Kiss Me Like You’re Not Married.

Three Days After the Mall Hangout. The group chat had never been this alive.

Between work calls and parenting routines, it became their new daily rhythm. Morning check-ins from Ha-eun. Lunchtime memes from Joon-Won. Seo-yeon's sarcastic voice notes in the evenings. Tae-hyun, who used to keep his phone on silent by habit now caught himself checking for new messages every hour.

Mostly for the ones Joon-Won didn't send to the group.

The night after the bowling trip, the group had thrown around ideas for what to do next. Ha-eun floated the beach. Seo-yeon voted for karaoke. The kids begged for a trampoline park. But Joon-Won stayed quiet, just heart-reacting to suggestions.

Until two nights ago, when Ha-eun finally cornered him in the chat.

Ha-eun:

'you won the shooting bet, mister. you get to choose next.'

'no wine though. The hangover was horrible.'

Seo-yeon:

'Ha-eunnnn you're being dramatic, I swear it was so much fun!'

Joon-Won:

'home day. my place. no wine. I'll cook.'

Tae-hyun:

'you cook?'

Joon-Won:

'you'll see.'

Ha-eun:

'I told yall he cooks when he isn't busy…he's gonna wear that stupid sleeveless shirt again and distract everyone.'

Seo-yeon:

'I'm bringing snacks. and we're NOT playing that adult question game again.'

Joon-Won:

'Fine. just bring your stomachs. I've got the rest.'

The rest of the week passed in layers, casual planning by day, restrained conversations at night.

Tae-hyun kept his head down, playing the part. He dropped hints about the plans to his wife, played with his son more, even complimented Joon-Won's parenting skills out loud over breakfast like it meant nothing. Every piece moved exactly where it needed to be.

Joon-Won let him lead just like they had agreed and it's working. Let Tae-hyun play the tactician. If keeping things domestic for a few weeks earned him the prize he wanted.. which was Tae-hyun himself. then he'd roast a duck blindfolded while doing it.

And when Saturday came, the house smelled like soy-glazed ribs and lemongrass the second they walked in.

When Tae-hyun stepped into Joon-won's house, he looked noticeably more dressed down than usual but in a way that still felt deliberate. He wore an oversized ash-blue hoodie, soft and slightly worn at the seams, the kind that clung loosely to his frame and made his shoulders seem narrower beneath the fabric. The sleeves hung long past his wrists, partially covering his hands, and the front pocket bulged faintly with a phone and some crumpled tissue his son had handed him in the car. His gray sweatpants were cuffed sloppily at the ankles, revealing low-cut socks and clean sneakers he kicked off at the entrance with a quiet sigh.

His dark hair was slightly tousled from the breeze outside, parted loosely and falling over his forehead with less control than usual. There was a flushed tint to his cheeks—maybe from the evening chill, or maybe from carrying a half-asleep toddler into the house minutes earlier. The soft, homey layers he wore gave him a younger, gentler look, especially compared to his usual structured officewear. And even as he exchanged greetings with practiced politeness, there was something in the way his hoodie collar sat slightly askew, or how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, that suggested he wasn't entirely comfortable being here. At least not yet.

⸻

"Smells like someone's trying to show off," Seo-yeon said first, dropping her handbag onto the entry bench and kicking her shoes off.

Joon-won leaned out from the kitchen, apron already on, dark, fitted, borderline dangerous the way it clung to his waist over those damn gray sweatpants again. His ash-blond hair was brushed back cleanly, a slight dampness still clinging to the edges like he'd just showered before pulling it all together. His arms were bare beneath the apron straps, muscles flexing smoothly as he stirred a pot with one hand and opened a cabinet with the other, veins prominent, everything precise but effortless.

Tae-hyun didn't say anything.

He just looked.

