Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, sir?”

Beomgyu turns to the voice addressing him, it’s the hostess. She gives him a stern look, like she and him both know that this place is way out of his league. He’s certain that even with the expensive suit he has on, he resembles not a single person that she’s used to seeing come and go. He doesn’t have the status, the confident posture that screams wealth, and his pocket is definitely missing a wallet filled with paper bills that can afford to pay for dinner at a restaurant like this.

“Do you have a reservation? If not, could you please step aside and let the people behind you—”

Beomgyu almost scoffs because why the fuck else would he be standing here in this well-tailored suit if he didn’t have a reservation. It was a gift from the man he’s seeing tonight. Beomgyu had told him—messaged him, that nothing in his closet could convince a room like this that he belonged here. The very next day, a well decorated box had arrived at his apartment and inside was the most expensive looking suit he had ever laid eyes on.

“Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu replies. “I’ve got a reservation under that name.”

The hostess’ eyes widen a little as her gaze slides down to the book in front of her. Beomgyu smirks because it doesn’t take a genius to realize that that’s a name which holds a lot of power in this lavish city. Immediately, her demeanor changes as her eyes stop in the center of the book, because Beomgyu is in fact meant to be here.

“Ah,” the hostess starts and continues with a wide smile and an extra polite appearance. “He hasn’t arrived yet. Why don’t we get you seated? Mr. Choi should be here shortly.”

And Beomgyu lets her escort him to the table, she does it with a tight smile and keen eyes. Beomgyu tries his best not to chuckle at her stiff appearance.

The lights are low back here, the tables are spread out further apart which confirms how spacious the restaurant is. As they’re walking, Beomgyu eyes the expensive dishes, glasses, and extra silverware that no one really needs. He can feel eyes on him as they make their way through. Beomgyu doesn’t let it bother him, he knows how a room like this works, how easily people gossip about anyone they think stands a little lower than them.

It’s exciting, the fact that he’s here—acting like he’s rich, confidence lurking in his smile, not to mention how good he feels in this suit. He might not mind the staring so much.

“Your table, sir.”

He’s shown to a table at the far end of the room, it’s situated near the windows that showcase the wonderful view of Gangnam. And Beomgyu realizes that they’re also a level above, overlooking the entire floor of the place. Although there's still chatter drifting through this part of the room, he isn't quite far enough away from everyone else to feel separate from it. Still, he's sure it's enough to make some people jealous, enough to make them wonder who he is, what name he carries that allows him to stand so easily in a place like this.

The hostess goes on to ask if he’d like anything to drink, to which Beomgyu just requests a glass of water. He quickly takes his seat, unbuttoning his suit jacket so the restriction doesn’t bother him. He notices that his hands are a little shaky, palms a little sweaty. With each minute that passes by, he’s that much closer to finally meeting Choi Yeonjun in person. He tries not to let his nerves get the best of him, he wants to make sure he’s more than presentable when the wealthy man arrives.

A minute later, a waiter approaches his table with his water. Beomgyu thanks him and quickly downs half the glass before stopping himself when the couple at the next table give him a strange look. Beomgyu side-eyes them, not bothering to hide it. His throat feels painfully dry, and the last thing he needs is to choke up the moment Mr. Choi arrives.

Beomgyu tries to calm himself by looking at the view of the city, the sun’s beginning to set and the city lights capture his attention. He can’t help but think of what this view will look like when the sun’s completely down, and the city is entirely lit in the dark night.

In that moment, movement near the front of the room draws his attention. The same hostess from earlier is guiding a man through the maze of tables, Beomgyu finds himself intrigued. The man is dressed sharply in a dark suit, and even from this distance it’s clear he’s tall.

Suddenly, the man stops at one of the tables.

He watches in interest as his face quickly blooms with a smile and he’s shaking hands and bowing to the people there. Beomgyu smiles softly, the man has this enchanting look about himself, a sudden flirtatious smirk that even he can see from his own table. It’s difficult for him not to stare as he starts walking away, heading towards his destination. Beomgyu notices his dark hair, parted right down the middle showing off his sharp eyes.

He looks like he’s dressed in money from head to toe, and Beomgyu’s definitely not the only one staring. Everyone in the room seems to be secretly sending admiring glances towards the man.

Beomgyu’s thoughts disappear the moment the hostess and his newfound interest start walking toward him. It’s almost laughable how quickly he sits up straight. He nearly forgets he’s here alone, waiting for his company to arrive. He wanted to be watching for the moment he appeared, to see for himself what he’d gotten into.

Because the man walking toward him, easily a decade older, is the epitome of intimidation. He moves through the restaurant with effortless confidence, as if the space naturally parts for him. Beomgyu is suddenly at a loss for words as he gets a better look. By now he knows he’s staring, but the man is such a sight for sore eyes in his impeccably tailored suit and perfectly kept hair. As he gets closer, Beomgyu’s gaze drops to his hands which are adorned with several rings that could easily cover a year of Beomgyu’s rent.

Now this could very well be Mr. Choi, but Beomgyu doesn’t want to get his hopes up. So he turns away and focuses his gaze on the empty seat in front of him as he tries to remember why he's even here in the first place.

Taehyun had laughed in his face when Beomgyu first told him the idea, saying it would be hilarious if Beomgyu ever actually tried to play the part of a sugar baby. Beomgyu had only pouted in response, because he’d been completely serious. He knew it wasn’t the most practical idea, but he was tired of feeling helpless.

He’s exhausted from the stress—the endless scramble for money, the way his mother wears herself thin across three jobs just to keep the lights on. He’s worked more jobs than he can count, but none of them ever really mattered. They never changed anything, not enough to make a real dent. And his mother never let him do more anyway, always insisting he focus on his future, even as hers crumbled under the weight of everything she carried alone.

He knows hardship isn’t unique to them, knows most people are struggling as well. But it’s hard not to feel like he’s falling behind, like everyone else got a head start he’ll never catch up to—especially after dropping out of college, after his sister got sick and the choice stopped feeling like a choice at all.

It’s gotten to the point where he does what he has to, no matter how it looks, no matter what it costs him. He’s got a family to think about, a mother who never catches a break, a little sister who still needs more than he can give. And with his dead-beat father long gone, it’s all fallen onto him. So he found a way, a solution of some sorts, maybe not one he’s proud of, but one that works. And he’s sticking to it, for them, for himself. If that means selling a piece of himself in the process, so be it.

Beomgyu panics the moment a firm presence stops in front of him. And yes, it’s Mr. Choi, the man he’s supposed to be meeting tonight. As he stands, his heart lodges somewhere in his throat and his thighs nearly knock against the edge of the table. He can only hope he doesn’t look like a complete fool.

“It’s um—” Beomgyu starts, biting his lip as he bows quickly. “Nice to meet you.”

He can feel the man’s eyes boring into his skin, and Beomgyu cringes at the awkward tension hanging in the air. He’s still bent in a bow, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. At this point, he’s not even sure he has the nerve to look the man in the eyes.

Mr. Choi clears his throat, a gentle cue that Beomgyu should probably be standing straight by now. Before he can even adjust, Mr. Choi steps forward and, with careful intention, takes Beomgyu’s hand in his own. Beomgyu lets him, too busy trying not to swallow his own tongue to do anything else.

Then, without a word, Mr. Choi brings his hand forward and presses a kiss to the back of it. Beomgyu blinks, once, twice, unsure if he imagined it. Who even does that anymore? The gesture feels out of place in this century, almost absurdly romantic, like something borrowed from a movie set in a time when people still sent letters and meant it.

“Nice to finally meet you as well… Mr. Choi, is it?” the man says as his lips leave the back of Beomgyu’s hand.

Beomgyu nods eagerly before answering, “Yes.” He’s so enraptured by the man’s gaze, the dark eyes that light up at Beomgyu’s voice. “Beomgyu, actually. Please.”

“Well in that case,” Mr. Choi says, “call me Yeonjun.” He hasn’t released Beomgyu’s hand yet, and the mouth that was there is soon replaced by a thumb, gently rubbing the area.

And Beomgyu is in complete awe at the way Yeonjun speaks, simple yet charming that it has his heartbeat racing. Yeonjun seems like someone that can be humble regardless of their position of power, and Beomgyu finds it fascinating for someone who looks like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Beomgyu’s not completely sure of what the man does for a living, just like Yeonjun doesn’t know what Beomgyu does either. But he does know how filthy rich the man is.

Yeonjun’s still giving him that gaze, like he's trying to pierce right through Beomgyu’s soul. He then starts leading Beomgyu back to his seat like a true gentleman, releasing Beomgyu’s hand only when he goes for his own seat. He unbuttons his jacket just like Beomgyu had earlier, and a second later, Yeonjun’s being addressed by a waitress, menus placed in front of both of them.

Flicking his gaze to the woman, Yeonjun smiles sweetly at her, and if Beomgyu had been paying attention to the waitress, he would’ve seen the way she flushes under Yeonjun’s gaze. He almost misses the request coming from Yeonjun, not bothering to glance at the wine menu as he chooses something that sounds very expensive and French.

“Is that fine with you?”

Beomgyu finds Yeonjun’s gaze back on him and the small sense of panic is back. “I don’t really drink wine,” admits Beomgyu, a sheepish smile on his face.

Yeonjun gives him a gentle smile before nodding to the waitress to confirm his choice. She leaves with a small bow, and Beomgyu almost regrets watching her go, because now he’s alone with Yeonjun. Normally he’d be glad for that, but being on a date with someone he barely knows is more than a little nerve-wracking.

“You seem like the type that goes more for soju, am I right?”

Beomgyu expects a scowl, but when he glances up he’s met with Yeonjun breaking into a grin, soft laughter slipping from him. Pride swells in Beomgyu’s chest as he watches the faint wrinkles gather at the corners of Yeonjun’s eyes. He knows Yeonjun is older, but the crow’s feet don’t make him look aged. If anything, they make him look boyish, caught in a moment of quiet happiness.

“Yeah,” snickers Beomgyu. “I guess you can say that.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” Yeonjun tells him earnestly. “Probably won’t like it at first, but I think you should try it. It’s always good to try new things, yes?”

There’s a part of Beomgyu that wonders if Yeonjun wants him closer, if he’s quietly, maybe even unknowingly, inviting him into this carefully curated corner of his world. And for a moment, it feels possible that the need isn’t one-sided, that maybe Yeonjun needs him too.

But Beomgyu isn’t naive, he knows how this works. If tonight goes well, if they let themselves fall a little deeper, it’ll only make the ending hurt more. Because it will end, eventually, that’s just the nature of things like this. And Beomgyu knows a man like Yeonjun—someone who’s charming, rich, beautiful, could find someone better without even trying.

So, if everything works out fine in the end, he’ll have to make the most of what he can out of this opportunity. Maybe it is a little self-deprecating to think that he’s the type of guy who could be thrown away so easily, but with how unfortunate his life has gotten, there hasn’t been much room for optimism.

Beomgyu nods at Yeonjun’s response, raking his eyes over his appearance one more time because he hasn’t gotten tired of looking at him. He’s not given much time to dwell on his thoughts because in the next moment, the waitress easily returns with a bottle of wine. Beomgyu watches on, a bit fascinated as she makes a scene of popping the bottle and pouring it into their individual wine glasses. He stops himself from wondering how much the bottle costs.

Yeonjun immediately reaches for his glass and takes a sip. Beomgyu almost follows his lead before realizing he wants to see Yeonjun’s reaction to the drink. Yeonjun smiles at the waitress, pleased with his taste in wine and he thanks her for her services.

And once again, Beomgyu misses the way the woman blushes at Yeonjun. He’s too busy trying not to stare at Yeonjun’s lips or the way he swallows down his wine. The man’s all class and elegance, Beomgyu’s so mesmerized he almost feels like a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. The waitress goes on to ask for their orders in which Yeonjun recites his. And just as Beomgyu’s about to look down at the menu, Yeonjun lets the waitress know that Beomgyu will have the same thing as him.

“Thanks,” murmurs Beomgyu once the waitress has left.

Usually, he’d be offended at someone ordering for him—he’s twenty-five, fully capable of making his own decisions, especially when it comes to food. But this time, he’s grateful since half the menu is filled with ingredients he’s never even heard of, and the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself in front of Yeonjun.

Yeonjun’s voice is calm when he says, “It’s okay to be nervous.”

Beomgyu finds it interesting the way Yeonjun looks at him with such kindness. Because this dinner, at its core, is a transaction, just a quiet business deal dressed up in wine and soft lighting. It involves money and his body, so should Yeonjun really be looking at him like that? So gently, like he’s something precious instead of something paid for?

“I’m not, it’s just—” Beomgyu gives him a timid smile. “This isn’t really an everyday thing for me.” He shrugs a little. “I just want to make sure I’m doing this right.”

Sure, this whole date revolves around the money that Yeonjun has, but there’s also Beomgyu’s needs to think about. With all the shit in his life, it’s not a surprise he’s unsatisfied with it. Beomgyu needs some fun in his life, and what happens in his bed is something that matters to him. He’s hoping that Yeonjun can help him in that aspect as well.

“I should start by saying,” Yeonjun begins while leaning back in his seat.

Beomgyu can’t help but admire how powerful he looks even when relaxed. It isn’t surprising, considering Beomgyu had been searching for exactly the kind of man Yeonjun is, one of those men in tailored business suits who carry more money in their accounts than half the city combined. Beomgyu knew he desired a man with power that needed something, just like he knew he needed them for something else.

“…I’m not naive enough to believe someone like you would fall into my bed that easily just for a relationship,” Yeonjun continues. “I’d certainly hope there’s somewhat of an understanding as to why we’re both here. As much as you’re using me for your own gain, I’d be using you as well.”

And Beomgyu is more than okay by Yeonjun’s blunt confession, because now he knows that they’re both in a mutual agreement.

Yeonjun leans forward then. “Let’s not sit around and pretend that this isn’t simply something that we both desire.” His lips form into a straight line. “You’ll be playing pretend in order to get what you really want. And since I’m in the position to give it to you, we’ll both be happy, correct?”

It’s not like Yeonjun is threatening him, but the fact that Beomgyu has to resist the urge to sink back into his seat says enough, he finds the man more than a little intimidating.

“You’re not here because you like me, you’re here because you need me. And that’s fine, because I need you as well.”

Yeonjun leans his forearm along the table, smiling gently. Beomgyu finds it a little absurd for a man who appears to be giving him an ultimatum. Beomgyu is fine with it, though, because he already knew all of this. So he appreciates that Yeonjun wants to make sure they’re on the same page. Beomgyu nods in confirmation, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

Taking another sip of his wine, Yeonjun settles back into his seat with a warm smile. “Good, I’m glad we’re in agreement. Now would you mind telling me a little bit about yourself? More than what I know from your online profile.” He looks at Beomgyu carefully. “Who you are, what you do, why you’re here exactly. Things of that nature.”

The questions are simple enough, sharp but Beomgyu doesn’t sense that Yeonjun’s saying it out of spite. And sure, his first instinct is to impress the man, but they both know that Beomgyu doesn’t have much to offer to the table. The best thing he can offer is his honesty. So, he takes a moment to breathe, to try and relax himself. He even picks up his wine glass and takes a sip of it, all while watching Yeonjun’s mouth quirk up in amusement when Beomgyu frowns at the taste. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t drink much wine.

“My name is Choi Beomgyu,” he says, then immediately cringes because Yeonjun clearly already knows that. The man had obviously come prepared tonight. Beomgyu means to continue, but the arrival of their food cuts the moment short making him lose his train of thought.

Yeonjun looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

Licking his lips, Beomgyu starts again. “I’m twenty-five, I work at a pet store, I share an apartment with my best friend Taehyun, and I’m hoping to go back to school.”

Not a single lie, some things were definitely left unsaid but Beomgyu wants to keep it simple, straight forward. Bills always come first for him—finishing his education, although important, doesn’t compare to having a roof over his head.

The smell of the food is overwhelming, and suddenly Beomgyu’s stomach growls. Not loud enough for Yeonjun to hear, he hopes. He doesn’t want the man thinking he’s starving. He’s been in plenty of tough situations before, but finding food has never been one of them. Still, it makes him think of his mother and sister and how badly he wants to help them. That’s what tonight is all about.

“But you are right,” continues Beomgyu. He chuckles lightly before adding, “My intention isn’t the most honorable, but yours isn’t either.” Beomgyu swallows, furrowing his eyebrows a little to get his point across. “Now would you tell me exactly what you want from me because I’d very much like to start my dinner.”

Being forward and straight to the point has always gotten Beomgyu into trouble, but that’s not the case here. Yeonjun smirks at him, bright eyes shining as he reaches for his fork. He takes a bite of the meat, chewing slowly, as if he were taking his time to think about something. Beomgyu does the same, smiling as he takes a bite out of his own food.

“School?” Yeonjun says after swallowing a few more bites. He takes a sip from his wine and then all of his focus is back on Beomgyu. “I like intelligence, works in my favor for when we’re at boring events full of old men talking to me about their third wives.”

Both Beomgyu and Yeonjun grimace at that. He then notices that Yeonjun’s glass is nearly empty, Beomgyu wonders how much wine Yeonjun can handle before he’s intoxicated.

“However,” Yeonjun says, unbothered. “You’re a bit pricey, why is that?”

Beomgyu feels his stomach drop. The way Yeonjun says it makes it sound like what he’s asking for might be a deal breaker. When they were talking online, Yeonjun had asked him to name a price. At the time, Beomgyu hadn’t thought it was too much for a man like him. Anything extra could go straight into his savings. Either way, he just needed enough to send home, and enough for school.

“It’s for myself,” admits Beomgyu. “For my situation, mostly for my past student debt. I don’t have nearly enough funds to go back anytime soon to finish my degree, and it’s something I really want to do.” His eyes narrow, his emotions take over his words. “Something happened in my life a few years back,” he sighs. “I um— I still haven’t forgiven myself for dropping out of college so I’m doing this for myself.”

He doesn’t say another word after that, just lets the silence take over. He goes back to eating, trying to at least enjoy the free dinner.

“That’s a very admirable trait,” Yeonjun speaks up. “If that’s something you want for yourself,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “I can make it happen for you.” He goes on to say casually, eyes leveled with Beomgyu’s. “I’m usually a very picky man, but I hold a lot of respect for people when they can admit they need help achieving something they want.”

Beomgyu nibbles on his bottom lip, the conversation at hand has him realizing how heavy the topic has gotten. Yeonjun had essentially just implied he’d pay Beomgyu’s way through school, simply because he respected Beomgyu for acknowledging his failures. There hadn’t been a trace of judgment in his voice when he said it. If anything, Beomgyu had only heard sincerity when Yeonjun recognized that he’d asked for this deal because he’d reached a dead end.

Whether Yeonjun said that simply because he’s getting something in return, Beomgyu isn’t sure. But he does understand what sacrifice means, and it makes him wonder what kind of past Choi Yeonjun must have lived through to come to conclusions like that.

The rest of their dinner is mostly in silence, and Beomgyu isn’t bothered by it. As they’re both eating their meals, Beomgyu finds himself comfortable in the small noises that fill the air, the occasional swallow from a wine glass.

Yeonjun’s the first to finish eating. He pushes his plate aside and dabs at the corners of his mouth with his napkin, almost like it was rehearsed. Beomgyu smiles to himself, there’s not a speck of food on him, not a single thing out of place, but he supposes it’s the impression that counts.

“I think there’s a few things we should make clear,” Yeonjun adds, his voice is more accepting than strict. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Beomgyu shifts in his seat.

“I can give you a time and place,” Yeonjun starts again. “You show up, I pay you at the end of it. We’ll both be happy.”

Part of him feels elated by Yeonjun’s words, Beomgyu had been hoping all night that this would work in his favor so it’s nice to hear the confirmation.

“But,” Yeonjun’s voice demands his attention. “If there are any lines crossed, I want you to say something. Is that clear?”

Yeonjun seems like the type of man who’s careful when it comes to consent, so instead of nodding, Beomgyu answers, “Yes.”

