Free

by DevilJesus

Summary:

Hanbin was born into a world of blood and betrayal, raised to be nothing more than a weapon for WakeOne, a ruthless mafia empire. He finds himself entangled with Zhang Hao, the enigmatic leader of Zerose, WakeOne’s greatest enemy.
Their obsession with each other deepens, blurring the lines between loyalty and desire, control and surrender.

Notes:

Please share your opinions, I love to read comments!
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This story took me a good two months to write, and the addition of Devils Game and the teasers for the comeback really helped too!!

The heavy scent of tobacco and soju lingered in the air, thick and cloying. The dimly lit room hummed with quiet tension, the only sound the occasional clink of ice against glass. 

Bang Yoontea, the formidable leader of the WakeOne Group, one of the strongest mafia organisations in Korea, sat at the head of the table, his expression calm yet commanding. 

Beside him was Sung Hanbin, his trusted second-in-command, a man who had been raised in the underworld and molded into an enforcer to perform WakeOne’s will. 

Hanbin owed everything to WakeOne. As a teenager, he had lost his parents and younger sister in a brutal incident, one that had left him bleeding out in a cold alley, abandoned by the world. 

It was Bang Yoontea who had found him, half-dead and rage-filled, and given him a choice: succumb to despair or fight for something greater. Bang had taken him in, not just as a recruit but as a son, teaching him how to survive, how to kill, how to command respect in a world that devoured the weak. Over the years, Hanbin had proven his loyalty time and time again, eliminating threats without hesitation and carrying out Bang's will with absolute precision. The WakeOne Group was not just an organisation to him, it was his family, the only thing anchoring him to a purpose.

Across from them, the leader of the Nakwon Syndicate, Choi Seongjun, leaned forward with a smirk, his fingers idly drumming against the lacquered table.

"You're taking this too lightly, Bang," Seongjun muttered, tilting his head slightly. His voice was smooth, but there was an edge of frustration beneath it. "The Zerose Group isn’t just some nuisance. They’re expanding fast. They've taken territories near Itaewon, Hongdae... even reaching towards Incheon. They're not just grabbing land; they're erasing names."

Bang Yoontea exhaled slowly, swirling his drink in his glass. He glanced at Hanbin, who remained silent, his sharp gaze locked onto Seongjun. "So? Let them play their games."

Seongjun scoffed. "This isn’t a game. They have a new leader, a young one, but ruthless. Word is, he doesn’t leave loose ends. He’s got the Chinese underground backing him, and he’s making sure everyone knows it."

Hanbin watched the exchange carefully, studying every flicker of expression on Seongjun’s face. The Nakwon boss wasn’t just warning them, he was pleading. There was fear in his eyes, and in their world, fear was weakness. It meant he was already losing his grip.

"And yet," Bang continued, voice as calm as ever, "you’re here, wasting my time instead of handling it yourself. You expect me to be concerned that some young blood is running wild?"

Seongjun’s jaw tightened. "I'm telling you, it won’t be long before he sets his sights on you. We’ve already lost men. He doesn’t negotiate. He executes. And if he’s coming for us, he’s coming for you next."

Bang Yoontea took a slow sip of his drink and set it down with deliberate precision. His expression remained unchanged, unreadable. "Then let him come."

Back at WakeOne headquarters, Hanbin followed Bang Yoontea into his office, the heavy oak doors shutting behind them with a soft thud. The room was dimly lit, an elegant contrast of mahogany and black leather. A large map of Seoul stretched across the wall, red pins marking their territories, blue ones for their rivals. Several new black pins had been added, Zerose’s growing presence.

Bang Yoontea walked to the bar in the corner, pouring himself another drink before speaking. "What do you think?"

Hanbin didn’t hesitate. "Zerose is a threat, but they haven’t directly challenged us yet. Seongjun is scared, which means he’s already losing control. The question is whether we let them wear each other down or intervene before it reaches us."

Bang smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Clever as always." He took a sip and turned to face Hanbin fully. "We can’t afford to have our operations disrupted. Our territory is our income. We need to keep an eye on Zerose, but I don’t want any direct confrontation. Not yet."

Hanbin nodded. "I can arrange surveillance, gather intel. If they make a move, we’ll know before they do."

Bang studied him for a moment before stepping towards his desk, opening a lacquered box. The air between them shifted as he pulled out a dagger, its handle ornately carved, the blade gleaming even in the dim light. Hanbin recognised it immediately, a family heirloom. A symbol of absolute trust.

Bang held it out. "Use whatever means necessary to protect this family."

Hanbin reached out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt, the weight of the blade familiar in his grip. It wasn’t just a weapon; it was a statement. A reminder of the blood that bound him to WakeOne. He bowed his head slightly, his voice steady. "I won’t fail you."

Bang Yoontea’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "I know you won’t."

 

_____

That night, Hanbin sat at his desk, surrounded by the soft glow of multiple monitors. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, digging through databases, hacking into secure networks, piecing together a picture of the Zerose Group.

Hotels. Clubs. Restaurants. They had their hands in everything. A well-oiled machine that funneled money into their growing empire. One particular hotel caught his attention: The Silver Phoenix. A five-star establishment, known for its exclusivity and discretion.

A few minutes of digging and a backdoor exploit later, he had tapped into their internal email server. One message in particular made his pulse quicken:

From: Hotel Manager (Lee Seonho)
To: [REDACTED]
Subject: Private Meeting Confirmation

Boss Zhang Hao will be attending the meeting tonight in the Orchid Room. Security detail is prepared. No cameras in the suite as per request. Ensure absolute privacy.

Hanbin narrowed his eyes. Zhang Hao . The elusive leader of Zerose. No pictures. No public records. Just whispers and a growing body count. If he was going to be there tonight, this was his chance.

Digging deeper, he accessed a restricted police database, pulling up information on key players within Zerose:

Kim Jiwoong, one of the two second in command, was tall, built like a fighter, with sharp, handsome features. A natural leader, exuding confidence and control. 

Shen Ricky. Striking visuals, sharp jawline, and eyes that could pierce through steel. The other Second in command. Known for his brutal efficiency and unwavering loyalty. 

Seok Matthew. Seemingly harmless, with a boyish face and easy smile. But his reputation was anything but innocent. A predator in disguise. 

Kim Gyuvin. Towering over most, with a strong frame and deceptive agility. Known for his ability to blend into any environment and strike when least expected. 

Park Gunwook. Another giant, but with raw power. His youthful features masked the dangerous instincts of a trained killer. 

Kim Taerae. Small, unassuming, always seen with glasses perched on his nose. The group’s analysist, handling logistics, hacking, and planning from the shadows.

Hanbin leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. This wasn’t just a gang. This was a calculated force, each member a cog in a ruthless machine.

Tonight, he would see their leader for himself. And if necessary… he would act.

Hanbin prepared meticulously. There was no room for error. Every detail had to be flawless. He selected a tailored three-piece suit, deep charcoal, subtly pinstriped, exuding quiet authority. His shoes, polished to a mirror sheen, clicked softly against the floor as he moved. He crafted a perfectly forged ID, down to the microprint, ensuring it would hold up under scrutiny. A contract listing him as a new employee of The Silver Phoenix hotel was carefully faked, bearing just the right amount of wear to appear legitimate. He memorised the layout of the hotel, the employee protocols, the routine of the staff. He left nothing to chance.

Seamlessly slipping into the rhythm of Seoul’s nightlife, he moved through the bustling streets, his posture relaxed but his senses razor-sharp. The city’s neon glow reflected off his suit as he walked, blending into the world of high-end luxury, a man who belonged among the elite.

Upon arrival at The Silver Phoenix, he approached the staff entrance with deliberate confidence. The metal door was discreet, tucked between a loading bay and a row of neatly trimmed hedges. A bored security guard stood outside, flipping through his phone, barely glancing up as Hanbin presented his forged credentials.

"New guy?" the guard muttered, barely interested.

Hanbin nodded, adjusting his tie with a casual ease. "Yeah. Just started."

The guard barely spared him a glance before stepping aside. "Go in."

The door clicked open, and Hanbin stepped inside.

Navigating the back halls of the hotel, Hanbin kept his movements fluid and unhurried. The corridors smelled of industrial cleaner and freshly laundered linens, a stark contrast to the perfumed luxury of the main floors. He kept his phone in hand, its screen dimmed, a silent window into the hotel's security system. Earlier, he had infiltrated their network, tapping into the surveillance feeds. Now, every hallway, every entrance, every movement within the hotel was visible to him in real time. He adjusted his pace accordingly, ensuring he was always a step ahead of prying eyes.

As he approached the Orchid Room, the atmosphere shifted. The scent of expensive cologne and aged whiskey filled the air. High-profile guests mingled in low voices, sipping drinks worth more than some people’s rent. Hanbin remained on the outskirts, careful to avoid drawing attention. His disguise as staff was airtight, he moved like he belonged, blending into the flow of waiters and hotel employees with practiced ease.

Time crawled. Two hours passed, and still, there was no sign of Zerose. Hanbin began to wonder if his intel had been off when suddenly, the energy in the room shifted.

A presence. A ripple through the crowd.

The first to enter was a tall man with jet-black hair, his gaze sharp as a blade. Shen Ricky. Second in command. He moved with precise control, scanning the room with cold calculation before murmuring into his wrist, clearly communicating through a hidden microphone. His very presence altered the atmosphere, a silent warning that something powerful had arrived.

Then came the soldiers: Park Gunwook, Kim Gyuvin, and Seok Matthew. Each exuded confidence, walking with an almost predatory grace. Gunwook, tall and built, his young features a stark contrast, exuded quiet menace. Gyuvin, equally tall but leaner, carried himself with the ease of someone who knew he was untouchable. Matthew, deceptively boyish in appearance, had an underlying edge, his eyes were too sharp, his smirk too knowing. The collective presence of these men sent an unspoken message: power had entered the room.

The murmurs among the guests faded, conversations growing hushed. Even those unfamiliar with the underworld could sense the shift, the weight of something dangerous threading through the air.

Then, Kim Jiwoong stepped through.

Striking, handsome in a way that made people take notice, Jiwoong moved with the elegance of someone accustomed to command. His sharp eyes swept the room, assessing everything with quiet intensity. The way people unconsciously shifted around him spoke volumes. He was a force to be reckoned with.

And then, Hanbin’s breath hitched.

Zhang Hao.

The infamous leader of Zerose entered, and it was as if the very fabric of the room adjusted around him. He didn’t just walk, he commanded the space with effortless grace. His dark brown hair, tinted with hints of red, caught the low light, the soft waves framing his striking features. His lips; full, pouty, and glossed to perfection, parted slightly as he took in the room with wide, doe-like eyes that held a dangerous intelligence beneath their surface.

He wore a pristine white suit, tailored to perfection, the deep V of his neckline exposing sharp collarbones and a hint of sculpted chest. The choice of attire was deliberate; pristine, untainted, untouchable.

Hanbin had expected a monster, a brute, a figure drenched in menace.

Instead, he found himself momentarily disarmed by sheer beauty.

Zhang Hao didn’t need to assert dominance through brutality. His presence alone was enough to bend the room around him.

One of the room’s patrons, a man of considerable wealth and influence, hurried to greet him, bowing slightly before gesturing toward a private booth. Zhang Hao acknowledged him with a slow nod, following the man with unhurried steps, as if he had all the time in the world.

Hanbin’s mind snapped back into focus. He had to get closer. He needed to listen.

Hanbin shifted carefully, stepping into the role of an attentive staff member as he maneuvered closer to the booth. The buzz of conversation swelled around him, but his focus remained razor-sharp. A server passed by carrying a tray of champagne flutes, and Hanbin seized the opportunity, picking up an empty tray to blend in seamlessly.

He approached the booths, slowing his breath as he neared Zhang Hao’s table. From this angle, he could finally hear their conversation.

"Choi Seongjun has bent the knee to us," Shen Ricky murmured, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "The Nakwon Syndicate will follow. He knows better than to fight."

"As expected," Zhang Hao mused, his tone calm, almost bored. "Seongjun understands the inevitable. The others will, too."

Kim Jiwoong leaned forward, his voice quiet but firm. "The WakeOne Group won’t be so easy. They’re still watching us."

"They’re cautious," Ricky added. "Not making a move, but they’re not idle."

Zhang Hao smirked, fingers tapping lazily against the table. "Bang Yoontea is calculating. He won’t act until he’s sure of his advantage. But the moment he sees an opportunity, he’ll take it."

Hanbin’s grip tightened on the tray. They knew WakeOne was watching. But did they suspect more?

"We continue as planned," Zhang Hao concluded, voice smooth. "And when the time comes, WakeOne will fall in line, like all the others."

Hanbin forced himself to remain neutral, his heartbeat steady.

This was bigger than he thought.

Hanbin kept his breathing steady, straining to hear more of the conversation, but the topic had shifted. The tense discussion about WakeOne and Nakwon had faded, giving way to a more relaxed atmosphere. The Zerose members, now sipping on expensive alcohol and leaning back into their seats, had begun to talk amongst themselves.

“Yah, you should’ve seen his face,” Matthew laughed, shaking his head as he recalled some previous incident. “The poor guy was shaking like a leaf. I thought he was going to pass out.”

“Probably because you enjoy scaring people for no reason,” Gyuvin replied, sipping his drink with an air of disinterest. “Not everyone’s built for this kind of life.”

Gunwook smirked, stretching his arms behind his head. “Survival of the fittest, isn’t that what you always say?”

Ricky rolled his eyes, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “You’re all idiots.”

“Oh, come on,” Jiwoong finally spoke, grinning slightly. “Matthew does have a talent for making people squirm. It’s his best skill.” He playfully winked at Matthew.

Zhang Hao was silent through it all, merely watching. His gaze flickered from one member to the next, a small, almost amused smile tugging at his lips as his men bantered. He looked relaxed, at ease with them, so human. Hanbin had expected something else. Ruthlessness. Cold detachment. But Zhang Hao was simply… watching. Enjoying their presence.

Hanbin found himself staring, captivated by the way the dim lighting caught on the red undertones of Zhang Hao’s hair, how his smile softened his sharp features, how utterly breathtaking he was when he wasn’t doing anything at all.

For a moment, Hanbin forgot why he was there.

A chill ran down his spine. Something felt off. He blinked.

Zhang Hao was looking directly at him.

Hanbin’s stomach dropped. His breath caught in his throat, every muscle in his body going taut. The moment their eyes met, he felt a wave of cold panic settle in his gut. How long had Zhang Hao been watching him? Did he know?

Hanbin forced himself to remain calm, gripping the tray tightly to ground himself, but it was too late.

Jiwoong moved like a shadow, suddenly at his side, eyes sharp and assessing. “Can I help you?” The words were polite, but the undertone was clear. Who are you? Why are you here?

Hanbin’s throat felt dry. His mind scrambled for an excuse, but before he could stammer out a response, Zhang Hao raised a hand.

“It’s okay,” Zhang Hao said smoothly, his voice gentle but firm. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Hanbin swallowed hard. His mind raced. Did they know? Did they suspect? The weight of the Zerose member’s gaze burned into him, but none more than Zhang Hao’s. There was something in his expression, a knowing glint in his wide, dark eyes, the curve of his lips as if he were already amused by Hanbin’s panic.

“Ah… I…” Hanbin started, but his words failed him.

Zhang Hao stood up.

Hanbin had seen him from a distance, admired his beauty in the dim lights of the booth, but up close, it was overwhelming. The pristine white suit, the way it clung to his frame, the effortless grace in which he moved. Hanbin had never been one to be easily fazed, but this… this was something else entirely.

Zhang Hao smiled, tilting his head slightly. “You’re staring,” he said, voice lilting with amusement.

Hanbin’s ears burned. He struggled to form a coherent thought, but Zhang Hao took a step closer, invading his space.

“I must say,” Zhang Hao continued, his voice dropping into something almost intimate, “it’s not so often we get such… dedicated service.”

Hanbin knew he needed to move, to break away, to do something, but he was frozen, trapped in the pull of Zhang Hao’s presence. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He was pathetic. So, so pathetic for a pretty face.

Then Zhang Hao smirked and winked at him.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted, heat creeping up his neck before he could stop it.

“Drink?” Zhang Hao offered, holding out a freshly poured glass of whiskey.

Hanbin hesitated. He shouldn’t. He knew better. But Zhang Hao’s eyes stayed on him, unwavering, expectant. He reached out, fingers brushing against Zhang Hao’s as he took the glass. It was warm where their skin met.

He felt foolish for how much he liked that.

The room suddenly felt quieter. That’s when he noticed it, the way the other Zerose members had gone still, their eyes locked onto him. Ricky, Matthew, Jiwoong, all watching. Observing. Assessing.

Something was wrong.

Hanbin tried to step back, but the moment he did, his vision swayed. The floor beneath him felt unsteady, his fingers suddenly weak around the glass. A sluggish realisation crept through his mind, something was happening to him. His pulse roared in his ears as his knees buckled slightly.

A breath against his ear.

“Let’s have some fun, Sung Hanbin,” Zhang Hao whispered.

Hanbin’s mind screamed, but his body was already failing him, his vision blurring at the edges.

Then, darkness.

_____

A groan slipped from Hanbin’s lips as consciousness crept back in. His head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache pulsing behind his eyes. He tried to move, only to feel the biting resistance of thick rope digging into his wrists and torso. Panic shot through him as he jerked against the restraints, but the bindings held firm.

His breath came out in a frustrated hiss. Tied to a chair. His suit was ruined, the once-pristine fabric now crumpled and stained. His shirt hung open, exposing his chest to the cold air of the dimly lit room. Irritation burned through him as he yanked at the ropes again, his muscles straining, but it was no use.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice hoarse. Then, louder, “Fuck!”

The room was nearly pitch black, save for a small, dirty window high on the far wall, where the last slivers of daylight cast dull streaks across the cold concrete floor. Judging by the angle, he was underground, most likely a basement.

Just as he was about to test his restraints again, the heavy metal door creaked open. Footsteps echoed against the stone walls before two figures emerged from the darkness.

Shen Ricky. Cold, composed, and unreadable.

Kim Taerae. Smaller, glasses perched on his nose, an iPad clutched in his hands.

Hanbin clenched his jaw as Taerae stepped forward, silently turning the tablet toward him. The screen flickered to life, displaying a high-resolution image.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted.

It was a picture of him with Bang Yoontea.

Not just any picture, one taken recently, within the past few weeks. They stood together outside the WakeOne headquarters, speaking in low voices. Hanbin’s face was sharp in the frame, his expression serious. Beside him, Bang was half-turned away, but still clearly identifiable.

“We know exactly who you are,” Ricky said smoothly, breaking the silence. His voice carried no urgency, no anger, just the chilling certainty of a man who had already won. “Sung Hanbin. Twenty-six. Right-hand man to Bang Yoontea of the WakeOne Group.”

Hanbin stayed silent, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Ricky tilted his head, his sharp eyes scanning Hanbin’s face. “If you want to leave in one piece, you’ll tell us everything about WakeOne. What you were doing at the hotel. What you’re planning.”

Hanbin exhaled slowly, willing his heart rate to steady. His pride burned at how easily he had been caught. He should have known better. Should have been more careful.

He forced a smirk, leaning back slightly against the chair despite the discomfort. “You think I’d talk that easily?”

Ricky sighed, exchanging a glance with Taerae, who remained expressionless. “No,” he admitted. “But you will. Eventually.”

Hanbin didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. They both knew he wasn’t going to break, not now, not easily.

Ricky studied him for a few more seconds before scoffing softly. “Let him sit.”

With that, they turned and left, the door slamming shut behind them, plunging the room into silence once more.

Hanbin breathed out harshly, tension thrumming through his limbs. He flexed his fingers, testing the ropes again. Still tight. His skin burned where they had rubbed raw against his wrists.

His eyes flickered down, taking in the mess of his disheveled suit. His shirt was open, his tie long gone. His head was still foggy from whatever they had drugged him with, but his body was beginning to regain its strength.

And then, a flicker of hope.

His dagger.

It was still there, strapped to his ankle. They hadn’t checked him thoroughly.

Hanbin exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm. Slowly, carefully, he shifted in the chair, maneuvering his leg over his other in an attempt to reach it with his mouth. The angle was awkward, his muscles screaming in protest, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward—

Only to come up short.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, frustration mounting. He wasn’t flexible enough to grab it with his teeth.

He forced himself to still, listening intently. From the small window above, he could hear the faint sounds of cars, the occasional murmur of voices.

Time passed slowly. The sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows against the walls. The room grew darker, swallowing him whole.

Hanbin tugged at his restraints again. Still nothing.

His body ached, exhaustion creeping into his bones. He needed to conserve his energy. There was no telling how long they’d leave him here, how long before they tried again.

With a slow breath, he forced his body to relax. He needed to be sharp when the time came. He needed to escape. To get back to WakeOne. To warn Bang Yoontea.

His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing steadying.

For now, he would wait.

A sharp chill roused Hanbin from the light, uneasy sleep he had fallen into. His body tensed as the cold air bit at his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once clung to him.

His eyes snapped open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

A lamp now burned in the corner of the room, its harsh glow illuminating the bleak concrete walls. But it wasn’t just the light that made his breath hitch.

He was nearly naked.

His suit, his shirt, everything but his boxers were gone.

His pulse hammered against his ribs as he took stock of his situation. He was still bound to the chair, but now he was completely exposed, vulnerable in a way that made his blood boil with anger.

Then, his gaze locked onto the figure seated before him.

Zhang Hao.

The leader of Zerose sat backwards on a chair, his arms draped lazily over the backrest. He was watching Hanbin with a look of amusement, dark eyes glinting under the artificial light.

And in his fingers, spinning carelessly between them, was Hanbin’s dagger.

Rage surged through Hanbin’s veins. “Give that back.”

Zhang Hao’s lips curved into a smirk, an infuriatingly pretty expression for someone so dangerous. He tilted his head, running his thumb along the blade’s edge as if testing its sharpness. “This?” he mused. “A gift from Bang Yoontea, I assume? How long have you been his loyal little lapdog?”

Hanbin clenched his jaw. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Zhang Hao chuckled, the sound light, almost delighted, as if Hanbin’s defiance genuinely entertained him. He stood, stretching slightly, before sauntering toward Hanbin with unhurried steps.

He was dressed differently now, black jeans hugging his frame, a delicate white blouse draping over his shoulders. He looked almost innocent. Almost. But Hanbin knew better. There was nothing innocent about Zhang Hao.

The soft fabric of his blouse shifted as he leaned forward, his presence suffocating as he trailed the cool edge of the dagger down Hanbin’s bare chest. The blade traced along the inked lines of the tattoos sprawled over his collarbones, slow and deliberate.

Hanbin’s breath hitched involuntarily, but he refused to flinch.

Zhang Hao hummed in approval. “Impressive,” he murmured. “Most people would be trembling by now.”

Hanbin glared up at him, forcing his breathing to steady. He knew what this was, Zhang Hao was testing him, toying with him, trying to unravel him piece by piece.

Zhang Hao’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he continued. “You’re strong. I like that. But strength only lasts so long.” He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to Hanbin’s ear. “Soon enough, you’ll be singing for me. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

Hanbin forced himself to remain still, even as a shiver ran down his spine. He knew that tone, the promise laced within it. Zhang Hao was a man who got what he wanted.

And right now, he wanted Hanbin to break.

Then, just as suddenly as he had approached, Zhang Hao pulled back. With an elegant flick of his wrist, he placed the dagger onto the chair he had previously occupied. A silent taunt.

Hanbin’s fists clenched as Zhang Hao turned toward the door, his confidence unshaken, his back exposed as if he knew Hanbin couldn’t do anything about it.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence settled over the room, thick and suffocating. Hanbin exhaled, his chest rising and falling heavily. He hadn’t even realised he’d been holding his breath.

Zhang Hao was overwhelming. Too much. Too close. Too beautiful for someone so cruel.

Hanbin let his head fall back against the chair, his mind already racing for his next move.

He had to get out of here, before Zhang Hao truly made him break.

_____

 

Over the next few hours, Hanbin kept trying to free himself. His wrists burned from the friction of the rope, his muscles ached, but he refused to stop. Every few minutes, he shifted, twisted, testing the bindings for any weakness. He had to get out.

Then the door creaked open again.

Hanbin immediately stilled, his body tense, ready for another encounter with Ricky, Taerae, or worse; Zhang Hao. But when he looked up, it wasn’t any of them.

Seok Matthew stood in the doorway.

The soldier carried a bottle of water in one hand and a steaming bowl of instant ramen in the other. His usual playful smirk was absent, replaced with something calmer, almost indifferent.

Matthew kicked the door shut behind him and strode over. “Eat.”

Hanbin scoffed, glaring at the food like it was poison. “Not hungry.”

Matthew sighed, crouching slightly so they were at eye level. “Suit yourself. But at least drink something.” He shook the water bottle in front of Hanbin, the liquid sloshing against the plastic.

Hanbin narrowed his eyes. “It’s probably drugged.”

Matthew scoffed. Without hesitation, he unscrewed the cap and took a long sip. Then he held the bottle up, arching a brow. “Satisfied?”

Hanbin hesitated but eventually parted his lips. Matthew tipped the bottle, letting him drink. The water was cool, refreshing against his dry throat.

Lowering the bottle, Hanbin exhaled. “Why are you doing this?”

Matthew sat back on his heels, stirring the ramen with chopsticks. “Because you need to keep your strength.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hanbin muttered. “Why are you keeping me here? Why go through all this trouble?”

Matthew’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Because WakeOne isn’t what you think it is.”

Hanbin’s jaw tightened. “Don’t.”

Matthew tilted his head. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to turn me against my family.”

Matthew sighed through his nose, looking almost disappointed. But he didn’t argue. Instead, he lifted a bite of noodles to Hanbin’s lips. “Eat.”

Hanbin clenched his fists but reluctantly accepted the food. He hated how weak he felt, how dependent he was on an enemy to keep him from starving. The warm broth slid down his throat, filling the emptiness in his stomach. They sat in silence as Matthew fed him, not speaking again until the bowl was empty.

When Matthew stood, gathering the empty bowl and water bottle, Hanbin spoke. “Thank you.” Matthew blinked, startled. Hanbin met his gaze, eyes sharp. “I’ll remember your kindness when I’m free.”

Matthew let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Sung Hanbin-ssi.” He walked out, locking the door behind him.

Alone again, Hanbin’s gaze settled on the dagger still resting on the chair across from him.

He forced himself to stay awake, but exhaustion clawed at his senses. His body betrayed him, muscles growing heavy, eyes falling shut despite his struggle to stay alert. He would get out of here. He had to.

 

_____

 

Hanbin woke up to an unfamiliar sensation. He was suddenly well aware of the fact he was still tied to the chair with the ropes, only this time he was naked. His ass was against the cold material of the chair and he could feel a sheen of sweat on his body. 

Hanbin gasped. His cock was throbbing, his eyes blinked in panic as he looked down and saw a buzzing cock ring tightly wrapped around its base. He struggled against his restraints but the movement only made his thighs tremble with pleasure. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, sharp features and piercing eyes. Zhang Hao. The Zerose leader was dressed in a loose shirt and baby blue slacks, he looked eerily innocent. 

Zhang Hao smirked playfully as he held a remote control in his hand almost threateningly. "Good morning," Zhang Hao purred, his voice a low, sultry whisper. "I trust you're comfortable?"

Hanbin tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. The vibrations from the cock ring were intense, overwhelming his senses. He could feel his cock pulsing, the pleasure building with every passing second.

Zhang Hao took a step closer, his gaze raking over Hanbin’s strong trembling body. “You're a handsome man, Sung Hanbin,” he said, his voice laced with a seductive edge. “And your cock... it's magnificent.” He reached out, trailing a finger along Hanbin’s thigh, making him jump slightly. “But I need information, and you're going to give it to me.”

Hanbin gritted his teeth, trying to focus. Zhang Hao’s touch was intoxicating, the vibrations from the cock ring driving him to the brink of insanity. He could feel his body betraying him, his cock growing impossibly harder.

“Tell me what I want to know,” Zhang Hao coaxed, his voice a low pretty purr. “And I'll make it worth your while.” He pressed a button on the remote, and the vibrations intensified. 

Hanbin let out a gasp, his body arching against the ropes. He bit his bottom lip, holding back the deep moan. He didn't want to give Zhang Hao the pleasure of knowing just how good his cock was feeling right now. 

“Not yet,” Zhang Hao whispered, his voice a taunting melody. “You'll come when I tell you to.” He stepped back, his eyes never leaving Hanbin’s face. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”

“N-never.” Hanbin growled. 

Zhang Hao licked his lips and sighed, he flicked the remote again. 

Hanbin couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The pleasure was too much, his body writhing against the ropes, desperate for release. Zhang Hao watched him, his expression one of pure, unadulterated desire.

“Tell me,” Zhang Hao demanded, his voice a low growl. “Or I'll make you come again, and again, until you can't take it anymore.”

Hanbin let out a ragged moan, his body tensing as the pleasure became too much to bear. Zhang Hao pressed the button again, and Hanbin’s body convulsed, his cock throbbing as he came dry, the pleasure too intense to handle.

Zhang Hao smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That's just the beginning,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I'm not done with you yet.”

Hanbin panted, his body still trembling from the force of his dry orgasm. 

Zhang Hao stepped closer, his hand trailing down Hanbin’s strong chest, his fingers teasing his nipples. “Why were you watching me?” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive purr. “What does WakeOne want?”

