He’s a Fox Ch 87

Chapter 87

“…So, you’re asking for his contact number?”

At Kangwoon’s incredulous question, Hohyun nodded meekly. Of everyone he knew, the only one likely to have Amur’s number was, naturally, Kangwoon. Who else would know how to reach a Westerner who lived in an entirely different region, if not his cousin?

Sure, Yuri was technically also Amur’s cousin—but the toddler didn’t even own a phone, so she was automatically out of consideration. After careful process of elimination, Hohyun came to Kangwoon, but his tiger only stared back at him in silence, expression unreadable.

Does he really not know…?

Then again, it wasn’t strange if even cousins didn’t exchange numbers. In modern times the old saying applied: “friends nearby are worth more than distant relatives.” Blood ties beyond second cousins hardly meant much closeness anymore.

But still, given how they spoke with each other, he didn’t think they were exactly distant either. In the past, Hohyun would have been anxiously second‑guessing himself, wondering if he’d said something wrong. But after all he and this predator had muddled through together—biting, kissing, clawing—such nervousness never came. Instead, a ticklish haze stirred inside him.

His lover and employer’s eyes were golden. Not the bright canary of spring blossoms or chick fluff, but a more subdued, deeper shade. Depending on the light, they flicked between pale brown and muted gold, that kind of color that seemed to trap him if he stared long enough. Slowly, Hohyun forgot what he’d even come to ask. A stray thought floated up.

Is this what Ihyeon meant by timing?

He remembered: the last time he’d drunk with Ye Ihyeon, his friend had grumbled over his breakup. “I only ever tried skinship when the mood was right, but she said I was too clingy and dumped me—how unfair!”

Back then, Hohyun hadn’t understood at all. What mood? What timing? He’d dismissed it as drunken ranting. But maybe… now, he was beginning to get it.

His eyes fixed vacantly on Kangwoon, and a small impulse coiled up. Swallowing dryly, he glanced around. No crocodile or cub in sight. No servants walking by. Almost like heaven itself had arranged privacy.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Kangwoon’s hand.

No embrace, no threaded fingers—just a plain handclasp. Yet his face glowed with smug triumph, as if he’d achieved something monumental. Kangwoon’s lips softened. So this was the grand move? The tiger leaned against the wall, tilting his head, voice low.

“That’s it? Nothing more?”

Encouragement disguised as teasing. The fox hesitated—then reached up high on tiptoe. Even so, the head taller tiger left only his chin within reach. A small kiss pressed there, awkward but earnest.

The tiger’s eyelids lowered. Perhaps pleased, he inclined his head downward, shadowing Hohyun under heavy lashes—a silent grant of permission. With grim determination, the fox stretched again. This time, his lips landed squarely, precisely where he wanted: against his lover’s mouth.

The instant the kiss began, Kangwoon’s lips slanted open slightly. Reflex from countless past encounters. But Hohyun clamped shut—unwilling to part in such an exposed hallway. Light kisses only. He pulled back reluctantly—only for his arm to be seized tight.

“You started a fire. Aren’t you going to put it out?”

The rumble of his voice rolled low, as dangerous as any growl he’d ever given. Gooseflesh prickled up Hohyun’s arms. The tiger pushed off the wall, sealed his mouth, and forced past.

Tongue swept deep. The fox groaned, tail bristling, every nerve rattled alive.

“Mmnh, ahh—”

The spark swelled to full flame, and Hohyun knew—he had no tools to stop it.

As he struggled to steady his breath, Kangwoon’s free hand—still left unused—slid up his back. Stroking low against his waist, fingertips pressing. Alarm jolted him. He darted his ears, hearing only silence. No one approaching. Lucky.

Yet the thought of what if left his chest hammering. He tried to push away with choked whimpers, but Kangwoon was unusually relentless. Only when his knees gave out, collapsing from lack of air, did the tiger finally relent.

“—Haaah—!” He drew breath in ragged coughs.

Kangwoon’s expression soured slightly, regret flickering. He hadn’t meant to push so far. Not now. But jealousy had crept under his skin—jealousy stoked the moment the fox asked, Can you give me Amur’s number?

Too close. Too many mentions. Why call him at all after he’s already given his thanks? Kangwoon scowled inwardly, burying the thought.

Then, he kissed him again.

By now, practice had trained the fox. He raised his arms and circled Kangwoon’s neck, pulling closer. Awkward, stiff, but learned—his lover’s coaching manifest. Strong arms wrapped him around the waist.

And then—Hohyun felt it.

Soft. Furred.

Wait. Furred?!

His eyes snapped wide open.

Kangwoon had shifted mid‑kiss. The man had changed, right there, while their mouths were still locked.

Who in the world mutates spontaneously during a kiss? Even if he posted the question online, he doubted any forum could answer…

While Hohyun stared dumbstruck, the tiger’s paw slid with deceptive casualness. Two claps at his belt—not uncertain, but deliberate. The buckle loosened, pants slackening, as a large, padded hand slipped past the waistband.

It wasn’t the first time—but it was different. The texture—thicker, grained, plush pads pressed against his most sensitive part. Not hands, but approximating true forepaws.

The fox gasped as his arousal jolted under the shocking difference. The tiger’s golden eyes gleamed sly as he rumbled: