Work Text:
1st Almost
Their black car screeched to a halt at the edge of a narrow alley, the engine still rattling from the previous burst of speed. The air was thick with the smell of hot metal and exhaust. Lee Do jumped out, his heavy breaths mixing with the sound of rapid footsteps echoing over the damp asphalt. The chase had been fast—too fast—and the blare of sirens now rang faintly in Lee Do’s ears.
Moon Baek followed moments later, still in his oversized hoodie as usual. He stood calmly, waiting, his face unreadable.
"There’s noise coming from the right," Lee Do said, glancing briefly toward the source.
"That means he’s still within a 50-meter radius," Moon Baek replied, casually slipping his hands into his pockets. "You really didn’t bring a gun?"
"I’m not going to use a gun."
"You’re seriously the most stubborn person I’ve ever met." Moon Baek sighed. "Even in situations like this, you still go around unarmed."
Lee Do didn’t respond. He was already moving quickly toward the right-hand alley, his footsteps loud against the brick walls and tin roofs rattling from the wind. Moon Baek followed behind, his posture alert, ready for anything that might threaten Lee Do—or both of them.
"Stop!" Lee Do shouted, but the suspect just ran faster, knocking over trash bins and stacked wooden crates to block the path behind him.
Moon Baek should have been cutting off the left side of the alley, but right now Lee Do couldn’t think clearly about positions. All that mattered was stopping the man before the gun was used.
He lunged, tackling the man with full force, both bodies crashing hard onto the rough asphalt. The sound of bone hitting concrete rang out, their breathing harsh and uneven. A punch landed on Lee Do’s jaw—one, two, three—but he fought back, his trained reflexes hitting ribs, twisting the attacker’s arm, until finally he managed to kick the gun out of reach.
"Where did you get the gun?!" he shouted.
Mr. Hong retaliated with a sharp elbow to Lee Do’s side, causing him to stumble, his head slamming against the sharp corner of a metal container.
Everything blurred for a moment. But Lee Do didn’t stop. He forced himself to move, pinning the attacker’s arms behind his back and locking on handcuffs quickly.
The rest happened fast—backup arrived, the suspect was taken into custody, the weapon secured.
Lee Do stood, a little unsteady, blood trickling from his temple, his breath ragged.
He found Moon Baek already back by the black car, having slipped away from the crowd of officers. He leaned casually against the side, his hands fiddling inside the hoodie’s pockets.
As soon as Lee Do got in and shut the door, Moon Baek raised an eyebrow—then his expression shifted sharply at the sight of blood on Lee Do’s face. His hand reached out, fingers pinching Lee Do’s chin with urgency.
"God—you’re bleeding."
"It’s just a scratch. Nothing serious."
Moon Baek leaned in, flipping on the overhead mirror light to get a better look.
"In situations like this, and you still refuse to carry a gun?" he snapped.
"I don’t need a gun," Lee Do replied, voice hoarse from the lingering adrenaline. "I can handle them."
Moon Baek sighed again, pulling back and settling behind the wheel. "We’re going to the hospital."
"No." Lee Do’s voice was sharp. "Straight to the station. I need to interrogate Mr. Hong now."
Moon Baek knew better than to argue. He hadn’t known Lee Do long, but it hadn’t taken much time to learn how infuriatingly stubborn the man could be.
So instead, he reached for the first-aid kit in the dashboard, tearing open an antiseptic packet and searching for sterile gauze.
"At least clean the wound and cover it. Once your business is done, we’re going to the clinic."
"I told you, it’s not—"
Moon Baek looked at him. Not sharply, not angrily. Just looked. And somehow, that was worse. Lee Do went still under that gaze.
Lee Do gulped, "Fine. After everything’s done," he muttered.
Moon Baek said nothing for a few seconds, "Good." He said, then leaned in and began to clean the wound without another word. His movements were gentle, almost like he was tending to something fragile—and in his eyes, that’s what Lee Do was; something fragile he wanted to protect with his own hands. The kind who never paused to check if he was bleeding until he couldn’t stand anymore.
Lee Do didn’t move. His breathing slowly steadied, though he could still feel Moon Baek’s fingers tremble slightly at first, before becoming steady and sure. Moon Baek brushed aside the damp strands of hair that had fallen over Lee Do’s forehead, sticky with sweat and blood, then applied antiseptic and a strip of medical tape with practiced care.
But they were too close.
