(no subject)
part one.
He kisses Hakyeon that night, not for any particular reason other than because he wants to, because he feels like it. Because Hakyeon struggles to get out of his sweater and gets his arms caught in the sleeves, and Taekwoon has to rescue him before he strangles himself.
He kisses Hakyeon because he likes him rather a lot, because Hakyeon is loud and overwhelming and kind and generous, and he makes Taekwoon want a life after football. He makes Taekwoon yearn for a future that’s still unclear, one separate from drills and trophies and laps around the pitch. So Taekwoon kisses him, because Hakyeon is a lot of things, and he happens to be here, in a tiny room by the shore of Jinhae, yielding to Taekwoon as easily as the waves give to the gravitational pull of the moon.
Hakyeon pulls himself closer, straddling Taekwoon’s lap and kissing him with a fierceness that leaves them both breathless. He thumbs the back of Hakyeon’s neck when they part for air, and Hakyeon’s face is flushed red and his lips are shiny and wet.
“I’ve never--” he begins, but cuts himself short. “I want you to fuck me,” he says instead, his grip on Taekwoon’s shoulders tightening minutely.
Taekwoon doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself to. He runs a hand through Hakyeon’s hair and kisses him again, slower this time, biting gently at his lower lip until Hakyeon moans quietly, rolling their hips together.
"Wait," murmurs Taekwoon, because he's not any more experienced than Hakyeon is, but he knows enough to be aware that he is not prepared for this. "Wait. I don't have anything to--"
"I do," Hakyeon interrupts with a nervous laugh. "It's in my bag because, um, I was hoping. Maybe."
He climbs off, leaving Taekwoon alone in his bewilderment. He fumbles with his bag and tosses a small bottle and a condom onto the bed before settling himself back in Taekwoon's lap. "Um," he says. "So, can we?"
Taekwoon just nods mutely because he's still trying to work through the fact that Hakyeon had thought about this enough to plan for it.
Hakyeon slips a hand under his shirt, and Taekwoon helps him pull it over his head. He feels hotter without his clothes somehow, and Hakyeon doesn't help matters when the tip of his tongue darts out to lick the corner of his lips.
He leans forward to bite at Hakyeon's neck, relishing in the small choked sounds that rise from the other’s throat. Hakyeon runs his hands down Taekwoon's sides, stopping only to skim over the top of Taekwoon's jeans.
Taekwoon returns the favor, scratching lightly against the planes of Hakyeon's stomach, earning a stifled moan. He lifts Hakyeon's shirt with a bit more care than he did with his own, and Hakyeon lowers his eyes as Taekwoon takes him in.
His chest rises and falls with each breath, and Taekwoon peppers his jaw with kisses, trailing a line down across the curve of his shoulders. He tongues a nipple and enjoys the whimper it elicits, so he does it again and again until Hakyeon shudders beneath his touch.
"Taekwoon," he pants, and Taekwoon kisses him, close-mouthed, until he relaxes again, going easily when Taekwoon pushes him down onto his back. His hands skate along the expanse of Taekwoon’s back, and he bites his lip when he tugs at Taekwoon’s jeans.
He fumbles with the button, and Taekwoon says, as evenly as he can manage, “We--We don’t have to, if you don’t want--”
“I do,” breathes Hakyeon. “I do, I just--” he flushes, and looks down, curling a hand around Taekwoon’s hip. “I’ve just--I’ve never done this before?” he laughs, nervous, and Taekwoon just smiles and kisses him gently, a gesture that he returns eagerly.
“Idiot,” Taekwoon says. “It’s not like I have.”
Hakyeon turns his head away, but his laugh is softer this time. Taekwoon takes the opportunity to kiss his jaw, and Hakyeon hums appreciatively. His hands are surer now when he reaches for Taekwoon’s jeans and pushes them down past his thighs. When his hands linger, Taekwoon brings them up and holds them in his own.
He kisses the back of Hakyeon’s hand, brushes a thumb over his knuckles, and smiles slightly when Hakyeon meets his gaze. His heart is pounding madly in his chest, and when he kicks off his jeans and helps hakyeon out of his, it only beats faster and faster until Taekwoon could swear he feels it in his throat.
Hakyeon’s legs are long and lean, the muscles toned and strong. The skin is smooth and unmarred, and Taekwoon takes his time to suck a bruise onto the back of Hakyeon’s knee, tonguing at the mark until Hakyeon mewls impatiently, until Taekwoon pushes himself back up and kisses him silent.
Hakyeon rolls them over, pinning Taekwoon to the bed with a smile, and says, “You’re going to make me lose my nerve.”
Taekwoon highly doubts this. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s the one in danger of losing anything. “I’ve never done this before either,” Taekwoon reminds him, and Hakyeon ducks his head, worrying at his lip.
“Do you want to?” he asks, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “I know I’m pushy, but we don’t have to--”
“I’m fine,” says Taekwoon honestly. He takes Hakyeon’s hand again and interlaces their fingers. “This is just new.”
Hakyeon swallows. “Okay,” he says, a bit breathless.
He leans back to grab the bottle of lube, and Taekwoon watches wordlessly as he slicks his own fingers. "What are you--" he begins, but Hakyeon is squirming out of his boxers and sliding a finger into himself. Taekwoon's mouth goes dry at the sight of Hakyeon's cock, hard and leaking, and Hakyeon’s little noises of pleasure as he stretches himself open.
His eyes are shut tight as he inserts a second finger, gasping "Taekwoonie," quietly, and Taekwoon pushes himself upright, letting Hakyeon lean into him, burying his face in Taekwoon’s neck as he fingers himself, his thighs quivering in anticipation.
Each roll of his hips goes straight to Taekwoon’s dick, and Taekwoon can’t stop himself from moaning low into Hakyeon’s ear when Hakyeon ruts against him. “Please,” Hakyeon mumbles. “Taekwoon-ah, please, I want your fingers, too.”
It’s hard, trying to grab the lube without dislodging Hakyeon, but Taekwoon manages it, manages to uncap the bottle with shaking hands, spilling copious amounts of lube over his fingers as Hakyeon continues to gasp desperately. He circles Hakyeon’s entrance in forewarning before pushing in, and Hakyeon lets out a whine that sends Taekwoon reeling.
