Water was poured over the pechka. Its piping-hot stones hissed, belching thick clouds of steam. For a moment, the sudden surge of heat made it hard to breathe. But the discomfort was gone in no time. Taekjoo’s frozen body thawed at the warmth. He felt like he was sweating out not just perspiration, but exhaustion itself. A sauna during a mission was indeed a luxury.
Taekjoo took a slow look around the banya. It was small compared to what the innkeeper had bragged about, as the space looked barely enough for three grown men—certainly not one more. At the moment, the sauna felt spacious with Taekjoo alone, but that would change once Zhenya joined him.
Taekjoo glared at the door, waiting for Zhenya. Zhenya went to the kitchen to fetch some vodka after telling Taekjoo that no Russian would truly consider it a banya without the liquor. He would have to take off his clothes this time. A brief sense of victory washed over Taekjoo, only to be replaced by a groan. Why was he so obsessed with another man’s body? This is all Zhenya’s fault. He’s making such a fuss out of showing a bit of skin. Taekjoo blamed Zhenya.
He was muttering to himself when the door suddenly swung open. Finally, Zhenya, whom Taekjoo had been waiting for so long, stepped into the banya. Sitting on the upper bench, Taekjoo should have seen Zhenya’s face first. But the Russian was so tall that Taekjoo’s gaze first landed on something much lower. Taekjoo frowned at the sight. Zhenya’s member was practically a weapon. How could it possibly be that big, even when it was flaccid? Taekjoo now understood why those who slept with him moaned so desperately.
He looked up and saw Zhenya grinning, as if he’d just read Taekjoo’s thoughts. Taekjoo pretended nothing was wrong, and Zhenya played along, silently sitting across from him. Between Zhenya’s knees hung a pink, heavy-looking piece of flesh—its size and weight obvious at a glance. He tried to ignore it and looked away, but at that exact moment, Zhenya’s balls slipped just below the edge of the bench, instinctively pulling Taekjoo’s gaze back. Zhenya didn’t seem the least bit fazed by being stared at. He simply handed Taekjoo an empty glass.
“You better stop that now,” he said.
“Once it gets hard, it has to be rammed in a hole. Any hole will do.”
Taekjoo’s gaze snapped up from the bench edge as Zhenya smirked, poured Taekjoo a glass, then filled his own and downed it. Taekjoo drank his vodka as well, his eyes lingering on Zhenya’s body, watching it through the translucent bottom of his glass.
It looked almost unreal. Slender yet firm, as if it had been sculpted with meticulous precision. Every muscle was shaped to perfection, a deliberate work of art. His collarbones formed a clean, straight line that flowed seamlessly into broad shoulders. The more pronounced features—his Adam’s apple, elbows, and wrists—drew strong and delicate lines. The muscles along his ribs fanned out like shark gills. His abs were so precisely defined, they seemed like they’d been chiseled into his body from the start. His skin looked soft and fair, yet his body appeared rock-hard, so solid that a needle might snap trying to pierce it.
Not a single scar or blemish marked his skin. Taekjoo couldn’t understand why Zhenya had kept it hidden all this time. It felt strangely anticlimactic.
“And here I was, expecting something mind-blowing.”
“You wanted to see my body that badly? A bit naughty, aren’t you?”
What did he just say? Taekjoo put on a fake smile and poured another pail of water over the pechka. With a hiss, a cloud of pearly steam rose, mercifully hiding Zhenya’s smug face, albeit just for a moment.
The steam and humidity had both of them drenched in sweat. Zhenya’s body gleamed. With every inhale, his shoulders expanded, making his muscles shift and ripple. Each muscle seemed like an independent entity, yet they moved in harmony—organic and integral to the whole. Taekjoo’s own body wasn’t so different, yet he kept stealing glances at Zhenya.
Zhenya leaned back and closed his eyes. A bead of sweat slid from his jawline down his neck. Clear beads formed along the bulge of his throat, tracing a slow path downward. It was trivial, but somehow, it put Taekjoo on edge.
Had he been staring too much? Zhenya suddenly opened his eyes and caught Taekjoo’s staring. No—he wasn’t looking at Taekjoo’s eyes. To be precise, his gaze lingered on Taekjoo’s body, not his face. Zhenya’s jade-colored pupils moved lazily beneath glistening lashes. Taekjoo felt a strange tickle, as if a snake were flicking its tongue across his skin.
Taekjoo shifted the towel hanging on his neck to his head. Then, he leaned forward to block the indecent stare.
