“Not to be rude or whatever,” Jooheon is saying as he steps into the lobby of their new office building and flashes his ID badge to the terribly sleepy and adorably portly security guard, “but how in the fuck did you get this internship?”
“I test surprisingly well. And people like me when I interview. It’s the lips,” Changkyun drawls, tapping his cupid’s bow with a tan index finger.
“Part of me is offended and the other part is proud,” Jooheon replies, pulling Changkyun into the elevator and up to the 15th floor. There are ads for diamonds playing on the little screens in the elevator car. They’re near the diamond district. The tech company he’s about to intern with is worth hundreds of millions, and this building is nicer than any building he’s worked in before. “You know, on your first day, you’re usually meant to dress up , not down.”
Changkyun glances down at his pink cable-knit sweater. It hangs over his hands to keep his fingers warm while typing. “Is it the sweater or the leather pants?”
Jooheon sighs as the elevator dings and the doors part. “All of it, just--all of it.”
Changkyun is herded to the office manager’s desk, where he’s sat on top of one of those yoga-ball chairs that makes you clench your core, and he cringes through a set of potential ID photos.
“You guys know each other?” their office manager, a lithe little bleached blonde twink named Soonyoung asks, handing Changkyun a tote bag with their company logo SevenX ironed onto the front.
“We’re from the same school.”
“All the same schools,” Changkyun adds, tapping Jooheon’s arms like doughy, ivory piano keys. “Elementary, junior, high--”
“He gets it,” Jooheon cuts in.
“We’re best friends,” Changkyun adds, as Jooheon shepherds him around massive long tables crammed with computer stations and employees bent over their keyboards like busy little gremlins. “Am I gonna be introduced to everyone or--”
“People are busy. I’ll show you where your desk is,” Jooheon says, as his AppleWatch lights up on his wrist. “Oh, fuck, it’s Mr. Lee. One second.” He brings the watch to his lips. “Yes, Mr. Lee. Sorry, I know you always say--ok, Minhyuk --I’m showing Changkyun around the office right now, but I’ll be right in. Okay, okay...be there soon.”
“Your boss called you,” Changkyun observes, glancing down the rows of tables to the large glass office at the end, “when he’s in the office right now. Right there.” Changkyun lifts his hand, and Jooheon swats at it.
“He can see you,” Jooheon hisses.
“He can see you too. So why did he call your fuckin’ spy watch?”
“It’s easier. Listen, I gotta run. Soonyoung will get you set up at your station, okay?” Jooheon pats Changkyun on the top of his head and power-walks down the aisle of tables to Mr. Lee Minhyuk’s office, his wide, soft hips rocking from side-to-side.
What a sweet honey bear.
Soonyoung hands Changkyun a new Macbook and shows him where he’ll sit, almost flush up against another intern in a long row of interns at one of the tables. The intern beside him is gigantic, his knees knocking against the table from underneath.
“All the apps should be set up with your permissions, but if you need something, just email IT.”
Changkyun glances back at the row of tables behind him. “I can’t just ask them? They’re right there.”
Soonyoung blinks slowly. He hands Changkyun a complimentary beer. It’s some bourgeois IPA, with a little cartoon rabbit in a suit with a monocle on the label. From his other pocket, Soonyoung draws out a granola bar and also hands that to Changkyun. “Don’t get drunk before 4. That’s the rule. Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be up front.”
“Should I email you?” Changkyun asks, joking, but Soonyoung shakes his head.
“We use Google chat for most in-office conversations. Just chat me.” Soonyoung gives a little wave of his pale thin fingers and disappears.
Changkyun turns to the intern beside him. “Hi, I’m--”
He has his headphones in.
Changkyun turns back to his laptop. And pops open his beer. A little bit fizzes over the top, and Changkyun loudly slurps at it. Everyone around him turns to glare. Changkyun sheepishly ducks behind his laptop screen.
A few hours later, Changkyun has almost figured out all ten new applications he’s meant to learn for this position, and Jooheon picks him up for lunch.
“Okay,” Changkyun says, pausing in front of a closed office door. All the doors are full, thick panes of glass, almost magnifying what’s behind them. “Who the hell is that?”
Standing behind one of those absurd, heavy-plastic standing desks is who Changkyun would call: Business Daddy .
He’s the only one in the office that Changkyun has noticed wearing a blazer. It’s navy blue, a kind of thick tweed, too, with those sand-colored suede elbow patches. His hair is black, shiny in the natural light beaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows around his corner office. As Changkyun watches, he lifts the nib of a gold-tipped fountain pen to his tongue.
“Who? Kihyun? He’s our head of operations. He’s not technically your boss, but he’s basically everyone’s boss,” Jooheon says, trying to tug Changkyun away so he’ll stop staring. “He’s very busy, so let’s--”
Kihyun glances away from his double-monitor computer setup and looks right at them. Right at Changkyun.
Changkyun’s loins twist into a pretzel and dip themselves in some kind of luxurious au jus. “I need him.”
“Changkyun,” Jooheon whines, yanking hard on Changkyun’s arm now, as if aiming to pull it from its socket like a ball-jointed doll limb, “please. Please don’t do this here. I let you go full power-slut back at school, you know? Live your truth, you know? But this is where I want to work when we graduate and--”
Changkyun licks at his lower lip the way he does when he’s decided he needs something.
The way he once looked at a window-display of artisanal rose-colored macarons that he didn’t even really understand conceptually beyond that they looked beautiful. (Does it taste pink? Changkyun loves pink-flavored things). He’d gone to the shop-owner and said he needed the little box of pink and purple macarons for his mom, you see, she’s in the hospital, and he [turned out his pockets] can’t afford them but please, please . He’d been lying, and he didn’t know why it was bad, but he knew he needed something badly and had to get it.
It was the same way he looked at his older brother’s friend when he turned eighteen (because he was good, he was always so good ). When he slid the pad of his finger over his plush bottom lip and lowered his lashes and put his warm, somewhat clammy palm onto his brother’s friend’s knee. When he said I need it. Please, please . When his brother’s friend said “are you sure? This is kind of a big deal,” Changkyun had nodded and climbed into his lap on Changkyun’s parents’ soft brown leather sofa.
He can’t help himself sometimes. It happens. And Changkyun doesn’t understand people who hold themselves back from things they want. If his body tells him he needs something like food, he provides it. That’s how humans live.
He listens to his body.
And, fuck, his body needs Kihyun.
“Jooheon,” Changkyun says again. “I need to know everything about him. I need--”
Jooheon shoves an unwrapped TootsiePop into Changkyun’s mouth as he’s speaking. Changkyun nearly chokes.
“Now you don’t need a dick in your stupid big mouth,” Jooheon replies, smug. “This is what people do when they need to grow up. They make compromises.”
“You’re not that much older than me,” Changkyun slurs around the lollipop. “And this is in no way the same as how good it feels to have the velvety weight of a gorgeous thick --”
Jooheon slaps the end of the white paper lollipop stick, and it hits the back of Changkyun’s throat with an unpleasant gurgling cough. Jooheon forces a calm smile onto his puffy little lips.
“Now let’s discuss something safe for work, shall we? How are you finding the office environment?”
Changkyun pouts and stirs a complimentary strawberry greek yogurt.
He’ll have to do this all himself.
It’s 7pm, and Kihyun hasn’t moved from his office. Jooheon left with his boss an hour ago to go to some kind of sales dinner.
