Kiss Me Like You’re Not Married.

They weren't rushing. There were still things unsaid. But the feeling was growing, real and steady and this time, neither of them was pretending it didn't matter.

The living room looked different now.

Joon-Won had turned off the lights, leaving only the soft glow from the city outside bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The curtains were drawn just enough to let in the distant gleam of car headlights and the occasional flicker of a neon sign from a nearby café. It painted their surroundings in soft moving shadows, blues and golds gently shifting over their skin and the floor.

The couch cushions had been pulled down and stacked lazily on the floor. Two mugs sat on the low coffee table.. still warm, steeping quietly in the dim.

Tae-hyun sat cross-legged on one of the cushions, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the gift box beside him now opened and half-empty. The fresh canvas sat balanced on his lap, and he'd already unwrapped a few colors, his fingers stained with the faintest smudge of green-blue. His whole posture was loose, unguarded, legs fidgeting as he dipped the brush again.

"I used to sneak into the fine arts studio at my university during exam season," he said, brush trailing softly over the canvas in long strokes. "Not even to paint sometimes. Just to sit in the smell of turpentine and dust and watch other people work. It calmed me down."

Joon sat nearby, one leg stretched out, the other bent, arm draped loosely over his knee. He hadn't looked away from Tae since they sat down.

"You were that kind of student?"

Tae grinned. "The one who gets stress nosebleeds if he doesn't pass his electives with high marks? Yes."

Joon huffed a quiet laugh. "Figures."

Tae dabbed a bit more color into the background he was laying down, vague shapes for now, just enough to give form. His eyes were focused, but there was a light in them. He was glowing in a way Joon hadn't seen since that first drunk dinner night and this time, it wasn't muddled by hesitation or restraint.

"I used to sketch people at cafes, too. Or the subway. Just quick outlines. I'd make up whole stories about them. That guy's definitely cheating on his girlfriend. That woman's running away from her job. That kid's about to drop out and become a musician."

"You still do that?"

"Not really. I tried, a while ago. But then work got in the way. Life. You know."

Joon nodded quietly.

"But," Tae glanced at him, "this is the first time I've touched a brush in… years. And it doesn't feel weird."

Joon's voice softened. "That's Good to know, you're doing great."

They sat in silence for a bit. The sound of the brush on canvas, muted and rhythmic, filled the space like music. Joon leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"What are you painting?"

Tae smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would," Joon shot back. "Especially since I paid for that canvas."

"You paid for the tools, not the creative rights."

"So stingy," Joon said, leaning closer, narrowing his eyes as he tried to grasp what Tae is doing. "Let me try."

Tae stilled for a second and blinked. "You want to paint?" He glanced over at him.

"No promises. I haven't held a brush since middle school."

"That's.. a terrifying thought."

But he handed it over anyway, smirking. Joon took it gingerly, like it was more dangerous than it looked.

"Here," Tae leaned in, scooting closer until their knees brushed. He placed his hand over Joon's, guiding the motion. "Just a simple line. Don't overthink it. Feel it."

Joon dragged the brush across the canvas, wobbly and slow.

A moment passed and Tae-hyun sighed dramatically, teasing Joon.

"That… is the worst line I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"You're giving toddler at daycare."

Joon looked down at it, lips twitching. "It's charmingly abstract."

"It's a disaster."

Joon flushed a little, pulling his hand away from the brush back like it burned. "You're mean when you're in your zone." He mumbled and crossed his arms.

Tae laughed bright and unfiltered, head tilting back slightly before he reached over, nudging Joon's shoulder playfully.

"I like how you're trying this just because I like it," he said, voice softer again.

Joon looked at him, really looked and the quiet stretched just enough for Tae to feel it.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Joon leaned back, settling beside him instead of in front of him now, letting Tae take control of the canvas again.

But he didn't look away. Smiling softly as he watch him work away, pretending like Tae comment wasn't true. But it was.

Tae picked up another brush, still smiling to himself, and kept painting shapes slowly forming with more purpose now. Maybe it was a landscape. Maybe a dream. Maybe just colors that felt like the night.

And between them, the silence was comfortable.

Occasionally, Tae would mutter something about the tone being off, or how the paper felt too new, or how he forgot how relaxing this was and Joon would murmur back in that low, warm voice, asking him what it meant, what it reminded him of, what else he used to do when he painted.

