Work Text:
"You're leaving."
A single sentence uttered, deceptively simple yet deeply profound, existed within the space between the both of them. Gunwook laid in bed, his presence a foreigner against the burgundy sheets crumpled underneath him. There were marks littering his skin—long scratches of faint sanguine etched into pale skin, dipped and raised along the smooth contours of his muscles, and parts of his body seemed to grow blossoms of deep blue-purple and red marked against a sickly green-yellow against an otherwise barren garden. Gunwook looked good—he always did—just simply laying there, his voice hoarse from the hours of lack of use, though Taerae could hypothesised that the overuse the night before contributed more to its scratchy quality.
"Yes," Taerae answered soon enough, eyes finally pulling away from Gunwook, in favour of checking his own reflection in the mirror situated not far away from where the bed was. Taerae was not faring better himself at all, bruises the shape of Gunwook's mouth, teeth, and hands imprinted on his skin and so glaringly apparent until Taerae finally pulled a thick hoodie over himself. No one would question the thick piece of clothing when they were entering a frigidly cold period of the year, where frost was only one bad move away from settling in. "I have work."
From behind Taerae, a scoff sounded. Considering there were only two of them in the room, it was quick to surmise that it had been Gunwook who'd been acting this flippant. And for what reason, Taerae could not comprehend. Not that he was trying to either way.
"I understand it's a foreign concept to you," Taerae added, finally turning to face Gunwook once again. He was no longer fully bare, the crumpled up dress shirt from yesterday haphazardly buttoned on. At least someone was perfectly fine with looking a mess.
"But normal people, like me, have to go work."
"I literally do. I go to work every weekday too, like you-"
"Being an intern at your mother's law firm doesn't count, Gunwook," Taerae replied almost immediately. A sick part of him marvelled at the way his words, with all the bite, had an effect on Gunwook—the younger man flinched in response, large eyes staring at Taerae in disbelief whilst his large mouth stayed pursed shut.
Taerae knew it was a low blow, though he believed it was justified. How else was he supposed to show his annoyance at having his nightly routine upended by Gunwook? Worse, Gunwook showed up unceremoniously stumbling through the door, reeking of too much booze and cigarette smoke from a party he'd never agree to attend, a rancid stench of a woman's perfume clinging to the collar of his neatly pressed shirt, rouge smeared against the sharp crease where Gunwook would never have noticed. Taerae made it a point to ruin the shirt in all of its perfection, sinking claws deep into the fibres until they creased and crumpled exactly according to his will.
An even sicker part of him liked that Gunwook looked a mess. Completely ruffled up by a hurricane named Kim Taerae, ravenous in his path, destruction where his hands and mouth would land on Gunwook's. That'd teach him to show up to his place ever again like this.
Taerae moved to pull a pair of baggy jeans over his legs, the waistband hung low on his hips. It's a familiar piece, and one he knew matched with someone else—not that it mattered much anymore.
"You know the way out," Taerae spoke, the pockets of silence only ever filled with his own voice. "Remember to make sure the door's locked before you go."
Taerae did not wait for Gunwook's response—whether it'd have been a rebuttal, a justification, or a simple mere request, Taerae wouldn't have known—for he left, with no desire of remaining within the walls he called his home.
It was not always like this.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
Taerae's not sure when, but he felt cold somewhere in the middle of the night. The cool air from the air conditioner felt frigid against his bare skin. It was not uncommon for that to happen, with his tendency to kick away his blanket in the middle of the night when he would get too warm. He was only half-awake, hand blindly grappling around his bed to look for the discarded blanket.
"Hyung," a voice sounded, the single syllable between a whine and a grumble. Taerae felt Gunwook's arm circling around him, dragging him closer, and—oh.
There was where his blanket went, wrapped comfortably around Gunwook who slept more peacefully than he did. But Gunwook was not selfish at all, lifting the blanket and inviting Taerae within the toasty warmth. The gesture alone is enough to make Taerae smile softly to himself. The relief from the cold room, too, was gentle and welcome, as he leaned into the warmth, his body now pressed into the space between Gunwook's embrace, almost as if a Taerae-shaped gap was made just for him and fell back asleep.
Morning came just as gently for Taerae, with soft kisses peppered along his bare arm. The gentle actions, laced with nothing but affection, was enough for Taerae to slowly stir awake, but not enough for him to open his eyes. All Taerae did was whine softly in response, cheek pressing against Gunwook's arm underneath him with a faint sigh.
"Gunwook-ah," Taerae called out softly. "What time is it?"
Gunwook did not answer. At least, not verbally, as his hand eventually found home on Taerae's waist, causing him to flinch just subtly at the sudden contact. Gunwook murmured a soft apology, but pointedly continued to ignore Taerae's question, his lips now too preoccupied with pressing more kisses to Taerae's arm. It was difficult, somewhat, for Taerae to garner enough will and energy to finally blink bleary eyes open before his hand immediately flew to Gunwook's face, placing his hand over Gunwook's mouth just in time to stop the next kiss against his arm. Gunwook looked at him, subtly sheepish, but seemingly more satisfied than he was embarrassed.
"I have a feeling you're actively trying to sabotage me at my job by making me late," Taerae declared, perhaps all too dramatically. Gunwook's laughter soon sounded, muffled against Taerae's palm, warmth and ticklish that rendered Taerae no choice but to withdraw the hand stopping Gunwook from kissing him anymore.
Freshly triumphant and completely enamoured, Gunwook had claimed his prize for winning the little game with a stolen kiss square on Taerae's lips, causing him to laugh in disbelief in return.
"Is it really sabotage, hyung? You seemed to enjoy the kisses," Gunwook pointed out. "Even in your sleep, you whined when I stopped kissing you. Am I supposed to somehow deny the one I love of kisses and everything else he asks for, even in his sleep?"
If Taerae could separate himself into his conscious and unconscious states, the conscious side of him would have smacked himself on the head without a single ounce of hesitation.
"Wook-ah. Be serious."
"I am serious, hyung. But fine, let's go get ready for work now…" Gunwook grumbled, on his face a dejected pout. Although Taerae would usually go against kisses on the mouth of any kind before they freshened up for the morning (Taerae would settle his score with Gunwook about the quick kiss earlier on), he still leaned forward either way, pressing a kiss on the pout with a light laugh.
"Let's go, you big baby. We have the whole of the evening and tonight to do whatever you want, so let's just get past the rest of the day, okay?"
The kiss, coupled with Taerae's promise, seemed adequate enough for Gunwook to end up smiling brightly, neat rows of teeth on display, as he nodded a few times.
"Okay, hyung. Whatever you say."
