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Past.
When the call comes in, they all come to a stop. The room swims in a long, stunned silence as the five of them attempt making sense of what they’ve heard.
“What?” Seungcheol has a cocktail in one hand, his tie is undone around his neck. He’s a far cry from the man he usually portrays himself as, but the smile he’d let himself wear is slipping off of his face with every second Soonyoung stands silent in the doorway.
“Jeonghan he--” Soonyoung looks down at the phone in his hand, then back up at Seungcheol.”He’s been detained.”
Seungcheol lets the glass fall from his hand. The sound it makes when it shatters on the marble floor is loud in the quiet room. There’s fury brewing in his chest, a dangerous blackness taking over his mind. The thought of Jeonghan, vulnerable and small, in the clutches of the police that want him dead is almost too much to bear.
He’s surprised at their blatant cowardice. They don’t have the guts to come for Seungcheol or his father, so they’ve swooped in and preyed on Jeonghan when they thought Seungcheol wouldn’t find out, wouldn’t be able to protect him. Little did they know.
He rises from his chair and throws Jihoon a quick look.
“Get the plane ready.”
He comes into the police station like a storm. Soonyoung and Jihoon just a step behind him, ready to hold him back when the anger inevitably makes him act rashly.
It seems the Captain had been expecting him, because he's there, despite the late hour, with the same punchable face that Seungcheol has bribed countless times before.
"Mr Ch--"
"Where the fuck is he?" Seungcheol snarls.
"He's with an officer--" Captain Oh has sweat on his brow and stubble along his jaw. Seungcheol would bet he’s been called in from home.
"Bring him here."
"Mr Choi if you'd let me explain-"
"What is there to explain?" Seungcheol can't bring himself to put up with niceties and pleasantries. He knows he can look dangerous if he wants to, despite his doe eyes and subdued manner, and that’s what he does now. Shoulders squared, jaw tense, he makes sure every bit of power he has is on display. If it’s for Jeonghan, the act of callousness and cruelty comes easy to him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a few of the Officers in the station scurry away to the back, out of sight.”You hear that I’m out of town so you decide to go after some easy prey? You’d do good to remember whose money paid for that penthouse flat you and your wife live in.”
“Mr Choi, please don’t-” the Captain has gone red in the face, desperately looking around himself for anyone who might have overheard.”Your- You- Mr Yoon Jeonghan is being questioned about a possible murder.”
Seungcheol’s rage halts at Captain Oh’s stuttered sentence. He doesn’t understand what it means, and he wonders if the Captain is lying to him. It sounds laughable, the very idea that his angel would be involved in such a thing. Jeonghan is delicate and sweet, and he hasn’t been directly involved in anything illegal since Seungcheol scooped him up from Jihoon’s basement floor.
“A murder?” Soonyoung questions from his left, voice sceptic.
“At 20.34 a call came in from emergency personnel, alerting us to the death of Chae Hoyoung at your residence, Mr Choi.” Captain Oh is still red-faced and sweating, but it seems talking about his job gives him back some of the composure he’d lost.”The cause of death is yet to be confirmed, but preliminary findings point to him being poisoned.
“Chae Hoyoung, as in the politician?” Soonyoung’s voice is still thick with scepticism. On Seungcheol’s other side, Jihoon tenses for a split second.
Seungcheol couldn’t say he was sad to hear of the politician’s death. He’d been a thorn in all of their sides for months now, implementing several policies that made it harder and harder for them to operate uninterrupted. Still, the very idea that Jeonghan would ever be capable of orchestrating such a thing is ridiculous.
Seungcheol scoffs, and when he speaks it’s through his teeth.
“And you think Jeonghannie did it?”
“There were only three other people in the apartment at the time,” Captain Oh asserts.”Two of the victim’s bodyguards, and Yoon Jeonghan. The evidence speaks for itself, Mr Choi.”
“I don’t care what your evidence says, I’m taking him home.” He advances on the Captain with slow, heavy steps, until there’s only a couple of meters between them.”So you’d do best to bring him here.”
“Mr Choi,” the Captain starts, squaring his shoulders.”You cannot come barging into my station and demanding I do as you please.”
“Does your wife know where you go on Thursday nights?” Jihoon speaking up startles the Captain, making him swivel his head to him with wide eyes.”Because if not, I’m sure she’d be happy to see the pictures we have of you and your favourite of the girls, her stage name is Daisy, I think?”
Captain Oh stands sputtering for a few awkward seconds, looking between the three of them with increasing indignation.