Hanbin bit his lip, he shook his head, refusing to talk. Zhang Hao’s control was driving him crazy, the vibrations from the cock ring making it impossible to think. He could feel his body responding to Zhang Hao’s touch, his cock hard and weeping. 

“Tell me,” Zhang Hao demanded, his voice a low growl. 

Hanbin shook his head, he wouldn’t betray WakeOne. He gasped heavily as his body tensed, Zhang Hao pressed the button again. The pleasure was overwhelming, his body convulsing as he crashed through another dry orgasm.

Zhang Hao smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That's two,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Hanbin panted, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasms. “F-fuck you,” he growled angrily. His face was flushed and he had sweat running down his body. 

Zhang Hao smirked, he stepped closer and wrapped his fingers around Hanbin’s hair. Pulling on the strands and forcing Hanbin’s head back. “Not today, baobei , you have to give me something first.”

Hanbin swallowed thickly, the words making his thoughts go wild, the thought of having the chance to actually fuck someone as beautifully untouchable as Zhang Hao. He quickly shook his head. Hanbin found himself unable to look away from Zhang Hao’s sparkling eyes. He clenched his jaw. “Y-you will fall.” Hanbin threatened, he wouldn’t reveal anything. 

The leader only chuckled in response, the threat not doing anything. Hanbin yelped as the hand that was in his hair now reached down and grabbed his cock. Zhang Hao stroked from root to tip, playing with the pre-come at the top and making his hand sticky. “Your cock is massive, it's dripping,” Zhang Hao purred.

Hanbin let out a ragged moan, his body arching against the ropes. Zhang Hao’s touch was driving him crazy, the vibrations from the cock ring making it impossible to think. 

“Tell me,” Zhang Hao demanded.

Hanbin shook his head, his body tensing as Zhang Hao pressed the button again. The pleasure was too much, Zhang Hao smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. 

Hanbin could feel the pleasure building, the cock ring intensifying every sensation. “I-I need… I n-need to come,” he gasped, his body tensing. 

Zhang Hao grinned, his hand moving faster as he stroked Hanbin from root to tip, his hand covered in pre-come. “Not yet,” he teased. “Not until I say so.”

Hanbin struggled, his body on the edge of orgasm. Zhang Hao could see the strain in his face, the way his muscles tensed. 

“I can't take it anymore.” Hanbin’s voice was hoarse, drool falling down his chin. 

Zhang Hao leaned down, his lips brushing against Hanbin’s ear. “Beg for it,” he demanded.

Hanbin growled, he couldn’t help himself, his body was strung out, like a string pulled too tight. He needed release and he knew that he’d have to show weakness for it to happen. “Please,” Hanbin gasped, his body shaking. “Let me come. I need to come so bad.”

Zhang Hao smiled, his hand reaching down to the cock ring. He slipped it off, fingers wrapping around Hanbin’s heavy cock again. Hanbin cried out, his body convulsing as he finally found release. He felt it all the way down to his toes, every fibre of his body on edge from his orgasm. His stomach, chest and Zhang Hao’s fingers were absolutely covered in his come. 

Zhang Hao continued stroking his overstimulated cock gently, his eyes locked onto his. “Pathetic, aren’t you?” Hanbin watched with wide eyes as Zhang Hao brought his hand away from Hanbin’s cock and towards his lips. Zhang Hao licked the come from his fingers making Hanbin’s cock twitch. 

Hanbin couldn’t help but nod, his body spent.

Zhang Hao chuckled as Hanbin’s eyes began to flutter, he heard the sound of the door closing as the leader made his way out of the room. Leaving Hanbin there, covered in his own mess. Hanbin knew he would never forget this. 

 

_____

 

The pounding in Hanbin’s head was unbearable. His body ached with exhaustion, his mind clouded with a whirlwind of emotions; anger, shame, humiliation. He had allowed himself to succumb to Zhang Hao’s control, to pleasure, to something he could never forgive himself for.

Shame burned through him like acid, but that feeling was quickly replaced by shock as he registered his situation. The restraints were gone.

Hanbin flexed his wrists, feeling the sore skin where the ropes had dug in. He was still naked, and embarrassingly still sticky, but his clothes were folded neatly on the chair Zhang Hao had occupied. The absurdity of the gesture made his rage flare even more. As if Zhang Hao had taken what he wanted and now, Hanbin was free to leave. Like a discarded toy.

Grinding his teeth, he stood on shaky legs, pulling on his trousers with no care for the rest. His focus was on only one thing, the dagger. His fingers curled around the cool hilt, its weight grounding him. He needed to escape, return to WakeOne, warn Bang Yoontea.

The door was unlocked.

Hanbin froze, muscles tensing. It was too easy.

Stepping cautiously into the dimly lit corridor, he listened. Only silence greeted him. The air was cold, the only illumination coming from scattered wall lamps. He moved quickly, his bare feet making no sound against the smooth floor. His memory of Zerose’s layout was limited, but from his research, he knew he was inside the Zerose Mansion, located just outside Seoul. 

Well-guarded. Dangerous.

At the end of the hallway, he spotted stairs leading upward. He took them two at a time, muscles screaming in protest. Bursting through the door at the top, he barely had a second to react before voices approached.

Guards.

With swift precision, Hanbin used his dagger, silencing them before their bodies hit the floor. He had no time for hesitation, no space for guilt. He had one mission, escape.

As he navigated the corridors, his ears picked up a familiar voice. Zhang Hao.

Hanbin pressed himself against the wall outside the room, listening intently.

“You’re being too lenient, Sajangnim,” Jiwoong’s voice came first, sharp, laced with mild irritation. “We should’ve just killed him.”

“Hm,” Zhang Hao hummed, clearly unbothered. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Shen Ricky scoffed. “Fun? He’s WakeOne’s right hand, and you’re letting him wander around half-naked in our basement?”

There was a chuckle from Zhang Hao. “Didn’t he look beautiful like that?”

Hanbin’s jaw clenched, fingers gripping the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. His rage simmered, threatening to explode, but he forced himself to focus.

Another set of footsteps approached. Hanbin quickly ducked into a nearby alcove, peering cautiously.

Gyuvin and Gunwook. And between them, his arms restrained, was Choi Seongjun.

Hanbin’s blood ran cold. He watched as they pushed the man inside the room. Seongjun looked terrified, his once pristine suit disheveled, his face damp with sweat.

Zhang Hao’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Now, tell me again, Seongjun-ah. How much money does WakeOne actually pull from their docks?”

Seongjun stuttered, his voice trembling. “A-Around fourteen million won a month.”

Ricky whistled lowly. “Impressive.”

“And the routes?” Zhang Hao pressed, leaning forward lazily, like this was nothing more than idle conversation over tea. “Which ones do they control?”

Seongjun gulped, his hands shaking. “They have exclusive control over Incheon’s west docks. No other group can access it without Bang Yoontea’s approval.”

Hanbin’s breath caught. Seongjun was selling them out. The anger that surged through Hanbin was uncontrollable. His vision turned red, his feet moving before he could think.

“You pathetic little snake!” Hanbin bellowed, storming into the room.

All eyes snapped to him.

Before anyone could react, Hanbin grabbed Seongjun by the collar and slammed him against the wall, dagger pressed to his throat. The man’s eyes widened in sheer terror.

“H-Hanbin—?”

“Shut up!” Hanbin snarled, pressing the blade deeper, a thin trickle of blood forming. “You sold us out?”

Zhang Hao, lounging back in his seat, smirked. “Oh, he told us everything. The docks, the money, the shipments. Even where Bang Yoontea sleeps.”

Hanbin’s grip on the dagger trembled.

Seongjun whimpered. “Hanbin, please—”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat right now.” Hanbin demanded.

Zhang Hao leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand, watching with entertained eyes. “Go on,” he murmured. “Do it.”

Seongjun sobbed, shaking violently. “I-I had no choice, they would have killed me!”

Hanbin’s rage reached its boiling point. Without another word, he plunged the dagger into Seongjun’s throat.

The room fell into silence.

Blood gurgled from Seongjun’s mouth as he choked, his body twitching before finally going limp. Hanbin let the body drop to the floor unceremoniously. His breathing was ragged, his pulse pounding.

Zhang Hao chuckled.

Hanbin turned, dagger raised, eyes wild with fury.

Zhang Hao stood up slowly. “Your loyalty is admirable.”

Hanbin took a step forward, pressing the dagger to Zhang Hao’s throat. The leader didn’t even blink.

A click echoed through the room.

Hanbin barely had time to process before he noticed the guns aimed at him. Jiwoong, Ricky, and Gunwook all had their weapons trained on him.

Zhang Hao sighed, kicking Seongjun’s body aside with his foot. “You saved me the trouble, Hanbin-ah. Now, I don’t need your secrets.”

“Then let me go.”

Zhang Hao tilted his head, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh no, I have a much better use for you.”

Before Hanbin could react, Jiwoong moved. A sharp, unforgiving pain exploded in his head as the butt of a gun struck his temple. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. The last thing he saw was Zhang Hao kneeling before him, gripping his hair, whispering into his ear.

“Sleep tight, my beautiful BingBing.”

Then everything went black.

_____

Hanbin woke up groggily, his head pounding as he tried to piece together his surroundings. His eyes widened when he realised he was lying on a bed, stripped down to a clean pair of boxers. The unfamiliar sensation of weight around his ankle made his breath hitch, and he sat up quickly, his hand reaching down. Cold metal greeted his fingers.

He was chained.

A thick, silver chain secured his ankle to the bedpost, long enough for him to move around a portion of the room but not enough to reach the exit. Panic flared in his chest as he tugged at the restraint, testing its strength. It held firm.

Hanbin exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the room. It was large, luxurious even. A four-poster bed, deep burgundy drapes, dark mahogany furniture. A large window let in the golden hues of the setting sun, leading out to a balcony. Hanbin stood, carefully testing the chain’s length, only to growl in frustration when he realised he could reach the window but not step outside.

"Damn it," he muttered, slamming his fist against the glass.

A knock on the door startled him. Hanbin remained silent, his body tensing. The door creaked open, and Seok Matthew stepped in, holding a tray of food.

"Oh, you're awake," Matthew said cheerfully. "I brought you dinner."

Hanbin crossed his arms. "What the hell is going on? Let me out."

Matthew sighed, setting the tray down on a nearby table. "Relax. You should consider yourself lucky, Zhang Hao is... well, let’s just say he’s infatuated with you."

Hanbin’s face flushed, heat creeping up his neck. "Infatuated? What the fuck does that mean?" His voice rose in irritation. "I'm not some pet! Let me go!"

Matthew scoffed. "You should be grateful. Normally, other rival group members would’ve been killed on sight. You're alive because he wants you alive."

Hanbin glared at him. "I'd rather be killed than be some weird sex slave."

Matthew choked on air. "God, don’t say shit like that. That’s not—" He shook his head, clearly exasperated. "Just eat. It’s not poisoned."

Hanbin eyed the food suspiciously, but he couldn’t deny how good it looked, steamed rice, grilled meat, vegetables, and soup. His stomach betrayed him with a low growl. He scowled, grabbing the spoon.

Matthew smirked. "See? You’ll need your strength."

Hanbin paused mid-bite. "For what?"

Matthew’s phone rang before he could answer. He glanced at the screen and frowned. "I’ve got a mission. Gotta go."

Hanbin narrowed his eyes. "What mission? Where is everyone?"

Matthew ignored his question, heading for the door. "Just lay low, Hanbin-ssi. Do what you’re told. That’s how you stay alive."

The door slammed shut, locking him in.

Hanbin exhaled heavily, staring out the window. The sky darkened, stars blinking to life over the horizon. The mansion was eerily quiet. He expected Zhang Hao to show up, to torment him further, but the night passed in silence.

For hours, he listened. Voices murmured in the distance, the occasional footsteps passing by, but no one came for him. The loneliness was unsettling. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried. By the time the sun began to rise, exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless sleep.

_____

The sharp sound of raised voices jolted Hanbin awake. He had been lying on the large bed, his wrist draped over his eyes, trying to ignore the growing ache in his body from the days spent in captivity. But now, his instincts sharpened.

The door swung open, revealing Taerae and Gyuvin.

The smaller man looked flustered, his glasses slightly askew as he clutched an iPad to his chest, striding into the room with no hesitation. Hanbin noted the way his eyes flickered between him and the screen, calculating.

Gyuvin, however, lingered near the door, his arms crossed, an irritated scowl on his face. "This is a waste of time," he muttered.

Taerae ignored him, coming to a stop beside the bed. "How did you do it?" he asked, holding up the iPad.

Hanbin arched a brow, feigning ignorance. "Do what?"

"Our system," Taerae snapped, clearly not in the mood for games. "You tapped into our cameras, got into private emails. What programming did you use?"

Hanbin scoffed, leaning back on his elbows. "And why would I tell you that?"

Taerae clenched his jaw in frustration, but before he could speak, Gyuvin cut in. "There’s no point, Taerae-hyung. He’s not gonna talk."

Hanbin’s mind was already working a mile a minute. If he could get his hands on the iPad, he might be able to send a message to WakeOne. A warning. A location. Anything.

A plan formed instantly.

"Fine," Hanbin said, surprising them both. He sat up straighter, looking at Taerae. "I’ll help you. But I want something in return."

Taerae narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

Hanbin exhaled, trying to appear nonchalant. "I want to go outside. The garden."

Gyuvin let out an incredulous laugh. "You’re literally in your boxers."

Hanbin shot him a glare. "Obviously, I’d like some pants first. But I just want some fresh air."

Gyuvin frowned, exchanging a glance with Taerae. The analyst hesitated before shrugging. "I don’t see why not. Hao-hyung didn’t say he had to stay locked up."

Gyuvin exhaled through his nose. "Fine."

"Then give me the iPad," Hanbin said smoothly.

Taerae hesitated but, after a moment, handed it over.

The second the device was in his hands, Hanbin struck. With practiced precision, he yanked on the chain around his ankle, twisting it around Taerae’s smaller frame in a split-second maneuver. The analyst yelped in shock as he was pulled off balance. 

Gyuvin reacted instantly, drawing his gun and aiming it at Hanbin. "Let him go!" he barked.

Hanbin ignored him, his free hand flying across the screen. He typed out a quick, desperate message to WakeOne—

Captured. Zerose Mansion. Outside Seoul. Be ready.

Before he could hit send, Taerae slammed his elbow into Hanbin’s ribs. A sharp pain exploded through him, the iPad slipping from his grip as Taerae wrenched free.

"You son of a—!" Gyuvin snarled, yanking Taerae back behind him and pressing the gun’s barrel against Hanbin’s forehead.

Hanbin only smirked, breathing heavily as he locked eyes with Gyuvin. "Close one, huh?"

The tense standoff was broken by the sound of footsteps, Jiwoong appeared in the doorway, his expression cold and assessing. His sharp eyes took in the situation immediately. "What the hell happened?" Jiwoong demanded.

"He tried to send a message to WakeOne," Taerae muttered, rubbing his arm as he adjusted his glasses. "I stopped him before it went through."

Jiwoong sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Idiot," he muttered, shaking his head before leveling Hanbin with a piercing stare. "You just made things worse for yourself."

The door slammed behind them as they left, locking Hanbin inside once again. Hanbin exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm. His fingers curled around the thick metal chain locked around his ankle, yanking hard. Nothing. It didn't budge.

His frustration mounted as he tried again, pressing his foot against the bed frame to gain some leverage. The metal bit into his skin, cold and unyielding, a mocking reminder of his captivity.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, slumping back against the mattress.

Outside, the sky was turning dark, deep purples and oranges melting into black. The mansion was eerily quiet, the only sound his own measured breathing.

Then the door opened.

Hanbin sighed, already expecting Matthew or Jiwoong, but his breath caught in his throat the moment he looked up.

Zhang Hao stood in the doorway.

Dressed in all black, the fabric of his tailored outfit hugged his figure in all the right ways. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if someone had run their fingers through it, and his lips—his pouty, soft lips—were coated in a glossy sheen. Dark liner smudged around his piercing eyes, making him look even more ethereal than usual.

Hanbin swallowed thickly, forcing himself to ignore how unfairly beautiful the man looked.

Zhang Hao took a step into the room, his gaze sweeping lazily over Hanbin’s form. "I heard what you did earlier," he said, voice smooth and lilting.

Hanbin tensed, his jaw clenching. "And?"

Zhang Hao hummed, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I told you to behave, Hanbin-ah. But instead, you cause mischief in my home."

Hanbin scoffed, irritation bubbling beneath his skin. "What do you expect? You chain me up like some pet and expect me to sit pretty?"

Zhang Hao tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk. "If I wanted a pet, I would’ve picked someone far more obedient."

Hanbin opened his mouth to snap back, but the words caught in his throat when he noticed Zhang Hao’s gaze slowly raking over him. The leader’s dark eyes dragged over his bare chest, his exposed arms, the way the sheets pooled around his hips.

Zhang Hao sighed, shaking his head with a soft pretty pout. "Such a shame," he murmured.

Hanbin narrowed his eyes. "What is?"

Zhang Hao’s smirk widened. "That I have somewhere to be tonight."

Jealousy flared in Hanbin’s chest before he could stop it. His fingers clenched around the duvet as he sat up straighter. "Where?"

Zhang Hao chuckled, clearly entertained. "Out, to have fun."

Hanbin’s jaw tightened. He hated how his stomach twisted, how his body reacted so instinctively to Zhang Hao’s words. The thought of him out somewhere, dressed like this, entertaining someone else—

"With who?" Hanbin blurted out before he could stop himself.

Zhang Hao’s smirk deepened.

Instead of answering, he turned toward the large mirror in the room. Hanbin watched, helplessly entranced, as Zhang Hao pulled out a small tube of gloss from his pocket, uncapping it with ease. He leaned in slightly, applying another thin coat to his already perfect lips, the light catching the wet shine.

Then, as if knowing exactly what he was doing, he puckered his lips and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the mirror’s surface.

A sticky, faintly pink mark was left behind.

Hanbin swallowed hard. His fingers twitched, and before he even realised what he was doing, he yanked the duvet over his lap, suddenly hyper-aware of his body’s reaction.

Zhang Hao turned slightly, catching Hanbin’s movement in the reflection. He chuckled, his eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

"Only good boys get rewarded," he murmured, his voice dripping with teasing promise. Then, without another word, he walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Hanbin let out a sharp breath, his body tense, his mind a complete mess.

"Fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. 

This was getting dangerous.

_____

Hanbin was restless.

He had spent days in this damned room, listening, waiting, watching. The Zerose members were growing more cautious, their voices clipped, their footsteps sharper. The tension in the mansion had shifted. Something was happening, but Hanbin was still trapped, his movements restricted by the chain at his ankle.

So he kept himself busy, tracking the guards' rotations, memorising their shifts, and testing the limits of the chain’s reach. He kept his body strong, forcing himself through endless push-ups, sweat dripping onto the hardwood floor as he focused on anything but the frustration burning inside him.

Then, the door opened.

Hanbin immediately stilled, remaining in his push-up position as his eyes snapped toward the entrance, seeing well polished shoes. It was early evening, no one ever came at this time. The door closed softly.

Hanbin pushed himself up onto his feet, muscles still tense as he turned. His breath hitched before he could stop it.

Zhang Hao.

Dressed casually. Too casually. A loose white sweater draped over his shoulders, soft and delicate, paired with simple black pants. He looked innocent, almost out of place in the dark, dangerous world they lived in. But Hanbin knew better. Beneath that soft exterior, Zhang Hao was nothing but a wolf in silk clothing.

And right now, that wolf was watching him.

Hanbin clenched his jaw as Zhang Hao's gaze swept over his bare torso, lingering on the flex of his arms and the ink on his collarbones. His eyes sparkled, lips curling slightly, like he was enjoying the view.

"What do you want?" Hanbin demanded, voice low, irritated.

Zhang Hao hummed, stepping further into the room with slow, deliberate movements. "You’ve been very well-behaved lately, Hanbin-ah. I’m impressed."

Hanbin scoffed. "What? Were you expecting me to beg?"

Zhang Hao’s lips twitched into a smirk. "No. But I was expecting more of a fight."

Hanbin rolled his shoulders, refusing to let the other man’s words get under his skin. Zhang Hao was playing with him, as he always did; testing, taunting.

Then, Zhang Hao moved closer.

His fingers, light and teasing, brushed over Hanbin’s arm. Slowly. Tracing the hard lines of muscle, the tattoo on the inside, the veins beneath his skin. The touch was featherlight, barely there, yet it set something ablaze inside Hanbin.

Hanbin remained still for a moment, his breath measured, his heart betraying him with its increasing pace. Zhang Hao’s gaze lifted to his, heavy with something unreadable, something dangerous.

Enough. Hanbin’s body moved on instinct.

With one swift motion, his hands shot out, wrapping around Zhang Hao’s throat. The leader gasped, eyes widening as Hanbin pushed him backward, forcing him down onto the bed. Hanbin climbed on top of him, pinning him with his weight, his grip tight but controlled around Zhang Hao’s throat.

Zhang Hao didn’t fight. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he smiled.

Hanbin frowned, his grip faltering for just a second. Zhang Hao was staring up at him, eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down Hanbin’s spine.

"Are you going to kill me, Hanbin-ah?" Zhang Hao’s voice was smooth as silk, teasing, challenging.

Hanbin didn’t answer. He should. He should snap his neck right now, rid himself of this torment. But Zhang Hao… Zhang Hao had a way of making him hesitate.

Zhang Hao tilted his head slightly, lips parting just enough to whisper, “Or are you just trying to tame me?”

Hanbin growled low in his throat, frustration and something far more dangerous boiling inside him. He didn’t think. He leaned down and crushed his lips against Zhang Hao’s.

The smirk disappeared. Zhang Hao melted into him instantly, his body pliant beneath Hanbin’s, his hands gripping at his bare shoulders. The kiss was heated, desperate, a battle of wills where neither wanted to surrender.

But Hanbin wasn’t playing Zhang Hao’s game. Or so he thought.

Zhang Hao pulled away abruptly before he leaned in, his breath hot against Hanbin's ear. “So desperate, Hanbin-ah, you’re pathetic,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. 

Hanbin groaned, a low rumble in his chest, and Zhang Hao could feel the heat radiating off his body. Zhang Hao quickly swapped their positions, pushing Hanbin back against the bed and linking their fingers together to force Hanbin's hands against the mattress. 

“Stay there,” Zhang Hao commanded, his voice laced with authority. Hanbin groaned again, a sound of acquiescence and lust. His body was thrumming with excitement. All that time in solitary confinement had gotten to him, he was practically craving Zhang Hao’s touch. 

Zhang Hao ground against Hanbin, his own hard cock pressing insistently against Hanbin's boxers. “You feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against Hanbin's. “Maybe if you behave, I might give you a reward.”

Hanbin's hips bucked, seeking more friction. "Fuck," he growled. "Just… do something.” 

Zhang Hao chuckled, a low, sexy sound that sent shivers down Hanbin's spine. “Patience,” he promised. He quickly pulled Hanbin's boxers down, revealing his fat cock, full and heavy and ready. 

Zhang Hao licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes.

"You're so big," Zhang Hao said, his voice filled with awe and desire. "I can't wait to feel you in my mouth." He teased Hanbin with his words, his fingers tracing the thick veins running along Hanbin's length. Hanbin groaned, his hips thrusting involuntarily.

Zhang Hao swallowed Hanbin's cock in one swift motion, his lips stretching wide around the thick shaft. Hanbin groaned, his hands fisting the sheets above his head as Zhang Hao began to work him over, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

"F-fuck," Hanbin gasped. "Your mouth… feels so good."

Zhang Hao hummed in approval, the vibrations sending electric shocks through Hanbin's body. He sucked harder, his head bobbing up and down as he took Hanbin deeper and deeper into his throat.

Hanbin's hips began to move, fucking Zhang Hao's face with slow, deliberate thrusts. 

"That's it," Zhang Hao encouraged, his voice muffled by Hanbin's cock. "Fuck my face. Give it to me."

Hanbin's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his body tensing as he neared the edge. "I-I'm close," he warned, his voice hoarse with need.

Zhang Hao looked up at him, his eyes filled with challenge as he pulled off Hanbin’s cock, the leaking tip resting on his pouty lips. "Give it to me," he said, his voice firm. "Come down my throat, Hanbin-ah. I want to taste you."

Hanbin knew this was all wrong, he should be pushing the leader away, trying to get himself free. But Zhang Hao’s tongue felt so good on his hot cock, his throat constricted every time Hanbin thrust forwards. Every moment with Zhang Hao was overwhelming. 

With a final deep thrust, Hanbin came, his cock pulsing as he released down Zhang Hao's throat. The other man swallowed it all greedily, his throat working as he took every last drop.

Zhang Hao pulled away, a smug smile on his face. "Delicious," he said, licking his lips. "I told you good boys get rewarded.” 

Hanbin watched, stunned and aroused, as Zhang Hao stood up. The leader’s already pouty lips were even more plush now. Hanbin wanted to mark him up, keep him chained to the bed. 

“Behave yourself, BingBing.” Zhang Hao demanded. 

Hanbin swallowed heavily from his position on the bed. Watching as Zhang Hao blew him a kiss before he left the room, leaving Hanbin alone and confused. But also hungry for more.

_____

Hanbin didn't see Zhang Hao for days.

At first, he thought it was just another way for the man to play with him, leaving him in isolation, making him restless, eager, desperate. Zhang Hao was cruel in ways that didn’t require physical touch. He made people long for him, manipulated their minds until they confused hunger with desire, freedom with submission.

But as the time passed, the silence became something else. The mansion felt… off.

The Zerose Group members who entered his room no longer had their usual arrogance. Matthew wasn’t his usual self when he brought meals, he was quieter, distracted. Taerae was too tense, his fingers tapping against his iPad as if he was constantly waiting for an update. Even Jiwoong, ever the enforcer, was in and out of the room so quickly that Hanbin barely had time to taunt him.

Something was happening.

Hanbin noticed the change in patrols outside his window, guards were doubled, their routes tighter, their movements sharp and clipped. Voices were hushed in the hallways, yet he could hear the urgency in them.

Something was wrong.

Hanbin spent his time watching and waiting, but information was limited. If Zhang Hao was truly gone, this might be his best chance to escape.

Then, on the fourth night, everything fell apart.

A sudden explosion ripped through the mansion.

The force of it shook the walls, rattling the chandelier above his bed, the bed itself creaking. The glass of his window trembled violently, the once-serene night outside suddenly illuminated with bursts of fire.

Hanbin was on his feet in seconds. His heart pounded, breath coming short and fast as he strained to listen.

Gunfire erupted beyond his door. Followed by screams.

The deep, mechanical hum of vehicles approaching.

WakeOne. They were here.

A surge of adrenaline shot through Hanbin’s body. He lunged for the chain at his ankle, fingers scrambling at the lock. He had to move, now.

The shouting outside got louder, more chaotic. He heard the sharp sound of bodies hitting the floor, the distinct crunch of boots running across polished marble.

Hanbin yanked at the chain with all his strength, using the leg of the four-poster bed as leverage. The bed was slightly cracked from the explosion, the weakest it’d looked since Hanbin arrived. His muscles burned, sweat slicking his bare chest as he pulled again and again, teeth gritted. Come on. Come on. Then, snap . The fixture on the bedpost groaned before breaking apart, the chain finally coming loose. Hanbin barely had a moment to feel relief before heavy footsteps pounded toward his door. He was quick to pull on a pair of trousers and make his way across the door ready to face whatever was happening. 

Then it burst open.

A familiar figure stood in the doorway, backlit by the flickering flames of destruction behind him.

Bang Yoontea.

His face was hard, eyes sharp as the barrel of his gun swept across the room before settling on Hanbin. His jaw clenched, his normally calm demeanor shattered by fury.

“Hanbin.” His voice was tight.

Hanbin exhaled sharply, chest still heaving. "Took you long enough."

Yoontea didn’t smile. "Can you walk?"

Hanbin nodded, though his ankle throbbed where the shackle had dug into his skin. "Yeah. Let’s go."

Yoontea tossed him a gun. Hanbin caught it instinctively, his fingers curling around the familiar weight of the weapon. The safety was already off.

“Time to burn this place to the ground,” Yoontea muttered.

Hanbin followed him out, stepping over the first of many lifeless bodies.

The mansion was eerily quiet. Hanbin followed Yoontea through the dim corridors, the weight of his gun a steady reminder that this wasn’t over. The silence was unsettling—he knew Zerose wouldn’t just abandon their stronghold. They were still here, lurking, waiting.

Hanbin moved cautiously, his eyes sweeping every corner, every doorway. Something felt off.

Yoontea kept his voice low as they walked. “Cars are out back. If we move fast, we won’t need to engage.”

Hanbin nodded, his body still tense. It was too easy. The lack of resistance was unnatural, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Yet, they made their way through the mansion without encountering a single Zerose member. The halls, once filled with shadows of movement, were empty.

Hanbin exchanged a glance with Yoontea. “Where the hell is everyone?”

Yoontea’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Doesn’t matter. Move.”

They reached the back entrance, and Yoontea wasted no time shoving Hanbin into one of the waiting cars. The rest of WakeOne followed, their convoy speeding down the narrow streets of the city, heading away from Zerose territory.

Hanbin sat in the backseat beside Yoontea, the wind rushing past them as the driver pushed the car to its limits.

But something made Hanbin turn. His gaze flicked back toward the mansion. His breath caught in his throat.

Zhang Hao.

Standing at the entrance, arms crossed, watching them go.