Taerae laughed, hopelessly in love with the giant puppy he had as a boyfriend.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
The keyword here was 'had'.
Taerae had a boyfriend. Taerae had loved Gunwook once upon a long time ago.
"You're heartless."
"That's not very nice words to say to someone when you're buried deep in them," Taerae breathed, voice shaky and lacking the usual bite it possessed when he tended to be more guarded. It was hard to focus on anything else when it felt as if Gunwook was splitting him apart. He always felt so good, even back then, but perhaps especially now when he had the young man pinned down onto the bed with Taerae's hands pressing down onto Gunwook's biceps.
It was thrilling, even more so, when Gunwook twitched deep within the tightness of his walls the more Taerae's fingers sunk into the muscular flesh, bunched up and contorted, definitely closer to hurting Gunwook than it was making him comfortable. Taerae knew, with certainty, that if Gunwook decided to do so, he would be able to easily overpower Taerae and pin him down instead. Yet, there he was, laying so pliant underneath Taerae, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to Gunwook—whether it was to allow his words to bite into the man's fragile heart, or to seek pleasure for himself with little to no regard for Gunwook's own. What did that say about Gunwook?
"Besides," Taerae began, teeth sinking onto his lower lip as he lifted his hips, marvelling in the drag of Gunwook's length leaving him, and slammed his hips back down, pulling a choked groan from the man behind him. Their voices still sounded pretty together as they always did, one a moan, the other a groan—once a sweet melody, now a twisted one that was somehow that much more exhilarating.
"You're the one who keeps coming back to me."
Taerae never allowed Gunwook to have the final say. He continued to move his hips with equal parts practised grace and sadistic impulsion. Even through his heavy breaths and the stuttering of his own hips, Taerae worked hard to ensure that Gunwook would not be able to say anything, simply melting into a mere puddle underneath Taerae. It did not take long for poor Gunwook, so large and so sensitive, to near his peak.
Taerae could tell easily. It was not hard to, not when Gunwook's hips seemed to stutter upwards, as his moans grew sharper in pitch, and he sounded a little more whiny each time Taerae would slam his hips back down. The air around them felt feverishly hot, affecting not just Gunwook, but Taerae, too—but he was determined as ever to make Gunwook suffer. It was just too bad for the younger man.
"Say it, Gunwook. Admit it," Taerae demanded, hips grinding into a complete halt right before Gunwook would tip over the edge, and right after he sank down completely on Gunwook's length, the corners of his lips curled into a small smirk. There's a shiny quality to the eyes that looked up at Taerae, riddled with disbelief and—most importantly of all—the desperation of a man who wanted so badly to release. To be granted what only Taerae could give him.
Unfortunately for Gunwook, Taerae was only willing to mete out as Gunwook's sweet reward if he chose to speak the truth.
"Hyung, please-" Soft begs were only eclipsed by Taerae's laugh, sharp and biting, as he stubbornly shook his head, rolling his hips down, to tease Gunwook even more, pulling out a whimper from the man underneath him. Taerae felt Gunwook's muscles tensing up underneath the unforgiving grip of his hands, too, clearly a show case of the man's struggle to stay put. To behave.
But yet, that was exactly what Gunwook was doing, wasn't he?
"Always so good for me, and yet you can't admit the truth, Gunwook-ah?" Taerae asked, almost breathless. He took the risk to move one hand away from Gunwook's arm in favour of gripping his cheeks, squishing the soft flesh between his hand to demand for Gunwook to look at him—and only at him. The one person that Gunwook could not help but return to.
Gunwook's not even capable of speaking anymore, constantly denied and edged all at the very same time just because Taerae knew what set the man off and what didn't, his body so attuned to Gunwook's own, like two halves of a heart. Except they weren't, and Taerae was seeking revenge on his own, fuelled by the cries that left Gunwook as he blabbered pleas from between reddened lips, parting and closing with each beg. It wasn't what Taerae wanted to hear, his heart hardening despite the tears that slipped past Gunwook's eyes, staining the tips of Taerae's fingers as they trickled down his cheeks.
"Tell me," Taerae whispered, moving his hips once more, each slide of Gunwook's length deep within Taerae more delicious than the next, faint groans slipping past his parted lips as well. "You can't live without me."
Gunwook's hand flew to Taerae's wrist, fingers gripping tightly around it yet only managing to tug weakly. Taerae's eyes flitted towards their hands. Gunwook's knuckles were flushed white from the exertion, eclipsing Taerae's wrist—there's a distant past where the hand that held onto his was gentle and warm, soft and riddled with affection. Somewhere along the line, this became more familiar, Taerae's eyes lifted to soon meet Gunwook's gaze, eyes reddened and filled with tears that had yet to fall.
"I can't… I can't," Gunwook hiccuped. Taerae hummed, beginning to grind downwards, pulling a pained cry from Gunwook's lips.
"Properly, Gunwook-ah."
"I can't live without you!"
Taerae's somewhat satisfied now, breathing out a soft laugh before he moved his hand away from Gunwook's cheeks, gripping onto the man's shoulders this time around to serve as a leverage, lifting his hips and sinking right down again, and again, and again. Moans easily spilled from between both their lips, intermingled with the heat of the room. It did not take too long for Gunwook to reach his orgasm from how pent up Taerae forced him to be, easily spilling into him. Taerae was not much further himself, fingers wrapped around his own length to eventually stroke himself into completion, spilling onto Gunwook's body and between the gasps of his own fingers.
Although Taerae ached to lay down, his body aching and trembling as he slowly came down from his high, he did not, and instead lifted his hips up, allowing Gunwook to slide out of him. His ears pricked at the sound of a faint sob, followed by choked sniffles. Did Gunwook turn too sensitive? Worry temporarily washed over him, hand reaching out to wipe Gunwook's tears away.
"Are you alright-"
"Go away," Gunwook spat, pushing Taerae's hand aside. "Leave."
"Gunwook-"
"Clean up and leave. Don't ever come back again."
When Gunwook quickly pushed himself up, Taerae felt as if air was knocked right out of his lungs, bringing Taerae along with the sudden action until he inevitably lost his balance and toppled to the bed. Red hot anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill right over, but Taerae tamped it down, letting out a faint huff as he quickly gathered his clothing scattered onto the bed and on the ground.
It's all a blur.
Taerae only managed to clean his hand and put his clothes on before Gunwook, still very much bare, had begun to more or less shove Taerae through the too-large apartment, down the hallways, and eventually right out of the door that slammed shut right in front of his face, shoes lay haphazardly beside his bare feet that felt cold against the marbled floor, clothes unkempt and his hair a mess.
