Archive of Our Own

“All done,” Jiyong types, hitting ‘send’ on the message.

He’s coming off of a busy day, having filmed a couple of simple, almost-music videos for the traveling exhibition accompanying his tour. The point of doing the exhibition was mainly just to give fans something extra, but he’s not going to act like he hadn’t personally enjoyed planning different outfits and choreography for each one.

His phone buzzes, his screen lighting up with a pair of messages. One says, “How did it go?” and the other, “Want me to meet you?”

Jiyong doesn’t even need to think about it. He sends his location, completely alone save for a couple of his bodyguards who would usually chaperone him home, or at least to his car, to ensure he wouldn’t be left alone in a vulnerable position in case anyone were to try something. It’s well past midnight now, so that means less people are out, but it also means the ones who are out are more likely to be up to something nefarious.

It’s not that Jiyong texts Seunghyun because he can’t get home on his own — he has his drivers — and it’s not like Seunghyun has a license to take him home, anyway. Honestly, Jiyong just really wants to see him. He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off the man since they slept together a few days ago, the first time they’d had sex in years, since their breakup.

Another notification delivers to his phone: Seunghyun liking his message. That means he’s on his way, and if he’s home like he said he would be, it shouldn’t take too long for him to get there. Jiyong scrolls through his Instagram feed to pass the time, double-tapping posts haphazardly, wanting to interact with as many fans as possible. He gets lost in his thoughts, though, Seunghyun’s face appearing in his mind like it’s burned into his retinas. God, he can’t wait to see him. Running into Seunghyun’s arms is exactly what he needs after working all day.

Spacing out makes it dawn on him that he should probably find a private place for the two of them to meet. Nobody is supposed to be in the studio except for Jiyong himself and his team, but that logic has never stopped people in the past from finding his location and camping outside, waiting for him to walk out the door. So it’s a good idea to be discreet, just in case. He whispers what’s going on to one of his guards and goes on to find a spot that works, ending up under a stairwell with a door that leads right outside to a back entrance. He shoots Seunghyun another text, updating him on the specifics for when he arrives, and goes back to playing on his phone.

When he hears the door unlatch, he looks up expectantly. His security guard pushes it all the way open and there Seunghyun is, in all black and wearing a mask, not because he’s sick but rather so no one would recognize him. When he sees Jiyong standing there, he pulls down his mask to reveal his smiling face, and Jiyong’s heart does a flip.

“Hey,” Jiyong greets, taking a step towards Seunghyun with a huge, dumb smile on his own face like he didn’t just see him in the morning. The door clicks shut, his security guard stepping outside to give them some privacy.

“Hi, Jiyong.” Seunghyun strides over to him with his arms outstretched and gives him a big, dramatic bear hug, as if Seunghyun hasn’t seen him in ages either, crushing Jiyong’s arms so he can’t hug back. He pulls away and steps back to get a good look at Jiyong, taking in the whole ensemble — his clothes, his hair, his makeup, his jewelry.

“…Wow.”

Jiyong giggles, turning 360 degrees, tugging his pant legs up a bit at the knees to show off his shoes. Every part of his look had been meticulously crafted to work together — his teal hair, the blue rib-knit tank top embroidered with a white flower brooch over top of his flowy white undershirt, his flared jeans, rings, earrings, colorful nails. But perhaps what’s most important are the short red block heels he has on, tying everything together with a neat bow. He’s no stranger to wearing women’s shoes, personally owning a plethora of them, sometimes in custom sizes. He wears what he thinks is pretty, and these are pretty, the scarlet color standing out against the cool tones of the rest of his outfit with a glossy finish. They’re bold and delicate at the same time, like his whole look, so they match the theme.

Before Seunghyun showed up, Jiyong had momentarily wondered if he still had his thing about heels. He didn’t choose them with only Seunghyun in mind, but he won’t lie and say it didn’t cross his mind. With Seunghyun right in front of Jiyong like this, though, it’s abundantly clear that time has had nothing on his fixation. He looks like he’s practically about to pop a vein, eyes glued to Jiyong’s heels as his mouth hangs slightly ajar. When Jiyong drops the legs of his jeans back down, Seunghyun’s gaze returns to his face, and Jiyong watches him work his jaw in an attempt to say something.

“You look…”

Jiyong smiles devilishly. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh, shut up.” Seunghyun gingerly shoves his shoulder, and Jiyong laughs, teasing, his cheeks flushing pink. “I mean, look at you. You are gorgeous. I don’t even know what to say.”

Seunghyun steps closer to grip Jiyong’s hips with both hands, but lets one fall to his side so as to not seem overly friendly; because, even though there’s realistically no way anyone could be around to see them, the chance is never completely zero. Jiyong fights the urge to touch him back, paralyzed by the same fear, but he does the best with what he has, shifting his weight to lean into Seunghyun’s palm.

“So, you like it?”

“I love it. What song is this for?”

“‘Take Me’.”

Seunghyun’s eyebrows raise. “If you insist.”

“Seunghyun-ah… ‘Take Me’. That’s the song.”

“Oh,” Seunghyun replies, and Jiyong rolls his eyes and snickers at how earnest he sounds, but he’s not actually sure that Seunghyun’s joking, and that might be even funnier. “Well, I will anyway. You look delicious. Makes me want to devour you.”

Jiyong snorts, and now Seunghyun joins him, his amused laughter mixing with Jiyong’s. But Seunghyun’s eyes linger a bit too long, something heavy settling over them, and Jiyong feels like time stops, only the two of them existing in the universe in this moment.

“No, you wanna know what I want to do?” Seunghyun asks, leaning in, his voice slipping lower. He grabs Jiyong’s jaw gently but firmly, just firm enough to force him to make eye contact.

Well, there goes being discreet.

It’s a risk, and Seunghyun’s confidence in taking it elicits a shiver from Jiyong, one that runs through his entire body. Seunghyun’s eyes are so intense that after only a few seconds Jiyong can’t take it any longer, and he has to screw his eyes shut, because there’s no way he’s going to try to shake out of Seunghyun’s grasp to turn his head away. A breath he was holding escapes his mouth, soft and shaky, as he’s rendered unable to focus on anything other than being held in place, even to such a minor extent — one of his biggest weaknesses.

“Hey, look at me.” Seunghyun’s voice is slightly louder now, tone a little sharp. Jiyong’s eyes snap open reflexively. It should embarrass him how easily he does what Seunghyun asks, but as soon as the thought comes it’s gone, as Seunghyun leans in against his ear and starts to speak to him again.

“I want to take you home. I want to take you to bed. And I want to take my time with you. Just touch you all over, slowly, drag it out as long as I want…make it an all night thing.”

