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Cake and Confusion

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“I’m glad you didn’t. Kill yourself, I mean.” The confession slipped out sounding much more sincere than he’d intended, and Jin-hyeok quickly added more flippantly, “That would have been horrible for my karma, since it was my rejection that drove you to it.”

The warm, almost shy smile spreading on Seon-woo’s face told him his chef wasn’t fooled by his bluster, but Jin-hyeok found he didn’t mind so much. It wasn’t as if anyone was around to see, after all, what with Ki-beom still in Paris with that damn Jean-Baptiste and Su-yeong having been called home early due to a burst pipe or something at his new place. Doubtlessly Su-yeong’s fault somehow, just as the small fire last week and the backed-up loo the week before.

“I’m glad, too.” Seon-woo’s head against his shoulder felt familiar at this point, maybe even comfortable, although Jin-hyeok would rather have faced his nightmare shadow than admit it. Seon-woo added with forced levity, “I don’t think I would have much liked hanging myself. I don’t even like breathplay during sex.”

“Yeah, it’s not a nice way to die. And not a nice way not to die either,” Jin-hyeok murmured absentmindedly, the words simply slipping out. He only noticed he’d spoken aloud when Seon-woo jerked away from him, eyes wide and watery with shock. Jin-hyeok could have slapped himself. He’d been meaning to comfort the chef, who’d seemed down in the dumps recently, despite putting up a good front, not to make this about his own fucked up past. Without stopping to think, Jin-hyeok cupped Seon-woo’s face in both hands, willing him to believe his reassurance: “It was a long time ago, and you know how much better I am these days. I swear, the last cake you forced me to try didn’t even make me barf. I'd go so far as to say it was almost edible.”

As he’d hoped, this made Seon-woo smile, although it remained a bit wobbly. Later, Jin-hyeok wouldn’t be able to say what prompted him to do what he did, except that they’d still been standing so close, and Seon-woo’s eyes, still shining with unshed tears for a mistake Jin-hyeok barely even thought about anymore, had flicked to his lips in what was probably a reflex to close proximity to a male of “his type.” It used the be that even a hint of Seon-woo's attraction to him made Jin-hyeok recoil, now he had gotten used to it to the point that he felt something was missing if Seon-woo wasn't occasionally giving him the once-over.

Whatever it was, one moment Jin-hyeok’s hands had been against Seon-woo’s smooth cheeks in an almost-acceptably heterosexual gesture of comfort, the next they’d slid into the silky strand of the chef ’s pony tail, tugging him closer until their noses bumped, sliding against each other. Then their lips met, and Jin-hyeok swallowed Seon-woo’s surprised gasp in an uncoordinated but entirely unhesitating kiss.

He’d acted on impulse, unthinkingly, so it took him a moment to register that Seon-woo wasn’t reacting, Even his hands, which previously had been gripping Jin-hyeok’s elbows, had fallen limply to his sides. Jin-hyeok pulled back as if he’d been scalded, feeling his cheeks heat up as he stumbled backwards, cursing when his funny bone hit the corner of the kitchen counter, adding shooting pain to his mortification. Doubling over, he cradled the aching limb protectively against his body, pretending it was this rather than humiliation that made hot tears prickle behind his eyelids.

“Jin-hyeok, Jin-hyeok, are you alright?” Seon-woo’s concerned voice was followed by the gentle pressure of long fingers, strong from kneading cake dough and nimble from creating all those intricate pastries, forcing Jin-hyeok’s chin upwards. He was biting his lower lip worriedly, glasses slightly askew from Jin-hyeok’s unfortunate attempt, some strands of hair escaping his pony tail, and Jin-hyeok had never wanted to kiss anyone more. Which was... ridiculous, and Jin-hyeok shook his head violently, trying to clear his mind and dislodging Seon-woo’s fingers in the process.

“I’m fine. Sorry if I startled you, I just wanted to distract you,” he lied through clenched teeth. Forcing a laugh he asked, “Did it work?”

