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nectar (the moon within my heart)

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Yunho doesn’t remember whose idea it was in the first place; all he knows is that it was a decision fueled by ridiculous amounts of store-bought cocktails and tequila shots between the three of them, in between munches of what San insists is a charcuterie board, but it’s more of a mixed chopped mess of leftovers from the communal kitchen of their floor.  

 

“Give me my phone back,” Yunho sighs, extending his arm but making no effort to actually stop Wooyoung from messing around. The aftertaste of the strong drinks are making him too woozy to complain. 

 

“You have an entire separate folder for dating apps, surely there’s no harm in creating another profile,” San reasons, helping himself to some more cheese and crackers. “Oh, choose this one, he looks very sexy in that one.” 

 

Yunho sighs, slumping against the bed - his friends are feeling much more energetic than he is, so he’ll let them play around with his personal information and social media presence. That seems like a good idea. 

 

“Okay,” Wooyoung speaks after finally selecting a few pictures for Yunho’s display profile, sipping some more from his bottled mojito, “Help me fill these in. Interested in…” 

 

“Anyone.” 

 

“No gender specification,” his friend mumbles, thumbing away on his phone, “Age, okay. Height, okay. Weight?” 

 

“You really think I can remember that right now?” 

 

“These are so specific,” Jongho furrows his brows, pouting, “I use Pulse and they never ask for that kind of stuff.” 

 

“That’s different, this app operates more like a means for a transaction,” Wooyoung explains, shooing him with his hand. “Occupation?” 

 

“Huh? Student of course,” Yunho yawns. San recently got him these cute LED lights that change color and he spent one whole afternoon taping them all around his walls - the dim purple light they’re emanating right now is slowly lulling him to sleep, and his best friends’ soft chatter sounds more and more like a pleasant lullaby. 

 

“Part-time jobs? Internships?” 

 

“Uh…” Yunho starts, “Wait, what? Are you really supposed to include everything in your bio? That seems too much…” 

 

“How are you supposed to get matched with someone who will fulfill your financial needs?” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho finally jumps from the bed, landing messily on top of Wooyoung on the carpet and wrestling him, holding down his legs with his own thighs in an attempt to grab his phone from his best friend’s little gremlin hands, “What’s Nectar? ” he asks, baffled as he stares at the half-completed information of his profile. 

 

“A dating app,” San says nonchalantly. 

 

“A sugar-daddy dating app,” Jongho clarifies, sparing Yunho from his confusion. 

 

“Hey, it’s not limited to just sugar daddies,” Wooyoung defends himself, “You can find all sorts of people there who are rich and want to financially help someone for something in exchange.” 

 

Yunho’s eyes scan the information that Wooyoung has already put in - name, height, weight, occupation, a few pictures from his camera roll that are thankfully decent and not overly sexual. All that’s left are the ‘Interests’ and ‘Links’ boxes. The design of the app is admittedly very sleek, with beautiful graphics in deep colors in dark mode and golden details. This could have very well looked gaudy at best, but the appearance of the application makes Yunho stop wrestling Wooyoung and slump back on the floor, phone in hand. 

 

“So, what? You match with someone and they pay you each time you have sex?” 

 

“Who said you have to have sex?” says Wooyoung, “Not everyone wants sex. Some people are looking for simple companionship, like coffee dates and stuff. Or a gym partner. Or you might never even have to meet them, just text or send pictures. You customize your interests and then the algorithm shows you profiles who are looking for similar conditions to yours.” 

 

“Who would pay for a gym partner?” Yunho grimaces. “Like, generally speaking, why would someone hand their money out to strangers?” 

 

“I don’t know, maybe they’re consumed by capitalistic guilt from being rich,” Wooyoung reasons. 

 

“What’s the name of the app?” Jongho mutters, already pulling out his phone, “I’m a little short on cash this month for rent.” 

 

“Please tell me you’re gonna send feet pics to someone,” San asks, dissolving in hysterics from his own joke. 

 

While Jongho affectionately keeps San in a chokehold in the background, Wooyoung approaches him, looping his arms around Yunho from the back and pushing his face into the crook of his neck, “We can delete it, y’know,” his friend murmurs, “Don’t get anxious about it.” 

 

Yunho doesn’t respond immediately, scrolling up and down his profile, “How did you even find out about this?” 

 

“Well, Yubin made a profile last month because a friend of a friend of hers recommended the app - it’s supposed to be super safe, and the money transfering aspect is great too. She’s texting like, three people at the same time.” 

 

His eyes bulge out, “You can date multiple people at the same time?!” 

 

“I told you, it’s not necessarily dating. You don’t go into it expecting a regular relationship. If you agree with this person that you’ll be exclusive as long as your agreement lasts, that’s fair. But everyone makes their own terms and conditions.” 

 

“You know suspiciously lots of stuff about this.” 

 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “‘S not my fault, she explained everything to me. She knew I’d be worried about her, so she sat me down and talked me through it.” 

 

Yunho’s doubts begin to disappear like an early morning fog in the sun; Yubin is very independent in her own right, and Wooyoung and his friends have known her for years. Even when she and Wooyoung dated for a short while, or the few times her and Yunho had hooked up after parties in their first year of university, she always put their friendship above everything else. 

 

He moves on to the next box he’s supposed to fill in: ‘Interests’. 

 

“What’s a provider? ” he squints. 

 

“The one who gives the sugar,” Jongho explains, stroking San’s hair while the older has his head on his lap, an expression of cat-like happiness on his face. 

 

“And the receiver is the person who gets paid,” Yunho completes his sentence. 

 

“They’re using gender neutral terms, that’s cool,” San mumbles, “You’re the receiver in this case, Yunho-yah.” 

 

“Okay, this is important, are you interested in sexual relationships?” Wooyoung asks. 

 

“Uh, yeah?” Yunho replies, ears turning red instantly, “I mean-” he cannot fully explain it, but the truth is that he likes sex. A lot. He loves it. But juggling his studies and an attempt at some sort of a social life takes a toll on you after one point, and he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, which, combined with the fruity drinks he’s been consuming all night, makes his most base desires scheme together to cloud his judgement. “Like a one night stand?” 

 

“Or casual sex,” Wooyoung offers, “I’m gonna add that you’re interested in sex and you can change that whenever you want.” 

 

They spend the next few minutes finalizing Yunho’s profile - San offers one-line suggestions here and there, but he’s mostly occupied with nosing into Wooyoung’s cheek like a newborn woodland animal, whining to Jongho to get some ice-cream from the fridge. Soon enough, their friend comes back to Yunho’s dorm room and the tub of strawberry cheesecake is set on the floor, the four mismatched spoons in their respective hands. They dig into the dessert absent-mindedly, the cool air emanating from the plastic container tickling their ankles. 

 

Wooyoung presses ‘Complete’ and waits while the app’s algorithm finds similar profiles to Yunho’s interests. 

 

“Okay!” he announces once they’re back to the main screen, “First up we have this fella, 45 years old, owns a telecommunications company, interested in young men; wants to spend the weekends together at his sea-side mansion-” 

 

“How do we know he’s not just lying on his profile?” Jongho points out, suddenly fueled by the creamy ice cold dessert. 

 

“He looks creepy,” San murmurs. 

 

“He kinda does,” Yunho agrees, and watches as Wooyoung’s finger swipes up. 

 

One profile after the other, the four of them pick apart the information in each new candidate, trying to guess if they’re faking it or not. Most of the users seem older than him by more than fifteen years, and Yunho can’t help but grimace at the idea. He only becomes interested when their profile pictures look cute, but nothing’s enough to make him heart the person’s profile or hit them up in the dms. Time passes like this, until their metallic spoons hit against the empty bottom of the plastic tub and the light of his phone screen starts making him dizzy. 

 

Before he gets the chance to ask his friends to call it quits because his battery percentage is screaming at him to charge his phone, Wooyoung swipes up. 

 

“Is that a joint profile?” Jongho asks, half laughing and half genuinely curious. 

 

“Kim-Park,” San reads out, “Oh, they look-” 

 

“They’re way younger than anybody else on this app,” Wooyoung chuckles, touching the ‘see more’ option in their photos section. 

 

Their profile picture is definitely from a photoshoot - it’s in black and white, and they’re lying on the ground of some studio in casual clothes. The first one is settled cozily in the other’s arms, his fuller lips curling into a reserved smile. The second one who’s hugging him has a more neutral expression, but his chin is nestled warmly on the crown of the other’s head, lips almost planting a soft kiss there. Swiping, the next ones are solo pictures of each other that are definitely not professionally taken, near artsy graffiti walls, cafes and street markets. Their entire profile looks like a Pinterest board that Yunho would longingly stalk in bed, wide awake, two hours before his alarm is supposed to ring. 

 

“What does their profile say?” Yunho asks tentatively, curling his knees towards his chest and pushing his head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, “Stop squealing, let me see-”

 

“I’m ticklish there, you idiot!” he cackles in return. He clears his throat and begins reading their bio, “We’re Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa - we’ve been husbands for two years and partners for eight-” 

 

“Wait, how old are they?” Jongho asks. 

 

“Both of them turned 29 this year,” says Wooyoung, brows furrowing, “They’ve been together for a while, that’s a first.” 

 

“Supposing this isn’t someone giving out fake information,” Jongho reminds them. 

 

“We’re looking for someone who would like to keep one of us company while the other is away, but also spend time with us as a couple, too. The two of us are a package, so unfortunately a receiver cannot have one without the other. Sexual relations can be discussed after the first encounters, depending on the receiver’s intentions towards us.”  

 

“Well, I appreciate that one of them isn’t using this app to cheat on his partner,” says San, “But I figure not many people here would approach them.” 

 

“Why not?” asks Yunho, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible as he swipes through the pictures, zooming into the details. They look so happy in all of them, the colors of their clothes blending into the vivid backgrounds and creating something akin to a mural that’s full of life and adventure in the hidden corners of a busy city. There are no photos to showcase any details about their occupations or their work lives. It’s most likely purposeful, to protect their identities - they do state that they hold high positions in the companies they work in; founder and CEO respectively. 

 

“Well, who would want to get in between a married couple?” San wonders, “Obviously, this is a bit different, but still. And many people seek out one singular, celibate provider on these apps, usually.” 

 

“Our Yunho-yah here is a different breed,” Wooyoung announces with gloat and pride, “Wanna hit them up? They look like they’d be fun at parties.” 

 

Yunho hesitates for a moment. With the rest of his friends there, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night with anxious fingers hovering over the keyboard when he’s supposed to be having fun with his friends. 

 

At the look of hesitation that takes over his features, Jongho steps in, “Or you can like their profile now and hit them up later or another day.” 

 

“Mmm, so you can see when they like you back,” San agrees. 

 

Wooyoung hands him his phone with a ceremonious ruffle to his hair and a smile. Yunho presses the pulsing silver heart on the side of their profile, watching it turn red. 

 

He leaves his phone in the kitchen for the remainder of the night, forgetting all about the ‘Kim-Park’ profile with the help of fruity alcohol and the company of his best friends.  



♥    



It’s not until later next day, while he’s trying his best to cook some dinner for himself (that’s a first) instead of ordering take-out once again and draining his bank account even more, even though he has no idea how long you’re supposed to saute mushrooms for and has added way too much salt in the broth, that his phone pings with a Nectar -related notification. 

 

‘‘Kim-Park’ has liked your profile! Tap here to connect with them.’ 

 

“Okay,” he says out loud, but he’s alone in the kitchen. He could text Wooyoung, since he’s the one who got him into this mess in the first place. He could ignore the notification, delete the app altogether and go on his merry way with his vegetable soup that could definitely use a stirring right about now. He takes one look at his lockscreen before he puts it down on the counter, holding onto the ladle like a religious ornament protecting him from temptation. 

 

There’s logically no reason he should be feeling this jittery about this, yet here is, jumping as his phone pings again. 

 

‘‘Kim-Park’ has sent you a message! Tap here for more.’ 

 

His soup bubbles dangerously as it boils, the heat making his face flush a reddish pink color that matches his blushing ears, for entirely different reasons. He takes his phone and unlocks it, waiting for the app to load. In the ‘Notifications’ tab, there’s a few users who have pressed likes on his profile - older women and men, more than he ever expected, and the attention he seems to have garnered stirs something in his tummy. He pointedly avoids sifting through their profiles and liking back. Instead, he tentatively taps on the message pop-up that takes him directly to their conversation. 

 

[Kim-Park]: Hello, this is Seonghwa! 

 

[Jeong]: Hi I’m Yunho!

 

[Kim-Park]: This is Hongjoong, hi there! We text from different devices since we share the profile :) 

 

[Jeong]: That’s fine

 

He chews on his lip, one hand stirring his lunch and the other hovering over the keyboard with his thumb. 

 

[Jeong]: I don’t know if I should warn you but this is my first time making an account on an app like this 

 

[Jeong]: But I’ve had accounts on other dating apps so yeah

 

The torturous seconds he spends looking at the typing bubble feel more like a century before he finally gets a reply. He was honestly expecting a rejection or for them to brush it off, but surprisingly the message is almost sweet-sounding. 

 

[Kim-Park]: That’s perfectly fine! It is our first time trying out something like this, but hopefully we can work something out if you’re interested! -S 

 

Someone comes into the kitchen from their dorm room and Yunho pushes his phone in his back pocket, guilt overtaking him as if his fellow student can take one look at him and guess he’s talking with strangers on the internet. The guy takes one look at the fridge before he decidedly grabs a fizzy drink and then retreats to his room, fortunately not taking any of Yunho’s precious ice-tea that he has so carefully labeled with his name on a post-it note. He pours the experimental concoction he calls a ‘soup’ into a bowl and takes it back to the safety of his room, after rinsing off the pot. 

 

[Jeong]: I am, I just have a lot of questions about this and not sure how to go about it 

 

[Kim-Park]: Admittedly there’s lots of things to talk about, so you can ask us questions. Nothing is off-limits of course, so don’t be shy. -H 

 

He’s so lost in his thoughts about what this relationship could possibly entail, the nature of it and how he cannot avoid talking about the potential complications - this isn’t similar to any kind of flirting or relationship or casual sex he’s participated in before. There’s money involved, and he can’t help but hesitate at how he’s supposed to approach the subject. Surely, this couple has a profile on this app because they’re in search of a sugar baby. They want to potentially pay for his needs, that’s what providers are supposed to do, right? Is he supposed to just ask for it? How open can he be about his financial situation? He’s never even asked for a raise from his part-time jobs because who does that anyway? 

 

Explaining all of that through texts already creates an anxious feeling in his stomach - he’s too sensitive and the slightest change in tone will make him spiral. 

 

Thankfully, when he looks at the chat once again, they’ve sent him another text. 

 

[Kim-Park]: Would it make you feel better if we met in person? No pressure, of course. But meeting each other would definitely make things less awkward :) -H 

 

[Kim-Park]: But also please don’t feel pressured to meet us. If you want to go forward with an arrangement like this only through text, that’s perfectly fine as well. We don’t ever have to meet, and we’ll never pressure you to do so if you don’t wish to. -S 

 

[Jeong]: Meeting each other would be nice I think 

 

[Jeong]: :) 




♥ 



His friends find out about his plans, and to say the least they’re particularly overjoyed.  

 

“No more cup ramen for dinner!” Wooyoung exclaims in triumph, raising his bottled water in the air as if it’s golden, sparkly champagne. They’re in the dance studio, taking a break and cooling off on the floor. 

 

Yunho tries not to squirm as he stretches out his legs, head pushing against his calf and feeling the burn on the underside of his thigh. Although it’s a true fact that their diet is shitty because of little free time and limited funds, he still cannot fully grasp the idea of asking someone to pay for his needs, even if it’s an arrangement catering specifically to him. He hasn’t even met the couple yet - Wooyoung is already getting ideas and boasting about it, as he always does. 

 

San helps Yunho stretch even more by pushing gently on his back, letting Yunho lean forwards until his torso is approaching the wooden floor, legs spread on each side and ending in pointed toes. “When’s your date?” he asks gently. 

 

“At the end of the week,” Yunho replies. The three of them had agreed on going at a sleek, jazz bar-restaurant, nothing too excessive on their part - although Yunho had already spent an unnecessary amount of time looking at pictures of their destination on Google and gulping at the sight of how expensive everything looked, from the plates to the silverware to the decor to even the plates themselves; he wasn’t sure if it was photo-editing or simply money that made this restaurant’s dishes look so appealing. Perhaps his empty stomach was at fault. 

 

“You’re nervous,” San observes, “Don’t be. I know it’s weird, but some people make a living out of this.” 

 

“Sugar-babying?” Yunho asks, wincing at the stretch of his back. The word feels weird in his mouth. The cold floor against his cheek feels relieving enough, however. “I just - I have no idea how to approach this.” 

 

“Well, your goal is to have fun and get money. Their goal is to have fun and give you money. As long as you stay within your boundaries and don’t overstep them, there’s nothing to worry about.”

 

“Sannie’s right,” Wooyoung slides across the floor, crossing his legs and settling next to them, “Also, I’d much rather see you worry about what you’re going to wear than see you sulk because you’re anxious about this, Yunho-yah.” 

 

At that moment, their instructor comes back and asks them to get into position as she looks for the appropriate track on her phone. The music fills the room with its thumping bass, and Yunho gets lost as he always does when he’s dancing; letting his mind drift away from technical thoughts and overwhelming overthinking. His body has a mind of its own, limbs stretching in intricate poses, following the rhythm as if the music is being produced from his pulsing insides. 

 

When the track finally reaches his climax and comes to an end, Yunho sits still in the final pose their instructor has given them, and once she claps her hands he slumps onto the ground, chest rising and falling rapidly with each panting breath, adrenaline ringing in his ears.

 

All of his days are similar to each other - he has a hectic schedule of classes on contemporary dance, which is his major. Combined with that, he also attends hip-hop classes three times a week, as well as compulsory academic classes that plague his very existence and force him to pull all-nighters in order to finish the multitude of essays and small projects he’s due every week. 

 

As a result, his body takes the brunt of his academic pursuits, and it’s more than often the case that he overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, his aching body jittery and fueled by caffeine even if he’s ready to fall asleep. Rarely does he get the time or the extra money to cook for himself, and managing his finances is something he doesn’t particularly excel in. 

 

It feels like he’s giving himself excuses for getting into this - and he hasn’t even gone to their first date. 





Surprisingly enough, he forgets all about it until the day of his date. 

 

He’s painfully reminded of it with a cheerful text from his… potential boyfriends? Business partners? Sugar daddies, they’re your sugar daddies, Wooyoung would say. 

 

[Kim-Park]: Good morning, Yunho! How are things? :) -H 

 

Yunho jumps out of his bed like someone dropped an ice-cube inside the collar of his shirt - it’s Saturday morning, the day he’s supposed to meet the married couple for the first time, and he’s already slept in past his alarm. He has approximately five hours before he has to get to the station to catch his train. 

 

[Jeong]: Good morning! I’m very well, just woke up actually 

 

[Kim-Park]: Very happy about that, then. Is our date still happening? -S 

 

[Jeong]: Yes of course 

 

[Jeong]: I’m supposed to take the blue line, right? 

 

They text him specifications and send a screenshot of the trains’ timetable. They had already agreed upon meeting at the station and then walking the short 5 minute distance to the restaurant. Thankfully, not one of them had mentioned a car ride or insisted on picking up Yunho from his residence, and that makes him feel a bit calmer for the time being. 

 

That’s not to say that he isn’t once again jittery with anxiousness; he downs the stale iced americano that definitely classifies as lukewarm now from his bedside table and almost gets up from the bed, until his phone pings again with a calendar notification of all things.

 

An essay that he has no memory of ever hearing about in class. But the reminder is there, and the due date is in three hours.  

 

“Fuck me.” 

 

His head falls on his pillow and successfully muffles his anguish of a dance major cursed to attend obligatory classes on language and writing. 

 

Yunho curls like a turtle into the shell that is his bed, warm laptop vibrating against his thighs, typing away what seems like unintelligible jargon - he has to read his source articles multiple times before he can finally concentrate and understand the point. He imports pictures that mess up the layout of his text multiple times, but he stops himself from committing any sort of property damage on his electronics because he has no time, and no money to repair them. Once again bullshitting his way out of this essay, he sends it in with a haste spell check and immediately jumps from his bed - his phone now says 6:59, two hours before he’s supposed to meet up with a lawfully wedded couple, and that includes his train ride. 

 

As always, he’s forgotten to do his laundry, so his options are limited; mismatched clothes that definitely don’t make a coherent outfit fit enough for a fancy outing. He pulls clothes out of his closet, piling them up on his bed as if the perfect two-piece will magically appear in front of him. Time passes quickly without making any progress, and so Yunho does the one thing he didn’t wish to resort to. 

 

“Wait, today’s your sugar daddy date?” Wooyoung screams through the phone, but Yunho thankfully has him on speaker mode on his desk as he searches through his drawers, “You should have told me to come by earlier, I’m out for drinks now…”  

 

“I can hear that,” Yunho sighs at the bubbly background noise coming from Wooyoung. “Oh no, I need to shower!” 

 

“Uh, yeah? I hope you do. Where are they taking you anyways?” 

 

“Some fancy jazz restaurant… I need to wear nice clothes, but-” 

 

“You could literally show up in anything and you’d look good, Yunho-yah,” Wooyoung coddles him, and his voice takes that very specific tone he uses when he feels like his friend is down in the dumps with his appearance and needs a pick-me-up. And Yunho loves getting complimented, but his problems are of a more practical nature currently. But Wooyoung continues to rant away, showering him with compliments, “...Like, who wouldn’t find you attractive? Have you seen your legs and how shapely they are? You should wear that skirt more often-”  

 

“Skirt.” Yunho says out loud, letting Wooyoung’s voice fade into the background while his hands dig into his closet. 

 

He remembers thrifting it a year ago while accompanying Jongho who was looking for some vintage boots - the skirt had been discarded to the side, black satin fabric with a straight, slim fit. The hem of it reaches the middle of his calves, but there’s a slit over his right leg that stops just a little over his knee. There’s a few stray threads hanging from the bottom and a few sequins missing from the small butterfly design on the back of it, just over his butt - but the moment he saw it, it had made him so happy that Yunho rushed into the changing room to try it on. 

 

It was his after that, an item of clothing that he’d grown so attached to but ultimately had worn only a few times outside, in parties and coffee shops. It had been a while since he’d had enough time to sort out his clothes and unearth this treasure from the deep wells of his dorm room. 

 

“I think I got dressed,” he calls out to his phone. 

 

“Nice! Did you shower first?”  

 

“Fuck.” 







Yunho barely manages to catch his train on time; in the end he’s forced to stand because there aren’t any seats available. The fluorescent lights glow a freezing white color, and he’s able to look at his reflection on the opposite window while he listens to his workout playlist. He can see the shine of the reflective material of his tights that peek underneath the skirt, since it is too cold to forego them. The skirt fits him like a glove, opening up at the bottom just enough for his legs to walk easily in his leather shoes. He opted for an old mock-neck bodysuit that he’s worn for dance competitions as a top - the material is a dark grey, almost glittering fabric that’s thin enough to almost sculpt his upper body, accentuating the curves of his muscles on his chest and arms. His leather jacket provides enough warmth for now, although he’s not sure how he’ll fare once he’s out of the train. 

 

He doesn’t get intimidated easily, but this time, he has both Wooyoung and San on alert in case something goes wrong, i.e. the whole filthy rich married couple looking to throuple is a scam and he gets creeped out. 

 

“Anything happens, you call me and I’m ready to drop-kick a bitch.” San had told him over the phone, voice exuding intimidation and love at the same time. 

 

He squeezes his cross-body bag closer to his stomach with both hands, trying to take up as little space as possible in the cramped train. 

 

A small part of him, the one that’s still stuck in his childhood and views everything through pink-tinted glasses, hopes that this won’t be a failure. He’s looked over their profile a few times now while waiting for the time to pass - they seem simply too good to be true. Yunho just wishes he didn’t dress up for nothing. 

 

He hasn’t thought about what he’s going to tell them; he has to remind himself that this isn’t a normal date, by any means. 

 

The train finally arrives at its destination, and he holds onto the railing as his body is pushed forwards against his will. He waits until a substantial amount of people have squished themselves through the exits before he, too, makes his way outside, boots clicking against the gravel. 

 

They’re waiting at the top of the stairs, just outside of the station. 

 

Yunho notices them, of course, because they look nothing like the rest of the people hastily moving up and down the staircase. They stand close to each other, bodies almost engulfed in an embrace and heads moving gently in tandem with a soft, hushed, private conversation that isn’t supposed to be heard by anyone else outside of their little bubble. Their noses bump as they share a tender kiss, before going back to conversing. 

 

Yunho feels like an intruder. 

 

He holds onto his bag as if he’ll lose his balance - he’s frozen, rigid in the middle of the staircase as people push against his shoulder and rush past him. He can’t help it - he’s too enthralled to look away, yet he knows that if he keeps staring at them like this, from far away, the growing dark cloud in his stomach will only get darker. 

 

No one else seems to pay attention to the loving couple - is he the only one who’s affected like this, by two strangers he’s never met? 

 

Not bearing to look at their faces any longer, his eyes move downwards - they’re both dressed impeccably, simple but expensive fabrics in dark colors, gleaming jewelry catching the reflections of the street lights in the night. 

 

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize that the couple has noticed him - they offer small smiles, trying to decipher if he’s the one they’re waiting for. 

 

Yunho takes a deep breath, stuttering as he exhales. 

 

“You must be Yunho,” the taller one with the round glasses says, voice deep and smooth with a honey-like vibrato, “I’m glad you could make it. I’m Seonghwa.” 

 

“I’m Hongjoong,” the shorter one smiles at him, voice more mousey and teasing. 

 

“Yuh, I’m Yunho, that’s me,” he offers a smile as well, giddy at the realization that he hasn’t been scammed for the time being. “Hope I didn’t make you wait for long.” 

 

“Not at all,” Seonghwa says with ease. He’s just a little shorter than Yunho, deep brown eyes studying his features, “You’re beautiful.” 

 

Yunho catches the whimper that almost leaves his throat at the last minute, holding his breath. Next to him, Hongjoong lets out a laugh, “Excuse my husband, he’s very upfront and honest. But he never lies; pictures don’t do you justice, Yunho.”  

 

“Thank you,” he breathes out, happy with himself that his voice didn’t tremble. It’s absurd, being affected by someone’s words like this - Yunho has always been sensitive to praise and kind words. It started out as a side-effect of being a bright, ‘gifted’ child in elementary school, and developed into a kink when he had proper sex for the first time. “You, uhm, you both look good.” 

 

“Just good? ” Hongjoong laughs gently, “I was aiming for something more exciting. I guess I have to work harder to impress you, then.” The snark rolls off his tongue like ringlets of intoxicating smoke, and he’s so close to Yunho, looking up at him through mascara-coated lashes and dark, shimmering grey shadow circling his eyes. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Seonghwa asks before Yunho can scramble to apologize out of sheer sexual intimidation, “The place I booked us a table at is just around the corner. Let’s not stand in the cold any longer, mm?” 

 

He nods, not trusting himself enough to speak. 

 

The walk is no more than two minutes long, but he ends up in between the couple - with Hongjoong and Seonghwa on either side of him, their warmth is enough to coddle his cold, pink cheeks. They make small talk about the train ride while entering a tall, glass building that houses multiple stores, cafes and karaoke bars, and head straight for the elevator, which will take them to the highest floor. 

 

“The view from up there is stunning,” Seonghwa tells him over the generic elevator music that does just enough to fill in the awkward silence. There’s eight people with them in there, and Yunho is just conveniently squished in between the couple once again. Their stance is almost protective over him. “We haven’t been here in a while, have we?” he asks Hongjoong. Under the fluorescent lights, Seonghwa’s eyelids sparkle with the tiniest hint of peach gold. 

 

“No, it’s been a while,” his husband agrees. 

 

The restaurant, ‘Twilight’ , is located at the top of the skyscraper - jazz instrumentals filter smoothly from the speakers, matching the dim lighting and the deep colors of the decor; oak, dark green and golden accents. The gentle sound of customers talking and cutlery softly clinking against porcelain immediately makes Yunho feel serene. Everyone’s dressed in fine clothing, but it’s certainly nothing excessively luxurious - Yunho doesn’t feel underdressed for the occasion or uncomfortable for the time being. It certainly wouldn’t be his first choice if it were his decision solely based on what he can guess can be the price range, but that’s fine. He’s a student living off of convenience store food and cheap take-out, his standards are already low as they are. 

 

The maitre d’ brings them to their table that’s positioned right next to the window, the dark sea of the cityscape spreading across the distance from their view. The yellowish lights litter the city like clusters of stars - a city that doesn’t intend on sleeping no matter how late it gets. 

 

He sits down after Hongjoong helps him take off his coat and pulls out his chair for him to take his seat, cheeks burning. While the waiter fills their glasses with water and hands them their menus, he takes in his dates’ appearances from up close. 

 

Hongjoong takes off his Montgomery coat, revealing a black turtleneck and a few layered silver chain necklaces resting on his chest. He pushes a few strands of dark hair behind his ear, and now Yunho can see that his mullet is overgrown the length he had in the photos on their profile. It curls around his neck, tied in a small braid that reaches just past his collarbone on his right side. 

 

Seonghwa, on his side, is wearing a deep, V-neck purple mesh top that shimmers underneath the dim lighting, accentuating his golden, pronounced chest. Pearl earrings hang from his ears, and the man plays with them absentmindedly as he thanks the waiter.

 

Every piece of them belongs here.  

 

“-Yunho?” Hongjoong’s voice brings him back to reality, “Have you picked out anything? We can order our drinks first and then take our time with the food.” 

 

“Uh,” Yunho opens the drinks’ menu, eyes moving fast to catch something that might tickle his fancy. He’s more of a cocktail person anyway, but the cocktails’ section has weird names and he fails to come up with an answer in the next minute or so, “I’m not sure.” 

 

“What type of drinks do you like?” Hongjoong leans forward, their shoulders bumping together. Yunho’s heart skips a beat, “I can help you out.” 

 

“Fruity, I guess?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I like light and fruity stuff.” 

 

He hears Hongjoong mumble ‘Cute’ under his breath and his ears get positively cherry-colored. 

 

He ends up with a raspberry and rum based cocktail that has a vibrant fuschia color - Hongjoong gets a glass of wine, and Seonghwa opts for a non-alcoholic drink, “I’m the one driving this time,” he clarifies with a charming smile. 

 

After they finally place their orders, Hongjoong brings his hands to rest under his chin, regarding Yunho with a curious smile, “So, Yunho, you’re in university?” 

 

Yunho nods, gulping down more of his drink for good measure and a shot of bravery, “Yeah, um, yes. I’m in my third year right now. Dance major,” he blushes when he sees Seonghwa’s eyes open wider in surprise, like they hold entire galaxies in them, “I am a contemporary dancer first, but I also do hip-hop.” 

 

“Seonghwa used to dance ballet when he was younger,” Hongjoong says proudly. Yunho’s eyes fix on the hand Hongjoong places on his husband’s thigh, how his fingers stroke over the fabric of his pants, his black nail polish glinting. 

 

“I took some ballet classes when I was little, too,” Yunho admits, “Ultimately, I was more drawn to contemporary.” 

 

“So you’re pursuing your dream of becoming a dancer?” Seonghwa says encouragingly. 

 

“More or less,” Yunho chuckles nervously. He hesitates to say the next words, but he figures that since they’re getting to know each other with the goal of forming a transactional relationship, there’s no harm to tell them, “I originally entered another university for finance and business management, but I really couldn’t keep doing it. I hated it, to be honest.”

 

It’s the first time he’s ever admitted that to someone; even after the multiple fights with his parents, he’d never been so blunt about how much he hated that period of his life. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s the way Hongjoong and Seonghwa listen to him; attentively, never taking their eyes off of him. 

 

“B-but now it’s way better,” he assures them, “That was a few years ago anyway. What do you guys do?”  

 

Hongjoong looks like he wants to ask more questions, but ultimately he lets it go, “I’m a fashion designer. I worked in the creative departments of local brands, tried my shot at haute couture and ultimately created my own company and brand with my husband here.” 

 

“I’m nowhere near the clothes,” Seonghwa clarifies, taking a sip from his drink, “CEO and financial advisor Park Seonghwa at your service.” 

 

“If it wasn’t for him, this company would honestly plummet to the ground,” Hongjoong jokes, but Seonghwa takes his hand and squeezes it, tenderly stroking the skin. 

 

“No it wouldn’t,” he pouts, “Don’t say that, my love.” 

 

My love.  

 

“I’m just exaggerating,” Hongjoong brushes him off, turning around to Yunho and shooting him a wink, “I’m an artistic soul, I don’t know how math works.” 

 

“Ah, me neither,” Yunho offers, taking another swing from his drink, “I’m really bad with savings. My friends always nag me that I need to take better care of my finances, but jokes on them because we all end up splitting the bill on groceries.” 

 

The rum is now swimming freely in his tummy, and it’s making him ramble like he always does when he’s nervous, eyes averting the couples’ gaze. Fingers tapping on his glass, he looks outside towards the city lights. “I don’t even want to think about my student loans, I haven’t visited the department in a while now….” he mumbles to himself. 

 

Silence falls across the table. Seonghwa clears his throat, “Yunho dear - is that something you’d like us to help you with? We can definitely do that.” 

 

Instantly, Yunho panics, “Ah! No, no, not at all. I’m just-” he sighs, rubbing at his temples. He really should have waited for his food to arrive before downing his cocktail. Who offers to pay for someone’s student debt on the first date anyway? Park Seonghwa does, apparently. 

 

“I just think that that is something that’s my responsibility. I don’t want other people meddling with it. I’m sorry if that’s rude-” 

 

“It’s not rude at all!” Hongjoong assures him, “We’re practically strangers, we’re not entitled to know your financial situation, Yunho. We’re not going to forcefully meddle with parts of your life that you don’t want us to. That’s just wrong.” 

 

“We can establish boundaries,” Seonghwa says, “Talk about the ways we could help you, if you want to meet again, that is. It’s a two-way arrangement - you obviously get something in return.” 

 

Yunho gulps, nervously digging his nails into the pads of his fingers under the table. He’s not a confrontational person. He hates asking for help more than anything, especially when it comes to things like this. But the two of them seem eager to help him, at least they seem honest enough about it. But he’s so confused, so out of the loop with how an arrangement like this could work. 

 

“Can I be honest with you guys?” his voice is barely a mumble, but they both nod. “I-I have no idea what I’m doing here. My friends thought it would be fun to create a profile for me on this app, but I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how it works. I don’t - I don’t really know what I want.” 

 

Their expressions are hard to read, but they don’t look mad at least. His chest trembles with each breath, “I don’t know what I could give someone, and I don’t know what I would wish for in return. I don’t want help with my student loans - I just, I’m not sure-”

 

“Hey,” Hongjoong sounds soft, like the warm crackle of a fireplace, “That’s fine, that’s totally fine. If you want to not go through with this date-” 

 

“No, I-” Yunho feels his throat swell with unshed tears, and he’s so nervous, “I’m here because - well, because I’m attracted to you. And maybe, maybe I want to try this out. I just don’t know what to do.” 

 

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa reassures him, “It’s a first for us too, you know. And we’re attracted to you, too, you know.” 

 

Yunho’s cheeks burn like he’s on fire. 

 

Saving him from his embarrassment, the waiter finally arrives with their food; a few small plates in the center with entrees and salad, and their respective main dishes in front of each one of them. 

 

Yunho finds himself with a hefty plate of slices of roasted stuffed meat and warm sweet potatoes that smell like heaven. “Go on, dig in, it’s delicious,” Hongjoong smiles at him. 

 

And so, the conversation is put on hold for the sake of their dinner - Yunho carefully cuts a piece of juicy, warm meat and puts it in his mouth. 

 

And almost tears up. 

 

It’s scalding on his tongue but he doesn’t care; the flavors that burst on his tongue, the warmth that fills his entire body as he chews and swallows - he hasn’t eaten an actual meal like this in years, something that reminds him of when he was little. He’s been living off of store-bought snacks, coffee and energy drinks and he knows it’s stupid and insignificant but he just wishes he could have enough time and money to spend on groceries without having to cut corners. 

