which me do you w a n t ?

Jun pouted and batted his eyes down toward Remy. "But I'm your hyung! I haven't been able to treat you in too long and you know I love buying a shit ton of foofy drinks." Alfredo's sounded as good as any other place, so he walked with that destination in mind and a spring in his step. "Now update me on everything that's happened since we last spoke. Spare me no details. None. Hyungie is here to listen in person now." He sniffed, once again a little more dramatically than neccessary, and reached over to playfully pinch Remy's cheek.

Remy matched Jun's pout. "Okay fiiiiine. But next time I'm treating hyung." Remy always found it easy to fall into step with Jun, despite being the shorter of the two. There was something about his friend's effortless silliness, his ease of personality, that made things like this simple.

"Well..." Remy said, arm-in-arm with Jun, "I might be dating a certain boxer again..."

#;; jun

"What - not even for me?" Travis laughs with him. "You never know - you might like it. It's really not that bad." He's lying, of course - it's absolutely miserable, and Travis loathes it every single time.

"Well, I would be real surprised and curious why you didn't use your superhuman strength to open that jar of pickles the other day." Travis teased. In the end Remy did throw that punch and it wasn't half bad. The strength behind it was a little lacking, but it seemed that the main issue was posture, and that was good. "Alright, that wasn't bad at all! You did really good, baby. A few lessons and I'll have you lined up for a professional match. Okay, try this." He talks him through a few corrections - how to hold his fist, swing with his hip to put more power behind the punch. "Okay, let's try again."

"Not even for you," Remy confirmed. "You're a lying liar. I'm not falling for that. No, if you want to be in a bath tub with me, it's going to be a hot one. With flower petals instead of ice cubes." Now he really wanted to be in a hot bath. With Travis. Hmm...

"That jar of pickles had superpickle strength. My only weakness. Also the lid was really wide..." His hands were too small to get a good grip on it. "And anyway, am I not supposed to have my boyfriend open all pickle jars? I think that's my right."

Remy didn't mean to swell with pride over Travis's praise, but he couldn't help it. Hearing that he'd done pretty well on his first try was both surprising and elating. He wanted to gain more praise from Travis, fill his soul up with it, keeping him warm from the inside out. With this in mind, he listened to Travis's instruction, paying attention to how he held his body, how he moved with his punch. The next time he threw a punch, it felt more solid.

"Gonna get in the ice bath with me?" Travis arched a curious brow, the image of Remy shrieking once he actually did try getting in was a little cruel - sure, but also kinda adorable. And Travis figured he would be forgiven after, maybe, with some groveling.

Remy looked nothing short of devastatingly cute with the gloves on. It took willpower not to coo over him, but he was sure it showed on his face regardless. "Hit me - yeah." He chuckled. "I have to see what I'm working with. Don't worry, baby, I can take a punch. You're not going to break me. Just give me your best shot." He patted his palm: "Right here, hard as you can."

"Absolutely not. Never ever in my entire life will I ever, ever, ever get into your ice bath with you." Remy laughed at the absurd idea that he might ever take an ice bath. He was made for hot water, for bath bombs and oils that left the skin soft and smooth, not shivering.

"What if I secretly have superhuman strength and you just didn't know it this whole time?" He, admittedly, did not have superhuman strength. So with a sigh, he pulled his right arm back, fist formed in the boxing glove, and punched the offered palm as hard as he could. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes, sure that it was a bad idea, but also not wanting to see the outcome of his flying punch. It ended up being rather anti-climactic, however, as he, again, did not have superhuman strength.

He feigned a few seconds of consideration, lip caught between his teeth in thought: “You wanna boil me twelve eggs every morning for breakfast?” Travis asked with a sheepish grin.

“Jagiya,” He laughed quietly searching for Remy’s lips for a soft kiss, chest vibrating with the soft joy. “Don’t you know? You're a total KO, baby.”

Travis closed his fist around Remy’s tinier one. His fingers engulfed the sub’s almost completely. Slotting together like they were made for it. Whittled out of the same bark of wood. “Perfect.” He opens his hand to bring Remy’s bound fingers to his cheek, “Those are my chubby little fingers.” Travis peppered some more kisses over the sub’s open palm before slotting the bright red glove over it, repeating the same action for Remy’s other hand.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He beckoned once they were up and on the mat again. Holding both hands open and palm towards Remy: “Hit me.”

Remy chuckled and leaned over to kiss Travis's cheek. "If that's actually helpful, then I will boil as many eggs as you like every morning. I'll fill the bath with ice every night. Whatever you need, Jaginim."

Travis earned a full-chested laugh from Remy. "I'm aware that when it comes to you, I'm a total KO." He'd gladly let himself be distracted by their shared kisses, the ease between them addictive in a way that would be embarrassing if Remy weren't so head over heels. Remy was starting to live for these easy moments.

