Kiss Me Like You’re Not Married.

The photo album was still lying open on the rug, half-forgotten, when the wives returned, each with a child curled in her arms. The room shifted into quiet motion, filled with soft footsteps, hushed voices, and the rustling of blankets. Their boys were completely knocked out, cheeks flushed from playing too hard, little arms wrapped tightly around their mothers' necks.

Seo-yeon gave Tae-hyun a glance over the shoulder, voice hushed but decisive. "Let's go, babe. He's heavy."

"Coming," Tae-hyun murmured, standing slowly, but not before catching Joon-Won's eyes one last time as he folded the edge of the blanket they'd shared.

As the group moved toward the door, shoes quietly slid back on and jackets gathered, Joon-Won cleared his throat and called out with an easy lilt, "Oh, Tae-hyun.. don't forget. I'm stealing you tomorrow night."

Tae-hyun turned, blinking.

"For what?" Seo-yeon asked, arching a brow.

Joon-Won stepped forward, one hand on his hip, the other resting casually against the doorframe. "Thought we'd hit the courts again, or go somewhere, do something dumb and competitive. Haven't had a proper guy night since last time."

"God, please. Yes," Ha-eun said before anyone else could. "Take him. Both of you. Burn off some of that mutual tension. I mean… energy."

Seo-yeon laughed and nodded. "Have him back in one piece."

Tae-hyun could only chuckle, his voice low and a little hoarse. "No promises."

But when he glanced at Joon-Won again, saw the faint, knowing lift of his brows, his smirk faltered into something softer. Shy, even. Because they both knew: this wasn't going to be a game night.

It was a date.

And for once, that thought didn't make Tae-hyun panic. It made his chest feel warm.

⸻

That night, sometime after midnight, Tae-hyun padded quietly into the living room in his socks and sat on the edge of the couch, phone already in hand. He hadn't received a text all evening, not until now.

Joon-Won:

"Tae-hyun.."

No follow-up.

Just his name.

The screen buzzed in his palm not long after, and he quickly answered, keeping his voice low as he tucked the phone against his ear. "Yeah?"

The line was quiet for a second, then Joon-Won's voice filled it, low and already teasing. "Thought I'd remind you tomorrow isn't a joke."

Tae-hyun smirked, leaning back. "I figured. You're calling me past midnight like we're sixteen and in love."

"I'm calling you because I can't sleep and I know you're up too," Joon-Won said. "Also because I have instructions."

"Oh, this again."

"Wear the hoodie," Joon-Won said smoothly. "And the gray sweats… you know the ones I mean.. the same ones you wore today."

Tae-hyun scoffed under his breath. "What, so we can match?"

"Exactly. I'll be in mine."

There was a pause on Tae-hyun's end, the kind that gave just a little too much away. "You're serious."

"I am," Joon-Won said. His voice dropped a little, lower and slower now. "It's a date, Tae-hyun."

Tae-hyun's throat tightened around the soft inhale he didn't mean to let out.

"And… you're really calling it that?" he asked.

"Wouldn't be asking if I wasn't serious."

Tae-hyun stared at the shadows on the ceiling. It was stupid how fast his pulse picked up over a conversation they were having while both still wore their wedding rings. But it felt different. The weight of Joon-Won's voice, the steadiness of it, it wasn't just a hook-up this time.

"What are we doing?" he asked, voice rough.

Joon-Won didn't answer right away. "It's a surprise."

"You're gonna show up in sweats for a surprise date?"

"Better than showing up overdressed," Joon-Won replied with a pleased hum. "You'll like it. I promise."

Tae-hyun leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. His voice dropped just above a whisper. "I already like it."

Joon-Won didn't respond for a moment.. then, with a soft, almost amused breath he spoke softly into the mic. "Don't say that unless you mean it."

"I mean it," Tae-hyun said.

Silence stretched again, heavier this time. Not awkward. Just full of everything neither of them wanted to say too fast.

