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Assistant: Title: Unbuttoned
        Author: kaffdelmar2008 kaffdelmar2008 
        Chapter: 1/6 
        Summary: Kim Hongjoong, a high-powered professional adept at burying his life in his work, unexpectedly meets Park Seonghwa one night, a mysterious tailor whose depth goes far beyond his striking appearance. Through Seonghwa's skilled guidance and masterful hands, Hongjoong begins to realise that life, much like a well-crafted suit, is about much more than achieving the perfect fit.----------------------------------------------------Seonghwa (T) x Hongjoong (B) - plus a switchNC-17+ - explicit content throughoutAU - Inspired by the wonderful events of PFW
        Contents: Chapter 1: Unbuttoned
    

    


      
        
          Hello. Welcome to the longest one-shot I've ever written. (well, at least what started as one)It's a real dive into self-exploration, submitting to new desires and coming to terms with what matters.As always, this is fiction, the names used here are not accurate representations of real life people. This is fantasy run wild.I had really itchy fingers and wanted to do some warming up before I begin to plan the follow-on to Highway to Hell. I just could not leave this idea alone. It has been well inspired by the boys' recent exploits in fashion and PFW. Feedback is welcome, let me know what you thought if you manage to get to the end. And no, I will not be continuing this. Because we all know what happened last time I couldn't leave a one-shot alone( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ***EDIT: I LIED
      
  

  
  
    
      The amber glow of the lights in the bar of the Aurora hotel cast such long shadows across all the polished wood. They danced along all the glittering, mirrored walls and around marbled pillars. They resembled dark fingers that delicately walked across the surfaces, teasing themselves onto people's faces and decorating their actions, though Hongjoong barely noticed them slipping over his fingers as they traced the rim of his whiskey gl@ss. He could already feel the weariness of the day long set into his bones.

It was such a pretty bar, representative, mind you, of the calibre of the hotel. The Aurora was one of the city's most prestigious establishments with a strong reputation to uphold. It was very apparent in the expensive décor that dominated the place; gold baroque littered the ceiling above heavy tables that were adorned with expensive candles, leather bound menus and plush red chairs.

Even the bartender, Hongjoong had noted earlier, was dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat so crisp that they seemed as unmovable as his perfectly coiffured hair. He looked a d@mn sight more put together than he felt, Hongjoong mused, who had long since dragged the tie away from his neck and undone two, maybe three, of his shirt buttons. His suit jacket lay discarded over the back of his stool to allow his arms to breathe. Who cared if it ended up creased? No doubt his company would pay for some hotel laundering too if he needed it.

Despite how busy the place was, Hongjoong remained the only figure occupying the actual bar. It was fine, he didn't mind, preferring the solitude of being able to enjoy his evening alone rather than deal with anymore of the general public. A handful of waitresses kept the seated clientele happy enough so that they didn't need to engage with the small slice of peace that Hongjoong had found. Hopefully it would stay that way.

With a slight smile, he had watched the bartender work for a while in fascination, throwing c@cktail shakers and pouring spirits from height, before sinking his eyes into the bottom of his own gl@ss. He tried to engage his brain, but a dull ache was beginning to set in. Only one more day to go, thank f@ck.

It felt like minutes p@ssed by but only seconds had, and Hongjoong realised his brain was empty when it should be busy as hell. He watched an ice cube in his whiskey melt a little further beneath the amber liquid before shifting on his stool, leaning his elbows forwards onto the polished bar. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath.

Towards the back of the room, a solitary pianist sat at a large, grand piano, tinkling out soft, sweet tunes to add to the atmosphere. The pleasing hum of the jazz-themed music barely masked the clink of gl@ssware and murmured conversations, but none of it reached Hongjoong's ears as he instead convinced himself he should enjoy the silence in his head.

He opened his eyes again, letting the amber light back into his vision and stretched his body upwards. The bones of his back cracked out in relief and he took in a deep breath, running a hand through his dark locks before throwing back a large mouthful of his diluting whiskey. The spirit burned his throat and set fire to his stomach, but it felt good as it extinguished the stress that had been bubbling away in there most of the day.

Without a doubt, Hongjoong hated his job right now.

One of the most respected, senior solicitors in one of their country's biggest law firm, Hongjoong should have been revelling in the esteem the title allowed him. He had worked so hard to get to where he was, how could he forget? He was reminded every day by his directors, the local councils, the press, anyone and everyone who needed legal @ssistance, of how his reputation processed him.

Of course, the flying colours across all his University degrees and a family of lawyers to boost his name had helped, but with determination and steely resolve he had quickly become the most desirable legal figure in the business. His list of triumphs had grown very quickly along with his ego, Some clients might have said he was too rigid and stern, commenting sometimes that he was too snappy, cold and pushy, though Hongjoong preferred the terms 'professional' and 'practical'.

They had no place to judge him, and who were they to? Hongjoong was experienced in taking on large, complex jobs and getting them done right, so what was the problem? He was more than worth the money that was paid, and his time certainly was worth more than that, even though it sometimes seemed to come at the cost of his sanity and patience.

Hongjoong's work had become his life and, whether he liked it or not, he knew this was the bed he had made and resolved to live by. He was a lone wolf, but a savage one at that. His failed relationships would attest to his lifestyle, but it was fine. He didn't need them, he didn't need anyone. Everything that he'd built was his; his success, his fame, and usually that was all that mattered...

Yet, here Hongjoong was tonight, two cities away from home, suffering on day two of one of his company's biggest merger deals to date, and he loathed his job with every inch of his being. A slave to corporate law, and he couldn't do anything about it.

It mattered not that his company could afford to put him up in the fanciest hotel, expense all his food, the whiskey he was knocking back, allow him to travel where he wanted to. Despite all the allowances, the past two days had been hellish, solidifying why Hongjoong remembered he liked being alone so much.

People were so stupid.

Especially big corporation dummies. Of course, the merger deal was big news. It required a lot of contracts and red tape, a hell of a lot of signatures and b@llsh@t nodding and humming, just the same as any large corporate deal would. And despite the enormity of it all, Hongjoong had planned to have everything wrapped up and signed off in a matter of hours.

Fate, however, had not been on his side, leaving him silently crying inside that now they were about to enter into day three of talks and consultations. Though proceedings had started well, they had soon descended into re-negotiations and turn-arounds that had had Hongjoong's head reeling. Every time he'd had to contact his head office to have the contracts amended and re-issued, a part of his composure had died along with the fake smile on his face. By the end of the first day, it had vanished completely, leaving mostly only a stony stare in its wake.

Hongjoong took another sip of his whiskey, swilling it between his cheeks before letting it burn his insides again. It tasted so good on his tongue but bitterly served to remind him that, yes, he was still there and alive and, as much as he wished he wasn't, that he still had a job to do that his company was relying on him for.

Running fast out of perseverance, he had given himself and the directors a personal deadline of finishing the negotiations by tomorrow. Not just for the sake of their legal bill once all this was over, but for Hongjoong's own endurance level. And hell, that bill was going to be huge by the time three days’ worth of off-site legal proceedings were invoiced.

The numbers that would be featured in that future headache made Hongjoong want to grimace. By the time it was finished, the soon-to-be conglomerate would have wished they'd listened to Hongjoong from the start, rather than wasting three days thinking about whimsical ideas and where to split @ssets.

Oh, well.

Hongjoong had to remind himself that the wage would be worth it, even if it was only a small slither of a reminder in his aching head. There were a few renovations he wanted to complete in his apartment still that could easily be funded after the completion of this work. And there was the upcoming renewal of his car contract to worry about. Trivial things, yet expensive all the same.

He blinked, looking dead ahead at the back of the fully stocked bar in front of him. In between the sparkling gl@ss decanters, bottles and perfectly polished flutes, the large mirrored wall spanning the expanse of the bar reflected his own weary, unimpressed face back at him.

F@ck, I look like sh@t.

Ugh, how could he say it was all worth it when such a drained expression sat on his face?

And it wasn't just his usual, cold demeanour shining through, Hongjoong winced at his own pale skin and the dark circles beginning to form under his eyes. He'd been able to smooth his hair out, but the need for a good holiday was as evident as it could be. Maybe that should be how he chose to spend his next pay-check, he wondered, @ssuming of course that he could switch himself off enough to want to be on holiday. Perhaps some cosmetic surgery would be a quicker fix instead.

Hongjoong shrugged at his own reflection nonchalantly, knocking back the rest of his whiskey in one gulp and shivering at the flashing burn. He could feel heat tickling his cheeks and took a deep breath to chase down the alcohol, but found himself suddenly jumping in surprise and nearly choking on it as a sultry voice slipped into the side of his ear.

"Rough day?"

Coughing behind his hand, Hongjoong followed the voice sideways, registering that a man was now accompanying him at the bar a few stools down. But, hell, the sight that greeted him almost stilled the whiskey sloshing around in his stomach.

The figure before him was so beautiful, the stuff that runways and magazines could only dream of. Styled jet-black hair framed the most gorgeous almond eyes, honeyed cheeks and lips that put to shame the most delicate peaches. They curled into a soft, slightly threatening smile.

The man was tall and slim, though his torso was accentuated by the way a white shirt and black tie disappeared into a tight waistcoat, fitted, high waist belt and tailored palazzo trousers. Even though a large, black suit jacket rested across his shoulders, the way the man wore it like a cape only served to highlight his slight shoulders and the hidden curves of his hips.

Hongjoong had to blink a few times, wondering if the man speaking to him was real or a figment of his fatigue. He spun his head to check that there wasn't another person stood behind him or on his other side, because there was no way that someone so attractive had any reason to be addressing someone like him with such a smile.

"Yes, I'm talking to you," the man said gently with a nod towards Hongjoong, before turning to the approaching bartender. "Espresso martini, please."

As the bartender nodded in acknowledgement and shuffled off, Hongjoong had to blink himself to reality again. He felt himself automatically twist in his stool to get a better look at the man that had entered into his evening, fighting the urge to rub sleep from his eyes. He couldn't even say that he thought he'd had too much to drink, he was only on his second of the night having stayed so late at the company earlier.

Hongjoong didn't think in all his life that he'd ever been stunned by someone's beauty this way; the high, solid walls of his stoic personality usually saw to it that he was unapproachable at best and a lost case at worst. Yet, here was some kind of visual angel, smiling at him for no reason, like he had just saved the world.

He felt a flash of nerves hit his chest and knew it wasn't the whiskey this time blushing his cheeks. It felt a little strange almost, though Hongjoong struggled for a fleeting second with the sensation. It was rare that he felt so struck by another person so abruptly, but d@mn, this one was melting his icy exterior with just a glance.

The newcomer perched himself backwards onto the free stool, his back straight, posture perfect, an arm resting on the counter top and his other atop a lean thigh. Even though now seated, he could still allow a long leg to stretch to the tiled floor. Hongjoong noted via his other leg tapping upon the stool's foot rest that he was wearing heeled Chelsea boots. Even with those off, he would still be tall and sleek, all legs and heavenly features.

The bartender returning with a perfectly sculpted c@cktail snapped Hongjoong out of a daze he didn't know he'd fallen into. Nor did he realise that his mouth had been hanging open, evident in the feeling of air fanning over his tongue as he breathed. He nearly choked again as the stranger addressed him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Do you need another drink?"

Hongjoong's brain suddenly roared into life, blinking as he tore his eyes away from the man to survey the last of the ice melting in his empty gl@ss. What the hell was wrong with him? The man had spoken to him three times with no response. Hongjoong could feel his resolve disappearing like the ice in front of him.

What the f@ck is wrong with you?

Hongjoong chastised himself, clearing his throat gently before finally finding his voice. "I certainly do, another double on the rocks please, the 12-year single malt, Speyside," he asked of the bartender, who nodded and sidled away again.

"Wow, you must know your whiskeys," the angel observed, his piercing stare unwavering and doing everything it could to make Hongjoong melt in his chair.

He's just making conversation, keep it together.

"If I'm going to spend money on something, I like it to be worth it," Hongjoong replied. "And yes... in answer to your earlier question, it's been a very rough day."

The man chuckled lowly, his long eyelashes decorating his eyes as he looked at the floor, a hand absentmindedly twisting the stem of his c@cktail gl@ss. "I thought so. Me too. Misery loves company, is that what they say? Unless you'd rather be left alone...?"

For some reason, Hongjoong's mind started to panic. He had no idea who this man was, what his intentions were or what he wanted to talk about, but in an instant, he was terrified of losing him. Like a fisherman who had caught the catch of the day on deck under threat of losing it back to the sea. Somehow this stranger had walked into his deadpan evening and cast a light on his gloom of a day. What a strange feeling.

Startled, Hongjoong patted the stool directly next to him, urging the man to come closer instead of leaving. "Of course not, please."

With another smile, the man scooted across with his c@cktail in hand, just in time for the bartender to place another whiskey in front of Hongjoong with his thanks. He clasped a hand around the cool gl@ss, but it did nothing to quell the warmth he felt in his face as the man leaned closer.

In closer proximity, he was even more beautiful than Hongjoong could have imagined. At this distance, he could see the depth of his dark brown eyes, the hue of his gorgeous skin and he could appreciate the shine of a tinted gloss across his plump lips. An aroma of cologne also came with him, it had undertones of oud and leather, so representative of the siren placed in front of him and the outfit he wore so well. It was like there was an invisible aura around him that Hongjoong's lifeless soul was just intent on devouring.

Now he had a better look at it, Hongjoong was fascinated by the fabric cinching around the stranger's waist. It looked tight, pulling in the man's figure to create an hourgl@ss silhouette, perhaps that why he sat so upright next to him on the stool. But he didn't seem uncomfortable one bit, in fact, he seemed so at ease with the expensive looking outfit that was drenching him. It had to be designer, how could it not? Up close, the fabrics just reeked of quality and grandeur, much like the man they dressed.

"I'm sorry if I was intrusive," the man explained with a coy sideways glance, before finally taking a long sip of his c@cktail. As the liquid moved, the smell of coffee came to mingle up with the alluring scent of him. "I've not seen you here before. What brings you here, work? I noticed your suit."

A wave of awareness suddenly gripped Hongjoong, making his heart skip in the process. Next to this vision of perfection, he must have looked like such a mess; his sleeve buttons undone, shirt askew, jacket slung behind him and the sweat and dirt of the day still masking his skin. But the man didn't seem perturbed at all.

In any case, Hongjoong couldn't help a wave of embarr@ssment wash over him. It was strange, almost panicky in feeling. He'd never acted so fl@stered before in front of a stranger and it was almost annoying him. He tried to smooth his sleeves out a little, though quickly realised the creases were going nowhere. He let out a soft sigh, giving in instead to the handsome stranger's waiting eyes with an awkward smile.

"Yes, I'm here for work. Although, hopefully heading home tomorrow."

"Judging by the double whiskies, I'm guessing it's not going well?"

Even the way the man brought the thin rim of the c@cktail gl@ss up to his lips to drink was alluring. Hongjoong's eyes were transfixed, he had to stop his imagination from running away with itself. He couldn't help noticing the way the stranger's lips parted to allow the drink in, letting the gl@ss rim sit so gently in his mouth, cushioning it softly with the tip of his tongue as he lapped the alcohol up.

Hongjoong's breath hitched before he found words to reply. "I'm a solicitor, I'm working on a big deal that involves too many people and too much of my time. It's tiresome, but it'll be over soon. How about you, you must come here often?"

The man jutted that pillowy bottom lip out as he considered his answer. "Sometimes. I was supposed to meet a client here tonight, but it would appear I've been stood up. Which was annoying at first..."

Hongjoong finally settled his stomach enough to raise his gl@ss and take a mouthful of liquid courage, though he didn't feel half as sexy doing so as the other man did. As the whiskey burned his mouth again, he found himself wondering how each p@ssing second had brought him into this man's presence.He was so mysterious, so magnetic, and Hongjoong didn't even know his name. All he knew was how much faster his heart was beating. It was like inhaling gas, the longer he did it the hazier things were getting, but he didn't even notice. He was relaxing, soothing... despite increasing his pulse.

"That is annoying, I'm sorry," Hongjoong said sincerely. "What do you do for work?"

The man smiled broadly. "I'm a tailor," he said, reaching into his oversized jacket to produce a small card that he proposed to Hongjoong. "I have a shop close by to here, hence why I was meeting my client at this bar, but... never mind, their loss, your gain."

Hongjoong surveyed the card suspended in front of him, hesitating a second before taking it from the man's perfectly manicured hand. He could have sworn his long fingers brushed against his on purpose, but why on earth would he do that...? It made Hongjoong's throat dry up.

The business card was heavy, thick, the material textured and shimmering. It screamed quality and value, much the same as the man that had handed it to him. It felt expensive between Hongjoong's fingers as he eyed up the minimal amount of raised, black text upon it; a business name and address, nothing more.

"'Illusion by Park Seonghwa'?" he asked out loud, waiting for the pretty man to nod in agreement. "So, your name is Seonghwa? That's beautiful."

F@ck.

Hongjoong felt a stab of panic. He couldn't believe he'd just said that, but the words had fallen from his mouth without restraint. There was something about the feel of the card on his fingertips, coupled with the intense stare from the man he now knew as Seonghwa, that had turned his concrete brain to mush.

But was that also a blush that he noticed creeping up onto Seonghwa's cheeks as he nervously took another drink?

"Ah, thank you," he smiled at the bar top. "So, now you know my name... to whom do I have the pleasure of talking to?"

Also, f@ck."Ugh, I'm sorry, my brain is not with it," Hongjoong blurted back into life.

He suddenly fumbled into the jacket he'd left slung over his seat. He deposited Seonghwa's business card into the inside pocket and produced one of his own from a slim case, before the garment unceremoniously slid to the floor with a tut. Hongjoong let it go, far more entranced with how happily Seonghwa took the card from him before giving the information a raised eyebrow in interest. The jacket falling to the floor had not gone unnoticed.

"Hmm. Kim Hongjoong, Senior Solicitor at Paradigm Inc," Seonghwa nodded as he read in dulcet tones, impressed. "Very nice. I know of this company, it's big. But isn't your head office, like, two cities over?"

"Exactly. Hence why I'm a little tired," Hongjoong admitted. "I'm here to oversee this huge, multi-company merger and it's not exactly been an easy job. I can't wait for it to be over."

Seonghwa hid Hongjoong's card away with enthusiasm, although it almost seemed like he'd tucked it somewhere into the fabric corseting his waist. At the action, it suddenly dawned on Hongjoong why Seonghwa was so luxuriously dressed and poised the way he was.

How could he not have noticed it before?

So incredibly elegant, designed to perfection and drop dead gorgeous in those clothes; of course, he was a bespoke tailor. What else could he be with the insane amount of wonder and desire that he oozed, not to mention the face card to match?

Such an expensive human had chosen to keep Hongjoong company, yet he couldn't even find the right words to hold a decent conversation. He must have come across the most boring, average, corporate city worker there could ever be to such a dove.

