Archive of Our Own

It started with a promise. 

Matthew’s lungs were being filled with humid and salty air. His back was seared with sunburn because he ‘couldn’t reach it’ when putting on sunscreen. There was sand between his toes and some smothered between the soles of his feet and his flip-flops. 

He held a cone of ice cream in his hand — mint chocolate maybe. The heat was making it melt faster than he could eat it, causing it to droop into his palm, down his fingers, creating a sticky mess. Taerae was sat beside him, attempting to help him clean up with thin napkins they took from the truck. 

“You eat like you're five years old,” Taerae had said with a laugh. Matthew’s response was swiped by the sudden breeze that flew past them. His bangs whipped violently off his face, and then back down into his eyes. He closed them, as he felt more sand rise up and hit his legs. Let’s go home already, Matthew thought for just a moment. 

When he opened his eyes again, Taerae was grinning at him, still wiping at the ice cream that was beginning to drip down his wrist. He definitely found his uncomfortable state humorous or something. “Hey, Matthew.”

“Hm?”

Taerae reached forward and took the waffle cone out of Matthew’s hand, before wrapping a few napkins around the base, and giving it back to him. Not foolproof, but a good enough temporary barrier. Matthew had said a short thanks, taking a lick off the top. 

“Do you ever plan to get married?” 

Taerae wasn’t looking at him when he said that. He was looking off at the shore — where the tide came in fast and then washed away slowly. Matthew unconsciously mapped out his side profile. He noticed how long Taerae’s eyelashes were, the mole near his eye, the soft curve of his cheekbone. He always somehow found himself doing things like that as they got older — becoming more aware of small details and locking them into his memory. 

“Maybe,” Matthew had said, taking a bite out of the cone, “yes. Probably,” he continued in between chews. At the time, marriage felt…weird?

Weird wasn’t the right word. Matthew was 20, and way past the adolescent mindset of finding marriage weird and gross, but not quite over the hump of avoiding commitment. He was young, dumb, and lit, as they would say at the time. He had seen a lot of people he’d gone to high school with already parading their engagements all over social media. It was those kinds of moments that made him think that maybe it was time to settle down. If he wanted a family, he’d have to start now, right? He only had so much time on Earth anyway. But they still seemed so young. The last remnants of baby fat were lingering onto their faces. C’mon. 20 wasn’t suitable for marriage, that was his real hidden opinion. Probably. 

“What about you?” Matthew had said, eyes still glued to the side of Taerae’s face. He supposed Taerae would say yes. It was the average answer to give. Despite the serious front his friend put up half of the time, Matthew knew he wanted nothing more than a happy ending like the next guy. Taerae was practical, but swooned easily, an odd middleground that Matthew could never quite understand. It wasn’t like he needed to. He liked that about Taerae. Matthew liked having to figure people out. 

“Of course.”

“So why are you bringing it up? Do you have something to tell me?” It was a joke, but something on Taerae’s face changed — a hint of nervousness that was almost not even there. Matthew watched him turn, so that they were facing each other entirely now. Matthew’s sure there was dried ice cream at the corner of his mouth based on the way Taerae’s eyes glanced down at his lips for a moment. 

“It’s stupid,” Taerae had said, kind of dryly, as if there was some of the sand they were sitting on in his throat.

“You’re talking to me. Nothing’s stupid,” Matthew reassured him. Taerae had spent ages listening to all of Matthew’s crazy ideas. Matthew had no problem doing the same.

“Okay then,” he nodded, “let’s make a pact,” Taerae said, with this surge of confidence. Matthew bit another piece of waffle cone off. 

“What kind of pact?”

“If—let’s say if neither of us are married by…27…” 27? Matthew wanted to interrupt but didn’t, he just continued to eat his ice cream. “We should get married.”

“Like,” Matthew began, swallowing his food, Taerae gave him a don’t eat so obnoxiously look, “you and me?”

“You and I,” Taerae corrected. 

Matthew rolled his eyes. “I think I’ve watched a movie like this before, or read a book.”

Taerae nodded, leaning back on his palms. “That’s where I got it from.” 

Matthew finished his ice cream, peeling the damp-ish napkin from his palm and throwing it onto the shore. 

“Look at you, killing the Earth. A bird might die because of you when they try to eat that,” Taerae commented. He sounded a little uneasy — making conversation because Matthew hadn’t responded to his proposal just yet. 

Matthew stared at his palms, wondering how he was going to clean them without running down the bank and ducking his hands into the water. That wouldn’t have necessarily cleaned them anyway. The nearest bathroom would have taken hours to walk to. “That bird would be stupid if it tried to eat paper,” Matthew responded. 

“Nevermind,” Taerae said, “I don’t know if I’d want to marry someone who litters.”

“Judging me off of one mistake?” Matthew said, the corners of his mouth turning upward as he looked at Taerae. “Who knows, five years from now I could solve global warming.”

Taerae laughed, loud, boisterous. “Solve global warming. Okay. Sure.”

“Are you serious about this?” Matthew asked genuinely. The two of them had always joked around with each other because that was the nature of their friendship. Taerae was seriously unserious. Matthew was unseriously serious. 

Taerae shrugged, still not looking at Matthew. Matthew, at the time, had wondered why it was so hard for him to do that. It was just him. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Don’t people usually do this when they’re 30?”

Taerae scrunched his nose. The mention of being 30 was just too much, he guessed. “That’s too late, don’t you think?”

It was Matthew’s turn to shrug. He didn’t know. He had never directly put an age on marriage in his mind, but at the same time it wasn’t something he really thought about frequently.

“Do you think we’ll still be friends by then? Matthew had asked next. The words felt stale in his mouth. The idea of not being friends with Taerae, not having him in his life at all, didn’t feel right. Things were unpredictable, he knew that, but every version of the future he thought of, had Taerae there with him. 

“Why wouldn’t we?”

That made Matthew feel better. It made connecting their gazes easier. It made the smile on Taerae’s face leave him with a strange feeling in his stomach. 

“Okay, sure. Let’s make a pact.”

Taerae let his gaze linger on him for a second before laughing and looking away. He seemed kind of embarrassed about the whole thing. “It’s an if only, you know,” he said, bumping his shoulder into Matthew’s. 

“Right. If only.”

Matthew had gotten off of work late that day. That was what started them off on the wrong foot for the night. 

A friend of a friend’s birthday — or maybe a promotion celebration — or engagement — okay, something that Matthew had to attend with Taerae started at 6:30. The plan was for Matthew to pick Taerae up from the house, and then drive them to the address. It was the way they usually functioned — Matthew driving them everywhere. He liked it and Taerae hasn’t ever outspokenly preferred it, so their routine worked out easily. 

But that night was far from working out easily.

At 6:15 (Taerae had always been punctual) Matthew received a text — no — three of them from Taerae. He wasn’t able to get the best read of them since he was driving at the time. His phone on the dashboard gave him a decent enough view.

[6:15pm]—where are you?

[6:15pm]—I thought I told you to stop doing overtime.

The last one mentioned an Uber — he couldn’t gauge the full text by the time the notification disappeared. 

Usually, Matthew wouldn’t have thought twice about that. That was the way Taerae was and their differences was what made them work. But, he found himself getting slightly annoyed, especially because he was already on the way to their house, and then had to completely change his route to get to where the party was being held. He was wasting time. Wasting his gas. They didn’t own an electric car that they could just plug in. Why couldn’t they just be late together? They’d both learned that parties still held the same rules that they did a decade ago in high school: when something started at a certain time, that meant it actually started 30 minutes later. 

Matthew didn’t even have the heart to sing along to the songs playing from his playlist on his way there. For the past month or so, he couldn’t stop his mood from getting soured by the most minor things. He wasn’t as easily excitable as he used to be — bubbly, as some would have chosen to describe him in the past. Those were things that came with maturing perhaps, but it shouldn’t have been that way. He was 27, not 41. 

Matthew made it to the apartment building around 6:41. Much later (which was subjective) than Taerae had arrived, as the app they used to track each other (for safety purposes of course) said he got there at 6:20. Impatient bastard. 

He scurried up the sidewalk, in an attempt to get away from the January cold quicker. When he made it into the lobby, the receptionist greeted him. Matthew intuitively tracked down the elevator — not wanting to waste anymore time by asking useless questions. He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket when he got there. A forwarded text from Taerae from last month took some time to find, but he did it. The penthouse suite was where he was going, apparently. 

On the way up, Matthew made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Since all the walls of the elevator had one, there was really no escape. He didn’t look bad. Just not like anything special. If he hadn’t had his glasses on, his bags would have been more noticeable. His bangs were covering his forehead in a sort-of juvenile way — the way he used to wear it when he was still in college. The way Taerae didn’t like anymore. Wearing your hair out of your face makes you look more professional, as he would always say. Older. Which, he wasn’t wrong about, Matthew just had a long and busy day. He had no time this morning to slick his hair back, so he didn’t. 

Matthew heard the sound of music and voices the moment the elevator doors slid open. It was easy to figure out where the entry to the party was because of the balloons that decorated the door. Matthew slid in, past the table of HELLO MY NAME IS stickers. He didn’t need to do that. His career was good enough for him to forgo the nightmare of networking at that point. 

It was a big party — it was a big house, so it made sense. Matthew spotted an obnoxious banner on the wall that said CONGRATULATIONS! He was still unsure of who it was for. He wanted to say Taerae had told him; he had just forgotten.

Tracking down Taerae wasn’t hard; a yell of Matthew’s name traveled across the room and caught his attention. Matthew knew Taerae thought twice about shouting that based on the slight flush present on his face after. 

Taerae grabbed his hand and pulled him close when he got there. An action that made Matthew forget all of his annoyances he had prior to arriving. When Taerae was warm — clingy — like that, it was the best, because it wasn’t something he did much. It made Matthew feel special. He wanted to feel special.

“This is my husband! Matthew,” Taerae introduced him, making Matthew remember that there were actual people at the table with them. 

Both men across from them were tall. One more slender and younger looking in the face. His name was Hao. The other guy had a more daunting look and demeanor. Kim Jiwoong. 

It was a silly thing to think, but Matthew felt like he and Taerae didn’t belong next to them suddenly. They smelled like prestige cologne and looked like they had on name brand suits. Matthew didn’t have on any of that. They did well, for themselves, but still, they didn’t have on any of that, so you wouldn’t have been able to tell.

The younger one, Hao, enthusiastically reached a hand out to greet Matthew. His eyes squinted as he smiled, the apples of his cheeks nearly peaking at his eyes. Matthew wondered just how old he really was. He couldn’t have been anything over 26, in his opinion.

“Hey, Taerae talks about you all the time,” Hao said. Matthew wiped his hand on his coat as discreetly as possible before shaking his hand. Coworker, Matthew had quickly identified him as, despite not even being told. Taerae had never mentioned who he worked with very much.

“Nice to meet you.”

Jiwoong on the other hand, didn’t make any attempt to reach for Matthew’s hand, but it made sense, so Matthew didn’t find it rude like most would have. They were diagonal from each other, it would make them both have to stretch awkwardly just to meet for a moment. Jiwoong simply nodded at him. Matthew nodded back.

“Anyway, come by the country club for a game. Free of charge,” Jiwoong said, before lifting a glass of wine to his lips. Matthew's eyes found the bottle in the center of the table — it was luxury. Probably not as good as the price. He was never a wine guy. Taerae was a wine connoisseur on the other hand. Matthew’s gaze tracked to the glass resting by Taerae’s fingers. He’d been drinking.

“Okay, just tell me what days are good for me to come by,” Taerae responded, with an unfitting amount of enthusiasm. Matthew realized that there was a conversation happening between the two of them before he got there. Matthew, was interrupting something, technically.

Jiwoong hunched over the table as he sat his glass down. The impact of his elbows caused it to rumble slightly. “Any day is fine,” he responded with a hum. 

It felt a bit unnerving — the moment Matthew noticed how handsome Jiwoong was. His hair was slicked back and out of face except for the strand that fell naturally in front of his forehead. His jaw was defined. Square. Perfect. His shoulders were broad. Much broader than Matthew’s. But none of that was super important. After all, looks were only one part of who someone was. It was the body language between them that Matthew observed that made him uncomfortable. The way he had leaned into Taerae’s space without making it look like he was actually doing it. The way Taerae naturally turned toward him and reached out to touch his shoulder. A touch was nothing. It should have been nothing, but Kim Jiwoong…Matthew already had him pinned down as a master at the flirting game. It was obvious. Matthew would know, because it was the way people used to flirt with him years ago. 

Taerae worked from home. It was the reason why he was so insistent on coming to the event — he didn’t get to get out much. He didn’t have the ‘luxury’ of fraternizing with his colleagues everyday in the break room and what not. He was available any day to go to…Jiwoong’s country club if he managed his time right. Matthew found himself wondering what the man even did for a living. Was he just a rich socialite? He wasn’t really up to speed with who Taerae was friends with. Maybe that was a problem. 

“Call me. We can work on that swing,” Jiwoong said to Taerae before he walked away. Matthew hadn’t realized he was tuned out for the rest of their conversation. Swing. Matthew had almost felt like laughing, but the urge quickly faded away as he watched Kim Jiwoong float across the room to another table. It wasn’t fair for Matthew to judge him, maybe that had been the way Jiwoong was with everyone. Some people were naturally charismatic.

“How do you know him?” 

Matthew knew based on the look on Taerae’s face that the question came out more bitter than he intended it to. Taerae’s smile didn’t reach his eyes — in fact it was barely a smile at all. 

“Friend of a friend.”

Okay. Matthew didn’t like the answer he received, but he swallowed the response that wanted to come out. Friend of a friend hadn’t explained why they had so much chemistry in his opinion. If it wasn’t for Hao speaking up, saying something about how whoever the party was for, was about to give regards, maybe he would’ve questioned him further. Maybe Taerae wouldn’t have taken that well and something — a conflict — might have happened.

8:35pm. After a bout of speeches from people he didn’t recognize, a few finger foods, and trying to ignore the way Jiwoong kept looking at his husband from across the room, Matthew led Taerae to the car, with their hands intertwined. An action that gave him comfort no matter how he had felt about the things happening around them. That was their saving grace.

For half of the drive home, it was silent. Partially because Taerae was slightly intoxicated and when he drank he usually dozed off. Or at least that was what Matthew had assumed. He hadn’t even spared a glance at him whenever they paused at a red light or stop sign. He didn't know the reason why.

“I told you…no overtime anymore,” Taerae mumbled. It sounded half-serious really. A little whine embedded in his voice. 

Matthew was able to look over at him then, because they were pulling into their driveway. Once the car was parked, Taerae started fiddling with his seatbelt — quickly removing it from his body and pulling on the door handle. He was angry, suddenly, noticeably. Maybe because Matthew hadn’t replied in the 20-second window he was given. Matthew unlocked the door and watched Taerae ungracefully stumble out of the car and into their house.

Matthew didn’t have half the mind to like, do something about that. If it was even anything at all. Taerae was mad at him for being late to one party, it wasn’t like it was routine. He’d get over it. 

Matthew kicked off his shoes once he got into the house, shrugging off his coat next and placing it on the rack by the door that held them. 

“Matthew.” 

He picked his head up, finding Taerae standing at the end of the foyer — foot of the stairs. He still had his long brown coat on, but at least remembered to take his shoes off. Dirt tracking on the floor was only something Taerae himself would complain about.

“Hm?” Matthew took a few steps forward, just to see him better. All they had was a dim light some feet away. Neither of them made an effort to flip on all the switches. 

“Next time when I say no overtime…can you just listen? I didn’t like showing up to the party by myself.” 

“You didn’t show up to the party by yourself,” Matthew responded immediately, because he hadn’t. Matthew got there 20-something minutes after him? It wasn’t anything drastic.

“Yes–I did! I walked in by myself when everyone else walked in with someone else,” Taerae whined. He suddenly looked like this small kicked puppy. Usually that would make Matthew feel bad, but at that moment, it hadn’t for some reason. He was just tired, Taerae was probably tired, and they should’ve just gone to sleep and forgotten about it all. 

“It was embarrassing,” he continued, sounding like he was on the verge of sobbing, which was unlike him. Matthew’s eyes had lingered on his face, watching Taerae glance away from him, seemingly embarrassed. That was all hard for him to admit, everything he had just said. Taerae had to learn how to tip-toe around Matthew’s feelings for a while. Though Matthew had always been someone who could take the truth, he’d still let you know that it hurt. Taerae himself had said that he never wanted Matthew to feel like he was doing something wrong when it came to them. 

So the conversation was annoying Matthew, even more because he didn’t think the situation warranted the reaction. Matthew barely said more than 30 words that night. What had he done besides show up late? Taerae had walked in by himself, but Matthew accompanied him for the other two hours. Why was that not enough?

“Taerae, calm down.”

Taerae kind of stomped his foot on the ground, similar to how a little kid would. That was the alcohol causing him to do that, Matthew presumed. “Don’t tell me to calm down! This is serious.”

Matthew let his eyes fall close as he released out a sigh. How was he even supposed to navigate this? He and Taerae were never the type of couple to fight much. They used to, back when they were younger, and just friends. Then when they became something more, the bickering subdued. Until recently. 

“Okay,” Matthew said, opening his eyes again, “If we’re being serious, then I didn’t like us tonight.”

Matthew cringed as he said it, even closing his eyes again in an attempt to escape the feeling. He just didn’t have any other way to put it.

“Us?” Taerae mimicked him, shaking his head in confusion. 

Matthew opened his eyes, again. “Yes, us. I don’t like you being so impatient with me. You know I was five minutes away from the house when you texted me this evening. We could have gone together if you had just waited.”

“Matthew, that's not the point. You should’ve been home an hour before that you knew what—”

“I can’t control my job,” Matthew snapped.

Taerae shook his head, recklessly. “You can.” He can’t. He was in an impromptu meeting with a stakeholder. Matthew couldn’t cancel on the people who pay him for one thing.

“And you know what else I don’t like?” Matthew asked as he took a step closer, “I don’t like having to watch my husband get flirted with by some random man.”

Taerae’s face had twisted up, a beat of silence passing before he eventually responded. “What are you talking about?”

What was he talking about. Matthew could have laughed in his face. “Kim Jiwoong, right?” Matthew grinned lazily as he grazed Taerae’s shoulder in the way Taerae had done to Jiwoong hours earlier. It was a kind of childish, malicious thing to do. “Gonna meet him at the country club to go golf? Really? It’s winter.”

“God forbid I have friends,” Taerae said, pushing his hand away.

“God forbid I fucking exist,” Matthew responded. If Taerae wanted to play that game, he could too. He could play it just as well.

Taerae stared at him, unamused, hurt maybe at his intentions being questioned. “Whatever Matthew,” he said, waving his hand before heading up the stairs. 

If they were younger, Matthew probably would’ve followed him up there. That was their dynamic — chip and dale — two small little animals that never got tired of chasing each other around. That night, they were kind of like water and oil. 

He wasn’t in the mood to chase. Matthew was tired and exhausted. So Matthew watched him go, and instead of following him up the stairs he walked into the living room and laid on the couch.

The whole thing between them started with a promise. Then there was another promise of forever. It’s in Matthew’s vows. 

They ended up marrying at 24 instead of at 27. It had felt more convenient — like a portal of time had opened just for them to do that one specific thing — be together. 

Taerae, he had gotten out of a bad break-up a few months before — with the ex that they still refuse to name specifically (proven to be difficult because he shared the same name as Matthew’s best friend) — and Matthew was the only person there for him. 

It was weird to watch him go through that — as someone who had known Taerae for years prior. He had completely shut himself off from the world. It was a much worse reaction to any break-up Matthew had ever gone through at that point. Maybe because it had been three years for them. Giving someone three years was a lot. It was Taerae’s first serious relationship too. 

That day, the day that things changed officially, they were in Taerae’s apartment. 

Matthew was holding his friend in his arms as he sobbed quietly. The third day in a row of comforting him, but Matthew hadn’t minded. Matthew couldn’t help but observe how frail Taerae looked. He was pale and not eating very much. He’s sure if he had lifted Taerae’s baggy t-shirt to reveal his torso, you would have been able to see the faint outline of his ribs. It was scary. A scary time. If you asked Taerae, he’d probably tell you it wasn’t an ideal state to be in for things to change between them, but Matthew changed them anyway.

There was this moment of stillness. Matthew found peace in how fragile Taerae looked in his arms and thought: why don’t I try loving you? He could’ve done it way better than his ex. It would be simple. 

He hadn’t realized that he had said it out loud, or that Taerae wasn’t asleep like he figured he was. 

The funny part of it all was that he wasn’t made known that Taerae was awake when he said it until the next day. 

Taerae had confronted him about what he said (over the phone of course, face to face would’ve been too much), asking him if he meant it. Not being the type to run away from his feelings, Matthew admitted to it pretty easily. He told Taerae how he felt when he looked at him — confessing the feelings he’d been harboring for a while. There was a kind of wistfulness in his own voice that he could hardly recognize. 

Matthew was done with dating strangers, he knew that much. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to be with someone who’s already your friend? Wouldn’t that be easier? For both of them?

“I know it’s bad timing,” Matthew had said quietly into the phone, feeling guilt creeping over him. 

“It’s fine. When is it ever good timing?”

“Right…”

Silence stretched between their lines. It left Matthew wondering if he had fucked everything up with the confession. If he was a bad person. If he was a vulture preying on vulnerability. 

“Matthew…come over okay-I miss you.”

“Okay.”

They had a small, cozy wedding ceremony, nothing blown out of proportion. Matthew invited Hanbin and prayed that his parents would fly down with his sister. There were a lot of phone calls about that. A handful of disagreements regarding his decisions. A few tears shed. Matthew had given them a sort of pseudo-ultimatum; they either accepted who he was or never spoke to him again. He knew doing that would be impossible, Taerae had even listened in on the phone call, telling him afterwards that it was unrealistic. He knew, but he also knew he needed collateral of some sort. It ended up working out.

Taerae’s parents were much more accepting of the whole thing. A very nice pair who considered Matthew as a second son already. They were happy to hear about the engagement, and even happier to get a wedding invite. (Word on the street was, Taerae’s mother never liked Park Hanbin).

Now, even though the wedding was three years ago, Matthew can still remember every moment.

One thing was hard to forget; Taerae cried a lot that day. As he walked down the aisle, when he got up to the arch, as Matthew held his hands in his. He sobbed silently. Matthew would’ve felt sad if Taerae didn’t look so cute while doing it, so instead, he laughed. 

Matthew’s vows are framed somewhere in their house, maybe in the office that they share, probably collecting dust by now. They started with I know we’re only 24, but right now it feels like the right time.

Taerae’s vows were much more deeper. They read off the page like poetry, because he was always really good with written words. And Matthew did cry, listening to them being read. The words sounded like an apology of some sort, for the years that had passed, the time they spent apart — the time that they never spoke of or acknowledged until that moment. An apology Matthew would never ask for.

When Taerae was still with his ex, Matthew had given him space.

Before, when they were both single, they had spent all their time together. Perhaps even an unhealthy amount. That routine — relationship that they had — didn’t translate well to the new life Taerae had with Park Hanbin. He always had disliked Matthew. Everything he was and ever would be. And Matthew hadn’t liked him either. Seeing Taerae with him gave him a funny feeling that he could never quite shake, like something wasn’t right, but it wasn’t Matthew’s place to say anything. What was important was that Taerae was happy. 

So, Matthew distanced himself the first time Park Hanbin complained about him, to avoid the awkward conversation that he knew was coming if he continued to hang around. He pursued more education — enrolling in Law school in the meantime. He checked up on Taerae from time to time — mostly through the form of just gazing at his social media.

Kim Taerae is in a relationship with Park Hanbin. 

Usually, when Matthew still saw that on his Facebook page, he’d end his ‘checking up’ there. 

I think I had to experience all those hardships to finally get back to you, Taerae had said at the end of his vows.

They say a full circle moment always feels good. It did. It was truly the happiest Matthew had ever felt up until that point.

The night of their wedding reception, far after all the guests had left and they had said their goodbyes to their families, Matthew drove Taerae around for the first time since he had gotten his license. They were headed to a river where they could go sit on the bank. It was a promise he had made to him years before — that Taerae would be his first ever passenger once he got his license and a car.

Taerae had his license since they were around 19. He was always good with tests and things where Matthew was not. Matthew only had his sheer ambition to stop taking public transit as the final push to get his.

“How’d you even pass your test? You’re driving a little sloppy,” Taerae said, smiling in his ear. 

“It’s because you’re leaning all over me right now!” Matthew complained, light-heartedly. And Taerae was, kind of bonelessly hung over Matthew’s side as best as he could. Couldn’t have been comfortable since he was leaning over the gear stick between them, but he found a way.

“I want to always be by you,” he giggled next, as he moved even closer, as if it was possible for them to merge into one person at that moment. Matthew figured that his swerving on the road and ever changing speed was fine, as long as Taerae was happy, Matthew was too.

Matthew wasn’t able to survive more than three hours away from Taerae. 

He had planned to crash in the guest room they had, even reaching the point of awkwardly getting ready for bed downstairs in the guest bathroom. It wasn’t like he couldn’t go upstairs to the room he and Taerae shared. He had every right to. No matter what was going on between them, it was still their room at the end of the day. 

But earlier, when Matthew had stood at the foot of the staircase, looking up into the abyss of darkness that led to the second floor, it had felt as if there was a line he wasn’t able to cross. If he had, an invisible wall would block him from going any further. It was a terrible feeling to have. An unwanted one. 

Matthew kept seeing the expression on Taerae’s face from hours before in his head. The hurt that was rooted in his voice was lingering in the confines of his eardrums. It was even worse, because he still didn’t think Taerae had the right to feel that way over one misstep in their plans; at the same time, he didn’t really like seeing Taerae cry.

