Chapter Text
By the time Jay and Jungwon’s shadows disappeared into the night, Sunghoon was three drinks past his limit, two pouts deep into drama, and one lean away from face-planting directly into the grill.
Riki stared at him. “Eat something.”
Sunghoon blinked slowly, glass in hand. “I’m fine, Nishimura.”
“You’ve had nothing but soju and air for dinner.”
“I had lettuce.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Sunghoon reached for the bottle again, unbothered.
Riki snatched it out of reach. “Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “Is this your idea of seduction?”
“Eat,” Riki deadpanned.
Sunghoon groaned and slumped back against the booth. “You sound like Jungwon.”
“And yet somehow, you’re still not listening.”
He picked up a piece of pork belly, wrapped it in lettuce, and held it out. Sunghoon made a face like it was poison.
“I’m not eating that,” he said, slightly pushing away Rikis hands, smug.
Riki gave him a long, unimpressed look. Then, without a word, he set the wrap down, reached over with one hand, and grabbed both of Sunghoon’s wrists.
“Hey—!”
Riki didn’t let go.
With the other hand, he brought the wrap back up to Sunghoon’s mouth. “Open.”
“You can’t just—!”
“Open.”
“I will scream.”
“Good. Maybe then you’ll inhale enough air to sober up.”
Sunghoon tried to jerk away, but Riki’s grip didn’t budge. “You’re insane.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And you’re a liability.”
Sunghoon pouted—full-lipped, dramatic, almost cartoonishly tragic. “Fine,” he muttered, opening his mouth reluctantly. “But I’m telling Jay. He’ll say this is emotional abuse.”
Riki didn’t blink. “Jay will give me a medal.”
Sunghoon chewed dramatically, like it offended him personally, and then washed it down with a sigh and a sip of water. He squinted at Riki. “Happy now?”
“No,” Riki said. “But you might be slightly less likely to die in the next hour.”
Sunghoon grumbled something that sounded like tyrant and hot, but annoying under his breath, but at least he was chewing.
Riki turned his attention to his own plate for a moment, eyes scanning the check.
Which was a mistake.
Because when he looked up again, the bottle of soju was suspiciously emptier.
Sunghoon grinned at him.
Riki stared. “You didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m charming.”
“You’re drunk.”
Sunghoon made a high-pitched whee! noise and stood up too quickly, wobbling.
Riki caught his elbow on reflex. “Sit back down. Jesus.”
Sunghoon frowned, "Who is Jesus? Are you cheating on me?"
Riki sighs, "We aren't dating."
Sunghoon hummed thoughtfully at that, "Oh right, we are still at stage 3. That comes at stage 17"
"Stages for what exactly" Riki replied rubbing his forehead.
“Dunno,” Sunghoon said brightly. “Time to goooo.”
“You can’t even walk straight.”
“I walk with style.”
“You walk like a baby giraffe.”
Sunghoon grinned. “You noticed.”
Riki let out a breath that sounded a lot like defeat.
Getting Sunghoon outside was one thing.
Getting him to walk in a straight line was another.
The boy was a symphony of flailing limbs and giggles, stumbling every three steps and clinging to Riki like he was a very annoyed jungle gym. His entire body weight leaned dramatically into Riki’s shoulder.
“You smell good,” Sunghoon slurred at one point. “Is that pine? No. Sage. No. Courtroom despair.”
“It’s patience,” Riki muttered, “dying in real time.”
Halfway down the street, Sunghoon suddenly stopped.
Then he sat.
In the middle of the road.
Riki turned around slowly. “What are you doing.”
“I’m resting.”
“You’re on the road.”
“It’s my road now.”
“Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon smiled sweetly. “I’m not moving unless you give me a piggyback ride.”
Riki stared at him for three full seconds. “You are not serious.”
Sunghoon laid back dramatically. “Tell my story.”
Riki looked up at the sky. “Why me.”
Sunghoon kicked his legs. “You like me.”
“I would like you better if you got out of traffic.”