"Be ready by seven," Joon-Won said at last, voice more grounded now. "And don't be late."

Tae-hyun smiled to himself. "I won't."

.

.

.

The morning was soft and gray, the sky outside still pale with early sun when Tae-hyun stirred beneath the covers. His wife's hand was already warm against his chest, her arm looped lazily across his body in a rare moment of unhurried affection. Their son had somehow snuck into the bed again sometime after dawn, now curled up by their legs, half-lost under the blanket with only a tuft of hair showing.

Tae-hyun didn't move yet.

He blinked at the ceiling for a moment, letting the memory of the previous night flood him in pieces, the warmth of the living room, the album spread open, the way Joon-Won had looked leaning back with one arm stretched behind him, those little silver studs in his ears that Tae-hyun now wanted to see again today.

Today.

He smiled faintly, then shifted.

"I'm taking the day off," he murmured into the quiet, voice thick with sleep.

Seo-yeon yawned and stretched beside him. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Gonna hang out with Joon, you forgot babe?."

She blinked, but smiled into her pillow. "Oh yeah! That sounds nice. You guys looked like you were twelve again last night, hunched over that album."

He gave her a crooked smirk. "He was worse."

"No, seriously — I liked it. I don't think I've seen you laugh like that in weeks. He's different than I expected."

"In a good way?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I thought he'd be more stiff, but he's got this… odd charm. I get why Ha-eun married him. He clearly adores her."

Tae-hyun's face shifted, something flickering behind his eyes.

Seo-yeon pushed herself up on one elbow and smiled sleepily. "Also, I still can't get over that food. That glaze? Like, excuse me. That man cooks with vengeance."

Tae-hyun laughed. "He was showing off."

"I like when guys show off like that," she teased.

"Do you now?" he said, flicking her thigh under the blanket before slipping out of bed, careful not to wake their son.

"Don't forget to text me if you're staying out late," she said as he pulled on his robe.

"I won't," he said, voice already distant as he wandered into the hallway, his mind running a few hours ahead.

⸻

By the time Tae-hyun had showered and changed, he stood in front of the mirror adjusting the hem of his hoodie for the third time, the same one Joon-Won had mentioned from the night before. Slate blue. Worn at the cuffs. Familiar. His matching gray sweats clung a little more than he remembered, and he debated changing, but didn't.

His phone buzzed just as he was tousling his hair.

Joon-Won:

'Just come straight to me. I'll send the location. It's easier.. see you soon.'

A second later, the pin dropped in the chat. The apartment.

Tae-hyun's fingers hovered above the reply, hesitating. He hadn't been back there since that night. The night that left a bruise on his wrist and a mark somewhere deeper he hadn't quite admitted out loud.

Tae-hyun:

'On my way..'

He glanced at himself once more in the mirror before grabbing his keys.

⸻

Meanwhile, Joon-Won had left his own home earlier that morning, far too earlier than necessary, if he were honest.

He told Ha-eun he'd stop by the store, maybe take the day off and relax. She had nodded sleepily from where she knelt with their son at the coffee table, stacking colored blocks and humming under her breath.

"You okay?" she asked softly, not looking up.

"Yeah," he said. "Just feel like cooking something."

"Again?"

"Different kind of cooking."

She was too sleepy to realize he said cooking, not even asking where he'd cook when he had said he'll be meeting Tae-hun, He kissed the top of their son's head and left with a grocery bag, a plan, and something else folded deep in his jacket pocket.

He had stopped at two places, a small art supply shop tucked behind a bookstore, and then the market. He bought fresh burger buns, good meat, cheddar slices, a head of lettuce, ripe tomatoes, sauces, and a little jar of pickles that he knew, for some reason, Tae-hyun would comment on.

The gift was simpler: a flat canvas, untouched and pale. New brushes. A clean set of paints. The box was tied loosely with black twine, casual but neat. Joon-Won had shoved it into the coat closet of the apartment before unpacking the groceries.

