Chapter Text
Seonghwa knows, without looking, that Hongjoong is glaring at him. He’s been painting walls for hours now, since Yunho, Mingi, and San recruited him to join the “Tall Guys” move-in crew. Hongjoong’s part of the “Small Guys” crew, which includes him and Wooyoung. Their job is to, in Wooyoung’s words, supervise. This consists of them following the Tall Guys from room to room, Wooyoung catcalling San (and everyone else, of course, except for Seonghwa—Hongjoong doesn’t allow that) and Hongjoong alternating between glaring at Seonghwa and giving feedback on various other people’s jobs as they ask.
Seonghwa’s feeling bratty today, so he hasn’t acknowledged Hongjoong’s glares yet. It’s taken a great deal of self-control, and he’s quite proud of himself. When Wooyoung asked (a bit loudly) if Hongjoong was mad at Seonghwa, Seonghwa could sense Hongjoong’s blush like the heat of a thousand suns, and still he didn’t look over.
It’s been so long now, though, and Seonghwa’s bored. Yunho and Mingi have both taken suspiciously coinciding bathroom breaks (especially suspicious given the fact that there’s a bathroom connected to the room they’re painting, and neither of them went in there) and San’s halfway across the room, paint roller forgotten in his hand, flirting with Wooyoung, so there’s nobody to stop him from taking his own break—just a little one.
He leans against the unpainted portion of the wall, pulls his phone out, and sends a text to Hongjoong.
Me:
What are you glaring at?
You seem really focused
He sees, out of the corner of his eye, Hongjoong lifting his phone and glowering at it. His own phone buzzes.
Joongie:
I’m not glaring at anything
And obviously. I’m focused on helping Yeosang hang paintings over here
Seonghwa breathes out a laugh.
Me:
Huh
Don’t seem too focused on him
You haven’t said anything to him in at least twenty minutes
He just asked you for input and you ignored him
Joongie:
Aren’t you supposed to be painting?
Who isn’t focused?
Me:
You
😘
Seonghwa puts his phone away, going back to painting. Since Hongjoong insists. His shirt lifts just barely, revealing a sliver of his waist, as he stretches to reach the top of the wall, and he doesn’t make any attempt to adjust it. He feels Hongjoong’s eyes on him again and smiles. Yeosang has resorted to asking Wooyoung and San for input.
“Hey guys,” Yunho says, poking his head into the room. His hair is significantly less neat than it was before his and Mingi’s “bathroom” break. “Jongho brought pizza. In the kitchen.”
Seonghwa sets down his paint roller and starts toward the hallway. He’s only made it two steps out of the room before he feels a hand close around his wrist and is hauled out to the back porch.
“How soon can we go home?” Hongjoong hisses, not letting go of his wrist.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “You dragged me out here just to ask me that?”
“It’s an important question!”
“Why do you want to go home so bad?”
“I’m bored here.”
Seonghwa smiles softly. “Is that all?”
“Shut up,” Hongjoong mumbles, flushing. “Can we leave after we eat?”
“I mean, there’s still a lot to do to get Yunho and Mingi moved in. Do you want to just abandon them to do it themselves?”
“There’s plenty of other people here. And if they’d just focus on painting instead of taking breaks every five minutes, they could finish your part of the wall in no time.”
“Well,” Seonghwa laughs, shaking his wrist so Hongjoong’s hand falls down into his, “let’s go eat and see how things look afterward. If they don’t need more help we’ll leave.”
Hongjoong nods, and Seonghwa pushes the screen door open, walking back inside and pulling Hongjoong after him.
Their late entrance into the kitchen is immediately noticed by Wooyoung.
“Were you guys fucking?” he says plainly.
“We were right by a window,” Hongjoong snaps, a bit harshly, his face bright red. “And we were gone for less than two minutes. Why would you think that?”
Wooyoung shrugs, unfazed by his acerbity. “With how you dragged him out there, I made the reasonable assumption that it was either for an argument or a quickie.”
Seonghwa laughs and jumps in before Hongjoong can get more uncomfortable. “We were just talking about our plans for today. Joongie has a doctor’s appointment.”
Joongie does not have a doctor’s appointment. At least, not today. It wasn’t a lie, since Hongjoong always has at least one doctor’s appointment scheduled (or Seonghwa always has one scheduled for him, and Hongjoong allows himself to be checked up on).
In fact, they don’t have any plans today other than Hongjoong dragging Seonghwa to the nearest sofa as soon as they get home, depositing him on it, and crawling onto his lap to begin work on the same experiment he’s been running for nearly a month now.
Hongjoong’s first attempt at this experiment involved warning Seonghwa a few days beforehand.
“Seonghwa…” he had said over lunch one day, his face at its reddest and most adorable. “I want to try something.”
This (the blush most of all) was immediately intriguing.
“Oh?” Seonghwa said, at his most innocent and casual, so as not to scare Hongjoong. “What do you want to try?”
Despite his careful handling of the situation, it took a good five minutes to get it out of Hongjoong.
“I want to try touching under your shirt,” Hongjoong finally mumbled, not meeting Seonghwa’s eyes, his face somehow growing even more flushed. “Not today!” he hurried to add. “Just…sometime. I don’t know.”
Seonghwa had never been so turned on in his life.
“That would be fun,” he had said softly, and Hongjoong had nodded barely perceptibly.
He whispered, “Would you be okay with that?”
“Of course, Joongie. You can try that anytime.”
Hongjoong first tried it three days later, when they got home from Yunho’s after staying over from Mario Kart night. They’d barely touched since the afternoon before (Hongjoong doesn’t do well with affection in public), so of course they had fallen fairly quickly into kissing. Hongjoong seemed stiffer than normal, and then his fingers slipped just underneath the hem of Seonghwa’s shirt, brushing lightly against his waist. Seonghwa didn’t move a muscle. Barely even breathed. Still, Hongjoong had stopped after just a few seconds, backing off entirely and retreating to the balcony. Seonghwa gave him a few minutes before following.
“You okay?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong from behind.
