Chapter Text
Maru gnaws on his lollipop-strawberry flavored. He had bought a pack from the store just a few days ago, but the stock was dwindling down. Maru keeps his variety pack of lollipops in his second drawer, on the left, behind a stack of papers he can only hope he'll eventually catch up to. The reports had been the same, monotonous yet torturous.
The office had some chatter, especially with Yoseok blabbering about a scene from one of his favorite k-dramas. It eventually dwindled down to background noise, buzzing low to Maru's ears. He was more-so dissociating than focused.
Maru's focus these days have either been during fights against nachals-his next moves, the next strategy, how to take them down-or focused on the very thing he's been trying to avoid, but failing miserably at.
Now, as Maru's fingers type feverishly, his posture hunched, rolling the lollipop around in his mouth, he just wanted to get this report over with so he could leave the damn office.
It normally didn't bother him that much, the quiet buzz of the office. But there had been no nachal alerts these past few days.
No startling alarms or current missions to dive first into. And it was becoming bothersome. His legs were restless under the desk.
Maru recalls last weekend's excursion with a languid heat.
It was the belt at first, the strikes quick and swift. Then, with Seonwoo's gloved hands, the sound reverberating in the room with a loud crack. Then, bare hand to ass, leaving Maru heaving out of breath, trembling while he felt Seonwoo's thick gaze over his sensitive lower half.
It wasn't until- minutes? hours? after, that Seonwoo had jerked him off, with the other gloved hand at that. Had the decency to wipe him up that time, but only because Maru's whimpering and trembling was just pitiful enough that Seonwoo had wrapped him up in blankets after that, soothing him with sweet words that had made a pit drop in his stomach harder than when he had been spanking his ass and reprimanding him for cumming on his black dress pants.
Maru's fingers had typed, backspaced, and retyped the same sentence about 6 different ways. His jaw began to fidget, though his new oral fixation on lollipops had him stamping down all the curse words he'd been holding behind his teeth-though he wasn't holding back in his mind.
And now, the suave bastard was leisurely working on his own reports, writing something seemingly important with an ink pen. With a new pair of gloves. Maru knew, since the current gloves that Seonwoo were using had knuckle holes, and a small metal buckle around the wrists.
Also since he had tossed all the fabrics stained with... liquid, into the washer.
He imagined those fingers running along his backside, grabbing at his ass cheeks. Would he lube up his fingers, or stick it in without mercy? No matter what, he'd be precise. Maru couldn't imagine that the man who fought nachals with devastating, clean, cracks, would carry that into the bedroom. In hindsight, those sadistic tendencies were obvious, almost foreboding.
What Maru could imagine was Seonwoo poking and prodding at his insides until the pain melted into pleasure, until he'd find a spot that would make him clench, twist his hips, and beg for more.
Those fingers wrapping around his throat, giving a good squeeze. Sliding over his jaw, beckoning his mouth open. He would open, too. Swirl his tongue around the digits, get them nice and wet before--
Crack.
The remaining hardened bits of the lollipop broke under the pressure in Maru's mouth. He grumbled to himself and chewed on the hard pieces of sugar. Maru wanted to shoot a glare at Seonwoo, but directed his anger towards the screen in front of him and typed faster.
He didn't realize he was holding in a yawn until it bubbled up, and Maru let out a heavy sigh and leaned his weight back into the rolling office chair. He let his head fall back and blinked, the upside down hazy view of long black hair becoming clear.
Maru jumped. "Officer Kang!"
Chana was wearing her usual black tracksuit, sleek and slim, fitting her curves in all the right places. She smiled softly. "Working hard or hardly working?"
Ah, Chana. Beautiful, smooth, and elegant. She was cold and calculating to most people, but had shown some unexpected charming sides of herself as time went on. Maru had stuttered something vague in response, but Chana shook her head with a chuckle.
"I'm kidding. You've been at it since this morning!" She lightly punched maru on the shoulder. "Seems like you're responsible for more than just fighting."
"Right..." Maru mumbled, unsure of what to say.
His hands were off the keyboard by now, cursor flickering on the sentence he hadn't been able to finish. He swiveled his chair to fully face her now, listening attentively. At least he could be in Chana's presence, which had done a great deal in calming down what he had been ruminating about but refused to confront.
Maru swears he isn't normally so cowardly, but looking back at the guy he was before all of this Special Civil Servant work had happened, before he got caught in the yellow dust--and it's like he's back with an old friend. His stupid, looming shadow. The bleak, dark force within him that shared his trauma from childhood, the force that threatened to pull the rug from under him if he wasn't careful enough.