Now, back at the stove, he moved without rush, hair a little messy, sleeves pushed up, and those same damn gray sweats and hoodie he had told Tae-hyun to wear. The studs in his ears glinted faintly in the soft afternoon light pouring through the kitchen window.

He stirred a sauce, flipped the patties in the pan, and opened a bottle of soda to breathe for a while before Tae-hyun arrived.

There wasn't music playing.

Just the sizzle of oil, the slow hum of quiet anticipation.

The hallway outside the apartment felt quieter than Tae-hyun remembered. Maybe it was just the time of day, or maybe it was the fact that he knew.. really knew.. what today was.

It really was a date.

He tried not to let the word get too loud in his head but the thought made him nervous yet excited.

The slate blue hoodie hung comfortably on his frame, sleeves covering his wrists, just slightly oversized. His hair was a little messier than usual, intentionally undone. He'd even gone without cologne this time, the scent he was wearing was light, barely there, more like fresh laundry than anything seductive.

Still, his palms felt warm.

He adjusted the strap of his crossbody bag and lifted his hand to ring the bell.

The door swung open sooner than expected and there was Joon-Won.

Same hoodie. Gray sweats. That soft static in the air from being too in sync. His hair was left just slightly tousled, a clean part breaking its usual slicked-back routine, and… yes. The silver studs glinted subtly against the curve of his ears, catching the apartment light like a quiet answer to a request.

Tae-hyun barely blinked before he was pulled in a smooth one-armed hug hooked loosely around his shoulder as Joon-Won leaned in to kiss him. Soft, slow, just a brush of lips and warmth, his palm resting flat on Tae-hyun's back, grounding him.

"Hey," Joon murmured, voice lower than usual, like they were already somewhere familiar.

Tae-hyun let out the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. "Hey."

Joon's hand lingered for half a second longer than necessary before he let go, gesturing for him to come inside. "Shoes off. You know the rules."

"I live to obey," Tae deadpanned, but his voice cracked slightly with something close to laughter.

Joon chuckled, walking backward toward the kitchen, the smell of seasoned meat and toasted bread already making the apartment feel… less like a rendezvous and more like a home. "I'm almost done. Sit wherever."

Tae-hyun stepped in, eyes drifting across the room, the hoodie on Joon, the faintest sizzle from the stove, a glass of juice already poured on the counter for him.

But something about the ease in Joon's shoulders, the unbothered affection in how he moved, made everything feel new.

Not just secret.

Something realer.

Tae wandered in a few steps. He reached the kitchen island where the juice sat, picked it up in one hand but didn't sip.

Instead, his other hand fidgeted absently with the ring on his finger.

Joon didn't speak, but when Tae glanced up, their eyes locked.

He was watching.

So he did it.. slow, like he wanted him to see. His fingers curled around the band and slipped it free. He didn't explain it. Didn't make a big show. He just placed it carefully, deliberately, at the far end of the counter.

Out of reach. Out of frame.

Joon-Won's gaze flicked from the ring to his eyes.. something unreadable in the way his mouth lifted slightly, not quite a smirk.

"Nice of you to settle in," Joon said lightly, flipping a patty in the pan.

"I figured I'd make myself comfortable. You did say to wear the hoodie."

"And you listened," Joon said, sending him a brief glance. "Cute."

Tae scoffed and dropped onto the barstool, finally taking a sip of juice. "Don't call me cute while I'm ringless in your apartment. That's illegal."

"You're in gray sweats and a hoodie that hangs past your ass. What am I supposed to call you? Dangerous?"

"I could be dangerous."

Joon shot him a look over his shoulder, raising one brow slowly. "You're not."

Tae grinned but it was smaller, softer now. There was a blush trying to rise in his cheeks, not from embarrassment but from heat. That same warmth that crawled up your spine when someone remembered what you liked. Wore something for you. Cooked for you. Made a space feel like it was for just the two of you.

"Oh," Tae-hyun said suddenly, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward over the counter, elbows planted. "You're wearing them."

