"Do you know how the name Seraphim came about?" His voice was rich with amusement, yet edged with something darker—something that slithered beneath the surface like an unseen predator waiting to strike. He reached for the bottle again, pouring himself another drink, the soft clink of glass against glass breaking the silence.
"Centuries ago, it was believed that the highest order of angels—the Seraphim—burned with such divine intensity that even they could not look upon themselves without being consumed by their own fire." Caesar's lips curled into a smirk as he took another slow sip, his dark eyes never leaving Eun-jae. "A paradox, isn't it? The holiest of beings... and yet, they are nothing but flames."
He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching for Eun-jae's reaction.
"You see, power is a funny thing," he continued, voice dipping into something almost hypnotic. "Everyone wants it. Craves it. But very few understand that true power isn't about possessing it. It's about knowing how to wield it—how to control it without being swallowed whole." His fingers traced the rim of his glass absentmindedly. "Because, in the end, what is an all-consuming flame if not a self-made executioner?"
Eun-jae's breathing was uneven. He didn't know whether to believe Caesar was simply toying with him or if there was an actual meaning beneath the madness.
Caesar chuckled, as if reading his thoughts. "Oh, don't look so lost, sweetheart. I know you want answers. But answers aren't given—they're earned." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the glass now dangling from his fingertips. "And you? You've been asking the wrong questions all along."
Eun-jae stiffened.
Caesar smirked. "You think Seraphim is a weapon? A secret project? A key to some ultimate power?" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "How naïve."
He lifted his hand, gesturing lazily as he spoke.
"Tell me, do you know the legend of Icarus?"
Eun-jae remained silent, but his fingers twitched.
Caesar smiled at that. "Ah, you do, don't you? The foolish boy who tried to soar too close to the sun, only to have his wings melt and send him plummeting into the abyss." He leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms along the backrest, his posture relaxed—almost lazy. "A tragic tale, really. But what everyone seems to forget is that the sun never asked to be chased. It never invited Icarus to fly toward it."
His gaze sharpened, and for the first time, something cold and unreadable flickered across his face.
"Icarus wasn't a victim." His voice was quieter now, yet laced with something deadly. "He was warned."
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Eun-jae's pulse pounded in his ears.
Caesar took another sip of vodka before exhaling softly. "You see, little bird..." His fingers drummed against his glass. "Seraphim? It was never about creating power." He tilted his head. "It was about luring the fools who sought it."
Eun-jae's stomach dropped.
Caesar's smirk deepened. "And you? You flew straight into the fire without even realizing whose hands were guiding the wind beneath your wings."
He set his glass down with a soft clink, then reached out, gripping Eun-jae's chin between his fingers, tilting his face up so their eyes locked.
"So tell me, little Icarus..." His voice was barely a whisper now, taunting. "Did you really think you'd survive the fall?"
Caesar swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the way it clung to the sides before he took a slow sip, savoring the burn. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flickered with something almost amused as he leaned back into his chair.
"There's this old Russian fairy tale," he murmured, tilting his head as if recalling something distant, something half-forgotten. "It's about a prince—young, golden-haired, beloved by all. People knelt when he passed, whispered his name like a prayer, painted songs of his victories in the sky. He was everything a ruler should be. Righteous. Just. Merciful."
He let the word roll off his tongue, letting it hang in the air before chuckling softly. "Ah, but fairy tales... they never tell the whole story, do they?"
He leaned forward now, elbows resting on his knees, his glass dangling from his fingertips. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Because behind the palace walls, when the torches burned low and the world slept, the prince shed his skin. Not a man. A beast. Something grotesque, something ancient, something with teeth that could tear through flesh and a tongue that dripped with poison. He was no noble king-to-be. No, he was a Komodo dragon slithering through the halls, watching, waiting. Devouring."
He let out a low hum, as if tasting the weight of his own words.
"They say Komodo dragons don't kill their prey outright," he continued, voice dipping into something almost hypnotic. "They bite. One bite is all it takes. The venom seeps into the blood, slow, merciless. And then? The prey walks. They run. They think they've escaped."