He’s burning hot and so, so tight, and the feel of Hakyeon’s fingers against his own has him sinking his teeth into Hakyeon’s shoulder to stifle a loud groan. “Taekwoon, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon chants, pulling out to let Taekwoon push in deeper.
He grabs Taekwoon’s wrist, urges him to add a second and a third finger, until he’s visibly shaking, kissing Taekwoon sloppily and rocking against the outline of Taekwoon’s cock. He swears loudly when Taekwoon presses against that bundle of nerves, and his moans turn raw and ragged. Taekwoon’s boxers are completely ruined, soaked with pre-come, and Hakyeon reaches in, working him until he’s cursing under his breath and trying to focus on not coming right then and there.
“Hakyeon,” says Taekwoon in a strangled voice. “Hakyeon-ah, stop, I can’t--”
“No,” pleads Hakyeon, lifting himself off Taekwoon and tearing open a condom packet with his teeth. He slicks Taekwoon’s cock with lube and braces himself against Taekwoon’s shoulders as he slowly takes him in, rocking his hips and uttering soft whimpers. Taekwoon steadies his hips with his hands, fighting the urge to thrust up into the tight heat.
Hakyeon’s spine stiffens as he sinks down, and Taekwoon kisses him, slow and gentle, reaching between them to stroke Hakyeon’s cock.
“I’m okay,” Hakyeon says in a small voice. “Just give me a minute.”
Taekwoon licks his lips, and they tingle, kiss-swollen. “I’m right here,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the slit of Hakyeon’s cock, drinking the choked gasp that Hakyeon exhales. “Fuck, Hakyeon.”
When Hakyeon starts to move his hips, Taekwoon moans roughly, thrusting in to match the rhythm he sets. The movement startles a cry out of Hakyeon, and his nails dig crescent-shaped indents into Taekwoon's back.
Taekwoon isn't going to last long, not with Hakyeon moaning helplessly against him, punctuating each thrust with a sharp, breathy gasp of pleasure, his ass clenching around Taekwoon's cock tightly.
The angle is awkward, but it does nothing to stave off his impending orgasm, not when Taekwoon pushes shallowly into Hakyeon, and Hakyeon fucking keens, like he’s sobbing for it. His cock twitches in Taekwoon’s hand, and he’s coming, hard, coating Taekwoon’s fingers and striping their stomachs as he shakes apart, sinking his teeth into Taekwoon’s neck to muffle his cries.
Taekwoon brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean, the taste of Hakyeon bitter but not wholly unpleasant, on his tongue. Hakyeon eases himself off Taekwoon’s still-hard cock slowly with a quiet mewl of discomfort and settles himself between Taekwoon’s legs. He rolls off the condom and tosses it haphazardly into the trash can beside the bed.
He forces Taekwoon to lie back, licking his lips in anticipation as Taekwoon complies. Taekwoon is expecting the hot, wet heat that envelopes him as Hakyeon swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, but there’s no way he could have prepared himself for the way Hakyeon sucks him inexpertly, but eagerly, messy and enthusiastic, taking Taekwoon in and then some, swallowing around him and hollowing his cheeks. The low, guttural moan that drags its way out of Taekwoon is far from forced, and when Hakyeon hums around him, he comes with a soft cry, shivering at the way Hakyeon swallows him dry.
Hakyeon pulls off with an audible pop, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and smiling sheepishly.
“Fuck, Hakyeon,” breathes Taekwoon, still swimming in the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. Hakyeon collapses beside him, equally loose-limbed.
He doesn’t want to cuddle, exactly, but he’s decided he likes the feel of Hakyeon under his fingers, likes the way Hakyeon’s skin is always warm to the touch and how he fits neatly into Taekwoon’s hold.
“Sorry,” says Hakyeon apologetically, brushing his fingers against the teeth marks on the curve of Taekwoon’s throat. The skin is unbroken, but when Taekwoon reaches up to feel for himself, the indentations are deep and tender to the touch.
It’s definitely going to bruise, but Taekwoon doesn’t mind, really. Instead, he leans over and kisses Hakyeon softly, combing his fingers through Hakyeon’s hair because he doesn’t know what else to say and now doesn’t seem like the time for talking anyway.
#
Hakyeon is sitting cross-legged on Taekwoon’s bed when Taekwoon emerges from his shower. He’s changed into a familiar oversized black t-shirt, and his hair is damp against his forehead. He’s hunched over his phone and doesn’t look up until Taekwoon tosses him a sweatshirt.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Taekwoon says.
“No, I’m not,” Hakyeon argues as he pulls the sweatshirt over his head. “Are you going to bed?”
Taekwoon nods, lips quirked, and Hakyeon moves over hesitantly. “No, it’s fine,” says Taekwoon, padding over and sitting down. “Stay.”
Hakyeon smiles, looking pleased. “I’m going to bed, too, though,” he says.
“So stay,” repeats Taekwoon. “We fit.”
“I sleep on the right,” says Hakyeon.
Taekwoon rolls his eyes and moves to the left. Hakyeon laughs, and Taekwoon gets a hand around his for his trouble.
And that’s how they fall asleep, curled towards each other, Hakyeon’s hand grasped loosely in Taekwoon’s beneath the sheets.
#
Hakyeon shakes him awake when the room is still dark. The digital clock on the nightstand between their beds tells Taekwoon it’s a quarter to five. Taekwoon rolls over, taking the sheets with him.
“Taekwoon-ah,” says Hakyeon impatiently. “Come on, the sun’s going to come out soon.”
It takes a few more attempts before Taekwoon is groggily sitting up and getting out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Hakyeon fusses with his hair while Taekwoon changes and doesn’t stop trying to smooth out his already flat bangs until Taekwoon plants a snapback on his head and adjusts it until Hakyeon smiles approvingly.
He lets Hakyeon lead the way down to the shore, and the chilly morning beach air makes him shiver. The edges of the sky is just starting to pink when they sit down in the sand, Hakyeon sitting between his legs and huddled in on himself as Taekwoon holds him to his chest, resting his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder. His neck aches rather terribly, but as the horizon melts into a deep warm orange, he figures it’s not so bad.
He presses his nose to Hakyeon’s cheek, feeling Hakyeon smile, fond. “Good morning,” he murmurs as the air starts to grow warmer with the lazily rising sun. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you,” says Hakyeon, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to Taekwoon’s temple. “Good morning.”
