Wooseok can’t remember the last time he stepped foot inside Seungwoo’s office.
A year ago, he thinks. Or maybe even two. When Wooseok graduated from over the table meetings to under the table ones, he never had to look back. That includes seeing Seungwoo at work. But Seungwoo can be surprisingly childish, and in the end, his pestering over not wanting to drive to Wooseok’s apartment won out over Wooseok’s own stubbornness.
It’s just really far from his home. And Wooseok is always lazy after missions.
The office is spacious, opening right out from the elevator. Seungwoo’s apartment is on the floor above, and Wooseok notes the new spiralling staircase Seungwoo sent him pictures of while going up. Despite how lavishly wealthy Seungwoo is, the actual furniture is cozy. The only thing that makes it feel like an actual office is the stack of papers in front of him and the smattering of fresh ink on his cheek.
“I can’t believe you made me come all the way out here,” Wooseok sighs, interrupting Seungwoo’s seemingly very intense paperwork.
He jolts up at Wooseok’s voice, knocking his glasses askew as he blinks himself back into reality. Seungwoo’s quick to regain his composure, however. “Good to see you remembered the code to the door. I was wondering if I should’ve texted you it, seeing as you took so long to get here.”
“That’s because I live two hours away, not because I’m forgetful. You better make this worth my while.” He says it out of playful spite, but the answering look Seungwoo gives him is anything but. The smile that plays at his lips is coy, and Wooseok warms a bit at how much he loves that expression on him.
“I will. You can go upstairs if you want, I’ll be there when I’m done.”
Wooseok hums in confirmation, patting Seungwoo’s head as he walks by. He knows Seungwoo works hard, just as hard as the rest of them, even though he mostly stays holed up in his office nowadays.
He shrugs off his jacket and tie, setting them on the living room table upstairs. It’s incredibly rare that Seungwoo asks for someone to come to him, rather than the other way around. Not just Wooseok, but all of them; he must be really bored. Or tired. Or maybe just a bit lonely.
As much as Wooseok needs this break, Seungwoo probably does as well.
Not much has changed since the last time Wooseok was here, except for the new smattering of personal items. It’s not much—their line of work dictates that they shouldn’t keep their valuables in their houses. Wooseok follows the same rule in his own apartment. However, there’s a few pictures here and there, of Seungwoo with Wooseok, Hangyul, Seungyoun, Yohan, the kids, their annoying little dog—it’s cute. It’s almost domestic. Like they’re a big happy family.
There’s only one photo of all of them up. The date is from over a year ago. Wooseok looks over their little smiling faces and can’t help but smile back. He hates to admit it and he knows some of the others hate it even more, but he misses them.
Well, he has Seungwoo less than a floor away, and that’s what matters right now.
Rather than turning on the TV, he flops onto Seungwoo’s plush couch and flips through one of the books on his coffee table. The Eccentric Life of Cho Seungyoun: A Biography. The picture on the cover is rather unflattering, all things considered. Wooseok hasn’t read it—he wouldn’t dare to kill his own brain cells like that—but Seungwoo’s job is information, so he has copies of everything and anything important.
Suddenly, seeing Seungyoun’s face, however angry it looks on the cover, brings a pang to his heart. He hasn’t spoken to him in a month, at least. Seungyoun is probably counting, and Wooseok will make fun of him for it, but he knows why. He has two weeks until he flies back, assuming everything goes well. Wooseok fully intends to jump him the moment he lands.
“It’s pretty bad,” Seungwoo says; this time being the one to interrupt Wooseok’s thoughts. “Not only is it inaccurate, it’s also just one of the worst reads ever.”
“I’m pretty sure I recognize this author’s name from the tabloids, so.” Wooseok laughs and opens his arms. Seungwoo sits next to him, leaning against his chest. It’s a bit awkward, since their size difference doesn’t really work in Wooseok’s favour here, but Seungwoo’s eyes shut contentedly and Wooseok can’t bring himself to complain.
Well, until a few minutes pass. Then he nudges Seungwoo with his foot until he opens his eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep. You promised me something,” Wooseok pouts.
Seungwoo blinks at him, but Wooseok can tell he’s holding back a smile. He sits back, stretching and yawning at the same time. Wooseok blatantly stares at the way his shirt rides up to expose his stomach.
He can’t help it. He pokes Seungwoo’s belly button.
“Okay, that was just weird,” Seungwoo finally breaks, laughing. “I thought we could eat first. You know, before diving into hours of sex. Sex is exhausting, you know.”
