Work Text:
Ga-on hates these kinds of events.
He hates dressing up in two extra layers on a Friday night well after work hours are over and he's exhausted. The noise and the energy he’s made to exude only drain his social battery further and he’s not even allowed the luxury of drinking enough to push him past buzzed. If he’d known that this would be his future as a popular judge, he might have considered his career path a little more carefully. Not when he could be curled up at home, on the large couch in Yo-han's study with Kkhomi at his feet and a book in his hands, pretending to read while he's just watching the other man do the same.
Instead, he's stuck here, holding a flute of champagne he hasn't touched his mouth against, nodding along to socialites who are trying to engage him in conversation about menial things, watching Kang Yo-han smile wide and pleasant, fake, as he mingles like Ga-on should probably be doing.
He watches Yo-han reach up to adjust his tie as he laughs at something someone in the small group that's formed around him says. Then, like he knows Ga-on is watching from across the room, his eyes, sharp and dark, flick over and meet his. Ga-on's mouth goes dry in an instant, caught out and pinned under the sudden attention, but he doesn't break away from the gaze. If the quirk in Yo-han's smirk is anything to go by he's amused.
It makes Ga-on burn.
Yo-han's hand, still on his tie, slides up, as he deftly but slow, dragging the knot of it higher against his throat. Ga-on swallows and he knows what Yo-han is trying to do, to remind him of. As if he'd forgotten three hours ago when they'd been getting dressed together.
It had been a long day at work, Ga-on's shoulders heavy with the weight of paperwork and data he still needed to work through over the weekend. Preparations for their next case. Then Yo-han had swept into their room and pulled Ga-on up, dragging him along to get ready for an upper-echelon party he wanted no part in.
"Do we have to?" Ga-on has asked for what must have been the third time, back turned to Yo-han as he buttoned up the cream-colored shirt he'd been handed. He’d received no answer, just two objects dropping on either shoulder, one a simple necktie colored dark red, the other, a bowtie the navy silk so dark it was practically black. Ga-on had sighed, reached up, and tugged on the red before dutifully turning so that Yo-han could do it up for him as he often insisted.
The older hadn't said anything as he looped the middle of the tie around Ga-on's neck and carefully began to tie it, his body close, legs almost pushed together. It's only when he'd finished off the knot that his mouth opened, and he leaned in even further, their fronts practically molding together.
"If you can be patient," Yo-han had taken the smaller portion of the tie and with his other hand tugged the knot up, the silk making it a seamless glide. Ga-on remembers gulping, Yo-han's voice was pitched low. Those eyes, having followed the track of his own hand, finally met Ga-on’s once the knot just touches the collar of his shirt.
"If you can be good," Ga-on's body had shuddered helplessly. “I'll give you a reward hmmm?"
Yo-han pressed the knot up higher, the pressure of the tie a pleasantly dangerous circle around Ga-on's throat and he hadn't been able to stop his mouth from dropping open, a gasp pulled from deep within his chest as he naturally fell back against the closet cabinet, at the mercy of the man caging him in.
Yo-han had just watched him for a moment, eyes hooded and wanting. Ga-on's reaction was enough of an answer for him. His expression shifted into its usual self-satisfied rendition of smugness and Yo-han let the tie go loose and stepped back to finish getting their coats selected, leaving Ga-on to collect himself and will away the arousal running in his blood like fire.
Now Yo-han, in a crowded room, was reminding him of that promise and it makes Ga-on scowl, almost petulant with his impatience. He didn't know how much longer he was expected to float around and shake hands, but he was reaching the bottom of his social energy barrel the longer this charade dragged on. From the smirk on Yo-han's lips, before he turns back to entertain his group again, Ga-on knows he is very aware of that fact too.
Another thirty minutes pass and Ga-on has been accosted by two older women not so subtly dropping hints about their multitudes of nieces and successful daughters. He is polite in steering the conversation when he can, but they're tenacious in their attempts to secure him for a blind date or two.
A presence comes up to his side and there's a palm sliding around his waist to lay heavy on Ga-on's lower back, just casual enough not to draw suspicion.
"Allow me to borrow my associate judge for a moment?" Yo-han isn't really asking and, before the women can even nod in acquiesces, is pulling him away, guiding him easily through the room. His hand moves so that it's closer to his opposite hip rather than his spine and Ga-on has to fight the urge to lean into the warm body close to his side.
“If we weren’t in public right now…”
Ga-on's mouth forms the words before his brain can even come up with a good enough finish. It's fine regardless because Yo-han tilts his head as they stop their travel through the room, taking momentary refuge in the shadow of the grand staircase, to whisper against the shell of Ga-on’s ear.
"You'd what, baby deer?" His breath is hot and Ga-on can't stop the shiver it causes even if he'd tried. If anyone were to look over and see them it would, perhaps, look as though they were simply having a conversation away from listening ears, and while they technically are, Ga-on highly doubts anyone might suspect what the undertones of it truly are.
Ga-on chooses not to answer that question and instead, gives in to his body's desire, dropping closer into Yo-han's sturdy frame.
"How much longer Hyung?" he can pretend, even just to himself, that he's not whining. The chuckle Ga-on receives however doesn't let the illusion remain for very long. The hand on his hip squeezes and, for a brief but glorious second, he's held tightly against Yo-han's side.
"Soon Ga-on-ah," the promise is sealed with a quick nip to his ear before the wall of heat that is Yo-han's body slides away from him, a more respectable, innocent, distance.
Soon, Ga-on thinks darkly to himself, watching as Yo-han pushes off the wall and leaves him with a smirk and a wink, could not come fast enough.