There’s no one else around, so Taekwoon pulls him closer, his arms tightening instinctively around Hakyeon’s waist. “You should make a wish,” Taekwoon comments. “Before the sun’s fully up.”
“I already got my wish,” says Hakyeon, smiling. “It’d be selfish of me to ask for more.”
“It’s your birthday,” says Taekwoon.
“Yeah,” says Hakyeon, his hand curling over Taekwoon’s. His fingers are ringless today, and Taekwoon rubs a thumb over his knuckles. “But I’m happy,” he says. “With what I already have.”
Sometimes, like now, Taekwoon thinks Hakyeon is too easy to please. He’s toyed with the idea that perhaps Hakyeon’s always been a bit overlooked, but he knows that’s not true, not even close. Hakyeon just seems to have that sort of effect on people, his eyes wide and child-like and innocently curious. It’s hard, not to indulge him, if only a little, but Hakyeon takes each of these moments and treasures them, holds them close to his heart, and is genuinely delighted with each occurrence.
Hakyeon, at twenty-six, incites a protectiveness in Taekwoon that he’s sure he’s not alone in. In Changwon, Taekwoon had watched as Hakyeon’s sister had scolded him for being too naive (“You’re not a child anymore,” she’d admonished.) as she made him honey cake. He also remembers when they were just barely twenty and starting to make their mark in the world of football, when they’d have their practice scrimmages and Inguk would ruffle Hakyeon’s hair when he fumbled with the ball, laughing and teasing as he corrected Hakyeon’s form.
If Hakyeon is selfish, then Taekwoon is a glutton because these last two weeks have been the best vacation Taekwoon’s ever taken, and Taekwoon doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to drive back to Changwon nor say good-bye at the station and take his train back to Seoul. He wants to stay here, with Hakyeon, waking up for sunrises and getting sand in his shoes.
He’s not ready for July; he’s not ready to give Hakyeon back to the world when he’s taken so long to make Hakyeon his.
He spies the edge of a hickey, peeking over the top of Hakyeon’s jacket, and he presses his lips to it, memorizing the way Hakyeon shivers at the touch. There’s only three days left before he has to leave, but Hakyeon leans into him and Taekwoon dares to yearn for the lifetime ahead.
#
They walk to a nearby cafe for breakfast, and Taekwoon welcomes the aroma of fresh coffee while Hakyeon picks out pastries from the display. They sit at a small table by the window, watching as the beach slowly becomes more populated as the sun crawls higher.
They steal bites of each other’s food, and Hakyeon offers a running commentary of anyone who passes by them. Taekwoon nearly chokes on his latte when Hakyeon says, nonchalantly, “Hey, isn’t that Wonshik?” tilting his head toward a teenage boy with brightly dyed orange hair with a skateboard tucked underneath his arms, scowling at his parents.
He kicks Hakyeon for that, and Hakyeon laughs and doesn’t even try to move away.
Taekwoon digs around the pocket of his sweater and pulls out a small, navy box. “Happy Birthday,” he says, sliding it over.
Hakyeon puts down his tea in surprise. “You didn’t have to--”
“I know,” says Taekwoon, scratching his neck. “But I saw it and thought you’d like it.”
Hakyeon undoes the ribbon and pries the box open, and Taekwoon watches as his eyes light up in delight when he sees the platinum ring nestled in velvet.
“Taekwoon-ah,” he says softly, admiring the gift in the sunlight, eyes crinkling at the way the metal glints in the rays. He squints to read the inscription inside, mouthing “byeolbich-ah,” silently. His smile is pleased, and he ducks his head with a small laugh, cheeks flushed.
“Do you like it?” Taekwoon inquires, his heart racing as Hakyeon slides the ring on.
“I love it,” breathes Hakyeon, staring at Taekwoon in a way that makes his insides burn. He licks his lips and glances down at the table. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” says Taekwoon, throat dry. “Let’s go.”
#
Taekwoon fucks into him slowly, his hands sliding down Hakyeon’s waist as Hakyeon arches against him, eyes shut tight, moans soft and breathless. He trembles beautifully in Taekwoon’s hold, thighs hooked over Taekwoon’s shoulder, spine yielding easily to Taekwoon’s movements.
He begs for Taekwoon to fuck him harder, crying out when Taekwoon complies.
Hakyeon’s skin is flushed, and it makes the marks Taekwoon’s left on him stand out that much more. Taekwoon sucks new ones into his neck, drinking in the way Hakyeon pleads with him, like he could never get enough.
Taekwoon thinks he loves Hakyeon like this, spread out beneath him, giving Taekwoon every bit of himself, eyes half-lidded and mouth shiny and wet. Hakyeon moves his legs down to wrap them around Taekwoon’s waist, and Taekwoon takes the opportunity to kiss him, groaning at how Hakyeon’s tongue curls around his, hot and needy and wanting.
Hakyeon leaves ten long scratches that burn into his back, and he hisses at the way they tingle, exposed, but Hakyeon’s too far gone to notice, whining high in his throat as he urges Taekwoon to go faster. They’re both close now, and Taekwoon laces their fingers together, gently squeezing when Hakyeon grips him desperately, his ring digging painfully into Taekwoon’s skin.
Hakyeon comes first with a sharp cry, and Taekwoon follows, not long after, collapsing on top of Hakyeon in a exhausted mess of sweat and come. They lie still, trying to catch their breath, and Hakyeon brushes the hair out of his eyes for him, tucking away the stray locks behind his ear.
The sun is high now, seeping in through their window, bright and relentless, and Hakyeon kisses him slowly, easily, openly, and Taekwoon gives him all that he has.
#
Changwon Central Station is much busier than it had been when Taekwoon first arrived, almost three weeks ago. Tourists gather in their respective groups, chattering in their native tongues.
Taekwoon’s things are packed away in his bags, and Hakyeon’s mother had pushed an extra bag filled with food and treats on him for the trip. He passes the canvas shopping bag into his left hand when it starts to cut into his right.
Hakyeon is silent in front of him, playing with the buttons on Taekwoon’s shirt and smoothing out wrinkles that don’t exist.