Hongjoong nodded, not saying anything, and Seonghwa dropped a kiss on the top of his head.
After a few minutes, Hongjoong spoke quietly. “I’m sorry. I got embarrassed.”
“No, don’t apologize, baby,” Seonghwa said, squeezing his waist.
“But I don’t want it to be like this,” Hongjoong had whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m too embarrassed to act like I’m in love with you. Even when there’s no one around. You deserve better.”
That struck a nerve. Seonghwa sure as hell wasn’t going to have any talk of deserving or of not being good enough—one attempted divorce over those ideas was more than enough for a lifetime. He turned Hongjoong around to face him, putting his hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. Maybe he was even glaring a bit, he’s not sure. “There’s no one better for me than you, Hongjoong,” he said.
“But you…you’re not like me. Touching’s easy for you, and you want things to move fast. Right?”
“It’s true that…physical contact is pretty natural for me,” Seonghwa said, choosing his words carefully, “and I’m comfortable moving a lot faster than you. But I’m fine with any speed. Fast or slow.”
Hongjoong swallowed audibly, his face going red. He looked away from Seonghwa before he spoke again, and his voice was even more quiet than before. “Do you wish we did sex…and stuff?”
Seonghwa sighed at that. “It depends on what you mean by ‘wish’. I’m in love with you, and one of the ways I express love is through sex. And I’m always very attracted to you. So yes, I want to have sex with you. But even if we never have sex, I’ll be just fine.”
“That’s not what I want, though,” said Hongjoong. “I want to be able to have sex with you.” His face turned purple at the admission. “I just can’t do it. Not yet, at least. That’s why I’m annoyed that I couldn’t even handle what I just did. I’m trying to work up slowly, but not this slowly.”
They stood there for a long time, Seonghwa soothing Hongjoong and assuring him that it was okay to be embarrassed, and okay to take as much time as he needed.
The next day, Hongjoong had attempted his experiment again. It was slow going, but there was progress.
Now, weeks later, Seonghwa thinks they might be close to a breakthrough. Well, he would think that, if he had any capacity to think right now. He’s a bit preoccupied currently, what with Hongjoong’s lips traveling along his jaw, dangerously close to his neck, and Hongjoong’s hand on his waist—over the shirt for now, but creeping slowly toward the hem. Seonghwa can feel blood rushing south, and he adjusts his position so Hongjoong won’t be able to feel him getting hard. That would definitely kill his vibe.
Seonghwa’s hands are on Hongjoong’s waist, holding him close, and his head is leaned back to give Hongjoong access to his neck in case he decides to venture there. He’s never yet done that, but there’s always a chance.
Warm fingers brush up against the skin of Seonghwa’s waist, and he lets out a soft breath, relaxing into the touch. Now that Hongjoong’s passed the first hurdle, he’s much bolder. He slides his hands up further, along Seonghwa’s sides, and kisses back along Seonghwa’s jaw, Seonghwa tipping his head back down to give better access to his mouth.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong whispers, lips moving against his with the words. It’s the first time he’s talked during their experimentations, which makes it all the more thrilling.
“Hmm?” Seonghwa says, but it comes out a bit like a whimper. He curses himself for doing anything so blatantly sexual, in case it scares Hongjoong away again.
Hongjoong’s hands stretch, fingers curling to dig just barely into Seonghwa’s back, and Seonghwa holds back another whimper. The wonderful thing about being married to Hongjoong is that no matter how slow they take things, he still drives Seonghwa insane. He probably still will when they’re eighty-four.
“You looked pretty while you were painting,” Hongjoong says, his voice lower and quieter than normal, and this time Seonghwa doesn’t even disguise his whimper, regretting it immediately when Hongjoong pulls back from kissing him. Instead of running away, though, he just stares into Seonghwa’s eyes, a little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s never done that during their research either—eye contact or smiling. Well, he’s tried eye contact, and then he’s gotten the hell out of wherever they were at the time. He’s never even been able to attempt a smile.
But now he does both, his hands against Seonghwa’s shoulder blades, the skin of his arms pressing all the way down Seonghwa’s back, and Seonghwa shivers.
Seonghwa isn’t inexperienced by any means, but somehow Hongjoong manages to have more effect on him just by looking at him than any of the people he’s slept with.
“Hongjoongie…” he whispers.
“Yes, baby?”
Holy Mother of Christ.
Seonghwa lets out a strangled noise, his head falling back again.
Hongjoong breathes out a little laugh, sliding a hand to Seonghwa’s chest and drawing a little pattern at his collarbone.
“What did you want to say?” Hongjoong murmurs.
Seonghwa stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” he breathes.
He can feel Hongjoong’s dick growing hard against his thigh, and he closes his eyes, willing himself to remain calm.
Hongjoong’s only gotten hard one other time during their experimentations, which occurrence put a swift end to that session. Seonghwa prays to any god that will listen that this time Hongjoong will stay.
He does. He lets his hands slide back down Seonghwa’s torso, wrapping his arms tight around his waist and pressing himself up against his chest. He drops his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, breathing heavily against his neck.
Seonghwa is in heaven.
Sure, his dick is throbbing uncomfortably, aching for some relief, but if that’s what it takes to rest here like this with his Joongie? The discomfort is well worth it.
Almost pleasant, even.
Um. He’ll have to think about that later. He wants to be present right now.
Hongjoong’s breathing slowly calms, and Seonghwa brings a hand up to comb gently through his hair.
“You know,” he murmurs, still staring at the ceiling, “I’m in love with you.”
Hongjoong releases a long breath, slow and shaky, tickling Seonghwa’s neck.
“I’m sorry I can’t do more right now,” he whispers.
“No, baby,” Seonghwa says, lifting his head to look down at Hongjoong, whose eyes are shut tight, “don’t apologize to me. I love it just like this.”
Hongjoong flushes, opening his eyes to meet Seonghwa’s. “I’m not just apologizing to you. I…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, just squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his arms around Seonghwa’s waist.
