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Is it possible to dream of the same person over and over again?
Not just once or twice—but in fragments of different lives, in shifting scenarios that feel disconnected yet somehow… continuous. A stranger who appears so often that they begin to feel familiar, even more real than the people you meet when you’re awake.
And what if that person doesn’t exist in your reality?
Wonwoo used to think it was nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him—an overactive imagination, a coincidence stretched too far, something easily dismissed if he simply stopped thinking about it.
But it kept happening.
Again and again.
He didn’t know the man’s name. Had never seen him in real life. There was no memory to trace him back to, no explanation that made sense.
And yet, his dreams with him were so vivid that they lingered long after he woke up.
Not just the face. Not just the voice.
Every detail.
Every expression.
Every fleeting moment that should have been forgotten—but never was.
The man in his dreams existed in every possible version of his life, appearing in different situations as if he had always belonged there. The details would change, the settings would shift, yet nothing ever felt unfamiliar. No matter how different each dream was, there was always something constant tying them together in a way Wonwoo couldn’t explain.
He was always with him.
In some dreams, he was the man’s boyfriend, navigating something soft and uncertain, slowly learning what it meant to be loved by him. In others, he was already his husband, moving through a life that felt steady, lived-in, and real in a way that was almost unsettling. And in the dreams that lingered the longest, the ones that refused to fade even after he woke up, he saw himself as something more—a father, sharing a life that felt complete.
It was too consistent, too detailed, that at some point Wonwoo realized he had begun building an entirely different life in his dreams—one that felt so complete, yet so distant from the reality he woke up to every day.
And despite the confusion, despite the unease that came with not understanding what was happening, he couldn’t deny the truth he kept trying to ignore. Beneath all the questions and uncertainty, there was something else quietly taking root.
Anticipation.
Because no matter how strange it was, no matter how little sense it made, a part of him always looked forward to seeing that man again—to stepping back into that life, even just for a moment, and finding out how their story would continue.
Wonwoo had already come to terms with the possibility that the man from his dreams might exist in real life. It no longer felt entirely impossible, not after everything he had seen, everything he had experienced night after night. Still, even if such a meeting were to happen, he couldn’t help but question how much of it would actually carry over.
Because what were the odds?
What were the chances that everything he had come to know—the habits, the emotions, the life they had built together—would reflect anything real in this world? That the man he might meet in reality would be even remotely the same as the one who had become so familiar to him in his dreams?
It felt unlikely. Unrealistic, even.
And yet, a part of him couldn’t completely dismiss it, no matter how hard he tried.
“Wonwoo, are you okay?” It was Jeonghan, seated beside him, who nudged him lightly. There was a hint of concern in his voice as he studied Wonwoo’s expression. “Did you not sleep well last night?”
As the team leader of the Scent & Sensory Team, Jeonghan rarely missed details like this.
Wonwoo gave a small smile and shook his head, trying to appear composed.
“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Just a bit nervous about the meeting.”
“Mr. Kang already assured us that the new division director is highly qualified,” Jun chimed in from across the table, one of the members of the Scent & Sensory Team. “Overqualified, actually—and apparently he has a good personality too.”
Today marked the official launch of the new division—RQ&S Atelier’s Radiance Line.
For years, RQ&S Atelier had built its name in the industry through its Essence Line. From perfumes to colognes crafted for both men and women, the brand had gained recognition worldwide, known for its refined and distinctive scents. Now, it was stepping beyond fragrance, venturing into skincare with the same level of precision and artistry.
The newly formed team was carefully selected, most of its members coming from the Essence Line—handpicked, the best of the best. This new division was a critical turning point, and failure was not an option.
Wonwoo, who had served as a team leader under the Product Development Team in the Essence Line, was assigned the same role for the Radiance Line. It was a responsibility he was familiar with, yet the weight of it felt entirely different this time.
And with that, they were about to meet the newly hired director of the Radiance Line.
Mr. Kang, the CEO, had spoken highly of him—perhaps a little too highly.
“You know what? I tried asking Jihoon who the new director is—even just his name so I could look him up—but he didn’t spill anything,” Soonyoung said, pouting. He looked genuinely betrayed that Jihoon, the CEO’s secretary—his boyfriend, no less—had refused to tell him.
“Good,” Seungkwan replied without hesitation. “Because Jihoon hyung knows you’d probably end up telling everyone anyway.”, Seungkwan said, who was part of Wonwoo’s team.
“Yah! Kwan…”
“Okay, kids, behave,” Joshua said, team leader of the Brand Strategy & Marketing Team , glancing at them with a small smile. “They could walk in any second, and you don’t want to be seen as kindergarteners bickering instead of working professionals, do you?”
Wonwoo simply shook his head again, quietly removing his glasses to wipe them clean, his movements absentminded as his thoughts lingered elsewhere. He had just finished when the glass door of the meeting room slid open, and Mr. Kang’s voice immediately filled the space, reaching all four corners with ease.
“Well, hello, my dream team!”
Even in his fifties, the CEO carried a hearty laugh and an undeniably bright presence, the kind that could lighten the mood of an entire room without effort. Everyone quickly stood up to greet him, their voices overlapping in polite unison, though it didn’t go unnoticed that someone had entered right behind him.
Wonwoo tried to look, but without his glasses, everything beyond a few feet was nothing more than a blur of shapes and movement, leaving him momentarily frustrated at the timing.
“Everyone, this is Kim Mingyu, the director of RQ&S Atelier’s Radiance Line.”
