Kiss Me Like You’re Not Married.

Tae-hyun blinked awake to the pale grey of morning light slicing through the blinds. His son's small form was curled up between him and his wife, one hand fisted in Tae's shirt, the other pressed to his own cheek like he was mid-dream.

His phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, a reminder of wanting to check for any new messages from a specific guy.

He reached for it quietly, careful not to wake them.

1 new message.

From Joon-Won. Sent at 3:12 a.m.

He opened it with dry eyes and a reluctant curiosity already coiling in his stomach.

Joon-Won:

'If I told you what I'm thinking right now, I wouldn't sleep at all.'

Tae-hyun stared at it. Lips parting slightly.

Not a voice note. Not a casual emoji. A line that held weight. Timing. Restraint. Need.

He swallowed.

Then locked his phone without responding. He couldn't.. not yet. Not with the warmth of his son's hand still clinging to him like a lifeline.

But the rest of the morning was a blur.

His wife was already busy in the kitchen by the time he got out of bed, humming some trot song as she packed their son's lunch. She didn't notice that he barely touched his coffee. Or that his phone never left the table.

He read the message again. Four more times the whole morning at the dining table.

.

.

.

Later at work, Tae-hyun sat in his car in the underground parking lot longer than necessary. The office lights above flickered behind the glass doors, but he couldn't make himself move.

Another message blinked onto his screen.

Joon-Won:

'You're quite today. Should I be worried?'

Tae-hyun smirked. Not because it was funny.. but because it was exactly the kind of message that made it worse for him.

Tae-hyun:

'Or maybe I'm just waiting for you to say more.'

Three dots. Then gone.

Then came a call.

He let it ring once, twice. Picked up before the third.

"Didn't think you'd actually call."

Joon-Won's voice came low and smooth on the other end. "Didn't think you'd actually answer."

...

Over the next week, the voice calls became a routine.

Sometimes short, five minutes between meetings, filled with teasing silences and vague compliments disguised as jokes.

Other times, late at night, with their voices dipped in quiet exhaustion, trailing into flirtation they pretended not to notice.

"You sound like you're already in bed," Joon murmured one night.

"I am," Tae-hyun replied softly. "And you?"

"Half undressed. But not asleep."

"Must be the gin."

"Or you."

They always danced around it.

But it was changing. Tae could feel it.

And in the middle of all this, the normal never stopped.

He went to family dinners. He picked his son up from daycare when his wife couldn't sometimes, even saying hi to Ha-eun whenever he'd bump into her there. He helped his wife choose tiles for the bathroom remodel.

But somewhere behind it all, he was waiting.

For Joon-Won's next message. His voice. His silence. Anything.

Some nights, he'd hear his phone buzz across the room and try to ignore it… only to give in five minutes later, walking fast to check it like a teenager again.

Until one night…

Joon-Won:

'I want to see you again. Not just hear you. Soon.'

Tae-hyun didn't respond for almost an hour. Trying not to let the message make his heart jump out of his chest as he make himself busy with anything around the house before he got a hold of his phone again later on. Staring at the message again with his teeth grazing his bottom lip.

Then finally typed:

Tae-hyun:

'I know a place. Lowkey. Quite.. you free this Friday?'

No emoji. No joke. Just pure, pulsing intention. And Friday was tomorrow.

Joon-Won's reply came less than a minute later.

Joon-Won:

'Send me the address. And wear something that'll make it hard for me to look away.'

He didn't reply to that message. Not with words, anyway.

He'd just left it on Read, knowing Joon-Won would see that and know exactly what it meant.

And Joon? He didn't double-text.

Didn't need to.

That was the part that made it worse. The restraint. The waiting. The fact that every small interaction was intentional.

After dinner later that night, his wife was tidying up in the kitchen, Tae-hyun sat on the couch in the living room with his son playing with a car toy on the carpet, the tv on low and scrolled through his wardrobe app like a high schooler trying to dress for a crush.

Pathetic.

He knew it. But it didn't stop him.

He was just about to lock his phone when it buzzed.

Joon-Won:

'What time tomorrow?'

Tae stared at it a little too long.

Then typed back:

Tae-hyun:

'7p.m. I'll send you the pin. Don't be too late. I hate waiting.'