They stay there for hours, not moving, until Hongjoong’s stomach growls, at which point he scrambles to his feet. Seonghwa stands up quickly to steady him as he wobbles.
“You’re supposed to stand up slow, Joongie,” he says.
“Whatever,” Hongjoong mumbles, blinking.
“What should we do for dinner?” Seonghwa says. “I’m starving.”
“Don’t we have a bunch of leftovers from Wednesday?”
“Hey,” Hongjoong says, as Seonghwa swallows the last of his dinner.
“…is for horses,” Seonghwa finishes for him, and Hongjoong swings his leg out, knocking against Seonghwa’s shin with his foot. Seonghwa hooks his legs around Hongjoong’s ankle and won’t let him go, so he clumsily scoots his chair forward.
“What were you going to say?” Seonghwa says innocently, when Hongjoong’s firmly seated again.
Hongjoong laughs, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a brat.”
“But you love me anyway,” Seonghwa beams.
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. I didn’t say it earlier, but I am in love with you.”
Seonghwa gasps, hand flying to his chest. “Who, me?”
“Yes,” Hongjoong says, smirking. “Madly.” He stands up, taking their dishes to the sink. “I want to marry you someday.”
“Oh dear,” says Seonghwa. “We aren’t even dating yet. Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to be talking about marriage?”
Hongjoong shrugs, turning on the water. “I just have a feeling it’ll be good.”
Seonghwa comes to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s waist and bending down to rest his chin on his shoulder. “Well,” he says, “if you must know, I want to marry you too.” He lets go and grabs a dish towel, taking the dishes Hongjoong hands him. He dries them and puts them in the cabinet, then pulls Hongjoong in, rocking back and forth.
“Can I ask you a question about sex and stuff?” he says, and Hongjoong nods against his shoulder. “I know you get embarrassed and uncomfortable when you talk about or do anything sexual. But I don’t know why you get embarrassed about it when we’re alone. There’s no one to judge you or anything like that. Is there some other reason?”
Hongjoong squirms out of Seonghwa’s arms and bolts, diving into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. Seonghwa stares at the bathroom door, blinking. He probably should have seen this coming.
He sighs and trudges over to the bed, flopping down onto his face. His phone starts to ring, and he blindly swipes to answer it, bringing it up to his ear.
“Hello?” he says.
“It’s me,” says his favorite voice in the world, and he can hear it vaguely from the bathroom too.
Seonghwa breathes out a soft laugh. “Hi, you. What’s up?”
“Are you busy?”
“No, why?”
“Someone asked me an awkward question, so I wanted to rehearse my answer with you. Is that okay?”
Seonghwa smiles, closing his eyes. Hongjoong is adorable. “Yeah, that’s fine. What was the question?”
“It’s really, really embarrassing. I don’t know if—“
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa interrupts. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.” Hongjoong blows out a breath. “Well. My husband asked why I get embarrassed about doing sexual things with him. Cause I’m really bad with PDA, but that’s because other people are there, so I think he’s confused why there’s still issues when no one else is there.”
Seonghwa hums. “Okay. So, how do you want to answer?”
“Well, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. That’s really important. So I need to find the right way to explain this. The thing is, even if no one else is there, he’s still there. And I care more about what he thinks than anyone else, so it’s even more scary that he might judge me than them. You know?”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Seonghwa rolls onto his side, looking at the picture of himself on Hongjoong’s bedside table. A blurry picture of him sitting in the middle of the flower fields, looking off away from the camera. He needs to get Hongjoong to put a picture of himself on there too, so he can stare at it.
“But that’s not all,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa closes his eyes so he can pay better attention. “Part of me is always afraid that someone will somehow see us doing something. Even if it’s just me and Seonghwa at our house, for some reason I feel like someone’s going to find some way to get in and we’ll get caught. Or someone will see us through a window. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s hard to convince my brain not to worry about it. Because, even if it’s super unlikely, someone could see us sometime. So I get nervous.”
“I think it makes sense to get nervous. Even if it probably won’t happen, your brain wants to keep you safe just in case.”
“Yeah. And I don’t know how to convince it that I’m safe.”
“Hmm.”
“I also don’t want to make it Seonghwa’s problem. He shouldn’t have to fix my mental problems.”
Seonghwa laughs a bit. “I don’t know if mental problems is the right word—”
“Don’t be nice to me,” Hongjoong says. “That’s Seonghwa’s job. Be honest: do you think going to therapy would help?”
“Like, couples therapy?”
“No, just individual therapy. To help me work through my fears, or whatever.”
Seonghwa rolls back onto his back, opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. He purses his lips, thinking. “It might help,” he says finally. “Do you want to try it?”
“Want is a strong word,” says Hongjoong, laughing stiltedly, “because that would mean I’d have to talk to someone about it. But I do want to figure it out, and the more I think about it, the more I think therapy’s a good option.”
“Alright,” says Seonghwa, “then I’d say you should do it. Seonghwa would probably set up an appointment for you if you asked.”
Hongjoong laughs, for real this time. “What, you think I was going to set it up myself? Of course Seonghwa will do it.”
Seonghwa laughs too, sitting up and looking at the bathroom door. “About the other thing, Hongjoong…the part about telling him you’re afraid of him judging you…”
“Hmm?”
“Therapy might help with that fear too, but I bet Seonghwa will want to help too. I think he’d want to try to make it clear that he’s not judging you and would never judge you. How do you think he could make that clear? I mean, in situations where you might be worried that he’ll judge you, what could he do (or not do) to show that he only ever thinks the best things about you. To show that he doesn’t think you’re bad at anything, or that anything you’re doing is weird. You know?”
Hongjoong doesn’t answer for a while, and Seonghwa closes his eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing.