A soft laugh.
"But the beast never rushes. No, it follows. Patient. Knowing. Because sooner or later, the poison does its work. The prey stumbles. Falls. And the dragon? The dragon only has to wait for the feast."
He exhaled, shaking his head slightly, as if the story was nothing more than an amusing anecdote. But his fingers tightened around the glass.
"Funny, isn't it?" His gaze lifted, locking onto his companion's. "How people worship princes and fear monsters, never realizing they are one and the same?"
Another sip of whiskey, another pause, another slow, deliberate smirk.
"You see, the fairy tale ends the way all fairy tales do. The prince is loved, adored, placed on his throne with a golden crown. The people cheer. The fools celebrate." He clicked his tongue. "And not a single one of them realizes they're already bleeding."
He set his glass down with a soft clink, eyes never leaving his companion's face.
"They don't realize that the beast never left." His voice was softer now, yet sharp enough to cut. "It simply learned to smile."
Caesar's weight pressed down on Eun-jae, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric between them. His breath, slow and deliberate, ghosted against the back of Eun-jae's neck as he chuckled—low, indulgent, savoring the way Eun-jae's body tensed beneath him.
"Inhale me, will you?" Eun-jae snarled through clenched teeth. "You reek of vodka and bad decisions. Get off, monster."
But Caesar did nothing of the sort. If anything, he settled in deeper, draping himself over Eun-jae's back like a second skin, arms caging him in, head tilted just enough to murmur directly into his ear.
"You say 'monster' like it's an insult," he murmured, his lips ghosting the shell of Eun-jae's ear, voice thick with amusement. "But tell me, little kitten, have you ever heard of this prince's treasure?"
His fingers tightened just slightly, a fleeting moment of control before he relaxed again, as if toying with the power he held over the body beneath him.
"They say he had it locked away deep within his palace," Caesar continued, voice dropping into something softer, something nearly hypnotic. "A treasure so coveted, so precious, that kings and warlords alike sent armies to claim it. They stormed his gates, set fire to his lands, cut down his men like wheat in the fields, all for a taste of something they could not even name."
His breath hitched with a soft chuckle as he nuzzled into the crook of Eun-jae's neck, the warmth of his exhale skimming his skin.
"But the fools never understood, did they?" he mused, fingers toying with the strands of Eun-jae's hair. "They thought it was gold. Or jewels. Perhaps a key to some forgotten power. And so they bled, and they burned, and they begged." He sighed, mockingly wistful. "Yet the treasure was never meant for them."
His lips curved into a smirk against Eun-jae's skin, his weight pressing down just enough to make the moment feel suffocating.
"The prince never locked it away to protect it," he whispered. "He locked it away to protect them."
Another pause. Another quiet chuckle, dark and indulgent.
"Because the treasure wasn't some lifeless relic," Caesar murmured, drawing out each word with an almost lazy kind of amusement. "It was a thing that breathed. That struggled. That screamed."
Eun-jae's blood turned to ice.
Caesar sighed as if bored, as if this story was nothing more than an old, well-worn fable. "And yet, no matter how many tried, no one ever managed to steal it. The walls of the palace remained tall. The gates never fell. The prince never lost."
His grip tightened, his fingers curling around Eun-jae's wrist, pinning him effortlessly.
"And do you know why?" he murmured.
Silence.
A slow, sickening smile.
"Because the treasure never left the prince's grasp."
He chuckled, warm and content, as if this were nothing more than idle pillow talk. "No matter how many tried, no matter how many thought they could take it from him, the truth remained the same." His breath was a whisper against Eun-jae's skin.
"It was always his."
Caesar's fingers trailed slow, lazy circles over Eun-jae's bare skin, his touch light, teasing, never quite settling. The warmth of his breath fanned over Eun-jae's nape, sending an involuntary shudder rippling down his spine.
"Stop…HAVENT YOU HAD ENOUGH!!!" Eun-jae's voice was hoarse, weak, barely above a whisper. His body was drained, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs, but his mind—his mind still fought. He clenched his teeth, forced himself to stay still, to not give this monster the satisfaction of a reaction.
