Archive of Our Own

Yeonjun smells like cigarette smoke, sweat and crushed petals, and his mouth tastes like strawberry milk chapstick and the bitter taste of last night's alcohol that just won't leave your tongue. Soobin doesn't find the latter out until later, but he wonders about it from the start.

When Soobin first meets him, he's not impressed - he's just another guy in a whole row of others, sitting on a low brick wall like birds on a telephone line. His hair dye is faded, fringe falling right in his eyes, and he's wearing a boring grey hoodie he's basically drowning in that makes him look skinny, almost frail. He's got elegant fingers, on one hand playing with a vape pen, the fingers of the other wrapped around a can of beer that has probably gone warm twenty minutes ago. Soobin studies him with single-minded attention, taking in every generic detail, every flaw he can find to settle his own mind.

Whatever he manages to find doesn't change a single thing in the end - that is, Yeonjun is right in front of him, drinking warm beer, and Beomgyu is at his side, looking at him like he hung all the stars in the sky. Unlike Yeonjun, Beomgyu looks dazzling in that moment, dark hair silky, making his eyes look darker, deeper, making his skin look paler. Beomgyu looks like a daydream sketched in charcoal and porcelain, and the damn, stupid thing about it is that Soobin loves him. At the edge of every conversation, every laugh they share, every quiet moment between him and the man he calls his best friend, Soobin is in love with him, and it's staining this moment, it's the fingerprint on the camera lens that blurs the whole picture, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but the stain.

When Yeonjun smiles at him wide, like he's genuinely happy to see Soobin, a virtual stranger, Soobin feels a chill go down his spine.

That night doesn't go anywhere. Soobin is handed a bottle of beer by a face he immediately forgets, then offered cigarettes and hits he always refuses. Beomgyu looks at him like he's worried, Yeonjun looks at him like he's curious, and Soobin is bored and miserable. Around 3 am, Soobin can't feel the tips of his fingers anymore, and Beomgyu takes pity on him. Yeonjun hugs him goodbye, then offers a hug to Soobin, who pretends not to notice it. Beomgyu and him walk home in perfect silence – nobody gets to take the person they want home; Soobin thinks about Beomgyu taking his hand to warm it up the entire time, and when he gets home, he cries into his roommate's hoodie in his bed until it's time for them to get up again.

“Is he handsome?” Kai asks him over their bowls of cereal, kind of wry but also kind of curious.

“He's thin,” he answers, because that's the only part of Yeonjun he remembers. The next bite of his cereal tastes like cardboard, and so does the one after that.

Soobin is sitting at a table, staring at an apple, until a hand snatches it up out of his view. Beomgyu drops into the chair across from him with a smirk on his face while he chews on it.

“It tastes better than it looks,” he remarks teasingly, and Soobin's mind, the silly quiet beast, runs right back to the memory of Yeonjun's lips wrapped around cheap plastic. He wonders if Beomgyu's words are true.

When he doesn't answer, Beomgyu sighs and then takes another bite. Soobin's stomach grumbles, and he scratches at his wrist idly to draw his attention away from it.

“So, did you like him?” Soobin tries to pretend he doesn't know who he's talking about, just to escape the topic for a bit longer, but Beomgyu doesn't take mercy on him this time. “You didn't say anything last night.”

Shifting his eyes away from Beomgyu and back to the scratched table top, Soobin tries to come up with a single thought he could voice, a single thought that would make sense outside of the garbled mess that's the inside of his mind.

He's skinny. Soobin scratches at his wrist a little harder.

“The beer sucked,” it sounds as biting as he wants it to, but it still feels wrong on his tongue.

“That's not what I asked,” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him.

Soobin shrugs, and finally looks up at him. “That's all I remember.”

The expression on Beomgyu's face darkens and he looks down at the apple, rubbing at the skin with the pad of his thumb. “I don’t need your blessing to go after him, you know.” When he takes his next bite, it feels spiteful, and Soobin almost laughs.

“I know.” He wishes he had something in his hands to play with, too. Instead he scratches at the inside of his wrist. “You’re the one who wanted me to meet him.”

This time Beomgyu frowns at Soobin directly, and Soobin doesn’t look away. “You’re my best friend. Of course I wanted you to meet the guy I’m trying to date.” When Soobin just shrugs, Beomgyu sighs again. “What don’t you like about him?”

His tiny wrists and elegant fingers; the boring hoodie, the legs that seemed to go on forever, his pretty, inviting smile; the lips Soobin could barely look away from. His faded hair dye and everything about him that screamed of good times that passed and left traces of themselves all over him, like lipstick marks left behind after a kiss. Soobin couldn’t see a single stretch that seemed familiar, that would mirror what he sees when he looks at himself. And maybe that is the issue at the end of the day.

“You could do better.” You could be kissing me, right now. We could have shared that apple.

Soobin knows Beomgyu would taste even better than he looks.

Beomgyu snorts, but there’s a blush on his cheeks when he looks away, somewhere over Soobin’s shoulder; he imagines tracing it with his tongue, and his stomach grumbles.

Kai has the prettiest hands Soobin has ever seen - they’re just perfect , made of clean lines, soft, yet hold so firm when he needs them to. Soobin watches them move on the controller, so he won’t have to look at where Beomgyu’s curled up with his phone, texting Yeonjun with a grin on his face.

Earlier, before Beomgyu came over, Kai made Soobin a sandwich - brought it to him with this careful, open expression on his face. It was maybe the first time either of them had even attempted to make food for the other, and Soobin had to bite his lip hard to keep his expression neutral. He ate it, and his stomach churned with nausea, but he kept it down.

Now, Kai notices Soobin staring, and smiles at him. Soobin tries to smile back.

“We’re going to a party on Friday,” Beomgyu says then, and Soobin’s smile fades.

“We?”

Beomgyu lets out an affirming hum. “Yeonjun invited us.”

He feels Kai’s hand on top of his thigh, and he breathes a little easier, finds enough space in the air around him that seemed to have gotten so tight just moments before to move his head, roll his eyes. “Invited you.”

“Invited us,” his friend repeats and turns the screen in his direction even though he knows Soobin is too far away to read the text on it. “He said ‘you and Soobin should come’.”

Soobin exchanges a confused look with Kai, but Beomgyu is looking down at his phone again and doesn’t notice.

“I’m not coming,” Soobin says before he can think better of it.

Beomgyu’s head shoots up immediately, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What? Why not?”

For a second, he flounders, tries to think of any response that’s not I don’t want to see you with him ever again. “I won’t know anyone there.”

He only earns himself a raised eyebrow. “You’ll know me and Yeonjun.”

“And you’ll be talking to each other.”

Beomgyu opens his mouth to protest, then seems to think better of it, tilts his head and pouts. He tilts his head the other way, like a puppy, then shrugs. “You’ll know Taehyun.”

“Who?”

“Taehyun? He was there with us when you met Yeonjun - the one who had to open your beer for you? How zoned out were you last weekend?”

Right. To Soobin, Taehyun is just a blurry face framed by bleached hair - he barely remembers anything of him, other than the steady hand popping the cap of the beer bottle open, handing it to him, then offering a cigarette pack he refused like all the ones before them. He had a kind voice, maybe, if Soobin cared enough to remember.

“I didn’t think I’d get quizzed on names,” he retorts, like he’s feeling light, like this is banter.

Beomgyu shifts with a twist to his mouth. “He’s Yeonjun’s best friend.”

Soobin’s eyebrows shoot up. Kai’s pretty fingers draw a circle on top of his thigh. “I guess I should get to know him better then, huh?”

Kai sighs. Beomgyu smiles.

Taehyun tastes like cherry coke and rum. He’s a patient kisser, unhurried, even though they’re pressed against each other like they’re desperate for contact, away from the music and the noise, tucked under a staircase at the back of the house they’re in.

He laughed when Soobin asked him to dance with him, and even though it didn’t sound mocking, Soobin could feel himself blush at the sound. If they were any other two people than they actually are, he supposes it could have been the start of a love story of its own. But they aren’t; he’s Soobin Choi, who came to a party with Beomgyu because Beomgyu’s crush was there and he’d never arrive to a party alone, and Taehyun is Taehyun, said crush’s best friend. Yeonjun stared at them, first at Soobin, then at Taehyun, like he actually cared about the boring small talk they were engaged in before, like Soobin broke decorum by asking a beautiful boy for a dance at a house party. Soobin ignored him, but when Yeonjun bit his lip, he still wondered if it had the faint taste of vodka sour clinging to it.

Taehyun laughs now as well, when Soobin’s hands travel down and rest on his belt, fingers running over the buckle in half silent question, half silent assumption. He pulls Soobin’s hands away but lets them wander under his shirt, and that’s okay, too.

They part without fanfare, mouths bruised but matching smiles on their faces. Taehyun kisses well and grips hard, and Soobin really, genuinely thinks that in a world just slightly to the left of this one he would be begging him for a date right now.

In the world they live in, Taehyun thanks Soobin like Soobin has done him a favour or something, helps him fix his hair and then leads him back to where Yeonjun and Beomgyu are sitting. He almost expects something to have changed by the time they get there, but everything is still the same except for the drinks in their hands and the glaze over Beomgyu’s eyes. It’s almost funny; how Beomgyu was the one to come to this party with high hopes, but Soobin was the one to actually get lucky.

Beomgyu gazes at Soobin with sad, tired eyes as they approach, and Soobin purses his mouth in sympathy. Like this, relieved by the echo of Taehyun’s mouth on his, he’s able to mean it, at least for a while. When he glances over at Yeonjun, he’s looking at Taehyun with a question in his eyes. Whatever the question is, the answer to it is a short sigh and a nod, and a smirk that blooms on Yeonjun’s bitten-red mouth. His eyes slide over to Soobin, the smirk still in place.

If he’s hoping to see any hint of shame on Soobin’s face, Soobin disappoints him.

There’s that party, and then there’s another, and another one after that - Yeonjun goes to a lot of parties, and Beomgyu has high hopes that one of these will be the one where Yeonjun will give him a sign; where he’ll ask him for a dance, like Soobin did to Taehyun at the first one; where he’ll drag him upstairs with him by the hand, like Taehyun does to Soobin at the second one (they kiss on an actual bed this time, and Soobin’s lips learn intimately the path from his chest and over his abs to the juts of his hip bones - it’s fun; he likes it; he throws up in the ensuite bathroom afterwards and Taehyun laughs at him, loud and melodic, and that’s fun, too); where he’ll give him a sign, any sign, no matter how thoroughly encoded, that he wants Beomgyu as well.

Yeonjun changes, even though nothing about him is really any different from the skinny, faded boy in a grey hoodie Soobin met in a nowhere part of town one night. If he really thinks about it, it’s the way Soobin views him that changes, but Soobin refuses to really think about it.

It’s something he’s gotten better at, since that first party. Not thinking.

Now, when Beomgyu says they’re going to a party, he accepts without thinking. When he and Taehyun inevitably end up tangled together, he doesn’t waste time thinking about what they could be in some other, hypothetical world. When Beomgyu ignores him all night at those parties, he doesn’t think about what that means for their friendship. When he buys himself lunch and then gives it to Kai instead, he doesn’t think about what he’s doing. When Yeonjun looks at him in the way Soobin notices Yeonjun only looks at him, he doesn’t let himself wonder what the look means. When his eyes wander to Yeonjun’s mouth again and he assigns his lips their flavour of the week, he doesn’t worry about it.

There’s something so strange, yet so light about existing that way. It’s like Soobin is floating just centimetres above reality, able to look down at it, at the stupid absurdity of it, living only in echoes of the emotions the Soobin down there must be feeling. He must be miserable; unloved by his best friend, fuckbuddies with someone he’s barely even buddies with. Always starving, always itching from a pair of eyes on him that he knows the owner of yet can’t give a name to the emotion in them. Always itching to put his mouth on his next mistake, to reach a little further into the forbidden cookie jar.

It must be hard for the Soobin down there. But Soobin himself is just having fun.

Taehyun is sick. Soobin is at a stranger’s house, Beomgyu is stuck to Yeonjun’s side, and this time there’s no Taehyun to help Soobin bounce off of reality and back into his comfortable headspace. He’s at a boring party sitting at a sticky table with the love of his life, his crush and some guys he doesn’t know; he’s supposed to know their names, but he’s hoping everyone’s had enough shots by now to not care that he has never cared to remember them.

He misses Taehyun’s mouth, and as he glares at the shot glass in his hand, he tries hard not to break his own rule and think about what that means - if it even means anything.

They met on campus, just a few days before this. Taehyun smiled at him as they greeted each other, this small, pretty smile, not like the laughs he breathed against Soobin’s mouth, and it was almost too nice for Soobin to look at. He smiled back and neither of them tried to stop to talk.

And now Taehyun is sick - if Soobin lets himself think, maybe that’s something that could worry him, if he lets himself overthink it enough.

They drink another round of shots, and as Soobin is putting his hand back down, elegant fingers wrap around his wrist. Not as pretty as Kai's, but he notices it anyway.

“Soobinnie,” a familiar voice slurs, lets out a giggle. The nickname pulls at him uncomfortably - they didn't even know each other's names three months ago; but he supposes that if he can let a stranger touch his body as intimately as he let Taehyun do, he can let Yeonjun handle his name like it belongs to him, too. Maybe he should just let the two friends pick him apart, piece by piece, until there's nothing left. If Beomgyu doesn't want him, maybe there would be no harm to it; he can tell, from the way they watch him, that they want to. “Dance with me.”

Soobin blinks at him, because that's something Taehyun already owns; that, more than anything else, is what makes him hesitate. Does he want to hold the same cards Taehyun does, or does he want to pull the card out of Taehyun's hand?

Either way, the answer was decided long before Yeonjun even thought to ask.

“I’m not really in the mood,” he smiles and doesn't mean it; looks at Yeonjun's pout and doesn't think about why it's there, doesn't feel any particular way about it. “Beomgyu looks bored, though, why don't you ask him?”

Beomgyu looks away; Soobin wasn't aware he could hear them. Yeonjun's pretty lips press together.

“He's not looking for a relationship, you know?”

It takes Soobin by surprise, but when he realises what's going on, he laughs so hard he falls over onto the table. When he looks up at Yeonjun again, the strain he saw in his eyes before has faded into something softer, somewhere between amusement and fondness.

“Me neither,” Soobin assures him, and Yeonjun rolls his eyes.

“He said you were gonna say that.”

Somehow, that makes the smile on Soobin's face stick around longer. “And you still felt the need to say it?”

With a shrug, Yeonjun drops his eyes to the plastic shot glass he's holding. “He's not as good at reading people as he thinks he is,” he says with a hint of nostalgia in his voice, then looks up at Soobin with a conspiratorial smile. His eyes are sparkling and Soobin can almost see why Beomgyu would love him. “He's managed to miss me having a crush on him for three years of friendship.”

Soobin blinks in surprise; Yeonjun laughs at his reaction.

“But that's behind us now,” his voice is warm enough that Soobin believes him. There's a pause, in which Soobin feels like he missed the punchline of this joke. Maybe he's the punchline. Maybe Yeonjun is the one who didn't believe him. “Anyways,” Yeonjun says loudly, almost too loudly, and throws an arm around Beomgyu's shoulders, offering him his free hand. “Care for a dance, sir?”

Beomgyu blushes when he accepts, and the smile doesn't leave Soobin's face for some reason. He accepts a beer from one of the faces he doesn't recognize, and sips on it while he watches Beomgyu and Yeonjun dance. They never disappear out of view, but it almost feels like progress.

When he and Kai drop Beomgyu off at his house at the end of the night, he hugs Soobin goodbye. His empty chest feels warm the whole time Beomgyu is holding him.

Something in Soobin's chest loosens again. He eats mediocre peanut butter toast, and laughs at Beomgyu's jokes. Takes the pieces of himself he still has left and crafts a new Soobin out of them. This one's a little different, and a little scuffed here and there, but he hopes it's still him.

The dye in his own hair fades, and he leaves it that way, lets the memory echo. He meets Yeonjun in daylight for the first time, and he sees something of himself in him this time. It's a bittersweet feeling, but he lets it settle on his tongue.

They meet by accident – Yeonjun and Taehyun are already at Beomgyu's when Soobin knocks on the door, and there's no good excuse Beomgyu has for turning him away, so they all settle on Beomgyu's couch.

Taehyun's hair is different, darker now, and he looks soft and tired. When Soobin sits down next to him, he lays his head on his shoulder and links their arms - this time, when Soobin doesn't overthink it, it's with a veil of contentment settled over his mind. It's okay like this.

Beomgyu laughs and slaps Yeonjun's arm, who slaps him right back. There's a blush on Beomgyu's face and it's so pretty it makes Soobin's heart ache.

He could be happy like this.

Yeonjun looks different in full daylight – Soobin feels his perspective shift again and today he's brave enough to acknowledge that it's happening. There's something more alive about him when he's sober, a clarity in his eyes, a genuineness in his smile, in his laugh, that's almost startling. Once again, Soobin thinks he almost sees the guy Beomgyu fell for.

He can be happy like this.

“We heard it's your birthday on Tuesday,” Yeonjun mentions, and Soobin glances at Beomgyu, who just shrugs at him.

“Yeah,” he says a little blankly, already trying to figure out where this is going. One of Taehyun's hands comes down to play with his fingers, and he relaxes a little.

“Do you have any plans for the day?”

Soobin is about to say he's just going to call his family and hang out with his roommate, when Beomgyu speaks up for him.

“He does,” and when Soobin looks at him in confusion, he gives Soobin the prettiest grin he's ever seen. “Me and his roommate have plans for him, anyway.”

The reminder of the things that haven't changed yet makes Soobin smile back. Yeonjun raises an amused, suggestive eyebrow and Taehyun bursts out laughing, burying his face in Soobin's arm as Beomgyu slaps at Yeonjun's thigh, bared through a rip in his jeans. He yelps and then Soobin is laughing, too.

It's nice. He's almost happy.

“We're wine-tasting,” Beomgyu clarifies, and then it’s Soobin’s eyebrows that are coming up. Picky Beomgyu and beer drinker Kai planning to do a wine tasting just because Soobin likes to pretend sometimes that he’s better than kicking back tequila shots from dirty shot glasses to get as drunk as quickly as he can. It’s endearing - Soobin wonders if the entire room can see how much love for Beomgyu there is in his heart when he looks at him.

“Can we tag along?” It’s Taehyun who speaks up but it feels like Yeonjun’s words - Soobin’s head spins a little; he squeezes Taehyun’s hand.

“Sure,” he says without meaning it, but means the smile he answers Taehyun with.

When he looks up, Yeonjun is smirking at him. Soobin looks at Beomgyu instead.

The wine tasting starts at seven; Taehyun texts him at four, asking him if he’s home and if his roommate is still out. Kai has choir until six - Soobin texts him to take his time getting back home, then tells Taehyun he’s alone.

At four thirty, Taehyun knocks on his door with a condom and a laugh. Soobin isn’t surprised, but he feels fond nonetheless. Taehyun whispers happy birthday against his mouth when he shakes apart above him, fingers carding through his sweaty hair, and it makes them both giggle.

Nobody comments on Taehyun already being there by the time the others start gathering, everyone bringing their own bottle with them to contribute to the experience. Taehyun sits on Soobin’s lap the whole night, even though they’re sitting at the dining table and there’s more than enough space to go around, and nobody comments on that, either. They don’t kiss again that night, and the hand Soobin has wrapped around Taehyun’s side never wanders off - it’s comfortable.

At some point, he meets Yeonjun’s eyes across the table, both of them pausing with their glasses at their lips. Yeonjun’s expression is neutral, but his eyes are curious, wondering. Soobin smiles at him, and he smiles back, finally taking a sip. Beomgyu leans into Yeonjun’s shoulder then, and he ruffles the younger man’s hair.

Much later, as the evening starts winding down, Kai is in the bathroom, Beomgyu is touching his face up in Soobin’s room, and Soobin is in the living room, waiting for either of his friends to come back while the two best friends sit together in the kitchen. He hears Yeonjun ask much too loudly if Soobin is good in bed, the bright, unrestrained laugh Taehyun gives in response.

He thinks about the used condom in the wastebasket right next to the vanity Beomgyu is sitting at right now, and his skin itches.

Kai comes out of the bathroom, gives a surprised, confused look to Soobin, who’s standing silently in the middle of the living room. As Soobin attempts to find his voice, the door to his room opens as well.

“I opened a window in there,” Beomgyu snarks, giving Soobin a teasing look. “Since someone apparently forgot.”

Soobin blushes, and Kai laughs awkwardly, and the world somehow keeps spinning.

“Soobin.”

It’s three a.m. The wine tasting turned into chugging wine to minimise leftovers turned into a sleepover. Beomgyu and Kai are sleeping on Kai’s bed, the two of them the first to pass out from the alcohol. Taehyun is waiting for Soobin on his bed, but he’s in the kitchen with Yeonjun, washing out the glasses and bottles, throwing away snack wrappers - somehow neither of them is drunk enough to feel like they have the excuse to not be responsible.

Maybe it’s a side effect of growing older, Soobin thinks with a distant kind of amusement. He hums in response to Yeonjun saying his name in the silent kitchen, tries not to tense up when the other comes closer to where he’s standing by the sink, when he pins him down with a sharp look of his glassy eyes.

“Are you gay?”

Soobin almost drops the bottle he’s holding as he barks out a laugh, full-bodied, too loud for the late hour, bending over the sink with the force of his amusement. Yeonjun doesn’t look embarrassed by the stupid question he’s posed, though, so he straightens up and gives him a look. “Ask Taehyun.”

Yeonjun smiles, then, but he rolls his eyes too. “I didn’t ask if you’re into guys, I asked if you’re gay.”

He sizes Yeonjun up; he dyed his hair black between the last time Soobin has seen him and now, and it makes him look almost mysterious, like he’s holding secrets in his bony fingers Soobin could never hope to learn. It’s sharper than the look he met him with; he likes it, when he lets himself think about it.

“I’m not,” he answers simply, and goes back to rinsing the bottle.

“Have you ever fucked a girl?” Yeonjun swings a little closer to him as he asks it, and Soobin sees goosebumps raise on his own skin in real time.

He snorts. “I can’t describe to you how it feels in comparison to fucking a guy, if that’s where this is going.”

Yeonjun’s laugh is almost startling, and he leans back out of Soobin’s personal space to his relief, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “Have you gotten that before?”

Soobin shrugs, puts the wine bottle right next to Yeonjun and meets his eyes. “Gyu’s a gold star gay and gets weirdly horny if he drinks enough amaretto sours.”

Even as Yeonjun laughs heartily, he keeps his eyes glued to Soobin, like he can’t look away. “I thought you were straight when he introduced you to me,” he admits, almost too quietly in comparison to his laugh just then. “Thought you considered yourself too good to hang out with Gyu’s queer friends.” Soobin snorts, and Yeonjun’s smile, which previously faded, widens again. “And then you asked Taehyun to dance with you.”

“Is that what that nod between you two was about?” Soobin asks before he can think about whether it’s strange for him to remember that detail.

One of Yeonjun’s eyebrows lifts, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “You noticed that?”

Embarrassed, Soobin looks away and shrugs. Yeonjun leans in and pats his cheek fondly, like they’re close friends, like he’s a little child that did something cute.

“Tae’s lucky to have attentive eyes like that on him,” he says lightly.

“It’s not-” Soobin starts, almost exasperated, but Yeonjun reaches down to grab his hand and cuts him off.

“I know. I’m just teasing you.” It sounds genuine enough, and the touch of his hand is startling enough to have Soobin shut up, anyway. “Let’s go to bed.”

Soobin nods, but to his surprise, Yeonjun doesn’t let go of his hand, and he doesn’t go to Kai’s room to be closer to Beomgyu. He follows Soobin to his bedroom, strips his shirt while Soobin settles against Taehyun, wrapping an arm around him and then slides into the bed on Soobin’s other side. They don’t touch, but it still feels too intimate. Too tired to protest, Soobin buries his nose in Taehyun’s hair and buries the feeling in the scent of his shampoo.

When Soobin wakes up, it’s with Taehyun’s weight on his hips, the younger man sitting in his lap. He turns his head to the side in confusion, but Yeonjun isn’t in bed with them anymore. In the morning mix of sleepy confusion and a building hangover, it almost feels disappointing.

There’s nothing disappointing about Taehyun’s tongue slipping into his mouth, so he lets himself drown in the feeling of it.

They eat breakfast with Kai and Beomgyu later, and Beomgyu’s eyes are tired and sad. Soobin pretends not to notice.

The next time Soobin sees Yeonjun, it’s the middle of the night again - he’s just texted him if he’s home at 1 am, then ghosted him until 2, when he texted him to come open his front door.

Now he’s standing in front of him, wrapped in a fluffy animal print coat. He looks so skinny again, even with most of his body hidden from view, wrists thin and delicate, the patch of bare skin on his long legs between the hem of the long coat and the top of his boots almost dainty enough to look feminine. He's so thin; Soobin mentally goes over everything he's eaten that day, and he feels nauseous. Yeonjun's hair is limp and his eyes red and swollen visibly in the harsh light of the hallway.

"Soobinnie." They're not friends. Soobin nods a greeting. "Hey. Can I come in?"

Why? "Sure." He steps back, eyes Yeonjun as he walks in, as he bends over carefully to take his boots off. He's barefoot under them, and when the coat lifts, Soobin clearly sees the underside of his thighs. His skin itches, and he scratches at his forearm to get rid of the feeling. Yeonjun's thighs are thin enough for Soobin's hands to be able to cover most of them easily if he tried - it makes his stomach roil. Is he even wearing pants?

"Why are you here, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun looks at him apprehensively. His eyes drop to where Soobin is still scratching at his arm, and he bites his lip before he answers. “Can we go to your room?”

“No.” They're not friends; despite the smiles, the drinks they've shared, despite Soobin's best friend hanging off of Yeonjun's arm, and Yeonjun's best friend's place of honour in Soobin's bed, they aren't close. Them sleeping next to each other on Soobin's birthday crossed enough lines already.

There's disbelief in Yeonjun's eyes when he says it, and he lifts his hands to run them through his hair, his coat riding up, exposing more of his legs again while he laughs breathlessly. Soobin sees fresh tears glisten in his eyes, and the mean part of him, the tired part of him thinks, good. He shouldn't get what he wants, either. The part of him that's longed to kiss Beomgyu for years now wants him to hurt.

There's a bruise on the inside of one of Yeonjun's thighs, and Soobin stares at it like it has all the answers to the mysteries of the known universe. It makes him wonder, and in the end he's the one to cut off Yeonjun's mirthless laughter.

“Are you even wearing pants?” He doesn't really want to know, but he can't stop thinking about it.

His stomach twists again when he sees the pain fade out of Yeonjun's eyes, replaced by something empty but bright, something that Soobin knows he wouldn't be able to look away from if he tried, so he doesn't try. The hands in his hair drop lower, drag over the pale skin of his neck. He's wearing jewellery, a necklace inlaid with pearls that sits tightly in the hollow of his throat; Soobin watches his fingers caress it.