A scoff. And then laughter, out of sheer disbelief of having been kicked out, before even that died down, leaving Taerae to stare at the door silently. Once familiar enough for Taerae to be able to key the PIN against a keypad he had grown too used to, now a foreign slab of wood designed to keep him out, and away from Gunwook. The dull ache in his chest was palpable.
"You're heartless."
Those words seemed to loop in Taerae's head in a cycle that seemed to have no end, each echo of Gunwook's words somehow carving a bigger hole into his chest. Odd, really. He's not supposed to feel like that. He tamped it all down again, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat as he slipped his feet into the shoes and turned to walk away.
The keyword here was still 'had'.
Taerae's just about had it.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
The first few cracks always tended to be easy to miss.
Too many expectations. Too many differences. There's too little time spent together. Too little in common with one another to keep crossing the precariously built bridge between the both of them. Each footstep was meant to bring them closer, except the knowledge that the bricks that made up the foundations of the bridge between the both of them was cracking right underneath each and every step taken went entirely amiss.
"Hyung, are you listening to me?"
Gunwook's tone was soft. Yet, there a barely veiled tinge of annoyance at the very end of his words.
"I am, Wook-ah. I'm just tired." Taerae must have started spacing out somewhere in between their conversation to warrant Gunwook's question. Did he fall asleep somewhere between Gunwook's recount of today's events?
There was always this divide between the both of them, after all. One Taerae wasn't sure he could quite breach, when he had first entered the working world upon graduation, whilst Gunwook remained in university and continued pursuing his law degree. His time seemed thinly spread, hours dragging on, days blending into one messy lump because of work, but there was always Gunwook to return to—first a resting space, and next, something somewhat closer to a weight he could not quite carry on his back.
So of course, Taerae did feel bad. He always did, around Gunwook, when happiness seemed to dim into something not far from sheer disappointment every time they spent time together.
"You never listen to me anymore." This time, Gunwook sounded hurt. It's a far cry from what Taerae wished for him to be, especially when all he ever wanted for Gunwook was for the younger man to be happy.
"I'm sorry, Wook-ah," Taerae whispered in return, one hand gently rubbing against Gunwook's arm, all as he offered a soft smile. "Let's talk when I'm less tired, okay?"
"It's okay." Taerae felt Gunwook shift away alongside his response. There's a smile on Gunwook's face, but Taerae could easily spot just how much that smile was so far from genuine, yet remained entirely powerless to change that expression. It's frustrating. Taerae's frustrated.
"Good night hyung, let's have a good night's sleep."
With a flick of a switch, Gunwook easily plunged the room into darkness. Although Taerae laid close to Gunwook, it felt as if they were worlds away. The bricks cracked just a little bit more within the joints with the blow of the turbulent winds.
Taerae's unsure just how long the bridge would last.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
Gunwook's return was akin to a heavy thunderstorm.
Each knock on the door that rained down boomed like loud thunder, startling Taerae and breaking him out of his dazed state. It was the end of another long day, but at the very least, it was a Friday. Taerae was lucky enough to escape the storm before it would rain down mercilessly on him and ruin the first evening of his weekend, but it seemed that the weather had found a way to Taerae's doorstep with the man being none the wiser.
Perhaps, Taerae should have checked when the intercom before opening the door.
"You… finally answered the door."
"Am I obligated to do so?"
Gunwook's features hardened into a subtle frown. The purse of his lips, coupled with the subtle furrow of his brows, was a clear indication of Taerae getting under his skin. It was just like Gunwook to wear his heart on his sleeve, every expression a clear indication of the emotions that he felt deep within. Or perhaps, Taerae had been too attuned to the man after all this time. Even after all this time.
There's also something a little different about Gunwook today. He's soaked to the bones, clearly not having the same luck as Taerae had when it came to avoiding the storm. He was caught right in the middle of it all, hair dripping with the rain that soaked through the strands, shivering.
Taerae would be unscrupulous if he rejected Gunwook at the door.
"Come in," he spoke, offering Gunwook one last glance over before he turned to step further into his own apartment. He did not bother to check if Gunwook entered after the invitation, and instead shifted his focus to step into the bathroom just a small distance away to grab a piece of towel before throwing it towards Gunwook, who—predictably—caught it either way. Gunwook's athleticism was always something to marvel about even as they grew older, maintained by the gym sessions he knew Gunwook still religiously went to despite how busy his schedule was.
When Taerae thought about it, nothing much between the both of them changed at all. The only thing that did was this awkwardly positioned relationship that they had between the both of them, twisted and warped through the bad decisions they've made to get here. And yet, there was a question that still begged to be asked, lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"What brought you here?" Taerae asked, gaze shifting away as he took the few steps towards the couch, settling on it after. "So, I can't go to your place ever again, but somehow, you're allowed to come to mine?"
"Don't-" Gunwook began, voice a little louder than his usual—and perhaps Gunwook noticed it too, for he cut himself short, clearing his throat as he used the towel to dry his hair. "Don't start, hyung. You know you were wrong back then."
"Was I? Or was I just speaking the truth, and you simply couldn't handle that?"
Gunwook moved fast. He always did, with decisive footsteps that led him closer to Taerae, just as they were equally as decisive in the past. Taerae easily felt the weight of Gunwook pressing into the couch, two hands rested right at the backrest and beside Taerae's head. From this position, Gunwook easily towered over Taerae even more so—it was frustrating, then, for Taerae to need to lift his head just to look at Gunwook.
"You didn't have to be so mean about it," Gunwook whispered.
"You said it yourself, Gunwook. I'm heartless. And you want me to be nice to you? To not force you to admit something you've been vehemently denying all this while?" Taerae spat.
So much for a relaxing Friday evening—everything seemed to topple down the moment the first thunderous knock crackled down on his door, and they were now in the rubble, somehow still trying to work through the debris of a destroyed relationship. A complicated one, because who in their right mind would continue to engage with their ex-boyfriend the way Gunwook and Taerae did?
"You know I didn't mean that!" Gunwook exclaimed. The plush surface of the backrest only compressed further with the tightening of Gunwook's hand as the man grew more worked up. Taerae did not move an inch, despite registering this change in emotion, because Gunwook was simply too predictable—in a moment later, he would do exactly as Taerae believed he would: calm down, realise that he's overreacting, and apologise.
"… Can I make it up to you, somehow?"
Taerae knew Gunwook too well.
It's why he knew that his crazy demand would be answered.
"Sleep with me again, then."
Gunwook predictably relented.
