Chapter Text
Bright sunlight filtered through the half-open window blinds, illuminating Sangwoo’s apartment and highlighting the pristine, recently dusted tabletops, shelves, and lampshades.
It was Tuesday afternoon, and Sangwoo was 90% ready with his weekly cleaning routine.
He had already spent 25% more time than average on his routine and wholeheartedly blamed it on Jaeyoung.
Even though Jaeyoung wasn’t currently even within his apartment.
The few times Jaeyoung had been there during his cleaning time had taught Sangwoo that it was not a good idea, although he was sure that Jaeyoung would disagree with him on that.
And even if there was a small (and yet significant) part of him that ended up enjoying the interruptions that his ever-mischievous boyfriend came up with, Sangwoo much preferred to complete certain routines without any undue interruptions.
Today, though, despite Jaeyoung’s absence, Sangwoo had still found himself distracted because of him. Well, to put it more accurately, by the ever-increasing traces of him he could find inside his apartment.
It had started in the kitchen. Sangwoo had just washed the dishes, then moved on to dry them before returning them to their places in the cupboards.
When he was in the middle of putting away a clean, dried mug, he suddenly paused, one hand holding the cupboard door open, the other gripping the mug in mid-air. His eyes were glued to the rows of mugs and cups there on the cupboard shelf; the first few cups at the front had been positioned the wrong way.
Sangwoo sighed, his shoulders heaving with the effort, and lowered the mug he had been about to place there on the shelf. Shaking his head to himself, he then proceeded to turn each cup around, positioning them the right way, which was of course upside down, so that the rim of the cup was against the shelf.
He had asked Jaeyoung to position them like that many months ago, after the first time Jaeyoung had washed the dishes for him, and Sangwoo had opened the cupboard next morning to find the cups and mugs within in complete disarray.
“But why?” Jaeyoung had asked, a puzzled frown on his brow.
“So that the dust doesn’t gather inside the cups,” Sangwoo had explained in a somewhat exasperated tone, like it should have been obvious.
“But they are inside a cupboard. Which is closed, most of the time.”
Sangwoo had only narrowed his eyes at him, and Jaeyoung had huffed a laugh, pulling him close. “Alright, baby. I can see you have strong feelings on this issue. Your way it is.”
And so it had been, ever since.
The fact that Jaeyoung had now placed several cups in such offhand manner had to mean something. Didn’t it?
Sangwoo leaned against the counter, racking his brain.
When was the last time Jaeyoung had washed the dishes here?
Two days ago, he remembered. There had been quite a lot of dishes that day, and Jaeyoung had offered to help with them, shooing Sangwoo off to study.
Sangwoo had retreated to the sofa, grabbed his laptop and opened a few programs in preparation for an assignment.
That was as far as he had got with that assignment that night.
His gaze had ended up being drawn increasingly more often to the other side of the room, where Jaeyoung was tapping his foot and moderately swinging his hips to the rhythm of the music he was listening. To make matters even worse, he was wearing a tank top, and Sangwoo had barely been able to look away from the intricate shifting of muscles in his arms and shoulders.
Sangwoo had lasted approximately 10 minutes before he had moved his laptop aside, walked over to Jaeyoung, nabbed one earbud from his ear, and announced to him that he would like to suck his cock.
Sangwoo hoped he would never forget the look on Jaeyoung’s face when he’d heard the words.
Blood rushed to his face and to his cock in equal amounts at the vivid memory, making Sangwoo groan as he gripped the bridge of his nose. He forced himself to breathe steadily in and out and tried to push the indecent thoughts away so that he could focus on the task at hand.
He supposed he could forgive Jaeyoung for being disorganized with his dishes this time. He had been distracted, after all.
The next distraction that had caused a delay in Sangwoo’s cleaning routine that day had awaited in the bathroom.
He was emptying his laundry basket to the washing machine, stuffing it with dark-coloured clothes, when he lifted a bright red fabric from the basket and stopped in his tracks to stare at it. His brain short-circuited for a second as he wondered how a red shirt had ended up among his laundry.