Joon didn't have to ask what.

He reached up without thinking and brushed his thumb along the edge of his left earlobe, just enough to feel the stud, like confirmation.

"You said you wanted to see them."

"I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Joon turned his head, just enough to show the other one. "I said I would."

The tension wasn't loud, it was something threaded in the air now. That quiet kind that made breathing feel deeper. Softer.

Tae-hyun stared for a moment longer before letting his head fall into one hand.

"This is… weirdly domestic," he muttered.

"I told you it would be casual."

"Casual my ass. You made juice. You're wearing earrings. This is a whole damn emotional ambush."

Joon just laughed under his breath, flipping the burgers again. "Then you're not ready for the surprise."

"What surprise?"

"You'll see."

Tae grumbled into his juice, hiding a smile. "You're gonna make me feel something, aren't you?"

Joon turned to look at him again, this time slower.

"Maybe," he said. "Is that so bad?"

And Tae didn't answer. Not really.

He just stayed there, hoodie sleeves tucked around his fingers, watching him cook like it was the first time he'd ever seen Joon-Won with the light in his hair and something warm in his hands.

Something real between them. Something more.

The sizzle of the pan mellowed into quiet as Joon-Won lowered the flame, lifting the golden buns and setting them aside. He moved with a calm rhythm, wiping his hands on a cloth, then reaching for a small plate of fresh lettuce and tomatoes.

Tae-hyun hadn't stopped watching.

He sat half-leaned on the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the edge, hands curled around the juice glass. His chin dipped lazily into one hand, his eyes tracing Joon's every motion, the casual turn of his wrist as he stacked the patties, the relaxed stretch of his back when he reached up to grab two white plates from the cabinet.

"You look like you've done this a thousand times," Tae said, voice light, but there was something soft underneath. Admiration maybe. Or something more dangerous than that.

Joon glanced over at him, a faint smile curving his lips.

"I have," he replied. "Not a thousand, but close."

"Do you actually like cooking?" Tae tilted his head.

"I do," Joon answered without hesitation, his hands moving to drizzle some sauce over the buns. "Always have. Ha-eun used to laugh when we started dating. She thought I was just showing off. But it's kind of the only thing that makes me feel… still. You know?"

Tae-hyun didn't know, not in his own body but he understood. He could see it.

There was something peaceful about watching Joon-Won move like this. Hoodie sleeves pushed to his forearms, studs catching the light, his movements slow and practiced. He wasn't cooking for attention. He wasn't rushing. He was just in it, and it showed.

"You look happy," Tae murmured.

Joon paused mid-plate, then looked up. His expression shifted, like something warmer bloomed behind his eyes.

"I am," he admitted. "Weird, huh?"

"No," Tae said softly. "It suits you."

A flicker passed between them, quiet and charged.

Tae-hyun blinked it away and sat up straighter, refocusing like he remembered something.

"Okay, wait. You're not off the hook."

Joon raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"The surprise. You said there's a surprise and now you're acting like that never happened."

"I'm just cooking."

"Liar," Tae accused, narrowing his eyes. "You knew saying the word 'surprise' would mess with me. You wanted me to be curious."

"I did," Joon admitted with a smirk. "And it's working."

"You can't just—" Tae dropped his head back with a groan, kicking his legs lightly where they dangled from the stool. "You can't say there's a surprise and then not tell me. I hate that."

"Too bad."

"No," Tae whined dramatically, throwing his head forward again and sliding off the stool. "No, I'm not sitting here in mystery."

Joon's brows lifted in surprise as Tae approached the other side of the counter, circling toward him like a storm cloud on legs. He walked right up next to him, folding his arms and pouting like a child being denied candy.

"I swear if you don't tell me, I'll just— I'll leave," he huffed, only half-meaning it.

"You won't."

"I might."

"You're not wearing your ring. You're not going anywhere."

Tae flushed instantly, stumbling over his own comeback. "That's not—"

"Uh-huh."

"I hate you."

