Sentiments [CNU/Sandeul]
Corporate!AU
Installment II.
with established relationships
non-chronological
(previous installments: I.)
Sentiments | CNU/Sandeul, hinted CNU/Jinyoung | R | 1700w.
Jinyoung let Dongwoo have Junghwan on Fridays.
Theirs was the relationship that couldn’t possibly be described in a word (complicated, perhaps) or a chronology without seriously calling their moral standards into question. Theirs was the relationship that depended on mistakes so that they could be mended, that depended on impulse so that they could move forward.
Fridays would eventually devolve into what they’d like to call “group therapy” days; Sunwoo and Chansik eventually joined them for casual meals and nights on the town, lost in the dazzling lights and impetuous attitude of the urban streets, but before that, it was Dongwoo and Junghwan, ironically, who initiated the tradition. And in between it all, before everyone had enjoyed their fill of each other, the sex also began with Dongwoo and Junghwan.
Junghwan enjoyed sex with Dongwoo. It was slow, languid, messy, and a mix of everything that Dongwoo both demonstrated and repressed in the office. They usually migrated from the bar to Dongwoo’s apartment and stood on opposite sides of the elevator on the ride up, being careful not to touch each other until Dongwoo managed to get the door open (he fumbled with the key sometimes when Junghwan stood particularly close behind him). More often than not, Junghwan was the one who pushed Dongwoo against the door and tugged his tie loose, breathing down Dongwoo’s neck and grinding their hips together. He enjoyed the challenge of testing Dongwoo, wondering how long Dongwoo could keep it together before he’d finally make use of those broad shoulders of his and grab Junghwan by the forearms, backing him into the couch. When Junghwan gasped and tangled his hands into Dongwoo’s hair, messing the slicked style he usually had going on, it would occasionally remind Junghwan of the Dongwoo he’d first met in his office, hair wavy and tangled, falling over his face and hinting and the indiscernible relationship they’d develop over the months, years.
It had begun on Junghwan’s first day, when Jinyoung asked him to deliver coffee to Dongwoo’s office. “Why can’t you do it yourself?” Junghwan made the mistake of asking.
“First rule in the business world: don’t question your boss,” Jinyoung said, handing two K-cup cartridges to Junghwan and patting the back of his hand. Junghwan’s juvenile way of talking back was what endeared him to Jinyoung, though, and when Junghwan stepped out of his office, Jinyoung leaned his head on his elbow and smiled fondly.
Junghwan found Dongwoo in the office down the hall-which looked a lot like Jinyoung’s but with less pictures and more unfinished paperwork-turning back and forth in his chair, legs crossed, and texting someone on his phone. Dongwoo had worn his hair down and shaggy that day, appearing a bit disheveled, and this, fortunately, made Dongwoo seem a lot more approachable than the rest of the employees at the office. Junghwan had been introduced to Chansik earlier that day by one Cha Sunwoo, who looked Junghwan up and down condescendingly and with an air of importance. Sunwoo’s voice was low and commanding, and Chansik, who stood some 180cm tall next to him, hadn’t said a word. Chansik had the body of a gangly college student, but seemed professionally fit and somewhat unreadable, and Junghwan subconsciously found himself squinting at Chansik, who held a leather briefcase and was wearing an important-looking watch.
“From Jinyoung,” Junghwan said, shifting some of the paperwork on Dongwoo’s desk and setting the coffee down in the empty spot he’d made. Dongwoo kept his desk organized but teeming, and Junghwan struggled to keep the stacks of paper in their proper upright position. Dongwoo glanced at him but didn’t say anything, giving Junghwan the impression that he might’ve been mistaken in his initial assessment of Dongwoo’s personality. “Um,” Junghwan said. He glanced at Dongwoo’s phone. “Is that your friend you’re texting?”
Dongwoo raised an eyebrow and looked up at Junghwan again. “It’s actually Jinyoung. I guess you could say he’s a friend.”