Wooseok huffs and rests his hands on Seungwoo’s shoulders, moving to sit on his lap. He loves this position because it forces Seungwoo’s arms around him; big and strong, holding him like he’s precious.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks. We can eat after.” He gives his best puppy dog eyes. Or, probably more accurate, expectant cat eyes. “Besides, the adrenaline will keep you going.”
“Oh, yeah?” Seungwoo slips his hands underneath Wooseok’s shirt, cool palms on Wooseok’s bare back. He shivers once, shutting his eyes.
“Yeah,” is all he can think to say before Seungwoo kisses him.
Wooseok knows all different types of kisses, Seungwoo’s included. Sometimes they’re rough, with Seungwoo holding onto his jaw to keep him in place. Sometimes they’re just pecks, to tease him and make him giggle. Sometimes they’re just normal, like coming home to an old friend.
And then sometimes they’re like this. A mixture of all of them. Seungwoo cups his jaw lightly, thumb moving over his cheek. It’s not particularly deep, but it’s enough to make something stir in the pit of Wooseok’s stomach. It’s not like coming home to something old, but rather something new; something that never gets old.
Wooseok sighs happily, melting against Seungwoo’s chest. He knew he needed this, but he didn’t know how much until right now. To just have Seungwoo hold him and kiss him like he wants nothing more right now—Wooseok definitely can’t think of anything better.
“Missed that noise,” Seungwoo says when they part. “That little sigh. So cute.”
Wooseok does it again on purpose, but it’s not the same and they both know it. Eyes crinkling, Seungwoo peppers kisses all over the underside of his jaw.
“I haven’t heard the noise I’ve missed yet,” Wooseok mumbles. Seungwoo’s face grows more serious, a pink flush spreading over his pale skin. Wooseok feels winded.
“Which one, kitten?” Seungwoo asks. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. After all, you’ve been so good lately.” He brushes Wooseok’s hair, petting him like a cat in tune with his favourite pet name.
Wooseok could fall asleep like this, if he were in any other situation. But currently, he’s sitting on Seungwoo’s thigh, cock hardening in his pants and his mind filtering through dozens of scenarios he wants to happen, and he definitely isn’t going to be falling asleep anytime soon. Not before he gets what he needs.
“I don’t know,” he replies shortly. Seungwoo makes something like a frown against his neck and bites him in warning. His teeth pinch Wooseok’s skin, delicate and carefully unblemished, and his chest rises as he gasps. “I want to suck you off,” he says quickly, correcting himself. “Please,” he adds. Seungwoo lets go of him, pleased, but Wooseok’s whole body is throbbing in the aftermath still.
Just from one bite. He knows what Seungwoo is thinking about him already.
Wooseok shifts, trying to free the pressure on his cock, and feels Seungwoo’s in the process. Already chubbing up against his leg, and Wooseok’s mouth waters. “Please,” he says again, just a bit more desperate.
“You think I’m going to say no?” Seungwoo asks, bemused. He continues to brush through Wooseok’s hair. “Go ahead.”
“I like hearing confirmation,” Wooseok mumbles, flushing. Seungwoo takes his time pushing Wooseok off him, though; he rubs his free hand against Wooseok’s chest, over his nipple underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Wooseok whines, squeezing his eyes shut and then immediately reopening them to see Seungwoo looking at him. Eyes hooded, lips coy. He leans over and presses his mouth to Wooseok’s chest, dragging his tongue around the nub until it’s hard. He bites him there too and Wooseok jerks back, fingers shaking along Seungwoo’s shoulders.
“Hyung,” he says, not even sure what he’s trying to say. But Seungwoo knows him better than himself and kisses him, properly, like he needs him. His tongue touches Wooseok’s and he opens his mouth to moan, only for Seungwoo to take the chance to nip at his lip. He squirms back again, almost afraid of how intense Seungwoo is. Not in a bad way, it’s just—a lot. It’s overwhelming.
Wooseok slips onto shaky knees, Seungwoo’s expensive, plush carpet cushioning him. Seungwoo gently guides the back of his head forward, until Wooseok’s face is right in front of the tent in his pants.
He glances up at Seungwoo, just to be sure. Seungwoo nods and so Wooseok carefully undoes his zipper, watching closely as his cock slips out just a bit from his boxers. There’s already a significant wet spot forming, and Wooseok sucks in a deep breath before pressing his lips to the tip poking out from his boxers.
