The Black Rose [The Devil Judge]

Olive branch

Yohan took a tentative step into the apartment, into Gaon's world. It wasn't lost on him that they'd only ever interacted at the office or at the mansion, or anywhere else that was of Yohan's machinations. He wondered if it was to his advantage that things between always happened on his turf, on his terms.

Or if he'd somehow laid himself bare to a man, he knew nothing about.

The apartment was small, but roomy enough to afford him movement because Gaon didn't clutter the inside. He just had a bed, a closet, and a reading area. Gaon reserved all his clutter for the veranda right outside his door were there was barely any room to step for fear of crushing a potted plant.

It was quiet, but not in the menacing way that the mansion was. He could still hear cars from the road and conversation from the street and other apartments. Living in this apartment, was not insolation. This was comfort. This was calm. This was an avenue to community. Three things that the mansion was not.

No wonder Gaon kept coming back.

"You're selling this place," Yohan said, gently nudging the makeshift posts beneath Gaon's bed.

"Excuse me," Gaon replied, closing the door, but making no move to come back in, careful of the distance between them.

Yohan hated the distance.

"You can't keep running back here every time we get in a fight."

Gaon clenched his fist, then buried them in his pockets.

"I'm not selling my house."

"I'll buy you a better one. One closer to the mansio-"

"Did you come here for a reason, Sir?"

Yohan wanted to ignore him and finish what he'd started saying. Instead, he sat on the bed. Soft. He tried to bounce on it, but it didn't bounce. It just absorbed his weight and pulled him in.

"Come back with me."

"Sir-"

"It's what we do Gaon. We fight and then we make up."

Gaon leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his hands in front of his torso.

"That's not the best way to live."

"I don't care."

"I do. And I don't want to pressure you-"

Yohan laughed.

"-into anything that you don't want."

"Do you think we've done anything that I don't want?"

"You may have wanted it in the moment, but regret tends to colour memories of the experience."

Gaon was right. Yohan had wanted it, God, he'd wanted it like his skin was burning and Gaon had a bucket of water. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so desperate for anything before that day at the office where he'd kissed Gaon and sucked him off.

The moment they were done, Yohan was wrought with shame. His depraved needs were usually confined to protected walls with partners who knew better than to speak of it.

"Do you know where I'm supposed to be today?"

Gaon shook his head.

"Think."

Comprehension dawned on Gaon.

"It's the third Saturday of the month."

"Yes." Yohan nodded. "I have a standing appointment that I don't think I'm going to be able to keep."

Gaon pushed off the wall as his hands fell to his sides, then he schooled his expression, attempting to pull back the veil of nonchalance he'd worn ever since Yohan entered the apartment. Eventually, he gave up, placing a hand on his hips.

"What does that mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean?"

As the words left his mouth, Yohan didn't think truer words could have existed. He was starving and for some reason, Gaon felt like the perfect source to quench his thirst. He could go for his appointment. He could have Josephine or Stephen whip him till his body quivered and craved release. He could do that. But it wouldn't be enough. Not anymore.

"What does that mean?" Gaon asked again, sounding worried. "We're not doing anything until we understand what we want from each other."

"I want everything from you," Yohan replied quietly.

"Sir," Gaon said softly taking a step forward, but backing up immediately.

Yohan frowned at Gaon's feet. He wanted Gaon to cover that distance, but he didn't know how to say it. He couldn't find the words.

"I should be more specific," Yohan said. "I don't want you to hurt me. I don't want you to leave me. I don't want you to hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"I hate it when you leave." His voice shook.

"I'm right here, Sir."

"I hate that you still call me Sir. Gaon, you've ejaculated in my mouth for fucksake."

The words came out harsher than he' intended. As Gaon's frown deepened, Yohan rushed to rectify his mistake.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to sound that way. You can... you can call me whatever you-"

"Yohan-hyung."

Every word in Yohan's mind screeched to halt after Gaon spoke. Unable to speak, he just sat there with his mouth hanging open.

"Hyung-nim?" Gaon asked, walking towards Yohan, slowly. "Or just Yohan?"

Yohan-hyung. That was the one Yohan liked the best. But he couldn't convey that because Gaon was getting closer and closer till he crouched between Yohan's legs and knelt on the ground.

"Which do you prefer?"

"What are you doing?"

Gaon took Yohan' hands in his own and held them to his chest. He was so close. He was still so beautiful. Yohan just wanted to kiss him.

But before he could, Gaon leaned up and pressed his lips to Yohan's in a soft, fleeting kiss.