Archive of Our Own

⚜

“Please… Please…” The man squirms on the bed, naked, and his wrists are bound together expertly with fiber rope, which is then fastened to the thick, oak, headboard of the king sized bed. There’s a black lace blindfold covering his eyes and he’s lucky there isn’t a matching gag.

He’s decently handsome: a sharp jawline, prominent nose, and rosy lips slicked with spit. He was tall when standing, towering over six feet probably, with long, slim legs and a lean, defined torso with little to no body fat. His porcelain skin is unmarred, unblemished, and looks almost too soft to the touch.

There’s an obsidian black vibrator whirring relentlessly in his backside, the end sticking out to show how his entrance clenches around the girth. A fleshlight, held by a fully clothed Seonghwa, engulfs his cock as the man desperately tries to buck up into it to find release. 

The reason for his inability to orgasm? An unforgiving onyx ring secured at the base of his cock.

“Please, what?” Seonghwa asks innocently, the fleshlight warm in his palm from the man’s heat. It’s been almost a half hour now, and he’s both surprised and impressed the man has held out for this long.

Most of them don’t last ten minutes. The record before this was sixteen minutes.

“P-Please, please…”

“Use your words. I didn’t gag you for a reason.” Seonghwa uses his other hand to dip his index and third fingers into the man’s panting mouth and drags them onto the flat of his tongue. The man licks eagerly, but then Seonghwa is removing his fingers to trail the wet digits down the man’s naked chest, circling a peaked nipple.

The man yelps and his legs draw together and up to his chest, to which Seonghwa smacks his knees. “Please, Mr. Park! I-I want t-to cum…”

“Poor thing,” Seonghwa tuts, “but thank you for letting me know.” 

He’s lasted the longest, but he’s definitely the loudest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls the fleshlight off of his cock, tosses it carelessly over his shoulder, and then reaches down to swiftly remove the vibrator.

The man whimpers at the sudden loss of pleasure and blinks in sad confusion when Seonghwa rips the blindfold off of his eyes.

The raven haired man stands from the bed and wipes his hands with the clean hand towel folded neatly on the bedside table. “Sannie will untie you and remove the cock ring. And how rude of me, I didn’t catch your name…?”

The man can only stare, dumbstruck, at Seonghwa with his mouth hanging open. A line of drool drips from the corner of his mouth and onto his chest while his hard cock and gaping hole twitch with want.

Seonghwa allows him a few more seconds of staring before he says with a hardened tone, “your name. I don’t like to ask twice.”

The man’s mouth finally snaps shut and he licks his lips before uttering, “K-K-Kim D-Dowan.”

Seonghwa lights up, “thank you, Mr. Kim Dowan. We’re done here.”

Dowan lets out a whine, upset and unfulfilled.

Seonghwa turns to leave but then whirls around to look at the man, who’s trembling with lust due to the denial of his orgasm. “Oh, and would you be so kind as to send a message to your employer for me?”

Dowan can only nod.

Seonghwa tosses the used towel onto the man’s naked body and it lands over his exposed groin, “tell my husband that if he wants to fuck me over, he should do it himself.”

And then he turns on his heel and exits.

⚜

Seonghwa has always known Hongjoong to be at his side, up until six years ago.

They were best friends from birth since their fathers were practically joined at the hip, both being powerful men and leaders in their respective syndicates: Kim Hajoon of the Kim Family in Gyeonggi and Park Sungyong of the Park Family in South Gyeongsang. 

The Kim-Park friendship was an unusual one; gangs typically didn’t mingle or associate with one another unless they were family, due to fights and bidding wars over businesses, establishments, commodities, and properties. But the Kims and Parks found a way to assist one another in those aspects rather than clash. Hajoon and Sungyong passed that mentality down to their sons.

When Seonghwa and Hongjoong were six-years-old, they both went to the same private school for first grade. Of course the school was a well renowned one, with many of South Korea’s most important and powerful people sending their children there, so Seonghwa and Hongjoong really weren’t anything special.

And bullying was no different at private schools, it just lacked discipline depending on who your parents were. Since everyone and their grandmother were rich and influential, staff hardly punished acts of domineering.

Seonghwa often got picked on for liking things like knitting, the colour pink, dance instead of sports, and hanging out with the female students over the males (except Hongjoong). He was a gentle and soft spoken child who was a little bit too tall for his age.

Hongjoong often got picked on for his smaller stature, blunt nature, his interest in music instead of academia, and hanging out with the female students over the males (except Seonghwa). He was an assertive and commanding child who wasn’t afraid to stick up for his friends.

The two were complete opposites yet got along perfectly as they would indulge each other in their interests: Seonghwa picked up singing because of Hongjoong and Hongjoong picked up fashion design because of Seonghwa.

By the time they were entering high school, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong begged their fathers to send them elsewhere as they had had enough of ‘snobby private school’. They had made a few friends with the girls in their class up until that point, but they couldn’t stand the absence of penalties for the many insults and physical punches that were thrown their way by the bad seeds.

Hajoon and Sungyong agreed, and when they were fourteen-years-old, Seonghwa and Hongjoong attended an upper class public school with minimal security.

High school was uneventful in that no one knew who they were except the principal of the school to avoid special treatment and to allow for them to make other friends throughout the years. The only downside was that they weren’t prohibited to invite any of these friends over, which only brought the two closer together.

The year of their fifteenth birthdays, Seonghwa saved up his allowance to buy Hongjoong a pretty pair of marigold earrings since he had just pierced his ears and Hongjoong saved up his allowance to buy Seonghwa his first personalized piece of jewellery: a star pendant with his diamond birthstone nestled in the center, which hung low enough that it dangled in front of Seonghwa’s chest when worn.

As they grew up, their personalities seemed to flip, with Seonghwa being more outgoing of the two and Hongjoong becoming quite introverted.

They were together through a lot of new experiences going through childhood, puberty, as teenagers, and navigating young adulthood. Seonghwa would be so bold as to say Hongjoong was, and possibly still is, his first love and cherished all of the memories they created together.

Every major milestone of Seonghwa’s life involved Hongjoong.

And along the way, the two boys made friends with a few classmates in high school and college before everything fell apart the month of Hongjoong’s twenty-first birthday.

Seonghwa had planned a surprise birthday party at a club in Seoul and rented out the entire venue with his father’s approval. He invited all of their mutual friends, something that hadn't been done before, and purchased an expensive Vivienne Westwood ring for the slightly younger man.

… Only for Hongjoong to be a no-show.

Seonghwa remembers holding himself together while informing their friends that Hongjoong wasn’t coming after a few hours of restless waiting. Seonghwa remembers that pang of hurt, an ice cold lurch of his heart as if someone drove an icicle through his chest, before the worry started to seep in.

Instead of heading home, Seonghwa asked his chauffeur to bring him to the Kim household, a luxurious mansion in the upper side of Seoul.

When he burst through the doors, delirious with worry and ring box clutched in his hands, the Kim family butler calmly escorted Seonghwa to Hajoon’s study where his own father, Sungyong, was already there along with a dejected Hongjoong who couldn’t meet Seonghwa’s eye.

Of all the things that Seonghwa recalls happening in the downfall of their friendship in the past six years; all the hurt feelings, confused feelings, misery, anger, rejection, and many more, Seonghwa distinctly remembers how he felt when their fathers told him the news that would change the trajectory of his and Hongjoong’s friendship. And then Hongjoong’s reaction to it.

“Seonghwa-yah! What spectacular timing!” Hajoon had said cheerfully.

Sungyong beckoned him over and wrapped an arm around his youngest son when Seonghwa shuffled further into Hajoon’s study.

“I meant to give you a call,” Sungyong pressed a kiss to his son’s hair and then smoothed out the strands he had ruffled. “Hajoon-ah, Hongjoong-ah, and I were talking… And I guess we lost track of time. So sorry that Hongjoong wasn’t able to make your little party!”

Hongjoong’s gaze snapped up to Seonghwa at the mention of a party and his eyebrows shot up into his brown hair in shock. Of course he didn’t know, it was supposed to be a surprise.

Seonghwa gripped the ring box tucked into his palm tighter, his heart beating erratically against his ribcage in anticipation.

“Since you and Hongjoong-ah are of age and have matured into wonderful, capable young men… We’ve been thinking about the next steps of business. Expansion. Growth. And, I don’t mean to sound like an evil mastermind…” Hajoon chuckled, “domination.”

Seonghwa glanced between his father and Hajoon, and then to Hongjoong who reverted back to staring at the floor like a kicked puppy. What the hell was going on?

“Are Bumjoong hyung and Yonghyun hyung not taking over operations anymore?” Seonghwa asked hesitantly. He and Hongjoong had confided to each other in their teenage years that they were relieved to have older brothers who could carry on their family legacies.

Hajoon and Sungyong laughed heartily.

Sungyong, arm still around Seonghwa, guided his son towards Hongjoong, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to jump out of the window behind him.

“While both of your older brothers will be taking over operations,” Sungyong confirmed. “We’ve decided that an official union would be perfect to solidify the unbreakable bond between the Kims and the Parks of upper Seoul.”

“You two are already acquainted and we haven’t had any other expectation of you,” Hajoon continued. “We’ve obliged to your requests thus far with school and special events, so it’s only fair for you to fulfill this one demand that we have.”

Seonghwa stared at the top of Hongjoong’s head as he listened, the brunette’s face still downturned to avoid eye contact.

An official union.

“A marriage!” Sungyong exclaimed in excitement, vocalizing the thought that just crossed Seonghwa’s mind.

“It’ll be a grand celebration! A night to remember!” Hajoon boasted and reached out to Hongjoong and grabbed his youngest son’s hand. “Let it be known that the Kims and Parks of upper Seoul are not to be messed with!”

Sungyong did the same with Seonghwa and both men tugged their sons towards each other so that they were now face to face.

Seonghwa could count Hongjoong’s eyelashes with how close they were now standing, separated by a beautiful display box held up by Hongjoong. Seonghwa hadn’t even noticed that his friend was holding something until now.

“Go on, Hongjoong-ah,” Hajoon encouraged.

Hongjoong wordlessly unlatched the display box and lifted the top to reveal two golden wedding bands.

A marriage.

Seonghwa was momentarily entranced by the elegance of the wedding bands and the exhilarating thought of being wed to Kim Hongjoong, his best friend, his first love, and the most important person in his life, when Hongjoong finally looked up at Seonghwa to meet his eye.

And Seonghwa distinctly remembers how he felt when their gazes met at that moment over their future wedding rings at the ripe age of twenty-one.

Hongjoong looked disappointed.

Was Hongjoong not happy with this arrangement? Seonghwa saw it as a win-win.

There was only one explanation: Hongjoong didn’t love him like that.

Seonghwa felt his heart sink to his stomach and felt his stomach drop out of his ass. 

Oh.

Of course Hongjoong only saw him as a friend. He didn’t want this. Seonghwa was ruining his love life. A whole love life he could’ve had ahead of him.

As Hajoon and Sungyong explained the details of their nuptials, set to happen next month before the new year, Seonghwa swallowed his tears and heartbreak when Hongjoong, for the rest of the talk, would not look at him.

⚜

“You should just let one of them fuck you. I think it’ll alleviate a lot of stress you’ve been feeling lately,” Yunho says as he cleans his pistols. “Hell, I’ll do it.”

Seonghwa pauses his actions from where he’s inspecting the recent shipment of firearms that arrived at Diamond Manor. He looks up at his friend and right hand man, who’s already looking at him and is now rubbing his pistol suggestively. “You want to fuck me?”

Yunho snorts, “who doesn’t?”

Seonghwa scoffs. “My husband.”

It’s Yunho’s turn to pause his actions. “I’m pretty— no, I’m very sure Hongjoong hyung would fuck you.”

They’re both in the armoury of the manor, which is on the other side of the building to allow for it to connect to both the indoor shooting range and the outdoor one. Seonghwa cleared a small corner of the armoury to allow for a mini target practice in the case that one wanted to quickly test a weapon without having to set up the range.

The current target is a full length photo of Hongjoong that San took in Hongjoong’s club, In Your Fantasy. He’s shirtless and enticing, and there’s a glint of a chain around his neck but the bottom of the necklace is hidden under the jacket draped over his shoulders. Seonghwa had it blown up to life size and spent a lot of money on ink and special paper to print it out. It’s now pinned to the wall with so many bullet holes in the crotch area that the bottom half of the photo is barely hanging on to the top half.

The raven haired man picks up one of the guns in the shipment box. It’s gorgeous, an 1872 Swiss revolver, and Seonghwa checks to see if it’s loaded. When he flips the barrel out, it’s indeed filled with ammo, so he snaps the barrel back in, cocks the gun, aims, and fires right in the forehead of the Hongjoong photo.

Yunho stares at where the bullet hole, perfectly placed in the center of the forehead, is steaming from photo-Hongjoong’s face.

Seonghwa struts up to it and brushes invisible dirt off of photo-Hongjoong’s jacket. “Alright darling, if you want to fuck me, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

“You know this goes both ways, right?” Yunho says as he watches Seonghwa gaze fondly at photo-Hongjoong. He puts down his current pistol and picks up another one. “You keep telling his ‘gifts’ that he should come over here, but you never go over there. You know his address, too.”

Seonghwa frowns, “he’s the one who wants nothing to do with this marriage. Why should I go there?”

Yunho sighs heavily, “Seonghwa, who told you that?”

“Mingi said he has many lovers,” Seonghwa says sourly.

“I don’t think that’s what Mingi said. You must’ve heard wrong.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and finally steps away from caressing photo-Hongjoong. “Whatever. Tell Sannie to print another one of these. He gets bonus treats if he can take a new photo. I’ve been very pleased with his photography lately.”

“He’s not a cat,” Yunho chuckles amusedly but inquires anyway, “what treat do I get for telling Sannie?”

Seonghwa taps his lips in thought. He notices Yunho following the movement with his eyes and grins, “I’ll tie both you and Sannie to each other and give you the double ended dildo I just bought. The last one to cum gets that Polaroid of me in that lingerie set I bought myself for my birthday. Never been seen before.”

Yunho, face beet red, accidentally fires the pistol in his hand and Seonghwa easily dodges the bullet by pivoting his body. The bullet shatters the glass case of swords behind him and shards scatter across the tile of the armoury. 

The raven haired man clicks his tongue. “Yunnie-yah, I just polished that glass. And those are one-of-a-kind Japanese katanas! From the Edo period!”

“I’ll— Er, sorry. I’ll get Nayoung-ssi to clean it.”

“Thank you!”

Seonghwa heads towards his bedroom before he checks in on operations at the theatre. They’re scheduled to be putting on Giselle this evening. 

When he reaches the magnificent staircase that splits off into two directions to the upper floor, he scowls at the sight of a giant portrait in the center of the division.

A ridiculously majestic, golden frame borders an oil painting portrait of his wedding night. In the picture is himself wearing an all white tuxedo, sitting rigidly still on a red, velveted armchair. His left hand is folded over his right on his crossed knee to show off the gold band on his wedding finger, and his eyes are void of any emotion as the corners of his lips are painted upwards in a smile.

He remembers the painter pleading for him to smile, but Seonghwa had refused. The painter ended up fabricating a smile anyway, something that infuriated Seonghwa when he received the final product. 

Standing behind him is Hongjoong, also dressed in a white tuxedo, with his left hand on Seonghwa’s right shoulder to show off his wedding band as well. Seonghwa doesn’t know why, but the painter captured the slight furrow of Hongjoong’s eyebrows and the brunette is showing a bit of teeth in his soft smile.

He’s so handsome in every media form, whether it be an oil painting or San’s sneaky photos in the club, so stupidly beautiful. Seonghwa glares at his wedding portrait one last time before ascending the rest of the way up the stairs.

Seonghwa resides in Diamond Manor, an enormous property where he lives and runs his theatre house of the same name. He’s the director and coordinates shows of high class and quality: opera, plays, orchestra performances, ballets. Behind the scenes, Seonghwa assists his father and brother, Park Sungyong and Yonghyun, with storing and trading rare and vintage weaponry.

Yunho, San, and Yeosang, his most trusted companions, also reside in Diamond Manor and aid with the theatre and the syndicate-related tasks.

Seonghwa’s husband of six years, Kim Hongjoong, on the other hand…

Hongjoong resides at In Your Fantasy, a huge establishment that doubles as a night club. Similar to Seonghwa, Hongjoong lives in an attached space to the club and assists his father and brother, Kim Hajoon and Bumjoong, with auctioning off antique valuables.

They’re married but from the moment they tied the knot, they began to grow apart to the point of being strangers. Hongjoong threw himself into building In Your Fantasy while Seonghwa tried to make the marriage work.

They used to live together in a fancy loft, and Seonghwa would stay up and wait for his husband after cooking a nice meal, but soon the brunette would stop coming home all together in favour of sleeping at the club. 

Once Seonghwa started losing hope and was convinced that Hongjoong had given up, he decided to move out and build his own business with Diamond Manor to distract himself. He had moved out without a word to Hongjoong and left his star pendant and a note on the dining table.

They began leading their own lives. They would only see each other during family holidays, call each other for business related purposes, and would mainly communicate through their family, lackeys, friends, and trusted advisors.

Seonghwa has grown resentful.

But he’s still an honest man, and despite the six years of bitter what-ifs, Seonghwa cannot let go of the twenty one years before that of fond and affectionate memories.

Seonghwa still wears the wedding ring around his finger and has regretted leaving the star pendant, though he reminds himself it’s for the best.

One of the worst parts about this is…

They’ve kissed before for show, multiple times, but they haven’t consummated the marriage. Seonghwa seeks pleasure with toys and experiments with what he watches, but he’s never taken a lover to bed. Despite his freaky nature (as Yunho likes to call it), the raven haired man, at twenty-seven-years-old, is still a virgin.

Seonghwa won’t settle for anybody but his distant husband, and credits said husband for why he’s the way he is.

He longs to have Hongjoong’s hands on him. In him. He wants to ravish the shorter man and leave as many marks on his body as possible, payback for all the years he’s denied Seonghwa of affection and attention. He wants to kiss him vigorously, suck the oxygen out of his lungs so he can only speak Seonghwa’s name while making him forget his own name. Seonghwa wants to bend him over and be bent over, wants to fuck into Hongjoong’s tight heat and wants Hongjoong to rearrange his guts.

He’s never hated and loved a person so much.

It only got worse when Hongjoong started sending men over to Diamond Manor biweekly.

A new plaything would arrive on his doorstep at the end of every second week, like a pay cheque. They were all men; usually taller than Seonghwa, broad, sturdy, undeniably attractive, and they would flirt their way in through the entrance when Seonghwa would answer the door.

And then Seonghwa would have his fun in pleasuring them. He would remain fully clothed and entertain himself with the show: the way they always begged, pleaded, and cried for release. The way they were always on the verge of delirium with the delicious sting of tears gathering in the corners of their eyes. The way they would beg to penetrate or be penetrated by Seonghwa, to feel something more.

And every time Seonghwa would stop just before they found that release so they could send his message back to Hongjoong: “Come over here and do it yourself.”

⚜

Seonghwa is convinced that Hongjoong is sending these playthings over to him to distract him. Because they’re sent biweekly, it seems like they always arrive before his opening nights at Diamond Manor.

Seonghwa knows Hongjoong is competitive, the shorter man has been like that since their youth. He must be annoyed that Diamond Manor is doing so well in comparison to In Your Fantasy; he heard from his older brother, Yonghyun, that the club’s revenue has gone down in the last year. Meanwhile, every Diamond Manor performance and headliner sells out within twenty-four hours.

… Not that Seonghwa is comparing or anything.

He gets a horrible message that afternoon when Yeosang lets himself into the director’s office and holds out his own cell phone to the raven haired man.

It’s your father, Yeosang mouths to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa shakes his head rapidly. His phone lit up with his father’s name earlier, but he silenced it as he had work to do.

Before Seonghwa can look back down, Yeosang says, “here he is, sir!” And shoves his phone to Seonghwa’s ear.

Seonghwa mouths to Yeosang, I’m busy! I don’t want to talk to him!

You have to! Yeosang wags a finger at him and Seonghwa tries to duck under the phone held to his ear.

Yeosang, no!

Seonghwa, yes!

They silently fight over the phone as Yeosang tries to force the device to Seonghwa’s ear and Seonghwa tries to press the ‘end call’ button. They’re smacking each other and playing tug-of-war with Yeosang’s phone when the younger man quickly taps ‘speakerphone’ just as Sungyong says, “Seonghwa-yah? Are you there?”

