Chapter Text
“Gihun?” Inho’s voice sounded worried and surprised. He picked up the phone so fast Gihun didn’t even have a chance to change his mind and hang up.
He breathed in shakily, the words stuck in his throat.
“Gihun? Are you here? Did something happen?” Inho asked again, his voice becoming more worried with each sentence.
Gihun squinched his eyes, unable to utter a word. Deep down, he didn’t believe that Inho would answer and hadn’t even thought about what he wanted to say, an urge to call being an instinct. He opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he say? He just couldn’t admit to Inho that he had gambled again, throwing away his progress. He pressed the phone against his ear harder and squatted, his knees too weak to hold him upright.
“Gihun? Gihun-ah, why are you calling?” Gihun’s head started throbbing. He had to say something, at least something. Inho would hang up and never call again. He had to—
“Are you at racetracks again, Gihun-ah?” Inho asked after a pause, his voice quiet and low.
It made Gihun gasp, and he nodded, pulled out from his stupor. “I—” he squeezed out, realising that Inho couldn’t see him. His voice sounded small and hoarse, and he coughed, clearing his throat. “Seoul Race Park,” he whispered, unable to say more.
Inho fell silent for a second. “Understood. I’ll be there shortly,” he instructed and ended the call, leaving Gihun to sit in silence.
He finally managed to breathe in fully, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen. A realisation of what he had just done settled, and Gihun couldn’t help but shiver. So he happened to be the one to reach out and make the first move. He bit his lip hard, fighting an initial urge to stand up and leave as he wasn’t sure he would be able to face Inho in this state.
Gihun shook his head. No. It was time to finally meet Inho and talk. They should have done it two years ago.
The cold wind gusted over him, and Gihun shivered, suddenly cold. Goosebumps ran down his spine, and he stood up slowly, pulling the sleeves of his jacket down.
A sudden realisation struck him. It wasn’t actually his jacket. He was wearing Inho’s jacket. The one Inho had given him on the beach in Jeju.
After his return to Seoul, Gihun had put the jacket deep into his closet, telling himself he would give it to Junho once they met. They met eventually with him and Noeul, and Gihun didn’t return it, telling himself that he just forgot. And then he didn’t return it again. And again. And again. And as the weather grew colder, he found himself reaching for it more and more often. The scent of Inho’s perfume was long gone, and still, Gihun felt as if he could smell it if he tried hard enough. The jacket brought him comfort, and he couldn’t deny himself wearing it.
Gihun sighed. It was no use trying to figure out what to do with the jacket now. Maybe that was how he had to return it, after all. He wrapped himself in the rough fabric tighter and moved to sit on the curb, his knees protesting against squatting.
The stadium erupted with the screams again, and Gihun winced, lowering his gaze. The aftershocks of what he had done still ran through him, making his heart beat faster. Hundreds of excuses swirled in his mind. Gihun shook his head. It didn’t matter. No amount of stress or exhaustion should have led him here. He should have been stronger. He thought he was stronger.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, looking at the distance.
The sound of tires squealing made him jolt and look up. The car Gihun didn’t know braked abruptly, and Inho got out of it, slamming the door with a loud thud. Gihun’s breathing hitched. He watched Inho look around rapidly until his gaze settled on Gihun. His face wore a troubled expression, and he visibly breathed out as he saw Gihun sitting.
He walked closer, his steps quick and heavy. “Gihun! Are you alright?”
The disheveled look he wore and the tangible concern in his voice caught Gihun off-guard. The way Inho stared at him made Gihun’s eyes burn, and he looked down, unable to hold Inho’s gaze. His throat tightened, and with horror, he realised he started crying, the tears running down his cheeks silently.
He heard Inho stop in front of him, looming over, his presence too real, too sensible to ignore. And then, he squatted in front of him, his body close enough for Gihun to smell his perfume. A desire to lean forward and put his face in the crook of Inho’s neck flooded his body. Gihun held it back as he swallowed hard and lowered his head even more, still unable to meet Inho’s gaze.
He feared he would see disappointment there. He expected to see disappointment there.
They sat like that for a moment, neither of them moving or daring to break the silence. And then Gihun felt Inho’s hands landing on his shoulders, squeezing them slightly in an attempt to ground him. His body moved against his will, and Gihun leaned closer, pressing his forehead against Inho’s chest a little lower than his collarbone. He breathed in snakily. Inho’s body felt warm even though he wore just a thin blazer over his crisp white shirt and must have been cold under the autumn wind. Inho’s fingers on his shoulders twitched slightly, but he didn’t back off. Gihun wanted to feel his touch in his hair, to feel his hands pulling his locks on the back of his head — just like Inho had used to do all the time.
Unfortunately, Inho couldn’t read his mind, and Gihun couldn’t voice his wishes out loud. Instead, Inho whispered, “Gihun. Look at me. Please.”
His voice sent vibrations through his chest. Gihun wished he could push Inho back and lay his head on his chest, crumpling his pristine white shirt, listening to him speaking about something — anything.
Inho’s tone wasn’t strict or demanding. He was asking patiently, not pressing. Gihun complied without hesitation. Slowly, he raised his head and opened his eyes.
Inho’s face was inches from his own. He looked at Gihun closely, not a hint of disappointment in his eyes. Instead, he stared at Gihun with worry and panic, his cheeks flushed, his lips trembling slightly.
“Did you come straight from your office?” Gihun murmured, looking over his figure, wrapped in another perfectly fitted suit.
Inho’s eyes widened slightly, the worry leaving his gaze, and he huffed. “It’s the only thing you want to ask me?”
“Why didn’t you call?” The question left his lips before Gihun was able to process it. He winced, ashamed at how pathetic his voice sounded, but forced himself to keep an eye contact, catching every twitch of muscle on Inho’s face.
The question seemed to catch Inho off guard as his lips parted slightly, and he flushed and lowered his gaze. His hands still lay on Gihun’s shoulders, and for a second, Gihun thought that he would stand up, pulling away, leaving him on the ground.
“Did— did you want me to call?” Inho finally murmured, his voice quiet and hesitant. Too hesitant for a person who wanted to kiss him just a few months earlier.
Gihun raised his eyebrows, confused by Inho’s reaction. “Of course, I did want you to call? Why are you asking me that?”
Inho’s lips quivered, and he looked at him as if Gihun had just hit him.
“Did— did you think I didn’t want to talk to you?” Gihun asked him.
