Archive of Our Own

The end of his nails were bitten raw, almost to the point of scratching the surface of his skin. Hongjoong took a deep breath, clearing his throat. He wasn’t nervous, not really. He was just a little bit worried he’d messed up and he was going to get fired.

So, no biggie. He’d been working his ass off at the company, writing music reviews nonstop and finding new underground artists whose music he’d pay attention to. Week after week Hongjoong would go to dirty bars, writing about unknown musicians, interviewing them while surrounded by heavily drank and high people, a wave of smoke being hit into his face every once in a while.

Hongjoong loved it, though. He liked the rush of meeting new people, despite not being a social butterfly. The interview process was taken in a different route, at least compared to his coworkers. 

Where other people would assume the interviews should be informal and friendly, Hongjoong’s intention was to dip his toes in the dark waters of it all without giving away his own personal opinions or thoughts on it.

He wanted to describe the chaos surrounding the bands’ lives, how much the lack of acknowledgement of their music impacted them, as well as their achievements within the local community.

Many of those groups had incredibly fierce fans who spoke to Hongjoong with excitement at getting their favorite band a voice. And that was what Hongjoong loved about his job, how he painted a picture for people of a life they would never be in contact with or, on the other hand, would interact with after getting to know more about it.

But Hongjoong had gone through trials and errors, some groups being responsible enough to respect Hongjoong’s firm and professional persona. Others, not so much. Some were divas and couldn’t stand Hongjoong’s neutrality.

Some couldn’t handle the narratives being written for the company’s magazine and shared on their socials. After a while, though, Hongjoong had learnt that it was just a job and he shouldn’t let it affect him personally.

He did his best and that had to be enough.

Still, it didn’t really change the fact that his boss had called him for a private reunion. That, generally speaking, was a horrible sign. Hongjoong had been waiting outside, sitting in the small brown couch, near the desktop of his manager’s secretary.

The secretary was an older man than Hongjoong who’d been smiling at him with a twinkle in his eye. Hongjoong didn’t know how to read social cues in stressful circumstances such as that one, so he’d just bitten his nails while checking his emails on his phone.

The office smelled nice, at least. It was a soft lavender scent that permeated the air with hope. Wish Hongjoong would share the sentiment. He’d worked for the company for what would’ve been six years.

He’d begun right after he finished his university degree, now he was almost 27 years old. And he’d never been this nervous, not even after the first two interviews he’d done with bigger, more popular artists.

The secretary finally called Hongjoong’s name, motioning him to head into the actual office. With a deep sigh, he smoothed out his black turtleneck and stood up, his heart hammering against his ribs.

As he pushed the door open, he was greeted by the familiar sight of his boss, Minji, seated behind her sleek black desk. Her hair was tied back into a sharp ponytail, and her dark red lipstick was impeccable, as usual.

"Ah, Hongjoong," Minji greeted, her voice warm but commanding. She gestured for him to sit down. "Come in, sit, sit. Why are you so tense?" She smiled warmly.

He did as she asked, trying to ignore the way his palms were dampening against his thighs. Minji leaned forward, clasping her hands together, and her piercing gaze locked onto him.

"I wanted to talk to you about your recent interview with that rock soloist, Kim Jiwoo," she began, her tone neutral.

Hongjoong swallowed hard, preparing for the worst. He’d been thorough, detailed, and had even thrown in a few poetic phrases to capture the chaotic energy of the soloists’ personality. But what if she didn’t like it? What if he’d gone too far or not far enough?

"That was excellent work," Minji said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You made her shine. People loved how you spoke of her unapologetic nature. The article’s already gone viral. We’ve had a spike in readership because of it." She clapped her hands together.

Hongjoong blinked, momentarily stunned. "Wait, really?"

He didn’t check socials as much as he should, especially in his field job.

"Really," Minji confirmed with a chuckle. "You’ve consistently proven yourself as one of our most talented writers. Your ability to dive into subcultures and bring them to life is unmatched. So, I think it’s time we recognize that." She leaned back in her chair, her smile widening. "Congratulations, Hongjoong. I’m giving you a promotion."

The words hit him like a freight train. A promotion? For a moment, all he could do was gape at her. Then, he broke into a grin, his face lighting up.

"Thank you," he stammered. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate this."

"You’ve earned it," Minji said firmly, standing to extend her hand. Hongjoong shook it, his grip slightly too eager.

As he left her office, his steps were lighter, his heart swelling with pride. His boss thought he was talented. She’d given him a raise. It felt surreal. When Hongjoong returned to his desk, the shared space he occupied with Yunho, he found his coworker sprawled comfortably in his chair, typing away on his laptop with the kind of easy focus that Hongjoong could never quite replicate. Yunho looked up at the sound of Hongjoong’s footsteps, and as if on instinct, his face lit up with a grin that seemed to make the office lights dim in comparison.

“Hey, what’s with that big smile?” Yunho teased, his voice warm and teasing, leaning back in his chair. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his button-up shirt just enough to be noticeable, and for a brief, fleeting second, Hongjoong’s thoughts spiraled towards a place he’d only let himself think about when it was late at night.

The way Yunho carried himself, effortlessly cool but always with an air of genuine kindness, was maddening. He wasn’t just another attractive coworker to Hongjoong, no. Yunho radiated a kind of natural charm that drew people in.

He was the type of person who would always remember birthdays, who brewed extra coffee in the mornings because he knew Hongjoong often forgot about eating breakfast, and who had an ability to make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room.

“I just got promoted,” Hongjoong finally said, trying to sound casual, but the quiver of excitement in his voice gave him away.

“No way!” Yunho shot out of his chair with an energy that was contagious, clapping Hongjoong on the back with a wide, toothy grin. “That’s amazing, Joongie! I knew you could do it. You’ve been killing it lately!”

Hongjoong felt his cheeks warm at the nickname, one Yunho had started using without a second thought months ago. The familiarity of it never failed to send a flutter through his chest. And then there was the genuine pride in Yunho’s voice, the kind of excitement that felt too big for something as small as a coworker’s raise.

Soon enough, word of Hongjoong’s raise had spread through the office like wildfire. In their small, tight-knit workspace, news like this was an excuse for a mini celebration. Colleagues stopped by to congratulate him, offering smiles and pats on the back, and Hongjoong, unused to so much attention, found himself grinning shyly and muttering thanks.

And then there was Yunho, always in the center of the action, always the loudest advocate for fun. He was the one who proposed drinks to celebrate, standing tall in the middle of the office and declaring with a wide grin, “Tonight’s all about Joongie! Drinks are on me!”

Before Hongjoong could protest, Yunho had slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in that easy, tactile way that made Hongjoong’s heart beat a little faster. “No arguments,” Yunho said, his voice low but firm, as though he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

By the time they reached the bar, the workweek buzz was in full swing, and the place hummed with laughter and clinking glasses. Hongjoong sipped on a cocktail, trying to pace himself as the toasts kept coming. Yunho stayed by his side, introducing him to colleagues from other departments and even strangers who’d somehow joined their growing group.

