Kang's place was simpler than I imagined. None of the flashy stuff I'd seen from his father. It was a real place. Worn-out couch, dim lights, smell of coffee.
It was cozy. Warm. Like him.
— Take that suit off, Johan — he said, tossing his jacket onto the back of a chair.
It wasn't my first time there. But this time felt different.
— Boyfriend? — I teased, unable to hide my smile.
He laughed, eyes on me.
— Sorry, I know we hadn't talked about it yet...
— I like it — I cut him off. — I like the idea of being your boyfriend.
Silence.
I felt my cheeks burning. With him, I felt really young.
He was playing with a glass of water he wasn't even going to drink, and I was staring at a bookshelf full of books I'd never read.
The tension wasn't uncomfortable. It was electric. Like the air was holding its breath with us.
— You think we're rushing this? — I asked, not looking away.
— No. — He stepped closer, studying me with that look I already knew. — I think we're just tired of waiting.
When he touched me, it was gentle.
His hand on my nape, thumb moving slowly at the base of my hair.
Simple touch, but my whole body responded.
The kiss came right after.
Full of pauses. A kiss that breathed with us. That didn't apologize.
It wasn't just his mouth. It was the way — always his way — between one kiss and the next, like he was saying: "I'm here, I see you."
When we pulled back, we just stayed there. Breathing.
My eyes still shut, trying to lock that moment inside my chest.
— Do you want this? — he asked, that low, husky voice cutting through every layer of defense I'd spent years building.
I nodded. Slowly. But I nodded.
He kissed me again. No rush. No trying to own me. Just... present. And that undid me in ways I didn't expect. Because it wasn't just desire. It was warmth. It was safety. It was something I hadn't felt since I stopped trusting people.
By the time I noticed, his shirt was already off. And I was trembling. Not from the cold. From memory, the fear of being touched... and then left, just because I'm a complicated person.
— If you want to stop, say so. I will — he whispered, brushing his nose against my neck.
— Shut up — I replied, though my voice cracked.
We stumbled to the bedroom in a rush. Clothes falling off along the way, but nothing was rough. Kang was gentle.
When he laid me on the bed, the world outside ceased to exist.
— Are you sure? — he asked, eyes locked on mine.
I touched his face. Nodded.
— I am. I... want you.
Even then, lying there with my legs around his waist, breathless, I still waited... for something. A condition. A cost. An "now you owe me."
But that didn't come.
What came was warm touch. Kisses on the places where I hid my insecurities. I felt like I was his, in a way my body wanted more of before my mind could even catch up.
His breath was heavy against my neck, warm. Steady.
But he was nervous too. I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me like he was waiting for permission. He was scared too, scared to do it wrong, to scare me, to break what we'd barely started building.
And me? I was shaking inside, like it was my first time.
And Kang, even with his body pressed against mine like he wanted to melt into me, still hesitated. His eyes asked. His hands trembled just a little.
I pulled him back. No hesitation. No pretending I didn't want it.
— Touch me more — I whispered. Quiet, but louder than anything before.
I wanted this to work.
His mouth found mine again, and this time it was different. There was hunger.
Not for my body.
For me.
His hips moved against mine. My back arched. My chest rose and fell like I'd just run a marathon. But it was just him. Just him, there.
When he entered me, it was slow. Like he wanted every second to last forever. His hand laced with mine. My chest clenched. Burned. Not from pain.
From truth.
I held on to him like I was afraid he'd vanish.
It felt like unlocking a door that had stayed shut for years. And behind it, everything I'd buried: fear, trauma, longing, desire. And a desperate need to be loved.
My fingers dug into his shoulders like they were the last thing keeping me anchored.
— Is this okay? — he asked, voice rough, gentle, still scared.
I nodded. Breathless. No room for lies.
He moved again, and a shiver ran up my spine.
— Johan... — he murmured against my neck, and the way my name left his lips...
It broke me.
My chest tightened, pleasure twisted into a knot, and before I even realized...
a tear fell.
He moved gently — light enough to lift something heavy off me.
— I'm scared — I whispered.
He stopped. Looked at me with a tenderness that drowned me.
My eyes were glassy, but the sight of him was so perfect...
— We can stop.
— No. — I swallowed hard. — It's a good kind of scared. The kind that... that matters. The one I didn't want to admit.
— Then just feel — he said, like he was drunk on me. — Let me show you how much I like you.
His hands moved across my body — firm, careful. I felt his warmth wrap around me entirely.
I let go.
Not because I lost control. But because, for the first time in a long time, being vulnerable felt safe.
