Work Text:
The storm outside was relentless, turning the panoramic view of the city into a blurred, shifting canvas of charcoal grey and flickering neon.
Inside the 40th-floor office, the silence was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic click-clack of keys and the distant, muffled rumble of thunder.
Earlier that evening, the conversation between them had been a series of disjointed, urgent pings on their phones.
Heeseung:
Are you still at the office?
[7:42 PM]
Jake:
Crushed by deadlines. Don't wait up, it's going to be a long night.
[7:44 PM]
Heeseung:
I’m not going to sleep alone while you’re drowning in spreadsheets. I’m coming over.
[7:45 PM]
Jake:
Heeseung, seriously, don't. It's a mess here. I'm not fit for human company.
[7:47 PM]
Heeseung:
Good thing I’m not looking for human company. I’m looking for you.
[7:48 PM]
Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair, though he didn't pull himself away from the glow of the dual monitors.
He was hunched over his mahogany desk, the harsh light illuminating the sharp line of his jaw and the slight furrow between his brows.
His tie was long gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, exposing the pale skin of his throat. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing veins that stood out against his forearms as he typed with frantic, calculated precision
He was so deeply submerged in the work—the spreadsheets, the deadlines, the sheer pressure of the project—that he hadn’t noticed the elevator dings in the lobby or the soft, synchronized thud of footsteps approaching the glass partition of his corner office.
Heeseung stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim, ambient light of the outer hallway. He didn't speak. He just leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the sight.
It was, objectively, a terrible time to be working.
But for Heeseung, looking at Jake—so focused, so disheveled, and so completely unaware of how stunning he looked while stressed—a strange, possessive heat started to coil in his gut.
The office smelled of stale coffee and rain-cooled air, a stark, clinical environment that made the sudden, sharp spike of attraction he felt for his partner feel even more illicit.
Heeseung pushed off the doorframe, his loafers making no sound on the plush carpeting as he stepped into the office. He didn't call out; he simply walked until he was standing directly behind Jake’s chair.
He watched the way Jake’s shoulders tensed as he reached the end of a long email, his fingers hovering over the 'send' key.
"You know," Heeseung murmured, his voice low and vibrating just behind Jake's ear, "the office policy strictly prohibits keeping such an attractive employee after hours."
Jake jumped, his hand slipping from the mouse as he swiveled the chair around, blinking up at Heeseung with wide, unfocused eyes that slowly cleared as recognition set in.
"Heeseung? What are you—how did you even get past security?"
Heeseung didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, his thumb catching the edge of Jake’s chin, his gaze dropping to the exposed skin at the base of Jake’s throat.
"I have my ways. But that’s not important."
He let his fingers trail down, resting lightly on Jake’s shoulder, feeling the heat radiating through the thin fabric of the shirt.
"What’s important is that you’re going to stop working, and you’re going to look at me instead."
Jake let out a shaky, breathless laugh, his eyes darkening as he leaned back into the chair, his posture loosening just enough to betray how much he had actually been missing this.
"I'm almost finished," he whispered, though he made no move to return to his screens. "Ten more minutes."
"You don't have ten more minutes," Heeseung said, his voice dropping another octave.
He stepped between the V of Jake's legs, hands heavy on the armrests of Jake's chair, essentially boxing him in.
"You've used up all your time."
Jake searched Heeseung’s eyes for a sign of a joke, but found only a dangerous, grounded intensity.
"Ten minutes, Heeseung.. Pleasee," Jake pressed, his voice coming out a little breathless.
He reached up, placing his hands on Heeseung’s chest to create a fraction of space, though he couldn't help but feel the solid, steady thrum of Heeseung’s heart against his palms.
"If I don't submit these final projections, I'll be back here at dawn. Just.... let me finish this section. I’ll make it up to you, I promise."
Heeseung let out a soft, low chuckle that vibrated through the small space between them.
He didn't move away, but he did drop his hand to Jake’s waist, his grip firm and proprietary.
"You always think you can bribe me with promises of later, Jake. But I'm tired of 'later.' I want 'now'."
"Five minutes," Jake bartered, his eyes darting behind to the computer screen and back again.