“Do you wanna see what I'm wearing?” His voice is deceptively soft, low, deliberate. Goosebumps rise on Soobin's skin – he's good; too good at this.

Soobin makes a short affirmative noise, and he sounds stupid to his own ears, but he meets Yeonjun's eyes without letting a hint of shame seep into his own. He can feel himself detach again, looking down at the other Soobin, in sweatpants and a hoodie, standing in the hallway of his apartment with Beomgyu's crush, who's probably trying to fuck him, dressed like a hooker in cheap jewellery and a tacky coat. In the privacy of his mind, he laughs at both of them.

“Then take me to your room, pretty boy,” Yeonjun tries to purr, but his voice wavers and Soobin almost laughs in his face.

He shakes his head, studies Yeonjun’s face for a bit. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting with you,” Yeonjun responds bluntly, seeming annoyed at Soobin’s reluctance to just go with it. “You know, you’re really putting up a fight for someone who can’t stop staring at my mouth whenever we’re hanging out together.”

Soobin feels the jab physically; the thought of Yeonjun paying as close of an attention to him as Soobin reluctantly pays to him is uncomfortable, makes his hands restless again, and he feels a sting in his wrist as his scratching nails break skin suddenly. The pain brings with it a clarity; he glances down to Yeonjun’s lips, which look like he’s bitten them raw and then tried to salvage the damage with layers upon layers of chapstick. It’s not attractive, but it inspires a kind of sympathy in Soobin that he thinks he could mistake for a kind of attraction if he tried.

He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie over his bleeding wrist. “You should be at Beomgyu’s right now.”

To his surprise, Yeonjun doesn’t even flinch. “Gyu’s not the one I dressed up for.”

His eyes are full of challenge, and Soobin is tired; his wrist burns and Beomgyu hasn’t texted him for days - he talks to him when they meet during the day, but he doesn’t text him, doesn’t confide in him. Soobin should have reached out but he knows what the reason for Beomgyu’s withdrawal is, and he knows that he has no comfort to offer him. It aches nonetheless, just like the incessant pulsing in the patch of broken skin.

Making his mind up somewhere within his own head, Soobin shifts; straightens up a little - gives Yeonjun another once-over, from his bare feet past smooth shaved legs to the pearl necklace, to the shiny lips that he’s started biting into again while Soobin was deep in thought. He realises that Yeonjun has been waiting patiently for Soobin to make up his mind, and it excites some part of him. The part of him that has hated Yeonjun from the start and the part that hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the taste of his lips converge at the thought of him letting his pride rest in Soobin’s hands; at the thought of him left at Soobin’s mercy.

“Take the coat off,” he prompts without really thinking about it, only able to process his own words as they leave his mouth, but he doesn’t take them back, just meets Yeonjun’s eyes while those delicate fingers clutch at the lapels of the fur coat.

“I’d rather do that in your room.” Soobin can hear Yeonjun trying to keep the challenging air about him, but it’s clear that he’s hesitating now that Soobin seems more open to him. It feels less like Yeonjun exerting his power and more like him handing Soobin a length of rope for Soobin to hang him with.

“Show me first, and then I’ll give you what you want.” What he thinks Yeonjun wants, anyway - but there isn’t really any question about it at this point, is there?

Yeonjun’s jaw sets, but Soobin can’t read the expression in his eyes - it surely doesn’t seem like defiance. “Your roommate-”

“Kai’s dead asleep at this hour.”

They stare at each other for a long moment; Soobin determined and Yeonjun unreadable. For a little while, Soobin wonders if he should feel bad, but he knows he doesn't even for a second - Yeonjun is the one who wants something from him, therefore he must be the one paying the price. He's not desperate enough to just spread his legs for anyone who comes knocking on his door with an offer; he's not compassionate enough to give out pity fucks if there's nothing in it for him. He's not sure what exactly he's looking to gain from making Yeonjun strip in the hallway of his apartment, but he knows the itch in his skin won't be settled until he gets it. Maybe he wants him to feel humiliated; maybe he wants him to feel even more exposed than he must already feel. Maybe he just needs to see him submit.

Whatever it is, between one breath and the next, he gets it. The hand clutching at the lapel of the coat lets go and slides down to undo the clasps holding it shut. One by one; slow and deliberate. Soobin knows his heart should be racing with anticipation, but it's just swelling with satisfaction at seeing Yeonjun give in. It's a headrush that has his eyes blurring until the coat falls to the floor and he's faced with Yeonjun in all his scantily clad glory.

Whatever Soobin imagined to be under the coat, if he even really bothered to wonder, it wasn't this. It's a simple outfit, high-waisted dark denim shorts that don't even go halfway down Yeonjun's thighs and a black lace top that Soobin recognizes as a bralette once he looks long enough, the pecs underneath it barely filling it out.

He looks like a college girl at a summer party. Soobin is confused. His eyes dart up to Yeonjun's, and the look in them seems a lot like disappointment. He’s not sure what Yeonjun was expecting - shock, maybe? Did he expect him to lose it completely at the sight of him wearing something more feminine than what he usually saw him in?

There is something Yeonjun wanted from him, aside from sex, and he clearly isn’t getting it. Slowly, the disappointment on his face morphs into a blank expression, even though his face reddens a little and he wraps his arms around his chest, clearly feeling insecure. The good guy part of Soobin feels sorry for him for just a moment.

“Are you happy?” Yeonjun sounds like a cranky teenager. Soobin shrugs, which seems to annoy him more. He steps over the coat still pooled on the floor, closer to Soobin’s space, and he doesn’t take a step back. “Then let’s go.”

To Soobin’s surprise, he doesn’t end up touching him, just looks him over, turns on his heel and picks up the coat before leading the way to Soobin’s room. When he bends over, the shorts he’s wearing ride up a little, exposing more skin, and this time he allows himself to feel the little prick of excitement at the sight that sparks somewhere deep in his gut.

When the door of his bedroom closes behind him, there’s another quiet lull. Yeonjun acts like the room is his, casually tossing the coat over the back of Soobin’s gaming chair, then turning around to lean against the desk, posture open, expression probably as close to bedroom eyes as Soobin has ever seen on him.

He knows that Yeonjun wants him to come closer, that he’s expecting to be made out with on Soobin’s work table like this is some passionate love affair, like Soobin wants this as much as he does, but it all feels wrong, the energy off, Soobin frozen with all the possibilities of what the unspoken part of this could be. What it is that Yeonjun really wants from him, and why it’s so clear to him that he’ll let him have it, even though he’s taking ages to get there.

“I didn’t come here to be looked at, if that wasn’t clear.”

Soobin rolls his eyes, but it gets him to move. Maybe he just needs to stop thinking. Maybe kissing Yeonjun, fucking Yeonjun can be just like fucking Taehyun. It can be laughter and relief, a distraction from everything that’s crumbling around them. He just needs to clear his head.

He sheds his hoodie on the way, tosses it over towards the bed. Immediately, Yeonjun’s eyes drop to his bare chest and stomach, studying them and Soobin deliberately doesn’t wonder what Yeonjun thinks about his body. With just the dark lace of the bralette covering his torso, Soobin can see how much skinnier than him Yeonjun is, but also more muscled. He’s compact; slender; elegant - Soobin is soft and wiry in all the wrong places and he knows, but Yeonjun asked for this. Beggars can’t be choosers.

As soon as he gets within reach, he grabs at Yeonjun’s waist, gives it a squeeze while he takes his place right in front of him. Yeonjun makes a content noise in response, clearly satisfied with Soobin finally getting with the program. He reaches one hand up to Soobin’s hair, tilts his head up but doesn’t kiss him. For a second, Soobin just studies him - the few blemishes of his skin, swollen red mouth covered in chapstick, the dark glassy eyes, and he can’t help but compare him to Taehyun - he’s a little taller, a little wider in the shoulders, a little narrower at the waist. He doesn’t laugh at the idea of kissing Soobin, doesn’t laugh after he finally presses their lips together, either, doesn’t ever really break out into a smile. His fingers just tighten in Soobin’s hair a little, then pet over the same spot.

Soobin kisses him a few times, licks over his lips just to satisfy his curious mind. They’re not as soft as he imagined them to be, but Yeonjun’s chapstick tastes like strawberry milk, and that further shatters the image of him in Soobin’s mind. It’s mild and sweet and when he lets Soobin taste the inside of his mouth as well, he clearly recognizes the lingering sting of alcohol. He’s everything and nothing like what Soobin expected him to be; it’s almost as exciting as the kiss itself.

Yeonjun is a good kisser; good enough that when his hands drop down to grab one of Soobin’s, one wrapping around his wrist and the other around his palm, he doesn’t really bother to wonder where he’s going with it, until the hand holding his palm shifts to squeeze his fingers against lace-covered skin. Yeonjun moans into Soobin’s mouth, and he feels the sound all the way in his dick, like an insistent hand grabbing at him. He takes the hint, massages the muscle further, finds the swell of a hardening nipple under the fabric and rubs at it with his thumb. It makes Yeonjun’s mouth go slack, and Soobin smiles with satisfaction. There’s something at the back of his mind that wants to think about this, but he pushes it away in favour of kissing Yeonjun’s neck, licking at the skin, making him squirm as he finds the most sensitive spots and abuses them relentlessly.

And it’s fun and Soobin is sure he can get lost in this; can get lost in him the same way he did in Taehyun. His hands are messing Soobin’s hair up just the way he likes it, he’s vocal but not loud enough to wake Kai up, showing his appreciation in soft moans and whimpers, and his skin is heavenly soft, begging to have his hands smooth over all of it. Soobin’s free hand drops to his thigh, travels from his knee up to where the shorts hug his thighs and he wedges his fingers under the denim just to feel the fingers in his hair tighten again. He marvels at the lack of body hair, can't remember the last time he's been with a guy who felt this smooth under his hands.

At the back of his mind is the realisation that he's never seen Yeonjun with more than a shadow of facial hair, no matter what the occasion or time of day. It settles him, the thought that none of this meticulousness has anything to do with him. This, what he's feeling, is Yeonjun, not what he's made out of himself to get Soobin to fuck him.

He kisses Yeonjun's mouth again, runs a hand down his stomach, headed south to the zipper of his shorts. Yeonjun whines in displeasure though, wraps his arms around his neck and the leg Soobin is touching around his hip.

"Take me to your bed,” he demands, then keeps kissing him and Soobin isn't fully convinced that he's not just being kissed so he can't talk back. To his own surprise, he finds that he doesn’t really want to, though. Some part of him wants to see Yeonjun on top of his sheets, to see him under him, to keep going until he gets this over with.

So he carries him to his bed, clumsy as he overestimates his own strength, but Yeonjun doesn’t comment on it; doesn’t complain or make fun of him - Soobin wants to wonder if he’s like this with all his lovers, or if it’s the situation there in, but he wants to take his pants off more, so he does that while Yeonjun squirms out of his shorts and then they’re kissing, grabbing at each other; Soobin snaps one of the straps of the bralette against Yeonjun’s skin with his teeth and feels his chest shudder where he’s grabbing at the lace again, like he suppressed a laugh. It makes him feel good and sad at the same time, so he kisses down the centre of his chest, over his stomach, hoping to erase the scattered thoughts in his mind with a familiar weight on his tongue, but then Yeonjun pulls his hair again, drags him up into a kiss, shoves an insistent hand down into his underwear and sure Soobin’s mind goes white and blank with that too after he hasn’t been touched this whole time, but he’s also confused. Is he not supposed to touch? What is he expected to do?

He takes a page out of Yeonjun’s book, uses the hand he’s not holding himself up with to grab at Yeonjun’s wrist to stop it from moving and bites his lip before raising himself up and out of reach. For no good reason at all, he brings Yeonjun’s hand up to his face and kisses the back of it - it’s tender and it’s a little gross but it makes the annoyance in Yeonjun’s face soften a little. He looks at Soobin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he wonders if Yeonjun has also had expectations of him that he’s managed to thoroughly shatter at this point.

Slowly, he intertwines their fingers, then presses their joined hands into the mattress next to Yeonjun’s head, trapping him in between his arms again.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

Yeonjun raises his eyebrows at him. His free hand trails down from Soobin’s stomach to cup him again. “I think you got the gist of it.”

Soobin grabs the other hand too and deals with it the same way he did with the first one, minus the tender kiss. “I said exactly.” He glances down between them, at the bralette that got knocked askew, Yeonjun’s tented underwear, the red tracks where he allowed himself to treat the soft skin a bit more roughly. “What do you want?” Why does he always stop him from reaching for his dick when he came here to have sex? “Where can I touch?” There’s an involuntary image that flashes before his eyes, Kai wiping tears away with the sleeves of a soft baby pink hoodie, his cheeks pinks from the whiskey they’ve been drinking, smiling at Soobin with gratitude in his eyes after he had spilled his best kept secrets to him.

I just wanted to be touched differently, sometimes. Wanted her to talk to me a little differently. She just wouldn’t get it.

It’s presumptuous of him to act like he knows what’s going on, but he’s hoping he’s leaving the door open wide enough for Yeonjun to take it for what it is - a chance to replace Soobin’s assumptions with the truth. Or as much of it as he’s able to share.

“Where should I touch?”

Yeonjun closes his eyes under him and Soobin forces himself to not think about why; to not panic, hurriedly try to explain himself, to just give him time to do whatever the hell he needs to do. His fingers squeeze at Soobin’s, who breathes out steadily. Yeonjun’s lips tremble and he dips down to press his lips against his quaking chin, his neck, the dip between his collarbones, then raises himself back up to face him, finds his eyes red and wet but open.

“Sit up,” he whispers and Soobin obeys without thinking - their hands fall away from each other as they rearrange themselves, Soobin sitting on his heels and Yeonjun sitting up against the headboard in front of him. Yeonjun studies him briefly, then reaches out for his hand and pulls it against his chest again.

“I want your hands here; you did so well earlier,” he leans forward to kiss him, lets their lips linger against each other afterwards. “Just don’t take it off. You can pull it to the side but don’t take it off.” He gives him one more peck, then shifts closer, drags his palm down over his stomach, makes it wrap around his waist. “I want them here,” he adds in a whisper, pulls the palm to the swell of his hip bone, “and here,” he digs Soobin’s fingers into the flesh of his own inner thigh and makes a high, keening sound. He meets Soobin’s eyes then, and the challenge is back in them as he guides Soobin’s hand to his ass. “But I mostly want them here, if that’s something you’re into.”

It sounds mocking, and it probably is; he doesn’t imagine he wanted Taehyun to spare the details while giving the report on Soobin’s bedroom skills. Soobin is a little annoyed, but it just feeds the desire that’s been taking his whole body over throughout Yeonjun’s whole display. It just makes him want to grab harder; to give him all he wants and then some.

He nods and Yeonjun smirks, pulls Soobin’s hand away again and threads their fingers together to pull his entire body closer. His free hand goes straight to Soobin’s dick again and this time he doesn’t stop him, lets him lean into him, bite at his ear and kiss his neck while he jerks him off slowly.

“In my fantasy,” he says against the skin of his shoulder, “when I was at my place getting off to you earlier,” somehow it’s more the confidence with which Yeonjun says it, that air of certainty that it will turn Soobin on, that makes him shudder more than the words themselves. “You just flipped me over, pulled my clothes out of the way and fucked me until you came.” He kisses Soobin’s mouth, bites at it, nudges their noses together, breathes out a gasp when Soobin grabs at his waist. “I liked that a lot.”

Soobin’s brow furrows even though he wants nothing more than to get horizontal and get to it again. He glances down between them, where Yeonjun is pointedly keeping his hips away from where his hand is still wrapped around Soobin. “Should I just not touch you at all?”

Yeonjun’s Adam’s apple jumps as he swallows hard before answering. “Just pretend it’s not there.”

And he just wants to ask - if this is just some fantasy about being with someone who doesn’t care about his pleasure; if there’s trauma behind it all that he should be getting help for instead of getting Beomgyu’s best friend to fuck him; if he’s like Hyuka and sometimes his body feels like a prison he needs help escaping - but he doesn’t, because they’re not friends, it’s not his place, Yeonjun’s lips are right there and he’s explained everything he needs already, hasn’t he? He’s had no trouble setting his boundaries as they went along before; they’ll figure the rest out as they go.

So he just kisses Yeonjun as hard as he can, bites at his nipples through the lace and then flips him over like he asked for. It feels different like this, when he can’t see Yeonjun’s sharp eyes or his face contorting in pleasure, when all he has to go off of are the sounds he muffles in Soobin’s pillows.

In a way, it’s easier like this, to do what he’s asked to do and just focus on his own pleasure, even as he tries to maintain Yeonjun’s high as well through deliberate touches, squeezes to his pecs through the bralette and kisses all over his back, his palms on yeonjun’s thighs. He gets lost in a haze, somewhere between feeling the inside of Yeonjun’s body around his fingers for the first time and his first real thrust that makes them both gasp and shiver, his world narrowing to the space between the two of them, Yeonjun’s breaths, the warmth of him, the softness of his skin and the roughness of the lace, the expanse of his back, little mumbled words of encouragement and his own praise, pressed between Yeonjun’s shoulder blades, into his neck or into his hair. He calls him beautiful, tells him how good he feels while squeezing at his chest, tells him about how crazy the softness of his skin makes him because somewhere between the first sob Yeonjun lets out and him gasping out Soobin’s name and thanking him breathlessly as he fucks him steadily he loses control of the situation completely, getting lost in the pleasure, the only presence of mind he has left just enough to follow the rules they laid out. His hands never stray away from the safe areas and in his haze, it’s almost too simple to really forget there even is something to ignore.

It takes him until after his orgasm ripples through him to realise that the fact that he doesn’t care is the point. Yeonjun could have walked into his apartment with a 12-inch dick, with a vagina or a pair of double D tits and to Soobin, he’d still be just as fuckable. He’d still be skinny and beautiful and him crying into the sheets would drive Soobin just as wild as it did tonight.

The realisation makes him land heavy on the mattress next to him. He feels sated and used at the same time somehow. Feels lied to even though Yeonjun didn’t really owe him the full explanation.

Maybe he isn’t even right about it.

He turns his head in Yeonjun’s direction. His face is buried in a pillow, still releasing ragged, hitched breaths into it. Soobin wonders if he should try to comfort him.

Instead, he decides to prod. Because there’s still a part of him that wants to cut Yeonjun where it hurts.

“It’s been a while since I fucked someone who isn’t a guy. Between Taehyun and my ex…” He says it simply, like he doesn’t mean anything by it, but he stares at Yeonjun’s ear intently.

He watches him freeze and his breath stutter. Yeonjun looks at him and he stares back blankly. The other looks scared, and there are tears all over his face and welling up again in his eyes. Once again, Yeonjun buries his face in the pillow and sobs.

Soobin wants to be heartless, wants to keep cutting until the wound is raw and jagged, but he saw a reflection of Kai’s own tearful eyes in Yeonjun’s, and he knows that he can’t be her. Maybe he’s not Yeonjun’s boyfriend, but he still can’t leave a fellow human being hanging when just existing in their own body is causing them suffering.

With a small sigh, he rolls over and starts caressing Yeonjun’s back, running up and down the length of his spine. It feels far from enough but he hopes that the thought counts more than the action itself.

Slowly, Yeonjun lets go of the pillow and turns his head in Soobin’s direction again, studying his face with heavy blurry eyes. He takes in a slow, ragged breath, then reaches out and touches Soobin’s bare chest. The touch hurts, but he leaves it there.

“Did you know the whole time?” His voice is wrecked. Soobin can’t help but try to recall what it sounded like chanting his name.

He shakes his head, figures he has nothing to lose by being honest this time. “Figured it out just now.”

Yeonjun chuckles in response, wet and raspy. “Talk about post-nut clarity.”

Soobin smiles at that despite himself. The hand on his chest slides up to his neck and Yeonjun flicks his ear, looking soft and thoughtful. It’s intimate, and despite just having had sex with him, Soobin doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Was I that obvious?” Yeonjun asks, almost like he’s making fun of himself.

For a second, Soobin doesn’t answer, lets Yeonjun rub at his neck, then at his earlobe, lets the repetitive motions relax him. “I don’t know. I have a friend - you reminded me of him.”

He watches as Yeonjun’s eyes shake and flicker. “A friend?” He raises his eyebrows and tugs at Soobin’s ear more aggressively. “Do I know him?”

“If you did, I couldn’t tell you,” Soobin admits. He reaches up to grab Yeonjun’s wrist and his fingers still in their kneading immediately. “How he feels isn’t public knowledge.”

The hand that Soobin is holding onto forms a fist. Yeonjun’s eyes grow wide. “Is it Beom?”

He presses his mouth into a line and grips the wrist harder. “Yeonjun.”

“Please, Soobin,” he shifts so he’s on his side, facing Soobin fully. His clothes are all knocked askew and neither of them has bothered to pull his underwear back up. The sight almost makes Soobin feel sick. “If it’s not him, I’ll stop prying. I just have to know.”

Soobin frowns. “Why him in particular?”

“You know why,” Yeonjun hisses impatiently and finally tugs his wrist out of Soobin’s grip. “If it’s him, then he’ll understand - then I can tell him everything. And he’ll get why it’s never going to work between us.”

It hits, then - the irony of it, the simple little tragedy that has been playing out in front of his eyes this whole time without him noticing. Pretty, foolish, unflinchingly gay Beomgyu Choi and his faded, rubbed raw, skinny crush who likes to have their tits squeezed while getting fucked. Yeonjun thinking Soobin is straight then knowing he’s capable of wanting him either way, drinking and thinking about him until he comes over to make his fantasy a reality. For reassurance, maybe. Soobin wonders if it was helpful - if at least a part of Yeonjun was crying from relief earlier.

“Maybe you can make it work - if you tell him, maybe he can give you what you need.” Including the feelings Soobin will probably never feel for him, and Beomgyu might never stop feeling.

“It’ll never feel right.” It sounds like he’s thought about this already - a hundred times, maybe. Soobin wouldn’t be surprised if he did. “He likes men.”

“What are you, then?”

He almost doesn’t expect Yeonjun to answer, but he does. “What do I look like, hm?” His eyes turn sharp and predatory. “A princess? Someone’s girlfriend? Your baby girl?”

Soobin glances down at his body again - Yeonjun isn’t saying the important part out loud, but is at the same time. He finally reaches out to pull his underwear back up, deliberately letting the elastic waistband snap against Yeonjun’s skin. “A slut. You look like a slut.”

Yeonjun snorts out a laugh and buries his face in the pillow again, shoulders twitching. “It got you to fuck me,” he mumbles into it without looking up.

It’s not really true - it wasn’t the outfit, and whatever was going on in Yeonjun’s head gender-wise didn’t change anything about Soobin’s attraction to him. Soobin fucked him out of pity, out of revenge, because of his pretty mouth and because of how badly he needed Soobin for reasons he didn’t yet understand.

When Soobin doesn’t answer, Yeonjun lifts his head again and squints at him. “Does it bother you?”

He thinks about it; genuinely. There’s still a part of him that feels used, but he knows he doesn’t deserve any better. Yeonjun used him and Soobin was cruel in return, because of feelings neither he nor Yeonjun could control.

“It bothers me that you didn’t tell me,” he admits eventually - reaches out again to pull the bralette back into place. “That it wasn’t really about fucking me.”

“I didn’t trust you,” Yeonjun confesses in return, lays his hand on his chest over Soobin’s - it’s slender and elegant. Feminine. “But if it helps, I still want to fuck you when this shit isn’t making me miserable.” His eyes crinkle with a smile, and Soobin vaguely thinks it’s kind of pretty. “Taehyun’s left really good reviews. I guess he wasn’t kidding.”

“Did you think he was?” Mindlessly, Soobin moves the hand Yeonjun is holding onto, brings his fingers back over the raised outline of a nipple under the lace, plays with it and holds Yeonjun’s eyes when it makes him gasp.

“Wouldn’t put it past him.” He watches Yeonjun struggle to speak, to not stutter while blood rushes to his cheeks and his breath quickens just from that one point of contact. “He was so smug about- about you wanting him when I was the one who wanted you since the first time we met you.”

“You wanted me?” Soobin splays his palm and squeezes; watches Yeonjun’s eyes fall shut, bottom lip caught between his teeth. The chapstick is all rubbed off by now, but he’s sure he could taste the strawberry milk if he leaned in and traced Yeonjun’s mouth with his tongue.

“Of course I did.” There’s a trace of a laugh on Yeonjun’s lips. “Beomgyu’s hot, judgy straight best friend. I wanted your mouth everywhere.”

Soobin tries to find it in his memory of that night - that desire. But maybe he was too preoccupied with himself, with how pretty Beomgyu looked while being everything but his, to really notice it.

Yeonjun’s eyes open again, and he looks at Soobin, sadness mixing with a searching look. “It’s not him, is it? It’s not Beomgyu.”

“It’s not.”

With a nod, Yeonjun takes another deep, stuttering breath, eyes glued to Soobin’s the entire time. “Can I suck your dick?”

Soobin looks down at himself, tries not to look at the evidence that Yeonjun didn’t get an orgasm for his trouble earlier. “I already came.”

But Yeonjun just reaches out, runs his fingers through Soobin’s happy trail, teases the skin there with his nails. “Can I make you come again?”

“Why?” It feels like he’s being used again - like he’s just a body, but when Yeonjun pushes him onto his back and slides down the bed to settle between his legs, he lets him.

“You called me a slut earlier - I liked that.” He buries his face where Soobin’s thigh meets his hip, and Soobin’s chest stutters as he reaches down to Yeonjun’s head - not pulling it closer or pushing it away, just resting there. “I think it would sound even better if I have your cock in my mouth while you say it.”

He lifts his head then, and there's a challenge in his eyes again - Soobin decides to just take it this time. He doesn’t let himself worry about it again.

“I thought you wanted my mouth, not the other way around,” he quips, and Yeonjun looks thoughtful for a second before smirking.

“Some other time, maybe.” He still doesn’t trust Soobin, not fully, is the unspoken part of that - and Soobin finds that he’s okay with that.

“Your loss.”

There’s a smile in Yeonjun’s eyes before he lowers himself again to sink his teeth into Soobin’s flesh. It’s different like that - with the focus on Soobin’s body and not Yeonjun’s. He’s weirdly okay with that too.

Soobin enters his and Kai’s kitchen to see his roommate and Yeonjun sit on the opposite sides of their dining table, Kai wearing his softest baby pink hoodie, Yeonjun in Soobin’s pyjama top that slides down to reveal red marks where the bralette he was wearing last night dug into his skin while he slept. They each have a bowl of cereal in front of them and are making eye contact in perfect silence.

Something about it is incredibly unnerving to witness.

“Good morning,” he says, and realises immediately that he should have considered how to talk about what happened last night - if he wanted to talk about what happened last night at all - before speaking up.

