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The garage shutter slowly closed. As the warm amber lights blinked on in that vast yet private space, Nam Gijun didn’t rush to turn off the engine, but simply said to the person sitting in the passenger seat, “We’re here. Go on up.”
Nam Giseok turned his head and gave a glance to Gijun, whose hand still rested on the steering wheel. Under his older brother’s gaze, he unbuckled his seatbelt.
He moved to place his hand on the door handle, but didn’t pull it. Instead, his body and fingers remained suspended in that posture.
“What’s wrong? Something else on your mind?” Gijun asked again.
“…Hyung,” Giseok took a deep breath before turning back to face him. In the slowly dimming lights of the garage — triggered by the lack of movement — he looked at his older brother and said, “We don’t get to see each other that often. Since there's no one around, why don't you come up, and stay a little bit longer?”
Gijun didn’t respond immediately. He looked into his younger brother’s dark eyes — shadowed behind his lenses, yet unwavering and intense, focused solely on him.
“Giseok,” he called out softly, replying with all the gentleness he could muster. The roughness of his voice couldn’t hide the fact that this wasn’t the first time his younger brother had pleaded, even begged, without disguise. “I shouldn’t interfere too much in your life. It's pretty late, so go have some rest.”
Giseok gave a small smile, as if he was expecting such a response from his kind yet evasive older brother.
He said nothing more. Instead, he leaned closer toward the driver’s seat and pressed the engine button.
The engine cut off immediately, leaving only the ring of taillights glowing behind them. After all, Gijun had clearly been ready to drop his dongsaeng off and peel away without even lifting his foot from the brake.
Gijun raised his hand in mock surrender, that taut string inside him slowly unraveling. He obediently shifted his foot away.
“Giseok…” he murmured, pressing his lips together as if trying to fight one last time against the dignity and restraint that came from both being the older brother, and the adult.
After all, tonight, Nam Giseok had said little, but his stubbornness had taken root — like a wild rabbit pushing against his limits, emboldened by the knowledge that his brother wouldn’t strike or scold him.
Still maintaining the position that had already broken into Gijun's private space, Giseok removed his glasses and slipped them into his coat pocket.
In the past, he would only take off his glasses when preparing for a fight — no, when he was about to discipline some unruly subordinates — trying to avoid any unnecessary damage. But this time, he removed them simply to focus entirely on something more important — the person sitting beside him in this intimate space.
His most precious one.
Without those intrusive lenses, even though his vision blurred and ghosted at the edges, Giseok could now stare at Gijun's face with unfiltered closeness.
He traced the shape of his brother’s eyes, still subtly downturned even in moments of calm, and the faint blue shadow of stubble around his lips, which would probably feel itchy on his skin.
At this intimate distance where their breaths tangled, Giseok could smell the faint musk Gijun carried from years of living deep in the forest, the scent of fire, charred wood, and inevitably — that unmistakable metallic tinge of blood.
No matter how much he avoided it, the stench of rust was something neither of them could escape from this world. It was the most visceral reminder of the blood they shared.
And that scent — he knew it well. It lived inside his own body as well. No amount of expensive cologne could wash it away.
Beneath the thickening, ambiguous silence, Gijun let his gaze linger on his younger brother’s delicate face as well. However, what he noticed first was instead, a faint scar across Giseok’s cheek, just a few centimeters beneath his eye.
Though it had already scabbed over, the crimson, even more sharper seen from Giseok's skin, stabbed directly into Gijun's eyes like a throne.
He furrowed his brows, lifted a hand, and gently brushed his thumb across that mark, feeling the contradicted warmness beneath it.
“Who did that?” He asked.
“I scraped it against a wall. Accidentally. Not a big deal.” Giseok blinked and replied, sounding nonchalant.
“A wall with knives?” Gijun sighed towards this bad joke. “Just be more careful next time.”
Giseok just smiled, raised his own hand and placed it over Gijun’s fingers, which were covered with more scars from splitting logs, and being carved by colder blades. All those uneven textures were threads of tenderness, stretching endlessly through time to him.
Giseok tilted his face slightly, and pressed a soft kiss to the pads of Gijun's fingers.
Gijun let his brother’s soft lips brush over his rough skin. “Giseok,” he murmured, “wait —”
But his sentence was swallowed by a sudden kiss. Giseok leaned in without hesitation.
Caught off guard, Gijun shuddered slightly, but the only response he received instead was a deepening kiss. In that electrified moment, Gijun felt the warmth of Giseok's mouth — the emotions he could never put into words now poured into every touch of his lips and tongue.