He blinked, recognizing it in the next second as Jaeyoung’s red zip neck sweater. In the same breath, he remembered Jaeyoung wearing it when they had been hanging out one day—was it last week?—and at one point in the evening, he had taken it off, claiming that the company he was currently in was making him too hot.
Now that Sangwoo thought of it, he couldn’t remember Jaeyoung ever putting the sweater back on before he had left that night.
Jaeyoung, the sly fox, must have hidden the sweater at the bottom of his laundry basket while he hadn’t been looking.
“What, can’t he wash his own clothes anymore?” Sangwoo murmured to himself, rubbing the soft, thick fabric between his fingers.
On a whim, he lifted the sweater to his face, sniffing at the collar. A tingling warmth rushed to his chest as his lungs filled with Jaeyoung’s familiar scent, and Sangwoo’s eyes slipped closed in reaction.
Perhaps… Perhaps this sweater didn’t need washing quite yet?
Experimentally, Sangwoo sniffed another part of the sweater and recoiled at the sharp, strong smell of sweat that reminded him of dirty socks. Alas, the sweater had dwelled too long inside the laundry basket.
Sangwoo turned the sweater inside out, checked the washing tag, and shoved it inside the washing machine.
Perhaps he could have his revenge by leaving one of his own shirts to Jaeyoung’s apartment one of these days.
A smile grew on his face at the thought, and he briskly clicked the washing machine door shut, applied the detergent, and put the machine on. The red swirl among the blacks, dark blues and greens that began to tumble behind the glass door drew his eye for longer than he cared to admit, warmth flickering inside him at the sight.
It was only when he lifted his forearm and glanced at his wristwatch, cursing under his breath as he saw the time, that he was able to draw himself away to his next awaiting task.
Now, with the last 10% of his routine left, Sangwoo was hoovering with hurried steps in an attempt to compensate for the time he had wasted daydreaming.
Abruptly, there was a sharp clang, followed by a hollow thud, as the head of the vacuum cleaner hit something hard under the desk. Frowning, Sangwoo leaned over to peek under the tabletop and sighed at the sight that awaited there. He shut down the vacuum cleaner, moved it out of the way, and knelt down to face the mess.
Balled-up pieces of paper, old magazines, and pages torn out of notebooks littered the floor below his desk. It was unlike Sangwoo to forget to move the paper bin out of the way when he was hoovering, and his frown deepened, his lips pouting a little in a bout of annoyance.
He wanted to blame it on Jaeyoung yet again, but really, he should have been more mindful himself.
Muttering under his breath, Sangwoo lifted the paper bin up and began to pile the thrash back inside, not really paying attention to the individual pieces until a small flash of red caught his attention again.
Sangwoo paused, loosely holding a ball of paper that he had been about to toss towards the bin. The white, crumpled paper was accentuated by red markings.
An odd familiarity tickled at the back of Sangwoo’s mind at the sight, and he narrowed his eyes at the feeling. With careful movements, so as not to tear the paper, he began to untangle it.
As soon as he peeled out one corner, recognition dawned on him, and a surprised sound rose from his throat.
“I didn’t think I still had this,” Sangwoo murmured, straightening out the paper the rest of the way so he could take a proper look at it.
It was one of the posters he had set up at the visual design department’s notice board last autumn, and one that Jaeyoung had written all over with a red marker.
Sangwoo huffed a breath, trailing his fingers over the crazed grinning face that was Jaeyoung’s trademark sign-off.
Vaguely, Sangwoo remembered finding the balled-up poster from the bottom of his backpack later on the day when he had torn it off the notice board, and discarding it to the bin. Earlier that day, he had thrown the other part of the ruined poster duo in Jaeyoung’s face, consumed by anger and frustration at his childish pranks.
“Claimed by Jang Jaeyoung”, the posters had read together when they had been next to each other.