Heeseung’s expression softened into that lazy, charismatic smirk that always managed to dismantle Jake’s defenses, he leaned down until his forehead rested against Jake’s temple.
"You’re an impossible man," he murmured, his breath ghosting over Jake’s cheek.
"You keep talking about spreadsheets, and all I can think about is how much better you’d look if you weren't wearing that shirt."
Jake blinked, surprised, bit his lower lip, —a nervous, subconscious habit that made his mouth look flushed and swollen.
It was a sight that made Heeseung’s blood run hot. He watched the way Jake’s teeth sank into the tender flesh.
It was maddening how oblivious he was.
Jake looked so capable, so sharp and professional, yet there was a vulnerability to the way his knuckles were white from gripping his shirt.
"HeeSeungg!!", Jake warned.
Heeseung, satisfied, smiled and stepped back. "Fine, Five minutes. But I’m not leaving."
Heeseung pulled a spare chair over, dragging it close enough that their knees brushed. He sat, crossing one leg over the other, and forced himself to watch.
Or, that was the plan.
At first, it was agonizingly professional.
Jake typed.
Heeseung watched.
But soon, Heeseung found himself mesmerized by the sharp, desperate intensity of Jake’s profile.
He watched the way the overhead fluorescent light caught the stray strands of hair falling over Jake’s forehead. He watched the rigid, disciplined set of his shoulders, and the way Jake’s tongue occasionally darted out to dampen his dry lips.
He was struck, as he often was, by the sheer, unadulterated focus Jake poured into everything.
Then, the focus intensified.
Jake bit down on his lower lip—a small, unconscious habit that sent a shockwave of heat straight through Heeseung.
Heeseung's throat went dry.
His jaw tightened, his gaze darkened, as he watched that lip—reddened now from the friction of Jake’s teet.
Oh God.., he thought.
The way Jake looked when he was completely surrendered to his work.
The vulnerability in his posture, the slight flush on his cheeks.
It was.. beautiful.
Heeseung felt a possessive ache in his chest, a desperate need to tear Jake’s attention away from the glowing screen and make it solely his own.
He wanted to reach out and pull that lower lip from between Jake's teeth, to taste the frustration there, to ruin the focus that was currently stealing Jake away from him.
Minutes passed.
Heeseung was a creature of impulse, and watching Jake work was torture.
He found his gaze constantly snagging on the column of Jake’s throat, watching the swallow when he read something particularly frustrating.
The silence of the office, once professional, now felt like a vacuum waiting to be filled.
Heeseung let his hand wander, fingers tracing the line of Jake’s thigh under the desk, his touch light, teasing, and calculated to distract.
You know," Heeseung drawled, his voice a smooth, dangerous silk, "the way your glasses catch the monitor light makes you look far too serious for a man who is currently trembling because I’m touching your leg."
Jake’s fingers faltered on the keys. "Heeseung, stop."
"Stop what?" Heeseung leaned in, his free hand moving to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Jake’s ear, his fingers lingering there to stroke the sensitive skin of his lobe.
"I’m just being a supportive partner. Helping you stay... motivated."
Heeseung’s eyes darkened as he watched Jake struggle to focus, the way his breath came in short, jagged hitches every time Heeseung’s thumb grazed the inner seam of his trousers.
God, he’s perfect like this.
Heeseung thought, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Stressed, flushed, and completely at my mercy.
"You’re doing great," Heeseung whispered, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register that always made Jake’s resolve crumble.
He leaned over, his lips brushing the shell of Jake’s ear, his hand sliding further up the firm muscle of Jake’s thigh.
"But tell me—is that report really more important than what I have planned for you tonight?"
Jake stopped typing entirely.
"Heeseung! , I’m trying to finish this!".
"Then finish it".
"You- you are distracting!".
"I’m just observing".
Heeseung's hand moving to brush a lock of hair away from Jake’s forehead.
He lingered there, his thumb tracing the arch of Jake’s brow, then trailing down to his cheekbone.
"It’s fascinating, really. Watching you get so worked up over numbers. You look...
He leaned closer, sending a jolt of pure electricity through jake.
"...so incredibly stressed. I wonder if you even remember what it feels like to have someone else’s hands on you instead of a keyboard."
