Archive of Our Own

Seonghwa sees him for the first time after coming back from the restroom, three hours into his shift and barely holding himself together.

“Hey, Seonghwa,” Bang says. He's one of the guys Seonghwa knows because he's always around, usually being a pain in the ass. “What’s the priciest drink you’ve got?” 

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Seonghwa simply raises an eyebrow in disinterest.

“Nothing's really expensive here,” he says. “The people who come here don’t exactly order the good stuff.”

“Hey, now,” Bang slings an arm around another guy. He’s a smaller guy Seonghwa doesn’t remember seeing before. “You think we're losers?”

Yes. "Of course not."

“We've got good jobs,” another guy cuts in. His name is Hyun, or at least that's what everyone calls him. “We work at ATEEZ, you know?”

Seonghwa has no idea what ATEEZ is, and he honestly doesn’t care. He usually talks to those men just enough to keep them from complaining to the manager, but never enough to get into actual conversation.

He nods, wipes down the counter, then sets three glasses down.

“The usual, I assume?”

Before anyone can answer, Seonghwa fills all three glasses with the cheapest vodka they have and walks away to help another customer. When he comes back, Bang and Hyun are hovering around the other guy.

Seonghwa barely looks at the third one. He hides his annoyance when he sees Bang has already messed up the counter again, but doesn't say anything.

“...it's not like you're underage,” he hears Bang say. “How old are you again?”

The man answers too quietly to hear over the noise of the bar. 

“Do I need to see your IDs?” Seonghwa asks, even though he doesn't really care. None of them look fresh out of high school, but he doesn't want trouble with the law either.

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s old enough.” Bang taps his glass against the counter for another drink. Seonghwa hates it when he does that, but pours him more vodka anyway. “Actually, tonight's a special night.”

Seonghwa notices the short man, Hongjoong, freeze. He doesn’t want to know, but he can tell Bang wants him to ask. 

“Oh, really?”

Bang leans in closer, his arm still draped around Hongjoong's shoulders, and whispers as though he's sharing a secret.

“Tonight we brought Hongjoong here to lose his virginity.”

For the first time, Seonghwa actually looks at Hongjoong's face. He’s… odd, but not the oddest person Seonghwa’s seen in this bar.  The guy isn't exactly unattractive, but... well, he needs a haircut and smaller glasses frames.

It's not even really about his looks. It's more the way he carries himself. Like he's trying to hide inside himself, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. Honestly, it's kind of pathetic.

“Good luck with that, guys,” Seonghwa says sincerely. “Use a condom.”

“You know anybody?” Hyun asks, leaning on the counter. “Got any hot friends?”

Seonghwa doesn’t think any of his hot friends would want to sleep with them. 

“No,” he replies. “All my friends are taken.”

It's a lie, but it's not like any of them know anything about the life of the guy serving their drinks, so who cares.

“Damn.” Bang sounds genuinely disappointed, dragging out the word like he's starting to get drunk. He's ridiculous. “But I think this is a good bar to get lucky. The women here seem pretty easy, you know? And, like, after a few drinks…” He laughs as though he's told a joke. “Even someone like Hongjoong might start looking interesting.”

“I already said—” Hongjoong tries to speak, but his voice is quiet, and Bang cuts him off before he can finish.

“Don't worry,” Bang says a little louder. “You just have to find a woman who's drunk enough.”

At some point, Seonghwa stops listening to the conversation. The bar is chaotic, and customers keep coming up with orders. He’s polite with customers, laughs with a few regulars, fills glasses for some arrogant college kids, wipes down the counter, and polishes glasses. It’s a weekday, so it’s not as packed as it gets on holidays, but there's an important soccer game on, and it's brought plenty of fans in.

When Hongjoong heads to the restroom, Bang crooks two fingers at Seonghwa again. It's annoying, but he goes anyway because he's literally getting paid to put up with unbearable customers.

“He's, like, rich as hell,” Bang says, like he's letting Seonghwa in on a secret.

“Who?”

“The guy with me,” Bang clarifies, and the look on his face makes it clear he thinks Seonghwa’s an idiot. “He's got more money than you've ever seen in your life.”

Seonghwa doesn't change his expression.

“So?”

That seems to annoy Bang.

“There’s nothing women like more than money, right?”

It's a terrible thing to say, but it's not the worst thing Seonghwa has ever heard Bang say — or, really, the worst thing he's ever heard from a customer at this bar. It barely fazes him anymore. There was a time, when he was younger, when it would’ve bothered him, but these days he hardly reacts at all. He just wants to get through the rest of his shift, take off his shoes, and sink into a hot bath.

“If you’re looking for hookers, this isn’t the place,” is all he says.

“The guy's pathetic, but he's not a bad person,” Bang holds out his glass, and Seonghwa fills it again. “And hookers can be mean.”

“If he’s actually that rich, he can pay someone to give him what he needs.”

“And do you know anybody?” Bang asks again.

“I already told you no.”

Before they can continue, Hongjoong and Hyun come back from the restroom. It's hard to picture a guy like that being rich. Seonghwa has never met anyone rich in person. Then again, not all of them can look like Elon Musk.

And it's probably an exaggeration. Bang is, objectively, poor. One time, when he tried to pay his tab, his card got declined and he had to call a friend to borrow money. He wears shirts with holes under the arms, and his cologne is cheap. Maybe, from his point of view, someone who can pay their rent on time and go on vacation is rich as hell.

They take another shot and move away from the bar. Seonghwa wipes down the counter again, scrubs a stain off a glass, and serves more drinks. 

The home team scores, and everyone in the bar erupts in cheers. After that, it only gets louder.

When Seonghwa spots Bang and the others again, they're talking to a group of girls. Hyun is the most outgoing of the three, shouting something into one of the girls’ ears so she can hear him over the noise, while Hongjoong stands off to the side, looking down at his phone instead of at them.

Seonghwa huffs, then lets out a quiet laugh. He feels kind of bad. He's always felt bad for the nerds back in school. Hongjoong has absolutely zero social skills, and there's not the slightest chance he's getting laid tonight. He's a lost cause. He probably wouldn't even know what to do in front of a pussy.

When the game ends, a lot of people leave, and the bar empties out considerably. Seonghwa's feet throb inside his shoes.

Bang, Hyun, and Hongjoong return to their spots in front of the counter and settle onto the barstools.

Without a word, Seonghwa fills three shot glasses and sets one in front of each of them before they can react. If the guy’s rich, he might as well make Bang’s sexist comments worth dealing with. 

“Are they bothering you?” Seonghwa asks, looking at Hongjoong straight in the eyes. 

It's the first time he's spoken to him directly, and Hongjoong's eyes go wide. He parts his lips as if he's about to answer, then blushes intensely, all the way from his neck to his ears.

“I can kick their asses if you need me to.”

Hongjoong has nice teeth. Seonghwa notices it almost as an afterthought because he once broke a tooth and had to take out a loan to pay for the dentist, and ever since then he's known exactly how expensive teeth like those are. Those aren't his natural teeth — they're the kind of teeth only a good dentist could give someone. 

“No,” Hongjoong finally says, looking away, still blushing. “It's okay.”

Hongjoong wears expensive clothes, too. Seonghwa can spot a fake from a mile away, having worked as a runway model for a few years. He knows quality the moment he sees it.

He also notices, almost absentmindedly, the way Hongjoong looks at him. As a gay man, he recognizes one of his own. And judging by how interested Bang seems in finding him a woman, it's obvious his coworkers don't know about his preferences.

That's fine. Not everyone feels comfortable coming out.

Just as Seonghwa predicted, the night drags on well past midnight. Bang tries talking to a few women, with Hongjoong trailing after him like an embarrassed little brother, and none of them seem to have any luck picking someone up.

“We can try again another day,” Bang says when the check arrives.

Hongjoong pays with a black card. Seonghwa lost interest hours ago and barely gives it another glance as he hands it back. He just wants the night to end as quickly as possible so everyone will leave and he can clean up and go home.

“Uh…” Hongjoong clears his throat, making Seonghwa look at him.

He's blushing again and looks even more awkward than before. He's probably at least a little drunk. Without meeting Seonghwa's eyes, he sets a fifty on the counter.

“Thank you.”

Seonghwa takes the money and slips it into his apron without a second thought. He'd never turn down a tip.

“Come again,” he says.

Hongjoong hesitates for a second, steals a quick glance at Seonghwa, then walks away. Bang and Hyun are already waiting for him by the exit.

If he’s really that rich, Seonghwa thinks, he could’ve left a bigger tip.

Hongjoong shows up several more times over the next few weeks. 

He barely says anything. He sits on a barstool, a bit away from where Seonghwa usually stands, orders a few beers in a quiet voice, and drinks them slowly while scrolling through his phone.

Seonghwa knows he's interested, and it's kind of annoying, but he also seems genuinely harmless. He looks at Seonghwa like he's afraid of getting caught, and he always glances away the moment Seonghwa looks back. He never does anything about the interest he obviously feels. 

He just sits there, with his oversized glasses and dorky haircut, looking completely out of place among everyone else in the bar. He looks like some awkward anime character.

He never says anything to Seonghwa beyond what he needs to when ordering, and he never flirts with him. It's as if he just wants to be near him, as though simply looking at him is enough. It's creepy, but also... kind of brave?

After a few hours, he pays for his beers and slides the same fifty-dollar tip across the counter. He never asks for Seonghwa's number, and he never slips him his own on a piece of paper the way some other interested men and women have.

Fortunately, he's also never waited for Seonghwa in a dark alley and tried to kidnap him.

