Archive of Our Own

Being in love is weird.

It's the only thing Maki thinks of lately. He's nineteen going on twenty, with one relationship and a half under his belt. He's barely old enough to talk about soulmates and forevers that are whispered under the covers, or maybe he's at the perfect age for it. When his boyfriend tells him that he loves him — big brown eyes pooling golden under the sun with his faintly auburn hair blending into the frame of his face — Maki thinks, this is easy. Because it is. Because it has never not been.

Yet, sometimes it's the hardest thing in the world. Like the time he first tried to say it back, three-worded phrase burning a hole through his larynx; even though it was so apparent that he loved Euijoo; Maki had choked and chose to hide instead. Euijoo is honest in ways Maki isn't. He's genuine — doesn't know how else to be — and he doesn't know how to say things in a lot of words. It's always let me hold you, and I've been thinking about you the whole day, and I listened to your voice note twenty-three times. He loves quietly; in unassuming, sometimes less-than-palpable ways.

It's why when he came home from his classes today, Maki almost cries by the sink when he's greeted by the sight of berries — an assortment of a multitude of colours, all different kinds — soaking in apple cider vinegar.

"Maki? Is that you, baby?"

Euijoo's working from home today.

It's why Maki ran to the bus stop with untied laces, no time to spare because Euijoo was at home, waiting for him.

His boyfriend likes to walk around with his opened laptop in his hands, and Maki's not too pleased about the fact that the device was still covering Euijoo's face as he walks into the kitchen. And it's a bit disappointing that Euijoo's not looking at him. He's in a muted Zoom call. He's mindlessly grabbing a water bottle from the fridge while Maki waits patiently for his boyfriend to notice him.

Then, a moment later, he sets his laptop down on the counter, blindly reaching towards Maki, eyes still trained on his screen. Maki leans forwards as if on autopilot, and lets Euijoo scratch his scalp while a middle-aged man drawls on about some quarterly expense nonsense through the speakers. Maki can't even pretend to care, a full-bodied shiver running through him as Euijoo threads his fingers through his hair gently, nails slightly scratching skin — just enough to tickle.

"Don't have the berries yet," he says as he's retracting his hand. Maki trails after it, lost in thought. "Let them soak for at least an hour."

Then, he's leaving, with his laptop and his still unopened bottle, and a part of Maki petulantly wonders if he's doing it on purpose. Hmph, he thinks, because how could Euijoo not tell that Maki missed him so much? It feels a bit like he's being tortured, and Maki has a lot more to grumble about but Euijoo has already left the room.

The distinct sound of his office chair being dragged against the vinyl floors, however, makes Maki break into a sprint.

When he peeks his head into Euijoo's home office, Maki sees him laughing — laughing as he says something to a coworker, or maybe his boss. Maki doesn't really know much about Euijoo's work. What he does know is that Euijoo's lap is empty; a perfect spot for his afternoon nap. Maki gets down and crawls forward, and he knows Euijoo's keeping an eye on him even just from his periphery, but he doesn't stop speaking even as Maki crawls into the space under his desk. It's oddly spacious. Maybe Euijoo bought it with Maki in mind.

And yet, Maki, in his eagerness, bumps his head loudly on the underside of the table.

Euijoo's rubbing over the spot immediately. "I'm so sorry everyone. It's just my puppy," he explains, cradling Maki's chin gently as he spares him a quick glance. "He's very clingy."

Then, he's back to normal, conversing freely as he lays Maki's head down on his propped-up thigh. It dampens Maki a bit, the way Euijoo had said clingy — like he couldn't help but bother him. Euijoo never calls him clingy, not even when Maki intertwines himself completely into his body at bedtime, like a touch-starved octopus. Sure, he can be a bit ditzy at times, with no care for personal space, too eager that he might bounce out of his own skin. But Maki knows his boundaries, and knows how to reel his excitement in if Euijoo's face is straight. Deep down, he knows Euijoo's teasing him; knows that if Euijoo didn't want him here, he would have sent him back out five minutes ago.

But being in love is weird.

Maki would crawl into Euijoo's skin if he could. He would cut his chest open and bury his face there; suffocate in his blood and die a peaceful death. And at the end of the day, he's just nineteen… the perfect age for self-doubt that pesters his every waking thought, and insecurities the size of boulders that shackle him to his pit of self-inflicted misery. Every once in a while, Euijoo sits there with him. And every once in a while, Maki climbs out of it and runs from it long and far enough that he sees the edge of the canopy and where everything ends. But sometimes it's Euijoo who puts him back in there — playful words that don't deliver the way they were supposed to, and flickering eyes that Maki could jot into a metronome when he's trying to deflect him away from some truth.

He falls asleep with the souring thought, and Euijoo's hand in his hair.

⟢

Maki wakes up feeling a bit lopsided.

Above him, Euijoo is eating dinner, and the shrill sound of Yoo Jaesuk's laughter is familiar, coming from his laptop albeit faintly. When he tries to speak, he garbles around fingers in his mouth. Euijoo looks down mid-chew, gently pulling his fingers out of Maki's mouth, shushing quietly when the boy whines in response. Briefly, he recalls Euijoo's promise this morning: playtime, after dinner, if you're good.

Euijoo's wiping his fingers on his own sweats as he says, "Hi, puppy."

Maki's entire back breaks into goosebumps.

"I fixed you a plate."

And by that he means, he fixed himself a plate with enough food for both of them. Maki's mouth falls open obediently, and Euijoo smiles as he feeds him — braised chicken with a small lump of rice. Maki blinks as he contemplates over how fast to chew. Euijoo doesn't like it when he's impatient with his food. For a while, it's quiet. Euijoo doesn't resume his show. He likes to be present, or whatever it was he told Maki; he carefully sections every bite, blowing on it because it's still steaming even on the spoon, staring intently at it even as Maki closes his mouth around it.

Maki wishes he could be on Euijoo's lap instead — entire body aching, and feet numb from his kneeling. But he's so big that he always ends up feeling awkward out of subspace, no matter how much he wants it. When his chewing gets slower, and his eyes more distant, Euijoo picks up on it quicker than Maki wishes he would.

"Puppy," he calls, and Maki blinks until his eyes focus back on Euijoo's face looming over him. "Come up here, please."

He's wobbling, especially because he's always far too impatient with himself, but Euijoo holds him firmly. It takes way longer than it should, because Maki's feet are essentially dead, and he keeps stepping over Euijoo feet instead. He's too big. He never fits right. But Euijoo doesn't seem to mind at all as he pulls Maki into his lap, nose nuzzling into the side of his face as Maki leans back on him entirely, too antsy to fight against the urge to melt on him.

Euijoo only resumes the show then, because sometimes Maki needs the distraction, even though his own eyes are mostly on Maki and his careful chewing. Dinners are always peaceful, even in the few instances where they were fighting before it. Euijoo makes it a point to eat together even when they're both upset at each other, and somehow it always ends up fixing things without them even trying. And right now, although not upset, Maki feels a bit murky. It's awful because he knows Euijoo can tell; because he's not animatedly asking for bites, merely taking what he's given, and Euijoo always picks up on his lack of enthusiasm.

By the time the bowl is scraped clean, Maki already knows he's going to get cornered. He's been too quiet, when on normal nights, he would be talking Euijoo's head off, telling him about his day. Euijoo doesn't say anything as he makes Maki get up, picking up the dirty bowls with one hand and the other dragging Maki by the wrist. Euijoo never lets him wash the dishes; not when Maki is this quiet and clearly slipping into something. He just makes him stand there as he hums quietly, scrubbing through everything carefully, but clearly he's working as fast as he can. On a different night, Maki would be plastered to his back, both hands sliding into Euijoo's pant pockets, head resting on his boyfriend's shoulder.

Nevertheless, habits are hard to kick. Maki leans forward to rest his forehead on Euijoo's shoulder, too scared to touch him; his resolve cracks a bit when Euijoo nuzzles against the top of his head affectionately. This time Maki doesn't follow when Euijoo goes to wipe down the counters and the stove, and hanging the rag over the sink, even though every part of him buzzes just because he lost bodily contact. He's not that needy, or so he wants to believe. The click of the light switch spooks him though, and he's reaching out for Euijoo blindly when the kitchen is bathed in darkness immediately. Hands wringing the fabric, forehead creasing and a frown adorning his face when Euijoo doesn't immediately hold him.

Mommy, Maki thinks, when clearly Euijoo doesn't realize what he's done. Puppy's scared of the dark. But Euijoo seems to have forgotten it, filling one last water jug as he drags Maki along. The faint trails of the living room lights peek through the gap, and Maki wishes he could just make a run for it; he whimpers subconsciously, too terrified to even think about it in depth.

"Oh!" Euijoo exclaims, scrambling to turn the lights back on. "Oh, that must have scared you," he says, turning to Maki who has gone a bit pale and is looking around completely dazed. "I lost my train of thought for a moment— sorry, it's— mommy's so sorry." He's then cradling Maki's head gently, rocking him side to side. It's moments like these that remind him that Euijoo's big too, just more lean and less lanky like Maki feels he is. Solid, and everything that screams safety.

"It's work stuff," Euijoo goes on to explain, even though Maki doesn't need it at all. As long as mommy didn't mean to do it, he's okay. Still, he nods, because Euijoo hates it when he doesn't respond.

"I think we should get motion sensors for the kitchen, too," he says, definitively. It's all Maki's fault, actually, because when Euijoo was trying to get those fitted in the kitchen, he had argued that the kitchen was fine, that the light switch was right at the entrance, unlike the other rooms. So, they had just gotten it fixed on the hallways, and the stairs, and places where Maki could wander into but would be too scared to reach the switches — like the second living room, where it was all the way next to the patio door.

"Yeah, maybe," Maki mumbles, unsure what else to say.

"I'll get it done tomorrow, while you're out," he promises, and Maki swoons a bit because Euijoo always makes sure repairs and maintenance stuff is done while he's away; because Maki hates running into random people at home the most. Take their plumber for instance — Maki had almost flashed him because he had slept in and had forgotten that the guy was coming, so he had run into him in just his underwear. Maki wouldn't call it traumatic, but Euijoo doesn't really care what he calls it. He only cares that Maki's bothered by it, because he's sweet like that. He only turns the lights back off once Maki's halfway into the hallway, the lights there flickering on immediately.

"Mm," he hums rather belatedly, even just to make sure Euijoo knows he's listening. The nap did not help at all. He still feels so sleepy. Or, maybe it's because Euijoo's always so warm. It sucks because he was so excited for playtime.

"Is puppy tired?" Euijoo says, placing a kiss on his temple before he lets him go. He's being led up the stairs as he nods. His steps are uncoordinated, and he's still wearing his day clothes — jacket and jeans that feel like it's scratching his skin by now.

Euijoo sets him down on the bed, and Maki yawns as he trails after him with his eyes while his boyfriend carefully lays out their bedtime clothes on the bed behind him.

"Can you go draw a bath?" Euijoo leans down to peck him. "I'll join you in a bit."

Maki rarely bathes alone now. Quick showers before he leaves in the morning are the only exception, and even then he can feel Euijoo's scrutiny from across the room. It's partly Maki's fault, with one too many soap suds in his hair and accidents of the likes; now Euijoo doesn't trust him to bathe or wash up alone. Well, it's that plus Euijoo's urge to perform all his subtle acts of service — ones that make Maki all sweet and fuzzy, especially if his boyfriend was trying to get him to slip into his submissive headspace.