A minute later, another buzz.

Joon-Won:

'I like when you get bossy. Might have to punish you for that.'

Tae-hyun dropped his phone onto the couch next to him with a breathless scoff, covering his face with one hand like that would cool the heat in his ears. Thankfully his wife was still in the kitchen so she didn't see the mess he was in.

"Fuck."

.

.

.

Tomorrow came faster than Tae-hyun had expected.

It was 6:42 p.m. when he zipped up his jacket as a cover up for what he had underneath, looked at himself in the mirror, and almost laughed.

It was all because last night before he slept, Joon-won had sent one last message right after they ended their call that made him choose this specific shirt.

'What the hell are you doing.. Tae?' He though to himself.

He didn't usually look at himself this long before leaving the house. But tonight, he stood still, studying the way the black button-up curved slightly at the waist, how the sleeves hugged his arms just right, the slight peek of a chain under his collar that wasn't usually visible.

Not too much. Not too little. Casual enough to deny intention. Sharp enough to hint at it.

He ran a hand through his hair.

Again. And again. Until it finally fell in that carefully messy way.

The place he picked wasn't flashy, Deluna's, a low-lit lounge tucked on the third floor of a backstreet building near the Han River. Not the kind of place anyone they knew would be. Not the kind of place anyone married would suggest.

It had live jazz some nights. Plush velvet seating. A bar that wrapped in a half-circle around the bartender like it was made for quiet confessions.

They served strong drinks and even stronger silences.

He sent Joon-Won the pin at 6:18 p.m., added nothing else.

Didn't need to.

6:53 p.m.

He was already there. Sitting at the bar.

Alone.

Two seats away from anyone else, nursing a single gin and tonic he hadn't even touched yet. Just pressing the glass against the condensation ring it left behind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out.

Joon-Won:

'Just parking. Two minutes.'

Tae-hyun didn't respond.

He locked the screen and pushed the glass away.

His throat felt dry, not from thirst, but from anticipation.

He adjusted in his seat. Crossed one leg over the other. Then uncrossed them.

Even now, he tried to keep his body language closed, casual, unbothered but everything in him was wired. Waiting.

He checked the time again.

6:59 p.m.

Tae-hyun leaned forward, elbows on the counter, eyes fixed on the amber glow behind the liquor bottles.

He needed something to do with his hands. Something to keep his pulse from showing in his fingers.

He picked up the gin and tonic and took a slow sip.

It was dry. Bitter. Cold.

Like reality, maybe.

But it did nothing to cool the heat in his chest.

His knee bounced under the bar, quiet and agitated. He told himself it was just nerves. That it wasn't about him walking in. Not really. That it wouldn't matter what shirt he wore just because Joon had mentioned it once, or how his hair fell tonight.

That was a lie.

Suddenly.. there was a faint shift in the air behind him.

It was subtle but Tae-hyun felt it.

Noticed the way the bartender's posture subtly changed, the way the conversation near the door paused half a second too long.

And then.. the smell.

Subtle. Clean. Deep. Something expensive.

Faint sandalwood under a sharper, spiced citrus. Not overpowering. Just… there. Like memory.

He didn't have to turn around. He knew.

"Tae-hyun," a voice said low, near his ear.. not close enough to be indecent. Just close enough to land in his spine.

Tae didn't flinch.

He turned his head slowly, eyes flicking upward toward the owner of that deep voice.

And there he was.

Joon-Won standing right behind where he's sitting.

Hair slightly undone in a way that looked too precise to be accidental. Dark gray button up shirt on, sleeves rolled at the forearm, showing just enough skin to make Tae blink slower.

The veins in his hands. The curve of his wristwatch. His ring was no where to be seen. The slight tension in his jaw like he hadn't had time to decompress all day.

He looked too calm. Too sharp. Too… intentional.

Tae exhaled through his nose and gestured to the seat beside him.

"You're late."

Joon-Won smirked, not even glancing at his watch. "You said 7."

"It's 7:02."

"Couldn't resist making you wait a little."

Then a pause.

"Figured you might like that."

The sentence hung between them.. light, casual, and loaded.

Tae-hyun didn't respond.

Didn't need to.

Instead, he turned back toward the bar, and this time… when he took a sip of his drink, it burned.

