Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

‘I’m really not looking for anything right now,’ Yunho had said to his husband, when he suggested spending what would have been a quiet Friday night in alone at Utopia having some fun. 

‘That’s when you always find something,’ Mingi replied with an irritating amount of confidence, before leaving for his now twice-weekly rendezvous with Hwanwoong. 

Yunho then sat looking at his overtime work for a stubborn two hours, moving student essays around and shuffling papers, tapping his pen against the side of the desk.

Around ten-thirty, he admitted defeat to the empty apartment, put on the first white shirt he laid hands on and drove across town. He didn’t think too hard about what he was wearing, didn’t do much more than run his hands through his hair. He wouldn’t give Mingi the satisfaction of knowing he had both gone out and made an effort.

Because he really wasn’t looking for anything right now. He was all for Mingi finding the time and the heart and the energy to give over to the pint-sized pretty dancer he’d met six months ago, who was also utterly besotted with him. But Yunho was overworked and underpaid at the private school where he worked and — while he sometimes missed the chase, the anticipation of all the firsts with a new person, first touch, first kiss, first time you noticed something about them you’d never appreciated before, like a glimpse of a collarbone or a mole on their cheek — he was also very happily married.

Why look for anything more, Yunho figured as he parked two blocks from the club, when he was already spread too thin?

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa were already by the bar. Yunho spotted the shock of red hair from the doorway. 

‘I’m driving,’ he said, waving away the drink Hongjoong offered him.

‘So you’re here for the ambience...’ Seonghwa remarked.

Yunho knocked shoulders with a tall, broad man with slicked-back hair who was squeezing past them, wearing a leather harness over nothing. It was too crowded in here, even for a Friday. Barely any room to pivot, let alone dance.

‘No, I’m here on orders.’ Yunho turned away to order himself something non-alcoholic, and abruptly felt someone spill their drink down his arm. ‘Ah, damn it...’

‘Oh no, I’m sorry,’ someone mumbled, slurring their words a little. ‘I’m sorry, let me... help you... I’m sorry...’ 

‘It’s fine, it won’t stain.’ Yunho tried to stop the man from fussing. He turned back to the bar searching for some napkins, and caught the man’s arm as he swayed dangerously. ‘Really, it’s fine.’ 

The man looked up at him through a thick wave of black hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated, red-eyed and desolate. It was hard to tell if he’d actually been crying or not, or whether he was just blackout drunk.

It was also hard to tell because Yunho found himself struck by... wow, just how striking the man was. His features, while a little blotchy and evidently streaked under the coloured lights, seemed to have been carved from pure marble.

Yunho let go of the man’s arm, and forgot momentarily how to speak before blurting out, ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. ... Are you okay?’ 

The man looked at him strangely, as if he’d forgotten why they were both standing there, the bass vibrating through their feet. He leaned heavily on the bar to retrieve the shot of vodka he’d left behind, and threw it back. Then leather harness reappeared with a possessive hand around the waist, leading him away from the bar and back into the crowd. 

Yunho shook out his soaked arm, and looked around to see Seonghwa frowning. 

‘Was he alright?’ Yunho asked, feeling strangely shaken. ‘I haven’t seen him here before.’ 

‘I don’t know who he is,’ Seonghwa raised his voice over the music, eyes on the dancefloor and his arm around Hongjoong. ‘But he’s not alright. The bar should have cut him off hours ago, he’s in a bad way.’

Yunho could just about see over the crowd. When he caught sight of the man again, he was dancing with — leaning against? — Leather Harness.

For some reason, he didn’t want to watch them for too long. 

‘Does he know him?’ he asked Hongjoong, indicating the two of them. 

‘I guess...’ Hongjoong shrugged, but Seonghwa was whispering something into his other ear, and Yunho could tell that he didn’t really register the question.

Oh well, he thought, as Hongjoong and Seonghwa dragged him onto the dance floor, having spotted Yeosang. It’s none of my business. 

*** 

Just after midnight, Yunho left the floor and checked his phone. Standing near the exit, under the glowing neon sign, he read a message from Mingi asking if it was okay if he didn’t come home tonight. 

Ofc, see you tomorrow xx, Yunho fired away, feeling a little like he might go home himself.

Now he wasn’t dancing anymore, now that he was lightly buzzed and near the exit and all the night’s former melancholy had gone, he felt more able to face the prospect of an empty apartment and a long weekend’s worth of marking. 

He caught Seonghwa’s eye, who waved, and then Yunho saw him again. 

If the man hadn’t lost his balance away, Yunho might have missed them entirely. If Yunho had been drinking, his senses might have been too dulled. But the sudden movement in his peripheral vision made him tense, and he turned to the exit just in time to see the man fall against the wall just inside the doorway. 

He’d pushed Leather Harness away so hard he ended up down on one knee across the floor, and he struggled up again with some difficulty. He was wearing black jeans and a black shirt; perfect obsidian.

‘I want... go home,’ Yunho heard him say.

The man’s voice was as unsteady as his feet. There was something childlike about the plea, and so starkly vulnerable it made something in Yunho’s chest judder and ache.

Leather Harness was unfazed, smiling. ‘Well come on then,’ he said, steering them both forcefully out of the doors. ‘I’ll take you home.’ 

The bouncers didn’t bother them, far more invested in keeping people out than keeping them in.

That someone was clearly in trouble was none of their concern. 

Before Yunho could question what he was doing, he left the club and realised with a jolt of panic that he couldn’t see where there two of them had gone.

It’s none of my business, he began to tell himself again, thinking about how easy it would be at this point to just call it a night and walk to his car, before shaking the idea away. No. No, it is my business. 

A few steps to his left, and Yunho saw them walking fast towards the alleyway running around the back of the building.

Too fast. 

Yunho picked up his pace, then broke into a jog. ‘Hey!’

As he caught up to them, he called again, louder this time, with more warning in his tone. ‘Stop!’ He circled around them, blocking their path. ‘Hey, I said stop.’

‘Keep jogging, man.’ Leather Harness said, sniffing, eyes blown wide with coke.

‘He’s wasted. He needs to be put in a cab home.’

‘That’s exactly where I’m taking him.’

‘I don’t think you are.’ 

‘And what are you going to do about it?’ 

If not for the drunk man’s arm slung around his shoulders, Yunho knew Leather Harness would have punched him already. Yunho had the height but Leather Harness was fuelled by coke and adrenaline, and truth be told Yunho would rather empty a bucket of iced water over his head than get into an actual brawl.

But hey, Leather Harness didn’t know that. Yunho sized them both up, assessed that he was taller, and made himself as big as possible. 