Changkyun sits at his station, watching Kihyun answer continuous calls on both his office and cell phone while also typing steadily for hours. His office is dark save for the bright white light of his computer screen. It makes his skin look ghastly. The bruises beneath his eyes are cast in deep, deep shadow.
He’s been so busy he hasn’t even turned on a damn desk lamp.
Changkyun heaves himself up from his swivel chair. The office is mostly empty now, except for a few software engineers still hunched over typing with thick headphones covering their ears.
Changkyun slips into Kihyun’s office, and Kihyun also has headphones in, so he doesn’t notice. He finds a modern-design standing lamp in the corner of the office and steps on the floor button to flick the bulb on. The room bursts into light.
Kihyun pulls his headphones out of his ears and stares at Changkyun like he’s a screaming child having a tantrum in a classy restaurant, throwing spaghetti sauce every which way.
“It’s bad for your eyes to stare at the screen in the dark like that,” Changkyun says, throat feeling weirdly tight as Kihyun looks at him.
Kihyun pulls open the drawer under his desk and flips open a glasses case. He slides the glasses on, and they make his eyes look bigger, darker, and Changkyun shivers.
“Is that why you came in?” Kihyun asks, and his voice is higher, lighter than Changkyun expected. He’s thin, and only Changkyun’s height. There’s nothing about Kihyun that is Changkyun’s usual type. All his exes have been jocks--massive, muscular guys with bodies like thick cuts of butcher steak. They commanded spaces with mass, with sheer intimidating thickness .
Kihyun is lithe, maybe even too thin for his height. Changkyun doesn’t think he’s seen Kihyun leave to eat all day.
Changkyun reaches into his leather pants pocket and slides his complimentary granola bar across Kihyun’s desk toward him.
Kihyun looks down at it. Then back up. “Who are you again?”
“Changkyun Im. I’m the new customer support intern.”
Kihyun sweeps the granola bar off his desk and into his top drawer. “Thanks, Changkyun Im. I need to get back to work now.”
“How old are you?”
Kihyun’s brows knit together, and his lips press tight.
“Sorry, I’m not supposed to ask that, am I?”
Kihyun tips his head to the side, letting Changkyun continue to ramble as if it amuses him. His fingers are still hovering over his keyboard, his gaze flickering to his screen every few seconds to check for new emails. Changkyun wants to distract him.
Changkyun wants Kihyun to want to look at him.
Something in his gut shakes, knocking against his skin from the inside. It’s urgent. It’s gnawing. It has teeth hooked into him.
These are mixed metaphors.
“I live alone,” Changkyun blurts, waving his sweater-paw arms around.
That makes Kihyun look at him all right. Kihyun’s lips part in abject horror and confusion. He composes himself after a moment of the most awkward silence Changkyun has ever lived through, and he says, “Get home safely then, Changkyun” in that breathy, high tone voice.
Changkyun finds himself nodding. Finds himself quietly leaving Kihyun’s office. His legs feel like a not-fully-set mold of gelatin. He’s not quite liquid, not quite solid.
His phone screen lights up, the device buzzing in his pocket.
“Hyunwoo?” Changkyun asks, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and making his way to the elevator bay to escape his shame.
“I’m outside. I’m gonna take you home.”
Changkyun sighs. “Did you look up my office online to find the address?”
“No, your mom texted it to me. Meet me in the lobby of your building.”
Changkyun gives one last look back at Kihyun in his office. Kihyun catches him looking, and his expression doesn’t change. Changkyun has never had to work very hard for something he wants.
He’s never failed to get something he wants either.
But Kihyun is going to be a challenge, he just knows it.
“How was your first day?” Hyunwoo asks, wrapping a thick red wool scarf around Changkyun’s neck when he meets him down in the lobby.
“God, don’t say it like that. Makes me sound like a preschooler or something,” Changkyun protests, tugging his gray knit beanie down over his ears as they step out onto the street together.
“Sorry,” Hyunwoo replies, grabbing Changkyun’s backpack for him and pulling it onto his own back. “How was your big-boy job, big-boy?”
“Dear God,” Changkyun moans, throwing his hands up at the little sliver of starless sky that’s visible between the massive skyscrapers surrounding his office building. “It was fine . It was weird, I don’t know!”
Hyunwoo waits until they make it down the subway stairs and scan their metrocards to ask, “Weird, how?” He lifts Changkyun’s backpack and adjusts the straps so they don’t cut into his beefy arms as he carries it. He looks like a dad carrying his son’s backpack after school.
To counter this thought, Changkyun says, “Do you remember when I asked you to take my virginity?”
Hyunwoo chokes on air, coughing into the crook of his elbow politely until he recovers enough to speak. “Yes, I believe I remember that. When that happened.”
“Why did you say yes?” Changkyun asks, staring down at his scuffed Nike sneakers.
“Changkyun,” Hyunwoo mutters, thick lips moving slow as he composes an answer, “we’re in public. What do you want me to say?”
“Did you want me, or did you just feel bad for me?”
Hyunwoo pushes the small of Changkyun’s back to guide him into the crowded subway car. Changkyun grabs the metal pole and Hyunwoo grabs the spot of metal just above his hands.
“I don’t know, Changkyun. You’re important to me. And, obviously you have this...effect on people.”
“So you did want me?”
Hyunwoo looks down at him with his deep-set hooded eyes and shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, of course. I wouldn’t have...done that...if I didn’t. You were also...very persuasive. And...persistent.”
Changkyun files those away for later.
“Why are you asking about this now, huh? That was years ago.”
Someone jostles Changkyun from behind as the train comes to an abrupt stop in the tunnel, and Hyunwoo reaches out to steady him.
“I’m on a path of self-discovery,” Changkyun replies.
Hyunwoo doesn’t look like he quite believes Changkyun, but Hyunwoo also always looks perpetually lost. A big, soft, cuddly meatloaf.
“I’m gonna call my mom and yell at her for asking you to pick me up, you know,” Changkyun says, as Hyunwoo waves goodbye to him at the front door of his apartment building.
“I only live two stops away,” Hyunwoo says, shrugging off Changkyuns backpack and handing it over. “I like picking you up. It’s what your b--”
Changkyun kicks at Hyunwoo’s shin, and Hyunwoo shuts up. “Fine, whatever. Pick me up if you want.”
“I do,” Hyunwoo says, and he’s looking at Changkyun the way he does now when he knows Changkyun is hiding things from him.
“I said fine. Now go, go, shoo!” Changkyun waves him away from his doorstep. “I have to go scribble in my diary because apparently I’m a child again.”
Changkyun lifts his phone and flashes the screen through the glass door at Hyunwoo on the other side. “Look, the next train is coming in three minutes. Better run.”
Hyunwoo sighs and nods, jogging away from his door.
Changkyun’s apartment is a little studio with room for just one double bed, one dresser, and a kitchenette consisting of one two-burner stovetop set into a single countertop, a college-size fridge, and a little wooden table stacked with his microwave and coffee machine.
He throws his backpack down at the foot of his bed and climbs under the covers without turning the lights off. The darkness reminds him of the absolute shame he brought to his name earlier that day with Kihyun.
Kihyun must be like Hyunwoo. Must think he’s some dumb kid with flighty whims. Someone to be patronized. Every guy Changkyun has ever been with has admitted that Changkyun can be very immature, very demanding. He doesn’t understand why asking for what you want is demanding. It isn’t as if he doesn’t give in return.
Changkyun tugs the duvet up over his head and whines aloud to himself.
He texts his mom to tell her to stop sending Hyunwoo after him like a guard dog, and then he falls asleep.