The stool beside him shifted with a low scrape as Joon-Won sat down, one leg crossing over the other, forearm resting along the edge of the bar.

Tae-hyun glanced.. quickly, like it didn't matter.. then glanced again. Slower this time.

The man was unfair.

Black dress pants tailored just enough to hint at the strength in his legs when he moved. A crisp gray shirt tucked loosely at the waist, sleeves rolled up just past the elbows, revealing forearms that looked like they'd been sculpted by quiet, disciplined effort. No tie. A single button undone. The line of his collarbone just barely visible.

Even his hair, ash-blond and neatly pushed back had fallen out of place slightly, softening the sharpness of his features just enough to make him look approachable.

But Tae knew better now.

There was nothing casual about Joon-Won.

That man walked like he owned the room and wanted everyone know it.

And tonight… he smelled like he did, too.

Tae-hyun took another sip. This one slower.

"You look different," he said softly over the rim of his glass.

Joon-Won lifted an eyebrow with curiosity. "Disappointed?"

Tae let out a breath through a faint smirk. "Didn't say that."

Joon-Won tilted his head slightly, eyes skimming over him in return now, slower than necessary. Measuring.

Tae was used to people looking at him.

He was not used to someone looking at him like this.

"You wore it," Joon said, voice low.

Tae blinked, acting like he didn't understand what Joon meant. "Wore what?"

Joon turned his head toward him slightly, lips curving.

"The shirt."

A pause.

"The one that made me send a message I shouldn't have sent."

Tae knew which one he meant. The deep charcoal button-up that hugged his chest when he moved. Subtle sheen. Thin fabric.

The shirt that made him hesitate before putting it on. Then wear it anyway because of that same text he had received.

He glanced at Joon-Won from the side, meeting his gaze calm, unreadable, burning.

Tae smirked, but his voice was quieter now. "You think I wore it for you?"

Joon didn't smile.

Didn't look away either.

"I hope you didn't," he said. "Because if you did…"

He trailed off.

Tae waited. Curious. Challenged.

"…then I don't know how long I'll keep being polite."

Then silence.

The jazz continued. Someone across the bar laughed. The bartender placed a fresh glass of something dark in front of Joon-Won, but neither of them moved to drink.

Tae-hyun raised an eyebrow, tone playfully flat. "Polite's not your strong suit anyway."

Joon's mouth twitched, but he didn't argue.

Instead, he leaned just a little closer, not enough for anyone to notice.

"…That last button on your shirt," he said suddenly, voice low.

Tae froze, almost imperceptibly.

"What about it?"

Joon's eyes flicked down once, then back up to meet his.

"It's holding on for dear life."

Tae laughed. Quiet. Heat crawling up his neck before he could stop it.

"You should try blinking sometime," he muttered. Hinting at how intensely Joon-won is staring at the way the shirt hugged his body.

"You should try not tempting me."

That one landed… harder than it should've.

A silence fell between them, but it wasn't awkward.

It was full.

Tae-hyun turned away again, eyes flicking down to his drink. But he didn't lift it.

Instead, he felt the way his heart beat against the fabric of his chest. The same chest Joon-Won was clearly staring at not a moment ago.

He remembered that message.

The one Joon hadn't sent until almost 2 a.m., hours after their voice call.

'You should know.. that shirt you wore at dinner really made it hard to look away.'

And now here they were.

His eyes. Looking.

Still not looking away.

The moment passed. Or at least, it pretended to.

They both sat back in silence again, nursing their drinks. Tae-hyun felt the heat still buzzing under his skin, that sharp, simmering sensation that only came from almost doing something you shouldn't.

He could feel Joon-Won's eyes still on him. Not directly. But not hidden, either.

"So," Tae finally said, "are you gonna keep looking at my shirt or actually ask how my day was?"

Joon-Won didn't laugh. Didn't smile. Didn't even blink.

"I know how your day was."

Tae raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Joon set his glass down.

"I know you got three hours of sleep. You were late to your first meeting because your kid spilled juice on your shirt. You took your lunch alone in the office. And you stared at your phone too long before replying to me because you didn't want to seem too eager."

Tae blinked. His throat dried slightly.

"And how do you know that?" he said, carefully.

