Archive of Our Own

Euijoo woke up with a wince.

The first thing he registered was a deep, all-over ache in his body, especially his lower back, hips, and between his legs. But it was a good kind of sore. The kind that made him want to smile even as he hissed through his teeth because it was a reminder of how completely Fuma had taken him apart and put him back together again. 

Footsteps approached from the kitchen and he turned his head to see Fuma carrying two plates balanced in each hand, steam rising from scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and thick slices of buttered toast. He had pulled on a pair of loose gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, but nothing else. The early sunlight highlighted the strong lines of his chest and the faint red trails Euijoo’s nails had left across his shoulders the night before.

“Here we go,” Fuma said softly, lowering himself onto the edge of the mattress with care so the plates wouldn’t tilt. He handed one to Euijoo before settling cross-legged among the rumpled blankets, their knees brushing. “Nothing fancy but I figured we both need something after last night.”

Euijoo accepted the plate with a grateful hum, the smell of warm food making his stomach rumble. They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the occasional clink of forks and the distant murmur of city traffic far below the apartment windows. There was something intimate about sharing this quiet moment.

When their plates were nearly empty, Fuma set his down on the floor beside the mattress and wiped his hands on a napkin. He looked at Euijoo with warm brown eyes, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“You seriously don’t need to help with the cost of the frame, you know,” he said. “I was the one who got a little carried away. The bed was old anyway. I can handle replacing it.”

Euijoo swallowed the last bite of toast and shook his head, setting his own plate aside. 

“No, I’m insisting. It’s only fair. We both broke it together. I’m not letting you cover the whole thing when I was right there enjoying every second of it.” 

Fuma let out a quiet laugh, the sound fond. He tilted his head just enough to press a slow, lingering kiss to Euijoo’s lips, tasting faintly of butter and coffee. 

 “Alright. If you’re going to be this insistent… we can split it. But only if you let me take you out on another date after. Deal?”

Euijoo smiled against Fuma’s mouth. “Deal.”

The werewolf stood first, collecting their plates before disappearing into the kitchen. When he returned, he offered Euijoo a hand up from the mattress.

“I’ll grab you some clean clothes so you’re not stuck in yesterday’s.”

Euijoo accepted the help, wincing only slightly as he rose. Fuma’s shirt was oversized on the human’s frame, the hem falling past his hips and the sleeves loose around his shoulders but it carried Fuma’s clean, woodsy scent. 

“You look good in my clothes,” Fuma murmured as he pulled on his own jeans and a simple t-shirt.

His eyes lingered appreciatively on the way the borrowed shirt draped over Euijoo’s marked collarbone, one visible bite peeking just above the neckline. He stepped close, brushing a thumb gently over the bruise before pressing a quick kiss to Euijoo’s temple.

“Ready when you are.”

They left the apartment together, Fuma’s hand resting lightly at the small of Euijoo’s back as they descended the stairs. Outside, Fuma’s truck waited in his parking spot and Euijoo climbed into the passenger seat, the soreness in his hips flaring as he settled, drawing a soft hiss from between his teeth. Fuma noticed immediately and reached over to squeeze his thigh once they were on the road, the touch comforting rather than teasing.

The furniture store was only a fifteen-minute drive away, a large warehouse-style building with wide aisles and the faint smell of fresh wood and polish. As they stepped inside, Euijoo felt a flutter of self-consciousness; the oversized shirt did little to hide the constellation of marks along his neck and jaw if anyone looked too closely. Fuma, however, moved with casual confidence, one arm sliding around Euijoo’s waist as they wandered toward the bedroom section.

A friendly associate - a man with a name tag reading “Mark” - approached them near a display of dressers. “Good morning, folks. Looking for anything in particular today?”

Fuma didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, we’re in the market for a new bed frame.”

Mark’s gaze flicked briefly between them, taking in Fuma’s arm possessively around Euijoo, the visible bite on the human’s shoulder where the borrowed shirt had slipped slightly, and the way Euijoo shifted his weight with obvious lingering discomfort. A knowing little smile tugged at the corner of the associate’s mouth. 

“Ah. I see. We get a lot of couples in here with… similar requirements.” He gestured toward a section further down the aisle. “Iron frames are your best bet. Heavy-duty steel construction, reinforced joints, weight-rated for much higher loads. Come on, I’ll show you the models we have in stock.”

Euijoo’s face burned hot with embarrassment, a deep flush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks. He ducked his head, suddenly hyper-aware of every mark on his body and the way his gait still carried a faint hitch from the night’s activities.

Fuma, however, seemed completely unbothered. His arm tightened comfortably around Euijoo’s waist, pulling him closer as they followed Mark. The werewolf’s thumb traced lazy, soothing circles against Euijoo’s side through the soft fabric of the borrowed shirt.

“These are our industrial line,” Mark continued, stopping beside several imposing iron frames. Some had sleek, modern lines; others were more ornate with thick bars. “All of them can handle well over five hundred pounds of dynamic stress. Great for… active lifestyles.” He gave them another polite, amused glance. “Any particular style you’re leaning toward?”

Fuma glanced down at Euijoo, his expression warm and teasing. “What do you think?”

Euijoo managed a small, mortified laugh, still blushing furiously as he leaned into Fuma’s side. “Maybe the simpler one? Less chance of… decorative bits getting in the way.”

Mark nodded, clearly fighting back a grin. “Excellent choice.”

As the associate walked off to fetch paperwork, Fuma turned Euijoo gently toward him, large hand cupping the back of his neck. 

“You’re cute when you blush like that,” he murmured, voice low enough that only the younger could hear. His fingers threaded lightly through Euijoo’s hair. “Don’t worry about it. He’s seen worse, I’m sure.”

Euijoo huffed, pressing his forehead briefly against Fuma’s chest. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one walking around with bite marks like a road map.”

Fuma chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I like the road map. Reminds me how good you felt last night.” He tilted Euijoo’s chin up for a quick, reassuring kiss. “And how good you’re going to feel on whatever we take home.”

The iron bed frame they chose was exactly as promised - sleek, heavy-duty, with thick black metal bars and reinforced crossbeams that looked like they could survive a small earthquake. They eventually paid 50/50 even and arranged for the store to wheel the flat-packed box out to the loading zone where Fuma’s truck waited under the midday sun, its tailgate already lowered. 

Together they hefted the long, surprisingly heavy box into the back, Euijoo’s muscles protesting with fresh twinges as he pushed from one end while Fuma lifted most of the weight from the other. 

The werewolf wiped his hands on his jeans once the box was secured with straps, then turned to Euijoo with a satisfied grin. “Solid choice but we’re not done yet. Need some new sheets too.”

Euijoo raised an eyebrow, still catching his breath. “You’re really committed to this.”

“Damn right I am.” Fuma’s fingers gave his side a gentle squeeze. “Come on. There’s a home store two blocks over.”

At the home store they wandered the linen aisle together, Fuma’s hand never straying far from Euijoo’s. They picked out a deep charcoal set that was soft, and had a high-thread-count cotton that felt luxurious under Euijoo’s fingertips, plus a couple of extra pillowcases for good measure. Euijoo insisted on paying for the sheets himself, sliding his card across the counter before Fuma could argue. 

By the time they climbed back into the truck, hunger had set in. Fuma pulled into a nearby taco truck parked at the edge of a small plaza, the kind with handwritten signs and the rich smell of grilled meat and fresh cilantro drifting on the breeze. They ordered generously - al pastor tacos, carne asada, chips with guacamole, and cold drinks - and carried the food back to the truck. Fuma lowered the tailgate with a metallic clunk, then hopped up to sit on it, patting the space beside him.

“Best seat in the house,” he said, already unwrapping a taco.

Euijoo joined him, the metal warm from the sun, their legs dangling off the edge as they ate. The food was messy and perfect - juicy, spiced, with lime and hot sauce that made Euijoo’s lips tingle. Every so often Fuma would reach over to wipe a stray bit of salsa from Euijoo’s chin with his thumb, the touch lingering just long enough to feel deliberate.

“And then?”

“And then we threw away our garbage and went back to his place to build the bedframe.” Euijoo sighed. 

"Come on, you can't tell me that's it.” Nicholas’s eyes sparkled with interest as he leaned further over the cafe table where the two of them had agreed to meet for brunch. 

Euijoo blinked, feigning innocence. “Yeah… that’s it.”

Nicholas leaned forward, elbows on the table, his expression a perfect mix of disbelief and amusement. “You’re telling me you and this werewolf bought a heavy-duty iron bed frame, loaded it into his truck, grabbed tacos, and then just… went back to his apartment? Built the bed and went your separate ways? No way. That doesn’t make sense.”

Euijoo shrugged, trying to keep his face neutral even as a small, traitorous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took a slow sip of his coffee. 

“What do you want me to say? We carried the box upstairs, unpacked the frame, and started assembling it. It was quiet and nice. End of story.”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying a single word. “Quiet? You? After the night you just described being bent over every surface, bitten, scratched, and fucked so hard the old bed literally broke, suddenly everything goes ‘quiet and nice’? Please. So don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.” Euijoo muttered out from between gritted teeth. 

“Right. Care to explain the bags under your eyes then?”

“Just… didn’t sleep well.”

“You're awfully bundled up too.”

“I'm cold.”

“In the middle of summer?”

Euijoo’s left eye twitched. “Global warming?”

Nicholas set his drink down with the smallest thunk, leaned his elbows on his knees, and fixed Euijoo with a stare that could peel paint.

“You’re lying,” he said simply.

“I - what - who - me?” Euijoo stammered, voice jumping an octave. “Why would I lie? I don’t lie.”

The supernatural creature’s expression was equal parts exasperation and amusement, his narrowed gaze never leaving Euijoo’s face. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee, letting the silence stretch just long enough to be pointed.

Euijoo had never been a good liar. Not in the harmless, white-lie way. Not in the “pretend everything’s fine” way. And definitely not in the “hide your freshly ruined body from your werewolf best friend” way. 

His entire life, dishonesty had sat on him like an ill-fitting coat - obvious, uncomfortable, and impossible to ignore. His face gave everything away. His voice betrayed him. His posture was a snitch with no loyalty. 

And he had never been able to lie to Nicholas. It was obvious today wasn’t the day he was going to start. 

“It’s actually none of your business.” Euijoo sputtered, crossing his arms tight around his chest. 

One moment he was sitting trying to look normal, the next, Nicholas had his fingers hooked in the collar of Euijoo’s shirt. 

And before the human could protest, Nicholas yanked the neckline down hard, stretching the fabric and exposing the entire mess of lingering bites, deep red crescents and fading bruises that trailed over Euijoo’s shoulder and collarbone.

Nicholas whistled low and appreciative. “Oh yeah. He got you good.”

Euijoo slapped a hand over his chest, face burning. “Nicholas!”

“What?” his best friend said, utterly unrepentant as he peered closer like he was evaluating artwork. “I forget how slowly you humans heal. Kei mauls me this much and I’m fine by morning. It's the one downside to being a werewolf.”

Euijoo sighed, looking down at the corner of a bruise peeking above his collar. “Fuma felt horrible about it.”

“He shouldn’t. This is quality work.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t. You love me. And I love you. And I especially love that you’re finally getting laid.” Nicholas giggled,  taking another sip of his drink. “Now just admit it already. You slept with Fuma.”

“You know, it’s actually none of your business.” Euijoo sputtered. 

“First of all,” his best friend said, voice matter-of-fact, “I’m the one who pushed you two together in the first place. Remember? The whole friend group agreed you needed to get properly fucked by a werewolf, and I was the one who set up the blind date with Fuma. So yes, it is absolutely my business. I have a vested interest in knowing whether my matchmaking skills produced results or if you’re still walking around half-satisfied.”

Euijoo opened his mouth to protest, but Nicholas held up a hand, cutting him off before he could speak.

“Second,” Nicholas continued, leaning forward again with a knowing smirk, “don’t try lying again I can smell the scent of sex all over you. It’s practically radiating off your skin. You’re not fooling anyone with your bullshit ‘we just assembled the bed nicely’ story. Not me, not the barista who keeps glancing over here, and definitely not yourself.”

Euijoo’s face burned hotter than the coffee in his mug. With a long, defeated sigh, he uncrossed his arms and slumped back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Fine. You win. We… may have gotten a little carried away once the frame was together. It was supposed to be just a quick test but it turned into hours. The iron held up better than the old wooden one, I’ll give it that.”

“There we go. That’s the honesty I was looking for. You owe me this victory.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Euijoo muttered.

Nicholas beamed. “You owe me EVERYTHING. Especially the details, so keep talking.”

“You’re going to be unbearable about this, aren’t you?”

Together, Fuma and Euijoo maneuvered the long, cumbersome box out of the truck and up the stairs to the apartment, Fuma taking most of the weight while Euijoo steadied the other end. Sweat beaded along Euijoo’s spine beneath the borrowed black shirt, the fabric clinging lightly to his skin as they reached the third-floor landing.

By the time they set the box down inside the living room with a heavy thud, both of them were breathing a little harder, shoulders brushing in the narrow hallway. Fuma threw the new sheets into the wash while Euijoo began to rip the tape off the giant box.

“Alright, let’s do this,” the werewolf said, already tearing open the packaging with efficient hands. Tools were laid out on the floor - screwdriver, wrench, the small Allen key that came with the frame. They worked side by side on the hardwood, knees occasionally bumping as they sorted the thick metal pieces.

Euijoo handled the instructions while Fuma lined up the heavy bars and beams, his larger hands making quick work of the bolts. There was an easy rhythm between them: Euijoo reading off the next step, Fuma tightening joints, the occasional shared laugh when a piece didn’t quite line up on the first try. The process felt surprisingly natural, almost domestic as their bodies moved in quiet coordination.

Within an hour and a half the iron frame stood solid and imposing in the bedroom, sleek black metal gleaming under the overhead light. It looked unbreakable with thick bars forming the headboard and footboard, reinforced cross-supports running beneath where the mattress would rest. No delicate wood to splinter or crack under pressure.

They moved the mattress from the living room back into the bedroom together. Once the mattress was centered perfectly on the new frame, Euijoo took the fresh charcoal sheets from the dryer and tucked the fitted sheet over the corners, then smoothed the flat sheet and duvet into place with careful hands. 

Fuma stepped back once everything was done, hands on his hips, surveying the finished product with clear satisfaction. “Ta da. Brand new bed.”

He turned to Euijoo, expression softening. “Hey… thanks for helping with all of this. For insisting on paying half, for coming with me today, for everything.” 

Before Euijoo could respond, Fuma pulled him into a firm hug, strong arms wrapping around his waist and drawing him close against his broad chest. Euijoo melted into the embrace, breathing in Fuma’s warm, clean scent mixed with the faint trace of sweat from their work. The hug lingered, comfortable and grounding, until Fuma tilted Euijoo’s chin up gently with one hand.

Their lips met in a soft, grateful kiss. At first it was a quiet thank you pressed mouth to mouth but the moment stretched, deepening naturally as Euijoo’s hands slid up Fuma’s chest to rest on his shoulders. Fuma’s tongue traced the seam of Euijoo’s lips, coaxing them open, and the kiss turned heated, tongues sliding together with growing hunger. Fuma’s hands tightened on Euijoo’s waist, pulling their bodies flush, one palm slipping just under the hem of the borrowed shirt to rest against bare skin.

When they finally parted for air, Fuma’s forehead rested against Euijoo’s, breath warm and slightly ragged. A small, teasing smile curved his lips. “Want to break this thing in properly?”

Euijoo nodded, a soft, breathless giggle escaping his lips as heat bloomed across his cheeks and down his chest. The sound was light and playful, laced with anticipation, and it seemed to ignite something in Fuma. The werewolf’s eyes darkened with clear intent, a low hum of approval vibrating in his throat.

Before Euijoo could say another word, Fuma kissed him harder, tongue sliding past willing lips to stroke and tangle in a wet, demanding rhythm. One large hand splayed across Euijoo’s lower back, pulling their bodies flush together, while the other cupped the back of Euijoo’s neck, fingers threading possessively through his hair. Fuma pressed forward, sucking lightly on Euijoo’s tongue before nipping at his lower lip hard enough to draw a quiet moan as the backs of the younger’s thighs bumped into the mattress.

Fuma then stripped Euijoo out of the borrowed black shirt in seconds, tossing them aside without ceremony. The new charcoal sheets felt cool and smooth against Euijoo’s overheated skin as Fuma pushed him down onto his back, crawling over him with predatory focus. 

“And yeah… you know how sex works.”

“So,” Nicholas said, his grin widening into something downright mischievous, “is that why you could only meet me now? Four whole days after your original date with Fuma? Because you’ve been too busy getting fucked within an inch of your life on that fancy new iron bed?”

Euijoo’s face flushed a bright, mortified red. He ducked his head, staring down into his half-empty latte as if it could hide him. A long, defeated sigh escaped him, shoulders slumping as the heat crept all the way down his neck. The soreness between his legs was a private echo of how many times Fuma had driven him into the mattress, hands locked around the cool iron bars while powerful thrusts rocked the entire frame.

“It wasn’t just fucking,” Euijoo mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. He shifted in his seat, wincing slightly at the fresh ache that flared with the movement. “We did more than that. We… talked. Ate together. Watched a movie one night. He made me breakfast again yesterday. It wasn’t all just… you know.”

Nicholas threw his head back and laughed out loud, the rich, delighted sound drawing a couple of curious glances from nearby tables. He didn’t seem to care, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he grinned even wider.

“Oh, Euijoo. That’s adorable. You’re out here trying to convince me there was emotional bonding happening between all the rounds of getting railed into next week.” He reached across the table and patted Euijoo’s hand with mock solemnity. “I’m proud of you, honestly. You listened to your best friend’s excellent advice and let a werewolf ruin you for all other men. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. On a reinforced iron frame, no less.”

Euijoo groaned, covering his burning face with both hands, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips beneath them. 

“Juju. My sweet, hopeless, terrible liar of a friend.” His grin sharpened into something wicked and satisfied. “You know what this means, don’t you? You are no longer allowed to call yourself supernaturally sexually inexperienced. You’re dating a damn werewolf now. And apparently one with an agenda.”

Euijoo made a distressed noise. “I’m not finished.”

“There’s more?”

“We… might be seeing each other again today.”

Nicholas barked out a loud laugh, nearly spilling his coffee. “Oh my god. You absolute slut,” he teased, the word delivered with pure affection and amusement. “You’re going back for more.”

Euijoo’s eyes widened, and he sat up straighter, cheeks burning hotter than ever. 

“It’s not like that!” he protested, though the denial came out half-laughing, half-mortified. “Fuma wanted to take me on a proper date. Like… a real one. Dinner, maybe a walk after. He said he wants to do things right, not just keep me locked in his apartment getting railed every night.”

“Euijoo, I’m not judging you. If a man broke my bed and then broke me, I would’ve shown up the next day with a ring. That's literally what I did with Kei.”

Euijoo groaned, dropping his forehead onto the table for a second before lifting it again, face still bright red. “This feels different. I don’t know, it’s like he actually wants more than just the physical stuff. We’ve been talking a lot between… everything else. He’s surprisingly sweet when he’s not trying to fuck me through the headboard.”