Taekwoon wants to kiss the sadness of Hakyeon’s eyes, but they’re in public and he knows better, so he lets Hakyeon continue to fuss over the things that don’t matter, even as his departure time ticks nearer and nearer.
“I’ll see you soon,” Taekwoon reassures him, pressing a thumb to the corner of Hakyeon’s eye. (It comes away wet.)
“Yeah,” says Hakyeon, not looking up. “Um, practice your drills and your defense. Stop going easy on Wonshik, his footwork’s not going to get better if you keep babying him.”
Taekwoon smiles and nods. “I could say the same to you, for Sanghyuk.”
“Sanghyuk is a baby,” murmurs Hakyeon. he sniffs quietly, and Taekwoon pulls him close, lets him bury his face in Taekwoon’s shoulder, obscured from the noisy crowds. He pats the back of Hakyeon’s head soothingly, ignoring the way his own chest feels like it’s about to cave in on itself.
“I love you,” he says quietly, wiping away the moisture on Hakyeon’s cheek with the sleeve of his cardigan.
Hakyeon swallows and rubs at his eyes furiously. “Why would you say that,” he says in a strangled voice, blinking fast.
“Because it’s true,” says Taekwoon, pressing a swift kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you in August, yeah? It won’t be that long, so practice hard.”
Hakyeon nods. His eyes are red, and he still looks so sad, so Taekwoon cups his face with his free hand and kisses him quick, but soft, brushing Hakyeon’s lips with his thumb when he pulls away. Hakyeon swallows again, and his voice is stronger this time when he looks at Taekwoon and says, “I love you. I’ll see you soon?”
Taekwoon smiles. He fixes Hakyeon’s hair and gives his cheeks one last pat. “August 3rd,” he says.
Hakyeon returns the smile, and echoes, “August 3rd.” His eyes don’t quite carry the same level of happiness Taekwoon’s gotten used to seeing, but they are hopeful, and that makes Taekwoon feel a little better.
“We’ll go to Myeongdong,” promises Taekwoon.
“Okay,” says Hakyeon. “I’d like that.”
An announcement crackles across the station, and Hakyeon brushes an invisible piece of lint off his shoulders. “You have to go,” he says.
“I do,” agrees Taekwoon.
Hakyeon steps back slowly. “Be safe,” he says, tugging at the hem of his sweater.
“Be careful,” Taekwoon returns, earning a small smile. “And good luck,” he adds. “With school.”
There’s another announcement, and Taekwoon glances up at the clock, frowning at how the hands seem to be speeding along much faster than they should. Hakyeon gives him a little wave, and Taekwoon switches the bag of food back over to his right hand. It aches painfully where the strap cuts into him.
“I’ll call you when I get to Seoul,” says Taekwoon.
“Okay,” says Hakyeon. He scratches behind his ear, and Taekwoon glances at the ring--his ring--on Hakyeon’s finger. He feels a little more relaxed.
He heads towards his train, turning back at the bottom of the stairs to see Hakyeon still looking after him, and waves.
Hakyeon waves back.
epilogue.
“I’ve done a lot of things,” Hakyeon is saying on Taekwoon’s tv screen at an end-of-the-season press conference. “I’ve been to a lot of places. I’ve played in tournaments and world cups, and I’m really grateful. I’m really grateful for Coach Hwang who scouted me back in high school and asked me to play for the best team in Korea. I never dreamed that I would be playing for the AFC Cup, and I never imagined that I would be a part of the FIFA World Cup.
“I’m also grateful for my teammates because--” he looks down, and Taekwoon can see him struggle to maintain his composure.
His hand twitches towards the remote. “--I’m grateful,” Hakyeon continues, a slight waver in his voice. “I’m really grateful, for my teammates, who have always given me everything I asked of them and more, and I have asked for a lot.”
The room laughs, and Hakyeon laughs too, eyes shining. "And for my family? I don't know how to thank you. I don't know the words to describe how much it's meant to me to have had you encourage me since before I could walk. My father, for giving me my first ball; my mother for believing in me even when I didn't believe in myself; and my sister, for being my goalkeeper, even when she was studying for her college entrance exams.
“I’m really thankful, that they could indulge me for as long as they have. I hope I’ve been able to show them that I am no longer the youngest son Hakyeon, the baby of the family, but someone with the strength to carry our family forward. My sister has been doing an incredible job, and I hope to be able to do the same."
“What are your thoughts on your last season?” someone asks.
“Well,” says Hakyeon, grinning. “I can’t think of a better way to finish my career than to have brought the AFC Cup back to Korea.”
The room erupts in cheers and applause at his words, and Hakyeon stands up along with the rest of the team. “Thank you,” he says in closing. “For all the support you given me and Ulsan Hyundai Horangi. I love you. Thank you.”
Taekwoon smiles at the screen as he watches Hakyeon wave at the cameras. The clamor of the crowd is faded out, and the reporter steps back into view, segueing neatly over to the weather.
“Oh God,” says Hakyeon, from behind him. Taekwoon clicks off the tv, and Hakyeon shuts the door to the apartment as he toes off his shoes. “Why are you watching that?”
“I liked what you said,” Taekwoon says, lying down for a well-deserved afternoon nap. “It was very sincere.”
Hakyeon mutters something that sounds suspiciously like how he wasn’t going to cry you know.
“Your orientation packet came,” Taekwoon says. “I put it on the table.”
He dozes to the rustling of papers and opens his eyes only when he feels the sofa sink under Hakyeon’s familiar weight. Hakyeon is still holding the giant envelope from Hanyang, and he’s smiling softly at Taekwoon. Taekwoon blinks at him.
“I love you,” says Hakyeon, twisting the gold ring on his finger that has since replaced the platinum one Taekwoon gave him a year ago.
Taekwoon cocks his head. “I love you, too,” he says without hesitation. his heart beats reassuringly, and he lets Hakyeon sprawl out on top of him, tucking his chin over the top of Hakyeon’s head.
“I’m tired,” complains Hakyeon. “I thought retiring was supposed to relax me.”
“So sleep,” says Taekwoon, running a hand down Hakyeon’s back.
“Shut up,” says Hakyeon, burrowing deeper into Taekwoon's chest. “I’m getting there.”