“If that’s all...” Yeonjun sounds pleased. “Then there’s a gala this Saturday, and I’d love for you to accompany me as my date.”

Beomgyu wasn't expecting something so soon. The offer itself isn’t sudden, it’s just that he has no idea what Yeonjun actually wants from him. But if being Yeonjun’s date at some event means getting a taste of Yeonjun’s world and the life he lives, then by all means. It’s Beomgyu’s first real chance to see if he can play the part and hold up his end of the deal.

“We’ll have to get you a new suit,” Yeonjun hums and takes the final sip from his wine glass.

“Another one?” Beomgyu almost squeaks. He’s barely worn the one that showed up at his door.

Yeonjun doesn’t answer him, instead he decides to get up from his seat. Standing beside it, he smiles and his voice is silky smooth when he says, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Beomgyu.”

He wonders if he should get up too, but Beomgyu hasn’t even finished his plate and he’d feel bad if the food went to waste. Beomgyu swallows and looks up at the man before him. The waitress hasn’t been back and Beomgyu’s now thankful for it, he kind of likes the fact that it’s just the two of them.

There’s a brief moment where Beomgyu thinks Yeonjun’s about to leave him with just that. He wouldn’t blame the man if he did, there’s not much else to say since everything else can be discussed when they face it.

But it seems that Yeonjun is a man full of surprises.

Yeonjun takes a few steps closer to the end of the table. Leaning down, he gently cups Beomgyu’s jaw in his hand. His fingers are smooth, a little callused, and Beomgyu finds himself liking the feel of them. Yeonjun bends slightly and pauses, giving Beomgyu a few seconds to stop him if he wants to. When Beomgyu doesn’t, Yeonjun presses his lips against his.

It’s the softest brush of a kiss, but it’s enough to awaken Beomgyu’s nerves. His breath hitches, the warmth of it spreading all the way down to his toes.

Before he knows it, Yeonjun pulls away, leaving Beomgyu with his eyes still closed and a tingling sensation on his lips. When he finally blinks them open, Yeonjun has already taken a few steps back, a hint of mirth shining in his eyes.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu.” Then Yeonjun turns and walks away, not another word spoken as he leaves Beomgyu behind.

He watches, just sitting there the entire time as Yeonjun retreats to the front of the restaurant. Not once does he turn back around to look at Beomgyu. And suddenly, Beomgyu feels a little cold. He hadn’t realized how much warmth Yeonjun brought with him to the table, how it lingered in the air, subtle and quiet, until it was gone.

Once Beomgyu has his heartbeat back under control, he's not sure how long he sits there. He finishes his food, looks back at the scenery and just enjoys. It’s gone dark and the brilliant, bright lights of the city leaves Beomgyu in a trance. Eventually the waitress comes back at some point to clean the table, and Beomgyu asks her for the bill—he does it to confirm his suspicions, the waitress waves him off, stating that it was already taken care of.

When he steps out into the night, he smiles, thinking about how the evening turned out better than he ever could have imagined. Beomgyu can only hope that things work out with Yeonjun in the long run.

₩

“Hyung, where the hell were you last night?”

So the thing is, Taehyun’s his best friend, has been since they graduated high school together. They’ve been living in the same apartment for two years now without any complaints. Beomgyu’s always been a lot more adventurous than Taehyun when it comes to certain situations, situations like coming home late from a date with a new sugar daddy.

He’s lying on his bed, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling—procrastinating really. He’s supposed to leave for work in an hour, and he doesn’t want to, not even a little bit. It’s just past eight in the morning, and Beomgyu’s still half-asleep, trying to form coherent answers to the questions Taehyun keeps throwing at him from across the room. Questions that definitely require more than a one-word reply.

Taehyun shoots him an incredulous look, eyes fixed on the Tom Ford suit draped haphazardly across the bed. Beomgyu follows his gaze, blinking slowly. Yeah, he probably should’ve hung it up last night. But he’d been exhausted when he got back from the restaurant, and dealing with his closet felt like too much work.

Beomgyu doesn’t even know if he’s keeping it or not. Maybe Yeonjun will request him to return it, he has no idea.

“I had a date with a very rich man,” states Beomgyu, voice still raspy from his slumber. “The suit was a gift.”

Taehyun steps near Beomgyu’s bed, examines the suit by running a hand over the fabric. “A gift? From a very rich man?” questions Taehyun, blinking with his big, owlish eyes.

Glancing away from his phone, Beomgyu rubs at his eyes and just smiles up at Taehyun. A very sheepish smile that he only wears when he’s up to nothing but trouble.

“Don’t tell me you actually went through with that crazy idea of yours.”

Beomgyu grins at his roommate. “I found myself a sugar daddy, Taehyun.”

It makes sense that he’s telling Taehyun, because it’s not like he’d mention this to his family. He knows he’ll have to confide in someone, and although Taehyun worries about Beomgyu’s wellbeing, he’s respectful. He knows that Taehyun won’t get mad, at most a little bewildered at Beomgyu’s confession.

Chuckling, Taehyun rolls his eyes at Beomgyu. “Stop fucking around. Where did you get this suit?”

“I’m being serious, Taehyun. I told you I wanted to fix this mess in my life, so I’m doing it.”

Taehyun curses under his breath, takes a seat next to Beomgyu and stares down at him. “So what? You’ve found a man twice your age to pay you for sex?”

Beomgyu snorts and shakes his head. “He’s actually not much older than me. It’s—” he cuts himself off, tries to figure out exactly what he wants to say. He doesn’t want Taehyun walking out of this room dissatisfied with Beomgyu’s decisions. He’s never been one to lie to Taehyun, honesty has always been a big part of their friendship. “Sex is only a part of it. But it’s more than that, I think.”

“You know I’ll always support you, hyung. But are you sure this is something you want to stick with?” Taehyun gnaws on his bottom lip, and Beomgyu can tell there’s something else he wants to say, something Beomgyu probably isn’t going to like. “Is it really just about the money?” asks Taehyun. “Because we can figure something out, we always do.”

He loves him for it, really. Taehyun always tries to reassure him, but Beomgyu doesn’t think this is something they can easily fix. Not unless Taehyun helps him rob a bank or something, and they both know they’d utterly fail at any kind of heist. Besides, Beomgyu would rather die than make Taehyun take on another job on top of the one he already has. The boy would have no time or energy left for his studies.

Beomgyu’s already dropped out of college and he sure as hell won’t let the same thing happen to Taehyun as well. He doesn’t want any of his problems becoming a problem for Taehyun.

“It’s more than just the money, Taehyun,” Beomgyu starts, heaving a sigh as he sits up on his bed and leans back against the headboard. “I’m always—” He pauses, looking at Taehyun. His voice turns quieter when he continues. “I’m just so tired of stressing about everything. Making sure my mother doesn’t work herself to death. Fighting with the insurance people over the phone about Sumi’s medications…”

Which was frequent. His sister, Sumi, requires a lot of medication which in turn requires a lot of money in order to get them. Beomgyu’s always on the phone with them about billing stuff, he doesn’t need more stacks of bills added to the already big pile.

“I’m exhausted, okay,” Beomgyu admits, gaze dropping from Taehyun’s face. “For once, I want to be the one being taken care of.”

Taehyun gives him a sympathetic look while reaching for Beomgyu’s knee, patting it with his hand, he gives it a gentle squeeze for assurance. “Promise me you’ll be careful?” Taehyun looks at him seriously. “This could get very messy, very quickly.”

“I know,” Beomgyu replies, “I promise you I’ll be careful, don’t worry about me.” He gives Taehyun a teasing smile when the other rolls his eyes at the command.

“So what’s the guy’s name? What does he do?” Taehyun asks, one eyebrow raised as he bites the inside of his cheek, waiting.

“Choi Yeonjun?” Beomgyu’s voice comes out lightly inquisitive, like he’s testing the waters, like there’s a chance Taehyun might recognize the name. “I don’t know what he does yet, but he has lots of money and that’s what’s most important to me.”

Taehyun chuckles, “I’ve definitely read the name somewhere.” He then wiggles his eyebrows, insinuating something, “Is he good looking?”

Without knowing it, Beomgyu blushes and looks past Taehyun trying to imagine Yeonjun before him. Only a day later and he already finds himself missing the other man’s presence. “Yeah, he’s uh— wow.” He doesn’t know why he’s acting so bashful, he hasn’t even done anything with Yeonjun besides the one very innocent kiss between them.

“Wow?” repeats Taehyun. “Just one meeting and he’s already got you using big words,” he jokes while moving his hand on the underside of Beomgyu’s knee, eliciting a small squeak from him.

Beomgyu pushes Taehyun’s hand away gently, he’s ticklish there. “He’s hot, okay?” he bluntly confesses. “He’s actually fucking gorgeous,” he says this time in a dream-like voice while thinking of the kiss.

He then thinks about Yeonjun’s pouty lips, how tall he is, his voice, so sweet yet sultry. A deep sigh leaves his mouth and Beomgyu knows he probably resembles a little school girl with a crush. He kind of hopes Taehyun slaps him out of this daze.

Taehyun grins at him and gets up from the bed. “Well, I hope everything works out. You definitely need the money, Beomgyu.” He holds a hand out for Beomgyu to grab onto and helps him off the bed, “I’m assuming you’re not telling Sumi and your mom, right?”

“Definitely not,” Beomgyu shakes his head forcefully.

He knows it’s going to be hard to keep this secret from them, especially if they catch on to Beomgyu paying their bills with ease alongside his own. Beomgyu can already picture Sumi’s suspicious eyes lurking over his every move if he lets something slip out over where the money’s coming from. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his teenage sister, it’s just that he’s the older brother, basically the man of the family, he should be the one taking care of everything.

And his poor mother, his heart aches for her. She’d worry so much over Beomgyu if she found out where the money was coming from and all he wants to do is make her life easier. Maybe once he’s all caught up with their debt and expenses, he’ll take both of them on a vacation.

“Promise me you won’t mention this to anyone, okay?” Beomgyu pleads.