"I see, well, that sounds like no fun at all. Sounds like you're working too hard," Seonghwa mused.

He surprised Hongjoong by suddenly slipping off his perch in one fluid movement and reaching down to pick up his fallen jacket from behind him on the floor. As Seonghwa smoothed it more securely over the back of Hongjoong's stool, the smaller man couldn't help taking in a bigger breath to still his nerves.

The closeness of Seonghwa's figure sent bubbles rolling into Hongjoong's stomach, along with that alluring mixture of oud and coffee filling his nose. He was so in denial at how besotted he was that he was fast losing control of his senses.

"...Maybe I am," Hongjoong mumbled out, slowly releasing the breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

He couldn't take his eyes off Seonghwa, so aware of how tall he was over him as he stood beside him, a hand still resting protectively on the back of Hongjoong's jacket behind him whilst the other held the bar. It gave the illusion of trapping Hongjoong in, of possession, even though there clearly wasn't anything to be jealous of. Maybe Hongjoong wished there was.

Seonghwa's gaze was entrancing. Like a snake charmer holding sway over a beautiful cobra, harnessing its every movement until it was commanded to strike. Hongjoong could feel himself falling deeper into the bottomless pits of Seonghwa's eyes as he towered over his sat form. He was dominant, yet so endearing, fixating Hongjoong so badly that he could only hear his own heart beating in his ears as he leaned closer towards him. He never took in Seonghwa's voice, only vaguely registered that his lips moved.

"Blue Summer."

Hongjoong blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"You like Blue Summer?"

"Uhh..."

Had he really drunk too much already, or was Seonghwa speaking a language Hongjoong didn't understand? Had he really been so entranced that his brain had melted out of his ears already? Mind you, the way Seonghwa was beginning to smile at Hongjoong, pointed canines on show, he could have said anything and his icy exterior would have continued melting until it evaporated.

"Your suit jacket..." Seonghwa nodded towards the material gripped in his hand behind him. "I know the label. Blue Summer. You have good taste."

F@ck@ng idiot.

Hongjoong could feel a blush of his own washing through his face, though with embarr@ssment instead of shyness. He had to get his sh@t together and quick, before he even forgot his own name and had to be reminded. The recognition made his brain tingle; Blue Summer wasn't a cheap brand to buy, though they were famed more for their hardwearing staples rather than delicate lines and silk. Of course, it seemed appropriate that such a busy man would wear something that could endure the waves of corporate hardships.Then why did Hongjoong seem so naked all of a sudden? In all his years of diving into city businesses, arguing the toss over equity and finance, representing the best his city had to offer, Hongjoong had never felt so powerless and underdressed. The realisation was startling, a real knock down to the ego he usually had no problem maintaining.

Hongjoong swallowed, reminding himself that they were just both humans, despite his rapture. Especially with Seonghwa smiling so softly at him, so calmly, like the fabric on his body didn't matter anyway. That the person beneath them was much more interesting. There was a certain mysterious depth to Seonghwa's eyes that felt like it was hiding something that Hongjoong had to push his stupid feelings aside to uncover.

He cleared his throat lightly. "Well, I want to say 'thanks', but I look nowhere near as good as you. Your outfit is... is..." Hongjoong paused whilst his brain misfired, cautioning him to think about his words. "...well, it's divine." Perfect. "Hell, if I turned up to my meeting tomorrow in your outfit, I don't think I'd have any work to do."

Seonghwa looked at the floor demurely, allowing his grin to spread at the compliment. God, could he get any more beautiful? The way his cheeks perfectly framed his smile, pushing his eyes into the most appealing crescents, it was dreamlike. Though as his eyes raised back up, they seemed to rake the length of Hongjoong's sat form, encouraging him to straighten his back a little under their gaze.

Seonghwa noted his shoes were leather, good quality, polished, but well worn, representative of a man who worked too hard treading office floors on the phone. He recognised the black suit pants too as Blue Summer, matching his suit jacket, and the deep pleats along the lengths of the fabric were unmistakable.

Years of experience in the business of fashion told him that Hongjoong's white shirt could do with replacing, but had plenty of life left in it yet. He could see through the bunched-up wrinkles on the sleeves and where it was tucked in; despite the creases and wear, it was of notable condition, experienced in life much like its owner.

And despite their short time together, that seemed like Hongjoong all over; hard working, with an important job to do, but no interest in frivolities. It was so fascinating to Seonghwa, how such a pretty, slim, young man had climbed so high in his field yet still didn't have the time to see a tailor; indulging only in ready-made brands. So exhausted at such a young age and rattling so well underneath his advances.

It made Seonghwa's heart beat with secret glee. He could help with this.What had begun as such a disappointing night had turned into something excitingly wonderful. How lucky he felt to have spied this lone figure propping up his favourite bar, just waiting for an excuse to let loose. And if anyone was experienced in the art of disrobing, it was Park Seonghwa.Before he let his eyes finally rise up to meet Hongjoong's again, Seonghwa's gaze lingered on the open buttons and loose, black tie sitting at his neck. He became fascinated for just a second by the tautness of the neckline there, at the bob of Hongjoong's Adam's apple as he swallowed nervously. There was just a hint of collarbone visible through the open folds of the shirt that made Seonghwa's mouth nearly water under his calm guise.

Without hesitation, Seonghwa's hands moved up to grab at Hongjoong's shirt, closing up the buttons before his patience was tested any further. Hongjoong's eyes widened, stunned for words, but compliant as Seonghwa's fingers brushed against his neck. He almost couldn't move, not for want of trying, but through the feeling of craving more of the touch. The tailor's hands were light, but confident, as he moved to the fabric of the dishevelled tie.

The amber lighting of the bar seemed to narrow, focusing on the two of them as if the rest of the world had faded away. Hongjoong sat still, his breath hitching as Seonghwa's cologne continued to fill the space between them. His mind flashed back to how he used to feel as a teenager, as his mother used to help him with his tie before work, promising him that the world would be his oyster as long as he could look the part and work hard. He had done his best, and look where it had finally brought him.

Now, with the most beautiful stranger in the world fixing his tie in public for him, Hongjoong could only feel his insides melt. He felt warmth spread through his chest, byp@ssing his stomach and straight into his groin. He shifted in his stool, unsure of how far he wanted this fire to spread, but also unable to extinguish it the longer he let Seonghwa work at his neck.

“Hold still,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Hongjoong's spine.

Seonghwa gently attempted to unknot the tight ball that Hongjoong had fixed in the tie, their eyes finally locking as he worked. The intimacy of the moment, the way Seonghwa's fingers moved with practiced ease, it almost felt almost too personal, far too close for two strangers who had just met in a bar. But Hongjoong didn’t move away, he couldn't. Nor did he want to.

Despite the fact his insides were physically riling, Hongjoong felt calm inside his head. There was no noise, no phone calls, no arguments or stress, inside his consciousness he was relaxing. Perhaps he had spent too much time alone, because the feeling of a stranger doting on him in such a way was so unfamiliar.

A few more pulls and Seonghwa was satisfied, nodding at the release he knew Hongjoong now felt around his neck. As his hands slid the tie from his collar, Seonghwa's fingers grazed the skin of his neck again, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.Hongjoong swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way Seonghwa's touch was unravelling him, inch by painful inch. Seonghwa noticed, of course, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he picked up the tie again, this time looping it around with a deliberate slowness.

“You know,” Seonghwa said softly, his eyes still never leaving Hongjoong's, “a good tie is like a good suit, it's meant to fit everything just right. It's an important statement... you should add some more colour.”

Seonghwa tightened the knot, his knuckles brushing against the top of Hongjoong's chest, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. He could feel Hongjoong's heart rate soaring in his ribcage, feel the pulse of his blood through the cotton of the shirt. It made Seonghwa's fingers tingle, knowing that even the fabric of life couldn't disguise Hongjoong's nerves.

Hongjoong was fast losing control. He heard noise in his ears but it was intelligible; all he could focus on was the dreamlike state that this tailor had put him under. He was so used to control, to precision, to keeping everything in its place. But right now under Seonghwa's careful hands, he felt anything but in control. There was a tension between them, a crackling energy that made the air feel thick, charged with the promise of something more.

“There,” Seonghwa said, finally stepping back, but not before giving the tie a final, gentle tug. “Perfect.”

Hongjoong let out a ragged breath, he felt like his face was on fire. “Thanks,” he managed, his voice rougher than he intended.

But Seonghwa wasn’t done yet.

He reached for his c@cktail, lifting the gl@ss to down the entirety of his drink in one impressive mouthful, before leaning in towards Hongjoong's ear. His mouth was just inches from the lobe, his breath warm and intoxicating, mixing sheening sweat with alcohol. He could almost eat the electricity that was radiating from Hongjoong's skin.

“It’s not just a new tie that would look good on you,” Seonghwa whispered, the words sending a jolt of heat through Hongjoong's veins.

Before Hongjoong could even think of any words to respond, Seonghwa pulled back. His expression was infuriatingly casual, as if he hadn’t just set off an explosion between them. Hongjoong really was stuck for words, completely overtaken by the waves of arousal that were flooding his body. He knew if this carried on, that he would have to pick up his jacket to cover his crotch.

This was bonkers.

The more Hongjoong tried to process what was happening the less it made sense, but in the most excellent way. Not so long ago he had been sat staring into space, hoping that the whiskey in front of him would drown his sorrows before another day of legal torture... yet now here he was, attempting to fend off the most insane l@st, being administered by one of the most beautiful people he'd ever laid eyes on, who had done nothing more than strike up a conversation and fix his crumpled workwear for him.

Hongjoong reached for his own drink, knocking back a large mouthful of whiskey to try and steady his stomach. Sadly, all it did was throw a match into all the gasoline swilling around in there, but the distraction was welcome all the same. Seonghwa was looking at Hongjoong in a way that he just couldn't break away from.

“Hmm, I have a proposition for you, if you wouldn't mind indulging me?" Seonghwa sang sweetly. "But, of course, feel free to say no."

"By all means," Hongjoong nodded, slightly slack mouthed

"I know you’re all set for your important meeting tomorrow, but...” Seonghwa paused to take his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily and Hongjoong thought he might lose it. “Maybe before you turn in, you’d like to accompany me to my shop? Like I said, it's just around the corner and there's no rush... I just have something there that would look... spectacular on you."

Oh my god.

Hongjoong was transfixed in his chair, his mind racing to catch up with the whirlwind that had just been unleashed. He could still feel Seonghwa's fingers around his neck, the tie now felt like a leash, a connection between them that was impossible to ignore.

Seonghwa's offer hung in the air as he awaited a response with baited breath, the answer of a possibility that was destroying Hongjoong's composure in real time. He wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in impulsive decisions or fleeting encounters. His life was built on strategy, planning, results that meant he always remained one step ahead. But there was something about Seonghwa that was erasing everything he knew, something magnetic that made him want to break his own rules, if not just for one night.

And why the f@ck should he say no to that?

Hongjoong sized up the remaining whiskey in his gl@ss, following Seonghwa's suit and downing the liquid in one. This required more courage than the liquid would give him, but it would have to do.

As the alcohol hit his system, Hongjoong fell into Seonghwa's smile again. He waved to the bartender, asking him to put both their drinks onto his room tab before thanking him and slipping cautiously off his stool. As he grabbed his jacket he felt small underneath Seonghwa's stature, but not intimidated, only still in awe of his beauty.

“Lead the way,” Hongjoong said, his voice feeling steadier than his nerves.

Seonghwa nodded without another word, his eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper... curiosity, maybe, or anticipation? He held an arm out for Hongjoong to lead, turning after him and flanking his side as they started their walk together to the exit. Hongjoong tried to make his stride confident and unhurried, as if he knew he had to impress Seonghwa, but there was no impressing the soft click of those expensive heels on the lobby marble as they left.

They walked in silence though the tension between them grew with each step. As they spilled out onto the street, the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth they had just left behind. Hongjoong was surprisingly glad it was a little chilly; he felt like he needed some ice to put out the fires that were surging through his veins. Perhaps he shouldn't have downed that last bit of whiskey, he felt like his stomach was rolling. He shrugged his jacket on in attempted distraction.

"This way, it's not far," Seonghwa motioned away from the hotel.

The city street lights flickered above them in the clear night, casting long shadows as they moved down the pavement under Seonghwa's lead. There was such a different feel to this city than home. The atmosphere was filled with a vibrancy that had p@ssed over Hongjoong's head before.

Across the busy street, people spilled out of bars with smiles on their faces, or strolled jovially hand in hand with partners and friends. Young couples took selfies and caught up on the latest gossip as they walked, so animated and colourful in their movements. Despite the late hour, Hongjoong couldn't help but be surprised by the cheerfulness of this city compared to the grey, seriously heavy corporation of his own. He couldn't ever imagine having friends that smiled and laughed with him that way, what did it even feel like? To laugh spontaneously like that.

It was a breath of fresh air, one that he had been too busy to notice. And one that he probably never would have taken notice of, unless the lovely stranger beside him hadn't helped to walk him out of that bar tonight. He really was too tunnel-visioned, too focused and tied up with the corporate nightmare of his life.

Work, work, work... was that really his entire worth?

Look how pretty the moon was in the clear night sky above them. It helped their shadows grow longer on the pavement as they walked, almost obscuring the images so their arms and shoulders were touching.

Hongjoong never would have thought to look up at the starlight and see how fate had brought a chance figure into his evening. He never would have thought to p@ss thanks to them for the same reason, or wish on those stars as they fell. Why would he have ever thought to look up, when all his life did was keep him down?

Twenty-five years on this earth and only now, treading the pavement on a chilly night far away from home, had his eyes had felt open to how lovely the world was.

Hongjoong felt a pang of regret. He should have been excited about being in such a wonderful city, doing great things and exploring opportunities, but once again work had encomp@ssed him fully. It had made it a chore, just another stressful job to deal with before going back to the daily grind. He knew every day was the same, just waiting for it to end so the next could come.Where was the excitement in that?Hongjoong's life was slipping away before his eyes and he hadn't even noticed.In front of them, a group of young girls spilled out of a parked taxi, urging them to step around. But it made Hongjoong smile rather than tut in annoyance; what did they have to be so happy about in the middle of the week? Hongjoong was desperate to know, filled with a newfound curiosity about how people lived outside of work.

Seonghwa led them around the next corner and into a street filled with luxuriously lit store fronts. Hongjoong figured they must be close now; the promenade seemed very representative of the man walking beside him. There was a sweet smell in the air, almost like vanilla, and manicured flowers and trees lined the paved walkways.Gl@ss store fronts were polished to perfection so that they could display the expensive jewels and gold behind them. As they strolled past the crystal, Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice their reflection in the surfaces. Even though they moved, the windows were so clear that their reflections were sharp. He and Seonghwa looked like they could be a walking couple, though the only thing missing was a touch...

Hongjoong's eyes lowered to Seonghwa's closest hand; though the fabric of his large jacket drowned his body, it would be so easy to reach out and grab it. He wondered how it would feel to thread those fingers together. He'd already felt the softness of Seonghwa's hands brushing his neck, surely a quick touch wouldn't matter...

Hongjoong felt his fingers flexing, but his musings were interrupted by Seonghwa turning to him, snapping him back to reality. He had an eyebrow raised in amusement. Sh@t, had he been staring?

"We're almost there, it's just down the way," he spoiled Hongjoong's daydream by raising that hand to point down the street.

"Great..." Hongjoong said, but there were other thoughts now bouncing around his head. "So, did you really get stood up tonight?" he asked curiously.

"What makes you think I didn't?" Seonghwa snorted.

"You seem well versed in dragging tired businessmen from bars and luring them to your shop."

"Oh, I don't know," Seonghwa laughed, "I didn't have to try too hard, you seem to be coming very willingly."

He had him there.

It would seem like a crazy story by the time it was over. The tale of an overworked city boy lured away from his woes by an entrancing siren, with nothing but a short conversation behind them and a whole night to uncover. It would be the stuff of fiction, were it not for the very real rushing of blood Hongjoong could hear in his ears.

"I promise you it's true," Seonghwa defended himself, "I waited for over an hour and a half. But then I saw you propping up the bar and decided another drink was in order rather than throwing in the towel."

"Huh, your client didn't get in touch?"

Hongjoong was a little puzzled. In his line of work, being in contact was a vital heartbeat to success. If people couldn't talk, they weren't worth the time. Though he noted curiously, that he hadn't checked his phone once since Seonghwa had entered into his evening. He had to brush a hand over his trouser pocket to check it was still there, relieved when he felt the weight of the device on his hip.

Seonghwa shook his head gently. "You may have noticed that my business card has no phone number, no email, no social media links, nothing like that."

He watched in affirmation as Hongjoong took the card out again to remind himself, though his expression was still confused. "I did wonder about that."

"In my work, my preference is to engage with and see to clients in person. Everything I create is made with such effort and accuracy, I want it to embody the spirit of the person wearing it. Much like an extension, not a cover. And I can't get that feeling over impersonal calls and voiceless emails. Sadly, it does pose occasional problems, but no matter."

Of course, it made sense.

Seonghwa's job was physical by nature, as well as bespoke. Providing a flawless tailored service would require numerous in person fittings, alterations and presentations. The materials might change, the colours could improve, what was appropriate one day could change at the drop of a mood. It wouldn't ever be right the first time, and Hongjoong supposed that's what made for such a unique line of work. Though it still seemed a little odd to be so old-fashioned about it, but perhaps it was more refreshing than it seemed.

A few more steps and Seonghwa brought them to a halt outside a particular shop. Hongjoong felt like the whole time they'd been walking he'd been lost in a daze; between the feelings of worldly openness and curiosity he was experiencing, his mind had been awash with arousing nerves that just wouldn't go away.

Despite the chill of the night, he just couldn't erase Seonghwa's fingerprints from his neck. The second he had touched his skin it had scorched him. He couldn't ever remember being touched like that, so openly teasing, and in public nonetheless. All Seonghwa had done was fix his tie, yet it had become the most erotic experience of Hongjoong's life and it wasn't about to leave his mind any time soon.

The shop front was as opulently dressed as its owner, with a large glass front displaying numerous well-dressed mannequins. The suits they all wore were distinct in nature, a mixture of materials and colours and varying styles. Greens ran into reds and velvets into silk, creating such a beautiful display that would draw anyone's attention. A pair of high heels here, a feathered hat there, gold belts and wool scarves littered between them, Hongjoong could tell immediately that this was all Seonghwa's work, the extravagant result of his imagination. Hongjoong could only imagine how intricate it was inside his head.

In front of it all, the pair's reflection in the streetlight-glistened window made Hongjoong's stomach twist. Seonghwa's height advantage over him, his c@cked hip and folded arms over that incredible figure... the visual domination was so powerful, heart stopping even, no matter how the colours behind the glass diluted the dark of their own suits.

