A/N: Ya boy's drunk so i tried to make it obvious through making his thoughts jumpy and careless and nonsensical. hopefully it works. 

R18+ Enjoy some sexy time. I felt like the situation called for it. 

* * * 

Every member of the board would be attending this work function, so I had no means of an out. Most of them were known for enjoying their drinking, but some in particular were more notorious than others. And while my work superiors poured me drinks one after the next, it was unnecessarily impolite to refuse. It didn't take long before its affects took a deep hold of me.

The conversations around work were obscenely monotonous, enough that I wanted to end the night even though it had barely begun. We were brought to the Grand Hyatt Seoul Hotel where the CEO regularly boasted about its Western menu options. The restaurant interior had a timeless appeal, settling its guests in comfortably with warm mixtures of brown, red, and wooden textures. Mr. Kim sat beside me on the couches which lined a wall, where he discreetly took my hand in his and hid it behind the yellow cushions. Nobody was the wiser.

There was soft chatter from the patrons at different seating's, with my work superiors making the most ruckus out of the lot. Being here was both simultaneously relaxing, providing me the opportunity to clear my head with the inward battle with Haneul, and distressing while I had to deal with this raucous laughter and chatter. It would not have surprised me if a member of security requested that we leave. While I inwardly hoped that this would be the case, the drinks simply kept pouring.

"Director Han," said one of the executives through fits of raucous laughter. A robust man who turned rather jolly after a few mixed drinks of soju and beer. "You haven't yet taken a wife, have you, man?" he asked, lifting his beer jug into air. "Isn't it about time you married? I can set you up with my niece. Graduated K University top of her class. The best should only marry the best, right?"

I felt Mr. Kim gently squeeze my hand and stroke my thumb. The talk of marriage was an unwelcomed burden that weighed too heavily on my shoulders. As something that took me years to come to terms with for the fact that Haneul Bom and I would never wed, it was an unwelcome conversation that opened unnecessary wounds that I had no time nor patience to tend to.

"She sounds like a fine prospect," I said, forcing an interested smile. "However, there is already somebody who I am seeing seriously right now."

There was a lot of clanking and chatter around the table as every drunken man seemed to hear it. I noticed Mr. Kim looking at me awestruck from the corner of my eyes, and I could not help but looking back at him. It was my hope that he did not misinterpret what I said as intended towards him.

"Oh, bollocks," he answered, looking for agreement from his peers as my attention turned back to him. "If you're not dating to marry then there's no use dating at all. Aren't you already in your thirties? You're certainly not getting any younger, Director Han."

"I appreciate your concern," I said, "but I am comfortable where I am at. Should I take further interest in marriage prospects any time in future, then I'll be sure to come to you."

He appeared satisfied with this, and he turned his head to engage in conversation with another senior seated beside him. I took a sigh of relief and mirrored Mr. Kim's expression, one of incredulity. We both smiled, knowing fully well that none of the garbage I spouted was close to the truth. The closest I ever got to that truth was seven years ago when I was so confident that I would not marry anybody except for Haneul. To this day, that fact remained remotely the same.

More of these ostentatiously drunken men turned to me as they continued pouring me alcohol, which I was dutifully required to accept. As they kept the drinks pouring, they continued asking personal questions that I had no interest in responding to but no power to avoid. Whenever I was already engaged in conversation, somebody would turn their attention to Mr. Kim and pour him drinks on my behalf. When I noticed his eyes begin to glaze and his face begin to flush, I decided to step in and save him from the outdated rule.

I picked up his next glass and tossed my head back, downing all of its contents quickly. Everybody laughed and cheered, surprised by my interference. "I didn't pick you for a white knight," somebody said. "Truly the embodiment of a perfect son-in-law."

Their conversations were tiring, and they continued pouring drinks, whether for myself or Mr. Kim, knowing full well that I would continue to drink them. I remembered the past where I would do the same for Haneul because his alcohol tolerance was so low. He hated the feeling of losing control of himself, and the aftermath of illness the following morning. Haneul would always respectfully decline, but because he was indiscriminately sincere and apologetic, he always got away with it without an utterance of objection. If anyone persisted, then that's when I would come in and take the burden off of him. His eyes when he looked at me like some sort of hero... my stomach twisted as the memory. That sweet man... he would hold a loving place in my heart forever.

My head went dizzy with thoughts of him. His gentle expressions, his deep and thoughtful outlook on the world, the way he loved me so freely without borders... my sweet Haneul. I wanted to taste him on my tongue. Even just the sound of his name was sweeter than the plum soju I kept drinking. He was at home waiting for me. I missed him. I missed him more than I cared to admit. Even if he was a stranger now, he was not just the shell of the person I loved. He was the same boy, frozen in time. I wanted to sink against him and feel our bodies melt with passion once more. My sweet Haneul. My sweet, sweet...

"Haneul."

I heard Mr. Kim's voice. "Pardon?"

Releasing my hand from Mr. Kim's, I fumbled for my phone in my breast pocket and brought up Haneul's number, which I was fortunate to obtain while picking him up from the police station. It was too noisy to call him, so I tried sending a message just in case. I squinted at the screen, struggling hard to get a clear view of the buttons as they seemed to melt into each other.

My arms were extended across the table, accepting the refill of another shot glass before I could even remember putting my phone away. Did I already send a text? Was it coherent? Did I send it to the correct recipient? Would Haneul see it? When I felt liquid pour into the cup, my head drooped even lower. I tried to mask the drunkenness with a bow, thanking whichever superior offered me more. Mr. Kim was chatting intermittently beside me, trying to reduce the number of drinks I had.