Jake's breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound in the quiet room.
"Heeseung... seriously, stop. I have to finish this section."
"No, you don't."
Heeseung's hand tightening on Jake’s thigh, his touch turning from a caress into something more demanding, a firm, possessive squeeze.
He leaned his weight in, forcing Jake to turn slightly toward him.
"Forget the report, Jake. The office is empty. The storm is covering our tracks. And I haven't been able to keep my hands off you since i walked through the door."
Jake’s hand finally dropped from the keys, his fingers curling into the fabric of Heeseung’s coat.
He turned his head, his gaze finally leaving the screen to meet Heeseung’s—dark, dilated, and clearly losing the battle for focus.
"Heeseung," Jake warned, though the word came out as more of a surrender than a rebuke.
"Stop working," Heeseung whispered, his fingers dipping into the open collar of Jake’s shirt. "Or I’ll make sure you can’t focus on anything else for the rest of the night."
He dragged his knuckles against the sensitive skin of Jake's collarbone, watching with smug satisfaction as Jake’s head fell back, exposing his throat completely.
Jake's resolve was hanging by a thread, his brain still clinging to the phantom obligations of the project.
"Heeseung, just... just two more minutes to hit send on the draft, and then I’m all yours, I swear. Just two minutes to clear my queue so I don—"
The words died in his throat.
On pure predatory instinct, Heeseung had surged forward. His mouth finding the sensitive, pulsing skin of Jake’s throat.
He didn't kiss him gently; it was an act of raw, possessive hunger. His lips were hot, his teeth grazing the side of Jake's neck with just enough pressure to leave a mark, a silent declaration that he was claiming every inch of him.
Jake’s breath hitched, turning into a sharp, jagged gasp that echoed slightly in the quiet office.
His sentence was replaced by a low, melodic moan that he couldn't quite suppress.
His back arched instinctively, his fingers white-knuckled as they bunched the fabric of Heeseung’s coat, to drag him closer or to push him away.
The professional world—the spreadsheets, the deadline, the looming threat of the project vanished—Incinerated by the sudden, overwhelming intensity of Heeseung’s mouth on his skin.
Heeseung let out a low rumble against Jake’s pulse point, his hands sliding up to grip Jake’s hips, anchoring him firmly in his desk cchair. He moved with a practiced, predatory grace, his tongue tracing the line of Jake’s jaw before he nipped firmly at his earlobe, his voice a gravelly whisper.
"The draft can wait until morning,"
Heeseung murmured against his skin, his hands sliding down, his fingers pressing into the fabric at the waistband of Jake’s trousers, his intent crystal clear.
"You, however, are overdue."
As the cool, metallic click of his belt buckle sounded in the quiet office, the reality of their location crashed back into Jake’s consciousness like a physical blow.
A jolt of pure, unadulterated panic surged through Jake’s veins, slicing through the hazy fog of his arousal.
The adrenaline that had been fueling his desire suddenly twisted into a sharp, jagged spike of alarm.
Jake’s hands shot out, his hands flying down to clamp firmly over heeseung's wrists, his breath hitching in a frantic, uneven rhythm.
"Heeseung, wait—stop!" he gasped.
His eyes were wide, darting frantically toward the glass partition of the office and the dark, empty corridor beyond.
His knuckles were white from the pressure of his grip, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure.
"The- the guard makes rounds on this floor at 11:00 pm... H-He could walk in—literally, anyone could just walk right in."
His fingers were trembling as he gripped Heeseung’s wrists, trying to force him away from his waistband.
The sound of rain lashing against the windows was suddenly deafening, and every distant creak of the building sounded like footsteps approaching the door.
"We’re on the fortieth floor, Heeseung, this is outrageous," Jake breathed, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs that he was sure Heeseung could feel it through their clothes.
He was flushed, breathless, and clearly aching for more, but the fear of being caught in such a professional, exposed setting was making his skin crawl.
"If the security team sees us like this, I'll be fired. Or worse."
Heeseung paused, his hands still trapped beneath Jake’s, his palms pressed flat against the front of Jake’s slacks.
