Archive of Our Own

The clock on the wall glared back at Geonwoo like a cruel judge, each tick and tock echoing the weight of his responsibilities. It was 1 AM, and he was the only one left in the office, slaving away at his desk. His eyes, red and dry from staring at the computer screen for hours. The fluorescent lights overhead cast long shadows across his face, accentuating the deep creases of exhaustion.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, stretching his tired arms above his head. A yawn escaped his lips, and for a moment, he let his eyes flutter closed. The world around him melted away—the sterile office air, the hum of the AC, the endless paperwork. 

His eyelids sprang open, and he sat bolt upright. Work wasn't finished yet. As always, his colleagues had left early, dumping their tasks on him. He was the reliable one, the one who was too afraid to say no, more concerned about what others would think than about his own well-being.

The fear of what others might think, of their potential disappointment or disapproval, had become a cage he dared not escape.

The fluorescent light overhead flickered, his computer beeped softly, a reminder of the task at hand. But Geonwoo's mind wandered, he was a cog in a machine, a replaceable part in a corporate behemoth. Was this all there was to life?

As the minutes ticked by, Geonwoo's breathing grew heavier, until finally, his eyelids drooped shut, and he drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep, his question echoing in his mind.

"What am I even doing with my life?" 

The silence of the office became his only companion, a stark contrast to the chaos of his thoughts.

Then the sudden vibration of his phone jolted Geonwoo out of his brief slumber. He sat up with a start, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His fingers fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone with a soft beep. As the screen lit up, a flurry of notifications greeted him.

“happy birthday, kim geonwoo!” from Sangwon.

“Happy 25th birthday, Kim Geonwoo! You're old as fuck” from Anxin.

Geonwoo's eyes widened as he scrolled through the messages, a sudden realization dawning on him—it was his birthday. He had forgotten, lost in the haze of work and exhaustion. 

With a tired sigh, he tapped out a quick reply to the group chat.

“Thank you, guys!”

Seconds later, Anxin's response popped up on the screen.

“You're still at work, aren't you?”

Geonwoo could almost hear the concern in his words. Before he could respond, Sangwon chimed in. 

“of course, he is”

Geonwoo couldn't help but chuckle, despite his exhaustion. He typed out a reply.

“Yeah, I'm still here but I'm finishing up, why?”

The response was immediate from Sangwon.

“every time we catch up, you always say you're still at work, you're technically married to your job at this point”

Geonwoo shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Sangwon wasn't wrong, was he?

Geonwoo's fingers flew across the screen as he replied to his friends.

“I'm just hardworking” 

But before he could even send the message, Anxin's response popped up, cutting him off.

“Hard working my ass, just say you can't say no to your fuckass coworkers, that's why they keep dumping their work on you”

Sangwon chimed in a moment later, his words echoing Anxin's sentiment.

“right, they're the reason why we can't see each other often. they've got you on a leash, dude” 

Geonwoo couldn't help but chuckle at their words, despite the sting of truth to them but he shook his head, his fingers tapping out a reply.

“I'm all good, don't worry about me. Just trying to get some work done”

But Sangwon wasn't letting it go that easily. 

“what time are you out?” 

Geonwoo glanced at the time on his computer—1:23 AM. Not much longer now. He typed out a reply.

“Maybe 1:45 AM” 

And before he could even consider the implications, Sangwon's next message landed. 

“let's go drink”

Geonwoo hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen. It was his birthday, after all. Maybe it wasn't so bad to let loose for one night. To forget, just for a little while, about the stack of papers and endless deadlines waiting for him. He took a deep breath, then typed out a reply.

“Okay, send me the location”

The dimly lit barbecue joint hummed with the gentle sizzle of meat and the muted murmur of conversation. Geonwoo settled into his seat, the steam rising from the grill in front of him, carrying with it the savory scents of marinated meat and the sweet tang of alcohol. 

Anxin raised his bottle, his voice ringing out across the table. “Cheers to 25 years of Geonwoo being alive!”

Geonwoo laughed, the deep timbre of his voice mingling with Sangwon's chuckle. The two friends clinked their bottles together, and in unison, they each took a swig. The alcohol burned down Geonwoo's throat, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. He had forgotten how it tasted, how it felt coursing through his veins.

Anxin spoke up, his voice tinged with curiosity. “What's your plan for your birthday?” 

Geonwoo shrugged, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Probably just going to work.”

Sangwon burst out laughing. “You're corny as fuck, Geonwoo!”

“I'm telling the truth!” Geonwoo protested, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. 

Anxin looked disappointed, but not surprised. “Seriously?” 

Geonwoo nodded, spearing a piece of grilled meat onto his plate. The savory flavors danced on his tongue, a brief distraction from the weight of his words. Sangwon shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. 

If Geonwoo had a choice, he would've probably resigned by now. But choices seemed like luxuries he couldn't afford, not when the weight of others' expectations hung heavy over his shoulders. He glanced at his friends, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the grill, and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to break free.

As they sat amidst the steam and the savory aroma of grilled meat, Anxin spoke up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you're not just going to work today.”

Geonwoo looked up, confusion etched across his features. “What?”

Sangwon's eyes widened, and with a swift motion, he smacked Anxin on the arm. “What did I do wrong?” Anxin asked, turning towards Sangwon with a look of mock innocence. 

Geonwoo tilted his head, gripping his bottle tighter. “What's going on?”

Sangwon shot Anxin a pointed look. “Did you actually do it?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Anxin smiled, the mischief in his eyes growing more pronounced. “What? It's a birthday gift.”

Geonwoo's brow furrowed, his confusion deepening. “Can anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?” he asked, exasperation lacing his tone. Sangwon rolled his eyes at Anxin, who just chuckled softly.

Anxin's smile grew wider, an almost devious twinkle lighting up his eyes. “It's been a long time since you hooked up with someone, right?” 

Geonwoo's eyes widened, a flush rising to his cheeks. “Lower your voice, you didn't have to say it out loud like that.”

“It's the truth, isn't it?” Anxin replied, his voice tinged with a playful jab. “Did you hook up with your coworkers?” 

Geonwoo shook his head vehemently before downing another swig of his drink. “No,” he said, chuckling softly. “Most, most of them are old as fuck, why would I even hook up with them?”

Sangwon let out a burst of laughter, while Anxin grinned, clearly pleased with himself. But beneath his playful demeanor, Geonwoo could sense a deeper meaning to Anxin's words.

Anxin leaned forward, his voice rising from excitement. “Well, Geonwoo, I have a little surprise for you.” 

Geonwoo tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “What is it?” He raised his bottle to his mouth, waiting for Anxin's response.

“I set you up with someone,” Anxin said, his voice carrying across the table. The words caught Geonwoo off guard, the alcohol in his mouth suddenly becoming a burning obstruction in his throat. He choked, spitting out the drink in surprise. It splattered across the table, earning a disgusted look from Sangwon.

Sangwon immediately moved back, his face contorted in distaste. “Gross!” he exclaimed, reaching for a napkin. Anxin, on the other hand, burst into laughter, clearly amused by the reaction. Geonwoo coughed, struggling to catch his breath. Sangwon handed him a glass of water, which he drank greedily.

As he finally regained his composure, Geonwoo turned to Anxin, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?” he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity. 

Anxin smiled eagerly, nodding his head. “Yeah, well, I set the time at 8 in the evening because I know you'd rather go to work, so I set the time when your shift ends. It's perfect timing, don't you think?”

Geonwoo's mouth hung open, disbelief etched across his features. “You fucking set me up with someone?” he repeated, his voice rising in pitch. 

Anxin shrugged nonchalantly, his smile unwavering. “That's my gift to you, I'm being generous even, because I set it up for when your work ends.”

The implications sank in slowly, like a slow-burning fire igniting within Geonwoo's chest. 

A hook up?

With someone he had never met before? 

Geonwoo's face contorted in disbelief as he looked at Anxin, a laugh bubbling out of him. “You're fucking with me, this is all just bullshit, you're bullshitting me.” 

But Anxin just laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I'm not, I'm telling the truth, right, Sangwon?” he asked, turning to their friend expectantly. 

Sangwon shook his head as he took a swig of his drink. “I'm not going to be involved in this.”

Anxin plopped his arm across Sangwon's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “Come on, have my back here!” But Sangwon remained uncooperative, his eyes avoiding Geonwoo's inquiring gaze.

Geonwoo's gaze pinned Sangwon, his brow furrowed in disappointment. “So, you knew about this?”

Sangwon shook his head vigorously. “I didn't plan it.”

The denial was immediate, but Geonwoo pressed on, his voice tinged with accusation. “But you knew!”

Sangwon sighed, setting his bottle down with a clink. “I didn't know Anxin would actually do it, you know his dumbass always leans in with his stupid decisions.” 

“Wow, you guys are really hurting my feelings,” Anxin said, his voice dripping with mock hurt.

Geonwoo spoke up again, a note of irritation in his voice. “You should've told me about it first.”

Anxin rolled his eyes, the action exaggerated in its dramatic flair. “Then it's not a surprise anymore! That's why it's a birthday gift.” He smiled, seemingly unfazed by the tension he had created.

Geonwoo shook his head, taking a long swig from his bottle. Maybe this was all just a stupid joke, a cruel prank to liven up his monotonous life. He needed to wake up from it, to snap back to reality.

But then Anxin spoke up again, his voice carrying across the table with an air of seriousness. “Geonwoo, I'm telling the truth by the way.” Geonwoo sighed, gripping his bottle tightly as the realization sunk in—this was no joke.

“Fuck my life,” Geonwoo mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. He looked up at Anxin, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who even is it? Is it a girl?”

Anxin let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing across the small restaurant. “Obviously not, you're gay,” he said with a chuckle. 

Geonwoo shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you were going to set me up with some girl.”

Sangwon chimed in with a smirk. “Maybe in another universe.” Geonwoo chuckled, a soft sound that barely escaped his lips.

Anxin continued, his voice filled with excitement. “It's a guy, so you don't have to worry about it. And it's been a long time, right?”

