Work Text:
The staff member held up the phone to show the short film content they'd just filmed. "Is this alright?"
James leaned in, eagle eyes scanning the video playback carefully. He gave a satisfied nod. "Yeah, it's good. We can use that one." He stayed right there with the crew, talking through different ideas and content they could try filming later in the day.
A few meters away, another camera was rolling for the CORTIS’s Paris vlog. Martin stood stiffly under the weight of Diamant Blazi’s arm draped over his shoulders. The basketball player towered over him, easy confidence practically radiating off him, while Martin tried his best to look calm for the lens.
Diamant glanced down at him. "You the tallest in your group?"
Martin swallowed, his heart beating a little too fast. "Yeah," he answered. He let out a nervous laugh that came out higher than he wanted it to.
"How tall are you?" Diamant asked, his voice dropping into a warm, curious tone.
"I’m 193 centimeters. And you?" Martin forced another laugh right after the words left his mouth.
He could feel a sudden heat crawling up his neck. He hated how intensely aware he was of Diamant’s arm, the solid weight of it resting across his shoulders, the way the contact made his skin tingle and his stomach warm up.
Diamant stared down at him for a second. His eyes were attentive, almost like he was studying every detail of Martin's expression. Then he smiled. "I’m 203."
"Damn," Martin breathed before he could stop himself. He laughed again, soft and awkward, his cheeks and neck already turning pink under the bright studio lighting. "That’s… like really tall."
Diamant nodded, his grin widening into something playful and slightly dangerous. "You’re petit Martin."
Martin blinked up at him. "Petit… what?" He laughed once more, the smooth French accent on Diamant’s tongue making the unfamiliar phrase sound strangely charming. "What does that mean?"
"It means little Martin," Diamant explained softly. "Because you are shorter than me."
He did not move his arm. He kept it draped right over Martin's shoulders, holding him close.
"Ah… yeah." Martin felt his face grow even warmer. He knew without a doubt that he was turning red and that the camera was most definitely catching it too. For reasons he could not fully figure out, standing this close to Diamant made him feel strangely shy, silly, and giddy all at the same time. The taller athlete's presence was entirely overwhelming.
The scene went on for a few more minutes, with the camera catching the casual conversation between the two of them. Martin tried to play along naturally, but every glance from Diamant sent another quick flutter through his chest. When the cameras stopped rolling, the surrounding staff immediately moved in to pack up their belongings for the next site.
Instead of walking back toward the rest of the staff and James, Diamant kept Martin back. He caught Martin by the side of his shirt, guiding him a short distance away from the noise.
"Let’s exchange numbers," Diamant said casually, already pulling his phone out of his back pocket.
Martin's stomach flipped instantly. "Sure."
They quickly swapped phones, typing in their contact information and saving the names. Martin handed the device back, his fingers briefly brushing against Diamant’s hand, which made his heart do another anxious bounce.
As soon as the trade was complete, Martin glanced back toward the rest of his team. James was still over by the main lounge, laughing with one of the staff members.
"Oh, wait," Martin said, turning back to Diamant. "Let me call James hyung so you two can exchange numbers too—"
Diamant’s hand moved quickly, catching Martin’s wrist gently but firmly. The sudden touch stopped Martin mid-sentence.
"I’m only interested in yours," Diamant said, looking straight into his eyes.
Martin froze completely. His mouth opened to speak, then closed without making a sound. The air in his lungs seemed to disappear for a second.
"Oh… oh," Martin finally managed to whisper.
His cheeks burned hotter than they had all day, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. Diamant did not let go of his wrist right away, leaving Martin trapped in the intensity of his gaze while the background chatter of the crew faded into absolute insignificance.
"I mean..." Martin started, letting out a soft, awkward chuckle that he couldn't hold back. "Hah, woah, I just thought maybe..."
Diamant smirked, his fingers loosening their grip just enough to slide down and rest lightly against the palm of Martin's hand. "Well, you thought wrong."
The simple, smug statement left no room for misunderstanding. Martin felt another wave of heat rush to his face, his mind racing to find a normal, nonchalant response, but nothing came to him. He was completely unequipped to handle someone being this direct with him.
"Right," Martin managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah."
Diamant let out a low, amused laugh, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. He finally let go of Martin's hand, stepping back just an inch to give him space, though his presence still felt immense. "I will text you tonight. Don't leave me on read, petit Martin."
Before Martin could process the nickname again, Diamant turned around and smoothly walked back toward his own team, hands shoved casually into his pockets.
Martin stood frozen for a long moment, staring at the floor. He lifted both hands to press his palms against his burning flushed cheeks, trying to force the heat to subside before he had to face his hyung and the crew.
"Yo Martin!" James called out from across the room, waving him over. "We're wrapping up!"
Martin snapped out of his daze, taking a deep, shaky breath to pull himself together. "Coming!" he called back. He shoved his phone deep into his pocket, feeling the faint phantom warmth of Diamant's hand still lingering on his wrist as he finally walked back out into the group.
As they walked back toward the van to head to the hotel, the manager noticed the bright flush still spreading across Martin’s face.
"Martin-ssi, are you okay?" the manager asked, stopping to look at him with concern. "Your face is really red."
James paused next to them, staring at Martin for a second before letting out a sudden chuckle.
Martin’s head snapped up. He cleared his throat quickly, offering a fast, reassuring wave of his hand. "I’m okay! It’s just the heat." He laughed it off, trying to sound as casual as possible so they would drop the subject.
The manager accepted the excuse, nodding and walking ahead to unlock the van doors. Martin quickly climbed inside, sliding into a window seat near the back.