Even from a distance, Hanbin could feel the weight of that stare. Zhang Hao wasn’t angry, and wasn't panicked. He was calm. Calculating. As if this was exactly what he had expected.

Hanbin swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away. Whatever they had done tonight, it wasn’t an ending. It was the beginning.

Yoontea’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Tell me what happened.”

Hanbin exhaled slowly. “Seongjun betrayed us. Sold out WakeOne to save himself.” He kept his tone steady, careful. He didn’t mention how he had personally dealt with that betrayal.

Yoontea clicked his tongue. “Figures. Bastard never knew where to place his loyalties.”

Hanbin didn’t respond. He was still thinking about Zhang Hao, the way he had let them leave.

Yoontea continued, his expression dark. “We just put a target on our backs. Zerose won’t let this go.”

“I know,” Hanbin admitted. “We should leave Seoul for a while. Regroup.”

Yoontea’s jaw tightened. “No. We stand our ground. If we run, we look weak.”

Hanbin frowned. “If we stay, we risk getting picked off one by one.” he argued, knowing that Yoontea was stubborn but he didn’t understand why he wouldn't want to regroup in a safer place.

Yoontea’s eyes narrowed. “You afraid of them, Hanbin?”

Hanbin’s grip on his gun tightened. Afraid? No. But something wasn’t right. His mind flashed back to Zhang Hao’s expression. That wasn’t the face of a man who had just lost. That was the face of someone waiting.

Hanbin forced himself to look forward, but deep inside, he knew—

Zhang Hao wasn’t finished with him yet.

_____

Days passed. Then weeks.

Hanbin had expected retaliation, they’d expected something.

WakeOne had burned Zerose’s mansion to the ground. They had left bodies in their wake. They had declared war.

And yet… Nothing. No counterattack. No sudden ambush. No whispered threats in the dead of night. The silence was more unsettling than any open conflict.

Hanbin tried to return to his normal routine, morning training, weapons drills, scouting missions. He kept himself busy, sharp, always prepared for the inevitable. And yet, no matter how hard he pushed himself, his mind refused to let go of a single, persistent thought.

Zhang Hao.

It was maddening. He saw him in flashes. The way his dark eyes glittered with amusement. The smirk that played at his lips, always too knowing. The way his fingers had traced over Hanbin’s skin, how his voice had been soft, teasing, even as he held all the power.

Hanbin clenched his jaw and slammed his fist against the punching bag in front of him.

He’s the enemy. The enemy.

And yet, his body betrayed him.

The need in his chest was unbearable. He hated it. Hated the way his fingers itched to grab Zhang Hao by the throat, pull him close, and—

Hanbin growled in frustration and stepped away from the bag, running a hand through his hair. He was losing it.

There was only one way to get this out of his system. He needed to fuck someone. Anyone. Someone who wasn’t Zhang Hao.

With the decision made, Hanbin took a long shower and prepared himself for the night. He exhaled as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Sharp. Controlled. Irresistible.

His black button-down hung open just enough to expose his sculpted chest, the tattoo along his collarbone dark against his skin. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his strong forearms. His black hair was pushed back, and he had forgone shaving, allowing a shadow of stubble to frame his jaw. He looked dangerous, capable, seductive, and that was exactly the energy he needed tonight.

He wasn’t going to think about Zhang Hao.

Not about the way his lips had curled in amusement. Not about the heat of his body pressed against Hanbin’s. Not about how their last encounter had left him burning for more.

No.

Tonight was about taking control. About getting him out of his system.

With that in mind, Hanbin grabbed his leather jacket, bid goodnight to a few WakeOne members, and straddled his motorbike. The powerful engine roared to life beneath him, the vibrations grounding him as he sped through the Seoul streets.

Tonight, he would find someone else. Anyone.

To play it safe, he chose a WakeOne owned club, one of the most prestigious in the city. No risk of running into Zerose members. Just loud music, strong drinks, and beautiful people. And there were plenty of them.

The club was dark, filled with flashing neon lights and bodies moving in synchronisation with the heavy bass of the music. Hanbin took it all in, the way laughter and whispered promises mixed into the air, the heat of sweat and perfume, the glow of golden liquor in crystal glasses.

Easy pickings.

Hanbin smiled as he stepped toward the bar. The bartender, a sleek, well-dressed man who recognised him immediately, nodded and slid him a strong drink before he even had to ask. Hanbin smirked, taking a sip, eyes scanning the room.

Tonight, someone else would take Zhang Hao’s place. Even if it was just for a few hours.

Hanbin leaned against the bar, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze skimming lazily across the sea of bodies. His sole intention tonight had been simple, to find someone, anyone, to fuck this frustrating obsession out of his system.

And then, he saw him . His fingers froze around the glass.

A slow, creeping heat curled in his gut, burning hotter with every second that passed.

Zhang Hao.

Here. In his club.

For a moment, Hanbin thought he was imagining it, that his own exhaustion and pent-up need had finally broken him, conjuring the one man who refused to leave his thoughts. But no, this was real.

Zhang Hao was on the dance floor, and he wasn’t alone.

Two men. Both tall, broad, powerful. Both devouring him with their hands.

The one behind Zhang Hao had an arm wrapped securely around his slim waist, his lips dangerously close to his ear, whispering something filthy, something sinful. The other, towering, muscular, pressed up against him from the front, his large hands roaming, his body grinding against Zhang Hao’s smaller frame with obscene ease.

And Zhang Hao?

He was thriving in it. Drinking in the attention.

Dressed in tight, black jeans that clung sinfully to his thighs, a half-open silk blouse that revealed the smooth expanse of his toned chest, parting just enough at the hem to tease the bare skin of his waist. A silver body chain wrapped around his throat, trailing down over his sternum, dipping past his navel, looping snugly around his waist like a collar, a leash, something to be pulled, to be held.

His hair was deliberately mussed, tousled in a way that suggested rough fingers had already been buried in it. His lips were slightly parted, glossy, kiss-bruised, and his dark-lined eyes smoldered beneath the dim club lights.

He looked dangerous. He looked untouchable. He looked fucking divine.

Hanbin felt his blood boil.

So this was what Zhang Hao was doing instead of hunting him down? All this time, Hanbin had been expecting an attack, a retaliation, hell, even a bullet to the skull. But no. Zhang Hao was here, drunk on pleasure, playing his little games with strangers, acting like Hanbin didn’t exist.

Like their last encounter had meant nothing. The thought made his teeth grind.

A quiet, seething rage twisted in his stomach. His fingers clenched so tightly around the glass that he swore it almost shattered.

Then, movement.

The man behind Zhang Hao leaned in closer, his lips grazing the curve of his ear, whispering something low and husky. Zhang Hao’s smirk was slow, wicked, deadly.

Then, he moved. A slow, deliberate sway of his hips. A roll of his body, smooth as silk, dangerous as sin.

Hanbin’s breath hitched.

His fingers itched, to grab that tiny waist, to pull Zhang Hao against him, to rip him away from those men and remind him who he should really be begging for.

And then, Zhang Hao looked at him. Their gazes locked, a silent clash of fire and steel. There was no shock in Zhang Hao’s face. No hesitation. No flicker of surprise. He had known Hanbin was here. He had done this on purpose.

A shiver crawled down Hanbin’s spine, hot and infuriating. Zhang Hao’s lips curled, his dark eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something knowing.

Then, he winked.

Hanbin felt his pulse hammer against his ribs, his jaw locking so tight he thought his teeth might crack.

And then, Zhang Hao turned.

He took both men by the hand, fingers threading between theirs, leading them through the crowd.

Leaving.

Walking away as if Hanbin wasn’t even worth a second glance. Something inside Hanbin snapped.

His body moved before his brain could process, legs pushing him forward, shoving past clusters of people, determined to follow. Hands reached for him, trying to pull him into a dance, fingers gripping his arms, his waist, but he brushed them off without a thought.

He headed towards where he knew the booths were located. Walking down the small, dark corridor, Hanbin paused at one of the booths, his hand clenching the curtain. The moan that reached his ears was unmistakable, a sound he had heard before. He threw the curtain open, his eyes landing on the scene before him. His heart pounded in his chest as he took in the sight of Zhang Hao, one of the men was knelt between his legs, his hands running over Zhang Hao’s thighs, while the other sat beneath him, Zhang Hao straddling him, his back to the man’s chest. The man beneath Zhang Hao had his lips on Zhang Hao’s throat, his hands roaming over Zhang Hao’s chest. 

Hanbin was grateful they were still clothed, but the scene was enough to set his blood on fire. Zhang Hao’s eyes met Hanbin’s immediately, a smirk playing on his lips as he ground against the man beneath him, moaning softly as the man licked over his pulse point.

“Stop.” Hanbin growled, his voice barely above a whisper but commanding all the same.

Zhang Hao scoffed, his eyes flashing with irritation. “You ran away from me, remember?” he replied, his voice laced with a challenge.

“I—I had to,” Hanbin stammered, his eyes flickering between Zhang Hao and the two men.

“I told you to behave,” Zhang Hao reminded him, his voice dripping with a dominance that sent a shiver down Hanbin’s spine.

Hanbin swallowed thickly, his gaze shifting to the two men. “Leave,” he demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. The men hesitated for a moment before looking at Zhang Hao, who nodded. They quickly exited the booth, leaving Hanbin and Zhang Hao alone.

Zhang Hao pouted prettily, sitting back against the sofa. His eyes were filled with a mix of amusement and challenge as he watched Hanbin. “They were my entertainment,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll do it,” Hanbin responded quickly, his voice laced with desperation.

Zhang Hao raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You will?” he asked, leaning in closer to Hanbin. “And what makes you think I want you?”

Hanbin’s breath hitched, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. “Because I know how to please you,” he replied, his voice low and sultry.

Zhang Hao chuckled, his eyes never leaving Hanbin’s. “Prove it,” he challenged.

Hanbin stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Zhang Hao’s. He reached out, his hand cupping Zhang Hao’s cheek. His thumb brushed against Zhang Hao’s lips, tracing their fullness. Zhang Hao’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily. Hanbin leaned in, his lips capturing Zhang Hao’s in a searing kiss. Zhang Hao moaned softly, his lips parting to allow Hanbin’s tongue to explore his mouth.

Hanbin’s hands roamed over Zhang Hao’s body, his fingers tracing the lines of his chest and stomach. Over the pretty body chain that glinted under the dim booth lights. Zhang Hao shivered under his touch, his breath coming in soft gasps. Hanbin broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Zhang Hao’s neck. He nipped at the soft skin, his tongue soothing the sting. Zhang Hao moaned, his head thrown back in pleasure. 

Hanbin knew this was wrong, Zhang Hao was the enemy, Hanbin shouldn’t want him as badly as he did. 

Hanbin’s hands moved lower, his fingers unbuttoning Zhang Hao’s pants. He looked up at Zhang Hao, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and dominance. Zhang Hao’s breath hitched, his eyes filled with anticipation. Hanbin slipped his hands inside Zhang Hao’s pants, his fingers tracing the length of his pretty cock. Zhang Hao moaned, his hips bucking against Hanbin’s touch.

“You’re so hard,” Hanbin whispered, his voice low and sultry.

Zhang Hao nodded, his eyes filled with desire. “Fuck me,” he whispered, his voice laced with need.

Hanbin’s eyes darkened, his fingers tightening around Zhang Hao’s cock. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice firm. He wanted to savour this moment, to make Zhang Hao scream his name before he claimed him.

Zhang Hao was quick to grab Hanbin’s hair, pulling his lips away from his body. 

“You know, Hanbin-ah,” Zhang Hao leaned in, his voice a sultry whisper, “I've been thinking about something.”

"Oh, yeah?" Hanbin's eyes darkened with interest.

“I want you to finger me. I want you to stretch me out, see how good you are with those strong hands,” Zhang Hao's eyes gleamed with desire. 

Hanbin's breath hitched, and he leaned closer, his voice a growl. "And what makes you think I won't just take you right now?"

"Because," Zhang Hao grinned, hsi fingers tightening on Hanbin’s hair, "I say, we take this slow."

Hanbin chuckled, a low, sexy sound that sent shivers down Zhang Hao's spine. “Fine. But I want to eat you out first.”

"No," Zhang Hao said firmly. "I want your fingers. I want to feel you inside me."

Hanbin leaned back, irritated, the fingers falling from his hair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Fine. Your rules."

Zhang Hao pushed Hanbin back, and Hanbin watched with wide focused eyes as the leader stripped slowly, teasing Hanbin with every inch of skin he revealed. Zhang Hao was smooth everywhere, his skin silky. Hanbin groaned as he realised Zhang Hao was keeping the body chain on, it made him look even more gorgeous, if that was even possible. 

He turned to Hanbin, his eyes filled with challenge. "Well?" he said, his voice a provocative purr.

Hanbin wasted no time, his eyes burning with desire as he moved. Zhang Hao watched as Hanbin stripped, revealing his strong toned body. He was hard, his big cock jutting out, ready. Zhang Hao licked his lips, eager to feel him.

Hanbin joined him on the sofa, his hands immediately going to Zhang Hao's hips. He pulled Zhang Hao’s body closer to his mouth, his stubble rubbing against Zhang Hao's inner thighs, making him gasp.

“You like that?” Hanbin murmured, his breath hot against Zhang Hao's skin.

“Yes,” Zhang Hao hissed, arching into the touch. “More.”

Hanbin obliged, his stubble tracing a path up Zhang Hao's thigh, making him shudder. He reached Zhang Hao's ass, and Zhang Hao could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against his hole. He moaned, his cock twitching in anticipation.

Hanbin chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made Zhang Hao's cock jump. "You're so eager," he murmured, his fingers tracing the crack of Zhang Hao's ass. He could see a bottle of lotion and swiped it, dribbling the substance on his fingers. 

"Fuck me," Zhang Hao groaned, his hips pushing back against Hanbin's touch. "Make me feel you."

Hanbin obliged, two dripping fingers sliding into Zhang Hao's ass, teasing his hole. Zhang Hao moaned, his hands fisting the sofa beneath him. Hanbin's fingers were skilled, knowing exactly how to touch him, how to make him squirm.

"You're so tight," Hanbin murmured, his fingers probing Zhang Hao's hole, scissoring him open and stroking over his insides. "I can't wait to feel you stretched around my cock."

"Yes," Zhang Hao hissed, his body on fire. "Finger me. Make me ready for you."

Hanbin complied, his fingers sliding in and out of Zhang Hao's puckered hole, stretching him slowly. Zhang Hao moaned, his body adjusting to the intrusion. Hanbin's fingers were thick, filling him completely. He moved them slowly, in and out, making Zhang Hao whimper with need.

"More," Zhang Hao begged, his body pushing back against Hanbin's touch. "Give me more."

Hanbin added another finger, stretching Zhang Hao further. Zhang Hao moaned, his body adjusting to the new intrusion. Hanbin's fingers moved in and out, making Zhang Hao's body sing with pleasure.

"You feel so good," Hanbin murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Your body is made for me."

"Ahh," Zhang Hao hissed, his body on fire. "Fuck me. Do it now."

Hanbin smirked, his fingers moving faster, pushing Zhang Hao closer to the edge. Zhang Hao's body was on fire, his cock throbbing with need. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing in anticipation.

"Come for me," Hanbin growled, his fingers moving faster, stroking over that bundle of nerves that made Zhang Hao’s back arch prettily. "Let me feel you cum."

Zhang Hao was maoning so prettily, his body fucking back on Hanbin’s fingers. He cried out, his body convulsing as his orgasm hit him. Waves of pleasure washed over him, making him see stars. Hanbin's fingers slid out of him, and Zhang Hao collapsed, his body spent.

Hanbin moved over him, his body covering Zhang Hao's. "My turn," he growled, slicking up his big cock before pressing against Zhang Hao's ass.

Zhang Hao gazed up at him, his eyes were practically sparkling. "Hanbin-ah," Zhang Hao murmured, his body still tingling from his orgasm. "Fuck me. Make it good."

Hanbin was determined to show Zhang Hao just how good he could be. His cock slid into Zhang Hao's well-prepared hole, Zhang Hao moaned, his body adjusting to the new intrusion. Hanbin's cock was thick, filling him completely. Zhang Hao gasped as his nails dug into Hanbin’s arms, trying to adjust to being filled by something so thick. 

Hanbin moved slowly at first, giving Zhang Hao time to adjust. "You feel so good," Hanbin murmured, his body pressing Zhang Hao's against the sofa and feeling his hot, slick skin beneath him. 

“F-fuck, youre so big,” Zhang Hao hissed, his body pushing back against Hanbin's touch. “F-faster. Baobei. Give it to me harder.”

Hanbin groaned at the Chinese nickname, happy to oblige, his body moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of Zhang Hao's hole. Zhang Hao moaned, his body on fire. He could feel another orgasm building, his body tensing in anticipation. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the booth, a symphony of moans and gasps. Zhang Hao’s body tensed, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Hanbin-ah, baobei,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.

Hanbin’s thrusts became even harder, his body slamming against Zhang Hao’s, straight into his prostate. Zhang Hao’s body tensed, his breath hitching as he came a second time, his cock spurting against his stomach. Hanbin followed soon after, his body shuddering as he filled Zhang Hao completely.

The heat between them lingered, thick and intoxicating.

Hanbin pulled away, his eyes transfixed on Zhang Hao’s fluttering hole as his come dribbled out and down Zhang Hao’s trembling thighs. 

He blinked before flopping on the sofa. Hanbin's chest rose and fell in rapid succession, his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he lay against the smooth leather of the booth. His skin was slick with sweat, his breathing still uneven, heart hammering against his ribs.

Beside him, Zhang Hao stretched like a satisfied cat, his lips curling into something smug, something knowing. His bare chest glowed under the dim lighting, a thin sheen of sweat making the silver body chain glisten against his skin. His dark hair was tousled, his lips swollen from Hanbin’s kisses, from Hanbin’s teeth.

And yet, despite it all, Zhang Hao had won. Again.

Hanbin clenched his jaw, turning his gaze away from the sight of the man who had wrapped him up in his web so effortlessly.

“Going to run away again, BingBing?” Zhang Hao purred, voice laced with amusement.

Hanbin’s eyes snapped to his, narrowing at the nickname that rolled off Zhang Hao’s tongue with such casual possession. He’d realised that the nickname was Hanbin’s name in Chinese, it was strangely intimate that Zhang Hao called him that. 

The mafia leader’s smirk widened, tilting his head slightly, watching Hanbin with quiet, deadly amusement.

Hanbin pushed himself up abruptly, his entire body tense, as if standing now could somehow undo the past hour. As if walking away could cleanse him of the way his hands had clutched at Zhang Hao’s body, the way he had let himself drown in him, again.

Zhang Hao didn’t stop him.

He didn’t even move, just lay there, stretched out like he owned the place. Like he owned Hanbin. Hanbin quickly pulled on his clothes, swallowing heavily as he kept his eyes away from Zhang Hao’s body. 

"You’ll never be free,” Zhang Hao said suddenly, softly, too softly.

Hanbin stilled for a second.

A weight settled in his gut, something dark, something dangerous. He forced himself to scoff, shaking his head as if the words didn’t get to him. As if they weren’t true.

Without another glance, he turned, pushing through the curtain of the private booth and out into the club. The bass of the music pounded against his skull, but he barely heard it. He moved quickly, cutting through the dance floor, ignoring the wandering hands that reached for him, ignoring the way his own skin still burned with the ghost of Zhang Hao’s touch.

He didn’t stop moving until he was outside, the cold air biting at his overheated skin as he straddled his motorbike and sped off into the night.

The familiar sight of the WakeOne mansion came into view, its grand structure illuminated against the night sky. Hanbin exhaled sharply, hands gripping the handles of his bike as he pulled up to the front.

His pulse had barely started to settle when his phone pinged. He frowned, pulling it from his pocket, swiping at the screen.

Unknown Number

A simple message. A hotel location. 

A time. Tomorrow night.

And a single kiss emoji.

Hanbin’s stomach clenched. His mind was already putting the pieces together.

Zhang Hao.

Somehow, the bastard had his number. Hanbin let out a sharp breath, fingers tightening around the device. He knew exactly what this was.

A trap. Another game.

Zhang Hao was testing him, seeing if he’d take the bait, if he’d show up.

Hanbin knew he had to resist.

And yet… his fingers hovered over the screen, his mind already racing with possibilities.

With temptation.

_____

Hanbin sat at the long mahogany table in WakeOne’s meeting room, arms crossed, his fingers absently tapping against his bicep as Yoontea spoke. The conversation drifted in and out of focus, words slipping through his ears like sand through an open palm. He was supposed to be paying attention. He should be paying attention. But his mind was elsewhere.

Weeks.

Weeks of the same routine. Weeks of forcing himself to ignore the messages. Weeks of silencing the irritation that clawed at the back of his throat every time his phone buzzed.

Every Friday. Without fail. A new location. A new time. A new hotel. Always owned by WakeOne.

Zhang Hao was playing with him. Taunting him. Invading his space as if to remind Hanbin that no matter how much distance he put between them, Zhang Hao would always be just a step behind.

At first, Hanbin had deleted the messages without a second thought. Then, when they didn’t stop, he blocked the number. It didn’t matter. A new number appeared the next week. And the week after that. And the week after that. Like an invisible leash around his neck, loose enough that he could pretend he was free, until Zhang Hao decided to tug on it.

The worst part?

The messages didn’t hold threats. They weren’t filled with demands or ultimatums. Just an address. A time. And that insufferable little kiss emoji at the end.

Like it was a game. Like Zhang Hao was so confident Hanbin would eventually break.

Hanbin exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to refocus, but it was too late. Yoontea had noticed.

"You’re distracted."

Hanbin looked up to find the WakeOne boss watching him, eyes sharp with scrutiny. "What’s going on?"

Hanbin didn’t react, keeping his expression neutral as he leaned back in his chair. "Just tired."

Yoontea lifted a brow. "Tired? You don’t get tired."

Hanbin held his gaze, forcing an easy smirk. "Maybe I’m getting old."

Yoontea scoffed but didn’t push further. Instead, he exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he switched topics. "Zerose has been quiet."

That made Hanbin’s smirk drop. His fingers drummed against the polished wood of the table. "Too quiet?"

Yoontea nodded, eyes dark with something thoughtful. "No retaliation. No threats. Not even a whisper of them trying to track us down." He leaned forward, tapping a cigarette against the table before lighting it. "That doesn’t sit right with me."

Hanbin didn’t respond immediately. But his mind was already moving. Zhang Hao wasn’t the type to let things go. Especially not when Hanbin had left him. So why had nothing happened? Why weren’t there more attacks? More pressure?

Hanbin’s thoughts were interrupted when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. That guy again. Hanbin’s gaze flickered toward the new recruit, the one who had been lingering around ever since he had escaped Zerose.

Watching. Never obviously. Never outright. But enough that Hanbin noticed. Enough that his instincts screamed don’t trust him.

"What’s with him?" Hanbin muttered, nodding toward the man.

Yoontea followed his gaze before letting out a short, dismissive scoff. "Oh. That’s Minjun. He took over your role while you were gone."

Hanbin tensed instantly. His gut twisted with something dark and uneasy.

Took over his role? He hadn’t even been gone that long and yet, someone else had stepped into his place. Hanbin didn’t like that. Didn’t trust it. Something about Minjun felt off.

The man wasn’t openly hostile, wasn’t suspicious enough to call out directly, but Hanbin knew better than to ignore his instincts. Minjun was watching them. Watching him.

"Why’s he still here then?" Hanbin asked, voice carefully neutral.

Yoontea shrugged. "Says he wants to stay. Thought you wouldn’t mind a second-in-command."

Hanbin’s jaw locked. Yeah. No .

The conversation drifted, but Hanbin barely heard any of it, until Minjun himself spoke up. "So, what exactly happened when you were captured?"

Hanbin’s entire body went rigid. The question was casual. Too casual. Hanbin lifted his gaze, meeting Minjun’s stare with a cold, unreadable expression.

Yoontea, too, seemed curious. "Yeah. That’s something I’ve been wondering about."

Hanbin forced himself to relax. To stay in control. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lazily against the table. "They wanted information," he said smoothly. "I didn’t give them anything."

Yoontea frowned. "And they just… let you live?"

Silence. Minjun’s stare didn’t waver. Hanbin clenched his jaw.

Zhang Hao’s voice echoed in his head. "You’ll never be free."

Hanbin knew he needed to find answers, he hated the fact that he’d have to do the one thing he’d been resisting the whole time. He was done playing whatever game Zhang Hao was toying with.

Which was why, when Friday night came and the message arrived again, he made a decision.

He was done ignoring this. Hanbin grabbed his phone, quickly typing a response.

See you there.

The reply was almost instant.

Can’t wait, baobei.

Hanbin clenched his jaw as he read the message again, it was like Zhang Hao was mocking him, but he had to do something. He had to find some answers. He cautiously moved through the WakeOne mansion with purpose, keeping his steps light, his expression neutral.

But just as he reached the garage, a voice stopped him.

"Where the hell are you going?"

Hanbin turned, keeping his face blank. "Club."

Bang Yoontea’s eyes narrowed. "I’ll come."

A spike of panic hit Hanbin’s chest, he couldn’t let that happen. Too fast, too sharp, he said, "No."

Yoontea frowned. "Why not?"

Hanbin exhaled, forcing himself to appear nonchalant as he rolled his shoulders. "I just… need to blow off some steam."

Yoontea’s expression didn’t change.

Then Hanbin saw it, the moment realisation flickered through his boss’s eyes. Yoontea scoffed with a smirk. "You’re going to get laid."

Hanbin held back the urge to roll his eyes, instead offering a lazy shrug. "Something like that."

A pause. A long, considering silence. Then, finally, Yoontea sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Don’t be stupid."

Hanbin forced a smirk. "You wound me."

Without another word, he straddled his motorbike and revved the engine, speeding out of the WakeOne estate before Yoontea could change his mind.

But as he weaved through the city streets, the unease in his gut only grew. Like he was being watched. Like someone was following him. Hanbin’s grip tightened on the handlebars, his jaw clenching. He knew he wasn’t alone.

The hotel came into view and Hanbin quickly climbed off his motorbike, making his way into the entrance. Hanbin moved through the hotel with the sharp-edged caution of a man who had spent his life navigating threats lurking in the dark. Every step was deliberate, his pace measured as he advanced through the lavish corridors, his senses on high alert. The grand architecture of the hotel loomed around him, all polished marble and intricate chandeliers that bathed everything in an eerie golden glow, as if mocking him for his wariness.

He knew better than to trust silence.

His eyes flickered toward the reflective surfaces around him—the sleek walls, the grandiose mirrors, even the polished brass railings lining the staircases—searching for any sign of movement. Anyone following him. But every time he turned a corner, all he was met with was his own reflection. Still, the feeling remained, that prickle of unease at the back of his neck, a cold reminder that he was never truly alone.

Just to be safe, he took the long way to the suite Zhang Hao had lured him to, weaving through multiple hallways, pausing at doorways, lingering near turns, listening.

Nothing. No hurried footsteps in the distance. No telltale creak of weight shifting on the floorboards. Not a single trace of an unwanted presence shadowing him. But that only made him more uneasy.

Finally, he reached the room.

Hanbin came to a halt just outside the door, his pulse steady but his grip tightening around the cool metal of his gun. His instincts screamed at him that this was wrong—that he should turn around, walk away, forget this whole thing. But he ignored them, jaw tightening as he exhaled softly through his nose.

This is a trap. It always had been. But he had come anyway.

With a silent breath, he raised his gun and pushed open the door in one swift, controlled motion, slipping inside before scanning the space with the precision of a man trained to always expect an ambush.

Nothing. The suite was silent.

The only illumination came from the towering floor-to-ceiling windows, where the city lights stretched endlessly beyond the glass, casting an ambient glow over the luxurious room. It was eerily pristine, untouched, as if no one had been here at all. The bed remained perfectly made, the armchairs in their correct places, not a single object out of place.

Hanbin’s brows furrowed as he took another cautious step forward, the sound of his own breathing almost deafening in the heavy quiet. His gun remained poised, his eyes flickering to the ensuite, the closet, even the balcony, every possible hiding place.

Still nothing. A frown creased his lips.

Zhang Hao was here. He had to be.

The unease in his stomach churned into something sharper, something more volatile, as if his body recognised a threat his eyes hadn’t yet seen.

Then— Darkness. Everything plunged into black.

Hanbin froze.

His breath came sharply through his nose as he adjusted his stance, pivoting toward the entrance, muscles tensing like a coiled spring. His gun remained steady, his grip firm, his body shifting into the familiar instinct of fight.

Then, through the pitch-black void, came a sound.

Low, quiet. A chuckle. A voice that had haunted his thoughts for weeks.

Zhang Hao.

Hanbin’s jaw clenched as a spike of irritation shot through him, burning hot against the cool tension in his veins. "Fucking coward," he snarled, head tilting slightly to track the direction of the sound. His pulse thrummed, steady but watchful, waiting for the inevitable.

He didn’t have to wait long. Something yanked his gun from his grip.

It happened so fast, like a sudden gust of wind stealing a piece of paper from his hands. The sharp click of metal hitting the floor barely registered before—

Cold leather. Something tightened around his throat. Fast. Unyielding.

Hanbin’s body reacted on instinct, hands immediately flying up to tear away whatever had latched onto him, but the grip was firm, unwavering, and then—

His knees hit the floor. Hard.

The impact sent a shock up his spine, the sharp edge of humiliation cutting into him even as his body struggled against the force keeping him down. His fingers clawed at the thick weight around his neck, a collar, realisation dawning like the slow burn of a match catching fire.

