tailored pants, letting them drop beside his own.
Han slid his hand inside Hyunjin’s underwear, his open palm pressing against the erection. His fingers curled around Hyunjin’s length, freeing it from the fabric.
Hyunjin’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes locked onto Han’s as Jisung began to stroke him with a slow, deliberate motion, feeling the heat beneath his fingers.
"Get on your knees," Hyunjin ordered.
Han bit his lip. "No."
The older man gripped Han’s jaw ruthlessly, his fingers turning white. Jisung gasped, his eyes flashing wildly as a grin stretched across his face.
"I wasn't asking."
Hyunjin shoved Han’s face away roughly, his hand shifting to grip Jisung’s hair, pulling down and forcing him to his knees on the gravel. The small stones dug sharply into his skin.
"Open up and take it, Jisung." The command was blunt, rough, thick with built-up lust.
Jisung let out a low whine as Hyunjin’s grip tightened. He opened his mouth slowly, his hands wrapping around Hyunjin’s heavy, burning length. Without hesitation, he took the head all at once. The thickness hit the back of his throat, triggering his gag reflex. He tried to pull back, but Hyunjin held him fast, shoving deeper, choking him.
Jisung’s eyes rolled back, his hands migrating to Hyunjin’s thighs, nails digging deep into the pale skin as his breath cut short. His head spun, the sensations utterly overwhelming.
"Look at me, Han. I want you to see exactly who is breaking you," Hyunjin rasped before pulling out of his mouth. Jisung coughed, his voice wrecked, his vision blurring.
Han caught two desperate breaths before Hyunjin shoved back in, bottoming out in his throat until Jisung’s breath hitched completely. He fucked his mouth with a punishing slowness, breaking his mind until Han's perfect face was ruined with tears.
Hyunjin smirked before pulling out entirely. He wiped Jisung’s swollen lips, pressing down hard on the skin. He grabbed his arm forcefully, ensuring his finger marks would leave a lasting print, and hauled him up callously, pinning him back against the concrete wall.
He crashed his lips onto him again, his hands slipping inside Jisung's underwear, squeezing his hips firmly, bracing his body flush against Han's. Their lengths rubbed against each other through the thin barrier of Han's briefs.
Hyunjin bit Han’s bottom lip viciously, tasting the metallic tang of blood mixed with salt tears. His hands tore away the last piece of fabric separating them, completely indifferent to the sound of ripping cloth. The shredded fabric fell uselessly to the ground.
He grabbed Han and spun him around against the wall, one hand locking onto his nape, the other gripping his hip like absolute property. The contrast of Jisung’s burning skin against the freezing concrete made him arch his back.
"I’m going to fuck you right here."
Hyunjin’s raspy voice cut through the night air as he stared at his boyfriend's backside. He spread him open with his hands, pressing down firmly, making Jisung groan against the concrete.
There was no preparation, no time for gentleness. Two of Hyunjin’s fingers slid straight into Han’s tight heat. Jisung’s body tensed instinctively, his core muscles clamping down as he dug his nails into the wall.
"Please... destroy me," he begged between groans.
"Oh, I will."
Hyunjin pushed his fingers all the way in without warning. Jisung’s insides seized around him, a sharp cry escaping his lips as the burn rippled through him, the sudden stretch making him whine. Pleasure and pain tangled completely, forcing a sob against the wall. Hyunjin let out a low grunt at the internal resistance, but he didn't slow down.
Han arched his back when Hyunjin’s fingers hit his spot, his entire frame shuddering violently. Hyunjin’s movements were rough, thrusting hard, opening him up to take him. Once he deemed him ready enough, he pulled his fingers out callously.
"Are you ready?" Hwang whispered against his ear.
Jisung let out a broken laugh. "Make it hurt so bad I can't walk away from you."
And Hyunjin delivered. He buried himself inside Han with one hard, decisive thrust. He held still for a few seconds, savoring the way Han clamped down around him. Jisung cried out at the burning stretch—it hurt like hell, but it felt incredible.