‘Walk away,’ he said in his lowest, roughest voice, hoping that he sounded a hell of a lot braver than he felt.

Because he felt like he was about to throw up.

‘What, do you know him or something?’ Leather Harness sneered.

‘Yes!’ Yunho replied, seizing upon the idea.

It had the desired effect, because Leather Harness suddenly seemed wrong-footed, like the idea of his prey being in possession of acquaintance, friends, or an identity took some of the fun out of all this.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Yunho put a steadying hand on the drunk man’s arm, whose head was lolling slightly onto his own shoulder. At the touch, the man seemed to regain some sentience. His eyes drifted open and he raised his head to look at Yunho with a questioning expression.

‘Hey you,’ Yunho said with a gentle smile, thinking Please just go with it. ‘Hey, remember me? You want to go home?’

The man looked at him uncomprehendingly for what felt like an age, then some flicker of recognition crossed his face. He murmured, ‘Home...’ then practically fell forward into Yunho’s arms. He was slight but clearly all muscle, and Yunho had to exert more strength than expected to keep him upright. 

Leather Harness made a strangled noise of contempt, then turned and stalked back towards the main road.

Yunho turned his attention to the man in his arms.

It was half past midnight and the wind had picked up. The man started shivering against him, turning his face into the shelter of Yunho’s shoulder, and Yunho had to take a moment to get ahold of himself. 

Home. You have to get him home. 

‘Hey,’ he tried again, knowing even as he said the words it would be useless. ‘Where do you live? Do you remember where you live? Hey? Can you tell me anything? Can you tell me your name?’

He might as well have been speaking another language for all the man seemed to understand him. The man only tried to further hide from the abrasive fall wind, and one of his legs gave out from under him. Yunho managed to get an arm under his shoulders, gripping one of his hands, but if the man passed out completely then he’d have to just carry him.

For a moment, he considered looking for the man’s wallet. But it was likely in one of his pockets, and Yunho felt uncomfortable with the idea of going through his clothes given the man had just endured a predator pawing at him for hours.

‘Okay,’ Yunho said out loud, more to order his thoughts than anything else.

There really were no other options. The best he could do was get the man to his car and drive him home; to his home.

‘Come on, this way,’ he said, taking a tentative step in the direction of his car.

Luckily, the man seemed amenable to Yunho’s plan, and managed to drag his feet in a similar direction. Going at a slow, zig-zag pace, it took them another twenty minutes to get to the car, where Yunho let the man sprawl across the back seats, praying he wouldn’t vomit. The smell never came out of car seats; it was a huge reason why he and Mingi had decided to defer talking seriously about having kids yet.

‘Are you alright?’ Yunho asked again when he was sat in the front seat.

When the man didn’t respond, Yunho figured he must have passed out, and started the engine.

Every so often, while driving, he checked on the man in the overhead mirror. The golden intermittent glow from the streetlights illuminated his face, and about five minutes from his apartment, Yunho was shocked to notice the man was not only awake, but weeping silently. 

Oh no. What he felt just then, a twist in his gut. That was a dangerous feeling. He paid it no attention and said nothing. His mouth was dry and his eyes were starting to burn with tiredness. This was far later, he realised, than he’d planned on staying out.

When they arrived at his building, it took a further ten minutes to coax the man out of the car. Reluctant to manhandle him anymore, Yunho crouched by the open door and resorted to a stream of promises as he held out his hand.

‘Come on, a few more steps and you can sleep, I promise. If you can walk a bit more, I’ll get you some water and you’ll be home, okay? You think you can do that? I promise you’ll be home if you can just walk a bit more.’

Eventually, the man levered himself up with some muffled sounds of discontent, and practically rolled out of the car. 

Yunho thanked god the elevator wasn’t out of order, and let out an exhale of relief as soon as he got the man inside the front door. Still unable to walk properly — how much had he had to drink? — the man gazed blearily around the hallway.

‘It’s okay, you can sleep here,’ Yunho said, worried he might panic in unfamiliar surroundings, like a new cat. ‘This is my apartment, but you can sleep here. Do you want some water?’ 

The man shook his head roughly, then turned his face onto Yunho’s shoulder again. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Yunho felt the man’s whole body relax against him. 

‘Woah okay, you’re tired. Come on. Just a few more steps, I promise.’

He walked the man to his bedroom and tipped him onto the bed, where he rolled over and went limp.

The wide shoulders were deceptive, Yunho observed. Not only was he a good few inches shorter than Yunho, he had lithe, slender legs and a tiny waist. Yunho made a mental note to try to get him to eat something in the morning, then decided he had nothing better to do, so went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He cut it into small pieces, and left it on a plate on the bedside table, next to a pint of water, a sachet of Dioralyte and some soluble painkillers. He then placed a grey washing up bowl on the floor next to the bed, in case the man woke up feeling sick and couldn’t locate the bathroom quickly enough. 

The man still hadn’t moved from where he’d collapsed, so Yunho decided it was probably okay — not too much of an invasion — to at least take off his black boots, setting them by the front door.

He considered the way the man had been shivering, and wondered if he should try to get him to sleep under the covers. There was a spare duvet cover somewhere, but that might be too thin, so covered the man with the blanket Mingi kept on the sofa.

In the brief time he’d been gone, the man had dragged one of his pillows to his chest, and appeared to have fallen asleep hugging it. His side profile was sharp, all harsh, straight lines. But there was something so horrifyingly sensual about the set of his mouth it made Yunho nauseous to think about what might have happened had he not intervened. 

There was only the one spare blanket, Yunho realised as he went into the front room and reluctantly eyed one of the couches. All the same, it didn’t seem safe to leave the man sleeping alone. What if he did vomit and ended up choking? What if he woke up and panicked, not knowing where he was? What if the shivering was a symptom of alcohol poisoning? 

In the end, Yunho sat in the chair by the bedroom window, resolving to keep an eye on the man for the majority of the night.

Around five am, the man made some muted whimpering sounds in his sleep, like he was having a bad dream. Yunho jerked himself fully awake and waited, eyelids heavy, agonising over whether to wake him or not, until the man went quiet again. Only then did Yunho manage to fall asleep himself.

*** 

Everything hurt. That was the first thing Yunho registered when he blinked awake, light streaming through a gap in the curtains. Everything hurt, but especially his neck, his shoulders... No, everything, it was everything.

Yunho groped for his phone and saw it was 10:46. With sudden recollection of why he was sat in agony in a chair by the bedroom window, he stood up and noted with surprise that the man in his bed was still asleep.