It was those thoughts that had him unable to fall asleep comfortably. The comforter pulled over his body didn’t feel like his. That bed hadn’t felt like his own. It was empty. It was just him. He felt like how a guest would feel. In his own home. 

Matthew, who had always had a hard time with being alone, didn’t like being away from Taerae. 

The house always felt bigger than usual at night — more spacious as Matthew walked through it. It was a nicer neighborhood that they lived in. And their house was better — more expensive — compared to their peers. Matthew had gotten lucky after Law school and landed a job as an Investment Banker. It suited him more than being a Paralegal in his opinion. He was nice. Friendly. He looked like he could be trusted. Conversational. People felt comfortable with him. With that, and Taerae’s job as a Support Analyst, they were able to combine their incomes and live a nice life. A white picket fence life, honestly. It was the type of life that Matthew had never considered feasible a few years ago. He was lucky to be in this state and to be with his best friend. His soulmate.

As he moved through the halls and up the stairs, he became oddly hyper aware of the silence. The creaks being made by his footsteps. He didn’t check the time before deciding to go up. His phone was still downstairs, maybe lost in the sheets. 

The light at the end of the hall wasn’t on, but the door was left open. Matthew wondered if Taerae had still expected him to come even after the harsh words they exchanged. 

He heard a barely there-quiet sound of a video playing as he neared closer. Taerae was up, on his phone, he concluded. Sometimes the wine wore off for him quickly. Or perhaps it’d just not been as late as Matthew had presumed. Suddenly walking became easier, less like someone had put chains around his ankles. Matthew thought of molding his body next to Taerae’s and drifting off to sleep. The bed he belonged in was that one — their bed. 

When he rounded the corner, the image of Taerae on his side — face illuminated by the faint light of his phone screen — was there. His eyes met Matthew’s, but he didn’t immediately tell him to go away or come. He said nothing, which filled Matthew with an uneasiness he did not yet want to acknowledge.

Matthew walked around their bed, deciding to just sit on the edge before fully falling onto the mattress. He faced Taerae, only viewing his back. He realized then, that it wouldn’t be easy to mend whatever was broken when Taerae didn’t flip over on his side to look back at him. There was an apology at the bottom of his throat that was hard to cough up. It wasn’t Matthew’s fault, so he didn't want to do it.

Touching was always easier. Matthew shifted over, causing the bed to dip, until he was pressed against Taerae’s backside. He rested his forehead on the back of Taerae’s head, breathing in the smell of shampoo at his nape. Matthew could hear Taerae turning off his phone and pushing it away. To Matthew’s surprise, Taerae reached for his hands, pulling them so his arms wrapped comfortably around Taerae’s waist. 

“I was waiting for you,” Taerae said, slowly, quietly, a sentence eaten up by the dark. That was hard for him to admit, again, Matthew knew it because they were both stubborn in their own ways. He imagined him stumbling up to their room after their argument, into bed, too lazy to do anything but change clothes. Matthew vaguely remembered hearing shuffling coming down the stairs as he tried to sleep the first time. He figured he was imagining it. Maybe that was Taerae getting water, or considering to pull him out of the guest room, which he obviously eventually decided against.

Matthew hummed. “Thought you needed space.”

“No,” Taerae said back, “I don’t like being away from you.”

“I don’t either.”

Taerae easily turned around in his arms after that. He looked sleepy. Matthew probably looked similar. There was a smile playing on his lips, such a contrast from how he looked earlier. Matthew wondered how he had even gotten there in the first place. Maybe if he didn't have alcohol in his system, doing this wouldn't have been as simple.

He watched as he closed his eyes. "Goodnight," Taerae said. Matthew knew then, falling asleep would be much easier.

Matthew stirred awake around six in the morning, for some reason. Taerae was up too, holding his phone above his face as he swiped through it.

"Good morning," Matthew mumbled, a yawn following shortly after. Taerae glanced over at him and smiled, turning off his phone and facing him. "Good morning," he responded. He moved closer, making them return to the position they had fallen asleep in.

Surprisingly, Taerae kissed him once, at the corner of his mouth, and he lingered there, kind of just resting his face against Matthew’s before leaving another on his lips. The kisses that they shared were lazy. Matthew wanted to bring up how they have morning breath and how it's semi-gross, but the thought quickly escaped his mind. When Matthew opened his mouth, Taerae would kind of dip his tongue into it, touching his teeth. It was good, kind of hot. 

“Help me,” Taerae said suddenly, pressing his crotch forward to where Matthew’s thigh had unintentionally slipped between his legs. Matthew had broken where their mouths were connected, spit stringing between their lips, but stayed close. “Right now?”

Doing it in the morning was uncommon for them, but it filled Matthew with some sort of thrill. “Yes," Taerae responded, moving even closer.

"Don’t leave me hanging,” Taerae kind of begged next, when he noticed Matthew contemplating it. Matthew was easily convinced, like he always was when it came to sex. They didn’t really get to do it much since they were older and busier. Taerae was right, overtime killed their downtime. He owed him that. 

Getting into position was easy: Taerae on his back with Matthew hovering over him. It felt kind of surgical — Matthew was an expert at doing the procedure. Taerae’s sleep shirt was big, loose on his frame, showing a generous amount of the skin around his collarbone and chest. Matthew placed his hands on Taerae’s waist, his fingers grazing over where his back began. He pushed the shirt up next, slowly revealing Taerae’s stomach. He was slender, but slightly pudgy at the sides. It was more noticeable when he was near naked, when Matthew was able to see the waistband of his underwear pressed into the curve of his hips. It made Matthew find him cute. A little more innocent, even at 27.

Taerae squirmed under him, eyes falling closed immediately as Matthew bunched his shirt up to his armpits. Matthew could see goosebumps on his skin even though it was far from cold in the room. Matthew’s thumb grazed his left nipple, and Taerae gave him the reaction he expected. Another squirm, this time accompanied by a cut off moan — more like a whimper. 

Taerae had closed his eyes when Matthew went further, when he blew air onto the nipple as his fingers tweaked with the other. They were still closed when Matthew trailed kisses down his torso and nuzzled his face against his boner straining against the fabric. Still closed when Matthew pulled down his boxers and took his semi-soft cock into his mouth. It grew harder as the moments went on — filling up to full mast eventually. Matthew however, got this weird feeling as he did it. This emptiness. This random want for hands to be carded in his hair and forcing him to take all of it. Taerae just laid there, kind of unmoving, maybe because he was trying not to, he was like that a lot.

It was really a simple thing, he could ask Taerae to do what he wanted — force Taerae to by leading his hands there, but he didn’t. It was a feeling so weird that he ended up pulling off and sitting up instead. He decided doing something else would free him from those thoughts.

Taerae was always easier to take care of. He was sensitive, moved by the simplest of touches. Matthew liked that for some time, as it usually made him feel good about what he was doing, but it made all their time together short. On the occasions where he wanted them to drag on — for it to not end — he’d edge, feeling joy curl in his stomach at Taerae’s unfulfillment. Please, he’d beg, please, please, please, reaching for Matthew, wanting nothing but Matthew. He couldn’t go on without Matthew. He really liked that — the way it groomed his ego.

Around the time the two of them turned 27 last year, the feeling started to not last. It didn’t linger like it used to. It didn’t tug at Matthew’s heart strings and make him want to do what they were doing forever. 

Those were the clinical thoughts that always passed through his head. Barely even there, but still too scary to ignore the more they came about. 

Matthew snapped his own shorts down, enough to free his cock and slide it against Taerae’s. He planted his hands into the bed by Taerae’s head — looking at the picture being painted beneath him. Taerae was much more graceful when he was horny. Very swanlike. The arch of his back off the bed that Matthew couldn’t directly see was probably perfect from a side view. He was like butter in Matthew’s hands when he wasn’t so fussy. 

Matthew glanced up at his face — seeing the pinkness on his cheeks glow in the soft morning light cascading from their window. His blonde hair fanned out on the pillow — like a halo — as some would say. Matthew liked looking at Taerae’s face when he was fucking him, because it would help him finish usually. That time however, he had closed his eyes as he wrapped a hand around both of their cocks. He ignored how Taerae would’ve been better suited for that job because his hands were larger, and focused on getting it done. 

Getting it done. This was the way Matthew talked about being intimate with his husband. The way he referred to sharing a moment with Taerae, who was nothing but beautiful. Getting it done. 

Matthew didn’t open his eyes either. He listened to Taerae’s sinful yet quiet moans and focused on solely touch to finish. 

Matthew’s eyes blinked open moments after, when he heard a strangled sensitive whine and hands pushing at his stomach. He watched Taerae roll out of the bed and hurry to their bathroom. Taeare never liked lying in the aftermath of anything they ever did. He considered it to be dirty. Indecent.

Matthew looked down at his wet hand, and then wiped it on his shirt before settling back into bed. He’d just have to deal with whatever Taerae planned to gripe at him once he woke up again.

Matthew rose next that day, around eight, which was early for him on a Saturday. 

Not as early as Taerae, who had been perched in the office since seven in the morning because his job required him to be. But early for Matthew, who on weekends, prided himself in sleeping in. 

His morning dragged on. There was a shower to rid himself of what they did a few hours ago. Brushing his teeth. The half-assed skin care routine that primarily consisted of splashing his face with water and taking something from Taerae’s collection of products. 

He got dressed, in a pair of pajama pants with a silly pattern on them and a wife beater. It was his usual weekend attire — the perfect get up for lazing around the house. He exited their room officially around nine, down the hall and down the stairs with a warm cup of coffee on his mind. 

However, just before Matthew officially made it into the living room, he stopped by the open door to the office. He could hear Taerae laughing at something as the sound of his fingertips clambering against the keyboard soon joined in.

He couldn’t see him yet, but could imagine what he looked like at that moment. For some odd reason, Matthew stood there, in the shadow of the door. He didn’t move to greet Taerae good morning like he usually would. He hadn’t thought about bringing Taerae one of the many energy drinks that they had in their refrigerator. In fact, every time Matthew had brought him one, Taerae had already had one anyway. So why was he wasting his time doing that?

No. All Matthew thought about was the night before and this morning. How events unfolded recklessly. Things were supposed to be fine now that they had kind of mended what was wrong, but had they really? Neither of them apologized to the other. Last night they admitted to not wanting to be away from each other. Then got each other off this morning.

The problem was that Matthew was still having those dark thoughts. Matthew still felt like he had an anvil on his chest. Things weren’t right. They were terrible communicators.

He finally passed by the door after moments of contemplating what to do next — catching a small glimpse of Taerae at his desk as he did. It was fine. If he asked about it, Matthew would just say that he didn’t want to interrupt his work.

Their weekends, arguably the most time they ever get to spend together, are nothing extraordinary. They don’t operate very conventionally either despite the white picket fence life of it all Matthew had mentioned earlier. Neither Matthew or Taerae could cook that well. They never sat down in their dining room for three meals a day together. The closest they would get to that was the times they’d eat takeout on the couch together. They were still living like they were in college really, this time with careers. They didn’t tell you that getting out of that cycle was hard. 

Time passed. On Saturdays, Taerae usually stopped working around 11:00 am. Matthew was on his third cup of coffee and three quarters through an episode of some show when Taerae strolled into the living room.

His back was facing him, because of how their floor plan was laid out. Matthew watched as he reached in the space that they have for miscellaneous things like workout equipment and- golfing clubs. 

Taerae was picking up golfing clubs.

After he settled the strap over his shoulder, he turned around, giving Matthew a full chance to look at him. He was in cream colored shorts that just barely reached past mid thigh — loose fitting — or else Matthew probably would have thought he was out of his mind. The matching polo shirt looked like it was name brand, just based off of the symbol. Everything had looked oddly dry-cleaned or ironed or something. That effort to look nice had not gone unnoticed. 

Matthew had stopped drinking from his mug. His hands were just cupped around it, soaking up the heat. Where were Taerae’s clothes? Matthew wanted to pick up his phone and check the temperature outside suddenly. Sure, global warming made the winters skew hotter in recent years, but it was still a cooler day. Surely he had at least a coat to put on.

Noticing that Matthew was staring, Taerae perked up. “Good morning, honey,” Taerae said the moment he was rooted before the couch. Honey. A joke between them from the beginning of their friendship. Matthew had started calling him that when he was 19 because people said they acted and argued like an old married couple. It never wore off.

Matthew sank further into the couch, deciding to take a sip of his coffee before it ran cold. “Good morning,” he responded, making sure that his voice was light. 

“I’m heading out today. I was invited to the country club for a game of golf.”

“With...Mr.Kim?” 

Matthew wondered if the part where he actually met the older man slipped from Taerae’s mind. It couldn’t have. It was the reason their argument escalated entirely last night. 

Taerae fidgeted with his bag of clubs slightly. He didn’t even know how to use them. When has Taerae ever gone golfing? He looked like prey for someone to come behind him and help him work on his swing. Matthew imagined that someone being Jiwoong for a sparse moment, and nearly excused himself to go dump the rest of his coffee out. That man really bothered him for some reason.

“Yes…but other people will be there. Of course,” Taerae had said. Maybe because he had noticed the distaste growing on Matthew’s face. “You should come,” he offered next, like it was nothing. The wobble — kind of nervous laugh in his tone was unmistakable. He was offering something ridiculous and both of them had known. Matthew was in no position to accompany him to a country club. Even if he had gone upstairs and changed, he’d have nothing to put on to match his husband’s attire. They didn’t go to country clubs. That lifestyle was the kind they always made fun of. Where did Taerae even get those clothes or clubs?

He had questions. So many of them. 

“That’s okay. I appreciate the invite though,” Matthew responded, fortunately missing the look of relief that sparked across Taerae’s face by a blink.

“Okay,” Taerae said, kind of dryly, “I’m leaving now.” It was awkward. The way he was verbalizing everything he was about to do. 

“Are you taking the car?” 

They shared it. That made it easier to tackle the car note compared to having to pay on two. Matthew drove it more since he worked over 40 hours a week in the city.

“Yup.”

Matthew nodded, rising from the couch to his feet. He stretched his arms out slightly. “Cool. Drive safe,” he mentioned. Taerae took a few steps back, just to give him space, but didn’t make a move for the door yet. 

Then he suddenly stepped forward, and reached for Matthew’s arm. His eyes flickered around Matthew’s face for some time. “I love you,” Taerae had said, a little shyly. 

Matthew couldn’t figure out if it was his form of reassurance. Or a way of telling him that he remembered what happened last night. Matthew had no idea what it was. Taerae was harder to figure out than he seemed. Despite being so straightforward and blunt, his feelings were hard to decipher at times. He didn’t always have the answer to everything. Sometimes Taerae got nervous and said nothing at all.

“I love you too,” Matthew had responded, because it was the truth. He did love Taerae. 

Matthew spent most of the day binge watching shows he never had time to catch up with and wondering what Taerae was doing at every moment. 

It felt obsessive almost. It wasn't like it was the first time Matthew had spent a Saturday alone since they’d been married, but it was the first time he had felt uneasy about it. The first time Taerae had stayed out for an extended amount of time. The first time, Matthew had been made aware of Jiwoong.

6:14 pm. Matthew called Taerae and got sent straight to voicemail. He then checked the tracking app, and saw that he was at the country club for a good chunk of time, 4 hours, before traveling to another unknown location. It was an address that Matthew didn’t recognize. Maybe someone’s house based on the area — it looked like a neighborhood. 

It was almost too simple. Too obvious. Was Matthew a fish being baited?

If he had been the utmost serious about it, he could have taken an Uber to the location. Shown up to whoever’s door and barged in, looking for Taerae. Punch a guy (Jiwoong maybe?) in the face. He was being ridiculous. Matthew was watching too many shows and movies. The Action one he just clicked out of was rotting his brain, obviously.

Taerae was most likely fine, even if he was doing things out of the ordinary. Sometimes Matthew thought about changing his routine but didn't. It was very human to want to change. 

They had a level of trust that couldn’t be shaken, right? That’s what their relationship was built off of — the fact that Taerae expected Matthew to not hurt him after being damaged so badly. After all, Taerae wasn’t doing the flirting that night, Jiwoong was. 

[7:00pm]— I love you. Text me when you see this. I’m just checking in.

Around 7:30 pm, Matthew heard the garage door lift. He was dozing off on the couch, the soft sound of the Rom-com he was watching playing through the living room. The door opened, and then closed, kind of abruptly. There was shuffling, maybe Taerae taking his shoes off and setting his golf clubs down back in that spot where the dining room met the kitchen. Then Taerae appeared in his side view before stopping by the end of the couch. 

Matthew realized he had been just sitting in the dark for a while. Sunset was ages ago. It had been a waste of his Saturday.

He was still able to tell just how perfect Taerae looked. He had looked just as perfect as he did when he left. Too perfect even. There wasn’t a single thing out of place. His hair looked like it hadn’t even moved an inch. His clothes weren’t wrinkled or disheveled. He looked like he had taken no part in all of the terrible scenarios that Matthew had been trying not to imagine during the time that he was gone. 

“Got your text,” Taerae said, pressing a knee into the couch cushion, body weight shifting forward slightly, “I would’ve responded but I was already on my way home.”

“‘S fine,” Matthew responded groggily, rubbing the side of his face. “How was it?”

He asked, not because he really wanted to know, but because he wanted to see what Taerae would tell him.

“Good. I worked on my swing. I can hit a ball pretty far.” That was supposed to be funny kind of, Matthew thought, but he didn’t laugh. His swing. The thing Jiwoong mentioned. The act Matthew viewed as indecent in the event of Taerae getting help with it. 

Taerae crawled onto the couch after he said that, pawing around Matthew’s body and laying half-on top of him. He rested his head on Matthew’s chest, with his ear pressed over his heart. 

“Come with me next time. We can go together,” Taerae said quietly, hands pressing into where they were resting on Matthew’s back. Matthew lazily slung an arm up to wrap around Taerae’s back too, to hold him there. It felt familiar, comforting. If Matthew just ignored what they were discussing — dissociated from all his thoughts as well — everything was okay. 

“Okay, sure.”

They were okay. That was okay. Matthew's trust in Taerae was stronger than his doubts. The doubts were things he was projecting. They were his own thoughts about their relationship. Taerae was doing nothing wrong. Like he said himself, he was allowed to have friends, even if they were more handsome than the average person. Matthew never had a penchant for being so pretentious. Was that even what it was at all? He sounded — no he was — insecure.

Matthew needed to work on himself. 

8:46 pm. Taerae wiggled out of Matthew’s grip and got off of him, mentioning how he was heading up to get ready for bed. Matthew let him go, considering the idea of joining him even, before deciding to stay downstairs for another few minutes. Taerae always took long showers. It would be best for him to have the space to do that. 

Just before he left, as Matthew watched Taerae get up and stretch in front of him, he noticed something. 

A mark. 

It was on the back of his neck, near his nape. Even in the little to none lighting, he could tell it was red. It was an odd location for a mark like that. Then, Matthew noticed another one shortly after, when Taerae stretched his arms out particularly wide, causing his shirt to rise and expose some of his back. 

More marks. That looked the same as the one on his neck. There were two, unevenly positioned near each other. Red. Swollen.

Then they were gone, hidden by Taerae’s polo. 

Then Taerae was gone. Disappearing up the stairs. Completely oblivious to what Matthew had just seen.

On Sunday, Taerae left to go golfing again at the country club. Matthew didn’t argue against it even though he considered the idea. He was still processing what he had found out the night before. So Matthew let him go, and without an exchange of I love yous. Maybe, Taerae had just forgotten. Or Maybe Matthew should have blamed himself for not reminding him.

In the morning, on Monday, Matthew couldn’t bear to look at Taerae anymore.

He got ready, wordlessly, which wasn’t out of routine for them. Sometimes, no, most times, they had nothing to say to each other. On the days Matthew had to go back to work, he was always teetering on the edge of being easily bothered after the weekend was over. Grouchy. Taerae understood that better than anyone else. 

But he didn’t either, at the same time. 

That morning it was like he was trying to make Matthew sit in his own misery. Practically simmer in it. He made Matthew breakfast, when he never did that. Matthew had to be out of the house and on the road by 7:30 if he wanted to make it to work on time. At 7:20, he was staring at a plate of scrambled eggs and two pieces of nearly burnt sausage.

“I feel bad about leaving you alone this weekend,” Taerae said, but in Matthew’s head he didn’t really mean it. So it was supposed to be apology breakfast.

Matthew glanced up to where he sat across from him at the dining table. Not directly at Taerae, more at just his body. He was still in his pajamas while Matthew was in his work attire. A button up — Matthew’s probably. It fit loose on him because Matthew sized up to fit his arms into things. He stared at where the top few buttons were undone — making it so a hint of his pale skin was shown. There was a flush rising to his collarbone from his chest. Taerae always did turn red easily.

An unsettling feeling crawled all over him at the sight. Because Matthew knew what laid under the material of his shirt. The marks that decorated Taerae’s skin that he thought he was good at hiding. He wasn’t. He was careless, stupidly so. 

Matthew couldn't sleep well last night — shifting awake around three in the morning. So, he took the chance to get a better look at the back of Taerae’s neck. It was easy, like the opportunity was waiting for him. He even grazed his fingers over the spot. The mark was fading away kind of, but still slightly swollen. Matthew just wondered why in that place. The only way Taerae would be able to cover it up was with a scarf or makeup that he’d have to buy. A hickey in such a specific place didn’t make sense. They — Taerae — whoever had the same idea, because he didn’t come home with another one in plain sight like that. That didn’t make it better. Matthew wasn’t suddenly okay because Taerae wasn’t parading hickeys on his neck for a day. 

If it had been on the front or side of his neck, he would’ve felt less bad about it, but the back of his neck, under his nape, that, that was too intimate. Someone had to be in a more than casual position to give that to him. Unless they were just a total freak. 

And it didn’t stop there. Matthew lifted the hem of Taerae’s shirt that night as well, revealing some of his back. The two marks at the bottom, near his ass, were there still. Then, when he pulled the material up even further, there were more. Fresh ones. Littered across his back, red and probably stinging to the touch. Maybe if Matthew was more sane, he’d worry that his husband had been attacked by something or someone. Maybe they were bug bites. Maybe a bee sting. But no, it was still January. The bugs weren’t out to play. And these love marks were hidden out of sight for no one to see — no one except Matthew and the other man. 

Matthew stared at Taerae’s sleeping frame, the space in their bed that belonged to him. The material of his thin t-shirt slipped out of Matthew’s fingers by accident, leaving his hand floating in the air. Matthew hated it all. He hated that Taerae had been just as dissatisfied with their relationship — and had did something about it first. This was low, evil, twisted. Had that been what Matthew deserved for his intrusive thoughts? He didn’t know. 

Taerae expected Matthew to not hurt him after being damaged so badly. That was the standard everyone held him to, but no one ever said anything about Taerae hurting Matthew. 

4:32 am. Matthew gained consciousness again. Taerae wasn’t doing the flirting, he realized. But he was letting it happen. That was still just as bad.

Matthew was unable to eat his food. 

“It’s fine. You’re allowed to go out,” he said, setting his fork down and reaching for his glass of water.

He saw Taerae perk up in his seat out of the corner of his eye. Like a prairie dog. “Yeah..but-”

Matthew cut him off when he stood up from his seat, catching them both off guard by the abrupt screeching noise the feet of the chair made against the floor. “Hey, I’ve gotta head to work now. Can you wrap this up for me and put it in the fridge?”

Their eyes connected for the first time that day, not lasting for very long. Matthew turned away from him, pushing his chair back into its space under the table. 

“Yeah, of course,” Taerae said. “Have a good day.”

There’s nothing quite like the city cold. Yes, the city cold and not the cold city. If you live in the city, you’ll understand. Matthew’s pack-up puffer is not a lot and too much at the same time. He’s lucky that the most interaction he has with outside is getting in and out of his car — strolling across the parking garage to get to the building’s side entrance. Once you get high up enough in his company, they give you an assigned parking space towards the front. Less walking for him. Corporate treats people well sometimes. 

“Hey!” someone nearby shouts. 

Matthew turns his face to the side slightly, glancing behind him, but doesn’t stop walking. There’s Hanbin, jogging up next to him with his cross-body bag, cigarette pinched between his lips. American Spirit, probably. 

“Running late? You’re always here before me,” Matthew comments once he gets to the door. He strays off to the side so he doesn’t block it, knowing that if Hanbin is smoking they can’t enter together. 

Matthew recoils, just a little, when Hanbin exhales too close to him. It isn’t like he’s not used to it or anything. Hanbin always smokes. Well, he didn’t always, but he started a few years ago. The smell lingers on him from time to time. That box of mints in his bag and in his office does a decent job of covering it up. 

“Hyung, you should stop,” Matthew says, nodding his head at him, “it makes you less attractive,” he half-jokes.

Hanbin sort of laughs. “I bet it does.” 

He is attractive — strikingly so. His skin is spotless, smooth looking. The blonde hair he decided to commit to starting last month suits him more than his natural dark hair. He looks friendly. But these days, there was something about him, the side he would show when it was just them or when he thought no one was paying attention. Hanbin looked just like any other unpleasant city folk. Gruffy. Bothered by the day that had barely begun. That was something that came with age, Matthew thinks. They’ve been best-friends for years. Hanbin, at 28, near 30 years old, is going through something. Matthew is too. Shit.

Matthew watches him snub his cigarette out on the ashtray attached to a nearby trashcan – taking that as a sign to head inside. He checks his watch. 8:01. He is unfortunately dreading getting to his desk and seeing everything waiting for him. He didn’t catch himself up to speed like he usually does on Sunday’s because of-stuff. Stuff.

