Archive of Our Own

I’m sorry, the notification reads at the top. Beomgyu doesn’t even bother tapping on it to see the entire message, for he already knows what follows next.

He’s not angry, no. A bit disappointed, yes. There’s an excruciating feeling setting in the pit of his stomach that he can’t get rid of, not by himself at least. 

The text reads I’m sorry, but Beomgyu thinks he’s sorry more. He stands still with his phone in his hand, reading the same words over and over, not capable of mustering the courage to see more. He must’ve spent enough time in the middle of the hallway for anybody to see him and ask him what the hell he’s doing. 

“Beomgyu-yah, give me a hand,” Yeonjun says, smacking his arm. It’s the first time he sees him since he arrived. 

Soobin looks like an enormous lump next to Yeonjun, with one arm draped around his shoulder and leaning on him, face all flushed and with an expression similar to him looking sick in the stomach. 

“What happened to him?” 

“He’s drunk as fuck,” Yeonjun replies, legs shaky as he tries to bear the heavy weight that is Soobin in his state. “Help me carry him to the bathroom. He said he wanted to throw up.” 

Fortunately, the bathroom is empty when they get there. Yeonjun sits Soobin on the floor in front of the toilet, and Beomgyu closes the door in order to protect Soobin’s dignity.

“How long have you been here?” Yeonjun casually asks, leaning on the sink with his arms crossed. He utters the question as if they weren’t waiting for Soobin to flush everything he’s consumed today through the toilet. “Where’s Donghyuck?”

Beomgyu looks up at him from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bathtub; Soobin hugging the toilet as if his life depended on it. How long has he been here? He doesn’t know. Where’s Donghyuck? That’s a fucking good question. He wishes he knew the answer. He’d been text messaging Donghyuck long before he even got out of his house and that’s what he’s been doing all this time, so he has no idea what time he got here and Donghyuck’s location was the least important matter.

Soobin makes a sound that tells them his stomach is rejecting all the shit he’s been drinking and Yeonjun’s question is left unanswered. Beomgyu rubs Soobin’s back in hopes that it will ease his physical discomfort and Yeonjun gives him a glass of water and a towel when he’s finished. 

Kai finds them just as they’re leaving the bathroom and throws them a horrified look. 

“We’re not—”

“Huening-ah, take Soobin upstairs,” Yeonjun says before Beomgyu can give any further explanation. Luckily, Yeonjun’s disinterested and absolutely non-suspicious tone clears out any misunderstanding Kai had been forming in his head.

“What’s up with him?” Kai asks, holding Soobin when he passes from Yeonjun to him.

“He threw up,” Beomgyu replies, “but he’s okay now.” 

Kai takes Soobin upstairs without further questions and neither Beomgyu nor Yeonjun see them again for the rest of the night. Beomgyu sticks to Yeonjun because he doesn’t know anyone else in the party and he particularly isn’t in the mood to socialize. 

They stay in the backyard—Yeonjun’s idea—despite the chilly spring night because neither of them can bear the smell of alcohol reeking the entire house. Beomgyu disagrees, but Yeonjun says the smell of cigarettes is less unbearable than the one of alcohol, but to each their own. Yeonjun offers him a cigarette and Beomgyu takes one, anyway. 

“Hey, you never answered what I asked you,” Yeonjun says with the cigarette already on in between his lips. Beomgyu leans in and Yeonjun reaches out to light his cigarette for him. “Where’s Donghyuck?” 

Beomgyu takes the first drag of his cigarette, ignoring Yeonjun’s question. He knows it’s a matter of time before Yeonjun gets too interested in knowing why Beomgyu’s here alone and doesn’t say where’s Donghyuck, so he resolves that the best is to get over with it now rather than later. 

“We broke up,” Beomgyu says, not exactly answering Yeonjun’s question. He could’ve said that he doesn’t know because he truly doesn’t, but he assumes his response is self-explanatory and way more straightforward than anything else. “Well, he broke up with me.”

“Oh,” it’s all Yeonjun says. Beomgyu knows that the momentarily silence fhat follows is due to the sudden fear of having fucked things up. Then Yeonjun clears his throat before he says, “and how does that make you feel?” 

Beomgyu snorts. That’s a question he expects to hear from a therapist rather than a friend. How does that make him feel? Beomgyu can’t help but smile bitterly. “I’m not surprised,” he says instead, taking a drag of his own cigarette. “I should’ve expected it after he didn’t show up for my birthday.” 

Donghyuck not showing up for his birthday was just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many things underwater that Beomgyu doesn’t tell Yeonjun, like Donghyuck not making time to see him and not accepting Beomgyu to make the effort either; the late replies that at some point turned into unanswered messages and Beomgyu just let it be, the regret leaving a sour taste in his mouth now that he thinks about it.