Taehyun of course nods, he knows how much Beomgyu needs this money. “Just please don’t make me worry over you.”

Beomgyu pulls him in for a hug. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

And with that the conversation ends and Beomgyu heads to the bathroom to get ready for work. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he takes note of how much his red hair has faded, now it looks more like a burnt orange. Maybe Beomgyu will use some of the money that Yeonjun will give him to dye his hair a new color.

He shakes his head. Priorities, c’mon Beomgyu.

The first thing he wants to tackle is Sumi’s medical bills. They’re the most burdensome of the bunch, and paying them down would help his mother tremendously. Next, if he plans to go back to school, he’ll have to sort out his tuition. He’ll also need a laptop—sharing one with Taehyun won’t be an option once they both have their own studies to focus on.

Beomgyu groans at the thought of how much money it will take to get his life back in order. Still, he’s grateful that Yeonjun liked him enough to invite him out again. This time, he knows he’ll definitely be getting paid.

Something tells him Yeonjun is going to leave a strong impression on his life in the coming months. Whether that turns out to be a good thing or a bad thing, well, that remains to be seen.

₩

He’s standing in a crowded room filled with people in suits and elegant dresses, some older, some younger. The only thing keeping him grounded amid the constant flow of people passing on every side is the arm he has looped through Yeonjun’s. He wants to tug at his collar, the urge to fuss with his tie almost unbearable, but he doesn’t want to embarrass Yeonjun in any way. He’s grateful that Yeonjun clearly knows what he’s doing.

His date also looks exceptionally good tonight, and Beomgyu feels like a teenager who has no idea how to flirt even if his life depended on it. Earlier, when the car dropped him off, Yeonjun had been the one to open the door, completely stealing Beomgyu’s breath away. The man is dressed in a simple black suit, his bow tie perfectly placed, and not even the chill of the night can disturb his superbly styled hair.

Beomgyu doesn’t know if he’ll ever grow tired of how handsome Choi Yeonjun is.

Yeonjun had reached for his hand, aimed his pretty, plush lips at them and kissed the back of it for the second time since they’d met. “Good evening, Mr. Choi,” Yeonjun had said to him with a gentle smile, in which Beomgyu had felt weak in the knees after.

Yeonjun hadn’t given Beomgyu much direction on how to act tonight. The only thing he’d said, once Beomgyu stepped out of the car, was, “They’ll probably think we’re dating. They—being the people who work for me and some of my associates. I hope you can act.”

All of it delivered with the faintest smirk on his face.

Beomgyu is a good actor—or at least he knows how to lie—and something about lying around rich people excites him. Still, that doesn’t stop him from feeling like a fish out of water among all these powerful people. Especially when the only person he knows here is practically a stranger as well.

Yeonjun is soon pulled into a group of people, and Beomgyu is dragged along with him. They both have glasses of champagne in hand, and Beomgyu can’t help admitting he likes this far more than the wine from their first meeting. He’s hanging off of Yeonjun’s arm when a woman speaks up.

“And who’s this?”

Beomgyu starts to offer her a warm smile, but a hand slips across his back and settles at the top of his tailbone. Yeonjun leans into him, completely relaxed in a way Beomgyu can’t quite manage himself, not when Yeonjun begins rubbing soft circles against his back.

“This is Beomgyu,” says Yeonjun in a low voice.

Blushing at the mention of his name, Beomgyu ducks his head slightly, trying to look bashful in front of the small circle of people. Normally he enjoys being the center of attention, but there’s something about standing among people with more money than he could ever imagine that makes him want to disappear.

“Beomgyu was sweet enough to accompany me tonight.” Yeonjun pauses to send Beomgyu a small grin before dipping his head and whispering, “You know how absolutely dreadful these things can be.”

A roar of laughter echoes around them and Beomgyu finds himself joining in, as if he does know how absolutely dreadful these things can be. But following along seems like the appropriate thing to do.

The woman goes on to say, “Oh, but Yeonjun, you don’t mean that, do you?”

The moment Yeonjun’s name is mentioned, Beomgyu feels a squeeze at his side. He glances over and finds a tight-lipped smile on Yeonjun’s face. It almost makes him laugh, because it’s a smile that looks a little menacing, touched with a hint of sarcasm. For a second, Beomgyu thinks Yeonjun might actually bite the woman if she says his name again.

“Last time you were at one of these, no one left the building without learning who you were.”

Yeonjun’s posture stiffens slightly beside him, as if the woman’s words struck a nerve. His smile stays in place, though it’s far less genuine now—the woman doesn’t deserve one from him anyway. Beomgyu catches himself wishing he could kiss him, just to turn that smile into something softer. It isn’t the first time he’s thought that wealth doesn’t guarantee happiness, but it is the first time he realizes that even someone like Yeonjun can carry misery.

And before the woman can say another word, Yeonjun kindly excuses himself with Beomgyu right behind him. Beomgyu frowns, wondering if he should ask what’s wrong. But Yeonjun shows no sign of agitation, drifting back into the crowd as though nothing happened.

It’s the perfect opportunity to people-watch, something Beomgyu enjoys whenever he can. At an event like this he isn’t anyone of importance, which suits him just fine, he’s not sure he could keep up with the conversations going on tonight anyway. He’s not an idiot, quite the contrary, but investments, money, and profit margins aren’t things he can easily make up answers for.

Nevertheless, Beomgyu watches the way Yeonjun interacts with everyone. He’s certain Yeonjun can feel his fascinated gaze lingering on him, but he never brings it up. Yeonjun is the center of attention as they move through the room with quick greetings and farewells, short bows, and easy compliments exchanged between groups. For Beomgyu, it all blurs into a sea of unfamiliar faces. Still, he finds himself enjoying the way Yeonjun smiles at people he clearly couldn’t care less about. And after a while, Beomgyu comes to a quiet realization that he’s spent far too much time watching Yeonjun tonight.

“I should apologize, I wasn’t expecting so many people tonight,” starts Yeonjun. “I should have given you the proper heads up on how these things usually work.”

They’ve managed to get to an area of the room where they can finally breathe. Yeonjun still has his hand resting against Beomgyu’s back.

“There’s no way you could have known. It’s okay, Yeonjun.” Beomgyu’s brows knit together, confused by the apology he doesn’t think Yeonjun needed to make.

Yeonjun shrugs, then smiles at Beomgyu. “You impressed me tonight, kept yourself from looking bored.”

“I wanted to make you look good, thought it was my job?” replies Beomgyu.

A smug look makes its way onto Yeonjun’s face, he licks his lips and shakes his head slightly before saying, “I can do that myself.”

Beomgyu cracks a smile, lets out a few huffs of laughter at Yeonjun’s cocky remark. He’s not offended in the least, he knows Yeonjun’s correct. Before he can answer, Yeonjun nudges him.

“Although,” says Yeonjun, his smile widening. “You did make me look better tonight.”

Yeonjun really does seem impressed, and Beomgyu can’t help the small swell of pride in his chest. Knowing he did well tonight is nice, but hearing Yeonjun say it makes it even better.

Beomgyu tries to come off a little shy when he asks, “Really?”

“Do you like that?” Yeonjun’s eyes light up. He asks again, “You like when I praise you?”

The question makes Beomgyu freeze for a second, struck by the sudden realization that Yeonjun has been paying just as much attention to him as Beomgyu has been paying to Yeonjun all night. There’s something about the way Yeonjun reads people so effortlessly that unsettles him in the best possible way. It leaves his knees a little unsteady, like being seen this clearly might make him fall apart. Beomgyu likes being complimented, likes to know when he’s doing something well.

“Maybe,” Beomgyu whispers. He's gnawing on his bottom lip, eyes nervously set on Yeonjun’s mouth, as if waiting for another word of admiration to be said.

“Is that something you’d want more of?”

Yeonjun isn't looking at Beomgyu, rather focused on the people back in the room. But Beomgyu doesn’t doubt that all of the man’s attention is still on him.

“Of what?” asks Beomgyu.

There’s no answer when Yeonjun’s hand drops from Beomgyu’s waist. He looks at him, holds out his hand for Beomgyu to grab and says, “Follow me.”

Usually, Beomgyu would protest at a simple command like that. But he takes the offered hand and grins when their fingers intertwine. Yeonjun starts leading the way, and all Beomgyu can think about is how soft and warm Yeonjun’s hand feels against his. They easily move through the crowd, Yeonjun sending smiles to the people he comes across. He looks so at ease as they head towards their exit.

Once they’re in the lobby, there are a series of hallways to the right of them. It’s all very spacious, meant to host parties like this one.

They’re still holding hands when Beomgyu expects Yeonjun to lead them outside, but instead, Yeonjun starts heading towards one of the hallways. They pass a few people, neither of them pay attention to their fleeting glances. Beomgyu’s palm grows a little damp in Yeonjun’s hand, but Yeonjun holds on without the slightest hesitation.

It’s only when Beomgyu notices the plaque on the door ahead that he lets out a quiet snort. Yeonjun doesn’t strike him as the type who gets off on the thrill of getting caught, but apparently he keeps surprising him.

Yeonjun turns back with his hand on the restroom door, giving a small tilt of his head to beckon Beomgyu in.

Beomgyu chuckles at the obvious gesture and lets Yeonjun escort him into the restroom. It makes sense that this would be their destination—getting frisky in the back of the car probably isn’t something Yeonjun’s driver needs to overhear. Still, Beomgyu can’t help wondering what Yeonjun plans to do, and the question slips out before he can stop it.

“What are we doing?” asks Beomgyu. He steps closer to Yeonjun, waiting for an answer.

Yeonjun only cocks an eyebrow, voice low when he replies with, “You’ll see.”

It’s clean in here, the cleanest he’s ever seen a restroom if he’s being honest. They’re the only ones inside, Yeonjun checks every individual stall to make sure. Then Yeonjun walks back to him, crowding him against the door. He hears the soft click of the lock sliding into place, and Beomgyu’s mouth goes completely dry.

Yeonjun reaches for Beomgyu’s neck, the palm of his hand gently resting against the warm skin, thumb rubbing just under his jawline. “We’ll start off with something simple.”