“You’re weird today,” Hanbin casually comments as they step into the elevator and out of the entrance hallway. Matthew glances at where he’s pulling out his container of mints. He pops one into his mouth, then scans his key card on the sensor.

Matthew tightens his grip on the strap of his satchel. Then the elevator starts moving. He looks up at the number slowly, but surely increasing. Hanbin’s making a lot of noise shuffling around with his bag. It’s randomly making Matthew anxious.

Different. Is he different? The elevator rumbles a little as it goes up. Matthew’s fingers twitch suddenly, randomly, really. Then, he’s remembering what it felt like to touch Taerae’s bruised skin last night. 

“How so,” Matthew says in response, swallowing down his nerves, keeping his gaze fixed on the increasing number. The 35th floor is their destination. They’re on the 8th. 

Hanbin’s beady eyes are cutting through the side of his face now. He can feel them. “Everything alright with Taerae?”

When he says his name, Matthew kind of feels sick all over again. He barely touched the food — the apology breakfast — that Taerae made for him this morning, but he felt nauseous. The tiny bits he did eat are threatening to come up. 

“He’s the only person you interact with so I’m assuming it has something to do with him,” Hanbin continues when he doesn’t respond.

“That’s not true, I’m here nearly everyday.” Is he suggesting that Matthew has no life or something?

“Work doesn’t count.”

“So you don’t count?”

Hanbin shakes his head. “Not really, when’s the last time we hung out, huh? Think about it.”

Matthew doesn’t. Because he knows Hanbin is right. They don’t really hang out outside of work anymore. Can he really even call them best friends still? He does have no life outside of Taerae and work.

“Shit-okay, don’t start brooding thinking about it. I was just kidding. We’re adults, you're not obligated to hang out with me,” Hanbin says suddenly, with a dry laugh — a ha. 

Matthew shrugs. “No, you’re right though. We should hit the bar, like old times.”

“Today?” Not exactly what he was suggesting, but Matthew figures any time away from Taerae is for the better.

“Why not.”

“‘Kay. I’ll come by your office after,” Hanbin says. Matthew finally meets his gaze and surely enough Hanbin is still looking at him with this curious expression — because Matthew is ‘different’ today. Whatever. Hanbin will most likely shake the truth out of him tonight. It's been a while since Matthew complained about his problems to people anyway. He should probably get a therapist.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open next. “Oh, and the interns come today, by the way.”

Fuck, Matthew thinks. He’s running that whole program this year; he completely forgot. “Why am I doing that again and not you?” 

Hanbin is in a higher position than him and has been an employee longer and has run the intern program before. Why was there a need for a sudden switch up?

He smiles, tongue digging into his cheek. “Why would I do something when I can recommend you to do it instead?” he jokes.

They step out the elevator and Hanbin darts in the opposite direction, maybe to the copy room. “Interns come in at 9:30! Check your email!”

Fortunately, Matthew’s virtual calendar got blocked off for him for today’s intern orientation (maybe by Hanbin). He’s taking the role of being the recruiter-intro-guy that shows everyone the ropes and does boring powerpoint presentations about how the next few months will go for them.

They said Matthew would be good for the job, for the same reasons he was hired in the first place. Matthew is friendly. Conversational. Easy going. Nice-looking. And most importantly, he’s been in the shoes of an intern — a college student hoping to find their way. Except trying to find a job with a bachelor’s degree is useless and won’t work unless you know someone. That was the hard truth he had to learn. What got you a job was years of experience not a single degree. Interning at places doesn’t guarantee you anything except for a tiny portion of said experience and quick money. These college kids and non-traditional students should be prepared to get those dreams crushed.

When did I get so negative? He should probably pull the stick out of his ass before people start getting here. He has to sell the experience, because that’s his job. Matthew loves his job, most of the time.

Matthew works his way down the tight hall that leads to the conference room and flicks all the lights on when he gets there. It holds 50 people max, today there will be about 15 or so. Some other guy in another department does the actual hiring process so he has no idea what to expect. The intern Matthew had last go around was a man much older than him who he felt weird about explaining things to. It was part of the job. Part of the job.

However, because he’s doing this part, leading the week-long orientation, he’s getting off scotch free with no intern this year. Thankfully. He has enough on his plate. He’s not exactly the kind of guy to find joy in laying all of his work onto a college student so he can get a break. There’s the possibility that they could do it wrong anyway. And he’s not the kind of guy who really wants to mentor anyone. That’s just more unwanted pressure. 

Matthew does enough to set up. He’s never been that good at public speaking despite being so outgoing, but he’ll get by. Reading words off a screen and faking some enthusiasm will be simple. He can tough it through. 

By the time he’s done, around 20 minutes before people start shuffling in, his phone vibrates in his pocket. 

Taerae

[9:07 am]- Good luck today!

Matthew stares at the words in silence. His fingers move to type some sort of response, but he ends up deleting it, then trying again, then deleting that next. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t.

They’ll love him, Matthew thinks about the boy.

Currently he’s sitting in the last chair of the front row. Legs crossed, arms crossed. He successfully got through his opening presentation and let all of the interns do a round of introductions. It’s kind of high-school-ish-presentation-ish really, but a much needed icebreaker. In fact, he should really be darting down each of their names on a sheet of paper, or maybe into his phone right now. There’s 18 of them to remember. He’ll need some help.

But this one, this intern, Matthew will most likely remember. 

The first thing he notices is that he’s taller than the rest. He stands with confidence, but his fingers fidget with the bracelet on his wrist. He also uses his hands to talk a lot which is usually a sign of nervousness. His button up fits nicely, but also doesn’t at the same time. It sits on his figure in a way that shows he doesn’t put them on often, but only Matthew and maybe someone’s mom would be able to notice. The broad shoulders distract you from it. But he’s lanky. Boyish looking. It kind of makes him want to laugh.

And he’s handsome, Matthew notices, not immediately, it kind of creeps up on him when the boy turns a certain way — when he grins a certain way and gives him a good view of his face. His smile reveals a straight set of teeth made from braces. He can tell. His father is a dentist.

The boy’s voice isn’t as deep as he expected. He talks with this sort of natural ring in it, as if he’s excited about something. It’s a contrast from his look: tan-ish skin, dark hair parted lazily in the middle, prominent eyebrows. His eyes are large, really large — babyish almost. They squint when he smiles, but open back up when he gets serious. Matthew missed the part where he said how old he was. 

“Anyway, that’s me. Park Gunwook.”

Park Gunwook. It’s also written on his name tag sticker. Matthew’s eyes dart down to that then back up to his face. Gunwook is staring at him. Maybe because he’s done. Maybe Matthew is the one in charge here — the one he needs to make a good impression on. Gunwook smiles slightly, lopsided, and puts his hands in his pockets before walking back to his seat. 

Matthew sits up in his chair and looks around. “Was that the last one?”

An unsynchronised chorus of yes’s and yeah’s and think so’s come after. Matthew clasps his hands together and stands from his seat. 

“You’re dismissed for lunch.”

Matthew hasn’t been to a bar in years. Three, to be exact. 

The last time he went, he was in his last year of his Law program. Alone. Probably depressed because you only go to a bar alone when you’re depressed. He was probably thinking of Taerae and hating on his relationship with Park Hanbin in his head. That was his usual routine back then. It was kind of pathetic. 

He thinks he maybe made out with a woman who was much older than him. In a dingy small hallway that led to the bathrooms. Probably didn’t smell good, but she kissed well. It was comforting, at the time for Matthew, who really needed that.

“You’re spacing out,” Hanbin says, waving a few fingers in front of his face. He’s on the stool next to him, throwing back another shot of something Matthew can’t remember the name of. Like he said, he didn’t really have the intention of coming out and getting drunk tonight, but this may just be what he needs to take the edge off.

He thinks that, but still makes no attempt to reach for the glass next to him. It’s been untouched since the moment it was given to him. Hanbin paid for the round of shots too; he’s gonna kill him, or if he’s feeling nice, he’ll just flick him.

Hanbin sits his glass down, eyes falling down to where Matthew’s hands rest in his lap. He’s been fiddling with his wedding band unintentionally. 

“Matthew, just tell me what’s wrong,” Hanbin says, eyes softening as he looks back up. 

What isn’t wrong, Matthew thinks, because seriously he feels like he’s been sucked into a whirlpool for the last three days. The unknown and unconfirmed are ugly things to be burdened with. He’s mad. Angry. Sad. He feels betrayed, and it’s all over something that isn’t confirmed. Technically, at the end of the day, all that makes him is: paranoid. Paranoid and insecure.

“Hyung, do you think I got married too early?” 

Hanbin wasn’t expecting the question based on the expression his neutral face shifts into. Matthew doesn’t blame him, he doesn’t really talk about these kinds of things. They don’t talk about them. 

“Honest truth, please,” Matthew adds on, finally getting the courage to pick up his shot and drink it quickly. It burns his throat, unsatisfyingly good. He knows he’ll need it for whatever Hanbin will say. He never had a problem laying it on thick.

He’s older than Matthew, by a year, and unmarried, with no intention to be so anytime soon. He lives a nice, comfortable life as well, because he works hard at his job. He still has time for play, to get around, and live the no strings attached lifestyle. It doesn’t suit him, in Matthew’s opinion. Because he knows Hanbin is someone with big dreams, and he had always talked about wanting a family and settling down eventually. Two girls, to be specific. But that was when they were 20. Things change. 

Hanbin kind of stares at him for a moment, leaning in closer. “What happened between you and Taerae?” He already asked him that earlier, but Matthew never gave him an answer.

“Why won’t you answer my question?”

Hanbin squints. “Answer mine first.”

It’s not easy — to decide how to say it. How he presents the information could ruin Hanbin’s squeaky clean perspective of Taerae. For something he’s not even sure of, he probably shouldn’t say it like it’s for certain, right?

Wrong. “He’s cheating on me.”

Hanbin immediately looks bewildered at the information. Matthew understands. This scenario seemed impossible for them — Matthew and Taerae. Unlikely friends turned sweethearts. They were soulmates. A perfect story of opposites attract. They belonged together. And Taerae gave off the vibe of being someone who was loyal and would stick to one partner. He didn’t exactly get around before they were together and before he dated Park Hanbin. That was the kind of guy Matthew was, funnily enough. Living off of flings and one-night stands. 

Matthew shuts his eyes, fingers still pinched around the shot glass, because it’s too hard just to even think about this. “I know he is, okay,” he says next. He actually doesn’t, but at the same time he does. 

“How?” Hanbin shakes his head in confusion, staring at something past Matthew’s head for a slight moment. “That…I feel like…Taerae wouldn’t do that to you.”

Denial. Matthew was there too, for a good day. “I didn’t think he would either, but people change and stuff.” He's saying and thinking that a lot, about how people change. Is that something he just has to accept now?

Hanbin looks kind of sad. “But…with who?”

“Don’t know,” Matthew says. As much as he would like to pin it on Kim Jiwoong, and possibly see if Hanbin knows of him and his reputation, he figures he’d be better off without that information tonight. He doesn’t want to hear something and spiral any further. “Older guy I think, 30-something.” 

“Ah,” Hanbin nods slowly. Something just processed. What was it? Matthew squints at him. “What are you ahh-ing for?”

“You need another drink,” Hanbin says stiffly, before laughing nervously and sliding one of the glasses he ordered over to Matthew, “maybe two,” he says, waving over the bartender. 

Hanbin met Taerae before Matthew did.

They’re from the same home town and ran in the same circle of friends despite having different interests. Then Hanbin moved to the city before he graduated high school and that’s how he and Matthew met. It wasn’t until freshman year of college, when Taerae and Hanbin reunited, that's when they truly became friends.

Then that’s how Taerae and Matthew became friends — through a mutual one. Hanbin was busy in college and very social and active in multiple organizations, he didn’t have that much time to sit around and hang out with them — Matthew and Taerae — who chose to spend their freshman year differently. So naturally, Matthew and Taerae became closer. That was their story.

“You’re telling me I’m not Taerae’s physical type?” Because he’s had about three shots and another specially made for him drink, Hanbin’s words aren’t processing that well. Or, he’s not accepting them that well.

Hanbin pinches the bridge of his nose like Matthew’s the one being the burden. He hates that. Matthew is in the position to be dramatic. To feel this way. “Matthew, you know that’s not what I said.”

“You might as well.” 

Hanbin had just spent the last few minutes telling Matthew all about the kinds of guys Taerae had crushes on in high school and in college. Some of them Matthew knew of, but had never thought about seriously until this moment. Some of them were before Matthew’s time, things Taerae had never shared with him. Taerae liked tall, older looking guys, apparently. Matthew was neither of those things.

“And whatever, Park Hanbin isn’t anything special, or better than me. What about him?” Matthew asks, picturing the man in his head. 

“He’s taller than Taerae, and you're not,” Hanbin points out.

“Okay, should I just kill myself then? Or what? Taerae’s cheating on me because I’m average?”

“No, Matt. I’m sorry,” Hanbin apologizes as his eyes shut. He kind of busts out laughing, as if he’s unable to hold it in. “I’m drunk already. Honestly.”

“It’s fine,” Matthew says, not really wanting to be that friend tonight, who ruins the good time, “the truth is better anyway.”

“Not always. I don’t mean to be an asshole. Seriously. And I know Taerae loves you for who you are.”

The words don't make him feel better. Taerae is still sleeping or messing around with someone else, even if he loves Matthew for who he is! Bullshit.

“But…but, but, but,” Hanbin chants out, “we all have a shallow side to us, you know that,” Hanbin says, “and sometimes we yearn for something our partner can’t give us.” Matthew then notices the distant look in his eyes and wonders if he’s speaking from experience — thinking of someone. For some reason he doesn’t really like that. Hanbin’s past flings and relationships hardly apply to Matthew’s literal crumbling marriage. 

He’s drunk. Hanbin’s drunk. They shouldn't have this conversation with each other. Neither of them are built for it right now.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Matthew announces after he hops down from his stool, which was kind of out of order.

Once he’s through the crowd and half-way down the hallway, Matthew realizes that he’s about to cry. The sob is bubbling up at the bottom of his throat and threatening to release. He’d rather it be vomit. That would make this less embarrassing — make him feel less vulnerable. 

And Hanbin’s following him to the bathroom. Matthew knows because he can hear the sound of his voice getting mixed into the crowd. When he reaches the door there’s hands on his shoulders — a body huddling behind him and holding him close. Matthew kind of pathetically dips into the corner of the bathroom when gets there, pulling his knees to his chest and crying silently. 

Hanbin’s arms wrapped around him feel nice, but it’s not enough to make all his problems go away, so ultimately it’s useless.

Matthew isn’t giving Taerae what he wants, and he won’t ever be able to after this. It sucks.

Matthew stumbles into the house around 10:00 pm. They hit the bar early and stayed there for only a few hours — conscious enough to be aware of the fact that they had work in the morning. Matthew drank on an empty stomach so he was out fast, only depending on Hanbin to sober up enough to book him an Uber home. 

He sent him off, with an expensive bottle of water from the bar to drink on his way home. Matthew kind of just fell over in the back seat and closed his eyes. Hoping the rumbling of the car didn't upset his stomach too much.

The lights are on in the house, but he doesn’t see Taerae immediately. Thank god. Matthew hobbles from the doorway to the kitchen to get some more water.

“Where have you been?”

Matthew eyes blink up to where Taerae’s now standing at the entryway to the kitchen. He’s in his robe that he wears from time to time. Usually Matthew would call him cute in that, but no. He knows that if he were to tear that off of him right now, there would be all kinds of bites and hickeys on him. Taerae left the house today, he saw. He got picked up by someone. Matthew can assume what he did. He’s so shameless.

“Bar,” Matthew mumbles as he looks away, continuing to sip his water. He should stay calm and collected.

“I’ve been calling you and texting you all night. You couldn’t have told me where you were going and what you were doing?”

Yes, because that’s something we do with each other, Matthew has enough control not to say aloud. “Sorry. I was with Bin-hyung, we haven’t hung out in a while.”

“What about my text this morning though?” Taerae presses on, moving closer and more into the light. Matthew doesn’t like that, he can see he has nothing underneath his robe. He can see his collarbones and where his chest begins. No, he feels sick.

He sits his glass down, grimacing a bit at the way nausea buzzes through his body. “Saw it. I was busy.”

“You couldn’t have responded?”

“Have I ever bitched at you about this before?” Matthew blurts out because he literally can’t take it anymore. And he doesn’t regret it, because what was Taerae even talking about? They had never been so strict about texting. Matthew has texted him and gotten left on read before and said nothing about it. What exactly was the problem? 

Taerae’s lips thin out. “I’m not bitching at you,” he says defensively, even though that's exactly what he's doing. He walks a bit closer. Matthew hates it even more. He just got out of the shower, he can tell based on how his skin is decorated with water droplets. His hair is damp and needs to be dried properly. Matthew would offer to help, if it was any other day. 

“I just, you were being kind of weird this morning." Taerae frowns.

First he’s different, then he’s weird. Fine, Matthew has never been the best at letting his behavior go unaffected by his feelings. But even if he wasn’t going through all of this, he should be allowed to have his off days. 

“Sorry, I just didn’t feel well today. I guess.”

“And you went out to drink? Do you have a fever?” Taerae asks, face worried. He reaches forward, to put his palm on Matthew’s forehead. Matthew immediately backs away. No. When Taerae does that, the straps of his robe loosen, and makes the top fall open slightly. He can see a hickey that looks fresh just under his collarbone. He can’t be serious. 

Matthew gags. And it’s an ugly sight. He rushes over to the kitchen sink and just, kind of throws up everything he drank into it. It’s better than throwing up food at least. At least it’s clear. None of that stops Matthew from feeling like shit though. 

To make matters worse, Taerae comes up behind him and rubs his back, trying to soothe him. It's doing nothing of the sort. “You are sick, look. Listen to me.”

Because of you, Matthew thinks. Tears prick at his eyes from the pressure he just put on his throat from doing that. He closes them, then feels himself wobble slightly, and finally, he blacks out. 

Matthew wakes up with a monster of a headache and a hand pressed to his cheek. 

“Ah, don’t move so much,” a voice says.

It’s Taeare. And he can see that it’s Taerae when he opens his eyes. “Wha…” Matthew croaks out taking in where he is. Still in their bed. Matthew squints out the window and sees the sun bright in the sky. Shit, what time is it?

He sits up abruptly, causing Taerae to flinch back. “Where’s my phone? What time is it?” he rushes out, eyes still squinted with sleep.

“You can’t go to work today, honey, you’re sick.”

Matthew ignores that and the rest of the comments against him getting up and doing — what — anything? He’s still stuck on the fact that Taerae didn’t make sure he got up for work. Did he purposely turn off his alarm or something? Taerae always makes sure Matthew gets up when he’s risking running behind. 

He spots his phone in the chair in the corner of their bedroom, pressing on the screen when he gets there. 9:05. Fuck him.

“Taerae, you couldn’t have woken me up for work?” Matthew sighs, posture going sluggish. His headache is still bothering him, so he won’t waste time getting too mad. All he needs to do is just start getting ready.

“Do you ever just sit down and listen? Your body is telling you to let it have one day.”

Matthew scowls at him. He has a hangover, not the flu. “Not going to work isn’t an option for me,” Matthew responds, like it’s common knowledge. He glances at Taerae one more time and wonders just what he is even doing. By now he’s always in the office on his call with his coworkers or doing his projects. Why is he just sitting around like he’s Matthew’s housewife right now? In fact he’s been doing that a lot recently. Is that what he wants to be? Is that the problem?

He renders continuing the conversation useless, hurrying into their bathroom and starting the shower against Taerae’s wishes not to.

Matthew makes it into his office a little after the second day of orientation starts. He very deeply regrets hitting the bar last night and leaving his car here, at the parking garage. It made for a very awkward few minutes waiting for his Uber to come pick him up. Taerae kept trying to talk to him, but Matthew didn’t really want to so he kept dryly responding like they were making small talk.

The pings coming from his computer catch his attention when he walks in. Matthew bends over to shake his mouse to get his monitor to blink on. He has three Microsoft Teams messages. 

Sung Hanbin 

[9:44] - got someone 2 cover 4 u but why r u late

[9:44] - hangover was that bad???

[9:45] - u should fix your tie, u look like u overslept [gif]

Matthew has enough room in his mind to laugh at Hanbin’s messages.

Hanbin’s office is coincidentally positioned parallel to Matthew’s. They all have glass windows too because — he doesn’t know — you can’t work in a financial institution with privacy, okay. 

When he looks up, surely enough Hanbin is staring at him with a smile. He makes a goofy face before waving.

Matthew throws a hand up as a wave back before walking over to the mirror that’s positioned on his wall. Good thing he has it for emergencies like this. And, as he expected, he looks like a mess. Great. Matthew runs his hands through his hair, doing his best attempt at taming the sort of bird's nest that is. It’s getting too long really. He should cut it. 

He does his tie next, then turns to Hanbin across the way and does a thumbs up and then a thumbs down, asking him to choose wordlessly. His computer goes ping! again. 

Sung Hanbin

[9:50 am] - looks good 

“Okay, uh. What did…” Matthew snaps his fingers, three times to be exact, as he tries to figure out which employee took over for him for the first hour of today. 

The interns gaze at him, some look away from him and back down to their pamphlets. Matthew laughs suddenly, out of sheer embarrassment. “Okay, forget that. What did you guys do before lunch? That’s what I’m trying to ask.”

They’re a shy group. Which doesn’t make sense for people who want to work in what’s practically a section of Sales. Matthew briefly warmed himself up to date with his training plan, but things get out of place all the time. 

A girl in the front row speaks. “We just watched a couple of videos.”

“Okay,” Matthew nods to himself, “cool, cool.” Videos are nice. Nothing too fancy that he has to catch up with. They were probably the typical introduction videos that glaze over the real experience here. 

“Group yourselves off into fours or...threes. We’re gonna do a few more activities before taking a tour of the building.”

He keeps catching Matthew’s eye. 

That could be because Matthew finds this insanely boring and leeches onto any entertainment he can find. His source of entertainment is one intern.

Matthew’s kind of naturally pacing around the room, just listening into conversations over shoulders and making sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. It’s all for show. He’s never been a stickler for staying on task. When he checks on group three, the one on the left side of the room, he has a perfect view of Park Gunwook.

He’s…interesting. He’s sitting in the middle of his groupmates — two girls — who seem more than interested in what he has to say. Those were the privileges that came with being handsome and tall, but that’s not what’s interesting. Of course it helps, don’t get him wrong. But his body language and mannerisms keep intriguing Matthew. The way he’ll shyly scratch at the back of his neck or how he’ll hold his hand up and twist his bracelet around his wrist as he talks.

When Matthew lingers by their group, he actually does listen in. Usually it’s Gunwook talking. He said something about being on the debate team in high school one time. Another time Matthew catches him saying he’s on the Sales team at his college. 

He’s not an ordinary guy, Matthew quickly figures out. He’s top of his class. Smart, but still charming and not closed off from being sociable. Like Matthew thought yesterday, they’ll love him. There’s no doubt about it. Kind of like how they loved Matthew. 

About three minutes before the timer on Matthew’s watch goes off, Gunwook meets his gaze across the room. He doesn’t look away like Matthew expects him too. 

“So should we follow Taerae around?” Hanbin asks the moment they step into the elevator one day after work. Matthew shoots him a look, like, are you kidding or are you serious?

“Tail him? He barely goes anywhere,” Matthew responds, laughing. Well, he used to not go anywhere. Now he’s leaving the house everyday during his lunch break. It’s weird.

“You’re laughing, but it’s a good idea,” Hanbin shrugs. “Give him an opportunity to go somewhere.”

They haven’t talked about this since that night at the bar. Matthew unspokenly swore off against it. He had to stop making his problems other people’s problems. And if anything, talking about it only made it worse. “I don’t know,” Matthew says uneasily, unconvinced. 

“Cameras in your house?”

“Like, put them up?”

“Sure. Spyware. He works from home. Who knows what he’s doing while you’re gone.”

That would be time and money and Matthew’s not really sure how he’d even be able to get away with that. Taerae is more observant than Hanbin thinks. He shakes his head in disagreement. 

“Tap his phone?” Hanbin offers once they reach their parking garage floor. Matthew laughs, actually amused this time, as he steps out. 

“Everything you just mentioned is probably illegal by the way.”

“I know. Sometimes you have to get illegal when it comes to these things.” Matthew scoffs. Hanbin jogs a little so he’s not left behind when he continues walking. 

“I’m serious Matthew, you’re my best friend. I’d do anything to help you out.”

“You’ve known Taerae longer though.”

“That’s true, but you know what they say. It’s not about who you’ve known for the longest, but who came and stayed…or something.”

Matthew laughs. “We’re not doing this. Or anything for that matter.”

“This is weird,” Hanbin points out, “usually you’re the impractical one. I feel annoying right now.”

“You are annoying.”

Matthew is unable to really get away from Hanbin this evening like he usually is when they’re off work. They end up in the front seat of his car — Hanbin in the passenger's seat. Once again, he figures he has no real intention of getting home quickly. So this is an okay detour.

“Wow, it's really clean in here. Mine looks like a mess,” Hanbin comments, gazing into Matthew’s backseat.

“Taerae gets mad if trash piles up in here.”

Hanbin nods. “Right, right. He’s always been kind of fussy, huh? Let’s get back to the plan.”

Matthew can’t help but laugh again. What they’re doing right now seems like something they’d do when they were 18. They probably have before. Matthew has a hazy memory of them sitting in Hanbin’s old pickup truck as they waited for freshman orientation. Matthew was so nervous. Hanbin was coming up with ideas for how they would make their entrance to calm him down.