Once the doors slid shut and the van started driving through the streets of Paris, the noise of the city blurred together outside his window. Martin rested his chin on his hand, but his focus was completely somewhere else. He could not stop thinking about the way Diamant had held his wrist. The grip had been gentle, yet completely unyielding, stopping him right in his tracks.
Every time the memory flickered through his head, his skin felt hot all over again. The phantom warmth of Diamant’s hand still lingered on his skin. Martin bit his lower lip, a small, helpless smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was no point in trying to deny it to himself anymore. He was crushing bad, completely caught off guard by the basketball player's bold nature.
His mind wandered further into dangerous territory, imagining what else Diamant could do with that kind of quiet confidence, how easily he could take control of a room or pull Martin even closer than he had earlier before. The mere thought made his pulse spike, his chest tightening in the best possible way.
"Martin. Yo, Martin."
James was leaning across the aisle, snapping his fingers in front of Martin's face to cut through his thoughts. Martin blinked, suddenly pulled right out of his haze, and looked over at James.
"We’re at the hotel," James said, picking up his belongings from the floor.
"Oh. Right," Martin muttered, hastily grabbing his own belongings.
They all stepped out of the vehicle and walked into the hotel's spacious lobby lounge. The rest of the team was already waiting there, sitting on the long plush sofas near the front desk. Some positional shifts were made as they gathered. Juhoon immediately caught sight of Martin’s face as soon as he walked up, his eyes widening with instant amusement.
"Look at him!" Juhoon pointed directly at Martin, chuckling softly. "To-Martin strikes again. Why are you so red, bro?"
Keonho burst out laughing right alongside him, shaking his head. "Seriously dude. Why are you this red?"
Martin groaned softly, pulling his collar up a bit to hide his neck. "The heat here is crazy man. What am I supposed to do about it"
While the two of them joked around, Seonghyeon sat back against the leather cushion, watching the interaction without saying a word. His gaze stayed fixed on Martin, lingering over the bright pink stain on his cheeks and the shy way Martin was avoiding eye contact with everyone. Seonghyeon smiled softly, putting on a calm and casual front for the group, but his eyes were dark, sharp, and intensely focused. Something had happened back at the set. Something specific had made Martin look like this, completely shaken and soft around the edges, and Seonghyeon needed to know exactly what it was.
The team manager called for everyone's attention to run through the schedule for the evening. They spent twenty minutes going over call times, outfit changes, and transport details. Martin listened absentmindedly, nodding in all the right places while his hand stayed firmly planted inside his pant pocket, his thumb running over the smooth glass screen of his phone.
Once the meeting wrapped up, the staff handed out the room keys to the members. They were paired up for the night: Keonho and Juhoon took one key, James and the manager had another room next to them directly, while Martin and Seonghyeon were assigned to share the final room at the end of the corridor.
They all rode the elevator up in relative silence, the exhaustion of the long shoot finally settling over everyone.
When they reached their room, Seonghyeon unlocked the door and stepped inside first, tossing his key card onto the small entry table. Martin followed right behind him, kicking off his shoes at the door. He walked straight over to the large double bed near the window and plopped down onto the mattress face-first with a heavy sigh.
Without losing a single second, Martin reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened his messaging app, typed out a quick message, and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.
I'm back at the hotel, the message read.
He stared at the screen, his heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs while he waited. He did not expect an instant answer, assuming Diamant would be busy wrapping up his own schedule or hanging out with his friends.
Only ten seconds passed before the phone vibrated in his palm.
A reply popped up from Diamant: I miss you already.
Martin’s breath hitched in his throat. He stared at the four words on the screen, his entire face flushing red all over again. His stomach did a hard, dizzying flip. He could not believe how effortlessly bold Diamant was, sending something like that without a single trace of hesitation. It was so direct, so completely unfiltered compared to how Martin usually navigated conversations. A silly, helpless grin spread across Martin's face as he stared at the short message, typing out a response only to delete it, then starting again.
From across the room, Seonghyeon stood near the luggage rack, unzipping his bag. He had been watching Martin the entire time, taking in the way Martin had rushed to check his device, the way his eyes lit up, and the deep blush that had immediately returned to his face.
Seonghyeon stopped what he was doing, his hands resting on the edge of his open suitcase. His expression hardened just a fraction.
"Weren't you on a phone detox?" Seonghyeon asked, his voice completely flat as he broke the quiet in the room.
Martin did not look up. He was entirely too occupied with the screen, his thumb flying across the keyboard as he tried to construct a reply that didn't sound completely desperate or overly eager. "Hmm? What?" he murmured absently, not really listening to what Seonghyeon had said.
Seonghyeon stared at him for a long, heavy silence. The utter lack of attention hit him like a sharp cold snap. Martin was right there in front of him, sitting on the same bed, but his mind was somewhere miles away, completely consumed by whoever was on the other end of that chat.
"Right. Okay," Seonghyeon said under his breath.
The words came out cold and sharp. He grabbed his toiletry bag from the suitcase with unnecessary force, turned on his heel, and marched straight toward the bathroom. He pushed the door back hard, letting it slam shut behind him with a loud, echoing thud that rattled the wooden frame.
The noise resonated loudly across the quiet hotel room.
Martin flinched, his thumb freezing right over the send button on his phone. He raised his head, staring blankly at the closed bathroom door in confusion.
"What's up with him?" Martin muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow at the sudden outburst. He shook his head, assuming Seonghyeon was just exhausted from the long day of filming, and turned his attention back to his phone screen to finish his reply to Diamant.