Wonwoo could feel the newcomer standing slightly closer on his side, his presence more noticeable than it should have been, though his vision remained frustratingly blurred. It was only when Wonwoo slipped his glasses back on, the world sharpening back into place, that he finally saw him clearly.
For a brief moment, everything seemed to still.
“It’s nice to meet everyone,” Mingyu said, his voice calm and steady, carrying a quiet confidence that settled naturally into the room.
But it wasn’t his confidence that caught Wonwoo off guard—no, it wasn’t anything as simple as that. What settled in his chest was something far heavier, something that left him utterly aghast as he stared at the man in front of him, his thoughts unraveling faster than he could keep up.
“Hubby…”
The word slipped out before he could stop it, barely above a whisper, so soft it seemed to exist only in the space between them. In the quiet of the room, it was unlikely anyone else caught it—but Mingyu definitely did.
The moment it left his lips, Wonwoo froze, his breath catching as if he had just exposed something he was never meant to say aloud.
He noticed it then—the subtle change in the newcomer’s expression. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there. A flicker. A crack in that calm, composed exterior. Yet Mingyu said nothing, only continued to look at him in a way that felt far too knowing, far too familiar.
Was it his eyes betraying him, or was fate truly playing some kind of twisted game? Because what do you mean that the man he had only ever known in his dreams… was standing right in front of him now?
Kim Mingyu.
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Aside from Kim Mingyu appearing out of nowhere, his presence alone was enough to keep Wonwoo constantly on edge. There was something about him that made Wonwoo hyperaware, as if he had to be cautious with every word, every glance, every movement whenever Mingyu was around—and when he said every time, he meant it. As one of the team leaders, he was required to report frequently, sometimes even daily, about the progress of the development for their first-ever Radiance Line set, which meant interacting with Mingyu had quickly become unavoidable.
But what unsettled Wonwoo even more was something he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he tried.
The dreams had stopped.
The exact day he met him.
It wasn’t gradual, nor did it fade like most dreams do. It simply ended, as if something had been completed, or perhaps… transferred. As if the man who once existed only in fragments of his sleep had stepped into reality, leaving no reason for those dreams to continue. It was the kind of thing no one could properly explain, and yet Wonwoo felt it so clearly it was almost suffocating.
And then there were the small things.
The details.
The kind that shouldn’t be possible.
Just like during a product proposal meeting, where they were discussing potential scents for their next release under the Radiance Line.
“Since RQ&S Atelier is originally a fragrance company, it only makes sense that our Radiance Line incorporates subtle scents as well—that’s what we’re known for,” Joshua explained, his tone calm yet confident. “It’s also a good way to attract more people and spark their curiosity, encouraging them to explore our new products.”
Everyone looked at each other, trying to get some suggestions from the team members but before anyone could actually talk, Mingyu, who had been quietly reading through a report, spoke without looking up.
“Lavender.”
The room fell into a brief silence, attention shifting toward him in mild curiosity. Some nodded as an agreement. But Wonwoo—Wonwoo felt something else entirely.
Mingyu seemed to realize it a second too late, his eyes flickering up as if caught off guard by his own answer. He paused, then let out a small, almost awkward breath before adding that lavender simply made sense, that they hadn’t explored it yet in their line. It was a reasonable explanation—professional, even—but it did nothing to ease the tension tightening in Wonwoo’s chest.
It was the same thing he was about to suggest. The exact scent.
Probably, for Mingyu, it was nothing more than a passing guess—something casually thrown into the discussion without much thought behind it. But for Wonwoo, it landed differently, settling deep in his chest in a way he couldn’t quite ignore. Because lavender wasn’t just any scent to him; it was his favorite. It was personal—something he had never openly shared with anyone beyond his family… and Mingyu. In his dreams.
His heart gave a small, unsteady jump when the director’s gaze shifted toward him, followed by a faint smile. To anyone else, it might have looked like nothing more than a simple, professional gesture—polite, expected, easily overlooked. Yet for Wonwoo, that brief curve of lips was enough to stir something far more complicated, a quiet rush of emotions he tried—and failed—to keep contained deep within himself.
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Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the coincidence—on how Mingyu had just proven, so effortlessly, how closely he resembled the man from his dreams. It felt dangerous to linger on it, as if thinking too much might blur the line between what was real and what his mind had carefully constructed. So he pushed it aside, convincing himself it was nothing more than a harmless overlap, an easy guess anyone could have made.
That morning, he headed to the office pantry to make himself a cup of coffee, hoping the familiar routine would steady him. He could never function properly without caffeine, especially not this early, and instead of going out to buy one, he preferred making it himself. The office always had freshly brewed coffee ready anyway, and there was comfort in preparing it the way he liked—simple, predictable, controlled.
The moment he stepped inside, however, he immediately regretted it.
Mingyu was already there.
For a second, Wonwoo considered turning around and leaving, pretending he had forgotten something at his desk, but the chance slipped away the instant Mingyu looked up and smiled at him. It wasn’t a grand gesture—just a quiet, easy curve of his lips—but it was enough to root Wonwoo in place.
Mingyu, meanwhile, seemed completely at ease, focused on preparing his own coffee as if Wonwoo’s presence didn’t disrupt him in the slightest.
Wonwoo forced himself to move, walking in while carefully leaving a safe distance between them, as though proximity itself might give him away. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted, adding a small, polite bow out of habit.
“Morning, Wonwoo.”
It had already been two weeks since Mingyu started working there, yet hearing his name roll so naturally off the director’s tongue still sent a quiet jolt through him—something electric, something he had no right reacting to. As always, he swallowed it down, keeping his expression neutral, composed.