A clash of lips and tongue that still fit together. Bodies that were supposed to know others acquainted together like they had never once been parted, even if Taerae and Gunwook knew fully well just how many times they did. Conflict only bred desire within Taerae, ever so eager to break Gunwook down, to dismantle every single bit of Gunwook that made the younger appear as this free-spirited young man when all he had been was a man helplessly shackled to the man he once loved—or still loves—because no one would grip at Taerae's waist like their life depended on it the way Gunwook did. And no one would cause Taerae's soft breaths to turn into heavier moans as their bodies united once more, as Gunwook eagerly delved into the deepest depths of whatever Taerae was willing to show him, as Gunwook desperately claimed Taerae as his own even if they've long since gone their separate ways.
The torrential thunderstorm soon calmed down and left only the aftermath to deal with. Somewhere between their messy reunion, they had migrated to the bed, bodies sporting marks that were previously not there. Taerae had not bothered to check the aftermath of it all, wary of what his reflection would tell him if he were to look too long, and resolved to simply laying in bed after haphazardly grabbing a bunch of wipes to clean whatever he could access. Beside him, Gunwook was already asleep—or at least, Taerae assumed as such—with what limited information he possessed. He was quiet with his back turned to face Taerae, blanket draped across his waist which served as a poor cover for the aftermath of their sleeping together. Long scratch marks populated Gunwook's back, a bruise already forming on his shoulder from when Taerae had bit down.
In a sense, Taerae liked that Gunwook ended up just the same as he did. It at least made everything feel less crazy than it actually was. Taerae soon binned the wipes, sinking back into the bed, with no blanket draped over him, and no Gunwook that'll invite him within the warmth of a blanket he stole.
Tonight would be a long night.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
Some things tended to be lost to the passage of time. The first time someone walked. The first time someone spoke their first word. It all tended to blur into an incomprehensible mess, one birthed from the fact that these things ended up becoming activities people did every single day without fail. It was to be expected—when something became the norm, the first time everything shifted would soon blur within the threads of seconds, of days, weeks, months, years, and of forever. Taerae and Gunwook's breakup was poignant, but not for long. Taerae would forget about it the same way Gunwook would, after leaving a mark in each other's life until the absence would be as familiar as its presence, and even more so.
Taerae and Gunwook had an end point. Taerae knew how long it had been exactly since then.
Three months and two days since their breakup, Gunwook showed up at Taerae's apartment with tears in his eyes and the smell of booze in his breath.
Three months and two days after having not talked to each other, Gunwook pressed his lips onto Taerae's, begging for a normalcy that did not belong to them anymore. It was rushed because somewhere in both their hearts, they knew that this, too, was simply on borrowed time they did not have. Taerae should not have leaned into the kiss as easy as it was to breathe, and Gunwook should not have begged for another night together.
Gunwook's heart was broken, the young man would justify. That the gap that once homed his heart could only be filled with the man he first pulled away from.
"You're drunk," Taerae said softly. He forcibly pulled away, one hand pressed against Gunwook's chest to keep the man apart from himself. The rapid beating of Gunwook's heart was evident against Taerae's palm, and briefly, Taerae wondered if Gunwook's heart could ever continue to be Taerae's. It's selfish thinking, a thought that should have been thrown to the ground and stomped flat and dead, but it was a persistent parasite, latching onto Taerae without his knowing.
His hand on Gunwook's chest lost bits of the pressure. Just enough to allow Gunwook to allow himself to press closer if he so chose to. "Too drunk. Sober up and we can talk about this."
Gunwook refused the latter. "I did not drink more than I know I can handle, hyung. Just, please-" He pleaded, hand clutching tightly onto Taerae's, pressing Taerae's hand firmer onto his own chest.
"My heart still yearns for you, hyung. Nothing, no one, else compares."
When their lips met again, it was not because Taerae was moved by those words. The reason why he surged forward to allow their lips to meet was based solely on the fact that he did not want Gunwook to continue—to slip further and deeper into the mess Taerae knew was forming between them.
It was wrong of them.
At least, that was what Taerae believed to be the truth. Society always frowned upon those that seemed to never have clean breaks—it was too messy to navigate, too complicated to work around, that it should have failed. Yet, there they were, bodies falling into bed with one another like they never left. Gunwook's body still felt too familiar on, against, and around Taerae, so much so that it was as if he never left Taerae.
Gunwook made sure to rectify that by leaving the next morning without an explanation. Taerae's greeted only with a simple text message that Gunwook was thankful Taerae took care of him last night, despite his recklessness… and another message that Taerae should have deleted right away, before it had the opportunity to encroach deep within his heart.
We should do this again. I missed you.
It was just unfortunate that Taerae kept it close to his heart, instead.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
When Taerae had awoken, slivers of a gentle morning sun seeped between the gaps of where the blackout curtains were drawn and served as the only indication that it had been morning for Taerae. He moved to sit up in his bed, actions encumbered by the fatigue of mind and body that had gone through much more than they had rested. It was hard to ignore the dull, persistent ache in the small of his back, pronounced with movement. A quick glance to his side confirmed what he already knew—Gunwook was long gone from the bed, the younger man's weight no longer causing the bed to dip more than it would when only Taerae had been on it.
It was what's normal, either way. Taerae should not expect to see Gunwook still in his bed when it was late enough for the man to have woken up and gone home. All Taerae was glad for, now, was that it had been a Saturday morning. That Taerae could spend the entirety of his day, and the next, just recovering in his own lonesome until the tiring cycle of being a working adult would commence once again. It's tiring. It's all so tiring, that perhaps this thing with Gunwook, this messy, convoluted thing, was the only shot Taerae had at beating this mundane life of his.
Taerae slowly got off the bed, deciding that he should at least try to get washed up. Yet, when he moved to the door to push it open to head towards the bathroom just slightly down the hallway of his apartment, he was immediately met with an almost overwhelming aroma of… food. Food, in his place, when Taerae had not expected anyone but himself to be home.
With how small his apartment had been, it was not difficult to see the culprit that was making everything happen. Not that he needed to see who it was to know who it had been.
"Gunwook?" Taerae called out, face unable to hide his disbelief—from the raise of his eyebrows, the subtle widening of his eyes, and even the slight parting of his lips. There was a slight rasp to Taerae's voice, one he could not quite clear and attributed to having just woken up. Gunwook paused his bumbling about midway to look up for a split second, before his attention returned back to whatever it was he was doing in Taerae's kitchen, acting almost as if he owned that place. Taerae wasn't even sure where the apron Gunwook was using emerged from, considering it had been a while since Taerae's bothered using one that it must have been shoved to the back of one of the drawers ages ago.
This was abnormal.