Lee Do could smell the faint trace of cigarrettes on Moon Baek’s jacket, and something else—something warmer, familiar.
Moon Baek didn’t pull away. His eyes locked onto Lee Do’s, then drifted lower to his lips.
The sounds of the street outside seemed to vanish. The world contracted to the small, warm space of the car. And the distance between them grew smaller and smaller, until—
Lee Do pulled back like a struck match. He sat up straight, turned his head, and buckled his seatbelt without a word.
— almost.
Only almost.
Moon Baek stared at him for a long moment, as if on the verge of saying something.
But Lee Do spoke first.
"Drive."
His voice was calm, but there were layers buried in it. Restraint. Frustration. Wanting.
Moon Baek inhaled through his nose, gave a short nod, then turned the key in the ignition.
The engine rumbled back to life. They drove off in silence.
But the tension did not leave with them.
2nd Almost
The rain had just stopped when the last gunshot echoed through the narrow alley of the old industrial district. The smell of hot metal and wet asphalt hung in the air, rising from every crack in the walls. Sirens still sounded in the distance, but the fast-approaching footsteps of the police could shatter any scenario they had tried to build.
Lee Do took a sharp breath, his hands still trembling after disarming one of the targets and bringing him down with a technique that looked almost brutal. Fresh blood still clung to the corner of his mouth. The right shoulder of his shirt was torn—not by bullets, but from scraping against the edge of a container when he leapt from above and crashed down with the target.
Moon Baek yanked him back behind a slightly ajar steel door and shoved him into a dark, damp service room, dodging the hail of bullets now firing without direction. As fast and instinctive as Lee Do was, fighting weaponless and exhausted could only lead to a worsening situation.
Visibility was limited, with only a dim emergency light in the corner casting their silhouettes on the dingy walls. Outside, footsteps grew closer, accompanied by chaotic shouts and randomly fired bullets. Anyone could be hit, even if they weren’t the primary target. The gunmen were too reckless, without strategy or morality.
Lee Do stood with his back pressed against the wall, and Moon Baek stood in front of him, as if blocking all access to him—because to reach him, one would have to pass through that large body first. The room was too small for comfort, but there was no ideal space to hide anyway. Their breath came hard and uneven, growing heavier with each inch the distance between them closed.
Too close for combat. Too tight for logic.
In this space meant to be a shelter, something else began to grow; something warm and unfamiliar, unsettling in its own right. Their breath, their heat, filled the air between them.
Moon Baek reached up and gently wiped the blood from Lee Do’s temple. His movements were slow and tender, though his hands were rough and broad.
Lee Do shut his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by too many sensations colliding all at once. The ringing of gunshots, the metallic taste in his mouth, the heat radiating off Moon Baek’s body, too close for safety.
He didn’t step back. But he didn’t move forward either.
Their eyes met in the dark, wide, silent, unreadable. The outside world slipped into a distant hum. Only the soft drip of leftover rain from the gutter, and the unsynchronized rhythm of their heartbeats remained.
The distance between them seemed to shrink as the world around them faded away, leaving only a narrow space filled with something nameless. And in that space, time felt fragile. Just one more inch, and they could step deeper, closing the distance, erasing the distance. And send them over the edge.
Lee Do tilted his face up just slightly, unconsciously. His eyes never left Moon Baek’s. There was a tight pulse at his throat, like he was about to speak, but no words came.
The space between them felt like it was collapsing—shrinking down to something nameless, fragile. In that suspended moment, time thinned. One more inch, and something would happen.
One more inch.
"Unit 2, visual confirmed. Suspect headed north. There’s blood—"
The radio voice from outside cut through the silence like a small siren from the real world. Lee Do turned immediately. He moved faster than Moon Baek had expected, pushing him back and slipping out of the space with his slender body, leaving without looking back.
Moon Baek didn’t move. He remained standing in place, as if his world had simply vanished.
By the time he finally exited the room, Lee Do’s footsteps had already faded, running swiftly.
By the time the night ended and they returned to the car, sitting much farther apart than they had nearly erased, everything had returned to neutral.
They acted as if nothing had happened.
But both of them knew;
Just one more inch—and their world might have changed forever.
3rd Almost
The underground parking lot echoed with the fading sound of sirens. The lingering smell of gunpowder still hung in the air. The neon lights on the ceiling flickered—their flickering resembled Lee Do's heart, which couldn't calm down.
Moon Baek’s footsteps could be heard from afar. Slow, calm, as usual. As if he hadn’t just nearly lost his life because of a leaked mission.