Beomgyu nods quickly, leaning into Yeonjun’s touch. The look Yeonjun gives him is enough to turn him on—it’s all in his eyes, like he’s trying to draw a reaction out of him. He has to lick his lips first, glancing over Yeonjun’s shoulder so he doesn’t give in too easily to the man’s actions.

Although the restroom is spacious, it's probably bigger than his entire apartment if he were to look around more. Being this close to Yeonjun makes the air feel a little thicker, and it doesn’t help that Yeonjun slips a hand around his waist, the grip careful but precise, just like the man himself.

“You were so good tonight,” Yeonjun says, face gravitating close to Beomgyu’s. “So good for me.”

Beomgyu is tempted to close the distance between their lips. It would be their second kiss, after the more than innocent one from their first meeting. There's only a few inches between their faces, and Beomgyu has to look up to meet Yeonjun's gaze.

Yeonjun’s voice softens. “I already told you how impressed I was with you tonight.”

Their eyes lock, and Beomgyu’s having a difficult time not collapsing under his stare. Something about the man’s hooded, sharp shaped eyes has Beomgyu feeling like he’s in a trance.

“So I should also tell you how nice I think you look,” Yeonjun says, his gaze dropping to Beomgyu’s suit.

The one Yeonjun picked out for him, Armani or something. To Beomgyu it had only looked black and white, but Yeonjun had insisted there were far better ways to describe how he would look wearing it.

“The main attraction in my eyes.”

A soft gasp escapes Beomgyu’s lips because Yeonjun’s words aren’t untrue. Beomgyu remembers several moments when he caught people staring his way tonight. He knows he’s attractive, but hearing Yeonjun say it to his face still brings a blush to his cheeks.

Yeonjun takes a step back, and Beomgyu almost wants to protest. Yeonjun then tucks both hands into his pant pockets, and Beomgyu can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in his suit.

“All those people out there… the way they stared at you. I could practically read their dirty thoughts.”

Beomgyu shakes his head, he wants Yeonjun to know he doesn’t care about those other people, they’re not what he wants. Sure, it’s flattering that men and women alike had been attracted to him tonight, but all he was trying to do was be good for Yeonjun—to smile politely, bow when appropriate, and look pretty beside his date.

Then Yeonjun leads him away from the door. They walk toward the mirror between the sinks and stalls. It’s one of those floor-length mirrors, the kind people use to take pictures of their outfits when events like these get a little too boring. Behind him, Yeonjun presses close, a hand settling on each of Beomgyu’s hips, his mouth brushing the shell of Beomgyu’s ear. Beomgyu lifts his gaze to the reflection in front of them and finds Yeonjun already watching him, a small smile resting on his lips.

“But you were with me tonight,” Yeonjun murmurs in Beomgyu’s ear. “I guess it’s true what they say. Everyone wants what they can’t have.”

“I really didn't do much,” Beomgyu tries to reason with him. “I just stood next to you all night.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, leaning in until his cheek rests close to Beomgyu’s as they face the mirror together. His gaze finds Beomgyu’s in the reflection when he murmurs, “Oh, but jagiya,” his voice filled with quiet affection, “you did more than that.”

A sheepish smile spreads across Beomgyu’s face as he tries not to break Yeonjun’s gaze in the mirror. He wants to please him, so he nods.

“So, once again,” Yeonjun says, his voice serious now as his hands tighten on Beomgyu’s hips. “Is it something you’d want more of?”

Praise.

Beomgyu hesitates, too busy studying Yeonjun’s face in the mirror to answer right away. Yeonjun’s fingers drift over Beomgyu’s hips before settling at the buckle of his expensive belt, but they don’t move any further. Instead, he waits until Beomgyu’s gaze finds his in the mirror again, making sure he has his full attention.

“Is it?” Yeonjun asks again.

“Yes,” Beomgyu breathes out, he even gives Yeonjun a firm nod.

Then, without warning, Yeonjun loosens Beomgyu’s belt and unzips his pants, sliding them down until they gather at his ankles. Beomgyu isn’t typically shy, but the moment Yeonjun thumbs at the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he feels a little self-conscious with Yeonjun still completely clothed behind him.

Yeonjun grins and Beomgyu can’t help but return the smile in the mirror. Yeonjun’s fingers skim over his hip bones through the fabric of his dress shirt, the light touches enough to make warmth rush through him. Beomgyu isn’t even embarrassed, he knows Yeonjun is teasing him.

“What would you like for me to do?”

Beomgyu’s tongue feels thick in his mouth, so dry that he can’t seem to answer.

“How about,” starts Yeonjun. “I make a move, and you tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”

Beomgyu can sense how pleased Yeonjun is by his lack of words, and it only makes the blush on his cheeks deepen. Still, he nods.

And so, Yeonjun slides his briefs down past his thighs, his fingers trailing over Beomgyu’s skin with an almost careful softness. Beomgyu leans back into Yeonjun’s chest, letting some of his weight rest against him. He’s too focused on watching Yeonjun’s reflection to do anything else.

Yeonjun’s hand slips beneath the hem of Beomgyu’s shirt, his tie still hangs neatly around his neck. It’s faint, but Beomgyu feels the brush of skin against his balls, and he’s already so worked up that swallowing feels difficult. His breathing grows heavier, quiet but uneven through his nose.

He shifts his hips forward slightly, chasing more of Yeonjun’s touch. It almost feels deliberate, like Yeonjun wants to make him work for it. Heat pools low in his stomach as Yeonjun’s soft breath brushes the back of his neck, sending another wave of warmth through him. Yeonjun’s lips find the curve of Beomgyu’s neck, pressing there gently. Beomgyu watches it happen in the mirror at the same moment he feels it, his warm, soft lips against his skin. He tilts his head just a little, silently giving Yeonjun more room—and yeah, he's definitely hard now.

Slowly, Beomgyu feels Yeonjun’s hand move lower, cupping his cock. He wishes he could see it happening in the mirror, but his shirt hangs low enough to hide most of it from view. Yeonjun keeps pressing soft kisses along his neck when he finally wraps a hand around Beomgyu. And the warmth of his hand makes Beomgyu let out a quiet whimper. The touch is gentle, almost teasing as it leaves him wanting more.

Beomgyu’s head stays tilted to the side, giving Yeonjun space to kiss along the length of his neck. But even as he does, Yeonjun makes sure their eyes meet in the reflection. And Beomgyu swears it’s the most intoxicating thing he’s ever seen—catching the faint smirk on Yeonjun’s lips just before they press against his skin again.

Eventually, Yeonjun gathers the fabric of Beomgyu’s shirt in his other hand and lifts it slightly, bunching it against his stomach.

It reveals Beomgyu’s cock, and he whines this time when he sees how hard and swollen it is. The tip’s a little red, and Beomgyu doesn’t doubt that soon it’ll be leaking pre-cum. He’s practically standing half-naked, he should be worried that someone could walk in, even though he knows that Yeonjun locked the door. But he’s not, not with Yeonjun’s body warmth right behind him, a kind reminder that he’s not alone.

“Pretty,” comments Yeonjun, tightening his grip around Beomgyu. “I can’t wait to have a little taste.”

If it wasn’t for Yeonjun supporting him, Beomgyu’s knees would have buckled underneath him. Beomgyu’s cock twitches in response, and the image of him fucking into Yeonjun’s mouth plays in his head. He nods repeatedly, like he can’t wait for that either. He turns his head to look at Yeonjun, this time at the real one, not the reflected image.

Yeonjun is still staring at Beomgyu in the mirror with his hand wrapped tightly around the fabric of Beomgyu’s shirt. Slowly, with the hand wrapped around Beomgyu, he thumbs the slit, almost in fascination at the pre-cum now forming. It’s torture for Beomgyu, it’s not nearly enough comfort for release. Yeonjun suddenly smiles when Beomgyu takes a sharp breath of air as he presses harder on the head of Beomgyu’s cock.

The entire time, from the moment Beomgyu’s pants hit the floor, his hands have been fisted at his sides. It’s something to keep him grounded, because he knows Yeonjun wouldn’t like it if Beomgyu tried to touch himself. But in the next second, he reaches for Beomgyu’s left hand, holding it suspended in the air between them. Beomgyu watches as Yeonjun studies it, as if he’s inspecting every inch of his hand.

“You have beautiful hands, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun starts off again. Then there’s an arch in his eyebrow when he says, “I want you to show me something.”

Beomgyu watches him, at first through their reflection in the mirror. But it doesn’t feel intimate enough, so he turns his head slightly until he’s only a few inches from Yeonjun’s face. He's curious, wondering what it is Yeonjun wants to see from him.

“Let me see how you touch yourself,” whispers Yeonjun right at Beomgyu’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Yeonjun loosens his grip around Beomgyu’s cock, reminding him that he‘s had control this entire time. “I want to see these beautiful fingers wrapped around yourself. Is that okay?”

Beomgyu looks straight at Yeonjun, determination in his gaze. “Yes,” he whispers through a small smile. It’s the clearest his voice has sounded since they walked into the restroom.

Yeonjun smirks, turning his head away from the mirror to look down at Beomgyu. Their faces are close, so close that Yeonjun decides to duck his head and place a soft kiss at the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth. Then without warning, Yeonjun removes his hand from around Beomgyu’s cock.

He doesn’t even have time to whine at the loss of contact before he quickly licks his palm and takes himself in his hand. Yeonjun just told him to put on a show and that’s what he’s going to do. Beomgyu’s hand is warm and solid around himself, he almost hates to say that Yeonjun’s hand felt better. But then Yeonjun’s nudging his side with gentle fingers and they both watch as Beomgyu starts doing what he knows best.

He’s desperate, it’s all quick work of his hand, trying to gather as much pre-cum as he can to use as lube. And it’s fine, because Beomgyu’s done this before. Back when he was younger and didn’t have either lube or lotion near him, this was a favorite pastime of his.

Since Yeonjun wants to see him, he keeps Beomgyu supported against his body. One hand still rests on the Beomgyu's hip while his chest braces him from behind. His other hand moves to Beomgyu’s hair, fingers slipping through the strands at the back of his head so he can tilt it upward, directing Beomgyu’s gaze toward their reflection in the mirror.