“Coffee?” Mingyu asked, though the question barely lingered in the air before he moved.
Before Wonwoo could even respond, Mingyu had already set his own mug aside, reaching for another one with practiced ease. He poured freshly brewed coffee into it, his movements smooth and unhurried, as though he had done this a hundred times before. Wonwoo found himself watching, unable to look away, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him again. It was ridiculous, he knew—it didn’t make sense—but something about the way Mingyu moved felt known, like a memory he couldn’t quite place.
He shifted slightly, suddenly aware of himself, of how awkward he must have looked just standing there. And yet, beneath that awkwardness, there was something else—something quieter, softer. A pull he couldn’t explain.
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Mingyu stepped closer.
Too close.
Close enough that Wonwoo could notice the faint scent clinging to him—clean, warm, with something subtle underneath that made his chest tighten. Close enough that the air between them felt different, heavier somehow.
Wonwoo’s breath caught before he could stop it.
“Enjoy your coffee,” Mingyu said softly, placing the cup on the countertop right where Wonwoo was leaning.
It was such a simple gesture, paired with an equally simple smile—professional, polite, nothing out of the ordinary. But to Wonwoo, it didn’t feel simple at all. There was something about it, something in the way Mingyu looked at him, that made everything feel sharper, louder, more real.
For a moment, Wonwoo couldn’t move.
It took him a second—maybe two—before he finally managed to breathe again, his gaze slowly dropping to the cup in front of him. And then he saw it.
One packet of sugar.
Three packets of creamer.
His eyes widened.
Oh shit.
That wasn’t just similar. That was exact.
That was how he made his coffee—down to the smallest detail. No, not just that.
It was how Mingyu made it in his dreams.
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One Saturday morning, Wonwoo found himself following a routine he rarely questioned, even if it meant sacrificing time and convenience. The bakery he loved wasn’t exactly close—it took nearly an hour by subway—but somehow, the distance had never been enough to stop him. If anything, it became part of the ritual. The quiet ride, the slow transition from the busier parts of the city to the familiar stretch of Gangnam where cafés and coffee shops lined the streets side by side, each one tempting in its own way.
And yet, despite the endless options, Wonwoo always ended up in the same place.
Heaven’s Cloud Bakery.
It wasn’t the biggest, nor the most extravagant, but it had something the others didn’t—the one dessert he couldn’t seem to find anywhere else. The mixed berries cheesecake tarte. Light but rich, sweet with just the right amount of tartness, and somehow always worth the trip.
By the time he stepped inside, the soft chime of the door welcoming him in, he already knew there was a chance it would be sold out. It usually was. Still, hope lingered as his eyes immediately searched the display.
And there it was. Only one box left.
Relief settled in his chest as he stepped forward, already reaching for it, his fingers just inches away from the tray when another hand reached for it at the exact same time.
Warm fingers brushed against his that made Wonwoo froze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted his gaze.
And it was Mingyu.
For a second, neither of them spoke. The moment stretched, suspended in something quiet yet strangely charged, as if the coincidence itself had weight.
Mingyu blinked first, clearly just as surprised, before a small, almost amused smile tugged at his lips. “Hey..Wonwoo.”
Of course it was him. Of course, out of all the places in Seoul, out of all the bakeries, out of all the possible mornings— it had to be here.
“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Wonwoo managed, his voice softer than he intended.
“We’re out of the office, so just call me Mingyu.”
Their hands were still resting against the same tray. Neither of them moved.
Then, as if suddenly aware of it, Wonwoo pulled his hand back slightly, the warmth of that brief contact lingering far longer than it should have. “You can have it,” he said, trying to sound unaffected, even offering a small, polite nod.
Mingyu tilted his head, studying him for a moment, like he was trying to read something beneath the surface. “You sure?” he asked, his tone light but laced with something else—curiosity, maybe.
Wonwoo nodded. “It’s fine. I can just—come back next time.”
But Mingyu didn’t take it.
Instead, he let out a soft breath, a quiet chuckle slipping past his lips as he shook his head. “We got here at the same time,” he pointed out, gently pushing the box of the cheesecake tarte an inch closer to Wonwoo instead. “It wouldn't feel right taking it. I know you love it.”
“H-how… did you know?” Wonwoo didn’t even know how those words left his mouth, because what the fuck? How did he know that fact again?
For a fleeting moment, he caught the subtle shift in the man’s expression—the way his gaze faltered, how a hint of slight panic flickered across his features—before it vanished just as quickly, replaced by that familiar, composed ease. Mingyu only smiled, slow and deliberate, the slight peek of his fangs making him look even better than he already did, while something gleamed within his eyes.
“I just had a feeling. You live all the way in Jongno yet here you are, going out of your way to come to Gangnam just for that dessert.” he said lightly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.. “And besides… it’s not exactly hard to know where my team members live.”
Wonwoo bit his lower lip as his thoughts came to an abrupt halt, spiraling into something he could no longer quite control. Mingyu had a point. Anyone observant—anyone smart—could easily come to that kind of conclusion.
He really needed to stop reading into everything Mingyu did and said.
But could he really blame himself?
For the longest time, Wonwoo had been dreaming about that man—someone he had, in some way, shared everything with, even if it had all existed only within the fragile boundaries of his mind. Still, deep down, Wonwoo knew the truth: he had already fallen for that person.
And then, one day, Kim Mingyu appeared.
The same man. The same face he had come to love in his dreams—only now, standing right in front of him, real and tangible, doing things no one else had ever done for him in reality.
It was insane.