Some time later, for reasons he doesn’t even remember anymore, Seonghwa brings it up to Yunho while they're drinking cheap beer and watching Star Wars. He’d never mentioned the guy to anyone, mostly because he’d never cared enough to, and he barely thought about him once he left the bar.

“So why don’t you go for the guy?” Yunho asks after hearing about Hongjoong.

“Why would I?” Seonghwa is genuinely surprised by the question, especially since he'd just said he hoped the guy wasn't a serial killer or something. “I'm not attracted to him. He's... kind of weird. And I don't even like short guys.”

“Didn't you say the guy has money?” Yunho puts a cigarette between his lips, and his next words come out slightly muffled. “You’re single now. Why not take advantage? It won't kill you to kiss the guy a few times if it means having dinner at some fancy Italian restaurant or getting a few expensive gifts in return. You'd probably never even have to sleep with him. Just be a little affectionate.”

Seonghwa tells Yunho to go fuck himself. He likes money, but he’s not selling himself. 

“Do you work nearby?”

When he asks the question, Hongjoong meets Seonghwa’s eyes for a few seconds. It's as though he wants to make sure the question is actually meant for him, and it is.

“Yeah,” he says quickly, looking over the top of his glasses, which have slipped down his nose. 

Monday is the slowest day at the bar. There are barely any customers, and it's not even seven yet. Seonghwa has already washed all the glasses, dusted the bottles, and is bored enough to try talking to the most introverted person he’s ever met. 

“That ATEEZ company?” Seonghwa remembers the name Bang mentioned the last time. “Are you the CEO or something?”

“Oh, no, no, of course not,” he says quickly, looking embarrassed for some reason Seonghwa can’t figure out. As if the idea of him being the CEO is ridiculous. And, with that posture, it probably is. “I'm just an employee.”

“Oh.” It's kind of disappointing, to be honest. When Bang said the guy was rich as hell, Seonghwa had imagined he was the CEO, maybe the owner's son or something, holding a position of power through pure nepotism. He quickly loses interest when he realizes he's just a regular guy. “Cool.”

It's not cool, and Seonghwa leans his hip against the bar and looks around. There’s a group of loud college students in one corner and a bunch of old men arguing about the president in another. It's raining outside, and the night's probably going to be quiet. Rain always keeps people indoors, except for a few workers trying to stay dry under the awning while they wait for public transportation.

“Have—have you worked here a long time?”

Seonghwa turns back to Hongjoong and nods. The question seems to throw him off, and it's the first time he's said anything besides ordering a drink or thanking him.

“A few years now.”

Seonghwa isn't embarrassed by his job, but he knows it isn't glamorous. He doesn’t work in an office, and it’s physical work that doesn’t require much thought. He has to put up with drunks, rude customers, harassment, and pretty mediocre pay, but he likes what he does. His boss is a decent guy who always pays on time and doesn't give him a hard time. That's more than Seonghwa would expect from a bar job.

“Cool,” Hongjoong says, even though it isn't.

A couple walks in, and Seonghwa steps away to take care of them. Once things settle down, he makes a quick trip to the restroom. When he comes back, Hongjoong is still sitting in the same spot. He steals a quick glance at Seonghwa before looking away again.

“So, did it happen?” Seonghwa asks suddenly, remembering why Bang had brought Hongjoong to the bar the first time.

When Hongjoong only looks confused, Seonghwa makes an incredibly crude gesture with his hands, miming a dick and a hole.

“Oh.” Hongjoong looks away, blushes furiously, and lets out a small laugh, all in quick succession, though it doesn't sound like a genuine laugh. “I never told Bang I was—he just assumed.”

Hongjoong doesn't say he isn't a virgin, but he doesn't say he is, either. He also doesn't answer Seonghwa's question, just sidesteps it politely enough that it doesn't come across as rude. It's the kind of clever answer that says something without actually saying anything.

And it's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it. Seonghwa is good at his job because he's good at reading people, and he doesn't know the guy well enough to tease him about it — honestly, he doesn't care whether he's a virgin or not, or whether he managed to get laid. He asked without thinking about how intrusive the question was.

When the silence between them stretches on, Seonghwa asks, “Another beer?”

Hongjoong just nods.

When the bar starts to empty out and Hongjoong is still there, long after he would normally have left, Seonghwa pulls out his phone to reply to a message, and the first thing he sees is a Marc Jacobs bag. He'd found the website while riding the subway, holding onto his backpack by its broken strap. 

He fell in love with one that costs five hundred dollars. He's never paid that much for anything. And it's not like he could take that kind of money out of his paycheck when he could find a perfectly good bag for twenty bucks at the thrift store down the street from his apartment.

But Seonghwa has always liked nice things. Back when he worked as a runway model, he was given a few pieces that he wore so often they practically became his trademark. He has a Chanel bag wrapped in bubble wrap at home. He loves beautiful shoes. He's always liked dressing well, but he can't afford those little luxuries.

The bag isn't a Chanel or a Louis Vuitton, and even so, it's far beyond anything Seonghwa could afford. The thought is almost insulting.

When Seonghwa finishes wiping down the tables, Hongjoong walks over. He pays for his beers with that familiar black card, but slides fifty dollars in cash across the counter.

“I was thinking,” Seonghwa says as he slips the money into his apron. He must look awful, his hair a mess after a six-hour shift at the bar, worn out from exhaustion and lack of sleep. He couldn't be less attractive than he is right now. “I noticed you seem interested, so I figured I'd ask. Would you pay five hundred dollars for a blowjob?”

Seonghwa has absolutely no idea what prostitutes charge these days, but five hundred dollars honestly sounds ridiculous. He knows a blowjob should cost way less than that. There's no way his mouth is worth five hundred dollars.

Hongjoong freezes at the question. He looks at Seonghwa, his brows knitting together slightly, then takes a small step back.

“It's okay if you don't want to,” Seonghwa says casually. He tries to act normal, as if he hasn't just offered a blowjob to a customer at the bar where he works for five hundred dollars. If his boss finds out, could he get fired for this? “I figured I'd put it out there. If you're interested.”

“I…” Hongjoong swallows hard. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat. Seonghwa tries to smile, hoping to look less intimidating. “I need to go.”

“Okay.” Seonghwa tries not to blush. He tries not to feel humiliated. It's fine. He figured Hongjoong wouldn't accept. The price is ridiculous for something so ordinary. He must've been out of his mind asking for that much, but it's too late to lower the price now without looking pathetic. “It's okay. Good night.”

Hongjoong stands there for a few more seconds, as though he wants to say something, but then he turns and leaves. He doesn't even look back.

It's fine. Throwing up on the shoes of the guy he liked back in high school was definitely more humiliating than this. 

He doesn't expect to see Hongjoong at the bar again, but three days later, he shows up. 

Since it's Saturday, the bar is packed. Seonghwa barely has time to feel embarrassed and mortified, which is probably for the best. There are always three bartenders working on weekends, and it's still complete chaos. His feet ache terribly, and he knows his hair is starting to get greasy. He spilled beer on his apron, and it's still early.

Even though Yeosang had been serving Hongjoong all night, at the end of the night Hongjoong walks over to Seonghwa and leaves the same tip as always.

Like throwing scraps at the poor, Seonghwa thinks, but he takes the tip and slips it into Yeosang's apron pocket after Hongjoong walks out the door.

When Hongjoong shows up on a Wednesday, Seonghwa notices he's even more nervous and withdrawn than usual. 

Normally, Hongjoong prefers the barstool at the far end of the bar, where he sits partially in the shadows. Today, he chooses a seat closer to the center of the bar.

“One beer, please,” Hongjoong says quietly. 

Hongjoong's expression doesn't give much away. He sneaks a glance at Seonghwa before quickly looking away again. He struggles to make eye contact. 

As Seonghwa opens the beer and slides it across the counter toward him, he asks, “Rough day at work?”

Hongjoong wraps both hands around the bottle but doesn't drink.

By now, Seonghwa isn't even embarrassed anymore, though he did laugh at himself in the shower last week when he remembered what he'd done. God, that was embarrassing.

“You could say that,” Hongjoong replies vaguely, his voice quiet. He nods slightly toward the beer. “Thank you.”

Seonghwa walks away. He chats with a regular customer he considers a friend by now. The guy always makes him laugh. He wipes down the counter again, serves a few more drinks, and has to ask a burly man, for what feels like the hundredth time, to stop breaking glasses. 

He notices that Hongjoong has finished his beer, so he grabs another one from the cooler. 

“Were you serious?” Hongjoong asks as soon as Seonghwa walks over.

Seonghwa doesn't answer right away. He opens the beer and slides it toward Hongjoong. He doesn't have to ask what he's talking about. He already knows.

“Why?” Seonghwa studies the expression on Hongjoong's face. He looks anxious and nervous, but also strangely determined. He forces himself to meet Seonghwa's eyes, even with his face flushed bright red. “Changed your mind?”

“I…” Hongjoong looks down and wraps his hand around the beer. His hands are small, but his nails are short and neatly trimmed. He doesn't seem like the type to neglect himself, and he always smells nice enough. “Maybe. If you were serious about... about that. If it wasn't a joke.”

Seonghwa considers making fun of him. Saying, Has someone really been cruel enough to pull something like that on you before, Hongjoong?

But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. He doesn't want to scare Hongjoong any more than he already seems to be. Instead, he thinks about the five-hundred-dollar bag he never bought and how nice it would be to let himself have that one small indulgence.