"Hyung, you're up," Gunwook finally spoke in response, just as he ladled food into a bowl. When Taerae squinted from where he stood, it was made apparent to him that it was rice porridge, freshly cooked and piping hot. This bowl joined the table, already set up a plate of rolled eggs and a saucer filled with kimchi. It's a simple fare, but still, not what Taerae had expected at all.
No, what he expected was to enter his living room to be met with complete silence, the apartment devoid of anyone except for himself. Gunwook was supposed to be long gone, not dressed in an apron and preparing food Taerae never asked for, and acting like this was their normal when it had been far from. Taerae was frowning the entire time, taking a few steps towards the kitchen area whilst Gunwook was busy with removing the apron off of him after he'd been done cooking.
"And what are you doing here?" Taerae asked, quick to cut to the chase. There was no need to beat around the bush.
"Preparing breakfast?" And when Taerae looked at Gunwook like he grew another head, or two, he was quick to add, "You mentioned you didn't have dinner briefly too. So I thought it'd be good to prepare food for you for breakfast. Your stomach isn't in a good state the last I remember, so it isn't good to stay hungry-"
Taerae held a hand up then, effectively silencing Gunwook from continuing to say more. "You didn't need to. Didn't have to, either."
"I just thought it'd be something nice. I thought you liked the porridge I cooked?"
Taerae's frown only deepened at that. It was true, he did like the porridge Gunwook cooked, and perhaps, that was the problem of it all—he wasn't supposed to. The aroma of the freshly cooked porridge, along with the residual fragrance of freshly fried eggs should not have been enticing, but there Taerae was, tired, confused, hungry.
"No matter what I feel about it, you still did not need to. We're… not like that anymore. You don't need to cook just for me." You don't have to care. You shouldn't be.
Gunwook let out a small sigh at that, lips pursed into a frown the same time his brows furrowed together. Taerae wondered what was going through Gunwook's mind exactly to warrant his decision to cook for Taerae, all as Gunwook gently hooked the apron onto an empty hook—a hook that must have housed the apron that was once used heavily, then tucked away. Come to think of it, Taerae believed he had never been the one to wear it.
It had always been Gunwook. And now, here he was, acting almost as if he wanted to enter Taerae's life again, almost as if he was trying to introduce a new normal where he'd get a bowl of porridge from Gunwook on mornings where his stomach would be too upset to handle anything else beyond the bland, yet nourishing food. Almost as if they were still…
"Can't I care in the capacity as a friend? That's… what we are, right?" Gunwook asked. His words sounded restrained, barely mumbled through his teeth and barely moving lips.
"You don't have to, Gunwook."
"But I wanted to. I don't have to, I don't need to, but I want to."
Taerae sighed at that. He was fighting a losing battle, especially when faced with Gunwook—a man who was stubborn, very stubborn… much like Taerae himself. It was not a battle he was too keen on winning, though , in the silence that settled between them, uncomfortable more than it was comforting, Gunwook seemed to have come to a conclusion all by himself.
"It seems like I'm making you uncomfortable, hyung. I'll take my leave. Just remember to eat the food. It did nothing wrong," Gunwook said, already moving to leave before Taerae would manage to say a single word. The door shut quietly behind Gunwook, Taerae's tongue tied and unable to say the one thing he should have.
Stay. Stay, and we can have breakfast together.
Taerae ate alone.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
Most endings tended to be abrupt.
No one ever looked at something and began to prepare for its imminent end—not in the way Taerae did, not in the way he had already anticipated the day where it would all come crashing down.
Goodbyes tended to be painful. No one ever enjoyed parting without a definitive 'when' to their next meeting, nor did anyone enjoy the fact that each 'goodbye' only brought them closer to where their paths would soon diverge, meeting once, staying close, and then parting until there was no chances of meeting ever again.
When Gunwook sat Taerae down in the quiet of his apartment, far more spacious than Taerae's was, Taerae begun preparing for the true beginning of the end. By the time the first unresolved argument ensued between them, Taerae already expected this, and in his expectation, Tarae believed he would be able to handle this well.
It always started slowly. The two of them always orbited around one another in a slow, almost languid circle—from being a friend of friend, to friends, to that awkward in-between, and to their relationship with one another. It was always slow, cautious, almost as if they were both equally afraid of tipping over, of capsizing the boat if they were too rash. Too reckless. Taerae liked that, he loved how Gunwook would meet him in the middle the same way Taerae worked hard to do so, too. He was never meant to serve as a dead weight to Gunwook's brilliance, the dulling of his shine. Yet, in the space they now shared, with worry furrowing Gunwook's brows and a tension tightening his jaw, it was clear that Taerae had become exactly what he wished not to be.
Their breakup was meant to be slow, too. An increased distance between one another, lesser words shared with one another, lesser time. Taerae grew more tired with time, stretched thin and close to cracking from the pressures of work. Of loving Gunwook. Of simply living. Taerae expected it from miles away, and he believed himself capable to handle the brunt of it all, to have Gunwook sever the thread that precariously held them together. It would be slow, it would be gentle, and it would be as easy as Taerae taking his next breath of air.
"I don't think this… I don't think we're working out anymore, hyung."
When Gunwook hit the final nail into the coffin, Taerae had not expected for his emotions to hit him the way it did, akin to a surfer suddenly faced with a wave too big for them to handle, a large wave forcing him off balance, toppling from the surfboard, disorienting him and dragging him deep down into the water. Taerae did not even know what to do—when to resurface, to regain his wits about him, to answer.
Taerae's mute for a moment more. What was he to say? He was dumbstruck, unable to come up with proper words to properly articulate what he felt. And even if he did, did it matter? It was Gunwook he hurt, and it was Gunwook who initiated this. Taerae believed he was powerless through it all, but still could not help but ask—
"What do you want me to do?"
For the first time in what felt like forever, Gunwook's disbelief towards Taerae was not riddled with affection. It was, instead, filled with a frustration he could feel almost slip, if not for the way the younger man biting down physically on his lower lip to stop his frustration from slipping past him. Gunwook's shoulders raised in a deep inhale, and dropped as a soft puff of air left his lips. Taerae, however, felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe.
"Well, hyung, I can't tell you that. What do you want to do?"
Taerae didn't know. That was the problem, wasn't it? Even after working himself up to this point, Taerae still had not a single clue. In his head, he was meant to coolly tell Gunwook to just put an end to things, that he had already seen this coming from months ago. That just as they slowly fell into step with one another, they just as slowly slipped out of it, one a little faster than the other, one slow and lugging behind. But the ache in his chest was telling him otherwise—and Taerae could not help but cling onto the little what if's. That perhaps, somehow, all this time would be negated despite his lack of trying. That Gunwook would somehow be understanding through it all, even if it was awfully selfish of Taerae to expect so much from Gunwook.