Beomgyu whimpers as he continues working his hand, a noise that will frequent the night, no doubt. He pumps himself harder, trying to get a rhythm going as he concentrates on Yeonjun’s face. Maybe it’s a little disconcerting how easy this feels for Beomgyu, having someone watch him. He’s jacking off in front of a man he’s only met twice in his life, but it feels right.

They watch each other in the reflection of the mirror, Beomgyu’s hand stroking himself while Yeonjun places more kisses down his neck. Beomgyu lets him, basking in the attention as Yeonjun gently sucks at his skin. His tongue brushes over a vein before traveling upward, eventually reaching Beomgyu’s ear where he softly catches the lobe between his lips. Each flick of his wrist, Beomgyu’s moans get louder, he can feel the edge of his release approaching.

“You look so good, Beomgyu,” mumbles Yeonjun against his neck. “The noises you make? So sweet.”

“Fu— fuck,” stammers Beomgyu, sounding hoarse as he says it. He whines when he fingers the slit, slowly gliding back up to the base of his cock. He wishes Yeonjun would join in, but Yeonjun’s too set on watching him get off without his help. He begs out, “Please.”

“You see how good your hand looks wrapped around your cock?” Yeonjun says, gently rubbing the back of Beomgyu’s scalp.

Beomgyu’s only response is a deep moan. It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep himself focused. He’s barely paying attention to their reflection like Yeonjun wants. Instead, his eyes are hooded, glazed over with lust. And truthfully, the only thing stopping his head from falling back on Yeonjun’s shoulder is the hand at the back of his head. He can feel himself trying to catch his breath, but Yeonjun keeps mumbling sweet, little encouragements in his ear.

“C’mon, jagiya.”

There’s something about the way Yeonjun talks. It isn’t just the sound of his voice—rich and a little raspy around the edges. And it isn’t only the way he speaks to Beomgyu with that quiet endearment that warms his chest. It’s the way the words leave his mouth, the shape of them against those pillowy lips, the faint pout that follows. It makes Beomgyu wish Yeonjun would just kiss him for real.

And that’s it, spurts of cum leak from his cock into his hand. Beomgyu starts to gently thrust his hips, trying to ride out his orgasm as it takes his body over. He can’t see the smile on Yeonjun’s face, but he can feel it when Yeonjun presses his mouth to his neck. His eyes are closed, yet he feels Yeonjun’s smile so well, feels the impression of it before Yeonjun places a kiss right below his jawline.

He feels like he’s floating as he slumps back into Yeonjun’s body. His hand is still loosely wrapped around his cock and Yeonjun continues to hold him, he doesn’t know how long he stands there against the man. Eventually, his cock starts to soften and Yeonjun leads them to the counter so he can rinse Beomgyu’s hand off with water.

Yeonjun helps him pull his pants up and buckle his belt. Beomgyu tries his best to tuck in his shirt and sort out his disheveled hair. But he’s way past the point of looking fucked with his flushed cheeks and bright eyes that can only come from a good orgasm.

Eventually, he starts to reach forward, wanting to return the favor but Yeonjun shakes his head.

“Another time.”

Part of him is disappointed, he’d been hoping to get Yeonjun off after he finished. But the fact that Yeonjun postpones it for another day tells Beomgyu that he isn’t the kind of lover who only cares about his own pleasure.

When they step back into the lobby, hardly anyone is there. Beomgyu is grateful for it, he’d rather no one notice the state of his appearance.

“Let’s get you home, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun tells him, his hand returns to rest on Beomgyu’s lower back.

Yeonjun’s driver is waiting outside, and they get into the car with relative ease. The drive is quiet on the way to Beomgyu’s side of town, something he finds unexpectedly relaxing. They sit close enough that Beomgyu can feel the warmth of Yeonjun’s body beside him, and he likes how comforting it feels after the heated moments back in the restroom. Aside from a few brief smiles when their eyes meet, neither of them say much.

Not until the car finally comes to a stop in front of Beomgyu’s apartment complex. Beomgyu opens his door to step out, but Yeonjun calls his name. The door is still wide open when he turns in his seat to face him again. Yeonjun reaches into the pocket of his coat.

It’s a white envelope. He doesn’t have to guess what’s inside.

“Anything left over is yours to keep. The suits, this...” Yeonjun stares at him, pushing the envelope forward.

Beomgyu reaches for it with one hand. This was part of their deal, but something inside him still feels surprised. He had almost forgotten about the money. Tonight had been something he genuinely enjoyed, and it makes him realize just how much he likes being in Yeonjun’s presence.

His hand barely grazes the paper envelope when Yeonjun speaks.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Yeonjun asks, his soft eyes fixed on Beomgyu’s face.

Beomgyu smiles, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. As he finally takes hold of the envelope, he says, “I think you made sure of that.”

Yeonjun snickers, playfully rolling his eyes at Beomgyu’s comment. Without another word, Beomgyu steps out of the car. He’s about to shut the door behind him when Yeonjun speaks again.

“Beomgyu? One last thing,” Yeonjun says, licking his lips as he tries to meet Beomgyu’s eyes. He leans slightly across his seat, one hand braced against the leather beside him.

“Yeah?” Beomgyu asks, ducking his head down to look inside the car.

Their eyes meet, and Beomgyu is almost startled by the expression on Yeonjun’s face. Yeonjun seems nervous for what he's about to say.

“How do you feel about—” Yeonjun clears his throat before continuing, “maybe calling me daddy?”

Beomgyu scratches his nose, trying to cover up the smirk that instantly forms on his face. He replies quietly, “I think that’s absolutely something I can do for you.”

Yeonjun nods curtly, glancing away as a sheepish smile appears on his lips. “Goodnight, Beomgyu-ssi.”

He closes the door halfway before he says, “Goodnight, Yeonjun-ssi.”

Once he shuts the door, the car slowly pulls away. Beomgyu shakes his head in disbelief, a smile forming as he thinks back on the night he’s had. In just a few hours with Yeonjun, he can already tell how infatuated he’s become with the man. He still barely knows anything about him, and he’s almost embarrassed to reach that conclusion after what they did in the restroom.

But somehow, Beomgyu doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind that he has no idea what Yeonjun does for a living, or even how old he actually is. All he’s aware of in this moment is the quick beat of his heart and the warmth spreading across his face.

Standing there outside his apartment building, the cool night air brushing against his skin and the envelope still clutched in his hand, Yeonjun’s question replays in his mind.

Daddy.

Yeah. That’s something he could definitely do for Yeonjun.

₩

Beomgyu waits a full three days before finally looking inside the envelope Yeonjun gave him. At first he tries to be reasonable, tries to guess how much money might actually be inside. But he’s already planning how he could put it to use.

His mother is still working multiple jobs to keep up with his sister’s hospital bills, insurance can only cover so much. Beomgyu knows he’ll have to be careful. He needs to figure out a smart way to give the money to his mother without making her suspicious. There’s no way in hell he’s telling her where it really came from.

He spends a while trying to think of ways to split the money up. But the moment he finally looks inside the envelope, the effort to plan any of that disappears.

“He gave you three million won just to fuck you?” Taehyun practically screeches after Beomgyu pulls the thick stack of cash from the envelope and counts it out.

Beomgyu’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “We didn’t even fuck though.”

He counts the bills over and over that day, neat stacks of ₩50,000 notes staring back at him. That’s how much he makes in three months at the job he has now. And Yeonjun had handed all of that over just for being his date that night—without even getting the chance to get anything out of it himself.

Beomgyu can hardly believe it. At one point he even feels a little light-headed, swatting Taehyun’s hand away every time his friend gets a little too handsy with the money.

After deciding what to do with the money, Beomgyu gives just enough to his mother to cover one of the many hospital bills. He tells her it’s a bonus from the extra hours he’s been working. She tries to argue, insisting he worked hard for it and should keep it for himself. But Beomgyu refuses. A small part of him feels guilty—he doesn’t think he worked nearly hard enough to deserve that much money. Eventually, after enough persuasion, his mother finally accepts it.

The payment also helps cover the interest on some of Sumi’s older medication, and his mother is grateful. And right now, that’s all that matters to Beomgyu.

Work is slow that day, not many customers come in, so his manager asks him to clean out a few of the animal cages. Beomgyu has been working at the pet store down the street for almost a year now. The paycheck isn’t great, it's barely enough to cover a month’s rent, but he enjoys it. The sound of dogs barking, cats meowing, and the occasional chirp from the parakeets fills the store.

He loves animals, so even if the job doesn’t pay much, it gives him a small kind of happiness he doesn’t find anywhere else. And sometimes, it’s even enjoyable. The way a child’s face lights up the second they walk in and see all the animals always makes Beomgyu smile.

He’s just finished cleaning one of the cages when his phone buzzes in his back pocket. Beomgyu has plenty of friends, but they all know his work schedule, so the sudden vibration surprises him.

He pulls his phone out and quickly checks the notification.

6:53PM | Yeonjun
Can we meet up?

Beomgyu exhales through his nose, biting his bottom lip to stop a smile from spreading across his face. There’s only an hour left of his shift, and he had planned to go straight home afterward. But now Yeonjun is asking to meet, and Beomgyu knows exactly what for. He’s not about to let that opportunity pass.

Yeonjun hasn’t contacted him in about a week and a half, not since the night of the gala. The time apart gave Beomgyu plenty of space to think everything through—the deal, and his sudden attraction to Yeonjun. He isn’t backing out, not even close. Though he knows Yeonjun would let him if he ever decided to. There’s no contract, no legal obligation tying them together, just words and trust.

Beomgyu admires that about him. The way Yeonjun can be both gentle and demanding at the same time. He noticed it that night at the gala: the attention Yeonjun paid to him, the care he took with every move. Out of all the possibilities he could have ended up with, Beomgyu realizes he got lucky when he found Choi Yeonjun.

6:55PM | Beomgyu
when and where?