 

There’s so many thoughts in his mind that it overwhelms him, and he falls exceptionally quiet as he eats his dinner, savoring every bite. 

 

“Does it taste good?” Seonghwa leans closer, sweet perfume pulling Yunho in. 

 

A comforting hand settles on Yunho’s back, large palm rubbing the small of his back. 

 

It feels so good, this touch, the attention Seonghwa is giving him, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s a very touchy person who’s always craved hands-on affection, or because he’s secretly longed for something like this for a while now. Whatever the case is, Yunho trembles, nodding and pushing more food into his mouth. 

 

“D’you want a dumpling?” Hongjoong speaks up, and when Yunho turns towards him he’s already holding a steaming one between his chopsticks in the air, ready to deposit it on Yunho’s plate, “Hey, they look just like you,” he giggles, one polished finger booping his cheek. 

 

Yunho is going to melt right there, like fondue cheese, on the table, in this expensive fucking restaurant, forever stripped from his dignity. 

 

“It’s all so tasty,” he whispers. Hongjoong and Seonghwa sigh happily and let him finish his dish in silence, listening to the background jazz music and the ambience of chatter. 

 

It’s not until they’ve ordered dessert that they pick up the conversation again, “M-maybe,” he starts, playing around with his spoon in the piece of warm apple pie and ice cream they’re sharing, “Perhaps, I could, um.” 

 

Hongjoong thankfully catches on quickly, “You can ask for anything, you can tell us. Whatever you feel comfortable with, Yunho.” 

 

He tries to explain his jumbled thoughts from earlier as best as he can to them, and the couple listens to him, nodding along. They don’t judge him one bit when he explains that what he struggles with are the simple things, the insignificant small details of everyday life that manage to bring him down and even make it hard to get out of bed sometimes. That he doesn’t have time for a part-time job, and even if he did, he’d surely fall asleep on the counter. That his studies are hard, that his major is filled with competitive people and he can’t afford to fall behind. 

 

Seonghwa speaks first, words gentle and comforting - he says their arrangement could work as a small allowance, since Yunho feels iffy about asking for more or teetering into ‘paying-for-his-entire-student-debt’ territory. They don’t settle on anything for the moment, but his stomach isn’t tied into a knot like before. He still feels shy, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And Hongjoong and Seonghwa never make him feel bad for speaking up. 

 

When their bill comes, the waiter places it discreetly on the table. Yunho, who’s talking with Hongjoong, sees Seonghwa out of the corner of his eye taking a peek at the bill before he signals to the waiter with one hand, taking out his card with the other from his coat. 

 

Yunho doesn’t say anything, but Hongjoong gives him a smile. They’ll take care of it, he means. 

 

They’ll take care of him, too.   





“Are you sure you’re okay with riding the train this late at night? I can call you a taxi, y’know.” 

 

“No, ‘s okay,” Yunho assures them. They’re in the elevator, descending slowly, and it gives Yunho a heady, floaty sensation in combination with his full tummy and the drinks he consumed. He blinks a few times when his eyes droop downwards, fatigue taking over him. “It stops right next to where I live. And I don’t want to waste a ticket.” 

 

Admittingly, and he’s not sure why, but he does feel kind of disappointed that the couple didn’t offer to drive him home. He knows it’s probably for the best - he might have panicked, and they’re doing their best to give him his space. This was only a first date, if he can even call it that. Even after tonight, they know almost nothing about each other. 

 

His stomach twists; he doesn’t want to catastrophize and assume that they’re not offering because they don’t want to see him again. 

 

“Here,” Hongjoong passes him a small card once they’re outside of the building, heading towards the train station. Yunho takes it, regarding it curiously, “My personal card, it has both mine and Seonghwa’s phone numbers on it,” he points to the fine printing, “If you need us for anything, please don’t hesitate to call, okay Yunho?” 

 

Hongjoong’s palm reaches up and ruffles his hair and, oh, Yunho really can’t protest after that. 

 

They walk with him until the station’s entrance, Seonghwa’s hand on the small of his back, the three of them gravitating towards each other for warmth. He still has two minutes until his train arrives, so he stops abruptly right in front of the staircase, and turns to them. 

 

“I-” he begins, failing to find the right words at first, “This was nice. I mean, I had a wonderful time.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. 

 

The couple look at him with their star-filled eyes, offering their smiles on a platter, as if it’s just for him. 

 

“It was wonderful,” Seonghwa admits, pursing his lips as if he’s trying not to smile harder, “To be honest with you, Yunho, we were very nervous before this. But, as it appears, there was nothing to worry about.” 

 

An announcement rings through the station, startling Yunho. He needs to get going quickly, if he doesn’t want to miss the last train of the night. 

 

Yet he remains frozen on his feet, standing before a married couple that’s looking at him with expressions so fond that draw him in, like a spell. 

 

“Will I see you again?” he blurts out, almost breathless. His hands tingle at his sides - he wants to touch, but maybe a hug would be too much. He doesn’t even know them that well, why is he so touch-starved? 

 

But Hongjoong rubs his hand down his arm, a momentary comfort, “If you want to, yes. We want to see you again too, Yunho.” 

 

Yunho wants to hear his name from their lips again and again and again. 

 

His ears ring again - he’s gonna miss his train if he doesn’t leave now

 

“Go, go, you’ll miss your train,” Seonghwa tells him, “Be safe, Yunho!” 

 

“You too!” he shouts as he runs, turning to look at them as he runs down the stairs - it’s a miracle he doesn’t trip and fall on his face, and squeezes himself through the automatic doors a second before they close and the train takes off, mechanical whirring pushing him forwards with force. 

 

Thankfully, there seems to be no weirdos on the train this time, which is a first - there’s a couple dozing off with their heads pushed together at the back, a group of ladies softly chattering and another young man who’s reading a book. Silently, Yunho takes a seat and leans his head against the window. It feels soothingly cold on his flushed skin. He closes his eyes and sighs - maybe he’ll doze off for the rest of the ride. 

 

His phone buzzes, but he’s already breathing heavily, head sinking into fluffy clouds of dreams, face squished against the window. 

 

‘'Kim-Park’ has sent you a message! Tap here for more.’ 

Chapter Text

 

“So you have their phone numbers now?” Jongho questions him a few days later. He places the steaming cup of latte on the small table Yunho usually sits at, the one near the cashier so that Jongho can chat with him when there’s not a lot of traffic at the cafe his friend works at part-time. 

 

Right now, it’s one of those times - Jongho is all alone, and there’s only two other customers occupying a table at the other side of the cafe, already served and making conversation. 

 

Yunho holds the cup in his palms like a hand warmer, sighing happily when Jonho takes a seat opposite of him - one of the perks of Jongho working here for years now, other than the fact that Yunho can get his daily dose of caffeine with a hefty discount, is that his friend is definitely not as uptight when his boss isn’t around. 

 

“I do,” says Yunho, “But I haven’t called them yet. We’ve sent each other a few texts back and forth after the date.” 

 

“And?” 

 

Yunho bites the inside of his lip. When he got to his dorm that night, after the novel experience of going on a sugar-daddy date with a married couple nonetheless, there was a goodnight text waiting for him in his notifications. 

 

[Kim-Park]: Tonight was lovely, Yunho. I hope we see each other again very, very soon. -S, H  

 

The response he sent was one of similar nature, typed in hurriedly while he simultaneously took off his clothes, falling onto the creaking mattress as exhaustion washed over his body. He felt wonderful though, as tired as he was - he felt warm under the covers, but the warmth seemed to be seeping out of him , generated by good food and Seonghwa’s hand rubbing the small of his back and Hongjoong’s sparkly eyes and cute voice and… 

 

He was stroking himself before he could realize what he was doing, pushing his shirt into his mouth until a generous amount of spit could soak into the fabric, his free hand twisting his soft pink nipple as he came in short, breathy moans, imagining hands that weren’t his own exploring his body at their leisure. 

 

He thought about the two of them in bed - Yunho doesn’t know if it’s due to the fact that they’ve been together for so long or because of their marriage, but the two of them seemed to almost mirror each other in their expressions. As he squeezed his cock, milking himself from his orgasm until it was down-right pleasurably painful and overstimulating, a fleeting image of the married couple fucking on their probably very expensive sheets was enough for him to groan loudly, almost drooling. 

 

Jongho snaps his fingers in front of his voice. “Yah, Yunho - what happened next?” 

 

“Nothing’s happened after that,” he murmurs. He can’t get horny right before his next class, for fuck’s sake. “They do have jobs, you know.” 

 

“Do they now,” Jongho says, brow quirking upwards, revealing his sardonic tone, “What do they do?” 

 

“Hongjoong is a fashion designer. He has his own company. Seonghwa is the CEO of said company - I’m pretty sure he handles the financial department of things.” 

 

“Okay,” Jongho says, but he still doesn’t sound convinced. “What’s the name of the company?” When Yunho doesn’t answer, he raises his brows, “What, they didn’t tell you?” 

 

“We didn’t-” 

 

“Yunho you’re getting scammed.” 

 

“I’m not getting scammed!” he protests, “We’ve gone on one date! Hongjoong handed me his personal card!” 

 

“And why haven’t you fucking googled them?” Jongho’s eyes bulge out, “That would be the first thing I would do.” 

 

“I slept in all day yesterday,” Yunho pouts. “Stop getting anxious over my well-being. They’re fine, really.” 

 

Jongho purses his lips, but lets it go. They both know that out of the two of them, Jongho is much more frantic with his worries, whereas Yunho gets quiet when he’s anxious - in the end, Yunho consoles Jongho much more often than the opposite. 

 

“You have practice with Wooyoung and San next?” his friend asks, already knowing the answer. He leans over to the cashier, grabbing a few snacks from the baskets they place in front of customers to urge them to make an extra purchase with their coffee, “Share with them, okay? I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” 

 

Yunho doesn’t respond, but he opens the chocolate-filled pastry wrapped in plastic and takes a huge bite out of it. 

 

The bell chimes from the front door of the cafe, but Yunho sits opposite of the entrance, so he cannot see the customer who’s just entered - all he sees is Jongho jumping to his feet, patting down his dark maroon apron, face lighting up like a shooting star. 

 

“Jongho!” A deep voice shouts excitedly behind Yunho, “I wanna try that coconut latte you recommended to me last time!” 

 

Yunho turns around - the deep voice belongs to a tall, cheerful guy, high cheeks pressing into the round frames of his glasses. Yunho feels like he’s seen him somewhere, but he’s not sure. What he is sure of, is that this guy has a particularly strong effect on Jongho. 

 

“Hey, can you help me out with this essay?” the guy says again, already unzipping his backpack, “I think I’ve got it figured out, but a look-over always helps! Oh, hi!” he turns to Yunho, smile still bright, “We’ve never met before, I think. Are you one of Jongho’s friends? I’m Mingi!” 

 

“Yunho,” Yunho says, and he can’t help but smile as a result of Mingi’s infectious bubbly disposition. “Jongho is one of my best friends,” he admits. 

 

“The feeling is mutual,” Jongho says, “Now Yunho, you have class I think.” 

 

“Uh, actually, I still have like ten minutes left-” 

 

“Well, you can take a nice walk,” Jongho says hastily, gently but forcefully moving Yunho’s startled body from his seat and ushering him towards the exit, “Go, go, shoo.” 

 

“Is this something I should know about?” Yunho can’t help but ask, a cheeky smile making his cheeks rise up like dough. “Do you have a crush on this Mingi-” 

 

“Have a nice day, thank you for coming!” Jongho yells anxiously, and Yunho is finally out of the cafe, bell chiming as the door shuts behind him. 

 

Giggling, Yunho takes a peek from the glass windows; Jongho has sat down on one of the tables next to Mingi, looking over a stack of papers that seem to get bigger as Mingi gets more things out of his bag. He’s definitely going to question Wooyoung and San about this - thing is, if it’s a secret, he’s at risk of spreading the information to those two; well that’s a problem for future Yunho to figure out. 

 

There’s still ten minutes until dance practice starts, and the building isn’t far away - it only takes him two minutes until he’s finally inside the studio, all alone apart from his classmates’ bags, haphazardly thrown across the room near the walls. He slumps down on the wooden floor after taking his shoes and socks off. He begins stretching, legs spread out on each side as he twists his waist and leans down on his thigh, the underside of his leg burning deliciously. 

 

His eyes turn to his bag. He huffs and starts stretching against his other leg, but the thought is still there, buzzing around his mind like an annoying insect. 

 

He could call them. 

 

And say what? “Hi, I think you’re both extremely hot and pretty and I’ve had a near on-going semi for the past two days. Getting paid sounds nice but to be honest, for some reason, I kind of want to see you two more.” 

 

Besides, maybe texting them through the app would be better - but who knows when they’d see his message, and he doesn’t want to get ignored. 

 

Before he knows it, the card is already in his hands. 

 

It’s sleek but edgy, textured as if there’s paint splattered over the paper - on the back, there’s their initials, KHJ and PSH, and their personal phone numbers. 

 

There’s still 7 minutes left until the studio fills with the rest of his classmates and their instructor comes back, and Yunho is going to make a bad decision. 

 

He calls Hongjoong first. 

 

A weird, foreign, sour feeling spreads through him when Hongjoong doesn’t answer even after a minute and a half of calling him. Well. 

 

He confirms his suspicions of having little to no shame when he hangs up and dials Seonghwa’s number instead. 

 

His heart jumps when the man answers on the second ring, “Park Seonghwa speaking.”  

 

His voice sounds professional and cold, completely opposite of the tone he had during their date that was light-hearted and charming. It startles Yunho so much that he forgets how normal people greet each other over the phone and just says bluntly, “I thought this was a personal number?” 

 

A pause, and then an audible gasp through the phone, “Yunho? Is that you?” 

 

“Yeah-” 

 

“I knew it was you! I recognized your voice,” Seonghwa laughs, audibly relaxed, “I apologize, I’m in work-mode right now and many of my associates also have my personal number, so I’m always alert.”  

 

“You’re at work right now? Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have called, I’m keeping you busy-” 

 

“No, please,” Seonghwa protests, “We gave you our phone numbers for a reason, hm? And I’m not that busy right now - I can always make time for you.”  

 

Yunho gulps, “Huh, um. Okay, so I called you, because-” he looks up when a few students enter the room, and he slides further back into the corner, lowering his voice, “I guess I, uh, I wanted to see how you’re doing?” Great, clingy as hell. 

 

Seonghwa chuckles through the phone, “I’m doing well, Yunho. How about you, busy start to the week? How are your classes?”  

 

“Good, fine, busy as always,” Yunho replies. “I'm waiting for dance practice to start in a bit, and I have two classes back-to-back in the afternoon.” 

 

“That sounds like a lot, Yunho dear,” Seonghwa tuts. 

 

San’s vibrant pink head peaks through the door, “Good morning!” he yells to the rest of the students in the studio, Wooyoung’s deep morning voice mumbling something similar after him. Once he spots Yunho, he happily bounces towards him, “Yunho-” 

 

“-right?” Seonghwa’s voice comes from his phone, and Yunho realizes he hasn’t paid any attention to what he’s been saying. He motions to San and Wooyoung to leave him alone until he finishes his phone call. 

 

“Sorry, can you repeat that? It’s a bit busy in here, and I couldn’t-” 

 

A chuckle, “Ah, that’s okay! I was just saying, do you have any free time to eat your lunch today? You shouldn’t overwork yourself. I know college schedules can be straining to your mental health and well-being.”  

 

Yunho thinks if Seonghwa had been his mental health advisor throughout high school (that is, if their school had one in the first place), he would have probably arrived at university with so much less trauma and baggage from his adolescence. The man’s voice just sounds so comforting and sweet that it catches Yunho off guard. The mental image of Seonghwa’s big, round eyes looking at him with lashes so long they almost touch his cheekbones is enough to make his heart clench. 

 

“I-I do have a two-hour break in between dance practice and my next class,” he admits, “I’ll get lunch then!” 

 

“Would you be interested in getting lunch with me?” 

 

Oh, that’s a very interesting turn of events - Yunho is not going to admit that the goal of this phone call was to see them, nor is he going to admit how over the moon he feels that it’s turning out this way. 

 

“Since I’m at the office right now, I usually have lunch here. I can’t promise that Hongjoong will have time to join us, but nevertheless, it’ll be fun. Don’t feel pressured to agree-” 

 

“No, I want to!” he rushes to say, realizing how loud he’s being after almost everyone in the room turns to look at him. He hears Wooyoung mumble something to San about him being a gay disaster, as if those two have any room to talk. But that’s not important right now, “I really want to, Seonghwa.” 

 

Seonghwa makes a noise through the phone that could possibly be the most adorable thing Yunho has ever heard, “I’ll text you the address - have a nice dance practice, alright?” 

 

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you.” 

 

When he finally hangs up, San and Wooyoung are lying on the floor next to him on their tummies, holding up their faces in their hands - they both have sprout-like ponytails on their heads with matching hair ties, and Yunho can’t help but laugh shyly. 

 

“You’re getting fucked during lunch break?” Wooyoung breaks the silence. 

 

“Shut up!” Yunho cries out desperately, hoping no one’s heard him, “I’m just going to have lunch with him at his office. I met them two days ago!” 

 

Their instructor arrives then, and sternly tells them to start stretching because they have a lot of choreography steps to go through. Yunho obediently helps San stretch this time, but is ultimately pestered by his friend’s constant nagging. “How does it feel, getting wined and dined for the second date in a row? You’re a pro sugar baby, at this point.” 

 

“I’m not getting ‘wined’, it’s just lunch,” Yunho reminds him, “Now be quiet and stretch better, how am I supposed to lift you later?” 

 

“It’s not my fault you have long noodle arms-” 

 

Yunho huffs, a devious smile appearing on his face once he realizes the convenient position his hands are at the moment - with a swift motion that fills him with utter satisfaction, he digs his fingers into San’s waist and tickles mercilessly at his sides, until San starts squealing like a fox and their instructor yells at them to stop being children and concentrate. 





Three hours later and Yunho is scrambling to unlock his phone - this time, he doesn’t have any notifications from Nectar, but a text on his personal number. 

 

Hi, this is Seonghwa! Sending you the address here for lunch.. 

 

When Yunho clicks on the location link, he realizes a few things: for one, Hongjoong’s company is very close to his university building. Like, ten-minutes-on-foot close. He’s pretty sure he’s passed by the specific building that houses their offices, never sparing it more than a glance - he does remember noting that it looked very expensive and professional. But then again, so did most skyscraper buildings. 

 

“KHJ Co.,” he murmurs to himself, looking at the information Google provides, “...fashion brands ‘Aurora’ and ‘Desire’ ...” 

 

“C’mon puppy,” Wooyoung jabs him at his side, catching him off guard, “You’ll be late for your date.” 

 

When Yunho looks up, everyone else has left the room, and only his two friends have stayed behind. 

 

“I need to change!” he realizes. He’s still in his black workout leggings, but in order to change he has to drop by his dorm first, and he doesn’t want to be late - he usually doesn’t care enough to do so, and just keeps on wearing them through his lessons later in the day. 

 

“But your ass looks fantastic in those,” San assures him, like the hype-man he is. “Besides, as you said, it’s just lunch.” 

 

“Do you expect me to stroll through a professional office in a pair of leggings?” 

 

“And you’ll do it with pride,” Wooyoung nods, “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep your CEO waiting.” 

 

They end up accompanying him until a block away from the building - and they only agree to let him enter on his own after he practically begs them to do so, “I already have Jongho on my case thinking I’m getting scammed,” he sighs, and San shushes him with a kiss on the cheek, his short pink ponytail bouncing with his excited head movements, “Stop rubbing on me like a cat! Now go, do couple-y things like you always do when I’m around!” 

 

“Come here, Sannie,” Wooyoung wraps an arm around San’s waist, “While Yunho gets ‘lunch’, I’m gonna treat you to some tteokbokki like the good, pure boyfriend I am.” 

 

“Hell yeah,” San snuggles up against him as they start walking away, waving at Yunho and reminding him to not be late for his next class. 

 

Now, it’s just Yunho. 

 

He hesitates at first, standing awkwardly in front of the entrance - he can see through the glass walls a myriad of people moving around, evidently busy with work. He goes through the automatic doors and makes a beeline for the receptionist - Seonghwa had mentioned in his text that he could just leave his name at the front desk and mention that he’s here to see Park Seonghwa. 

 

So Yunho takes a deep breath and approaches the well-dressed lady who’s currently operating the front desk, phone clutched between her cheek and shoulder. 

 

“Hello, hi,” he says shyly, hoping to get her attention. Fortunately, she noticed him quick enough and motions for him to wait just a second while she finishes her phone call. “My name’s Jeong Yunho, I’m here to see Mr. Park Seonghwa,” he tells her when she finally greets him, “I have an appointment with him…” 

 

“Ah, so you are Yunho, then,” another voice sounds from behind him, startling him. When he turns around, he’s met with a man much shorter than him, who’s holding an iPad close to his chest, looking very professional and busy. Or he’s very good at pretending that he is. 

 

“I was just ready to give you a call,” the receptionist smiles at the man. 

 

“It’s my job to appear out of nowhere just when I’m needed,” he winks at her. 

 

“Ten will take you up to Mr. Park’s office, Mr. Jeong,” she says, noting down his name. 

 

“Ah, right,” Yunho says when the man, Ten, threads his arm around his, holding onto him by the inside of his elbow. “Um, how do you know my name?” 

 

“I’m Mr. Park’s personal assistant,” Ten tells him, as if that’s supposed to answer his question, “You’re really tall, you know? If I didn’t know you two were meeting for lunch, I would have guessed you were here to apply as a model for the upcoming runway show. Y’know, with your pink hair and all.” 

 

They walk through the lobby, and Yunho looks around at the sleek but colorful design that’s prominent in every aspect of the decor - from the pastel accents on the walls to the bright, colorful furniture. The hubbub and chatter sounds almost melodic, and Yunho almost falls into a trance while he stares at people passing by him, until he’s standing in front of the elevator, its loud ding interrupting his thoughts. 

 

“His office is at the top floor, so this will take a bit,” Ten notifys him once they’re both inside the elevator, doors slowly closing, “Mr. Park did talk to me about you - he never expects visitors during lunchtime and no one’s allowed into his office during that time either, other than Mr. Kim. He had to make sure I wouldn’t do my best to keep you out,” he giggles, eyes crinkling. 

 

Ignoring the vague threatening connotations of Ten’s otherwise lighthearted persona, Yunho can’t help but ask, “Will Hongjoong be there, too?” 

 

Ten stays silent for a moment, before a self-indulgent smile appears on his lips. It takes a second for Yunho to realize that it was caused by him referring to Ten’s boss in such an informal way. The man takes a look at his iPad screen, scrolling through until he finds what he’s looking for, “Mr. Kim is currently in a meeting with the creative department, but he’ll most likely be done soon,” he says. 

 

Yunho’s heart flutters at the possibility of meeting both of them again so soon. 

 

A minute or two more and they’re finally at the top floor - Ten waits until Yunho gets out first, and Yunho stumbles over his feet when he tries to thank him and also walk at the same time. 

 

This floor is not as busy at the lobby, although there’s still a substantial amount of people here too - evidently, it’s also their break time, because instead of sitting at their desks, they’ve gathered around the couches near the windows, having lunch with the view of the city. Ten leads him to a separate room that’s still visible through the glass walls, a very spacious and well-equipped kitchen. The kitchen island is filled with a variety of metallic trays full of food, and it already looks like people have already done a number on them. 

 

“Pick out anything you’d like to eat and I’ll bring it for you in Mr. Park’s office,” Ten tells him.

“Ah, it’s okay, you don’t have to bring it for me, I’ll take it-” Yunho tries to protest. 

 

“No, no, I will,” Ten insists, “Now, pick out what you like. His office is the first door to your left,” the personal assistant gestures vaguely. 

 

Yunho takes a careful look at each and every steaming tray of food - there’s soup and roasted meat and spicy vegetable stew and salad bowls and skewers and pasta, and Yunho barely manages to pick out something for lunch without drooling all over the marble counter. Ten gives him a smile and assures him that he’ll be just fine, and Yunho takes off in search of Seonghwa’s office, legs already feeling numb with nervousness. 

 

Seonghwa’s office is situated at the end of a short corridor; he chews on the side of his thumb and looks behind him nervously as he stands in front of the double doors, wondering if he should wait until Ten arrives with their lunch. But then, that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Trying to open the door while Seonghwa’s personal assistant’s hands are holding a heavy tray, then squeezing past him to go sit at the table, would he get to greet Seonghwa first- 

 

“Yunho?” 

 

The doors have slided open, and Seonghwa’s head is poking out through the gap, staring at him with pretty big eyes wide open, lips slightly parted. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses are perched across the bridge of his nose. 

 

“Ah-” Yunho gasps, “Seonghwa? Did you- how did you know I was here?” 

 

“I can see you from the camera,” the man lets out a soft laugh, pointing towards the security camera at the ceiling corner. “Wanna come in?” he pushes the doors away from each other, extending his hand for Yunho to take it. 

 

Seonghwa’s office is huge, glass windows letting in direct sunlight that rivals the (probably) expensive, designer lamps decorating the room. There’s a desk, which clearly serves as his working station, completed with an expensive desktop computer, a laptop propped up closer to his desk chair, files upon files and papers scattered on the glass table, as if he’s just stopped mid-working. On the side, a large dining table with multiple chairs lined on each side, used for conferences and, from what Yunho can decipher from the cutlery and glasses set on it, for lunchtime too. 

 

The colors of the room are nothing like what Yunho had imagined a dreary businessman’s office would look like - instead of dark, grey tones and industrial aesthetics, the colors are warm, pastel cremes, gentle brick orange and soft greens, completed with accents of vivid colors from the variety of plants settled comfortably in elaborate pots on the floor and on the walls. Said walls also display paintings, pictures and collages that add to the originality of the decor. 

 

“Your office is so nice,” Yunho murmurs, cursing himself for not choosing something better to say. But Seonghwa smiles, cheeks high and rosy. 

 

“I spend a ridiculous amount of hours here, it would be a shame to not customize it a bit to my liking,” he says, “It’s good to see you, Yunho.” 

 

“Mm, it’s good to see you, too.” 

 

Seonghwa squeezes his palm one last time before moving towards the dining table, dragging out one of the chairs and gesturing to Yunho to have a seat. There’s three sets of plates, all situated next to each other at one side of the table. It seems like Hongjoong will join them, after all. 

 

Once he sits, Seonghwa moves towards a small, pink fridge at the far end corner of the room, “What would you like to drink, dear? Water, soda, juice, wine, although it’s a bit early for alcohol but I do like to keep a bottle or two just in case…”  

 

“Soda is fine.” 

 

Seonghwa picks out three matching green-colored glasses from the cupboards on top of the fridge and begins pouring Yunho and himself their refreshments. At that moment, Ten comes in, holding two steaming plates full of delicious lunch that he places in front of the two men, “I take it you already met Ten,” Seonghwa speaks up, “Whenever you feel like visiting us, don’t be afraid to just ask for him down at the front desk: he’ll always take you to where we are, no matter how busy we might be.” 

 

The offer makes Yunho’s ears redden embarrassingly fast. “Right, sure.” 

 

With a kind smile, the personal assistant leaves them alone, the doors shutting tight behind him with a resounding thud. 

 

“Dig in,” Seonghwa prompts him, “Dance practice must have taken up a lot of your energy that you need to replenish.”

 

Yunho eats slowly, despite how hungry he feels. It’s not because he feels embarrassed; rather, he doesn’t only want to savor the food but drink in every little detail of his surroundings. His eyes land anywhere that isn’t Seonghwa, and he doesn’t realize how much time he’s spent averting his gaze until a hand wraps around his, shyly caressing the skin. It startles him a little, just enough for his fork to clink against the plate. 

 

“Is everything to your liking?” 

 

“Very much so,” Yunho replies, already out of breath. The suit Seonghwa is wearing stays free from any sort of stain despite the bubbling, spicy broth the man has chosen for his lunch. It’s a deep color, just a few shades away from the color of his raven black hair. The buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned right where the dip of his throat and his collarbones meet. 

 

They should talk about sex, Yunho thinks, in a situation where there’s no rhyme nor reason for him to be getting horny. 

 

But really, they should clarify what it would entail:  sex within this… agreement that the three of them are slowly finalizing? Making it official? Yunho takes another bite from the roasted meat, the sizzling food melting right away into his mouth. Do they even want to have sex with him? They mentioned in their profile that sexual relations would be discussed upon meeting, if the two parties were interested. And well, Yunho is very much interested, he decides as he looks at Seonghwa’s neck once again, the soft skin that peeks underneath his clothes and holds the promise of so much more.  

 

“You’re getting fucked during lunch break?”  Wooyoung’s voice rings in his ears. 

 

They should probably talk about this when Hongjoong arrives. If he does, that is. 

 

Seonghwa’s hand hasn’t left his, he realizes. He takes a look at it, the way Seonghwa’s fingers are splayed over the top of his hand. 

 

There’s a dazzling yet simple wedding band wrapped around Seonghwa’s ring finger. 

 

“Ah, I’m finally here!” A distant voice sounds from the door - Yunho zeroes in on his food when he realizes that the voice belongs to Hongjoong - his meeting must have ended, according to what Ten had told him when he first arrived here. “I’m told I have two pretty men at my disposal for lunch, is that true?” 

 

Yunho sees Seonghwa rolling his eyes, but the blush on his cheeks betrays just how much Hongjoong’s flamboyant flattery affects him. “The two pretty men were too hungry to wait for you, darling.” 

 

“But of course, I wouldn’t want our Yunho here to get hungry.” 

 

When Hongjoong finally shows up in his field of vision, he’s wearing loose-fitting pants and a big sweater that almost swallows him whole - it’s colorful loungewear that’s more suited for a stay-at-home husband than a businessman. Then again, Hongjoong probably doesn’t have an office like Seonghwa does. 

 

Hongjoong approaches them, leaning into Seonghwa’s embrace and pressing his lips into his husband’s, sealing them into a kiss that sounds wet and more than likely feels sticky and warm. Yunho grips his glass and tries not to show how much he’d love to be the one in the middle of this seemingly insignificant, marital ritual. 

 

“I accidentally took your hair tie this morning,” Hongjoong whispers, taking it off his wrist and immediately threading his fingers through his husband’s hair - Seonghwa’s hair is certainly fluffy and luscious, its ends touching his nape. But Yunho hadn’t realized its true power until Hongjoong carefully scoops it into a short ponytail, revealing a hidden undercut that takes up the bottom half of his scalp, easily hidden by his long hair on top. “There we go.” 

 

“Thank you,” Seonghwa murmurs bashfully. 

 

After this, Hongjoong takes a seat next to Yunho this time, “How was the uhm, the meeting?” Yunho asks. 

 

“Interesting,” Hongjoong says after a moment, “It’s one of the most boring parts of my job and certainly not the reason why I do what I do. But sometimes, things work out well and I can feel that we’ve made progress.” 

 

The three of them talk about work for a while - well, Seonghwa and Hongjoong do most of the talking, explaining the various parts of their daily work lives. Yunho settles for commenting on how pretty their offices are, and Hongjoong goes on a five-minute rant about how Seonghwa was actually the one who worked closely with their designer.

 

 “My husband  has an eye for beauty,” he chuckles when he says that, and for some reason, eyes Yunho up and down. 

 

“I’m so happy you came,” he tells him after they’ve halfway done with their lunch, one arm rubbing up and down Yunho’s. “We were going to call you once the work day was over, but you beat us to it, it seems. It’s like we’re gravitating towards each other, mm? It’s great that you reached out to us.” 

 

Yunho nods, “I’m glad I did. I really like spending time with you. I hesitated at first, just because I didn’t want to disturb you from your schedules. You’re much more busy than I am.” 

 

“Just like we can seek you out, you can do so too, Yunho,” Hongjoong assures him. “All of us are busy and work hard, and yes, that includes you too, don’t undermine your hard work simply because you’re not working yet.” A hand comes up to pinch Yunho’s cheek, and Yunho almost chokes at his food. 

 

“Let’s use our time together to refresh our spirits and relax. There’s no reason to feel uptight around us, Yunho,” Seonghwa adds. 

 

It’s late afternoon, and the sky has already begun to set - yellow, orange and pink, muted colors filter through the curtains in front of the glass windows. He has a little less than an hour until he has to get back to his university building for class. A little less than an hour to spend with them.

 

“Do you seek something in me, though?” the words leave his mouth without giving them much through, mouth moving to shape the words that feel foreign on his tongue. He plays with his fingers underneath the table, staring at his hands and his black leggings. 

 

He doesn’t hear an answer right away, and in his panic, he finally looks up - both men are staring at him, expressions hard to decipher. 

 

“Do you,” he begins again, anxiety bleeding out. That’s what he always does when he gets anxious, just opens his mouth and keeps on talking, even if it’s exhausting. “Am I a simple dinner date? A companion?” Words upon words spill out of his mouth, and he’s not sure if he’s following the right path in pursuit of what he really wants. 

 

“We seek you,” Hongjoong speaks up, his voice low and commanding all of his attention. A hand comes up to rest near Yunho’s waist, palm reaching to engulf as much softness as possible. “We want you, Yunho. And everything that encompasses your being. Everything you wish to give us.”

 

“If you wish to remain a simple dinner date with no strings attached, that’s perfectly fine, too.” Seonghwa says, although his eyes are dark and his voice is deep and heavy as it rumbles out of his chest. “Is that what you want?” 

 

Yunho gulps, “No, not just that.” 

 

“Something more? Do you want more, Yunho?” Hongjoong whispers, so close to his ear that Yunho can feel his breath against his skin, sensitive goosebumps responding to the stimulation. 

 

“I want,” he begins, feigning confidence, “I want you both.” 

 

“So simple in your requests,” Hongjoong laughs, and from the corner of his eye Yunho sees Seonghwa purse his plump lips to hide his smile, “No specifications, no terms and conditions?” 

 

Yunho grunts in frustration, turning to Seonghwa, “Is your husband always so snarky?” 

 

The surprise on Seonghwa’s face is enough for Hongjoong to start laughing loudly, cackling right into Yunho’s ear, and Yunho ends up laughing and relaxing a little too. 

 

Suddenly, his phone pings loudly with a notification - a reminder that his class is starting in thirty minutes. 

 

“I need to get going soon,” he says wistfully, regret showing in his voice. “I can’t be late for my class.” 

 

“Did you finish your lunch?” Seonghwa asks him, eyeing his plate suspiciously, “I can pack some leftovers for you if you’d like.” 

 

Yunho looks at his plate - there’s still a substantial amount of food left, and even though he’s not hungry by any means now, he knows he’s going to regret it later if he declines. He’s learnt that the hard way, “Yeah, I’d like that,” he says bashfully. 

 

They walk to the kitchenette once again, but this time Seonghwa doesn’t call for Ten or another assistant to pack Yunho’s lunch. Hongjoong searches through the fridge for some refreshments, and Yunho can’t do much other than simply stand there, witnessing the two men work silently but in coordination in the kitchen. They don’t talk at all - but a hand on the waist or a small pat on the shoulder and Seonghwa knows to bring down straws from the cupboard to pair with the refreshments, and Hongjoong knows to stand a little to the left so that Seonghwa can take out a paper bag and place the tupperware inside. 

 

Suddenly, Yunho feels like an intruder. This is what the couple probably looks like during the mornings they spend in their kitchen. In their home. 

 

Seonghwa even took off his blazer and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, muscles flexing underneath. 

 

Yunho doesn’t even realize that Hongjoong is standing next to him, too immersed in the image of the man so intensely focused in the kitchen, with his hair tied up nonetheless. “Ah, I know,” Hongjoong’s voice makes him jump, but when Yunho turns to look at him, he’s crossed his arms in front of his chest, a dreamy look in his eyes. He sighs, leaning his head against Yunho’s arm, “He looks so good, working in the kitchen, right? He’s an amazing cook, too.” 

 

“Is he?” Yunho’s throat is dry, eyes fixed on the redness blooming on Seonghwa’s knuckles while he grips the ladle to pour the food in the tupperware. 