Zhang Hao had collared him.

A surge of anger flared violently in Hanbin’s chest, burning away the remnants of unease. He hated this. Hated the control, the arrogance, the audacity. Hated how Zhang Hao always managed to be one step ahead, pulling the strings like some kind of fucking puppeteer.

The bastard.

Then the lights flickered back on.

Hanbin’s breath hitched as the room was bathed in golden light.

His gaze lifted immediately, only to land on the man sitting leisurely across from him, watching him with undisguised amusement.

Zhang Hao.

Reclining on a luxurious divan, his long legs crossed at the ankles, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, completely at ease. He was dressed in his usual calculated elegance, black silk draping over his lean frame, every inch of him exuding a quiet, deadly confidence. 

But what really caught Hanbin’s attention was the long silk rope Zhang Hao held delicately between his fingers.

The same rope that connected to the collar around Hanbin’s neck. Fury surged in Hanbin’s chest.

"You—" he growled, but the word was cut short when Zhang Hao tugged lightly on the rope. Not hard, not forceful, just enough. Just enough to remind him.

Zhang Hao’s lips curled into a slow, taunting smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, watching Hanbin’s reaction with obvious delight.

"Right where you belong," Zhang Hao murmured, voice silky, smug, infuriatingly calm. His smirk widened. "Sung Hanbin."

Hanbin's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Zhang Hao. "You think you can control me with that?" He challenged, his voice a low growl as he glared at the silk in Zhang Hao’s hand. 

Zhang Hao chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down Hanbin’s spine. "I don't just think, Hanbin-ah. I know." He stood from the divan and took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Hanbin’s. "You can fight it all you want, but your body betrays you. Your heart races, your breath hitches. You want this."

Hanbin scoffed, but the sound lacked conviction. "You're delusional."

Zhang Hao leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Am I? Then why are you so hard right now?" He reached out, his fingers brushing against Hanbin’s cheek, before trailing down to his neck, tracing the line of the collar. "You can't deny it, baobei. You want me."

Hanbin swallowed hard, his body reacting despite his attempts to resist. He could feel the heat radiating from Zhang Hao, could smell the faint scent of his skin, sweet and addictive. He wanted to push Zhang Hao away, but his body was betraying him, leaning into the touch instead.

"You're playing with fire, Zhang Hao," Hanbin warned, his voice barely above a whisper.

Zhang Hao’s fingers moved to Hanbin’s collar, his thumb brushing against Hanbin’s pulse point. "I like playing with fire, Hanbin-ah. Especially when it's as hot as you are."

Hanbin’s breath hitched, his body aching with a need he couldn't deny. Zhang Hao’s touch was electric, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel his control slipping, his resistance weakening.

"You're mine, Hanbin-ah," Zhang Hao murmured, his voice a low growl. "You've always been mine."

Hanbin’s eyes fluttered closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He couldn't fight it anymore. He didn't want to. He wanted Zhang Hao.

Zhang Hao tugged on the leash, making Hanbin lift his head. Zhang Hao’s lips suddenly captured Hanbin’s in a fierce, demanding kiss. Hanbin moaned, his body pressing against Zhang Hao’s as he surrendered to the kiss. Zhang Hao’s tongue explored his mouth, tasting, teasing, claiming. Hanbin could feel his body responding, his cock hardening even more, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Hanbin attempted to get to his feet, but Zhang Hao was quick to tug on the silk leash again, the collar tightening around Hanbin’s throat. Zhang Hao broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

"On your knees, Hanbin-ah," he commanded, his voice a low purr. “Good boys get rewarded.”

Hanbin hesitated for a moment before sinking back to his knees, his eyes never leaving Zhang Hao’s. Zhang Hao smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice silky.

Hanbin reached out, licking his lips, his fingers trembling as he reached for Zhang Hao’s hips. “Let me— let me taste you,” Hanbin growled. 

Zhang Hao nodded softly, his fingers playing with the silk leash. 

Hanbin undid Zhang Hao’s belt, then his pants. Zhang Hao’s cock sprang free, already hard and ready. Hanbin licked his lips, his eyes locked onto Zhang Hao’s.

“Get to work,” Zhang Hao commanded, his voice dripping with joy.

Hanbin leaned in, his tongue flicking against the head of Zhang Hao’s smooth cock before taking it into his mouth. It was just the right size, not too big or thick, perfect. 

Zhang Hao groaned, his hands fisting in Hanbin’s hair as Hanbin began to suck, his head bobbing up and down. Hanbin couldn’t stop himself, a flare in his chest telling him to make Zhang Hao feel good. 

"Fuck, baobei," Zhang Hao groaned, his hips thrusting forward, fucking Hanbin’s mouth. "You look so fucking hot on your knees, sucking cock like you were born for it.” 

Hanbin moaned, the dirty talk sending shivers down his spine. He sucked harder, his tongue swirling around the head of Zhang Hao’s cock. His hands grabbed fistfuls of Zhang Hao’s perky ass, holding the cheeks and using them as leverage to rock the pretty cock back and forth into his mouth. 

Zhang Hao’s grip on Hanbin’s hair tightened, his hips thrusting faster, deeper. "Fuck, Hanbinnie. You're going to make me come."

Hanbin hummed, he wanted it, he needed to feel Zhang Hao’s release down his throat, he was practically begging for it. He moaned around the pretty cock in his mouth, the vibration sending Zhang Hao over the edge. 

He groaned, his cock throbbing as he came, his come spilling into Hanbin’s mouth. Hanbin swallowed, his eyes never leaving Zhang Hao’s.

Zhang Hao pulled Hanbin to his feet, his lips capturing Hanbin’s in a fierce, demanding kiss, unbothered that Hanbin tasted like his release. "Fuck me, baobei," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

Hanbin nodded, his body aching with need. He turned Zhang Hao around, pushing him against the bedroom wall. He undid his own pants, his heavy cock springing free, already hard and ready. 

He spat on his hand, using it to slick up his cock before pressing it against Zhang Hao’s ass.

"F-fuck, Hanbinnie," Zhang Hao groaned, throwing his head back as his body was stretched around Hanbin’s fat cock. He spread his legs further apart, pushing back against Hanbin’s cock. “Give it to me. Fuck me hard.” 

Hanbin thrust into Zhang Hao, his cock sliding in with only some resistance, Zhang Hao must’ve prepared himself beforehand, knowing exactly what he wanted Hanbin to do to him. 

After a few thrusts Hanbin was able to pinpoint Zhang Hao’s prostate easily enough and soon the Zerose leader was clawing at the wall for purchase. 

Zhang Hao moaned. "F-fuck, yes," he groaned. "Harder, Hanbin. Fuck me harder."

Hanbin obliged, his hips thrusting faster, deeper. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other filled the room, their moans and groans echoing off the walls.

"Yes, yes, yes," Zhang Hao chanted, his body pushing back against Hanbin’s thrusts. "Give it to me, baobei. Give me your big fat cock. Give me everything."

Hanbin’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body aching with pleasure. He could feel his orgasm building, his cock throbbing. "Fuck, Zhang Hao," he groaned. "I'm going to come."

“Baobei! Yes!” Zhang Hao groaned. "Come in me. Fill me up!"

Hanbin’s body tensed, he could feel Zhang Hao tugging on the silk rope, tightening the collar around Hanbin’s throat. It was just what he needed, his cock throbbing as he came, his cum spilling into Zhang Hao’s ass. He collapsed against the smaller man, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.

In a single fluid motion, Zhang Hao suddenly turned to face Hanbin, his cock slipping free of Zhang Hao’s body. Before Hanbin could react, before he could pull away, lithe arms wrapped around him, firm, possessive, unrelenting.

The words left Zhang Hao’s lips in a whisper, but they carried the weight of something permanent. 

“No more running.”

Hanbin’s throat felt tight.

His hands twitched at his sides, instinct screaming at him to push Zhang Hao away, to break free before it was too late. But it was already too late, wasn’t it?

He knew that now.

Knew that no matter how many times he ran, no matter how hard he tried to cut Zhang Hao out of his life, the Zerose leader would always find him.

Always pull him back. Always remind him that he was never truly free.

Hanbin wet his lips, his voice tight as he forced out the question, the one that had been clawing at his chest since the moment Zhang Hao had walked into his life.

“What do you want from me?”

Zhang Hao didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pretend. Didn’t play games. He held Hanbin’s gaze, dark eyes gleaming with something raw and utterly terrifying in its honesty.

“I want everything.”

Hanbin felt the words like a punch to the gut, something sharp and consuming twisting deep inside him.

Because there was no mockery in Zhang Hao’s voice, no teasing lilt or careful evasion.

Just the truth.

A truth that Hanbin wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

His heart pounded against his ribs, his breath coming too shallow, too fast. He hated the way Zhang Hao looked at him, like he already knew. Knew that Hanbin was fighting a battle he had already lost.

He needed control. Needed boundaries. Needed rules.

"This stays a secret," Hanbin finally said, his voice coming out steadier than he felt. He pushed against Zhang Hao’s chest just enough to force some space between them, his breathing still uneven. "No one can know."

Zhang Hao's lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk, amusement flickering in his expression. His fingers grazed the leather of the collar still wrapped around Hanbin’s throat, a featherlight touch that sent a pulse of heat through his skin.

“Scared of what your pathetic WakeOne boys might think?” Zhang Hao murmured, his voice dipping into something dangerously close to a purr. “Or are you just afraid they’ll realise you can’t resist me?”

Hanbin's jaw locked. Damn him. Damn his arrogance. Damn the way he always knew exactly how to get under Hanbin’s skin.

Without thinking, Hanbin reached up, fingers curling around the collar to rip it off, only to freeze when it wouldn’t budge. His breath hitched, a flicker of something close to panic flashing through him before he masked it, his grip tightening.

Zhang Hao chuckled, his amusement infuriatingly obvious as he stepped forward again, closing the space Hanbin had tried to put between them. His hand lifted, twisting the silver ring on his finger before pressing it against the lock of the collar. There was a soft click , and then the metal clasp finally loosened, the leather sliding away from Hanbin’s throat.

Hanbin exhaled sharply, snatching the collar the moment it was free and shoving it away from himself.

Zhang Hao, however, wasn’t done.

“Keep it,” he murmured, his voice carrying that same smooth, effortless control that drove Hanbin insane. His fingers brushed against Hanbin’s wrist, light but deliberate. “Wear it next time.”

Hanbin cursed under his breath, he watched as Zhang Hao sauntered, naked, to the divan and sat back down, looking at his phone screen completely unbothered by the fact he had Hanbin’s come dripping down his thighs. 

Hanbin quickly grabbed his clothes, pulling them on with annoyance and shoving the collar into his jacket pocket. Without another word, he stormed out of the hotel room, fury simmering beneath his skin, but not all of it was directed at Zhang Hao.

Hanbin’s motorbike roared through the city, the wind cutting against his face as if trying to knock some sense back into him. The night blurred around him, streetlights flashing by in streaks of white and gold, but no amount of speed could erase the way Zhang Hao’s hands had felt against his skin.

The way his words still echoed in Hanbin’s head.

Hanbin barely remembered pulling into the mansion.

Barely registered the darkened hallways as he stalked toward his bedroom, ignoring the handful of WakeOne members who called out to him. He slammed the door shut behind him, letting out a sharp breath before throwing his jacket onto the bed, his hands still shaking with frustration.

He paced for a moment, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, before finally collapsing onto his mattress, exhaustion pressing against his chest.

But he wasn’t tired.

Not really.

His gaze drifted against his will, toward his jacket. Toward the pocket. Toward the collar.

Hanbin inhaled sharply, sitting up and yanking it out, gripping the leather tightly in his hands.

It wasn’t just a piece of metal and leather. It was proof. Proof of his weakness. Proof of Zhang Hao’s control.

Proof that no matter how far he ran, how hard he fought, how much he denied it, he was already caught.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to be free.

_____

Hanbin told himself he wouldn’t go.

Every week, every Friday, every damn time his phone lit up with a new message: a time, a place, a silent challenge, he swore he would ignore it.

But he never did.

At first, it had been defiance. He had gone only to prove to himself that he could walk away whenever he wanted. That Zhang Hao didn’t have the power over him that the Zerose leader so arrogantly claimed.

But that had been a lie.

Because every time Hanbin told himself this would be the last time, he still found himself walking into those hotels. Still found himself letting Zhang Hao touch him, own him, pull him deeper into the abyss he knew he’d never escape from.

And the worst part? He didn’t want to. 

The routine had become second nature.

Friday night. Midnight. A new location. Always one of WakeOne’s hotels. Always on his turf.

It should have felt like a challenge. Like Zhang Hao was invading his space, stepping into his world with a smug smirk and a knowing gaze. But it didn’t.

It felt like Zhang Hao was making a home there.

Like he belonged.

Hanbin hated that. Hated how easy it was now to walk through those grand hotel corridors, his steps sure, his pulse already racing. Hated how the anticipation coiled in his stomach, a wildfire spreading beneath his skin, long before he even reached the room.

And Zhang Hao always knew.

Always.

No matter how much Hanbin tried to hide it, tried to pretend he wasn’t already half-hard before he even knocked on the door, wasn’t already dizzy with the thrill of it. Zhang Hao saw right through him.

And he made sure Hanbin knew it.

Tonight was no different.

Hanbin stepped into the penthouse suite, his breath steady despite the hammering of his heart. Zhang Hao was already waiting for him, lounging against the armrest of the divan, long legs crossed, a glass of whiskey resting lazily in one hand.

And in the other hand, the silk leash. 

Hanbin swallowed hard.

The air between them crackled, the atmosphere thick with something suffocating and inescapable. Zhang Hao drank him in, dark eyes dragging over Hanbin’s body, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.

And Hanbin? Hanbin should have torn his gaze away. Should have demanded control back. Should have—

But Zhang Hao just smirked, lifting the leash between his fingers, the soft silk curling, beckoning.

“Come here, baobei.”

Hanbin’s body moved before his mind even caught up. And that? That was the problem. Because there was no hesitation anymore. No internal battle. No resistance. He stepped forward, willingly, knowingly, recklessly.

He let Zhang Hao pull him down, let the Zerose leader press the silk against his collar, let him buckle it into place like it belonged there.

Like Hanbin belonged to him.

And maybe, just maybe, Hanbin was starting to believe it too.

_____

The night was thick with the scent of salt and gasoline, the port humming with the low murmur of waves lapping against the docks. The steel shipping containers stood in perfect rows, casting long shadows beneath the dim floodlights. Hanbin adjusted the leather gloves on his hands, shifting his weight as he leaned against the hood of one of WakeOne’s black SUVs.

It was supposed to be a standard pickup. A simple transaction.

And yet, Hanbin couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up his spine.

Maybe it was because Bang Yoontea wouldn’t stop looking at him like that.

Hanbin exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as the WakeOne leader watched him from the other side of the lot.

Yoontea was sharp. Too sharp.

And Hanbin had been slipping.

“Alright, talk,” Yoontea finally said, his voice casual, but his stare calculating. “Who the hell have you been fucking?”

Hanbin choked on his own breath, whipping his head toward Yoontea so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. “Excuse me?”

Yoontea smirked, shaking his head as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “Don’t act dumb, Hanbin. I know you too well. You’ve been smiling.”

Hanbin scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest in mock offense. “I do that all the time.”

“Like hell you do,” Yoontea muttered, flicking open his lighter. “And not like this. This—” he gestured vaguely at Hanbin, “—is the look of a man who’s getting dicked down so good he forgets he has problems.”

Hanbin nearly threw a punch.

Minjae, who had been lingering near the back of the group, let out an amused chuckle. “Sounds about right. I mean, the guy’s practically glowing lately.”

Hanbin bristled. He turned toward Minjae, barely biting back the sharp retort bubbling on his tongue. He still didn’t trust the bastard, and hearing his voice in the middle of this conversation only made his irritation spike.

“Mind your own damn business,” Hanbin snapped.

Minjae smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just making an observation.”

Hanbin clenched his fists, but before he could fire back, the unmistakable sound of an approaching vehicle cut through the air.

The shipment.

Yoontea pushed off the hood of the SUV, immediately on alert as the black van rolled to a stop a few yards away. The headlights flickered, the engine stuttering before cutting off entirely. The driver’s door swung open, and a thin man stepped out, his posture stiff, his hands trembling at his sides.

Something was wrong.

Hanbin knew it instantly.

His body locked up, muscles coiling like a predator sensing a trap.

Yoontea didn’t waste time. “What the fuck happened?”

The driver swallowed thickly, eyes darting between the WakeOne men. “I-I don’t know—”

Hanbin ignored him. He was already moving toward the back of the van, Minjae falling into step beside him.

The air felt heavy. The tension was suffocating.

Hanbin reached for the latch and yanked it open.

Empty.

The van’s interior was pitch black, the dim glow of the port’s floodlights barely cutting through the shadows. No crates. No shipment.

Nothing. Except—

Hanbin’s blood turned to ice.

Lying there, delicate against the stark metal floor of the van, was a single blue rose.

Next to it, a small white card.

Hanbin knew before he even picked it up. Before his eyes landed on the delicate, flowing script. Before he saw the damn kiss mark in deep red ink, mocking him like a brand.

Surprise.

Hanbin felt his hands tremble.

Zhang Hao.

That smug, infuriating, bastard. A violent curse ripped from his throat as he crushed the card in his fist, breathing ragged.

Minjae peered over his shoulder. “What the hell—”

Hanbin turned on his heel so fast Minjae barely had time to react. His fist connected with the metal side of the van, the loud bang making the driver flinch back in fear.

Yoontea stormed over. “What the fuck is going on?”

Hanbin didn’t answer. His heart was pounding. His mind was spinning.

Zhang Hao had set this up. Had planned it. Had sent a fucking love letter instead of a shipment.

And worst of all? Hanbin knew exactly what it meant. He was being played. Again.

The moment Yoontea read the note, his entire demeanor darkened. His fingers crushed the card, his jaw tight as he turned to the trembling driver.

“Start talking.” His voice was low, sharp as a knife. “Why the fuck did you bring us an empty shipment?”

The driver swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the WakeOne members as if searching for an escape. “I—I didn’t have a choice,” he stammered. “The Zerose… they were watching.”

Silence.

Then, Yoontea scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. “Of course they were.”

Hanbin felt his pulse thrum against his skin, adrenaline sharp in his veins. Zhang Hao had planned this. Every damn detail. He was watching.

Somewhere in the shadows, he was watching.

Yoontea snapped his fingers, his sharp gaze sweeping over the WakeOne men. “Spread out. Now. Find them.”

The order was immediate. The group dispersed, their movements quick, weapons drawn as they fanned out across the port. Hanbin pulled his own gun from its holster, his grip steady as he moved through the maze of shipping containers. The air was thick, electric, like a storm waiting to break.

He moved with precision, keeping close to the walls, his ears tuned to every sound.

Then he heard it. A footstep behind him.

Hanbin reacted instantly. Spinning. Pinning. Pressing.

Before his mind could even catch up, Zhang Hao was slammed against the cold metal of the container, Hanbin’s forearm pressing against his throat, gun digging into his ribs.

Dark eyes. A smirk. A pretty devil in silk and leather.

Zhang Hao’s voice was velvet, smooth despite the roughness of their position. "Mm, rough tonight, baobei. I like it."

Hanbin’s breath was ragged, his heart hammering in his chest. “You think this is a joke?” he snarled, pressing harder. “You stole from us.”

Zhang Hao didn’t even flinch. If anything, his smirk deepened. “And yet, here you are, alone in the dark with me,” he purred, eyes alight with amusement. “What would Yoontea think?”

Hanbin’s grip tightened, irritation flaring hot in his chest. Zhang Hao was always like this. Always teasing, always in control.

Not this time. A voice suddenly echoed in the distance.

It was Minjae. Shit .

Hanbin acted fast, clamping a hand over Zhang Hao’s mouth, forcing him into silence.

Zhang Hao raised a brow, his eyes glittering with mischief. And then a wet, obnoxious swipe of his tongue ran across Hanbin’s palm.

Hanbin growled. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

Zhang Hao just winked, utterly unfazed.

Footsteps. Closer.

Hanbin pressed them further into the shadows, his body flush against Zhang Hao’s, his gun still pressed to his side. Minjae’s voice rang out. “Hanbin? You find anything?”

Hanbin swallowed hard, feeling Zhang Hao’s breath warm against his skin.

“Nothing,” Hanbin called back, voice steady.

Minjae lingered for a moment before his footsteps retreated. Silence settled between them.

Then, Zhang Hao let out a low chuckle.

Hanbin turned back to Zhang Hao, his grip firm. “Why?” His voice was quiet but demanding. “Why take our shipment?”

Zhang Hao tilted his head, his smile almost soft. “I needed your attention.”

Hanbin scoffed. “Bullshit.”

Zhang Hao exhaled, his eyes unreadable. “Stay safe, Hanbin-ah.”

It threw him off. A warning? From Zhang Hao?

Hanbin didn’t get a chance to process it before Zhang Hao suddenly closed the space between them.

A kiss. Hard. Deep. A searing kind of possession that sent a shiver straight through Hanbin’s core.

Hanbin tensed, his mind screaming at him to push away. But his body, his traitorous, addicted body, leaned in instead.

The scent of Zhang Hao surrounded him; sweet, pretty, and dangerous. His fingers curled into Zhang Hao’s shirt, pulling instead of pushing. Wanting. Needing.

But before he could take more Zhang Hao was gone. The warmth disappeared, the press of lips no longer there.

Hanbin opened his eyes, his breath uneven, his grip tightening on empty air.

Zhang Hao had slipped away.

“Fuck—” Hanbin surged forward, ready to chase after him, but—

“Hanbin!” Yoontea’s voice rang out.

Hanbin cursed under his breath, glancing between where Zhang Hao had disappeared and where his gang leader was calling him. He had no choice.

Grinding his teeth, he holstered his gun and made his way back.

The moment he stepped into view, Yoontea’s expression was already thunderous.

“We are not taking this lying down,” he declared, voice sharp and final. “Zerose just made a huge mistake.”

Hanbin barely heard him. His lips still tingled. And in his jacket pocket, hidden beneath layers of fabric, the collar still sat.

Back at the mansion, the atmosphere in the meeting room was thick with tension. The long mahogany table was surrounded by WakeOne’s most trusted men, Yoontea at the head, Minjae to his left, Hanbin to his right, and several foot soldiers standing by. The air smelled of cigarette smoke and gun oil, the remnants of frustration hanging in the space between them.

One of the analysts stood at the far end of the room, his laptop open, fingers flying over the keyboard before he finally spoke.

“Zerose has contacted us.”

Hanbin’s fingers curled against the armrest of his chair, his muscles stiffening. Contacted them?

“They’re requesting a meeting,” the analyst continued. “Two weeks from now, Monday night, in one of their hotels.”

The silence that followed was unnerving.

Hanbin’s mind raced, a flood of unease crashing over him. Why? Zhang Hao wasn’t the type to reach out, especially not after pulling a stunt like tonight. Was this a trap? A game? Or… something worse?

“They’re up to something,” Hanbin muttered, his fingers tapping against the table in a nervous rhythm. “Why now?”

Yoontea exhaled, rolling his shoulders back as he reached for his cigarette pack. He pulled one out, lighting it with a slow drag before speaking. “Doesn’t matter.” His voice was sharp, final. “We’ll take the bait.”

Hanbin swallowed hard.

Yoontea’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his gaze burning with something cold and lethal. “I’ll make sure Zhang Hao ends up with a bullet in his pretty head.”

The words punched through Hanbin’s chest. He forced himself to stay still, to not react.

Across the table, Minjae huffed a low chuckle, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “Before that,” he mused, lips curling into something smug, “I want a go between his legs.”

The room stilled.

Hanbin’s entire body went rigid, his hands clenching into fists as his blood boiled.

Minjae’s gaze flickered toward him, his smirk widening like he knew, like he fucking knew.

He leaned in slightly, voice dripping with mockery. “What, Hanbin? Jealous?” A pause, calculated and cruel. “Don’t worry. You can have my sloppy seconds.”

Something inside Hanbin snapped.

Before he even realised it, his chair screeched back, his body moving on pure instinct. His hand was around Minjae’s throat, slamming him against the back of his chair, hard.

The entire room tensed.

Minjae let out a strained laugh, despite the pressure against his windpipe. His fingers curled around Hanbin’s wrist, but he didn’t fight back. He didn’t need to. Because he’d already won. His smirk remained, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” he rasped, voice hoarse but smug.

Hanbin’s grip tightened, his nails digging into Minjae’s skin. “I should kill you,” he ground out, every syllable laced with fury.

Minjae only grinned. That was the problem with him. He liked pain. He liked chaos. And worst of all, he knew .

Yoontea slammed his palm down on the table. “Enough.”

Hanbin didn’t move.

“Hanbin.”

The weight behind Yoontea’s voice was enough to cut through the haze clouding his mind. With a sharp breath, Hanbin forced himself to let go, pushing off Minjae with a glare.

Minjae coughed, rubbing his throat but still wearing that damn smirk. “Touchy, touchy,” he murmured, voice rough but teasing. “Guess we all know who’s been keeping our boy here so happy lately.”

Hanbin clenched his jaw, his nails digging into his palms.

Yoontea scoffed. “Don’t cross the line, Minjae.” He warned. “Hanbin would never betray me.” 

Hanbin had to get out of there. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, ignoring Yoontea’s warnings and the way Minjae’s laughter followed him down the hall.

The moment he stepped outside, the cold night air hit him, but it did nothing to settle the storm raging inside.

He exhaled sharply, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. He was in too deep. Too deep to ignore the weight in his chest. Too deep to pretend he didn’t care.

He should be focusing on WakeOne. On his family.

But all he could think about was Zhang Hao. And how badly he wanted to protect him.

_____

Hanbin sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clenched tightly around the leather collar that lay heavy in his palm. His jaw tensed as he stared down at it, the dim glow of his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room.

No message.

For the first time since this dangerous game began, Friday had passed in silence. No hotel location. No kiss emoji. Nothing.

His chest tightened with frustration, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as he threw the collar onto the mattress beside him. Was this Zhang Hao’s way of toying with him? To make him expect something only to rip it away?

Hanbin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. He had other things to focus on. More important things.

Yoontea had been working tirelessly to prepare WakeOne for the upcoming meeting, Monday, in two weeks. Hanbin had sat through every briefing, every tactical discussion, yet his mind kept drifting to something else.

Or rather, someone else.

They were walking into Zerose’s territory, stepping into the lion’s den on Zhang Hao’s terms. A mistake, maybe. A necessity, definitely.

By the time the second Friday arrived, Hanbin’s patience was nonexistent.

He had spent the week throwing himself into training, sparring longer than usual, pushing himself harder in the gym, but nothing quenched the restlessness clawing at his insides. He had no way to reach Zhang Hao, all of the phone numbers had been burner phones. Disposable. Temporary. Just like this thing between them was supposed to be.

Except it didn’t feel temporary. It felt like a goddamn addiction.

Hanbin had just stepped out of the shower, a towel slung low on his hips, when the sharp buzz of his phone cut through the stillness of his room.

His breath hitched. He knew before even looking.

With hurried movements, he grabbed the device, flipping it over, his heartbeat hammering as his eyes scanned the screen.

Tonight .

Today was Saturday. Not Friday.

A time. A location.

No kiss emoji this time.

That shouldn’t have affected him. But it did. A thrill shot through his veins, a foreign giddiness rising in his chest, making his skin tingle.

Zhang Hao was calling for him. Finally .

Without a second thought, Hanbin moved quickly, towel discarded as he grabbed the first set of clothes within reach, a simple black hoodie and jeans. His movements were frantic, his fingers barely steady as he shoved the collar into his pocket before slipping on his boots.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, he forced himself to slow down.

He wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t.

But the moment his feet hit the marble floors of the mansion, moving past the grand staircase, his heart was pounding in anticipation.

The cool night air hit him as he stepped outside, and he barely made it two feet before an all-too-familiar voice called out.

“Where you headed, lover boy?”

Hanbin gritted his teeth before turning.

Minjae stood by the entrance, leaning lazily against the stone pillar, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The ember glowed in the darkness, briefly illuminating the smug amusement on the bastard’s face.

Hanbin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “None of your fucking business.”

Minjae exhaled a slow drag, his gaze sharp, knowing. “I think it is. Especially since our fearless leader is putting so much effort into planning a war against the Zerose, and yet, here you are…” He flicked ash onto the pavement. “Running off in the middle of the night like a dog off its leash.”

Hanbin clenched his fists. “I don’t have time for your shit, Minjae.”

“Mm,” Minjae hummed, taking another drag. “Does Yoontea know you’re slipping out for your little—” He gestured vaguely, “—late-night rendezvous?”

Hanbin scoffed, turning on his heel. “Tell him whatever the fuck you want.”

He didn’t care. Not now. Not when Zhang Hao was waiting. 

Hanbin’s motorcycle roared to life as he sped down the empty streets, weaving through the city, his grip tight around the handlebars. His blood was thrumming, a restless energy coiling in his gut.

Even when he arrived at the hotel, a WakeOne property, as always, his body was still buzzing, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

His footsteps were quick, too quick as he made his way through the familiar corridors. The hallways were grand, lined with expensive decor, but Hanbin barely noticed.

It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in one of the large windows that he paused.

What the hell was he doing? His hands curled into fists at his sides. He was acting pathetic. Like a damn fool.

He exhaled, pressing a hand against his chest, willing his pulse to slow down.