He took a closer look, to check the man was still breathing. But he seemed fine, unmoving and hugging his pillow. Eyeliner was smudged under his eyes and his lips were slightly parted, breathing heavily, as if even in sleep he was exhausted. He was still here, sleeping soundly, safe. That was all that mattered. 

Yunho pulled the blanket a little further up the man’s shoulder and went for a shower. He was glad to wash the sweat off him, put on clean clothes and stretch out some of the tension in his knotted shoulders. When he emerged from the bathroom, he looked to the bedroom and saw movement, as the man seemed to be stirring and rubbing his eyes.

Nervous suddenly, Yunho gave him some privacy and retreated to the kitchen to make some coffee. They would both need it. He wasn’t really sure what the etiquette was in this situation, other than just trying to provide anything the man needed. Coffee was probably a good start. 

Shaking out his still-wet hair, Yunho went to the doorway and called softly, ‘Do you want —?’

That was about as far as he got before the man — now sat on the edge of the bed — vomited spectacularly into the grey washing-up bowl clutched in his lap.

‘It’s okay!’ For whatever reason, Yunho’s instinctive reaction was to rush forwards, hurrying down the hallway to sit next to him and make sure his hair was off his face. ‘It’s okay.’

The man’s hair was stiff with sweat and product. He coughed, shaking miserably and grimacing through what was undoubtably a shocking headache. He retched a couple more times, but his stomach seemed to be empty.

‘I’m sorry,’ the man said, taking deep breaths. He made to glance at Yunho, but reddened and averted his eyes instead, rocking backwards and forwards as he waited for the nausea to pass.

‘It’s fine. Have some water.’ Yunho reached past him and placed the glass in his hand. ‘Put the Dioralyte in when you’ve drunk a little, and some painkillers when you think you’re not going to be sick again. It’ll make you feel better.’

The man nodded contritely, taking small sips.

Yunho opened the sachet for him, popped out a couple of the pills, and the man drank them all down while Yunho took the washing-up bowl to the kitchen and emptied it out, returning with a mug of black coffee. 

‘Do you remember getting here?’

The man nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes. ‘I remember... most of it.’ He laid eyes on the mug of coffee and his expression seemed to crumple, bottom lip trembling as he tried to hide most of his face behind his thick fringe. He whispered, ‘I’m so embarrassed.’ 

‘Oh no, don’t be.’ Yunho resisted the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder. ‘Everyone drinks a bit too much sometimes. My husband has done the same a few times, trust me.’ 

It didn’t seem to help.

‘I should go,’ the man said, trying to stand and abruptly sitting back down holding his forehead.

‘At least have a shower, clean yourself up. You’ll feel a lot better. You can use any of the stuff in the bathroom and borrow a shirt. We even have a spare toothbrush.’ 

The man didn’t seem to have the energy to resist, so ended up wordlessly doing as he was told.

Yunho walked him to the bathroom with some towels and a clean shirt, and hurriedly cleared away everything else from the night before. The man probably wouldn’t be able to manage a sandwich, but maybe some fruit would be okay. He surveyed the fridge and found one of Mingi’s bottled smoothies.

When the man came out, Yunho was sat at the dining table drinking his second coffee.

He looked up, and suddenly couldn’t remember what he’d been going to say. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed the man was attractive. Of course he’d noticed that. But under the circumstances, it just didn’t seem to matter. Now though, Yunho realised that the man who was now standing in the kitchen doorway – hair dripping wet and wearing one of his shirts – must be the most physically beautiful man he had ever met in real life.

No longer blotchy, the man’s skin was tanned and flushed from the steam. And he had the most exquisite mouth Yunho had ever seen.

These kinds of thoughts hadn’t seemed appropriate last night and they sure as hell weren’t appropriate now. ‘Do you feel any better?’ he asked, like a normal human being. ‘You should try to drink a smoothie if you don’t feel up to eating.’ 

The man nodded, holding his neatly-folded pile of towels. ‘I do feel a little better,’ he said quietly. Then he turned away and burst into tears. 

Standing up from the table, Yunho went to him, took the towels out of his hands and sat him down. His chest felt tight and bizarrely, the sight of the man crying almost made him want to cry himself. It wasn’t easy, to watch someone so beautiful be unhappy. 

‘I’m so sorry I’ve been so much trouble,’ the man choked out, burying his face in his hands. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.’ 

‘I’m not being nice,’ Yunho almost laughed and thought better of it, patting the man’s back. ‘I’m just doing what anyone else would have done.’

The man looked at him, all tears and raw nerves. It was as if he didn’t have the emotional layers other people had. He was no surface, all feeling. ‘No one else did though,’ he said.

They looked at each other until Yunho felt something inside him clench, and looked away. ‘It was no problem helping you out. You had a bad night, got into a bit of trouble, it happens to everybody.’ 

‘It was stupid.’ The man shook his head, warming his hands around a mug of coffee but not drinking it. ‘I’m so stupid, I probably deserved it.’

‘Hey, don’t say that!’ Yunho snapped with a little more force than he meant to. ‘It’s not true, so don’t say that. You didn’t deserve it, no one deserves to have bad things happen to them just because they drink too much.’ 

The man rubbed his forehead, and drank some of the smoothie to appease him. The tears had stopped coming for the moment, but he still looked thoroughly dejected. ‘I think I lost my phone,’ he sighed. 

‘It’s okay, I know the guys who run the club, I’ll give them a call —’

‘No.’ The man stood up. ‘I’ll find a cab and go over there. I really should go.’ 

Yunho followed him as he went to the hallway to put on his boots. ‘Are you sure I can’t drive you somewhere?’ 

‘No, please.’ It seemed like the man could only look at him for a moment. ‘You don’t need to do anything else for me. Thank you for... I’m sorry.’ 

In that moment, Yunho thought he might have said or done anything to try to make him smile, or make him stay a little longer. But then the man left, still wearing his blue striped shirt, and Yunho realised too late that neither of them even knew the other’s name. 

***

Five days passed before Yunho found the iPhone on the floor in the back of his car.

He didn’t know why his initial reaction was guilt. Maybe it was because he thought of the man going back to Utopia, retracing his steps and finding nothing, when his phone had been here the whole time. Maybe it was because for the last five days, Yunho had been able to convince himself he hadn’t been thinking about him. 

He took the phone up to the apartment and plugged it into his charger. The screen lit up and notifications rolled in. Missed calls from several numbers. A lot of messages. To Yunho’s surprise, the phone had no passcode or security. He swiped the screen and was right in. 

Mingi appeared in the doorway, having heard him come home. ‘What’s that?’ 

