Work Text:
Jihoon knew it the moment he opened his eyes: (1) the sky would still be dark if he opened his curtain; (2) he had sex last night.
The first fact was nothing out of the ordinary. There’s not a day when Jihoon didn’t wake up at the beginning of the rabbit hours. He would get fully dressed and ready for work by the time the solar gnomon casts its first shadow of the day. This applied even after a night of insobriety.
Among his small group of friends, Jihoon was quite the drinker. He gobbled up more cups of liquor than Wonwoo could manage. And he certainly fared better than Soonyoung, who would start protesting against the unfairness of Jihoon’s alcohol tolerance once he’s drunk, but not let out a single whine about Junhui who could handle double of Jihoon’s limit.
Jihoon had always thought of this ability as convenient. Once in a while he had to force himself to attend banquets held by fellow officials of Buwana Tentrem Kingdom or other respected members of the society. Despite the awkwardness he had to suffer, he preferred to stay sober so he could work his brain and bid the right time to bolt out of the scene.
However this morning he found himself wishing he had been drunk to the point of losing his memory. He didn’t want to wake up with details of last night pouring into his consciousness, not fully detailed as time had done its job to dim the memory, but vivid enough for his cheeks to heat up despite the cold morning air.
His bed and room were no messier than any other mornings, which meant that it had been cleaned of last night’s deed. He could’ve pretended that it never happened. But if he looked into his cabinet and checked his jar of carrageenan, he would definitely find the lubricant amounted less than what he had possessed. And his naked skin couldn’t deny the lingering sensation even when there were barely any kiss or finger marks left behind. A voice from his past self popped up into his head: Don’t leave any marks. It sounded whiny; he thought of burying his head to the pillow so he could scream at his shameless self.
Two knocks resounding from the bedroom door yanked Jihoon out of his jumbled thoughts of denial and regret. He’s not sure whether to feel relief or nervous at the familiar voice that followed.
“Jihoon, may I?”
When Jihoon expressed his approval to the man behind the door, he couldn’t comment about how the latter had called his given name instead of Prime Minister Lee. They had crossed the line between the top official in the Ministry of Public Works and the soldier from the kingdom’s elite Bhayangkara troop, and it was Jihoon who broke that line in the first place.
The door opened to make way for Hong Jisoo. The soldier had his uniform on and a small blade slipped into his belt, but was free from his other gears. After closing the door behind him soundlessly, Jisoo took three steps forward and stopped. His brown eyes weren’t glassy nor bloodshot, there were no eye bags underneath, no stiffness in his curved lips, and his posture was upright but relaxed.
“Pardon me for disturbing you so early in the morning,” Jisoo said. “Last night you said you wanted to review some documents before leaving. I figured I’d help to make sure you get enough time.”
The word ‘last night’ left Jisoo’s lips without a stutter or change in pitch. It forced Jihoon’s brain to zoom in on the sensation of his naked skin under the blanket; he instinctively curled up his legs. Even so he stubbornly kept his gaze connected with Jisoo’s eyes. If Jisoo could stay unperturbed by the situation, then so could he.
“I thought your job description was to protect the prime minister during the visit to Sasak Province.” Jihoon tried to mimic Jisoo’s relaxed smile and found himself failing through the stiff muscles around his lips.
“Indeed, that is my job once you enter the carriage, the whole two days there, until you come back safely to the capital.”
Jihoon thought he saw Jisoo winking with his left eye, but the unexpectedness of it made him doubt himself.
“But until then, I’m not your bodyguard soldier, aren’t I?”
This time Jihoon knew he wasn’t imagining things and Jisoo was actually grinning at him, a teasing glint in those obnoxiously beautiful eyes. That’s when he heaved a loud sigh and let his shoulders fall. He should stop being so stubborn and accept the irrefutable fact: they were no longer the prime minister and Bhayangkara soldier, not this morning. The realization filled Jihoon’s chest with a tingling warmth of hope and relief.
Jihoon wasn’t ready to reveal his heart to Jisoo yet, but he’s not sure he could hide it from his face. Lee Jihoon was not as skilled as Prime Minister Lee in keeping up a poker face. So he told Jisoo to wait outside, making an excuse of wanting to change his clothes and get ready. When Jisoo replied with a cheeky “It’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen yet,” Jihoon determined it wasn’t abuse of power to throw a pillow straight to Jisoo’s face and executed his judgement.
***
“General Irie, may I borrow Major Hong for a moment? I need to double check the patrol route with him.”
Jihoon was slightly surprised that the general approved Jihoon’s request without a single question. Also that the other officials in the meeting room didn’t tell him to put off the checking until the next morning. He wasn’t going to question it and be ungrateful, though. It was a nice change of pace.
Recently Jihoon had been showered with consolation gazes and the usual bromides from every one he encountered. His close friendship with Wen Junhui was common knowledge, so when Junhui was reported to be one of the soldiers killed during a mission, many people tried to show their sympathy. His secretary suggested he take some days off, noting Jihoon’s evident weight loss and poor complexion. Jihoon responded to their concerns with simple “Thank you” and more hours spent at his office.
He thought it was what he needed. Working was a better use of his time; he wanted to help smooth things out for the search team assigned to look for possible survivors. It wouldn’t be possible if he neglected his main job.
And most of all, he didn’t want to spend time alone with thoughts like “Why did I vote for that mission?” “Could Junhui still be alive since we only found parts of his body?” “How can I apologize to Soonyoung, again?” “What if he’s really dead?”
But when he attended the cabinet meeting and saw Jisoo for the first time in 3 weeks after the soldier got assigned out of province, Jihoon thought he didn’t want to spend the night at his office. Something inside him had expanded into this sickening swell that clogged his chest. Aching for relief, he could barely stop himself from stealing glances at Jisoo during the meeting.
Jisoo seemed to notice his agony, not saying a word as they went through public halls and letting himself be led towards Jihoon’s residence instead of the Ministry of Public Works office.
Even when Jihoon pulled Jisoo into a rough kiss as soon as he locked the door of his bedroom, Jisoo didn’t protest. The taller man accepted his clumsy hands and overeager lips; a kindness that brought tears to the brim of his eyes. He wanted to touch Jisoo with pure longing as always, not like this. And yet the words of apology kept getting lost in his desperate kisses.
When they reached his bed, Jihoon finally stopped his hands. His right palm lay on top of Jisoo’s chest, trembling. Jisoo covered his hand and whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll help you forget tonight.” The words pushed Jihoon towards his lover’s face. Their lips reunited, damp and salty.