Junghwan, at that point, began stalling. Despite its minimalist decor, Dongwoo’s office exuded a less intimidating air than Jinyoung’s, perhaps because it was smaller and lacked the windows that overlooked the rest of the city and reminded one of how high they’d have to climb to become a blip in the corner of Jinyoung’s eye. That was how Junghwan interpreted things in the beginning, anyway. “How do you make friends in the corporate world, anyway?” asked Junghwan.
Dongwoo set down his phone and rested his hands on his knees. “Uh, I guess you go out to bars and stuff. Make connections. It’s not as easy as in college, that’s for sure. Are you the new intern here or something?”
“Full time,” Junghwan replied.
Dongwoo laughed. “It’s just like Jinyoung to make an actual employee start by delivering coffee.”
Junghwan smiled hesitantly back at Dongwoo.
Three weeks later, loyal to his word, Dongwoo invited Junghwan out with him after work in more of a house-warming type of initiation. The news floated around the office rather quickly, with Jinyoung not too keen on the invitation, but his curiosity about Dongwoo’s uncharacteristic initiative winning out in the end. Dongwoo and Junghwan took public transportation directly from the office to a nearby bar and started off with a rather banal conversation about weather patterns for the next few days and whether or not Jinyoung would start giving Junghwan tasks more engaging than delivering coffee and shredding paper.
Alcohol made Dongwoo a lot more talkative, Junghwan found. “He’s a character,” Dongwoo said, referring to Jinyoung. “We go way back. To college days.”
At the time, Junghwan’s curiosity about Dongwoo and Jinyoung’s relationship hadn’t quite developed into its full-fledged intensity yet. (After delivering several cups of coffee complimented by sealed notes and various office supplies to Dongwoo’s office, though, Junghwan would start questioning. Eventually, upon Junghwan’s request, many of the post-sex conversations between Dongwoo and Junghwan would turn out to be about Jinyoung. For a while, Junghwan found out more about Jinyoung from Dongwoo than he did from Jinyoung himself.) “He’s certainly demanding,” Junghwan mumbled.
Dongwoo stirred his drink and stared down into it. “He’s always been like that.” Dongwoo then smiled up at Junghwan, half of his mouth upturned, as if testing the waters. “But isn’t that what makes him kind of attractive?”
Dongwoo offered to drive Junghwan home that night. Junghwan had been living with his parents for the past couple of years after graduating from college, and he’d spent most of that time debating with them in which direction he should attempt to guide his life (and simultaneously depending on them for monetary support). And thus, he began to reason that if he were to come home late one Friday evening smelling of alcohol and dubious decisions, they wouldn’t let him see the light of day. Conveniently, Junghwan also had absolutely no conception of office politics and the etiquette of the business world.
Instead, the feeling he got when he stood up and the world shifted below his feet reminded him of college, the stench of alcohol and hookah bars, musk mixed with odors, rooms darkened and crowded with human bodies. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was taken back to that time.
So Junghwan asked, eyes still closed and face tinged with red, “Um, can I come over to your place?”
(Dongwoo was still sober enough to raise an eyebrow at the suggestion. But Junghwan was leaning on his shoulder, breath reeking of alcohol and something else, something hot and remarkably irresistible, and Dongwoo had been the one who’d bought Junghwan one too many drinks for the night.)
It began as a series of coincidences. Dongwoo’s apartment wasn’t dirty, but hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned in a while; it still smelled strongly of Dongwoo’s cologne. It wasn’t often that Dongwoo had guests over, so he poured them both a glass of wine, which Junghwan hesitantly accepted. Dongwoo turned on the stereo, which began by playing a slow-jazz song. He quickly then switched to the television, which flickered on a sex scene of some obscure late-night movie. Dongwoo didn’t notice this until he’d already slipped out of his jacket and turned to Junghwan, who flushed and was somewhere in between staring at Dongwoo and turning away.