ROLLS OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH
DO YOU LOVE ME YET MYSA
AM I YOUR FAVORITE
He kisses Hakyeon that night, not for any particular reason other than because he wants to, because he feels like it. Because Hakyeon struggles to get out of his sweater and gets his arms caught in the sleeves, and Taekwoon has to rescue him before he strangles himself.
He kisses Hakyeon because he likes him rather a lot, because Hakyeon is loud and overwhelming and kind and generous, and he makes Taekwoon want a life after football. He makes Taekwoon yearn for a future that’s still unclear, one separate from drills and trophies and laps around the pitch. So Taekwoon kisses him, because Hakyeon is a lot of things, and he happens to be here, in a tiny room by the shore of Jinhae, yielding to Taekwoon as easily as the waves give to the gravitational pull of the moon.
Hakyeon pulls himself closer, straddling Taekwoon’s lap and kissing him with a fierceness that leaves them both breathless. He thumbs the back of Hakyeon’s neck when they part for air, and Hakyeon’s face is flushed red and his lips are shiny and wet.
“I’ve never--” he begins, but cuts himself short. “I want you to fuck me,” he says instead, his grip on Taekwoon’s shoulders tightening minutely.
Taekwoon doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself to. He runs a hand through Hakyeon’s hair and kisses him again, slower this time, biting gently at his lower lip until Hakyeon moans quietly, rolling their hips together.
"Wait," murmurs Taekwoon, because he's not any more experienced than Hakyeon is, but he knows enough to be aware that he is not prepared for this. "Wait. I don't have anything to--"
"I do," Hakyeon interrupts with a nervous laugh. "It's in my bag because, um, I was hoping. Maybe."
He climbs off, leaving Taekwoon alone in his bewilderment. He fumbles with his bag and tosses a small bottle and a condom onto the bed before settling himself back in Taekwoon's lap. "Um," he says. "So, can we?"
Taekwoon just nods mutely because he's still trying to work through the fact that Hakyeon had thought about this enough to plan for it.
Hakyeon slips a hand under his shirt, and Taekwoon helps him pull it over his head. He feels hotter without his clothes somehow, and Hakyeon doesn't help matters when the tip of his tongue darts out to lick the corner of his lips.
He leans forward to bite at Hakyeon's neck, relishing in the small choked sounds that rise from the other’s throat. Hakyeon runs his hands down Taekwoon's sides, stopping only to skim over the top of Taekwoon's jeans.
Taekwoon returns the favor, scratching lightly against the planes of Hakyeon's stomach, earning a stifled moan. He lifts Hakyeon's shirt with a bit more care than he did with his own, and Hakyeon lowers his eyes as Taekwoon takes him in.
His chest rises and falls with each breath, and Taekwoon peppers his jaw with kisses, trailing a line down across the curve of his shoulders. He tongues a nipple and enjoys the whimper it elicits, so he does it again and again until Hakyeon shudders beneath his touch.
"Taekwoon," he pants, and Taekwoon kisses him, close-mouthed, until he relaxes again, going easily when Taekwoon pushes him down onto his back. His hands skate along the expanse of Taekwoon’s back, and he bites his lip when he tugs at Taekwoon’s jeans.
He fumbles with the button, and Taekwoon says, as evenly as he can manage, “We--We don’t have to, if you don’t want--”
“I do,” breathes Hakyeon. “I do, I just--” he flushes, and looks down, curling a hand around Taekwoon’s hip. “I’ve just--I’ve never done this before?” he laughs, nervous, and Taekwoon just smiles and kisses him gently, a gesture that he returns eagerly.
“Idiot,” Taekwoon says. “It’s not like I have.”
Hakyeon turns his head away, but his laugh is softer this time. Taekwoon takes the opportunity to kiss his jaw, and Hakyeon hums appreciatively. His hands are surer now when he reaches for Taekwoon’s jeans and pushes them down past his thighs. When his hands linger, Taekwoon brings them up and holds them in his own.
He kisses the back of Hakyeon’s hand, brushes a thumb over his knuckles, and smiles slightly when Hakyeon meets his gaze. His heart is pounding madly in his chest, and when he kicks off his jeans and helps hakyeon out of his, it only beats faster and faster until Taekwoon could swear he feels it in his throat.
Hakyeon’s legs are long and lean, the muscles toned and strong. The skin is smooth and unmarred, and Taekwoon takes his time to suck a bruise onto the back of Hakyeon’s knee, tonguing at the mark until Hakyeon mewls impatiently, until Taekwoon pushes himself back up and kisses him silent.
Hakyeon rolls them over, pinning Taekwoon to the bed with a smile, and says, “You’re going to make me lose my nerve.”
Taekwoon highly doubts this. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s the one in danger of losing anything. “I’ve never done this before either,” Taekwoon reminds him, and Hakyeon ducks his head, worrying at his lip.
“Do you want to?” he asks, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “I know I’m pushy, but we don’t have to--”
“I’m fine,” says Taekwoon honestly. He takes Hakyeon’s hand again and interlaces their fingers. “This is just new.”
Hakyeon swallows. “Okay,” he says, a bit breathless.
He leans back to grab the bottle of lube, and Taekwoon watches wordlessly as he slicks his own fingers. "What are you--" he begins, but Hakyeon is squirming out of his boxers and sliding a finger into himself. Taekwoon's mouth goes dry at the sight of Hakyeon's cock, hard and leaking, and Hakyeon’s little noises of pleasure as he stretches himself open.
His eyes are shut tight as he inserts a second finger, gasping "Taekwoonie," quietly, and Taekwoon pushes himself upright, letting Hakyeon lean into him, burying his face in Taekwoon’s neck as he fingers himself, his thighs quivering in anticipation.
Each roll of his hips goes straight to Taekwoon’s dick, and Taekwoon can’t stop himself from moaning low into Hakyeon’s ear when Hakyeon ruts against him. “Please,” Hakyeon mumbles. “Taekwoon-ah, please, I want your fingers, too.”
It’s hard, trying to grab the lube without dislodging Hakyeon, but Taekwoon manages it, manages to uncap the bottle with shaking hands, spilling copious amounts of lube over his fingers as Hakyeon continues to gasp desperately. He circles Hakyeon’s entrance in forewarning before pushing in, and Hakyeon lets out a whine that sends Taekwoon reeling.