“Yes he is!” Yeosang says and Seonghwa faceplants onto his desk in vexation.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Are you sick? You sound nasally.”

It’s because his nose is smushed into the glass of his desk. Seonghwa lifts his head to rest his chin on the surface instead and sighs, “I’m fine. What’s up?”

“I have great news about the next shipment of blades and arms. They’re vintage, very rare, from Fuzhou, China. When you receive the shipment, you’re going to have to take it to Hongjoong-ah—”

Seonghwa, for the life of him, cannot stop the guttural groan that rumbles out of his throat.

Sungyong doesn’t say anything after hearing his son’s groan, and then the Park patriarch sighs. “Son, I don’t understand why you and Hongjoong-ah don’t get along? You—”

“— Used to be such good friends,” Seonghwa finishes for his father in a mocking tone. He’s heard this a thousand times too many in the past six years. “We don’t have to talk about this again, Dad. When the shipment comes, I’ll have Sannie bring it over.”

“No,” Sungyong says sternly. “You will bring it over.”

“No! San has been—”

“Seonghwa,” Sungyong booms on the other end. “This nonsense stops now. We have a big, big, BIG plan for this shipment. If I hear from Hongjoong that you sent San, I’ll have you married off to the Yu family and shipped to Australia… In a cardboard box!”

Seonghwa protests brattily, “you can’t, I’m already married!”

“Then act like it!” Sungyong barks, “you’re bringing the shipment over!” And the line goes dead with a click.

Seonghwa inhales sharply and holds out his hand calmly, “Yeosangie, could you please pass me one of the kunai in my cabinet?”

Yeosang puts his phone down on Seonghwa’s desk before walking over to said cabinet. The secretary pulls out a sharpened, leaf shaped dagger with its handle wrapped.

Once he places the kunai in Seonghwa’s palm, the director stands from his chair and whips the dagger at a mid-sized poster of Hongjoong pinned to the back of his office door and the blade embeds itself in the chest area where photo-Hongjoong is draped with a jewelled breastplate.

There are already three kunai in the poster: one is in the neck, one is in the left eye, and one is in the mouth.

“Do you know when the shipment is arriving?” Seonghwa asks Yeosang distantly.

“Tomorrow, if I recall.”

Seonghwa stares at photo-Hongjoong. His skin is beautiful, his nose pointed perfectly, and his lips downturned in a little pout. There are little horns nestled in his hair and Seonghwa would like nothing more than to grab those horns while Hongjoong pounds into him…

“Sangie, do I still have that pink wig?”

Yeosang’s eyebrows furrow in thought, “the one you wore on Halloween last year?”

“Yes.”

“I think so, it may have been put in the costume room.”

“I’m going to need it tomorrow.”

⚜

The next day, the shipment comes through and Seonghwa glares at the eight wooden crates stacked up on a single pallet when the driver opens the back of his truck. Beside him, Yunho chuckles at his expression of disdain.

“Good morning, Seonghwa-ssi, Yunho-ssi!” The usual driver, a young man named Jaeyoung, greets from the truck.

Seonghwa musters up all the willpower in his facial muscles to give Jaeyoung a polite smile. “Good morning, Jaeyoung-ssi. Before you unload, I’m wondering if you can re-route this to a different location?”

Jaeyoung laughs nervously as he prepares his pallet jack, “uh, where to, Seonghwa-ssi?”

“It’s a club. In Your Fantasy, in Seoul—”

Jaeyoung gives Seonghwa a grim smile, “sorry, Seonghwa-ssi. Mr. Park said you’d ask that—”

“What if I gave you a thousand dollars—”

“And that I have to deny any bribe you offer.”

Seonghwa blows a raspberry. His father knows him too well. “Fine. Do as you must. Let Yunho know if you have any questions.”

While Jaeyoung prepares to unload and with Yunho taking over, Seonghwa leaves the dock to head towards the garage.

“Sannie!” Seonghwa calls out and the dark haired man jumps from where he’s lounging in a reclining chair in his personalized corner of the garage.

It’s decked out with two sofas, three reclining chairs, a massage chair, an impressive stereo setup, multicoloured lights, a wall of mirrors, and a 98 inch ultra, high definition, flat screen television. San loves to relax and dance in the garage in his free time. Surrounding this cozy corner are at least ten expensive cars varying in make and model.

“Yes, Hwa hyung?” San scurries over to his speaker system to turn the volume down when the taller man approaches him.

“Prepare a car to take me to In Your Fantasy. You’ll likely need one of the vans.”

San’s eyes widen comically. “You want me to take you?”

Seonghwa huffs, “yes.”

San doesn’t believe it, “as in… You will be in the car with me. Me and you.”

Seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes. That’s what I said.”

Without another word, San’s hands shoot out to pat Seonghwa’s chest and then travels down to his waist and hips, and when he starts patting Seonghwa’s upper thighs, the older man catches his wrists. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking to see if you’re armed,” San answers and straightens up. “You’re not going over there to kill Hongjoong hyung, are you?”

“Hm, that’s not a bad idea,” Seonghwa ponders and San frowns at him. “Ugh, no, I’m not going over there to kill him. But I may bring a sword.”

San’s frown deepens. “Seonghwa hyung…”

“Relax Sannie,” Seonghwa purrs sweetly and encircles his arms around San’s neck. The younger man’s hands instinctively come up to the raven haired man’s waist. “Have you heard of sword play in the bedroom—”

San pinches Seonghwa’s waist and Seonghwa retracts his arms with a yelp. “Hyung, if you’re planning to impose any harm on Hongjoong hyung, I can’t take you there. It’s not right.”

“It’s not right?” Seonghwa hisses, “you know what’s not right? That the man that I've been wed to for six years won't let me bounce on his cock.”

San’s cheeks flush but doesn't address it and he assesses the director, “hyung. This is exactly what I mean. Maybe you should cool off before we go?”

“Absolutely not. We’re going now. When Yunho and Jaeyoung finish unloading the shipment, you and Yunho will load it into the van, and then we are going to In Your Fantasy.”

San refuses Seonghwa again, “you’re agitated. And probably armed—”

“You just checked, I’m not carrying—”

“Knowing you, there might be a sheathed dagger up your ass.”

Seonghwa pauses and then chuckles ruefully, “that only happened once.”

“Hyung!”

“Fine,” Seonghwa relents. “I won’t bring anything, just me. Yeosang and Yunho will come too, so if I act out, you can hit me with that paddle I just bought—”

“Hyung!” San squeals.

“Okay,” Seonghwa pinches the younger man’s reddening cheeks, “I’ll spank you with the paddle, I’ll have Yeosang-ah make a list. I’m gonna go get ready, I’ll meet you at the front in an hour.” The raven haired man pats San’s face affectionately and walks back towards the manor.

⚜

Seonghwa feels the air around him change the moment he steps foot in the club.

He’s wearing an ink black crop top that’s only zipped to his mid chest to show off the white silver, Dior chain piece that brings attention to his flawless skin. The jewellery hangs down past his navel and peeks out underneath the crop so the eye is drawn to the band of his underwear that teases just above the hem of his dark slacks.  

He styled the pink wig onto his head so it frames his face nicely and put on some eye makeup, concealer, and a matte, cherry blossom pink tint to his lips. With two minutes to spare before he had to meet San out front, he applied a single rhinestone under his left eye.

His heeled boots click against the luxury vinyl tile, followed by Yunho, Yeosang, and San’s footsteps.

In Your Fantasy is gigantic: the dance floor takes up a large portion of the open space and it’s surrounded by red velveted flooring that leads to the bar, stage, and private rooms. There’s a visible second floor that hosts silver dance poles, booths, and more entertainment including pool, mini hoops, poker tables, and varying slot machines.

Seonghwa’s gaze zeroes in on one of the private rooms in the back, behind the spiral staircases: the paint around the doorframe is chipped from being opened and closed frequently, and the label on the front panel of the door has scratch marks around the edges. It currently reads ‘STORAGE’, though Seonghwa could’ve sworn it used to be labelled as any other ‘Private Room’ when Hongjoong first opened the club.

The strangest thing about this room is that, unlike the other private rooms, it had three locks on it.

Seonghwa tears his eyes away from the ‘STORAGE’ room and waves to the first employee he can find, which happens to be a young man no older than twenty-one, who cowers when he and Seonghwa make eye contact at the bar.

The director saunters over to the man and gives him a once over, “are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

The man is handsome, tall, and heavily tattooed. “I-I started a few weeks ago. Um, s-sir—”

“Oh, welcome!” Seonghwa rests his elbows on the bar counter and interlocks his fingers like he’s the owner of the club. “Tell me, do you like your boss?”

“My boss?” Confusion flashes across the man’s face and then he stutters, “y-yeah, Hongjoong-ssi is very kind.”

“Kind…” Seonghwa regards the young man again and this time he trails his eyes down the tattoos swirling around the man’s arms. “What do you think about theatre?”

“Threatre?”

“Yes, like plays, dance, and music. You’d make for a great stage hand. Do you want to work for me instead?”

The young man’s eyes bulge out of his head. “H-Huh? You? Sorry, who are—”

Before the man can continue, another man exits from the swinging door behind the bar that leads into the kitchen. He has an eyebrow piercing in his left eyebrow, slicked back hair, and carries an aura of indifference.

“Hyung! You’re— Wait a second,” Wooyoung narrows his eyes at Seonghwa and similar to how Seonghwa was regarding the young man, Wooyoung takes in Seonghwa’s outfit and his pink hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m poaching your employees,” Seonghwa answers honestly and then looks at the young man again, “so what do you say?”

“Yooshin, can you clean the ice machine?” Wooyoung orders instead and the young man is eager to scurry through the swinging door, thoroughly confused by the interaction with this pink haired stranger. Once Yooshin is gone, Wooyoung sets four rocks glasses on the counter. “No seriously, what are you doing here?”

Seonghwa lets Wooyoung pour the liquor into each glass. When the bartender caps the bottle of alcohol, Seonghwa lifts his cup and inspects it. He swirls the amber liquor around. “And how are you, Wooyoungie?”

Wooyoung gives the director a serious look, “I’m fantastic. Hyung, what are you doing here?”

Seonghwa lifts the glass to his lips, “I’m here to see my lovely husband.”

Wooyoung repeats what San had suspected earlier, “are you armed?” And then the younger man snatches the glass of alcohol out of Seonghwa’s hand before the pink haired man can take a sip. “Maybe I should’ve asked that before I gave you alcohol.”

“Why?”

Even Yunho, Yeosang, and San give Seonghwa a look of disbelief with Wooyoung.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“May we remind you of Christmas of 2023?” Yunho says.

“You got super drunk, and then you took the recurve bow off of the mantel,” Yeosang prompts.

“Hm, it’s coming back to me…” Seonghwa’s mind fills in the blanks. “If I remember correctly, it wasn’t a big deal.”

Wooyoung’s mouth hangs open incredulously and before he can respond to that, another voice is saying, “I needed eight stitches.”

All five men’s heads turn to the source of the voice by the stage: his brown hair is parted slightly to the side and his soft bangs fall over his eyes. His ears are void of his usual piercings and he’s wearing a simple black polo tucked into khaki pants, and even that is so infuriatingly attractive that Seonghwa hates that his heart beat picks up.

“You shot me,” Hongjoong finishes as he walks over to them and this close, Seonghwa can smell his stupidly intoxicating cologne. “With a bow and arrow.”

“I used a pencil as ammo,” Seonghwa says snootily and hopes his cheeks aren’t flushed as they feel heated, “hardly close to an arrow. What do you need your left shoulder for, anyway? You’re right handed.”

Hongjoong shrugs a bit too nonchalantly for someone who’s recalling being shot by their spouse, and jokes, “you have a point. But I’ve been training my left hand more, so I’m getting pretty ambidextrous.”

Seonghwa snorts out an involuntary giggle and imagines that Hongjoong can now fuck him with his fingers at the same pace as he jacks him off. Especially with his musical abilities and rhythm? He could ruin Seonghwa. 

The thought makes Seonghwa both mad and horny. One of his worst combinations.

“Shut up,” Seonghwa demands for lack of anything better to say. He knows his cheeks are red now, there’s no denying the burn of embarrassment and lust. When Hongjoong’s lips quirk up into a grin and Seonghwa sees his aggravatingly straight teeth, Seonghwa gets another waft of his refreshing, spiced citrus cologne. “You smell.”

Hongjoong brings his wrist up to his cute nose, “do I? Good or bad?”

Seonghwa has fantasized about bracketing his arms around Hongjoong’s head, pinning the shorter man against the headboard as he rides the club owner for three consecutive rounds so he can’t walk straight for days. And fantasy-Hongjoong would nose at and nip at the skin of Seonghwa’s wrist with his sharp canines, right at his pulse point, sending a jolt to Seonghwa’s heart.

“Bad, o-obviously,” Seonghwa stutters and detests that he got dolled up and Hongjoong is the one making him flustered. 

The pink haired man turns on his heel and glares at Yunho, Yeosang, and San, who are all snickering into their hands. “Choi San, bring the van around back. Jung Woouyoung, prepare your nearest pallet jack. We’re here to drop something off and then we’re leaving. Immediately.”

Everyone does as told and then the pallet of eight wooden crates of rare weapons are now on Hongjoong’s loading dock. Wooyoung offers Yunho, Yeosang, and San some of the lunch he just cooked before they arrived and the three men agree easily.

That leaves Seonghwa and Hongjoong alone on the loading dock and Seonghwa taps the crates with feigned fondness, “alright. Bye, Hongjoong-ah, see you next year. Or maybe never. You would know.”

Before Seonghwa can strut past him, Hongjoong catches the taller man’s slender wrist in his grip. “Hwa-yah, did your father not…?”

Seonghwa stares at where Hongjoong is holding his wrist. They only ever make physical contact during holidays and meetings to put on a front for their families and business partners.

The theatre director snatches his hand out of the club owner’s hold. “Did my father not what?”

Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pocket and looks elsewhere. “Uh, he was supposed to tell you about where this shipment is going and brief you on the plan…”

Seonghwa glances at the wooden crates. They're huge, and according to Sungyong, rare. The Park patriarch did mention that there was a ‘big plan' for the shipment, but Seonghwa has fulfilled Sungyong’s request of delivering it to Hongjoong himself, so why does he care where it's going now?

“I trust that you'll get it done,” Seonghwa says and moves to leave again but Hongjoong catches his waist this time and slides his arm around the pink haired man. He uses the momentum from Seonghwa walking to pull the taller man into his side.

Seonghwa, surprised, stumbles into Hongjoong and wraps his arms around the brunette’s shoulders to steady himself as he feels strong fingers dig into the exposed flesh of his waist. The coolness of Hongjoong's rings pressed into his already heated skin has Seonghwa swallowing thickly.

“We’re to deliver this to the Kim-Dos. On the east side of Seoul.” Hongjoong briefly glances down at Seonghwa’s mouth but his gaze is quick to snap back up.

Seonghwa is already looking at him. Why are Hongjoong’s eyelashes so fucking long?! “Okay, good luck with that.”

Hongjoong’s fingers tighten around his waist and the director has to bite his tongue to keep from letting out a humiliating moan. “Hwa, we have to deliver it. Together.”

“There’s no we, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says venomously and finally drops his hands from around Hongjoong’s shoulders to his chest. He gives the brunette a harsh push to put distance in between them though Seonghwa feels the ghostly touch of the shorter man’s hand on his midriff. “I don’t have to do anything, especially with you.”

The two, now a foot apart, stare at each other. Hongjoong’s gaze is contrite, whereas Seonghwa’s is aggrieved.

“Hwa,” Hongjoong says but doesn’t move to get any closer to his husband. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and gulps. Seonghwa watches his Adam’s apple bob, eyes drawn to that silver chain around Hongjoong’s neck, and contemplates attempting to leave again.

This interaction is the longest they’ve had in six years. Alone. Seonghwa is afraid that if he stays for another minute he might have to drop to his knees and suck Hongjoong’s cock.

Seonghwa is about to turn around when Hongjoong blurts something unexpected, “you look beautiful, by the way.”

The compliment shocks Seonghwa and he feels a little small and shrinks in on himself. The pink haired man crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly self conscious, and scans their surroundings.

The loading dock is empty. There’s boxes, crates, and heavy duty, metal shelving units. Hongjoong has no reason to compliment him as nobody is here to force them to fake their facade of a marriage.

“You don’t have to say that,” Seonghwa murmurs. “There’s no one around.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows draw together and his expression pinches, like he’s in pain. 

Seonghwa scowls at it and bodily turns away from his husband. Hongjoong has no right to be in any sort of discomfort, has no idea of the torment and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Seonghwa for the past six years.

“I’m leaving,” Seonghwa declares and struts up to the exit.

Hongjoong darts to the door first and stands in front of it to block him. “Seonghwa… Your father instructed us to deliver it together… Tonight. The Kim-Dos are expecting us at their residence for dinner.” And then he adds shyly, “it’s a double date.”

At the mention of his father and a double date, Seonghwa takes out his phone and dials.

“Hello?”

“Ship me to Australia. Do it. But I am not going in a cardboard box.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Sungyong exhales. “... Hi, Hongjoong-ah.”

“Hi, Dad,” Hongjoong greets sheepishly.

“Is my son giving you trouble?”

“Trouble?” Seonghwa scoffs and glares at Hongjoong. “Don’t call my dad ‘Dad’! You have your own dad!”

“I’ve insisted he call me that since your union,” Sungyong explains and then, more authoritatively, he says, “Seonghwa. We’ve been trying to find an in with the Kim-Dos for decades now. They’ve only expressed interest in recent years when the news of your and Hongjoong’s marriage was made public.”

“So you’re using us,” Seonghwa concludes bitterly.

“Now you’re just being spiteful,” Sungyong sighs, something he’s been doing a lot lately with Seonghwa. “You’ve been in this scene since birth, you know how business, negotiations, and dinners work, and you have to acknowledge that I’ve always been transparent with you. You knew what intentions we had with this marriage from the beginning.”

“Dad,” Hongjoong interjects before Seonghwa can respond, “could I deal with this myself? I’m sure the boys would love a free dinner, and Mingi, Jongho, and Wooyoung-ah are fans of the Kim-Dos.”

“Seonghwa-yah,” Sungyong snaps instead and says the most horrendous thing a parent could say to their child, “why can’t you be more like Hongjoong-ah?”

“You wanna fucking go there—” Seonghwa screams into his phone and Hongjoong plucks the device out of his hand before the taller man can hurl it at the wall.

“Seonghwa and I will take the shipment to the Kim-Dos tonight. If all goes well…” Hongjoong’s eyes flit to Seonghwa, who’s furious. He hesitates, like he doesn’t want to say it. His gaze lingers on Seonghwa like he’s assessing the man’s presence. “Maybe we can re-negotiate this union and… Consider a divorce.”

Divorce.

Seonghwa freezes at the word and, like the night of Hongjoong’s twenty-first birthday, his stomach drops out of his ass like a weighted bag of rocks.

Sungyong hums on the other end. “I don’t like it, but… You two have stayed married for a few years now and have done good work. Sealing the deal with the Kim-Dos would be highly beneficial to us, so afterwards… We can review the possibility of a separation.”

Of course Hongjoong is the one to suggest the divorce. After years of living apart… Years of petty exchanges… Years of a loveless marriage. 

Hongjoong doesn’t even wear his wedding ring anymore. He has a chain around his neck and many accessories adorning his hands, but his ring finger on his left hand is void of that gold band.

Maybe he has someone waiting for him. Waiting for him to legally be free of his arranged marriage that he was forced into at such a young age and now he’s ready to be rid of Seonghwa to pursue his true love.

Mingi said he had many lovers.

Those ‘gifts’ of men and sex were probably him pitying Seonghwa. Trying to soften the blow for the news of his own real lover.

Seonghwa’s fists clench and suddenly the wedding band around his ring finger seems too tight. His heart hammers against his chest, disoriented and bemused, unsure of if he’s about to cry in anger or sadness.

What would their relationship be like if they hadn’t been forced to wed like this?

“— Hwa?” Hongjoong’s gentle voice has Seonghwa’s fingers unfurling from his fists.

“Fine,” Seonghwa mutters, holding back the hot tears stinging the backs of his eyeballs. “We’ll go to the Kim-Dos. And then you can have your fucking divorce.” The pink haired man swipes his phone out of Hongjoong’s grip, says a final ‘goodbye’ to his father on the line, and forcefully moves Hongjoong out of the way of the exit. “Meet me at Diamond Manor at 4PM. Don’t be late or I won’t use a pencil this time.”