His eyes moved down the line of Joon-won's frame, to the subtle indent of his waist under the fabric, the curve of his forearm, the way his mouth stayed slightly pursed while tasting the sauce from the wooden spoon. The damn apron was a distraction — maybe more than the sweatpants — and Tae-hyun hated how quickly his mind wandered back to that night at the apartment. The one no one else knew about. The one he kept replaying in pieces.

"Not trying. Just succeeding," Joon-won said with a smug grin.

"Cocky," Tae-hyun muttered behind his wife, low and half-intended, but his eyes lingered again — longer this time. On the apron. On Joon-won's hands. On his control.

"Come sit," Ha-eun called out, fluffing the cushions in the living room. "Let the man cook. It's the one time he can flex without saying anything annoying."

The kids had already darted to the playroom, voices echoing and overlapping with the scent of seared garlic. Seo-yeon brought her homemade salad and laid it on the counter, peeking at the meat.

"You made that glaze yourself?" she asked, lifting a brow.

"I've got layers," Joon-won said without looking up.

"Dangerous sentence," Tae-hyun quipped as he passed by, fingers brushing Joon-won's lower back without thinking.. quick, but enough for both of them to register it.

Joon-won looked up.

For a second, the noise around them blurred. Tae-hyun stood close, hoodie slouching slightly off one shoulder, ash-blue, soft at the edges and the sight of him like that sent a pulse of heat straight through Joon-won's chest. It was too familiar. Too intimate. Too much like the night Tae-hyun had wandered barefoot around his apartment in one of Joon-won's own hoodies, tea in hand, voice quiet and vulnerable, everything about him looking like he belonged there.

Now, he looked the same... unguarded, effortlessly undone. And it got to Joon-won more than he cared to admit.

Their eyes met.

Something passed between them, unspoken but heavy.

Tae-hyun didn't say a word, but the way he looked at Joon-won slightly narrowed eyes, a knowing stillness behind them, felt like a quiet challenge. Like he remembered it too.

Joon-won's jaw flexed. His grip around the spoon tightened before he forced himself to set it down with care. Too carefully. His fingers twitched once, then flattened against the counter like he needed something solid to ground himself.

'Get a grip.'

He sighed and turned back to the cutting board, lips pressing into a tight line as he picked up the knife again.

Tae-hyun shouldn't look like that here. That comfortable. That familiar. The hoodie made him look smaller, softer and all Joon-won could think about was how it had looked pooled at Tae-hyun's feet. How quiet he'd been that night, curled into a blanket on Joon-won's bed, asking questions in a voice that didn't quite match his usual confidence.

It was dangerous, how clearly he remembered.

And worse… how much he wanted to go back there.

⸻

Plates clinked. A freshly made drink was poured. The table was full, roasted vegetables, tender meat with a dark soy-garlic glaze, and a bowl of something spicy simmering near the center that Ha-eun warned was "not kid friendly, unless you want to see tears."

Joon-won sat at the head of the table, leaned back in his chair in that infuriatingly relaxed way, a casual smirk tugging at his mouth as the others took their first bites.

"Mmh." Seo-yeon blinked. Then looked at her husband. "Wait. This is actually really good."

Tae-hyun paused mid-chew. "Actually?"

Seo-yeon waved her chopsticks. "No offense, but I thought he'd be one of those guys who only thinks he can cook. Like, visually aesthetic but zero seasoning."

Ha-eun snorted. "He's obsessed with seasoning. I've watched this man test a soy ratio for three hours."

"You act like it wasn't worth it," Joon-won said, mock-offended.

"No, it's disturbingly worth it," Tae-hyun said without thinking, then cleared his throat. "I mean… the glaze, it's—" He set his chopsticks down briefly. "Balanced. Just enough sweet to cover the heat. You actually know what you're doing."

Joon-won looked up.

And for a second, the playful smugness slipped. What replaced it was quieter, something pleased and almost proud, eyes softening around the edges as he looked at Tae-hyun like the compliment meant more coming from him than he expected.