Tonight, Euijoo washes him too, careful and thorough and loving, and Maki almost doesn't want to bring up the thought that plagued him the entire afternoon. He's being led to dry off, one foot after the other as he steps out of the tub, when he calls, "Mommy." It's small and quiet, and so unlike himself. Euijoo's crouching to look at his face immediately.

"Do you think…" Maki's trying to find the words. He's never had to truly voice his concerns this way, because mommy always knows. Maybe Euijoo's tired from work too, and it slipped his mind. "Am I too clingy?" Like ripping a bandaid off.

Euijoo stares at him like he's been doused in ice water.

"Why are you asking that?" The concern in his voice makes Maki avert his gaze; everything feels too heavy right now.

"I just feel like I am," Maki admits, and it sounds ridiculous to him too. Rarely, does he think too deeply about things, and yet when he does, it always seems to end up in a small fight or with Euijoo scolding him. He fears this time won't be any different.

"I like it when you're clingy, though," Euijoo tells him earnestly, draping a towel over him. He's trying to force Maki to look at him, palms pressed to his ears as he holds his face towards him. "Why do you think that's a bad thing?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, trying to brush it off at first. But then he meets Euijoo's eyes for just a second and a part of him succumbs. Euijoo expects honesty from him, and Maki only knows how to obey. "When you said it today… I don't know, it just felt different."

Euijoo frowns, lips worried between his teeth as he stares. Then he says, "Come here," with a slight tug at Maki's neck, before he makes him sit up at the sink counter. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I shouldn't have—"

Maki cuts him off. "It's stupid, I know. I'm sure you didn't mean it that way."

Euijoo stills against him. Then, he hums — to let Maki know he's not dismissing him — as he retrieves a can of shaving foam and Maki's razor from the cabinet behind him. "I think I was just distracted today," he admits, sighing before he swats at Maki's knees, making him spread his legs before he's crouching down. "And it's not stupid if it makes you upset. Sometimes I say things mindlessly. But I mean it when I say I like it when you're clingy. When you won't leave me alone for five minutes without breathing down my neck. I like it even when I seem annoyed."

The spurt of shaving foam in his hand is momentarily distracting. Then, he's rubbing it over Maki's crotch, over the slight bumps of his pubes and over his balls too. His body hair grows too quickly, and Maki, for all his love for being clean shaven, doesn't ever do a good enough job for his own liking. So, Euijoo steps in a lot.

"I just want you to never forget that I like you even when you're being annoying."

There's a part of Maki that wants to play dumb in that instant, faux indignation and a playful little you think I'm annoying? just to pry comfort out of Euijoo's loving hands. But the bigger part of him just wants to be comforted just as is, to take the reassurance for what it is, and make a home out of it.

"Really?"

He's trying not to wince at the first glide of the razor on his skin, as Euijoo's shaving a line down his happy trail. Sometimes Euijoo lets him keep it — his happy trail — because he likes to rub his fingers over it in bed. But most of the time it gets shaven off completely on Maki's request.

"Really."

His bathrobe hangs abandoned by the door, and Maki wishes he was wearing it right now, because he feels far too naked in front of Euijoo. His boyfriend at least has a towel around his waist, and Maki feels like their mismatched state of undress is a bit unfair to him. He's too tired to complain about it though, mind barely there as Euijoo's shaving him carefully, the metal of his razor clanking whenever Euijoo runs the clogged blades under the water and shaking off any excess foam on the side of the sink walls.

"We should have done this before the bath," he says, laughing a bit. "Lift this up please." He's talking about Maki's dick. Maki doesn't know why the dismissive tone paired with Euijoo's focused face makes him a bit dizzy.

He cannot help when he hisses the moment the blades run over his balls, slow and deliberate drags over small areas repetitively. Euijoo knows he's sensitive, that Maki always starts to chub up when it gets to this part, so clearly he's doing this on purpose. He's awfully meticulous, even as Maki's balls are twitching endlessly, and by the time he's rinsing the blades for the first time in a while, Maki's sweating in his spot, boner in full mast.

At this point in their relationship, there is little space left for shame; Euijoo has seen everything Maki has to offer. Yet, he still blushes profusely, and Euijoo keeps shaving him like it's the most menial task in the world, completely ignoring Maki's raging erection. It's almost like it's not even there at all, like it's not staring him in the eye. It's not that Maki has poor control — he's just sensitive, he would argue, even though he does end up hard every time Euijoo shaves him.

"Maki," Euijoo says in lieu of scolding when Maki's grip on his dick falters just once. "Stay still or I'm going to nick you."

Sorry, mommy, sorry.

Maki cannot see straight anymore, balls throbbing in Euijoo's hold. He's starting to leak down on his dominant's hands too, and yet Euijoo just rinses it off like it's not worth acknowledging. Every bead of precum that trickles down makes Maki want to curl up in shame.

"Time to rinse," Euijoo says after a while, hands a mess from the mix of precum and shaving foam as he runs a fist up Maki's length one more time as if that could get him any cleaner. Maki threatens to double over before Euijoo's reaching over to hold him up. He's staggering his way to the tub where Euijoo's already standing. One foot after the other, the subtle bang of his knee against the rim that his lips wobble over, and then Euijoo's spraying over his weeping cock, merciless and careful all the same.

"Stay still," Euijoo says, taking his time rubbing the sprayer over the head of his cock.

Maki thinks it's a bit cruel, seeing that that part of him didn't even get shaved.

He's shaking and trembling, lips going raw against the gnawing of his teeth as he tries his best to stay quiet. The first moan the falls off of his lips, however, bring a dozen more.

"Can't— can't—," Maki chokes while Euijoo's rubbing over his skin thoroughly; his balls throbbing and his entire length pulsating against his hands. "It's going to—"

"I'm just washing you," Euijoo retorts.

It's true, he's barely doing anything out of the ordinary, and yet Maki is vibrating where he stands; every touch a stimulation that borders painful and not enough all at the same time.

"It's not my fault your puppy parts are so sensitive."

There's a slight mockery to his voice that Maki cannot ignore.

Euijoo's rubbing up the underside of his cock with the heel of his palm, one last swipe to clean off any suds, and Maki stills completely as his cock bobs helplessly.

"Mommy, stop," Maki cries, hands in a frenzy as he fights off the urge to touch himself.

Euijoo pauses, eyeing him carefully; Maki trembles under his gaze.

And then he spills — pathetic ropes of cum spurting out in the space between them — the kind of ruined orgasm that makes his chest ache with disappointment. It hits the base of the tub, and both of their feet, and some even trickle down Euijoo's leg.

"Mommy, mommy—"

Maki panics when Euijoo doesn't touch him. It hurts. He doesn't understand why mommy's not helping. He's scrambling to hold Euijoo's forearms in his desperation, crying and sputtering nonsense because it doesn't even feel good anymore. Euijoo shushes him just once as he turns the water off; Maki sobs harder.

He's heaving by the time Euijoo wraps him up in his bathrobe, entire frame shaking as he's led out of the bathroom, eyes hazy from the tears and barely able to see where he's going as Euijoo walks him to their bed.

His boner has not softened even a bit. It hurts even as he settles down on the edge of the mattress. Euijoo's wiping his dripping hair down as he says, "That's enough now."

Against the muffle of the fluffy towel, Maki whines in discontentment.

Euijoo pauses to look at him as he peers up at his boyfriend with a ginormous pout. He's not very happy with how he's being treated right now.

"What?"

Maki whimpers at the curt tone.

Euijoo sighs as he ignores it. He places one knee directly in front of Maki's crotch as if to taunt him. Then he's continuing his ministrations, completely ignoring the fact that Maki's trying his best not to rub himself on him.

Maki, on the other hand, grows quiet in his desperation to focus. The temptation is so near, and so large. Mommy's being mean on purpose, he thinks, disappointed because he was so good today. He didn't break any rules. Mommy's the one who promised to play with him. Maki hates broken promises the most. The noises and complaints cease, but the crying does not. He truly cannot help it, tears streaming down his face silently as he tries to think about nice things — like chocolate covered strawberries, butterscotch and milk toffees, and the smell of his mommy's bodywash on him.

He barely reacts when Euijoo presses his knee further into him, grinding down directly on where it hurts the most. Don't get him wrong, it does feel good, but right now Maki feels a bit rejected, and he'd rather not spoil his own night with the punishment that he's now convinced Euijoo's trying to bait him into.

At some point, Euijoo pulls away completely to throw the towels into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. And when he comes back, he squats and crouches to look at Maki. "What happened to my puppy?" he says as he grabs the waist belt of Maki's robe. It's fluffy and white and has ice cream cone prints all over it. It's Maki's favourite one. "You're oddly well-behaved tonight."

As if in some final attempt to make him lose his footing, Euijoo flicks both his balls and his cockhead consecutivelyc. Maki bites down on his tongue, refusing to make a sound.

"Are you mad at mommy, hm?"

Maki pointedly turns away when Euijoo tries to force him by the jaw.

Euijoo hums again, before he's taking his hand off. "My big boy thinks he's all grown now, huh? You don't need mommy to help you anymore."

It's not true.

Maki will always need Euijoo. And right now, he needs him even more, because his brain is all fuzzy but he just cannot let go. What if he breaks rules while he's under? What if he cannot listen properly and mommy gets upset? What if he misbehaves? It's all too scary to think about.

"Look at me for a moment," Euijoo mutters. Maki follows the instruction with his heart in his throat. For some reason, looking directly at Euijoo has always been difficult for him; like it's something closer to blasphemy. It leaves him wondering how long every single time — how long until he's not allowed to look anymore? His brows twitch as he fails to reel himself away from thinking about it.

Euijoo, however, is peering down intently, studying his features like he's trying to gauge what Maki needs out of it. Then, the creases on his forehead appear, all while Maki's trying to make sure he's not breathing too hard as he stares up at him, and then Euijoo's eyes soften a bit.

"Why are you fighting it so much tonight, puppy? Do you not want to go under? Is that it?"

Maki shakes his head, feeling cross at what Euijoo was suggesting. He just needs a little help, is all.

"What is it, then?"

Puppy's just being stupid. He should have been all soft and sweet by now, but he's been so stubborn the entire night that it feels all wrong at this point. He feels himself tipping too close to a tantrum — something that very rarely happens — but his senses are so fried right now that he cannot quite recall what got him so upset.

He pulls away from his boyfriend a bit, face scrunched up as he stares at the rug under his feet while Euijoo holds him by the elbows. He's not good at explaining things.

"'m scared," he whispers, lips barely parting in his reluctance to form the words.

"Hm?" Euijoo's quick to pick up on it, though.

Maki feels stupid, genuinely.

"What are you scared of, Maki?"

Sniffling wetly, he just shakes his head again. He doesn't want to say it; can't say it; doesn't like it when mommy calls him by name, either. Everything feels wrong.

"That you won't be good?"

Hook, line and sinker.

Euijoo always knows.

Even when Maki refuses to say it, even when he thinks it's the worst thing to admit. It's something that should come so naturally; instead Maki is always running seventy different loops before he can be brave enough to ask for what he needs.

When Euijoo takes a few steps back and lets go of his arms, Maki subconsciously reaches to hold onto him — trembling hands finding purchase on Euijoo's wrists, already two seconds away from crying again.

"I'm not going anywhere," Euijoo promises, clearly having already figured out what Maki is thinking.