Geonwoo's brow furrowed in question. “Been a long time of what?” 

The answer was immediate. “Since you've had sex, Geonwoo.” 

Sangwon burst into laughter at Geonwoo's shocked expression. Geonwoo shot Anxin a disapproving look. “Don't fucking say it so casually, we're in a public place, Anxin.”

Anxin just chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, but that's besides the point. And I know I'm right.” The conviction in his voice was unwavering, leaving Geonwoo no choice but to accept the reality of the situation.

Anxin's words tumbled out in a rush, filled with both excitement and a hint of desperation. “I paid for it, everything, so all you have to do is show up and have fun.”

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, a skeptical look crossing his face. “What if I didn't go?”

Anxin's expression fell, his lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. “Then I'll be very sad,” he said, his voice tinged with mock sorrow. 

Sangwon shot him an annoyed look, but Anxin just continued, his enthusiasm unwavering. “Just go, okay? I'm sure you'll have fun.”

Geonwoo hesitated, his leg bouncing in. “Can I even see who it is?”

The question hung in the air, only to be immediately dismissed by Anxin's shake of the head. “No, and I actually don't even know who it is either... but he's your type? I think?”

The vague assurance did little to quell Geonwoo's apprehensions. He took a long swig from his bottle, the alcohol burning down his throat. This was going to be a lot—a lot to handle. Hooking up with a complete stranger, someone he had never met before. The thought sent trepidation coursing through his veins.

It had been a long time, 5 years to be exact. Work had consumed his life so thoroughly that he had almost forgotten he had one outside the sterile confines of his office. But the point remained—this was a total stranger, hired specifically by Anxin for his birthday. Had Anxin gone to a gay bar to find a whore? Is the guy a whore? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Geonwoo's mind raced with questions, each one leading to more doubts. What did this person look like? Was he even good at sex? And what about protection? The more he thought about it, the more his nerves seemed to fray. 

Zhou Anxin, you're fucking dead to me.

As the day ticked by, Geonwoo's mind continued to drift, his thoughts consumed by Anxin's 'gift'. His eyes glazed over, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him. The words blurred together, his brain unable to focus. He had two hours until his shift was supposed to end, but his mind was already elsewhere.

Should he even go? No, a part of him screamed. He wasn't interested in some random hook-up arranged by Anxin's misguided kindness. But another part of him, a larger part, seemed to win out. Anxin had paid for it, after all. The money would go to waste if Geonwoo didn't show up. And the person... they would wait for him, expecting something that Geonwoo wasn't sure he could deliver.

He groaned softly, frustration evident in his voice. Why was he such a people pleaser? Why did he always feel obligated to fulfill others' expectations at the cost of his own desires? He sighed, glancing at the time—6:30 PM. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did he do this? Should he go? Did he need to go? 

Just as Geonwoo was starting to lose himself in his thoughts again, a tap on his shoulder made him flinch. He turned quickly, his heart racing slightly, to see his boss standing behind him. Geonwoo managed a weak smile. “Good evening, sir.”

His boss's expression softened, a hint of recognition crossing his features. “It's your birthday today, isn't it?” 

Geonwoo nodded slowly, unsure where this conversation was going. Before he could think better of it, he spoke up, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and hope. “Sir?”

His boss tilted his head slightly, confusion etched across his features. Geonwoo hesitated, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Can I go home early? I have some errands at home.” The request hung in the air, Geonwoo's heart pounding in anticipation.

For what felt like an eternity, his boss said nothing. Then, in a moment of pure serendipity, he nodded. “Alright.” Geonwoo's breath escaped him in a rush as he nodded, a silent thank you forming on his lips.

The neon lights of the hotel sign illuminated the darkening evening sky. “OMG Love Hotel” it read, in bold, cursive letters. Geonwoo sighed, his eyes darting from the sign to his phone screen. Is this even the right place? The thought echoed in his mind, a lingering doubt that refused to dissipate. He wasn't lost, he was certain of that. The GPS had led him here directly.

But as he looked around the area, a shiver ran down his spine. It wasn't sketchy, per se, but there was something about the quietness of the street, the dim lighting, that seemed to whisper warnings in his ear. Geonwoo took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to happen. He had to do this, for Anxin, and maybe, just maybe, for himself too.

Geonwoo stepped inside, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh. The lobby was quiet, almost eerily so. The receptionist, a woman with a kind smile, greeted him warmly. “Good evening, sir. How can I help you?”

Geonwoo smiled back, a bit awkwardly, his nerves betraying his attempt at composure. “Hello, good evening. Reservation for room 411?” 

The woman nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard of the computer in front of her. “Let me check,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the screen. Then, looking back up at Geonwoo. “Reservation for Kim Geonwoo?”

Geonwoo nodded, his heart pounding just a bit harder in his chest. The woman's smile grew wider. “Your room is ready. Here's the card.” She handed him a plastic keycard, her voice continuing in a steady stream. “The elevator is on the left side.”

“Thank you,” Geonwoo replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He took the card, his fingers closing around it like a lifeline. Geonwoo turned towards the elevators, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft beep, and Geonwoo stepped inside, his heart pounding in anticipation. The ride to the 4th floor was short, each ticking second feeling like an eternity to Geonwoo's racing mind. When the doors finally opened again, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what awaited him.

Room 411 was just down the hall, its door blending seamlessly into the sterile hotel decor. Geonwoo walked, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached the room. He inserted the key card, the click of the lock disengaging echoing loudly in the quiet hallway. He took another deep breath, then pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, a soft red glow emanating from the bedside table lamps. The bed, large and inviting, dominated the space. Geonwoo's eyes roamed the room, taking in the familiar setup of a love hotel—the full length mirror against one wall, the whirlpool bathtub visible through the partially open bathroom door.

Geonwoo dropped his bag onto the table, settling onto the edge of the bed. His hands caressed the smooth fabric, feeling the softness of it beneath his fingertips. It was plush, inviting, and for a moment, he let himself sink into its comfort, forgetting the anxiety that had been plaguing him all day.

But as he checked the time on his phone—7:30 PM, reality crashed back in. Just 30 minutes until... whatever this was supposed to be. 

He stood up, a sudden memory hitting him—Anxin's words about his style being too old, too boring. His wardrobe, filled with nothing but polos for work. Anxin had lent him an outfit, insisting he needed to “upgrade” his look.

Geonwoo grabbed his bag and began rummaging through it. Anxin's outfit was at the bottom, neatly folded in a separate plastic bag. Geonwoo pulled it out, then stepped into the bathroom, the cool tile beneath his feet a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed he had just left behind.

As he changed into the borrowed clothes, Geonwoo couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. A white tank top, layered under a semi-sheer, off-white crew neck shirt, paired with grey trousers. It was a look he had never worn before, one that made him feel almost... soft, vulnerable. Not like himself at all.

Geonwoo took a deep breath, stepping out of the bathroom to face the mirror hung on the wall. The reflection that stared back at him was unfamiliar, yet undeniably him. The fabric draped across his shoulders in a way that was both new and strangely endearing. He looked softer, yes, but perhaps, in a good way.

Geonwoo took a deep breath before stepping back onto the bed, his eyes scanning the room once more. The dim lighting, the soft glow of the lamps, it all seemed to create an intimate atmosphere, one that made him feel both nervous and alone. Then his gaze landed on the wine bottle sitting on the table, and he hesitated for a moment.

Why was he so nervous about this? He wasn't some naive virgin, yet the prospect of hooking up with a complete stranger seemed to send his nerves into overdrive. Fuck this, he thought to himself, his frustration and anxiety boiling over. But as he looked back at the wine, he found himself moving towards it, almost as if drawn by an unseen force.

He grabbed the bottle, holding it in his hands for a long moment, his heart racing in his chest. Then, he headed towards the kitchen, the wine bottle clutched tightly in his grasp. He grabbed a glass from the counter, his movements mechanical, almost robotic.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the wine, the cork popping out with a satisfying sound. He poured himself a generous amount, the liquid sloshing into the glass with a soothing murmur. The person wouldn't mind if he drank a bit, right? He just needed to get his head straight, to calm his nerves and remind himself why he was here in the first place.

Geonwoo tossed back the entire contents of the glass, the bitter taste hitting his tongue like a slap. He set the glass down on the counter, a heat radiating from his chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. He poured himself another glass, his hand shaking slightly as he did so.

Downing the second glass, the alcohol coursed through his veins, its familiar warmth slowly dulling his edges, calming his nerves. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, he thought, a faint smile playing on his lips. Maybe he could get through this night without losing himself completely.

Geonwoo wasn't quite sure how many glasses he had lost count of by now. The bottle of wine, once full and promising, was now nearly empty, a testament to his growing anxiety and self-doubt. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head blank, his mind a jumble of thoughts and fears.

Geonwoo glanced at the clock on the bedside table—8:19PM. Huh? Was the person even going to show up? He chuckled bitterly, the sound barely escaping his lips. Even here, in this place of supposed pleasure, he was practically abandoned.

Just as the thought was forming, a sudden knock at the door made Geonwoo's head snap up. His heart began to race anew, his nerves suddenly on high alert. He stood up quickly, almost too quickly, and made his way to the door. His hand reached out for the doorknob, but then, inexplicably, he hesitated.

Why was he hesitating? This was what he had come here for, right? Geonwoo pushed the thought aside. “Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath. He opened the door, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the door swung open, Geonwoo found himself staring up at a man who seemed to fill the entire frame. His gaze began at the man's feet, clad in black boots that seemed to add inches to his already imposing height. It traveled up to the loose black slacks that hugged his thighs perfectly, to the black polo shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal skinny slightly muscular arms.

Finally, Geonwoo's eyes met the man's face—undercut black hair with a tint of red, sharp nose, big eyes that seemed to bore into him, plump lips that looked inviting even in their stillness. Geonwoo blinked, surprised at himself for noticing so much detail despite his slightly inebriated state.