They were still standing rather close together, so there was no missing the quick flash of hurt in his friend’s eyes before they cleared and Seon-woo replied in his usual flirtatious manner, “I’m not certain - maybe you should kiss me again, to make sure.”

It wasn’t a question, yet there was something hopeful behind that playful smile, something that Jin-hyeok chose to ignore in favour of stepping away with a grin that felt false stretching on his face. “Nope, sorry. You had your chance, this was a one-time offer.” He turned around, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the already spotless counter. Deliberately not checking what sort of reaction his words had garnered, he added lightly, “We should go to the club once we’ve finished closing up. You’ll find more than your fair share of willing kissing partners there. Or more.”

“Good idea, boss.” Seon-woo sounded normal enough, and Jin-hyeok risked a quick glance from under his lashes. He found his patissier further away than he’d thought, busily putting away the last of the clean dishes. Holding back a sigh, Jin-hyeok rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and left Seon-woo to prep his station for the next morning, while he did the last check of the premises on autopilot, locking up and turning off the lights as he went.

This was normal, routine, and he clung to it desperately, because on the inside, he was in turmoil. He wanted nothing more than to excuse himself and go home, but on the one hand that would mean having to explain himself to Seon-woo and on the other hand, at home he’d have all night to stew over whatever madness had prompted his actions. Getting drunk was infinitely preferable to this, even if it meant having to witness countless guys pawing at Seon-woo all night.

Not that Seon-woo had taken any of them up on their offers on the occasions when Jin-hyeok had joined him at the club, which had become something of a habit on their nights off or when there were no deliveries the next morning. Jin-hyeok had chalked it up to Seon-woo making a conscious effort to break the bad patterns of his past, and he’d been pleased that apparently Seon-woo found his platonic company more fun than sexual adventures in anonymous hotel rooms. Or in the club bathroom, or wherever gay men hooked up. Not that Jin-hyeok had spent any time thinking about such details. Instead, he was rather proud of himself for having grown so secure in his masculinity that he didn’t even mind anymore when people mistook him for Seon-woo’s boyfriend, which happened with increasing frequency.

However, when they left Antique a little while later with the promise to meet at the club once they’d showered and changed, there was a glint in Seon-woo’s eyes that made Jin-hyeok’s stomach drop. Tonight, his friend was going on the prowl, he was certain of it, and he only hoped there was enough alcohol on offer for him to wash down the bitter jealousy that arouse in him at the prospect. He needed to get drunk enough to forget what he'd just done - and to forget that he wanted to do it again.

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Lucky for Jin-hyeok there was indeed alcohol aplenty available, because his instinct had been correct: The moment they entered the club, Seon-woo disappeared into the crowd, only to reappear on stage, grinding with what struck Jin-hyeok as an endless parade of guys in various states of undress. What was worse, Seon-woo had also lost his shirt at some point and gotten covered in glitter, which only served to enhance his demonic charm.

“Good to see him back in the saddle,” the bartender remarked with his usual frankness. “Did he ride you to exhaustion? A guy like him is...”

“...meant to be shared, yes I know,” Jin-hyeok interrupted in disgust . “And no, he most certainly did not ride me, to exhaustion or anything else. We’re just...”

“...friends, you’ve told me before, many times.” This time the bartender was the one to interrupt, but since he accompanied his impertinence with another glass of rather excellent bourbon, Jin-hyeok decided to let it slide. He downed the glass much too quickly for something of this calibre and immediately gestured for more. The bartender obliged, although Jin-hyeok was almost sure he heard him mutter something uncomplimentary under his breath, and the drink came from a much lower shelf. Not that Jin-hyeok cared much anymore at this point. Who needed quality if he could get quantity?

He had managed to put away half a bottle of whatever was put in front of him by the time Seon-woo half-collapsed next to him on the stool next to his. He was literally glistening, sweat and glitter reflecting the pulsing lights from the dancefloor, enhancing his slim but well-muscled torso, his high cheekbones. There was even some glitter caught in his long lashes, and before he could stop himself, Jin-hyeok had reached out and removed it with a gentleness that belied his gruff order to, “Stay still, Seon-woo, you’ll go blind.”