Sometimes their hands touched, reaching for the same brush.

Sometimes they leaned a little too close while watching the strokes appear.

But neither of them moved away.

And through it all, Joon watched Tae like he was something that couldn't be duplicated, like this version of him, hoodie half slipping off his shoulder, fingers stained with color, eyes lit up like a boy again, was a privilege to witness.

The room felt softer now. The half-finished painting rested at the edge of Tae-hyun's lap, colors blending where he'd smoothed them with his thumb. It wasn't quite anything yet but it didn't need to be.

Joon-Won had moved closer again, their shoulders brushing lightly. He cradled his coffee mug with both hands, slowly sipping, eyes drifting toward Tae every few moments as if watching something precious he wasn't ready to blink away from.

They were quiet for a while, the kind of silence that didn't ache.

Then, Tae broke it softly.

"Did you always cook like that?" he asked, still focused on the canvas. "Or did you become a chef out of desperation?"

Joon-Won snorted. "Definitely desperation."

Tae looked up, amused.

"No, seriously," Joon said, "when my mom passed, after teaching me all this, I was just… lost. I couldn't eat for weeks. Every time I tried cooking I'd remember her, it felt like my mouth was stuffed with sand. I think grief screws with your senses that way."

Tae lowered his brush, listening now.

"But one day.. I don't know why, I forced myself to try cooking like she taught me. Not for anyone. Just for myself. I used her old recipe, something simple. Seaweed soup."

He paused, eyes on the floor for a moment before he smiled faintly. "I burned it. But it still tasted like her."

Tae-hyun's gaze softened. The light reflected off his eyes, warm and glassy. He said nothing, just let Joon continue when he was ready.

"I think that was the day I realized… food could keep someone alive. Not literally. But memory-wise. Emotionally." He looked over, smiling gently. "That's why I do it still. It's not about impressing people."

Tae reached out quietly and brushed a speck of paint off Joon's wrist. "You don't talk about her much, do you?"

"I don't talk much at all."

Tae smiled. "True."

There was another pause, this one tinged with something heavier, but not unpleasant. Tae looked down at his canvas again, fingers twitching a little.

"I came out to my parents as bisexual when I was twenty," he offered next, brushing new color on gently. "It wasn't dramatic or anything. I just said it while we were folding laundry."

Joon turned to face him slightly, his eyes lock onto his face as he tilt his head and listens. "Really?"

"Yeah. I think my mom was more upset I'd hidden it for so long than the fact itself."

"And your dad?"

Tae exhaled slowly, a small puff of air through his nose. "He was quiet for a full five minutes. Didn't even look up from the shirt he was folding. Then he said, 'As long as the guy's not ugly, I'm happy.' "

Joon let out a sudden laugh, head tipping back slightly and a hand covering his face.

"I'm serious!" Tae said, grinning. "Then he added, 'Tell him not to wear slippers in my house, though.' Like that was the important part."

"I love your dad already."

"You'd get along. He likes men with muscles."

Joon looked over, teasing. "Is that why you married your wife?"

Tae chuckled and shrugged playfully. "She's got better arms than me, she's a mother after all with a heavy kid."

Another small silence settled between them, but this time it pulsed with something sweeter, a kind of comfort only found in shared pasts and slowly unwinding hearts.

Then, without warning, Joon leaned over, gently nudging Tae's paint-covered hand away from the canvas.

"Hey—!"

"Enough," Joon whispered with a playful tilt of his head. "You're getting distracted."

"What?"

"I want your attention."

Before Tae could respond, Joon slid down onto the cushion beside him and laid his head gently in Tae's lap.

Tae stiffened at first, surprised, until Joon looked up at him with the softest grin, eyes narrowed, mouth curled in a childish pout.

"You're supposed to be on a date with me, remember?"

Tae blinked, thrown by the sudden switch in dynamic — Joon's voice low and teasing, but his eyes open, playful, almost boyish.

"I— You—" Tae flustered, the brush still in his hand twitching above Joon's chest.

Joon reached up and flicked the end of it with a smirk. "Put that down before you poke my eye."

"You're unbelievable."

"And charming."

Tae let out a laugh, small and breathy before carefully setting the brush aside. He looked down at Joon again, face framed by the city lights beyond the glass.

His fingers brushed a bit of it away, letting the backs of his knuckles graze lightly over Joon's cheek.