The subtle, almost invincible nod Inho gave him made Gihun purse his lips. He barely managed to hold back a scoff that threatened to leave his mouth and pushed his bangs from his forehead as he tilted his head back, looking at the sky. It was dark already, the day coming to an end. They fell silent. Another race ended, and people inside the stadium yelled and whined. The sounds made Gihun’s chest tighten again, and he sprang to his feet, pushing Inho’s hands away. Inho swayed, almost falling backwards, and looked at him with big, wide eyes, full of confusion and hurt.
Gihun pulled the cigarette out of the pack and put it in his mouth in an abrupt movement. An anger boiled deep inside him. How could Inho be so stupid! He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but surely not a quiet hesitation in Inho’s gaze. He had to be the confident one. He must have known that Gihun would welcome him back instantly if he had just called.
In their relationship, it was Gihun who was supposed to be the pathetic one.
His finger fell off the lighter wheel once again, and Gihun swore loudly. “Fuck!” He squinted and froze, trying to catch his breath and calm down. He gritted his teeth, biting the cigarette filter, almost snapping it in half. The amount of mental turmoil he had gone through… And Inho had thought all the time that if he called, Gihun wouldn’t have answered. It was ridiculous. Truly unbelievable. How could Inho be so dumb…
Inho stood before him and carefully took the lighter from his trembling fingers. Gihun watched him light the fire and bring it to the tip of his cigarette. He inhaled, the nicotine hitting just right.
“May I ask for one?” Inho said quietly and pointed his chin at the pack in Gihun’s hand.
Without saying a word, Gihun handed him a pack, and in a few seconds, Inho puffed on his cigarette too and breathed the smoke out in the sky. He didn’t cough or wheeze, and Gihun raised his brows, surprised.
“Did you finally learn how to smoke normally?” He still felt anger boil deep inside him, and the question turned out to be more sarcastic than he had intended.
Inho just shrugged, not bothered by his tone, and murmured, “You may say so.”
They stood next to each other and smoked in silence, their shoulders brushing every time one of them moved. The initial wave of anger dissipated slowly, and Gihun glanced at Inho out of the corner of his eye. He looked tired, too tired as if he hadn’t rested for a long time. His usual facade fell off, and Inho slouched, his spine unfamiliarly hunched. Gihun felt a tug in his stomach and lowered his gaze, ashamed by his outburst.
For the first time since their fight, the thought that Inho might have been struggling too crossed his mind.
The cigarette went out in his fingers, and he rocked from heel to toe, trying to come with appropriate words. The silence between them wasn’t really uncomfortable, and still, Gihun wished he could break it. He wished he could just ask Inho all the questions that tortured him for years now.
Inho finished smoking too and turned to Gihun. “I think we have to talk, Gihun-ssi. We may go to my flat, or I will drive you home, if you have other plans.”
Gihun looked at him carefully and breathed, “We— We really need to. Let’s go to your place and talk.”
Inho nodded and extended his arm, inviting Gihun to sit in the car. It was a new one, Gihun hadn’t seen it before. He hesitated for a second before climbing into the front seat and buckling his seatbelt. The salon smelled of new and expensive leather, and Gihun breathed in deeply. It still felt foreign to let Inho drive as he knew perfectly Inho hated to do so. A smile touched his lips as he remembered the day he drove Inho back from the waterfall.
“Where’s your old car?” he asked, running his fingers over a shiny panel.
“In Jeju. I moved it there once I got a new one,” Inho said as he got in and stuck his phone to a magnet, looking over the screen briefly. Gihun grimaced at the amount of messages that kept popping up. He glanced at his watch. The time on display showed that Inho’s workday would have ended only in an hour, so he must have left earlier. Because Gihun called. The thought filled his chest with warmth, and Gihun leaned back in his seat as Inho started the engine and the car set in motion smoothly.
They sat without speaking, but this silence felt different from the one they shared in the car in Jeju. Gihun didn't feel as if he was sitting next to a stranger he had once known. Instead, he kept glancing at Inho’s direction. The man looked straight ahead, his brows knitted on his forehead as he squeezed the steering wheel. Gihun smiled with the corner of his lips. Inho had always been the lover of the rules and kept lecturing Gihun on how he couldn’t just drive using one hand instead of two.
The road ahead turned familiar, and Gihun squirmed in his seat. They were getting closer, and with each passing mile, a knot in his stomach tightened harder. It wasn’t like he feared Inho or didn’t want to talk— He just wasn’t sure where this conversation would lead them to.
“Did you manage to place a bet, by the way?” Inho asked suddenly, still focused on the road.
Gihun tensed in his seat and sighed. He had almost forgotten the reason he had called Inho, breaking no contact between them. He did manage to place his bet, and the guilt returned to him full-force, making him wince and squirm in his seat. “I did,” he muttered and looked up, waiting for Inho’s reaction. There was none. He just nodded, his face blank. Once again, it made Gihun feel worse than if Inho snapped on him or started lecturing. He pressed his lips together and picked on his nails.
“I— I didn’t know how it happened,” Gihun admitted quietly, feeling the need to explain himself. “One moment, I got out of work, and the other, I stood inside with a betting form in my hand.”
Inho didn’t say anything for a moment before muttering quietly, “Did you gamble when—” He trailed off, trying to come up with the right word. “When we didn’t talk?”
Gihun shook his head. “No. It’s the first time since we broke up.”
He chose the words deliberately, and Inho grimaced without averting his gaze from the road.
“Don’t let this situation define your life, Gihun-ssi,” he said firmly. “Move on and just start over. You don’t have to gamble again, if you slipped once. You see what I mean?”
Gihun picked on his nails so hard he drew blood. A lump blocked his throat, and he shook his head. “I— I should have known better—”
Inho’s phone rang, making him stop mid-sentence. His eyes flickered up, and he froze before casting a glance in Inho’s direction. Mr.Hwang was calling him.
Inho’s jaw twitched. “I’m sorry. Do you mind if I answer?”
“Yeah, sure,” Gihun waved his hands and leaned back in his seat, putting his hurt finger in his mouth.
“Yes?” Inho put his phone on speaker and answered, his tone firm and controlling — a complete opposite to the one he had just used.
“Inho! Where are you?” It was clear that Mr.Hwang tried to hold back, but the anger seeped to his tone. Gihun tensed and looked out of the window, trying to tune their conversation out.
“I had an urgent matter and had to leave. Did something happen?”
“You ask me if something happened? We have a shareholders meeting tomorrow, and you just leave before your workday ends?”
His tone made Gihun wince as if he was a target for Mr.Hwang’s displeasure. He had always been slightly afraid of him. The way Mr.Hwang spoke and carried himself screamed power and control, and Gihun had always felt tense around people like that, their energy making him small and insignificant.
