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The first thing Han Yoojin thinks is that maybe he hasn't heard right.
"Excuse me, partner-ssi," he says a little stiffly. "What did you say?"
He feels warmth on his face, burning beneath his skin, but he tells himself that it's whatever damn substance he'd inhaled. Or maybe it's just the warm sun beating down on them within the dungeon. It certainly isn't because of whatever it is he thought Sung Hyunjae had just said. Damn it, his poison resistance is supposed to take care of things like this. How the hell does this not count as a toxin? And how the hell does it only affect E-Ranks and lower?
He deserves a refund!
Sung Hyunjae's eyes glint, amused, and Han Yoojin waits for it. He knew it—it had been a joke, or at kindest a misunderstanding. Hunters like Sung Hyunjae don't offer to sleep with people like Han Yoojin, even in special circumstances like this. Sung Hyunjae can have anyone he wants at the mere snap of his fingers. No, wait, that isn't even it—he doesn't even have to snap his fingers. They're just there.
He doesn't need to waste his time with an F-Rank like Han Yoojin, partners or no.
Not that Yoojin would ever want him to.
"I offered to help my dear Yoojin-gun dispel the substance," Sung Hyunjae answers dutifully, like he hasn't just begun spouting nonsense. Well, he's always spouting nonsense—this is just more nonsensical than usual.
"That won't be necessary," Han Yoojin says, his voice still stiff and far too polite. It's overcompensation, perhaps, for the way his entire body seems to be going into overdrive just from the thought of Sung Hyunjae's hands on him.
No, wait; that's just the damn poison this dungeon's sprung on him. It definitely isn't normal for the mere existence of those hands to make his heart pound and his dick so hard it hurts.
"That isn't the impression I was under," Sung Hyunjae says mildly.
"We haven't been here long," Han Yoojin says. "I can still leave the dungeon and return…later."
Later, when he's fulfilled the requirements of the substance, so helpfully spelled out for him by the window that popped up when they walked through that small grove of flowers a few minutes ago. It's just Han Yoojin's luck that, even if Sung Hyunjae isn't affected because of his rank, that damn window had popped up for him too.
There's a dangerous glint in Sung Hyunjae's eyes, and Han Yoojin curses the way it seems to make his blood race.
"I see," Sung Hyunjae says. "I simply thought it would be more efficient if I were to help. According to the description window, it will only grow more difficult to resolve the longer you leave it."
Oh. Han Yoojin's world begins to reorient itself right-side up. It makes far more sense if Sung Hyunjae is simply concerned about the practicalities. They'd come here on business, after all, intending to scope out some of the more interesting byproducts of this dungeon, and the description window had been obnoxiously direct:
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Only repeated orgasm would help dispel the effects of the substance.
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The effects would grow more and more debilitating, and thus take longer and longer to relieve, with each passing hour.
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Intercourse with a partner would cut the required time to deal with it in half.
Given all of that, Han Yoojin can admit that perhaps it makes sense to Sung Hyunjae to make such an offer—out of pity and convenience, if nothing else.
His world spins right back off its axis when Sung Hyunjae speaks again—though that might also be the fact that he's growing harder with every passing second. Fuck—he's starting to feel a little dizzy with it. It's only been a few minutes; how is it this bad already?
"I suspect it would also be far more enjoyable—for the both of us."
Han Yoojin gawks at him for several excruciating seconds. "How would that even work?" he finally splutters.
Sung Hyunjae looks amused, again. Han Yoojin's not sure that's any better. It doesn't seem to matter how Sung Hyunjae looks at him—it makes his his heart do weird things in his chest.
"I wasn't aware that sexual education had deteriorated so badly," Sung Hyunjae says.
Han Yoojin flushes. "Don't play stupid," he gripes. He knows exactly what he looks like, and—unfortunately, because he's standing right in front of him—he knows exactly what Sung Hyunjae looks like, too. "You can't expect me to believe I'm your type, Sung Hyunjae-ssi. You certainly have more enjoyable offers."
"Yours would be the only offer I would consider," Sung Hyunjae says easily, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
Han Yoojin turns in the direction of the gate. If he hurries, he can still make it out before it closes. "Since you won't stop talking nonsense, I'm leaving," he says shortly. If Sung Hyunjae's held him up so long that he ends up needing to use a gate stone, he's definitely sending the bill to Seseong Guild. Hell, he'll find a way to send a bill anyway—for pain and suffering, perhaps. Putting up with Sung Hyunjae definitely counts for both. "I don't need your pity, guild leader-nim."
He makes it all of half a step before Sung Hyunjae's voice stops him cold.
"You think it's pity I feel for you right now, Han Yoojin-gun?"
Han Yoojin hears slow footsteps behind him as Sung Hyunjae draws nearer. They stop for a moment, and then Sung Hyunjae is moving again, circling around to stand in front of him. He's so tall that Han Yoojin has to crane his neck back to look up at him.
"May I?" Sung Hyunjae asks, holding out one hand to him, and Han Yoojin, without understanding quite why he does it or really without thinking about it at all, reaches out to place his own within it.
Sung Hyunjae's hand is warm, large enough to wrap securely around his. Han Yoojin isn't sure what he's expecting, but it certainly isn't what happens. It certainly isn't Sung Hyunjae tugging him in a little closer and lifting their joined hands to tuck Han Yoojin's palm neatly against his chest, where the beat of his heart can be felt through his shirt.
"You see, Yoojin-gun?" Sung Hyunjae murmurs. His eyes are intent, and they're watching Han Yoojin's every move, like…like something important hangs on his response.
Like he's waiting to hear what Han Yoojin will say.
Han Yoojin swallows. The feel of Sung Hyunjae's heart beneath his palm pounds in his own ears. It's…fast. Faster than it should be normally, Han Yoojin thinks—not that he spends enough time thinking about or paying attention to Sung Hyunjae to know what normal is for the S-Class.
Sung Hyunjae's thumb rubs over the back of Han Yoojin's hand, tracing the bump of each knuckle. Unconsciously, Han Yoojin licks his lips.
"I don't want your pity, partner-ssi," he finally says again, stubbornly.
Sung Hyunjae watches him carefully, that intent look still in his eyes. "There are a great many things I feel for you, Yoojin-gun, but pity doesn't enter into any of them."
Sung Hyunjae's heart continues to thunder beneath his hand, each beat like an offer of…something. Han Yoojin knows he needs to make a choice—to leave, or to trust what Sung Hyunjae is saying.
He needs to make—
"I'll allow my partner-ssi to help me then," he finds himself saying, because he's not stupid enough to refuse what he knows Sung Hyunjae is really offering. "Since he's asked so nicely."
Sung Hyunjae chuckles, but he's pulling Han Yoojin in even as he does so. "My partner is so gracious," he murmurs. "I'll have to make sure he doesn't regret it."