A subtle buzz vibrated Nam-gyu’s phone, pulling him from his comfortable reverie. He glanced at the screen, his heart sinking as he saw the unfamiliar number. A text message, brief and explicit: "Heard you do strip shows again? Hit me up if you're available."

His breath hitched. The blood drained from his face as he stared at the message. He’d hoped that part of his life was buried deep, forgotten. He’d tried to forget it himself. He quickly stuffed the phone back in his pocket, hoping Thanos hadn't noticed his sudden shift.

But Thanos, with his sharp eyes and keen intuition, had noticed. "Who was that?" he asked, his voice low and dangerously calm. Nam-gyu swallowed nervously, the lie ready on his lips. "Just... a wrong number," he mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant.

Thanos raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A wrong number that made you look like you'd seen a ghost?" He plucked the phone out of Nam-gyu's pocket, his fingers moving with purpose as he scanned the message.

The room went cold. Nam-gyu watched, frozen, as Thanos' face hardened, the warmth replaced by a dark and volatile look he'd never seen before. It was a look that hinted at an untamed fury, a deep-seated possessiveness that sent a shiver down Nam-gyu's spine.

"You... you were a stripper?" Thanos' voice was a tight, choked whisper, the jealousy and anger radiating off him in waves. Nam-gyu couldn't lie, not with that look, not anymore. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "It was before... before us. It was something I did to get by. I don't do it anymore."

Thanos tossed the phone onto the coffee table, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. He stood, his movements sharp and deliberate, pulling Nam-gyu up with him. Before Nam-gyu could even react, he found himself pinned against the wall, Thanos' body a hard, unyielding presence against his.

"You were touching other people," Thanos hissed, his voice a dangerous growl. "Letting them look at you, touch you." Nam-gyu's breath hitched. He could taste the metallic tang of fear in his mouth. "It wasn't... like that. It was just a job, a way to make money."

Thanos' grip tightened on his arms, the pressure bordering on painful. "And you think I'm okay with that? With knowing that other hands have been on you? That other men have seen you like I do?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He pressed his mouth against Nam-gyu's, the kiss brutal and possessive, devoid of any tenderness. It was a punishment, a desperate attempt to reclaim what he felt was his. He forced Nam-gyu's mouth open, his tongue invading, demanding, taking.