Sangwoo’s stomach flipped as he thought of the words, a shiver running down his back. He swallowed as, completely unbidden, a series of imaginary scenes flashed in his mind.
Jaeyoung’s lips on his skin, sucking and biting, leaving marks that Sangwoo had forbidden him to make before; Jaeyoung moving inside him, filling him so perfectly, so thoroughly; Jaeyoung saying that Sangwoo was his, and only his, now and forever—
Sangwoo shifted, his shockingly sudden erection digging uncomfortably against the seam of his pants, his heart a wild thing in his chest. The heavily wrinkled paper shook in his hand, and he sat back on his knees, drawing in a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself.
What was that all about?
He could still distantly remember how seeing the words Jaeyoung had written over his poster had filled him with fierce anger. He had hated how arrogant and entitled Jaeyoung had acted towards him at the time, going out of his way to find out about all the things that Sangwoo would find annoying and make them reality.
Placing a false claim on him like that, for everyone to see, had been one of the things that had completely set him off the edge.
Now, though…
Sangwoo couldn’t have explained how or why or when things had changed, exactly, but now that he thought about it, the idea of Jaeyoung claiming him as his own did not annoy him anymore, not even a little bit.
Instead, it now held a whole new appeal to it, and it was with a deep, fluttering feeling that Sangwoo realized that he wanted Jaeyoung to claim him.
He wanted it with an intensity that might have scared him once but was now something that Sangwoo was becoming more and more familiar with.
There had been a time, a long time, when Sangwoo had considered most feelings, especially those of romantic and sexual nature, to be mere distractions or even delusions that he was better off without. Before meeting Jaeyoung, it had been simple enough to adhere to this logic. After meeting Jaeyoung, however, it had become, to put it bluntly, impossible.
Jaeyoung had been the first person who had ever awakened such deep, strong feelings and urges that he had not been able to ignore or reason away, no matter how hard he had initially tried. With Jaeyoung’s help, however, he had come to realize that he didn’t need to ignore or reason those feelings away; he could let himself feel them, he could deal with them, and he could even enjoy them.
He was still learning, but he liked to be learning with Jaeyoung by his side.
Before he could second-guess himself, Sangwoo sprung up from his crouch on the floor, cursing as he banged his head against the desk in his haste to get to his feet.
With hurried steps, he left the bedroom in search of his phone.
The poster fluttered to the living room floor as Sangwoo grabbed his phone from the sofa table.
His heart in his throat, his fingers shaking, he opened his conversation with Jaeyoung and began to type.
Jaeyoung’s phone buzzed against the marble tabletop, the sharp, reverberating sound jarring to his ears. As he promptly lifted it up and woke up the screen, it buzzed again. His brows lifted but as he saw who the texts were from, the corners of his mouth curved up in a smile.
<< Hyung.
<< Can you come over tonight?
As he read the honorific, Jaeyoung couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped nor the way his smile grew. Even though Sangwoo had called him hyung for months now, the specialty of it hadn’t worn off. Far from it, in fact.
>> Miss me already, baby? ^3^
Jaeyoung smirked at the screen, eagerly waiting for Sangwoo’s reply. It had been only a few hours since they had seen each other last, kissing goodbye at the steps of the university. Sangwoo had headed home to complete his sacred cleaning routine, and Jaeyoung had left to spend the evening with his friends who kept complaining that they saw him way too little these days.
<< No.
Jaeyoung pouted at the blunt dismissal. Before he could reply, his phone buzzed with a new text.
<< Yes.
Delighted joy spiked in his chest. “I knew it, baby,” he purred at the screen, grinning with glee.
When it came to Sangwoo, Jaeyoung was a man starving. He simply couldn’t get enough of him, and every token of affection Sangwoo showed towards him, no matter how tiny or how vast, Jaeyoung cherished as a treasure beyond measure. It was frankly ridiculous, how profoundly happy even the tiniest crumb of affection from Sangwoo made him. And yet Jaeyoung was helpless, absolutely helpless, to stop it from happening.