He had always loved seeing Giseok's subtle, private smile — something his brother only showed in front of him.
And now, the owner of that same smile was kissing him, with lips and tongue and need, even licking at his teeth. Giseok was a trembling rabbit, soothing the very predator about to devour him.
And yet, it was the same as himself — both of them could easily destroy a group when it came to fights and kills, but both of them were also hopelessly clumsy when it came to the moments like this. After all, they had no experience in love, nor any training in intimacy.
All they knew was the visceral, undeniable truth that the other existed — body, and blood.
“…What are you trying to do?” Gijun asked hoarsely when Giseok finally pulled away.
Giseok only took off his coat, and threw it in the back seat. Then, tilting his chin and loosening the tie at his collar, he didn’t pull it off entirely.
The open collar revealed his collarbone — sharp, defined, and beautiful as his body was.
“What do you think? Since you won’t give me a chance, then I’ll make one right in front of you.” he said, straddling his older brother’s lap in one smooth movement.
Precisely with one single attempt, he reached for the seat recline button.
Gijun felt his body tilt back under Giseok’s almost-there possession. His voice, clean and determined, burnt Gijun in the chest like a fire.
“I want you here, hyung.”
This runaway rabbit had truly lost control — after all the years of struggling through storms outside, Giseok wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries, or some mediocre and boring carings.
No — on this rare, sleepless night of reunion, what he’d planned was to fuck and have his hyung, completely and naturally.
Gijun allowed Giseok to pull off his jacket, and watched as his fingers brushed over the folds of his shirt, tracing the ridges of old scars that no longer hurt.
But just as everything seemed to flow forward, Giseok paused. His fingers stopped, hesitating for anything more intimate.
After a beat, Gijun reached up, grabbed Giseok's belt, and swiftly unfastened it with one hand.
“…Hyung?” Giseok laughed a little, eyes widening as his usual composure wavered for the first time tonight.
Well, Gijun figured, since his dongsaeng had unsettled the fire, he might as well be burnt by, or burn with him.
The wildfire that will burn every last bit of restraint and reason between them into a pile of sticky yet honest lust. Eventually.
He unbuttoned Giseok’s blazer, yanking it aside. By the time Giseok tried to utter a breathless protest, "Wait, hyung,", and to realize what his brother was trying to do for him, Gijun had already lifted himself up, just enough to take Giseok's erected penis into his mouth.
He sucked gently, gradually deepening the movement. The hollows of his cheeks curved inward, accentuating his sharp cheekbones.
Feeling the column body grew harder in his mouth, Gijun half lidded his eyes, letting one hand slide up to his younger brother’s waist.
He watched — no, savored and enjoyed —the silhouette straddling his lap, listened to the mounting gasps and moans twisting Giseok’s cold voice into something raw. His hand and mouth felt every twitch, every tremble — sweeping away what little was left of their morality, their caution, their denial.
Just as he planned to go deeper, to press the top against the back of his throat, a sudden tug on his hair made him flinch. Giseok’s grip was tight, nearly ripping out a handful of strands.
He pulled Gijun off with both hands, panting hard.
“…You don’t have to do it.” he bit out. His lips were flushed, bitten red, and trembling. “I don’t want you to feel… not that clean.”
He doesn't give a shit about that, given it was his younger brother's body. However, without saying a word about that, Gijun just smiled, and reached for a tissue from the side compartment.
“It was you who started that.” he said. “Well, then I think it's time to...”
His sentence was interrupted by a loud slap on his palm, which also stopped another movement from him.
“…Giseok?” Gijun called again, tentatively and confusedly. Leaving Giseok still on top of him, with pants still pushed down, without questioning anything further, Gijun watched Giseok reached back, and grabbed something from another inner pocket in his coat.
With a sound of swoosh, a bottle of lubricant was thrown in front of him.
“Don’t you dare leaving here, hyung.” Giseok said to his brother. Chin raised, tone commanding, taking back his control and dominance.
He started to unbuckle Gijun's belt and button, while squeezing a pile of lubricant on Gijun's empty, opened palm.
“It's a long night.” Giseok added.
Sure it is, and where else can he go? Without Giseok, or only with the forced compromise from life —Gijun wouldn't move one step further.
With tender and full preparation, Gijun entered Giseok's body. However, still getting unused to his length and size, Giseok cannot take Gijun in fully at once.
Gijun moved slowly, only shallowly grinding in the first half of his penis, making no effort to rush.