The panic attacks felt more cruel now that there was actually weight to them. What used to be nightmares of the boogeymen man were tangible, and very much real, and Maru had gotten the bitter taste of losing people before his very eyes. Had learned that everyone on the team lost someone important to them, someone they loved. He used to be able to deny the fears inside his head of their validity, but the mind has a unique way of reminding you of the exact things you don't want to be thinking of.
Maru had a habit of falling back into these self-deprecating patterns, but having someone like Seonwoo-a man who could stand on his own two feet, who used every resource at his disposal, who scoffed at his initial powerlessness,-it riled Maru up in ways he didn't expect.
Back when they first met in the conference room, Seonwoo had been in his usual suit and gloves, while Maru was wearing a Hawaiian shirt looking like a tourist. They had already been on rocky footing, in terms of being team players. But he could feel the hairs on his neck bristling at the sight of this cocky bastard, felt his blood get a bit hotter, like he suddenly had something to prove, even if 5 seconds before he was cursing himself in his own head.
Mentally, Maru easily fell back into the same patterns, the same temptations. But living with Seonwoo did have its perks, like having a consistent routine. The first couple months were torture, with Seonwoo's early rise forcing Maru into a rhythm. Not by physical force, but he had edged Maru to a competitiveness that was never really prompted out loud.
Even if all the failed interviews and attempts at becoming someone worth...something, had plagued his mind-things were different now.
Maru had gotten stronger, of course. His natural physique was all thanks to his strong muscled mother, and he had only continued to build definition in his abs, arms, and legs from devouring nachal and training.
Seonwoo would argue that it was mainly because of his devouring, that his greediness was making him stronger, not genuine talent or potential. Maru didn't have a strong enough retort to that, which pissed him off more than Seonwoo trying to annoy him.
Maru had quickly picked himself up after the brief interaction with Chana, her scent rose-tinted with amber musk. Humming to himself, he takes a stack of papers from his desk and walks to the copy machine room. He sees the unmistakable head of cerulean hair, the neat trim leading to his neck, the collared suit, clean stitches that run down the middle of his broad back.
It surprises Maru more than he expects, when Seonwoo turns his head to the side to glance at him. He had barely made a sound walking across the carpet, crossing the open threshold between the open office and the copy machine room.
He's never had a loud presence. As a kid, in school, and especially during his hunt for employment as a 29 year old. Yet Seonwoo seemed to always be aware of his surroundings, taking note of his power in relation to everything around him. The broad stance he takes on, the effortlessly arrogant remarks that easily slide out of his mouth—he's bitchy and knows it, flaunts it so naturally.
Maru learned that Seonwoo doesn't brag as much as he thought, but from the beginning, he had made his intentions clear with his actions. Breaking every finger, extra joints without hesitation--even the molars in his mouth to make sure with a clear certainty that his opponent would fall. He never needs to put on a show, because he shines in his own right. He doesn't need to show off, but does it for fun anyways.
The petty arguments, the twists and pulls, the stupid situations that they'd fight together in or pull each other out of—had always built a strange sense of comradery even when both of them got agitated. Heated. Frustrated.
Their fights were common. The disagreements and bickering were second nature. They both felt comforted by sitting together on the couch as much as ranting until the other's head was about to explode.
It was nice. It was consistent. It was easy.
But Maru's mistake was thinking that this could ever be easy at all.
Because the closeness in proximity, the adrenaline from annoyance and frustration was turning the heat up in a way that made Maru itch. It suspended this unsettling feeling in his gut, almost of unpredictability.
Pain was familiar. It's what’s expected, what always happens. It's inevitable. It's the fallback, a net he had let himself fall into time and time again because the pain could snap him back. It could slap him across the face, pull him against the concrete, and in his classic stubborn fashion, Maru could find a way out of it. Start things over again, because he had never really began.
The soft murmurs, the strong yet delicate touches, the spaces being carved out for him to fit into...it was different. It wasn't painful in the way Maru braced himself for. It might have not been painful at all.
And maybe that's the scary part.
Maru decided then to not look at Seonwoo at all, organizing his stack of papers on top of the table.
"I have more I need to copy, hope you don't mind", and Seonwoo swiftly turns around with a new stack of papers in his hands, just to show Maru.
"You know it's not just you that needs to use it, right?" Maru rolls his eyes, back turned to Seonwoo.
"I could say the same to you."
In the midst of his organizing, a paper makes its way out of the stack, slides off the table, and Maru is bending down to reach for it, but Seonwoo catches it before it even reaches the floor. Folds it neatly on top of the stack Maru has his hands on, and stays close behind Maru.