“Wooseok,” Seungwoo says softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. It’s only his name, but it only serves to ignite the arousal in his veins. He presses more purposefully this time, letting his tongue wrap around as much as he can before pulling Seungwoo’s boxers down properly.
He’s so hard, and so big, all of him so much bigger than Wooseok. Even when Wooseok averts his gaze to focus on sucking Seungwoo off, he can feel Seungwoo’s eyes on him. The strength in Seungwoo’s grip on his neck is just enough to prompt him to bring Seungwoo into his mouth. Slow, steady, he finally relaxes and just basks in Seungwoo’s moan.
“Mmf,” Wooseok groans around Seungwoo in his mouth, feeling his own cock stir against his thigh. He rubs himself as best as he can without moving properly, and while normally Seungwoo would stop him, he only provides a breathless noise of satisfaction as Wooseok sucks him.
Finally releasing Seungwoo to breathe, his chest heaves in pants unsuited for how soft his mouth was on Seungwoo. He doesn’t even know why he’s so worked up, all he knows is that he wants Seungwoo in his mouth, his hole, his big arms wrapped around him, everything. He wants Seungwoo so deep in him that he can feel the ache for days. Wooseok is greedy, but he’s not ashamed; any person would be the same in front of Seungwoo.
“Don’t stop,” Seungwoo murmurs, more of a command than a whine. He presses his thumb to Wooseok’s wet lips. “Kitten,” he adds, practically purring himself. Wooseok’s pulse jumps abruptly.
“I—I love it when you call me that,” Wooseok admits, even if he knows Seungwoo is already aware. “I didn’t ask what you wanted me to call you.” he says it as a joke, but Seongwoo doesn’t take it as such by the way his eyes darken and his cock smears precum against Wooseok’s lips.
Seungwoo’s moods change all the time, and so do the names he likes to be called. Seungwoo’s not his boss nor his master, but there’s something about the thought that gets them both going, at least for the time they’re having sex. For a second, Wooseok thinks Seungwoo is going to agree with Wooseok’s thoughts, before he fists his hair and drags Wooseok back onto his cock.
“I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth that isn’t my name,” Seungwoo whispers, and his words fall over Wooseok like fire, setting his skin aflame. He tries to moan, muffled around Seungwoo’s cock, but he just ends up drooling. “I don’t want to hear anything that you call anyone else. Say my name.”
Wooseok’s throat burns and he nods, one hand shakily going to hold Seungwoo’s cock. He pumps him in the places he can’t suck, licks him fervently so he can live up to his nickname. Seungwoo keeps murmuring, Wooseok and kitten and variations of you’re so good that pass through Wooseok’s ears like music. His hands and mouth are tired after a few minutes but he can’t stop, not until Seungwoo tells him to. Not when sucking him off feels like a gift, something sweeter than chocolate, only because he gets to hear the breathy noises Seungwoo doesn’t let out anywhere else.
His lips stay parted even when Seungwoo pulls him off. Half of his brain is hyper aware of his cock constantly brushing against his pants, just as hard as Seungwoo’s and begging to be touched; the other half is so focused on Seungwoo he barely notices other than the way his legs keep shifting, trying to get more friction.
“When was the last time you got fucked, kitten?” Seungwoo asks. He pulls Wooseok onto his lap, leaning back so Wooseok is over him. But even if Wooseok is the one looking down for once, he feels impossibly small underneath Seungwoo’s hooded gaze. Wooseok groans, trying to paw Seungwoo’s shirt off instead of answering, not wanting but needing to see more of his flushed skin, but Seungwoo catches his wrist. “Answer me.”
“Like,” Wooseok’s hazy mind tries to remember how to count, “Three days ago?”
“Hm. What happened? Or should I say who?” He moves his hand over Wooseok’s wrist.
Seungwoo’s thumb moving over his palm is incredibly distracting; every brush back and forth a little heavier than the last. The longer it goes on the more Wooseok’s chest tightens with need. Everything about Seungwoo makes Wooseok feel like he’ll die without him. If he doesn’t have Seungwoo’s fingers in him, then on him; if his mouth isn’t singing Wooseok praises, then it better be kissing him. But Wooseok is in no position to demand things when he can barely form sentences.
“Yohan and I—we used that big private bath,” Wooseok struggles to recall. They were tipsy, and as admittedly romantic as he can be sometimes, Wooseok can’t actually remember the details of every time he has sex. But he can recall the feeling still, the hazy memory of Yohan panting into his ear, mumbling about how good Wooseok feels around him. Yohan deep inside him, slurring hyung, hyung against his nape.