Changkyun shows up at the office early the next day, hoping to beat Kihyun there, but Kihyun is already there, sipping a small cup of espresso and typing while shouldering his cellphone against his ear.
Today Changkyun is wearing a white button-down under a heathered gray blazer. He has his fake glasses on, the round ones that make him look like if Harry Potter were fuckable.
Jooheon looks at him like he showed up having eaten his own face off.
“What’s all this?” Jooheon gestures at the blazer, the glasses.
“Proving to myself that I deserve it,” Changkyun says, purposefully cryptic.
Jooheon clearly doesn’t believe him, but Changkyun doesn’t care. Jooheon’s watch lights up. Changkyun watches him read the tiny black screen before huffing exasperatedly.
“I need to go.”
“Your Daddy’s callin’ you?”
Jooheon’s cheeks flush deep rosy pink, and he splutters. “My boss , Changkyun. My boss .”
“Uh huh,” Changkyun replies, and then Jooheon is waddling down the aisles again with that beautiful thick booty. “What a waste,” Changkyun adds, only to himself.
The intern beside Changkyun finally speaks later that day.
“Hi,” he says, slipping his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.
“I’m Hyungwon,” the intern says, and Changkyun notices he has the fluffiest, most bizarrely precious lips he’s ever seen.
“Changkyun.” Changkyun leans in closer. “You’re, like, really pretty. But like in a turtle-ish kinda way. A pretty turtle.”
Hyungwon laughs, and his tone sounds gargled like he’s constantly trying to force sound through those lips, and it keeps reverberating back into his throat to echo in that deep cavern. “Customer support intern too?”
Changkyun nods, showing Hyungwon his email inbox with a bold [57 unread messages] .
“That’s rough, buddy,” Hyungwon replies, patting Changkyun’s arm gently. His hands are massive, with fingers long enough to curl around Changkyun’s upper arm and touch.
“Can we be friends?”
Hyungwon shrugs. “Yeah, sure. You wanna get ramen for lunch? There’s a place ‘round the corner that does a lunch special.”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
Hyungwon pulls his headphones back on and hunches over his laptop, assuming the position like everyone else.
Changkyun stares into the depths of his rapidly filling inbox.
Be a big-boy, Changkyun.
Be an adult.
You deserve this.
His first email is from a client who thinks that the advertisement their company sent reads like a traveling gypsy circus ad. It was for athletic wear.
Changkyun quickly types back: I’m terribly sorry for the miscommunication and dissatisfaction with our product. Could you point to what it is about the advertisement you find unsavory? P.S.-- ‘gypsy’ is technically a racial slur, and we would appreciate you not saying it again. Please, enjoy your day. Best, Changkyun at SevenX
No less than three minutes later, Changkyun’s desk phone rings.
“Please, answer the phone with your name and department.” It’s Kihyun. He sounds sexily exasperated. Changkyun’s throat fills with cottonballs soaked in warm liquor.
“Sorry, uh, Changkyun in Customer Support here.”
“Can you come see me, Changkyun in Customer Support?”
Changkyun’s cheeks feel tight, his skin like a vacuum seal over his body. He gets up, and his row watches him stride over, weaving through computer chairs, until he reaches Kihyun’s office. Like walking to the principal’s office in middle school. Without the “oooo”-ing.
“Shut the door, please,” Kihyun says.
“Have a seat,” he says.
Changkyun obeys again, dropping down onto the plush navy suede chair across from Kihyun’s desk.
Kihyun puts his elbows down on his desk and peers at Changkyun directly from behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Changkyun does notice that he’s been wearing them all day today. He wonders if that’s because of what Changkyun said the night before.
“Changkyun, let me be frank. Is this your first office job?”
Changkyun nods wordlessly.
“Hm,” Kihyun replies, humming. “I just received a call from a client, complaining that someone on our customer support team chastised them in a product-complaint response.”
Changkyun purses his lips as if afraid to let himself speak. Something about Kihyun makes him want to listen. Changkyun would swallow his own lips and never speak again if Kihyun told him to.
“Changkyun. This is a multi-million-dollar software company. I don’t know how you got this job, if you have friends in important places or your dad donated money or--”
“I earned this,” Changkyun protests, suddenly swollen with anger. “Sorry, pardon me for interrupting, Sir, but I got this job of my own volition. I don’t have anyone to donate money in my name. I fuckin’--I’m sorry, ugh--I got myself here. I can show you my resume. I am in the top 1% of my goddamn--whoops, sorry again--graduating class. I speak four languages.”
Kihyun looks at him, squinting a little like he’s trying to read between the lines of Changkyun’s skin. “I see. Well, that’s impressive, Changkyun.”
The angry swelling in Changkyun’s chest deflates. And he re-swells with pride. Hearing his name in Kihyun’s mouth is like hearing sugar melt into caramel.
“When a client complains, you need to be polite and respectful. You earn a positive response through respect, not through intimidation or--or aggression.”
“They used a racial slur, Sir,” Changkyun mutters, fiddling his fingers in his lap.
“Sit up,” Kihyun says.
Changkyun does. Easy.
“If you deserve to be here, and you’re as qualified as you claim,” Kihyun says, “then prove it. Act like it. No one here has time to baby you.”
Changkyun gnaws at his bottom lip and nods, feeling his eyes filling with frustrated tears. No one has scolded him like this in ages. Not since he was a child. Not since his dad left. He’s worked so hard to earn only praise since then. To be good.
“I’ll be good,” Changkyun replies, after a moment. “I’m gonna be so good for you. Er, for the company.”
He flicks his gaze up from his lap, and Kihyun is looking at him like he knows exactly what Changkyun was about to say. He seems startled by it. In a familiar, successful way.
“That’s,” Kihyun says, almost breathlessly, “that’s right. I’m sure you will.”
“Thank you,” Changkyun says, rising from the chair and adjusting his tight black trousers, turned slightly so Kihyun can see the way they lift his ass as he pulls at the fabric belt loops. “Sir.”
“Call me Kihyun. Everyone calls me Kihyun.”
“Seems impolite. I’ll stick with Sir .”
Kihyun pushes at the bridge of his glasses and looks away at his computer screen. “Whatever you want. Just don’t suck at your job.”
That was actually...kind of cute?
Later, he and Hyungwon are eating ramen, and Hyungwon is explaining how he’s been an intern for two semesters now. Changkyun stirs his pork shoyu ramen with his chopsticks, stomach still feeling queasy from being chastised by the object of his infatuation.
“Please teach me how to not suck,” Changkyun whines, grabbing for Hyungwon’s massive skeletal hands. He shakes them desperately. “Please.”
Hyungwon draws his hands back so he can continue eating. For someone so thin, he sure shovels those noodles in. Around a mouthful of noodles, Hyungwon garbles, “Just follow directions. It’s not hard work. It’s just a lot. You get used to it. Make some friends. Soonyoung is a good person to know. He can get you whatever. He’s like the prison commissary.”
Hyungwon rubs at his mouth with his sleeve. “Jihoon is good to know, too. He’s in sales. Not sure why, because he’s like the grouchiest little turd ever, but he’s cute, and he’s been in the company since he was an intern too. Seungcheol is one promotion away from being management, but he’s easy to befriend. He’s content team. I mean, everyone is nice. Just super busy. But every other friday, we usually do an office-wide happy hour where everyone gets to mingle.”
“Hard to believe anyone at this office ever looks away from their laptops.”
“We are human, Changkyun,” Hyungwon laughs.