On the other side of the heavy wooden door, Seonghyeon stood over the marble sink, leaning his hands flat against the edge of the counter. The cold stone pressed against his palms, but it did nothing to cool down the anger rising in his chest. He glared directly at his own reflection in the mirror, his jaw set tight and his chest rising and falling in deep, deliberate breaths.
He was furious. He hated the way Martin had looked when he walked into the lobby, hated that soft, flushed expression that had nothing to do with the Paris heat. Most of all, he hated that someone else had put that look on Martin's face, leaving him completely oblivious to everything and everyone else around him. Seonghyeon stared at the bathroom door, listening to the muffled silence of the main room, desperately wanting to know who had managed to get Martin all smiley and flustered like that.
Seonghyeon stepped out of the bathroom, a trail of warm steam following him into the bedroom. He ran a towel through his damp hair, his eyes immediately locking onto Martin. Martin was standing near his opened suitcase, rapidly throwing on a fresh shirt, pulling it over his shoulders, and fussing with his hair in the vanity mirror.
Seonghyeon paused, holding his towel mid-motion. "What are you doing?"
Martin turned around briefly, adjusting his collar. "Bro, didn't you check the group chat? We're heading out for lunch with everyone."
Seonghyeon blinked, the sudden shift in plans catching him off guard. "Oh. Okay."
He set his towel aside and walked over to his own bag, pulling out a clean outfit. As he changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a black shirt, the heavy silence from earlier returned to the room. The sight of Martin so eager, so light on his feet, kept poking at the back of his mind. Seonghyeon looked over at Martin, who was already fully dressed and checking his phone screen for the third time in two minutes.
"By the way," Seonghyeon began, keeping his tone carefully casual, "who were you texting earlier?"
Martin stopped scrolling. For a fraction of a second, his fingers froze over the glass. He cleared his throat and shoved the device into his pocket, offering a quick, breezy laugh that sounded entirely forced. "Huh? I wasn't texting anyone. I was just watching funny reels."
Seonghyeon stared at him. The lie was so obvious it made his throat feel tight. They had known each other for years, going all the way back to when Seonghyeon was just twelve and Martin was thirteen. They had spent practically every single day together since then, sharing meals, late-night training sessions, and endless night talks at their old dorm. Seonghyeon knew Martin's subtle telltale habits better than anyone else in the world. He knew the specific tone Martin used when he was hiding something, the exact way his eyes shifted when he was trying to laugh off a direct question.
A part of Seonghyeon wanted to press him right there. He wanted to point out that Martin never blushed while staring at short videos, nor did he lock his screen so fast whenever someone walked by. But Seonghyeon held his tongue. He did not want to make a big scene or trigger an unnecessary argument right before they had to go face the rest of the group.
"Oh," Seonghyeon said softly, turning back to adjust his own shirt. "Alright."
Martin seemed to relax, clearly relieved that Seonghyeon let the matter drop. "You ready? The others are probably waiting in the lobby by now."
"Yeah. Let's go."
They left the hotel room together and made their way down the hallway toward the elevator. When the doors opened on the main floor, the rest of members were already gathered near the entrance of the hotel’s internal restaurant. Juhoon and Keonho were chatting with the manager, while James was tying his shoes near the host stand.
The group was guided to a quiet table near the back of the dining room. It was a spacious booth tucked away from the main entrance, giving them enough privacy to relax without worrying about people staring.
As they sat down, James took a seat right next to Seonghyeon. While the others were busy looking over the heavy leather menus, James turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes catching the lingering frustration in Seonghyeon's posture. Everyone else in the group was completely oblivious to the shift in the room's energy, but James had always been observant. He sensed the unspoken tension hanging over Seonghyeon like a dark cloud.
James leaned in closer, keeping his voice low so the others would not hear. "You okay?"
Seonghyeon kept his face completely blank. He looked down at the menu in his hands, refusing to meet James's eyes. "I'm fine, hyung."
James studied him for a second longer, noting the tight line of Seonghyeon's mouth. He did not push the issue any further. He just gave a small, quiet nod of understanding and shifted back into his seat to look at the food options.
Across the table, the waiter approached to take their drink orders. While the rest of the members discussed what dishes to share, Martin sat with his phone resting flat against his knee under the table edge.
Underneath the wood, his thumb was flying. Diamant was texting him back instantly, sending quick, playful messages that kept Martin's heart hammering against his chest. Martin kept biting his lower lip, a bright, helpless smile creeping onto his face every time a new notification popped up. He tried his best to keep his expressions neutral, but the giddy feeling was entirely too overwhelming to contain.
Keonho, who was sitting directly across from Martin, happened to look up from his glass of water. He caught Martin staring down at his lap with an absurdly bright grin.
"Yo, Martin," Keonho called out, pointing at him with a laugh. "What got you all smiley shits over there?"
The sudden callout made Martin flinch. In a panic, he immediately swiped his thumb across the screen, closing out the chat interface and opening up Instagram instead. He lifted the phone up, showing a random reel to the table.
"Nothing!" Martin said quickly, his voice rising a pitch higher than normal. "Just watching funny reels."
Juhoon let out a sharp scoff from the side, shaking his head while cutting into a bread roll. "Same guy who was so keen on doing a digital detox yesterday."
"I can watch a video if I want," Martin muttered defensively, sliding the phone back into his pocket before anyone could ask to see what was actually on his screen.
The food arrived shortly after, and the conversation naturally drifted toward their work schedule for the rest of the day. Martin barely ate his meal, his attention split completely between his plate and the persistent vibrations coming from his coat pocket.