"Thanks," he said, voice lower. More genuine.

Ha-eun raised an eyebrow. "You're too happy about that."

"I am," Joon-won admitted, not even pretending otherwise. "It's my first time cooking for you guys. I was nervous."

"You were nervous?" Seo-yeon echoed, dramatic.

"I wanted it to be good," he said, wiping his hands on a napkin, then raking one through his hair. "I mean, I cook for Ha-eun all the time, but this—" He looked around the table. "You're different."

That made everyone pause.

Ha-eun gave him a small look, amused, affectionate but didn't interrupt.

Tae-hyun tilted his head slightly, resting his elbow on the table.

Something about seeing Joon-won like this? relaxed but trying, clearly caring more than he let on made Tae-hyun's chest tighten in a way he didn't like. Or maybe liked too much.

The man was glowing. In his element. A little flushed from the stove, hair slightly out of place, eyes darting between each person for their reaction like a kid pretending he wasn't seeking approval but clearly basking in it. And Tae-hyun couldn't stop watching him. Couldn't stop thinking of the way Joon-won had looked earlier in the kitchen, hands busy, shoulders strong under the apron, jaw set in quiet focus like someone who didn't just cook, but claimed space when he did it.

And now he was sitting there, soaking in praise with his sleeveless shirt, looking too damn good while doing it.

He should not look that pleased. Or that proud. Or that—

Tae-hyun forced himself to glance away, taking a long sip of his drink before saying anything else.

"So," Seo-yeon said, between bites, "who taught you to cook like this?"

"My mom, mostly," Joon-won said, voice casual again. "She was strict about it. Said no son of hers was going to live off convenience stores and ego."

"I like her already," Seo-yeon grinned.

"She sounds like a good teacher," Tae-hyun said, eyes flicking back up. "I mean it."

Joon-won met his gaze again, this time slower, like he heard what was underneath the words.

"Yeah," he said, quiet. "She was."

And for a second, the conversation dipped. The air held something warmer. Not soft, not quite but sincere.

Then Ha-eun clapped her hands. "Alright, now that everyone's buttered him up, can we talk about how I did all the dish-stacking and table-setting while he was playing Top Chef in there?"

"You like my food too much to be bitter," Joon-won smirked.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. So was everyone else.

Except Tae-hyun, who was still watching him — one elbow on the table, fingers curling loosely around his glass, eyes narrowed in a way that didn't look critical.

It looked curious. Focused. Wanting to know what else this man was hiding behind his apron and confidence.

After about half an hour, Plates were halfway cleared, and everyone had settled into the familiar rhythm of second servings, scattered bites, and casual conversation. The kids' laughter echoed faintly from down the hall, and the adults sat comfortably around the table, sipping on chilled fruit juice Ha-eun had poured into tall glasses with fresh mint leaves.

"I'm still mad about how good this is," Seo-yeon said, jabbing her chopsticks into another glazed piece of meat. "I feel like you should bottle that glaze and sell it."

"Maybe in my next life," Joon-won said, leaning back, wrist draped over the back of his chair. "Cooking's a hobby. Not sure I'd survive doing it for strangers."

"Hm. That's fair," Ha-eun added, reaching for more salad. "You'd probably end up fighting someone who dared to say it's too salty."

"Someone's going to tell me how to cook my bulgogi in my own kitchen?" he said, mock insulted.

Everyone laughed.

Seo-yeon took a sip of juice and glanced toward Tae-hyun. "What about you? You never talk about your hobbies anymore."

Tae-hyun paused mid-chew, blinked, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Hobbies?" he echoed.

"Yeah," Ha-eun said. "You're a bit of a mystery. You work, you dad, you… exist quietly. What do you do for fun?"

Seo-yeon answered before he could. "He's going to dodge this, but he used to paint."

Ha-eun perked up. "Wait—paint like, houses? Or paint like…?"