He didn't pull away. Instead, he simply held his gaze locking onto Jake’s with a mixture of amusement and heavy, simmering hunger.
"We have a long time, and you know exactly how to be quiet when you need to be."
Heeseung's voice remained infuriatingly calm.
He leaned in, his forehead resting against Jake’s, his hot breath ghosting over Jake’s parted, shaky lips.
"Are you really going to tell me you want me to stop?"
Jake’s grip on Heeseung’s wrists slackened. He looked at the door, then back at Heeseung’s darkened eyes, the thrill of the danger beginning to override the fear.
He was trapped.
By the desk, by the situation, and most of all, by the man currently refusing to let him go.
Jake looked at Heeseung, his eyes wide and pleading, the darkness of his pupils fighting against the logic of his survival instinct. "Please," he whispered, his hands sliding down to Heeseung’s forearms, holding him steady.
"I want this, you know I want this, but not here. Not like this."
Heeseung froze. He looked at Jake—at the genuine, mounting panic mingling with the raw hunger on his face, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy, rhythmic thrum of the storm outside.
"You’re really going to make me stop, aren't you?".
Heeseung murmured, his voice tight with his own barely contained frustration.
"I have to," Jake breathed, his voice barely audible.
Heeseung sighed, a sound of heavy, frustrated surrender, and began to shift his weight back. But the movement was cut short.
A sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap echoed from the outer hallway—the unmistakable sound of firm-soled shoes hitting the marble floors.
It wasn't distant. It was purposeful. Growing louder with every beat of Jake’s racing heart.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
IT WAS THE NIGHT SECURITY GUARD.
Jake’s blood turned to ice.
"Oh god," he hissed, his voice a frantic whisper. "He’s early."
The office was restricted—
If security found an unauthorized person in a high-level executive suite during a midnight crunch session, the fallout would be catastrophic for his career.
Panic flared, hot and sharp, in his chest, his eyes widening in pure, unadulterated terror.
"Heeseung, you are not supposed to be here—if you get caught, if we get caught, I’m done. I'll be fired. Or worse, they’ll call the police. You have to go, now!"
Heeseung, however, seemed entirely unbothered, his eyes dancing with a maddening, playful glint.
He simply leaned back against the mahogany desk, his arms crossing over his chest with an infuriatingly lazy smirk.
He looked at the encroaching shadows in the hallway as if they were nothing more than an interesting backdrop.
"And miss the show? I think I'll stay right here."
"Are you insane!? This is a massive security breach!!".
"Relax, Jakey. Maybe he’s just here to check the coffee machine."
"Heeseung, I’m serious!"
"Are you?"
"This isn't a joke!"
..*smirks*
"Please, Hee, if they see you, it’s over. Just hide!"
.."Where?"
"The supply closet, under the desk, behind the server rack. Anywhere!"
"Fine, I'll hide.
*sighs in relief–
But—"
"What now!"
"If you want me to disappear, it’ll cost you."
"Cost me? Are you joking right now!?"
"One kiss."
"Are you serious!?, We are literally seconds away from a disaster and you're—"
"One decent kiss, and I'll vanish. Or I stay right here and say hello."
"You're impossible."
"The choice is yours."
Jake let out a strangled sound of frustration. Neither did he have a choice nor did he have the time to argue. Terrified, he lunged forward, grabbing the lapels of Heeseung’s coat, and pressed a hasty, frantic, panicked peck to his lips.
"There! Now GO and HIDE!"
Heeseung didn't budge. Smirked. Clearly unimpressed. He hummed, a low, vibrating sound of mock dissatisfaction.
"That? That was barely a breath of air. That’s not going to keep me quiet, Jake."
"Heeseung—!"
Before Jake could protest, Heeseung’s hands shot out, wrapping around Jake’s waist. He pulled him in with a sudden, powerful force, effectively silencing Jake’s next frantic words with his own mouth.
It wasn't a hurried, scared gesture anymore; it was deep, deliberate, and agonizingly sensational.
Heeseung’s lips moved against Jake's with a possessive, molten heat that bypassed Jake’s logic entirely.
Jake went rigid.