Somewhere along the way, Wonwoo had started blurring the lines between dream and reality, and if he were being honest, it was slowly driving him crazy. Especially whenever he caught the director looking at him—really looking—and offering him a smile that felt different from the ones he gave to everyone else. And then there were the little things… the subtle gestures, the quiet moments that echoed too closely to the version of Mingyu that had once existed only in his dreams.
He needed to stop overthinking everything. He needed to accept that Kim Mingyu, despite all the similarities, would never be the man he loved and who had loved him back in his dreams.
Because in this reality, they were simply colleagues —nothing more, nothing less.
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After Mingyu excused himself earlier, right after the dessert incident, Wonwoo had assumed the man had already left, thinking there was no reason for him to stay any longer. However, the moment Wonwoo stepped out of the bakery, he was caught off guard to see Mingyu still there, casually leaning against a sleek black car parked right in front of the establishment as if he had been waiting the entire time.
When Mingyu noticed him walking out, Wonwoo felt something tighten in his chest. For a brief, almost reckless moment, he had the sudden urge to walk straight up to him, to pull him close and wrap his arms around him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But just as quickly as the thought came, it faded, replaced by the harsh reminder of reality—he had no right to do something like that.
Mingyu straightened slightly, his expression calm and relaxed as he spoke. “Are you on your way home now?”
Wonwoo hesitated for a second before answering, still trying to compose himself. “Uh… not really. I need to do some grocery shopping.”
“Cool. Let’s go,” Mingyu replied without a hint of hesitation. He turned as if it had already been decided, taking a step toward his car, but before he could move any further, Wonwoo instinctively reached out and caught his forearm.
The contact made Mingyu stop immediately, his eyes dropping to where Wonwoo’s hand rested against him. Realizing what he had just done, Wonwoo quickly pulled his hand back, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. “I—I’m sorry,” he said in a rush, his voice slightly unsteady. “I just wanted to say there’s no need for—”
“Oh… did you drive here? Did you end up getting your license after those two tries?”
On the surface, it sounded like nothing more than a casual question—something you’d hear between two people who had known each other long enough to keep track of the small, almost insignificant details in each other’s lives.
But that wasn’t what this was.
Because between him and Mingyu, that kind of familiarity didn’t exist in the reality.
If they had known each other for years, then sure—it would’ve made sense. It would’ve been normal for Mingyu to know that Wonwoo had failed his driver’s license test twice and had never tried again, too frustrated to put himself through it one more time.
But they didn’t.
So why… why did Mingyu know that?
But instead of asking how Mingyu knew that, Wonwoo chose to brush it off, refusing to dwell on it any further. “There’s no need to do that, sir. I can manage on my own, and I don’t want to waste your time—especially on a Saturday.”
Wonwoo had already dipped into a slight bow, intending to excuse himself, but before he could even take a single step away, he felt a hand clasp around his own. The sudden contact caught him off guard, and before he could react, he was gently guided inside the car.
He could only watch in stunned silence as Mingyu moved quickly around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. When he finally settled in, he turned toward Wonwoo with a wide, almost boyish smile.
“Obviously, I don’t mind,” Mingyu said easily. “And don’t think you’re wasting my time. Never.”
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The grocery run from last weekend had turned out to be more than just a simple errand.
Wonwoo had only planned to buy a few things, but somehow, it ended with Mingyu choosing almost everything for him. If he were being honest, Wonwoo didn’t really know much about picking fresh ingredients or other stuff about cooking. He had always been the type to rely on instant food and ready-made meals, never bothering to buy ingredients or cook from scratch.
That much was obvious, at least to Mingyu, who had insisted that he start eating more healthily. The problem now, however, was far more pressing—how was Wonwoo supposed to cook all those ingredients when he didn’t even know how to cook at all?
That was when Mingyu said, almost too casually, that he would make sure Wonwoo started eating more healthily.
And how, exactly?
By taking charge of Wonwoo’s meals.
Since he loved to cook, Mingyu had promised that whenever he prepared breakfast and lunch for himself, he would pack an extra portion for Wonwoo as well. Wonwoo had strongly objected, of course, insisting that it wasn’t necessary—but, as usual, Mingyu hadn’t listened.
And so, for almost a week, Wonwoo had been relentlessly teased by the other members. They kept pointing out how the director always brought him food, joking that he must have somehow charmed the man into it.
Truthfully, Wonwoo wished he could disappear every single time Mingyu showed up at his workspace, casually handing him neatly packed lunchboxes as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
But what surprised him even more was that the food Mingyu prepared for him always seemed to be exactly what he liked, even though he had never told the younger man about his preferences.
And the more moments like this kept happening, the harder it became for Wonwoo to convince himself otherwise—that Mingyu was the very same man from his dreams, just in a different version.
Then came the housewarming party at Mingyu’s place. Having just moved into a new apartment closer to the office, he had initially invited all the members of the Adiance Line team.
Mingyu had left work earlier that day to prepare, so once everyone else wrapped up, they headed straight to the director’s place, stopping only to pick up small gifts along the way—wine, a few things for the house, even a small cake.
Wonwoo had thought he had already seen the full extent of what Mingyu could do—everything he had shown, everything he had done up until now. But the moment they stepped into the penthouse apartment, that assumption shattered.
Wonwoo found himself at a complete loss for words, his chest tightening as emotions he couldn’t quite name began to rise all at once. For a fleeting second, it felt like he had slipped back into dreaming—back to those days when his dreams were so vivid they blurred the line between illusion and reality.
But this… this wasn’t a dream.
This was real.