This will be their second time doing anything intimate, and he can’t deny that he’s a little nervous. It was one thing to get off in front of Yeonjun while he watched, but he has a feeling tonight will be something different. Not that he isn’t willing, Yeonjun already seems to have a strong hold over him. Still, he wonders what Yeonjun wants exactly, what he likes.

There’s no doubt Yeonjun has left an impression on him, and Beomgyu wants to do the same. It’s just business, at least, that’s what he tells himself. But he still wants to know there’s something he can do that will stay in Yeonjun’s mind long after tonight is over. Beomgyu might not have money or a luxurious lifestyle to impress someone like Yeonjun. But if he can do it in other ways, then that will have to be enough.

A few minutes later, Yeonjun replies, letting him know that when he gets home, a car will be waiting for him. For the rest of his shift, the final hour drags by painfully slow.

And sure enough, when he arrives at his apartment building, a car is already waiting outside. He recognizes the driver immediately from the night of the gala. Beomgyu wishes he had time to go upstairs and change, to get out of his work clothes at the very least, but he doesn’t want to keep Yeonjun waiting. Besides, he’s a little too eager to see him again.

The car ride is quiet, which he expected. Beomgyu is too preoccupied with wondering where they’re heading to think about much else. Yeonjun hadn’t told him where they would be meeting, only that a ride would be waiting for him.

But he hadn’t expected the car to pull up in front of such a fancy building. People with briefcases and sharp business suits stream along the sidewalk outside. The car has stopped somewhere on the richer side of Seoul.

When Beomgyu steps out, he instantly feels underdressed compared to everyone around him. It’s not much of an exaggeration—he’s still wearing his work clothes: beige khakis and a plain long-sleeved shirt with the pet store’s logo stitched across the chest. For a moment, he almost considers climbing back into the car and asking the driver to take him home.

Instead, he finds himself standing in the lobby of the expensive building. The marble floors shine under the lights, and the security guard by the desk looks like he’s glaring straight at him. The most logical thing to do is head for the elevators, so he does. The doors ding open a moment later, and Beomgyu steps inside, already scanning the long row of buttons. Yeonjun had texted something about the top floor, so he presses the corresponding one.

He’s the only one in the elevator. He figures it’s because it’s already past evening and most people have gone home for the day. When the doors finally slide open, Beomgyu is immediately met with a sleek sign mounted on the wall.

Choi’s Productions.

Since he still has no idea what Yeonjun actually does for a living, he can’t help wondering what kind of place this is. Whatever it is, it must be important if Yeonjun’s office sits on the very top floor of the building.

Beomgyu steps out of the elevator and pulls out his phone to text him. The floor is practically empty. No one greets him, and the only thing that suggests anyone normally works here is the reception desk where a secretary would usually sit.

8:37PM | Beomgyu
where exactly are u?

Beomgyu is still looking around when he hears it, the soft shuffling, quiet footsteps against the tile, followed by someone clearing their throat. He turns toward the sound, and his eyes quickly land on Yeonjun.

He’s wearing a suit, just like Beomgyu expected, some expensive brand Beomgyu wouldn’t be able to name at first glance. The fabric hugs his frame perfectly, and as Yeonjun starts walking closer, Beomgyu notices the deep shade of navy. As always, his dark hair is styled neatly in place.

“Am I underdressed?” Beomgyu teases, even though he absolutely is. He suddenly becomes far too aware of the khakis he’s wearing.

Yeonjun chuckles lightly, stopping a few feet away from him. “We’re not leaving the building, so what you’re wearing is just fine.”

That definitely catches Beomgyu’s attention.

Yeonjun extends a hand, gesturing for him to follow. Beomgyu walks toward him, glancing around the space again. Everything looks sleek and polished, the kind of spotless that makes the entire place feel even more professional.

“It’s just us, aside from my business partner,” adds Yeonjun. “But his office is on the other side of the building.”

Beomgyu shifts his attention back to Yeonjun and notices that one of his hands is tucked casually into the pocket of his dress pants. He looks so relaxed, so effortlessly cool, that Beomgyu finds it strangely alluring.

“Do you usually work this late?” Beomgyu asks, partly just to start a conversation, though he is genuinely curious. “Or is this how you handle… things like this?”

Yeonjun gives him a look, a small smile curling at the edge of his lips, and Beomgyu can practically read the thought behind it: You really think I haven’t done this before?

Hesitantly, Beomgyu continues, “Isn’t that… I don’t know—” he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, “—bad for your business?”

He tries to play it off like a joke, something light enough to keep himself from thinking too hard about how many people Yeonjun might have had before him—people he’s paid the same way he paid Beomgyu.

They’re almost at the doors to Yeonjun’s office when Yeonjun tilts his head toward him. “I don’t think my employees are all that concerned with what one of their bosses does after hours.”

“Bosses?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow.

He’s wondered about that before—what exactly Yeonjun’s position is, what he does that brings in so much money. Because of their deal, he’d figured it was better not to ask. But Yeonjun was the one who brought him here, to his workplace, and Beomgyu had never imagined he’d be standing outside Yeonjun’s office like this. Asking suddenly feels more than reasonable.

“Well,” Yeonjun shrugs lightly, “co-CEO. My business partner and I run the place.”

He doesn’t want to push by asking what Yeonjun’s business actually does. His money comes from Yeonjun, and that’s all that really matters. It’s not that he’s ever doubted the source of it, never wondered if any of it might be illegal. He just has no idea how much Yeonjun is actually worth. And honestly, Beomgyu’s more than fine with the simple answer. He has no interest in prying into Yeonjun’s business matters anyway.

“So it’s safe to assume no one’s going to walk in on us?” Beomgyu asks. He just wants to make sure he won’t get caught with his pants around his ankles. The last thing he needs is one of Yeonjun’s employees walking in on them in a compromising position.

“The door will be locked, and Soobin knows not to disturb me when I stay late.”

Assuming Soobin must be the other co-CEO, he wonders briefly if he’s anything like Yeonjun—just as hardworking, just as composed—but before he can even think about asking, Yeonjun’s hand settles on his waist, pulling him closer.

“Right this way, Mr. Choi.”

They step into Yeonjun’s office, and Beomgyu’s eyes immediately sweep the room—the expensive desk, the low lighting, the glass windows, and the very nice leather couch tucked to the side. He wonders where Yeonjun plans to take him. The desk is Beomgyu’s first suspicion, but there’s paperwork spread across it, and he doubts Yeonjun would appreciate everything getting knocked onto the floor, no matter how good the distraction might be.

Yeonjun gestures toward the couch instead, and Beomgyu agrees easily. It’s far more convenient for what they’re about to do.

And that's how he ends up here, naked and bent over the armrest of Yeonjun’s expensive leather couch with three of his fingers inside him. He’s missed this, missed the feeling of someone else’s hands on him, the slow, aching burn that reminds him how long it’s been since he let anyone this close. The stretch makes him breathe out Yeonjun’s name, voice unsteady as he leans forward against the couch urging for Yeonjun to go deeper. Any embarrassment he might have had is long gone now.

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu whimpers, pushing back against his fingers. He doesn’t know if he never wants Yeonjun to stop or if he wants him to pull out and replace his fingers with what Beomgyu really desires.

“You think you’re ready, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asks calmly.

The question makes Beomgyu bite his bottom lip. He hates how easily Yeonjun reduces him to a nervous and unsteady version of himself while Yeonjun himself looks completely composed. He’s still mostly dressed, jacket tossed aside, tie loosened at his collar. Beomgyu feels like a mess under his gaze. Yeonjun had taken his time earlier with the lube, patient and thorough, leaving Beomgyu more than ready.

“Yeah, ple— please,” whispers Beomgyu, his eyes clenching tightly.

A hand trails over his ass, it's warm, firm, and so inviting that Beomgyu instinctively pushes back into the touch. The moment doesn’t last as Yeonjun’s fingers slip away, and Beomgyu’s hips jerk slightly at the sudden loss. He’s still slick with lube, the lingering warmth making the absence feel sharper than it should. The emptiness leaves him frowning, a quiet frustration settling in his chest.

Then Yeonjun’s voice comes from behind him, low and amused. “So polite.”

The words draw a soft, satisfied sigh from Beomgyu. “Please, please, Yeonjun,” whines Beomgyu. “Want you to fuck me now, come on.”

Yeonjun’s hand slides up to Beomgyu’s hip, gently urging him to sit up. Beomgyu does, turning his head just enough to glance back at him, only to find Yeonjun watching, openly admiring the line of his body.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He’s not sure he has it in him anymore to beg Yeonjun to finally do something. So instead, he lets his body speak for him. Determination flashes in his eyes as he reaches for Yeonjun, hands tugging impatiently at the man’s clothes, urging him to finally take them off.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little patient, jagiya,” teases Yeonjun as he lets Beomgyu run his hands over his chest.

It’s the third time Yeonjun’s called him that, and Beomgyu is starting to like the nickname more than he should.

The anticipation is almost unbearable. After everything he’s done to coax Yeonjun into doing something, he finally rises from where he’d been kneeling on the couch and begins taking off his clothes. Beomgyu watches him closely, eyes a little wide as they follow every movement. Yeonjun, he realizes, likes to take his time. Beomgyu can only hope that he isn’t this slow once things actually start.

There’s no rush when Yeonjun unbuckles his belt, pops the button of his pants, and pulls the zipper down. No urgency as he slips off his tie, unbuttons his shirt, and lets it slide from his shoulders. Even when Yeonjun finally starts pushing his pants down his legs, his movements stay measured and unhurried—his gaze never leaving Beomgyu for a second.

Beomgyu feels a flicker of relief when Yeonjun finally finishes undressing, just as bare as he is now.

“Turn over,” Yeonjun says, the command softened by the calm tone of his voice as he settles back onto the couch.

Yeonjun doesn’t have to tell him twice.

Beomgyu quickly shifts, bracing himself on his hands and knees before glancing back over his shoulder, waiting. The anticipation thrums through him now, he’s that much closer to finding out what it’ll feel like to be filled by Yeonjun. He watches as Yeonjun reaches for the condom he’d set aside and slowly rolls it onto his cock, movements just as deliberate as before.