Inho didn’t seem bothered at all. “Everything is ready for a meeting,” he said. “I left all the reports and files on your table. I’ll come earlier tomorrow and go over the presentation and my speech again.”
The silence fell for several moments before Mr.Hwang huffed offendedly. “What matter was that urgent, son?”
An annoyance cut through Inho’s professionalism as he snapped, this time, sounding exactly like his father, “It’s not your business, dad. See you tomorrow,” before ending the call.
The tension in the car was palpable. Gihun watched Inho tilt his head left and right, his jaw twitching slightly.
“Do— do you have to come back? To the office?” Gihun asked carefully. “You didn’t have to—”
“Bullshit, Gihun!” Inho blurted out, his knuckles turning white at how hard he gripped the steering wheel. Gihun jerked in his seat, slouching more. “I’m sorry,” Inho added almost immediately and shot him an apologetic glance. “He just wants to control me, as always. Don’t worry. He’ll live.”
Gihun nodded. He didn’t know why Inho and his father seemed to despise each other but still continued to work together with dedication. Inho had never told him, and Gihun had been considerate enough to stay away from his family relationships.
“Almost there,” Inho noted before turning right and pulling into his parking lot smoothly. Gihun’s heart skipped a beat as he got outside and looked around. Nothing changed. The apartment complex still looked as luxurious as before, looming over him impressively, pinning him to the ground. They went inside, and Gihun grinned — the same security guy sat behind the desk.
“Do you think he remembers me?” he asked Inho and chuckled, nodding towards the guy. He didn’t grant him a second glance, and Gihun sighed. “Well, I guess he doesn’t.”
“Do you want a drink?” Inho dropped his keys on the shelf in the hallway and turned around, facing Gihun.
He shook his head. “Just tea.”
They both took their shoes off. Inho went into the kitchen, turning the kettle on, and Gihun paused, holding Inho’s jacket in his hands. With a sigh, he hung it next to the other Inho’s outwear, and followed his steps. He lowered himself on the chair carefully. Inho’s place looked even more desolated than before, and he didn’t know it was physically possible. The counter looked sad and empty, and when Inho opened the shelf to collect some tea, Gihun saw that there wasn't almost anything inside — a complete opposite to when Gihun used to be a frequent guest in this house. Inho returned to his basic way of living, owning next to nothing.
They were silent while Inho was making tea and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Gihun pursed his lips, looking at a familiar bottle with a 51% mark on its side.
Inho looked almost sorry as he placed a teacup on the table and grabbed his own glass, sitting opposite Gihun.
It felt awkward. Gihun grabbed the cap just to put his hands anywhere, the silence between them so perfect Gihun could hear distant sounds of cars passing by. He lowered his gaze and huffed soundlessly. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
He had so much in mind, so many things he wanted to clear, and still, no words came to his brain as Inho sat opposite of him, swirling whiskey in his glass, ice cubes hitting the glass walls quietly, and also not saying anything.
It seemed that if Gihun wanted to get at least something out of Inho, he had to start himself.
He raised his head.
“Inho, I—”
“Gihun—”
They both started at the same time. Gihun faltered. He couldn’t help but snort looking at Inho’s confused expression. What was the possibility that he would decide to speak at the same time?
“Please, say what you wanted,” Inho muttered and sipped his whiskey.
He composed himself, and his face looked perfectly blank again, completely unreadable. He didn’t flinch as he swallowed the liquor. Gihun winced, imagining the taste involuntarily.
Gihun had to turn the tables. It didn’t seem like their conversation would work out like that, both of them too hesitant and afraid to make a first step. So Gihun tilted his head and uttered quietly, “Did you want to kiss me in the summerhouse?”
It wasn’t the thing he planned to ask initially. Instead, he went bolder. Now, his goal was to confuse Inho. To make him drop his usual act he was still clinging to. Inho’s mouth opened a little, the tips of his ears turning red. It made Gihun smile, and he leaned on the table, feeling a surge of confidence as he raised his eyebrows slightly. “So did you?”
“Do you think I wanted to?” Inho muttered and sipped his whiskey again, his piercing gaze threatening to make a hole into Gihun’s nose bridge.
“I think you did.”
Inho pulled the collar of his shirt and rubbed the back of his neck, not breaking eye contact. Gihun smiled wider. He loved the way the slightest hint of a flirt in his tone had always made Inho lose his cool. To add to his state, he rose to his feet slowly and walked around the table. Inho’s eyes followed his every move, flickering up and down his body in constant movement.
Gihun leaned over, bringing their faces closer. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears. Inho’s pupils dilated slightly, and he licked his lips. Gihun could smell whiskey on him, but somehow, it didn’t turn him off. Instead, he moved even closer, their noses almost brushing, and pressed his lips against Inho’s in a quick, chaste movement.
Inho gasped, opening his mouth, giving Gihun an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Gihun felt his cheeks burning as he ran his tongue over Inho’s upper lip and sucked on it, eliciting a quiet whimper out of him. The bloodrush in his ears was so loud he couldn’t hear almost anything, his world shrunken to the size of Inho’s lips, his smell, his laboured breathing.
He missed this feeling so much. Inho’s lips moved skillfully against his own, knowing every curve of his mouth, every inch of his skin. The glass hit the table with a quiet thud, spilling whiskey, leaving both of Inho’s hands free, and he gripped the hair on the back of Gihun’s head and pulled him even closer, making him lose his balance and fall on his lap.
Gihun gasped and grabbed Inho’s shoulders, trying to steady himself. Inho’s hands were on his waist immediately, crumpling his shirt, stroking, squeezing, holding, bringing Gihun closer, leaving no space between their bodies. Inho took over the kiss completely, tilting Gihun’s head how he wanted, molding him into a perfect position to go deeper, faster, wetter.
Inho kissed him like he owned him.
Gihun whined as he felt his blood rushing down, towards his groin. The pressure in his pants started to feel unbearable, and he rocked his pelvis, trying to rub against Inho’s thighs. He was hard too but didn’t rush to do anything about that, exploring Gihun’s mouth instead, making him pant and try to match his pace. Inho yanked his head back, making them break the kiss, the thread of saliva stretching between their mouths.
Gihun whined at the loss of contact and snapped his eyes open.
Inho was staring at him with his crazy eyes, not blinking for a second. His collar was torn open, revealing his strong, flushed neck and collarbones, his lips red and swollen, saliva smeared across his chin. Gihun chuckled and wiped it off with his finger before cupping his face. Inho leaned into his touch and kissed his palm, nuzzling into it gently.
Gihun's breath hitched as Inho looked up and smiled at him fondly.