 

“Mmm, he cooks for me sometimes when we get the time,” Hongjoong confirms, dragging his arm down Yunho’s back until he can side-hug him from his waist again, “Y’know, his cooking is great, but his breakfast is out of this world.” 

 

“Really…” Yunho whispers. 

 

“I bet he’d love to make us breakfast one day,” Hongjoong murmurs, “Sweet or savory?” 

 

“Sweet…” Yunho admits, “I, uhm, I like pancakes.” 

 

“I’ll make sure he remembers.” 

 

Once his leftovers are packed and sealed with the utmost care by Seonghwa, the three of them make their way down the elevator to the ground floor once again. It’s far from silent - Hongjoong shows him around the decor; large, high definition pictures of runways and articles, awards and accolades are mounted on the walls. They don’t have enough time for the designer to get into detail, but Hongjoong’s excitement is enough for Yunho to understand that the designer is very passionate about his creations. 

 

Multiple pairs of eyes follow them as the three finally enter the ground floor and walk towards the exit, passing by the front desk. Some of them, most likely employees, scramble to gather their things and busy themselves, breaking apart from their chattering coworkers at the sight of their bosses waltzing past them. As if he’s being escorted, Seonghwa and Hongjoong both have each hand settled at the small of his back, their fingertips almost meeting over his sweater. 

 

“The sun is almost down now,” Seonghwa notices once they get outside, “Are you sure you don’t feel cold? I can lend you a coat if you’d like, Ten can get it for you in a matter of minutes-” 

 

“It’s alright,” Yunho assures him, enjoying the feeling of Seonghwa’s palms rubbing up and down his arms in an attempt to warm him up. “I don’t have to walk that far anyways…” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “This was fun!” 

 

Hongjoong breaks into a smile, and Seonghwa’s eyes become starlit once again, “It was lovely. Please know that you’re always welcome to barge into our offices whenever you feel like it. Honestly. I’ve already told Ten to just let you in regardless of how much work I have.” Seonghwa says. 

 

“That’s a great privilege, Jeong Yunho,” Hongjoong teases him, “There’s only one other person who shares such an advantage over the great workaholic Park Seonghwa,” for effect, he does a twirl and puts his hands in the air for extra dazzle, “Other than I, that is!” 

 

And Yunho can’t help but giggle, despite the people that stare at them as they shout and laugh on the street. The two men move closer towards him, almost giving him a hug, telling him that he’s going to get cold if he keeps standing here and that he’ll miss his class. 

 

“Ah, I almost forgot!” Seonghwa suddenly speaks up, “There’s an upcoming PR event at the end of next week, hosted by this social media company that wants to approach high-end brands for possible cross-promotions and collaborations. If your schedule isn’t packed, would you care to join us as our plus one?” 

 

“Me?” 

 

“Yes, silly,” Hongjoong laughs, patting his head, “But don’t feel obliged to accept our invitation-” 

 

“I want to be with you,” Yunho clarifies, and his cheeks redden at how determined his voice sounds. The looks on their faces are worth it, however, “So I accept your invitation.” 

 

“No skipping class or assignments,” Seonghwa clarifies, “I’ll text you the details and if you’re free, I’ll be elated to have you join us, mm?” For good measure, or for persuasive purposes, Seonghwa leans in and brushes his thumb over Yunho’s cheekbone, cradling his cheek tenderly. 

 

“Sure-” Yunho begins to say. 

 

Then Seonghwa leans in, and kisses his cheek. 

 

A soft, silent smooch. 

 

Then Hongjoong stands on his tip-toes and repeats the action on his other cheek. 

 

“Will you text either of us when you get to your class?” 

 

All Yunho can do is nod, dumbfounded and cheeks flaming, the ghostly sensations of each man’s lips lingering on his cheeks.  






San ends up arriving a few minutes late to their first afternoon class - still, the lecture hasn’t started yet, and San is all but delighted to squish himself in the small seat next to Yunho’s, shoulders rubbing together.

 

“You do not look as disheveled as I was expecting you to be,” San finally says, quietly, mouthing the words behind his bag that’s settled on his desk. 

 

“Were you both expecting me to just waltz into a foreign building and fuck on a desk or something?” Yunho whispers, hiding his face in his arms. 

 

“What, did you two just have lunch together in his office?” 

 

“Actually yeah,” Yunho huffs proudly, “Hongjoong came too. We had lunch and talked about their work and my schedule.” 

 

“Riveting,” San rolls his eyes, “Didn’t they mention anything else? Any progress in your relationship?” 

 

Yunho hesitates for a moment, “They kissed me on the cheek?” 

 

“Aww.” 

 

“And I was invited to accompany them to an event next week.” 

 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” San almost shouts, and several pairs of eyes turn to look at them, “There it is, you’re slowly starting to live the high life.” 

 

“Let’s just hope I have no deadlines for next week so that I can go with them…” Yunho murmurs to himself, just in time for their professor to finally turn around and set up the projector. 

 

He reaches into his bag to mute his phone for the remainder of the lecture, but it pings right at that moment, a Nectar notification flashing across the screen. It’s anything but a direct message, however. 

 

“What is it?” San asks. 

 

“They just PayPal’d me actual money.” 

 

“For real?” San leans in, looking at his phone screen. 

 

It’s not an outrageous sum of money - like they’d discussed, it feels more like an allowance, enough for groceries and a few extra things. An amount of money his parents would have given him when he was young for the rest of the month, to spend on movie tickets, food and drinks. A sum that doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable, or make him feel like he’s leeching off of them. 

 

There’s mixed feelings swimming in his stomach, but Yunho ignores them for the time being and mutes his phone completely, allowing himself to pay attention to the lecture. 







“Wait, can you do that one more time? I think I’m missing a step in the sequence,” Wooyoung says once he stops the music. 

 

It’s a week later - the weather is shitty and cold but at least the central heating is doing its job at warming the three boys up as they practice and figure out the choreography for the end of the semester presentation. The three of them had run towards each other before their instructor had the chance to assign them to different teams, and ever since then they had been practicing tirelessly, taking advantage of what little time they could find between their packed schedules for weekly rehearsals. 

 

“It’s one… two…. three…” Yunho goes over the step sequence slowly, Wooyoung’s eyes intensely focusing on his legs, “Before the turn, you need to extend your leg a bit more-” 

 

“Ah, okay, okay!” Wooyoung rushes to say, copying Yunho’s movements and marking the spots on the floor.

 

San is sat on the floor right next to them, tying the longer tips of his pink hair into a small, bean-sprout ponytail. “Can we go get some food later? I didn’t eat a big lunch.” 

 

“It’s like… pissing rain right now,” Wooyoung complains, sitting close to the window and peeking out of the curtain. “We can order take-out.” 

 

“But there’s this cute place I wanted to go…” San pouts, “It’s not far from here.” 

 

Yunho watches as Wooyoung rolls his eyes and gets on the floor, sliding towards San and wrapping his arms around him, “Alright, but I hope you’re ready to share an umbrella with me because I’ve lost mine and Yunho is too tall for proper umbrella sharing.” 

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yunho squints his eyes. 

 

“You’re too tall! You hold the umbrella too high up and I always end up getting drenched!” 

 

An hour later and they’re dressing up, covering their thin workout clothes in layers upon layers of sweaters and scarves and coats. They make sure to switch off the lights of the practice room with the goal to make their way to San’s designated eatery for the night - but just before exiting the front doors of the building, Yunho’s phone rings. 

 

“Yunho!” 

 

“Hongjoong?” he gasps when he hears the man’s voice through the phone. Wooyoung and San turn to look at him at the same time, like a bunch of meerkats. “Hi? What’s, what’s happening?” 

 

“Very busy, I’m on my sixth coffee of the day-” 

 

“That sounds so unhealthy…” 

 

“Perhaps… Anyways, do you think you could come by the offices today? There’s something for you to pick up at the front desk. I’ll make sure Ten is there so he can explain the details for Friday.”  

 

Yunho pouts, “Something for me? What is it?” 

 

Hongjoong giggles, “I might have made a little something for you to wear for the event. That is, if you want to wear it. But I think it’ll suit you perfectly.” 

 

“For me?” 

 

“Yes, for you, baby.” 

 

Baby. Baby. Baby, Baby. “I-I can come get it now. Is that okay?” Yunho asks, hoping his cheeks don’t look as red as they feel. 

 

“More than okay. I’ll make sure it’s ready for you to pick it up.”  

 

“Will you be there too?” he asks, shyly but full of hope. 

 

Hongjoong’s sigh makes his heart twist, “Unfortunately not, Yunho, I’m sorry. I’m at a workshop out of town - even if I left now, it would take me at least five hours to get back in the city, and that’s not counting traffic. And it’s a two-day workshop - I’m not scheduled to come back until the day after tomorrow.”  

 

“Oh, okay,” Yunho gulps. 

 

There’s an awkward pause between them - Hongjoong’s soft, breathy sounds don’t do much other than make Yunho feel even more weird about being so needy. He doesn’t even know the two of them that well, and he’s already attached. 

 

A voice calling Hongjoong echoes from the other end of the line, “I have to go, Yunho. I’m sorry-”  

 

“No, no, it’s okay. I understand. I have to drop by and get my package, and I’m already late for dinner, so- uh, yeah. Thank you, Hongjoong. Thank you for-” 

 

“You haven’t even seen the outfit yet, silly,” Hongjoong laughs, “You should see it first and then thank me if you like it. Text me, or call me, whatever you want.”  

 

“I’m sure I’ll like it,” Yunho says confidently, “Have a nice evening, Hongjoong. And thank you again.” 

 

“You too, Yunho. Can’t wait to see you when I’m back.” 

 

When Yunho finally hangs up, Wooyoung and San are staring at him with utmost curiosity, huddled underneath their umbrella. It’s pouring rain, and Yunho’s stomach growls for food. 

 

“Can we stop by somewhere else first? I have to get something.” 







The box has dark matte finish, a black sleek color, with vibrant splashes of paint shining on top, textured as if the box was customized on the spot. The brand’s name, ‘Aurora’ , is printed in the middle, along with a messily hand-written note right underneath, ‘For Jeong Yunho’. 

 

“How good is your relationship with heels?” Ten asks him as Yunho cradles the box in his hands like the holy grail. 

 

“I-I’d say, good enough?” Yunho mumbles, “I like wearing them, but I haven’t in a while, and I might need some practice.” 

 

“Is two days enough practice for you?” 

 

“Sure…” 

 

Just then, the personal assistant produces another box from behind the front desk, “I was told to provide two options for shoes, even though the outfit is best suited with heels. These are sturdy enough. Is this your size?” 

 

“Yeah-” 

 

“Great!” Ten smiles at him as he stacks another box on top of the first one, and Yunho stumbles at the sudden weight in his arms, “You’re going to be picked up an hour before the event starts,” he explains - the man has definite dark circles under his eyes, illuminated by the glaring light of his iPad screen, but that doesn’t falter him from being on his toes, “Now, you can either come here, or give me an address of your choice from where we can pick you up. Weather’s going to be bad, and I really don’t want you walking around in heels in the rain.” 

 

Thinking about it for a moment, Yunho gives Ten the address of his dorm building - if he’s going to have a solid relationship (based on transactions, of course) with the married couple, they might as well know where he lives. 

 

“Good, I’ll make note of -” Ten looks past Yunho, squinting his eyes behind his glasses, “Are those two your friends?” 

 

Yunho whips his head back in terror, only to be met with the sight of San and Wooyoung pressing their faces into the glass wall, their warm breaths fogging it up. 

 

“Y-yeah, they’re just - we were supposed to get dinner, I told them to wait outside.” 

 

Ten raises his brow, “Okay, but next time just tell them to come inside if you’re going to stay here for longer. We’ve got hot chocolate and everything, they must be freezing outside.” 

 

“Ah, I’ll remember that…” Yunho says in gratitude, sneaking looks at his two friends, who are now pushing against each other for a better look through the glass. 

 

Of course, the three bicker throughout the entire ten minute walk to the small, hole-in-the-wall ramen place San has picked for the night. The place is tiny, with only three tables surrounding the kitchen - the spicy, warm smell of the boiling broths lures them in, a refuge amidst the pouring rain and the cold. There’s lanterns all over the ceiling, and space heaters next to every table.  There’s no other customers at this hour, but the owner is a kind, old man who offers them scalding cups of alcohol to warm their hands and throats up until their bowls arrive.

 

“Open it up,” Wooyoung says, ignoring how he’s still shivering, huddled close to San, “I wanna see what he made for you.” 

 

“Can we eat first-” Yunho protests. 

 

“No,” Wooyoung insists, “You made me carry the damn boxes all the way here-”



“You’re the only one who’s not holding an umbrella-”

 

Their ramen arrives in steaming bowls - the owner places them with gentle ‘clinks’ on the table, and quickly recedes to the back room, allowing the three boys their privacy. Hunger takes over their arguing and they spend an adequate amount of time silently eating, until their cheeks get red from the steam and the spicy broth and their bodies feel like jelly with warmth. 

 

‘Aurora’ ,” San reads the top of the box while Yunho gently removes the perfumed tissue paper wrapped around the clothing. It’s packaged as if it’s a gift, almost. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that brand before. Very up-and-coming and innovative.” 

 

Wooyoung pulls out his phone to google the brand, but Yunho doesn’t pay them much attention after opening the box. After carefully unwrapping the outfit from the tissue paper (because he’s damn sure it’s expensive as fuck), he runs his fingers over the fabric for the first time, mouth parting slightly in surprise. 

 

The top is made by see-through, pastel pink-colored mesh - embroidered black thread creates shapes of constellations, phrases and messy illustrations, as if they’re pulled straight out of someone’s personal journal. The sleeves are long but the hem of the shirt seems to stop right underneath the chest, curving around the area of the ribs and exposing the entirety of the torso and stomach. 

 

The skirt is similarly colored, high-waisted, made of thicker fabric that’s also embroidered with similar illustrations like the matching top - it looks like it’s form fitting around his hips, long enough to maybe reach past his knees. 

 

The glaring difference to any skirt similar to this, is that the sides have slits to them, fabric held together by buckles that still show quite a bit of skin. Up until the middle of his thighs, it seems. 

 

“Wooyoungie, look at this!” San exclaims once he notices the clothes Hongjoong specifically made for Yunho (and if that thought alone isn’t enough to light Yunho’s insides on fire like ignited gasoline), “These are so fucking cool, Yunho!” 

 

“Mmmhm,” Yunho makes a strangled noise from the back of his throat. The clothes look expensive, cool, stylish and daring. He’s both shy and excited to wear them and parade them around, but, more importantly, a fire is already brewing at the bottom of his stomach at the thought of the married couple seeing him dressed like that. For them.  

 

There’s another smaller box next to the clothes, containing a set of one pearl earring and a matching choker made of pearls and daisy charms. Instinctively, he reaches to touch the sole earring hanging from his right ear - had Hongjoong noticed that too? 

 

While his two friends look over the clothes (“Be careful how you touch them, don’t get them stained I’m begging you!”), he reaches for the box containing his shoes - a pair of pvc leather boots with slim heels and square toes.

 

His phone pings with a text. 

 

I’m sorry I couldn’t talk much during our phone call. I hope you like the clothes - I’m sure they’ll look stunning on you. Seonghwa also wanted me to tell you that he was the one who chose the jewelry for you. We can’t wait to see you :)

 

Without giving it much thought, Yunho changes the earring on his ear for the pearl one, clipping it in place with satisfaction. Then, he takes a close-up picture of his ear and the side of his cheek, and sends it back to Hongjoong. 

 

Everything is so beautiful, Hongjoong. Your clothes are beautiful and I’m very grateful!  

 

It only takes a few seconds before Hongjoong replies. 

 

Dumpling :) 

 

“You look so red right now,” Wooyoung lets out a cackle, “Lucky little sugar baby, you know you’re so fucking spoiled, right?”

 

“Maybe…” Yunho murmurs, trying to hide his face in his ramen. 

 

Once they’re done with their dinner, Yunho proudly announces that he’s going to treat them this time - Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s money was spent on covering phone bills, and the rush of leftover cash was something he couldn’t resist. Plus, the looks on his friends’ faces are definitely worth it. 






It’s Thursday evening, a day before the PR event, when Yunho gets a text from Seonghwa this time. At first, he doesn’t spare a glance to his vibrating cellphone, way too concentrated with having to figure out how the newly installed washing machines work in the shared laundromat of his dorms. 

 

With an empty basket held close to his hip and a substantial amount of laundry spinning away in the washing machine, Yunho finally checks his phone. 

 

Good evening Yunho. Are you too busy for a phone call?

 

“Seonghwa?” Yunho says once the man answers the phone, panting as he climbs up the stairs with his empty basket, “Hi, good evening, no I’m not busy, what’s up?” Wooyoung doesn’t call him a puppy for no reason, after all. 

 

But despite Yunho’s welcoming tone of his voice, Seonghwa sounds oddly… detached, “Yunho,” he says, reserved from the usual warmth he displays, “Everything alright? Are you busy?” 

 

It sounds like Yunho should be the one asking that question. 

 

“Yeah everything’s good. I’m done with classes for the day, just lazing around. Seonghwa...” Yunho replies, walking through the empty hallways of his buildings. It’s a quiet evening, one of the few nights without course work to finish. “Are you okay? You sound a bit… off.” 

 

“I-I,” he hears Seonghwa stutter, and he’s not sure why his heart freezes at the sound, “Just having a bit of a weird night. If I’m not distracting you, or interrupting with anything… Would you like to come spend some time with me?” he pauses for a moment, “Come over and watch a movie... or something like that…”  

 

As much as Yunho wants to lose himself in the possibilities of such a suggestion, Seonghwa’s voice sounds so sad and small that his first instinct is to do everything in his power to comfort him. 

 

“Of course, of course I can come over. Are you at your place alone?” 

 

He hears Seonghwa mumble affirmatively, “Hongjoong’s coming back tomorrow morning. I already talked to him… he said it would be a nice idea to call you and spend some time with you. Instead of being just by myself.” 

 

“It’s no problem, I want to come over,” Yunho assures him, “Really, Seonghwa. Not just because you’re asking me to, okay. I want to see you.” 

 

“Okay…” Seonghwa sighs, sounding like he’s sniffling, “I can send a car to pick you up. Is that okay with you?” 

 

“That’s fine. I gave Ten my address yesterday…” 

 

“Great, okay, I’ll wait for you then. And Yunho,” Seonghwa takes a deep breath, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

 

“You have nothing to thank me for, Seonghwa. See you in a bit, okay?” 

 

“Mmm, okay.” 






Yunho gets a cryptic text from an unknown number saying “Here~” half an hour later that makes him grab his bag and run down the stairs almost tripping on his ass twice. When he finally exits his dorm building, there’s a black Mercedes waiting for him right in front of the entrance, lights flashing to get his attention. 

 

Praying that he’s not about to get kidnapped, he’s ultimately relieved to see Ten waving at him from the driver’s seat. He giggles a little when he realizes the man is wearing his pajamas and soft headband with cat ears pushing his hair back. 

 

“I wasn’t going to send a random driver per Mr. Park’s request when I found out it was you, but I’m not going to change out of my pajamas either, so excuse the less than professional outfit.”

 

Yunho sits at the front seat, secretly wiggling his ass over the comfy, expensive leather seats. Ten puts on a playlist of soft pop songs and they begin their journey, the car rumbling as it takes off. Yunho leans his head against the window, and sighs. 

 

Five minutes later, the thought occurs to him to ask, “Uh, how far is it?” 

 

“About a forty minute ride,” Ten says. “You can sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up when it’s time.” 

 

Yunho wants to tell him that it’s not even seven o’ clock yet and he’s far from sleepy, but he’s dawned with the realization of the situation: he’s going to visit Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house for the first time. 

 

He looks at the sweatpants and hoodie he hastily put on. The cross-body bag he brought, carrying only the essentials. 

 

“H-hey, does Seonghwa like sweets?” 

 

Ten cocks his eyebrow, “Yeah.” 

 

“Can we stop by someplace around here? I just - I can’t go there empty-handed!” 

 

The man thinks about it for a moment, “I can take you to his favorite french patisserie. It should still be open at this hour, but we might have to rush, is that alright with you?” 

 

“Sure!” Yunho says anxiously, holding onto the sides of his seat when Ten hits the gas, the car rumbling as it revs up. 

 

The french patisserie ends up being ten minutes away, and Yunho rushes in so quickly that he doesn’t realize Ten has followed him in his pajamas and a pair of sunglasses. 

 

“He likes the cream-filled ones,” he helps him, pointing towards the section Yunho is supposed to look. 

 

Left alone in his devices, Yunho picks out a few chouquettes tropeziennes, a few vanilla flavored eclairs and a selection of fruity tartelettes. He asks the man at the cashier for pretty packaging and even pays for everything with his own money - paying for sugar-filled treats for his sugar daddy with the money his sugar daddies gave him, now that’s a mouthful. 

 

To his surprise, Ten has also bought something, “You’re not the only one with a date tonight,” he tells Yunho as they get into the car again, and Yunho remains silent for the remainder of the ride. 

 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s house is situated in the outskirts of the city, right along the river, where the buildings get shorter compared to the skyscrapers of the centre, with luxurious pools and luscious gardens. The building Ten pulls up to looks more like a condo, instead of the big, expensive mansion he imagined. Still, Yunho can’t help but gasp at how expensive and well-kept everything looks around this neighborhood. 

 

Ten parks the car in front of the compound and leads Yunho to the main entrance, “It’s the penthouse at the top floor,” he tells him, “I’ve already sent him a text, so you won’t have to wait for him to buzz you in. And text me in case you’re not planning on staying the night. Have fun!” 

 

Yunho clutches onto the patisserie bags and mumbles a shy goodbye. He doesn’t wait to hear for the car pulling away before he’s rushing towards the elevator. It doesn’t take too long for him to reach the top floor, and he even shares it with a young woman who awkwardly but genuinely smiles at him and his bakery bag. Soon enough, he’s standing in front of Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s front door. 

 

Seonghwa immediately buzzes him in, “Hey, Yunho…” the man says - his face looks tired and kind of weary, but he looks like he’s honestly happy to see him. He’s wrapped in a thick-knitted cardigan that’s a few sizes too big for him and he’s wearing his round-framed glasses, pinkish eyes looking droopy behind them. “Glad you could make it. Don’t stand there, come inside, make yourself comfortable.” 

 

Yunho nods and takes his shoes off by the entrance - the penthouse is open and spacious, huge glass windows taking up the entire opposite wall, serving a gorgeous view of the cityscape at night and the river. It feels cozy and has similar decor to Seonghwa’s office, with vibrant colors on the walls, the couches, the pillows. There’s paintings on the walls and photographs of the couple together, some of which they had included on their Nectar profile. It’s lived-in. And it makes Yunho’s heart flutter. 

 

“These are for you,” he tells Seonghwa after following him in the couples’ well-equipped kitchen, presenting the patisserie bag. “Admittedly, Ten helped me pick out-” 

 

There’s no room for him to finish his sentence, because Seonghwa is already squishing him into a tight hug, face hiding in Yunho’s neck and arms wrapped around his waist. It’s a good thing he set down that bag on the counter, Yunho thinks while his hands tremble as they touch Seonghwa’s broad back, completing the hug, “H-hey-” 

 

“Darling,” Seonghwa lets out in one breath, voice shaky, “Oh, you’re so sweet. So, so sweet.” 

 

“I-it’s eclairs, and fruit tarts, and some cream puffs with a weird french name that I can’t remember-” is all Yunho can muster, until he surrenders into the hug in silence, patting Seonghwa’s back and rubbing it comfortingly, “Is everything okay? You uhm, you look a bit shaken up.” 

 

“Rough day, that’s all…” Seonghwa murmurs in his neck. 

 

“At work?” 

 

“No…” he sighs, “Everything’s fine with work. Just, family stuff. Sometimes it’s bad and sometimes it’s worse. Nothing important.” 

 

“I can’t be less than important if you’re shaken up like this…” 

 

Seonghwa just holds onto him tighter. 

 

“We-we don’t have to talk about anything. I’m not entitled to know any of your problems, or-or demand an explanation, Seonghwa, okay?” Yunho assures him, voice less than confident if he’s choosing the right words. 

 

“I’m not weak.” Seonghwa speaks up, slowly pulling away from the tight embrace but still keeping his hands around Yunho’s waist. “I can usually deal with stuff like this on my own. But, I talked with Hongjoong earlier… he could tell I was a bit shaken up, and he told me to call you. That he was sure I would feel better if I was with you. That you’d definitely find a way to have fun with me.” 

 

Yunho gives him an encouraging smile, “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? You said you wanted us to watch a movie?” 

 

Seonghwa clears his throat. He reaches up to rub his eyes behind his glasses, and Yunho’s heart twists, “I was about to make some pop-corn and grab a bottle of wine… but your pastries-” 

 

“We don’t have to eat them now-” 

 

“But I want to!” 

 

“Okay, so, sweets and popcorn?” 

 

“Sounds good to me,” Seonghwa says with a pout, sadness slowly leaving his face. 

 

Yunho chuckles at that, a soft “cute” escaping his lips. 

 

The smile on Seonghwa’s lips is worth the embarrassment. 

 

They end up on the largest couch in the living-room, the one that’s stacked with pillows and even has a blanket to throw over themselves, the one that sits opposite of the big, sleek TV screen. Seonghwa places the wine in the champagne bucket to keep it cool and then brings freshly-made, buttery popcorn that makes the room smell like a cinema theatre. 

 

Yunho settles on the couch under the blanket and Seonghwa dims the lights, until only the screen and the reflection of the city lights on the glass windows are illuminating the room. They huddle close together, shoulders rubbing and knees bumping into each other. 

 

“Have you ever seen the Star Wars movies?” 

 

“No,” Yunho says casually, mouth full of popcorn. At Seonghwa’s glaring expression, he gulps the mouthful in fear, “What?” 

 

“You’ve never seen Star Wars? How have you missed out on the greatest franchise of this era’s cultural zeitgeist?” 

 

“I don’t know, I’ve just never seen them… Are you a fan?” Instead of responding, Seonghwa points to a specific area at the opposite wall - shelves of what Yunho assumes to be large models of spacecrafts and figurines of the series. “You’re a big fan,” he concludes, smiling, “Wanna watch them now? I don’t mind…” 

 

“I was planning on watching the prequels, because even though they’re the worst in the series, they make me laugh. But now, if I show them to you, you’re going to think the entire series is like this, and that’s the sort of slander I won’t be able to tolerate-”   

“It’s fine,” Yunho laughs, “C’mon, you said they make you happy.” 

 

Seonghwa ends up putting on the first movie in the prequel saga - his commentary is prominent, but it doesn’t distract Yunho from the movie as much as the intense need he feels to cuddle up to him. As the movie plays on, the popcorns disappear and so do most of the patisserie sweets (which were delicious, Yunho thinks as he licks his fingers from the excess cream), and the two of them begin leaning closer to each other. 

 

It doesn’t help that there’s barely any action scenes - Yunho’s mind begins drifting to the way Seonghwa’s arms held him in his embrace, how they wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tightly. How he could feel the man’s breath near his throat, his nose tracing along the skin of his nape and his plush lips bumping into his collarbone as he spoke. 

 

Without realizing it, he’s taken Seonghwa’s hand into his underneath the blanket, threading their fingers together. 

 

Seonghwa stops mid-sentence explaining the race scene they’re about to watch, mouth parted open at the feeling of Yunho’s palm against his. Yunho refuses to take his eyes off the screen, but can’t help but squeeze Seonghwa’s hand, as if to confirm that he wants this. And so, Seonghwa continues. 

 

The movie drags on to the point where Yunho’s starting to get sleepy, both because of the wine and the food and because the movie is slow as hell. But Seonghwa’s voice is low and tickles his ears in the best kind of way, he thinks as he leans his head against Seonghwa’s shoulder while ignoring his inhibitions. 

 

“You seem better,” he whispers softly to Seonghwa, who’s stopped rambling in favor of consuming an eclair. “When I came here, you looked like you had been crying.” 

 

Seonghwa tightens his jaw, but doesn’t say anything.

“I-I get that we don’t know each other that well. But the first day we met, you were there for me when I spoke to you two about the difficulties I was facing. What I’m saying is, you can lean on me too, right?” he turns to find Seonghwa already looking at him. His big eyes are full of stars, long black hair framing his face and making him look so much softer and younger than when he’s at work. “Both you and Hongjoong. I’m also here for you, not-not just the other way around. Okay?” 

 

Seonghwa gulps. And then he nods, face resembling a baby animal, and Yunho smiles. 

 

And then, Seonghwa leans up and presses their lips together. 

 

They’re soft , so soft as they kiss his lips, hands sneaking around Yunho’s waist to pull him closer and taking a deep breath, as if to dive deeper into this feeling, and fuck, Seonghwa kisses so well, Yunho thinks a whimper escapes him, but he doesn’t have enough time to dwell on that because Seonghwa takes a breath and kisses him again, their noses bumping into each other. 

 

When it’s finally over and Seonghwa pulls back, his plump lips look swollen and reddish. Yunho’s mouth feels like it’s even redder. 

 

“I- was that okay? I didn’t-” 

 

“It was okay, more than okay,” Yunho assures a panicked Seonghwa, “I…” he tries to form a coherent sentence, but he’s too overwhelmed, lips still numb from the foreign sensation of kissing Seonghwa. It feels like he’s stuck in limbo after finally reaching a culminating hill, and what he needs is some grounding. Without saying anything else, he hides his face in Seonghwa’s neck, holding onto him and silently begging for an embrace. 

 

When the pair of arms finally close around him and squeeze, Yunho sighs in relief. 

 

They don’t talk much after that for the remainder of the movie. They stay in this position, cuddling, and Seonghwa sometimes speaks up to explain things in the movie with short, whispery sentences, even though they both know Yunho hasn’t been following the plot for a while now. But it’s fine, it’s more than okay - it’s enough for them to sit like this together, enjoying each other’s presence. 

 

They don’t kiss anymore either; Yunho’s too shy to make a move, and Seonghwa simply presses his lips against his forehead a few times. And that’s enough, too. 

 

When the movie finally ends, it’s nearing midnight, “I-I have class in the morning,” Yunho mumbles, looking at the reminder on his phone, “‘N then, I have to get ready for the event-” 

 

Seonghwa’s hand comes up to stroke his hair, moving downwards to cup his cheek, and Yunho almost melts at the touch, “I’ll call for a driver to take you home. It’s very late, and even though Ten has an amazing work ethic I’m not going to wake him up and force him to leave his boyfriend in the middle of the night.” 

 

“Mmm.” 

 

“Thank you, Yunho,” Seonghwa tells him, holding his hand all the way to the front door of the penthouse once the driver arrives, “You have no idea how much it means to me that you came.” 

 

“I had fun,” Yunho assures him with a sleepy smile, mind still stuck to the way Seonghwa’s lips felt on his. Would it be too rash to ask for a goodnight kiss at the door? “I-I like you, Seonghwa.” 

 

“I like you too, Yunho,” Seonghwa says, cupping Yunho’s cheek, “Hongjoong likes you, too. So, so much.” 

 

“Mmm.” 

 

“Mmm,” Seonghwa mumbles, and gives him a soft kiss on the lips again. It’s like pulses of electricity through Yunho’s tired body, sparks flying into his stomach and waking him up, “Sleep well, okay? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” 






Yunho stands in front of his dorm mirror and can’t help but gasp at the sight of himself. As Ten had predicted, this Friday afternoon it’s raining and thundering outside, but in Yunho’s room, there’s music playing from his phone and puffs of sweet perfume permeating the atmosphere. After rushing back from his morning class and taking a much needed nap - since he didn’t manage to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning after last night’s events - he’d quickly barged into Wooyoung’s dorm where his two friends were leisurely napping naked on the bed and borrowed Wooyoung’s curling iron. 

 

His fading pink hair has a poofy texture to it after styling it; there’s delicate rouge on his cheeks and lips and a shimmery glitter all over his lids. The necklace felt cold around his throat at first, but has now adapted to his body’s temperature, and, with the matching earring, decorate his upper body beautifully. 

 

But the real star of the show is the outfit Hongjoong specifically prepared for him - the top feels like second skin as it covers his upper torso and arms, resting just underneath his chest. The skirt begins after a generous part of his stomach is exposed, cinching around his waist so perfectly that renders Yunho amazed at Hongjoong’s spot-on measurements. 

 

Images of Hongjoong circling and holding his waist weeks before flood his brain, and Yunho shakes his head to concentrate. 



The exposed slits at the sides that are held together in a corset-like manner by the buckles is something he never thought he’d wear, but the more he walks around in it the more comfortable he feels. He likes his legs a lot - years of dancing and exercise have made them svelte and muscular and strong. He hopes that Seonghwa and Hongjoong will appreciate them too. The heels are fairly easy to walk around in, too. 

 

Yunho’s knees are trembling with excitement. 

 

When he finally gets a text that they’ve arrived outside, he strolls down the stairs with his heels clicking against the floor, feeling multiple eyes turning towards him as he takes each step. The attention feels like he’s lit a matchstick on fire and keeps holding onto it, waiting until the flame touches his skin. 

 

The Mercedes is waiting for him at the entrance, and he quickly enters the backseat before the rain manages to soak him. 

 

Ten sits at the driver’s seat, and Seonghwa sits at the front too. 

 

“You look breath-taking, ” he hears Hongjoong’s voice coming from next to him. 

 

And Hongjoong’s one to talk - the man has styled his dark mullet all dishevelled loose, dark shadow and kohl lining his eyes and black lipstick on his lips. He’s wearing a two-piece deep purple suit that lays open with seemingly nothing underneath other than the faintest hint of a dark, lacy bralette. 

 

Yunho cannot think, let alone speak. 

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Seonghwa agrees in a low voice. When Yunho turns to look at him, he finds that he cannot see much of his outfit since the man is sitting at the front, but his hair is tied up in a ponytail exposing his undercut, with a few strands framing his face and his dark brows. 

 

The car starts and Yunho just barely manages to buckle his seat-belt before there’s a hand gently turning his head back.

 

 “Wha-” he begins to say, but Hongjoong smothers his words in a deep kiss before he can say anything else. 

 

This time, it’s electric, a fire that’s been building up in his loins finally letting her flames consume him. Hongjoong’s lips are soft like Seonghwa’s but he doesn’t wait for Yunho to catch up, almost enjoying leaving him breathless and panting more as they kiss, and there’s the slightest hint of Hongjoong’s tongue poking at the entrance of his lips, and fuck he can’t help but whine at the hand that sneaks up on his thigh to caress the exposed skin under his skirt as Hongjoong’s painted, sharp nails dig into the softness that’s there. 

 

When Hongjoong finally pulls back, Yunho almost slams his head against the car seat from the intensity of the kiss that’s left him numb and needy. His hand traces Yunho’s bottom lip with a satisfied smile.  

 

“It’s a good thing this liquid lipstick is kissproof, don’t you think?” 




Chapter Text

Yunho clenches his thighs together so tightly he feels like they’re going to go numb from the pressure. Throughout the entire ride, he has to remind himself to take a breath instead of holding it in until he almost coughs because of the exertion. 

 

But he can’t help it - Hongjoong hasn’t moved his hand from his thigh from the moment he put it there in the first place. The event is an hour away by car, and Yunho is soon going to get a cramp like this. 

 

The cool glass of the window soothes his burning cheek - his lips feel like they’re on fire, as if they’ve just been burned by the sun. It’s been twenty four minutes since Hongjoong kissed the soul out of him, and maybe he’s going just a little bit insane replaying the feeling in his head, agonized at how he cannot replicate the raw sensation with his mind. 

 

"Did you have fun with Seonghwa last night?" Hongjoong asks at one point, gentle voice filtering through the gentle music that's playing from the stereo. His hand never leaves Yunho's thigh, a silent reminder.

 

"Yeah," he sighs, trying not to tremble under his touch. Last night's events brought him closer to Seonghwa - the feeling of the man's soft, warm lips against his, tongue gently prodding into his mouth, his caresses and the gentle bumping of their noses, sensations that made Yunho familiarize himself with Seonghwa's presence. And even though he wanted to regard him and his husband on the same level, he couldn't help but hold back when it came to Hongjoong. "We watched Star Wars together..."