While the rest of the table was busy laughing over a story James was telling, Martin took advantage of the noise to sneak his phone out once more. He clicked on the newest message from Diamant.
Let's go on a date together tonight.
Martin’s heart stopped for a full second. He stared at the single sentence, his breath catching in his throat. His fingers felt suddenly cold against the glass screen as panic and excitement warred inside his mind.
You know I can't, Martin typed back rapidly. The company would kill me if I snuck out. Plus, it's way too dangerous for us and our image as CORTIS.
He hit send, leaning back against the booth cushion while nervously chewing on his inner cheek. The thought of being caught by a photographer or a manager was terrifying, but the mere offer made his entire body buzz with adrenaline.
A few seconds passed before the reply flashed on his screen.
Wear a mask and a hoodie. I don't mind, Diamant replied smoothly.
Martin stared at his phone, shaking his head to himself. I don't know, Diamant. It's risky.
Trust me, it's fine, came the immediate response from the athlete. I'll take care of everything.
Martin was so down bad that all his reasonable caution melted away in an instant. The thought of seeing Diamant again, away from the cameras and staff, was simply too tempting to resist.
Okay, Martin typed out, his hands trembling slightly as he pressed the letters. What time?
Is 12am fine for you?
Martin glanced around the table. By midnight, the managers would be asleep in their own rooms, and the hotel lobby would be quiet.
It's perfect, Martin replied.
With the late-night plans locked in, Martin spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening in a complete blur. The group spent hours filming various promotional videos, collaborating with other guest creators, and gathering additional footage for the upcoming CORTIS Paris vlog. They traveled across the city, stopping at iconic locations, filming short dance clips, and interacting with fans from a distance.
By the time the sun set, they visited the Eiffel Tower to film more short form content and take a few photos for Instagram. The bright yellow lights of the tower sparkled against the dark night sky, casting a gorgeous glow over the plaza. Everyone was laughing, taking photos, and finishing up the final shoot requirements.
Through it all, Martin remained noticeably distant. He went through the motions, smiling for the cameras whenever the crew called for action, but the moment the cameras stopped rolling, his hand would instantly drop back to his pocket to check for new messages.
Seonghyeon watched every single second of it.
During the entire duration of the lunch, the afternoon filming, the dinner break, and the late-night Eiffel Tower shoot, Seonghyeon kept a steady, silent watch over Martin. He saw how Martin constantly lingered near the back of the group, how he kept staring down at his device with that soft, dreamy look, and how he barely spoke two sentences to any of his teammates all night.
When the filming finally wrapped up late in the evening, the tired crew and members loaded into the vans to return to the hotel. They all went straight to their respective rooms, completely drained from the exhausting schedule.
Back in their shared room, Martin was the first one to grab his towel and head into the bathroom to wash up.
Seonghyeon sat on the edge of the large double bed that they were forced to share for the night. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the dark carpet. His mind was racing, trying to assemble the pieces of the puzzle.
He thought back through every moment of the day—the lunch table, the car rides, the quiet moments during the vlog shoot. The way Martin was acting made no sense. He was completely stuck on his phone, tuned out from the rest of the group in a way he had never been before.
Seonghyeon knew for a fact that something significant must have happened right before they met up at the hotel lobby after the morning shoot. Something had changed in those few hours.
He briefly pondered if James had anything to do with it, but immediately ruled that option out. If it were James, Martin would be hanging out with James constantly, chatting with him openly like he always did. No, this was someone else entirely. Someone Martin was actively trying to hide from the rest of the team.
The bathroom door clicked open, breaking Seonghyeon out of his thoughts.
Martin stepped out into the bedroom, steam clinging to his skin. He had dressed in a casual pair of grey sweatpants and a loose shirt, drying his wet hair with a small white towel. As soon as he threw the towel over a chair, he reached straight for his phone on the nightstand.
He unlocked the screen and quickly typed out a text to Diamant.
I just showered.
He set the phone down to grab his hairbrush, but the screen lit up almost instantly with a response.
Martin picked it up again, reading the short message from Diamant: Can't wait to see you, petit Martin.
Martin's breath hitched. A dark, intense flush spread rapidly across his neck and cheeks at the nickname, a helpless, giddy smile breaking across his face right in the middle of the quiet room.
Seonghyeon let out a low, heavy sigh, standing up from the edge of the mattress. He grabbed his clothes and headed straight into the bathroom without saying another word.
The door shut tight, and a moment later, the sound of running water echoed through the wall.
When Seonghyeon finally finished showering and walked back out into the bedroom, he found Martin lying under the covers, completely still. Martin had his back turned to the center of the room, his eyes closed, breathing slowly as if he had already drifted off to sleep.
Seonghyeon stood near the foot of the bed, rubbing a dry towel over his damp hair. He stared at the shape of Martin under the blanket for a long moment, the quiet room feeling heavier than before. Shaking his head, he tossed the towel onto a chair, picked up his phone, and slid into his side of the shared bed. He spent a few minutes idly scrolling through Tiktoks on his phone, the soft light from the screen illuminating his face; before turning off the display, placing the device on the nightstand, and closing his eyes to go to sleep.
Martin, however, was not sleeping at all. He was lying completely still, barely daring to shift his weight. He kept his eyes shut, listening intently to the rhythm of Seonghyeon's breathing. He waited patiently, letting the minutes tick by in total silence. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then forty. He stayed frozen in place until he was absolutely certain that Seonghyeon was sound asleep and the hotel corridor outside was completely dead.
