the seraphim paradox

Narrowing his eyes, he slowly set his glass down and reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the strands of Caesar's hair.

And then—

Oh.

His mind went blank for a second.

His fingers curled slightly, feeling the texture between them. It was—soft. So soft. Like silk. No—like clouds. Or maybe like expensive fur coats that rich old ladies wore in winter.

Eun-jae blinked again, his lips parting slightly as he muttered in his head.

'It's so… soooooffffftttt…'

His eyes widened just a little, a faint glimmer of awe flickering in them. His fingers twitched before he abandoned all pretense of subtlety and used both hands, running them through Caesar's golden locks with an almost childlike fascination.

His mind was buzzing—not just from the alcohol, but from the pure betrayal of reality itself.

How the hell did this man have hair softer than half the expensive silk pillows he had ever touched?!

Unacceptable.

Unfair.

It was ridiculous.

He continued petting it, fingers raking through the strands as if trying to find one imperfection, one flaw—something to justify why it felt this damn nice.

Caesar, meanwhile, remained completely still, his smirk never fading. "Enjoying yourself?"

Eun-jae froze.

His hands stopped mid-motion.

His eyes flicked up, meeting Caesar's gaze—filled with amusement.

Heat rushed to his face.

His fingers twitched, still buried in the golden strands, before he abruptly ripped his hands away like he had just touched fire.

"Tch." He cleared his throat, immediately reaching for his drink as if that would erase the last thirty seconds of his life. "It's whatever."

Caesar chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "That's not what your eyes were saying."

Eun-jae shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual fire. His brain was still struggling to process the betrayal of Caesar's unfairly soft hair.

With a dramatic sigh, he took another sip of his drink before muttering under his breath.

"…Fucking rich people and their good genetics."

Caesar only smirked wider.

Caesar poured himself another glass of liquor, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as it filled the crystal tumbler. The room was hazy now—alcohol clouding the air, the scent of tobacco still lingering between them. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on their faces, highlighting sharp jawlines and tired eyes that had seen too much, yet were still wide open, still observing, still taking in every little detail of the other.

As Caesar raised his head, he nearly froze in place. Eun-jae's face was right there—way too close.

For a moment, Caesar didn't move, simply watching the way Eun-jae's hazel eyes lazily traced his features. There was something loose about his posture, something unguarded, and for once, he wasn't scowling or rolling his eyes at him. Instead, his gaze was almost... curious.

Eun-jae's lips parted slightly before he spoke, his voice laced with the telltale weight of alcohol. "Your face is too smooth... No hair, no pimples... just too smooth."

His breath was warm against Caesar's skin, and if Eun-jae had been a little more sober, he might have realized just how dangerously close he was.

Caesar chuckled, tilting his head slightly, amused by the way Eun-jae was unabashedly studying him like some rare artifact. He could practically hear the gears turning in Eun-jae's fuzzy brain, trying to process how the hell someone like him could have such perfect skin.

"You're too close," Caesar murmured, voice dropping a little lower, playing into the moment just to see how Eun-jae would react. A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned forward slightly, the space between them shrinking even more. "I might think you want to kiss me."

He was close enough now that if either of them moved even an inch, their lips would brush. Caesar could see the flicker of realization in Eun-jae's half-lidded eyes, the way his pupils slightly dilated as he processed the words.

For a split second, Eun-jae didn't move.

Then—a sharp shove.

Caesar let out a low chuckle as he was pushed back, the slight force making his head tilt slightly before he straightened, entirely unbothered. Eun-jae, on the other hand, was now sitting back down, looking far more flustered than he probably intended.

"In your dreams, perv," Eun-jae muttered, grabbing his glass and taking another sip, as if the alcohol would help cool down whatever heat had just crept up his neck.

Caesar merely grinned, swirling the liquor in his glass before taking another slow sip.

"But tell me," Eun-jae continued, his gaze narrowing slightly as he seemed to remember his original thought. "What's your secret?"

Caesar arched a brow. "Secret?"

Eun-jae gestured vaguely at his face. "This. Your skin. How the hell is it so smooth? No scars, no acne, no goddamn stubble—just unfairly perfect." His words were slightly slurred, and the tips of his ears were tinged pink, whether from the alcohol or the previous encounter, Caesar wasn't sure.

Caesar exhaled a small laugh before setting his glass down. "Nothing, really. Just genetics." He took another gulp of his drink, letting the burn settle in his throat.

Eun-jae squinted at him, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. "Bullshit. You must have some fancy-ass skincare routine or something. Do you, like... bathe in gold? Wash your face with unicorn tears?"

Caesar snorted. "Nope. Just good genes, sweetheart."

Eun-jae huffed, muttering something under his breath that Caesar couldn't quite catch, but he was pretty sure it was something along the lines of unfair bastard.

Caesar merely smirked, enjoying the sight of Eun-jae sulking into his drink. "Jealous?"