Nicholas reached across the table and gave Euijoo’s hand a quick, supportive squeeze. “Hey, I’m happy for you. Really. Go enjoy your ‘proper date.’ I told you Fuma was a good guy, yeah? You deserve to be treated well like this.”

Euijoo shook his head, still flushed but smiling now, his stomach fluttering in excitement for tonight. 

The afternoon light had long since faded into evening by the time Euijoo walked up to Fuma’s apartment building. The nervous flutter in his stomach had only grown stronger on the walk over. It was strange, almost ridiculous. The werewolf had already seen every inch of him: naked, sweating, moaning, covered in bite marks and bruises, bent over the new bedframe while being fucked so hard the mattress shifted with every thrust. Yet here he was, heart beating a little too fast, palms slightly clammy. A proper date felt somehow more exposing than all the raw, filthy sex they’d shared over the past four days.

Fuma was already waiting outside when Euijoo arrived, leaning casually against the brick wall near the entrance with his hands in his pockets. He looked good with his hair still slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it moments ago. The moment their eyes met, Fuma’s face broke into a warm, easy smile that made the human's nerves settle just a fraction.

He stepped straight into the offered hug and the werewolf’s arms wrapped around him firmly, solid and grounding, one hand rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. Then Fuma tilted his head down and kissed him softly. Euijoo sighed into it, hands resting on the older’s chest, the nervousness easing under the familiar warmth of Fuma’s mouth.

When they pulled apart, Fuma’s thumb brushed gently over the human’s cheek. 

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” Euijoo replied, voice a little quieter than usual.

Fuma didn’t let go of him completely. Instead, he slid his hand down to catch Euijoo’s, fingers lacing together.

“Come on.”

But once they were inside the elevator, he pressed the button for the top floor instead of the one for the floor he lived on. Euijoo blinked in confusion, glancing back at the wolf.

“Wait… I thought we were going out somewhere?” he asked, brows furrowing as they began climbing the grated steps. The evening air was cool against his skin, carrying the distant sounds of the city below. “Like dinner or a walk or something?”

Fuma glanced over his shoulder, a playful grin spreading across his face. It made Euijoo’s stomach flip in an entirely different way. “We are going out. Sort of.”

He didn’t explain further, just squeezed Euijoo’s hand and continued leading him up a set of stairs until they reached the roof access door. Fuma pushed it open with his free hand, revealing the wide, flat rooftop bathed in the soft glow of early evening lights.

String lights had been strung along the low parapet walls, casting a warm golden hue over a simple but thoughtful setup: a small folding table covered with a dark cloth, two chairs, takeout bags, a couple of candles already flickering in glass holders, and a bottle of wine chilling in a makeshift ice bucket.

Euijoo stopped at the threshold, eyes widening as he took it all in. “You set this up?”

Fuma turned to face him fully, still holding his hand, grin softening into something more sincere. “For purely selfish reasons I wanted to keep you to myself a little bit longer. So I figured a rooftop date would be private enough for us but still a proper date.”

Euijoo let out a soft laugh, stepping fully onto the roof and letting Fuma lead him over to the small folding table. He then pulled out one of the chairs for the human with a small, almost shy smile before taking the seat across from him.

“I’m sorry about not being able to cook,” Fuma said as he started unpacking the takeout bags. “Work ran later than I expected, so I grabbed this on the way home. Hope that’s okay.”

Euijoo’s eyes lit up as he recognized the familiar containers filled with perfectly grilled bulgogi, spicy pork belly, kimchi jjigae still steaming, a generous portion of japchae, and several banchan sides. He couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across his face.

“This is actually my favourite,” he admitted, voice warm with surprise. “Korean food, I mean. Especially the spicy stuff. You nailed it.”

Fuma looked genuinely pleased, his shoulders relaxing as he poured wine into two plastic cups. Euijoo glanced around as he spooned some japchae onto his plate, taking in the view properly.

The rooftop offered a stunning panorama with the sun just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and deepening purples that reflected off the glass windows of nearby buildings. Below them, the steady hum of evening traffic rose up with cars gliding along the streets like slow-moving rivers of light, horns blaring in the distance.

“This view is incredible,” Euijoo said softly, gesturing with his chopsticks toward the horizon. “I didn’t even know you could get up here.”

Fuma chuckled as he served himself some bulgogi. “Yeah, the building manager gave me access after I helped him move some equipment last month. Figured it would be perfect for tonight.”

They ate slowly, the conversation flowing easily between bites as the sun continued its slow descent, turning the sky into a deeper canvas of twilight colours. Every so often Fuma’s foot would brush against Euijoo’s under the table, a small touch that sent sparks up Euijoo’s leg.

When the last traces of dinner had been cleared away, containers neatly stacked back into the bags. Fuma had pulled a thick, soft blanket from somewhere near the door and spread it out on a flatter section of the rooftop, away from the table but still offering the full, breathtaking view. They settled onto it together, the string lights twinkling overhead like tiny stars while the city continued its hum below.

Euijoo sat between Fuma’s legs, leaning back against the werewolf’s broad chest. Fuma’s arms wrapped around him securely, one hand resting lightly over Euijoo’s stomach, the other draped across his chest. The evening breeze had cooled, but Fuma’s body heat kept the chill at bay, his chin resting gently on top of the human’s head. 

Euijoo let out a slow, contented breath and relaxed fully into the embrace. It made him feel completely at home in a way that surprised him deeply. He had only known Fuma for less than a week yet here he was, ready to stay nestled against the werewolf’s chest forever. 

After a few more peaceful minutes, Fuma gently pulled back just enough to look down at him. Euijoo tilted his head up, meeting those warm, dark eyes that seemed to hold the last glow of sunset in them. Fuma leaned in and kissed him, their lips moving softly together while his hand cupped Euijoo’s jaw.

When they parted, Fuma rested his forehead against Euijoo’s.

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly over Euijoo’s cheek. “But I really like you, Euijoo.”

He paused, searching Euijoo’s face as if trying to find the right words.

“For werewolves… liking someone isn’t quite the same as it is for humans. If our inner wolf likes someone the feelings get amplified. A lot. It’s not just attraction or affection. It’s not just the physical stuff - though we’re obviously really compatible that way. It’s deeper. Like everything inside me is pulling toward you, wanting to protect you, touch you, be near you.”

Euijoo’s heart stuttered in his chest, a mix of warmth and nervous flutter blooming inside him. He stayed cuddled close, one hand coming up to rest over Fuma’s where it lay against his stomach, fingers intertwining. The gentle breeze ruffled their hair, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the faint scent of the evening air.

Fuma took a slow breath, his hand sliding down to rest over Euijoo’s chest, right above his heart.

“I know this is a bit sudden. We’ve only known each other less than a week, and most humans would probably want to take things way slower. That’s completely okay if you do. I get it. But my inner wolf won’t shut up about you. It’s been loud since the first night, and it’s only getting louder. So I figured I might as well just say it instead of letting it drive me crazy.”

Fuma pulled back just enough to look Euijoo straight in the eyes, his expression soft but serious, a hint of nervous hope flickering there.

“Euijoo… would you be my boyfriend?”

Euijoo’s heart thumped hard in his chest, a warm, fluttering rush that had nothing to do with nerves anymore and everything to do with the man holding him. He looked up into Fuma’s eyes, a small, genuine smile curving his lips.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Fuma’s breath caught, relief and joy flickering across his face as Euijoo continued.

“I may not have an inner wolf screaming at me, but my heart feels the same way. I like you a lot too, Fuma. More than I expected to this quickly. It feels really right being with you.”

The werewolf’s smile widened at Euijoo’s answer, bright and unguarded. Without a word, he shifted his grip and gently pulled Euijoo forward, guiding him until the human was straddling his lap. Euijoo settled easily, knees bracketing Fuma’s hips, their bodies pressed close from chest to thigh. The new position brought them even nearer, faces inches apart under the soft glow of the string lights.

They leaned in at the same time, mouths meeting again in a kiss. The younger sighed into it, hands coming up to frame Fuma’s face as he kissed his new boyfriend back just as eagerly. Their kisses grew wetter, breaths mingling hotly between them as tongues tangled and lips sucked and nipped.

Fuma’s palms roamed greedily as they slid up Euijoo’s back beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the faint ridges along his spine. Euijoo wasn’t any better. His own hands wandered restlessly as they rubbed over Fuma’s broad shoulders, down the firm planes of his chest, then around to map the strong muscles of his back. He tangled fingers in Fuma’s hair, tugging lightly, before sliding down again to feel the warm skin at the nape of his neck and the roll of muscle along his arms.

Euijoo rocked slightly in Fuma’s lap, the friction sending sparks through his body. The wolf slid his hands lower to palm his ass and with a low, encouraging sound in the back of his throat, he pulled Euijoo’s hips forward, guiding him to grind down.

“That’s it,” Fuma murmured against his lips, voice husky and rough with want. He kept one hand on Euijoo’s hip, helping guide the grind while the other roamed up his back again, slipping under the borrowed shirt to trace warm skin and lingering bruises. “Just like that, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Euijoo’s only response was a soft, needy whimper, hips rolling down again under Fuma’s guiding hands, chasing more of that delicious friction. Heat pooled low in his belly, his cock hardening fully in his pants as he ground down again and before he could even think twice, his hands were yanking desperately at the hem of Fuma’s shirt, fingers clumsy with need.

“Off,” he muttered against Fuma’s mouth, voice already hoarse. “Please.”

Fuma let out an amused chuckle as he helped Euijoo tug the shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside onto the blanket. The moment the fabric was gone, the human’s palms slid greedily over the newly exposed skin. He traced the firm planes of Fuma’s chest, thumbs brushing over nipples, then down the defined ridges of his abs, fingers digging in just enough to feel the muscle shift under his touch.

Fuma’s hands weren’t idle either. As soon as Euijoo’s hands were busy, Fuma grabbed the bottom of the shirt the human was still wearing and yanked it upward. Euijoo lifted his arms without hesitation, letting Fuma pull it off and throw it somewhere behind them. Cool evening air kissed his bare chest and back, raising goosebumps, but the chill lasted only a second before Fuma’s large, warm palms were on him again stroking up his sides.

Their grinding grew a little more insistent, the blanket shift beneath them. Euijoo’s cock throbbed against the confines of his pants, leaking and sensitive, while Fuma’s thick erection pressed up insistently, the heat of it obvious even through denim. 

The kiss broke with a wet, shared gasp, both of them breathing hard under the string lights. Their hands moved frantically now, driven by the same urgent need. Fuma shoved his jeans and underwear down his hips in one rough motion, kicking them off to the side of the blanket. Euijoo did the same, shimmying out of his pants until they were both completely naked, skin flushed and heated against the cool evening air.

Fuma immediately reached for him again, large hands sliding up Euijoo’s thighs, but Euijoo shook his head quickly, a determined little smile on his swollen lips.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Before Fuma could protest, Euijoo shifted onto his knees on the soft blanket. He leaned down, eyes locked on the thick, heavy cock standing hard and flushed in front of him. Even after all the times they’d fucked in the past four days Euijoo had never gotten the chance to do this. Fuma had always been too focused on him and make him fall apart over and over again.

But tonight Euijoo wanted to give.

He wrapped one hand around the base of Fuma’s huge cock and dragged his tongue slowly up the entire length, from base to tip, savouring the salty, musky taste. A low groan rumbled out of Fuma’s chest, his hips twitching involuntarily.

Opening his mouth wider, Euijoo took the head inside, lips stretching as he sank down slowly. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked gently at first, then deeper, taking as much as he could while his hand stroked what wouldn’t fit.

Fuma’s hand came down to cup the back of Euijoo’s head, not pushing, just resting there with trembling restraint. “Euijoo… fuck,” he breathed, voice rough and strained. “Ah shit, that feels good.”

Euijoo hummed around the cock in his mouth as he pushed himself further, relaxing his throat as much as he could, eyes watering slightly as the head bumped the back of his mouth. The sounds Fuma made told him he was doing a good job, even if he couldn’t take the whole length yet.

Eventually Fuma’s grip tightened and he gently but firmly pulled Euijoo off his cock with a wet pop. Strings of saliva connected Euijoo’s swollen lips to the glistening head for a moment before breaking.

“Enough,” the werewolf rasped, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust. “I really want to make you feel good too.”

Before Euijoo could protest, Fuma grabbed his hips and pulled him back onto his lap, straddling him once more. Their bare cocks slid together hotly between their stomachs as Euijoo settled. Fuma’s hands immediately roamed down Euijoo’s back, palms smoothing over warm skin and lingering bruises, then lower, cupping his ass and spreading him open.

Two thick fingers trailed down his crack and pressed against his hole - only to slip inside with almost no resistance, gliding easily in. Fuma pulled back just enough to look at Euijoo, a playful pout forming on his lips. 

“I wanted to help prep you.” he murmured, fingers curling inside.

Euijoo let out a soft, breathless giggle, cheeks flushed as he rocked down onto the fingers. “It was more efficient to do it myself before I came over,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to waste any time once I got here.”

Fuma’s pout melted into a low, amused chuckle as he kept pumping his fingers slowly. “My eager little boyfriend,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss Euijoo’s swollen lips. “Always thinking ahead.”

Euijoo moaned softly into the kiss, hips rolling to meet the thrust of Fuma’s fingers. But the wolf was moving too slow and Euijoo was getting impatient. He reached between them with a shaky hand, wrapping his fingers around Fuma’s thick, spit-slick cock and lifted himself slightly on his knees, lined the blunt head up against his already loosened hole, and began to sink down.

The thick head pushed past the rim with a slow, burning pressure that made Euijoo’s breath hitch. He paused, chest rising and falling quickly, eyes squeezed shut as he focused on breathing through it.

“Easy… breathe, baby,” Fuma murmured, voice strained. His fingers dug hard into Euijoo’s hips, grip almost bruising as he fought to stay still and let the younger set the pace.

Euijoo nodded shakily and kept going, inch by inch. The burn was a stinging stretch that radiated through his muscles, but the pain twisted quickly into something hotter and sweeter. Every time he sank lower, the pleasure flared brighter, turning the ache into liquid heat that pooled in his belly and made his own cock twitch and leak against Fuma’s stomach. A low, broken moan slipped from his lips as he took another inch. 

“Fuck… so big,” he whispered, voice wrecked.

Fuma’s grip tightened even more, fingertips pressing deep enough to leave fresh marks over the old bruises. His thighs trembled beneath Euijoo from the effort of holding back, muscles rock-hard with restraint. He held on, breathing raggedly through his nose while he watched his cock disappear slowly into Euijoo’s body.

“You’re taking me so well,” the werewolf groaned, voice low and rough. 

Euijoo moaned again, louder this time, as he finally sank all the way down until his ass was settled flush against Fuma’s hips, the thick length buried to the hilt inside him. 

Ever since their first night together when Fuma had fucked him raw and broken the old bed - Euijoo had quietly realized something about himself: he liked the pain. Not just tolerated it, he craved it. The burning stretch, the deep ache, the way his body protested and then melted into overwhelming pleasure… it all turned him on in a way he’d never known before.

So instead of staying still and letting himself adjust, Euijoo lifted his hips and sank back down almost immediately, a shaky, eager moan tearing from his throat.

The burn flared hot and bright as he planted his hands on Fuma’s chest for leverage and started rolling his hips in earnest, taking the full length with every downward stroke. Each thrust sent a jolt of stinging pain through his ass and hips that quickly twisted into dizzying pleasure. His walls clenched tightly around Fuma’s cock, the friction almost too much, yet exactly what he wanted.

“Euijoo - ” Fuma groaned, fingers digging even harder into Euijoo’s hips, nails biting into skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re not even - ah - slow down if it hurts - ”

But Euijoo shook his head, breath coming in short, desperate pants as he rode his boyfriend with increasing urgency.

“I like it,” he admitted, voice wrecked but honest. “Want to feel you. All of you.”

He lifted up until only the head remained inside him, then slammed back down hard, a sharp cry escaping as the brutal stretch and deep pressure made stars burst behind his eyelids. The pain was exquisite, making his cock leak steadily onto Fuma’s stomach. 

The werewolf’s grip turned almost bruising, thumbs pressing hard into the already-marked flesh of Euijoo’s hips as he fought the urge to thrust up. His chest heaved beneath Euijoo’s palms, eyes dark and fixed on where they were joined, watching his thick cock disappear into the younger’s body again and again.

The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping against skin filled the rooftop, mixing with their ragged breathing. His thighs trembled from the effort, the deep soreness from the past four days mixing with the fresh burn of being fucked so soon after prepping himself. Every downward thrust sent sparks of pain-pleasure shooting up his spine, making his untouched cock bounce and drip between them.

Euijoo leaned down fully, pressing their bare chests flush together as he continued riding Fuma with desperate, uneven strokes. Their mouths met in a messy, open-mouthed kiss - tongues sliding wetly, lips sucking and biting, breaths shared in hot, ragged gasps. The new angle made Fuma’s thick cock drag even deeper inside him, the stretch burning brighter with every downward roll of Euijoo’s hips.

Fuma groaned into the kiss, one hand sliding up Euijoo’s sweat-damp back while the other stayed locked on his hip. Then both of Fuma’s large hands moved lower, gripping Euijoo’s ass firmly. His fingers dug in hard, spreading his cheeks wide apart and without any warning, Fuma took over.

He planted his feet on the blanket and started fucking up into Euijoo with hard, powerful thrusts. The shift was sudden and intense - each upward snap of Fuma’s hips drove his cock deep, slamming into Euijoo with enough force to jolt his entire body. The wet slap of skin against skin grew louder, sharper, echoing slightly across the quiet rooftop.

Euijoo could only moan helplessly into Fuma’s mouth as he clung to his boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back as he was fucked hard from below. 

“F-Fuma - ah!” The human cried out as another hard thrust punched the air out of him. He could feel Fuma’s cock dragging against his prostate with every stroke, the thick length splitting him open over and over again. 

One trembling hand slid down between their bodies and Euijoo’s fingers wrapped around his own aching cock - already slick with precum and hypersensitive from all the friction against Fuma’s stomach. He only managed a few frantic strokes, tight and desperate, before the pleasure crested hard and fast.

“Fuma - I’m - ah - !”

Euijoo’s back arched sharply as he came with a loud, wrecked moan. Thick ropes of cum spurted across their chest and abs in messy stripes, painting the warm skin in pearly white. His hole clenched tightly around Fuma’s cock with every pulse, fluttering and squeezing as the orgasm ripped through him. 

With a low, guttural growl, the werewolf suddenly flipped them in one smooth, powerful motion. Euijoo’s hands and knees hit the soft blanket with a surprised gasp, the impact barely registering before Fuma was on behind him, pushing his knees wide apart before driving his thick cock back inside him in one hard, deep thrust.

Euijoo cried out, back arching as the new angle let Fuma fuck into him even harder. The werewolf braced one hand the ground and the other on the human's hip, slamming forward with relentless force. 

Each powerful thrust punched the air out of Euijoo’s lungs, Fuma’s heavy cock driving straight into him over and over again. Euijoo’s freshly spent cock twitched weakly between them, oversensitive and still leaking as Fuma fucked him through the aftershocks.

