Chapter Text
They meet when Yejun gets into a car accident.
Thankfully, it's not his red Mercedes that gets trashed in the incident, but instead the plain old company car. Complaining all the way, he's taken in an ambulance to Seoul National University Hospital, where he stops complaining because the doctor treating him turns out to be outstandingly handsome. He's tall, with glittering dark eyes and delicate features, a beautiful mouth.
Yejun's always been chatty, but he can't seem to stop running his mouth off when the doctor reappears to inform him that his head injury's fine and he hasn't got a concussion. (Yejun very briefly contemplates trying the old 'I got this injury falling for you' line before squashing this terrible idea. Wow, maybe he does have a concussion after all.)
The doctor's got a badge. It reads 'Kang Joonhee'.
"I like your given name, Doctor, it's cute," Yejun smiles.
"Oh?" Doctor Kang gives an adorably tiny look of surprise before smiling his perfect doctor's smile. "Isn't it a little girly? My parents thought I was going to be a girl, you know."
Yejun grins. Cute and charming? The cute doctor keeps up the eye contact for a second longer than strictly necessary, and Yejun thinks... oh.
Because Yejun's the kind of guy that flirts with everybody—grannies in the store, ahjummas in the park, pouting foreign boys in Itaewon clubs—and expects nothing more than politeness back, but that look has potential. Yejun offers the doctor his most handsome smile.
A minute later, with horror, Yejun looks into the reflective surface of his bedside table and realises his concealer has all rubbed off in the accident—and he has the beginnings of a mild black eye. Doctor Kang probably thinks he looks deranged.
Well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The doctor comes back to discharge him and Yejun smiles cheerfully in that way that older men like, even though Doctor Kang can't be much older than him, for all that he wears a uniform in the best hospital in Seoul.
"Hyung, you've been so nice, can I give you my number?" It's brazen and completely unapologetic, and the cute doctor looks completely taken by surprise as Yejun shoves his business card into his hands. "Call me, okay?" He runs off—he was late to a company meeting when he was driving, and now he's beyond late—and he doesn't want to see the tell-tale look of disgust if he's misread the signs. But he can't help but think it was promising, his encounter with the cute, charming doctor with the thoughtful eyes.
Yejun is thoroughly chewed out at the bank and is in a bad mood for the rest of the day. He also realises when he gets home that there's a rip in the trouser leg of his suit from the accident. He's been walking around all day and nobody thought to tell him, and it's his best Westwood. He's in a foul mood by the time he parks in front of the apartment block and flops on the sofa, and forces himself to calm down.
Okay, the Westwood is ruined. It can be fixed. New Westwoods can be bought. Okay, his boss completely chewed him out today. He can get a new boss. He can get a new job. He's clever and good at what he does.
The phone rings. Fully expecting it to be his office with yet more complaints (Yejun has left early today instead of putting in more useless face time), he's not prepared for the kind voice at the other end. "Is this Choi Yejun?"
"Yes?"
"It's Kang Joonhee. Doctor Kang?"
"Oh!" Yejun trips over himself in surprise. Guys don't usually call back immediately—not for a few days at least, for fear of looking desperate. He can't tell if Kang Joonhee is clueless or just too sweet to go through the pretense that he doesn't care. It's oddly charming.
Joonhee (he requests that Yejun call him by his first name) asks is he's free that night. He is, of course, and they end up setting a dinner date. Yejun gets excited since, really, it's been forever since he's been on a nice date with a nice man, so he suggests that the best restuarant he can think of. Joonhee sounds surprised but agrees.
"Wear your sharpest suit," Yejun orders, since if the cute doctor can't put up with Yejun's controlling ways in the matter of proper dress he'll never be worth having. Joonhee laughs—a pleasant sound that makes Yejun's stupid heart skip a beat—and promises that he will.
Dinner is—fun. Yejun's stunned into silence for a good few minutes when Joonhee walks in wearing the slickest suit he's ever seen—it's all black and sleek and clings to chest and thighs in a thoroughly distracting way, showing off his obviously well-toned body. And—Joonhee seems perfectly at ease, coaxing Yejun into talking about his job, his friends, his life. Yejun, the constant talker, is happy to have such a great listener. It's easy, and natural, and more fun than Yejun's had in ages.
They decide to keep things going after dinner and go to a tiny little bar, packed with salary-men and the occasional group of teenagers, and get some seats in the closed-off back area. They drink soju, of course, Yejun knocking it back down with relish while Joonhee watches him with unfathomable dark eyes and drinks when Yejun fills his glass.