“There was nothing better to do,” he adds as an excuse. As if that matters. Even if there was something better to do, Yohan and Wooseok are a bad combination when it comes to impulse control. And especially when it comes to sex.
“Really,” Seungwoo laughs, a genuine chuckle as he finally releases Wooseok’s hand. He mourns the loss until Seungwoo readjusts himself to hold Wooseok’s slim waist. Seungwoo’s hands are so big they practically cover his entire waist. “And yet here you are. Three days later.”
“Here I am,” Wooseok echoes, hips bucking against Seungwoo’s when he shifts ever-so slightly.
The grin on Seungwoo’s face spreads wider. Wooseok despises how easily Seungwoo smiles; how well he can pull at Wooseok’s strings and stay seemingly calm while Wooseok breaks apart. But then his grin turns into something else, something that makes his eyes burn, and he leans in to bite Wooseok’s ear.
“Then either you didn’t get fucked well enough by Yohan,” Seungwoo starts. He moves to grip Wooseok’s ass, the switch so sudden Wooseok can’t try and contain the small gasp that leaves him. “Or you’re just a slut. And I don’t think you have any complaints about Yohan’s dick, so.”
Wooseok doesn’t know how to reply to that, except to try and steel the tug in his chest by focusing on Seungwoo’s grip instead. He lifts himself up more, letting Seungwoo’s hand fit over his ass, not even doing anything to his hole and yet Wooseok’s mind is running. He moans when Seungwoo pinches his nipple to get his attention.
“Then say it,” Seungwoo says. “If you really want it, say it. I know we all fuck you well enough. So what is it?”
“I’m—a slut. I’m a slut. Oh my god, hyung, please,” Wooseok says, knowing full well how exasperated and wanton he sounds. He tries to frown to prove his point but he just ends up pouting instead, lower lip wobbling. “I thought this was supposed to be a reward.”
“Just because you’re being teased doesn’t mean this isn’t a reward. You know what punishments are like. This isn’t one,” Seungwoo points out.
That he does. And unlike the others, Seungwoo’s punishments aren’t just rough sex disguised. They’re unsatisfying, always leaving Wooseok unfulfilled in some way. Seungwoo doesn’t use the term punishment lightly. Everything else is a reward. Getting to fill himself with Seungwoo’s cock—he can’t think of a better reward than that.
But Wooseok is only so patient, and with his head so dizzy from arousal, he’s almost afraid he’ll pass out before Seungwoo gets inside him. He lurches forward, fitting his mouth over Seungwoo’s and relishing in the way Seungwoo jerks in surprise. But he settles into the kiss quickly, as usual, pulling a low moan from Wooseok’s throat.
“Soon,” Seungwoo reassures him. His hand moves from above Wooseok’s pants to under, and nothing could’ve prepared him for how it feels to have Seungwoo’s hands on his bare skin, so close to his hole. He can feel each one of Seungwoo’s fingers individually, pressing hard against him, more than tight enough to leave marks. He wonders if Seungwoo even knows he’s doing it.
Peeling his clothes off, Seungwoo throws them aside before doing the same to Wooseok. Wooseok doesn’t normally mind fucking with them on, but he knows Seungwoo must feel the same way as him. He doesn’t want anything in between them.
Seungwoo’s cock swipes along his hole, still wet with Wooseok’s spit. He knows Seungwoo can’t push in, not like this, but he rocks back onto him anyways. Just the image has his heart racing.
“You’re really only good for fucking like this,” Seungwoo says, more with endearment than judgment. “You can’t think about anything but cock, hm?”
“Y—Yes,” Wooseok agrees shakily. “Just—want you inside me.” His eyes flutter shut as he hears Seungwoo grab the bottle of lube on the counter. He doesn’t need to open them to know Seungwoo generously covers his fingers with lube, because a moment later, there’s one prodding against his hole. Wooseok sits up slightly to allow for more room, and Seungwoo’s finger slips in with only a little resistance.
Seungwoo’s finger goes in deeper, pushing in deeper and deeper until his knuckle is pressed to Wooseok’s ass. Wooseok hides his face against Seungwoo’s shoulder as he stretches him open. One finger, then two, spreading him open wide enough to take Seungwoo’s cock. It’s so much and yet it doesn’t feel like enough. Wooseok rides his fingers as best as he can, trying to stutter out his name but only really getting halfway each time.