“It's not a joke,” Seonghwa says firmly. He tries to imagine taking the offer back, but Hongjoong seems clean enough, and he's not even that intimidating. It's five hundred dollars. It's ridiculous that Hongjoong would think someone like Seonghwa is worth five hundred dollars. “I usually get off work at two in the morning. You can come by if you're interested.”

Hongjoong nods and takes a sip of his beer. Seonghwa walks away because there are other customers at the bar who need his attention.

The owner of the bar is rarely around at night. He has an office in the back that's basically just a storage room for liquor, and he only shows up on payday or when he has something important to sort out with the accountant. Other than that, he likes to work as little as possible.

Seonghwa is the one who closes the bar every night and sends the employees home after the nightly cleanup. That night, he lets everyone leave fifteen minutes early and brushes his teeth in the bar's cramped restroom.

When he steps out the back door, he knows it's Hongjoong sitting in the car with the headlights on because it's easily the nicest car on the street. Seonghwa hopes he looks inviting as he motions him over, and not like someone who's just worked an eight-hour shift.

“We can use the office in the back,” Seonghwa says when Hongjoong gets close enough that he no longer has to raise his voice. “Everyone's already gone home.”

Hongjoong swallows hard and looks a little terrified for a few seconds before nodding. He slips his hands into the pockets of his black coat and follows Seonghwa into the bar.

When they reach the office, Seonghwa ties his hair back into a ponytail and licks his dry lips. He wants to laugh at how withdrawn Hongjoong looks, because it's like the man is walking into the principal's office after getting caught spying on girls in the locker room. The image is so awful that Seonghwa almost feels embarrassed for him.

Instead of making fun of him, Seonghwa tries to put on a more seductive expression and lets his voice drop into a lower register. 

"Well... shall we?" 

Cheap seduction or not, Hongjoong nods as though he's hypnotized.

It's just a blowjob, Seonghwa reminds himself as he kneels on the floor in front of the other man.

Only then does Seonghwa realize Hongjoong hasn't said a single word since they met outside. He considers trying to break the silence again, but he can't come up with anything remotely sexy to say. He's never felt less sexy in his life, and the fact that he isn't attracted to Hongjoong doesn't help the situation at all.

Seonghwa looks away from Hongjoong's face and undoes the button on his pants. Hongjoong shivers and starts to raise his hands as though he's about to stop him, but stops halfway through the motion and lets his arms fall back to his sides. 

Taking that as consent, Seonghwa pulls down the zipper and slides both his pants and his underwear down to the middle of his thighs in one smooth motion.

Oh.

Hongjoong isn't hard. He has an average-sized dick. Surprisingly, it isn't small, but it isn't big either. His pubic hair is growing back in, but it's obvious he shaved a few days ago. He doesn't smell bad.

Seonghwa rests one hand on Hongjoong's thigh and doesn't bother teasing him. He leans in and takes him fully into his mouth. Still soft, he fits comfortably. Hongjoong lets out a sound and moves his hands again, as though he's about to grab Seonghwa's hair, but once again thinks better of it and clasps his hands behind his back. He doesn't moan, but his breathing grows heavier in the quiet office. His hips jerk awkwardly, as though he wants to bury himself even deeper in Seonghwa's mouth.

The cock in his mouth hardens very quickly. Seonghwa feels the weight of it on his tongue and closes his eyes because he doesn't want to look at Hongjoong. He moves his head back and forth slowly, trying to adjust to the new size. He runs his tongue over the head, where he knows most men are the most sensitive, leaving everything slick as he goes. 

Seonghwa pulls back for a moment to breathe and replaces his mouth with his hand. He strokes him gently and opens his eyes, looking up at him from below.

Hongjoong's face is bright red. He's biting his lower lip, probably to keep from making any noise, and Seonghwa tries to smile. He has no idea what he looks like right now, but he tries to look sexy as he sticks out his tongue and drags the head of Hongjoong's cock across it.

Hongjoong lets out a quiet, breathless sound, his eyes wide, and whispers a rough, barely audible "fuck." 

Then, just as Seonghwa closes his mouth around only the tip and starts to heat things up a little, thinking he'd better earn those five hundred dollars, Hongjoong pulls away and comes with a desperate sound.

Still kneeling on the floor, Seonghwa can only stare in shock.

Hongjoong has the courtesy to turn himself away in another direction, and he comes all over the office floor. His cock pulses once, twice, three times, until the last drop, with almost no stimulation at all. When he's done, Hongjoong takes a step back and braces himself against the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

Seonghwa licks his lips, still able to taste the precum, and gets to his feet.

“That was—” Hongjoong starts, but seems momentarily at a loss for words, still slightly dazed. Seonghwa doesn't feel like he did anything. He had the guy's cock in his mouth for maybe fifty seconds and had just been about to really start when it was already over. “You're... uh, really good at that,” he stammers at last.

“Thank you.” Seonghwa wipes the corner of his mouth while watching Hongjoong straighten his clothes.

They stand in silence as Hongjoong zips his pants back up. Seonghwa thinks about the cooling mess on the floor and has no idea what to say to make things any less awkward.

“I... I'm going to go now.” Hongjoong pulls an envelope out of his back pocket and hands it over, his face still flushed. He's shaking so badly that the envelope trembles too as Seonghwa takes it. “Uh, thank you. That was…”

Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa one last time, as though he were some kind of heavenly vision, opens the door, and leaves.

Seonghwa mops the floor before opening the envelope.

There's six hundred dollars inside.

Yunho is the only person Seonghwa has ever mentioned Hongjoong to, and even then only in passing. He doesn't tell him about the blowjob. 

It's a dirty little secret. The kind of thing that's so obscene that Seonghwa can't imagine telling anyone else. Maybe a few years from now, he'll be able to bring it up with a group of friends as one of those crazy things he did when he was young and reckless.

Instead, Seonghwa goes to the Marc Jacobs store and buys the bag he wants. Five hundred fucking dollars. It's absurd. It's insane. It's pornographic.

Seonghwa thought he would feel dirty, but he doesn't. He just feels strangely pleased with himself. He barely had to do anything. Hongjoong had looked so happy when he walked out that door, and Seonghwa had felt just as satisfied when he got what he wanted. 

It was a great deal. It was amazing.

“You said your friend is super rich or something,” Seonghwa says to Bang one day. Hongjoong never comes to the bar when Bang is there, and he's meticulous enough that it's obvious it's intentional. “What exactly does he do?”

“Oh, Hongjoong?” Bang knocks back his shot of whiskey in one gulp. It's cheap stuff, but he likes ordering it because he thinks it makes him look classy. “He's like some kind of tech genius or something. He made a food delivery app.”

“An app?”

“Yeah. You've probably used it. ForFood.”

“Oh.” Seonghwa frowns. He's used the app, of course he has. He sees ads for it everywhere, online and on TV. “He owns ForFood?”

“No.” Bang rolls his eyes like Seonghwa's some kind of idiot. “He created it. Once it took off, he sold it. He hasn't owned it in years.”

“Damn.” Seonghwa is genuinely impressed. “Why does he still work if he got rich from selling the app?”

Once again, Bang looks at Seonghwa like he's stupid.

“Why did Steve Jobs work until he died?”

Seonghwa doesn't know what to say. It just seems dumb to have that much money and keep working anyway, but he doesn't bother saying anything else. He pours Bang another shot of whiskey and walks away to take care of the other customers.

The next time Hongjoong shows up, he returns to the same barstool off to the side of the bar, spending almost the entire night half-hidden in the shadows.

He seems unusually shy as he accepts his usual beer, and doesn't say anything beyond what's necessary.

When things finally quiet down a little, Seonghwa writes his phone number on a napkin and hands it to him.

“If you want to do it again,” Seonghwa says casually. He figures Hongjoong might feel more comfortable arranging something like this over text. “You know where to find me now.”

Hongjoong nods, carefully folds the napkin, and tucks it into his wallet. He drinks one more beer, slides another fifty-dollar tip across the counter, and leaves before midnight.

At two in the morning, when Seonghwa finishes cleaning the bar, he checks his phone and finds a message.

Unknown Number:
Seonghwa, I'd like to do that again, if the offer still stands.

Seonghwa:
yeah. what do you want to do? 

HJ:
The same as last time, if that's okay with you.

Seonghwa:
same price

HJ:
Deal. Tomorrow, same time and place?

Seonghwa:
sure. see you then

Texting Hongjoong is like texting anyone else. He doesn't seem strange, out of place, or awkward. 

Later, Seonghwa realizes Hongjoong is just like everyone else, and there's no reason to think otherwise.

When Seonghwa opens the back door, Hongjoong is already there.

This time, it’s less awkward because Hongjoong already knows where to go. When Seonghwa kneels down and pulls down his pants and underwear, He's already hard and leaking, the head flushed a deep red, almost purple. 

It's a nice-sized cock. Exactly the kind he likes — not huge, but big enough when hard to give that delicious stretch without hurting. The kind you can suck comfortably and fuck comfortably.

“So hard for me today,” Seonghwa says, figuring he should say something to break the tense silence.

Hongjoong doesn't answer, but he bites his lower lip and stares at him as though he can't believe Seonghwa is kneeling at his feet. It's a little flattering.

Seonghwa knows now it'll be worth it. He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue just like the first time, when Hongjoong came too early, and drags the head of his cock slowly across it. This time, Hongjoong is leaking far more precum, and Seonghwa tastes its bitterness. It's strangely arousing in a way he hadn't expected.

His breathing quickens. The office is silent, making every sound seem much louder. Seonghwa closes his lips around the head and sucks. Hongjoong's thighs tremble. He moves his hands as though he wants to touch him, but hesitates.

