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the keycard clicked. the lock light flickered green.

you pushed the hotel room door open with your hip, one hand still tangled in jeongguk’s hair. his mouth was on your neck before the door even swung shut behind them. his breath was hot, unsteady, not the calculated rhythm of an agent undercover, but something rawer.

“camera,” you breathed.

he pulled back just enough for his eyes to meet yours. dark. focused. a single bead of sweat traced a path from his temple to his jaw. “sweep’s done. we’re clean.”

your fingers tightened in his hair. “check again.”

a beat of silence. his hands dropped from your waist. the loss of contact was a physical thing, your skin prickled where his palms had been, the silk of your dress suddenly too thin, too warm.

“paranoid,” he muttered, but he was already pulling out his phone, thumb swiping across the screen in quick, practiced motions.

you walked to the window. twenty-three floors below, the city sprawled in grids of amber and white light. somewhere in that neon maze, kang dae-jung was counting his money and sharpening his knives. three months of undercover work. three months of playing the devoted girlfriend to jeongguk’s ambitious security consultant. the persona had a name—yuna, a former flight attendant with expensive taste and a habit of laughing too loud at rich men’s jokes.

you hated yuna.

behind you, jeongguk’s voice was low. “room’s clean. no rf interference. no heat signatures through the walls.” a pause. “aera.”

he said your real name. you turned. he was standing by the bed now, phone discarded on the nightstand. the streetlight through the window caught the sharp angles of his face, the jawline that had gotten them into half the private parties in this city, the mouth that had convinced kang’s lieutenant they were just another couple drowning in luxury.

“we have four hours before the extraction team moves into position,” she said. “we should go over the floor plans again.”

“we’ve gone over them twelve times.”

“then thirteen.”

his jaw tightened. “you’ve been avoiding looking at me directly for the past six hours. what happened at the gala?”

a muscle in your thigh twitched. you locked your knees. “nothing happened.”

“when kang put his hand on your back—"

“i handled it.”

“—you flinched.” jeongguk took a step toward her. “yuna doesn’t flinch. yuna leans into that kind of attention. you almost blew three months of work because you couldn’t—”

“i flinched because you were staring.” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. sharp. accusing. “you were staring at kang’s hand on me like you wanted to break every bone in his fingers. not like a partner watching my back. like something else.”

the room held its breath. jeongguk’s expression flickered, a crack in the careful mask he’d worn since the day they’d been assigned together. “you’re imagining things.”

“i’m a trained observer.” you crossed her arms. “and you’ve been compromised.”

he laughed. a single, humorless sound. “compromised.”

“you’re too close to this. to me.”

“we’re pretending to be a couple. we’re supposed to be close.”

“there’s supposed and there’s whatever this is.”

he moved then, not fast, but deliberate. two steps closed the distance between them. the warmth of his body reached yours before his hands did. you tilted your chin up to hold his gaze.

“you want to know what this is?” his voice had dropped, roughened at the edges. “three months of sharing a bed and pretending to sleep. three months of your perfume on my shirt and your laugh in my ear while i smile at men who deserve a bullet. three months of watching you become someone else every morning and watching her fall away every night the second the door closes.”

her pulse was hammering at the base of her throat.

“we made a deal,” you managed. “keep it professional.”

“you brought up the flinch.”

“because it’s a liability.”

“is that what you think i am?”

his hand lifted. hesitated. then his knuckles grazed your cheekbone, just a whisper of contact, and your breath caught. you could feel the calluses on his fingers from range practice, the slight tremor that had nothing to do with fear.

“you’re the best agent i’ve ever worked with,” he said quietly. “and the worst thing that’s happened to my focus in years. both things are true. both things are going to get us killed if we don’t—”

you kissed him.

the decision bypassed her brain entirely. one moment you was standing there with your arms crossed and your arguments lined up like bullets in a magazine. the next, your mouth was on his and your fingers were gripping the front of his shirt and you were pulling him towards you with a desperation that felt like falling.

he made a sound against your lips—hunger—and then his hands were in your hair and his body was pressing you backward until your shoulders hit the window.

the glass was cold through the thin silk. he was not. “aera.” your name came out ragged, half-buried in the curve of your neck. “tell me to stop.”

you didn’t.

your fingers found the buttons of his shirt. fumbled. the third one down popped loose and your palm slid against the bare skin of his chest. heat. muscle. the frantic rhythm of his heart under your hand.

his mouth traveled down your throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin above your collarbone. a sound escaped you—small, involuntary, nothing like yuna’s practiced giggles.

“is this still a liability?” he murmured against your skin.

“shut up.”

“yes ma’am.”

his hands found the zipper at the back of your dress. pulled. the silk loosened, slid, and then the dress was pooling at your feet and you were standing in nothing but black lace and the glow of the city skyline.

he stepped back. just an inch. just enough to look at you.

“jesus,” he breathed.

the way he said it—reverent, wrecked—sent heat cascading down your spine. you reached for him, but he caught your wrists.

“wait.” your body protested. every nerve ending was screaming for contact. but you waited.