Eun-jae scoffed. "Please. I just don't like it when people look like they walked straight out of a damn magazine while the rest of us have to work for it." He took another sip of his drink before pointing at Caesar with a lazy wave of his hand. "If you weren't such an ass, you could've been a model or something."

Caesar grinned, setting his drink down. "If I wasn't such an ass? Now where's the fun in that?"

Eun-jae clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Tsk. Waste of a good face."

Caesar chuckled again, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Eun-jae. The alcohol was clearly hitting him harder now, making him less guarded, more prone to spilling whatever thoughts crossed his mind.

And Caesar? Well, he was enjoying every second of it.

Eun-jae exploded into laughter, after some bullshit Caesar spilled. His voice ringing out in the dimly lit space like a chaotic melody. It was the kind of laughter that came from deep in the stomach, the kind that shook shoulders and made it hard to breathe. His body swayed slightly as he poured another drink, the alcohol sloshing over the rim of the glass.

Caesar, on the other hand, simply snorted at the scene unfolding before him. He didn't laugh—not the way Eun-jae did—but the amusement in his expression was evident. His lips twitched, his sharp eyes gleaming under the dim glow of the room.

Eun-jae was wasted.

There was no denying it now. His face was flushed a delicate shade of red, his usually sharp, calculating gaze softened into a dazed, half-lidded expression. His lips jutted out in an unconscious pout, making him look more like a grumpy, sulking kid than a man who had survived more battles than he cared to count.

If he was sober, he'd probably be horrified at himself.

But right now?

Right now, he didn't give a damn.

He rocked slightly in his seat, eyes lazily drifting across the table until they landed on Caesar—who was still as a statue.

A frown tugged at his lips.

Wait.

Was he…?

Eun-jae blinked.

Was this man really asleep?

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward as if that would give him a better look.

Caesar had his arms crossed, his head tilted ever so slightly, his eyes shut, his breathing steady.

Out.

Gone.

Completely unconscious.

A mischievous grin spread across Eun-jae's face, his intoxicated brain immediately jumping to conclusions.

"Hehehe~" He giggled, nudging Caesar's shoulder lightly with a finger. The blonde didn't stir.

Eun-jae's grin widened.

"Someone can't handle their liquor~" he sing-songed, voice teasing, eyes glinting with satisfaction.

And then—

Bang.

His body gave out.

Like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut, Eun-jae slumped forward, his head hitting the table with a dull thud. The world spun for a brief second, and then—darkness.

—

A small, amused chuckle echoed in the quiet.

Caesar's eyes fluttered open, sharp and alert, not a single trace of drunkenness in his gaze. His lips curled into a smirk as he exhaled a thin wisp of smoke from his freshly lit cigarette, the ember at its tip glowing faintly in the dim lighting.

He flicked his gaze downward, his attention drawn to the unconscious man beside him.

Eun-jae's fingers were still curled slightly, resting near his own hand. Without really thinking, Caesar reached out, lightly pinching the tip of Eun-jae's smallest finger between his own.

He turned it slightly, inspecting it.

"Tch."

A small chuckle rumbled in his chest as he rolled the digit between his fingers, feeling the warmth of Eun-jae's skin against his own.

"Such a small finger."

His voice was low, almost to himself.

His smirk widened as he took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke into the air.

Interesting.

This was getting more fun by the second.

Eun-jae's eyes cracked open, his vision blurry and his head pounding like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his skull. Ugh. His body felt heavy, like he had been buried under a mountain of bad decisions and even worse alcohol.

"Owww, my head..." he groaned, his voice raspy, his throat dry like he had been chewing on cotton all night.

For a moment, he just laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling, the dim glow of the room doing absolutely nothing to ease the nausea twisting in his stomach. His brain was struggling to catch up, stuck between the miserable haze of a hangover and the sharp clarity of reality.

Then—

His nose twitched.

The hell is that smell?

The sharp tang of alcohol clung to the air, but beneath it was something else. Something more distinct.

Caesar.

It wasn't just the lingering scent of cigarettes and whiskey—it was his damn pheromones, thick in the air, wrapping around Eun-jae like an invisible chain. Sharp, dominant, laced with something both intoxicating and dangerous.

His lips curled in irritation.

Great. Just great.

His last functioning brain cells sluggishly pieced together the events of the night before.

Drinking. Laughing. Touching his stupid, soft blonde hair.

Ugh.

His brows twitched in frustration as he slowly pushed himself up, rubbing his temples as if he could physically massage the hangover out of his skull. He turned his head, expecting to see Caesar slumped in the chair where he last saw him, but—

Nothing.

Empty.

The bastard was gone.

Not my problem.

He groaned again, shoving the covers off his body and flopping onto his proper bed. The mattress was soft—too soft. He melted into it, sighing heavily.