“Well, Captain?” Seungcheol huffs out, finally growing impatient.
The Captain’s jaw snaps shut, and at once his bafflement is replaced with clear displeasure. He throws each of them a cold, angry look, before he turns to the nearest wall and reaches for the phone hanging there.
”Yoon Jeonghan is to be released from custody. Bring him here at once.” He grumbles into the receiver, barely waiting before he slams it back in its place.
“He’ll be here soon.”
“We appreciate your cooperation, Captain.” Seungcheol has to hold back a laugh at the way the Captain’s eye twitches in anger at Soonyoung’s words.
The wait for Jeonghan to arrive is less than two minutes, but every second is more painful than the last. Seungcheol’s body is heavy with energy, the need to have Jeonghan close, safe, making the blood rush in his ears.
When Jeonghan finally appears around the corner, Seungcheol’s first thought is to deliver a swift punch to Captain Oh’s nose. His body jerks toward the Captain in reflex, but he’s stopped by Soonyoung’s hand on his bicep, his grip tight in warning.
Jeonghan looks terrible. He’s barely dressed, only wearing a pyjama shirt that hangs off of him and a pair of too big slippers, neither of which are items Seungcheol recognises. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and deep bags under his eyes. He’s visibly exhausted, stumbling across the room until he’s close enough to bury himself in Seungcheol’s chest, curling into him with his arms tucked in between them.
“I’ve got you, angel,” Seungcheol soothes as he wraps his arms around him. His anger slowly diminishes with every passing second, Jeonghan’s presence having a soothing effect on him even now.”I’m taking you home, you hear me, baby?”
All he gets in response is a barely there nod.
“These aren’t his clothes.” He snaps at Captain Oh, the man jumping at suddenly being addressed.
“His clothes are evidence.” The Captain’s voice is strained once more.”Your apartment is undergoing forensic investigation, you won’t be allowed inside until it has been completed.”
Seungcheol doesn’t deign his words with a response, instead he simply reaches his arms around Jeonghan until he can pick him up. Jeonghan goes easily, slipping his arms around his throat and tucking his face into the side of his neck. He’s shaking, his skin cold, likely from the AC being set too high in whatever room he’d been kept in. Seungcheol’s chest constricts in anger. When he feels Jeonghan’s cold nose press into his throat, he’s thrown back to their first meeting. He tightens his grip around him.
Jihoon and Soonyoung follow him soundlessly when he starts toward the door, behind them, the Captain clears his throat.
“We’re going to need to talk to you as well, Mr Choi.”
Seungcheol snorts, amused. They both know the likelihood of Seungcheol being interviewed is virtually nonexistent, but the Captain’s sense of pretense is entertaining.
“I’m looking forward to it.” He calls over his shoulder.”Have a good night, Captain Oh.”
They make it to the car in silence, Jeonghan adamantly refusing to look up from Seungcheol’s neck even when Jihoon starts gently talking to him. It's not until they’re in the car, driving away from the station that he acknowledges their presence.
“I’m sorry you had to cut your trip short.” His voice is low and hoarse, and when he looks at them with puffy eyes and pouty lips, he looks as small as he ever has.
“Don’t worry about that, hyungie!” Soonyoung assures him from the passenger seat.”We weren’t getting anywhere in negotiating anyway!”
“Still,” his voice is barely above a mumble, and he’s fiddling with Seungcheol’s hand in his lap.”This must be the last thing you’d want to come back to.”
“What happened, Jeonghannie?” He hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly, but his need to know is too great. He doesn’t know how Chae Hoyoung had died, but if his Jeonghannie had been present, he’s determined to know all the details. If there’s even the hint of a chance that Jeonghan’s life was under threat, Seungcheol won’t relax until the ones responsible are held accountable. Blood and murder still has him a bit squeamish, but if it’s for Jeonghan he can stomach it.
“He just showed up.” His angel’s fiddling grows more insistent, fingers stroking over Seungcheol’s knuckles over and over again.”I didn’t know how to make him leave, so I let him in. He- he wanted a drink so I-I gave him one and then-”
As he speaks, his shoulders start shaking, voice growing wetter and wetter with each word. Seungcheol takes hold of his hand, putting an end to his nervous fiddling, and shushes him softly.
“He seemed to be in so much pain.” It’s barely more than a soft whisper.
“Did-” Soonyoung breaks himself off, clears his throat, and when he speaks again his voice is a poor excuse for nonchalance.”Did you do it, Jeonghannie-hyung?”
