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Summary
it started with a look. jake was watching sunghoon from across the room, shirt clinging to his chest, sleeves rolled up and tie hanging loose like sin wrapped in silk. he looked too good, too smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and jake hated how much it worked. hated how his stomach twisted when fans screamed for him. hated how badly he wanted to drag him somewhere private and ruin him.
but jealousy turned to heat, and heat turned into something darker, because when midnight came and sunghoon showed up at jake’s door, all that unspoken tension exploded into slow, bruising kisses, whispered filth, and desperate touches that blurred the lines between control and need. in a world where image was everything, their secret burned brightest behind closed doors.