Remy watched their hands together and then as Travis brought his hand up to his cheek, he brushed his thumb across Travis's cheekbone. So handsome. Travis was always so handsome, so charming, with a smile that could earn him pardon from just about anything. "They are, indeed, yours, Jaginim." His chubby fingers then disappeared into boxing gloves, which Remy tested, flexing his fingers to see what was possible.

"Hit you? Just like that? We don't start with like...a punching bag or something like that?"

"Giving up fried chicken for me?" Travis chuckled. "True love, right there." There was a distant worry in his stomach about the fight. Afraid to get too much in his own head.

“Yeah?” He laughed, charmed by a single smile. “You gonna challenge me for my title?” Travis asked, “I’m thinking you might have an unfair advantage, baby.”

Travis is careful when he leads the wrap around Remy’s fingers - delicate and so pretty against his own. In truth, Remy doesn’t really need the wraps, or the gloves. Travis is just overly cautious, happy to indulge his own overprotectiveness. “Not tight, just snug. Enough to help keep your hand steady, to prevent any unnecessary injuries.” He holds Remy’s smaller hand in the palm of his own: “Can you fist your hand easily? Show me.”

"I'm nothing if not supportive," Remy said with a smile. "Seriously though, if there's anything you need in the next few weeks...you know when you're preparing...let me know." Anything to make sure Travis went into the fight at his very best. Remy didn't want to see him all bludgeoned again.

"I think it's an extremely fair advantage that I've earned."

Remy watched with fascination as Travis wrapped his hands up. He chuckled as he tested the wraps, making fists. "My hands look so chubby." He showed Travis the spots at the edges of the tape, where his hands puffed slightly. "Does it look cute?" He liked the way his hand looked when Travis held it. He liked Travis's bigger hands, warm and strong.

Remy looked up at him, head haloed by his bright hair, and grinned that demon little smile at him. Travis’ heart leapt in his chest, stupid-happy. His fingers worked with the force of habit - loosening muscles as they spoke. “Mmm.” He nodded, tongue caught between his front teeth. “Coach said he might have a fight lined for me.” He was excited. Worried too: “It’ll mean getting back into fighting shape. No more fried chicken fridays.” Travis chuckled, pulling Remy up.

“Alright, I think you’re as warmed up as you’ll get.” He nodded, “You excited for your first lesson? Let’s get you properly wrapped first and then you’ll show me what I’m working with here.”

He sat on the closest bench, bringing a clean wrap with him, one hand tapping on his thigh. “Come." Travis smiled: "Sit.”

"Really?" Remy bit his lip. He couldn't help but worry about Travis whenever he got in the ring, but he knew what Travis's job entailed. "No more fried chicken?" He pouted as Travis pulled him up off of the mat. "I guess I could be eating a little healthier too."

Smiling, Remy nodded his head. "I'm excited," he confirmed. "I'm going to be a big bad fighter just like you." Really, it was an excuse to have Travis's attention on him, Travis's hands on him. He didn't really need an excuse, but learning how to throw a punch was probably a good idea anyway. Two birds, one stone.

Remy happily sat in Travis's lap. "Yes, Jaginim." Sweet as pie. "Does it have to be super tight?" he asked.

Travis grinned, giddy as a puppy. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging: “Cute, by the way.” He hooked a finger under the elastic of Remy’s (his) sweatpants and tugged, letting it snap back as he retreated to finish up. His eyes stayed on Remy, who proved to be a distraction as he stretched. There would always be a dumb, lizard-brain part of him that made his chest puff up whenever Remy wore something of his. It felt like Travis’ own personal claim on him, close enough to a collar to make him feel hot all over.

It took around eight minutes of Travis losing his focus every time Remy’s crop rode up to show a silver of skin for the dominant to give up entirely and find his way back to the other.

“Lie down on the mat,” Travis said. “I’ll help you stretch.” His dumb grin reappeared as he hovered over Remy, hiding rather badly that most of his aid was to his own benefit. He pushed one of Remy’s legs up one hand on his ankle the other supporting his knee, pushing back gently to help stretch his hamstring. “Excited for your first lesson?”

If Remy were a cat, he'd be purring. He knew what Travis liked, knew what got him started. Wearing his clothes was an easy win, and Remy's own lizard brain liked it too, liked feeling Travis's presence on his body, even when they were apart. "Yeah? You like?" Of course, he knew the answer.

When he stretched, Remy could feel his shirt ride up and grinned to himself. Something about their redo of this relationship, their relationship turning real, had him giddy, ready to kick his feet in the air giggling. It wasn't that the old hurt was gone forever, but they embarked on this with new clarity, not the twists and turns of their faked romance. For once, Remy felt at ease.