“Well,” he finally says, “I think when people act like something I’m doing is a big deal, that makes me think they’re judging me for it. That’s why I don’t like PDA—because everyone freaks out, so I know they’re thinking about it and if I do anything wrong they’ll see, and they’ll make a big deal of that too. If people acted like things were normal, then I’d be less nervous about them. Seonghwa’s really good at that, actually. When I try new things, he just lets me do them without acting like they’re huge and momentous. That’s probably what I really need to tell him. I can say, ‘Seonghwa, I get nervous even when it’s just you because I care about what you think and I don’t want you to think I’m stupid or weird. But you’re really good at helping me feel comfortable, and the way you act lets me do a lot more than I normally would because I don’t get so nervous. So, if you could keep doing exactly what you’re doing, that would be great.’” Hongjoong laughs. “Do you think that would work?”
“He’ll probably fall in love with you all over again if you say that,” Seonghwa says. “I would, at least.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re already in love with me?”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“You can’t flirt with me. I’m married.”
“But you’re so cute—”
Hongjoong hangs up on him, and a few seconds later the bathroom door opens with a bang.
“Seonghwa!”
“What?”
“I was calling my best friend and he flirted with me.”
Seonghwa gasps, and Hongjoong sits down on the bed next to him.
“Don’t worry,” he says, patting Seonghwa’s knee, “I hung up on him.”
“What did he say to you, though?”
“He said I’m cute.”
“Well, you are.” Seonghwa stops, narrowing his eyes at Hongjoong. “Do you think he’s cute?”
Hongjoong doesn’t say anything, and Seonghwa points at him accusingly.
“You do, don’t you?”
Hongjoong hangs his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“You should have thought of that before you fell in love with another man!”
“I never said I was in love with—”
“Don’t give me your excuses. I thought it was weird how often he was sleeping over with you, and now it all makes sense.”
“No, Seonghwa, I can explai—”
Seonghwa does his best to sneer. “Don’t bother. Since you love sleeping with him so much, I’m sure you won’t mind staying with him tonight.”
“But—”
Seonghwa stands up, marching over to Hongjoong’s bedroom door and flinging it open. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”
Hongjoong hangs his head and makes his way to the door, lips trembling. Seonghwa watches as he disappears slowly down the hallway.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Seonghwa’s sprinting down the hall, taking a right where Hongjoong took a left. He makes his way through the maze of his house, rushing into his own bedroom and shutting the door behind him right as his phone starts to ring again. Joongie.
He answers it. “Hello?” he says breathlessly.
“He found us out,” says Hongjoong.
“Damn it.”
“And he kicked me out. Can I come over?”
“Of course, baby. You know I always want you here.”
“Thanks.” Hongjoong sniffles violently, as if he’s been crying. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Alright, see you soon, pookie,” Seonghwa says, hanging up (cutting off the strangled noise Hongjoong’s making).
There’s a knock on the bedroom door, and he throws it open, reaching out a hand and hauling Hongjoong in by the collar of his shirt. He shuts the door with one hand, pushing Hongjoong up against it and attempting to kiss him passionately. It’s difficult, given how much Hongjoong’s laughing.
Seonghwa pulls back. “You just got caught cheating on your husband and you’re laughing? Shameless.”
“You called me pookie,” Hongjoong says. “How am I supposed to take that seriously?” He leans forward, giving Seonghwa a quick peck. “Besides, that was all so unexpected,” he says. “One minute I was happily married and the next I was in the middle of a torrid affair.”
Seonghwa pouts. “You’re not being very torrid about it.”
Hongjoong laughs again, falling forward to drape himself on Seonghwa. “I’m not a very torrid person,” he says into Seonghwa’s neck. “It’s possible you could have picked a better partner for your affair.”
Seonghwa sweeps him up, depositing him on the bed and looking down at him with what he hopes is a dark, impassioned expression. “I can teach you,” he says, lowering his voice, “how to be torrid.” Hongjoong’s lips twitch, and Seonghwa collapses down on top of him, both of them laughing.
“How’d we end up cheating on each other?” Hongjoong says, after a bit.
“You’re the one who called me to talk about me. The rest followed naturally.”
“I didn’t call you, I called my best friend.”
“Exactly. The one who’s in love with you.”
“Is he?”
Seonghwa nods. “Madly.”
Later, when they’re lying in bed, Seonghwa wrapped around Hongjoong like some sort of boa constrictor, Hongjoong takes a deep, quiet breath.
“Seonghwa?” he whispers.
“Hmm?”
“I get embarrassed by things even when it’s just you because I care about what you think. ‘Cause I don’t want you to think I’m weird. But you help me not be nervous, ‘cause you never make a big deal out of me trying new things. I really like that. I like everything about you. If you could just…keep doing all of it…I’d love that.”
“Aww, baby,” Seonghwa coos, pressing a kiss to his hair, “I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”
Joongie’s is packed at lunchtime on Saturday, when they go for their weekly meeting. Since Friday was reserved for helping Yunho and Mingi move, they rescheduled it to today, and decided to forego Minnie’s in favor of something more meal-oriented.
“So,” says Hongjoong, picking up a piece of chicken, “you have some explaining to do.”
“About what?” Seonghwa’s mouth is full, but Hongjoong’s never bothered by that. Reason #7328 that he’s the perfect husband for Seonghwa.
“You got mad at me last night for cheating on you and kicked me out. Come to find out, you’ve been cheating on me too, and you immediately went to spend the night with your stupid side dick. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“First of all,” Seonghwa says, swallowing his food, “I don’t appreciate you calling him stupid. Secondly, if you do it, I can too.”
They stare each other down for a bit, then Hongjoong smiles.
“So it cancels out, right?” he says, sticking out a hand.
Seonghwa grins and shakes it, nodding. “Pleasure to be on good terms again.”
They eat in silence for a bit, and then Hongjoong says, “Do we have any appointments this week?”
“One with Soyeon on Tuesday, that’s all.”
“You don’t happen to have any therapist friends, do you?”
“Why? Do you want a therapist?”
Hongjoong sighs. “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t have any therapist friends. But I did happen to do a deep dive on therapists in the area just this morning, so I’ve got some recommendations…”
Hongjoong does not look happy when he gets home from his first therapy appointment the next week.
“Oh dear,” says Seonghwa, sitting up from where he’s lying on the couch and closing his book. “Was it that bad? Do we need to find a new therapist?”