As Geonwoo's gaze held the man's, he noticed something peculiar in his expression—surprise, shock even. The man's eyes widened as they met Geonwoo's, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other in silence. Geonwoo's eyebrows furrowed slightly, confusion beginning to bloom in his mind.

He took a deep breath, shaking off the haze of the wine that still lingered in his head. He spoke up. “You're… you're probably the guy, right?” The question hung in the air, the man's response conspicuous in its absence.

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, a wave of frustration washing over him. Great, just what he needed—a shy hook-up on his birthday. Let's just get this over with. Geonwoo grabbed the man's wrist, pulling him inside. The man stumbled slightly, his eyes still wide with what looked like disbelief.

Geonwoo closed the door behind them, the soft click of the lock engaging echoing through the silent room. He walked past the man, his footsteps heavy with anticipation and nerves. “Let's sit first,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. Geonwoo settled onto the bed, his back straight and his hands clasped together in front of him.

The man followed slowly, sitting down beside Geonwoo with a quiet grace. Geonwoo's eyes drifted down, his head reeling from the effects of the wine. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before looking up to meet the man's curious gaze.

“So, are we just going to start with it or what?” Geonwoo asked, his tone brusque and slightly bitter. The man didn't respond, his eyes darting across Geonwoo's face as if searching for something. Geonwoo tilted his head slightly, confusion etched across his features.

Does he even know why he's here? Had Anxin not told him? Was this some kind of mistake? The questions swirled in his head, each one more bewildering than the last.

Geonwoo broke the silence, his voice a bit softer than before. “What's your name?” The question was an attempt to lighten the mood, a way to break the ice between two strangers about to embark on an intimate encounter. 

The man tilted his head slightly, a brow furrowing as if deep in thought. Then, in a voice so low it was almost soft, he spoke. “Arno.”

Geonwoo nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Geonwoo.”

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever, the only sound the quiet hum of the hotel's air conditioning. Is this how it was supposed to go? Geonwoo wondered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his mind. He had expected something more, something less… awkward.

Taking a deep breath, Geonwoo spoke up again, his voice filling the quiet room. “It's my birthday.” 

Arno's eyebrows lifted slightly at this, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “Really?”

Geonwoo hummed softly, his eyes meeting Arno's across the narrow distance between them. “That's why I'm here, Arno. Happy birthday to me, right?” The last part was said with a bitter tone, a laugh that sounded more like a snort escaping his lips.

As Geonwoo held Arno's gaze, he noticed the way the other man's eyes seemed to roam across his face. Arno's gaze was intense, his eyes drinking in every detail—the shape of Geonwoo's eyes, the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips. Geonwoo felt a flush rise to his cheeks, his heart pounding slightly faster at the intensity of the scrutiny.

He looked away, scoffing softly under his breath. This guy is really teasing me tonight. He risked another glance at Arno, he saw something there that gave him pause—a look that was both familiar and alien, a look that seemed to say something more than just physical attraction.

Arno's voice cut through the tension, his words a blunt reminder of the reason they were both there. “Is that why you're here? To have sex?” The question was so straightforward, so unvarnished, that Geonwoo felt himself taken aback. His eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

Arno chuckled at Geonwoo's reaction, his arms stretching out behind him as he leaned back slightly. The movement accentuated his broad shoulders, his chest pressing against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I mean… this is a love hotel,” Geonwoo replied, his voice shaking slightly. “Of course people are here to have sex.” The words sounded more like a question than a statement, his uncertainty plain on his face.

Arno smiled, a small, amused smile. “Alright.” But there was something in his tone that made Geonwoo's heart race, a challenge almost. 

He turned to Arno, his eyes expectant, and spoke up again. “Are we not going to do anything?”

Arno leaned forward, his tone almost teasing. “Going to do what?” 

Geonwoo's brow furrowed in frustration. “Did you forget why you're here? My friend paid for you and what? You want me to do all the work?”

Arno's eyebrows lifted slightly at Geonwoo's outburst, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Your friend paid me?” 

Geonwoo nodded eagerly, his annoyance evident in every line of his body. Then, rolling his eyes, he muttered under his breath. “You're insanely handsome but it looks like you're sick in the head.”

The comment seemed to catch Arno off guard, a laugh escaping his lips. He leaned forward even more, too close to Geonwoo. “Oh?” he said, his voice low and husky. “And what exactly makes you think I'm sick in the head?”

Geonwoo's frustration boiled over, his words spilling out in a rush. “Well, you're here, you came here, which means you know what you're supposed to do. And suddenly, you don't? I don't know if you're just dumb or you're teasing me.” 

Arno's laughter cut through the tension, the sound warm and rich. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Teasing you, huh? I'm not even doing anything yet.” The comment sent a flush rising to Geonwoo's cheeks, his anger and frustration mingling with something else, something he dared not name.

“If I had known that Anxin booked someone like you to test my patience,” Geonwoo snapped, his voice tight with emotion, “I wouldn't have come here.” He glared at Arno, daring him to respond, to say something, anything, to break this spell of uncertainty that had fallen over them.

But instead of the expected retort, Arno's voice came soft, questioning. “Do you really want to do it?” The words were like a slap, sudden and unexpected. Geonwoo froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared into Arno's eyes.

Why was he hesitating now? Why, after everything, did this question make him pause? Arno spoke up again, his voice low, intimate. “Geonwoo?” The use of his name was like a jolt, sending electricity running through Geonwoo's veins.

Geonwoo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let's… let's drink some wine first.” The suggestion hung in the air, a desperate bid to slow down the moment, to buy himself some more time.

Arno tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning Geonwoo's expression. For a moment, there was silence, a tension that seemed to pulse through the room. Then, softly, Arno replied. “Okay.”

Arno stood up, his movements fluid and graceful. He scanned the room, his eyes roving over every surface as if searching for something. “Where is it? The wine.” he asked, his head turning back to Geonwoo.

Geonwoo's eyes remained downcast, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied. “We need to order a new one.”

Arno's brow furrowed slightly, confusion evident on his face. “A new one?”

The question hung in the air, inviting explanation. Geonwoo's cheeks flushed, his voice still soft as he clarified. “Because I emptied out the one they gave us earlier.” The admission was almost shameful, the alcohol's effects on his nerves evident in every word.

Arno chuckled softly at this, the sound rich and warm. “Alright, I'll do it.” He walked over to the side of the bed, lifting the receiver of the landline phone. As he dialed and spoke to the room service, Geonwoo watched him, his eyes drinking in the sight.

As Arno dialed, his body language was relaxed, his posture open and casual. He leaned slightly on the table as he spoke to the staff, his voice low and smooth. Geonwoo watched him, unable to tear his gaze away. Arno seemed so comfortable, so at ease in this situation. 

Did Arno do this often? 

Did his handsome face and well-toned physique often lead him to situations like this?

He had probably done this many times before, Geonwoo thought to himself, his mind wandering to the implications of such a thought. 

Arno's physique, evident even under his clothes, seemed to attest to this theory. The way his shirt fit snugly across his broad shoulders, the way his trousers hugged his thighs just right. 

Geonwoo watched Arno's figure, his gaze lingering on the way the clothes hugged his body. He dared not imagine what lay beneath, but his mind was quick to paint vivid pictures. 

Geonwoo felt a flush rise to his cheeks at the direction of his thoughts, forcing himself to look away, his heart pounding slightly harder in his chest. 

When Arno finished his call, he dropped the receiver and came back to sit beside Geonwoo on the bed. “They'll be here in 3 minutes,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

The words seemed to hang in the air, a countdown to what was to come.

Geonwoo settled into his seat, his eyes fixed on the table as Arno poured wine into their glasses. The sound of the liquid hitting the bottom of the glasses was soothing, a gentle accompaniment to the tension in the room. Arno settled into his chair across from Geonwoo, his gaze never leaving Geonwoo's face.

Despite the distance between them, Geonwoo could feel Arno's presence radiating through the small space. It was as if the man had an aura about him, a warmth that seemed to envelop everything around him. Geonwoo finally looked up, meeting Arno's eyes across the narrow gap between them. Arno was drinking from his glass, his eyes fixated on Geonwoo even as he sipped his wine.

Feeling a bit self-conscious under the scrutiny, Geonwoo picked up his own glass. He took a sip, the bitter taste of the wine familiar on his tongue. The silence stretched out between them, a thick, heavy thing that seemed to pulse with unspoken words.

Arno spoke first, breaking the silence with his smooth, low voice. “So, it's your birthday? How old are you then?” 

Geonwoo's mouth opened, ready to reply with his age. But then he remembered—this man was a complete stranger, here to fulfill a transaction. 

A hook-up, nothing more.

Instead of answering, Geonwoo tilted his head slightly. “How old do you think I am?” The question hung in the air, a challenge issued.

Arno tilted his head slightly, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as he considered the question. Then, with a small smile, he replied. “22?” 

Geonwoo let out a chuckle, the sound surprising even himself. “You don't have to flatter me.”

Arno's brow furrowed slightly. “You're not 22?” Geonwoo shook his head, and Arno tried again. “Then you're 21?” But when Geonwoo shook his head a second time, Arno's eyes widened in surprise. “You're not… you're not 18, aren't you?”

The suggestion was absurd enough that Geonwoo burst into laughter, his hand hitting the table in amusement. Arno looked at him confused, clearly not understanding the joke. As Geonwoo continued to laugh, his heart pounding in his chest from the absurdity of it all—this birthday might just turn out to be more interesting than he had anticipated.

Geonwoo's laughter finally subsided, and he took a sip of his wine, savoring the bitter taste on his tongue. As he set the glass down, he met Arno's expectant gaze. “You're getting interesting, Arno,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Arno leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding an undeniable intensity. “Tell me how old you are.” 

Geonwoo took a deep breath, a moment of hesitation before the words spilled out. “I turned 25 today.”

The reaction was instantaneous. Arno's mouth fell open, surprise written plain across his features. Geonwoo noticed it and replied almost defensively. “What? You think I'm lying?”