Once the coast was clear, Martin carefully peeled back the heavy blanket. He sat up without making a sound, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. Despite the summer heat lingering in the Paris air, he reached over to grab a dark jacket to throw over his clothes. He grabbed his phone and a black face mask off the desk, sliding his feet into his shoes.
He pulled up his messages and typed out a quick note to Diamant: I'm coming now.
Sneaking out of the hotel room was a tense process. Martin turned the door handle with extreme caution, stepping out into the hallway and letting the lock click shut behind him as softly as possible. He took the service stairs down to avoid the main elevator, slipping past the quiet lobby and stepping out into the night air of the city.
He followed the directions on his phone screen, walking rapidly toward the exact meeting spot Diamant had sent him earlier. The location was tucked away in an underpass beneath a bridge running over the Seine River. The streetlights flickered against the surface of the water, casting long shadows against the stone walls of the riverbank.
As Martin approached the underpass, he instantly spotted a massive, tall figure standing near the stone ledge. Even in the dim lighting, Diamant’s towering frame was impossible to mistake.
A wave of excitement hit Martin, and he instinctively broke into a fast run toward him. Halfway there, he caught himself, slowing his pace down to a quick walk in a desperate attempt to look calm, collected, and not entirely down bad.
Diamant watched him approach, a confident smile spreading across his face. The moment Martin got within arm's reach, Diamant stepped forward and wrapped one large hand firmly around Martin’s waist, pulling him in close without any hesitation.
"I'm glad you came," Diamant said, his voice deep and smooth in the quiet underpass.
Martin’s face flushed red instantly under his mask. "Yeah," he managed to say, his voice sounding entirely too soft. "I made it."
They stayed by the edge of the river for a while, sitting near the stone wall and chatting softly about their days. The city was quiet around them, the gentle sound of the river moving past keeping them company.
Throughout the entire conversation, Martin found it nearly impossible to focus on just the words. His eyes kept wandering, constantly fixing on Diamant's hands—large, strong, and veiny—and the sheer build of his shoulders. Standing or sitting next to the athlete made Martin feel completely small in comparison. He was utterly lost, falling deep into feelings he couldn't even control anymore.
Diamant was just as captivated. His eyes never left Martin for a single second, watching every small movement, every nervous shift, and the way Martin's eyes lit up whenever he spoke.
After a quiet pause in their conversation, Diamant leaned back against the ledge, looking down at Martin with a faint, intriguing expression.
"Petit Martin," Diamant began softly, "have you ever been to a motel before?"
Martin blinked, completely caught off guard by the sudden question. "No. Never." He tilted his head, looking up at the taller athlete. "What are we gonna do there?"
Diamant smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It's a secret."
Before Martin could process the answer or ask another question, Diamant reached out, his long fingers wrapping gently around Martin’s wrist. He pulled him in close, leaning down to press a warm, lingering kiss right against Martin’s exposed cheek.
The unexpected touch made Martin’s breath hitch entirely. After stepping back just an inch, Diamant reach out and gently pulled Martin’s black mask back up over his nose and mouth, patting his cheek lightly.
Martin was completely frozen, feeling entirely giddy, shy, and overwhelmed from the simple kiss. His face felt like it was on fire under the cloth of his mask. He was so thoroughly flustered that he completely surrendered to the situation, letting himself be manhandled and guided around by the 203cm tall guy without a single word of protest. He had no clear idea of what they actually were, and everything was moving at a dizzying pace, but he loved every single second of it. He completely abandoned his usual caution and let himself be led wherever Diamant wanted to take him.
They walked together through the quiet side streets until they reached a small, discreet motel tucked away from the main avenues. Diamant handled the check-in swiftly, taking the key card and leading Martin up a narrow flight of stairs to a door at the end of the hall.
Diamant unlocked the door, pushed it open, and stepped to the side. He gestured casually into the dimly lit room with a sly tilt of his head.
"Enter, mon petit Martin," Diamant said, his voice dripping with easy charm.
Martin walked into the room, his entire face bright red under his mask, his pulse hammering wildly in his ears.
Behind him, Diamant stepped inside, pushing the heavy wooden door shut with a solid click. He locked it, turning around to face Martin with a broad, confident smirk stretching across his face.
Diamant closed the distance between them in two swift steps, trapping Martin back against the solid wall near the entrance. He leaned down, his eyes fixed on the younger guy's face. Martin kept his gaze locked onto the floor, unable to look directly up in the sudden quiet of the room.
Diamant extended a hand, his long fingers resting under Martin's chin to tilt his head upward. With his other hand, he unhooked the straps of the black mask, pulling it away completely and dropping it onto the nearby counter.
"You know, you're so cute when you're shy," Diamant said softly.
A deep crimson spread across Martin's cheeks at the phrase. Before he could assemble any sort of reply, Diamant leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss.
Martin hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning into the touch. He lacked any actual experience with this level of intimacy, being a total virgin compared to the athlete standing over him. He simply followed the taller guy's lead, feeling completely swept up in the moment. Diamant’s large hands moved across the jacket covering Martin’s back, settling firmly against his waist before one hand shifted up to gently cup the back of his neck.
Eventually, Diamant pulled back just enough to break the contact, a broad grin spreading across his face.
"Wanna go further?" Diamant asked, his dark eyes with lust searching Martin's flushed face.
Martin gave an immediate, eager nod.
Diamant let out a low laugh, his thumb softly brushing against Martin's bottom lip. "Use your words, baby."
Martin swallowed the lump in his throat, looking directly up into Diamant's eyes.
"Yes," Martin said, his voice coming out soft yet completely clear.