Then, with a deep breath, he straightened his posture, rolled his shoulders back, and walked.

He wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

By the time he reached the room, Hanbin’s was buzzing with excitement.  He knocked twice, his knuckles firm against the polished wood of the hotel room door.

For a brief second, there was silence. Then, the handle turned.

As the door swung open, Hanbin felt his breath hitch, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. But Zhang Hao, standing in the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the massive windows, was impossible to ignore.

The mafia leader was waiting for him.

He stood near the window, his gaze cast outward, the sprawling skyline reflecting in his sharp, knowing eyes. But what caught Hanbin’s attention, what always caught his attention, was the way the silk bed sheet was draped loosely over Zhang Hao’s bare shoulders, cascading down his toned body, barely covering anything.

Fuck.

Hanbin swallowed. He had seen Zhang Hao like this before, many times. But it didn’t matter. The sight still hit him like a punch to the gut, still left his pulse hammering in his throat.

Zhang Hao turned his head slightly, a lazily satisfied smirk curving his lips. “You’re late.”

Hanbin stepped inside without a word, kicking the door shut behind him.

There was something in the way Zhang Hao looked at him, dark, knowing, amused. It sent a thrill through Hanbin’s spine, even as irritation curled at the edges of his thoughts. Zhang Hao knew exactly what he was doing to him.

And Hanbin hated that. Hated it because he couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t resist him.

“Didn’t know you were keeping track,” Hanbin muttered, his voice lower than usual.

Zhang Hao chuckled, shifting slightly, the movement making the silk slip further down his body. “Oh, I always do, baobei.”

The pet name sent heat through Hanbin’s veins, as much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t.

Hanbin moved toward him without hesitation, his fingers already pulling at the hem of his hoodie, yanking it off in one swift motion. He didn’t stop there, his jeans, his shirt, everything. He was stripping before his brain had even processed it.

The anticipation clawed at him, urgency creeping into his every movement.

Zhang Hao watched him, amused, his lips curling into something entirely too smug. “You’re eager,” he murmured.

Hanbin barely gave him the chance to say more before he closed the distance, his hands gripping Zhang Hao’s waist, pulling him in.

Zhang Hao’s lips were glossy, parted slightly, waiting.

Hanbin kissed him. Not soft. Not slow. It was needy, all-consuming, filled with weeks of pent-up tension, frustration, longing, things Hanbin refused to put a name to. His grip tightened on Zhang Hao’s waist as he pulled him flush against his own bare skin, relishing in the way their bodies fit together.

Zhang Hao chuckled into the kiss, but it was breathless this time, like he felt it too. Like he had been waiting just as long.

And that thought, the idea that Zhang Hao wanted him just as much as he wanted Zhang Hao, only made Hanbin deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into the silk as he took.

Because in moments like this, when their bodies were pressed together, when Zhang Hao’s breath was uneven against his lips, when there was nothing but them, Hanbin could almost ignore the truth.

That he was losing himself to Zhang Hao.

Hanbin pulled back as he reached down for the collar, he clicked it around his own throat, a movement almost second nature. 

Zhang Hao watched him, his eyes dark and intense. 

"Where have you been?" Hanbin asked, his voice low and commanding.

Zhang Hao shrugged, his gaze never leaving Hanbin. "I have responsibilities, Hanbin-ah. You should know that."

Hanbin smirked, walking backwards until he was laying on the bed, his hands resting behind his head. Zhang Hao just watched him, a dark hunger in his eyes as he saw just how hard Hanbin was. 

Hanbin growled, those eyes watching him made his body set on fire. He started stroking himself, his eyes locked onto Zhang Hao.

"You're pathetic, Hanbin," Zhang Hao said, his voice dripping with desire. "Begging for it like a bitch."

Hanbin's breath hitched, he swallowed heavily as he gripped the bottom of his cock. "Please, Hao. I need to taste you. Please, let me eat you out."

Zhang Hao laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down Hanbin's spine. He sauntered towards the bed, and Hanbin heard the rattle of a chain. He glanced up, seeing handcuffs on the bedposts.

"When did you put those there?" Hanbin asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Zhang Hao smirked. "I have my ways."

He cuffed Hanbin to the bed with practiced movements, his fingers brushing against Hanbin's wrists in a way that was both intimate and possessive. Hanbin looked up at him, his eyes pleading.

"Please, Hao. Let me taste you."

Zhang Hao sighed heavily, but nodded. He moved almost gracefully, straddling Hanbin's face, his legs spreading wide. 

Hanbin’s reaction was immediate, he licked his lips before leaning forwards. Hanbin was enthusiastic, his tongue darting out to lick at Zhang Hao's entrance. 

Zhang Hao moaned loudly, his thighs trembling as Hanbin's mouth worked against him.

"F-fuck, baobei," Zhang Hao groaned, his hands gripping the bedsheet. "Your mouth feels so good."

Hanbin hummed in response, his tongue delving deeper. Saliva was running down his chin but he didn’t care how messy he was. He used his tongue to stretch Zhang Hao out, his lips closing around the pink prize and sucking. Zhang Hao tasted so good. 

“Y-your stubble…” Zhang Hao whimpered, the feel of Hanbin's stubble on his sensitive flesh was driving him insane. 

Zhang Hao tried to pull away, but Hanbin's mouth followed after him, his tongue licking and sucking at Zhang Hao's most sensitive spot. He made sure to rub his chin over the sensitive skin more, watching with greedy eyes as Zhang Hao’s pretty thighs trembled beside his face. 

Hanbin’s cock was leaking, he was enjoying himself so much, the feeling of Zhang Hao’s body convulsing above him was almost everything to drive him over the edge. 

Hanbin’s hands flexed, he wanted to hold Zhang Hao, rock him back on his face but the restraints held him in place. Zhang Hao was in charge, not Hanbin. 

Suddenly, Zhang Hao leaned over, his mouth capturing Hanbin's cock, sucking him deep into his throat.

Hanbin moaned, his hips bucking against Zhang Hao's mouth. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he got closer and closer to the edge. 

Zhang Hao started rocking back against his face, Hanbin happily obliged and sucked helplessly on Zhang Hao’s fluttering rim. 

Zhang Hao's mouth was a relentless force, sucking and licking at Hanbin's cock, his tongue swirling around the head as his fingers played with the base. 

"I'm gonna come," Hanbin gasped, his body arching off the bed. "Fuck, Zhang Hao, I'm gonna come."

Zhang Hao hummed around Hanbin's cock, the vibrations and Zhang Hao’s constant rocking against his face sending Hanbin over the edge. He came with a shout, his body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over him. Zhang Hao swallowed every drop, his mouth working Hanbin until he was spent.

Zhang Hao pulled away, his body trembling with his own need. Hanbin's tongue tried to follow but he could only move as far as his restrained hands would allow. 

The Zerose leader grabbed Hanbin's still hard cock, stroking it slowly to fill it completely, his eyes locked onto Hanbin's.

"Now it's my turn," Zhang Hao growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He climbed onto Hanbin, straddling his lap. He quickly guided Hanbin's cock into his stretched spit slicked ass, his body lowering slowly onto Hanbin. 

Hanbin groaned, his hands gripping the bed poles as Zhang Hao started to ride him.

"Fuck, Hao," Hanbin groaned. "You always feel so good."

Zhang Hao leaned forward, his hands bracing against Hanbin's chest. He started to move, his body rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Hanbin could feel every inch of Zhang Hao's ass, could feel the way Zhang Hao's body clenched around him.

"Harder," Zhang Hao groaned, his body slamming down onto Hanbin. "Fuck me properly, Hanbin-ah."

Hanbin was quick to comply, his hips thrusting up to meet Zhang Hao's downward movements. The bed creaked under their combined weight, their bodies moving in sync as they chased their pleasure.

Zhang Hao's body tensed, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm close," he gasped. "So close, baobei."

Hanbin could feel it too, could feel the way Zhang Hao's body was tightening around him. He thrust up into Zhang Hao one last time, his body convulsing as he came again, his orgasm intense and powerful.

Zhang Hao came with a shout, his body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over him. He collapsed onto Hanbin, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

As their breathing slowed, Zhang Hao leaned up, his eyes meeting Hanbin's. "Good boy," he said, his voice soft.

Hanbin smiled, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been a good boy, and he had been rewarded for it. 

Zhang Hao collapsed onto the bed beside Hanbin, making sure to reach up and undo the retains keeping Hanbin to the bed. 

Hanbin pulled his hands to his chest and could see the slight marks that had been left by the restraints. 

The room was quiet. The air between them, once filled with dirty words and breathless gasps, had settled into something softer, heavier.

Hanbin lay on his back, his arm draped lazily over his stomach, his bare skin still tingling where Zhang Hao had touched him. His breaths were steady, but his heart? His heart was anything but.

His fingers twitched, an unconscious movement, before he reached out. He didn’t even realise what he was doing until his hand found Zhang Hao’s.

Warm. Solid. Real.

Hanbin traced his thumb over Zhang Hao’s knuckles, slowly, absentmindedly. It was a small thing, something so insignificant in the grand scheme of all the chaos between them, but it sent something deep and unsettling through his chest.

He turned his head, ready to make some sarcastic remark about it. But Zhang Hao didn’t respond.

Hanbin’s brow furrowed slightly as he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at the man beside him.

His breath hitched. Zhang Hao had fallen asleep.

For a moment, Hanbin just stared. Stunned. Because Zhang Hao, the man who always had his guard up, the mafia leader who thrived on control and manipulation, had actually let himself sleep beside Hanbin.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. But it was.

Hanbin swallowed, his fingers unconsciously tightening around Zhang Hao’s hand. He must’ve been exhausted. That was the only explanation.

And yet, the sight of him, Zhang Hao’s dark lashes resting against his pretty apple cheeks, his breathing slow and steady, his body curled slightly toward Hanbin’s warmth, was enough to make something uncomfortable twist in Hanbin’s chest.

He looked so different like this. Vulnerable.

There were no teasing smirks, no sharp words, no carefully placed taunts designed to get under Hanbin’s skin.

Just Zhang Hao.

For the first time, Hanbin let himself wonder, just for a second, what it would be like if things were different. If they weren’t on opposite sides. If they weren’t tangled in a dangerous game of power and control. If they could just leave it all behind.

He could take Zhang Hao away.

Away from Zerose. Away from WakeOne. Away from all the expectations and burdens weighing them both down.

But that was a lie. One he couldn’t afford to believe in.

Hanbin let out a slow breath, shaking his head at himself. He couldn’t save Zhang Hao. And Zhang Hao sure as hell wasn’t asking to be saved.

Instead, he reached for the silk sheets pooled around them, carefully pulling them up when he noticed the slight tremor in Zhang Hao’s body.

Zhang Hao shivered, shifting slightly in his sleep, his brows furrowing. Hanbin hesitated for only a second before giving in.

He slid closer, wrapping his arm around Zhang Hao’s waist, pulling him against his chest. He pressed a lazy, almost absentminded kiss against Zhang Hao’s bare shoulder, his lips lingering for a second longer than necessary.

Zhang Hao made a small sound, barely audible, as he instinctively leaned into Hanbin’s warmth.

Hanbin sighed, closing his eyes. He was fucked.

Because despite everything, despite knowing better, he fell asleep holding Zhang Hao like he actually belonged to him.

_____

Hanbin woke up to emptiness.

The space beside him, once filled with warmth and soft, steady breaths, was now cold. The sheets were still messily tangled, the faint scent of Zhang Hao lingering in the fabric, but the man himself was gone.

Hanbin sighed heavily, dragging a hand over his face before turning his head.

His gaze landed on the collar.

It sat neatly on the bedside table, the soft leather glinting under the dim morning light. Right beside it was an envelope.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted as he reached for it.

Zhang Hao always left something behind, a mark, a message, a reminder, something to let Hanbin know that even in his absence, he was never truly gone.

The envelope was smooth beneath his fingers, his name written elegantly on the front in Zhang Hao’s distinct handwriting.

But before he could open it, his phone buzzed. Hanbin froze. Then, he saw the screen.

Missed calls: 12
Messages: 17

All from Bang Yoontea.

“Shit.”

He bolted upright, the sudden movement sending a sharp ache through his body, a reminder of the night before. Ignoring it, he quickly threw on his clothes, shoving the collar and envelope into the deep pocket of his jacket.

He barely had time to breathe before reaching for the door handle—

Only to be met with Minjae.

The man stood in the doorway, smirking.

Hanbin’s jaw tensed. “What the hell are you doing here?” Hanbin demanded, stepping forward just enough to make it clear he wasn’t in the mood for games.

Minjae cocked his head, his smirk widening as his gaze scanned Hanbin, his messy hair, the faint bruises on his skin, the marks barely hidden beneath his hoodie. 

“Had a fun night?” Minjae asked, voice dripping with amusement.

Hanbin’s expression didn’t falter. “My partner satisfied me all night long,” he shot back, tone cool and unwavering.

Minjae let out a short laugh, but his eyes held something else. Something that made Hanbin’s skin prickle. Something that told him Minjae knew.

Hanbin didn’t react, wouldn’t react. He had already given too much away.

But Minjae leaned closer, dropping his voice just enough for the words to feel like a threat. “Yoontea was worried,” he mused, tilting his head. “Had to use the GPS on your phone to track you down. Thought you might’ve gotten yourself kidnapped again.”

Hanbin’s blood ran cold. His grip tightened on the doorframe as he forced his voice to stay steady. “I don’t need anyone keeping tabs on me,” he said, his tone laced with warning.

Minjae simply shrugged, his smirk never faltering. “Just making sure your loyalties are in the right place.”

Hanbin snapped. In a flash, he grabbed Minjae by the collar, slamming him against the nearest wall. The impact sent a dull thud echoing through the hallway, but Hanbin didn’t care.

“Watch yourself,” he growled, his grip tight. “You’re crossing lines you don’t want to cross.”

Minjae didn’t flinch. If anything, he enjoyed it. “Funny,” he murmured, lips curling into a taunting smile. “I was just about to tell you the same thing.”

They stood there for a moment, locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, with a sharp shove, Hanbin released him.

Minjae straightened his shirt, brushing off the imaginary dust like Hanbin’s threat hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

Hanbin didn’t wait. He turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, his movements quick, tense, deliberate.

But the collar and envelope in his pocket? They felt heavier with every step.

The tension in the mansion was suffocating. Hanbin barely made it through the front doors before he heard Yoontea’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Hanbin stiffened. His leader stood at the top of the grand staircase, arms crossed, expression dark. Several members of WakeOne lingered nearby, pretending to mind their own business but clearly watching.

Hanbin met Yoontea’s gaze, knowing there was no excuse that would satisfy him.

Still, he tried. “I—”

“You what?” Yoontea snapped, descending the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. “You decided to disappear the night before one of the most important meetings we’ve had in months?” His voice was low but dangerous. “Do you have any idea how that looks?”

Hanbin exhaled sharply, forcing himself to remain calm. “It won’t happen again.”

Yoontea let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Damn right it won’t. Because if you fuck this up tomorrow, Hanbin, I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”

A beat of silence.

Then, softer, more warning than anger—

“Don’t let me doubt you.”

Hanbin nodded, feeling the weight of those words settle in his chest. “Understood.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away. He didn’t stop until he reached his room.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut behind him, letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. His hands raked through his hair, frustration curling in his gut like a storm. He emptied his hoodie pockets, keys, phone—

Then his eyes landed on it. The collar.

It lay on his bed, mocking him. A physical reminder of the power Zhang Hao had over him, of the choices he kept making.

Hanbin cursed under his breath before pulling the envelope from his pocket.

He hesitated. Then, carefully, he tore it open. Something fell to the floor.

Hanbin’s breath caught.

A painfully familiar, delicate silver band. A cock ring. 

He swallowed heavily, his mind instantly recalling the last time he’d seen it. The pressure of it, the way Zhang Hao had used it to drive him to the edge and then pull him back at his whim.

His fingers clenched around the note inside the envelope, unfolding it with slow, careful movements.

Zhang Hao’s handwriting stared back at him.

"If you're really a good boy, you'll wear this tomorrow. Show me who you truly belong to. My BingBing."

The note was signed with a kiss mark.

Hanbin’s thumb brushed over the smudged lip gloss stain, a traitorous warmth creeping into his chest.

He cursed again, this time softer, before reaching down and picking up the ring.

It was small, unassuming. But in Zhang Hao’s hands, it had been a weapon.

Hanbin squeezed it between his fingers, staring at it like it held the answer to a question he didn’t even know how to ask.

Because deep down, he knew. No matter how much he fought it, no matter how much he pretended. He’d wear it.

_____

The grand entrance of the Zerose hotel was bathed in warm, golden light, the polished marble floors reflecting the chandelier’s glow. It was early evening, and the lobby was bustling, guests in expensive suits checking in, women in cocktail dresses sipping champagne at the bar, businessmen murmuring in hushed tones.

The illusion of luxury and civility masked the reality that this was enemy territory.

WakeOne walked in like they owned the place, but Hanbin knew the truth.

They were walking straight into Zhang Hao’s den.

Yoontea led the way, his expression unreadable, his every step laced with purpose. Minjae walked just behind him, shoulders tense, fingers twitching like he was itching for violence. Hanbin swallowed heavily, his pulse a steady drumbeat of unease.

Zhang Hao had orchestrated this perfectly. A public setting, a crowded space, where neither side could afford to make a scene. If WakeOne had even considered an ambush, that option was off the table now.

Hanbin’s throat was dry.

Was he ready for this?

To see Zhang Hao under different circumstances, as a rival, not as the man who whispered his name against satin sheets? Before he could dwell on it, they arrived.

Gyuvin and Gunwook were waiting for them at the entrance, standing tall in their tailored suits, the emblem of Zerose embroidered in gold on their lapels.

They smiled the moment they saw him.

"Hanbin." Gyuvin’s voice was smooth, but his eyes glinted with knowing amusement. Gunwook’s smirk was just as infuriating.

Minjae noticed. Hanbin could feel it.

“We’ll take you up,” Gyuvin said, tilting his head towards the elevators. “Hao-hyung is expecting you.”

Yoontea didn’t speak, but the sharp nod he gave was enough. The ride up was silent.

Tension coiled tight in the air, thick enough to choke on. Minjae’s gaze burned into Hanbin’s side profile, his thoughts undoubtedly filled with suspicion.

Hanbin ignored him.

When the elevator doors slid open, they stepped into a lavish private suite.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the dazzling Seoul skyline, casting the room in a soft, neon glow. Plush leather chairs surrounded a sleek black table. A crystal decanter of whiskey sat untouched at the center.

Everything about it screamed Zhang Hao.

Yoontea didn’t waste time. “Where is he?” he demanded, his voice sharp as a blade.

Gyuvin and Gunwook exchanged a glance but remained silent.

Minjae exhaled, irritated. His hand moved toward his gun—

Hanbin reacted without thinking. “Not a good idea.” His voice was low, controlled.

Minjae scoffed. “You afraid for your little boyfriend?”

Hanbin ignored the jab, but Yoontea shot Minjae a warning glare. Before anyone could say another word, a door to the side opened.

And he appeared. Hanbin’s stomach tightened.

Zhang Hao walked in like a prince, his every step measured, deliberate, exuding effortless control. Ricky and Jiwoong flanked him, their presence a silent but clear display of power.

But Hanbin’s gaze was locked onto Zhang Hao alone. The Zerose leader was breathtakingly gorgeous.

Dressed in a silk burgundy shirt, the top few buttons undone, teasing glimpses of smooth, porcelain skin. The fabric clung to his frame, the rich colour bringing out the deep brown of his doe-like eyes. A delicate gold chain rested against his collarbone, catching the light with every slow, deliberate movement.

His black slacks fit too well, hugging his waist perfectly, accentuating the graceful lines of his body. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up just enough to reveal the faintest glimpse of his veins, the subtle strength in his forearms.

Zhang Hao looked like sin personified.

And he didn’t even glance at Hanbin.

His full attention was on Yoontea as he gestured to the chair across from him.

“Sit.”

The single word held undeniable authority.

Yoontea didn’t hesitate.

The two leaders sat across from each other, the space between them crackling with unspoken tension. Hanbin stood to Yoontea’s right, a silent shadow, trying to steady his breathing.

Because Zhang Hao hadn’t acknowledged him once.

As if last night hadn’t happened. As if he hadn’t left Hanbin alone in bed with a collar and a fucking cock ring.

Yoontea leaned forward, his eyes sharp, his voice cutting through the quiet like a dagger. “Let’s not waste time, Zhang Hao. You called us here. So start talking.”

Zhang Hao said nothing. Not yet. He simply watched. Listened. Like a predator assessing its prey.

The air in the room was thick with tension, the kind that coiled tight in the chest, suffocating, pressing against the ribs. The quiet stretched between the two leaders, an invisible battle of wills waged in the space between them.

Yoontea was the first to break it.

His hands rested flat against the sleek black table, fingers curling slightly as he leaned forward, his dark eyes burning with barely concealed rage.

“Enough with the theatrics, Zhang Hao. You called us here. Start talking.”

His voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Zhang Hao, in contrast, remained unshaken. He sat with an ease that made the entire exchange feel like a game to him, one he had no intention of losing. His fingers traced the rim of the untouched whiskey glass in front of him, his expression unreadable.

“So impatient.” Zhang Hao’s voice was smooth, his lips curving slightly as he finally looked up.

Not at Hanbin. At Yoontea. Like Hanbin wasn’t even there.

It was infuriating.

Yoontea’s jaw ticked. “You stole from us. You intercepted our shipment. I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, but let’s make one thing clear—” He leaned in, his voice dropping to something dangerous. “You won’t win.”

Zhang Hao listened intently, his eyes never leaving Yoontea's face. 

Hanbin felt a sudden jolt, a vibration that sent a shockwave through his body. He looked down, his eyes widening as he realised what was happening. The cock ring he wore was vibrating, and it was Zhang Hao who held the remote.

Hanbin tried to maintain his composure, but the sensation was overwhelming. He could feel the vibrations increasing, his cock throbbing beneath his pants. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. 

Minjae noticed his discomfort and looked at him curiously. Hanbin met his gaze briefly before looking away, his focus returning to Zhang Hao.

The vibrations stopped as suddenly as they had begun, leaving Hanbin on the edge of his sanity. He looked at Zhang Hao, his eyes pleading silently for more. 

Zhang Hao simply smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips that sent a shiver down Hanbin's spine. 

The sharp sound of flesh meeting wood echoed through the room as Yoontea’s hand slammed against the table. His patience had finally worn thin.

“You think I’d ever agree to a fucking alliance with you? You’re out of your damn mind.” His glare burned into Zhang Hao, but the Zerose leader merely leaned back in his chair, exuding an aura of unbothered arrogance.

Hanbin hadn’t even been keeping up with the conversation, he was slowly losing his touch and all because of a damn cock ring. 

Zhang Hao smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Mm. That’s rich, coming from the man who started all of this.”

“Started this?” Yoontea sneered. “I wasn’t the one who intercepted a shipment that wasn’t mine. I wasn’t the one who stole people.”

The tension in the room thickened.

Hanbin felt his stomach drop just before Zhang Hao’s gaze slowly turned to him.

It was intense. Searching. Amused.

“Stole, is it?” Zhang Hao raised a perfectly shaped brow, his dark eyes flickering over Hanbin’s face. “Funny. I don’t recall taking anything that didn’t already belong to me.”

Hanbin’s breath caught. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him now.

Minjae’s sharp gaze, Gunwook’s curiosity, Ricky’s barely veiled smirk. Even Jiwoong looked mildly interested.

He could feel the heat rising to his face, and Zhang Hao knew it. His smirk widened, like he could taste Hanbin’s discomfort.

Yoontea scoffed, turning back to Zhang Hao. “Hanbin is WakeOne. He’s loyal to me. If I told him to put a bullet in your head right now, he’d do it.”

Zhang Hao didn’t even flinch. Instead, he let out a soft, amused scoff.

“Would he?” His gaze flickered back to Hanbin, lips curving into something dangerous. “Tell me, Sung Hanbin… would you?”

Hanbin opened his mouth, to say something, anything— but then— His knees nearly buckled.

A shock of pleasure rolled up his spine, white-hot and devastating, forcing him to grip the edge of the table for support. He bit his lip hard to keep in a noise, but the ghost of a moan still slipped out.

Fuck .

Zhang Hao had activated the ring again. 

Yoontea frowned, turning to Hanbin. “You good?”

Hanbin forced himself to straighten. He hated how Zhang Hao’s smirk deepened. “Fine,” Hanbin muttered, swallowing hard. He couldn’t let Yoontea suspect anything.

Zhang Hao watched him with pure amusement before, just as suddenly as it started, the vibrations stopped again.

Hanbin had to clench his jaw to keep from groaning in frustration. His body missed it. Fucking hell. Zhang Hao was playing him like a damn instrument.

But there was no time to think about that, because Yoontea was pushing the conversation forward, growing more aggressive.

The tension in the room was ready to snap.

“This isn’t a negotiation, Zhang Hao.” Yoontea’s voice was dangerously low. “This is me telling you to get the fuck out of WakeOne’s territory before I put a bullet in that pretty head of yours.”

A beat of silence. Then Zhang Hao exhaled through his nose, a mocking little laugh.

“As much as I appreciate the concern for my head, I don’t take orders from you, Yoontea.” His lips curved. “Or from anyone else.”

The threat was clear.

Yoontea stood abruptly, adjusting his suit. “Then this conversation is over.”

Without another word, he turned and nodded to his men. WakeOne filed out of the room, but as Hanbin followed, he couldn’t help himself.

He glanced back. And that was his first mistake.

Because Zhang Hao was already watching him. And then, he blew him a kiss.

Hanbin swallowed heavily and quickly turned away. Fuck.

Yoontea led them deeper into the hotel, past red velvet-lined hallways until they reached a private club. He looked extremely pissed off. 

The scent of cigarettes, expensive perfume, and alcohol filled the air. The dim lighting and sultry jazz music only added to the atmosphere, and Hanbin could already tell why they were here.

There were dancing girls on poles, scantily clad servers weaving through the room with expensive bottles of liquor.

Yoontea leaned back against the plush couch, a smirk curling on his lips. “Since we’re already here, let’s have some fun.”

The WakeOne men exchanged hesitant looks. They knew this was Zerose territory. But Yoontea only scoffed.

“Relax. Zhang Hao isn’t stupid enough to make a move.”

Hanbin wasn’t convinced. But more than that… he was restless.

He tried not to look for Zhang Hao.

Tried to focus on the dancers, on the drinks, on anything but the weight in his pocket and the rock hard cock in his pants. 

Zhang Hao’s presence was everywhere, even when he wasn’t in the room. And Hanbin hated it.

Which is why, after a few hours of enduring it and making sure all the other WakeOne members were distracted, he slipped away. 

The halls of the hotel were quiet, illuminated by soft golden lights that reflected off the polished floors.

Hanbin stalked through them, his heart pounding, not from fear. From something worse.

And then— A jolt of pleasure.

Hanbin choked on a breath, lurching forward as the ring activated again. It was stronger this time.

His knees nearly buckled as he gritted his teeth, one hand shooting out to press against the wall for support.

“F-fuck—”

Before he could recover, a hand grabbed him. Hanbin was suddenly yanked into a room, the door slamming shut behind him.

He spun around, ready to fight, only to come face to face with Zhang Hao.

The Zerose leader stood there, arms crossed, lips curled into a smug smirk. Hanbin’s breath hitched.

Zhang Hao took a slow, deliberate step closer. Then another. Hanbin’s back hit the desk. Nowhere to run.

Zhang Hao tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come looking for me.”

Hanbin’s fists clenched. He wanted to curse him out. Wanted to kiss him senseless.

But before he could decide which, Zhang Hao leaned in. His breath ghosting over Hanbin’s lips as he whispered, mocking and sweet— “Did you miss me, Bingbing?”

Hanbin swallowed heavily before he gave Zhang Hao a dark glare. "You can't just play with me like that," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. 

Zhang Hao simply smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And what are you going to do about it, baobei?" he asked, his voice a purr. 

Hanbin stepped closer, his body pressing against Zhang Hao's. He could feel the heat radiating from him, could see the desire in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Zhang Hao's ear.

"I'm going to fuck you, so hard you’ll feel me for weeks," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. 

Zhang Hao shivered, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before opening again. He nodded, a slow, sensual movement that sent a jolt of desire through Hanbin.

He reached out, his hands cupping Zhang Hao's face as he leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met, a soft, gentle touch that quickly deepened into something more. Hanbin's tongue slipped into Zhang Hao's mouth, exploring, tasting. 

Zhang Hao moaned, his body pressing against Hanbin's as he kissed him back.

Hanbin's hands moved down, his fingers unbuttoning Zhang Hao's shirt slowly. 

He pushed it off his shoulders, his eyes taking in the expanse of skin before him. He leaned down, his lips finding Zhang Hao's nipple. He sucked on it, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as Zhang Hao moaned above him.

He moved lower, his hands unbuckling Zhang Hao's belt and pulling down his pants. His cock sprang free, hard and ready. Hanbin looked up at Zhang Hao, a wicked smile on his face. He leaned in, his tongue licking the length of Zhang Hao's cock before taking it into his mouth.

Hanbin kept eye contact with Zhang Hao as he took his cock in his mouth, the Zerose leader didn’t look away. Zhang Hao moaned, his hands fisting in Hanbin's hair as he thrust his hips forward. Hanbin took him deep, his throat working as he sucked. He could feel Zhang Hao's cock hitting the back of his throat, could taste the pre-come leaking from the tip. He moaned around Zhang Hao's cock, the vibrations sending Zhang Hao into a frenzy.