"Haven't you drunk enough?" Joonhee asks in a gentle, amused voice.
"Mm, never. Wait, am I driving tonight?" Yejun squints at his shot glass in case it holds the answer, then downs the drink. The soju makes him shudder.
"No... we're getting a cab," Joonhee says firmly, and Yejun grins and turns towards him.
"Doctor, you've let me prattle on about myself and you haven't told me anything about you!"
Joonhee smiles another slow, charming smile, a smile that doesn't easily give up its secrets. "What would you like to know?"
Yejun considers. "Well," he says, leaning in with the air of someone with important, secret questions. "You know how everyone has one big flaw?"
"Do they?"
Yejun nods, all seriousness.
"What's yours?" Joonhee asks, tilting his head.
Yejun smiles. "Isn't it obvious?" He lifts the glass of soju, nods at Joonhee and knocks it back. Joonhee looks saddened instead of amused, so Yejun changes the subject. "Let's trade," he says, savouring the mind-numbing kickback of the soju.
Joonhee considers, expression thoughtful. Yejun fills his glass and Joonhee drinks, grimacing with the face of one about to do something very uncomfortable. "Until—a few years ago, I lived with my best friend."
"...That doesn't seem so bad."
"I've been in love with him since I was fifteen. He's straight."
Yejun whistles low. "Well, you don't get to be queer in a country like this without getting your heart stuck on at least one straight man or two. Sucks, doesn't it?" They clink their glasses and down their drinks in agreement.
Before Joonhee can subtly change the subject, which he has started to notice that Joonhee does very sneakily, Yejun asks: "Did he find out, your friend?"
Joonhee seems to always measure Yejun up before he responds. Yejun finds this look increasingly penetrating, as if Joonhee's looking right through him and uncovering something hidden inside. "He found out," Joonhee says eventually.
"He threw you out?"
Joonhee seems surprised, and shakes his head. "No, I... decided to move out, to get over him. We're... still friends. He found out from a mutual friend." His words are slow and carefully measured. There's a silence, and Yejun drinks, obviously unwilling to fill it. Joonhee sighs. "I confessed to him when we were teenagers. He thought I was joking."
Yejun winces. "Wow, is your friend stupid?"
"No, he's extremely intelligent."
"Good-looking?"
"Very."
"They always are," Yejun groans and makes a gesture as if to ward away all the good-looking, extremely intelligent straight men of the world. Joonhee is amused, looking at him with smiling eyes. "Is this too personal?" Yejun demands.
Joonhee shakes his head. "I've never talked about it all with anyone before. I'm glad to."
"Okay," Yejun says, tamping down the sudden urge to touch Joonhee, or give him a hug or something. "Then, are you still in love with him? Your friend."
Joonhee gazes at him, eyes dark. "I'm not sure."
Yejun nods and then gives in and kisses him. Joonhee curls a hand around Yejun's neck and opens his mouth. It's warm, wet and slick. Yejun feels the world tilt with the alcohol and the sudden movement that got him here, pressed against this beautiful man. Joonhee tastes like soju, clear and sharp. When Yejun pulls away, Joonhee's eyes are even brighter.
"Want to leave?" he murmurs, and Yejun nods.
They end up in a tiny, litter-strewn alleyway, Joonhee's eyes sharp as he presses Yejun into a cold brick wall in the orange light of a street-lamp. This close, Yejun can feel the muscles of Joonhee's shoulders and back with his hands as they kiss. He'd thought Joonhee was taller than him but he's actually maybe an inch shorter, though he's stronger than Yejun, pinning him with just his hands. Brick dust shifts around them. Joonhee's mouth is warm and eager, and he makes small, low sounds of want. Yejun wants all of him.
A hunched man turns the corner and hobbles down the alley as they spring away from each other. His face is shadowed but his quick gait suggests disapproval. "Faggots!" he shouts when he's a few paces past them.
"Fucker!" Yejun yells back with a raised fist as Joonhee, caught between a laugh and a gasp, pulls him out of the alleyway.
"Come home with me?" Joonhee asks, and Yejun just kisses him. Joonhee calls a cab. Yejun carefully backs up a good few metres away and watches him. "What are you doing?"
"The driver won't let us in if he drives up and sees us kissing," Yejun says.
"Then resist the urge," Joonhee says, holding his hand out.
