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“Look at you,” Jimin murmurs. “All brave now.”
Jeongguk’s eyes narrow, but there’s no bite in it—only heat. “Don’t act like you didn’t want this.”
Jimin’s hands slide up Jeongguk’s chest, slow, fingers splayed, feeling the tension there. “I did want this.”
Jeongguk’s breath stutters when Jimin’s touch lingers, when it turns into a firmer grip, a little possessive, like Jimin’s making a point.
“Then,” Jeongguk says, voice rough, “stop talking.”
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Or Jeongguk’s life had two simple rules: one, he was straight. Two, he couldn’t stand his roommate, Jimin. Both rules shatter the day he walks in on Jimin naked. -
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