"Come here for a sec," he says before he's pressing Maki down flat on the mattress. Euijoo crawls past him towards the headboard, patting his thighs as he waits for Maki to follow.

"Up, up!"

Several synaptic firings. Maki feels his entire body rewire itself. He scrambles up until he can flop down and rest his face on the side of Euijoo's inner thigh.

"Not there, up here."

Up here means in Euijoo's arms, where he can cradle Maki's blushing red face to his bare chest while he lands a dozen smooches on every place he can reach. "You're so silly," he says, sounding exasperated. "I don't care if you misbehave. Besides, you rarely ever do, not even when you're all spaced out and you can't form words. And I don't think it's my puppy's job to worry about that."

"But it's scary," Maki whines lowly, lips upturned as he tries to blink his tears away.

"What are you scared of, then?" Euijoo humors him for just a bit. "Punishment? When have I ever—"

"You won't love puppy anymore."

He feels Euijoo freeze up against him, and Maki sobs out loud. It's true it's true it's true. He's trying to pull away, suddenly scared to be held in case this was already crossing a line, terrified for something he can't name and yet—

"No, no," Euijoo's strong when he wants to be. He's squeezing Maki in place while he shushes his quiet cries. "I'm sorry, I should have—" Euijoo cuts himself off to lean down and kiss Maki's quivering lips.

"You already had such a long day. Such a sensitive one, too," he says wiping at Maki's face almost haphazardly. "I shouldn't have dragged it out."

Maki figures he might be talking about the punishment bait. He doesn't really know. There's a lot happening that he doesn't really understand. Why was mommy sorry? Maki blinks quietly at Euijoo's worried face, seemingly pausing his own crying in his confusion. Euijoo leans down to kiss his tears away.

"Mommy loves puppy, sooo much," he whispers against Maki's cheek. "I have the best one in the world, how could I not love him?"

He sounds choked up. Maki frowns at the sight of tears clinging to Euijoo's lashes.

It's hard to find the words when Euijoo's staring at him this intently. Maki's fine with just being held; it feels warm and tender and it makes him all fuzzy around the edges, fingertips tingling as he touches Euijoo's face. They just stare at each other for a while, as Euijoo runs his palm up and down Maki's flank, then he's grinning when the younger boy grows antsy.

When he leans in to kiss him, Maki's quiet. For all his usual whining and petulant noises, he likes to instead melt into kisses because like this Euijoo always feel closest to him. Something more tangible and solid, tongue prying Maki's mouth open like he's settling into his soul. It soothes something so tender inside him. His hands wander over Maki's body, cold fingers always a bit ticklish on warm skin; there's something a bit heartbreaking about how careful Euijoo can be with him at times.

Maki grows braver, chasing Euijoo's mouth with the kind of greed he has always struggled to hide. As if to say, here, touch me here, he grabs Euijoo's wrist to drag his hand downwards.

At first Euijoo doesn't really touch him. He hovers and he caresses, and for a moment Maki thinks he's okay with it, even if this is all he gets tonight. But then, Euijoo pulls away, smiling as he peers down at Maki's curious face. "Turn around for me?" he says, and Maki would never not obey. He's awkward and large and all clumsy in his hurry, but Euijoo's never not patient, even as Maki takes his awful time trying to get into the right position. Euijoo slowly slips his arms through Maki's sides, back to chest, before he's locking Maki's thighs in with his own legs.

It's mildly embarrassing — the way Euijoo's forcing his legs open — until they're both staring down at Maki's cock, still ready for any attention Euijoo is willing to give him. He's gone a bit soft, but Euijoo doesn't seem deterred by it at all. First his palm slides down over his navel slowly, while Maki watches every movement with bated breaths. Then he rubs the heel of his palm down Maki's length, a bit too raw and a bit too dry now, even though Maki would never complain about it in a million years.

Euijoo turns his head to kiss him again, right as he closes both of his hands — fists tightening over Maki's embarrassingly reactive dick.

"Easy," he soothes when he feels Maki shake against him.

Sometimes slipping into his submissive headspace is a lot more intimate than Maki wants it to be. Like when Euijoo's whispering praise into the skin of his neck, lips hovering like a phantom kiss over every prickly raise of goosebumps, all while he's working Maki towards an orgasm he's unsure he's even earned. All he did was be difficult the entire night. He's not bad at nonverbal cues — he's had his entire life to figure those out — but sometimes his brain just prefers and craves explicit commands to the point that it ignores everything else. Tonight was particularly awful, because some part of him perceived every attempt Euijoo made to have him slip as something akin to trickery.

There's a rule they never did write down or discuss. It's something that established itself over the course of their first few months of dating — back when Maki was still too scared to ask for the things he wanted, terrified to ask to be controlled even when he knew Euijoo was more than willing. It's a very simple, unassuming rule that doesn't even have to actually be a rule in all honesty, but Maki loves it, and Euijoo loves anything Maki loves.

"Close," he stutters out, like all other times, equal parts a signal as it is a cry for help. He always tells mommy when he's close. That's the most important unspoken, and sometimes spoken, rule.

This time, Euijoo doesn't take his hand off for even a second, stroking him through his oncoming orgasm almost too rigorously. His thighs are fighting against Euijoo's restraints, wobbling helplessly as the first spurt of cum hits Maki's torso.

"There we go," Euijoo says softly, and Maki wants to curl up against himself. "Doing so well, baby." It's almost mortifying how much he's cumming, spurt after spurt, painting his own skin and Euijoo's hand; white mess dribbling as he whines in embarrassment, twisting his head in attempts to hide, even though it's impossible from this angle. At most, he can nose against Euijoo's jaw pathetically.

"Why are you suddenly shy?" the teasing lilt of his voice makes Maki whine louder. "You've always been a leaky pup. It's nothing new to mommy."

And oh, Maki doesn't realize what he means at first, not until he spares a suspicious glance at his own pulsating cock, still pouring like a fountain. It doesn't look like jizz anymore. It's… it's something else. Maki immediately panics as he tries to wriggle out of Euijoo's hold. He's still in his ice cream robe and Euijoo just changed the sheets today. He has no towel under him as a safety net, and he doesn't understand why Euijoo's not more worried about this than he is.

"B-bathroom. Mommy, bathroom, please," Maki sniffles, but Euijoo doesn't let up.

Euijoo's calls of his name falls on deaf ears. Maki has to get away, has to go deal with his mess and wash up again because he's dirty and he's getting everything dirty — even mommy's hands.

"—Maki!"

Maki freezes. Euijoo rarely calls him by name in a scene.

"It's not piss, baby," Euijoo says, kissing the shell of his ear, while his hands are still hovering over Maki's slowly drooping cock. "It's also okay if it was, but look — it's not piss."

Euijoo's definitely lying a little, because Maki's bladder definitely feels suspiciously empty after that. But when Euijoo shows him his wet hands, the liquid still has a bit of viscosity. It's only a teeny tiny bit watery.

"It's what happens when your body gets overstimulated," he explains, voice fond and gentle. Maki lets himself bask in the sense of safety it brings. "It has happened before too, but you were usually too out of it to notice." He kisses right below Maki's ear — twice, because once is never enough. "And it's okay even if it was piss. Puppies can have accidents."

Maki's tongue curls against the roof of his mouth. "It's icky," he mumbles quietly. Euijoo's being oddly calm about this.

"Not to me," Euijoo says simply, face resting against the side of Maki's head, until all Maki can focus on is his warm breath teasing the shell of his ear.

Maki chances a glance at the liquid pooling around his pelvis. And it's almost comical how quickly Euijoo can sense his discomfort, because in less than a minute he's wiping Maki down with the towel he'd left around his waist. The thing is Maki likes getting messy, but there's a certain line where the mess just feels like it's his mess alone, and getting messy starts to feel like being messy, and he cannot quite explain why that distinction exists in his head.

"Leaky," Euijoo teases just once more before he kisses Maki's shoulder — right over a mole he always says is shaped like a heart.

Maki's never seen it himself.

He'll just have to take mommy's word for it, like he does with all other things.

Because being in love is weird. Maki knows the sound of Euijoo's footsteps by heart, and the bend of his own spine when curled around the older man. Maki wants to be an extension of Euijoo; Euijoo just wants to love him. Maki thinks they can learn to compromise.

⟢

Sometimes Maki likes to take Euijoo on dates.

It's never awfully fancy, unless he's saved up his holiday money along with tips from his part-time job. When that lines up well, he likes to take Euijoo out for something more classy — like filet mignon, or fancy bakery cafes when Euijoo feels particularly sweet-toothed that week. But ever since Euijoo made him quit his part-time job — something about being overworked, and his grades dropping — it's been harder to save; even if he does get daily allowance that Euijoo always overthinks the amount of. It's always too much, and he's always guilty to spend all of, so Maki in turn would get groceries on his way home. It's the only inconspicuous way to return the money without Euijoo scolding him for it.

Euijoo earns enough, with enough being an clear exaggeration even if Maki doesn't know how exactly to estimate it. But they're comfortable, and he's brazen enough to admit that he's utterly and thoroughly spoiled. And yet Euijoo doesn't complain about it when Maki takes him out on fun, cheap dates he spends days planning for; he likes it even, because Euijoo never fails to tell him how much he likes it, how much he looks forward to it. Sometimes it's noodles by the Han river. Sometimes it's just a stargazing picnic with poorly-made kimbap that Maki packs from home. It's little post-it notes on Euijoo's barely nutritious lunches, the kind Maki has to get up extra early for, and made with love nonetheless.

Tonight, it's to the cinema, because on Sunday afternoon, Euijoo had said something about a new Korean adaptation of a western movie — one he had gone to see with his mom as a kid. He'd said it in passing, like a flickering thought, and Maki had written it down on his palm in a hurry.

Half of loving Euijoo is listening, and the other half is remembering. Maki likes to believe he's always done a good job so far.

They always share a tub of popcorn — salty, not sweet — and it's always Maki's duty to hold it. Separate drinks, so they can have half of each when they cannot decide on one flavour. Euijoo likes it when Maki feeds him by hand, even though they do take turns with it; but he gets all soft and smiley when Maki does it, so that one tips the scale.

Today, they get the deluxe recliner seats, the ones that are furthest up the back, with complimentary refills and blankets, which is perfect because Euijoo always tends to run a bit cold. There's no arm rest barring them either, cushy seats at the ideal height and eye level to watch the screen. Maki swears he's not falling asleep this time; determined with the urge to love anything Euijoo loves. He's going to pay attention and make mental notes and then they'll have a cute little debrief session over the kitchen counter while he snacks on his pickles.

He's never going to grow out of the urge to impress Euijoo — constant, consuming, and utterly baffling sometimes how far he is willing to go.

Maybe that's why, twenty minutes into the movie, Maki's sweating buckets under the blanket and trying not to get cross-eyed every time Euijoo moves his wrist. It started out innocent, with a hand rubbing over his thigh, pinching a bit when Euijoo laughs along with the crowd. It was mostly soothing at first. And it's not something so out of the ordinary because while Maki is definitely more handsy, Euijoo undoubtedly has his moods. Not that Maki's complaining, of course.

"Be still."

Euijoo's not being fair. He should know better than anyone how difficult it is for Maki to keep still; especially when he has a hand shoved into Maki's pants and briefs, stroking him to full hardness without taking his eyes off of the screen for even a second. It's painfully unfair because Euijoo knows all his ticks, all the spots and ways to get him going.

