busy-bees
They work too hard, chase their goals too fiercely, and rarely slow down — except for each other. After three weeks of late-night calls and restless longing, the two finally reunite for a night filled with emotional honesty with breathless intimacy. In each other’s arms, they let ambition fall away and surrender to everything they’ve been holding back.
cw: fluff, smut, gunil x afab reader, dry humping, penetrative sex.
The apartment greeted you first with darkness, then with the faint glow of a desk lamp left on in the corner — one of his habits you teased him a lot for. Music sheets fanned across the table, a half-finished cup of coffee –dark just how he liked it, cooling beside a stack of notes. It’s the kind of chaos he insisted was “controlled.”
You closed the door behind you, exhaling as though you had been holding your breath for the past three weeks.
From the bedroom hallway Gunil emerged, hair slightly messy, with the sleeves of his hoodies rolled to his elbows, eyes softening as soon as he saw her.
“You’re early,” he said, but his voice was already tilting with relief.
You shrugged out of your coat. “My flight arrived ahead of schedule.”
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve — ” Gunil made his way to you, his lips curled into a pout of disapproval, and your eyes lit with affection.
“ — Waited at the gate? Rushed through traffic?” You smiled. “It’s okay, baby. I wanted to see your face at home first.”
Something flickered in his expression — tender, unguarded. He crossed the room and pulled you into a tight embrace, his hand steady at the back of your head. “God, I missed you.”
You let out a breath that trembled a little, like you’ve been holding your facade up for too long. “I know. I missed you too.”
You just stood there, just breathing each other in. The kind of moment that made time feel gentler, kinder. Outside, the muted sound of Seoul’s evening softened into a low murmur.
After a while he leaned back to look at you properly.
“You look so exhausted, you know. Did they overwork you, again?” he said.
You raised an eyebrow, scanned his face and found him obviously lacking sleep. “Well, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Well, I took a nap, I fell asleep sometimes — things like that.” He chuckled sheepishly, curling his lips before he sighed. He was also exhausted, and thinking about how messed up his sleep has been almost made him feel guilty towards himself. You only stared at him, as if demanding an explanation, but truly you’re so worried about him.
Gunil just shrugged, flashing his boyish smile again as if to show you that everything is completely fine. “It’s just deadlines. The usual.”
You skimmed your fingers down his forearm, reading him like a familiar book. “You push too hard. You always do, and I’m so worried about you”
“Don’t be funny. It takes one to know one.” You laughed quietly, and he smirked like he’d scored a small victory.
He took your bag and set it aside, then stroked a hand down your back. “Come here, love.”
They walked into the bedroom together, not quite touching, but orbiting close — like two stars nudged into the same gravity again after drifting too far.
The lamp by the bed glowed warm gold. Gunil sat down on the edge of the mattress and patted the space beside him. You joined, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“Tell me about your trip,” he said.
“Long days. Meetings. Presentations. I barely saw daylight.” You blinked a few times, eyes tired from working nonstop.
“Did they appreciate you?” Gunil’s arm crept around your back, and his hand rested just a bit below your waist.
You huffed, and Gunil could sense annoyance in your voice. “Does anyone ever appreciate anyone in this line of work?” Everyone in this line of work gets angry, working a corporate job does not sound as hard as the actual toll it takes on the workers, after all.
He tipped her chin up gently, “I hope you know that I do. I always do. You’re my pride, my love.”
That disarmed you more than you wanted to admit.
You brushed your thumbs over the faint shadows under his eyes. “You’re overworking yourself again.”
He smiled, leaning into your touch, “Sadly, more than I’d like to admit.”
You shifted onto his lap, straddling him, your knees on either side of his hips. The motion surprised him, but he held your waist like he’d been waiting for this, for you.
“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, resting your chin on top of his shoulder. The closeness of your breathing against his ear sent chills down his spine.
“Why?” Gunil asked –prying, to be exact. His fingers mindlessly played with the hem of your dress, inhaling the scent of the perfume that he got you last month –just before you left for three weeks for work.
“So on nights when you feel especially tired, or maybe have a hard time sleeping,” You paused and pressed your forehead on his, “I could help you out. Just like this.”
