Zen's POV

My heart is beating out of my chest. My vision is blurred, with what? Tears? What's happening? Where am I? I feel the floor beneath my knees. I try to stand, but I can't. I can't even move my arms. Forcing my eyes to focus, I look up and see my wrists bound to the side of the bedframe by a thick red ribbon. Is this a sex thing…? Then why do I feel so… so scared?

Something touches my side and I whip my head around. It's Jumin. It's only Jumin. I should feel relaxed, so why don't I?

Wait, is he talking to me? I watch as his lips move, but all sound is muffled. I focus intently on his mouth.

Mine. You're mine, they seem to say. More words… Something about… I can't leave?

I… can't leave. Fuck, I can't leave. I look again at my tether, pulling at it but making no headway.

I look back to Jumin. His eyes are wild, but not with lust. It's with something stronger. Something feral and instinctual. His pupils are dilated, the whites spread wide. Trembling.

He leans in, and I hear his voice finally, like an echo inside my skull, "You are mine… forever."

I snap out of slumber quickly as my eyes fly open to the room alight with sun. My breath goes from quick, shallow breaths to deep sighs as I realize it was only a nightmare. Yes, only a nightmare. The first thing I notice are my hands, snuggly contained within Jumin's and resting on his chest. Is this why I dreamed my hands were bound? We are completely entwined together, his arm my pillow and my legs wrapped around his. His warm, slow breaths land against my forehead as he cuddles me close in his sleep.

I peek up and see that rare look of true peace in his fully relaxed expression. Guilt prickles inside me. How could I imagine Jumin doing something like that? Even in my sleep? It almost felt like another prophetic dream…but how could it be? He's been nothing but sweet. Nothing but gentle and obliging.

I think of that voice echoing in my ear, 'You are mine, forever,' and my thoughts linger on that word… mine. I stare forward, my gaze unfocused as I watch his body subtly move with each breath. Perhaps between his grip on my wrists and my proclaiming that I belong to him so many times last night, my brain conjured up that nightmare…? That must be it. Just my subconscious reminding me to slow things down.

My eyes venture leisurely over his face. His straight features. His long dark lashes. His smooth skin, not quite as nice as mine. But so calm. So serene. The sight of it relaxes me. It makes me happy to see him this way. I feel like I'm the only one who gets to see this side of him. Of course, I'm the only person who has gotten to see that devilish and lustful side of him, too. I feel an embarrassed blush crawl across my cheeks as I picture Jumin… flushed, mussed, and thrusting inside of me. Now that… that really happened. That was real. It wasn't exactly the same, but still. It's clear that had been more than a mere dream.

Then, recalling my sloppy state before passing out, I look down at my chest. I don't see anything but flawless skin, though. I slip my hand from Jumin's grasp and rub along my torso, expecting to feel sticky remnants somewhere. But as I check my chest, my abs, even my pubes, I feel clean. Why does it seem like nothing happened? Wait… With a slight bit of hesitation, I reach around to my ass. Am I going to be sore…? But as I gently pull at my ass cheek, testing how sensitive I am, I don't feel any pain at all.

"How are you?" Jumin's voice makes me jump.

"Jumin! You're awake?"

"I felt you pulling away from me…" he drones sleepily. "So, how are you? Not sore, I hope."

"No," I begin, testing myself out a little more before I answer, "I actually feel completely fine. I'm surprised. And I'm somehow clean?" I chuckle. "Thanks for taking care of me last night. I was so exhausted…"

"Of course," he says, sliding his arm around my back and toying with my hair. "I'm glad you are feeling okay this morning."

His mouth settles on my forehead in a gentle kiss. I expect him to pull away, but he stays, his lips pressed against me. And it's so tender. So adoring. So indulgent. I can't control the tears that well in my eyes, nor the warmth that blooms in my belly and swells into my chest just to catch in my throat. How can something so simple evoke so much emotion?

My subconscious doesn't know what it's talking about. I feel safe with Jumin. We're not moving too fast. I… I love him.

He finally pulls back, smiling, but when he sees my face, he frowns, eyes suddenly full of concern. "Tears again? What's wrong? Are you not actually fine? Is it your back? Your stomach?"

I laugh, reaching up to wipe the wetness away. "No, they're happy tears. I'm happy, Jumin." I beam up at him, pouring all of my love and appreciation for him and his kindness into it.

His eyes widen. "You're… happy?" He looks down and to the side, a blush coloring his cheeks. His gaze suddenly darts back to meet mine, and he grins. "I'm happy, too. I'm happier than I ever dreamed was possible."

I lean in, closing the short distance between us. Lips still turned up into smiles, we come together, peppering each other with soft, slow pecks.

"Of course," he interjects against my mouth, his tone deathly serious, "if I had known sex would make me this happy, I would have done it years ago."

I freeze, eyes popping open like saucers. "Are you kidding me!?" I yell, kicking the blankets off and landing a few tempered punches to his arm.

But through my tantrum, I hear Jumin's soft rumble of laughter, and I finally stop to look at him with a huff.

"I love teasing you," he says, his eyes twinkling as he looks up at me.

I cross my arms and look away. "Ruined a perfectly cute moment. Jerk."

Jumin smirks and moves his face to the crook of my shoulder. "I think I improved upon it." I feel his tongue, quickly followed by his teeth, as he licks and sucks the base of my neck.

"Jumin! No more hickies! I'm already covered!"

"Are you?" he questions sarcastically. He leans back and gestures to the length of my body.

I look down my body again, and this time, searching for the many marks that I know I had last night, note my completely unblemished form.