“we’re doing this,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. “but i need you to know— right now, this room, this isn’t the assignment. this isn’t kang or the mission or any of it. this is you and me. just us. if you can’t give me that, tell me now.”

his grip on your wrists was gentle but unyielding. his eyes were the color of strong coffee, and just as bracing.

you twisted her hands free, not breaking his hold, but reversing it. now you were the one gripping his wrists. now you were the one pulling him closer.

“you’ve had me compromised since week two,” you said. “when you memorised how i take my coffee and started leaving a cup on my nightstand every morning before i woke up.”

something shifted in his expression. softened.

then he was kissing you again, and there was no hesitation this time. his hands mapped the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips, the dip of your lower back. you pulled his shirt off his shoulders, let it fall, traced the lines of ink that curved over his ribs—a design you've seen a hundred times in surveillance stills and never once touched.

touching it now felt like breaking a rule.

she wanted to break more.

he walked you backward. the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees. you sat, pulled him down with you. the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around his waist like you'd been doing it for years instead of hours of choreographed public displays.

his mouth found the hollow behind your ear. “you make this sound,” he said, voice barely audible, “when something actually feels good. not the yuna sound. the real one. i’ve been trying to hear it for weeks.”

“creep.”

“observant.”

you laughed—a genuine, surprised laugh—and he swallowed it with a kiss.

your hands moved to his belt. the leather was stiff, the buckle complicated. you fumbled. he paused. looked down at you. “you do this a lot undercover?”

“shut up.”

“because your technique—”

you got the buckle open. his smirk vanished. you tugged the belt free, popped the button of his trousers, and slid your hand inside. he inhaled sharply, his hips jerking forward into your touch. the fabric of his boxer briefs was damp.

you looked up at him through her lashes. “you were saying?”

in answer, he reached behind your and unclasped your bra. one hand slid the strap down your shoulder. then the other. then he was lowering his head and his mouth was on your breast and your back arched off the mattress.

there. that sound he’d mentioned. the real one. it escaped her throat before she could stop it. he made a noise of approval against your skin and did it again.

your fingers dug into his shoulders. the world narrowed to the wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the way his hips ground against yours in a rhythm that was far from practiced. there was no choreography here. no marks to hit, no cameras to play to.

just his body and yours and four hours of borrowed time.

he pulled back just long enough to shove his trousers and briefs down, kick them off. you almost let out a gasp, "jesus… you're big."

"you think?" he murmured, voice rough with nerves and pride, half-smiling against her lips before kissing her again. it wasn't like he’d ever measured himself or compared… but hearing it from you? made his chest swell.

your hand hovered for a second, like you wanted to touch but weren't sure if you should yet. jeongukk caught it gently, pressing your palm flat against his stomach instead of where you both really wanted it… giving them you to adjust.

still holding your hand, he guided it lower—slowly… giving you time to pull away if you wanted. you didn’t. instead, your fingers finally curled around him. jeongguk sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the contact.

you started with slow strokes, curious more than confident, and each glide sent sparks through his nerves his breathing turned uneven, lips parting as quiet sounds escaped him without meaning to. a small whimper here… a shaky exhale there. it was overwhelming in the best way possible—the intimacy of it all hitting harder than anything physical could have.

jeongguk's hips twitched involuntarily when your thumb brushed over the wetness at his tip—a quiet, precum-coated evidence of how ready he was for you.

he hadn’t even realised it had happened… too focused on your touch. but now that you noticed? his embarrassment flared—face heating up instantly.

you didn’t tease him though. instead, your thumb swiped gently through the moisture, spreading it slightly before continuing to stroke with more deliberate pressure this time.

jeongguk bit his lip—hard—to keep from making another embarrassing noise… but failed miserably when your squeezed just right.

the sound that slipped out of jungkook was embarrassingly high—almost a whine—as your grip tightened just right. his hips jerked forward slightly, chasing your hand without thinking.

he was so sensitive… every stroke, every brush of skin made him twitch and tremble like it was too much—but also not enough.

you noticed, your eyes flickering up to watch his reactions—the way his jaw clenched, how he bit his lip to stay quiet.

you slowed down… teasing now. torturing him with feather-light strokes that drove him crazy but didn’t give relief.

you pull your hand away and hook your thumb on your panties, slowly sliding them down. jeongukk couldn't keep his eyes off of you. he slowly got onto his knees, making eye contact through his lashes, asking you for permission to let him taste you.

once you gave him the look, he kissed your inner thigh first. soft, teasing, then moved inward, his tongue parting you with one slow, deliberate stroke. you cried out, your hips bucking against his face. jeongguk groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your clit. he licked again, slower this time, savoring the taste of you. his tongue circled your entrance, dipping inside just enough to make you whimper, then sliding up to focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top.

"fuckk jeongguk—" you moaned, hands gripping his hair. he didn't answer with words. he answered with action, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently while his finger pressed inside you. one finger, then two, curling to find that spot that made your vision blur. his tongue kept working, relentless, alternating between broad flat strokes and quick flicks that had you gripping his hair, pulling him closer.