And just like that, any logical thought or ounce of Jiyong still wanting to play hard to get is nowhere to be found. He suddenly feels as if there’s no place he should be other than right here, right now, following orders; having someone else make all his decisions for him because they know what’s best for him. He stands frozen as the hand on his chin moves to his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Seunghyun softly bites the side of his ear before pulling back to look at him once more, pointedly. He says nothing but Jiyong understands by his gaze, heavy yet still sober enough for reason — he’s giving Jiyong an out. A chance to run away, to put a stop to all of this right now in case he has misread the situation, in case Jiyong doesn’t want this. So Jiyong looks right into Seunghyun’s eyes and nods, his own eyes half-lidded and heart pounding already.

There’s nothing in the world he wants more than to go home with Seunghyun.

So, he lets himself have this one and he does. They go out the private exit and Seunghyun calls for a ride which, in reality, only takes a couple of minutes to show up but feels like hours with how charged the air surrounding them is. They spend the time staring at each other, with Seunghyun occasionally leaning in to whisper improper things to Jiyong, about how he wants the night to go, and Jiyong can only bite his inner cheek and pray that the car shows up soon.

Although, it’s not any better when it does arrive and Jiyong dismisses his security team. With the driver in the car, they can’t do anything crazy, but the windows are tinted enough that they don’t need to worry about being seen by the outside world, so Jiyong scoots as close to Seunghyun as he can with his seatbelt on and Seunghyun snakes an arm around Jiyong’s back to rest his hand on his waist. Of course, the contact starts out innocent enough, but it soon progresses from resting to gripping possessively to caressing up and down his entire side. Jiyong cocks his head to look Seunghyun in the face, his eyes dark.

With a mischievous smile, he asks, “what’s up?”

The hand on his waist squeezes tightly. Seunghyun scoffs at him in disbelief. He doesn’t seem to find the same humor in the situation as Jiyong does, huffing out a barely reserved, elongated sigh. But Jiyong figures Seunghyun can take some teasing before they get home and the power dynamic shifts — well, as Jiyong is secretly hoping it will. Because, although he loathes being so “easy”, having Seunghyun back is still new and such a luxury, and tonight he really just wants to surrender himself to someone he trusts with his life.

He doesn’t have to dwell on it long. Seunghyun leans in and whispers in his ear again.

“Careful. I’m already worked up enough.”

His voice is steady but in a purposeful way, as if the last of his restraints were being whittled away. It sends a thrill through Jiyong’s body. He feels his own heart starting to beat faster and harder.

“Oh, really?” he turns to Seunghyun again, his voice just over a whisper. He crosses his legs, orienting his body to face Seunghyun, which leaves him just out of Seunghyun’s grasp. And then, quieter, he adds, “is that a threat?”

“Jiyong…”

Seunghyun’s tone is warning, but Jiyong doesn’t really care. In fact, it spurs him on even more. What’s Seunghyun gonna do to him anyway, in a car with a witness? He feigns innocence, eyes wide like a doe.

“What? Now all of a sudden you’ve got self restraint?” He places a hand on Seunghyun’s leg, right above his knee, but slowly inches upwards until his palm sits on his thigh. He feels Seunghyun’s muscles tense under his fingertips. Wanting to see how far he can push Seunghyun, he looks him dead in the eyes, and puts on the most seductive tone he can muster up for his next question.

“What are you gonna do to me?”

This seems to break something in Seunghyun. His next breath in is slow and trembling. Jiyong can’t properly see him in the dark but he’s sure his pupils dilate. He suddenly grips the wrist of Jiyong closest to him tight and pulls him a little closer, eliminating the rest of the distance between them, leaning down next to the side of Jiyong’s face so their cheeks touch.

“If you keep acting like this, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. Maybe you need to be punished. Maybe I should rip off your jeans and spank you until you cry.”

The thought makes Jiyong’s eyes roll back a bit, his brain suddenly feeling sort of cloudy. Though he wouldn’t go down without a fight, the idea of being exposed like that in Seunghyun’s arms is embarrassing in an exciting way. He’s done impact play with Seunghyun before, years and years ago, never with anything but Seunghyun’s hand, but enough for Jiyong to identify it as a kink of his. It’s been so long since he’s been in that position that just picturing it makes his mouth water. And the idea of fighting it knowing deep down he’ll lose anyway makes it even more appealing; being manhandled and forced into submission instead of willingly going.

He briefly realizes it might be too late for that, however — any fight in his body that he would normally have has already left. He’s already too pliant, he would go way too easy. Right now he just wants, needs for Seunghyun to bring him home and get to business on him, his patience worn thin and desire simmering.

Seunghyun must be a mind reader, because he pulls back and stares for a moment, seemingly studying Jiyong’s face as best as he can in the dark.

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that. Not tonight,” he breathes. “You’re too pretty to be punished. Pretty like a doll.”

Jiyong feels heat rush downwards at the compliment, tension growing in his core. Seunghyun is so good at that, delivering praise in a patronizing, almost demeaning way. It’s a perfect balance, and it’s always enough to leave Jiyong feeling dizzy. He settles back into his seat, facing away from Seunghyun now, knowing they would have a problem if he has a visible boner when they step out of the car together. He tries to think about unsexy things, grass and rice and polyester, hoping his blood will redistribute itself.

They arrive at Seunghyun’s, making it inside the apartment building and through a very heated elevator ride to Seunghyun’s front door without incident, but the second Seunghyun gets the door open he’s shoving Jiyong back against it with enough force to shut it closed. Jiyong moans but the sound is muffled by Seunghyun’s lips, and anything else is muffled by Seunghyun’s tongue bullying its way into his mouth. He kisses Jiyong deep enough to swallow him whole. It makes Jiyong’s knees a little weak — well, that or the hand gripping the short hair at the nape of his neck, maneuvering his head in any way it needs to be maneuvered to allow Seunghyun to just take, take, take.

He feels himself getting hard embarrassingly quickly, although he’s basically been at half-mast since Seunghyun met him at the studio. The treatment Seunghyun gives him is just rough enough to make his head spin while still feeling affectionate.

“Oh, baby. You’re so pretty all dolled up like this,” Seunghyun drawls, fingers lightly stroking under Jiyong’s chin as he gets exactly the reaction he expects from him; a lip bite, a shaky exhale, a shiver. Jiyong feels his face heat up, and that might actually be the most embarrassing part of this all — how the littlest praise from Seunghyun makes him blush like a schoolgirl with her first crush, and how the tender words sound in Seunghyun’s sensual, rumbling voice. How it sends lightning bolts of arousal throughout his whole body. How Seunghyun’s undivided attention and sweet talk makes him throb with desire, feeling lustful dark brown eyes staring into his soul.

Seunghyun goes to kiss him again, pulling back afterwards with a slight frown on his face. “Mhm…so pretty. It’s a shame I’m going to have to take this all off of you.”