He burns his gaze into the left corner where his fingers are rubbing against the stack like cards, estimating the amount for no reason. 10, 14, 19, 25, 35, 50...
"You've been at your desk this whole time, and yet when I'm using the printer, you also need to use it?" Seonwoo scoffs, then effortlessly slides into what sounds like an irritating smirk. Not that Maru would know.
"It's almost like you're not the only person who works here." Maru shuffles his papers out of reflex. Keeps his gaze on the corner edges where he can adjust them to perfectly align.
"And it's almost like this isn't the only printer available."
"Don't care. I'm using it."
"After me, you mean? You're going to have to wait patiently", and Seonwoo pats the printer like it's a big dog.
"Guess I could just break the printer. Then neither of us can finish our work."
"Awe, you'd go that far just to spend time with me?"
"Shut up."
"But it's so nice for you to keep me company. Not just outside of work, but during work too."
"You don't have to be such a dick, you know." Maru's finger reaches the top of the stack, and he's estimated to almost 345.
“But you like it, don't you?" Maru whips around out of reflex, glaring at Seonwoo. He flinches for a split second, silently knocking himself for giving in so quickly. Turns his head to the side.
"Shut up." Maru reaches into his pocket where he's stuffed at least 4 lollipops, great for moments like these where he's 3 seconds from biting Seonwoo's head off.
He grabs a random one, hastily unwraps it, pops it in his mouth. Coconut and pineapple flavor, this time.
Focusing on the sweetness on his tongue, it's not until Seonwoo offers his gloved hand in front of Maru, palm open. The perfectly gloved hand definitely doesn't make Maru pause, or quicken his pulse. Nope. I am resilient. I am strong. These are words Maru thinks a therapist would tell him to say in the mirror, if he had one.
Seonwoo continues to give Maru an innocent smile that is anything but. He doesn't even need to say anything, and Maru goes, "I don't have any."
"Then what's this?" Seonwoo's hand swiftly makes its way down, taps at the bulge in Maru's pants--
Pocket.
His pants pocket.
The one with a bunch of lollipops in them.
Now that Maru looks down, he can see how noticeable it is, a lump jutting out from his black slacks.
"I don't have any..." His gaze flickers back and forms a glare at Seonwoo's face. "For you." Satisfied with this, Maru repeats it again and stubbornly crosses his arms. Leans back against the table for good measure, staring down Seonwoo.
"You're so childish."
"Says you."
The printer continues to push out endless copies of whatever Seonwoo put into it, as he leans in closer. Maru is minding the gap out of his peripheral with increased effort, calculating the amount of seconds it would take for his hips to become flush with Seonwoo's and it's less than 3 seconds at the current speed—but it stops.
They're approximately 2 seconds away from touching at this angle.
Not that he's counting.
One of Seonwoo's hands wrapped around the edge of the table, trapping Maru in on one side.
He could make a swift exit. But he doesn't.
Seonwoo pokes the small stem sticking out of Maru's mouth. "You've been stuffing these down like crazy. Keeping a stash in your drawer isn't doing you any favors." How does he know that?
Maru rolls his eyes. He should step aside now. Make some room for himself. But still doesn't.
"Your teeth are gonna rot if you eat too much", Seonwoo flickers his gaze on Maru's lips, then his eyes.
"Then I guess my mouth should've rotted a long time ago, from the shit I eat." Maru slides the lollipop to the side of his mouth as he's talking, and he should have seen this coming, but Seonwoo grabs the stick and puts it directly in his mouth.
The suited man bears a sly grin as he considers the flavor. "Aw, my favorite! How'd you know?"
Before he can think twice, Maru grabs the stick and shoves it back into his mouth. Seonwoo's eyes widen, and with his mouth open, he looks a little stunned. Maru has half a mind to laugh right in his face, until he swishes the lollipop around in his mouth.
He can taste the layer of saliva for a split second on the lollipop, before it quickly fades back to the coconut pineapple flavor. Though it's so thin it could be mistaken as water, Maru feels the warm saliva, mixed with the melted sugar candy slide down his throat in an accidental gulp.
It should make him feel disgusted, but he feels hot in the face. He braces himself to look as neutral as he possibly can.
His heart thumps in his chest. An indirect kiss...?
Maru is apalled at the realization that Seonwoo had taken some of his saliva, and that him taking the lollipop back meant that he really did swap saliva with him. He tears his eyes away, looks at anything but his face, if just for 5 seconds.