Hongjoong doesn’t stop him for a third time.

⚜

Hongjoong arrives at Diamond Manor fifteen minutes early and messages Seonghwa in their sparse text thread that he’s outside.

Seonghwa trudges out of the manor, dressed down after wiping off most of his make-up and taking off the pink wig. He’s now in a crisp, white dress shirt with a light wash denim overcoat, a Chanel belt cinches his waist, and a faux leather shawl is draped over his front. He wanted to dress to impress for the dinner but not too over the top.

There’s a kris dagger strapped to his thigh, a pocket knife in his boot, and a pistol bound to his calf. Though he knows the Kim-Dos are harmless, it’s better to be prepared when dining with other syndicates, something Sungyong taught Seonghwa from a very young age. You never know if things could take a turn for the worst.

The raven haired man stands beside Hongjoong’s Mercedes-Benz EQV van as it comes to a stop and fixes a hard glare on his husband, who winds the tinted window down halfway from the backseat.

“You can’t even arrive on time,” Seonghwa glowers.

“I’m early,” Hongjoong says in bewilderment.

“Exactly. 3:43PM is not 4PM.”

“It’s better to be early than late.”

“No it’s not, you’ve caught me off guard,” Seonghwa says flatly, “I’m now unprepared and this is unacceptable.”

“Well,” Hongjoong’s lips press together in a thin line as he examines Seonghwa’s outfit; not a single hair is out of place on Seonghwa’s perfect head. “How much longer will you need?”

Seonghwa huffs. Why is Hongjoong being so considerate? “Six years,” Seonghwa replies contemptuously.

Hongjoong grimaces and gives Seonghwa an apologetic look. His eyes round out and his mouth downturns into a dumb, adorable pout that accentuates his fuller bottom lip. 

He’s so fucking stupid and Seonghwa wants to shove his tongue down his throat and lick every orifice on his body.

“I’m sorry, Hwa,” Hongjoong says so sincerely that Seonghwa second guesses what exactly he’s apologizing for.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs them after the brunette’s apology. It’s eventually broken by another voice from within the van.

“Stop flirting and get in the car! Traffic is going to be abysmal!”

Seonghwa smacks the side of the Benz. Hongjoong gets the hint and scooches over to the other seat to allow for Seonghwa to slide into his seat.

Once inside, Seonghwa barely spares Hongjoong a glance and spots two mops of dark hair in the front.

“Hey, hyung,” Jongho greets from the passenger seat, while Mingi, who shouted for Seonghwa to get in the car, is driving the vehicle.

“Did you have to bring bodyguards to make sure I don’t strangle you during dinner?” Seonghwa asks but gives Jongho’s head an affectionate pat.

“As if Yunho, Yeosang, and San aren’t meeting us there,” Mingi points out from the driver’s seat. “We need all hands on deck to keep this wild bunny from biting.”

“Ugh,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I’ll have to have Yeosang add you to my list after Sannie.”

“What list?”

Seonghwa locks eyes with Mingi in the rearview mirror and smirks. “I recently purchased a paddle: so a spanking list. And a double ended dildo, but Yunho-yah gets first dibs on that with San. Would you prefer that list instead?”

Mingi’s cheeks pink and Jongho asks curiously, “how many inches?” as Hongjoong yelps, “you bought a what?!”

The drive to the Kim-Do residence on the east side is relatively quiet. Seonghwa stares out the window the entire time and engages with Mingi and Jongho in small talk to ask about how the younger men are doing.

Mingi says that Wooyoung is following them with the truck containing the shipment, and that he’s (Mingi) been really excited to start motorcycle lessons soon so he can get his M2 license.

Jongho reveals to Seonghwa what he had already been told by his older brother, Yonghyun: In Your Fantasy’s revenue has been down, but not quite an all time low. The secretary complains about how their marketing team has been slacking and that the cost of liquor has gone up.

Seonghwa offers to send Jongho his marketing team’s sister company as he’s also heard good things about their work, and the younger man thanks the director profusely.

When Hongjoong also expresses his gratitude, Seonghwa shuts his husband down: “I’m helping Jongho-yah, not you.” Though he knows that helping Jongho means indirectly helping Hongjoong, he doesn’t have to admit that or accept his appreciation.

When they pull up to the front of the residence, Seonghwa and Hongjoong step out first while Mingi and Jongho pull out of the long U of the driveway to park near the quadruple door garage to wait for Wooyoung and his truck and Yunho, Yeosang, and San.

The Kim-Do estate is massive, even bigger than Diamond Manor. Outside there’s an entire field that doubles as a soccer and football field, a basketball and tennis court, a glamorous, almost pool sized marble fountain of two mermaids kissing, and a quadruple door garage that could probably be mistaken for a detached house.

Seonghwa walks ahead of Hongjoong up the shallow steps leading up to the ginormous double doors of the front entrance. He gets about halfway when a hand catches his elbow and he turns around to find Hongjoong looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Both he and the shorter man look at where Hongjoong is holding his arm and then the brunette immediately lets go as if burned.

“Can I help you?” Seonghwa bites out, a little bit offended that Hongjoong looks scared to touch him, like he’s filthy. Seonghwa takes two-to-three showers a day, thank you very much!

“I just, uh,” Hongjoong runs a hand through his brown locks and they momentarily flip up before falling back over his eyes. “We should probably hold hands.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married?”

“Are we?” Seonghwa asks sarcastically and makes a show of dropping his gaze to his own left hand where his wedding band is and then to Hongjoong’s left hand where there seems to be rings on every finger but the fourth. “That’s news to me.”

“Hwa-yah…”

“Don’t ‘Hwa-yah’ me.” Seonghwa swiftly turns around and ascends the rest of the steps. He can hear Hongjoong’s hurried footsteps behind him and before he can raise a hand to knock, Hongjoong tugs him backwards by the arm again.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Hongjoong starts and Seonghwa cuts him off with a hysterical laugh.

“Mad at you? You think I’m mad at you?” The raven haired man straightens up so the two inches of height he has on Hongjoong is emphasized. “Mad left the room five or so years ago, Hongjoong. It was left in our shared loft when you decided everything else was more important than me.”

“That’s not true,” Hongjoong denies and Seonghwa doesn’t know how he can lie to him so easily, especially to his face.

Except Hongjoong isn’t being dodgy about it; he’s looking directly at Seonghwa, unaffected by their height difference. He has an air of determination and an earnest expression, and his grip on Seonghwa’s arm only tightens.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong then says and Seonghwa wants to scream in his face. “Seonghwa, if you just let me explain…”

Seonghwa can’t help the words that tumble out of his mouth, “explain what? That you don’t love me? That you never wanted this marriage? That you want to fuck everyone but me? For your information, I have great stamina and a quick refractory period with a high pain tolerance, so I could go all night and I’d let you pull my hair as hard as you want.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows disappear into his bangs and his mouth hangs open in shock at the turn in conversation. The tips of his ears are a deep red and the blush carries down his neck, where Seonghwa’s eyes are drawn to the protruding vein of his jugular.

Hongjoong isn’t known to wear necklaces, but Seonghwa has noticed he's been wearing a silver chain around his neck that dips down into the brunette’s shirt to hide most of the jewellery piece. Seonghwa would love to graze his teeth over it, yank it, and then taste Hongjoong’s skin.

Instead of addressing Seonghwa’s last statement, Hongjoong utters a repeat of what Seonghwa said previously, “who told you I don’t love you? Who told you that I don’t want this marriage? Who told you that I want to have sex with everyone but you?”

Seonghwa opens his mouth to yell again, but his mind draws a blank. He usually has a quick response to these questions, but he didn’t expect Hongjoong to acknowledge them. He reiterates what he told Yunho, “Mingi said you have many lovers.”

Hongjoong’s brows knit together and Seonghwa hates that he looks confused, “when did he say that?”

“Who cares?” Seonghwa seethes and pulls his faux leather shawl taut around himself when a cool, autumn breeze passes over them. It’s chilly as the evening sets in, the sun has disappeared completely, and the pool sized fountain beside them doesn’t help the temperature. “It doesn’t matter ‘when’ if it’s true.”

Hongjoong releases his grip on Seonghwa’s arm to quickly shrug off his own jacket. Seonghwa is about to ask what he’s doing when the brunette adjusts his hold on the jacket and rocks forward on his tip toes to be able to drape it over Seonghwa’s shoulders.

Seonghwa stares at his husband, dumbfounded, as Hongjoong attempts to clasp the top button to secure the jacket around Seonghwa.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa finally asks through chattering teeth.

“You’re cold,” Hongjoong answers like he’s been doing this for years. In his defence, he used to do this all the time. When they were teenagers, the brunette would not only offer Seonghwa his sweater or jacket during the colder seasons, but he would also bring the slightly older man heat packs for his hands.

Seonghwa vaguely feels like he’s been transported into his teenaged self and he and Hongjoong are preparing to go apple picking, something they would do all the time in high school, instead of meeting with one of the most powerful joint families in Seoul as an unhappily married couple.

After the sweet gesture, an awkward silence settles around them. Hongjoong’s hands are still gripping the studded lapels of his own jacket around Seonghwa and the two are nearly chest to chest if not for Hongjoong’s hands still fiddling with the buttons.

Seonghwa knows he’s blushing like a schoolgirl and is about to start yelling at his husband again to get this conversation back on track (re: Hongjoong doesn’t love him, so why is he doing this?), when three unexpected and terrible things happen at once.

One: The front doors of the Kim-Do mansion swing inwards and it’s relatively silent despite it being a set of grand, heavy doors. The only reason Seonghwa knows the doors opened is the soft ‘click’ of the handles being pulled down from the other side and…

Two: Hongjoong clutches the lapels of his jacket and simultaneously pulls Seonghwa into him and swings the taller man around to dip him; one of his arms winds around Seonghwa’s waist to anchor him so that…

Three: Hongjoong presses his lips to Seonghwa’s. The raven haired man’s hands are fisted in the front of Hongjoong’s dress shirt to keep himself from falling backwards considering Seonghwa is bent at the waist in this sudden dance dip.

Hongjoong’s lips are warm and soft, and Seonghwa can feel the brunette’s heartbeat where his hand is gripping the front of his husband’s shirt.

It’s such a romantic pose, straight out of a scripted, cheesy film, especially in front of a fountain with marble mermaids kissing.

“How lovely,” a deep, lilting voice coos from the open door and Hongjoong hoists a dazed Seonghwa back upright so they can look at the source. “We heard voices outside, but suddenly they stopped. We thought to check.”

The brunette’s arm remains wrapped around Seonghwa’s waist and Hongjoong plasters himself to the taller man’s side as they both wave abashedly to the two men standing at the entrance.

“Good evening, Jongin-ssi, Kyungsoo-ssi,” Hongjoong greets politely.

“Hongjoong-ah, no need to be so formal, please call us both ‘hyung’!” Jongin says enthusiastically. “And come in, it’s cold!”

Seonghwa is still slightly dazed from the surprise kiss so he lets Hongjoong usher him into the mansion, the brunette’s jacket still around his shoulders.

The Kim-Do mansion is just as marvelous on the inside as it is the outside: tall, pale, marble columns hold up the ceiling and many artworks and photographs line the walls in a sporadic yet tasteful pattern. The biggest chandelier Seonghwa has ever seen in his life hangs in the center of the foyer and holds so many crystals in its tiered structure that it appears to float in the air.

“How was the drive?” Kyungsoo inquires as Jongin closes the doors behind the two men.

Do Kyungsoo is about the same height as Hongjoong, with cropped black hair and full lips, and has the more reserved personality of the couple. Kim Jongin is taller than Seonghwa, with slicked back ash blonde locks and beautifully tanned skin, and is more shy yet playful. The two, like Seonghwa and Hongjoong, are the second-born children of prominent families who were wed to form a union while their older siblings took over the main operations.

“Traffic was awful, but other than that, not too bad,” Hongjoong comments and runs a hand through the side of his hair, briefly pushing the strands away from his ears.

“What pretty earrings, Hongjoong-ah,” Kyungsoo compliments and gestures to the jewellery adorning the brunette’s lobes. “I love flowers.”

Seonghwa’s gaze snaps to his husband’s ears. When he went to In Your Fantasy earlier, Hongjoong wasn’t wearing any of his earrings.

His ears are still void of those usual silver or black earrings lining his upper lobe and cartilage. But right there, resting delicately on the bottom of Hongjoong’s earlobe, is a bright orange and yellow ombre marigold earring. 

The one Seonghwa gave to him for his fifteenth birthday.

It seems to shine in the chandelier’s light and is a stark contrast to his brown hair and dark coloured outfit.

Seonghwa feels a weird tightness in his chest. Like someone decided to blow up a latex balloon within his ribcage and overestimated its size, so now the balloon is nestled in between his lungs and constricts his breathing. His heartbeat picks up, threatening to burst this balloon, and Seonghwa is afraid of what he might say once it pops.

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift from my husband… Many eons ago, when we were fifteen,” Hongjoong jokes and his hand, still around Seonghwa, pinches the taller man’s waist affectionately.

Both Jongin and Kyungsoo chuckle, with Jongin swatting at Hongjoong. “Shush, what does that say about us then? We have a couple of years on you.”

Seonghwa can only keep a small smile on his face.

“Shall we show you to your room?” Jongin offers and Seonghwa looks to Hongjoong in a panic.

Room? Weren’t they only supposed to make niceties over dinner and leave the shipment?

Is he supposed to spend a night with Hongjoong? Share a room?

… Share a bed?!

The balloon only grows bigger.

“That would be amazing, thank you, hyung!” Hongjoong looks at ease when he talks and Seonghwa doesn’t know how he does it because internally, Seonghwa is freaking out. The theatre director won’t admit that having his husband’s hand on his lower back is quite comforting. “Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho—”

Kyungsoo smiles knowingly, “yes, your father-in-law mentioned that you’d be bringing the boys! We have many guest rooms, so we’ve already asked our staff to prepare six additional rooms. Mr. Park also mentioned that Yunho, Yeosang, and San were coming?”

The last part of his question is directed at Seonghwa and then three pairs of eyes are on him.

“Oh,” Seonghwa breathes, trying to steady his voice with that damn air balloon lodged in his chest.

“They must be stuck in that awful traffic, but they’ll be here soon.” Hongjoong answers for him and Seonghwa is both annoyed and relieved. “If I may, Kyungsoo hyung, Jongin hyung. Seonghwa has a headache from the drive, would it be alright if we had a moment before we reconvene?”

“Of course,” Jongin gestures for the couple to follow him up their glorious staircase lined with an expensive, hand-knotted carpet.

“I’ll check in on the protein,” Kyungsoo says from the bottom of the staircase. “Dinner should be served in the next hour!”

“Kyungsoo hyung cooked dinner?” Hongjoong makes casual conversation as they follow Jongin down the corridor on the second floor.

“Yes, my little restaurateur,” Jongin chuckles. “He’s planning a new menu for his Gangnam location, so he wanted to give you two an exclusive taste before it debuts.”

“We’re very excited!”

“That’s great, because he cooked a lot of food,” Jongin stops in front of a door and pushes the handle down. “Ah, you’ll be here.”

When they enter the room, it’s lavish and smells heavenly. There are two extravagant closets on opposing sides, two bureaus, a large desk with a flatscreen TV mounted to the wall above, and two doors that lead into an en suite bathroom. The wall on the other side of the door is made up entirely of panelled windows, from the floor to the ceiling, with two sofas and a stylish armchair situated nearby to allow for plenty of natural light.

The issue?

The single king sized bed with a canopy of sheer, chiffon curtains around. 

It’s weirdly erotic.

Seonghwa stares at the bed and can already imagine him and Hongjoong in the center of it with the curtains surrounding them. He’d be face down in the silk sheets, crying for Hongjoong to go faster—

“Thank you, hyung,” Seonghwa speaks for the first time since stepping foot in the Kim-Do estate. “Do you mind if I wash up before dinner? The steam will ease my headache.”

“Take your time, Seonghwa-yah,” Jongin says. “We had Wonbin restock all the toiletries for you, and there are robes and towels on the counter. There should be some painkillers in the bathroom cabinet as well.”

“You’re too kind to us, hyung.”

“I’ll meet you guys in the dining room in an hour or so.”

And with that, Jongin closes the door behind him, leaving Seonghwa and Hongjoong alone.

Before Hongjoong can utter a sound, Seonghwa takes out his phone and dials.

“Seonghwa-yah, I swear, if you complain—”

“Are you—” Seonghwa starts to shout but then pauses. He scurries over to one of the sofas to be as far away from the door as possible and then hisses into the receiver, “are you fucking crazy? I came here as a favour to you and I have to find out from dance God himself, Kim Jongin, that we’re staying for the night? Are you going to drive out here to come and collect Hongjoong’s body?”

“My body?” Hongjoong is taken aback. “Are you carrying a weapon?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and doesn’t hesitate in yanking the hem of his pants down to reveal the waistband of his designer, black lace underwear. He tugs the one side of his pants down further to his mid thigh and gives Hongjoong a look of ‘see?’.

Hongjoong stares, bug-eyed, at Seonghwa’s pelvis.

After a moment of nothing said, Seonghwa snaps his fingers in front of his husband’s open mouthed, stupefied stare.

Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa sheepishly, his cheeks pink. His eyes give him away when they flit to the lace of Seonghwa’s underwear again before settling on the taller man’s face. “W-What am I looking at?”

Seonghwa points directly to the sheathed kris dagger secured to his upper thigh by a velvet strap.

Hongjoong now stares at the velvet strap digging into the meat of Seonghwa’s thigh.

“Oh my God, the answer is yes! Yes, I am carrying a weapon! You of all people should know to never show up to a socialite dinner or negotiation unarmed,” Seonghwa exclaims in irritation and pulls his pants back up to his waist. “There’s also a pocket knife in my boot and a pistol strapped to my calf. Dad, I—”

There’s a dial tone, signalling Sungyong’s departure.

Seonghwa’s jaw drops in bafflement. “He hung up on me!”

“You have been yelling at him a lot lately…”

Seonghwa feels a real headache coming. The raven haired man instinctively reaches down his pants and his fingers enclose around the handle of the kris dagger. “What the fuck did you just say—”

Just as Seonghwa wrenches the dragger out of its hiding spot on his thigh, the bedroom door bursts open and Yunho points his gun at the director. “Drop the sword!”

“What the fuck?” Hongjoong yelps and darts in front of Seonghwa to shield his husband from the armed man. When he realizes that it’s Yunho, Yeosang, and San at the door, with Yunho aiming a pistol at them, Hongjoong shuffles around Seonghwa to use him as the shield. “What the fuck, Seonghwa?! Are you out of your mind?”

“I wasn’t actually going to kill you,” Seonghwa says and twirls the dagger in between his fingers like a pen. The wavy blade expertly weaves in between his digits as he gives his friends and employees an impassive look. “I wasn’t going to kill him!”

“That’s not what Mr. Park said,” San pouts and watches Seonghwa play with the kris dagger disapprovingly. “Hyung, drop the weapon.”

Seonghwa ceases the twirling and pinches the tip of the blade in between his fingers. “I’ll drop it on one condition.”

Yeosang wordlessly reaches into the inside of his suit jacket and pulls out a rolled up, glossy paper. The secretary unfurls it and flaps it once, like airing out a bedsheet, before turning to the wall behind him to tack the full body length poster to the surface.

It’s a photo of Hongjoong in a square neck, ink black top with his hair pushed back, though a few strands fall over his forehead. Seonghwa has never seen this photo before, and Hongjoong is so incredibly handsome that Seonghwa hesitates in throwing his dagger at it.

Yunho lowers his own pistol and shoves it into the holster around his waist and under his coat.

“Uh, what—” Hongjoong’s voice from behind him brings Seonghwa back from his admiration and reminds him of the club owner’s presence.

Once Yeosang steps back and away from photo-Hongjoong, Seonghwa whips the kris dagger at it and the weapon lands precisely in photo-Hongjoong’s right earlobe, where his dangly earring is.

“Whew, I feel much better,” Seonghwa states and beams at Yeosang, “thank you, Sangie. I think Jongin hyung mentioned that you have rooms, too. Would you mind asking him? Oh, and I’ll have to pay for the hole in the wall…”

“Only if you promise you’re not carrying anything else,” San points an accusatory finger at the director.

Seonghwa smirks, “I’m not carrying anything else that’s as sharp—”

“Don’t tell me you brought a dildo,” Yeosang groans.

“You use dildos as a weapon?” Hongjoong cries out in disbelief.