There are so many things, some of them Beomgyu doesn’t understand and never will because nothing’s ever that simple. Yeonjun, especially, wouldn’t understand. 

“Do you want me to beat him up?” Yeonjun says all of a sudden, and Beomgyu looks at him as if he’d just said the most outrageous thing ever. “What? You don’t think I could do it? He’s shorter than me, that is a good advantage.” 

“No, I mean—” Beomgyu takes another drag, holds it, and exhales, dropping the cigarette consumed to the half to the ground. “Why would you want to do that?”

“He broke your heart.” Yeonjun says matter-of-factly. 

Beomgyu wouldn’t call it a heartbreak. He’s a bit hurt, but it is what it is. Donghyuck is nice, and Beomgyu forgives him either way. He didn’t elaborate why he wanted to break up, but the mere fact of not wanting to be with someone anymore should be enough to break up, and Beomgyu respects that. Even if the wound is fresh and open, he decides he won’t hold any grudges. 

Still, he thinks Yeonjun’s reaction is cute. It makes him feel like his friend really cares about him, as ridiculous as that sounds because Yeonjun obviously cares about him. 

“Why are you laughing?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Beomgyu says, still smiling. “You’ve never been in a relationship.” 

“I have,” Yeonjun says confidently. 

“But not, like, in a serious relationship,” Beomgyu clarifies. 

Yeonjun doesn’t date—at least not in serious terms. He goes on dates, has one night stands, casual hookups and all those things Beomgyu has never tried before. Yeonjun once told him relationships at this stage of life never last, which he’s right to some extent: relationships don’t last, but that applies to any stage of life. That is just Yeonjun’s cheap excuse to not compromise because he’s afraid of commitment. 

“You know, I would be a good boyfriend,” Yeonjun comments then, offering Beomgyu another cigarette. Beomgyu shouldn’t, but for a second time in the night, he accepts it. “I’m boyfriend material, or whatever that is called.” 

This time Beomgyu lights his own cigarette, taking a long deep drag of smoke before exhaling with a giggle. “And yet you’re not capable of establishing yourself with anybody. Seriously, hyung, at this point you’re more like a fuckboy to me.”

It’s almost comical that Yeonjun’s reaction is just him coughing the life out of himself, his lungs doing extra work after all the smoke they’ve been put through. Yeonjun holds a hand over his heart in an attempt to calm himself and to make Beomgyu feel slightly guilty, but Beomgyu all does is to look at him unfazed. 

“I think that’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to me,” Yeonjun confesses. He keeps smoking because he’s still alive and he might as well finish his own cigarette. “I’m many things, but I’m not a fuckboy.”

“Hyung, you don’t like commitment,” Beomgyu begins and raises his voice when Yeonjun seemingly opens his mouth to refute. “You don’t take relationships seriously.” 

“That’s not—”

“Hyung,” says Beomgyu again, earnestly. “Name one person you wanted to be with, as in, in an established relationship in the last two years.” 

Yeonjun shuts up, stays quiet, and thinks—or at least that’s what Beomgyu thinks he’s doing.

“Okay, you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I’m a fuckboy. I think I just…” he trails off, like he’s got lost in his own thoughts. Beomgyu looks at him expectantly, waiting for Yeonjun’s conclusion to be said out loud. “I think I just haven’t found the one yet?” he says unsure, and Beomgyu just nods. And then silence settles in.

The night suddenly turned windy. Beomgyu doesn’t know how long they’ve been outside, he always loses track of time whenever he’s with Yeonjun. 

A couple steps out as they talk and quiet down when they notice Beomgyu and Yeonjun standing a couple of meters away from them. Beomgyu watches them as they sit on one of the seats placed next to the door and wonders why he and Yeonjun didn’t sit there first. He wants to go inside, but there’s still half of his cigarette to be consumed. 

Beomgyu turns to Yeonjun and Yeonjun is already staring at him. Not like Beomgyu can tell exactly how; the light outside is very poor and only lights up the area closest to it. Still, Beomgyu knows Yeonjun is looking at him attentively, like he always does.

“Anyway, you’re okay then?” come Yeonjun’s words after a long pause. Beomgyu stares back at him, taking a drag of his cigarette, a long, deep one before he continues, “No need for me to beat anyone up?” 

This is one of the things Beomgyu likes the most about Yeonjun. He always cares, genuinely so. Even if the topic is kind of heavy or delicate, Yeonjun has the power to make anyone feel less bad. There is no effort to make people feel at ease, he can do that naturally, unforced, and a comfort that Beomgyu is yet to find in other people. 

