“Get out,” Dongwoo hisses, the moment Sunwoo ducks behind the curtain.  It would be much more effective if Sunwoo didn’t know that Dongwoo is hissing around his lopsided grin (he doesn’t need to see it to know).  

The stall is small, a tight fit for the two of them, and it’s the perfect excuse for Sunwoo to press his body against Dongwoo’s back.  Not that he ever needs an excuse, not when it’s just the two of them in changing stalls and hidden corners.  He props his chin on Dongwoo’s shoulder and slides both hands up Dongwoo’s thighs.  Sunwoo has to bite his lip to hold back a groan just from that touch while Dongwoo squirms half-heartedly.

He wishes there were a mirror in the changing stall so that he can properly appreciate Dongwoo’s legs, but touching is better than looking so Sunwoo tells himself to be satisfied for now.  He fingers the edge of the too short shorts that Dongwoo’s wearing and presses himself more firmly against Dongwoo’s back.

“Please let me your thighs,” he mumbles, voice low and deep and embarrassingly eager.  Dongwoo gives in – to his urge to laugh, not to Sunwoo’s request.  He can feel Dongwoo’s laugh rumble through his frame, it makes his heart swell a bit, makes him want to hug the older man and sway around together like morons.  But his is a bit more demanding than his heart at the moment.  

Dongwoo places his hands over Sunwoo’s and drags them up and holds them at his waist.  “You need to calm down and step out before someone comes looking for us.”

Sunwoo hears the smile in Dongwoo’s voice and again – he wishes there were a mirror in the stall.  He’s not getting what he wants, he knows this, but he can’t resist the urge to push a little more, even if the chance of Dongwoo throwing professionalism out the window to indulge him is slim to none.

“Hyuuung,” Sunwoo whines as he grinds slowly against Dongwoo’s .

“Hey, stop that!  I need to get changed.”

“I know,” he agrees, stilling but keeps holding Dongwoo close.  “Into more shorts, it’s really not fair.”  He keeps complaining now just to hear Dongwoo laugh again, feel it again, because he knows he can only steal a few more minutes.  (He knew to begin with and even though sometimes those few minutes, seconds, are worse than nothing at all, Sunwoo just can’t resist.)

“Do you want the shorts instead?  You’d have to shave, probably clog the drain with your leg hair.”

“You’re so romantic, hyung.”

Dongwoo snorts and turns against Sunwoo (and he almost shudders at the feeling of Dongwoo shifting against him, imagining what it feels like when he does the same when they’re .)  
 
“So are you.  It makes me swoon when you sneak up on me to tell me you want to my thighs,” Dongwoo says, lips quirked into a smirk, and he runs his thumb along Sunwoo’s neck before teasingly wrapping his fingers around his throat and squeezing lightly.

This does not help him calm down at all.  Sunwoo whines pathetically, it earns him a chaste kiss, or rather, a laugh against his lips.  

Dongwoo smacks Sunwoo’s lightly and pushes him out of the stall, “Get out before you ruin the clothes.”

He clings to the curtains and sticks his head back in and puts all his effort into pouting as pathetically as he knows how, “Later?”

Dongwoo rolls his eyes and gives him a sideways look as he’s taking off his shorts (it’s really unfair) and smiles and Sunwoo can tell he’s holding back another laugh.

“Maybe.”




He could have said ‘yes’, he could have said ‘no’, but Dongwoo goes with ‘maybe’ and that’s really the worst answer.  It leaves Sunwoo to think about it through all the rest of the photoshoot (and the rest of the day).