#johnhyuck smut

“I have a drink for you Mark!” you announce, and the man in question looks up at you, blinking like a deer in headlights. “Don’t worry, yours is virgin,” you tease, setting the platter down next to his empty water bottle so you can retrieve the glass sporting a red umbrella from between two blues. 

“I really shouldn’t-” Mark sighs, but you put the drink in his hands, knowing he can’t refuse anything you literally shove at his chest- this includes things like sandwiches at lunch time, and sometimes even swim trunks on days where the Californian heat is pretty much unbearable- but only on Johnny’s orders, as your diligent worker never complains or takes breaks unless forced. 

“You know it’s no bother,” you remind the pretty boy for the hundredth time since he started working for your husband a year and a half ago. “I make one for Johnny, so making one for you takes no extra time at all.” 

“Speaking of him,” Mark sips his drink, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun while he looks in the direction of your husband’s home office, “don’t you ever feel weird about the fact that you can’t uh-”

“Can’tsee inside?” you suggest, knowing this is a problem many people have with Johnny’s eccentric office add on, that had been created with elements from some of the most iconic houses of mid century modern architecture. 

“Yeah.” 

Most people inquire about Johnny’s ‘box’ when they first arrive- and Mark has been around so long you’ve almost forgotten that he’s never actually asked for an explanation from you- 

His own cousin, Jeno, had been particularly interested in your husbands office the summer before, and while Johnny hadn’t even shown the man inside - opting instead to have fun by the pool to not mix up work and play - Jeno, like everyone else, had received a nice little rundown on the architectural wonder that is ‘The BoxOffice.’ 

You’re reminded that this is why Johnny loves the young Canadian so much: because he doesn’t ask questions.

Mark is just what you and your husband need in a pool boy, and when you look toward Johnny’s home office, you know he’s inside, looking back out. 

“Johnny likes it that way,” you say finally, thinking about the numerous occasions you’ve cum on your husbands cock while watching Mark Lee clean your pool, with your face pressed to glass, feeling dirty- heart racing as it always does, no matter how many times Johnny fucks you in his office, at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Mark can see you- 

“The reflective window film takes a little while to get used to,” you admit, “but trust me, Johnny’s not watching you all day, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No it’s not that,” Mark frowns, “and i mean- i know it’s not me he’d be watching-”

You laugh at his insinuation, enjoying the way his ears flare with colour, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mark Lee.”

Your pool boy attempts to cool himself down by tilting his glass, pouring the remaining ice slush past his lips and swallowing thickly before wiping at the back of his mouth with a hand. 

“Thanks for the drink,” the man, who Johnny had once called ‘pretty enough to entice, but too awkward to ever be a threat’ places his emptied cup onto the table next to your hip, “i should really be going, but thanks again-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Mark,” you interrupt his usual goodbye fumblings with a dismissal, and you leave the Canadian to find his own way off the property, retrieving your drinks to continue with your 5:00 task, which is to go greet your husband with refreshments after a long day’s work…

architectural modern reflective window inspo: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

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