“F-Fuma - oh god - ” Euijoo moaned loudly, hands slipping on the blanket, elbows going weak, causing him to nearly fall forward on his face. 

But even through the overwhelming pleasure, a sudden, embarrassed thought flashed through his mind: the taller apartment buildings nearby. If anyone happened to look out their window right now - if someone stepped onto their own balcony or glanced over at just the right moment - they might see everything. 

The idea sent a shameful thrill through him, cheeks burning even hotter as another loud moan was fucked out of him.

Fuma didn’t seem to care at all. He pushed against the back of Euijoo's head, keeping him pinned down so he could drive even deeper, the head of his cock bullying Euijoo’s prostate with every punishing thrust. The blanket bunched beneath Euijoo as he was fucked hard into it, body jolting with every slam of Fuma’s hips.

“Fuck you’re taking me so well, baby,” Fuma panted, eyes dark and wild as he looked down at Euijoo’s flushed, pleasure-drunk face. 

Leaning down, he dragged his tongue slowly over Euijoo’s back, licking up the sweat. His mouth moved higher, tongue lapping at the mess on the human’s neck before he suddenly sank his teeth into the sensitive skin just below the younger's jaw.

“Fuma!” Euijoo moaned loudly as his hole clenched impossibly tight around Fuma’s cock.

Fuma groaned deeply against his neck, the sound vibrating through Euijoo’s skin as he kept thrusting hard, never slowing. He licked over the bite again, then sucked hard, adding another dark bruise to the collection already decorating Euijoo’s body.

Euijoo could only moan and drool as he was folded and fucked senseless, every rough slam making him whimper and tremble.

The werewolf kept his weight pressed down, using the leverage to drive into Euijoo even harder before one of his hands slid between their bodies, wrapping around Euijoo’s oversensitive cock. He started stroking him, thumb swiping over the leaking head on every upstroke.

Euijoo’s eyes widened, a broken whine escaping his throat. “Fuma wait, it’s too much - ah - I just came - ”

The overstimulation burned and his spent cock twitching painfully in Fuma’s grip, every stroke sending sparks that bordered on too intense. He tried to squirm, but Fuma had him pinned too well, body trapped beneath the werewolf’s solid weight.

Fuma responded by biting down hard on the junction of the younger's neck and shoulder. Euijoo let out a loud, strangled cry, his whole body jerking violently beneath Fuma. 

The bite worked exactly as intended. Euijoo’s complaint dissolved into a desperate, keening moan, his hips twitching helplessly as the overwhelming sensations pushed him closer and closer to the edge again.

His whole body seized up, back arching as much as it could under Fuma’s weight, and he came again. His hole clenched around Fuma’s thick length as the orgasm tore through him, leaving him shaking and gasping beneath his boyfriend.

Fuma groaned deeply at the feeling, the tight heat around his cock finally tipping him over the edge. He buried himself to the hilt with one final, brutal thrust, hips pressed flush against Euijoo’s ass as he came hard.

Hot, thick pulses of cum flooded Euijoo’s hole, filling him as the werewolf kept grinding in slow, shallow circles, milking every last drop into his boyfriend.

Fuma finally released the bite, licking gently over the raw skin before lifting his head to look at Euijoo. His eyes were soft now with satisfaction and affection as he took in his boyfriend’s wrecked expression - flushed face still pressed against the blanket, swollen lips, tear-streaked cheeks, and the mess of cum painting both their bodies.

“You’re incredible,” Fuma murmured, voice hoarse but warm. He leaned down to press a slow, gentle kiss to Euijoo’s lips, the roughness from moments ago giving way to tender aftercare. “You did so good for me.”

Euijoo could only manage a weak, blissed-out smile, his body still twitching with aftershocks as the city lights continued to sparkle far below, the string lights glowing softly above them.

Eventually the werewolf pulled back with a soft sound, pressing one last kiss to Euijoo’s forehead before carefully easing his hips back. He slipped out slowly, both of them hissing at the sensation. A thick trickle of cum immediately leaked from Euijoo’s puffy, well-used hole, dripping down onto the blanket beneath him. Euijoo let out a small, embarrassed whimper at the feeling.

Fuma reached for the small stack of leftover napkins from their dinner, gently wiping Euijoo clean first - careful strokes between his thighs, over his stomach and chest, then tenderly around his sensitive hole. Euijoo blushed deeply but stayed still, letting his boyfriend take care of him. Once Euijoo was mostly clean, Fuma quickly wiped himself down too, then helped Euijoo sit up on the blanket.

They dressed in comfortable silence, pulling on underwear, pants, and shirts with slow, tired movements. Euijoo’s legs felt like jelly when he stood, and Fuma had to steady him with a hand on his waist, a small, fond smile on his lips.

Once they were both decent again, Fuma pulled Euijoo into his arms, wrapping him in a warm, secure hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of Euijoo’s head, then tilted his chin up gently so their eyes could meet.

“How do you feel?” Fuma asked softly, voice still a little rough from earlier but full of genuine concern. His thumb brushed lightly over Euijoo’s cheek, tracing one of the fresh bite marks on his neck. “Be honest with me, baby. Was it too much? Any pain that doesn’t feel good?”

Euijoo leaned into the touch, a tired but content smile tugging at his swollen lips. 

“It all felt amazing.”

The next few months ended up slipping by in a kind of quiet domesticity Euijoo never knew he could want this badly. He still couldn’t pin down what part of Fuma’s intensity was the wolf and what part was just… Fuma. The way he moved, the way he looked at Euijoo like he was the only thing worth hunting in the entire world. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it worked.

Being in a relationship with a werewolf changed Euijoo for the better in several ways. Usually he spent his weekends curled up on the couch and catching up on whatever drama he was too tired to watch during the week but Fuma loved being outside. Needed it, really. 

Fuma’s wolf needed the forest like Euijoo needed coffee to survive Monday mornings. So, almost every weekend they packed water, snacks, put on whatever random playlist Euijoo was obsessed with that week, and drove out to find a new trail.

It didn’t matter if it was a gentle one-hour loop through maple forests or a brutal six-hour climb that left Euijoo’s legs shaking by the end - Fuma was up for both with the same bright-eyed excitement.

Euijoo loved watching him on those hikes. Fuma would walk just a half-step ahead, head tilted like he was listening to the woods themselves, nostrils flaring every so often when the wind shifted. He never said anything about it, but Euijoo could tell the wolf was happy - content in a way that made his whole demeanor loosen.

And Fuma took care of him without making it feel like babysitting. He’d slow down when Euijoo’s pace started to drag, point out cool rocks or weird mushrooms to distract him from the burn in his calves, and always carried the heavier pack without being asked.

At the summit or a quiet lookout point, Fuma would pull Euijoo against his chest, arms wrapped around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder while they watched the view. 

Euijoo would come home with dirt on his shoes, new freckles across his nose, and a pleasant ache in his muscles that had nothing to do with the bedroom for once. He never knew how much he needed that balance until Fuma gave it to him. 

The city could have the rest of the week. Weekends belonged to the woods, to Fuma’s happy little growls when they found a new waterfall or untouched ridge, and to the quiet certainty settling deeper in Euijoo’s chest with every hike.

Fuma was also, without question, the best partner Euijoo had ever had.

He was attentive in the small ways that counted like always remembering Euijoo liked his coffee with a splash of oat milk and two sugars, leaving little notes on the fridge when he had early schedules, texting dumb memes at 2 a.m. just because he knew Euijoo was still awake scrolling. Smart, too. Their late-night conversations could swing from music theory to the ethics of immortality without missing a beat, Fuma’s low voice was comforting in the dark. He was funny too, in that dry, deadpan way that snuck up on you. 

They balanced each other perfectly. Fuma loved being close and would curl around Euijoo on the couch like a living weighted blanket, nose tucked against his neck but he also understood the need for space. Some nights he’d disappear into the woods for a run, coming back flushed and bright-eyed, smelling like pine and moonlight, only to pull Euijoo into bed and kiss him slow and grateful, like the run had only made him hungrier for home.

Fuma also really liked taking care of him. Especially when it came to cooking - thick cuts of steak seared rare, just the way Euijoo liked after long days, juices running pink when he sliced them. He’d plate it with vegetables and rice, then watch with satisfied eyes while Euijoo ate, one hand resting possessively on his thigh under the table. “Good?” he’d ask, voice low. Euijoo would nod, cheeks warm, and Fuma would grin for an hour afterwards. 

But it was the nights that really undid him.

Fuma was obsessed. He worshipped Euijoo’s body like it was sacred and sinful at the same time. Hands that could snap bone moved with devastating gentleness at first, tracing every line of muscle, every dip and curve, learning what made Euijoo shiver, what made him arch, what made him beg.

Euijoo had never considered himself vanilla, but dating a werewolf was rewriting every definition he thought he knew about pleasure. He seriously had been missing out. It was addictive.

After sex Euijoo would lay on his stomach while Fuma traced gentle fingers over the damage he’d left behind. Dark fingerprints on his hips. A ring of teeth marks on his shoulder. Mottled bruises blooming across his ass and thighs from the relentless snap of Fuma’s hips. Every press of Fuma’s fingertips sent little sparks of soreness through him in sweet, grounding reminders.

“Too much?” Fuma asked quietly, always checking even when Euijoo had begged for it.

Euijoo shook his head, smiling into the pillow. “Perfect. I like waking up like this.”

Fuma made a soft, pleased sound and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done marking you up, baby.”

Euijoo shivered at the promise in that voice. He stretched languidly, savouring the deep ache in his muscles, the way his body felt thoroughly claimed and used and adored.

Yeah. He’d definitely been missing out. But he had forever to make up for lost time.

Euijoo had only been in love twice before.

The first time was when he was a kid and it was some innocent, playground-level crush that barely counted as love at all. The second was with his ex-boyfriend, a relationship that had felt serious at the time but even that paled in comparison to what he felt for Fuma. What he felt now wasn’t just love. It was something heavier, like gravity had shifted and Fuma was the new center of his universe. Euijoo knew it in his bones. He was in love with the werewolf - madly, stupidly, irreversibly.

He just hadn’t said it yet.

It felt too soon. Too big. They’d only been together a handful of months, even if every day felt like it carried the weight of years. What if saying it out loud scared Fuma off? So Euijoo kept the words locked behind his teeth, letting them warm him from the inside instead.

Until one night at the bar with the guys.

He was definitely drunk. His cheeks were flushed, the world tilting pleasantly, the kind of buzz that made secrets feel safe to spill. They were squeezed into a booth, laughter loud over the music, when Nicholas leaned in to tease him about something stupid. Euijoo’s mouth moved faster than his brain.

“I wanna marry him,” he blurted, voice slurry but earnest. “Like, spend the rest of my life with him.”

Nicholas burst out laughing, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Marry?” his best friend echoed, grinning. “Or mate?”

Euijoo blinked slowly, the words taking a moment to land. Nicholas’s fingers brushed absently over the faint scar on the side of his own neck - the mating mark, silvery and permanent, always just visible above his collar.

“…Both?” He muttered and Nicholas’s grin turned downright wicked like he’d just been handed the juiciest piece of blackmail in existence.

“Oh man, Fuma’s gonna lose his mind,” Nicholas howled. “Wait till he finds out his cute little boyfriend wants -”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Kei’s hand shot out, clamping firmly over his mate’s mouth. With a low, fond chuckle, Kei dragged Nicholas back against his side, pinning him there effortlessly. Nicholas made a muffled, indignant noise but melted into the older’s hold anyway, eyes still sparkling with mischief.

Kei met Euijoo’s wide-eyed gaze across the table and winked. “Don’t worry, Juju. Your secret’s safe with us.”

Euijoo let out a shaky laugh, face burning hotter than the cheap bar lights overhead. 

Before dating Fuma even Euijoo knew that almost all werewolves needed to shift. It was an important part of connecting with their inner wolf and keeping their supernatural biology running smoothly or whatever. He didn’t know, however, how much it affected them in the week leading up to the shift. 

It wasn't like in the movies where they got snarly or distant or aggressive. If anything, the wolf in him just… needed more. More closeness. More contact. More Euijoo.

Fuma grew clingier, more openly possessive in a way that felt less like jealousy and more like pure instinct. He’d come home from the construction site still covered in dust, drop his bag by the door, and immediately seek Euijoo out. Big arms wrapping around him from behind while he was trying to finish dinner. Nose buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling slow and deep like Euijoo’s scent was the only thing keeping him sane.

If Euijoo had to work late at the office, Fuma would text him every couple of hours - short, almost curt messages that always ended with come home soon.

If they were apart for more than a few hours, Fuma got restless and would pace the apartment until Euijoo was back in reach again.

Euijoo didn’t mind. Not even a little. There was something addictive about being wanted that much and how Fuma’s whole body seemed to relax the moment his hands found Euijoo’s skin. 

“It’s a wolf thing,” Fuma had mumbled once when Euijoo finally asked. “Full moon makes everything amplified. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. Smell you. Touch you. If I don’t, it feels like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin.”

So Euijoo let it happen. He encouraged it, even by wearing Fuma’s oversized hoodies around the apartment, leaving his worn shirts on the pillow when he left for the office, and pulling Fuma down for lazy make-out sessions on the couch just to watch that feral tension ease into something softer.

So obviously it made sense for the two of them to move in together. No more late-night drives across town when Fuma got too restless. No more pretending he didn’t hate being alone in his apartment. Now Euijoo could just relax in Fuma’s presence, letting the big tough werewolf drape himself over him like a living blanket every evening, content and warm and wanted beyond reason.

Euijoo understood the logic. He really did.

But after months of Fuma’s pre-moon clinginess turning their apartment into a nest of constant touch and low growls, months of falling deeper in love with every hike, every rare steak dinner, every bruising, perfect night - it still frustrated him.

Fuma had never let him stay for a full moon.

Not once.

Every month, without fail, the conversation went the same way. As the moon swelled and Fuma’s eyes started glowing brighter, his touches grew almost desperate. He’d pull Euijoo close, kiss him until they were both breathless, then gently but firmly insist Euijoo spend the night at a friend’s place or even stay and Fuma leave to go elsewhere.

“It’s not safe,” Fuma would say. “When I shift… I don’t look like me anymore. Not even close. The wolf takes over completely. I know I’d never hurt you on purpose, but if I got too lost in it, I might not be able to stop. I won’t risk you like that.”

Euijoo hated it.

He’d seen every other part of Fuma. The exhausted construction worker covered in sawdust who still smelled like home. The soft, sleepy version who curled around him like a giant puppy. The feral, passionate lover who left bite marks and bruises and made Euijoo sob with pleasure.

Fuma had seen Euijoo at his most vulnerable - spread out and begging, sore and marked, completely bare in every sense.

But Euijoo wasn’t allowed to see him completely.

It felt unfair. One-sided. Like Fuma was still holding back the rawest, most honest version of himself while Euijoo had handed over everything. He wanted to be there for the shift. He wanted to watch those strong shoulders broaden further, fur ripple across familiar skin, watch the man he loved become something wild and powerful under moonlight. He wanted to prove he could handle it - that he wasn’t fragile, that he trusted Fuma’s control even when the wolf was fully in charge.

The frustration built quietly in his chest every time Fuma kissed him goodbye on those nights and drove off to some isolated spot in the woods alone. Euijoo would lie awake in whatever bed he’d been sent to, staring at the ceiling, body still aching pleasantly from Fuma’s pre-moon attention, wondering what it would feel like to have all of him.

He never pushed too hard. He saw the genuine fear in Fuma’s eyes, the way his hands trembled just slightly when he talked about losing control. But deep down, Euijoo hoped one day Fuma would trust him enough to let him stay.

Because Euijoo wasn’t scared of the wolf.

He was in love with him. 

But for now, he was more than happy to ride the wave of Fuma’s pre-moon hunger.

Any kind of sex with Fuma was incredible - the slow, passionate kind where they barely moved, just rocked together while Fuma whispered praises against his skin; the lazy morning sex where they were half-asleep and smiling into lazy kisses; and especially the rough, violent kind that left Euijoo limping beautifully the next day. The closer they got to the full moon, the more Fuma’s control frayed, and the more Euijoo’s body got absolutely put through the ringer. 

Tonight was no exception.

They were driving home from their latest hike, the waning gibbous moon hanging fat and silver in the dark sky. It wasn’t full yet, but it was close enough that Fuma had been buzzing with energy all day and even now, behind the wheel, that energy hadn’t faded. 

One big, calloused hand rested high on Euijoo’s thigh, thumb stroking slow, possessive circles that kept inching higher with every passing kilometer. The other hand stayed loose on the steering wheel, but Fuma’s voice was animated as he recounted the hike.

“The view of that ridge at the end was insane. And did you smell those pines when the wind shifted? God, I could’ve stayed up there for hours.” His fingers flexed on Euijoo’s thigh, digging in just enough to make heat bloom low in Euijoo’s stomach. “You looked good out there today. All flushed and breathing hard… made me want to push you up against a tree and - ”

Fuma cut himself off with a low laugh. The hand on his thigh squeezed harder, sliding up until fingertips brushed the seam of Euijoo’s shorts.

“You were basically looking at me like I was dinner.” Euijoo teased, voice a little breathy as he reached a hand over Fuma's lap, palm pressing firmly over the obvious, thick bulge straining against his pants. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. You’ve been this hard the whole drive?”

His fingers worked open Fuma’s zipper with practiced ease, freeing the heavy length of his cock. It sprang up, flushed dark and already leaking at the tip, the sheer size of it still making Euijoo’s mouth water every single time.

He leaned over the center console, seatbelt digging into his hip as he ignored the slight awkwardness of the position. Warm breath ghosted over the sensitive head before he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss right against the glistening tip, lips soft and lingering. He let his tongue flick out just enough to taste the salty bead of pre-cum, humming like he was savouring something sweet as his hand wrapped loosely around the base, giving one slow, torturous stroke.

Fuma let out a wrecked groan, hips jerking up into Euijoo’s fist. The truck swerved a fraction before he corrected it, breathing hard through his nose.

“Euijoo - ” The warning in his voice was rough and fraying at the edges. “If you put your mouth on me right now, I’m not gonna last until we get home.”

Euijoo smiled against the hot skin, pressing another open-mouthed kiss just below the head, then dragging his tongue slowly up the underside.

“That’s kind of the point,” he whispered, lips brushing the throbbing length. 

He sank down further, taking Fuma’s thick cock deeper into his mouth in one smooth glide. The salty, musky taste of him exploded on his tongue - hike sweat, pre-cum, and that warm, earthy scent that was pure Fuma. Euijoo moaned around the heavy length, the vibration pulling a guttural growl from the werewolf’s chest.

“Fuck Juju," Fuma’s voice cracked, one hand flying down to tangle in Euijoo’s hair while the other stayed white-knuckled on the wheel. 

Euijoo bobbed his head slowly at first, lips stretched wide around Fuma’s girth. Every time he sank down, he tried to take him a little deeper, relaxing his throat until the head nudged against it and he had to swallow around the intrusion.