Kai lifts his head while Yeonjun drops his own lower towards his bowl. “Good morning, Soobin.”

It’s warm and there’s not a trace of question in the greeting, but Soobin knows, feels it like an itch under his skin that he can’t just make this go away without explanation. Yeonjun is in their apartment, not wearing his own clothes - Beomgyu’s Yeonjun is in their apartment, after clearly having spent the night.

Soobin reaches up to dig his nails into his own wrist, finding the scab where he broke the skin last night and hissing in pain. That makes Yeonjun look up and Kai’s eyes trail down. His roommate’s mouth sets in a small pout as he takes the damage in. With some luck, Soobin can make at least this little piece of evidence of how little he has things under control disappear.

“Are you both eating through my cocoa puff stash?” He asks loudly, and it’s effective enough in that they both look at his face instead of the scratches on his wrist, which he quickly covers up with the sleeves of his hoodie.

Kai glances at Yeonjun, then shrugs. “I caught him trying to sneak out without even getting himself a glass of water, so I made him stay for breakfast, and I wasn’t about to accidentally murder him with my cooking.” He accompanies that with an angelic smile, and Soobin finds himself snorting despite the awkwardness in the room. Yeonjun dips his head towards his bowl again, hiding his face from Soobin’s view again.

“So you’re keeping Yeonjun here against his will, is what I’m getting?”

Instead of answering, Kai gives Yeonjun a long look, his eyes flickering over his face, over his reddened exposed shoulder, his messy hair. “Yeonjun can go where Yeonjun wants. But your cocoa puffs are worth staying for,” he settles on eventually, with another innocent smile.

With a sigh, Soobin walks over, stealing a spoonful of cereal right from under Kai’s nose. It is his own cereal, after all - and despite his lack of appetite this morning, it tastes sweet enough knowing Kai wasn’t ready to part with it. “You still could have made yourself a sandwich,” he points out, and then sneaks a glance at Yeonjun, finally able to see his face from his new position.

It’s swollen and his cheeks are reddened, eyes puffy after all the crying he did last night, some of it because of the shit he was dealing with, some of it an unfortunate side-effect of one of the most enthusiastic blowjobs Soobin has ever received in his life. His pretty mouth is pulled down in a frown, and Soobin thinks maybe their mouths would taste the same today if he walked over there and kissed him.

There’s something comforting about that. About them sharing a taste. Chocolate milk and misery.

He finds himself laughing, and it’s close enough to Kai’s “Well, I wanted to be a good host and share…” to be passed off as a reaction to it, even though when Yeonjun’s eyes meet his he gets the feeling that Yeonjun knows Soobin is laughing at him. At them both.

Ruffling Kai’s hair, he walks over to the counter to make himself some strawberry tea to start his day off. He could put milk in it today, too; the thought makes the smile linger on his face even as he moves around the kitchen in the silence once again spreading through the room.

Only once the entire kitchen starts smelling like strawberries, Soobin looks over to Yeonjun to see him staring over an empty bowl of cereal. Kai is on his phone, either not noticing or pretending not to. Soobin knows he’s still smiling. Yeonjun looks confused, maybe a little hurt.

“You want some tea?” He asks, voice completely casual.

Yeonjun shakes his head. Somewhere between Kai disappearing into his own room and Soobin finishing his tea while scrolling through his phone, Yeonjun leaves without saying a word to anyone. Soobin wonders, almost giddily, if his number is going to be blocked if he checks, but he refuses to do so.

“Soobin, what did you do?”

They’re on their couch together; Kai is watching Soobin play a video game while he eats lunch. Every now and then he offers Soobin a bite, and sometimes he accepts.

He was expecting the question, sooner or later. Still hasn’t really figured out what the best answer would be.

What he settles for is, “I helped,” before he pauses the game, reaching out to card his fingers through Kai’s overgrown hair. “Ningie.”

He can see the recognition, the understanding flicker across Kai’s face. Did Kai know even before Soobin did? Did he get a feeling from Yeonjun? He could have; out of all of them, he was the most likely to be the first to spot the signs.

“So you didn’t have sex?”

There’s a note of hope in Kai’s voice that sort of breaks Soobin’s heart. “We did. But it helped.”

His roommate frowns, another little pout marring his face. “You have to tell Beomgyu, then. Not about the helping, but the rest of it. He deserves to know.”

“I know,” he pats Kai’s cheek, and he twitches away, annoyed with the affection. “I will.”

“Soon,” Kai adds sharply, more demanding than he really ever is, but Soobin gets it, honestly. His roommate cares about him. Actually cares about him, which complicates things in a moment like this, when Soobin might just be his own worst enemy.

“Sure.” he moves in and kisses Kai’s forehead with a loud, dramatic smack, offering him a goofy smile. “I’ll have lunch with him tomorrow.”

Kai rolls his eyes at Soobin while pushing him away, but then he curls up against his side instead of sticking to the armrest like before. “Keep your slobbery mouth to yourself,” he grumbles and stuffs his mouth full of food, but he sounds much calmer after Soobin’s shaky promise.

Soobin just laughs. “You love it.”

Beomgyu looks sad. They both have plates in front of them, but they’re chasing the food on top of them around, barely any of it making it into either of their mouths. It’s quiet in a way the space between them rarely is. They’re both too busy holding their own burdens to talk to each other, and maybe that means that Soobin never had a chance.

“I slept with Yeonjun.”

Beomgyu doesn’t look surprised. His eyes pick Soobin apart, peck at his skin like a pack of famished ravens, leaving him feeling raw, wounds open and bleeding. The biggest wound is in his chest, though, and they’ve both spent enough time ignoring it for Soobin to know how to mask the hurt when he needed to.

“When?”

“The day before yesterday.”

Beomgyu looks away. Soobin wonders if he’s going to cry, or scream, maybe throw his food in Soobin’s face. Wonders if he’s waiting for Soobin to try and offer him an excuse as the silence stretches. He has none, and wants none. He slept with Beomgyu’s crush because he wanted to, because he despised Yeonjun and was so fucking tired of watching Beomgyu love him.

“You’re a piece of shit, Soobin.”

Beomgyu looks disappointed, almost disgusted when he looks at him again, eyes sizing him up like he can’t believe what he’s seeing - and maybe he can’t; Soobin was a good friend to him for years. Used to be a good friend to him. They used to be so close, Soobin used to not be able to imagine his life without him at all. It seems so clear now, the vision of it. No bear emoji topping the contact list on his phone, no shushing him when he shouted loud enough to wake Soobin’s neighbours while they played video games, no heartfelt talks about their feelings. Soobin knew now what it was like living on his own. Going through the motions without a smile on that mouth he adored so much to look forward to, without a promise of those eyes looking at him again waiting for him at the end of the day. He hated it, but knew that it was inevitable at this point.

“I knew you loved me, you know. That he liked you. But I trusted you not to do this to me.”

Beomgyu looks like he knows that that hurt; like he intended it to. He knew the whole time. Beomgyu knew why Yeonjun’s faded existence was driving Soobin mad, and kept bringing him along while he went to see him. Beomgyu knew Yeonjun wanted Soobin, knew he could keep his crush coming around if there was the promise of Soobin tagging along.

They were all sick, weren’t they? Lovesick, or just sick in the head.

Taehyun meets Soobin on campus again, and they spend their break between their classes together in a café. He’s a business major, which is news to Soobin, and he has a cat back at his parents’ house that has a dedicated photo album on his phone. Soobin learns his coffee order, listens to him talk about the ecosystem of the Great Barrier Reef and the progres he’s made in the gym since they last met.

They don’t talk about Yeonjun, or Beomgyu, and Soobin wonders if Taehyun knows, if that’s why he didn’t just walk past Soobin this time. If this is a show of sympathy, if this is an apology, if Taehyun realises that if it wasn’t for his mouth, for his laugh and his body, Soobin never would have met up with him and Yeonjun enough to give Yeonjun the confidence to actually come to him for sex. Were it not for Taehyun, Soobin and Beomgyu would have still been friends.

Soobin doesn’t hold it against him, but he wants to know if Taehyun put the pieces together.

Taehyun offers Soobin half of his muffin, but he declines. Throughout the whole time, they barely touch, the tips of their feet bumping into each other the only semi-regular point of contact. Taehyun doesn’t kiss or hug him goodbye, just offers him a smile, a nod and a ‘see you around’. Soobin wants to drag him to the bathroom and drop to his knees for him; wants to kiss him hard enough to make the girls checking him out at the table next to them disgusted. He’s not fully sure why; if he just wants to erase the swirling clouds inside his skull through his touch like he did so many times before, if he wants to show how grateful he is for the distraction he did provide or if it’s just unthinkable in Soobin’s mind to spend time alone with Taehyun without them having sex.

Maybe the most important part is that he doesn’t go through with it, that he mirrors Taehyun’s nod and lets him leave. He buys himself a sandwich before he leaves for his class, and eats it outside before he goes back home. There’s a text from Taehyun on his phone when he’s unlocking his apartment door, letting him know about a party that’s coming up. Soobin wants to ask if Yeonjun is coming, but he doesn’t.

I’ll be there, he says and gets a smiling emoji in return.

Yeonjun’s wearing a see-through shirt, and Soobin finally accepts his invitation to dance. He doesn’t try to push their bodies together, doesn’t try to grind, but he also doesn’t try to make conversation; just grips tightly onto Soobin’s hands and dances like he could sweat all of his worries away, then drags Soobin upstairs and blows him in a bathroom.

He’s wearing eyeliner, but Soobin only notices once it’s runny and blurred, their eyes seemingly glued to each other as they stand too close, Soobin’s hands on Yeonjun’s ass while Yeonjun tugs at his skin absent-mindedly again. It feels like they should be kissing, or Soobin should be trying to get Yeonjun off, anything but staring at each other in complete silence, but neither of them moves for the longest time.

“I’m sorry about you and Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says, then bites his lip nervously.

Soobin’s fingers squeeze enough to punch a sound out of Yeonjun’s mouth while he takes a deep breath. “Fuck Beomgyu.”

There’s this strange look in Yeonjun’s eyes while his thumbs smooth down the sides of Soobin’s neck. “He seemed like a nice guy.”

“He was,” Soobin says, nonsensically, before he finally leans down to kiss Yeonjun, biting his lips, licking them, tasting them. The flavour of the week is dick and strawberry daiquiri. “Fuck him.”

Instead of arguing, Yeonjun lets Soobin pull him closer, lets his hands explore his chest, lets his thigh press between his legs almost tentatively, then more firmly when he doesn’t flinch away. He wraps his arms around Soobin and holds him just as close, and for a second it almost feels like they need each other equal amounts.

It’s the first time he actually sees Yeonjun orgasm, and it’s almost cute, his whole body shakes against Soobin’s, and he’s whining and whimpering, clearly trying not to be too loud but struggling to do so, and Soobin holds him tightly by the waist all through it, squeezing his side when he says his name somewhere in the midst of the more incoherent sounds, lets Yeonjun rest his forehead on his shoulder in the aftermath, accepts a kiss and a thank you whispered against his lips.

Soobin watches Yeonjun collect himself, slowly pulling away, and tries to hate him again. Tries to hate this. Tries to feel bad about this, feel anything than vague amusement at how gone he seems from just grinding his dick against Soobin’s thigh while they’re both fully clothed.

He can’t. He can’t gather enough energy to feel a thing.

“You’re pretty when you come,” he says when Yeonjun steps out of the circle of his arms, and the other almost stumbles, catching himself on the shower wall and blinking at him owlishly.

“I’m not pretty all the time?” he says then, but his tone is off and his swollen lips make his words sound pouty and childish.

Soobin makes an ambiguous noise; Yeonjun tells him to get out, and Soobin does, leaving him to try to salvage his pants alone. He seeks out Taehyun, who’s chatting with a bunch of guys Soobin probably should know, steals his beer and downs it in one go. Taehyun laughs at him, then agrees to follow Soobin to the kitchen to look for more alcohol. He asks where Yeonjun is, and Soobin tells him point blank that he’s trying to get cum out of his pants in the bathroom upstairs, probably.

Taehyun watches him carefully as Soobin hands him an opened beer. Soobin looks back head-on. He knows, doesn’t he? Has to know. He and Yeonjun are best friends, he knew about Yeonjun wanting to fuck him before Soobin himself did. There’s no way he doesn’t know, didn’t put two and two together when they disappeared upstairs together.

So it’s time for Soobin to find something out.

He pins Taehyun to the wall next to the fridge, kisses him with the same mouth that devoured Yeonjun’s before, runs the same tongue that licked the taste of Soobin’s own cum out of Yeonjun’s mouth along Taehyun’s teeth - and he has to know that, too; has to taste it, even through the alcohol and the lingering taste of strawberries.

But he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he lifts his hips to meet Soobin’s, and it’s probably the quickest Soobin’s ever felt him get hard since they started hooking up. It makes his blood boil; he’s not hard himself, not yet, but the urge to see Taehyun come is overwhelming. He ditches their beers on top of the fridge, then tries to press even closer until the air between them is suffocating. They’re basically in public, in a dark corner of a room, but the door is wide open for anyone to walk through - he’s not drunk enough to say he’s not aware of how much they shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen, but something about this situation is making him feel like he’s temporarily gone out of his mind.

Two pretty best friends, and they both want him bad enough to let him treat them like they’re cheap, like they’re easy. Soobin can’t have the guy his heart wants, but he gets to pick who he wants to fuck tonight. Nice guys finish last and Soobin…

Soobin can’t feel a thing, he can’t think while he loosens Taehyun’s belt, shoves one hand down the back of his pants and one down the front, only relenting when Taehyun won’t stop hitting his chest and biting him when Soobin tries to kiss him and gathering some spit to ease the way before he dives back into him. Everything is messy and wet - his hands, the poor excuse for a kiss they’re trying to maintain to keep the noise to a minimum, the sweat they’re working up in the heated air between them, the one tear that works its was down Taehyun’s face has he clings to Soobin, clearly overwhelmed right before the rubber band Soobin has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps and he spills right into Soobin’s palm.

Everything is so painfully quiet once they both still, and they just breathe together, Soobin slowly starting to feel the pain of the scratches at the back of his neck, on his shoulders where Taehyun’s fingers dipped under the collar on his shirt, the sweat sticking his shirt to his skin. Taehyun is breathing hard and his breaths keep hitching, his eyes squeezed shut, his fists tight around Soobin’s shirt even as the rest of him relaxes minutely. Soobin pulls his hands away, carefully does his pants up with his clean hand.

Then a roll of kitchen towels appears in his view, and he looks up the familiar arm holding onto it to find Yeonjun standing next to them, shielding them away from the view from the door with his body. Soobin wipes his hands while they maintain eye contact; he can’t read Yeonjun’s eyes at all.

Once his hands are clean, he takes another towel and tries to wipe the spit and tears off of Taehyun’s face. There’s more tears on it now than there were before. His eyelashes are wet and his mouth is tight and trembling. Soobin feels vaguely sick; his heart is in his stomach.

Yeonjun’s hand appears again, this time to pet Taehyun’s head before carding through his hair comfortingly. “Are you okay, baby?” He doesn’t sound mad, just painfully, achingly gentle.

Taehyun shakes his head, and Soobin feels something for the first time that night. His own hands come up to wrap around Taehyun’s, thumbs running over the backs of them before Taehyun finally lets go of his shirt, letting Soobin hold his hands instead. “Can you take me home?”

Soobin and Yeonjun’s eyes meet again before Yeonjun leans closer to his best friend. “Which one of us?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, voice strained and small. “Both?”

The fondness in Yeonjun’s eyes is palpable, and Soobin thinks about the night Yeonjun admitted to having had a crush on Taehyun. He wonders if he ever confessed; if Taehyun knows. For now, he just watches Yeonjun press a soft kiss to Taehyun’s temple. “Okay.” He reaches out to touch Soobin’s arm, shifting his attention to him again. “Get him outside? I’ll grab him some water and call for a ride.”

Soobin feels a little numb, but nods quickly, anyway, squeezing Taehyun’s hands as Yeonjun moves away from them before coaxing him to get on Soobin’s back, giving him a piggyback ride through the house and across the lawn between the house they’re at and the curb, where they sit down side by side, Taehyun wrapping himself around Soobin’s arm and pressing as close as possible, his breathing still uneven. Soobin strokes his hand down his thigh until Yeonjun gets there, sitting on Taeyhun’s other side and wrapping an arm around him, leaning against him and covering him like a blanket.

By the time their ride arrives, Taehyun has drunk two thirds of a water bottle, forcing it into Soobin’s hands afterwards to drink the rest, and his breathing has evened out again. He’s still quiet, and doesn’t protest at all when Yeonjun declares that they’ll all be sitting in the back, Taehyun halfway in both of their laps. Soobin keeps a hand on his thigh while Taehyun rests his head on his arm. Yeonjun asks Taehyun if it’s okay to take him to his place instead of Taehyun’s dorm, and he nods before grabbing Yeonjun's hand. The driver keeps giving them strange looks, especially once Yeonjun throws an arm over the back of their seats and leans close into Taehyun’s space again, but Soobin glares at him until he stops glancing into the rearview mirror.

They tip well, and Soobin carries Taehyun on his back all the way up to Yeonjun’s apartment. Only once Yeonjun is unlocking the door does he realise that he’s never been there before, and he hesitates a little before stepping in.

It’s messy; it’s a shoebox of an apartment, just a couch, a TV, a single desk with two chairs, a bed and a kitchenette, one door leading to a tiny balcony, one to a bathroom, and an open sliding door to a walk-in closet. There’s clothes everywhere, a pile of books next to the TV and a neat pile of empty beer bottles next to the fridge. The bed he drops Taehyun off on is unmade, but he doesn’t seem to mind, crawling up it and curling up in the soft-looking blanket on top of it. He looks adorable, and Soobin finds himself just standing by the foot of the bed, staring at him.

Yeonjun hands him a glass of water, and he takes it and downs it while Yeonjun crawls onto the bed with two mugs in his hands.

“Tyun.” When the blanket-covered body doesn’t move, Yeonjun pokes it with a finger. “Babe.”

Taehyun lets out a grumbling sound, and Yeonjun’s mouth twitches into an almost-smile.

“Have some more water.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

That makes Taehyun throw the blanket off and glare at Yeonjun, who just smiles in response and hands Taeyhun the mug. It takes a few seconds of a staredown, but Taehyun relents eventually, sitting up and actually drinking what he’s offered.

Something settles as they all just quietly sip on water in the relative darkness of Yeonjun’s tiny apartment. The only light that’s on is a single light strip over the counter in the kitchenette, and it leaves most things painted in stark shadows. They’re far up enough that the noise of the traffic is only light through the single closed window, and the air smells like cigarette smoke. Soobin’s shoulders finally loosen a little as he watches Taehyun’s hand hold the mug in a steady grip, as he listens to his calm breathing. He’s okay. Soobin didn’t fuck up irreparably - he’ll be okay.

“I’m sorry,” he says once he finishes his glass, setting it down on the floor in front of the bed before carefully settling down at the foot of it, leaving ample distance between himself and Taehyun.

Both Taehyun's and Yeonjun’s eyes snap to him from where they were staring off into space before.

“I’m sorry, too,” Taehyun says quietly, then gives him a wry smile. Soobin wants to hug him, wrap his arms around his waist and tackle him onto the bed and not let him go until the sun comes up again.

“You didn’t-”

“I got overwhelmed. It was a lot, but not in a bad way. I should have stopped you, because I knew I was gonna crash badly. I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

Soobin blinked at him. It’s as simple as that - the whole thing was just as intense, just as frantic and irrational for Taehyun as it was for Soobin. And he liked it, even as his brain struggled to process it properly. It’s different; so different from what he and Taehyun usually are; they’re laughter and the most casual of casual sex. They have fun in the bedroom, in the bathrooms at parties - it’s about pleasure, about helping each other relax and have a good time. The need is never as all-consuming, as mind-numbing, as burning as it was back there.

And it took what, the lingering taste of Yeonjun in Soobin’s mouth to get them like this? That’s fucked up, isn’t it? Has to be. Who the fuck gets off hard enough they cry by knowing they’re getting a handjob from the same pair of hands that held their best friend? Who gets their dick sucked by someone, then goes to that person’s best friend for seconds just to know if they could?

Sick in the head; absolutely sick in the head.

“I shouldn’t have… I started it.”

Taehyun shrugs. “I liked it. I wanted it.”

Yeonjun is watching them talk about this like it’s normal, and that’s making this surreal to Soobin. Have they done this before? Yeonjun seemed to know his way around Taehyun in that state; didn’t seem alarmed by it. Have they ever fucked? Soobin would pay to see them fuck.

“I need to change,” Yeonjun declares, leaning over to kiss Taehyun’s cheek, who pushes him away before he can make contact. “Do you want pants, baby? Or just some underwear?”

Taehyun narrows his eyes at him, even as he lets Yeonjun take the mug out of his hands and put it on the night table along with his own. “You can stop with the ‘baby’ now.”

“Nah, you’re baby for the rest of the night,” the other beams at his best friend, ruffling his hair which Taehyun does not manage to stop him from doing. “I’m taking full advantage of this.”

“Fuck off.”

Soobin watches the glare turn fond as soon as Yeonjun’s back is turned as he gets off the bed and walks off towards the walk-in closet.

“Be good, or I’ll make you wear those strawberry pyjamas again.”

A smile tugs at Soobin’s mouth, completely involuntary.

“You wouldn’t.”

Yeonjun peeks out through the doorway, a completely unconvincing glare on his face. “You wanna try me, punk?”

With a smile growing on his face, Taehyun tumbles over onto his back, then turns over onto his side, bringing the fluffy blanket in him, curling up into an adorable little ball. “I’m baby, remember?”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue, just disappears in his closet. Taehyun shifts his eyes to Soobin, and they’re alight; mischievous; conspiratorial. Soobin’s never wanted to kiss him more.

“He’s a softie,” he says so quietly Soobin barely hears him. Soobin grins and nods, and Taehyun reaches out for his hand, which he obediently offers him to hold. “Are you gonna stay with us for the night?”

Yeonjun walks out of the closet in just a thin tank top and a pair of boxers, holding a mess of black fabric in his hand. Soobin looks over at him.

“Can I? Stay here for the night?”

The owner of the apartment pauses, sizes Soobin up, then shrugs. “What baby wants, baby gets,” he quips, throwing the fabric at Taehyun’s face, who just laughs from underneath it. “You can stay if you want, but I’m warning you all that my bed is not made for this.”

It’s different than when they slept over at Soobin’s place on his birthday; back then, it was Soobin spooning Taehyun with Yeonjun off to the side, but now, partially out of necessity, because Yeonjun’s bed was not made for this and partially because something about Taehyun still seems so incredibly, uncharacteristically fragile, they’re all close together, Taehyun sandwiched in the middle, Yeonjun scooted down the bed with his feet almost dangling off the edge so he can nuzzle into Taehyun’s chest from one side while Soobin fits himself along his other side. At any point, he could reach over to touch Yeonjun’s messy black hair, and there’s something so surreal about that. Taehyun’s fingers are restless before he falls asleep, picking at the shoulder of Yeonjun’s tank top and tickling the back of Soobin’s hand where it covers Taehyun’s shoulder. It’s pleasant; affectionate. Soobin feels incredibly warm as he lets sleep pull him under.

Yeonjun has a single candy bar in his pantry and they split it three ways while they drink coffee on the bed. Taehyun is tucked under Soobin’s arm and they lean against the headboard together while he has his feet in Yeonjun’s lap, whose legs are thrown over Soobin’s. It’s a strange, intricate puzzle, one that makes no sense until it’s put together, when it finally starts forming a coherent picture.

Once they’re done with their meagre breakfast, Taehyun swings over into Soobin’s lap, shoves his tongue into his mouth and pulls his hands around himself and to his own ass, finally giving him something familiar in the form of a laugh he lets out once Soobin gives into the silent request and squeezes.

“I’m still into you. I want to keep hooking up,” he pants in his mouth and Soobin laughs.

“Okay.”

“Let’s chill with the public sex though.” Taehyun’s thumb wipes some spit off the corner of Soobin’s mouth. His eyes are sparkling and so wide.

“It’s not really my thing anyways,” he admits and Taehyun smiles.

“Nice.” He kisses him again, then gets out of his lap again, sitting down next to him, giving Yeonjun an expectant look.

Yeonjun looks apprehensive; Soobin doesn’t blame him. They’re technically not anything. Not fuckbuddies. Not even buddies, especially not now that Beomgyu is out of the picture.

Beomgyu. Soobin’s heart seizes a little and his smile falters. Yeonjun looks at his own feet instead of at either of them. He looks crumpled and his face is puffy with sleep and the aftermath of a night of drinking - he’s good-looking, sure, but he’s not dazzling. Soobin tries to find him worth ruining a friendship over, but he’s just a person. At the end of the day, he’s not any less of a mess than Soobin is.

So why did it have to be him?

It wouldn’t be good for them to keep sleeping together. Soobin knows Yeonjun’s secret now, and he knows how to hold him, how to touch him, but that knowledge being held by someone who could barely get himself to like Yeonjun served more to his detriment than anything. Soobin likes being wanted by Yeonjun, because it makes him feel like he’s won something. He can’t look away from Yeonjun, because he’s still looking for a reason, somewhere between his mouth and the lithe lines of his body. In the tanktop, he looks even skinnier than usual. The candy bar in Soobin’s stomach feels like a handful of pebbles.

Soobin looks at Taehyun, who’s looking at Yeonjun with pity in his eyes. Taehyun loves Yeonjun too - maybe because he knows Yeonjun loves him back, maybe because he knows exactly what to do when Taehyun cries, because he can hold him just right and calls him baby when he’s upset, because he keeps flavoured creamer stocked in his kitchen even though he drinks his coffee black, because Taehyun can’t stand drinking it that way.

“Taehyun,” he calls with resolution he doesn’t feel when Yeonjun doesn’t make the move. Taehyun looks over at Soobin, and he can’t make out anything but curiosity in his eyes when their gazes meet. “Are you attracted to women?”

Yeonjun moves as soon as the question leaves Soobin’s mouth, turning around where he’s sitting and laying his head on top of Soobin’s outstretched legs. One of his hands runs over his chest, almost absent-mindedly, exposing more skin as he pulls at the loose fabric of the tank top. He doesn’t look at Taehyun, though - stares at the ceiling instead.

Does Taehyun know? He has to, doesn’t he?

The way he stares at Yeonjun’s profile while answering seems to be an answer to Soobin’s question. “That’s not really how it works for me.” He shrugs, looks down at the messy sheets, then up at Soobin. “I’m attracted to people - doesn’t really matter what they’ve got going on.”

Soobin feels the ticklish sensation of Yeonjun tucking his hand under Soobin’s bare knee, caressing the skin there. It’s random, and it feels a little bit like Yeonjun is comforting himself with the touch. Soobin lets him do it, and maybe that’s a testament to his growth as a person.