Lee Do stood near the emergency staircase, his hands clenched. His clothes were dirty, dust mixed with thin bloodstains on his shoulders—not severe wounds, but enough to serve as a reminder. His breath was rapid. His chest rose and fell. His eyes blazed like they were filled with fire.
Lee Do turned around. "You can’t keep playing the hero! This isn’t your job, Moon Baek!" He raised his hand, pointing at the floor, the walls, all the chaos. "This isn’t your world. You’re not a cop! You’re a civilian. And earlier, you almost—" His breath caught. "you almost got shot."
Moon Baek didn’t respond immediately. He stared at Lee Do—those usually calm eyes now slightly droopy, perhaps tired, perhaps disappointed. Then, without a sound, he began to steps closer.
One step.
Two steps.
Three.
Until Lee Do was forced to back up, his back touching the cold concrete wall.
Moon Baek stopped right in front of him. Their breaths mingled in the air.
"I never said I was a hero," Moon Baek narrowed his eyes, slowly closing the distance until they were only a few inches apart. "But you’re the one bleeding now."
"And that’s better than you getting hit," Lee Do replied quickly, almost without thinking. Then he clenched his jaw, holding back the surge of emotion that arose faster than his consciousness.
Moon Baek raised his hand, almost touching his face. But he stopped in midair.
"Not everyone wants you to protect them, Lee Do," he said softly. "Maybe some just want to be by your side."
Lee Do looked back at him, without a shield. His emotions were raw; anger, fear, exhaustion, and everything else trapped. Trapped in the narrow space between their bodies, in the tension that had been bottled up for too long.
Moon Baek was also silent. But his eyes lowered slightly, gazing at the two soft lips parted in a breath. Then back to his eyes. His movement was so quick and subtle, almost imperceptible.
And Lee Do didn’t step back.
Those moments were intense. Their breaths mingled. It was unclear who leaned forward first, or perhaps both of them did. External sounds faded away. Their world was confined to that space.
But suddenly, Lee Do pulled away. Quickly. Almost roughly.
He took a step back, then another. His voice cracked as he spoke.
Moon Baek almost kissed him.
Again.
Who knows how many times they’d almost done it.
But Lee Do, his body tense, pushed him away. "Don’t," he said, his voice cracking. "Don’t make this more complicated than it already is."
He walked away without looking back.
Moon Baek stood there silently, a faint smile forming at the corner of his lips. Not a victorious smile. Not a disappointed one either. More like the smile of someone who knew something was about to break—it was only a matter of time.
4th Almost
Moon Baek and Lee Do were on the rooftop of the building after work. The cool night air sent chills down their spines, and the city lights below illuminated the scene.
Moon Baek had brought some refreshments with him, intending to enjoy the view together. He took a sip of his drink and glanced over at Lee Do, a relaxed expression on his face.
"It's a pretty nice night, right?"
Lee Do nodded in agreement, taking a moment to savor the view. He couldn't help but find this little rooftop meetups with Moon Baek oddly charming.
"Yeah," he replied simply, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the city's ever-present background noise.
He took a sip of his own drink, trying to appear unbothered, but the subtle way he leaned slightly closer to Moon Baek betrayed his relaxed facade.
Moon Baek noticed this subtle movement, his observant eyes catching the small gesture without fail. He hid a smirk behind his drink, finding Lee Do's half-hearted attempts at nonchalance endearing.
He casually leaned back, his shoulder gently nudging against Lee Do's.
"You're oddly clingy tonight, aren't you?" he teased, his voice laced with a mixture of jest and affection.
Moon Baek chuckled quietly, enjoying the way Lee Do seemed to unconsciously gravitate towards him. He took another sip of his drink, contemplating what they could talk about.
"You know, you're quite different when you're buzzed," he remarked, his voice carrying an air of playful curiosity. "Usually, you're all serious and focused. But right now, you're like a clingy koala."
Lee Do huffed in a halfhearted protest, trying to maintain some remnants of his usual composure.
"I'm not clingy," he retorted, even as he continued to lean subtly against Moon Baek's shoulder. His vision was slightly blurry, and his inhibitions were starting to slip.
"Just... shut up and enjoy the view," he muttered, taking another sip of his drink to hide the slight flush on his cheeks.
Moon Baek chuckled again, thoroughly entertained by Lee Do's attempts to maintain his composure. He couldn't resist pushing a little further, though.