“Giseok ah… Does it hurt?” he asked softly, hand sliding up from his younger brother’s waist to cup his flushed, sweat-dampened face, attempting to warm Giseok even more — to let him gently melt down in his hands.
He tilted Giseok's face downward, kissed the teardrops gathering on the bridge of Giseok's nose, and the corners of his wet eyes.
“If it hurts, Let me know. I'll stop anytime." Gijun muttered, tenderly and softly.
But all he got in return was a deeper kiss from Giseok, who lowered himself inch by inch, slowly taking in all of Gijun’s length, with a chorus of slick sounds and burning warmth.
“Don’t stop… hyung.” He clung to Gijun, whispering like a prayer between kisses, his eyes already heavy-lidded from the intensity of the movement. “Don’t stop… no matter what…”
Immersed into the wetness of his eyes and his voice, which almost began to dissolve into gasps, Gijun heard another phrase, “Hold me tight...Tighter, hyung...”
So he did, holding Giseok’s back harder, pressing him closer to himself, pressing their bodies together until they could feel each other’s heartbeats pounding in perfect, synchronized sounds.
They merged from the inside out, just as they always had in their spirit, via their unsaid feelings to each other, long before their bodies caught up.
Gijun felt the burning inside of Giseok. A person who is always as cold as a pine in winter via the outside can still feel so flaming in the inner part, he thought; maybe it was because their blood, forever intertwined, was also always boiling there.
Holding Giseok tight and hard, slowly but powerfully with every thrust he made, Nam Gijun left his mark of stopping and dominance, again and again, inside his brother.
The car they sat in, steamed up with the heat of their union, fogging every window, was also cloaking the scene like a bathhouse. Their bodies moved and trembled in sync, like they were tossing on a sea with no storm could break apart; even if this boat split in half, they would cling to each other like masts — unshakable and unbroken, no matter what.
Through it all — even though Giseok had already shut down his eyelids, with all of his withholding suppression washed away, simply wanting more from his brother, with the crying moaning ‘hyung, give me more” — Gijun never closed his eyes.
Instead, he just kept his gaze fixed, across Giseok’s shoulder, beyond the windshield, past the glass doors ahead.
It was throughout darkness on the other side, but he still saw something there. He saw a flaming crucifix, collapsing down into broken pieces, wailing, shattering. All the vines of restraint that had strangled them to touch, embrace, possess each other, jumping and screaming beyond this shatter of blood and kinship, moral-less or not — all burned with it. Gone.
To hell with gods and heaven, Gijun thought. If the divine couldn’t promise them one safe haven to hold each other in the light — then how can faith avail? How can hope grow?
All he needed to do was to follow Nam Giseok. No matter that path leads to heaven or hell.
Giseok was the first one to climax, biting down on Gijun’s shoulder with the same position to mark and claim him, spraying out the white heat between them. Gijun followed the moment after, ejaculating within the most burning part inside of Giseok.
They didn’t let each other go. Still entangled, they slumped against the soaked car seats, breathing in unison.
“Satisfied?” Gijun asked, brushing the sweat-drenched hair from his younger brother’s face, not caring about the mess they just created together.
Giseok sighed, the usual crease between his eyebrows finally smoothed out completely as well. He leaned into his older brother’s neck, burying himself in the scent of forest and fire, like a cat returning to his favorite corner to rest and sleep.
“As always, hyung.” He replied, voice saturated with affection and sleepiness.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After cleaning up, Gijun finally walked upstairs to Giseok’s apartment — carrying his younger brother at the same time.
Giseok had nearly fallen asleep in the car. Now, he draped his long legs over Gijun’s arms, head nestled on his shoulder, breath already evening out.
Inside Giseok’s cool, minimalist bedroom, Gijun gently laid him on the bed.
after he pulled up the blanket and drew the curtains, just about to sit at the edge, Giseok reached out and caught his wrist.
“…Are you leaving now?” he murmured, half-asleep, half-pleading.
Gijun didn’t answer that right away. He sat there in the silver lake of moonlight that blanketed the room, waiting quietly, until Giseok’s hand fell away naturally. He waited for the rhythm of his breathing to slow and deepen.
Then he leaned down, softly tousled his dongsaeng’s hair, and let the back of his hand graze Giseok’s warm cheek.
“Good night, Giseok.” he whispered. “Until we meet again. Soon.”
Then he turned away, walking back into the endless night belonging to him, waiting for one more sunrise for a beautiful tomorrow.
Wherever the path might lead — be in dream, heaven, hell, or some sunless corner of this ruthless world — he would always follow him.
Always.