“Robots. All of you.” Changkyun waves over his bowl of ramen and the steam goes flying into Hyungwon’s face. He looks like some kind of mystical turtle creature. Turtle Prince. “Listen, can I ask you something? Is Jooheon secretly dating his boss?”
“What? Jooheon Lee?”
Changkyun nods eagerly, leaning forward with palms slapped to the surface of the table.
“Boy, you nuts. Jooheon is the most professional intern this company has ever had. He won an MVP award his first semester, and they never give that shit to interns.”
“But his boss is totally fucking him, right?”
Hyungwon’s lips twitch at the corners. “Do you want them to be fucking?”
“God, yes . Jooheon needs to replace that stick up his butt with a good--” Changkyun cuts himself off, self-consciously dropping his gaze down to his soup.
“I see why Jooheon warned me not to talk to you,” Hyungwon cuts in, laughing again, this soothing deep sound that warms Changkyun’s chest from the inside like the comforting thud of good percussion.
“What a little sneak,” Changkyun says, squinting bitterly. “I’m gonna tell the office about the time he got hard at a Coldplay concert.”
Hyungwon snorts, spitting broth all over the table. Changkyun wipes it from where spittle hit his cheek and grins.
“Right? Isn’t that an amazing story? He was practically moaning. Oh, Chris Martin, fill me with your dulcet tones --”
“You’re cute,” Hyungwon says, kicking Changkyun under the table. “I’m glad I didn’t listen to Jooheon. You’re right, anyhow. He does need a nice dicking.”
“Oh, thank God , you agree,” Changkyun groans. “We’ve been friends for like 15 years, and he’s always been like this.”
“A soft, doughy virgin.”
“He’s a good boy.”
Changkyun narrows his eyes. “No, I’m a good boy. He’s just fussy.”
Hyungwon pats Changkyun’s hand on top of the table. “Ok, you’re the good boy, I’m sorry.”
Changkyun grins. But it doesn’t feel the same as when Kihyun said he was impressive. Because Changkyun is a single-minded little shit, and he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.
But what’s life without a little selfishness?
For the next two days, Changkyun avoids Kihyun, except to slip a granola bar or yogurt into his desk drawer when Kihyun sporadically runs to use the restroom. Literally. Runs.
Kihyun has sent him one email since the time he pulled him into his office, and it just said: To Changkyun Im in Customer Support, don’t forget to log your hours in your timesheet.
The next week, on Monday, Changkyun stays late. Emails Kihyun from his desk when he sees Kihyun working into the night again without taking any breaks.
To Kihyun Yoo, COO, don’t forget to eat. And turn the lights on .
Kihyun meets his gaze from his office, through the glass. Shakes his head the way a dog trainer would look at a disobedient new pup trainee.
The next day, Changkyun stays late again. Emails Kihyun.
To Kihyun Yoo, COO. Do you live alone?
Kihyun replies back almost instantly. None of your business, Changkyun Im in customer support .
Wednesday. 6pm. This time Changkyun uses Google chat. Turns up the aggression.
Changkyun: Not to be disrespectful or anything, but do you sleep in your office or something?
Kihyun: Remember when I said none of your business? Still applies.
Changkyun: I’m ordering a sandwich from the deli across the street. Too cold to go outside. You want?
Kihyun types and deletes for a while. Changkyun watches the “...” appear and disappear.
Kihyun: Smoked turkey with provolone and honey mustard. Lite honey mustard. Whole grain.
Changkyun: Yes, Sir.
Kihyun: You didn’t earn that title from me .
Changkyun: How can I?
Kihyun doesn’t reply.
Changkyun brings him his sandwich, but he’s on the phone, and they don’t speak again that night.
Changkyun has been walking past Kihyun’s office all day. He wore his tightest, blackest jeans that hug his skin like they’re acrylic paint. Paired it with a soft light blue cotton t-shirt that dips low over his collarbones.
He can feel Kihyun’s eyes on him like mist. Like when it’s raining but the rain can barely be felt. When it’s like chilled, misting wetness settling over you like a second skin.
Changkyun finally walks in.
Kihyun doesn’t look up from his computer.
“I know you are.”
Changkyun scratches at his stomach, the hem of his shirt riding up to bare a sliver of tan hip-bone. Kihyun’s eyes flicker over it and then back to his computer.
“Are you dating someone?”
Kihyun moves his hands over his keyboard, ignoring him.
Changkyun spins around, walking the perimeter of Kihyun’s office, letting Kihyun see how tight these jeans are.
“Go home, Changkyun.”
“I have work to do, too, you know,” Changkyun says, hating how childish he sounds. “Sir,” he tacks on at the end.
“I said you didn’t earn that, remember? You know what game you’re trying to play, so you should know why I’m saying this.”
“You’ve done this before, too, then?”
“Done what, Changkyun?”
Changkyun scoffs and grabs a plaque from Kihyun’s bookcase from when he won a NYC’s 30 Hottest Under 30 title .
“This,” is all Changkyun can say, and his voice sounds weak even to himself.
“Talked to an employee?”
“You some kind of professional then?”
“Obviously. You’re standing in my office. Did you see my office label? COO?”
“I sure did. It’s very impressive, Sir.”
“I’m not doing this again. I’m Kihyun to you, got it?”
“If not Sir, then what? Daddy? Daddy, don’t you want to--”
“Out, Changkyun,” Kihyun says, voice raised like Changkyun has never heard it, but it’s shaking at the edges like he’s terrified.
Changkyun suddenly feels awful.
Kihyun really looks scared as he stands behind his desk, clutching the underside of the cheap plastic. His eyes are wild behind his glasses, and he’s breathing deeply. He points to his door.
“Don’t bother me about this again. Please. You’re a nice kid, okay? You can do really well at this company. I can’t spend time playing with you, hear me? I won’t say it again.”
Changkyun nods, perfectly chastised. Again .
He calls Hyunwoo to pick him up, spending five minutes hiding in the men’s restroom before Hyunwoo texts to say he’s downstairs.
Hyunwoo stays with him that night as he cries, and he doesn’t ask any questions when Changkyun shoves old fried rice into his mouth, chases it with old red wine, all while continuing to cry.
He just pats Changkyun’s back and tells him he’s good, he’s okay, he’s really good, he’s doing really well, and Changkyun feels sick.
It’s been two weeks at this job, and on the second Friday of January, it hits 5:00, and the office audibly groans aloud. They all stand from their desks and stretch out like statues finally come to life out of some static marble.
Bi-weekly Happy Hour.
“C’mon,” Hyungwon says, tugging Changkyun’s sleeve and herding him into the open kitchen/lobby area of their office. The office is laid out like a warehouse with exposed wood, lots of shiny metal pipes, and very few doors. Open concept. Very pricy in this city.
Meanwhile Kihyun has a plastic desk.
“Gimme a second,” Changkyun says, halting at the end of their row and waving Hyungwon to go on ahead of him.
Kihyun is one of the only ones who didn’t get up immediately at 5 to head to Happy Hour. Changkyun can’t say he’s shocked.
Kihyun looks up, shakes his head. The disappointed dog trainer again.
Changkyun holds up his cellphone, the words I’m sorry? Flashing across the screen. When Kihyun doesn’t react, Changkyun types furiously and then holds up his phone again. Now it reads: I’m really, really sorry.
Kihyun rolls his eyes and waves for Changkyun to come in.
He steps in quietly, still nervous.
“I messed up,” he says, feeling the flush rising in his throat up to the apples of his cheeks. “I misread some signals, and I’m sorry.”
