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can we talk about my day?

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Doyoung always knows when Johnny’s had a long day, way before he'll grumpily announce it over dinner. He can tell by the way he slams the door, the lack of greeting as he comes into the living room, and the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he spots Doyoung in the kitchen. 

He doesn’t come up to greet him, doesn’t pull him in by his apron to kiss him against the kitchen counter. He won’t compliment dinner or say that it smells great - most of the time he’ll take one look at Doyoung and seemingly deflate as he sits back against the cushions of the sofa. He’ll sigh so deeply Doyoung worries his husband will simply cease to exist if he complains any louder, and it’s usually his cue to drop what he’s doing in the kitchen, reduce the heat on the stove and pad into the living room to seek out his husband. 

It’s pretty routine, because Doyoung knows he can easily make Johnny’s grumpiness disappear if he just puts in some effort. Johnny will feel much better after, sometimes even guilty for moping in the first place and potentially ruining their evening, and Doyoung will soothe away all those worries and tell him it’s fine. 

Johnny works long days at his law firm and Doyoung is so proud of his husband’s success, he would never hold it against him. He knows it’s his husband’s dream, and he loves being able to support him in it, even with something as simple as being there to come home to. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Doyoung greets him when he sits down on the coffee table in front of Johnny. 

“Hey,” Johnny greets unenthusiastically, tilting his head back over the sofa to stretch his neck.  “I had a long day.” 

“Mhhh,” Doyoung hums, reaching over to loosen the tie around Johnny’s neck, before sliding it through the collar of his shirt and pulling it off. He folds it up neatly and puts it down on the table, knowing he’ll be the one to iron out the creases if he throws it carelessly. “Let’s get you out of this.”

Johnny makes nothing more than a noise of complaint as he leans forward to let Doyoung pull off his suit jacket. He folds it up and places it down over the tie, turning his attention back to his husband. 

“What are you doing?” Johnny asks, frowning as he eyes Doyoung’s hands unbuttoning the top buttons of his dress shirt. 

“Let me make you feel better,” Doyoung offers, glancing up to meet Johnny’s eyes. He leans forward to sit on the edge of the coffee table, tilting Johnny’s chin up with his hand to bring him close enough to kiss. 

He can tell how tense Johnny is by that one kiss. His head is so far away from truly kissing Doyoung, merely mimicking Doyoung’s lips to keep up, so tightly wound up that it does nothing to soothe him. 

“Better?” Doyoung asks, even if it’s very much obvious that it’s not. Instead he puts a hand on Johnny’s thigh, gently nudging them apart, creating just enough room to kneel between them. 

“Seriously?” Johnny asks, sceptical as he quirks an eyebrow, eyeing Doyoung between his legs.

“You’ll feel better, trust me,” Doyoung says, sliding his hand up and down the inside of Johnny’s clothed thigh in a soft teasing manner. 

“Can we talk about my day?” 

“We can do that too,” Doyoung hums, gentle hands toying with the zipper of Johnny’s slacks, “I can multitask.” 

It seems to be the tipping point, Johnny nodding at Doyoung to go on - albeit not very enthusiastically, it’s enough for Doyoung to undo his pants. 

“I feel like I haven’t gotten anything done today,” Johnny complains, closing his eyes as he sinks further into the pillows. 

“Mhhh, I’m sure that’s not true,” Doyoung hums, as he works on shuffling Johnny’s slacks far enough down his hips.

“I have this new intern, god, he’s so annoying ,” Johnny groans out. “Not as annoying as my client.”

“Tell me about that,” Doyoung goes on, as he runs his hand over the waistband of Johnny’s boxers.

“He keeps talking shit about his wife, there’s no way they’re actually getting a settlement. He doesn’t want a settlement, I think he’s just emotionally constipated and wants her back, so he’s drawing out the divorce as long as he can.” 

“Mhh, love it when you talk divorce to me when I’m about to get my hands on your cock.” 

Johnny chuckles breathlessly, his shoulders relaxing a little as he tips his head back against the couch. Doyoung can tell by the short breath he takes, his tummy tightening up a little, that he’s definitely enjoying the way he’s gently stroking over his cock through his underwear, more than he lets in on. The nonchalant way in which he glances down at Doyoung is all part of their stress-relief process. 

“Yeah well he’s an ass, god I hope I never have to divorce you, I can’t stay mad at you for more than five minutes,” Johnny drawls mindlessly, and Doyoung smiles through it, kissing the skin just below Johnny’s belly button. 

“Five minutes?” He murmurs. “I think that’s exaggerating quite a lot, you can’t even stay mad for one minute.” 