By the time Seungwoo adds a third finger, Wooseok is leaking pathetically all over his own stomach. Seungwoo twists his fingers, suddenly picking up the pace, and Wooseok can almost, almost imagine what it’ll be like when Seungwoo fucks him proper. He urges Wooseok open, pulling out and then shoving his fingers back in. Tears prick his eyes because it hurts, but the kind of hurt that makes him melt. Wooseok can’t do anything but clench down in feeble protest when he pulls out his fingers all at once.
“Fuck,” Seongwoo swears abruptly, moving to grab the bottle of lube again. “You’re so pretty, kitten. You’re so good. Staying still while I get you ready for me.” He holds Wooseok’s ass in one hand and uses his fingers to press more lube against Wooseok’s hole; some of it drips onto his thighs, and the cool sensation sends a lightning-sharp shiver down his spine.
“Going to fill you up so well,” Seungwoo promises. “Our pretty little pet.” Wooseok is lost in the squelch of the lube and his rough voice until he sees Seongwoo reach for the table again.
“Bare,” Wooseok begs suddenly. Seungwoo raises a brow at him and Wooseok swallows his pride to continue, “Please, h—Seungwoo, it’s been so long. Please. I just need to feel you.”
Seungwoo stares him down for a moment and Wooseok stares back, even if his first instinct is to look away. Eventually, Seungwoo relents silently, leaving the condom on the table.
“Brace yourself,” Seungwoo says as a warning, but Wooseok pants in anticipation rather than any real pain. The tip of his cock breaches Wooseok first, and then the rest of him, inch by inch until Seungwoo is seated completely inside him. It’s so tight, even Wooseok can feel it; Seungwoo’s cock splits him open even with his preparation, and Wooseok makes a garbled, pathetic noise of pleasure. He presses relentlessly against Wooseok’s prostate, the sensation so blinding Seungwoo has to hold him so he doesn’t fall right over.
“Tell me how you feel, kitten,” Seungwoo demands breathlessly. Wooseok’s mind is reeling with fuck me fuck me fuck me and Seungwoo has to repeat himself, the words fanning across Wooseok’s neck, for him to truly register the question.
“I love this,” Wooseok says without thinking. He almost says something else, which he’s sure Seungwoo knows well by now, but he doesn’t have the brain capacity to think about how many times he’s almost screwed that up. “I love this, feels so—so good, hyung. It feels so good.”
Seungwoo smiles against his skin, pressing kisses over his jaw, tilting his head back until he’s satisfied enough to kiss him on the mouth.
“Our little whore, always open and ready to be taken. You love to talk, but you’re always so pliant. Just waiting for someone to fill you up and call you names, hm?”
“Yes,” Wooseok agrees without hesitation, throat suddenly closing up. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, with his hands or body or anything as Seungwoo fills him up in every way possible. He’s so impossibly full, and Seungwoo’s voice is so reassuring next to him; the combination makes him cry out as Seungwoo shushes him, turning him over so his back is on the couch.
Seungwoo rocks into him slowly, never fully pulling out, and Wooseok is thankful for it. He sniffles against Seungwoo’s shoulder, clutching at his back and trying to make sense of all the feelings in his head and body. He tries to cover his mouth but Seungwoo intercepts his hand, bringing it to his lips to press kisses to each digit. Wooseok watches him in a daze, each slide of Seungwoo’s hips spreading his legs more and more. His cock faces the open air, leaking incessently still. He’s been on the brink all night from Seungwoo’s words alone, and now this; spread out completely underneath Seungwoo’s large body, being used so perfectly.
“Hyung,” Wooseok cries. Seungwoo keeps shoving into him, not letting up even as Wooseok’s toes begin to curl and his arms begin to shake from the force of his thrusts.
“Seungwoo,” Seungwoo corrects, nearly growling. He pushes Wooseok’s head back to bite his jaw. Wooseok stares unfocused at the ceiling for a second before he becomes completely overwhelmed again.
“It’s okay,” Seungwoo hushes him with his lips, barely missing Wooseok’s own. “I got you, kitten. You feel so good for me, too. So—tight and perfect,” Seungwoo ends with a moan, and Wooseok suddenly clamps his thighs around Seungwoo’s hips, whining.
“I can’t,” Wooseok whispers. “S—Seungwoo, I can’t.” Seungwoo towers over him, their noses bumping together as Seungwoo’s movements get sloppier and less precise. Wooseok keeps gasping, unfaltering even as Seungwoo can’t take it anymore. He keeps thrusting, pushing his own cum into Wooseok’s hole as he reaches his climax and Wooseok can’t help the tears he lets out.