Arno's response came with a laugh. “Fuck yeah, you look younger. So much younger.” His eyes scanned Geonwoo's face as if searching for signs of age, for hints that he wasn't telling the truth.

Geonwoo shook his head slightly. “Well, I'm not.”

A small smile played on Arno's lips. "We're not that far off from age then." 

Geonwoo's eyebrow shot up, curiosity getting the better of him. “How old are you?”

Arno smirked, leaning back in his chair. “How old do you think I am?” 

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, looking away in frustration. Of course, he would do this.

Turning back to Arno, he spoke up. “You're 21?” 

Arno chuckled, the sound warm and rich. “Much older than 21.” 

Geonwoo tilted his head, a question evident in his expression. “Much older?”

Arno simply nodded, taking a sip of his wine before adding. “Mhm.”

Geonwoo's brow furrowed as he tried to guess. “25?” he ventured, but Arno shook his head. 

“I'm 28,” the older man revealed, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Geonwoo felt like he had been punched in the gut, the information unexpected and jarring. “You're 28 years old?! I thought you were younger than me.” 

His reaction was so intense that Arno couldn't help but smile. “I'm glad I'm not.”

Geonwoo's voice was soft, a mixture of surprise and amusement. “But you look actually much younger than your age, like a lot, a lot.” 

Arno took a sip of his wine, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “That's a compliment, right?” 

Geonwoo chuckled, the sound light. “Of course it is.”

The silence that followed was a comfortable one, the only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioning. It stretched on for a while, each man lost in his own thoughts. Then, Arno spoke up, his voice low, smooth. “I'm older than you.”

Geonwoo's response was automatic, simple. “Yeah?” 

But Arno wasn't done yet. He continued, a smirk playing on his lips. “That means you have to call me 'hyung'.” The word hung in the air, a challenge issued.

Geonwoo froze, his mind racing with the implications. What had he gotten himself into? He turned to Arno, who was looking at him with expectant eyes, his body language relaxed but his gaze intense. Geonwoo looked away, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

Arno spoke up again, his voice low, persuasive. “Come on, Geonwoo. Do you wanna be disrespectful to someone older than you?”

Geonwoo looked back at Arno, his expression annoyed. “What? Am I not right?” Arno's eyes sparkled with mischief. 

Geonwoo called out, “Arno—” but before he could continue, Arno interrupted. “Arno hyung, call me hyung.” 

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, looking away as he gripped his wine glass tightly in his hand. This guy was really testing him tonight, pushing boundaries with every word, every gesture.

Geonwoo's eyes drifted back to Arno, a mixture of frustration and fascination crossing his face. He looked at the man, really looked at him, taking in the sharp lines of his face, the intense gaze of his eyes, the smirk that seemed to promise so much and yet so little.

“Hyung,” Geonwoo finally said, the word feeling strange on his lips. 

Arno's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, a small nod of approval. “That's good,” he said, his voice low, husky. “I'm glad you're learning quickly.”

The comment sent a shiver down Geonwoo's spine, the words dancing with implications. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts and questions and doubts. This guy is really getting on my nerves.

As he turned back to Arno, he saw the man standing up, his movements fluid, graceful. “Let's get drunk,” Arno said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “It's your birthday, after all. We should celebrate.”

Geonwoo watched him, mesmerized, as Arno picked up the wine bottle and poured more wine into their glasses. He felt a hand reaching for his, pulling him up from his seat. Geonwoo stumbled slightly, his feet tangling with the chair legs, but before he could fall, Arno caught him, steadying him against his strong body.

“Whoa—” Geonwoo breathed, his hands gripping Arno's arms to keep his balance. He looked up, meeting Arno's gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing else but the two of them, lost in the intensity of their stare.

Then, Arno spoke up, his voice low, soft. “You okay?”

Geonwoo nodded, still holding onto Arno's arms. He felt steady now, but a part of him didn't want to let go. The warmth of Arno's body, the strength in his arms, it was a comforting embrace that made Geonwoo feel safe, secure.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I'm fine.” But even as he spoke, his eyes never left Arno's face. They seemed to be searching for something, questioning the situation, the man before him.

Arno's gaze held his, intense and unblinking. For a moment, they just stood there, the only movement the slight rising and falling of their chests as they breathed. Then, slowly, Arno let Geonwoo go, his hands sliding down Geonwoo's arms to his wrists, then finally dropping away.

“Good,” Arno said, his voice a little softer than before. “Let's drink then.” He stepped back, and held out the glass of wine.

Geonwoo took it, his fingers brushing against Arno's. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through his body, a shiver running down his spine. He looked up at Arno, his heart pounding in his chest.

Then, as if breaking free from a spell, Geonwoo turned away. He took a sip of his wine, feeling the liquid burn down his throat. When he turned back to Arno, he saw the man watching him, a small smile playing on his lips.

“To your birthday,” Arno said, his voice low, smooth. “May all your dreams come true tonight.” His words were like a promise, a challenge, a question all rolled into one. As he clinked his glass against Geonwoo's, their eyes met, and for a moment, there was no need for words. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a living, breathing thing that hung between them.

The wine's effects didn't take long to manifest, Geonwoo's words flowing freely as the liquid coursed through his veins. They were sitting beside each other now, close enough that their thighs touched, their arms brushing against each other. The proximity was almost overwhelming, the heat of Arno's body warming Geonwoo to his very core.

Geonwoo had his knees on the chair, hugging it tightly as if it was his lifeline. He poured his heart out, telling Arno everything—about his job, about his feelings, about his fears and dreams. Arno listened intently, his eyes never leaving Geonwoo's face, his arms stretched out on the back of Geonwoo's chair, almost touching his neck.

“I'm so stupid,” Geonwoo said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “I graduated with latin honors—summa cum laude to be exact—just to be some kind of pushover at work.” 

Arno's response was immediate, his voice soft, gentle. “You're not stupid, you're just too kind.” The words were like a balm to Geonwoo's soul, a reassurance that he hadn't heard in a long, long time.

Geonwoo chuckled, the sound bitter. “I'm not kind, not at all. If you know what I've written in my diaries…” He let the sentence trail off, a secret kept hidden behind unspoken words.

Arno's curiosity was piqued. “What did you write?” His voice was a low hum, inviting, enticing. 

Geonwoo scoffed, taking a sip of his wine before speaking. “If I told you, you'd get the ick at me.”

But Arno just chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I'm too entranced by you now. No such thing would get me the ick.” The words sent a flush rising to Geonwoo's cheeks, his heart pounding in his chest. How could Arno say such embarrassing things with such ease?

“What did you write, Geonwoo?” Arno pressed, his voice low, insistent. Geonwoo felt himself sinking deeper into the chair, the wine's warmth spreading through his body, lowering his defenses one sip at a time.

Geonwoo hesitated, the wine's warmth spreading through his body, loosening his inhibitions. He looked at Arno, a mixture of embarrassment and reluctance crossing his face. “Like.. I hope they got fired from work or I don't know,” he admitted finally, taking a sip of his wine as if the liquid could wash away his confession.

Arno's eyebrows shot up, his voice laced with surprise. “Seriously?” 

Geonwoo nodded, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I know, I know, it's bad, right? I told you.” He sounded like a child confessing to a mischief.

But instead of the expected censure, Arno chuckled, the sound low and amused. “No, no, it's not bad, not at all, Geonwoo.” He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You think that's bad? You're too kind. I would've wished they die or something.”

Geonwoo's eyes widened at Arno's words. “Really?” His voice was a question, disbelief laced through it. 

Arno repeated himself. “Really?” He leaned back slightly, his arms stretching out behind him. “You think wishing someone got fired is bad? That's cute.”

Geonwoo sighed, rolling his eyes. “I mean, they just piled their work on me, sometimes they get mad when I do it wrong, that doesn't mean I want them dead.” His words were defensive, a justification of his feelings.

Arno listened intently, an amused expression written all over his face. Geonwoo noticed it and felt his cheeks flush. “What?” he asked, his voice a little softer than before.

Arno shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Nothing. I just think that you're adorable.” The word hung in the air, a compliment wrapped in a challenge. Geonwoo felt his heart race at the realization, the knowledge that Arno saw him in a way he hadn't expected, a way he couldn't quite comprehend.

“You think I'm adorable?” Geonwoo repeated, his voice a little higher than he meant for it to be. He felt like he was floating, his body buoyant, ungrounded.

Arno's eyes never left his face. “Yes, I do,” he replied, his voice soft, gentle. He leaned back in his chair, his arms stretching out on the back of Geonwoo's chair once again, the movement casual, intimate.

Geonwoo swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the wine. He looked away, unable to meet Arno's gaze, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and… and something else. Something warm and fluttering that he dared not name.

“You shouldn't say things like that,” he mumbled, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It's… it's embarrassing.” His voice trailed off, lost in the sound of his own heartbeat.

But Arno just chuckled, the sound low, rich. “I say what I think,” he said, his voice full of confidence, full of certainty. “And what I think is that you're adorable, Geonwoo. Adorable and kind and…” He paused, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “...and very drunk.”

Geonwoo blinked, startled. “I am not drunk,” he said, the words coming out slowly, each syllable pronounced carefully. “I'm… I'm perfectly fine.” But even as he spoke, the room seemed to spin slightly, the colors blurring together in a kaleidoscope of hues.

Arno's laughter was like music, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down Geonwoo's spine. “Geonwoo, you're slurring your words,” he said, his voice soft, teasing. “You're definitely drunk.” He reached out, his hand brushing against Geonwoo's arm, sending sparks of electricity through Geonwoo's body. “Maybe you should lie down.”

Geonwoo shook his head, the movement sending the room spinning slightly. “No, I'm fine.” The words were a lie, and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He felt… different, his body heavy, his senses dulled.

Arno nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Alright.” He started to pull his hand away, but before he could, Geonwoo caught it, his fingers wrapping around Arno's wrist with a strength he didn't know he possessed.

Arno's eyebrow shot up, surprise written across his face as he looked at Geonwoo. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the only sound the steady beat of their hearts. Then, in a move that surprised them both, Geonwoo pulled Arno's arm around his shoulders, resting his head against Arno's warm body.

