Guys, I wrote a fanfic where they're dating each other. I don't know what's wrong with me ...

Guys, I wrote a fanfic where they're dating each other. I don't know what's wrong with me - I'm obsessed with these two. You guys understand me right? I'm not crazy right?

Anyways, this is my first time doing this so I'm embarrassed. I don't know where else to put it so I'm putting it here.

Enjoy...







Incheol comes home late. The car door shuts with a dull thud. He stands there for a moment, jaw tight and shoulders stiff from the day’s weight. By the time he reaches the apartment door, his anger weighs heavy and unresolved beneath his skin.


He knocks once. There’s a pause. Then the door creaks open.

Pyeonghwa stands there in an oversized T-shirt and loose pajama pants, hair soft and slightly mussed. He steps aside to let him in.

“…You’re home late.”

Incheol doesn’t answer. He walks past him in silence. Pyeonghwa watches him closely as he enters, with the door clicking shut behind them.

Incheol shrugs off his coat, tosses his briefcase onto the couch. He loosens his tie with a sharp tug, and drops down heavily. He tips his head back and exhales, eyes closed, saying nothing.

“….”

Pyeonghwa doesn’t push. He moves quietly instead—hanging up the coat, taking the briefcase, and putting it away. He’s careful and deliberate, as if any wrong sound might shatter something fragile.

When he returns, Incheol hears soft footsteps. A faint shuffle. Then warmth. Two arms wrap around his leg. Incheol opens his eyes.

Pyeonghwa sits on his knees in before him, firmly holding onto his leg. He looks up at Incheol through long lashes, his expression calm and unreadable as always. His lashes flutter.

“Did something happen?”

Incheol stares down at him with that cold, impassive gaze Pyeonghwa knows so well—knows and loves. Heat curls low in Pyeonghwa’s stomach under the weight of it. Incheol tilts his head slightly, eyes distant and assessing. Then he shifts his foot forward and places it against Pyeonghwa’s groin. Pyeonghwa’s breath catches. His heart pounds loudly in his chest as he grips Incheol’s leg tighter and rolls his hips forward, grinding against the hard shoe.

“Ah…”

A breathy sound escapes him, relief flooding through his body. Incheol watches him closely. Pyeonghwa meets his gaze without hesitation. Incheol presses down. “Nh—!” Pyeonghwa moans, cheek resting against Incheol’s thigh. He melts into him, pliant and eager, basking in that piercing stare. As Incheol looks down at him—at the way he yields so willingly—his hands move to his belt. The buckle comes undone. Pyeonghwa’s eyes drop instantly, fixed on Incheol’s crotch, anticipation tightening in his chest. The zipper lowers slowly, painfully so. His mouth waters. He grinds faster against Incheol’s foot, panting, needy and feverish. Incheol frees himself from his trousers, hard and ready. He sits up and leans forward.

One hand comes down harshly, fingers tangling in the back of Pyeonghwa’s hair. He yanks him forward without warning. Pyeonghwa responds immediately, mouth opening as he presses his tongue along the base of Incheol’s length. One hand slips away from Incheol’s leg to wrap around him, stroking the shaft. His lips reach the tip, licking it slowly, teasing. “Ha…” Incheol exhales. Pyeonghwa takes him into his mouth, sucking skillfully.

Incheol’s brows draw together as quiet sounds slip past his lips. His grip loosens, fingers stroking gently through Pyeonghwa’s hair. Pyeonghwa looks up at him at the tender touch, eyes soft despite everything. Then Incheol shoves his head down, violently.

“Kkeugh!”

Pyeonghwa chokes, eyes watering as he takes him fully.

Both of Incheol’s hands hold the back of his head now. He then lifts his hips, thrusting slowly and deliberately. Their eyes stay locked—Incheol’s gaze narrowed and intent—as his thumbs press into Pyeonghwa’s temples. Heat leaks into Pyeonghwa’s underwear, his body responding helplessly.

Pyeonghwa grinds into Incheol’s foot, harder, more desperate. He matches his pace with Incheol’s thrusts, feeling his high approaching.

Incheol’s grip tightens. His pace quickens.

“...Ugh!”

His body tenses before he groans and releases, spilling down Pyeonghwa’s throat. Pyeonghwa cums shortly after, liquid spilling through his pants and sullying Incheol’s polished dress shoe.

He swallows eagerly, taking everything without complaint. When it’s over, Incheol relaxes back, breathing slowly and heavily. Pyeonghwa pulls away, wiping at the corners of his mouth. He licks his fingers clean, savoring the last traces, eyes still on Incheol.

The living room remains quiet, only filled with the sounds of their panting and moans.