“Th-thank you.” Stumbling a little over his words, Seon-woo’s eyes widened at the small gesture and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, making them glisten invitingly. There was no guile in this, no calculation, and somehow it was all the more irresistible for it. The thought flitted through Jin-hyeok’s mind, fleeting but undeniably real, making him grateful for the low lighting and the flush of alcohol to hide the blush in his cheeks. To distract himself, he quickly emptied his glass and gestured for more, refusing to meet Seon-woo’s eyes and whatever he might be able to read in them. Which was why he jumped in surprise when his friend’s breath suddenly wafted against his ear, whispering, “Oh, Jin-hyeok, do you know what you do to me?”

Jin-hyeok turned abruptly, coming face to face with Seon-woo, so close their noses were almost touching. He recoiled, and Seon-woo’s beautiful features darkened. But only for a second, then they smoothed out, smile hiding in the corners of his mouth, and his grip on Jin-hyeok’s shoulder was firm and reassuring. “I thought you were over this.”

“I... I am.” Jin-hyeok cleared his throat and explained lamely, “You just startled me, that’s all. I thought you’d leave with one of your admirers.”

“Then who’d make sure my boss gets home safe?” The pastry chef’s answer came with gratifying promptness.

Jin-hyeok’s heart squeezed painfully at the matter-of-fact caring in Seon-woo’s voice. Fuck, he was in so much trouble. Still, he felt he should at least put up a token protest. “I’m not that drunk. I can take a taxi.”

“Stop arguing and let me take you home.” Seon-woo’s strong shoulder bumped gently into his, and this time Jin-hyeok didn’t pull back.

On the contrary, he might have leaned into it a little - but only because his balance was off, of course. Catching himself, he shook his head and gestured for the bartender. “Not yet. Let’s have another drink first. Or two.”

“Sure. You’re the boss, after all.” Seon-woo laughed fondly but accepted the cocktail he was handed. They drank in companionable silence which Seon-woo ended up breaking with a funny story about Ki-beom’s latest KakaoTalk message, showing him the accompanying photos on his phone. Jin-hyeok listened and laughed, listing slightly sideways as he relaxed, until their shoulders touched. This time he didn’t move away.

The more they drank, the less Jin-hyeok minded how his mind kept snagging on thoughts about how nice it felt to sit close like this and have Seon-woo’s undivided attention. He always liked it when it was just the two of them, not just now but also at the Bakery, no matter how much he complained about having to do all the work himself.

He only realised he was smiling to himself in a manner that didn’t match the story Seon-woo was currently telling, when the pastry chef prodded him curiously, “Jin-hyeok, what’s going on in that handsome head of yours?”

“Handsome, huh?” Jin-hyeok couldn’t help the pleased grin spreading on his face, although Seon-woo routinely flirted with him in much more outrageous ways. “Am I more handsome than the guys that have gone to their knees for you?”

“Oh, Jin-hyeok, I don’t know what I’d do if you were on your knees,” Seon-woo laughed, but there was an edge to it, a darkness that made Jin-hyeok shiver helplessly, even before Seon-woo added under his breath, “Not that I haven’t imagined it.”

He was almost certainly not meant to hear this, but the pounding music hit an unexpected quiet note just then, and Jin-hyeok breathed in sharply, his brain suddenly conjuring up the mental image of himself kneeling before Seon-woo with startling clarity. Next to him Seon-woo was blushing fiercely and trying to hide his face behind the curtain of his hair, and once again reacting without thinking, Jin-hyeok reached out and tugged the silky strands behind his ear.

Seon-woo’s eyes snapped up, almost all pupil, and Jin-hyeok swallowed at the naked hunger in them, which he dimly realised was normally kept under tight control. It should scare him, to see Seon-woo’s desire so clearly, and maybe it would have if it hadn’t been for the alcohol-induced haziness. Instead heat curled in his stomach, making it all too easy to lean in and whisper roughly, “I’ll do it. I could go to my knees right here, right now. Do you want me to, Seon-woo?”

