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It's dark out. Uncomfortably humid. Then again, summer nights around here tend to be absurdly hot, mosquitoes ready to pounce on passersby.
Sunghoon feels like a disaster. Skin prickling, he picks at his nails ‘cause if he doesn't, he'll start smoking again. He knows it’s bad for him, but he's trying his best. Trying to curb the habit.
But like everything else in his life, Sunghoon fails at it. Then again, he failed most of his classes when he still attended university and believed he had a future. So.
The clock on the wall echoes. It's past 2 in the morning.
Sunghoon should be fast asleep. He has work later today, this thing at the bakery downtown that his father had pulled strings to get. It'll be Sunghoon’s third job he gets fired from for the month if he manages to fuck things up. He's already on thin ice and is honestly kind of sick and tired of fighting with his old man.
Sunghoon really should be sleeping. Instead, he's perched against the hazy window and glaring at the dark streets, the warm wind blowing through his hair.
He feels like a fool. He is a fool. Waiting, searching – wanting someone who's even more evasive than the shadows slinking past the buildings the second night falls.
Sunghoon supposes this is his reward for chasing after a man owned by another. Forever doomed to grasp remnants of affection, in a world where his kind is looked down on. At the same time, the sweetest fruit tends to be the most forbidden, and Sunghoon had never been fond of things that came too easily for him.
Footsteps race up the cobblestone streets, hurried and light, before Sunghoon can decide to call it a night and finally retreat into his bedroom.
A lean silhouette stops in front, and Sunghoon's breath halts inside his throat. The man's posture is tense, his shoulders rigid and sharp eyes wary as he glances over a shoulder, but he's here. Just like all those other nights, despite all the risks.
(“You make me feel brave,” Jongseong revealed one time, staring into Sunghoon’s eyes.
“Brave?” Sunghoon's nose scrunched, but a smile pulled at his lips. He felt special, because Jongseong had never looked at him like this before. And certainly not this earnestly.
“Yeah. I… feel the most like myself when I'm with you.” Jongseong grinned. Sunghoon's palm laid on his chest, and it seemed as though, right then, Jongseong’s heart only beat for him.)
And like those other nights, Jongseong wastes little time slipping through the backdoor, up the stairs and into Sunghoon’s bedroom, shrugging off his long coat as he corners Sunghoon into a deep, steamy kiss. His fingers tangle in Sunghoon's hair, knocking Sunghoon’s breath right out of him.
“I missed you,” Jongseong whispers against the shell of Sunghoon's ear, keeping his voice low (he's always quiet when he's here). His exhales are like a furnace, firm palms searing Sunghoon's bare skin as clothes are tugged off. Sunghoon sighs as Jongseong kisses down his torso, choosing to ignore the tan line around the older man's ring finger. (Sunghoon never asks about it. About Her.)
“Did you smoke before I came?” Jongseong says while kneeling in front of Sunghoon’s cock, an obvious frown on his face. He clearly disapproves, but he'd rather skirt around the issue, not one for confrontation.
“Are you gonna blow me or not?” Sunghoon asks. Unlike Jongseong, he's impatient, still feeling the aftereffects of immaturity. Masking every vulnerability with indifference.
Jongseong’s brows knot, and Sunghoon thinks this is it. It's over now. Jongseong will realize the dumb twenty two year old he met at that bar months ago is in fact a dumb twenty two year old, one he's got no business fucking. One who isn't worth fucking. And Sunghoon will be left to nurse his broken heart all alone because he'd been stupid and insane enough to fall in love with a taken man miles above his league.
But then Jongseong’s features soften in the golden lamp light. He hoists Sunghoon over the bed. Plants kisses along his thighs. Reassuring, tender ones, right above the hickeys he'd left the last time. And like this, wrapped in Jongseong’s arms, it's easier than ever for Sunghoon to believe Jongseong feels the same way he does.
If Jongseong was going to leave, he would have already. He's here because he also loves Sunghoon. (These are the things Sunghoon always chooses to reassure himself with.)
“I have to go now,” Jongseong tells Sunghoon when they're done, hand cradling Sunghoon’s cheek. Sunghoon's stomach drops, even when he knows soon enough, it’ll be daybreak. And when daybreak arrives, Jongseong’s separate life begins. He'll go to his fancy job, hug and kiss his beautiful fiancée when he returns, and he and Sunghoon will go back to pretending they don't know each other.
‘I hate that someone else gets to have you. I wish you were mine,’ is what Sunghoon wishes he could say.
“When will I see you again?” is what Sunghoon responds with.
Jongseong stands, the light in his eyes dying out as he pulls on his slacks. When they'd first started sleeping together, Sunghoon would do all he could to make Jongseong stay. Now he knows it's futile, so he just lies there and studies the way the moon illuminates Jongseong's body.
“I don't know,” Jongseong answers. He can't look Sunghoon in the eye.
Sunghoon’s jaw clenches. He tugs the drawer open and plucks out a cigarette.
“Sunghoon –”
“Don't fucking tell me what to do.” Sunghoon’s shaking as he says this, tone unconvincing. It's clear he's on the verge of tears. Dammit. “I don't give a fuck.”
“Hoon…”
“Get out.”
Jongseong sighs. It's obvious he's disappointed. Sunghoon feels worse than when he's being yelled at by his father.
Seconds trickle by. The door clicks shut. Before long, a vehicle drives off into the night. Then, silence.
Surrounded by cold, creased sheets, Sunghoon lights the cigarette. Breathes in and out. Orange ignites his fingertips.
It doesn't matter anyway.
(It does.)