Hongjoong huffs and drops down onto the couch next to Seonghwa, slumping down. “No,” he grumbles, “she was great.”
“Okay… so what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Hongjoong says, and then he looks over at Seonghwa, smiling a bit. “I was just hoping she wouldn’t say I had to do anything. But she said next week we’ll talk about some action plans.” He laughs. “I hate action.”
“What kind of action plans?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll just have to start journaling.” Hongjoong shrugs, then sits up and turns to face Seonghwa more fully. “What are you reading?”
“Letters to Yves.”
“Read to me?”
Seonghwa curls up, resting his head in Hongjoong’s lap, and starts to read.
That night, as Seonghwa’s brushing his teeth in Hongjoong’s bathroom, Hongjoong comes up behind him and hugs him, fingers slipping under his shirt just a bit. He doesn’t even seem to notice the skin contact.
“Meeting at three thirty tomorrow?” he says, standing up on his toes to make eye contact with Seonghwa in the mirror, and Seonghwa nods, smiling.
He leans down to spit out his toothpaste really quick, rinsing his mouth, then looks up at Hongjoong. “Minnie’s?”
“Yup,” says Hongjoong, letting go of his waist just to grab his hand and drag him out of the bathroom.
“Hongjoongie,” Seonghwa says, pulling back and laughing, “I’m not done, I’m doing a mask tonight.”
“I know,” says Hongjoong, “and I have to kiss you before you do it.”
Seonghwa smiles and lets himself be towed to the sofa and climbed like a jungle gym.
“You’re cute,” says Seonghwa, and Hongjoong glares at him before going for the jugular.
Seonghwa’s already feeling very rejuvenated by the time he gets around to putting on his sheet mask.
When Seonghwa shows up at Minnie’s, the barista is too busy flirting with another customer to give him the time of day (or, in other words, Minho’s visiting Jisung at work again), so Seonghwa’s grateful to see that Hongjoong is already seated, with drinks for both of them. Seonghwa takes the seat across from him, looking pointedly at the blatant display of affection happening at the counter.
Hongjoong smiles politely, keeping his eyes on Seonghwa. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Exactly.”
Seonghwa laughs. “I’m glad we met here. I like spying on them.”
Hongjoong steadfastly looks in any direction but the “them” in question. “I hate it,” he says, and Seonghwa laughs again.
He takes pity on Hongjoong, changing the subject. “Anything new this week?”
“Nothing but constant worrying about possible action plans in my near future.”
“Aw, you poor thing.”
Hongjoong smiles wryly. “I’m really kind of a wimp, aren’t I?”
“I don’t think so,” Seonghwa says, “but if you are, you’re my favorite wimp.”
“Wow, you’re so romantic. I really lucked out in the husband department.” Hongjoong’s being sarcastic, but Seonghwa can see the sparkle in his eyes, and he reaches across the table to take Hongjoong’s hand, feeling suddenly more supremely happy than he ever has before.
Seonghwa thought Hongjoong had looked unhappy after the first therapy session, but compared to now, he was positively radiant then.
He’s just barely home from his second session, wearing the most comically downcast expression Seonghwa’s ever seen.
“I can’t do this,” he says as soon as he sees Seonghwa.
“She gave you an action plan?” Seonghwa guesses.
Hongjoong doesn’t say anything, just groans and flops into a chair, covering his face with his hands.
Seonghwa watches him uncertainly. “Do you need anything?” he says, voice soft.
Hongjoong drops his hands from his face, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. He sighs heavily, then says, “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Hongjoong shakes his head, standing up. “I have to do it on the phone again.” He groans, walking out of the room, and Seonghwa can hear him muttering, “I can’t do this shit,” as he leaves.
It takes a while for him to call, but eventually Seonghwa’s phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Seonghwa,” says Hongjoong. He sounds miserable.
“Are you okay?”
“My therapist said I needed to talk to you about something. Two things, actually.”
“Okay…”
“First of all, she said I should tell you that the reason I get worried about other people seeing us doing physical things is because I’m not sure you want them to see it. She asked if I had ever asked if you cared about them seeing it, and I said no. So she said I should ask if that’s something I need to worry about.”
Seonghwa blinks. “You’re wondering if you need to worry about how I feel about other people seeing us being in love?”
“I guess so,” Hongjoong says.
“I’m married to you, Joongie. If I wasn’t okay with people thinking I was in love with you, I wouldn’t have married you.”
“Yeah, but physical stuff is different…”
“Not really. I mean, maybe. But it doesn’t feel any different to me. I mean…” Seonghwa closes his eyes, taking a breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m fine with physical stuff, public or otherwise, whatever. Anytime. More than fine. Maybe even thrilled. I can say that clearly more often if that would help.”
Hongjoong makes a noncommittal sound, and Seonghwa smiles. “That might help,” he finally says. “There’s something else I’m supposed to talk to you about, though. Well, my therapist didn’t say I needed to talk to you about it. I decided that on my own.”
“What is it?”
Hongjoong’s voice comes out in a strangled whisper. “My action plan.”
Seonghwa swallows to keep himself from laughing.
“My therapist said…” Hongjoong pauses, probably giving himself a mental pep talk, then continues more confidently. “My therapist said that the best way to stop being scared of bad things happening is to convince my brain that it’s not a big deal if they happen. So, that means the best way to not be bothered by people seeing me do physical stuff is to convince my brain that getting caught isn’t a big deal. She said usually they use exposure therapy for that kind of thing. So, like…I guess she means doing things on purpose that I’m likely to get caught doing, or stuff like that. She says it’s important to train my brain to know what’s actually a danger, and what isn’t really a big deal. Or also to know what’s normal and what isn’t. I guess most people aren’t bothered by being seen kissing someone, since that’s pretty normal. But to me it feels like some huge, crazy thing. So I have to learn not to be embarrassed, so that I can live more healthily. You know?”
Seonghwa nods slowly, even though Hongjoong can’t see him. “I think I get what you’re saying…but what does this have to do with an action plan?”
