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Donghyuck can feel the movement of every single person in this house. He can hear the sweat dripping down his back, twinkling across his skin, louder than the sound of yelling and moaning and roaring, thumping music. His fingers are itching to grab onto something—maybe it’s the bright stripes of light that follow his movement but disappear when he chases them. Maybe it’s someone’s hair.
When Jaemin pressed the small square of paper onto Donghyuck’s tongue earlier that night, he took it with little hesitance and even less faith that it would work. The last time Jaemin had tried buying LSD was from a random dude at the underpass, and he lost eighty-five bucks for printer paper coated in rice flour. He moaned about it for an hour while Donghyuck had the task of grinding, packing, and repacking the bowl. Luckily, his work was enough to motivate Jaemin into bed.
It’s safe to say that whoever Jaemin got it from this time was legit.He peels his jacket off his back and drops it on the floor to be forgotten. He’s so thirsty, but he knows better than to have a beer right now and Jaemin’s tap water tastes like blood and dirt. He smacks his lips as he finds his way to the kitchen in hopes of finding some ice in the freezer to suck on.
There’s Hawaiian punch in the fridge and he fills a solo cup to the brim with ice and juice, making a mess across the counter. He dips his fingers in the puddle he’s made and watches it ripple. Considers licking the juice off his fingers. Doesn’t..
A girl leans clumsily against the counter and talks to him, trailing her nails up and down his arm. Donghyuck knows she’s trying to flirt with him, but the sensation in his arm is overwhelming and there are colours swarming around her head, obscuring her face and blinding him. He looks down. Her arm is resting in the puddle of Hawaiian punch. He can’t imagine that feels nice. He takes a sip of his juice and squeezes his eyes shut. It’s still so bright. She’s still so bright.
He sneaks a look at the clock, expecting it to be deep into the night, only to realise he’s been at the party for two hours, and it isn’t even midnight. The girl catches his arm as he moves to leave the kitchen and Donghyuck shrugs her off. She’s probably calling out to him, but the beat of the music is rushing through his ears like blood.
God, he can’t walk without thinking his feet are going to sink straight into the wooden floorboards. A vape cloud is blown into his face and then he’s choking on the smell. He can see his heartbeat in his stomach and it’s starting to freak him out a little. He sucks a mouthful of ice from his cup and crunches on it. The ice explodes in his mouth and for a second he wonders if his teeth have shattered. They haven’t.
Where am I? His head makes a slow turn around the room. Mark is leaning out the window, probably throwing up into the bushes. In the corner, by the stairs, Jaemin is pressing someone against the wall. Their eyes meet as the girl kisses down Jaemin’s neck and the look on his face makes Donghyuck burn. It asks him to follow them upstairs, into an empty room. Into bed. He turns away quickly and takes another drink from his cup, trying to control his breathing. He’s only here for the drugs. Nothing more and nothing less.
Suddenly, there’s a pull in Donghtyuck’s chest and he looks back towards the kitchen warily. The basement door is opening slowly, and the creaking is loud , shrill, and it forces his shoulders up to protect his ears.
A boy appears, and oh god , he’s looking right at Donghyuck with such a smile. He looks euphoric, like he’s basking in the afterglow of sex and puddled in the sheets of his bed. His hair sticks to his forehead and red dye follows the line of sweat down his neck, where his necklace glints brightly in the strobe lights. Looking at him, Donghyuck feels like he can breathe again. Another vape cloud is blown in his face, and when it clears the boy is gone. The floor is thrumming and there’s a gold line leading into the basement, urging Donghyuck to follow it.
He blinks, and finds himself downstairs with no memory of having gone there himself. There’s someone standing beside him with their hand on his waist and holding Donghyuck’s arm around their shoulder. They’re speaking to him and they look worried, but it doesn’t sound like any language that Donghyuck has heard before and he shrugs them off with a small smile and a thanks. He miraculously is still holding his cup of Hawaiian punch, and once the stranger leaves him alone, he gulps down half of it. He’s so hot and his heart bangs against his chest clumsily; he’s already forgotten why he came down here.
There’s a group of guys playing ping pong with their shirts off, shrieking when the ball bounces against their bare skin. It whips around like a golden snitch, and its quick wings slice their chests. Their blood drips slow, white, like glue, and the sight makes Donghyuck giggle uncomfortably, maybe a little too loudly, because the four of them send curious looks his way. He spins on his heels, moving toward the next area of the basement.
Maybe it’s the group surrounding him that catches his attention, or the way his body is moving to the music, but his hair is what reminds Donghyuck of why he came downstairs. His back is turned, but he lifts his arms over his head and Donghyuck can see the joint between his fingers and the chipped polish on his nails. He staggers into the room, desperate for a closer look. When the boy turns, his ribs are visible through the arms of a tank top that’s far too big for him. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to the tattoo on his ribs, convinced for a moment that it’s moving.
He can’t stop himself from pushing through the crowd to touch him. The mystery boy freezes at the hand on his shoulder, and turns to face him. His makeup is smudged around eyes that are glossy and lidded and his skin is slick with sweat. He’s wearing lip gloss , Donghyuck thinks dumbly as he watches a sharp smile form on his face. Is it sparkling, or is it another trick of the eye?
“You asked me to come down here,” Donghyuck says, and the stranger’s smile falters. His mind feels very clear all of a sudden, and now Donghyuck is nervous.
“Did I?” The boy asks and brings the joint to his lips. “I don’t think I did.”