“I really wanted to kiss you in that summerhouse,” he whispered and planted a soft kiss on Gihun’s palm again, making Gihun blush. “I had to run after you and kiss you there. I had to call you. I had to stop you two years ago. I should have never left you.” His voice went out, and he fell silent, looking at Gihun with big, watery eyes.
Gihun swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t have run away from you,” he whispered in response and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I wanted to kiss you so bad. I— I just got scared that you won’t kiss me back.”
“We are both fools,” Inho murmured before pressing his lips against Gihun’s cheek. He opened his lips and left a wet kiss, making Gihun gasp and squeeze his shoulders tighter. He felt another wave of arousal starting to build inside him and whispered, not wanting to lose an opportunity to ask Inho a thing that had been on his mind for years, “Why— why didn't you stop me? When I left? I saw you watching me out the window,” Gihun whispered and squinted, feeling his eyes burn. Inho froze, his lips still touching Gihun’s cheek lightly. Gihun felt him tense under his touch. Suddenly, a fear flooded him, and he pulled back a little. “You may not answer, I just—”
“I was afraid,” Inho squeezed out, his voice almost inaudible. “First, I was angry at you for— for speaking about my wife— Jiwon.” Gihun’s glance darted towards Inho’s wrist against his will, and he shivered. The watch was there, wrapped around Inho’s arm tightly. Gihun averted his gaze quickly. “And then— Then I was ashamed and afraid.” Inho chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around Gihun’s waist tighter, bringing him close again. “You didn’t see yourself when you spoke. You looked at me as if I was the most disgusting human being in this world.”
No. It wasn’t like that. Gihun opened his mouth to protest, but Inho shook his head, stopping him.
“You were right though. I said vile things, and— and after you left I thought a lot about our argument. I realised I wasn’t right about some things.”
“Only some?” Gihun raised his eyebrows.
“You can’t really deny certain types of people don’t deserve help, Gihun-ah,” Inho fought back, his tone almost apologetic.
Gihun bit his lip, contemplating. Looking Inho into the eyes, he whispered, “Certain types of people… like me?”
He held his breath, watching Inho’s expression intently.
Inho’s eyes widened. “Are you serious now?”
Gihun nodded abruptly, his throat tightened. “You spoke about pathetic people who failed in life. Like me. I don’t deserve your help or sympathy,” he said bitterly. “Which is true. I can’t even quit gambling for life.”
Inho’s gaze hardened, and he pressed his palm to both sides of Gihun’s face. Gihun gasped and tried to pull away, suddenly overwhelmed by the contact. Inho didn’t let him go. “How dare you speak about yourself like that!” Inho hissed, and his nostrils flared, his tone turning genuinely angry.
“Inho—” Gihun tried but was interrupted by Inho’s words immediately.
“You’re so much better than me, Gihun-ah. In every aspect. Look at yourself. You are so full of love you are able to share it with every person you meet. You have so much love inside you were able to share it even with a man like me.” His voice cut off, and Inho swallowed harshly before continuing, “Everyone loves you, Gihun! Your mom, your daughter. Despite your flaws. You have a lot of friends. My brother can’t shut up about you! Even my father admitted that you're a worthy person when you didn’t hesitate to defend me against that old prick. And you think you don’t deserve help or sympathy?”
Gihun froze in his hold, stunned by his words. No one had ever said something like this to him before. Throughout his life, he got used to viewing himself as someone to be ashamed of. Not entering the university, being laid off his job without dismission pay and having a couple of failed businesses, leaving his wife and neglecting his daughter, gambling like there was no tomorrow and not being able to help his own elderly mother — all those things followed him constantly, and as time passed, Gihun grew to deem himself inferior to those who had been more successful in life, to those who had more money, stable career and happiness. He had never been enough for anything, everyone in his circle making sure to remind him of that. He had never been someone to admire, just a person to compare oneself to and feel better at one's life generally. Inho’s words made him sniff, and he realised the tears were running down his cheeks.
Inho wiped them off with his thumbs before continuing, “After you left, I was so afraid that you would be disgusted with me I didn’t even consider calling. I wouldn’t be able to survive you hating me. And don’t deny that in that moment you hated me.”
“Speaking so many smart words, and you're still a fool, Hwang Inho,” Gihun chuckled. “It’s unbelievable."
He pulled Inho’s hands away gently, lying them back on his waist, and tangled his fingers with Inho’s hair, messing the gelled locks up. “I’ve told you that you look better with your bangs down,” he murmured, stroking his hair gently. “I never hated you.”
“Then why didn’t you try to reach out first?” Inho whispered, his thumbs drawing small circles on the small of his back repeatedly.
Gihun sighed and shook his head slightly. “The same reason, honestly. I hurt you. I brought your wife and your child to our fight. I didn’t think you would forgive me. I— I know it’s a very painful topic for you. I just wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
Inho breathed in shakily and looked down for a moment. “Let’s forget it?” he muttered. “I don’t hold a grudge against you.”
With a smile, he leaned forward and kissed Gihun again. This time, his lips moved slower and far more gentler, his touches soft and delicate. Gihun matched his pace, giving Inho all the control. Inho’s lips went lower, towards his jaw and neck, leaving a wet trail on his skin. His fingers toyed with the edge of Gihun’s shirt, and Gihun gasped, moving his head back as Inho’s fingers finally landed on his bare skin. He tightened his grip in Inho’s hair, bringing his face closer.
His legs started becoming numb, hanging down on either side of Inho’s hips, and he squirmed. “Maybe we can move— Ah!”
Inho slid his hands under Gihun’s thighs and stood up rapidly, leaving Gihun to grab his shoulders tightly and wrap his legs around his torso, trying not to lose his balance. He swayed a little, and Gihun yelped, “Inho! What are you doing?”
Inho grinned. “Moving.”
The road to the bedroom was so quick Gihun didn’t even have time to roll his eyes properly. Inho lowered him on the bed gently and loomed over him immediately, kissing his neck again.
Gihun panted, “Is— is this how you— you carried me in Jeju?”
His words made Inho stop, and he looked up, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “So they told you,” he murmured and cocked his eyebrow.
“They did,” Gihun echoed in an equally playful way and raised his hands, playing with the buttons on Inho’s shirt. “They said,” he whispered and released the first button, catching a glimpse of Inho’s tan skin, “you carried me, and you,” another button was free, “stared, and you seeked my attention.” The buttons ended, and the shirt fell open, revealing Inho’s toned chest. Gihun ran his fingers over his pecks, pinching his nipple — it made Inho gasp quietly — and finally, pulled the shirt off his shoulders, admiring the sight in front of him. “Were they lying?”
He glanced up, meeting Inho’s gaze.