And praise the Gods, the printer makes the distinctive beeping noise, the same tune it plays when all the copies are done, as if it demands to be freed from requests. Maru silently apologizes—not to Seonwoo, but to the printer, and gives thanks. He shoves his own stack of papers into the machine, types in the corresponding emails, and lets the copy machine fax away.
The busying of his hands tamps down his thoughts, if only briefly, so he can hold in the reins.
Seonwoo rubs at his chin a bit, and when Maru turns to look at him again, the indifference in his face is enough to make him erase all of his thoughts from before. Not completely, though. It smudges a bit in his mind, smearing around in the way that you can never get stained permanent marker off a whiteboard.
Maru chomps down on the lollipop with a great force, mashing the hardened candy bits into powder that melt easier in his mouth. The hum of the copier, and the stale air of the office, and standing next to the man he’s been trying not to think about makes the tie around his neck feel tight. The bubbling of the water cooler and the quiet ventilation system doesn’t do much to soothe his nerves.
"You couldn't have waited for me to grab my papers?” Seonwoo gestures at the output tray of the printer, heavy with stacks. He leans in with a scowl. “Now I don't know where mine ends and yours begins."
Damn it.
It's 8:53 PM when Maru sees Seonwoo hasn't gone home yet. He had just finished taking a shower, rubbing his head with the towel. A loose beige t-shirt with a permanent oil stain in the middle, and black sweatpants. Settles down onto the leather couch with the towel rolled up underneath his head, hair still slightly damp. Opens his phone and starts typing.
Me: wyd
Seonwoo: groceries
Me: At this hour?
Seonwoo: Less people
Me: Can u get sum yakult? We’re almost out
Seonwoo: Yeah
Me: Thx
Notification: Kakao Pay- [Seonwoo Eden requested $35 from you]
Me: Wtf is that
Seonwoo: what do you mean
Me: Yakult doesn’t cost that much
Me: ur scamming me
Seonwoo: It’s half of the bill actually
Me: Are groceries that expensive
Seonwoo: Yeah
Me: u let ur self get scammed & now ur scamming me
Seonwoo: I get the good ingredients. Just pay me already
Seonwoo: Don’t be stingy I know you have the money
He was unfortunately right. The missions had become more and more dangerous with the upper level nachals learning about Maru’s existence, and the ministry had invested more into the company he was under in order to prioritize their strategy—whatever it was. Their recent pay increase had Maru tempted to splurge on snacks and the arcade, but he hasn’t had much energy to go out recently.
Maru doesn’t know when exactly he falls asleep, just dozes off before he's able to send Seonwoo the money. The jangle of the doorknob and the rustle of heavy plastic bags has Maru blearily waking up.
Seonwoo kicks off his black sneakers. He doesn’t have his suit jacket on, but the sleek vest on top of his white button up, paired with a dark blue tie still makes him look put together, rather than just casual. Did he really go to the grocery store looking like that?
He sighs, walks past Maru lounging on the couch and says, “Was wondering why you didn’t send me the money.”
”You’re still on that?” Maru murmurs, blinking away the tears from yawning.
”I don’t forget the debts people owe me.” He rummages in the fridge, putting all the protein and vegetables and milk in their corresponding places. Wraps up the plastic bags and tosses them in one of the small drawers where the bags seem to pile up endlessly but still make room. “Though I guess you can pay me a different way.”
”And what way would that be?”
”What way are you thinking?”
”Dude.”
”Don’t ‘dude’ me.”
”Bro. Seonwoo.”
Seonwoo comes back into the living room, having finished storing the produce away. He starts to loosen his tie, and Maru quickly thinks Right here? Right now? Like he’s about to unbutton his vest, and everything else, but he doesn’t.
Oh. He was just adjusting himself.
He thinks it would have been strange for him to take everything off before the gloves, and it’s irritating that in his dreams, those are actually the last pieces of clothing he takes off.
Maru realizes he’s staring at his neck, at the tie, the juncture between where his gloves hands are placed near his chest. So he gazes to a particularly interesting blank spot on the ceiling instead. The suited bastard quickly interrupts the staring contest he’s having, and the hand over the top of his head makes him flinch.
“What did I tell you about sleeping with wet hair?” He grabs at some of the strands, thumb and finger sliding smoothly off some of the bang pieces. “You’re going to get sick if you don’t dry off properly”, and grabs the towel from behind Maru’s head.
It makes his head knock against the arm rest of the couch, and he grumbles a complaint before Seonwoo unwraps the slightly damp fabric and rubs around Maru’s scalp. The back of his head, his bangs, the sides. He rubs for longer than necessary, and Maru slaps Seonwoo’s arm to get him to stop.