Yejun licks his lips. "That's... why I'm standing over here."
They regard each other for a long, slow moment. Joonhee is good at these looks, his dark eyes never flinching, and Yejun knows he's exceptionally bad. He has too many secrets and far too much guilt. By the time the cab comes, Yejun feels like Joonhee's read all his guilty secrets off Yejun's forehead. Joonhee smiles softly and opens the cab door for him.
They're obviously drunk enough for the taxi driver to be able to tell. "Wild night, eh boys?" he croaks as he starts driving.
"Yes, ahjusshi," Yejun exclaims, in his best young-drunk-man voice. "And I didn't even see a single beautiful girl tonight, aigoo!"
The taxi driver chuckles but Yejun is more surprised to hear Joonhee joining in. He's slumped in other end of the seat, and covering his eyes with a hand as he laughs. It's oddly charming, or perhaps Yejun's just drunk. He reaches out and pokes Joonhee's thigh. With looking, Joonhee's hand darts out and grabs Yejun's in his own, his grip strong and firm. And warm. Yejun keeps his face straight and hopes nobody notices his tiny smile.
Joonhee's apartment is beautiful, much like he is. Not that Yejun pays it much mind, pressing Joonhee back into the door as soon as they get inside. Joonhee pulls away and leads him into the bedroom, which Yejun is sure is also beautiful, even if he can't see it because it's dark.
He's on his knees sucking Joonhee off. Yejun hears Joonhee moaning, then shouting words, and mumbles, "What?"
"Fuck me." Joonhee's looking down at him, inscrutable and serious and dark-eyed.
Yejun pants, "okay", and pulling away, tripping over his feet in an effort to undress. Joonhee kicks off the rest of his own clothes in one smooth motion and lies on the bed, fiddling with the drawer. Even in the half-light, Yejun gets an excellent view of the muscles cording his back, his firm ass and legs. He's whimpering, and doesn't even care that he sounds like a puppy, because, well, sex.
Joonhee tosses him the condom packet and gets to work with the lube, arching as Yejun gets onto the bed, a hand working downwards to open himself up. Yejun's body feels heavy with want, heavy as iron, as time crawls to a still.
Yejun fucks him messily. Joonhee's hips move in a tight, controlled rhythm against Yejun's body. His jaw is tight, his teeth gritted with effort. Yejun feels as if he's watching something private and secret and perfect, thinking wildly, this is what you were made to do.
Yejun doesn't last long at all. It would be embarassing if he hadn't just climaxed. His body thrums as he wraps a tight hand around Joonhee's cock and feels him spill all over his hand.
Joonhee gets up quicker than Yejun's expecting, and he hears the shower hiss. Yejun suddenly hopes that Joonhee doesn't throw him out immediately. But that sinking feeling is probably just the comedown from post-coital euphoria, washed up with familiar feelings of guilt and loneliness. When Yejun's done with his own shower, Joonhee's half-asleep already.
"Should I leave?" Yejun asks, which is only polite. Joonhee reaches for him with his eyes shut.
Yejun wakes up with the sun in his eyes. Who left the curtains open? Oh, he's in a stranger's bedroom again. He sits up to regard a half-awake Joonhee smiling sleepily at him. Yejun thinks, God, he's beautiful.
"I am very, very hungover," Joonhee murmurs almost silently.
"I see." Yejun gets up with purpose, and Joonhee grabs his arm. "Going to make you breakfast, alright?" Joonhee lets go after a moment of deliberation.
Joonhee wanders into the kitchen slowly ten minutes later, following the smell of food, to regard the plates set out on the table. "You cook?"
"Can I... use a toothbrush?" Yejun turns around, giving him a thumbs up and stirring the pot. He also wearing Joonhee's favourite pink apron.
"Yeah, the green one's a spare."
When Yejun sits down to eat, Joonhee gives him a quizzical look. "I'm... usually the one who cooks."
"I don't seem the type?" Yejun says with a grin. Joonhee nods, abashed. "Eh, I was an only child, I had to learn or I would've starved. What about you?"
"Eight older sisters," Joonhee explains, and Yejun's mouth falls open.
"Eight? Eight? All older? ....Wow..."
He muses, then smiles.
"What are you thinking?" Joonhee asks him, taking a bite.
"Honestly?" Yejun looks at him as if in warning.
"Yes."
"I was thinking... I think I've met the perfect man, and God, please help me to not fuck this up."
Joonhee smiles. "I like you too."
THE END