"What the hell?" I mumble. I rub my chest, checking the place where I know Jumin took a fairly deep bite into me last night. "Oh… my healing…"

"Yes," he sighs, trailing his fingers along my skin. "They had already started to fade last night as I cleaned you. I find I am both relieved and annoyed."

"Huh? Why?"

"On the one hand... this means I can devour your delicious body as much as you'll let me," he begins, "but on the other hand, it means I can't leave my mark on you…"

I swallow hard, watching his hand dance along thigh.

"Well. In any case," he continues, giving me a quick peck before sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed. "We should get up." He picks up his watch off of the bedside table, checks the time, then slips it on - his first item of clothing for the day. "We have some time, but it's getting late, and we have a lot to do today."

"W-what? But it's Saturday…?"

Jumin looks over his shoulder and gives me a soft smile. "Exactly. Better to get these things over with today than bother everyone with them on a Sunday or put them off until Monday. Assistant Kang insisted, and I agree."

I stare at Jumin, upper lip raised as I sit in perplexed indignation. "Bother who with what?"

"The press conference," he says, as if it's obvious, and stands. I automatically look away, then, remembering that I'm allowed to look, let my eyes trail up and down his bare back and ass. As he walks off towards his massive closet, he adds, "You don't have any suits here with you, but we're similar in size. I'm sure one of mine will fit you nicely."

Jumin's suit…? For a press conference?! I mumble to myself, "Why do I feel like I went to sleep and missed something important…?"

Jumin's POV

How? HOW? I stand with my arms crossed against my chest, my left hand balled into a tight fist and pressed against my gritted teeth. How can he look so good putting clothes ON?

Zen's hands slide down his torso, smoothing out the dress shirt. My loaned belt glides across his waist as he slides it through the loops. His shoulders roll as pulls the lapels forward, drawing the suit jacket into place.

"Do I need a tie?" he asks, voice light, as if he is completely unaware of how devastatingly sexy he is.

The corner of my mouth twitches as I picture one of my ties as a blindfold. Perhaps another around his wrists.

"Jumin?" he prods. He waves his arms to each side, jutting out his hip and posing. "How do I look?"

"...Good enough that I'm thinking about canceling this press conference." I mean, honestly. Who cares about PR? Is it really going to affect anything? We should just stay inside all day. Alone, together.

Zen rolls his eyes with a cavalier smile. "Keep it in your pants, ya horny bastard." He tugs lightly on the jacket hem, with a little twist adding, "It actually fits better than I thought it would."

"It should. I'm only slightly taller than you."

His red eyes leer at me while his lip curls into a sneer. "Did I say it fits well? What I meant was it's tight in the chest and arms because my muscles are bigger than yours."

I tilt my head to the side, trying to parse out his aggravated tone. "Is that so…?"

"Yup. And I definitely wear it better than you," he adds. He brushes his hand through his silver bangs and stands confidently.

"Definitely," I agree, fidgeting with my watch as I make no headway in discerning the reason for his childlike bragging. Oh, wait… Thinking of it as childlike gives me an idea for its cause. "Are you jealous that I'm taller than you?"

Zen flinches and I watch his cheeks turn pink. He quickly looks away and asks in a brash voice, "Anyway, can you take my picture? You don't have any full length mirrors, and if I'm going to be on TV I need to make sure I look good."

I try to contain my smirk, knowing that I must have hit the nail on the head. "Of course." I pull out my phone and open the camera.

"Take a couple," Zen says, immediately moving into a model-like stance.

I do as I'm told, snapping photo after photo as he changes his positioning. He looks so handsome in my suit… I think, smiling. Although… all I have are boring black suits, and white really is his color…

"Okay, let me see," he says, coming to my side.

I pull up the gallery and hand him my phone. I watch as he looks through, the sneer on his face growing more and more displeased with each swipe.

"Why is every photo blurry? Like, literally every photo?"

I look over his shoulder. The photos aren't great, but he still looks good in each one. Just like my photos of Elizabeth. "V's the photographer, not me. But in any case, I think you look quite suave and professional." I pluck my cell phone from his hands and give him a quick kiss to the cheek. "Now, are you ready to get going?"

"Ah, umm," he utters with raised eyebrows. "I guess so. You promise I look TV ready? How I look is important for my work, you know."

"I'm aware," I reassure him with a smirk. "You have those notecards I gave you? Are you sure you'll be able to retain all that on the drive over?"

"Yeah," he scoffs confidently. "It's just memorizing lines, isn't it?"

"Yes, essentially," I say.

I walk towards the door and pause with my hand on the knob. It was me who pushed for this press conference today… So why am I feeling so strained now that we're about to leave? But without having to dive any deeper than the shallow shore of my thoughts, I know that it has nothing to do with fear of public speaking or worry over reporter inquiries as one might find normal. No, it is simply that I don't want to leave this bubble. I had the most blissful day at home with Zen yesterday, and if it were solely up to me and my desires, we would stay locked in this penthouse for a week… a month… a year. An eternity with him wouldn't be enough. Once we walk out this door, will he still be mine?

"Jumin?" I turn to see Zen standing behind me, fiddling nervously with his hair. "I know we don't have a ton of time, but could we stop by and see the girls before the press conference? I'd really like to tell them about the charity in person before they see it on the news. I don't want them to think it's just a publicity stunt, you know? I want them to know that I'm doing it, well, you're doing it, because we care."

I stare, a feeling of dumbstruck awe swirling around me. He is so caring. So considerate. All for these women who tried to kidnap him and take him to their cult headquarters to do who knows what. To be on the receiving end of his compassion is a wondrous thing.

Reaching out my hand to him, I say, "We won't be able to stay long, but I'll make it happen."

He smiles, the brightness of it lighting up my world, and places his hand in mine.