It began as a series of coincidences, being in certain places when moments intersected them, past experiences and situations that eventually unfolded into the picture of Junghwan tangling his hands in Dongwoo’s hair as they moved against each other on the couch, still fully dressed and panting into each other’s necks, pleading desperately for release in each hiss of breath. Dongwoo palmed Junghwan through his slacks against his better judgment, and Junghwan let out a long, drawn-out moan that sent blood shooting straight to Dongwoo’s cock. It’d been a while since he’d been this turned on. (There had also been alcohol involved last time, alcohol and the taste of Jung Jinyoung.) The world spun and Junghwan’s breathless noises slipped inside Dongwoo’s button-down shirt, leaving a fiery trail against Dongwoo’s skin.
For Junghwan, the intensity of everything was magnified tenfold. He leaned up to kiss Dongwoo on the mouth and sucked harshly on his tongue, clinging to Dongwoo’s shoulders, his legs wrapped around Dongwoo’s hips. “Fuck,” he breathed, and Dongwoo seemed turned on by that, growling into Junghwan’s lips. When Junghwan came, he arched into Dongwoo, letting out a choked cry.
It could’ve been a casual thing if they’d left it at that. What Dongwoo didn’t account for when he slumped against the couch, still hard, was Junghwan slipping between his legs, unzipping his pants, tugging down his briefs, nuzzling his face into Dongwoo’s crotch. He didn’t account for Junghwan, in his clouded state, sucking him off and making obscene noises that drove Dongwoo crazy. He didn’t account for his own hand reaching to grasp Junghwan’s hair, his own hips thrusting shallowly as he fucked Junghwan’s mouth. He didn’t account for the come that trickled down the sides of Junghwan’s mouth as Junghwan looked up at him through his disheveled fringe.
(And then, they were in Dongwoo’s bed, sheets bunched up around tangled legs. Junghwan was curled up against Dongwoo’s broad chest, breathing into his skin. “He kissed me,” Junghwan hummed. “Jinyoung did. A couple weeks ago. I’d just begun reporting to him full time.”
Dongwoo silently wrapped an arm around Junghwan and hugged Junghwan to his chest.)
Installment II.
with established relationships
non-chronological
(previous installments: I.)
Sentiments | CNU/Sandeul, hinted CNU/Jinyoung | R | 1700w.
Jinyoung let Dongwoo have Junghwan on Fridays.
Theirs was the relationship that couldn’t possibly be described in a word (complicated, perhaps) or a chronology without seriously calling their moral standards into question. Theirs was the relationship that depended on mistakes so that they could be mended, that depended on impulse so that they could move forward.
Fridays would eventually devolve into what they’d like to call “group therapy” days; Sunwoo and Chansik eventually joined them for casual meals and nights on the town, lost in the dazzling lights and impetuous attitude of the urban streets, but before that, it was Dongwoo and Junghwan, ironically, who initiated the tradition. And in between it all, before everyone had enjoyed their fill of each other, the sex also began with Dongwoo and Junghwan.
Junghwan enjoyed sex with Dongwoo. It was slow, languid, messy, and a mix of everything that Dongwoo both demonstrated and repressed in the office. They usually migrated from the bar to Dongwoo’s apartment and stood on opposite sides of the elevator on the ride up, being careful not to touch each other until Dongwoo managed to get the door open (he fumbled with the key sometimes when Junghwan stood particularly close behind him). More often than not, Junghwan was the one who pushed Dongwoo against the door and tugged his tie loose, breathing down Dongwoo’s neck and grinding their hips together. He enjoyed the challenge of testing Dongwoo, wondering how long Dongwoo could keep it together before he’d finally make use of those broad shoulders of his and grab Junghwan by the forearms, backing him into the couch. When Junghwan gasped and tangled his hands into Dongwoo’s hair, messing the slicked style he usually had going on, it would occasionally remind Junghwan of the Dongwoo he’d first met in his office, hair wavy and tangled, falling over his face and hinting and the indiscernible relationship they’d develop over the months, years.
