Work Text:
Deep in Thought
Chan was lost, drowning in an ocean of his thoughts.
He clung to a single piece of wood, trying to stay afloat, as if his life depended on it. Time passed, and he felt his grip loosening. Panic welled up in his chest, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He wasn’t ready to let go. He wasn’t ready to leave yet. He needed to stay. For—
“Chan?”
He flinched hard when a hand made contact with his bare shoulder. Turning his head, he was met with a face full of concern.
“Jisung…” Chan exhaled in relief, though Jisung’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“You good, baby?”
Chan hummed, “Yeah, I’m good.”
But Jisung didn’t look convinced. He walked over to the couch and sat beside Chan, then pulled him into his lap. The sudden action caught Chan off guard, and he let out a small yelp. Jisung wrapped his arms around Chan’s waist, holding him close.
Chan’s face reddened, his chest blooming with both embarrassment and a spark of hope. He knew Jisung was staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze. Not when they were this close, so close he could feel Jisung’s breath on his face.
He avoided those eyes.
Because moments like this—these small interactions and gentle touches—made Chan think even deeper. Was it real? Was it genuine? Or was it just a fleeting indulgence? The lust that had once dominated him and Jisung left him vulnerable, and he hated himself for allowing it. He knew it was only temporary, yet he let himself get attached anyway.
How could he not, when Jisung was so sweet and kind? Despite Chan’s best efforts to keep his distance, he had failed.
Jisung had a way of making him soft. He would casually invite Chan on dates, shrugging them off as if they were nothing. He would always ask if Chan had eaten, even when he came home late and exhausted. Never once did Jisung complain; instead, he’d offer Chan a small smile, despite his weariness.
And it did something to Chan, deep inside. He wanted to help Jisung, but he wasn’t experienced in work, especially not in an office setting. The only thing Chan could do was wait for Jisung to come home, trying to offer him some comfort in return.
But still, the roles felt reversed. Shouldn’t it be Chan asking Jisung if he was okay? Instead, it was Jisung who took care of him, making Chan feel small and vulnerable.
Jisung wasn’t like the cliché bad boy types in the romance books. He wasn’t cold-hearted, and there wasn’t a jealous girlfriend in the picture. No, Jisung was different. After knowing him for months, it was the little things Jisung did that softened Chan’s heart.
In other words, Chan was head over heels for him.
And Jisung knew it too.
Jisung would smirk whenever Chan froze at his touch, or when their skin accidentally brushed. It sent shivers down Chan’s spine every time Jisung leaned in and whispered,
“You’re so sensitive, babe.”
But Chan being Chan, he tried to ignore the burning sensation, pretending it didn’t affect him.
However, Chan was only human, and he couldn’t stop himself from feeling. He let himself be blinded by love, and his craving for Jisung only grew stronger day by day. He hated how deeply he was affected by the man.
“Chan, look at me.”
Chan realized the truth then.
He felt helpless, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he was overwhelmed—far more than usual. The feeling of being used and discarded had haunted him for weeks.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Their relationship was only for business. This marriage was only for business, for both his and Jisung’s sake.
It had all started with an agreement: Chan was never to get attached, and he had scoffed at the idea, proudly telling Jisung that he never would.
But look where he stood now.
The agreement had been clear. They were only supposed to be together and act as a married couple for a year. Chan had laughed it off, thinking it would be an easy job. He told himself that as long as they didn’t bother each other, their lives would remain normal—like an employer and employee.
But blame it on the small interactions. Jisung greeting him every morning, asking if he’d slept well. Chan couldn’t be selfish and pretend nothing had happened, so he unconsciously started playing his part as Jisung’s husband.
He took care of the house: washing, cooking, cleaning. Even when Jisung told him to let the maids handle it, Chan couldn’t stay still.
It still puzzled Chan how he became so concerned when Jisung was late coming home. He would wait for him, sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over his shoulders, staring at the door.
Day by day, Chan realized that he had developed those forbidden feelings. And deep down, he knew Jisung felt the same.
Chan didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he wasn’t blind. He saw the worry in Jisung’s eyes every time he came home and found Chan fighting sleep, waiting for him.
Jisung cared. He cared for Chan and took care of him in silence.
Like that one time when Chan accidentally cut himself while trying to reach a glass from the cabinet. It was too high, and Chan had been too lazy to grab a stool, so he tried to manage with his fingers. The glass slipped, shattering on the floor.
Panicked, Chan started picking up the shards with his bare hands, only to cut himself in the process. Just then, Jisung walked in. He had been on the phone but dropped everything the moment he saw Chan’s bleeding hand.
Jisung rushed over, pulling Chan to the sink. He pressed Chan’s injured hand under the running water, applying gentle pressure to the cut. He didn’t say a word, just took care of him, calmly and tenderly.
That night, Jisung asked Chan to stay put while he cleaned up the mess. Chan sat on a stool, watching Jisung’s back as he swept up the broken glass. There was something so domestic about the way Jisung moved, something that made Chan let out a small giggle.