“Are you my mom?"
Seonwoo chuckles. ”If you want to call me ‘mommy’, we could make some arrangements.”
”Gross.” Maru rolls out another yawn, stretches his arms above his head and cradles his neck, settling for a more comfortable position in the couch, ignoring the newly weighted heat sinking down to his side.
He also definitely doesn’t notice how their hips touch at this point, wondering why he hasn’t been able to predict the distances closing in recently. In the copy machine room, and now, Maru’s decreased alertness of his surroundings makes him feel more exposed than he thought was possible.
And if that’s going to be the case, then Maru should hop on the curb before it sweeps under him like an ocean tidal wave. Take initiative.
So he starts with a question: "Does anyone else know?"
"Know what?"
“About… us. This.” Maru gestures vaguely, reaching up and scratching his own head with the towel, feeling comforted by the fabric wrapping around his head and neck. He crosses one leg over the other.
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Ugh.” Maru rubs his temples. “This…arrangement?” And Maru feels stupid when it comes out of his mouth, because what they’ve been doing for the past 3 weeks hardly constitutes such a professional description.
“If you trust me enough to take care of your urges, that’s enough for me”, Seonwoo shrugs.
”Urges?”
"Are you forgetting how you came onto me 3 days ago?”
Maru blinks. He swears it was just the mood, the lighting of the room, not just his single minded volition that had him ending up grinding pathetically in Seonwoo’s lap again. “Don’t remind me.”
"We‘ve been living together for two months now. The team’s said everything possible, don’t you think?”
Maru grimaces, still remembering the impromptu interrogation session brought on by Captain Deokman, moreso out of the pettiness of being rejected for being a messy slob. It had forced both Maru and Seonwoo to be on the same page, their irritation and flustered nature being directed at someone else rather than each other. It put a satisfying look on Deokman’s face that made the two want to strangle the captain.
"I mean-- what about you?"
"What about me?” Seonwoo tilts his head, slightly. He looks down at Maru from this angle, the bangs forming shadows across his forehead in a familiar way.
Maru doesn’t know why saying the words is harder than when their bodies mesh together with heated fervor. What are we, exactly? Was it my mistake for moving in with you in the first place? Was this bound to happen? But he doesn't ask any of that.
"Does it matter to you?" And Maru realizes Seonwoo is interpreting the question in a relaxed manner, because he slides more weight onto Maru's hip and only stops to ponder for half a second before saying, "Doesn't matter to me."
Maru scratches his cuticles. "Don't you have a reputation to uphold?"
"And what reputation would that be?"
"A smart asshole with a bad temper."
Seonwoo doesn't even blink. "Are we talking about me or you now?"
"You think I'm smart?"
"You've got a temper, that's for sure."
"Man, shut up", Maru scoffs, proving him right.
Seonwoo slugs him right in the stomach. "Don't 'man' me!" Maru stiffens from the punch, hands coming down to cover his stomach, and tries to whack Seonwoo right back, but he dodges. Maru sits further upright, jabbing his foot into Seonwoo’s side, but Seonwoo swiftly grabs his ankle. Maru freezes.
"You want to tell our coworkers how exactly I'm taking care of you?" Seonwoo raises an eyebrow. Maru's face heats at the implications.
"No- I just.." Maru tries to flex his foot, but Seonwoo’s grip tightens. He swallows.
"Just what?"
"I don't know..." Maru exasperates. "feels like I'm hiding something from them."
A pause. Then a beat.
"Hiding is different from privacy."
"I guess so..."
"Didn't you move out of Deokman's place because you didn't have any privacy?"
The mention of Deokman and his living quarters sobers Maru up a bit, and apparently the memories of living in a pigsty makes Maru's face twist, because Seonwoo chuckles.
"If this affects the team-" Seonwoo doesn't let him finish his sentence.
"It won't. Unless you let it." Easy for you to say. Maru squints at him.
Seonwoo turns his body, raises Maru's ankle and places it on his shoulder, still keeping a firm grip. Those blue eyes harden a bit, half lidded as they rake across where his hand starts, and slowly up Maru's body that sends a shiver down his spine.
He doesn't know how, or when he's ever going to get used to the way Seonwoo's gaze has changed. The way he looks down at him, hungry and ready to pounce at the drop of a hat.
Two can play at that game.