"I don't know," Taerae admitted, voice softer than he wished for it to be. It was habit, then, that led Gunwook to bring his hand closer to Taerae's, where both of his hands were already clenched into tight fists against the worn denim of his jeans, but it was out of sheer force that Gunwook had withdrew his hand before it even neared Taerae's.
"Well," Gunwook spoke, his voice soft. "You're not the only one who can get tired too, hyung."
Taerae was not sure where to look by then. Not at Gunwook, because he felt as if he'd fully crack then, not at his hands, because he felt that they were simply a sorry reminder of how ill-prepared he actually was. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Taerae, his vision blurred halfway in, tears welling up in his eyes against his own will. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, nodding, unable to utter another word more, for he feared his voice would break. That he would break along with it, too.
And Gunwook, of course he noticed. Taerae felt the couch underneath them shift as Gunwook moved, before he felt the soft tissues pressed into his hands, tenderly by the younger man that was still so painfully perceptive throughout it all. That still cared, even if he was tired, unlike Taerae who had failed terribly to do so.
"Take your time, hyung. I'll be in my room. You can leave whenever you're ready." Gentle as always, yet painfully distant. Taerae supposed it was his just deserts.
And just like that, Taerae and Gunwook were no more—just Taerae, just Gunwook.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
Taerae believed he never forgot the way Gunwook felt. It was almost as if he was never meant to, with Gunwook etched into every inch of Taerae's skin, and weaved into the fibres that made Taerae up. Try as he might, but Gunwook always felt better. The best. No one before, or after, Gunwook had compared, and perhaps, Gunwook felt the exact same. That Taerae, despite his heartlessness, despite his lack of trying, and despite it all, was still the best in Gunwook's eyes.
And maybe, just maybe, Taerae worked hard to ensure he remained at the top of it all, just to ensure that he was the person Gunwook always came crawling back to at the end of the day.
Was that horridly twisted of him, to wish that his ex-boyfriend would not be able to move on from him? The part of Taerae that actually had a conscience did feel a smidgen of guilt at times. That, too, was just as simply washed away with each cant of their hips, with each push of Gunwook's hips that urged Taerae forward and eased his length deeper within the aching heat of Taerae's walls. When he was swimming within the throes of pleasure all thanks to Gunwook, it left little room for anything beyond pleasure.
"Harder," Taerae demanded, his breath shaky, all as he reached behind him to card his fingers through the soft locks of Gunwook's hair before tugging lightly at it. It easily caused Gunwook's throat to rumble with the softest, muffled whine as his hips drew back, only to push harder into Taerae as the elder had demanded. Taerae could not help the moan that left his lips then, the delicious drag of Gunwook's length against heated walls almost as good as the sheer enthusiasm the younger always possessed when it came to Taerae. It did not even take him reminding Gunwook for the same intensity of thrusts to ensue, Gunwook's built body pressed against Taerae's back—clammy, yet grounding all at the same time—as each forward thrust of Gunwook's hips continued to pull sounds of encouragement to leave Taerae's lips, his hand pressing down firmer on the back of Gunwook's head just to keep him close. Even despite the compromising position, at least Gunwook still remembered who called the shots.
Time always blurred when they were in bed together. Taerae did not know how long it had been since they've begun, lips pressed to each other's like they could kiss away the secrets between the both of them without speaking. Taerae had already scratched long lines down the smooth expanse of Gunwook's back and sucked a mark against the younger's tattooed skin—ink that he did not spot until Gunwook's shirt was fully off today. It's new, Gunwook had mumbled when Taerae's eyes stayed for too long on Gunwook's body—even if it was the norm for Taerae to stare for longer than appropriate to begin with, as if the copious time he's done a double take was not enough. When it came to Gunwook, nothing was ever enough.
Taerae liked the tattoo, and expressed how much he liked it through actions alone, leaving Gunwook a flushed mess, arousal heavy between his legs. Taerae teased him, stroking him to near completion, only to stop right before Gunwook would reach his peak.
"If you want to come, you have to do it inside of me," Taerae's demand sounded, fingers squeezing tightly around the base of Gunwook's cock, swollen and heavy with need, the slit dripping precum at a pace that could rival the tears that trickled down the man's cheeks—tears that sprung forward from his desperation.
This was how Taerae always got his way, even as Taerae was the one pressed into the bed, one of Gunwook's hand bruising against his hip, the other gripping at the sheets right beside Taerae's head as he continued to fuck into Taerae with abandon, the friction against Taerae's weeping length from between the bed and his body causing Taerae to grow a little delirious. He moaned into the pillow, muffling his noises for just a brief moment, before Gunwook's hand came to cup at his neck, lifting him up just slightly, causing Taerae's back to arch even more and for Gunwook's cock to push deeper into him. Taerae let out a choked whine in response, one hand moving to grip tightly at Gunwook's hand, clawing at it in a futile attempt to try to remove it—only to have Gunwook gripping tighter for just a second before he finally pulled his hand away.
"Please… please, want to hear hyung, sorry," Gunwook stuttered out. The way he fucked into Taerae the next moment directly contradicted his apology, though, as soon as the tip of Gunwook's cock pressed right against his prostate, causing Taerae to see stars behind his eyelids he unwittingly squeezed shut.
"Fuck, Gunwook… Gunwook," Taerae whispered shakily, gently smacking the back of Gunwook's head a few times, his body weak from the sensation, not helped at all by the way Gunwook rolled his hips down, pushing and rubbing against Taerae's weak spot again, and again, almost as if Gunwook was intent on rendering Taerae speechless. It took all of the elder's strength and restraint for him to push back against Gunwook, teeth gritting together, beads of sweat trickling down his temples. "Back.. on my back."
Gunwook didn't need to be told twice. He firmly nodded his head just as he pulled back entirely, with Taerae bemoaning the loss for just a split second before the air in his lungs were effectively knocked out by the way Gunwook flipped him around without a second to spare. Now, Taerae could fully see Gunwook—eyes shining with tears unshod, lower lip trembling from the exertion of holding back, and the desperation that pulsated through the veins that protruded against his forehead, his neck, and on his biceps. In the time the position shifted, Taerae took his time to regain his footing, before taking the sight of Gunwook before him all in, eager to commit it to his memory, all as his legs parted ceremoniously and eagerly to welcome the man within the space between his thighs once more.