“Do you even know how hard it would be if I actually did any of this-let alone Taerae finding out? I’m not even sure if it’s true,” Matthew says, but he kind of feels like he’s speaking to himself, trying to convince himself. What if it’s not true? What if he made it all up in his head?

“So what got you paranoid in the first place?”

Paranoid. It's worse to hear someone else say it. He is paranoid, isn’t he? “A guy was flirting with him, at a cocktail party I don’t know,” Matthew says, feeling stupid. 

“In front of you? Who was it?”

“Some man who hangs around country clubs,” Matthew still doesn’t know what he does for a living. His eyes trail to Hanbin. “Kim Jiwoong?”

Hanbin suddenly makes this face. A face that Matthew was praying to God that he wouldn’t make once he said his name. 

“What?” Matthew asks. Hanbin looks away from him, turning in his seat even. Seriously? Matthew latches onto his arm. “Hyung, what? Do you know him?” he whines. 

Hanbin looks at him. “Is that who you think Taerae is cheating on you with?”

“Yeah…Taerae keeps coming home with hickeys on him and stuff,” Matthew says, voice laced with distaste.

“Taerae is probably cheating on you,” Hanbin decides, officially looking convinced as if he wasn’t already there. Matthew just wants to know why. But when Hanbin gets silent like that it’s a little scary. 

"That's just great," Matthew mumbles to himself. Just great.

It was the life Taerae yearned for deep down. Matthew figures that out quickly. 

The small shorts. The polo shirts. A pair of raybans buried in his hair. The smell of country club air. Mimosas at brunch.

Taerae had always been on the more pretentious side, but not anything that would make Matthew completely rule him out as a friend. There was no problem with liking the higher things in life and carrying yourself a certain way. Matthew liked Taerae because that wasn’t a persona he could uphold all the time. He slipped up, unconsciously. Taerae liked video games and staying inside more than he did tanning. He was awkward but poised. He didn’t always know how to put together an outfit without someone’s help. 

Those sides of Taerae were slipping away, they have been for a while.

Matthew sinks against his pillows on their bed, phone in his hand. Taerae’s seated at the vanity in their room, doing his night time routine. He has his airpods in and is on the phone with someone, based on the way he keeps talking outloud. Matthew isn’t able to follow the conversation well since he can’t hear the other person, but Taerae keeps laughing, and it’s not the shrill obnoxious one that he usually does, it's more cute, like a giggle. 

Matthew gets this weird flashback to college. Back when Taerae was his roommate on a trip they took across the country with Hanbin. Taerae was on the phone all night chatting with someone again. It had to be a guy based on the way his face kept getting red. Kind of like now. 

Funny. Matthew forces himself to look away from him and back to his phone, sinking into the bed further.

“Are we okay?” Taerae says, a little half past 10:00 as he climbs into bed. Matthew can’t see him because he’s turned away. Half of his face is stuffed into his pillow, the other half only sees the wall and his window. 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” He murmurs back. Taerae shifts. The bed creaks, then finally stops. Matthew wonders if he’s facing him or facing away. If he’s facing him, will he touch him? They haven’t cuddled in their sleep for days now. It’s like sharing a bed with someone you barely know. 

He’s lying also, asking why they wouldn’t be okay. There’s an obvious invisible wall between them right now that Matthew wont let Taerae knock down. He’s pulling away.

Taerae doesn’t respond for at least an entire minute. It makes Matthew think he’s gone ahead and gone to sleep. 

“Ever since that night we argued, I’ve felt like something’s wrong.”

Something is wrong. Something is obviously wrong. It's fucked. All of it. “We fixed that.”

“I know, but-”

But what? What could he possibly want from Matthew? He’s obviously taken it upon himself to go find someone else. So what does he want? An apology for getting upset?

Matthew suddenly has this urge to just ask Taerae if he likes Jiwoong. Just throw it out there. But he doesn’t want to start an argument he’ll have trouble finishing. Matthew’s not dumb. He knows he can’t accuse Taerae of cheating with no solid proof. 

“I just miss you,” Taerae says, sadly. It makes Matthew sad too, in a way. 

After he says that, Taerae scoots over, pressing his chest to Matthew’s back, in a similar manner Matthew had done all those nights ago. Matthew just lets himself be wrapped in Taerae’s arms, knowing there's not point of pushing him away. If he pretends, maybe he can convince himself nothing is wrong.

“I’m just stressed with work recently. Running the intern program and all,” Matthew says. Which is half true. 

“I get it.”

“I miss you too,” he says back. Because he does. He misses the version of Taerae that was loyal to him. He’s gone for good, Matthew assumes. 

“Tail him.”

“Wow,” Hanbin responds. He’s at the office already, because Matthew can hear a phone ringing in the background. “What prompted the change?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.” Matthew taps his finger on the steering wheel, taking an exit he doesn’t usually just to avoid traffic. “Hyung, do you know a guy?”

“I always know a guy.”

Matthew chuckles. Hanbin has some diverse connections. Sometimes it feels like he lives an entirely different life Matthew has no idea about. “Okay.”

“It’ll be fine, he’s good at what he does. Get you what you need to know.”

“It feels like we’re in a movie.”

“You practically are living through one right now. I gotta go. See you when you get here."

It’s Thursday. Interns choose who they want to shadow for the next few months today. It’s a pretty simple process: they write down three names on a slip — in the order of who they want, most to least, then someone in HR pairs them up with employees. 

Matthew’s ready to bid them all farewell and thank them for an easy-sailing orientation week. Seriously, he was kind of tuned out of it all because of his own life, but it really wasn’t that hard to do.

Though, around three in the afternoon, after interns have been officially dismissed for the day and Matthew is back in his office doing work, there’s a knock on his door. 

It was to be polite, he guesses, even though his door remains open, welcoming anyone to walk in. Matthew’s eyes flick up to find Gunwook standing in his doorway. 

First thing that Matthew thinks is that this is weird, for some reason. They have never spoken to each other technically, not directly. Sometimes they’d lock eyes across the room, but technically Matthew was doing that with everyone, kind of. He hopes Gunwook didn’t notice him staring at him more frequently than others. That would be embarrassing.

“Mr. Matthew?” Mr. Matthew. He wants to laugh. He told the interns that just Matthew was okay and that titles didn’t mean much around here. They had a pretty laid back group culture at their company. 

Matthew rises from his seat, just to be polite, and make it less tense. “Yeah, what’s up?” he says. Again, the first time they’ve ever spoken to each other, or really stood this close to each other. Gunwook kind of, and he’s not even exaggerating, towers over him. "You can just call me Hyung, by the way, it's fine."

He takes the opportunity to observe his outfit today. Matthew’s not sure if there was even a set dress code for interns. Just an expectation for them to know what not to wear. Halfway through the week Gunwook gave up the button up and tie look. He kept the button up, but started throwing sweaters over them instead. Yes, Matthew noticed that. Why, he's not sure.

The backpack he has looks like one he uses for school, based on the wear. Definitely expensive though — the kind of bag Matthew wished he had during that time of his life. It would have made carrying books around much easier.

“Is everything okay?” Matthew asks, with a little worry. Maybe something went wrong behind the scenes with the interns that he’s been completely oblivious to. Did he have a complaint about Matthew’s leadership skills?

“Yes…I just…had a proposition?”

A proposition. What could he possibly have to propose to Matthew? Matthew smiles a little, deciding to hitch himself against his desk. “You sound unsure of that," he says, as a joke.

Gunwook mirrors his grin, except larger. His mouth is larger. Almost all of his teeth show when he smiles. He holds up a hand in a stop motion then waves it around. “I’m not.”

“Okay,” Matthew nods, “close the door. We can talk.” 

Gunwook walks in further, pushing the door shut without looking. It slams harsher than usual, making them both kind of jump. Matthew says a little it’s fine when Gunwook looks like he’s about to apologize. 

They sit down. Matthew at his desk and Gunwook in one of the two chairs in front of it. It makes Matthew think about how it’s a rare occasion to really have anyone in here. Everything has switched to online in recent times. Virtual consultations. They have more clients across the country.

Matthew picks up a pen on his desk and clicks it a few times as his eyes lock with Gunwook’s.  Habit. He wonders if he expects Matthew to speak first. He’s also kind of nervous, more so curious, but nervous. It’s odd.

“I want to choose you, Hyung,” Gunwook says, kind of awkwardly, but with this determination. Matthew raises his eyebrows. “As my mentor.”

That was not what he was expecting to hear. Well, he doesn’t really know what he was expecting in the first place.

“I’m not on the list,” Matthew states next, placing the pen back into a cup that holds them. 

Gunwook watches him do that and nods. “I know.” So he knows, but came in here anyway to ask. 

“Which means choosing me isn’t an option…” Matthew kind of smiles at the end of that, as his eyes inch back up to Gunwook’s face. This is interesting. Why does he want Matthew of all people as his mentor? 

“I know, but you’re the only one who’s been an intern before.” That was true. Interns didn’t really have a huge possibility of getting hired. The company preferred experience and discriminated against age (there was always a way around laws forbidding that, always). He got hired half because of Hanbin, half because he hustled.

“The other employees have probably been an intern for somebody once before in their lives. Doesn’t that count for something?" Matthew asks, quite genuinely. 

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“It doesn’t matter to you…?”

“I mean it does, but I’ve read your work,” Gunwook says, “It inspired me. I want to learn from you.” Matthew leans back in his chair, twisting in it a little. Right, he has a few journals and blogs out there because he used to scroll through Financial Times every morning. He kind of likes geeking out like that, discussing what’s happening in the world and inputting his opinion. 

“Really? They’re…nothing special.” He doesn’t mean to be so humble about it, but it’s the truth. He’s not some finance mogul. His Linkedin page looks pretty important however, he’ll admit. 

“They’re special to me. I liked the one about fund management.”

That’s specific. He wrote that one two years ago. Why’d he ever stop doing those? He used to love it. Somewhere along the way he stopped having the motivation to keep up with them. It felt like no one really cared.

“That’s nice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Matthew squints. “Did you even give anyone else a chance? You can’t just make up your mind about me.” Matthew can't believe those are words coming out of his mouth right now. Someone has their mind made up on...him?

“Of course. I’m not impractical.”

Matthew was looking forward to not having an intern honestly. It would give him time to put his focus entirely to his own work. And there’s a bigger problem: having an intern that looks like Gunwook. 

His eyes are so wide, and he stares at Matthew as if he has something to prove. Why? Why Matthew and why this company? They have no place on Forbes 50 Best Employers. Matthew’s not even in the top 3 best employees here. 

“How about we both give it some thought over the weekend,” Matthew suggests, even though he can tell Gunwook’s already gave it enough thought. It’s almost funny. Endearing. “And I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I can give you my number too,” Gunwook offers, standing up when he sees Matthew standing. 

“Uh. That’s okay. Email works fine,” he laughs stiffly, feeling semi-flustered.

“Okay, I was just letting you know. Have a good one!” Matthew waves at him as he exits the room. He watches Gunwook until he’s out of sight. 

He sits back down in his chair and thinks about how he shouldn’t let that happen. At all.

On Friday, the side entrance is blocked off for cleaning, which causes Matthew to have to walk more than he'd like to. He gets out of the parking garage and around the building pretty quickly, but still runs into a crowd of other people trying to get to work. He feels so much relief when he gets inside, in the warm. Now, he just has to get to an elevator. 

He chooses to take one on the other side of the building. One he knows a lot of people don't know about. Just when he's entering into the elevator, he hears someone shout can you hold it? They're out of sight, so he can't see who, but he'd want someone else to do it for him, so Matthew holds the door. 

He's practically in a movie or something, isn't he. The way Gunwook keeps turning up in his life. He looks a little breathless, maybe he was running to catch the elevator. Matthew lets the door go, and takes a position on the opposite of the elevator to Gunwook. 

"Good morning, Matthew-hyung," he says, with a little bow. That's cute. Polite.

"Good morning, how are you?" 

"Good, good," Gunwook says with a smile. And he's just kind of staring at Matthew. Standing in the middle of the elevator. Matthew's tongue pokes into his cheek before he grins. "You gonna press the button?"

"Oh! Right, what floor are you going to?"

"The same one as you," he answers with a laugh.

"Right..." Gunwook says, under his breath. He presses the 34 button and then leans on the railing across from Matthew. 

Now, Matthew's eyes don't mean to wander, they just do, okay. He thinks Gunwook has on new clothes of some sort, or maybe just decided to start wearing other things that suit him better. He has great proportions. Proportions Matthew honestly wishes he had. 

His eyes drag up to Gunwook's face, and surely enough he's staring at Matthew, looking kind of pleased that he just caught Matthew staring at him. Matthew laughs a little, noticeably embarrassed. He turns to face the elevator doors instead. Hoping Gunwook doesn't say anything about that, or anything at all really. 

Level 16. Jeez. This elevator is slower than the one at the side entrance. Matthew glances at Gunwook again, out the side of his eye, just for safe measure. He's kind of fixing how his clothes are settled on him. Matthew glances at his hand and notices how large they are. He wonders how much larger they are than his. 

Gunwook looks up and Matthew immediately looks away. He's being kind of dumb. 

Level 25. 

"Hyung," Gunwook says cautiously. Matthew's eyebrows raise. "Yes?"

"You'll give me a chance, right?" Matthew nearly loses his train of thought at the eye-contact they're making. Even though there's a bit of space between them he can see Gunwook's long eyelashes and big brown eyes, pleading. 

"Do you want me that bad?" Matthew says, without thinking much really. Fuck that kind of sounds weird without context. Matthew feels his face heat up. He's so stupid. Before he can say, as your mentor, just to clarify, Gunwook responds.

"Yes."

Matthew glances at his mouth, the way his lips form into a lopsided grin. He should stop.

The doors open, revealing their floor. Gunwook decides to step out first. He looks over his shoulder at Matthew. "You'll email me this weekend, right?"

Matthew nods, grabbing the strap of his bag. "Of course."

“So how is the tailing going to work again?”

“Don’t worry about it. Ricky, my guy, he’ll just just hang around your house, find out what we need to know,” Hanbin says, “And you and I will be hitting the bar and the club this weekend.”

“I dunno man, the hangover got me so bad last time.” Seriously he’s gotta stop treating his body like he’s 20 still. He’s closer to 30 now. It was a truth he had yet to accept.

Hanbin nudges his arm into Matthew’s. “Suck it up. We’re keeping you occupied so Taerae has no other choice to go out too.”

“He was probably going to go out anyway,” Matthew says.

Hanbin throws his arm over Matthew’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “Party this weekend. Partyyyyy this weekend,” he sings. Matthew laughs. 

“But honestly, maybe you need to get laid. Just like I do.”

Matthew feels an itch in his throat suddenly at the comment. “I don’t…think that’s it.”

Hanbin sighs. “Matthew, tell me what you plan to get from all this, seriously. You find out Taerae is cheating and then what? Divorce him?”

Divorce would be too hard. He’d have to find a lawyer and then go to court and everything. That was one of the reasons why they always referred to marriage as a commitment to forever, because if you try to break it suddenly, it’s like going through hell. 

They could separate. Or maybe they could just agree to be friends and still act as if they’re together. It wouldn’t be too bad, right? Is he unrealistic?

Matthew shakes his head. “No, probably not.”

Hanbin pats his shoulder. “Exactly. So, if Taerae can have fun, why can’t you?”

Have fun. Hanbin holds up his finger. “Rhetorical question. I’ll text you tomorrow. And make sure you take off that ring before we go out.”

Matthew decides to come through the front door instead of the garage door, for some reason. Raising the garage door would noticeably alert Taerae that he was home. So did their tracking app, but Taerae wasn’t checking that recently. He wasn’t always staying on top of Matthew like Matthew was to him. He kind of hates that. Give him attention.

Matthew closes the door behind him, more quietly than he expected he’d be able to, and slides off his shoes, coat, and bag. 

It’s unlikely for him to catch Taerae doing anything. He got home at a reasonable time today so he’s probably just finishing up his work at his desk. Matthew walks down the hall lightly, feeling less reluctant to sneak around half-way there. Yeah, whatever. He’ll just leave it up to whatever Hanbin’s guy finds out this weekend. Catching Taerae himself would be out of the ordinary.

Then, coming from the guest room, there’s a noise. 

Matthew pulls his tie loose, eyes flickering down to the where the light peeks out from under the door. The room is usually dark. They don’t ever go in it, aside from that one time Matthew crashed in there. So this is out of the ordinary. 

He walks closer, against his better judgement, on the tips of his toes. The second sound, a whine, that he immediately identifies as Taerae’s. 

He pushes closer, standing fully outside the door now. Only a thick piece of wood separating them now. He can hear more of Taerae’s moans — slick sounds that can only be from touching himself. But it’s odd, he doesn’t hear anyone else, nothing else that would give him the idea that someone else is there. So what is he doing? Why is he masturbating mid-day in the guest room? Doesn’t Matthew have every right to barge in and ask why?

He doesn’t though. That breaks the whole facade of Matthew not knowing or being aware. He can’t let that happen right now. 

It persists for three or so more minutes. The whines, the moans, the shifting around. It feels like it lasts for hours. Then finally, Taerae laughs, kind of. 

“Okay, bye. Call me later.”

He was on the phone with someone. That makes all of this more understandable. Taerae has enough shame to have phone sex in the guest room and not their bed at least. Maybe Matthew should be grateful.

He quickly hurries away as silently as he can. Almost as if he wasn’t even there at all. 

Taerae’s cheating is so in his face that Matthew wonders if this is Taerae's way of asking Matthew to get mad at him. Maybe Taerae had a sadistic side. Maybe he was doing this to make him jealous and get what he really wants Matthew to be: possessive? No, he’s being too optimistic. Taerae wants him to find out and break up with him. Look like the bad guy when he blows up and overreacts. 

11:44 pm. Matthew glances down at the phone in his hand and then to Taerae’s sleeping figure. He hasn’t even changed his password. It’s still the same. There’s no incriminating text messages but he’s had a bunch of phone calls with someone saved in his phone as a heart emoji and no name. Taerae can’t be serious. 

Matthew turns off his phone and places it back on the nightstand, then gets into bed, scooting to the furthest side, and making sure their limbs don’t touch. 

“Hanbin-hyung and I are hanging out again at the bar, do you want to come?” Matthew mentions to him the next day, on short notice, just when he knows Hanbin is a few moments away from arriving. His payback for the time Taerae went to the country club, both times, all of the times.

It wouldn't matter. Taerae’s face scrunches up. He’s too good for the bar, and the club. Matthew knows that. 

“I’ll pass,” he says looking back down to his iPad in his lap. He’s bundled up in covers on the couch. As if he’s about to spend a cozy night there. Matthew knows that’s not what will happen. 

“How is Bin? I haven’t talked to him in a while.” It really has been a while. Matthew can’t think of the last time they’ve all been together. Maybe Taerae’s birthday last year. It's almost sad to think about how they most likely won't get that back.

“Good. I’ll tell him you said hi.”

"Sure. I hope he's well," Taerae responds.

“Tell him,” Hanbin begins, swallowing some of his drink, “I say fuck youuuuuuu Taerae!”

“You’re drunk already. Stop,” Matthew laughs into his hand.

“Good. Don’t wanna be sober,” Hanbin bitches out, sliding his glass away from him. Matthew actually had lunch today, for once, so the alcohol isn’t hitting him too hard yet. It’s there though. Definitely there. 

“The guy. Jiwoong,” Hanbin says, suddenly starting a new conversation. 

“Yeah?”

“I used to mess around with him,” he confesses. Matthew was…not expecting that. Then again he knows little to nothing about Hanbin’s dating life — he never really has. Since Matthew had Taerae, Hanbin had tip-toed around those kinds of topics, he thinks. He was the designated single friend. Maybe he had a problem with that deep down.

“And,” Hanbin pauses, shaking his head back and forth, “he’s a cheater himself, so I know he wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Cheater himself? “How long were you with him for?”

“Like a month or so?”

“He cheated on you that fast?”

“Oh no. Not on me. He had a wife. I was the homewrecker.”

Matthew blanks, mouth propped open. Hanbin laughs, letting his head fall down. His cheeks become redder if even possible. 

“This is why I never told you about it, I didn’t want you to think badly of me,” Hanbin mumbles, eyes still trained on the floor. He’s acting like an animal that’s getting scolded. He seems younger, like that. 

He’s kind of right about how Matthew thinks though. He’s had his fair share of wild relationships, but cheating just seemed too unforgivable to him. It was lying to your partner, to yourself about loving them. Everyone around him seems to treat it like this throw-away thing. Maybe that’s the way he should think about it too to avoid any more emotional damage. Fuck it.

“So Taerae is probably fucking him, you know Jiwoong’s name in his phone is saved as a heart right?”

“No way,” Hanbin laughs. “His name in my phone was a heart too, because that’s what he told me to set it as!” Hanbin looks overjoyed for a moment, then quickly mutes it, remembering that they’re talking about, what, infidelity.

Matthew just takes a sip of his drink. He’s done crying about it. Crying was for last week. “Odds just went up to 99 percent, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Matthew.” He's kind of tired of hearing that. Sympathy fixes nothing.

Matthew’s eyes wander across the bar as he listens to Hanbin babble about something to change the topic. 

It’s a place located near their company about a few minutes away. More around the downtown area. Back way when, they’d come here during happy hour on the clock, get a shot to take off the edge. Nothing crazy.

It’s nice. Popular. Lively. Decorated with a few younger people. Coincidentally, as that thought comes into his head, Matthew’s eyes land on a group of guys at a table near the window. Maybe four of them. He squints, wondering why one looks so familiar.

Oh. That’s Gunwook. 

Wait, that's Gunwook. Matthew snaps back around to Hanbin, hiding his face in his hands as he groans in dramatic agony. “Bro. The interns are here,” he says cutting off whatever Hanbin was talking about. 

“Interns?” Hanbin mumbles, looking around. He seems to quickly figure out where they’re seated and then waves at them. Matthew slams his hand into Hanbin’s stomach. 

“What are you doing?”

“Ow! Don’t hit me. What? I was just saying hi.”

“Hyung, that’s unprofessional,” Matthew hisses.

“Ahhhh, who gives a shit,” Hanbin brushes off, standing to his feet and walking towards them. Matthew does not follow and he’s thankful that Hanbin doesn’t have the mind to force him to either. Matthew faces the bar and ducks his head into the shield of his arms. Hoping that the entire interaction is over soon. Hanbin is the kind of person to offer to buy them a round of drinks. Total people pleaser. Fuck that, Matthew needs another drink himself. 

He reaches over for two shots that have gone untouched and downs them within seconds, coughing afterwards. Then, a sturdy hand grabs his shoulder suddenly, while another slaps his back. Matthew coughs into his fist, which is kind of gross, before finally feeling relief. 

“Take it easy,” a voice says from behind him.

Matthew already knows it’s Gunwook, because he’s kind of memorized the way he talks. Sometimes his voice is high pitched, especially when he’s excited. Other times, naturally he should say, it’s deep.

“Oh hey…Mr.Park,” Matthew greets as he turns his head slowly, just to be polite and professional. Even if he’s noticeably drunkish. 

Gunwook replaces Hanbin and takes the stool next to him. And Matthew doesn’t know if it’s just because he’s drunk, but, Gunwook looks really cute to him right now. He’s wearing the kind of clothes he wears to the internship. Did he dress himself up like this for a night out with his friends? 

“You can call me Gunwook. That sounded so weird,” he says, smiling. Matthew leans an arm against the bar. 

“You’ll have to get used to that in the professional world. I'm afraid to break it to you.”

“Right, but it sounds weird coming from you, Hyung. I want you to call me Gunwook.”

He wants him too. “Okay, Gunwook.”

“Have you thought about my proposal?”

Not really. Matthew’s been thinking about other stuff. Like how to confront his cheating husband or how to kill himself. Okay, dark thoughts. Too dark. 

“Sure. I’m still thinking about it.”

“What can I do to get you to say yes?” His eyes are big. Matthew always notices that when he’s talking to him. He wonders how much he’s had to drink. His cheeks are flushed bright pink. He is so cute.

“Nothing,” Matthew responds with a grin. Which is true. He still doesn’t want an intern.

“Please?” Yeah, definitely drunk. There’s no way Matthew has made a man start begging. 

“Do you want the truth?” Matthew whispers.

“If it’s bad, then no.”

Matthew laughs. “I can’t have an intern like you,” he says, pointing a finger at his face.

“Why not?” Gunwook stares his finger, then pouts.

“You’re too cute. It’s a distraction. I have a lot of work to do,” Matthew says sternly, but he laughs at himself for being so serious. Ah, he's really drunk.

“I can help you with your work,” Gunwook offers.

“You could possibly mess it up.”

“That’s the point of learning.”

Matthew observes him, wondering where someone like him has come from. “What drives you? I’m curious.” 

It was a question he always hated answering in interviews, but has grown to understand why it’s asked, sort of. Matthew grew up ordinarily. He never really faced major adversity or had anything outstanding about himself. 

“Making money,” Gunwook answers.

Matthew’s eyebrows rise. He laughs. “Making money? Okay, honest answer. I can accept that.”

“And being the best…” Gunwook drags off, “I want to be the best at what I do. I know it’s obnoxious, and...cliche, but I want to master something I’m interested in. I don’t want to die as this unremarkable person.”

The bass of the music playing kind of vibrates against Matthew’s skin. His heartbeat is in his ears now. Unremarkable. He’s wondering when life became about something other than doing what he wants. Wasn’t that what life was all about? 

“Deep,” Matthew comments, as he swallows the spit building up in his mouth. “I’m still thinking about it though.”