Yunho giggles, remembering something. “You should’ve seen the guy who was at the mercy of his glass, mega cock dildo—”

“There’s a lot to unpack here,” Hongjoong steps out from behind his husband, a hand massaging his temple as if he’s the one with the headache now. He motions to the poster of himself with Seonghwa’s dagger now sticking out of it. “What the fuck, by the way.”

“You should see Diamond Manor,” San says unhelpfully. “There’s more where that came from.”

“Alright, everybody shoo,” Seonghwa struts up to the poster of Hongjoong and dislodges his dagger. He pulls down his pants to restrap the kris dagger back to his thigh and crumples up the poster to give to Yunho. “I want to shower.”

Yunho, Yeosang, and San exit as swiftly as they entered.

Seonghwa doesn’t bother with checking the closet and instead locks himself in the bathroom before he’s forced to talk to Hongjoong again.

⚜

Kyungsoo prepared an entire feast for them: There are four proteins, including baked chicken, roasted pig, steamed fish, and pan seared duck. The meats are accompanied by plentiful amounts of sides, including garlic mashed potatoes, oven baked vegetables, a platter of fresh fruits, and an assortment of homemade pickled banchan.

It’s all spread out in the center on a rotating turntable on the Kim-Dos’ antique circular table.

“I love your dining table,” Hongjoong compliments and touches the finish on the outer ring of the wooden table. “I feel as though a round table is not as common as a rectangular one.”

“Thank you, Hongjoong-ah,” Jongin says.“We do have a rectangular table in our other dining room when we have more guests over, but we use this one for more intimate gatherings. Like this one.”

“Please, sit,” Kyungsoo gestures for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to sit down first. When the two younger men do so, the restaurateur and dancer both take their seats after.

“This all looks so delicious,” Seonghwa comments and stares at each dish in awe. “Your plating is amazing, Kyungsoo hyung.”

Kyungsoo beams at him. “I hope that the taste is as good as the presentation… If you don’t like something, please don’t hesitate to let me know! I would like to perfect it before I teach my team in Gangnam.”

Dinner goes by smoothly. They dig into the food, accompanied with aged wine from the cellar, and have pleasant chatter.

Jongin talks about his dance troop, currently signed to tour with a big name artist the dancer cannot disclose due to the non-disclosure agreement. Kyungsoo mentions that because his chain of restaurants is doing so well, he’s thinking about opening up a winery.

Hongjoong talks about In Your Fantasy and how he’s struggling with keeping sales up - Jongin offers to consult Hongjoong with possibly contracting some of his dancers to work for the club. Seonghwa gushes about Diamond Manor and its performances, and how he’s had the pleasure of working with many talented creators - Seonghwa asks if Kyungsoo would be willing to cater one of the big events he hosts during the holidays.

Then, as dessert is served, the topic of their relationship comes up and Jongin and Kyungsoo are diving into their love story first.

“We were childhood friends first,” Jongin starts and wraps an arm around the back of his husband’s chair. “Us, and you know my cousins Kim Minseok, Joonmyun, and Jongdae?”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong nod. “Aren’t Minseok and Jongdae in business together now?”

“Yes! I’m surprised they haven’t killed each other,” Jongin laughs.

“That’s probably because Baekhyun has them both on a tight leash,” Kyungsoo chortles into his wine glass.

“I met Kyungsoo through Jongdae, Jongdae’s wife Minah, Baekhyun, Baekhyun’s wife Taeyeon, and Chanyeol when we were… What, five or six-years-old? And they wouldn’t let me play with them because I was younger.”

“I still played with you,” Kyungsoo taps his husband’s arm affectionately and rolls his eyes, “and they wouldn’t play with you because you hogged all the toys and then cried when they tried to ask you to share.”

“Anyways,” Jongin gives his husband a playful glare. “I, uh, had other arrangements…” The dancer trails off but quickly continues, “but they fell through and another proposal was drafted for me to wed Kyungsoo hyung.”

It might be the wine, though Seonghwa hasn’t had much of it, when the question tumbles out of his mouth without him giving it a second thought, “were you in love?”

All three heads turn to him.

Seonghwa swirls the wine around in his glass and chuckles, “sorry, that was such a forward question…”

“No, it’s alright,” Kyungsoo says with a warm smile. “It’s a natural question for an arranged marriage.”

Jongin moves his arm from the back of Kyungsoo’s chair to the shorter man’s shoulders and pulls his husband into him. “Well, I’ve always…” The dancer chuckles, “liked him. As far as teenage crushes can go. And then along the way, I fell in love, so the marriage was a win-win for me.”

Kyungsoo reaches up and uses his hands to pinch both of Jongin’s cheeks, “how sweet are you? Good thing you grew out of your crybaby phase or maybe those feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. But yes, I love my little dancer too.”

“Hyung!” Jongin blushes and slaps the older man’s hands away. The couple looks expectantly across the table at Seonghwa and Hongjoong. “So what about you two? What’s your epic love story?”

Seonghwa, glass raised to his lips, chokes on his wine.

“Oh, you know, we also grew up together as our fathers were very close,” Hongjoong says as Seonghwa composes himself. “Childhood best friends and have been together ever since. Our fathers proposed the union to us on my twenty-first birthday.”

“You mentioned Seonghwa gave you those earrings,” Kyungsoo says. “Seonghwa-yah, did Hongjoong give you anything for your fifteenth birthday?”

Seonghwa’s neck suddenly feels very bare, where a star pendant used to always hang, up until he left it in their shared loft years ago. “Y-Yes. A necklace.”

“A marigold as well?”

He doesn’t want to talk about this, but he doesn’t want to come off as rude. “No… A star.”

Hongjoong is the one to save him and continues the conversation, “it was chrome silver. A long chain, with his birthstone in the center of the star: a marquise cut diamond.”

“That sounds beautiful, are you wearing it?” Jongin asks Seonghwa curiously.

Hongjoong, again, is the one to answer, “I can show you another time.” Seonghwa’s head snaps to his husband, surprised. What does Hongjoong mean by that? The brunette beams at Kyungsoo, “hyung, I apologize if this comes off as greedy… But is there more dessert?”

“Not at all, Hongjoong-ah!” Kyungsoo happily grabs Hongjoong’s empty plate and heads to the kitchen to serve him more cake.

When dessert wraps up, Kyungsoo and Jongin lead Seonghwa and Hongjoong to their loading dock around the back of the estate where Wooyoung dropped off the shipment.

“We just want to check them out and get your opinion on it,” Jongin explains politely. “We’re supposed to split the shipment between our families, so we’d love to know what you think is best.”

The two older men pry the first crate open and marvel at the arrangement of blades: there are Chinese swords of varying sizes and designs that are sheathed in leather or wooden scabbards.

Jongin and Kyungsoo look at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and then back to the Chinese swords. “Thoughts?”

Hongjoong hums to feign deep thinking, though there’s tension in his forehead as Seonghwa knows he has no idea about Chinese swords.

“Jian is the word the Chinese use for a double edged blade. The average length and weight of the weapon will depend on the style or martial art you’re looking to practice,” Seonghwa says to break the silence and boldly reaches into the crate to take out a straight sword that’s about a foot and a half long. “May I?” The raven haired man’s eyes flit to the weapon in his hands, as if asking for permission.

“Please,” Kyungsoo says as he and Jongin look at the director eagerly.

Seonghwa unsheathes the jian and the blade glints magnificently in the dim lighting of the dock. Upon the reveal of it, Kyungsoo and Jongin audibly gasp at the forged design: there are bronze triangular etchings all the way down the length of steel that culminates in a pointed tip.

The director takes a step back from the crate and effortlessly spins the sword by its handle in his palm. He shows off a few more circles, to which Kyungsoo and Jongin clap enthusiastically, before he walks back up to the crate and rests the jian down but doesn’t re-sheath it.

Instead, Seonghwa reaches back into the crate to pull out a shorter sword, only about nine inches, and removes the casing to reveal a weapon closer to a dagger than a sword: the blade curves slightly at the bottom and its edge appears sharper than the top. “The dao is a single edged sword, typically used for slicing and chopping, and could also be referred to as a ‘broadsword’ or ‘sabre’ when bigger in length.”

Similar to the way he handled the kris dagger earlier, Seonghwa twirls the dao between his fingers and then fancily maneuvers it over the back of his palm before flipping it upwards. It shines in the air and makes a worbling noise on the way down, where Seonghwa catches the thin blade in between his thumb and third finger. He then extends the handle out to Kyungsoo and Jongin, who stare at the director with open mouths.

“You’re amazing, Seonghwa-yah!” Jongin gushes and grips the handle of the dao. “As expected from the son of Park Sungyong, weapons expert.”

“You’re too kind, hyung,” Seonghwa brushes off the compliment and continues, “I believe the Kims would prefer the jians, given your family’s appreciation for the performing arts. And the Dos would take a liking to the daos, given your family’s passions for the culinary arts.”

Kyungsoo nods in agreement, “you’re right! What about the other crates?”

“Other blades, firearms, and ancient weapons of Fuzhou,” Seonghwa moves to remove the topmost crate to be able to access the ones underneath, but is interrupted by the family butler clearing his throat at the door of the dock.

“Forgive my sudden presence, Master Jongin, Master Kyungsoo, Mr. Kim and Mr. Park,” the butler bows to them before continuing. “There are guests waiting in the lobby…”

Jongin and Kyungsoo look at each other. “We’re not expecting anyone else, Mr. Chu.”

“I am aware… They appear to be employees of your cousin, Master Jongin,” the butler says and he looks a bit panicked yet apologetic. “They insisted.”

“Joonmyun? Minseok? Nevermind, we’ll be right there,” Jongin says and the butler bows again before taking his leave.

The couple turns to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Kyungsoo is frowning while Jongin gives them a polite smile, “sorry about this, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Of course. We’ll head to our room, don’t worry about us,” Hongjoong says and steps towards Seonghwa to wrap an arm around his waist.

Seonghwa nearly whacks him in the face because Hongjoong has never touched him this much in their six year marriage. But he clasps his hands together to put on a front for the Kim-Dos.

Jongin gestures for one of his employees on the docks to wrap up the crates. Seonghwa offers help to the employee, and carefully re-wraps the blades before securing the lid on the crate. The employee gets the help of two others to slide a dolly under the crates and wheel them out of the loading dock and into the main mansion.

Jongin and Kyungsoo watch as their employees take the shipment out and then, after another apologetic wave to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, the couple follows their butler towards the main entrance foyer.

Seonghwa waits fifteen seconds before he walks out the exit as well without sparing Hongjoong another word or glance.

“Wait, Hwa—”

“No, shut up,” Seonghwa turns around just as Hongjoong reaches out to grab his wrist, and so the brunette ends up caressing his hip. “What are you doing?”

Hongjoong doesn’t move his hand, “I wanted to talk to you. And since we’re stuck together for the night, I thought now would be appropriate.”

“Stuck together?” Seonghwa sneers, “oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’ve been stuck with me for six fucking years and now you have to share a bed with me, which we didn’t even do on our wedding night!”

“Hwa…”

“Don’t Hwa me.”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says calmly.

“Don’t Seonghwa me.”

Hongjoong gives him a look of incredulity and his nostrils flare, signalling he’s getting angry. It’s been a telltale sign since they were teenagers, and that along with the bulging neck vein that appears has always had Seonghwa short of breath. “That’s your name, what else am I supposed to call you?”

“Don’t call me at all,” Seonghwa says childishly and turns on his heel.

Before he can make it one step, Hongjoong is whirling him around by the hips and slamming him against the wall, one hand pinning Seonghwa’s right hand to the wall and the other gripping his hipbone, fingers now digging painfully into his pelvis.

Seonghwa’s cheeks darken and a jolt of lust shoots down his spine. 

“Will you just fucking listen?” Hongjoong spits and he looks up at Seonghwa with furrowed eyebrows. Because of their slight height difference, the way Hongjoong’s head is angled a little bit down yet his gaze is fixed up on the taller man makes him look slightly crazed.

It goes straight to Seonghwa’s cock and God, he wants Hongjoong to thrust his dick down the director’s throat and have Hongjoong’s tongue up his ass while he grips his hips like he’s doing now.

Seonghwa swallows at the thought and alarm bells ring in his head to warn him off of doing something he shouldn’t.

Hongjoong’s eyes trace the long line of Seonghwa’s neck and he unconsciously licks his lips.

Seonghwa follows the tip of Hongjoong’s tongue tracing his upper lip. He glances at the pretty marigold earring in Hongjoong’s earlobe and the raven haired man whispers, “and if I don’t listen?” And then Seonghwa brings his non-pinned hand up to the back of Hongjoong’s head to grab a fistful of brown locks to smash their mouths together.

The alarms in his head get louder. Seonghwa ignores it.

Seonghwa’s teeth accidentally nip Hongjoong’s mouth hard enough to draw blood, and their noses bump at an awkward angle. He doesn’t expect the shorter man to nip his lower lip back, and so when their tongues meet aggressively, Seonghwa tastes blood in the mixture.

It’s sloppy, wet, and overzealous; Hongjoong keeps his left hand pinning Seonghwa’s right as they make out and when Seonghwa moves to yank on his hair to try to dominate the kiss, Hongjoong growls and splays a hand over the taller man’s stomach to keep him against the wall.

“What—” Hongjoong mumbles when they pull apart to breathe, but Seonghwa dives back in and licks at his annoyingly straight teeth. “The—” Hongjoong tries again and Seonghwa suckles on his bottom lip as his hand slides from Hongjoong’s hair to the base of his neck. Around his neck, Seonghwa feels the chain of the necklace that he had noticed Hongjoong wearing. “Fuck—” Hongjoong tries again, but Seonghwa connects their mouths and this time succeeds in pushing Hongjoong backwards so that he can crowd the club owner up against the opposite wall.

Beep beep beep.

“I bet you’re hung, aren’t you,” Seonghwa snarls into Hongjoong’s mouth and slots one of his legs in between the brunette’s legs. He hisses when he feels Hongjoong’s arousal against his upper thigh, “fuck you.”

“Hwa,” Hongjoong moans when Seonghwa unceremoniously shoves a hand down the front of Hongjoong’s pants to cup his groin.

It’s a horrible angle. Hongjoong’s pants are still buttoned and his belt is still fastened so it’s a tight squeeze. But Seonghwa still feels it; hard, hot, and heavy in his palm, and his mouth salivates to taste the tip on the flat of his tongue. It’s something he’s been dreaming of since they were teenagers.

Beep beep beep.

“Fuck, you’re fully hard from kissing?” Seonghwa goads.

“I’ve been half hard from watching you flip the Chinese knives,” Hongjoong sighs.

Before Seonghwa can even think about ripping the button off of the waistband of Hongjoong’s pants, two voices urgently whisper “pst!” to their left and down the hall.

They spring apart from each other like two teenagers caught sneaking around. Seonghwa stumbles back into the wall Hongjoong had him pinned against previously and Hongjoong’s hands fly to his crotch to cover the obvious bulge there from their make out session.

Wooyoung and Yunho give both men curious stares.

“We were just—” Hongjoong starts but then stops himself to look at Seonghwa.

Seonghwa regards his husband’s swollen lips, his mussed hair, and the tent in his pants. He’s so fucking delicious and Seonghwa did that to him.

“You know exactly what we were doing,” Seonghwa says coolly and brushes off the front of his shirt. He swishes his shawl in front of his own arousal, already calming down from being caught in an embarrassing situation. “What are you two doing?”

“Our jobs,” Wooyoung says playfully and Yunho walks up to the two older men.

“Have you seen the guests that arrived not too long ago?” Yunho cuts straight to the point, head bent to lower the volume of his voice. “We think they’re the Kim-Jang family from Daejeon. A man and two women, wearing three-piece suits as the Kim-Jangs are known for. Mingi spotted more in the van that pulled up, but only three entered the estate. There was a smaller car that followed them here as well.”

Beep beep beep.

“The Kim-Jangs?” Hongjoong shakes his head, “they haven’t been on the radar since the birth of Jongdae and Minah’s daughter.”

“Maybe they caught wind of this exchange?” Wooyoung suggests.

“The Kim-Jangs have been associated with popular auction houses for special art and rare artifacts, there’s no reason they would be interested in Chinese weapons,” Seonghwa says. The moment it leaves his mouth, the theatre director’s eyes snap to Hongjoong. “Did my father tell you what was in all eight of the crates?”

Beep beep beep.

Hongjoong opens his mouth to answer but Seonghwa cuts him off with an irritated cry, “what the fuck is that horrid beeping noise?”

He had thought they were imaginary warning bells in his head as a way for his subconscious to tell him kissing Hongjoong was a bad idea.

“Beeping—” Hongjoong’s eyes go round with recognition and then the club owner tackles Seonghwa to the ground while Wooyoung does the same to Yunho. 

The four men dive towards where Yunho and Wooyoung were standing moments before just as the wall Hongjoong was in front of, the wall separating the hallway from the loading dock, is blown open.

They weren’t too close to the blast zone, but close enough that Seonghwa’s ears are ringing and the air fills with smoke and a cloud of dust from the debris.

Seonghwa blinks the debris from his eyes and coughs up the dust he inhaled. He turns his head to see a large piece of wood and drywall that narrowly missed his head if Hongjoong hadn’t brought him to the ground.

“Hwa, get up!” Hongjoong screams and scrambles to his feet to yank his husband up as well. “Shit—”

A flood of men in black, three-piece suits with rifles and handguns pour out through the exit of the dock and blasted opening. 

Seonghwa thrusts his hand into his pants to take out the kris dagger and immediately throws it at the man who sees them first. It lodges into the arm holding his weapon and the man cries out in pain as his gun clatters to the floor.

Wooyoung and Yunho draw their weapons to shoot at the other men who have noticed them, disarming them as best they can without going for fatal head or chest shots. Seonghwa bends down to pull out the pistol strapped to his calf and the four men bolt down the hallway.

Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho continue to shoot behind them as they run down the hallway. They scurry into a different hallway, one that leads to a staircase, just as a spray of bullets misses them.

“Are you really not carrying a weapon? Any weapon at all?!” Seonghwa yells at Hongjoong as he, Wooyoung, and Yunho reload their guns and the three of them hurriedly ascend the stairs. They don’t know if this staircase leads to their rooms, but they can’t stay downstairs.

Hongjoong’s eyes are wide with distress and his hands are comically empty compared to the other three men as he defends himself. “How was I supposed to know there was an operation of ambush?! Why would I come to this dinner thinking it was going to turn hostile?!”

Seonghwa gives Wooyoung a hard glare, “your boss is so fucking hot and stupid.”

Wooyoung teases, “hot?”

Seonghwa doesn’t back down, “I said stupid, too.”

“Hey, you married him,” Wooyoung further teases.

“Not by choice,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shoves his reloaded gun into Hongjoong’s chest. “Tell me you know how to shoot a gun or I’ll have Yeosang add you to the spanking list.”

Hongjoong splutters, “o-of course I-I do!” Contrary to his words, the brunette fumbles to grip the weapon properly. His cheeks pink in embarrassment, “I know how to hold a gun, stop watching me!”

“So you’re not into exhibitionism or voyeurism then?” Seonghwa muses.

“You’re gonna have to reel it in,” Yunho sighs and slaps his own gun into the director’s hand. He takes out his second pistol from his belt. “Not the time to discuss your many undiscovered kinks.”

The four men jog down the upper corridor and thankfully encounter no armed men. They slow down to a hurried walk as they enter the main area of the upper floor where the corridors are now exposed to the lower floor: it’s lined with extravagant railings that lead to the single, glorious staircase they had followed Jongin up earlier.

Their footsteps are padded by the handmade rugs that run in the center of all of the corridors and Seonghwa tries to get a glimpse of the foyer to see if Jongin and Kyungsoo are still there.

The front entrance is still intact, no signs of forced entry or an explosion like at the loading dock, but there are broken vases and destroyed artwork scattered about the floor. There aren’t any signs of any bodies… Yet.

They almost run past the familiar door of their guest room but Hongjoong is the one to yank them all into the room, and he closes the door and locks it. The club owner and Wooyoung work together to lift one of the bureaus to barricade the door while Seonghwa and Yunho rush to the other side of the room to the windowed wall to gauge the drop.

“Where are Jongho and Mingi?” Hongjoong asks Wooyoung as they prop the bureau up against the door.

“When we noticed the unfamiliar cars pulling up in the driveway, Mingi drove around to the opposite side of the estate,” Wooyoung explains. “They passed by the car at the loading dock, but the men thought they were employees of the Kim-Dos. They’re fine, they texted me that they parked the car at the gate.”