"Like canvases," Seo-yeon said with a grin. "He used to carry one bigger than him across campus. Oils, acrylics. The whole thing."

Tae-hyun rolled his eyes but didn't deny it.

"I haven't touched a brush in years," he said softly, setting his glass down. "Not since college, really."

"Why not?" Ha-eun asked.

He hesitated. "Time. Life. You know how it goes."

"You were really good," Seo-yeon said, nudging his knee under the table. "You should show them that photo. The one from the art competition. You were in the paper."

"That was forever ago," he muttered.

"So? Show it."

Tae-hyun sighed and pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found it — a photo of him younger, a little messier, standing beside a massive, bold-toned canvas, expression focused and proud. He slid it across the table.

Ha-eun gasped. "That's you? Oh my God, this looks like a gallery piece."

Joon-won had leaned in before Tae-hyun could slide the screen away. His brows drew together slightly, mouth parting just a bit as he stared.

"You painted this?" he asked, quiet but deliberate.

Tae-hyun nodded slowly.

"What was it for?"

"Senior thesis. I was obsessed with color theory back then. It's abstract, but… rooted in memory."

Joon-won's eyes didn't leave the image. "You used palette knives?"

Tae-hyun heart skipped a beat at that question and he couldn't help but smile softly and nod. "Mostly. Some brushes. I used to layer textures until the canvas looked like it could breathe."

Joon-won looked up then gaze slow, lingering and Tae-hyun felt the shift in the air. Like something intimate had been accidentally exposed.

"That's… very impressive," Joon-won said, voice low. "You still have it?"

"The canvas? It's in storage somewhere."

"You should hang it. Somewhere visible."

Seo-yeon smiled. "I've said that too. He shrugs it off every time."

"Maybe I'll dust off a brush someday," Tae-hyun said, half-joking.

"I think you should," Joon-won replied, and this time there was no teasing in his voice — only something quieter. More sincere. "Feels like a waste not to."

Tae-hyun looked away, but not before catching the way Joon-won's fingers tapped the rim of his glass, rhythm steady and slow, like he was thinking too hard about something he wouldn't say out loud.

And in the background, their wives kept chatting, oblivious to the current running between them, electric but buried, always buried.

.

.

.

They lounged after dinner in a satisfied sprawl, legs tangled over throw pillows and hands wrapped around warm mugs. No alcohol this time just like Joon-won had said, just soft tea, orange slices, and laughter.

The group had fallen into easy teasing.

Ha-eun mocked Joon-Won for being "too polite" when serving everyone. Seo-yeon snuck spoonfuls of dessert from her son's plate and got caught. Tae-hyun looked comfortable, barefoot, hoodie draped over his shoulders, face flushed slightly from the warmth.

Then Ha-eun, maybe on a nostalgia trip, she padded over to the low cabinet near the TV and crouched down, flipping through a few neatly labeled boxes.

"I've been meaning to reorganize these," she muttered. "But since we're all here…"

"Oh no," Joon-won said from the couch, already groaning with a hand on his face. "Ha-eun."

She pulled out a thick album and turned around with a wicked grin. "If Tae-hyun gets to be publicly exposed as a secret artist, then you can suffer a little too."

"Expose away," Seo-yeon said, curling her legs beneath her.

Joon-won glanced at Tae-hyun, who raised an eyebrow. "You worried or embarrassed?"

"Worried and embarrassed," he muttered with another groan.

Ha-eun plopped down beside him and opened the first page, angling the album so everyone could see. It started innocently enough, high school graduation, messy uniforms, group photos.

Then it turned and everyone's eyes widen aside from Tae-hyun who was still staring at the guy before him with a playful grin at his response.

"Oh my God," Seo-yeon gasped. "Wait. Who is that?"