“The exposure therapy. I need your help with it…if you’re okay with it. I’m supposed to do things even when I’m scared, to prove to myself that they’ll be okay. Things like…” Hongjoong pauses, taking a deep breath. “Things like kissing in public. Or cuddling in a room with an open window.” Seonghwa can feel his blush through the phone.
“Your therapist told you to kiss me in public?”
“No,” Hongjoong says, barely audible. “She just said to try a few things this week that I wouldn’t normally do, but that would be safe. I figured out the specifics on my own.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Will you…”
“I’d love to help you with that, Joongie,” Seonghwa says, smiling. “Am I allowed to see you now or is there more you have to say on the phone?”
“I’m coming out,” says Hongjoong, and Seonghwa can hear his voice down the hallway as well as over the phone.
“Wait, you’re gay?”
“Shut up.” Hongjoong hangs up and walks back into the library, rolling his eyes.
Hongjoong tells Seonghwa not to let him get drunk at Mario Kart night, because the action plan would be too easy if he did. No performance-enhancing drugs allowed.
They map out their game plan ahead of time. Mostly hand-holding and hugs, things they might do anyway. One kiss. Seonghwa will take the lead, initiating everything. This will eliminate Hongjoong’s worries about Seonghwa’s comfort, leaving only the embarrassment to deal with. They won’t stay the night this time, in order to avoid as many sexual jokes as possible. They’re starting out small.
Seonghwa times the kiss remarkably well, if he does say so himself. When the pizza arrives, with only Yeosang and Mingi looking. Neither of them reacts with more than a small smile. The kiss is short, just enough to let it register in Hongjoong’s mind that it’s happening. He holds Seonghwa’s hand tighter afterward, which he usually does when he’s thinking too hard about something, but other than that shows no signs of distress.
They make their exit gracefully, as the first signs of tipsiness in the group are appearing. Wooyoung’s busy making prolonged eye contact with San (in public? really? shameful!), so he doesn’t notice them slipping away, and the others don’t make an issue of it.
As the door closes behind them, Hongjoong lets out a long breath, and Seonghwa smiles down at him.
“So, how do you feel?”
“Alright. That wasn’t too bad. But I know you were protecting me from Wooyoung.”
“Well, we decided to start small.”
Hongjoong nods, saying nothing, and Seonghwa swings their hands between them the rest of the way to the car.
“Hongjoongie…” Seonghwa slips his arms around Hongjoong’s waist as he comes out from the bathroom, all ready for bed. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”
He leans down, pressing a kiss just under Hongjoong’s jaw. Hongjoong mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Seonghwa takes Hongjoong’s face between his hands, just studying it.
“I said you’re even prettier.”
Seonghwa moves his hands back and forth, so Hongjoong’s shaking his head.
“No,” he says, “it’s not a competition, silly.”
Hongjoong smiles, his eyes going soft. Seonghwa loves when he looks like that. Hongjoong reaches up and lays his hands on Seonghwa’s cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. He lets a hand drag down Seonghwa’s neck, down his chest and stomach, landing on his waist.
“Seonghwa,” he murmurs.
“Hmm?”
“Your birthday’s in two weeks.”
“Mm-hm.”
“What do you want to do for it?” Hongjoong’s hand slips up under Seonghwa’s shirt, ever so gently.
“I don’t know, baby.” Seonghwa feels like melting. “I don’t know.”
Hongjoong’s fingers are gliding up toward Seonghwa’s chest. “We never had a honeymoon,” he says softly. Seonghwa feels heat creeping up his chest after Hongjoong’s fingers.
“No, we didn’t.”
Rude of Hongjoong to be bringing up honeymoons while being so incredibly sexy. His eyes are teasing, almost sharp.
“Hmm…” he says, and then he’s kissing Seonghwa again, one hand on his chest, the other behind his neck, pulling him closer.
“Hongjoongie,” Seonghwa whines into the kiss, and Hongjoong smiles.
“What is it?” he says.
“I don’t know…I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Hongjoong pulls away slowly, then walks over to the window, checking the curtains to make sure they’re shut. He walks to the door and locks it, turns off the lights. It’s dim but not too dark, a bit of evening light glowing through the curtains. Hongjoong walks to the bed and sits down.
Seonghwa shuts his brain off, so he won’t get too excited about whatever’s going on.
“Thanks for helping me at Mario Kart night. I know I wanted to go to therapy so you wouldn’t have to solve my problems for me, but here you are, having to solve them anyway.”
“Well, I don’t want anyone else to kiss you,” Seonghwa says, laughing softly. He can’t look away from Hongjoong’s eyes. Still teasing, but also serious—and almost afraid, but not quite.
Hongjoong laughs. “I don’t want anyone else to kiss me either, that’s why it has to be you. And…will you help me some more?”
Seonghwa nods, swallowing. “What do you need?”
Hongjoong says nothing, just beckons him over. Seonghwa feels himself walking over, almost as if he’s in a dream. He sits down on the bed, facing Hongjoong.
“No one can see us,” Hongjoong says quietly, and his eyes have lost their teasing glint, “but I still think someone will. I still feel like the world’s going to fall apart if we do anything.”
Seonghwa doesn’t say anything, just watches Hongjoong.
“I need to prove that it won’t. I’m scared, though.”
“What do you want me to do?” Seonghwa whispers, and Hongjoong shrugs. Seonghwa reaches forward, taking one of his hands and squeezing it. He scoots closer to Hongjoong. First things first: let Hongjoong know Seonghwa’s comfortable being touched. “I liked what you were doing earlier,” he says. “Touching my chest.” Damn. That wasn’t very eloquent. But there’s no good words for this kind of thing. Oh well. He smiles. “I love it when you do that.”
Hongjoong’s face is bright red, but he nods.
“What if I took my shirt off?” Seonghwa says, keeping his voice soft and calm.
Hongjoong swallows a few times. Nods again.
Seonghwa pulls his shirt over his head—so gently, so slowly. Sets it down next to him on the bed, then looks at Hongjoong. Hongjoong’s eyes are squeezed shut, head lowered.
