Han sighed, rubbing his temples. "That's what you took from all that?"
Jet shrugged. "I mean… it is a pretty big deal."
Han groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "Forget it. Hopefully, the announcement won't ruin my reputation."
Jet nodded, but as Han closed his eyes, he muttered under his breath—
"I still can't believe your mom is on drugs."
Han threw a pillow at him.
Jet smacked the pillow away, dodging it. "Sorry! Couldn't help myself. But… how is she not in jail?"
Han exhaled sharply. "She has her ways. Bribing the police, making evidence disappear. My father wanted to divorce her when I was young, but she threatened to kill me if he did. So, he stayed."
Jet froze. "Bribing? Threatening?"
Han nodded. "She's crazy. Once, she choked me, and my dad had to beg her to let me go. My childhood was a nightmare."
Jet had a hundred questions, but before he could ask even one, Han shifted the conversation. "Anyway, about the announcement—I already informed my company. I need you there with me."
Jet hesitated. "If you say so…"
Han squeezed his hands. "Trust me."
—
"Th-this is the w-wrong kind of trus–ahh!" Jet moaned as Han thrust into him.
Han chuckled lowly. "You said yes when I asked. Just once, to get rid of my stage fright for the next two days."
Jet clawed at the sheets, shivering. The air was thick with their pheromones, intoxicating—pulling them deeper into their instincts.
Han paused, giving Jet a moment to breathe, but Jet wasn't done. He needed more.
"M-might as well mark me, Han," Jet panted, turning his neck to expose the soft skin beneath.
Han froze, his breath hitching. His grip on Jet's hips tightened.
"Jet… you know if I bite too deep, it'll be permanent."
"I—I can't hold it m-much longer," Jet whimpered.
Han scoffed, pushing deeper. "Yes, you can. This isn't your first time."
Jet bit his lip. If words wouldn't convince Han, he'd have to try something else. Slowly, he tilted his neck toward him, letting Han's breath ghost over his skin.
Jet trembled, his body already anticipating the bite. He wanted it—needed it.
Han hovered over him, his breath hot against Jet's skin. He hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to claim what was his. He could control himself—he had to—but Jet was making it impossible.
The way Jet tilted his neck, exposing the soft, unmarked skin, sent a rush of possessiveness through Han's veins. His grip tightened on Jet's hips, his fingers digging into flushed skin.
"Han…" Jet whispered, his voice trembling with need.
Han groaned, his restraint snapping.
The second his teeth sank in, Jet's breath hitched—a sharp gasp leaving his lips as pleasure flooded his senses. His body clenched around Han in response, the sudden squeeze pulling a guttural growl from deep in Han's chest.
Then, something shifted.
Heat coiled low in Han's stomach, a powerful pulse surging through him. His body reacted instinctively, pressing Jet close as he slowly pulled back, his teeth leaving a deep imprint on Jet's neck.
Jet, still catching his breath, barely registered what was happening—until he felt it.
A slow, growing pressure inside him.
His eyes widened as Han thickened, stretching him even further. "H-Han—ahh!"
Han cursed, his forehead pressing against Jet's back as his knot swelled, locking them together. "Shit—hold still."
Jet whimpered, his body quivering. He was already filled to the brim, but now? He could feel every inch of Han stretching him, sealing them together with no way out.
Each subtle movement sent shocks of pleasure through him. His walls instinctively clenched, trying to accommodate the size, and Han felt it.
A deep groan tore from Han's throat as his hips jerked forward involuntarily. His knot had fully formed, leaving Jet utterly at his mercy.
The warmth spread between them, thick and heavy. Jet shuddered, his entire body trembling as he tried to process the overwhelming sensation.
Too much. Too deep. Too good.
His head spun, pleasure bordering on pain, his breath coming in short, shaky gasps. His fingers clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as Han's knot pulsed inside him, releasing everything deep within.
The last thing Jet felt was Han's strong arms tightening around him before his vision blurred—his body giving in to the sheer intensity.
Then, everything faded to black.
—
"Jet, Jet…" Han tapped his cheek softly, whispering his name.
Jet turned to him, eyes half-lidded and damp with exhaustion.
"They're here," Han murmured. "Can you move?"
Jet blinked, confused. "Who's—?"
"My mother."
That woke him up.
Han wrapped a blanket tightly around Jet and carefully lifted him into his arms. Jet leaned against him, still dazed. The stairs creaked under Han's steps as he carried him to the bathroom, then gently set him into the bathtub.
"They can't know you're here," Han said firmly, brushing a kiss on Jet's forehead before backing away. "Stay quiet. I'll handle this."
Jet nodded weakly as Han left, quickly changing into a fresh set of clothes. He checked himself over—no scent, no marks—before heading downstairs and opening the door.
Mrs. Yau stepped in with her usual forced smile. Mr. Yau followed behind, quieter.
"Han, how are you?" she said sweetly. "I heard you're giving a speech soon. About those nasty little rumors?"
Han gave a tight nod. "Thought it was finally time to speak up."
They moved to the couch, making themselves at home. Mrs. Yau looked around, lips pursed. "No cleaners today? Place feels quiet."
Mr Yau looked around the living room, the coffee table, the TV stand was gone. "Even your furniture is going missing."
"Throwing out some things, and one's sick and the other's about to be wed. The house will be empty soon," Han replied coolly.
Mrs. Yau laughed. "No, no, not for long. Once you say yes to one of the people I've chosen, this place will be filled with laughter." Her phone buzzed. "Look! Another match!"
Han rolled his eyes and glanced at his father, who looked as if he wanted to disappear.
"Seen Victor lately?" Han asked casually, heading to the kitchen.
Mrs. Yau's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Victor? No, haven't seen him much."
Han poured water and returned. "So? This a social visit or are you here to push another date?"
"Well…" she said with a smug grin. "You mentioned your ex-boyfriend. So I thought, why not adjust your preference? Your next date is with… Victor!"
Han blinked slowly. "Victor?" He gave a light, almost sarcastic chuckle. "I guess that's great. We're close, after all."
Mr. Yau turned to him, face tight, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Han met his gaze, stone-faced.
Mrs. Yau beamed. "Wonderful! I knew you'd come around."
He walked them to the door, thanking them for their time. The second the door clicked shut, Han locked it, waited a beat, then exhaled—deep and slow. He jogged upstairs, quiet but urgent.
The bathroom door was closed. Locked.
Inside, he could hear the soft splash of water running right as his parents left—Jet had overheard everything.
Han didn't knock. He just waited, settling onto the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Jet stepped out, wrapped in a towel. His face was blank—no visible anger, no trace of tears. Just stillness.
He walked past Han without a word, heading straight to the closet.
Han stood. "Did you hear it all?"
Jet nodded once, back turned.
"Are you mad?"
Jet paused, hand tightening slightly on a shirt hanger. Then, slowly, he turned and looked at Han—calm, unreadable.
"I have no words," Jet said quietly. "But for you… I'll tolerate it. Just make sure your speech—two days from now—you don't miss it. Don't let me down."
His voice didn't crack, but Han felt every word like it was etched onto his skin.
"I won't," Han whispered, stepping closer.
He gently reached for Jet's hand, bringing it to his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed into the warmth, as if grounding himself.
"I'll fix everything," Han murmured. "I swear it."
Jet didn't pull away. He didn't say anything either. But he let his thumb brush over Han's cheekbone. Just once.
And that was enough for now.