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“…Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m sorry, Hyuk-ah,” Hongbin sighs from the other side of the phone speaker, “but he really needs you then. No buts, no exceptions.”
“…But I’m his son , and it’s our goddamn birthday weekend, hyung! How the fuck can he expect me to fly up there for tomorrow ni-”
“You are the heir to the business, after all.” Hongbin softly interjects. “You know this company inside out, and he’d want you there the most, more than any of us…”
“He only wants me there to make a good fucking impression, you know that!” Sanghyuk venomously spits back. “Besides, doesn’t he realise that I’m on the other side of the fucking country by now?”
“You know what your father’s like, Hyuk-ah. He’ll send somebody out to retrieve you. He’ll track you down soon enough, I’m sure.”
A futile sigh is extruded into the air through Sanghyuk’s smoke-abused lungs, all that’s needed to indicate his inner turmoil.
“Again… I’m sincerely sorry about this Hyuk-ah, especially at a time like th-”
“It’s not like it’s your fault though, is it? You’re paid to do this shit.”
The line momentarily dies, enough for the audible chirp of crickets to sound in the distance, beyond this rundown caravan Sanghyuk placed himself in. It’s something he would’ve found downright hilarious if not for this current predicament.
“Anyways, I’ll wait for one of his meatheads to find me… Goodnight, hyung. Sorry for the outburst.”
He cuts the call before Hongbin even has the chance of replying.
Clumsily, Sanghyuk puts the phone down onto the dashboard, shakily raking his fingers through his blond locks. Yet another elongated, uneven sigh erupts from his lips, mingling amongst the lukewarm midnight air, but seemingly abrupt enough to have the passenger beside him stir from his slumber with a soft mewl.
“Mmrh…Babe? Baby, what’s wrong?”
Hyuk visibly sours, internally pissed at himself for having woken his boyfriend up in his current stupor. But he doesn’t hesitate to get straight to the point:
“Dad wants me back. For business, tomorrow fucking night. I’m sorry…”
Hakyeon’s soft almond eyes widen, alertness beginning to glimmer in his pupils to replace the clouds of fatigue which had previously reigned over them.
“What… Already?”
Sanghyuk stiffly nods, face painted with the very definition of grim.
“It’s not like I can get out of this, either” the younger man laments on through gritted teeth. “It’s a crucial launch, apparently. He needs me there for… Photographs and shit. I’m, ugh. I’m really sorry, babe...”
He feels compelled to tighten his grip onto the steering wheel, until knuckles practically turn alabaster from the unsettling, deeply-rooted rage. Hakyeon gently sighs himself, cupping the younger’s burning cheeks into his palms, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Look, this isn’t your fault, alright?” he murmurs sweetly, now stroking his cheek with the pads of his thumbs. “You didn’t see this coming. Plus, we can always rearrange, can’t we?”
“It’s not like he doesn’t already run me into the fucking ground as it is though, is it?” he remarks back bitterly.
A thin laugh falls from Sanghyuk’s lips, as well as the subtlest twitch of a pained smile. Hakyeon pulls him in rather abruptly into a tight embrace, rubbing circles against the youngest’s back to alleviate the excruciating huff of exhaustion that rips out of him.
With all the strength that he can muster, Sanghyuk fights every remaining fibre in his being to not break down then and there, right between Hakyeon’s arms.
But then again, he’s not sure if he can endure all these overbearing shifts, the corporate familial pressure, nor the sleepless nights for that much longer anymore.
It’s been his begrudging state of existence for as long as he could recall; even before Hakyeon had come into his life and the pair ended up meeting each other in the most cliched of ways - at the neighbouring coffee shop to the Han’s empire.
Hakyeon’s need for part-time work to tide over study expenses and the younger’s unwanted position under his father’s wing inevitably lead to their union. And it’s probably remained the best thing to have happened in all of Sanghyuk’s 24 years of life.
Time itself seems like nothing but an obscured, abstract concept to him with his body entwined into the elder’s in such a way; this indescribable slowness taking over, with Hakyeon’s adoration bleeding into him through the warmth that his body emanates, the sweet murmurings into his ear which electrify his skin.
Funniest part is, they hadn’t been all that far away from Jeju Island either. But there had never been a way to escape Sanghyuk’s father, nor his ever-mounting demands. Such knowledge was practically instilled into him by now, and this occasion would be no exception.
“Come on, let’s turn back,” Sanghyuk grunts out, reluctantly parting from the elder’s clutches to return his grip onto the steering wheel.
“But didn’t they say they’d come down to find you?”
“They sure did. But where would be the fun in that, eh?”
Sanghyuk spots Hakyeon’s glimmering smile reflected under the moonlight, all that’s needed for him to push a foot onto the pedal and rev off into the distance.
If they’re inevitably going to drag him back, why should he make it easy for them?
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