“Are you talking aloud to your boyfriend, who’s not even here, again, you lovesick idiot?” Yuna’s exasperated voice cut through Jaeyoung’s thoughts.
He lifted his chin and glanced at his friends settled around the low table. Hyeongtak was watching him with an amused expression, but Yuna looked torn between distaste and disbelief.
Jaeyoung cleared his throat, straightening up his posture a little in his chair. “And so what if I am?”
“Ugh,” Yuna grimaced, dragging a hand over her face. “He’s not even denying it anymore. You’re becoming more insufferable by the day, you know. What are we to do with you?”
“Cut him some slack, Yuna,” Hyeongtak said, throwing a piece of crust from his sandwich at Yuna, who squawked in indignation. “Jaeyoung has finally remembered that he has friends who he had as good as abandoned, and is now kindly gracing us with his presence.”
“Well put, my friend,” Jaeyoung said, a pleased smile forming on his lips. “Well put, indeed.”
His phone buzzed in his hand, and his gaze snapped back to it. He could hear Yuna’s disgusted noise at the background, but he dutifully ignored it.
<< Anyway, I want to talk to you.
<< So later, if you can, I would like it if you came over to my place.
Sangwoo was always formal in his texts, so objectively, there shouldn’t have been anything odd about his words.
And yet, inexplicably, Jaeyoung felt his stomach twist in sudden worry, his heart picking up a nervous beat in his chest.
Jaeyoung’s fingers flew over the keyboard in his haste to reply.
>> I’ll leave right away
>> I’m there in half hour max
>> Is everything OK???
Jaeyoung grabbed his half-full cup of iced coffee and downed it in a few gulps. He slammed the empty cup to the table with more force than was necessary, making everyone around their table, and the next, jump.
“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend needs me,” Jaeyoung said as he rose from his seat, its legs screeching sharply against the floor tiles. “I’ll catch up with you later!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yuna groaned, throwing her arms up. “You’re the worst!”
“I love you, too, Yuna,” Jaeyoung cooed and bent down to smack a loud kiss to the top of Yuna’s head.
“Ugh! Get off me,” Yuna said and kicked at his leg, but there was little force in it.
“Tell Sangwoo we said hi!” Hyeongtak called out as Jaeyoung began to retreat towards the door.
Jaeyoung saluted his friends with a wink and stepped outside, a cool spring breeze whispering against his face.
He set out at a brisk pace towards the campus and pulled his phone back out to check if Sangwoo had texted him again. He had.
<< Yes, hyung, everything is fine.
<< I didn’t mean you need to leave right now.
<< Seriously. Don’t come here yet.
<< Hyung?
Jaeyoung shook his head, puffing out a sharp breath through his nose. Yes, something was most definitely off, he was certain of it.
He typed a quick reply, then pushed the phone back to his pocket and quickened his pace to a jog.
>> I’m on my way
There was a familiar, loud banging noise at Sangwoo’s door.
Sangwoo sighed heavily, letting his head fall against the backrest of the sofa for a second before he closed his laptop and placed it on the sofa table.
While he had almost tripped over his own feet an hour or so ago in his haste to text Jaeyoung, he hadn’t meant he needed Jaeyoung to come over right away. He knew Jaeyoung didn’t spend nearly as much time with his friends these days as he used to, what with working for DEX, working with Sangwoo on Veggie Venturer, and dating Sangwoo. Sangwoo didn’t like the idea of robbing even more of his time than he already did, no matter how much he enjoyed Jaeyoung’s company.
Besides, Sangwoo had barely had time to finish cleaning and take a shower before Jaeyoung was already battering on his door.
Clearly, Sangwoo had used the wrong words in his texts, but he wasn’t quite sure where exactly he had gone wrong.
Shaking his head to himself, Sangwoo pushed himself up and scrubbed a towel through his wet hair. On his way to the front door, he stopped briefly to deposit the towel from around his neck to the back of a chair. An odd mix of nerves, anticipation, and guilt flared through him, setting his heart rate to a quickened rhythm.