“Same with Yeosang and San. The Kim-Jangs don’t know that we’re still here,” Yunho continues as he searches for a latch on the windows. “They might think that the Kim-Dos are alone and we dropped off the shipment and left.” Yunho finds a latch and tries to pop it up, but it’s stuck.

“This is too aggressive to just be thievery,” Seonghwa mumbles as he watches Yunho struggle to lift the window latch. It appears to be rusted to the windowsill, but Yunho uses both hands and props his foot up on the sill as leverage to tug. “They blew a fucking hole in the wall and stormed in with rifles. This is a personal attack.”

“Against his own cousin? There was no indication at dinner that Jongin is on bad terms with Jongdae,” Hongjoong says. “Whatever the reason is for this attack on the Kim-Dos, us being here will obliterate the Kim-Jangs’ reputation.”

“It would be the scandal of the syndicate century,” Wooyoung says and then booms in a bad announcer voice, “in recent mafia news: The Kim-Jangs have executed the second-born children of four major crime families in South Korea! Up next, what is Park Seonghwa’s freakiest kink?”

“Mafia news?” Hongjoong snorts as Seonghwa answers, “knife play.”

When Hongjoong whips his head at him, Seonghwa clarifies with a different sentence, “no one is dying or being executed tonight, Wooyoung.” 

A loud, combative knock sounds on the door.

“Who’s in there?” A male voice shouts from the other side, followed by more banging. “Open up and no one gets hurt!”

“What if I want you to hurt me?” Seonghwa shouts back in a flirty, seductive tone. Hongjoong gives him another bewildered look.

There’s silence on the other side as the man, like Hongjoong, clearly did not expect that response either. And in that moment of hesitation, Seonghwa flaps his hand to signal Yunho to move.

Yunho does so and Seonghwa gives him a nod. The younger man aims his handgun at the panel of the window and fires. The bullet pierces the glass pane, creating a small hole in the center with splintering cracks that stem from it, but it doesn’t break the glass completely to allow for an adult to pass through.

Seonghwa picks up the armchair next to the sofa, winds his shoulders back and over his head, and hurls the furniture at the bullet hole in the glass pane.

The entire panel, from the floor to the ceiling, shatters as the armchair falls to the lower level outside and smashes into the concrete below.

The banging resumes at the sound of the glass breaking.

“OPEN UP OR WE START SHOOTING THE DOOR!”

Wooyoung rips the canopy curtains from the bed and bunches half of it up to lay over the broken glass on the ledge so they don’t get cut by it on their descent. Yunho takes the other half of the curtains, ties one end to the headboard of the king bed, and tosses the end of the curtain over.

It doesn’t quite reach the ground floor, but enough that they can jump the rest of the way safely.

“You two first,” Yunho urges Hongjoong and Seonghwa to the ledge and positions his gun at the door as the wood starts to splinter with the forceful banging. “Hurry.”

Seonghwa pushes Hongjoong in front of him and glares at the club owner when Hongjoong tries to make him go first, “my dear husband, it’s awfully inconvenient of you to be considerate right now.”

Hongjoong doesn’t need to be told twice and grips the chiffon curtain in his hands. He crouches down and jumps from the ledge. Seonghwa takes the curtain after and jumps as well, followed by Wooyoung and lastly Yunho, who jumps just as the rifles open fire on the door.

They all have to tuck and roll on the ground from the drop and immediately take off running around the side of the estate.

When they’ve traversed across the whole width of the back of the mansion to where the loading dock is outside, Seonghwa pulls them into a concealed corner where a garden of hedges blocks them from being seen. They don’t have much time as the people who were banging on the door likely alerted their companions that there are unknown people on the ground floor.

A Kim-Do employee, a small woman wearing a bucket hat and holding gardening shears, cowers behind the hedges and Seonghwa holds his gun up to show her they mean no harm.

Yunho whispers for her to run down the driveway to the gate, where he assures her she’ll be safe.

Once the woman takes off running down the long driveway, the four men reconvene.

“So Mingi, Jongho, Yeosang, and San are down the driveway at the gate, and the shipment is somewhere inside,” Seonghwa recites quickly. “We can’t leave without the shipment. If it’s taken away from the Kim-Dos, my father will definitely marry me off to the Yu family.”

“But you’re already married to me,” Hongjoong bites out.

Seonghwa scoffs in agreement, “I know, you tell Dad that.” 

The two look at each in surprise and Wooyoung looks between them in excitement, “is this a vow renewal? I knew you two loved each other! And that kiss earlier? I could be both of your best mans—”

Yunho slaps Wooyoung’s arm to get them to focus, “Young-ah, we’re kind of in an urgent situation here. What’s the plan? Do we take the shipment and leave? I only have one magazine left.”

“Same,” Wooyoung says and holds up his gun for emphasis. “My truck is still in the garage. I have extra ammo in there, and I could back it out to take the shipment?”

“We don’t know where the Kim-Do employees brought the crates, they’re no longer on the loading dock,” Seonghwa ponders, remembering how the three employees rolled them out on dollies, and then his expression turns grim. “We need to check in on Jongin and Kyungsoo hyung. We can’t leave them.”

“Yes,” Hongjoong agrees, “let’s split up. Yunho-yah, Wooyoung-ah, call Mingi, Jongho, San, and Yeosang to come here. Tell them to cut through the field so they’re not spotted on the main driveway. Warn them about the possible threats who will be down and snooping around in a few minutes. Then go through the mansion to find the crates.”

Yunho nods, already with his phone out as he texts San and Yeosang. Wooyoung does the same for Mingi and Jongho.

“Seonghwa and I will try to find Jongin and Kyungsoo hyung, as well as check up on as many Kim-Do employees as we can,” Hongjoong finishes and Seonghwa doesn’t protest as he knows Hongjoong’s reasoning for them to be the ones paired together: it would be much more beneficial to their familial bonds if Hongjoong and Seonghwa were to aid Jongin and Kyungsoo, especially since this was a friendly dinner to unite them.

“You’re low on ammo,” Yunho points out once he’s finished texting.

“We can find some inside, there were a lot of incapacitated men and I’m sure Jongin and Kyungsoo have their own stash,” Seonghwa answers and peers around the corner of the wall they’re hiding behind to scout anyone roaming around. “Have Yeosang contact my father about this.”

The four men wish each other luck and when Seonghwa signals that the coast is clear, they sneak away in different directions: Yunho and Wooyoung head towards the garage where Wooyoung’s truck is to wait for the rest of the guys and Seonghwa and Hongjoong head towards the loading dock.

There’s a giant hole where the loading dock sliding door used to be, and the hole extends to another hole in the wall of the hallway they were in earlier. Seonghwa scans the surroundings of the loading dock and gestures for Hongjoong to follow him.

“There are some firearms here,” Hongjoong whispers and points to the display in the far corner of the loading dock. The two shuffle over.

“Is it locked?”

“Yes.”

“Hold on.”

Seonghwa slowly sticks his head out in the hole of the hallway wall and sighs in relief when he sees that it’s void of the men in three-piece suits. At the last second, he does spot a Kim-Jang woman with a rifle in hand roaming in the adjacent hallway, so Seonghwa slides back into the loading dock and shuffles over to Hongjoong.

“Don’t shoot the glass, there’s someone nearby.” Seonghwa places a hand on the barrel of Hongjoong’s gun aimed at the display to lower it.

The theatre director bends down to take the pocket knife out of his right boot and flips it open. He presses the tip of the blade to tap the glass, but it appears to be thick and reinforced.

Seonghwa inspects the lock on the display instead; it’s a keypad instead of a padlock, and he knows he doesn’t have time to thoroughly study the various smudges all over it. The raven haired man runs his fingertips along the edges of the keypad where it protrudes from the display until he finds a little indent where he can stick his pocketknife in.

Seonghwa jams the tip of the knife into the indent and pries the keypad off to reveal the wiring mechanism inside.

“So,” Hongjoong whispers as Seonghwa works. “Can we talk about ‘us’?”

“Kim Hongjoong, as always, you have terrible timing,” Seonghwa keeps his gaze on the keypad in front of him. He prays to some otherworldly entity that if he rips out all the wiring, no blaring alarms will sound.

“What better time than a time where we’re risking our lives? We could die tonight, Seonghwa, and your last words to me would be that I have terrible timing.”

Seonghwa can’t help the giggle that escapes his lips. He hates that Hongjoong can always make him involuntarily laugh. The director hums to clear his throat and repeats what he said to Wooyoung, “no one’s dying tonight.” He grips the wiring in his hand to yank the entire thing out and luckily, no alarms go off. “Fine. I’ll start: I hate you. Your turn.”

The lighting in the display cuts out and Hongjoong is able to open the glass display with the keypad now disabled. He frowns as he takes out two pistols and hands one to Seonghwa. “Okay, those are worse last words than the timing thing. But, fair. I’ll start with an apology: Seonghwa-yah, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for neglecting you and making you feel like I didn’t want this marriage.”

Seonghwa takes the pistol from his husband and pops out the magazine to check if it’s loaded. When he approves it, he tucks the weapon into his Chanel belt. “It’s gonna take a lot more than an apology to make up for the past six years, Hongjoong-ah.”

“I know, but we can start with explanations, right?” Hongjoong sighs and checks his pistol as well before mirroring Seonghwa and tucking it into his belt before grabbing another one to inspect. “Look. When our fathers presented the marriage to me, I was shell-shocked. Not because I didn’t want to marry you, but because I didn’t know how you’d react. Since our love lives were the only things we didn’t really talk about, I wasn’t sure if you…” 

Seonghwa waits for Hongjoong to finish. When he doesn’t, the raven haired man prompts him, “if I what?”

“If you had a boyfriend or something,” Hongjoong says sheepishly.

“Why would I have a boyfriend,” Seonghwa says; it comes out more like a statement than a question. He’s always had feelings for Hongjoong, so the thought of another man is plain ridiculous to him.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Hongjoong says honestly. “I overheard you talking to Soyeon and Minho about your ideal type.”

“My ideal type?” Seonghwa tries to think about that conversation, some six to eight years ago, and comes up with nothing… Because it was six or maybe eight years ago. “What are you talking about?”

“The month before my twenty-first birthday. You said something about tall men… Broad, sturdy, attractive…”

Something clicks in Seonghwa’s brain. He thinks about all those men that Hongjoong sent to Diamond Manor biweekly, and how they all looked the same to him. How they would try to seduce him, kiss him, and get him into bed. “Don’t you want this?” Some had even asked him.

So Hongjoong wasn’t sending them to sabotage or distract Seonghwa, he was sending them because that’s what he believed was Seonghwa’s type.

Seonghwa takes the safety off the second pistol in his hand and stares at his husband, “I think you misheard us. That’s Soyeon’s type. Also, it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“What?” Hongjoong gapes at Seonghwa and then pauses to think, ignoring the eavesdropping comment. “Are you serious?” And then the club owner nearly hits himself in the face with the butt of his gun when his hands fly up to his hair in realization, “wait, I’ve been…”

“Sending me prostitutes?” Seonghwa snickers as he shoves an additional loaded magazine into his back pocket. He slides another one over for Hongjoong to pick up.

“They’re not prostitutes,” Hongjoong defends. “They’re my… Employees…”

Seonghwa remembers Kim Dowan who was at the manor recently, begging to orgasm, and young, tattooed Yooshin at the bar at In Your Fantasy. Both resembled the many men who have visited Diamond Manor in the past few years. “You sent your employees to seduce me? Why?”

“I felt—” Hongjoong’s face flushes pink as he admits truthfully, “bad. That I made you feel so lonely. And that we didn’t consummate the marriage.”

The raven haired man can tell Hongjoong is being sincere since, even though they’ve drifted apart in the last six years, he’s known Hongjoong for all of his life. “Marriages are meant to be consummated by the married couple, Joongie,” the nickname slips out and is void of the usual venomous tone that Seonghwa says it in. “Not me and some guy. Hold on…” Seonghwa glares at Hongjoong again, “did you ‘consummate’ our marriage with someone else?”

“What? No!” Hongjoong yelps and raises his hands in mock surrender as if that will prove he’s being honest. “Of course not. I’m a virgin—” That pink flush across his cheekbones deepens to a dark red as the brunette stops himself from completing the admission, and then he scrubs his non-weapon wielding hand over his face in shame. “Fuck.”

Elation warms Seonghwa’s entire body and slightly melts the guard he’s put up in his heart to all things related to Hongjoong. “Really?”

Hongjoong doesn’t meet his eye. “I mean… Yeah…” The shorter man tries to shrug nonchalantly. “You’ve known me since we left the womb… I’ve never been in a relationship and then we got married, and I would never cheat on you. I don’t know why you thought Mingi said I had many lovers, I’m so awkward—”

Seonghwa hears footsteps in the distance and he feels mild rage at the person interrupting their confessions, but he also knows that, despite what Hongjoong said, now is probably not the best time to be deep in this conversation.

“Shh,” Seonghwa urges and the two crouch down behind the display case. They’re not completely covered, but they’re out of view from that damn hole in the wall that if the person was just passing, they wouldn’t be seen.

The footsteps get closer and closer, and then there’s the sound of rubble and drywall crunching under a shoe, signalling the person passing the loading dock. There’s the crackling sound of a walkie-talkie and a female voice says, “I’m clear. Heading to the foyer again. How long are we staying, anyway?”

“Until we find the shipment! And until our Lady is done having her fun…”

“Can she hurry the fuck up? I have ice cream in the car.”

“Why in the hell did you bring ice cream—”

The footsteps and voices carry on down the hall and start to fade.

Seonghwa waits a few more seconds to ensure that the woman and any other crony are not within the vicinity before tilting his head towards the hole in the wall. Hongjoong nods and follows him and they slip through the wall into the hallway.

Seonghwa picks up his bloodied kris dagger on the floor, discarded by the man who probably ripped it out of his arm after the struggle, and hitches it onto his belt. “We’re having sex later, by the way,” the director says to his husband as they sneak down the hallway in the opposite direction of the woman and foyer.

“What?” Hongjoong trips over some of the debris on the ground and has to use his free hand to slap the wall beside him to prevent himself from falling to the marble floor. “What?”

“I don’t forgive you,” Seonghwa elaborates as they pass the staircase they had gone up earlier. “But I need you to fuck me. I’ve been stretching, so I can put my leg over my head now.”

“What the fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says for the nth time tonight.

“Hair pulling, spanking, knife or gun play, blindfolds, gags,” Seonghwa lists as they quietly walk towards the area they know as the dining room where they had Kyungsoo’s feast. “Bondage, handcuffs, and all the toys are on the table for me. You?”

They reach the dining room and stop shy of entering to position themselves; one of each side of the open double doors.

Hongjoong’s ears are bright red and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. “I— For our first time I imagined we’d… Light a strawberry candle or something. And play romantic music.”

“A strawberry candle,” Seonghwa parrots, “why?”

“Cause you like strawberries…” Hongjoong grumbles.

Seonghwa blinks at him and that happy warmth blossoms in his chest again. Ugh, fuck Kim Hongjoong. Later. “I’m okay with that too,” the raven haired man mutters, his own cheeks flushing in delight, and he peeks into the large dining room to hide it. 

The now-cold food is still on the circular antique table. Some of it has been thrown to the floor, along with broken dishes, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone around or any bullet holes in the walls to indicate that there was any fatal threat in this area.

“Let’s move towards the kitchen.”

Hongjoong trails after his husband as he and Seonghwa shuffle across the dining room and through one of the swinging doors that leads into the kitchen.

The Kim-Do kitchen is more akin to an industrial kitchen than a home one, and it’s to be expected of a well renowned chef and restaurateur like Do Kyungsoo. 

There are many stainless steel stovetops, ovens, fridges, and freezers, and over a dozen countertop stations occupy the open space. Kitchen utensils, knife blocks, pots, pans, and all sorts of kitchen appliances are littered across each countertop. There’s a huge pantry of fresh ingredients next to the fridges and freezers, and beside the pantry is a closet full of aprons, hairnets, cleaning supplies, and first aid kits.

The moment they enter the kitchen, a male voice shouts, “who’s there?!”

Seonghwa tugs on Hongjoong’s arm and both duck just as bullets are fired.

“Why would you ask ‘who’s there’ and then fire anyway?” Seonghwa screams at the shooter. He crawls behind one of the counters and takes a large wok from the open cabinet into his free hand.

“Who are you?” A second male voice shouts and it sounds like they’ve advanced closer towards them from their original spot on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Seonghwa doesn’t answer him this time and waits behind the counter to listen for the men’s footsteps. He glances at Hongjoong, who is crouched behind another countertop with a jar of pickles in his hand.

Seonghwa snaps his fingers at his husband and points to the pickle jar in bemusement. What the fuck is Hongjoong going to do with that? There are knives, pans, graters… Literally anything else he could’ve picked!

Hongjoong waves his gun at him like that explains anything.

“Over there!” The first male voice says when they hear Seonghwa’s snap. The director mouths at Hongjoong to drop the pickle jar.

The footsteps become hurried as the men break out into a run on either side of them, and Seonghwa sucks in a breath and hopes Hongjoong can handle the other man on his flank.

When the footsteps are close enough, Seonghwa springs up from behind the counter and swings the wok at the man, who goes down backwards and blood pours from his now crooked nose. Seonghwa turns the unconscious man over with his foot so he doesn’t choke on his own blood when he hears a ‘crash!’ beside him.

The man on Hongjoong’s side is also out cold on his back, gun far away from his body. Seonghwa walks over to Hongjoong to see the broken pickle jar on the floor and the soles of the man’s shoes are soaked in pickle juice.

Hongjoong threw the jar and the man slipped and knocked himself out.

Seonghwa is speechless. And slightly turned on.

The two husbands bound the unconscious mens’ hands and ankles with cooking twine when they hear a faint thump to the left.

“It came from the pantry,” Hongjoong says and he and Seonghwa shuffle towards it.

They scan all of the produce but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. Just fruits, vegetables, canned and dried goods, and racks of sauces and spices. There are two Kim-Do chefs hiding behind one of the shelving units, silently crying into each other.

Hongjoong places his index finger to his lips for them to keep quiet when the chefs see them. Seonghwa motions for the employees to make their way out of the pantry and whispers for them to head towards the gate outside.

Before they leave, one thanks the two for helping them and the other urgently points in the direction of the opposite shelving. There’s a small rug near one of the shelving units, which is a bit out of place in a pantry. It’s also oddly slanted, as if someone moved it slightly.

Seonghwa nods in understanding to the chef and both employees take off and leave the kitchen.

Hongjoong squats to the rug and flips a corner of it up, revealing a 3-foot-by-3-foot door in the ground. There’s no lock, only a recessed metal ring that acts as the handle to pull it up.

Seonghwa points his gun at the door while Hongjoong grasps the ring to yank it upwards.

It’s the wine cellar. There’s no immediate threat, but it’s dimly lit and they can’t see anything without descending the steps. They know someone is down there as there’s droplets of blood that leave a trail within, and they doubt the Kim-Do chefs would have pointed it out if it wasn’t important.

Hongjoong positions his gun in front of him and takes the lead first with Seonghwa checking behind them before following.

There are many racks of brand name and luxurious wines and liquors lining the narrow corridor of the cellar. The racks break in the center where there’s a nice table display of the alcohol bottles. The corridor itself is only ten feet long and leads to a dead-end ‘T’ where it splits off in two directions and houses large barrels of whiskey.

As Hongjoong and Seonghwa near the end of the corridor, a weak and slightly scared voice threatens, “d-don’t come any closer…”

They continue.

“I mean it!” The voice would be more menacing if the person didn’t sound like they were in pain.

When they get to the end and whip around to the left where the voice came from, guns poised and ready, they find Jongin slumped against one of the barrels.

His skin is pallid and his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat as he clutches his lower abdomen. Blood surrounds his hand and Hongjoong hitches his gun to his belt and rushes to the older man.

“Hyung, oh my God… Are you alright?” Hongjoong carefully removes Jongin’s hand from his stomach to gauge the severity of the wound.

“It’s a mild stab,” Jongin jokes and grunts in pain when Hongjoong presses his palm to it. It is definitely not a mild stab. “Shit, Hongjoong-ah, Seonghwa-yah… It’s Minah. It’s Jongdae’s wife, Minah.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Hongjoong keeps his hands on the wound. Seonghwa grabs the cloth from the alcohol display table and crouches on the other side of Jongin to tie it around his midriff. “Why are they here?”