That caught his attention right away, Tae-hyun leaned in before he even realized he had. There, stretched across the page, were photos of a much younger Joon-won, maybe twenty or twenty-one with his hair longer, tied back in a messy half-bun that let a few thick strands fall around his face. A cigarette dangled from his lips in one photo, and in another he sat on the back of a motorcycle, one leg kicked out, smirking at the camera. His black tee rode up just enough to reveal the hard cut of his stomach, abs visible even under dim lighting.

He looked like trouble.

And he knew it.

"What the.. You had long hair?" Tae-hyun asked before he could stop himself, his voice low and in disbelief.

Joon-won leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the page. "Yeah. Didn't cut it until I was twenty-three. My rebellion arc."

"Rebellion?" Tae-hyun echoed.

"Parties. Bikes. Fights. The whole tragic cliché," he said, almost bored. "I was an idiot."

"But a hot idiot," Ha-eun chimed in. "He had his own little fan club."

Another page revealed a photo of him, shirtless, standing beside a battered Yamaha. A large bruise bloomed across his ribs, and dried blood ran from his knuckle. Still, he was smiling casually, carelessly, like he didn't even feel it.

"That's from the time he got jumped outside a club," Ha-eun explained. "Didn't even tell me until the next day."

"You smiled through that?" Seo-yeon asked, horrified.

"Wasn't that bad," Joon-won replied, flipping to the next page. "Most of the blood wasn't even mine."

Tae-hyun blinked, then stared at the picture again. Hard.

His gaze moved from the bruises to the relaxed way Joon-won held himself even in pain, like he was used to surviving things in silence. That unbothered smile, the quiet, steady masculinity and it wasn't the kind of bravado men tried to perform. It was lived-in. Real.

Another photo showed him sitting cross-legged on a rooftop at sunset, cigarette between two fingers, hair blowing sideways in the wind, with one hand propped under his jaw. Stud earrings shimmered in both ears.

"You fucking had piercings?" Tae-hyun said, before the question could get filtered out. He looked at him with parted lips and furrowed browns.

Joon-won glanced at him and chuckled slightly at his reaction. "Still do. Just don't wear anything anymore."

Instinctively, Tae-hyun's gaze drifted to his ears and there they were. Two tiny, faint piercings, just barely visible beneath the short layers of ash-blond hair.

He looked away too late then Tae-hyun tilted his head and hummed out as if trying to calm himself down. "Hn?"

Joon-won's lips twitched, almost a smile, but there was something else there too, a flicker of heat behind the composed front, a subtle spark only visible if you were paying close enough attention.

Which Tae-hyun was.

"I think you looked like a menace," he added, lifting his glass of juice.

"Not wrong," Ha-eun chimed in again, oblivious. "I had to threaten to break up with him at least three times just to get him to quit chain-smoking."

Seo-yeon laughed. "You let him ride motorcycles?"

"Let?" Ha-eun scoffed. "I didn't even know he had one until I caught him polishing it in the middle of a fight."

"I sold it when we got engaged," Joon-won said, casually.

Tae-hyun blinked. "Why?"

Joon-won didn't look at him this time, just stared at the photo of himself, shirtless and reckless, bruises fading under a sunset sky.

"Didn't want to die before I learned how to stay still."

The words hung for a second, quiet but heavy.

Ha-eun closed the album halfway through. "Anyway, that's enough chaos for one night."

"You should wear earrings again," Seo-yeon said suddenly. "I think it'd still suit you."

"He should," Tae-hyun added, almost too quickly.

Joon-won tilted his head, eyes flicking back to Tae-hyun, slow and lingering. "You volunteering to pick them out for me?"

Tae-hyun smirked and nodded slowly as he pulled his sleeves down more covering his hands completely and leaning back against the couch with his eyes glued onto Joon's. "Sure. Might even put them in myself."

The tension laced itself beneath the laughter, a current moving under skin, under language, under the steady sound of the wives still flipping through the album.

And for a moment, Joon-won didn't move just watched Tae-hyun, eyes dark and amused, fingers drumming lazily against the cushion like he was imagining the weight of something else entirely.