In small protest, Maru lifts his right leg, shifting his hip that was flush with Seonwoo's, and kicks the ball of his foot against Seonwoo's shoulder. His shoulder jerks, and Maru smirks at this. Tries to nudge him again on his chest with his feet, but he sits firm. Solid.
Maybe lower?
His left foot is still held captive on Seonwoo's shoulder, so he plants the other planted firmly on Seonwoo's stomach. He slides his right foot down, feeling the blend of cotton and silk that fits Seonwoo perfectly. Feels his toes rub against the junctures of the folds in the vest, the clean stitches. Gets down to where the three buttons clasp at the end, inspects them in the way one would with their hands.
He feels Seonwoo let out an exhale when he pushes his toes back up into his ribs, but he doesn't let up. Doesn't lean back, and doesn't let go of Maru's ankle. Maru absentmindedly realizes he's opened up his hips, and compromising position, Maru could let Seonwoo have at it. What's another peg to be knocked down?
But Maru's not really feeling like succumbing so soon, even if his hips hitch up on their own. Maru keeps his hands behind his head to restrain himself, but continues running his right foot around Seonwoo's chest, down his stomach, around his abdomen.
Seonwoo suddenly grabs at Maru's other ankle when it reaches his lower abdomen. A warning.
"You can never keep still, you know that?"
"No, I had no idea", Maru smirks, wriggling his toes to feel the tense muscle underneath the vest.
Maru decides he would be fine if Seonwoo bent him over until his ankles were on either side of his head, and fucked him into the couch. But liquids seeping in between the couch cushions would be a pain in the ass to clean, so Maru tucks in that idea to rest for another day.
Seonwoo clicks his tongue, and says, "If we both like it, then what's the problem?"
Maru pauses at this.
"I didn't say there was a problem."
"It sounded like you thought there was a problem."
"There's not."
"Are you sure?"
"Do you ever listen to me the first time?"
"You don't always mean what you say."
"You callin' me a liar?"
"You're not a goodie two-shoes, that's for sure."
"The fuck is that suppose to mean?"
Seonwoo smacks the side of his ankle. "Why are you always so combative?"
"Because you're annoying."
"They crucified Jesus for telling the truth", Seonwoo dramatically sighs.
Maru frowns. "You're comparing yourself to Jesus now?"
"You just get pissy when I tell you anything you don't want to hear." Seonwoo starts to massage the ball of his foot, feeling some of the tension loosen up.
"Why are you being so persistent?"
"I just don't know why you're bringing other people's opinions into this."
Maru pulls the foot currently not being massaged and juts it into Seonwoo's side as he says, "Maybe because I care about other people? Ever thought about that? Caring for someone?"
Seonwoo just stares down at him.
"Guess that's a foreign concept for you, but if I start slacking, it's not just me that's going down."
"That doesn't mean we need to be telling everyone our business."
"Our?"
"You and I", Seonwoo says pointedly. Maru stares at him, wondering where this is going.
"So I'm not the only one who doesn't mean what they say."
Seonwoo's eyes narrow, with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "You want to turn this into some kind of group project? Invite Kang Chana while you're at it, since you seem to like her attention so much."
Maru balks at this. "What?!" Is this asshole for real? Why is he bringing Chana into the conversation?
"Do you think..." he leans in further and stretches Maru's leg back. Pulls back the towel off Maru's head to see him more clearly.
"That anyone else could take care of you better than me?" The lower register in Seonwoo's voice gives him pause.
Defensively, Maru quips, "I-I can take care of myself just fine." Seonwoo rubs at his head with the towel, but Maru knows he's just using it as an excuse to touch him. The hand massaging the bottom of his feet slink down, his protected fingers spread wide and ghost over his abdomen.
He can feel the pressure of the gloved digits through his thin shirt, and Seonwoo makes it worse by actually planting his palm down, the heel of his palm threatening to tug at his waistband.
Maru's stomach clenches as he sits up on his elbows, wide eyed, towel slowly sliding off his head. Seonwoo's hand goes to catch it before it falls, and effortlessly slinks to cradle the back of his neck. Maru's lip twitches.
"Really?" Seonwoo's irritating smirk is ever present.
"Yeah." Maru swallows.
"And how's that working out for you?" Seonwoo's hand doesn't move, but seeing the black gloved hand pressed against his stomach makes him feel dizzy. He can't feel the temperature of Seonwoo's hand, so the heat he feels is just his own body reacting.
"It's working out just fine", Maru grits. Seonwoo slides his face in closer to Maru, making him freeze. He takes the hand behind Maru's neck and inches it towards his jaw.
"Didn't seem like it was working out a few days ago", Seonwoo tuts.