Zhenya poured himself another glass of vodka. Just below the towel, Taekjoo’s lips parted and closed, exhaling bursts of hot breath. The heat of the sauna had turned them a vivid, almost feverish red. His plump lower lip glistened—was it from the vodka? Zhenya tilted his glass, stealing glances at the tongue that kept flicking in and out of view. He drained his drink in one smooth motion and licked his lips, looking like a hungry predator.
“I can see where he was coming from...” mumbled Zhenya.
Taekjoo looked up. This time, their eyes met. The stare was a little too intense, too persistent to hold—but avoiding it now would have been even stranger. They locked eyes, as if in a silent standoff, until Zhenya suddenly shifted and leaned forward. Their faces were now just inches apart. Zhenya snickered when he saw Taekjoo’s pupils contract.
“Your ass is too hot to be on a man’s body.”
Taekjoo had, in fact, been wondering why that damn mouth of his had been quiet for so long. Taekjoo picked up a birch branch—common in banyas—and struck Zhenya across the face. The branch shed a spray of droplets, each hitting the floor with a gentle plink. Zhenya didn’t flinch at the harsh retaliation. He simply raised his eyes and stared at Taekjoo. Droplets clinging to his hair fell to the floor, and the lips that once smirked were now set in a straight, rigid line. Taekjoo might have crossed a line this time.
Something strange flickered in Zhenya’s eyes. Taekjoo sensed danger immediately, but it was too late. Zhenya had already seized Taekjoo’s wrists. He didn’t even have a second to brace himself. As his arms were twisted and pulled back, his face hit the wall. Pain exploded in Taekjoo’s skull with a sudden, loud crack. His vision spun with the sudden shift in position. Zhenya pinned him down with his own weight and exhaled into Taekjoo’s ear. In the scuffle, Taekjoo’s towel had come loose.
I’m screwed. Taekjoo could still see how quickly Zhenya’s face had gone cold. He tried to wrest his arm free from Zhenya’s tight grip, something he had never managed before, and still couldn’t.
Zhenya stayed silent for a while, catching his breath as he stared down at Taekjoo. His gaze swept over Taekjoo’s body, from the graceful curve of his neck down to his firm wrists. Zhenya looked like he was trying to decide which part to snap in two.
Zhenya twisted Taekjoo’s wrists even further. In response, Taekjoo’s body tensed, his instincts kicking in to protect his limbs from breaking. His thighs and ass tensed as well. A pair of observant eyes traced the dewy line of Taekjoo’s back, gliding slowly downward until they stopped at his ass. Taekjoo’s slim waist contrasted with the roundness of his ass, emphasizing the curve. The meaty flesh glistened with sweat. It didn’t take long for the madness to fade from Zhenya’s eyes, replaced by a subtle desire.
He reached out for Taekjoo’s ass. He could’ve grabbed it right away, but for reasons unknown to him, his hand moved slowly. Finally, just as his fingers were about to brush the round mound of flesh, he was stopped. Taekjoo, who had been silent all this time, suddenly shifted his weight backward and threw Zhenya off. Then, in one swift motion, he grabbed Zhenya’s wrist and hurled him away.
Zhenya was defenseless against the sudden judo attack. But judging by how quickly he relaxed, it seemed like Zhenya might have let Taekjoo win on purpose. After being tossed around, he returned to his usual gregarious self. Taekjoo picked up the towel that had fallen and draped it back around his neck.
“Are you going to run off and call your mommy?”
Zhenya mocked Taekjoo, who was about to step out of the banya. Taekjoo matched the childish response with equal immaturity.
“Yeah, I’m going to go tell on you and make sure you get a scolding.”
Taekjoo didn’t forget to flip him off. He stepped out of the banya, the sound of Zhenya’s boisterous laughter trailing behind him. Crazy bastard. What’s so funny? What’s he laughing about? Taekjoo shook his head as he walked toward the changing room.
However, he stopped after just a few steps and placed a hand on his left chest. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely breathe, and every hair on his body stood on end.
It had been a close call this time—if Zhenya hadn’t been distracted, he would’ve definitely broken at least one of Taekjoo’s bones. He wasn’t the generous type to go easy on someone just because they were his partner. Quite the opposite—he was the kind who’d crush someone just for being in a bad mood.
Taekjoo’s hands were trembling. He clenched them into fists to steady them. He had never felt this way before. People don’t know what fear is until it stares them in the face. Taekjoo was no exception.
He told himself that he had to wrap up the mission as quickly as possible. Finish the mission and get away from Zhenya. That was the only way to free himself from this unsettling emotion.