Gunwook groans kind of, obviously jokingly. “Hey,” Matthew laughs, poking his finger into his arm. Contact. That’s definitely the alcohol. “You’re trying to make my year harder! I was going to have an easy one for once.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. You don’t have to feel obligated. I did have other choices,” Gunwook smacks his lips and nods. Matthew suddenly feels disappointed in him having other options. Who did he put on his slip? Myung Jaehyun who works in the office next to his? He's a total newbie. Matthew would be better. 

Gunwook looks back to him, looking kind of innocent. “I just kinda like you.” Why did that sound like a confession?

“You like me?” Matthew mimics him, smiling growing on his face. Ugh. He's stupid.

Gunwook leans in. “I admire you.”

“Okay," Matthew says. He can accept this. This is okay.  "That’s nice.”

Matthew has a shallow side too. 

As he crushes his mouth to Gunwook’s he thinks it’s about time someone takes advantage of his pliant side. The bar bathroom isn’t really an ideal place to make out with someone, but Gunwook is hot, so hot, and he kisses Matthew like he’s someone important. 

Matthew can’t really see where they’re going — Gunwook’s walking them into the large stall at the corner, he assumes. Matthew stumbles because he’s not watching where he’s moving, but Gunwook is there to hold him steady. 

He quickly learns that Gunwook is very good at a lot of things while drunk: maneuvering the door of the stall open and closed with one hand, grasping Matthew’s waist with the other, all while their lips slide together. Matthew loves the force of strength, loves Gunwook pulling him into his lap as he sits on the closed toilet seat. Matthew’s thighs are warm over the sides of his. There’s heat burning between where their chests are pressed together. 

Matthew breaks their kiss. Gunwook doesn’t give him much time to think — not like he really has the ability to — but really. He lifts his hand to Matthew’s mouth — grazing his knuckles across his lips — staring at the action as he does it. Matthew’s heart beats in his chest, because something’s changing. He’s doing something that will change everything. 

“How old are you again?” Matthew asks suddenly, because he really doesn't know. And he knows it’s too late for that really, but Gunwook was in a bar. He’s in their internship program, he’s in college. He has to be at least like 19. He just assumed. Oh god, is Matthew really okay with kissing a college kid? Then this sense of shame overtakes Matthew, this vibrant nearly unstoppable urge to crawl away and hide from the world. He’s cheating, but not with an older man like Taerae. 

“20,” Gunwook answers.

Then like someone snapping their fingers to get him out of psychosis, Matthew stops caring. He shouldn’t. What’s seven years? It’s practically nothing. He brings their lips back together for another sloppy kiss. Just one, because Gunwook makes them part again

“You’re so hot. I wanna touch you all over,” Gunwook says, as he grabs Matthew’s jaw with his fingers, angling his head up so he’s able to kiss the column of Matthew’s neck. What the fuck, Matthew thinks, when he chokes out a noise he can’t keep in. He’s never been so squeaky before. Who moves people like that? Who touches people like this?

Gunwook is making him feel so, so weird. Matthew practically squirms in his lap as Gunwook’s lips drag up his throat, under and over his chin, then he’s back to Matthew’s mouth, hovering there. “I want you,” Gunwook says. And he’s obviously been whacked over the head with alcohol now, they had more drinks together over the past hour. 

Matthew brings his hands up to cup Gunwook’s face as if it’ll help him control what’s happening better, but no, Gunwook, he’s like a dog running with its leash dragging on the ground. One that just ran away from its owner. He’s brushing his lips against Matthew’s, brushing their noses together, now holding Matthew’s waist and making circles with his fingers on the skin revealed because of their position. Matthew can’t even fucking think. 

“I want you,” Gunwook says quieter this time. Matthew blinks lazily, unable to stop the way the corner of his mouth quirks up at the comment. This is a type of brash shamelessness that only someone his age could have. He wants him. They just met. Gunwook kisses him again and his lips are so slick because of what they’re doing but Matthew can tell he puts on chapstick. There’s this medical taste in his mouth, like vaseline, but it doesn’t matter. 

Gunwook’s lips are really plump too — Matthew has been staring at them all night. He thinks that maybe he’s been waiting to kiss him since the moment he sat down beside him at the bar. He kitten licks at Gunwook’s bottom lip which causes Gunwook to touch his tongue to Matthew’s. And it’s dirty, honestly, to kiss him like this. To grind his bulge down against him like this. To do it more eagerly when Gunwook dives a hand between them to palm Matthew through his pants. Matthew is getting off on a guy he met a week ago and talked to for the first time yesterday. But he kind of loves the indecent-ness of it all.

He feels like a bird that’s finally been set free. 

Matthew throws up the second he’s conscious. It’s into a trash can that happened to be beside whatever surface he’s sleeping on at the moment. He still doesn’t know where he is, he just knows it’s not at home. 

“You take hangovers so bad, we need to get you used to drinking again.” 

Hanbin. Matthew painfully squints his eyes open, grimacing at the stinging in his throat. He’s at Hanbin’s apartment, he immediately notices. On his couch. He hasn’t been here in a while. The furniture has been moved around. Some has been replaced with newer things.

“Up you go,” Hanbin says without much warning, pulling Matthew’s arm with enough power to make him stand on his feet. Matthew groans.

It’s Sunday, Matthew knows that much, so he doesn’t need to feel panic about being at work. But what about everything else? Hanbin’s leading him somewhere — the bathroom, he thinks. Matthew’s eyes are still opening and closing from sleep. His head is pounding. Did he black out last night again?

A door opens and then Hanbin is making him sit down, and then a spritz of water is being — sprayed on him?

Matthew flinches and blinks rapidly when he feels it again. He blocks his face with his hand. 

“Wake up, wake up,” Hanbin chants, spraying him a few more times. 

“Stop Hyung, I’m up. Fuck. I’m not a cat.”

He laughs. “Good. Take a shower. You know where my spare shit is at. Ricky will be here in a few.” Matthew doesn’t have a chance to respond because Hanbin is already gone. Leaving him in the bathroom alone. 

God he feels so gross. He suddenly feels bad about Hanbin cleaning up his throw up. He should apologize. Even if it’s just Hanbin. 

And it’s a shame, how well Matthew remembers everything from when he’s drunk. He remembers arguing with Taerae in the kitchen, throwing up in their sink. He remembers last night, meeting Gunwook at the bar and his big eyes. He remembers making out with him in a stall and humping his thigh. 

“Ah,” Matthew breathes out, chuckling softly as he recounts last night. He douses himself in the water streaming from the shower head next. 

So this is what it feels like to be a cheater. To feel light on his feet, like this. Maybe he should’ve done it sooner. 

Matthew dresses himself back up in his clothes from last night, that are surprisingly not as ruined and soiled as he expected them to be. When he exits the bathroom, Hanbin is sitting on the couch, next to a man who he’s never seen before.

He has black hair pushed out of his pale face. Very slender. Long-legged. He’s dressed in all black, in what looks like a suede coat, a turtle neck, and slacks. Kind of like a secret agent? Or maybe he’s just fashionable. Matthew wouldn’t know what the trends are these days if it doesn’t have to do with business casual.

“Hello,” Matthew greets him, bowing his head a little as he walks further into the room. Up close the man is handsome — classically so. Matthew thinks he should be a model instead of whatever he does.

Hanbin rises from the couch, the man follows him. “Matthew, this is Ricky.” Matthew shakes his hand, his inner suspicions being right about this being Hanbin’s ‘guy’. 

“Hey, nice to meet you,” he says, voice surprisingly soft. But Matthew feels nervous as he shakes his hand. Remembering just exactly what Ricky is supposed to find out for them — him. For him. He was so occupied last night that he completely forgot what could’ve been going on while he was not in the house. Wow, simultaneous cheating. He wonders if they’ve broken a record. 

Matthew quickly learns Ricky is a cut to the chase kind of guy. They don’t really spend time leading into it, or getting to know each other. He holds his phone screen up in Matthew’s face, showing him a series of pictures. Out of the corner of Matthew’s eye, he can see Hanbin watching them. He has this morose expression on his face. He’s already seen what Matthew’s about to, hasn’t he? 

“Do you know him?” Ricky asks, showing him the first two pictures. “He visited your house on Friday and Saturday.” It’s a zoomed in picture, obviously taken from a distance. It’s Jiwoong. Matthew has memorized his face by now because of all the time he’s spent hate-stalking him online. His Linkedin page says he’s an entrepreneur. That means he practically does nothing. 

There he was, entering Matthew’s home through the garage like he lived there. Not even in a face mask or anything. No hiding. 

In another picture Taerae is visible too, letting him into the house with the brightest of smiles on his face. Matthew still hates that. What could Jiwoong possibly be doing to make him so happy like that? 

“Yeah,” Matthew confirms, “that’s the guy who I thought he was seeing behind my back.”

Ricky glances at him, looking slightly hesitant to show him more, but it’s barely there. “I have more, but we don’t have to look at all of them, if you already know what to expect.”

It gets kind of quiet in the room after that. It’s funny almost, because it’s just him, his closest friend, and a stranger. But Matthew feels humiliated right now. He feels like everyone is secretly wondering how he could let this happen. What exactly he’s been doing that’s pushed Taerae to cheat on him so obviously. He’s a zoo animal in a cage, in front of a crowd, at the circus. A total buffoon. 

“No, I’d like to see, show me,” Matthew smiles, sadly. An attempt at making himself not look completely broken. 

The next picture is taken through a window. In it, Taerae is held in the arms of Kim Jiwoong, kissing him. 

Matthew should have no more room to feel sad. His paranoia has finally turned into reality. It’s fucking depressing, but weirdly enough at the same time, it feels good to be right. 

Again, he wishes he had done it first.

to : [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Cc: [email protected]

           Good morning! Please discard Park Gunwook’s entry slip for mentoring choices as he will be my intern for the rest of the program. Thank you.

- Seok Matthew, Investment Banker 

Matthew just happened to be staring out of his window, because that’s what he usually does on Monday mornings, sort of. At this height it’s hard to make out a lot of things that are happening on ground level. It’s like a birds-eye view. Everyone looks like ants. Cars look like toys. Trees look like plants. It’s funny. 

But Matthew can make out Gunwook moving across the crosswalk on his way to the building. He has a button up and a tie on — probably wanting to look more professional for his first official day as Matthew’s intern. Matthew’s more curious as to what he’s holding in his hands. He squints, nearly pressing his face into the glass just to try to figure out what it is, but he fails. Gunwook’s out of sight eventually anyway. 

Matthew fools around in his office as he awaits Gunwook’s arrival. He has absolutely nothing prepared for the day since this weekend was hectic. He didn’t even really expect himself to agree to letting Gunwook be his intern until, until the weekend. Now he has no other choice really. 

If he had turned Gunwook away he was risking the chance of the younger man telling someone about what they did. He didn’t really seem like the type to be so vengeful, but could Matthew really risk it? He had to keep an eye on him. Control the situation.

He’s been busy going over what he’ll say to him in his head all morning. One thing he knows is that he’ll have to apologize. He’s the older one. The one with more power and status. It’s his fault for letting things get out of control between them. It was careless. 

And waiting for Gunwook feels like forever. Matthew’s getting bored of sending gifs to Hanbin to annoy him and getting increasingly anxious. What is he, 13?

He just keeps remembering Saturday night. Playing it like a movie scene over and over and over. Gunwook is a really good kisser. Fuck, no, he can’t think that.

“Good morning Matthew-hyung.” 

Matthew turns around in his chair. Gunwook is standing in front of his desk with a cup of coffee in one hand and a…succulent in the other?

“Good morning, what’s all this?” Matthew asks, watching him sit both of them on his desk. Gunwook heads to the door and closes it, without Matthew even asking him to, which is nice. But also, why? Does that mean he has something to say that’s only for Matthew to hear? The rooms are soundproofed, luckily. That’s the only bit of privacy they can get.

“I’m trying to make a good first impression on my first day.”

Matthew takes the cup of coffee in his hand, identifying it as some from the cafe on the first floor of the building. He likes their coffee. He just tries to be financially responsible now. Six dollars a day can become 600 pretty quickly. 

“For me?” Matthew asks, just to make sure. Gunwook nods, a bright smile on his face, as he sits in the chair. He’s so comfortable, Matthew thinks as he observes him. There isn’t an inch of nervousness on his face. Does he remember what they did? Oh god, Matthew hopes he remembers. Explaining it would be embarrassing.

“Yeah, you like coffee right? Every day of orientation week one would be in your hand.” He’s referring to the mug sitting on Matthew’s mini fridge a few feet away from them. His usual morning routine is to fill that up with whatever’s in the break room. The community coffee, of course, not anyone’s personal stuff. He won’t risk getting yelled at.

“You were paying attention to me?” Matthew wants to smack himself as soon as the words come out of his mouth. Who cares if he was paying attention to him. That’s not what’s important right now.

“Of course I was.”

Matthew bites on the inside of his bottom lip. Ugh, he’s so easy, getting flattered by that. “What about this?” he says, poking the succulent. It’s a small one, like the ones they sell at farmers markets. “You got me a plant?”

“Yeah, I wanted to get you flowers, but I figured that looked like I was insinuating something.” Insinuating something. “It’s a gift. You can sit in your window sill, yours is empty,” Gunwook points out. Matthew glances behind him at it. His window sill is empty? Shouldn’t it be that way? He’s not an elementary school art teacher. Okay, he’s being rude. This is a kind gesture. His last two interns never got him anything. 

“Listen, Gunwook,” Matthew begins, trailing off. Gunwook looks like he’s actually prepared for Matthew to lay it into him. Give him the typical line about how everything they did was a mistake and how they should pretend this never happened between them. 

"I'm assuming you remembered what happened the other night?"

Gunwook nods, once. "Yes."

“I was kind of in a vulnerable state at the bar…you were too I’m sure, uh. Now that we’re coworkers and I’m your boss and stuff. I just wanted to say sorry about that.”

God. Matthew is so awkward. He’s so bad at talking these days. Everytime he opens his mouth it feels like he’s digging himself into a deeper hole.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Gunwook immediately says. Uh, yes he does? “I don’t regret anything.”

You should, Matthew thinks, but he doesn’t let it out. He has this stare-off with Gunwook for a short moment. Matthew loses when he looks away. 

“I’m married,” Matthew clarifies. There’s something in him that won’t allow this situation to be so perfect. He can’t give Gunwook the wrong idea because that would be wrong. Even if he’s crashing and burning as each day goes on, even if he now knows Taerae’s cheating him, he just can’t. He'd feel guilty. 

Them being coworkers now makes it even worse. There’s no mixing business with pleasure. Everyone knows that.

“That doesn’t change anything for me,” Gunwook says, catching him off guard. 

It should. Matthew laughs, so hard that he thinks it rattles his bones. 

“Okay, let’s just not talk about it then," he decides.

“If that’s what you want,” Gunwook says. Matthew’s eyes lock with his again, and…he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Scratch that why is he talking like he’s fishing for a response out of Matthew? That is for sure what he wants. He has a reputation to uphold. He will not mix his personal life with work. Again. He will not do it again.

Matthew looks away from him and back to his computer. He won’t admit it out loud, but Gunwook’s shamelessness is unfortunately refreshing.

For the next two weeks Matthew just gives Gunwook little easy tasks to do. Nothing that’ll take up too much of his time. That’s him trying to be considerate. Gunwook is still a college student with more important things to do than have Matthew teach him about investing. Was he being serious when he said he looked up to Matthew? This is pretty boring to the average person, no matter how much they say they love it. Matthew's never been admired before. He's not used to it.

Either way, he’s also been actively keeping his distance from Gunwook at work, but Gunwook has caught onto that and made it impossible for him to accomplish it. Matthew's learned that he’s a brat. 

“Matthew, how do I format this spreadsheet?” he asked one day. Matthew thought he was in serious need of help until he realized half way in Gunwook was just staring at his face — and down his shirt whenever he leaned over. He needs to start doing all of his buttons.

Matthew sighed. “Are you even paying attention to me?”

Gunwook nodded firmly. “Of course. Absolutely,” he responded, and then grinned. 

“Stop acting like a work himbo then,” Matthew laughed, “don’t waste my time.”

Then there was that other time, where Matthew was trying to make sure Gunwook knew how to work the copy machine. Wasting paper was something the company was actually strict about recently. 

Gunwook should’ve been standing beside Matthew as he explained which buttons to push and how to operate it, not behind him. The worst part is that Matthew didn’t notice until it was too late. He accidentally dropped an ink cartridge or something and had to bend down to pick it up.

Gunwook didn’t grope him or anything, if that’s what you're expecting to happen next. He did something even worse in Matthew’s opinion. He was close enough, for Matthew’s ass to just graze his thigh, then he immediately stepped back, with a very unbelievable sorry.

So by today, this Friday, Matthew’s mind is admittedly, a haze of desire, but he does nothing about it. It’s only the end of the second week of Gunwook being an intern and he should keep up appearances.

Matthew offers to take Gunwook out for an early dinner after they get off as a token of appreciation. Something that obviously can’t turn into anything more. A lot of the employees treat their interns to a meal. It’s good to spend time with them — to get to know them. It’s completely appropriate. 

“Is this a date?” Gunwook asks.

Matthew chokes a little on the water he’s sipping. “No, not a date.” He’s so lucky they’re still in his office. 

Gunwook is more than excited when Matthew presents the idea, asking if he gets to choose where they go, because he wants pizza really bad. Matthew laughs, because he can’t help but find him cute. The excitement is cute.

And he talks his ear off on their way to the elevator about different types of pizza. Then they start the old old argument of whether pineapple belongs on it or not. 

“I like a lot of weird things I dunno,” Matthew says in his defense, finding himself grinning a little too wide. It’s not like it's his first choice; he’ll eat it if he’s hungry. 

Gunwook shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Under no circumstances is it okay for pizza like that to exist,” he declares. Matthew chuckles as he follows him into the elevator. This is his debate side coming out, he guesses.

“Wait,” he says, stepping in, and letting the door close behind him. He stands in front of Gunwook, pulling at his scarf until it slides off of the boy’s neck. 

It was kind of hanging stupidly off of him. Matthew thinks if you don’t wear a scarf right then you shouldn’t wear one at all. “Why’d you even put this on,” Matthew says, under his breath to himself really, amused. He wraps the scarf around Gunwook’s neck twice and then tucks it into his jacket so it’s secure. This was the way his sister used to fix his scarf on him, then the way Matthew would fix the scarf on Taerae, and now, now Matthew is doing it to Gunwook. 

Ah. This was a mistake. He just couldn't help himself. Why does interacting with Gunwook come so naturally? He knows Gunwook is staring at him while Matthew stares at what his own hands are doing. He won’t make the next mistake of connecting their eyes. Not while they’re in an elevator with cameras. Not with the knowledge of knowing how easy he folds. Nope. 

Matthew pats him when he’s done, then moves to press the elevator button.

“Do you drive?” Matthew asks curiously, peering at Gunwook only when he knows he’s not staring at him.

“I have a car, but I take the train here,” he responds.

“Why?”

“More convenient. The parking is crazy here.”

Matthew makes an ah noise as he nods. “Okay, fair. I’ll drive us to any place you want to go,” Matthew offers, the moment they step out of the elevator. They walk down the hall side by side, making small talk until they’re out of the building. Matthew briefly wonders if anyone will spot them leaving together. It’s not a big deal. 

Gunwook kind of tugs on his arm to stop him from walking in the direction of his car. “Ahhh, Hyung, let’s walk. Save the environment for a day.”

Matthew’s eyes bug out at him. “It’s fuckin’ cold out here- look at you! You’re shivering!” Matthew laughs. 

Gunwook immediately pulls his jacket tighter. And tries to relax and not look bothered by the cold. “So?”

Although reluctant, Matthew does follow Gunwook into the opposite direction — towards where the opening to the parking garage is. When they get out onto the street they huddle close together, walking down the sidewalk with their arms pressing. It’s kind of like they’re two bumper cars, repeatedly knocking into each other.

“You’re right, I regret this,” Gunwook admits, not even a few minutes into their journey. Matthew laughs, making a cloud of air stream from his mouth. 

He pushes into Gunwook’s side, causing them both to stumble slightly, because it just feels natural, he doesn’t know. “We could’ve been in my warm car, with warm heated seats, and heat blowing on us, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“No, not at all,” Gunwook says, pulling his phone out of his coat pocket. Then he pulls out a pair of ear-phones. Wired ones. 

Matthew points at them. “You still use those? Don’t you know what year we’re in?”

“Hey. Don’t fix what’s not broken, and embrace tradition,” he says, holding up his phone and putting the end into the outlet. 

Matthew laughs. “Look, you have to use an adapter just to even do that. It's inconvenient.”

“I don’t care,” Gunwook sings, “you wanna listen?” he says, offering up an earphone. 

If Matthew says no, then he’d just be walking alongside Gunwook in silence while he listens to music. That would be pointless. So he says yes. 

To his surprise, Gunwook sticks the earbud in his ear for him, then links their arms, saying that if they’re not close it’ll fall out of one of their ears. He's right, so Matthew goes with it.

Gunwook holds his phone between them and plays a random song from his library. A Hard Rock song. Matthew makes a funny face. 

“This is the kind of music you listen to?” He asks because it’s just not what he expected.

“What? This is like the coolest thing ever. Give it a chance.”

“Who said I wasn’t?”

Gunwook rolls his eyes, playfully. “Yeah, sure.”

So they walk, and Gunwook’s arm is warm against Matthew’s even if there’s layers between their bare skin. For a moment, Matthew kind of glances up at him, and looks at how Gunwook mouths along to the words. He gets this weird feeling in his chest — something burning, something left unattended, something unable to go away. He wonders if he’s allowed to feel this way — finding comfort in someone who’s nearly a stranger. 

He wonders if Taerae felt like this too. 

Matthew keeps thinking of kissing Gunwook again, which is bad. Even the stupidest most minor things keep bothering him. The way Gunwook’s lips wrap around his straw just to take a sip of water. They’re just…thick, way thicker than Taerae’s. Really pink too.

“Okay, how about…” Gunwook pauses as his eyes scan over the menu. “Supreme?”

They’re in a booth. At a parlor that Matthew’s actually never been to before. The walls are decorated with vintage photos and posters and stickers. It’s a really nice aesthetic. There’s music playing, that kind of sounds like the type of genre Gunwook is into. 

“That’ll be heavy on the stomach,” Matthew responds, observing a few people around them. The booth behind them is empty, but the next one over holds a couple. Matthew wonders if couples come here a lot. He and Taerae don’t eat out together much. Or, together in general.

“Life’s too short to worry about what you eat, c’mon,” Gunwook says, patting on the table. It catches Matthew’s attention and makes them lock eyes.

“It’ll be even shorter if you don’t.” Gunwook rolls his eyes. Matthew smiles, “I’m just teasing you. Order whatever you want. It’s on me,” he says with a shrug.

“Because I’ve just been such a great intern?” Gunwook says, batting his long eye-lashes kind of like a girl. Matthew lets out a squeaky laugh. Ew, what was that?

He rests his elbows on the table and stirs his drink with his straw. “No.”

They end up getting a large cheese pizza, because Gunwook looked at the price for ones with toppings and started feeling bad. Genuinely bad. His cheeks went a little pink when he asked the waitress to tell him how much. Matthew tried to tell him it was ‘no big deal’ but he wouldn’t listen. Perhaps Gunwook is more polite than he lets on.

Sharing feels a little intimate. Or maybe it isn’t. Honestly, Matthew’s just crazy. He needs a drink. Their hands keep touching though, whenever either of them coincidentally reach for a slice at the same time. They both always pull back and say you go ahead, no you, it’s okay.

“So how long have you been married for?” Gunwook asks. 

Matthew coughs a little, not expecting the question. “Do you really need to know that?”

“Why not?”

Okay, it’s nothing. Just basic information about himself. “Just three years.” Just. Why’d he say it like that? Three years is a long time for some people. Not really for a marriage; at times he’s sure they’d still be considered newlyweds compared to people married for decades.

Gunwook kind of gives him this look that Matthew can’t ignore. His eyes flicker away and back to the slice on his plate as he nods. Matthew won’t let him get away. “You were expecting me to say something larger, weren’t you?”

“No, I wasn’t expecting anything,” he says.

“Hey, don’t lie to me, I don’t like it.” When he says that he realizes something about himself. He doesn’t like lying. Even if he’s been lying to himself about being happy. But that was a completely different ballgame. Directly lying was hurtful, no matter what the form was.

“Okay, maybe I thought you were about to say 10 years.”

Matthew laughs, unable to help himself. “That would make me a child groom.” Gunwook tilts his head in confusion. “I’m 27, Gunwook, please.”

His age isn’t really anywhere online, so maybe he should’ve expected him to not know that. Does Matthew seem older than that? He wants to ask, but he may not like the answer. Maybe he should start retinol like Hanbin.

“You got married too young,” Gunwook says.

Wow, there it is. So abruptly. And he said it so easily, unlike the way Matthew had to shake it out of Hanbin. He wonders what Gunwook's outlook on life and marriage is. He's still young. He wants to know more.

“It felt right at the time,” Matthew says with a shrug, because that’s what the truth was. “He’s been my friend for almost a decade.”

“What’s wrong then?” He looks curious when he says it. Gunwook’s probably asking that because Matthew was more than willing to kiss him in a bathroom stall. He’s been letting Gunwook flirt with him despite directly telling him that he’s married. Matthew obviously doesn’t stand for loyalty. He doesn’t stand for anything. 

Matthew considers telling him, but he really shouldn’t treat Gunwook like his couples counselor. That’d be weird. 

“It’s my own problems,” Matthew says.

“I want to know,” Gunwook insists. Matthew’s eyes flicker to his outfit for some reason after. To the way his coat hugs his broad shoulders. He wants to wrap his arms over them again.