‘Nothing.’ Yunho almost dropped the phone, then felt ridiculous. ‘Sorry. It’s just, you know that guy I told you about from the club? I found his phone in the car. It must have fallen out of his pocket or something, I’m gonna try and get it back to him.’ 

‘Oh, that guy.’ Mingi folded his arms and seemed to be repressing a smirk.

‘What?’ 

Mingi just smiled a little wider. His smile was part of what had made Yunho fall in love with him five years earlier; he was one of the only people he’d ever met who smiled with his whole face, almost transforming himself into a completely different person.

He was also capable of using it in a way that was supremely annoying... 

‘What?’ Yunho repeated.

‘Oh nothing. You mean, the guy you brought back here?’ 

Yunho felt like a trap was being laid. ‘Yeah. The one I told you about.’ 

‘The guy you’ve mentioned every day since?’ 

Yunho pretended to be absorbed in going through Recents, looking for a number to call. ‘It hasn’t been every day.’ 

‘I don’t think you’ve realised you’re doing it, that’s why it’s funny.’ Mingi looked him up and down and Yunho tried to ignore it. ‘So you’re going to see him again, then?’ 

He felt himself redden. ‘I’m going to give his phone back, that’s what I said.’ 

‘So you are going to see him again. Interesting. And, just to confirm, this is also the same guy you’ve been pretending not to think about every time we’ve had sex this week?’ 

‘Wow!’ Yunho coughed, putting the phone down as if to make a point. ‘That’s not even... It wasn’t like that, I’m just trying to do a nice thing! And why are you standing there, don’t you have work to do? Why would you say that?’ 

‘Because I know you! Why are you standing there acting like I can’t tell when you suddenly have a crush on someone? I know it's been a while, but I still remember how it goes.’ 

Yunho selected the number that had called the most times – Work – and called it back.

As he waited for someone to pick up, Mingi went quiet and fixed himself an espresso, like he always did when planning to stay up into the early hours. 

Eventually, a man’s voice answered the call. ‘Form and Mind Martial Arts Centre, how can I help you?’

‘Err, hi. I’ve actually found someone’s lost iPhone and this number has called a few times. Do you know who it might belong to?’ 

‘Oh!’ the man exclaimed. ‘San! He’s teaching evening classes at the moment but he’ll be here until half ten if you can drop it over? He’ll be so happy, he’s been calling it all week.’ 

San. His name was San. 

The name felt warm to him somehow, like it emanated its own light and heat. 

‘Right, sure. I’ll be right there.’ 

Yunho ended the call and for a second his thumb hovered over the Message tab. He had only seen one, by accident, when it appeared at the forefront of the screen. “Please stop calling me, I...” But Yunho resisted the urge to read as quickly as it had come. As much as the memory of the man’s brief appearance in his life fascinated him, Yunho couldn’t fathom committing such a violation for the sake of his own curiosity. 

He looked up and Mingi was leaning against the side, sipping his espresso. All trace of mockery was gone. ‘Did you find him?’

It felt like an admission. ‘Yeah, I’m going to take the phone to this martial arts centre. Form and Mind?’

Mingi smiled more softly and said, ‘You know, I wouldn’t mind. You’ve been really stressed out lately.’ 

‘I’m happy,’ Yunho replied, putting the phone in his pocket and touching Mingi’s shoulder. 

‘I’m happy too.’ Mingi covered Yunho’s hand with his. ‘I don’t think you’re unhappy. I’m just saying it could be good for you.’ 

‘I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,’ Yunho said as he went to grab his coat.

‘See, I really don’t think I am,’ Mingi remarked as he left the apartment.

***

Rather than hand the phone over to the stranger behind the desk, Yunho chose to wait in the lobby until the Adult’s Taekwon-Do Class finished at ten-thirty.

There were photos all over the walls, of groups with their various teachers. He tried not to appear like he was looking too closely, or like his heart rate sped up when he saw one that depicted San, smiling with a group of young kids.

He’d had an idea of what the man’s smile might have looked like, but he was unprepared for the reality. San’s smile was as luminous and innocent as the children surrounding him. Very small, straight teeth and... did he have dimples too?

Yunho almost gave the phone to the man at the desk and left the building. There was no reason to be this nervous. He took a seat and tried not to fidget. He was going to give the phone back and that was it. That really would be it. No logical reason for him and this man to have any contact after this, no matter what Mingi was speculating.

When the doors to the side of the lobby opened and people started leaving their class, Yunho was so caught up in overthinking he didn’t even realise someone was trying to get his attention, until that someone was stood right in front of him.

Yunho stood up a little too fast. 

‘Hello again.’ The man — San — was flushed and dressed in a dobok. His hair was held back with a sweatband and his eyes were clear and bright.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t find it sooner.’ Yunho fished the phone out of his pocket. ‘I didn’t even think it might have ended up in the car.’ 

‘No, I’m sorry! I’ve been such a nuisance to you.’ San shook his head. ‘You didn’t have to drive far, did you? I still have your shirt, but it’s not with me, it’s at my apartment.’ 

‘It’s fine, it was only twenty minutes.’ As Yunho handed the phone over, he felt San’s fingers brush against his. ‘You can bring me the shirt anytime.’ 

‘I did try finding you,’ San said, eyeing the phone with unease before clasping it in both hands, as if hiding the screen from himself. ‘But I couldn’t remember where you lived, and then I tried going back to the club and I didn’t even know your name. So I asked the people there where I could find a guy who was tall with dark hair...’ He laughed, a shrill giggle that came as a surprise. ‘I ended up saying, He looks kind, because that’s all I really knew about you. Of course they didn’t know who I was talking about, it was so vague... I felt so stupid.’ 

Yunho wondered if he always talked this fast, or whether he was nervous too.

‘It’s Yunho,’ he said, trying to make the following words sound casual. ‘It’s fine about the shirt, just take my number and you can give it back anytime. Or keep it, I really don’t mind.’ 

Keep it? For fuck’s sake, who says that? He doesn’t want to keep your shirt. 

Yunho took San’s phone and typed in his number, glad that it gave him an excuse to keep his eyes averted, glad that it let them touch again, as he passed it back to San.

‘I should go,’ he said, before he could embarrass himself much more. 

‘Wait!’ San exclaimed, catching his arm. ‘Please, have you eaten? Please let me say thank you, you’ve gone so out of your way for me. I’ll feel terrible if you just leave without me buying you a drink, some food, or anything.’ 

It took an inhuman amount of self-control not to look at the hand resting on his arm. It brought back a sudden, visceral memory of how San had felt leaning against him. Then the guilt, that he should be thinking of such a traumatic, vulnerable moment like that. 

‘Okay,’ he said, before he could find a million reasons not to.