"Oh, come on now, you practically have your head on my shoulder. That's pretty clingy in my book."
He teasingly bumped his shoulder against Lee Do's, his playful gaze never leaving his face. "You know, I kinda like this side of you, all unguarded and tipsy."
Lee Do sighed, knowing deep down that Moon Baek had a point. He could feel the alcohol making him more vulnerable, breaking down his usual walls. He hated how easily Moon Baek could get under his skin.
"Shut it. It's just the alcohol," he muttered, taking another sip to hide his growing embarrassment.
But he didn't move away. Instead, he found himself leaning even more into Moon Baek's shoulder, seeking the warmth and comfort that came with their casual closeness.
Moon Baek's smirk widened at the sight of Lee Do leaning even closer. He shifted, positioning his arm around Lee Do's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer.
"Just the alcohol, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "Or maybe it's just the fact that you're secretly enjoying my company, even when you're sober."
Lee Do let out a quiet scoff, trying to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, but the alcohol and Moon Baek's proximity were making it increasingly difficult. He was hyper-aware of the arm around his shoulders, the subtle warmth radiating through him.
"Enjoying your company? Please. You're an annoyance more than anything," he replied, but the protest lacked its usual conviction.
Moon Baek chuckled lowly, amused by Lee Do's stubborn denial. He could see right through the words, the truth hidden beneath them.
As the conversation continued, the gap between them gradually shrank. Moon Baek casually shifted closer, his arm still around Lee Do's shoulders. He leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart.
"You know, for someone who claims to find me annoying, you have a weird way of showing it," he murmured, his gaze lingering on Lee Do's lips.
Lee Do swallowed hard, his breath hitching slightly as he felt Moon Baek's closeness. His heart was racing, and he could feel the heat radiating from the other man's body. He tried to keep his voice steady, but the alcohol made it difficult to mask his growing attraction.
"Shut up," he muttered, his eyes darting towards Moon Baek's lips for a brief moment before snapping back up to maintain eye contact. "You're too damn close."
Moon Baek's smirk widened, sensing the subtle crack in Lee Do's composure. He relished the sight of him struggling to maintain his stoicism.
"Too close? Or just right?" he taunted, his voice a low purr. He moved even closer, their thighs brushing against each other, the proximity electrifying.
"You're not pushing me away," he observed, his hand gently tracing a path along Lee Do's shoulder. "If you truly wanted me to back off, you would've done it already."
Lee Do's resolve was rapidly crumbling under Moon Baek's onslaught. His body was betraying him, unconsciously leaning into the touch despite his protests. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing became noticeably heavier.
"We—we shouldn't," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He made a half-hearted attempt to push Moon Baek away, but his touch lacked conviction.
He fought the urge to close the remaining distance between them, his resolve wavering. God, he wanted to kiss him so badly.
Lee Do's breath hitched as Moon Baek spoke. He couldn't deny the truth in the man's words. He could have easily distanced himself if he truly wanted to. But deep down, he didn't want to.
His gaze flickered between Moon Baek's eyes and his lips, torn between maintaining his usual aloofness and giving into the undeniable attraction.
"You're insufferable, " he muttered, the words lacking any real bite. He found himself shifting subtly closer, their faces mere millimeters apart.
Despite the tantalizing proximity, Moon Baek caught the hint of hesitation in Lee Do's words and body language. While he would have loved to press forward and kiss the man senseless, he knew the importance of respecting the other's boundaries.
He withdrew his hands slowly, the smirk on his face softening into an understanding smile.
"Alright, alright. I won't push if that's not what you want tonight," he said, taking a subtle step back to give Lee Do a bit of breathing room.
That realization hit Lee Do with a pang of clarity. It was true. The almost kiss didn't create the same awkward tension as before. Instead, it only seemed to strengthen the connection between them.
He took a moment to steady his breathing, his mind still spinning slightly from the intensity of the moment. He looked at Moon Baek, his initial defensiveness replaced by a hint of vulnerability.
"Why..." he started, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you so damn impossible to resist?"
Moon Baek chuckled softly, noticing the subtle change in Lee Do's demeanour. The usually aloof officer was starting to show a glimpse of vulnerability, and it was incredibly endearing.
He took another small step back, giving Lee Do some space to regain his composure. He leaned against the rail, his gaze never leaving Lee Do's face.
"I could ask you the same question," he replied with a hint of amused exasperation. "You're the one who keeps getting all flustered and clingy whenever we're close."