Caesar chuckled, the sound deep, rich, dark with amusement, like this was nothing more than a game to him.
"Haven't I had enough?" His lips ghosted against the shell of Eun-jae's ear, voice thick with mockery. "My love, do I strike you as a man who knows restraint?"
Eun-jae's breath hitched as Caesar's hand trailed downward, slow, deliberate, every movement designed to taunt, to claim. His palm flattened against Eun-jae's abdomen, pressing down just enough to make him feel it—feel the dominance, the inevitability of his touch.
"Besides…" Caesar exhaled, voice dipping into something low, velvety, intoxicating. "I can't stop now. Not when your body is being so—" his fingers ghosted lower, curling just above his hardness, "—honest."
Eun-jae tensed, every muscle in his body locking up as Caesar wrapped his fingers around him. His breath caught in his throat, a strangled noise escaping against his will as Caesar stroked, slow, teasing, his grip firm but measured.
A sharp inhale. A trembling exhale. Eun-jae hated himself for it.
Hated the way his traitorous body responded. Hated the way pleasure coiled in his stomach, unwanted, undeniable.
"See?" Caesar murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the dip of Eun-jae's shoulder, his thumb gliding over the sensitive tip in a maddeningly slow motion. "You don't have to say anything. Your body speaks volumes."
Eun-jae's fingers dug into the sheets, white-knuckled, his breath coming out in stuttered pants. No. No, no, no. This wasn't—he wasn't—
Caesar's strokes quickened just slightly, not enough to overwhelm, but enough to drive him insane.
"Let me tell you a secret," he purred, dragging his lips down Eun-jae's spine before biting down lightly at the curve of his waist, just enough to sting. "Men lie. Their words, their actions, their promises—it's all deception. But the body?" He tightened his grip, eliciting another helpless, choked sound from Eun-jae's throat. "The body never lies."
Eun-jae trembled, rage and humiliation twisting inside him like a storm, threatening to drown him.
"Go to hell," he rasped, voice raw, barely holding back the tremor of fury.
Caesar only chuckled, deep and indulgent, like he had already won.
"Oh, my love," he murmured, his strokes slowing to an agonizing pace, dragging out every moment. His voice was laced with something almost affectionate, almost gentle.
Almost.
"We're already there."
Eun-jae barely had time to process what was happening before strong hands spread him open, exposing him to the cool air. His breath hitched, his entire body tensing, the sudden vulnerability sending a jolt of heat through his veins.
Then—warmth. Wetness. A slick, sinful stroke of something hot against his most sensitive spot.
Eun-jae choked on a gasp, his fingers clutching the sheets beneath him as his entire body jerked. A shiver of shock and something dangerously close to pleasure rippled through him.
Where the hell is he putting his face?! His mind screamed, but his body—his traitorous, burning-hot body—was already melting into the sensation, his thighs trembling as he tried to wiggle away.
"Stay still." Caesar's voice was deep, commanding, a low growl that sent a fresh wave of heat curling in Eun-jae's stomach. The grip on his waist tightened, fingers digging into his flesh, pinning him in place.
Eun-jae sucked in a sharp breath. "Nghh… A-Augh…" The sound that escaped him was embarrassingly needy, his body arching before he could stop himself. His head felt heavy, the room spinning as pleasure clouded his senses.
His lashes fluttered, his breaths turning ragged. Why does it feel so… so hot? My head… it's spinning…
Caesar hummed against his skin, the vibrations sending sparks of electricity shooting down Eun-jae's spine. He wasn't stopping. He was relentless—licking, teasing, devouring, as if he wanted to break him apart piece by piece.
Eun-jae's moans grew softer, breathier, his thighs quaking as something unbearable coiled tight inside him. The pleasure was too much, too intense, and he couldn't hold back the shuddering cry that tore from his lips as his body convulsed.
Then everything went still.
For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing—Eun-jae's own ragged pants mingling with the steady, controlled rhythm of Caesar's.
Then, a low chuckle.
Caesar pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he glanced down. A smirk played at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark with amusement.