Inho looked at him in awe, his lips parted and curved in a smile. “Since when you’re so sly, Gihun-ssi?” he murmured and lowered himself on top of Gihun carefully, capturing Gihun’s lips with his own. Gihun gasped, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss. The weight on his body didn’t feel too heavy, and at the same time, it did. He whined, digging his fingers into Inho’s spine, and spread his legs, granting Inho a place to lie.
Inho took this moment to grind forward, bringing their groins together. It made Gihun jolt at the sudden physical contact, and he spread his legs wider. “Inho, I—”
“They told you the truth, Gihun-ah,” Inho murmured into his lips and moved again, the friction making Gihun moan and grab his shoulders harder. His head fell back, and Inho’s lips found his neck immediately, kissing, sucking, leaving marks for sure. The fabric that still separated them was threatening to make Gihun go mad. He squirmed under Inho’s weight and pushed his hand between their bodies, his fingers finding the button on Inho’s trousers almost instantly.
Inho huffed against his neck and caught his hand, pinning it to the mattress. Gihun choked as his weight shifted, knocking the air out of his lungs. Inho shot a quick glance at his face and released his hand, propping himself up on his elbows before he sat back on his knees, still occupying the space between Gihun’s legs.
The press on his chest eased, and Gihun breathed in fully, looking at Inho through eyelashes. A flush spread across his neck and chest, his hair messy and sticking out in different directions — thanks to Gihun’s hard work. Gihun’s eyes darted to the evident bulge on the front of Inho’s pants, and he licked his lips subconsciously. He needed Inho immediately, after all those months, he needed him more than he could have ever been able to express.
Inho caught his glance and grinned. His hands lay on Gihun’s thighs, and he ran them up slowly, crumpling the fabric of Gihun’s pants. Gihun’s breath hitched as his hands moved dangerously close to his crotch — still, without touching. He squirmed again, breathing out, “Touch me— I need—”
Inho’s grin grew wider. He made a show out of unbuckling Gihun’s belt and pulling it out from the belt loops, executing every move deliberately slowly, teasing him, drinking in every muscle twitch on Gihun’s face. Finally, both of their pants were thrown away, and Inho settled between his legs again. Gihun tried to press his legs together, suddenly feeling too exposed under Inho’s piercing gaze. The last two years, he hadn’t had anyone look at him like that, with such a hungry and lustful gaze.
Inho didn’t let him do so as he kissed Gihun’s left knee, then right, making his heart flutter in his chest. His hands lay again on Gihun’s thighs, and Inho ran them down slowly, squeezing the flesh, leaving pink marks. Gihun’s breath quickened. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Inho, afraid that if he did, Inho would disappear like a dream — one of the dreams he had had during these months.
“You’re so beautiful,” Inho whispered, his fingers finally stroking Gihun’s hip bones, his touches light and delicate — a total contrast to the ones before. Gihun’s throat tightened, and he tried to prop himself up on the elbows — to get closer to Inho, to finally touch him, to make sure he was real. Inho stopped him with a glance. “Please, let me make you feel good,” he murmured and leaned in and planted a kiss on the inner side of Gihun’s left thigh. It made him gasp, and Gihun fell back on the mattress, watching Inho with half-closed eyes.
Clearly pleased by his reaction, Inho kissed the same place on his leg again and then, he went lower, placing quick kisses on Gihun’s heated skin. Gihun couldn't help but squirm, desperate to feel Inho’s touch on his achingly hard length. Inho caught his hip bone with his teeth, and Gihun whimpered. His fingers tangled in Inho’s hair, and he gripped it, unable to hold back anymore.
Finally, Inho moved. His lips wrapped around his cockhead, and Gihun couldn’t help but moan loudly. The wet heat around him made him arch his spine a little, and he caught himself just a second before he was ready to push Inho’s head lower, making him take more.
Inho must have sensed his desperation. He looked up, Gihun’s dick still in his mouth, and moved lower, not breaking an eye contact. Gihun blushed violently, gripping the bedsheets with his free hand, his knuckles turning white from the effort. His legs twitched, and Inho squeezed the flesh of his thighs, hollowing his cheeks, moving his head at a quick and steady pace. Gihun whined and turned his head to the side abruptly, squinching his eyes shut. He didn’t think he would last. The last time someone — not someone, Inho — touched him was so long ago he could feel the muscles on his stomach crumping already, his orgasm closer than he would have liked. Inho’s mouth on his dick felt divine, the fit snug and tight, and the way he kept squeezing his legs, his fingers digging into the softness of his thighs, threatened to throw Gihun over the edge.
Panting, Gihun tugged on Inho’s hair, making him look up. With a wet pop, his dick left Inho’s mouth, and Gihun shuddered at the sudden loss of contact.
Inho looked at him, confused, a slight resentment in his eyes. His chin shined wetly, and he licked his lips, wiping the saliva from the corners.
“What’s wrong?”
Gihun breathed in shakily. “I’m— I’m gonna cum soon.”
Inho raised his brows, still confused. “That’s the whole point?”
“I won’t be able to go for the second round,” he admitted quietly and tried to sit up again. “So if you—”
Inho groaned. “Just relax and have fun, Gihun-ah,” he drawled. “It’s all about you today.”
It was the only warning Gihun got before Inho’s lips returned to his cock, and he sucked hard, his tongue going over the slit in his cockhead. Gihun’s elbows buckled, and he fell back on the bed, a loud moan escaping his lips. Inho huffed, sending vibrations around his length, and picked up the pace, going up and down in a fast, steady movement. His hands pinned Gihun’s hips to the mattress, not letting him thrust up, stripping him of any control. Gihun whined, curling his toes, his grip on Inho’s hair so hard he feared it must have hurt. He couldn’t do anything about it, his mind completely blank, all the feelings in his body shutting out except the constant pleasure running through his veins.
Another move of Inho’s head made him gasp. “Inho,” he whispered, trying to warn him.
Inho just squeezed his lips around his dick tighter.
The orgasm that hit Gihun was so powerful the world around him went blank for a moment. He shuddered and arched his back, pushing Inho’s head lower as he cummed into his mouth, shivering, a high-pitched whine escaping his throat.
He snapped his eyes open, looking at Inho. His face was red, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he raised his gaze, locking his eyes with Gihun. Gihun’s breath hitched. Still holding eye contact, Inho swallowed, the move of his throat making Gihun whimper one last time.
Inho let his softening dick go and loomed over Gihun. His face was glistering with sweat and tears, and Gihun wiped them off with his thumbs before bringing Inho closer and pulling him into another kiss. Inho closed his eyes and leaned into his touch, opening his lips up, letting Gihun’s tongue inside his mouth.