“So you don’t have preferences.”

“Of course I have preferences,” Taehyun looks much more firm when saying that. “But that’s different. Don’t you have preferences?”

His eyes travel down Taehyun’s body, then glance at Yeonjun’s unreadable face before tracing his shape as well. “I guess I do.”

Taehyun huffs, then flops over to use one of Yeonjun’s thighs as a pillow, their little puzzle rearranging itself, but fitting together once again. The hand Yeonjun was touching Soobin with leaves to brush Taehyun’s bangs out of his eyes. Soobin thinks they’d make a good couple, if they could. A pretty one for sure.

“Have you two ever kissed?”

They both look at Soobin. Yeonjun looks tired, Taehyun almost annoyed. Neither of them answers.

“Have you two fucked?”

Yeonjun’s fingers flex in Taehyun’s hair, and then he’s sitting up, giving Taehyun time to lift his head off of him before he climbs up Soobin’s body to sit in his lap, grabbing his hair aggressively before kissing him. It’s not a giggly, fun kiss. It’s angry and intense and full of teeth. It’s a shut the fuck up in the form of a kiss, and Soobin welcomes it with his fingers digging into Yeonjun’s sides. Maybe this is what they are to each other - a giant sore spot they can’t help irritating. He can work with that; he’s an expert on aches that refuse to go away.

He has Yeonjun on his back, thin thighs pressing into his hips and scalp burning from having his hair pulled, when they feel the bed shifting as Taehyun gets off the bed. It’s Yeonjun who reacts first, face contorting in something that looks like panic, reaching for his hand.

“Baby,” he says like it’s an instinct and Soobin sits up on his feet when Taehyun’s fingers flex in Yeonjun’s grip but he doesn’t tell Yeonjun not to call him that. Yeonjun’s mouth opens and closes and they watch his Adam’s apple bob with a swallow. “Borrow whatever clothes you want?”

Taehyun blinks at him. “Sure.” It’s emotionless, a little empty.

Soobin takes a deep breath and pushes at Yeonjun’s legs, unwrapping them from around himself. “I should get going, too. Kai was expecting me at home last night.”

Yeonjun looks at him and swallows again, but nods. “Sure. I have a hoodie of yours you should take back, by the way.”

That’s where it went. Taehyun’s eyes flick between the two of them, then he disappears into the walk-in closet.

Soobin gets off the bed. Yeonjun stays where he is, shutting his eyes tight before covering his face with his hands. He wants to say he’s sorry, for whatever the hell is happening, but he can’t get himself to speak up.

They’re alone in the elevator together. Taehyun is wearing a shirt that’s obviously the wrong size and a pair of patterned shorts, a plastic bag with last night’s clothes dangling off his fingers as they wait for the door to open again.

“We’ve kissed maybe three times,” he says out of nowhere, then glances up at Soobin like he’s gauging his reaction. Soobin just nods. “Almost had sex once, while he was high and I was drunk.”

He gives another careful nod. Taehyun takes a deep breath and shrugs.

“He was touching me, but when I tried to touch him, he got upset and pulled back completely. Left the party. Wouldn’t talk to me for almost a month after that. I thought our friendship was over.”

Soobin stares at him. Did Yeonjun ever tell him he had a crush on him? Does he know what made Yeonjun panic? The lack of words never bothered him with Taehyun, but it does now. They don’t know each other, don’t know shit about each other’s lives, and it probably shows.

“Doesn’t that make it weird? Talking to each other about fucking other people? Kissing me in front of him?”

“We don’t let it,” Taehyun sounds stern; resolute. Then his eyes drop to Soobin’s mouth. “Usually.”

The door opens, and they both hesitate to step out.

“Do you love him?” Soobin asks and Taehyun gives him the smallest of smiles when he answers, “He’s my best friend.”

Kai is in the kitchen when Soobin gets home, eating a pudding cup while some video plays on his phone on top of the counter. Soobin walks straight into his arms, and Kai just holds him tight immediately.

“Where were you?” He asks, voice muffled by Soobin’s hair.

Soobin wants to cry. Thinks he could, in the warmth that Kai’s embrace provides. There’s a part of him that never wants to leave it again. “Yeonjun’s.”

His roommate lets out a sound Soobin can’t  decipher, and he pulls away briefly to put his food down so he can run his hand down Soobin’s back soothingly. “Soobinnie.”

It makes him think of Yeonjun, of him calling Taehyun Tyun, calling him baby, kissing his face. He doesn’t know how to feel. Doesn’t know how he feels. His own best friend blocked his number a week ago. Kai is the only person he has left, really.

So he breaks down in Kai’s arms; admits to missing Beomgyu, to having kissed both Yeonjun and Taehyun in one night, and then again this morning. Kai pets his hair, his face, orders them soup for lunch and watches Soobin like an over-concerned mother as he chokes it down.

“Maybe you should take a break from seeing them,” Kai suggests in the evening, when Soobin once again feels capable of supporting his own weight, curled up in a blanket on one side of their couch.

“I guess I should,” he agrees quietly.

He needs to belong to himself again; he knows that.

Kai is out for choir. Taehyun is in Soobin’s bed with cum on his chin, blinking up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. They’re both distracted today; neither of them relaxed after getting off like they usually did. It all feels wrong, empty, a slightly crooked version of what used to be the perfect key to achieving some satisfaction in their messy lives.

Soobin kisses his sternum and Taehyun scratches his nails through the hair behind his ear like he’s a cat; that feels good, at least.

“Do you know about Yeonjun?”

Taehyun wipes at his chin with the back of his hand and makes a face. “I know everything about Yeonjun.”

“You know why he came to me that night?” Soobin raises himself up on his arms to look down at his face.

He looks up at him impassionately. “I know how he thinks when he’s spiralling.”

“Do you think you can help him?”

His pretty face falters. “I don’t know.”

They eat lunch together; Taehyun shows him another video of his cat and Soobin talks about the cactus he and Kai adopted. Soobin eats half of the food on his plate and Taehyun stares at it appraisingly.

“Yeonjun has been avoiding me,” he says at some point. “He’s texting back, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to see me.”

“I’m sorry,” Soobin replies.

Taehyun shrugs. “At least this time he didn’t cut me out completely.”

It’s still Soobin’s fault. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for him. They would all be so much happier now if it wasn’t for him.

He scratches at his wrist until it stings, then brings Taehyun with him to the bathroom and tries to blow him in one of the stalls. Neither of them are into it enough to see it through. Soobin kind of wants to cry, but Taehyun kisses him before they part ways and thanks him, and while it reminds him of Yeonjun in a way he doesn’t need to have on his mind, it’s comforting to know Taehyun knows Soobin is trying. In his own lame, ineffective, dirty way he's trying to be there for Taehyun.

The next time he sees Yeonjun, his hair is long enough in the back to cover his neck completely. He’s sobbing uncontrollably, and there’s makeup smudged all over his face. There’s no cute outfit this time, just a loose white shirt and some yoga pants. Soobin considers calling Taehyun, but changes his mind once Yeonjun crashes into his chest, getting the colourful mess of product on his face on Soobin’s sweatshirt. He guides Yeonjun into his bedroom and ignores Kai peeking out through the cracked-open door of his room.

Yeonjun continues sobbing once he’s lying back on Soobin’s sheets, and he wishes that he knew Yeonjun as well as Taehyun does, just for the next hour or so. That he knew Yeonjun as well as Yeonjun knows Taehyun.

They’re picking the wrong guy; everyone’s always picking the wrong guy around here.

He gets makeup wipes from the bathroom and helps Yeonjun wipe his face clean, then takes his dirty sweatshirt off and gets in the bed with him - Yeonjun wraps himself around his body, pressing as close as possible. The sobbing seems to have subsided a little, but the tears soak through Soobin’s T-shirt, anyway.

“What happened?” He asks, but Yeonjun doesn’t answer. With a sigh, he presses a kiss into Yeonjun’s hair, then runs his fingers through the long strands at the back.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, and he imagines that it’s Taehyun - the only person aside from Kai who texts him these days. He doesn’t move to check it, and Yeonjun doesn’t ask.

At some point, there’s a knock on the door, and Yeonjun hides himself under the covers while Soobin gets up to see what Kai needs. He’s handed their biggest mug, filled to the brim with strawberry tea and a packet of bland crackers. There’s a thin smile on his face; Soobin wants to hug him, but he just takes the offerings and thanks him for them before closing the door again.

Yeonjun sits up while he’s setting it all down on the nightstand. “He’s so nice,” he whispers in an absolutely destroyed voice. Soobin wonders if someone bruised his throat earlier, but doesn’t ask.

“He is,” he agrees, then picks the mug up again and hands it to Yeonjun. It’s obvious who it’s for. Despite knowing it’s not the right thing to say given their situation, he adds, “I don’t deserve him.”

To his surprise, Yeonjun just laughs wetly - it almost sounds painful, but he chases it with a sip of the tea and his sigh afterwards sounds genuinely relieved. Soobin trades him the mug for a pack of tissues, which he accepts gratefully too, wiping his face and blowing his nose.

Then he looks Soobin straight in the eye with eyes full of strained amusement. “I don’t deserve Tyun, either.”

A better person would try to deny that. Soobin shrugs and opens the pack of crackers with no intention of eating any of them. “Could anyone? He’s kind of perfect.” Handsome. Funny. Hot. Compatible in bed with Soobin. Smart. Cute. Loyal. And his favourite thing about him from the start - easy.

Yeonjun snatches a cracker from him when he sits down, then splits it in two. “He cried on you after a handjob.”

Soobin nods. Yeonjun pops one half of the cracker into his own mouth. “Perfect.”

The mouth Soobin could never help but assign flavours to curves into a small, fond smile, and Soobin can’t tell if it’s aimed at him or at Taehyun. Yeonjun moves forward and kisses him, parts his lips with his own, then pulls back and shoves the other half of the cracker in Soobin’s mouth before covering it with his hand.

It melts in his mouth nauseatingly, but he swallows, and Yeonjun kisses his nose when he lets his mouth go like he’s rewarding him for a job well-done. Soobin rubs at it, the feeling it leaves behind ticklish, while Yeonjun eats another cracker whole, then moves over himself to bring the mug of tea into his own lap.

They stare at each other, Yeonjun occasionally sipping on the tea.

“Why are you here?” Soobin asks eventually.

Yeonjun reaches for a cracker, brings it up to Soobin’s lips, lets it knock against his teeth. His eyes make it clear that Soobin eating it is the price for an answer, so he does it, and Yeonjun takes one for himself again. “I wanted to feel your hands on my tits again,” he says casually, nibbling on the treat instead of eating it whole this time. “Maybe make you call me pretty. Or a slut, I liked that, too.”

It takes him by surprise, but Soobin knows it’s a distraction; can tell that it is, even though he doesn’t know Yeonjun nearly as well as he could.

“Why were you crying?”

At that, Yeonjun scoffs and stares into the mug of tea. “Can’t a girl have a good cry on her way to a dick appointment?”

It’s the first time he hears Yeonjun talk like this, even off-handedly, even as a joke, even as something that could be brushed off so easily. Soobin manages to make eye contact and begs for the answer to how seriously should I take this, getting nothing in return. Yeonjun is completely blank, no matter how close to the verge of just asking Soobin is.

The silence stretches, and then it snaps, but in a completely different direction than Soobin was expecting it to.

“Taehyun came over today,” Yeonjun mentions out of nowhere, reaches a hand up and tugs at the long hair covering his neck. “He said he liked my hair, that he’d braid it for me sometime. Apparently his sister taught him how to do it.”

Soobin stares while Yeonjun sips the strawberry tea, then sniffles unprettily.

“He cares about you so much,” he breathes out, like it’s punched out of him, and Yeonjun’s answering laugh sounds almost the same.

“I know. It’s fucked up, being in love with someone who likes you, isn’t it, Soobinnie?”

He used to make Beomgyu laugh. They used to confide in each other. They used to find comfort in each other. Soobin gets why he could never have that trust back, but it hurts nonetheless.

“You said you used to have a crush on him.”

Yeonjun smiles unhappily and eats another cracker. “It’s not a crush anymore.”

Soobin takes his own without prompting. “We’ve been seeing each other. Outside of parties.”

“I know; he told me. He was worried about you when we found out about you and Beomgyu.”

It makes Soobin laugh while his chest squeezes uncomfortably. “He’s so nice, isn’t he?”

Tears run down Yeonjun’s face when he joins him. “Yeah. I don’t deserve him.”

He picks up a tissue and dabs at the tear tracks on Yeonjun’s cheeks for the lack of anything better to do. Yeonjun takes the crackers from him, then puts them along with the mug of tea on Soobin’s nightstand before climbing into his lap a little clumsily. Soobin lets him, even settles his hands on Yeonjun’s hips under the folds of the oversized shirt.

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t think about any of this,” he whispers straight in Soobin’s face, strawberries mixing with the ever lingering smell of cigarettes on his breath.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Soobin replies just as quietly, just as honestly.

Yeonjun traces Soobin’s face with his fingers, then settles them on his jaw, pulling even impossibly closer. “It would be hot to see you try, anyway.”

He pulls Soobin’s hair again when they kiss and Soobin never tells him to stop. Soobin cups his chest through the shirt, tries to make the fantasy of there being enough to grab onto properly work for the both of them, flicks his nipples and sucks on the fabric covering them while kneading Yeonjun’s ass, and he whines loud enough that Soobin hopes that Kai has headphones on if he’s still in the apartment at all. He gets Yeonjun on his back, pulls his pants off, taking the hint to keep the shirt on when Yeonjun almost frantically pulls it down as Soobin tugs the pants down his thighs, and settles between his legs once he’s settled down enough to feel comfortable doing so.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes into Yeonjun’s mouth and feels him smile against his lips. “And so easy.”

Yeonjun laughs and reaches up to grind his palm into Soobin’s half hard dick through his sweatpants. “We’re both easy.”

Soobin kisses under his ear, then blows in it lightly just to feel him squirm before adding, “But only one of us likes being called a slut.”

It makes Yeonjun shiver, and his shiver makes Soobin’s dick twitch, in the sweetest form of action and reaction. Yeonjun pulls him up for a kiss, and he goes willingly, even though he’s quickly pulling back and away again.

“Can I bite your thighs?” Soobin swears he feels them twitch just in response to his words. His palms trail up the tops of them, raising goosebumps as they go. Yeonjun is still so soft, so smooth, everywhere.

“Where?” He sounds hesitant, so Soobin doesn’t tease or beat around the bush - his hands find the insides of his thighs, right under his ass, fingers digging in carelessly.

“Right there.”

They’re staring into each other’s eyes again while Yeonjun swallows. “Okay.”

“Are you ok with bruises?”

It looks a little like Yeonjun’s eyes roll into the back of his head before he squeezes them shut. “Please.”

He makes his way down Yeonjun’s body, and he feels something in him warming way too quickly when he realises he’s never really been in this position with Yeonjun before. With his head between his legs. It makes him want to be reckless, but he knows he has to be careful with Yeonjun - can’t make the same mistake he did with Taehyun, and take too much too fast.

He tries to calm his racing thoughts by sinking his teeth into the softness, tries to focus solely on the blood rising to the surface, under the skin, until it’s hot to the touch, until he has to hold Yeonjun still when he instinctively twitches away from the pain, until he can brush his lips over fresh bruises, press kisses to them, lick over them.

His mind is almost blank when he lifts back up to kiss a promise to eat him out one day into Yeonjun’s mouth, making him moan right in his face. Soobin tells him he’s a whore, and instead of reacting, Yeonjun asks him if his new bruises are pretty with his eyes still shut, voice a barely coherent mumble.

“So pretty,” he promises while brushing sweat-matted hair out of Yeonjun’s face, and he can’t help but think about showing them off to Taehyun. Wonders if he’d like them, if he’d want to soothe them or dig his fingers into them to make Yeonjun squirm.

Soobin’s phone buzzes again and he buries his face in Yeonjun’s neck, making him squeal in surprise.

They fuck the same way as last time, most of Yeonjun’s clothes on, just pushed out of the way, Yeonjun’s face buried in the pillows and Soobin only stopping when he’s satisfied himself. This time, though, there’s a wet spot on the front of Yeonjun’s shirt when he rolls over. Soobin stares at it until Yeonjun covers it self-consciously with his hand.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” he quips, hoping that it'll chase any dark thoughts away.

Yeonjun laughs, loose enough for Soobin to relax, and he moves in to kiss the taste of strawberries and salt off of Yeonjun's lips. When he pulls back, Yeonjun keeps him close, fingers toying with his ears again, just looking into his eyes. There's sadness in the way he looks at Soobin, but there's a smile lingering on his mouth.

“You don't smoke, right?”

Soobin shakes his head.

“And I'm guessing I can't smoke in here.”

“I don't know how Kai would feel about that.”

Yeonjun hums, then taps Soobin's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “If I leave to have a smoke, will you let me back in?”

“You can take my keys; they're on the desk.”

For some reason, that makes Yeonjun smile, and he rises up to kiss Soobin again, open-mouthed but slow and indulgent, slowly moving them over until Soobin's the one on his back and Yeonjun the one hovering.

“Thank you,” he says warmly once Soobin's head is swimming from the kisses, and he realises that Yeonjun hasn't thanked him yet, the way he always has when they slept together. He nods awkwardly, and Yeonjun snickers, patting his cheek before sitting up and starting to get off the bed. “Pretty boy.”

He watches Yeonjun clean himself up with some tissues, pull his yoga pants back on and hide the stain on the shirt by tucking it in. He doesn't ask to borrow any clothes and Soobin doesn't offer, just points his keys out when Yeonjun goes to look for them, and waits for the door to fall shut.

When he checks his phone while Yeonjun is gone, he has three messages from Taehyun.

I saw Yeonjun today, says the first.

The next one reads, my roommate is out for the whole weekend if you want to come over

The most recent one came just a few minutes ago. Call me when you're free.

Soobin doesn't call him, or answer. He doesn't know what to do. They can't do this; the two can't use him as an emotional support dildo forever. Sooner or later, they'll have to figure this out; but cutting Taehyun off cold turkey would be cruel, wouldn't it? Taehyun fucked him through having to watch the man he loved pining after someone else, Soobin can fuck him through his best friend pulling away from him because of something that's not his fault; something he can't change.

He still leaves the messages on read, getting up to get himself a drink from the kitchen instead, then retreating back to his room to sit with the blankets over his legs while he scrolls through his social media absentmindedly. When Yeonjun comes back, he sheds his upper layer and throws it onto the bed before dropping himself right in Soobin's lap, wrapping his arms around Soobin's neck when he drops his phone onto the sheets so he can hold onto Yeonjun's sides.

“Who was texting you? While we were fucking.” Yeonjun says it so casually, like that question has no potential for pain in it. “Was it Beoms?”

And fuck Yeonjun, honestly, for how soft that last question sounds.

“Taehyun. Beomgyu blocked my number.”

To his credit, Yeonjun doesn't falter, but surges forward to kiss him instead, the cigarette taste in his mouth sharp and biting this time. Soobin kisses back, tries to focus on the feeling of it, on the taste, on how bony Yeonjun's arms are, how lean his sides are under Soobin's fingers.

“What did he want?” Yeonjun whispers into Soobin's mouth, undoing all of his hard work in a heartbeat, bringing them right back over to the issue they should be helping each other forget.

“He was asking me to come over.”

Yeonjun pulls back and looks at Soobin almost appraisingly. “Now?”

“Sometime this weekend – apparently he has his dorm to himself for the rest of the week.”

One of Yeonjun's hands slides down his chest. “Will you go?”

“I think so.” He can't say no to Taehyun when he's the one who needs Soobin for once.

 Yeonjun nods thoughtfully, then nudges their noses together. “Could you pass on a message from me then, if you do?”

A part of Soobin wants to point out that Yeonjun has Taehyun’s number and can tell him himself – should talk to him in general, but the other knows that it’s not that simple. “Sure. What is it?”

The hand brushing his stomach lifts to his chin and then there’s fingers tapping at his lower lip. “Open.”

He does it without thinking, and Yeonjun shivers a little against him before leaning in, pushing his tongue into Soobin’s mouth, then trying to coax Soobin’s into his own. It clicks in a single shattered, devastating moment, and Soobin offers Yeonjun his tongue to suck on.

Taehyun likes that; having his tongue sucked on. He and Yeonjun have kissed before. Soobin’s head spins out of control, and he wraps his arms around Yeonjun just a little bit tighter. His hands are so gentle on Soobin’s jaw, and he aches terribly with the knowledge that none of that gentleness belongs to him.

He wishes it would, just a little. Not because it’s Yeonjun, but because he wishes someone loved him enough to be gentle with him.

Beomgyu would have been gentle, wouldn’t he? Just like this. Slim and light in his lap, holding his face, kissing him softly, just like this – and Soobin would hold him reverently, take whatever he’s given, because he’s in love with him, stupid with it, careless with it, reckless enough to hurt him so bad it broke them irreparably.

“Soobin?” Yeonjun sounds a little concerned. Somewhere along the way, somewhere on the downright spiral his mind travelled down, Yeonjun stopped kissing him. “I… I just.”

His eyes are shut, and he doesn’t open them, just nods blindly. “I get it. I’ll pass it on.”

He tries to even his breathing out, dangerously close to crying, while Yeonjun in still on top of him, body tense in his grip, but not squirming away, letting Soobin ruck up his shirt at the back once he feels a bit more in control of himself again. Dragging his fingers up Yeonjun’s spine, he finally opens his eyes.

“Your skin is always so soft,” he remarks, and the tight, worried face Yeonjun had been aiming at him softens in response. “I love touching it.”

Yeonjun snorts, and Soobin’s subconscious chooses to interpret the strange tone of it as ‘you pathetic loser’. His thumbs draw circles into the sides of Soobin’s neck. “Do you want skincare tips? I can text you the name of the lotion I use.”

Soobin doesn’t. Soobin doesn’t give a fuck, just wants to bury himself in that skin until nothing hurts anymore. His hands reach the start of Yeonjun’s ribs, and he pauses. “Are you wearing anything under that shirt?”

Yeonjun’s fists clench on top of Soobin’s shoulders, and he sounds surprised when he answers a hesitant, “No?”

“So I can’t take it off?”

The other hesitates before responding. “What do you want to do?”

And as stupid as it is, the honest answer is, “I just want to feel you against me.”

“You want to cuddle?” Soobin shuts his eyes and shrugs. Yeonjun sounds incredulous, and Soobin doesn’t feel like dealing with the weight of his judgement right now. “Would… just my stomach be okay?”

He’s going along with it; for whatever stupid reason, Yeonjun is actually indulging Soobin’s stupid fucking request.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, just breathing it out, and something in his chest stings when the response is Yeonjun getting off his lap.

“Don’t make that face,” Yeonjun scolds, and Soobin is about to open his eyes and say something scathing when there’s a soft hand being slapped on top of them. “Don’t look. Just- hold on.”

Soobin does hold on, waiting on the bed patiently with his hands in his lap, mind going almost blissfully blank while he listens to the rustle of fabric.

It’s just a few seconds, really, before Yeonjun’s hesitant voice pipes up again. “Pants on or off?”

“Off if you can handle it.” His own voice sounds sleepy and sluggish to him. They’re both such messes. Miserable sick fuckers.

There’s a pause, and then an incredibly thin, “You want me on my back?”

Soobin nods and Yeonjun takes a long moment to think again before Soobin hears more shuffling, then the mattress shifting and the warmth of Yeonjun’s body as he climbs on the bed, settling somewhere behind him.

“You can open your eyes,” Yeonjun says then, sounding a bit more confident again, meeting Soobin’s eyes when he turns around to look at him. “We can cuddle, but don’t get between my legs unless you want to fuck me again, and stay away from…” his steady voice falters and he has to swallow.

“Your cute little tits?” Soobin has no idea where it came from, but it makes Yeonjun squeeze his eyes shut and let out a pained laugh, squirming on the bed. He finally takes in the sight in front of him, Yeonjun laid out with just so much skin on display, his shirt pulled up and wound into a knot right above his stomach, exposing skin while leaving his chest out of view, the fabric bunching enough to make it much easier to imagine what could be underneath it. Yeonjun’s hair is messy and long and he’s a little pink, and his hands look delicate where they flex on top of Soobin’s blankets.

He looks…

“You look like someone’s girlfriend.”

Yeonjun’s hands come up to hide his face, knees drawing up on instinct as he instinctively starts curling up on himself – Soobin still gets the feeling that that was the right thing to say. He pulls in closer, and Yeonjun peeks up at him from between his fingers.

“Not yours?” It’s a bold statement from someone who just shrivelled up from Soobin’s words alone, but Soobin appreciates the distraction.

Something about it makes him want to be kind, so he tugs on the end of Yeonjun’s hair gently and shrugs. “For tonight.”

Yeonjun shivers when Soobin buries his head in his stomach, the muscles of his abdomen fluttering in a ticklish reaction before he gets used to the weight, and Soobin drapes the rest of himself over Yeonjun’s legs awkwardly, feet hanging off of his own bed, but it’s worth it, for the velvety softness he gets to feel all along his body, gets to touch and nuzzle against, all while a pair of soft hands runs through his hair, over his shoulders and his upper back, fingers tugging at his ears, running along his jaw, like they’re memorising the shapes of him.

They breathe through it, through the unfamiliar gentleness, through the sharp reminders that they wished they could be holding onto other people, through the commiseration and the shame and the need.

I can come over tomorrow, Soobin texts Taehyun back while Yeonjun gulps down the remains of the strawberry tea that has gone cold hours ago. Do you still want me to call you?

Yeonjun hugs Kai before he leaves, and Soobin thinks it’s a little surreal to watch the two of them be affectionate, knowing Kai has probably had a conversation with Yeonjun all of three times. He nuzzles into the hug nonetheless, and Yeonjun seems comfortable in it, so Soobin just watches them until Yeonjun pulls away, gives Soobin an awkward nod and disappears through their front door.

“Soobin, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

He looks at Kai. Concerned, kind, loving Kai, who just hugged a virtual stranger he knows was the reason Soobin bawled in his arms just a few days ago, because he recognized they had a bad night.

“I think I’m helping,” he says vaguely.

Kai sighs. “Is Yeonjun helping?”

“I’d rather think about him and Taehyun than about Beomgyu.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Soobin shrugs. Kai sighs again and walks over to hug him, too – Soobin can’t help but notice that there’s the smell of cigarettes lingering to his hoodie from having hugged Yeonjun right before.

“Please take care of yourself,” he says into Soobin’s shoulder before walking off to his own room.

He himself heads to the kitchen and makes himself another strawberry tea with milk. As it steeps, he checks his phone, sees that Taehyun has replied already, not that long ago.

just send me a picture of your dick

I can’t sleep

want to get off thinking about it

When he obeys, because he has no reason not to, Taehyun reacts with a: have breakfast with me tomorrow – 9 am at the pancake place outside campus?

And he almost laughs before agreeing. Almost.