He turned the lock and opened the door, revealing agitated, winded-looking Jaeyoung who was holding one fist in the air, clearly about to barrage his poor door yet again.
Sangwoo’s gaze flicked up to the familiar, red beanie atop Jaeyoung’s head, the bright colour drawing his attention almost without his volition. There was a light flush across Jaeyoung’s ears and cheeks, and he was breathing hard, as if he had been running.
Some tension visibly melted from Jaeyoung as his gaze fell on Sangwoo, and he lowered his arm, immediately stepping into his space. “Sangwoo-ya,” he said a bit breathlessly, cradling Sangwoo’s face between his hands and leaning down so he could take a good look at his face. “Baby.”
Sangwoo’s heart tightened at the term of endearment. His hands found Jaeyoung’s waist reflexively even as his face scrunched in a frown. “Hyung,” he began, a note of reproach in his tone, as he met Jaeyoung’s searching gaze. “I told you—”
His words were cut off by Jaeyoung’s lips on his. Jaeyoung kissed him firmly, moving his lips over his in quick brushes, and before Sangwoo could properly reciprocate, he was already pulling back, his quickened breaths ruffling Sangwoo’s hair.
“Are you alright?” Jaeyoung asked and slid his thumbs over Sangwoo’s cheekbones.
Sangwoo’s brows pulled low to a scowl as frustration rose in his chest, his lips pursing to a pout. “I told you I’m fine! You shouldn’t have rushed over like this,” he said, giving Jaeyoung’s chest a small push.
Jaeyoung frowned, still searching his face closely, but he lowered his hands to rest on Sangwoo’s shoulders. “Are you sure? You said you needed to talk—”
“Yes, but it could’ve waited.” Sangwoo averted his gaze as he felt his ears start to burn. “You needn’t have abandoned your friends because of it.”
“Hey,” Jaeyoung said, curling his fingers below Sangwoo’s chin, gently coaxing him to lift his head back up. “It’s alright. They can handle it. What I cannot handle, however, is not being here for you when you need me.”
Sangwoo’s heart did something complicated in his chest, as it always did when Jaeyoung said something unexpectedly heartfelt like this.
“Hyung,” he said quietly, his anger ebbing away like a receding tide. He tightened his fists in the soft, loose fabric of Jaeyoung’s hoodie. “I… Alright. But you don’t need to be so worried. I’m fine. And I would’ve been fine, even if you hadn’t come over immediately.”
Jaeyoung lifted his other hand from Sangwoo’s shoulder and brushed it over the back of his head, curling his fingers over the nape of his neck. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re okay.” The last of the tension melted from his eyes as he finally seemed to believe him.
Sangwoo sighed, giving in and rising to his toes to give Jaeyoung a soft kiss on the lips. Jaeyoung hummed appreciatively into the kiss, his fingers tightening at the nape of his neck.
“You worry too much,” Sangwoo admonished when he pulled back after a while, lowering his heels to the ground.
Jaeyoung rolled his eyes a little, an amused huff slipping from his lips. “Whatever you say, baby,” he said and ruffled Sangwoo’s hair affectionately.
Sangwoo bit out a disgruntled sound and tried to duck away from Jaeyoung’s reach, but Jaeyoung only let out a soft, bright laugh and easily kept the contact.
Soon, however, Jaeyoung slipped his hand away from his hair and loosely wound his arms around Sangwoo’s shoulders. His expression sobered up somewhat, and he stepped closer. “So, now that I’m here,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “what did you want to talk about?”
Sangwoo swallowed, his hands twitching. He slid his gaze momentarily away from Jaeyoung and suddenly realized that the front door was still wide open behind them.
“Let me close the door first,” Sangwoo said and ducked under Jaeyoung’s arm, away from his loose embrace.