“I just saw you upstairs, we were looking at each other. I could feel you asking me to meet you down here.”
Donghyuck can feel humiliation sinking into his bones at the puzzled look he’s given in response. The boy takes a moment to look him over, from the orange mop of hair flattened on his scalp to the red Converse falling apart on his feet. His eyes drag back up to meet Donghyuck’s and he squints before realisation washes over him, and the sharp smile is back.
“Ah. You’re high, aren’t you?”
Donghyuck nods. “But I saw you.”
“Baby, I haven’t left his basement since I got here.” he smirks and takes another drag from his joint. He leans forward to peer into Donghyuck’s cup. “That’s not alcohol, is it?”
“It’s juice.” The boy laughs lightly and it makes him burn hot with shame. “The tap water tastes bad.”
“No, I’m not laughing at you, don’t worry.” He taps Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re probably feeling a little nauseous, aren’t you?”
Now that he mentions it, Donghyuck can feel the churning in his stomach. He nods, and this time the colours of the room swirl in his vision. He stumbles and one of the boy’s hands wraps around his arm, to steady him.
“Here.” He extends the hand holding the joint. “Believe it or not, this helps a lot with nausea.”
Donghyuck hesitates for a moment before accepting the offer. He rolls the joint between his thumb and forefinger and looks back at the boy. He’s watching him with his droopy eyes and a lazy smile. Did he always have a nose piercing? He brings the joint to his lips and pulls. His lungs burn but he holds it in, passing the joint back. The boy’s hand reaches for Donghyuck’s face and he pulls his jaw open gently. A cloud of smoke covers his face as Donghyuck exhales and he worries he may disappear again. Instead, he closes his eyes and hums.
“Better?” He asks once he’s opened his eyes. “A good joint with a great trip is…euphoric.”
Donghyuck shivers. The boy’s hand is still on his chin and the contact sinks into every one of his nerves, lighting him up completely. A blue light circles his head like an angry bee and Donghyuck wonders if the boy can see it too.
“I’m thirsty.” The boy points at Donghyuck’s drink. “Can I?”
It feels impossible to resist him. He doesn’t think he could even if he was sober. He wonders if this person is even real, or if he’s standing in the middle of the room talking to thin air. He watches him take a long sip from his cup and gather a mouthful of ice with his tongue. Juice spills from the corner of his mouth, dripping slowly down his chin. Donghyuck can’t seem to look away even after he’s handed the cup back.
“You know, if you want to kiss me, you can just do it,” the boy says, pausing to crunch the ice. “It’s rude to stare.”
“Do you want me to?” Donghyuck asks.
A hum. “You have my permission, if you think you need it.”
Donghyuck knocks back the rest of the drink and surges forward, dropping his cup to grab at the boy’s waist. His mouth is open with a shocked noise and Donghyuck makes quick work of pressing their lips together and slipping his tongue into his mouth.
The feeling is indescribable when he hears him moan. The ice in their mouths burns cold on Donghyuck’s tongue but his body is on fire, hot and out of control. There’s a hand sneaking up his shirt and scratching down his stomach and this feels so much better than the girl’s nails on his arm in the kitchen. He can feel himself shaking and his fingers dig harder into the stanger’s waist, searching for solace. Their teeth clack together and white flashes behind Donghyuck’s eyes when the boy whimpers at the collision. His fingers curl around his belt loops and he pulls their hips together. He can hear the boy sigh into his mouth, feel his tongue run across the back of his teeth, and now there are colours bursting behind his eyelids.
But Donghyuck can barely breathe, so he pulls away with a gasp and feels the lip gloss stick uncomfortably to his lips. He opens his eyes and fuck, he’s probably in love with him.
“I think I love you,” he slurs.
The boy laughs and takes a step back. “Whoa there, you don’t even know my name. The kiss couldn’t have been that good.”
“What’s your name, then?” Donghyuck asks, trying not to sound so desperate.
Instead of answering, the boy lifts a hand to his mouth, pulling from the joint Donghyuck had forgotten he was holding, and steps forward to kiss Donghyuck again. His lips part on instinct and the boy blows the smoke into his mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip gently as he pulls away. How could he do something like this and not believe Donghyuck was in love?
He can’t tear his eyes away from his lips. They’re so pink and swollen and Hawaiian punch and lipgloss and sweared across his chin, leaving a sticky, glittery mess. He’s glowing, basking, and Donghyuck still isn’t convinced he hadn’t been lured down here.
“I’m not sleeping with you tonight so I’ll tell you my name.”
“Tonight?”
“My name is Renjun,” he says, ignoring the hopeful look on his face. “If you remember me, Donghyuck, you’ll notice me shopping around the game store every once in a while.”
Donghyuck starts. “What? Like, the one I…?”
“Idiot,” Renjun mumbles. “I’m normally not wearing anything like this,” he gestures to the chains wrapped around his thighs, the necklaces around his neck. “But I thought the red hair was kind of hard to miss.”
“Renjun,” Donghyuck says, mostly to himself. The name feels so good, and lightning sparks on his tongue. “Renjun, I really think I love you.”
“No you don’t,” he whispers, but he smiles and Donghyuck is blinded. “But remember me next time, and maybe I’ll kiss me in the alley on your break.”
A quick press to his lips leaves Donghyuck feeling dizzy, and then he’s alone. Red and orange and gold explode behind his eyes and even long after Renjun has left him in the basement. Even after the party is over and he’s fallen into bed for the crash, he can feel himself basking.