Hanbin pulled back, his lips popping off Zhang Hao's cock with a wet sound. He looked up at him, a wicked smile on his face. "You taste amazing," he said, his voice a low growl. 

Zhang Hao smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

Hanbin stood, his hands going to his own pants. He unzipped them, his cock springing free, it was dark and leaking. 

The cock ring was tight around the base. He moved towards the divan, lying down on his back. He looked at Zhang Hao, his eyes dark with desire. "Come here," he said, his voice a command.

Zhang Hao narrowed his eyes slightly but obeyed, climbing onto the divan and straddling Hanbin's hips. He reached down, his hand wrapping around Hanbin's cock. He stroked it slowly, his eyes locked with Hanbin's. Hanbin groaned, his hips thrusting up into Zhang Hao's touch. Zhang Hao instantly reached for the remote and made the vibrations start up again. Hanbin moaned as his cock was assaulted by vibrations. 

Zhang Hao positioned himself above Hanbin, lowering himself slowly onto Hanbin's cock. Hanbin groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt the heat of Zhang Hao's body surrounding him. He was stretched and lubed already. 

“I fingered myself open for you, baobei,” Zhang Hao purred. 

Hanbin groaned heavy in the room. Feeling Zhang Hao trembling, the vibrations of the cock ring making Hanbin’s thick cock drill his insides.

Hanbin looked up at Zhang Hao, his eyes filled with desire. "Ride me," he said, his voice a dark groan.

Zhang Hao smirked, his body moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Hanbin watched, his eyes locked on the sight of Zhang Hao's body moving above him. He could feel the sensation building, could feel his orgasm approaching. He reached up, his hands gripping Zhang Hao's hips as he thrust up into him.

Zhang Hao moaned, his body moving faster, his hips slamming down onto Hanbin's. Hanbin could feel the pleasure building, could feel his body tensing as he neared the edge. 

He looked up at Zhang Hao, his eyes locked with his as he whimpered, “Come, I-I need to come.”

Zhang Hao leaned down, biting Hanbin’s bottom lip and pulling on it playfully as he continued bouncing on Hanbin’s straining cock, “I’m almost there, baobei,” he gasped.

Hanbin kept a strong hold on him, his head thrown back and his muscles clenching, awaiting his release. Hanbin’s eyes were focused on the beautiful man above him as Zhang Hao moaned, his insides spasming around Hanbin’s hot cock, his release painting Hanbin’s stomach.

The feel of Zhang Hao clenching around him made Hanbin cry out, “Please! Hao, let me come!”

Zhang Hao chuckled as he carefully pulled Hanbin’s cock out of himself, he sat back on the divan and quickly grabbed Hanbin’s leaking cock. “So pathetic,” he taunted as he stroked the aching length.

Hanbin was thrusting into Zhang Hao’s hand uncontrollably, his body was strung tight, in need of release. Zhang Hao gave the tip of his cock a gentle kiss before he pulled the ring free, “Good boy.”

Hanbin yelped as he came, his body shuddering with the force of his release. Zhang Hao continued stroking his spent cock, milking every last drop out until Hanbin could take no more. “E-enough,” he whimpered. 

Zhang Hao chuckled before his warm body melted against Hanbin’s chest, his breath still uneven, fingers loosely gripping Hanbin’s arms. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Their bodies were still entwined, skin sticky with sweat, but Hanbin didn’t care. He held Zhang Hao tightly, possessively, as if he could keep him there forever.

Zhang Hao let out a small, contented hum, nuzzling into Hanbin’s neck.

Hanbin closed his eyes, savoring it. He didn’t want to leave. But he had to.

With a reluctant sigh, Hanbin murmured, “I have to go.”

Zhang Hao didn’t respond.

Hanbin gently pulled back, brushing damp strands of hair from Zhang Hao’s forehead. “If they notice I’m missing—”

Zhang Hao suddenly pulled away. The warmth vanished in an instant.

Before Hanbin could even register what was happening, Zhang Hao was already standing, grabbing his clothes and dressing quickly.

Hanbin sat up, confused. “Hao?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

Zhang Hao’s movements were precise, almost robotic. He buttoned up his shirt, his jaw tight.

Hanbin swallowed, his chest tightening. Why was Zhang Hao acting like this?

“Hao.” He called again.

This time, Zhang Hao stopped.

For a moment, he didn’t turn around. He just stood there, his back to Hanbin, fingers clenched into fists.

Then, slowly, he turned. Hanbin’s breath caught.

Zhang Hao’s eyes looked almost pained. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Then, finally— “Decide where your loyalties truly lie, Hanbin.”

His voice was quiet. Unusually so. He’d called Hanbin’s name with no familiarity. Then, without another word, he left the room.

The door clicked shut behind him. Hanbin sat there, stunned.

Zhang Hao had never acted like that before. What the hell had just happened? His gaze flickered down.

The ring and the remote sat on the nightstand. Zhang Hao had left them behind.

Hanbin stared at them for a long moment before reaching out, almost instinctively. He picked up the ring, turning it over in his fingers before pocketing both items.

He didn’t have time to dwell on what it meant. He needed to get back before someone noticed.

Hanbin slipped back into the club just in time. The other WakeOne members were already gathering to leave.

He straightened his shirt, ran a hand through his hair, trying to make himself look less disheveled. But the moment he joined the group, he felt a sharp gaze on him.

Minjae.

The man’s eyes narrowed immediately, scanning him like he was picking apart a puzzle.

“Where the hell did you disappear to?” Minjae asked, voice laced with suspicion.

Hanbin shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “Needed air.”

Minjae’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Air?” He took a deliberate step closer, inhaling deeply.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted.

Fuck. He probably still smelled like Zhang Hao.

Minjae’s lips curled knowingly, but before he could say anything, Yoontea’s voice cut through the tension.

“Enough. Let’s move.”

Minjae’s smirk widened, but he didn’t push further.

Hanbin exhaled slowly, following the others toward the exit.

They stepped outside into the cool night air. The tension from the meeting still lingered, but Hanbin could feel the shift in atmosphere.

Yoontea, however, was still watching him. The leader was quiet as they walked, but just as they reached the cars, he suddenly grabbed Hanbin by the front of his shirt.

Hanbin barely had time to react before he was jerked forward, their faces inches apart.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Yoontea’s eyes were sharp, piercing. “You think I didn’t see the way Zhang Hao was fluttering his damn eyes at you?”

Hanbin’s blood ran cold. He forced himself to stay calm, his expression neutral. “It wasn’t like that.”

Yoontea let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t bullshit me.” His grip tightened. “I know how he works. I know how he manipulates.”

Hanbin ground his teeth. He knew this would eventually come crashing down. 

Yoontea leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower. “I have the perfect task for you, Hanbin.”

Hanbin stilled.

Yoontea’s lips curled into something cold, sharp, final.

“Kill Zhang Hao.”

_____

Hanbin sat on the edge of his bed, his head bowed slightly, his fingers gripping his thighs as he tried to steady his breathing. The familiar weight of his all-black assassin gear clung to his body, a second skin he had worn countless times before, but tonight it felt different. Heavier.

Usually, when Yoontea gave him an order, he would execute it without hesitation, without thought, without question. That was what it meant to be WakeOne’s most trusted soldier. That was what it meant to be Yoontea’s right hand.

But now… Now, he hesitated.

His gaze drifted to the objects strewn across his bed. The collar. The ring. Hanbin had never misplaced them, not once. But his dagger, his most trusted weapon, gifted to him by Bang Yoontea, was gone.

He didn’t even remember when he had lost it.

Hanbin exhaled sharply, forcing those thoughts aside. He stood, reaching for the collar and tucking it into his pocket, his fingers lingering on the leather material for a moment before he did the same with the ring, placing it in the other pocket.

His hands reached for his gun next, securing it at his hip. He knew exactly where to go.

The mansion was silent as Hanbin made his way through the halls, the faint echo of his boots against the polished floors the only sound accompanying him. He moved with purpose, but inside, his thoughts were a storm.

By the time he reached Yoontea’s office, he had steeled his expression into something unreadable.

Inside, Yoontea sat behind his grand mahogany desk, fingers interlaced in front of him, his piercing gaze immediately landing on Hanbin the moment he stepped inside. Minjae leaned casually against a nearby chair, a cigarette lazily hanging from his fingers, exhaling a slow drag of smoke as he took in Hanbin’s attire.

All black. A ghost in the night. A man sent to kill.

“Good.” Yoontea’s voice was smooth, almost pleased as he nodded at Hanbin’s appearance. “That’s what I like to see. My best assassin, dressed for war.”

Minjae smirked, tilting his head. “Guess we’ll finally be rid of Zerose’s little prince.”

Hanbin kept his face blank. “I will try my best to complete the mission.” His voice came out steady, measured, but even he could hear the slight hesitation behind it.

Minjae noticed too. His smirk widened, the amusement in his dark eyes growing sharper. “Try?” He let the word roll off his tongue mockingly. “That’s not exactly the kind of certainty we’re looking for. You either finish the job, or don’t bother coming back.”

A flicker of anger shot through Hanbin. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides.

“Enough, Minjae.” Yoontea’s voice was calm but firm, his sharp gaze flicking to Hanbin once more. “Hanbin has never failed me before.”

Hanbin’s jaw tightened. That wasn’t entirely true. He had failed. He had let Zhang Hao slip through his fingers time and time again.

And he knew that if he was given another chance, he would let it happen all over again.

Yoontea stood, walking around the desk until he was standing in front of Hanbin, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “I trust you.” His voice was quieter now, gentler. “WakeOne is your home, always. Even if you disappoint me.”

Hanbin froze. A sharp, painful spike of rejection stabbed through his chest.

Yoontea… didn’t trust him anymore. At least, not completely.

Hanbin swallowed thickly, forcing his emotions down, locking them away where they couldn’t be seen. He lifted his chin slightly, meeting Yoontea’s gaze with steady resolve.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

He didn’t know if he was lying or not.

Hanbin straddled his motorbike, the leather of his gloves tightening as he gripped the handlebars. The familiar hum of the engine beneath him should have brought him focus, should have cleared his thoughts.

But his mind was a whirlwind. The weight of his gun sat heavy against his hip. The weight of the collar and the ring in his pockets felt even heavier.

He revved the engine once, twice, before taking off into the night.

The city blurred past him in a streak of neon lights and darkness as Hanbin pushed his bike to its limits, weaving through the streets with reckless speed. The hum of the engine vibrated through his bones, but it couldn’t drown out the pounding in his chest. Every turn brought him closer to his destination, closer to the point of no return.

By the time the gates of the Zerose Mansion loomed before him, he didn’t hesitate.

Hanbin killed the engine, stepping off the bike in one smooth motion. The moment his boots hit the pavement, the click of safety releases filled the night air. The muzzle of at least a dozen guns were suddenly trained on him, sleek barrels glinting under the dim golden glow of the mansion's exterior lighting.

Hanbin didn’t even flinch. He had expected this. His footsteps were deliberate, measured, unhurried as he strode forward, the weight of their hostility pressing down on him. He ignored the guns. Ignored the tension in the air. Ignored the fact that this could very well be the last mistake he ever made.

At the mansion entrance, two figures waited.

Jiwoong and Ricky.

Both of them looked less than impressed.

Jiwoong’s arms were crossed, his sharp eyes calculating as he assessed Hanbin, while Ricky merely scoffed, the usual cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jiwoong asked, voice steady but carrying the weight of authority.

Hanbin's gaze didn't waver. "I need to see Zhang Hao."

Ricky let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Of course, you do." He exhaled, shaking his head, eyes filled with nothing but amusement. "You really are such a lapdog, aren’t you? You come running the second your master whistles."

Hanbin’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but he didn’t take the bait.

Jiwoong studied him for a long moment before exhaling sharply. "Fine. But first—your gun."

Hanbin hesitated for only a second before reaching to his hip and handing it over.

Jiwoong took the weapon without breaking eye contact, then gestured toward the grand staircase behind him. “Come on.”

The interior of the Zerose mansion was nothing like WakeOne’s.

Where WakeOne was cold, clinical, built like a fortress meant to intimidate, Zerose was warm, lived-in. The decor was refined, elegant in a way that felt effortless. Soft golden lighting bathed the space, casting warm shadows along the dark oak walls and expensive furnishings. Art lined the corridors, real, priceless pieces, not just decorations meant to flaunt wealth. It felt like a place someone actually called home.

It felt like Zhang Hao’s home.

Hanbin didn’t know why that realisation made his chest ache.

Jiwoong stopped at the entrance to a long, dimly lit corridor, tilting his head toward the door at the very end. "He's in there." His voice was impassive, but something in his gaze seemed to be measuring Hanbin. Judging him.

Hanbin nodded. “Thank you.”

Jiwoong said nothing in return.

As Hanbin began to walk down the hallway, his fingers instinctively reached into his pocket, wrapping around the familiar fabric of the collar. It felt warm from his touch, comforting.

He had made his choice the moment he came here.

Hanbin hesitated only for a second before pushing the door open.

The bedroom was beautiful, unexpectedly so. A large window dominated the far wall, floor-to-ceiling glass that overlooked the sprawling city below. The view was breathtaking, the twinkling lights of Seoul stretching endlessly into the horizon, casting a soft glow into the room. The curtains were only partially drawn, allowing the moonlight to spill inside.

The bed was huge, king-sized with deep blue silk sheets that shimmered under the dim lighting. It was slightly rumpled, like someone had been laying there just moments before. Dark velvet pillows were scattered across it, matching the colour scheme of the room.

To the right, a sleek mahogany desk sat near the window, stacked neatly with papers, an untouched glass of whiskey resting beside them. A single chair was tucked beneath it, the kind that invited long nights spent working.

In the corner, a luxurious armchair sat near a fireplace, draped with a plush cashmere throw. There were books stacked on the side table next to it, not decorative books, but ones that had been read, worn at the edges. 

Everything about the room felt so… Zhang Hao.

Elegant, refined, yet secretly comfortable. A contradiction. A mystery. A trap.

Zhang Hao stood in the center of the dimly lit bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest, the smooth fabric of his black silk robe draping effortlessly over his frame. The way the moonlight hit him made him look almost untouchable, dangerous. His dark eyes burned into Hanbin’s, filled with something unreadable, something lethal.

Hanbin had the overwhelming sense that he had been waiting for him all along.

"I know why you're here." His voice was calm, steady. 

Hanbin didn’t speak. He simply held out the collar that had become both his shackle and his comfort, and threw it onto the floor at Zhang Hao’s feet. The soft thud of leather hitting the hardwood felt deafening in the silence that followed.

Zhang Hao’s expression barely changed, but Hanbin saw the flicker of something behind his carefully constructed mask, a brief moment of sadness. Rejection.

Hanbin swallowed thickly, his throat tight. "I want to be free."

Zhang Hao was quiet for a long time. Then, he let out a quiet laugh, low and bitter.

"You think freedom exists for people like us?" Zhang Hao uncrossed his arms, and for the first time, Hanbin saw what was in his hand.

His dagger. His missing dagger.

Hanbin stiffened. He hadn’t even realised it was gone until earlier that night, and yet, Zhang Hao had it. Had been holding onto it.

Zhang Hao twirled the dagger once between his fingers before his gaze met Hanbin’s, sharp and unrelenting. Then, without hesitation, he tossed it.

The blade landed just inches from Hanbin’s feet, gleaming ominously under the dim glow of the room.

"Then choose, Sung Hanbin." Zhang Hao’s voice was almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of something far heavier. “Your loyalty. Your freedom. Me. WakeOne. Pick."

Hanbin stared at the dagger, heart pounding. Then, he moved.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the blade and lunged.

Zhang Hao’s eyes widened, just slightly, as Hanbin slammed him backward onto the bed, forcing him down with all the strength in his body. The mattress dipped under their combined weight, the silk sheets rustling beneath them as Hanbin pinned Zhang Hao down, gripping his wrists and holding him in place.

Zhang Hao was staring up at him now, eyes blown wide with surprise. He had expected Hanbin to attack, but he hadn’t expected… this.

The dagger lay forgotten between them, slipping from Hanbin’s grasp as he shifted his weight, pressing Zhang Hao deeper into the mattress.

The silence stretched, thick with tension, their breaths heavy in the stillness of the room.

Then, before Zhang Hao could speak, Hanbin leaned down, and kissed him.

The moment their lips met, something snapped. The kiss was hungry, desperate, consuming. Like a battle. Like a surrender. Zhang Hao let out a quiet noise of surprise, his body tensing beneath Hanbin’s weight before his lips parted willingly, giving in.

Hanbin groaned against him, deepening the kiss, pressing harder, claiming.

His hands released Zhang Hao’s wrists, trailing down to grip his pinched waist instead, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin silk of his robe. Zhang Hao’s fingers curled into Hanbin’s shirt, clutching him, pulling him closer.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, flushed, raw, Zhang Hao was the first to speak. His voice was hoarse, almost disbelieving. "Why now?"

Hanbin stared down at him, eyes dark, lips swollen from the kiss. His thumb caressed Zhang Hao's cheek, his eyes never leaving his. "I'm addicted to you, Zhang Hao. I can't fight it anymore."

Hanbin's touch was slow and gentle, his lips trailing down Zhang Hao's neck, nipping and sucking. Zhang Hao squirmed beneath him, his breath hitching as Hanbin's hand slipped under his shirt, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles.

"Hanbin-ah," Zhang Hao moaned, his hips bucking against Hanbin's. “Don’t tease me."

Hanbin smiled against his skin, his hand moving lower, fingers brushing against the bulge in Zhang Hao's pants. "I want you to feel everything, Hao. I want you to remember this forever."

Hanbin's fingers deftly unbuttoned Zhang Hao's slacks, pushing them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, hard and ready. Hanbin looked at it, a sense of awe and desire washing over him. He leaned down, his tongue swirling around the tip before taking Zhang Hao into his mouth.

Zhang Hao let out a low groan, his fingers tangling in Hanbin's hair. "Hanbinnie... yes..." Hanbin sucked harder, his head bobbing up and down as he took Zhang Hao deeper into his throat.

He was careful, all his movements precise and made Zhang Hao feel everything. Hanbin’s tongue ran over the underside of the pretty cock whilst his hands grabbed Zhang Hao’s thighs, spreading his legs. 

Hanbin made sure to get Zhang Hao super wet, he didn’t know where the lube was so he knew that his saliva and Zhang Hao’s pre-come would have to do. 

Hanbin’s saliva ran down Zhang Hao’s perineum, towards his fluttering hole. 

“Hanbinnie, it’s like you were born to suck my cock,” Zhang Hao moaned softly, his back arching off the bed and his cock sliding further down Hanbin’s throat. 

Hanbin relaxed his throat, keeping Zhang Hao’s attention on his lips before his fingers massaged over his pretty pink rim. He was able to thrust two spit-slick fingers inside and he heard Zhang Hao moan in response. 

Hanbin sucked and scissored, getting Zhang Hao ready to take his fat cock. Hanbin was already thrusting against the bedsheets, his own desire mounting. He needed to fill Zhang Hao, it was like he was possessed to do so. 

Zhang Hao’s eyes were dangerous as he watched Hanbin, his hips fucking into Hanbin’s throat. “Look at you, baobei,” Zhang Hao’s fingers swept away some hair that had fallen into Hanbin’s handsome face. “Humping my bed like a bitch in heat.” 

Hanbin moaned around Zhang Hao’s cock, he was now three fingers deep into the beautiful man. Zhang Hao was tilting his ass back onto Hanbin’s fingers and then thrusting his cock into Hanbin’s mouth. Hanbin could only lay there and take what he was given, it felt amazing. 

After what felt like hours, Hanbin pulled away, leaving Zhang Hao panting and itching for release. 

Hanbin stood up, quickly shedding his own clothes before climbing onto the bed, settling between Zhang Hao's spread legs. He leaned down, their lips meeting again as he slowly pushed into him.

Zhang Hao tensed, a hiss escaping his lips. Hanbin stilled, his forehead resting against Zhang Hao's. "Relax, Hao," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Let me in."

Hanbin's fingers found Zhang Hao's cock, stroking him slowly as he waited for Zhang Hao to relax. He could feel Zhang Hao's muscles loosening around him, his breath evening out. He started to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed as Zhang Hao's moans grew louder.

"Baobei... yes... like that..." Zhang Hao gasped, his hips meeting Hanbin's thrust for thrust.

Hanbin could feel his own orgasm building, but he held back, wanting to draw out their pleasure. He pulled out suddenly, hearing Zhang Hao growl at him, before he flipped Zhang Hao onto his stomach and pushed back in. 

Zhang Hao let out a low moan, his hands fisting the sheets. "Deeper, Hanbinnie... deeper..." Zhang Hao demanded, pushing back against him. 

Hanbin obliged, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. He could feel Zhang Hao's muscles clenching around him, could hear the wet sounds of their bodies coming together.

"Hao... I'm close..." Hanbin groaned, his body tensing.

"Come for me, Hanbin... come inside me..." Zhang Hao moaned, his own orgasm crashing over him. Hanbin let out a low growl, his body shuddering as he came, his release spilling into Zhang Hao.

Exhausted, they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat. Hanbin pulled Zhang Hao close, their hearts beating in sync. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, their breaths slowly evening out. 

Hanbin could feel his eyes flutter shut, he only intended to rest but somehow he must’ve fallen asleep. Hanbin woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. 

He attempted to sit up, only to find himself restrained to the bed, his wrists secured to the headboard by soft, comfortable cuffs. 

A slight smile touched his lips as he felt the familiar buzz of his cock ring, wrapped tightly around his base, a symbol of his submission to Zhang Hao.

As his vision adjusted to the dim lighting, he saw Zhang Hao standing at the foot of the bed, Hanbin's own dagger held loosely in his hand. The blade glinted menacingly in the soft glow of the nearby lamp. 

Zhang Hao's eyes met Hanbin's gaze, and he smirked. "Let's play, Baobei."

Hanbin's cock throbbed at the sight of him, the tightness of his vibrating cock ring a constant reminder of his arousal. He squirmed slightly, testing the bonds that held him, and felt a surge of desire as he realised he was at Zhang Hao's mercy. "Yes," he whispered, his voice thick with anticipation.

Zhang Hao took a step closer, the dagger still held in his hand. He ran the tip of the blade gently along Hanbin's thigh, the metal cold against his skin. Hanbin's breath hitched, and he arched his back slightly, offering himself to Zhang Hao. 

"You like that, don't you, Baobei?" Zhang Hao asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like feeling helpless."

Hanbin nodded, his eyes locked onto Zhang Hao's. "Yes, Hao, I live for it."

Zhang Hao smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Hanbin's in a soft, teasing kiss. Hanbin moaned softly, his body aching with need. But Zhang Hao pulled back, leaving him wanting more. 

"Patience, Baobei," he murmured. "We have all night."

Hanbin whimpered, his body writhing against the bonds as he sought friction. Zhang Hao chuckled, the sound dark and full of promise. He trailed the dagger up Hanbin's chest, the blade nicking his skin slightly, leaving a thin line of blood. Hanbin hissed, his cock throbbing in response to the pain.

"You're so beautiful like this, Baobei," Zhang Hao said, his voice rough with desire. "So easy, so vulnerable." He leaned down, his tongue lapping at the blood on Hanbin's chest, cleaning the wound with gentle flicks of his tongue. Hanbin moaned, his body arching into the touch.

Zhang Hao continued his exploration, the dagger tracing patterns on Hanbin's skin, the metal leaving a trail of sensation in its wake. He circled Hanbin's nipples with the tip of the blade, making him squirm and gasp. 

"Please," Hanbin begged. "Hao, please, I need you."

Zhang Hao smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. Zhang Hao climbed onto the bed, his body covering Hanbin's as he leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Hanbin moaned, his body arching up into the touch as their tongues met and danced. Zhang Hao broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Hanbin's neck, his teeth nipping and biting at the sensitive skin.

Hanbin felt Zhang Hao's hand between his legs, the fingers stroking his sensitive cock. He moaned, his hips bucking up into the touch. "Please, Hao," he begged again. "I need to feel you, I need to be inside you."

Zhang Hao chuckled, stroking him slowly, his thumb circling the head, spreading the pre-come that had leaked from the slit. The vibrations were constant, a low buzz but enough to keep Hanbin’s cock red and bursting. 

Hanbin squirmed, his body aching for more. "Please," he begged, his voice a desperate plea. "I can't take it anymore."

Zhang Hao smiled, his fingers leaving Hanbin's cock to trail down to the vibrating cock ring. He pressed a button, and the vibrations intensified, making Hanbin's cock jerk and twitch in response. Hanbin moaned, his body writhing as the pleasure coursed through him.

"You like that, don't you, Baobei?" Zhang Hao asked, his voice a low purr. "You like me being in control."

Hanbin nodded, his body arching into the touch. "Yes, fuck yes. Only you."

Zhang Hao leaned over him, the dagger now hovering over Hanbin’s cock. “Beg for it,” he commanded, his breath hot on Hanbin’s ear.

Hanbin’s breathing hitched, his cock aching with need. “Please, Hao,” he begged. “I need it. I need you.”

Zhang Hao smiled, a wicked curve of his lips. He turned the vibrations on the cock ring up again, making Hanbin buck his hips and arch his back. “There you go, Baobei,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Feel it. Does it feel good, baobei?” 

Hanbin’s thighs were trembling and he could only nod in response. He was so hard, desperate for release. 

Zhang Hao moved with precision grace, straddling Hanbin’s hips. He leaned forward, his hands braced on either side of Hanbin’s head. “Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over Hanbin’s body. “So desperate for me.”

Hanbin moaned, his hips moving in time with the vibrations. “Please, Hao,” he begged again. “Let me— let me fuck you.”

Zhang Hao reached between them, guiding Hanbin’s heavy cock to his entrance. Hanbin gasped, savouring the feeling of Zhang Hao’s body stretching to accommodate him. 

Hanbin’s moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain.

“Yes, f-fuck,” Hanbin gasped. “More, more.”

Zhang Hao complied, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. Hanbin’s body was slick with sweat, his muscles tense as he fought to hold back his release. The vibrations from the cock ring and the clenching of Zhang Hao’s muscles added together were driving him to the edge, the sensation almost unbearable.

“F-fuck,” he groaned again, his voice desperate. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

Zhang Hao leaned down, his lips capturing Hanbin’s in a bruising kiss. “Not yet, Baobei,” he growled. “Not until I say so.”

He pulled back, his hips moving faster now as he bounced on Hanbin’s cock. Hanbin’s body was a mass of sensation, the vibrations and the feel of Zhang Hao all over him pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Hao, please,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t...”

Zhang Hao relented, quickly pulling away so Hanbin’s cock slipped free of his hot body before he released the cock ring. Hanbin couldn’t hold on. His body convulsed, his cock spilling over his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. 

Zhang Hao continued to move above him, his own release not far off as he ground his own cock against Hanbin’s abs. “Fuck, Baobei,” he groaned, his body tensing as he came, painting Hanbin with even more release. He collapsed on top of Hanbin, their bodies slick with sweat and come. 

“Mmm,” Hanbin murmured, his body still humming with pleasure. “That was... incredible.”

Zhang Hao chuckled, rolling off of Hanbin. He reached for the restraints, unfastening them. 

Hanbin lay still, his chest rising and falling in sync with Zhang Hao’s, the warmth of their bodies intertwined under the dim glow of the early morning light filtering through the curtains. 

They both managed to clean themselves quickly before they automatically fell back into bed, it was almost instinctively. 

Zhang Hao's back was pressed against his chest, allowing Hanbin’s arms to wrap securely around him. Hanbin inhaled deeply, breathing in the lingering scent of him, of them.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply existed in the moment, holding onto the quiet that felt like an illusion, a fragile bubble that Hanbin knew would eventually burst.

Then, he sighed, pressing a lingering kiss to Zhang Hao’s bare shoulder before whispering against his skin, “I have to go back.”

Zhang Hao didn’t tense, didn’t react immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly as if considering Hanbin’s words before he finally spoke.

"Bang Yoontea can’t be trusted."

Hanbin frowned, his fingers instinctively tightening around Zhang Hao’s waist. "You always say that," Hanbin muttered, but this time, there was something different in Zhang Hao’s tone, something ominous. He shifted so he could see Zhang Hao’s face. “What do you mean?”

Zhang Hao turned in his arms, their faces inches apart now. There was a rare softness in his expression, but his dark eyes held something cold, something haunted.

"If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me. Even if I showed you proof."

Hanbin felt a slow, creeping unease settle in his stomach. The air between them grew heavy, suffocating.

"Try me." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Zhang Hao studied him for a moment, searching his face before letting out a quiet scoff. "Fine."

They both got out of bed, their movements unhurried yet weighted, as if each second that passed carried the weight of something irreversible. Hanbin dressed in silence, watching as Zhang Hao adjusted his robe back on before leading him towards the door.

The mansion was coming to life now, Zerose members moving through the hallways, murmuring to each other in hushed tones. Some glanced their way, but no one dared to question where their leader was taking Hanbin.

Hanbin followed him down the long corridor until they stopped in front of a door. Zhang Hao knocked twice.

The door opened, revealing Taerae.

The analyst gave them a small, knowing smile before stepping aside, allowing them in. The room was filled with multiple screens, some displaying security footage, others filled with lines of unreadable data. Hanbin immediately felt a sense of unease curling in his gut.

"Show him," Zhang Hao said simply.