Maki should have had suspicions when Euijoo chose these particular seats — isolated, quiet, and out of everyone's eyes.

It's too late now though, because Euijoo's unearthing the hand cream Maki got him for Christmas — the one he always threatens to lick off of Euijoo's hands because it smells so good — a distinct spurt when Euijoo takes his hand out for just a second and then…

"Oh god."

Maki bites down on his own fist when Euijoo strokes him again. This time he's closing his fist tighter. Maki cannot help it when his recliner creaks repeatedly from his thrashing.

"No cumming. I don't want to get my hand dirty."

How cruel.

Maki wants to argue that Euijoo's hand was already plenty dirty, judging from the wet squelches alone.

"Mommy," he whines, low and desperate.

He's so close, it's not possible; Euijoo's asking too much of him. He's never been good at self control, it's something they've had to work on for years now, and it's downright atrocious that Euijoo's rubbing over his slit in the way that he likes and he's not even allowed to enjoy it.

And then, it's gone.

Completely.

Euijoo pulls his hand out, elastic snapping as he does, and he goes back to watching the movie like Maki's not three seconds away from crying, eyes trained at the side of Euijoo's face with something akin to heartbreak in his eyes. Confused, and a little lost, Maki still takes it in stride. He tucks himself in properly and decides to himself that maybe mommy was only teasing. It's probably not playtime yet. He swears he can ignore the ache in his groin.

When Euijoo starts groping him again, at what Maki thinks might be halfway into the movie, he just accepts it then too. He doesn't shy away from it, and he doesn't ask for more. Euijoo works him towards the edge slowly again, in the same absentminded manner, except this time he's stealing glances that Maki pretends he cannot see. He doesn't chase Euijoo's hand this time either, when he pulls away, leaving Maki writhing in his seat from how the painful ache washes over him. So close, he can almost taste it, vision blurring with white burnt spot.

"Good boy," Euijoo says, leaning over to kiss a trail down his cheek.

It gets quiet again, and Maki completely gives up on watching the movie, choosing instead to trail his eyes over Euijoo's face. He can pirate the movie later, and they can watch it in the living room while cuddled up on their air mattress. He'll probably do this then, too — eyes taking in every miniscule twitch on Euijoo's face, every blink and every flutter of his lashes, the ways his eyes would gloss over on certain scenes, and the way he squints when the screen gets a tad too bright. A myriad of colours, interchanging, washing over Euijoo's face. Maki watches with his breath held.

"You're staring," Euijoo remarks softly, before he blinks and turns to him.

Maki rests his head against the cushion there, because Euijoo always looks at him so tenderly. It's intoxicating, and overwhelming, and Maki's still too timid to really bask in it. He forces himself to turn back to the screen, pointedly keeps his eyes fixed on the way the main actress is fixing her hair; refusing to budge even when Euijoo leans closer into his space. Then, he's palming him over his pants again, head bowed to kiss the exposed skin of Maki's chest very gently. It's a bit too intimate — feels too much like a stolen moment — and Maki can't bear the feeling for long before he's breathless and aching again.

"Just one more," Euijoo huffs, and in his periphery, Maki can feel him peer up at him. "One more, and then you can have whatever you want when we get home." It doesn't take a genius to figure out that one more means one more toe-curling agonizing near-orgasm that Euijoo will leave him high and dry for. Euijoo likes to edge him, but not like this, and not in public. He must be in one of his moods today.

Still, Maki nods, signing the contract to his own demise.

Euijoo smiles against his skin, suckling over it like he's trying to leave a mark. Maki hopes it bruises.

The tension feels like a violin string about to snap this time, and Maki has to plant both feet on his tiptoes on the floor to ground himself. He's not above begging, but a part of him is wired to only beg when he's told to, otherwise, he just feels selfish. So, he cries. Quiet, meek, wet sobs while Euijoo laps at his tears. Uncontrollable floodgates opening once he starts.

Euijoo kisses him as he's pulling away this time. And Maki thinks to himself, that's it then, even though it sets his nerves on fire to even try and calm down. There's a surprised yelp dying in his throat when Euijoo undoes his fly instead, and Maki, curious and a bit worried, cannot help but stare at him questioningly. Euijoo wrestles his dick free, winking up at him against the dim lights of the screen before he's crouching down, enclosing his lips over his head.

Maki keeps staring, waiting for any sign of approval — Euijoo nods just once — and then he's relaxing into the warmth of his dominant's mouth. It doesn't take him a lot to fall over the edge; hips bucking up further into Euijoo's mouth than he thinks he's allowed, slowly releasing against the tongue swirling around him. The orgasm almost feels painful, because he's been strung out for so long, and Maki has to throw his head back — teeth clamping down on his own forearm to keep quiet — eyes screwed shut while Euijoo works him through it.

When he's done Euijoo pulls off with a mortifyingly loud pop that makes Maki clench. It's highly inappropriate to be doing this here, but amidst the high and the kiss Euijoo pulls him into, there so little room to care. A soft sound escapes from his chest when he tastes himself on Euijoo's tongue.

"Good?" Euijoo says as he leans back to look at him.

"Good," Maki replies, strained.

He doesn't know why he genuinely believed Euijoo would have let him walk home with his raging boner. Sometimes he forgets that while Euijoo likes to make him cry, make him whine a bit for it, at the end of it all Euijoo's never cruel. He's practical, and considerate, and he always makes it known that Maki's comfort is always his first priority.

"Puppy's all fucked out," Euijoo whispers, eyes trailing all over his face.

Maki thinks if he could look at himself at the moment, he would look extremely stupid — eyes hazy and unfocused — with his entire body buzzing with the urge to slip deeper.

"Floaty," he tells Euijoo, even though he's pretty sure Euijoo already knows.

"Mmhm," Euijoo nods, curling up closer to him to pull Maki to his chest. "You can be. I've got you."

"Love you mommy," Maki whispers, because it's crucial that he tells Euijoo that at least five times a day.

"I love you too baby," Euijoo says while kissing the crown of his head. "Should we leave early? Get out of here before the crowd?" He's carefully tucking Maki's spent cock back in, zipping him up with a soft little pat. It makes Maki smile to himself.

He finds himself nodding, because he's not sure he can handle the rush out at the moment. Maybe he can cuddle Euijoo on the ride home. Maybe Euijoo will let him drool on his fingers if he's good. Maybe he'll even get to warm him when they get home. Maki wants everything.

"Good boy," Euijoo says, pecking his cheek. Maki doesn't know which part he's getting praised for, but he takes it with a soft giggle nonetheless.

"Come on."

Euijoo's outstretched hand is still a little moist. Maki doesn't know why his tongue curls in his mouth, drool pooling at the thought of holding hands over his own… mess. His loins stir in interest, nonetheless.

"Let's go home."

Being in love is weird, because home is a hand in his and the flutter of Euijoo's hair. It's the doorway lights that spark up the minute they step in, and the mess of their shoes entangled together in the shoe cabinets. When someone says home, he doesn't think of walls and floorboards and white vases on console tables anymore. He just thinks of Euijoo instead. He thinks of Euijoo and his hands; of the smile when he squints at the sun that should not be as gentle as it is; of early mornings and his soft breathing, and his tendency to kick in his sleep. Maki will always miss home, even when he's pressed right into it.

⟢

Maki doesn't think it's weird that Euijoo gets off on seeing him crying. It's possibly the most common kind of power trip that he believes almost all dominants indulge in, but sometimes Euijoo gets a bit more intense about it during a scene. Maki doesn't hate it when he does, and most days he's really good at soaking up that energy like a sponge; because it's the way he was built, a submissive of the highest grade if there were grades to give, absorbing Euijoo's dominant energy until he can feel it buzz in the pits of his guts.

The dilemma, however, begs to be addressed — sometimes Maki thinks it's difficult not to imagine Euijoo would be better suited with someone more intense than he is. Because at the end of the day, Maki's softer around the edges, cries because he cannot help it, and cries at the slightest bit of change in Euijoo's demeanor. Euijoo would do well with a brat. Maki could never be a brat; they'd have to take him apart in a lab and reconstruct the very core of his being. And sometimes when Euijoo gets a bit meaner, words sharper in the way that makes Maki feel like prey under his gaze, it's times like these that make him wonder if he's really well-suited for Euijoo after all.

Tonight, Euijoo hadn't been kind. He's using words he hardly uses, and after almost a week of overtime and pulling through on a project that drove him a bit insane, Maki understands the need for an outlet. Euijoo has an outlet, one that was built to serve. Except, tonight he's not doing it very well. The spanking was fine. The no-touching rule implemented in the middle of Maki wringing his fists into Euijoo's shirt was mildly painful — heart sinking into his stomach — but still Maki hadn't really taken it as cruelty. It's the third punishment that breaks him.

"I should just leave you here," Euijoo says, voice flat and eyes tired, small smile that borders mockery as he sways in his seat. His hand is absentmindedly holding onto Maki's leash, tugging on it whenever he gets bored. Maki thinks his collar is definitely going to leave a mark tonight.

"I gave you one instruction, puppy, don't hump my leg." He looks a bit too annoyed for Maki's liking, like he might actually mean it and is not just teasing. "If you can't follow such a basic instruction, then I don't feel like playing with you."

It's like being bathed in ice.

Maki wouldn't react to it this terribly on a different night, or at least that's what he'd like to believe. But sometimes, when Euijoo says something a bit out of the ordinary, something that rubs him oddly in just the right way, it breaks Maki out of the stupor a bit.

He's quiet for a while, terrified to look at Euijoo as he cries without a sound. Euijoo tugs on his leash again, clearly prompting for a response. Maki straightens up as he wipes his own cheeks, heaving a bit when Euijoo doesn't immediately pick up on the shift of his mood. He tries to level with himself, truly, even as he's shaking with his quiet sobs; there's still a part of him that wishes he could just pull through.

"Are you too dumb to answer or—"

Maki chokes. "Yellow."

Except it's too quiet, and Euijoo has to bend down to his eye level. It doesn't help that Maki is completely naked, and Euijoo's still fully dressed, with his legs crossed as he sits on the couch in front of him. And suddenly it feels all wrong.

"Y-yellow," Maki repeats, a bit louder this time, because he needs Euijoo to stop degrading him right this instant. It's getting to his head, and every word that falls off of his dominant's lips feels intentional. Maki hates it. Hates that he's letting it get to him even more.

"Maki."

Euijoo sounds alarmed. He's immediately crouching in front of Maki, holding up his heavy head with both hands, leash dropped to the side.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Maki can't say it at first, choosing instead to raise his arms towards Euijoo's direction, hold me. Maki feels like a log in Euijoo's arms, slumped against his body in mild guilt even though he knows Euijoo is more than capable of holding him up. It's awful, because rarely does he experience a subdrop. Euijoo always makes him toe the line, but never does he make him drop. So, when it does happen, usually on accident, he hits the low harder than normal.

There's incoherent babbling and sputtering that follows, while Euijoo tries to make sense of it word by word, hands a soothing presence on Maki's back as he rubs over it like he's trying to warm him. When Maki quiets down a bit, Euijoo brings him to the couch, even though he threatens to fall over him like twice, and Euijoo has to really struggle to maneuver his large body in the way he wants. He's sitting in Euijoo's lap, sideways, head tucked into his neck, while Euijoo draws circles on the side of his thigh. It's always a tight fit, because Maki is big in ways that Euijoo isn't, but Euijoo always does his best to make him feel small.