At some point he’d rested one hand on Seon-woo’s upper thigh, so he could feel him jerk in surprise and noticed a bulge tenting those skin-tight leather pants. It made Jin-hyeok feel powerful, unafraid, and more than a little aroused himself. Why hadn’t he done this earlier? He could no longer fault Seon-woo’s admirers for their ardour, and he said so, the words slipping out unguardedly.

Immediately Seon-woo’s eyes cleared, and with a quick shake of his head, Jin-hyeok’s hand was gently but firmly removed from its dangerous perch. Tangling their fingers together, Seon-woo slid off his bar stool pulled Jin-hyeok to his feet as well. The world tilted dangerously around him for a moment, but Seon-woo was there, steadying him with an arm around his waist. “Time to get you home.”

What?” Jin-hyeok asked dumbly. Even through the fog of his intoxication he could tell that the statement was no preamble to seduction. He felt stupidly hurt by this, and it probably showed on his face, because Seon-woo’s eyes softened.

Tipping his chin upwards with the hand not currently wrapped around Jin-hyeok, the pastry chef fixed him with a small smile that hovered somewhere between sad and promising. “Ask me again tomorrow, Jin-hyeok, when you’re not so drunk, and I might just say yes.”

After that he refused to say anything more on the topic, and Jin-hyeok let himself be manhandled into a taxi and finally into his bed, where he promptly passed out. The last thing he registered was Seon-woo’s fingers carding gently through his hair.

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Jin-hyeok woke with a pounding head and cotton mouth, and for a long while he just lay there, groaning pitifully and wishing he was dead. Or that Su-yeong still lived with him, to look after him or to be a target for his foul mood, either would have been fine with Jin-hyeok.

Instead he finally forced his gritty eyes open and rolled onto his back – very slowly, so as to not aggravate his head. Now he remembered why he rarely drowned his sorrows; the aftermath simply wasn’t worth it. Especially since he was starting to remember what he’d said and done last night.

“Fuck.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Did I really...”

But unfortunately he was pretty damn sure that he had, in fact, really propositioned Seon-woo. And had been rejected. With another muffled curse, he rolled back over, intending to hide under the covers until he no longer felt like dying from mortification. However, as he did so, he caught sight of a bottle of water on the nightstand, a yellow post-it pasted to its side.

Wincing, he sat up carefully and peered at Seon-woo’s scrawled note: Stop freaking out and drink this.

At the bottom Seon-woo had drawn a smiley face and an arrow pointing to the left of the water bottle. Only now did Jin-hyeok notice the small can of the popular hangover remedy Dawn 808 that had been put onto the nightstand by thoughtful hands that he knew almost better than his own. Warmth washed through him, touched by Seon-woo’s kindness, and he could feel a dopey smile splitting his face.

He tossed back the bitter draft obediently and washed it down with plenty of water. Despite this it took him another half hour before he managed to convince his body that it would definitely benefit from a shower. Once clean, he brushed his teeth and pulled on some clothes before making his way downstairs, all the while very pointedly not thinking of the night before.

For a while he succeeded quite well, focusing instead on everything he needed to get done at the bakery today. Unfortunately, thoughts of Antique invariably led to thoughts of Seon-woo, the two inextricably linked in his mind. And right now he was leaving his chef to fend for himself, which was rather unfair, no matter how much Jin-hyeok would have liked to postpone the moment he had to face him indefinitely.

Sighing he shrugged on a jacket and headed towards the kitchen, intending only to grab a banana on his way out. However, once downstairs, the familiar and comforting smell of bugeoguk, dried pollack soup, greeted him. Realising that this was yet another caring gesture from Seon-woo, Jin-hyeok’s heart did a funny little flip-flop, and he approached the stove, which had remained cold since Su-yeong had left, almost reverently.