The kiss was like a sudden drop in a roller coaster—
It was deep, agonizingly slow, and heavy with a possessiveness that made the floor beneath Jake’s feet feel like it was dissolving.
His stomach plummeted, his senses exploded, and the terrifying reality of the approaching guard faded into a distant, muffled hum.
Heeseung didn't just kiss him; he consumed him.
He tilted Jake’s head back, his tongue swiped against Jake’s lower lip, coaxing it open.
Jake gasped into the kiss and heeseung took the advantage to plunge his tongue into the warmth of Jake's mouth.
Jake let out a soft, involuntary moan.
Heeseung's hands slid up to cup Jake’s face. Holding him captive, as their tongues mingled and danced in rhythm.
The sensation was overwhelming—
The taste of Heeseung’s cologne, the firm, demanding pressure of his mouth, and the way he seemed to drain the very air from Jake’s lungs.
Jake’s knees turned to water, his fingers, initially gripping Heeseung’s shoulders in panic, slackened and drifted up to bury themselves in Heeseung’s hair, dragging him closer or pushing him away.
Heeseung deepened the kiss, his lips bruising and soft, his tongue tasting every inch of Jake’s mouth with a predatory hunger that made Jake’s knees buckle against the desk.
His hands roamed—firm palms pressing against the small of Jake’s back, fingers splaying across his shoulder blades, pulling him so flush that Jake could feel the frantic, rhythmic thud of Heeseung’s heart against his own.
It was a kiss that tasted of danger and indulgence, fueled by the adrenaline of intoxicating force of Heeseung’s control. A complete sensory overload that made Jake’s vision swim.
Then, the sound of footsteps stopped, followed by a CREAK. The handle of the door began to turn.
Jake’s senses snapped back. He began to shove at Heeseung’s chest, frantic and breathless.
But Heeseung only intensified the pressure, a smug, satisfied smirk visible even against Jake’s lips.
Jake, defeated, squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body bracing for the inevitable. His heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, as he thought:
This is it.
I’m fired.
I’m doomed.
This is the 'end'.
He was already mentally drafting his resignation letter when, at the final, heart-stopping second—
Heeseung pulled away.
The abrupt absence of warmth left Jake reeling, standing in the middle of his office, flushed, lips swollen, and utterly dazed.
With a final, taunting wink, Heeseung stepped back, slipping into the narrow, darkened gap between the server rack and the structural pillar.
Jake stood frozen for a heartbeat, his brain short-circuiting.
Then, the door handle began to turn.
With a ragged breath, Jake lunged for his mouse, his fingers shaking so violently he almost knocked his coffee over.
He forced his eyes onto the screen, staring blindly at a column of numbers he couldn't comprehend.
Just a normal employee working late..
He chanted internally, though his mind was a shattered mess, still reeling from the phantom sensation of Heeseung’s tongue against his.
The door creaked open. A flashlight beam swept across the room before settling on Jake.
"Mr. Sim? Working overtime again?"
The voice of the night security guard, old and gravelly, pulled Jake out of his daze.
He blinked, his vision swimming for a split second before he managed to anchor his gaze on the glowing screen.
"Uh—yes", Jake managed to choke out, his voice sounding thin and foreign to his own ears. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his trembling hands on the mouse.
"Just... just wrapping up some final edits. The deadline, you know how it is."
Behind the server rack, tucked into the shadows, Jake could feel exactly what Heeseung was doing—
Probably leaning against the pillar, arms crossed, watching the entire interaction with that maddeningly smug look on his face.
I am going to kill him.
Jake thought, his stomach twisting into a knot of sheer fury.
I am going to strangle him with his own tie.
If I lose this job, I am making his life a living hell for the next decade.
He is a menace, an absolute, narcissistic menace.
The guard chuckled, stepping further, glancing toward the dark corner where Heeseung was hidden.
Jake’s breath hitched, his entire body bracing for the inevitable discovery.
He’s going to see him.
Oh god, he’s going to see his shoes.
Please, just look at the floor, don't look at the pillar.
The guard just shook his head sympathetically.
"Don't burn yourself out, kid. The building's closing up in Fifteen minutes. I'll be finishing my final round on the 41st, so make sure you're out by then."