Jiyong hums in response as Seunghyun presses another slow kiss to his lips, their tongues sweeping over one another. It feels so romantic and intimate and it just makes Jiyong’s heart race even faster. He hears shoes being kicked off and then, without warning, he’s getting picked up bridal style, yelping in surprise. He throws his arms around Seunghyun’s neck, holding on for dear life, and Seunghyun just laughs at him. Rude.

Seunghyun carries him down familiar hallways before they end up in the master bedroom, and he closes the door with his foot. He turns around back toward the bed and plops Jiyong down on his back, crawling over him to crash their lips together, sucking on Jiyong’s bottom lip. He slides down to settle at Jiyong’s feet, his heels still on. He takes one heel in his hand and Jiyong’s calf in another, leaning in to kiss the toe of the shoe, running his fingers up to Jiyong’s ankle and reaching behind to slip it off of him.

“These uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

Seunghyun kneads at the soft arch of his foot, and Jiyong groans in relief, his muscles tingling as they loosen up. He wasn’t consciously aware of how tense his feet were until now, with Seunghyun massaging him. He has so much respect for women who wear high heels every day, ones much higher than his. He doesn’t know how they do it.

Seunghyun lifts Jiyong’s leg to his mouth to nip at the tendon of his ankle, slipping a finger under his sock to remove that, too. He kisses under the arch of Jiyong’s foot, his heel, around his ankle. He repeats the same process with Jiyong’s other side, placing his heels on the floor neatly.

Jiyong grins, shaking his head while Seunghyun delivers a kiss to each of his toes, making Seunghyun shoot him a questioning look.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

“What?” Seunghyun asks, like he’s being accused. “You have cute toes.”

“Weirdo.”

Seunghyun smiles, crawling back up to be face to face with Jiyong. “These are better anyway,” he remarks, pressing his thumb to Jiyong’s lower lip before replacing it with his mouth. It gets Jiyong smiling himself, his lips drawing out wide, making it hard to kiss Seunghyun back. Seunghyun takes advantage of this, kissing the corner of his smile, and then plants a line of kisses over his cheek to his ear, darting out his tongue to lick beneath the lobe.

“I would keep you dressed up but I’d rather feel you,” Seunghyun continues, starting to trail kisses down Jiyong’s jaw. “That being said, I’m in no rush.” His lips begin ghosting over Jiyong’s neck, and Jiyong whines softly. He wants Seunghyun so bad that he can’t even wrap his head around the concept of taking this slow, but that’s Seunghyun, always having wielded a level of patience Jiyong could only dream to have.

Seunghyun knows Jiyong too — knows his impatience all too well. He mouths at Jiyong’s neck, sucking and biting and soothing over with his tongue in apology. The sounds that come from Jiyong’s mouth seem to only spur Seunghyun on, little grunts and sighs that Jiyong tries to repress, though he doesn’t know why. Perhaps it’s the enjoyment he gets out of playing hard to get, acting unbothered, or perhaps it’s the small part of him that’s still scared of getting hurt again, as if this has all been a spell that will break if and when he makes the wrong move. Like he could scare Seunghyun away, as if he’s a stray cat Jiyong’s trying desperately not to startle.

The time he spent without Seunghyun pops into his head. He felt selfish for it at the time, but occasionally he would stay awake at night, replaying their last interactions, wishing he had acted differently, done anything other than what he had done. He tried to hide it as much as he could, not wanting to make Seunghyun’s struggles about himself, but he was truly despondent without him. It made him rethink everything he thought he knew, made him wonder if he would ever be able to fill the void Seunghyun left. He came to understand what people meant when they called their significant other their “better half”; he felt like half of himself was gone and could never be brought back. He can’t even visualize what it would be like to have gotten Seunghyun back, for that void to have been re-filled, only for him to lose him again. He doesn’t think he could recover from it, not for a second time.

He doesn’t register the pressure on his neck disappearing until Seunghyun gently cups his cheek with his right hand, looking at him with something like concern in his eyes.

“Hey…is everything alright?”

Jiyong looks up at him, surprised by his perceptiveness, and nods slowly. This doesn’t seem to satisfy Seunghyun, but he doesn’t quite know what to say without ruining the moment. He’s coming up with nothing.

“…Sorry,” he eventually breathes, biting his cheek and averting his gaze, ashamed.

“No, no-no-no,” Seunghyun murmurs, “I don’t want to hear that from your mouth.” Jiyong feels lips pressing a kiss to his forehead through his bangs. “What’s going on?”

Suddenly Jiyong’s throat feels a bit tight.

“I’m sor-”

He catches himself before he can apologize again, breathing in deep through his nose. He swallows hard. “I’m fine. I just…” he trails off. But Seunghyun looks at him with attentive eyes, patient as ever.

“I just missed you. And I don’t want you to stop.” And I’m scared. Scared that I’ve changed. Scared that you won’t love me anymore. Scared that you’ll let me go again.

Seunghyun leans his forehead against Jiyong’s, now cupping his face with both hands. His thumbs run back and forth over Jiyong’s cheeks, and he tilts his head to bring their lips together. He kisses Jiyong slow like he’s trying to piece together the rest of their under-spoken conversation directly from mouth to mouth.

“Please stay,” Jiyong whispers, voice breaking, too caught up in the moment to worry about how pathetic he probably sounds.

Seunghyun seems to understand that he isn’t just talking about tonight.

“I will. I will. I promise.”

They kiss again, desperately, starting steady but quickly turning intense, the two of them pouring in all of the loneliness, longing, and hurt of the past few years. It’s as if Seunghyun uses it as a medium to convince Jiyong of his words.

“I’m sorry, Jiyongie. I’m sorry,” Seunghyun chokes out, frenzied, when they periodically break for air. “I’m not leaving again. I couldn’t if I tried. I missed you so fucking much.” His hands leave Jiyong’s face to roam his still-clothed upper body, caressing and grabbing and squeezing his figure while continuing his attack on his mouth. Jiyong feels himself rapidly slipping back into a lustful haze, his thoughts of self doubt starting to seem further and further away, being smothered by Seunghyun’s touch. He pants out heavy, hot breaths against Seunghyun’s lips.

“There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you. And I left because I love you, so much, but I hurt you, and I’m sorry. It was never about you. I never stopped loving you.”

Jiyong moans into Seunghyun’s mouth, back arching into his touch. He feels the ache in his heart start to dull with every word out of Seunghyun’s mouth as he twists his hand into the man’s soft, dark hair, trying to ground himself through the barrage of his affections.

Seunghyun breaks away to kiss down Jiyong’s neck again. His teeth softly graze the skin around his Adam’s apple, lips closing around it to suck at it, and Jiyong cries out, throwing his head back against the pillow.