Just as they’re picking up their menus, Taehyun looks up at him and asks, “Were you with Yeonjun last night?”

And Soobin can’t get himself to answer. Taehyun nods.

“Do you think he’s feeling any better?”

He tries to recall what Yeonjun looked like as he was leaving, but all he can think about are his thin wrists pressing into Kai’s back as they hugged. Reaching for his wrist to itch it, he shrugs. “I think so. He seemed pretty calm when he was leaving.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

Taehyun’s voice is so painfully blank – Soobin likes him the most when he’s laughing; light-hearted. Having fun. Not serious like this. Not hiding a myriad of feelings under a careful mask of calmness.

“Yeah.”

Taehyun nods again, and they order – Soobin doesn’t really drink coffee, but he orders some this time, strawberry milk clinging to his mouth, to his teeth, even though he brushed them obsessively before coming here. He can use some bitterness to wash it down with.

They’re not looking at each other; Soobin is clawing at the inside of his own arm and Taehyun is wringing his hands on top of the table. It’s quiet; suffocating. Soobin should be helping him – clearing his mind, getting it off of Yeonjun, not making it linger on it. Can he not even do this right?

“Do you want to come with me to see him on Sunday?”

He glances up at Taehyun, who finally looks at him. “You two talked?”

Taehyun shakes his head. “He’s not expecting me.”

“Why do you want me there?”

This time, when Taehyun’s hands fidget awkwardly, Soobin reaches out to wrap his fingers around one of them, finally leaving his own arm alone. Taehyun takes a deep breath, then squeezes his fingers tight enough to hurt.

“I want to see him, but I’m a trigger. You’re the one he goes to when he’s triggered. It just makes sense.”

It can be as simple as that, can’t it?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and Taehyun almost smiles, bitterness lingering at the sides of his mouth.

“Why?”

“Because he chose me.”

They part as their drinks arrive, and don’t hold hands again once the waiter leaves. Taehyun tears a sugar packet open and dumps it into his coffee, then another and then another. “I chose you, too. I said yes when I knew how he felt about you. I took you out when I had no excuse for it anymore.” A wry smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. “I let you jerk me off after he blew you in a bathroom.”

At the end of the day, they all dug their own graves, didn’t they? Even Beomgyu. Soobin put a nail in the coffin, but Beomgyu laid down in it himself.

“I’m still sorry.”

Taehyun snorts. “I’m just jealous of you, you know?” His eyes travel across Soobin’s face, his hands, his mouth, then shift away. “You’re perfect for him – the right sexuality, the right height, you hold him right, you treat him right, and you don’t even really like him.” He laughs, half-choked. “I wish I could just snap my fingers and be you.”

Soobin doesn’t know what to say, so he drinks his coffee and then remarks, “He’s starting to grow on me.”

And this time Taehyun laughs a little easier. The waiter brings their pancakes over, and Soobin tries to eat mechanically, without thinking about it. Taehyun holds his hand whenever he loses the energy to keep lifting his fork.

“Come with me on Sunday,” he says again while dragging two of his fingers up Soobin’s middle finger.

“Okay,” Soobin agrees, and Taehyun smiles.

Taehyun’s dorm room is cold, and his bed is tiny. They lay naked on their sides with their noses touching.

“I feel so guilty,” Taehyun whispers. “He’s in pain because of me.”

“It’s not your fault.” Soobin brushes his cheekbone with his thumb, the line of it clear, pronounced in the sunlight streaming in through the open window.

“I shouldn’t have tried to fuck my best friend. Drunk or not.” There’s still no inflection, and Soobin wants him to laugh; to smile. Wants the Taehyun from that morning at Yeonjun’s back, the one laughing easily in his face while Yeonjun watches them. The one determined to make this work.

“Even if he wanted it, too?”

“I should have treated him better. I should have asked. I should have cared.”

He lets his hand slip to the back of Taehyun’s head, holding it firmly, meeting his teary eyes directly. “Did you know? Not suspected. Not ‘had a feeling’. Did you know? Had he told you already?”

Taehyun shakes his head. “Later that year. He avoided me, we made up. I found out he was dressing up and going out to hook up with random guys at some really unsafe places. Yelled at him about it, because I was worried, and he just broke down.” He shrugs. “Said it was a coping mechanism, and when I asked what he was trying to cope with, he just told me. He said he has a handle on it most days, and there’s nothing I need to do for him, that he doesn’t need help.” His mouth purses and curves into something a little ugly. “Just to get fucked every once in a while, ‘the right way’.”

Soobin shifts to wrap his arm around Taehyun’s middle instead and pulls him closer. Taehyun shakes his head again.

“He never said that was the reason he left that night, the reason he ignored me, but I figured.”

His face scrunches, holding back tears, and Soobin tilts his head and kisses his mouth as softly as he can manage. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I think he needs help. I should have pushed him to see someone about it.” He breathes it out against Soobin’s mouth like a secret, like it’s something he’s never told anyone, and Soobin is inclined to believe it.

“Would he have let you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Will he let you try now?”

Taehyun bites his own lip, and Soobin tries to soothe it with a kiss. “I don’t know.”

Sighing, Soobin nuzzles their noses together. “Something’s gotta give.”

Taehyun asks to be the one to top this time, and right before he pushes inside, Soobin brings his fingers to his chin, asks him to open his mouth, and relays the kiss Yeonjun wanted him to pass on. He holds Taehyun gently and he shakes against him, above him and Soobin feels like a piece of shit, even though Yeonjun asked him to do this. It’s not fair to Taehyun, is it? It’s not fair.

He feels like he deserves it when Taehyun fucks him twice as hard as usual, and part of him wants to roll over and press his own face into the pillows, push his ass up the way Yeonjun does for him, but he knows that would be fucked up, although the thought turns him on anyways. They’re passing him between them, the proxy they fuck their feelings for each other out through, the rainbow fucking bridge between Taehyun’s dick and Yeonjun’s ass, a filthy game of telephone, but Soobin is always in the middle and the message always gets scrambled before it reaches the other end.

Soobin knows Taehyun can tell his mind is barely there while they fuck, but he also knows Taehyun can tell that Soobin suspects this round is a favour more than a matter of mutual satisfaction.

It’s a coping mechanism, and Soobin’s familiar enough with being one of those now it’s easy for him to lie back and take it, run his fingertips across Taehyun’s body instead of his hands to not remind him it’s not a pair of soft, small ones touching him, close his eyes so he doesn’t feel tempted to check if Taehyun is really looking at him anymore, even though they’re face to face.

Taehyun comes and Soobin doesn’t, and he holds Taehyun on top of his chest and runs his fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead, soothing the best he can get himself to be.

“Taehyun.”

He hums into Soobin’s sternum, sounding exhausted.

“How did Yeonjun know exactly what to do when you broke down at that party?”

“He’s been with me through a lot,” Taehyun mumbles vaguely.

Soobin waits for him to elaborate, but he falls asleep on top of him instead.

Kai texts him, we need to talk when you come home, at about 4 in the afternoon. He promises to be back before Monday morning.

He and Taehyun are at the mall, at some weird boutique neither of them would have stepped a foot in otherwise. Taehyun’s foot is tapping impatiently, and Soobin reaches out to drum his fingers on the small of his back, making him look up. He doesn’t know what to do with his face, doesn’t know how to reassure him without looking fake, but Taehyun smiles nonetheless. Maybe just the thought counts.

The girl behind the register offers Taehyun a blinding smile of her own as he passes him the white plastic bag and a receipt. “Your girlfriend will love it.”

They exchange looks, and Soobin gives him a wry smirk. Taehyun snorts.

“Thank you,” he replies, sounding genuine despite everything, and takes it.

Soobin’s not sure who makes the move first, but they’re holding hands by the time they walk out the doors, Taehyun’s thumb running up and down Soobin’s finger like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“This is stupid,” Taehyun says, looking at the bag.

“It’s thoughtful.”

“What if it triggers him again?”

“He’ll know you meant well.”

“Like when I tried to fuck him?”

“That’s different.”

Taehyun sighs, rubs at his forehead with the hand holding the bag. He looks stressed, tense. Soobin reaches out with his free hand, wraps his arm around Taehyun’s shoulders, pulls him close into his chest.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, and finds himself believing his own bullshit. “He’ll understand. He loves you, and he knows you love him.”

That’s how best friends should be, right? Lovers, too, of course – but it’s not that different. The line can get blurry, the more you love one another.

He tries to not think about Beomgyu again.

“I know he does,” Taehyun mumbles into the fabric of Soobin’s shirt, just letting his face rest against it. “What if he hates it? He’s picky about clothing.”

“Then he better be nice enough to pretend to love it.”

Finally, he gets a laugh out of Taehyun that sounds genuine. “Or you’ll do what?”

He presses his lips to the top of Taehyun’s head and hums as he thinks about it. “I will… stare very disapprovingly.”

And somehow, Taehyun laughs again. “Terrifying. Has that ever worked on anyone?”

“My sister’s cat.”

Taehyun pulls away and looks at him curiously, still smiling. “You have a sister?”

“Yeah, she’s like. Older. Married. Doesn’t live around here anymore.”

She never taught Soobin how to braid hair, although she did use him as a dress-up doll and put sparkly pins in his hair when he wasn’t yet old enough to be embarrassed about it. He wonders if she’d teach him if he asked. He wonders if Yeonjun would look pretty with his hair braided.

Taehyun squeezes his hand and tugs at his arm, pulling him along in whatever direction he decided they are going next. “I’m gonna need to see some pictures of that cat.”

Soobin smiles, involuntarily. He should call her sometime, one of these days.

Soobin tells Taehyun about the text from Kai, and they agree that Soobin will spend the night at his own place before they go see Yeonjun in the morning. They still get dinner together, arms full of takeout on their way back from the mall that they spread out on the floor of Taehyun’s dorm and eat with all the enthusiasm of eating a five-course meal at a Michelin restaurant. It’s easy, tonight, and Soobin decides he won’t think about it too hard. Bites are easy to eat when Taehyun laughs as he feeds them to him. It’s easy to swallow when he needs his mouth free for the kiss that’s being offered next. He doesn’t need to feel light when Taehyun leans against him, because he needs him to be solid instead.

When he’s unpacking their dessert, Taehyun looks at him and Soobin freezes, because there’s something in his eyes that scares him. It’s warm and it’s soft and it’s directed straight at him. It’s bright like a laugh, sharp in its focus. Soobin thinks about the fact that he barely remembered Taehyun after the first time they met, his mind too fucking focused on scrutinizing every single inch of Yeonjun instead.

He’s so fucking stupid, sometimes.

“Our first kiss tasted like cherry coke and rum.” As if they’re a couple, as if they have milestones that are worth remembering, like Soobin asking him to dance with him wasn’t a reckless, thoughtless, halfway petty decision.

But Taehyun just laughs again, like he can read between all the blurred lines. “And you tried to go straight for my dick, out in the open. I should have known you were into having sex in public.”

“Just when I’m with you,” he says and it sounds like a line but it’s the truth, and that’s really the funniest part. “I guess I just want to show you off that bad.”

Another laugh, open-mouthed and disbelieving, Taehyun’s eyes wide and dark where they meet Soobin’s. He faces them head-on. He doesn’t care if Taehyun figures it out; they can be honest about this, they’ve always been straightforward with each other.

“If you wanted me to suck your dick before dessert, you could have just asked.”

Soobin laughs it off; Taehyun settles in his lap and feeds him bites of cake until he feels like he couldn’t physically swallow another crumb, then holds his face gently while he presses close-mouthed kisses to his mouth. He’s so warm in Soobin’s arms, settles into them just right. His mouth feels made to fit against Soobin’s. He feels his entire body relaxing.

The nails of Kai’s pretty hands are painted a pastel shade of blue, and there are cute white rabbit stickers on his ring fingers. Soobin is on the couch with him again, holding his fingers in his palms as they face each other. Kai’s wearing an adorable fluffy white sweater and his hair that he’s been letting grow out falls around his face in gentle waves. He looks so pretty and soft that Soobin kind of wants to hug him and not let go for a few years. It sounds like just the vacation he needs, away from everything, in Kai’s warm arms, like being wrapped in angel wings.

“So.”

He smiles at his roommate, endeared even by the nervous, if excited tone of his voice. “So?”

“I think I’m ready. For the, uh…” Kai clears his throat, then squeezes Soobin’s hands a little. “The pronoun thing.”

Soobin blinks. It’s something they haven’t talked about much for almost a year. Kai said he needed a break, after her. After the shit she did to him, said to him. Needed to think, feel things out – Soobin has been doing his best to give him space while indulging whatever request he had, every now and then. Speaking a certain way, letting him do certain things. Not making it a big deal when he experimented with his appearance, clothes, the way he acted.

“Oh.” He squeezes back. “Which ones?”

“They/them. For now. I guess, I…” Kai giggles, helplessly, nervously. “They/them.”

“Okay.” Soobin feels his own face stretching out in a smile. It’s like a ray of hope, somehow, the way Kai often is to him. If they can work their way out from under the thumb of an abusive bitch, make progress, be happy with who they are, then maybe Soobin can get his stupid shit together too. Not all’s bad in the world – in fact, his roommate might be the one thing that’s right in it, unflinchingly, always. “I’m proud of you, Ningie.”

Kai lets out another giggle they clearly tried to suppress, and Soobin pulls them into a hug.

“This is stupid, right?” Their voice is a little thin where it comes from the depths of Soobin’s shoulder, and he squeezes a little tighter just to hear them squeak.

“You’re stupid.” It’s progress – and progress is always a big deal in a world that so often brings you two steps back after you take a step forward.

Kai laughs fully this time, incredulous. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

“What am I supposed to say, huh? Congrats on escaping the cishet label?”

The snort Kai lets out betrays them even as they pull back to glare at him. “You’re actually the worst.”

“I brought you cake.” Taehyun insisted on him taking the leftovers with him, just in case the news was bad news.

“You’re very close to being the worst,” Kai amends without missing a beat and Soobin lets out a full-body laugh, even though it’s way too late for them to be loud. He leans over and presses a kiss to Kai’s forehead, who pushes him away with an exasperated huff, that’s actually probably the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

“I love you too, Ningning.”

Kai rolls their eyes at him, but shares their celebratory pronoun-change cake, because they’re an actual angel – Soobin takes that to mean that they probably love him, too.

Yeonjun looks shocked to see them. Soobin’s not sure which one of them is more of a surprise, or if it’s the fact that they’re together that makes his face do absolutely slack when he opens the door for them. He’s in nothing but a shirt, again, but it’s long-sleeved this time, hanging over his knuckles, making his hands look that tiny bit more delicate, one resting on the door while the other comes up to cover his mouth.

“What are you…”

Taehyun takes a deep, bracing breath and he sounds much more confident than he is when he lifts one of the bags he’s holding and nods to the cup tray in Soobin’s hand. “Breakfast.”

Yeonjun’s eyes twitch nervously between the two of them, almost like he’s scared of them, but he steps back a little to let them inside. “You could have texted me ahead of time.”

“No,” Taehyun says without a second of hesitation and pushes his way inside. Yeonjun looks at Soobin, who shrugs and smiles. There’s something endearing about Taehyun’s commitment to not letting Yeonjun push him away.

“Good morning.”

Yeonjun blinks. “Yeah, hi.”

Soobin hands him his coffee from the tray, then heads inside, where Taehyun is already laying the food out on the only clear flat surface in the apartment. Soobin drops the tray off there too, and Taehyun shoots him a look that shows just how worried he is despite the nonchalance he’s trying to display. He puts on a smile again and rubs his back, knowing Yeonjun can see all of it.

“We need to start meeting somewhere that can actually fit all three of us,” Yeonjun notes, still standing by the door, something strange in his inflection.

Taehyun looks over at him and it’s like Soobin can see him filling up with confidence again when Yeonjun actually meets his eyes. “Let’s do Soobin’s, then. Next time.”

“You’re volunteering my apartment?”

“It can’t be my dorm,” Taehyun argues, like it’s a given that they’re gonna do this again. Like they’re an actual trio of friends.

“I have a roommate.”

“Who loves me,” Yeonjun says, tilting his head at Soobin cutely when he looks at him.

“You two hugged once,” Soobin points out and Taehyun raises his eyebrows.

“Kai adores me,” Yeonjun doubles down.

Taehyun laughs. “Who wouldn’t?”

Yeonjun freezes and Soobin turns around to pick up a pack of cookies and crack it open. In his peripheral vision, he sees Taehyun hold Yeonjun’s gaze fearlessly for a few long seconds before he turns around again, picking up a paper bag with a danish in it.

“We brought you something sweet, since you always drink your coffee in the grossest way possible.”

Soobin huffs into his cup of hot chocolate. Yeonjun blinks while he takes the bag from Taehyun’s hand, who gets a paper bag of his own and his cup of coffee before sitting down on the bed carelessly. It’s unmade again. The white bag with the gifts they bought yesterday sits innocently by the leg of the table.

Eventually, Yeonjun gets himself to move, sitting down on the chair by the table. Soobin considers sitting down next to Taehyun, but he somehow feels awkward about it, like he shouldn’t be picking sides, even though it’s clearly the only place to sit and he did come here to support Taehyun, anyway. He stands by the table instead, leaning on the wall, sipping his hot chocolate and nibbling on a single cookie.

Yeonjun’s eyes are still wary, still switching between the two of them, trying to figure them out. “Am I being picked up before a party or something?”

“No,” Taehyun replies, curt and straightforward again.

“Then why–”

“I wanted to eat breakfast with my best friend.”

Yeonjun blushes, just slightly, but Soobin is watching him intently enough to notice. “Why is Soobin here, then?”

Taehyun doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Do you want him gone?”

Yeonjun doesn’t answer and Taehyun continues to eat his butter croissant like nobody said a thing. Soobin looks down at his hot chocolate. Silence stretches, awkward and agonising.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?”

That makes Taehyun look up. “Yeah. Soobin took one for the team and let me top.”

Whatever way Soobin expects Yeonjun to react, it’s not by laughing shortly and asking, “Did you just fuck the whole day?”

“Nope,” this time it’s light, casual. Jovial. Not the no-nonsense Taehyun from just a few moments earlier. “We went out, too. Went to the mall and got dinner.”

Yeonjun nods, lips pouting prettily around the lip of his cup as he sips his coffee. “Nice.”

“We- I… actually…” Taehyun hesitates, and Soobin thinks that he can relate. This is also what this has been about, the I and we blurring until he can’t really distinguish between them anymore. “We got you something, while we were there.”

Something weird crosses Yeonjun’s face, and for a moment, Soobin is almost sure he’s going to reject it outright, but then he goes, “If it’s something kinky, I’m not having this conversation with the both of you.”

Taehyun’s laugh sounds almost as relieved as Soobin feels, and he almost asks. If he would have that conversation one-on-one, if he’d have it with both of them. What he was clearly imagining just now.

“It’s not,” Taehyun assures him, shrugging. “We just thought you’d like it.”

Yeonjun’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”

Taehyun nods at Soobin, who leans down to pick the bag up and offers it to Yeonjun, who takes it with furrowed brows and sits it on his own lap, peeking down into it. When Soobin glances at Taehyun, his fist is so tight around his cup it’s crumpling a little, and he briefly considers going over there to try and soothe his nerves.

He doesn’t get to, because before he can move, Yeonjun lets out a weird, whiny sound. His face is red when Soobin looks over, and his grip on the bag is white-knuckled now.

“I’m guessing this is not you telling me to go back to sleeping around and stop messing around with your boy toy,” his voice sounds choked up, but it’s shockingly steady given the strangled sound he just made.

“No,” Taehyun says, and it’s much softer than his resolute voice.

“I’m not his boy toy,” Soobin points out, kind of uselessly, but he feels the need to defend himself anyway. “If anything, he’s mine.”

Yeonjun looks at him and smiles, and he’s too shocked by that to look at Taehyun’s reaction. Then Yeonjun’s eyes shift to Taehyun, and they soften so much he suddenly looks on the verge of tears. He doesn’t say anything for the longest time while they wait with bated breath for him to react. Instead, he looks down into the bag, pulling a little black tube out.

“Lipstick?”

Taehyun nods. Yeonjun hums and uncaps it, inspecting it, sniffing at it.

“How did you pick the colour?”

“A shop assistant helped us out.”

A grin grows on Yeonjun’s mouth. “A shop assistant helped two guys pick out lipstick?”

“We said it was for our girlfriend,” Soobin explains, finishing his hot chocolate off and putting it down. He kind of feels like he could collapse at any moment, with the sudden release of tension in the room. He suddenly regrets not sitting down earlier.

“Our girlfriend?” Yeonjun sounds terribly amused by that for some reason.

“Soobin’s at the makeup place, mine at the clothing place,” Taehyun adds from where he finally seems to have relaxed enough to lean back, one hand keeping balance while he sips on his coffee. “All the ladies seemed really concerned by the idea of two guys picking out things for a girl, they were so eager to help out.”

It makes Yeonjun laugh, and his laugh is startlingly pretty in that moment, taking Soobin by surprise, and he’s just stuck looking at his face, all the things that are always faded about him lit up with the morning light and the force of Taehyun’s affection for him.

“If you hate them, we can return them,” Taehyun shrugs, carelessly, because it’s the thought that counts, not the actual gifts themselves.

“Fuck off, I wanna wear them forever,” Yeonjun retorts, putting the lipstick down on the table and pulling out the dress instead, powder pink and flowy. He gasps a little when it folds out and it becomes abundantly clear what it actually is, then holds it up to his chest. “I wanna wear it right now,” he corrects with the excitement of a six-year-old. “Can I?”

Soobin can see Taehyun fighting with himself to keep some sort of composure as he nods, face faltering as emotions fight to break out all over it. “It’s your place, wear whatever you want.”

Yeonjun jumps to his feet, then takes half a step towards them, like he was going to do something – hug them, kiss Taehyun, throw himself into his lap, whatever – but he falters a little, then grabs the lipstick instead and disappears into the walk-in closet.

Taehyun collapses onto the bed as soon as he’s gone, breathing hard like he has just done the most terrifying thing in his own life, and in some regard he probably has. Soobin walks over, takes his cup of coffee out of his hand so it doesn’t spill, then hovers over Taehyun, hands on either side of his head, looking down at him.

“He doesn’t seem triggered,” he whispers with a smile.

Taehyun seems on the verge of tears, eyes watery and sniffling. “Fuck.”

Soobin huffs out a laugh, then bends down to kiss him softly. “You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks for not letting me back out.”

Letting Taehyun kiss him back as a reward, Soobin shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Taehyun toys with the neckline of Soobin’s shirt. “I guess he hasn’t earned any disappointed glares, huh?”

He kisses him again with a quiet laugh. “Nah, he did well.”

Yeonjun takes ages to walk out of the closet again, but by the time he does, he looks like a completely different person. Soobin has dated enough girls to spot that he dabbed any flaws on his skin away with concealer, see the hint of glitter right under his eyebrow. The lipstick they picked him out fits, making his pretty mouth hard to look away from, and so does the dress. It’s cold shoulder, fabric layered around the neckline and down the chest in a way that’s meant to take attention away from flatter chests, and it works , a tie giving the illusion of a waist, skirt flowing beautifully down his long legs.

He’s pretty. He’s fucking pretty. Taehyun looks a little like he’s having a religious experience where he’s sitting next to Soobin.

“What do you think?” Yeonjun tilts his head in that same cute way, posing in front of them, and Soobin knows he’ll have to be the one who answers while Taehyun tries to get his brain to function again.

“I’d say baby girl,” he says lightly, jokingly, and Yeonjun takes that as the compliment it is, smiling coyly.

“Not a princess?”

“Maybe if Taehyun buys you a tiara next time.”

“I don’t think that would fit in a college student’s budget,” Taehyun chimes in, finally getting his voice to work, somehow fitting perfectly into the in-joke, like he was meant to fit all along.

“I can do baby girl,” Yeonjun shrugs, and then turns almost nervous eyes to Taehyun. “Do you like it?”

And Soobin admires the firmness of Taehyun’s voice when he replies, “You look really pretty.” He says it like a gravely serious fact, like he needs Yeonjun to internalise it, memorise it, burn it into his brain. Maybe he does.

The smile Yeonjun gives Taehyun in response is devastatingly pretty, too, blush spreading over his cheeks like he applied that, too. “Thanks, baby.”

He can precisely pinpoint the second Taehyun malfunctions again. It’s adorable. “I thought you were the baby.”

Yeonjun shrugs, walking towards them, then sitting down next to Taehyun, skirt swooshing. He crushes it under himself while sitting instead of smoothing it out, and Soobin almost points it out. Instead he says, “Would that make me the dad?”

They both give him absolutely disgusted looks, but it’s worth it.

Yeonjun takes one of Taehyun’s hands, pulling it into his lap. “Thank you, Taehyun,” he says quietly, privately, and Soobin feels like he’s intruding. “For all of this.”

There’s a lot of things Taehyun probably should be saying – probably wants to say. Starting with ‘I love you’ and ending with ‘don’t just shut me out again’. What he ends up saying is: “I want to help you.”

Something on Yeonjun’s face stutters, but he fights to keep a smile on his face. “I’m not sick, Tyun.”

“But you’re hurting. And you don’t have to.”

With a frown that’s full of pity, Yeonjun lifts a hand up to pinch Taehyun’s cheek, like he’s a little kid. “That’s just what happens to people like me.”

“Bullshit.” Both of their heads snap in Soobin’s direction, like they forgot he was even there. “You don’t have to just deal with this shit. There’s therapy. Surgery. Hormones. Maybe it’s never not gonna be rough, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be better.”

Yeonjun lets go of Taehyun’s cheek, and his hands ball into fists. “Soobin, you don’t know jack shit about me. About this. Shut up.”

“I know you like getting to feel like you have tits, and I know you can’t handle someone else’s hands touching your dick and you won’t fuck a gay guy because it doesn’t feel right . I know you’d rather have me use you to get back at my best friend than explain to a guy who actually loves you what you need from him.”

“Soobin, shut up.” It’s Taehyun; not Yeonjun. His hand is gripping Soobin’s thigh in a vice grip and his voice is stern and angry.

“I thought you liked my ‘cute little tits’,” Yeonjun snaps, sarcastic and biting.

“I do. But you don’t. I’d think you are just as fuckable if you got top surgery, and I think you know that. I think Taehyun would, too, and you’re just doing him a disservice by not letting him prove that.”

“Leave me out of this,” Taehyun hisses, but Soobin shakes his head.

“No,” he mirrors Taehyun’s tone from earlier – blunt, relentless. “You’re part of this. Yeonjun wants you to want… Yeonjun,” his eyes dig into Yeonjun’s, who almost looks a little scared all of a sudden. “Doesn’t want things to change, right?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yeonjun accuses, but not with anything louder than a whisper.

“I do – I’ve seen it happen. and I’ve seen it get better. When you talk to the people you care about. Cut out the ones who don’t get it, because some never will. When you stop being scared of everything, is when it can start to get better.”