Seonghwa likes giving messy blowjobs. He can feel saliva running down his chin, and through half-lidded eyes he looks up at Hongjoong. The man is paying five hundred dollars for a blowjob but is afraid to touch his hair, like he thinks it’s not allowed. Maybe he thinks Seonghwa will get angry if he does.

“Seonghwa…” he says, almost desperately.

He's pathetic, Seonghwa thinks, a little feverish. Hongjoong's cock twitches in his mouth, and Seonghwa lets out a low moan, making him feel the vibration. Hongjoong answers with a long, quiet sound and rocks his hips as though he can't help himself. He bucks once, then twice, before pulling away, his face twisted with pleasure as he starts to come.

He lasts a little longer than he did the first time, but not by much. This time, Seonghwa wraps a hand around him and strokes him through his orgasm, coaxing out every last drop.

When Hongjoong leaves, he once again leaves an envelope with the same six hundred dollars inside. 

Seonghwa buys a three-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bracelet he finds on sale at Tiffany and uses the rest of the money to buy all the good brands of food at the grocery store. 

He expects to feel dirty and used, but the feeling never comes.

The third time it happens, Seonghwa is already on his knees, Hongjoong's cock leaking precum in front of him when Hongjoong speaks. 

“Seonghwa,” he says politely, his voice only slightly shaky.

Seonghwa looks up at him, encouraging him to continue with a small nod.

“How much... uh, h-how much would you want to—”

Hongjoong cuts himself off, as though the words refuse to come out.

Seonghwa waits patiently. He doesn't try to guess what Hongjoong wants, even though he has an idea. He's thought about it—how long it would take before Hongjoong asked how much it'd cost to fuck more than just his mouth. He wasn't expecting the question this soon, but he's prepared to say no. Penetrative sex might make things too real.

Hongjoong takes a deep breath and tries again.

“How much would you want... to let me come in your mouth?”

“Oh.”

That’s not what Seonghwa was expecting. In fact, even though he hadn't really thought through the logistics when he made the offer the first time, he'd assumed the five hundred dollars covered the whole package.

“Do you just want to come in my mouth, or do you want me to swallow too?”

Hongjoong's eyes darken behind his lenses, and Seonghwa bites his lip as he watches the cock in front of him twitch. A bead of precum slides slowly down the shaft, tracing the same path as one of the raised veins.

“How much?” Hongjoong asks, his voice breaking. “For you to swallow?”

A small thrill runs through Seonghwa at the power in it. He's the one on his knees, but he feels like the one in control. Even though it's only the third time, it's as if he already knows this cock intimately.

Hongjoong trimmed his pubic hair. Seonghwa prefers men with more hair, but he's not the one who needs to be pleased. With a small smile, Seonghwa presses a kiss to the tip of Hongjoong's cock and feels him shiver. His mouth watering, he licks over the head and closes his eyes as he whispers, his lips only inches from that silky skin.

“A thousand.”

“Whatever you want,” Hongjoong answers immediately. He doesn't even blink.

For some inexplicable reason, that turns Seonghwa on: knowing there's a man who wants him badly enough to pay a thousand dollars just to come in his mouth.

“Slap your cock against my tongue,” Seonghwa says, his voice unsteady, sticking out his tongue the way Hongjoong likes.

Hongjoong looks lost for a few seconds at the request, staring blankly at Seonghwa kneeling on the floor in such an obscene position. Then he wraps a hand around the base of his cock and does as he's told. Seonghwa closes his eyes as he feels the weight of it against his tongue once, twice, three times—

He lets out a quiet moan and finally closes his mouth around the shaft once he's satisfied.

He's sloppier than usual, saliva running from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. He makes a point of maintaining as much eye contact as possible, watching the look of pure admiration and desire on Hongjoong's face.

Seonghwa pulls back slightly, runs his tongue over the slit, and tries to suppress a smile. He knows Hongjoong is close. He always comes so quickly.

“Fill my mouth with your cum,” Seonghwa murmurs before taking him back into his mouth.

And that's all it takes.

Hongjoong trembles, lets out a loud, muffled "Fuck," thrusts his hips with obvious loss of control, and starts to come. Throughout the entire orgasm, Seonghwa never stops.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong breathes, loud and ragged.

Seonghwa pulls back and opens his mouth to show that he swallowed.

“Fuck. You're so…”

He doesn't finish the sentence, but Seonghwa knows what he means. He doesn't usually feel desirable after work, when he's tired and a little disheveled, but right now he feels sexy, and he can't even explain why.

While Hongjoong gets dressed, Seonghwa stands up and realizes that beneath his work apron, he's hard.

He doesn't know what to do with that realization, but he has no intention of touching himself. Luckily, thanks to the uniform, no one but him can tell.

Before leaving, Hongjoong takes out the envelope he had prepared beforehand and then rummages through his wallet for another five hundred dollars, which is a little embarrassing, but Seonghwa accepts the money with a small bow and decides not to dwell on how strange the whole situation is. 

Before heading to his next shift, Seonghwa stops by Sephora and buys expensive makeup. He hides everything inside his new Marc Jacobs bag like a dirty little secret.

It becomes a routine.

They arrange to meet every Wednesday after Seonghwa gets off work. It's a terrible time, but it's practically impossible for either of them to make time on weekends.

Seonghwa keeps allowing himself little indulgences. He still can't afford truly expensive things like Gucci or Prada, but he can buy himself small gifts every week. He almost never spends the money on anything he actually needs, which only proves how little he really needs it.

Little by little, though, his closet starts filling up with little luxuries.

It's a Monday morning. Seonghwa has just gotten back from the gym when he gets a text from Hongjoong.

HJ:
I'd like to make you a proposal.
If you're interested in hearing it. 

“So formal,” Seonghwa mutters to himself as he finishes blending his morning smoothie.

Seonghwa:
yeah, sure
want to meet at the bar tonight?

HJ:
I'd rather talk about it here, if possible.

Seonghwa:
then go ahead

Seonghwa finishes his smoothie, but Hongjoong doesn't reply. He showers, cleans the apartment, makes lunch, and still nothing.

He starts getting nervous about what Hongjoong wants to say. Things are good the way they are. Seonghwa's gotten used to it. In fact, against all expectations, he actually enjoys giving Hongjoong blowjobs. These days, almost every time, he gets hard while doing it. He swallows every time now, and the money has been great.

By the time Hongjoong replies, Seonghwa is in the middle of a chaotic shift at the bar.

HJ:
You know what roleplay is, right?

“Oh, no,” Seonghwa blurts out when he reads the message. “Don't be a fucking weirdo—”

“Hwa?” Yeosang calls when he hears him. “What's wrong?”

Seonghwa quickly slips his phone into his back pocket and shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

As he serves drinks, Seonghwa thinks he really should've known from the beginning. Of course it was too good to be true. If Hongjoong wanted to discuss something over text instead of in person, it had to be something bizarre. If he wanted to play around with things like consensual non-consent or wear weird costumes, Seonghwa would have to back out.

And he'd actually been having fun. He didn't want to find out that, all this time, he'd been sucking off some complete weirdo. What if it was something as bizarre as age regression? Or one of those daddy kinks? Or even worse, what if he wanted Seonghwa to piss on him or something equally bizarre?

During a bathroom break, Seonghwa finally replies.

Seonghwa:
yeah, of course
but tell me, what's the proposal?
i'd rather you get straight to the point 

Seonghwa doesn't check his phone again until he gets home. He's surprised by how long Hongjoong's message is at first, and only then does he start reading it carefully. 

HJ:
I want to know if you'd be interested in roleplaying with me. I know there are a lot of details we'd have to work out, but I'll give you the general idea of what I want: I'd like you to wait for me at my house once or twice a week and pretend to be my partner. I wouldn't expect anything from you beyond taking care of a few simple things around the house, like making lunch or doing laundry. When I get home, I'd like to be able to hug and kiss you while you act like you genuinely like me. Like we're really in love with each other.
As for the sexual side of things, I'd like to continue with oral sex, but I'd also like to know whether you'd be willing to talk about expanding the boundaries of our current arrangement.
On those prearranged days, if you agree, I'll send you a detailed description of what I'd like, and you can say yes or no. Based on that, we can decide on a price.

After reading the message three times, Seonghwa has no idea what to say.

It's actually a pretty tame proposal. But it's still bizarre.

Is Hongjoong really so lonely he'd ask Seonghwa to pretend to love him? And how much money are they even talking about?

Seonghwa thoughtfully gets ready for bed. He does his skincare routine with the expensive products he bought using the money from the last blowjob, puts on a face mask, rubs lotion into his hands and feet, all while carefully considering the proposal.

Only once he's in bed, ready to go to sleep, does he reply.

Seonghwa:
we can try it once
i'll see how i feel
then we can decide whether we want to keep doing it

The next day, Hongjoong shows up at the bar. He's wearing a suit and tie, the most formally dressed he's ever been when coming there. 

“Were you at a funeral?” Seonghwa asks playfully as he walks over with his usual beer.

Hongjoong can look Seonghwa in the eyes now without blushing nearly as much, and can usually hold eye contact. They've had some pretty effective exposure therapy with all the time they've spent together lately. 

“Just a meeting,” Hongjoong says. He opens his hand over the counter, revealing a set of keys on a Spiderman keychain. “They're for my house.”

Seonghwa takes them.

“Thanks. I could use a new TV. Maybe I'll steal yours.”

That makes Hongjoong's lips twitch, like he wants to smile, but someone rudely calls for Seonghwa from the other side of the bar, and he has to walk away before hearing a reply.