But then Seunghyun stops his ministrations for a split second, and it’s almost enough time to make Jiyong’s blood run cold. However, when he opens his eyes, he’s only met with the most passionate expression he can ever remember seeing on the other man.

“I know you probably don’t believe me and I understand. That’s okay. You don’t need to believe me because I’m going to show you.” Seunghyun strokes his face with the back of his hand. “Will you let me try?”

Jiyong meets his eyes again, willing himself not to get any more emotional. “Yes…just, please-”

He doesn’t need to add “hurry”. Despite all his talk earlier, Seunghyun seems to get that going painfully slow is not what Jiyong needs right now. When Seunghyun instantly yields and resumes working it makes relief course through Jiyong’s veins — relief and newfound desire. Seunghyun kisses him with more urgency, though still so gentle it makes his heart ache. He smooths his hands down Jiyong’s sides and hooks a finger under his tank.

“Let’s get this off of you, yeah?”

Jiyong nods before the question is even out of his mouth. A gentle smile creeps up onto Seunghyun’s face as Jiyong raises his arms to help him take him out of the blue vest, to which Seunghyun obliges without delay. The white long-sleeve shirt underneath is ruffly and silky, mostly opaque but just sheer enough for Seunghyun to be able to see the tone of Jiyong’s sun-kissed, tattooed skin. His hands run over the fabric, caressing it like it’s a part of Jiyong’s body, splaying his hand out over his stomach. The size of his hand makes Jiyong twitch in his pants — he forgot about this, how terribly enamored he gets with how large Seunghyun’s hands are, his spread fingers able to cover Jiyong’s entire abdomen. It makes desire burn hot all throughout his body, feeling small and delicate like this. Seunghyun presses their lips together again, and this time Jiyong immediately opens up and deepens the kiss, sighing into Seunghyun’s mouth as their tongues brush against each other. As expected, Seunghyun responds eagerly to the sound, humming in contentment, sliding a hand up to softly graze the side of Jiyong’s neck, his other hand sitting on Jiyong’s chest, fingers stroking through his shirt at the space between his breasts.

The next time their lips meet, the hand against Jiyong’s neck drops to the collar of his shirt as Seunghyun starts to feel around for buttons, and Jiyong’s heart sinks with the thought of being stripped completely bare. He feels a bit silly — Seunghyun just saw him naked the other day — but it all happened so fast and they were both so caught up in the moment that he didn’t have time to overthink how he looked. Plus, and although it was overwhelmingly hot, it certainly wasn’t the most romantic sex he’d ever had. It was quite dark, they technically weren’t even fully unclothed, and the two of them had been so starved for each other for so long, for the simplest of touch and connection, that it hadn’t taken very long for them to collapse into each others arms completely spent. Seunghyun had not truly gotten a good look at Jiyong. Now, the worries from that night he had pushed to the back of his head for another day reemerge.

He knows his body has changed, his edges softer and curvier now, enough meat on his bones to keep him warm and to fill out his figure and face. The long hiatus he took from the idol life forced him to eat like a normal person for the first time since his childhood. He also found himself able to sleep and rest much more often, with no imminent responsibilities having him work himself more than half to death anymore. And even though he was living a more private life than possibly ever before during that time, he didn’t fail to notice the way his treatment shifted when he did go out into social settings after gaining a healthy amount of weight; the way some of the people around him suddenly became concerned about his health, how they would constantly ask him when he planned to go back to music and when he’d begin training again, even down to how people would look at him differently, both people that he knew and strangers on the street silently judging his appearance all the same, as if to ask how he could be okay with the state of himself.

And he’s naturally slimmed down a bit since he eventually did go back to working out for his comeback, not sure if he could still be considered “chubby”, but even that has come with its own baggage. He’s picked up on how almost every time he’s met with someone he hasn’t seen in a while they’ve been unable to leave the topic of his body alone, always complimenting him on lost weight despite him not even particularly trying to end up that way. He’s not been insulted outright by anyone he knows, but the implications of what they’ve said, that he was less desirable before, have been more than enough to hurt.

He’s aware that Seunghyun went through the same things when he was a child, but he also knows Seunghyun still carries that shame put on him by others, having internalized it to this day. It means he might understand, if he knew what was going on in Jiyong’s head, that is, but it also means surely he of all people won’t be able to pretend that Jiyong hasn’t changed. Jiyong knows he looks different enough from the last time they were in a relationship for Seunghyun to notice. So, all that is to say, who knows? Seunghyun is attracted to the version of Jiyong that he remembers. What if Jiyong is not his type anymore?

Seunghyun doesn’t look at his face yet, and for this Jiyong is secretly thankful, knowing how much of an open book he is and how well Seunghyun can apparently still read him. No, Seunghyun’s hands are busy as he works at the fabric, pulling apart the collar after undoing the few buttons that the shirt has at the top, and beginning to mouth at the newly exposed skin. It’s so light it almost tickles, and Jiyong gets goosebumps, causing him to squirm a bit, his expression relaxing. Seunghyun’s hands drift down to his waist again, briefly grabbing at it to hold him in place before moving under the ruffles at the bottom of his shirt. He pauses and finally looks up at Jiyong, to ask without words if he can remove it, too, and really, even with Jiyong’s insecurities, where else would he possibly want to be in this moment? Seunghyun’s eyes are so strikingly fond that it’s like being splashed in the face with cold water, reminding him where he is and how badly he wants this, how much he trusts Seunghyun. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath, wanting to rip off the bandaid, lowering his fingers to wrap around Seunghyun’s own and help him lift his shirt in lieu of an answer — praying Seunghyun doesn’t see how shaky his hands have grown.

He once again lifts his arms and watches Seunghyun drop the shirt on the floor beside the bed. When Seunghyun turns back towards him, he becomes very acutely aware of how exposed he is, and, without thinking, he moves to cover his abdomen, as if acting on instinct. Seunghyun does catch this, however, and his eyes widen before he furrows his brow. He catches Jiyong’s wrists, letting them rest in his own hands where they are.

“What are you doing? Jiyong-ah?”

Jiyong feels his skin prickle, his face heating up. He averts Seunghyun’s gaze, feeling big doe eyes staring holes through him. “I…”

He holds his breath as Seunghyun suddenly nudges his wrists away from his body. He panics for a second but before he can do or say anything he sees the look in Seunghyun’s eyes, which are no longer fixed on his own but rather on his bare upper body, and a very insecure part of him feels dumbstruck by his reaction. He wouldn’t have thought he was anything too special in his current form, but Seunghyun stares deeply at him the same way he stares at a work of art that’s resonated with him, and it steals all the air from Jiyong’s lungs. Where Jiyong looks at himself with condemnation Seunghyun marvels at with so much adoration and fondness in his eyes. It makes Jiyong feel like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

Glancing back up at him, Seunghyun settles his hands on Jiyong, thumbs smoothing over the skin of his stomach, and suddenly Jiyong wants to cry. He looks up to try to blink away any tears forming. Now that he thinks about it, it’s only obvious that Seunghyun would never care about something so shallow, especially since he grew up chubby and was constantly degraded for it, but at some point when they were apart that wasn’t so easy to remember, and Jiyong guesses he just lost his way.