Jeonghan shakes his head violently, shoulders rising to his ears as he hunches, cowering away from them all.
“No, I promise, I promise I don’t know what happened. He just started choking! You have to believe me-” He keeps rambling, voice growing more panicked with each word. Seungcheol throws Soonyoung a stern look, before undoing his seatbelt and scooting over to Jeonghan, gathering him in his arms.
“Shh, baby. We know you didn’t have anything to do with it.” He soothes, rocking them back and forth.”No one’s mad at you, and no one blames you.”
Jeonghan clings to him, nails digging into his skin. It hurts, but he doesn’t say a word, simply lets Jeonghan seek his comfort however he needs it.
“You’re as innocent as fresh snow, right, angel?” He says with a teasing lilt to his voice. From the front seat, he can hear Jihoon snort, no doubt amused.
Jeonghan himself nods and reaches up to wipe his nose with a soft, little laugh. He takes a few more minutes to compose himself, and when he sits up out of his embrace, Seungcheol’s heart skips at the attentive, curious look he throws out the window.
“Where are we going?”
“The Plaza,” Jihoon calls from the driver’s seat. Seungcheol watches him throw them a little smirk in the rearview mirror.”The honeymoon suite is waiting for you.”
“What would I do without you, Jihoonie?” Jeonghan asks him with an adorable sniffle.
Jihoon gets a conspirating look on his face, and Seungcheol doesn’t doubt he’s harbouring secrets neither he nor Jeonghan could ever guess. Seungcheol rolls his eyes fondly at the two of them and presses a kiss to Jeonghan's head, satisfied to have him safe and sound in his arms.
Present.
It’s hot. Oppressively so. Their AC is on the highest setting, but most of its efforts are made redundant by Jeonghan’s insistence on keeping their terrace doors open. Seungcheol had fruitlessly tried to convince Jeonghan that they should stay in the villa for the summer, where the terrain offered at least the occasional cooling breeze. His arguments had fallen on deaf ears, Jeonghan forcing them back into the city for what he’d, many years ago, dubbed ‘the season’.
Seungcheol would never understand Jeonghan’s love for the oppressive summer heat and the less than credible events it brought with it. Even when he’d masqueraded innocence he’d gotten a light in his eyes speaking of it. He adored it. The way the city empties out, with people fleeing the summer heat and dust of the city, and the opportunities for people on their side of the law blossom. Garden parties, dinners, luncheons, for a few months each year, Seungcheol and his kind like to pretend it’s all above board.
It’s not, of course, but the act is part of the fun, Jeonghan insists.
“We should bring a bottle of champagne, as a ‘thank you’ for the invitation.” Jeonghan walks into the room with the same elegance he always embodies, forcing Seungcheol to pause whatever he was doing momentarily, just to take him in. Seungcheol hadn’t asked him to, but a few weeks ago Jeonghan had called for a beautician, and when they went to bed that night Seungcheol hadn’t been able to stop running his palms over the smoothness of his legs. It had turned out to be a double edged sword, because Jeonghan hadn’t worn anything but shorts since. It was unbelievably distracting.
“Hmm.” Seungcheol tears his gaze from the way the muscles in Jeonghan’s thighs flex as he walks across the living room. They’re invited to a garden party in the outskirts of the city, and while Seungcheol doesn’t know who’s hosting (Jeonghan had briefly mentioned the invitation a few weeks ago, but Seungcheol was three fingers deep into him and mind far too occupied with the way his skin looked in the led lights of the private club room to actually pay attention), he knows that’s going to be tedious and dull. For someone who hated being talked down to, Jeonghan sure did love playing dumb at these events. It didn’t come as easy to him now as it did before, Seungcheol can tell that much, but nonetheless he’s impressed by Jeonghan’s ability to shed his cunning and sharpness in favour of the softness and sweetness of his angelic persona.
Focusing his attention on the TV again, he sees a familiar face on display.
“Gin and tonic?” Jeonghan calls lightly from the bar across the room.
“Yeah,” Seungcheol answers distractedly, too busy watching the eulogy playing. With every solemn word from the TV a forgotten memory is pulled closer to the surface of Seungcheol’s mind.