.

.

.

Just as Ha-eun flipped another page, both children's voices suddenly rang out from the back room, overlapping.

"Mommy!"

"Eommaaa!"

Both women sat up straight in sync.

"Oh God," Seo-yeon said, already moving. "If they're screaming like that, something's either broken or flooded."

"I'll come—" Joon-Won started, but Ha-eun waved a hand.

"No, no. Stay. It's probably nothing. Just toothbrush wars again."

"We'll be back in a bit," Seo-yeon added, already padding off with her glass in hand. "Don't start anything scandalous while we're gone."

Tae-hyun raised his brows. "Too late."

The women disappeared down the hallway, their footsteps soft, fading behind the hum of distant cartoons. The house quieted again, heavy with food and warmth and something slower, more electric.

Tae-hyun glanced back at the album still open in Joon-Won's lap, one knee bent up, the other stretched lazily across the couch. That long body looked too casual for someone who used to get in fights outside nightclubs.

"You really were a menace," Tae-hyun muttered, shifting on the rug in front of the coffee table. "Like. Really."

Joon-Won leaned back against the cushions, arm draped across the back of the couch. "I told you."

"I didn't think you meant this kind of menace."

There was a beat of silence. Then Tae-hyun, very deliberately, got onto his hands and knees and crawled the short distance from the floor to the couch like it was the most natural way to move in a house he didn't own. He stopped beside Joon-Won's knee and reached up to flip a page in the album, eyes bright and voice a little too interested.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing at a photo of Joon-Won leaned up against a club wall, head tilted back, a girl's arm slung over his shoulder.

Joon-Won let out a low chuckle. "A mistake."

"You've had a lot of those, huh?"

"Mm." He reached forward and turned to the next photo, one of him with a group of guys, everyone holding bottles and shouting. "That entire semester was a blackout blur. I think I only passed finals out of spite."

Tae-hyun glanced up at him again, still crouched beside him like a cat that had chosen its favorite human. "You looked happier back then."

Joon-Won tilted his head, surprised. "You think so?"

"I mean…" Tae-hyun traced the edge of the page with one finger. "You were smiling like someone who didn't give a shit about anything."

Joon-Won hummed. "That wasn't happiness."

"What was it?"

"Deflection."

Tae-hyun went quiet for a second, gaze flicking to another photo, one where Joon-Won sat shirtless on a rooftop, bruises visible on one side of his ribs, cigarette ash falling onto his jeans.

"You look too good in pain," Tae-hyun mumbled, almost to himself.

Joon-Won raised a brow and glanced at him with a glint of interest in his eyes. "You like that?"

Tae-hyun reached up suddenly, brushing a finger against Joon-Won's earlobe, warm and unpierced but the holes were still there, faint but present.

"You really do still have them," Tae-hyun mumbled softly.

Joon-Won stilled at the sudden touch before relaxing..

"I wasn't lying," he said, voice quieter now.

Tae-hyun pulled back slightly but kept close, chin tilted up. "If you had long hair now, still wore studs, and rode a motorcycle…"

"What?" Joon-Won asked, smiling faintly.

Tae-hyun let out a soft, teasing breath. "I'd probably have opened my legs on your kitchen counter in front of your rice cooker."

Joon-Won laughed, low and surprised, his head tipping back against the couch, brows lifted in genuine disbelief. When he looked at Tae-hyun again, there was warmth in his eyes that hadn't been there earlier, not lust, not smugness. Something softer. Fond amusement, affection laced with heat.

"You're insane."

"You were hotter than you had any right to be," Tae-hyun muttered.

Joon-Won nodded slowly. "And now?"

Tae-hyun grinned. "Still dangerously hot. Just… refined. Less cigarette, more cologne."

"I'd take that as a compliment if it weren't coming from someone crawling across my floor like a little kitten."