 

"His courting ritual," Hongjoong huffs out a laugh, and Seonghwa turns around in his seat to shoot him a glare that ultimately looks more like a pout, "What? Did you or did you not do the same with me when we were younger?"

 

The glitter underneath Seonghwa's lashes shines brightly even if the weather is moody and cloudy outside. He sighs, and his long earrings and ponytail jiggle slightly. Yunho bites the inside of his lip, because on one hand he could watch Seonghwa move and talk and exist for hours and not get bored - on the other hand, Hongjoong's hand on his thigh is making him agitated, restless, needy.

 

"How was your uh, seminar?" Yunho says after mustering all of his brain cells and asking them to cooperate in a manner that doesn't ultimately do more harm than good.

 

"Interesting enough for me to not want to miss it," Hongjoong answers vaguely, and squeezes Yunho's thigh for good measure.

 

Once they've reached the highway, Seonghwa and Ten pick up a conversation about work related matters, leaving the two men at the backseat to fend for themselves. As they enter a tunnel and the acoustics inside of the car get rowdy with the flooding wind, Hongjoong's manicured fingers slip around Yunho's wrist, leaving his thigh cold after so much groping.

 

Hongjoong's lips are shaping words into his ear before he can prepare for it, and the sensation leaves him startled and breathless, "When I got back this morning," he whispers, nasally voice sounding oh so teasing, tongue pressing against his teeth, "Seonghwa had already told me about your kiss."

 

Yunho's heartbeat quickens, "Is this something that... made you mad? That you were absent?" he asks, voice small, because his mind is used to the almost comforting clouding of doubts and guilt that has surrounded him for a long time.

 

"No, Yunho, not at all," Hongjoong reassures him, "He'd called me, an hour before he called you. There's nothing more that I hate than to not be there for him when he needs comfort. I suggested he call you, knowing full well that you two might take things further. After all, isn't that why the three of us are doing this?"

 

Yunho bites his tongue before he spirals into what ' this ' means.

 

"We can seek each other without all three of us being present.That means you, too."

 

"Mmm."

 

As soon as they exit this tunnel, they enter another one, and this time Hongjoong doesn't hesitate or waste any more time with words - he grasps Yunho's jawline tenderly and pulls him down to meet his lips, teeth clicking together at how fast and needy this kiss is. Yunho moans, a desperate sound ripped from his throat when Hongjoong places a hand on his thigh again, squeezes, digs his nails into the softness of his leg just enough to jolt him and pulls away just enough to whisper against his lips.

 

"The only thing I regret is not being there to witness you two kiss for the first time."

 

Yunho muffles the whimper in his throat by throwing himself onto Hongjoong again, seeking for his lips.

 

It takes a few minutes of kissing and for them to exit the tunnel that Yunho realizes how utterly debauched he looks at this moment, in a car with two other people, one of which isn't part of his sugar-daddy throuple. One of his thighs is thrown over Hongjoong's lap, in a position that renders his legs open, stretching his skirt with a noticeable gap in the middle.

 

And Seonghwa has turned to the side, apparently listening to Ten explaining something, yet with eyes fixed upon his husband and his sugar baby, fondling each other at the backseat of the car.

 

Yunho's sexual life has been stagnant for the past six months or so - he's soaking his underwear in so much precum just from kissing and from Hongjoong's territorial hands grabbing him that he's not sure if it's because he's touch-starved or if he really does like making out with a married man while his husband and his personal assistant could turn and see him at any given moment.

 

"We're only five minutes away," Seonghwa tells them, in only a slight scolding tone, and he sounds so collected and calm that only the furious blush on the high apples of his cheeks and the bewildered look in his eyes betray his true feelings - and Yunho... well, he kind of loves getting stares like that. 

 

Of course, it's a signal that they should stop, maybe freshen up a little. Hongjoong's lipstick looks immaculate as ever after he reapplies a coating while looking at his powder mirror, and Yunho adjusts the length of his skirt and its buckles to look like he hasn't been making out with Kim Hongjoong. 

 

They pull up to the venue, a newly-built hall in the outskirts of the city - there's photographers and journalists standing outside, taking pictures of the celebrities walking through the front entrance, but Ten ultimately drives past the crowd and circles the perimeter, until he can park comfortably in front of the back door. Here, it's much quieter, with only a few people quietly conversing and writing down the names of guests that arrive. 

 

"Was that a red carpet out front?" Yunho asks timidly. 

 

Ten opens the car door for him, "It's a PR event for brands and ambassadors, but models and influencers always create buzz, so paparazzi swarm the front entrance to get exclusive statements, since they aren't allowed inside." He brings a hand gently around Yunho’s waist as he helps him walk along the narrow sidewalk with his heels, “It’s also closer to the bar,” he whispers in his ear, and Yunho giggles. 

 

Neon lights exude a red hue throughout the venue, as a sensual R’n’B track flows smoothly from the speakers, loud and pulsing. Yunho can almost feel it syncing up with his heartbeat. He keeps a slow pace, since that’s what Seonghwa and Hongjoong seem to be doing, and he’s more than happy to follow them silently until he gets the hang of what he’s supposed to be doing. A young woman suddenly approaches him, holding a tray filled with flute glasses, and offers him a drink, along with a well-rehearsed short speech promoting the brand. 

 

“Take one, if you’d like,” Ten whispers in his ear after he notices that Yunho stumbles. 

 

Yunho offers a shy smile and takes the pink-colored gin and tonic that the woman is offering him. It even has a rosemary branch dipped into it, and smells potently of roses. 

 

“There’s many sponsors for tonight’s event, so you’ll have lots of people approaching you with products. Don’t feel bad if you turn down what they offer you,” Ten explains, “Just smile, you’re cute enough that they won’t get persistent.” 

 

“Right,” Yunho mumbles, taking a large gulp of his gin. Oh , it’s kind of strong - he’s no stranger to drinking and parties, but this is good alcohol, not the cheap wine Jongho always brings to house parties. 

 

Looking around, he notices the large screens displaying flashing images of fashion and beauty campaigns. He recognizes a few of the brands, ones that he’s seen at Sephora and other make-up stores, or in some fashion magazines that find their way in San’s dorm. Walking towards the center of the venue, the crowd gets bigger and louder - they all stand in small, concentrated groups, making room in the middle for a thin, long runway-like stage that remains empty for the moment. 

 

An arm slithers itself around his waist, the sudden impact of perfume - Hongjoong. 

 

“The main event will begin in half an hour,” he explains, so close to Yunho that he can feel his long lashes against his cheek. “A runway show, nothing too extravagant or lengthy though. Our seats are assigned, but you don’t have to sit if you’re bored. I hear the bar is well-equipped-” 

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to sit next to you?” Yunho replies. The question is genuine, but he notices soon enough, under the dim lighting, that Hongjoong is kind of taken aback by it. The high tops of his cheekbones flush, his throat bobs as he swallows. The gin tastes fruity on Yunho’s tongue, enabling him, “Didn’t you invite me here because you wanted to spend time with me? Because you like me?” 

 

He thinks for a moment that he’s pushing it - he’s not usually this bratty, that’s more of Wooyoung’s thing, but there’s something so cute about the way Hongjoong loses his resolve even for a moment that makes his toes curl inside his shoes. 

 

Yunho leans in, pressing his lips softly against Hongjoong’s cheek, “I can get you a drink from the bar in the meantime. What would you like?” 

 

“An old-fashioned, ” Hongjoong’s voice is low and mellow in his ear, like the concoction of whiskey and rum that Yunho is about to bring him. “Go ask Seonghwa and Ten what they’d like, too.” It sounds like a gentle order, and Yunho won’t really sit down and analyze why Hongjoong’s tone makes his spine arch - he’s got drinks to bring. 

 

“I’m going to go get drinks,” he says once the other two have finally approached them again after socializing with guests, shouting a little over the loud music, “What would you like?” 

 

“Ah, that’s fine,” Ten immediately interjects, “You stay here, I’ll get them for you-” 

 

“No, Ten, it’s okay,” Hongjoong smiles at him, and for a moment the two men stare at each other, as if communicating telepathically. It looks like his personal assistant catches on quickly, because he raises his shoulders with a smirk, “Yunho offered to get them.” 

 

Seonghwa’s hand sneaks around his waist and gives his hip and gentle squeeze. “A glass of champagne would be nice.” 

 

Ten asks for a martini - in the end, Yunho keeps repeating the different drinks in succession in his mind before he finally walks up to the bartender with his order. Apparently it’s an open bar event; Wooyoung is going to scream when Yunho tells him about it. 

 

The drinks feel numbingly cold between his fingers when he walks back to the other three - he can see now that people have begun taking their seats along the sides of the runway as a voice speaks clearly through the speakers, inviting them to watch the featured fashion show that’s been prepared for tonight’s attendees. He hurriedly hands them their drinks, as they have no time for conversation in lieu of finding their assigned seats. Ten’s holding a pamphlet with the main hall’s layout, which he uses as a map to guide the other three through the tight-knit crowd. 

 

Every now and then, a hand will come up and tap on Seonghwa or Hongjoong’s shoulder - they seem to be in touch with everyone, even if they only get to exchange a few words in passing. The two men socialize with ease, but stalling to greet everyone ends up delaying the arrival to their seats by a few minutes, and by then most of the lights have been switched off or dimmed so that everyone can focus on the runway. 

 

Hurriedly, they tip-toe their way towards the second row to the front; Ten sits down first and then Seonghwa next to him, and Yunho instinctively moves to the side so that Hongjoong can go next. 

 

“Go sit next to Seonghwa, darling,” Hongjoong urges him, “Be careful not to trip.” 

 

At the prospect of sitting between the married couple, Yunho does end up forgetting to be careful and trips over his own feet in the narrow space between the rows of seats. 

 

Alas, Seonghwa’s long arms save him from the fall, holding onto his upper torso and carefully cushioning his fall by maneuvering him onto his lap. 

 

“Ah, Yunho,” Seonghwa whispers anxiously, “Are you okay?” 

 

Yunho would love to give any sort of appropriate answer, but Seonghwa’s palms squeezing gently at his sides make him unable to utter any word from his mouth, that’s full of cotton and fuzz at the feeling. He slumps gently against Seonghwa’s chest with his back, closing his eyes only for a moment, to cherish this feeling of being held like he’s a tiny, malleable thing, before he gently shifts from Seonghwa’s lap to the empty seat in between him and Hongjoong. Thankfully, the music is loud enough so that no other guests notice a thing, but Hongjoong of course takes it upon himself to give a comforting pat to his knee, dangerously close to his thigh, and then moves to hold Yunho’s right hand in his. Seonghwa notices, and threads his fingers through Yunho’s left hand. 

 

“I’m fine,” he whispers eventually. The couple doesn’t stop holding his hands. 

 

The disembodied voice coming from the speakers is pleasant to listen to as they go over tonight’s sponsors and brands featured in the runway show. ‘Aurora’ is mentioned as well, followed by a gratifying round of applause. A few people sitting in the front row turn their heads to smile at Hongjoong, who returns them in tenfold, eyes crinkling with excitement. 

 

Yunho turns to Seonghwa, “So, is this a collaboration?” 

 

“Kind of,” he explains, “One model representing each brand, a glimpse to the fashion house’s aesthetic to appeal to investors. In my opinion, however, it’s nearly not enough to showcase what the brand actually stands for.” 

 

“Hm,” Yunho contemplates those words. “Is there a cohesive theme?” 

 

“Supposedly, but almost no-one follows the guidelines,” the man continues, “In situations like these, flashy impressions are thought to be the long-lasting ones, so everyone’s trying one-up each other.” 

 

The models begin slowly making their way down the runway and Yunho takes another sip from his drink. It’s a surreal feeling - he’s so close to them he can see all the details of their editorial make-up looks and the textures of the fabrics. Ever since passing his university entrance exams, he’s been to musicals and ballet performances, sitting backstage with the rest of his class, observing the professional dancers practicing and changing costumes hurriedly within an instant, bare feet running over the wooden floor. He’s stepped his foot on stages himself, albeit smaller ones, so it isn’t a foreign feeling in the slightest. Still, it’s always unexpected, the tingle he feels in his knees when he’s close to such glamour. 

 

“Hey,” Hongjoong suddenly leans into Yunho, but his face is searching for Seonghwa, who turns after a light nudge from his husband, “Right across from us, to your left, front row. That’s Kang, right?” 

 

Yunho tries his hardest not to eavesdrop, so he chooses to focus on how both men’s hair is tickling his torso now that he’s sat in the middle. It certainly doesn’t help. 

 

“Mm?” Seonghwa turns to the direction Hongjoong is discreetly pointing towards - at least they’re not sitting in the front row themselves, or this would have been awkward, Yunho thinks. “Oh, you’re right.” 

 

Yunho’s gaze turns too, without really meaning to. 

 

“I put Ten up to finding out if he was going to be attending tonight,” Hongjoong explains, and Seonghwa tuts, “Oh hush, nothing illegal - he’s got connections to Kang’s dog trainer.” 

 

“Connections means-” 

 

“We had sex once,” Ten supplies without sparing them a glance. 

 

“What type of dog does he have?” Yunho suddenly feels prompted to ask. He kind of does want to be included in the gossip. 

 

“A Border-Collie named Monie,” says Ten.

 

“I thought he had a poodle,” Seonghwa scrunches his brows. 

 

“That’s not the point!” Hongjoong whines in a whispery tone, and Yunho lets out a hiccupy laugh. “The moment this show is over I’m approaching him. You see him over there, Yunho dear?” 

 

This time, Yunho follows Hongjoong’s indication - and there is Kang, the person they’ve been talking about all this time. Sitting front row on the opposite side of the runway, a young man with a statue-like appearance. Strong, prominent features, silky dark hair styled in a side part and tucked behind his ear in a prince-like fashion, wearing a striking tailored suit in a vibrant red. A dark-colored beret sits atop his head, with an elaborate golden hair piece decorating the left side of his head. 

 

"That's Kang Yeosang," Hongjoong explains, "A potential investor attending tonight's event. A trust fund kid, essentially."

 

"He's not just a trust fund kid, darling ," Seonghwa interjects, "Admittedly, he's a young businessman willing to invest and expand his financial domain."

 

"You're being way too kind," Hongjoong groans, "Trust me Yunho, Kang Yeosang isn't the saint my husband is painting him to be."

 

"We went to high school together," Seonghwa interjects again, "I think we know pretty well what kind of person he is.”

 

“A menace.”

 

“Hongjoong!” 

 

"We need to talk to him once this is done," Hongjoong insists, "We've tried to reach him quite a few times but apparently Kang doesn't have the time to reply to any emails sent by KHJ Co. , so I'm going to approach him myself."

 

“Next up, Aurora!” 

 

That gets Hongjoong’s attention - at that moment, the model from Aurora begins walking down the runway - a young woman with a vibrant red buzzcut, clad in a tailored, dark striped suit. Tears and threads are hanging from the sleeves and seems, and chromatic, fabric-made butterflies in blue hues seem to be bursting out of the carefully made cuts around the chest and shoulders, like birds flying out of a cage. She looks like a sculpture in movement, long legs striding down in big steps as the flashing cameras capture every possible angle. 

 

“Beautiful,” Yunho whispers to himself, slightly breathless. He feels Hongjoong’s hand squeeze his so tightly that his heart makes a leap. 

 

He doesn’t notice Seonghwa reaching out behind to pet his husband’s hair, nor the way Hongjoong leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut if only for a moment’s comfort, and the wedding band on Seonghwa’s finger glimmering under the dim lighting. 

 

The show ends with a round of applause, and soon the guests begin getting up from their seats as confetti falls from the ceiling like snow. 

 

Yunho doesn’t realize they’ve distanced themselves from the bustling crowd until he finally lets go of Ten’s hand that’s guiding him through, until he can finally let out a deep breath. They’ve moved to the second floor, which is equally filled with couches and stools and a well-equipped bar, overlooking the ground floor beneath them. 

 

“There he is,” Hongjoong mutters once he spots his old classmate - Kang is sitting with a few other people at the back, face hiding behind a honey-colored drink. Though, he’s not hiding well enough for Yunho not to notice how bored he looks. “Right, so-” 

 

“Mr. Kim!” A sudden exclamation captures all four men’s attention, “How fortunate to see you here! And Mr. Park too, how lovely-” 

 

“Fuck my life,” Ten huffs under his breath, so quiet that only Yunho hears him, who’s squished right next to him at the arrival of this new person - a middle-aged man, with red-rimmed glasses and a gleeful face. 

 

“What’s going on?” Yunho asks worriedly. He looks at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who keep close, but their entire stance has changed. They look guarded, colder somehow. He looks at Hongjoong’s hand, which stays seemingly leisurely at his hip, but his knuckles have turned pale. 

 

“Paparazzi are prohibited from entering,” Ten explains hurriedly, rushing to find his phone, “And I happen to know exactly which one this is.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Just- I’ll be back in a minute, okay? Just stay here, but make sure he doesn’t notice you for any reason, alright? Pretend you’re on your phone, or something.” And with that, Ten is gone, lost in the sea of people, and Yunho is left more confused that he’s ever been before - partly because, despite their cold stance, the couple continues talking with the man without any issues. 

 

Yunho sighs, slowly backing away until he can feel his back touching the wall. Hongjoong and Seonghwa remain close, but to a passerby he wouldn’t pass as their acquaintance. He continues sipping from his drink, lazily looking around. Then, his eyes fall to Kang Yeosang. 

 

He’s still sitting right where he was before, only this time there’s a crowd around him. Five people, Yunho can see from where he stands. While Kang is sat on the barstool, nursing his drink, the group crowds around him like a wall - they’re laughing and shouting, but he seems uncomfortable, jerking in an agitated manner when someone’s hand touches his shoulder. Even under the dim lighting, his sour expression is prominent. 

 

Without giving it much thought, Yunho starts walking towards him - he’s learned to protect himself and his friends during night-outs in clubs and house parties. Better to intervene and embarrass himself rather than leave him helpless. 

 

“-This is already getting boring, Yeosang. C’mon, I’ll drive!” 

 

“Yeah, he said he’ll drive, c’mon Yeosang don’t be such a killjoy! You’re ruining it for everyone, you know? We already said we wouldn’t stay too long here!” 

 

“I’m not getting in the car with you, you’re fucking drunk,” Yeosang grunts, flinching away from another arm coming around his shoulders to pull him in when he’s clearly resisting. 

 

Yunho clears his throat, “Yeosangie-hyung!” he shouts through the music, putting on his best puppy smile when the group turns to look at him, “I’ve been looking all over for you!” 

 

Kang Yeosang has an indecipherable look in his eyes, furrowed brows and sharp nose regarding Yunho like an annoyed wild animal. Within seconds, however, he seems to relax, so Yunho keeps going, “Y-you didn’t answer any of my calls either, I was beginning to get worried…” 

 

“Yeosang, who’s this?” a woman from the group asks with a suspicious look. “Do we know him?” 

 

Yeosang’s lips part, and his forehead relaxes, “It’s too loud in here to hear my phone ringing,” he tells Yunho with shocking ease, as if they’ve been friends forever, “I forgot I already made plans. You guys can head out without me.”

 

He waves at them without a second look, following Yunho through the crowd without another word. He doesn’t speak until they’ve reached the other side of the floor, where the people are scarcer and the music not as intense. 

 

“Are you okay-”

 

“Who are you?” Kang immediately asks, once again that guarded facade taking over, “How do you know my name?” 

 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Yunho laughs nervously, “I feel like I first need to check up on you - they looked like they were pestering you quite a bit. Want me to get you some water?” 

 

Yeosang takes a step back. 

 

“I’m Yunho,” Yunho says quickly, “Jeong Yunho, I’m a student and a plus-one guest to this event. The reason I know your name is because the people I accompany know you. I sensed that you were uncomfortable so I stepped in - wasn’t my intention to disregard any boundaries.” To be honest, Yunho failed to realize the potential repercussions of approaching a possible millionaire like this - surely the man has a bodyguard, right?

 

“Who are you with?”

 

“Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa,” Yunho replies in one breath. 

 

Yeosang’s scowl sends shivers down his spine. 

 

“Is that so?” 





Yunho spends the better part of ten minutes stationed in the corner of the room with a silent, brooding Kang Yeosang before he finally sees his dates and their personal assistant rushing towards them as if they’ve seen a ghost. 

 

“Yunho where were you?!” Seonghwa approaches him first. His ponytail has come a bit loose, sweat dripping down his immaculate eyebrows and sparkly eyeshadow. “I thought you lost us.” 

 

“One minute you’re standing next to us, then the next you’re gone,” Hongjoong whines, cozying up to Yunho’s embrace like a cat. His head just barely reaches Yunho’s shoulder with his heels, and it’s absolutely adorable.

 

“Didn’t I tell you to stay where you were until I got back?” Ten says with panting breath. 

 

“I’m sorry!” Yunho whines, clasping his hands in front of his torso. He hates the fact that he caused so much trouble - the three of them look genuinely shaken up. “Didn’t mean to, truly, I just-” 

 

“Good evening,” Yeosang greets them, as if appearing from the shadows. 

 

Hongjoong’s eyes go wide. 

 

“Your plus-one was kind enough to help me out of a tricky situation,” Yeosang explains, not once losing the slightly arrogant flare from his face, “He’s a very polite person, unlike you Hongjoong, which is why I’ll be taking off now. It wasn’t nice to see you again at all.” 

 

Before Yeosang has a chance to escape, before Hongjoong even dares to open his mouth, Yunho reaches out with his long arms and grasps onto Yeosang’s red suit, holding him back. 

 

Ten yelps. 

 

The death stare Yeosang gives him is enough to almost make him piss his pants. 

 

“Are you crazy? This is-” 

 

“Don’t leave yet, please!” Yunho smiles through his fear, “See, before I came to your rescue, Hongjoong here was telling me that he really wanted to speak to you tonight. Can you imagine? Out of everyone in this venue, the one person he’s been looking for has been you. I think that sounds like a justified reason for you to sit and have a talk with him, mm?” 

 

It’s a miracle come true; Yeosang’s features relax in tandem with Yunho’s grip on his suit. He clears his throat, and turns to the married couple. 

 

“No more than thirty minutes. My driver is going to be waiting for me, and I don’t want to be late.” 

 

As the three of them talk, Yunho and Ten take a step back, allowing them privacy. Yeosang still doesn’t seem thrilled to be conversing with the two of them, and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to ask about their shared past - all he knows is that they went to high-school together. Sometimes, that information alone is enough to explain it all. 

 

“Where did you go?” he asks Ten instead. 

 

“Called security on that creepy paparazzi that waltzed into this place without ever being checked. He had a camera on him and everything. He’s been a problem for them long before I was hired. Thankfully security is taking care of him right now in the worst way possible.”  

 

“They seemed calm when talking to him…” 

 

“I guess at one point you get used to it.” 

 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Yunho changes the subject, “Could Yeosang potentially invest in the company?”

 

“All I know is that Mr. Kim has been trying to invite Mr. Kang to the upcoming showcase at the end of the month. For whatever reason, the man hasn’t been responding. Perhaps a personal invitation might work.” 

 

“A fashion show?” 

 

“It’s nearing winter,” Ten explains, “It’s about time the resort collection was finalized.” 

 

Yunho loses himself in the music for a moment, bopping his head to the rhythm - when Hongjoong and Seonghwa come back, they both have radiant smiles on their faces, eyes sparkling. 

 

He knows then that things have gone well. 





On their way back, Seonghwa is the one who sits at the back next to him - Hongjoong, evidently, has matters to discuss with Ten pertaining to Kang Yeosang’s invitation to their fashion show.  

 

“Darling, won’t you keep our baby company until we get him home?” Yunho hears Hongjoong whisper to Seonghwa while Ten brings the car over, knowing full well that their sugar baby can hear them loud and clear in the silence of the parking lot. 

 

Any remnants of anxiety or doubt have completely vanished - their eyes are dark and heavy with the promise of something more. 

 

“Did you have fun today?” Seonghwa whispers to him once they’re sat in the backseat. 

 

“I did…” Yunho says, gulping because he really doesn’t feel like talking right now. As much as he prides himself in self-restraint when it comes to his dancing and craft, he’s helpless when it comes to them. “Thank you.” 

 

“No, thank you,” Seonghwa insists, bringing his palm to Yunho’s cheek, faces so close that he can feel his warm breath on his lips, “Yeosang told us what you did for him. He’s very grateful, and if you’re asking me, you’re the reason he’s agreeing to come.”

 

“I just-” 

 

“It’s just that, him and Hongjoong have had a bit of a rocky relationship from high school - it’s about time they stopped forcing this immature rivalry, I think.” 

 

“Seonghwa?”

 

“Mm?”

 

Wordlessly, Yunho closes the gap between their mouths, lips fitting into Seonghwa’s in a rushed, needy kiss. Large palms cradle his cheeks like he’s a fragile, inconstant thing, like he’ll fade away if Seonghwa doesn’t hold onto him with utmost care and affection. Leaning into him, deepening the kiss, he brings his legs over Seonghwa’s, until he’s managed to climb onto his lap, sighing as he feels the man’s hands leave his face and travel down his shoulders, reaching under the hem of his shirt and then his hips over the fabric of his skirt. 

 

“W-would you,” Seonghwa speaks between kisses, regretfully pulling his lips away from Yunho’s whining lips, “Want to come home with us? Tonight? Stay over? We can drive you to your dorm, if that-” 

 

“Please take me home,” Yunho whines, capturing Seonghwa’s lips again, “ Your home.” 

 

“Good, t-that’s, yeah-” Seonghwa agrees, nodding erratically before pushing Yunho off his lap, much to the other’s dismay, “Gotta strap you in,” Seonghwa explains, fastening his seatbelt around Yunho’s waist with swift movements. 

 

Only then does Yunho realize that Ten and Hongjoong have entered the car and are waiting for him to sit so they can pull out of the parking lot. Ten’s looking at his phone, while Hongjoong’s turned to look at them - face fond and expectant. 

 

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong announces, tapping Ten on the shoulder, but keeping his eyes on Yunho. “No stops this time - just home.” 

 

Yunho can feel his cheeks, chest and ears heating up, a flushing red color that’s undetectable in the darkness of the car, but present nonetheless - he’s going home with them for the first time. Not only that, but their personal assistant is all too aware of it. 

 

Seonghwa’s palm is on his thigh for the entire ride, a warm presence that keeps him on his toes. He’s been aching to get out of these heels for an hour now, toes curling inside his shoes with the anticipation of what’s to come. Driving back into the city feels like a few minutes, and Yunho’s not sure if that has to do with Ten’s speedy driving or the hammering beating of his heart. 

 

In seemingly no time, Ten is pulling up to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s private driveway. Yunho exchanges hurried goodnights with him, although he might have said something else - his voice sounds far-away to his ears, as if it’s coming from someone else. 

 

They take the elevator - the route starts to feel familiar to Yunho, and for whatever reason he has an inkling that this won’t be the last time he’s going to come here. No one comes to join them as they rise up towards the penthouse, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa stand on either side of him, silent. When they finally make it to the front door of their apartment, Hongjoong is the one who takes the keys out. 

 

“I’ll fix us some drinks,” he murmurs, “What do you think, Yunho? Does wine sound nice? Nothing too heavy.” 

 

“W-wine sounds nice,” Yunho agrees. He can’t feel his fingers. 

 

“Darling, be a dear and get off our guest’s shoes,” he says to Seonghwa, who grunts wordlessly. 

 

Yunho doesn’t even make it to the foyer of the penthouse before he’s swept off his feet bridal style, a loud yelp leaving his lips. 

 

“Couch, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong orders nonchalantly, not sparing them a second look before walking to the kitchen, only after taking his heeled shoes and holding them over his shoulder. 

 

“Hmh, yeah,” Seonghwa whines, holding onto Yunho tightly. Yunho’s instinctual reaction is to complain that he’s too heavy (because he’s not sure if Seonghwa has the appropriate training, like San or Wooyoung do, to lift him up), but as soon as that thought crosses his mind, he’s already been deposited onto the couch. 

 

Seonghwa falls to his knees in front of him, on the floor. 

 

He’s staring at Yunho like he wants to devour him, brows drawn together in a high, pleading arch, plump red lips parted to reveal the smallest hint of tongue. 

 

He takes one of Yunho’s legs, and carefully begins unzipping his right heeled boot, finally taking it off. He moves onto the next one, and Yunho is unsure of what to do with his now bare foot, so he simply keeps it suspended in the air. A sudden press of Seonghwa’s lips on his knee startles him, however, and his foot lands on Seonghwa’s hard cock, that’s pressing against the constricting fabric of his clothes. 

 

“Fuck-” Yunho curses. 

 

“Nhn!” Seonghwa whines, closing his thighs around Yunho’s leg, grinding back into the pressure. “Yunho-” 

 

“Seonghwa,” he breathes out. Experimentally, he presses down on Seonghwa’s foot with his heel, warmth exploding in his lower tummy when the man whines out his name once again, mouth falling open in a silent plea and eyes closing shut. “You’re so-” 

 

“Haven’t been able to concentrate all day,” Seonghwa grunts out, pushing his face in between the plushiness of Yunho’s thighs, hiking up his skirt, “Can, can I, please-” 

 

“Not yet,” Hongjoong’s voice startles them both. 

 

He comes into the living room holding three wine glasses between his fingers and a full-unopened bottle between his arm and his chest, condoms and a small tube of lube. With a chuckle, he sets everything on the table apart from the lube and the condoms, and takes a seat next to Yunho on the couch. 

 

“Doesn’t my husband look pretty like this, on his knees for you?” 

 

Yunho stutters, because he doesn’t know how to respond - Seonghwa looks extraordinary like this. He looks debauched, needy, stripped down even though he has all of his clothes on, still. His eyes look loopy and glassy, and his bottom lip is blooming red with how much he’s bitten into it. Yunho wants to open his mouth and say so many things, everything indecent and salacious, like he’s done before with so many people. 

 

He’s been mean and teasing to partners before, gratuitously offering the sweetest poison from his lips as he fucks into them, burying his face into supple chests and spitting into their mouths - and he’s begged and cried again and again, helpless and flushed and breathless under the deliciously painful grip of a chokehold or an ample amount of rope tying his wrists together. He’s done all of those things before, so why does it feel different when it comes to these two? 

 

“Go on, tell him,” Hongjoong insists. He holds onto Yunho’s jaw tenderly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “On his knees like this, grinding against your leg - Jagiya, you’re shameless.”

 

“Please-” 

 

“Be patient,” Hongjoong tells Seonghwa, “You can wait, I know you can. Yunho comes first tonight.” 

 

He then turns to Yunho, lips pressing feverish kisses along his throat and jawline, “All morning he’s been on edge, poor thing,” he continues in that bittersweet tone of his, talking about Seonghwa, “Told me how good it felt to kiss you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about it long after you were gone. But he wants to taste so much more than your lips.” 

 

“I do,” Seonghwa whines, thighs shaking as he squeezes them tighter around Yunho’s foot, “Can I suck you off, please, Yunho-” 

 

Yunho is going to melt right into the couch; his fingers are digging into the fabric of the pillows, foot pressing even harder against Seonghwa’s clothed cock, just to see him cry out, tears brimming in his big, beautiful eyes, sharp nose pushing into the warmth of his own, hardening crotch. He feels just as helpless as Seonghwa looks right now, like he’ll wither away if Hongjoong doesn’t tell him exactly what to do. 

 

“Hmh, yeah, fuck-” he whines, whimpering when Hongjoong finally pushes up his skirt to reveal his skimpy underwear and his hard, leaking cock pushing against it. “H-hongjoong!” 

 

“There we go,” Hongjoong smiles as he holds Yunho’s cock and feeds it into Seonghwa’s willing, drooling mouth, “Look at you, making a mess -” 

 

Oh, Yunho might cry from how good it feels, to have Seonghwa’s luscious, wet lips tightening around his cock, tongue licking around the sensitive tip, the vibrations from his whines and moans travelling through his dick. It’s so warm and tight he can’t help but jerk his foot against Seonghwa’s cock again and again, hand flying out to hold onto his ponytail and grip it in his palm. 

 

Hongjoong nips at his ear and his throat, and Yunho’s mind wanders. As helpless and submissive Seonghwa might look on his knees on the floor like that, the two of them most definitely discussed this before coming back home. Yunho thinks about them, aroused, hands all over each other while getting dressed for tonight’s event, talking about him and what they want to do with him

 

There’s nothing he craves more than to be at their mercy, have them mold him and push and pull like he’s nothing more than a ragdoll. 

 

God, he wants to get fucked so badly. 

 

But it’s not like he specifically prepared himself for tonight with that thought in mind. 

 

Hongjoong even brought condoms and lube and everything with him, though.  

 

“D-don’t wanna come yet, ‘s too much,” he whines, holding onto Hongjoong’s suit. “Feels too good, can’t-” 

 

“Get up, baby, come give him a kiss.” 

 

Seonghwa stumbles onto the couch, sitting on Yunho’s other side, eyes lazy and lips swollen and red - when he kisses Yunho, he can taste himself on the other’s mouth. 

 

Soon, he’s maneuvered in between them, Seonghwa crawling between his legs while his back rests on Hongjoong’s knees, spread out like a fine meal ready to be devoured. Hongjoong helps him out of his shirt and skirt until he’s completely naked, his clothes haphazardly thrown on the carpet. Seonghwa and Hongjoong both try to get as bare as possible, resulting in the three of them wrestling and grinding against each other on the couch - it would be easier, in theory, to move to a bed with much more ample space. 

 

But Yunho doesn’t want to stop touching them and being touched, not even for a second. 

 

A hand on his jaw, and his head is turned sideways so Hongjoong can devour his mouth into a kiss - it’s messy and full of sharp teeth and tongue, and Yunho’s sure that their makeup is smudged all over their faces, but he can’t even care to save his life, because Hongjoong kisses him like he’s a man starved.  

 

And Seonghwa’s cock feels so good , grinding between his asscheeks. 

 

He can feel his hole clenching, tummy warming up at the thought of getting fucked deep into his guts until he comes all over himself - 

 

“H-haven’t-” he tries, mouth dry when Hongjoong finally lets him breathe. 

 

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa understands quickly, dropping his forehead on Yunho’s chest and rubbing his face in it, “We can do other things-” 

 

“Still, wanna, wanna feel it,” Yunho cries out, fuck he’s actually begging, “You’re so big, just - mmhmf! ” he whines when Seonghwa thrusts against his ass again, grinding his leaking cock in between his asscheeks while Yunho whines and clenches. He drops onto Yunho’s torso, joining their mouths together in a kiss. 

 

Hongjoong’s fingers are threading through his hair, sometimes gently and sometimes pulling just a bit to make Yunho sigh. When he looks up at him, Hongjoong has an eager smile on his face, “Can you fuck me later?” 

 

“Darling, of course. We have all night,” Hongjoong reassures him, “And so much more after that.” 

 

“Y-yeah,” Yunho murmurs.

 

“Does his cock feel good against you? Think about how it’ll feel when we’ll split you open, fuck you into the mattress until you cry-” 

 

“So good, want more-” he grunts, hand flying to his cock to get any sort of stimulation, but Hongjoong is quicker than him and brings both of his hands over his head. 

 

“Got something better,” Hongjoong murmurs, getting up from the couch and bending over to remove the last remaining clothing item on him - his underwear. 

 

A silver, heart-shaped plug is nestled in between his cheeks, keeping his hole stretched and filled. 

 

Yunho feels Seonghwa’s cock leaking precum against his ass at the sight. 

 

Fuck-” he cries out, “H-hongjoong, how long have you been wearing this?” 

 

“All day,” Seonghwa grunts instead, “He’s been waiting for you, baby.” 

 

“Been waiting to sit on your cock,” Hongjoong whines as he pulls out the plug, revealing his pink, glistening hole. Yunho refrains from wailing for him to sit on his face, “Can I ride you?” 

 

‘Are you fucking kidding me, you’re seriously asking me that, I will get on my knees and beg for you to sit on my cock,’ the words are on the tip of Yunho’s tongue, but all he can do is bite the inside of his cheek and cry out a plea that resembles a ‘Yes, please, do anything you want to me.’ 