“I’ll be okay,” Beomgyu says. He’s comfortable enough to let Yeonjun know that this is something that affects him, that has made him sad because of course, but at the same time, he trusts his friend won’t do pirouettes to ease the pain, as small as it can be. “No need to beat anyone up.” 

“Good,” Yeonjun says, and with the cigarette between his lips, he places his hand on Beomgyu’s neck and squeezes, a gesture Beomgyu’s used to by now. It always makes him feel something he doesn’t really have the words to explain. It’s good, inexplicably good, special, and just good in general. Yeonjun is always good at making people feel good. Beomgyu feels this especially when it comes to him. Or perhaps it’s just that Beomgyu feels at ease with Yeonjun overall, like it’s his second nature. 

Yeonjun’s hand keeps squeezing and caressing the back of his neck, as if soothing whatever Beomgyu’s ailment is, and Beomgyu finds himself giving into it. 

“So, going back to your commitment issues…” he teases and Yeonjun’s only resolution is to groan in annoyance and pinch Beomgyu’s nape harshly as revenge. 

It feels weird to go back to singleness after being in a relationship for a determined period. Not like the relationship with Donghyuck lasted too long. They were a month away from celebrating their first anniversary, but alas. At least Beomgyu doesn’t have to worry about a present now.

Two weeks have passed since then, and although he feels okay, there is this awkward feeling, like a flip that his stomach does every time he remembers Donghyuck or sees anything related to him. He deactivated his Instagram account and deleted Donghyuck’s number from his contact list so he doesn’t give into the curiosity. The last thing he wants to do is to start reading in between the lines, looking for a reason behind Donghyuck’s decision. 

Beomgyu wants to heal, yet he can’t help but think too much about it. He realizes that he truly never picked up on the signs and the small details until it was too late. Taehyun calls it introspection. Yeonjun calls it overthinking more than necessary. 

Relationships are complex, Beomgyu concludes one day. 

Yeonjun stares at him as he listens to his rambling attentively. Perhaps he’s not even listening for real, but Beomgyu just needs to vent. 

“Whenever I think about him, I feel like my stomach drops.”

“I think you need distraction,” Yeonjun tells him. As calm as he may seem, Beomgyu knows that his knee as it’s bouncing is close to hitting the underside of the table at the speed of a sewing machine. “You’re spending too much time on your own. The mourning period is over, now it’s time for you to have some fun.” 

“Define have some fun,” Beomgyu says, making air-quotes. 

Yeonjun grins before leading the straw right into his lips. Beomgyu has had this conversation before. The day prior, Soobin had come to see him and asked him if he was interested in asking Seungkwan if he could set Beomgyu up with one of his graduated friends.

Beomgyu knows what Yeonjun’s going to say—that in order to forget about the bitterness of having ended a relationship, it’ll be good for him if he starts meeting new people. 

“I’m not saying this so that you replace Donghyuck with someone else,” Yeonjun clarifies before Beomgyu can question his suggestion. 

Kai and Taehyun suggested something similar, along the lines of there’s plenty of fish in the sea and that he needs to, once again, have fun. 

“So… What should I do, exactly?” Beomgyu asks. 

“You don’t need to do anything,” Yeonjun reassures. “Just stay open to the possibilities.” 

The possibilities, Yeonjun says but doesn’t elaborate. Then, when they find themselves in the same house they were at three weeks ago when Beomgyu had first told Yeonjun about his and Donghyuck’s breakup—that’s when Beomgyu understands what he meant. 

The guy that approached him the very next minute Yeonjun left his side is nice. He’s handsome too, perhaps not really Beomgyu’s type, but handsome nonetheless. He’s been doing all the talking which Beomgyu thinks it’s okay because he really doesn’t know what to say to him. They have different majors—a bummer, especially when Beomgyu knows nothing about economy and finds rather boring anything related to it. 

Now that Beomgyu thinks about it, there’s nothing interesting about this guy. Sure, he’s cute, but that doesn’t make it for Beomgyu. The conversation has gotten too deep into something Beomgyu can’t even pronounce that he’s about to give up when the guy asks him if he wants to go somewhere else more private. 

At least it gets interesting, but then Beomgyu is faced with something that never crossed his mind until now that the cute guy he’s been talking to for the past hour has his tongue shoved into his mouth. This is when Beomgyu realizes that the guy, although handsome, not only has nothing in common with him but also is the worst kisser in the world. 

“You’re so pretty, I noticed you the moment you stepped into the house,” the guy says against Beomgyu’s lips before diving back into his mouth. 