“ Seven years after his death, Chae Hoyoung’s legacy is still alive and well. ” The formal tone of voice of the presenter is accompanied by dramatic black and white pictures of the deceased politician. Seungcheol feels his throat constrict, remembering all too well the feeling of Jeonghan in his arms, shaking from spending hours in an interrogation room.” His policies attempting to suffocate much of the illegal trade and inter-city trafficking, while now repealed, left the country’s organised criminals with a lasting cripple. ”
Seungcheol watches, fascinated by the display of sorrow for the deceased Official.
“ Despite a lengthy investigation and much speculation about the involvement of organised criminals, his death was eventually ruled an accident and no one was charged. ”
All emotion falls off Seungcheol’s face at the same time he loses his breath. It dawns on him, at that moment. Retrospectively, it seems obvious, all signs pointing to the same conclusion, it was simply Seungcheol’s ignorance keeping him from seeing the truth for all these years.
He turns to Jeonghan, eyes wide and heart pounding.
“You killed him.”
“Of course I did,” Jeonghan says as if it was obvious, not even looking up from where he’s pouring tonic water into their glasses. When Seungcheol doesn’t immediately respond, he puts the bottle back down on the bar.”You hadn’t figured it out yet?”
“No, I hadn’t.” He sputters. Jeonghan gives him a look, as if he was an even bigger idiot than he’d thought for not figuring it out. Seungcheol knows he is, but he doesn’t let the indignation at the realisation keep him from asking questions.“How? Why?”
Jeonghan’s face turns guarded at the questions, and he starts up with the drinks again, avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze.
“You always complained about the policies he implemented.” Seungcheol watches as Jeonghan’s delicate hands swiftly cut up lime pieces and drop them in the glass for adornment.”You were so stressed.”
His tone is nonchalant, but Seungcheol sees right through him. Warmth spreads in his chest as he looks at him. The way the heat has flushed his cheeks, the way his blonde hair has curled slightly around his chin from the moist air. In the history of the world, Seungcheol is certain no one has ever looked more adorable while wiping down a bar counter. He gets up from his seat on the couch and wanders over to where Jeonghan is.
“Angel,” he coos.”You committed murder because I was stressed?”
Jeonghan throws down the cloth in his hand and gives Seungcheol a petulant look.
“Stop that!” Jeonghan protests, eyebrows adamantly furrowed.
“Baby,” he coos again, slipping behind the bar so he can catch Jeonghan in his arms. In response, Jeonghan twirls out of his reach, but Seungcheol doesn’t miss the grin that’s taking over his face.”Let me show you my gratitude!”
“I don’t want your gratitude!” Jeonghan laughs and darts away from him.”I want money!”
Picking up his pace, Seungcheol chases after him with a giggle.
“You have money, more than you know what to do with it!”
They banter back and forth for a few more minutes as they run around the lounge, Jeonghan eventually starting to climb the furniture to get out of Seungcheol’s reach. He’s finally caught when he’s standing on a side table, momentarily distracted by the plant he’s just knocked over to see Seungcheol approach.
He shrieks when Seungcheol grabs him and pulls him down onto his shoulder.“Put me down!”
“Make me, angel.”
Jeonghan’s fists hammering down on his back are little more than an inconvenience, and the knowledge that Jeonghan is holding back furthers his delight.
“I’ve never met anyone who has murder as their love language before,” he muses as he walks across the room, easily adjusting Jeonghan on his shoulder when he starts squirming.
“Stop teasing me.” Jeonghan bites out, making another attempt at crawling out of his hold.
“I’m not teasing you, baby, I’d never dream of doing such a thing.” At this point he’s made it back to the couch, and it seems Jeonghan has resigned himself to being carried around, because he doesn’t protest or squirm when Seungcheol falls back against the cushions, adjusting Jeonghan until he’s on his lap.”I’m merely showing you my appreciation and love.”
Jeonghan hums, face blank and unresponsive. Seungcheol can’t help himself and leans forward for a kiss. Jeonghan responds immediately, fingers burying in the unruly curls on his head.
As much as he’d been joking around, he really did mean that he was showing his appreciation. It was hard not to let the doubts get to him, to think that Jeonghan had always pretended and kept Seungcheol around for nothing more than convenience and good dick. Getting a confirmation like this was gratifying. In the middle of working toward his own future, Jeonghan had put it all at risk to do something for Seungcheol.
Breaking the kiss to nose up and down Jeonghan’s jaw, Seungcheol asks, “But really, how did you do it?”
“It was easy,” Jeonghan sighs, nails massaging Seungcheol’s scalp. Tugging softly, he gets Seungcheol to lean back enough so he can look him in the eye.”Jihoonie helped me set it up.”