 

Hongjoong swiftly puts a condom on his cock, rolling down his fist and jerking him off once before throwing his thighs over Yunho’s waist and slowly sitting down on it - and Seonghwa welcomes his husband’s back against his front, reaching down to open his cheeks and help him ease down on Yunho’s cock. He brings one of his arms around Hongjoong’s torso, holding him in place, leaning down to nose his hair and cheek. 

 

“Hnhg-” Hongjoong whines, experimentally rolling his hips. 

 

“How does he feel?” Seonghwa asks pleadingly, “Is he big, stretching you out?” 

 

“So full,” Hongjoong winces, clenching, “ Oh fuck …” 

 

Yunho can’t think anything - his mind is blank, empty, mouth open and drool starting to trickle down his chin. He vaguely registers the multi-colored small tattoos littering Hongjoong’s body in various places, but the man feels so hot and tight around his cock that his only reaction is to thrust up, deeper into the plush warmth, thighs shaking from the exertion of getting his cock stimulated and having Seonghwa thrust against his ass at the same time. 

 

“You’re so big inside of me,” Hongjoong breathes out, chest blooming red, “Yunho, you’re so-” 

 

“Fuck,” Yunho finally speaks, a drawn-out moan that has his voice breaking and his brows drawn together, “So tight, can’t, oh shit-” 

 

“Ah!” Hongjoong cries out when Yunho grips his sides and thrusts up with rapid movements, pistoning his hips and pushing his cock further inside of him, “Seonghwa, he’s so deep, ah!” 

 

Seonghwa’s hand trails further downwards, cupping Hongjoong’s slim stomach, “Unf, ‘m gonna come soon,” he moans, teeth digging into his bottom lip. 

 

“Can’t even control yourself?” Hongjoong huffs out a laugh, groaning as Yunho bounces him on his cock, dark mullet sticking to his forehead and his nape. 

 

“Ungh, fuck,” he cries out, pushing against Yunho’s hole, jerking him in tandem with Yunho’s thrusts inside Hongjoong, “Can’t help it, you both look so good, so pretty when he fucks you, baby…” 

 

The two of them get lost in their own little world for a bit, kissing fervently and panting into each other’s mouths. 

 

And Yunho observes. 

 

They look as if they’ve been sculpted together, bodies melted together from the same creator, hands holding onto each other until their skin gets red and sweaty and blooms under the touch, lips connecting and tender words exchanged that taste like honey and everything sweet. 

 

He shivers when he realizes how much he enjoys seeing them take their pleasure from him, so engaged in each other that they don’t pay him attention - his cock twitches inside of Hongjoong at the thought of servicing them like this, being good as Hongjoong rides him and Seonghwa paints his asscheeks white with his cum. But he also craves to be noticed, reprimanded and praised, to get told that he’s being good and perfect and make them shake and tremble with his mouth and cock and hands. 

 

“Shit, I’m coming-” Seonghwa whines, letting out a moan as he comes against Yunho’s ass, ringlets of cum shooting against his asscheeks and his thights and the bottom of Hongjoong’s ass, that’s still bouncing up and down Yunho’s cock. “Fuck!” 

 

Seonghwa’s hand pushes down on Hongjoong’s waist, pressing him down until he falls on Yunho’s chest, drawing out a surprised yelp from him and a high-pitched moan from Yunho as Hongjoong’s hole drags deliciously across his cock. 

 

“Yunho!” Hongjoong yelps out of his name when Yunho reaches down to grip his ass for better leverage, thrusting into him faster. 

 

“‘M so close,” he cries out to Hongjoong, burying his face in the crook of his neck and relishing in the warmth, the skin-to-skin touch that he’s craved all this time, “Can I come, please, p-please-” 

 

He hears Hongjoong’s sharp inhale, and for a moment he gets the impression that he’s done something wrong - perhaps he let himself slip into his headspace too much for Hongjoong’s comfort. He keeps his face hidden, trembling. 

 

“Be good and come for me.” 

 

His vision turns white - exploding pleasure culminates inside of him, so intense and full he feels like he’s on fire as he comes again and again, cock settled inside Hongjoong and face suckling on his neck for comfort, trembling through the aftershocks of his orgasm - and Hongjoong holds him just like this, coming all over himself and Yunho’s torso. 

 

Their hair is stuck to their foreheads, and despite the stifling heat, they refuse to let go of each other as they calm down. 

 

“Baby?” Seonghwa’s voice is gentle and careful. He’s kneeling on the floor next to them, extending his arms to caress Hongjoong’s back and Yunho’s head at the same time. They’re not sure who he’s referring to, but they both turn their heads at the sound of the pet name, “Yunho, baby, you okay?” 

 

“Mfm.” 

 

“I - hah, I think he needs some water,” Hongjoong coughs out, gasping for breath. “You with us, still?” 

 

Yunho opens his eyes - the manner in which he does so is apparently hilarious, because both men start giggling. 

 

“How cute!” Seonghwa coddles him, stroking his cheek, and Yunho leans to the touch, “So responsive. Like a puppy!” 

 

Oh. 





It does take a few minutes to sink in that he’s just had very hot, very sweaty and very messy sex with his sugar daddies on the couch of their penthouse - Yunho reasons that this fact alone would take anyone by surprise, so he’s giving himself some time to let it sink in. 

 

But he doesn’t dwell on it too much. After all, he’s currently sitting on Seonghwa’s lap, eating a very late dinner that’s just the right amount of spicy to pair with the wine that Hongjoong picked before they started fucking, that’s still chill inside the cooler. 

 

And Yunho feels so embarrassed that he can’t stop slightly trembling in his hold - he’s not sure if it’s because of how intense his orgasm was, or because the two of them haven’t stopped doting on him ever since: picking up small bites of meat and feeding them to him, wiping his mouth, petting his hair, kissing his cheeks. He’s slipping into a lethargic headspace, his tone quiet while the other two converse just fine. 

 

Puppy.

 

Of all things to exist in the dark abyssal pool of kinks, Yunho had to stick his hand into it and come out with this. His friends have called him puppy for years now, not only because of his smile and eyes killer combo, but also because of his mannerisms. He’s never given it much thought in this context, though. 

 

All his brain can come up with at the moment is a hazy image of Hongjoong reprimanding him while he’s on his knees. Be a good puppy, and maybe I’ll give you my cock.

 

“Yunho?” Seonghwa’s voice makes the daydream dissipate like smoke, “You okay? You’ve gone a bit quiet.” 

 

“‘M good,” Yunho insists, squirming. “Just, overwhelmed, I guess.” 

 

“Good overwhelmed, or bad overwhelmed?” 

 

“Good, always good with you guys.” 

 

Hongjoong’s smile is so big and reassuring, “Then that’s great. Want more bruschettes? They’re very good.”

 

“Mm, yes please.” 

 

The TV is on, but the washed-out, vague sci-fi series it displays fades into the background as the three of them pay no mind to it - with their utensils and glasses gently clinking, their quiet voices are enough to fill the space of the ample living room. Yunho feels so calm and sated, like he’s sinking into a fluffy cloud. Seonghwa and Hongjoong keep petting him even when he doesn’t participate in the conversation, and the subjects range from work-related matters to grocery shopping to gossip. 

 

It’s no different than what Yunho usually does when he hangs out with his friends. He doesn’t exactly know why he thought things would be different, after all Hongjoong and Seonghwa are young people like him. He’s sure that if it were any other person in this exchange, the dynamics would be way different. Perhaps he would have had to leave the apartment after they’d finished fucking, or perhaps he wouldn’t have even made it to his sugar daddy’s place, just a quick fuck inside a car or a bathroom. He wouldn’t have minded doing that with a stranger. 

 

But with Hongjoong and Seonghwa it’s something else. He yearns to be taken care of by them. He doesn’t want to be tossed to the side, to be a momentary pleasure and nothing more. 

 

His through process is stopped by a pair of lips on his forehead. Seonghwa’s. 

 

“Hongjoongie says there’s still pastries in the fridge from last night, want to share one with me?” 

 

“That would be nice,” Yunho murmurs, but he gets cut off by his yawn. 

 

“Oh, someone’s sleepy.”

 

“‘M not!” 

 

“It’s almost two in the morning, I’m for sure getting sleepy,” Seonghwa smiles, squishing him into a hug, “Dessert and then bed?” 

 

Yunho listens to the gentle sound of running water coming from the kitchen as Hongjoong washes the dishes. He doesn’t want the night to be over, he had other things he wanted to experience tonight, too, but exhaustion is washing over him, crashing like a wave, and his eyes feel heavy and Seonghwa’s hug is oh so warm. Are they going to propose he sleeps in a guest room? 

 

“I made you some tea, too,” Hongjoong says once he comes back, “I’ve put them in the bedroom - a shower and pyjamas are in order. Yunho, baby, aren’t you cold?” 

 

“Seonghwa has kept me warm enough,” Yunho admits, bashfully, and that earns him another kiss on the cheek. 

 

“C’mon, let’s get to the bedroom.” Hongjoong says, petting his head. 

 

Their bedroom occupies the corner at the far end of the penthouse; hidden behind heavy double doors, it’s covered from top to bottom with large glass windows that present a stunning view of the neighborhood, the faraway city lights and the river that separates them. Their bed isn’t huge by any means, but it’s filled with fluffy pillows in various shapes and colors that match the aesthetic of the rest of the room. There are pyjamas laid on the comforter, and a large candle burning on the side table, suffusing the atmosphere with a light, lavender aroma. 

 

Hongjoong walks to the round table near the window, placing his phone there after switching it off. The blue and purple hues shining through the windows reflect beautifully on his naked body, cool tones caressing his skin and casting shadows in the valleys and contours of his body. His hair is an unruly mess, dark and cascading down his nape and his shoulders, and his makeup is smudged around his eyes. He looks like an otherworldly creature, like a mirage ready to dissipate with the snap of a finger. But then, he turns and tip-toes excitedly towards the other two, bare feet enjoying the fluffy carpet. 

 

“Shower time!” 

 

The ensuite bathroom that hides behind a door on the left side of the bedroom is equally ample in space - it includes, other than the large bathtub in the middle with various bath salts and bath bombs sitting on a wooden caddy, an equally huge shower that fits all of them together without squeezing against each other. 

 

Seonghwa gets in first to fix the water temperature, checking it against his thigh. He’s let his hair down now, silky black hair covering his eyes as he leans down. 

 

Yunho lets his eyes close when the water starts running down his hair and shoulders, heating up his skin and making his ears grow red and flushed. He can feel the exhaustion of today running down the drain as the water strips him from the makeup and the perfume and body lotion that have seeped into his skin. Suddenly, a pair of hands reach around from behind him, lathered in foamy shower gel. 

 

Seonghwa washes him just like this, spreading the foam all over his body. As he does so, Hongjoong comes closer to his front, until they’re touching chest to chest, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and it echoes in Yunho’s ears despite the running water, “I hope I get to see more of you like this.” 

 

“You mean naked?” Yunho asks, gasping when Seonghwa swipes his hands over his nipple. 

 

“I meant in an intimate setting in general, but yes, naked works for me too,” he teases him, placing a drop of foam on Yunho’s nose. 

 

“Am I-” Yunho begins timidly, when Seonghwa moves to wash his hair, “Am I going to sleep in your bed?” It sounds so stupid, asking that out loud as if he’s a child, but he can’t ignore the gnawing feeling that taunts his every insecurity. 

 

“That’s the plan,” Hongjoong’s voice is assuring in tone, “Unless that makes you uncomfortable, in which case-” 

 

“No, no!” Yunho protests, “I want to, um. Yeah.” 

 

Hongjoong looks at him suspiciously, “Yunho, baby, darling boy, did you think we’d bring you into our bathroom, clean you up and then send you off to sleep all alone in an entirely different room?” 

 

“Wasn’t sure…” 

 

“How would we ever-”

 

“Hongjoongie,” Seonghwa speaks with a warning tone, “No one is able to read your mind, honey. Verbal confirmation is important.” He begins washing off the foam from Yunho’s body, gently caressing his skin as he does so, “We’d definitely leave you to rest alone, if that is what you wanted. But it’s clear that our needs are the same - and it would be unwise to leave you all alone just like that.” 

 

“Yunho have you ever experienced subspace before?” 

 

“I know what it is,” Yunho clarifies, “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it, so I don’t know how it feels. Do you think…”

 

“I don’t think you’re in subspace right now,” Hongjoong says. He reaches up to cup both of Yunho’s cheeks with his palms, “I think you’re teetering on the line of getting there, though. We might have said or done things that pushed you towards a more submissive state. And if that’s something that you’d like to explore more with us, we’d be more than excited to do so.” 

 

Yunho blushes, shutting his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Hongjoong’s hands on his face. He hears the two men coo and fawn over him, coming closer until he’s once again sandwiched in between them. He can feel their hands all over him, careful touches that bring him shivers and stroke his skin in such ways that render him unable to say more than a few words at a time, just basking in the attention. 

 

They wash up and get out of the shower after a while. The mirrors all around have fogged up and their skin has turned prune-like. Seonghwa presents a small purse full of necessities like face creams, toothbrush and toothpaste, cleansing gel and so on, “This is all yours. In case you ever forget to bring your own, you can just leave it here, if you’d like.” 

 

They brush their teeth in front of the mirror while giggling, and Yunho feels like a kid again, as if he’s at a sleepover and getting ready for bed. As the fog dissipates from the mirrors, he quickly notices the littered hickies across his throat and chest, right near the hem of the comfy bathrobe he’s wearing. His eyes go wide, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s laughter grows louder. 

 

“There's nothing a bit of makeup can’t cover!” Seonghwa assures him. 

 

After slipping into the silky pajamas they’ve laid out for him, he ceremoniously dumps his body on the bed, the mattress making him spring back a little. They eat the pastries and have their soothing nighttime tea, and then it’s time for bed. 

 

Of course, he’s positioned in the middle of the bed, cuddled in between them as Seonghwa spoons him and Hongjoong pushes his face into his chest, claiming it as his pillow for the night. His skin tingles, a rush of excitement inside of him that he’s sure is not going to allow him to sleep with ease. It all feels so dreamlike, he has a hard time accepting that this is reality, that he’s that lucky to be able to spend time with these two. 

 

“When you said explore more things with you,” he begins with a whisper, “What, um, what exactly did you have in mind?” 

 

Seonghwa shifts around a little, his hold getting tighter around Yunho’s waist, “Anything you like in bed. Doesn’t have to be submissive or dominant in nature, although from what I’m getting, you’re into that too, aren’t you?” 

 

“I-” he hesitates. 

 

“Don’t make me tickle you,” Hongjoong pokes his tummy, eliciting a hearty giggle out of him, “There’s no reason to be shy with us. Anything you want to try out, anything that turns you on, however you want to have us or let us have you. We’ll make it happen for you, in any way you want. Trust me, it’s easier than you think.” 

 

“We’re both into… many things,” Seonghwa adds, pressing a kiss to Yunho’s nape. Yunho has to try really hard to not let their hushed words go straight to his cock or let his mind wander, “Ask for anything, and we’ll give it to you, baby.” 

 

“Puppy,” Hongjoong adds, the devious smile on his lips growing in satisfaction when he noticed Yunho’s startled reaction, “Okay, bed time! It’s already too late and I have way too many meetings tomorrow.” 

 

Yunho’s heart is hammering in his chest, and he thinks he won’t be able to fall asleep after having a conversation like this. But, after a few minutes in their embrace, his eyes slip shut, and he falls asleep with his face buried in Hongjoong’s freshly washed hair - the scent lulls him to sleep just fine. 





hey 

 

call be back u slut 

 

pls tell me you didnt get murdered on your way there

 

okay im guessing you got dicked down real good so ill let this go for once but next time pick up the phone im ANXIOUS 

 

“Look at these!” Wooyoung shouts at him the next afternoon, shoving his phone in his face, “How many times do I have to text you for you to call back?” he leans into Yunho’s personal space, pushing his face into his tummy, “Was the dick that good for you to ignore your best friend?” 

 

“I’m sorry!” Yunho whines, hiding his face in his arms from the embarrassment. “I genuinely forgot about it and even had trouble finding my phone this morning…” 

 

When Yunho woke up this morning, he had his face shoved into Hongjoong’s chest and drool staining the pillow under his head. Seonghwa had already woken up and was gently shaking them with coddling words and promises of a big breakfast waiting for them in the kitchen. It’s admittedly the best sleep Yunho has had in years, and it took a while for him to get up because Hongjoong’s grip on him contained the strength similar to a large bear. 

 

The kitchen counter was covered in sweet and savory breakfast foods - “I placed an order, didn’t cook any of this, just so you know,” Seonghwa clarified, “I hope that this doesn’t seem disingenuous-” 

 

“I-” Yunho sighed, eyes wide at the sight in front of him, “How do you expect me to go home willingly when you treat me like this?” he whined. 

 

“You can stay here,” Hongjoong said, yawning as he rested against the kitchen door frame, “You can stay here all day, no problem.” 

 

“Uh,” Yunho sighed, “Tempting offer, but I have practice-” 

 

“Do not steer him away from his academic pursuits,” Seonghwa insisted - he was halfway done dressing up for work in a peachy orange velvet suit, a piece Yunho suspected that it was one of Hongjoong’s creations. 

 

“How are you already dressed up?” Yunho murmured to himself, “Just - where do you find the energy?” 

 

“One of nature’s greatest mysteries,” Hongjoong lazily walked towards the food, stuffing a small croissant in his mouth, “I’ve known this man my entire life and it baffles me every single morning.” 

 

When Hongjoong and Seonghwa dropped him off near his dorm building, they spent thirty minutes in the car kissing him goodbye while he was perched on Hongjoong’s lap once again, shoulders exposed for the two of them to nibble on. 

 

Only after he finally reached his dorm room did his phone ping with a Nectar notification, alerting him that there was a generous amount of money added to his account. 

 

“Oh,” Wooyoung said, knowingly, “I take that they’re fantastic in bed?” 

 

Yunho squirms. He extends his right leg and begins to lean into it, stretching the muscles out, “I-it felt so good, all of it, I just… I don’t think I have enough words to explain-” 

 

“It’s not like it was your first time!” 

 

“I didn’t, um, I didn’t get fucked.” 

 

“What? How come?” 

 

“I just didn't prepare myself. Didn’t even know I’d end up at their place… but in any case, it was wonderful ,” Yunho sighs dreamily. And then Wooyoung starts petting his hair while he stretches his legs out and he keeps talking, mouth running without a filter on how they touched him and how it felt to pleasure and be pleasured by them, and he doesn’t realize how much time has passed until San arrives from his jog, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

 

“Come here Sannie, come listen to how Yunho fucked his sugar daddy last night.”

 

“Stop it!” 

 

“Ah!” San exclaims in delight as he sits down, “Do they have any weird kinks?” 

 

“We didn’t really delve into that topic… But, I guess, they did say that they’re open to anything. That I can ask for anything, and they’ll give it to me.” 

 

“Kink wise or like… toys?” San asks. 

 

“Both, maybe?” 

 

“Alright, let’s find the most expensive sex toys and bill them to their account!” Wooyoung claps his hands together. 

 

“No!” Yunho protests, but San is already reaching for his phone, “Guys, they’re already giving me their money, if I want to buy something I’ll do it myself.” 

 

“Okay, you can buy for yourself whatever you want with your money, but maybe you can convince your sugar daddies to buy us some expensive toys.” 

 

“Or some cute lingerie,” Wooyoung sighs dreamily, “Harnesses, and leashes-” 

 

“I’m begging you, stop-” 

 

“This is new,” San suddenly interrupts, showing them his phone screen, “They’ve got like, from rope to harnesses to body cages and lingerie and BDSM-specific gear, and it’s all high quality and pretty-” 

 

“Let me see that,” Wooyoung squints, “ ‘Desire’? I’ve never heard of that brand…” 

 

Yunho’s brows furrow. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. 

 

“There’s not a lot of toys, but they have leashes and collars and harnesses,” Wooyoung says as he scrolls, “All the pictures look so pretty, Sannie look at this one!”

 

“Size inclusive too,” San swipes through the pictures, “They’ve got loads of models with different body types…” 

 

Desire. 

 

Desire. 

 

“Fuck, this one’s so hot, Yunho look,” San shoves his phone into Yunho’s face. 

 

The picture cuts off right at the neck as to not reveal the model’s identity, but there’s a multitude of photos from various angles of the same item on his body - it’s a black corset, tightly secured around the person’s waist, with jacquard-like embroidery and lace details peaking around the hem under his chest. It’s pretty, pretty in the way he admires it and in the way he imagines it cinching his own waist. He swipes through the rest of the pictures, ones that aren’t close ups and show the rest of his body, too. 

 

Tattoos. 

 

He’s seen these tattoos before. 

 

Desire. 

 

He grabs San’s phone from his hand, ignores the duck-like squawk of protest that his friend lets out, and clicks on the CONTACT US page.

 

The KHJ Co. trademark stares right back at him. 

 

“...fashion brands ‘Aurora’ and ‘Desire’...” 


And the one who’s modeling that corset is none other than Hongjoong.

Chapter Text

It takes a while to sink in. 

 

He spends the entirety of dance practice in a daze, body moving solely on muscle memory while the image of Hongjoong’s torso squeezed in by that corset replays in his mind as if projected on a thin white sheet. He vaguely registers lifting San up during their choreography, and only momentarily notices the bead of sweat running down his nose while he stands in the final pose, gentle applause from the rest of the students and a satisfactory smile from their instructor. Her words of feedback pass from one ear to another, but it’s no big deal, he’s sure Wooyoung will remember and tell him. All he wants is to get his phone back. 

 

Hongjoong has a lingerie and BDSM gear brand. Kim Hongjoong. His sugar daddy and one of the hottest up and coming fashion designers in haute couture. 

 

“Yeah, but he’s so sexy though,” Wooyoung sighs dreamily, fingers zooming in on Hongjoong’s cinched waist in the pictures. “Who would’ve thought you hit the jackpot, Yunho!” 

 

Yunho voraciously gulps down his grape soda, his throat stinging with the excess carbonation. 

 

Desire’s website is neatly organized - every item is showcased on different body types and sizes. From lacey, frilly items with embroidered flowers and fruit to pvc, dominatrix ensembles with excess harnesses and large belt loops. In the gear section, there’s all sorts of offers on crops, leather gloves, shibari rope, collars, leashes - 

 

“What are you looking at?” 

 

Yunho and Wooyoung yelp in unison, and Yunho rushes to grab his phone from his friend’s hand, shoving it in his pocket. 

 

It’s enough that they’re in a public place, but getting caught by Jongho’s soon to be boyfriend who’s not at all acquainted with them or their personalities… Jongho would not be too happy if Mingi were to suggest that they never meet again with his friends. And all three have to admit that Jongho is scary as hell when he gets mad. 

 

“Hi Mingi!” Yunho says, voice cracking, “How was class?” 

 

Mingi squints his eyes behind his round-framed glasses, smiling, “Pretty good! Were you looking at sex toys?” 

 

“Uhm-” 

 

“Yeah, actually,” Wooyoung admits, making room for Mingi to sit down on the table. San and Jongho are up near the register to take their orders - it’s going to be awkward enough with Jongho missing for Yunho to strike up a conversation with this guy. 

 

“If you dare mess this up for me I will strangle you,” Jongho had told them after days of pestering him to finally meet his date. 

 

Yunho has only spoken to this guy once, but he certainly wasn’t as straightforward as the last time. 

 

“Cool!” Mingi grins, sitting down, “Anyways, I’m Mingi, I don’t think we’ve met before? You’re Yunho and you’re Wooyoung, right?” 

 

“That’s, yeah, that’s us,” Wooyoung relaxes, “It’s nice, finally meeting you. Jongho talks about you all the time.” 

 

“Ah, that’s-” Mingi stutters, laughing shyly, “That’s nice…” 

 

Jongho and San come back with trays full of sizzling food. It’s not long enough until the five of them begin chatting animatedly about all sorts of things, while dipping their utensils into each others’ plates and sharing stories and anecdotes. Mingi is a delight, and of course he is, or else Jongho wouldn’t be so openly flirtatious at the dinner table with all of his friends around, knowing they’re going to tease him about it. As Mingi talks while making big gestures with his hands, eyes going wide, Jongho sits next to him, nursing his drink, with a fond expression in his eyes and a blush in his cheeks. 

 

It’s a look Yunho recognizes - Seonghwa and Hongjoong look at each other like that, too. 

 

When Seonghwa talks, calmly and eloquently, and Hongjoong’s quiet smile is always on the verge of being interrupted by a giggle or a soft-spoken word of commentary. When Hongjoong teases him, brows full of expression, and Seonghwa squeezes his waist, eyelashes fluttering. He wonders if he looks at Hongjoong and Seonghwa in the same way. 

 

He wonders if they look at him like that, too. 

 

“You’re spaced out,” Jongho nudges him. Most of the plates only have remnants of sauce now, after being scraped clean by the five of them. How long has he been staring into the distance while the others become muffled background noise? “Everything okay?” 

 

“Yeah,” Yunho clears his throat, “Just a bit tired, that’s all. Had practice before and I’m a bit sore...” 

 

“But it’s Saturday,” Jongho says, “You can rest a bit, you know? And I know for a fact that those two money bags tired you out last night.” 

 

“I see Wooyoung hasn’t learned to keep his mouth shut. And don’t call them money bags!”

 

“It’s not embarrassing to have a sugar daddy!” Jongho tells him teasingly, “And you look like you had an amazing time.” 

 

“Who’s got a sugar daddy?” 

 

Mingi’s question silences everyone at the table - it’s a good thing the surrounding customers pay them no mind. 

 

“Uhm,” Yunho huffs, “I do.” 

 

“That’s so cool!” Mingi’s mouth gets so wide when he smiles, no wonder Jongho is crushing on him, “Do you sell, like, feet pics, or-” 

 

“No!” Yunho cries out, appalled. 

 

“It’s a traditional sugar daddy arrangement,” San begins to explain, brave now that Yunho has admitted it to possibly the newest addition in their friend group. “They take him on dates, he keeps them company, that kind of stuff.” 

 

“Uh, yeah,” Yunho agrees. His ears are on fire, “They both own and manage the same company-” 

 

“Two of them?!” Mingi howls out excitedly, patting Yunho on the back, “You got super lucky, you should know that. How did they even agree to share you?” 

 

“They’re married…” 

 

“Ah, I see,” Mingi winks, “You must get babied a lot.” 

 

Yunho’s ears burn like the sizzling meat on his plate. 

 

While waiting to split the bill, Wooyoung leans into Yunho’s ear, “Sannie wants the corset, by the way. He was going to go for something lighter, but I convinced him to pick that one, so we’ll have one in the black-” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

 

Wooyoung pouts, eyes wide open as if it’s obvious, “The corset? Desire ? Your haute couture fashion designer sugar daddy who also owns a lingerie/sex paraphernalia company? Can you get us the corset he’s modelling? I can tell you San’s measurements…” 

 

“You expect me to bring this up to them?!” 

 

“Uh,” Wooyoung turns on his seat, so that he’s facing Yunho with an expression that only instills fear in him, “I don’t think I have to explain to you how fucking lucky you are, you idiot, you basically have an unlimited supply of fetish related garments right at your doorstep for free. Didn’t you guys discuss kinks while you were there?” 

 

“We’ll make it happen for you, in any way you want. Trust me, it’s easier than you think.” Hongjoong’s voice echoes in his ear. 

 

“I’ll get you your corset,” Yunho grunts, face in his palms to hide his blush, “I’ll just, I’ll mention it next time I meet them.” 

 

“Yunho, my friend!” Wooyoung exclaims, grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his nose, “Have I ever told you you’re the platonic love of my life?” 

 

“You need to look into getting a sugar daddy of your own,” he sighs. 

 

“If you know any rich men who wouldn’t mind being mine and Sannie’s pay pig, hit me up,” Wooyoung giggles, downing the last of his drink, “But keep in mind that we’re two peas in a pod, ‘m not letting anyone separate me and this one,” he leans into San and ruffles his hair. San leans into the touch like a satisfied cat. 

 

Yunho sighs longingly. 

 

When they finally leave the diner, the sky is pale blue and pink, just after the sunset. The small round orb of the moon greets them and Yunho is too lethargic from the food to catch what Jongho is saying. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I said,” Jongho repeats, “Mingi wants to go through the evening market to find some shoes. Wanna come with? We can get drinks later, too.” 

 

“I’d love that!” 

 

The thrift shops and vintage market are about a fifteen minute walk from where they are, and although the air is crisp and kind of chilly, Wooyoung and San hold his hands as they walk, letting Jongho and Mingi take the lead at the front. The goal is to give them privacy so they can hold hands uninterrupted, but to the three men’s disappointment, they only small-talk and laugh. “Should I say something?” Wooyoung wonders out loud. 

 

“No,” San shushes him, “Let them take their time, we’re only going to make them uncomfortable if we force them to hold hands.” 

 

“Mingi seems lovely,” Yunho adds, “Jongho chose well.” 

 

“Let’s hope he doesn’t mess it up,” Wooyoung sighs, “I’m going to keep my grimy fingers out of this, like you asked.” 

 

The evening market takes up an entire city block, nestled in cobblestone roads and alley corners - there’s vendors selling boiling hot street food and alcohol, racks full of thrifted coats, jeans, shirts and accessories, counters piled with vintage jewelry, knick-knacks and various large furniture taking up space on the street, so much so that people tip-toe around them to get through the crowd. It’s stifling and difficult to move around with so many people, thus they only spend a few minutes hastily looking through the street vendors before Mingi tells them there’s another store hidden in one of the buildings on this street that he wants to check out. 

 

He leads them inside an old apartment complex right behind the vintage section of the market - it looks dodgy at best, and Yunho keeps looking around wearily as they walk up the stairs. But, finally, there’s music playing and it gets louder and louder once they reach the third floor. One of the apartments at the far back has its front door open to visitors, encouraging them to come in with the promise of sales and rare finds, as indicated by the colorful stickers that adorn the entrance. 

 

The apartment isn’t spacious at all - even the ceiling is low enough that Yunho has to walk in a semi-ducked position, shoulders hunched, but the selection it has to offer is nothing short of spectacular. Funky prints and textures, campy accessories and fashionable shoes, all labeled and neatly organized. There’s so much of everything that Yunho isn’t sure he could go through this store in one go. 

 

“What even is this place?” Jongho gasps, looking around in awe. San is already holding excitedly in his hands a red snake-print coat made of shiny pvc. 

 

“Just a little cabinet of curiosities!” Mingi announces with a smile. He grabs Jongho’s hand, “Come, I’ll show you around!” 

 

Yunho, Wooyoung and San stay back, hiding their full smiles behind the shirt racks. 

 

The owner of the store is a middle-aged lady who mostly keeps to herself, legs propped on her desk as she reads through a magazine. She greets the boys and exchanges a few words with Mingi, but after that she lets them roam around freely. 

 

Yunho spends most of his time in the jewelry section - there’s cute earrings made of clay and resin, a little rough because of the course of time but still retaining their vivid, pastel colors. 

 

“Hey,” San calls him from behind, “Come check this out.” 

 

Wooyoung and San stand at the far end of the store, hidden behind long racks and dim lighting, “I think these would suit you well,” his friend is holding lacey, strawberry-patterned panties, of all things. 

 

Yunho rolls his eyes, “They look too small to fit me.” 

 

“Okay, no offense,” San leans to the side to take a good look at his behind, “Your ass isn’t that big.” 

 

“Baby,” Wooyoung says, pitifully, “You’re one to talk.” 

 

San clenches his jaw, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

 

“Oh, you know I love your ass, even if it’s as flat as a pancake-” 

 

“Wooyoungie!”

 

“These are cute,” Yunho goes through the lingerie rack, ignoring the commotion behind him. He pulls out a pair of pale blue ones, with threaded cream colored patterns that resemble flowers at the sides of his hips and a tiny bow at the front. The back has a small circle opening, just enough for a sneak peak of his ass to show. “Soft, too…” 

 

“Get them,” Wooyoung encourages him. He’s got his arms around San’s waist, who’s sulking, “Oh! I know! Oh shit, okay, I’m a genius!” he yells into San’s ear, “That’s how you’ll bring up the whole Desire thing - buy the panties, send them pictures and when they eventually compliment you and suggest they buy you more, that’s when you’ll bring it up that you know .” 

 

“This is a way too complicated plan.” 

 

“Okay, so just tell them.” 

 

“No!” 

 

“Great, then it’s settled! Will you get the matching bra, too?” 



 

Sunday is a gloomy day. It rains periodically all day; the ambient noise helps Yunho concentrate on his assignments, the ones that he usually finishes on Fridays so he can spare time for extra practice on the weekends. This time he spends all day in bed, laptop heating his thighs as he types away. It’s too cold and wet outside to even begin thinking about dressing up to go to the dance studio, and all of his friends are either sound asleep or lazing around. 

 

He doesn’t forget about Wooyoung’s idea. The matching set of panties and bra sit in the plastic bag on his desk, staring at him every time he decides to take a break from looking at the screen. He got goodnight texts from both of them last night, when he stumbled into his dorm a tiny bit tipsy from the drinks he offered to pay after they left the thrift store, ignoring how his friends teased him about finally having enough money to order multiple rounds of shots. Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa had mentioned how cute his drunk typing was, and that he should get some sleep and have water next to him in case he wakes up in the middle of the night. Yunho had smiled like a fool and had promptly fallen asleep, drool soaking his pillow, snoring loudly. 

 

He wants to see them so badly. Spending such intimate moments with them didn’t sate his need; in fact, it only made it wilder, like throwing gasoline to an already burning fire. It takes all of his willpower to focus on his homework and not give into the temptation of checking his phone. He downs cup after cup of coffee, eyes turning red and sore until he finally submits his assignments and closes all of his open tabs on his browser, which have accumulated to a double digit number. 

 

The sun has gone down - his phone says 19:50, and he has one message from each man, sent in the early afternoon. They greet him good morning and remind him to take painkillers, and ask how his day is going. Yunho bites his lip, cursing. It’s been hours now, could they be thinking that he’s ignoring them? They didn’t double text, so maybe there was no actual expectation for him to answer right away. 

 

He groans into his pillow, suddenly anxious. 

 

After deliberating it for some time, he gets up and begins taking off his pajamas. The panties feel comfortable against his thighs as they go up. The elastic digs into his asscheeks a little but it looks good - really good. His cock twitches when he looks at himself in the mirror, long muscular legs posing to show off the design of the underwear. His back is too broad for the bra, but he pulls through and clips it in place. The cups squeeze his pecs together tightly, and he can’t resist running his hands down his chest. 

 

He places his phone on the windowsill, drawing the curtains closed and switching on his bedside lamp for more ambient lighting. He takes a few pictures with the self-timer on, back turned towards the camera so that most of his thighs, his ass and the lower part of his torso are visible. Changing positions, he holds his phone and snaps photos of his torso, close-ups of his chest, tummy and legs. Going through them, he blushes profusely when he comes to the realization that he’s getting a semi from looking at his own body. His toes feel numb - he hopes they’ll like them. 

 

Before sending the pictures, he creates a group chat with all three of them together for ease. 

 

[me]: sent 9 attachments. 

 

Yunho exhales loudly, jumping onto the bed on his stomach - he swings his legs back and forth as he waits for a response. His entire body feels like it’s on high alert, heart hammering in his chest. This is ridiculous, he’s already had sex with them, why is he so fucking nervous? 

 

Should he double text? Another minute goes by from the moment he sends them. Biting his bottom lip anxiously, he starts typing again. 

 

[me]: miss you ♥

 

[hj]: f uck. 

 

[hj]: are these

 

[sh]: YUNHO 

 

[hj]: for us baby? 

 

[me]: :) 

 

[me]: perhaps 

 

[me]: do you like them? 

 

[hj is starting a group call. Tap to join.]

 

“Fuck-” he says loudly, rushing to prop his phone on his bed-side table, balanced vertically against his lampshade, and joins the call. 

