Page 165 of Under Construction

Chris leans into the touch like it's his last lifeline. He hasn't mentioned the kidnapping once, as if being kidnapped didn’t even bother him, but he's barely let go of Dennis since the rescue—like Dennis might vanish if he loosens his grip for even a second.

Dennis leans in to press his lips against Chris's—they're dry, chapped, with a scab forming where they’d been split. Chris parts his lips and Dennis follows his lead, keeping the kiss gentle despite his pounding heart and desperate need to taste more of Chris. After everything he’s been through, Dennis won't risk hurting him.

But Chris has other ideas. He pushes harder, sliding one hand to Dennis's neck as he twists around for better access. His lashes flutter against Dennis's cheek while little sighs escape between their connected mouths. They kiss until they're both panting, then Chris shifts uncomfortably, his hardening cock pressing insistently against Dennis's inner thigh in the cramped space.

"What's wrong baby?" Dennis pulls back first, scanning Chris's face for signs of pain. His thumbs sweep over Chris's cheeks, checking for tender spots where bruises might be hiding.

"My dick hurts," Chris groans, rocking against Dennis's thigh like he can't help himself.

Dennis laughs softly, his heart full at how Chris wants him even now. He reaches down to wrap his fingers around Chris's cock, already plotting how to suck Chris into proper sleep. "Let's go take care of it, okay?"

Chris keeps chasing his mouth for more kisses until Dennis has to snort, tapping Chris's nose with a wet finger.

"One more," Chris mumbles, stealing another kiss. "Or I'll explode from wanting you so bad."

"I’ll make sure you do," Dennis teases, but gives him what he wants anyway.

56Smoke Screen

Their plans dissolve when they step out of the bathroom and find Dennis's phone lit up with a new message from the young guard's number:

L planning raid on Kim estate tonight. Says if can't find son will take someone else's. Smoke C out of his hole he said. Guards tripled, weapons packed. Moving in 3 hrs. Be careful hyung.

Dennis's hands shake as he forwards it to Isabelle. Within minutes, her footsteps sound on the stairs. They meet her halfway, Chris's grip tight in Dennis’s hand.

"Time to call your father," she says, holding out a burner phone. "Show him some goodwill, let him think you're reaching out first."

Chris nods once, jaw set. Dennis feels Chris's fingers tighten between his.

"You okay?" Dennis watches Chris punch in the numbers, his hand trembling. But Chris's face tells a different story—pure rage simmering under the surface.

"Yeah." Chris's voice clips short. "Let's get this shit done."

Four rings, then Christopher Lancaster's voice fills the line, smooth as oil:

"Running away just means the next time we bring you home, we'll use horse tranquilizers instead of chloroform. You're only making this harder on yourself."

Chris paces the length of the bedroom, phone on speaker. "Nice try, Dad. But how about leaving me the fuck alone? I'm not some kid you can push around anymore. When I join you, it'll be on my own terms."

His father's laugh isn’t unamused, but it’s indulgent in the way someone might sound if they don’t quite believe. "And when might that be, son?"

"Soon." Chris's eyes lock onto Dennis's across the room. "But get this through your thick skull—I'm half of you, always will be. And I'll never be your fucking lapdog."

"I must say, I'm impressed." His father's voice swells with pride that makes Dennis's skin crawl. "Taking out those guards while drugged? Organizing a contingency getaway? You truly are my son."

A pause, then: "What about your pretty architect?" Ice cubes clink against glass on the other end. "Will you handle that, ah, situation, or shall I?"

Dennis's anger flares hot in his gut, but Chris is next to him in a minute with fingers threaded through his, dousing the heat instantly.

"I've got everything under control," Chris says, each word confident. "He's agreed to sell his shares tomorrow evening. Public press conference, cameras everywhere—no room for mistakes. Consider it my show of faith."

The call ends. Chris drops the phone and turns into Dennis, letting out a shaky breath. Before either can speak, Dennis's phone buzzes.

Lancaster's number.

Dennis picks up immediately. "Christopher," Dennis answers, making his voice waver.

"Dennis." Lancaster breathes out heavily. "These absurd allegations in the press..." Another weighted exhale. "I hope you know I would never do anything—anything—to harm Kim Industries. To harm you."

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