Above the large window, a long, glossy, black sign held the text 'Illusion by Park Seonghwa' in italic gold text. Hongjoong considered that, if ever there was an illusion to create, this was definitely it. He felt so futile before such grandeur, in his plain black suit and white shirt, but Seonghwa didn't seem to think so. The way he looked at the awe spreading over Hongjoong's features was more reminiscent of a lion sizing up its prey.

"And of course, you know, trying to get measurements over the phone can be a little tricky, so I refuse," Seonghwa continued suddenly, motioning towards his empire. "If people truly require my services, they know where to find me."

"So, if you're in control of everything, how did that lead to you being stood up?" Hongjoong queried, dragging his eyes away from their reflection.

"Bad luck tonight. It would appear I can lose control of some things..." Seonghwa could only shrug with a smile. He produced a small key from his pocket, moving to unlock the glass-laden front door and pushed it open to a soft chime. "Shall we?"

The inside of the shop was dim as Hongjoong stepped inside, the only light coming from the street outside, but it cast a soft glow over the shape of racks and walls of fine fabrics. Hongjoong also noticed his shoes had stepped off of concrete and onto plush carpet, cushioning his feet underneath him. The smell of leather and cotton filled his nose, tickling his senses in a stark difference to the fresh air outside.

It was a space that exuded elegance and precision, even more so once Seonghwa had shut the door behind them, chimes gently tinkling again across the room. Hongjoong noted hearing a heavy lock turn before Seonghwa flipped a switch to drench the shop in light.

“Welcome to my world,” he said, his voice low as he closed in on Hongjoong's figure. He made his shoulders shiver underneath his hands. “I think you’ll find it more comfortable than a stuffy boardroom.”

Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile at that, a little in embarrassment, but more at how smooth Seonghwa's flirting was. He took in the subtle luxury of the place, the way every detail seemed to reflect Seonghwa's entire personality; stylish, confident, with a hint of something mysterious hiding beneath the surface. The brown woods and gentle grey and cream tones brought calm connotations that matched Seonghwa's way of talking. The opulence of the neatly laid out fabrics only echoed his grace.

Every wall before them encompassed rails and shelves filled with clothes, so precisely set out it would be shame to pick anything from the hangers for fear of ruining the impeccable symmetry. The middle of the room held a huge, table-like work surface in dark oak, that Hongjoong assumed would be used for measuring and cutting fabrics. Some of the brightest spotlights in the ceiling shone down from above it, highlighting scores and cuts in the worn surface. Well used, of course, and well placed for cutting expensive fabrics without mistakes.

Flanking the sides of the room were scores of standing mirrors and glass cabinets. Some held accessories, hats, shoes and boots, others held small pieces of jewellery that sparkled wonderfully under the lights. When Hongjoong tentatively stepped forward to take in the entirety of the shop, he couldn't help catching himself in the reflection of one surface or another. He didn't feel anywhere near worthy enough to be inside such a place, yet at the same time, felt a bit giddy to be there.

Now it made sense when Seonghwa had told him "welcome to my world", because this place was unlike any Hongjoong had ever been in before. It had such a serene feel to it, very calming and quiet, it relaxed the stress in his head and replaced it with something a tad playful. And rightly so because, metaphorically speaking, this was all Seonghwa's playground.

“Wow, it's really nice. It suits you,” Hongjoong finally said, his tone almost reverent. “This place.”

Seonghwa grinned, striding over to a nearby rack of ties. He ran his fingers along the different levels of coloured, silk fabric, picking a few up and surveying them in the lights. A second later he selected one with a pleased “a-ha!”.

“And you,” he said joyfully, holding up the tie for Hongjoong to survey, “suit this.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, holding up a stunning, burgundy-coloured, baroque patterned tie. It looked so expensive, the silk of the fabric shimmering beautifully under the spotlights. Seonghwa draped the fabric of the tie around Hongjoong's neck, this time with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver down his spine. He let the material rest against his neck, noting how even the smooth silk felt cool against his burning skin. Thank god the spotlights weren't much brighter, because Hongjoong wagered his cheeks were probably turning the same colour of the tie.

Seonghwa's hands suddenly moved again with practiced ease, undoing the perfect knot he'd made earlier to drag the black tie out. As Seonghwa replaced it with the new red tie Hongjoong’s breath hitched; that familiar sensation was now charged with something different, almost an acknowledgement of where this was leading.

The comforting silence of the shop shutting out the world beyond the door quickly became thick with intent. There was something different in this touch, an intimacy that went beyond mere attraction, a tenderness that caught them both off guard. Seonghwa was smiling like a Cheshire cat all the while Hongjoong was reduced to an internal mess in front of him. It took less time to tie the knot on this occasion, leaving only Seonghwa's fingers tracing down his chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Hongjoong asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It wasn’t just about the tie any more. They both knew it.

Seonghwa paused, his hands stilling for a moment as he looked into Hongjoong's eyes.

“Because I want to,” he said simply, his gaze steady, unflinching. “And because I think you need someone to remind you that there’s more to life than just winning. That sometimes it’s okay to lose control. You never know where it might lead.”

Hongjoong swallowed hard, the words hitting him with a force he hadn’t expected.

He became very aware of how shallow his breaths were, like Seonghwa's hands on his chest were controlling the flow into his lungs. It was like the taller man could see straight through him with his piercing eyes. They barely knew each other, yet somehow Hongjoong could feel this stranger unravelling him before himself. Just like he so easily unravelled the knots of his tie, Seonghwa somehow made him feel how taut he'd become in his own life. He could see past the carefully constructed walls and into the heart of a cold, arrogant man who rarely let anyone see the real him.

And in that moment, standing in the soft glow of the boutique, Hongjoong decided he was tired of resisting tonight.

He reached up, his hand closing around Seonghwa's wrist, gently pulling him closer. Hongjoong nearly begged, his voice cracking with need and something else; something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Then show me where this leads."

And then he had him.

Seonghwa's eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and excitement, and he didn’t hesitate to show Hongjoong how good his life could be. He gripped the fabric of the tie tauter as he leaned in, capturing Hongjoong's mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Hongjoong didn't know why he was surprised. The l@st that had been burning all night was suddenly unleashed like a hot, coiled spring. Hongjoong had little time to note that Seonghwa's lips were as soft and plump as they appeared, nor did he have any time to appreciate the glamour of his face so close. He was overtaken by the taste of strawberry lip gloss, coffee and opulence on Seonghwa's tongue as it immediately urged his lips open.

The way Seonghwa tilted his head to lap into Hongjoong's mouth made him glad that he was being held up by the tie. He could feel his knees immediately weakening, moving his arms up to grip at Seonghwa's shoulders so he didn't melt any further. Desire flashed through Hongjoong like lightning, sparking from his toes all the way up his torso, unable to believe the heat that was finally raging in his stomach as Seonghwa pressed closer.

The kiss was so hungry, so demanding, tinged almost with desperation that Hongjoong found the resolve to meet it with equal fervour. The tension of the night had finally boiled over. Their hands roamed, exploring, pulling each other closer until there was no space left to take. Hongjoong pushed his tongue up to meet Seonghwa's, relishing in the taste of him until saliva was messily spilling from the corners of their open mouths.

The mirrors around the room reflected their entwined figures, doubling up on the visual frenzy that was their meeting. It was a blur of motion and passion as Seonghwa pushed Hongjoong backwards until his backside hit the cutting table. They were so lost in the sensation of hands on waists, of lips and teeth and the frantic rhythm of their hearts, that the sudden leverage of the table became a shock.

Hongjoong broke the kiss first, nearly gasping for air, but his endeavour was fruitless. With the surface behind him holding his body in place, he was powerless to resist how Seonghwa rolled his crotch forwards into his. And with that, he still couldn't find the air he needed, only able to let a low groan escape his swelling lips. The little oxygen he could gasp in barely touched the sides.

Though his wide trousers covered it well, Seonghwa was rapidly hardening beneath the flowing material. The bulge was almost painful as he continued to grind against Hongjoong's similarly growing erection, the friction of the suit fabrics becoming deathly between them. Seonghwa's c@ck was filling out more with every roll of his hips, the feel of it was driving Hongjoong crazy. He felt such big, mouth-watering hardness dragging across his hip and his lower abdomen.

The smaller man couldn't help biting his own lip, his eyes fluttering shut whilst Seonghwa leaned in to attach his lips to his neck. He sucked and nipped like a man starved, it was unlike any onslaught that Hongjoong had ever experienced with any partner. The feel of that luscious, accursed mouth trailing hot saliva and teeth down the tense muscle of his neck, the grip of Seonghwa's hands around his back, dragging down towards the swell of his backside, it was a sensation overload that had Hongjoong struggling to breathe.

The cutting table was too high for the smaller man to be hoisted up on to, but the pressure of it behind certainly helped them both get infuriatingly close. The electric friction sparking between their grinding bodies was sending Hongjoong into a frenzy, especially when Seonghwa shoved a leg in between his. A toned thigh suddenly rubbing against Hongjoong's pulsing erection was about to send him wild. He couldn't help a whine escaping his throat when Seonghwa's fingers dug into the meat of his backside, urging his groin forwards in such an awful, new way. He would be visibly leaking any second with no way to control it.

Seonghwa was busy sucking a beautiful mark onto that pale neck when Hongjoong rolled his hips forwards again of his own accord this time. It made him smirk against the bruised skin, hearing and feeling how desperate Hongjoong was to chase the friction and the pleasure roiling deep between his crotch and his spine. He was more than happy to guide Hongjoong's body with his hands as small pants began to fall.

Seonghwa had spoken before of control, but who knew what that was anymore? Because Hongjoong definitely felt like he was about to lose it all.

For such a stoic businessman, it was like stepping into the unknown and letting go of the order Hongjoong clung to so tightly in his life. Surrendering to the moment suddenly had a completely new meaning. Everytime Seonghwa's body pressed against him he lost another brick in those steadfast walls. The feel of Seonghwa's body against his, the taste of him, the way he made him feel so alive, Hongjoong hadn't felt kind of euphoria in years. It made getting blind drunk feel like a pointless exercise.

Hongjoong was about to give himself over entirely, when he felt the man unexpectedly pull back. His leg disappeared and his teeth detached from Hongjoong's neck, leaving him nearly whining at the loss of the wet warmth. But there was a mischievously l@stful glint in Seonghwa's eyes that only made Hongjoong's blood race faster in exchange.

Seonghwa grinned, though there was a hint of unassuming shyness to the blush on his cheeks. He looked almost fervidly at the mess across Hongjoong's neck before clearing his throat. Make up definitely wouldn't cover the blooming marks he had chewed there. He should probably send Hongjoong on his way later with a scarf so that he didn’t flabbergast his clients.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Is this too much too fast?"

"What, are you kidding? It's not enough," Hongjoong replied breathlessly, snaking a hand up to pull Seonghwa down for another, deep kiss.

With the dams now burst, Hongjoong was powerless to resist his newfound addiction. He opened his mouth, letting Seonghwa's tongue slip back between his lips with ease. The searing passion left him moaning and writhing into the slide of the hot muscle, the vibrations making Seonghwa leave a grin against his mouth. Seonghwa pulled back this time with Hongjoong's tongue between his lips, sucking gently on it before nipping and letting go with that knowing smirk.

Hongjoong should have been speechless, but that fresh desire was urging his confidence forwards. "Sh@t. Where does someone like you learn to kiss like that?"

"Rude. I'm a natural," Seonghwa scoffed, before pushing away from the table and taking Hongjoong's hand. "Come, let's go through to the back, it's much more comfortable there."

"What do you do in the back?" Hongjoong dared to ask.

"Oh, sweetheart," Seonghwa sighed wistfully, but added a sly wink. "You don't think I fit out here, do you?"

It was wonderful, really, how full of surprises Seonghwa was. He was so poised on the outside, a literal vision of perfection, but the charisma he exuded when he opened that luscious mouth of his was deadly. Hongjoong couldn't ever remember being called a pet name like that; in Seonghwa's sweet tones it was enchanting. Like a bear to honey, Hongjoong was powerless to resist the urge to know more about where Seonghwa did his sordid fitting."Please, come this way."

Seonghwa's hand rested gently on the small of Hongjoong's back, guiding him through the lit boutique towards a heavy, red curtain. There was a quiet confidence in the way he was led that made Hongjoong's stomach tickle with nerves. It felt like walking into a trap, except nobody ever walked so willingly into a snare filled with arousal this way.

Even their footsteps on the carpet sounded loud in the quiet of the shop. Hongjoong's heart began to skip. As they passed racks of smooth fabrics he held his hands out to brush over the materials, but it did little to distract him from the anticipation; he barely registered the luxurious fabrics on his skin, nothing able to erase the feel of how Seonghwa's shoulders had tensed under his hands whilst they had kissed.

When they reached the fitting room, Seonghwa pulled aside the heavy curtain for Hongjoong to pass through. The lights of the boutique behind them cast a warm, intimate glow for just a second into what was the most private of spaces. With the closing of the curtain behind them, Hongjoong felt his fate seal in the most tantalising way, and he wasn't sorry one bit for the decisions he was about to make.

Hongjoong hesitated at the threshold's edge, his breath catching in his throat as Seonghwa strode forwards to turn more lights on. Under the flickering electricity, all at once the playground became apparent. Seonghwa's gaze caught him unawares as he turned, steady, confident, yet with a devilish streak enough to keep his insides twisting.

"Wow, this place is..." Hongjoong trailed off, much to Seonghwa's delight.

"...Intimate?" he offered smoothly.

Clean, white spotlights in the ceiling rained down over a small, yet functional space. In contrast to the colours outside, this room was drenched in purples, giving an almost boudoir feel to its image. Even the thick carpet in a reddy, brown colour felt like it did something to add weight to the atmosphere... or was that just Hongjoong's disposition disappearing under Seonghwa's hungry stare.

"I was going to say voyeuristic," Hongjoong mused.

Dead centre of the room was a small, raised podium, flanked on three sides by floor-to-ceiling mirrors that encompassed the entire walls. They shined so terribly, so gleefully in the light, not a finger or hand print to be seen anywhere across their sparkling surfaces. The only wall that held no mirrors behind them instead had racks, drawers and shelves stretched across it, framing around a large, grey, crushed velvet sofa that was so perfectly placed for spectators leaning back to watch a show.

Hongjoong could only assume this podium was where Seonghwa had his models stand whilst he fitted them. Whilst he undressed them to nothing and redressed them in splendour. He swallowed hard as he imagined the silent pressure of those reflections from all sides as Seonghwa's skilled hands worked up arms, across chests, down backs and between thighs.

Hongjoong was so used to leading, to being in control of proceedings, but here under Seonghwa's quiet authority and the promise of what might come, he felt suddenly naked in his own clothes. The impending vulnerability both terrified and thrilled him.

"Interesting take..." Seonghwa crept up to Hongjoong, breathing low into his ear to make him shiver. He reached a hand out, urging Hongjoong to hop atop the podium. "Come, let's take a look at you."

He could do nothing but let himself be led, cautiously stepping up onto the surface. He was a little taller than Seonghwa now even with those deadly heels, but the advantage still couldn't help him to ignore the sound of his heart beating in his ears. Seonghwa was suddenly shedding his large suit jacket and removing his waistcoat, placing them on a nearby hook, and smoothing out non-existent creases over them in a way that brought attention to his hands.

But it wasn't just the fluid movement of the fingers causing distraction; relieved of his large jacket, Hongjoong could finally take in the slim, taut silhouette of Seonghwa's waist. The way that crisp, white shirt disappeared into the wide belt of fabric around his torso, the way it pulled in all the right places across his back, accentuating a faint curve at the hip before those wide pants cast a long mirage. It was a bodyline that made Hongjoong's fingers flex into anxious fists.

From another hook on the wall, Seonghwa removed a long, wooden metre stick, the kind that would be used for taking measurements across arms and shoulders. He tapped it against his palm with light slaps as he turned back to survey his model. Every soft clap of wood against skin sent anticipation roiling through Hongjoong's stomach, especially at the creeping smirk that was now c@cking Seonghwa's lips.

"Shall we get to work?" he asked, voice dripping with intent. "Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself, so I can get to know you better?"

Hongjoong could feel the intensity in Seonghwa's gaze, almost like an analysis, as he took slow, measured steps around him. Those dark, brown eyes raked the length of his torso and Hongjoong couldn't help but feel like a subject on show. If this was what animals in zoos felt like, he would swear never to visit one again, although the fire that was beginning to burn inside him jaded his judgement.

Seonghwa's eyes were like lasers, piercing through every layer of fabric. Even when he stepped out of sight, Hongjoong could see the man's reflection in the sea of mirrors, eyes searching deep for something they couldn't yet find. A predator circling his prey couldn't have been a more perfect metaphor, because Hongjoong was already feeling himself be devoured. His own reflection only stared back at him in a combination of l@st-filled uncertainty.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But as he inhaled, Hongjoong nearly choked on his breath at the wooden metre stick pushing between his knees. It urged his legs apart in parting slaps, the firmness of the wood pressing up his thigh towards the swell of his buttocks, brushing forwards against his perineum and the underside of his b@lls as it swiped. Hongjoong could feel heat instantly pooling in his abdomen at the friction of wood and fabric on his skin. It was suddenly getting hot in these clothes.

"What do you want to know?" he managed to stutter out.

Seonghwa laughed gently, removing the stick and continuing his parade back around to Hongjoong's front. He noted how cute the sudden blush across the man's cheeks was.

"Anything! How did you get to where you are? Any hobbies, likes? Favourite colour? Family? ...Partner?"

Hongjoong swallowed. Where the hell was one supposed to start with questions like that given the situation?

Seonghwa's presence was so beautifully overwhelming, a quiet force that was evaporating all reason, wrapping around him as he continued his slow circuit. His eyes were calculating, but there was something else in his gaze; something playfully wicked that told Hongjoong that this wasn't just about stripping him bare physically, but mentally too.

"My family work in law, too, it runs in all of us," Hongjoong tried his best to keep his voice steady at the wood slapping across the back of his thigh again, a little firmer this time. "I-It's all we've ever known, all I've ever known. My career is my life and... I've worked d@mn hard for it."

"Mmhmm, and...?" Seonghwa hummed.

Hongjoong took a breath, his brain racing over what he wanted to say. With every hit on his body, the pressure was intensifying, sending blood straight to his c@ck. An internal fight between the arousal stirring in his guts and trying to hold a normal conversation was raging hard. He could feel his shoulders and arms beginning to sheen with sweat under his clothes, he never got this fl@stered in his work suit ever. The slow tightening in his trousers was becoming bothersome under Seonghwa's watchful eyes.

"I'm usually quite busy, I don't get much time to myself, but I enjoy my work so..."