 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa are together - sitting in what appears to be Seonghwa’s office at the company’s building. Seonghwa sits on his desk chair, legs sprawled comfortably. Hongjoong is perched comfortably on his lap, leaning back into Seonghwa’s torso and chest, waist held tightly by his husband’s arms. They’re a glorious sight - if Yunho wasn’t too busy arranging his body in a position fit for the camera, he would have snapped so many screenshots of the post the two of them are in. Were they already like this before Yunho messaged them? Hongjoong sitting on his husband’s lap, in their company office, languidly making out and grinding against each other - 

 

“Hi baby,” Hongjoong says first, giggling. His eyes are deep and dark, however, as they trace over Yunho’s scandalous form through the camera, “You have no idea how stunning you are.” 

 

The words of praise go straight to Yunho’s cock, blood rushing there at once. Shifting around on his bed, he settles into a position on his knees, feet tucked neatly under his ass, placing his hands gently on his thighs. Obedient. Letting them take a good look at him. They haven’t uttered much in terms of orders or even suggestions, yet he’s taking this position naturally, as if finally sinking under the warm water of a bath, joints clicking in place. Like a doll. 

 

Glancing down, he notices he’s already leaking into his panties. 

 

“Thank you,” he says, lashes touching his high cheekbones, “Got them yesterday, and I wanted to show you.” 

 

“So cute,” Seonghwa sighs dreamily with a smile. Yunho notices that he has sneaked his hand underneath Hongjoong’s trousers, right over his cock. “They suit you so well, baby. Mind turning around for us, so we can see the back?” 

 

“Better yet, get on all fours on the bed,” Hongjoong adds in a much more domineering tone, yet still breathy and high because of Seonghwa’s ministrations over his cock, “Present yourself like a puppy .” 

 

“Hongjoongie,” Seonghwa tuts, “Don’t be too hasty…” 

 

“Ngh! S-sorry,” Hongjoong pants after what sounds like Seonghwa quickening the pace of his fist around his cock, “He just, he just looks too good-” 

 

“I know he does,” Seonghwa’s lips make loud kissing sounds against Hongjoong’s cheek and neck, “Can’t wait to get your hands on him, hm?” 

 

All this time, Yunho has turned his back at the camera with trembling limbs, shaking as he gets on all fours with his ass on a platter for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to see, arching his back. Nails digging into his palms, he grits his teeth as he listens to the two of them talk to each other as if he isn’t right there, in front of them, putting on a show just like they asked. It dawns on him that he’s willing to wait minutes, hours even, until they finally spare some of their attention towards him. He’s going to wait. He can wait. 

 

“Oh, puppy,” Seonghwa coos when he finally stops conversing with Hongjoong. Yunho can’t see them, and the humiliation burns so deliciously under his skin. “So beautiful, it looks so perfect like this. Do you like it?” 

 

Yunho turns around, finally looking at the camera and tucking his legs towards his side, leaning into his arm. Seonghwa has parted Hongjoong’s shirt so that it exposes a significant part of his neck and shoulder, pale skin littered with purple and red bite marks and hickeys. 

 

“I do,” he admits. He can’t even hide it - his cock is fully hard now, pressing against his underwear. He traces his hand absentmindedly over the bra, “Do you think it suits me? Should I wear them more?” 

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hongjoong grunts, “And you should wear them more. Is that something you’d like for us to give you?” Yunho gulps, staying silent for a moment, “Remember you can ask things from us, Yunho. Anything, we’ll give it to you.” 

 

“I, uh,” Yunho clears his throat, playing with the strap of his bra, “I kind of… found out about your company? ‘Desire’ ? This was,” he gestures to the matching lingerie set he’s wearing, “A conversation starter, I guess? I-I mean, I do like it, that’s why I bought it, but um, your designs are much prettier, and -” 

 

“Oh, puppy,” Hongjoong giggles, snuggling into Seonghwa’s embrace. They’ve moved their phone from its still position. Seonghwa now holds it in his hand, and their faces are much closer, “I really should have mentioned it earlier, mhmm …” Yunho sits there and watches the way Hongjoong’s lashes flutter at the onslaught of open-mouthed kisses Seonghwa attack his throat with, “Do you want to be spoiled, Yunho?” 

 

“Yes,” he answers breathlessly. 

 

“Ask nicely,” Seonghwa’s voice is low and vibrating. 

 

Yunho’s cock jumps, getting even harder, if that’s even possible. Fuck, he wants to touch himself so badly. “Can-can I be spoiled, please?” 

 

“That’s good,” Hongjoong whines, addressing both his husband and Yunho through the call. 

 

“Can I touch myself, please?” Yunho blurts out, gripping the sheets. There’s sweat accumulating on his forehead from the exertion of staying still and pretty throughout the tension. 

 

“Touch yourself, go on, you asked so nicely and you waited so patiently,” in Seonghwa’s expression, there’s something wild and dark hidden beneath his saccharine smile and his soft features. Yunho craves to push against it, just to get a reaction, but he’s too overwhelmed by the novelty of the experience to try anything new or be a brat on purpose. 

 

“Can you,” he begins again, sighing when his hand finally skirts over the giant bulge of his thin panties - carefully, as if the slightest of touches could light him on fire, “Can you call me puppy, please?” He squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassed at the way these words sound out loud coming from his own desperate and disappointingly empty mouth, “I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” 

 

“Puppy,” Seonghwa immediately says, and Yunho convulses with euphoria as he finally takes his cock out of his panties and starts jerking himself off, his other gripping his own thigh, “See, doesn’t that feel nice? Asking for what you’ve always wanted?” 

 

“Mmhm!” 

 

“Hongjoongie, doesn’t he look so pretty like this?” 

 

“So pretty,” Hongjoong cries out - his husband has sneaked his other hand under his shirt, playing with his nipples, “Are you desperate for us, Yunho? You want to come?” 

 

“Please,” Yunho cries out. His insides are on fire, hand messily squeezing and jerking his cock off, and it’s taking every bit of his self control to not come before he’s told to, “Need to, can’t, please, I’m -” 

 

“Go on, Yunho. Be a good, messy puppy and come all over yourself.” 

 

Seonghwa says so, but Yunho’s eyes are shut tight as he coats the lingerie, his stomach and his hand with his orgasm - there’s so much cum, all sticky and warm and it takes a while for him to stop trembling as he comes down from his climax, panting and mumbling incoherent words, grasping the sheets. He even forgets he’s still on call with them, until he hears Hongjoong giggle. “You’re so hot, Yunho.” 

 

“Stop,” he breathes out with embarrassment, stumbling when he reaches for his tissues from his bedside table to clean himself. “I can’t feel my legs, fuck-” 

 

“Aw, puppy,” Seonghwa laughs, “Was it too much? We didn’t even discuss-” 

 

“It’s all good,” Yunho reassures them, taking off his soaked lingerie and throwing them haphazardly on the floor of his dorm. He doesn’t bother to pick them up for now. “I-I wanted it, felt amazing… Did you, uh, finish?” 

 

“Not yet,” Hongjoong says, shuddering. Seonghwa must have slowed down, since both of them are focused on Yunho for now. “I will later… now, it’s Yunho time.” 

 

Yunho giggles, hugging his knees to his chest. He really should put some clothes on, but he doesn’t mind staying like this while they watch. 

 

“So, what textures do you like most?” he asks. 

 

“Huh?” 

 

“Lace, cotton, something skimpier like leather,” Seonghwa explains, “I like cotton most, it’s soft and doesn’t irritate my skin and yes, some people may think it’s boring and old-fashioned but Hongjoongie’s designs are amazing-” 

 

“And your prefered colors, too,” Hongjoong notes, “Or, if you’d like, you can pick them out from the site yourself-” 

 

Ah, lingerie. Yunho smiles, ears going red, “I want you two to pick for me. Whatever you think suits me.” 

 

Seonghwa pouts, “But it’s important that it’s something suited to your taste and comfort, baby…” 

 

“I know you’ll take that into consideration,” Yunho says, and he grins when he sees the effect his words have on the two men, even though the janky connection of his phone that’s making the screen pixelated. “You two know how to take care of me.” 

 

The rest of their call goes by with soft-spoken words, small talk and praise - even if they aren’t there to hold him in their arms and cuddle him to sleep, the two men make sure their words are coated with honey, wrapping around Yunho’s body like fuzzy cotton candy and lulling him into the calmest state of mind. 

 

“When will I see you again?” he asks when he sees that their call has been going on for more than an hour and a half and the two men are still at work. 

 

“Whenever you want, Yunho baby,” Hongjoong replies, “Say the word, and we’re yours. We’ll always take time for you.” 

 

When they finally end the call, Yunho curls into his comforter naked and lethargic. There’s still arousal swimming in the bottom of his tummy as he thinks about Seonghwa and Hongjoong, but he only manages to stroke his cock twice before sleep takes over him and he passes out with his mouth drooling on the pillow. 





I’ve picked out some pieces for you, puppy. Wanna come by my studio at around 2pm? Would love to see you try them on for me. 

 

“It hurts to see others living your dream,” San sighs wistfully, cuddled up next to Wooyoung, who pouts and nods in agreement. 

 

Yunho wordlessly shoves his books inside his bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. Ever since receiving that text from Hongjoong at 7 in the fucking morning, he’s been running around like a headless chicken, scrambling to coordinate both prepping himself in the shower for potential fucking, eating breakfast so that he doesn’t pass out on his run to class, and running to said morning class. 

 

“I’m expecting some form of payment for the notes,” Wooyoung reminds him. Since Yunho is skipping his afternoon class for this date (an instance he promises to himself he’ll try not to repeat again), his two friends have been assigned with this task. “Paying for dinner will suffice, I think.” 

 

“Sure,” Yunho mumbles absentmindedly, zipping up his bag. 

 

“And dessert too,” San adds, and Yunho nods, not really listening. His panties - the cream-colored ones, now clean and dry - are kind of digging into his ass once again. He has been wearing them all morning, after all. “Oi, you okay?” 

 

“Just, excited…” Yunho admits, “Gonna visit Hongjoong’s studio today.” 

 

“You guys gonna play dress-up or something?” Wooyoung laughs. 

 

“Don’t know,” Yunho swings his bag over his shoulder and walks towards the exit of the classroom. He turns around, a cheeky smile on his lips, “He’s the one who makes the rules. I’ll just try to behave, I guess. Later!” 

 

Wooyoung and San howl and whistle as he runs down the stairs, skipping every two steps and pushing gently through the crowd. 

 

He’s aware of the fact that he walks quickly because of his height, yet he’s still surprised when he arrives in front of the company’s offices in only a few minutes. Since it's still early afternoon, most employees are on lunch break, so the ground floor lobby is void of people loudly talking or rushing from one office to another. 

 

The receptionist recognizes him immediately but doesn’t make a fuss about it, and she quickly scribbles down his name before informing him where Hongjoong’s studio is located. She offers to bring someone to accompany him, but he politely declines, and takes off. 

 

The studio is located on the second floor, where it’s quiet and secluded. When the elevator doors open, he’s met with three doors, two of which lead to offices and a third one with no indicating clue to what may lie beyond it other than the initials KHJ carved into a metallic plaque. There’s funky pop music playing inside, loud enough that Yunho hesitates to knock in case Hongjoong doesn’t hear him. Alas, he bites the bullet and knocks three times, clutching his bag close to his shoulder, toes squirming inside his shoes. 

 

The music volume lowers and a familiar voice calls him, “Come in!” 

 

Hongjoong’s studio is huge - Yunho doesn’t really know what he was expecting. He’s been to the art workshops at his university, but those are nothing compared to the loft-sized workspace Hongjoong operates in. There’s so many clothes and patterns stacked in racks one behind the other, displayed on large tables in between measuring tapes, scissors and pins. Posters, designs and prototypes are hung on the concrete walls - Hongjoong is looking at one right now, with his back turned towards Yunho. It’s too far to make out the details, but it looks like a gown. 

 

“Hongjoong?” 

 

The man turns around, a huge smile appearing on his face when he notices Yunho. He walks towards the sound system and lowers the volume, until it’s so faint it can fade out as background noise. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and fitted forest green trousers, short enough to reveal his bare ankles and a pair of designer loafers. His long hair is tied in a low bun, the shorter strands of his mullet framing his face. Blue crystal earrings peak through his dark hair, catching the light in the prettiest way. 

 

Yunho’s chest swells with a feeling he’s too afraid to name. 

 

“You came,” Hongjoong’s voice is high but soft. He gets on his tip-toes and plants a kiss on Yunho’s surprised mouth, wet and noisy as he sucks his bottom lip with passion. “I’m all alone today, no one is going to bother us. How was class?” 

 

“Good,” Yunho lets Hongjoong take his coat and bag and place them on the nearest desk, “I missed you.” 

 

“Missed you too, baby. It’s been so busy here, I’ve got so much stuff to do… I’m sorry I couldn’t arrange anything sooner, even though I promised that I’d make time for you-” 

 

“Hongjoong, please,” Yunho says, “I’ve been busy too. It’s alright, I could manage.” 

 

It’s been a couple of days ever since their facetime call, swarmed with lectures, practices and running errands for Yunho - however, no matter how hectic his schedule is, he was still frantically checking his phone at every given opportunity, impatiently waiting for a text from them. So, did he manage? Barely. 

 

“Seonghwa is in a meeting right now,” Hongjoong mentions, “For the upcoming showcase. So, it’s just the two of us. Want to see what I’ve picked out for you?” The shorter man quickly closes the distance between them, crowding Yunho and pressing his ample chest against Yunho’s torso. He drags his palm over the other’s shoulder, softly caressing his arm until he can thread his fingers between Yunho’s.

 

Now that Hongjoong is this close, Yunho can take a better look at his features - his eyes are characteristically lined with smudged eye-liner and copious amounts of mascara, but he’s foregone shaping his brows. His gaze looks even more intense like this, the contours and shadows making his eyes look bigger, as if they can see right through Yunho’s soul. Waiting. 

 

A part of Yunho wants him to lower his gaze, whimper all coy and give Hongjoong the satisfaction of stuttering out a plea. But a bigger, fiercer part of him wishes to look Hongjoong straight into his chestnut eyes, use his advantageous height and challenge him. 

 

“Is it pretty?” he asks instead of answering Hongjoong’s question, pleased in the animated movement of the other’s brows. 

 

“Only the prettiest for you. Come with me, let me show you.” 

 

He’s led to a door at the far end of the studio, one that’s hidden behind a mauve curtain. The room waiting behind it is way smaller, covered in soft, fuzzy carpet and rococco-inspired tapiserrie and framed mirrors. It’s similar to a vintage boudoir, with subtle shades of pink, red and gold all around. Yunho also notices the ring lights pointing towards one of the walls, switched off for the time being. 

 

“I usually shoot the pictures for Desire here,” Hongjoong explains, “That’s why it’s totally different than the rest of the studio.” 

 

“Like the ones of yourself?” Yunho asks, “I, um, I recognized you while browsing the photos.” 

 

Hongjoong’s smile is sly, confident, “Some of them were taken with a self-timer, others I asked Seonghwa to help me out. He’s a great photographer.” 

 

“Mmm,” Yunho murmurs. His mind is positively full, imagination running wild. 

 

“There’s only been one collection so far, and since this is a passion project of mine, I’ve got a much more hands-on approach in everything.” 

 

“Well, even so, you offer quite a lot of stuff.” 

 

“Mm, told you I could get you anything you wanted,” Hongjoong giggles. “Let me show you what I picked out for you.” 

 

Yunho takes a seat on a dark purple sofa while Hongjoong goes through the pieces from one of the racks; the first one he shows him is a pistachio green ensemble - a two piece consisting of a soft, triangle-shaped bralette with rosebud details on the straps, and a set of panties with ample space at the front, room for what Yunho presumes would be his cock. He’s instantly reminded of the tight underwear he’s currently wearing, that’s clearly not made to accommodate someone with a penis. But the one Hongjoong is showing him looks so well made, its fabric comfortable yet elegant, feminine in a way that makes Yunho’s tummy curl with happiness but doesn’t compromise his comfort. This is clearly made with intent, not just a ‘costume’ to put on. 

 

“Figured it would contrast your pastel hair really well, baby,” he says, his voice a low vibrato that tickles Yunho’s insides. 

 

He smiles shyly; his hair is slowly starting to fade from the pastel pink color, giving way to the brassy blond underneath, and he really needs to get his roots retouched if he wants to keep it up, but the jumble of thoughts dissipates when Hongjoong reaches out to pet his hair, then drags his palm down to cup his cheek and squish it. 

 

“I think I’ve got your size down well, but it’d be best if you could try them on for me,” he continues and oh - Yunho feels the atmosphere shift around him at Hongjoong’s tone. “Now, what color are these?” 

 

“Green.” 

 

“Good. Are you familiar with the color system?” Oh. 

 

He nods eagerly, “Yes, Hongjoong. Green for go, red for stop, and yellow for slow down.” 

 

Obviously, he did come here with the intention of something more other than a simple small talk about lingerie over lunch, but the realization that something is going to happen right here, in Hongjoong’s studio, at Hongjoong’s company, where, potentially, anyone could come seek him out for a meeting or a phone call is… well, Yunho is already getting a semi just thinking about it, so it’s delightful.  

 

“Yunho?” a hand tips his chin. “There we go, look at me. Gonna be good for me, hm?” his thumb spreads across Yunho’s bottom lip, eliciting a tiny gasp from him. “Go on, try the first one for me. There’s a dressing room right here-” 

 

“Wanna do it here,” Yunho says, already slipping out of his pants. He wants to feel Hongjoong’s scorching gaze over his skin as he puts it on, wants to plunge himself deep into the feeling of humiliation and the arousal that comes with it. “Can I?” 

 

The man takes a seat on the couch, crossing his legs, a haughty smirk on his face. “Go on.” 

 

Yunho carefully strips down his pants and takes off his sweater and undershirt, until he’s standing there only wearing the thrifted panties and his socks. With a swift movement, Hongjoong extends his arm and hooks his index finger in the hem of the underwear, pulling Yunho’s entire body towards him until he’s face to face with Yunho’s torso, breathing warm against his skin. 

 

“They’re even cuter up close,” Hongjoong chuckles. 

 

“Wanna wear yours, though,” Yunho says, voice growing higher when Hongjoong spreads his tongue flat over the peak of his happy trail that appears over the hem. “I - ah!” he squirms when he feels the tongue drag upwards, until the edge of it is dipping into his belly button, Hongjoong’s pointy nose poking the light hair on his tummy. His hands come up to hold his body by his ass cheeks, black nails digging into the plump flesh and immobilizing him so that, no matter how much he squirms and whines, he can’t get away until Hongjoong has had his fill of him. 

 

“So soft,” Yunho shivers at Hongjoong’s tone, a shudder that runs from his nape to his toes. He craves to get felt up, prodded around in all the places that bring him pleasure but also make him squirm and make him feel shameful - he wants to bask in it all. “But I want them off.” 

 

Yunho’s cock springs out of the tight fabric when Hongjoong finally pulls them down, the tip of it bumping against the other’s plump lips - the touch doesn’t last for more than a second, yet Yunho’s body jerks as if he’s been electrocuted. 

 

Hongjoong explicitly pays no mind to his growing hardness, instead choosing to bring over the pistachio-colored two-piece and holding it stretched in front of Yunho’s legs, right around his calves. “Step into it, baby.” 

 

Once Yunho does, the other pulls the underwear up - the texture is delightfully soft and luxurious as it travels up his knees and thighs, hugging his ass but not completely covering it. With a gentle hand, Hongjoong cups his semi in his hand and tucks it inside the fabric, until the hem settles right at his v-line, underneath his tummy. 

 

It’s so euphoric, having his body handled like this by Hongjoong, who, in the midst of dressing Yunho up like his own personal doll, has pursed his lips in concentration, eyes squinting as he adjusts the piece on Yunho’s body to fit him perfectly. Wordlessly, he lets go and reaches for the bralette. 

 

“Kneel.” 

 

Yunho whimpers, brows drawn together in a plea. It awakens a carnal desire in him, seeing Hongjoong leisurely sat on the couch, refusing to get up until Yunho stoops low enough for him. 

 

Instead of helping Yunho into the garment first, his hands come up to stroke over his pecs - the rings around his fingers are shockingly cold against Yunho’s flushed chest, the metal dragging over his perky nipples as they harden instantaneously. And Yunho can’t help but let out a low moan, because his chest has always been sensitive, and even though he’s not the type to build muscle as he prefers his body to be more fluid and malleable for dance, when he does go to the gym he makes sure to work on his legs and chest. 

 

Hongjoong seems particularly appreciative of his chest, because he doesn’t hesitate to shove his face between his pecs and sigh loudly, lips peppering kisses all over the skin and suckling gently over his nipples. “H-hongjoong-” 

 

“Mhm?” 

 

“Sensitive…” 

 

“What is?” 

 

“My, my….” Yunho’s mind is thick cotton, empty, numb. 

 

“What’s sensitive? Your tits ?” Oh fuck, “They’re so pretty, so plump. You should show them off more often.” 

 

“J-just for you,” his jaw shakes as he says those words, eyes slowly slipping shut - Hongjoong is now twisting his nipples with his fingers, and his nearly pavlovian response is to drop his jaw open and drool like a dog. 

 

“Just because they’re for us that doesn’t mean you can’t show them off,” Hongjoong chuckles, helping Yunho slip his arms through the straps of the bralette and fitting the triangle-shaped cups over his pecs. He then leans forward, settling his chin in the spot where Yunho’s neck meets his shoulder, and clips it in place at the back, “So obedient, looks so beautiful on you. Wanna see yourself in the mirror, baby?” 

 

Yunho isn’t sure if he can stand on his own two feet, but he nods anyway. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth as he stands up, stumbling like a fawn to the full-length mirror balanced against one of the corners of the room. 

 

He loves it. 

 

No matter how embarrassed he feels as he takes in his reflection, the flush in his cheeks, Hongjoong’s hands on his hips keeping him from swaying around, he can’t help his heart from hammering in his chest with how beautiful he feels, how the garments hug his body and his curves and muscles. The color compliments his skin wonderfully, and the embroidered details of lace, leaves and rosebuds make for some of the most interesting and well-crafted pieces of clothing he’s ever worn. 

 

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Hongjoong’s hands squeeze around his hips, “It’s perfect.” 

 

Hongjoong peaks his head over Yunho’s shoulder, satisfied grin on his lips, “I’m glad you like it, puppy.” Fingers thread through his hair, and Hongjoong doesn’t pull but he holds him in place effectively. In their reflection in the mirror, Yunho can see their contrasting height, and he catches the glint in Hongjoong’s eyes when his other hand reaches to grasp his jaw. He turns his head and joins their lips in a loud, fervent kiss. 

 

It’s wet and needy and has Yunho’s knees shaking every time he feels the poke of Hongjoong’s tongue in the inside of his mouth; Hongjoong keeps him there, kissing him until his jaw starts to ache and the other chooses to spare him, letting go of his spit-covered, swollen lips and dragging his palms over Yunho’s chest instead. Ring-covered fingers explore his body, playing with the straps of his underwear, pinching at his sides and holding him from his hips, slamming his ass to Hongjoong’s front. 

 

There’s fingers quickly spreading his ass cheeks, until the underwear slips in between then and Hongjoong can nestle the outline of his clothed cock there, “Something tells me you came prepared.” 

 

“I-I- ah!” he yelps when Hongjoong slips a finger under his underwear and prods at the excess lube around his hole. He pushes in gently, just the tip of his middle finger, and Yunho gets red when he hears Hongjoong’s satisfied chuckle. “Please, more-” 

 

“You want more? Right here, in my studio?” 

 

“Yes, I - fuck, Hongjoong, please, I’ve been thinking about this for so long!” 

 

“Mm, is that so? What have you been thinking about? Getting fucked at work? Not even letting me take you home, where we can have our privacy -”

 

“It’s private here, too-” Yunho talks back, eyes rolling back when Hongjoong shoves his finger deeper. 

 

“Not really, no,” Hongjong answers with ease, “I haven’t locked the door, puppy.” Yunho yelps, thighs shaking. “Oh, I can feel how tightly you clenched around my finger. Anyone could walk in right now and see you like this. Didn’t even have enough time to warn any of my assistants. You’re lucky you haven’t been caught like this yet.” 

 

Without any warning, Hongjoong pushes against the inside of his knees with his legs, letting Yunho fall onto the carpet. It doesn’t take much shoving, and it doesn’t hurt Yunho at all, but he’s so flabbergasted by the erotic shock that pulses through him that he doesn’t have much time to react before there’s a hand wrapping around his torso, holding him tightly against Hongjoong’s cock, and another sneaking two fingers into his mouth. 

 

“Suck.” 

 

He does so vigorously, coating them with enough spit until his mouth is full of it and his tongue is going numb from licking over the pads of Hongjoong’s fingers. He loses himself in the task, engrossed in the moment, in the feel of being useful and obeying Hongjoong’s command, so much so that he doesn’t realize the other has pushed his underwear to the side until he’s forced to let go of them, a thick line of drool hanging from his lips. 

 

Hongjoong shoves two fingers inside of him slowly, making him sigh at the sensation - the stretch of it hurts just a little, since most of the lube he used to open himself up in the morning has dried out by now. He ignores it, but Hongjoong notices the slight wince he makes when he shoves his fingers deeper. 

 

“No…” Yunho protests when he feels empty again, shuddering. He needs to get filled up so badly, it’s making him shiver. 

 

“Be good for me,” Hongjoong reminds him. “Get on all fours, I’ll be back in a moment.” 

 

Yunho sulks but obeys - he doesn’t have enough time to get antsy about being left alone, however, because as soon as Hongjoong gets up and leaves the room, he comes back equipped with a bottle of lube. 

 

“Don’t need it - fuck!” A hard slap lands on his ass cheek - precum leaks into his panties. 

 

“Haven’t even started playing with you and you’re already being a difficult mutt?” Hongjoong’s hand is burning hot on his skin. “Thought I told you to be good.” He coats his fingers with lube and approaches Yunho’s hole again, shoving one finger in first, then pushing another. The added wetness feels incredible, slick sounds filling the room as Hongjoong fucks his fingers into him. 

 

“Ngmh, fuck,” Yunho cries out, “P-please, more - not enough, can’t-” 

 

“You’ll take what I give you,” Hongjoong growls, landing another slap on his other ass cheek, “Hm, you’re seriously making me consider collaring you…” 

 

“Fuck, please!”  

 

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

 

“Unhg, please!” 

 

“Beg for it,” Hongjoong says, rustling around behind Yunho. After a moment, he presses his cockhead against his hole, but doesn’t push in. Yunho cries out, moving his hips desperately to push back and sit on Hongjoong’s cock that’s so close to entering him. Unfortunately, the other simply holds him in place, refusing to enter him, “Yeah, yeah, whine all you want. I’m waiting, puppy.” 

 

“Please!” Yunho cries out, guttural groans leaving his mouth. He’s so needy, he’s going crazy for it; he’s been waiting to be filled like this for so long, for Hongjoong to ruin him and put him back together, “Please, ‘m begging you, Hongjoongie, need your cock, sir - ah fuck!” 

 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so good,” Hongjoong moans out, cock dragging inside of Yunho’s hole until he’s buried to the base, his balls slapping with each slow thrust while he lets Yunho adjust, “So good, puppy, taking me so well. How does it feel, having sir’s cock inside of you?” 

 

Yunho’s eyes roll backwards - Hongjoong’s cock feels so thick and warm inside of him, filling him up to the hilt, pulsing inside of him like an expanding heat. He can’t find the words to answer, can only groan and whine and shiver as Hongjoong pushes in and out slowly. His knees are dragging across the carpet, and while it’s soft and comfy as is, the continuous motion is making redness bloom on his legs, an added sensation that only fuels his cock to leak more precum. 

 

Suddenly, Hongjoong grabs onto his hair and pulls his head up so that he looks at himself in the mirror, “Look at yourself and answer me,” he says, oh and Yunho looks. He gawks at his own reflection, takes in his fucked-dumb expression and how flushed his skin is, his hard, neglected cock still struggling against the confines of his underwear, the arch of his spine, and finally Hongjoong’s still clothed body looming over him. 

 

He’s almost naked, getting railed on the floor of Hongjoong’s workspace, while Hongjoong has only considered getting his cock out to fuck him. If he thinks about it too much, he’s gonna pass out. 

 

“Ghnhg, sir, feels amazing sir, so full, need more!” 

 

Hongjoong lets go off his hair and takes hold of his hips, then starts fucking him at a brutal pace, not caring about how Yunho is going to arrange himself on the carpet to get comfortable. If Yunho wasn’t getting fucked dumb, he would be in awe of how strong Hongjoong is despire his small stature - but, in this case, he gets shoved further into the carpet as the other pistons his hips, pushing his cock in and out, going so deep that Yunho feels like he’s going to burst. 

 

He’s waited so long for this - to have Hongjoong fill him to the brim; elegant, beautiful, snarky Kim Hongjoong. To watch the man who moves with such ease and grace, who blooms art and color out of everything he touches become undone and consumed, gaze heavy and mouth spitting filth towards him as he pounds him. And even though he knows, when this is over, that Hongjoong will cradle him in his chest and brush his sweat-soaked hair out of his forehead, even though Yunho knows this is to come, he’d still crave to be used by Hongjoong just like this, even if it meant getting tossed to the side at the end of the day. 

 

Hongjoong slows down, “My good boy, you’re so messy,” he says while helping turn Yunho on his back, fitting between his legs. He takes hold of his knees and pushes them towards Yunho’s torso, then brings Yunho’s hands close and holds them with one hand against his chest. Like this, he secures his grip on him before starting to fuck into him once again, rough and messy thrusts that make his insides convulse and tears prickle in his eyes. 

 

“Take it so well, ah, fuck-” Hongjoong whines when his thrusts start getting erratic and even messier, a sign that he’s getting close. “So beautiful, spread out for me like this. So tight, puppy, gonna make me come like this-” 

 

“P-please,” Yunho begs, tears slipping from his eyes. He hadn’t realized just how far into it Hongjoong had pushed him, but now he does, when his cheeks get wet and his hole clenches tighter around Hongjoong’s thrusting cock, making the other hiss, “F-fill me with it, sir, please!” 

 

When Hongjoong finally comes, his nails dig so deep in Yunho’s arm it stings . His hair has unraveled from the low bun, cascading down his shoulders and in front of his face. He comes with Yunho’s name on his lips, spurting cum and painting Yunho’s guts with it, and Yunho cries out at the euphoric sensation, cock twitching in his panties. Having his cock neglected has never felt so good. 

 

“Yunho,” Hongjoong’s voice sounds far away, until he slumps down on Yunho’s chest, eliciting a cough out of him, “Yah, puppy, you okay?”

 

“Mmm, Hongjoongie,” he sighs, stupidly happy, “Feels so nice like this… but your sweater is so fucking hot it’s unbearable.” It earns him a slap on the thigh, and he winces, then giggles. 

 

“How do you find the energy to be a brat after I’m done with you?” 

 

“Mm, m-maybe you didn’t go as hard as you could…” 

 

“I beg to differ,” Hongjoong leans in, softly kissing Yunho at first as bait, then biting down on his bottom lip, the fucking bastard. “‘Sir’?” 

 

Yunho is going to die. “Hongjoong, please,” he whines, burning with embarrassment. 

 

“Oh hush, that’s nothing to what I’m planning on doing with you. Now sit back and let sir make you come.” 

 

Only Hongjoong doesn’t have the time to do much other than get his cock out of Yunho’s ass before his phone rings - a loud sound that startles them both. 

 

“Oh Yunho,” Hongjoong sighs when he looks at his phone. It’s not a call, but a calendar reminder, “Baby, I have a meeting.” 

 

Yunho sits up, “When?” 

 

“In five minutes. In this studio.” 

 

“Oh, shit,” Yunho’s eyes bulge out. He’s gonna need some help getting up after getting fucked so thoroughly, and there’s cum still dripping out of his ass, for fuck’s sake, “I-I mean, I could stay here…” 

 

“I’m not locking you in here in your underwear, there’s not even a bathroom here, and this is gonna take a while for sure… Unless…” 

 

Yunho watches Hongjoong get up, buttoning his trousers hastily and calls someone on his phone. He sets it on the couch on speaker, then begins ruffling through the drawers of one of the boudoirs. 

 

The voice of the person who responds is familiar, but Hongjoong is already speaking, “ Jagiya , please tell me you’re not busy, my dear.” 

 

“Mm, no, just have to make a few calls and then I’m pretty much free for the afternoon,” Seonghwa says. 

 

“That’s lovely,” Hongjoong says, kneeling on the carpet and approaching Yunho’s limp body once again. He’s holding something in his palm - a simple, silver plug, with a jewel at the top. “I have one Jeong Yunho at your disposal.” 

 

“Oh? Are you done hoarding him to yourself, darling?” 

 

“No, but I have a meeting I didn’t account for,” Hongjoong explains in a calm tone, but his hands are working the plug inside Yunho’s loose, cum-filled ass, plugging him up effectively. Yunho shudders at first but then sighs at the pleasant feeling of being filled again, and the novelty of the toy inside of him has his thighs trembling with excitement and excess energy. Hongjoong doesn’t miss that, of course, and leans down to press soft kisses on the muscles, petting his legs and nosing over the skin with care. 

 

“Ah, Hongjoong-ah…” 

 

“Don’t scold me, I’m a busy man,” Hongjoong pouts, “I’ll send Yunho up now. You’ll take care of our puppy, won’t you?” 

 

“Of course I will. Are you sure he can get to me on his own?” 

 

Yunho whines affirmatively, and in response, Hongjoong brings his palm up to cup his cheek, pinching it and then ruffling his hair. His cock twitches; it arouses him greatly to listen to the two men talk about him as if he isn’t even there. 

 

Hongjoong kisses him softly, lips mouthing around Yunho’s and feeling like velvet, “Yeah, he’s okay. Be good to him, alright? He’s a bit antsy.” 

 

Seonghwa huffs through the phone, “Hongjoong-ah, you didn’t even make him come?”  

 

Hongjoong giggles, “Sending him up now. Love you, darling.” 

 

“Love you too, honey.” 

 

After that, Hongjoong helps Yunho dress up, buttoning his trousers and putting on his sweater over the pistachio-colored lingerie set. Yunho feels like jelly, blinking slowly while the other’s hand passes over his body and touches him oh so affectionately. “Such a good boy,” Hongjoong keeps saying, kissing Yunho’s collarbones and neck, “You sure you can get to him on your own?” 

 

“Mhm,” Yunho hums. “I can do it…” he thinks for a moment, then speaks again, “Green.” 

 

“Perfect,” Hongjoong rewards him with a kiss on the lips, “There we go, all dressed up. Seonghwa’s waiting for you, puppy.” 





Yunho feels like he’s floating.  

 

He’s barely stepping on the marble flooring as he walks through the brightly lit corridors of the second floor in search of the elevator. There’s a pleasant fragrance, sweet but fresh, that permeates the hallways, and there’s so many people walking next to him but not paying him any attention; just passing by, unaware of the state he is. It’s a thrilling sensation, tickles the backs of his thighs and raises goosebumps across his nape, keeps him restless underneath a weighted blanket of pink fuzz, high on sugar and love. 

 

He clenches around the plug in his ass - oh , it feels so good, he could fall to his knees right at this instant if he could. 

 

Alas, he finally reaches the elevators, he squeezes himself in between the large crowd filing in, until he can slump his back against the far back. The doors close, and the elevator begins going up. 

 

People file in and out, and Yunho catches words and murmurs mid-conversation; it makes for pleasant background noise, since he’s too out of it to care. He focuses on the blinking light indicating which floor the elevator is ascending towards, holding his hands in front of his body and playing skittishly with his fingers. 

 

Two floors before Seonghwa’s office, most of the other people leave the elevator, and only two come in. 

 

“Yunho?” 

 

“Ten!” Yunho yelps out - Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s personal assistant is dressed in a loose, floral patterned two-piece today, and he’s not alone. He’s accompanied by another man, who’s attached to Ten’s hip. He’s got washed-out pink hair and a radiant, razor sharp smile that makes Yunho shift on his feet, stomach swirling. “H-hi!” 

 

“Hi!” Ten matches the tone of his voice, smiling until his eyes are little crescents, “Let me introduce you; Yunho, this is YangYang, my boyfriend.” 

 

“Nice to meet you…” 

 

“Nice to meet you, too, Yunho!”