“I'm cold,” Geonwoo mumbled, the words slurred, indistinct. 

Arno leaned in slightly, his voice soft, gentle. “You want a jacket?” 

But Geonwoo shook his head, his breath hot against Arno's skin. “Your body is warm. I'm fine with you.”

Arno's eyebrows lifted, surprise giving way to something else. Slowly, he wrapped his arm tighter around Geonwoo, pulling him closer until they were pressed together from shoulder to hip. Geonwoo didn't protest, didn't resist. Instead, he let out a small sigh, his body relaxing into Arno's embrace as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The warmth of Arno's body enveloped Geonwoo, a comforting embrace that seemed to chase away all his worries, all his fears. He felt safe, protected, like nothing could harm him as long as he was in Arno's arms.

As the moments ticked by, the only sound the steady beat of their hearts, Geonwoo found himself growing more and more relaxed. His eyelids drooped, his breathing slowing until he felt himself drifting into a light doze, lulled by the warmth and the sound of Arno's steady breathing.

But he didn't fall asleep. Not yet. Instead, he found himself becoming more and more aware of Arno's body against his. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his arm tightened around Geonwoo's waist every now and then, the way his skin felt against Geonwoo's.

It was a dangerous feeling, one that made Geonwoo's heart pound faster, his breath quicken. But he couldn't seem to stop himself, couldn't seem to pull away. All he could do was lie there, pressed against Arno's warm body, and let the sensations wash over him.

“Geonwoo,” Arno spoke up suddenly, his voice low, soft. “Are you okay?” The question brought Geonwoo back to the present, to the reality of the situation. He looked up at Arno, his eyes meeting his gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing else but the two of them, lost in the intensity of their stare.

Time seemed to slow down as they stared at each other, the world around them melting away until there was nothing but the two of them, suspended in this moment of pure anticipation. Geonwoo's eyes instinctively landed on Arno's lips, full and slightly parted, glistening with the remnants of the wine they'd been drinking for hours.

They looked… inviting, promising, a siren's call that Geonwoo couldn't resist. His eyes flickered up to Arno's, meeting a gaze that was intense, focused, half-lidded with desire. The air between them vibrated with tension, the silence crackling with unspoken promises.

Geonwoo felt himself leaning in, his body moving of its own accord. The space between them shrunk, disappeared, until all that was left was a hair's breadth of distance. He could feel Arno's breath on his lips, warm, wine-scented, and suddenly, he couldn't resist anymore.

In a move that surprised them both, Geonwoo pressed his lips to Arno's, a soft, tentative brush of skin against skin. It was a question, a test, a challenge issued. And Arno, oh Arno, he responded beautifully.

His lips moved against Geonwoo's, soft, gentle, then harder, hungrier. The world around them melted away, leaving nothing but the two of them, lost in the intensity of their kiss. Geonwoo felt himself getting lost, drowning in the sensation of Arno's lips, of his arms tightening around him, pulling him closer.

The kiss was everything Geonwoo had never known he wanted. It was a fusion of lips and breath and heartbeats, a mingling of their very essence. Arno's arms tightened around him, pulling him closer until they were pressed together from chest to hip, every inch of their bodies touching.

Geonwoo felt himself melting into the embrace, his body surrendering to the sensations that Arno's lips evoked. It was like a dam breaking, a flood of emotions and desires that he'd never acknowledged before. He'd never kissed anyone like this, with such abandon, such need.

Arno's tongue brushed against his lips, seeking entry, and Geonwoo opened for him, allowing their tongues to dance together. The taste of wine and Arno filled his senses, overpowering him, consuming him. He moaned softly, the sound lost in the kiss.

As they broke apart for air, their lips still touching, their breaths mingling, Geonwoo opened his eyes to find Arno looking at him, his brown eyes dark with desire, his pupils dilated. “Geonwoo,” Arno breathed, his voice husky, full of need.

Geonwoo nodded, the only response he could manage. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, his body aching for more. He leaned back in, his lips seeking Arno's once again, the kiss deepening, becoming more intense.

The kiss seemed to stretch on forever, a moment of pure bliss where nothing else mattered but the two of them. But then, suddenly, Geonwoo felt it—a sudden wave of emotions flooding his mind, crashing against the shores of his heart.

He took deep breaths, not breaking the kiss, trying to catch his breath. But the wave was too strong, too overwhelming. He pulled back, his lips separating from Arno's with a soft pop, leaving a string of saliva connecting them for a moment before breaking.

Geonwoo dropped his head to Arno's shoulder, his breathing heavy, uneven. He rested a hand on Arno's shoulder, holding onto him as if he was his lifeline. Arno held him close, his arms wrapping around Geonwoo's back, holding him steady.

As they took their breaths, their hearts pounding in unison, a faint sound echoed through the room—the soft, muffled sobbing of Geonwoo. Arno noticed immediately, his body tensing slightly in surprise. He tried to pull back, to look at Geonwoo, but Geonwoo wouldn't let him go. He hugged Arno tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Geonwoo?” Arno spoke up, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? What's wrong?” His hands moved up and down Geonwoo's back in soothing strokes, but Geonwoo just continued to cry, the sobs shaking his body.

After what felt like an eternity, Geonwoo finally pulled back, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. Arno searched his face immediately, taking in the red, puffy eyes, the flushed cheeks, the swollen lips. “What's wrong, Geonwoo?” he asked, his voice soft, gentle.

Geonwoo's voice was barely above a whisper. “Hyung.” The word was a plea, a question, a confession all rolled into one. 

Arno's response was immediate, a soft “Hm?” followed by. “What is it? Are you okay?”

Geonwoo's eyes filled up with tears again, and this time, he couldn't stem the flow. They spilled down his cheeks, hot, salty, as he whispered. “Hyung, I'm sorry.” Before he could say anything else, Arno pulled him into a tight hug, his arms enveloping him like a cocoon.

“Don't say sorry,” Arno murmured into his ear, his voice soothing, calming. “What happened? What's wrong?” The questions were gentle, encouraging, urging Geonwoo to speak, to let it all out.

Geonwoo sobbed into Arno's shoulder, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I—I ruined everything, hyung. I... hic... I'm sorry.” The hiccups punctuated his words, a clear indication that the wine was finally taking full effect.

Arno shook his head, his fingers rubbing small circles on Geonwoo's back. “You didn't ruin anything,” he replied, his voice soft. “You don't need to apologize to me, baby” 

But Geonwoo wouldn't let it go, his words spilling out. “I did ruin it, hyung. I'm sorry. I suddenly hic thought about work and how hic it makes me feel hic pathetic and like I've missed out on stuff like this.”

And then, like a switch had been flipped, Arno understood. The sudden burst of emotions, the hiccups between his words—the wine had finally taken effect on Geonwoo. He was drunk. The realization was followed by a slight smile, a warmth that spread through Arno's chest. Geonwoo looked so… cute like this, so vulnerable, so in need of protection.

“You didn't miss out on anything, you're still young, Geonwoo,” Arno said, his voice soft, his tone indulgent. 

But Geonwoo just pulled back, his arms lingering on Arno's as he looked up at him, his eyes red, puffy, his face streaked with tears. “Hyung, I'm missing everything out,” he mumbled, before bursting out into fresh sobs and throwing himself into Arno's arms once again.

Arno pressed his lips together, finding Geonwoo's desperation, his vulnerability, immensely amusing, endearing. He knew that Geonwoo definitely needed a nap now. 

As gently as he could, he spoke up. “Geonwoo-ya, let's go to bed. It's much more comfy there.” 

But Geonwoo shook his head, his face buried in Arno's shoulder. “I don't want to go to sleep yet.”

Arno's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his expression soft, gentle. “We're not going to sleep,” he reassured Geonwoo. “It's just that… your back will get hurt in these chairs.” He gestured to the small, uncomfortable chairs they were sitting on, his point evident.

Geonwoo looked at him uncertainly, his brow furrowed in thought. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner overhead. Then, with a small nod, Geonwoo allowed Arno to guide him to his feet.

Arno nodded, his expression approving. He stood up, his movements fluid, graceful, and held out his hand to Geonwoo. “Here, let me help you,” he said, his voice soft, coaxing. Geonwoo looked at the outstretched hand for a moment, then slowly placed his own in it, allowing Arno to pull him to his feet.

As they stood there, swaying slightly, Arno realized just how drunk Geonwoo was. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and his body seemed to lean against Arno as if seeking support. Arno's heart twisted with affection and concern, he wrapped an arm around Geonwoo's waist, holding him steady.

“Come on,” he said, his voice soft, guiding Geonwoo towards the bedroom. “Let's go lie down for a bit. You can rest your head, and we can talk some more when you're feeling better.” Geonwoo nodded, his head bobbing up and down, as he let Arno lead him towards the bed, his body pressed against Arno's side.

Arno helped Geonwoo lie down, guiding him gently onto the soft mattress. As Geonwoo settled in, a look of relief crossed his face, his body seeming to melt into the bed. Arno smiled, satisfied, then lay down beside him, turning on his side so that he could look at Geonwoo.

His hand came to rest on Geonwoo's head, his fingers gently brushing through his hair as his arm cradled him. He looked at Geonwoo, whose gaze was blankly fixed on the ceiling, his eyes glazed over with the remnants of his tears and the effects of the wine.

“How are you feeling?” Arno asked, his voice soft, concerned. 

Geonwoo blinked slowly, his eyes fluttering closed before opening again. “The bed is comfy,” he mumbled, a small smile playing on his lips. “It feels good.”

Arno smiled back, his fingers continuing their gentle ministrations. “See, I told you,” he said, his voice low, amused. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from Geonwoo's forehead, his touch gentle, soothing.

Geonwoo spoke up again, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Hyung…” he called out, his voice soft, tentative. 

Arno's expression changed, becoming more attentive. “What is it?” he asked, his voice full of interest.