Jisung didn’t realize he had been frowning until he heard the giggle. His heart softened, and he turned to Chan with a confused expression.
“You just look so... real,” Chan said, waving his injured hand slightly.
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you look like my real husband,” Chan replied, scratching his nape awkwardly.
Jisung snorted, “Duh, I am your real husband.”
Chan was taken aback by the response and didn’t say anything after that. But it made him think more.
Their interactions didn’t stop there. After that night in the kitchen, Jisung became bolder in his affection. He knew Chan wouldn’t protest.
If words weren’t enough to affect Chan, then the casual touches certainly were. The way Jisung would ruffle Chan’s hair, pinch his cheeks, or leave little notes stuck to the fridge—reminders to wait for him for dinner or just simple messages to brighten Chan’s day.
Over time, those small gestures grew into something more. Jisung started wrapping his arms around Chan’s waist from behind, resting his chin on Chan’s shoulder. With an innocent smile, he’d ask, “What are you doing?”
And Chan, trying to keep his guard up, would roll his eyes and reply sarcastically, “What do you think I’m doing?”
Jisung would laugh and continue teasing him with flirty comments, making Chan’s face and ears burn with embarrassment. And then, satisfied, Jisung would let go, laughing as he walked away.
It was hard to stay mad at Jisung when he knew exactly how to break down Chan’s defences. Chan would always give in, forgetting why he was upset in the first place.
But then, the worst came: the agreement.
Sometimes, Chan blamed himself for being selfish, but half of it was Jisung's fault too. If only Chan hadn't been so desperate to earn money for his sister's surgery, and if Jisung hadn't made that offer…
Chan needed the money, and when Jisung proposed the idea of becoming his fake partner and husband in exchange for cash, Chan had accepted it without hesitation.
He hadn’t thought of the consequences. He had signed the contract for the sake of his sister, who was lying ill in the hospital. He needed the money to save her, and he was grateful that Jisung had been able to help.
Thanks to Jisung’s offer, Chan’s sister was doing fine now—getting better day by day. But looking back on everything that had happened, Chan realized how far they had come.
It had been six months since they’d entered this “fake” marriage. (Though, it wasn’t truly fake, because they had signed real marriage papers, overseen by Jisung’s lawyer.)
Six months since they had started seeing each other as more than just strangers. Small hugs, quick kisses on the cheek or forehead, and sometimes, a peck on the lips before Jisung left for work or came home. And every time Chan came out of his room, Jisung would be there, leaning against the wall, waiting for him.
And believe it or not, it never failed to make Chan freeze in his tracks. He still wasn’t used to it, and he never knew how to react. He didn’t return the kisses, but Jisung never seemed to mind.
Well, Chan minded. He didn’t want Jisung to think he didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t want Jisung to think that he didn’t want him. Because in truth, he did feel the same.
Chan admitted to himself that he loved Jisung—loved him so much. The emotions that had built up inside him over the past six months were ones he had never experienced before.
Jisung had left a lasting impact on him.
Chan had never had anyone love him, care for him, or look after him when he was sick. No one. His parents had abandoned him and his sister when he was twelve, leaving him to take care of her on his own. He had worked from a young age, giving up his education just to put food on the table.
He had learned to be independent. But no matter how hard he worked, it was never enough. His lack of education had limited his opportunities.
So when Jisung entered his life, everything changed. Chan, who had built walls around himself, who had convinced himself that he didn’t need anyone’s help, now found himself in someone else’s arms.
Jisung’s arms.
And in those arms, Chan felt secure.
He could feel the walls he had built crumbling down, all because of one man: Han Jisung.
Han Jisung, who had shown him that love was real. That love could heal. And Chan just needed to be strong enough to accept it, even if it hurt.
Jisung taught Chan so much, and it was overwhelming. The patience Jisung showed, the way he dealt with Chan’s insecurities—it all became too much to keep bottled up.
Chan no longer hesitated to let his tears fall.
In front of Jisung, he didn’t have to be strong. He didn’t have to pretend everything was okay, not when Jisung was the one holding him together.
On nights when Chan’s past would come crashing down on him, when the weight of his responsibilities became too much, he would cry in Jisung’s arms. And Jisung would hold him close, comforting him with soft whispers and gentle strokes.
Chan had never felt so blessed in his life.
Looking up into Jisung’s eyes now, he saw everything. Love, patience, understanding—all of it was there, written in Jisung’s gaze. Chan pulled him closer, letting their foreheads touch.
Those three words were right there, waiting to be spoken. The eight letters he had been holding back for so long.
He wanted Jisung to know how much he meant to him.
"Sung..." Chan’s voice trembled with emotion.
Jisung hummed, never breaking eye contact.
Chan took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before letting the words slip out in a soft confession. “I love you.”
Silence.
For almost a minute, Jisung didn’t say anything. He just looked at Chan with wide eyes, surprise and something else written across his face. His mouth was slightly open, as if trying to find the right words.