"I-I was just.. it was in the heat of the moment...", Maru falters.
"And if you're into the 'heat of the moment' later? Then what?"
Maru considers this, tight lipped. Maybe for a beat too long, because Seonwoo says,
"Should we make a bet?"
"What?"
Seonwoo is so close their lips could touch. He taps Maru instead, forehead to forehead. Whispers, "I bet...you can't last more than a week without me."
Maru can feel a vein throbbing in his head. Or maybe it's his dick.
"What?" He repeats.
"Same time next week, and you'll be begging for me." Maru shuts his eyes, clenches his jaw.
"How shameless do you think I am?”
"I enjoy seeing you give into your urges. Seems like you do it often." Seonwoo's finger rubs against Maru's jaw, and Maru clamps his mouth shut for fear of what will come out.
Seonwoo gazes down where his fingers press against Maru's skin. "Out on the field, your energy really shifts. When you're really focused on something, you have this look in your eye. I'd hate to be your enemy..."
Maru's mouth opens in shock. A genuine compliment from Seonwoo? But mentally shakes his head. No, no, it's only because he's trying to get in my pants.
Seonwoo pokes Maru’s belly button, and he jumps, not realizing he had stretched his shirt above his midsection.
"What..." Maru squeaks. Clears his throat and tries again. "What's the prize?"
"Are you aiming for gold this time?"
"There's no other option."
"Well..." Seonwoo cocks his head as he ponders. "Loser does anything the winner wants for a week."
"A week?!"
"Yeah, why not?"
"That's way too long!"
"Are you scared you'll lose? I won't be that harsh on you." But Seonwoo's smile says otherwise.
"One day", Maru suggests.
"Three days."
"Two."
"Fine."
As they lord over the conditions that both parties will agree on, the tense air seems to dissipate, as they clasp their hands in a firm handshake to seal the deal.
Seonwoo stands up, releasing Maru from his grasp, seemingly satisfied with this. Maru feels the unease lift just slightly off his shoulders, determination already starting to peak through at the thought of Seonwoo doing whatever Maru wants...
He tucks that thought in for another day.
The weight lifts off from the couch as Seonwoo takes his warmth with him. He makes his way to the kitchen, and almost abruptly asks, “Have you eaten yet?”
It's stupid how a simple question like that comforts him. Makes him feel warm inside, that Seonwoo considers him during moments of his daily routine.
But the looming threat of being bested by Seonwoo, and the potential humiliation of it all is enough for him to start building some proper distance.
So Maru lies with a simple "Yeah, I ate already", even with the threatening chance that his own stomach will growl loudly at the prospect of food. But it doesn't, so he makes his way upstairs, to sleep in his own room, and definitely doesn't touch himself to the thought of any certain man in a suit and gloves.
Whether his lie actually convinces Seonwoo doesn't matter that much. It might actually be better for Seonwoo to know that Maru is going to do whatever it takes to win. Seonwoo had become an irritatingly accurate lie detector, but the blue-haired man wouldn’t fuss over Maru like a child. They were both almost 30, after all. He could take care of himself.
Maru decidedly times his jack-off sessions when Seonwoo is NOT in the apartment with him. He hadn't forgotten the fact that Seonwoo basically told him he could hear him jerking off, despite their rooms being a hallway apart. He could have just been teasing, but it was true that Maru had urges, and took care of them on his own. Not only that, after realizing all of his recent...releases, were because of Seonwoo somebody, he had to take matters into his own hands. Literally.
Rinse and repeat.
It was easy. (It was not easy.)
It was clean. (His bedsheets became stained with his own sweat and cum).
But when he could feel his pleasure cresting under the blanket, under the touch of his own hands, he could hear himself growling. It was a deep rumble in his chest, and the unexpected increase in desperation had him clawing at the sheets, arching his back, stomach clenching.
He eventually reached his release, but only after a tiring, methodical strain and pump of his hands. It didn't bring the same heat, that same feeling that constricted his chest and made him dizzy, the way Seonwoo would-
Maru sits up with a jolt.
He swears he hears shuffling, but when he’s tucked himself back in and finished washing his hands, there isn’t a peep from downstairs. He doesn’t feel any presence near him either. He’s still the only person in the apartment.
Maru silently scolds himself, the realization sinking further than he's made a bet. With Seonwoo. A hefty one, with some real consequences that might dig him further in a hole that he's not sure he'll be able to get out it. Doesn’t want to think of any of the humiliating things that asshole would have him do. Definitely doesn’t think about how it gives him goosebumps.