Beomgyu stops him by putting his hands in front of him as a shield. “That’s—thank you,” he titters. He doesn’t know what else to say. Beomgyu checks his phone in a rapid motion before the guy can lean again and make him go through his torture of a kiss. 

“Everything all right?” he asks, and Beomgyu thinks of the lamest, most unoriginal excuse. 

“Yeah, I just, you know, I kinda have to go,” he says apologetic, feigning disappointment. 

It’s not even midnight. 

The guy looks at him with disappointment too. “Oh, that’s a bummer. You barely got here.” 

“Yeah, well—”

“Can I have your name, though?” 

Beomgyu freezes. Fuck. 

“Oh, I don’t remember it, I’m sorry,” he says, too nice to say no to someone, or perhaps he’s just a coward. “But here, write yours. I’ll call you,” he says as convincingly as possible.

He hands his phone and the guy takes it victoriously, a smile on his face as he types down his number on Beomgyu’s phone. 

“Here, don’t forget to call me, yeah?” 

The guy kisses him goodbye and Beomgyu runs. He may have been good with numbers but he was definitely not good at reading people because only an idiot would believe Beomgyu will call him back.

The good thing is that it worked. The bad thing is that now Beomgyu needs to actually leave before the guy finds him and tries to kiss him again. Or worse, confront him about lying. 

It’s difficult to find someone who can hide him; Kai and Taehyun always find the way to get lost in parties because they get enthusiastic about it the first hour and then they dread the idea of having to put up with drunk people and loud music. 

Beomgyu’s about to text them when he catches Yeonjun at a corner. 

“Hyung—” It’s when Beomgyu gets closer to him that he realizes Yeonjun is not alone, that there is a guy with him. “Oh, uhm…”

Both Yeonjun and the guy turn to look at him. The guy is shorter than Yeonjun, even so than Beomgyu. It only takes one look at his face to know he’s Yeonjun’s type, despite his height. Fuck his height; his height might be a plus—Yeonjun has a tendency for guys shorter and smaller than him and it doesn’t go unnoticed for Beomgyu. Overall, the guy is a potential hookup. It wouldn’t be strange if Yeonjun was planning on taking him home tonight.

Beomgyu is about to take a step back when Yeonjun turns to him completely. “Hey, you okay?” His tone suddenly brims with worry, interrupting Beomgyu’s train of thought. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you were busy,” he replies bashfully, already shifting in his tracks to go somewhere else. 

“It’s fine,” Yeonjun shrugs the matter off. He looks at the guy standing next to him and offers him a bow, as if to excuse himself. “Call you later?” Yeonjun asks him and the guy just nods at him sweetly and leaves, waving goodbye to Beomgyu, too. 

“Who was that?” Beomgyu blurts out, regretting it immediately after the words come out of his mouth. 

“Wooyoung, I’ve told you about him before,” Beomgyu makes a mental effort to try to remember. Yeonjun has told him about so many people, too many to keep count. He nods, pretending he does remember. “Anyway, what’s up? Are you okay?” 

“I made out with that guy,” Beomgyu tells him. 

“Oh, great!” Yeonjun chirps. 

“It was terrible.” 

“Oh, not so great,” Yeonjun’s expression morphs into something else; eyebrows frowning and lips forming into a little pout, like he truly laments Beomgyu’s stroke of bad luck. 

Had he known that kissing random people at a party would turn out as disastrous as this, Beomgyu would’ve never listened to Yeonjun in the first place. He encouraged Beomgyu to give the guy a chance when they noticed him staring at Beomgyu. 

“So, like, what do you want to do now?” Yeonjun prompts him, waiting for Beomgyu and his final say. 

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu rubs his face, not knowing what to do really. “I think I want to go home.” And Yeonjun doesn’t question him, never does. 

They leave the house and stand on the sidewalk as Yeonjun calls for a taxi. 

“It says it’ll arrive in approximately five minutes,” he announces, shoving his phone into his pocket. 

“Thank you,” Beomgyu mutters. Yeonjun stares at him curious, a bit giddy, as if he wants to ask something. “What?”

“It really was that bad?” He asks, talking about the guy Beomgyu kissed.

Beomgyu wants the earth to swallow him in embarrassment. “I mean, he was fine, like, handsome and all. But he kissed as if he wanted to suck the life out of me, and not in a sexy way. It was bad bad.” 

Yeonjun cackles at it despite Beomgyu’s bitterness. The good thing is that it makes Beomgyu laugh at his own misfortune too. 

“On a scale of one to ten?” 

“What?” 

“On a scale of one to ten,” Yeonjun says again, one step closer to Beomgyu. “How bad was it?” 