“Does it have anything to do with the shipment we brought?” Seonghwa asks and tightens the cloth around Jongin’s abdomen. The dancer’s jaw clenches in pain, but he doesn’t tell Seonghwa to stop.

“Yes, she’s here for it. But…” Jongin watches as Seonghwa’s hands expertly knot the two ends of the cloth. “If that’s all she wanted, Jongdae hyung would’ve come for it himself and negotiated. She’s idiotically doing this violent outburst on purpose.”

“On purpose?” 

Jongin chuckles weakly, “remember how I said we were all friends… I was— I was supposed to marry Minah to unite the Kims and Jangs. But I couldn’t go through with it, so a counter deal was made for her to marry Jongdae instead, and I moved on to be betrothed to the Dos.” 

Seonghwa mutters, “she loved you.”

Jongin exhales shakily, “yes. But I didn’t— I couldn’t. I was in love with someone else.”

“Kyungsoo hyung,” Seonghwa says and Jongin nods.

“We have to get you to the hospital,” Hongjoong urges and lifts one of Jongin’s arms to duck underneath it.

The older man tries to swat the brunette away. “No!” Jongin protests. “You have to find Kyungsoo, please. I—” The man winces as he tries to sit upright. “We split up in the foyer and I… I don’t know where he is. He might be in our bedroom, or in the library, I—” The cloth around his abdomen is already blooming red and he needs medical help soon. Jongin looks at the two younger men with worried and pleading eyes, “I don’t know if he’s… You have to find him, please. Please!”

“Hyung…” Seonghwa grimaces, already fearing the worst. “We need to get you to safety—”

Despite his weak disposition earlier, Jongin fixes a stern look on the two younger men and says firmly, “I’m not fucking leaving without my husband. If he’s dead, you can leave me here to die as well.”

Something tugs at Seonghwa’s heart at the clear declaration of devotion. Of love. Two men in an arranged marriage and yet they would die for each other. Seonghwa knows Jongin and Kyungsoo’s story is similar to his and Hongjoong’s; two friends, two second-born children, and a forced marriage.

But Jongin and Kyungsoo love each other.

Seonghwa pulls out his phone and dials Yunho’s number. The man answers before the second ring, “Yunho-yah. Forget the shipment. I need you, San, and Jongho in the kitchen cellar, come in through the pantry. Jongin hyung needs to be escorted out and he’s heavily injured. There are first aid kits in the kitchen closet.”

“Copy. I’ll have Mingi bring the van to the front.”

“No, tell Wooyoung to back out the truck, it’s closer. I don’t know how many of the Kim-Jangs are patrolling outside now, so be careful. Have Mingi stay here with the van for me and Hongjoong, and Yeosang to scout the perimeter for you.”

“Done.”

The line goes dead with a click.

“Jongin hyung, we—” Seonghwa looks at the older man but he’s gone silent, eyes closed and slumped against the barrel again.

He’s still alive as he’s breathing raggedly, but Hongjoong presses his index and third fingers to Jongin’s neck anyway and sighs in relief, “he’s fine, but we need to get him medical help or he won’t be. Hwa, he can’t wait until we’ve found Kyungsoo.”

Seonghwa stares at his husband and his eyes flicker to Hongjoong’s hands, soiled with Jongin’s blood. There are rings on every single one of his fingers except the fourth on his left hand, where his wedding band should be. 

Then he looks at the marigold earrings nestled in Hongjoong’s lobes, well taken care of and still vibrant even in the dim lighting of the cellar.

They have a lot to talk about, a lot to reconcile over, and though the disdain for Hongjoong and his actions over the last six years runs deep, Seonghwa cannot lie to himself: he loves Hongjoong, and would make the same request that Jongin had for Kyungsoo if they were in this situation.

“Let’s go then. Quickly. Yunho, San, and Jongho will be here soon,” Seonghwa ensures the cloth is still tight around Jongin’s waist before the two stand and make their way back up to the pantry.

They navigate through the kitchen, back into the dining room, and go towards the staircase they had taken earlier.

“It’ll be faster if we split up to check the library and master bedroom,” Hongjoong suggests as he takes one step up the staircase.

Seonghwa’s hand moves on its own when he reaches out to grip the sleeve of the brunette’s dress shirt from the landing. Hongjoong turns around to look down at him curiously. “What?”

“No,” Seonghwa mumbles and swallows around the lump that formed in his throat since Jongin begged for his husband. The gun in his palm feels too heavy and the weight of the situation, despite what he said about no one dying, looms over him. 

What if he lets Hongjoong out of his sight and then never sees him again? His last words would’ve been him telling Hongjoong he hates him and a list of all the kinks he wants to try in the bedroom.

“No?” Hongjoong prompts him, expecting a reason for the refusal to split up. “Seonghwa, we don’t have a lot of time—”

With him up one step, Hongjoong is ever-so-slightly taller than Seonghwa. Hand still fisted in his shirt sleeve, Seonghwa raises himself to his tip toes to press his lips to Hongjoong’s. It’s soft, light, and a stark contrast to how they were aggressively kissing in the loading dock hallway earlier, fuelled by unresolved tension.

When Seonghwa pulls away, Hongjoong’s eyelashes flutter open prettily and he gazes down at the raven haired man fondly.

“Hwa-yah?” Hongjoong murmurs and reaches up to cup Seonghwa’s jaw with his free hand. He regards Seonghwa looking up at him with round, tender eyes and a slight pout to his lower lip, the most earnest expression he’s seen in six years and so reminiscent of their youth. 

The brunette moves his hand from Seonghwa’s jaw to brush a few stray strands of ebony hair away from Seonghwa’s beautiful eyes, and he dips down to kiss him again, but the director steps back and away from Hongjoong’s hold.

“Nothing,” Seonghwa shakes his head and moves forward to overtake his husband on the staircase. He ignores his heart hammering against his ribcage and positions his gun in front again, “I’m not letting you go on your own. I saw you grab that fucking pickle jar. Ridiculous.”

“It worked, didn't it?” Hongjoong says with a chuckle but Seonghwa doesn't reassure him.

They make their way in the opposite direction of where their room was once they reach the landing of the upper floor. Seonghwa plasters his back against the wall of the corridor and signals for Hongjoong to do the same on the opposite wall, both with their guns positioned in front and pointed down to the ground.

“The master bedroom must be this way, do you think the library is up here as well?”

Seonghwa glances around, “I’m not sure. Let's check up here first.”

“Do you think she’ll hurt him?”

“If she kills him, the entire Kim family…” Seonghwa trails off. He doesn’t exactly know what Jongin’s family will do to Jang Minah, but it can’t be good. Betrayals within syndicate families are not taken lightly, and the punishment would be even greater given it’s Jongdae’s cousin’s spouse. “She can’t be that dumb.”

“Hey! Who are you?” A female voice shrieks from the other end of the corridor and Hongjoong ducks behind a console table while Seonghwa pushes into an adjacent room to avoid the bullet spray that’s shot at them.

“These fucking people,” Seonghwa mumbles furiously. Then he shouts into the corridor, exactly what he said in the kitchen to the assailants there, “why the fuck are you shooting before the answer?!”

“Who are you?” The woman screams again and a walkie talkie crackles as the woman’s footsteps advance towards Hongjoong and Seonghwa, “I have two men up here, close to the master bedroom.”

“Are they armed?”

“Not sure.”

Seonghwa gestures for Hongjoong to cover him while he scouts the corridor. The brunette nods and positions his gun on the edge of the console table he’s hiding behind, and they countdown to each other to coordinate.

Hongjoong aims his gun at the same time that Seonghwa pokes his head out from the door frame.

It only takes Seonghwa two seconds to assess the situation and finds two women in the corridor, both with their weapons cocked. The woman with the walkie talkie spots Seonghwa first but before she can shoot, Hongjoong fires a shot to her shoulder.

It only grazes her, but she goes down with a blood curdling scream and her companion shoots erratically at the console table. While the companion is distracted with shooting at Hongjoong, Seonghwa whips his kris dagger at her gun and the blade knocks the weapon right out of her hand.

In the moment of confusion and now disarmed, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong leap out of their hiding spots to charge at the two women. Hongjoong uses the butt of his gun to knock the disarmed woman out while Seonghwa applies a swift chopping motion to the base of the injured woman’s neck to get her to stop screaming.

The husbands drag the unconscious women into a random room and close the door, with Seonghwa bashing the door handle outside to hinder their escape for when they eventually awaken.

“What happened? What’s going on?” The fallen walkie talkie crackles in the corridor.

Seonghwa picks up the device and presses the ‘TALK’ button, “have any of you learned to receive an answer to a question you’ve asked before firing your weapon?”

“Who are you?!”

“Park Sungyong has been notified and the Kim-Park family of upper Seoul are on the way. If you don’t clear out in the next five minutes, there will be consequences and not of the sexy kind.” Seonghwa drops the walkie talkie to the floor and crushes it under the heel of his boot.

“They won’t leave, they’ve come too far,” Hongjoong says as he and Seongwha continue down the corridor towards the master bedroom.

“No, but they’ll be scared. I hope whatever Jang Minah is doing is worth it.”

They’re cautious as they navigate the upper floor; thankfully, it doesn’t split off into many other corridors from the main one and the master bedroom is relatively easy to find as it’s the only room with double doors. It also has a little chef hat and a dance shoe on a customized ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ door sign hanging off the knobs, so unmistakably Jongin and Kyungsoo’s room.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong flank either side of the doors and strain to listen to any movement and conversation on the other side.

“Can you hear anything?” Hongjoong whispers.

Seonghwa shakes his head, “it’s too muffled. But it’s strange…”

Hongjoong periodically glances down the corridor where they just came from while Seonghwa tries to press his ear against the door. “What’s strange?”

“If she were keeping Kyungsoo hyung in here, you’d think she’d be making more of a commotion and raising hell.”

“Hm. Can you identify how many there are in there?”

Seonghwa keeps his head against the wood of the door for a few more seconds before taking a guess. “That’s the other strange part. They aren’t talking much.”

“We should bust in,” Hongjoong says, “if hyung isn’t in there, we need to move on. And those in there will be notified soon that we’re up here.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa agrees. “On three.”

Hongjoong counts them down and then the two are each kicking a door in, pistols at the ready.

Since Seonghwa and Hongjoong have the element of surprise, they’re able to shoot and subdue three men in their shoulders once they storm inside. But the Kim-Jang men within have the upper hand as they witness the two men stream in through the one entrance.

Seonghwa is able to duck and avoid someone trying to grab him while Hongjoong is seized from behind. The director kicks his assailant’s feet out from underneath and hits him square in the face with his gun, but then is immediately yanked backwards by his hair by someone else.

Across from him, a man has Hongjoong in a chokehold, forcing the brunette to drop his weapon. The person gripping Seonghwa’s hair maneuvers him into a chokehold as well so now the two husbands are face to face in captivity.

It only takes one wink from Hongjoong for Seonghwa to get the message. The club owner goes slack in his captor’s hold and the man panics at Hongjoong having gone limp so suddenly. When his arm loosens around Hongjoong’s neck slightly, the brunette clutches the man’s forearm and uses all of his body weight to swing them around so now the man’s back is to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa leverages his assailant’s hold on him to push up and off the ground and uses the man as a support when the director’s feet leave the ground. Seonghwa kicks Hongjoong’s captor in the head and when Hongjoong is free, the brunette punches the man holding his husband right in the nose once Seonghwa finds his footing on the ground.

Both men are knocked out cold with their four injured companions when a seventh surprise man, exiting the en suite bathroom behind, grabs Hongjoong by his necklace and tugs.

The chain breaks and two metal blurs, one silver and one gold, fly off of it and past Seonghwa’s head.

Seonghwa is about to reach for his fallen gun on the floor when Hongjoong’s expression contorts into something the raven haired man has never seen before in their twenty seven years of living.

Hongjoong’s eyes darken menacingly, his lips press into a thin line, and the corners of his mouth downturn unpleasantly. His forehead doesn’t crease with anger but his jaw clenches and that prominent vein in his neck protrudes visibly. The scariest thing about his demeanour is the sense of calm wrath surrounding the brunette that has Seonghwa's heart jumping into his throat.

Then, instead of picking up his own gun, Hongjoong whirls around and begins to mercilessly beat the man who grabbed and broke his necklace.

Seonghwa is too stunned at the scene unfolding before him to stop his husband; Hongjoong’s fists connect with the man’s face with sickening cracks, and even when the man goes down, pleading for his life and heavily bleeding, Hongjoong doesn’t stop.

The sounds of flesh squelching and the imagery of the man’s blood splattering on Hongjoong’s face is disturbing. And that's coming from Seonghwa, who has grown up desensitized to violence and this environment.

Seonghwa only snaps out of it when Hongjoong changes from using his knuckles to his feet, raising his foot to stomp down on the man’s chest when he goes down, now unconscious. They’ve only been shooting and hitting to subdue, not to kill, and if Hongjoong continues with this beating, Seonghwa is sure he’ll end the man’s life he was begging for earlier.

“Hongjoong-ah, stop it!” Seonghwa yells and dashes to his husband to grab his elbow. He pulls at the brunette, but the shorter man doesn’t budge. He’s always been stronger than he looked, and Seonghwa has to use both arms to pull Hongjoong away, kicking and huffing like a rabid animal, from the motionless, bloodied mess of a man on the floor.

They struggle against each other due to Hongjoong fighting to go back to hit some more, so Seonghwa circles his arms around the brunette’s neck to embrace him as they stumble backwards onto the king sized bed.

They fall onto the mattress with Seonghwa underneath Hongjoong: the shorter man is slotted between his legs and his face is buried in the director’s chest. Seonghwa tightens his hold around his tense husband.

They stay like that for a few more minutes and Seonghwa instinctively reaches up to card a comforting hand through Hongjoong’s brown hair until the man goes limp in his hold, giving up.

Seonghwa’s heart beats crazily against his chest at the fresh image of Hongjoong punching that man so ferociously, driven by some unknown yet clearly vital reason. He’s sure Hongjoong can feel it too.

“Can’t breathe,” Hongjoong mumbles into the fabric of Seonghwa’s shawl after a few minutes and only then does Seonghwa relax his hold so the club owner can lift his face to look up at him. “Sorry.”

Seonghwa sees that the skin of Hongjoong’s neck where the chain was resting is red and irritated, but now just looks a bit silly compared to the blood smeared across his face. His eyes don’t carry that menacing aura anymore and now he just looks… Sad.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa asks carefully. He slowly releases his hold on Hongjoong completely so the other man can slide to the floor to his knees while he sits upright on the bed. “Was that necklace really that important to you?” He’s never known Hongjoong to be a fan of jewellery besides hand rings and earrings.

Hongjoong turns his head to look over at the discarded chain now on the floor and mutters, “yeah.”

The club owner stands and helps Seonghwa up as well. He walks over to the broken chain while Seonghwa moves to pick up the two metal pieces that flew off of it.

Seonghwa’s heart stops.

Lying on the floor is his star pendant charm and Hongjoong’s wedding ring.

He can’t pinpoint a single emotion in the wave of fervor that washes over him: surprise, confusion, affection, bewilderment, shock, warmth, astonishment.

Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s imagining it.

Seonghwa blinks to refocus and even rubs his eyes before gazing down at the two items on the floor.

Nope, not a dream. Not his imagination.

Glinting in the lights is unmistakably the star pendant with the marquise diamond in the center and the matching, gold wedding ring to the one currently snug on his own fourth finger.

And Hongjoong’s reaction to it being broken, almost lost, was visceral. Possessive. Protective.

Seonghwa turns around to find Hongjoong already behind him, the broken chain hanging from his palm.

Seonghwa stares at him. Hongjoong stares back.

Then the shorter man gives his husband a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, like he isn’t sending Seonghwa into an emotional whirlwind of mixed emotions and thoughts, bends down, and swipes the pendant and ring off of the floor.

He secures both into his pants pocket, along with the chain, and walks over to his gun to pick that up as well. When he notices that Seonghwa still hasn’t moved, the owner shuffles back over to his husband to pick up the fallen gun to place into Seonghwa’s limp hand.

“Kyungsoo hyung isn’t here. We have to check the library fast,” Hongjoong says and Seonghwa’s head is reeling, barely able to process his words. “Your father will be here soon.”

Hongjoong takes the lead this time and exits the master bedroom first with Seonghwa robotically following, his mind a mess.

⚜

Due to Seonghwa’s warning of Park Sungyong en route, it seems that most of the Kim-Jang cronies have cleared out of the Kim-Do mansion. Seonghwa and Hongjoong encounter little to none of the employees in three piece suits on their way to the library on the main floor, and run into San, Mingi, Jongho, and Yeosang when they pass through the foyer.

“We’ve been rounding up the Kim-Do employees to safety, and binding the Kim-Jangs,” San says. “We’ve cleared the ground floor. Jongin-ssi is with Yunho and Wooyoung.”

“Are you hurt?” Yeosang inquires to Seonghwa worriedly and smushes the director’s cheeks together to inspect his face, then grabs his hands to inspect his arms, and then starts to pat his hips and legs.

When the secretary pats his butt, Seonghwa yelps in surprise, “Sangie, who knew you were so frisky? Do you want to be added to the double-ended dildo list with Yunho-yah and San-ah? You three can rotate.”

“No,” Yeosang denies immediately, though his ears are bright red.

“Hyung, do you need more ammo?” San offers up a loaded magazine but Seonghwa swishes his shawl to the side to show San that he has a second pistol tucked into his belt.

Hongjoong looks at Mingi, who gives the shorter man a puzzled look. “What?”

“Are you gonna ask me if I’m hurt?”

Mingi doesn’t even seem fazed by the blood smudged on Hongjoong’s face, “you look fine to me. You’re not limping, are you?”

Hongjoong looks at Jongho, who’s already looking at him stoically, “are you gonna offer me more ammo?”

Jongho regards the pistol in Hongjoong’s hand, “I just assumed you would be carrying a secondary like Seonghwa hyung.” 

Hongjoong turns to Yeosang and San, “what is my husband paying you? I can double it.”

“Fat chance,” Seonghwa snorts. “Yeosang-ah, do you have an ETA on my father?”

Yeosang briefly checks his watch, “I contacted him over an hour ago when Yunho asked. He should be here any minute.”

“You and San continue to scout the upper floor. Mingi-yah, Jongho-yah, head to the lower floor,” Seonghwa instructs. “We’re trying to find the library.”

“It’s that way,” Yeosang says and points to the left of the foyer, in the opposite direction of where the dining room and kitchen is. “Take the first right in the hallway, and then go all the way down. It has two double door entrances. We didn’t see anyone when we passed through, though that was well over half an hour ago.”

“We think Jang Minah moved from the master bedroom to the library recently,” Seonghwa explains.

The six men part with promises of being careful and Seonghwa and Hongjoong follow Yeosang’s instructions towards the library.

Like the cellar with Jongin, there’s a trail of droplets of blood leading up to the library. Following the trail of blood, there are bloody footprints to show that two people must’ve headed this way.

As mentioned, there are two double door entrances to the library, where one is closed completely and one has a single door wide open with the sound of a woman screaming obscenities. There isn’t any response to her, which has Seonghwa’s gut twisting uncomfortably at what that could mean.

They approach the entrance briskly to keep their footsteps quiet, masking the padding of their feet under the woman’s shouting.

“Hwa, wait,” Hongjoong says as they hide behind the one closed door of the second entrance, guns at the ready.

Seonghwa is about to peek into the room when Hongjoong tugs at the back of his shirt.

“What?” Seonghwa blinks at his husband. “Kyungsoo hyung is—”

Hongjoong brushes Seonghwa’s hair behind his ear before gripping the back of the taller man’s head to kiss him.

It’s short and sweet, just a press of their lips together.

Seonghwa stares down at his husband, “what was that for?”

“There’s a lot of things I want to tell you after,” Hongjoong says. “Can you promise that we’ll talk later?”

“With or without the spank paddle?”

Hongjoong bites back a laugh, “Hwa.”

Seonghwa looks at the marigold earrings and then at the smudged blood on Hongjoong’s face, remembering his star pendant and the wedding band that was on the necklace. “Okay, Joongie. I promise.”

Hongjoong smiles cutely at him, the smile where his teeth don’t show but the corners of his lips upturn endearingly. Seonghwa resists the urge to kiss him again as Hongjoong shuffles in front of him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll check first,” the brunette declares and adjusts his grip on his gun.

