By Zephyria 
“…….”
That was simply because he had been so surprised that he failed to contain his pheromones, allowing a small amount to leak. He hadn’t expected Han Seung-jae to enter so suddenly.
As Han Seung-jae stepped closer, he tilted his head slightly. A long shadow fell over Seo Yi-kyung’s shoulders. The more he did, the more Yi-kyung felt his straight spine stiffen.
“Smelling it makes me aroused and feel good.”
Han Seung-jae savored the strange sensation of heat spreading through his body. The scent of roses surrounding Seo Yi-kyung was so seductive that it made him forget everything that had happened outside in an instant.
Seo Yi-kyung’s lips parted slightly. His face looked conflicted, unsure of how to respond to Han Seung-jae’s words. In the meantime, Han Seung-jae showed curiosity.
“Is one of the cups for me?”
On the tray Yi-kyung was holding sat a teapot and two teacups. He had actually been on his way to the painting studio. Until a moment ago, he had been painting with Seon-yu.
“I was planning to have a drink, but I guess I shouldn’t.”
Han Seung-jae reached out and took the tray from Seo Yi-kyung’s hands.
Having had the tray snatched away, Seo Yi-kyung stood there bewildered, watching Han Seung-jae’s retreating back. The suit wrapping his broad shoulders, the sharp, clean lines of his stride. Yi-kyung’s gaze swept down to his long legs before snapping back up.
“Didn’t you say you were going to the second floor?”
Han Seung-jae stopped halfway up the stairs and looked back. Seo Yi-kyung’s shoulders tensed up sharply. It felt as if he had been caught peeking.
Step by step, Seo Yi-kyung moved slowly. Seon-yu would still be painting in the studio. He was waiting for him.
The bedroom was located at the furthest end of the second floor. After walking casually down the long hallway, Han Seung-jae stopped again and turned around. He looked at the lingering Seo Yi-kyung and asked,
“What are you doing?”
Han Seung-jae began walking back toward him. Reflexively, Seo Yi-kyung stepped backward. At that, Han Seung-jae’s brow furrowed slightly. Seo Yi-kyung quickly blurted out the first words that came to mind.
“I… I smelled cigarette smoke.”
He tried his best to make an excuse.
“It’s making it hard to breathe…”
His body was incredibly frail. He could feel his stamina plummeting even while painting.
“Cigarettes?”
He had just said whatever came to mind, but it seemed to work. Han Seung-jae stopped in his tracks and looked down at the suit he was wearing.
Jin Tae-won smoked incessantly. Having been around him, Yi-kyung had become numb to it, but Han Seung-jae finally realized that a thick, acrid smell clung to his body.
Han Seung-jae opened the bedroom door. He set the tray down on the nightstand and headed straight for the bathroom.
As soon as Seo Yi-kyung saw him enter the bathroom, he hurriedly turned and headed back out.
His slender ankles wobbled as he ran down the stairs, forcing him to lean against the wall to regain his balance. He ran straight to the painting studio. It was late at night, but he didn’t have the luxury to worry about that now.
When the studio door swung open, Seon-yu, who was standing at the work table, widened his eyes.
“What’s wrong? You could have come slowly. Did you run here?”
“Ha… haa… Seon-yu, let’s stop painting for today.”
Seo Yi-kyung spoke breathlessly and urgently. The two of them had stayed in the studio ever since dinner. Then, noticing they had run out of tea, Yi-kyung had headed to the kitchen. That was where he had encountered Han Seung-jae.
Seon-yu, who was cleaning a brush at the work table, nodded.
“Sure. My shoulders were starting to feel stiff anyway.”
“Yeah. Good work. You don’t have to clean up. I’ll do it tomorrow morning.”
“It’s okay. I just need to wash the brushes.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s hands were full of urgency as he scanned the work table.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Got it. Go up and get some rest.”
After a few more words with Seon-yu, Seo Yi-kyung hurriedly took the elevator back to the bedroom. His heart was pounding so violently it felt as if it might leap out of his chest.
The moment he stepped inside the room, the bathroom door opened and Han Seung-jae emerged wearing a bathrobe.
“Have you been standing there this whole time?”
“Ah…”
Seo Yi-kyung trailed off as he closed the door. Turning away, he repeatedly tried to steady his ragged breathing. Behind him, the sound of slippers padding closer echoed.
Drying his wet hair, Han Seung-jae touched the teapot. In the meantime, the tea had cooled to a lukewarm temperature.
As Seo Yi-kyung moved, Han Seung-jae lifted the teapot and filled a cup. As he drew closer, the subtle scent of tea wafted to the tip of Yi-kyung’s nose. To that, the white sandalwood scent from Han Seung-jae’s body was added.
Now that the acrid smell that had enveloped him was gone, the fragrance was clearer than before.
“Sit.”
As Seo Yi-kyung perched on the edge of the bed, Han Seung-jae handed him the teacup. Seo Yi-kyung received it with both hands.
Han Seung-jae’s gaze lingered on Seo Yi-kyung’s fingers. There were a few smudges of paint.
He also sat on the edge of the bed. Feeling a heavy sense of pressure, Seo Yi-kyung brought the cup to his lips.
“Were you painting the whole time?”