“You’re very good at making it up to me, ah,” a soft moan comes through Johnny’s lips, drawn out deep from his chest, and Doyoung smiles in victory against the skin just above Johnny’s underwear. His voice is already softer, his limbs a little more pliant - and Doyoung’s having the desired effect. 

“Yeah?” Doyoung asks, batting his lashes up at his husband just as he looks down.

“Mhh, yeah, how can I stay mad at you when you’re so good to me?” 

Doyoung chuckles, smiling at his husband before his hand dips down to wrap around his half hard cock. He enjoys the way Johnny’s expression changes from a lazily fondness to a surprised gasp, thighs tensing up as Doyoung gently starts moving his hand. He soothes out the dryness by spitting into his palm, lathering it down Johnny’s cock as he pulls down his boxers far enough to get them out of the way. 

“So tell me about that intern that you hate,” Doyoung goes on, giving Johnny short little strokes to get him fully hard. 

“He’s such a perfectionist,” Johnny sighs, a little broken as a moan teases in the back of his throat. “He keeps rearranging everything on my desk to be aligned perfectly, and I’ve told him like fifteen times that I don’t care, I just need him to-” Johnny hisses as Doyoung thumbs over the head of his cock, completely unannounced and cutting him off mid sentence, “fuck .” 

It’s all part of their little game, Doyoung urging Johnny to talk about what’s bothering him while simultaneously working out any frustration behind it with his hand or mouth. Today is no different, and Johnny falls for it just as willingly. 

“You need him to what?” Doyoung asks casually, eyeing his husband’s closed eyes, blissed out expression. 

Johnny looks like he’s in physical pain as he groans, forced to talk about his intern again , “I just need him to stop being such a wuss and get things done. He’s here for research, not to clean up my desk.” 

“Maybe I’ll stop by for lunch tomorrow,” Doyoung contemplates casually, “and he can clean up after you fuck me over your desk.” 

“Yes,” Johnny breathes dreamily, “yeah, fuck, that’s a great idea, I’ll plan in some time for that.” 

“Ooh, I’ll get a time slot in your calendar Mr. Suh?” Doyoung purrs, smirking as he shuffles up closer between Johnny’s legs, just close enough to ghost his breath over Johnny’s cock.

“Mhhh, if I could I’d take the whole afternoon off, fuck you on every surface of my office.” 

“Thought you were busy,” Doyoung asks, dribbling out another trail of spit on his husband’s cock. 

“Yes, very,” Johnny hums, “I have back to back meetings all afternoon tomorrow, but they’re conference calls, maybe I can hide you under the desk.” 

“I don’t think you could keep a straight face if you hid me under the desk,” Doyoung taunts him. It’s just the right thing to say, because Johnny raises an eyebrow as he looks down, as if to challenge Doyoung to it. 

His hand comes down to brush up Doyoung’s shoulder, settling at the nape of his neck, gently pulling him closer. Doyoung goes easily, using his hands pressed against the inside of Johnny’s thighs to steady himself. He lowers his head until his breath is teasing right over Johnny’s cock, eyes drawn up to his face to wait out his reaction. 

After years of practise Doyoung knows just what buttons to push to get Johnny off. They’ve timed it before, out of boredom, and have it down to a good one minute twenty seven seconds. Tonight isn’t like that, and Doyoung lazily takes his time lathering kisses over Johnny’s cock, putting his mouth to the tip only to give little kittenish licks to it, teasing him until there’s a nervous shift to Johnny’s hips and Doyoung finally, finally sinks his mouth down around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Johnny curses, hips stuttering under Doyoung no matter Doyoung’s attempts to push him down. “Oh fuck, that’s good.” 

Doyoung sets a leisurely pace, giving himself time to adjust to it. Johnny’s hand at the back of his head is impatient, and he can tell just how wound up his husband is, how much he needs this. 

“You’re so good at this,” Johnny whines, like it’s an actual complaint.

Doyoung pulls off with a short breath, wrapping his hand back around Johnny’s cock, licking his lips. “I thought you were talking about your day?” 

“Don’t be like this,” Johnny sighs, eyes narrowing down on Doyoung. 

“I haven’t heard about your lunch break yet, tell me who you had lunch with,” Doyoung teases, using his thumb to tease over the head of Johnny’s cock. 

“Fuck, fine,” Johnny looks unamused for a moment, before Doyoung puts his mouth back on his cock. “Yesss , okay, yeah - lunch, I had lunch with-”

Johnny gasps, moaning loud and broken as his other hand grips the decorative pillow on the sofa next to them so hard it might just tear, not that Johnny would miss them very much. 

Doyoung meets his eyes, a look fond and awaiting, contrasting the way he’s taking Johnny’s cock into his mouth until the tip is hitting the back of his throat. 