As Hongjoong spoke, Seonghwa continued to smack the measuring stick against his leg, his back, his chest, through his clothes it left pockets of friction and heat in places he'd never thought possible. Coming full circle back around to the front again, Seonghwa shoved the wood straight back between Hongjoong's legs, pushing it firmly up into his c@ck. A gasp fell from his mouth at the feeling as Seonghwa began to smoothly knead at his growing erection with the polished surface of stick.

"So...?" he lifted an eyebrow, urging Hongjoong to continue.

But he would be d@mned if he could. Between the stick and his hardening c@ck, Hongjoong nearly struggled to feel where the wood began or ended. "S-so... I guess I go out... sometimes. Client meetings. That kind of thing."

Seonghwa tutted, giving a long, hard drag of the stick up against the seam of where Hongjoong's trousers sat between his ass cheeks. "Hmm, okay, so you have family, you love your job a little too much, you never go out... favourite colour?"

"Red..."

"Just red?"

Another hard pull and the stick was dragged out from between Hongjoong's legs, pressing tension all the way underneath him as it did. "...And maybe yellow," he added with a wistful sigh.

Seonghwa moved closer, looking up at Hongjoong's flushed face with want. From this angle, Hongjoong realised what it was like to gaze down upon such beauty. He wanted to badly to dip down and take Seonghwa's lips in his, feeling dry and craving that touch again, but just because he was above him now didn't mean he was in control. He would learn this before his undressing was done, and it began with Seonghwa dropping the stick to reach up and pull Hongjoong's jacket from his shoulders.

"It's like I knew you suited reds," Seonghwa couldn't help but be proud of himself as he let the jacket unceremoniously fall to, and stay on, the floor this time. "Partner?"

Hongjoong felt Seonghwa's practiced hands move up once again to his neck, undoing his tie, but this time they didn't stop in their movements once the strips of silk laid open. With casual intimacy, fingers brushed over the collar of Hongjoong's shirt and the skin of his neck again like he so loved, hitching his breath in his throat as they unopened the first button, then the next, then the next.

"No partner..." Hongjoong confessed, trying not to let sadness tinge his response, though it came out more as desperation. He was sure Seonghwa would be able to hear his heart about to burst from his chest.

Seonghwa's hands moved agonisingly slowly, undoing one button at a time, exposing inch by inch of glistening skin until he was licking his lips. At reaching Hongjoong's pecs, Seonghwa pulled apart the folds of the shirt, surveying the peek of porcelain skin beneath.

"Pity... you work too hard, Hongjoong," he sighed with a pleased smile, continuing down to open the last buttons. "Always pushing, always trying to do too much. And now you're wound up too tight."

The sight of Seonghwa moving lower down his body was sending Hongjoong spiralling. His erection was so clearly straining against his suit trousers, with Seonghwa's hands moving closer and closer to the waistband. His fingers trailing down the exposed skin of his chest was so achingly torturous, the man had fire in his palms the way Hongjoong's body was flooding with heat.

"You need to let go sometimes, relax," Seonghwa continued, finally fully flinging the folds of the shirt open to take in the sight of Hongjoong's torso.

Seonghwa was impressed.Even with his clothes on Hongjoong seemed slim and toned beneath the suit, but the shadowed outline of his stomach muscles was pencil like, sharp in line and definition. The low-slung folds of his trousers just about covered the jut of his hip bones, but the top of a deep v-line gave everything away. How lucky. This man was delightful, and Seonghwa had to stop himself from losing all decorum.

He leaned forwards to press his mouth against where the waistband of those trousers hugged Hongjoong's abdomen, breath and lips ghosting over skin and fabric alike until soft gasps were falling from above him. Seonghwa pressed a kiss just at the point where a faint shadow of hair was peeping out, tempting in its trail. The press of Hongjoong's bulging c@ck digging against his throat was so f@ck@ng hot, straining and growing damp in its restraints.

If he stayed there long enough, kissing across Hongjoong's torso, so close yet so far, he imagined that that leaking prec@m would begin to show a wet patch through the fabric. God, the things he wanted to do all at once, but there had to be method to the madness. He was a professional with a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Sh@t..." Hongjoong murmured at Seonghwa's lips brushing over this clothed erection, adding unnecessary tingling to the arousal gripping him.

Seonghwa pulled back in self-restraint, smiling at how Hongjoong's fingers were threading through his hair. He was so cute, so predictable. "Just know that here you don't have to be in control, you know. You can just... be. Just for tonight, let me help you."

Hongjoong swallowed hard, his pulse quickening under the weight of Seonghwa's words and his electrifying stare. He was so used to be the one who directed, a senior member of the company who people had to listen to, the one who planned and perfected every detail. But under this tailor's addictive, measured touch, he felt himself unravelling; falling apart at every seam.

Seonghwa stood up taller to push the open shirt and tie from Hongjoong's shoulders, letting them join the jacket on the floor. He let Seonghwa unbutton his trousers and pull down the zip, shifting his unsteady legs so that he could pull them slowly down and off. Even his socks and shoes came off along the way for good measure, feeling the cool wood of the podium under his feet.

With every piece of clothing that left him, Hongjoong felt more exposed and defenceless, but for reasons he couldn't ascertain. Whether it was the intensity of the experience or knowing his deepest anxieties had been aired, he was a mess of emotions for the first time in his adult life.

He almost felt like his vision was spotting when Seonghwa's thumbs hooked into the elastic of his boxers and dragged them down his thighs. His erection finally sprung free from its confines, nearly aching, crying out for touch and leaking with desperation. Hongjoong felt momentary relief at the wash of fresh air on his hot skin, hoping it would quell his passions enough to last the night, but it was folly under Seonghwa drinking in the sight of him with those eyes.

"Oh, honey..." Seonghwa let out a low whistle as he stood back to admire his model. "You are just ravishing."

This was going to be the best fitting of his life.

Seonghwa was as detailed and as precise as he would be measuring any client, though there was electricity reserved in his hands just for this one. With practiced mastery, Seonghwa took in every inch of Hongjoong's now naked body.His fingertips brushed over trembling thigh muscles under the spotlights, the curve of ribs and shoulders in shadows. Lithe hands worked across Hongjoong's chest, pinching his nipples into hardened nubs and eliciting the sweetest moans, especially when those fingers were replaced with tongue and teeth. Seonghwa trailed fire down his firm stomach and back to his groin, though he teased him with only soft tickles around the base of his heavy, pointed c@ck.

Seonghwa couldn't help but bite his lip. Hongjoong's length was delectable in all its glory. Not too big, not too small, cut perfectly with just the right amount of girth and framed by a very neat thatch of hair. His b@lls hung spectacularly heavy between his slim thighs, the skin smooth and nearly taut with desperate pressure. Seonghwa had to resist the urge to reach out and cup them, just dying to feel the weight of them hot in his palm.

It was little wonder, the tailor mused, how Hongjoong hid everything so well in those suit trousers, considering how well he had filled out. Seonghwa noticed Hongjoong's hands twitching at his sides, almost desperate to grab at his c@ck and relieve some strain, but he kept them in place under the tailor's silent command. Instead, prec@m beaded at the swollen head, flushed pink and almost threatening to drip, begging to be smeared down that length.

Hongjoong was the absolute epitome of the perfect model, captivated under the physical and visual touches until his eyes were fluttering shut with stunted breaths. His body was so well sculpted, so smooth, so well-trimmed and taken care of; it amused Seonghwa some, for considering what Hongjoong had said about being too busy, he certainly found time to take care of himself.

"Please, Seonghwa, can you touch me?" Hongjoong asked suddenly, desperately.

But the tailor only tutted gently. "No no, not like that yet. All in good time, you can't rush a masterpiece."

Despite the slow burn of anticipation, despite the rising heat and tension, Seonghwa's hands never wavered, they never hurried anything. It was as if they had all the time in the world to make Hongjoong see just how much he needed this one, long moment of surrender.

Hongjoong could feel a drop of sweat roll down his temple, catching on his cheekbone as his head dipped to watch Seonghwa's movements. The tailor was unfastening the top buttons of his own shirt and pulling his tie down, loosening the cuffs on his sleeves so that he could peel them up in a bid to start work. He bent smoothly to pick up the discarded metre stick and, tool in hand, began his final assessment.

The weight of Seonghwa's steps on the surveying circle felt heavier somehow this time, his eyes more laser focussed and determined. This time there was more intensity, as if the removal of Hongjoong's layers had shifted something unspoken between them. Yet with sleeves now rolled up just enough to reveal the veins of his forearms, Hongjoong was subtly reminded of the strength beneath Seonghwa's elegant control.

The tailor tapped the stick against his palm, his gaze burning over Hongjoong’s body, tracing the lines of his shoulders, the dip of his waist, the heaviness of his c@ck, the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. The quiet scrutiny was unbearable. Hongjoong was acutely aware of every inch of his exposed skin, the helplessness of standing there, waiting as Seonghwa moved in slow, deliberate circles around the podium. He daren't look at his reflection in any of the mirrors around him, terrified of witnessing his own compulsion.

Seonghwa's voice was low and almost hypnotic as he hummed in satisfaction. "You're so tense here," he murmured, using the stick to trace lightly across the back of Hongjoong's shoulders, then down his spine. "Always trying to do more. Put your hands on your head."

Hongjoong complied, shivering as he threaded his own hands into his hair. His teeth sank into his lip to stifle a low moan, the feel of the wood on his body was so much more agonising now that it was in direct contact with his burning skin. It trailed electricity in its wake down his spine to the cleft of his ass, patting lightly over his buttocks. The taps were gentle at first, but then increased in pressure.

"How's your pain threshold, love?" Seonghwa questioned curiously.

Hongjoong knew he had spent too long thinking about it, the heavy air in the room had already doubled with tension. He daren't catch the mirrors, despite only physically feeling the flat of the meter stick against his buttocks. Seonghwa's predatory gaze was burning, it would chew him apart. He knew what was coming, and certainly knew he wasn't strong enough to watch what was about to unfold. His groin was already pulsing with anticipated arousal, adding to the sexual frustration washing through him.Hongjoong swallowed dryly, the question still hanging in the air like a challenge. "I can handle more than you think," he managed to say, though his voice came out perhaps more like a purr. He could feel Seonghwa grin behind him.

"Good. Take a breath."

Despite the warning, Hongjoong didn't have enough time to fill his lungs before the first hit landed. Seonghwa pulled back hard on the stick, striking the muscle of his right ass cheek so hard it instantly bloomed red. Hongjoong cried as his torso tipped forward on curled toes, gripping his hair tightly at the pain that flooded through his entire body.

"F@ck! F-f@ck..." he gasped.

The throb on his skin and muscle was so painful, yet so uncomfortably good. Hongjoong couldn't help but feel like the administration had ripped off a bandage, helped a cup full of inhibitions spill over, awakening his senses to a whole new program of emotions that did nothing but ebb into pleasure. The prec@m that had been threatening to spill from the head of his c@ck finally dripped off onto the podium, pushed out by a fresh gush that leaked out and down his shaft.

Seonghwa's hand reached out to touch lightly over the fresh mark, before gently massaging the pain away and chuckling softly to himself. "Wow, you took that so well, baby."

Hongjoong’s throat tightened, his nerves frayed but crying out for the elation to continue. "More. Again," he nearly pleaded.

Seonghwa grinned, pulling back the stick once more and sending it whooshing through the air. The wood smacked Hongjoong's left buttock with a sharp crack, creating an almost similar, long, red mark instantly across the curve. The smaller man cried out again, but his knees had braced for more of the impact this time, helping him keep upright whilst his toes screwed painfully again.

Hongjoong let out a stuttered moan along with the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. His body was alight, his d@ck felt like it was throbbing more than the fresh strike mark on his skin, becoming almost regrettably upset from the lack of touch.

God, why did it feel so f@ck@ng good?

"Again."

In what could only be described as a reversed turn of events, actions that were designed to cause pain were only causing Hongjoong such a thrilling, raw excitement that he'd never experienced before. Every inch of his body from his face down to the base of his c@ck were gripped with pleasure over the sore ache of the strikes.

The requested stick came up again silently, this time unexpectedly hitting the back of Hongjoong's right thigh and sending his knee buckling. Thank god he had just sucked in a breath that could steady his torso, because that was a different kind of electric pain.

The hit to his thigh felt much sharper than the meat of his ass, almost grounding him to the agony instead of enhancing the pleasure. He didn't realise his eyes had slammed shut to the pain of that hard smack until tears were squeezing from between his eyelids. It took a few seconds longer this time for his c@ck to finish leaking.

Seonghwa's lips were soothing on the back of Hongjoong's thigh. Whilst he steadied his chest, the feel of that plush mouth kissing and humming over the sore bruise was angelic, like their master hadn't just caused the overwhelming damage on Hongjoong's being. His hot tongue lapping over the skin administered soothing heat that made Hongjoong whimper, made him weak, made him want more of whatever this feeling was grabbing his heart and his c@ck.

"You are so delicious," Seonghwa cooed in between kisses, sucking gently on the marks like they weren't already red enough. "I have to admit, I'm a little obsessed."

In a second Hongjoong knew it was there again, the control, it just didn't belong to him; it all belonged to a mysterious stranger named Park Seonghwa. A beautiful siren who had tipped a terrible day on its head in the most astounding way. A man who had shown Hongjoong more pleasure in one undressing than he was sure anyone ever could in a lifetime.

A terrible man whose mouth was suddenly gone, and was replacing comfort with piercing torture.

The wood struck Hongjoong's other thigh harder than before, just below the crease where his ass met the muscle of his thigh, sending a hot burn cascading down the entire length of his leg. This time Seonghwa reached out to grab Hongjoong's hip and steady him from behind. He was secretly thankful, knowing he may just have crumpled to the podium with the painful stimulation that was abruptly clutching his body. Tears ran the length of his cheeks, blending with the sweat that had been pooling around his chin and neck. He wanted to sob, but the overarching conflict between pleasure and pain had him stunned.

Hongjoong was aware of how out of character he felt, his thoughts a whirlwind of clashing emotions that rendered him breathless and unsure. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, each throb echoing the softness and surrender he had shown in response to Seonghwa's actions. But excitement surged through him in waves, electric and almost overwhelming. Seonghwa’s sexual weapon and touch lingered on every inch of his ass and thighs.

Beneath all the thrill, there was a confusion Hongjoong couldn't quite silence; a part of him that wasn’t used to this level of yield. He was supposed to be a strong figure, always decisive, always confident in his next move. He had begun today in a professional suit, talking business like a pro and suffering through boring meetings, yet now every single one of his inhibitions and his naked body were on display.

Up until tonight he had still been that steadfast person, he had still been Kim Hongjoong, Senior Solicitor with a personality and reputation to uphold. How it had crumbled so quickly as a result of a dishevelled tie was the stuff that history books would sing of. Perhaps this wasn't just a new, sexually charged rush, it wasn't just a craved beating under terribly wonderful circ@mstances, it was a change to the person Hongjoong had always known.

In this small room, so vulnerable, so unable to acknowledge his own reflection, Seonghwa’s careful, calculated administering was altering the very being that Hongjoong had built. He might be a legal leader, but Hongjoong certainly wasn’t planning the next step now or dictating the flow. Seonghwa was pulling him out of his carefully crafted routine and into something entirely unfamiliar yet breathtakingly appealing.The mix of fear and excitement made Hongjoong's heart race so loud he was sure Seonghwa could feel it. He felt raw, exposed in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. His body responded to Seonghwa’s actions, his closeness, the heat of his breath against the tarnished skin.

Hongjoong's mind could only wonder how far would Seonghwa push him?

Even in the haze of his internal turmoil, there was a deep, undeniable want. A strong need. A part of him that knew he'd needed this in the monotony of his life. He always longed for the next challenge at work, the next client with a sack full of requests and problems, yet now he only ached for the challenge Seonghwa posed.

He had never felt this kind of anticipation before, like the tension was building with every second, every teasing strike, every hum and word of appreciation that fell from Seonghwa's lips. It was only a matter of time before it snapped. And as much as his logical side screamed to get the control back, a more primal instinct whispered in his other ear to just let it happen, to just let go this once.

Hongjoong wanted this.

Seonghwa's hand was kneading at the flesh of his buttocks gently, fingers walking close enough to the crack of his ass to send tempting spikes of pleasure shooting into groin. Hongjoong didn't realise how hard he was pulling his own hair until his scalp began to ache; nothing had been able to rise above the desperation throbbing in his hard c@ck. The base of his length was radiating violent need deep into his b@lls with every hit of that wood.

"Is that enough, love?" Seonghwa's breath puffed across Hongjoong's back, making his shoulders twitch.

Enough?

Maybe now it could never be enough.

He wanted Seonghwa to test him, he needed to be pushed past the boundaries he hadn't even known existed, everything that had been ignored. He wanted the reversal, to be the client and Seonghwa the leader. But the unknown, the sheer unpredictability of Seonghwa’s intentions, left him teetering on the edge of something entirely new. And despite the uncertainty, he found himself leaning into it, wanting whatever came next.

"You have to give me more, please," he sighed, letting his eyes push the last of his tears out as they fluttered shut again.

Seonghwa didn't need any further encouragement.

Hongjoong felt the man's body shift to the side, winding his free arm across the front of his body in support. It terrified him slightly, anticipating that the force of the final hit was going to put out his legs in such a way. His stomach was bubbling, waiting for the connection of the wood to his tender skin, but it never came then. Hongjoong wanted to open his eyes to see what was happening, but almost daren't.

He heard the soft clatter of the stick falling to the floor, noisy even on the carpet, before feeling Seonghwa's other hand pressing against his back. The tailor urged his body forwards and over the arm around his waist to stand him at an angle, helping that pink, peachy behind to jut outwards.

Oh, f@ck.

No wonder Seonghwa rolled his sleeves up.

The loud crack of pure skin on skin was deafening over Hongjoong's heart in his ears. The impact of Seonghwa's palm across his buttocks made him moan so loudly once the few curse words he'd found had been lost. The angled position of his body made sure that the pain was so much deeper on his skin now that his ass cheeks were pulled full and taut.

"Ah-! Oh, god...!" When Hongjoong found his voice finally he felt like he couldn't formulate the words he needed.

The initial shock of the slap had made Hongjoong's eyes fling back open; he couldn't help but finally stare at the wonderful abuse his body was taking. A flushed, pink face, shining eyes and wet cheeks met him. Underneath the spotlights, this presentation of a human being almost didn't look like him; naked and ruined, hair askew, allowing such a beautiful, l@st embezzled predator to grin at his most intimate features. Hongjoong saw his own eyebrows furrow and mouth drop in a silent 'o' as he watched Seonghwa draw his arm up high.

Another strong slap hit his ass, then another, two, three, four more, Hongjoong lost count after five.He saw his wrecked reflection was crying, his body lurching forwards with every strike, but it didn't match the pleasure that was plummeting into his abdomen. His aching, weeping c@ck hung heavy between his torso and his legs, but every spank against his body helped it beat against his stomach. Even that slightest of actions helped to relieve the soul-destroying need for touch that Hongjoong so desperately needed.