"What are you waiting for, Gunwook?" Taerae asked, breathless, as Gunwook leaned closer, whining, his hand moving to grasp at the base of his length, leaking and swollen with arousal, pressing the tip of his weeping cock against Taerae's puckered entrance. "Fuck me already. Or are you at your limit, hm?"
Gunwook was quick to shake his head, eyes widening for a brief moment. His hand squeezed at Taerae's thigh just as he slid back into the elder, the motion smooth with no resistance on either end. Taerae let out a faint groan in response as Gunwook's length filled him up once more, all of which soon melted into a litany of moans as soon as Gunwook began to fuck into Taerae once again, all whilst soft sobs and moans leaving Gunwook's plump, kiss-swollen lips right against the crook of Taerae's neck.
"So good, hyung, so good," Gunwook whispered shakily, teeth sinking against the smooth slope of Taerae's shoulder, his whines now muffled against skin. Gunwook listened well—he always did, always did so good for Taerae, even if Taerae knew fully well that Gunwook was already at the height of his sensitivity after being edged and then denied once. Gunwook would never bite back, not when they were having sex together like this, even when he was bigger and stronger than Taerae was.
The way he snapped his hips to fuck into Taerae, hips angling to seek Taerae's sweet spot without even the elder demanding for it was another testament to how eager Gunwook had been to behave. Gunwook was always the best Taerae's ever had, an undisputed truth that Taerae did try his best to debunk, to write over, but alas… Gunwook was too good.
And Taerae supposed good boys should be rewarded.
"Do you… do you like being in me, Gunwook?" Taerae asked, his words mingled with the moans that could not help but leave him. Gunwook's hips ended up stuttering halfway in at the sudden question, and Taerae could not find it in himself to complain. Not yet, anyways, as Gunwook enthusiastically nodded right after, snapping his hips forward to push deep into Taerae, causing moans to slip past both their lips. Taerae had groaned, teeth sinking down onto his lower lip for a brief moment. It's difficult to think when Gunwook was balls deep inside of him, but he managed somehow, heel firmly pressed onto Gunwook's lower back to keep the man deep inside of him. Gunwook whined at that, but did not move, never did move unless Taerae asked him to, all because he was always so desperate to please.
"I love being in you, hyung… hyung…" Gunwook whispered, leaning forward to press soft kisses over Taerae's jaw, neck, and down his shoulders and along his collarbones already marred with marks from earlier on, with Gunwook never quite holding back with laying his claim on a man that never quite belong to the young man at all. "Do you like it too, hyung?"
It's expectant. The way Gunwook asked that question sounded as if he'd been desperate to hear a positive response from Taerae. And to Taerae, the answer was glaringly obvious—so much so that it did not even have to be said, but if Gunwook asked for it…
"Of course I do. You fill me up so well," Taerae whispered, rolling his hips forward just a little, the drag of Gunwook's cock against his tight walls causing his eyes to roll back briefly as he breathed a moan alongside Gunwook's muffled groan the same time his teeth sunk into Taerae;s skin. "… It's almost as if you were made for my own pleasure, Gunwook. Don't you think so? Does pleasuring your hyung make you feel good? And perhaps, the best you've ever felt?"
The enthusiastic way in which Gunwook pulled back and quickly nodded his head was, whilst not a surprise for Taerae, still very much welcome. Taerae could not help the laugh that slipped past his parted lips, unable to pick up on his own fondness for the man, as his hands gently cupped Gunwook's soft cheeks, flushed with exertion, thumb gently swiping over the dried tear tracks that had formed on the smooth skin. Even though his actions were soft and bordering dangerously on affectionate, the words that left him were not similar at all. There's a wicked glint to Taerae's eyes as his lips curved into a faint smirk, just as he pressed Gunwook's cheeks together and forced his lips to pucker.
"Then, Gunwook… if that makes you feel good, does that mean you'll be able to come just by seeing me do so?"
Oh, if only Gunwook could see the way his eyes widened at that. It's a ridiculous request, of course, one that was almost impossible, but there was no harm in trying. Gunwook was already severely pent up, and Taerae felt as if he was sensitive enough that he'd be brought over the edge at any given moment. It would only take just a split second, for Taerae to test Gunwook's commitment to being good for him again, and again, like a selfish narcissist that only thought of himself and no one else. And perhaps, Taerae truly was that—with Gunwook ceaselessly enabling him, allowing him to take and take until there was nothing left of Gunwook.
Taerae knew what Gunwook's answer would be. He had predicted it way before he even asked it. There was indeed no harm in trying when he already knew the answer.
"Anything hyung wants. I'll try," Gunwook whispered, biting down on his lower lip. "What do you want me to do, hyung? What do you need from me?"
Taerae hummed faintly in response, his hand reaching between their bodies to grasp onto Gunwook's hand, and for a split moment, their fingers laced together in what felt like a false normalcy, hands soft and warm against one another's, until Taerae eventually loosened his grip once he guided Gunwook's hand to wrap around his aching length, the grip causing his breath to hitch just subtly.
"You know what to do, right, Gunwook?" Taerae asked softly, expectantly, his gaze not once leaving Gunwook, as his heel pressed down firmer onto Gunwook's back, keeping him locked close. "Make me feel good."
There was just a small lapse. Taerae swore he could hear the gears of Gunwook's brain working in overdrive as he tried to make sense of the situation, but Gunwook always had such a smart head atop his shoulders—it was proven once again when Gunwook began to stroke Taerae's length, each flick of his wrist masterful and eager, yet not too intense and abrupt to cause discomfort. Taerae's head tipped back into the pillow, lips parted in moans that could not help but leave his lips, his hands moving to rest at the back of Gunwook's head before he tugged the man close, more or less hugging Gunwook to him. Gunwook's back bowed just to keep enough space for his hand to continue stroking Taerae's aching length, weeping effortlessly under the relentless hand that squeezed and flicked all at the right moments, thumb pressed between the slit of the bulbous, reddened head and rubbing at times, bringing Taerae closer and closer to his orgasm. The same tightness, and heat, resurfaced once more, a familiar sensation to Taerae all thanks to Gunwook. It truly did not take too long to near the edge—as he continued to moan, fingers tightening around the messy locks of Gunwook's hair, hips canting and twitching, Gunwook had soon understood that there were only mere seconds to Taerae's eventual release.
And that only seemed to spur Gunwook further. The world around Taerae spun endlessly, enough for him to simply squeeze his eyes shut as his hips desperately chased the sensation of Gunwook's hand on his cock, and of Gunwook's length helplessly twitching in Taerae, the tip constantly pressing and rubbing against Taerae's prostate. It's with a whine and a firm tug of Gunwook's hair that Taerae reached his climax, thick ropes of come spurting from his aching length. Gunwook moaned against Taerae's neck, the sound incredibly muffled, as Taerae's body twitched, as his moans only grew louder the more Gunwook eagerly stroked Taerae's length to help him ride out his orgasm. Taerae was not sure if he could even differentiate left from right at this very moment, body pulled taut underneath Gunwook's.