“Jiyong-ah…”

Seunghyun calls out to him, snaking the palm of his hand all the way up Jiyong’s body and then cupping his cheek.

“You are so beautiful.”

Jiyong looks at him with wide eyes as Seunghyun brushes his bangs away to leave another kiss on his forehead. “So beautiful,” he continues. “Even more than I remember.” He rests their foreheads together. “Perfect…you are all mine.”

Nothing says “I love you” to Jiyong like “you’re mine”.

It feels like a literal weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He practically lunges at Seunghyun to drag him in for a kiss, trying to let his words permeate, fueled with enough passion that their teeth click. Seunghyun mutters out little praises every time they pull slightly apart, his voice gruff and deep, and it makes Jiyong’s pants tighten to a nearly painful extent, his erection straining against his jeans. He grinds his hips upwards, desperate for any kind of friction, any relief. Seunghyun grunts when their hips meet, and just like that the gentleness is gone, replaced by hunger and a determination to prove Jiyong’s worth to him.

He kisses down Jiyong’s body, biting his pecs before moving to his perky nipples, sucking and nipping at one while rubbing and lightly pinching the other, making Jiyong gasp and whimper until they’re sensitive and turned from brown to a pretty pink. Seunghyun’s lips go lower and kiss all over Jiyong’s soft stomach, hands at his hips again. He presses a kiss to each of the ‘x’s inked above Jiyong’s navel, which he then laps at itself and dips his tongue inside. Jiyong gasps and arches into Seunghyun again, but his mouth is gone and he’s already moved onto the next thing, kissing all over his plush lower belly and starting to work at his jeans.

“Wait, wait…” Jiyong gasps out, once again reduced to a breathless, panting mess. Seunghyun stops what he’s doing right away and it makes Jiyong’s heart flutter; he’s such a good man, and he looks so adorable with his wide, curious eyes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Jiyong paws at his shirt. “Aren’t you gonna show yourself to me too? I can’t be the only one without clothes,” he smirks. He means for it to be received as a joke, attempting to deflect from its undertones of insecurity, but Seunghyun doesn’t laugh. He goes in to kiss Jiyong deep and starts unbuttoning his own shirt, and once he’s done, it joins Jiyong’s shirt on the ground.

“Better?”

Jiyong can’t help the lovestruck smile that takes over his face. He reaches out to trace the scar on Seunghyun’s chest, sitting right where Jiyong remembers leaving it. “Much. You can continue.”

This time Seunghyun huffs an incredulous laugh. He plants one more kiss on Jiyong’s lips and goes back to undoing Jiyong’s pants, removing them completely and going to pull off his underwear, now knelt between his legs, pausing momentarily.

“Can I take these off of you?”

Jiyong doesn’t think he could possibly fall deeper in love with this man. He nods, trying and failing to hold back his smile. Seunghyun matches it as he removes Jiyong’s final layer for him, his dimples showing, and Jiyong melts.

He initially hisses at the adjustment to the cold air, but then Seunghyun’s warm hand is finally on his neglected cock and he’s moaning as he thrusts into it, his body reacting before his brain. Just as quickly as it appeared, though, Seunghyun’s hand is gone, and Jiyong reaches out frantically. Seunghyun takes his hand.

“Shh, baby. I’m just going to take these off,” he says, hands on his own bottoms. Jiyong accepts this with a frown, so needy now that he doesn’t even care that Seunghyun chuckles at him when he’s situated. “You still look so cute when you pout, even after all these years.”

Before Jiyong can come up with a retort his lips are being ravished again. His moan is swallowed by Seunghyun’s mouth as he reaches his hand down between them to wrap around Seunghyun’s cock. Seunghyun groans at the touch, clearly having been affected by the foreplay just as much as Jiyong if his hardness is anything to go by. His dick is hot and heavy and thick in Jiyong’s hand, and all he can think about is how badly he wants it inside him, stretching him out and making him see stars, hitting that spot inside him again and again. He whimpers, feeling it throb in his hand, so responsive and flushed by barely any touch.

“Please, Seunghyun…”

It’s all he can say, his voice small and fragile, and thankfully, Seunghyun doesn’t give him a hard time about it. Maybe it’s because he’s just as pent up and painfully aroused as Jiyong, unable to drag this out like he usually would like to.

Seunghyun crawls up just a little bit to reach the nightstand next to them, hastily rummaging through it to find the lube, which isn’t very difficult since they just used it a few days ago. He slams the drawer shut and uncaps the bottle, the sound of the ‘click’ sending a spark of lust through Jiyong, making his breath hitch in a kind of Pavlovian response, knowing what’s to come. He watches Seunghyun pour what’s probably an excessive amount into his hand before setting the bottle down and clasping his hands over one another to warm the liquid up.

Jiyong trembles in anticipation as Seunghyun’s hands travel down, first to his inner thighs, massaging his muscles as they shift and tense under his hand. Jiyong’s dick visibly twitches, his hands digging into the sheets beneath him as he tries not to lose his cool and do something rash like roll the both of them over just to sink down dry on Seunghyun’s cock right now.

“Look at you. So sensitive…but you’re being so patient for me,” Seunghyun purrs, going to grip Jiyong’s cock, stroking it a few times with his now slick hand. Jiyong groans, louder than he should at such simple contact, his hips raising off the bed into Seunghyun’s grasp. Seunghyun’s hands feel like heaven, solid and firm and slightly calloused.

Seunghyun lets go and his fingers travel lower until they graze Jiyong’s hole, making his entrance twitch like the digits are already inside it. Jiyong breathes so heavily the tip of his tongue sits outside of his mouth.

“You’ve been so good. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Jiyong nods, whimpers soft. “Yes, yes, please,” he babbles.

Seunghyun smiles at him, pushing the tip of a finger up against his entrance. “So polite, too. Ready?”

Jiyong nods his head ‘yes’ again, although Seunghyun can see by the look in his eyes alone what the answer is. Before even a second goes by Seunghyun is pushing in and Jiyong mewls, eyes rolling back, finally being somewhat filled. He clenches hard around Seunghyun immediately, whining involuntarily when he starts pumping his finger in and out of him. Seunghyun’s fingers are so much bigger than his own, a bit wider and a lot longer.