“There really is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.” He scoffs, amused.”How did you know Chae would come to our apartment?”
Jeonghan shrugs, playing at being coy.“Him and your father had been at each other for months, it was only a matter of time until he’d show up to try and win you over. It was sheer luck that it happened when you weren’t home.”
As he speaks, Jeonghan leans down to start pressing kisses up and down his throat between his words. Seungcheol sinks deeper into the couch with a sigh, eyes slipping shut.
“I couldn’t let him use your distaste for your father to turn you good, it would mess up everything.”
Jeonghan is still pressing kisses to his neck, and with every touch of his lips Seungcheol feels himself grow hotter. Jeonghan is a pleasant weight on his lap, warm and familiar. It’s habit more than anything that makes him run his hands up and down his sides, keeping a firm grip.
“When he showed up at the door I invited him in,” he whispers into his ear, sending shivers down Seungcheol’s spine.“Batted my eyelashes a little, played a little dumb, then I offered him a drink.”
Seungcheol can easily imagine what it must have been like. Jeonghan, barely clad with his wide eyes and soft smile, had made wrapping men around his finger into a curated artform. Chae Hoyoung didn’t stand a chance.
A part of him wishes he could have seen it. Seen Jeonghan, soft and sweet and deceptively innocent, pulling the poor man in only to deliver him his death. The thought has his stomach twisting and his blood going south.
“How’d you get the poison into the drink without him noticing?”
“Silly Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan coos, nosing behind his ear. “The poison wasn’t in the whiskey.”
“Then where?”
“In the glass, of course.”
Seungcheol’s mind is getting foggier by the minute, making it difficult for him to understand what Jeonghan is implying.
“What?” He asks dumbly. Jeonghan kisses him, hard and long, and before he pulls away he spends an agonising and wonderful thirty seconds sucking on his upper lip. Seungcheol is in heaven. He’s warm and content, getting harder by the second, but he forces himself to listen to what Jeonghan is saying.
“Do you remember the glasses you got on your birthday that year? We opened them together and decided to save them for a special occasion. They had a thin gold band along the rim.” They kiss once more. Seungcheol’s head is swimming.”The poison was in the gold.”
“How did you come up with that?”
“Saw it on TV.”
“That’s why they didn’t think it was you.” Seungcheol is baffled, and impressed.”Because the glasses were a gift. They thought I was the intended target, and that’s why it was ruled an accident.”
Jeonghan gives a giggle, burying his nose in Seungcheol’s cheek. He’s giddy with excitement, and Seungcheol would find it adorable if he wasn’t so turned on by the thought of Jeonghan’s clever scheme.
“Yeah!” Jeonghan agrees, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Those bastards never told me any of this.” His mind clears just enough for the realisation to hit and he frowns.”They thought someone was after me but never told me about it.”
“They probably thought if they kept it from you whoever it was would finish the job.” Jeonghan’s eyes are hooded but alert, and Seungcheol watches transfixed as he bites his lip.”Little did they know.”
“Fuck you’re hot.” Seungcheol’s grip on Jeonghan tightens and he pulls him higher up on his lap, the desire to be as close as possible taking over.
Jeonghan shifts on his lap, and Seungcheol can tell exactly when he feels how hard he is, because he stills mid-movement.
“Seungcheollie,” he coos, a wide, elated grin on his face,”has me talking about murder gotten you hard?”
As he speaks, he starts slowly swiveling his hips. It’s torturous and slow, but it’s enough to have Seungcheol groaning.
“You’re a conniving little bitch.” he tries to make his voice controlled, harsh, but it just comes out strained. He takes hold of Jeonghan’s hips and grinds up, pleased when Jeonghan’s breath stutters.”And you’d risk prison just to ease my stress, what man wouldn’t think that’s hot?”
The laugh Jeonghan lets out is breathless and self-satisfied, Seungcheol loves it and rewards him by moving his hands down to cup his ass.
“As if you’d let me go to prison,” Jeonghan sighs out, meeting his hips in a pleasant rhythm.”My big, loyal puppy would never let anything happen to me.”
Seungcheol groans and feels his face heat up, both at the confession and the thought of being Jeonghan’s puppy. It feels raunchy and scandalous, but he loves it. He’d do anything Jeonghan asked of him, follows him obediently and happily. It’s an apt description, and combined with the word love , it’s enough to have him aching in his underwear.
“Angel,” he moans out, long, reverent. The sound comes from deep within his chest, a symbol of a kind of pleasure only Jeonghan can bring him.