Hongjoong pokes his head into the room first and spots Jang Minah by the many bookshelves lining the back wall. Her back is to them; her long, dyed red hair is drawn into a messy ponytail and she’s wearing what looks to be a white, fluffy bathrobe. She waves a handgun around in the air as she stands over Kyungsoo, who’s slumped against the shelf looking pale as he clutches at his injured side, red blooming in between his fingers.

“You’ve ruined my life, and now look at the mess you’ve made all over what should be my library floor,” Minah shouts at the man.

Hongjoong motions for Seonghwa to follow him.

As they advance on Jang Minah, Kyungsoo spots them and they signal for him to remain impassive.

“I don’t even know what Jongin sees in you anyway, you can’t bear his heirs like I can.”

“Minah… Please,” Kyungsoo says weakly but his head lolls forward, barely hanging on to consciousness. “Jongin… Jongin didn’t want to marry you, I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“Shut up, you liar!” Minah fixes her gun on the man and that’s when Seonghwa and Hongjoong make their presence known.

“Drop the weapon, Jang Minah!” Seonghwa shouts and both he and Hongjoong train their pistols on her.

She swivels around and points her weapon at them instead. “What the fuck?”

Facing them, they can see that her bathrobe has Jongin’s name stitched into the chest and the entire front of the fuzzy material is soaked in blood, no doubt Kyungsoo’s from when she escorted the man from the bedroom to the library. Her beautiful features are twisted into a crazed expression, like someone who’s gone mad with obsession and devotion.

“You two!” Minah squeals in rage. “You’re that Kim-Park couple, the second same-sex marriage within the organizations!”

“That’s us,” Seonghwa muses and repeats, “drop the gun, Minah.”

Instead, Minah keeps her gun on them, sporadically changing it to point at Seonghwa and then Hongjoong.

“There’s two of us and one of you,” Hongjoong states the obvious. “If you shoot, you’re as good as dead.”

“So?” Minah sneers, “you think I care about dying? I’m already miserable, married to the wrong fucking Kim!”

“What’s your plan here?” Seonghwa asks her. Behind the woman, Kyungsoo has gone silent, limp against the shelving. “Take the shipment to Jongdae and kill Kyungsoo?”

“My father-in-law said that if I bring him this shipment, he’d consider a divorce.” Minah responds.

Seonghwa’s grip on his gun tightens at the mention of the word ‘divorce’, the very word that was uttered by Hongjoong earlier today to his own father.

Minah continues, “but I couldn’t resist paying this husband stealer a visit. You know Jongin was betrothed to me first? Me! But this idiot wouldn’t leave us alone, he had to interfere!”

“Kyungsoo wasn’t the one who called off your marriage,” Hongjoong says and Minah fixes her gun on him at his words, eyes wide with rage. “It was Jongin.”

“Don’t lie to me! You’re all lying to me!”

“Why would we lie to you? If you surrender now, we can all talk about this... Kyungsoo needs medical help now, Minah-ssi.”

Minah laughs but it’s void of humour. “Let him die.”

“Jongin will never forgive you,” Seonghwa says harshly. He’s done being nice to her as he hears tires screeching and a low rumbling from outside: probably his father and his men arriving at the residence.

“He loves him,” Hongjoong adds and Seonghwa tears his gaze away from Minah to look at the brunette. Hongjoong meets his eye before refocusing on Minah, “yes, it was an arranged marriage… But I— er, Jongin loves him. The circumstances of the marriage may have been made in their families’ interests, but it won’t change the fact that he loves him and wouldn’t have married him otherwise. He had the choice to refuse you, and made the choice to marry the man that he loves.”

Minah doesn’t answer right away and they can see the tears start to well in her eyes, a hopeless and heartbroken woman hiding behind this angry outburst. “But I… I love Jongin!”

“Talk to him, Minah-ssi,” Hongjoong encourages. “You were— are good friends, right? Childhood friends? There are fond memories and feelings that you both carry. Don't throw that away because of a miscommunication.”

“He’ll understand,” Seonghwa chimes in softly. “Trust me… I— Jongin will understand.”

Only then does Minah lower her gun. She sniffles as she stares at the floor when the tears fall. “I… I…” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong lower their guns as well and walk forward to detain her when she glances back at Kyungsoo. Looking at the unconscious man seems to ignite her fury again and she whips around with her gun up.

“I’ve come too far!” She screams and fires.

Hongjoong reacts quicker than Seonghwa does as the raven haired man was reaching for Minah’s weapon. The shorter man shoves Seonghwa to the side as he takes his place in front of the woman’s gun while trying to knock it out of her hand.

Thankfully, this prevents it from hitting his abdomen, but the bullet does strike him in the left shoulder.

Seonghwa falls to the floor and he immediately shoots at Minah’s leg.

His bullet pierces her calf and she cries out in anguish, dropping her weapon in favour of clutching her bleeding leg. Seonghwa kicks her gun away as he rushes over to Hongjoong.

Men in all black ensembles and armed with assault rifles blast through the two library entrances and aim at the woman hunched over on the floor.

“Jang Minah!” A loud, speaker voice says from somewhere outside and above. Bright lights stream in through the library windows as that rumbling sound gets louder, signalling that Sungyong sent a helicopter. “Surrender yourself immediately!”

As the Park men seize a wailing Minah and attend to the injured Kyungsoo, Seonghwa searches Hongjoong’s shoulder for the wound and prays that it isn’t anywhere fatal as it’s on the left side of the brunette’s body.

“Oh my God, oh my God, are you out of your fucking mind, Kim Hongjoong?!” Seonghwa cries and supports Hongjoong from behind as the two sit on the floor. Hongjoong leans backwards on his lap while Seonghwa gets to work over him.

He rips the neckline of Hongjoong’s shirt to access the wound, and he sighs in relief when he sees that it’s lodged just above his clavicle. It’s nowhere near his neck or heart and in a spot where it wouldn’t have hit bone. Seonghwa tears the fabric of his shawl and first secures a piece to the wound to stop the bleeding and then uses the rest of the material to create a makeshift sling for the club owner’s arm.

The whole time Seonghwa works, Hongjoong just stares up at him in awe.

“What? What are you looking at?” Seonghwa wipes at his eyes once he’s patched Hongjoong up temporarily. “Do I have something on my face?”

Hongjoong lifts his right hand to brush his fingers across his husband’s blood and tear stained cheek. “You’re so gorgeous, Hwa. I’ve always thought so. Even when we were thirteen and you said your nose was too big for your face. I didn’t think it was too big for your face… Everything about you is perfect, I don’t even know how it’s possible to be so perfect…”

“Oh my God, Joongie,” Seonghwa bursts into tears, the adrenaline from the night starting to wear off, and blubbers, “you’re so fucking stupid.”

“And hot?” Hongjoong chuckles hopefully.

“Yes, you stupid, hot husband of mine,” Seonghwa cups Hongjoong’s face gently in his hands. “I can’t believe you took a bullet in the shoulder for me, what were you thinking?”

“Well, what do I need my left shoulder for, anyway? I’m right handed,” Hongjoong cheekily wiggles his right hand in front of Seonghwa’s face and then winces in pain when he’s moved too much.

“Your ambidexterity!” Seonghwa lets out a watery giggle and then some of his father’s men clear their throats to get their attention.

“Master Seonghwa,” Park Ilhoon, Sungyong’s secretary, says and other men surround them to escort Hongjoong out, “we’ve secured the area and Kim Jongin-ssi and Do Kyungsoo-ssi are already on their way to the nearest hospital. A medic is on site to attend to your husband, and your father is outside waiting to speak to you.”

“Thank you, Ilhoon-ssi,” Seonghwa watches as two men bracket Hongjoong to guide him outside and follows them out. “Did he have to send a fucking helicopter?”

Ilhoon laughs, “you know your father… He has to make the most dramatic entrance, our drama queen.”

“Hm, that must be where you get it from,” Hongjoong chirps in front of him.

Seonghwa lightly kicks Hongjoong's butt, but he can’t fight the smile on his lips.

⚜

A week later, Seonghwa finds himself in front of In Your Fantasy, clutching a manila envelope of documents. He came alone, no San, Yeosang, or Yunho, and dressed in a simple ensemble of a black turtleneck, white dress shirt, and blazer draped over his shoulders.

Given that it’s only around one in the afternoon, In Your Fantasy is completely empty with the staff milling about to clean the club to get it ready for opening later in the evening.

Seonghwa walks up to the bar and Yooshin jumps out of his skin when the director addresses him.

“G-Good afternoon, Mr. Kim! I mean, Mr. Park! Um, Mr. Kim-Park… Park-Kim? Oh God, I’m so sorry,” the barback frowns and Seonghwa waves a dismissive hand at him.

“Either is fine, Yooshin-ah. In fact, you can just call me Seonghwa-ssi.”

Yooshin smiles hesitantly at the director and places a rocks glass on the counter. He fills it with ice and starts to pour liquor into it, “o-okay. Thank you, Seonghwa-ssi. Can I help you with something?”

“I’m here to see my husband.”

“Oh,” Yooshin ceases his pouring and not-so-subtly moves the alcohol away from Seonghwa. “Er, are you armed?”

Seonghwa gives him an amused stare.

Yooshin rambles, “I’m so sorry, Seonghwa-ssi, but Jongho-ssi and Wooyoung-ssi instructed me to ask that before I give you alcohol or before I let Hongjoong-ssi see you… It’s protocol.”

“You’re just doing your job,” Seonghwa chuckles and shows off the manila envelope in his hand. “I’m not armed. I only have these documents with me.”

“Okay, I’ll call Hongjoong-ssi for you.”

“No need, Yooshin-ah,” Hongjoong’s voice titters from where he’s exited the swinging door of the kitchen, behind the bar. “I’m here.”

“I’ll give you two privacy,” Yooshin bows ninety degrees to Seonghwa, then realizes what he’s doing and scurries through the swinging door.

“He’s cute,” Seonghwa comments, “a little naive though. He didn’t even check me, just took my word that I wasn’t armed.”

“Do you like him?” Hongjoong finishes pouring the drink Yooshin started for Seonghwa with his good hand, his left arm still in a sling. “I can send him over to Diamond Manor.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “you are not sending me anymore men. He’s not my type, anyway.”

Hongjoong slides the drink over to Seonghwa and the raven haired man knows he wants Seonghwa to clarify what his type is. The director would gladly tell him if asked explicitly. Hongjoong asks instead, “what are you doing here, Hwa?”

Seonghwa hands Hongjoong the manila envelope and takes a swig of the liquor, “my father asked me to bring this to you. We’ve won the favour of the Kim-Dos, who are well and making a great recovery with matching abdomen stitches. And also the Kim-Jangs, who expressed gratitude for saving Jongin and showing Minah mercy.”

Hongjoong sets the envelope down so he can use his good hand to tear it open. He pulls out the documents and when his eyes finish scanning the words on it, he looks up at Seonghwa with a conflicted expression. “This is…”

“Divorce papers,” Seonghwa says around the glass between his lips. “My father is granting your wish. I’ll need your signature on pages three to seven.”

“Have you signed it?”

Seonghwa pauses, “no… Not yet.”

Hongjoong stares down at the papers but doesn’t flip through them or say anything. Then he pushes the papers towards the bar sink, tilts his head in the direction of the private rooms, and says, “can I show you something?”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows in surprise but sets his glass down on the counter before following Hongjoong towards the many doors of private rooms around the perimeter of the lower floor of the club.

Hongjoong leads him behind the spiral staircase to the room labelled ‘STORAGE’ with three locks on it. The club owner fumbles with his keys with his one good hand to unlock all three, to which Seonghwa lets out a jovial giggle.

“What’s so secret in here that you need to lock it up thrice?” Seonghwa jests, “are you kinkier than I am? Do you have a giant tentacle dildo in there? Or an array of vibrators—”

The rest of his sentence dies in throat when the door swings inwards and he and Hongjoong step into the room.

The entire room, from wall to wall, is crowded with miscellaneous items and furniture. The shocking part? Every single thing Seonghwa either has at Diamond Manor or he’s expressed a desire for it and never got around to purchasing it.

There are several Lego sets of Star Wars, Animal Crossing, flowers, and plants. There are jewellery sets ranging from necklaces, earrings, rings, broaches, and body pieces. There are various keychains, magnets, and other trinkets in neat piles. 

Among the rest of the stuff:

A silver, L-shaped, luxury sofa that Seonghwa made a comment about at a Christmas dinner. 

A handmade and handwoven blanket that Seonghwa expressed a want for with the sofa at the New Years dinner after.

An extravagant vanity Seonghwa pointed out in a catalogue one summer ago. 

A framed art piece Seonghwa liked on social media once.

A silk, custom made bedsheet set Seonghwa talked about one Lunar New Year celebration.

A faux leather dress suit set from Isabel Marant that Seonghwa gushed over from her 2024 collection.

An antique vase and matching vintage cabinet that Seonghwa mentioned at one of his birthday lunches.

A fucking strawberry candle.

Seonghwa is speechless. He turns to Hongjoong and demands, “what is all of this?”

Hongjoong sighs. “Hwa, I’m a coward. I bought all of this for you, but never worked up the courage to give it to you. I’ve felt nothing but guilt over the last six years: when our fathers proposed the marriage to me, at first I was so excited because…” Hongjoong glances around abashedly to avoid eye contact, his cheeks dusted pink. “I’ve been in love with you since we were like, ten-years-old. I watched ‘The Notebook’ with my dad and thought, huh, I’d like to say all of that to Seonghwa. He may or may not have heard me mutter that.”

“But when I came to your house you wouldn’t even look at me,” Seonghwa blurts.

“I… I thought I wasn’t your type, and that you had a boyfriend or something,” Hongjoong grumbles. “So I thought for sure you’d reject the proposal. But then you accepted and I assumed you were just doing it to please your dad.”

Seonghwa feels a multitude of emotions bubble within his chest and gut, each one fighting to be at the forefront of his mind. “That’s half of it.”

“I was ashamed of forcing you into the marriage, so I threw myself into work and the club opening,” Hongjoong continues. “And things got out of hand from there, you know how I tend to bottle up my emotions... When you moved out, I thought it justified my choice to avoid you. But then I started to miss you and I held onto every word you said when we would see each other for family events and negotiations.”

Seonghwa points to the Isabel Marant dress suit, “I didn’t mention this at any family event.” Then he points to the framed artwork, “or this.”

“I may or may not have asked Yeosang to update me on everything about you…”

“Joongie,” Seonghwa sighs. Though he now knows Hongjoong has been wearing his star pendant and the wedding ring with it, he wants to know why. “Why don’t you wear your wedding ring? And how long have you been wearing my pendant?”

“It, uh, the ring doesn’t fit on my finger anymore,” Hongjoong admits meekly. “And I don’t trust anyone to get it adjusted because I don’t want it to break. I’ve been wearing the pendant since you moved out… It kind of felt like you were still with me because the star would rest over my… Heart.”

Seonghwa glances down at his own ring finger, heat coiling in his abdomen as his face flushes hot. A particular emotion starts to take over, and Seonghwa shrugs off his blazer, the clothing falling to the floor. “How could it not fit?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at Seonghwa’s discarded blazer as he replies, “I’ve been working out so I guess my fingers got fatter, which I didn’t know was possible—”

Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong into him by the collar of his shirt and smashes their mouths together. He’s careful not to jostle Hongjoong’s arm as he cups the base of the man’s neck with one hand and loosens his own tie with the other.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll need to schedule another appointment with my chiropractor,” Seonghwa says impatiently in between each the kiss as the two stumble over to the L-shaped sofa. “And you better have every organ in my body dripping with your cum—”

Seonghwa shoves Hongjoong onto the seat cushions, straddles his lap, unbuttons his dress shirt, and tosses his loosened tie to the side. 

Hongjoong grips the director’s hip with his good hand and grits his teeth as he stares at where Seonghwa is stripping the many layers of his tops, “holy fuck, Hwa—”

“Do you have a lighter?” Seonghwa scans the room as he grips the hem of his turtleneck, the last layer to be peeled off of his torso. “I can light the strawberry candle.”

“Screw the candle, Jesus Christ,” Hongjoong shoves Seonghwa’s turtleneck upwards to his chin so the taller man’s toned abdomen and chest are exposed. He wraps his good arm around Seonghwa’s waist and latches onto a pink nipple, suckling at the skin there.

Seonghwa moans and grips the hair at the base of Hongjoong’s neck to encourage him.

Hongjoong’s tongue swirls around the bud, once, twice, and slower the third time, before he’s grazing his teeth over it again. His fingers dig into Seonghwa’s waist, anchoring him in his lap as he grinds his hips upwards.

Seonghwa moans, feeling the outline of Hongjoong’s half hard cock through his jeans against his ass and he almost sobs with joy that this is actually happening.

Since Hongjoong is down one arm, Seonghwa pushes up onto his knees so that Hongjoong’s back is pressed into the cushion and the taller man is hovering over him. The club owner cranes his head back with Seonghwa’s movement so he can keep his lips attached to Seonghwa’s chest, sucking aggressively, and his hand drops from Seonghwa’s bare waist to palm at his ass.

Hongjoong’s third and fourth fingers stroke over Seonghwa’s clothed entrance and Seonghwa whimpers at the pressure, mouth salivating at the thought of his husband’s thick fingers breaching his rim. 

“O-Oh my God, get your fingers inside me now,” Seonghwa is (un)shamefully already hard as fuck in his underwear, overwhelmed with the fact that he and Hongjoong, his best friend, first love, his husband, are finally going to be intimate.

“I don’t have lube in here,” Hongjoong says so innocently when he pulls away from Seonghwa’s chest. An obscene string of saliva connects from his swollen lower lip to Seonghwa’s nipple and the director is going to fucking ruin Hongjoong.

“You have spit,” Seonghwa states the obvious and slams a hand on the cushions behind Hongjoong’s head. He takes Hongjoong’s good hand from where it’s rubbing his ass and maneuvers his hand to thrust his pointer and third finger into the brunette’s own mouth. He watches intently as Hongjoong’s lips enclose around his two fingers to suck.

While Hongjoong coats his fingers in his mouth, Seonghwa slides out of his lap to the floor, where he nudges the brunette’s legs open. He gets comfortable in between Hongjoong’s knees and works on popping open the button of his jeans so Hongjoong can shimmy out of his pants and underwear.

Normally, Seonghwa would be happy to tease him: lick at the outline of his cock in his underwear, palm and cup his balls, and trail a teasing finger down his perineum. But Seonghwa needs Hongjoong carnally, like yesterday, or six years ago, so the director hooks his fingers into the waistband of his husband’s jeans and yanks everything down at once.

Hongjoong is big. Well, he’s no mega cock dildo. But Seonghwa has seen enough dicks from all the men Hongjoong has sent over plus from adult entertainment videos, and the raven haired man can confidently say that Hongjoong’s cock is the nicest and girthiest.

And Seonghwa is totally not being biased.

When Seonghwa lifts his hands to wrap them around Hongjoong’s cock, one hand on top of the other, the head of the owner’s cock still peeks out from the length of both of Seonghwa’s hands. The raven haired man leans forward and gives the tip a kitten lick, just to taste for the first time, and Hongjoong moans in response.

The taste of Hongjoong’s precum on his tongue is immediately addicting to Seonghwa as his kitten licks become bolder, heavier, and more aggressive. He laps at the length of Hongjoong’s cock, licking the underside from base to head, then again, and then suckles at the tip to then sink his mouth down.

He hollows his cheeks and rounds his lips over his teeth to make the slide easier as he bobs his head up and down, up and down, the whole time trying to get further until he can feel Hongjoong hit the back of his throat. His saliva starts to drip down and Seonghwa uses his hands to gather it up and moves the grip of his hands in time with his mouth.

“Holy— fuck,” Hongjoong curses as Seonghwa maintains his speed. 

Seonghwa, having never done this before with a real cock (re: freaky virgin), is obsessed already. Hongjoong’s moaning nonsense above him and that only fuels Seonghwa’s libido as he continues to give his husband a blowjob.

Seonghwa likes to switch it up: to coordinate his breathing, he’ll pause at the tip of Hongjoong’s cock to dip his tongue into the head while applying pressure with his hands to keep up the stroking motions. Then, when he’s caught his breath, he’ll sink back down until his nose touches Hongjoong’s abdomen, right below his navel.

He starts to get the hang of breathing through his nose while incorporating his tongue. He finds that he can open his throat wider to accommodate more of Hongjoong’s length when he presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock.

“You can pull my hair,” Seonghwa says when he pulls off, his voice slightly hoarse and one hand still grips the base of Hongjoong’s cock. He doesn’t wait for Hongjoong’s reaction before he grabs Hongjoong’s good hand.