Fuma was leaking constantly now, thick drops of pre-cum coating Euijoo’s tongue. The hand in his hair tightened, not quite pushing but definitely guiding, hips twitching up in tiny, helpless thrusts that made the truck’s speed waver again.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good… shit, just like that - ”

Euijoo hollowed his cheeks, working his tongue over the sensitive head on every upstroke before sliding back down until his nose brushed against the coarse hair at Fuma’s pelvis. 

Suddenly, the wolf grabs a handful of Euijoo’s hair and yanks him off his cock as he suddenly yanks the steering wheel, pulling the truck off the main road onto a narrow, unpaved side path lined with thick trees. The headlights cut through the darkness for a few seconds before he killed them, plunging everything into moonlight and shadow. The engine ticked as it cooled.

“Backseat. Now,” Fuma snapped.

Euijoo’s stomach flipped with excitement as he unbuckled and climbed over the console, half-crawling into the backseat with a breathless laugh. The second Fuma dropped into the seat beside him, Euijoo surged forward, cupping his face and kissing him hard. It was messy, teeth clashing, tongues sliding, full of all the pent-up hunger from the hike and the road head. 

They didn’t bother with shirts. Fuma’s hands were already shoving Euijoo’s shorts and underwear down in one rough tug, freeing his aching cock. 

“Hands and knees,” the older man ordered. “Now, baby.”

Euijoo obeyed instantly, heart hammering as he turned and braced himself on the backseat, knees sinking into the cushion, ass up. The position felt filthy in the cramped space, the truck windows already fogging. He glanced back over his shoulder, biting his lip at the sight of Fuma behind him - shirt rucked up, cock hard again and glistening, muscles tense like he was barely holding his wolf back. 

Fuma leaned down, big hands spreading Euijoo’s cheeks apart, and buried his face between them. His tongue dragged hot and wet over Euijoo’s hole in one long, filthy stripe, then immediately pushed inside, licking deep like he was starving for it.

“Fuck, Fuma!” Euijoo gasped. 

The werewolf ate him out like a man possessed, tongue fucking in and out while low, rumbling growls vibrated straight into Euijoo’s body. Fuma’s spit dripped down his balls, and the obscene, slick sounds filled the cramped backseat.

Then he pushed two thick fingers in, scissoring and curling them mercilessly. A third finger joined quickly, then a fourth. Euijoo was shaking, moaning brokenly into the seat cushion, cock leaking steadily onto the leather below him. 

When Fuma finally pulled back, Euijoo’s hole was shiny and fluttering, thoroughly soaked and relaxed. Fuma gave one last slow lick for good measure, then rose up on his knees, gripping his own thick cock and lining up.

“Good boy,” 

He shoved in with one brutal thrust, so deep, Euijoo screamed into the seat. The sudden fullness punched the air out of his lungs, that perfect mix of sting and pleasure lighting up every nerve. Fuma started fucking him hard and fast, hips snapping forward with wet, filthy slaps, one hand braced on the seatback and the other digging bruises into Euijoo’s hip.

Every thrust was brutal and deep, hips slamming forward with enough force that the truck creaked and Euijoo’s knees slid on the seat. 

One palm slid up Euijoo’s spine, claws pricking lightly before flattening to press him down harder into the seat. The other hand dug into his hip, yanking him back onto every thrust, fingers bruising deep into soft skin. Fuma leaned over Euijoo’s back and started licking and kissing wherever his mouth could land.

Fuma dragged his tongue up the side of his neck, tasting salt and skin, then bit down hard enough to make Euijoo cry out. The sting flared bright and perfect, melting into heat as Fuma sucked on the fresh mark.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Fuma moaned against his skin.

Euijoo was shaking, moaning helplessly into the seat, body jolting forward with every savage snap of Fuma’s hips. Fuma’s free hand roamed again - gripping his thigh, squeezing the flesh of his ass, sliding up to pinch and roll a nipple until Euijoo whimpered. Every touch was possessive and greedy, like Fuma needed to claim every single part of him at once.

The truck cab had turned into a sauna with the windows completely fogged, air thick and heavy with the smell of sex and sweat. Their bodies were slick, skin sliding hot and wet against leather with every thrust. Euijoo kept slipping forward no matter how hard he tried to brace himself, knees burning against the seat as Fuma railed him.

Fuma reached forward and grabbed Euijoo’s right arm, yanking it back, twisting it behind his back like a handle. The new leverage pulled Euijoo’s torso up off the seat, shoulders straining, chest arched. A sharp twinge shot through his shoulder joint from the awkward angle, but he only moaned louder, pushing back into every thrust.

Euijoo was right there teetering on the edge, cock throbbing, hole clenching tight. Every brutal yank on his twisted arm sent sparks shooting through him, pleasure and strain braided so tightly he could barely breathe.

Fuma snarled and hauled him back even harder, desperate to bury his cock fully as he felt Euijoo start to pulse.

A sickening pop cracked through the foggy truck cab.

White-hot pain exploded in Euijoo’s right shoulder. The groan that tore out of him was full of agony, tears burning his eyes as Fuma freezes. 

“Baby fuck, are you okay?” Fuma’s voice cracked with panic, all the feral edge gone in a heartbeat. His breath was hot and shaky against Euijoo’s neck. “I heard it - shit, did I - ? Is it your shoulder? Fuck, I’m so sorry - ”

Euijoo gasped through the throbbing pain, forehead pressed to the sweaty seat, body trembling. The pain was blinding - sharp, nauseating, radiating from his shoulder down his arm in hot waves. Tears spilled over before he could stop them, silent at first, then turning into shaky, hiccuping sobs against the sweat-damp seat.

“It… dislocated I think,” he managed, voice hoarse and tight. 

Fuma’s panic spiked.

“I’m pulling out. Just breathe for me, okay? I’ve got you.”

The moment he finally slipped out, Euijoo whimpered at the sudden emptiness and the fresh jolt of pain in his shoulder. Fuma immediately turned him over with the utmost care, supporting his back so he wasn’t lying on the injured joint.

The werewolf's hands trembled as he inspected the damage. Euijoo’s shoulder already looked wrong like it was slightly out of place, swelling starting to bloom under the skin and the wolf’s face crumpled.

One big hand cupped Euijoo’s tear-streaked face, thumb brushing them away with heartbreaking gentleness.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I got too rough. I wasn’t paying attention and I - shit.” Fuma’s breath hitched. 

Euijoo sniffled, still crying quietly despite the way his body was trying to calm down now that the immediate agony had dulled to a deep, throbbing ache. Fuma moved with agonizing care, like the younger might shatter if he breathed too hard.

Fuma gently helped Euijoo sit up, supporting his back the entire time, then eased his shorts and underwear back up his legs. Every small movement made Euijoo wince, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks despite how hard he tried to bite them back. 

“I’ve got you,” Fuma murmured, voice thick with guilt. He zipped and buttoned Euijoo’s shorts himself, then pulled his own pants on with quick, jerky motions. Once they were both decent, Fuma wrapped a supportive arm around Euijoo’s waist and helped him climb carefully back into the front passenger seat.

The drive to the hospital was dead silent.

Fuma gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. Every few seconds his gaze flicked sideways to Euijoo, who sat curled in on himself, good hand clutching his injured arm tight to his chest, trying to keep it as still as possible. The younger sniffled quietly, tears still leaking even though the worst of the sobs had passed. 

Every bump in the road - no matter how small - made Euijoo hiss in pain. And every single time, Fuma whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

Another pothole. “I’m sorry.”

A slight dip where the pavement changed. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Euijoo wanted to tell him to stop, that it was okay, that he didn’t blame him. But his throat felt too tight, and the pain made it hard to form words. He just kept his eyes half-closed, breathing shallow, leaning his head against the cool window while silent tears kept falling.

The hospital lights finally appeared in the distance, cold and bright against the night sky. Fuma’s shoulders were rigid with tension, the weight of his worst fear sitting heavy between them in the quiet cab.

The hospital was unsurprisingly quiet for a weeknight. They were ushered into an exam room almost immediately, the fluorescent lights harsh after the dark drive.

A kind-faced nurse helped Euijoo onto the table, careful with his arm. She gently prodded around the swollen joint, making him wince and hiss through gritted teeth. After a minute she stepped out and returned with the doctor, an older woman with a calm, professional demeanor. The doctor examined him more thoroughly, fingers pressing lightly but firmly. 

“Definitely dislocated,” she confirmed after a few careful manipulations that made Euijoo’s vision spark white. “We’ll get it back in place shortly.”

Her eyes flicked to Fuma, who was standing rigid at Euijoo’s side like a guilty shadow.

“We’d like you to step outside for a moment, please.”

Fuma’s eyes darting between Euijoo and the doctor. His hands flexed at his sides, jaw clenched tight. He clearly didn’t want to leave.

Euijoo reached out with his good hand and squeezed Fuma’s wrist. “It’s okay,” he said softly, voice still a little raw from crying. “I’ll be fine. Just wait right outside.”

Fuma hesitated another long second before nodding stiffly and stepping into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind him.

Once they were alone, the doctor’s tone gentled but stayed direct. “Can you tell us exactly what happened tonight?”

Euijoo blinked, a little thrown by the careful way she was watching him. “We were… having sex in his the truck. Things got really rough - pre-full moon stuff, you know how werewolves get - and he had my arm pulled back for leverage. There was a pop. That’s it. It was an accident.”

The doctor and nurse exchanged a quick glance.

“Euijoo,” the doctor said carefully, “you can tell us the truth. No judgment here. If someone hurt you - ”

“I am telling the truth,” Euijoo interrupted, cheeks burning despite the pain. “It was consensual. Really rough, yeah, but I wanted it. Fuma would never hurt me on purpose. He’s freaking out more than I am right now.”

The doctor studied him for a long moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied. “Alright. We believe you. Still, we have to ask.”

She reset the shoulder with a quick, practiced motion that made Euijoo shout once in pain before the relief flooded in. They fitted him with a sling, gave him painkillers, and went over the instructions.

“It needs to stay immobilized in the sling for at least two to three weeks. No lifting, no strenuous activity, and definitely no… vigorous sexual activity,” the doctor added with a small, knowing look. “Follow up with your regular doctor or an orthopedist in a few days to make sure everything’s healing correctly. Ice it, keep it elevated when you can, and take the pain meds as needed.”

Euijoo nodded along, committing every word to memory even through the lingering fog of pain. He signed the forms, got his discharge papers, and finally let the nurse help him off the table.

Euijoo was still adjusting the sling when the nurse pressed a small stack of pamphlets into his good hand. “Just some resources,” she said gently, her voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry. “In case you need them.”

He glanced down automatically.

Recognizing Domestic Abuse

When Your Partner is Supernatural: Safety Planning

Support for Victims of Werewolf & Other Shifter Violence

Hotlines & Safe Houses

Euijoo’s eyes widened. Heat flooded his face from pure embarrassment and a flicker of anger. He quickly folded the pamphlets and shoved them into his hoodie pocket, trying to make them disappear.

“I’m good,” he muttered. “Really.”

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look that only made it worse.

When he stepped back into the waiting area, Fuma was already on his feet, hovering near the door like he’d been counting every second. His shoulders sagged with relief the moment he saw Euijoo, but the guilt was still carved deep into his expression.

“They said it should stay in the sling for two to three weeks,” Euijoo explained quietly as they started walking toward the exit. “No heavy lifting, no… strenuous stuff. I have to follow up with my regular doctor soon to make sure it’s healing right. Ice, elevation, painkillers. Boring stuff.”

Fuma nodded, one arm carefully hovering behind Euijoo’s back without quite touching him. “Okay. I’ll take time off work. I’ll handle everything - cooking, cleaning, driving you wherever you need. Just tell me what you need and I’ll - ”

Mid-sentence, Fuma’s hand brushed Euijoo’s pocket and felt where the edge of one pamphlet had poked out. Before Euijoo could stop him, Fuma snatched it free.

The werewolf froze in the middle of the hospital corridor as his eyes scanned the titles. His face went deathly pale.

“Supernatural abuse…?” Fuma’s voice was barely a whisper. His hands started to shake around the papers. “Domestic violence support…?”

Euijoo reached for them. “Fuma, it’s nothing. The nurse just gave them to everyone. Standard procedure when someone comes in with an injury like this. They have to.”

But Fuma wasn’t listening. He kept staring at the pamphlets like they were evidence of a crime he’d committed. His breathing grew shallow, shoulders curling inward as if he wanted to make himself smaller. 

“Fuma,” Euijoo said softly, stepping closer despite the throb in his shoulder. “Look at me. It was an accident. I told them that and they believed me. These are just… hospital policy.”

The guilt between them felt heavier than the moon itself as they climbed back into the truck in silence, the pamphlets now back in Euijoo’s pocket and crumpled like unwanted evidence. Fuma moved like a ghost of himself - gentle hands helping Euijoo settle into the passenger seat, adjusting the seatbelt so it didn’t press against the sling, checking twice that nothing would jostle his shoulder.

The second the doors closed and the engine rumbled to life, Euijoo started talking.

“Fuma, stop. I can see you spiraling. It was an accident. Accidents happen, even to normal couples. People pull muscles during sex all the time. This is just… a more dramatic version of that. My shoulder will heal, it’s not even broken. I’m not seriously hurt, and I’m not mad at you. Not even a little.”

Fuma didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes on the road, jaw tight, one hand on the wheel while the other reached across the console to gently cradle Euijoo’s good hand. His grip was feather-light, thumb stroking slow, soothing circles over the human’s knuckles like he was afraid even that much contact could cause damage.

“I dislocated your shoulder while I was fucking you,” he said, barely audible. “How is that not me being dangerous?”

Euijoo squeezed his hand back as best he could. “And I was the one begging you to go harder. I loved every second until that pop. You stopped the second it happened. You took care of me, drove me to the hospital, and held my hand the whole time. That’s not what someone dangerous would do, Fuma.”

Fuma’s pout only deepened. He didn’t argue out loud anymore, but it was clear the guilt still sat heavy on his shoulders.

The rest of the drive home was quiet except for the low hum of the radio and the occasional sniffle from Euijoo when the pain meds started to wear off a little. Fuma never let go of his hand like he could somehow absorb the discomfort through their joined palms.

By the time they made it back to the apartment, Euijoo had settled into this strange mix of embarrassment, tenderness, and exhausted amusement.

Fuma wouldn’t let him lift so much as a grocery receipt. He hovered behind him like a guilty shadow, one hand always ready to steady him even though Euijoo wasn’t in any danger of falling over.

The moment they stepped inside, Fuma guided him gently toward the couch, easing him down onto the cushions as if Euijoo were recovering from open-heart surgery rather than a small, unfortunate fracture.

Euijoo watched him with a warm ache in his chest. The wolf’s shoulders were tight, his expression drawn, every movement overly cautious. He kept glancing at Euijoo’s brace like it was a visible reminder of his own failure. And yet despite the fear and guilt weighing on him, Fuma was still Fuma. Still sweet. Still attentive. Still trying so hard to make everything better that Euijoo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

When Fuma knelt in front of him, resting his hands lightly on Euijoo’s knees, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Does it hurt?” 

“Only a little,” Euijoo said, and even though it was true, he knew the reassurance didn’t land the way he hoped. 

Fuma’s face tightened all the same, like the words made something twist inside him. Euijoo reached out with his good hand and cupped his cheek, stroking his thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone until Fuma’s eyes finally lifted to meet his.

“I’ll only get better,” Euijoo said softly, letting a playful lilt enter his voice, “with the healing power of kisses.”

Fuma blinked at him, caught between confusion and disbelief. “What?”

“Kisses,” Euijoo repeated with absolute gravity, tapping his own lips. “I require them for medical reasons.”

“Euijoo…” Fuma dragged a hand down his face, the closest he’d come to smiling since before the hospital, though it was faint and pained. “You’re really - ”

“Cmon, get to work,” Euijoo said before he could finish. “Doctor’s orders.”

Fuma leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Euijoo’s fingertips, then another, tracing up his good arm with tender, apologetic movements. He avoided the brace with a sort of reverence that made Euijoo’s chest tighten. Then Fuma kissed the curve of his shoulder, the edge of his jaw, and finally hovered just in front of Euijoo’s mouth, their breaths brushing together.

“Is this helping?” Fuma whispered, eyes flicking between Euijoo’s lips and eyes.

“I think I need a proper dose.”

Fuma kissed him then and Euijoo melted into it, his hand sliding from the wolf’s cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him a little closer. The kiss grew deeper, not rough, just settling. Fuma held the side of Euijoo’s face like he was afraid the moment would vanish if he touched any harder. When they finally parted, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.

“Mmm,” Euijoo whispered against his lips. “Definitely healing.”

Fuma let out a soft, shaky breath, the smallest smile tugging at his mouth. “Good,” he murmured. “I’ll keep doing it until you’re completely better.”

He meant it - Euijoo could hear it in his voice, feel it in the gentle pressure of his hands, see it in the way Fuma looked at him like he was something precious. For the first time all night, Euijoo felt the knot of worry in his own stomach ease a little. They weren’t fixed. They weren’t past this. But they were getting there.

Over the next few weeks, Fuma turned into the world’s most devoted, guilt-ridden caretaker.

At first, it was genuinely sweet. Euijoo would wake up to the smell of breakfast already made - perfectly cooked eggs and thick slices of steak, coffee with exactly the right amount of oat milk waiting on the nightstand. Fuma even did all the cleaning, all the laundry, even carried Euijoo’s laptop from the bedroom to the living room. He refused to let Euijoo lift anything heavier than a spoon. 

Like seriously, Fuma hovered like Euijoo had shattered into porcelain fragments and any breeze over 0.5 km/h might scatter him across the apartment floor. He opened doors for him. He carried cups of water to him even if Euijoo was already standing three feet from the sink. He insisted on cooking every meal, reheating leftovers, fetching blankets, adjusting blankets, even tried to help him button his shirt until Euijoo gently swatted him away.

“Fuma, please,” Euijoo sighed, cradling his braced wrist as he attempted - for the fifth time - to pour cereal into a bowl. “I swear I still know how to feed myself.”

Fuma appeared behind him instantly, like he’d been lurking around the corner waiting for a cue.

“You shouldn’t be lifting anything,” he said, carefully sliding the cereal box out of Euijoo’s hands. “The doctor said minimal physical activity. You need rest.”

“That’s for my nonexistent gymnastics career,” Euijoo muttered as Fuma poured the cereal for him. “I’m not doing backflips. I’m trying to have breakfast.”

Fuma just gave Euijoo this wounded, solemn look that said I know you’re joking, but you could theoretically injure yourself doing that too.

“Baby,” he sighed, “I’m hurt, I’m not incapacitated.”

“You have a fracture,” Fuma reminded him for the fourteenth time that morning. “You shouldn’t be carrying things. Or bending too much. Or - ”

“Breathing too aggressively?” Euijoo offered dryly.

Fuma opened his mouth to argue, then paused, visibly considering the validity of aggressive breathing as a medical risk.

Euijoo groaned. “Oh my god. Please don’t answer that.”

Fuma closed his mouth but still looked deeply troubled. 

“I just don’t want you to make it worse,” he murmured, voice quiet and earnest, eyes flicking to the brace with that same guilt-stricken softness that hadn’t left him since the hospital.