‘Great.’ San beamed. ‘Please, just wait here. I need to change, I’ll be five minutes.’ 

As he disappeared into the changing rooms, Yunho looked at his phone and pondered sending a message to Mingi to tell him he was staying out for a bit, and that he’d been right.

But in the end he didn’t send anything. Mingi would look at the time and know he’d been right without Yunho having to say anything. 

*** 

They walked to a place nearby that San said did the best fried chicken and beer, and sat at a table by the window. San had changed into a black tank top and sweatpants that made the shape of his arms look obscene, but seemed remarkably unaware of his appeal. 

‘I should explain...’ San said suddenly, after they had talked about TV and music for a while.

Yunho anticipated another apology. ‘You don’t have to explain anything.’ 

‘No, I want to.’ San frowned, brushing his hair out of his face and fiddling with his fringe in what seemed like an anxious habit. ‘I don’t usually drink that much. I actually can’t, I don’t hold my alcohol very well. I don’t want you to think I usually do that kind of thing.’ 

‘It’s none of my business if you do.’ 

‘It’s just... I was seeing someone. Well no, I was with someone for a while and we broke up, a couple of months ago. For some reason that night, I wasn’t dealing with it very well.’ He took a breath. ‘I think I’m fine now. I just got it in my head that I should get back out there, do something that single people do. And it turns out, maybe I’ve forgotten how to be single. As soon as I went out I wished I hadn’t.’ 

‘I think that’s normal.’ Yunho thought about the partial message he’d seen. Please stop calling me, I... ‘I actually didn’t want to go out that night either.’ 

‘Well, I’m glad you did.’ San laughed shakily, then took a bite of chicken and brightened himself up. He ate ravenously, for someone so skinny. ‘You said you’re married?’ 

‘Oh.’ A little wrong-footed, Yunho found himself twisting his wedding ring around his finger. ‘Yes, I am. Five years now. Well, we’ve been together five years. Married for three.’ 

‘That must be really nice.’ San smiled sweetly, in a way that made it impossible not to smile too. Yunho couldn’t believe how distant it seemed, seeing him crying uncontrollably at his kitchen table. ‘He must be a really nice person.’ 

‘Yeah, he is.’ 

‘Was he there that night? Did I meet him and just don’t remember? I hope I didn’t embarrass myself in front of him too...’ 

‘No, he was out.’ Yunho hesitated, then thought, What the hell. ‘That’s why I was out, actually. He was on a date night with this guy he’s been seeing for a while, and he thought I should do something other than work late like I always do. We have an open relationship.’ 

‘Wow...’ San’s eyes widened. ‘That’s amazing. You must really trust each other.’ 

‘It’s never really felt like a trust issue,’ Yunho said, truthfully. ‘Maybe that’s why it works. We’ve always thought that honesty and independence are the most important things, so it never occurred to us to do anything different. We tell each other everything, so it’s never felt difficult.’

‘You never get jealous?’

‘Maybe I get jealous sometimes. But I get more jealous over his job than anyone else he’s seeing. He’s a lawyer, so he works a lot.’ 

San was watching him the whole time he was talking, head inclined and resting on his hand, as if he was fascinated. Out of nowhere, Yunho was attacked by the stunning image of what he might look like gazing up at him while pinned down, what his delicate wrists might feel like gripped in his hands.

Their eyes met and a flicker of similar intensity crossed San’s face, as if he somehow knew what Yunho was thinking. 

He thought of the way San had said, He looked kind.

But he wouldn’t think that now, Yunho thought, faintly disgusted with himself. Not if he did know...

Yunho finished his beer and stood up. ‘I should be getting back, it’s really late. This was nice though, thanks.’ 

‘Should I call you?’ San asked innocently. ‘About the shirt, I mean?’ 

‘Yeah...’ Yunho felt like he wanted to say something else, but had no idea what it was. ‘Yeah, call me anytime. About the shirt. No rush. Are you okay getting home?’ 

San smirked. ‘I think I can make it home by myself this time.’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Yunho blushed. ‘Obviously. Sorry. See you around. I mean, bye. Thanks.’

Smooth, he thought as he walked to his car, the backs of his ears burning. 

The whole drive home Yunho felt like his skin was abrasive and ill-fitting somehow, like he wanted to crawl out of it. When he let himself into the apartment it was almost one am. He let his coat and his shirt drop to the floor and crawled into bed, feeling for Mingi in the darkness. 

‘Sorry to wake you up,’ he breathed, when Mingi stirred, found his lips and then the front of his own jeans, realising he was already hard. ‘Just tell me if you want to sleep. I just need you, I just... need...’ 

He felt Mingi laugh gently, as Yunho drew their hips together, legs wound around each other like ivy. He said, ‘I really missed this side of you...’ 

***

02:06: 

Hi, it’s San!
I thought you might like to know I got home okay
I was thinking if you’re planning to be at Utopia again, I can bring your shirt then? 

Hey!
Sure
Does Saturday work? 

Works for me
It will be nice to see you again :) 

Me too
I mean you too!
I mean it’d be nice to see you again too 

ᄏᄏᄏ 

I also wanted to say thank you for not looking through my phone 

No problem, of course I wouldn’t

Wait, how do you know I didn’t? 

I know you didn’t because you’re not that type of person :)

See you on Saturday
Sorry to be bothering you again so late 

I don’t mind
You don’t bother me 

08:22: 

Hey, I was thinking

(sorry about the double text)

(and it’s early, sorry) 

Instead of the club, we could go somewhere we can talk some more

Maybe even during the day for a change

You’re probably busy, no worries if not 

No, I’d love that! That sounds great :) 

*** 

By the time he managed to palm the kid’s field trip off onto the second chaperone, drive halfway across the city, shower, change clothes, and message San multiple times — Running late, I’ll be an hour. Actually make that two, the second chaperone is awol. I’m so sorry, I can’t get away, will you still be free at six? Okay I’m coming now. I’m leaving the apartment now, I promise I’ll meet you there at half six — Yunho was stressed and sweating and already writing the whole day’s plans off as a misguided disaster.

His phone had run out of battery and he hadn’t planned on taking the car, in case he wanted to unwind and maybe have a drink at the bar where they were meeting, so he had to take the subway, which was rammed with tourists and day-trippers.

He emerged from the station and practically jogged the rest of the way. He was going to make it, just! But it was probably too late now, after he’d messed San around for most of the afternoon. Men who looked like that tended not to tolerate being messed around. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have other options. He would probably have already left.

Anyhow, this wasn’t a date. San was only bringing his shirt back. Yunho didn’t know why he’d allowed himself to hype it up like this, just because every time he’d looked at his phone for the last few days he found himself grinning absurdly at some message or another San had sent him.