"don't stop," you cried out. he didn't. he kept his pace slow, torturous, drawing out every moan, every gasp. his tongue circled your clit in lazy loops while his fingers pumped in and out, building you up without letting you fall. he wanted you to remember this. wanted you to feel every second.

he breathing grew ragged, your hips grinding against his face. "i'm close," you gasped. "i'm so close." it was almost embarrassing how fast he made you cum. 

he pulled his mouth away, and you whimpered at the loss. but his fingers kept moving, curling harder, faster.

"not yet," he said, voice hoarse. he kissed his way back up your body, leaving a trail of wet heat across your stomach, your breasts, your throat. "i want to feel you cum around me."

he gave his cock a few strokes, coating it with his precum. the first press of him against your entrance made them you freeze.

condom. you should say something about a condom. the thought floated through your mind, distant and irrelevant. they’d both been tested. they’d both been—

“i’m clean,” he said, reading your mind. “and i’m not going to—”

“i know.” your voice was steadier than you felt. “i trust you.”

the words landed heavier than you'd intended. trust, in their line of work, was a currency more valuable than information. more dangerous than any weapon.

he held your gaze. asked one more time with his eyes: "you sure?" you didn’t answer with words—you just kissed him harder, your legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down. that was all the confirmation jeongguk needed.

with a slow, careful push, he slid into you—eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming sensation. warm… tight… perfect. better than anything he’d imagined.

you gasped against his lips—but not from pain. more like surprise at how full you felt… then quiet pleasure as they adjusted together.

"oh fuck," you let out the whiniest moan he'd ever hear. jeongguk echoed you exactly—"oh fuck"—under his breath the second he was fully sheathed inside you. it felt too good… overwhelming in a way that made his vision blur for a second.

he stayed still, forehead pressed to yours as they both breathed through the intensity of it. your fingers dug into his back slightly, your body slowly relaxing around him, getting used to the stretch.

"fuck— you're so big, gguk," you moan. jeongguk's heart squeezed at the nickname—"gguk." it made him melt, and also swell with pride (in more ways than one). "you like that?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick as he rocked into you again—deeper this time, still slow but building.

you nodded, your lips parting around a breathy moan. you weren't lying either; his size definitely filled you completely… stretching just right without hurting.

jungkook kissed down your jaw, cheeks flushed from pleasure and affection for you.

he leaned down, his lips brushing your ears as he spoke, "you feel so damn good around me," he growled, "so tight… like you were made for this."

then he nipped her earlobe before adding, "wanna make you scream my name… wanna fucking ruin you." you gasped at his filthy words. "oh shit!"

and then? jeongguk picked up the pace—harder thrusts, chasing that promise in his words. he grinned at your "oh shit." he loved that reaction. loved knowing he was wrecking you with every deep thrust. "that’s it," he murmured against your neck, "let me hear you…"

then his hand slid between you, finding where you were connected and pressing a thumb right over your sensitive clit—rubbing in slow circles while still pounding into you.

you cried out this time—a louder sound than before—as pleasure spiked through every nerve. jungkook watched with hooded eyes… addicted to how you looked like this because of him.

his mouth crashed onto yours again—messy, biting kisses as he pounded into you with zero restraint now. his voice dropped to a filthy whisper right against your ear: "gonna make you cum so hard… wanna feel you squeeze me while i fuck you."

then his free hand gripped your thigh, hiking it higher around his waist to change the angle—going even deeper. you let out a pornographic moan, your nails scraping down jungkook’s back as pleasure spiked through every nerve. you was close… so damn close… and he wasn't stopping until you shattered.

“look at me,” he said. you did. his eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, but focused entirely on your face. watching. cataloging every flicker of pleasure, every gasp, every clench of your jaw.

he wanted to see your fall apart. the realisation sent a shock of heat straight through your core. “jeongguk.” his name cracked on your tongue.

“i know.” his hand slid between your bodies, found the slick heat of your clit, rubbing circles. “i’ve got you. let go.”

you shattered. your back bowed. your thighs clamped around his hips. a cry tore out of you—loud, unguarded, nothing like the controlled sounds you'd trained herself to make.

"uh—shit— i'm gonna.. where do you want it?" he pants. "inside. i'm on birth control." you quickly reply. as soon as you finish your sentence, he cums inside you. his groan muffled against your shoulder as he pulsed inside you. eventually, he slowly pulls out, watching your releases leak from your pussy. "fuck.." he pants heavily.

you lay there, tangled and shaking, as the city hummed twenty-three floors below. his breath was hot on your neck. your fingers traced lazy patterns on his shoulder blade.

“we should—” you started.

“don’t,” he said. “don’t make this into strategy. not yet.”

you closed her mouth. three minutes. then five. then his phone buzzed on the nightstand. instinct snapped you them both upright. he grabbed it, scanned the screen. his expression shifted.

“what?” you were already reaching for your clothes.

“extraction’s been moved up.” he looked at you, and the agent was back in his eyes. but underneath it, something else flickered. “kang’s men just pulled up outside the hotel.”

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