Kihyun breathes out sharply. “It’s okay. You didn’t...you,” he pauses, runs a hand through his hair so it lifts from his forehead, and he has such nice eyebrows(?), Changkyun’s kneecaps feel like they’ve been greased. He feels wobbly. “It’s fine. We’re--you’re fine.”
“Aren’t you coming to Happy Hour?”
Kihyun bites at the inside of his cheek, somewhat hiding behind his double-monitors. “I’m busy.”
“Everyone here is busy. You have to take time for yourself.”
“You’re a kid, and you know nothing about me,” Kihyun mutters.
“I know that you never leave your office, and you never eat, and you like being in charge. I know that you have needs like everyone else. And one of those is leaving this dumb office.”
Kihyun scratches the short hair at the nape of his neck, face turned away. “Are you watching me all the time?”
“Yeah,” Changkyun admits. “You’re sexy, and I think you thrive when you’re in charge. But I think you need someone on the other end to remind you of your own needs.”
“Stop trying to date me, Changkyun. I don’t date.”
“Who said I’m trying to date you, Sir? I don’t date either.”
“Go enjoy the Happy Hour, Changkyun. Meet some new people you can try to date.”
“I said I’m not...nevermind,” Changkyun huffs, resigned. “Isn’t there an idiom about all work and no play?”
“I play a fair amount. I’m not sure what you’ve assumed about me after two weeks,” Kihyun says, “but I’m not some stuffy old man. I’d surprise you.”
“I hope you will.”
The sun has already set, but the big, almost barrel-sized lamps above the tables are all lit, casting the room in a warm orange glow. Changkyun left his blazer at his desk and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt to free his throat from its choke-hold.
Hyungwon watches him fiddling with his shirt buttons and laughs, reaching out to rumple Changkyun’s hair. They’re standing in a group of other interns.
From across the room, Changkyun spots Kihyun heading toward them. He’s still got his skinny gray satin tie tightly knotted at his throat, but his blazer is gone. He’s nursing a glass of whiskey against his lips. Changkyun’s mouth fills with spit.
“What do you know about Kihyun?” Changkyun hisses at Hyungwon, as the two of them grab bottles of hipster IPA beer from bar table.
“What do you mean? Like, basic stats?”
“Sure, whatever you know,” Changkyun replies, sipping at the chilled beer and watching Kihyun move between groups, mingling seamlessly everywhere he goes, despite never talking to anyone during the weekday.
“I dunno. He’s only a couple years older than me. He started interning here before the company got big. Worked insane hours.”
“More insane than he does now?”
“Huh? I don’t know. You stalking him or something?”
“No. Not really. I don’t think? Maybe. Maybe yes.”
Hyungwon laughs and chugs half his beer. Where does it go? He must have five stomachs. “He basically lived here. Rumor was he kept a little roll-up cot under his desk. This was back before there were a lot of employees, and they were in a tiny rented space up in East Harlem. The pay was supposedly terrible, but he was weirdly passionate about the company and now he’s a boss-man.”
“Fuck,” Changkyun breathes out, unable to look away as Kihyun smiles down at Jihoon and laughs. Changkyun has never seen him laugh before. He almost looks human. Changkyun’s internal organs feel strange. Like they’re too cold or too warm. He can’t get comfortable.
“He and Minhyuk are the two employees, aside from the founders, who have worked here the longest. They’re super rich now, obviously, because the company went public and sold for literal hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“ Fuck ,” Changkyun repeats.
As if sensing his office indiscretion, Kihyun looks up from his conversation with Jihoon and Junhui. He’s still smiling, and Changkyun finds himself smiling back.
It feels weirdly intimate, which is stupid, stupid , Changkyun, you absolute baby, but he can’t help it. He feels floaty and fuzzy and--
“Is Hyunwoo picking you up?”
Changkyun spins around, and Jooheon is there, flanked by a slightly-taller man with amber-colored hair.
“Is this Changkyun?”
“Yeah, I’m Changkyun. Are you the other boss-man? I mean, Jooheon’s boss?”
“Please,” he says, his voice high and scratchy and rough, “call me Minhyuk.”
“Glad to finally meet you, Minhyuk,” Changkyun says, moving his beer to his other hand so he can shake Minhyuk’s. “I’m the new customer support intern.”
“Oh, I know,” Minhyuk says, laughing like sandpaper music. “I’ve heard.”
“Jooheon, what the heck,” Changkyun hisses.
Jooheon holds his hands up innocently. “I didn't say anything. Trust me, I’m not going around bragging about knowing you.”
Across the room, Kihyun looks up again and finds his gaze, and Changkyun smirks.
“So, is Hyunwoo picking you up again, or do you wanna come stay at my place?” Jooheon asks.
“Why? Did my mom text you too?”
Changkyun groans. “Goddamnit. I’m twenty-two years old. I don’t need to be babysat. I grew up in this fucking city.”
Jooheon kicks at Changkyun’s foot. Changkyun pouts. “Sorry. Forgive me for swearing, Sir.”
Minhyuk waves dismissively. “Don’t worry. I swear all the time. Jooheon is always blushing around me too, aren’t you, Jooheonie?”
“Still feel bad,” Changkyun replies, casting a smug grin at Jooheon about the nickname. “I’m trying to be professional.”
“Well, don’t call me Sir. Kihyun’s the only one who likes that kinda shit.”
Changkyun can feel his own pupils dilate at this bit of news. He was right. He knew he was right. “Is he now.”
Minhyuk meets his gaze, and they share a quiet conversation with their eyes. Minhyuk nods. Changkyun nods in understanding.
As if sensing something afoot, Kihyun appears beside Minhyuk, slapping a hand onto his shoulder. “Hey, whatcha chattin’ about?”
Changkyun presses the tip of his beer bottle to his lips and flicks his tongue over a bead of beer on the rim. “Oh, nothing, Sir . Just the policy about swearing in the office.”
“There isn’t one,” Kihyun says, confusedly glancing between Changkyun and Minhyuk and Jooheon.
“Right you are,” Minhyuk says back. “Now, then, it’s nearly 6pm on a Friday night. We need to get out of here before we all die of old age in this overpriced office warehouse. Want some sushi, Jooheon?”
Jooheon nods, head lowered, and Changkyun watches enviously as he follows Minhyuk to grab their coats.
Changkyun then continues watching as the rest of the office spills out the doors gradually, and just as he suspected--Kihyun stays, again not switching his office lights on even as he continues working.
Soonyoung eventually is the last to leave, having cleaned the entire office almost single-handedly, though Changkyun had actually offered to help beyond just throwing shit in the trash.
Changkyun doesn’t knock. Not this time. It’s Go Time.
He steps on Kihyun’s office light.
Kihyun sighs and pulls his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Changkyun notes that Kihyun has an empty whiskey glass on his desk. “Yes, Changkyun? Can I help you?”
“I know you want to fuck me,” Changkyun announces.
Kihyun’s lips part. He shakes his head and grabs for his tie, finally loosening it like he can’t breathe. “What makes you say that?”
“I see the way you react when I talk to you. When I walk past your office.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m too busy to give a damn about every employee that walks past my office door all day,” Kihyun spits, embarrassed.
“It isn’t every employee,” Changkyun says, shutting Kihyun’s laptop, the monitor screens going black in return. “It’s just me.”
“You’re a kid.”
“I’m old enough. What is it, then? Can’t handle it? Can’t handle me?” Changkyun’s hands form into fists at his sides. He could have sworn . He knew . It was so close. He was so close.