Lifting the lid of the pot, the smell of dried fish and anchovy intensified, mixed with tofu and egg, the soothing broth kept warm at the lowest setting. It looked home-cooked, not store-bought, and Jin-hyeok stared in amazement. How long had Seon-woo stayed at his place last night, looking after him?

As if in answer, his gaze fell on the couch, where a neatly folded blanket sat that definitely hadn’t been there the day before. Oh. Jin-hyeok had to swallow hard past the sudden lump in his throat, blinking furiously when tears rose unbidden to his eyes. Only Su-yeong had ever cared for him like this, and while yesterday’s kiss and the humiliation at the club had unsettled Jin-hyeok, now he felt terrified. This was about so much more than sex, and if he knew anything, he knew that he was a disaster when it came to relationships.

Except Seon-woo knew all that, and yet he’d stayed, never demanding anything, simply fitting himself into Jin-hyeok’s life as if he’d always been there. Their relationship, be it professional, as friends or, did he dare think it, as lovers, shouldn’t work – but it did. It could.

Taking one lasts look at the bugeoguk, Jin-hyeok shook himself out of his reverie and turned off the stove, leaving the soup untouched. There was no way he could eat something, the turmoil in his stomach completely unrelated to the last vestiges of his hangover. He wasn’t sure what he’d do once he reached the bakery and saw Seon-woo, but he knew he’d do something. He just hoped he hadn’t misread the signs horribly.

There was precedence for this, after all – but as Jin-hyeok forced himself to pay attention to traffic on his way to the bakery, even his panicky brain couldn’t imagine Seon-woo ever being casually or deliberately cruel to him. It was the only thing that stopped him from turning tail.

When he reached Antique he parked in his usual spot and took a deep, steadying breath, which did absolutely nothing to calm him down. Still, he managed to get out of the car, unable to suppress a fond smile when he noticed that Seon-woo had opened by himself and was currently being mobbed by no less than five school girls. He was smiling politely, but Jin-hyeok easily recognised the tension in the set of his jaw and the way in which he kept tucking non-existing strands of hair behind his ear.

Not giving himself time to panic, Jin-hyeok quickly entered the bakery and joined Seon-woo at the window, smoothly taking over. Selling cake was something he could do in his sleep, even if his stupid stomach fluttered a little when Seon-woo shot him a grateful look, pressing himself against his side for a moment before retreating back into the kitchen.

There was a steady flow of customers all morning. A part of Jin-hyeok was grateful for the distraction, but another, surprisingly large part became increasingly impatient as time went by without a chance to do more than hand over cake orders or shout for Seon-woo to lend him a hand when necessary. He barely had time to eat, only able to stuff a steamed kimchi bun into his mouth because Seon-woo literally shoved it into his hand and shooed him into the back for five minutes.

Jin-hyeok finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed at 8pm, even happier than usual that he no longer had any reason to keep the bakery open at night. He cleaned the front in record speed, always peripherally aware of Seon-woo’s presence in the kitchen. As he’d hoped, he managed to finish before Seon-woo had left – however, when he approached the kitchen door, he found himself suddenly reluctant to open it.

Instead he stared through the glass opening, warmth welling up in him as he caught sight of his pastry chef diligently checking that everything was ready for the next day. When Seon-woo absentmindedly tucked some stray hairs that had escaped his pony tail behind his ear, Jin-hyeok’s fingers twitched with the urge to repeat the gesture. As if taken over by some outside force, his hand lifted and he pressed it against the window, still rooted to the spot. Which was of course when Seon-woo looked up, eyes widening when he took in Jin-hyeok.

“Shit!” Cursing at being caught in the act, Jin-hyeok tore his treacherous hand away and stumbled backwards, promptly landing on his butt, right on his tailbone. Whining to himself at the pain shooting up his spine, he almost missed Seon-woo opening the door, carefully avoiding stepping onto him. He offered him a hand, but Jin-hyeok only stared at it dumbly, his body apparently having forgotten how to move.