"Hm? You're done already?" Remy asked, as if he didn't know exactly what he was doing. He lied on his back, smiling his prettiest smile up at Travis, letting the dominant stretch him out. It felt good. "Mhm, it's better now though. How about you? Have you trained well today?"

An empty gym is a blessing these days. After Travis’ last match there was a constant flow of people. A good thing, great for business, his coach was over the moon, but Travis liked having this place all to himself best.

He liked having somewhere to think. Things were going great, everything was good - even if Travis was scared to admit it to himself. There was a future to think of now - a tentative one, fragile hopefulness. Travis hadn’t the first clue how to be a proper Dominant, proper boyfriend, but he was learning. Sometimes it felt like he was approaching Remy from the perspective of a fighter, a boxer, as if he could learn Remy well enough. If Travis learned him, he’d know how to care for him better. Like Remy deserved to be taken care of. The front door blared an entry chime and there was only one other person who knew his passcode.

“In here.” Travis’ voice echoed and he smiled seeing Remy’s recently blonde head, rushing over to pull the sub in a kiss, wrapped hands sliding around Remy’s waist. “Do you mind waiting a bit? I still have a little more to go before I am done, yeah?”

@remy-moon

Remy would be lying if he were to say he hadn't put effort into his gym fit. A pair of Travis's own sweatpants, which sat low on his hips, and a cropped t-shirt that was just short enough to ride up and expose skin as he trained with Travis. He tied a portion of his blonde hair into a tiny ponytail and remained barefaced other than a good sunscreen.

Knowing the passcode to the gym felt like knowing a special secret that was just theirs. So much so that Travis knew it was him, and hearing the dominant's voice made him instantly smile. He let Travis pull him in, let himself be kissed and held. Life was good.

"I don't mind at all. I should stretch anyway." He smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Travis's lips.

#;; visage #;; social media #;; insta

@ moonchild.remy posted to insta

blue moon collection coming fall 2024

jkk-ys

"Of course it did! How could this city survive without both of us in it at the same time? We, the beacons of beauty and light, are solely responsible for this city's happiness," Jun joked dramatically. "Mm, brunch, yes. It'll be my treat. Where are you in the mood to go?" As much as Jun loved Port Cado, it was the people he loved, like Remy, that he'd truly missed the most. They were the biggest reason for his return.

"It couldn't," Remy agreed, putting his arm through Jun's so they could walk arm in arm comfortably. "Nonsense, I'm the one who invited you. It's on me." It had been too long since he'd sat down with his hyung for a meal. It felt good to have him back. "Hmm, there's Alfredo's not too far from here. They have the foofiest drinks."

#;; yejun #;; jun

Looking over his shoulder to see Remy, Jun felt his smile grow until it was surely taking over his face. The sight of his friend was even better than the city around him. "I suppose that's true." He turned his body so that he could wrap Remy in a hug and pat his back. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Welcome Committee."

"Port Cado missed you," Remy said, happy to have his friend back home. Lately, life seemed to move too fast, zooming past him, changing with the season. Jun being gone for so long was felt deeply. So it was a relief for this one thing to go back to normal. "Have you eaten? Should we get some breakfast? Or..." Remy looked at his phone to see what time it was. "Brunch?"

#;; jun

@ moonchild.remy posted to insta

blue moon is coming~~ 🩵🌙

#;; insta #;; visage

Jun found himself walking down one of Port Cado's many busy streets, trying to acclimate back into the hustle of it all. He'd just gotten back into town recently after an extended break from- well, everything. No shows at the casino. No wild parties. No dates. He'd spent time travelling, fishing, and leading a quieter life than he was generally used to. It had been cleansing in a way. It was in those peaceful moments in new places that he found inspiration for the kind of music he used to love making. Once he felt like he'd found a piece of himself that he'd thought was gone, he returned to the city he called home.

It felt familiar and alien all at once, but it still brought a smile to his face. He looked up at the sky and let out a huff of airy laughter. "I never thought I'd be this cliche, but there really is no place like home, hmm?"

When Remy saw his friend wandering around, looking far too much like a lead in a drama, he couldn't help rushing up on him to hug him from behind. "Cliches become cliches for a reason," he reasoned with a grin. "Welcome home, Junie."

#;; jun

Travis: But you're my whore. 👉👈 Travis: Hey, we can wait if you're uncomfortable. We can announce when we're both gray and walking with canes. You'd still be mine regardless. Travis: You'd look so hot.

Remy: Shut uppppp Remy: Let's sleep on it. I'm open to it, but we shouldn't rush it. Remy: You're right. I would. 😌