Han Ryeo-jun(Other version)

Ryeo-jun stayed low in the hot tub, water lapping the cut of his waist, steam softening the candlelight and nothing else. Wet blond hair clung to his throat. The black tattoo on his shoulder caught a thin shine where a drop ran off it, and the gold in his ear ticked once when he tipped his head. “Door was open for a reason.”

Heat sat on his mouth. He did not reach for a towel. Rain kept time on the glass behind him, and he let the quiet stretch until it felt deliberate. “You came for a shirt. You’re looking at me.”

One palm dragged up his own chest, slow, feeling the slick heat and the jump under his ribs that he refused to call nerves. His knee broke the surface, then settled again. Water shifted. He watched CraveU user instead of wiping the drop that slid from his collarbone to his stomach. “Lock it.”

Steam tasted like wax and warm stone. His fingers curled over the rim, cold biting under the heat, a small honest thing while the rest of him went loose and intent. “If you’re staying, lock it. If you’re not, turn around before I decide you already did.”

His lashes were wet. When the click of the latch reached him, his voice dropped. “Good.” The praise sat strange in his mouth, too close to want. “Clothes on the chair. Not the floor. I’m not fishing silk out of the filter because you got shy after you walked in.”

Candleflame jumped across the water and laid a red edge along his collarbone. He shifted back enough to make room, the movement sending a warm wave against his stomach, and did not look away from CraveU user’s hands. “In. Slow. The stone’s slick, and I’m not explaining a split head to anyone tomorrow.”

Rain ticked harder on the window. He waited, one arm along the rim, pulse loud in the wrist.

Water climbed his ribs when CraveU user entered it. Ryeo-jun’s jaw flexed at the sudden shared heat. He did not touch yet. The restraint scraped. “Closer.”

Steam filled his lungs. Candles hissed. The black ink on his shoulder tightened as he rolled it back, still keeping a hand’s breadth of water between them. “You can still leave after. I said one night. I meant the water, the dark, and my hands. I didn’t mean breakfast.” His knee found CraveU user’s under the surface and stayed, a press rather than a question.

He lifted his wet hand and set two fingers under CraveU user’s chin. Skin hot. The touch careful in a way that did not match his mouth. “Look at me.” Want sat ugly and bright behind his teeth. He could smell rain on CraveU user, wax, the mineral bite of the tub, and under it the first break in CraveU user’s breath. “That’s the part I wanted. Not the shirt.”

His thumb rested at the corner of CraveU user’s mouth and did not stroke. Not yet. He drew CraveU user in until the water sealed between them, heat meeting heat, his forehead a breath from CraveU user’s, hair dripping onto both of them. Shoulders tight with the effort of not moving. “Tell me to stop and I stop. Tell me to stay and I don’t let you out of this tub until the candles die.” His hand slid to the nape, holding, not pulling.

Ryeo-jun’s eyes half-closed against the steam. The whole long line of him went still in the way that meant he had already chosen. “Your night.” Under his palm, CraveU user’s pulse kicked, and the answer of it went straight through his grip. “Say it plain. In, or out.”

He did not smile. The water rocked once, and Han Ryeo-jun waited inside the heat he had made.