“Will you look at me?” Seonghwa says softly, putting a hand under Hongjoong’s chin to lift his face gently. “I want to know if you think I’m pretty.”
Hongjoong opens his eyes painstakingly slowly. He looks first at Seonghwa’s face, but he’s able to drag his eyes down to Seonghwa’s chest, and Seonghwa feels a little bubble of pleasure at the obvious admiration in them.
Hongjoong swallows. “Of course you’re pretty,” he says, voice coming out low and halting. His eyes drop down along the rest of Seonghwa’s torso.
“Will you touch me?” Seonghwa whispers. “I want you to touch me. If that’s okay. And then we won’t do anything else.”
Hongjoong scoots a bit closer. Lays a hand on Seonghwa’s bare chest, then closes his eyes. He lets his hands wander along Seonghwa’s skin, and Seonghwa watches, biting his lip to keep from making any noise—breathing too hard, or anything at all. Hongjoong’s fingers are warm and soft, and Seonghwa’s skin tingles wherever they touch. He counts in his mind to regulate his breathing. Now is not the time to get hard.
Finally, Hongjoong drags his hands up Seonghwa’s chest, up his neck, bringing them to a rest on Seonghwa’s cheeks. He opens his eyes then, and Seonghwa startles at the look of abject terror in them.
“Are you alright?” he says, wrapping Hongjoong up in his arms and pulling him close. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Hongjoong says, after a long silence. “I was just anxious. I’m alright.”
“Are you sure?”
Hongjoong nods against Seonghwa’s shoulder, and Seonghwa remembers that he’s not wearing a shirt. Holding Hongjoong hostage against his naked torso. Probably not wise. He lets go of him abruptly, scooting back to give him space.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have hugged you without a shirt on, I should have…”
“No,” Hongjoong says, and his voice is calmer now than it was before. “It’s alright.”
Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “Okay. Are you ready for bed, then?”
Hongjoong blinks. “That’s not fair, is it?” He blushes again, but keeps going. “I don’t know much about it, but if one person takes off their shirt, isn’t the other person supposed to, too?”
“There’s no rules about it,” Seonghwa says, firmly reprimanding his mind for the image it keeps trying to create of Hongjoong without a shirt. “This was just fine.”
“Oh. You don’t want me to take off my shirt or…anything?”
Seonghwa takes a breath. Good Lord. “Joongie, of course I want you to take off your shirt. But only if you want to.”
“I want it to be fair,” says Hongjoong, moving to take his shirt off. His face is bright red again. Sometimes Seonghwa misses their earlier days of constant blushing, so he’s glad things like this happen.
Hongjoong freezes with his hands on the hem of his shirt.
“What’s wrong, Joongie?”
He hangs his head. Whispers, “I can’t do it.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“No, I mean I can’t do it with you watching.” He takes a deep breath. “As long as you want me to do this, I do want to do it. And it’s not just because you want me to. Okay?”
Seonghwa nods wordlessly.
“Will you turn around?” Hongjoong asks, and Seonghwa starts to, then turns back quickly, before Hongjoong has time to start removing his shirt. Hongjoong looks at him questioningly.
“What if I take it off for you? Will that be alright?”
Hongjoong nods slowly. Seonghwa brings his hands to his waist, taking hold of the hem of his shirt gently.
“Are you ready?” he whispers, and Hongjoong nods again, squeezing his eyes shut. Seonghwa drags the shirt up, carefully, taking care to touch Hongjoong’s skin as little as possible. He pulls it over Hongjoong’s head, Hongjoong lifting his arms to make it easier, and tosses it to the side. Hongjoong doesn’t open his eyes, his face burning up.
“Are you okay?” Seonghwa murmurs, putting a hand on his knee. “You can put it back on if you want…”
It takes what appears to be a violent struggle on Hongjoong’s part for him to get his next words out. “Do you like it?” he mumbles.
Seonghwa had been avoiding looking down until now, just in case Hongjoong opened his eyes and saw him looking—in order to keep Hongjoong comfortable. But, since Hongjoong asked, he lets his eyes drift downward.
What is this, heaven and hell at the same time? He’s seeing his husband of almost a year shirtless for the first time. On the one hand, he didn’t fully expect this to actually happen. Ever. On the other hand, it’s like being edged for months. Just by feeling his husband’s chest. Now seeing his husband’s chest.
“I like it a lot,” he breathes out, because Hongjoong asked, and Hongjoong’s waiting. He feels stupid. He’s not sure how to give Hongjoong a genuine reaction while still being sure to stay casual—always making sure not to make too big of a deal out of anything. But he wants to make a big deal out of Hongjoong, because Hongjoong is a big deal. He can’t feel okay just saying he likes it. “Hongjoongie,” he says softly.
“Hmm?”
“You asked me not to make a big deal out of things because it embarrasses you. But I want to make a big deal out of you, because I love you. Not because I’m judging you. How do you want me to handle that?”
“What kind of a big deal?” Hongjoong whispers.
“Like…” Seonghwa lets his eyes slide down to Hongjoong’s abdomen. “Like I want to lose my mind over you and how you look, and curse and probably pass out, even though I know that’s your job…”
Hongjoong isn’t too overwhelmed to open his eyes and pin a scorching glare on Seonghwa, and Seonghwa grins.
“…and really I want to kiss you all over—but I won’t because we’re not quite there yet—and I want to just babble. You know what I’m saying?”
There’s a little smile on Hongjoong’s face. “Not really,” he says, “but I like that you’re saying it.”
“So I can make a big deal out of you if it’s like that?”
Hongjoong flushes again, nodding. “You can…” he takes a breath, closing his eyes again. “You can kiss me too.” His voice gets quiet, Seonghwa straining to hear him say, “All over. Or whatever…”
Seonghwa’s eyes widen. He takes a deep, calming breath. “You’re ready for that?” he whispers.
“I think if you do it, I can handle it. But I can’t do it to you…I’m sorry.”
