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So Mun was stroking his hand. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, and it certainly wasn’t the first time it had stirred a reaction from Mo-tak. It was, however, the first time it had happened when they were alone. Dammit, why did they have to be alone? How was Mo-tak meant to ignore how the light touch made him throb all over without Ms. Chu to kill the vibe?
“So Mun-ah,” he said tightly, eyes fixed on his hand where Mun’s thumb caressed gentle circles. “What are you doing?”
“Hmm?” Mun looked up, an adorable crinkle between his eyes as he tried to figure out what he was being asked. Was it really possible he didn’t realise he was even doing it? How could he drive Mo-tak wild without any sense of awareness—that was hardly fair, was it?
“You’re—” Mo-tak cleared his throat, eyes everywhere but Mun, “—holding my hand.”
“Am I?” Mun looked down, the corners of his lips twitching as he realised he was, indeed, holding his hand. “I didn’t even notice,” he said lightly. He didn’t let go, though his thumb stopped moving. Mo-tak hated himself for missing the gentle brush of spine-tingling contact. It wasn’t right, these feelings he’d been experiencing. He had to push them aside, had to—
Mo-tak gasped as Mun’s thumb brushed feather light across his knuckles. The little bastard was watching him carefully, still grinning. Had an evil spirit possessed him? Why else would he thrive from tormenting Mo-tak so?
He tried to pull away, but Mun was faster, grabbing his wrist, holding Mo-tak’s hand in place. “Does this bother you?”
Mo-tak swallowed noisily, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No,” he lied.
“Then you won’t mind—” Mun’s hand shifted, ghosting over Mo-tak’s, trailing lightly across the length of his fingers before threading his own between them.
“What is this?” Mo-tak asked, wide eyes shifting from their entwined fingers to Mun’s face. Why did that cocky grin have to look so good? Why did it have to make his heart stutter?
“What would you like it to be?”
Fuck. That little punk was playing games. Mo-tak wanted to believe he could give as good as he got, but his brain was short-wiring right now. He could barely think of anything past Mun’s warm fingers against his own.
“You’re a kid,” he grunted.
“And you’re an idiot.” At Mo-tak’s indignant splutters, Mun laughed. “I’m sorry, I thought we were stating facts. Yours was wrong, by the way—hence the idiot. I’m not a kid. I’m in my twenties.”
“You’re half my age!” He still couldn’t find the will to rip his hand free, though. He liked the feel of it there, twined with Mun’s smooth fingers.
“Only physically.” Mun flashed a devilish smile and continued, “Mentally, I think I might be more mature.”
Mo-tak growled, finally freeing himself. He cradled his hand against his chest indignantly and hated himself immensely for the instant longing to return it to Mun.
“Mo-tak-ahjussi, I don’t know why you’re fighting this. We’re both consenting adults. We both want to explore this, right?”
“Explore what, exactly?”
Mun twisted in his chair, turning so that his knees faced him. Shamelessly, Mun nudged his legs between Mo-tak’s and reached out, claiming both his hands and squeezing them gently. Mo-tak’s heart thrummed in his chest, but he stubbornly stuck his bottom lip out. He wasn’t affected. No little brat could make a strong, manly man such as himself swoon, thank you very much.
Mun locked eyes with him, and Mo-tak felt sweat on his forehead. Goddammit.
“After everything that happened with Mr Ma, it made me realise I shouldn’t hold back anymore. Life is short and precious, and we shouldn’t deny ourselves the things we want.”
Mo-tak’s mouth was like a goddamn desert. Mun was right, though. Mo-tak still regretted not spending every second he could with Kim Jeong-yeong. Did he really want to regret this, too? The kid was a brat, but Mo-tak kind of liked that. He kind of liked everything about So Mun: his strength, not just physically but also mentally; his kindness; oh hell, his smile, too—all of them, even the cocksure one he flashed now. In fact, Mo-tak thought he might like that one best of all.
“Just to clarify, you want me, right?”
“Yes,” Mun said, eyes twinkling.
“You little brat,” Mo-tak growled, launching forward to capture Mun’s mouth with his own. Fuck fighting it—Mun was right. Their lives were short and dangerous, and Mo-tak wasn’t going to take Mun’s teasing sitting down. Mo-tak was a goddamn warrior, and he would give as good as he received in all battles, including love.
He brushed his tongue lightly against Mun’s bottom lip, pulling away with immense satisfaction as Mun tried to follow him, eyes closed and face flushed. “You want to do that again, you’ll have to earn it, you little punk. Come on, let’s fight. I need to blow off some steam.”
Mun opened his eyes, and, oh boy, there was that cocksure smirk again. Mo-tak was in for it now. “Oh, it’s on.”
He just knew Mun wasn’t going to fight fair. But that was fine; Mo-tak had been around the block. He definitely had some tricks of his own. Mun was too arrogant, and it would be his downfall. Or, so Mo-tak liked to believe.
It was far more likely that So Mun would be his downfall.
Mo-tak would go down willingly.