Gihun stroked his shoulders, gripping his nape slightly before running his fingers over Inho’s slightly trembling arms. His chest tightened, and he gasped, for a moment overwhelmed by the amount of love he felt for this man. Suddenly, he felt grateful for his weak will and his mind that led him to the racetracks today. If he had withheld and passed by, he would have never called Inho, would have never talked to him — maybe ever again.
Something wet landed on his nose, and Gihun snapped his eyes open, confused.
Inho was crying, his eyes closed, silent tears coating his and Gihun’s cheeks as he continued to kiss him.
Gihun’s heart sank to his stomach, and he pulled back rapidly.
“Are you crying?” he breathed out, his hands flying to Inho’s face immediately, wiping his tears off. Inho averted his gaze, blushing slightly. “What’s wrong, Inho-ya?” Gihun muttered as Inho’s tears didn’t seem to dry off. They kept streaming down his face, landing on Gihun’s chest. Inho didn’t say anything, just breathed in shakily and leaned into Gihun’s touch again, nuzzling against his palm as if trying to hide what he was feeling.
Gihun sat up, pushing Inho back, making him sit on his heels. “What’s wrong, jagiya?” he repeated, his heart hammering against his ribs in a worried motion.
Inho shivered at his words and finally looked up. He sniffed and shook his head. “Nothing wrong, Gihun-ah,” he whispered. “Just— I love you.”
Gihun flinched. His eyes widened, and he froze. He didn’t expect Inho to confess again that casually. Even though it wasn’t the first time he heard those words from him, somehow, it felt like it was special. He chuckled. Two months ago he could swear Inho didn’t care at all. He was a fool.
Inho pursed his lips and leaned back suddenly. “If you don’t feel the same way—”
Gihun rolled his eyes and just kissed him. After a moment of hesitation, Inho kissed him back. Gihun ran his tongue over his lower lip and moved closer, his hand finding its way between their bodies. Inho was still hard, his dick red and leaking precum, and Gihun squeezed him hard — just the way Inho had always loved — before moving his hand down immediately, setting up a quick and hard pace. Inho gasped and broke the kiss, his eyes squinched, his lips parted. Gihun nuzzled his nose against Inho’s chest and licked his neck, leaving a wet trail before catching his skin with his teeth and sucking — hard enough to leave a mark.
Inho groaned. His hands landed on Gihun’s waist, and he squeezed his sides.
“How can you be so stupid, jagiya?” Gihun whispered against his neck and squeezed his fist, earning another moan from Inho. “I love you too. You can’t imagine how much I love you.”
Inho’s dick twitched in his hold, and he came with a grunt, his cum coating Gihun’s hand and stomach.
For a few moments they sat in silence, both breathing hard and trying to come to their senses.
Gihun was the first one to move. He kissed Inho’s cheek softly and leaned back a little. It was completely dark outside, the only source of light in the room being the one that they left in the kitchen. He couldn’t see Inho’s face clearly, and he didn’t need to. He knew that face inside out, saw it so many times — happy, sad, devastated, perfectly blank and composed. Inho’s mask broke today, and finally, Gihun was able to read him again. Finally, Inho felt like a person he had always known.
Inho still looked at the mattress, his head low as if he was afraid to face Gihun, ashamed by his outburst.
Gihun smiled and ran his fingers through Inho’s hair. It was damp from the sweat and gel, and it was impossible to put it into something appropriate.
Inho still didn’t move, and Gihun sighed, pursing his lips. “Inho-ya,” he tried quietly. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Inho shook his head and finally moved. He sprang to his feet and muttered, “I’ll be back in a second,” before walking out of the room.
Gihun’s chest tightened with anxiety, but he didn’t give in, shaking his head slightly. If Inho needed a moment, he would let him have a moment.
He climbed out of the bed and put his underwear and pants on, wincing as the fabric touched his sweaty skin. Cringing, he wiped his hand off the bedsheets, deciding that they were dirty already, and walked onto the small balcony, connected to Inho’s bedroom. A cold wind ran over his naked chest and shoulders, and Gihun shivered, goosebumps covering his skin instantly.
The pack of cigarettes lay in his pocket, and Gihun pulled it out. The last cigarette stared back at him invitingly, and he hummed, contemplating. Inho couldn’t stand him smoking in his flat, but maybe today—
He didn’t manage to finish his thought as something landed on his shoulders, and Gihun shuddered. The pack fell from his fingers with a quiet thud.
“You’ve scared me!” he yelped and pressed his hands against his chest. “What if I had a heart attack, Inho-ya?”
Inho huffed and squatted, picking the pack up and handing it to Gihun. “Put the jacket on. You’ll be cold.”
Gihun watched him carefully. Inho looked better, his expression less haunted and agitated, and still, an unease could be felt from him. Gihun frowned and put his arms in the sleeves.
Suddenly, he realised Inho brought him the same jacket Gihun had forgotten to return. And judging by a playful light in his eyes and a slight curve of his lips, he knew perfectly what he was doing.
Gihun huffed and lit his cigarette up in revenge, blowing the smoke into Inho’s face.
“I won’t let you smoke here tomorrow,” Inho muttered and leaned over the railing, looking in the distance. So there would be tomorrow, Gihun noted to himself inwardly, his eyes darting towards Inho’s hunched figure. He was dressed in the same pants and shirt, his hair still messed up and unstyled.
Gihun puffed on his cigarette again and bit his lip, savouring the nicotine taste, taking the silence between them in.
“Gihun-ah,” Inho finally said and turned, facing him. “I still have something to tell you.”
Gihun’s heart sank, but he nodded and tried to smile encouragingly. “Sure.”
“It’s— it’s about my work,” Inho squeezed out quietly. “And my father. And my— my wife.”
Inho sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, collecting his thoughts. “I’ve told you already that after our— our split-up, I’ve thought a lot about your words. About people. And worthiness. You know.”
Gihun nodded silently, letting him continue.
“And I feel— I feel like I need to explain myself if I want to have you back in my life.”
“Inho, I—” Gihun tried. He wanted to say that from now on, Inho would be in his life no matter what, until Inho grew tired of him himself. Gihun had tried to live without him for two years, and he didn’t want to try it again.
Inho stopped him, raising his hand. “No, please, Gihun-ah. Just listen. I need to tell you my story anyway. I want to.”
“Okay,” Gihun murmured and took another drag on his cigarette, this time, exhaling the smoke to the side.
“I know you don’t like my work and my workplace,” Inho started blankly. So this was the talk. Gihun tensed but didn’t protest, letting Inho continue. “And believe me, I’m not a big fan either. The girl— Honestly, believe me, It pained me too that I had to deny her help.” Gihun composed a neutral expression on his face as Inho shot a quick glance to his direction.