Diamant guided Martin across the quiet room with a steady hand at the small of his back. The bed waited in the soft glow of the single lamp. Once they reached the edge Diamant pressed him down with careful strength. Martin sank into the mattress and a small sound slipped from his throat before he could stop it. The whimper was high and unguarded. Diamant’s mouth curved into a slow smirk at the noise.
He climbed over Martin, his knees settled on either side of the younger guy’s hips and his hands braced against the sheets near Martin’s shoulders. The position left Martin looking up at him with wide eyes. Diamant studied the flush already rising across those cheeks.
“You’re so cute,” he said, voice low and warm.
Martin’s face burned hotter. He turned his head slightly, Diamant stayed above him a moment longer before sitting back just enough to reach for the hem of his own shirt. He pulled the fabric up and over his head in one smooth motion. The light caught the solid lines of his chest and the defined planes of his stomach. He dropped the shirt aside and looked down again.
“Want me to help you?”
Martin shook his head quickly. “I can do it myself.”
His fingers worked at the zipper of his jacket first. The material slid off his shoulders and he set it aside with more care than necessary. Then he tugged his own shirt free. The garment left him bare from the waist up. His frame was leaner, the muscle present but less pronounced than Diamant’s. He kept his eyes on the sheets for a second after the shirt was gone.
They were both in nothing but briefs now. Diamant’s gaze traveled over him without hurry.
“Don’t be shy,” he murmured. “I’ll take mine off first then.”
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pushed them down. The fabric cleared his hips and thighs until he could kick them away. His cock sprang free, thick and already half hard, the length of it undeniable in the dim light. Martin’s throat moved as he swallowed. His eyes fixed on the sight for a long beat.
“You’re big,” Martin said, the words almost quiet.
Diamant’s smirk returned, he chuckled softly. “Your turn, baby.”
Martin hesitated. His hands rested on his own waistband and stayed there for several seconds. Then he pushed the briefs down. The fabric caught for a moment at his thighs before he managed to free himself. His cock was hard as well, a solid size of its own though smaller than Diamant’s. He left the briefs somewhere near the foot of the bed and stayed still afterward, waiting.
Diamant looked at him and the soft smile stayed in place. “Cute.”
He leaned down without further comment. His mouth found Martin’s again, the kiss deeper this time, slower. He took his time with it, tasting and pressing until Martin’s lips parted under his. When he finally drew back it was only to trail his mouth along the side of Martin’s jaw. He avoided the clean line of the neck where any mark might show later. Instead his lips moved lower, across the collarbone and onto the upper chest.
Martin’s breathing changed as Diamant’s mouth continued. The older guy’s tongue flicked against one nipple, then the other. Martin’s body reacted at once. A sharp inhale left him and his back arched a fraction off the mattress. His hands found Diamant’s shoulders and held on.
Diamant stayed careful. He worked each nipple with the flat of his tongue and the light scrape of teeth, never rushing. Martin’s sensitivity made every touch land harder than it might have on someone else. Soft moans kept leaving him, half-formed and helpless. Diamant’s hands settled on Martin’s sides, thumbs stroking the skin while his mouth kept its focused attention.
Eventually he shifted lower. He settled between Martin’s spread thighs, the position open and intimate. Martin watched him with glazed eyes, chest rising and falling faster now. Diamant glanced up once to meet that look. Then he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the soft skin of Martin’s inner thigh.
He sucked deliberately. The pressure built until a dark mark began to form. He kept his eyes on Martin’s face the entire time, watching the way the younger guy’s expression went slack with pleasure. Martin’s lips parted. A broken sound left him that was almost a moan.
“Oh fuck,” Martin breathed.
The words came out loose and distant, as if the sensation had pulled him somewhere else for a moment. His thighs trembled on either side of Diamant’s shoulders. The hickey darkened slowly under Diamant’s careful mouth while Martin stayed lost in the feeling, body open and responsive beneath him.
Diamant’s hand slid lower while Martin still floated in that haze from the mark on his thigh. Fingers brushed the soft skin behind Martin’s balls and then found the tight entrance waiting there. The touch was light at first, just the pad of one finger resting against the rim. Martin tensed under him.
Diamant lifted his head enough to look at Martin’s face. “Have you done it before?”
Martin’s answer came out unsteady. “N-no.”
The single word carried a tremor. Diamant’s expression softened into something almost fond.
“Cute.”
He reached toward his discarded pants, his hand disappeared into a pocket and came back holding a small bottle of lube. The cap flipped open with a quiet click. He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers until the liquid shone under the lamp. He warmed it between his digits for a moment before returning his attention to Martin.
One slick finger pressed carefully at the rim. He worked it in slow circles, coaxing rather than forcing. Martin’s breath hitched. Diamant watched every shift in the younger guy’s expression as the first finger slipped inside. The heat and tightness closed around him at once. He stayed still for several seconds, letting Martin adjust to the new sensation.
When the tension in Martin’s thighs eased a fraction, Diamant began to move. The finger slid deeper, then drew back, then pressed forward again. He added a second only after Martin’s body stopped resisting the first. The stretch drew a soft sound from Martin’s throat. Diamant leaned up and captured his mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing each moan as it formed. Their tongues met while his fingers continued their careful work below.
He scissored gently, spreading the lube and opening Martin by degrees. A third finger joined after more time had passed. Martin’s hands gripped Diamant’s arms now, nails digging in as the fullness increased. Diamant kept kissing him through it, taking every shaky exhale and broken noise into his own mouth. His free hand stroked along Martin’s side in a steady rhythm meant to soothe.