He finds his way into Seonwoo’s closet, brushes his hands against the suit jackets, the several slightly different shades of button-up shirts, and he sees them.
Folded neatly, left over right, a pair of black gloves. A mixture of cotton and spandex. Not one of the accessorized ones with any brooch or belt, just one of Seonwoo’s daily work gloves. He actually has a bin full of them.
Maru glides his hand over the outside of the gloves. Feels the texture of the cotton, examines the natural aging from constant wear. These are gloves that Seonwoo has worked in. Gloves he’s used to fight with, a protective layer that’s surprisingly more thin than Maru thought.
His pace quickens as he finds the entryway of the gloves, and slides his hand in one, using it to slide the other hand in right after.
There's a small gap of space at the fingertips, but the fabric wraps tight against his palm. His hands are larger than Seonwoo's, after all, but his fingers are shorter. He squeezes his hands, and the fabric encases them like a hug. Maru thinks it’s quite impressive that Seonwoo manages to wear them daily without a fuss.
The hands in front of him are still his, but the grip and encasing makes it feel like an illusion. Maru moves, without thinking. Takes an extra pair of gloves from the bin, places it the way he remembers on top of the drawer. Walks an extra pace faster into his room, and locks the door.
He slides down with his back to the door, not even making it to the bed before he grips his forearm, tentatively massaging around the muscle. Drops his head to his knees. What the fuck am I doing?
But he’s started and can’t stop.
Slides his right hand over the plane of his neck, and squeezes with a firmness that reminds him of how Seonwoo does it. Thumb and fingers grounding him.
What would he say, if he saw Maru like this? His jaw twitches at the thought, and his pants feel too tight for comfort.
He imagines Seonwoo’s voice raking down, lips pressed against his skin, teeth grazing the surface. The swole of his hands mapping all over him, imagines him saying, Filthy dog. Using me to get off.
He palms himself through the pants, a shudder wracking through him at the sight of his hands wrapped in Seonwoo’s gloves.
You poor thing.
He imagines Seonwoo pushing him into the bed, a firm grip on his neck, his cheek pressed against the mattress, the hand being replaced with a wet mouth that sucks hickeys into his neck and licks the shell of his ear.
Filthy mutt, the voice repeats. Drooling all over the place.
A sleuth of pet names come up in an ambiguous wave. Rather, the vision of his piercing gaze, eyes that bore into his soul and threaten to tear out his heart.
Maru pulls himself out of his sweatpants, a small spot in the inner layer of his underwear wet with precum. Grabs himself with a shaky hand, feels the fabric of the glove getting wet with it and heat coils in his gut.
Pumping up, down, a crest of pleasure hits. His head drops forward, and the excruciating coil of heat waves up from the bottom of his feet to the top of his skull. He could cum right then, but lets himself go to feel the burn of the edge. Gets to the point but stops right before, sharp. It winds him up, cords fuzzy, leaving him breathless and skin tingling.
He imagines what Seonwoo would tell him to do.
Bend over.
He does, using the slick of his precum to rub at his own rim. His pants lower down to his knees as he lets his head hit the carpet with a dull thud, pressing his cheek to the floor.
A voice in his head echos, I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers. You don’t get to have my cock in you. You don’t deserve it.
A whine bubbles out, one he can’t recognize. It trembles as it exits his mouth. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bet you like it deep and hard, you slut. Want me to break you open with my cock? The Seonwoo in his mind feels meaner, but it ramps him up more.
He’s tried to find that spot before, and there isn’t anything different except for the thoughts in his head that heats up his blood. Spreads his legs to get a good opening, and he pushes one finger in, feeling the burn and tingle.
His eyes flutter, and he lets them close as he exhales shakily.
Maru only has enough energy left for one release, the previously methodical pumps having him spent. But he lets it linger for as long as possible. Savors it. Feels the voices in his head fill him up as if he really has Seonwoo thrusting into him—but it’s just his own fingers wrapped up in delusion.
He's at the arch, and like a whip, he pulls his fingers out completely and feels the way the orgasm retreats, but still lingers around the corner.
He takes himself to the edge again, pulls his fingers out completely to feel the emptiness, and scissors his fingers back in to hear the lewd squelching, pumping his cock with his other hand. The heat builds up again in that distinctive way.
When he lets go, it’s from the last remnants of what his mind conjures up to push him past. Scenes of hot skin, strong biceps, lean legs, and a cocky smile flash through his mind. Until his vision blurs, he sees stars, and he’s made a mess of drooling into the floor just as much as he’s made a mess of Seonwoo’s gloves.