Tae-hyun sat up straighter beside him, crossing his legs, arms folded. "I came over to interrogate you. You're too good at dodging."

Joon-Won glanced at him sideways. "You really want answers?"

"Yes."

"Alright." He leaned in slightly, voice lowered. "What do you want to know? Which girls I dated? How many fights I picked? How fast I used to drive?"

Tae-hyun didn't look away. "All of it."

Joon-Won's eyes narrowed and a slight smirk. "You're acting like you're dating me."

Tae-hyun tilted his head acting all innocent and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Maybe I am. You just don't know it yet."

That earned another quiet laugh. Joon-Won leaned back again, stretching his arm behind Tae-hyun this time, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warmth.

"I had three girlfriends in college," he said. "One for the attention. One for the sex. One because I thought it might fix me."

"Did it?"

"Nope."

Tae-hyun nodded. "Sounds about right."

Joon-Won smiled again. "And what about you, artist boy? Ever get photographed bleeding and smirking?"

"No, but I did win a statewide painting competition the same week I got dumped, so."

"Sexy," Joon-Won said, deadpan.

Tae-hyun glanced down at another photo of Joon-Won, this one more candid, him laughing off to the side, head turned mid-laugh, cigarette smoke curling beside his ear. And for a moment, Tae-hyun just stared, quiet and still.

"You really don't smile like that anymore."

Joon-Won looked down at the photo, then at him. "Maybe I haven't had a reason to."

Their eyes locked… quiet, close, breathing the same breath between words.

"Maybe you do now," Tae-hyun said softly under his breath. It's like it was his own thoughts that rolled out of his mouth on accident.

Joon-Won didn't reply. But the corner of his mouth tugged up… slowly, subtly and stayed there. 

The moment stretched between them, thick with something unspoken and electric. Tae-hyun, perched stubbornly beside Joon-Won like a cat refusing to leave the warmth, flicked another page and fixed him with a serious look.

"So. You ever think about putting those earrings back in? You still have the piercings, right?"

Joon-Won's lips twitched in amusement. "Why? Planning to stare at my lobes all night?"

Tae-hyun didn't back down. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, brows furrowed but lips pouted in a way that made his heart beat faster even as his brain screamed, Don't get cute now.

"Maybe I am. You were quite the sight back then. If you showed up like that now…" He let the sentence hang, daring and teasing.

Joon-Won cocked an eyebrow, smirk widening. "You mean if I rocked long hair, earrings, and the whole bad-boy mess again? You'd be totally helpless, huh?"

Tae-hyun rolled his eyes, trying to sound unimpressed, but the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed him. "I'm just curious. And maybe a little demanding."

"Oh? And how demanding are we talking?"

Tae-hyun, now dangerously close, close enough for Joon-Won to catch the faint scent of his cologne, he put his hand lightly on Joon-Won's wrist, pinky extended.

"Pinkie promise me," he said, voice soft but firm, "next time we meet, you wear those earrings. No excuses."

Joon-Won stared at the hand, then back at the pouty, stubborn face inches from his own. The teasing glint in his eyes deepened.

"And if I don't?"

Tae-hyun shrugged with a faux nonchalance that was anything but. "Then you owe me a rematch at that shooting range."

Joon-Won laughed, low and amused by Tae-hyun cuteness and all, and without hesitation, hooked his pinky around Tae-hyun's.

"Deal."

Tae-hyun smiled triumphantly but flushed again, quickly pulling his hand back like he wasn't utterly thrilled about the little contact between them.

"See? You're acting like you like me already."

"Cute," Joon-Won said, shaking his head but with genuine warmth. "Keep talking like that, and I might actually start believing it."

Tae-hyun gave him a pointed look.

"Don't push your luck."

Joon-Won's smirk turned softer, almost fond. "Too late."

They both laughed, but the air between them was charged… playful, intimate, full of promises neither said out.