 

So this is Ten’s boyfriend - the two of them seem to complete each other almost perfectly, Yunho thinks as he stares at them. They lean into each other even when talking to him, and whereas Ten is always professionally elegant, his boyfriend has a more restless, more spontaneous disposition. They complete each other quite well. 

 

“I wasn’t aware you’d come today, did you just arrive? Want me to help you with anything-” 

 

“Ah, no, ‘m good,” Yunho talks as if his mouth is filled with cotton candy, like when he used to get drunk with his friends on the weekends and then try to convince his parents he wasn’t inebriated at all when he’d stumble home in the early morning. “I got here a while ago, but Hongjoong has a meeting now. So I, uhm, I’m going up to see Seonghwa.” 

 

Ten gives him a knowing smile, “Alright, you know to call me if you need anything, although I’m sure Mr. Park will beat you to it. I’ll be in my office.” 

 

Just in time, they reach the highest floor where Seonghwa’s office is located. The two men engage in small-talk with him while they escort him down the hallway, and he waves at them when they inevitably arrive in front of Ten’s office. 

 

And then, it’s just him. And the bedazzled plug up his ass. 

 

And no one has any idea of what he’s going through. They’re not paying attention to him at all, too busy working and making calls, but Yunho can’t help but imagine what it would be like if someone were to spare a longer glance at him… Would they notice the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, the redness on his cheeks, neck and ears, the tightness that has taken over his body as he tries to move as inconspicuously as possible? Would they blush and look the other way? Would they look at him with disdain, an upturn on their lip at how desperate and shameless he is? Or, would they get closer, craving to get their hands on him?

 

When he reaches Seonghwa’s door, his hard cock is tenting against his trousers, leaking into the gifted panties, and he’s one breath away from whining for someone to touch him. This dragged-out pleasure flows through him like waves. 

 

“Come in.” 

 

Seonghwa is sitting cross-legged on his grand desk chair, phone clutched between his ear and his shoulder. He catches Yunho’s eyes for a brief moment before turning back to scribbling at a paper on his desk - apparently he’s having a very important conversation, judging by the crease of his brows and the pout on his lips. He’s wearing a low-cut blouse with ruffled shoulders, a pastel vanilla color that reflects the lights beautifully and leaves a good portion of the middle of his chest out in the open, tan skin shining with fragrant body lotion. Yunho’s mouth is dry as the desert, knees shaking, ready to collapse. 

 

Seonghwa signals at him with his fingers but doesn’t look up. Yunho scurries towards him, as if under a spell. 

 

“Yes, I think that would be ideal,” Seonghwa explains on the phone, voice smooth and professional. 

 

He uncrosses his legs and makes a show of spreading them as far as possible, settling back in his chair, lounging. With his other hand, he touches the zipper. 

 

Yunho falls to his knees instantly. 

 

He mouths over the denim fabric of Seonghwa’s jeans, desperate and inconsistent, fumbles with the half-opened zipper and pushes down his underwear, until Seonghwa’s flushed, leaking cock springs out, bumping against his lips. 

 

“Let’s schedule it a few hours before the show,” Seonghwa continues speaking. He closes his fist around his cock and gives Yunho a brief look before feeding into his open, waiting mouth. Seonghwa’s eyes have a faint glint in them, a dangerous flame that peaks shyly through his professional, indifferent facade. “It wouldn’t be wise to bring you in backstage seconds before the models walk the runway, with everyone running around.” 

 

Yunho closes his lips around the heated shaft, poking out his tongue to ease in the underside - his mouth is so full and Seonghwa’s cock is so warm and big, filling up his cheeks and throat, the weight of it only encouraging Yunho to crave for more. Long fingers thread through his hair gently, tugging on it and slowly creating a rhythm, slow and steady, of Yunho bobbing his head up and down, in and out, a pace that’s gentle but keeps him in his place. 

 

“Perfect, I’m very glad we get to have such an opportunity,” Seonghwa continues. He stops tugging on Yunho’s hair, now that the other has taken the hang of it, his mouth filling up with excess spit. But, nevertheless, Seonghwa keeps his hand there, cradling his scalp and nape. “Oh? Yes, please tell me.” 

 

Slurping sounds fill the room as threads of spit droop from Yunho’s red lips as they pucker around the flushed tip, before sinking Seonghwa’s cock right back it, until it taps against the back of his throat - he whimpers quietly, loving the sensation of being on his knees with his ass plugged and Seonghwa holding him in place as he cockwarms him while he pays no attention to him, using him like a toy. 

 

And Seonghwa looks so calm, almost disinterested, like he’s doing Yunho a favor by even letting him suck his dick. 

 

Yunho’s toes curl as pleasure rushes through his body at the thought. 

 

“Hm.” Seonghwa hums, and by his tone he doesn’t sound pleased. For a moment, Yunho thinks he’s done something wrong, that he’s about to be reprimanded, and that initial shock is enough to jolt some shameful pleasure into his loins. But then, Seonghwa’s hand reaches Yunho’s cheek, and cups it tenderly, to indicate that he’s not speaking to him, and that he should get back to sucking. 

 

“I find no reason for this particular arrangement… If you wish to book an interview for the two of us, that can happen at a later date. But, as you know, my husband is the visionary of the brand, he’s the creator, he is the one who needs his creative vision and his story told to the world. I fail to understand how a personal meeting with me would be of any use, considering my priorities currently lie towards my work.” 

 

Yunho is aware that Seonghwa is probably saying something important, but his mouth is becoming deliciously numb, spit coating his lips and running down his chin, the taste of it so addicting and the need to behave and be good only spurring him further. 

 

“Mhm, glad we can agree on that,” the man sounds like he’s smiling, but his tone is indifferent, distant. “Looking forward to meeting with you soon.” 

 

The sound of the phone clicking in place after Seonghwa hangs up. 

 

Hands around his head, keeping Yunho in place. 

 

And then, Seonghwa’s low, saccharine voice. 

 

“What a good boy you’ve been for me so far, puppy.” 

 

“Mmfm,” Yunho tries to agree through his full mouth, eyebrows curling upwards in a plea. “Mmhm…” 

 

Seonghwa moves his hips just a little - he’s hard as a rock, and the thrust makes the tip of his cock bump into the back of Yunho’s throat, making him whine and almost choke on it. 

 

“Show me your tongue.” 

 

Yunho whines, sucking the excess spit from Seonghwa’s cock and his pelvis, before pulling back and looking up at the other. There’s thick globs of spit in his mouth, but he doesn’t dare swallow them because Seonghwa hasn’t allowed him to do so. Instead, he lolls out his tongue, huffing and panting through his gaping mouth. 

 

“That’s my boy. Swallow it and get up.” 

 

Seonghwa unbuttons his jeans all the way down now, shimming them down his thighs until they fall to the floor but he doesn’t step out of them. He pulls down his underwear, too, until his bare butt is sitting on the leather chair and his big cock twitching against his stomach. 

 

“Turn around puppy,” he commands gently, arms twisting his torso around. Fingers drift towards his asscheeks, pushing them open until the bedazzled end of the plug that’s stretching his rim out, “Oh, Hongjoongie was right. It looks beautiful inside of you.” 

 

“D-did, did you talk about…” Yunho says but doesn’t finish his sentence, eyes rolling back when Seonghwa begins to move the plug around, pushing it in and out slowly, until he finally takes it out.

 

“Mmm, oh yes. He sent me a text during his meeting, about how you were so needy and desperate that he had to fuck you face down on the rug, that he plugged you up like a gift for me because he loves me so much.” 

 

“Seonghwa!”

 

He laughs at Yunho’s high-pitched whine, bringing his body closer to him until Yunho is hovering over his lap, “Do you feel empty, puppy?” 

 

“Mhm!” Yunho cries out, forehead pushing against Seonghwa’s. 

 

“You can have my cock, is that what you want? Want me to fill you up?” 

 

Ah , yes please,” Yunho makes sure to beg, desire curling in his loins and thighs trembling at the prospect of sitting on Seonghwa’s cock, at the prospect of the hard shaft filling him up to the hilt. “Want your cock, please!” 

 

Seonghwa helps him out; he holds his arms around Yunho’s waist and cradles him tenderly while the other spreads his thighs out and pushes his rim down the tip of Seonghwa’s cock - it stretches him out, bit by bit, and something hot rushes through Yunho’s insides at the sound of Hongjoong’s cum squelching within him while his husband pushes his cock inside of him. He’s ruined, absolutely used, and he loves it. 

 

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a drawn-out, desperate breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. His chest heaves, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “So full…” he murmurs, thighs shaking. He moves slowly, grinding his hips down as he adjusts to the length, and while he’s crumbling down and trembling, Seonghwa looks more collected than ever. He’s lounging on the chair, head lazily resting on the pillowy seat, lids heavy and full lips shaped into a gentle smile. 

 

“You feel amazing,” Seonghwa whispers to him, rubbing up and down his sides, “There we go, taking my cock so well, feels big inside of you, hm?” 

 

“I-it does,” Yunho stutters out, “Think I want to, uhm, move-” 

 

“Take your time,” he reassures him, “Slowly and steady, that’s a good pup.” 

 

Yunho feels like he’s going to burst as he fucks himself onto Seonghwa’s cock, hips moving at a slow, almost torturous pace, because the sensation is so intense he’s afraid he’s going to start crying if he goes faster. Thankfully, Seonghwa brings his palms to rest at his sides, coaxing him to move up and down with more ease, “Ah, ahn, fuck-” pleas and whines escape his lips, the pent-up desire inside of him growing bigger and stronger with each passing second. 

 

Seonghwa’s lips are all over his body, pressing kisses along his naked chest, tonguing over his pert, pink nipples, suckling on them just enough for Yunho to call out his name, before moving on to the next pale area of skin he’s decided to leave proof of his sticky lip balm and his almost canine-like teeth, blooming redness like roses. He does this all over Yunho’s neck, dragging his tongue over his Adam’s apple, mouthing over his jawline and scraping his teeth underneath his ear. 

 

“Ah, now,” Seonghwa suddenly says, “You’re not being a very good puppy. Do you have any idea how loud you are?” 

 

Yunho stills over the other’s cock - he’s gotten used to his size now, freely moving his hips and fucking himself on it, the feeling so delicious and intense that he hasn’t been holding back his reactions at all, completely forgetting that he’s in Seonghwa’s company office. 

 

“‘M sorry - fuck, ahhh -” 

 

“Need to shut you up, somehow…” 

 

Seonghwa suddenly holds onto him with one arm, pulling him to rest against his chest, and Yunho momentarily stops moving his hips while the other reaches out to grab something from his chest. 

 

Something soft and doughy is placed in front of his lips; a small, powdered donut. 

 

“Open your mouth for hyung .” 

 

Sticky powdered sugar coats his tongue while a legato of moans rumbles in his throat, silenced by the pastry Seonghwa has effectively gagged his mouth with. His hyung - oh, that shouldn’t make Yunho spurt precum all over his exposed tummy while he gets bounced, but it effectively does. 

 

He sinks his teeth into the soft dough and complies, holding it in place. Seonghwa seems so pleased with him, so proud, cheeks rising with a smile, “There we go, my good boy.” He thrusts into Yunho at a steady pace, deep enough to hit his prostate but not rushing it at all, building to the rumbling sensation of something burning up inside Yunho’s tummy, something that’s begging to come out. 

 

Suddenly, there’s fingers around his cock - “Mfm!” Yunho grunts when Seonghwa begins stroking his neglected hard-on. His cock is so red and flushed, leaking all over himself. He’s been wanting to cum ever since Hongjoong first dressed him up, and he’s so desperate for it he’s sure that he’s going to soak both of them and make a mess. 

 

“Puppy,” Seonghwa coos as he continues to thrust up, “Hongjoongie didn’t even let you cum, hm? He just used you as he wanted and then sent you to me. Don’t you want to let go, mess all over yourself?” He’s stroking faster now, tugging on Yunho’s length in just the right rhythm and pace that has Yunho’s shoulders shaking, teeth biting down into the donut as he wails out a muffled phrase, one that sounds like a warning that he’s getting close. “Good, that’s it, cum for your hyung, soak yourself in it.” 

 

Oh, and Yunho lets go - he spurts his orgasm all over his naked torso, it’s so much he didn’t even know he was capable of cumming this much. All this time, Seonghwa thrusts into him again and again, with staggering breaths and a less than coordinated rhythm, signalling that he’s also close to finishing. A few rough thrusts that bounce a spent Yunho around like a ragdoll and Seonghwa is emptying his cock inside of him, teeth sinking on Yunho’s shoulder like he’s claiming him. 

 

“Hyung…” Yunho calls out, donut still in his mouth. 

 

“Ah… So good for me, my puppy,” Seonghwa responds immediately, squeezing him into a hug, “Go on, eat it. I’ll get you some water too.” 

 

Yunho nods, chewing on the pastry - it’s small enough that it’s done with two bites, a burst of jam sweetness on his tongue. He gurgles the water Seonghwa gives him like a man starved, then slumps onto Seonghwa’s chest with a long sigh. He feels the other’s chest rise up and down in tandem with his soft chuckles. 

 

“Oh, my baby, did we tire you out?” 

 

“Mmhm,” Yunho simply hums, without a specific answer. Staying there, between the muscular mounds of Seonghwa’s chest is enough for him. He can already feel his eyes drooping shut. 

 

“Let me clean you up, Yunho, baby,” he nudges him, “Then you can sit on my lap while I make a few calls. Does that sound good?” 

 

Yunho wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s neck and hides his face there, “T-thank you,” he murmurs, not trusting his own voice enough. He doesn’t know why, but this euphoric feeling coursing through his body feels too good to be true, too intense, too right, and that makes him want to cry. His bottom lip is already trembling, and now that the erotic haze is dissipating, he’s too shy to tear up in front of Seonghwa. “Seonghwa…” he whispers. 

 

“What is it, baby?” Seonghwa shifts to stare at him, and his sparkly dark eyes are enough for tears to begin spilling down his cheeks, “Oh, Yunho, angel, what’s wrong? What can I do to help?” 

 

“‘S okay,” Yunho insists, crying even more, “Just… overwhelmed, but-but it’s good, kinda need to uh, l-let it out…” 

 

Seonghwa’s hands wipe the tears from his cheeks, softly caressing the skin. If Yunho could, he would melt against Seonghwa’s touch. “It happens sometimes, don’t worry. Happens to me too, when Hongjoong is extra rough with me,” the cheeky smile he puts on is enough for Yunho to let out a throaty chuckle through his sniffles, “You had a bit of an emotional roller-coaster today, didn’t you? It’s normal to want to let go.” 

 

“Mm, and I’ve been wanting this for so long…” 

 

“I know, puppy. Don’t worry, we’re here for you.” 

 

Yunho ends up getting cleaned up and dressed by Seonghwa before he perches himself onto the other’s lap with glee, jaw hooked over his shoulder and clinging onto him like a koala while Seonghwa continues working, calling people and making arrangements for the showcase at the end of the month, which is drawing closer and closer now. 

 

He ends up falling asleep - for how long, he doesn’t know, but Seonghwa doesn’t move an inch and when he opens his eyes again, the sun is down and the city lights are filtering through the windows under the night sky, and Hongjoong is gently nudging him, telling him that it’s time to go home in between tender, wet kisses. 

 

Home. 





Something within him has shifted, or rather, something has clicked in place - if there ever was anything standing between him and them, a diaphanous sheet made of inhibitions and reticence, it has now been stripped away. Yunho basks in the feeling of being skin-to-skin with them, not only in a literal sense but also metaphorically, close enough that he doesn’t second-guess or doubt himself as often as he used to. 

 

Phone calls and texting become a normality between the three of them, a loving break during their days full of work, classes and practice. Even though their schedules are packed, and become even more hectic as the date of the showcase gets closer with each passing day, they make time to see each other every week. 

 

And Yunho gets downright spoiled - dinners at sky-high restaurants, fruity, colorful cocktails that match the hues of sunset, Hongjoong’s hands on his waist as he pulls up a pair of dusty grey undies he made just for Yunho, seamless so he can wear them underneath his tights when he dances, Seonghwa’s gentle voice moaning out sweet, high-pitched pleas while Yunho fingers him in the bathtub, water and foam splashing against their naked bodies. 

 

One evening, Hongjoong presents a collar to him - it’s made of thick, comfortable material, decorated with studs and gems and a hook to clasp the leash on. “Just for you, puppy,” Hongjoong tells him, “Now you know you’re ours, and we’re yours.” 

 

That night, he rails Seonghwa on all fours, mounting him while Hongjoong sits back and enjoys the view and tugging on Yunho’s leash every time he commands him to fuck him harder, choking him with each rough pull. “You two look stunning together,” Hongjoong grunts out, touching his chest over his bra, “Jagiya, you should see him, he looks so flushed and desperate to fuck you…” 

 

“So deep!” Seonghwa cries out. Hongjoong reaches out with his leg and pushes down on Seonghwa’s nape with the back of his foot, planting his face into the carpet. 

 

“Quiet,” Hongjoong orders, “Our puppy has to cum a few times before he can stop, so you’ll be here for a while. You don’t mind that, do you darling?” 

 

Every erotic experience he has with these two is eye-opening, breathtaking, crashes into his body like a wild, stormy wave, sweeps him off his feet and then lets him go, until he falls into a cotton candy, pillowy cloud. He learns their bodies inside and out, and they learn his, mapping out each freckle, mark and scar, nosing over the hairs and the skin and every single feature until Yunho realizes that he’s never been so utterly bare in front of someone else, despite having multiple sexual partners in the past. There’s just something about Hongjoong eyes raking over his body, knowing exactly where to prod and poke to leave Yunho in tears, and Seonghwa’s ability to finish his sentences and figure out exactly what Yunho needs without having to form it into words. 

 

Like the time he took one look at the way the youngest was squirming during their dinner date with a few of Hongjoong’s associates from work (during which Yunho wears one of Seonghwa’s delicate and very expensive diamond chokers in lieu of his actual collar, since they didn’t have time to play before getting in the car and he’s desperate, oh so desperate) and knew there was no way their puppy could wait until they got home. 

 

That’s how Yunho finds himself over Seonghwa’s lap in the car, in the empty private parking lot of the restaurant, ass on his display as he gets spanked over and over again, “Count for me,” Seonghwa tells him, and Yunho doesn’t stop talking even when he garbles out nonsense, tears leaking from his eyes while his ass gets redder and redder. To shut him up, Hongjoong allows him to mouth over the bulge under his clothes for comfort, petting his hair and promising to do so much more to him when they get home. 

 

It’s a whirlwind, a fever dream, something straight out of a fairytale. 

 

And Yunho finally learns what it means to be comfortable. In every sense of the word. 

 

The money Hongjoong and Seonghwa give him through this arrangement is more than enough (even though Yunho is pretty sure they keep steadily increasing the amount that they previously discussed on their first proper date) and despite the pang of guilt and inexplicable melancholy that Yunho feels every time he gets a notification from Nectar telling him there’s more money deposited on his account, he makes sure to use it for good. 

 

He makes it a point to stock the fridge in the communal kitchen of their dorm with as much fresh groceries as he can, buys a new bedding for his dorm and treats his friends out as many times as he can during the week, even if it’s just a simple lunch or handling their laundry, just like the many times they’ve done for him in the past, when he’d run out of money and eat cup ramen for a week straight, until he’d get too dizzy during practice to continue. It’s the little things he’s able to do that soon make his everyday life easier - he feels stronger, well-fed, energized and lively, in a way he hasn’t felt in years.  

 

Most importantly, he saves a good portion of the money for something he’s been holding off for a while: his student debt. 

 

It’s nowhere near being paid off, but Yunho is able to compensate for some of his dormitory fees, which isn’t nearly enough, but it’s a good start, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s been putting it off for so long, rushing against time. It lifts a huge weight off of his chest, dissipating the dark, cloudy mess that’s constantly present in the back of his mind, even for just a little while. 



 

On one fine morning, he wakes up before the sun has properly risen. It must be about 4 am, if what he’s seeing on the digital clock by Seonghwa’s bedside table is correct. The bed is a jumbled mess of sheets, limbs and sweat, and when Seonghwa gets up, Yunho doesn’t think much of it at first, assuming that the man is going to turn the AC on or open one of the giant glass windows overlooking the river and the city beyond it. 

 

He rolls towards the empty space of the bed, much to Hongjoong’s dismay, judging by the grumpy huff he lets in his sleep when Yunho disentangles himself from the tight embrace. He’s almost ready to fall asleep, when his ears pick up Seonghwa’s hushed voice coming from the en suite bathroom. 

 

“Ah… good evening. It’s early morning here.” 

 

When Yunho hears just how solemn and cold his tone is, he realizes it’s impossible to fall asleep again. So he settles with his face into the pillow, Hongjoong’s arm around his waist, and listens. 

 

“That’s great,” Seonghwa says, and Yunho can decipher the tiniest hint of a smile, “It’s going to be quite the show. We’ve been preparing for this for a while, you’ll see, it’s going to be-” 

 

He stops. 

 

Yunho can’t make out the words Seonghwa says next to the recipient of the phone call - his voice is too faint, too fragile to be audible enough. 

 

“... But I thought - you know I always send out many personal invitations, to all three of you.”  

 

“... If I didn’t, you would be complaining -” 

 

“Mother, surely you don’t mean that…”  

 

“Right.” 

 

“Duly noted. Won’t be expecting you.” 

 

“Goodnight.” 

 

Seonghwa spends half an hour or more in the bathroom after the phone call is over; Yunho can tell from the gentle sound of the sink running. He reaches out to sleeping Hongjoong and lets the man hold him by his waist while he settles into a comfortable position on his back, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep when he hears the door knob moving. 

 

The mattress dips. Seonghwa gets under the cover, shuffling close to the other two, skin cold from washing his hands. 

 

He settles his head on Yunho’s chest, and lets out a shaking breath, like he’s been crying.  

 

Yunho doesn’t say anything, and soon enough, he’s falling asleep again, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chapter Text

 

“Puppy…” 

 

He wakes up hours later, with Hongjoong’s playful voice and nose nuzzling his cheek, and a refreshing breeze coming through the open balcony door that swings the long curtains towards the bed. The sun has come up, and even though it’s bright enough to cast intense light into the room without the need to switch on any of the lamps, Yunho wakes up slowly, fluttering his eyes and struggling to win the battle between Hongjoong’s gentle coaxing to get up and the puffy mattress and pillows that seem to want to suck him in. 

 

“Yah,” a pair of hands grab his waist, shaking him like a cold brew coffee with unmixed milk, “Someone’s sleepy today, aren’t you baby?” 

 

“Mmhm,” Yunho whines, because it’s mostly true. A part of him, however, wants to stay in the warmth of the bed, eyes closed, because he hasn’t figured out a way to approach Seonghwa and he can’t shake the memory that’s only a few hours old - of Seonghwa locked in the bathroom and hurriedly talking to his apparently distant mother. 

 

“We’ve got a salon appointment today,” Hongjoong reminds him, “Did you forget?” 

 

Oh, shit, Hongjoong’s right. He had mentioned it last night, and Yunho distinctly remembers nodding and giggling as Hongjoong ran his tongue down his neck and into his clavicle in the privacy of the personal booth Seonghwa had swiftly booked for them when Hongjoong had announced he wanted to get drinks at their favorite night bar. 

 

He’d forgotten all about it, in the blurry haze of drinks and kisses and spit that had ended with the three of them falling on the bed and continuing their sexual trysts until they were too exhausted to do anything else but sleep. At least his schedule is clear until the evening, he realizes as he gets up from the bed and stumbles to the bathroom to wash his teeth and face. 

 

He finds Seonghwa there, swollen eyes and puffy lips, and his heart breaks.

“Good morning darling,” Seonghwa tells him with a gentle smile and a hoarse voice that confirms Yunho’s suspicions. He doesn’t look good at all, not because he’s not handsome or prince-like, but because Yunho knows what he’s keeping from him. Something tells him that unless he asks, Seonghwa won’t tell him what’s really bothering him. 

 

Without saying anything, he wraps his arms around the other and brings Seonghwa's head to rest in the crook of his neck, placing his chin on the crown of his hair. 

 

“O-oh,” Seonghwa laughs tiredly, “Someone’s cuddly this morning. Too early for you?” 

 

Ah, so Seonghwa is intent on not mentioning it, “Yeah, kinda… it was too comfy in bed with you two…” 

 

That earns him a delightful chin scratch and a pet on the head, “You’re the cutest. I’m sorry Hongjoongie booked the appointment so early, but he’s got loads of meetings to attend to in the afternoon. We’re always very busy before a showcase, I hope you understand.” 

 

“Please don’t apologize for treating me,” Yunho pouts, kissing Seonghwa and effectively catching him off guard. The man melts in his arms, and Yunho grins while their lips are locked, “I’m very excited to spend the day with you.” 

 

Seonghwa coos at him, expression visibly happier than before. Yunho’s heart hammers in his chest. 

 

“Let’s shower together to save time,” he suggests, squirming against Seonghwa, who laughs. 

 

“Mmm, sure. Need to take a good look at your butt anyways…” 

 

“Hyung-” 

 

But Seonghwa is already twisting him around, pressing him flush against the cold glass wall of the shower. Yunho yelps, cock twitching with excitement. 

 

“You always get so red,” Seonghwa murmurs, running his palms over the hills and valleys of Yunho’s naked body, paying special attention to his asscheeks and thighs, where the markings of last night’s sexcapades are still red and blooming, “We don’t want these to leave a mark now, do we?” 

 

“I-I wouldn’t mind,” Yunho whispers. 

 

“I know you wouldn’t,” Seonghwa presses kisses down his nape, running his palms down Yunho’s sides and hips, “C’mon, let’s get in the shower.” 







The hair salon is situated downtown, at the top floor of a luxury department store. The place itself is packed with customers getting their hair washed, dyed or styled, and even though all the stations seem occupied, the atmosphere is bubbly and happy, the stylists moving from person to person without stress. There’s an upbeat playlist playing from the speakers and Yunho can’t help but bop his head to the rhythm.

 

Hongjoong takes the lead, striding across the salon in his tall, knee-high boots, greeting random customers and stylists alike. Yunho doesn’t really know what to do, so he just bows and smiles at the people that Hongjoong presumably knows who turn to look at him. Seonghwa brings a hand to the small of his back, “They’re people in the entertainment business,” he explains, carefully whispering in Yunho’s ear, “That lady with the honey blonde curls is the editor in chief of GROOVE magazine, the guy next to her getting his hair blow-dried is-” 

 

“Oh, I know him,” Yunho says, “He hosts that night-time show on Channel 3, something-something Fiesta?

 

Late Night Fiesta, yeah,” Seonghwa corrects him, “Some of them will show up at the showcase, at least I hope so, with the lengths I went to to contact their PR firms.” 

 

“Aren’t journalists and magazines the ones who should be asking to attend?” Yunho wonders, although the moment he speaks he realizes how foolish he must sound. Still, Seonghwa smiles at him and pets his head, as if to silently console him for his ignorance. 

 

“While that’s true for well known, luxury, haute couture brands, Aurora hasn’t reached that level yet. We don’t necessarily cater to the same audiences, and that comes with some setbacks,” Seonghwa explains, “But I’ve made it my personal goal to surpass any obstacles that come our way, especially when those stem from a patronizing attitude.” 

 

Yunho nods, taking in Seonghwa’s determined expression, the slope of his prominent nose and the pout that always overtakes his lips when he’s thinking silently. Hongjoong is still making conversation at the front desk, leaning on the counter with one leg raised up behind him, showing off the red underside of his boot. 

 

He clears his throat - it’s neither the time nor the place to get horny. 

 

“Darling!” Hongjoong says loudly - both Seonghwa and Yunho whip their heads up as he beckons them to approach him. There’s another man standing next to him with his hands held behind his back, wearing a black apron with the logo of the hair salon embroidered on the right side of his chest. “Turns out Kun isn’t doing everything in the world to avoid me.” 

 

“I’m doing everything in the world to avoid turning you bald,” the hairstylist, Kun, says, taking a sip from his coffee. His voice has that low rumble of sleepiness, but his expression is inviting, ready to face the day. “You need to tell your husband that he can’t come in here and ask me to turn him into Snow White in less than two days,” he tells Seonghwa, who chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. 

 

“So you’re going for silver-white this time, like you told me?” Seonghwa leans in to bring Hongjoong close to his side, one arm around his waist and a kiss to his forehead, “I think it’s gonna look beautiful on you, Hongjoongie.” 

 

“See?” Hongjoong taunts Kun. From the hairstylist’s expression, Yunho can tell that he’s used to getting pestered like this. “Have some faith in yourself.” 

 

“Mmm,” Kun laughs behind his coffee cup, “Right. You’re lucky I’m the only one patient enough to put up with your whims. You should’ve come in here a few weeks ago, give your hair a breather as we slowly process it. Like him , look at how nicely his hair has faded - oh, hello, are you here by appointment?” 

 

“U-uh,” Yunho mumbles when Kun finally looks at him. 

 

“Ah, fuck, I forgot to introduce you,” Hongjoong brings one palm to smooth over Yunho’s hair in a comforting manner, “This is Yunho-” 

 

“Nice to meet you,” Yunho interjects with a smile, shaking hands with Kun. 

 

“-Our boyfriend!” 

 

Yunho freezes, still holding Kun’s hand. 

 

Boyfriend. “Oh,” Kun smiles at him knowingly, and Yunho only registers his hand falling to his side to realize the hairstylist has pulled away, “Nice to meet you, Yunho. I’m Kun. I’ve been your boyfriends’ hairstylist for a few years now. I suppose we’ll be doing something to your hair today as well?” 

 

Boyfriend. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he breathes out, heart hammering in his chest, “I-uh, I’m not sure what I wanna do yet, though.” 

 

Boyfriend. “Well, that’s no problem! We can talk about it after I finish with Seonghwa. Just maintenance, right?” He turns to the other man. 

 

“Mmhm,” Seonghwa agrees, “Not intending to change the color any time soon.” 

 

“You see how cooperative your husband is?” Kun tells Hongjoong, who pokes out his tongue at him in the most unprofessional way Yunho has ever seen. “C’mon, I’ve put you guys in the back so we can have some privacy. Settle down and I’ll bring some robes for you to put on.” 

 

The three of them are led to a secluded room at the far back of the salon, one that hides behind a heavy gray curtain that is promptly drawn once they’ve sat down and Kun leaves them be for the moment, separating them from the rest of the customers. 

 

Yunho doesn’t sit down immediately. Instead, he walks towards one of the windows, staring at the busy streets that are currently cluttered with traffic as people commute to work. The sky is littered with clouds, heavy and dark, ominously rumbling in the distance. 

 

Boyfriend. There’s a strange mix of emotions swirling in his tummy currently, a concoction that feeds off of thoughts and anxieties that have been laying dormant in the deepest parts of his psyche for a while now. The way Hongjoong had just casually let out, gleefully introducing him to Kun, the way Kun’s smile was polite but knowing - is that what he is? Their boyfriend? Or is this a better, more acceptable term than sugar baby? Up until this point, Yunho has never really contemplated on the technicalities of their relationship. The three of them are much closer than a typical, superficial arrangement for financial compensation. This closeness, this privacy that the three of them have been blessed with is something that Yunho has cherished, basking under it. But now, he’s come to realize that they’re not untouchable to the outside world any longer. 

 

Kun comes back in an instant, carrying three large robes for them to wear to protect their clothing from any dyes or stray hair falling during the process. 

 

“Say Yunho,” Kun tells him as he ties the robe behind his back, “Would you like anything? A cup of coffee, some tea?” 

 

Yunho’s first instinct is to politely decline, but then Seonghwa butts in, exclaiming he’d love to have two shots of espresso since it’s way too early to function, and Yunho’s nerves relax somewhat. He orders a warm latte and settles in his seat. 

 

Since Seonghwa is just there for maintenance, Kun makes him sit at the other end of the room while he gets his equipment ready. Thus, Yunho is left with just Hongjoong by his side, as the two of them look out the window with their backs to Seonghwa and Kun. 

 

“Have you thought about what you want to get?” Hongjoong asks him, bringing a hand to ruffle through his hair. The touch is so familiar that Yunho can’t help but flutter his eyes, leaning into the touch like a puppy. 

 

“Don’t know,” Yunho says, voice small because he still hasn’t stopped thinking about Hongjoong calling him their boyfriend. Now that’s not something you can get over easily. “Don’t wanna go back to brown yet,” he mumbles. 

 

“Wasn’t your hair pink before it washed out?” 

 

“Mhm..” 

 

“Go for an icy purple,” Hongjoong announces with a scheming face. It’s cute. He’s so cute. Yunho wants to be kissed so badly. “Since you went to all that trouble bleaching it, why not keep it longer?” 

 

“Ah, one of my friends was the one who helped me,” Yunho explains smiling, recalling San spreading copious amounts of bleach on his forehead while his own pink dye was seeping into his hair, “He did his first, and I just said fuck it and we did mine too.” 

 

“Your friend from your dance classes? The one with the pink hair you told me about?” 

 

Yunho jumps on his seat excitedly, “Yeah, that’s San! Oh yeah, I remember talking to you about them! San and Wooyoung, I’m closest with them, then there’s Jongho and Mingi too.” 

 

Hongjoong keeps petting his hair, taking turns in smoothing it back and kissing his forehead, each action rendering Yunho even more flustered than before, “Would you like to invite them to the showcase, baby?” 

 

Yunho blinks, “I-invite them?” 

 

“Yeah! San, Wooyoung, Jongho, Mingi and anyone else you’d like to bring. Just tell me how many people there are so I can make sure everyone’s seated comfortably.” 

 

Yunho’s smile is caught halfway there on his upturned lips when he suddenly realizes something. A sound of protest dies in his throat, but Hongjoong has already noticed the sudden change in his expression, because he doesn’t let Yunho lower his gaze, stroking his hair gently to coax it out of him, “Puppy? Is there something wrong?”

 

He turns to look at Seonghwa across the room. The man has his iPad out and is furiously taking notes with a stylus while Kun wets his hair and brushes through it, sectioning it carefully. They’re both listening to the music playing through the hair salon speakers, immersed in their own thoughts. 

 

“Ah,” Yunho clears his throat quietly, lowering his voice, “It’s nothing-” 

 

“It’s clearly not, baby. You can tell me-”

 

“A-are you inviting my friends because Seonghwa’s family won’t be coming?” 

 

Hongjoong doesn’t reply - his lips part, words never making it out, but they don’t have to, because his eyes say it all. Wide enough to show his failure to conceal his surprise, lashes still coated in remnants of last night’s mascara, pupils moving frantically as he stares at Yunho. 

 

“I’m sorry-” Yunho begins to frantically whisper, “I don’t mean to involve myself in things I have no place in, I just- he was talking to them on the phone really early in the morning. I woke up, overheard things when I shouldn’t have - I’m sorry-” 

 

“Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong’s palm cradles his nape, “And no, I’m not just inviting them for this reason, puppy. You don’t think I’m that kind of person, do you?” he puts on a whiny, child-like voice to lighten the atmosphere. Yunho breaks out a tiny smile. 

 

“It’s not something we would hide from you,” Hongjoong explains, “I thought Seonghwa would have filled you in on his not-so-great relationship with his parents when he first invited you over while I was away, since he’d just gotten in a fight with them as well, back then. But I guess that might have been too soon for him. He’ll tell you the details on his own, probably.” 

 

“Oh,” Yunho whispers, “I see. I-I understand,” he continues, but doesn’t elaborate much, “I’m in a similar situation myself.” 

 

“Me and my family aren’t that close either,” Hongjoong gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Nothing bad, just not very affectionate.” 

 

He pauses for a moment while Yunho rearranges himself in his chair, fixing his robe, “Don’t feel guilty about it.” 

 

“I just, I didn’t mean to overhear-” 

 

“Not just that,” says Hongjoong, “I mean about your family too. Don’t feel guilty for not being close with them.” 

 

Yunho stays quiet. He doesn’t know where these words came from, if Hongjoong has really come to know him so deeply these past few months of their relationship, but, for whatever reason, he’s able to say something like this so casually, something Yunho has struggled with for a while now. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he continues. He takes Yunho’s hand in his, gently stroking his thumb over his knuckles, “You don’t have to tell my husband either. Regardless, we’re still going to be here for you.” 

