Chaptr 335

Chaptr 335
Ice looked away and unhurriedly climbed down the stairs.

War gently stepped away from Kenji, putting little to no distance between them.

"Ice, please don't blame Kenji. I know your marriage is fake, but I also know it's impolite of me to assume your role—"

"Enough, War." Kenji cut him off and walked over to Ice, who was heading toward the kitchen.

War watched them disappear into the kitchen and sighed.

"I'm only doing what my heart wants," he murmured and forced his legs to go up the stairs.

Inside the kitchen, Ice was idly sitting on the small table, slowly kicking his legs back and forth.

"Ice—" Kenji shut his mouth as Ice lifted his hand to stop him.

"You've got a lighter?" Ice asked, taking out his cigarette.

Kenji moved over to the drawers and searched for a lighter. He quickly found one and returned to Ice.

He searched Ice's expressionless face as he lit his cigarette, his chest tightening from the tense silence.

"Thanks." Ice took a slow drag and turned his face away from Kenji to let out the smoke.

"Ice. There was a misunderstanding—"

"I only returned because my mother would grow suspicious if I spent the night at the hospital instead of at a gala with my assumed husband. My cousin, Tar, he's there. He's always there. I don't want to give them reasons to doubt us." He explained calmly, taking another drag.

"There is no reason for them to doubt us, Ice—"

"There's none?" Ice smirked, glancing toward the kitchen door. "I doubt that."

Kenji's hand found Ice's knee, placing it very carefully and slowly stepping between Ice's thighs.

Ice watched him, not pushing him away, not fighting him, just stared at him and wondered for the nth time why the fuck he was letting himself get jealous.

Kenji took a slow breath before he spoke again. "War said he felt alone at home. He came to find me at the office, but Lara wouldn't let him through, so he thought claiming to be my husband would help. I've talked to him. He won't do it anymore—"

"Chill, Kenji." Ice smiled, placing his hand on Kenji's chest and sliding it up to his shoulder.

"You and I know we're not real. I get it if you try to defend my position in public, but in here, with just us... and War, you don't need to act like we're real." He murmured, shrugging a shoulder.

Kenji frowned, his hand getting firmer on Ice's knee.

"We are real." Kenji stated. "That marriage document is as legal as can be—"

"We don't have feelings for each other, Mr. Takumi. Don't be dumb." Ice muttered, slapping Kenji's hand away from his knee.

Kenji was quiet, unable to counter Ice's words.

They didn't have feelings for each other? What exactly defined these feelings?

Wanting to be close to someone? Caring? Worrying?

"What? Have you fallen for your fake husband?" Ice tilted his face, peering into Kenji's eyes, a teasing smile on his lips.

Kenji didn't smile. His gaze was intense as he returned Ice's gaze. "Would that ease your jealousy?" He questioned.

Ice scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous." He tried to hop down from the table, but Kenji's hands pressed him down by the hips, holding him there.

"Listen," Kenji murmured. "I said I wanted to be intimate with you—"

"Fuck me. Say fuck me. Intimate sounds... intimate." Ice corrected.

Kenji's gaze dropped to Ice's lips for a second before lifting to those blue eyes. "You really hate intimacy, don't you?"

Ice shook his head. "Actually, I would love intimacy with someone, not just you." He stated.

"Why?" Kenji asked, the hurt in his voice.

"Because you were clear when you said you would have me begging beneath you just to satisfy your ego and prove a point. That's not intimacy. That's joking with someone's body, mind, and feelings." Ice clarified.

Kenji was speechless. That was really his motive... initially. But now, he didn't think he could simply fuck Ice for fucking's sake. He wasn't sure what he wanted yet, but he was quite sure he didn't want just sex.

"That's what I said... initially. But now... I think my motive has changed." He slowly pulled Ice's hips closer, pressing their bodies together.

Ice gulped, hating the way his body hummed at the sound of Kenji's husky voice and proximity.

"Well, I don't care. Now, stop trying to justify why you were caught in 3D with War. I really don't give a fuck what you two do." He pushed Kenji away, hopping down from the table.

"You really don't care?" Kenji asked quietly, watching Ice.

Ice nodded. "Yes. I really don't. Actually, to prove I don't care, I will go to the gala with you and I will act like the husband I'm supposed to be, because if I don't, it means I'm actually jealous, and jealousy means giving a fuck, which I don't."

Ice put the cigarette out against the rim of a saucer, twisting it until the ember died.

'I'll just leave. Get dressed. Smile at the cameras. Don't stand here smelling like him.'

"I'm going to get ready," he said, already moving toward the door.

But he didn't get far.

Kenji caught his wrist and pulled him back in one sharp motion. Ice barely had time to inhale before Kenji's mouth slammed onto his.

The kiss was fire.

'Fuck—' Ice's eyes fluttered shut instantly.

No warning. No politeness. Just heat and the kind of hunger Kenji had been holding in since the stairs.

Ice shocked himself by answering it almost immediately.

'No. Don't. Don't you dare kiss him back—'

But his fingers were already fisted in Kenji's shirt anyway.

Their bodies pressed impossibly close, Ice's back hitting the edge of the counter as Kenji kissed him like he was trying to drag the lie out of his mouth. Ice kissed back harder, angry at how easy it was, angry at how fast his body opened for it after everything he had just said.

'You said you didn't care. You said it out loud. So why does this feel like relief?' Ice fought with himself.

For a few seconds, there was no War. No gala. No fake marriage.

Just that.

'This is the problem. Not the contract. Not the threats. This. The way he kisses like he already knows I'll break.'

Kenji pulled away slowly, breathing against Ice's lips. His voice came out husky, low, almost cruel in how calm it sounded.

"How would you feel," he asked, "if I kissed War the same way I just kissed you?"

The picture hit too fast.

War's pretty mouth. Kenji's hand in blonde hair. That same kiss. That same sound Kenji had just made against Ice's lips.

Ice's stomach turned.

'I would lose my mind.' He answered in his head.

He didn't say it.

He looked away, jaw tight, pulse still jumping in his throat.

'If I answer, it's over. If I answer, he wins. If I answer, it means I give a fuck.'

Kenji's voice softened.

"Whatever your answer is," he murmured, "that's how you truly feel about us."

'Us?'

The word sat in Ice's chest like a bruise.

Kenji leaned in and kissed his forehead. Gentle this time. Almost unfair after the last kiss.

"Go get ready for the gala," he whispered.

Then he let him go and walked out of the kitchen.

Ice stayed where he was, fingers still curled like they hadn't gotten the message that Kenji was gone. His mouth still tasted like him.

'I don't care.'

He swallowed.

'I don't.'

He dragged a hand through his white hair and laughed once, quiet and bitter, because even in his own head the lie was getting thinner.

'If he kisses War like that tonight, I won't survive the car ride home.'