Mingyu’s apartment was exactly the same as the house they had shared in those dreams—the house where they had lived as if they were married. It was identical. Every single detail, from the arrangement of the furniture to the appliances, was precisely how he remembered it. Wonwoo wouldn’t have been surprised if even the blueprint matched perfectly.
“Are you not coming inside hyung?” Chan’s voice cut through the haze, pulling Wonwoo out of his trance to which he nodded like a robot.
Throughout dinner, the atmosphere had been lively—everyone talking over one another, laughter filling the space, and the energy only growing louder when they moved on to games afterward. There were chants, teasing, and bursts of laughter echoing around the apartment, yet Wonwoo could only go along with it on the surface. He was physically present, sitting among them, but his mind had drifted far away, tangled in thoughts he couldn’t seem to shake.
And the entire time, he could feel it. Mingyu’s gaze.
He didn’t need to look to know—it was there, steady and lingering—but Wonwoo forced himself to keep his eyes elsewhere. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he met Mingyu’s gaze while everything inside him felt this overwhelming, this unsteady.
Eventually, it became too much.
The noise, the thoughts, the weight of everything pressing in on him all at once.
So he quietly excused himself and slipped away toward the bathroom, unnoticed by most, as the others remained too absorbed in their drinking game to pay him any real attention.
He didn’t need to ask where the bathroom was because, just as he had expected, he found it without any trouble.
Once inside, the door clicked shut behind him, and the noise from outside dulled into a distant murmur. Wonwoo stood there for a moment, unmoving, staring at his own reflection in the mirror as something hollow settled deep within his chest.
It was strange—overwhelming, yet empty at the same time. He gripped the edge of the sink, trying to ground himself, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions he couldn’t even begin to name.
For a second, he thought he might cry.
The pressure behind his eyes built up, sharp and sudden, but he forced it down just as quickly. He couldn’t. Not here. Not now. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him like that, to ask questions he didn’t have answers to, to worry over something he himself didn’t understand. So he took a slow breath, then another, until the feeling dulled just enough for him to pretend he was fine.
When he finally stepped out, he stopped short because Mingyu was there, waiting.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked, his voice softer this time, stripped of its usual ease.
Wonwoo simply nodded, unable to trust his voice.
Mingyu’s hand found his before he could think, fingers wrapping around his wrist in a hold that was firm yet careful, as if testing whether Wonwoo would pull away. For a brief moment, their eyes met—and in that silence, something unspoken passed between them. It was heavy, almost suffocating, filled with things Wonwoo couldn’t fully understand.
It felt like Mingyu wanted to say something, like the words were right there, just waiting to be spoken… but they never came.
Instead, Mingyu slowly let go.
And somehow, that was Wonwoo’s cue to leave.
He returned to the living room as if nothing had happened, slipping back into the noise and laughter that continued late into the night. The games carried on, the drinks kept flowing, and little by little, the energy softened into something slower, as exhaustion and alcohol began to take over.
By the time the night started winding down, most of them were already tipsy—some barely able to keep their balance, others sprawled comfortably across the couches, laughing over nothing in particular. One by one, they began to leave, offering their thanks and goodbyes in slurred voices.
He ended up being the last one left, standing near the door as the apartment finally grew quieter. Just as he was about to take his leave, Mingyu spoke.
“Wonwoo… can we talk?”
Wonwoo glanced back at the others instinctively, only to find them in no state to notice anything—half-drunk, distracted, completely absorbed in their own worlds.
And just like that, there was no easy way out.
So they ended up sitting back down in the living room, the remnants of the housewarming still scattered around them—empty glasses, crumpled napkins, and half-finished plates left behind in the aftermath of what had been a lively night.
They sat side by side on the couch, leaving just enough space between them to make the distance feel intentional. The air had shifted completely, no trace of the earlier laughter and noise remaining. What settled in its place was something quieter, heavier—something that neither of them seemed to know how to address.
“What do you want to talk about?” Wonwoo finally asked.
When he turned to look at Mingyu, the man appeared relaxed at first glance, leaning back slightly with one leg crossed over the other as if nothing was wrong. But Wonwoo could feel it—the tension beneath that calm, a subtle nervousness that betrayed what Mingyu was trying to hide.
A few seconds passed before Mingyu finally spoke.
“Have… have you ever been in love before?”
The question caught Wonwoo off guard, confusion knitting his brows together. For a moment, he considered asking why, but the words never came. Instead, his gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers lightly picking at each other as they rested on his lap. He drew in a slow breath, steadying himself as he tried to gather his thoughts before answering.
“Even if I answer that question, you’ll probably think it’s crazy—that I’m crazy.” He let out a quiet chuckle, but there was nothing amused about it.
“Try me.”
And that was all Wonwoo needed to finally spill everything. He no longer cared how his boss would look at him after what he was about to say—at least this way, he could finally release the weight he had been carrying for so long.
“I’ve been in love. Really, deeply.” Wonwoo paused, his voice quieter now, weighed down by something he had kept to himself for far too long. “The problem is… it was with someone I shouldn’t have fallen for.”
Mingyu frowned slightly. “Why do you think you shouldn’t have?”
“Because he wasn’t real,” Wonwoo admitted, his gaze fixed somewhere distant. “He was just a man in my dreams—not someone from the real world.” He let out a soft, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “It sounds ridiculous, I know… but it’s true.”
“Do you still dream about him?”
Wonwoo shook his head. “No… the dreams have already stopped. But somehow, the feelings didn’t. I still love him just as much.”
“But can you also love the person he is in reality?”