"You really put effort into this," he said softly.

Joon's voice lowered. "I asked you out after all."

Tae's hand lingered. "You didn't have to."

Joon's eyes held his. "I wanted to."

A beat passed and then Tae, flustered all over again, looked away with a small scoff, his hand moving back down toward his lap, brushing against Joon's chest again.

Joon caught it before it could go.

"Hey," he said, curling his fingers around Tae's gently. "Stay right here for a second."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," Joon whispered. "Because this might be my favorite part of the night."

Joon-Won hummed low under his breath, eyes half-lidded from where he lay across Tae-hyun's lap, the rise and fall of his chest calm and steady. His blond lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, catching the faint light slipping in from the window behind them. Tae-hyun's fingers were in his hair now, moving in lazy, circular motions, like he was trying to soothe something unsettled, though neither of them wanted peace to come too quickly.

"You like this?" Tae asked, voice low but teasing, his nails dragging softly over Joon's scalp.

"Mmm," Joon murmured without opening his eyes. "I'd let you do this every night if you offered."

Tae chuckled. "That desperate for head scratches?"

"Desperate for your hands," Joon replied, lips curling.

Tae's breath hitched at the ease of the reply, but he covered it with another laugh, a little flustered, a little bold. "You're lucky I like pampering stubborn men."

Joon's eyes cracked open. "I'm not stubborn."

"You're the definition of stubborn. You wouldn't even tell me what the surprise was earlier—"

"If I could, I still would've not told you."

Tae huffed. "Why not?"

"Because you're cuter when you whine."

Tae paused, mouth twitching. "You're so full of yourself."

"And yet," Joon drawled, eyes lifting toward him, "you're stroking my hair like we've been married for ten years."

"That's because you're quiet for once," Tae muttered, flicking a strand of blond hair off Joon's forehead.

"Touché."

They grinned at each other, that same quiet grin they'd started sharing lately, the one that didn't quite belong to friends but wasn't ready to call itself love either. It was suspended somewhere in the warmth between them. More like safe and understanding.. comfortable.

Joon shifted, his hand sneaking up to rest lightly on Tae's thigh. Not inappropriate, not yet.. just enough to be felt.

"You know," Tae said, tilting his head, "if someone walked in right now, they'd think you were the clingy one."

Joon smirked and tilted his head back into Tae hand softly seeking more friction. "I am the clingy one. You just haven't caught up yet."

Tae raised a brow. "Bold for a man lying in my lap like a spoiled cat."

"Keep petting me and I'll start purring."

"You're disgusting," Tae laughed, cheeks flushing slightly.

"I'm honest," Joon countered. "And you love it."

Tae let his fingers glide down toward Joon's temple now, brushing along the shell of his ear. His thumb paused at the earring, studying it again the way the metal caught the light, the simple stud that made Joon look just a little younger, a little more his.

"I really REALLY do like this on you," Tae said quietly.

"I wore it for you."

"I know. That's what makes it worse."

"Worse?"

Tae leaned in slightly, whispering near his ear. "Because now I keep wondering what else you'd wear if I asked."

Joon's grip on his thigh tightened just a little, eyes darkening slightly. "That a threat?"

"Maybe."

Their eyes locked. The playful tension in the room swelled, humming under the surface like static clinging to their skin. Neither moved, not quite but something had changed in the atmosphere.

Then Joon smiled again, head still in Tae's lap, and said softly, "Fine. Let's play a game then."

"What kind of game?"

"Truth or dare."

Tae rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Seriously?"

"You started it," Joon said, clearly enjoying himself. "I'm just taking advantage of your attention span."

Tae snorted. "Alright then. Truth."

Joon tilted his head. "What's one thing you miss… about being single?"

Tae thought for a moment. "Sleeping diagonally."

"That's your answer?"

"It's a valid answer."

Joon chuckled. "You're so weird."

"You're the one playing Truth or Dare like we're in middle school."

"Fine. Your turn."

Tae smirked. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Tae leaned over slightly, his thumb now idly rubbing the edge of Joon's earring. "When was the last time you thought about me… when you shouldn't have?"

Joon's lips parted.

A long beat passed.

He didn't shy away from the question, didn't pretend to laugh it off like he usually might.

Instead, he answered, voice low and honest. "Last night. Before bed."