Kihyun draws in a shaky breath. “Changkyun, you’re my subordinate. I can’t.”
“I’m not a permanent employee. There’s technically nothing in the handbook about--”
“Changkyun. You’re not--”
“You want this. I know you want this. You want me to call you Sir and get on my knees for you. I’ve never been wrong about this before,” Changkyun argues, feeling petulant, like the child Kihyun must believe he is.
“I have work to do,” Kihyun says, stern, jaw nearly clenched.
“Don’t you want to bend me over this shitty plastic desk and fuck me until I cry? Don’t you? C’mon. Handle me. Do it. I--”
“Lock the door.”
Changkyun freezes. For a moment he isn’t sure he heard right, but Kihyun is watching him carefully now, waiting. Changkyun steps back until he’s pressed against the door, afraid to look away from Kihyun as he moves to flip the lock latch on the office door. Kihyun lowers his desk down to normal height.
“On the couch,” Kihyun says, yanking at his tie with shaky hands. He tosses it down onto his desk, where there is no mess, and it looks so out of place, silk in a messy pile on the off-white plastic.
Changkyun sits on the black leather loveseat, rubbing his palms against the thighs of his jeans as he waits.
“I know boys like you, Changkyun,” Kihyun murmurs, sitting beside him on the loveseat and patting his lap. “You want me to be some kind of story for your friends? Some kind of conquest?”
Changkyun crawls over to straddle him, but Kihyun pulls him down so he’s splayed out over his lap instead.
“No,” Changkyun pants, feeling himself growing hard against Kihyun’s thigh as he wriggles in place.
Changkyun doesn’t reply to that. Bites his lip and squirms more needily.
“Hm,” Kihyun says, and it isn’t quite an acknowledgment, but he also doesn’t push Changkyun away.
“Get on with it then, Daddy .”
Changkyun is testing him now. Pushing it. Kihyun is, from what he’s observed, the kind of man who doesn’t like to be interrupted, doesn’t like to be ridiculed, doesn’t like to be belittled. And Changkyun has always desperately wanted someone who could handle him the way he is.
Persuasively persistent. A baby.
“If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do it the right way. So. Safeword?”
Changkyun can feel Kihyun getting hard too, against his belly. It feels so good; he feels so powerful.
“What? Oh, uh, Gameboy.”
“God,” Kihyun laughs. “All right.”
“We good now?”
Kihyun’s breath is warm as it ghosts over the back of Changkyun’s neck. “I might not be as gentle as you’re accustomed to.”
Changkyun shivers. “Fucking good . I was hoping you wouldn’t be.”
“Use the safeword if you need to.”
“I will. I’m not dumb. I like pain, not dying.”
Kihyun runs his nails up into Changkyun’s hair, over his scalp, and Changkyun revels in it. “Pants down around your knees, baby boy.”
Changkyun feels frantic. Feels the urgency boiling up inside him, in his blood. He reaches under his belly to undo the button on his jeans, and now he’s really regretting these tight pants as he tries to seductively wriggle them down over his thighs to his knees.
Kihyun chuckles under his breath but doesn’t say anything more about it. He runs his warm palm over Changkyun’s bare skin. “Not wearing underwear in the office. Fuck, you’re so bad.”
Changkyun’s breath sounds so loud in his own skull. “What do you do to bad boys, Sir.”
Kihyun lands a sharp slap to Changkyun’s bare ass cheek. “Not Sir.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Changkyun replies, huffing out a breath that sounds like a wheeze as Kihyun grips the flesh of his ass and watches it jiggle.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, and you know it,” he says, hands hot and firm all over Changkyun’s skin. He rakes his nails from Changkyun’s tailbone down over the skin of his ass and further to his thighs.
Changkyun feels like molten lava has been poured through a funnel in his throat into his belly. Into his core. He is now the core of the very fucking earth, burning and hot.
“Hit me, Daddy, please. Please,” Changkyun begs, pressing his thighs together, cock hard against Kihyun’s leg. The roughness of his trousers chafes against Changkyun’s bare skin, and he loves it.
“I have work to do,” Kihyun says, aiming a slap to both cheeks in sequence. Every time a slap sounds in the quiet of the room, Changkyun chokes on a moan. Kihyun’s breath is coming faster now, harder. Changkyun can feel it against his hair. “You interrupted me. I said no, and you didn’t listen.”
Changkyun feels everything slipping out of focus around him like it’s all turned to falling sand. He could hold his hand out and feel time dripping through his fingers to the floor. There is no floor. Just sand.
“I’m normally so good,” Changkyun babbles, lifting his hips up as Kihyun hits him again in the same spot as the last round, and it stings. It stings like a burn beneath his skin. It’s sharp, and Changkyun wants to push into it but also away. When he moves away, his cock ruts against Kihyun’s thigh, which is even worse.
Kihyun grabs the back of his neck. “I’m gonna fuck that bratty mouth of yours, baby. Do you want that? You’ve been thirsting for my cock for weeks now, haven’t you, baby? You’re so needy for it.”
Changkyun nods, and Kihyun spanks him again.
Changkyun moans out brokenly, feeling the hot press of tears. “I want it.”
“What do good boys say, Changkyun?”
Changkyun groans and bucks against Kihyun’s thigh, needing more , but Kihyun grips the back of his neck tightly.
“What do they say, baby boy?”
“ Please .”
“Please, what ?” Kihyun spanks his upper thigh, and it can barely be called relief from the burning sting of his ass.
Changkyun sobs, hands curled into fists. “Please let me... please ...I want…” Changkyun’s lips part and close, and he can barely find the words. Everything turns to breath.
“It’s okay, Changkyun, you’re doing well,” Kihyun says, suddenly gentle, turning Changkyun onto his back and stroking his thumb over Changkyun’s cheekbone. Changkyun’s eyelids flutter and he leans into the touch. There’s a comfort in Kihyun’s hands. The way they’re small and light against Changkyun’s jawbone. Changkyun isn’t afraid. He just wants. “Eyes open, baby. Stay with me here.”
Changkyun opens his eyes again. Kihyun’s face is so sharp and yet soft. It’s unlike any face Changkyun has ever seen.
He’s so fucking hot.
Changkyun reaches up to brush Kihyun’s hair back from his forehead, remembering how sexy he’d looked before with his forehead exposed. Kihyun grabs his wrist.
“No touching, baby,” Kihyun says, pinching Changkyun’s chin between his fingers to hold his head steady. “Now, on your knees.”
Sometimes Changkyun feels like a finicky shower faucet. He’s always too hot or too cold. Too quiet. Too loud. Too shy. Too abrasive. Always too much. Too too .
To everyone he’s ever been with, Changkyun has been too much. Asked for too much.
For once, Changkyun wants to be just right. He wants to be good .
He rolls off Kihyun’s lap and onto his knees, hands neatly folded in his lap on the hardwood floor.
Kihyun rises slowly, watching Changkyun like a predator, like a fox, and Changkyun wonders why he never saw the comparison before. Everything about Kihyun is foxlike. His eyes. The way he’s sharp like a feline but soft and open like a canine.
“Let me see you, baby,” Kihyun murmurs, tapping under Changkyun’s chin so he looks up to meet his gaze. “Arms up.”
Changkyun obeys, easy, good.
Kihyun pulls Changkyun’s shirt up over his head, ruffling his hair, and he neatly folds it and lays it down on the loveseat. Figures Kihyun would fold the clothes after he strips them from your aching body.