You swayed your hips softly against his, the friction of his covered length against your core made you whimper. “We could’ve done it over the phone, dummy.” You chuckled, keeping things lighthearted.
“Fuck, baby.” It came out more as a grunt, like something in him lit up from your touches.
Gunil’s grip on your waist tightened as he put your body grounded and guided you to move slowly, just as he pulled you close to capture your lips in between his. Your hands slipped into his hair, and he sighed into your mouth.
His hands moved up towards your back and your neck, pulling you even closer to deepen the kiss before he unzipped your dress. The feeling of his calloused fingers and palms on your bare back made you shiver. Gunil helped you remove your dress, revealing yourself in your black undergarments.
“My darling love,” he kissed the skin above your breasts, and you could feel the warmth of his open mouth as he sucked on the skin until it bloomed in shades of bright red. “Always so beautiful when you’re on top of me, just like this.” The way Gunil held and touched you was full of reverence — like you’re something so sacred and so fragile.
You unzipped his hoodie swiftly in return, revealing the smooth skin of his body under your hands. You said this countless times before, about how beautiful Gunil was, like his body was sculpted with so much care and love. You leaned forward once again to kiss him, tongue tangled with his sweet and smooth one.
You continued to sway your hips against his now semi-hard length, and you could feel yourself getting wet down there by the second. The scene was almost too erotic, but Gunil tugged a loose strand of hair behind your ear and cupped your face gently with his hand. You pulled back to see his face: his eyes wide and filled with pleasure, his lips red, wet, and parted open like he wanted more of you.
“Baby, wanna feel you inside me.” you whispered softly, it fell almost like a plea. “I missed you. I missed it when you fuck me just how you like it.”
Gunil couldn’t take it when you’re in that state — surrendering your body for his pleasure, and so desperate for him to touch you more.
“Just how I like it?” Gunil teased you, his lips stretched into a thin smile. “Like how? Tell me.”
Gunil pressed his thumb over your clothed womanhood, now damp from how wet you got from the past few minutes of humping his thighs. You could only whimper breathlessly, and it was almost pathetic. Because it’s so unlike you –to be put in your place and let anything at all be done to you. But you’d be okay with it, always okay, as long as it’s with Gunil.
“A-ah, want you to bend me over and fuck me rough. I wanna ride you on your chair.” It was not easy forming these sentences, not with the way Gunil’s thumb pressing over your clit, and not with the way the thought of him handling you roughly turned you on even more.
“Hm, is that all?” Gunil increased his pace, rubbing circles over your now soaked panties.
“Fuck me raw, come inside me. Please.” You kept on biting your lower lip, suppressing the sound of your moan but the words you slurred out were… dirty to say the least.
Gunil loved it because it’s a secret only he knows about. You’re always strict and perfect on the outside, efficient and critical in your movement — but that was all only a facade you’ll gladly remove when you’re with him, for him.
“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you.” Gunil smiled, satisfied with your answer.
He then shrugged his hoodie off, before flipping you on the top of your shared bed. Gunil caressed the small of your back before giving your back side a squeeze. “Wish you could take a look at yourself, love. So fucking soft and delicate for me.”
He pulled you by the rear, so you’re on all four while Gunil stood behind you — finger firmly pressed on your waist. Gunil then pulled his pants down to reveal his full hard-on, protruding proudly against his abs as he inched closer to you.
“Fuck, look at what you did.” You couldn’t see it but Gunil was referring to the fact that he was already leaking from you humping his thigh. The tip of his length is red, covered with the white of his precum. The pause was only for a mere second before you felt his tip rubbed against your folds, and the feeling had you moaning. “Please, please. Don’t tease me, I’ve been so good, haven’t I?”
His breath faltered — just slightly — at the way you pleaded. He loved that you trusted him enough to unravel like this, to fall apart in his hands without fear.
“Not at all, my sweet love. Not with the way you were teasing me.” he murmured at your desperation, voice dropping into something warm and dark. The way he called you by these names sent you to an overdrive. “I don’t plan on teasing you for long, though. You’ve been such a good girl at work, after all. Haven’t you? Consider this your reward for being such a good girl at work.”