Seungwoo pulls out in one thrust and Wooseok kicks his legs in protest, practically about to scream, until Seungwoo puts his mouth over Wooseok’s hole. He laps at the cum escaping from his hole, one finger holding it open as every muscle in Wooseok’s body tenses. It drips over his chin and Wooseok’s thighs cage Seungwoo’s head of their own accord. He doesn’t know what pushes him over the edge—the overstimulation, the friction, or just Seungwoo himself—but he cums with a broken sob, making a mess all over Seungwoo’s face. Seungwoo’s hair covers most of his eyes, but Wooseok can still see his tongue swipe out to lick Wooseok’s cum off his lips.
Wooseok paws at his shoulders until Seungwoo climbs back up the couch to kiss him. He doesn’t care that there’s cum on Seungwoo’s face, that he can taste it on Seungwoo’s tongue. He just goes lax in his protective hold, letting Seungwoo’s steady calm wash over him.
“Good boy,” Seungwoo murmurs, no louder than a pin dropping. “There we go.”
They stay there lying on the couch until Wooseok feels like he can finally breathe properly. His whole face is a mess with tears and sweat, but so is Seungwoo’s. At least he still looks beautiful. Wooseok doesn’t doubt he looks like a mess.
“Thank you,” Wooseok says. His eyes are drooping but he doesn’t want to fall asleep here, both because he doesn’t want to wake up sticky and also because he wants to sleep in Seungwoo’s bed instead.
“Happy now, kitten?” Seungwoo asks.
“Mm.” Wooseok smiles and Seungwoo practically beams in response.
It takes at least another twenty minutes for Seungwoo to coax Wooseok off the couch. His legs feel like jelly and he’s afraid to take a step before Seungwoo reassures him that he’ll catch him if he falls. He doesn’t have the energy to shower, but they fetch a few towels and wipe themselves passably clean before Wooseok demands Seungwoo come to bed.
“So needy,” Seungwoo kisses him, “so sleepy,” another, “so pretty.” Wooseok giggles, blissful between Seungwoo’s arms around him and his expensive sheets. “I missed you so much.”
“Me too. I mean, I missed you too.” His words are getting more and more slurred as he feels himself falling asleep. “Don’t get out of bed before 11 or I’ll be mad.”
Seungwoo snorts. “I don’t know if I can make that promise.”
“Try,” Wooseok insists, stretching out his tired limbs one last time before he curls up, every part of his body touching Seungwoo’s.
“Goodnight, Wooseokie.” Wooseok can virtually feel Seungwoo roll his eyes.
“Goodnight, Seungwoo.” The slap on the ass Seungwoo gives him isn’t hard enough to hurt, but it’s hard enough to make him laugh and turn away. Seungwoo follows him, caging Wooseok’s waist in his arms. “Seungwoo hyung,” he corrects, scowling into the pitch black of Seungwoo’s room. “You were the one who told me to call you that!”
“We’re not fucking anymore, I’m not letting you call me whatever you want normally. That’s a little too much power for you.” Seungwoo pulls Wooseok again, as close as possible, Wooseok’s back flush against his broad chest. “Sweet dreams.” His lashes flutter along Wooseok’s nape.
Wooseok’s dreams have been sweet for two years straight—and that night is no exception.
(The next day, Wooseok wakes up to Hangyul’s incoherent shouting from outside the bedroom door. All he catches is I’m home, but Wooseok gets up early for no man, especially on Sundays; even after Seungwoo slips out of bed to make them breakfast.
“Why are you here?” Wooseok asks when he finally gets up, at 11 AM, as promised. Seungwoo swoops in to kiss his cheek before Hangyul does the same, far more sluggishly. He offers Wooseok his coffee and Wooseok blows him a kiss.
“I dunno,” Hangyul offers. Wooseok just blinks at him. “Kinda sucks to go back to an empty place after being away for so long, I guess. I missed you guys too, you know.” He says it casually, but Wooseok knows what he means all too well.
“Well, Seungwoo hyung isn’t going to give you the time of day while he’s working. You can come home with me. I’m going back anyways.”
“You’re so transparent,” Seungwoo quips from where he’s frying more bacon.
“Excuse me? I’m just extremely generous. I’m the most generous person either of you have ever met. Besides, you love it.” Wooseok pouts.
“That we do,” Seungwoo agrees. Hangyul kisses his other cheek, and while there’s lots of things Wooseok wants to say and do still, he knows well that they have lots of time. The rest of their lives, in fact; and though the stress of their work sometimes leaves him alone and exhausted, these moments make it more than worth it.)