"Oh, I shouldn't."

When Seonghwa batted his lashes in disappointment, Hongjoong shyly beckoned around them.

"I couldn't dishonour the late owner of this place like that. But may I suggest you keep it as a memento for Mister May? You could prop it next to a picture of his and offer it to his spirit." Nervously, Hongjoong shoved his palms under his thighs. Seonghwa's intense stare made him bashful.

Hongjoong couldn't get drunk here. He had to focus on his job and gather information. Seonghwa was distracting enough, and his magnetic smiles assisted his seductive outfit. 

When Hongjoong persisted and didn't take back his words, Seonghwa leaned back into the cushions.

"It's precious wine, you are right," he sighed. "Thank you for your virtue. My mind is often astray these days."

"It's fine," Hongjoong breathed, relieved he wasn't pressured. He wasn't sure if he could resist the beauty with his elegant, long gams that crossed over each other if he pleaded more.

Instead of wine, Seonghwa poured Hongjoong another cup of tea. He added in sugar as he had seen Hongjoong do earlier and pushed it over with a mild smile. Grateful, Hongjoong took a sip.

"Your pain is still fresh. I heard how common it is to search diversions in grief," Hongjoong offered his understanding and Seonghwa hummed. His gloves mindlessly caressed over his knee, and Hongjoong had to avert his eyes. He wasn't allowed to think of these fingers in other places, tickling idly. 

"Serving visitors distracts my haunted mind. Our meeting must have been fated." They toasted their cups together and Hongjoong took a cautious sip of the perfectly balanced brew. Seonghwa was well aware of his beauty and his effect on Hongjoong. Bringing him flowers had been an invitation to bring them closer. 

"I'm elated to help," Hongjoong stammered. He peered at the windows, but the day hadn't progressed far enough yet that he could excuse himself. 

His nervosity must have shown because Seonghwa chuckled richly. His throat bobbed against his choker with his sip of Earl Grey. 

"Thank you for being such a darling. I appreciate it." A graceful hand reached over to squeeze Hongjoong's knee, but it didn't leave. Hongjoong stiffened when it rested there, transferring heat, and soon, Seonghwa's purposeful eyes on Hongjoong had him flush.

Where were all his questions? His interview? Trying to lure Seonghwa from his lair? Somehow, Hongjoong was the shy one left.

"I would like to convey my gratitude for your support, back at the graveyard and now. You helped me tremendously," Seonghwa purred and his cup rested on the table when he scooted over to sit next to the detective. His gorgeous body pressed to Hongjoong's side, sharing a feel for his long limbs. The velvet of his dress was tantalising to the touch and Hongjoong squirmed in his seat. Seonghwa was so close, shrouding Hongjoong in his delicious scent. Shy to peer over into the low plunge of his dress, Hongjoong pursed his lips and clutched his hand to his knee for dear life.

"I... That's really not necessary," he rasped and cleared his throat right after, awkward. Another giggle. Seonghwa found him adorable, like one would be endeared by a small furry animal. 

"Oh, please. Just sit back and relax. I know just the thing for someone like you," Seonghwa hummed. Before Hongjoong could inquire, the vamp elegantly slipped onto the ground before him. Cushioned by the carpets, he braced his gloved hands against Hongjoong's thighs and gently nudged them apart to have space.

So stunning, he peered up at Hongjoong through his lashes. The dress hugged his body and the dark glint in his gaze was full of promises. 

Mind blank, Hongjoong gulped. His body reacted out of its own will, so he clasped his fingers over his lap, hiding his shameful response away. Mortified heat rushed into his cheeks.

Seonghwa laughed richly. When he leaned his soft head against Hongjoong's leg, he was a demon sent to reap Hongjoong's sanity. 

"This is fine, isn't it? Your body wants it."

"I-I-" Hongjoong stuttered, but nimble fingers already pried his slack hands off and knocked them away. The tip of a tongue swiped over red lips at the sight of the forming bulge and if Hongjoong had any marbles left since entering the wolf's lair, they left him at that point.

When he didn't push Seonghwa away, the widow regarded that as his invitation.

"You don't have to be afraid. Is this the first time someone touches you?" Gloved fingers crept over Hongjoong's middle and palmed over his shape, tracing its outline against his pants. Hongjoong already strained embarrassingly and his body trembled against the cushions in excitement and fear.

At his meek nod, Seonghwa shuffled closer. He unzipped Hongjoong's pants and bunched his shirt up his stomach. A moment later, his arousal sprang free before the widow's watchful eyes.

Hongjoong bit the inside of his cheek when Seonghwa scrutinised him. He was afraid of not being enough, or having an unattractive shape, or being not properly groomed or cleaned. Seonghwa must have glimpsed much prettier, no? 

But the widow reached for him nonetheless and gloved fingers wrapped around Hongjoong snugly. When his breath stuttered in his chest, Seonghwa snickered at him from below. The graceful line of his dress granted a view of his collarbones and the soft curve of his chest. 

Black-clad fingers oozed their heat through the fabric. When a pearly drop peered from Hongjoong's slit, Seonghwa swiped through it, playing with the wetness leaking from Hongjoong.

"So lively, aren't you? Do you know your preferences?" 

Hongjoong might like anything. He liked whatever grip Seonghwa had on him, whichever speed he tugged on his skin. He liked the feeling of his index tapping on his tip and he liked any spot Seonghwa tickled in.

"N-No..." He brought out, fingers digging into the cushions. He kept still, even when his body wanted to launch in agitation at his pleasure. If he didn't behave, Seonghwa might pull away and leave him yearning alone, so the detective did his utmost to relish this.

All prior purposes and manner were far from his mind now. 