"You didn't like it when mommy was mean?" Euijoo presses, nuzzling the crown of Maki's head fondly. "Is that it, baby?"

Maki nods, feeling a bit like he's been clawed out of his body.

There's shame lingering where it shouldn't, because Maki knows he did ask for this — asked Euijoo to do anything to him. An urge so innate he could feel it consume him, because he'll always prefer serving Euijoo, especially when he knows he can bring relief. Maybe that's why it feels so awful now.

"It's okay, it's okay," Euijoo tries to reassure him. "It's okay to not like things. Thank you for telling me, baby."

Except, it's not really okay. Maki should have thought this through, or at least find a way to mediate the situation in his favour. He got too into his head and forgot to communicate his needs. "I just—," Maki starts, trembling from the core out when Euijoo tries to look at him. "I just got so— so scared," he explains, even though Euijoo probably doesn't need his explanation. "W-we can try again," Maki says, nodding fervently against Euijoo's shoulder, the fabric of his cardigan rubbing hsi cheek raw. "I just— just need a moment."

"What do you mean, try again?" Euijoo asks pointedly. "We are not doing anything that makes you—"

"I c-can do it— can try again," Maki huffs, even though he knows full well he's already heaving from the thought alone.

"No, Maki," Euijoo tells him firmly. Maki squeezes him tighter at the sound of his own name. He has always reacted weirdly to being called by name, especially within a scene. "That's red for me, do you hear?"

Sorry, mommy.

A cacophony of noises that almost flutters towards incoherence.

There was a time when Euijoo would ask Maki, careful and soft — can I touch you — when it happens, because Euijoo is the type of person who lives life with the belief that it's better to be safe than sorry. But getting used to each other's ticks and quirks means learning slowly, and almost painfully — how much Maki actually needs to be touched. And Euijoo won't lie and say it isn't awkward sometimes, when he has to lie on top of Maki's trembling body like a human compress, but it's also terribly sweet.

"You did nothing wrong, puppy. You listened so well, and you used your signals, and you tapped out of it before we both lost control," Euijoo whispers onto his temple, breath warm against the skin.

"I wanted to like it," Maki says, throat tight as his eyes well up again at the recall of how badly he wanted it to work.

"I know, baby," Euijoo placates him, "but there's nothing wrong with not liking it."

"I just… I feel a little bit like…"

Maki clamps his mouth shut, knowing he'll be crossing Euijoo's boundaries if he mentions anything about I could like it if I tried. He's too hardbound to please, and sometimes he's not sure even Euijoo understands the depth of how that goes.

"Hm?"

"I think I was just." Maki sighs heavily as he tries to find the words. "I'm not very good at noticing when I'm scared."

Euijoo nods in agreement, but doesn't really respond.

"But I'm not scared, I think. Or, at least it wasn't like— like real fear. I think it was more of the possibility that you could mean it that made me feel so…"

"Unsafe?"

Euijoo always knows what he's trying to say, even if Maki butchers it three words in and mid-sentence. He gives Euijoo a small nod, head bouncing against the throw-pillow under his head. The floor is starting to feel a bit cold. Maki keeps his eyes on the wall clock hanging diagonal to him.

"It's weird, I don't really know how I should— I mean, how to explain it."

Euijoo raises himself a bit to look at him. "You don't have to," he says, plopping a kiss on Maki's cheek, smiling against him when he feels the younger boy's dimple pop out.

"But I do feel safe. I always feel safe with you."

Maki thinks it's important that Euijoo knows.

"Thank you for telling me that, baby," Euijoo says, face melting into a soft, almost sad smile. Sometimes it's good to remind him things too, even if mommy knows everything, Maki thinks. "Should we head to bed now? Before your butt freezes?"

Euijoo nuzzles Maki's face as he says it, until it's a rapture of giggles and wiggling that bleed into the space.

Putting Maki to bed is pretty simple. He's big and clumsy, but he's obedient, and he doesn't move unless prompted. First, Euijoo washes him down — freesia and pear that turn into soap suds that make Maki look so terribly soft. Then, it's brushing his teeth, Euijoo crouched down while Maki sits on a plastic stool, hands on his knees with his mouth wide open. Then, it's drying his hair, with a little cushion brush the shape of angel wings, and then he ties it all together with a little spritz of their perfume. Yes, their, because Maki loves everything Euijoo loves, and that includes smelling like his mommy all the time.

Changing him into his jammies is also a ridiculously easy task. He wiggles into clothes, and blushes and giggles when Euijoo tickles his tummy as he puts his shirt on for him. He might wriggle away from tickles but when Euijoo doesn't do it, Maki always asks why. Except, he does it quietly, big brown eyes pooling with soft accusation — the most endearing kind — as his entire face turns questioning. Euijoo thinks Maki looks the cutest like that.

The real challenge is getting Maki to stay put in bed. At first, it'll be small things, like getting back up to take off his pyjama pants, or refilling his water bottle all the way downstairs in the kitchen — which he makes Euijoo get up with him for most nights. Tonight, he's even antsier than other nights, and Maki knows Euijoo is definitely getting a bit annoyed with him after he changes the night light setup for the third time. Not that Euijoo shows any sign or irritation whatsoever; Maki just thinks he is.

"Puppy," Euijoo shuffles closer to him when Maki crawls back into the covers. "Look at mommy," he instructs, raising himself to turn on the overhead lights for a few moments. And for a while Maki thinks he's really done something wrong, at least until Euijoo's eyes land on his and he asks very carefully, "Do you still feel buzzy?"

At first, Maki doesn't really understand why Euijoo's asking it. He had plently of aftercare. He was bathed and dried, and Euijoo even put his lotion everywhere on him, and he smells completely like Euijoo to the point that they could absorb into each other and no one would be able to tell. Except, if he really thinks about it, Maki reckons Euijoo's not asking him this without sound evidence, or at least a solid basis for suspicion.

Maki wants to say I don't know, yet again. Because truly, what does he know? Nonetheless, it's getting tiring for him to always rely on the same old phrase to warp his way out of his own headspace. Instead, he chooses to be honest.

"A bit?" he admits, albeit hesitantly.

At that, Euijoo nods and turns the light off. "Stay here," he instructs, and Maki barely has time to process what he means before Euijoo's getting up and heading to the bathroom. He knows Maki so well, because he turns the light on and leaves the door ajar so his needy puppy can watch him as he washes his hand in the dry area. Nonetheless, Maki whimpers in disapproval.

"You can literally still see me," Euijoo chuckles, a bit tutting but amused all the same.

Maki grumbles defiantly.

Albeit his fussing, he already knows how this one goes. Euijoo brushes over each and every of his nails almost vigorously, rinsing and lathering multiple times before he deems them clean. Then, he grabs a clean hand towel from the lower cabinet, and before Maki can really complain about being left alone, he's already wobbling on the mattress, crawling towards Maki on his knees.

Then, he flops down, and opens his arms wide, as if to say, come to mommy, and Maki laughs before he backs into Euijoo's chest; he knows this dance by heart. Euijoo leans over his shoulders a bit to find Maki's open and lax mouth, two fingers slipping in easily.

"Now, go to sleep," he says before leaving a big smooch on his cheek.

Being in love is weird, because Maki never told Euijoo how much he loves being little spoon. On their first time cuddling, Euijoo just knew. Being in love slows your heart, breathing syncing up; sometimes your skins feel like they could fuse together, softness on softness. Maki has a bedtime routine filled with fussing, and being difficult. Euijoo has a bedtime routine of placating his fussing, and loving the difficult. Maki likes to believe they're plenty good at loving each other; he has a feeling Euijoo would agree.

⟢

Hectic schedules and Maki do not bode well together.

Finals season bring demons he has never met before, and Maki finds himself reacting to everything pretty badly. Or at least, he thinks he is. Euijoo remains in his periphery — unfazed, and patient still, even when Maki loses his mind over small things like spilt milk — literally. He makes Maki snacks, massages his neck and shoulders when Maki raises them out of habit, and on the days he gets to work from home, he's hovering over Maki constantly. Hovering, because he doesn't intrude, but he's like a phantom limb waiting for Maki to lean on him.

On the last day of his exams, he leaves without eating breakfast. Slips out of bed completely dissheveled before Euijoo can stir awake. Euijoo likes to make him sit down for all meals, and Maki likes to skip everything that he feels isn't important; knowing full well the time wasted could be time he spent studying instead. And there's something about Euijoo that always makes Maki want to succumb — to what, he's unsure. But Euijoo makes him soft, and some days Maki doesn't want to be soft.

The bus ride makes him nauseous, and so does the three-hour exam in a cold, somewhat empty lecture hall.

Two weeks of torture, and trying to keep his head afloat, ends on a Friday afternoon when the sun is still high in the sky. Maki squints his way out of the block building, shielding himself with his admit card. It takes him fifteen steps towards the general direction of the exit before he bumps into someone's shoes, and for a second Maki apologizes, until he realizes the person starts blocking the sun out for him —

"Took you long enough."

Maki has to do a double take.

"Hyung," he gasps.

Euijoo raises a brow at the nickname.

Maki doesn't really know why he said it. Euijoo doesn't seem upset by it, just merely suprised, but sometimes… just sometimes, he feels the urge to tuck away that part of him in public. Too tender, too delicate. A part of him wants to let everyone know, because it's common practice anyway — to call one's dominant's by a given nickname of authority — but Maki has to admit that some days his heart feels too succulent inside him. Like someone could pinch it and it'll rot right at the scab. It's not easy being him, and it's definitely not easy letting himself go.

"Hyung, what are you doing here?"

Euijoo smiles before he ruffles Maki's hair gently, standing on his tippy toes to block him when Maki squints against the sunlight. They both burst into soft laughter.

"I took the rest of the day off," he says, hand finding Maki's easily, dragging him towards the exit. "You would know if you hadn't run off this morning."

Maki gulps nervously. "I didn't want to wake you."

Euijoo stops for a moment to give him a stern stare. Maki clams up quickly. They both know he's lying out of his ass anyways.

"There's a lot I let you get away with," Euijoo explains simply. Taking three strides forward, before he stops again, already feeling the cogs turning in Maki's head. "Not like that."

Maki laughs, because this side of Euijoo — fretting, worried — is endearing too.

"I meant—" Euijoo clears his throat, walking ahead again, Maki following closely. "I like letting you have your way sometimes. It's cute."

Maki feels like he's dripping and melting all over the pavement Euijoo makes them walk on; traces of him on every step, vibrant splotches of love leaking out of him from the seams.

The drive home is quiet.

Maki likes to let his thoughts rest after a particularly busy week, jaw tight with tension and a heavy ache in his chest. Mostly he misses Euijoo, even when he's right next to him, humming along to a song he says came out when he was in middle school. Sometimes Maki likes to imagine him: big linen shirts, long flowy slacks and the kind of awkward crouch all tall boys are sujected to in their first growth spurt. Shorter hair. Euijoo says he hated P.E. Maki thinks he would have run every lap for him if he could.

"I already ordered lunch," Euijoo says after a long-standing silence, just as he's shutting the engine off.

He is then leaning over to unclasp Maki's seatbelt, and for a second Maki steals the chance to rub against him, breathing the smell of his shampoo in as he buries his face into Euijoo's hair.

"Puppy?"