Despite the noise and the crowd, Yunho’s focus never seemed to waver. He leaned in close whenever Hongjoong spoke, his attention fully on him, as if no one else in the room mattered. It was infuriatingly sweet.

Hongjoong couldn’t stop himself from noticing the little things, how Yunho’s eyes crinkled when he laughed, how he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair when he was deep in thought, how he made sure Hongjoong’s glass was never empty but never pushed him to drink too much.

The stress of the day, the panic he’d felt earlier, all of it seemed to melt away as the night wore on. At one point, Yunho nudged him playfully, his voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music. “See, Joongie? You’re a star. Everyone loves you.”

Hongjoong looked at Yunho, the warmth in his eyes, the unshakeable confidence he had in him, and for a moment, he let himself feel it. The flicker of happiness, of being seen, of being cared for. But deep down, as he watched Yunho laugh with their coworkers, Hongjoong couldn’t ignore the ache that came with being so close to someone who felt just out of reach.

Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up, though.

***

Until they weren’t.

Hongjoong’s head swam as he stood outside, the crisp night air biting against his flushed cheeks. He swayed slightly on his feet, clutching the edge of the stone railing for balance. The lively hum of the bar behind him was muted by the closed door, leaving only the sound of distant traffic and his own uneven breaths. He fumbled with a cigarette, struggling to light it as his vision blurred.

He had no idea how many drinks he’d accepted —his superiors, his coworkers, all of them so congratulatory, insisting on one more. Politeness had betrayed him. Now, his stomach churned, his legs felt weak, and his mind was spinning in circles, most of which revolved around Yunho.

Yunho, who had looked ridiculously hot tonight, his shirt snug across his broad chest, his tie loosened casually, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the dim, golden bar lights, hair ruffled up. Yunho, whose laugh was warm and infectious, whose large hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder felt heavier than it should have, grounding him and simultaneously making him lightheaded.

Hongjoong sighed, finally managing to light the cigarette. He took a long drag, letting the burn in his lungs match the heat in his chest.

“Joongie?”

The familiar voice startled him, and he turned to see Yunho stepping out of the bar, his tall frame silhouetted by the light spilling through the doorway. Yunho’s expression was soft with concern as he closed the door behind him and walked closer, crossing his arms tightly around himself, shivering.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing,” Yunho asked, his voice low and gentle.

Hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at Yunho, the way the cold made his breath visible in little clouds, the way his hair fell slightly out of place, how his dark eyes held nothing but worry.

“I needed some air,” Hongjoong mumbled, flicking ash from his cigarette.

Yunho frowned, tilting his head. “You okay, though?”

Was he okay? Hongjoong wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but it would’ve been too much effort. The alcohol made everything hazy, his usual filters barely clinging on. He tried to look away, but Yunho was too close, his presence too steady, his kindness too disarming.

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong muttered, though his voice wavered.

Yunho stepped closer, his hand coming up to rest lightly on Hongjoong’s arm. “You don’t seem fine.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched. His head felt heavy, his heart heavier. The words slipped out before he could stop them, slurred and quiet but loaded with emotion.

“Why do you have to be so sweet?” he whispered, staring at the ground.

“What?” Yunho asked, leaning in slightly, his brows furrowing.

Hongjoong stumbled, his legs betraying him, and Yunho’s hands immediately shot out, steadying him by the shoulders. Their faces were close now, too close, and Hongjoong’s drunken mind screamed at him to stop, to say anything else, to laugh it off, but he couldn’t.

“Why do you have to be…” Hongjoong blurted, his voice cracking. His hands clutched the lapels of Yunho’s coat for balance, and he looked up, his eyes glassy and full of unspoken longing. “Why do you have to break my heart? Fuck, I love you. I love you so, so much. You just don’t know half of it.”

The confession hung in the cold air, heavy and raw. Yunho froze, his eyes widening slightly, the weight of Hongjoong’s words sinking in. Not even the sounds of other drunken clients leaving the bar had broken the spell between them.

“Joongie…” Yunho began, his voice soft and uncertain, but Hongjoong was already pulling away, shaking his head as tears threatened to spill.

“Forget I said anything,” Hongjoong mumbled, his voice trembling. He turned, stumbling a few steps toward the railing, his cigarette forgotten.

But Yunho didn’t let him go. He reached out, catching Hongjoong’s wrist gently but firmly, holding him in place. The silence stretched between them, tense and fragile, the weight of the moment pressing down like the cold night around them.

And still, Yunho didn’t let go.

No, instead Yunho took another step until they were close to each other. “Let’s take you home, hm? You’ve had a long day.”

Hongjoong struggled to understand what was happening, but he mumbled to himself, then freed himself from Yunho’s soft hold.

“I don’t wanna,” Hongjoong hiccupped, stepping on the ground harder than intended. He stumbled into Yunho again, but it was almost like hitting against a wall.

Hongjoong wasn’t that short, but he definitely was on the shorter end of it, while Yunho was on the taller side. And although he wouldn’t admit it, he loved the size difference between them. He liked it until that moment when Yunho was stubborn and wouldn’t let Hongjoong go back to the bar. Hongjoong had already embarrassed himself enough, why couldn’t Yunho just let him lick his wounds in peace.

“Hongjoong, come on,” Yunho sighed. “You’re too drunk to go home on your own. I’ll tell everyone you left early because you were sick. Trust me, you don’t want to get black out drunk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, one finger digging into Yunho’s chest. “Stop being so sweet…”

Yunho chuckled softly, the sound low and warm in the chilly night air. He glanced down at Hongjoong, his hand resting lightly on Hongjoong’s wrist as if grounding him, but not forcing him to stay.

“Joongie,” Yunho said, his voice filled with a gentle patience that made Hongjoong’s chest ache. “You’re going to thank me tomorrow when you’re not waking up in a random bar booth. I know how much you hate the smell of alcohol, too.”

Hongjoong huffed, swaying a little bit. His finger stayed pressed against Yunho’s chest, though now it seemed more like a point of stability than a protest. “You’re too nice,” he mumbled, his words laced with frustration and something softer, something closer to longing. “You’re always… perfect. It’s annoying. You’re annoying.”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a crooked smile. “Perfect, huh? That’s a lot of pressure.”

Hongjoong scowled, but it lacked any real heat. “I mean it. You’re… you’re too much sometimes. Too funny, too hardworking.” His voice cracked again, softer this time, the vulnerability slipping through despite his drunken haze. “It makes it hard to hate you. And I really wish I could hate you.”

Yunho’s gaze searched Hongjoong’s face like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “You don’t have to hate me, Joongie,” he said, his tone serious but kind. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

The words twisted something deep in Hongjoong’s chest. He pulled his hand away, wrapping his arms around himself as if to shield against the cold or Yunho’s presence. As if he’d shown too much of himself. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Take me home, then.”