Only when Martin’s body accepted the three fingers with less resistance did Diamant ease them free. He coated his cock with more of the lube, stroking himself once to spread it evenly. Then he settled between Martin’s legs again. The blunt head of his cock pressed against the prepared entrance.
He pushed forward with controlled pressure. The tight heat resisted at first, then yielded. Inch by inch he sank inside until his hips met Martin’s ass and he was fully buried. Martin’s head tipped back against the pillow. A long, trembling moan left him. Diamant stayed completely still, giving him time to feel every part of the stretch.
When Martin’s breathing evened out enough, Diamant began to move. He drew back almost all the way and then pressed deep again. The pace stayed measured, each thrust rolled through Martin’s body and pulled another sound from him. Martin’s legs wrapped around Diamant’s waist of their own accord. His nails found Diamant’s back and scratched down the length of it, leaving faint red lines in their wake.
Diamant angled his hips after a few more strokes. The new position made the head of his cock drag directly across the sensitive spot inside Martin. The reaction was immediate. Martin’s entire body jerked. His voice broke on a louder moan. Diamant kept the same angle, grinding against that place with every deep push. Martin’s sensitivity turned each contact into something overwhelming. His cock slowly started leaking precum against his own stomach.
The room filled with the wet sound of their bodies and Martin’s increasingly desperate noises. Diamant watched the way Martin’s face changed, eyes half-lidded and mouth open. He thrust harder now, still careful but with more purpose. Martin’s nails raked across his shoulders again. The younger guy’s thighs shook where they held onto him.
Martin’s voice cracked. “I’m gonna… ah… cum—”
Diamant leaned closer, breath warm against Martin’s cheek. “Yeah? Cum for me, baby.”
The permission seemed to tip him over. Martin’s body locked up, his cock pulsed and he came hard across his stomach and chest, the release spilling in thick ropes while his hole clenched rhythmically around Diamant. The tight fluttering pulled a rough groan from Diamant’s throat. He did not slow down. He kept driving into Martin through the entire orgasm, chasing the way those spasms milked him.
Martin’s sounds turned almost continuous, oversensitive and helpless. Diamant’s own climax built fast under that pressure. A few more deep thrusts and he buried himself to the hilt. His cock throbbed as he came, filling Martin in heavy pulses. He stayed pressed close while the last waves passed through him.
When the intensity finally eased he lowered his head and pressed soft kisses along the side of Martin’s neck, still careful not to give him any hickeys there. Martin’s chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths. His arms stayed loosely around Diamant’s shoulders, body loose and spent beneath him. Diamant remained inside for a while longer, simply holding the position and letting both of them come down together in the quiet that followed.
Diamant moved around the small motel bed to reach the nightstand, grabbing a few dry towels from the side shelf. He took his time wiping down Martin's skin before cleaning himself up. Every touch remained surprisingly gentle despite his massive size, his long fingers moving with a calm precision that helped ease the remaining tension out of Martin's posture. Once everything was cleaned up, Diamant pulled the thick motel blanket up over their shoulders, settling his back against the pillows and opening one arm. Martin didn't hesitate to slide right into his side, resting his head directly on Diamant's chest, his small frame almost entirely hidden against the athlete's wide torso.
The quiet sound of Diamant’s steady heartbeat filled the silence of the room. Martin traced small, absentminded patterns over the fabric of Diamant’s chest, feeling a strange mix of complete exhaustion and restless mental energy. His mind kept racing backward over the events of the last few hours.
"How are you so good at everything?" Martin asked softly, his voice muffled slightly against Diamant’s collarbone.
Diamant shifted slightly, looking down at the blonde hair resting on his chest. "Hmm? What do you mean by that?"
Martin paused, his fingers stopping mid-motion. He felt his face warm up again, though there was no real reason to hide it anymore. "I mean... you just know how to do everything. You can flirt so easily. You make people fall for you without even trying. You're great at kissing, and sex and... and everything else we just did. Your charisma is just really intense."
The words kept spilling out faster than he intended, his innate tendency to overthink taking over the quiet mood. He felt himself spiraling into a rambled mess of compliments, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "It's like you don't even have to try. Every time you talk to someone, they just listen. And every time you look at me, I just..."
Martin caught himself mid-sentence, suddenly hyper-aware of how foolish he sounded. He bit his lower lip hard, pressing his face back into the fabric of the shirt. "Well... you get what I mean."
Diamant let out a soft, chest-rumbling laugh that vibrated against Martin’s cheek. He wrapped both arms more tightly around Martin’s waist, pulling the younger boy completely on top of his side. He buried his face into Martin's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.
"I don't know what you're on about, petit Martin," Diamant murmured fondly, his voice deep and thick with residual sleepiness. "You overthink way too much."
They stayed locked in that comfortable position for a long time, the ambient noise of distant city traffic humming faintly outside the thin motel window. Martin lay there listening to the steady rise and fall of Diamant’s chest, but the heavy silence eventually started to feel heavy with unanswered questions. The quiet was too loud, forcing him back into his own head.
"What are we?" Martin asked, the question slipping out before he could filter it.
Diamant’s hand, which had been stroking Martin’s upper back in slow, rhythmic circles, suddenly went still. He didn't answer right away. The silence stretched out between them, growing thicker by the second.
Martin felt a sudden knot form in his throat. He shifted his weight slightly, trying to read Diamant’s expression in the dim shadows of the room. "I mean... tomorrow is my last day in Paris. After that, I have to fly back to Seoul with the rest of the group. We're going straight back into schedules, and..."
Before he could spiral any further into his anxiety, Diamant brought two fingers up to gently rest against Martin’s lips, stopping the burst of words entirely.