Maki doesn't really get it — why the urge to be as close to Euijoo as physically possible, hits him at the weirdest times. "Just a bit," he mumbles, pout apparent in his voice. "Stay like this just for a little bit."

Euijoo's small, amused exhale doesn't go unnoticed, and it's possibly a horrible position to twist his body into. Still Euijoo adjusts, sliding his arms along Maki's sides until he can hug him — really hug him — until Maki deflates into the cushion of the seat, and against the curve of Euijoo's bones.

"Missed you," he whispers, tone subdued by the whine that's all too familiar.

"I missed you too, baby."

It's the kind of statement that warrants itself a silent explanation. It doesn't matter that they still saw each other every day, or that Euijoo took care of Maki carefully even while he was volatile and stressed and reactive. Because missing is easy, because Maki missed Euijoo even when they were tangled together under the sheets, body to body and skin to skin until it was difficult to tell where Euijoo began and Maki ended. Because Euijoo missed him, even when he had his face buried into Maki's nape while the younger boy stress-wrote pointers after pointers on flash cards with little paw prints on the edges.

Missing someone is not about absence; it's something that happens even in spite of presence.

Maki feels the revelation curl like a vice around his throat, even as he lets Euijoo go; even as Euijoo refuses to let go for a few bated moments more. Euijoo carries his bag into the apartment, while Maki trudges after him — one hand in Euijoo's, and the other curled and twisted into the lower hem of Euijoo's jacket. The clank of the dish bowl in the doorway when Euijoo drops his keys in, feels like a welcome home signal.

Euijoo doesn't ever ask him how his exams went, not unless Maki prompts him to ask, or he starts talking about it himself. It's those moments of quiet belief and trust that Maki lets himself bask in — Euijoo trusts him enough to take care of himself, and Maki is confident he's still loved even if he flunks.

Maki lets himself be fed, hands useless in his lap even though Euijoo handed him his own spoon. Some days it's hard to predict what he wants, Maki thinks to himself, and he understands that some days Euijoo has to put in the extra effort because underneath all his fussing, Maki rarely knows what he wants. Today, he had eyed Euijoo's first spoonful of kimchi fried rice — big eyes following it pointedly until Euijoo felt his gaze. Most of their best communication is done in silence it seems, because it took Euijoo less than five seconds to figure him out.

Maybe once or twice, Maki had asked Euijoo if he ever got tired of it — the feeding, the dependence and the borderline uselessness he's sure he exhibits sometimes.

"It makes me happy," Euijoo had simply replied, earnest in the way he said it, leaving no room for doubt.

Maki then had asked to do the dishes. Asked, because Euijoo rarely allows him to do anything at all unless he asks. So, Maki had hunched over the sink, Euijoo plastered to his back, and it's small moments of reprieve like these that remind him how loved he is, and how much he's missed. Euijoo's not particularly good at saying it, straightforward as he is at times, but he never fails to show it, never wastes a moment to leave Maki to wonder about it.

Good boy, Euijoos whispers into the plane of his shoulder. My baby's so considerate.

It's familiar territory, because Euijoo needs him as much as Maki needs him, and Euijoo's dominance has never been about control even right from the start. It has always been more about serving, and taking care of, and being useful in the same way Maki wants to be to Euijoo. His boyfriend does small, heartwrenching things, and makes small, heartwrenching sounds — to get Maki all soft and slipping to the kind of tender spot that gets him all mushy.

So handsome, my big strong puppy.

Euijoo's hair in his hands.

You're the prettiest thing I have ever seen.

While Maki's sprawled on him on the couch, back to Euijoo's chest, while Euijoo rubs his hands over his tummy tenderly, making him all drowsy and drooly. Maki loves belly rubs. It makes him all squirmy and ticklish but Euijoo gets awful about it — warms hands always lingering, careful nonetheless even as he says, so smooth puppy, like he didn't shave Maki's happy trail himself.

My hardworking boy, always so sincere.

Until Maki's cheeks heat up; Euijoo's cold one pressed up right into the squish of his left one, rubbing against it like he cannot bear to not do it.

You're so pretty. So cute. I have to eat you.

Until Maki has bite marks on his biceps and forearms, until Euijoo tugs gently on his earlobes with his teeth, until Maki turns so red and so giggly he has to fight to push Euijoo off to breathe. Maki handles praise well. And by that, he means, he turns mushy, and tender, and his chest aches like never before, and it feels like his heart has been squashed into distinct pulps.

And being in love is weird, because Maki ends up thinking about letting Euijoo consume him in the non-cannibalistic way. If he could inhales parts of him like vapor, and Maki could settle into his airways and then the chambers in his lungs, and then he could settle there like tar or something equally poisonous. Maki would be heavy inside Euijoo, a constant reminder that there's something living inside him that loves, regardless of all else. And everything else of the contrary… Maki thinks he'd at least have to think about it.

⟢

For spring break, Maki ends up declining his annual trip with his friends. Taki's not too thrilled about his rejection, and Harua makes it known pretty well how much he disapproves in the groupchat — colourful profanity and a combination of emojis that Maki feels warrants an applause of sorts. Jo is perfect as always, sending a polite little ok enjoy your break! with a smiley face emoji attached. Yuma is the only one who's even moderately understanding, except his reasoning is a little weird.

Yuma

do u guys not remember how awful he was last year

just stay home

I'm being dead serious

we had to cut the trip short bcs of u

STAY HOME

Plenty supportive, Maki thinks, especially coming from Yuma.

He cannot really blame him though, because last year, he had spent the entire week-long trip moping; missing Euijoo, and sulking when Euijoo would text back can't talk right now sorry. Because when Maki said yes to the trip, he forgot to factor in the fact that him being on spring break didn't automatically mean Euijoo would be off work, too. So, he had sulked, and ended up being a party pooper during most of the itinerary, and when he did get drunk he cried so hard that the others had to spray him down with cold water in the hotel bathtub to get him back to his senses.

All in all, it wasn't a bad trip. His friends weren't really too upset either. But it's not something Maki would voluntarity submit them to again either.

So, this year, Euijoo had planned a small weekend getaway for them. Something to burn energy, but would not be so exhausting that Euijoo wouldn't be able to get back to work on Monday. They're going camping, to a nearby site that's pretty famous for the location plus added accomodations. Except, Maki doesn't realize his friends had invited themselves into the plan. And when they had all shown up on Saturday morning with their bags packed, he hadn't been too thrilled about it.

"Our flight leaves on Tuesday," Taki had simply said, snuggling close to Maki in the van Euijoo had rented.

Harua called shotgun. Maki's not very pleased about that either. The hour long drive makes him more broody, because Yuma has the aux, and he can't even see Euijoo through the rearview mirror. He loves his friends, sure, but not this much.

When they arrive, Euijoo pulls him to the side to whisper, "Are you not happy about the surprise?"

The genuine worry in his voice has Maki halting.

"No, it's great!" he tries to make it sound convincing, because really, he doesn't hate it. Euijoo's always so considerate, so sweet, that it would be criminal to not like anything he does for him, truly. But Euijoo also loves honesty, and expects it from Maki the most, so when he meets his curious, almost downturned gaze, Maki cracks.

"It's just… I thought it was going to be just us. That's all. It's really not a big deal, hyung."

"Oh." Euijoo's smile flatlines. "I just thought you'd want to spend some time with your friends." It's terribly endearing — the way Euijoo blinks like he's still trying to process it all, eyes a little dazed as he stares at the ground.

Maki leans forward to peck him.

"I get it, hyung. It's really sweet. Thank you."

It turns out Yuma's one condition for the camping trip was that Euijoo had to tag along, or he wasn't coming. They had a whole groupchat without Maki it seems, because everyone in the friendgroup sucks with surprises, and Taki almost let it slip to Maki like twice, or so Harua says. It's funny because Maki had absolutely no idea.

The only downside to the entire set-up is that Euijoo is nice. He's patient, and kind, and attentive, and Maki's friends always seem to conveniently forget that their friend can be criminally territorial; because they get clingy around Euijoo inevitably, much to Maki's chagrin. And honestly speaking, Maki doesn't think he's that bad about it, but during the campfire that he asked for, he's not the one cuddled up to Euijoo. Okay, slight misinformation, because he's not the only one cuddled up to Euijoo, and Maki scowls the entire time at a very sleepy Jo who doesn't realize what he's doing at all.

Jo's one of the switches, leaning heavier on submission at times, and it's only natural that he levitates towards Euijoo very subtly. He's cute about it though, and respectful too. It's just that Maki's very bad at sharing. He remains silent for the rest of the night, weirdly pouty, but joining in when his friends laugh so as to not spoil the mood.

Euijoo ends up confronting him about it at bedtime, though.

They're split into groups of two across three tents, and Maki barely gets to crawl over the length of Euijoo's body before Euijoo grabs him by the neck — a headlock that makes Maki giggle because in the split second it takes him to settle, Euijoo kisses the top of his head.

"You were very naughty tonight, do you know that?"

Maki nods against him, knowing full well where this was going.

"Don't look so proud of yourself!"

But Euijoo's laughing, whole body shaking and vibrating at every point of contact, and Maki would do it again a hundred times over.

"I don't like sharing," he whines lowly, lips jutting out into a soft pout.

Euijoo kisses the tip of his nose.

"Well, you're not sharing. And Jo is so sweet, and he was so hesitant to warm up to me." He berates gently. "I also want your friends to like me, you know."

"They already like you plenty. I don't need them to like you any more than they already do."

Maki's petulance is nothing new. It's the biggest constant about him. And Euijoo's amused laughter only worsens the bubbling feeling of jealousy inside him.

"You're my mommy," he whispers, feeling a bit indignant, a pulsing ache in his chest at the admittance. Because Euijoo could have had anyone. He's so, so beautiful, and so kind, and anyone would have taken his place eagerly if given the chance. Maki just lucked out, because he's really not like Euijoo. He doesn't really click with people as easily. He's needy and messy, with the type of clinginess that gives most people a headache, and that's probably why he never really settled into a real, adult relationship before Euijoo. Because he's difficult, and people don't usually like difficult.

"I love being your mommy, puppy." Maki peers up at him through his lashes, to sieve through Euijoo's expression for any hesitance; he finds none. "But they're your friends, and I want to get closer to them too, because I want to stick around you for a long time."

"I can't help it," Maki insists, sagging against Euijoo, cheek squished against his chest. In the distance he sees what he thinks is light coming from Harua and Jo's tent. He knows his friends are only being playful, that they don't mean any harm at all. But still, love is a really odd thing, because if Maki could help it, he would keep Euijoo away from the entire world. If he could help it, it would be just him and Euijoo and no one else ever again. "I just like you so much."

Euijoo coos as he gives him a tight squeeze. "Okay, fine," he yields, as he always does. He's not very good at scolding Maki, and Maki has the crippling tendency to weaponize this to his best interest. "But no more glaring. Especially not at Jojo."

Maki grumbles quietly, contemplating the proposition.

"Why are you giving him nicknames?"

Euijoo taps his nose in lieu of scolding. "You call him Jojo."

"Doesn't mean you need to do it, too."

There's a sigh — a heavy, long one, before Euijoo says, "Fine. Jo-kun then."

"Jo-ssi."

"You have five minutes to correct this behaviour before I send you to sleep with your friends, mister."