You felt him lean in, the heat of his body hovering close behind yours. His hands slid up your sides, steady, grounding, and filled with longing in that quiet way he always touched you when he had missed you too much. He pulled you close against him once, letting you feel each inch of his length inside you — just the way you love it: slow and rough.
Your body arched into him instinctively.
He lowered his mouth to your shoulder, lips brushing your skin with slow, deliberate affection — far gentler than the position you were in.
The contrast made your breath catch.
Gunil let you settle down with his length inside you before his hips moved –almost too slowly at a time. That way, he could feel just how perfect to have you wrapped around his cock like this, like your bodies were made for each other. Time and distance wouldn’t matter if it’s true that you were made for each other.
“You always come back to me like this,” Gunil whispered against your skin, the tone almost proud, almost reverent. “So ready. So sure.”
His fingers traced the curve of your waist, memorizing, relearning. You felt him pause, to take in the sight of you.
“Tell me something,” he said quietly, smoothing his thumb over your hip.
“Three weeks away… did you think about this?” Your fingers curled into the sheets as he moved your body against him –a soft push, and then a pull almost too forceful.
You nodded, barely managing to form a sound. “Ah-h fuck, every single night.”
Gunil let out a low hum, pleased. “Yeah? Thought about my hands on you like this?”
His palms slid along your hips, guiding you back a little, until you felt the warm, steady weight of him pressed close — close enough that your entire body reacted. His hands then moved to palm your mounds, and he’d always known the right way to touch you, to get you to moan his name.
“Thought about my voice?” His lips brushed the back of your neck, leaving an open-mouth kiss there, sending heat spiraling down your spine.
“Thought about the way you say my name?” he breathed, almost tender.
You swallowed hard. “Yes… all of it. Been wanting you for weeks now, Gunil. I touched myself thinking about you.”
That answer seemed to pull something tight inside him. His hand drifted from your waist to your lower back, steadying you, grounding you, drawing you closer inch by inch until your breath stuttered. He pressed you down against the mattress, his hand felt rough against the nape of your neck.
“Good girl, my pretty girl.” he whispered, he kissed you along your spine like it was a ritual — like he was worshipping you.
Your forehead fell against your forearm as the tension built and built — sweet, hot, dizzying.
He eased a hand under your stomach to support you still, holding you in that quiet, protective way he always resorted to when desire and affection tangled too tightly inside him.
“You feel this?” he murmured, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear. “This is all for you.” He thrusted deeper and more, keeping his pace up as if chasing for his own high.
The feeling of his cock moving inside you, warm, heavy, intimate — made your knees weaken. It was the feeling of being so adored and desired, not just by anyone, but by Gunil. It was the feeling of reuniting with the love of your life after weeks of being away, just like this — impossibly close to each other and yet never close enough. These feelings kept you going, moving your own hips against his own.
You nodded helplessly, the words barely forming. “Please… just — ”
His hand tightened over your hip, a silent reassurance. “I know,” he said softly, “I’ve got you, my love.”
He guided your movements with slow, deliberate precision, letting the anticipation steep until you were nearly trembling.
The room felt too warm. Too still. Too full of the two of you. Gunil leaned forward, chest brushing your back, enveloping you fully as he tightened his hold around your waist, pulling you closer, guiding you deeper into him, grounding you with each movement. When he finally drew you back against him fully, your breath stuttered and a soft sound escaped your throat — a sound he caught with a quiet, shuddering exhale of his own. You felt so full and satiated, maybe in an almost poetic manner, when you felt him filling you up to the brim.
Your fingers clutched the sheets, the world narrowing to the rhythm he set, to the heat of his body against yours, to the soft rumble of his voice near your ear.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone almost in awe. “Three weeks apart and you fall apart the second I touch you.” Gunil teased you, but the way he helped you straighten your legs as he lay down next to you was one simple move filled with such tenderness and affection.
Your reply dissolved into breath, too raw to shape.
“Stay with me,” he whispered into your skin, voice trembling with something deeper than desire. “We have all night. I’m not letting you go again.”
And on the weekend, that was probably all you wanted to do: to relive the feeling of being under each other’s skin, or simply feeling his heartbeat under your ear — sweet and steady, as he is.