“My husband is cheating on me, I found out a couple weeks ago,” he says. That came out without any trouble. It’s odd. Something he’s used to now.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Because it’s coming from him, Matthew thinks, it’s funny. So he laughs. There’s no other way he can comfort him about this kind of thing, is there? 

Matthew shakes his head. “You’re not.”

Gunwook’s thick eyebrows lift and disappear into his bangs. His eyes widen. “Hyung! I am, that’s a terrible thing to go through,” he says, voice laced with a type of shock, like he can’t believe Matthew can’t believe he feels sympathy.

Matthew laughs to himself. “I’m okay, right now. I guess. It’s fine.”

“So you’re getting revenge on him,” Gunwook concludes. Matthew can’t get mad at him for thinking that. Now that Gunwook filled in the gaps of information he didn’t have before, it’s what makes the most sense.

But is that what he’s doing? Revenge? In a way that’s what it feels like, but at the same time, Matthew’s eyes have been wandering for a while. Things haven’t been the same for a while. He couldn’t even be happy in a marriage for more than three years, it’s kind of pathetic. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Matthew denies, looking down at his hands in his lap now. “It’s more like a window of opportunity just opened for me.”

“For you to cheat on him back?”

He doesn’t want to say it like that either, even though that’s what it is basically. 

“Maybe something like that.”

“And you chose me?”

Matthew goes silent for a moment, then says, “you ask a lot of questions.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t choose you, you just,” Matthew holds his hands up and kind of frames Gunwook’s face in the air. “Kind of happened.”

“I kind of happened. Cool,” Gunwook says, obviously content with that answer. Ugh.

Matthew sighs. “Gunwook, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“And that idea is?”

Should Matthew just be direct? That’s the way Gunwook is. He should just match his energy. No one around them is really within an earshot of hearing what they say.

“You wanna fuck me,” Matthew says. He should be embarrassed, saying something so vulgar, but he knows it's true. It's all over Gunwook's face. Coded into his behavior.

Gunwook pauses his motion of biting off another part of his pizza. His eyes flicker up to Matthew’s, eyelashes looking so long. Matthew shifts in his seat, anticipating what he’ll say in response.

Gunwook sits his pizza back down onto his plate, and grins like he just won an award. Oh god. “I do. You’re hot.”

Matthew jerks up in his seat and points his finger at him. For some reason he’s unable to tone down the smile threatening to form on his face. It’s there. Fuck it’s there. “See-that. That-this can’t happen.”

“I didn’t say it had to happen,” Gunwook responds, obviously staring at Matthew’s mouth now.

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“Hey,” Gunwook says, when they get back to the parking garage. “Give me your phone number.” He speaks with such confidence. Why is he like that? He shouldn’t be so sure everything will go his way. It’s far from reasonable.

“Why?” Matthew asks.

Gunwook props his mouth open. “What if I have an emergency and can’t come in one day? Huh? What are you going to do?”

“You can…email me.” Emailing is on your phone, it’s simple. Practically like texting.

“A text is more convenient.”

Matthew can’t really argue with that and he doesn’t know why he’s acting like he’s so against it in the first place. So he gives Gunwook his phone number and Gunwook texts him so he can have his. 

“Don’t text me whenever you want,” Matthew warns, with no actual seriousness behind his words. 

“Bye Hyung. Get home safe!” Gunwook says, ignoring him. Matthew waves and laughs.

On his drive home, he realizes it'll be hard to really brush Gunwook off. They have this thing, a secret, connecting them now. One that's impossible to forget or ignore.

Matthew awakens around 10:00 am. In his own bed, at his own house for once. Hanbin had a conference to go to this weekend so Matthew was able to escape the bar this time around, thankfully. He’s been only drinking water recently because he feels like he went too far. 

He sits up in bed, blanket huddled around his frame and blinks a couple of times to bring himself into reality. Taerae isn’t beside him. 

The moment Matthew got home yesterday Taerae told him that he needed to work overtime this weekend because he got behind on his work. Yeah, Matthew can guess a few reasons why. 

“‘Kay,” Matthew had said.

“You’re not upset about that?” Taerae responded. 

Matthew squinted at him. “You mean like how you get upset with me?” 

“It’s different. You know that. I’m still in the same building as you at least.”

Not really wanting to argue about it, Matthew had told him he was right, and then started getting ready for bed. 

That was how most of their conversations went these days. On the verge of an argument that then gets shut down quickly after. He just fails to see the point in doing all of that. 

Matthew falls back into bed, staring up the ceiling for a moment. When he does that, it causes friction between his crotch and the covers. Ah, he’s hard. 

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth kind of and glances at the door. It’s closed. He’s in their room all alone. In silence. Taerae is on the level under him, probably with his headphones on and the door closed. He gets pretty serious about his work when he has something important to do. 

Matthew could easily rub one out. Easily. And even if Taerae were to catch him; he can just throw it back in his face. Taerae masturbated in their guest room at like 4:30pm. That’s way weirder than anything Matthew is planning to do. Morning wood is natural.

He keeps the covers on him. Kind of liking the warmth and the weight of them. He tugs his t-shirt up a little, and slides his fingertips across his pelvis. His muscles jump in return. Matthew breathes out harshly at the sensitivity. He loves it. He hasn’t felt it in a while. Not since that night with Gunwook. 

Gunwook. 

Fuck, he’s about to think about Gunwook isn’t he? Matthew closes his eyes and turns on his side a little. His nipples are pebbling up against his shirt. He can’t stop himself from imagining Gunwook’s calloused thumbs circling them — pinching them. Then there’s the image of Gunwook on top of him that he can’t escape. Hovering over him. Lips attached to his neck and tonguing over his pulse. 

He’d make Matthew keep all his clothes on because it’s kinda hot that way. The same way Gunwook mentioned it at the bar that night. These fit nice, he said, about his jeans maybe. Love your body, he said. He’d bunch Matthew’s shirt up to his neck, easily holding Matthew’s upper torso in his large hands. 

Matthew dips his hand below his briefs, grabbing his cock into his hand. His breathing is so ragged. Loud, in this quiet room. He feels like he doesn’t even exist here right now. He’s somewhere else, far away. 

His cock twitches in his palm when he hears an echo of Gunwook’s voice in his head. I want you, he said, repeatedly, like he needed Matthew to really know. Oh fuck, it was so good to hear. Matthew wishes his hand was bigger so he could pretend it’s Gunwook’s. Is that weird? When he palmed him through his jeans that night, his hand covered his entire crotch area. 

Matthew starts stroking himself, lazily fucking up into his own hand. He presses his thumb to his slit — causing his entire body to squirm. His mouth falls open as he moves his hips faster. There’s a quiet moan that he’s tried too hard to keep in being let out next. A little bit of drool is pooling out of his mouth and onto his pillow. He thinks vividly about Gunwook laying next to him right now, fucking him from behind, and kissing sloppily at the side of his face. Maybe not even kissing — just brushing his lips across his jaw. That would be good. He’d call Matthew hot. Ask Matthew if he’s doing well.

Having enough mind to think logically at the last minute, Matthew angles his dick up when cums, so it shoots all over his t-shirt instead of the blanket. He shuts his eyes tight as he comes down from the high. When he opens his eyes, and feels cum dripping down his palm, he gets a little bit of post-clarity. But it’s not quite shame, at least. Matthew has no time for that feeling anymore.

But it’s like his perspective has shifted. He knows why he and Taerae don’t work anymore. Matthew is needy. So needy, and kind of pathetic. Taerae is too. Maybe they never belonged together.

Gunwook

[12:05pm]- Hi

Matthew is just freshly out of the shower when he receives the message. His grip on the knot of his towel around his waist tightens unintentionally. He should respond. He shouldn't. No, he should.

Matthew sits his phone down on the counter and wipes his hand across the mirror to see himself better. His phone vibrates not even moments later. 

Gunwook

[12:08pm]- wyd

If he told him what he was doing, whether that be jacking off or showering, he’d definitely say something inappropriate. 

Gunwook 

[12:08pm]- hyunggggg it is important i was thinking about you 

Matthew rolls his eyes, and laughs. 

Gunwook

[12:10pm]-[jpg]

He didn’t expect that. It’s a picture of him, with his face super close to the camera. It’s honestly really cute. He looks like he’s in a hoodie. Probably just at his home. 

Matthew reacts with the heart emoji on the photo. 

Gunwook

[12:11pm]- a heart wow did u like that

Gunwook 

[12:12pm]- you never told me what you were doing 

Gunwook

[12:14pm]- i told you 

[12:14pm]- I’m thinking of you 

Gunwook

[12:16pm]- Thank god I have something better to do 

He’s ridiculous, kind of. Matthew holds his phone in his hand and looks at his reflection again. He gets a very dumb idea to take a picture of himself, maybe a no-face body shot? Or maybe just kind of pan the camera down at his collarbone so he can show Gunwook that’s naked, and like, wet. 

No. He should not do anything of that nature. He’s just still in a sex-haze mindset from earlier. But what about just for himself? He doesn’t take very many pictures anymore. What’s the harm? He opens the camera on his phone and poses a little. Snapping a few pictures and then observing them. He looks dumb, in his opinion. But Gunwook would probably call him hot. 

In the middle of contemplating sending those or not, the door to the bathroom opens, and it scares the living shit out of Matthew. He kind of flinches too hard, and drops his phone on the floor. 

Taerae walks in, giving him a weird look, then looking at his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Matthew responds, hunching over to pick his phone up. Much to his avail, his phone screen is cracked badly now because of how it landed on the ground. Great. He won’t be sending pictures — let alone texting at all.

On Monday, Taerae needs the car because he actually has to go into office for once. Matthew thought it was a load of bullshit, but he didn’t argue, he simply said sure and made arrangements to carpool with Hanbin to work. He hasn’t even been keeping up with Taerae on the tracking app — what was the point anymore? 

“He almost caught you doing what?” Hanbin laughs in shock, and hits his hand on the steering wheel a couple times in sync with his giggles. It’s not that funny in his opinion. He still has to go get his screen repaired or just buy a new phone entirely. He’s risking getting cuts in his fingers by still using this one.

“Wow, Seok Matthew. You’re really going through it. So did you send them?”

“No! Of course not,” Matthew responds, feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing now. Was he really about to consider sexting Gunwook like he’s in college still? Sure those things have no age on them, but c’mon, he’s grown out of that completely.

“Oh, so you were just thinking about it. Which were probably your real and genuine thoughts by the way.”

“I don’t know,” Matthew grumbles, “Hyung, I can’t fuck my intern, can I?” He can't even believe that's a sentence that just came out of his mouth.

“Well, you already know what I’m gonna say. Hey, do you want to stop for coffee?”

“Sure,” Matthew responds, watching Hanbin swerve out of their lane and into another. Someone honks. “What are you going to say? I don’t know.”

Hanbin holds his hand up. “I’ve willingly homewrecked a relationship before. Of course you should fuck your intern.” Ah. Matthew forgot about all of that. Hanbin’s relationship with Jiwoong. He wants to know what was the final straw for Hanbin to get out of it. Will it be like that for Taerae? Will Matthew even be around to find out?

“What about guidelines and stuff…if anyone finds out I’m screwed.” He’s being dramatic, kind of.

“Matthew chill, I got your back. As long as you don’t tell the world, you should be fine,” Hanbin says, reassuring him.

“Is Ricky still following Taerae around?”

“You know it. He sends me everything he finds out.”

“So there’s more?”

“Uh…” Hanbin side-eyes him before thinning out his lips, “yes?” Matthew scoffs.

“Look, I've just been trying to protect your peace. I don’t like seeing my best friend cry or anything. And Gunwook seems to be a good distraction," Hanbin says.

He’s right about all of that. He has been feeling better — coming to terms with it all. But Matthew has a victim-complex at times. A side that likes feeling more hurt than he already was. “Hyung, start sending the stuff to me too. I’d just like to know.”

“Sure.”

“Matthewwwwww,” Gunwook whines, about 30 minutes from the time when they turn in for the day. Matthew snaps his eyes up to where he’s sitting. It’s like this temporary desk that he has in the corner of Matthew’s office. It’s a space way too small for him, but it’s kind of amusing to watch him hard at work there. 

“Hm?”

Gunwook rotates in his chair. “Why’d you stop texting me last weekend?”

He’s been holding that in for days, Matthew thinks. For the past few, when Matthew arrives at work, he's had to immediately jump into a meetings upon meetings. There was no time for their usual banter recently. He'll admit, that without it, he's been feeling empty.

“My phone broke.”

“Are you just saying that to get me to leave you alone?” Gunwook asks, smiling kind of, but he looks kind of hurt at the same time. Matthew wonders just how sensitive he really is. Does it take a lot for him to get mad?

“No,” Matthew says, grabbing his phone from his drawer and holding it up for Gunwook to see. 

He gasps. “Woah! How’d you do that?” 

“It’s your fault.”

“Mine…?”

“I dropped it while I was talking to you, you know.”

“Oh, let me make it up to you then.”

“By?” Matthew was just kidding, but Gunwook looks serious. “You’re buying me a new phone? Gunwook you don’t have to, oh my god,” he gushes dramatically. He should really get a new one. This one keeps flickering on and off at random times. Matthew wishes he dropped it on a carpeted floor.

Gunwook laughs. “No, after work, let’s go somewhere.”

Matthew stares at him. “You’re just assuming I have nothing to do?” He doesn’t have anything to do. Definitely nothing to do with Taerae. Obviously, Gunwook knows that too. 

“Come to my house.”

“Your house?”

Gunwook turns away from him, back to his desk. Matthew already misses looking at his face. “It’s an apartment, but it’s nice. You’ll see,” he says, just ending their conversation there. Matthew guesses he’s going to Gunwook’s house. What the hell.

“Oh your car is nice, you and your husband share this?” Gunwook asks, marveling at the inside the moment they get in. Matthew throws his satchel in the back. 

“Yes, and, don’t call him that,” he says, ignoring how Gunwook is burning holes into the side of his face with his gaze. It reminds him of what he’s doing. More of what Taerae is doing. They’re not really acting like they’re married, so why should they be referred to as such? 

“Here, plug your phone in and type in your address so I can get there without you running through the directions.”

Gunwook accepts his phone. “Are you saying I talk too fast? I think I’m a great explainer…navigator…” he responds, typing his address into Matthew’s phone. Matthew laughs. 

The drive there is surprisingly not as tense as Matthew had thought it would be. Gunwook’s talking — keeping his mind occupied on other things. His GPS leads him to an apartment complex located in a really nice part of the city actually. 

“Do you live here by yourself?” Matthew asks as he follows Gunwook up a set of stairs. He lives on the top level. Which at times is good and other times is bad. Matthew has lived in two apartments in his life so he knows all the pros and cons. He does not miss that life. “Yes,” Gunwook answers as he sticks his key in the door. Opening it very easily. 

It’s dark when Matthew walks in. Gunwook flicks on a light that’s far away from them, more towards where what looks like the kitchen is located, but it gives him enough light to see. It is a very nice apartment.

He politely takes off his shoes and sits them in the corner next to where all of Gunwook’s are neatly aligned. That leaves Matthew just in his jacket, he left his bag inside his car. Gunwook mentioned something about needing to check something as he did that, so when Matthew bends back up, he’s just kind of standing awkwardly at the door. Fuck, this is a terrible idea. Why is he doing this? Why is he here? He should go.

Gunwook appears again. This time without his puffer jacket and just in his button up. He threads a hand into his own hair, pushing it out of his face. He’s handsome. The reminder of that makes Matthew feel less inclined to leave. 

“It’s nice,” Matthew mentions, still closer to the door than he is to the main room of the apartment. “Did your parents buy this for you?” he jokes. 

“Actually they did,” Gunwook grins, as he takes a step closer. He takes Matthew’s hand in his, quite gently, which calms Matthew’s nerves but not the beating of his heart. He doesn’t pull Matthew, instead he brings himself closer, now standing with him in the space in front of the door. 

He’s all musky cologne — the scent of the woods during winter. He looks good. Gunwook feels good — his hands holding Matthew’s — that feels great. Matthew wants to kiss him again. He should allow himself to want to do that.

Matthew angles his head up at him, swallowing the fears he didn’t even know he had. 

Gunwook’s eyes track every movement his face makes. “I want to touch you again,” he says, with no hesitation, “let me take care of you.”

Matthew’s face is hot, if it wasn’t already. He’s so stupid for feeling like this in front of a younger guy. It’s even worse because he likes it so much. It’s the kind of attention he thinks he may have yearned for, without realizing it.

“Okay,” Matthew agrees, but it comes out of throat in a small breath, really, nothing like the way he is with Taerae, nothing at all. 

Gunwook does things without warning a lot of time. He bends down and picks Matthew up and carries him to the kitchen, putting him down on the counter.

He laughs, when he sees Matthew’s bewildered expression. “Scared?"

“A warning would be nice next time,” Matthew comments. Gunwook cages him in, a hand on either side of hips. They just kind of stare at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Matthew touches his finger to the where Gunwook’s cheekbone begins, following it to the center of his face, over his cupid’s bow, to his lips. Matthew’s finger presses into the flesh of Guwnook’s bottom lip and the latter immediately opens his mouth. 

Matthew looks at him, then lets his hand fall to his lap. 

Gunwook smiles. “It’s easier to kiss you when we’re on the same level,” he says before pressing his lips to Matthew’s.

Matthew immediately relaxes into the kiss feeling the bundle of nerves in him evaporate. Gunwook’s made a place between his legs, he’s now holding his palm against the back of Matthew’s neck for support or almost like he doesn’t want him to get away. Matthew loves it, being held close like this. He likes the way Gunwook’s larger lips engulf his thinner ones. 

Gunwook’s hand splayed across his nape slides around to cup his face. His other hand soon joins. Then he’s holding Matthew’s head in his hands as he kisses him stupid. Matthew lets out a moan when Gunwook’s tongue lolls past his lips to touch Matthew’s. 

This is the kind of kissing he missed. The dirty kind where they flick their tongues together and swirl them around each other. Gunwook’s in between an excited dog and someone who's had practice. Matthew doesn’t know what to think, all he knows is that he likes it. 

Their lips smack together one more time before Gunwook breaks the kiss. He lets go of Matthew’s face, hands returning to their original position on the counter. He kisses the corner of Matthew’s mouth, then his cheek. Matthew expects for him to move back after, but he doesn’t. He stays there, nose pressed into Matthew’s cheek, breath hot against his skin, before he opens his mouth and bites into his skin. It’s not hard or painful at all, but it still makes Matthew recoil back. He probably looks stupid right now, in his puffer still. 

“Why are you biting me? You’re a monster,” Matthew jokes, rubbing at his cheek. Gunwook dips his face into the crook of Matthew’s neck, making him giggle because it tickles. What the fuck? Is he seriously some kind of literal dog?

“Hyung, you’re so cute, I couldn’t help myself,” Gunwook responds. 

Cute. Matthew’s a grown man. He’s not really that cute. Taerae was the cuter one in their relationship. Gunwook is the cuter one in this one. It makes Matthew think of all the times he’s wondered if he looked weird. If his nose was too big. If he should consider getting surgery now that he has the money to. It was just the usual insecurities. Some things follow you to adulthood — they’re just easier to deal with. 

Gunwook nuzzles his face further into Matthew’s neck. Matthew can feel his hands settling on his thighs. “You went quiet, what are you thinking about?”

What is he thinking about? He’s not used to being asked that question. “It was nothing really.”

“Nothing is always something,” Gunwook says when he fixes his hunch and stands up straight again. 

“I’m just not used to it. When you say things to me-like call me cute," Matthew says, feeling like he's admitting one of his deepest darkest secrets.

“Do you like it?” Gunwook asks. Then, his fingers dip under Matthew’s coat, over his shoulders to bring the layer off of him. Matthew pulls his arms out to help the process go smoother. 

“Yeah. I do."

“Great,” Gunwoook says, laying his jacket off somewhere beside them before he returns to the V of Matthew’s legs, “because I can’t help myself.” 

Gunwook’s fingertips lightly graze over Matthew’s bottom lip next, and maybe out of natural habit, Matthew parts his lips, opening his mouth. It wasn’t necessarily an invitation, but Gunwook takes it as one to slide two fingers into his mouth. They brush his tongue. Not going too far, just grazing it. Gunwook’s watching his mouth intently, obviously loving it — this. Matthew wonders if this is something he’s seen in porn or something. The fingers in someone’s mouth thing. It’s almost humorous, but it’s also turning Matthew on, thinking of him planning to reenact something like this with Matthew. He's lost it.

Do you think of me that much, Matthew thinks as he stares at him. He closes his mouth around Gunwook’s fingers, sucking down on them. It makes Gunwook’s eyes snap up to his. 

Both of Matthew’s hands hold onto Gunwook’s large one, knowing the size difference is unmistakable when it’s in front of him like this. He’s having fun with it now. Making a show out of it. He smiles kind of, wickedly.

Gunwook’s fingers pull out of his mouth and he replaces them with his lips instead. This time the kiss is wild — making something stir in the pit of Matthew’s stomach. He makes a noise when Gunwook picks him up again, like Matthew weighs nothing. He’s not sure where they’re going because his eyes are still closed. He’s still kissing Gunwook. Cupping his warm cheeks in his hand as their mouths move together. 

Then there’s an impact that makes Matthew kind of jump in his lap. He breaks away, opening his eyes to see that they’re just seated on the couch now. 

“No bedroom for me?” Matthew teases, a smile planted on his face as he brushes his nose over Gunwook’s. “Can’t say this is being taken care of.”

“Unconventional places are better,” Gunwook responds, attaching his lips to Matthew’s jaw. 

“Yeah? You wanted to fuck me in that bathroom? You’re gross.”

“You would’ve done it too. You’re grosser.” Matthew swears his cock twitches in his pants at the thought. Because he actually wouldn't have, it's unsanitary. He likes the dirty talk though. 

Gunwook lifts him off of him and makes Matthew lay back against the couch. He’s moving fast now, probably because they’ve escalated and now he’s getting riled up. Matthew gets it, he’s there too. 

Gunwook undoes the button to Matthew’s pants and then drags down the zipper. He stares at Matthew as he pulls both of them down his legs. First thing Matthew feels is exposed. Then, very cold, actually. Not at all embarrassed however. 

Gunwook throws his clothes onto the floor beside them before crawling over him. He eyes Matthew’s hard cock, and takes it into his hand. Matthew twitches. 

“Your dick is big. It’s hot,” Gunwook comments. His hand is still large enough to engulf it all. He strokes it a couple of times. Matthew sucking on his fingers earlier was beneficial for something at least. Precum is already leaking from his slit to help the slide.

He knows it’s big. It’s noticeable in certain pants where tucking does nothing. He thinks it may be the only thing Taerae liked him for, now that he has the time to think about it.

“I still wanna fuck you though.”

Matthew moans, quite dirtily. Gunwook shifts, bracketing his hips and sitting on his thighs so Matthew can stop moving so much. And it definitely works. 

Matthew’s chest is rising rapidly, feeling way too much all at once. He opens his eyes when there’s a hand on his chest. Gunwook’s undoing the buttons to his shirt. Not all of them, because that would be too much, take too much time, but enough to reveal his chest and a peek of the tattoo on his ribs. 

His muscles jump, like that day in bed, when Gunwook leaves his cock and drags his hand up Matthew’s torso. His hips try to jerk in return, but can’t because of Gunwook’s weight pressing down onto him. 

Oh fuck, that’s really turning Matthew on. Gunwook sitting on top of him and playing with him like he’s just a thing to mess with. The attention is making color rise up from Matthew’s chest to his face. 

Gunwook leans over him, kissing him once on the mouth before shifting down to take a hard nipple into his mouth. Matthew immediately tangles his fingers into his hair and urges on the back of his head. His back is arching up, pushing his chest out further. 

“It’s—so good,” he whines, only having that to say since the moment Gunwook started touching him. It’s just been sounds he didn’t even know he could make being ripped out of him. No words. 

He’s forcing himself to keep his burning eyes open. To watch Gunwook’s plump lips seal over his nipple. In the space left between them he can see Gunwook moving his hand back down towards Matthew’s red cock. Fuck, he won’t last. He’s fucked. It doesn't help that Gunwook won't stop staring at him.

Gunwook doesn’t even hold it in his hand. He just grazes his finger over the side of his cock, over a vein. Up and down. The touch is so soft. It’s torture. He pulls off of Matthew’s nipple with a noise, and then flicks his tongue against it a couple of times. Matthew cums so much, so much. He’s crying through it. Trembling through it. He can’t even jut his hips up or thrash since Gunwook’s sitting on him. He just sits there and takes it.

On the drive home, Matthew nearly hits a deer that jumps into the road. It shakes him so bad that he just stops there in the middle of the street, and sits there, thinking about what he just did with Gunwook, and how there's no coming back from it.

It’s about 8:30 pm when he gets home, so Matthew knows Taerae is far from asleep. Yes. Far from it. When he enters through the door, Taerae is there. Right in front of it. Which kind of takes him aback, but whatever. Matthew kicks off his shoes and maneuvers around him. 

“Matthew, where have you been? Your phone is off. I couldn’t even track your location,” Taerae says, following him up the stairs. 

“My phone is broken. Remember?” Matthew mentions. He sighs when he realizes Taerae is going to follow him into their room. He throws his bag down on the chair the moment he steps in. He really needs to shower — his clothes are soiled. From everything, kind of. He hopes he doesn't smell like sex.