Seonghwa doesn't have time to give Hongjoong any special attention while he's working, and Hongjoong knows that. He never asks for it. In fact, he hardly ever tries to get Seonghwa's attention unless it's to order another drink.

Even after their new arrangement, Hongjoong leaves after two beers. He pays, slides another fifty-dollar tip across the counter, and heads out.

Later that night, he texts Seonghwa an address.

Seonghwa:
i'm off this tuesday
any special requests?

HJ:
I get home from work around 6:20. I'll leave a change of clothes for you on the dining room table, and I'd like you to put it on without wearing anything underneath.
When I get home, I want to find you making dinner so I can hug you from behind and touch you a little.
Then we can have dinner and watch a movie together. Later that night, when we go to bed, I'd like you to give me oral and let me come in your mouth.

It's very specific, but Seonghwa figures that's probably how this sort of thing works. If Hongjoong wants to live out that fantasy, he probably doesn't want reminders that his supposed romantic partner is really just a prostitute who spends his nights tending bar. He probably won't want Seonghwa breaking the illusion.

Letting Hongjoong touch him goes a little beyond what they do now. But if Hongjoong had wanted the touching to be sexual, he would've specified that. He'd been so specific about everything else. 

After thinking it over carefully, Seonghwa replies:

Seonghwa:
1300 bucks

It's only three hundred dollars more than what he normally charges, and it seems like a fair price since the sexual part is basically the same as before. Besides, it's only an experiment. Seonghwa is also afraid of charging something outrageous. Should he talk to a prostitute to get a better idea of what the going rate is for this kind of service?

When Hongjoong agrees to the price, Seonghwa stops thinking about it.

Hongjoong lives in Gangnam, but his apartment isn't as big as the ones Seonghwa always sees in dramas. It's modest in size, with a fairly spacious kitchen and furniture that was clearly custom-made. 

On the dining table sits a Louis Vuitton gift box. Seonghwa's stomach flutters the moment he sees it, and he immediately opens it. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, is a white robe. He runs a hand over the fabric carefully. It's one of the softest things he's ever touched. Even the scent is nice. 

He already took a long, thorough shower at home, shaving every inch of his body, but he takes another shower in Hongjoong's fancy bathroom before putting on the robe with nothing underneath, just as he'd been instructed.

He's washing the dishes after finishing dinner when he hears someone entering the passcode at the front door.

Seonghwa tenses for a brief moment. He thinks about turning around to look, but relaxes and keeps scrubbing the spoons.

He hears footsteps, and then someone wraps their arms around him from behind. Seonghwa relaxes when he recognizes Hongjoong's scent, somehow already so familiar. He's spent enough time between his legs to have gotten used to it.

“Baby,” Hongjoong says, the word lingering on his tongue. He buries his face in the back of Seonghwa's neck and inhales the scent of his hair. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby,” Seonghwa murmurs sweetly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks for the gift, by the way. I love it.”

“Anything you want,” he repeats, the same words he'd said weeks ago when he'd asked to come in Seonghwa's mouth. The pleasure of hearing them again is almost dizzying. “...smell good.”

“It's just pasta.”

"Not the food." Hongjoong rubs his nose against the back of Seonghwa's neck, warm breath brushing over the skin still fresh from his shower. "You."

“Oh, really?” Seonghwa closes his eyes as he feels feather-light kisses against his neck. “I just got out of the shower. I didn't even have time to get dressed yet.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong murmurs. He stiffens for a second before relaxing again. Seonghwa enjoys getting a reaction out of him. “So you're going to have dinner like this? Naked under that robe for me?”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa doesn't hesitate. “I want you to have easy access whenever you need me.”

“Fuck, baby,” Hongjoong groans, rolling his hips. Holding him from behind like this, Seonghwa can feel the weight of his erection. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

A shiver runs through Seonghwa.

It's all an act, but it feels strangely real.

When he turns off the faucet, he slowly faces Hongjoong and finds his eyes dark with desire, his face flushed.

“Why don't you go take a shower while I set the table?”

Hongjoong doesn't seem to want to let go, but he slowly nods. After a brief hesitation, he removes his hands from Seonghwa's waist and drifts toward one of the apartment's bathrooms.

Only after Seonghwa hears the water running through the pipes does he begin setting the table.

A few minutes later, Hongjoong appears in the dining room wearing a hoodie, his hair still damp. He holds up a bottle of wine.

“I picked it up on the way home.”

“Oh, good! I love wine!”

“I know.” Hongjoong smiles as he takes the seat across from Seonghwa. “I'm your husband. Of course I know what you like.”

Whenever Seonghwa has a drink at the bar, it's always wine. Hongjoong has been coming often enough to know that by now. But of course neither of them is going to mention it — in this little fantasy they're living, Seonghwa isn't a prostitute.

Seonghwa serves dinner.

The entire time, Hongjoong's eyes stay fixed on him with quiet interest. When the robe slips open just enough to expose one of his nipples, Seonghwa doesn't bother covering himself. He notices the look, the way Hongjoong tries not to stare, the way all that exposed skin seems to distract him, but he doesn't say anything.

He's paying thirteen hundred fucking dollars for this.

He can look all he wants.

“How was work today?” Seonghwa asks, brushing his feet against Hongjoong's under the table. “Any more boring meetings?”

“No meetings.” Hongjoong rubs his feet against Seonghwa's in return. “But it was interesting. I helped a few interns with a project. One of them seems promising.”

“Lucky guy.” Seonghwa smiles warmly. “He must be happy to have a prodigy like you around.”

Hongjoong blushes and looks away, though there's a satisfied smile on his face that he tries to hide behind his wine glass.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I bought myself something nice.” It's not a lie, Seonghwa thinks with a smile. Before coming to the apartment, he'd walked past a luxury boutique in Gangnam and fallen in love with a seven-hundred-dollar gold chain. He'd allowed himself another little indulgence. “Then I had an amazing shower.. Fell asleep watching a movie before I started making dinner.”

Hongjoong nods, looking genuinely pleased as he reaches across the table and takes one of Seonghwa's hands.

“That's what you should do every day,” he says, almost dreamily. “Beautiful things shouldn't have to worry about anything. They shouldn't have to work.”

Seonghwa almost laughs.

He's been working since he was fifteen years old, but saying that would ruin the fantasy. So he simply nods and swallows a sarcastic comment along with another bite of pasta.

They mostly talk about trivial things. Hongjoong tells him about work. Apparently Bang made a mistake and got written up, and a man named San is about to be promoted. He talks as though Seonghwa is supposed to know who those people are.

When they finish eating, Hongjoong starts gathering the dirty dishes.

“You pick the movie while I do the dishes,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to Seonghwa's forehead before walking away.

Seonghwa can't believe he's getting paid thirteen hundred dollars to have dinner in a robe and watch a movie. As he scrolls through Netflix, he realizes he hasn't had a quiet moment like this in a long time. He works mostly nights, which means he sleeps in late. He barely turns on the TV during the week, and weekends are the worst — the bar is always packed.

“Can we watch a horror movie?” Seonghwa calls from the living room.

“Whatever you want,” Hongjoong answers from the kitchen.

Seonghwa picks a horror movie that looks decent. When Hongjoong comes back, he wants them to curl up together on the couch, and Seonghwa lets him without a second thought. He rests his head against Hongjoong's chest and breathes in the clean scent of his shower. Hongjoong keeps good products in his bathroom, most of them high-end. He's always smelled clean, and that's one of the reasons Seonghwa has tolerated their arrangement for so long.

Halfway through the movie, Seonghwa falls asleep. He feels the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong's chest, the muffled rhythm of his heartbeat, and wakes abruptly when he feels fingers brushing the hair away from his face.

“Baby,” Hongjoong whispers. “You missed the movie.”

“Sorry.” Seonghwa rubs his cheek against Hongjoong's chest and takes a deep breath. “Was it good?”

“It was kind of bad. You didn't miss much.”

“Good thing I fell asleep then.”

Hongjoong gets up, and they go into the bathroom with the double vanity. There's a brand-new toothbrush waiting there, proof that Hongjoong thought of every detail. They brush their teeth side by side, as though they really are life partners, and then they go to bed together.

“I thought about you all day.” His voice is rough in the dim bedroom as his hands pull Seonghwa closer the moment he climbs into bed. Hongjoong always used to hesitate before touching him, but now that he has permission, he does it with the greed of someone who's been starving. “You're really not wearing anything under the robe, baby?”

“No. Why would I wear clothes when I know you're coming home?” The words come so naturally that it almost feels like this really is his life. He can almost believe the fantasy himself.

Hongjoong says something too quietly to make out, and Seonghwa lets out a soft moan as unfamiliar fingers slide along his thighs. He has to fight his first instinct to close his legs, but Hongjoong doesn’t touch anywhere truly intimate. He simply runs his hand along the side of Seonghwa's body, as though he needs to make sure there isn't any fabric in the way. 

When he realizes there's nothing underneath, he lets out a satisfied sound.

“Come on, baby. Let me take care of you,” Seonghwa purrs.

After a night like this, it feels wrong to give him the quick, sloppy blowjob he usually does in the office behind the bar. Instead, Seonghwa crawls over Hongjoong's body, settles between his legs, and rubs his face against the obvious bulge beneath his sweatpants. He's not wearing underwear, and Seonghwa drags his mouth along the length of his cock, feeling his own arousal steadily build.

“I love your cock,” Seonghwa says lovingly, and the lie comes so easily it almost sounds like the truth. Above him, Hongjoong lets out a sound that seems to come from deep in his throat. “I love how perfectly it fits in my mouth.”