He’s burning hot and so, so tight, and the feel of Hakyeon’s fingers against his own has him sinking his teeth into Hakyeon’s shoulder to stifle a loud groan. “Taekwoon, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon chants, pulling out to let Taekwoon push in deeper.
He grabs Taekwoon’s wrist, urges him to add a second and a third finger, until he’s visibly shaking, kissing Taekwoon sloppily and rocking against the outline of Taekwoon’s cock. He swears loudly when Taekwoon presses against that bundle of nerves, and his moans turn raw and ragged. Taekwoon’s boxers are completely ruined, soaked with pre-come, and Hakyeon reaches in, working him until he’s cursing under his breath and trying to focus on not coming right then and there.
“Hakyeon,” says Taekwoon in a strangled voice. “Hakyeon-ah, stop, I can’t--”
“No,” pleads Hakyeon, lifting himself off Taekwoon and tearing open a condom packet with his teeth. He slicks Taekwoon’s cock with lube and braces himself against Taekwoon’s shoulders as he slowly takes him in, rocking his hips and uttering soft whimpers. Taekwoon steadies his hips with his hands, fighting the urge to thrust up into the tight heat.
Hakyeon’s spine stiffens as he sinks down, and Taekwoon kisses him, slow and gentle, reaching between them to stroke Hakyeon’s cock.
“I’m okay,” Hakyeon says in a small voice. “Just give me a minute.”
Taekwoon licks his lips, and they tingle, kiss-swollen. “I’m right here,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the slit of Hakyeon’s cock, drinking the choked gasp that Hakyeon exhales. “Fuck, Hakyeon.”
When Hakyeon starts to move his hips, Taekwoon moans roughly, thrusting in to match the rhythm he sets. The movement startles a cry out of Hakyeon, and his nails dig crescent-shaped indents into Taekwoon's back.
Taekwoon isn't going to last long, not with Hakyeon moaning helplessly against him, punctuating each thrust with a sharp, breathy gasp of pleasure, his ass clenching around Taekwoon's cock tightly.
The angle is awkward, but it does nothing to stave off his impending orgasm, not when Taekwoon pushes shallowly into Hakyeon, and Hakyeon fucking keens, like he’s sobbing for it. His cock twitches in Taekwoon’s hand, and he’s coming, hard, coating Taekwoon’s fingers and striping their stomachs as he shakes apart, sinking his teeth into Taekwoon’s neck to muffle his cries.
Taekwoon brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean, the taste of Hakyeon bitter but not wholly unpleasant, on his tongue. Hakyeon eases himself off Taekwoon’s still-hard cock slowly with a quiet mewl of discomfort and settles himself between Taekwoon’s legs. He rolls off the condom and tosses it haphazardly into the trash can beside the bed.
He forces Taekwoon to lie back, licking his lips in anticipation as Taekwoon complies. Taekwoon is expecting the hot, wet heat that envelopes him as Hakyeon swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, but there’s no way he could have prepared himself for the way Hakyeon sucks him inexpertly, but eagerly, messy and enthusiastic, taking Taekwoon in and then some, swallowing around him and hollowing his cheeks. The low, guttural moan that drags its way out of Taekwoon is far from forced, and when Hakyeon hums around him, he comes with a soft cry, shivering at the way Hakyeon swallows him dry.
Hakyeon pulls off with an audible pop, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and smiling sheepishly.
“Fuck, Hakyeon,” breathes Taekwoon, still swimming in the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. Hakyeon collapses beside him, equally loose-limbed.
He doesn’t want to cuddle, exactly, but he’s decided he likes the feel of Hakyeon under his fingers, likes the way Hakyeon’s skin is always warm to the touch and how he fits neatly into Taekwoon’s hold.
“Sorry,” says Hakyeon apologetically, brushing his fingers against the teeth marks on the curve of Taekwoon’s throat. The skin is unbroken, but when Taekwoon reaches up to feel for himself, the indentations are deep and tender to the touch.
It’s definitely going to bruise, but Taekwoon doesn’t mind, really. Instead, he leans over and kisses Hakyeon softly, combing his fingers through Hakyeon’s hair because he doesn’t know what else to say and now doesn’t seem like the time for talking anyway.
#
Hakyeon is sitting cross-legged on Taekwoon’s bed when Taekwoon emerges from his shower. He’s changed into a familiar oversized black t-shirt, and his hair is damp against his forehead. He’s hunched over his phone and doesn’t look up until Taekwoon tosses him a sweatshirt.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Taekwoon says.
“No, I’m not,” Hakyeon argues as he pulls the sweatshirt over his head. “Are you going to bed?”
Taekwoon nods, lips quirked, and Hakyeon moves over hesitantly. “No, it’s fine,” says Taekwoon, padding over and sitting down. “Stay.”
Hakyeon smiles, looking pleased. “I’m going to bed, too, though,” he says.
“So stay,” repeats Taekwoon. “We fit.”
“I sleep on the right,” says Hakyeon.
Taekwoon rolls his eyes and moves to the left. Hakyeon laughs, and Taekwoon gets a hand around his for his trouble.
And that’s how they fall asleep, curled towards each other, Hakyeon’s hand grasped loosely in Taekwoon’s beneath the sheets.
#
Hakyeon shakes him awake when the room is still dark. The digital clock on the nightstand between their beds tells Taekwoon it’s a quarter to five. Taekwoon rolls over, taking the sheets with him.
“Taekwoon-ah,” says Hakyeon impatiently. “Come on, the sun’s going to come out soon.”
It takes a few more attempts before Taekwoon is groggily sitting up and getting out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Hakyeon fusses with his hair while Taekwoon changes and doesn’t stop trying to smooth out his already flat bangs until Taekwoon plants a snapback on his head and adjusts it until Hakyeon smiles approvingly.
He lets Hakyeon lead the way down to the shore, and the chilly morning beach air makes him shiver. The edges of the sky is just starting to pink when they sit down in the sand, Hakyeon sitting between his legs and huddled in on himself as Taekwoon holds him to his chest, resting his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder. His neck aches rather terribly, but as the horizon melts into a deep warm orange, he figures it’s not so bad.
He presses his nose to Hakyeon’s cheek, feeling Hakyeon smile, fond. “Good morning,” he murmurs as the air starts to grow warmer with the lazily rising sun. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you,” says Hakyeon, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to Taekwoon’s temple. “Good morning.”