"Don't worry. You are in excellent hands." Seonghwa's chuckle was deep and so smooth. Poor Hongjoong had to brace himself when the beautiful widow leaned in and his free hand tucked his hair behind his ear. When his hand braced on Hongjoong's thigh afterwards, it squeezed the quivering muscle.

Red lips parted for a hot breath that fanned over Hongjoong's sensitive flesh. He whimpered, unable to take his eyes off as Seonghwa's tongue dipped from his mouth for a taste. The feeling of the wet muscle caressing along Hongjoong's throbbing shaft was heavenly. Tingling and twitching, Hongjoong leaked more fluid, as if to complement the idle caress. With a hum, Seonghwa lapped it up, getting a first taste of him.

"Mhm, tasting so good, darling," he hummed as he laved his tongue over the bottom of Hongjoong, caressing the taunt skin and veins peeking through. Hongjoong lifted a hand to his lips, stifling his gasp when Seonghwa dipped lower, kissing at Hongjoong's nuts and closing his mouth to suck on them. 

Despite this morbid setting of the house of Seonghwa's dead (presumably murdered) spouse, Hongjoong couldn't help himself. His eyes rolled back, and a moan knocked into his fingers to pry its way through. He whimpered when Seonghwa left a trail of kisses up his side. Restless legs shuffled and squirmed.

"Take your time," Seonghwa advised as his hand angled Hongjoong once more to kiss at his tip. "Relish this."

He made eye contact through the teary haze of Hongjoong's vision. Then, his lips parted to allow Hongjoong's tip inside his mouth.

"Bloody hell," Hongjoong gasped out. His hands flinched over to Seonghwa's hair, but he thought better of it and dropped them back by his side. He pinched himself, but this was really happening. The exquisite widow knelt between his legs in a beautiful dress, red lips stretched around his much younger plonker. His long, dark lashes fluttered over his high cheekbones as his tongue seemed to lure Hongjoong deeper, slowly sinking down.

Every centimetre more that disappeared into this skilled mouth knocked Hongjoong further into insanity. He felt he might combust and his body was feverish at the sudden temperature change. As he alternated between tensing his stomach to hold back and groaning as the heat was too good, Seonghwa sucked on him lightly. He kept his hands off, holding open Hongjoong's twitching thighs with them, and his lips meant insanity. Experience showed in his age, and the poor virgin under his fingers disintegrated at the seams.

A choked-up moan gargled from Hongjoong's throat when Seonghwa elegantly bowed his head and took him entirely. He didn't choke, just tightened the narrow channel of his cheeks and throat, laving his tongue wherever it could reach.

Hongjoong trembled. He was so close, but he didn't want to come just yet. Wanted to appreciate this view as Seonghwa pulled back with lidded eyes, caressing his plush lips over Hongjoong's skin, so he felt them at every bit of him. 

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong gasped out, squirming when he couldn't buck, couldn't pull Seonghwa down on him to do that again and enclose him in his fluttering throat.

A single look was his reply. So heady and full of seduction. Hongjoong stilled with all his might, and Seonghwa rewarded him by dipping back down.

When his throat bobbed against the gathering salvia and fluid dripping from Hongjoong, the detective lost it. He scrambled against the divan in a desperate attempt to pull away when the heat in his stomach pooled through its outlet.

Seonghwa pulled off him in time so he didn't get any into his mouth, but his face was still close when Hongjoong erupted. A moment later, alabaster skin and vampire-red lips were stained with streaks of white. A drop caught onto his lashes and Seonghwa pinched that eye shut, cautious not to hurt himself.

Though Hongjoong was somewhere afloat and couldn't feel his arms and legs, he scrambled forward, mortified.

"I'm so sorry," he stuttered with his lame tongue. It was embarrassing to come so soon, but Seonghwa seemed amused enough not to mind. He threw Hongjoong a grin when the detective scrambled to retrieve his handkerchief and dabbed clumsily over the spots. A moment later, Seonghwa took it from him to wipe himself properly. In the meantime, Hongjoong shyly buckled himself away. The tingle of Seonghwa's mouth on him lingered.

Once Seonghwa was free of all incriminating liquids, he twisted his body to pour Hongjoong more tea. Needing it, he chugged it like alcohol and the widow giggled as he lifted back onto the chesterfield. Somehow, Hongjoong couldn't look at him but he might be obsessed with this beauty, his appeal and his grace.

"Did you feel good?" Seonghwa teased as if the answer wasn't clear. When Hongjoong blushed and nodded rapidly, the widow pushed the baked rolls closer.

"Strengthen yourself. And don't collapse from trembling so much," he cooed as if Hongjoong were his child to tend to.

And hell, Hongjoong might have to be. Might have to worship this man and his elegant age that came with such confidence and allure. Might suckle on that chest that pushed into the tight bodice so enticingly.

Going mad, Hongjoong finished his tea. Once more, he gained the awareness to glance at the windows and the sun dipped low behind the houses. Its rays bathed the fields in a rich orange and if Hongjoong were any smoother, he would have asked Seonghwa to look at the sunset with him.

But he was confused and forgot anything that wasn't the lovely widow and his smiling lips. So, soon, Seonghwa stood and Hongjoong automatically followed along to dress in his coat.

At the door, Seonghwa bent to kiss his cheek. Hongjoong flushed a fiery red at the gesture, throbbing again, and wanted to scream his joy into the mountains. He desperately had to catch his breath before dealing with Seonghwa another time.

"Thank you for sweetening the time of a lonely widow. I will surely see you again," the widow hummed, and he leaned in the doorway when Hongjoong ambled down the stairs with soft legs. He shyly waved back at Seonghwa and the widow disappeared back into the shadows of his desolate home, sated after a long time of dealing with tasteless old fiddles.

Go to chapter 23