"No need to think about it," Diamant said softly. His tone wasn't cold, but it carried a finality that made it clear the topic was closed for the night. He smoothed down Martin’s messy hair, pulling him back against his shoulder.
Martin swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, but he didn't push the issue. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his body relax back against the warmth of the taller man, allowing the sheer physical comfort of being held to temporarily wash away the lingering uncertainty.
Time passed in a haze of warmth and quiet breathing. Eventually, the cold air coming from the bottom of the motel door made Martin shiver slightly. He stretched one hand out toward the side table, reaching for his phone to check the light on the screen.
The digits illuminated in the dark: 03:13 AM.
Martin sat up instantly, a sudden spike of panic cutting through his sleepy haze. "I have to go back to the hotel."
Diamant groaned softly at the sudden loss of warmth, but he didn't try to stop him. He sat up, running a heavy hand over his face before swinging his long legs out of the bed. "Alright. Let's get you back before your managers notice."
They dressed in the dim light of the bedroom, moving with quick, practiced efficiency. Martin pulled his jacket on, adjusting the hem before reaching onto the counter for his mask. He looped the straps around his ears, pulling the fabric up to cover his mouth and nose until only his wide eyes were visible. Diamant watched him from the foot of the bed, a small, knowing smirk touching the corners of his lips as he watched the idol transform back into his public persona.
They slipped out of the motel through the quiet back exit. The night air was sharp against Martin's warm skin. Diamant flagged down a passing taxi at the corner of the street, opening the back door for Martin.
"Get in," Diamant said quietly.
Martin climbed into the backseat, looking up at the massive frame of the athlete standing in the open doorway. "Thank you," he whispered.
Diamant leaned down, placing a fast, lingering kiss against the fabric of the mask right over Martin's lips. "Text me when you're inside."
He shut the door, and the taxi pulled away into the quiet Parisian night. Martin turned around in his seat, looking out the rear window to watch Diamant’s tall figure shrink into the distance until the car took a sharp right turn onto the main boulevard. A shy, uncontrollable smile spread across Martin's face beneath the thick layer of his mask.
The drive back to the upscale hotel took less than fifteen minutes. The streets were completely deserted, save for a few stray streetlights reflecting off the damp asphalt. Martin paid the driver with cash, keeping his jacket pulled low over his face as he stepped out onto the marble entrance of the hotel complex.
He bypassed the grand lobby entirely, taking the side stairs up to the floor reserved for CORTIS. His heart was pounding violently against his ribs with every step he took down the carpeted hallway. He reached the room, his hands trembling slightly as he slid the keycard into the lock. He waited for the small green light to flash, turning the handle with extreme precision so it wouldn't make a sound.
The door pushed open without a creak, the room was completely dark, save for the faint glow of the city lights bleeding through the sheer curtains.
Martin stepped inside, holding his breath as he pulled the door shut until he heard the soft click of the latch. He stood motionless against the entryway wall for a full minute, listening intently to the room.
Across the room, on the bed, Seonghyeon was tucked under the white duvet, his face turned toward the entrance. His chest rose and fell in a deep, rhythmic motion that indicated he was fast asleep.
Martin let out a massive sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as the overwhelming tension drained out of his body. Seonghyeon hadn't woken up. He hadn't noticed his absence at all.
Moving as quietly as possible, Martin reached up and pulled off his face mask, dropping it onto the entryway table along with his jacket. He crept across the plush carpet on his tiptoes, making his way toward his side of the bed. He slid under the covers, back against Seonghyeon's, the cool sheets wrapping around his legs.
He grabbed his phone, hiding the bright screen under the blanket so the light wouldn't illuminate the room. He opened his messaging app and typed out a quick message to the top contact on his list.
Made it back safely. Goodnight.
Almost instantly, the screen lit up with a reply.
Bonne nuit, mon petit Martin.
A soft, suppressed giggle escaped Martin's lips before he could stop it. He quickly pressed his face into his pillow to muffle the sound, his chest swelling with an intense, giddy warmth that made his toes curl. He clutched the phone to his chest, staring up at the dark ceiling as the fatigue finally pulled him under. Within minutes, his breathing slowed down into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Across the dark room, Seonghyeon lay completely rigid beneath his blankets.
He wasn't asleep. He hadn't been asleep for hours.
When Seonghyeon had woken up around two in the morning to use the bathroom, he had immediately noticed the empty space next to him. He had checked the bathroom, the small sitting area, and even the hallway, only to find nothing. The panic had set in fast, a cold, sickening sensation settling heavy in his stomach as he realized Martin was gone in the middle of the night in a foreign city. He had spent the last hour sitting in the dark, staring at the locked door, waiting and agonizing over where the leader of his group could possibly be.
And then the door had opened.
Seonghyeon had closed his eyes instantly, pretending to be asleep as he listened to Martin sneak into the room. He had felt the shift in the air, the unmistakable energy of someone coming back from a secret meeting.
And then he had heard it.
The small, unmistakable giggle that Martin had tried to bury in his pillow. It was a sound Seonghyeon had never heard Martin make around the group, around the managers, or around him. It was soft, unguarded, and completely full of affection.
In the pitch-black quiet of the room, a single, hot tear slipped out from the corner of Seonghyeon’s eye, tracing a slow path down his temple before soaking into the white pillowcase beneath his head.
He kept his teeth clenched tight, his chest aching with a dull, suffocating pain. The realization hit him with absolute, brutal clarity. The subtle shifts in behavior over the past few hours, the distracted glances at the phone, the sudden daydreaming—it all made sense now.
Martin was in love with someone else. And whoever it was, it wasn't him.