Wine And Other Things.

The days that followed were anything but quiet.

At first, their messages stayed soft and flirtatious. Just good mornings and late-night check-ins. But by the second day, something in Tae-hyun had shifted and Joon-won noticed.

Tae:

'Did you sleep well? Or did you think about my question the whole night?'

Joon:

'You're relentless.'

Tae:

'You haven't blocked me yet. So that's basically a yes.'

It became their rhythm, Joon sending sharp-eyed selfies from his office, tie loose and brows drawn like he hadn't slept, and Tae replying with voice notes, each more suggestive than the last. Sometimes his voice would drop low, teasing. Sometimes he'd sound sweet, innocent… and then ruin it with a closing line that made Joon-won cover his face at his desk.

"Why do you want to top me so bad, huh?"

Joon had asked it during one of their late-night calls, his voice hoarse with sleep and curiosity.

"You're the one who told me you were more of a sub."

Tae was quiet for a second. Then he laughed.

"I am. Mostly. You bring that out in me."

There was a pause.

"But that night… when I was riding you and you looked up at me like that… breathing hard, gripping my thighs like you were going to lose your mind…"

"Tae—"

"That did something to me."

His tone had dropped.

"You think I didn't notice the way your body reacted when I took control?"

"You think I didn't feel how deep you got off on it?"

"It's not just that I want to top you. It's that you looked like you'd break if I did."

Joon-won had gone completely silent on the line. Long enough that Tae laughed.

"You keep saying I'm the submissive one," Tae said. "And maybe I am… most of the time."

Joon-Won shifted against the pillows, his breath uneven.

"Most of the time?"

Tae chuckled.

"Yeah. See, I've always been a switch, I didn't say I wasn't. You just bring out that softer side of me. But that night? When I was on top of you, and I saw your your face all flushed, lips parted eyes lidded…?"

"Tae."

"That changed something in me. Or maybe it just reminded me what I like."

"So this is new to me, not to you?"

"Exactly," Tae hummed. "Don't worry. I'll go easy on you. At first."

"…You're dangerous."

Tae-hyun only smiled into the phone and whispered,

"You haven't seen dangerous yet."

From that moment on, he got bolder.

Some days it was a photo of his hand gripping Joon's hoodie, captioned:

Tae:

'Still smells like you, I'm keeping it.'

Other times, it was a message at 2 AM:

Tae:

'If I told you to get on your knees for me right now, would you?'

Joon never answered those directly. But he never told him to stop either.

⸻

Meanwhile…

Joon-won's dynamic with Ha-eun remained calm. Respectful. Quiet.

They had agreed on space, and they were keeping to it. But some evenings, usually when the apartment felt too still, one of them would text the other.

Ha-eun:

'When I dropped Eun-woo at kindergarten today, he brought that little dinosaur plushie you got him last month. It's all worn out already.'

Joon:

'He sleeps with it every night, doesn't he?'

Ha-eun:

'He does. He misses you, by the way. You should come by soon.'

There was no guilt in her tone. No pressure. Just warmth. Familiarity.

Joon:

'I was thinking the same. I'll come see him this weekend. Maybe watch a movie together.'

Ha-eun:

'Of course. He will love that. He's been telling everyone you're "on a big mission" and will be back soon.'

Joon smiled at the message for longer than he meant to. Typing and deleting his next words more than once before finally sending:

Joon:

'Tell him I miss him, too.'

.

.

Saturday Afternoon.

Joon-Won was back at the house.

He hadn't seen them in six days.

That was the longest he'd gone without Ha-eun's voice and without his son's arms wrapping tightly around his neck like they'd never let go. But when he stepped into the house, the one filled with soft toys, the faint scent of Ha-eun's shampoo, and half-folded laundry the ache in his chest hit harder than expected.

"Appaaaa!"

Tiny feet thundered across the floor before his son crashed into him like a missile, arms locking around his waist, face buried in Joon's stomach.

Joon dropped to one knee and hugged him tightly. For a moment, everything else stilled.

Ha-eun stood in the hallway, smiling. Her face was clean, fresh, but a little tired around the eyes. "Hey," she said softly.

Joon smiled back, brushing their son's hair aside. "Hey."

They didn't talk much about why he was visiting, they didn't need. Instead, they built a blanket fort, watched animated movies, ordered delivery, and laughed over how their son had started calling soy sauce "chocolate sauce for grown-ups."

He noticed the kid didn't ask why his dad hadn't been sleeping at home.

Didn't ask why there were two toothbrushes in the bathroom instead of three.

He just smiled. Played. Kept them both close.

⸻

Later that evening, when their son had fallen asleep on the couch between them, wrapped in a cartoon-themed blanket, Joon turned slightly toward Ha-eun.

"You holding up okay?"

She shrugged gently, rubbing her thumb over the edge of the glass she was holding. "It's weird. But manageable. Seo-yeon's been keeping me company here and there. I've seen Tae-hyun a few times too, when he gets off work."

At the sound of that name, Joon felt his body subtly shift. A quiet, almost imperceptible pulse under his skin.

He glanced down at his phone, unlocked it with a quick flick, then typed casually as he spoke again.

"You've been going over there?"

"Mmhmm. Mostly just girl talk. Wine. Lots of talking."

Joon didn't respond to that. He hit send instead.

Joon-won:

'Hey. You think tonight's good for Seo-yeon's wine thing? I'm still over here for now, but I can swing by later if that still stands.'

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, cheeks warming slightly though Ha-eun hadn't said a thing.

⸻

Meanwhile..

Tae-hyun's house..

Seo-yeon was sprawled across the floor of the living room, clipping her toenails while wearing a long lavender robe and an avocado mask that made her look like a villain from a kid's cartoon.

"Do you think he'll actually come?" she asked, lifting a foot like it was a prize.

Tae-hyun leaned against the kitchen counter with two wine glasses in hand, smirking. "He said he'd think about it."

"That means yes."

He shrugged, but didn't argue. Truth was… he kind of hoped so.

He'd been floating all day. In his head. Through calls. In between teasing texts that grew riskier by the hour. And now, with music playing softly through the Bluetooth speaker and the wine already breathing, it suddenly felt real.

He took his phone out to check again just as a new message lit up the screen.

Joon-Won:

'Hey baby, you think tonight's good for Seo-yeon wine thing? I'm still over here for now, but I can swing by later if that still stands.'

Tae's lips twitched. He read it again, slowly, then texted back.

Tae-hyun:

'Of course it still stands. Seo-yeon was just asking about you.'

"Was that him?" Seo-yeon asked, peeling off the mask's edge now.

Tae-hyun grinned, tossing his phone onto the couch.

"Yeah. He's coming."

⸻

Back at Joon's house.

Joon-Won looked down at the sleeping form of his son, then toward the quiet kitchen where Ha-eun was rinsing their glasses.

He knew he shouldn't rush out too quickly. This was still his family. Still his home, technically. But the pull of something, someone else buzzed just beneath his skin.

He stood up quietly, kissed his son's forehead, and walked over to Ha-eun.

"Thanks," he murmured. "For letting me come a day early."

"You don't have to thank me," she said, tilting her head. "You're still his father. You still belong."

He didn't know how to respond to that.

So he gave her a smile instead, hugged her briefly, and left with a heart full of contradictions one hand on his car keys, the other already buzzing with anticipation.