Joon grinned and gently slid a plate across the counter toward him. The burger was perfectly stacked, the bun glossy, the smell absolutely unfair. "Eat first. Then we talk."

Tae glared at him for a second longer before his eyes dropped to the plate.

Then he blinked. "Wait. Is that caramelized onion?"

"Yes."

"Did you toast the bun?"

"Yes."

Tae looked from the burger to Joon, then back again. "…This is evil."

"It's love," Joon said with a straight face, pulling a second plate toward himself and sitting beside him at the counter.

Tae rolled his eyes, but he was already lifting the burger, examining it from every angle like it was a piece of art.

"This looks really good," he admitted, voice quieter now. "Like, actually."

"Try it."

He did.

The first bite melted into something warm and savory, the perfect balance of textures, the crunch of the lettuce, the softness of the bun, the rich flavor of the patty and tangy sauce all working in harmony.

Tae's eyes went wide.

Joon watched the exact second it hit him.

"You asshole," Tae said around a mouthful, muffled. "This is amazing."

Joon burst out laughing, biting into his own burger. "I'm glad you think so."

"No like, seriously. If I was a woman I would've married you just for this. Screw the muscles."

Joon raised an eyebrow. "Only if you were a woman?"

Tae paused mid-bite, then glanced at him sideways with a playful huff with a mouthful.

"I mean, I'd consider it now. With this burger in the picture."

There was a beat. Joon let the line hang there, swallowed his bite slowly, then met Tae's gaze, soft and amused.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Tae looked away quickly, cheeks warming again, but he didn't stop smiling.

They kept eating in between teasing, casual chatter, leaning in closer and closer each time they joked. Their knees bumped once. Neither of them moved. Joon finished his burger slower than Tae, pausing often to talk, to listen… especially when Tae started rambling about how he used to go to this tiny burger stand near his college with friends during all-nighters, the place that sparked his obsession with fried eggs on burgers, the laughter in his voice growing with every bite.

It felt light. Familiar. Almost too natural.

Like they'd done this before.

Like this wasn't a first.

But every now and then, the weight of it crept in. The glint of Tae's ring on the counter. The way Joon's knee hadn't moved from against his. The earrings.

Everything was soft and slow, but it buzzed beneath the surface.

And Tae-hyun still hadn't forgotten.

He swallowed his last bite, wiping his fingers on a napkin, eyes darting sideways again.

"So… now that I've been bribed by the best burger I've ever had," he said carefully, tilting his head, "can I get a hint about this surprise?"

Joon leaned back a little on his stool, arms folded loosely. He gave him a long look — head slightly tilted, mouth twitching like he was considering.

Then he said, "Finish your juice."

"I did."

"Then wait."

Tae pouted. "You enjoy watching me suffer."

"I enjoy watching you pout."

Tae narrowed his eyes, then leaned forward, elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he stared at him from too close. "You're annoying."

"You're the one who showed up looking like that," Joon replied, eyes flicking over his hoodie, his hair, his lips.

Tae bit his cheek, trying to hide the grin but it showed in his eyes anyway.

And he whispered, "…Still annoying."

His eyes kept flitting to Joon-Won, who was taking his time licking sauce from his thumb and sipping slowly from his glass of water like he wasn't actively torturing Tae.

Tae-hyun narrowed his eyes, leaning his elbow on the counter, head resting against his palm. He sighed dramatically.

"Okay. We ate. I praised your god-tier burger skills. I pouted. I even whined. What's next? Do I need to beg?"

Joon glanced at him, one brow lifting. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached for his left hand.

Tae blinked when he noticed what he was doing.

The wedding ring.

Without saying a word, Joon slipped it off his finger as well. It made a faint little sound against the counter as he placed it gently next to Tae-hyun's.

Right beside it. Side by side.

Tae swallowed.

The air shifted.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't announced. But the silence that followed was thick with understanding, unspoken but mutual. They were in this space again, deliberately, choosing it.

And it made Tae's heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with the warmth in his chest.