“Do you like it inside you?” Hongjoong asks, his voice breaking with pleasure.

In real life, Seonghwa has never had Hongjoong inside him. But this isn't real life, it's just a fantasy.

“I love having you inside me,” he agrees. “I love falling asleep with your cum dripping out of me.”

“Baby, fuck—”

Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong's sweatpants down, exposing him completely, then runs his tongue from base to tip. His cock practically jumps, so hard that the head has turned dark and swollen, already glistening with pre-cum. Seonghwa licks everything he can reach, circles his tongue around the crown, then moves lower.

“Can you tell how much I love sucking your cock?” Seonghwa brushes his wet mouth over Hongjoong's tight balls before taking them gently into his mouth. Hongjoong lets out a loud sound somewhere between surprise and pleasure, and his cock pulses so hard that, for a second, Seonghwa thinks he's already come. “I'm addicted to it.”

“You're so good to me.” Hongjoong rocks his hips against the bed in desperation, chasing more friction. “I love your mouth, baby. It's perfect.”

Seonghwa presses one more kiss to one of his balls before taking his cock all the way into his mouth. Oh, yeah. Hongjoong's the perfect size. He barely has to apply any pressure with his lips before he feels the contractions growing stronger. Then, with a low groan, Hongjoong comes hard.

Seonghwa doesn't even think before swallowing it all now. It's become second nature. 

Careful to keep his body covered by the robe, Seonghwa lies down beside him and smiles.

“Did you like it?”

As always, Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa as though he can't quite believe what he's seeing. He nods and rests a hand on Seonghwa's hip over the robe.

“It's always good,” he whispers.

Seonghwa sighs and rests his head against one of the pillows.

Suddenly, he feels exhausted.

When he wakes up, there's an envelope on the nightstand, something Seonghwa only notices after showering and changing back into his own clothes. 

Inside are fifteen hundred dollars.

Seonghwa slips the money into the bottom of his backpack and leaves.

There's one obvious flaw in Hongjoong's proposal: Seonghwa doesn't have much free time. They work opposite schedules, and Seonghwa rarely has a night off. He works at the bar almost every evening, and his shift doesn't end until after two in the morning.

Besides, he has family and friends. It's not like he can devote every free night to Hongjoong, or people will start wondering if something's wrong, and he isn't ready to share that dirty little secret with anyone.

When Seonghwa tells him, once again, that he won't be able to come over that week (his only day off happens to be Yunho's birthday), Hongjoong doesn't give up.

HJ:
You can come after work and spend the night at my place. 

At first, Seonghwa wants to say no. He's always exhausted after work.

But he doesn't want to let Hongjoong down again.

Seonghwa:
tell me what you want

HJ:
I want you to lie next to me in bed wearing one of my shirts.
You can sleep and rest.
In the morning, before I leave for work, I want to climb on top of you and rub my cock against your ass until I come.

It's very specific, but it always is. Hongjoong is meticulous about what he wants, and this is much more intimate than anything they've done before because this time it involves access, almost unrestricted access, to Seonghwa’s body. Up until now, everything has revolved mainly around Hongjoong.

This is new.

When Seonghwa takes too long to answer, Hongjoong sends another message.

HJ:
You can always say no, and we can negotiate something else within your boundaries.

Seonghwa knows Hongjoong could never ask for something like that face-to-face, which is why he always negotiates things over text first. He's much better at communicating that way.

Maybe the Hongjoong who texts him is the real Hongjoong, the one underneath all that self-consciousness.

Does he want Hongjoong rubbing himself against his ass? He isn't sure.

It seems like a lot, but at the same time it isn't a line he absolutely can't cross. Seonghwa's had sex before — plenty of bad sex, at that — and never got anything out of it.

How much should he charge?

This is new. It’s more than a blowjob, but it doesn’t require much effort from Seonghwa, since Hongjoong apparently plans to do all the work. All he has to do is lie there and let him. 

Seonghwa:
okay
same price as before 💸 

The apartment in Gangnam is quiet.

There's the hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of a clock in the living room, but everything is dark except for a few soft lights guiding the way to the master bedroom. 

Seonghwa showers in the guest bathroom. He's meticulous. His body aches after a long shift at the bar, and he nearly falls asleep as the hot water beats against his shoulders.

He dries himself carefully and pads into the bedroom on tiptoe. Lying on the empty side of the bed is a shirt. It smells like Hongjoong, the same expensive cologne he always wears. 

When Seonghwa lies down beside him, Hongjoong cracks one eye open. “Good night, baby.”

His voice is rough with sleep, barely more than a whisper. Seonghwa rests his head on the pillow and smiles fondly. Hongjoong places a hand on his stomach, as though he needs the physical contact, then falls back asleep. 

Seonghwa wakes when Hongjoong gets out of bed, but he can barely react. He's exhausted, and he never wakes up before sunrise. He only shifts enough to roll onto his stomach.

He hears footsteps, the closet opening and closing, and the pipes groan as the shower turns on. 

At some point, Seonghwa falls asleep again.

He wakes when he feels the mattress dip.

It's too warm under the blankets, and Seonghwa lets out a quiet sigh of relief when Hongjoong gently pulls him to one side, exposing his bare legs to the cool air from the AC.

“So pretty,” Hongjoong murmurs. 

Something brushes against his thighs, and Seonghwa shivers, unconsciously rolling his hips in small circles. Hongjoong's fingers are cold and slightly damp.

“Shh, baby. You don't have to move. I'll take care of it.”

Seonghwa had said the first time would be a test. What he realized, though, was that strange as it had seemed at first, he could lose himself in the fantasy too. He wouldn't have done it a second time if he hadn't gotten something out of it — something beyond money. He hadn't found it creepy or weird. He'd found it strangely comforting, and now he understands the appeal of it. It feels good to be loved.

Inside that carefully constructed fantasy, Hongjoong is less strange too. He's like an affectionate husband who's perpetually, hopelessly turned on. Seonghwa likes the idea of being a spoiled, wealthy husband who spends his days buying pretty things and looking beautiful. He thinks he deserves that. He's worked hard enough. 

Hongjoong places his hands on Seonghwa's ass and spreads his cheeks apart. Seonghwa buries his face in the pillow as the seconds drag on, and it’s obvious Hongjoong is staring at his exposed hole. 

“Fuck,” Hongjoong murmurs, low and rough. Seonghwa trembles and tenses when he feels Hongjoong's hard, heavy cock press against him. “It's insane how fucking gorgeous you are... fuck, honey, I…”

Hongjoong lies on top of him, grinding his hips between Seonghwa’s ass cheeks, and bites his shoulder through the shirt. It stings in a good way. Seonghwa lets out a muffled sound into the pillow and rocks his hips, unable to stay still. The weight of Hongjoong’s cock is arousing, and his hole throbs around nothing as he feels a familiar need to have something inside him. 

“I can't believe you're mine,” Hongjoong murmurs dreamily. He sounds completely lost in the moment as the head of his cock presses insistently against him. He doesn't try to push inside. Just the teasing of it—just the idea—

Seonghwa feels his own cock, hard and damp against the mattress, and the pressure is heavenly. He hasn't come with Hongjoong a single time since their arrangement began, and he doesn't know what to do with the heavy, burning arousal making his balls ache.

“You're mine,” Hongjoong repeats against his ear, kissing the back of his neck while his hips settle into a rougher rhythm. “Mine. Only mine.”

“I’m yours,” Seonghwa agrees, his voice muffled into the pillow. 

Hongjoong lets out a low, satisfied sound deep in his chest, and Seonghwa starts fucking the mattress, so turned on he can barely think. He wants something inside him. He wants Hongjoong to just fill him with his cock, hard and deep, and come inside him.

He has to bite his lip to keep from saying it out loud. He loses himself in the fantasy. He grips the pillow hard, feels Hongjoong’s cock twitch against him, and then he comes with a muffled moan.

Hongjoong tenses for a second, then: “You came?”

Seonghwa, still shaking, just nods because he can’t find his words.

“Oh,” Hongjoong shifts his hips again, hard, then again. “This is so fucking good, I can’t believe you—oh, fuck—”

Hongjoong comes with a long, broken sound. He keeps thrusting in short, messy motions through his orgasm, and Seonghwa just lets him. He goes slack, a buzzing satisfaction under his skin.

“I made a mess on the bed,” Seonghwa barely recognizes his own voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hongjoong says as he moves. When the warm weight leaves his body, Seonghwa feels cold. “Stay there for me. I’ll clean you up.”

Seonghwa stays. He lets Hongjoong clean him, then shifts onto the clean side of the bed, curling back under the blankets with his eyes closed. He hears footsteps, drawers opening and closing, then running water. He yawns, half asleep.

A few minutes later, Hongjoong comes back and kisses his forehead goodbye.

“I’m leaving,” he says softly.

“Good work, baby,” Seonghwa replies obediently, opening his eyes just enough to look at him.

Once again, it looks like Hongjoong is staring at something precious. The expression on his face is openly affectionate, almost too raw. Seonghwa watches him hesitate before finally turning and leaving the room.

Hongjoong leaves an envelope on the dining table. As usual, Seonghwa counts the bills.

There are two thousand dollars inside, much more than they originally agreed on. When he gets home, he puts the money in his sock drawer, alongside the fifteen hundred from last time. He still hasn’t spent it. He doesn’t know what to buy.

In the kitchen sink, he washes his hands.

One night during Seonghwa's shift, Hongjoong shows up. 

“How was work today?” Seonghwa asks as he sets a beer down in front of him, already opened.