His nails scraped the wall, his abdomen tightening against the invasion, but Hyunjin didn't retreat. The older man pulled out halfway, enjoying the frantic twitching of Jisung’s entrance before driving back in hard, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the night.
Hyunjin had no rhythm; he had a hunger. Every thrust was a brutal assault, a raw reminder that after the gala, after the madness, after nearly dying, the ending was always the same: Jisung unraveling beneath him. Begging for his cock, crying from pleasure.
Jisung’s cheek was pressed flat against the pillar, his breath hitching in broken moans and sharp cries, his blown-out eyes lost in the distant shadows.
The initial pain had melted into a shuddering electricity up his spine. Every time Hyunjin slammed into him, the world vanished. There was only him and the bruising grip of Hwang pinning his hips so fiercely he knew he'd have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.
"Look at me, Jisung..." Hyunjin growled, his voice guttural, teeth gritting as he felt him milking him relentlessly.
He yanked the blue hair back, forcing Han’s face around just enough to lock eyes. Jisung looked back. His pupils were completely dilated, his brain entirely fried with every brutal thrust the older man gave him.
He was sweaty, dirty, his lip split open, but he smiled—that psychotic smirk that told Hyunjin that no matter how hard he tried to break him, Jisung was already broken, and he loved every second of the process.
"You're... an animal..." Jisung managed to gasp out between moans, his voice shattering as Hyunjin shifted his angle, hitting the exact spot that made him see stars. "Jinnie... more..."
"Shut up," Hyunjin snapped, sealing his lips with a kiss that tasted of blood and desperation.
Hyunjin dialed up the pace, his body driving so hard into Jisung that the tan skin scraped painfully against the concrete, making him scream. His thrusts turned frantic, chaotic—a relentless collision of flesh on flesh.
The sound was obscene, raw, unyielding. Jisung began to shake, his legs threatening to give out over the gravel, but Hyunjin’s arms were an anchor keeping him pinned in place.
"Tell me who you belong to," Hyunjin growled into his ear, his breath searing the sensitive skin of Jisung’s neck. "Say it!"
"Yours... damn it... I'm yours," Jisung cried out, his voice cracking into a high whine as his orgasm began to rip up from the base of his spine like an explosion of pure adrenaline.
Hyunjin felt Jisung’s walls spasming around him, milking him with an agonizing tightness. The older man squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw until it throbbed, and with three final, brutal thrusts that rattled Jisung's frame against the wall, he came deep inside him with a guttural roar that vibrated through both their bodies.
An abrupt silence crashed back down, broken only by their ragged breathing puffing into white mist in the cold air. Hyunjin didn't move; he stayed right there, buried deep inside Jisung, resting his forehead against the nape of his neck. The heat radiating off them was the only thing keeping the night chill from freezing them through.
Jisung slumped forward, his arms finally giving out, hanging almost entirely from Hyunjin’s grip. He let out a weak, utterly exhausted laugh.
"You... you did it..." Jisung whispered, closing his eyes. "You broke me."
Hyunjin pulled out slowly, a shiver running through him at the bite of the night air. He stood staring at Jisung’s back—marred by his hands, scratches, and bruises. The half-million-dollar suit lay on the ground, reduced to rags. The cars were totaled just a few meters away. And they, in the dead center of the wreckage, were finally at peace.
Hyunjin leaned down, pulling his pants back up. He shed his shirt and draped it over Jisung’s shoulders before sitting flat on the asphalt and pulling him onto his lap.
"I told you the game was over, Hannie," he murmured, kissing his boyfriend’s blood-stained temple. "Now it's just us."
Weighing heavily against his chest, the track of his tears already dry on his cheeks, Jisung stared at the ruins of the blue sports car.
"We're going to need a new car tomorrow," Jisung said, a spark of mischief flashing back into his eyes.
Hyunjin let out a dry laugh—his first of the night.
"Tomorrow, Jisung. Tomorrow we deal with the world. Tonight... hell belongs entirely to us."