Lee Do's cheeks flared with a hint of embarrassment at Moon Baek's words. He knew it was true, even if he'd rather deny it. He let out a low huff, his gaze averted as he muttered.
"I'm not clingy," he protested, though the words came out sounding more like a half-hearted grumble.
He leaned deeper to Moon Baek, hands playing the empty can to make his hand not do anything worse.
5th Almost
That evening, the rain had just stopped. The air inside Moon Baek's apartment was still damp, and the evening light filtered in thinly through the curtains. On the low table, clean bandages, sterile gauze, ointment—everything was already prepared.
Lee Do's scars from last mission hadn't fully healed yet. They were still a reddish-purple color, the skin around them warm and occasionally throbbing. They were located directly below his left ribcage, deep enough to make breathing painful for several days, but that wasn't what was making it hard for Lee Do to breathe that afternoon.
Moon Baek had once again insisted he come to the apartment with a casual tone on the phone, his words were gentle and soft, yet the message he conveyed seemed impossible to refuse. Lee Do could only say yes, and he knew it.
"Your bandage must be dirty. Let me change it. You know you can’t do it yourself."
And now he was here. Sitting at the edge of the bed. His shirt had been helped off his body, but Moon Baek hadn’t touched anything yet. He was just standing there silently in front of Lee Do, staring at his body in a way that made Lee Do’s heart race even more.
"Wounds like this," Moon Baek said softly as he knelt slowly in front of Lee Do, "can leave scars on the skin, so they need to be properly cared for."
Lee Do didn’t respond. He could have pulled away. But he didn’t. Because this was Moon Baek. And he knew that when Moon Baek set boundaries, it was usually because he had an agenda.
Moon Baek slowly unwrapped the bandage, almost as if he were doing it deliberately too slowly. His fingers touched Lee Do’s skin, even in areas that didn’t need to be touched.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked.
"A little."
Moon Baek didn’t respond. But his expression suggested something close to sympathy, or perhaps more like an obsession polished with gentleness.
"If it had been me yesterday," he said. "Would you have panicked?"
"I’m a professional," Lee Do replied quickly. Too quickly.
Moon Baek smirked slightly. He knew.
Then he leaned forward. Touching the wound, not with medicine, but with his lips.
One kiss.
Then another. On a different part of the wound. Then his touch moved upward, even to places where there were no wounds left.
Lee Do didn’t move. His eyes widened slightly, but his neck remained tense, his body locked in the urge to surrender.
"Your breathing is heavy," Moon Baek whispered. "Why? Does it hurt?" His hand rose, touching the side of Lee Do’s neck.
Ah, the idiot.
How could he ask so casually after touching his skin with that sensual, plump indecent mouth?
But Lee Do remained silent, holding himself like a statue. His breath caught in his throat, as if his life could vanish at any moment. But it would be ridiculous if he died because of the existence of a lip’s touch on his skin.
"Scared?" Moon Baek brought his lips close to Lee Do’s ear and whispered very softly, "Or do you like it?"
Lee Do’s body reacted; Moon Baek’s fingers now played along his ribs, between the bruises and wounds, creating an uncertain sensation between restrained pain and something wilder.
Moon Baek stared at Lee Do’s face. His eyes were vacant, as if he had stopped thinking. The typical gaze of someone overwhelmed by stimuli, their brain lagging.
"If you didn’t like it, you would’ve pushed me away by now," Moon Baek said softly. Then he added even more softly, "But you didn’t move at all."
Lee Do finally spoke, his voice hoarse, "Moon Baek, this isn’t—"
"It’s okay," Moon Baek interrupted. And he kissed the corner of Lee Do’s lips. Not entirely a kiss, but not just a tease either. It was ambiguous. Addictive.
When Moon Baek finally pulled back, Lee Do was still silent. His hand clenched the blanket beneath him, knuckles tight.
Moon Baek gave his signature smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously as usual, he took the medicine pouch, "This is the new bandage!" he chirped. He peeled the plaster open, "I’ll apply it. Hold still for a moment." As if it were all part of a medical procedure.
He opened the sterile gauze and worked as usual. But the atmosphere had changed. The air felt heavier. Lee Do’s body was already bandaged, but the effect of Moon Baek’s touch lingered long after it had ended.
Lee Do stood up slowly, take his shirt and wear it back to his body, he looked at Moon Baek for a moment after. Unbelievable.