Kihyun scratches his nails from one of Changkyun’s shoulder behind his neck to the other shoulder, circling Changkyun on the floor like a shark. His teeth are white and perfectly straight as he grins down at him.
“You’re fucking beautiful. You knew I wanted you. Of course you did,” Kihyun breathes, grabbing Changkyun by the hair so he moves up onto his knees. “Stay.”
Changkyun’s brows pull together. He watches as Kihyun unbuckles his belt and slips it out from the loops of his slacks. He lays it down on the loveseat. Neat, neat, neat. He pops open the fancy gold button and tugs the zipper down.
“No underwear at the office,” Changkyun says, mimicking Kihyun’s line from before. “ Bad .”
Kihyun stops tugging his pants down. He starts zipping them back up stoically, and he reaches for his belt.
“Wait!” Changkyun cries desperately. “Please, I’m sorry. That was bad, that was very bad. I’m sorry, Daddy, please let me have it.”
Kihyun smiles and touches Changkyun’s cheek, cradling it in his palm. “Good boy.”
Changkyun preens. The praise sinks into his pores like summer sweat in the best way. Like he’s been running for miles and miles and can finally rest and marinate in his success.
Kihyun slips his cock out between the open zipper. Doesn’t bother pushing his pants down any further. “C’mere, baby boy. Don’t you want it?”
Changkyun makes a needy sound at the back of his throat. Kihyun’s dick isn’t as long as some of the cocks he’s seen before, but it’s thick and flushed at the tip, and Kihyun is gripping the base with those gorgeous delicate fingers. The bare skin framed by the dark material of Kihyun’s open slacks just makes Changkyun feel needier somehow.
“Can I? Please?”
Kihyun nods, and Changkyun crawls forward on his hands and knees. Kihyun’s floor is dust-free, spotless. Changkyun wonders when he has time to clean.
Kihyun holds his free hand up, and Changkyun stops, arms at his sides. He presses the tip of his cock against Changkyun’s lips, and when Changkyun goes to part his lips, take the thick heat into his mouth, Kihyun grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back.
Changkyun shudders, chest heaving. “Please?” Changkyun feels broken, like he can’t form any other word now.
Kihyun lets Changkyun lean in again, and Changkyun licks his lips to taste Kihyun’s precum. Kihyun watches him moving in closer, and he yanks Changkyun back again by the hair.
Changkyun sniffles and whines and shudders, chest filling up with frustrated sobs. “Fuck, please . Daddy, Sir, no, Kihyun, no, Daddy, I’m being good.”
“I’m making sure you’ve learned your lesson from all this,” Kihyun says, pupils blown wide as he watches Changkyun’s chest heaving with the need to suck his dick. It feels silly. How badly the need thrums through him like this. Changkyun has always had needs. Needs that overwhelm him. He gets things into his head and then they don’t go away. They never go away unless he gives his body what it wants.
“I promise,” Changkyun pleads. “I’ll only be good for you. I was wrong. I was bad. I wanna be good. I wanna be the best baby you’ve ever seen. Give it to me. Please, fuck , give it to me.”
Changkyun’s mouth feels empty. His tongue craves the weight of Kihyun’s dick. He can taste him on the roof of his mouth.
“Good boy. You are. You are being so good,” Kihyun coos. “Open for me, okay?”
Changkyun nods, eyes brimmed with frustrated tears, and he opens obediently.
Kihyun feels so hot and thick as he slides between Changkyun’s lips, and he pulses on Changkyun’s tongue. “Shit,” Kihyun slurs, fisting Changkyun’s hair. Changkyun’s scalp burns, and it sends shivers of sparking pain down to his cock. “Good boy. Fuck, you feel good. Relax, baby.”
Changkyun obeys, throat opening, muscles going lax. He wants Kihyun to use him. Wants Kihyun to empty him completely and fill him up. Wants to fill his skull with Kihyun’s praise and nothing else.
Changkyun hums and sucks around the skin in his mouth. Kihyun swears again.
“I’m gonna fuck this cute little face, baby boy, okay? Fuck, look at this sweet little face, with these sweet little cheeks, but you’re filthy, aren’t you? You’re going to give everything to me tonight, and it’s going to be beautiful.” He goes quiet a moment, still. “But if you need me to stop, tap my thigh three times.”
Changkyun gives a little nod and blinks up at Kihyun as he starts thrusting into the wet warmth of Changkyun’s throat. Changkyun gags. Of course he does. He’s sucked plenty of cock, but something about Kihyun makes him feel so unbalanced.
He’s overwhelmed with the need to be perfect for him. He’s never felt this way before. Like he wants Kihyun to take him apart. He forces himself to relax more, goes nearly limp in Kihyun’s hold. Kihyun fucks into his mouth in short little strokes, and Changkyun can’t wait to feel those snake hips fuck into him from behind.
“Shit, baby boy, you’re good at this, huh? Fuck, just look at you. You’re dripping all over my carpet. Gonna make you clean that up, you know. Making a mess of my office after interrupting my work.”
Changkyun shifts on his knees, his cock pulsing and weeping precum over his stomach and dripping down his thighs onto the floor. He wants to touch himself, but he keeps his hands at his sides.
Kihyun’s knees shake a little when Changkyun swallows around him. He grips into Changkyun’s hair tighter and fucks into his throat harder. It only takes three more short thrusts of those gorgeous thin hips before he’s pulling Changkyun back by the hair and spilling his release over Changkyun’s face.
Kihyun’s panting, looking much more affected than Changkyun could have ever hoped. “Oh, Changkyun, I’m sorry.” He drops to his knees and riffles around in his pockets, before pulling out a package of wet wipes. He tugs a wipe from the plastic packet and wipes his own cum from where it had splashed into Changkyun’s eyelashes and onto his cheek.
Changkyun grabs his hand and stops him when he moves to wipe it from Changkyun’s mouth. He pulls his lips inwards, sucking every trace of Kihyun from his skin, and humming, pleased.
Kihyun cups Changkyun’s cheeks and smiles proudly. Changkyun feels so foggy and open. “Thank you, Changkyun. You were very good for me.”
Changkyun smiles back. “You gonna fuck me now.” He pauses, drawing in a much-needed breath. “Daddy?”
Kihyun blinks, smile shifting into a crooked smirk. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Unfortunately, I have a presentation due at 8:30, and it’s now...8.”
“But--” Changkyun crawls forward, and Kihyun looks at him, daring him to say more. “Right. Of course. Yes, Daddy, I’ll be patient.”
Kihyun’s eyes widen like he wasn’t expecting that. Like he was expecting Changkyun to be upset. To leave.
Well Changkyun is nothing if not persistent. Persuasive. Persistent. A real baby doesn’t give up so easily.
“I’ll be good and wait,” Changkyun says.
“That’s a good boy,” Kihyun says, grabbing his laptop and moving to the couch. “C’mere, baby boy, wait here with me.”
Changkyun nods. Kihyun’s hands are shaking when Changkyun curls up with his head on Kihyun’s thigh as he types at his laptop perched on his knees. Changkyun grins, pleased.
“It’s been a while, Daddy,” Changkyun says quietly, after a couple minutes of silence, and Kihyun’s fingers pause over the keyboard. “I’m probably too tight. It’ll take forever to loosen me up enough for your thick--”
Kihyun spanks him, and his skin still stings a bit from before, so he cries out. His lips smack shut seconds later. He feels the pout forming on his swollen, chapped lips.
“Daddy’s busy, baby.”