The bar came into sight and Yunho slowed to a walk. He went straight to the door, looked around the inside and realised — his heart dropping — that San wasn’t here. He did a lap of the place, just to be sure. But San’s image was so burned into his mind’s eye by now. He knew he’d be able to find him in a crowd. He definitely wasn’t here.

Shit. 

Yunho went back outside. He considered having a drink for a hell of it, to take the edge off his disappointment, but the idea seemed somehow even more depressing.

‘Hi! Hey!’

San was stood up, waving at him from one of the outdoor tables.

In the dying light, Yunho’s eyes had glazed right over him. He was wearing an elegant black coat tied at the waist, and a brown scarf pulled tight around his neck and chin. He looked startlingly different.

Yunho almost fell into another table in his hurry to reach him. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, I forgot about the field trip and it was a nightmare getting away. I thought I’d be able to leave after lunch but then the other chaperone was late and it was just me so I couldn’t leave them. And then my phone died...’

‘You don’t have to apologise.’ San smiled. ‘I would’ve bought you a drink but I didn’t know what you wanted.’ 

‘Anything,’ Yunho replied without thinking about it, then rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry, it’s been a day. Work is crazy, even my time off isn’t time off. It’s a boarding school so I’m expected to be on call for these kids all the time. You don’t care about that, sorry...’ 

‘What do you want to drink?’ San asked, like Yunho wasn’t acting like a crazy person.

Yunho took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. ‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’

‘I’m only drinking Pepsi.’

‘In that case, maybe just a... scotch.’

‘Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.’ San touched his arm on his way past.

Yunho was so agitated, stress levels still so high, he couldn’t even sit down. Instead, he leaned against the wall and switched on one of the outdoor heaters. The bar had filled up inside, but aside from a couple of guys smoking under the other heater, the outdoor seating was empty. 

When San returned, the sun was almost fully gone, and everything was cast into a warm, slightly copper glow. The music playing inside the bar hummed reassuringly through the wall. 

‘Do you like your job?’ San asked, the tip of his nose going pink. 

‘I don’t know.’ Yunho paused, rolling the scotch around his mouth and feeling it warm his throat and chest. He was surprised the answer came out so easily. He hadn’t broached this subject with Mingi yet. ‘I used to. But now I’m starting to think it’s not what I got into teaching for.’ 

‘Would you ever quit?’

‘Maybe. I don’t want to let the kids down.’

‘But if you’re not happy?’ 

‘I don’t know if there are more important things, than me being happy.’ Yunho felt the heater switch off, and turned it back on. His hands were unsteady. ‘If I leave, they could end up with a teacher who doesn’t care about anything but exams. Not about them enjoying anything, learning for the sake of learning. Just following the rules, sucking the fun out of everything, not learning about the arts or music or sports or anything that lets them be creative.’ 

He realised at some point during his outpouring, he had finished the scotch far too quickly. He realised, because San took the empty glass out of his hand and placed it on the nearest table next to the Pepsi.

His fingers were freezing. 

‘I think, if it’s making you unhappy, you should leave.’ San fixed him with a direct look. He oscillated between fast-talking anxiety, and what seemed like an unassailable confidence. ‘You have no idea how many times I wish someone had told me that, about many situations.’ 

‘Is that your way of saying you’re cold and want to go inside?’ 

He laughed, which made Yunho feel some kind of way because he didn’t think it was that funny. ‘No, I’m actually fine out here.’ 

As San adjusted and re-tied his coat, Yunho’s eyes dropped to his collar — the glimpse of collarbone — and suddenly he didn’t notice the cold anymore. He met San’s eyes but his gaze dropped to his chest again, like trying to haul a bucket of water up with slippery hands. 

San’s expression was inscrutable. 

‘Are you...?’ Yunho couldn’t finish the sentence in one breath. He felt dizzy, as he nudged aside the lapel of San’s coat with his knuckles. ‘Is that my shirt?’ 

It was like his brain short-circuited. Whatever the implications of this were — that’s my shirt, he’s wearing my fucking shirt — Yunho knew he was spending entirely too much time staring at San’s chest. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? He was barely breathing, and he was still holding the lapel of San’s coat between his fingers. He didn’t know what the fuck to say but he had to say something, anything... 

‘Maybe I’m being presumptuous.’ It was San spoke who first, and when Yunho met his eyes again he seemed much closer than before, cheeks red from the cold or maybe for some other reason. But Yunho couldn’t read his expression or anything else for that matter because he was consumed by the idea of taking the lapel of the coat in his fist and... ‘I just wanted to know if I was imagining... this or not, I guess. I’m sorry if this is too forward.’ 

‘This...?’ Yunho exhaled as he saw San’s eyes drop to his lips. 

He let go of the coat, feeling too aggressive suddenly and telling himself, This isn’t a good idea. But San stepped into the space left behind, and Yunho realised all at once that he didn’t care if this was a good idea or not.

‘Maybe I was imagining it but I just... I just felt, something.’ San’s voice was faint. 

He was so much shorter than Yunho that he had to tilt his head up to look at him, and Yunho felt like he was suspended over a steep drop by a sliver of tense, trembling rope. 

Somehow, his fingers had found the lapel of San’s coat again but this time he gripped a little tighter, and it didn’t feel like an action so much as surrender, with San’s lips upturned to him like an offering. When they brushed against his — for only a moment, before pulling back — Yunho felt the drop, the tension severed, as if he was slammed back into his own body from a great height. 

His hand climbed from San’s lapel to his face, two fingers resting on his perfect jawline and two on his neck, where he could feel San’s pulse racing. He chased San’s lips and found them again, kissing him so softly he thought he might just dissolve with the restrained force of everything else he wanted to do.

Because what he wanted didn’t matter. He knew — sure as he knew that he would do anything to make this man smile — that whatever San wanted from him, what he needed was to be handled as gently as possible. 

Yunho’s other hand came up to cup the back of his head, scratching at the base of his hairline, and San let out a small sigh as he kissed him back just as carefully. The air between them grew warm and his mouth was sweet and everything about him was passionate and breakable, like his every cell was crying out to be loved.

San took a breath, holding onto Yunho’s wrists, his eyes closed as if he was trying to hold them both inside this moment for as long as he could, and when he opened them Yunho thought he saw something like fear in them; a plea. Please don’t hurt me. God, please don’t hurt me. 

Yunho wasn’t sure what to say, so he hugged him instead, like he’d wanted to that first morning. 