"You're drunk," I heard him say, but couldn't lift my head to argue or respond. "I'll get you water."

I felt like a frightful mess, and I was somewhat nervous about Haneul seeing me like this. But I wanted to entangle with him and make up for all of the lost years. My sweet Haneul. Seven long years had passed in misery, but he came back as though he had never left. How many men might experience this sort of luck in a single lifetime? Or a hundred lifetimes? Why should I pass this opportunity to be reunited in the warm embrace of my long-lost lover?

My head felt like it would explode as I buried it in my arms against the table. All I could think of was getting home to Haneul. If he were to respond to my text and find me here, he could swoop in and take me home. Then I would pin him down on the bed and make up for lost time. He would writhe beneath me, clenching my shoulders and begging me to slow down as he cried my name. The thought was enough to send me in a wave of ecstasy. I hoped he would be here soon.

Being here was dreadful. My head grew heavier with every drink, quickly diminishing what little sparks of coherency I could still maintain. I wanted to leave this place. I wanted Haneul to take me home. I wanted to fall asleep and cry in his arms, but mostly, I wanted to reassure him that we could start over. That we could go back to the past, and that I would continue to love him now as I had done in past. Eventually, there was a gentle tap on my shoulder.

I looked up to a blurry face partially hidden under shadow. I couldn't make out any features of his hair, clothes, or face, but it couldn't be a coincidence. "Here's your water," he said.

"Haneul," I whispered, hearing my voice drown out amidst the boisterous crowds. He came for me, solidifying the need to reconcile both physically and emotionally. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his ear, facing away from my table so that no one could witness our exchange, and whispered, "Let's get a room."

"I think home is a better idea," he answered, scooping his arm beneath mine and supported me to my feet. "You white-knighted too much. Know your own limits before worrying about others."

"You have the patience to get that far?" I asked, glancing at the ceiling, which above it, held twenty odd floors of suites for our taking. Why call a driver for a five-minute endeavor when we could have everything we wanted right above our heads? We stumbled to the elevators and made our way towards the brightly lit lobby. The concierge and front desk clerk were stood talking to another patron, whom I lightly brushed against as I pulled Haneul closer towards the desk.

"A room for two for the night, thank you," I said, trying to hold my head high.

"Of course, Mr. Han. Would you like your usual executive suite on level sixteen? It is currently available."

The idea of taking Haneul to the place I frequented with Mr. Kim felt obscenely immoral, so I shook my head and felt the entire world move as I did so. "An even better one," I said. "The best one you have. I plan to make this a special night."

"Of course, Mr. Han," she said.

"No, his usual suite is fine," I heard Mr. Kim's usual secretarial voice but did not question his presence. Instead, I draped my arm over Haneul's shoulder and guided him back towards the elevator. We moved up to our room and I didn't have time to worry about the fact that it was the same one I would always frequent with Mr. Kim on our endeavors. What mattered was that Haneul came to me when I needed him.

He had the patience to keep our distance as we stood in the elevator, constantly shrugging off my advances. "The doors can open at any time," he said. "Wait until we're in the room."

I had no desire to wait, but I also had to respect his boundaries. It was an insufferable wait as the elevator rose to our level, but we arrived at the room and Haneul let us in. He continued holding me towards the bed while the ground moved like waves beneath me, and I worried I might cause him to stumble. He was only small and fragile compared to in the past, so I was surprised that he could take my weight so well. Almost effortlessly, for that matter. As if we were back in the past.

We reached the foyer and I decided it was enough, taking him by surprise as I pushed him against the wall. Our lips locked in an instant, and his arms made their way behind my neck as I tugged to release his tie. His hot tongue moved expertly in my mouth while his body grinded with mine. We played a relentless game of push and pull, removing articles of clothing and carelessly discarding them on the floor. I enveloped my mouth on his, breathing deeply at any small opportunity we had to pull away.

I pressed my crotch hard against him and licked down his neck, sucking his skin enough to leave marks. I wanted to remember this moment; to engrain my mark on him so that neither one of us could forget. He moaned and brought his hands down to my ass, gripping it tightly and pulling me even harder against him. Feeling his erection brush hard against me, I grabbed the back of his thighs and hoisted him up so that his legs wrapped around my waist. With his pants off and my dick already hanging out of my pants, I could have entered him just like this. I spat on my hand and wet my dick, then rubbed it against his spread cheeks, hearing and feeling his moans vibrate in his throat as his head rested against my shoulder. Everything felt so hot.

"Fuck," I muttered, then carried him over to the bedroom. This was our first time in seven years so I could not be careless. Without bothering about the lights, I placed him carefully on the bed and kissed his forehead. "Let's get you prepared."

"I already did," he said. Although his answer surprised me, I wasted no time feeling around for his hole and sliding my finger easily inside. One fit, and then two, and then three. I loved the sound of his moans as I explored deep inside his body. It was ready so that I could enter straight inside. I was filled with so much emotion to think that he would anticipate this moment with me. Since our reunification has been nothing but awkward, I felt pure ecstasy to have my old lover laying beneath me once again.

I kissed his forehead as I positioned myself between his legs, but the pleasure from just a brief moment inside his hot and welcoming body caused my head to grow heavy. After just a few thrusts, I realized that I could not hold my weight and flopped down on top of him. The alcohol had taken its toll on me, having drank far more than my body was capable of handling. Haneul's hands stroked my back and uttered reassurances while my head spun with unforgiving vertigo.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, wishing I could take back control of my body and not waste this precious night. I would have to beg for his forgiveness in the morning and spend every moment making up for it. "...Haneul."