As someone whose boyfriend appreciates the body aesthetics of both men and women, Taekwoon thinks he is righteously feeling upset about everything that's going on in front of him.

He stands on the fringes of the set with his arms crossed, the mask of calmness tightly fixed on his face. Wonshik is half in the middle of the brightly illuminated room and that wouldn't be a problem (it's never a problem and Taekwoon blushes at the thought), but the fact that he's circling a bunch of ladies who are wearing even less clothing than him, definitely is. They are gorgeous; each of them is beautiful like a doll, bodies lean and small and pretty, and Wonshik stares at their s in their fancy bras with a desire that Taekwoon can't accept, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how long he's been preparing himself for it.

Wonshik leans in, tipping one of the girls' chin up, drawing her face close, their lips almost touching, and Taekwoon's heart rate goes up at the same time as he feels cold numbness spread through his limbs. Wonshik doesn't kiss her, in the end, but he moves forward to pull one of the ladies in his lap, gaze travelling down her chest.

"Oh, ," he hears Jaehwan gasp a few feet away from him, eyes all but popping out of his skull.

"Lucky bastard," Sanghyuk whispers and Taekwoon sees him swallow.

Lucky girls, more like.

Wonshik now touches the women’s arms and waists, caressing their bodies and there's only that much Taekwoon can take, his blood boiling from the sight.

"Hyung?" Sanghyuk asks when Taekwoon rushes past him and Jaehwan, taking his phone out of his pocket to pretend he's getting an important call as he leaves the set and the building altogether.

Wonshik arrives home when Taekwoon is reheating the ramyeon he had prepared for dinner, deciding to have some of the leftover as a midnight snack. He hears Wonshik groan in the living room as he sheds his coat and drops his bag, kicking off his shoes in front of the entrance. Taekwoon tries to will the microwave to heat his food faster so he can get lost before Wonshik would notice him, but Wonshik trudges into the kitchen before Taekwoon could leave.

"Hey," he says, voice hoarse and weary, much deeper than it normally is when he's not as exhausted as he is right now.

Taekwoon murmurs a greeting and the microwave beeps, so when Wonshik tries to snake an arm around his waist, Taekwoon shuffles away, taking his bowl.

"Taekwoon?" Wonshik asks, confused, but Taekwoon doesn't look up at him.

"I'm hungry," he explains, and then walks out of the kitchen, aiming for his bedroom.

He sees Wonshik stand in the middle of the kitchen helplessly, flaming red hair still styled, and dark, smudged paint covering the patches of his body that are visible.

Taekwoon closes the door and sits in the middle of his bed, staring into his bowl of ramyeon unhappily, feeling his stomach churn, nausea creeping up into his throat as he remembers the women on set, the way Wonshik touched them and looked at their bodies, and he puts the ramyeon on the nightstand, untouched.

Wonshik knocks on the bedroom door when Taekwoon is already lying on his side, ready to feign sleeping. He doesn't answer to the knocks, but Wonshik opens the door as quietly as possible nevertheless, padding into the room and illuminating his way to the bed with his phone. When the mattress dips by Taekwoon, he shuts his eyes as tightly as he can.

"I know you're not asleep," Wonshik says with a small laugh in his tone, his hand resting on Taekwoon's shoulder for a second before Taekwoon pulls away. "What's wrong?"

"I just want to sleep," Taekwoon replies and turns around.

"No, you don’t. I can tell you're angry with me, but I have no idea why. Tell me."

There are fingers sliding up on his arm and Taekwoon crawls farther away from Wonshik.

"Don't touch me!" he says, harsher than he intended.

Wonshik's fingers disappear and his hand thuds down on the mattress, a sigh leaving his mouth.

"Taekwoon," Wonshik pleads and the sheets rustle, indicating that Wonshik wants to get closer but eventually, nothing happens. "Please, tell me if I hurt you somehow, I—"

"You did," Taekwoon says and curls in on himself a little more. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"You left the shooting without a word," Wonshik whispers. "Is it the shooting that upset you?"

"Guess.”

“I don’t want to play this game,” Wonshik whines, and Taekwoon huffs, thinking it’s too ing bad if he doesn’t. “Is it the wine? It was just grape juice, though.”

“It’s not the wine,” Taekwoon spats and turns around to glare at Wonshik, even if Wonshik can barely see it from the dim lights of the streetlamps coming in through the blackout curtains. “Gosh, why would it be the wine?”

“I know you don’t like it when I get too drunk…” Wonshik mumbles, and turns to Taekwoon again. “It’s the girls, isn’t it?”

There’s silence for a few beats, and then Taekwoon repeats, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He tries to turn away from Wonshik again, but his boyfriend grabs his shoulder and pulls him back, his hand resting on Taekwoon's arm.