With every hit heat was quickly building deep within him, fast hurtling him towards the edge of an @rg@sm that Hongjoong had long forgotten the feel of. Seonghwa held his body weight firmly in place, so considerately strong and precise that it allowed him to feel every punishing blow without falling.

Soon the tailor noticed how Hongjoong's moans were growing louder and more desperate, how his knees began to buckle and his thighs shake under his hand. He stilled his arm for a moment, letting the sound of Hongjoong's ragged breaths please his ears whilst he rubbed the abused flesh of his backside.

Seonghwa couldn't help but smirk at the pattern of bruising, blushing strike marks he had left on Hongjoong's perfectly milky skin. "See, my love, you do suit red," he sang happily.

Hongjoong wanted to laugh dryly in reply, but took the time to catch his breath instead as he fell back from the edge. Everything felt like a blur. His body, usually so responsive and quick to menial day-to-day tasks, now ached in ways he'd never felt until this moment. The adrenaline from earlier, the spark of excitement and anticipation, everything was still as apparent as it had been, but underneath it all now lurked a growing sense of surrender.

He let Seonghwa slowly pull his torso up to a standing position again, though his knees unsurprisingly finally gave out as he did. Sweating and feeling a little jelly-like as he recovered from his beating, he was thankful that Seonghwa was vigilant enough to catch him. He made Hongjoong yelp in surprise as he hoisted his body up into the air, scooping him bridal style off the podium that had changed him and towards the large sofa.

"Are you with me, Hongjoong?" Seonghwa asked, leaning down press a kiss to the cheek that was lolled against his shoulder. "Just nod if you're too stunned for words."

"Ha, @ssh@l@."

Hongjoong really did laugh this time, letting out a low chuckle as he was deposited gently in all his naked glory on the sofa. As soon as sore ass hit the soft, crushed velvet cushions he nearly sighed in relief. His body was cooling under the realisation of the event that had just happened, so the comfortable fabrics on his throbbing skin were most welcome.

He shifted on the fabric, trying to find the best position to deal with both his abused backside and his soaking erection. It didn't matter really, every ounce of pressure either teased his ass or put pressure on his sensitive b@lls, so he laid back in defeat.

After a moment, his muscles slowly began to unclench. He wasn’t sure what was coming next but he didn’t need to know. His body ached for both rest and release, and for once, he was ready to let it happen. Seonghwa obviously knew what he needed, he could read him like a book without even opening the covers and Hongjoong didn’t have the energy to question it anymore. He was done overthinking. He was done with control. For now, he just wanted Seonghwa to do whatever needed to be done.

The tailor never stopped smiling, stepping to a drawer behind the sofa quickly and pulling out a silken robe and a small, black washbag. He urged Hongjoong forwards a second, leaning over close to drape the material around his shoulders and back. The smaller man exhaled gently through his nose, relishing in the comfort the gown brought to his recovering body.

In an atmospheric shift, Hongjoong felt so safe and warm, so taken care of. It was such a beautiful feeling, one that Hongjoong couldn't remember having experienced. Had any partner ever cared for him this way? He couldn't recall. His brain only flashed through memories of quick f@cks, one-night stands and arguments over work and life.

Seonghwa removed several tissues from the washbag, patting away the last of the tears and sweat that were nestled on Hongjoong's face. The tailor's eyes were strong with concern but his smile so loving and warm.

"How are you feeling now?" Seonghwa whispered. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing Hongjoong’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I've never been hit like that before, or... well, ever," he admitted quietly, turning his face to nose at Seonghwa's cheek. He breathed in deeply at the diluting scent of his perfume, letting the familiarity aid his healing. "It was a lot. Uh... intense. I don't think I'll forget that in a hurry."

"I figured. Don't worry, you can relax now."

Well, whatever that meant.

Hongjoong’s mental exhaustion was starting to settle in, a deep, bone-weary fatigue that had nothing to do with anything physical. It was the kind of tiredness that came from always being switched on, always pushing to be the best, always needing to handle everything way too flawlessly. The weight of responsibility always hung so heavy on Hongjoong's shoulders. Yet, ever since he'd stepped foot into this boutique, the constant pressure of keeping up appearances, making decisions, planning and arguing, it had all disappeared into something so sensually unexpected, but most welcome.

"Is this how you always treat your clients?" Hongjoong asked with a sly grin.

"Hmm... not all of them," Seonghwa said, curious as to where this was going. "I don't usually kiss and tell."

Secretive as well as seductive.

"Okay, fine. Can you just kiss me then?"

Seonghwa had to admire the newfound confidence in his model. It was worth the effort just to see how he was blooming beneath his touches, and the tailor always took proud relish in seeing his work pull off. Seonghwa took Hongjoong's chin in his fingers, tipping his face up slightly to give him the best access to that increasingly confident mouth.

When their lips met this time, it was instantly different to before. The desperate pushing that had dominated their first kiss was replaced with curious want. Seonghwa's silken lips were like medicine to Hongjoong's smarting body, soon helping him forget the ache in his skin. He kissed so slowly, so sensually, it was almost filthy, taking in every millimetre of Hongjoong's lips until he was sighing contentedly.

He opened his mouth willingly to Seonghwa's tongue, letting it slide across his and over the insides of his cheeks. Hongjoong could still taste coffee in Seonghwa's mouth, his saliva was infused with it. God, it seemed like a lifetime ago that they were sat in that bar, willing away stressful days and indulging in chance meetings.

As Seonghwa pulled back, he nipped on Hongjoong's lower lip and tickled his chin to grab his attention.

"When's the last time you came?" Seonghwa asked casually, making Hongjoong nearly choke on the abrupt question.

Pink washed across his cheeks. "Ah... It's been a while," he replied shyly.

In fact, he couldn't even remember the day. Or week... Month, even? Work had been so busy lately with the merger, it had been his entire life, pain and pleasure alike. Too stoic and closed off for a lovely partner, and too busy to even gratify himself. No wonder he was so stressed and tightly coiled up. It felt so dumb to be blushing in embarrassment at that, rather than the fact he was sat aroused and naked on a stranger's sofa.

Seonghwa's expression almost frowned with pity. "You poor thing. How would you like to c@m tonight?"

The question almost stunned Hongjoong with its bluntness, but the intent that dripped with Seonghwa's husky voice made his c@ck only throb harder in his lap. It was suddenly feeling spritely again with rushing blood.

"What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one, this is your night off, after all. And you did so well on that podium for me, love. I'm so impressed," Seonghwa purred, straightening up to survey Hongjoong's flushing body. "F@ck, I am so intrigued by you, you have such an enigmatic personality. How can I impress you back?"

Enigmatic?

Hongjoong blinked, still trying to wrap his mind around Seonghwa’s words. The confusion was evident on his face, furrowing his brow as he tried to reconcile the mental euphoria threatening him with the strange pull of Seonghwa’s attention.

And the more Hongjoong thought about it, the more he knew there couldn't possibly be anything that Seonghwa could do to make him think better. He called Hongjoong enigmatic but, holy hell, that was definitely Seonghwa and not him. He was beautiful, so alluring, so confident in his life and his actions that if anything it made Hongjoong jealous. He couldn't imagine being able to live life in such a way, running with the wind and losing control to desire on a whim. It was already exhilarating, and Hongjoong knew this was merely a taste of such a life.

"Impress me?" Hongjoong echoed, his voice a little quieter, sultry. "Okay... I've told you a little about me, why don't you tell me about you? Maybe that will help me decide how I want you."

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stepped away, his movements were deliberate and calm. "As you wish," he sang.The tailor’s hand tapped on his chin in mock thought, almost nodding to himself in acknowledgment before he jumped onto the podium himself. His long palazzo trousers rippled around him as he moved so deftly, almost with the grace of a gymnast. The heels of his boots clicked happily on the wood when he stood tall in presentation to his audience.

From this position, the podium, the sofa, the obscene walls of mirrors... everything made sense. The way Seonghwa's figure reflected three-fold with stunning poise, the spotlights highlighting his sharp, beautiful features and the lines of his torso. Front, side, back, he could see every aspect. It was a breath-taking seat, perfect for watching any sexual fashion show.

Hongjoong knew it had been voyeuristic from the start, and the full view he had of Seonghwa's body put any front row ticket to shame.

The tailor was a silent menace. He stood there in all his beauty, dragging his hands up his own waist, pulling the fabric of his shirt taut across his chest and wrapping around his exposed neck. His fingers ran up into his long hair, tousling it a little before working back down his stomach, abdomen, and palming at his clothed groin whilst he locked eyes with Hongjoong across the carpet.

"Let's make this more fun, shall we?" he proposed, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "I want to see you touch yourself whilst I talk, show me how you make yourself feel good. But don't c@m," he wagged a finger with a smirk, "that's not allowed."

Hongjoong's breath caught in his throat. The entirety of his stomach had been swirling, his eyes fixed on watching Seonghwa slowly tease his hands up and down his own body. He had been so captivated that he initially doubted what he had heard. However, Seonghwa's raised eyebrows, urging nod, and paused actions only served to confirm that he had indeed heard right.

The sudden shift in dynamic made Hongjoong feel apprehensive, though he couldn't fathom why he felt that way. Had the little time he'd spent in Seonghwa's presence really affected him that much? That now the tailor was putting him back in control, it made him nervous to take it?

The susceptibility felt strange, yet only for a moment. That newly awakened part of him wanted so badly to please his new dominator, to impress Seonghwa again the way he had apparently done so on that podium. The trepidation that had surfaced soon disappeared just as quickly under Seonghwa's eyes.

Hongjoong didn't resist, relaxing back against the cushy sofa pillows and spreading his legs open wide. He sighed at the feel of the crushed velvet brushing underneath his b@lls again, the folds of the silk gown falling apart to leave his glowing c@ck on display for them both to take in.

Whilst only semi-erect now after a short respite, Hongjoong was certain it wouldn't take long to be back in business. As soon as he reached down and took the base of his c@ck in his right hand, squeezing at his length tentatively with a gasp, he could already feel blood and l@st rushing back through his body under Seonghwa's knowing smirk.

"You better get a move on then," Hongjoong said dryly, tongue darting out to wet at his dry lips.

Seonghwa wasted no time, clocking on to his desperation. He moved with an effortless grace, slipping his hands behind his back like a craftsman working with precision. Whilst his fingers worked the ties of the large belt restricting his waist, he unravelled his own story.

"It may surprise you to know that tailoring does not run in my family, the same way that law does in yours... nor does my family have anything to do with the fashion industry, or design," he began almost sadly. "In fact, my immediate family have always dealt in PR, particularly international. Per chance, you may have heard the name Park & Sons PR at some point within your line of work."

The wide sash finally tumbled down on to the podium, almost leaving Seonghwa to breath freely out of its confines. Hongjoong breathed in shakily at the lines of those hips, letting his hand work up the length of his c@ck the same way it would that silhouette. He massaged over the head slowly, feeling electricity bolting through his stomach and settling in his abdomen.

Seonghwa was already untucking his shirt from the waistband of his trousers and making a start on the buttons, giving ever increasing peaks of his honeyed skin and toned shoulders. It was some kind of slow, visual torture.

"Yeah, I have heard that name," Hongjoong muttered, sucking in a breath whilst he dipped his thumb into his own slit, encouraging a new flow of prec@m. "Why didn't you go into that work? You'd make a stunning PR manager."

Park & Sons PR.

Hongjoong was surprisingly familiar with the name. Although he had not worked with the company directly, several of his senior colleagues had lamented late into their office nights about how difficult the work was with such a nationally big establishment. The Park's company represented a multitude of international celebrities and rich people that all had connections to their country. However, it was all a far cry from the more business focussed, financial work that Hongjoong usually dealt with

As well as wealthy, there was a certain amount of prestige and reputation that followed the Park's company. Though there was usually no smoke without fire, no involvement without drama, police reports and bail outs. It often led to Paradigm's legal advice services being requested on more than one occasion, owing to their efficient and successful win rates. Now that Hongjoong thought briefly about it, it did make sense as to why he'd never heard Seonghwa's name playing on his colleagues' lips if he wasn’t involved.

Seonghwa had undone his shirt down to his stomach in the most sensationally sexual way, making Hongjoong glance curiously at what he thought were flashes of extra material, something lightly coloured, through the opening folds. Seonghwa's eyes seemed a little unreadable as held Hongjoong's, though he was so enraptured by the sight of the other man taking him in this way. Like a sponge soaking up too much water until it was saturated.

Seonghwa was barely done with the buttons on his shirt and yet his own insides were bubbling, fascinated watching Hongjoong slowly tease his hardening c@ck over his show. Knowing he could still produce this effect on his audience was more satisfying than anything, it made everything he had every worked for worth it.

"Regretfully, my family no longer want to know me," Seonghwa continued, finishing the last button. "The wonderful empire they built, the image they portray... it's all b@llsh@t. I couldn't stand the rigidity of it all, the office culture and politics. My parents swore disappointment at me and so I took flight." The last confines of his shirt were pulled from the waistband with a smile. "I spent years abroad in Europe, immersing myself in fashion culture, opening my eyes to the person I could be rather than what they wanted me to be. I learned to love myself, but they hate who I am, and who I always will be. But now I won't change for anyone..."

Hongjoong wanted to ask what he meant, but he didn't need to. As Seonghwa shrugged off his crisp, white dress shirt, Hongjoong couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's chest. He had been right in spying something secret nestled underneath the cotton and instantly felt his c@ck set on fire, transfixed on the spot.

Resting gently and beautifully over Seonghwa's chest was a lacy, baby pink bralette.

The flowery patterns of the triangles sat prettily on his ribs, covering his nipples only enough to make it a tease; the dark, brown circles and honeyed pecs highlighted a beautiful background underneath the pink lace patterns. A silky, scalloped trim ran the length of the bottom and all around his back, shining underneath the spotlights and accentuating the deep rib lines they hugged.

The tailor's torso was so slim, so taut, with defined abdominal tracks that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. With no br@@sts as such to fill out such a garment, the bralette provided such an intricate shadow on his chest. It made Seonghwa's waist and hips look so feminine, it enhanced the curve of his shoulders under the pink straps, and the colour blew up the shy blush on his cheeks.It was so gorgeous. He was so gorgeous. A most wonderful display of both masculine and feminine traits.

It all made so much sense.

They way Seonghwa's own hands reached to drag across the lace on his chest, the glee in his own eyes at the feel of the fabric, the confidence he exuded. Seonghwa was so happy in his own skin and Hongjoong had never seen anything like it in his life. His self-certainty was palpable, radiating from him in waves. It wasn't the loud, overbearing presence of someone trying desperately to dominate a room, it was the steady, self-assured calm of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Someone who knew what they wanted, and who didn't need to prove it to anyone, at least not anymore.

Hongjoong could do nothing but watch and drag his hand up and down his c@ck, slickening it up, slowly driving wildfire through his body at the spectacle before him. Despite modern day society ever diversifying, the line between male and female genders still posed a problem for some. Hongjoong had had his fair share of encounters with both, usually uncaring of gender as long as they did the job they were hired to do. But this was a different kettle of fish entirely.

This was a beautiful man. Wearing beautiful lingerie that was not intended for him. And sh@t, he was loving it.Seonghwa pinched at his nipples through the material, eyebrows furrowing as his self-pleasure gripped him. Hongjoong noticed a more prominent bulge was threatening the front of those flowy trousers now, stretching the more Seonghwa teased his nipples into hard nubs that peeped through the lace, moaning gently under his own hands.

"F@ck, Seonghwa... I- I don't- you're so… beautiful," he breathed.

"Thank you... it's a shame my family don't think the same, love," Seonghwa replied, dropping his hands to his trousers. "The day I came out to them they called me filthy, embarrassing, a f@ck@ng disgrace. They told me to take it all back or I could never be part of the family because, doesn't our gracious society know, that being gay is so wrong."

His words were so sad, yet so poignant. Hongjoong couldn't help but consider the tailor's heartache, how difficult it must have been to know your family didn't want you there because you couldn't help who you loved. Hongjoong didn't speak about love and relationships with his family; it was never appropriate talk when there were more interesting words to be had about the massive legal cases they had won.

Not that Hongjoong felt he ever had much to say about his love life anyway; being too busy usually put a stop to that. But if he had ever had anything to say, what would his family think... would they do exactly the same? How long could he keep anything a secret from them if he ever had to?

How sad indeed...

It made Hongjoong ponder as Seonghwa continued, but not too much. A few neat twists and he had loosened the fastenings at his hips. It was clear that the waistband of those palazzo trousers was the only thing holding them up on his slim form, because, as soon as they were free, they tumbled freely down Seonghwa's legs like a black waterfall. They bunched on the podium top neatly around his feet, but they could have been flying around the room and Hongjoong still wouldn't have taken any notice. His jaw was nearly dropping onto his chest.

"Wow..." he gasped.

Hidden beneath those trousers was another beautiful gift. The same soft baby pink lace and silk wove into an elegant thong that matched the bra Seonghwa was wearing. The way the tailor stood, hip c@cked, fingers running beneath the tight strings to pull them up and over his hipbones, he could have put any lingerie model to shame, and he did rightly so.

Hongjoong was stunned, his entire body was burning, mirroring the same fervour in the way he teased his own c@ck at the sight before him. This was the most stunning thing he'd ever seen. The most stunning man wearing the most stunning underwear. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Seonghwa's crotch, the silk pouch and lace trim covering his erection barely held it all in, but that made it just that little bit more mouth-watering.

The skin all around the trim and straps was shaved bare, enhancing the teasing outline of Seonghwa’s d@ck against the pink silk. The tailor's c@ck was big, perfectly shaped and so mysteriously delectable under that fabric. A small wet patch was forming towards the bottom where the neat shape of the head sat, turning the silk dark and indicating that Hongjoong wasn't just the only one enjoying all this. The strain of Seonghwa's arousal was pulling the flimsy fabric away from his groin, giving Hongjoong just a peak of the dappled, brown skin of his b@lls as the bottom of the thong ran thin.

F@ck. Nothing would ever look as good on anyone else again.

"This. This is why I do what I do, Hongjoong."

Seonghwa sighed dreamily as he continued to pull and snap the thong strings against his hips. He shed his boots and gave a slow twirl on the b@lls of his feet around on the podium, pausing to observe his own reflection in the mirrors. He made sure to let Hongjoong take in the sight of the lace disappearing down into his pert ass by pulling his fingers underneath his cheeks to spread them apart.

"Because this makes me feel so good, you know? Like I could take on the f@ck@ng world. And I hate that people are ostracised for wearing clothes that make them feel like that, like the world is out of their reach. I live to create garments that make people feel the same. And if they do then the path I took, all the people I lost, it was all worth it. This feeling is priceless."

For so long, Hongjoong's life had been a steady rhythm, full of structure and monotony. Day after day of planning, performing, everything had fallen into a cycle. Never-ending, never-changing, so rigid that a clock ticking could have organised his day with its continuance.