”You like it when I call you ‘puppy’, Cheollie?” It doesn’t escape Seungcheol how breathless Jeonghan sounds, or the way the speed of his hips is increasing. His eyes slip shut and he leans forward to catch soft lips against his own, putting all his enthusiasm and arousal into the kiss. He feels Jeonghan tremble in his arms, breath falling out through his nose when Seungcheol licks behind his teeth. It’s a stark contrast to his self-satisfied grinning earlier, so Seungcheol isn’t surprised when his body jumps back into gear. His hands turn frantic as they kiss, scrambling down their bodies until he reaches the front of Seungcheol’s shorts. He doesn’t hesitate or linger, simply undoes the button and pushes fabric to the side until he reaches what he’s after.
Having Jeonghan’s hand around him forces Seungcheol to break the kiss, all so he can let his head fall back against and release a loud groan.
Jeonghan works his hand over him with practiced easy, delicate fingers traveling familiar paths up and down his dick. It’s good, heavenly even, and for a few long, blessed minutes Seungcheol simply basks in the feeling.
“You’re so handsome, Seungcheollie.” Jeonghan pulls him from his blissed out state with his soft whisper of praise, no doubt seeking his attention.”So good to me.”
He wants to give a proper response, to express his own adoring devotion, but all he can muster is a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He lifts his head from the couch and leans forward so he can nose up and down Jeonghan’s jawline, his own hand coming down to between Jeonghan’s legs, rubbing at his hardness.
“Make me feel good, Cheollie,” Jeonghan urges him softly, hips rocking back and forth.’,”I want us to come together.”
Seungcheol, as always, does as told. Pushing the waistband of Jeonghan’s shorts out of the way, he takes hold of both of them. With determination, spurred on by the lovely little moan Jeonghan lets out, he jerks them both off. As he does it, Jeonghan moans out soft words of praise and delight, making sure Seungcheol knows just how much he likes it. Seungcheol, words eluding him, pushes Jeonghan’s shirt up his torso and attaches his lips to his nipples.
“Ah-h,” Jeonghan moans, suddenly much louder, more desperate. It takes only a few more strokes to have him over the edge, Seungcheol’s name on his lips and his fingers buried deep in his hair.
Seungcheol’s mind is swimming in arousal, Jeonghan’s lovely voice loud in his ears. He doesn’t have it in him to stop when Jeonghan is done, so he simply keeps jerking them off, hand working over their dicks, using Jeonghan’s come to make the glide smoother.
“Cheollie, Cheollie, Cheollie,” Jeonghan protests, one hand coming down to hold his wrist.”Too much.”
Grumbling, Seungcheol kisses his neck in apology.
“Here,” Jeonghan’s voice is soft and soothing as he pushes Seungcheol’s hand away,”let me.”
Jeonghan brings their foreheads close together, keeping their eyes locked as he strokes him. Already a goner, it isn’t long before he comes. With a moan and his hands held tightly around Jeonghan’s waist, Seungcheol reaches his high.
They sit, foreheads pressed together, hands sticky from their intimacy, for a few long, pleasant minutes after. Jeonghan is the one to move first, pulling away from Seungcheol with tender, sleepy eyes.
“We’re messy.” He states, clearly displeased.”We should have our drinks in the bath.”
Seungcheol had completely forgotten Jeonghan has been making drinks.
“Won’t we be late for the party?” He croaks out.
“Fuck the party.” Jeonghan says with conviction, clean hand fiddling with Seungcheol’s hair.”I want to order in and then fuck on the dinner table.”
His words draw a fond laugh out of Seungcheol.
“How could I say no to that, angel?”
Later, half submerged in the bath, bubbles Jeonghan had only pretended to not want all around them, Seungcheol asks a question that has been on his mind ever since he found out about Jeonghan’s little stunt.
“Why didn’t you just order a hit on him?” The question echoes in their spacious bathroom, dulled only by the way his lips are pressed to Jeonghan’s shoulder.
“I like a challenge,” is Jeonghan’s easy response, complemented by a simple shrug. It’s exactly the kind of answer Seungcheol should have expected.”Besides, I liked doing it myself.”
Seungcheol’s dick gives a twitch at that, and he’s becoming uncomfortably aware of the fact that this is something he’ll have to unpack later.
“Of course,” he resolves to simply accept this for what it is, and move on. Stroking his hands over the soft, wet skin of his lover’s tummy, he changes the subject.”What would you like for dinner, baby?”