“Taekwoon, tell me you’re not jealous of those girls,” he sighs like he’s the one feeling rightfully frustrated instead of Taekwoon. “Come on, I didn’t do anything.”

“It sure didn’t look like you weren’t doing anything.”

“Hey,” Wonshik caresses his arm, fingers crawling under the sleeve of his T-shirt, tickling his skin, “it didn’t mean anything to me; it was just for aesthetics and all.”

“Aesthetics,” Taekwoon snorts, “there was a lot of those.”

“Oh, God, seriously.” Wonshik pushes himself up on one arm, bending over Taekwoon, his free hand now cupping Taekwoon's cheek. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only one I look at?”

“They were all so pretty,” Taekwoon mutters and can’t help the pout that forms on his mouth. He averts his eyes and fights off the urge to shove Wonshik away.

“They can be pretty all they want,” Wonshik says and tries to catch Taekwoon's gaze, Taekwoon ending up looking at him, though he feels quite ashamed to do so. “They’re not you, Taekwoon.”

Taekwoon's deflated expression must be upsetting for Wonshik because he lowers his head, burying his face in Taekwoon's neck, and most literally flops down on top of him, the entire length of his body covering Taekwoon’s. Taekwoon makes no effort to keep Wonshik from sliding off his torso, but Wonshik is still cupping his face, his thumb Taekwoon's cheek.

“You’re the most beautiful human being to me,” Wonshik murmurs, his voice muffled in Taekwoon's skin. “And I would never… touch or look at anyone the same way I do with you. Why won’t you believe me?”

Because out of the two of them, it’s Wonshik who Taekwoon thinks is the most beautiful human being and it’s not a very difficult task to look more attractive than Taekwoon does. But it would lead to an endless fight if Taekwoon mentioned that, so he stays silent.

Wonshik soon lifts his head again, just enough to look at Taekwoon without his eyes crossing, the tips of their noses almost touching. Taekwoon is grateful for the darkness that conceals the possibly crimson blush across the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you?” Wonshik asks groggily, like he’s about to fall asleep in the next ten seconds but can’t do so until this is settled.

Taekwoon stares at him for a few moments, thinks he could count all of Wonshik's eyelashes one by one if he wanted as Wonshik's eyelids move up and down slowly, tiredly. Taekwoon feels himself smile at the sight, at Wonshik’s droopy eyes drooping even more than they usually do, his messy, freshly washed and blow-dried hair falling forward, its texture soft as Taekwoon cards through the locks.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wonshik says, his voice rumbling inside Taekwoon's chest.

It’s slow and warm and sleepy; Wonshik kisses Taekwoon on the mouth so gently Taekwoon almost wants more, for the small pecks to deepen, for Wonshik to sink his teeth into his lower lip, but all Wonshik does is love Taekwoon through the kiss instead of taking him apart with it.

They separate for a beat while Wonshik pulls himself up into sitting position, straddling Taekwoon's hips to take the weight off his chest, now both of his hands holding Taekwoon's cheeks as he bends over, tasting his lips tentatively like it’s their first time. Taekwoon's fingers fall away from Wonshik's hair, his hands sliding down Wonshik's neck to his shoulders and from there, to his bare waist, goosebumps forming in the wake of his fingers on Wonshik's skin despite Taekwoon's hands being warm.

They kiss until Wonshik's moves become slower, more watery, his hold on Taekwoon's face loosening as the rest of his energy slips away from him, threatening the both of them with Wonshik collapsing on top of Taekwoon. He pulls back, sweeping Taekwoon's bangs out of his eyes and looks down at him, squinting with the effort to keep those pretty, sparkling eyes open.

“You’re my everything,” he says in a gravelly voice and bends down once again, pressing his forehead to Taekwoon's. “Don’t ever think I’d think of anybody else than you.”

Affection fills Taekwoon's chest and it becomes heavy, so he gently pushes at Wonshik's shoulders to force him to lie down on his side of the bed. Wonshik's lips still move a little like he wants to say something but is already unable to, his eyes staying shut as Taekwoon pulls the duvet over his chest, tucking him in.

Taekwoon wiggles lower on the mattress and scoots closer to Wonshik, nestling under his arm and resting his head on Wonshik's chest. Wonshik might not have the energy to talk, but he manages to hold Taekwoon close by his back, draping his arm over the spot Taekwoon's waist is under the duvet, a sigh escaping him. Taekwoon tips his head up and pecks Wonshik's chin, closing his eyes.

He’s half asleep when Wonshik starts snoring loudly, and Taekwoon grins at it, grateful that he is the only one who can hear Wonshik's snores from up close.