Maki gulps loudly. He'd gotten too comfortable, bantering familiar to the point that he forgot that Euijoo would not care to discipline him in front of his friends. Deep down, Maki doesn't truly care. But Yuma and Harua are particularly evil, and he cannot trust them not to stash whatever happens as future ammo.

"Sorry, mommy." Maki whines, worry palpable in his voice. "Puppy's sorry."

"That's what I thought."

And being in love is weird, because as cautious as he was, he still lets Euijoo go down on him when they're sure the others have gone to sleep. He doesn't know what it is about the open air and being surrounded by nature that makes his boyfriend so horny, but Maki would do it again, a hundred percent. Lights off, quiet as a mouse, with Euijoo's t-shirt stuffed into his mouth; Maki almost hyperventilates when he comes.

A minute later when Yuma passes by their tent to take a piss maybe, he shouts a loud, "You guys better not be fucking in there!"

Euijoo, deliberate and evil, spits his cum back onto his cockhead to make Maki lose control — a soft moan, closer to a whimper than anything, resonates from the back of his throat.

"Maki, I'm serious!"

"Fuck off!"

Except, it comes out all whiny, and Euijoo, who usually has the self restraint of a saint, laughs out loud at that.

⟢

The late-winter early-spring wedding season brings in invitation after invitation, all carefully folded back into their pristine presentations, sitting under a cloud-shaped paper weight in their living room. Only one comes for Maki, the rest are all adressed to Byun Euijoo and Guest.

When Euijoo's college roommate gets married, Maki finds himself two hours away from home, on a hillside venue that looks equal parts magical and equal parts a biohazard with how overly decorated it is. The entire wedding ceremony, Euijoo holds Maki's hand, until they grow clammy and uncomfortable. Still, Euijoo holds him even then, and even when they get to the reception part. Maki doesn't know any of the people on their table.

When Maki gets fussy, when he shifts and huffs quietly from all the sitting, Euijoo looks over to him immediately. And he knows the look in his eyes — Euijoo always offers him an out. But Maki's brave, and he's patient because he learnt how to be from the best, and Euijoo's having too much fun catching up with old peers that Maki's having fun by proxy. It's a side of him that he rarely gets to see. And it's enough knowing that the moment Maki expresses any sort of discomfort, if his mouth ever utters the words home and we and please, Euijoo would walk them out of there no questions asked.

At dinner, Euijoo lets him loiter around while he fixes them both a plate. It's an odd mix of a little too much of everything, and Maki knows people are eyeing Euijoo's plate with curiousity as well as slight judgment. But Euijoo at least doesn't seem to care; he never really does.

They return to their seats only to be handed a really odd question.

"Is he always this dependent?"

Spoken over Maki, like he wasn't worth acknowledging.

It's a different guest, one that clearly only came to say hi to one of Euijoo's friends. Maki tries to control his face, keyword being tries.

"Are you always this impolite?"

Rarely does Euijoo get this snappy. Maki tries not to giggle as his boyfriend huffs quietly before turning to him, face brimming with annoyance even as he slips a hanky into the center of Maki's collar. "Just in case," Euijoo says before he can ask. They both know Maki won't spill, and that Euijoo wouldn't scold him even if he did. It's more for show than anything else.

"You do realize you're spoiling him rotten?"

God, does he ever shut up?

Maki fights the urge to scowl lest he ends up scowling directly into Euijoo's face.

"I know," Euijoo says simply, bumping the tip of Maki's nose with a smile. "He's mine to spoil rotten."

There's soft hoots and hollers, a cacophonous emergence of sorts as the table breaks up; the offender getting escorted back to where he should be. Maki tries to keep track of it through his peripheral vision, but Euijoo's extremely distracting when he's smiling in your face it seems.

"You're so strict about him, Euijoo," someone says from the side. Maki thinks it's the coworker from Euijoo's previous workplace.

Euijoo turns to them briefly, "I have to be." Then, he's scooping up one big heap of rice with what Maki thinks is galbi, lifting it to his mouth as he says, "I mean, have you seen him?"

Maki almost chokes around the spoon.

There's murmurs that mortify him, a little too loud that he almost feels it spoken to his ear: he's handsome alright, pretty little thing, where did you find him, is he always this obedient. Maki cannot help the way his chest puffs up slowly, making Euijoo laugh, even though they're the only ones who truly understand why.

Then, there's a curious voice, one of Euijoo's hoobaes, Maki believes, who leans down just enough to Maki's face level without intruding. "Do you always feed him?" It's an innocent question, posed just as simply.

Euijoo thinks for a moment. "Most of the time, I prefer to do it, yeah. My puppy gets a bit distracted when eating…" he says, lifting another spoonful of food to Maki's lips, which part and close around the spoon obediently. "But he has to grow big and strong, so I have to make sure he eats well."

He never lets Maki forget it either — how much he loves the subtle differences in their frame and build, how much he loves if when Maki lifts him off his feet easily when he gets a bit too excited. It's probably apparent to everyone else by now, seeing that Euijoo has spent the better half of the day groping him wherever he can reach — arms, chest, thighs. Everything to make Maki swoon and blush so high in his cheeks that it bleeds to his ears.

"You guys are so cute."

With that, the stranger leaves them be.

After dinner, Euijoo lifts the hanky from Maki's collar and wipes his face down gently, tuts so messy even though he's grinning so widely.

"Should we head home early?"

It's less of a suggestion than it appears to be, because Euijoo gets more antsy than Maki at times, especially after a long event.

"I kind of just want to wind down and cuddle."

Maki nods enthusiastically, treating Euijoo's statement like a promise. They head to the toilet first, where they run into the groom that seems all too friendly with Euijoo.

"I'm so glad you could make it," he hears the man say as Maki heads into a stall to do his business. Euijoo stays pressed to his door, and Maki keeps looking back under it to glance at Euijoo's shoes as if to check that he's still there.

"I can't believe the Byun Euijoo I used to know is finally settling down."

"You make me sound awful."

"That's not what I meant, I swear! I just thought you'd give it some time, you know. Given your track record."

Maki knows what they're talking about. It's not like Euijoo has ever hidden anything from him. Before they met, Euijoo hadn't really dated. He had flings, and experiments, and he broke more hearts than they broke his. Maki doesn't know why he's the outlier, but at most, he's grateful for it.

"Yeah, well, Maki's perfect."

It's a statement that doesn't need elaboration; the kind of finality that is so Byun Euijoo that Maki smiles to himself in his spot. For a moment, he just leans against the door to calm his own heartbeat.

"So, when's the wedding?"

There's laughter that erupts at that — soft and melodious.

"Soon."

Maki can't tell if he's joking or not.

"Why? Are you hoping to be my best man?"

"Get out of here. You probably have a really long line for that."

Euijoo's knocking on the door softly. A sign for are you done yet that makes Maki unlock the door swiftly.

"You'll be the first one I call, then," Euijoo promises, before he's linking an arm into the crook of Maki's elbow. "Sorry I can't stay longer, though. I'm having puppy withdrawals."

A gasp dies in Maki's throat. Euijoo's never this blatant with his words.

The other man nods, briefly hugging Euijoo. "It's so great to see you, really. Take care."

Euijoo mumbles a rather dismissively congratulations again! before he's whisking Maki out of there like he's being chased.

The taxi ride home is a testament to Maki's self-control, as well as to the driver's professionalism. Because Euijoo spends the entire journey licking into Maki's ear and kissing up and down his neck, whispering all sorts of filth, to the point that Maki's throbbing in his pants by the time they get home.

They barely step into the apartment before Euijoo's pouncing on him. Maki takes it all in with a sizzling feeling of pride. "We're never going out again," he whispers in between kisses. Maki just nods along because he has no idea what brought this on.

"You didn't see the way they all looked at you. Like a fresh piece of meat. God, I wanted to stick a fork into all of their eyes."

Maki lets out a soft gasp, swallowed immediately by a frantic Euijoo licking into his mouth. Something inside him clenches at the enthusiasm. Euijoo doesn't let him breathe even as the ascend the stairs, footsteps a mess, and Maki spends most of it stumbling. The bedroom door slams open. Euijoo pushes him onto the bed.

"Mine," he says, palming over Maki's boner through his pants.

It doesn't take too long before Euijoo has him stripped bare, body hanging off of the bed awkwardly because when Euijoo's on a roll, he cannot be deterred. Maki just lets himself be used. And by used, in the instance, means letting Euijoo ride him to the best orgasm he's had in weeks, until he's crying and throwing both arms onto his face. Euijoo gets mean when he's jealous.

"Why do you have to look so stupidly hot in a suit?"

Euijoo whines, still rutting his hips, clearly not done with him yet.

"Fuck, I'm going to have to lock you up now. I hate when other people look at you."

It's not true. Euijoo loves to show him off. Maki wants to remind him, hands falling to his sides as he chances a glance at the man above him. Except, all the words die in his throat; Euijoo always looks captivating like this. Glowing with sweat, a little out of breath, and otherwise soft features sharpening so slightly in his anger. Maki swallows thickly, trying not to think about the abuse to his slowly softening cock still lodged inside Euijoo.

"Don't look so excited, puppy," he scolds, grabbing Maki's cheeks harshly. "You probably liked the attention. Liked the fact that everyone was drooling over you."

Maki chokes, feeling devastated at the accusation. He shakes his head, movement limited by Euijoo's strong grip as he insists, "I only looked at mommy." In the softest voice, a little broken from how teary he gets, smallest traces of something close to fear lingering at the tail ends of it.

There's a moment where Euijoo stills, and his grip falters. And he's staring at Maki straight in the eyes, lids fluttering as tears pool on his waterline. "God." It comes out like an escaped breath. Fresh hot tears cascading. Maki frowns. "Of course you did. You're my good boy." He lets go of Maki's cheeks, to run the back of his hand down the side of his face. "One day, it's going to be you and me up on that podium. You can't get sick of mommy, okay? I want to spend way, way more time with you."

There used to be a time when Maki used to think Euijoo was invincible. He's eloquent, well-adjusted, and his dominant nature tends to hide a lot of his less-than-confident behaviours. Maki sees through it all now, though, because every once in a blue moon Euijoo feels the gap between them — both in years and experiences. Except, he feels it backwards, because he always seems to decide that Maki has something better waiting for him, something more in the face of it all. Worries that Maki might get bored, worried that they're not that well-matched after all.

Maki doesn't really know how dominants' brains are wired, couldn't picture being in their shoes if he tried. But he imagines it's equally punishing, because sex and scening is the easy part. To be human on top of all of it, is the challenge, because how do you take care of someone — mind, body and soul — and not lose parts of yourself? Euijoo has it worse, in Maki's humble observation, because apart from the settling and the intimacy, he's built to serve in a way that's almost similar to submissives. He bleeds through the cracks and yet he doesn't allow himself any sort of mercy.

He's impossible to reassure, too. Maki has tried. He read something about it once — internal locus of control and the likes. Very fitting of Euijoo. So, he has to pack up his affirmations into little pretty unassuming sentences, that convey how he feels but to make them end up sounding like requests.

"Forever?" Maki says, beaming.

Euijoo pinches his cheek gently.

"Okay. Forever, then. Because you asked so nicely."

And also because he asked so nicely, Euijoo lets him pull out his spent cock with an almost secretive grin, like he enjoys making Maki suffer a teeny tiny bit. He's less mean with Maki in between his legs, face pressed to his ass as he eats his own cum out of Euijoo's hole — a treat saved for rare occasions, because Euijoo's usually too sensitive for rimming. This time, too, he's crying as he comes, legs shaking and threatening to close around Maki's head.