Chan began to panic, not appreciating the silence. He quickly tried to backtrack, turning his gaze away and awkwardly scratching the back of his ear.
"I—I'm sorry... I just couldn’t help myself. You can act like this never happened—"
"Why would I do that?" Jisung cut him off.
Chan shook his head, embarrassed. "Just forget it."
"Chan."
"Hm?"
"Look at me when I'm talking, baby."
Chan lifted his head once again, only to find himself being pulled into a kiss. Jisung’s lips pressed against his, soft and warm, catching him completely off guard.
Jisung kissed him deeply, pulling him closer until their chests touched. His hand cradled the back of Chan’s head while the other cupped his cheek, guiding the kiss with all the care in the world.
It was a kiss full of love—Chan could feel it. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just pure affection, shared through the gentle press of their lips.
And Chan melted into it.
When Jisung finally pulled back, he stole one last quick peck before resting his forehead against Chan’s. The room was quiet, save for the sound of their breaths mingling.
“I love you more, baby,” Jisung whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you thought I would. I have been from the first time I saw you.”
Chan's breath hitched at Jisung’s words. He let them wash over him, sinking deep into his heart. It felt surreal—too good to be true. But the warmth of Jisung’s embrace and the sincerity in his voice grounded him in the moment.
“From the first time you saw me?” Chan repeated softly, eyes wide with disbelief.
Jisung chuckled, nodding slightly. “Yeah. You were this awkward, flustered mess, trying to keep your cool when you were obviously in over your head.” His smile softened, and he brushed a stray strand of hair away from Chan’s face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
Chan’s face flushed with embarrassment at the memory. “I was so nervous,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how to act around you.”
Jisung hummed in understanding, his thumb gently tracing circles on Chan’s cheek. “I noticed. But that’s what made me fall for you. You were real, Chan. Genuine. Even with everything going on, you didn’t try to be someone you weren’t.”
Chan looked down, shyly smiling at Jisung’s words. “I never thought you’d feel the same way…”
“Neither did I, honestly,” Jisung admitted with a small laugh. “But here we are.”
They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air. Everything felt different now—lighter, more hopeful. The invisible barrier that had once stood between them had shattered, leaving nothing but raw emotion in its place.
Chan let out a small sigh of relief. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he whispered, “but I want this. I want us.”
Jisung’s arms tightened around him, pulling him closer. “Then we’ll make it work,” he promised. “No more pretending, no more contracts. Just us, for real.”
Chan felt the corners of his lips curl into a genuine smile—a smile that felt like the beginning of something new. He rested his head on Jisung’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the moment envelop him.
It wasn’t going to be easy. They had a lot to figure out—especially with the contract still hanging over their heads. But for the first time, Chan felt like they could face it together. Like they could turn their fake marriage into something real, something lasting.
And as Jisung pressed a soft kiss to his temple, Chan knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would be worth it. Because now, they had each other.
Days turned into weeks, and with each passing day, Chan and Jisung’s relationship deepened. They were no longer bound by a contract but by their genuine affection and commitment to each other. They faced the world together, navigating their new reality with a sense of shared purpose and joy.
Jisung’s daily routines began to blend seamlessly with Chan’s life. Mornings started with a shared breakfast, laughter echoing through their kitchen as they prepared meals together. Their evenings were filled with quiet moments, whether it was watching movies on the couch or simply talking about their day.
One evening, as they sat on the balcony, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Chan turned to Jisung with a thoughtful expression.
“Do you ever think about the future?” Chan asked softly, tracing patterns on the railing with his fingers.
Jisung looked at him, a warm smile playing on his lips. “All the time,” he replied. “I see us growing old together, still laughing and loving each other just like we do now.”
Chan’s heart fluttered at the thought. “I never thought I’d find this kind of happiness,” he admitted. “But now that I have, I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Jisung took Chan’s hand in his, his gaze steady and full of promise. “You don’t have to imagine it. Because it’s real. And it’s ours.”
As the stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, Chan leaned in, resting his head against Jisung’s shoulder. “I’m glad we took this leap,” he said quietly. “Even with all the complications and uncertainties, it’s been worth it.”
Jisung kissed the top of Chan’s head, holding him close. “Me too. We’ve built something beautiful together, and I’m excited to see where it leads us.”
Their journey wasn’t without its challenges. There were moments of doubt and fears to overcome, but they faced them together, their bond growing stronger with each trial. They learned to communicate, to support each other, and to cherish the small, everyday moments that made their life together special.
With time, the pain of the past faded, replaced by the hope and happiness of their present and future. The contract that had once defined their relationship became a distant memory, overshadowed by the love they had built.
As they walked hand in hand through life’s twists and turns, Chan and Jisung knew that they had found something rare and precious—a love that transcended contracts and expectations. It was a love built on trust, respect, and a deep, unshakeable connection.
And so, with hearts full of hope and hands tightly clasped, they embraced the future together, ready to face whatever came their way.