“No, no no no no no…” Seonghwa waves his hands, even though Hongjoong can’t see him. “Don’t say sorry! I just want to kiss you. Is that alright?”
Hongjoong nods, and Seonghwa closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and giving himself a pep talk.
You can do this, Park Seonghwa.
You can handle this.
You’re not going to get hard from kissing your husband.
False, since he can already feel himself filling out in his jeans.
Well. You’re not going to cum in your pants just from kissing your husband.
It’s not just kissing his husband, though he’s not convinced he couldn’t cum in his pants just from that. He’s about to kiss Hongjoong’s gorgeous, tan, naked chest.
If you cum in your pants just from kissing your husband’s gorgeous, tan, naked chest, you can at least be quiet about it.
This is true.
He opens his eyes, meeting Hongjoong’s wide ones.
“Alright, baby,” he says, scooting closer and gently pushing on Hongjoong’s shoulders, guiding him to lay down. “Are you ready? Is this alright?”
Hongjoong nods, and Seonghwa hovers over him for a bit, hypnotized by the dip of his collarbone, the soft rising and falling of his chest with his breath.
Seonghwa swallows the spit pooling in his mouth, blinking quickly.
“Do you not want to do this?” Hongjoong murmurs. “You don’t have to.”
“No,” Seonghwa says, more vehemently than he meant to. He clears his throat. “Sorry. No, I do want to do this.”
Might as well just take the plunge, he figures. No point in worrying Hongjoong any more.
He lowers his head, pressing his lips softly to the base of Hongjoong’s throat, dragging them down his chest—to his stomach. Damn it. Hongjoong’s skin is so warm, so soft, so… Hongjoongy. Seonghwa’s doomed.
This is your own fault, Seonghwa, he tells himself. You knew he’d put you in this state from the first time you saw him. If you didn’t think you could handle it, you shouldn’t have married him. Besides, don’t try to pretend you’re not exactly where you want to be.
He sighs against Hongjoong’s skin, feeling him shift slightly beneath him—forces himself to relax. He’s wanted this for forever. Why put it off longer? He starts to kiss along Hongjoong’s stomach, taking his time, exploring the perfect work of art that is his husband. Damn. He’s lucky. He looks up, catching Hongjoong’s eyes. There’s that look in them, the one he gets when he’s drunk, or when he’s “focused”. Is he…turned on? Little fireworks go off in Seonghwa’s brain. He feels a little light-headed.
“Hey,” he says, and his voice comes out higher than normal. Hongjoong sucks in a breath; Seonghwa can feel his chest jerk beneath him. “I love you,” Seonghwa finishes, watching for Hongjoong’s reaction.
“Fuck,” mumbles Hongjoong, voice rough, and Seonghwa nearly moans just at the sound of it. He’s suddenly acutely aware of just how horny he is. His cock is fully hard, throbbing in his pants, pressed tightly against Hongjoong’s thigh. Hongjoong’s own dick is half-hard—Seonghwa can feel it digging into his stomach.
One of Hongjoong’s hands slides along Seonghwa’s arm, up to his shoulder, his neck, into his hair, tugging lightly.
Seonghwa does moan then, which is upsetting. He hasn’t even cummed in his pants yet, and he’s already not being quiet.
Hongjoong’s breaths come out quick and ragged. He curses again, and Seonghwa drops his head to kiss the subtle, firm swell of Hongjoong’s chest. If his mouth is open just a bit, if his tongue slides slightly along the skin, well, sue him. And then just a ghost of his lips against Hongjoong’s nipple.
Hongjoong’s hands tighten in Seonghwa’s hair, and he takes a shaky breath. “Seonghwa.” The name comes out strangled.
“Hmm?” Seonghwa feels like he’s speaking and moving through honey, slow and golden and sweet. Or maybe that’s just Hongjoong’s skin, filling up his brain.
“I…I…”
Seonghwa forces his mind to come to focus, lifting himself up on his arms to look down at Hongjoong.
“Joongie,” he says, soft and fond, “what do you need?”
Hongjoong closes his eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t…” He opens his eyes, and Seonghwa can see the conflict in them.
Seonghwa smiles. “Should we be done for tonight?”
Hongjoong lets out a relieved sigh, nodding, and Seonghwa rolls over onto his back next to him, lacing their fingers together between them.
“Tomorrow I want to go to the flower fields,” he says, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore his cock throbbing. Wow. How romantic.
“Me too,” Hongjoong murmurs, and Seonghwa turns to kiss him goodnight, only to find him staring at the tented area at Seonghwa’s crotch. Well, shit.
“Sorry,” Seonghwa mumbles, flushing.
“What?” Hongjoong’s eyes snap up to Seonghwa’s face, and he blushes in turn. “No, it’s okay. I’m just…” He closes his eyes, putting his free hand over them. “Are you alright? Do you need to…” (Seonghwa feels a little bad for finding his full-body cringe adorable) “…do something about it?”
Seonghwa breathes out slowly, so as not to laugh at all. Hongjoong’s so lovely. “I’ll be okay, it’ll go away eventually.”
Hongjoong opens his eyes again, looking over at Seonghwa, eyebrows scrunching together. “That won’t…that won’t feel very good, will it?”
Seonghwa shrugs.
“Come on, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, just the slightest whine in his voice, and Seonghwa smiles wryly.
“It won’t be amazing,” he admits, and Hongjoong breathes out an awkward laugh, staring up (and away from Seonghwa).
“You know you can do whatever you need to take care of yourself, right? While I figure my shit out?” He says it hurriedly, not looking away from the ceiling.
Seonghwa looks at Hongjoong carefully. “Even if…” He’s been conflicted within himself about this for a while. Hongjoong’s not going to like it, but the question should probably be asked at some point. “Even if I have to think about you to do it?”
Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut, face screwing up. “Oh my god, Seonghwa, do whatever you want, I don’t fucking care, just don’t say anything else to me about it.”
Seonghwa laughs softly. “Sorry,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss to Hongjoong’s temple before climbing out of bed and shuffling over to the bathroom.
God, he loves him.