Jaeyoung chuckled as Sangwoo reached for the door to pull it closed. The lock clicked into place, and when Sangwoo turned to face Jaeyoung once more, he had already stepped out of his shoes and was strolling further into the apartment.
Sangwoo followed after him, his fingers playing with the sleeves of his sweater. Jaeyoung sat heavily down on the couch and spread his arms over the backrest, his smile soft and inviting as he regarded Sangwoo. He made a beckoning gesture with his fingers.
His heart racing, Sangwoo complied, closing the distance between them in slow, measured steps and sank down beside him, scooting close to Jaeyoung’s side.
Letting out a pleased hum, Jaeyoung lowered his arm and curled it back around Sangwoo’s shoulders, drawing him even closer. He turned his head and nuzzled his nose against Sangwoo’s cheek, inhaling deeply.
The familiar weight of Jaeyoung’s arm around his shoulders, the warmth of him, the closeness of him soothed Sangwoo in ways he’d never thought possible before meeting and falling in love with him. He’d never known that another person’s touch and proximity could both calm and excite, both ground and lift him up in such great, irreplaceable extent. Gradually, he felt his tense muscles begin to loosen, his breath flowing more easily through his lungs.
Jaeyoung’s fingertips began sketching faint shapes around the curve of his shoulder. Sangwoo’s eyes slid closed, and he leaned his head against Jaeyoung’s arm.
After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, Jaeyoung drew back only to place a chaste kiss on Sangwoo’s cheek.
“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” Jaeyoung encouraged softly, squeezing him gently with his arm in emphasis.
Sangwoo blinked his eyes open and met Jaeyoung’s warm gaze. He bit his lower lip in a gust of nervousness, a gesture which did not go unnoticed by Jaeyoung.
“You…” Sangwoo began, clearing his throat a little. Jaeyoung looked back up to his eyes. “You said you liked it when I told you what I wanted or needed.”
He was stalling and he knew it, and perhaps Jaeyoung knew it, too, if the lifted eyebrow and a knowing smirk that formed on his lips were any indication.
“Yes, I do like it,” Jaeyoung agreed, cradling Sangwoo’s hands, which were resting on his lap, with his free hand. “I want you to be happy, Sangwoo-ya. I want to make you happy, in whatever way I can.”
Sangwoo turned one of his hands so that he was able to lace his fingers with Jaeyoung’s. “You do make me happy, hyung,” he said with serious intensity.
Jaeyoung’s smile lit up the whole room. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said and leaned over to place a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. Sangwoo kissed him back just as softly, his response drawing another pleased hum from Jaeyoung.
Too soon, Jaeyoung pulled back, pecking the tip of Sangwoo’s nose before he did.
“So, is there something I could do to make you even happier, then?” Jaeyoung asked, his smile secret.
“I— Maybe,” Sangwoo replied, ducking his head as he felt himself blush.
Despite his earlier certainty, now that Jaeyoung was here, actually admitting what he had realized he wanted was turning out to be much, much more difficult than Sangwoo had anticipated.
Jaeyoung leaned close and nudged his cheek with his nose before pressing a kiss to his temple. Sangwoo felt his smile against his heated skin.
“Do tell,” Jaeyoung murmured in a hushed voice, his breath tickling his ear, making him shiver.
Before he could lose his resolve, Sangwoo briskly pushed himself off the sofa. Jaeyoung let out a surprised yelp as he was left to rebalance himself.
Ignoring Jaeyoung’s grumbling, Sangwoo walked over to the shelf where he had placed the wrinkled poster that he had tried his best to smoothen out.
His heart in his throat, he turned to face Jaeyoung, holding out the paper to him, his fingers shaking a little again. “Do you remember this?”
Jaeyoung’s brows lifted up in surprise as he leaned over to take the paper. “Of course. You… you kept this?”
Sangwoo shifted from foot to foot, scratching at his hair. “Not exactly. It was in the paper bin which I knocked over while cleaning. I found it when I cleaned up the mess.”
