Work Text:
The first thing Jihoon noticed about Hyunwook wasn’t his face.
It was the way he stood. Comfortable in his body, not cocky—just settled, like he belonged in front of the lens. His poses didn’t feel rehearsed, and his stillness wasn’t stiff. There was tension in his jaw, maybe, but his eyes stayed steady. Calm. Controlled.
Jihoon hated how much that pulled him in.
Models were part of the job, and he’d worked with dozens more conventionally striking. But Hyunwook’s quiet intensity lingered. It made Jihoon notice too much—where the curve of his neck met his collarbone, how his hands flexed when he adjusted his shirt cuff, the way his gaze skimmed over Jihoon like he wasn’t even in the room.
Like Jihoon was just another piece of equipment.
“You sure this is your first shoot with me?” Jihoon asked, adjusting the softbox. “You look like you’ve done this in your sleep.”
Hyunwook, perched on the stool in a pale oversized button-up, shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been shot a lot.”
“I bet.”
That earned a glance. Brief. Unreadable. Jihoon looked back through the viewfinder to avoid giving anything away.
He’d already adjusted the lighting three times. It didn’t need adjusting. What he really needed was to stop noticing how that shirt fit across Hyunwook’s chest, how the fabric gapped slightly every time he shifted.
Professionalism. Jihoon clung to it like a lifeline.
“Ready?” he asked.
Hyunwook nodded.
Click. Click.
Jihoon found a rhythm. He worked through the usual set—half-body, profile, a few close-ups. Hyunwook didn’t smile, and Jihoon didn’t ask him to. He liked the honesty of his expression, the way his mouth relaxed naturally, unsmiling but far from cold.
“You’ve got a good presence,” Jihoon said, voice low.
Hyunwook didn’t react at first. Then: “You don’t talk much when you shoot, do you?”
“Only when I’m trying not to think too hard.”
“That happening now?”
Jihoon smirked behind the lens. “You asking or telling?”
This time, Hyunwook looked straight at the camera—eyes sharp, mouth curled into something too sly to be called a smile.
Jihoon’s finger twitched on the shutter. Fuck.
He had to break the moment.
“Can we do some shirtless shots?”
There was a pause. Just a beat. Jihoon kept his tone neutral, casual. “Client’s request. Fitness line. They want to see definition.”
Hyunwook raised a brow, then stood without a word. He undid the top buttons. Then the rest. The cotton slid from his shoulders and onto the floor in one clean motion.
Jihoon swallowed, throat dry.
Hyunwook’s body was all lean strength—broad shoulders tapering to a tight waist, abs defined but not exaggerated. His skin caught the light like he was already edited. Jihoon forced himself to breathe.
“Pose?” Hyunwook asked, voice light, teasing.
Jihoon adjusted the lens. “Natural. Relaxed.”
Hyunwook stretched an arm behind his neck and exhaled slowly. His torso flexed just enough, lines tightening. Jihoon could see the faint trail below his navel disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.
Click.
Another pose, this time turned in profile, arms crossed.
Click.
Hyunwook met his gaze again through the lens. Something unspoken passed between them—something hot, alive, and barely held back.
Click.
Jihoon didn’t know when he stopped shooting and just started looking.
The silence stretched, thick and electric.
Hyunwook hadn’t moved since the last shot. He stood bare-chested in front of the backdrop, jeans slung low, eyes still locked on Jihoon like he was waiting. Daring him.
Jihoon’s fingers hovered near the shutter button, but he didn’t lift the camera.
“You’re staring,” Hyunwook said, voice low.
Jihoon blinked, throat tight. “Yeah.”
Hyunwook’s mouth curved, slow and subtle. “Thought you were supposed to be capturing something.”
“I think I already did.”
“Then stop pretending this is just work.”
That landed hard. Jihoon had kept everything bottled up for weeks—resting behind his camera, hiding in his edits, telling himself he was imagining the heat. But now it was right there, bare and unflinching.
He put the camera down.
His feet moved on instinct—three slow steps forward until he was in front of Hyunwook, close enough to feel the warmth rolling off his skin.
“I didn’t want to cross a line,” Jihoon said, his voice hoarse.
“Then why did you draw it so close to me?”
Jihoon didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
Instead, he reached out, slow and deliberate, fingers grazing Hyunwook’s jaw.
Hyunwook let him. His breath hitched.
And when Jihoon leaned in—tentative, searching—Hyunwook met him halfway.
The kiss was soft at first. Exploratory. Jihoon’s hand slid into Hyunwook’s hair as their mouths met again, hungrier this time. The kind of kiss you give someone when you’ve imagined it too many times to be shy about it anymore.
Hyunwook made a soft, broken sound when Jihoon’s other hand found the curve of his waist, fingers trailing across warm, bare skin. Jihoon pulled him closer until their bodies were flush—chest to chest, thigh against thigh.
“You feel so fucking good,” Jihoon whispered between kisses, voice shaking.
“I’ve wanted this,” Hyunwook murmured, “since the first shoot.”
Jihoon froze.
Hyunwook smirked, breath brushing Jihoon’s mouth. “You think I show up half-buttoned just for lighting?”
That broke something open.
Jihoon gripped his hips and turned him, pressing him back toward the full-length mirror leaning against the wall.
“Look,” Jihoon said, voice dark. “I want you to see what you do to me.”
Hyunwook’s eyes met his reflection—and the sight was devastating.
Jihoon behind him, flushed and wrecked, hands splayed across Hyunwook’s bare abdomen. Hyunwook’s chest rising and falling, pupils blown wide, mouth slightly open.
“Take your pants off,” Jihoon said. “Now.”