Geonwoo's lips moved, forming words that were barely audible. “I'm… I'm glad Anxin booked you instead of others.” The confession hung in the air, a revelation of Geonwoo's true feelings. Arno's face softened, a smile curving his lips, but he didn't say anything, choosing instead to let the moment speak for itself.

As the silence stretched out, Geonwoo's eyelids began to droop, his breathing slowing until he was asleep, his body relaxed, peaceful. Arno watched him, a small smile still playing on his lips, his eyes never leaving Geonwoo's face.

After a while, when he was sure that Geonwoo was deeply asleep, Arno called out softly. “Geonwoo?” There was no response, just the sound of Geonwoo's even breathing. Arno smiled again, his eyes warm with amusement and affection.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, the sound piercing the quiet of the room. Arno's eyes flickered to his pocket, then back to Geonwoo, his expression thoughtful. Slowly, he sat up, careful not to disturb the sleeping man beside him.

Arno walked towards the door, away from the bed, his eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. He sighed softly before clicking the accept button, lifting the device to his ear.

“Kaiwen,” he said, his voice deep, smooth, even if there was a slight edge of annoyance to it. Kaiwen's voice echoed from the other end, cheerful, oblivious to Arno's irritation. “Hao-ge, did you find it? My watch?”

Arno went quiet for a second, his eyes flicking back to where Geonwoo lay sleeping, a soft, vulnerable figure on the bed. Then he replied, his voice casual. “I'll just buy you a new one.” 

There was a pause on the other end, then Kaiwen spoke up, surprise evident in his voice. “Why? Didn't you find it at the love hotel? Because I swear I left it there, ge.”

Arno's expression softened slightly, despite himself. “I didn't find anything,” he replied, his tone even, neutral. 

Kaiwen's response was immediate. “ge, did you even try finding it?”

Arno rolled his eyes, his free hand coming up to rub his forehead. “Why does it even matter? I said I'll buy you a new one,” he repeated, his voice firm, final. 

But Kaiwen just laughed, the sound echoing over the line. “You're acting suspicious, ge. But I'll take it before you take back that you're buying me a new watch.”

Arno hummed in response, his lips twisting into a wry smile. Before he could say anything else, Kaiwen spoke up again. “Where are you? You're on your way home then if you're not at the hotel.” 

Arno's eyes flickered back to Geonwoo, his expression thoughtful. “Who said I left already?” he replied, his voice casual, nonchalant.

Kaiwen's voice rose in surprise on the other end of the line. “You said you didn't find my watch, ge— wait? Hao-ge you're still there?! Why are you—ge?!—” Arno could almost hear the panic rising in his friend's voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound low, amused. “I'm going home now, don't worry about me." Before Kaiwen could say anything else, Arno dropped the call, the sudden silence a welcome respite.

He put his phone back in his pocket, his eyes drifting towards the bed where Geonwoo lay sleeping, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. Arno sighed softly, his expression thoughtful, then walked back towards the bed, his movements quiet, deliberate.

As he sat down beside Geonwoo, he took a moment to glance around the room, taking in the small details that told the story of their evening together. But his eyes always returned to Geonwoo, drinking in the sight of him, vulnerable and peaceful in his sleep.

Arno's smile softened, his eyes warm with affection as he leaned in towards Geonwoo. He scanned his face, taking in every feature, every curve and line, before closing the gap between them. His lips brushed against Geonwoo's, a soft, gentle kiss, then he pulled away, his fingers trailing over Geonwoo's cheek.

Geonwoo stirred at the touch, turning onto his side to face Arno, a soft murmur escaping his lips. Arno's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy birthday, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I hope you enjoyed your time with me.”

He sighed softly, his gaze lingering on Geonwoo's peaceful form. But he knew he couldn't stay. Slowly, he stood up, his eyes never leaving Geonwoo as he made his way to the door. He paused for a moment, looking back at the younger man, a small smile playing on his lips.

Then, without another word, he opened the door and slipped out, leaving Geonwoo sleeping peacefully behind him. The room fell silent once again, the only sound was the steady rise and fall of Geonwoo's chest as he slept, lost in his own world.

The warm rays of the sun streaming through the window finally roused Geonwoo from his deep slumber. He scrunched up his face, instinctively lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he slowly opened them again, his gaze squinting against the bright light.

As he looked around, he realized with a start that he was alone in the room. Confusion washed over him, followed quickly by a dawning realization—last night. Geonwoo's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest as memories of the previous evening began to surface.

He threw off the blanket covering his body, his eyes scanning his form frantically. He was still dressed, his clothes rumpled but intact. Relief warred with confusion—what happened last night? Did anything...?

As he slowly sat up, a sharp headache suddenly shot through his head, making him gasp. He instinctively brought a hand to his forehead, wincing—fuck, how much did I drink last night? The room seemed to spin slightly as he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

His gaze roamed the room again, taking in the empty wine bottles on the table, the two wine glasses. Two wine glasses. Right. He was with someone. Arno. His mind raced, trying to recall the events of the night before. But everything seemed hazy, unclear.

Arno, Arno's here—where? Where's Arno? Geonwoo threw off the remaining blankets and stood up, his legs jelly, uncoordinated. He walked slowly towards the bathroom, his head pounding with each step, but there was no sign of Arno. The bathroom was empty, the shower unused, the sink spotless.

Geonwoo frowned, confusion and worry warring inside him. Is Arno even here? Had he imagined the whole thing? He stumbled back into the main room, his eyes scanning every corner, but there was no sign of Arno. No note, no message, nothing. Just Geonwoo, alone and confused, with a pounding headache and a whole lot of unanswered questions.

Geonwoo dropped back onto the bed, feeling lost and disoriented. The room seemed to spin around him, a confusing blur of unfamiliar furniture and empty space. He lay there for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts, to piece together the fragments of his memory from the night before.

But before he could settle into his reverie, his phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration sudden and insistent. Geonwoo sighed, reaching for the device with a reluctant hand. His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep, as he spoke up. “Hello?”

“How did it go?” Anxin's cheerful voice echoed from the other end, only to pause as he seemed to realize the time of day. “Oh wait, let's meet. Right now.” 

Geonwoo sighed again, his frustration evident even over the line. “I just woke up.”

Anxin responded quickly, his tone excited, intrigued. “So that means something happened! Don't say anything about it yet, I want to hear it face to face.” 

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, his free hand coming up to rub his temples. He glanced at the time on his phone—11:34 am. Fuck, he was already late for work.

“I need to go to—” he began, but Anxin cut him off, her voice firm, insistent. “You're not going to work. I'll send you the location already. Be there by 12 or I'll barge into your room.” 

Geonwoo sighed heavily, resigned. “Alright, I'll shower now.” He ended the call before Anxin could respond, his mind already turning to the task ahead of dealing with his friend's nosy questions and annoying antics.

But even as he stood up and began to walk towards the bathroom, his thoughts drifted back to Arno, the stranger from last night. Geonwoo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to clear his head. He needed to get his thoughts together if he was going to survive Anxin's interrogation.

The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Geonwoo and Anxin sat down at a cozy coffee shop. Anxin leaned in, his eyes wide with curiosity, eager to hear the details of the previous night.

“How did it go? What happened?” he asked, his voice low but urgent, his eyes scanning Geonwoo's face. " Is he good looking in real life?”

Geonwoo didn't respond, his gaze fixed blankly on the ground, lost in thought as he nursed his hot coffee. Anxin spoke up again, his voice rising slightly. “Geonwoo!” The sudden noise made Geonwoo flinch, his eyes snapping up to meet Anxin's expectant gaze.

Anxin rolled his eyes, his expression exasperated. “What happened? Did you have fun?” He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest, waiting for some kind of answer.

Geonwoo took a sip of his coffee, the warmth spreading through his body, before responding. “I guess. I don't know, I was drunk.” 

Anxin's eyebrows shot up, surprise evident on his face. “You're drunk?! How? Did you guys drink before you had sex?”

Geonwoo's foot shot out, connecting with Anxin's under the table, making him wince. “Stop saying embarrassing things in a public place,” he hissed, his cheeks flushing with discomfort.

Anxin rubbed his sore foot, his expression sheepish. “But did you?” he asked again, his voice slightly more subdued. 

Geonwoo shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. “We had a drink but we didn't have sex.”

Anxin's face fell, disappointment etched across his features. “What? Why?! I paid a lot for him, you know. You should've done it.” 

Geonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don't know, okay? I got drunk, I don't even remember half of what happened last night.” His eyes dropped back to his coffee, his brow furrowed in confusion and uncertainty.

Anxin let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair with a cup of coffee in his hand. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving Geonwoo's face. “You're so boring,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “Is he even good looking? Tell me that.”

Geonwoo's eyes dropped, his gaze drifting to the floor as memories of the previous night began to surface. Arno's face appeared in his mind—the piercing eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul, the sharp, sculpted nose, the soft, inviting lips. The taste of those lips… fuck.

Geonwoo's face burned as he felt heat rising to his cheeks. He brought his hands up to cover his face, trying to compose himself, to push away the sudden, unwanted arousal. Anxin raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “What? He's not good looking to you?” 

Geonwoo slowly lowered his hands, his face still flushed. “He is,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “He is good looking.” 

Anxin smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “See, I told you, I know you'll like blonde guys.”

But Geonwoo's brow furrowed in confusion. “Blonde guys?” he repeated, his voice tinged with skepticism. 

Anxin nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “Yeah, I booked you a blonde.”

Geonwoo's eyes widened, surprise and confusion warring within him. “But… but Anxin, the guy who met me yesterday night is not.. blonde.” His words hung in the air, a stark contradiction to what Anxin had just said.

Anxin's expression changed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What?” he asked, his tone cautious, questioning. The air between them seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken questions and doubts.

Anxin leaned in immediately, his hands on the table. “What do you mean he's not blonde?! I booked you a blonde guy. Wait a sec.” He started patting his pockets, his brow furrowed in concentration, until his fingers closed around the familiar shape of his phone.

