Flash Of Recognition

Tae shifted the phone to his other ear, his voice smooth with a grin still tugging at his lips. The night breeze was soft against his skin, the kind that makes you say things you might not in daylight.

"So," he said casually, "if you were to bottom… what do you think you'd be into?"

On the other end, Joon went quiet.

Too quiet.

Tae tilted his head, smiling at the silence.

"Gentle?" he coaxed. "Or rough?"

"…Why are you like this?"

"I'm curious. I want to know what makes you melt, Joon."

"Tae…"

"Dirty talk?" he asked, voice lower now, like he was leaning right into Joon's neck. "Or praise?"

A sharp breath came through the line. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Mhm."

"Why."

"Because I want to see that side of you," Tae said softly. "The side no one's ever touched before."

Joon exhaled, long and shaky. "I don't know. Okay? I've never—done any of this before. I'm just going off… feelings. Thoughts. Not experience."

"And those thoughts?" Tae asked gently. "What do they say?"

Joon's voice dropped into a nervous mumble. "I don't know… maybe… rough, if it's with someone I trust."

"Yeah?" Tae's voice wrapped around the word like silk.

Joon cleared his throat. "But not degrading. Not like… humiliation or whatever."

"No. Of course not," Tae murmured, expression suddenly tender. "I'd never want to humiliate you."

There was another pause, a shift on the line like Joon had sat down or leaned back on something.

"…Praises maybe," Joon added hesitantly. "But not too sweet. I'd lose it if someone called me 'pretty boy' or something."

Tae chuckled, dark and amused. "Noted."

"I swear to god—"

"No, it's just cute hearing you work through this," Tae said warmly. "I know you're not used to feeling… unsure."

"Yeah," Joon muttered. "It's weird."

"But not bad?"

Joon was quiet for a second. Then he mumbled a quite, "No… Not bad."

Tae's smile returned, softer now. He leaned back against the railing and closed his eyes, picturing Joon-won's flustered face from earlier. "Okay. What's one thing someone could say to you, in the middle of having sex that you think would make your dom side disappear?"

"Tae…"

"Humor me."

"I don't know…"

"You do."

"…Maybe," Joon said slowly, "if someone said something like… 'you feel so good' or 'you're taking me so well'.. I think that would mess me up."

Tae's breath hitched quietly.

"Especially if they said it like they really meant it," Joon added, then stopped himself. "Shit."

"That'd do it, huh?" Tae's voice was a little rougher now, hand lightly gripping the railing.

"…Yeah."

"You'd soften up," Tae murmured. "Wouldn't even think about control. You'd just want to be taken fully and ask to keep going huh.."

Joon groaned under his breath. "You need to stop talking."

"I'm just learning you," Tae whispered huskily, "Little by little."

Another pause stretched between them, quieter this time. Deeper.

Joon finally let out a sigh. "You're not making this easier."

"I'm not trying to."

"…You're teasing me."

"No, but I think you'd like it when I do.. wouldn't you?"

Joon didn't answer that.

He didn't have to.

.

.

That night after the call…

Joon-won lay in bed, phone still warm in his hand, screen dimmed to black as the weight of Tae-hyun's voice lingered in the back of his mind.

He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding the pillow until his knuckles hurt. The words spun in loops 'You'd soften up.. you wouldn't even think about control. You'd just want to be taken fully and ask to keep going huh..'

He exhaled deeply, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it held some kind of answer to the feeling growing under his skin.

Why did it stir something in him?

Why wasn't it going away?

His hand drifted over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his own pulse. It was ridiculous, he told himself. He had no business thinking about things like that, especially when he'd always been so sure of the role he played, of the image he kept.

And yet, Tae's voice… the way he teased and whispered and knew, it made something in him tighten and shudder in the same breath.

He fell asleep sometime between the fifth question in his mind and the image of Tae-hyun's smirk pressing into the side of his neck, whispering 'pretty boy' just to mess with him.

⸻

The following afternoon…

He returned to the house. Ha-eun and Min-jun were waiting on the porch, Eun-woo sprinted the moment he saw him, colliding into Joon's legs with a muffled 'Appa!'

Joon dropped to one knee, arms wrapping around his son with practiced warmth. "You've gotten taller in a week," he murmured, kissing the top of Eun-woo head.

Ha-eun gave him a small smile from behind the screen door. "Dinner's ready."

They settled into the rhythm like they'd never broken it: shared meals, small domestic silences, gentle conversations while their son played with toys between their feet. Ha-eun didn't ask about the break or the space, not directly. She simply allowed it to be, her eyes occasionally studying him longer than usual, but without judgment.

The next few days passed in a kind of curated normalcy. Joon went to work in the mornings, came home in the evenings. He texted Tae-hyun when he could, but the messages were brief and scattered:

Tae: 

'Miss me?'

Joon-won: 

'A little. You keeping count?'

Tae:

'Everyday..'

Tae:

 'Bet you're sleeping in sweats now. Boring.'

Joon-won: 

'You're not wrong.'

Tae:

'Tell me when you're alone next.'

But with Eun-woo constantly around and Ha-eun nearby, there was never really a moment that felt private enough to reply the way he wanted. He carried that tension in his shoulders, felt it in his jaw when he showered at night, a growing itch beneath the calm.

⸻

The week went by faster than he had expected,

Joon zipped his suitcase and knelt down to give Eun-woo another hug. The boy was eating chocolate snacks in front of the TV, legs swinging, his cheeks full like a chipmunk.

"I'll come again after next week," Joon promised, brushing back the boy's hair.

Min-jun nodded with a grin, crumbs stuck to his lips.

Ha-eun stood by the hallway, arms crossed loosely. "Let me know when you get to the hotel."

He nodded, lingering for a second as she watched him. It wasn't awkward anymore, just quiet. Muted understanding.

He left with a wave and a small smile.

⸻

The apartment building stood silent in the summer dusk.

Joon pulled into the driveway, headlights bouncing off the familiar wall of brick and glass. As he turned into his usual parking spot, something tugged at him sharply, a flash of recognition.

A car.

Tae-hyun's car.

His heart slammed once in his chest.

He stared for a second. It was parked neatly, a little too perfectly, like Tae had planned it, like he knew he'd be waiting.

Joon stepped out slowly, the buzz of the engine fading behind him.

He checked his phone with a slight frown.

There was no message. No call. No warning.

Just that car. Waiting for him like a full stop at the end of a long sentence.

He took the stairs slower than usual, breath just slightly uneven as he reached the floor and walked down the quiet hallway toward his door.

The light was on inside.

Someone was home.

He paused for a second before reaching for the handle, wondering what Tae was doing in there.

Waiting? Cooking? Sitting on his couch like he belonged there?

The thought hit him hard,

Tae-hyun didn't tell him he'd be there… because maybe now he doesn't feel like he has to.

And somehow, that made Joon's throat go dry.