"I will," Jake promised, his voice cracking slightly. "I'll be out."
As the guard turned and walked back out into the hallway, his footsteps receding into the distance, Jake finally let his shoulders drop. He exhaled a long, shaky breath, closing his eyes for a bit.
One second, he’s the absolute worst person I’ve ever met....
Jake’s mind spiraled, his anger suddenly evaporating and being replaced by a liquid, aching heat.
And the next..... god, how did that feel so good?
He couldn't stop it; his mind betrayed him.
He kept replaying that last, deep, bruising kiss, thinking, as his hand subconsciously rise to touch his own lower lip, which still throbbed with a dull, pleasurable ache.
I should be furious.
I should be shaking with rage.
Instead, I’m sitting here, practically vibrating because I can still feel his hands on me.
A low, teasing whistle cut through the quiet, followed by a silky, infuriatingly relaxed voice.
"Close call, wouldn't you say?"
Jake’s eyes snapped open, his heart jumping into his throat for an entirely different reason now.
Heeseung emerged from the shadows behind the server rack, moving with a fluid, casual grace.
He leaned against the edge of the desk, looking down at Jake with a soft, lopsided smirk that made Jake’s head spin.
He looked like someone who had just enjoyed a Five star meal rather than someone who had nearly cost Jake his entire career.
Jake felt the heat of his blush flare up again, but this time, it was fueled by pure, unadulterated indignation.
"Close call, my foot!" he snapped, his voice rising in a sharp, incredulous hiss, his hands clenching into fists on the desk.
"You," Jake continued, pointing a finger at heeseung's chest, his voice trembling—partly from the adrenaline, partly from the sheer audacity of the man.
"You were enjoying that, weren't you? You were literally kissing me while the security guard was standing at the door!"
"What can I say? I like living on the edge. It makes the adrenaline taste so much better."
"You practically wanted him to find us!"
"Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d keep your promise about being quiet."
"Do you have any idea how close he came to seeing you!?"
"But he didn't, did he? And the thrill, Jakey... I saw it in your eyes. You loved itas much as I did."
"I did not love it!"
*grins & shrugs unbothered*
"You are an absolute nightmare. A literal, walking disaster."
"I'm a man with priorities. And watching you panic while I had my hands on you?.....That’s definitely high on the list."
*blushes*
Um— wait..
"It’s not a game, Heeseung! It’s my job.
Heeseung just let out a soft, delighted laugh, as if Jake’s scolding was the most charming thing he’d ever heard.
Jake, once again, defeated, pulled his hand away.
Calm down, Jake.
He stood up, gesturing toward the hallway.
Okay. "The guard said fifteen minutes, it's the perfect time for you to sneak out. You need to go. Now!"
Heeseung didn't move immediately. Instead, he leaned down, his face hovering just inches from Jake’s, his eyes dark and hungry as they traced the swollen line of Jake’s lips.
"You’re kicking me out?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive, velvety register.
Jake's breath hitched. Out of all things, his mind drifted back to how that kiss felt.
Oh god, please have mercy.
"I—I'm—". He started, flustered.
"After all that build-up, you’re just going to send me to wait in the cold?"
Heeseung was having fun, watching Jake's resolve crumble.
Jake tried to regain his composure.
He's just testing my limits. Breathe, jake. BREATHE.
"I'm sending you to wait in the car so I don't lose my job." He managed to retort, though his voice wavered and his eyes darted to heeseung's lips.
"Please, heeseung... Just go".
Heeseung stood his ground for a moment. He looked like he was about to argue, to suggest something else that would make Jake’s blood pressure climb even higher, but then he simply hummed.
Invading Jake’s personal space just long enough to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, his fingers lingering on Jake’s temple.
"Fine," Heeseung whispered, his voice dropping to that dangerous, velvet tone that always made Jake’s knees feel weak.
"I'll go. But don't take too long, Jake. You’ve already gotten me worked up, and I don't think I can handle sitting in a quiet car alone for very long."
As Heeseung’s footsteps faded into the quiet of the office, Jake slumped back into his chair, the silence suddenly feeling deafening, his body still humming with the lingering, maddening ghost of Heeseung’s touch.