When they finally took a step back from each other, San looked as dazed as Yunho felt. It was as if something seismic had taken place, the very foundations of the Earth rearranging itself beneath their feet. He didn’t want this evening to end. He could still feel the lightness of San’s touch resting on his lips like a promise and he didn’t want this evening to end.

San seemed to read his mind. ‘I was actually hoping we could go for dinner somewhere,’ he said, bashful all of a sudden, shoving his hands in his pockets and hiding the lower half of his face in his scarf. ‘Somewhere we could talk properly. Or we could go see a movie or something, and talk after?’ 

‘Me too. I only suggested this place to look cool.’ Yunho laughed. ‘How about both? We could do both.’ 

***

They were among the last ones in the restaurant. The staff started to clear tables and Yunho knew they should leave soon. He even kept saying, ‘We should leave soon.’ But the statement would go ignored and they’d start talking about something else. 

San had pulled his chair in, sat as far forwards as possible so he was never more than a foot away across the table. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night, finishing an espresso while Yunho was back on the scotch. 

‘So when did this start?’ Yunho asked, when he felt just silly enough to talk about it directly.

‘When did what start?’ 

‘This.’ Yunho tweaked the collar of his own shirt, which made San sit back and blush fiercely.

‘There’s no point being coy about it now!’ 

‘I don’t know.’ San caught his fingers for a moment, maintaining eye contact as he gave them a brief stroke, then let him go. 

‘You’re trying to distract me.’ Yunho nudged his ankle under the table. ‘You do know.’ 

San pulled at the shirt as if fanning himself, seemingly unaware of the effect it had on Yunho seeing his own sleeves rolled up over San’s forearms, the dark blue stripes against his clavicle

‘Okay,’ San said, ‘you know how I said I wasn’t good at being single? Well, when you stopped by to give me my phone, I saw you sitting there waiting for me, and I thought about how kind you were with me... Everything you’ve done. I suddenly thought, Don’t let him leave. I thought... if there was any time to get used to being single, this has to be someone worth acting single for.’ 

The words crept up Yunho’s body like a pleasant tingle. ‘Really?’

‘No one’s ever been so nice to me.’ San laughed, though Yunho had quickly stopped smiling. ‘And when you said you had a husband it... even upset me then. I got jealous, not because I was thinking about this that morning but because... It felt so unfair, that some people get to feel like this all the time. And some people never get to...’ 

‘Maybe it feels like that because you’ve recently had a breakup. You can only remember the bad things.’ 

San shook his head, still resolutely smiling. ‘No. A friend of mine said there are two types of people, the type men want to fuck and the type men fall in love with, and I guess I’m just the former. But that’s still something, isn’t it. It doesn’t always feel good but it’s still something. It’s still love, in a way. Because they’re still there.’ 

It was almost a physical pain, listening to him talk so frankly about something so sad and so wrong. Yunho reached to take his hand and noticed one of the waiting staff disinfecting the table next to theirs. 

‘We should go,’ he said, meaning it this time. 

They took the subway towards his apartment, after San suggested they watch a movie they’d been talking about. One block from his building, San took his hand, rubbing it between his cold fingers to try to warm them up, and didn’t let go.

Their breath misted in front of their faces.

Yunho interlinked their fingers and took a couple of steps so San was backed into the wall of the parking lot. He held San’s face in his hands and kissed him until he ran out of breath, suddenly wary of what might happen — what he so desperately wanted to happen — once San was inside his apartment and had taken off his coat.

‘Look,’ he said, keeping ahold of San’s hands, ‘I want you to know that just because I’m inviting you back it doesn’t mean I’m expecting anything. I don’t want to rush this, so I won’t touch you tonight or do anything you don’t want. Alright?’ 

Yunho had more faith in his word, now he’d said it out loud. He tried not to notice the way San was looking at him as he nodded; like Yunho had single-handedly put the moon and stars in the fucking sky. 

Once inside, San accepted the offer of one glass of red wine, then walked around asking questions about Mingi; what things in the apartment were his, what he liked and what he didn’t, what his sense of humour was like. ‘I want to meet him,’ San said, sounding entranced by the image building in his head. ‘He sounds so amazing.’ 

He sat on the couch with his feet tucked under Yunho’s thigh, and even that proximity was enough to make sure Yunho didn’t retain one bit of information about the film. Some murder mystery, maybe? San said he liked those. 

At one point San shifted forwards, slinging his knees across his lap. Consequently, Yunho spent the next forty-five minutes thinking about San’s legs, because they were the only part of him close enough to touch. He thought about running his hand along the underside of his calf, what the skin on the inside of his thigh would taste like if he kissed or bit him there, what he would look like with both legs hiked up onto Yunho’s hips, or over his shoulders... 

‘Are you hot?’ San asked, interrupting the movie to playfully feel Yunho’s brow.

Yunho looked at him, aware he was breathing too hard. 

San’s smile dispersed like smoke. He returned the look, eyes aflame with some kind of violence, and an expression of such naked hunger that Yunho felt the impact in his gut, like he’d been hit with a vehicle. 

A second passed, maybe two, then San put his glass to one side and climbed fully into his lap.

Yunho rested his hands on the most neutral territory he could find — the small of San’s back — as San draped himself onto Yunho’s body and dripped kisses into his mouth with an intensity that made him lightheaded. He tasted of wine. His hands were on Yunho’s chest, then in his hair — 

‘Wait,’ Yunho breathed, opening his eyes, ‘I said I wouldn’t.’ 

‘But if I want this...?’ San found his wrists and pinned them on either side of him. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all night.’

Yunho eyed San’s grip on him.

Without exerting a lot of effort, Yunho freed his wrists — making San smile — and pulled him in to kiss once again. ‘We won’t be doing anything like this,’ he whispered, as he suddenly gathered San up and lay him gently down on the couch. 

It only took San catching his breath — as he realised he couldn’t move, that now it was his own wrists pinned down above his head — that told Yunho he’d likely never been put in this position before. 

‘It’s okay,’ Yunho said, allowing himself to inhale the scent of San’s skin where his shirt was falling open at the neck, ‘I said I wouldn’t touch you.’ 

San relaxed beneath him, opening his mouth to meet Yunho’s tongue with his own. He made a delighted humming sound in the back of his throat, as if trying to invite him in deeper. Yunho let go of his wrists to hold his face, run his thumb over his lower lip and onto San’s tongue, who flinched with an involuntary shiver, as he closed his eyes, sucked on his thumb and then two of his fingers. 

Yunho pressed his lips against San’s ear to exhale, ‘So good, baby. You’re so good,’ and felt San flinch again, suck on his fingers a little harder. 

Interesting... 