But tonight, in this quiet, intimate room, such a heavy shift had transpired. A chance stranger had shattered everything Hongjoong had ever considered normal. The way this angel looked at him, presented himself on that podium with his entire soul on display, so raw and unfiltered, was mesmerising against the sermon he spoke.It made everything feel new. Exciting. Unpredictable. Like Hongjoong had entered into a vision so wonderful there was no going back. It sent thrill tingling into his stomach alongside the l@st gripping him. And it wasn’t just Seonghwa’s beauty that left him stunned, with his sharp features softened by the spotlights and pink lace. It was his entire presence, his finesse, the way he made even the smallest tug of his lips feel significant. His hands toyed with lingerie that shouldn't suit him as the world commanded it to, yet it mattered not.

Seonghwa had pulled Hongjoong out of the repetition of his life and into a space that felt like an intense dream. His chest was tightening with the realisation that, until tonight, his eyes had been closed to a world of wonders. Feeling the pulse of something new coursing through him, he knew things would never be the same in his head.

"F@ck, get over here," Hongjoong beckoned with his free hand.

Seonghwa hopped off the podium with a grin, striding over to the sofa in order to climb into Hongjoong's lap. He straddled his crotch, allowing that bulge of pink lace to push down against his weeping, bare c@ck. The friction of the material grinding down over his sensitive skin nearly sent Hongjoong into orbit. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, administered by himself or otherwise. Trapped between his own stomach and Seonghwa's lacy erection, he could do nothing but let his d@ck smear precum over them both.

"What do you think, love?" Seonghwa cooed, taking Hongjoong's hands and placing his palms over the lace bra, a hand on each pec. "Is pink my colour?"

He let Hongjoong's hands explore the fabric in wonder, the same way his own had. He let him pull at the straps and rub at his nipples until his lip was between his teeth and his hips were rolling. It was such a marvel to behold.

"I think you suit any colour. I've never seen anyone wear anything like this," Hongjoong said in awe, loving the contrast of skin and lace beneath his fingertips. "Sh@t, no offense to your work, but you could be wearing a paper bag right now and I'd still want you to f@ck me just the same."

Seonghwa put a hand either side of Hongjoong's head on the back of the sofa to cage him in, his face lowering ever so seductively to his. "So, did you decide?" he asked with a whisper, letting his lips brush over Hongjoong's teasingly.

"Yes, and no," he replied almost breathless, "at this point I just need you to ruin me. Please. Before I explode."

That last snap of restraint was so wonderful and Seonghwa relished the thought. With a slow exhale, Hongjoong let go of the final thread of his resistance, his mind and body fully surrendering to the tailor, to this new chapter of his life. He was no longer the man who kept everything in perfect control, he was ready to dive headfirst into the unknown. To let Seonghwa guide him into a world of wonder that he could only have imagined in fantasies.

As Seonghwa stepped out of his lap and held a hand out to help him up, Hongjoong felt the weight of everything he knew lift from his shoulders. There was a quiet thrill of expectancy as the taller man led him to the nearest mirrored wall and stood them in front of it, covering his back in a weight that felt both safe and dangerous. Hongjoong didn't want to look at his reflection at first, but the urge that was gripping him made his flushed image more attractive. Especially with the beautiful tailor pressed behind him, chewing his lip at how desperately Hongjoong's c@ck strained for release.

Seonghwa tugged the silk robe from Hongjoong's shoulders and let it slip to the floor, kissing along his bare shoulders as it disappeared. Naked once again, with nothing in the way, Seonghwa ground his crotch forwards hard into the cleft of Hongjoong's ass. The sensation of that hard, lace covered erection teasing between the soft skin of his cheeks was astounding, it made his knees feel weak apart from knowing that Seonghwa's hands were on his hips.

"You've been hesitant to look at yourself in these mirrors, don’t think I haven’t noticed," Seonghwa said between kisses up Hongjoong's neck. "You have nothing to be scared of here, we have nothing to be ashamed of. I want you to watch yourself, watch us, make peace with who you are. Put your hands on the mirror."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told, leaning forwards under Seonghwa's instruction to plant his hands on the crystal surface. It was cool underneath his burning palms, though it did nothing to douse the anticipation bubbling away in his stomach. Seonghwa urged his body into a similar position as he had been in on the podium, leaning forwards with his ass jutting out, legs knocked apart and c@ck suspended achingly.

The tailor smiled to himself, rubbing a hand over the sore red and purple marks that littered Hongjoong's behind. His hands peeled apart those cheeks to reveal a tight hole that was suddenly fluttering under the cool air and Hongjoong's ragged breathing. It was so perfectly taut and puckered, just crying out to be given the same wonderful epiphany that his skin had.

Oh, Seonghwa's creative direction was flawless.His ability to see Hongjoong in a grander vision, to truly see him, was what made his direction so powerful. It wasn’t just about all that control; it was about connection. Each gesture, every carefully chosen word, it all built towards a bigger creation of intimacy that he knew left Hongjoong feeling this compulsion. He could feel the shift in the air every time he touched him, and he was so thrilled that Hongjoong followed without hesitation, trusting in Seonghwa’s flawless instinct to guide him through the most exquisite night of his life.

The tailor moved back to the sofa momentarily to retrieve a small bottle from the washbag. Hongjoong only heard the bottle lid pop behind him, he was transfixed on his own reflection like Seonghwa had asked, being the most obedient client he could be. He couldn't quite make out what he could see in his own eyes, behind the sweat that beaded his temples and stuck his hair to his skin.It was the most insane mixture of desperation, need and fright he thought he'd ever seen in a person, and it was so curious to know that it was all within himself. They were his own inquisitive brown eyes staring back at him, his own eyebrows that furrowed, his own lip that lodged between his teeth. Hongjoong was faced with the picture of his own vulnerability, and f@ck was it alarmingly beautiful. It could only gaze wondrously back at him, gasping slightly at a large glob of lube being squeezed between his buttocks.

"Breathe in."

The tailor's request came unexpected, but proceeded a loud gasp. Seonghwa pushed a cool, lubed up forefinger firmly into Hongjoong, those cheeks swallowing it up to the knuckle. He felt the muscles of Hongjoong's sphincter clenching and pulsing hard around it. Seonghwa's fingers were long and elegant, but felt so much bigger inside him, making Hongjoong grip against the mirror. The intrusion felt a little too sudden, though he cooed at the small circle motions Seonghwa was making as he stroked and lubed up his insides.

"Sh@t... warn me next time," he stuttered, hot breath fogging over the mirror.

Seonghwa chuckled. "I did! Okay, how's this, I'm putting another finger in now."

This time it didn't feel quite as intrusive. Hongjoong let out a moan when Seonghwa pushed another slippery finger in, this time in unison the digits felt a little more incredible. Seonghwa's fingers scissored at the tight muscle, flexing and loosening it up. It made Hongjoong push his ass backwards against them in desperate search of more. Seonghwa began to gently finger Hongjoong until he was rocking against his hand and his erection was back to weeping messily, narrowly avoiding his feet as it dripped.

"More, please. F@ck, Seonghwa," he couldn't help moaning.

Seonghwa couldn't help the grin on his lips. He obliged his receiver by dragging his fingers out a little, before plunging them forwards hard with a hooking motion, hitting that sweet spot dead on that Hongjoong had been desperately curious over. It sent his knees knocking with another whimper, but Seonghwa's free hand on his hip and the cold glass kept him up for another thrust of that deadly hand.

Hongjoong didn't need to ask for more, Seonghwa was already stuffing a third finger into him by the time he was losing his breath. He held a steady rhythm, pushing his ass back against Seonghwa's hand as he f@ck@d it into him, stretching him open and delighting his prostrate. The fire that was building in his abdomen was coming on way too quickly, it felt so f@ck@ng unreal, like nothing Hongjoong had ever felt before.

"Open your eyes, Hongjoong," Seonghwa chided.

But Hongjoong hadn't even registered they'd shut, relishing only in the all-encompassing feeling of pleasure washing through him. He focussed back on his own reflection, cheeks pink, eyes l@st-filled, watching his own body rocking backwards into Seonghwa's hand. The tailor's mouth was dropped open, his beautiful features laced with concentration as he worked. Hongjoong thought he might lose it.

The sight of his own c@ck hanging heavy between his legs, untouched, frustrated for release and making a mess on that gorgeous carpet was just the wildest thing. It was like watching the obscenest p@rn@gr@phy, except he could feel every movement, every sordid sensation because he was a part of it.

Seonghwa was stunned by the long line of Hongjoong's spine as it arched against his fingers on the final thrusts. Hongjoong was everything Seonghwa had hoped for and more, such a perfect model. And of course, not just because of his wonderful appearance, but because of his willingness to submit. Seonghwa couldn’t help but be enamoured, not only with the result of his direction but with Hongjoong himself. He was going to f@ck him to a completion he would remember for the rest of his life.

Seonghwa's fingers quickly slipped out of Hongjoong with a soft squelch, allowing him to pull his body up flush against his for a moment whilst he caught his breath. He could feel Hongjoong's heart hammering through the back of his ribs and every beat thrilled him. The beads of sweat beginning to spot his back soaked into the pink lace bra, heightening the sensation of the material between them both. Seonghwa felt flashes of pleasure on his nipples at the friction.

The tailor's eyes roamed over Hongjoong’s body in the mirror's reflection to take in every detail, from the shadowed lines of his pecs down to his abdomen, his delightful c@ck pronounced from those slim thighs, he noticed every subtle shift on his toes. Desire was suddenly ensnaring him.

Under the spotlights, Hongjoong looked ethereal. His skin now glowed with a flushed hue under that delicate sheen of sweat as if he had been crafted for this exact moment. His willingness to trust and follow had transformed him into the perfect canvas to ruin, a model who not only embodied Seonghwa’s vision but elevated it to something more. Seonghwa sank his teeth into Hongjoong's shoulder to confirm that feeling in visual design.

"Mmm, you are the perfect model for me," Seonghwa mouthed against the bite mark he'd left.

The compliments went straight to Hongjoong's d@ck. Dangerously full of confidence, he reached his hands backwards around them to grab at Seonghwa's hips and urge them forwards, fingertips prying at the straps of the panties. The damp lace covering Seonghwa's huge erection felt so crude putting pressure between his cheeks. It made them both sigh and drawl out moans.

After an entire evening of being physically and emotionally edged, Hongjoong was ready to beg. "Please, god, enough. I'm ready to cum now."

Seonghwa was more than happy to finish the job. He pushed Hongjoong's body forwards again, urging his hands back onto the glass with a yelp. In his own careless abandon, Seonghwa merely pulled the pouch of his lace thong aside to let his hard c@ck spring free. He stifled a moan, using his already slicked hand to rub up his length and smear his own precum amongst the lubricant.

Hongjoong stayed transfixed on their reflections this time, obsessed with the l@st pulling at Seonghwa's features. He kept his eyes torturously open even as Seonghwa dragged his swollen head up and down between his ass cheeks, teasing him with the slippery pressure. The lube created a frustratingly wonderful glide, alluding to what was to come.

Seonghwa found himself momentarily breathless, bringing his c@ck to a stop at the natural dip of Hongjoong's entrance and pushing gently. Whilst he guided himself slowly, he let his other hand take Hongjoong's bruised ass cheek and pull it aside. It gave Seonghwa a full, unrestrained view of the tip of his c@ck edging into that tight passage. It stretched open so tentatively and, f@ck, was it glorious.

His c@ck seemed so huge against that pink, furrowed hole, despite the preparation it was already resisting the pressure, so deliciously tight. Hongjoong was squirming, toes curling on the plush, splattered carpet. One would have assumed he was crying in pain but for the throaty moans that escaped him as his back arched again.

Seonghwa had to push a little more to enable the head of his c@ck to fully pop through the first ring of muscle. A low groan grew in his chest. Hongjoong was so f@ck@ng hot and tight around him, the feeling was unparalleled. He keened his hips forwards slowly but firmly, watching with his teeth dug into his bottom lip as that pert ass began to swallow him whole.

Hongjoong wanted to writhe and cry, but in the most colourful mixture of both pain and pleasure. He felt tears pr@ck his eyes again, his reflection confirming their presence as he watched them escape down his cheeks. His fingers were turning pale as they struggled to grip the mirror's surface. Seonghwa was so deceptively big and wide, being taken from behind this way felt like it was splitting him in half. But with every inch that disappeared into him, the hideous stretch was melting away into fiery, pulsating bliss.

"You're taking me so well, baby, f@ck," Seonghwa breathed, slipping his hands to Hongjoong's hips for that final push.

"Oh, god...!"

Hongjoong felt another wave of tears roll down his face as Seonghwa gave one last, final shove of his hips to bury himself to the hilt inside him. The intrusion was hard and long, it made Hongjoong's ass muscles clench wildly in response, sending the tailor's breathing into stutters. But how beautiful that sound was, listening to Seonghwa gasp raggedly behind him, feeling his b@lls tightening underneath his ass cheeks everytime he squeezed purposefully around his c@ck.

The realisation grew, the understanding that he was doing that. That he was providing that elation with his own body, that he could cause someone so much raw pleasure. His monotonous, daily life could never have comprehended he was possible of such a thing before. But then again, it also would have never imagined meeting a temptress such as Park Seonghwa could open his eyes to these possibilities. He didn't think he'd ever be able to remove this feeling from his life.

Whilst they both adjusted momentarily to the sensation, Seonghwa grinned lazily at their reflection. Joined as one in the most unholy jigsaw anyone could imagine, he noted the beautiful appearance of the artist and his masterpiece. He felt a drop of sweat roll down his temple and relished how softly it tickled in its trail down his face in stark contrast to the fire searing in his c@ck.

As Seonghwa pulled his hips back, it felt like he was unsheathing himself. It made Hongjoong sn@tch in a breath, just in time for those hips to drive forwards again. Seonghwa moved slowly at first whilst Hongjoong's insides continued to loosen, moving smoothly, a little tentatively, but it didn't take long for him to start whining through the soreness. Pleasure was blooming within Hongjoong now, overtaking the stinging bite of being stuffed so full of c@ck.

Seonghwa began to pull back and drive forwards more intently, enough to create wet sucking sounds against the slap of his lace-trapped b@lls on Hongjoong's skin. There was fluid rhythm to his thrusts once his desire was under control, making sure to roll his body at the right angle on the next assault, driving deeper and deeper.

Hongjoong cried at Seonghwa's large c@ck connecting hard with his prostrate. It made his entire body contract and his knees weaken, but he kept his hands and eyes firmly on the mirror as he gasped. Now that Seonghwa was f@ck@ng him so deeply he felt electricity washing over him from head to toe in waves, building to a crescendo in the base of his spine. Their joined reflection became redder and more hurried, Hongjoong could feel sweat between his palms and the mirrored surface, especially when he pushed his body backwards to meet Seonghwa's thrusts.

Seonghwa knew he was feeling more than heaven with every shove into that tight ass. Hongjoong's body was contracting harder and harder the more he f@ck@d into him, sending him wild with unbridled l@st. He resisted the urge to rut messily and unrestrained against him like a wild man, this had to be perfect, the perfect masterstroke. Though, he couldn't deny how he was fast hurtling himself towards the edge, especially with the tight strings of that thong chewing his own ass. Perhaps that restraint would be disappearing quicker than he thought.

Seonghwa had always prided himself on his composure, on his ability to remain calm in mostly any situation. But standing here now, watching Hongjoong's ass so effortlessly take him, embodying everything he had envisioned for him, Seonghwa could feel his resolution slipping fast. His hips snapped forwards over and over and his concentration began to waver, watching the lines between creator and animal blur with sweat in front of those mirrors.

"I'm so close...!" Hongjoong let out a particularly unrestrained moan, his knuckles nearly white from gripping the mirror. "Don't stop, don't stop, f@ck, please!"

Hongjoong's entire body felt like it was going numb, he couldn't help crying with every breath, lost for time to wonder how he was still standing. He was powerless to resist when he felt Seonghwa shift his weight, pushing and manoeuvring his body forwards against the mirror. Hongjoong gasped at the cold glass skirting over his chest and nipples, sliding over his wet c@ck like ice on molten lava.

The temperature in the fitting room had risen so much it was becoming heavy, Hongjoong could feel the moisture in the air with every strained gasp. He was becoming more and more light headed. His brain didn't really register Seonghwa reaching down to grab the back of his left knee, hauling his leg up and against the mirror. His face crushed sideways against the glass, his body twisting in a way that enabled Seonghwa to reach his insides from an entirely different angle. He swore he could nearly feel Seonghwa’s c@ck in his guts.

Hongjoong audibly groaned at how the tailor used the extra purchase as an excuse to f@ck him harder, f@ck him more open and plunge deeper. His prostrate was so swollen under the torrent of abuse but it felt so delightfully awful that he couldn't say no to the pressure. He could no longer see their nasty reflections before them with his breath misting over the glass. It didn't seem to matter now at this level of abandon.

This was it and Hongjoong knew it; the point at which the last shred of his control was finally about to disappear. He knew he had done well to hang on to one last thread at least, but that tether was so loose now it had slipped away completely. And as his breath hitched, his pulse quickening rapidly towards the end, he came to terms with the fact that losing control wasn't all that bad. He only wished he'd done it sooner.

"You can let go, Hongjoong, come on," Seonghwa muttered breathlessly into his ear with a firm drive forwards, pushing him hard against the mirror. "Let go, let go."

And so he finally did.

Untouched, Hongjoong's @rg@sm hit him so hard he saw stars behind his clenched eyes, losing his body to convulsions that wracked him until he couldn't breathe. It was an epiphany, an out of body experience that left him gasping and bending.

It had been a whole evening of intense foreplay, exploration and games that had left Hongjoong more sexually frustrated than he had ever been in his life, but the pleasure radiating through his entire body made it all worth it. The control was gone, the rapture unleashed. The pressure that had built in his abdomen spilled over so spectacularly that it had Seonghwa stunned. Hongjoong covered himself and the mirror in so much cum that it dripped down the glossy surface in streams.

Seonghwa thought he'd never seen anything so impressive, holding Hongjoong upright as he came so hard. He imprinted the vision of his face twisting in pleasure to memory, how Hongjoong's eyebrows crossed deeper with every convulsion, how his mouth still fell open silently whilst he still slowly f@ck@d him through it. Seonghwa continued to roll his hips gently, gasping at Hongjoong's muscles constricting his c@ck.

"F@ck, oh Seonghwa, god..." was all he could mutter for a while as he caught his breath and steadied his pulse. "You... you're incredible."

Seonghwa welcomed Hongjoong's head rolling back against his shoulder, letting the taller man take the majority of his weight. Though it wasn't a burden, it allowed Seonghwa to kiss at his neck whilst he helped Hongjoong milk the last of his @rg@sm. Every deliberate thrust had him shuddering, had his sore, softening c@ck still spurting liquid until it was clear and smearing against the mirror.

