an assortment of dialogue prompts, @paedeul.

There's the gentle brush of two fingers over his chest, tracing the skull and crossed blades in a rhythm light enough to put him to sleep. He couldn't possibly sleep right now, however, not with the wakeful body sprawled over the top of him, head pillowed against his racing heart.

“  Yeah? ” he pants, sweat slicking his skin and dampening his hair against his forehead. Taejoon's hand drifts down Youngwoo's spine, fingertips gliding up and down and up again. He's spent, he should get them cleaned up and fed, but he can't will himself to move and disturb the moment. They've always done this, or variations of it. Youngwoo would rest, propped against his chest to listen to his restless heart, and Taejoon would hold him close, ever reluctant to let him go.

“  Two rounds'll do that to a guy, ” he breathes out slowly this time, amused, but nonetheless comforted underneath the weight of Youngwoo's naked body. As his fingers drift, he touches over every bump and ridge of his spine, over the firm muscle and supple skin. He's traced these places a thousand times before, but each time, he finds himself desperate to revisit them. Taejoon lifts his head to kiss the top of Youngwoo's, his free hand lifting to rest underneath his head.

an assortment of dialogue prompts, @paedeul.

This little meetup of theirs was analogous to a sneaky link dropping by at three am; Spur of the moment, hidden away from prying eyes in the early hours of the morning. Although, the only pleasure he would be receiving from agreeing to the arrangement is the look of disdain, or thereabouts, on Youngwoo's face upon witnessing his arrival. There's a spark of something, something unspoken, something raw and forbidden, as their eyes meet. Years of history withheld, stomped on by the boots of K35 and then some. A shame that resentment had festered between them instead.

A lazy grin briefly touches his lips, and Taejoon unbuttons his suit-jacket as he finds his seat. Of course it was amusing, countless attempts at working together and they were no closer to an amicable resolution than the last they spoke. Only this time, it had cost a civilian's life. Some hophead ne'er-do-well caught in the crossfire, in the media they had a prosperous life ahead of them.

“  Do I now? ” Taejoon sits directly across from him, his rival. Youngwoo, dressed in all black, sharp and clean-cut. Were he none the wiser, he might have guessed him a model. “  I can play nice. Isn't that why we're here? ” To play nice, enforce some sort of treaty to avoid garnering more attention. The wrong kind, at least. K35 would continue it's downward spiral if they elected to bury this and carry on like before.

His forefinger flicks open the case file in front of him- documents, photos, witness testimonies. Taejoon flips through, catching a few key words before resigning himself to the fact that they were in hot water. The Big Boss would be raking them over the coals come morning if they didn't act fast. “  You're more quiet than usual, ” he observes, settling the file down and propping his fingers under his chin in faux thought.

Fine, I'll fuck off for you.

It sat uncomfortably in his gut, eating away at him, as he drove away from Youngwoo's apartment. He could be sick as the last few moments replayed in his mind. His eyes had fallen to the floor, unable to meet his own. Over...? No. It's a hasty decision then, that has him turning back. He should keep going straight, let Youngwoo go and perhaps that will make up for all the pain he's caused him over the years. But he's selfish. He always has been when it came to Youngwoo.

The rain buckets down as the car stops at the corner, and Taejoon launches out of the back seat, forgetting the door behind him as he heads towards @paedeul's apartment again. He's soaked to the bone within seconds, a shaky hand brought up to sweep his hair from his eyes and then some. What the fuck am I going to say? His fingers curl with the want to rip his hair out by the roots.

Only when he's in the middle of the road, crossing over, does he see Youngwoo dashing down the stairs and out onto the footpath. So, he's not the only one with regrets. His shoulders slump and his hand drops to his side, relief floods him instantly like a once drowning man taking his first breath. Even if the outcome is the same, even if things are well and truly over, he couldn't leave like that.

“  Shin Youngwoo, ” his name is a solace on his tongue, barely heard over the rain. Despite it all, despite how it hurts, his gaze softens and the corners of his lips lift in a small smile.