“What if Taehyun doesn’t get it?” It’s barely even audible.

“I want to get it.” Taehyun sounds agitated, almost pissed off but like he’s holding it back with all his might, for Yeonjun’s sake. “I’m trying to get it. I’ve been wanting to understand since before we even fucking met Soobin. Just let me. Please let me. Just let me see you.”

Yeonjun stares at Taehyun’s earnest face, and then hesitates. And then keeps hesitating. His hands are shaking in his lap, even after Taehyun’s curls over one of them.

“Yeonjun.” Taehyun glares at Soobin when he speaks up, but he ignores it. “Maybe you should meet my friend.”

That makes Yeonjun blink, and his hands steady a little before he answers. “The one… that helped you figure me out?”

“Yeah. They’re… feeling a bit more like themself these days. I think… they’d be open to it. They could help.”

Taehyun’s sharp eyes thaw. The hand crushing Soobin’s thigh relents, too. Yeonjun swallows.

“If they wouldn’t mind… I don’t know if that…”

“Just give it a try,” Taehyun jumps in, squeezing Yeonjun’s hand in his. “It’s worth a shot.”

Yeonjun’s eyes water when they turn to him. “Tyun, I’m so sorry.”

To Soobin’s surprise, he pushes his way into Taehyun’s arms, and it’s an unfamiliar sight, Taehyun laying back as Yeonjun tucks himself into his embrace – it’s new to Soobin, but it doesn’t feel like it’s an unfamiliar position for them. They look comfortable like that, as cosy as a guy comforting his crying friend can look.

“Fuck that, I just want to see you get better.”

Yeonjun laughs into Taehyun’s chest, stuttering and wet. “You’re so nice.”

And Soobin laughs too, even if it leaves Taehyun a little confused while he runs his fingers through Yeonjun’s long hair. He doesn’t question it, though, because he probably knows it’s true.

Soobin loses track of time while they lay on Yeonjun’s bed in that tiny apartment, Yeonjun in Taehyun’s arms, Soobin laid out next to them, not touching either of them, but also not leaving. They’re on the bed the wrong way and they all have their legs dangling off the edge, but nobody moves to get more comfortable. There’s lipstick and concealer stains on Taehyun’s shirt but he doesn’t try to do anything about it, even though Soobin sees him inspect them at some point.

“Would you ever let me see?” He asks after just about an eternity has passed, and Soobin and Yeonjun both lift up to look at him.

“See what?” Yeonjun’s face is a mess, but he looks cute when he furrows his brow in confusion, anyway.

“What it’s like when you’re with Soobin.”

Soobin’s eyebrows shoot up. “We mostly just have sex.”

Taehyun looks at him, eyes piercing but not hostile – searching. Yeonjun looks like he disagrees, but Soobin chooses not to examine that too closely.

“Something about it works, though. You do it right. I want to see what doing it right is like.”

“We only do it when Yeonjun is upset, I don’t think–”

“That’s not true,” Yeonjun cuts in, not accusatory but firm. “We hooked up at the party. I wasn’t upset, I just wanted you.”

It makes Soobin pause – he supposes, with everything that happened after that, he never really examined it. But it was true. At that party, he let Yeonjun drag him to the bathroom just because Yeonjun wanted to, just because he wanted to. Not because Yeonjun needed him, not because Soobin wanted him to hurt, not because of Beomgyu, or because of Taehyun, just because Yeonjun was hot, willing. Because he told him before that he wanted Soobin even if he wasn’t miserable – and Soobin… was staring at his mouth from the very first day, imagining kissing all the tastes of the day off of him.

“… do you want Taehyun to watch us have sex?”

Yeonjun sighs. “It’s not just about the sex.”

This time, Soobin can’t just pretend he didn’t hear it. “It’s not?”

“It’s everything around it, too.”

And Soobin genuinely has no idea what Yeonjun is talking about – it must be something inherent, something he does without thinking? Or it’s just about the meagre amount of cuddling, the half-ruthless half-light-hearted banter. Could be. Who knows what Yeonjun really thinks is healing about Soobin making him cry into the pillow when his mind is dragging him down a bottomless pit.

“Sure,” he says without any confidence behind that word. “And you want Taehyun to see it?”

To his surprise, Yeonjun looks straight at Taehyun – no shame, no bashful averting of eyes. Meets Taehyun’s waiting eyes head-on, right from up close. “If Taehyun wants to see it.”

Taehyun nods firmly, and Soobin kind of expects them to kiss, but they never do. It makes something in his own chest twist uncomfortably.

“He can watch. But not when you’re actually going through an episode.”

They both look at him and nod. Soobin’s skin itches; this is weird. This should be weird. This shouldn’t be making so much goddamn sense. He should be making Yeonjun explain everything to Taehyun, in private, one-on-one; should be encouraging them to support each other. To stop leaning on him. He shouldn’t be encouraging them to use him as a crutch. He should be extricating himself from all this, not tangling himself in it further.

Instead, he leans in and kisses Taehyun on the mouth, close-mouthed and chaste, then kisses Yeonjun who shudders against him. He knows Taehyun can feel it. Wishes he could just push them towards each other and make them make that step, but they need to be ready.

Step by step.

The apartment smells like vanilla cupcakes. Kai is wearing a pair of pink arm warmers and a plain white T-shirt, their nails still blue and bunny-decorated. Soobin watches them wring their hands together nervously, and wishes he could just fix that, just hold their hand or put his hand on their shoulder and drain all of the anxiety from them and into his own body, carry it for them, that and every other burden.

Yeonjun is in a pink crop top Soobin has never seen him wear before, a single thin braid tucked behind his ear in his mess of long dark hair, and he’s visibly crushing Taehyun’s hand in his, shoulders tense.

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Kai laughs, waves awkwardly. They’re on opposite sides of the kitchen – Kai by the counter, where the cupcakes are laid out, Yeonjun by the door, right by the dining table. “I’m non-binary.”

“Huh,” Yeonjun goes, a little dumbly, and Kai laughs again for the lack of anything to say. “Um. Congrats?”

Kai shrugs. “I’ve known that part for a while. I just don’t really talk about it – doesn’t usually feel all that relevant. But, um. The pronouns are new, so. Hi.”

“Has it… felt good? Changing them?” It’s Taehyun who asks, careful and deliberate in the way he speaks. Soobin appreciates it – he doesn’t think he could forgive anyone for upsetting Kai.

“Um, yeah!” Kai smiles a little. “It’s… different. A good different. I didn’t really think it would make that much of a difference, but. It feels… like a good step. Towards me. You know what I mean?”

Yeonjun nods his head maybe a bit too enthusiastically, brushing a hand over his bare stomach. He’s wearing concealer again, caked under his eyes a little where he tried to hide the dark circles. Soobin doesn’t think he has seen him with makeup before the day they brought him the dress. He wonders if that’s a good step, too.

“Oh, by the way!” Kai fills the awkward silence that filled the kitchen again. “You can call me Ning, sometimes, I … it’s cute. I like cute. I like… I like feeling cute.” They’re blushing, just a little bit.

“You are cute,” Soobin points out from where he’s standing by the fridge.

“Shut the fuck up, Soobin.”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both laugh while he pouts at Kai in the most betrayed way he can manage.

“You’re pretty cute,” Yeonjun agrees once he’s done laughing, and Kai hides their face in the arm warmers.

“Forget I said anything.”

“Never,” Yeonjun quips, then walks forward, letting go of Taehyun’s hand. Taehyun seems more agitated by the loss of contact than Yeonjun does. “So, did Soobin tell you?”

Dropping their arms, Kai blinks at Yeonjun. “He told me you’re a little like me?”

Hesitantly, Yeonjun nods, coming to a stop at an arm’s length from Kai. “A little.”

“Pronouns?” Yeonjun just swallows nervously. “Not yet? We can do no pronouns?”

“No pronouns sounds good.” Choked up, but audible.

Kai smiles warmly, encouragingly. “Alright. Want me to do your nails? I can do really cute nails.”

“They really can,” Soobin chimes in enthusiastically, because he thinks his roommate is pretty talented, or maybe just because he likes hyping Kai up. It earns him a smile from them, whether it’s for the praise, playing along, or whatever other reason.

Yeonjun tries for a smile, too, a bit smaller and tentative. “Sure. I like cute, too.”

Kai blushes, but nods, reaching out for Yeonjun’s hand with one hand and for the cupcake tray with the other. “Then let’s go. We’ll do them in my room.”

Soobin blinks, watching them leaving the room in a flurry like there’s not two other people in the room with them. “What about us?”

“Sorry, Soobin – ladies only. You guys will find something to do.” They wink at him as they pull Yeonjun out of the room, and Soobin wants to be annoyed, but he just laughs. It’s so insane. Things are moving so fast and so slow and…

Taehyun walks up to him as soon as they leave, holding his arms out, and Soobin leans down to give him a hug. It’s long and tight and it feels a little like Taehyun is screaming into his ear with anxiety even though he’s completely silent.

Soobin kisses the side of his head and his breath rushes out of him.

“I’m so scared,” he whispers.

“Kai’s got Yeonjun. They’ll be okay,” Soobin assures him, rubbing the heel of his palm up and down his back.

“I trust them,” Taehyun nods against Soobin’s shoulder, then pulls back. “I’m just. It’s so much.”

“I know – it feels like that to me, too.”

Taehyun seems genuinely relieved to hear that, and Soobin reaches out to push his hair out of his face gently. “Kai seems to be doing really well.”

“It took a long time to get where they are.”

A little warm smile finds its way onto Taehyun’s face, and he intertwines his fingers with Soobin’s. “Must have been easier with you by their side.”

“Kai did all the hard work.”

“Shut up when I’m trying to compliment you.”

“I just don’t think–”

“We wouldn’t be even this far without you. We barely made any progress in years. Just fucking take the compliment, Soobin.”

Soobin laughs breathlessly. “You’re welcome for yelling at your best friend for you.”

Taehyun huffs, resigned, and buries his face in Soobin’s chest. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and lets him rest.

Yeonjun’s nails are pink with a glittery top-coat over them. Yeonjun shows them off to Soobin by kneeling in front of him where he’s sitting on the couch, hands spread across Soobin’s thighs and asking, “Princess or baby girl?”

Soobin clicks his tongue, pushes past everything weird about the situation, past Taehyun still wrapped around his arm and says, “Baby girl. Still not expensive enough for a princess.”

And Yeonjun looks at Kai and pouts. “I told you we should have gone for the fake jewels.”

“This is much cuter,” Kai says wisely and sits down cross-legged on the armchair with a cupcake in their hand.

Yeonjun turns the pout towards Taehyun, who says, “I think they’re princess enough”, because he’s in love with his best friend, and Yeonjun smiles at him bright like sunshine, because Yeonjun is in love with Taehyun, too.

They decide to watch a movie because none of them wants to move, and Yeonjun spends it tucked between Taehyun’s knees, head leaning on one of them, looking the most content Soobin might have ever seen Yeonjun look.

It’s a good look on Yeonjun. Bright.

“They like each other, don’t they?”

Soobin pauses where he was just about to enter his room. Yeonjun and Taehyun left about twenty minutes ago, and they just finished cleaning up. Kai looks calm and earnest where they’re watching Soobin from the other side of the living room.

“Yeah,” he replies, because there’s no point in hiding it. “A guy in love with his best friend, never heard that one before, have we?”

Kai gives him a concerned, sympathetic look. Soobin chooses to ignore it and disappears into his room instead. About half an hour later, they come in while Soobin is working on his homework and sit on top of his desk, pulling his hands into their lap one by one and decorating his nails with cute little bunny stickers. They press little cartoon carrots to each of his thumbs last, then bring his hands up to kiss the back of his hands.

“Take care of yourself, Soobin,” they say, like they always do.

“I don’t know what that means right now,” he says in response, because it’s the truth.

Kai sighs. “Eat one cupcake for me?”

He pauses, surprised. “You still have some?”

“I saved one for you.”

Soobin’s heart aches more than his stomach. “Alright. Bring it in.”

Kai kisses his forehead before skipping out the door. Soobin kind of wishes it had always been just Kai for him. He imagines being in love with Kai would be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, having them love him back the greatest form of happiness.

Somehow he’s nabbed the best roommate in the world, and he still can’t be satisfied with just that. It’s selfish of him, really. Greedy.

It’ll come back to bite him in the ass one day, just like every single time before this.

Yeonjun and Kai text now. Sometimes Soobin looks over in mild curiosity when Kai giggles as they’re hanging out, and there’s Jjunie~ on top of the chat log on-screen, and it keeps happening more and more often. Soobin and Taehyun continue going out; for coffee or for lunch, swapping stories from their daily lives and cat pictures. Yeonjun sometimes texts Soobin pictures of outfits and makes him rank them on his girlfriend to princess scale. They’re getting more and more feminine, and Yeonjun’s poses are getting more and more confident, just like the texts that come with them. Soobin still can’t figure out if they’re friends now, but sometimes they just hang out, now mostly at Soobin’s, with or without Kai but always with Taehyun. They know how to speak to each other now, Soobin can see Yeonjun for a person now instead of the symbol of everything going wrong in his life.

He hasn’t had sex with either of them for weeks. Yeonjun hasn’t had a relapse yet, despite the constant push for progress, and Taehyun just never asks anymore, so Soobin doesn’t, either. They haven’t been to a party since the one Soobin carried Taehyun out of on his back. Nobody brings up the agreement to let Taehyun see Yeonjun and Soobin have sex, and it almost slips out of his mind completely.

Then Yeonjun texts him, would you fuck me in front of Taehyun if I was wearing this? and sends him a picture – it’s clearly Yeonjun and not just some thirst trap pulled off the internet, white lace of a bralette stretched over familiar smooth skin, just the top of a matching set of bottoms visible. Pretty. Enticing. Very bride on her wedding night, which Soobin finds hilarious in the privacy of his mind.

You want me to fuck you in lingerie? he texts back.

I wanna wear something pretty, Yeonjun replies. Not like last time.

Last time was an oversized shirt and a pair of non-descript black briefs, and Soobin wonders if he should reply that he found Yeonjun just as attractive dressed down as dressed up, or something cheesy like that.

Instead he answers with, it’s pretty. you’re pretty.

And it takes Yeonjun a satisfyingly long time to respond: it comes with a garter belt.

It makes him laugh, but then Yeonjun sends him pictures of that squeezing around his thigh and he chokes on the laugh immediately.

you should go without it. be good to taehyun, he’s been waiting for you for a long time. It’s the truth, and he doesn’t know how he himself feels about it yet.

so you like it? Yeonjun asks instead of reacting to that after another long pause.

And Soobin thinks, fuck it. do I have your permission to jerk off to it tonight?

This time Yeonjun replies almost immediately. You’re gross. And then, a few seconds later, go for it.

Taehyun gets to Soobin's place first, and he can't shake the feeling that there's something weirdly symbolic about it. The apartment is weirdly quiet without Kai there, and even once they move to Soobin's bedroom, where they're used to being together alone, the air between them stays still and awkward, swollen and tense with anticipation. Soobin sits on his bed with his hands between his knees and Taehyun swings slowly side to side in his gaming chair. He doesn't smoke a lot as far as Soobin knows, but there's the distinct smell of cigarettes clinging to his clothes today and his hands keep clenching and unclenching, betraying how nervous he is even though he doesn't say anything.

When Soobin gets off the bed and gets on his knees in front of him, he doesn't say anything, either, just reaches out to pull Soobin into a brief gentle kiss before he lets him start undoing his belt.

He has the tip of Taehyun’s dick tapping the back of his throat and a fresh set of scratch marks on the back of his shoulder when the doorbell rings, and Taehyun laughs while Soobin pulls away, bright and genuine and absolutely incredulous at the timing. Soobin can't help but look at him fondly while wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“Should I finish up here?”

Taehyun buries his face in his palms but laughs again into them. “Just get the door.”

Soobin grins a little as he stands up. “You can do the rest yourself?”

He dodges the swat Taehyun aims at his thigh. “Go.”

This time he obeys, making his way out his room and to the front door. He opens it to Yeonjun standing there with head bowed, staring at the tips of the boots Yeonjun has on. The rest of the outfit is hidden by a thick brown coat, and Soobin finds himself almost pleasantly anticipating getting to see it. Yeonjun’s hair is so long now, bangs short enough to frame the face but long enough in the back to get pulled into a ponytail if Yeonjun wanted to. It’s loose now, helping hide Yeonjun’s face from view.

“Hi there.”

Yeonjun looks up - Soobin immediately recognizes the lipstick he and Taehyun bought, registers the makeup, the hint of eyeliner, the sparkle of highlighter sitting on top of Yeonjun’s cheekbones. There’s a pearl white velvet choker on Yeonjun’s throat, and it sits just right to take the attention off the Adam’s apple hiding under it, pretty but strategic. Soobin’s kind of impressed already. Yeonjun probably put a lot of thought into this. For Taehyun’s sake.

“You better not cry on me with all that on today,” he snarks, gesturing vaguely at the makeup. “I actually like this hoodie.”

Soobin didn’t really bother dressing up. Today really wasn’t about him at all.

It actually makes Yeonjun snort out a laugh. “I’ll try not to.”

He opens the door wider, and Yeonjun gives him a kiss before coming inside properly, like that’s just something they do these days. Taehyun didn’t kiss Soobin when he came in, and now Soobin feels weirdly off-balance.

“Is he here already?” Yeonjun asks while getting the boots off.

Soobin closes the door with a shrug. “He got here early.”

“That’s very Taehyun of him.”

Yeonjun grins at him while Soobin snorts, and once Yeonjun’s back upright, they both hesitate, just looking at each other.

“Your mouth is a little-”

“He was nervous.”

That makes Yeonjun laugh again, but it’s tense; breathless. “That makes two of us.”

“He’s already made his decision on whether he wants you or not, you know. That’s why he’s here in the first place. This isn’t about that.”

Yeonjun’s pretty lips press together, fingers fidgeting with the buttons of the coat. “I’m just… it’s different when it’s him.”

“You’re pretty when he’s around, too.”

Yeonjun breathes out, then flicks the buttons open, pulling the coat open just enough to give Soobin a glimpse of the outfit. A simple mock turtleneck, but it’s tucked into what definitely is a pleated black skirt, one short enough to leave miles of leg on display. “Pretty enough?” Soobin can see Yeonjun trying to smile, so he struggles to keep his tone light.

“I thought I told you to be nice to him,” he points out and Yeonjun’s smile gets that slightest bit less forced.

“I’m not wearing the garter.”

Soobin groans. He imagines it, immediately, involuntarily, the grip of it on Yeonjun’s smooth thigh, getting to pull on it to tug Yeonjun’s legs where he needs them; wants them. “Be nice to me then.”

“You want me to be good today?” It’s teasing and thin at the same time; flirty but tentative.

He makes sure he sounds firm - firmer than he feels, because he needs to be both of their rock this time. This is a big deal to everyone but him; it’s not that different from Yeonjun needing him alone, but this is the first time it doesn’t feel rough, the first time he doesn’t feel like he’s taking things he shouldn’t, the first time it doesn’t feel like a conquest or mutual desperation. It’s Yeonjun and Taehyun putting their trust in his hands, and him promising to handle it delicately.

“Yeah. Be good for us.”

Yeonjun blushes and pulls the coat close again, arms crossing, shivering a little. “Okay.”

Soobin reaches out a hand and Yeonjun takes it and keeps the other on the coat, holding it tightly closed as they walk over to Soobin’s bedroom door. He knocks before entering and Yeonjun giggles behind him.

“Is your dick put away?” He asks through the door.

“Does it matter?” Taehyun calls from behind it.

Yeonjun keeps laughing, forehead pressed into Soobin’s shoulder. He wonders if there’s going to be a makeup stain on his hoodie later, but pushes the thought away as he opens the door to Taehyun sitting fully dressed in the same seat Soobin left him in. There’s a grin on Taehyun’s face and Soobin is just glad to see him so relaxed.

“I can’t believe everyone in this room has seen your dick.”

Taehyun squints at him. “Everyone’s seen yours, too.”

“Yeah, but Soobin’s easy,” Yeonjun quips with a smile just as wide.

And then Taehyun’s eyes are glued to his best friend, looking transfixed even though the coat is still hiding most of Yeonjun’s body away. His gaze sweeps over the lipstick, the highlighter, the choker, Yeonjun’s hand and Yeonjun’s bare ankles. Skinny and soft and gorgeous - Soobin wonders if Taehyun is thinking it, too.

“We’re all easy,” he points out, although he thinks the other two barely hear him.

Taehyun shifts in his seat. Yeonjun swallows.

“Can I give you a hug? Or would that be weird?”

Taehyun shrugs, then opens his arms. “It’s weird, but I want you to.”

Soobin watches Yeonjun falling into Taehyun’s embrace, trying to mould into it, curl up in his arms, fit just as delicately as Yeonjun’s appearance says it should be. It’s a little awkward, but Taehyun holds on way too tight for just a hello hug and so does Yeonjun, and Soobin gets the feeling that they’ve made it work anyway.

When they part, one of Yeonjun’s hands lingers in Taehyun. “So we… pretend you’re not here?”

“Kind of,” Taehyun shrugs one shoulder awkwardly. “If you can. I want to know how you are when you’re alone - or as close to it as you can.”

Yeonjun nods and swallows again.

Taehyun squeezes the hand he’s holding. “Go get your pretty boy dick.”

Soobin snorts, but Yeonjun smiles and it seems easy enough when they let go of each other’s hands and Yeonjun turns to Soobin.

“How do we do this?”

He’s really expected to lead this time, isn’t he; it’s not like it’s not in him at all, it’s just… heavy with responsibility. Slowly, he walks over to the bed and sits down on it and before he can even give a single instruction, Yeonjun is coming over, ready to plop down onto his lap as if on instinct before he grabs a single thin wrist to stop it from happening.

“You dressed up, right?” He keeps his voice quiet, but loud enough for Taehyun to hear as well. Yeonjun nods, tight and anxious. “Then get the coat off, I can’t appreciate the outfit if you’re hiding most of it from me.”

Yeonjun’s eyes flicker side to side nervously, and Soobin can see the struggle not to let them land on Taehyun, who’s watching them intently. He squeezes Yeonjun’s wrist.

“Can you handle it?”

The hand clutching the coat in a vice grip loosens, lets it fall open just enough for only Soobin to see the clothes underneath. “It’s pretty?”

Before answering, he reaches out, hands on the outsides of Yeonjun’s bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. “You’re pretty.”

He sees Yeonjun breathe in heavily but steadily, so he reaches up and pulls the coat open wider, keeping eye contact, movements slow enough for Yeonjun to be able to stop him if necessary. It doesn’t happen, though - Yeonjun seems to find some peace in whatever there is to find in Soobin’s eyes, and the coat drops off of Yeonjun’s shoulders and they let it pool on the floor. Soobin bends over to pick it up and throws it to the foot of the bed, so Yeonjun doesn’t have to do it while wearing the skirt.

They both try not to look at Taehyun, although Soobin feels like he knows what his reaction was like. He finds Yeonjun’s eyes again and tugs on both wrists this time.

“Cute. It’ll be a shame to take it off of you.”

Yeonjun visibly takes a deep breath before coming forward to actually settle in Soobin’s lap this time. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t.”

Somehow they both go in for a kiss at the same time, and Yeonjun actually smiles into it. Soobin can’t help but think it’s a little strange, showering Yeonjun with praise like this. He means it, and there’s nothing in his chest pulling the mean parts of his mind to the surface. When he mumbles something about Yeonjun being slutty because the skirt is so short as his hands find their way under the fabric to enjoy the softness he adores, it’s light-hearted, just to feel Yeonjun shiver.

“It drives the boys crazy,” Yeonjun breathes out unsteadily across Soobin’s mouth and he huffs in amusement.

He used to feel numb when doing this; it used to feel empty, gaping with dark satisfaction that meant less than getting nothing at all. Now it feels a little bit like what having Taehyun against him used to feel like. It’s fun; it’s warm. Sets his mind adrift in a way he can actually enjoy.

“Does it? I feel pretty sane.”

“You still want to finger me under it.”

They both know Yeonjun’s tone is more confident than Yeonjun actually is, and maybe that line is more for Taehyun’s benefit than either of theirs, because it’s just sex but it’s also a show, but they’re both willing to look past it. It’s not about being the most honest; Yeonjun is being vulnerable enough already as it is. They can afford just a little bit of showmanship, just a bit of it.

“Maybe.”

Instead he slides his hands under Yeonjun’s shirt, because that’s what Yeonjun likes the most and Soobin’s nothing if not willing to provide. He runs his fingers over the lace, and it’s softer than he expected, softer than the bralette Yeonjun wore to his place that first time. His thumbs trace the underside, then brush over Yeonjun’s nipples, making Yeonjun let out a high-pitched sound and bite his chin.

“Off?” It’s barely audible, but Yeonjun pulls away and nods, arms lifting obediently as Soobin pulls it off and tosses it away, too. Yeonjun dives into him right afterwards, pushing their chests together, and he realises it’s to hide away. Not looking at Taehyun immediately is hell on his self-control, but he closes his eyes to avoid the temptation, hands seeking out the soft warmth of Yeonjun’s sides, right where the skirt ends and working upwards while rubbing his thumbs over the skin soothingly, until he reaches the bottom edge of the lace again. He tucks the tips of his fingers under it and teases the skin there, and Yeonjun shivers again.

Soobin leans into Yeonjun’s ear, brushes the hair off of it to be able to speak into it directly. “You’re doing great. Looking especially baby girl right now.”

He squeezes at Yeonjun’s chest just as Yeonjun is laughing in response, and Soobin can feel Yeonjun relaxing even as a moan cuts through the quiet room. It finally gets Yeonjun’s head to lift again, and then Soobin’s bottom lip is getting bitten for his trouble.

“You’re so smug,” Yeonjun hisses and Soobin smiles.

“Is it turning you on?”

The aggressive kiss he gets in response tastes like a yes, under the tang of chocolate and cigarettes. Yeonjun and Taehyun taste the same today, and Soobin kind of wants to laugh. As if Yeonjun can hear his thoughts, Soobin feels another shudder. It goes without explanation all the way until Yeonjun almost frantically wrenches Soobin’s hoodie off, then presses them together again to breathe into his ear, too low for Taehyun to hear.

“Is that what he tastes like?”

Soobin feels stupid for not realizing; he had Taehyun in his mouth not even fifteen minutes ago. Yeonjun could tell, still has to be able to tell. He doesn’t know what to reply, so he doesn’t, lets Yeonjun mouth and bite at his neck and shoulders instead, hands sneaking down into his sweatpants to get him riled up enough to do what he’s here to do. It locks his brain in a loop, smooth skin and lace under his hands, the warmth of Yeonjun’s body, Yeonjun’s hands on him in return, hot lips and tongue, teeth dragging across his skin, and then the memory of Taehyun, the scratch marks stinging on his shoulders where Yeonjun’s tongue drags over them, the phantom sensation of a weight on his tongue, friction making his lips tingle, his throat closing as he reaches the limit of his gag reflex.