It had begun on Junghwan’s first day, when Jinyoung asked him to deliver coffee to Dongwoo’s office. “Why can’t you do it yourself?” Junghwan made the mistake of asking.
“First rule in the business world: don’t question your boss,” Jinyoung said, handing two K-cup cartridges to Junghwan and patting the back of his hand. Junghwan’s juvenile way of talking back was what endeared him to Jinyoung, though, and when Junghwan stepped out of his office, Jinyoung leaned his head on his elbow and smiled fondly.
Junghwan found Dongwoo in the office down the hall-which looked a lot like Jinyoung’s but with less pictures and more unfinished paperwork-turning back and forth in his chair, legs crossed, and texting someone on his phone. Dongwoo had worn his hair down and shaggy that day, appearing a bit disheveled, and this, fortunately, made Dongwoo seem a lot more approachable than the rest of the employees at the office. Junghwan had been introduced to Chansik earlier that day by one Cha Sunwoo, who looked Junghwan up and down condescendingly and with an air of importance. Sunwoo’s voice was low and commanding, and Chansik, who stood some 180cm tall next to him, hadn’t said a word. Chansik had the body of a gangly college student, but seemed professionally fit and somewhat unreadable, and Junghwan subconsciously found himself squinting at Chansik, who held a leather briefcase and was wearing an important-looking watch.
“From Jinyoung,” Junghwan said, shifting some of the paperwork on Dongwoo’s desk and setting the coffee down in the empty spot he’d made. Dongwoo kept his desk organized but teeming, and Junghwan struggled to keep the stacks of paper in their proper upright position. Dongwoo glanced at him but didn’t say anything, giving Junghwan the impression that he might’ve been mistaken in his initial assessment of Dongwoo’s personality. “Um,” Junghwan said. He glanced at Dongwoo’s phone. “Is that your friend you’re texting?”
Dongwoo raised an eyebrow and looked up at Junghwan again. “It’s actually Jinyoung. I guess you could say he’s a friend.”
Junghwan, at that point, began stalling. Despite its minimalist decor, Dongwoo’s office exuded a less intimidating air than Jinyoung’s, perhaps because it was smaller and lacked the windows that overlooked the rest of the city and reminded one of how high they’d have to climb to become a blip in the corner of Jinyoung’s eye. That was how Junghwan interpreted things in the beginning, anyway. “How do you make friends in the corporate world, anyway?” asked Junghwan.
Dongwoo set down his phone and rested his hands on his knees. “Uh, I guess you go out to bars and stuff. Make connections. It’s not as easy as in college, that’s for sure. Are you the new intern here or something?”
“Full time,” Junghwan replied.
Dongwoo laughed. “It’s just like Jinyoung to make an actual employee start by delivering coffee.”
Junghwan smiled hesitantly back at Dongwoo.
Three weeks later, loyal to his word, Dongwoo invited Junghwan out with him after work in more of a house-warming type of initiation. The news floated around the office rather quickly, with Jinyoung not too keen on the invitation, but his curiosity about Dongwoo’s uncharacteristic initiative winning out in the end. Dongwoo and Junghwan took public transportation directly from the office to a nearby bar and started off with a rather banal conversation about weather patterns for the next few days and whether or not Jinyoung would start giving Junghwan tasks more engaging than delivering coffee and shredding paper.
Alcohol made Dongwoo a lot more talkative, Junghwan found. “He’s a character,” Dongwoo said, referring to Jinyoung. “We go way back. To college days.”
At the time, Junghwan’s curiosity about Dongwoo and Jinyoung’s relationship hadn’t quite developed into its full-fledged intensity yet. (After delivering several cups of coffee complimented by sealed notes and various office supplies to Dongwoo’s office, though, Junghwan would start questioning. Eventually, upon Junghwan’s request, many of the post-sex conversations between Dongwoo and Junghwan would turn out to be about Jinyoung. For a while, Junghwan found out more about Jinyoung from Dongwoo than he did from Jinyoung himself.) “He’s certainly demanding,” Junghwan mumbled.
