Snake Venom Ch 103

Chapter 103

Darkness blanketed the surroundings. The city lights that had once stabbed at his eyes when the conversation began had long since vanished without a trace. When Cheon Wooshin cut the engine, even the trees and empty lot that had barely shown themselves under the headlights were swallowed whole by the night.

“I mean, so… that’s why.”

The rear door opened. Despite the sudden movement, Lee Yeonwoo did not register Cheon Wooshin’s presence. He had his entire face covered with the jacket he’d thrown over his head, mumbling into the fabric.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a vile bastard. Lying is seriously awful. I was really awful. Ha… just like Im Sehan-ssi said, I should’ve just been honest from the start. I’m so stupid.”

Cheon Wooshin braced a hand on the car body, bending at the waist to peer inside. His gaze fell straight to the space between Lee Yeonwoo’s legs. Even as his frantic apology spiraled into self-reproach, his pressed-together thighs kept trembling. After watching that sight in chilling silence, Cheon Wooshin finally spoke.

“Is it very difficult for you?”

His tone was impeccably measured. But because it was Cheon Wooshin’s voice, Lee Yeonwoo could only nod, helpless. In blabbering without restraint, he had neglected to notice his excitement; by now, it had swelled past the point where self-control held any meaning. Even the smallest lift of his hips sent sharp tremors coursing through him.

He wanted to touch himself. Licking lips dried by heat, Lee Yeonwoo hunched his shoulders. The urge storming through him felt no different from going into heat. Then wouldn’t the method of release be the same? Realizing that thought dyed his mind an even fiercer shade of red. What would become of him if he lost sight of reason entirely? Of course, he had always taken suppressants, so he had never let it reach that point.

What do I do? He understood well that Cheon Wooshin, ever responsible, would never leave him in this state. Yet sharing such a confined space with him right now was pure torment. On the verge of reaching down immediately, Lee Yeonwoo whispered into the darkness.

“Um, if I could just… be alone for a bit. I think it would get better if I… if I let it out a few times.”

“By yourself?”

The calm voice pierced him.

“Uh, yes, of course. By mys—”

Nodding out of habit, Lee Yeonwoo froze. He blinked slowly. His audacious past—stacking lie upon lie—lashed his conscience.

“Team Leader, I… there’s, um… another lie I told.”

Every second spent dredging his past deceit filled him with indescribable shame. So I really was that petty. He despised himself for fooling the other man with such flimsy justification and drew his knees close. Between trembling lips, a pitiful confession seeped out.

“It… it was my first time. I pretended I had experience. Y-You won’t acknowledge him as a team leader, but… I lied to him too… I’m sorry. Truly… I’m so sorry.”

“Him….”

Repeating the word, Cheon Wooshin turned his gaze to the void. His tongue pressed inside his cheek, making a smooth line bulge then fall. When he looked back into the car, his eyes gleamed darker than before.

“I heard you had someone you were hooking up with.”

The dry rumble of his low voice dropped like a stone. Hooking up… what—oh. Understanding a beat too late, Lee Yeonwoo jolted upright.

“N-No! I don’t have anyone like that. Mosaic-types have to be cautious about partners. When I was with you, I remembered someone saying people don’t like inexperience, so I pretended I… had some.”

“Lee Yeonwoo.”

His name slid into his ear, low and sudden. The aggressive weight of it made him flinch.

Cheon Wooshin stepped fully over the door frame. His knees, his thighs, his hips—all entered with a practiced economy, the slight dip of his head avoiding the car roof with composed precision. He reached out. The way he yanked the jacket aside was uncharacteristically rough. Brightness rushed into Lee Yeonwoo’s vision.

“We should take this off.”

His large frame, stiff tone, the shadow he cast—all squeezed the air in the car tight.

“At the very least, you should know who’s right in front of you.”

In Yeonwoo’s widened pupils, Cheon Wooshin’s hard jaw and sculpted neck filled the space. Just being beneath him threatened to steal his breath. Warning bells screamed. Saliva pooled thick in his mouth, his body twitching in response. Danger.

“Look.”

Cheon Wooshin lowered his gaze.

“Who am I?”

His hand slid between Lee Yeonwoo’s parted thighs. Fingers found him with a boldness bordering on rudeness, and yet the sensation tore through him so sharply he shook all over, voiceless.

Cheon Wooshin pressed his palm against him. Even that slight pressure detonated sparks behind Yeonwoo’s eyes. The scrape of skin alone set him burning.

“Hngh…”

Unable to hold back anymore, Yeonwoo reached down, but his trembling fingers couldn’t work even a single buckle. Cheon Wooshin flicked his eyes downward, calmly watching his feverish fumbling.

“Lee Yeonwoo-ssi.”

The cold voice sliced the air. Regardless of your state, it commanded—take me in.

Barely finding focus, Yeonwoo blinked through tears. Cheon Wooshin’s face wavered in his blurred vision. As if that wasn’t enough, Wooshin bore into his gaze mercilessly, gripping him without touching.

“I’m the one who ordered you to take the medication.”

“….”

“You’re like this because I am largely at fault.”

A sliver of reason returned. Yeonwoo’s lips wobbled. Even in this situation, he’s trying to take responsibility. What kind of person is he? How could anyone not fall for someone like this? He forced his heavy eyelids open. His reddened, slick lips hovered right there. If he bit into them, would the thirst ease?

“It… itches. I want to… release.”

As Yeonwoo murmured such shameless words, Cheon Wooshin’s hand rose to hold his chin gently, pulling close. Yeonwoo’s thoughts dissolved again. A touch under his jaw tapped his focus into place, and that steady, coaxing voice followed.

“Seems the suppressant pulled your heat forward.”

Yeonwoo flinched. The depth in those dark eyes told him this wasn’t simply being looked at. It felt like staring into the eyes of a pure-blood hybrid—domination, primal and terrifying. No human had ever made him feel this way. Fear, confusion, and arousal tangled all at once.

“It’d be better to endure than take another drug.”

If he said so, then it must be right. Yeonwoo nodded sluggishly. The fur tuft atop his head pricked upright, then wilted flat.

“Then… would you… touch me? Please?”

His eager fingers still failed to unbuckle anything. Watching his useless attempts, Cheon Wooshin sighed softly.

“Good grief.”

He slowly stroked inside Yeonwoo’s trembling palm.

“U-ah.”

Even that faint touch made Yeonwoo crumble. Cheon Wooshin’s gaze softened—strangely sympathetic, almost pained.

“You really think you can handle this by yourself like this?”

His calm tone carried a quiet threat. No way. My team leader would never— Yeonwoo tried to deny it, but some instinct deep inside whispered danger.

A zip tore open. Yeonwoo gasped and looked down, shocked. Cheon Wooshin had already slipped his hand through the gap, lifting the damp fabric beneath.

Clinging cloth peeled from flushed skin with a sticky pull, like it might snap. The aroused flesh twitched with each rise and fall of his abdomen. The sight lay bare—shameless, vivid.

“D-Don’t look.”

He tried to push the hand away, but Cheon Wooshin caught his wrist. Only then did his gaze leave the swollen heat below, lifting lazily. A faint smile curled his lips. A night-blooming flower unfurled—silent, breathtaking.

“I’ll help you.”

His voice was impossibly gentle as it slipped into Yeonwoo’s ear.