And just like that - annoyance gave way to tenderness again.

Euijoo stepped closer, nudging Fuma’s hip with his own. “I know you don’t. Really. But I promise I can handle small things. I’m not going to trip over a spoon and break my arm again.”

Fuma’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t a spoon.”

“I know it wasn’t a spoon, babe,” Euijoo sighed. “It was your dick, my wrist, friction, physics, and horrible luck. But I am still capable of opening a cupboard. Let me at least pretend to be a functional adult.”

Fuma stared at him for a long moment, clearly torn between respecting Euijoo’s independence and following the doctor’s “minimal activity” line like it was scripture.

“Okay,” Fuma finally said.

Euijoo blinked. “Okay?”

Fuma nodded, though he still looked pained. “But only easy tasks. No strain. No lifting. No reaching. No sudden movements. I just want you to heal.”

“I will heal,” Euijoo said gently. “I’m already healing. And you’re helping a lot. Just… not everything needs your supervision.”

“I know. I’m trying.”

“I know. And for the record, it’s cute. Infuriating, but cute.”

Euijoo leaned in and kissed him softly.

“Now,” he whispered, “if you really love me, you’ll let me carry my cereal to the couch like the capable grown man I am.”

And when Fuma had to leave on the night of the full moon, it was like it was physically painful for him to leave Euijoo’s side. 

Fuma had been pacing all day, shoulders tense, jaw clenched. His eyes kept flashing amber every few seconds like his wolf was close to the surface and desperate to shift. But every time he looked at Euijoo sitting on the edge of the bed with his arm still in the sling, Fuma’s expression crumpled with guilt and fear.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Fuma said for the third time. "Not like this."

Euijoo sighed softly and reached out with his good hand, grabbing Fuma’s wrist to stop his pacing.

“Baby, it’s only a few hours,” he said gently. “You’ve done this every month. I’ll be fine. I’ll stay in bed, watch some shows, maybe order food. I’m not going to do cartwheels while you’re gone.”

Fuma dropped to his knees in front of Euijoo, big hands resting carefully on his thighs. His thumbs stroked soothing circles, but his grip was tight, almost desperate.

“What if something happens?” Fuma whispered. “What if you need me and I’m out in the woods losing my mind? What if -"

Euijoo leaned forward and cupped Fuma’s face with his good hand, thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Fuma’s glowing eyes met his, full of conflict.

“I’m okay,” Euijoo said firmly. “My shoulder is healing. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll text you updates if you want. But you need to shift. You’ve been holding it in for days and it’s making you miserable. I can feel how restless you are.”

Fuma pressed his forehead against Euijoo’s knee, breathing shakily.

“I'll be here. Safe. In our bed. Probably asleep and drooling on your pillow.” The human continued with earned him a tiny, reluctant huff of laughter from Fuma.

The wolf lifted his head, eyes still watery with worry, but softer now.

“You’ll text me?” he asked, almost childlike.

“Every hour if you want,” Euijoo promised, smiling. 

Fuma pressed one last lingering kiss to his forehead, then stood. He lingered in the doorway for a few more seconds, fists clenched like he was physically fighting the urge to stay, before he finally turned and left.

The apartment door clicked shut behind him.

Euijoo let out a long breath and flopped back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling with his good hand resting over his still-sore shoulder.

After two weeks off, Euijoo insisted on going back to the office for light duties. Fuma had been visibly stressed about it all morning - hovering, triple-checking the sling, asking if he was sure at least ten times. He even offered to call in sick from his job so he could drive Euijoo and pick him up every day. Euijoo had to gently but firmly shut that down.

Honestly, it felt good to be out of the apartment again, sitting at his desk answering emails with one hand, chatting with coworkers, and feeling a little more like himself. The sling was annoying, sure, but he wasn’t helpless.

But as the weeks stretched, Fuma’s overbearing guilt started to grate.

He still wouldn’t let Euijoo do anything. If Euijoo reached for a glass, Fuma was suddenly there, taking it from his hand with a soft “I’ve got it.” When Euijoo tried to fold laundry one-handed on the couch, Fuma gently took the basket away like he was handling a live grenade. Even small things - loading the dishwasher, picking up his own mail, reaching for the TV remote - earned the same worried frown and intervention.

One evening Euijoo came home from work (he’d taken the train, which earned him a long lecture when Fuma found out) and found the apartment spotless, dinner already plated, and Fuma hovering by the door like a anxious shadow.

“You should’ve texted me when you left the office,” Fuma said, helping him out of his jacket with careful hands. “I could’ve picked you up. What if someone bumped your shoulder on the train?”

Euijoo sighed, trying to keep his tone patient. “Fuma, I’m fine. It’s been three weeks. The doctor said it’s healing well. I’m not going to break.”

Another thing Euijoo couldn’t stand, was the no-sex ban.

Fuma had declared it the night they got back from the hospital and hadn’t budged since. Three whole weeks of nothing. Not even a handjob. Every time Euijoo tried to initiate by kissing him deeper than “good morning,” sliding a hand down Fuma’s chest after dinner, pressing up against him in bed with clear intent - Fuma would gently but firmly stop him.

“Not yet.”

“You’re still healing.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

It made Euijoo feel weak. Like his body was something broken that needed protecting instead of something Fuma used to worship so hungrily. 

And tonight was the final straw.

Euijoo had waited until they were both in bed. The sling was off for the night (doctor’s orders to give the joint some gentle movement), and he felt good. He rolled over, ignoring the faint twinge, and straddled Fuma’s lap, leaning down to kiss him, rolling his hips in a clear invitation.

Fuma’s hands settled on his waist automatically before he sighed and gently eased Euijoo back.

“Joo… no.”

Euijoo sat back on his heels, frustration boiling over. “It’s been three weeks, Fuma. The doctor cleared me for light activity. My shoulder’s fine. I’m fine.”

Fuma wouldn’t even look at him. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed somewhere near the human’s collarbone. “I don’t want to risk anything again.”

Euijoo just leaned down again, capturing Fuma’s mouth in another deliberate kiss. This time Fuma let him. He kissed back - soft at first, then deeper, a low rumble vibrating in his chest like he couldn’t quite help it. 

Encouraged, Euijoo rolled his hips down in a smooth grind, pressing their growing erections together through thin sleep pants. He let out the exact moan he knew wrecked Fuma every time - breathy, needy, a little broken in the back of his throat.

For one glorious second the werewolf pulled Euijoo down tighter, grinding up to meet him with a rough groan.

But then with a sharp, shaky inhale, Fuma tore his mouth away and turned his head to the side, breathing hard like he’d just run ten miles.

“Euijoo…” The wolf sighed and Euijoo pouted, sliding off his lap before stomping away. 

Disappointment sat heavy in his stomach like a stone. He loved this man more than he’d ever loved anyone. Loved the strength, the quiet humour, the way Fuma looked at him like he was the center of the universe. But this version - the guilt-ridden, overly cautious caretaker - was slowly suffocating them both.

He needed advice. Real advice from someone who actually understood what it was like to be on the werewolf side of things.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake Fuma, Euijoo reached for his phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up his face in the darkness as he opened his messages and typed a quick text to Nicholas.

[Euijoo]

hey

you free tomorrow or this weekend? 

need to talk about something wolf-related

He hit send before he could overthink it, then set the phone face-down on his chest. Nicholas would understand. He was mated and he was a werewolf. If anyone could help Euijoo figure out how to crack through Fuma’s wall of guilt without making things worse, it was him.

He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would finally come, while his mind kept racing toward tomorrow and the conversation he desperately needed.

Euijoo showed up at Nicholas and Kei’s apartment the next afternoon, sling still snug around his shoulder and a takeout coffee in his good hand. Nicholas took one look at his face and pulled him inside without a word, steering him straight to the couch.

“Alright, spill,” Nicholas said, flopping down beside him. “You sounded weird in your text.”

Euijoo took a deep breath and laid it all out - the accident, the hospital pamphlets, Fuma’s crushing guilt, the weeks of overbearing caretaking, the strict no-sex rule, and last night’s careful, one-sided encounter that left him feeling more frustrated than satisfied.

When he finished, Nicholas stared at him for a beat… then rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.

“God, he’s such a dramatic bitch sometimes.”

Euijoo let out a surprised laugh despite himself. “Nichol - ”

“No, seriously.” Nicholas leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Humans are fragile, yeah. We all know that. But you’re tough. You’ve been putting up with Fuma’s pre-moon feral bullshit for months and begging for more every time. Fuma knows this. This sudden ‘I’m a monster who broke my precious boyfriend’ act is bullshit.”

Euijoo rubbed his temple with his good hand. “He’s terrified. Every time I try to get him to touch me properly he shuts down. Says he doesn’t want to hurt me again.”

Nicholas tsked, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. Werewolves don’t deal with lasting injuries like this. We heal stupidly fast - broken bones in days, deep gashes in hours. Fuma’s probably never had to watch someone he loves stay hurt for weeks. It’s messing with his head. The wolf part of him sees you still injured and screams danger, even if his human brain knows it was just a dumb sex accident.”

He reached over and gently flicked Euijoo’s forehead.

“You need to make him understand that you’re not made of glass. That you can handle him - all of him - and that treating you like you’ll break is actually hurting you more than the dislocated shoulder ever did.”

Euijoo exhaled slowly, some of the tension in his chest loosening. Hearing it from someone who got the supernatural side of things helped more than he expected.

“So what do I do?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to push him and make the guilt worse, but I also can’t keep living like this. I miss my boyfriend.”

Nicholas grinned, sharp and a little wicked.

“Okay, so you need a plan. A big plan. A tempt-the-wolf, push-his-buttons, drive-him-crazy kind of plan.”

“Well yeah, that’s kinda why I’m here.” Euijoo rolled his eyes. 

“And here’s me saying I completely support your mission. You deserve dick. Big dick. Wolf dick. The kind of dick that rearranges your organs.” 

“Nicholas - ”

“I wanna see you limping at brunch.”

“NICHOLAS.”

“What?” he said innocently. “Is that not the goal?”

The human just sighed as Nicholas suddenly clapped his hands together like they were about to rob a bank.

“Okay. Operation Break Fuma’s Stupid Celibacy Ban is officially in session,” he declared. “We’re not just teasing him. We’re going to make that wolf so sexually frustrated he forgets every single guilty thought in his head and fucks you within an inch of your life.”

Euijoo’s face heated instantly, but he leaned in anyway, equal parts nervous and thrilled. “What do you think would actually work?”

“We’ll start small and wholesome, and then work our way down into depravity.”

Euijoo nodded eagerly. “Good plan.”

“Phase One: visual torture. Walk around the apartment in nothing but one of his oversized shirts. Bend over a lot. ‘Accidentally’ drop things. Sit in his lap while he’s watching TV or eating dinner, grind on him a little then pull away all innocent like you didn’t just feel how hard he got. Do it over and over until he’s vibrating.”

“Two: scent. Werewolves are obsessed with it. Stop showering right after working out. Rub yourself all over his pillow. Jerk off in one of them and leave it for him to find. Drive his nose absolutely insane.”

Euijoo bit his lip, already imagining Fuma’s nostrils flaring the second he walked through the door. “That’s… evil. I love it.”

“Phase Three: ignore him. Just a little. Be a tiny bit cold. Short replies to his texts. Eat dinner on your own side of the couch. Sleep with your back turned. When he tries to touch you or pull you close, slip away like you’re busy or tired. Make him feel the distance.”

Euijoo chewed on his lip, thinking. “You really think that’ll work?”

“Absolutely. I know every day is fight between his brain and his wolf so if his wolf starts like feeling he’s being rejected by his mate, it should win over Fuma’s guilty part of his brain.”

“That sounds kind of mean.”

“It’s not mean. It’s strategic,” Nicholas waved away his friend's concerns. “He needs a push. You’ve been patient and understanding for weeks. Now it’s time to be a little evil.”

Euijoo was quiet for a second, then slowly nodded.

“Okay….”

“And now for the last phase: jealousy.”

“Jealously?”

“Yep, the good old’ green-eyed monster. If Fuma is still somehow holding back by next weekend, then Jaeyun’s party will be the perfect opportunity. It’ll be a mix of supernaturals so we’ll get you dressed up looking hot as hell and then you flirt a little. Harmlessly. Laugh a little too much at someone’s jokes and touch their arm, let them get you a drink. Easy enough, right?”

“Yeah I guess so,”

“Perfect! And if the idiot still won’t break, text me. I’ll have a contingency plan ready to go.”

“What’s the contingency plan?” Euijoo narrowed his eyes.

“It’s better you remain oblivious,” Nicholas patted the younger’s knee. 

For the next few days, Euijoo committed fully to the first phase. He started wearing Fuma’s oversized shirts around the apartment - the ones that still carried the faint scent of the wolf’s natural warm musk. They hung loose on his frame, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs, but Euijoo made sure nothing was underneath.

The first morning he walked into the kitchen like that, Fuma nearly dropped his coffee mug.

Euijoo could feel the werewolf’s hungry eyes on him instantly. He pretended not to notice, padding over to the cupboards on bare feet, stretching up onto his toes to grab the honey from the top shelf. The shirt rode up dangerously high, revealing the soft, smooth curve of his bare ass and the shadowed hint of what lay between his thighs.

At night it was even worse.

Euijoo wore the same oversized shirt to bed. He’d crawl under the covers and press himself back against Fuma’s chest, wiggling just enough that the hem rode up and his bare ass brushed against the front of Fuma’s sweatpants. He could feel how hard Fuma was every single time but the older would only wrap one careful arm around Euijoo’s waist, holding him still with what felt like superhuman restraint.

“Joo…” Fuma would rasp in warning, voice tight, nose buried in Euijoo’s hair as he fought the instinct to roll on top of him.

Euijoo would just hum softly, pretending to be sleepy, while inside he was burning with desperation.

And when he wasn’t wearing Fuma’s oversized shirts, he switched to the shortest shorts he owned - tiny black athletic ones that barely covered the bottom curve of his ass. He paired them with absolutely nothing on top, walking around the apartment completely shirtless.

His skin was lightly tanned, smooth and glowing under the apartment lights. The lean lines of his body were on full display: the subtle definition of his collarbones, the flat plane of his stomach, and the faint, thin strip of hair that disappeared teasingly into the low waistband.

Euijoo waited until Fuma was sitting on the couch after a long day at work. He wandered over innocently and “tripped” lightly over nothing, dropping right into Fuma’s lap with a soft gasp.

“Oh sorry,” Euijoo murmured, shifting his hips and grinding his ass against the wolf’s crotch.

Fuma’s entire body went rigid and a low, strained growl rumbled in his chest as his cock thickened instantly beneath Euijoo.

“Euijoo…” Fuma warned.

Euijoo blinked up at him with big, innocent eyes. “What? I lost my balance.” He wiggled again before slowly dragging himself off his boyfriend’s lap and flopping down onto the couch beside him, stretching his long legs over Fuma’s lap too. 

Then after a long, hot shower, Euijoo stepped out of the bathroom with only a white towel wrapped low around his hips. He could feel the cool air kissing his damp skin as he walked down the hallway.

“Fuma?” he called out, voice sweet and innocent. “Can you come here for a second? I need your help.”

He heard movement from the living room, then Fuma’s footsteps approaching. When the werewolf appeared in the bedroom doorway, he stopped dead.

Euijoo glanced at him over his shoulder, letting the towel drop and pool on the floor. His skin was still warm and slightly flushed from the shower, water droplets tracing slow paths down his chest, stomach, and the curve of his ass.

He then crawled onto the bed on all fours. He made sure his movements were slow and deliberate with his back arched, ass up, thighs slightly spread, before he finally stretched out on his stomach, completely bare.

“My shoulder’s been hurting so much today,” Euijoo murmured, voice muffled against the pillow. He shifted his hips slightly, the movement making his ass curve invitingly. “Can you massage it for me? Please? It always feels better when you do it.”

Fuma stood frozen in the doorway, eyes locked onto Euijoo’s naked body like he’d been struck. His gaze dragged slowly from the back of Euijoo’s neck, down the long line of his spine, over the perfect swell of his ass, and down his spread thighs. 

“Euijoo…” 

His boyfriend glanced back over his shoulder with big, pleading eyes.

“Please? I’m so sore.”

Fuma took one shaky step forward, then another. He climbed onto the bed carefully, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Euijoo’s thighs. His hands hovered over Euijoo’s back, trembling.

“Tell me if anything hurts…”

His large, warm hands finally settled on Euijoo’s shoulders gently at first, thumbs pressing carefully into the muscle around the healed joint. But as he worked the knots, his grip grew firmer, more possessive. His thumbs dragged down Euijoo’s spine, spreading out over his back, dipping into the dimples on either side of his tailbone. 

Euijoo let out a soft, genuine moan at the first deep knead, the sound slipping from his lips before he could stop it.

“Fuck… that feels good,” he breathed, eyes fluttering shut.

Fuma made a low, strained noise in response but didn’t speak. His hands moved lower, thumbs dragging down either side of Euijoo’s spine, pressing into the tight muscles of his back. 

Euijoo moaned again, louder this time, as Fuma worked a particularly tight knot near his lower back. He couldn’t help himself. He shifted his hips back, subtly pressing his ass against the front of Fuma’s shorts.

There it was - hot, heavy, and rock-hard.

Euijoo’s breath hitched at the contact, and he pushed his hips again, grinding back against that thick hardness with a needy little whimper.

Fuma’s hands stilled.

“Euijoo,” he warned, voice rough and low, almost a growl.

“Sorry,” Euijoo murmured, not sounding sorry at all. He shifted again, deliberately rubbing his bare ass against Fuma’s clothed cock. “Just trying to get comfortable…”

Fuma’s fingers dug harder into his hips, claws pricking skin for a split second before he forced them back. His breathing was ragged now, chest rising and falling sharply as he tried to focus on the massage. But every time he leaned forward to work the human's shoulders, his bulge pressed firmly between the other's cheeks.

Euijoo moaned shamelessly through it all as Fuma's hands slid lower, thumbs digging into the meat of Euijoo’s ass as he kneaded the firm flesh. For a moment he tried to keep it professional but then Euijoo pushed back again, spreading his legs a little wider in invitation.

Fuma couldn't resist sliding his thumbs inward, spreading his boyfriend's cheeks open with a low groan. The cool air hit his exposed hole, making him shiver. Fuma’s thumbs pressed into the soft, sensitive skin on either side, kneading and spreading him wider, watching intently as Euijoo’s tight little hole fluttered under his gaze.

“Fuck…” Fuma breathed. 

Euijoo moaned shamelessly into the pillow, pushing back harder. He could feel how his hole kept clenching with every teasing touch. The thick outline of Fuma’s cock was burning hot against him through the shorts, and Euijoo kept grinding back against it shamelessly, trying to tempt the older into giving him more.

With a groan that sounded more animal than human, Fuma leaned down and buried his face between his cheeks without warning.

The first hot, wet drag of Fuma’s tongue across his hole pulled a startled moan out of Euijoo. Fuma licked a long, filthy stripe from his perineum all the way up, circling the tight rim before pressing the flat of his tongue firmly against it.

“H-Hyung!” Euijoo gasped, fingers twisting into the sheets.