It’s a quiet day at the bar, one of his favorites. Because it’s raining, there are small drops of water on the shoulders of Hongjoong’s shirt, and the ends of his hair are slightly wet.

“The usual,” Hongjoong replies, holding the beer with both hands. “Everything quiet here?” 

“The usual,” Seonghwa smiles as he speaks. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked, but what do you actually do at ATEEZ?”

“It’s boring,” Hongjoong says. His voice is always low, and Seonghwa leans both elbows on the counter and angles himself closer to hear better. “I mostly work with AI now. It’s the job of the future.”

“Good thing no AI can serve beer,” Seonghwa lightly taps the bottle, right above where Hongjoong’s fingers are. “Otherwise it might steal my job.”

Before Hongjoong can answer, a new customer shows up. Seonghwa politely serves shots of tequila, then chats with one of the regulars who always wants to know about his life, and when he returns to Hongjoong, he has already finished his first drink, so Seonghwa brings him another.

“I won’t be here tomorrow,” Seonghwa says, not sure why he mentions it, since Hongjoong usually doesn’t come to the bar two days in a row. Just in case. “It’s a friend’s birthday.”

“Alright,” Hongjoong looks down at his beer. “Have fun.”

“Thanks.”

Seonghwa wipes away the round ring of condensation left by the beer bottle and steps away to attend another customer. 

Wooyoung is nursing a whiskey while Yeosang talks to a tall, muscular guy at the counter when Seonghwa pulls Yunho to the back of the bar and, slightly drunk, tells him what he’s been doing in secret with Hongjoong.

“He needs a psychologist,” is the first thing Yunho says. He doesn’t sound condescending, just unusually serious. “He’s paying someone to live out a fantasy because he’s apparently scared of people.”

“Is that a diagnosis or something?” 

Yunho, despite being a psychiatrist, shakes his head.

“Of course not. We can’t diagnose someone like that. That would be irresponsible.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know why he finally opened up about it, but the secret suddenly feels too big to keep. Of all his friends, Yunho is the easiest to talk to. 

“You told me I should take advantage of him,” Seonghwa says. 

“That’s not what I said,” Yunho scoffs, then takes a long drag from his cigarette. He exhales before continuing. “I said you should go out with the guy and enjoy the money. I didn’t say you should charge for sex. That’s… I don’t even know what word to use without sounding offensive.”

“You think he’s crazy?”

“That word is kind of offensive. But he probably needs to talk to someone about his insecurities and work through it in therapy.”

“He’s not even that weird,” Seonghwa defends. He takes the cigarette from Yunho. He doesn’t even like smoking, but suddenly feels like he needs it. “Once you get used to him, he’s actually kind of nice.”

“Is that the money talking?” Yunho asks.

“No.” The answer comes so fast it surprises even Seonghwa. “The money is good, but I wouldn’t keep doing it if it felt degrading or anything. Honestly, most of the time I even like it. And it’s funny because I never would’ve done it without the money. He wasn’t attractive before.”

“He is now?”

Seonghwa doesn’t answer. He puts the cigarette to his lips and closes his eyes.

He thinks about Hongjoong. He’s small, strangely thin, but there are muscles under his clothes. He has a bad haircut, too long, covering part of his face. He wears good clothes, but they rarely match. He hides behind glasses that are too big for him.

But he smells good. Seonghwa likes his voice. He has a nice smile. Even lazy morning sex with Seonghwa is worth two thousand dollars to him. 

Is Hongjoong attractive? He can’t really tell anymore.  Suddenly, he feels trapped in that fantasy.

By the time Hongjoong gets home from work, Seonghwa is already finishing dinner. The apartment smells deliciously of grilled steak, and Hongjoong sneaks a bite of the potatoes au gratin before wrapping his arms around Seonghwa from behind and burying his face in his hair.

“Shower first,” Seonghwa warns, though he sounds amused, giving him a light smack on the ass to send him toward the bathroom, and Hongjoong goes without protest. 

Seonghwa sets the table with practiced care. By now, he knows exactly where all the nice dishes are kept. He lights a scented candle, dims the lights, and adjusts the thermostat. Rain falls outside, and there’s something strangely comforting about the rain pattering against the windows. 

“I hope you like your steak medium-rare,” Seonghwa says as he serves their plates. “I made it the way I like it,” Seonghwa adds. 

“You're the important one,” Hongjoong says easily. A small, content smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I'd eat rocks if you cooked them.”

That makes Seonghwa laugh.

They sit across from each other, sip their wine, and brush their feet together beneath the table.

“What about San? Did he figure out that problem with the Python code at work?”

“More or less.” Hongjoong brushes his toes against Seonghwa’s ankle while cutting into his steak. “He's still reluctant to use AI. Thinks it's going to take everyone's jobs or something. In the end, I had an AI identify the issue in his code, and we managed to fix it.”

“Nice.” Seonghwa closes his eyes as he chews the meat. It's tender and juicy, the kind of steak he'd never buy for himself because it costs a small fortune. “And what about that annoying intern?”

“Nothing's changed,” he sighs, drizzling dressing over his salad. “But he barely comes by my office these days. He adopted Mingi as his new best friend.”

“Lucky us,” Seonghwa says, lifting his wine glass in a toast.

Their glasses clink together, and Hongjoong's smile grows.

They keep talking. Hongjoong likes it when Seonghwa asks about his day, and at some point it stopped feeling like an obligation and started to feel like genuine curiosity. Seonghwa has never worked in an office before, and he never realized how petty people could get in offices. Turns out corporate life is full of juicy gossip. 

After dinner, Hongjoong does the dishes. They watch two episodes of the show they’d started together, then brush their teeth side by side at the double sink.

When it's time for bed, it was getting harder and harder to keep playing the loving husband, because excitement was simmering low in Seonghwa’s stomach. Dressed in nothing but the Louis Vuitton robe, he'd felt the weight of Hongjoong's gaze on him all evening.

Seonghwa doesn't bother with subtlety. Newlyweds are supposed to fuck before bed, right? The novelty of it must be what gets people so worked up, or something like that. Seonghwa, who's never had a long-term relationship, couldn't really say.

He lets Hongjoong kiss his neck, then quickly slides his pants down. Their bodies pressed together, their cocks brushing, hard and needy, and Seonghwa rolls his hips against him until he comes, just the way Hongjoong had asked that morning.

They fall asleep with their bodies pressed together. 

After all, in this fantasy, they were in love. 

HJ:
Is anal sex negotiable for you?

Ah. The question. Finally.

Seonghwa has been wondering when it would come, the moment Hongjoong would finally get bold enough to ask.

Up until now, Seonghwa had been able to fool himself. It was like he'd carved out a safe little space in his own mind, pretending this wasn't really prostitution because it still didn't involve penetration.

Months ago, when he was still on his knees sucking Hongjoong's cock on the office floor at the bar, he would've turned him down immediately. Anal sex had been completely off the table because it would’ve made the whole thing real. There would've been no denying what they were doing anymore.

But now...

He remembers how it felt having Hongjoong’s cock rubbing against his ass, the way he'd wanted to be fucked, and he can't stop thinking about it.

They’d come a long way to get to this question, and Hongjoong had been strangely smart to wait until now to ask it. He'd never once tried to push Seonghwa's boundaries, even when Seonghwa's ass had been right there, completely available to him. He'd never been rough, never demanded anything beyond what they'd agreed to.

One thing Seonghwa knows now, after months of spending time with Hongjoong, is that for all his oddness, he was intelligent. Perceptive. He's asking now because he already knows what the answer is going to be.

And that's—

Seonghwa doesn't know the right word for it.

It was just smart of him, to move slowly, to be patient, making sure he'll get what he wants in the end.

Seonghwa:
what exactly are you thinking?

Hongjoong isn't a virgin anymore — not after everything they've done together. But he probably had been that night, back in the cramped office at the bar. Seonghwa had realized it from how unsure he was, how he didn’t know what to do, from how he liked as if he didn’t have permission to touch him, and from the way he'd come embarrassingly fast.

And that was fine.

Not everyone loses their virginity young, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's actually kind of cute that he'd still been a virgin. Seonghwa is glad Hongjoong got to experience those things in a safe enough situation — he probably felt more in control knowing he was paying for it, that it was okay if he finished too soon, because they'd both walk away happy in the end, each in their own way.

But Seonghwa knows Hongjoong has probably never put his cock inside anyone, so he spends a long time lying on the couch in his apartment with three fingers inside himself. He stretches himself for what feels like hours because it's been a long time since he last had this kind of sex. 

He wants it to be easy for Hongjoong. He doesn't want him worrying about the logistics of sex with another man — and he doesn't want to get hurt either, in case Hongjoong gets too impatient.

Only when he's relaxed, open, and dripping wet does Seonghwa slide an anal plug into himself. It makes him feel filthy in the best way, aroused by the thought of the perverted little secret hidden beneath his clothes. It feels sluttier than it really is, because he's mostly doing it for practical reasons, but at the same time, he's never felt more confident.

Hongjoong wants him so badly that it's honestly flattering.

He loves it.

When he sees Hongjoong's car pulling into the building, Seonghwa carefully removes the anal plug and leaves it on the bathroom sink before applying more lube, for good measure. He likes to make sure he’s properly wet. 

In nothing but a silk robe loosely tied at his waist, Seonghwa pours two glasses of wine, excitement coursing through his veins. The moment the plug is gone, he feels the emptiness inside himself, and all he can think about is being filled again as soon as possible.

