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The shower of rain pitter-pattered on the previously-dry concrete. A pair of shoes disrupted the pooling puddles along the street where vendors had begun to hastily clean up.
Gi-hun gave them a quick, cheery nod as he ran towards the direction of home. Most of the vendors were too busy to even acknowledge him—he still smiled anyways.
He kept a jacket high above his head. It didn't really do much for Gi-hun. The raindrops slid down his shoulders like morning dew on blossoming petals, and he was completely soaked from head to toe.
When he arrived at his house’s doorstep, he listened for any sign of In-ho, who would surely make a fuss over his current, sullied state.
Gi-hun crept through the open crack of his front door, tiptoeing inside cautiously. He breathed out a heavy sigh of relief upon discovering one empty, quiet living room.
“You're home?”
Gi-hun jumped, steadying himself before he could foolishly slip on his own feet. Turning his head slowly, he let a nervous smile paint itself on his face.
“Hi, In-ho,” Gi-hun innocently greeted the jet black silhouette ominously inching towards him. He scanned the entirety of the pitch black room, flashes of light intruding their abode through the dewy glass panes.
The lightning illuminated In-ho’s face—his lips pressed into a thin line, yet his eyes glinted with warmth and promised safety. Coiled around his arm, a dry towel, as if he'd expected his husband to come back to him exactly as he did.
“Come here,” In-ho told Gi-hun in a low voice, unfurling the towel delicately. “You're drenched, honey.”
Gi-hun gives in, scampering towards In-ho with his chin tipped low.
“How did you know?” Gi-hun asked him, tilting his head as In-ho wrapped him around in a towel as if he were as fragile as a wee child. “You're way too prepared for this for my liking. Have you begun to see the future or some shit?”
“I know because it's you,” In-ho grinned as he set both palms on his husband's shoulders. “You're way too predictable, my love.”
He led Gi-hun towards his body, chests brushing like their hearts were magnetic. Water from Gi-hun's tousled hair dripped onto In-hun’s rolled-up sleeve.
They pulled each other into a warm kiss, Gi-hun curling an arm around In-hun's waist as the both of them silently yearned for more.
The towel fell away like curtains on Gi-hun's back. Their lips were rubbed raw and beautiful, leaving marks on each other's jaw, each other's mouth, each other's soul.
Sometime later, In-ho questioned, through a small whine that softly fell from his lips: “How about some hot chocolate later?”
A smirk played on the well-loved creases of Gi-hun's eyes. “Is that all you could offer to keep me warm?”