Tae-hyun blinked. "Oh."

"I was thinking about your hands," Joon added casually, as if that somehow made it more innocent. "And how they look wrapped around my cock.. so that was that."

Tae went quiet at that, just for a moment his eyes locked down onto Joon-hyun with slightly parted lips before slowly responding.

"Truth," he said again, quieter now.

Joon's voice lowered too, he didn't hesitate and mumbled. "When did you realize this wasn't just about sex anymore?"

Tae didn't flinch. His fingers were still in Joon's hair, curling lightly.

"That night when you first brought me here," he whispered. "And today.. somewhere between the burger… and you putting your head in my lap."

Joon-Won exhaled a small laugh through his nose, soft and warm.

"Your turn," Tae murmured. Even though it wasn't Joon-won turn, he knew Joon wouldn't point it out.

Joon looked up at him, eyes darker now and he whispered. "Truth or dare?"

Tae didn't hesitate. "Dare."

Joon's smile curled, slow and deliberate. "Kiss me, Tae-hyun." He whispered and reached a hand up to softly brush a strand of hair away from his eyes before adding. "Kiss me like you're not married.. make me feel special tonight."

Tae's lips parted.. his eyes widen slightly, not in surprise, but in a way that said finally.. his heart was jumping out of his chest at those bold words coming from Joon and then, he leaned down slowly, hair falling over his brow as their faces drew closer, breaths mingling, warmth shared in the sliver of space between them.

He stopped just short, hovering.

"Say please.. and I might do exactly that," Tae whispered breathlessly against his hips, dark brown eyes locked onto his hazel ones.

Joon grinned against the tension and whispered huskily. "Fuck.. Please do."

And Tae kissed him right away.

The kiss started slow, the kind that felt like an echo of something that had been waiting between them for a long time. Tae-hyun's lips pressed to Joon-Won's with a soft, careful pressure, like he wanted to memorize the shape of him first. Joon's hand slid up along his thigh, not pulling, just resting, grounding, as his other hand stayed draped lazily behind his head on Tae's lap.

The silence was only broken by the quiet exhale that passed between them.

And then Joon kissed back, deeper this time, slow but sure, tilting his head slightly so their mouths aligned better. His lips moved with more confidence, more intention. He tasted of coffee and something warm, something unspoken. Tae responded instinctively, a soft moan slipping out before he could catch it.

Joon's grip on his thigh tightened.

Tae whimpered quietly into it, letting his fingers slip deeper into Joon's soft blond hair, pulling just faintly, the friction of their lips building heat between them like a slow match striking.

Then Joon groaned low, from somewhere in his chest and that sound alone made Tae clutch his shirt and kiss him harder for one slow, drawn-out moment.

When they finally pulled back, both were breathing through parted lips, foreheads resting against one another.

Tae's cheeks were flushed. Joon's eyes were heavy.

Tae licked his lips unconsciously. "…That was supposed to be a dare."

Joon was still catching his breath. "Best one I've had."

Tae let out a soft, breathy laugh and leaned back a little, the glow of city lights spilling over his features. Without needing to speak, his hand returned to Joon's hair again, resuming the soft strokes like nothing had happened or maybe because everything had just happened.

He exhaled. "Okay. Truth or dare."

Joon's smile returned, lazy but affected. "Truth."

Tae smirked. "What do you want most right now?"

Joon didn't even blink or take a breath before he answered. "You."

Tae's fingers froze.

Joon added, "Here. Like this. Just like this."

Tae flushed again, but this time the heat wasn't from embarrassment, it was something warmer. Safer.

He nodded a little, as if to accept it.

Joon's smile tugged wider, not cocky this time, just… relieved by Tae-hyun small nod.

"Your turn," Tae whispered again, his voice was quieter as he stares down at him. "Truth or dare?"

Joon smirked up at him, eyes slightly lidded. "Dare."

Tae leaned down until their noses brushed again. "I dare you… to stop looking at me like that."

Joon grinned, full of mischief. "Can't."

"You're impossible."

"And yet… you're still tolerating me."

Their smiles met, and the game continued, softer now, but deeper, laced with real questions, real dares, real truths that bled closer and closer to confessions. The air between them pulsed with something unspoken, no longer just lust or longing, but that quiet, terrifying question that neither dared to say aloud.

What if this was more?

That's not something either of them was ready to even think about at the moment.