we meet again.

Three.

Life was hectic, but Xiaojun loved it that way. He didn't get why Amy was so concerned, he just had a lot to do, and with a guy with the sort of aspirations he has, he needed to work. He had a lot to prove to his dad, his boss, and most importantly, himself. 

So when he was out with Kun, running some errands. He almost choked on his own breath when he asked him about Hendery. "What do you mean, have I called him or not?" 

"Listen, it was Ten, not me. I couldn't care less about your miserable love life." He shoved the phone in his face, showing a text from Ten. He then smirked, almost holding back a smile. "It almost scares me sometimes how much you remind me of my younger self." 

Kun started walking back again, and Xiaojun stood there almost frozen in time. He really didn't give Hendery that much thought after he saw him at the gallery. Yes, it was very nostalgic, and he might've felt a little bit turned on by the beard, the tattoos, and the piercings. But that was about it; he wasn't going to indulge in his fantasies no matter how much he wanted. 

"Are you coming?" Kun yelled at him from across the street, and he hurriedly followed. He decided to brush the idea of Hendery off his mind, but of course, his boss wouldn't let him. So as soon as he got into the car, he spoke. "You're going to call him or what?" 

"Why is everyone concerned about my love life except me? I'm doing pretty well for myself, thank you very much." Xiaojun huffed as he grabbed the papers lying on the car's dashboard and started examining them. "I think we need to look at the CCTV cameras across the street from Mrs. Nam-Il. She might not be telling us the truth." 

"Ten is throwing a Thanksgiving dinner, and he is going to invite you and Hendery. Don't tell him I told you that, so I think you should give him a call before that." Kun said as he undid his jacket's button and leaned his head back. "Also, I already got Norah to do that. See? I hate this part where I have to do your job for you." 

"I'm not calling him because I don't even have his number." Xiaojun shuffled through the papers again, trying to avoid the subject and hoping that was enough excuse to shut him up.

"Easily remedied," Kun said as he pulled a business card. Xiaojun looked at him, confused. "Ten had me carry it around until you asked me for it. But obviously, the thought hasn't even crossed your mind." 

"I am not going to call him." He shook his head. "Even if I wanted, what would I even say? We...we have history; him and I. And I definitely don't need the drama right now." He explained as Kun looked at him confused. 

"Yeah..you never told me about that." He sat up and turned to Xiaojun, eager to hear his answer. "How did you even know him?"

"He grew up next door." Xiaojun was uncomfortable; he never talked about his feelings, especially not with Kun. He wasn't going to start now. "We just drifted off. And you know me, I don't like people popping up from my past. They know too much." 

"So you're just not going to do it?" Kun sighed, obviously frustrated; he wanted to look after his protege. It was true that their job was their everything. But when he thought about it, Ten saved his life. He was just living, but he made him happy and gave him joy. And that made all the difference. He wanted the same thing for Xiaojun, not only because he loved him and cared about him like his little brother. But because Xiaojun reminded him too much of himself, it wasn't necessarily a good thing. 

"Can we just drop it, please? I really have so much on my plate already." He groaned as he closed the file he was looking at and turned to Kun. "If I say I will think about it, will you drop it?" And as Kun nodded excitedly, he rolled his eyes and took the business card from him. "Okay."

After a long day between courtrooms and running around New York City to meet with clients, Xiaojun finally collapsed on his couch. The apartment suddenly seemed to hallow and depressing since Amy was out on a date. He sighed as he turned on the TV. 

When he kept flicking between channels and nothing caught his interest, he decided to turn it off and maybe work on a couple cases he brought home from the office. But when he pulled his files, a business card fell to the floor. It took him a minute to pick it up, and then he started flipping it between his hands.

And suddenly, Kun's words from early are all he can hear in his head. He tried to shake it off as he threw the business card on the coffee table. But the image of Hendery popped into his mind; he was now feeling all hot and sweaty. He undid his tie as he tried to relax on the couch and maybe forget about it, but he couldn't. 

And to make matters worst, his night with Hendery from 12 years ago decided to replay in his mind. Surprisingly, he didn't forget any part of that night. Not how he kissed Hendery first, not when Hendery pulled him back after he pulled away the first time, and not how awkward and bad they were since it was their first time. 

Xiaojun bit his lower lip as he smiled at the memories, gosh. How he missed him. He leaned his head back again, and as he became harder, he could already feel the tightness in his jeans. He slid the tips of his fingers beneath his waistline with hesitation. He sucked in an uneasy breath through his nose while running his fingers through the coarse hair there. His fingers found their way to his zipper, which he carefully lowered. He took a deep breath and yanked his jeans down his thighs, pulling his boxers behind him. He grabbed his c**k and coaxed it to the full mast with a few fast strokes.

He rubbed his thumb over the tip and smeared precum along his length. Behind his closed eyes, pictures of Hendery with his beard, tattoos, and piercings flashed. He inhaled deeply and tried to concentrate on the movement of his fingers up and down his c**k. His grasp on his c**k intensified. With his other hand, he kneaded his balls and pressed his thumb into the base of his length. He sighed and bent his head, his eyes closed. His thighs began to tremble as he continued to jerk himself. His abdominal muscles strained, and he felt a familiar warmth develop between his legs.

As he moved his thumb over his slit, sliding more moisture over his head, the sensation grew more assertive. As he felt the ecstasy growing, he pushed his hips and drove his c**k deeper into his hand. Just as he felt warm c*m flow over his palm and stomach, he immediately ripped up his t-shirt. He leaned against the wall and inhaled deeply. Sweat was beading down his hairline, and he could feel it. He sat and looked at the mess he made and murmured, "f**k!"