It's a sort of palpable pleasure that he was accustomed to feeling with Gunwook. One that numbed the dull ache in his head and undid the knots in his chest. Even if he was pressed into the bed, Taerae felt as if he was floating, body twitching and tensing every so often, and yet, what happened next was completely impossible to ignore—not when all of Taerae was still so attuned to Gunwook, to the way the man would cry whenever he was close, when his hips would inevitably twitch. Taerae's heel must have loosened its firm pressure a long time ago, yet Gunwook acted as if he was still very much trapped underneath Taerae's grip, his words somehow holding more weight and force than his physical body could ever hope to muster. Gunwook only pressed deeper with a loud sob, tears wetting Taerae's neck as he reached his own orgasm, helplessly spilling his load into Taerae, his hand desperately stroking Taerae's length and tugging faintly at it as if it'd ease the way he had to ride through his own ruined orgasm. It almost made Taerae feel bad. Except he knew Gunwook loved this just as much as Taerae did—and perhaps, even more so.
Taerae's amusement left him as a few breathless chuckles, as Gunwook's whines died down eventually, his hand only weakly stroking Taerae's cock, clearly to help Taerae slowly climb down from his high. Taerae's not immoral. He's not heartless like what Gunwook claimed to be, some number of nights ago. Not when he gently lifted Gunwook's head from his shoulder, watched as Gunwook's lower lip trembled despite the pearly whites of Gunwook's teeth sunk onto reddened lips, and quietly pressed soft kisses over the tears that trickled down the man's cheeks, tongue darting out to lap over the salty liquid against the soft skin. Gunwook was so dear. So well-behaved, that Taerae would have truly felt bad if things ended right then and there.
"You did well, Wook-ah," Taerae praised, softly, his voice more tender than he hoped it'd be, yet could not control. His hand gently combed through Gunwook's hair, whilst his gaze met Gunwook's, watching as the soft brown pupils trembled. He's still desperate—Taerae could see it in his eyes. Could feel it in him, quite literally, too.
"You can use hyung's body now. Give yourself a proper orgasm," Taerae added, smiling faintly before he gently pressed a kiss to the tip of Gunwook's nose.
The praise, and permission, ended up being the only thing Gunwook needed for all his inhibitions to finally be lifted. They ran wild, first with Gunwook crashing his lips upon Taerae's, their lips engaged in a passionate kiss, where Gunwook's tongue explored every bit of Taerae's mouth that he could reach, sucking and biting on Taerae's lower lip as his hips finally moved once more, fucking hard and fast into Taerae's body, their moans muffled and mixed with one another's. It was only a moment more before Gunwook, more sensitive than ever, quickly reached his peak once more, chasing his pleasure, riding out his orgasm, until he finally came down from his high through sobs and moans and whines because of Taerae—and just for him.
When Gunwook was finally spent—wrung dry from the orgasm Taerae had granted him—and could do nothing but collapse onto Taerae's body, breathing heavily as he clung onto Taerae, did Taerae finally feel satisfied too.
It's wrong to feel satisfied, though. Not when that satisfaction bled into the quiet moments where they simply laid together, Gunwook's body a comforting weight pressed against his own, and especially not when he could feel the rapidly beating of Gunwook's heart slow into a gentle, comforting pulse the longer they laid there together, basking in the afterglow. Perhaps, it was this increased clarity and the pockets of silence, that Taerae finally realised just how dangerous this whole thing was, and just how it had to come to a stop.
"Gunwook," Taerae called out softly, only earning a faint hum from Gunwook. It was too gentle. Too vulnerable. Their current position hit too close to home—a home they once shared until they didn't anymore. It was a false sense of security, a comfort that he could not allow himself to get used to when he had finally stopped craving for it. It's painful to come to this realisation, his heart wrenching when the affection only seemed to make things so much worse.
"You know how fucked up all this is, right?" Taerae asked. Gunwook's body tensed for just a moment, almost indiscernible if not for how close their bodies remained pressed together, before his body relaxed once more, meeting Taerae's question with yet another soft hum.
"It doesn't have to be."
"And yet, it is."
Silence. It's silent, because Taerae knew Gunwook knew that he was right. There was no going around it—from lovers, to exes, to whatever the hell this was between the both of them—*this* was unsustainable. This would cause the both of them to eventually crash and burn and end up worse than if they had a clean cut. But here they were, tangled in the sheets together, knees deep in the mess they've made, and because Gunwook's tongue was tied, unable to refute Taerae's statement, he simply took it as a cue to continue.
"We should take a break from this. Figure things out."
Gunwook grunted softly as he began to shift in the bed. Taerae swore he could feel the gentle squeeze of the man's arms around his body for a split second, almost as if he had not wanted to apart from Taerae, before Gunwook slowly pushed himself up, and parted either way, slowly slipping out of—and away from—Taerae, cheeks stained with tears, lips curved into a smile. Taerae chose to believe that Gunwook's eyes were red because he cried before, and not because he wanted to cry right now.
"If you say so, hyung. I'll listen to you."
Taerae did not know if he wanted Gunwook to listen this time around.
──────── ∘ ❪ ❋ ❫ ∘ ────────
It was a quiet, wintry evening in Seoul.
The end of Taerae's work day was always punctuated by the light rustling of his bag the moment the time showed 6:00P.M. in a small corner on his computer's display. He never chose to stay for longer, ending his work day without another thought. Swift footsteps brought him towards the train station only five minutes away from the building, and he was already boarding the crowded train to begin the horridly mundane and mundanely ordinary trip back home. His phone rang with a chime all too familiar, once a source of his happiness, now a sordid reminder that his past haunted Taerae as much as it completed him. He should have changed the ringtone. Removed the custom one so the person on the other end of the line would just be like anyone else. He also knew not to pick up—to be the first one this time around to truly, and surely, put an end to it all.
… Taerae brought his phone up to his ear after accepting the call.
"Hyung, can you come over?" There's silence, but not for long, before—
"I miss you."
The line went dead right after. Taerae was left standing there, fingers gripping tightly around the phone to listen to the monotonous dial tone—the only thing that remained to keep Taerae company.
Taerae got off the train right before the doors closed.
Gunwook could not live without Taerae.
And Taerae, as much as he refused to admit it, could not live without Gunwook too.