The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 94

Ye Jun

He caught my wrist gently, not squeezing, just holding it still, and his eyes were all wide and earnest like he was actually worried about me instead of pissed that I was killing the mood. "Ye Jun. Come on. You bolted in there after we were right in the middle of it and now you’re back acting like a pissed-off cat that got its tail stepped on. Did I do something wrong? Was I too slow or too gentle or.... I don’t know, tell me. I’m not gonna get mad, I swear. I just... I like this with you. I don’t want it to suck because you’re forcing it."

My chest did that tight squeeze thing again, the one that made me want to punch something, and I yanked my wrist free but didn’t climb off him yet. "Forcing it? Jesus, Ohm, you’re making me sound like some delicate flower who can’t handle a little dick. I was the one who agreed to this whole tutor thing on the dance floor, remember? I’m not forcing anything, you’re the one who’s overthinking every single second like it’s gonna break me. It’s an ex thing, okay? Old stuff from some partner I regret, whatever, don’t make it weird. It’s not a big deal and I don’t wanna talk about it, so can we please just fuck and forget I ever left the room?"

The lie tasted like ash in my mouth but I forced it out anyway, voice cracking a little on the last part even though I tried to cover it with another snort. "Or what, you want me to draw you a diagram of my tragic backstory first? Spoiler: it’s boring and I’m over it."

Ohm sat up more, sheet slipping down around his waist, and he looked at me so steady it made my stomach twist. "An ex? That’s it? Because you came back in here with red eyes and shaking hands. I’m not buying the ’whatever’ act, dude. You don’t have to tell me everything but don’t lie to my face and then try to climb on me like it’ll fix it. We can stop. We can put clothes on and just... I don’t know, eat snacks or watch something dumb on my phone. I’m not here just for the sex part."

I groaned loud and dramatic, rolling my eyes so hard it hurt, but my voice came out sharper than I meant. "Snacks? Oh my god, you’re killing me here. What are we, on a playdate? I don’t need snacks, I need you to stop being such a nice guy for two seconds so I can pretend this is normal and not some weird pity party." I tried to lean in and kiss him again but he turned his head a little, so it landed on his jaw instead, and that just pissed me off more. "Fine! You want the partial truth? Someone I regret, okay? Don’t make it weird. It’s not like it’s my family or some crazy shit, it’s just a dumb issue from a partner who was a total asshole and now it’s there and I hate looking at it. Happy now? Can we drop it and get back to the part where you’re inside me and I don’t have to think?"

He didn’t laugh or snap back like I expected. Instead he wrapped both arms around my waist and pulled me closer, not in a sexy way but like he was hugging me, chin resting on my shoulder. "Ye Jun... that sucks. I’m sorry. You don’t have to hide shit from me, you know? I’m not gonna judge you or run off screaming because of some ex’s stuff. I just want you to feel good, not like you’re hiding the whole time."

I froze against him, my arms hanging limp at my sides for a second before I shoved at his chest half-heartedly. "Feel good? Stop with the sappy lines, you sound like a greeting card. I don’t need your pity hugs or your ’I’m sorry’ bullshit, Ohm. I’m not some broken kid who needs fixing. I’m the one who’s supposed to be teaching you, remember? Lesson one : alphas don’t get all cuddly and concerned mid-sex, they just fuck and move on." But my voice wobbled on the last word and I could feel my eyes stinging again, damn it, so I buried my face in his neck to hide it, muttering against his skin. "Just... hold me for a minute."

He didn’t let go. His hand rubbed slow circles on my back, right over my shirt where the tattoo was hidden, and it should’ve felt awful but it didn’t, it felt safe in this stupid way that made my throat tight. "I’m not pitying you. I like you, Ye Jun. Like, a lot. The real you, as my best friend of course, even when you’re being a sarcastic asshole who tries to sneak around or whatever the hell you were thinking about doing in there. I heard the floor creak earlier, you know. Thought maybe you were actually gonna bolt."

I jerked back, staring at him with my mouth open, and a laugh bubbled out before I could stop it, sharp and surprised. "You heard that? Oh my god, you big eavesdropping teddy, I was literally three steps down the hall and I came back. What the hell is wrong with me? I had the perfect escape plan and I chickened out like a loser." I was laughing harder now, the kind that shook my shoulders, but it cracked in the middle and turned into this ugly hiccup sound that made my eyes water for real. "See? This is why I suck at everything. I can’t even fuck my best friend right without turning it into a therapy session. "

Si Woo would laugh his ass off if he knew I was in here crying over his stupid name on my skin while some other guy’s being all nice to me.

Ohm’s arms tightened around me, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head like I was something fragile, and his voice went all soft and rumbly. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be tough all the time."

I shoved at him again but there wasn’t any force behind it, and then I was full-on crying against his shoulder, the kind where my face got all snotty and my breathing hitched like I’d run a marathon, because laughing that hard and then crashing into the sad felt like whiplash. "God, I hate you for being like this," I mumbled, voice muffled and wet. "You’re supposed to be the clueless alpha who just wants practice for his omega fan club, not this... this whatever you are, don’t let go right now because if you do I might actually try the window again and break my neck this time."

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine, and he kissed the top of my head like it was the most normal thing. "I’m not hating you. And I’m definitely not letting go. We can stay like this all night if you want. No sex, no lessons, just... us. You and me. The sarcastic one and the clueless one. Deal?"

I sniffed hard, wiping my face on his shoulder because why not at this point, and I muttered, "Deal, but only if you stop being so damn nice or I’m gonna throw up from how cheesy it is. And pass me my pants, idiot, because cuddling naked feels too vulnerable even for me right now."

He reached over without letting me go, grabbed my jeans from the floor, and helped me shimmy into them one leg at a time while I stayed plastered to his chest, still half-laughing through the tears because the whole thing was ridiculous. Me, the guy who’d planned this whole revenge hookup, ending up in oversized sweatpants he tossed me from his drawer, curled up against him like some clingy mess while he rubbed my back and didn’t ask any more questions.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever, me rambling on and off about nothing and everything, snapping at him every time he got too sweet but not pulling away, and him just listening with these little hums that made my chest ache in the best worst way. "You know what’s funny?" I said at one point, voice still thick. "I spent the whole time in there thinking about you. Life’s a joke, Ohm. A stupid, mean joke."

He squeezed me tighter, chin on my head. "Not a joke to me. The rest is just noise."

I didn’t answer right away, just buried my face deeper because my eyes were stinging again and I didn’t want him to see. But I nodded against his chest, walls cracking a little more even though I was still fighting it tooth and nail inside my head. We weren’t fucking, we weren’t running, we were just tangled up half-dressed on his stupid big bed, talking over each other every few minutes me insulting him for being too nice, him laughing and calling me out for being a dramatic escape artist and somehow it felt like the most honest thing I’d done in months. I still had the tattoo. I still had the guilt. But right then, with Ohm’s arms around me and his stupid minty breath in my hair, I didn’t bolt. I stayed. And that scared the shit out of me more than anything.