“What happened to her?” Gihun asked quietly. His heart fluttered in anticipation. Maybe Inho knew about her fate and how her life worked out.
Inho smiled. “She’s fine. She had a daughter, and they live in Busan now.”
Gihun let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Did you give her insurance?”
Inho winced and shook his head. “No. I’ve told you I couldn’t. It was against the company’s rules.”
Gihun huffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course. How could it be otherwise?”
“I covered her bills myself,” Inho added quietly and looked up, meeting Gihun’s gaze.
Gihun raised his eyebrows, his hand holding a cigarette stopping in the air. “You covered her bills?” he echoed in surprise.
Inho nodded, looking at Gihun intently, clearly waiting for his reaction.
“It’s— it’s very noble of you,” Gihun muttered and puffed on his cigarette again.
Inho scoffed. “You don’t sound impressed, Gihun-ah.”
“Did you do this to impress me?”
The silence stretched between them. Inho narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, his gaze sharp and waiting. Gihun didn’t give in and took the last drug on his cigarette, not breaking eye contact.
Inho gave in first. His shoulders stiffened, and he averted his gaze, suddenly losing all his bravado. He licked his lips in a nervous gesture before whispering, “I didn’t do this to impress you, Gihun-ah. At least not for only that reason. When you mentioned Jiwon—” Gihun shivered and scrunched his eyes, remembering his harsh words and Inho’s face falling as if he had hit him, “I realised that I went too far. And I— I was slowly morphing into my father.” Inho chuckled bitterly. “And when I was young, I thought I would never be like him.”
“Then why do you work for him?” Gihun asked. His hands tingled with desire to comfort Inho, to soothe him, stroking his hair, squeezing his shoulders. He made himself stand in his place, looking at Inho intently. They needed to finish this conversation.
“I owe him,” Inho murmured and gripped the railing even harder.
And then Inho started talking, quiet and quick, his words flowing out his mouth as if he wanted to get rid of them. “When Jiwon died and I was fired publicly from the job I dedicated my life to, I started drinking. I’ve always had problems — I guess you can tell — but at that time, it became dangerous. My relationship with my father—” Inho paused and waved his hand aimlessly, trying to find the right word. “It has always been difficult. He’s a strong man. Businessman by heart. And he’s always believed I would follow his steps. You know, I even studied in school with an economic focus. And his plan for me has always been me entering SNU and then inheriting his company.”
“And you entered the police academy instead,” Gihun whispered.
“Can you imagine how huge the scandal was?” Inho chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “I moved out and started to provide for myself. We didn’t lose contact completely as I cared for Junho. We spent time together. But of course there always was tension. I’ve never asked him for anything until— until Jiwon fell ill, and I had to borrow his money.” Inho’s voice went out, and he furrowed and coughed, clearing his throat.
“He saved my life. I was drinking like crazy, and— and one day I was ready to end it all.”
Gihun gasped, his heart skipping a beat for a second. “You—”
Inho smiled. “Yes. I was at the bridge, the one that people call suicide bridge. I don’t know how he found me. But he helped me. Told me that I could always start from the beginning. That he will give me a position in his company. That I can pay my debts off and live like a decent person again. He— He said that Jiwon wouldn’t want to see me like this.” A tear rolled down his face, and Inho wiped it off stubbornly. “So— You see, I can’t really quit or go against my father. I owe him everything I have now.”
Gihun stood at his place, frozen, his mind blank. I was ready to end it all. He had never thought he would hear Inho saying something like that. Yes, Gihun knew Inho had struggled before, he knew his wife’s death painted him to this time, but he had never imagined Inho could have been desperate enough to end his life.
Finally, Gihun moved. He closed the distance between them in a couple of steps and hugged Inho tightly, pressing the man’s head against his shoulder. His voice was shaking when he uttered, “I’m so sorry, Inho. I’m so sorry. You— you don’t have to quit. I wasn’t right either, Inho-ya. This is the way the world works, I guess. You don’t control it. And even if you quit, nothing will change.” He breathed in deeply. “I— It just pains me that the world is like that.” They kept their silence for a moment, Inho’s hot breath caressing Gihun’s neck. “But you can always be kinder, Inho-ssi,” Gihun continued quietly. “You can’t just throw your opinion about who’s worthy and who’s not left and right. It’s not for you to judge. Never.”
Inho hummed and brushed his nose against Gihun’s shoulder. He was still trembling slightly, and Gihun stroked his back softly. “You could just tell me all that before,” he murmured. “Would save some trouble, you know?”
Inho just huffed instead of responding. He wrapped his arms around Gihun’s waist, and Gihun’s gaze landed on the watch at his wrist. He bit his lip, hesitating.
“You still wear this watch,” he noted as if casually, his heart freezing in his chest.
Inho hummed, his breath making Gihun skin tickle, not really paying attention to his question.
Gihun sighed and put his chin on the top of Inho’s neck. He closed his eyes and smiled. Maybe his jealousy he didn’t want to admit wasn’t worth the trouble, he thought to himself as Inho kept trembling in his embrace.
.
.
.
One year later
Gihun breathed in cool air that tasted of salt and sea and almost groaned in pleasure. The night fell on already, and it was dark outside, the empty beach lightened only by the moon, incredibly full and bright, and the distant glow of the lanterns that hung prettily in the garden near the hotel. He shivered and threw a crumpled shirt over his still wet body.
It was Inho’s idea to sneak out of their room at night and swim peacefully, the ocean quiet and solitary, lacking usual bunches of tourists and guests of Ms.Hwang’s hotel. Gihun agreed eagerly, despite his fatigue that seemed to increase with each day they spent in Jeju.
Junho and Noeul celebrated the first anniversary of their wedding this July. Gihun accepted their invitation, thinking no longer than a second. He wanted to bring Gaeyong here anyway, and Eunji even agreed to let her go for a week, trusting him with taking care of their daughter for a week. Gihun suspected she had more trust in Inho than him but didn’t argue.
The three of them flew together, Gihun stressing out the whole length of the flight — all aimlessly. Junho picked them up in the airport, dressed in his favourite Hawaiian shirt, looking even bigger and tanner than the previous year.
Gaeyong liked Jeju. Gihun didn’t know she could swim that well, and by the second day, her skin got tanner, skipping the sunburn phase. She got along with Saebyeok and Jiyeong, and Junho was completely whipped with her, letting her climb on his shoulders and jump into the water as if he was a trampoline.