Sleep. That was all he needed. If Caesar was off somewhere being an insufferable bastard, then good for him. Eun-jae wasn't going to waste another second thinking about him.

His eyelids were just about to shut—

Click.

The door creaked.

A cold chill crawled up his spine.

His body tensed immediately.

The air felt different.

Something was wrong.

Before he could move, a hand shot out of the darkness, clamping around his throat.

Tight. Cold. Unforgiving.

His eyes flew open in shock, his breath snagging in his throat. He couldn't see—just shadows. Just fingers tightening, cutting off his air.

"K-Kueek… Hngh—" His hands shot up, instinctively clawing at the fingers squeezing his neck, his pulse thundering in his ears.

Then—

A chuckle.

Low. Mocking.

"Ah ty, glupaya kotyonok!!"

Russian.

The voice was smooth, deep, and far too amused—like whoever it belonged to was enjoying this.

Eun-jae's brain screamed at him to move, fight, do something, but his limbs were slow, unresponsive. The darkness around him was pressing in, suffocating—

And then—

He woke up.

"GAHH—!"

His body jerked upright, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. His heart was hammering so violently against his ribs that he swore it might burst out of his chest.

His fingers immediately flew to his throat, rubbing at the phantom sensation of cold hands still lingering there.

A dream?

No. A nightmare.

But it felt too real.

His pulse was still racing, his skin clammy with sweat. The voice, the grip, the suffocating darkness—it all lingered, refusing to fade.

He swallowed, his gaze flickering around the room. Nothing. Just the dim glow of the lamps. Just the usual shadows cast by furniture. Just—

Water.

His breath hitched.

The shower was running.

Eun-jae's spine stiffened.

Wait.

Wait.

Who the fuck was in the shower?

A fresh wave of unease crawled up his back, his senses sharpening despite the lingering haze in his head.

Had someone actually been in his room? Had someone been strangling him?

Or—

His sluggish brain supplied an even more ridiculous thought.

Was this it?

Was this how it happened?

Was this the dream coming true?

His traitorous imagination immediately painted a picture—Caesar. Shirtless. Hair damp. Steam curling around his absurdly tall figure, clinging to his toned body in a way that looked straight out of some dramatic, over-the-top mafia romance scene.

Eun-jae physically cringed.

Holy shit. Stop.

STOP.

Get a grip, you idiot!

He violently shook his head, pushing away the thought before it could take root.

This wasn't some damn fanfiction.

If someone was in that shower, it could be anyone.

And that meant one thing—

He needed his gun.

His fingers curled around the cool metal, his breath steadying as he silently slid out of bed. Despite the headache pounding behind his eyes, his movements were smooth, precise.

If someone was trying to kill him, they picked the wrong fucking day.

His bare feet barely made a sound as he moved toward the bathroom. His muscles coiled, every nerve on high alert.

The water kept running. No movement. No sounds.

One deep breath.

Then—

Eun-jae kicked the door open, gun raised—

Ready to shoot.

Eun-jae's breath was still heavy, his heart hammering violently against his ribs from the sheer shock and adrenaline pumping through his veins. His grip on the gun was tight, his fingers stiff from how hard he was clutching the cold metal. His mind was a mess, tangled between the lingering fear from his near-death experience and the growing irritation at the very idea that someone had been in his room—in his space—choking him in his sleep.

His throat still felt sore, like an invisible hand was still wrapped around it. He exhaled sharply, trying to clear his head, to process, to rationalize. But before he could make sense of what had just happened—

Click.

His head snapped toward the front door.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Slow. Careless.

Then—

Caesar.

Standing there, casual as ever, as if nothing had happened. As if Eun-jae hadn't just been wrestling with the unknown, gasping for air like a dying fish.

Eun-jae's brows furrowed, his grip on his gun tightening before he lowered it slightly, his mind still reeling.

"Caesar?!" His voice shot up an octave, a mix of disbelief and sheer frustration.

And what did this blond bastard do?

Did he ask if Eun-jae was okay? Did he look even the slightest bit concerned?

No.

Instead—

Caesar tilted his head, lazily scanning Eun-jae from head to toe, his usual annoyingly smug expression plastered across his face.

Then, with a slow smirk curling onto his lips, he chuckled.

"What are you doing?" His voice was silky smooth, teasing, dripping with amusement.

Then he added, casually—

"So pervy."

PERVY?!

Eun-jae's eye twitched.

Oh, OH, THIS MOTHERF—

His face burned, not from embarrassment, but from sheer fury.

What part of this situation looked pervy to him?! What part of standing barefoot in the middle of a dimly lit room, gun still in hand, looking like a deranged mess, screamed 'PERVY'?!

Before he could snap, before he could cuss him out in every language he knew, before he could demand where the hell he had been all night—

Click.

The bathroom door swung open.

And out stepped—

A woman.

A very, very, very naked woman.