With a few swift taps, he pulled up a photo on his screen, holding it out for Geonwoo to see. “This is the guy. See?” The man on the screen was indeed blonde, his muscles evident even through his clothes, his features soft and inviting. 

Geonwoo took the phone, scrolling through the information on the screen until he came across a name:

Kim Junseo, 27 years old.

Kim Junseo? 

Who the hell was this? 

This was definitely not Arno. 

Geonwoo's brow furrowed in confusion as he handed the phone back to Anxin. “This is not the guy I met yesterday.”

Anxin's eyes widened, his expression incredulous. “Then who the fuck did you meet yesterday?! Did you even get his name or his number or fuck, any information?” His voice rose with each question, his annoyance and disbelief evident.

Geonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. “His name… his name is Arno. He's 28 years old.” 

Anxin's face fell, confusion written across his features. “Who the fuck is Arno?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Geonwoo shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling helplessly. “I don't fucking know. I thought that's the guy you booked for me.” 

Anxin let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair, his expression exasperated. “Oh my god, Geonwoo, Kim Geonwoo, you're dumb as fuck.”

Geonwoo shook his head, his frustration evident in his voice. “I told you, you should've shown his face to me before you booked it.”

Anxin's expression was unrepentant. “It's a surprise, Geonwoo. Why the hell would I show it to you?”

Geonwoo let out a harsh laugh. “Because if you showed it to me then it wouldn't have happened, I wouldn't have met Arno—” He trailed off suddenly, his brow furrowing as realization dawned. If Anxin had shown him the man's face, he wouldn't have met Arno. The thought sent a strange, hollow feeling through his chest.

Anxin's eyes narrowed, his expression curious. “What? What's wrong?”

Geonwoo waved his hand dismissively, taking a sip of his coffee. “Nothing.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting towards the window, lost in thought.

But Anxin's sudden exclamation pulled him back. “How did you meet that Arno guy?” 

Geonwoo blinked, his mind racing. “He knocked on my door and I thought it was him.”

“What time?” Anxin asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

Geonwoo's brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “Around 8, I think? I don't remember clearly.” Anxin's eyes widened, his hands moving swiftly over his phone screen.

After a minute, he looked up, his expression thoughtful. “Geonwoo.” 

The way he said his name, soft, serious, made Geonwoo look up. “What?” 

Anxin's voice was measured, careful. “The guy I booked for you actually got cancelled… and the money I gave them was returned to me.”

Geonwoo's eyes widened, his mind racing with implications. “That means…” 

Anxin continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't get scammed.”

The room seemed to fall silent, heavy with unspoken questions. Geonwoo swallowed, his throat feeling dry. “So why…” He didn't need to finish the sentence, the question hanging in the air between them.

Geonwoo's eyes met Anxin's, both of them lost in thought, the air thick with unspoken questions. If the man Anxin had booked had been cancelled, and the money returned, then why had Arno shown up at Geonwoo's door? The more he thought about it, the more confusing it seemed.

Anxin sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression frustrated. “I don't get it. Why would some stranger just show up at your door? Did you give him your address?” 

Geonwoo shook his head, his brow furrowed. “No, I don't think so. I don't remember.”

The lack of answers only seemed to deepen the mystery. Geonwoo's mind raced, trying to piece together the events of the previous night, but it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. He knew Arno's name, his age, but nothing else. No contact information, no way to reach him again.

As if sensing his friend's turmoil, Anxin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. “Did he hurt you? Should we call the police—”

But Geonwoo cut him off before he could continue, his voice firm, reassuring. “It's fine, Anxin. I'm fine. We didn't really do anything.”

Anxin's eyes narrowed slightly, his brow furrowed. “You guys didn't have sex, right? You told me earlier.” Geonwoo tilted his head to the side, hesitating for a moment before nodding slowly. But the movement was subtle, almost imperceptible. Almost.

Anxin's eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening in surprise. “What was that?” he asked, his voice curious. 

“What was what?” Geonwoo asked, his voice neutral, even if his cheeks seemed to be coloring slightly. 

Anxin's eyes gleamed with amusement. “You fucker, what was that? That reaction you just did.”

Geonwoo looked away, his jaw clenched. “I didn't do any reaction.” 

But Anxin wasn't convinced. “You said you didn't have sex?!” His voice rose slightly, disbelief evident in his tone.

“We didn't,” Geonwoo retorted, his shoulders shrugging. 

Anxin jumped on his words. “Then what's with your reaction? What did you guys do?” Geonwoo rolled his eyes, looking away in exasperation. 

Anxin pressed again, his curiosity piqued. “What did you guys do?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. 

Geonwoo pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking back to Anxin before he spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. “We made out.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. Anxin's eyes widened, shock etched across his features. “What?!” He whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Geonwoo!”

Geonwoo's cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he met Anxin's gaze head-on, a defiant glint in his eyes. “He's handsome!” 

Anxin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if trying to process everything. When he opened them again, they were narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips. “You're such a whore,” he said, his voice teasing, but his eyes gleaming with amusement rather than true anger.

Geonwoo, his expression resigned. “Shut up,” he muttered, reaching for his coffee and taking a long sip, trying to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks.

But Anxin wouldn't let it go, his voice still tinged with amusement. “So, handsome, huh? Tell me more.” He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, clearly enjoying Geonwoo's discomfort.

Geonwoo sighed, putting his cup down and running a hand through his hair. “There's nothing to tell, okay? We made out, that's it. And yes, he's handsome.” 

Anxin just chuckled, unfazed by Geonwoo's irritation. “Well, well. Look at you, Mr. I-Don't-Want-To-Hook-Up suddenly making out with a complete stranger.” 

“Anxin,” Geonwoo said, his voice softer now. “Really, it's fine. We just got caught up in the moment, okay? It didn't mean anything.” 

Anxin leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Then at least tell me what happened when he entered the room,” he pressed, his voice low, insistent.

Geonwoo sighed, hesitation evident on his face before he finally spoke up, his voice soft. “He—Arno guy, was at the door, he's wearing a… a black boots with slacks and… he has a black polo with the sleeves rolled up on his arm.”

He paused, his eyes drifting off as memories of the previous night surfaced. “He has an undercut, black hair, big eyes, sharp nose, curved lips…” The description tumbled out, painting a vivid picture of the stranger—Arno.

Anxin whistled softly, his eyes wide with amusement. “Wow, he sounds exactly your type,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. 

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Shut up.”

But he continued, his voice growing more confident. “I pulled him in because he's just standing at the door…” 

He trailed off, expecting Anxin to ask more questions, but instead, his friend cut him off, his expression incredulous. “You pulled him in?”

Geonwoo nodded, his brow furrowed slightly. “Yeah, I—”

But Anxin cut him off again, his voice rising. “So you want to do it?” 

The question hung in the air, and Geonwoo's eyes widened, realization dawning on his face. “What? Do what—...”

He shook his head, his voice firm. “I didn't—” 

Anxin cut him off once more, his tone teasing. “You're mad at me when I told you but you're the one who's initiating it.” 

Geonwoo's face burned with embarrassment, but he retorted, his voice sharp. “I just wanted it to finish quickly!”

Anxin shook his head, amusement evident in his expression. “Finish quickly, huh?” he said, his voice low, mocking. 

Geonwoo rolled his eyes, his voice exasperated. "You're so annoying."

Anxin's smirk only deepened at Geonwoo's exasperation. “So, you're saying I'm right?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement, clearly enjoying Geonwoo's discomfort.

Geonwoo shook his head, his expression stubborn. “No, you're not right. I just didn't want to leave him standing at the door, okay? It's not like I had a choice.” 

Anxin leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glinting with amusement. “Whatever you say, Geonwoo. So, what happened after you pulled him in?” 

Geonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We talked for a bit. He seemed… different.” He hesitated, trying to put into words the inexplicable feeling he had gotten from Arno. “And then we drank wine and… we made out.” The words tumbled out, memories of the moment flashing through his mind.

Anxin's eyebrows shot up, surprise evident on his face. “Just made out? That's it?” His tone was skeptical, but Geonwoo nodded firmly. “Yeah, that's it. We didn't do anything else.” 

Anxin leaned forward, his curiosity evident. “And what do you mean he seems different?” he asked, his voice softening, urging Geonwoo to open up.

Geonwoo hesitated, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to put into words the inexplicable feeling he had gotten from Arno. 

Arno, a complete stranger, someone he had never met before, yet someone who had somehow left an indelible mark on him. The memory of their encounter swirled through his mind like a maelstrom, pulling him under with its intensity.

When they talked, Arno had seemed drawn to him, his dark eyes fixed intently on Geonwoo's face, drinking in every word, every emotion that flitted across his features. 

It wasn't the usual detached politeness of most dates, the kind of conversations where both parties were just going through the motions, waiting for it to end, for the obligatory moment to pass so they could go their separate ways. 

No, with Arno, it felt different. 

The wine had flowed easily, Geonwoo talking more than he usually did, sharing thoughts and feelings he never vocalized, never dared to speak aloud. And Arno, he had listened, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on Geonwoo, as if he was the only person in the world.

Just thinking about it made Geonwoo shiver, a shiver that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the strange, electric connection he had felt. The way Arno's eyes had seemed to bore into his soul, the way his presence had filled the room, making the air thick with tension. 

It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together seamlessly, meant to be.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Geonwoo spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. “He's not the type of guy who's all show-off, like every other date, like every usual date. He's more… not there but…” He trailed off, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to capture the essence of Arno, the feeling he had evoked.

Anxin's eyes widened, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Like, what do you mean?” His voice was soft, inviting Geonwoo to continue, to share more about this mysterious stranger who had captivated him.

Geonwoo shook his head, trying to find the right words. “I don't know, it's hard to explain. He's just… different. More real, I guess.” The words felt inadequate, unable to fully capture the essence of Arno, the way he had made Geonwoo feel.

Anxin nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Geonwoo's face. “Different, huh? In a good way, I take it?” His tone was light, teasing, but beneath it, Geonwoo could sense a thread of seriousness, a desire to understand what had happened between him and Arno.

Geonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “In a good way, I think. But it's not just that. It feels like… have you ever met someone and just felt this connection, this feeling that you're meant to be with them?”

Anxin's expression softened, his eyes taking on a thoughtful look. “I think so,” he replied slowly. “Maybe not exactly like that, but I've felt connections with people before. Strong ones.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “But this feels different, doesn't it? With Arno, I mean.”

Geonwoo nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. It does. It feels like… like we were meant to meet, like our paths were supposed to cross.” The words tumbled out, a confession of the deepest kind, revealing the depth of his feelings, the intensity of the connection he had felt with Arno.

The room fell silent again, heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of what Geonwoo had just shared. Anxin's expression was serious now, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. “If you're feeling this strongly about him, maybe you should try to find him again?”

As time passed, life slowly returned to normal for Geonwoo. He went back to his routine, waking up each morning, heading to work, and coming home in the evenings. But despite the outward appearance of normalcy, Geonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. The encounter with Arno had left an indelible mark on him, a mark that he couldn't ignore.

At work, Geonwoo became more reserved, more blunt in his interactions with his coworkers. Whenever they asked for his help with tasks outside his field, his response was always the same.

"It's not in my job description. I'm just a file clerk." 

The words became a mantra of sorts, a way for him to maintain his boundaries, to protect himself from getting too close.

But despite the outward appearance of normalcy, Geonwoo's mind never truly left Arno. The stranger who had so unexpectedly entered his life, with whom he had shared his birthday in such an intimate way, continued to haunt his thoughts. Even as he went about his daily routine, his mind would wander, conjuring up images of Arno, wondering what had become of him, if their paths would ever cross again.

He started coming to work early, not because he was suddenly enthusiastic about his job, but because he stayed a little longer at the bus stop, hoping against hope that he might catch a glimpse of Arno, that their paths might cross again in that serendipitous way they had before. He lingered at the train stations too, scanning the crowds, his heart pounding in anticipation.

But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and there was no sign of Arno. Not a single trace, not a single hint that he had ever existed. Frustration built inside Geonwoo, mixed with a growing sense of desperation. He started questioning his own sanity—had he imagined the whole thing? Had Arno been just a product of his fevered imagination, a comfort he had conjured up in the midst of chaos?

But no, Geonwoo knew that wasn't true. Arno was real. He had to be. He came back to the love hotel multiple times, he spoke to the receptionist, and his doubts were laid to rest. There had been a man, she told him, a man so charismatic that she remembered him clearly. A man with black hair, dark eyes, and curved lips. A man who had somehow captured Geonwoo's heart in the span of a single night.

Arno was indeed real, but he was nowhere to be found. But with this realization came the bitter truth—Arno was not here, and maybe, just maybe, he was never meant to be.

Maybe, as painful as it was to accept, their encounter was always meant to be a one-time thing, a fleeting moment of connection in the vast expanse of life. Maybe Geonwoo should give up, move on, focus on his own life rather than dwelling on a stranger he would never see again.

He tried to shake off the feeling of loss, telling himself that he was overthinking things. After all, they had only known each other for a matter of hours. It was ridiculous to think that such a short encounter could spark any real connection. But for Geonwoo, that one day had been enough. It had awakened something within him, a sense of possibility, of hope.

But as time went on, Geonwoo realized that maybe it was time to move on. He couldn't keep pining for someone who had vanished into thin air. So he did what any logical person would do—he tried to get on with his life. He changed his routine, meeting up with Anxin and Sangwon more often, trying to fill the void that Arno had left.

And he started dating again, really dating this time, not just going through the motions. He met new people, learned about their interests, their passions, their fears and dreams. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to move on, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was searching for something he already knew he wouldn't find. That he was trying to recreate a connection that had been unique, special, one that he had experienced with Arno.

Every person he met, every conversation they had, Geonwoo found himself comparing them to Arno. The way they laughed, the way they spoke, the way they looked at him. And every time, he came up short, a pang of disappointment settling in his chest. He knew it was unfair, knew he was doing them an injustice by measuring them against a man who had only been in his life for a night. 

He tried to find him in every person he met, to reach out to him across the distance, even though Arno wasn't truly gone—he was just existing somewhere else, in a different time and place.

And maybe it's supposed to be that way. 

Geonwoo sighed heavily as he typed away on his laptop, the sounds of the crowded coffee shop swirling around him. He had been lucky to snag a seat, but now he regretted it—the constant chatter and clinking of cups made it impossible to focus.

“Fuck this shit,” he cursed under his breath, slamming his laptop shut in frustration. Eight months had passed since that fateful night, and Geonwoo's life had taken a dramatic turn. He had quit his job and moved to Shanghai, China, taking up Anxin's offer to work overseas. The move had been a whirlwind of activity, from learning Mandarin to adapting to the vibrant city that never slept.

At first, the change had been exhilarating, a chance for Geonwoo to start anew and leave his past behind. He threw himself into his work, determined to prove himself in this new environment. But as the months dragged on, old patterns began to emerge. His job, which had promised so much, now felt suffocating, a constant source of stress and anxiety.

Today was the final straw. The deadline for a critical paper loomed, and Geonwoo was nowhere near finished. An event at the company had kept him occupied the night before, and now, as he sat in a crowded coffee shop, he felt the weight of his mistakes bearing down on him.

Geonwoo took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to focus, had to push through this. But as he opened his laptop again, ready to face his work, he was greeted with an unwelcome sight—the screen remained black, refusing to come to life.

For a moment, Geonwoo just sat there, frozen in disbelief. This couldn't be happening, not now, not today. He needed this laptop to work, needed it to meet his deadline.

Geonwoo's gaze fell on his phone, buzzing insistently on the table. He sighed inwardly, not really in the mood for a conversation, but something about the familiar name on the screen made him pick it up—Anxin.

“Wéi?” he said, his Mandarin accent still a bit rough around the edges, a testament to his recent move to China.

Anxin's voice was immediate on the other end of the line, amusement evident in his tone. “Wow, you're answering in Mandarin now? You're really immersing yourself in the culture.”

Geonwoo chuckled, despite himself. “What did you call for?” He leaned back in his chair, the noise of the coffee shop fading into the background as he focused on his friend.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Anxin replied, his voice softening. “How is it going in China? Everything okay?”

“I mean, everything is fine so far,” Geonwoo responded, his tone casual. “There’s some adjustment, but I'm managing.” 

“How's work?” Anxin asked, always perceptive, always knowing when there was more to the story.

Geonwoo let out a sarcastic laugh. “You know how it is with work. It's never going to get better.” The bitterness in his voice was hard to miss, a glimpse into the frustration he had been feeling lately.

Anxin's laughter echoed through the line. “Are you working right now?” he asked, his tone light.

“Unfortunately,” Geonwoo replied, his voice heavy with resignation. “But this stupid laptop won't work and my deadline is today. I'm seriously considering jumping into the river.” 

“Let it sit for a minute, maybe it's lagging,” Anxin suggested, his voice calm, rational. But Geonwoo was beyond reason at this point.

“I don't fucking need a minute, I need it right now, I need it to work right now,” he snapped, his patience at an end.

“Calm down, dude,” Anxin said, his voice firm but gentle. Geonwoo took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He glanced around the crowded coffee shop, the noise and chaos seeming to amplify his frustration.

“So, how's Sangwon? Are you two together now?” Geonwoo asked, changing the subject, trying to distract himself from his current predicament.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Geonwoo wondered if he had overstepped. But then Anxin's voice came through, his tone light despite the hesitation. “Fuck, how did you know we're together? Sangwon and I, I mean.”

Geonwoo chuckled, his earlier frustration momentarily forgotten. “You're not that slick, Anxin. I know you liked him from the day you two met, and Sangwon, well, he obviously has a thing for you too.” His words were met with Anxin's soft sigh on the other end of the line.

“Well, we're doing good, really,” Anxin said, his voice filled with a warmth that Geonwoo hadn't heard in a long time. 

“What about problems? Any issues so far?” he asked, his curiosity evident.

Anxin's response was immediate. “Maybe when we're both at work and I can't reach out to hug him… That's the problem so far.” 

“Gross, just gross,” Geonwoo replied, rolling his eyes even though Anxin couldn't see him. 

Anxin's laughter filled his ears. “What? You asked what problems, didn't you?” His tone was mock defensive.

“And I regret asking,” Geonwoo shot back, his voice dry. Anxin's amusement was palpable, even over the distance between them.

“Well, alright, you should continue working now and see if your laptop is working,” Anxin suggested, his tone serious now. “I'll let you get back to it. Bye, text me later!” His words were followed by the sound of him ending the call.

Geonwoo sat up quickly, suddenly remembering his deadline. “Right, I fucking forgot about that. I'll get going now.” He dropped his phone on the table and reached for his laptop, ready to face his work again. 

As he fiddled with the buttons, trying to get it to turn on, a voice made him flinch, a soft, low voice speaking in Mandarin. “Do you have a charger for a laptop?”

Geonwoo's hands moved on instinct, reaching for his backup charger without even looking. He opened his bag, his fingers closing around the familiar shape. In one smooth motion, he pulled it out and turned around, ready to hand it over to the person who had asked.

“Here's the charger…” His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on the person in front of him.

Blonde hair, big, expressive eyes, a sharp nose, and curved, plump lips—it was a face that had haunted his dreams and his waking thoughts for so long. The same face he had been searching for, hoping to catch a glimpse of again.

The person's eyes widened as they realized who stood before them, their gaze locking with Geonwoo's in a moment of pure, electric connection. And then, everything seemed to stop. Time itself seemed to freeze, leaving only the two of them, suspended in this moment.

Geonwoo's heart hammered in his chest, the charger slipping from his fingers to fall with a soft clatter on the floor. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, could only stare into those familiar eyes, eyes that had once seen so deeply into his soul.

“Geonwoo?” the voice was soft, questioning, laced with disbelief.

Geonwoo hesitated, his throat suddenly dry. 

“A-Arno?”