Inho kept lecturing him with ‘Junho, careful!’ and ‘You’re an adult, Junho, you should be more responsible’. He seemed to be too worried about Gaeyong’s safety — even more than Gihun was — as he always made sure she slept well, ate full meals and didn’t get into situations where she could have gotten hurt.
The only person who could compete with him in their care for Gaeyong was Ms.Hwang. She fell in love with his daughter instantly, serving her the best food, making sure she was eating well and basically letting her do whatever she wanted. Gihun’s chest tightened when he saw the look she had in her eyes as she watched Gaeyong talk with Saebyeok about something — a dreamy and somehow ruminative, like her mind was not here now. She didn’t say anything to him or Inho, greeting both of them equally warmingly. She gave them the same room — the one Gihun had to sneak in years ago, the one where she caught them together. She winked as she handed him a key, making Gihun blush violently. A fragile peace settled between them, and Gihun suspected that it was Gaeyong who melted Ms.Hwang’s heart, granting him her goodwill.
Inho shook his head, splashing water droplets from his hair everywhere, and Gihun whined, “Don’t do this! It’s cold!”
Inho threw his jacket over Gihun’s shoulders without saying a word and lay on his back, stretching his limbs. Gihun wrapped himself in the rough fabric and glanced at him fondly. Inho looked good. Rested. He let his hair grow and finally ditched his hair gel, even though it was just for a week before he had to come back to his work. His bags under his eyes didn’t look as bad as before. Gihun lay next to him and put his head on Inho’s chest, listening to his heartbeat merging with the sound of waves crashing on the shore. Inho’s hands tangled with his hair immediately, and Gihun let out a pleased sigh, murmuring, “Wish I could stay here forever.”
Inho huffed, his chest moving slightly. “I thought you hated hot weather, Gihun-ah.”
Gihun smacked his shoulder slightly. “You’re no fun, Inho-ssi.”
They fell silent.
The last year wasn’t easy, both of them learning how to live together again. Gihun had forgotten how much Inho’s pedantry had used to drive him mad, and on the other hand, his own absent-mindedness had made Inho’s eyes twitch regularly. Inho’s work still pissed him off, and Inho couldn’t stand the way Gihun got drunk with Jungbae every Friday. Eventually, both of them had to give in, accepting the way the other one was.
Gihun loved him. Each day when he got to hug Inho after a long and gruesome shift made him forget about all of the small arguments they kept having. It didn’t matter for him, and it didn’t matter for Inho.
Another gust of wind made him shiver, and with a sigh, Gihun sat up, wriggling out of Inho’s embrace. “We need to go back,” he murmured. “Or we’ll get sick.”
Inho hummed in response and sat up too, putting his shirt on. Gihun smiled looking at his messy hair and sunburned nose.
“Gihun-ah,” Inho started suddenly.
Gihun turned, meeting his eyes, and raised his brows in a silent question. Inho’s face wore a serious expression, his lips pressed in a thin line. He looked up, and Gihun’s heart skipped a beat.
“Gihun-ah,” Inho repeated, softer, and handed him something. “I want you to take this.”
Gihun’s eyes darted to his hand, and he froze, his mouth falling open.
Inho was handing him his watch.
He sat straighter and looked up rapidly, his chest tightening as he cast another glance at the watch Inho was holding. “You want me to take it?” he squeezed out, looking at Inho with wide eyes.
Inho hadn’t taken it off for years, the watch always being on his wrist, except the times he needed to shower. Gihun couldn’t imagine him without it. Suddenly, Inho looked naked, completely bare, stripped of his usual armour.
“Please, take it.” Gently, Inho straightened fingers on Gihun’s right hand before putting the watch into it. Gihun didn’t dare to move, watching him in awe, afraid to break the moment.
Inho smiled softly. “Remember you asked me if I still love Jiwon?”
Gihun nodded without saying a word.
“And years ago, you asked me why I kept wearing an old watch if I could buy something nicer?”
Gihun nodded again, not sure where Inho was going with his words.
“I— I thought about it,” Inho murmured and stroked the back of Gihun’s palm softly. “And I decided that I’m ready to let my past go. I clinged to it for too long. Do— Do you see what I mean?”
Gihun closed his fist. The watch lay heavily into his grasp, warm from Inho’s skin. It felt as if it was burning his hand. “I see,” he said quietly. “Why? Why do you give it to me? I know how important it is to you.”
Inho smiled. “I love you, Gihun-ah.” It was the only response Gihun got before Inho leaned in closer and pulled him in a kiss, his lips touching Gihun’s gently. Gihun gasped quietly and opened his mouth, giving Inho a better access. His lips tasted of sea and salt, and Gihun licked his lower lip, sucking on it slightly. The watch still burned his hand.
Inho was the first to break the kiss. Panting, he pressed their foreheads together and whispered, “I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”
Gihun’s breath hitched, and, overwhelmed, he leaned back. Inho was looking at him with the softest smile on his lips, his eyes shining waterily under a bright moonlight. Slowly, Gihun put the watch in his jacket pocket — Inho eyes followed his move — and raised his hand, cupping Inho’s face gently.
“Is it your way to proposing me?” he joked and raised his brows, expecting Inho to laugh.
Inho remained serious. “You know I can't marry you, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, only you. And— and I will give you the watch as proof. I love only you. You don’t need to worry anymore. I promise.”
Gihun believed him. He leaned in and kissed Inho, feeling his strong arms wrapping around his waist, making him arch his back. Yes, they were not perfect, both of them having flaws and struggles deep inside them. Right now, Gihun didn’t care. Inho’s words made his heart flutter, a warm feeling spreading across his chest, and he stroked Inho’s cheekbone gently, trying to share the love that threatened to overflow him. The cold was long forgotten. Gihun really wished he could spend the rest of his life like that, his hand on Inho’s warm skin, Inho’s arms wrapped around Gihun in a tight embrace.
His dreams were not destined to come true. Inho’s phone rang, and Gihun jolted, breaking the kiss. It lay on the sand next to them, and he darted his gaze towards the phone and froze, refusing to believe his eyes. The screen showed that damn creepy assistant, smiling as usual.
He glanced at Inho in confusion. “Why the fuck does this call you this late?”
Inho didn’t say anything and just cancelled the call, lowering his eyes slightly. Gihun looked at him expectantly and exclaimed, “Why does his contact say Salesman? What’s his name after all?” Inho didn't answer, looking at him with a guilty expression. Gihun narrowed his eyes and poked Inho’s chest with a finger. "Is it true that you made him spy on me? Answer, Inho!"
The tips of Inho's ears turned crimson red. Instead of an answer, he pulled Gihun into another kiss, silencing his protests.