Without missing a beat, Yunho stepped closer, slipping his arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders. The contact was steady and grounding, and Hongjoong hated how much he leaned into it, how much he wanted to stay there. Yunho guided him toward the curb where his car was parked, his movements gentle but firm.

As they walked, Yunho glanced down at Hongjoong, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’re shivering. Here.” Without hesitation, he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Hongjoong’s shoulders before Hongjoong could protest.

“What about you? You’ll get sick,” Hongjoong muttered, his voice muffled by the collar of Yunho’s jacket.

It smelled like lilies.

Yunho laughed gently. “I’m just making sure you don’t freeze, Joongie. I’ll be fine.”

Both men stumbled into Yunho’s small car, the hum of the car engine filling up the space between them. Hongjoong leaned his head against the window, his eyes half-lidded as the streetlights blurred into colorful lines. He wasn’t sure if it was alcohol or exhaustion, but the world felt incredibly quiet. He closed his eyes while Yunho drove them to Hongjoong’s apartment, this being Yunho’s third time visiting. The first two had been when Hongjoong was sober and excited to show Yunho his vinyl collection. He hadn’t expected to get so drunk in front of his crush.

But the word “crush” wouldn’t really cover or reflect his actual feelings for Yunho. He was definitely in love with him. But that expression, being in love with someone, felt like it was more definitive and it opened another possibility of Hongjoong getting his heartbroken. Which was already what he’d assumed would happen when he began having intense feelings after every small interaction with Yunho.

When they finally arrived to Hongjoong’s, Yunho helped him out of the car, steadying him with a hand on his arm. “Keys?” Yunho asked, holding out his hand.

Hongjoong fumbled in his pocket, finally producing the keyring and dropping it into Yunho’s palm. Yunho unlocked the door and guided Hongjoong inside the elevator. Once they got to the third floor, they entered his apartment, Yunho flicking on the lights while making sure he didn’t trip over anything.

“Alright, you’re home safe,” Yunho said, his voice laced with a combination of concern and what Hongjoong would describe as fondness. “Get some water and some rest, okay? I’ll make sure you hydrate before leaving.”

Hongjoong stood there for a moment, his heart pounding as he looked at Yunho —this gorgeous, kind, impossible man who was always just a little too good, a little too much. “Yunho,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho turned, his eyes meeting Hongjoong’s. “Yeah?”

For a moment, Hongjoong wanted to say something else, something real, but the weight of the night and the alcohol in his veins held him back. “Thanks,” he said instead, his voice thick with unspoken feelings. “For everything. And sorry. For everything, too.”

Yunho’s smile was tender, his gaze intense as he reached out to ruffle Hongjoong’s hair gently. “Anytime, Joongie. Sleep well, okay?”

And just like that, Yunho was gone, leaving Hongjoong standing in his dimly lit apartment, wearing Yunho’s jacket and feeling the echo of his touch long after the door had closed.

He changed into his pajamas, left the worn-out and sweaty work clothes on his floor, then closed his eyes while surrounded by pure darkness. He could hear Yunho walking around his kitchen, pouring some water on one of his glasses, then getting into Hongjoong’s bedroom and leaving it on the bedside table. Hongjoong’s breathing got quieter, slower. The room was still dark, Yunho not wanting to wake Hongjoong up, always so considerate and sweet despite it being dangerous. What if he had tripped and broken the glass? He could’ve gotten hurt.

But that hadn’t happened, so.

No, instead Yunho also had found some ibuprofen and left it beside the glass. Hongjoong could see the tall silhouette standing above his bed. It was eerie and comforting at the same time. Knowing Yunho was there while not being to see his face and body clearly, not only because the lights were off, but also because of Hongjoong’s drunk, hazy mind.

Yunho lingered near his bed, framed by the faint city glow spilling through the curtains. Hongjoong lay perfectly still, his breathing steady, feigning sleep. The weight of Yunho’s gaze was palpable.

The bed dipped slightly as Yunho sat on the edge, careful not to disturb him. Hongjoong’s heart raced in his chest, a storm of emotion he fought to suppress. Yunho’s voice, low and tender, broke the silence.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” Yunho murmured, his tone soft but filled with something deeper, something raw. “How incredible you are. How easy it is to care about you.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened. Yunho’s words carried an intimacy that felt out of place but also as if it was a melody he hadn’t realized he’d been longing to hear.

Yunho exhaled slowly, his hand hesitating before brushing a strand of hair from Hongjoong’s face. The touch was light, almost reverent, sending shivers coursing through Hongjoong’s body. Yunho’s fingers lingered for a moment, and then he pulled back as if afraid he’d crossed a line.

“I wish you’d let yourself see what I see,” Yunho continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You’d stop carrying everything alone. You don’t have to, Joongie.”

The nickname, spoken so softly, so intimately, made Hongjoong ache. Yunho paused, his shoulders tense, as if debating whether to say more. Then, in a voice barely audible, he added, “You’re impossible.”

The words were like a secret Yunho hadn’t meant to share, but now they hung in the air between them. Hongjoong wanted to turn, to look at him, to ask what he meant. But fear and hope tangled together, leaving him frozen.

Yunho sat there for a moment longer, as if hoping for some response, even though he thought Hongjoong was asleep. Finally, he sighed, rising quietly.

“I’ll lock up,” Yunho said, more to himself than anyone else. He hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the frame. “Goodnight, Joongie.”

His voice was almost wistful, as if he were leaving behind more than just an apartment.

The front door clicked shut, and Hongjoong’s home fell silent once more. Hongjoong opened his eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling, Yunho’s words echoing in his mind.

A tear slipped down his temple, followed by another, until he couldn’t stop them. The weight of his pitiable, drunken confession settled in his chest, warm and bittersweet.

Hongjoong let himself believe, just for a moment, that maybe the ache in his heart wasn’t so one-sided after all.

***

The weekend had gone by faster than Hongjoong wished for. He didn’t have any plans, beside buying his groceries, doing his laundry, or cleaning the apartment. The first few hours after he’d woken up late he’d mainly taken a long, warm shower and if he also cried silently while the water washed away his bitterness then that was just another layer of unwanted memories he would lock away inside him. He thought it would go just like in the movies he grew up watching; after a drunken night, he’d get a severe migraine, maybe be a bit nauseous, and feel internally horrible while not remembering anything that happened prior to that. It could’ve been a silly mistake, forgotten and never mentioned again, at least for Hongjoong’s sake.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t a movie.

He memorized every detail from that night. He closed his eyes and could see the burning, orange hue oozing off his cigarette between his body and Yunho’s broader, taller one.

He could tell how many breaths he’d taken before telling Yunho what he felt for him. What he’d been keeping a secret for almost two years. Maybe even more since Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he fell the first time Yunho smiled at one of his jokes.

If pressed harder, Hongjoong could’ve told about how he’d wanted to move forwards and smash his lips against Yunho’s, bite into the sweetness that Yunho was made out of, as if he were a sweet treat he needed to devour.