Joon turned to him and nudged his arm with a playful smile.

"Sit down. Stay here. I'm going to get something."

Tae's eyes lit up instantly. "Is it the surprise?!"

"Maybe."

"You're the worst," he said, hopping off the stool but not moving away. "Do I really have to stay put?"

Joon laughed, brushing past him toward the hallway. "Yes. Be patient."

"I can't!" Tae nearly whined again, reaching like he might follow him. "I want to know now."

Joon turned halfway in the hallway, grinning like he'd already expected this exact reaction.

"You're acting like a kid on Christmas."

"I am!"

Their shared laugh echoed warmly off the kitchen walls, light, natural, theirs and Joon shook his head as he disappeared into the spare room.

Tae-hyun stood there, fidgeting excitedly with the hem of his hoodie, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He glanced at their rings on the counter. His lips pressed together, but there was no guilt in his eyes, just a slow-growing sense of something realer than he'd prepared for.

A minute later, Joon returned with a medium-sized, rectangular box in hand, wrapped lazily in brown craft paper with one black ribbon tied around it.

He walked back up and set it down in front of Tae.

Tae blinked. "What…?"

"It's nothing big," Joon said, rubbing the back of his neck, the slightest blush on his cheeks. "Just something I saw and thought of you."

Tae looked down at the box, then up at him again, then down. His fingers hovered over the ribbon, hesitant.

"Wait, can I really—?"

"Open it."

Tae untied the ribbon with fumbling fingers, peeling the paper back like he was uncovering something sacred. The second the top flap lifted, his breath caught.

Inside was a clean, fresh canvas. Beneath it, a carefully packed set of soft pastel paints, a palette, two brushes, and a set of charcoal pencils neatly held in place by elastic straps. Nothing fancy or high-end. But not cheap, either. Thoughtful. Practical.

And exactly what he hadn't even dared to ask for.

Tae stared at it for a moment, unmoving.

Then his voice came out smaller than expected. "You… meant it yesterday?."

Joon's smile softened, hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. "Well yeah, yesterday you said that you haven't painted since university. And you were talking about it like you miss it. Thought maybe this would help."

Tae didn't answer.

Instead, he stepped forward. The sound of the box being closed again echoed softly.

And then Joon barely had time to react before Tae's arms were around his middle, face pressing firmly into his chest.

Joon blinked, surprised, then he quietly and pleased slowly wrapped his arms around Tae in return. One hand lifted to cradle the back of his head gently, thumb brushing against the hair at his nape.

"Thank you," Tae mumbled into his chest. "You didn't have to. You really didn't."

"I know."

"But you did."

"I wanted to."

Joon tilted his chin slightly, resting it atop Tae's head. For a moment, they just stood there like that warm and close, like gravity had pulled them into each other and neither of them was in a rush to break it.

Tae pulled back a little, still staying in the circle of Joon's arms. He looked up at him with that almost-shy grin of his, cheeks lightly flushed.

"I know I said this but You actually wore the earrings too," he said, catching the light glinting off the studs in Joon's ears.

"I pinky promised you.." 

Tae's fingers lifted instinctively, brushing one stud with a feather-light touch, gaze following it like he'd just remembered something.

"I like them," he murmured. "You look… stupidly good with them."

Joon chuckled. "So I don't always?"

Tae smiled without looking away. "You always do."

Their eyes held. The air softened.

This time, the tension didn't feel dangerous or heavy. It felt like anticipation. Like something waiting to happen that neither of them was afraid of anymore.

"I'll paint something," Tae said suddenly, voice lighter again, stepping back just enough to reach for the box. "For you. But only if you keep feeding me burgers like that."

Joon smirked, folding his arms. "Deal."

"And maybe something sweet next time. Like cookies. Or cake. Or you."

Joon raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

Tae-hyun blinked, grinned wider and then turned around before Joon could tease him for the slip.

"Nothing! I said nothing!"

Joon laughed behind him, low and warm.