Moon Baek turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"
"You’re too calm for someone who just almost did something insane," Lee Do muttered.
Moon Baek just smiled. "That wasn’t close. If I’d been serious, you wouldn’t be able to walk home tonight."
And Lee Do knew this big dog wasn’t joking.
+1 Time – and the finally.
After the chase, Lee Do fell asleep on the road. Then Moon Baek, out of pity, decided to go to his apartment instead of Lee Do's, because it was closer to their last location. He let him sleep in the car while Moon Baek made a phone call outside the car, leaning on the hood. When he finished his call, he saw Lee Do open his eyes. Then he opened Lee Do's door, offering to carry him upstairs.
"No, I can manage myself. I have my own feet."
Lee Do's stubbornness was a familiar sight, and Moon Baek met it with a smirk.
"Still stubborn as ever, aren't you, officer?" he remarked, crossing his arms. "You're so tired and sleepy, and it'll be much faster if I just lift you up. But fine, suit yourself. Let's see how well you can stumble upstairs in your exhausted state."
Lee Do's jaw clenched at Moon Baek's words. He wanted to protest, to insist on handling it himself, but the exhaustion tugged at his every muscle.
He pushed himself out of the car, swaying slightly on his feet, determined to prove he wasn't helpless.
As the elevator ascended, Lee Do's eyelids drooped, the fight against fatigue a losing battle. He leaned subtly against the lift wall, his head tilting slightly to one side.
Moon Baek noticed the drooping eyelids and chuckled softly. "Looks like the tough officer is finally succumbing to the Sandman," he teased, reaching out to lightly nudge Lee Do. "Don't pass out on me just yet."
Seeing how Lee Do's exhaustion had won the better of him, Moon Baek made the decision. He gently scooped Lee Do into his arms, being careful to support his weight.
"You're too stubborn for your own good," Moon Baek chided playfully, a hint of gentleness in his voice.
Lee Do, despite his usual reticence, found himself melting into the comfort of being carried. The fatigue was too powerful to resist, and he leaned his head on Moon Baek's chest, closing his eyes.
"Shut up," he mumbled, his words tinged with a reluctant admission of defeat.
Moon Baek chuckled softly at Lee Do's half-hearted protest. He carried him with ease, feeling the weight of Lee Do's trust in his arms.
"So the grumpy little one can relax when he wants to," he teased gently. "This is the first time I've seen you surrender without fighting to the very end."
And Lee Do know it is true.
Moon Baek carefully placed Lee Do on the bed, making sure he was comfortable. Lee Do's body seemed to sink into the mattress, his exhaustion evident in the way he melted into the sheets.
"There we go," Moon Baek murmured, gently pulling a blanket over Lee Do. Moon Baek removed Lee Do's jacket and carefully placed it on a nearby chair, folding it neatly. He then gently took off his socks, setting them aside before turning his attention back to Lee Do.
He glanced at the jeans that Lee Do was still wearing, knowing that sleeping in jeans was far from comfortable.
"You might want to change out of those," he murmured, gesturing towards the jeans. "They're not exactly sleep-friendly."
Lee Do's heavy eyelids opened slightly, and he looked down at his jeans, realizing the truth in Moon Baek's words.
"Fine," he conceded, his exhaustion making him more compliant than usual. He attempted to sit up, but his weary body protested, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
Moon Baek noticed Lee Do's struggle, his protective instincts kicking in. He reached out, gently supporting Lee Do's weary form and helping him sit up.
"Easy there, officer. Let me help you," he murmured, his voice soothing. He began to unbutton the jeans, carefully maneuvering them off of Lee Do's legs.
His hands moved with uncharacteristic tenderness as he unfastened the jeans and eased them off Lee Do’s legs. Lee Do didn’t protest—he didn’t even tense. He just watched, his gaze unfocused but steady, like he was reading something behind Moon Baek’s expression.
Moon Baek grabbed a pair of soft lounge pants from his drawer, handing them over. But instead of reaching for them, Lee Do let his head fall back against the pillow and sighed, one arm thrown loosely across his forehead.
Moon Baek chuckled, tossing the pants aside. He let him just sleep in his briefs then.
"You’re hopeless tonight."
Lee Do’s mouth quirked. "You talk too much."
For a few quiet seconds, they just stayed there. The soft hum of the city outside filtered in through the barely-cracked window. Lee Do’s breathing had evened out a little, but his eyes were still open—calm, watching.