Hongjoong’s fingers are coated in his own spit and Seonghwa remembers his intentions with that. The raven haired man shoves Hongjoong’s wet digits into his mouth and sucks on them like he did with the brunette’s cock. He holds eye contact with his husband, whose entire face is flushed red with arousal.

“What the— w-what the fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says brokenly as Seonghwa continues jack him off with one hand and lewdly keeps Hongjoong’s fingers in his mouth to suck on them. “Shit, I’m—”

Seonghwa panics and ceases his stroking to grasp the base of Hongjoong’s cock while he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop!’, “you can’t cum. If your first time orgasming isn’t rearranging my guts then I’ll really have to add you to the spanking list.”

Hongjoong’s eyes squeeze shut and he looks like he’s in pain. “Then you need to stop doing all of… This,” Hongjoong vaguely waves his hand in front of Seonghwa.

Seonghwa gives his husband a deadpan look, “you just gestured to all of me.”

Hongjoong sighs exasperatedly, “yes! Exactly. You’re too sexy, and I’m a fucking virgin.”

“So am I,” Seonghwa says like it’s no big deal. “I can’t wait for us to sixty-nine. Tie each other up, use that lace blindfold, or that kunai I just sharpened, and the double ended dildo—”

“Baby,” Hongjoong grits out and runs a hand through Seonghwa’s ebony locks with his good hand, his cock still hard in between them. Seonghwa whines at the pet name and reaches for his dick again, but when he moves to kiss it Hongjoong yanks his hair up and away. “Motherfucker, Seonghwa, I mean it. Your filthy mouth is pushing me to the edge and if you touch me, I’m gonna cum.”

Seonghwa lets out a loud moan at the painful yet delicious sensation of his hair being pulled. He instinctively squeezes Hongjoong’s cock in his hands as he looks up at his husband through hooded eyes, “you can pull harder.”

Hongjoong’s expression twists and he shudders, and then ropes of white hit Seonghwa’s face. It hangs off his eyelashes and some of it slides down the backs of Seonghwa’s knuckles as his palms are still enclosed around the base of the brunette’s dick. 

Seonghwa blinks through the cum, stunned. “Did you just…?”

Hongjoong releases his hair and embarrassedly slumps back against the sofa cushions. “Oh my fucking God...”

Seonghwa wipes the cum out of his eye and immediately shoves it into his mouth. It’s bitter, salty, and borderline unpleasant, but to Seonghwa it’s addicting and he wants more. He leans down to lap up the cum around Hongjoong’s softening cock, and trails his tongue around the brunette’s balls along the way.

When he’s gathered it into his mouth, he grabs Hongjoong’s good hand to spit a mixture of his saliva and cum onto the club owner’s fingers.

“Cum is lube, too,” Seonghwa states brazenly.

Hongjoong watches dumbly as Seonghwa takes off his belt and undoes the button of his pants. “I can’t—”

“Then I’ll cockwarm you until you can,” Seonghwa declares and stands to push down his pants.

He keeps his designer, white Venetian lace underwear on, his arousal straining against the fabric, and Hongjoong’s eyes bulge out of his head at the sight. Then the brunette’s eyes shift to the stiletto dagger strapped to Seonghwa’s upper thigh with another velvet band.

Seonghwa follows his gaze and giggles, “oops. Never show up to a negotiation unarmed, Joongie.”

“You’re not gonna use that on me, are you?” Hongjoong asks nervously though his cock twitches in interest. Seonghwa doesn’t miss it, already anticipating and planning out everything he wants to do to his husband on this L-shaped couch.

“I don’t have to,” Seonghwa purrs and wrenches the dagger out of the strap to expertly flip it. He tosses it up in the air so it spins four full rotations before he catches the handle easily, then twirls the dagger over the back of his hand before gripping it in his palm again. He puts the tip of the stiletto dagger to his sternum and slowly drags it down the middle of his chest.

There’s not enough force to pierce skin, but the dagger tip leaves a faint white line in its wake along Seonghwa’s honeyed skin before the raven haired main flips it up again to pinch the needle-like pointed tip of the dagger between his fingers. He holds the handle out to Hongjoong and winks, “you can use it on me though. I’ll let you play rough.”

Hongjoong’s chubbed up to half mast after Seonghwa’s fancy display of dagger twirling and he’s slack jawed as he stares at his husband, “I’m married to a succubus.”

“An incubus,” Seonghwa corrects and moves to straddle Hongjoong’s lap again, now naked save for his underwear. He sets the dagger aside when Hongjoong doesn’t take it and grabs the club owner’s saliva-and-cum slicked fingers.

Seonghwa reaches behind himself to tug the back of his underwear away from his ass and guides Hongjoong’s fingers to his exposed entrance.

“Fuck, Hwa,” Hongjoong moans when his index finger slips past the ring of muscle to the first knuckle and Seonghwa whimpers in response. Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s hand in his and his husband slides the rest of his finger into his entrance.

Seonghwa clenches at the intrusion and arches into it, his chest pressing against Hongjoong’s when the brunette takes his finger out and then the pads of his index and third fingers tap at Seonghwa’s rim.

Hongjoong pushes both fingers in and Seonghwa’s forehead drops to Hongjoong’s and his hands come up to grip the fabric of Hongjoong’s shirt as he whines at the sensation: Seonghwa’s never had anyone else’s fingers before, only his own or some toys to prep, and for the first time when pleasuring himself, the raven haired man feels a bit… Emotional.

It’s probably all the intense feelings of love and lust he’s harboured for Hongjoong boiling over.

The shorter man kisses Seonghwa’s shoulder as he scissors his fingers open to stretch Seonghwa more and slides the digits in and out of his entrance. “You’re so tight,” Hongjoong growls though his fingers glide into Seonghwa smoothly due to the saliva and cum.

“Add a third,” Seonghwa pants and shoves his hands underneath Hongjoong’s shirt to cup his pectorals, fingernails digging into the hard muscle there as Hongjoong pumps three of his fingers into him. “O-Oh my God, faster.”

Hongjoong does as told and begins to piston his three fingers into Seonghwa’s hole, maintaining a steady but unforgiving rhythm as Seonghwa moans loudly. Due to the force of Hongjoong fingering him, his neglected cock in his underwear brushes against Hongjoong’s abdomen with every thrust and sends a spark of immense pleasure down Seonghwa’s spine.

Hongjoong’s fingers feel fat and hot inside of him, stretching him impossibly wide, and with Hongjoong’s musical abilities Seonghwa knows he has the stamina to keep this rhythm and pace. God, he could probably cum from the brunette’s fingers alone when Hongjoong lurches forward to suck a hickey into the column of Seonghwa’s neck.

“Ah,” Seonghwa whines when Hongjoong nips at his jugular, right hand pumping into him.

The club owner pauses and removes his hand from Seonghwa’s ass, spits on his fingers to reslick them, and is back to thrusting the digits into Seonghwa’s entrance all in a span of five seconds. He lowers his face to Seonghwa’s chest to swirl his tongue around his nipple again.

“I-I wish you had both hands,” slips out of Seonghwa’s mouth in a breathless moan, his cock leaking and begging to be touched. He wants to experience Hongjoong’s boasted ambidexterity and the director’s thumb, hands still under Hongjoong’s shirt, accidentally swipes over the bandages on Hongjoong’s clavicle, where his wound is.

Hongjoong hisses in pain but it only seems to fuel him as he takes his fingers out and uses his hand to throw Seonghwa to the side on the sofa and off his lap. Seonghwa falls on his back on the sofa seat cushions and Hongjoong is in between his legs in the next second.

“I don’t need both hands,” Hongjoong says and taps Seonghwa’s thigh with his knuckles, “hold your knee to your chest for me, baby, hips up.”

Seonghwa immediately brings his knees up to chest and mewls in surprise when Hongjoong takes one of his legs and tosses it over his shoulder to raise his hips up and off the cushions. Hongjoong uses his good hand to yank Seonghwa’s underwear down and off of one leg, the fabric now hanging pathetically off of the director’s foot as it dangles over Hongjoong’s unbandaged shoulder.

He’s fully exposed to his husband and Seonghwa almost feels shy. Except that shy feeling doesn’t last when Hongjoong wraps his right hand around Seonghwa’s erection and begins to jerk him off, hard and fast.

Hongjoong strokes him like he was fingering him: steady and in rhythm. Occasionally, he’ll squeeze around the head of Seonghwa’s cock to offset the pace, but then he falls back into that sensual, quick tempo.

The moans tumble out of Seonghwa’s mouth and only amplify in volume when Hongjoong dives forward and plunges his tongue into the director’s rim. The brunette’s tongue breaches Seonghwa’s entrance, curling upwards to lick before Hongjoong latches his mouth onto his rim and sucks.

He alternates between licking, sucking, and fucking Seonghwa with his tongue, all while his good hand never relents on stroking his cock.

“Fuck, fuck,” Seonghwa sobs at the overwhelming sensations and his thighs tense, that familiar heat rising from the base of his spine to coil and pool in his lower belly. “Hongjoong-ah, o-oh my God—”

Hongjoong hums but doesn’t stop, jerking Seonghwa off in long strokes while wiggling his tongue into his hole.

“Hong— ah,” Seonghwa moans brokenly as that heat begins to unfurl, threatening to explode and Hongjoong hasn’t even put it in yet.

The club owner gives the base of Seonghwa’s erection a squeeze before sliding the taller man’s leg off his shoulder so he can readjust his position: he pushes Seonghwa’s hips into the sofa so that he can switch his hand for his mouth in each spot.

Hongjoong’s mouth now sinks down on Seonghwa’s cock while his good hand thrusts three fingers into his entrance and he picks up right where he left off. Hongjoong’s mouth is hot but not as tight as his hand, but his fingers reach further into Seonghwa than his tongue.

Hongjoong finger fucks his husband, the stretch so heavenly, while sucking his arousal and Seonghwa arches up into it as that ball of pleasure in his abdomen finally unwinds and has him trembling all over.

Seonghwa thinks he sees white, or maybe black, as his orgasm tears through him and he cums down Hongjoong’s throat, rim clenching around those three thick fingers. Hongjoong continues to pump his fingers into him until Seonghwa is crying in oversensitivity.

“Can you go more?” Hongjoong asks when he pulls off Seonghwa's cock and wipes at his mouth, all sorts of bodily fluids dripping obscenely down his chin.

Seonghwa’s chest is heaving and he glares at his husband, “of course I can, but fuck you.”

“What?” Hongjoong blinks at him in bewilderment. 

“It’s a crime that we haven’t fucked for the past six years,” Seonghwa scoffs and sits upright so that he can crawl over to Hongjoong. “We’re definitely using the spank paddle later, and you’ve been moved to the top of the list.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong agrees easily and lets Seonghwa reverse their positions so that he’s the one on his back on the sofa now. He winces when he feels something sharp poke at him and reaches behind himself to push the stiletto dagger further away.

Seonghwa straddles his husband for the third time and aligns their pelvises so he can guide the tip of Hongjoong’s cock to his stretched rim. The raven haired man’s mouth waters and his excitement is palpable when he feels the head brush against his entrance, one little push away from being sheathed inside.

He’s dreamed of this, fantasized about it for countless nights, and now he’s finally going to fuck Kim Hongjoong.

The head catches his rim and Seonghwa holds his breath before slowly sinking down. He moves his hands to Hongjoong’s hair as he descends, savouring the feeling of every inch that enters him.

“Hwa,” Hongjoong says in a strained voice, his good hand clutching Seonghwa’s hip.

“I could die on your cock,” Seonghwa moans once he’s fully seated, ass grazing Hongjoong’s upper thighs. He doesn’t start bouncing, and instead wiggles his hips around to experiment with the feeling of Hongjoong’s entire length inside of him. It feels amazing; Hongjoong is big enough that the stretch is divine, from how far he reaches inside Seonghwa to how Seonghwa’s rim takes him in. “Do you think I can make a customized dildo of your dick?”

“Why would you need to?” Hongjoong swallows, neck vein protruding as Seonghwa continues to sway his hips side-to-side instead of moving up and down. “You can use the real thing.”

“I don’t know, double penetration,” Seonghwa breathes and Hongjoong lets out a strangled moan when he lifts his hips a little bit and then sits back down. “Or I could fuck myself on the dildo while I give you a blowjob. Or you could fuck yourself on your own cock while I fuck myself on your cock. There are many possibilities here, Joongie.”

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” Hongjoong grits out and he plants his feet on the sofa to thrust his hips upwards into Seonghwa’s tight heat. “But right now, I need you to move.”

Seonghwa spreads his thighs on either side of Hongjoong’s hips and lifts himself up before slamming back down. Then, when he’s gotten used to the position and stretch, he starts to ride his husband with vigor.

This position wears out his thighs fast, but that doesn’t deter Seonghwa in the slightest. He continues to bounce on Hongjoong’s cock while the shorter man fists the director’s cock in his good hand. When Seonghwa lifts his hips and angles ever-so-slightly down before pushing back, Hongjoong’s cock hits that sweet spot inside of him that has him crying out in pleasure.

“Oh,” Seonghwa moans and Hongjoong seems to get the hint as he thrusts upwards in time with Seonghwa’s bounces. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around me,” Hongjoong whines as he jerks Seonghwa off, “I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay, we go again after,” Seonghwa pants and the ache in his thighs starts to become unbearable but the pleasure from Hongjoong’s cock overrides that burn as he slams his hips down erratically.

The slide is wet from Hongjoong’s saliva earlier and with every thrust there’s a vulgar squelching sound as Hongjoong’s cock drags along Seonghwa’s insides. Seonghwa’s entire body is on fire, nothing like he’s ever felt before with toys and videos as he struggles to form a coherent thought. His mind is consumed by the pleasure as Hongjoong strokes and fucks him.

“Fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong bites his lip as his own hips stutter, brows furrowed as he feels his balls tighten. His fingernails break the skin on Seonghwa’s hip, “fuck, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare pull out,” Seonghwa orders and chases his own orgasm as the tip of Hongjoong’s cock hits that bundle of nerves, over and over. “Cum inside, please—”

Seonghwa’s body quivers and he cums with a cry of Hongjoong’s name, painting his husband’s torso with white as he feels Hongjoong’s release coat his insides. It’s warm and gratifying and Seonghwa, thighs numb, still bounces up and down a few more times to ensure he’s milked Hongjoong of every last drop. Hongjoong groans, chanting Seonghwa’s name under his breath.

“S-Shit,” Hongjoong chuckles lowly and tries to get Seonghwa to stop moving, “Hwa, I’m— fuck, what are you doing?”

“Quick refractory period,” Seonghwa says and moves to bounce some more, his spent cock already twitching in Hongjoong’s limp hand. “Let’s do it again, but this time, I’ll do it in reverse so you can cum on my back.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hongjoong sighs and slaps his husband’s thigh. “Can we take a break first?”

Seonghwa pouts, “fine, two minutes. And then I want you either on your back so I can sit on your face or on your knees so I can fuck your face. We have a lot to do, Joongie-yah.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Hongjoong presses a kiss to Seonghwa’s sweaty forehead and then to his temple, his cheek, and finally, his lips. “What about post coital cuddles?”

Seonghwa hums, “that sounds nice, too. But you know what else sounds nice? Using this.” The director reaches out to the stiletto dagger discarded to the side of the sofa and holds it up proudly.

“Another time—” Hongjoong laughs when the door to the storage room flies open and slams into the wall with force.

Seonghwa yelps in surprise when Hongjoong rips the handwoven blanket draped over the back of the couch to haphazardly cover them both up and manages to cover their groins for the most part.

“Drop the sword!” Wooyoung screams into the room as he, Mingi, and Jongho burst in with their handguns pointed at the couple.

When they take in Seonghwa’s lack of clothing, Hongjoong’s lack of pants, the smell of sex in the room, and the blanket barely covering their compromising position, the three men click the safety back on their guns.

“What the fuck?!” Hongjoong yells at the younger men as Mingi and Jongho holster their guns and Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re just looking out for you!” Wooyoung defends. “Yooshin said he saw you two disappear in here. Then he found those divorce papers on the bar and admitted to me that he didn’t actually check Seonghwa hyung for weapons. And then we heard groaning!”

“Which we now know was actually moaning, not groaning,” Mingi supplies unhelpfully.

“We thought he may have lured you in here to kill you,” Jongho eyes the stiletto dagger in Seonghwa’s hand suspiciously.

“It’s a kink,” Seonghwa whistles and flips the dagger in his hand before playfully and sensually licking the blade. “Knife play.”

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho stare at the director’s tongue dumbly while Hongjoong wraps the blanket around his waist and covers Seonghwa up with his discarded clothing. “Alright, I’m fine, Hwa is fine. I’d appreciate it if you all stop ogling my husband, thanks.” The club owner flaps his good hand at his friends and employees to usher them out of the room.

“He’s the one licking daggers,” Mingi protests and as Wooyoung asks, “so you’re not getting a divorce?”

Seonghwa perks up at this question, heartbeat picking up anxiously.

Hongjoong cranes his head to give the raven haired man a soft smile before turning to the three men. “No, we’re not. Now if you’ll excuse us.” The brunette shoves the three younger men fully outside of the room before closing the door. He whirls around to find Seonghwa already bent over the back of the sofa, rummaging through the piles of jewellery.

His pert ass sticks out and his beautifully tanned skin, covered in a sheen of sweat, glistens in the light.

“Joongie, are you going to give me another star pendant?” Seonghwa inquires cutely, a crazy contrast to his toned, naked figure draped over the sofa. “I miss it dearly.”

“I can give it back to you,” Hongjoong struts up to his husband and bends down to press a kiss to the base of Seonghwa’s spine. He uses his good hand to spread the raven haired man’s ass to see his puckered entrance dripping with Hongjoong’s cum. The brunette hisses when he dips his fingers into it and pushes the cum back into Seonghwa’s fluttering hole. “I had the chain fixed.”

Seonghwa moans as he pushes back onto Hongjoong’s fingers, trying to take him down to the last knuckle. “I want a new one.”

“I’ll buy you as many as you want, holy shit,” Hongjoong gulps and thrusts his fingers into his husband’s tight heat.

Seonghwa sighs wistfully and flips around, Hongjoong’s fingers still inside him, to pull the brunette into a kiss. “I love you.”

Hongjoong quickly kisses the tip of his nose before connecting their lips again, smiling into the kiss, “I love you, too.”

⚜ Epilogue ⚜

Sungyong raises an eyebrow at the paper in front of him. “While I’m happy you two seem to be on good terms…” He regards the couple sitting across from him, Seonghwa perched directly on top of Hongjoong’s lap. “This isn’t what I expected. What made you change your mind, Hongjoong-ah?”

Hongjoong tries to look at his father-in-law around Seonghwa sitting on top of him, but the director doesn’t make it any easier as he contentedly plays with Hongjoong’s earrings. “Er, we talked it out. And realized that we love each other. We always have, there were just some misunderstandings here and there.”

“Alright,” Sungyong nods and scans the paper again. “So… You want to do a vow renewal? This looks like a wedding plan.”

“Yeah, since our first wedding was so rushed…”

Sungyong squints as he continues to read. “Okay, so new wedding rings. Makes sense, I guess… Are you sure you want Wooyoung-ssi to be both of your best men?”

“It was his only request.”

“And am I reading this right? Jongho-ssi as ‘ring bear’? As in, ring bearer?”

“No, what’s on there is correct,” Hongjoong says ruefully.

Sungyong gives the couple a baffled look and points further down. “You want Yeosang to print eight life size photos of Hongjoong? Why?”

“It’s for the fun and games after the ceremony,” Seonghwa answers.

“Why do you need eighty throwing daggers?”

Seonghwa repeats simply, “for fun and games. It’s an inside joke.”

“This is worrying me, because right underneath it says Mingi needs a motorcycle and Yunho and San need to be tied together by a BDSM expert.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong stare at Sungyong: Seonghwa’s expression is defiant and Hongjoong’s is sheepish. They provide no verbal explanation.

Sungyong sighs deeply, “alright, fuck it. I’m just glad I don’t have to process your divorce. I still don’t know what you could possibly mean by ‘ring bear’ though...”

“Thanks, Dad!” Seonghwa claps his hands in glee and stands, pulling Hongjoong up as well, who shuffles behind Seonghwa embarrassedly. “We have to go. Hongjoong is hard—ly paying attention anymore. See you at the wedding!”

And the two waddle out of the Park patriarch’s study, giggling into each other like teenagers.

⚜ FIN ⚜