“You're late,” Seonghwa complains when Hongjoong finally walks into the apartment. He stays by the marble kitchen island, leaning against it, lifting his glass to his lips. The wine tastes sweet. “I've been waiting for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa like he can barely believe what he's seeing. His gaze lingers on the bare chest exposed by the silk robe before dropping to his naked legs, his eyes darkening. “I'm here now.”

“Works for me,” Seonghwa purrs.

He doesn't even have to try to sound seductive, because he feels good like this. He's never felt this hot before. The feeling is intoxicating. He finishes his wine without taking his eyes off Hongjoong.

When Seonghwa turns his back to him, facing the kitchen counter, he fills his glass again. Before he can turn around, arms wrap around him from behind, and he sighs.

Ah. Hongjoong is already hard as a rock.

“Happy to see me?” It's cliché, but Seonghwa hears his own voice come out rough, as if it belongs to someone else. “You came home from work already hard for me?” 

“You never left my mind.” There's a raw honesty in Hongjoong's voice.

“You should work from home from now on,” Seonghwa pushes the wine glasses aside without caring if he spills any, then simply bends over the kitchen counter, resting his chest against the marble while sticking his ass up in the air. The robe is so short it rides up with the movement, leaving his ass completely exposed in the middle of the kitchen, an open invitation. “So you can fuck me whenever you want during the day.”

Hongjoong goes silent, perfectly still, and Seonghwa knows he's taking in the view. He feels like a prostitute as he slowly rolls his hips from side to side, just for Hongjoong's enjoyment.

And that's exactly what he is.

“Baby, you're so—” Hongjoong slides one finger against Seonghwa’s hole. After hours with the plug, he knows he's open, relaxed, and dripping wet. “Fuck, this is—”

“I got myself ready for you.” Seonghwa looks back over his shoulder through half-lidded eyes. His hard cock hangs heavily between his legs, his balls tight with arousal. “All you have to do now is put your cock inside me.”

Hongjoong quickly unbuttons his pants, his eyes darting everywhere. He looks at Seonghwa's hole, then at his face, as if he can't decide which one deserves his attention more.

But Seonghwa can’t wait. He's been on edge all day, desperate for this moment. He rocks his hips, needy, burning with want.

“Come on, baby. Fuck me. I need this. I need your cock—”

Before Seonghwa can finish the sentence, Hongjoong thrusts into him in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt.

It doesn't hurt. Seonghwa had prepared himself well, and everything is slick and hot. A loud moan slips out of him as he pushes back against Hongjoong, rolling his hips in circles, desperate to feel his cock every inch of him.

“Oh, fuck.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong grabs his hips with both hands. The force of being filled all at once sends a shudder through his entire body, and the sensation of being completely full brings an almost painful relief. He loves this. Loves Hongjoong's cock. The size is perfect. “I've been waiting for this all day.”

Hongjoong lets out a low sound, almost as though he's in pain.

Then he starts fucking him with rough, steady thrusts, driving Seonghwa's body into the marble countertop. The wet slap of flesh against flesh echoes through the kitchen, mixing with Seonghwa's loud, uncontrolled moans.

Suddenly it's simply too much, but somehow, still not enough.

With every thrust, the silk robe slips farther down, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel the strength of Hongjoong's grip on his hips and knows there will be bruises to admire later—and he loves that. Loves the idea of being claimed, of being marked.

“I love it when you look desperate for it,” Hongjoong murmurs above him, his voice rough with lust. “It's so fucking hot when you enjoy it.”

Seonghwa lets out a high-pitched cry, his head falling forward until his face presses against the cold marble. The friction is perfect; between the lube and the way the plug had stretched him open, every thrust slides in effortlessly, but Hongjoong's strength makes it almost too much.

"Your cock was made for me," Seonghwa says, to stroke Hongjoong’s ego, partly because he truly believes it. He rolls his hips back against him, trying to take every last inch. "Fuck me, baby—"

Seonghwa had known from the very beginning that Hongjoong wasn't going to last. He was still far too inexperienced, and he'd never felt the heat of a hole wrapped around his cock before. But Seonghwa had spent the entire day teetering on the edge, and as Hongjoong's thrusts grow rougher, harder, almost punishing in their lack of control, he reaches down to stroke himself.

He can tell Hongjoong is close. 

“Come on,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Fill me up. I wanna go to sleep with my hole dripping, ah—”

“Baby, fuck, I—”

That’s it. 

Hongjoong changes the angle, pulling one of Seonghwa's hips higher, spreading him even wider before driving into him with renewed force.

Seonghwa's cock begins to pulse, beads of pre-cum dripping onto the marble countertop. He feels Hongjoong's body flush against his back, their sweat mixing, the unmistakable scent of sex filling the room. They're both slick with perspiration now, and Seonghwa loves every second of it.

“I'm gonna... I'm gonna come!” Seonghwa cries out.

“Come for me, Hwa. You look so beautiful when you come, you're so—”

With one final, impossibly deep thrust that feels like it reaches his soul, Seonghwa shatters. He comes hard across the marble, his entire body trembling as his hole clenches helplessly around Hongjoong's cock in desperate, tight, involuntary spasms. 

Hongjoong answers with a low growl.

Three more quick, deep thrusts—all the way to the hilt—and he spills a thick, hot load deep inside Seonghwa.

“So warm... so tight…” Hongjoong breathes through the aftershocks.

He stays buried inside him the entire time, milking out every last drop. Only once his cock begins to soften does he finally pull out.

Seonghwa can picture exactly what he looks like now: bent over the counter, his hole stretched open as it slowly tries to close, semen steadily leaking out. He knows how intoxicating the sight is, so he proudly puts himself on display beneath Hongjoong's gaze.

He wants him to look. To enjoy it.

“Good?” Seonghwa asks lazily, glancing back over his shoulder.

Looking completely mesmerized, Hongjoong reaches out and gently pushes the cum back inside. Seonghwa moans, his oversensitive cock giving a small twitch.

“It looks wrecked,” Hongjoong murmurs, almost reverently.

“You wrecked it.”

Hongjoong looks like he wants to say something, but instead he simply swallows.

Seonghwa would've let him admire the view a little longer, but his lower back is starting to ache. He straightens up and adjusts the silk robe over his body while Hongjoong pulls his pants back on.

With slightly trembling fingers, Seonghwa grabs the wine glasses and hands one to Hongjoong. They clink them together before finish the wine in one go.

Afterward, they shower together.

Hongjoong talks about San, about Bang, about the intern who accidentally sent the wrong email to every client, and complains about a program the cybersecurity team removed from everyone’s computers.

Seonghwa tells him Yeosang is now obsessed with a new cocktail and mentions that Yunho says good morning to ChatGPT every day. Hongjoong mutters that it's a waste of water.

When they finally get into bed, Seonghwa climbs onto Hongjoong's cock because he's still turned on, and because they’re married. 

It’s the least he can do after a long day. 

The next morning, when he wakes up, Seonghwa takes a long shower and changes into his own clothes. He uses Hongjoong's ridiculously expensive coffee maker and pours himself a bowl of cereal he finds in one of the cabinets. Staring at the empty, silent apartment, he wishes he didn't have to work another shift at the bar.

When he reaches for his phone, which is charging on the nightstand, he notices a familiar envelope. 

Only then does it hit him that he'd never actually told Hongjoong how much anal sex would cost. He'd never named a price.

When he opens the envelope, Seonghwa counts the bills.

Five thousand dollars.

“That's a shitload of money,” he mutters to the empty apartment.

Then, without giving it much thought, he slips the money back into the envelope and leaves it where it is.

He still has three thousand five hundred dollars untouched in his sock drawer. 

Hongjoong shows up at the bar that night a little later than usual. He's dressed casually, his hair still damp from a recent shower.

It's Wednesday, and business is slow.

“I'm making you a Brazilian drink,” Seonghwa says as soon as he walks over. “It's called a caipirinha.”

“Nice,” Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa is meticulous at work. Mixing drinks isn't normally part of his job; there's a bartender who handles that, but he knows the basics. 

When he sets the glass down in front of Hongjoong, he's quietly proud of the result.

“It's good,” Hongjoong says. It sounds completely genuine, and it makes Seonghwa smile. “A little strong, but weirdly sweet.”

“Thanks.”

Seonghwa steps away to take care of the customers waiting at the bar. He serves drinks, washes a few glasses, and has to break up an argument between a couple at one of the tables.

By the time he comes back, Hongjoong has already finished the cocktail.

“You left your payment at my place,” Hongjoong murmurs as Seonghwa replaces the empty glass with a beer. He almost sounds embarrassed saying it, which doesn’t make any sense to him.

“I didn't leave it,” Seonghwa replies simply. A customer tries to get his attention, but Seonghwa ignores him. “I don't want it.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says flatly. “Ah.”

Seonghwa looks at him.

Hongjoong is still the exact same man who walked into this bar for the first time. He looks the same, still carries himself like he wants to disappear into the background, still has that dorky haircut, still wears those terrible glasses.

He’s exactly the same, but Seonghwa sees him differently now 

Somehow, he realizes he's attracted to him.

“Do you want to ask me out to dinner?” Seonghwa asks.

There had been a time, after falling for one asshole after another, when he never felt like he was enough. He'd always been afraid of rejection, of caring more than the other person ever would.

But with Hongjoong… He just knows. Hongjoong looks at him like Seonghwa is something divine. He respects boundaries. He's awkward, shy, but unfailingly kind.

“You want that?” Hongjoong asks quietly, almost like he's afraid Seonghwa might be making fun of him. 

Seonghwa smiles.

“Yeah, of course.” He wipes down the counter. "At your place? You can cook this time."

Hongjoong smiles back, showing those pretty little teeth of his.

And that was that.