Hyunwook obeyed. He pushed his jeans down with no hesitation, underwear following in one smooth motion. Jihoon sucked in a breath.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
Jihoon dropped to his knees behind him. His hands slid up Hyunwook’s thighs, lips tracing the dip of his spine. He mouthed along the curve of his ass, biting gently—just enough to make Hyunwook gasp.
Then he pulled him back.
Hyunwook’s cock was already hard, flushed dark at the tip, and Jihoon didn’t tease. He wrapped a hand around the base and licked a slow stripe from base to tip before taking him into his mouth.
Hyunwook swore, one hand bracing against the mirror as his hips jolted forward.
Jihoon was thorough. Focused. He hollowed his cheeks, let spit drip from his mouth onto his hand as he stroked what he couldn’t take. Every flick of his tongue earned a reaction—Hyunwook’s thighs shaking, head tipping back, breath going ragged.
“Jihoon—” Hyunwook choked out, “fuck, you’re so—good—”
Jihoon moaned around him, fingers digging into the backs of his thighs. He wanted Hyunwook undone. Unraveled. Wanted to see him lose every ounce of that control.
And when he felt Hyunwook’s body start to tense, hips stuttering—
He pulled off.
Hyunwook let out a strangled groan. “Why—?”
Jihoon stood, panting. “Not yet.”
He grabbed a condom from the studio drawer—always stocked, just in case. He raised a brow, giving Hyunwook one last out.
Hyunwook just reached for him and kissed him hard.
Jihoon kissed him like he meant to make it last.
Hands roamed—over warm skin, down Hyunwook’s spine, gripping his hips like he was anchoring himself. Hyunwook pressed in, already naked, already needy, rutting subtly against Jihoon’s clothed thigh.
Jihoon pulled back just long enough to strip. His shirt hit the floor. Hyunwook’s eyes darkened when he reached for the waistband of his jeans.
“You always this intense when you shoot?” Hyunwook murmured.
Jihoon gave him a wolfish grin. “You haven’t seen intense yet.”
He stepped forward, bare now, the condom packet between his fingers.
“You okay?” Jihoon asked, voice gentling.
Hyunwook nodded, gaze steady. “More than okay.”
Jihoon kissed him again—slower this time. Their hips brushed, cocks dragging together, the heat between them unbearable.
When Jihoon finally turned him back to face the mirror, Hyunwook didn’t resist.
“Hands on the wall,” Jihoon said.
Hyunwook obeyed, breath fogging the glass as he spread his palms flat. Jihoon stood behind him, letting their bodies align. His cock nestled between Hyunwook’s cheeks, slick with precum and need.
He rolled the condom on with shaky fingers. Then reached down, hand sliding between Hyunwook’s legs to stroke him once, twice—just enough to make him moan.
“God, look at you,” Jihoon whispered. “You take direction so fucking well.”
“You gonna shoot this too?” Hyunwook panted.
Jihoon smiled against the back of his neck. “No lens could handle how good you look like this.”
He pressed forward slowly, hands firm on Hyunwook’s hips as he pushed in—inch by inch, easing past the tight resistance until he was fully buried inside.
Hyunwook let out a broken sound, forehead dropping to the mirror. “Fuck…”
Jihoon stilled, trembling. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just—keep going. Please.”
Jihoon moved. Slow, deep thrusts at first, savoring the heat and pressure, the way Hyunwook arched back to meet every motion. The reflection only made it worse—better—watching Hyunwook come undone in real time.
His face. His mouth. The flush crawling down his chest. Jihoon couldn’t look away.
“You see that?” Jihoon whispered. “You see how beautiful you are?”
Hyunwook whimpered, fingers flexing against the glass. “Jihoon…”
“I’ve wanted this since the first time you looked at me through the lens,” Jihoon breathed. “Wanted to ruin that composure. Wanted you just like this.”
Hyunwook gasped when Jihoon angled his hips, hitting a spot that made his knees buckle.
“Right there?” Jihoon growled, repeating it.
“Yes—fuck, yes—”
Jihoon gripped him tighter, pace quickening, skin slapping against skin. Their moans tangled together, raw and desperate, echoing off the studio walls.
When Jihoon reached around and wrapped his hand around Hyunwook’s cock again, it was over in seconds.
Hyunwook came with a sharp cry, painting the mirror, thighs trembling as he sagged in Jihoon’s grip. Jihoon lasted only a few more thrusts before he followed, groaning deep in his throat as he spilled into the condom, body pressed flush to Hyunwook’s.
They stayed like that—bodies locked, sweat-slick and panting—until the tremors faded.
Then Jihoon pulled back gently, steadying Hyunwook before guiding him down to the studio couch.
They collapsed in a messy sprawl.
The post-shoot quiet was different this time.
Not professional. Not restrained.
Jihoon brushed a damp curl off Hyunwook’s forehead and leaned in for a softer kiss. Slower. Familiar now.
“That was…” Jihoon trailed off, searching for words.
Hyunwook smiled against his mouth. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“More than okay,” Hyunwook echoed, eyes fluttering shut. “My legs are dead.”
Jihoon laughed, forehead falling to Hyunwook’s shoulder. “Mine too.”
They lay there for a long moment, breathing in sync.
“Does this ruin our working relationship?” Hyunwook asked eventually, teasing but quiet underneath.
Jihoon tilted his head. “No. I think it refocused it.”
Hyunwook snorted. “You’re the worst with puns.”
“You’re the worst for pretending you didn’t know what you were doing all along.”
“I didn’t,” Hyunwook said, then paused. “Okay, I did.”
Jihoon chuckled and kissed him again—this time with no urgency, just warmth.
There was no shoot scheduled for tomorrow.
But Jihoon was already planning another one. This time with less clothing, less distance, and maybe—just maybe—some real smiles on camera.
If Hyunwook let him.