Unperturbed, Seon-woo leaned down and pulled him to his feet quite easily, reminding Jin-hyeok of the lean muscle he’d seen on display when they’d been clubbing. Well, when Seon-woo was clubbing, and Jin-hyeok was watching him like the least straight straight guy in the history of straightness. Blushing in hot embarrassment, Jin-hyeok quickly turned away, mumbling some sort of apology.

It was only Seon-woo’s gentle but firm grip on his wrist that stopped him from running. He stopped in his tracks, immobilised by the sensation of Seon-woo’s thumb tracing circles against his wrist. Who’d have thought the skin there was so sensitive? Entranced, he almost didn’t hear Seon-woo ask, “Jin-hyeok, are you alright?”

“Of course,” he replied gruffly, immediately regretting his harsh tone of voice and adding more peaceably, “Thanks for looking after me yesterday.”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet Seon-woo’s eyes, but when his gaze fell downwards, all he could see was that he still hadn’t let go of his hand; a sight that wasn’t any less fraught with danger than the softness he just knew would be visible on Seon-woo’s face, even before he said reassuringly, “Always. No matter what happens between us, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jin-hyeok gulped for air, finding it suddenly quite difficult to breathe. Of course Seon-woo would know why he was panicking – he was probably the only person in the world who did. It had little to do with the fact that Seon-woo was a guy and everything to do with Jin-hyeok’s disastrous track record with relationships. He was dimly aware that Seon-woo was still holding his wrist, and with another deep breath, Jin-hyeok turned his hand, sliding his palm against the other man’s.

“Yes, I know.” Trembling only a little, he tangled their fingers together and finally risked a peek at Seon-woo’s face. What met him there was a look of such stunned happiness, Jin-hyeok’s heart skipped a beat. He’d done that. With something as simple as holding hands he’d caused this. It gave him the courage to lift his head and meet Seon-woo’s awe-struck eyes head-on, even managing a bashful smile.

The next moment he was pulled forward by a decisive movement of Seon-woo’s hand, half-falling against the other man with a startled, “Oof!”

Whatever he might have said next was swallowed by Seon-woo’s lips against his. A part of him must have waited for this, because Jin-hyeok immediately reacted, his entire body coming to life as Seon-woo practically devoured him. They clung together for dear life, as if they’d both waited for this moment forever, and Jin-hyeok decided right then and there that he’d been eminently stupid to not have done this right from the start.

Although, if most of his blood wasn’t so busy rushing downwards, he’d probably have admitted that it probably only felt so incredible because of everything that had come before. Not that Seon-woo wasn’t a great kisser to start with, because he most definitely was, especially when he tangled one hand in Jin-hyeok’s hair and slipped the other up the back of his shirt, pressing their bodies together.

From one second to the next Jin-hyeok was achingly, embarrassingly hard, but luckily Seon-woo wasn’t far behind, as he proved when he slid a thigh between Jin-hyeok’s legs. They both groaned when they rocked together, but neither wanted to stop kissing, so they blindly fumbled their way through the kitchen door.

Jin-hyeok barely noticed that he banged his elbow against a wall and his hip against a table, too busy fumbling with the many, many buttons on Seon-woo’s chef’s whites. Finally he gave up and simply tore at the shirt, cursing into Seon-woo’s mouth when the fabric proved too stubborn.

Laughing, Seon-woo tore himself away quickly, dropping the offending garment to the spotless floor, and went back to kissing the living daylights out of Jin-hyeok before the latter had time to protest. Seon-woo had more luck with Jin-hyeok’s shirt, doubtlessly due to greater practice, sliding it off his arms in one decisive motion. It landed on top of the work surface, which Jin-hyeok only noticed because Seon-woo pushed him back onto it, climbing up after him. Something suspiciously like a squeak escaped Jin-hyeok as he found his body covered by a very determined and very aroused pastry chef, but it most definitely wasn’t a complaint. On the contrary, now that he’d stopped being so damn scared, all he could think was that he wanted “More, please, Seon-woo!”