They hold him between them, and his mind struggles not to shut down from the overload.

His eyes find Taehyun; he can’t help it. He’s sitting on the chair with his hands clasped together and crushed between his thighs, eyes locked onto Yeonjun’s mouth sealing over the remnants of his own touch on Soobin’s body. They all know, and it just adds to the static running all over Soobin’s body. Taehyun squirms and lets out the tiniest noise, Yeonjun’s hips twitch in Soobin’s lap in response, and Soobin pushes up into Yeonjun’s touch.

He’ll lose it if this goes on much longer, and the realisation is a cold shower all over his heated skin - his hands drop from Yeonjun’s sides to pinch at the insides of Yeonjun’s thighs, and he smiles at the gasp he gets along with the wet sound of Yeonjun’s lips detaching from his skin.

“Get on the bed.”

And to his surprise, it earns him a shiver. “On my back or on my front?”

That’s not really what Yeonjun is asking, and Soobin can tell. He bites his lips. Is Yeonjun too nervous? Are there more fantasies for Soobin to fulfil? He can hardly get himself to think straight, and that’s not good with the amount of power they’re letting him have.

“What do you want?”

“I want to be on my back while you finger me under the skirt.”

Soobin’s mouth dries at the request, and Yeonjun seems almost self-satisfied while bringing a clean hand up to knead at his ear. It makes Soobin want to do awful things.

Instead he wraps both arms around Yeonjun, toppling then down onto the sheets, and Yeonjun rolls off and crawls to the requested position, probably flashing both Soobin and Taehyun in the process but Soobin is too busy pushing his sweatpants down his legs to care, sinking between Yeonjun’s legs, allowing Yeonjun to pull the skirt down to cover whatever needs to be out of view as his own hands push their way under the lace. As his fingertips brush their target, Yeonjun lets out a high-pitched squeak he’s pretty sure he has never heard before.

It startles him, and allows Yeonjun to reach down and push his hand away again while he stares with wide eyes. Did he fuck up? Did he-

“I’m not taking those dry.”

Oh. He hears Taehyun huff out a breath like he has been holding it for ages now, and he’s sure Yeonjun hasn’t missed it, either.

“I was getting there.”

Yeonjun shoots him a look . “You were not.”

He clicks his tongue, but reaches for the nightstand for the bottle of lube, anyway. This time, he’s got everything laid out, he even has makeup wipes on his desk just in case Yeonjun came dolled up and needed to be cleaned up after everything.

Which Yeonjun is going to need, because the lipstick is absolutely everywhere, not only all around Yeonjun’s mouth and chin, but Soobin can feel it clinging to his own skin too, knows he probably has glitter on his own cheeks by now. He’s never been a big fan of having sex with his girlfriends while the makeup was on - but there’s a lot of little things he’s been willing to tolerate for Yeonjun, and this is honestly the least of them.

Yeonjun doesn’t call him out on it, just sighs happily when his fingers come back slicked up, runs thin fingers through his hair when he bends down to mouth at the little bow under Yeonjun’s sternum as he pushes inside. It’s easy, with their combined experience, both by themselves and with each other, and Soobin gets the feeling that Yeonjun wants this more than needs this, but he honestly doesn’t care when his ears fill with Yeonjun’s sounds, quiet babbling that’s somewhere between happy and desperate, his name and little praises and mindless begging for nothing in particular.

His mouth latches onto Yeonjun’s chest the whole time, licking, biting, nuzzling, sometimes dipping down to Yeonjun’s stomach to suck on that soft skin. Yeonjun’s free hand is in his hair, alternating between gripping, pulling and smoothing it down. It’s a wet, loud mess and Soobin doesn’t mind at all, feels like he could do this the whole day if he could. Pleasuring Yeonjun is weirdly satisfying; for someone who explicitly asked to be used before, Soobin thinks there’s something so right about giving his all to extract as many noises as he can, to see how many times he can hear his name before the voice saying it goes hoarse. Maybe that’s just something about him - maybe it’s just the two of them not being compatible - but he gets the feeling that Yeonjun likes this just as much as he does.

Then Yeonjun’s going, “stop, stop, stop” in a thin, squeaky voice, grabbing Soobin’s face to push it away, and he almost panics and he pushes up until there’s no spot where they’re touching - Taehyun is halfway out of the chair in his peripheral vision. There are tears brimming in Yeonjun’s eyes, breath stuttering and uneven. Soobin studies Yeonjun’s face, but then Yeonjun’s own hands hide it from view.

Everything is terribly still.

“Everything okay?” Soobin should sound firm and calm but he just sounds scared to himself.

“Yeonjun?” Not even Taehyun can stay quiet.

Yeonjun’s shoulders shake and thighs twitch where they’re still spread around Soobin’s body.

“Did I do something wrong?”

To his shock and relief, Yeonjun’s head shakes in a negative, chest heaving with another deep breath, then another. “This is fucking embarrassing.”

Soobin is not sure what to do, but he lowers himself again, propped up on his hands above Yeonjun whose face is still covered. “What?”

It seems to help, because the hands part just enough to let him see Yeonjun’s face covered in a crimson blush. “I don’t want Taehyun to hear.”

“Should I leave?” Yeonjun spoke quietly, but he heard it, anyway.

Yeonjun’s eyes shut tightly, looking a little pained. “Just cover your ears, baby?”

Soobin looks over to watch him follow the instruction, then nods at Yeonjun, who decides to whisper anyway, maybe just too embarrassed to actually say it out loud.

“I almost came. I don’t want him to see me come, not like this - not when he can see everything.”

He’s sure his pupils widen in arousal, because Yeonjun laughs at him breathlessly, hands coming up and wrapping around his neck.

“I think I’m good now. But I needed a break.”

Soobin nods, then they both nod Taehyun’s way who takes his hands off his own ears, looking much less worried after seeing them talk about whatever happened so calmly. He thinks they’ll just move on, but to his surprise, Yeonjun actually speaks up to explain.

“Just a really weird trigger. Really embarrassing. I’ll tell you later.”

They exchange smiles, Yeonjun’s reassuring and Taehyun’s awkward, but slowly relaxing. Looking at them makes Soobin feel warm - they care about each other, genuinely. Soobin almost feels bad it’s him who Yeonjun’s smile turns to next, that he’s the one who Yeonjun kisses, who gets to taste the chocolate and lipstick off Yeonjun’s tongue.

He flips Yeonjun over before he can think about it, presses his hips against Yeonjun’s ass, lets the pressure, the rush of it, erase all the doubt swirling with the warmth, trying to taint it.

“Skirt on or off?”

Yeonjun squirms, fingers twisting in the sheets. “I’m okay with either; do you want back alley slut or girlfriend today?”

Soobin doesn’t answer; Yeonjun can feel his answer, and he doesn’t waste time pulling the zipper down and tugging the skirt off, down Yeonjun’s legs. It ends up on the floor and he’s not enough of a nice guy to pick it up.

He doesn’t usually waste time with this part, but there’s usually nothing to admire by the time most of the clothes are off; there’s just the urge to get his dick in something warm, to make Yeonjun cry into his pillows, but this time he can’t help it - touching the lace, toying with the elastic, running his fingers under it.

A part of him thinks Yeonjun is going to get anxious from all the attention, but instead he just hears a hoarse, “Pretty?”

And he can’t help but answer with, “Gorgeous.”

Yeonjun laughs - giggles - into the sheets, then the ass under Soobin’s hands wiggles teasingly. “Cuter than my tits?”

The lightheartedness makes his head spin. “Nothing is cuter than your tits.”

Another laugh. “You’re so fucking into them.”

And Soobin can’t deny that, so he pulls the lace underwear down instead.

Soobin isn’t sure if he’s ever made love, but he dizzily thinks that maybe it could feel a little like this; like pressing a smile into the skin of someone’s shoulder while buried deep in their body, feeling someone’s fingers lace with his, pressing his hand to a lace-covered chest, letting him feel a rapid, racing heartbeat. Hearing soft whimpers and moans in the air and thinking that they sound sweet, thinking about what they’d taste like in his own mouth, hearing his own name and maybe for the first time ever saying a familiar name back. Mumbling praises along someone’s spine, so good, so pretty, so perfect, pace steady but not frantic, pulsing, swelling, tasting sweat and nuzzling into sweat-slicked skin anyway.

This weird vertigo, a warm tightness in his stomach, satisfaction pouring into his veins, seeping into his bones. The rest of the world disappearing.

Somewhere along the way he calls Yeonjun beautiful and the laugh he gets in response sounds drunk, the fingers intertwined with his squeeze; Yeonjun twitches and whimpers and whines under him at one point and he keeps going, because that’s the deal, and Yeonjun just squeezes his fingers tighter where they rest around a pec, anyway.

A moan rings out through the room that belongs to neither of them and Soobin’s own hips stutter, Yeonjun lets out a choked sound and he can’t tell which one of them Yeonjun is reacting to. It doesn’t matter, does it? The world is bigger than the two of them. This room has one more person in it, and he’s just as important as if he was right there between them. Because Yeonjun loves him and Soobin knows he’d do insane things for him. He’s doing something insane for him right now, just to bring him one more step closer to happiness.

He’s so fucking stupid for him; maybe for both of them. Soobin’s a fucking idiot.

“So pretty for us,” he whispers to Yeonjun, gets a strangled whine in response, and finally feels the wave crash, pulling Yeonjun as close as possible with both arms, grinding in as tightly as he can, gasping against that lovely soft skin.

“Fuck, Soobin.”

A smile spreads on his face despite everything. He drops a kiss right where his mouth is resting. “Good?”

Yeonjun laughs. “Fuck off.”

He swivels his hips instead, even though it makes his brain white out with the sharpness of the sensation, and Yeonjun gasps under him.

“Piece of shit,” said around a smile.

“Slut,” murmured affectionately into Yeonjun’s long, sweat-matted hair.

He slowly lets Yeonjun rest in the sheets, pulls out as gently as he can. The rational part of his brain tells him to take care of the condom, then get the wipes and take care of Yeonjun, but the animal part of his brain, the idiotic part of him that can never help himself, it feels a magnetic pull towards the chair at Soobin’s writing desk, and he glances over against his better judgment.

Taehyun pulls his hand out of his jeans, clearly having just tucked himself away, stains all over the bottom hem of his shirt, almost like he wiped his hand on it, too.

“Fuck,” Soobin says quietly. Taeyhun meets his eyes, and they just end up looking at each other, both still breathing heavily, Taehyun’s face flushed a pretty red, lips bitten, sweat gathering at his hairline, staining his shirt a little. He’s not smiling, but his eyes aren’t upset, just intense; captivating.

“Did your dick fall off?” Yeonjun jokes, and they both laugh. Almost as if Taehyun’s presence slipped Yeonjun’s mind, Yeonjun shifts to look at him. Soobin wishes he could pinpoint the exact second Yeonjun notices the stains on Taehyun’s shirt, but he can’t, all he knows is that at some point, Yeonjun gathers enough presence of mind to say, “We’ll take that as a compliment.”

And Soobin wants to say that’s his line, but Yeonjun and Taehyun are too busy getting lost in each other’s eyes, and he needs to get the condom off of himself as soon as possible.

Yeonjun rolls over at some point, and Soobin doesn’t bother putting clothes on as he walks around the room, Taehyun’s eyes clinging to him once they’re able to leave Yeonjun’s ones. Soobin basically reaches over him when getting the makeup wipes off the table, and neither of them even tries to act shy.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Can he kiss me?”

Taehyun seems taken aback by the question, and so does Yeonjun when Soobin looks over.

“Taehyun’s not usually here when I’m fucking you, that’s kind of breaking the scene,” he points out, but he hopes his eyes are saying clearly enough you’re in love with this man.

“What baby wants, baby gets,” Yeonjun replies in this strange tone, and Soobin knows Yeonjun’s gaze is trying to say something too, but he can’t decipher it.

He kisses Taehyun anyway, cradles the back of his head, dives into his mouth, wonders if he tastes a little bit like chocolate now, if Taehyun can feel the traces of Yeonjun’s skin on his lips again. By the end of it, Taehyun’s nails are digging into Soobin’s thighs and his face is covered in pink again.

“Can he help me with the clean-up too?” He presses it into Taehyun’s lips, barely pulling away, not even looking over at Yeonjun. Taehyun kisses him again before Yeonjun can even answer.

“Which part?” It sounds a little unsure. Soobin pulls away from the kiss and waves the pack of makeup wipes.

“Face. I can take the princess parts.”

Yeonjun’s hands fly up again, hiding the makeup-stained face from view. “This is fucking embarrassing.”

“I can leave,” Taehyun offers, voice low from the kisses but steady.

“Don’t.”

Soobin kind of knew that was going to be the answer - Yeonjun won’t say no to Taehyun’s care, to Taehyun’s hands wiping the sweat and lipstick and concealer away.

They pile into the bed, Taehyun pulling Yeonjun’s head into his lap for easy access, Soobin between Yeonjun’s legs again, the hoodie he tossed away earlier over Yeonjun’s lap to make being on display like that between them more comfortable. The two of them wipe the worst of the aftermath away with gentle touches, then Taehyun runs the makeup wipes over the lipstick stains still lingering on Soobin, too, before giving him a brief kiss. Soobin leans down to kiss Yeonjun, who mumbles a “thank you” against his mouth, as per tradition, which makes Soobin bite another kiss off of Yeonjun’s lips.

Then Soobin sits back on his heels, and it’s just Yeonjun, sweaty, pink in the face, wearing white lace lingerie while laying in Taehyun’s lap, and Taehyun in a cum-stained shirt with bright, reverent eyes looking down at his best friend.

Soobin looks away when they kiss, but he doesn’t move so he doesn’t disturb them.

“You’re really fucking pretty,” Taehyun whispers.

“I wore this for you,” Yeonjun replies.

They both sound like ‘I love you’ to Soobin.

Beomgyu dyed his hair.

He sits at the kitchen table while Soobin stands on the other side of the room by the tea kettle, and all Soobin can think about is he dyed his hair. It suits him - makes him look a bit ethereal, a bit fairy-like, with his pretty, delicate face and eyes full of stars and everything that Soobin fell in love with.

The room has never felt so cold.

“I saw you and Taehyun hanging out around campus a few times. Are you guys hitting it off?”

Soobin wants to scoff at that, wants to snap, yell, throw something. Wants to sink to his knees and break down crying. “We hang out.”

“With Yeonjun, too?” There’s no inflection in Beomgyu’s voice when he asks.

“They’re a package deal.” Now more than ever, with the whole having feelings for each other thing out in the open. Now that they aren’t afraid to want each other anymore.

Beomgyu hums. Doesn’t say, like we used to be, or asks Soobin if they’re still sleeping together. He just watches Soobin instead.

Then he says, “I’m sorry,” and Soobin’s knees almost crumble. “I was so wrapped up in him that I didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t care that he didn’t like me, or that you did. I hurt you.”

Soobin wants to hate him for that, for how careless he was with the emotions of someone who he called his best friend, but he can’t, because he used to call Beomgyu his best friend too. “I knew exactly what I was doing when I fucked him. We both did. He knew you liked him, too.”

“Ouch,” Beomgyu says in that bland voice again and Soobin almost laughs.

He’s about to open his mouth, to ask some question the answer to which would torture his mind, something like ‘why did you come here’ or ‘would you give me another chance’ or maybe just to tell him he looks as breathtaking as always, just to die knowing he’s said it out loud at least once in his life.

But then Kai walks into the kitchen, looking angelic in a white sweatshirt again and with a lipgloss on their mouth that Soobin knew they bought when out with Yeonjun - because they’re the kind of friends who just hang out now, and Yeonjun lost it after finding out Soobin had makeup wipes at his apartment because they were Kai’s - and all of their attention is stolen by them.

“Kai,” Beomgyu looks almost stricken by Kai’s presence, for whatever reason Soobin can’t for the life of him figure out. “Hey.”

“Hi, Beomgyu.” They sound warm, but they also walk over to Soobin to squeeze his hand tightly. “How have you been?”

Beomgyu shrugs. “How about you?”

Kai actually smiles. “Better.”

And for the first time since Beomgyu entered their front door, Soobin sees him smile, too. “That’s good to hear. You look good.”

“Thanks,” they reply lightly, then squeeze Soobin’s hand again. “Are you staying for dinner? We have some soup?”

Beomgyu looks at Kai doubtfully. “One of you learned how to cook?”

Kai laughs. “Yeah, no. Taehyun made too much the last time he came over.”

The expression on Beomgyu’s face isn’t very pretty, and Soobin half expects a, does he come over a lot? Or something biting, but instead Beomgyu shakes his head and says, “Sure, I could go for some soup.”

And despite everything, Kai smiles, and Soobin doesn’t ask him to leave.

Kai and Yeonjun’s nails are matching when they hold hands tightly in front of Taehyun and Soobin who are sitting on the couch, Taehyun leaned up against Soobin like always, and Yeonjun says, “I want to try she/her. Just try. I just want to know what it’ll feel like.”

And Taehyun, who was terrified since ‘there’s something I need to tell you’, relaxes immediately. “Of course, yeah. We can do that.”

Soobin doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t think he has to, but Yeonjun looks at him with so much hesitation it breaks his heart, so he says, “I like the way you did her nails, Ningie,” while making solid eye contact with Yeonjun, and she bursts into tears.

Kai is the one to hold her, and Soobin and Taehyun linger on the couch, hesitating, Taehyun’s fingers intertwining with Soobin’s and squeezing. They get up together, still holding hands, and envelop Yeonjun from behind, forming a very strange three-way hug.

“I’m proud of you,” Kai beams and winks, and Soobin and Taehyun kiss each flushed cheek.

Yeonjun leans her weight back into them, and they hold her together.

Kai is getting them alcohol. Taehyun is claiming to be studying with Yeonjun’s legs in his lap, but the motions of his fingers on Yeonjun’s skin seem too deliberate for him to really be focusing on the book he’s holding in the other hand. Yeonjun is on her phone, back lightly resting against Soobin’s arm while he plays something on his switch.

There’s a question that should be asked, by one of them, at some point. Do they still need Soobin now? Taehyun got what he wanted - the part they needed Soobin for. Yeonjun is on the way to being better, making a step toward herself every day, and their feelings are now out in the open, even though Soobin hasn’t heard either of them say the L-word to each other yet.

Yeonjun leans over to kiss Taehyun now, and he complains about her distracting him, because that’s something they do now. She whines and tosses her head back on Soobin’s shoulder, asking him to kiss her instead. He glances at Taehyun, who’s pretending to read his book again, and kisses her forehead before returning to his game.

She whines again, and he pretends like he can’t hear her complaining, like he’s not endeared by her offended pout.

They get wasted and the two sleep over again. Kai offers their bed to Yeonjun somewhere between her getting drunk and her getting wasted, and she’s dodgy with her answer enough for it to be clear to everyone that she’d rather sleep in Soobin’s. Soobin tries not to think about it too hard.

Yeonjun’s in the middle when they drag themselves to bed, and Taehyun is glued to her side, head buried in her hair and an arm across her shoulders. Soobin tries to keep his distance, but he can’t get himself to turn his back on them, no matter how he tries, so he’s forced to watch Yeonjun drag a hand across her chest over the pale pink shirt Kai lent her to sleep in.

“If I get them, I don’t want them too big.”

“What?” Taehyun murmurs into her hair, barely understandable.

“Boobs,” Yeonjun replies in an adorable pouty voice.

Taehyun reaches down to cup one side with his hand - he has better hands for this than Soobin, Soobin decides. His hands are much better for gently fondling the barest of swells. “Of course you don’t.”

Yeonjun covers his hand with hers but doesn’t push it away. “What do you mean of course?”

Soobin sees Taehyun grin through the curtain of Yeonjun’s hair. “You like them being little. Cute.”

He watches Yeonjun shiver and look at Soobin with wide, scared eyes. Soobin doesn’t meet her gaze, watches Taehyun’s hand sneak under her shirt instead. This is the moment for him to say something, insert himself, say what he thinks, what he wants, what he feels.

What he does is finally turn his back on them and try to sleep.

The air between him and the couple is weird. Yeonjun and Taehyun still kiss all the time, but they’re not dating and as far as he knows, they haven’t had sex yet. Yeonjun stopped kissing Soobin hello. Soobin stopped kissing Taehyun hello. Instead of Taehyun linking arms with Soobin when they sit next to each other, Yeonjun is in his lap these days. They still hang out, mostly when Kai is around, but Soobin and Taehyun haven’t had lunch or coffee together for two weeks.

Yeonjun sits between Kai’s legs while Kai tries to French braid her hair while Taehyun sits next to them, giving tips. Soobin is curled up on the other side of the room, ignoring everyone while he sits in the armchair and pretends he has something to do on his phone.

Beomgyu sits on the floor on the other side of the coffee table from Yeonjun.

“I should have told you why it could never happen,” Yeonjun says, sounding guilty, speaking a little too quietly.

Taehyun reaches out to hold her hand.

“I get now why you wouldn’t,” Beomgyu admits just as quietly.

Yeonjun pulls a pained face. Beomgyu tries to smile. “You look good with braided hair.”

Soobin can tell Yeonjun doesn’t believe him, but it’s not his job to interfere. “I like your new hair, too.”

He watches Beomgyu wind it around his finger. Still handsome as fuck. Soobin’s chest hurts. Taehyun’s looking at Soobin, but he ignores it, because he knows now that Taehyun knows how he would feel, just as well as Yeonjun did.

Except their story didn’t end up with them floating in entirely different dimensions, stuck watching each other as if through the opposite sides of a mirror.

Soobin is jealous again, and it’s a familiar, comforting feeling by now.

Kai is looking at him too. Beomgyu says, “I thought I needed something new in my life.”

Yeonjun smiles. “I get that.” She’s been considering dyeing her hair again, too.

Beomgyu looks at her and Taehyun’s hands, wound together on top of the carpet. “You know, I didn’t notice anything at all going on between you two? I should have known.”

Finally, Taehyun looks away from Soobin to stare at Beomgyu in surprise.

“They didn’t really notice it was mutual, either,” Soobin points out from his armchair.

The atmosphere freezes, because he’s the faulty cog in every single machine he tries to fit himself into, and he leaves the room before anyone can react. Later, Kai sneaks into his room while the three are still in their living room, with a cup of herbal tea and another sheet of stickers in their hand.

“Not strawberry this time?” He asks humorlessly.

Kai presses cute white flowers onto Soobin’s thumbs carefully. “I think you’ve had enough of strawberry.”

And he’s inclined to agree.

Yeonjun dyes her hair pink, and it makes Soobin think of the taste of strawberry milk. He and Taehyun get coffee together on campus, and she’s the only thing Taehyun talks about.

“You should ask her out,” he says over a plate of strawberry shortcake he barely took a single bite out of. “Like, officially.”

“I don’t think she wants me to,” Taehyun replies, and he barely sounds like he minds.

“Do you think she’s still scared you’ll abandon her for some reason?”

When Soobin looks up from his food, Taehyun is looking at him intently. “There’s some stuff she’s still dealing with - and in the meantime, she needs me to be there for her more than to be my girlfriend.”

And Soobin should ask, but it’s none of his business really, is it. “Have you had sex yet?” He asks instead.

Taehyun stares down at his blueberry muffin. “We haven’t felt like it yet.” Then, when he sees Soobin’s disbelieving look, “She hasn’t felt like it yet.”

“Does it bother you?”

“I’ve loved her for years thinking she’d never sleep with me without having a panic attack. I can handle her not being horny.”

Soobin can believe that, so he doesn’t push.

At some point, Taehyun covers Soobin’s hand with his own, plays with one of his fingers. “Come to the bathroom with me.”

Soobin wishes he could; wishes he could let Taehyun suck all the dark fog out of his mind through his dick. “I’m not really in the mood.”

Taehyun’s face does something weird, but he gives Soobin a smile and nods, squeezing his hand before pulling his own back. “Then nevermind.”

They finish their coffee. Soobin hugs Taehyun goodbye. Taehyun says, “If something’s up, you can talk to me anytime.”

And since there’s nothing wrong going on, Soobin ignores the words completely.

Yeonjun has a fishnet shirt on over the bralette Soobin fucked her in that first time, and she’s spent half of this party smoking on the porch instead of drinking or dancing or dragging her best friend/almost-boyfriend into a secluded room to make out. Taehyun watches her leave for about the fifth time with worried eyes.

“Go after her,” Soobin says over the rim of his shot glass before tossing the tequila back.

“No,” Taehyun sounds tense. He’s nervous, too. On edge. “She needs space.”

“Did you fight?”

He can see Taehyun’s mouth from the beginning of a no, but then he clearly changes his mind. “We had a talk, and I think it spooked her.”

“About what? Dating? The transition?”

“Sex.”

The only thing he can be helpful in; his area of expertise - Yeonjun and the intricacies of fucking her into the mattress. “I’ll go.”

Taehyun looks at him like he’s his saviour - like he could kiss him just for being willing to talk Yeonjun out of her insecurities.

He finds her outside, sitting on the lawn alone, away from the people chatting gathered on the porch. Noticing she’s sitting right on the grass in a skirt, he lays his jacket out next to her. “Sit on this.”

She almost drops her cigarette at the sound of his voice. “No,” she says when she regains composure.

“Taehyun would kill me if I let you sit bare-assed on the ground this time of year.”

Yeonjun pulls a face, but shifts over onto a corner of the jacket. Soobin sits down cross-legged next to her, leans back and stares at the sky that’s too polluted for the stars to really be visible.

“You want a cig?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Taehyun told me you had a talk and you reacted badly.”

Her whole body twitches, and she pushes the cigarette between her lips almost aggressively. “Yeah. So?”

“What was it about?”

“Us fucking.”

“Us as in you and me or us as in you and him?”

She hesitates. “Him and I.”

“You want him to fuck you.”

Yeonjun huffs, draws her knees up then thinks better about it, leans over them instead in an attempt to curl up as best as she can. “I want him to absolutely rip me to shreds.”

Soobin snorts, then looks over at her, at her pretty, scrunched-up face, those thin limbs he was so envious of. The mouth he used to kiss with his own so casually; so easily. “Then what’s the problem?”

For a few long moments, Yeonjun just continues to smoke, then shrugs. “I wish I could feel completely safe with him; not be afraid of anything when we’re together, but I can’t.” She bites her lip hard, leaving an indent in it when she lets it go. “The last time we were together like that with just the two of us, I had a panic attack in the stairwell of someone’s apartment building. I can’t stop remembering it, whenever things get a bit more heated. I know he’s getting tired of me pushing him away, but it feels like that’s better than having a mental breakdown under him because I can’t get my brain to believe that my best friend won’t hurt me.”

“He’d never hurt you.”

“I know that,” Yeonjun sighs heavily, then pushes the heels of her hands against her eyes. “He’ll be careful, and he’ll say all the right things, and he’ll fuck me like he loves me.”