And that was enough for Wonwoo to snap out of it, his head jerking up as he looked at the younger man, who was already staring at him with an intensity that made his breath hitch.
There was nothing playful in Mingyu now—no teasing lilt in his voice, no easy smile. Only seriousness, sharp and unwavering, reflected both in his tone and in the way he held Wonwoo’s gaze. It was something Wonwoo had never seen from him before.
“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked.
“I mean, do you still love the version of him that you're seeing now? The one in front of you?”
“Mingyu…”
“Because I do. I love the same person right in front of me—more than the one I loved in my dreams. I love the version that exists here, in this life. Even if I’m nothing more than a coworker in his eyes, even if there was never meant to be anything more… I love every part of him more than he’ll ever know.”
“D-did..did you have the same dreams?”
Mingyu nodded. “I don’t know how far your dreams went, but ever since I met you, they’ve felt insignificant compared to what’s real.” He let out a quiet breath, as if steadying himself. “I used to think soulmates were childish—something people made up to make things feel more meaningful than they really are. But then I met you, and that idea didn’t seem so absurd anymore. I don’t care how it sounds. Whether it’s coincidence, fate, or something else entirely… it doesn’t matter to me.” A small, almost helpless smile tugged at his lips. His gaze remained steady, unwavering. “All I know is that I was given the chance to meet you in this life—and even if we started as strangers, I’d still choose to love you. Again and again.”
Wonwoo didn’t even realize he was crying until Mingyu reached out and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, his touch careful and almost instinctive as he slowly closed the distance between them, leaning closer until there was barely any space left separating their bodies.
“Hey… you know I hate it when you cry, hmm?”
“I—I just don’t know how to process everything. I… I don’t—” Wonwoo tried to explain, but the words kept breaking apart, his voice swallowed by quiet sobs he couldn’t hold back.
“Love…”
The single word made Wonwoo look up. His breathing hitched, and just like that, the tears slowed, his eyes fixed on Mingyu as if everything else had fallen away.
Mingyu’s hand rested against his cheek, warm and steady, while the other settled at the small of his back, pulling him just close enough to feel real—solid, grounding. The proximity stirred something deep in Wonwoo, something achingly familiar, like every fleeting touch from his dreams had finally taken form. This wasn’t imagined. This wasn’t distant or fading. Mingyu was here, and everything between them was real.
“I’m just as overwhelmed as you are,” Mingyu admitted softly. “But maybe… those dreams weren’t meant to stay as dreams. Maybe we were just too afraid to let ourselves be happy in real life, so we settled for it somewhere safer.” His thumb brushed lightly against Wonwoo’s skin. “Maybe this is our chance to finally choose it.”
For a moment, his expression faltered, something uncertain flickering across his face. “Unless… what you feel is only for the person in your—”
He never got to finish.
Wonwoo closed the distance in a sudden rush, his lips crashing against Mingyu’s with a desperation that left no room for doubt. Mingyu froze for only a fraction of a second before melting into it, one hand tightening at Wonwoo’s waist as he kissed him back just as deeply, just as certain.
Wonwoo kissed Mingyu like he was drowning and Mingyu was air. Their mouths pressed hard, lips parting only to crash together again, tongues sliding deep as every suppressed feeling poured out. Mingyu answered with equal force, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of Wonwoo’s head while the other gripped his waist, pulling their bodies flush. They kissed until their lungs burned, until the wet sounds of their mouths filled the quiet living room, and Wonwoo’s tears mixed with the heat between them.
Then the younger pulled Wonwoo closer and gently guided him to sit on his lap, their bodies still pressed tightly together.
Mingyu broke the kiss first only to trail his lips along Wonwoo’s jaw, murmuring soft words against his skin. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Since I met you at the office.”
Wonwoo shivered as their fingers worked together, both of them tugging at each other's shirts until the fabric was discarded, leaving their bare skin to meet. Mingyu’s hands roamed lower, slipping beneath Wonwoo’s pants to cup his ass and knead it, which brought out a moan from the older.
They moved in tandem, and Wonwoo used his strength to position Mingyu lying back against the cool leather while he straddled Mingyu's hips. Their kisses grew slower and deeper, tongues stroking lazily as their hands explored.
Mingyu’s fingers found Wonwoo’s nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds until Wonwoo gasped into his mouth. He leaned down, enough for the younger to suck one nipple between his lips, tongue flicking over it while Mingyu’s hand continued teasing the other. Wonwoo arched, grinding down against the hard line of Mingyu’s cock still trapped in his pants.
They helped each other pull down their pants and underwear together, shedding the last barriers until they were both completely naked. Mingyu’s hand slid between Wonwoo’s legs who was still on top of him, fingers pressing against his damp cunt.
Mingyu parted Wonwoo’s slick folds, his fingers gently spreading them apart as he traced slow, teasing circles over the swollen, sensitive clit. Without uttering a single word, he sank two thick, warm digits deep into the tight, inviting heat. Wonwoo’s moan escaped softly, his hips instinctively rocking forward as Mingyu curled his fingers inside, applying deliberate, skilled pressure to stroke the sensitive inner walls.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, love,” Mingyu growled, sliding a third finger deep inside, stretching Wonwoo wide while his thumb aggressively circled the swollen clit. Wonwoo’s thighs shook uncontrollably as hot, slick moisture dripped freely down onto Mingyu’s stomach.
He reached down, his hand closing firmly around the younger’s thick cock, stroking it with deliberate, slow motions. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and Wonwoo eagerly swiped it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth, savoring Mingyu’s taste while still riding the fingers deep inside him.
