Chapter Text
The candles on the bedside table are lit and burning for "atmosphere." They don't illuminate the room sufficiently, but instead, a string of lights with a yellowish glow does the job. It illuminates the bed and the wall to which it is attached. It illuminates half of the photos near the wall.
Here is a photo of Jin-woo and his family sitting down to a family dinner. Jin-woo was nervous, but he looked at his family with reverence. He's not going to run away from this dinner, right?
Here is a photo of Jin-woo and Jin-chul preparing dinner, but instead of dinner, all the food ended up on them and they were covered in flour up to their elbows.
Here is another photo, this time of the entire department when they found out "for the first time" that these two idiots were dating. Of course, they weren't surprised, they just discussed their bets afterwards... Miss Lee won a hundred thousand from them.
And here's another one...
Another photo is lying on the table near this wall, showing Jin-woo and Jin-chul intertwined. The boss still has his concealer on to hide his dark circles from lack of sleep. He didn't actually have time to wash it off before they fell asleep.
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Bryak
Jin-Chul, who had just left and already returned from the bathroom, where he washed off his concealer, threw himself back into Jin-Woo's arms and slipped under the blanket next to him. Jin-Woo happily let him back in, and they became one again, intertwining their legs. Jin-Woo turned on his side, his arm under his boss's head bent slightly and began to stroke and ruffle his boss's hair.
— Hmm, Jin-Woo, — Jin-Chul grumbled.
Jin-Chol turned and fixed his hazel eyes on Jin-Woo's steely ones. There was a mischievous gleam in the steely eyes, and the eyebrow on the other side of the face rose at such fire.
Scratch Scratch Scratch
The light brown eyes opened wider, but immediately became content and relaxed, the eyebrow calmed down, assuming its usual, relaxed position. In the neighboring eyes, the sparks only dispersed, joined by a smirk visible behind the dim light of the garlands
The hand of the devilish grin had been gently and carefully scratching the back of the frowning man's head for some time.
Jin-Chul exhaled quietly and controlled, otherwise, he knew, he would accidentally react too loudly.
Jin-Woo smiled, his lips becoming even more devilish, and he stands up, continuing to scratch with his short legs, then turning over the head of the Korean National Association without any resistance from him, and taking off his own T-shirt, which looked too big and long on Jin-Chul. His other hand begins to gently massage the grumpy man's neck, who only exhales louder and quietly grumbles and moans
— Mmm, Jin-woo... — The boss's voice is muffled by the pillow, Jin-Woo smirks and lifts the boss's head, expressing his desire to hear everything his boss says. — Mhmm, you're such a piece of shit...
The room and any sounds in it are drowned out by Jin-woo's unrestrained laughter, which eventually subsides and turns into a quiet confession.
— Haha... But I love you, boss, — Jin-woo says and kisses the boss on the neck, one of the most sensitive places on his boss's body.
— Mhm, you...! I love you too, — the boss buries his face back in the pillow, relaxed from the massage. Later, he stretches out and sits up on the bed, pulling Jin-woo onto his lap. Jin-woo doesn't object, resting his head on his boss's lap and closing his eyes.
A shadowy hand emerges from the intertwining shadows of the furniture and opens the window.
Fresh air enters the room, and both hunters hear the sound of crickets from the street.
Steel eyes peer into brown ones, becoming a warm shade of steel.
— Hmm... Boss, what if... — Jin-Wu begins, but is interrupted.
— No, Jin-Woo. I remember that look. It doesn't bode well, — says Chief Woo, who used to be so mannered, but at home, not afraid of getting beaten up by stronger monster hunters or angering them, begins to interrupt when he sees fit.
The face on his knees puffs up, lips protruding. The strongest hunter now looks so much like a little child... The chief would feel guilty, but he knows it's just Jin-Woo's ploy.
— I didn't actually want to propose a plan for any kind of destruction. It was just once, enough already! I wanted to suggest playing Truth or Dare, — the face puffs up even more, the lower lip Jin-Woo already trembling from how much it has been puffed up. Jin-Chul can't help himself and leans over, kissing Jin-Woo's poor lower lip, — Mmm, if you're going to kiss, kiss normally... — He is interrupted again, only this time by a sharp kiss. — Mmm. — Jin-woo's hand strokes his boss's hair, his fingernails delicately scratching a couple of times.