And being in love is indeed a bit weird; a cognitive rewiring of the gravest kind, because Maki thinks if his boyfriend ends up popping his head like a watermelon, that's a really good way to go out.

⟢

For Maki's birthday, Euijoo books a summer house. Or at least it used to be, before it got converted into a homestay.

It's extravagant and over the top, and it falls right in the middle of the week, so Maki cannot help but feel bad that Euijoo steals a leave just for the day. When he asked why, all Euijoo said was, "It's my babybear's special day. Of course it has to be the best."

It's nothing out of the ordinary, because last year, Euijoo had taken him on a trip back home to Tokyo. He has a knack for splurging when it comes to Maki; his pretty embossed and customized collars are statement enough. Nonetheless, they keep the party tight-knit, and simple — Maki spends the whole day in subspace, kneeling and crawling over the entire surface of the place just like he wanted to. Euijoo pulls him out of it gently in the evening, a few hours before his actual birthday starts.

Maki walks out of the bedroom in mismatched socks because Euijoo was too busy checking on the catering. When his boyfriend spots him, he gets whisked back in to change. The buzz persists, even though Maki insists to Euijoo that he's fine. He's at a perfectly lukewarm state, content with just shadowing Euijoo the entire night. But Euijoo ends up really entertaining the guests, polite and sociable, leaving Maki mostly unattended for the first hour when guests start piling in.

When Euijoo doesn't fix him his dinner plate, Maki gets a bit grumpy. He grabs a handful of everything, not really thinking about what is what, and just making sure his plate is as messy and as full as it can get.

And when Euijoo leaves him on a table alone with his friends, Maki gets really grumpy. And sulky. So, he scarves down food, like it's testament that he's been abandoned.

"Slow down, Maki," an uneasy Harua says from his side.

Maki doesn't really care. He's chosen to abandon his disposable chopsticks and choosing to instead eat with his hand, a part of him secretly hoping he'll get reprimanded for it. "It's my birthday. I can do whatever I want." And when Harua tries to call Euijoo over, concern apparent in his features, Maki throws a stuffed pepper in his face.

"Riki!"

Maki freezes with the next pepper in his hand.

Euijoo seems equally shocked at that fact that he's accidentally yelled. He apologizes to the people next to him, before he gets up in a flash.

"That's not very nice," he says, speed-walking to their table. Then, he's wringing the pepper out of Maki's petulant hands, stubborn as he squashes it. "We don't throw food," he scolds, voice flat and foreign to Maki's ears.

And god, Maki's eyes well up with tears instantly, lips wobbling, not daring to look at Euijoo for even a second. His name isn't Riki, at least not to Euijoo. That's just on paper. To his mommy, he's puppy. He's baby. He's Makibear, and all things soft. He's never been Riki. In fact, there's a part of him that wishes Taki was here and not on a trip, just so he could pretend Euijoo's talking about him instead. Maki feels absolutely crushed because he knows he was naughty. He wasn't nice. That doesn't mean mommy should be not-nice to him, too. It's his birthday. Why wasn't mommy being nice to him?

"I'll give you ten minutes to finish everything on your plate, and then I'm taking you to the bedroom."

He hates how cold Euijoo can be sometimes. That kind of slipped his mind, because it's been so long since he's seen this side of Euijoo at all.

"Don't wanna," he whines, low and shaky. He's eaten everything but the stuffed peppers. He hates stuffed peppers. Maki was planning to throw them all away while Euijoo was not looking.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Maki."

Maki whimpers as he lets the tears fall, eyes screwed shut because it genuinely makes him want to pretend the moment isn't real. His birthday was not supposed to go like this.

"You can cry all you want, but you still have to finish it. And wipe your hands, you're all messy. Good boys use chopsticks, not their dirty hands."

In his panic, Maki wipes his hands down on his pants. Euijoo tuts sharply, making him flinch. And it's only then that Euijoo sits down next to him, no longer hovering in his periphery. "Come here, messy boy," he beckons, and Maki can't even look at him when Euijoo takes both his hands and wipes it down with the hanky he knows is kept in his back pocket just for him. "Now eat."

In all honesty, Maki does try. Except he's shaking so much that he keeps dropping his chopsticks, and then the peppers. There's only three of it left. He ends up working himself up so much that he physically cannot hold the chopsticks anymore, so he just cries — dry-heaving silently because Euijoo's still watching him from the side with his arms crossed. His friends have all scattered to make room, clearly sensing the disciplining that was about to happen. Maki closes his eyes again, trying to will the moment away. For a split second, he wants to safeword, even though he knows with his heart that he's the one who messed up. He cannot take it when Euijoo gets all strict and scary.

But then, he feels something pressed to his lips, and Maki sputters softly as he opens his eyes back up, and sure enough Euijoo's holding his chopsticks, along with one evil stuffed pepper right in front of him. When he spares a cautious glance at his boyfriend, Euijoo doesn't seem all that angry. In fact, he looks less angry than Maki imagined — with an eyebrow cocked and one more small press against his lips. Maki's mouth falls open almost instinctually.

It takes seven bites to finish all three, and Maki chokes just three times.

No one really bats an eye when Euijoo drags him through the crowd after, all smiles and polite excuses of let me just clean him up a bit. He still has to cut his cake. People are only halfway done with dinner. Maki doesn't know why the bedroom feels so much largers and so much colder when Euijoo locks them in it.

He lets go of Maki briefly to sit down at the edge of the bed, patting his thighs before he says, "Over my lap, puppy."

It's the first time Euijoo's called him that all night. Maki sobs against the door, and even as he stumbles his way to his boyfriend when Euijoo tuts at him impatiently.

One to ten. Five sets unless he misses a number.

Euijoo's hands are unforgiving on his bare bottom. Maki hates that his pants have been stripped completely, because Euijoo rarely spanks him, and when he does he just pulls his pants down a bit. Not like this. Because he knows Maki hates it when they do it this way. It feels a bit like losing control, and he always feels too exposed.

Fifty spanks.

But Maki always misses a number.

By the time they're done, his entire body sags lifelessly, gaze distant and breathing shallow.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Euijoo whispers against his nape, leaving soft kisses that soothe his burning skin.

Maki wants to nod. He wants to say it's okay he deserved it, but nothing comes out.

"My sweet, sweet boy," Euijoo rubs over the heated flesh of his butt. "I know you want my attention all the time, but sometimes you forget to just ask. You don't have to act out at all."

Maki garbles something incoherent, because he wants to say he didn't mean to, it just happened. Euijoo turns him around gently to dab away his tear tracks.

"But it's okay. Sometimes my puppy is just a little too dumb to remember things. It's okay, because mommy's got you."

Maybe mommy knows best it seems, because the anxiety in his pits would not have subsided so easily if Euijoo had not settled him this way. He would have grown antsier, and he would have continued acting out in subtle ways for the rest of the night too. Mommy knows him better than he knows himself, and that's already so much more than Maki could ask for.

"T-thank you, mommy."

Whispered, dissolving so softly into the air between them. Maybe it will reach Euijoo's lungs in his next intake of oxygen.

The party proceeds with a still spacey Maki trying to get through every instruction Euijoo whispers into his ears to help. When they look back on the pictures later, Maki's going to look extremely stupid in all of them. Not that it matters. It's just a funny thought Euijoo has.

"You didn't kiss me all night," is the first thing Maki says when they step back into their room for the night. It's kind of a long drive back home, and their friends — after the clean up sesh that they spent mostly finishing the food and the leftover alchohol — have taken the spare bedrooms down the hall.

It's well past midnight now. Still, Euijoo sighs into a smile before beckoning him over; says, "Happy birthday, baby," right into a kiss. The kind that melts your brain and your toes curl in your socks.

"Do you want to choose your jammies?" Euijoo says after they break away, pulling the overnight bag out from under the bed.

"Want mommy to choose," Maki says, squatting down to help Euijoo to open it.

"I had a feeling you would say that." Euijoo's soft laughter is the best thing Maki's heard all day. "The blue one then?"

Except, he's already laying it flat on the bed, smoothing out the edges even though the fabric — expensive as it is — doesn't really wrinkle all that much.

"Bathtime for my dirty puppy," he says excitedly before he's pulling Maki towards the conjoined bathroom, locking the other entrance immediately. Maki doesn't really deem it necessary because the others drank way too much for any of them to be awake. He and Euijoo don't drink. Unless, they're at a social event where it's inevitable. It's one of Euijoo's personal rules that Maki has no qualms following. Not to mention, they both don't enjoy the taste of alcohol all that much either.

Euijoo fixes them a bubble bath. And with Euijoo's long legs barricading him in the tub, back to Euijoo's chest, Maki feels the smallest he's ever felt.

"Did my puppy have a good birthday?"

Maki hates how quickly he picks up on the subtle hint of fear in Euijoo's voice. A year ago he wouldn't have noticed. But now it's ringing in his ears, and the thought of Euijoo staring sadly at the back of his head doesn't sit right with him. So, he turns around, the water sloshing wildly as he twists his back in angles he's not sure he's supposed to go.

"The best," he beams, arms linking around Euijoo's neck with much difficulty. "I have the best mommy in the world. It was perfect."

Euijoo's shoulder sags in relief. Maki kisses him all chaste and gentle.

He also hates how he can feel the tension leaving Euijoo's body as the older man brushes his teeth for him — blue sparkly toothpaste that Maki picked out sitting on the countertop. Maki's not allowed to move, so his eyes wander instead — to the flutter of Euijoo's lashes, the bite of his teeth on his lips, carefully pulled into a smile occasionally as if he was slowly unraveling. Mommy was nervous, Maki realizes, much more nervous than I was. And if it means he could help Euijoo unwind a bit, Maki would have let him spank him ten thousand times more. Maybe a million, too, if Euijoo asks.

Except when Euijoo taps on his bare bottom to signal him to spit in the sink, Maki winces. Okay, maybe not a million.

Euijoo laughs, slowly realizing what happened. "I'll put some salve on it later," he promises. "My puppy's so sensitive everywhere." Maki jumps a bit when Euijoo pinches his asscheek. And sometimes, it's his mommy who gets a bit naughty, because when Maki bends down to rinse his mouth in the tap, Euijoo crouches to bite him right where his thigh meets his ass. Then, he jiggles both cheeks as if that wasn't enough.

Maki grumbles lowly; more of a pitiful sound than it is a complaint.

"Stop whining or I'll bite you again."

Maki swallows around the lump of indignation, covering his ass with both hands as he crab walks out of the bathroom while Euijoo cackles at him from where he's still squatting by the sink. It's not very funny, but he cannot risk being bitten again, because mommy bites hard. Especially when he thinks Maki's cute, and he stares at him like he could eat him, and he ends up biting like he's trying to eat him.

There's something Euijoo says as he's buttoning up Maki's pyjama shirt. "I love loving you," spoken so softly, almost like it's sacred.

Maybe Maki's done it all wrong, thought of it all wonky and lopsided. Love is less weird when it's something that happens to him, when Euijoo does it to him; with soft touches, and soft carefully crafted words that feel like they could stick to his skin. Maybe it doesn't need to be a testament of how much he can give of himself to Euijoo, because Euijoo will always meet him halfway.

Being in love is the best thing in the world because he gets to do it with Euijoo — split right down the middle, in equal halves, no room for greed.