Mingyu withdrew his hand, slick and glistening, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean with a slow, deliberate lick before pulling Wonwoo down into a fierce, hungry kiss. He shifted fully onto the sofa, one leg bent sharply while the other foot pressed firmly against the floor, spreading his thighs wide and inviting. Sensing exactly what Mingyu wanted, the older man crawled between them, settling on his knees with a steady, confident rhythm.
Wonwoo wrapped his lips fully around the swollen, throbbing head of Mingyu’s cock, sinking down deep with a slow, possessive heat that pulled a guttural groan from Mingyu’s chest. The slick warmth enveloped Wonwoo’s mouth as he hollowed his cheeks, taking in every inch with deliberate care. Mingyu’s hand gripped Wonwoo’s head tightly, fingers tangling fiercely in his hair, holding him in place as Wonwoo bobbed with steady, hungry rhythm. His tongue flicked and traced slow, tantalizing strokes along the sensitive underside, teasing the length with wet, deliberate movements that sent shivers through Mingyu’s body.
Mingyu’s breaths grew ragged, his hips pressing closer, clearly reveling in every delicious, powerful descent, his moans growing louder as pleasure coursed through him.
After several minutes of slow, wet sucking, Mingyu gently pulled Wonwoo off.
“Come here,” he whispered. It's my turn to satisfy you.”
Wonwoo shifted down, lying back, legs parting wider as Mingyu settled above him. The taller lowered his mouth to Wonwoo’s slick folds. Mingyu’s broad shoulders settled low, his hands sliding under Wonwoo’s thighs to hold them open. He started with slow, deliberate licks, dragging the flat of his tongue from the bottom of Wonwoo’s entrance all the way up to the swollen clit. Each pass gathered more slick, spreading it over the sensitive flesh until everything glistened.
He sealed his lips around the clit and sucked gently at first, then harder, pulling the small bud into his mouth while his tongue flicked rapidly over it. Wonwoo’s hips jerked, a soft whimper escaping as Mingyu kept the pressure steady. Two thick fingers pressed at the entrance, circling the rim before sliding inside, curling immediately to stroke the front wall. Mingyu pumped them in a steady rhythm while his mouth stayed locked on the clit, sucking and licking without pause.
The younger pulled back only to flatten his tongue again, lapping broad stripes that covered the entire pussy before focusing on the clit once more. His fingers scissored gently inside, stretching the tight heat while his tongue dipped lower to push inside alongside them. The wet sounds grew louder as he fucked Wonwoo with his tongue and fingers together, thrusting deep and then withdrawing to suck the clit again. Wonwoo’s thighs trembled around Mingyu’s head, his hands gripping the taller man’s hair as the sensations built.
Mingyu kept going, alternating between long, slow licks that covered every fold and quick, focused sucking on the clit while his fingers twisted and curled inside. He added a third finger, stretching Wonwoo further, the added fullness making him gasp and arch off the sofa. Mingyu’s free hand pressed down on Wonwoo’s lower belly, holding him steady as he devoured him with open-mouthed hunger, tongue working relentlessly until Wonwoo’s walls fluttered around his fingers.
Only when Wonwoo was shaking and dripping did Mingyu finally pull his mouth away. He rose up, lining his cock against the slick entrance. The thick head rubbed through the wet folds once, twice, coating itself before he pushed forward.
Wonwoo took him slowly, pussy stretching around the girth until Mingyu bottomed out completely. They paused there, foreheads touching, breathing ragged as the connection settled between them.
Then they began to move. Mingyu fucked Wonwoo with long, steady strokes, each one pushing deeper than the last. Wonwoo wrapped his legs around Mingyu’s waist, pulling him closer, nails digging into his back. Their pace built gradually, skin slapping softly against skin, the leather sofa creaking beneath them. Mingyu pressed soft kisses against Wonwoo’s tear-streaked cheeks, whispering “I love you” between every thrust.
Wonwoo came again around Mingyu’s cock, walls squeezing tight. Mingyu followed soon after, burying himself to the hilt and filling Wonwoo with hot pulses of cum. They stayed locked together, breathing ragged, trading slow kisses as the aftershocks faded. Mingyu stroked Wonwoo’s hair, pressing their foreheads together once more.
“It’s not a dream anymore, love.” Mingyu murmured “This is real.” Wonwoo nodded, eyes glassy but smiling, pulling Mingyu down for one more lingering kiss on his lips.
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ☁︎｡ ﾟ⋆
“Why didn’t I ever dream about us making love?” Mingyu said casually, his voice low with amusement.
They were already in his room, everything cleaned up, the two of them lying under the sheets still naked. Wonwoo was tucked securely in Mingyu’s arms as they lay side by side, facing each other, the quiet intimacy settling in after everything that had happened.
Mingyu’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “Didn’t know you could be that wild, love.”
“Shut up.” Wonwoo blushed
“Okay, I will.” Mingyu murmured it like a promise before leaning in to kiss Wonwoo, soft and lingering, though not quite enough to stop himself from speaking again when he pulled back just slightly.
“But I’m curious about something…” His thumb traced absent circles against Wonwoo’s arm, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Which version of me in your dreams did you like the most?”
Wonwoo pretended to think for a moment, eyes narrowing in exaggerated consideration, only to break into a soft giggle. “I don’t have one.”
Mingyu’s lips immediately formed a pout, his brows knitting together in mock offense, which only made Wonwoo laugh a little more, finding the expression far too cute to take seriously.
“Wow,” Mingyu huffed lightly, nudging him. “So all those dreams and not even one favorite?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Do you even really love me?”