"Wow…" His voice was teasing, yet laced with something far more dangerous. "Did you just come from licking your hole?"
Eun-jae shivered beneath him, his body still trembling, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His mind was blank, completely wrecked, yet that smirk on Caesar's face told him—this was far from over.
That son of a bitch…
Eun-jae's thoughts swirled in a dazed fog, heart pounding against his ribs. His body was already betraying him, his breaths uneven as heat coiled low in his stomach. Alexei was so desperate to have me… that bastard actually tried to inject me with an aphrodisiac. The realization sent a sharp wave of fury through him, but before he could process it fully, a deep chuckle echoed in his ear.
A dangerous chuckle.
"let me fuck your tight asshole," Caesar murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. His grip on Eun-jae's waist tightened, his fingers pressing into soft skin, holding him firmly in place. "I'll make you come from this alone."
Then—heat.
A suffocating, overpowering wave of pheromones filled the air, thick and intoxicating, sinking deep into Eun-jae's senses like a drug. His breath hitched, his muscles tensing as his vision blurred at the edges. His body reacted instantly, heat surging through his veins.
No. No, this isn't… His thoughts fractured as his lashes fluttered, a deep, bone-melting weakness creeping into his limbs.
And then—
THRUST.
"Gah—!" Eun-jae choked on a cry, his body arching, shaking from the force of it. His fingers clenched into the sheets, nails digging in as his mind went blank—wiped clean by the sheer intensity of sensation.
A low hum of satisfaction rumbled behind him.
"Hmm."
Caesar's blue eyes gleamed with something dark, something possessive as he watched the way Eun-jae trembled beneath him. He liked this—watching him struggle, watching him fall apart.
Without warning, fingers tangled in Eun-jae's long strands of hair, yanking his head back. A sharp gasp left his lips as his back arched, his body curving into the pull, helpless against the raw strength holding him in place.
"You should start moving that thick ass if you want to walk out of here alive," Caesar murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of Eun-jae's ear. His voice was low, commanding, dripping with dark amusement.
Eun-jae's breath shuddered, his entire body betraying him as the heat grew unbearable, pooling deep inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his pride screaming at him to fight back, to resist—
SMACK.
A sharp slap landed against his skin, the sudden sting sending a violent shiver down his spine. His eyes snapped open, his lips parting on a strangled breath.
Caesar smirked.
"Or," he drawled, gripping his waist tighter, his movements turning slow, deliberate, punishing, "you can start moaning like a bitch in heat."
Another slap. Harder.
Eun-jae sucked in a shaky breath, his body betraying him again, heat licking at his skin as his senses spun out of control. His mind screamed at him to resist—but his body was already surrendering, melting into the relentless rhythm, his thighs trembling, his pulse racing.
And Caesar knew.
Knew exactly what he was doing.
And he wasn't stopping anytime soon.
Eun-jae's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.
He was burning.
Heat coiled deep in his gut, spreading through every inch of him like wildfire. His fingers twitched against the cold floor, his mind swimming in a hazy fog, unable to think, unable to move.
But he had to.
He tried—tried to crawl away, tried to push himself forward— but a sharp gasp tore from his lips as strong hands caught his waist, yanking him back before he could escape.
A firm chest pressed against his spine.
Hard. Unyielding. Claiming.
Trapped.
His lashes fluttered as his vision swam, his body betraying him with each shudder that wracked his frame. He could feel every inch of Caesar behind him—heat radiating off of him in waves, breath teasing against the nape of Eun-jae's neck, fingers gripping his hips like they belonged there.
Like he belonged to him.
"Trying to run?"
Caesar's voice was low, teasing, every syllable dripping with dark amusement.
Eun-jae's body tensed as Caesar's fingers traced along his sides, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment—savoring his helplessness.
A shudder ran through him.
"I like it when you resist," Caesar murmured, voice velvety smooth. "It makes breaking you so much more fun."
Eun-jae's heart slammed against his ribs.
He clenched his teeth, but his breath came out shaky, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. His body felt too hot, too weak, too overwhelmed.