Taerae nodded, typing something quickly on the keyboard before pulling up a screen.

At first, Hanbin didn’t understand what he was looking at. A news article, aged, its edges slightly blurred as if it had been printed years ago. Then, his breath caught.

It was his family.

A report on the night his parents and little sister were murdered.

Hanbin stiffened, his fingers clenching into fists as he read the familiar words. He had forced himself to forget. Forced himself not to relive that night over and over. But now, staring at it, all the grief, the helplessness, the loneliness came rushing back.

"Why are you showing me this?" Hanbin asked, his voice low, controlled, but trembling just beneath the surface.

Taerae hesitated for a second before typing again. Another screen popped up, this time, sealed police records.

Interviews with eyewitnesses. A detailed account of how the massacre had been orchestrated.

Hanbin’s entire body went cold. It wasn’t a random attack. It wasn’t a rival gang. It was WakeOne.

It was Bang Yoontea.

Hanbin’s breath came in short, sharp gasps as his eyes moved frantically across the screen, taking in every horrifying detail. The way Yoontea had ordered the hit. The way he had personally ensured Hanbin was the only survivor. The way he had taken him in, raised him, not out of kindness, but out of control.

"No," Hanbin whispered. His voice cracked. He took a step back, shaking his head. “No—this can’t be real.”

Zhang Hao stepped forward, concern flashing across his face. "Hanbin—"

Hanbin jerked away from him. "You knew." His voice was raw with betrayal. “You knew this whole time and you said nothing.”

Zhang Hao’s brows furrowed. "We only found out the night after the meeting— We needed time to confirm—"

"You should have told me!” Hanbin’s voice was rising, anger and grief crashing into him all at once.

"And what would you have done?" Zhang Hao snapped, his own frustration bleeding through now. "Gone back to WakeOne and confronted Yoontea? You would’ve gotten yourself killed!"

Hanbin couldn’t hear him. His mind was spiraling. Everything; his entire life, his loyalty, his very existence, had been built on a lie.

He turned and ran.

He barely heard Zhang Hao calling after him as he bolted out of the room, pushing past Zerose members who barely had time to react. His feet pounded against the floor, his heart hammering in his chest as he burst through the mansion doors and ran straight for his motorbike.

The early morning air was crisp, but Hanbin felt like he was burning, like everything inside him was unraveling.

Then—

"Hanbin!"

Zhang Hao’s voice cut through the chaos in his mind.

Hanbin turned, his hands clenched around his bike’s handles, his breaths uneven, his eyes wild.

Zhang Hao stood a few feet away, his silk robe barely clinging to his shoulders, his chest heaving from chasing after him.

"What’s your plan?" Zhang Hao demanded, his voice sharp, but his expression was something else, something close to desperation.

Hanbin’s grip tightened. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything anymore.

Hanbin paused, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his anger and grief. The world around him felt blurred and distant, the early morning air sharp against his burning skin. He stared at Zhang Hao, who stood unmoving, his expression unreadable. 

"I need to get revenge for my family." Hanbin’s voice was low, a dangerous edge lacing his tone.

Zhang Hao tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving Hanbin’s face. A slow, knowing smirk ghosted over his lips.

"Then we have the same goal." His voice was smooth, steady, but there was something dark underneath it, something unforgiving. He took a step closer, standing directly beside Hanbin’s motorbike, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over the leather seat.

"We both want WakeOne gone."

Hanbin’s fingers tightened around the bike’s handles. He wanted to trust those words, but the night’s revelations had left him shaken, raw, and uncertain.

"Then what’s your plan?" Hanbin demanded, his voice sharp, his patience running thin.

Zhang Hao let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “Stop acting like a child, and I’ll tell you.”

Something in Hanbin snapped. The constant teasing, the control, the way Zhang Hao always made him feel like he was steps behind, he’d had enough.

He climbed off his motorbike, his boots hitting the pavement hard as he stepped towards Zhang Hao, closing the distance between them. His eyes burned with frustration, his jaw clenched.

"Tell me. Now."

Before he could react, Zhang Hao moved. His hand shot up, fingers wrapping tightly around Hanbin’s throat, forcing his head back slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind Hanbin exactly who was in control.

Zhang Hao leaned in close, his breath warm against Hanbin’s skin.

"Speak nicely," he murmured, his voice dangerous, laced with something deeper.

Hanbin groaned, his fingers twitching at his sides as he fought the urge to fight back. His pulse quickened, but whether it was from anger or something else, he wasn’t sure. His fists clenched, his body tensing under Zhang Hao’s hold. But he nodded.

Zhang Hao studied him for a moment, then released him.

"Good boy."

Zhang Hao turned without another word, striding back toward the mansion. Hanbin stood there for a moment, forcing himself to breathe properly, his fingers subconsciously brushing against his throat where Zhang Hao had touched him.

Then, with a frustrated sigh, he followed.

The main meeting room was already occupied when they entered.

Jiwoong and Ricky were standing near the head of the long wooden table, their gazes sharp and untrusting as they watched Hanbin walk in. Gyuvin and Gunwook were seated to the side, deep in conversation, while Matthew and Taerae were both focused on the multiple monitors displaying maps and encrypted messages.

Zhang Hao strode forward, taking his place at the head of the table. The air in the room shifted immediately, tense with anticipation.

"Hanbin needs to be caught up." Zhang Hao’s voice was cool, authoritative.

Jiwoong let out a quiet sigh but nodded. "We’ve been planning this for months. Every supply route, every point of weakness in WakeOne’s operation has been mapped out.” He gestured to the screen behind them, where multiple red markers were placed on a map of the city.

Gunwook leaned forward. "The biggest issue is their safehouses. They’re scattered, and they rotate locations often. But Taerae-hyung hacked into their logs—we know where they’ll be in the next two weeks."

"And Yoontea?" Hanbin’s voice was sharp. “Where will he be?”

Zhang Hao exchanged a glance with Ricky before answering. "Always at the WakeOne mansion. But he’s not stupid. He knows we’ll strike soon. We need to be patient."

Hanbin’s fists clenched at his sides. "And what’s my role in all of this?"

Zhang Hao leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. “You’ll act exactly as you have been.”

Hanbin froze. "That’s impossible." His voice rose slightly, frustration leaking through. "How the hell am I supposed to act like everything is fine when I know that bastard killed my family?"

Zhang Hao’s eyes darkened instantly.

"You either help us, or you don’t." His tone was cold, a challenge in his words.

Hanbin’s breath hitched. His mind screamed at him to fight back, to argue, but he knew Zhang Hao was right.

He had to play the part.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to nod. "Fine."

The discussion stretched on for another hour.

They went over every detail, the logistics, the risks, the consequences. Hanbin asked questions, taking in the depth of their planning, realising just how much thought had gone into WakeOne’s eventual downfall.

By the time they wrapped up, the sun had fully risen. The air outside was warmer now, the city stirring to life as Hanbin and Zhang Hao made their way back to the entrance.

Hanbin approached his motorbike, only to pause when Zhang Hao held out something to him.

His gun. And his dagger.

Hanbin raised a brow. "What, you’re actually trusting me now?"

Zhang Hao didn’t smile. His expression was oddly serious.

Hanbin rolled his eyes, taking the gun and slipping it back into its holster. But when Zhang Hao extended the dagger, he hesitated.

Then, instead of taking it, he shook his head.

"Keep it."

Zhang Hao’s brows furrowed slightly. "Why?"

Hanbin smirked, stepping closer, trailing his fingers down Zhang Hao’s arm before curling them around his wrist.

"Because I want you to think about me every time you hold it."

Zhang Hao’s lips parted slightly in surprise, but before he could respond, Hanbin pulled him in, pressing their lips together.

Zhang Hao stiffened for only a second before melting into the kiss, his fingers curling into Hanbin’s jacket, pulling him closer. The kiss was slow, lingering, filled with a silent promise.

When Hanbin pulled away, Zhang Hao’s expression was different. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he looked at him.

Hanbin smiled softly, brushing a thumb over Zhang Hao’s cheek. "I’ll be fine."

Zhang Hao didn’t respond. He just stared at him for a long moment, his eyes filled with something Hanbin couldn’t quite name.

Then, finally, he exhaled. "Come back to me soon."

Hanbin gave him one last lingering look before climbing onto his motorbike.

He revved the engine, feeling the vibration beneath him as he took one last glance at the mansion behind him. At Zhang Hao, still standing there, watching him go.

Then, with a sharp turn, he sped off, back towards the place he’d once called home.

_____

Hanbin instantly sensed the shift in atmosphere the moment he stepped through the doors of WakeOne Mansion.

The air was thick with something heavy, suspicion, malice, unspoken danger.

It wasn’t just the usual tension that lingered in the halls of the mansion. This was different.

Every member he passed watched him too closely, their gazes sharp and assessing, lingering on him for a beat too long before turning away.

He forced himself to keep walking, to act as though he didn’t notice. But his muscles tensed, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very, very wrong.

Still, he pressed forward, making his way towards Bang Yoontea’s office.

His heartbeat quickened as he reached the double doors, the polished mahogany towering over him like a silent warning. He exhaled, steadying himself, schooling his expression into something unreadable before pushing the doors open.

The moment he stepped inside, he froze. His blood turned to ice. He could hear a sound, familiar, intimate, unmistakable, filling the room.

Hanbin’s entire body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat.

It was Zhang Hao’s voice. Moaning .

The sounds of pleasure echoed through the office, unmistakable, devastatingly familiar, coming from Bang Yoontea’s laptop.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted violently.

Across the room, Yoontea was seated behind his desk, a knowing, wicked smirk curling his lips. With deliberate slowness, he turned the laptop towards Hanbin, tilting the screen just enough for him to see.

Hanbin’s entire body locked up. There, on the screen, was him and Zhang Hao.

From a hidden camera in the hotel room.

Hanbin’s mouth went dry as he watched the footage, watched as Zhang Hao straddled his face, bare and exposed, his body moving with a desperate, sinful rhythm. It was explicit, raw, unfiltered.

Zhang Hao’s head was thrown back, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut in bliss as he rode Hanbin’s face.

Hanbin felt sick. "Turn it off." His voice was tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Yoontea chuckled but complied, shutting the laptop with an infuriating amount of ease, as if the video hadn’t meant anything to him at all. "Did you really think I was a fool, Hanbin?"

Hanbin’s lips parted to respond, but he didn’t get the chance.

A sudden, vicious punch slammed into his gut. The force of it stole the breath from his lungs, white-hot pain exploding in his ribs as he crumpled to his knees.

He barely had time to register the attack before fingers buried themselves in his hair, yanking his head up sharply. Minjae was smirking darkly as he held Hanbin, he was the one that had sent the punch. 

Hanbin gritted his teeth, his vision blurring as he was forced to look directly at Yoontea.

The man stood over him now, towering, his gaze filled with something cold and cruel.

"Why did you think you could get away with this?"

Hanbin spat out a bitter laugh, swallowing down the pain that pulsed through his abdomen. "I could ask you the same thing." His voice was hoarse but steady, his eyes burning with hatred. "I know what you did to my family."

For a moment, Yoontea’s expression didn’t change. Then, he scoffed. Amused. Unbothered. "So, you believe everything Zhang Hao tells you now?" He shook his head, almost mockingly. "That’s disappointing, Hanbin. I thought you were smarter than that."

He barely nodded his head before Minjae moved again.

The second attack was quicker, a brutal fist to Hanbin’s ribs that sent him sprawling onto the floor.

Pain flared through him, his body shouting in protest, but he forced himself to push up onto his hands and knees, glaring up at them.

Minjae crouched down, reaching for Hanbin’s holster and easily pulling his gun from him.

"Is that all?" he sneered, running his hands along Hanbin’s pockets, searching for anything else.

Then, Minjae stilled. His fingers brushed against something, his grip tightening around the soft leather.

When he pulled it out, Hanbin’s breath hitched.

The collar. His collar.

The symbol of something unspoken, something unbreakable between him and Zhang Hao. 

Minjae let out a sharp, amused laugh. "What do we have here?" He dangled the collar in front of Hanbin, mocking. "How pathetic. You’re his little bitch, huh? I wonder what else you let him do to you."

Hanbin’s hands curled into fists.

Yoontea sighed. "No matter. This just makes things easier."

Hanbin’s stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"

Yoontea smirked, leaning down slightly. "It means you’re going to come in handy."

Hanbin’s breath caught. Then, suddenly, understanding crashed into him. His eyes widened. "You’re going to use me as bait."

Yoontea’s smirk widened. "Now you’re catching on."

Hanbin thrashed immediately, trying to push himself up, trying to fight, but strong hands grabbed him, forcing him down, restraining him with ease.

He snarled, struggling violently, but Minjae only laughed, tightening his grip.

Then, the bastard leaned in close, his lips ghosting over Hanbin’s ear.

"You know…" Minjae’s voice was low, dripping with cruelty. "Once we get our hands on Zhang Hao, maybe I’ll have a go with him, show him where he really belongs."

Hanbin’s entire body locked up. Rage,  blind, seething rage surged through him. Without thinking, he lunged forward, sinking his teeth into Minjae’s hand.

Minjae let out a sharp hiss of pain. Then, a brutal fist connected with Hanbin’s face. The impact was instantaneous, white-hot pain exploding behind his eyes, his skull snapping back violently.

Everything spun. His vision blurred, darkening at the edges, and then, nothing. Darkness swallowed him whole.

_____

Hanbin awoke gasping, his arms burning from the strain.

His wrists were bound in cold, heavy chains, pulled so tight above his head that his shoulders ached. His feet barely grazed the concrete floor beneath him, toes brushing the rough surface, his entire body suspended, vulnerable.

His breath came in sharp, uneven pants as he tried to shake off the disorientation, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. The room was dimly lit, flickering bulbs casting long, eerie shadows against rusted metal walls.

A warehouse.

Hanbin’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t just a punishment, he was bait set for Zhang Hao.

He yanked at the chains, twisting his wrists in a desperate attempt to free himself, but the metal was unyielding, cutting into his skin. His pulse roared in his ears.

They were going to use him to lure Zhang Hao out.

And Zhang Hao would come. Hanbin knew it.

He could already hear muffled voices outside, footsteps crunching against gravel. He wasn’t alone. WakeOne was here, likely surrounding the warehouse, setting the perfect trap.

He bit back a curse, inhaling sharply through his nose. His body ached, his face throbbed from Minjae’s brutal punch, but he pushed it aside.

The door creaked open.

Bang Yoontea stepped inside, moving with calculated ease, a cruel smirk playing at his lips.

Behind him, Minjae followed, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something unhinged.

"Well, well, well. Look at you, Hanbin." Yoontea’s voice was smooth, almost amused as he stalked forward, hands clasped behind his back. "Hanging there like a stray dog, still so eager to fight."

Hanbin glared up at him, chest rising and falling with anger. "You won’t win." His voice was raw, but filled with venom.

Yoontea let out a low chuckle. "And why is that? Because of your precious Zhang Hao?" He tsked, shaking his head. "You’re nothing but a pawn in his game.” 

Minjae’s eyes flickered to the monitors set up against the wall, the grainy security feed showing the warehouse’s entrance.

His smirk faltered. "Sajangnim." His voice was sharp, alert. "There’s movement outside."

Hanbin’s breath hitched. 

Gunfire cracked through the air.

The warehouse walls shook with the force of explosions outside, the unmistakable sound of a war breaking loose.

Yoontea’s smirk faded, his gaze snapping to Minjae. "Go shut them up."

Minjae took a step forward before suddenly the door burst open. A man stumbled in, his body lurching forward before crumpling onto the floor.

A bullet hole was clean through his forehead, blood pooling beneath his lifeless body.

The air turned deadly silent. All eyes turned towards the open doorway.

And there, standing in the entrance, gun at his side, was Zhang Hao.

He looked like a ghost. Dressed in all black, his face was unreadable, his eyes dark with pure, unfiltered rage.

Hanbin’s breath caught in his throat.

Zhang Hao’s gaze landed on him instantly, taking in his chained form, the bruises on his skin, the blood smeared against his lip.

Something in Zhang Hao’s expression shifted.

Then, with no hesitation, he raised his gun, aiming straight at the chain binding Hanbin’s wrists.

But before he could fire, Minjae lunged at him. The impact sent Zhang Hao crashing to the floor, his gun skidding across the concrete.

“No!” Hanbin shouted, thrashing in his restraints.

Minjae had him pinned within seconds, his knee pressing into Zhang Hao’s spine as he grabbed his wrists, locking them behind his back.

"Where are your boys, Zhang Hao?" Minjae sneered, twisting his arms painfully.

Zhang Hao didn’t make a sound. He didn’t fight. Didn’t even flinch. He just lay there, still as death, his face completely unreadable.

Yoontea’s smirk returned. "He’s alone."

Hanbin’s blood ran cold.

Yoontea took slow, deliberate steps forward, stopping just beside Zhang Hao’s head. 

And then, he slapped him. Hard. The sharp crack of the impact echoed through the warehouse.

Hanbin roared. "Stop it!"

Zhang Hao’s head snapped to the side, but he still didn’t react.

Instead, he smiled. It was barely there, just the faintest twitch of his lips, mocking, unfazed.

Yoontea’s expression twisted.

Minjae let out a low, dark chuckle. "Sajangnim,” he said cautiously as he looked at Yoontea with sinister eyes. “Let me have a go with him?"

Hanbin felt something snap inside him. His chains rattled violently as he struggled, his vision burning red. "You sick bastard!"

Yoontea barely shrugged. "Do what you want."

Minjae grinned. With no hesitation, he yanked Zhang Hao up by his wrists, pulling him close, pressing against him and aggressively rubbing his crotch against Zhang Hao’s ass.

"We’re gonna have so much fun, pretty baby." His voice was low, taunting, dripping with sick satisfaction.

Zhang Hao didn’t say a word. Still didn’t fight. Still didn’t react.

Hanbin saw red. His body thrashed violently, muscles straining against the chains, pulling so hard that the metal cut into his skin. He didn’t care.

All he could see was Minjae dragging Zhang Hao away.

Hanbin’s roar of rage shook the entire warehouse.

Yoontea laughed, the sound cold and cruel. "You really love him, don’t you?" He stepped closer, eyes glinting.

Hanbin’s eyes widened at the man’s words. Is that what this desperate feeling was? Love? 

Yoontea sighed. "Such a shame your loyalty had to go to waste. You were always such a good soldier."

Hanbin’s breathing was ragged, his body trembling with fury. His voice was a snarl. "Why?"

Yoontea tilted his head. "Why what?"

"Why did you kill my family?"

For the first time, Yoontea actually looked a little bored. "They were in the way." He shrugged, as if it were nothing. "Your father owed a debt he couldn’t pay. Your mother begged. Your sister cried. And you?" He smiled darkly. "You were useful."

Hanbin felt his own heart shatter. But he didn’t let himself fall apart. He let the rage consume him instead.

Yoontea sighed, checking his watch. "Well, I’ll leave you to your fate, Hanbin."

He stepped over the dead body on the ground, barely sparing it a glance.

Hanbin knew. He was being left here to die.

As soon as the warehouse door slammed shut, he thrashed again, harder this time, his entire body burning with the need to break free.

His breath came in sharp gasps, his wrists slick with blood from how hard he pulled at the chains.

But he didn’t care. He needed to get to Zhang Hao.

God only knew what Minjae was going to do to him.

Hanbin’s possessiveness took hold like a wildfire. Zhang Hao was his. His . And he would tear this entire fucking world apart to get him back.

_____

The warehouse was bathed in darkness, the dim glow of the moon casting pale slivers of light through the cracks in the rusted metal walls. Hanbin’s breath was ragged, his body aching from the relentless struggle against the chains that had refused to give. His wrists were raw, blood seeping from where the metal had bitten into his flesh. He had lost count of how many minutes, how many hours, had passed since Yoontea had left him here to rot.

But then he heard it. A sound. A soft shuffle of footsteps outside.

Hanbin’s entire body tensed, instincts screaming at him to prepare for a fight. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he forced himself to stay still, eyes locked onto the door.

And then it creaked open.

A silhouette stood in the doorway, framed by the faint glow of streetlights outside. Hanbin’s breath hitched.

Seok Matthew.

Hanbin stared, his mind reeling. What the hell was he doing here?

Matthew didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun, aimed it at the chain binding Hanbin’s wrists. The shot echoed through the warehouse, and the chain snapped.

Hanbin crashed to the floor, his legs buckling beneath him as pain flared through his limbs. The sensation of being grounded, of freedom, was almost overwhelming.

Strong hands grabbed his arms, hauling him up. 

"Can you stand?" Matthew asked, voice low but urgent.

Hanbin groaned, pushing himself upright. His entire body trembled with exhaustion, but he forced himself to nod. "Yeah."

A new voice cut through the dark.

"Good. Now tell us how to get into WakeOne Mansion without raising hell."

Hanbin turned, his pulse still racing.

Kim Jiwoong.

His eyes widened in realisation, in disbelief. He stared at them, then at the open warehouse doors. And beyond them, Cars. Dozens of them.

Hanbin stepped forward, his breath catching as he took in the full sight.

Zerose was here. They had all come. Every single one of them.

Armed. Ready. Eyes burning with determination and bloodlust.

And then it hit him.

Zhang Hao. The leader had gotten himself captured on purpose.

Hanbin clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together. That crazy bastard.

"There’s no time to waste," Jiwoong pressed, stepping closer. "We need information. Fast."

Hanbin exhaled sharply, his mind kicking into high gear. He turned to the nearest car, where Taerae had already spread out blueprints of WakeOne Mansion across the hood. The paper was creased, well-studied, every hallway and security blind spot meticulously marked.

Hanbin leaned over it, tracing his finger along the perimeter. "There are three main entrances, one in the front, two on the east and west sides." He tapped a spot near the back. "But this? This is where we go in."

Matthew frowned. "The old servant’s corridor? That’s too obvious. They’ll have guards there."

"Exactly," Hanbin countered. "Which is why we won’t be going through the entrance."

He pointed at a maintenance hatch near the back of the estate. "This leads into the underground wine cellar. It’s a direct path into the west wing. From there, we split."

Jiwoong nodded. "We’ll need a distraction. Something to pull their forces away from the inside."

"I’ll handle that," Ricky said, loading his rifle. "WakeOne’s security is already on edge after tonight. If we hit them with explosives near the front gates, they’ll have no choice but to mobilize."

Hanbin’s eyes flickered toward the mansion’s blueprints again. His gut churned with urgency.

Zhang Hao was inside. He didn’t have time to waste.

"You handle the outer forces," Hanbin said firmly. "But Zhang Hao is mine. I’ll find him. The rest of you focus on tearing WakeOne apart."

Jiwoong raised a brow. "You sure about that?"

Hanbin met his gaze with a fire that burned deep in his chest. "I don’t care what happens tonight." His voice was steel. "But I swear on everything, I am walking out of there with him."

They all quickly dispersed into cars, Hanbin gripped the wheel of the front car, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched tight as the convoy moved in perfect unison through the darkened streets. The weight of what was about to unfold sat heavily in his chest, but he didn’t let it slow him down. There was no room for hesitation. No time for doubt. Zhang Hao was inside, and Hanbin wasn’t leaving without him.

The road stretched out ahead, leading straight toward the fortress that had once been his home, WakeOne Mansion.

But not anymore. Tonight, WakeOne would burn.

As soon as they reached a safe distance from the estate, Hanbin brought the car to a slow, rolling stop. The other vehicles followed suit, their engines humming low in the silence of the night. The air was thick with tension, the kind that settled deep into the bones before a storm.

The sound of a car door clicking open pulled Hanbin’s focus.

Matthew approached, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told Hanbin this wasn’t just another mission.

Matthew pulled a pistol from his belt, holding it out. "Take it. You’re going to need it."

Hanbin accepted the weapon without a word, checking the magazine before clicking it back into place. It felt familiar. Dangerous.

But then Hanbin’s gaze dropped to Matthew’s other hand.

A dagger. Not just any dagger. His dagger.

Hanbin’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the weapon, the cold steel glinting under the dim moonlight. It was Bang Yoontea, a symbol of Hanbin’s once loyalty to him. 

Matthew extended it toward him. "Zhang Hao told me to give this to you."

Hanbin swallowed, his fingers closing around the hilt. It was warm, worn, familiar. He exhaled slowly, nodding once. "Thanks." His voice was quiet, but there was something deeper behind it, gratitude, understanding, resolve.

Matthew nodded back, stepping away as Jiwoong and Ricky approached, waiting for Hanbin’s orders.

Hanbin took a deep breath, forcing himself into the mindset of a leader, of a soldier. He turned toward the group, his voice sharp and commanding.

"We stick to the plan. No unnecessary fights. No delays. We get in, we take WakeOne down from the inside, and we get Zhang Hao out." He glanced at Jiwoong. "You and Ricky take the west entrance. Hit them hard, but don’t overstay your welcome. We need them scattered."

Jiwoong smirked. "Don’t worry. We’ll make plenty of noise."

Hanbin shifted his gaze to Gunwook and Gyuvin. "You two cover the east side. Take out the security feeds and make sure no alarms go off before we’re deep inside."

Gunwook cracked his knuckles. "Consider it done."

Finally, he turned to Matthew and Taerae. "You’re with me. We go straight through the underground passage. But I’m going for Minjae first. I have to take him out before I go after Bang Yoontea."

Matthew’s expression darkened at the mention of Minjae’s name. "I hope you make that bastard bleed."

Hanbin didn’t answer. He just slid the dagger into the sheath on his belt and turned toward the mansion, his mind already ahead of his body, calculating every step.

Minjae was waiting for him inside.

And this time, Hanbin wasn’t walking away without making him suffer.

 

_____

Hanbin had parted ways with Matthew and Taerae as soon as they’d gained entry to the mansion, the other men had their own missions. 

The corridor was dimly lit, the floor cold beneath his boots as he sprinted toward Minjae’s bedroom. He could feel the anger building in him, the familiar heat that had been simmering for months, now burning hotter than ever. Every step toward that door sent a surge of hatred through his veins.

As he rounded a corner, a group of WakeOne's guards appeared, their guns raised. Hanbin didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his gun and fired without slowing down. One down. Then another. And another. The guards crumpled to the floor with sickening thuds, but Hanbin didn’t care about them. They were nothing. A distraction. He moved forward, relentless, his eyes fixed on the door ahead.

The corridor to Minjae’s bedroom was eerily quiet. A silence that was thick with anticipation, with the scent of blood and violence hanging in the air. Hanbin slowed as he approached the door, his breath steady despite the chaos raging outside. He holstered his gun, the weight of the weapon now an afterthought, and pulled the dagger from his belt. The cold steel felt like a promise in his hand, swift, clean, final.

He took a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and kicked open the door with a force that sent it crashing against the wall. His eyes scanned the room, and his stomach churned as he saw Minjae leaning over Zhang Hao, who was chained to the bed naked, with his legs spread wide by a bar spreader. A large dildo was lodged in Zhang Hao's glistening hole, a sight that filled Hanbin with both rage and concern.

"You son of a bitch!" Hanbin growled, his voice echoing through the room. 

Minjae turned to face him, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of Hanbin. “Hanbin?!” 

Hanbin's anger boiled over, and he lunged at Minjae, the dagger raised high. 

The two men clashed, their bodies moving with the swiftness and precision of trained fighters. Minjae was no match for Hanbin's fury, he only managed to get in a few punches before Hanbin kicked him away, he raised his arm and buried the dagger deep in Minjae's throat. The man spluttered blood, his eyes filled with disbelief as he stumbled to the floor. His hand came up to try and stop the bleeding but it was no use, Hanbin knew where to strike to make his death long and painful. 

Hanbin turned away from Minjae and quickly made his way to Zhang Hao. He could see the mix of anger and relief in Zhang Hao's eyes as he approached. He quickly released the bar spreader and Zhang Hao’s legs trembled as he was free from the contraption. Hanbin moved to the restraints next, freeing Zhang Hao’s hands from the bedposts and watching as Zhang Hao’s hands balled into fists. 

Hanbin swallowed down his anger as he carefully reached for the dildo, Zhang Hao's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Fuck me in front of him," Zhang Hao said, his voice dark and filled with a twisted desire.

"W-what?" Hanbin stammered, taken aback by the request.

"It'll be the last thing he sees before he dies," Zhang Hao said, his eyes locked onto Minjae's dying form. 

Hanbin hesitated, his mind racing with the implications of the request. But the look in Zhang Hao's eyes was one of both pain and lust, a sickening combination that Hanbin couldn't ignore.

"N-no—“ Minjae gasped, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to breathe, but it was too late. 

Hanbin's resolve hardened, and he moved to comply with Zhang Hao's twisted wish. Hanbin grabbed the dildo and began to fuck it in and out of Zhang Hao, his movements rough and urgent. 

Zhang Hao moaned in response, his body writhing with each thrust. "Yes, yes, so good," he panted, his angered eyes fixed on Minjae. "You're such a good boy, Hanbinnie. Fuck me harder." Zhang Hao commanded. 

Minjae, despite his impending death, was hard in his pants, his body reacting to the sight of Hanbin fucking Zhang Hao. 

Hanbin could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his body trembled as he watched. It fueled Hanbin's anger and desire, and he fucked Zhang Hao even harder with the thick dildo, the room filled with the sounds of Zhang Hao’s pretty moans. 

"Fuck, yes," Zhang Hao groaned, his body trembling on the edge of orgasm. "Right there, right there, Hanbinnie. Make me come."

Hanbin’s cock twitched in interest in the confines of his jeans but he knew he had other things to focus on. Zhang Hao’s body was trembling, his pupils blown out. 