He removed his fingers, took ahold of San’s hair with his fist as tenderly as he could, and tipped his head back to kiss his exposed neck.

It was then that San’s hands slid downwards, searching for Yunho’s skin under his shirt. 

Yunho immediately drew back, took his wrists and placed them firmly back above his head.

‘Why not?’ San looked at him pleadingly, pouting. 

‘Because I said how this was going to go. And I said no touching.’ Yunho was careful not to inflict any actual pain, as he released his wrists and watched San reluctantly keep them raised. It wasn’t that fun, he thought, dominating someone with brute force. Much more fun, to teach them to restrain themselves. ‘Are you going to be good?’ 

A moment of understanding. San swallowed, his eyes wide, then nodded. 

San allowed his head to be tipped back, again, as Yunho kissed his way down his neck. This time, his hands stayed exactly where Yunho had left them, fists clenched and his eyes shut tight.

Yunho supported his weight on his forearms, never letting his hands wander below San’s shoulders, and he could feel San’s skin getting hotter under his lips.

His body started to rise towards him as he tried to get closer, tried to gain purchase on Yunho’s hips with his legs, wind them around his calves. Yunho shut his eyes and exhaled sharply against San’s lips, when San arched up against him and he felt San — hard and urgent — against the top of his thigh. 

‘Please...’ It was as if San was trying to share his breaths, lifting off the couch as far as he possibly could to keep their lips touching. ‘Please.’ 

‘Please, what?’ Yunho asked, only smiling a little as he leaned forwards, letting his thigh exert pressure against San’s erection. 

San let out a tortured groan and immediately dropped his hands, which Yunho anticipated. He pushed one hand away, when San tried to touch himself, and then caught them both, holding them to the couch by San’s sides. San was looking up at him with something like excitement mixed with pure agony, and he tried to move, but only succeeded in rubbing himself against Yunho’s thigh even harder. His eyes rolled back and he flushed deep red. 

‘Tell me what you want,’ Yunho said, suddenly feeling completely in control of himself. It didn’t matter how turned on he was — he didn’t care — he could watch this forever. 

‘I want...’ San squirmed, looked down at his useless hands. ‘Please, touch me.’ 

‘I’ve already said, that’s not going to happen tonight.’ Yunho refused to speak again until San looked at him, overwrought and confused and completely malleable. ‘Do you want to come? Is that what you want?’ 

A frantic nod, a faraway look creeping into his eyes, like he no longer knew himself. Yunho could see he had walked San to the edge, led him into the shallows, and now all he had to do was give in, be willing to drown when Yunho asked him to. Don’t worry, baby, Yunho thought, I’ll breathe for you. That’s the point. 

‘If you want to come,’ he said, softly placing San’s wrists above his head again, ‘then you’re going to have to come like this.’ 

San glanced down, his breathing desperate. Yunho sweetly brushed his hair away from his eye, so he could better see him. For a moment, San looked so alarmed that Yunho took his chin in his hand and said, seriously, ‘If you want, we can stop.’ 

‘No, please!’ San gasped, shaking his head. ‘Please, don’t stop...’ 

‘Then do you think you can come like this?’ Yunho let a hint of a smile play around his mouth, which San saw and seemed to register as a place of safety. 

He relaxed once again, his gaze becoming distant. He shut his eyes as if to consider all the implications of Yunho’s question and then, without opening them, fists only momentarily clenching above his head, he nodded. 

Yunho let his tongue trace San’s top lip, before catching the bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it gently. An electric jolt seemed to fly through San’s body, as he suddenly ground upwards with his hips, trying to bring them closer and closer together. Yunho didn’t fight him too hard, but he didn’t make it easy for him either. 

He looked up and saw San flexing and clawing his fingers, brow furrowed with the effort of grinding himself against Yunho in any way he could. San was straining against the front of his jeans — it occurred to Yunho that this was probably as excruciating as it was pleasurable — and savoured the low growl, the groans building in San’s chest that became moans as soon as they met the open air. 

All trace of self-consciousness gone, San bit his bottom lip and started quivering as he rolled his hips, found some fragment of relief, and thrust once, twice, as if possessed. Yunho didn’t want to stop kissing him, but he couldn’t bear to stifle the exquisite sounds San was now emitting. He pulled back just far enough to stare down, transfixed, at the single-minded concentration etched into San’s features. He was sweating, the hollow of his throat tasted of salt. 

He let San hook one leg around him and rock their pelvises against each other. ‘You’re doing so well, baby,’ he managed to say, and San whimpered, irises so wide as to be almost black, completely given over to sensation. 

‘Please,’ San started saying again, but there was more necessity in his tone this time. He kept holding his breath, chest heaving. ‘Please, please, please...’ 

‘Do you want me to tell you you’re allowed to come?’ 

San stifled himself as Yunho took his wrists and held them in place. All he managed was, ‘Please.’ 

Yunho leaned down and held San’s earlobe between his teeth, until he let himself thrust forwards against San’s crotch and exhale, ‘Then come for me.’ 

Like a lit fuse, San let out a ragged cry and snapped back against him. Veins stood out in his neck, his forearms, as he ground out his release against Yunho’s body. He shuddered, arching back so far he almost lifted them both off the couch, then exhaled against Yunho’s throat. 

His hands trembled a little, as his hips convulsed with several, tiny aftershocks, and then he became very still, but for his breathing and the beat of his heart, which reminded Yunho of some small, panicked animal. 

For a second, Yunho felt equally panicked. Was San okay? Had he pushed him too far? 

Yunho released his wrists and gathered him as close as they could get, like an armful of flowers. ‘You were perfect,’ he said, stroking his hair. 

And the moment he said it, he heard a sigh of relief, and he turned his head to see that San was smiling. 

‘Was I?’ San said, his voice faint. 

‘Yes,’ Yunho was shocked to find himself close to tears. Now this, this had never happened before. Not with Mingi. Not with anybody. ‘You were perfect. You’re so perfect, San.’ 

He made a small, happy sound in response, and nuzzled his face into Yunho’s neck. 

‘San, I’m going to leave for only a minute, okay? I’m going to find you some clothes to sleep in and I’m going to clean you up a bit, and then you can sleep here with me. Is that okay? Just sleep. We’re not going to do anything else.’ 

San nodded against him, eyes closed tight and still smiling, pliant as a kitten. ‘Can you hold me?’ he said quietly, so quietly Yunho almost missed it. 

‘While you sleep?’

He nodded again, and tried to curl up even closer. ‘I can’t sleep without... someone.’ 

Yunho felt something inside him threaten to break. ‘Yes, we can do that,’ he said, while thinking, I will do anything, baby. I will do anything you want.