Dongwoo stirred his drink and stared down into it. “He’s always been like that.” Dongwoo then smiled up at Junghwan, half of his mouth upturned, as if testing the waters. “But isn’t that what makes him kind of attractive?”
Dongwoo offered to drive Junghwan home that night. Junghwan had been living with his parents for the past couple of years after graduating from college, and he’d spent most of that time debating with them in which direction he should attempt to guide his life (and simultaneously depending on them for monetary support). And thus, he began to reason that if he were to come home late one Friday evening smelling of alcohol and dubious decisions, they wouldn’t let him see the light of day. Conveniently, Junghwan also had absolutely no conception of office politics and the etiquette of the business world.
Instead, the feeling he got when he stood up and the world shifted below his feet reminded him of college, the stench of alcohol and hookah bars, musk mixed with odors, rooms darkened and crowded with human bodies. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was taken back to that time.
So Junghwan asked, eyes still closed and face tinged with red, “Um, can I come over to your place?”
(Dongwoo was still sober enough to raise an eyebrow at the suggestion. But Junghwan was leaning on his shoulder, breath reeking of alcohol and something else, something hot and remarkably irresistible, and Dongwoo had been the one who’d bought Junghwan one too many drinks for the night.)
It began as a series of coincidences. Dongwoo’s apartment wasn’t dirty, but hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned in a while; it still smelled strongly of Dongwoo’s cologne. It wasn’t often that Dongwoo had guests over, so he poured them both a glass of wine, which Junghwan hesitantly accepted. Dongwoo turned on the stereo, which began by playing a slow-jazz song. He quickly then switched to the television, which flickered on a sex scene of some obscure late-night movie. Dongwoo didn’t notice this until he’d already slipped out of his jacket and turned to Junghwan, who flushed and was somewhere in between staring at Dongwoo and turning away.
It began as a series of coincidences, being in certain places when moments intersected them, past experiences and situations that eventually unfolded into the picture of Junghwan tangling his hands in Dongwoo’s hair as they moved against each other on the couch, still fully dressed and panting into each other’s necks, pleading desperately for release in each hiss of breath. Dongwoo palmed Junghwan through his slacks against his better judgment, and Junghwan let out a long, drawn-out moan that sent blood shooting straight to Dongwoo’s cock. It’d been a while since he’d been this turned on. (There had also been alcohol involved last time, alcohol and the taste of Jung Jinyoung.) The world spun and Junghwan’s breathless noises slipped inside Dongwoo’s button-down shirt, leaving a fiery trail against Dongwoo’s skin.
For Junghwan, the intensity of everything was magnified tenfold. He leaned up to kiss Dongwoo on the mouth and sucked harshly on his tongue, clinging to Dongwoo’s shoulders, his legs wrapped around Dongwoo’s hips. “Fuck,” he breathed, and Dongwoo seemed turned on by that, growling into Junghwan’s lips. When Junghwan came, he arched into Dongwoo, letting out a choked cry.
It could’ve been a casual thing if they’d left it at that. What Dongwoo didn’t account for when he slumped against the couch, still hard, was Junghwan slipping between his legs, unzipping his pants, tugging down his briefs, nuzzling his face into Dongwoo’s crotch. He didn’t account for Junghwan, in his clouded state, sucking him off and making obscene noises that drove Dongwoo crazy. He didn’t account for his own hand reaching to grasp Junghwan’s hair, his own hips thrusting shallowly as he fucked Junghwan’s mouth. He didn’t account for the come that trickled down the sides of Junghwan’s mouth as Junghwan looked up at him through his disheveled fringe.
(And then, they were in Dongwoo’s bed, sheets bunched up around tangled legs. Junghwan was curled up against Dongwoo’s broad chest, breathing into his skin. “He kissed me,” Junghwan hummed. “Jinyoung did. A couple weeks ago. I’d just begun reporting to him full time.”
Dongwoo silently wrapped an arm around Junghwan and hugged Junghwan to his chest.)