After a few more pumps, though, Jiyong greedily rules it’s not enough, not quite reaching deep enough inside him to hit the sweet spot and not stretching him open enough for him to feel the slight, delicious burn he craves. He squirms a bit under Seunghyun, trying to get him to hit a better angle, but Seunghyun grabs his hip with his other hand and holds him still. Jiyong whines again, thrashing his head against the pillow, already unable to take any more of this.

“Seunghyun, I need more, please, I can’t-”

Seunghyun shushes him, placing his free hand under Jiyong’s thigh, gently pushing and guiding it up towards his chest. He settles his hand by the fold of Jiyong’s knee, holding his leg in position. He shifts to be face to face with Jiyong again, who lets his eyes fall shut, his whole body trembling with need.

“Shh…I’ve got you, okay?”

The new angle lets Seunghyun push his finger in slightly deeper, and Jiyong throws his head back when it lightly rubs against his prostate, a choked gasp leaving his throat as a wave of euphoria crashes over him.

“Right there?”

Smug asshole. He can hear the smirk in Seunghyun’s voice when he says it.

“Shut up,” Jiyong tries, but he’s too drunk on pleasure to sound the slightest bit intimidating.

Seunghyun snickers. He retracts his finger and thrusts back in two without notice, and Jiyong yelps, slapping a hand over his mouth. Seunghyun is relentless, though, and he doesn’t slow down his fingers.

“Jiyong…”

Seunghyun takes a hold of Jiyong’s wrist and pushes it away from his mouth to above his head, pinning it to the pillow.

“Don’t do that. You sound so pretty like this. So sexy.”

Jiyong moans softly, testing the give on his wrist to find there is none; he realizes he’s properly stuck, and his walls clench around Seunghyun’s fingers hard. He really likes being held down during sex — loves feeling helpless and powerless but not truly being it, just fully trusting his partner not to hurt him — and Seunghyun remembered this. He feels a rush of precum gather at the tip of his cock, slowly leaking out to his stomach as Seunghyun scissors his fingers inside of him, stretching him open even further. His free hand scrabbles to latch onto Seunghyun’s shoulder, digging his nails into his skin. It makes Seunghyun grunt, and he bows his head to kiss Jiyong, taking ownership of every sound that comes out of his mouth as he fingers him open.

When he adds a third, Jiyong starts to feel his lower abdomen getting tight and he knows he’s close to the finish line. He pats Seunghyun’s shoulder frantically to get his attention, not about to let this end before it even begins.

“Stopstopstop, I’m close,” he blurts out, his voice rough with arousal. Seunghyun halts his hand. “Please Seunghyun-ah, I’m ready, I need you, now.”

Seunghyun pulls out his fingers and lets go of Jiyong’s leg, allowing it to drop onto the bed, and, even though Jiyong asked for it, he tenses up at the uncomfortable feeling of being empty, biting his lip. The sight he sees when he opens his eyes makes everything better, though — Seunghyun lubing himself up, squeezing himself and stroking a few times, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. His brows are knitted together in concentration and his cheeks are slightly flushed, his body glistening with sweat, the shine highlighting his muscle tones and his angular cheekbones and jawline.

“Fuck,” Jiyong breathes. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything sexier than the man in front of him right now. He swears he’s only gotten sexier with age, like a fine wine. Well, they say you are what you eat…or drink, he supposes. The expression lines visible on Seunghyun’s face, the way his body has bulked up, the way his voice has become rougher and more mature over the years, it all makes Jiyong’s brain incredibly foggy, makes it so the only thing he can think about now is how badly he wants Seunghyun to just hold him down and fuck him into the sheets with reckless abandon.

Seunghyun meets his eyes again, the sides of his lips quirking up without him trying. He looks adorable, almost giddy, and Jiyong’s heart warms. He presses down on the inner sides of Jiyong’s thighs to spread them further apart and runs a hand over his stomach softly, trying to comfort him for what’s to come.

“I really shouldn’t give you what you want after being so bratty, but you’ve been so good otherwise. Really, so good. And, besides, I need you too…bad, Jiyong. I can’t wait any longer.”

“God…” Jiyong shudders, Seunghyun’s lustful, commanding voice making his walls tighten around nothing. He looks up expectantly at Seunghyun hovering above him.

“You ready?” Seunghyun adds, gentler, breaking character. Jiyong hums in agreement, and then Seunghyun is lining up to press against Jiyong’s entrance before slowly pushing in, just the tip at first, one hand on his cock, guiding himself. He keeps caressing the surface of Jiyong’s stomach to try to distract him from the discomfort of the stretch as he thrusts in a little at a time, and although Jiyong is tight, there’s no real resistance as he goes. Jiyong grips the sheets again, feeling the slight sting but also the sensation of being stretched out and filled up. It’s so worth the brief burning. It always is with Seunghyun — the two of them are always so in sync and tuned into what the other wants and needs during intimacy. It could just be Jiyong being the romantic he is, but he more often than not feels like it’s more than just sex when he’s with Seunghyun; that, rather, it’s making love. And although he’s trying not to read too much into this encounter in order to protect himself, he can’t stop the thoughts in the back of his head telling him that this has started to go quite far in the direction of lovemaking.

When Seunghyun finally bottoms out inside Jiyong, he takes a second to shift upwards, delicately cupping Jiyong’s face.

“Baby, take a deep breath for me, okay?”

Jiyong hadn’t even realized he’d stopped breathing until Seunghyun snaps him out of it, so he nods and lets the rest of the air in his lungs rush out in a huff. He’d started holding it unconsciously when Seunghyun was pushing in, his senses so overwhelmed. He inhales deep through his nose, a little unsteady, never breaking eye contact with Seunghyun, who looks back at him encouragingly.

“Good.”

Jiyong’s fingers tighten around the sheets, hard enough that he’s surprised it doesn’t rip, letting out a soft moan and shifting around restlessly under Seunghyun.

Seunghyun knows, has always known the effect that his compliments and praises have on Jiyong, and he exploits it to its fullest extent. Really, Jiyong thinks nothing can compare to Seunghyun’s dirty-sweet talk. Yes, he has a large amount of adoring fans and juniors who admire him and his work, but they just tell him what he wants to hear. He likes compliments, sure, but at the end of the day, he doesn’t deeply value the opinions of people who have an incentive to cheer him on.

And he’s not much of a self-congratulatory person, either. For every affirmation he receives from others, he hears probably double the negativity and criticism from his own head — and he can be cruel. Jiyong generally considers himself to be a self assured person, but he’s also a perfectionist, so he can just as easily be harsh on himself. It’s how he grew up, hardwired to seek validation from others and taught to find all the mistakes and faults in everything he creates, since he was a child.