Jaeyoung placed a hand over his heart, gasping as if in shock. “How rude of you to dismiss my masterpiece as trash!”
Sangwoo rolled his eyes and sat back down to the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “You and I clearly have very different views on what makes a masterpiece. Besides, it’s incomplete.”
“Yes, well, it was you who threw its other half at me so rudely all those months ago,” Jaeyoung pointed out, nudging at Sangwoo’s side with his elbow.
Sangwoo scowled at him, jerking away from his nudge. Jaeyoung knew very well he had tickly sides, but he liked to pretend that he didn’t. Or maybe he just liked to annoy him.
“That’s twice you’ve called me rude under one minute,” Sangwoo complained, his shoulders hunching up towards his ears as he sulked.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Jaeyoung cooed, puckering his lips pitifully. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he began to slide his arm back around Sangwoo. Sangwoo shifted a little but didn’t make a move to stop him. If he was being honest, he already missed Jaeyoung’s touch.
Soon enough, Jaeyoung held Sangwoo in his half-embrace again, his pout replaced by a teasing grin. “But, you have to admit, you were a bit—” At Sangwoo’s renewed scowl, Jaeyoung paused to clear his throat before he went on to finish the sentence. “Like that, back then.”
“With good reason!” Sangwoo argued, pushing at Jaeyoung with his shoulder with little effect. “It was rude of you first to mess up my advertisement like that.”
“Well, I think it worked out quite well in the end, didn’t it?” Jaeyoung said diplomatically, lowering the poster to his lap as he reached over to caress Sangwoo’s cheek with his knuckles.
“I… Yes, it did,” Sangwoo admitted, his tone only slightly reluctant anymore as he fought the urge to lean into Jaeyoung’s touch.
Jaeyoung grinned and leaned close to kiss at Sangwoo’s cheek, nuzzling his nose along his cheekbone. “I’m glad we agree.”
Sangwoo huffed a breath at Jaeyoung’s somewhat smug tone, but he relaxed his tensed hunch, his shoulders lowering and his crossed-over arms loosening once more.
“I must admit though, I’m a bit at a loss as to how this piece of paper relates to me making you happy,” Jaeyoung continued, tapping the paper with his finger. “So you’ll have to help me out a bit here.”
Sangwoo reached over to take the paper from him, just to have something to do with his hands as he pondered for a while on how best to explain himself.
He drew in a deep, steadying breath, then pushed it out in a whoosh. “When I saw this for the first time back then, I remember being filled with frustration and hatred. It… made me so angry to see you had placed a false claim over me like that, purposefully sabotaging a thing that meant a lot to me.”
When Sangwoo looked up again, Jaeyoung’s brow was furrowed, no trace of a smile left on his face.
“Sangwoo-ya—” he began, his voice low and tinged with regret, but Sangwoo lifted a hand, shaking his head, and Jaeyoung fell silent at once.
“No, please, let me finish,” Sangwoo said with emphasis. “My point is… That was the past. When I saw this now…” Sangwoo swallowed, his fingers tightening around the paper. “I found myself filled with quite different kind of emotions.”
Sangwoo chanced a glance at Jaeyoung who wore a puzzled expression, clearly still not realizing what it was that Sangwoo was talking about here.
He tried to hold eye contact with Jaeyoung, but when he opened his mouth, searching for the right words, his embarrassment and uncertainty as to how Jaeyoung would react got the better of him, and he ducked his head away again. “The idea of you… claiming me… excited me. It… turned me on,” he explained haltingly, his face and ears burning, then felt compelled to add, “a lot.”
Sangwoo was suddenly acutely aware that Jaeyoung had gone very, very still.
He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.
But he wasn’t finished yet, and seeing as he had gone this far, he would not back down now.
Sangwoo steeled his nerves, turned so that he was facing Jaeyoung properly, and met his boyfriend’s wide-eyed, shocked gaze.
“I want you to claim me, hyung,” he stated, all uncertainty leaving him as he voiced what he felt to be true with the entirety of his being.