But those were his thoughts and feelings about a memory that hurt when he realized Yunho most definitely didn’t feel the same for him. And so, Hongjoong would rather pretend he hadn’t let out his most vulnerable side in front of the man he’s loved for longer than his past relationships.

After the sort of celebratory party at the bar with his coworkers, he’d hoped for having something to do on the weekend. He did force himself to eat breakfast and, once done with all the cleaning, he focused all his energy on doing his skincare routine, trying out some of the new makeup his best friends bought for his birthday.

His skin had a rough appearance, which was not usual for him. He spent time on his looks in the mornings, especially when going to work. It wasn’t for anyone in particular, of course, it was more of a boost of confidence. He liked looking pretty and feeling pretty. 

The weekend blurred into Monday morning, and with it came a familiar dread. Hongjoong sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his phone and contemplating excuses to call out of work. Maybe he could claim a headache or a stomach bug? But as quickly as the thought came, guilt followed. He was responsible, sometimes to a fault, and the idea of shirking his duties made his stomach twist with unease.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself to his closet, choosing a beige and soft sweater and his favorite tailored pants. If he had to face the day, at least he’d do it looking sharp. Yet, as he adjusted his earrings in the mirror, he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. The weekend hadn’t been terrible, but it had felt empty, like he was waiting for something or someone to come up to his door and profess his feelings to him.

Once again, though, Hongjoong didn’t live inside those movies he liked watching.

Shaking the thought out of his mind, Hongjoong grabbed his bag and stepped out the door, steeling himself for another workweek. Hongjoong didn’t want to see Yunho again after his drunken confession. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, not slurred and stumbling, not with his heart laid bare in the messiest, most unguarded way possible.

For so long, he’d imagined what it would be like to tell Yunho how he felt: in a moment of clarity, with the perfect words, maybe under the warm glow of a late afternoon sun or after a shared laugh that lingered just a little too long.

Instead, he’d spilled his feelings in a haze of alcohol, and now the thought of facing Yunho made his stomach twist painfully. What if Yunho hated him? Worse, what if he didn’t care at all? Maybe he’d stop wanting to be friends? The sharp contrast between his dream and reality left a bitter taste in his mouth, Hongjoong considered taking a different route to his desk just to avoid Yunho’s gaze.

But that would be impossible since they were desk partners. And so, Hongjoong greeted a shy Yunho, who’d been eyeing him in silence while Hongjoong took off his coat, hat, and gloves. He sent Yunho a tight smile and went to get a coffee in the office’s kitchen. His hands were trembling a little bit as if he couldn’t feel the heating working through the office, warming them up.

He had to focus on his job, not personal matters. But, in his defense, his stomach had sunk at seeing Yunho’s sleepy face and neatly tailored suit he wore every now and then. He had his jacket off, that same jacket he’d put around Hongjoong’s shoulders and…

He didn’t want to remember because remembering would deepen his wound.

Hongjoong buried himself in his work, the soft clatter of his keyboard masking the storm of thoughts raging in his head. He avoided even glancing in Yunho’s direction, pretending to be engrossed in spreadsheets and reports that barely held his focus.

When lunchtime rolled around, Yunho shifted in his seat as if about to speak, but Hongjoong stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. “I need some air,” he mumbled, not waiting for a response. He darted out of the office, the door swinging shut behind him.

The cold wind outside stung his cheeks, but it was a welcome distraction from the warmth of Yunho’s gaze he was too afraid to meet. For now, distance felt safer than facing the possibility of rejection by someone he cared so much about.

***

The day went by, Hongjoong not having much to do beside editing his next interviews that would be published. He listened to some music, bouncing around ideas for other projects, taking another coffee break, going to the bathroom after he had drunk too much, then taking a smoke break, too.

Just to add more anxiety to his already horrible mood. Yunho had tried to bridge the growing gap between them, his usual playful warmth softening into quiet concern. He poked Hongjoong on the cheek, his touch light and familiar, but Hongjoong barely reacted, muttering something about needing to finish a task.

Later, Yunho left a croissant from the breakroom on Hongjoong’s desk, but by the time Yunho turned back, Hongjoong had already left, mumbling about needing fresh air before slipping out.

Hongjoong wasn’t trying to be mean, he could never be mean to Yunho. In truth, it took every ounce of willpower to keep his distance.

It was so hard not to ask Yunho what game he was obsessing over lately, not to hear about his morning routine or the breakfast he’d eaten before work, not to light up at Yunho’s stories about picking out gifts for his mom.

But every word, every laugh, every kind gesture made the ache in Hongjoong’s chest sharper. Yunho was too close, too kind, too much, and Hongjoong was terrified he’d unravel completely if he let himself stay.

It was killing him to ignore the main person that made Hongjoong comfortable in his job, the one person who would always give him advice and tips to better himself. It had been a horrible day, slow and boring, not even talking about new gossip from other departments had lifted his spirits.

The clock had hit five and so Hongjoong got ready to leave, putting his coat on, making sure his computer was off before taking off. Hongjoong hadn’t seen Yunho for the past two hours, the man being occupied with reunions and calls, but Hongjoong didn’t think of it much.

He’d noticed it was raining heavily right after getting several drops of water sliding from his forehead to the tip of his nose. Hongjoong’s shoulder dropped, sighing loudly, not sure if he even had an umbrella.

He rolled his eyes and used his hands to form a shield from the cold rain, running towards his car. What he hadn’t expected is to see Yunho holding a large, blue umbrella, shivering.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong yelled over the loud sound of rain that surrounded them, forgetting about his embarrassment from the fatidic Friday confession.

Instead, he focused on taking a tissue to dry off his clothes while thanking Yunho for letting him hide under his umbrella, both men pressed together to not get wet.

“I was waiting for you, Joongie. Did you forget something?” Yunho smiled with a warm note to his voice.

Hongjoong checked his pockets and bag. Then, he noticed Yunho holding his phone charger with his other hand.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, thanks,” Hongjoong’s cheeks were bright red, always forgetting something.

Most of the time either Yunho, San, or Seonghwa reminded him to check if he’d brought everything with him. He just didn’t need another embarrassing, childish scene to happen in front of Yunho. Again.

Hongjoong nodded in his car’s direction while putting the charger away. “So… Do you need a ride?”

Yunho blinked, tilting his head to the side. Before he could say something, Hongjoong unlocked the car, then tried opening the door but Yunho blocked his way with his body.

Hongjoong took a step back, gripping Yunho’s arm to steady himself against the slick pavement. The rain was relentless, pattering loudly against the umbrella and washing away his already fragile composure.

Yunho's expression was unreadable, his usual easygoing warmth tempered by something heavier, something that made Hongjoong’s heart race for all the wrong reasons.

“Do you think I don’t remember what you told me?” Yunho’s voice cut through the downpour, quiet but firm, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.