Beomgyu wets his lips, fingers tightening against the leather cushion beneath him.

Then finally, there’s a hand back on Beomgyu’s hip, it's gentle as Yeonjun scoots closer to Beomgyu. A small gasp leaves his mouth when he feels the head of Yeonjun’s cock graze over his rim. Yeonjun uses both his hands now to steady Beomgyu’s hips, and while gripping his cock, he takes his sweet time pushing into Beomgyu.

Beomgyu fights the urge to push his hips back. Regardless of how slow Yeonjun's moving, the stretch still feels good. Yeonjun settles in, balls deep with his hips pressed snugly against Beomgyu’s ass. And it’s almost too much for Beomgyu, it's too much sensation tangled with too many feelings for him to think straight. Then Yeonjun pulls back, only to push back in a moment later, the movement harder this time.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and his cock twitches when Yeonjun starts up a rhythm. Deep thrusts in small intervals that Beomgyu enjoys very much. His cock bounces between his legs with each thrust, and he’s thinking how he should touch himself before Yeonjun reads his mind. Yeonjun reaches around Beomgyu’s stomach and pulls him up until he’s on his knees, pressed firmly against his chest with Yeonjun’s hand wrapped around Beomgyu’s cock.

It reminds Beomgyu of the restroom at the gala, where the two of them were in the same position, only then they’d been standing in front of the mirror instead of kneeling on a couch.

The shift in angle draws a deep moan from him as Yeonjun's cock hits his prostate. Slowly, he feels himself relaxing back against Yeonjun, comforted by the warmth of bare skin against his own. Beomgyu tips his head back until it rests against Yeonjun’s shoulder, letting him guide the rhythm while he simply gives in to the moment.

Beomgyu’s mouth falls open at one of Yeonjun’s deeper thrusts, a shiver running through his entire body when Yeonjun buries his face in the crook of his neck. A slow grin spreads across Beomgyu’s face as Yeonjun’s lips press against his skin, warm and lingering as they move along his neck. It’s almost too much at once. He can’t decide what to focus on—the heat and closeness between them or the gentle pull of Yeonjun’s mouth at his neck, leaving marks in its wake.

He finds himself trying to push back into Yeonjun’s thrusts, but a hand on Beomgyu’s hip slides up to reach for his jaw, gripping it firmly as a way to let Beomgyu know that they’re following his pace. Beomgyu groans quietly, because it’s not that Yeonjun isn’t giving him enough, Beomgyu just wants more from him.

“So good,” Yeonjun breathes, the words slipping out unevenly before his voice nearly breaks. His hand moves Beomgyu's jaw, guiding his head so their eyes meet. “It’s good, yes?”

Beomgyu could answer if he wanted to—his mouth parts like he might—but the moment Yeonjun’s grip tightens around his cock and his hip thrusts pause, all Beomgyu manages is a sharp inhale and a confused, needy whine.

“Tell me, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun continues. “Who makes you feel good?” His voice is low, like he’s expecting an answer. And for emphasis, Yeonjun gives an unexpected hard thrust.

“You, fuck—” Beomgyu chokes out, “—you are.” He feels Yeonjun smirk against his neck, nuzzling right into it.

Yeonjun presses a chaste kiss beneath Beomgyu’s ear, humming in quiet satisfaction at his answer. He fucks up into Beomgyu again before asking, voice low, “And who turns you on to the point where you’re begging for it?”

Beomgyu gasps at the sudden force of his thrust, completely unprepared. “You do,” he answers, voice steadier this time.

And suddenly it clicks for him—Yeonjun isn’t asking just to tease, he wants to hear it. Beomgyu waits, almost certain he knows what the next question will be. A few seconds later, Yeonjun proves him right.

“And who fucks you like nobody ever has before?” There’s nothing hesitant about the way he asks it, the confidence in his voice leaving no room for doubt.

Beomgyu hears the double meaning loud and clear.

He swallows, licking his lips before letting out a slow breath. His hand reaches back instinctively, searching for something to ground himself with, and settles against Yeonjun’s upper thigh. The lean muscle beneath his palm is warm and solid as he turns his head to meet Yeonjun’s gaze.

“Daddy,” Beomgyu suddenly moans, the word slipping out softer than he expects, almost desperate. He blinks, waiting for Yeonjun’s reaction.

Yeonjun is already looking down at him, a slow, satisfied smirk spreading across his face, clearly pleased with the answer. Before Beomgyu can say anything else, Yeonjun pulls him into a rough kiss, his lips pressed hard against Beomgyu’s, stealing the air from his lungs. Beomgyu gasps into it, startled by the sudden intensity.

The moment ends before he even thinks to kiss back.

Yeonjun’s eyes are hazy, dark with heat as he leans close again, voice rough when he murmurs against Beomgyu’s mouth, “You amaze me.” Then his hands slide down to Beomgyu’s hips, gripping them firmly as he pushes his cock into him again, the sudden movement drawing another sharp gasp from Beomgyu.

It’s a series of thick, solid thrusts and Beomgyu just wants more, urging for the man to go faster. And when he doesn’t, when Yeonjun sticks to the slow pace that he set for himself instead of speeding up like Beomgyu wants, he whines. Beomgyu’s so desperate that he practically mewls into the side of Yeonjun’s face. He’s still pressed up against Yeonjun’s chest, perspiration making their skin stick together. He wants to cum so badly, but all he does is whisper Yeonjun’s name. Even whispers daddy a few times as Yeonjun holds him in his arms, thrusting into him.

He hasn’t touched himself, his cock’s swollen and pressed against his stomach begging for some form of relief. But luckily, as Yeonjun’s movements start to quicken, Beomgyu feels a hand wrap around him again. He almost chokes at the feeling, Yeonjun’s hand wrapped around his cock, a loose grip that Beomgyu tries to fuck up into it but Yeonjun doesn’t make it easy for him.

“You close, baby?” Yeonjun murmurs, snapping his hips into Beomgyu. He’s still got a hand on Beomgyu’s hip while the other tightens its grip around his cock. He hums into Beomgyu’s ear, “Jagiya wants to come, yeah?”

Beomgyu nods his head frantically against Yeonjun’s shoulder. “Yeah, please, please,” he whimpers while his fingernails dig deeper into the flesh of Yeonjun’s thighs, leaving little crescents into the pale skin.

At Beomgyu’s last plea for release, Yeonjun finally starts moving his hand around him. It’s barely even a moment later when Beomgyu spills into Yeonjun’s fist, toes curling as his mouth drops into a silent moan. He slumps against Yeonjun, clenching around his cock causing Yeonjun to thrust into him a few more times before he finally cums.

The groan that leaves Yeonjun’s mouth makes Beomgyu’s strength falter. The sound is so sweet to his ears that he folds forward, bending until his forehead presses against the leather beneath them, his hands slipping down with him. Still hazy from the rush of his orgasm, Beomgyu stays like that for a moment, caught in the lingering bliss while Yeonjun rides out the last of his release. Yeonjun’s hands remain steady on his hips until he finishes.

They’re both breathing hard afterward. Beomgyu’s eyes are closed, a faint, dazed smile tugging at his lips, while Yeonjun bites down lightly on his bottom lip, his hands moving slowly over Beomgyu’s hips in a quiet, absent caress.

Eventually, Yeonjun eases out of Beomgyu's hole, drawing a soft whimper from Beomgyu as Yeonjun's softening cock slides against his walls. He can’t help the hollow feeling that follows. Later tonight, Beomgyu already knows he’ll find himself thinking back to this moment, remembering how it felt to have Yeonjun so close.

Beomgyu turns his head to watch Yeonjun dispose of the condom before slipping back into his clothes. He almost rolls his eyes at how Yeonjun ends up looking exactly the same as he did when they first met, pristine and precise. Aside from the faint wrinkles where Beomgyu had grabbed at his shirt, there’s no real sign of what just happened on him.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, can’t say the same for himself. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair before pushing himself up from the couch, making his way toward the clothes scattered across the floor.

Once he’s dressed again, he turns back to Yeonjun to find him holding out another white envelope, the gesture is self-explanatory.

Beomgyu takes it with a soft smile, a quiet “Thanks” slipping from his lips. He assumes that’s the end of it, already thinking about the long shower he’s going to take once he gets home.

Until Yeonjun speaks.

“We don’t really know each other that well yet,” Yeonjun lets out a shy laugh. “That’s why I haven’t bought you anything… gifts or things like that.” An apologetic smile tugs at his lips, his eyes shine a little too bright as he looks at Beomgyu. “But I will.”

Beomgyu is already shaking his head, smiling back at him. “The money’s already more than enough, Yeonjun.”

He knows exactly what kind of arrangement they have. In most situations like this, someone in Beomgyu’s position would already be showered with gifts—jewelry, designer clothes, little luxuries meant to show off his generosity. But Beomgyu doesn’t really mind. The fact that Yeonjun has even thought about what he might want to give him is enough. Then again, that’s exactly why Yeonjun had been looking for someone like Beomgyu in the first place. To have someone he could spoil, someone he could give things to.

“I guess,” Yeonjun replies, a little softer this time. “But it’s something I’d like to do… if you’ll allow me.”

And really, who is Beomgyu to deny a rich man’s desire to buy him things?

He nods, offering Yeonjun another smile before sending him one last glance as he takes his time walking out of the office.

The moment Beomgyu steps back into the elevator, he lets out a quiet sigh. The sleek walls surrounding him are a reminder of exactly where he is—the rich side of town. He likes to think he’s getting used to it, being thrown back and forth between two completely different worlds. But the second he returns to his small apartment, he knows the illusion will break. He’ll be reminded all over again of just how unfortunate his life really is.

This arrangement with Yeonjun almost feels like a tease with the tailored suits, the thick envelope of money in his hand, the car waiting outside to take him home. It’s nice, it's all too nice. And he can’t help but wonder how long it will last, how long before it all stops. Before he’s back to worrying about his mother working herself to exhaustion, before the anxiety over his sister’s medical bills creeps back in.

But for now, he lets himself be content. Yeonjun eases the ache in his chest, even if it’s only a little. And for the moment, that’s enough.