“With-” Johnny tries again, but the way Doyoung’s tongue massages the underside of his cock has him keening, unable to form words. “With Mark,” he finally utters out, “and it was awful, he talked about the wedding for over an hour and all I could do was hear him out.”

“When is that again, next weekend, right?” Doyoung pulls off to ask.

“Stop talking about my co-workers wedding and get your mouth back on my dick,” Johnny complains, hand curling up around Doyoung’s neck to bring him closer, guiding his cock back to his mouth. “It is next weekend, and ahh-

Doyoung’s taking his cock down until it teases at the back of his throat, and then some more until his gag reflex kicks in and he gently eases back. He breathes in through his nose, trying to relax his throat, get used to the intrusion so he’ll be able to let Johnny fuck his mouth. 

Johnny’s stopped talking altogether, and Doyoung looks up at him, meeting his eyes to taunt him to keep going.

“And I hate weddings, and fuck, I can’t keep talking I need to-”

And that’s the tipping point that Doyoung’s been seeking out. He wants to get here, where Johnny feels so good he doesn’t think about his workday anymore or all the stress factors, he’s out of his head and all his overthinking and he’s right here for Doyoung to take apart. 

He puts Johnny’s free hand at the back of his head, keeping his eyes trained on his husband, trying to convey that it’s okay.

“Can I?” Johnny asks as he sinks his fingers into Doyoung’s hair, getting a good grip. Doyoung doesn’t say anything, which is a sign for Johnny to go on. He gently cants his hips forward, cock pushing back into Doyoung’s throat. After a few more shy thrusts he’s setting a shallow pace, fucking in and out with short thrusts to chase his own orgasm. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Doyoung relaxes under it, lets his eyes fall shut as he goes plaint under Johnny, jaw slack to let his mouth be used. “You’re just made for this, aren’t you?” 

Doyoung can’t exactly answer that, but the way he hums around Johnny’s cock as if to prove how much he likes it, should be convincing enough. 

“Look at me,” Doyoung has just enough coherency to do that, peeling his eyes open to meet Johnny’s. He can only imagine how he looks, spit dribbling down his chin as his lips stretch thin around Johnny’s cock. “Fuck, you look so pretty with a cock down your throat.” 

Doyoung’s cheeks heat up, no matter how often they’ve done this - the way Johnny talks to him always has him blushing, heat churning in his tummy as he reaches down to fix his half-hard cock in his sweats. 

When he looks back up at Johnny, his husband’s eyes are closed, lips parted as he breathes shallowly, thighs quivering with every little push inside. “Fuck, Doyoung, I’m close-”

Doyoung let’s up a little, hand covering Johnny’s cock to get him off instead. “Yeah? You’re gonna come for me?” 

“Yes,” Johnny hisses, eyes pressing shut when Doyoung’s finger and thumb circle around the head of his cock, quick little strokes that have his thighs quivering. “Fuck, Doyoung, yeah, I’m gonna-”

“Not on your suit,” Doyoung warns him, knowing all too well how difficult it is to get these stains out. He watches Johnny’s face, eyes trailing over his body to watch his tummy tense up, muscles of his thighs tightening up, takes it as his sign to put his mouth back over his cock. 

Johnny whines through his orgasm, moans falling from his lips as Doyoung works the pleasure out of him, until he’s spilling into Doyoung’s mouth. Doyoung swallows it down, making sure to not let anything spill on Johnny’s suit, and tries to catch his breath. 

“Do we have a gift for Mark’s wedding yet?” Doyoung asks after a moment of silence, frowning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Can you not talk about another man when you have my come in your mouth?” 

“Oh please you big baby,” Doyoung scoffs, leaning back over the coffee table to grab a tissue. He wipes Johnny down, tucks his softening cock back into his pants before he zips them up. “Better?” 

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees, still breathing heavily as he focuses his attention back down on Doyoung. “You have a little-” he reaches out to swipe his thumb over the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, before pushing it in between his lips to let him lick it off. 

Doyoung fits his lips around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks to suck it down, the obscenity of it causing Johnny to frown. 

“Really?” He asks, glancing at Doyoung for a moment, before his face softens. “C’mere.” 

He pulls Doyoung up, grabbing his hips to settle him down in his lap, not missing the way Doyoung’s cock tents the soft sweatpants he’s wearing, now grazing over Johnny’s thigh.

Johnny kisses him, eager and responsive as their lips push and pull. Doyoung sighs back into it, pleasure pooling in his gut as Johnny’s tongue pushes between his lips. 

“Did you get hard sucking me off?” Johnny says teasingly against his mouth, hand ‘accidentally’ grazing over Doyoung’s cock before he settles it on his hips.  

Doyoung pulls away and whines in shame, “don’t be mean.” 

“I’m not mean,” Johnny laughs breathlessly, definitely with a little mean undertone. “It’s hot.” 