Wonwoo just smiled, eyes warm as he looked at him. “Maybe it’s because every version was my favorite. And I love you.”
That was enough to make Mingyu smile wide, his lips curving into a grin before he pressed a deep, passionate kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. When he finally pulled away, his eyes sparkled with desire.
“Do you want to know which moment was my favorite?” Mingyu whispered, his fingers beginning to tease Wonwoo’s still wet and slick entrance.
Wonwoo responded instinctively, lying back flat on the mattress. He bent one knee, spreading himself open, inviting Mingyu deeper access to his still swollen, throbbing cunt.
“Hmmm…” he moaned, sliding his own hand down to join Mingyu’s, guiding two thick fingers straight into his dripping pussy.
“It was when we had our little one,” Mingyu murmured, voice thick with emotion and longing.
Wonwoo’s eyes fluttered open, his eyes glazed with raw desire but then tenderness replaced it as he remembered that specific dream. “Minwoo?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Mingyu replied, his voice low and steady, though there was a quiet urgency beneath it. “We should make it happen.” He let out a small breath, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Even if a part of me wants to keep this—keep you—to myself for now, but bringing him into reality… what do you think?”
He leaned in, capturing Wonwoo’s lips in a fierce, hungry kiss while his fingers pumped steadily in and out of Wonwoo’s slick, soaked cunt. The wet squelching filled the quiet bedroom, each sound a testament to their rising passion again.
Wonwoo’s hips lifted instinctively, meeting every steady thrust with desperate urgency. His free hand gripped Mingyu’s shoulder, grounding himself as pleasure surged through him. “Yes… I—I want to build that family in reality. Fill me up, hubby… hmmm.”
A deep groan rumbled from Mingyu’s throat as he scissored his fingers wider, stretching Wonwoo’s hole until it gaped around his knuckles. He added a third finger, thrusting fast and deep, while his thumb circled tight, swollen rings around Wonwoo’s sensitive clit.
Wonwoo’s thighs trembled, his cunt clenching and fluttering as more slick gushed around Mingyu’s hand.
“I’m gonna breed this pussy so good,” Mingyu growled, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop. Swiftly, he flipped Wonwoo onto his stomach, yanking his hips upward to line his massive cock at the entrance. The fat head pressed against the slick opening before Mingyu shoved in hard, burying every thick inch in a single, powerful thrust.
Wonwoo cried out, arching his back as the immense cock stretched him wide open. Mingyu wasted no time, pounding relentlessly—his balls slapping wetly against Wonwoo’s ass with every brutal snap of his hips. The bed creaked beneath them, skin smacking loud and obscene. Wonwoo’s cunt squeezed tightly, milking the invading length, dripping down his thighs.
“Ahhh..ahhhh..more..” Wonwoo begged, voice breaking with raw need.
Mingyu seized Wonwoo’s hips, slamming in with even more force. The head of his cock drove deep against Wonwoo’s cervix with every savage thrust. He reached around to rub fast circles over Wonwoo’s clit while fucking him senseless.
Wonwoo’s moans shattered into broken sobs of pleasure. His walls fluttered and pulsed, orgasm crashing through him in waves as he squirted around Mingyu’s cock, soaking the sheets beneath.
Mingyu kept driving, chasing his own release. “Gonna pump you full, love..” He buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum flooding Wonwoo’s womb, overflowing and leaking out around his still-thrusting cock.
They stayed locked together, panting, until Mingyu slowly pulled out. Cum poured from Wonwoo’s gaping hole in thick white streams.
With tender care, Mingyu scooped Wonwoo up and carried him to the bathroom for the second time. He set him gently in the empty tub, turned on warm water, and began cleaning the mess between his legs with patient, careful fingers.
But the moment those fingers brushed Wonwoo’s sensitive clit again, Wonwoo moaned, spreading his legs wider.
Even more than before, Mingyu's cock twitched at the sight. He slid into the opposite side of the tub from Wonwoo, pulled him onto his lap, and sank back into that cum-slick pussy in one smooth, fluid motion. Mingyu began fucking him again—slower now, but just as deep and intense—causing water to splash over the edges.
Wonwoo braced his hands on the tub’s edge and started to ride, lifting and dropping his hips to take every inch of Mingyu’s huge cock. Water and cum mixed, running in messy rivulets down his thighs. Mingyu’s hands gripped Wonwoo’s waist, guiding him faster, thumb circling his clit once more.
“Fuck… Min… your cock feels so good…” Wonwoo gasped, riding harder, cunt clenching and sucking around the thick shaft.
Mingyu thrust up to meet him, water splashing wildly. Wonwoo lost all control, movements frantic and desperate. His hips slammed down hard, taking Mingyu’s cock to the root time and time again. His pussy fluttered and spasmed, another orgasm ripping through him as he squirted around the cock buried inside.
Mingyu groaned loudly, grabbing Wonwoo’s hips to hold him down as he came again, pumping another heavy load deep into Wonwoo’s womb. They stayed connected, shaking, cum and water leaking out around the thick length.
Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss as the warm water ran over them. Mingyu’s hands gently rubbed Wonwoo’s belly, already imagining it growing with their child.
“Ride it hard, love…make sure our little one is made tonight…”
And that was something Wonwoo would make sure of—something he would bring to life, the family he once believed could only exist in his dreams.
It might sound strange, even unbelievable to others, but to him, it was possible. And he would always be living proof that even the dreams we dismiss as mere illusions—those quiet, fleeting ones that come only in sleep—can find their way into reality, sometimes in the most literal and unexpected way.