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working overtime • bae joohyun

prompt: you got home late from work and Irene was waiting, not exactly pleased. full credit to wintermountain on AO3

pairing: bae joohyun x male reader.

genre: fluff & slice of life

word count: 2755

You pull into your home's driveway, peeking at the clock on your dashboard before turning off the engine of your car.

It's a few minutes before one in the morning. You sigh into the steering wheel with one hand rubbing the back of your neck. Pressing one side a little too hard, a sharp inhale escapes. Working overtime too often really takes a toll on you.

Walking towards your front door, you wonder where the moving lights on your windows are from. The television? Is she still awake? Did Irene stay up till you came? Realizing that someone waited for you to come home after a long day of work makes you feel happy, warm, needed and loved. It takes a bit of the fatigue off. Yet you can't also help but feel sorry for the one waiting at the opposite side of the door.

You fumble with your keys and enter home, it was pretty dark save for the light emitted by the screen. It was too late for late night news and it was time for the repetitive infomercials. The ones where the host convinces you to 'call now!' because getting 'not one, not two, but three!' super absorbent sponges are such a great deal.

There she is. Sitting on the living room couch wrapped up in her favorite, strikingly yellow blanket. It had little baby chicks and baby ducklings printed on it. You two got it on sale, and it's the only linen she allows on your bed to not match the room's interiors. She insisted that all bed sheets and pillow covers are only of a neutral color. Mostly beiges, whites, browns or grays. Because 'it matches the walls and the furniture. And we have to make our bedroom 'balanced'' you remember her saying with her two hands connecting to make a straight line. You chuckled because you couldn't care less, really. But apparently, when she sees the said blanket, it's suddenly an exception and 'we have to buy it because it's on sale and the poor little chicks and ducklings need a home' and who are you to resist the cutest pout, the most endearing eyes, and that 50% off price tag.

Thing is about Irene, she has two sides of her. One, the lady boss, strong woman, 'got her shit together' side. She knows the right thing to say and do at the right moment. She seems to have everything figured out that you honestly can't live without her because otherwise, life will be utter chaos and nothing will be right. The woman can handle herself and she knows it.

The second, the cute and innocent side. Laughs at the slightest of things. Loves getting attention from you but curls when you look at her a moment too long. She enjoys cuddles, warm baths, and starts professing her undying love for you after 2 shots of soju.

"You're still up?" you manage to whisper past your dry throat.

Irene looks up from the television then toward you. Tired, more so worried looking eyes but still so beautiful. How long has she been trying to stay awake?

You stare back and don't say anything. Was she waiting for you to say more? You don't really know. Your head's muddled. Is it because you're tired? Or is it because the way the warm light from the lamp hits Irene's face makes her so fucking stunning it makes you want to kiss her senseless.

"Yup" she switches off the TV before she gets up "I'll be off to bed. Go take a shower. Your towel and clothes are by the sink"

She turns her back from you and towards the stairs. Not even a good night kiss.

The water from the showerhead was almost scalding, making your skin turn pink. You did your best to scrub the exhaustion off your body, but even trying to massage your scalp didn't work. It would've if she did it. Irene, she had this little thing where she likes slipping into the shower with you. Spoiling you by washing your hair, running her fingers through, lathering your body with soap, making sure no part of your body misses her touch, before carefully rinsing you off. Nothing too much happens and not too often, though. Well, maybe kisses on the shoulder blade and a few along the jaw. She confessed she enjoyed taking care of you and feeling you. She says it's a reminder all of this is real and not just a dream. You hummed in agreement, staring at her, all of her. Lifting a hand to run slowly and lightly against her smooth, wet skin, as if memorizing every line, every mole, though you're convinced you know it all by heart. You love this woman just as much if not more. If you could give her all the best things in the world, you would. Because she deserves it and she's so much more than what you prayed for.