“As you wish.” He could feel Seon-woo’s smirk against his skin as he began to mouth his way down Jin-hyeok’s neck and across his chest. Every touch of his lips made Jin-hyeok gasp and squirm, until Seon-woo immobilised him with the weight of his body and two firm hands on his wrists. Jin-hyeok could have gotten free, of course, but he found that he very much didn’t want to, especially when Seon-woo’s teeth gently grazed his nipples and moved further down.

He had to let go of Jin-hyeok’s hands when he reached his jeans, allowing Jin-hyeok to slide his hands into Seon-woo’s hair, pulling the last of it out of the remnants of his pony tail. It fell like silky black curtain over the pastry chef’s face, and Jin-hyeok pushed it back, partly because it felt nice, but mostly so he wouldn’t miss one second of this: Seon-woo kneeling between his legs, opening his zipper and taking out his erection. He cradled it in his dextrous hands for a moment, and Jin-hyeok had to remind himself to breathe, even before Seon-woo fixed him with a playful smile and swallowed him whole.

“Fuck!” Jin-hyeok arched upwards, his grip in Seon-woo’s hair tightening. He quickly let go and apologised, but Seon-woo just shook his head and went back to work. Work in this case apparently being the task of sucking Jin-hyeok’s brain out by way of his cock – and as always, Seon-woo was nothing if not diligent, soon reducing Jin-yeok to a whimpering mess.

The fact that Seon-woo was visibly enjoying himself didn’t help, and Jin-hyeok finally came with a hoarse shout when a nimble finger found its way behind his balls, teasing him in a way that Jin-hyeok realised didn’t repulse him half as much as he’d thought. Or at all, really, as he hazily admitted to himself once his brain had recovered enough of its faculties to form coherent thought.

He became aware of cool air on his sticky cock when Seon-woo released it slowly from his mouth, the smile on his face blinding. Jin-hyeok managed to smile back, albeit still a bit fuzzy around the edges. “What’s so funny? You didn’t get yours yet, after all.”

“Nothing’s funny,” Seon-woo replied with a chuckle and slid up the table so they were face to face again. “And I’ve gotten more than I ever thought I would.”

Did he really think Jin-hyeok would just leave things like this? Shaking his head in exasperation, he murmured, “That must be the stupidest thing you ever said,” and kissed Seon-woo in a way he hoped would dispel any stupid notions he might still harbour.

A hickupping sigh of relief escaped Seon-woo, and he kissed back passionately. They were aligned from head to toe, so there was no mistaking the hardness rubbing against Jin-hyeok’s leg. Moving back a little, he wormed his hand between their bodies, happy to discover that the chef’s trousers were much easier to open than his shirt had been.

There was a second during which Jin-hyeok hesitated, but then Seon-woo’s teeth caught his bottom lip between his teeth. With a moan Jin-hyeok let go of the last of his scruples, wrapping his hand firmly around another man’s cock for the first time. Seon-woo’s entire body shuddered, and Jin-hyeok was once again awe-struck by the effect he had on this beautiful – and very experienced – man.

He began stroking Seon-woo, trying to remember how he himself liked to be touched, all the while continuing to kiss. However, this soon became close to impossible, on one hand because Jin-hyeok wanted to focus to make this good and on the other because Seon-woo’s breath started to become more and more uneven. Little gasps and moans escaped him, which Jin-hyeok found entirely captivating – and very, very hot.

His cock gave a tired twitch, and if he hadn’t just come, he would definitely have gotten hard again when Seon-woo dug his fingers into his shoulders and came with a should of his name. Jin-hyeok held him through his orgasm, delighting in the way he first stiffened and then melted against him. Resting his head against his shoulder, Seon-woo murmured sleepily, “I’m so glad you decided to open a bakery.”

“Me too,” Jin-hyeok answered without hesitation. Pulling Seon-woo closer to himself, he glanced around the kitchen. From a hygiene standpoint they really shouldn’t make a habit out of this – but he had a feeling that this might have been the first but by far not the last time they’d get carried away here. And he didn’t mind. At all.

Actually, he couldn’t wait.