Joon leaned forward, slow, measured, elbows resting on the bar like he was about to confess something. He didn't touch Tae. Didn't need to.

"I read people for a living."

Tae exhaled through a faint scoff, looking away to hide how that line hit. "Or maybe you've just been thinking about me too much."

Joon didn't deny it. He was too quiet now.

Then…

"Come with me."

Tae turned, confused.

Joon had already stood, placing a few bills beside his drink, eyes on Tae-hyun with a calm that felt too controlled.

Tae blinked. "What?"

"Not home," Joon said quietly. "Just… come."

Tae hesitated. Heart hammering as he slowly stood up. "Where?"

Joon's jaw flexed once, his voice a little lower now, like something in him had finally split open.

"Anywhere with fewer eyes."

Tae felt something spark in his chest… something electric and sudden. But he didn't say anything.

He just stared. Studying the man in front of him. The way he held his posture stiff, hands flexing subtly at his sides like he was trying not to touch him.

Like he couldn't anymore.

Tae smirked faintly, trying to keep control. "You could've just said you wanted to be alone with me."

"I've wanted to do a lot more than that," Joon muttered under his breath.

It wasn't loud. But it was real.

And Tae heard all of it.

His skin flushed, his throat dry. Something sharp twisted in his stomach.

Before he could speak, Joon stepped closer, close enough for the air between them to heat like a live wire.

"If you keep looking at me like that," he said low, "I'm going to do something you can't take back."

Tae swallowed hard.

And in a voice that was barely a whisper:

"Then stop holding back."

Snap.

Joon's hand reached.. not for Tae's waist, not his wrist. But the back of his neck.

It wasn't rough.

But it was firm.

And it happened fast.

Tae-hyun barely had time to register the shift before Joon leaned in head beside his, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?" he whispered huskily with a low groan. "Wearing that shirt… touching my arm… whispering like that?"

Tae's breath hitched. His fingers gripped the edge of the bar, trying to not let his knees buckle under Joon-won sudden strong desires.

"I wasn't doing anything," he lied in a small shaky voice.

Joon pulled back just enough to look at him eyes dark now, jaw tight.

"Liar."

And before Tae could respond, before he could even think, Joon pressed his lips against his neck, just once, hot and fleeting.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a warning.

Or a promise. Maybe both.

Tae felt his pulse leap to his throat. He didn't move away.

Joon's lips ghosted over the curve of Tae's neck, heat and breath and restraint all pressed into a single heartbeat. Not a kiss. Not really.

But Tae's body responded anyway, his back arching ever so slightly, lips parting in a breath that barely escaped.

He didn't mean to turn his head. Didn't mean to let their mouths hover just a breath apart.

Didn't mean for their eyes to meet like that, his wide, heated, wanting. Craving.

And Joon-Won..

Something in him snapped when he saw the look in Tae-hyun eyes.

Their mouths crashed together.

There was no warning. No pause. Just pure want, two grown men clashing in the middle of a dimly lit bar booth like they were drowning and the other's mouth held air.

Joon-Won cupped Tae's jaw roughly, pulling him in like he'd been dying to do this for weeks.. because he had. Tae whimpered into the kiss, fingers clinging to Joon's forearm, feeling every taut muscle flex under his skin. It wasn't soft and It wasn't polite.

It was all tongue and teeth and breathless curses between gasps from Tae-hyun, like they didn't care if someone turned and saw, like they couldn't stop even if they did.

Then Tae bit Joon's lip, his arms slowly wrapping around his neck as he does so.

Joon groaned deeply into his mouth and deepened the kiss, one hand gripping Tae's waist, the other sliding behind his neck to keep him close, like he was terrified this was a dream and Tae might vanish if he let go.

Tae's heart pounded in his ears. He pulled back just an inch, lips swollen, panting softly from the intense kiss.

"What the hell are we doing?" he whispered, dazed as he stared up into Joon-won's hungry eyes through his lashes. Joon didn't answer.

Just pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed for a second, his voice tight and low and wrecked.

"Losing control."

And he kissed him again.

Softer this time but deeper. Slower. Like he wanted to remember the exact shape of Tae's mouth.

Like he needed to and Tae-hyun melted into it, pulling him closer by his neck.