There’s no one else around, so Taekwoon pulls him closer, his arms tightening instinctively around Hakyeon’s waist. “You should make a wish,” Taekwoon comments. “Before the sun’s fully up.”
“I already got my wish,” says Hakyeon, smiling. “It’d be selfish of me to ask for more.”
“It’s your birthday,” says Taekwoon.
“Yeah,” says Hakyeon, his hand curling over Taekwoon’s. His fingers are ringless today, and Taekwoon rubs a thumb over his knuckles. “But I’m happy,” he says. “With what I already have.”
Sometimes, like now, Taekwoon thinks Hakyeon is too easy to please. He’s toyed with the idea that perhaps Hakyeon’s always been a bit overlooked, but he knows that’s not true, not even close. Hakyeon just seems to have that sort of effect on people, his eyes wide and child-like and innocently curious. It’s hard, not to indulge him, if only a little, but Hakyeon takes each of these moments and treasures them, holds them close to his heart, and is genuinely delighted with each occurrence.
Hakyeon, at twenty-six, incites a protectiveness in Taekwoon that he’s sure he’s not alone in. In Changwon, Taekwoon had watched as Hakyeon’s sister had scolded him for being too naive (“You’re not a child anymore,” she’d admonished.) as she made him honey cake. He also remembers when they were just barely twenty and starting to make their mark in the world of football, when they’d have their practice scrimmages and Inguk would ruffle Hakyeon’s hair when he fumbled with the ball, laughing and teasing as he corrected Hakyeon’s form.
If Hakyeon is selfish, then Taekwoon is a glutton because these last two weeks have been the best vacation Taekwoon’s ever taken, and Taekwoon doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to drive back to Changwon nor say good-bye at the station and take his train back to Seoul. He wants to stay here, with Hakyeon, waking up for sunrises and getting sand in his shoes.
He’s not ready for July; he’s not ready to give Hakyeon back to the world when he’s taken so long to make Hakyeon his.
He spies the edge of a hickey, peeking over the top of Hakyeon’s jacket, and he presses his lips to it, memorizing the way Hakyeon shivers at the touch. There’s only three days left before he has to leave, but Hakyeon leans into him and Taekwoon dares to yearn for the lifetime ahead.
#
They walk to a nearby cafe for breakfast, and Taekwoon welcomes the aroma of fresh coffee while Hakyeon picks out pastries from the display. They sit at a small table by the window, watching as the beach slowly becomes more populated as the sun crawls higher.
They steal bites of each other’s food, and Hakyeon offers a running commentary of anyone who passes by them. Taekwoon nearly chokes on his latte when Hakyeon says, nonchalantly, “Hey, isn’t that Wonshik?” tilting his head toward a teenage boy with brightly dyed orange hair with a skateboard tucked underneath his arms, scowling at his parents.
He kicks Hakyeon for that, and Hakyeon laughs and doesn’t even try to move away.
Taekwoon digs around the pocket of his sweater and pulls out a small, navy box. “Happy Birthday,” he says, sliding it over.
Hakyeon puts down his tea in surprise. “You didn’t have to--”
“I know,” says Taekwoon, scratching his neck. “But I saw it and thought you’d like it.”
Hakyeon undoes the ribbon and pries the box open, and Taekwoon watches as his eyes light up in delight when he sees the platinum ring nestled in velvet.
“Taekwoon-ah,” he says softly, admiring the gift in the sunlight, eyes crinkling at the way the metal glints in the rays. He squints to read the inscription inside, mouthing “byeolbich-ah,” silently. His smile is pleased, and he ducks his head with a small laugh, cheeks flushed.
“Do you like it?” Taekwoon inquires, his heart racing as Hakyeon slides the ring on.
“I love it,” breathes Hakyeon, staring at Taekwoon in a way that makes his insides burn. He licks his lips and glances down at the table. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” says Taekwoon, throat dry. “Let’s go.”
#
Taekwoon fucks into him slowly, his hands sliding down Hakyeon’s waist as Hakyeon arches against him, eyes shut tight, moans soft and breathless. He trembles beautifully in Taekwoon’s hold, thighs hooked over Taekwoon’s shoulder, spine yielding easily to Taekwoon’s movements.
He begs for Taekwoon to fuck him harder, crying out when Taekwoon complies.
Hakyeon’s skin is flushed, and it makes the marks Taekwoon’s left on him stand out that much more. Taekwoon sucks new ones into his neck, drinking in the way Hakyeon pleads with him, like he could never get enough.
Taekwoon thinks he loves Hakyeon like this, spread out beneath him, giving Taekwoon every bit of himself, eyes half-lidded and mouth shiny and wet. Hakyeon moves his legs down to wrap them around Taekwoon’s waist, and Taekwoon takes the opportunity to kiss him, groaning at how Hakyeon’s tongue curls around his, hot and needy and wanting.
Hakyeon leaves ten long scratches that burn into his back, and he hisses at the way they tingle, exposed, but Hakyeon’s too far gone to notice, whining high in his throat as he urges Taekwoon to go faster. They’re both close now, and Taekwoon laces their fingers together, gently squeezing when Hakyeon grips him desperately, his ring digging painfully into Taekwoon’s skin.
Hakyeon comes first with a sharp cry, and Taekwoon follows, not long after, collapsing on top of Hakyeon in a exhausted mess of sweat and come. They lie still, trying to catch their breath, and Hakyeon brushes the hair out of his eyes for him, tucking away the stray locks behind his ear.
The sun is high now, seeping in through their window, bright and relentless, and Hakyeon kisses him slowly, easily, openly, and Taekwoon gives him all that he has.
#
Changwon Central Station is much busier than it had been when Taekwoon first arrived, almost three weeks ago. Tourists gather in their respective groups, chattering in their native tongues.
Taekwoon’s things are packed away in his bags, and Hakyeon’s mother had pushed an extra bag filled with food and treats on him for the trip. He passes the canvas shopping bag into his left hand when it starts to cut into his right.
Hakyeon is silent in front of him, playing with the buttons on Taekwoon’s shirt and smoothing out wrinkles that don’t exist.