A car honked distantly. Riki sighed, walked over, and crouched. “Get on.”
Sunghoon blinked. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really. Before you get flattened.”
Sunghoon let out a delighted squeal and scrambled onto Riki’s back, arms winding around his neck, legs barely steady. Riki stood up with a groan.
“You’re heavier than you look.”
“That’s muscle.”
“That’s ego.”
Sunghoon giggled into Riki’s shoulder, reaching down to squeeze Rikis biceps. “You’re strong. I like it.”
“Stop groping me and stop talking.”
“I think you could throw me across the courtroom and I’d still come out looking good.”
“Please stop talking.”
Sunghoon nuzzled into Riki’s hair. “Your neck smells expensive.”
“Sunghoon.”
“And edible.”
“Sunghoon.”
“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. “Joking. Kinda. Turn left.”
Riki followed the directions in grim silence, trying very hard not to notice the way Sunghoon’s hands kept shifting on his chest, or how his fingers brushed over the edge of Riki’s collar like they had no business being that soft.
“Hey,” Sunghoon whispered suddenly. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“No.”
“I’m gonna tell you anyway.”
“Of course you are.”
“You’re like really, really pretty.”
Riki’s ears went pink.
“I like your voice too,” Sunghoon added, cheek smushed against his shoulder now. “All cold and sharp and mean. But also nice. Underneath. Like a secret.”
Riki blinked once. Twice.
Then Sunghoon giggled again—and leaned in to press his lips just below Riki’s jaw.
A hot, lingering kiss.
Riki stopped walking.
“Did you just—”
Sunghoon sighed. “Mmm. Tastes like stress.”
Riki dropped him.
Sunghoon yelped and landed hard on his ass.
“OW! My precious ass!”
“You licked my neck!”
“I kissed it. God, you’re so dramatic.”
“You kissed my neck, you menace—”
“Would you prefer I bit it?”
“Absolutely not—!”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Sunghoon said, flopping onto his back on the sidewalk with zero shame. “Neck kisses are expensive.”
Riki ran both hands through his hair and seriously considered committing homicide.
“Get up,” he growled.
Sunghoon whined.
“I will carry you upside down.”
“That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”
Riki crouched, grabbed him by the wrist, and hauled him to his feet.
Sunghoon squeaked. “Fine, fine! I’ll walk!”
“You’ll crawl at this rate.”
“Some people find that sexy.”
“I am not one of them.”
"Liar"
---
They reached the apartment ten minutes later, after much bickering and even more threats of bodily harm. Sunghoon leaned against the door frame like a wilting flower.
“My keys,” he said, patting his chest. “Where are they—oh. Back pocket.”
Riki just looked at him.
Sunghoon smiled, evil and drowsy. “Looks like you’ll have to get them, Nishimura.”
Riki’s eye twitched. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I would never.”
“You’re the worst.”
“You want my ass. Just admit it.”
Riki sighed the sigh of a man who had endured too much and gained too little. He reached, carefully, and fished out the keys.
Sunghoon snorted. “Ohh—gentle hands, counselor.”
“Shut up.”
He unlocked the door, half-shoved Sunghoon inside, and maneuvered him onto the couch like handling a very loud, very flirty sack of potatoes.
Sunghoon sprawled out like royalty. “You’re so good at this. Have you done this before?”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
“Carried home drunk men with great asses? Probably.”
Riki stood, ready to leave.
“Wait.”
Riki paused.
Sunghoon tugged lightly at his sleeve.
Riki turned.
And then—
A big, warm, wet, messy kiss landed on Riki’s cheek.
Sunghoon beamed up at him, eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
Then he passed the hell out.
Riki stood frozen.
Completely still.
Then, silently, he crouched, made sure Sunghoon had a spare key on the hook, took the main one from the lock, and stepped out.
He locked the door behind him.
And if his fingers brushed the spot on his cheek on the way down the stairs…
Well.
That was his secret.
And Sunghoon would never know.