Hongjoong stopped breathing for a second, the words hitting him as if he was burning inside. His chest tightened as panic surged within the depths of his stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, already reaching for the car door again. “Look, it’s late, and you’re soaked. Let me just—”.

Before he could finish, Yunho’s hand shot out, gently wrapping around his wrist. The touch was soft, but it anchored Hongjoong in place, grounding him in a moment he desperately wanted to flee from.

“Stop,” Yunho said, his tone pleading now. His fingers lingered on Hongjoong’s wrist, warm against his rain-chilled skin. “Don’t run away from me, Joongie.”

Hongjoong looked anywhere but at Yunho. At the ground, the faint glow of streetlights reflected on the rain puddles. Yunho closed the gap between them until their faces were only inches apart.

“You told me you loved me,” Yunho continued, his voice shaking slightly, but his grip steady. “Do you think I’ve forgotten? Do you think it didn’t matter?”

Hongjoong’s throat felt tight, his breaths coming short and shallow. “Yunho, I was drunk. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf—”

“Don’t do that,” Yunho interrupted, his eyes searching Hongjoong’s face, his words breaking through the defenses Hongjoong had so carefully built. “Don’t pretend it didn’t mean anything. Not when it meant everything to me.”

Hongjoong finally looked at him then, his wide eyes meeting Yunho’s steady gaze. There was no teasing there, no pity, just a raw, unfiltered honesty that made Hongjoong’s knees threaten to buckle.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say it again,” Yunho admitted, his voice barely audible above the rain. “But I can’t wait anymore. I love you too, Hongjoong. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

The words hung in the air between them, undeniably heavy. For a moment, Hongjoong could only stare, his soft lips parting as if to say something, but no sound came out. His heart felt like it might burst, torn between fear and the overwhelming warmth spreading through his chest.

Yunho let go of his wrist, only to cup Hongjoong’s face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away raindrops, or maybe tears, from his cheeks. “Please, just tell me how you really feel,” Yunho whispered, his voice trembling but resolute. “Even if it’s not what I want to hear, I need to know.”

Hongjoong’s resolve crumbled completely, the weight of his emotions too much to bear. He leaned into Yunho’s touch, his own hands finding their way to Yunho’s soaked shirt, clutching it as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

“I love you,” Hongjoong finally whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you so much.”

Yunho’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before Hongjoong could second-guess himself, Yunho pressed their foreheads together as the rain continued to pour. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the cold, not the embarrassment, not the fear. Just the warmth of Yunho’s love enveloping him, grounding him in the most important truth he’d tried so hard to avoid.

Yunho loved him back.

Yunho. His Yunho. The same person who had been there for Hongjoong through the stressful late-night deadlines, the drunken mishaps, the times he had to cry over having messed up something at work or when he watched a sad film on purpose.

That same Yunho loved him.

The realization hit him like a wave, washing away the lingering fears and doubts that had weighed him down for so long. His Yunho, with that easy smile and kind eyes, wasn’t just a dream anymore. He was standing right here, holding Hongjoong close, and for once, Hongjoong didn’t want to run away from it.

As the rain slowed to drizzle, Yunho pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on Hongjoong’s arm. “Hey,” he said, hesitant, as if trying to not scare Hongjoong away, “do you have plans tonight?”

Hongjoong blinked, the question catching him off guard. “Uh, no,” he admitted, softly. “I was just going to… go home, I guess.”

Yunho smiled, warm and inviting. “Come over to my place. I’ll make us something to eat. We can relax for a bit, maybe watch something. What do you say?”

There wasn’t any shyness in Yunho’s tone, just a genuine offer that made Hongjoong’s pulse quicken. “Are you sure?” Hongjoong asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Yunho chuckled. “Of course, Joongie. Besides,” he added, teasingly, “you owe me for walking you home the other night. Let me make sure you eat something decent, at least.”

Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile at that, the warmth in Yunho’s gaze impossible to ignore. “Alright,” he said happily. “Lead the way.”

***

Later that evening, as the rain stopped washing the city away, Hongjoong found himself at Yunho’s home.  He’d been there a handful of times, either to hang out with Yunho and his friends or when Yunho and Hongjoong had to finish a project together.

It had been a while, but Yunho’s home was still cozy, spacious, and full of little trinkets that held sweet memories from Yunho’s interests, holidays, favorite shows, and characters from videogames.

Soft lighting cast a gentle glow across the kitchen, and the scent of something savory wafted through the air as Yunho stirred a pot on the stove. “Uh, you know I can’t really cook fancy,” Yunho said, flashing a sheepish grin. “Just some pasta and whatever wine I had lying around.”

“It smells amazing,” Hongjoong said, his demeanor more tense than usual, a little shy. He wasn’t used to this side of Yunho, domestic and relaxed, in his element. It made it harder to not show how much he adored him.

They ate at Yunho’s small dining table, the conversation flowing effortlessly, as it always did between them, despite the strange work shift they both had. Hongjoong found himself laughing more than he had in weeks, the bittersweet embarrassment from his confession melting away with each bite and sip of wine.

After dinner, they settled on the couch, a rerun of some old sitcom playing in the background. It wasn’t long before Yunho poured them another glass of wine, his gaze lingering on Hongjoong just a little longer than usual.

“You know,” Yunho said, swirling the wine in his glass, “I’ve been wanting to do this for months. Invite you over, spend time with you like this. I feel like…” Yunho doubted whether to share his feelings, almost as if he were chastising himself for whatever thought was about to come out from him.

Yunho swallowed hard before continuing to speak, “I feel like everyone wants your attention all the time,” Yunho avoided Hongjoong’s warm gaze. “They want your advice on work stuff, which is something I’ve always admired from you, how knowledgeable and smart you are. But having a crush on someone people rely so much… And I’m not a jealous person!” Yunho’s cheeks flushed. “God, I’m not making any sense, am I? I’m just saying… I wanted to have you for myself. At least an afternoon.”

Hongjoong blinked, long eyelashes casting shadows on his face. He couldn’t believe Yunho was this emotionally intense and it was all for Hongjoong’s attention.

 “You have? I thought… I thought you didn’t…” Hongjoong hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

“Didn’t what?” Yunho asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching Hongjoong’s.

“I thought you didn’t see me like that. You’re—you’re Yunho, you know? Everyone likes you. I figured you…” Hongjoong trailed off, his cheeks flushing as he reached for his glass. “Like, I don’t know. I thought you were straight but you flirted a lot with me and it was so confusing. I never expected you to like me more than just a friend you… casually flirt with?” Hongjoong tilted his head like a puppy.

Yunho chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down Hongjoong’s spine. “I thought you didn’t see me like that, Joongie. You’re always so composed, responsible, and focused on work. I didn’t want to mess up what we had if you didn’t feel the same way. Especially jeopardize our friendship. I care for you a lot more than you think. Or that you let yourself imagine.”

Hongjoong stared at him, the weight of Yunho’s words sinking in. “I thought you liked our boss,” he blurted, the wine loosening his tongue.