Taekwoon wants to kiss the sadness of Hakyeon’s eyes, but they’re in public and he knows better, so he lets Hakyeon continue to fuss over the things that don’t matter, even as his departure time ticks nearer and nearer.
“I’ll see you soon,” Taekwoon reassures him, pressing a thumb to the corner of Hakyeon’s eye. (It comes away wet.)
“Yeah,” says Hakyeon, not looking up. “Um, practice your drills and your defense. Stop going easy on Wonshik, his footwork’s not going to get better if you keep babying him.”
Taekwoon smiles and nods. “I could say the same to you, for Sanghyuk.”
“Sanghyuk is a baby,” murmurs Hakyeon. he sniffs quietly, and Taekwoon pulls him close, lets him bury his face in Taekwoon’s shoulder, obscured from the noisy crowds. He pats the back of Hakyeon’s head soothingly, ignoring the way his own chest feels like it’s about to cave in on itself.
“I love you,” he says quietly, wiping away the moisture on Hakyeon’s cheek with the sleeve of his cardigan.
Hakyeon swallows and rubs at his eyes furiously. “Why would you say that,” he says in a strangled voice, blinking fast.
“Because it’s true,” says Taekwoon, pressing a swift kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you in August, yeah? It won’t be that long, so practice hard.”
Hakyeon nods. His eyes are red, and he still looks so sad, so Taekwoon cups his face with his free hand and kisses him quick, but soft, brushing Hakyeon’s lips with his thumb when he pulls away. Hakyeon swallows again, and his voice is stronger this time when he looks at Taekwoon and says, “I love you. I’ll see you soon?”
Taekwoon smiles. He fixes Hakyeon’s hair and gives his cheeks one last pat. “August 3rd,” he says.
Hakyeon returns the smile, and echoes, “August 3rd.” His eyes don’t quite carry the same level of happiness Taekwoon’s gotten used to seeing, but they are hopeful, and that makes Taekwoon feel a little better.
“We’ll go to Myeongdong,” promises Taekwoon.
“Okay,” says Hakyeon. “I’d like that.”
An announcement crackles across the station, and Hakyeon brushes an invisible piece of lint off his shoulders. “You have to go,” he says.
“I do,” agrees Taekwoon.
Hakyeon steps back slowly. “Be safe,” he says, tugging at the hem of his sweater.
“Be careful,” Taekwoon returns, earning a small smile. “And good luck,” he adds. “With school.”
There’s another announcement, and Taekwoon glances up at the clock, frowning at how the hands seem to be speeding along much faster than they should. Hakyeon gives him a little wave, and Taekwoon switches the bag of food back over to his right hand. It aches painfully where the strap cuts into him.
“I’ll call you when I get to Seoul,” says Taekwoon.
“Okay,” says Hakyeon. He scratches behind his ear, and Taekwoon glances at the ring--his ring--on Hakyeon’s finger. He feels a little more relaxed.
He heads towards his train, turning back at the bottom of the stairs to see Hakyeon still looking after him, and waves.
Hakyeon waves back.
epilogue.
“I’ve done a lot of things,” Hakyeon is saying on Taekwoon’s tv screen at an end-of-the-season press conference. “I’ve been to a lot of places. I’ve played in tournaments and world cups, and I’m really grateful. I’m really grateful for Coach Hwang who scouted me back in high school and asked me to play for the best team in Korea. I never dreamed that I would be playing for the AFC Cup, and I never imagined that I would be a part of the FIFA World Cup.
“I’m also grateful for my teammates because--” he looks down, and Taekwoon can see him struggle to maintain his composure.
His hand twitches towards the remote. “--I’m grateful,” Hakyeon continues, a slight waver in his voice. “I’m really grateful, for my teammates, who have always given me everything I asked of them and more, and I have asked for a lot.”
The room laughs, and Hakyeon laughs too, eyes shining. "And for my family? I don't know how to thank you. I don't know the words to describe how much it's meant to me to have had you encourage me since before I could walk. My father, for giving me my first ball; my mother for believing in me even when I didn't believe in myself; and my sister, for being my goalkeeper, even when she was studying for her college entrance exams.
“I’m really thankful, that they could indulge me for as long as they have. I hope I’ve been able to show them that I am no longer the youngest son Hakyeon, the baby of the family, but someone with the strength to carry our family forward. My sister has been doing an incredible job, and I hope to be able to do the same."
“What are your thoughts on your last season?” someone asks.
“Well,” says Hakyeon, grinning. “I can’t think of a better way to finish my career than to have brought the AFC Cup back to Korea.”
The room erupts in cheers and applause at his words, and Hakyeon stands up along with the rest of the team. “Thank you,” he says in closing. “For all the support you given me and Ulsan Hyundai Horangi. I love you. Thank you.”
Taekwoon smiles at the screen as he watches Hakyeon wave at the cameras. The clamor of the crowd is faded out, and the reporter steps back into view, segueing neatly over to the weather.
“Oh God,” says Hakyeon, from behind him. Taekwoon clicks off the tv, and Hakyeon shuts the door to the apartment as he toes off his shoes. “Why are you watching that?”
“I liked what you said,” Taekwoon says, lying down for a well-deserved afternoon nap. “It was very sincere.”
Hakyeon mutters something that sounds suspiciously like how he wasn’t going to cry you know.
“Your orientation packet came,” Taekwoon says. “I put it on the table.”
He dozes to the rustling of papers and opens his eyes only when he feels the sofa sink under Hakyeon’s familiar weight. Hakyeon is still holding the giant envelope from Hanyang, and he’s smiling softly at Taekwoon. Taekwoon blinks at him.
“I love you,” says Hakyeon, twisting the gold ring on his finger that has since replaced the platinum one Taekwoon gave him a year ago.
Taekwoon cocks his head. “I love you, too,” he says without hesitation. his heart beats reassuringly, and he lets Hakyeon sprawl out on top of him, tucking his chin over the top of Hakyeon’s head.
“I’m tired,” complains Hakyeon. “I thought retiring was supposed to relax me.”
“So sleep,” says Taekwoon, running a hand down Hakyeon’s back.
“Shut up,” says Hakyeon, burrowing deeper into Taekwoon's chest. “I’m getting there.”
ROLLS OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH
DO YOU LOVE ME YET MYSA
AM I YOUR FAVORITE