After taking a sip of tea, Seo Yi-kyung finally noticed his own hand. He saw the stains on the fingers gripping the cup.
Han Seung-jae used the towel he was holding to wipe the back of Seo Yi-kyung’s hand. Startled, Seo Yi-kyung tried to pull his hand away, but Han Seung-jae’s grip was stronger.
Unable to do anything while still holding the saucer, Seo Yi-kyung simply surrendered his hand to Han Seung-jae.
The damp towel swept over the back of his hand repeatedly. Seo Yi-kyung stole a glance at Han Seung-jae sitting beside him.
His hair, not yet dry, was damp. His gaze traveled over the sharp eyes, the straight bridge of his nose, and the well-shaped lips.
“Here.”
Han Seung-jae opened his palm as if telling him to put the cup there. The large palm beckoned.
“I can just wash it anyway…”
In the end, Han Seung-jae took the cup from Seo Yi-kyung’s hand. He set it on the nightstand and personally took Seo Yi-kyung’s right hand to wipe it.
“What about dinner?”
Hesitating at the low voice vibrating in his ear, Seo Yi-kyung answered.
“I ate with Seon-yu.”
He pondered for a moment whether it was a good idea to mention Seon-yu’s name, as Han Seung-jae often wore an expression of distaste.
As expected, he stopped tending to the hand and looked up at Seo Yi-kyung.
“Did you… eat dinner, Seung-jae?”
Seo Yi-kyung tried hard to shift the topic away from Seon-yu, but there was no way Han Seung-jae wouldn’t notice. Han Seung-jae knew very well that he wasn’t asking out of curiosity or worry. Still, he played along.
“No. I’m about to eat now.”
Seo Yi-kyung curled the hand holding the saucer. It was because he didn’t immediately understand Han Seung-jae’s words. All he had brought on the tray was tea. There was nothing to eat.
“Are you going down to the kitchen? I’ll wake Butler Do. If he prepares while you change your clothes…”
It’ll be fine. Before he could finish his sentence, Seo Yi-kyung’s hips, which had been awkwardly lifting from the bed, were pulled back down.
“…?”
Was it an illusion that Han Seung-jae’s face had suddenly become so close? His head tilted diagonally. Only after his lower lip was firmly pressed did Seo Yi-kyung realize it wasn’t an illusion.
Han Seung-jae used his tongue to part Seo Yi-kyung’s lips and pulled away the hand holding the towel. Then, wrapping his hand around the nape of Seo Yi-kyung’s neck and stroking it languidly, he entwined his tongue with the frozen flesh inside the mouth.
Perhaps because he had just taken a sip of tea, the tip of the tongue, faintly tinged with the scent of tea, tasted sweet.
“Nngh…”
A moan escaped Seo Yi-kyung’s parted teeth. Though they had only entwined tongues and sucked slightly, the more the wet tips tried to retreat, the more persistently Han Seung-jae’s tongue pushed deeper into the mouth.
Han Seung-jae captured the nape of the neck, the shoulder, and the thin shoulder blade in his grip, caressing them. He then cradled Seo Yi-kyung’s waist and laid him back on the bed.
“Ha, haa…”
Thump. Lying flat on the bed, Seo Yi-kyung blinked. His cheeks were flushed a slight reddish hue.
Han Seung-jae took the saucer from Seo Yi-kyung’s hand. He had been gripping it so hard that his fingertips had turned white, despite the fact that such a thing could not possibly help him.
Han Seung-jae tossed the saucer carelessly onto the nightstand. As he turned his head back down, Seo Yi-kyung, catching his shallow breath, murmured.
“If I wash up first…”
“Forget it.”
Han Seung-jae spoke firmly as he began unbuttoning the shirt Seo Yi-kyung was wearing.
“I guess you were in the studio all day.”
His voice was quite indulgent. Like someone enjoying a feast with their eyes before tasting it.
Aside from the pheromones that held a moderate heat matching his body temperature, the scent of oil paints wafted from Seo Yi-kyung’s body. That quite whetted Han Seung-jae’s appetite.
A scent that matched Seo Yi-kyung’s simple, innocent, and clean appearance. It fueled a strange desire to spray his own pheromones over it and cover it up.
From head to toe. No, just imagining Seo Yi-kyung smelling of his body scent even inside his mouth and holes made Han Seung-jae feel a dull ache in his pelvic bone. It was hard to feel this way even when meeting or seeing others outside. It was an inexplicable emotion that arose simply from looking at the lying Seo Yi-kyung.
As the buttons were pulled through the holes, the shirt spread open to the left and right, revealing Seo Yi-kyung’s snow-white upper body. Han Seung-jae reached out and gathered the nonexistent chest in his grip. The pointed nipples were crushed between his fingers. Should he rub his cock over this first? It seemed like it would be good to leave a strong scent by staining him with his fluids.
“Ugh… we were painting together.”
Han Seung-jae’s upper body gradually lowered. When he slightly released the chest he had gripped, faint finger marks remained. Han Seung-jae extended his tongue and licked the round, budding nipple.
“And? What did you paint?”
Unlike his cool lips, the breath that hit him was burning hot. Seo Yi-kyung’s flanks trembled. The feeling of the wet tongue touching the area beneath his chest was chilling. Soon after, it felt as if all the surrounding skin was being sucked away.