“Why didn’t you call me from work or something to let me know? I’ve just been sitting in here worrying–”

What? “Then why didn’t you try to come and find me?” Matthew says abruptly, whipping around to face him. Taerae takes a step backwards. “Huh? What’s that dumb look on your face for? If you really cared you should’ve called Hanbin-hyung. Or shit, the police. Report a missing person!” He's yelling. He should tone it down. He's getting mad. He'll say something reckless.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t talk down to me,” Taerae snaps. “You’re mad because I was worried? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes,” Matthew says, turning away from him, pulling off his coat next. “You’re worried about the wrong things. You worry at the wrong times. I know you had Jiwoong here with you, so tell me, why do you care again?”

“What? Why would I-why would Jiwoong be here?”

“Because you’re-”

Matthew literally bites his tongue. He closes his mouth, then his eyes, then just laughs. He can’t even say it. Can’t even do this: the confrontation that he’s been mapping out how to even have. In every scenario he loses. He's unsuccessful. Which is weird because he knows what the truth is.

“Because I’m what?” Taerae asks, straight-faced. Matthew stares at him, taking in all of him. He thinks he's forgotten what Taerae even looked like really. He has barely seen him for the past month. That's what it feels like. He feels like a stranger. 

“Nothing, Taerae. Sorry I had some stuff to drink. It’s been a long day. I’m going to take a shower now, I think,” Matthew announces, knowing that doesn’t make sense because he drove home. Whatever, maybe Taerae will think he’s just reckless.

To his surprise, Taerae doesn’t say anything else, or follow him to the bathroom. When Matthew closes the door behind him, he notices how fast his heart is beating in his chest. 

He thinks Taerae just wants Matthew to accuse him already. Taerae can’t be that clueless — no, Matthew knows he isn’t. Taerae thinks it would be better if they just separated and lived in their own ways. Matthew knows it. And somehow, that hurts even more.

The pictures are the worst part. Hanbin was right, he should’ve protected his peace. 

2:45 am. They’re still sleeping in the same bed, for some odd reason. And it’s awkward. Taerae is at the very edge and Matthew’s at the very edge. They might as well both be on the floor. 

Matthew has his phone open, listening to Taerae’s snores, as he swipes through the pictures Ricky has taken. You can see the progression of Taerae and Jiwoong’s relationship over the passage of time. How they become more comfortable with each other. How they get more physical with each other. Taerae’s smile is so unlike the one he shines at Matthew when he’s happy. It’s smaller, awkward, which sounds weird, but that’s how Taerae is when he really likes someone. He restrains himself. 

They go to a lot of different places. Some of them are at the country club. A few others feature them at what Matthew assumes is Jiwoong’s house. Taerae looks more relaxed there. Restaurants. Five star ones. Places Matthew’s never even heard of or seen before. 

The last one Matthew looks at before he turns his phone off, was taken last night. It’s a backside shot of Taerae and Jiwoong hand in hand. They look like they’re downtown, near the building where Matthew works at. Though he can’t see their faces, he knows they’re smiling. 

They don’t talk to each other, really, in the morning. There’s just an exchange of good morning’s and goodbye’s. That’s it. As Matthew walks down the front steps, he thinks maybe that they can live this way with each other.

Or maybe they can’t.

“Goddamn. You look fucked,” Hanbin says, when he walks into his office. Matthew closes the door behind him and then dramatically lays on Hanbin’s couch. He has a bigger office than Matthew since his position is higher. It’s nice, decorated generously.

“I am. Taerae and I fought last night,” Matthew reveals, feeling like he's 8 years younger suddenly. He's said that phrase to Hanbin before. Taerae and I fought. We fought over what to order for takeout. We fought because I wanted to cheat on my exam, Hyung tell him he's stuck-up.

The interns are in some type of meeting that lasts until lunch time, so Matthew is taking advantage of his space away from Gunwook. He probably noticed the kind of mood he was in when he caught a glimpse of Matthew this morning.

Hanbin glances at him then back to his computer. “About what?”

“The usual, but I brought up Jiwoong.”

“You did?” Hanbin says louder, in shock. 

Matthew nods, hair getting messed up because of how he’s lying on the couch. He wants to turn over on his front and hide his face.

“What did you say?” Hanbin asks curiously, when Matthew doesn’t respond, he moves his head from behind his monitor and locks their eyes. Just from one look Hanbin can already tell what happened. 

“And…you couldn't say it…why?”

“I feel like he’s waiting for me to. I don’t want him to win. Does that sound crazy?”

“A little. But I get it, I’d be the same way," Hanbin laughs. 

“And you were right about the pictures," Matthew admits. He was. They made him feel like shit. He feels like crap. Roadkill.

“I’m right about many things.”

Matthew sits up, smooths his hair back down, then stands to his feet. This needs to be over. He shouldn’t spend his morning wallowing around. Why should he, when he can go play computer games and think about how cute Gunwook looks in his sweater today. Life is good. 

“Hey, Matthew,” Hanbin says, just before he can grab the door handle completely. 

Matthew looks over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, again.” And he knows he means it, despite all the time they spend joking around together. Matthew just nods, then exits the room. Sympathy still fixes nothing.

“Do you want to go to a party with me?” Gunwook asks a week later, on what Matthew thinks is a Wednesday. He’s having trouble remembering what day it is when it’s not the weekend. Exhaustion will do that to you. 

Matthew looks at him as he passes by him to get to his desk. “What kind of party?” A party. With Gunwook. That sounds like a recipe for disaster for some reason.

“It's…a frat party,” Gunwook says sheepishly, as if he knows what Matthew will say. Matthew laughs, because Gunwook is still so obviously in college. 

“I know how that sounds — but it could be fun!” he tries.

“Are you in a fraternity?”

“Me? No, my best friend is though. I could never do that.”

“Why? I was in a frat," Matthew says, shuffling through some papers.

“You were?” Gunwook gawks at him. And maybe Matthew should have expected that. His outer appearance doesn’t give off that vibe. He nods. “Yeah, but only for a year. I got bored with all of it.” Or more like he just felt like the hazing was too much. Crazy shit goes on in those places. 

“So you’re not a real brother," Gunwook jokes.

Matthew finds himself grinning. “Guess not.”

“So was that a yes?”

“No. I’m 27. I don’t belong at a frat party.” And it's true. He doesn't.

“But you don’t look 27.”

“I think I look my age,” Matthew responds, “but thanks for flattering me.”

Gunwook’s sulking terribly for the rest of the day. Matthew waits until the end of it to ask what’s got him so down. 

“I want you to come…and meet my friends,” he says, with his head down. They’re standing in front of Matthew’s car. Nobody's really around, but they should probably get inside. Matthew will just offer to drive Gunwook home like he usually does.

“Why?” Matthew asks. His friends? What, so they can become his friends too? Gunwook is mature and realistic, but also not sometimes. Matthew doubts there will be anyone he can really see himself getting along with.  

“Because you’re important to me. I want to show you off,” Gunwook says, he hooks his fingers into Matthew’s belt loops and yanks him closer. Matthew lets out the most embarrassing noise known to humankind as he swats Gunwook away. 

“Get in the car. Stop,” Matthew bites out, feeling his face heat up. He hears Gunwook laugh as he rounds the car to the other side. 

When Matthew gets in he tries to make sense of being important to Gunwook. He’s important in the form of a mentor — holding a career that Gunwook may want to be one day. He’s someone Gunwook looks up to. But, what, as a lover? Is that what he’s referring to?

Gunwook ducks into the car, settling his bag between his legs. 

“You want to show me off, huh?” Matthew says, mocking him. Gunwook grins, not an inch of shame. 

“Yes. Plus, don’t you think it’ll be fun?”

“No,” Matthew responds, as he presses his foot on the gas pedal and starts the car. “You’re setting me up. Luring me into a trap. I know your game, Park Gunwook.”

He’s joking. But seriously, he can’t go to a college party. He’d look like one of those weirdos that peaked in school. Ugh. Just the thought bothers him.

Then there’s a hand on his arm. Matthew looks to his side and finds Gunwook puppy-dog-eyeing him. Ridiculous. 

“For me?” he asks, like he's for sure it'll work. It kind of does.

“When’s the party?” Matthew asks. 

“Tonight.”

“Alright. But you owe me, big time.”

They were simultaneously evolving and reverting back into the forms of themselves that they yearned for — Taerae at country clubs eating brunch and Matthew in the basement of a fraternity house doing cocaine. 

He has Gunwook’s snapback on, and his hoodie on, and these jeans that he had to cuff at the ends. He had to get ready at Gunwook’s house. It made no sense for Matthew to go back home and figure out what to wear. He blends in better, he thinks, with Gunwook's clothes.

Matthew thinks Gunwook just wanted to bitch him in front of all his friends tonight. Like ha, look at this older, successful, buff, tattooed man that I have sitting in my lap guys, I’m the shit.

That’s not what happened or what he said, but it’s just what it felt like. However, Matthew had sat in his lap, sort of, when they were with his friends. More like just had his legs swung over his knees. He already had a few drinks in his system, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have been that comfortable. 

Gunwook’s friends were cool though. Very typical frat guy, business-major guys. Especially Gyuvin, who pulled a little bag of white stuff and shook it in front of Matthew’s face like he would to a cat with a laser.

“I’ll give you some space man,” Gyuvin had said before he left him in the bathroom. 

Awesome. Matthew poured some out onto the counter, lazily made a single line with his fingers. Dug into his pocket for his wallet. Chopped it neatly with a credit card. 

He hasn’t done this since freshman year of college, when he was wayyy too young to be doing so. Now, he’s too old to be doing this, he can even admit that under the influence. But it’s just one night. Just one. Matthew pulls the only dollar he has out of his wallet and rolls it tight. He holds it to his nose and snorts up the line, remembering to press his nostril shut and breathe a little. Fuck! He straightens up and throws his head back. It’s just what he needed. 

A few minutes later there’s a pounding on the door. Then it swings open and nearly hits Matthew in the face. His first instinct is to just punch whoever it is, but it’s Gunwook, so he stands down. He can thank only doing one line for that. If he did more, it would have been trouble.

Gunwook is looking at him like he’s completely lost his mind. “Is Gyuvin fucking insane?” he seems to say out loud to himself and not at Matthew. Matthew grabs his wallet and stuffs it back into his pocket, leaving the bag of coke behind as Gunwook pulls him out of the bathroom. 

Gunwook didn’t drink, maybe because he knew Matthew would. He dragged him out of the party, but not before exchanging a few heated words with Gyuvin that Matthew didn’t have the mind to make out. He doesn’t really think Gyuvin was in tune with that conversation either. 

They’re in Gunwook’s car now. He drives an SUV. Matthew wonders how good his parents have it. Or maybe Gunwook bought this with his own money.

“Matthew, look at me,” Gunwook says, grabbing his face in his hands. Gunwook’s eyes are wide and scared. His pupils are dilated. Wobbling. 

“Why’d you do that? Why’d you take that from him? You can’t…” He sounds so mortified, it almost doesn’t even fit him.

“Gunwook, chill,” he says, but it doesn’t even feel like he really even said it. Oh fuck. He’s tweaking out big time. Matthew wraps a hand around his own neck and swallows a little. “It’s…it’s…I’m a grown man. I’m not a child who got peer pressured,” Matthew says next in his defense. Even though, that's kind of what really happened. He has no control over himself. Over anyone. Over anything. 

Gunwook lets go of his face and buckles him in. “This was my fault for bringing you here,” he concludes, a bothered look on his face. 

The side of Gunwook he’s grown to tolerate and honestly, have a crush on, is gone. The one who’s shameless and says what’s on his mind no matter what, who’s forward, seems to not be here in this car with Matthew right now. Gunwook has realized that Matthew is a ragged mess. He doesn’t have his shit together and he’s slowly falling apart. He’s no role model. Gunwook won’t want anything to do with him after tonight. The two months they’ve spent together are pointless now. 

Matthew feels like crying suddenly. They could’ve had an okay night, just gotten by with a slightly tipsy Matthew. Maybe Gunwook would’ve still let him suck his dick. Probably not. He knows it’s not happening now, for sure.

Matthew leans his head against the window, body falling against the car door like a magnet to a fridge, and closes his eyes. 

“Matthew,” a voice says, shaking him. Matthew's eyes fly open as he sits up in his seat. The seatbelt locks suddenly and he stupidly flings right back into the chair. Gunwook laughs beside him. 

“Hey, what do you want from here? You need to eat something, you’re crashing,” Gunwook says, reaching over to undo his seatbelt for him so he can actually sit up. But Matthew can barely make sense of the drive-thru menu, he thinks he’s still out of it. He rubs his eyes. “Just anything. Get something you like too. We can share,” Matthew mumbles.

When Matthew receives the food, one of those fold up boxes, and opens it, he sees chicken and nearly starts crying. 

“Gunwook,” Matthew whines, feeling his bottom lip tremble. “You care about me?” Yeah, he’s still out of it.

They’re parked at the front of the drive-thru line. Pulled up enough so other cars can get past them if needed. No one’s here though. It’s late for a weekday.

“Of course I care about you, Hyungie,” Gunwook says, turning in his seat.

“But I’m a bad person, and I did cocaine. And I’m being cheated on. And I’m a bad mentor. I suck, you shouldn’t admire me,” Matthew babbles out, now with tears falling down his cheeks. Gunwook reaches forward and wipes at them with his sleeves. “You’re not a bad person Matthew,” Gunwook laughs, sweetly, heavenly to Matthew at the moment. 

“Eat your food,” he says, buckling his own seatbelt back up and putting the car out of park. 

Matthew does. Eat his food. And it tastes great.

There’s a stark difference between waking up next to Gunwook instead of Taerae. Even before everything that’s happened between him and Taerae — everything that has pulled them apart. If they had fallen asleep cuddling, they’d always find a way to separate in the middle of the night. Technically that was natural. Shifting around in your sleep like that. 

However, it doesn’t happen with Gunwook. Granted, this is the first time Matthew has woken up next to him in a bed, but he’s there. Wrapped around Matthew as if he’s scared he’ll vanish. It’s kind of nice, like how Matthew loves being bundled in blankets. Gunwook is the blanket. 

Matthew cracks open his eyes, glancing around him. He’s in an unknown room, he can only assume it’s Gunwook’s. It’s very bare. Probably because he’s renting. The bed takes up most of the room because it’s a full sized or maybe a queen. 

God, what is today? Thursday? 

“Stop moving around,” Gunwook grumbles against his skin, where his face is stuffed into Matthew’s neck. So he’s awake too.

“We have to get up,” Matthew responds, even though he’s not even sure what time it is. His phone is probably still fucked.

Gunwook lifts his head and Matthew is able to get a good look at his face. He laughs. Because Gunwook is so cute when he’s just woken up.

“You look like a baby,” Matthew says, a grin forming mid-sentence. 

“I’m not a baby,” Gunwook replies, wiping a hand down the side of his face. He glances over at the window. 

“No seriously what time is it?” Matthew asks, patting around for any phone really. He honestly doesn’t even know how last night ended. Or what he did after eating his chicken. 

“It’s a holiday.”

“What?” What holiday could it be? Then again, Matthew’s not really in tune with the work calendar. He only memorizes dates he needs to.

“You think I would invite you to a party knowing we have work in the morning?”

“Yes, you’re annoying,” Matthew says, curling his arms around Gunwook’s shoulders. When he does that he notices that he changed clothes yet again. Matthew glances down as best as he can, noticing he’s in a t-shirt with random words on it. It doesn’t fit him, like the rest of Gunwook’s clothes don’t. Last night comes to him in an instant for some reason: taking a shower and laughing at Gunwook’s floral smelling body wash. Hey, my mom got that for me, he said. Brushing his teeth, with Gunwook’s toothbrush, because he insisted. We’ve kissed each other before you know, he said. Matthew thinks it’s still kind of gross. Not even married couples do that. He hopes Gunwook throws that away and gets another one. 

“You look sexy in my shirt,” Gunwook says, fingers playing with the sleeves of the one Matthew has on. 

“I probably look like shit right now,” he laughs. At least he feels alright. He thinks he woke up in the middle of the night and felt like he was going to die when he accidentally sat up too fast, but he feels okay now. Maybe he was hallucinating. “I’m never doing coke again," Matthew declares.

“Good, you shouldn’t.”

“Are you a goody two shoes? I kinda like it, Gunwookie is totally my type,” Matthew says, letting one of his hands curve out the side of Gunwook’s face. He’s wide awake now. “Wanna corrupt you.”

It’s a joke. A corny joke. But he’s kind of getting turned on. Probably because it’s Gunwook. Because they’re this close. Because it’s been a week since the last time they kissed each other and Matthew’s not okay with that. He’s not okay with being away from Gunwook at all anymore.

“Yeah?” Gunwook plays along, he drapes himself over Matthew now, so the angle isn’t restricting his movements. Easily, he bends down, warm lips brushing over the side of Matthew’s throat. His teeth come out next, nipping at the skin like a dog would to a chew toy he’s not sure how rough he can be with. Matthew’s hands find their place in his hair. It’s so soft. So full.

Matthew can’t think of the last time he’s gotten a hickey. Maybe a year or something ago. He was usually the one giving them to Taerae. So this feels foreign — having Gunwook suck on his neck like he’s trying to break the skin. It feels too good. His cock is already chubbing up in whatever boxers he has on — maybe Gunwook’s. That turns him on even more too. The fact that they share.

Matthew lets out a little whine, causing Gunwook to pull away, but not before leaving a kiss over the sure to bruise mark he just created on his neck. 

He kisses Matthew next, a short one that leaves Matthew wanting more. Gunwook sits up on his knees, before shuffling down the bed. His hands look really big on Matthew’s thighs when he places them there — when he parts Matthew’s legs to fit himself in between them officially. 

“You're so strong,” Gunwook comments, watching Matthew’s muscles flex underneath his hands. Matthew gasps a little, hardly there, when he pulls down his boxers next with no warning. Matthew wants to reach out for him and say that this isn’t fair because Gunwook’s been doing all of the giving recently. Matthew wants to touch him too. But none of those words come out. Gunwook loves this — lives for this. Matthew does too. He loves the attention.

“Your body is so tiny,” Gunwook says, eyes dragging up his frame, “but your cock is big.” Matthew goes ahead and throws an arm over his face to cool off the embarrassment he feels. Gunwook doesn’t need to verbalize his every thought like that. Maybe he’s doing that to mess with him, he probably is. It’s Matthew’s fault for not telling him to stop yet. 

The boxers are soon off his legs entirely, leaving his bottom half naked and for Gunwook to see. Then he’s being pulled, kind of yanked a little. Gunwook is folding his legs over his shoulders, gripping onto his thighs. His face is just mere inches away from Matthew’s cock. Oh god, Matthew thinks. 

“G-Gunwook.”

Gunwook doesn’t respond, he’s kind of nuzzling his face into Matthew’s thigh, saying how much he loves it, how soft he is. Then he’s brushing his lips over the skin around his cock, not directly over it. Matthew’s hips jump. Gunwook holds him down. 

“Ah. You’re fun to mess with,” Gunwook laughs. And he looks so pure and sweet. Matthew wants to cry. 

“Gunwookie,” Matthew whines out the nickname that he’s never really used much before. It seems to affect him too based on the way he squeezes at Matthew’s thighs. “Please.” 

Gunwook licks a long and sloppy stripe up the side of his cock, smiling, even with his tongue out, more so when it twitches. 

“Can I blow you?” Gunwook asks, laughing at the expression Matthew makes after hearing the question. He’s so annoying. In between his legs, like a dumb dog ready for dinner. He’s already put his tongue on Matthew’s cock, but for some reason he needed to ask for consent to go all in. Matthew, not trusting himself to speak, kind of just pushes his hips up and nods. Good enough response. 

It’s so hot, watching Gunwook wrap his pink lips around the head, glancing up at Matthew as he does. Matthew wants to ask him if he’s ever sucked a dick before, but he doesn’t really want to hear whatever Gunwook replies with. For now, he’ll just believe him as Gunwook’s first to be true. He wants him to be all his. Only Matthew’s. All for Matthew. His secret.

Gunwook’s good at taking it too. He wants to card his fingers through his hair again, and call him puppy. Matthew makes an attempt to do the action too, but Gunwook grabs his wrists and pins them at his sides by his hips. Matthew whines, head lolling to the side, breathing harshly into the pillow. Gunwook pulls off of him, then lets one of Matthew’s hands go so he can start stroking him. Matthew’s hips buck up wildly kind of into his fist, something he didn’t even know he had in him. 

“Wanna see you cum,” Gunwook says, egging him on. 

Matthew doesn’t have time to feel shy. To give Gunwook a warning that it’ll get on him and he’ll feel bad. He doesn’t have any of that in him. 

“Almost there?”

“Yes-yes. Yes,” Matthew pants out.

Then Gunwook does something he doesn’t expect. He moves up from in between Matthew’s legs to attach their mouths together — his hand is still tight around Matthew’s cock. Matthew’s jaw goes slack when Gunwook kisses him, just letting his mouth hang open so they can breathe into each other’s mouths. Gunwook is running his tongue over his bottom lip when Matthew cums all over his fist. 

He never gets used to it. How it feels being with Gunwook. He thinks he may never get used to it.

The adult version of a walk of shame is the drive of shame. 

Except Matthew feels no shame at all, he has the radio turned up as he bobs his head to the rhythm of the song playing. One he doesn’t even know. He’s trying to sing along to the lyrics, but he just sounds lost and dumb. He’s kind of screwed, because his phone is officially broken and won’t turn back on. And that’s not a bad thing because of the many texts that he’s probably (or not, who knows) missing from Taerae, but because he has to depend on his memory to navigate his way back home from Gunwook’s apartment. He’s only done it once before, so it’s a bit difficult. He turns down a couple of wrong roads, but eventually makes it to a familiar highway.

But he’s happy. And warm in more of Gunwook’s clothes, since the ones he slept in got ruined. Damn. Gunwook is going to have to do a lot of laundry. Next time he sees him, Matthew has to make it up to him. For sure.

When Matthew is coming down the street that their house sits on, he’s met with an unfortunate scene: there’s a car parked in their driveway already. A sports car, that’s obnoxiously fancy. Matthew slows to a stop, breaking a few houses down, so he’s not noticeable immediately. 

It’s Jiwoong’s; he sees him getting out of the car. Matthew can see him in his stupid beanie with his perfect stupid round head. He has this maniacal urge to just start driving, driving until he gets to their house and swerving into their driveway and just crashing into the side of his car. Matthew might kill himself in the process, but it’d be worth it. Maybe he has some cocaine still lingering in his system. He’s crazy. 

He watches Jiwoong walk up his front steps and ring the doorbell which is weird. In all the pictures he’s seen, he’s usually going through the garage. Their garage isn’t up however.

If Matthew’s phone worked he’d be able to see if Taerae was home, but since it doesn’t he’s left in the dark. Jiwoong kind of jumps on his feet, probably because it’s freezing outside today for some reason. He peeks into the house. He’s waiting. Taerae isn’t at home, is he.

What a pleasant scenario that has fallen into Matthew’s hands. 

Not thinking it through much, he shifts the car into drive and pulls up the street, parking beside their mailbox. 

Jiwoong automatically whips around when he hears maybe the engine of Matthew’s car. He gets out. Acting as normal as possible. Even checks their mailbox and pulls a few things out. It’s junkmail really, but thank god it’s there.

He swears, when he’s about halfway up the driveway, Jiwoong looks like he’s considering making a run for it. Matthew won’t let him get away that easily.

He lifts a hand in the air and waves it excitedly, as nears the front door. 

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Jiwoong looks stiff up close, it’s laughable. He pulls down his mask though and smiles at Matthew.

“Hey, Matt. I was just here for Taerae.” Matt. Matthew resists the urge to roll his eyes. Only his friends call him that. “Yes, of course. I know you guys are best friends now, huh?” Matthew says, as he moves past him to unlock the door. “I don’t think he’s here, but you’re welcome to come in and wait for him.”

It’s a bad idea, but Matthew has always liked bad ideas. 

Jiwoong also seems to think that’s a bad idea. Like he doesn’t want to be here when the whole thing goes down. Matthew doesn’t even blame him actually. “Are you sure?” he asks. 

Matthew opens the door and gestures for him to come in. “Positive. Do you like coffee?”

There are many things that are racing through Matthew’s mind as he sits across from the man who’s fucking his husband. 

Jiwoong is, for one, way too comfortable in his house. He said he needed to use the bathroom and just walked in the direction of it. Matthew thought that was ridiculous. Both of them don’t even care enough to act in front of Matthew. They can’t even pretend. What did Matthew do in a past life to deserve this?

“The coffee is good,” Jiwoong mentions with a content nod. Matthew nods back, slowly, taking a sip of his own. 

“So,” Matthew begins, sitting his mug down on the side table, “what’d you need to see Taerae for?”

Jiwoong pulls his beanie off, revealing his oddly still perfect stupid hair. He’s handsome, Matthew will give it to him and Taerae, he guesses. If Taerae cheated on him with an ugly guy that’d be unforgivable. “Actually it’s good that I got to you too. I can always talk to Taerae another time,” he says, waving his hands.

“I bet you can,” Matthew mumbles. 

“What was that?”

Matthew sits up in the chair. “Nothing! So what are we talking about?”

“I wanted to invite you guys to a retreat my company is hosting during Valentines Day weekend. It’s coming up soon, y’know. It’s really just a thanks to Taerae, his team has been helping me out with a project.”

Is that just an excuse for why they’ve been spending so much time together? Is Matthew supposed to believe that? Maybe it’s the truth. And that’s how they ended up falling for each other. It sounds like a cute story, honestly. 

It’s February now, Matthew knows that. He thinks Valentine's day is only a few days away. Is this yet another thing on short notice? Why does he have no concept of time? “A retreat? That sounds fancy.”