Yunho burst out laughing, the sound filling the apartment, and Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it all finally catching up to him.

“You thought I liked her?” Yunho said, wiping at his eyes. “Joongie, I’ve been trying to get your attention for months. How could you not notice?”

“I—” Hongjoong started, but Yunho cut him off by leaning in, his laughter fading into something softer, more serious.

Yunho pressed his mouth to Hongjoong’s, both men tasting of warm wine. Yunho licked Hongjoong’s bottom lip, opening him up slowly, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, years of unspoken feelings spilling out in that one moment.

Yunho’s hands found Hongjoong’s tiny waist, pulling him closer, while Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in Yunho’s hair, anchoring himself. The world outside faded, leaving only the warmth of Yunho’s lips, the faint taste of wine, and the heady realization that this wasn’t one of Hongjoong’s dreams.

Yunho shifted, guiding Hongjoong down onto the couch as their kisses grew more urgent. His hands skimmed along Hongjoong’s sides, exploring with a tenderness that made Hongjoong’s eyes water. His hands stared to caress Hongjoong’s skin underneath the sweater with the tip of his fingers, Hongjoong’s warm body immediately covered in a sea of goosebumps from Yunho’s cold hands.

“Joongie,” Yunho whispered against his lips, his voice low and breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. How long I’ve wanted you for myself.”

Hongjoong’s response was to moan louder.

Yunho broke away long enough to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of Hongjoong's throat, nipping at a pulse point with his teeth before soothing it with flicks of his tongue. "Tell me what you want," he murmured against sweat-dampened skin. "I'll give it to you."

Hongjoong gasped and arched into Yunho's touch, those slender fingers tightening in his hair as if trying to pull him closer still. "Want... want you everywhere," he panted out between breathless whimpers. "Please."

Yunho slid in front of Hongjoong, his knees hitting the wooden floor loudly. Hongjoong gasped at the sudden change, his face and ears red.

“Oh, wow, fuck,” Hongjoong couldn’t help himself but he bit his fist at the sight of Yunho unbuckling Hongjoong’s belt.

Yunho licked his lips, eyeing Hongjoong as if he were his last meal.

“Tap me here once if you want to stop. Tap twice if you get close, okay, Joongie?” Yunho tapped his own shoulders with his index and middle fingers.

Hongjoong nodded, glassy eyes and lips bitten-raw.

“Can you answer me? Hm?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Hongjoong nodded. “I got it.”

Yunho smiled warmly at Hongjoong, looking up at him like he held the entire world within.

And Hongjoong could handle desire and lust, but seeing the person he’s loved mirror his own intensity was making his eyes prickle with a suffocating need to weep between Yunho’s arms.

Instead, Hongjoong caressed Yunho’s head, almost as if he were patting him in a gentle, sweet way. They stayed quiet for a few moments before Yunho turned his head to the side, encouraging Hongjoong to touch his face. Hongjoong brushed Yunho’s cheekbones and thumb close to Yunho’s plush lips. He traced his mouth and pulled Yunho’s lower bottom lip a little, just to know the feeling of it.

Yunho licked his finger in such a cute way that Hongjoong couldn’t help himself, he smiled endearingly. But the cuteness turned into Yunho fully deepthroating his finger.

He moved away from Hongjoong, a line of spit connecting Yunho’s lips to Hongjoong’s finger, leaving both of them staring at each other, panting. Yunho tugged Hongjoong’s pants down in a swift motion.

Hongjoong’s breath hitched, eyes wide with disbelief as Yunho took him in, lips stretching to accommodate his girth. He was definitely on the smaller side, but thick nonetheless, filling Yunho’s mouth.

Yunho eyed him up and although he was on his knees, Hongjoong was completely embarrassed at how fast he’d gotten aroused. Yunho’s presence was so large in the room that no matter what he’d always make Hongjoong let go, be taken care of completely, for once not controlling the situation but only enjoying the ride.

Yunho, then, decided to suckle on the tip of Hongjoong’s cock, tensing his mouth. Hongjoong bit the back of his hand again as he moaned. “Ah, fuck! Please, please.” He didn’t know why he was begging for, tightening his grip on Yunho’s soft hair.

Yunho bobbed his head up and down, tongue flicking along the underside of Hongjoong’s length. The couch creaked beneath them, and Hongjoong found himself squirming against Yunho, wanting to push the pleasure away, but at the same time moving his hips in an unstable rhythm to meet Yunho’s wet, warm mouth.

Yunho looked up at Hongjoong through his eyelashes, lips parting with every slurp he gave, his eyes watering from the repetitive movement. He reached up to remove Hongjoong’s hand and tugged him into a quick, messy kiss. His tongue danced across Hongjoong’s lips, sharing the taste of their desire before sliding his mouth back onto Hongjoong's dick.

Hongjoong squirmed beneath Yunho, confused about the change of pace, eyes fluttering shut, his fingers still tangled in Yunho’s hair. He rocked his hips slowly against Yunho’s mouth, the sensation of his wet heat around Hongjoong’s cock making him moan loudly.

Yunho pulled back and grinned mischievously up at Hongjoong. He took in a deep breath and dove in again, his nose brushing against Hongjoong’s pelvis, the sound of his sucking filling the air around them.

Hongjoong's soft groans were amplified by the quiet room, bouncing off the walls and mingling with the soft slurping noises Yunho made. Hongjoong’s meowled, voice high-pitched. So fucking close. “Aaah, Yunho, I’m—” Hongjoong tapped Yunho, the way he remembered being told to.

“Fuck, fuck.” Yunho moaned. “Good boy, Joongie. Such a good boy, hm?” Yunho pulled off with a final pop, leaving Hongjoong to whine and squirm beneath him, reaching for him.

The tip of Yunho’s tongue ran along Hongjoong’s slick length, cleaning him up, but before he could go down again, Hongjoong tugged him up for another kiss. Their tongues didn’t meet smoothly, but after a few gasps and rearrangements, Yunho tasted Hongjoong completely, fingers tangling in hair and gripping desperately as their cocks rubbed together.

Hongjoong pulled him with a primal force, he needed Yunho right that instant, warm bodies pressed against each other. Yunho swayed his hips, rocking against Hongjoong's unclothed cock while he worked his own belt off, still clothed.

Hongjoong moaned at the contact, his hands moving to Yunho’s waist to guide him. He ran his fingers over the defined muscles of Yunho’s torso, watching his lips part with each gasp and moan.

Yunho kicked his pants off, keeping his eyes locked on Hongjoong's. There was a specific look in Yunho that Hongjoong had only seen when he felt particularly competitive, as if he were on top of the world. "You okay?" Yunho smirked, a hand curling around Hongjoong's cock.

Hongjoong nodded, whimpering at the heat of Yunho’s fingers around him, his mouth hanging open, tongue lolling out. Yunho tapped his shoulder once, then twice, showing Hongjoong what to do if he got too close to the edge.