So, when someone like Seunghyun comes along, someone so effortlessly sexy that Jiyong looks up to, that he admires, that he loves, and gives him that validation he so desperately craves in that sultry voice of his, it drives him absolutely crazy. It makes him feel like his head is in the clouds in the best way possible.

Seunghyun laughs softly at his reaction, of course — for all his own insecurities and struggles, he’s still capable of cockiness in bed after all these years. It would make Jiyong livid if it wasn’t so hot, so different from his normal, gentle, silly self and yet so genuine and seamless. But he knows Seunghyun is a skilled actor. He can fake it till he makes it, and then some.

“Tell me when,” Seunghyun whispers, planting a kiss on Jiyong’s lips. Jiyong pulls him in for more and they stay like that for a while, Seunghyun trying to relax him with his mouth and take his mind off the discomfort. It works like a charm — not long into their make-out session, Jiyong is tapping Seunghyun’s hip, slightly out of breath, whispering back to him, “go, you can go”.

Seunghyun uses the last bit of self restraint he has to go easy on Jiyong, even after receiving his permission. He pulls out only a fraction and pushes back in, and the next time he goes a little further and repeats, gradually working up to the point where he’s backing all the way out until only the tip of his cock is inside Jiyong before driving back in. And once he gets to that point, it’s over for Jiyong.

Every movement leading up had been so small and soft Jiyong could barely feel it, and that slow build to totality makes the first full thrust feel utterly divine. He can’t believe how incredible Seunghyun feels inside him; it almost seems too good to be true, the way Seunghyun slots perfectly into him like they’re two puzzle pieces, the way he fills Jiyong up so deliciously and thorough, the way Jiyong can feel everything, even the ridges of Seunghyun’s veins dragging against his walls when they go bare like this. No matter how many times they do it, or how much time passes in between, sex between the two of them always feels right, like when they join together everything falls into place and all is momentarily balanced in the universe.

He moans, soft at first, as Seunghyun starts to set a slow, gentle pace. He wraps his legs around Seunghyun’s waist, locking his ankles together, trying to bring him as close as he possibly can while hitting a better angle. It’s better, not perfect, but it’s enough to make Jiyong curse. His hands slip down to the flat sheet on the mattress again but Seunghyun isn’t having it this time. He grabs both of Jiyong’s wrists and pins them above his head.

“Stop doing that,” he orders, stern. Jiyong’s breath stutters, barely able to hold eye contact the way Seunghyun is scrutinizing him.

“S-sorry,” he pants out, tightening around Seunghyun, who still has his hands around his wrists and doesn’t stop rocking his hips into him.

“It’s alright, Jiyong. I know you don’t- don’t mean to,” Seunghyun grits out between thrusts, the bed squeaking with each one, as he switches to hold both of Jiyong’s wrists down with only one hand so he can cup his cheek with the other. “You’re always so in control. You just need to let me take care of you, that’s all. You are so good. Such a good boy.”

The words ripple through Jiyong’s body, seeping through him and settling heavy like honey. He tests his wrists only to find absolutely no give, just like earlier but better now, and he cries out like a wounded animal, so loud at this point that if the building wasn’t soundproof they’d surely be getting a noise complaint. He wouldn’t even be somewhat capable of processing embarrassment in this moment, though — his thoughts are getting further away from him with every passing second, and the weightless feeling in his body is getting more intense.

Seunghyun fucks him like that for a bit, relentless, speeding up at some point. For how long, Jiyong doesn’t know; he can’t keep track of time, feeling both as if it’s passing rapidly and as if it doesn’t pass at all, like he’s in some kind of limbo. Seunghyun whispers to him the whole way, but Jiyong only understands maybe half of what he’s saying, lost in the feeling of Seunghyun’s cock sliding in and out of him, the slick sounds and smacking of skin, everything wet and hot.

After a while he hears Seunghyun curse out and start to slow down before he halts his movements entirely, his hand letting go of Jiyong’s wrists to grab at the softness on the underside of his supple thighs, squishing and pressing his palms against them, pushing them back towards Jiyong’s chest. He pulls out of Jiyong fully and Jiyong whines, pitiful, eyes big and helpless, his wrists still glued to the pillow behind him despite nothing holding them there.

“I know,” Seunghyun hushes him. “But this is going to feel better.”

He hoists Jiyong’s knees over his shoulders, practically folding him in half, marginally rocking back and forth to stretch out his muscles. He pulls back and leans in a couple more times to ensure he won’t be hurting Jiyong or pulling or tearing anything, hands gripping over top of his thighs now, covering the tattoos there, and then he’s ramming back into Jiyong, burying himself to the hilt in one movement. It makes Jiyong’s vision go white, the new angle targeting his prostate head on, and he screams in pleasure as Seunghyun speeds up again knowing he found the sweet spot.

“Fuck~! Oh my god, yes, yes, yes, fuck-”

Jiyong’s hands come alive again, scrambling for purchase, landing in a death grip around Seunghyun’s shoulders, his nails digging into them and scraping further down his back with every thrust strongly enough to leave angry red trails in their wake. Seunghyun stiffens up and groans loud in response, the pain only seeming to incentivize him further, driving into Jiyong with newfound fervor.

“Fuck, Jiyong,” Seunghyun purrs. “God, I missed this so much. There’s no one else-” Seunghyun interrupts himself with a moan, an aching sound that travels right down to Jiyong’s cock, flushed and painfully hard, leaking steadily now. “It’s just you. It’s only you.”

“Ah~, Seunghyunnie, d-don’t stop, please-”

Jiyong’s vision blurs as he babbles, his toes curling and lower belly tightening up again, rapidly. He can tell it won’t be long. He thinks he’ll die if Seunghyun stops now.

“Ngh…fuck,” his voice sounds utterly wrecked now, “please keep going, please…”

Seunghyun frowns. “Oh, Ji-ya, my baby, don’t cry. It’s alright.”

Wait, what-? He could’ve sworn- but…

Huh, what do you know. Jiyong is crying. He notices his wet eyelashes, that there’s tears beginning to stream down his face, ones that Seunghyun wipes away with his thumbs softly like Jiyong is something precious, and that his throat is tight and strained. He’s not sobbing, but now his inhales sound more like sniffles and his moans are broken and watery.

He looks at Seunghyun longingly to be met with a comforting, sympathetic smile that wraps itself around Jiyong’s heart like a heated blanket. With one hand on Jiyong’s cheek and one hand on his thigh, Seunghyun presses a kiss to Jiyong’s quivering lips and another to the side of his knee, pace stuttering but never letting up completely. It’s so soft that it makes fresh tears spill out of Jiyong’s eyes. If he wasn’t crying before, he certainly is now.