Soobin wants to point out that Taehyun does love her, but she doesn’t give him a chance to answer.

“But I always reject him, anyway.”

“So me fucking you in front of him fixed his side, but not yours.”

Yeonjun laughs, then shifts to look at him, before flopping over to put her head in his lap. He considers pushing her off, but doesn’t do it - plays with the end of one of her strawberry milk French braids instead. “Basically.”

“And you don’t know what to do.”

She stares at him. Her eyes are narrowed, calculating, observing. Gauging his reaction before she even says what she wants to say. “I think I know what could help,” she corrects, lifting up her cigarette to finish it, then flicking it away carelessly. “But I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”

And Soobin just knows, somehow could feel himself getting trapped in a familiar web all over again from the very second Yeonjun climbed out of Taehyun’s lap to go smoke the first time. 

“You want me again.”

Yeonjun’s fingers drag over the underside of Soobin’s thigh. “Never stopped wanting you.”

“You want my help,” he rephrases, not in the mood to play.

To her credit, Yeonjun doesn’t beat around the bush. “I’m terrified of him triggering me. You’re the only person I really feel safe with during sex. I just want you there. I want to know that someone’s got me, that someone’s got Taehyun, if something goes wrong.”

“I can’t be your sex therapist forever.”

“That’s okay. Just one more time. One more night.”

It’s tempting; he likes the both of them, liked having sex with them. There’s a part of him that wants to stay much too involved in their relationship; that can’t stop watching them, thinking about them, that wants to know everything they do, how they’re doing. Maybe because he has been there since the beginning of this great shift, maybe because he partially triggered it himself. Maybe he’s just a creep, and maybe he latched onto them after he lost Beomgyu’s friendship for the most simple, unhealthy reasons.

He lets go of Yeonjun’s hair and scratches at the inside of his wrist instead - Yeonjun grabs his hand and presses it to her own chest. Soobin’s breath hitches a little, and her thumb caresses the back of his hand.

“You don’t have to get involved; you don’t have to touch me at all. Everything I need is to know you’re there.” She says it so quietly, so intimately, soft and pleading.

Yeonjun needs him - and it’s far from the pleasurable knowledge that it used to be.

“Would Taehyun agree?” But the truth is that they both know that-

“He’d do it for me.”

All Taehyun wants is for her to be happy - for her to be healthy. And all Soobin wants is…

He leans down and she leans up like it’s the most natural thing in the world, they share a close-mouthed, short kiss that feels more like one a couple would share than a guy and a girl who just asked him to watch her and her not-quite-boyfriend fuck. It leaves traces of that familiar strawberry milk chapstick on Soobin’s lips.

“Is that a yes?”

“Talk to Taehyun.”

“Talk to him with me.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Yeonjun presses her pretty strawberry lips together. “He’s your friend, too.”

Soobin feels so goddamn tired. “You can’t keep putting me in the middle of this. It’s not fair.”

“Does it feel like what Beomgyu did? Because it’s not the same.”

Maybe it’s not, but it’s too close for comfort - but Taehyun said it before, didn’t he? And as much as they tried, it never stopped being the truth. Taehyun is the trigger, and Soobin is the comfort, and maybe things like that can’t just be solved for good with some gifted lipstick and a bit of consensual voyeurism. Soobin did something, that first night, is something that is too painfully right - and Yeonjun having that comfort torn away might just be too much strain to put her and Taehyun’s relationship under at this point in time.

She needs to feel safe, and Soobin being there is the easiest way to make her feel that way. However Soobin feels about that. However Soobin feels about them. No matter what Soobin wants; no matter how much they might be willing to give.

That includes when breaking the news to Taehyun that their first time can’t be their own - that this, too, will have to be something the two of them will have to share with Just Some Guy. That he really isn’t perfect for Yeonjun, despite how much he loves her, how hard he tries for her.

This is all so fucked up.

Soobin leans down to kiss Yeonjun again, just to comfort himself, and she holds his face gently enough that it works - he’s not sure how to feel about that, either.

Taehyun takes the I want Soobin there the first time we have sex about as well as a guy can take his girlfriend breaking the news of I can’t be alone with you while he fuck, and Soobin isn’t sure why he’s surprised.

First off, it’s not news, because Taehyun is smart enough to figure this shit out, because he’s understood it from the start, and second off, because he’s the one who asked to watch them together that first time.

Still, there’s a tension in his shoulders that slips off when he nods and goes, “Yeah, I understand.”

Yeonjun gives him the prettiest smile; they’re at Yeonjun’s again, because things like these can only happen at Yeonjun’s, probably. They took her home from the party, and she insisted on bringing them both inside to have the big conversation as soon as possible.

They’re lucky Taehyun was too anxious to get wasted, really. Soobin wishes he was wasted, even though there’s not malice, doubt or awkwardness on Taehyun’s face when he looks at Soobin.

“You agreed to it.”

“Reluctantly.”

He expects Taehyun to smile or to laugh, but he doesn’t, just frowns, mouth shifting in an expression that’s somewhere between thoughtful and unhappy. Soobin doesn’t want to think about it too hard, he really doesn’t.

“Why?” He also doesn’t expect Taehyun to actually try and talk about it, even though he should have known that, too.

“Tyun.” Yeonjun cuts him off, disapproving. “Don’t. Leave him alone.”

The look Taehyun sends Yeonjun looks hurt, like her standing up for Soobin is a betrayal, which maybe it is, to Taehyun. She still can’t be satisfied just with her best friend at her side, and she takes her therapeutic sex toy’s side, too. That has to be humiliating.

“I think I’ll leave you two to talk,” he mumbles without making eye contact with either of them and heads for the front door.

Taehyun steps in his way, because of course he does. “Soobin.” He sounds serious; he sounds as ‘we should talk’ as Yeonjun did when inviting them inside.

Soobin doesn’t want to talk to either of them. Not tonight and maybe not tomorrow, either.

He’s startled when Taehyun comes in for a kiss, and he pushes him away, purposefully doesn’t look at his face when he reacts, shaking his head. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Soobin.” He says Soobin’s name like saying it in a gentler tone can change something, but it can’t. It’s that Soobin’s name is in his mouth at all, when it should be only Yeonjun’s by now.

“No.”

“Thank you.”

The surprises just keep coming. He finally looks at Taehyun, who still looks pained but also sincere. Soobin knows he means it - can’t decide if it helps.

“You’ve done a lot for us. Still do. Thank you.”

Soobin’s mind tries to stretch, wrap itself around the words, register them, process them, but he’s stuck just staring at Taehyun’s handsome face instead. His pretty eyes and cherry coke and cat pictures and absolute devoted love for his best friend through thick and thin.

“I want to be alone this weekend,” he says and knows his voice sounds too thin and quiet. He doesn’t sound okay; maybe he doesn’t even want them to think he is. “I don’t want to text or call or see you. I’ll still do it. But don’t contact me. And don’t kiss me anymore.”

Something snaps shut on Taehyun’s face - Soobin tries not to feel guilty about it. “Okay.”

“Thanks.”

This time, no one stops him from leaving.

“You’ve got your breakup face on.”

Soobin kind of wants to die. There’s food in front of him he hasn’t touched in the past 20 minutes. He feels cold, has been feeling cold for about three days now, no matter how much tea Kai brings him, no matter how many hugs they give. All of his nails have rainbow stickers on them. Sometimes, when that empty feeling in his chest dissipates a little, they almost make him smile when he looks at them.

He looks up at Beomgyu, who sat in front of him unprompted, out of nowhere, without asking if he could. There’s not a single thing out of place about him, his hair is perfect, he’s dressed well, sitting pretty, put together. Breathtaking like always.

Soobin wants to punch him in the face.

“Did you come here to brag or something?” He thought they made up; that Beomgyu having his hushed conversation with Yeonjun, that him coming to Soobin’s to apologise, then chatting away with Kai over dinner meant that they were done; resolved. No need to torture Soobin anymore for mistakes that are water under the bridge.

Beomgyu ignores the question. “I can’t tell which one of them it’s for at this point.”

“What if it’s for Kai?” The bitterness gives it a bite despite how tired he feels, and he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to fall apart right in front of the last guy who crushed him like this.

“Please,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, sucks at the straw of his own drink. “Kai would never break your heart like that. If you had feelings for them, you two would be frolicking in a field somewhere together right now.”

He doesn’t disagree, but he rolls his eyes anyways and starts actually poking at his food just for something to do that’s not watching Beomgyu study him like he’s a pinned butterfly he’s morbidly fascinated with.

“Which one?”

Soobin sighs, tosses his fork onto the table with a loud clatter that somehow doesn’t startle Beomgyu at all. “Does it matter?”

His former best friend just sips his stupid iced coffee. “It does if you want advice.”

Does Soobin want Beomgyu’s advice? Does he want to talk to him at all at this point? “What if it’s both?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen, and Soobin finds some hollow sort of satisfaction in that. He thought he was getting a heartbroken Soobin served on a silver platter? He doesn’t know the half of it.

Then Beomgyu’s laughing, slapping his hand against a table as he bends over with the giggles. “We’ve never had a chance, did we? Either of us.”

Not even for a second.

Kai and Yeonjun still text every day, as far as Soobin can tell. He hasn’t seen her or Taehyun in a week. Neither of them texted him, or came to hang out at his place - he asked for two days of space and got seven. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

His roommate giggles at their phone, and Soobin feels sick thinking about the possibility of him ruining that spark of joy in them by destroying another friend group he dragged them into. Why can’t he just fit somewhere naturally? Fully? Without constantly straining against the limits of himself, of those relationships?

It’s him who’s the problem, right? He’s the drop of poison that taints the whole well - and the only one who can put up with him, who can stay by his side, is an absolute angel of a human being, because nobody less than a saint can stand him.

That night, he texts Yeonjun, can we do it at yours? I don’t want to have to tell Kai about this.

And Yeonjun’s only reply is a, sure.

It’s Taehyun who seeks him out first; corners him on campus and takes him to their usual café, pays for Soobin’s coffee and a slice of cake he pushes into the middle of the table like he thinks Soobin is actually going to eat it. Soobin tries to ignore everything - his drink, the cake, Taehyun, the weird tugging in his chest at seeing him again - and scratches his wrist frantically instead.

Then Taehyun says, “Yeonjun thinks you don’t find her attractive anymore,” and Soobin bursts out laughing.

It’s too loud - people are staring disapprovingly, and Taehyun looks stricken. Soobin ignores it all, topples onto the table and giggles into his arms. Yeonjun thinks he doesn’t think she’s pretty. Yeonjun thinks that him not wanting to kiss her, not wanting to watch her boyfriend fuck her is about her not being pretty to him anymore.

He can’t tell if it’s the situation or her who’s stupid, really - or if it’s Taehyun, for taking it so fucking seriously.

“Whatever helps her sleep at night.”

“It’s not true, is it?” Soobin laughs instead of answering. “Soobin.”

And suddenly it’s too easy to calm down, to look up at Taehyun and say, “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Once again, Taehyun looks hurt; like he cares, like he has feelings that Soobin is capable of hurting. “Is it me? You don’t have to… I didn’t think…”

“Taehyun, stop.” His head is a mess, it’s loud and staticy and his chest keeps aching, but this much is clear to him. “I’ll be there for the two of you. I’ll make sure Yeonjun is okay - that she’ll relax with you. But then I need you to let me go. I need to live my fucking life, outside the two of you.”

He watches Taehyun stumble; falter - watches his face seize and twist and he feels awful, guilty. Not for saying what he said, but for letting it get to this point. Taehyun’s hands ball into fists on top of the table. “Alright. Sure. I’ll relay the message.”

His voice is clipped. Soobin understands, and doesn’t hold it against him.

“You can’t tell her to stay away from Kai too, though.”

He laughs. “I don’t want to. Kai loves her.”

Taehyun shoots him a strange look; Soobin ignores it, and takes a bite of the cake before getting up and leaving him there alone.

Everything’s wrong. This is a terrible idea.

The only chair in Yeonjun’s apartment creaks when he sits down on it. It’s clear she cleaned up, most of the clothes are in much neater piles or tucked away completely and the beer bottles are gone. Even the bed is made, making it look weirdly impersonal all of a sudden.

Yeonjun sits at the foot of it, wrapped in a fluffy black dressing gown, hugging herself, matching black nails digging into her own elbows as she avoids looking at Soobin. She doesn’t have makeup on and her hair is pulled back in a low pony-tail. It’s much more practical than the last time; it’s much less of a show. This is personal, this is real. This is her giving something precious to someone who she holds precious. It’s not a transaction, or a coping mechanism.

It’s just a girl in love with a boy, who’s sitting with his back against the wall, staring at Soobin instead. He looks angry and hurt and Soobin knows that this is not right. It’s not supposed to be like this. It can’t happen like this, and he likes them both too much to let them do this to themselves.

“Yeonjun.” His voice comes out so much softer than he expects it to. She doesn’t look up, not even when he gets up and walks over to her, when he drops to a crouch in front of her. Taehyun watches him, but doesn’t make a single move.

He repeats her name once he’s close, and she finally looks at him, although she doesn’t fully turn her face his way.

“You know it’s not right like this. You don’t want it like this.”

Tears well up in her eyes and neither of them reaches out to wipe them away when they spill over. Taehyun still isn’t moving.

“I’m sorry I broke it, I didn’t mean to do it so soon. I really wanted to help you. I want you two to work out.” He swallows, blinks past the wetness in his own eyes. “And you will; you love each other so much. I don’t know if you’ve said it yet, but we all know, don’t we? You’re made for each other. You’ll figure this out together. You can do anything as long as you stick to each other like you have, okay?”

She’s sobbing - she raises the sleeve of her dressing gown to muffle the sound in them. Soobin doesn’t reach out to comfort her; it’s not his place. Taehyun still refuses to move.

“Taehyun, I know you don’t think so, but you’re perfect for her. You do so fucking much for her. Just for her. She’s so fucking lucky to have you.”

They’re so lucky to have each other, and Soobin is so painfully jealous. Of both of them. He wants to be happy; to fit in somewhere, stop being the square peg forcing himself into a round hole after a round hole. Wants someone to be gentle with him, wants to hold and be held, to be wanted more than needed.

Taehyun kisses him. Soobin barely registers him coming close before he’s being kissed on the mouth - soft, chaste. When he doesn’t pull away, Taehyun tries his luck with kissing him deeper; pulling closer - tilting Soobin’s hand with a gentle hand behind his ear.

He kisses back because he’s hopeless, hurting, and Taehyun knows him so well; knows his mouth like the back of his hand by now, knows what he likes, knows where to tease and where to bite to have Soobin melting into his hands. Long nails drag down his arm, raising goosebumps in their wake, and he reaches out blindly, a delicate hand grabbing onto his immediately. He settles the other on Taehyun’s wrist where he’s still holding Soobin’s head.

Taehyun pushes at him and they shuffle around, Soobin letting them pull him this way and that until he’s sitting on the cold floor between Yeonjun’s legs, Taehyun almost on his lap, one of Yeonjun’s hands still intertwined with his. Being surrounded by them feels warm; it’s like he’s covered in a blanket woven out of Taehyun’s mouth, Yeonjun’s soft skin and the sound of their heavy breathing.

The second he breathes out “stop” into Taehyun’s mouth, he stops kissing him and stares into his eyes from up close instead - that, instead of making him feel warm, almost sets him on fire. His gaze is so intent; so heated - like he’s seeing Soobin, nothing but Soobin.

“You need to stop messing with me.”

“We’re not messing with you.” Without hesitation. Blunt. Straightforward. Everything he loves about Taehyun.

“Did I not make it clear enough?” He laughs wetly - he refuses to cry in front of them. He refuses to. “I don’t want to be your shared fuckbuddy. I don’t want to be your third wheel; the bit of baggage you’re keeping around from when you weren’t together yet. You liked fucking me; I liked fucking you, too. But it’s time to stop. You need to let me go.”

Taehyun narrows his eyes at him disapprovingly. “Not everything is about sex, Soobin.”

“Between us, it is. What happened to ‘Taehyun is not looking for a relationship’?” Yeonjun’s hand pulls away from Soobin’s immediately.

But while Taehyun looks a little hurt, he also looks determined. “When we started this, I was not. I wanted to have Yeonjun first, if I could. And I did. Thanks to you.” He grabs his face with both hands now. “Soobin. I-”

“Your girlfriend is right here.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Taehyun snaps, and Soobin actually obeys for once in his life. “If you don’t have feelings for me, just fucking say it. I didn’t think you did - for Yeonjun, maybe, but not for me. But you make me doubt it sometimes, and it’s driving me crazy, because I want to be wrong. I really want to be wrong.”

He tries to process it. Tries and fails, then tries again and fails again. Taehyun’s eyes are wide and imploring; the hands on his cheeks warm. Seconds keep slipping away; the world keeps spinning, maybe, but Soobin’s chest is swollen, he’s frozen in a vacuum; stuck in the absence of words to respond to Taehyun with.

“Soobin,” Yeonjun’s voice is quiet, too. She’s been training it, and doing really well, but it breaks weirdly on the hoarseness from the crying. “I know I’m not what you want. I’m not…”

“Yeonjun.” Taehyun says it like a reprimand, and Yeonjun sobs before regaining her bearings again.

“I like you. So fucking much. I feel like I could trust you with my life, and I want you to trust me with yours too, someday. I want to learn what you need, and to give it to you. You’re so fucking special to me; and you always will be - even if you tell me to fuck off now.”

He shakes his head. Yeonjun sobs again but muffles it almost immediately.

“You two don’t need me; you’ll figure this out.”

“We don’t,” Taehyun replies as easily as if it was a given; as if they all knew all along. “We want you. What we’re trying to ask is-” He shakes Soobin’s face side to side a little, still staring at him with the same blazing intensity. “What do you want, Soobin?”

Happiness. Satisfaction. A sense of belonging. Love.

“It hurts, every single day,” he says nonsensically. Yeonjun runs her fingers through his hair. Taehyun’s hands soften up on his cheeks, thumbs running in soothing circles.

“What does?” It’s Yeonjun who asks, gentle but with her voice straining.

“Everything.”

Yeonjun’s strokes through his hair waver. “Soobin.”

He tries to imagine needing them; being the one held, suspended between them for comfort, like right now. Wouldn’t that be sweet? Wouldn’t it be warm? If they’d have him?

“I’d just be stuck between you, wouldn’t I? I’m an afterthought. I don’t fit between you.”

“It’s never been as easy as it was with you. Not even with Yeonjun.” Taehyun says it with such conviction - and with how unafraid he is to say it out loud, Soobin feels like this is something the two of them talked about already. Maybe they planned this; maybe they were never going to let him just watch them and leave today. “Yeonjun knows me better than anyone, but you came naturally - and you fit so perfectly into my life; into every single empty space of it. You helped me get something I never thought I’d have, and I couldn’t believe my fucking luck that I got to have you and her at the same time. But you pulled back.”

“You were so reluctant around me,” Yeonjun adds from above him. “I thought… maybe things changed. As I… worked on… me. That maybe you liked the other version of me better. So I was afraid, but never for a second did it feel like you were in the way of anything; that you belonged anywhere than in between us. It just hurt to think that that’s not where you wanted to be.”

“I feel like I’m in the way,” he confesses, quietly, tilting his head back to look at Yeonjun, whose face is red and wet from crying. “I always feel like I’m in the way. Even now, you could be-”

“This is what we want to be doing,” Taehyun interrupts, in that firm, no-nonsense voice.

Soobin looks at him; at his face that keeps fighting to stay level, for both his and Yeonjun’s sake, maybe. “So you did plan this.”

“After we spoke at the café.”

Yeonjun scratches at his scalp, careful, affectionate. “If it was going to be our last chance, we had to try.”

Taehyun’s hand shift to Soobin’s shoulders, squeezing. “You said it yourself - we’ll figure ourselves out. With or without you. We love each other - but we both have feelings for you, too. So if there’s any part of you that feels anything in return…”

“Please don’t leave us.” Yeonjun’s hands touch Soobin too, caress the sides of his neck, thumbs brushing over the curve of his ears. He breathes out. Breathes in.

Exhales frost, inhales warmth.

“Yeonjun.”

“Hm?”

He tilts his head back again. “Kiss me?”

And she does, and it feels just like at the party, even though it’s upside down, even though Taehyun’s palms are drawing circles on Soobin’s chest soothingly as her lips brush over his. It’s comforting and soft. Loving, even. Fond. It’s a confession in itself, and Soobin wonders if he was stupid not to have felt it ever before, or if it’s new - if only now she’s letting herself kiss him like she means it.

“Taehyun?”

Yeonjun cradles Soobin’s head while they kiss too - it’s surreal; a moment suspended in melting, warm colors swirling around him. Soft skin and Taehyun’s mouth and its boring, proper taste of mint and mouthwash. Soobin wants to taste it infected with strawberry; wants to kiss the flavor into him.

He wants them back - and if that’s not good enough, then so be it. Soobin’s edges are battered, scratched up and bruised from trying to fit in, but he’s still breathing. He can take one more. Just one more. He’s loved, outside of them. If nothing else, Kai is there, will always be there, always choosing his side, because they always did, and the tiny white hearts on his index fingers that brush over the line of Taehyun’s jaw are a reminder of that.

It’s not enough, but it’s enough to rebuild from, if he crumbles.

“We should get off the floor,” he mumbles into Taehyun’s mouth and Taehyun laughs.

They lie on Yeonjun’s bed; Soobin pulls her dressing gown open out of sheer curiosity to reveal wine-red lace and that stupid white garter hugging her thigh, a strap reaching up to the part wrapped around her waist. She doesn’t stop him or try to hide away, just lets his eyes roam all over her body while she runs her fingers through Taehyun’s hair, who’s on his side next to her across from Soobin, watching Soobin’s reaction amusedly. He doesn’t look surprised; so he must have seen it before.

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and her voice wavers a little, betraying her where the rest of her body didn’t.

“You’re so hot,” he says instead of replying properly, reaching out to tuck his fingers into the garter, pulling the way he dreamed about doing, like he fantasized about doing while alone in his room, looking at a picture of it on his phone. He pulls her legs apart like that, then slips in between them, leans down to kiss her.

Her free hand tangles in his hair and she kisses him back, passionate but aimless.

“I wore it for you,” Yeonjun says with a smile once he pulls back, taps the tip of his nose, then tugs at his earlobe.

And Soobin remembers in a sudden crack of deja vu hearing her say the same words to Taehyun, thinking back then that it was as much of a love confession as she could give him without saying the words out loud.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he says with a grin, and he means it, he means the smile that stretches his lips when Taehyun pulls him into a kiss too.

“We compared notes,” Taehyun remarks thoughtfully while Soobin leans down to bite at Yeonjun’s chest, making her squeak and pull at his hair. “We know all your weaknesses now.”

Soobin groans, because that’s probably true, but gathers his confidence, reaches out with one hand to run it up the back of Taehyun’s thigh, squeezing when he reaches his target at the same time as he runs his tongue over Yeonjun’s nipple. They both make very satisfying sounds, and Soobin thinks, dizzily, that he can handle this. He can do this. He knows them, too.

His fingers slide further to the inside of Taehyun’s thigh and dig in, and the noise he makes makes Yeonjun giggle and lean over to kiss the corner of his mouth, making him blush. They’re pretty to look at when together, too; when Taehyun leans over Yeonjun to kiss her breath away.

Soobin sleeps over. The next morning, he holds Yeonjun in his arms, arms tight around her middle and face buried in her strawberry milk hair, while Taehyun kisses her all over, bites at her stomach and laughs against the inside of her thighs, and they chat about how pretty she is like she’s not even there, making her squirm and blush and claw at them with her long nails.

Taehyun kisses her when she seems to be getting too overwhelmed, and she melts into him, and Soobin’s chest feels full of something warm at the sight; he’s got her. She was worried, but he’s got her.

When Taehyun’s hands reach between her legs, she tenses, but that’s Soobin’s time to step in - kiss her face and remind her that he’s here, that she’s doing well. That she’s beautiful; that Taehyun loves her, and she’s okay. He calls her their baby girl to make her laugh, and she finally giggles and relaxes, nuzzles his face, closes her eyes.

She mostly says Taehyun’s name this time, but Soobin’s slips in too, and she clutches at them both when Taehyun tries to nudge her to turn around and she shakes her head with her eyes squeezed shut.

“You want it like this?” Taehyun questions, surprised, and she nods this time.

“I want to see you. Kiss you. Just don’t… touch. No hands.”

“No hands,” he repeats, then leans forward to peck her on the mouth. “But you’ll have to open your eyes to see me.”

She squints one eye open at him. “Smartass.”

“Just pointing that out,” Taehyun says happily and pushes her further into Soobin with his hips.

And it’s strange, being right there while the other two have sex without either of them really touching him, but it’s worth it, for getting to see it, experience it, feel the connection between them against his own skin, having Taehyun’s fingers tangled with his as his arms tremble a little with effort, having Yeonjun’s nails trailing up his bare thigh once she’s shaken apart under Taehyun with the help of the pressure of her own palm against the front of the lace still covering her lower body and she does her best to not squirm away from the sensation of him still working himself towards an orgasm inside her.

“I love watching you cum,” he says into her ear and she shivers and twitches in his hold. “It’s so cute.”

The inappropriateness of the word makes her laugh, and Taehyun bares his teeth in a grin as well, too breathless to laugh. Soobin runs a hand up his side and can pinpoint in the ripple of his back under his own fingertips the very second he tips over the edge.

Yeonjun holds him in her arms afterwards while Soobin holds her, and it’s sweaty and too-warm and he’s so hard against Yeonjun’s back it’s almost painful, but it works. It fits. Like an intricate milk puzzle, every piece of it so unique it seems to make no sense until it’s put together, when it becomes perfect, pure and just right.

A little later, Yeonjun kisses Soobin’s cheeks while Taehyun sucks his dick, and it’s too sweet, too motherly for the situation, but when he protests, she just laughs and wraps her arms around his shoulders too tightly for him to push her away. He doesn’t try to hard; it’s impossible for him not to lose his mind to the warmth of Taehyun’s mouth, anyway.

Kai texts him to ask if he’s okay, and he doesn’t know what to reply. Is he? He doesn’t feel ‘okay’. He feels ecstatic; floaty; warm. Yeonjun presses a strawberry milk kiss into his shoulder, and Taehyun leaves honey on his temple from the tea he made himself in Yeonjun’s sorry excuse of a kitchen. He’s surrounded by warmth, by sweetness.

Do you want to get lunch with us today? He replies instead. We have news.

And Kai replies with, we? And Soobin replies with a winky face. Kai sends about two dozen hearts, then a cheeky, so strawberry’s back on the menu?

He falls onto his back laughing, and Yeonjun and Taehyun watch him fondly from where they’re cuddled up on the bed together. He reaches out for them, and they both move towards him, wrap him up in between them, fitting into his sides perfectly.