Just when it was getting good, it became even more intense and better.

Yunho pulled open a drawer beside them and took a small bottle of lube. He opened the cap, pouring the cold liquid between his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. He propped Hongjoong’s thick legs around his shoulders, so Hongjoong was completely exposed to Yunho.

He clenched his empty hole, mentally preparing himself for Yunho’s long, elegant fingers.

“Baby, are you with me?” Yunho inched closer to him, still on his knees, but propping himself against the couch so he could support himself. He caressed Hongjoong’s calves, kissing them.

“Mhm,” Hongjoong blinked, wet eyelashes sticking together. “I’m perfect. I’m in heaven, actually.”

Yunho giggled. “Not yet, but I like your attitude. I honestly thought you’d be more…”

Hongjoong tilted his head back, the couch’s pillow digging against his uncomfortable neck position.

“More what?” He bit his lip.

Yunho traced the movement with his eyes like a wolf about to lose his cool and pounce on his prey.

“Brattier, maybe? But you’re like…” Yunho put a hand around Hongjoong’s throat, not squeezing, just leaving it there, hearing Hongjoong’s pulse quicken.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, probably showing with a live example why Yunho assumed he would be a brat in bed (which, to be fair, he was sometimes), but Yunho then placed his index finger higher, cupping Hongjoong’s jaw. He moved his face from right to left, inspecting Hongjoong in detail.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong laughed, loving the attention.

Yunho hummed. “Hm, yeah. You’re more pliant than I expected.”

Hongjoong’s face flushed, frowning hard. “No I’m not. You’re just… Stronger. Or something.”

Yunho grinned when Hongjoong softly slapped his hand away. “You’re mean,” Hongjoong pouted.

Yunho rolled his eyes, angling his hips upwards as he gripped Hongjoong’s legs, finally focusing on what Hongjoong had quietly been waiting for. Yunho’s fingers found their way to Hongjoong’s entrance, teasing him with gentle strokes.

He watched as Hongjoong fidgeted under him, his breath hitching in anticipation. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Yunho murmured, slipping a finger inside and feeling Hongjoong clench around him.

He added another finger, scissoring them apart to stretch Hongjoong open. “So tight,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to Hongjoong’s lips. “I can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“Ngh,” Hongjoong moaned. “Fuck, you’re fingers, Yunho… I already feel so fucking full.

If it was physically possible, Yunho’s cock would’ve grown even harder after hearing Hongjoong. Yunho curled his fingers, searching for that spot that would make Hongjoong whine louder. When he found it, Hongjoong let out a choked moan, his back arching off the bed. “There it is,” Yunho said with a smirk, continuing to press against it until Hongjoong was writhing.

“Fuck me already,” Hongjoong wiggled around, fucking himself on Yunho’s fingers, the squelching sound of his wet hole and the lube echoing around them.

“But you look so perfect, baby. I could finger you for hours.”

Hongjoong gasped as Yunho hit his spot over and over, “You’re going to make me come!”

Yunho kissed Hongjoong, shutting him up with his tongue, biting his lower lip and swallowing him whole. “You’ll come when I tell you to, Joongie, hm?”

“Fuck, fuck, can I ride you? Please, I need to fucking…” Hongjoong gasped, licking Yunho’s mouth, panting like an animal in heat. “I need you inside me right now. I can’t fucking wait.”

Yunho laughed, helping Hongjoong position himself in a more comfortable way so he’d be able to straddle him, but Hongjoong pulled Yunho with all his strength towards the couch so he’d sit, eliciting a surprised groan from Yunho.

Hongjoong swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he hovered above the man of his dreams. He placed his hands on Yunho’s broad shoulders and lowered himself slowly, gripping Yunho’s cock with his smaller hands. Yunho took the opportunity to caress Hongjoong’s hips, then squeezing Hongjoong’s thick ass, slapping it a little bit.

(Which had been the first time Hongjoong touched Yunho’s cock, but if he thought about it too long, about how he was going to ride the same Yunho that helped him through sleepless nights, he’d get too teary-eyed).

Hongjoong aligned Yunho’s huge cock right where he wanted him to be, Yunho gasping beneath him, teeth digging into his lower lip, his eyes flying open as Hongjoong finally sat on his throne. It was an exquisite feeling, so and warm, as Hongjoong lowered himself down. Hongjoong took him in fully and held still.

"Joongie, Joongie," Yunho moaned. "Move, fuck, move."

Hongjoong nodded unsteadily and moved his hips, pulling himself up before sinking back down on Yunho's large length. Hongjoong’s eyes were covered in a thin layer of tears as he moved atop of Yunho, his moans soft and throaty.

“You’re so fucking big,” Hongjoong meowled, clenching on Yunho’s cock. “I feel so full, fuck.”

“Yeah, baby? Am I the biggest you’ve had?” Yunho nipped at Hongjoong’s neck, soothing the red marks with his warm tongue.

Hongjoong’s moans sounded garbled. “Mhm, mhm, the biggest, baby.”

“Good boy, fuck, you’re so fucking tight, Joongie. I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this years ago,” Yunho gripped Hongjoong’s ass, each hand on top of Hongjoong’s cheeks. “You have no idea how many times I’ve held myself together so I wouldn’t bend you over at our desk or in the middle of one of your presentations, especially when you wear a cute sweater and those glasses that makes you look even prettier, looking all serious and professional. I just wanted to ruin you so bad, see how you’d be stuffed full of my cock, everyone in the office seeing what a desperate, horny puppy you are, crying and whining for me.”

Hongjoong felt heat throughout his whole body, Yunho’s voice and dirty words getting underneath his usually rational side, unlocking a more animalistic cry from him.

“Ngh, fuck, fuck, fuck” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, clenching harder on Yunho’s cock. “Say that again, please, please.”

“What? A puppy? Do you like to be called a good puppy?”

The pads of Yunho's fingertips digged harder into the flesh of Hongjoong’s spine as he rode him. Hongjoong’s hips rolled down to meet Yunho’s, their rhythm building up.

Hongjoong arched his back and rested his hands on Yunho's chest, fingertips brushing against Yunho’s nipples. He played with one of them while Yunho licked his lips hungrily, his cock sliding home with each movement.

Hongjoong kept playing with Yunho’s nipples, eating up all the small noises that Yunho allowed Hongjoong to taste, until Yunho crashed their lips together. Hongjoong whimpered against his mouth as Yunho surged up to meet his tempo, balls clapping loudly against Hongjoong’s ass.

“Maybe you like being a bad puppy? Is that why you got so drunk you could barely walk and yet remembered who you belonged to?” Yunho asked, groaning.

Hongjoong’s chest and face flushed a bright red in embarrassment.

“Say it, baby, come on. Don’t be shy,” Yunho whispered into his ear, licking it.

“Fuck, I’m your puppy, I’m your dirty fucking puppy.” Hongjoong whimpered.