It doesn’t bother Seunghyun. Every time new tears fall, he’s there to kiss them away. He grabs Jiyong’s hand and intertwines their fingers, cradling his head with his free hand, fingers raking up through his sweat-damp hair.

“Seunghyunnie…I love you,” he blubbers, not having even half a mind to think about how ridiculous he probably looks and sounds sobbing in Seunghyun’s arms while the man fucks him senseless. Seunghyun shifts almost all of his weight onto Jiyong, trapping his cock between them and providing him with the friction he needs without directly touching him, instead removing the hand under Jiyong’s head to cup his cheek again, squeezing their joined hands with the other.

“I love you too, Jiyongie. I love you so much. You are perfect. I love you so much. It’s okay.”

Jiyong is racked by another sob and Seunghyun just doesn’t let up, keeps whispering “I love you, I love you” again and again, nailing Jiyong’s prostate every time he plunges back in, and it’s the last thing Jiyong needs to be sent barreling over the edge, sobbing out Seunghyun’s name as he comes, chanting it like a prayer. He doesn’t know if he’s ever came so hard, if he’s ever felt such euphoria in his life. He thinks he sees colors he’s never seen before. His thighs tense up painfully hard around Seunghyun’s waist, trembling so violently it shakes the whole bed.

Seunghyun is right behind him, crying out Jiyong’s own name as his walls spasm around his cock, burying his face into Jiyong’s shoulder to muffle these sexy, uncharacteristically high-pitched whimpers that leave his mouth while he spills inside him. He continues driving his hips into Jiyong until he’s been milked for every last drop, past the point where Jiyong would normally start to feel oversensitive if his mind hadn’t already totally detached from his body. After an eternity, Seunghyun collapses motionless on top of Jiyong, but it lasts only a brief moment before he’s pulling out and taking Jiyong’s face in his hands again, his thumbs smudged with the black eyeliner that streaked down Jiyong’s cheeks, not that Jiyong is even cognizant of it.

Seunghyun asks if he’s okay, but he’s blurry, and the question sounds far away to Jiyong like he’s not talking to him. It sounds silly, echoes funny like he’s underwater. Jiyong smiles, giggles all watery, leaning into the hands on his cheeks and closing his eyes. He doesn’t know exactly what’s going on but he’s pretty sure Seunghyun smiles back at him. Then, in the blink of an eye, Seunghyun has them repositioned, scooping Jiyong up to lay atop his chest, strong arms wrapping around his frame tightly. His eyelids flutter shut again, feeling heavy as he nuzzles into the crook of Seunghyun’s neck and breathes in his scent. A soft, cool blanket settles over top of him, and he feels like he’s wrapped in a cocoon. The warmth of Seunghyun’s body coupled with his big hands rubbing his back practically puts him to sleep. He listens to Seunghyun’s steady, slowing pulse and the rumble of his voice like it’s a lullaby, his words sweet and dripping with sugar like a thick syrup although Jiyong can’t piece together exactly what he’s saying, and he lets himself drift in and out of consciousness, safe in Seunghyun’s arms.

He feels so at ease. Every piece of self doubt he carried to today is nowhere to be found now. He can’t quite think through the haze of the afterglow, but it’s been so long since he’s been taken care of, since he’s been fucked so thoroughly like this that he feels the relief seep all the way into his bones. All he hears in his head now is this steady, serene white noise.

He looks up at Seunghyun and hears him ask if he’s back, and although he knows what words Seunghyun said he can’t make out what they mean together or how to answer him, the information just out of his grasp. But Seunghyun doesn’t care. He just smiles and kisses Jiyong’s forehead, running fingers through his messy, wet hair. Jiyong smiles back at him, blinking slowly and thick like a cat being pet by someone it loves.

He lets Seunghyun hold him until he shifts below him to reach for the nightstand, removing his warm arms from Jiyong’s body. Jiyong’s own arms shoot out as he whimpers, immediately feeling a chill, but Seunghyun just chuckles, one hand settling back between his shoulders in no time.

Seunghyun tilts him up just slightly and Jiyong hisses at the feeling of something damp and cold pressing against his stomach, his body going stiff. It warms up fast against his molten hot skin, though, and he lets himself fall limp again into Seunghyun’s arms, completely drained of all energy.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just cleaning us up.”

Seunghyun’s voice is so instantly comforting to Jiyong. It makes his heart feel so full. He hears the sound of something hitting the floor and then Seunghyun is shifting the two of them more towards one side of the bed, away from the dirtied part of the sheets. He pulls the blanket up around them again and Jiyong curls up in his arms, feeling Seunghyun start to stroke his hair. His eyes open, groggily, fixating on Seunghyun’s face. He looks so beautiful, Jiyong thinks, dimly lit by the lights from the city below that peek through the windows. Jiyong trails his gaze all over Seunghyun, studies his gorgeous eyes, his long eyelashes, his angled eyebrows, the plane of his pointed nose, his pretty, soft lips that quirk up into a smile.

“Hi, beautiful. What are you thinking?”

Jiyong blushes and smiles, caught staring. He still can’t quite get it together to speak so instead he averts Seunghyun’s gaze and pushes his face against his neck, leaving a kiss there.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Jiyong feels the vibration of Seunghyun’s voice in his lips, still pressed up against his throat. All he can manage is a hum and a half-nod.

“Comfortable?”

He nods again.

“Not too warm?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Do you need anything?”

“You,” he murmurs, half-whispering, his vocal cords shot from overuse. He feels so sleepy.

Seunghyun giggles, sounding just as care-free as Jiyong feels. “You’re so cute right now.”

“Mmph. Y’r so nice. I love you,” Jiyong slurs out drunkenly. “You think yr a bad person but yr not…’s alright…I love you…”

“..I love you too, Ji.”

If Jiyong was more than half awake he would’ve noticed Seunghyun’s smile turning to a frown, or the tremble in his voice, but he’s too far gone to detect it. Though he can still barely put together a coherent thought or get his limbs to work, words keep spilling out of his mouth with ease, his heart feeling too full to keep it all inside.

“Love you sooo much. F’r the rest ‘f my life. Y’made mistakes, who cares. You sh’ld be happy, you deserve it. Y’r a good man. Feel safe with you…I love you.”

He really hopes Seunghyun knows how loved he is, how he’s forgiven. Seunghyun tightens his grip around Jiyong, a good sign, squeezing him as close to his chest as he possibly can, and starts massaging his scalp with his fingertips. It’s the final nail in the coffin for Jiyong. He lets his eyes fall shut for good this time.

“Jiyong-ah…go to sleep. I’ll be here.” Seunghyun kisses Jiyong’s forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight,” he lulls, and Jiyong lets the next wave of exhaustion that crashes over him carry him out to sea before he can hear anything else Seunghyun has to say about it.