 

But what if I want to? Yunho thinks. What if I want to talk to you guys about this? Is this some sort of barrier I’m never meant to cross? You two are always so open about everything when it comes to you two, yet you always give me the benefit of not disclosing anything I don’t wish to. Aren’t you curious? Or is this some sort of boundary between us? 

 

“Thank you,” is all he says out loud, leaning in to capture Hongjoong’s lips in a soft kiss. “I didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings by mentioning it… I should have known you’d be aware… that was kind of stupid of me.” 

 

“No, don’t say that. There’s definitely partners who keep their entire lives from each other in fear of confrontation. That’s kind of impossible with us, if I’m being honest. Our families have been acquaintances ever since we were kids. They’ve established business in similar industries… Don’t know if there’s a little handbook that dictates you have to send your kid to a prestigious, international school if you’re considered rich, but I guess connections matter more in the long run.” 

 

Yunho ponders how the two of them would have looked together when they were younger. There’s plenty of framed pictures at their home, from their travels, photoshoots, personal photos of their phones - from changing hair colors to different filters, he’s noticed that there’s quite the variety. 

 

“That must have been nice, though, going to school together,” Yunho smiles at the thought. He’s heard that wealthy families will often establish close relations with each other to assure success, from partnerships to marriage, “Were you two set up by your parents?” 

 

Hongjoong almost chokes while swallowing a gulp of coffee, laughing against the marble cup. His brows are high, eyes wide, “As if,” he clears his throat, “As if anyone from the Park household would ever willingly set up any of their sons with another man.” 

 

Oh. 

 

“It suits you so well,” they hear Kun tell Seonghwa, “Do you like it?” 

 

“I love it,” Seonghwa says brightly. When Yunho turns around to take a look, Seonghwa’s smile has made his cheekbones rise high like freshly made bread, eyes crinkling with happiness, “It’s so glittery and sparkly!” 

 

“Turn around so they can look at you,” Kun tells him. 

 

When Seonghwa turns around, both men gasp - his dark, midnight hair has been trimmed nicely, keeping its long length around his jawline and shorter at the back, with his undercut freshly shaved. The newest addition to his haircut turns out to be the tiny sparkling silvers that peek between the waves of his hair, like stars across the night sky. “It’s thread,” Seonghwa explains excitedly, obviously having learnt this from Kun, “It’s tied to the roots of my hair, isn’t it cute?” 

 

“It’s beautiful jagiya ,” Hongjoong says fondly, threading his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair and picking out the slim threads to take a closer look, “They suit you so well.” 

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Yunho tells him, reaching out to hold his hand. Unexpectedly, Seonghwa grabs his hand and pulls him closer, almost pulling him on his lap, kissing him softly. “Ah-” 

 

“Thank you,” Seonghwa’s blush is evident, dark lashes fluttering. He seems infinitely more happy than he was this morning, and that’s all Yunho can hope for, he thinks as he smiles back. 

 

Kun decides to get a head start with Hongjoong, since his hair will be much more difficult to process, so Yunho sits on his chair patiently and goes through his phone. 

 

He watches the recordings San sent him the other day of their latest rehearsal, checking for mistakes in the execution of the choreography and any possible changes that can be made when they meet next time. With focused eyes, he zeroes in on his step sequences, the way their legs and arms extend while making spins and how smooth (and sometimes not at all) the lifts look in the camera. Their footfalls echo in the empty practice room and the music is a poor mismatch of a track that the three of them tried to cut and edit in some dodgy free app. Still, Yunho notices the great progress they’ve made in the past few months while working on this. It’s generally not easy for him to admit that he’s good enough, that he’s better than before - and yet, there’s a spark of hope, flickering with its shy flame in the pit of his stomach.  

 

“Wow,” Seonghwa is suddenly next to him, head resting on Yunho’s shoulder, “Is this you dancing?” 

 

“Y-yeah,” Yunho says shyly, “Wanna see? It’s our practice video for our end-of-the semester group assignment. Here, let me play it from the beginning.” 

 

He tries not to be nervous, but he can’t help his eyes from shifting to Seonghwa, waiting for his reaction - he’s not even that anxious in front of their instructor during their lessons, yet there’s this dire need to impress someone he cares so much about. He can’t deny it. He hopes his armpits don’t get too sweaty as he sits in silence, watching Seonghwa follow their movements with his pupils, occasionally parting his lips in surprise whenever San lifts Yunho up or when Wooyoung is dragged across the ground while spinning, holding onto Yunho’s arm and letting the rest of his body make shapes on the wooden floor. 

 

The music track reaches its climax and the three of them begin their intricate, impressive and downright difficult to master step sequences, dancing in a circle formation, until they’re holding onto each other and finally stumbling drunkenly, falling on the ground in a messy but nevertheless assembled final pose.  

 

“This is…” Seonghwa finally speaks once the video is over and the final frame of San running up to stop the recording greets them, “Yunho… you’re, you’re phenomenal, did you choreograph this all by yourselves?” 

 

“It’s what the assignment is for, actually,” Yunho explains bashfully, “For my contemporary dance class. We create our choreography, perform it with a unique track and cohesive theme. Outfits and styling are up to us as well, as long as they’re relevant to the theme.” 

 

“This is mesmerizing to watch, darling,” Seonghwa says fondly, voice soft and loving, “Ah, Hongjoong needs to see this-” 

 

“What?” Hongjoong asks. His hair is slowly getting covered in bleach and foils, starting from the tips and leaving the roots untouched for the moment. He’s brought his knees close to his chest, feet just in his socks and boots abandoned to the side, AirPods in his ears and a stylus in his hand, writing notes on his tablet. 

 

“Look at this! Go on, Yunho, show him,” Seonghwa prompts him. 

 

So Yunho sits through it again, arms tight to his sides as he nervously observes Hongjoong’s expressions throughout the performance. 

 

“Wow, that’s gorgeous…” Hongjoong mutters to himself, eyes full of admiration, but also something else, a look that Seonghwa is much more familiar with than Yunho, because his husband smiles knowingly. “Look at that movement, wah-” 

 

“Thank you,” Yunho says bashfully. 

 

“Baby,” Hongjoong asks once the video is over, “Do you have your costumes ready?” 

 

Yunho sighs - it’s been a point of neglect over the past few months, despite their instructor constantly reminding them because clothing takes time to make. It’s also been a point of dispute between students and the administration, since the expenses won’t be covered by the school. The three of them haven’t had money to spare for that, so it’s been deliberately pushed to the side. 

 

“Not really, we haven’t-” 

 

“I want to make your costumes.” 

 

“Hyung…” his surprise is evident in his voice and his expression, “What…” 

 

But Hongjoong is already ahead of him, explaining his vision despite Kun trying to pull him back in the chair to finish bleaching his ends, “Oh, I can just see it! The way you guys dance, imagine your movements accentuated by the ripples of the fabrics - oh, long sleeves, definitely long sleeves that flare at the wrists! Need to come up with something comfortable too, to help you execute the difficult parts without being obstructed by any bulky clothing-” 

 

“You really don’t have to!” Yunho panics, “I know how busy you are with everything going on, there’s really no need-” 

 

“I’m afraid he’s not going to be receiving your feedback any time soon,” Seonghwa chuckles, both hands holding onto Yunho’s shoulders, who’s staring at Hongjoong with a look of disbelief. “There’s no issues concerning our work schedules, and even if there was, I’d find a way to make time for this. Hongjoong would love to do this for you and your fellow members, but only if that’s something you’d like for us to do.” 

 

And there it is again - the overwhelming sensation of being cared for, not in a suffocating, stifling away, of having to say yes with a polite, anxious smile. Their eyes are pools of honesty and adoration; one could say they’re giving him puppy eyes while obviously trying to let him decide on his own. 

 

He would have thought he’d be used to this now. The selfless giving, the open arms that welcome him, caress him and hold him tight. 

 

“I don’t want to impose…” 

 

“Never,” Hongjoong assures him. He reaches out to hold his hand, and Kun lets out another aggravated sigh when he has to pull the bleach covered brush away from his head. “Yunho, my love, your dancing is so beautiful, so well-executed. It really inspired me, I couldn’t help it. I really, really want to do this. For you.” 

 

After a moment of silence, Yunho stutters out a response, “San and Wooyoung would be delighted…” 

 

“And what about you?” Seonghwa pokes his cheek. 

 

“I think I’d cry with happiness,” he says, so honest and raw that his throat and nose tickle with the feeling of unshed tears, “I’d be honored to wear something made by you during my presentation.” 

 

Hongjoong’s palms grab his face, a deep, wet kiss planted on his lips, “Ah, puppy,” he whispered against his forehead, “I’m so happy, you know that? You make me so happy.” 

 

In their embrace, Yunho closes his eyes and lets himself melt. 

 

“You make me the happiest.”  





“So,” Kun starts playing with his hair once he’s done with Hongjoong, staring at Yunho in the mirror, “Hongjoong mentioned something about you wanting to go purple?” 

 

“Mhm,” Yunho smiles, “Not too intense, though.” 

 

“Then we’ll make it pastel, it’ll fade into a nice white-ish blond.” 

 

“I’d like that…” Yunho smiles softly, “It’s just that, last time I bleached it my scalp was quite sensitive…” 

 

“I’ll do an off-scalp bleach process, so you won’t have to worry about anything,” Kun smiles at him, full cheeks and welcoming eyes. “Now, let’s get started!” 





“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up - your hair!” 

 

Yunho can feel his ears getting red again when Wooyoung rushes to greet him, his hands all over his new, freshly dyed hair, “It looks so pretty on you!”

 

“Ah, thank you… Hongjoong and Seonghwa took me to the hair salon with them this morning…” 

 

“Not fair!” Wooyoung sighs dramatically, “I mean, it’s fair because you deserve the world, obviously - but I want someone to pay for nice things for me too.” 

 

“Guess it’s your lucky day, because I’ve got invitations for you guys,” Yunho tells him, eager to see his friend’s reaction, “If you’d like to come with me to Hongjoong’s showcase at the end of this week-” 

 

“Fuck!” Wooyoung says, “You’re serious?” 

 

“Sure I am! I’ll tell Jongho and Mingi too.” 

 

“Oh this is gonna be so fun! I’ve never been to a fashion show before-” right at that moment, Wooyoung notices San who’s just entered the practice room, “Sannie! Guess what?” 

 

“You guess first,” San retaliates, but gives them no time to answer, “Mingi agreed to mix our track for us,” he announces with a proud smile, “He likes to make music in his free time, he’s really good, and he’s going to have it done by tomorrow!” 

 

“That’s amazing!” Yunho sighs happily. One less thing to worry about. 

 

“Yunho invited us to the fashion show!” Wooyoung butts in, “We’re gonna sit in the front row-” 

 

“Wait, really!? Front row?” 

 

“Ah, probably?” Yunho says, confused. “I’ll talk to Jongho and Mingi about it too.” 

 

“You see, this is our chance,” Wooyoung commences conspiratorially, “You and I are going to seduce some rich dude who has more money than he will ever need and more money than he could ever earn with honest work, and make him share .” 

 

“Right, right,” San agrees hurriedly, used to his boyfriend’s whims. 

 

“I’ve got another surprise…” Yunho sing-songs. “Hongjoong told me that he wants to create our costumes. For our performance.” 

 

The sound of San’s heavy bag falling on the floor is deafening, but not as deafening as his and his boyfriend’s coordinated squawks of surprise. 

 

“What?! For real? You’re shitting me?!” 





[me]: sent 3 attachments. 

 

[me]: i think it suits my hair pretty well <3 

 

It takes approximately 30 seconds for one of them to respond, after receiving the photos Yunho sent them - the discreet box was waiting for him right outside of his dorm room when he arrived, the ensemble inside already chosen by Seonghwa this time, since Hongjoong had been busy all day with preparations. The briefs were lilac colored, a soft cotton fabric that was unlined and hugged his waist and ass like he was back in their arms. The top shirt was crafted in a similar unlined fashion and color, tighter around his ribcage and looser around the arms. Perfect for wearing it when he’d dance, with a large cutout in the back that would allow for unrestricted movement. 

 

In the pictures, he sat in various poses in front of his mirror on the carpet - cross-legged, with his legs stretched out, another one laying on his side like a cat asking for pets. 

 

[sh]: you look so pretty baby!! do you like them? 

 

[me]: i really do!

 

[me]: thank you hyung <3

 

He knows Hongjoong will probably see these texts later, when he’s finished with his meetings, so he doesn’t worry much. He basks under Seonghwa’s praise, holding his knees close to his chest and wiggling his toes in the carpet. It’s late and his entire body is aching with the phantom pains of today’s rigorous practice, but his mind is wide awake with excitement. 

 

His fingers hover over the keyboard before he types something out. 

 

[me]: i miss you 

 

Boyfriend. That damn word hasn’t left his mind ever since this morning, sometimes lurking in the murkiest corners of his thoughts when he’s distracted enough to not ponder about it. They made no mention of it after that, not even once. Should he ask? 

 

Seonghwa replies with another text, but Yunho doesn’t have enough time to open it before his phone starts ringing. 

 

The caller ID punches into his guts like a knife. 

 

He doesn’t know how long he takes just to stare at the screen, numb with the indecision of whether to hang up or answer. 

 

He chooses the latter. 

 

“Hi, mom.” 

 

“Son,” his mother’s distinct voice echoes in his ears after a long time of having grown accustomed to not hearing it. He’s not sure if it feels foreign or achingly familiar, “How are things?” 

 

He shuts his eyes, nails already digging into his palms. That’s now why she called, they both know that. But he decides to play along. “Good. Been busy with school.” 

 

“Is that why you haven’t called for months? Were you too busy to pick up a phone, see if we’re okay-” 

 

“It goes both ways, you know,” he can’t help but spit out, “Am I the only one who’s supposed to worry-” 

 

“Don’t talk back,” she shuts him up, stern and distant, “You’ve made your choices, sure, but family is still family.” 

 

Yunho swallows the lump in his throat. He wants to argue, open his mouth and just blurt everything he’s been holding inside all his life - he’s only ever dared to do this a handful of times. It’s the only way he’s ended up here instead of holed up in his parents’ house, miserable and suffering. Yes, he’s made his choices - choosing a potential life with a huge debt hanging over his head in order to be free. 

 

“In any case, that’s not why I called you,” of course it isn’t, he thinks bitterly. There’s tears prickling in his eyes already, the back of his throat pulsing with ache. “You paid off your dormitory fees?” 

 

Fuck. He should have known. 

 

He shares that bank account with his older brother - did so for a few years, even after he moved out, before he got a stern talk from Wooyoung and some beautiful but wasted girl at some party about being independent from the financial and emotional hold of his parents that still has him in a chokehold even to this day. Still, most of his financial decisions were made before he worked towards his fiscal independence, which made it easy for his mother to track his expenses and his on-going student debt. 

 

“Yunho,” her voice brings him back from his momentary downward spiral, “I asked you, did you pay off your dormitory fees?” 

 

Normally, this should have been the cause for a celebration - a phone call made out of relief, perhaps even a congratulatory message. And yet, her tone does nothing to conceal her true feelings, and Yunho’s hands feel clammy, his throat constricted. 

 

“I did,” he tells her in the sternest way he thinks he can muster, “Where’s the issue?” 

 

“Where did you find the money?” 

 

“I’m working,” he replies instantly. 

 

“Are you now?” 

 

Her sardonic tone only fuels the pang in his chest, “I am. I saved up and I’m slowly paying off the debt. What’s the problem-” 

 

“Am I not allowed to ask questions now?” Yunho isn’t able to speak up, so she continues, “We’ve gotten used to it for the past few years, every six months without fail there’s a notice concerning your inability to pay off your student loans and your university fees. Suddenly, your brother realizes it’s been paid off. How do you expect me to react?” 

 

“I don’t know,” he sighs, “Be happy for me, maybe?” 

 

“That’s a lot of money, Yunho. Did you save up by working a 9-5, is that what you’re trying to tell me?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

You’ve known I’ve been struggling for years now, he doesn’t say. You’ve known and you’ve done nothing because, in your eyes, it’s what I deserve, for dropping out and getting on a bus and coming to the big city to do things my way. 

 

“I don’t believe it.” 

 

“Then that’s your problem.” 

 

“Don’t talk back to me, son,” he could hang up and that would be it, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare do it under her threatening tone. He’s back at home all over again, shrinking underneath her judgemental gaze and venom-filled words. “I don’t know what sort of trouble you’ve put yourself in, what kind of crowds you’ve surrounded yourself with. We talked about this, what sort of people are there-” 

 

“What are you even saying-” he tries to ask, tears threatening to spill because deep down he knows exactly what she’s insinuating. 

 

“I never wanted you to go there-” 

 

“You’ve made that clear a thousand times.” 

 

“-I expected you to come back soon after you left… It's been three years, son. When are you going to let this go?” 

 

He digs his fingers in his bare thigh as a single tear escapes down his face, “You think this is some temper tantrum I’m throwing? That I’m only here just to spite you?” 

 

“You’ve done it before,” she starts shouting, “Made a whole show out of it, running away and throwing every opportunity out of the window just to attend dance classes and live on your own. And I’ve bared the shame and waited until you’d just give up and come back, but enough is enough. I don’t know who could have helped you out-” 

 

“So you really don’t believe I could have done this on my own?” he yells back, voice cracking as he starts crying. 

 

She takes a deep breath, as if considering her words. She never does, is the thing. “You’ve got a habit of giving up when things don’t go your way.”  

 

His bottom lip trembles as he tries to hold in his heaving sobs, attempting to sound composed, as if her words haven’t affected him one bit. 

 

“You have no right to call me… and demand explanations for what I’m doing with my life,” tears and snot cover his face, wet and red with shame. “D-don’t call me again. Ever.” 

 

He hangs up and throws his phone across the bed. He’s still sitting on the floor - his eyes catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His new hair, vibrant and soft, looks like purple pansies around his ears and forehead where it curls. The clothes Seonghwa picked out for him, a comforting hug around his shaking body. 

 

All dolled up. 

 

He hauls his exhausted body on the bed and falls asleep before the tears have a chance to dry on his skin. 






[sh]: aw puppy! i miss you too 

 

[sh]: we miss you 

 

[sh]: can’t wait to get you in my arms again 

 

[hj]: you sweet thing 

 

[hj]: the bed feels empty without you 




 

“You look dreadful.” 

 

“No he doesn’t, Jongho,” Mingi nudges Jongho’s waist gently, offering Yunho a toothy smile, “You look just fine, Yunho-yah. Maybe a little sleepy, but that’s okay.” 

 

Yunho knows exactly what he looks like, unfortunately; dark circles underneath his eyes and a puffy, bloated face from crying at any given moment when he can be alone with his thoughts. “Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

 

“Is your instructor giving you a hard time?” Jongho’s voice softens when Yunho doesn’t respond to his teasing with a similar spirit. 

 

“Kind of, yeah.” He’s not totally lying - in the last few days leading up to this Friday morning, he’s spent more time dragging his body across the wooden floor and performing the same, calculated movements again and again under the scrutinizing gaze of his classmates and their teacher than sleeping. He has shrugged off the concerned looks San and Wooyoung give him at times, knowing not to push but still worrying. All he does is wipe the dripping sweat that runs a light purple color across his nape, staining his work-out shirts and gets back up, demanding they try the formation once again. “Our choreography needs-” 

 

“Uh-uh, none of that,” San butts in, a finger on Yunho’s mouth to silence him. “We’re not talking about any of that today.” 

 

“Today is all about having fun,” Wooyoung clarifies in a tone that leaves no room for protest, “Now, if only this guy would show up on time, I’m freezing my balls off over here.” 

 

The five of them stand huddled next to each other, winter coats on, right outside of the main university entrance. There’s a steaming coffee cup in Mingi’s palms that provides sufficient warmth for approximately one person, while the other four have to deal with the consequences of neglecting their caffeine addiction, as one develops in the early stages of adolescence. Wooyoung has a theory of how that ties into the capitalistic hellhole they exist in, but Yunho fails to remember the details. 

 

He spends most of his time trying to cheer himself up - talking about his family is something he reserves for when he’s wasted and inhibitions have no hold on him. And obviously, that only extends to Wooyoung and San. Since he chose to not tell them about the phone call this time, he’ll just have to act like it never happened. He doesn’t even want to imagine Seonghwa and Hongjoong finding out. 

 

Not when there’s a creeping feeling of guilt gnawing in his stomach. 

 

“That’s a lot of money, Yunho. Did you save up by working a 9-5, is that what you’re trying to tell me? I don’t believe it.” 

 

“Where’s this guy anyway?” Wooyoung whines again, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

 

At that moment, a luxurious, shining SUV stops right in front of them - the driver’s window rolls down, and Ten’s sneaky expression underneath a pair of huge sunglasses in an obscene, neon color, “Hi boys!” Even if they cover most of his upper face, it’s evident that his smile reaches his eyes. “Get in!” 

 

The five of them jump right in: the inside of the car is just as fancy, with beige leather covering the seats, wood and golden details and ample space to place drinks and food in between the seats. It’s not Hongjoong’s or Seonghwa’s, and definitely not the car Ten usually drives. 

 

“Whose car is this?” Yunho asks when he gets in the passenger’s seat up front, right next to Ten. 

 

“I leased it,” Ten replies as he waits for the others to put their seatbelts on, “I realized my car wouldn’t fit all of you so Mr. Park gave me free reign to rent whichever car I wanted. Isn’t she a beauty?” 

 

“Wah, this is so cool…” San and Wooyoung speak in unison. “This is what luxury feels like, huh…” 

 

“Nice to meet you everyone,” Ten smiles at the other four from the rearview mirror, “I’m Ten, Mr. Kim’s and Mr. Park’s personal assistant. Now, I take it most of you haven’t had breakfast yet, and if Mr. Park realizes you guys haven’t been fed before I take you to him, he’s going to be very disappointed in me. Does Starbucks sound nice?” 

 

The trip to the Starbucks drive-through is nothing short of a mess, but a pleasant one. After everyone’s been introduced and formalities have been thrown out the window, Ten puts on some music and a conversation begins. They talk about their degrees, university, favorite musical artists and preferences when it comes to coffee orders - Wooyoung’s watered down americano is denounced quite a few times. 

 

When Jongho attempts to pull out his card, Ten gently pushes his hand back, “It’s on the company,” he tells him, showing off the shiny black credit card between his fingers. 

 

While the others are distracted in their own conversations, Ten turns to his side. Yunho is slumped against the window, eyes following the trickling raindrops that run down the glass. It’s not thundering yet, but the sky is gloomy enough to make a point. 

 

“What’s on your mind?” Ten asks, “You’ve been quite quiet today.” 

 

While he and Ten aren’t the best of friends, the two have grown quite close these past few months, to the point of always having lively, comfortable conversations and bickering when they meet, or when Ten drives him to the Kim-Park household, the company or his dorms. It’s enough for Ten to notice. 

 

“Just tired,” Yunho offers, “Overworked. Not getting enough sleep. But I’m under strict orders from San to not think about my problems today.” 

 

“Looks like you’re failing,” Ten chuckles, but there’s no malice. “C’mon, cheer up. You’re going to have a wonderful time with your friends and partners today, isn’t that right?” 

 

Partners? 

 

“Wha-” 

 

“It might be kind of hectic once we get there, but don’t worry. Today’s all about having fun.” 

 

“Right.” 

 

“I saw the clothes they picked for you guys,” Ten says in a tone that indicates this as indulgent gossip, “They’re gorgeous. Yours, especially… Ah, I shouldn’t spoil the surprise for you…” 

 

“Wait, no, now I need to know!” 

 

“You’ll just have to wait,” Ten lets go of the steering wheel to jab at Yunho’s side, eliciting a high-pitched giggle from the other, “See, isn’t it nice to smile?” 

 

Yunho chuckles quietly, appreciating Ten’s efforts to cheer him up. 

 

Their orders come through and the rest of the drive to the Aurora headquarters is spent consuming pastries and sugary coffee between conversation. They ask Ten lots of questions about his work, his everyday schedule and what Seonghwa and Hongjoong are like. 

 

“Why aren’t you guys asking me?” Yunho asks with a faux pout, happier now that he’s munching on a praline croissant. 

 

“Your perception is going to be biased,” Jongho explains, “It’s like you guys asking me about Mingi. I’m infatuated with him, how could I ever see his flaws?” 

 

“Why do you assume I have any flaws to begin with?” Mingi jokes, leaning into Jongho’s one-arm embrace. 

 

“All you’ve ever told us is how good they are to you,” San whines, “I wanna hear some gossip!” 

 

Ten chuckles, “Even if I told you,” he says, looking at them through the rearview mirror, “I would have to silence you immediately.” 

 

“You’ve bought our silence with food and coffee,” Wooyoung clarifies, “You can now expose your employers in peace.” 

 

“Ah wonderful!” Ten laughs loudly, and the entire car joins him in a symphony of giggles. “Well, to be honest, I’m quite satisfied with my job. I love it. Even if Mr. Kim can be kind of a tyrant sometimes.” 

 

“He’s not-” Yunho tries to protest. 

 

Tyrant could be a bit of an exaggeration, but that’s what most of the office calls him,” Ten explains, “I doubt he sleeps more than three hours at night, so he’s always running on numerous cups of coffee, and that makes decision making during boardroom meetings quite intense.” 

 

“He sleeps fine with me…” 

 

Ten’s smirks, “You sound just like Mr. Park sometimes,” he laughs. 

 

“He sleeps fine with you because you fuck like rabbits!” Wooyoung shouts and the entire SUV shakes with laughter and cackles. 

 

“Where’d you find friends like that?” Ten asks Yunho after he finally catches his breath. 

 

Yunho slumps further into the seat, face red like a cherry. 





It’s no secret that the company always works like a well-maintained machine, its gears infinitely circling and generating power and creativity. Tonight brings no exceptions to its reputation as each floor is a hectic mess of employees and interns running up and down in fancier clothes than usual, passing papers and information from one person to another. There’s a tall, domineering woman in huge, high-heeled boots who seems to be the main person coordinating everything, as she’s sought after by secretaries, journalists, models and workers alike. Ten takes them to the STAFF ONLY elevator so they can get some momentary peace and quiet from all the ruckus, and, once they’ve reached the floor Seonghwa’s office is situated, he starts briefing them on tonight’s agenda. His voice takes a very specific tone, one that Yunho recognizes as the one he uses when he means business. 

 

“As you already know, the clothes you will be wearing tonight are going to be featured in the showcase. They’re all handmade and carefully tailored to your personal tastes, based on what Yunho here informed us. Still, don’t be afraid to ask for adjustments in the measurements before you take your seats and the event begins. We still have time, so don’t wait until it’s too late - in the hour leading up to the show Mr. Kim will be completely unapproachable, as he’ll be backstage monitoring the models.” 

 

“Yes, hyung,” Mingi says. Ten smiles at him, clearly satisfied with how attentive they are. 

 

“Good.” 

 

“Ah, I’m excited,” San claps his hands together gently, mimicking applause, “Are Hongjoong’s clothes as pretty as you described them?” For this question, he whispers it to Yunho, just as Ten slowly opens the door to Seonghwa’s office after knocking. 

 

“They’re like works of art,” Yunho admits, fidgeting nervously. Now that Ten has teased him, he can’t help but let his mind wander on the possibilities of what Hongjoong could have picked out for him. 

 

He still hasn’t been able to shed the bitter taste of guilt that’s been keeping his mouth occupied ever since that phone call. What has he ever done to deserve such kindness? 

 

“Good evening, nice to meet you all!” Seonghwa’s voice is cheerful - Yunho hadn’t even noticed the doors had opened. He’s dressed in a fitted pair of suit pants, a turtleneck and a large, emerald fur coat that’s littered with shiny, floral embroidery across the sleeves. His hair is down, framing his face and accentuating the dark makeup around his eyes and mouth. Perhaps Yunho should have warned his friends that one of his sugar daddies is actually an immortal forest nymph. “Come inside, sit. I’m Seonghwa and this is my husband Hongjoong.” 

 

“Hi guys!” 

 

The funny thing about Yunho’s heart is that it reacts to everything so strongly, many times rendering him weak at the knees with how intensely he feels ; long ago, when his mother still looked at him with an expression of soft features and warm eyes, she used to tell him that his heart was going to get him in trouble one day, That he’d need to become tough to face the real world. 

 

All his heart can do now is beat erratically in his chest, exposing his true, lovesick disposition. 

 

Hongjoong’s hair is stark white, otherworldly, shorter in length but still retaining its mullet-esque shape. Mismatched strands of hair have been curled to point outwards, decorated with metallic butterflies that form a crown-like formation around his head. His makeup consists of simple splotches of eyeshadow around his eyelids and cheeks and nose that match to the colored fabrics of his dress - it’s embroidered with pictures depicting scenes of nature, animals, celestial bodies and people, some dressed in clothes and others flying around in fairy-like wings. 

 

He looks nothing like the Hongjoong he met a few months ago, one that was made of nebulae and pitch-black sky. The sun has risen, and Hongjoong has bloomed under her rays. 

 

“Wah, you look like a fairy!” Mingi exclaims, and judging by Hongjoong’s smile and nose scrunch, he’s hit the jackpot. 

 

“That’s exactly what I was going for,” he says, “I’m fairy Hongjoong, nice to meet you!” 

 

While the others take turns in introducing themselves - some more intimidated by the luxurious power couple than others - Seonghwa sneaks an arm around Yunho while everyone else is distracted, bringing him close to his torso. 

 

“Hi puppy,” a gentle kiss on the nose, “Feeling shy today?” 

 

“Uhm, maybe?” Yunho offers, unsure. 

 

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa plays with his hair, “Your friends seem so lively and fun, they’re getting along with Hongjoongie so well! Oh, I should show you your outfit, you’re going to love it! By the way, do you want me to bring any drinks for you guys? Something to snack on? Might be too early for cocktails, I’ll have to ask for something non-alcoholic…” 

 

“Hyung,” Yunho lets out a weak chuckle, “Are you stressed?” 

 

Seonghwa sighs, “A little. Okay, maybe a lot. Please don’t form an alliance with my husband and turn this against me - if Hongjoong finds out I’m even a little bit anxious, he’s going to abandon everything to comfort me. And we don’t want that today.” 

 

“You’re a lucky man, hyung,” Yunho mumbles wistfully. 

 

“You’re the luckiest one,” Seonghwa teases him, ruffling his hair, “Oh, I have to show you your outfit, you’re going to love it. Come with me…” 

 

Their clothes are placed in the fancy changing room right next to Seonghwa’s en suite office bathroom - an explosion of colors, fabrics and textures, all carefully hanging across a rack with each name written on a tag to indicate which is whose. When Yunho’s eyes finally land on his name, his lips part, mouth hanging open in awe. 

 

The first thing that catches his eye is the giant, stitched on butterfly across the chest of the sheer shirt, made up of beads and gems in blue hues, its wings stretching across from one shoulder to the other. The intricacies of the design are so well made that its translucent wings look almost realistic from a quick glance. 

 

Seonghwa notices him staring, and takes the hanger out of the rack, showing the outfit off in its entirety - that’s when Yunho notices the embroidered stars, ribbons and eye that surround the butterfly, the tassles across the hem of the shirt and the waist cuffs of the loose, chiffon sleeves that hang delicately, leaving the shoulders exposed. The pants, tight-fitted and matching with the shirt in a pastel blue color, are decorated with patches in blockier shapes; they depict hearts, clouds and flowers, sunrays an artistic depiction of two faces meeting in a kiss. The daintiness of the shirt contrasts the canvas-like disposition of the pants, and it’s loud and colorful and full of stories and feelings and so Hongjoong that Yunho wants to cry. 

 

“It’s so you, ” says Seonghwa, “When Hongjoong showed it to me, he told me “Isn’t this just perfect for Yunho?” and I couldn’t help but agree.” 

 

“It’s… glorious,” Yunho whispers, “It’s like a painting, like a piece of art…” 

 

“You should tell him,” Seonghwa places the hanger on the rack again and approaches Yunho with his empty hands, wrapping them around his waist. His chest touches Seonghwa’s, and their mouths are only inches away from one another, “He’ll be so happy to hear that.” 

 

They kiss, and Yunho melts in an embrace that’s so familiar now it terrifies him, “I’ll leave you alone to change, and then we can get started on your hair and make up, hm?” 

 

“In a bit,” Yunho says breathlessly, “For now, kiss me more, please-” 

 

“Oh, puppy,” Seonghwa chuckles, “Right here? I don’t think we can-” 

 

“J-just, take whatever you want from me,” Yunho begs, not thinking much about the whys or hows, or what he actually needs, “Take it from me, take-” 

 

“Shh,” his hyung comforts him, “The others will have to come in and change too,” he whispers, “I can’t take care of you properly, my love. I promise you tonight, once we get home, we’ll be all yours. Can you be good until then?” 

 

Yunho’s frantic turmoil subsides in the minutes Seonghwa spends languidly kissing him, licking into the inside of his mouth and sucking on his lips tenderly. He does so until their mouths go numb and his lipstick gets messy and transfers on Yunho’s mouth, until Seonghwa feels the other relax like a ragdoll in his embrace, until he knows it’s okay to pull away. 

 

“There we go, feeling better?” 

 

“Mmhm.” 

 

“Alright my love, I’ll let you get changed now. Call me if you need any help, okay?” 

 

In the placidity of the changing room, Yunho observes himself in the mirror. The clothes fit him just right, perfectly tailored to the contours and valleys of his body, their opulence carefully crafted by Hongjoong’s skilled hands. 

 

“I don’t deserve this,” he whispers to himself. 

 

Before wallowing in his thoughts any further, he gets distracted by the loud ruckus outside, and he quickly enters the office again to find it in a state of disarray. 

 

“It’s not that bad!” San says in a tone that’s anything but reassuring, “See, just rub it in, you can’t even see it-” 

 

“Don’t touch me!” a new voice says, clearly offended, “Who even are you-” 

 

“I’m Hongjoong’s friend,” San declares. 

 

“You’re Hongjoong’s friend?” the other person asks in disbelief. 

 

“Of course, haven’t we become good friends in the past hour, hyung? We’re all Hongjoong’s friends.” 

 

“I don’t believe that for one second,” the man says, and when Yunho sees who it is, he gasps. 

 

Kang Yeosang is standing in the middle of Seonghwa’s office, with a huge stain of americano coffee on his pristine white cashmere turtleneck. 

 

“You ruined it!” Yeosang protests, showing the stain off to San as if isn’t the size of a large plate already, “I can’t believe this, how clumsy do you have to be-” 

 

“Hey!” Wooyoung shouts suddenly, “Listen here rich boy, as if you don’t have enough money already to buy hundreds of these sweaters. It was an honest mistake, no need to be a bitch about it. Now I’d appreciate it if you left my boyfriend alone.” 

 

Yeosang looks positively gobsmacked, as if he’s never had anyone be this upfront by him - and if anyone was going to talk like that, it would be Wooyoung. 

 

“Why don’t we take it easy,” Hongjoong suggests once the room has quietened down, “I apologize profusely for this, Yeosang-ah. However, it was a clumsy mistake, so why don’t we put this past us? I have something that is just your style for you to wear, and I’ll ask my personal assistant to put this in the wash in the studio. You’ll have it back by the end of the night. How does that sound?” 

 

Yeosang looks like a wounded cat, eyes squinting and jaw clenched, “It’s cashmere, you know...” 

 

“I know. I’ll make sure nothing happens to it.” 

 

“Ugh, fine,” he rolls his eyes. Then, he notices Yunho, “Wait, I know you. You’re… Yunho?” 

 

“T-that’s me,” he says, smiling, “And these are my friends. Mingi, Jongho, Wooyoung and San. We’ll be attending the showcase as well, we’re just getting ready…” 

 

“I’ve got you seated quite close to each other,” Seonghwa laughs awkwardly. 

 

Yeosang gives him a death stare, “Change mine. Immediately .” 

 

“But why,” Wooyoung says snarkily and nudges him, seemingly unafraid of the ticking time bomb that is trust fund kid Yeosang with a stained cashmere sweater, “Let’s get to know each other more , Yeosang.” 

 

It’s going to be a long, eventful day.