Hongjoong’s steady hip movements faltered for a moment as Yunho’s cock brushed against his spot over and over again. Yunho’s face twisted in pleasure, Hongjoong riding him faster until he was bouncing on Yunho’s length with ease.

“You’re hole is so wet, Joongie.” Yunho keened, squeezing Hongjoong’s ass. “With this ass, always walking around the office like you were all innocent, but I could always tell you wanted me to fuck the brat out of you.”

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and the slick noises of Hongjoong taking Yunho’s cock. Yunho gasped, bucking up into Hongjoong, the feeling of Hongjoong riding him so wonderfully tight almost too much to bear.

Yunho's eyes, dark and intense, lingered on Hongjoong's flushed face.  Hongjoong's breathing was ragged, his muscles straining, but his eyes still held a spark of defiance.  "Tired, puppy?" Yunho murmured, his voice a low growl, a silken caress against Hongjoong's ear. He trailed kisses down Hongjoong's neck, his tongue eliciting a low groan.

Hongjoong nodded, his body slumping slightly, but his gaze held a stubborn fire.  "Just... a little," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

Yunho's smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath hot against Hongjoong's skin. "A little?"

He moved with unnerving swiftness, pulling Hongjoong up and onto the edge of the couch.  His fingers brushed against Hongjoong's thigh, sending shivers down his spine.  Yunho’s touch was a blend of gentleness and force.

"You're so beautiful, Joongie," Yunho purred, his voice laced with admiration and desire. Yunho's gaze lingered on the lines of Hongjoong's body, the soft curves of his hips and thighs.

He increased the pace, his movements becoming more frantic, more savage, each thrust a testament to his passion.  Hongjoong's moans turned into cries, his body arching against Yunho's, a symphony of pain and pleasure echoing through the room.  He was no longer just tired; he was lost in Yunho’s insatiable drive.

Yunho continued, his movements relentless, until the room dissolved into a blur. 

“Cum, puppy. Cum for me,” Yunho whimpered, almost a begging tone.

Hongjoong moaned on top of Yunho’s lap, bouncing harder, cry of pure desire escaping between his lips. A large pool of cum shot from Hongjoong’s cock, hitting against Yunho’s stomach, untouched.

At the same time, Yunho buckled his knees, fucking Hongjoong with quickness, almost as if he was using Hongjoong as a sex toy, shooting a load of warm cum inside Hongjoong’s wet and used hole.

Hongjoong collapsed against Yunho, hugging him. The combination of their ragged breathing and scent lingered beneath the surface of Yunho’s apartment, warmth embracing them.  Yunho traced the line of Hongjoong's jaw with his lips, his touch feather-light, a caress that sent a gentle shiver down Hongjoong's spine.

“Ngh,” Hongjoong moaned, clenching and unclenching his hole to feel Yunho’s cock, cum still inside him.

“Fuck, that was. Yeah,” Yunho laughed into the crook of Hongjoong’s neck, hiding.

A slow smile played on Hongjoong’s lips as he leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss, a silent acknowledgment of everything that had happened.

Hongjoong complained about feeling gross, so Yunho pulled his cock out, ignoring how much he loved seeing Hongjoong bending forward to give him some space, cum dripping between Hongjoong’s soft thighs.

They cleaned themselves and the whole mess in the living room, then decided to lay on the couch for a bit, a symphony of soft sighs and contented murmurs filling the space between them.

 Yunho wrapped an arm around Hongjoong's waist, pulling him close, the comforting weight of their bodies pressed together reminder that the night wasn’t over yet.

"Yunho," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the gentle rhythm of their breathing. "It stopped raining."

Yunho, almost half-asleep, stirred beside him. "And it's...night," he murmured in response.

"Do you want to go on a walk?" Hongjoong asked, his voice filled with hesitance. “Clear our heads.”

Yunho smiled, opening his eyes fully, a glimmer of warmth in them.  "Of course, Joongie."

Stepping out into the crispness of the evening air brushing against their skin, the city lights twinkled below, painting the sky with a thousand stars.

"When did you realize?” Hongjoong asked.

Yunho tilted his head like a confused puppy. Although that word had another layer of meaning now for Hongjoong.

“That I love you?” Yunho said those words with such ease and confidence that it almost, almost tricked Hongjoong into not reacting.

Almost.

But his heart hammered harder against his chest. Hongjoong swallowed loudly.

“Yes.” He mumbled. “That you love me back.”

Yunho smiled fondly at Hongjoong, who’d cast his eyes to the side. Yunho clasped his hand against Hongjoong’s, quietly, softly.

“Mmm…” Yunho frowned. “Do you remember that birthday party four years ago?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips in thought.

“The one for our boss? Yeah, I think so. Didn’t we leave early?”

“We did leave early, and we took the train together. I remember how we showed our favorite songs to each other. We even shared earphones. You helped me pick one so we’d listen to it, but you were so tired you ended up falling asleep on my shoulder. I’ve never seen you so relaxed before.”

Hongjoong laughed, “That’s when you knew?”

Yunho stopped walking, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand.

“I could hear you breathing so quietly. I noticed how long your eyelashes were. You were so…” Yunho’s gaze became wet. “Close yet so far? As if you finally noticed me but you weren’t where I wanted you to be.”

An ache settled deep into Hongjoong’s bones.

“Where did you want me?” Hongjoong asked.

He already knew the answer.

“At the end of a day where we were so exhausted, the only thing in my mind was to have you in my arms, Hongjoong.” Yunho let out a choked laugh. “But you fell asleep on my shoulder and that was the closest thing to holding you. That’s when I knew I loved you, Joongie.”

Hongjoong’s heart swelled, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. He blinked rapidly, trying to avoid the tears threatening to spill. “You’re such an idiot,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Yunho’s brow furrowed, concern flickering in his gaze. “Baby—”

“No, let me finish,” Hongjoong interrupted, flushed. “You’re such an idiot because I’ve wanted to be there all along. I’ve wanted to be exactly where you wanted me. At the end of every exhausting day, in your arms, just like you said.”

Hongjoong reached up, his hands trembling slightly, and cupped Yunho’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had trailed down Yunho’s cheeks.

“You make me feel safe, Yunho,” he murmured. “And you make me feel loved in ways I never thought I would ever experience.”

Yunho’s eyes softened, a small, tearful laugh escaping him. “You deserve everything, Joongie.”

Hongjoong leaned in, but Yunho closed the distance instinctively, as if they were two magnets. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss full of promises.

A kiss that breathed of life, of safety, of finding each other. When they finally pulled apart, Hongjoong rested his forehead against Yunho’s, a small smile curving his lips.

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” Hongjoong giggled.

Yunho chuckled, hands settling on Hongjoong’s waist, pulling him closer. “Then I guess we’re both idiots.”

Hongjoong pressed another kiss to Yunho’s lips, hugging him tight while Yunho swayed them side to side. Finally, Hongjoong thought. He was exactly where he was meant to be.