Fuma groaned deeply, the sound vibrating straight into Euijoo’s body as he dove in properly. He ate him out with shameless hunger - his tongue pushing inside and fucking into Euijoo like he was starving for the taste of him.

Euijoo’s moans grew louder, more desperate as he pushed back against Fuma’s face, grinding his ass onto the werewolf’s tongue as pleasure shot up his spine. The wet, obscene sounds of Fuma sucking and licking filled the bedroom.

Fuma kept one hand spreading Euijoo open while the other slid underneath him, wrapping around his cock and stroking him. The dual sensation of Fuma’s hot tongue fucking into his ass and his big hand jerking him off had Euijoo sobbing into the pillow.

The older pulled back with a wet gasp, lips shiny and breathing ragged. His hands slid up Euijoo’s hips, gentle but firm, as he carefully turned him over onto his back.

Euijoo let out a soft, surprised sound as he was flipped, legs falling open naturally on either side of Fuma’s body. His cock was hard and flushed, curving up against his stomach and leaking steadily. Fuma’s gaze dropped to it immediately.

Without a word, Fuma leaned down and took Euijoo’s cock in one smooth, wet glide until his nose brushed against Euijoo’s pelvis. 

“Fuma!” Euijoo cried out, back arching off the bed.

One of Fuma’s hands rested on Euijoo’s hip, holding him down gently, while the other slid between his legs to tease his still-slick hole with two thick fingers.

Euijoo’s hands flew to Fuma’s hair, fingers threading through the dark strands as broken moans spilled from his lips. Every time Fuma took him to the back of his throat, Euijoo’s toes curled and his hips twitched helplessly, torn between pushing up into Fuma’s perfect mouth and pushing back onto his fingers.

It was too much.

Euijoo had been horny and desperate for weeks, and Fuma’s mouth was impossibly hot, wet, and perfect. His thighs started shaking uncontrollably within minutes.

“I’m - I’m gonna -” Euijoo gasped, fingers tightening desperately in Fuma’s hair. “Fuma - I can’t -”

His entire body seized up as pleasure slammed into him like a freight train. His cock pulsed hard in Fuma’s throat, spilling straight down the werewolf’s throat. 

Only when he was sure Euijoo's orgasm had subsided then did Fuma slowly lift his head, lips shiny and swollen, a thin string of saliva and cum connecting them for a moment before it broke. 

Euijoo was panting hard, chest heaving, body still twitching with aftershocks. His voice came out hoarse and dazed.

“…Holy shit.”

Fuma crawled up Euijoo’s body and kissed him deeply, letting him taste himself on his tongue. Euijoo was still panting, dazed and glowing from the intense orgasm, but the second their lips parted he reached down between them with greedy hands, desperate to touch Fuma, to return even a fraction of the pleasure he’d just received.

But the older caught his wrist gently but firmly, stopping him before he could wrap his fingers around his cock.

“No, baby,” Fuma murmured. He brought Euijoo’s hand up and pressed a kiss to his palm instead.

Euijoo pouted instantly, eyes wide and pleading. “But I want to...”

“I know,” Fuma said softly, shaking his head. He leaned down and kissed Euijoo again, silencing the protest. “I was more than satisfied doing that for you. I don’t need anything else right now.”

Euijoo’s pout deepened, a frustrated little whine escaping him. “Let me take care of you too.”

Fuma smiled, small and a little sad, but full of affection. He rolled onto his side and pulled Euijoo against his chest, wrapping strong arms around him and tucking Euijoo’s head under his chin.

“Not tonight,” he whispered into his hair. “Just let me hold you.”

Euijoo grumbled softly but eventually melted into the embrace, pressing his face into Fuma’s warm chest. Fuma’s hand stroked slow, soothing lines up and down his bare back, occasionally brushing over the curve of his ass in a gentle, non-sexual touch. 

Euijoo let out a quiet, defeated sigh and nuzzled closer, one leg hooked over Fuma’s hip.

The drought continued.

By the end of the second week, Euijoo upped the game.

He came home from work, changed into workout clothes, and did a light but deliberate session in the living room - just enough to work up a proper sweat. When he finished, his skin was warm and glistening, his natural scent stronger than usual. Instead of going to take a shower, he walked straight into their bedroom and headed to Fuma’s side of the bed. 

The thought of what he was about to do next made him cringe a little but Nicholas obviously knew what he was talking about so Euijoo took a deep breath, crawled onto the sheets and rolled, pressing his sweaty skin against the sheets.

He rubbed his neck and wrists over the pillow, then buried his face into the fabric and inhaled deeply before grinding his cheek and jaw against it. He moved lower, dragging his chest and stomach across the mattress, then rolled onto his back and spread his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel.

Next Euijoo opened the closet and pulled out Fuma’s favorite work hoodie - the permanently stained gray one he wore on cooler mornings at the site. He rubbed it against the inside against his sweaty chest and underarms. He pressed the collar against his neck, then dragged the sleeves across his stomach and hips. For good measure, he even slipped his hand inside the hoodie and stroked himself lightly, leaving the faintest trace of precum on the inner lining.

He did the same with Fuma’s work shirts, his pants, even a pair of his thick work socks. By the time he was done, Fuma’s entire side of the closet carried a heavy layer of Euijoo’s stinky, post-workout scent.

When Fuma came home that evening, he stopped dead in the doorway. The apartment was thick with Euijoo’s scent and Fuma’s nostrils flared wide, chest expanding as he took a slow, deep inhale. His eyes flashed amber instantly.

His boyfriend was waiting on the couch, wearing nothing but one of the wolf’s oversized shirts again, legs tucked under him. He looked up with an innocent little smile.

“Welcome home.”

Fuma stood frozen for a long moment, fists clenched at his sides. His jaw worked as he visibly fought the wolf before mumbling something about taking a probably very cold shower. Euijoo just grinned after him. 

A couple nights later, Fuma went out with a few of his friends for a rare night of catching up. He’d kissed Euijoo goodbye at the door and promised he wouldn’t stay out late. 

That was hours ago.

Now Euijoo lay alone in their bed, wearing nothing. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fan. This plan was way harder than Euijoo ever realized. He thought Fuma would’ve broken right away. Was he a monk in his past life or something?

Like seriously was it such a crime that he had needs? That he had cravings?

He had a boyfriend with a dick the size of his forearm and a libido that could level cities during a full moon - and yet here Euijoo was, braced wrist throbbing faintly, lying in bed alone like some Victorian widow waiting for her husband’s ship to return from sea.

His frustration simmered in his stomach, tightening and twisting until he felt restless.

Euijoo rolled onto his stomach with a huff and grabbed Fuma’s pillow and dragged it against his chest, burying his face deep into the soft fabric. The warm, earthy pine hit his senses immediately and it wrapped around him. 

He inhaled deeper, his body responding automatically, heat crawling between his legs as Fuma’s scent soaked into him. He could picture Fuma’s body so clearly - broad shoulders, strong arms, that intense look he wore when he was aroused, equal parts hunger and devotion. He could hear the growl in his voice, feel the weight of his body pinning him down, remember the exact pressure of his teeth on Euijoo’s skin.

He wanted that. He wanted him.

“This is torture,” he whispered. “I am actually being tortured.”

The frustration coiled tighter the longer he lay still. His hips shifted without permission, rolling forward in a slow, needy grind against the mattress. The friction wasn’t perfect - nothing compared to Fuma’s hands or his mouth - but it was enough to make him gasp quietly. Enough to make him chase it.

He rocked again, slower this time, letting the pressure drag along the underside of his cock. He imagined large, warm palms gripping his hips and strong, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh of his ass. That low rumbling growl vibrating against his back.

Euijoo buried his face deeper into Fuma’s pillow, inhaling greedily as he humped the bed like a needy puppy.

“Fuck,” he breathed, lifting his hips just long enough to slide his good hand down between his legs. 

His wrist twinged when he shifted too much, so he moved carefully, steadying himself with his forearm before wrapping his fingers around his cock. The contact alone made him shudder. His hand wasn’t Fuma’s but it was enough. He stroked himself slowly at first, sliding his thumb over the slick bead gathering at the head. His hips rolled into his touch, needy.

He wondered what Fuma was doing out there with his friends. Were they shifted? Out running in the woods?

Euijoo wondered if Fuma would fuck differently in wolf form - hungrier, rougher, mindless with need.

He imagined Fuma in wolf form now, the older’s golden eyes fixed on him, sharp teeth flashing, claws pricking at his skin as he was rolled onto his stomach and mounted like he was something to claim.

Euijoo’s breath hitched, his fist tightening around his cock as the fantasy spiraled. He stroked faster, hips rocking down to meet his hand. 

His climax hit him hard, spilling over his fingers and stomach in hot, pulsing waves. His breath came out in broken whimpers as he stroked himself through it, milking every last twitch until he sagged back against the bed, exhausted.

For a moment, he lay there panting, cheek pressed into Fuma’s pillow, hand sticky, legs trembling faintly. Then the emptiness crept in again - that hollow ache where Fuma should be.

He wiped his hand on a corner of the blanket, groaning at how pathetic he felt.

The next phase began the following day. Euijoo didn’t greet Fuma warmly when he woke up, nor did he give the usual kiss. He just gave a small, sleepy hum before slipping out of bed. From then on, the distance was deliberate.

At home, Euijoo started eating dinner alone. Sometimes he’d make something small for himself and eat it at the counter while scrolling on his phone. Other nights he’d order takeout and eat it on the couch without offering any to Fuma. When Fuma tried to sit beside him, Euijoo would casually shift away or stand up to “get water.”

He still slept in their bed, but always with his back turned, curled up on the far side. No more pressing back against Fuma’s chest. No more sleepy goodnight kisses. No more soft “I missed you” when Fuma got home from work.

Clearly ignoring him was working because Fuma grew more restless. He started hovering more, eyes tracking Euijoo’s every movement with confusion. His hands would twitch like he wanted to reach out, only to pull back at the last second. The tension in his shoulders never eased.

[Fuma]

want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

[Euijoo]

already ate

[Fuma]

heading home now

[Euijoo]

ok

[Fuma]

miss you

[Euijoo]

*seen at 6:46pm*

The ignoring phase was slowly killing both of them.

Euijoo hated it. He hated the way Fuma’s shoulders would slump a little more every time he gave a short, one-word reply. He hated the quiet, wounded look in those brown eyes that followed him around the apartment like a kicked puppy.

Most of all, he hated how much it hurt him - the tight ache in his chest every time he forced himself to pull away.

But he kept going.

Their usual Thursday night routine had always been sacred: takeout, blankets, and their favorite drama on the TV. They’d cuddle on the couch, Euijoo tucked against Fuma’s side, Fuma’s big arm around him while they argued about plot twists and fed each other bites of food.

Not anymore.

This Thursday, Euijoo ordered takeout only for himself. He ate it at the kitchen counter while scrolling on his phone, back turned to the living room. When the opening theme of their show started playing, he didn’t move. Fuma lingered in the doorway for a long time, hopeful.

“You… coming?” he asked softly.

Euijoo didn’t even look up. “Not tonight. I’m tired.”

The silence that followed was painful. He could feel Fuma standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Eventually, Fuma padded over to the couch alone. The TV kept playing, but there was no laughter, no commentary, no warm body pressed against his side. Just the low volume and the occasional soft sigh from the living room.

Euijoo stayed at the counter long after he finished eating, staring at his phone screen without really seeing it. His chest felt tight. Every time he glanced toward the couch, he saw Fuma sitting there - knees drawn up slightly, shoulders rounded, staring at the TV with those big, sad puppy eyes and the faintest pout tugging at his lips.

It looked wrong. Like a dark cloud was hanging over his head, growing heavier and darker with every cold shoulder Euijoo gave him. 

Euijoo’s throat tightened.

This is for his own good, he reminded himself. He needs to snap out of it.

But when Fuma eventually gave up on the show and went to bed early without saying goodnight, the guilt hit Euijoo like a truck. He sat alone at the counter for another twenty minutes, biting the inside of his cheek so hard it almost bled.

He hated this plan. He hated how effective it was. And he hated how much he missed his warm, clingy, slightly feral boyfriend.

So before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his phone and opened his chat with Nicholas.

[Euijoo]

i don’t know if I can keep doing this

he looks so sad

i feel like absolute shit

The reply came almost immediately.

[Nicholas]

hey deep breaths

stay strong okay you’re doing great

i know it sucks right now but trust me this is working!!

fuma’s been texting kei nonstop complaining that you’re “distant”

his wolf is losing its mind

Euijoo let out a shaky breath, thumbs flying across the screen.

[Euijoo]

he has literal puppy eyes

i feel like a monster

i miss him so much it hurts

[Nicholas]

i know

but you’re so close!!!!

i'm 99% sure he’s going to snap by the party this weekend

but im putting the contingency plan into place

when a package shows up on your doorstep just make sure you open it with fuma around

Euijoo stared at the screen, frowning.

[Euijoo]

what’s in it???

[Nicholas]

😈

you'll see

Euijoo groaned quietly and rubbed a hand over his face.

[Nicholas]

now stop feeling guilty and stay strong.

you’ve got this

fuma needs the push

he’ll thank you later (probably while he’s balls deep)

Euijoo let out a weak laugh despite himself, some of the tightness in his chest loosening.

[Euijoo]

thanks for the pep talk. really

i'll keep holding out 

[Nicholas]

that’s my boy

now go to bed before you cave

Euijoo locked his phone and stared at the dark ceiling for a long time, heart still aching but a little more determined.

Today was was the day to set forth the final phase.

Euijoo spent the last few days icing Fuma out in short replies, separate meals, sleeping with his back turned. The werewolf was clearly losing his mind, but still being stubborn so Euijoo knew he had to pull out the big guns for this last part of his plan. 

Now he stood in front of the mirror, heart hammering with a mix of nerves and determination.

He had gotten his sling taken off earlier that morning, the doctor gently manipulating his arm to check on its healing. The older woman rotated his arm carefully, pressing here and there, checking mobility and strength. After a few minutes of prodding and range-of-motion tests, she stepped back with a satisfied nod.

“Well, Euijoo, I have to say this has healed remarkably well,” she said, smiling. “The joint is stable, inflammation is gone, and your range of motion is excellent for the timeline. I’d say you’re officially cleared.”

Euijoo let out a relieved breath. “Really? No more sling?”

“No more sling,” she confirmed. “You’re good for normal daily activities and light physical exertion. Just don’t go chasing any personal bests at the gym quite yet, just ease back into things. Listen to your body. If it hurts, stop.”

Euijoo nodded, barely containing the grin threatening to break across his face.

This literally could not be better timing.

The sling had been a constant reminder of the injury and the reason Fuma had been holding back so hard. Now it was gone. His shoulder felt strong and his body felt ready.

So naturally Euijoo went for that perfect mix of casual and dangerously hot when choosing his outfit that evening - the kind of look that seems effortless but is clearly planned to drive Fuma insane.

He put on a fitted black short-sleeve t-shirt that’s slightly cropped, hitting just above the waistband so a good amount of toned stomach and V-line shows whenever he moves slightly. The shirt is tight enough to show off his chest and arms without being overly tight, the soft fabric clinging to his shoulders and pecs.

Paired with it are light-wash baggy jeans - the trendy, wide-leg style that sits low on his hips, held up by a thick black leather belt with a bold, eye-catching silver buckle (a chunky rectangular one with interlocking details). A thin silver chain necklace resting against his collarbones and he made sure to style his hair in that messy, fluffy curly/sexy bed-head way, a few strands falling into his eyes.

He grabbed his keys and wallet from the table near the door when he felt eyes on him. Fuma was sitting on the couch, remote forgotten in his hand, staring.

“Where are you going?”

Euijoo turned, casual as ever. “To the party, remember? Jaeyun’s thing tonight.”

Fuma’s gaze dragged slowly down his body - lingering on the exposed strip of skin at his waist, the way the jeans sat so low, the way the fitted black shirt hugged his chest. His jaw tightened.

“You’re wearing… that?”

Euijoo blinked innocently. “It’s a party, Fuma. People dress up.”

Fuma didn’t look convinced. He stared for another long second, nostrils flaring like he was catching every trace of Euijoo’s scent mixed with the faint oil on his skin. The silence stretched.

Then Fuma stood up.

“I’m coming too,” he blurted. “Just… give me ten minutes to shower.”

Euijoo rolled his eyes, even as a spark of triumph lit up in his chest. “You said you didn’t want to go.”

“I changed my mind.” Fuma was already walking toward the bathroom. “Wait for me.”

The bathroom door clicked shut and Euijoo leaned back against the wall, biting his lip to hide his grin. Fuma was finally cracking.

The walk to Jaeyun’s house was only a block, but Fuma stayed glued to Euijoo’s side the entire time, one big hand touching the small of his back. He didn’t say much, but his jaw was tight.

When they stepped inside the loud, warmly lit house, it only took seconds for their friends to descend.

Jaeyun immediately grabbed Euijoo by the arm with a loud whoop, dragging him toward the living room where the rest of their group was already posted up with drinks. Fuma got pulled in the opposite direction by some of his buddies who were hyped to see him actually show up to a party.

Euijoo barely had time to glance back before he was surrounded. Harua, Nicholas, and a handful of their other friends descended on him with bright smiles and warm greetings.

“Your sling is off!” Harua demanded, gently grabbing Euijoo’s wrist and inspecting the now sling-free shoulder. “Looks good! How does it feel?”

“Pretty much back to normal,” Euijoo said, smiling as he rolled his shoulder for them. “Doctor cleared me this week. No more sling, no heavy lifting for a bit, but I’m good.”

“Cheers to that,” Jaeyun grinned, shoving a cup of alcohol into his hand. Euijoo gratefully accepted the cup and took a sip of the cold beer. 

“You look great,” Nicholas whispered in his ear as he pressed close to his best friend’s side. “No wonder Fuma came to this party too.”

The two of them giggled and Euijoo glanced over his shoulder to where Fuma was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed against his chest and clearly staring at him. Euijoo just gave a flirty wave before letting Nicholas drag him further into the house. 

This night was going exactly according to plan and Euijoo was having a genuinely good time.

The music thumped through the house and he’d already downed two drinks when Nicholas slung his arm around his shoulder and dragged him to where a beer pong table was set up outside. String lights hung overhead, casting a warm glow over the group gathered around the folding table.

“Alright, teams!” Jaeyun called out. “Euijoo, you’re with San. Nicholas, you’re with Taehyun.”

Euijoo turned and found himself standing next to a werewolf he’d only met a couple of times before. San was noticeably shorter than him but built. His shoulders were wide and powerful, biceps straining against the sleeves of his tight shirt, chest and abs clearly defined even under the fabric. 

San flashed Euijoo a bright, friendly grin and offered a fist bump. “Hey, partner. Let’s destroy them.”

“Let’s do it,” Euijoo smiled back, bumping fists. 

Across the table, Nicholas was smirking like he’d planned this exact matchup, standing next to Taehyun - a tall, lean wolf with sharp features and an easy laugh.

The game started, and Euijoo quickly got into it. He was decent at beer pong even with one slightly cautious shoulder, and San turned out to be surprisingly good with his precise aim and a competitive streak that had them both laughing every time they sank a cup.