Changkyun wonders if they’re still in the scene. He’s not super familiar with people who do kink like this. He and Hoseok dabbled in it before. Went to some clubs to learn protocol, but Hoseok was always afraid of hurting him. Kihyun is too careful, too practiced to hurt him. Changkyun senses that’s how Kihyun is about every aspect of his life.
And, god, if that’s not the sexiest thing Changkyun’s ever experienced.
And it would be just like Kihyun, based on the two weeks of minor experience Changkyun has with him, to make a partner wait, in scene, as he finishes his work. Wait to finally get fucked the way he’s wanted for years.
Changkyun starts to fidget in place. His cock is still hard, still dripping, red and flushed and it hurts . And Kihyun is just typing with those gorgeous pale fingers, and Changkyun wants them. Wants him.
Changkyun pants and stretches a little, rubbing his cock against the suede of the couch. Kihyun ignores him. Types more. Reads for a few minutes in silence. Changkyun whines, whimpers, really, fighting to keep his hands away from his cock because he knows Kihyun will punish him again.
“Please,” Changkyun whispers, now full-bodied shaking, goosebumps all up and down his bare skin.
Kihyun pulls his wallet from his pocket and grabs a packet of lube. “Don’t you dare say anything about the wet wipes or the lube, Changkyun.”
“I promise,” Changkyun giggles, pressing his face into Kihyun’s thigh to muffle the sound.
“Don’t move,” Kihyun says, settling back into place with his laptop. “I’m going to read over my presentation, so hold still.”
Changkyun nods, cheek squished against Kihyun’s thigh. “Yes, Daddy.”
Kihyun’s slick fingers trail down the notches of Changkyun’s spine and circle over his entrance. “Quiet, too. Daddy needs to concentrate.”
“Yes, Daddy. Of course.”
Kihyun presses the tip of his finger in, and Changkyun bites down on a whine. He needs more. He needs it all.
Kihyun works two fingers into him as he clenches his hands into tight fists, nails biting into his palms, fighting to keep still, fighting to keep quiet. It’s the most agonizing five minutes of his life. When Kihyun fits in a third finger and presses up against his walls, Changkyun keens.
“Please,” he whispers again, eyes shut tight as he fights the urge to fist his own cock. “I’ve been good. I’ve tried so hard.”
“I know, gorgeous boy. I know,” Kihyun murmurs, working his fingers wider to spread Changkyun’s walls even further apart. He pulls his fingers out after another long moment of agony. “Hands on my desk. Go. Let me give you what you earned.”
Changkyun nearly squeals, and it sounds odd in his low-tone voice. He scrambles off the couch, collapsing onto the floor in a heap, and Kihyun laughs. Laughs right at him.
“Hurry, baby. I don’t like waiting.”
Changkyun meeps and clambers up off the floor to grip the edge of Kihyun’s desk. Hips up, thighs spread, Changkyun peers over his shoulder, cheeks wet with needy tears. “Gimme. Please. Gimme now.”
“What a little brat you are. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you manners? Turn back around.”
Changkyun huffs, listening to the familiar foil rip of a condom wrapper. Kihyun pulls Changkyun’s hips back against him, with no warning, and seats himself deep. Changkyun screams. His voice crackles like it’s being ripped from him.
“Yes,” Changkyun cries, fingers shaking as they grip the edge of the desk. “God, yes.”
“What do you say, baby boy?”
“Thank you,” Changkyun whimpers, the head of his cock rubbing against the surface of Kihyun’s desk as he’s fucked into hard from behind. “Daddy, thank you, it feels so good.”
Kihyun reaches around between Changkyun’s legs and grips the base of his cock. “Not yet, baby. Daddy comes first.”
Changkyun wants to scream again, but he doesn’t even have the energy. The heat, like flare guns firing out of every pore in his body, takes over, and everything starts slipping away again. Kihyun’s hips are like perfectly-controlled bullets. He hits Changkyun’s prostate once, making Changkyun squeak, and then he doesn't move away. He angles himself perfectly over and over and over, and Changkyun can’t breathe.
“Please, I need to--I need--” Changkyun moans brokenly.
“I’m almost there, baby boy, just hold on.”
Changkyun drops his head down, lets everything take over beneath his skin. Lets everything wrap around him tight, pressing in on him in the most delicious way. Kihyun’s thrusts come harder, and the tight grip around Changkyun’s cock makes every stroke against his prostate feel like the worst kind of pleasure.
“Okay, baby, almost, almost.”
Kihyun grips his hips bruisingly and fucks into him shallow, erratic, before stilling, and Changkyun can feel the way he pulses. He wants to feel the way Kihyun would fill him up.
Kihyun pulls out, grabs Changkyun, and hoists him up onto the edge of his desk. He fucks three fingers back into Changkyun and fists his cock hard and fast. Changkyun’s head can barely catch up to the coiling, searing pleasure, and then it hits him hard.
Changkyun drops his head back and screams. The scream breaks off into a shattered cry as he cums hard over Kihyun’s fingers and his own abdomen. He sags, going totally limp, and Kihyun catches him and carries him over to the loveseat.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Kihyun coos, stroking Changkyun’s matted hair back from his face.
Changkyun’s eyelids flutter open. “That was good. Great.”
Kihyun laughs, rolling his eyes. “Mm. I’m gonna get cleaned up, okay? You can doze a little while I do that.”
Changkyun thinks he nods, but everything goes dark with exhaustion.
When he comes to, Kihyun is wiping at his fingers and stomach with the wet wipes. “Sorry,” Kihyun says, smiling gently. “Habit.”
“You’re very neat.”
“I like things a certain way.”
“Listen, uh, Changkyun. This was perfect. Really. It was good. You’re gorgeous and your ass is fucking phenomenal and you are so, so sweet. Really.”
“Why do I feel like this is gonna end in a but .”
Kihyun hands Changkyun his folded clothing. “I don’t do this anymore. For a reason. And it isn’t your fault, so don’t believe it is. Please.”
“Do what? Fuck?”
“Anything more than once. Anything that could be serious. This type of arrangement is serious, Changkyun. I know you might not get that now, but it...there are feelings that come with it. You need trust and l--and other feelings.”
“So I said I don’t do that anymore. I can’t.”
“What if I don’t want more than sex? What if all I want from you is sex and maybe some nice stuff.”
“I need there to be an emotional distance, Changkyun.”
“So let’s do what those kids at Columbia do. Just, you know. The ones with the old married guys who pay their tuition.”
“You want me to be your sugar daddy?”
“You’re a business-minded guy, right? You don’t fall for your clients. It’s purely transactional. I give you the release you desperately --don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true--need, and you give me your fullest Business Daddy aesthetic.”
“Buy me things and tell me I’m cute and I’ll get on my knees for you every fucking day you want. You need to mellow out.”
“You want money?”
Changkyun bites back the urge to admit he doesn’t give a fuck about money. Just wants Kihyun to let him come back. “Like I said. Business transaction. Purely. Sex and money and nothing else.”
Kihyun gnaws at his lip. Starts to shake his head.
“Think about it,” Changkyun blurts. “Just don’t say yes or no now. Think about it.”
He grabs his clothes and hastily throws them back on. Kihyun moves back behind his desk, but he looks calmer than Changkyun has seen him in two weeks.
“You deserve more than this, Changkyun,” Kihyun says, as Changkyun pulls weakly at his office door to slip out.
“If you want to tell me what I deserve, you need to earn that right,” Changkyun retorts, and is gone.