His hands knew where to touch. Where to stop. Where to tease. It felt like he already knew my body before even exploring it.
I'd had sex before. But this... wasn't that.
From the beginning, it was all different.
He kissed me slowly, with calculated intensity. Like he was saying: "You're in charge."
And I was.
I told him to keep going. Told him to have me. Told him to stay.
I thought I'd lose myself. But no. I was there. Whole. More whole than ever. Every touch from him was an unspoken confession.
And I read every single one.
My chest tightened. But it wasn't a painful tightness, it was the weight of actually feeling something.
With every movement, I didn't just feel his body against mine. I felt him saying he wanted to stay.
When he leaned in and kissed me in the middle of everything, it wasn't lust. It was care. It was real.
And I wasn't ready for that.
Because it was in that damn kiss that everything overflowed.
— I... — my voice broke. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. — Fuck... I love you.
The words slipped out before pride could catch them, before I even realized.
And he stopped. Just for a second.
But not to pull away.
He looked at me. Heavy breathing, flushed face, deep eyes. He held my face with those big warm hands. Held me like it was everything, my desperation, my confession, my fear.
And for a second, I was afraid. But then he smiled. That dumb smile of someone who just heard what they always wanted to hear.
And kissed me again.
With more hunger. More certainty.
Answering without words. Like his heart jumped along with mine.
He moved again. Slowly. But now it was different. It was rawer. More intimate. More ours.
I moaned his name.
He moaned mine.
And for a moment, the world disappeared.
No trauma. No past. No pain.
There was only us.
I came soon after. Feeling everything. Body, soul, relief. With him there. Present. Steady. Mine.
He came right after. But didn't pull away.
He stayed.
Wrapped me in his arms, chest to chest. His face against my shoulder.
And then, almost a whisper:
— Me too — he said. — I love you, Johan.
(…)
Minutes later, lying there, everything seemed light for a moment. But Johan shifted slowly, like he wanted to leave without making a sound.
Kang, still a bit dizzy, opened one eye and pulled Johan back by the waist with a low laugh:
— You really think you're gonna run off after coming like that?
Johan huffed but stayed. Lying down. Staring at the ceiling.
— I just… usually get up. People usually leave.
— Yeah. But I'm not "people."
— I was just gonna get some water… — Johan murmured, barely audible.
— Stay.
Johan was silent.
— I'll get water, bring whatever you want. But stay, at least tonight.
Johan nodded. Kang handed him water.
Then, lying down again, Johan turned on his side but pressed his back against Kang's chest.
— It's good. — He said, almost confessing.
— And don't you dare get up again.
— Or what?
— If you get up again, I'll throw you on the pillow and show you it wasn't just lust. It was the start.
Johan turned his face, trying not to smile. But failed — the fear was still there. But lighter. Like, just for this night, Kang had carried the weight alone.
He looked at the younger man, observing him. His fingers touched the scar on Kang's abdomen. Shallow, but ugly. Old. Deep.
— This here... — he murmured.
— Car accident.
— I know. You stopped working.
Kang gave a weak laugh.
— I stopped everything. I was shattered, not just physically but mentally. Back then, I was trying to prove I was something.
— To inherit the company?
— Yeah. But when I was stuck in that hospital bed, nothing else made sense. That's when I started therapy.
— You went back to the company right after you recovered?
— No. I was out for over a year. That's when I remembered… — Kang's eyes dropped to Johan. — It's a bit ridiculous. But I remembered you were the only person I really wanted to impress.
Johan stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then he laughed.
— Kang. — He said, leaning over the younger. — You didn't just impress me, you're making me yours in ways I didn't want to admit.
— That makes me fulfilled. Honestly, I was pissed when you ignored my emails at first.
— Oh… there were many? All from you?
— I wrote them personally. And now I kiss you, I have you, and I'm completely yours. I'm very lucky.
— Kang… You're not my doormat. You're my everything. Got it?
Kang looked at Johan like he'd just crossed a minefield... and survived.
— If I'd known you were like this... — Kang murmured, half-smiling — ...I'd have done more therapy.
Johan laughed. For real.
It was a strange sound. Free.
— How do you feel?
— It was... good. — He said, unable to find better words.
Kang raised an eyebrow.
— Good? That's your grade? I don't believe I'll have to do it again just to raise my average.
Johan rolled his eyes but smiled.
— It was… a "so good I want it again." — He finally said.
— My God… — Kang laughed, covering his face. — Aren't you ashamed, Mister Johan?
— Just Johan, keep calling me your Johan.
Kang smiled and then hugged him. Tight.
— You won't regret it.