Every time Euijoo leaned forward to shoot, his crop top rode up higher, exposing more of his stomach and the low waistband of his jeans. Every time he celebrated a good shot, he’d throw an arm around San’s shoulders or San would playfully pat his back. 

They were mid-game when Euijoo lifted a cup to drink - only to sputter the moment the liquid hit his tongue.

“Yuck, what the hell this isn’t beer.”

San sniffed the cup, grimaced, and laughed loudly. “Oh yeah. Someone switched to hard liquor. That’s pure vodka.”

Euijoo coughed, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand, eyes watering. “I’m going to die.”

“It’s fine. I’ll drink for you.”

Euijoo blinked. “What? No - you’ll get wasted.”

San shrugged, already swapping cups with him without waiting for permission. “Werewolf metabolism. Stronger liver. Faster burn. Twice the volume without feeling it. It’s basically flavoured water.”

Euijoo laughed at that. “You’re my hero.”

San shot him a grin that was all teeth and good-natured swagger. “I can’t let my partner go down mid-game.”

Euijoo snorted as San raised the cup in a mock toast, winked, and downed it in one smooth gulp.

The two of them fell into more easy conversation between their turns at beer pong.

“You’re pretty good at this,” San said after Euijoo sank a clean shot. “Most humans get intimidated playing with wolves.”

Euijoo laughed, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’ve had a lot of practice. My boyfriend’s a wolf too, so I’m used to it.”

San’s face lit up with a bright, genuine grin. “No way? I’m mated to a human - Wooyoung. He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

“Really?” Euijoo perked up. “That’s cool. How long have you guys been together?”

“Almost three years,” San said proudly, rolling the ping pong ball between his fingers. 

Euijoo smiled warmly. “I’m dating someone named Fuma. Big guy. Quiet but… very protective.”

San let out a knowing laugh and nodded. “Ah, Fuma. Yeah, I know him. You two must be pretty serious.”

Euijoo’s cheeks warmed, but he just shrugged with a small laugh. “We are.”

San glanced across the yard toward where Fuma was standing, then back at Euijoo, amusement clear in his eyes. He sank another ball and let out a triumphant little whoop before waving someone over from the other side of the patio.

“Wooyoung! Come here for a sec!”

An energetic human with sharp eyes and a bright smile bounced over, immediately sliding under San’s arm like it was the most natural place in the world. Even at a glance, it was obvious they were mated with the matching soft glow in both their expressions.

“Wooyoung, this is Euijoo. Fuma’s boyfriend,” San introduced, grinning. “Euijoo, meet my menace.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ohhh, you’re Euijoo! Nicholas told me all about you.” He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “He said you’ve been dealing with some serious werewolf guilt bullshit lately.”

Euijoo let out a surprised laugh, nodding.

“Yeah… I dislocated my shoulder a few weeks ago during… uh, vigorous activities,” he admitted. “It was an accident, but Fuma’s been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since. I’m trying to make him so jealous and frustrated that he finally snaps. Hence… this.”

Wooyoung’s mouth dropped open in delight. San barked out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over.

“Oh my god, that’s perfect,” Wooyoung cackled, covering his mouth. “Keep going. He’s barely holding it together. I can see it from here.”

Euijoo grinned, relief and excitement bubbling in his chest. It felt good to have people who got it.

But then Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled with pure mischief as he looked between Euijoo and San.

“San, baby,” he said sweetly, patting his mate’s broad chest, “be a good friend and get a little handsy with Euijoo, yeah? We need to push Fuma right over the edge.”

San raised an eyebrow, amused. “You sure?”

“Very sure,” Wooyoung grinned, then turned to Euijoo with a knowing look. “Trust me. I know exactly how addictive werewolf sex is. Once you get used to it… it’s impossible to go back to normal.”

He winked at both of them, bright and wicked. “Have fun, boys.”

With that, Wooyoung sauntered off, leaving San chuckling under his breath.

They only had a few cups left on the table. The game had gotten close, but San and Euijoo were ahead. As they lined up their next shots, San stepped closer and casually rested his big hand on Euijoo’s lower back deliberately low, right where the crop top ended and bare skin began.

They played the last few rounds with focused energy. San’s hand stayed on Euijoo’s back the entire time, thumb occasionally stroking just above the waistband of his jeans. Every time Euijoo leaned forward to shoot, San’s touch followed, supportive and teasing.

When Euijoo sank the final cup, winning the game, San let out a loud victory shout.

“Yes! That’s my teammate!”

Before Euijoo could react, San scooped him up effortlessly into a spinning hug, lifting him clear off the ground. Euijoo laughed in surprise, gripping the other’s shoulders as he spun them both once. San’s nose brushed deliberately along the side of Euijoo’s neck - close enough to leave a fresh trace of another wolf’s scent on his skin.

When San finally set him down, he leaned in close, voice low.

“Good luck,” he whispered, lips curving into a smirk. “You’re about to get exactly what you wanted.”

Then San gave him a playful pat on the hip and walked off to find Wooyoung, leaving Euijoo standing there flushed and breathless.

Barely thirty seconds after San walked away, a large, burning-hot hand clamped around Euijoo’s wrist.

With no warning and no words, Fuma dragged him through the backyard, past the crowd, straight toward the exit with long, furious strides. Euijoo had to jog to keep up, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

“Fuma?” Euijoo tried, voice pitched with fake innocence. “What’s wrong?”

Fuma didn’t answer. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt but firm enough to say mine. His shoulders were rigid, breathing short and sharp through his nose like he was trying not to snarl in public. 

They walked the single block home in complete, heavy silence. Every step made the tension thicker. Euijoo could practically feel the jealousy and weeks of pent-up frustration rolling off Fuma in waves. It made his stomach flip with dark delight.

The second they stepped inside the apartment, Fuma slammed the door shut behind them with a loud bang that rattled the walls.

Euijoo barely managed to fight back the victorious grin threatening to break across his face. He could practically see steam rising off his boyfriend’s head. Fuma stood there in the entryway, chest heaving, eyes blazing bright amber as he stared Euijoo down like prey.

“You let another wolf touch you,” he finally growled, voice distorted and low. “Put his hands on your back. Rubbed his fucking scent all over your body.”

Euijoo tilted his head, biting his lip. “It was just a celebratory hug - ”

“Bullshit. You let someone else put their scent on what’s mine.”

“Well at least someone is willing to touch me,” Euijoo snapped, eyes flashing with frustration as he stared Fuma down. “At least someone isn’t treating me like I’m going to shatter if they breathe on me too hard.”

Fuma’s expression twisted. “I’m trying to protect you - ”

“I don’t need protection!” Euijoo cut him off, voice rising. “I need my boyfriend back! The big, strong, possessive werewolf who couldn’t keep his fucking hands off me. The one who used to pin me down and fuck me into the mattress until I couldn’t walk straight. I want him, Fuma. Not this scared, guilt-ridden version who flinches every time I even look at him like I want him.”

Fuma’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, claws pricking his palms. “I dislocated your shoulder last time. I’m not risking that again. I can’t - ”

Euijoo rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “How long is this bullshit going to last, huh? Another month? Two? Forever? Am I supposed to just wait around like some delicate little doll while you punish both of us because you’re scared?”

The tension in the hallway was suffocating.

Euijoo’s eyes landed on the small package sitting on the front hall table - the one that must’ve been delivered while they were out. Without another word, he snatched it up, ripped the tape open, and lifted the flaps. Then clamped a hand over his mouth because he absolutely, one hundred percent wanted to laugh.

Inside the box sat a silicone dildo. 

But not just any dildo. A knotting dildo.

It was huge, veined, with a thick swelling knot at the base and a slightly tapered tip. The colour was a deep, flushed red that looked almost too real. There was even a bottle of lube tucked beside it and instructions on how to properly use it. 

Nicholas was going to hell for buying him this.

Behind him, Fuma made a noise Euijoo had never heard before. Something between a choke and a snarl.

"What the fuck," Fuma rasped, "is that?"

Euijoo swallowed his grin, turned slowly, and held the dildo upright in his hand. 

"Oh," Euijoo said sweetly, "this? Just a gift from Nicholas."

"Why?" Fuma growled, voice suddenly dangerously low.

Euijoo shrugged, tilting the enormous toy back and forth so the silicone knot wobbled obscenely. "He knows about how you decided we'd go on a sex ban after my wrist injury and figured I would need something to help pass the time.

"You're joking," his boyfriend said hoarsely.

Euijoo wiggled the dildo again, smile slow and taunting. "Why would I be joking? You won't knot me anymore. Someone has to."

"Put it down."

"Why? I might as well try -"

"Euijoo," Fuma snarled, stepping forward, "Put. It. Down."

Euijoo held the dildo to his chest like a prize, lifting his eyebrows. Then he backed toward the kitchen, eyes challenging,

"Make me."

Fuma lunged forward, his hand shooting out to seize the massive silicone dildo straight out of Euijoo's fingers. Then, without breaking eye contact, he hurled it across the room with the full, furious strength of a pissed-off werewolf

It flew like a missile and there was a loud CRASH as it slammed into something - a lamp? A vase? A picture frame? Whatever it was didn't matter.

Fuma grabbed the human by the hips and shoved him backward into the kitchen counter hard enough to rattle the drawers. The edge dug into Euijoo's lower back, stealing a gasp from him, the mix of pain and pleasure something he's been waiting weeks for.

“The only cock going inside you, is mine.”

Before Euijoo could even react, the wolf was on him.

Big hands grabbed grabbed face, yanking him forward as Fuma crushed their mouths together in a violent, desperate kiss. Their teeth clashed painfully, lips smashing, but Euijoo moaned into it anyway, thrilled by the roughness. He tasted blood - his own, maybe Fuma’s - but it only made him kiss back harder, hands fisting in Fuma’s shirt.

The older growled deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through both of them. One arm wrapped around Euijoo’s waist and hauled him up against his body like he weighed nothing, pinning him to the counter with his full weight. The kiss was messy, angry, starving - weeks of denial and jealousy pouring out all at once. Fuma bit Euijoo’s bottom lip hard enough to sting, then soothed it with his tongue before diving back in, devouring him.

Euijoo’s head spun. This was what he’d been missing. The real Fuma. The one who took. The one who claimed.

When Fuma finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his eyes were glowing molten amber, pupils blown wide. His voice came out wrecked and dangerous.

“You want me to stop being careful?” he rasped, forehead pressed to Euijoo’s, breathing hot against his swollen lips. “You want your werewolf back?”

Euijoo nodded frantically, lips brushing Fuma’s with every word. “Yes. Please. I can take it. I want it.”

Fuma’s grip on his hips tightened bruisingly.

“Good.”

He dove back in, kissing Euijoo like he wanted to devour him whole, grinding harder against him while keeping him pinned to the counter.

Fuma licked a hot, possessive stripe across Euijoo’s mouth, then dragged his tongue slowly down the side of his neck. The moment he reached the spot where San had brushed his nose earlier, a deep, furious growl rumbled out of his chest.

He clearly hated the foreign scent clinging to Euijoo’s skin.

"And take this fucking shirt off too."

Fuma grabbed the collar of his cute, cropped shirt and ripped. With one violent swipe of his claws, the fabric split clean down the middle like wet paper, falling apart in tatters around Euijoo's arms,

Fuma dropped the ruined shirt onto the floor like trash, eyes blazing as he raked his gaze hungrily over Euijoo's newly exposed torso, The human sucked in a breath, chest bare and skin prickling.

The wolf attacked the newly exposed skin with his mouth by biting, licking, sucking hard across Euijoo’s neck, collarbones, chest, and ribs. His teeth left bright red marks and blooming bruises everywhere they touched, tongue immediately soothing over each fresh bite. He was methodical and relentless, dragging his face and mouth over every inch of Euijoo’s torso like he could erase San’s scent through sheer force of will.

Low, possessive growls vibrated against Euijoo’s skin with every new mark. Fuma’s hands gripped Euijoo’s waist hard, claws pricking just enough to sting as he held him in place against the counter. His hips kept rolling forward, grinding his cock against Euijoo’s in rough, needy thrusts.

The younger's head fell back, a broken moan slipping from his lips as pleasure and pain blurred together as the wolf’s mouth latched onto one of his nipples, sucking hard before scraping his teeth over the sensitive bud. 

At the same time, his hands worked frantically at Euijoo’s jeans. The button popped open, the zipper yanked down, and Fuma shoved the denim and underwear roughly down his thighs in one aggressive motion. Euijoo stepped out of the pooled fabric quickly, heart pounding.

The second he was naked, Fuma spun him around with rough hands and slammed him chest-first down onto the kitchen counter. A strong palm pressed firmly against the back of Euijoo’s neck, pinning him there, cool countertop shocking against his heated skin and puffy nipples.

Euijoo gasped sharply at the impact, the edge of the counter digging into his hips, but the sound melted into a needy moan when Fuma pressed up behind him. The werewolf’s still-clothed body covered his back completely, hard cock grinding against his bare ass through the fabric of his pants.

Fuma leaned over him completely, chest to back, mouth latching onto the side of Euijoo’s neck again. He sucked a fresh, dark mark right over where San’s scent had lingered earlier. His hips rolled forward in slow, filthy grinds, letting Euijoo feel exactly how hard and heavy he was.

Euijoo moaned helplessly into the countertop, cheek pressed to the cool surface, body trembling with anticipation and need. He was completely exposed, pinned, and aching - exactly where he’d wanted to be for weeks.

The wolf kept Euijoo pinned against the counter with that firm hand on the back of his neck, but his mouth began his descent. He dragged his tongue down the length of Euijoo’s spine tasting sweat and skin. Then came the teeth - possessive bites scattered across Euijoo’s back before he kissed and licked over every fresh bite like he was worshiping and claiming at the same time.

He moved lower, mouth trailing over the dip of Euijoo’s lower back, then across the curve of his hips. His hands gripped Euijoo’s waist hard, nails pricking just enough to sting as he held him open and vulnerable.

When Fuma reached the swell of Euijoo’s ass, he sank his teeth into one cheek. The younger cried out at the white-hot flash of pain, body jerking against the counter as warm blood welled up under Fuma’s tongue. The werewolf groaned in satisfaction, savouring the metallic taste mixed with Euijoo’s scent. He sucked hard on the bite mark, pulling more blood to the surface before soothing it with broad, wet strokes of his tongue.

The wolf moved to spread his cheeks wider with both hands, exposing him completely. He dragged his tongue in a teasing circle around Euijoo’s hole before pressing the flat of it directly over the tight ring of muscle. 

He ate Euijoo out with filthy devotion, tongue pushing inside, fucking into him in shallow thrusts while his hands kneaded and gripped the human’s ass. Euijoo moaned brokenly against the countertop, cheek pressed to the cool surface, mouth open as he panted. His cock hung heavy and leaking between his legs, dripping onto the kitchen floor in thin strands.

Fuma alternated between broad, flat licks and pointed thrusts of his tongue, occasionally pulling back to bite at the sensitive skin of Euijoo’s ass cheeks again, reopening the earlier bite mark and drawing fresh beads of blood. Then he’d soothe the sting immediately with his tongue, licking over the wound before returning to Euijoo’s hole like he couldn’t stand to be away from it for long.

Euijoo’s legs were shaking badly now, knees threatening to buckle. His hands scrabbled uselessly against the counter, nails scraping for purchase as pleasure crashed through him in heavy waves.

“F-Fuma - ” he gasped, voice hoarse and wrecked. “Please - ”

The wolf pulled back just enough to drag his tongue lower, licking a wet stripe over Euijoo’s balls. He sucked one into his mouth, rolling it gently with his tongue before doing the same to the other, humming with satisfaction at the way they tightened under his attention. 

Then Fuma moved even lower, licking a teasing stripe up the underside of Euijoo’s leaking cock, following the thick vein from base to tip. Without warning, he lightly bit down on the sensitive skin just beneath the head, sending a sharp jolt of pain straight through the younger’s body. Euijoo cried out, hips jerking against the counter as pleasure and sting blurred together.

Fuma looked down at Euijoo's glistening, twitching hole before leaning in and spitting directly onto it - a thick, warm glob of saliva landing right on target. Then pressed two thick fingers inside without any further warning.

The stretch was sudden and intense, Euijoo moaning loudly, the sound echoing off the kitchen tiles as Fuma’s fingers sank deep in one smooth push. Fuma curled them immediately, searching for that perfect spot and rubbing against it mercilessly once he found it.

Euijoo was a trembling mess - chest pressed to the counter, ass up, legs shaking violently as Fuma worked him open. Every drag of Fuma’s fingers against his prostate made him sob quietly, overwhelmed by the relentless pleasure.

Fuma suddenly pulled back, his fingers slipping out of Euijoo’s stretched hole with a wet sound. Before the human could protest, strong arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him effortlessly, spinning him around and setting him down on the edge of the kitchen counter. The cool surface pressed against his bare ass, making him shiver. His legs dangled for a moment before Fuma stepped between them, spreading them wide with his hips.

Fuma’s eyes stayed locked on Euijoo as he reached back and yanked his own shirt off in one rough motion, revealing the broad, muscled expanse of his chest and shoulders - strong arms flexing as he tossed the shirt aside. Then his hands dropped to his jeans, shoving them and his underwear down his thighs in one impatient push. He kicked them off, standing completely naked in front of his boyfriend.

His cock was hard and heavy, flushed dark and already leaking at the tip, the thick knot at the base already partially swollen with need. The sight made Euijoo’s mouth go dry.

Euijoo leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs wider on either side of Fuma’s hips in clear invitation. He was completely exposed - cock hard and leaking against his stomach, hole still shiny and twitching from Fuma’s earlier attention.

Fuma drank in the sight like a starving man: the fresh bite marks across Euijoo’s chest and nipples, the trail of red marks down his stomach, the way his cock throbbed under the attention, the way his hole clenched visibly under Fuma’s gaze. A deep, possessive rumble rolled through the werewolf's chest, his cock twitching hard between them.

He stepped closer, hands sliding up Euijoo’s spread thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft inner skin as he spread him even wider. 

“Fuck… look at you,” Fuma breathed. “All spread open for me. Marked up and so fucking pretty.”

In a single devastating stroke, Fuma buried himself to the hilt, hips slamming flush against Euijoo’s ass with a wet slap. The sheer size of him punched the air straight out of the younger's lungs.

A raw, broken sound tore from his throat as white-hot pain and blinding pleasure exploded up his spine. The stretch was overwhelming and burning, but perfect. His hole clenched violently around the sudden intrusion, spasming around Fuma’s thick length as his body struggled to adjust. His nails dug hard into Fuma’s shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in the strong muscle as he shook through the intense sensation.

Fuma groaned deeply into the crook of Euijoo’s neck, the sound almost pained with how good it felt. He pulled back just enough to give himself room, then drove back in with a powerful, rough thrust that slammed directly against Euijoo’s prostate. The angle was devastating.

Euijoo’s entire body jolted hard on the counter, a broken cry tearing from his throat as intense pleasure exploded through him, suddenly cumming with a startled shout.