— Oh, okay, let's play this game for children, — Jin-Chul smiles, leaning his back against a large number of assorted pillows.
Jin-Woo smirks, looking his boss straight in the eye with a challenge.
— I'll make you take those words back. It's my turn!
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Jin-Chul, still leaning back against the pillows, having already undressed completely, received teasing touches, and dressed again, smiles, but still considers playing P or D a game for children.
— It's your turn, I choose Action! — Jin-Woo says confidently.
Jin-Chul smiles, looking at the face on his lap and thoughtfully playing with strands of Jin-Woo's hair. He thinks for a moment and says:
— Close your eyes for a minute, — he smiles gently, watching Jin-Woo's face, sparkling with confidence.
Jin-Woo obediently closes his eyes, curiosity tickling his nerves.
— What are you up to, Boss? — "Silence" was the only answer.
Jin-Chul looked at him. At his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks, at his relaxed lips, at his trusting neck with its hickey from one of their previous encounters. He felt the weight of his head on his knees, the warmth of his body. The room was quiet, except for the crackling of candles and the chirping of crickets. He slowly reached out and lightly traced Jin-Woo's eyebrow line with his fingertips, then his temple, brushing away a stray strand of hair. His touch was light as a breath, exploring, almost weightless. He touched his earlobe, ran his finger along his jawline, and stopped at the pulsing point at the base of his throat. Jin-Woo sighed more deeply, but did not open his eyes. His lips parted slightly.
— Time? — he whispered, his voice hoarse.
— Another half minute, — Jin-Chul replied just as quietly. His fingers moved lower, sliding down her collarbone, tracing the fresh hickey—his "work of art" for today. The touch was gentle, commanding. Then he simply placed his palm on his chest, slightly to the left of the center, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart under his fingers. He just held it there. The silence thickened, filling with trust, warmth, and something inexpressibly deep.
— A minute has passed, — Jin-Chul finally said reluctantly, removing his hand.
Jin-Woo slowly opened his eyes. There was no blindness or confusion in them. Only deep, calm tenderness and understanding.
— That was... better than any Action, Jin-Chul, — he whispered. He raised his hand, caught Jin-Chul's hand that had just been resting on his heart, and pressed it to his lips. The kiss on his palm was long and quiet. — Thank you, — he murmured, leaving an imprint on the Chief's palm, one that would not fade with time, but would forever gently remind him and make him blush with memories.
— You're welcome, it's your turn. I choose the truth, — Jin-Chul smiled, satisfied.
Jin-Woo's smile turned into a predatory grin, and he decided that looking at this vulnerable, domestic Jin-Chul made him want something... warm. Something silly. Something that Chief Woo would never say out loud.
— What... what is the silliest, perhaps childish thing that truly comforts you? Besides me, — he quickly added, feeling a blush spread across his cheeks. — Something... like an old teddy bear or a certain smell?
Jin-Chul froze. His fingers, which had been unconsciously playing with the hem of his T-shirt, clenched the fabric. He looked away, staring into a dark corner. The silence dragged on. Jin-Woo was already beginning to regret asking the question when suddenly the Chief spoke, quietly and slightly hoarsely:
— Those... those cheap vanilla gingerbread cookies. Star-shaped. In bags, — He paused, as if confessing to a terrible crime. — The ones sold in vending machines at the subway. And... the smell of old paper. Like in the KNA archives on the lower level. Or like in my grandfather's old library, where we used to read... — He ran his finger rhythmically down Jin-Woo's back, avoiding his gaze. — It's silly... — he whispered.
Jin-Woo felt something warm and huge bursting in his chest. He propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at the guy's face.
— It's not silly, — he whispered, — it's... sweet. Like a little secret, — he gently touched the corner of Jin-Chul's mouth with his finger. — I'll remember. Stars and dusty archives with childhood memories...
Jin-Chul snorted, but the corners of his lips twitched in a hint of a smile.
— Your move. Truth or Dare, Monarch Hugger? — He grinned, hugging the Monarch around the shoulder.
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