[For a long while, the illusion holds. Maybe he had liked that peaceful stroll home as the sun set, inane run-in with some neighbor housewife aside. Maybe he does enjoy the inside jokes, teasing words in his earpiece and from the opposite seat in the living room. Their living room. And then he catches himself, in time to pull back just enough. There's a lull in their easy conversation, the smallest gap splitting up their laughter, and Yujin can't help but wonder whether Stephen is measuring that distance, too.
That thought is still on his mind, whiskey halfway to his mouth, when Stephen speaks. Yujin hums in mild surprise as the glass meets his lips and he takes a sip from his own half-emptied glass. Time flies when you're having fun, he supposes-- and it's all too easy to forget he's having fun with Stephen.]
That time already? I ought to turn in.
[He raises a quizzical brow at the whiskey in his glass as he swirls it about. Coming home and retiring from the routine is the best part of it, really: there are no clues to the orb waiting for him at the office tomorrow, nor anything more exciting than a mound of paperwork. For both of their safety, he'll need to maintain the facade. And yet.]
Eventually. [A twist of the lip; his gaze flickering Stephen's way.] Do you know? This is, by far, the dullest on-mission job I've ever had. Some days I do hardly anything. If we didn't have a cover story to maintain I'd simply stay at home with you.
[The words have left his mouth before he can catch them, blame the whiskey. But it'll be far worse if he tries to recall them. Yujin lets them be, praying Stephen doesn't read into them (plausible? if he hopes very hard?), and settles back into his armchair again to take another swig of liquor.]
no subject
That thought is still on his mind, whiskey halfway to his mouth, when Stephen speaks. Yujin hums in mild surprise as the glass meets his lips and he takes a sip from his own half-emptied glass. Time flies when you're having fun, he supposes-- and it's all too easy to forget he's having fun with Stephen.]
That time already? I ought to turn in.
[He raises a quizzical brow at the whiskey in his glass as he swirls it about. Coming home and retiring from the routine is the best part of it, really: there are no clues to the orb waiting for him at the office tomorrow, nor anything more exciting than a mound of paperwork. For both of their safety, he'll need to maintain the facade. And yet.]
Eventually. [A twist of the lip; his gaze flickering Stephen's way.] Do you know? This is, by far, the dullest on-mission job I've ever had. Some days I do hardly anything. If we didn't have a cover story to maintain I'd simply stay at home with you.
[The words have left his mouth before he can catch them, blame the whiskey. But it'll be far worse if he tries to recall them. Yujin lets them be, praying Stephen doesn't read into them (plausible? if he hopes very hard?), and settles back into his armchair again to take another swig of liquor.]