“Yes,” Jiwoong nods, “my wife and I have gone multiple times before. It has a great view. Fun activities for couples,” he adds on, like he’s referring to Matthew and Taerae. Sure.

Jiwoong is still married. Matthew completely forgot that Hanbin told him about that part. Matthew had assumed that maybe they’d gotten caught and that’s what caused their relationship to end. He never pressed Hanbin to tell him. 

“And will you and your wife be there?”

“Of course we will! I’d love for you guys to meet her.”

“I would too,” Matthew smiles, he reaches over for his coffee and takes a long sip. 

4:51 pm. Taerae was at the office, actually at the office working overtime on a holiday, which was the reason why he wasn’t at home. He scowled at Matthew when he walked in, probably because he had the car and doesn’t have a working phone still. 

“Hi Mr. I take the car and don’t communicate with my husband or come home at night,” Taerae waves at him as he closes the front door. Okay, that’s fair. He deserves that, but Matthew is in the mood to deflect. Give him a hard time. 

“Taerae my phone is broken,” he says to him over his shoulder from where he’s sitting at the island. “I’ve told you like six times already.”

“Then get a new one,” Taerae snaps.

“I have work. I’m busy.”

Taerae rolls his eyes and passes him as he enters the kitchen, looking in the fridge. Matthew watches him, with a glass of whatever wine was available in front of him. This is his second cup. He may have a problem, considering he barely likes wine. After talking to Jiwoong, and processing everything, he needed to take off the edge.

“Hey, your boyfriend came by,” Matthew mentions casually, taking another sip.

Taerae closes the fridge empty handed. The look on his face when he turns around is priceless, in Matthew’s opinion. “What are you talking about?” That tone is new. He doesn’t sound like he’s ready to deny and act like Matthew is crazy. This is what he’s been waiting for hasn’t he? The moment. Matthew doesn't like it.

“Jiwoong-hyung? He came by looking for you. He invited you on the honeymoon trip.”

“Honeymoon trip?”

“To a retreat,” Matthew clarifies, “on the weekend of Valentines. To you know, fuck him behind his wife’s back.”

Taerae blinks at him. “If that was a joke it wasn’t very funny,” he says, taking off his scarf. His ears are red. And it can’t be from the cold because they weren’t red before. Matthew’s finally got him.

“It wasn’t a joke, it was a fact, right? Tell me I’m wrong. I’d love that, honestly. Make me laugh."

“Are you suggesting that I’m cheating on you?”

Matthew does laugh. “And that’s just so out of character for you, right? You would never.”

Taerae’s jaw locks or tightens or something. Something shifts in his face. Matthew really wonders why he’s keeping up the facade — committing to this little bit he and Jiwoong have. If Matthew were him, he would’ve admitted to it by now. “I wouldn’t do that to you...” he says, quietly. He's lying.

“I’m not mad,” Matthew says with a shrug, tipping back the rest of the wine in his glass. He shivers. 

“You’re not?”

“Not at all, let’s open our relationship,” he says, hopping off the stool. “That would be good for us, don’t you think?”

Taerae's lips are pulled thin, the corners of his mouth downturned. Matthew walks closer, glass in hand, observing his face. “Is that not what you want?”

“No. Matthew, let me explain,” Taerae says, grabbing onto his forearm. Matthew pulls away, way more dramatically than he should. Yup. Sweet, sweet wine. 

“Get off of me,” he says, turning his back to Taerae. Something dark — something nightmarish creeps over him and absorbs him fully. Maybe the emotions he’s been repressing since he found out about the entire thing. “I hate you,” he says, with a frown on his face. He doesn’t mean it entirely, not directly at Taerae, just everything he is right now, what he’s been for the past few months. He says it to hurt him in the way he’s been hurt.

“You should’ve just told me. It would've been better if you had just told me," Matthew chokes out. Don't cry. Don't cry.

“You’re not innocent,” Taerae says back. And tipsy Matthew doesn’t expect it. He turns around to stare at him. 

“How so?”

“I know you’re seeing someone,” Taerae accuses him.

“Only because you did it first!” Matthew says in a half shout, arms flailing. He laughs, putting his hand over his eyes. “Ah. You’re right. I should’ve just sat around and let you hurt me all day. That’s completely fair.”

"It shouldn't be a competition Matthew." Taerae starts walking out of the kitchen. Matthew follows behind him. They’re not done. They can’t be done. “We haven’t been the same for a long time, I knew a long time ago that you started feeling different.”

It's scary how Taerae's words mimic his own thoughts. So what. He did. But he tried to ignore those thoughts. It wasn’t like they took over his behavior completely. Had Taerae really realized that quickly?

“Did you ever ask me? No, you didn’t. If you saw the problem why didn’t you suggest couples therapy. Why’d you make no attempt to fix anything?” Matthew argues. It’s not fair, how Taerae barely tried with him. Is he just something worth giving up on?

“Because you’re hard to deal with!” Taerae stops walking. He turns around, face still in a scowl — cast in a shadow since they’re near the stairs now. The same place they had that argument months ago. Except Matthew is the tipsy one now.

“So I’m a burden to you, okay. Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place.” 

The room felt quite dark after he said that. Darker than it was before. Quiet. Matthew left the faucet on in the kitchen he thinks. He hears it dripping. 

Taerae looks hurt. Matthew wants to apologize suddenly, but it’s buried deep down, under piles of anger.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have Matthew,” he says.

“Maybe,” Matthew says, wanting the last word.

“You’re a drunk,” Taerae says, pushing him out of the way. Matthew stumbles back. “You’re falling apart. Go drink some water.”

“Because of you,” Matthew mumbles out, barely there, so quiet he’s sure Taerae doesn’t hear it. “Because of you,” he says one more time. Taerae’s footsteps up the stairs are loud in his ears. 

Taerae doesn’t look back.

There was one benefit to being wine drunk: Matthew had no hesitations about being financially irresponsible. He was plopped on the couch with his laptop in his lap, a few dried tears on his cheeks, as he ordered a new phone and a few other things off of Amazon. Prime shipping too. He’s just happy their address and credit card information was pre-saved. If you asked him to type all of that into the keyboard, it would have gone terribly. 

Since Valentine's Day falls on a Friday, Taerae decides to go on the retreat because it’s 'convenient'.

“I think we can work through our problems when I get back, that is if you want Matthew,” he says to him in the moments they have together before his Uber arrives. Matthew had offered to take him to the airport himself, but of course Taerae declined. 

Matthew didn’t know what to say. They had spent the past week kind of just living around each other. Matthew in the guest room. Taerae in their room. They weren’t eating together or really greeting each other in the morning or evening. It was sad, even though they had technically already been living that way. It was just more serious now. Something officially changed. Something that could never be taken back. Something burned.

A small part of him hoped they could come back from this. It didn’t have to be romantic either — in fact it was probably for the better if it wasn’t — but that part was too hard to really admit yet. Matthew just didn’t want Taerae to not be his friend. That was too much. He knew that much.

Taerae seems to notice words are hard for Matthew in the moment. He reaches to squeeze his hand one last time. The first contact they'd had in a week, before pulling his luggage down the steps. 

“Have a safe flight,” Matthew is able to say, at least. Taerae waves. Matthew watches him until he's in the car and driving away before closing the door.

Matthew’s fixing himself. Or, trying to. 

He had enough PTO built up from over the years to take this week off. It’ll kick him in the ass when he gets back to work, but he’ll enjoy the now and worry about the future later.

He goes and gets a haircut, not anything drastic, not much comes off. Just the semi-mullet he’s been growing. His fringe is still long enough to fall over his forehead. It’s good. He looks good. Less rough. It's a confidence boost.

When his new phone comes he immediately sets it up and transfers his contacts. And god, is it nice to have a phone that doesn’t slice open his finger tips. A phone that works, literally. 

He pours out the three bottles of wine that they have in their pantry. Down the toilet. Taerae will kill him when he gets back, but it must be done. He needs no temptations. He will lock himself in this house, and only drink water and coffee.

“Hello?” Matthew says into his phone after putting it on speaker.

“Matthewwwwww,” Hanbin whines out sadly, “I haven’t heard your voice in what feels like forever.” 

“I know. I’m sorry," Matthew apologizes. He's been keeping Hanbin in the dark about everything that's happened. He went to work for the end half of last week, but everyone noticed that he's kind of going through something. That something happened. He's not the same. Thursday dragged on. On Friday he blocked off his calendar for the next week in black. Today is Monday. First day he's took a day off work since he's gotten the job.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain right now. We can talk later, yeah?” he asks softly, tip-toeing. Matthew appreciates it honestly. He needs people to be gentle with him for once. 

“Yeah, of course."

“Hey, Gunwook misses the shit out of you. I can’t believe you have me hauling around two interns for a whole week.” Ah. Gunwook. Matthew misses him so much. He thought about texting him the moment he got his new phone, but it didn't feel right. It would've been wrong, unhealthy, to run to him in such a position. Turning to him after everything's officially went wrong. Plus, Matthew is a mess. He can't see him like this. It's humilating.

“Oh please, you’re just making them do your work aren't you?” Matthew says trying to lighten the mood.

“Hell yeah I am. But seriously, do you want me to give Gunwook your address or something? And…new phone number? Anything? He's like a dog that's been abandoned. Poor thing.”

Matthew's teeth dig into his bottom lip, only taking a split second to think about it. “Yeah, give it to him.”

“Alright. Guess one of us won’t be spending Valentine’s Day alone on Friday. I’m not jealous at all," Hanbin says dramatically.

Matthew laughs. “You need to look in your little black book.”

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“No.”

“Yes you are. It's okay though. I found this hot Chinese guy on Hinge. I'm gonna freak him," Hanbin sings.

"Ew...someone might hear you, stop," Matthew jokingly says back.

"Goodbye Matt. Love you. Hey Gunwook pick that up for me!"

"Bye. Be nice to my intern."

The sun is at its peak when Gunwook appears on his front door step, which is out of the ordinary. It's also the same exact day, Monday still. Matthew expected him to turn up on a Friday, around the evening time or maybe in the dead of night honestly. Did Hanbin let him off early?

He’s holding a box of pizza in his hand, and a bottle of soda in the other. And he looks so cute, like something straight out of one of Matthew’s dreams. “Gunwookie…” Matthew says, eyes trailing down to everything he holds, then back up to his face. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't answer that question. “Hyung,” Gunwook grins. And Matthew has really missed the way he smiles at Matthew like he created the world and the oxygen he breathes in. “I missed you.”

"Come in, you shouldn't even be here," Matthew realizes, pulling Gunwook into the house and shutting the door. He sees Gunwook kind of wandering around, marveling at everything their home is. Matthew pulls the bottle of soda from his hand and sits on the counter a couple of feet away. Gunwook follows him with the pizza. "It's cheese," he mentions, as he sits it down. Surely enough, when Matthew opens the box it is a cheese pizza, in the shape of a heart. 

"Valentine's Day special?" Matthew laughs

Gunwook nods curtly, taking off his backpack and resting it on a stool nearby. "Made with love," he mentions, rounding the island to get to where Matthew stands. He tugs on his sleeves of Matthew’s hoodie — Gunwook's hoodie — pulling him closer. "Will you be mine?" he asks. 

Matthew rocks up on his feet to press a chaste kiss to his lips, because he just felt like it. "Sure," he says.  Gunwook doesn't kiss him again, like he expects. He wraps his arms over Matthew's shoulders, pulling him closer by the neck before resting his head on top of his. It's far from the first time they’ve hugged or kiss, but Matthew's heart is pounding in his chest like it is.

"Why are you off so early?" Matthew asks, lifting his head. 

"Hanbin said I could go. He was worried about you. I was too."

"I'm fine though," Matthew lies. And he knows Gunwook can tell he's lying. "I'm fine now that you're here with me," Matthew adds on. 

"I can stay with you. Hanbin said he'd fix my time sheet for the week and that I can just be with you."

"Look at him, trying to be the cool boss. Remember, no one's cooler than me," Matthew jokes, squeezing around his waist. 

They end up eating pizza while watching TV that afternoon. For a few hours, Matthew forgets all his problems exist. 

“I just,” Matthew inhales, rather shakily as he leans his head against the side of Gunwook’s face. Gunwook is so easy to hang onto — to hold — like this. Matthew’s arms are slung around him, like a cross body bag, as he sits in Gunwook’s lap. Gunwook’s hands are heavy and warm on his bare thighs.

It's night time now. Quiet. They've winded down. The giggles and playfulness started fading away. Matthew had to face Gunwook's questioning eyes. He had to.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that. At my lowest. Don’t be upset,” Matthew says, and it makes him wonder why he added on that last part, almost as if it's a defense mechanism. 

“I’m not upset. I want to be here for you, Hyung," Gunwook says, fingers grazing over his knee. 

You should be upset. I don't deserve you. You shouldn’t like me. I'm nobody. I’m a monster. I shouldn’t be loved, if you even feel an inch of that. You’re not good for me and I’m not good for you, Matthew thinks, but he stays quiet. Stays with his forehead pressed to Gunwook’s temple because it’s the one thing keeping him grounded. 

It doesn’t take very long for them to get their hands on each other. Longer than Matthew would’ve liked — a full four days to be exact. He’s just been literally trying to pull it together. Eating clean. Taking his vitamins. That's all for his physical and mental health and, he has to be perfect for the moment Gunwook fucks him for the first time. 

And Matthew wants it. He’s salivating for it like he’s a dumb dog himself. 

Gunwook’s kisses are addicting. Good. Sometimes that feels like just enough — just his mouth on Matthew’s, panting against it. It’ll be enough to make Matthew come undone. 

“Been waiting to fuck you, wanna fuck you,” Gunwook slurs into his mouth, like he’s drunk with it. “Hyung, why’d you make me wait?”

They're in the bedroom now — Matthew and Taerae’s bedroom. Gunwook shuts the door behind them even though no one’s here. Like they need privacy.

“I’m sorry Gunwookie,” Matthew says, smiling kind of into the next kiss. He likes it when Gunwook gets all beggy. It makes him feel good to know that he’s been waiting for this as much as Matthew has. Matthew falls back onto his bed when Gunwook playfully pushes on his chest with little force. He sits back up, watching Gunwook take off his shirt. It’s the first time he’s really seen him naked. Every time they had done something, it was always Matthew ending up exposed and bare. Only Matthew’s needs being tended to. Gunwook has really been waiting for this, hasn’t he? 

“You’re hot,” Matthew lets slip as he watches him. Gunwook glances up at him and smiles, then stupidly tries to get out of his pants, nearly falling in the process. “And clumsy,” he laughs.

Gunwook’s crawling into his lap soon enough, helping Matthew pull his own shirt off. Matthew lets out a noise when Gunwook is pushing him back down into the mattress with actual force this time.

“Ha. You love sitting on top of me, don’t you?” Matthew asks, fingertips grazing over Gunwook’s waist. His eyes flicker up to his, “Want me to fuck you instead?”

Matthew swears his cock twitches at his own words. It’s just a mere suggestion. One that provides the pleasant image of Matthew letting Gunwook ride him. Oh fuck, they’re practically there right now, all Matthew has to do is raise his hips and little and-

“No,” Gunwook says, face flushed, chest flushed. “You do what I want tonight Hyungie, don’t you think I deserve it?”

Matthew wants to respond with yes, because Gunwook does deserve it, but his response gets caught in his throat. Gunwook pulls his own underwear down, just enough to reveal his thick his cock. He pumps it in his hand, throwing his head back at the feeling. Matthew can’t only watch. That can’t be the only thing he can do. He tries to grab it, but Gunwook catches him before he can make contact. 

“Ah,” he breathes out, smiling down at him. He holds Matthew’s wrist in his hand as he shifts up. He’s practically sitting on Matthew’s stomach — not quite — just hovering. Then, without warning, Gunwook slaps his cock against his chest. 

The sound Matthew lets out is not exactly a moan, it’s like a cut off noise of surprise. His face immediately burns, because what was that?

He watches Gunwook do it again, this time over his nipple. Matthew jerks a little. Gunwook reaches down and pushes Matthew’s pecs together, as if he actually has fat on his muscles to do that — like he has tits — and slides his cock between them. Gunwook lets out a strangled moan over him, peering down at the way he fucking himself on Matthew’s chest. Matthew catches a good enough glimpse at how large Gunwook’s hands look on him and feels his own cock go solid hard in his briefs. Fuck, they’re so big.

Then Gunwook stops suddenly, sliding down and kissing Matthew messily. “Just wanted to do that, just once,” he laughs, sounding almost embarrassed.

“You’re dirty,” Matthew says, gasping a little when Gunwook traces his jaw with his nose, and then he traces it with his mouth, then he picks up Matthew’s arm by the bicep and runs his lips along his tattoo there. 

“Dog,” Matthew puffs out, watching Gunwook bite over the ink. “Always biting me.”

Gunwook grins, letting his arm go, and presses a kiss to his shoulder next. He hikes Matthew’s arm up further, and runs his nose over his armpit. Matthew jolts. “Gunwook stop,” he says in a laugh, because it kind of tickles.

“Can’t stop. Wanna touch every part of you,” Gunwook murmurs into his neck now, a large hand sliding up the side of Matthew’s body. He really keeps his promises, huh.

“Gunwookie,” Matthew whines out, desperate. “Fuck me, please.”

“Want it to last forever,” Gunwook says, pressing a kiss on his jaw, ignoring him. Matthew can feel him smile into his skin. He’s totally crazy, totally annoying him on purpose.

Gunwook’s hand slides south next, thankfully, kind of palming over his bulge. Matthew hips meet his hand, grinding up against it. 

“Do you want it?” Gunwook asks, teasing. Ugh. 

“Yes, please.”

That seems to be enough for Gunwook. To make him push himself off the bed and detach himself from Matthew’s body. The urge to just pull his cock out and start jerking off is so hard to ignore, but Matthew does ignore it. Gunwook hooks his hands into Matthew’s underwear and drags them off his legs. 

“Can you turn on your stomach, Hyung?” The honorific rings in his ears. Matthew follows directions, flipping onto his stomach, pressing his cheek into the comforter.

He grips onto the spot beside where his head lays when he feels hands groping his ass, pulling his cheeks apart. 

He hears Gunwook say something about he’s perfect. How he wants to fuck his tight ass. It’s dirty. Embarrassing to hear, but so good at the same time. Matthew moans into the bed, even more so when Gunwook sweeps his tongue across his rim. 

He squirms, because he hasn’t had this done to him in ages. Taerae has never. His partner before him had never. Only a few one night stands. 

“Oh fuck,” Matthew hisses out. Gunwook’s stiffening up his tongue and forcing it inside him. It’s kind of sloppy, too difficult for Gunwook to do, but it feels good. Matthew likes the effort. Matthew bends his legs up, rising to his knees a little, arching his back, pushing his ass back onto Gunwook's face.

Gunwook pulls his tongue out, sucks on his rim a bit, then spits on it. Matthew feels a shiver go down his spine. 

“Is it good Hyung?” Gunwook asks as he pushes what feels like his thumb into Matthew’s hole. Holy shit, why is using that finger first? Matthew lets out a low and guttural moan from his chest, threatening to collapse back onto his front when Gunwook’s fingers brush over his taint. 

Matthew quickly realizes Gunwook’s just playing with him, doing whatever he wants because he can. He pulls his thumb out and inserts a less, but still thick digit into his hole. Maybe his middle or index finger. Matthew straight up cries when he curls it up. 

It takes three of Gunwook’s fingers fucking into him to get Matthew to beg him to stop. It’s enough Gunwookie, please, I’ll come like this, not fair, he pleaded pathetically.

Gunwook is going to fuck him without a condom. He realizes that when he’s sliding his shaft between Matthew’s cheeks, thumbs pressed into the flesh of his ass. They shouldn’t, they really shouldn’t, but Matthew’s already out of his mind. He’s eager to get it raw and rough.

Gunwook falls over him. His knees planted beside Matthew’s kind of, his hands rooted on each side of Matthew’s head. “You look so small from this angle,” Gunwook says roughly. He’s on the verge of losing it, Matthew can tell. He bends down, teething at Matthew's shoulder. Matthew gasps when his tip catches on the rim. Fuckkkkk. He thinks. Doesn’t say. His voice is gone without actually being gone. He has no strength to speak. Gunwook guides his cock — feeds it into Matthew’s hole, inch by inch. 

Matthew is dizzy, hot inside, he feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. When Gunwook bottoms out, he just kind of starts snapping his hips into Matthew without warning, giving Matthew no time to adjust. 

Oh fuck. Matthew is really getting fucked. He can barely hold himself up on his knees. A cry gets torn out of his throat. 

Gunwook’s mouth is back on his neck, his teeth are back out to play, to bite. “You feel so good, Hyungie,” Gunwook says, nibbling at his ear next. Matthew whines, about to reach a hand down to touch himself, but he can’t. Gunwook changes their position just when he's about to. He sits on the bed instead. He pulls Matthew to his chest, them still connected where it matters most. 

“Oh fuck!" Matthew half-shouts, when he feels Gunwook pushed deep inside of him. "Gunwook, I-I won’t last,” Matthew shamefully admits. Gunwook doesn’t respond. He attaches his hands to Matthew’s waist and bounces him in his lap — on his cock. 

Pleasure shoots up his spine, through his veins, rattling his bones. Gunwook’s chest feels iron hot against his back, whenever they meet. He’s forcing, physically moving Matthew up and down on his dick. Matthew’s toes curl as he throws his head back. 

Gunwook is panting against his neck, nosing at his nape, then his jaw, before he looks down over Matthew’s shoulder.

“Wanted to see this,” he laughs slightly, taking Matthew’s throbbing cock into his hand. “How useless it looks when I fuck you. Love it so much,” he says. He's talking about Matthew's cock, the way it's been hard against stomach, flopping around.

Matthew’s hand reaches behind him. He curls his arm around to lock his fingers into Gunwook’s hair. He wants to pull it, scold him for becoming a dog that only does what he pleases. But there's no point. Matthew is close — no, actually, he’s fucking there — spurting all over his own stomach and barely (his eyes flutter close) watching it drip down Gunwook’s hand. 

Gunwook makes them fall forward, back into the position they started in. Matthew on his stomach, Gunwook fucking him from behind. And he fucks him. He bangs him really. Matthew clenches around him when Gunwook spills inside of him, hip bones flush against his ass. It feels so good to be exhausted in this sense. It feels like a relief. 

Gunwook pulls out of him, making Matthew twitch in oversensitivity, and just kind falls limp beside him, staying close. Matthew's eyes blink open lazily, staring at the side of his face, how beautiful he looks in the bedroom light. 

He doesn't think about Taerae really, for once. 

“Puppy, puppy, puppy,” Matthew says as he nips at Gunwook’s earlobe. Gunwook turns his head a little, hissing, since there’s no room for him to get away. They’re in the bathtub that he never uses. Baths are for relaxation and playing with bubbles only really. A shower is what got the actual dirt off. Matthew prompted the idea for them to get in after they were done. He didn’t care about being pruney.

It feels weird to finally be in their (very nice he must add) bathtub. And it’s funny, because both of them have a hard time fitting. Gunwook’s limbs are too long. He’s too much body. But they made it work somehow, probably just not in the way Gunwook expected. Matthew’s back is against the rim of the tub while Gunwook is pressed to his chest, he scooted down a little, not too much, knees bent up since they can’t stretch out all the way. 

“I still haven’t really gotten to touch you,” Matthew whispers, letting his hands slide down Gunwook’s torso. He sees Gunwook's cock bob out of the water at the touch, where it was lying soft against his thigh moments ago. Matthew laughs. Even though they just finished about an hour ago, he’s still ready for more.

“It’s my turn, you hear me,” he says in a joking growl.

Gunwook sighs out, relaxing into his hold. He shudders when Matthew reaches down to take his twitching cock into his hand. The slide is good. Easy because Gunwook is already wet from the bath water. Pre-come starts pooling at the tip. Matthew thumbs at it, spreading around the swollen head. Gunwook yelps, he jolts, bath water splashes around, some out of the tub. He throws his head back against Matthew’s shoulder. 

“You’re just Hyung’s big boy huh? My doggy? You’ve been acting this entire time, right?” Matthew’s just teasing him now, riling him up as he starts jacking Gunwook off. It’s fun. It’s everything. And it’s so good, hearing his whimpers echo off the walls. 

“You don’t have to be quiet. No one’s here. Just us,” Matthew says, pressing a kiss to his neck, as if it’ll stay there forever.

“Hyung, faster, please,” Gunwook breathes out. Since he said please, Matthew goes ahead and moves his hand faster. He hooks his chin over Gunwook’s shoulder and watches him unfold from his touch completely. His hips are fucking up into his hand frantically, but controlled since they’re in water. He’s chasing the feeling. 

So Matthew just has to be evil. 

He releases Gunwook’s cock out of his hold, making Gunwook release a literal high pitched whine. “Hyung,” Gunwook complains, curling his neck to nudge his face into Matthew’s, like he’s some type of bull. Matthew laughs. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, taking Gunwook back into his hand. Except this time he goes slower, and it doesn’t take much. He squeezes the head and watches Gunwook release everything he’s been bundling up.

Gunwook is kind of different that night, in Matthew's opinion. Nothing like he usually is. For a while it seemed like he was the one blanketing Matthew, protecting him from the world. Now it feels like that’s what Matthew is doing for him. 

The boy lays in his arms peacefully, asleep, as Matthew combs through his hair. He feels fragile, like he can be broken. And that’s the moment where Matthew realizes what they have is wrong. Bad, for both of them. He wonders if Gunwook knows that too. Or if he’s just avoiding acknowledging it. 

That doesn’t mean Matthew will stop this — whatever complicated thing they have. He's flawed. He loves it. And right now, it’s all he has.