His surprise orgasm crashed through him violently, sudden and overwhelming. His cock pulsed hard between their bodies, shooting thick ropes of cum across his own stomach and chest without a single touch. His legs shook uncontrollably, heels digging into Fuma’s lower back.

Fuma stilled for half a second, eyes wide with slight disbelief. He’d barely been inside Euijoo for a minute.

The younger just looked dazed, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused as he panted through the aftershocks. 

A slow, predatory smirk spread across Fuma’s face.

“Oh? That easy for me, baby?”

Before Euijoo could even catch his breath or form a response, Fuma gripped his thighs harder and started railing him in earnest.

No mercy. No recovery.

He kept Euijoo pinned on the edge of the counter, legs spread obscenely wide around his hips, and fucked him with deep, punishing strokes. Every thrust was powerful and precise, hips snapping forward hard enough to make the counter shake, cock dragging perfectly against Euijoo’s oversensitive prostate on every single pass.

Euijoo’s head fell back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and sobs. The overstimulation was intense, almost too much, but he couldn’t stop the way his body kept clenching greedily around Fuma’s thick length, pulling him deeper.

His hands scrambled desperately for something to hold onto. Fingers knocked into a glass jar of utensils, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud shatter. A bottle of olive oil followed right after, exploding on impact and spilling slick liquid across the tiles. Euijoo’s palm slapped against a wooden cutting board, shoving it off the edge where it clattered noisily. More items tumbled - a metal bowl, a pepper grinder, a small stack of plates - each one smashing or clanging against the floor in chaotic succession.

Fuma’s pace was brutal and relentless, each thrust driving deep and hard, and Euijoo’s moans were growing louder, more broken, his body trembling violently on the counter as another orgasm started building far too quickly.

Then Fuma delivered one particularly savage thrust and Euijoo threw his head back on a loud cry of pleasure, his skull smacking hard against the wooden cupboard above the counter with a thud.

For half a second, everything went still as both of them went wide-eyed as they looked at each other.

Then the absurdity hit them at the same time. Euijoo let out a breathless giggle first, quickly turning into full laughter. Fuma followed right after, a deep, surprised chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

“Are you okay?” Fuma asked, still laughing softly even as he gently cradled the back of Euijoo’s head, fingers carefully feeling for any bump. His brown eyes were soft with concern despite the grin tugging at his lips. “That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine,” Euijoo wheezed between giggles, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… ow. Kitchen sex hazard, I guess.”

Fuma snorted, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to Euijoo’s temple before pulling back to look at him properly. Once he was satisfied Euijoo wasn’t actually hurt, his expression shifted back into something hungry.

“Good. Because I’m not done with you.”

He gripped Euijoo’s thighs firmly and pulled him upright off the counter. The younger immediately wrapped his legs tight around Fuma’s waist, arms looping around his neck as their mouths crashed together again in a messy kiss. 

Fuma started walking them toward the bedroom, still buried deep inside Euijoo, every step making his cock shift and grind inside him. Euijoo moaned into his mouth, rolling his hips as best he could. But they only made it three steps before Fuma’s foot slipped hard on the mixture of spilled olive oil and other kitchen debris covering the floor. His balance went completely.

“Shit!”

They went down, Fuma twisting at the last second, landing hard on his back on the messy floor and taking the brunt of the impact. The sudden fall caused him to slip out of Euijoo completely, the younger letting out a surprised yelp.

For a second they just lay there in the middle of the destroyed kitchen - naked, covered in marks and cum and oil, surrounded by broken glass and spilled food. Then they both lost it again.

Laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, tears springing to their eyes before Euijoo leaned down, cupping Fuma’s face with both hands, and kissed him.

Their lips moved together tenderly, a small pocket of gentleness in the middle of all the chaos and mess. Fuma’s hand came up to cradle the back of Euijoo’s head, thumb stroking gently through his hair.

When Euijoo finally sat up, he dragged his nails slowly down the werewolf’s broad chest. Red lines bloomed across Fuma’s skin, making him hiss and arch up with a low groan.

Euijoo reached between them, wrapping his fingers around Fuma’s still-hard, slick cock. He stroked it once, twice, then lifted his hips and lined the thick head up with his hole.

Without breaking eye contact, he sank down. A moan slipped from Euijoo’s lips as he took every inch, feeling Fuma stretch him open all over again until he was fully seated, ass flush against Fuma’s hips.

The new position made everything feel even deeper and Euijoo rolled his hips experimentally, grinding down in a slow circle, savouring the heavy drag against his walls.

Fuma’s hands flew to his waist, fingers digging in hard as his head fell back against the floor with a wrecked groan.

“Fuck, Joo…”

Euijoo planted both hands on Fuma’s marked-up chest for leverage and started moving. He lifted his hips just enough to feel the thick drag of Fuma’s cock sliding almost all the way out, then sank back down with a long, shuddering moan. The slow grind let him feel every inch, every ridge, the way Fuma’s cock stretched him so perfectly. 

The human kept the pace torturously slow for a few more moments before he leaning forward slightly to change the angle and began bouncing properly. His nails dug into Fuma’s chest as he rode him faster, hips snapping down with increasing desperation. Sweat dripped down his spine, mixing with the oil and mess on the floor beneath them.

Every time he bottomed out, the sheer depth made his breath catch - Fuma’s cock felt like it was reaching all the way up into his stomach, pressing against his insides in the most overwhelming, filthy way.

“Fuck, so deep,” Euijoo whimpered.

His thighs were already burning from the effort, muscles straining as he rode Fuma with increasing desperation but he didn’t slow down. He kept slamming down, ass meeting Fuma’s hips with loud, wet smacks that echoed through the ruined kitchen.

Euijoo’s hand flew to his own stomach, pressing down just below his navel. He could feel the distinct, firm bulge of Fuma’s cock pushing up against his insides with every thrust and a broken, needy sound escaped him.

He grabbed Fuma’s wrist with his free hand and dragged it up, pressing the werewolf’s large palm firmly against the bulge on his stomach.

“Feel that?” Euijoo gasped, still bouncing. “You’re so deep.”

Fuma’s eyes widened, pupils blown wide with lust as his palm pressed down against the moving bulge. With a deep growl, he gripped Euijoo’s hips hard and in one motion, he flipped them over, rolling Euijoo beneath him on the messy kitchen floor.

Euijoo’s back hit the tiles with a wet slap, small broken shards of glass and ceramic digging into his shoulders and spine, the sharp pricks barely registering. All he could focus on was the way Fuma’s huge cock stretched him open as the new position drove it even deeper.

Fuma loomed over him, bracing one hand beside Euijoo’s head and started fucking him in earnest. Every snap of his hips made the human’s body jolt against the floor. The glass shards pressed deeper into his back with every thrust, but the sting only blurred into the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked so thoroughly. Fuma’s heavy knot at the base catching on his rim and threatening to push inside.

“Fuck Fuma,” Euijoo moaned brokenly, legs wrapping high around the werewolf’s waist, heels digging into his lower back to pull him deeper.

Even with the awkward, slippery surface, Fuma didn’t slow down. He drove into Euijoo with deep, powerful thrusts, hips snapping forward relentlessly. 

He buried his face in Euijoo’s neck, biting down hard on the sensitive skin before licking over the fresh mark with a hot, possessive tongue. His mouth trailed over Euijoo’s shoulders, biting and licking in equal measure, leaving a messy trail of red marks and saliva.

Fuma then leaned down further, sucking harshly on one nipple while his hips kept pounding forward. He licked across Euijoo’s sternum, then bit down on the other side of his chest, growling against his skin. His tongue dragged over Euijoo’s ribs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his sides before moving back up to bite at his shoulders again.

Euijoo was a complete wreck beneath him. His back arched off the messy tiles, nails raking down Fuma’s back as moans and whimpers spilled from his lips. The combination of Fuma’s huge cock splitting him open and the stinging bites all over his torso had his head spinning.

With every deep, powerful thrust, the base of Fuma’s cock was swelling noticeably - the thick knot slowly inflating, stretching his already abused hole even wider. The pressure was intense, bordering on too much, but it sent a violent shiver of anticipation racing down Euijoo’s spine.

He wanted it. He needed it.

On the next thrust, Euijoo lifted his hips eagerly, rolling them up to meet Fuma, trying to take the growing knot inside him. His hole stretched around the thickening base, greedy and desperate after so many weeks of denial.

He knew how big Fuma’s knot was. Usually it took him a long time - lots of prep, patience, and often multiple orgasms - before he could even dream of taking it. Humans simply weren’t built to stretch around something that thick. And yet, right now, after weeks of aching emptiness, Euijoo felt nothing but raw, desperate hunger for it.

But Fuma noticed at the exact same moment. His thrusts became shallower, more controlled, deliberately keeping the swelling knot from popping past Euijoo’s rim. He was holding back again - still trying to be careful even now.

Euijoo let out a loud, frustrated whine, the sound cracking into something pathetic. He locked his legs high around Fuma’s waist, heels digging hard into the small of the werewolf’s back, and yanked him closer with surprising strength.

“Please,” he begged, voice wrecked and shaking. “Fuma give me your knot. I want it. I want all of you. Please, please, fuck me full and stuff me with your knot, I can take it, I swear - ”

Fuma let out a deep, tortured groan, forehead dropping to Euijoo’s shoulder as his hips stuttered.

“Joo… fuck, you’re killing me,” he rasped, voice strained.

“I need it. I’ve been empty for so long. Please knot me. Breed me. Make me yours again.”

That finally broke the last of Fuma’s resistance.

With a loud groan, the werewolf shifted his weight, sliding one arm under Euijoo’s lower back and dragging him even closer. The new angle let him drive in harder, deeper as the thick swell of his knot battered insistently against the younger's stretched rim.

Euijoo’s face twisted, a sharp wince breaking through his pleasure as his rim strained around the thick bulge. Fuma noticed immediately and leaned down, capturing Euijoo’s mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue slid against Euijoo’s, distracting him from the burn. When he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was low and rough, full of praise.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good for me,” Fuma murmured against his lips, kissing him again between words. “So fucking perfect. Taking my knot like you were made for it. Relax for me, yeah?”

His free hand wrapped around Euijoo’s cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive head on every upstroke, spreading the non-stop leaking precum. The dual sensation of Fuma’s hand on his cock and the overwhelming stretch in his ass made Euijoo’s head spin.

Fuma kept kissing him through it - alternating between deep, hungry kisses that stole his breath, soft affectionate ones pressed to the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his cheek. Every time Euijoo winced at a particularly hard push of the knot, Fuma was there, licking into his mouth and whispering praise.

The burn was still there but Fuma’s hand on his cock and the constant stream of praise were pulling him back under, turning the discomfort into something hotter.

A broken, high-pitched cry tore from Euijoo’s throat as he came hard for the second time. His cock pulsed violently in Fuma’s fist, shooting thick ropes of cum across his own stomach and chest. His hole clenched and fluttered wildly around the massive intrusion, the orgasm making his rim relax just enough.

Fuma didn’t waste the opportunity and shoved forward, forcing the entire swollen knot past the younger's stretched rim in one powerful thrust. The thick bulge popped inside with an obscene, wet sound, locking them together instantly. The pressure was immense, almost unbearable, making the human’s orgasm drag on longer, weaker spurts of cum still leaking from his cock.

Fuma groaned loudly, burying his face in Euijoo’s neck as his hips jerked with shallow, trapped movements. He sank his teeth into the meat of Euijoo’s shoulder - right over the spot werewolves traditionally marked their mates. Sharp fangs pierced skin as Fuma snarled against him, hips jerking hard even though the knot kept him from pulling back.

His knot swelled even larger inside Euijoo as thick, hot pulses of cum flooded him. Rope after rope of it pumped deep into Euijoo’s body. The sheer volume was overwhelming - Fuma filled him so full, so fast, that Euijoo could feel his stomach distending slightly from the pressure. 

Even with the knot sealing him shut, it was too much. Warm cum started leaking out around the thick knot anyway - slick, pearly white fluid dripping down Euijoo’s ass and onto the messy floor in rivulets.

When the last pulse finally faded, Fuma’s arms wrapped fully around Euijoo, cradling him close as their mouths found each other again. Their lips moved sweetly, almost lazily, tongues brushing gently. Every now and then one of them would pull back just enough to breathe, only to lean in again like they couldn’t stand even that small distance.

Euijoo’s hands roamed softly over Fuma’s back, tracing the red lines he’d left with his nails, while Fuma’s palms stroked up and down Euijoo’s sides and thighs in long, soothing passes. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, cum, and oil, but neither cared. Fuma pressed their foreheads together, noses brushing in soft, affectionate nuzzles. 

“You okay?” Fuma whispered. He nuzzled their noses again, then tilted his head to kiss the corner of Euijoo’s mouth, his cheek, the fresh bite on his shoulder.

Euijoo hummed, eyes half-closed in bliss. He slid one hand up to cup the back of Fuma’s neck, fingers threading through damp hair as he returned the gentle kisses.

“Yeah… I’m perfect,” he murmured, still a little breathless before leaning in and kissing his boyfriend again before pulling away so they could look directly into each other’s eyes. 

“Never ice me out like that again. I can’t take it. Not from you.”

Fuma’s expression crumpled. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into Euijoo’s palms.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, voice cracking. “I wasn’t trying to be mean on purpose. I was just… terrified. I hurt you so badly last time. Every time I looked at you, I kept seeing you crying in the truck, the sling, the hospital… I couldn’t risk doing that to you again. I thought staying away from sex would keep you safe.”

Euijoo shook his head, eyes shining with emotion.

“I love you, Fuma. I’m not scared of you. Not one bit,” he said firmly. “I’ll never be scared of you, Fuma. You’re my werewolf. My big, strong, protective idiot.” A small, fond smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll even start drinking more milk if that means my bones will get stronger. I don’t care. I just want you. All of you. The rough parts too.”

Fuma’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, pupils blowing wide as the full weight of those three words hit him. For a long moment he just stared, lips parted, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

This was the very first time either of them had said it.

Fuma let out a shaky breath, something between a laugh and a sob, and pressed their foreheads together again. His arms tightened around Euijoo, holding him as close as their locked bodies would allow.

“I love you too, Euijoo. I love you so much and I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted. I was trying to protect you and I ended up hurting you more.”

Euijoo nuzzled their noses once more, then kissed him sweetly.

“Just… don’t shut me out again, okay? We’ll figure it out together. Rough or gentle. Fast or slow. I can take it. I want it. As long as it’s with you.”

Fuma nodded, eyes glassy, and captured Euijoo’s mouth in another slow, heartfelt kiss. His hand stroked gently down Euijoo’s side as they stayed pressed together on the ruined kitchen floor, hearts slowing, bodies still joined.

Euijoo let out a slow, content breath, one hand idly stroking up and down Fuma’s back while the other played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck. Their heartbeats gradually synced up, slow and steady against each other.

After a few long, quiet moments, Euijoo’s lips curved into a small, mischievous smile.

“You know…” he murmured, voice still a little hoarse, “you’re really going to have to make this up to me.”

Fuma hummed against his shoulder, nosing lazily at the fresh bite mark he’d left there. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. A lot of lost time. Weeks of you treating me like I was made of glass. No sex. No rough stuff. No knotting…” He rolled his hips just enough to feel the thick knot shift inside him, earning a low groan from Fuma. “You owe me, big guy.”

Fuma chuckled softly, the sound warm and tired. He pressed a slow kiss to Euijoo’s collarbone before lifting his head to meet his eyes.

“I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’ll make it up to you. Every single day if you want.” His thumb brushed tenderly over Euijoo’s cheek. “As many times as you can handle. Rough. Gentle. On the counter, on the floor, in the bed… wherever. However long it takes.”

Euijoo’s smile widened, soft and fond. He leaned up just enough to brush their noses together again.

“Good. Because I’m keeping track,” he teased lightly. “Starting tonight.”

Fuma’s eyes darkened with renewed heat, even as he smiled. 

“Let’s clean up a bit first.”

Euijoo let out a breathless little laugh that melted into a soft moan as Fuma kissed him again and when the wolf’s knot finally slipped free, a flood of warm cum poured out of Euijoo’s abused hole, dripping down his thighs and onto the already filthy floor.

Fuma scooped his lover up into his arms like he weighed nothing, one arm under his back and the other beneath his knees. Euijoo instinctively wrapped his arms around Fuma’s neck, tucking his face against his shoulder as the werewolf carried him carefully out of the destroyed kitchen and straight into the bathroom where he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until steam began to fill the small space. 

“Get in first,” Fuma said softly, brushing damp hair out of Euijoo’s eyes. “I’ll clean up the kitchen real quick so we don’t step on glass later. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Euijoo nodded, legs still a little shaky as he stepped under the hot spray. The moment the water hit his skin, he let out a long, relieved sigh. The heat felt incredible after everything. He tilted his head back, letting the stream wash over his face, through his hair, and down his body. 

Pink-tinged water swirled around his feet as dried blood, cum, sweat, and bits of food rinsed off his skin. Euijoo closed his eyes and just stood there for a moment, letting the water soothe his overworked muscles. His fingers absently traced over the fresh mating bite on his shoulder, a small, private smile tugging at his lips.

A few minutes later, the shower curtain rustled and Fuma stepped in behind him, immediately wrapping his arms around Euijoo’s waist from behind. His big, warm body pressed flush against the younger's back, nose nuzzling into the side of his neck.

“Missed you already,” Fuma whispered, kissing the fresh mark on his shoulder.

Euijoo leaned back into him with a content hum, reaching up to thread his fingers through Fuma’s wet hair. The hot water continued to cascade over them as Fuma reached for the body wash. He lathered his hands generously, then began washing Euijoo.

His large palms slid over Euijoo’s shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. Every touch was tender, almost worshipful as if he could apologize through his fingertips.

Euijoo melted into him, eyes half-closed, letting his head rest back against Fuma’s chest. He was pliant and sleepy in the aftermath, trusting Fuma completely as the warm water and gentle hands soothed his aching body.

When they finally stepped out, Fuma wrapped Euijoo in a big, fluffy towel first, then dried him off with the same gentle patience. He patted Euijoo’s skin dry, then moved on to the marks.

One by one, Fuma cleaned every bite and bruise with a soft cloth and antiseptic. After each one, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to the spot - over Euijoo’s collarbones, his chest, his ribs, the scattered marks across his stomach and hips. He saved the worst one for last.

Fuma stood behind Euijoo in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully cleaning the deep bite on his shoulder. The mark was dark and angry - a clear bite, deep enough to scar. Fuma’s expression was soft and serious as he dabbed at it gently.

“For the next full moon,” Euijoo suddenly spoke, quietly but firmly, “I’m going to be there with you. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Fuma paused for a second, cloth hovering over the bite. His eyes lifted slowly, meeting Euijoo’s reflection.

“I mean it, Fuma,” the younger continued. “I want all of you. The wolf too.”

Fuma swallowed hard. He set the cloth down and wrapped his arms around Euijoo from behind, pulling him back against his chest. His chin rested on Euijoo’s uninjured shoulder as he met his eyes again in the mirror.

“…Okay. If you really want to be there… I won’t push you away anymore.” The wolf said with a nod. 

A nod that meant:

I’m scared, but I trust you more than the fear.