Zhang Hao turned his gaze to Hanbin, his eyes instantly softening. “Your big cock feels so much better than this,” he groaned. 

Hanbin felt his chest flare with pride, he continued his movements knowing exactly what angle to thrust the dildo to hit Zhang Hao’s prostate. It worked, Zhang Hao’s body arched in a pretty bow as he came. 

Minjae watched, his eyes glazed over with a final look of lust and disbelief, before his body went limp, and he took his last breath.

In the aftermath, Hanbin looked down at Zhang Hao, his body still shuddering from the intensity of their encounter. He gently pulled out the dildo, his touch filled with a mix of concern and tenderness. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

Zhang Hao looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I'm okay," he said, his voice barely a whisper. 

Hanbin’s breath came in quick, sharp bursts as he crouched down, pulling Zhang Hao’s discarded clothes together. His hands moved swiftly, but his mind felt clouded, disoriented by the sheer rage bubbling under his skin. The air was thick with blood, sweat, and something else, something raw and unspoken.

Zhang Hao sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for his clothes. Hanbin’s movements stilled for a brief second as his gaze fell on the bruises, the bite marks littering Zhang Hao’s skin, marks that didn’t belong there.

His stomach twisted violently. His jaw clenched so tightly that it ached, and without thinking, he reached out, his fingers grazing over the marred skin. Zhang Hao inhaled sharply but didn’t pull away.

Hanbin’s breath was shaky. Mine . The thought came unbidden, violent in its intensity. No one touches him but me.

Zhang Hao must have noticed the darkness settling in his gaze because he reached down, quickly buttoning his shirt, hiding the evidence. "Hanbin-ah," his voice was soft but firm, "we have other things to worry about."

Hanbin exhaled, nodding once, but the rage didn’t fade. Instead, it settled in his bones, simmering, waiting for the right moment.

He turned and moved towards where Minjae had fallen, his grip tightened around the hilt of his dagger as he leaned down, yanking it free from Minjae’s throat. The bastard didn’t even deserve to be buried. Hanbin barely looked at the body before turning away, grabbing Zhang Hao’s hand in his own.

"Let’s go."

Zhang Hao squeezed his fingers in response, unsteady but moving. Hanbin led the way, navigating through the corridors of WakeOne Mansion. Bodies littered the hallways, their blood staining the floors and walls. The war had already begun.

Zhang Hao stumbled slightly, and Hanbin instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist. "Are you okay?"

Zhang Hao blinked up at him, his movements sluggish. "I think… I was drugged."

Hanbin saw red.

That son of a bitch. Minjae had drugged Zhang Hao, had taken away his control, his strength. The thought made Hanbin’s grip on his gun tighten, his jaw aching from the force of his clenched teeth.

But now wasn’t the time.

He inhaled through his nose, forced his anger down. There was only one more thing left to do.

Bang Yoontea was waiting.

The moment they stepped into the office, Hanbin knew it was over.

Bang Yoontea sat at his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him, expression unreadable. Unbothered. Unshaken.

But he was surrounded.

Jiwoong, Ricky, Gyuvin, Gunwook, and Matthew stood in a semi-circle, their guns trained on him, their stances rigid, unrelenting. The scent of gunpowder and blood hung heavy in the air.

Taerae moved the second he saw Zhang Hao, stepping forward to support him. Hanbin let him go, but his focus never wavered from the man sitting in front of him.

Yoontea’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk as his gaze flickered to Zhang Hao.

"You look a little worse for wear, Zhang Hao. Did you enjoy your time with Minjae?"

Hanbin’s body locked up. Rage burned through his veins like wildfire, hot and consuming.

Yoontea chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction. "What? You didn’t hear? Minjae made sure the whole mansion could hear him breaking—"

Hanbin moved before he could think.

One second, he was standing still. The next, he was stalking forward, his bloody dagger gripped tightly in his hand.

Yoontea didn’t flinch.

He tilted his head, watching Hanbin approach with an almost amused expression. "Ah, my boy. Still so angry."

Hanbin stopped just short of the desk, his body shaking with restraint.

Yoontea leaned forward, his voice dropping into something almost fatherly. "I was always proud of you, Hanbin. Do you know how many people you’ve killed for me? How much blood is on your hands because of me? Innocent men. Women. Even children."

Hanbin swallowed hard, his grip tightening as the realism of those words hit him like a train. 

"You will never be free of me," Yoontea continued, his eyes sharp and unrelenting. "No matter what you do, no matter how much you fight it, you are nothing but a pawn. No one will ever love you. You are nothing."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"He belongs to no one." The voice was soft, but it cut through the air like a blade.

Hanbin’s breath caught in his throat as he turned.

Zhang Hao was watching him, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his gaze. Something warm.

"Hanbin-ah," Zhang Hao continued, his voice still so gentle, so unwavering, "you’re free."

Hanbin frowned.

Zhang Hao smiled at him.

Yoontea shifted in his chair, confusion flickering across his face. "What—"

Hanbin lunged. The dagger sank into flesh.

Yoontea’s mouth fell open in shock, his breath hitching as Hanbin forced the blade deeper into his chest, twisting it for good measure.

Yoontea’s eyes met his, wide with disbelief.

Hanbin’s voice was steady. "That’s for my family."

Yoontea exhaled sharply, blood dripping from his lips. His body slumped forward, his last breath rattling out of him.

Hanbin didn’t move. Didn’t pull the dagger out. Didn’t need to. He didn’t need it anymore.

He stepped back, turning toward Zhang Hao.

The leader smiled softly, his expression unreadable. "Go."

Hanbin hesitated. Something in his chest ached. But he nodded. And then he ran.

The night air was cold against his skin, but Hanbin barely felt it.

His legs carried him faster, faster, his heart pounding in his chest. He ignored the sound of gunfire behind him, the echoes of a war that no longer belonged to him.

His motorbike was waiting. He swung his leg over, gripping the handlebars tightly. His fingers flexed, his breathing uneven.

He was free.

Free from the underworld. Free from WakeOne.

Free from Zhang Hao.

Hanbin clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white against the leather grips.

But even as he drove, the wind roaring in his ears, the city lights blurring past him, he still wasn’t sure if that last part was a good thing.

 

_____

Nine Months Later

 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation. The café was small but cozy, nestled in a quiet street in Cheonan, the very place where Hanbin had taken his first breath, where his mother had once dreamed of owning a café of her own.

Now, it was his.

The wooden tables were always occupied, the soft murmur of customers filling the space with life. Hanbin had worked tirelessly to make this place a success, pouring himself into every detail, the dark oak counters, the hanging bulbs, the delicate ceramic cups that reminded him of home.

And it worked.

People came not just for the coffee but for the man behind the counter.

Hanbin had quickly become a local favourite, his reputation spreading beyond just his skills as a barista. Customers (especially women) would linger a little too long, ask for a little too much, but Hanbin didn’t mind. He would flash them that easy smile of his, flirt just enough to keep them happy, but never let it go further.

One of his part-timers, Han Yujin, had taken notice.

The teenager leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching yet another woman giggle as she accepted her cappuccino. Yujin waited until she left before turning to Hanbin, smirking.

"Hyung," he started, voice dripping with amusement, "why aren’t you married yet?"

Hanbin huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he wiped down the counter. "Why? Are you worried about me?"

Yujin rolled his eyes. "I’m just saying, we get way too many pretty customers in here for you to still be single. Don’t tell me you’re secretly married or something?"

Hanbin chuckled, leaning against the counter. "Ah, you caught me." He tapped his temple. "Wife and kids back in the mountains."

Yujin groaned. "I’m being serious! What, you got some tragic ex or something?"

Hanbin paused for half a second.

And then he forced a grin.

"Something like that."

Because how was he supposed to explain to Yujin that the real reason he was still single was because he was obsessed with a Mafia boss back in Seoul?

Hanbin didn’t watch the news anymore.

But the world didn’t let him forget.

The fall of WakeOne had made headlines for weeks, though the official story had been wrapped in secrecy. The authorities had brushed it off as a tragic accident, a fire at the mansion, a case of arson, but nothing more. The police had kept it under wraps, perhaps unwilling to admit how deep corruption ran through the city.

What the world didn’t know was that WakeOne had been wiped out in a single night.

And now, Zerose had taken everything WakeOne once owned.

The Zerose Group had left the underground world behind, rebranding itself as a property development empire, hotels, clubs, real estate. They were businessmen now, clean and legitimate. It was a rebirth, a new beginning.

And Hanbin had no part in it.

He hadn’t tried to contact Zhang Hao.

And Zhang Hao hadn’t contacted him either.

Nine months.

Not a single call. Not a single message. Not a single sign that Zhang Hao was even still alive.

And yet, Hanbin still caught himself thinking about him, about the way his lips curved into a smirk, about the sharp glint in his eyes, about the way he had whispered, " You're free."

Free.

So why did it still feel like he was waiting?

_____

 

The engine of Hanbin’s BMW purred softly as he drove down the endless stretch of highway, the bright neon lights of Seoul flickering in the distance like a mirage. It had been nine months since he left, nine months since he had sworn to himself that he was done with that life, done with him.

Yet, here he was.

Going to Seoul for a coffee conference was a lame excuse, and he knew it. He didn’t need to sit through hours of people talking about bean origins and roasting techniques. His cafe was already thriving, and he had mastered the art of coffee long ago.

But he needed an excuse.

Because deep down, he knew the real reason he was going back.

The thought of Zhang Hao had never truly left his mind.

At first, it was just the physical ache, nights spent gripping his sheets, body burning with need, mind taunted by the memory of Zhang Hao’s lips on his skin, his hands pinning Hanbin down, his voice murmuring soft threats that turned into whispered praise.

But as time passed, the ache became something deeper.

He started thinking about what it would be like to have Zhang Hao by his side, permanently.

Not just stolen nights. Not just bodies tangled together in secrecy. But a real life together.

And that scared him.

By the time Hanbin checked into his hotel room, the sun had already dipped below the skyline, the city alive with the hum of traffic and nightlife.

He threw his bag onto the bed and pulled out his laptop, fingers tapping against the keyboard as he accessed his private server.

One email. Intercepted .

Hanbin bit his lip, shaking his head with amusement. Taerae was going to kill him if he ever found out Hanbin was still hacking into Zerose’s resources.

But it was worth it.

The email was from a club owner, confirming a meeting with Zhang Hao tonight.

Hanbin sat back in his chair, heart pounding.

Zhang Hao was going to be there.

The rational part of him screamed that he should close the laptop, that he should ignore it, that he should stop chasing after a ghost.

But the other part, the part that still belonged to Zhang Hao, was already planning what he was going to wear.

Because tonight, he was going to see him again.

Hanbin adjusted the black silk cuffs of his tailored shirt, his fingers briefly ghosting over the new intricate tattoo on his forearm, blue roses, entwined with ice, curling delicately down his skin. A silent tribute. A quiet confession.

For him .

He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, checking himself in the mirror one last time. He deliberately left the stubble on his jaw, smirking slightly at the memory of Zhang Hao’s breath hitching whenever he felt the rough scrape of it against his sensitive skin.

Tonight, he was going to tempt a devil.

Finding the prestigious club was easy, Hanbin was confident as he strolled through the crowds of people outside. 

The bouncer barely hesitated when Hanbin stepped forward. "Name?"

Shit . Hanbin hadn't thought about that.

But before he could even come up with a fake one, the man simply looked him over before he nodded and stepped aside.

Hanbin exhaled sharply. Zhang Hao knew he was here.

He stepped inside. The club was opulent, dark, and dangerously alluring. The air was thick with cologne, smoke, and sin. Red-tinted lighting cast deep shadows across the polished floors, while bodies swayed in sync with the sultry bass of the music. It was clear that only the elite were allowed entry, every person was dressed to impress, in sleek fabrics and tailored cuts that screamed power and wealth.

Hanbin made his way to the bar, ordering the strongest drink they had. He kept his gaze sharp, scanning the room. No sign of him.

Minutes passed. He rejected two women and one man who approached him, all offering drinks or a dance. It wasn’t them he wanted.

But then…

That unmistakable burning gaze.

Hanbin smirked.

Gotcha.

Hanbin placed his empty glass on the bar and made his way to the centre of the dancefloor, swaying to the music. 

Suddenly a pretty man walked up to him, his cat-like eyes watching Hanbin closely. Hanbin continued moving with the pretty stranger while keeping his real focus elsewhere. His heart pounded as he felt the weight of those dangerous, dark doe-eyes on him, watching his every movement.

The man suddenly took his wrist, leading him through the throng of people toward the staircase. Hanbin frowned slightly, but he didn’t resist. He knew where this was going.

The booth was large, luxurious, and secluded overlooking the entire club yet hidden from the crowd. A throne for a king.

And there he was. Hanbin’s breath hitched.

Zhang Hao.

Dressed in pristine white, a stark contrast to Hanbin’s midnight black. His silk shirt was buttoned just enough to reveal his delicate collarbones, his gold watch glinting under the dim lighting. His legs were crossed elegantly, an arm draped lazily along the back of the plush sofa, a glass of whiskey held between his fingers.

He looked untouchable. Ethereal.

But his eyes? They were still just as dangerous.

The man who had led Hanbin up leaned down and murmured something into Zhang Hao’s ear before stepping away.

And then it was just the two of them. A suffocating silence stretched between them.

Zhang Hao finally spoke. "I should have you thrown out of here."

Hanbin swallowed. His throat felt dry.

Zhang Hao’s voice was smooth, calm. But Hanbin knew better. He could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped his glass a little too tightly.

"You’re free," Zhang Hao murmured, swirling the whiskey in his hand. "Coming here was a dangerous idea, Hanbin-ah."

Hanbin wet his lips, his pulse quickening. "Maybe I don’t want to be free."

Zhang Hao scoffed softly, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a slow sip. "You have a new life," he mused. "A cafe in Cheonan. A quiet little town. You’ve been doing well."

Hanbin felt his stomach twist. Of course he knew. Hanbin clenched his fists. "And yet, I’m still here."

Zhang Hao finally looked at him, truly looked at him. And Hanbin fell.

Because those dark eyes were the same, the same ones that had made him burn, beg, and break.

Slowly, Hanbin dropped to his knees.

Zhang Hao’s breath hitched.

Hanbin crawled forward, his hands pressing against Zhang Hao’s thighs, his voice low, desperate.

"I miss my collar," he confessed.

Zhang Hao inhaled sharply. For the first time, his perfectly composed mask cracked. "Hanbin—"

"Have I been a good boy?" Hanbin pleaded. His lips brushed against the inside of Zhang Hao’s silk-clad knee. "Tell me I have."

Zhang Hao exhaled shakily, his fingers tightening around his drink before he set it down on the table.

For a long moment, he simply stared down at Hanbin. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Zhang Hao reached into his pocket.

Hanbin’s breath caught when he saw it. The collar. His collar.

The very same one Zhang Hao had once fixed around his throat, the very same one Hanbin had worn like a brand, like a chain, like a promise.

Zhang Hao’s hands trembled as he fastened it around Hanbin’s neck.

A quiet moan slipped from Hanbin’s lips as he closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

Zhang Hao attached the silk leash to the collar, his fingers barely brushing against Hanbin’s jaw as he tilted his head up. Hanbin’s lips were parted, his pupils blown wide, his pulse racing beneath Zhang Hao’s touch.

For a moment, Zhang Hao simply looked at him, his expression unreadable, his grip firm. Then, his voice dropped to a command. "Get to work."

Hanbin smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "As you wish."

Hanbin grabbed Zhang Hao by the waist, pulling him close. He could feel the heat of Zhang Hao's body, smell the sweet scent of his perfume. "I’m going to show you how obsessed with you I am, Hao. I’m gonna make you scream my name."

Zhang Hao's eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into Hanbin, his lips brushing against Hanbin's ear. “Maybe I’ll make you scream first.” 

Hanbin shivered at the feeling of Zhang Hao's breath on his neck. "Fuck, Hao. You're playing with fire."

Zhang Hao pulled back, a wicked smile on his face. "And you're the one who always gets burned, baobei."

Hanbin watched as Zhang Hao carefully stood up, moving out of Hanbin’s arms, his hips swaying in a way that made Hanbin's cock twitch. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't help it. He was obsessed with Zhang Hao, and he couldn't deny it.

Hanbin gasped as he felt the silk leash tug on his collar, he stood up and sat down carefully on the sofa, his body aching with desire. 

Zhang Hao stood in front of him, his eyes roaming over Hanbin's body like a caress. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes. "You're so beautiful, Hanbin-ah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could look at you all day."

Hanbin reached out, his hand resting on Zhang Hao's thigh. "Then do it, Hao. Come here."

Zhang Hao climbed onto the sofa, his body straddling Hanbin's. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Hanbin's in a soft, teasing kiss. Hanbin groaned, his hands gripping Zhang Hao's hips.

"Fuck, Hao," he growled. "You drive me crazy."

Zhang Hao smiled and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into Hanbin's mouth. Hanbin could taste the sweetness of Zhang Hao's lip gloss, could feel the heat of his body. He bucked his hips, his cock pressing against Zhang Hao's ass.

Zhang Hao pulled back, his eyes shining with lust. "You want more, baobei? You want to taste me?"

Hanbin nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck, yes, Hao. Yes, I do."

Zhang Hao slipped off the sofa, standing at the side. He looked down at Hanbin, his eyes filled with challenge. "Then come and get me, baobei. Show me what you've got."

Hanbin didn't need to be told twice. He sat up and pushed Zhang Hao back onto the sofa, his body covering Zhang Hao's. He kissed him deeply, his hands roaming over Zhang Hao's body. He slipped his hands under Zhang Hao's shirt, his fingers tracing the lines of his abs.

Zhang Hao moaned, arching his back. “Yes, Hanbinnie. Yes.”

Hanbin slipped lower, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down Zhang Hao's body. He unbuttoned Zhang Hao's pants, his fingers slipping inside to stroke Zhang Hao's cock. Zhang Hao gasped, his hips bucking. “Ahh! More…” 

Hanbin slipped Zhang Hao's pants off, his eyes roaming over Zhang Hao's body. He looked up at Zhang Hao, a wicked smile on his face. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Hao. I could eat you up."

Zhang Hao's eyes widened, but he didn't look away. "Then do it. Show me how much you want me."

Hanbin didn't need to be told twice. He slipped lower, his tongue tracing the line of Zhang Hao's cock. Zhang Hao moaned, his hands fisting in Hanbin's hair. Hanbin looked up, his eyes meeting Zhang Hao's.

"You taste so good, Hao. I could do this all day."

Zhang Hao's breath hitched, his body arching. “Hanbinnie…” 

Hanbin slipped lower, his tongue tracing the line of Zhang Hao's balls. Zhang Hao moaned, his hips bucking. 

Hanbin smiled. "You like that, Hao? You like the way I taste you?"

Zhang Hao nodded, his breath coming in short gasps.

Hanbin’s tongue traced even lower, teasing at the pretty hole that was practically begging for attention. Zhang Hao gasped, his hands tightened on Hanbin’s hair. 

Hanbin groaned. "Relax, Hao. Let me in."

Zhang Hao took a deep breath, his body relaxing. Hanbin slipped his tongue inside, his hands gripping Zhang Hao's hips to try and keep him from moving too much. Zhang Hao moaned, his body arching.

Hanbin made sure to rub his chin over Zhang Hao’s perineum, his stubble creating a rough sensation that made Zhang Hao yelp and try to close his legs. Hanbin smirked and kept them open and spread for him with his hands. 

“F-fuck, Hanbinnie…” 

Hanbin licked and sucked, his tongue sliding in and out of Zhang Hao's ass. Zhang Hao moaned, his body writhing. Hanbin could feel the tension building in Zhang Hao's body, could feel the way his muscles were clenching around his tongue, his thighs shaking next to Hanbin’s head.

"You're close, Hao," he said, his voice a low growl. "I can taste it."

Zhang Hao nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "So close."

Hanbin slipped a finger inside, pressing against Zhang Hao's prostate. Zhang Hao cried out, his body convulsing. 

"Ohh shit, Hanbinnie.” 

Hanbin licked and sucked at the fluttering hole, three fingers now sliding in and out of Zhang Hao's ass. Zhang Hao moaned, his body limp and stretched, ready. Hanbin pulled back, his body covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Fuck, Hao. You taste so good.” 

Zhang Hao looked up at him, a smirk on his face. "And you're so fucking obsessed with me, Hanbinnie. It's pathetic."

Hanbin growled and flipped Zhang Hao onto his stomach, his hands gripping Zhang Hao's hips and pulling his ass up into position. “And you love it, Hao. You love seeing me lose control.” 

Zhang Hao laughed, a sound like velvet. "Maybe I do, Hanbinnie."

Hanbin carefully stroked his cock before he positioned it at Zhang Hao’s entrance, his cock throbbing with need. He pressed the head against Zhang Hao's ass before leaning over him and biting Zhang Hao’s ear.  "You're mine, Hao. Say it."

Zhang Hao looked back at him, his eyes shining with lust. "I'm yours, baobei. I'm yours."

Hanbin slipped inside, his cock filling Zhang Hao's ass. Zhang Hao moaned, his body arching. Hanbin groaned, his hands gripping Zhang Hao's hips.

“Fuck, Hao. I missed this so much.” 

Hanbin started to move, his cock sliding in and out of Zhang Hao's ass. Zhang Hao moaned, his body meeting Hanbin's thrusts. Hanbin could feel the heat of Zhang Hao's body, could feel the way his muscles were clenching around his cock.

"Harder, Hanbinnie. Fuck me harder."

Hanbin couldn’t say no, his body slamming into Zhang Hao's. Zhang Hao moaned, his body convulsing. Hanbin could feel the tension building in his own body, could feel the way his muscles were tensing.

"Fuck, Hao. I'm close. I'm so fucking close."

Zhang Hao looked back at him, a wicked smile on his face. “Do it. Fill me up, Hanbinnie.”

Hanbin groaned and slammed into Zhang Hao one last time, his body convulsing as he came, filling the beautiful body beneath him with his  release. 

He felt Zhang Hao’s body clamp around him, Zhang Hao moaned, his body limp and satisfied as he released without his cock being touched. Hanbin pulled out, his body covered in a sheen of sweat.

Zhang Hao carefully turned around, sprawled on the sofa like a cat that got the cream. Hanbin swallowed heavily as he saw his come dripping down Zhang Hao’s thighs and onto the sofa below. 

Zhang Hao looked up at Hanbin with that familiar, dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his lips. His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable, amusement, hunger, control. He exhaled softly, tilting his head just enough to make Hanbin feel unsteady.

"You’re so obsessed with me, Hanbin-ah." His voice was smooth, almost mocking, laced with satisfaction. "It's pathetic." He repeated. 

Hanbin laughed, low and breathless, his chest still rising and falling as he tightened his arms around Zhang Hao’s waist, pulling the smaller man flush against his body. Zhang Hao didn’t resist, only let himself be held, his weight sinking into Hanbin’s warmth.

Hanbin pressed his lips against Zhang Hao’s temple, inhaling the familiar, intoxicating scent of his skin. His body ached with satisfaction, but his heart pounded for something deeper, something more dangerous than the physical.

"And you love it, Hao," Hanbin murmured against his skin. "You love seeing me squirm."

Zhang Hao only hummed in response, smiling but not denying it.

Instead, he turned in Hanbin’s arms, settling against his chest, resting his chin on Hanbin’s shoulder as he traced lazy circles over his back. His fingers were soft, delicate, but Hanbin knew better, knew the blood they had spilled, the power they had wielded.

"Mm," Zhang Hao mused, his voice light, teasing. "And what do you plan to do now, my pathetic little coffee man?"

Hanbin smirked, shifting so their bodies pressed even closer. "I have a coffee conference tomorrow."

Zhang Hao giggled.

It was soft, unguarded, so entirely human that it made Hanbin’s heart clench painfully in his chest. He never got tired of that sound.

Zhang Hao pulled back slightly, still resting against Hanbin’s body as he gazed up at him, lips still curved into a small smile.

"And after that?"

Hanbin sighed, running his fingers down Zhang Hao’s spine. "I’m in Seoul for three days. Then I’ll head back to Cheonan." His voice dropped, quieter now. "It’s only an hour away."

He didn’t say it outright, but the meaning lingered in the space between them.

I’m close. I can come back. I will come back .

Zhang Hao exhaled slowly, his hand trailing downward until his fingers brushed over the tattoo on Hanbin’s arm, the blue roses, the delicate ice curling around them.

His touch was gentle, reverent.

Hanbin felt his breath hitch as Zhang Hao traced the ink carefully, almost as if memorising it.

"You got this for me," Zhang Hao murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hanbin swallowed hard. "You knew that already."

Zhang Hao didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he simply smiled.

Soft. Knowing. Pleased.

Finally, Zhang Hao sighed, tilting his head as he rested it against Hanbin’s shoulder once more. "I’m proud of you, Hanbin-ah," he admitted. "That you found your own life."

Hanbin’s grip tightened around Zhang Hao’s waist at the words, his chest tightening.

"You make it sound like I want to be free of you," Hanbin whispered.

Zhang Hao lifted his head slightly, his expression unreadable once more.

"Don’t you?"

Hanbin shook his head, pressing his forehead to Zhang Hao’s. His fingers curled into the fabric of Zhang Hao’s shirt, grounding himself in the warmth, in the familiarity.

"I want you in my life," Hanbin confessed. His voice was raw, desperate, absolute.

Zhang Hao closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the words. When he opened them again, they were softer, warmer, but still edged with something melancholic.

"I feel the same," Zhang Hao admitted.

Hanbin exhaled sharply. Relief. Desire. Something heavier than both.

"But," Zhang Hao continued, his fingers skimming the collar still fastened around Hanbin’s throat, "I can’t leave Zerose. They’re my family."

Hanbin understood. Of course, he did. But it still stung.

Because the life he had built, the quiet cafe, the peaceful town, the freedom, it wasn’t complete without Zhang Hao.

Still, he nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to Zhang Hao’s temple before whispering against his skin, "I’ll find you."

Zhang Hao chuckled, low and knowing, before tilting Hanbin’s chin up with his fingers. "You can’t hide from me."

Hanbin smirked. "I wouldn’t dare."

And Zhang Hao kissed him.

Slow. Deep. Consuming.

Like he was staking a claim. Like he was reminding Hanbin exactly who he belonged to. And Hanbin let him.

 

_____

Soon enough, Hanbin was back in Cheonan.

The morning air was crisp as he unlocked the doors to his cafe, the scent of fresh coffee beans filling the quiet space. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden hue over the small town. Everything here was simple, peaceful, so different from the life he had left behind.

Yet, as Hanbin moved behind the counter, preparing for the morning rush, his mind wasn’t in Cheonan. It was in Seoul.

With Zhang Hao.

He had told himself he wouldn't reach out. Wouldn’t chase.

But that was a lie.

Because every night since that club, he had found himself waiting.

Waiting for a sign. A call. A message. Anything.

But Zhang Hao had always been the patient one between them.

And Hanbin was so goddamn tired of waiting.

With a frustrated sigh, he leaned against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Thinking about someone?"

Hanbin glanced up. Yujin was leaning against the doorway, smirking as he sipped on his morning coffee.

Hanbin rolled his eyes. "Aren’t you supposed to be working?"

"I am," Yujin said, shrugging. "I'm providing emotional support."

Hanbin scoffed but didn’t argue.

Yujin narrowed his eyes, watching him closely. "You look different," he noted. "Like… restless."

Hanbin didn’t respond, only sighed, staring out the window.

"Go."

Hanbin blinked. "What?"

Yujin set his cup down, crossing his arms. "Go back to Seoul. Or wherever you need to go."

Hanbin hesitated. "I can't just leave the café—"

Yujin cut in. "You won’t focus on anything until you get whatever this is out of your system."

Hanbin stared at him, debating.

“Besides, you can always run the cafe remotely,” Yujin added as an afterthought. 

Then, without another word, Hanbin grabbed his coat and keys.

_____

 

The drive to Seoul was too long. By the time he arrived, the sun was already setting, casting a deep orange glow over the city skyline. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of the Zerose estate.

It had been nearly a year since he had last stepped foot here.

And yet, nothing had changed.

The guards at the entrance recognised him immediately, exchanging brief glances before opening the gates. No questions, no hesitation. As if they had been expecting him.

Hanbin’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped inside.

The main hall was empty, eerily quiet.

Then—

"Took you long enough."

Hanbin turned.

And there he was.

Zhang Hao stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in white, just like that night at the club. His arms were crossed, expression unreadable. But his eyes, his eyes told Hanbin everything.

Hanbin swallowed heavily. "I had a café to run."

Zhang Hao smirked, descending the stairs slowly, deliberately.

"And yet, you still came back to me."

Hanbin exhaled shakily, not bothering to deny it.

He was back. And he wasn’t leaving. Not this time.

Zhang Hao stopped in front of him, tilting his head. "What do you want, Sung Hanbin?"

Hanbin didn’t hesitate.

"You."

Zhang Hao stilled.

Hanbin took a step closer, their bodies nearly touching. "I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care what I have to do. I’m done running from this, from us." His voice was firm, certain.

"I want you," he repeated, softer this time. "However you’ll have me."

Silence.

Then—Zhang Hao smiled. Soft. Real.

"You never had to ask."

And just like that, Hanbin was home.

Notes:

Comments and Kudos appreciated 🥹🩷🩵

I have so many more Binneul that I am writing/preparing to post soon and comments truly help me and motivate me 💕💕