Hongjoong was nearly a quivering mess in Seonghwa's arms by the time he started to come back down from space, his c@ck twitching pathetically as it deflated. Soon he was whining at the overstimulation, his hip cracking as Seonghwa slowly let his leg down and embraced him tightly from behind. But it didn't go unnoticed that the c@ck still buried deep in his ass was rock hard and pulsing in anticipation, almost holding back from moving.

"Wait, you didn't finish yet?" Hongjoong suddenly asked once his voice was back.

Seonghwa paused in his trail of kisses. "Not yet. I needed to see you cum first. Hold still."

Hongjoong's toes were still tingling, his chest stuttering when Seonghwa took a hold of his hips, dragging his c@ck slowly out. It made Seonghwa take a breath in when he slipped out, fascinated at the sight of Hongjoong's hole trembling loosely around thin air. He took his hard length into his hand to tug at it sharply, it was still pulsing and crying out to f@ck, to finish what it had started. Not much longer left to work, this had been the most intricate art he'd ever created in his life.

Seonghwa had always been meticulous, a perfectionist to his very core, but now with Hongjoong standing there so perfectly wrecked, he couldn't help wanting to extract just that little more. More than just from the role of a director, more than the carefully curated moment they had created together. He wanted to completely lose himself in the very thing he had been so carefully orchestrating.

"Can you indulge me a little further?" Seonghwa asked sweetly.

He deftly moved his hands to unfasten his bra, letting it tumble to the carpet. He then tugged down the damp thong and freed his b@lls from the ache setting in, leaving him completely naked and devoid of wonderful restraint. His groin felt like it was on fire, begging him to stroke himself off to @rg@sm, but he only teased his c@ck over, rubbing at the new beads of precum pooling at the head.

When Hongjoong finally straightened up, legs shakily turning him to face Seonghwa in all his naked glory, he couldn't help but be stunned. The whole time they'd f@ck@d, he'd only been able to see half of Seonghwa's body in the mirror underneath his contorting features. But the mystery had been so worth it. Every inch of Seonghwa that he'd felt had been exactly as he had imagined it.

Hongjoong noted that the tailor was still Adonis-like in his stature despite how destroyed his decorum appeared. His thick, black hair which had been so perfectly coiffured in the hotel bar now stuck to the sweat covering his forehead. His shoulders, chest and hips bore the delicious pressure marks of where those thin, lingerie straps had been hugging him.

And, holy hell, that c@ck.

It sat so heavy in Seonghwa's hands, so delightfully attractive. It made Hongjoong's mouth water. Seonghwa's entire abdomen was taut, smooth and hairless, glistening with perspiration and dashes of smeared lube. It was a sordid canvas that was the stuff of dreams. Despite the floating sensation still coursing through Hongjoong's body, he couldn't help lust reigniting at the sight of the man before him. If he even thought he could call him a man, because 'God' felt more apt in that moment.His gaze held Seonghwa’s as he took a shaky step towards him, but then his body was moving with more intention, more certainty, almost as if someone else were moving his feet for him. His blood pumped with resolve and confidence, it almost bloomed within him. Where before he had simply followed Seonghwa’s lead, now he was ready to meet it. He was ready to match the rhythm, finding his own place beside him. He could feel the energy between them crackle, charged with something that went beyond the surface, and it gave Hongjoong a quiet injection of courage.

The vulnerability that had once made him feel exposed now fuelled something that was bubbling in his stomach, and he could see the effect it was having on Seonghwa, the way the other man’s composure slipped the same as his lip between his teeth. Hongjoong was no longer just a canvas for Seonghwa to paint on, he was becoming the brush itself, the part of the creation that brought everything into colour and focus. It was like the crowning glory on his night of self-exploration had finally come to its peak.

Hongjoong stunned Seonghwa by dropping to his knees, putting his face directly level with his swollen c@ck. He couldn't help but grin up at the tailor looking down at him with those hooded, lust filled eyes. Just one man had shown Hongjoong more of the world than anyone or anything could have in one night, and he couldn't think of any better way to repay him.

"Whatever you need, take it," he implored. "C@m on me. Choke me. Anything. It's yours."

Seonghwa's hands threaded through Hongjoong's hair, though not without a subtle, excited tremor. The power dynamic was twisting and Hongjoong was becoming less passive in this intricate dance. He was more in control of himself now that he was free of his restraints, seizing his own energy, and that realisation brought with it such a sublime sense of liberation. No longer was he simply following Seonghwa’s vision, he was creating it with him, step by shameless step.

Hongjoong opened his mouth, licking his lips to drench them as best he could as before dipped forward. Seonghwa held his c@ck firm for Hongjoong to taste, snatching a breath in whilst his tongue darted out tentatively at first to lap at the smooth, glistening head.

With the mingled taste of salty precum and flavoured lube, Hongjoong relished in knowing the flavours dancing on his tongue were what he himself tasted of. It was filthy, knowing he was consuming himself on the tip of Seonghwa's d@ck and it made his stomach twist in pleasure.

"Baby, mmm... are you sure?" Seonghwa cooed, pushing ever so gently on the back of Hongjoong's head to urge him forwards.

Hongjoong felt something even more exhilarating meshing with the rebuilding desire inside him. He was ready to push the boundaries, not just of what Seonghwa expected, but of what he had thought himself capable of. Even his wildest dreams couldn't fathom how he was acting.

He let the girth of Seonghwa's c@ck rest on his tongue, savouring the heavy weight of it before letting it slide further into his mouth. Hongjoong had to admit he wasn't an expert at things like this given his thin sexual history, but how delicious Seonghwa's length was was very quickly making him want to be an expert. He closed his lips around it, sucking as much of it in before he felt that swollen head tickling the back of his cheeks. He noted through glassing eyes that his gag reflex was twitching, even though a large portion of Seonghwa's cock was still yet to be devoured.

Hongjoong's movements were slow, languid, favouring precision and what he could fit into his mouth over making himself gag. He slid slowly back off Seonghwa's cock with a pop, before diving back in to suck on the head until he felt more precum pulsing out onto his tongue. He used the extra lubrication and spit pooling in his mouth to turn the man's d@ck into a slippery mess.

When he swallowed back down on Seonghwa's length again, this time with hollowed cheeks and little more pressure, he was enthralled by how the tailor moaned. With every passing slip up that gorgeous cock, Hongjoong’s sense of control came back. Not in a manner that diminished Seonghwa, but in a way that showed him how he could both give and take restriction.

The nervousness, the uncertainty Hongjoong had carried in his chest when this all began, it had all melted away completely, replaced by a growing boldness that became stronger with every suck he administered. He could feel his own d@ck firming up again, lifting up towards his stomach. The carpet burning his knees reminded him of how nasty, yet sexy, this all was.

As he picked up the pace, Hongjoong used one hand to grip at the parts of Seonghwa his mouth couldn't fit and rub down around his b@lls. The obscene amount of drool leaking from the corners of his mouth ensured that there was ample fluid to make every ministration felt. He knew by now that Seonghwa's cock was big, but in his dainty mouth it was enormous. The load of it sliding over his flattened tongue and filling his cheeks was leaving him breathless, struggling for oxygen through his nose.

Seonghwa soon began to rock his hips in time with Hongjoong's face, the grip of his hands on the back of his head pulling tight now as they rolled. For a second, Hongjoong choked at a firm poke on the back of his throat, but the graze of teeth along his d@ck only made Seonghwa moan louder.

It was so sexy how Hongjoong could feel Seonghwa's voice rumbling low through his body. The vibrations went straight to his own cock, filling it out immediately. He really was on the way to being fully hard again and threatening to leak on his thighs. He couldn't help tears escaping his eyes as took his length in his other hand, beginning to jerk himself off roughly whilst Seonghwa continued to roll his hips into his pretty face. He hummed in satisfaction.

"Oh, are you touching yourself?" Seonghwa asked breathlessly, looking down at the feel of Hongjoong's movements becoming less rhythmic.

It was such a magnificent sight that Seonghwa would commit to memory as all decency left his body. Hongjoong staring up at him with stars in his eyes, tears on his flushed cheeks and pleasuring himself whilst Seonghwa's own cock disappeared into such a beautiful, wet mouth. It was pushing him hard over the edge. He took a glance into the mirror before him and saw how small and used Hongjoong's body looked on his knees in front of him. F@ck, this was too much.

Hongjoong's eyes nearly fluttered shut but a tug on his hair brought them back open. "Keep looking at me, baby," Seonghwa chided.

From this angle, the entire world felt above him. Watching Seonghwa's slim body tremble and his stomach convulse, seeing the subtle way his control was disappearing with the sloppy drives of his hips, Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel the gratification in the shift. Seonghwa’s earlier confidence, that commanding presence, had guided him so carefully, but now it was faltering on the edge of @rg@sm. In its place, Hongjoong felt his own self-assurance blossom.

He took a deep, nasal breath in, and for a few seconds relaxed his mouth and throat enough to suck in Seonghwa's entire length. It was hard, it made more tears run down his cheeks and a dull ache settle into his jaw, but the result it produced was euphoric. Seonghwa's eyes locked onto his, cries of pleasure surfacing from deep within his chest, it all went straight to Hongjoong's d@ck in the fastest plummet to the edge he felt he'd ever experienced.

"F@ck, I'm gonna-!" Seonghwa tried to warn, but the sloppy thrusts proceeding the suggestion were a little too late.

Electricity was already striking down Seonghwa's spine, washing heat through his body and catapulting him high. After a night filled with so much sexual exploit, he came so hard that his hips stuttered wildly amongst a stream of cries, curses and moans. He pushed his cock deep into Hongjoong's mouth with every convulsion, spilling so much hot cum straight down his throat that he thought it might leak out from the sides of his tightened lips. But he needn't have worried.

Hongjoong was lost in his own exhilarated bliss. If Seonghwa's eyes hadn't screwed shut as he rode out his @rg@sm, he would have noticed that the reason Hongjoong's mouth was clamping so hard around his cock was because he was c@mm@ng again himself. Low moans built in Hongjoong's chest but never made it up his neck; he had to let it be more pre-occupied with eating down the hot release that was slipping down it.

His second climax didn't hit him quite as hard as the first. Whereas that had been like a slow wrecking ball to the face, this time it was fast and frantic like a dog catching up to a rabbit. It rattled his insides and made his abdomen contract sharply, throwing him into the abyss but lassoing him back quicker. He was more aware this time of the tears on his eyelashes.

Unsurprisingly, Hongjoong still @j@c@l@t@d enough to paint his hand and thighs with wonderful white streams. It took every shred of strength he had left to suffer the onslaught of Seonghwa's release flooding his throat and @rg@sm wracking him for the second time. But Hongjoong knelt there steadfast through it all, until they were both spent and Seonghwa was gasping above him.

With a long sigh, Seonghwa's grip on Hongjoong's hair relaxed, becoming gentler again after not realising he had been pulling on it so tightly. His breath came back to him in steady puffs, but he still couldn't help moaning at the sensitivity in his softening cock as he let it slip out of Hongjoong's mouth. It was delightful how stray liquid spilled from the corner of his swollen lips, a most sordid picture that made Seonghwa's stomach ebb with happiness.

"Oh, sweet, you did so well," the taller man breathed, bending to slip his arms underneath Hongjoong's and help him to his wobbly feet.

Hongjoong wanted to reply to the praise, but found his voice as weak as his knees. He was exhausted, tired, physically and emotionally empty, but he managed a grin at least whilst he let Seonghwa help him over to the sofa. The torrent of feelings he had running through him were a heavy tangle on his brain; there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to express, so much he wanted to thank Seonghwa for, but his brain misfired at every thought.

They both collapsed onto it in a heap, thankful for the deep, plush softness of the cushions. Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong's body forwards into his lap so that he could let him take the weight for a moment. Their spent c@cks slapped together softly, their bodies sharing so much heat it was like a warm bath.Seonghwa began to massage at the sore hit marks on Hongjoong's ass cheeks, before rubbing his hands all the way up his back and across his shoulders in the loveliest aftercare touches. He noticed how soundly their heavy breaths felt as they regained rhythm together after just a few minutes.

It mattered not that their bodies were wet with all manner of fluids, sticky with passion and post-coital haze. There was a crackling connection that lingered between them, chest to chest, cheek to cheek as Hongjoong wound his arms around the tailor's shoulders. The heavy taste of salt in his mouth was so pleasing, knowing how it had got there. He kissed tentatively against Seonghwa's neck and shoulders, adding a little more salt to his tongue from that covering of sweat on his body.

If not for rationale beginning to buzz back to life in his head, Hongjoong could swear he might fall in some kind of love if he stayed there.

He pushed back a little to take in the tailor's beautiful, flushed features, never tiring of looking at how pretty such a person was. Seonghwa's eyes looked drowsy, his eyelids were heavy, though those deep, brown irises told a story of satiated joy. He grinned up at Hongjoong with perfect, white teeth, settling his hands around the smaller man's waist. He could tell that Hongjoong wanted to say something, but that his brain wasn't quite computing life properly.

He knew he had to try anyway. Taking a deep breath in Hongjoong attempted to untangle his brain. "Seonghwa, I... I don't know what to say. You made me feel so f@ck@ng good. Thank you. I don't think... no- I've never been f@ck@d like that before, I-"

"Please, stop," Seonghwa interrupted with a finger on his lips, "you don't need to thank me for anything, although the pleasure was definitely mine. We're just two people that fate brought together to make each other feel good, that's all."

That's all.

Was that really all?

Hongjoong couldn't help a quiet sadness settling in the back of his chest, soft but undeniable. He hadn’t wanted to think about how hard the bump would be back into the real world, he had tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. But now, bundled into the lap of the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, body, inhibitions and feelings busted open for all to see, he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling. The soothing grabs on Hongjoong's waist were beginning to feel heavy.

This might be it.

This fleeting, intense connection, this shared moment of discovery might be over with the dawn of the morning. After all, they both had their lives to attend to, didn't they? Later they’d return to their separate worlds, and this electricity would dissolve into a memory.

Hongjoong had entered into this night with curiosity, a sense of willingness, not anticipating how deeply Seonghwa would affect him. But now, as the final moments approached, the comedown was hitting him harder than he had thought it would. They were living in a perfect bubble in this fitting room, one that was about to pop hard.

"What time is it?" Hongjoong queried. "I probably need to get back to the hotel soon... not that I'm gonna get much sleep before my meeting."

Seonghwa laughed, peering around Hongjoong's shoulder to a clock on the wall. "It's nearly 3:30am. What time is your meeting?"

"9:00am sharp," he laughed. "It's gonna be… interesting."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have a client booked for a fitting at 8:15am. So, come on, let's get you cleaned up so you're decent enough to be in public."

Seonghwa smiled gently with Hongjoong, reaching for the washbag across the sofa. He pulled out a pack of wet wipes and soon set to cleaning over Hongjoong's skin. The wet chill made him gasp and goose bumps prickle over his body, but in no time the tailor had his torso free of body fluids enough to be decent.

When Hongjoong climbed out of his lap to begin the hunt for his clothes, his knees and back cracked out loudly. His brain flashed back to what Seonghwa had said about having a client booked that same morning and couldn't help heat tickling his cheeks. The thought of knowing some probably stuffy higher-up would be stood on that podium so soon after what they'd done there was unbelievable. Hongjoong couldn't help but experience a pang of jealousy amongst his sordid thoughts, wondering if it really was a fitting or if something else would be happening to that client, too.

Don't think about it, you have no right.

Hongjoong felt his body becoming a little more animated as he redressed, though the ache settling into his ass and jaw would serve as a wonderful reminder of the new sensations he'd experienced.

For the first time, Hongjoong didn’t feel like he needed guidance. He had found his own footing in this beautiful shop under the masterful hands of a skilled artist. Yet, it only made the impending goodbye feel heavier, knowing that this newfound confidence, this newfound flourish he had discovered, was tied to someone he might never see again.

Buttoning up his shirt, he noticed Seonghwa was only slipping on the silk gown that had been around his own shoulders earlier. He made no move to pick up anything else apart from the beautiful, burgundy tie he had procured earlier. Such a common piece of clothing suddenly felt so special in comparison to everything else.

"Are you staying here?" Hongjoong asked quizzically at Seonghwa's lack of clothes.

"For now, yes," he nodded, approaching Hongjoong to drape the silk tie around his neck. "I'll run home to shower shortly, but since I have a client in a few hours, I need to make this place presentable. You did soil my carpets and @j@c@l@t@ all over my pristinely cleaned mirrors."

The way Seonghwa said it was comical, but Hongjoong's heart skipped. He glanced over at the mirrors and couldn't help a shy smile pull at his lips. The mirrors were a mess of dirty hand and body prints, thick rivulets of cum still dripping down the glassy surface. That definitely needed cleaning before it hit the soft carpet.

"This is so embarrassing," Hongjoong said bashfully, he could feel the tips of his ears turning red. "Can I stay and help?"

But Seonghwa shook his head, once again letting his skilled hands knot the tie around Hongjoong's neck with precision. Hongjoong thankfully didn't look too dishevelled now that he was dressed again. He would surely just be mistaken for a businessman reveller on his way home from being kicked out of a bar, or even travelling on his way to work, it was early enough. Nobody would ever need to know that underneath those stuffy clothes lay a body that had been so gratified, so wonderfully moulded by Seonghwa's own hands.

Once happy with his work, the tailor leaned in to press a goodbye kiss to Hongjoong's lips. There was no passion or lust to it, no tongues or teeth, just the sweetest thank you that Hongjoong could feel radiating down to his toes. He felt like he had spent so much time naked tonight that now he was clothed again, it felt weird.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you all the same. I would like you to go and rest so you can finish your work successfully," Seonghwa explained gently, noticing how Hongjoong was suddenly pouting.

"I guess this is it then," he replied in a murmur, his voice quieter than he intended. "Will I... can I see you again sometime?"

It betrayed the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had never been good at goodbyes, especially not when it came to something, or someone, he wasn’t ready to let go of unfinished. It was true testament to his steadfast work as a successful solicitor, unwilling to let a job or task lie until it was seen to completion.

Yet, now this event was over, done and dusted, with a new outlook looming on the horizon, he felt more lost than he ever had. His fingers curled slightly, resisting the urge to reach out, as if touching Seonghwa was somehow prohibited now. He felt a wall building, a client-customer relationship, though he willed his head not to see it that way.

"I can't say if our paths will cross again, but if fate deems it fit, then no doubt they will. You know where I work should you ever require tailoring services," Seonghwa chuckled gently, patting the tie on Hongjoong's chest, as if willing his heart to keep a sliver of faith. "Please keep this, it suits you so well, and it will look stunning on you at your meeting. Just grant me one last request: whenever you put it on, remember how amazing tonight made you feel. Remember how much you learned. Remember that the only person that can stop you is you."