Just as Tae-hyun was about to dig into another story about the chaos of one of Joon-Won's wild college parties, the sound of footsteps approached from the hallway.

Ha-eun popped her head into the room, holding up a soft blanket they'd left tossed on the living room sofa. Her eyes flicked between the two men hunched over the album.

"Well, aren't you two getting cozy without the wives?" she teased with a sly smile, dropping the blanket over their laps. "Enjoying the past all alone?"

Tae-hyun flushed but quickly straightened. Joon-Won just smirked and leaned back, draping the blanket over his shoulders like a king reclaiming his throne.

"Don't let us interrupt your mommy duties," Joon-Won said lightly.

Ha-eun winked at them both before jogging off down the hall, calling out, "The kids and Seo-Yeon need me! Try not to turn into total sap, alright?"

Their laughter faded with her footsteps, leaving a warm hush around the two men again.

Tae-hyun shifted closer, and his knee brushed against Joon-Won's. It was subtle but deliberate, a small reminder of the shift between them since that night in the apartment where they showered and drank tea, where everything had shifted.

Joon-Won caught the movement and tilted his head, eyes narrowing with that slow smile Tae-hyun was learning to recognize as 'I know exactly what you're doing.'

"Comfortable, are we?" Joon-Won murmured.

"Tolerable," Tae-hyun teased back, but the way his fingers rested lightly on Joon-Won's wrist said otherwise.

They lapsed into silence for a beat, the quiet punctuated only by the faint hum of the city outside the window.

Tae-hyun's voice cut through softly, "Hey… what if we meet at your apartment tomorrow? I mean, if you're not busy."

Joon-Won's eyes flicked up, surprised, but he masked it well with a raised brow.

"What about the wives?"

Tae-hyun shrugged, voice casual, but there was a hidden weight in it. "We already made the plan. I think… they won't care anymore. Not like before."

The unspoken truth hung between them, thick and promising.

Joon-Won leaned back on his palms, the blanket slipping from one shoulder. His sweatpants rode low on his hips, the soft white tank clinging to his chest in the warm living room light, but Tae-hyun wasn't just looking at that anymore. He was watching his face.

"Sounds like a date," Joon-Won said, lips curling around the words with that usual half-smirk.

Tae-hyun gave a breath of a laugh, looking down as he picked at a corner of the blanket with a huff, his ears turning slightly red. "What, are you asking me out now?"

Joon-Won's smile didn't waver. But his voice lowered, softer, honest. "And if I was?"

The question hung between them like static.

Tae-hyun blinked, finally looking up.. really looking into his eyes as if searching for answers. "You mean, like… a real one?"

Joon-Won nodded slowly. "What if it was? Would you still come?"

There was a beat of silence.

No flirting. No bravado.

Just the quiet, tentative truth between them, the realization that maybe it wasn't just the tension or the teasing. Maybe it wasn't just the sex.

Maybe he wanted to sit across from Tae-hyun over a real meal. Watch him talk about art or childhood stories. Watch him drink tea again in an oversized hoodie and roll his eyes without meaning it. Laugh and pretend he didn't care. Maybe he wanted all of that, just with him.

Tae-hyun swallowed, then gave a small, lopsided smile. "Yeah. I'd still come."

His voice was steady, but his heart wasn't.

Joon-Won didn't look away but his heart dropped in excitement he didn't dare show. Although his eyes softening up at Tae-hyun answer betrayed his face expression. "Then maybe it is a date."

Tae-hyun let out a quiet, almost shy breath of a laugh and looked away immediately, his face burning with shyness at the sudden shift of conversation but he didn't mind it. "You better wear those earrings then..."

Joon-Won smirked and reached out to softly run a finger down the side of his neck. "And you better wear that hoodie again."

And suddenly the space between them felt warmer, not from the blanket or their close bodies, but from the strange new thing rising quietly in their chests.

Something dangerously close to want.

Real want.