Then, as Moon Baek leaned over to switch off the lamp on the bedside table—his arm crossing over Lee Do’s chest—Lee Do caught his wrist.
Moon Baek froze, halfway through the motion, his face close.
Lee Do didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Moon Baek looked down at him, and there was something naked in Lee Do’s eyes—vulnerability, exhaustion, a quiet kind of surrender. And then, very deliberately, Lee Do shifted slightly on the pillow, just enough for his nose to brush Moon Baek’s cheek.
It was a question. And Moon Baek answered.
He leaned in.
The moment their lips touched, a jolt of electricity shot through Moon Baek's body. He melted into the kiss, his pent-up desire and affection pouring into the connection. Lee Do's lips were warm and soft, a perfect fit against his own.
The kiss remained slow and gentle, their mouths moving in a tender dance, discovering each other’s taste for the first time. Moon Baek's hand gently cradled the back of Lee Do's head, his fingers threading through the soft locks of hair.
Lee Do’s hand slid from Moon Baek’s wrist to the back of his neck, pulling him just a little closer. Moon Baek sank into the kiss, careful not to press too hard, not to push too far. His hand braced against the mattress beside Lee Do’s shoulder, anchoring him there. Their lips moved slowly, languidly, like they had all night and no place to be.
The world faded away as Moon Baek lost himself in the kiss, the softness of Lee Do's lips and the quiet sounds of their mingling breaths filling the air. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently tracing the edge of Lee Do's mouth, seeking entry.
Lee Do's response was subtle but unmistakable. He allowed Moon Baek's tongue to slip into his mouth, a soft sigh escaping as their tongues glided together in a tender exploration.
Their bodies instinctively moved closer, seeking more contact. Moon Baek's other hand found its way to Lee Do's hip, pulling him closer, their bodies pressed intimately against each other. The fabric of their clothes was a thin barrier between them as the kiss deepened, their breaths growing heavier and more urgent.
When they finally parted, Moon Baek hovered close, forehead almost touching Lee Do’s.
The position they found themselves in was impossibly comfortable and tender. Lee Do's head pillowed against Moon Baek's upper arm, the officer's weary form completely relaxed and vulnerable.
Moon Baek couldn't help but notice the distinct scent of Lee Do's hair, a subtle mix of shampoo and a hint of musk that he found oddly soothing. He buried his nose into the top of Lee Do's head, inhaling deeply, his heart swelling with affection.
The silence of the room wrapped around them like a warm blanket, broken only by the occasional sound of their breathing. Moon Baek's fingers traced small circles on Lee Do's back, his touch gentle and comforting. He felt the rise and fall of the officer's chest against his own, their hearts beating synchronized in a peaceful rhythm.
The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, yet in the best way possible. It was not simply two bodies sharing a bed, but two souls finding solace in each other's presence.
No words, just uneven breaths and a closeness that hadn’t fully retreated. But they both knew, its a finally .
Not an almost anymore.
No reasons, no retreat. Every line they'd drawn dissolved without a sound. What remained was each other; undeniably, unapologetically there.
No need for explanations. It happened. And neither of them wanted to take it back.
As they laid there, cocooned in the comfort of each other's arms, Moon Baek found himself marveling at how effortlessly they melded together. It was as though they had been designed to fit perfectly against each other. The way Lee Do's head nestled in the crook of his arm, the weight of their limbs tangled together — everything felt impossibly right.
Moon Baek's thoughts wandered as he caressed the silky strands of Lee Do's hair, a small smile playing on his lips. He had never felt this level of connection and protection with anyone before.
Moon Baek smiled, and kissed him again—this time on the corner of his mouth.
"Sleep."
Then he reached for the blanket again, tucking it up to Lee Do’s chest, fingers lingering a second too long before he got up and dimmed the lights. He slipped under the covers on the other side, letting the silence settle around them like a second blanket.
The fatigue of the day finally caught up with Moon Baek, and slowly, his eyes dropped shut. His grip on Lee Do subconsciously tightened, holding the smaller one close even in slumber. The steady rise and fall of their chests, their breaths in sync, created a lullaby that whispered of safety and belonging.
Lee Do didn’t say anything else. But he shifted deeper into Moon Baek’s arms.
And that was enough.
As Moon Baek drifted into sleep, a sense of profound peace washed over him, knowing that Lee Do was safely tucked against him, their limbs a tangled mess of comfort and contentment.