They stood there, facing each other, two people who had shared a night of exploration so profound that it had changed them both in ways they couldn’t yet put into words. And as much as Hongjoong wished it could last longer, he came to terms with the fact that some moments must have been meant to be fleeting. He felt like a child about to throw a tantrum because he had been shown the best toy ever and now it was being taken away. But he was an adult, a big boy, with a big job and big responsibilities that needed seeing to. Perhaps he could chase this opportunity again underneath his own will.

With a deep breath, he nodded, accepting the inevitable."Thank you," he whispered, his voice full of meaning, hoping Seonghwa would understand all the things he couldn’t quite say. He wished for him to know how the change in life trajectory he faced was all down to him, though he had never been good with emotional words.

Once sure he had re-acquired all his belongings, Hongjoong let the tailor silently lead him by the small of his back through the fitting room, waving a humble goodbye to their reflection as they went. Past the heavy curtain and through the shop to the front door, Hongjoong felt his heart beating heavier with every tread. When he had first stepped foot in this place his feet had felt nervous, cautious, now they were filled with a confidence that didn't want to leave. The racks and shelves filled with opulent silks and glittering straps almost seemed sad to say goodbye, too.

Hongjoong looked out the windows onto the dark street with a little apprehension gripping him. In the still of the near morning, the streetlights still twinkled prettily against the night, but they were nothing compared to the beauty he'd found in this man. It wasn't fair that he had to step back into the normal world.

Seonghwa’s smile was bittersweet, but it was enough to ease the heaviness in Hongjoong’s heart, just a little. "Take care of yourself, Hongjoong," he said softly with a squeeze on his shoulder.

With one last lingering look, Seonghwa unlocked the door and let Hongjoong step out onto the street, changed and yearning for something he couldn’t hold onto. The door closed behind him with that sonorous tinkle of bells and Hongjoong felt the weight of the goodbye settle in his chest. He had to quickly come to terms with knowing he might never see Seonghwa again, but also knowing he’d never forget such a night, one that had awoken something so renewed inside him.

For a few seconds, he stood in sheer awe of everything that had transpired whilst the bracing chill of the night brushed at his face. It was a stark contrast to the heat he could still feel in his cheeks and between his legs when his brain tried to recall everything all at once.

He turned quickly back to the shop front for a final time, noticing how all the lights were now turned off as if nothing had happened. Though despite its sleepy appearance, the gold text of the sign hanging above the shop still glinted so brightly in the streetlights.

Illusion by Park Seonghwa.

It seemed almost comical, the way the truth of it all unfolded in Hongjoong’s head. He couldn't help a knowing grin tugging at his lips. Everything about his carefully constructed life, his fierce routines, the way he believed things had to be, all of that had been the real illusion in his life. He had lived in a grey world built out of necessity, safe and predictable but ultimately devoid of any colour. The beautiful burgundy hue now nestling at his throat felt like the most wonderful injection.

It was terrifying. And thrilling.

A whirlwind of emotions churned inside Hongjoong; excitement, hope, and fear, yet above all, an exhilarating sense of freedom prevailed. The comfortable delusion he had lived in was nothing more than a prison and he'd never known until he'd been dragged from outside its walls.

With the night's echoes still resonating, Hongjoong realised that returning to that illusion was no longer an option. There was a slight skip in his step as he tread the pavement on the short walk back to his hotel. 

“Alright, spill it."

Hongjoong blinked with a surprised start, not realising that he had spaced out.

He glanced up at the colleague that had suddenly appeared by his desk, clocking the curious eyes of his workmate Wooyoung as he grinned down at him. Hongjoong realised he'd been lounged back in his chair, staring absentmindedly out the window of the company's high rise again.

He couldn't help it.

A week back in the office had done nothing to erase the newfound bubbling in his stomach. By rights, Hongjoong should have been on corporate cloud nine, revelling in the well revered, successful completion of his merger and earning the company a sack full of bank numbers. His directors had given him no end of back patting and praise, thanking him for his efforts and continuing to call him the company's biggest asset, shortly before already handing him his next client.

But the showers of compliments meant nothing against the yearning Hongjoong still felt. Before, he would have lapped all the praise up like a hungry cat, adding the success to his long list of accolades before moving on to the next target. But now he was so distracted, his thoughts constantly wandering back to the tailor who had opened his eyes.

That calm authority, the way his touch still lingered, the way that man had seen straight through him from across a bar. It was surreal and, even now, sitting at his desk with his screensaver indicating zero work was happening, he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it all. Everytime Hongjoong took Seonghwa's business card from his pocket and slipped it through his fingers, he felt his body rewash with passion at the memories.

"Huh?" he finally blinked, glancing up at Wooyoung who had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Hongjoong had known Wooyoung a long time, he had started around the same time way back when, leading to them striking up conversations through their inductions. He was a sweet man that worked with different clients on the other side of their large office room, but he seemed to spend a lot of time floating around, especially when there was gossip to be had. It was like he had a radar tuned in to it.

Wooyoung grinned coyly, leaning against Hongjoong’s desk with his arms crossed. “I haven't had chance to catch up with you properly since you came back to town, you keep disappearing away from your desk.”

Hongjoong sighed. "I'm just busy."

Of course, he could never say that the reason he needed to leave his desk more than usual was because thoughts of that divine night kept popping back into his head. Hongjoong would find himself zoning out, slipping into a brain space filled with the memories of that fitting room. Hongjoong had been absolved so wonderfully in one night, he could recall exactly how his body had crumbled under the best @rg@sm of his life. He could still feel the delicious weight of the tailor's cock on his tongue, how they both tasted in that delirium.The ache of those strike marks on his ass were only now fading back to normality, but every time he shifted a certain way in his chair and put pressure on the bruises, he would have to dash off to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

Wooyoung glanced at the screensaver bouncing around on Hongjoong's monitor, seeing there was nothing 'busy' about it. He would surely have been surprised to see that if Hongjoong unlocked the screen, it would have displayed a multitude of websites showing long-haul flights and hotels. But the mystery would remain hidden for now, Hongjoong was being so stubborn.

"Okay, so what's happened?" he teased. "Because I haven't heard you pick up the phone once this week and it's already Thursday."

"I said I'm fine. I'm just taking it easy, so kill me. I need a break, that merger was a pain in the ass."

In more glorious ways than one.

Wooyoung, as expected, wasn’t going to let it drop that easily. He leaned in, the sly grin continuing to spread across his face. “Nu-huh, you’re holding out on me, Joong. 'Fess up.”

A part of Hongjoong wanted to grab Wooyoung by his shirt collar and throw him out the window. He wanted to keep that special night a secret, to bury it in the quiet corner of his mind where it belonged. But Wooyoung had always had a way of getting things out of him with his pestering and that sweet smile of his. He knew he wasn't going to get rid of him until he gave him something.

“Well, maybe something has happened,” Hongjoong began, bouncing back in his chair with a slow exhale. He wasn’t sure how to describe it without giving too much away, but the thrill of the experience almost still buzzed under his skin. “I... uh… I met someone."

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god, I f@ck@ng knew it. You sly dog, this is super hot gossip!"

"Keep your voice down, you ass," Hongjoong hissed.

"Who is it? Were they at the merger? Someone interesting? Dangerous?” he pressed, clearly eager for the details. “Come on, don’t hold back on me. You never meet people, you're always work work workkkkk.”

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, the memory of Seonghwa’s touch and the intense connections they’d shared flashing through his mind. He couldn’t give it all away, everything they'd shared was too private, too intimate, too wild for Wooyoung's tiny mind to probably even comprehend.

But there were things he could hint at, enough perhaps to get Wooyoung off his back without spilling everything. He had to remember that whatever he said to Wooyoung was also likely to make its way around the office like raging wildfire. In hindsight, telling his colleague anything was going to end badly, but there was no doubting that this way was undeniably better than having him perched on the end of his desk all day being an annoying parrot.

Hongjoong willed an awkward blush not to spread over his cheeks as he thought about what to say, but there was no way he could stop it. “No, I met him in the hotel bar. Let’s just say… he helped me see things from a new perspective. About life, about myself.”

Wooyoung clapped with glee. "He?  Oh sh@t, this is so exciting! Who is he? Is he hot?

Hongjoong's stomach twisted, immediately knowing he'd said too much. But no matter he would have said, Wooyoung would have strung him up the same way in desperation for his gossip. He had to quell this conversation and quick before he strangled his colleague into silence.

"Enough, please, Woo," he groaned, injecting some serious tone into his voice. "I don't want to say anything else, so leave it."

Wooyoung was watching him with rapt attention now, his expression shifting from playful curiosity to something more serious. “Wooow, okay,” he said, his voice softening. “Well, anyway it sounds like it was fun… intense. In a good way, obviously, you seem a little different, more… relaxed.”

“Sometimes perspectives change,” Hongjoong admitted with a slight shrug. “And they change you, whether you’re ready or not.”

“Perspectives? Is that a euphemism? Oh, now you really have my attention,” Wooyoung sang with a chuckle. “So, this mysterious guy not only enlightened you, but he’s also worth keeping secrets for? Interesting, interesting. So, what I'm hearing is, this is an undercover romance. Is he a spy?”

Hongjoong scoffed, shaking his head but unable to stop the smile that was spreading across his face. “You’re a f@ck@ng idiot, you know that?”

“I’m an idiot because I’m dying to know how you suddenly found inner peace. Nirvana. And after one night?! Sheeshhh,” Wooyoung shot back. “You can’t just say something like ‘he changed me in one night’ and expect me to let that go.”

Hongjoong rubbed his temples, torn between amusement and frustration. “Okay, one, I never said that. And, two, I am done with this conversation. Haven't you got work to do? Do I need to have you forcibly removed from my desk?"

Hongjoong glared at his friend, trying to figure out how to dodge anymore questions without giving too much away. He was very fond of Wooyoung and his bubbly outlook on life, but right now, the barrage of questions felt too raw and probing. The memories of his night with Seonghwa were too personal to be shared so easily. Hongjoong wanted to keep them locked away in his heart forever.

Besides, he wouldn't even know where to start explaining it properly to someone like Wooyoung, who would definitely twist it into something more outrageous before passing it to his colleagues. Before he knew it, Hongjoong would have been handcuffed and tied to a rack.

Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully, pushing himself off the desk and flinging his arms up in surrender. “Okay fineee, I’ll let it go. But next time you meet someone who ‘changes your life,’ you have to give me more than this cryptic b@llsh@t. Just tell me one last thing... are you gonna see him again?”

The sudden question shocked Hongjoong and hung heavy in the air, he felt the weight of it settle in his chest. He hadn’t let himself think too much about it, hadn’t wanted to dwell on the fact that Seonghwa had left as quickly as he’d entered his life.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong said quietly, his voice more reflective now. “I don’t think so.”

Wooyoung's face softened a little and, for once, he didn’t have a snarky remark ready. “Oh, damn, well that sucks,” he said sadly, but then, with a glint in his eye, added, “Still, sounds like you had a hell of a trip. You should go out of town more often, I like this new you. Nice tie, by the way, that colour suits you.”

Hongjoong couldn't help huffing out a laugh, his hand protectively grabbing at the knot of the burgundy, baroque patterned tie that Seonghwa had so kindly gifted him. He'd worn it every single day since he'd stepped out of that shop. “Yeah, so I've been told.”

"Yoo-hoo! Hey, Hongjoong!"

Another voice suddenly cut across the quiet office floor, putting a thankful stop to Wooyoung's interrogation. Hongjoong straightened up in his chair, a little exasperated at first at another person seeking his attention, however he softened at the familiar form of their building's receptionist striding over from the hallway. His soft dimples and smiling eyes were still recognisable even with arms laden with several bright, white boxes.

"Hey, San," Hongjoong greeted his other colleague more cheerfully than he had Wooyoung, who stood watching now in peaked curiosity as San deposited the pile of boxes on Hongjoong's desk.

"These all just got dropped off downstairs for you. I tried to phone up but you didn't answer, so I thought I'd bring them. Hey, Woo," San said, flashing a shy smile at Wooyoung as he explained. "They seem expensive, I didn't want them to get damaged downstairs. The company on the ground floor is moving furniture around."

Hongjoong stood up to stare at the three, pristine white boxes that apparently now belonged to him. He was as confused as everyone else was, he hadn't ordered anything recently, nor was he expecting anything. This day just seemed to be getting weirder and it was putting him on edge.

Each box was big enough to hold something of quality, judging by the weight of them as San had placed them on the desk. Not only that, but they were beautifully framed with wide, black bows, expertly tied neatly in the middle. They resembled some kind of bougie, expensive birthday or anniversary gift rather than a misplaced order. In fact, the knots on the bows resembled the handiwork of someone who Hongjoong knew was very good at tying knots...

Without hesitation and with all the gall in the world, Wooyoung reached over to pluck a small card from the top package and flipped it open. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively reading the sender details and he let out a cackle.

“What’s this, Hongjoong? And what is 'Illusion', huh?” he asked, a mischievous smirk already forming as he waved the card in Hongjoong’s face.

Hongjoong instantly paled, his stomach flipping as the information that left Wooyoung's lips confirmed his suspicions. He tried to play it cool, but his mind was racing. He couldn't help pinching the card out of Wooyoung's tempting hands and laying his own eyes on the small card. There was no other text to be seen apart from Hongjoong's name and work address and the return details of the sender.

Seonghwa had sent him something.

Three somethings, to be exact.

It was unexpected and nerve wrecking, Hongjoong could feel his heart instantly pick up its pace until it was thudding in his ears. He had no idea what these packages were, all he knew was that he needed to open those them, now, and without an audience.

“Will you go away please, Woo, it's just some work stuff,” Hongjoong stammered, his fingers desperately thumbing over the card as if it was giving him life.

“Oh, sure, because ‘Illusion’ sounds like something totally boring and corporate- ow, hey!” Wooyoung began to insist, but was cut off by San grabbing a hold of his shoulders.

"Come on, trouble," San laughed, "walk me back downstairs, let's grab a coffee."

Thankfully, San had cottoned on to the rising anxiety and blush on Hongjoong's face and sensibly took it upon himself to diffuse the situation. He pulled at Wooyoung's shoulders, twisting him comically away from Hongjoong's desk and leading him towards the exit hallway. Hongjoong would thank him later for the rescue, giving him a grateful nod as a protesting Wooyoung was manhandled off the office floor. A few of the other employees scattered around the office also seemed to sigh in relief at the loud man's exit.

Finally alone at his desk, Hongjoong let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. His hands hovered over the boxes for a moment, almost afraid to open them. Why would Seonghwa send something? Their goodbye had seemed almost final when he'd left. That sliver of hope had been sleeping silently in his heart, almost certain it wouldn't wake up, but now it was punching him behind his ribs.

Curiosity finally got the better of him once some oxygen had finally hit his lungs. Hongjoong carefully unravelled the perfect bow of the first box. The ribbon felt like silk between his fingers, it sent his blood racing around his body. He carefully laid it beside the card on his desk, intending to keep them safe and treasure them forever.

The top of the box slipped off easily. Inside, nestled on top of delicate, red tissue paper was a folded-up letter. Hongjoong removed it and was about to open it, but the prize sitting beneath the tissue paper caught his eye. Black and flecks of gold flashed under the clinical office lights, as if tempting Hongjoong in. His breath hitched as he peeled open the tissue and gingerly pulled out the garment beneath, letting the heavy fabric unfold into the air. He was stunned beyond belief at the sight.

It was a suit jacket, jet black and drawn over with the most intricate, shimmering gold swirls. The fabric of the collar and shoulders was soft yet structured in his hands, the patterns impossibly elegant. Shining gold buttons held the folds together, no expense spared on the craftsmanship or detail.

It was beautiful. In fact, more than beautiful, it was exceptional. It was art.Seonghwa’s eye for detail, his creativity, his flawless execution… it all radiated from the jacket in a way that left Hongjoong speechless. His eyes traced the swirls of gold over the black and saw within them the grateful feelings that he had buried deep in his chest.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, staring at the jacket in his hands, trying to process the overwhelming flood of emotions that came with it. That exhilarating night with Seonghwa had already felt like too much a dream, the illusion that he had come to terms with. But the most beautiful suit jacket in his hands made it all real again. Too real. Hongjoong's fingers trembled slightly as he ran them over the fabric, a small, disbelieving smile creeping onto his lips.

He remembered the letter he'd discarded and, folding the jacket up neatly back into its box, sat himself down to pick it up again. He couldn't explain it, but his body was suddenly filled with so many nerves he thought he might combust. His fingers tingled in anticipation of what he might see, and his eyes delighted at Seonghwa's perfectly curated handwriting on the paper. Dear Hongjoong, 

I kept your business card, I trust this set of packages found its way to you safely at work. You might be surprised to receive them, I wouldn't blame you if you are, but I have to be honest about something.

I designed this suit in one night. It was all inspired by you; by your glowing acceptance of your own vulnerability and confidence. I would be lying if I said I didn’t craft this only with you in mind. I haven’t been able to get the thought of you out of my head. Your presence in my shop seems to have become more than the fleeting moment I believed it to be.

Please try the garments on when you can, you'll find a jacket, shirt and trousers within the boxes. Pair them with the tie I gave you. I'm sure you know by now that I'm an expert in taking measurements, particularly with my hands, but this time I fear I might’ve let a few things… slip. I'm afraid you have no choice but to come back for a fitting, please accept my apologies.

I want you to know that there’s something special about the way you hold yourself, the way you surrender all control yet keep a quiet strength. I can’t forget it. Perhaps next time we can make sure everything fits… perfectly.

Yours,

<PRESIDIO_ANONYMIZED_PERSON> 
  x

  

‘Please accept my apologies.’
Oh, the sheer audacity of the man.It made Hongjoong chuckle out loud, smile so hard his cheeks twinged. Seonghwa knew exactly what he was doing, playing the situation so effortlessly. He’d purposely left room for Hongjoong to return, to be drawn back into that world, under his touch, his gaze, his direction once more.

Hongjoong's blood was rushing hot. The large office floor suddenly felt suffocating with a mix of anticipation and excitement. He couldn’t help but keep smile, even as he felt like his heart was going to fall into his stomach. Seonghwa was so bold and confident, he knew exactly how to play this game and Hongjoong could feel himself immediately surrendering.

Hongjoong let out a slow breath, folding the letter and slipping it into his breast pocket to keep it close to his heart. He stared at the jacket sitting pretty over the red tissue. The gold strikes across the fabric glinted as Hongjoong's eyes followed their trails and, for a moment, he could picture it again: Seonghwa’s hands on him, adjusting the fabric, the quiet hum of his voice as he worked. The precision, the allure, the possession, it was all there, hidden in the stitches and folds of this masterpiece.

A silken, white label sat perfectly sewn into the back of the jacket's collar, reading 'PSH x KHJ' in swirling, black cotton that screamed opulent possession.

Perhaps, Hongjoong thought, it hadn't been so much of an illusion after all.'
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User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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