Doyoung keens and kisses him again, hands grabbing Johnny’s shoulders for leverage, pulling himself closer so his now fully hard cock is pressing into Johnny’s thigh. 

“Do you wanna get yourself off on my thigh?” Johnny offers, and god fuck that’s exactly what Doyoung wants, hips jerking sloppily up against Johnny at the suggestion. 

“Yes,” Doyoung utters impatiently, pulling away from Johnny’s mouth just long enough to get the words out. 

“Go on then baby,” Johnny offers, hand settling lower on Doyoung’s hips to pull him down. Doyoung carefully shifts his hips around until his cock is pressing down right over Johnny’s thigh, and every little inch he moves drags gently against the fabric of his pants and up against his cock. 

“Oh,” a small moan escapes Doyoung’s mouth in surprise, body going pliant as he relaxes into Johnny, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck. 

Johnny’s hand sinks down from his hip to cup his ass, fingers splayed out to grab it, pulling Doyoung down against him as he starts to roll his hips down. 

“I think we got the blender for Mark's wedding, right?” Johnny pitches casually.  

“Yeah,” Doyoung breathes against Johnny’s neck, hands digging into Johnny’s shoulders to grab him, using the leverage to drive his hips down faster. 

“I’m pretty sure I heard Taeyong talk about getting him a blender too-” 

“Motherfucker,” Doyoung curses, hips stuttering as he grinds them into Johnny’s thighs. “I told him that they needed a blender, that’s not fair .” 

“Mhh, love it when you get angry about kitchen appliances when you’re grinding on me,” Johnny hums, squeezing Doyoung’s ass for good measure. 

“It’s not funny, I’m fucking livid,” Doyoung bites out, “I, ahhh-” he’s not prepared for Johnny’s thigh suddenly pressing up against him.

“You’re what?” 

Done,” Doyoung hisses, “done talking about this, talk to me about something else.” 

“Hmm, something else?” Johnny teases, “what should we talk about? Should I tell you how good you are?” 

“Yes,” Doyoung pants, nodding shakily as he grazes his lips over Johnny’s throat. 

“Yeah baby, does it feel good getting yourself off on my thigh?” 

“Mhhh,” Doyoung murmurs, “yeah, really good. Love your body so much.” 

“You only love me for my body?” Johnny poses.

“It’s a plus,” Doyoung hums, voice a little shaky as he’s trying to breathe through how good it feels to grind his cock down onto Johnny’s thigh. It’s very bare minimum and Doyoung should be embarrassed by how much he likes this, but finds after so many years of marriage there’s very little to still feel embarrassed over. The fact that they can still enjoy this, even after years of marriage, fills Doyoung’s heart with so much fondness. “Love how strong you are.” 

“Mh, you like that? Like it when I toss you around, hold you up against the wall when I fuck you?” 

“Yes, yes , fuck, love it when you do that to me,” Doyoung pants back, and he doesn’t know what’s worse - how hard he is just rubbing his cock up against his husband’s thighs, or how his words seem to be making it worse. “Love it when you get home and take your stress out on me.” 

“Hm, I love coming home to you, you take care of me so well,” Johnny murmurs, moving one hand up to the back of Doyoung’s neck. He pulls him back far enough to press their lips together, kissing him soft and tender, Doyoung’s breath coming in quick and hushed. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” Doyoung murmurs back, eyes slipping shut as he buries his forehead against Johnny’s shoulder, chest heaving as he tries to breathe through the heat coursing through him. 

“Are you close baby?” Johnny asks quietly, so soft and Doyoung’s so close he thinks he might start begging if he doesn’t get to come soon. 

“Yeah,” Doyoung breathes, “fuck, yes Johnny, I’m close-”

“Are you gonna come for me baby? Are you gonna be a good boy and come for me?”

“Yes, yes,” Doyoung hisses, writhing his hips down in short little shaky movements. 

“Come for me then, baby, go on,” Johnny praises right into his ear and Doyoung loses it, hips jerking as he grinds his cock down into Johnny’s thigh, the final push before he’s coming inside his pants. 

It’s a terrible decision, he comes to realise this about thirty seconds after, whining as he peels himself from Johnny, leaning back to get a good look at his husband. 

“Gross,” he complains, pouting down at his husband. 

“Yes, you are,” Johnny agrees. He helps Doyoung to his feet, settling a hand on his lower back. “How about I finish up dinner, and you take a shower?” 

“Yeah?” Doyoung asks, looking up at Johnny, “that sounds perfect.” 

Johnny leans down to kiss him, hand sneaking down to squeeze his ass playfully. Doyoung giggles against his mouth, drawing the kiss out just a little longer, before they break apart and Doyoung disappears into the bathroom.