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His hands place on Moo-myung’ shoulders as he pushes him back, stumbling, until his back finds a wall again. Here he finds enough momentum to kiss him again, quick small kisses on his closed lips, on his face, on his exposed neck.
- Here. - Jinheung murmurs. The authoritarian tone in his voice makes Moo-myung tremble unintentionally; he raises his eyelids and stares at him. Jinheung stops, feeling his eyes on himself. - Whatever happens, I want it to happen here. - He tells him, voice slightly weaker. His gaze is feverous. - I want to remember it every time I sit on that throne. -