“I don’t know, hyung, a four maybe?” Beomgyu says, unsure. He recalls the kiss. It was harsh, awkward, a bit inexperienced, absolutely terrible. He shakes his head. “No, that’s being too generous. It was definitely a three.” 

Yeonjun whistles and his brows shoot up in shock.  “What about other people you’ve kissed?” 

Beomgyu has kissed a total of four people in his life, the first one being a girl in sixth grade whose face or name Beomgyu doesn’t remember anymore. It was a simple peck, but that’s how Beomgyu realized he liked boys because he couldn’t picture himself doing the same with another girl. His second kiss was in senior year in high school and it was a true kiss, one that confirmed his suspicions. 

Then came Donghyuck—no need to elaborate on it—and then this guy whose contact number Beomgyu saved on his phone and which he makes a mental note to delete later.

The more he thinks about it, the more Beomgyu begins to feel Yeonjun’s question is a bit strange, like it carries an underlying meaning that Beomgyu is yet to find out. It’s like Yeonjun wants to know—find out something more than just Beomgyu’s experience on kissing people.

“Donghyuck was the best; a seven, maybe. I don’t really know. It’s not like I’ve kissed too many to compare,” Beomgyu explains. 

At that point, Beomgyu doesn’t know what is going on anymore. The only thing he knows is that Yeonjun shows him a playful grin as he puts his hand on Beomgyu’s nape, tugging slightly. His fingers go down and massage the cervical area of his spine to then move along the curve of his shoulder, back and forth. 

“Beomgyu-yah,” Yeonjun says, “you’re always so tense or nervous. Relax a little, would you?” 

Yeonjun always does this, caress Beomgyu’s head or neck unconsciously. Before, Beomgyu thought it was just something Yeonjun liked to do to anyone; Soobin, Kai, Taehyun, and other people. One day, as he paid attention to every move Yeonjun made, he realized this is something he exclusively does with him, no one else. 

Beomgyu doesn’t find it particularly strange, just normal, common. Except that now this feels anything but. Yeonjun’s eyes are fixed on Beomgyu and the movement of the hand on his shoulder begins to feel more like an alluring ministration than just a poor intent of making Beomgyu feel less tense. 

Beomgyu has thoughts. He’s just too afraid to voice them out. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Yeonjun leans in, careful not to scare Beomgyu away, as if giving him the time and chance to say no. Beomgyu could say no. Instead, he closes his eyes and gives in to whatever Yeonjun has prepared for him. 

Kissing Yeonjun for the first time is a whole new experience and it freaks him out. Not for the act itself, but because it’s Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun is confident and has experience. He’s met many people before—dated many people before, and although Beomgyu has never seen him going out with the same person more than twice, he understands why people always come back. 

The kiss Yeonjun gives him is short, borderline shallow at first. His tongue barely touches Beomgyu’s, sweet and cautious as if tasting the waters. Then, as Beomgyu doesn’t push him back and responds to the kiss instead, it’s when everything intensifies. 

Yeonjun kisses him slowly and hotly. His tongue doesn’t dive completely into Beomgyu’s mouth, just the necessary for Beomgyu to taste it, get used to the feeling, enjoy it. It’s wet, sweet and fresh; Yeonjun’s mouth tastes like the alcohol he drank and the cigarette he smoked, and everything mixes deliciously and surprisingly well in Beomgyu’s mouth. 

It’s unreal the way this is happening now, and it’s unreal for Beomgyu to feel the way he’s feeling now: light-headed, dizzy, extremely nervous because it’s Yeonjun and Beomgyu doesn’t want to ruin it, whatever that means. But Yeonjun is kissing him and he’s kissing Yeonjun back. 

When they part, Yeonjun retrieves his hand from Beomgyu’s neck to place it on his cheek instead. 

“What about that one?” he asks Beomgyu, smiling sweetly at him.  “Was it better than a seven?” 

“Yes, yes it was,” Beomgyu replies breathless, still processing everything. 

The headlights of a car hit just on Yeonjun’s face, revealing his flushed cheeks and his shiny lips, all a product of the kiss. 

“The car is here,” says Beomgyu, in hopes that Yeonjun either gets in the car with him or tells him to stay. 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun replies and then they both get in the car.

Beomgyu’s been in Yeonjun’s apartment many times before. 

Yeonjun likes company and Beomgyu likes Yeonjun’s company. Yeonjun invites him over to watch anything that piques their attention; invites him to share a drink or two, or even to have dinner together.

One time, Beomgyu had dinner at Yeonjun’s apartment for an entire week because Yeonjun was trying out his cooking skills in order to impress a guy he was seeing. That was the closest Yeonjun was to settle with someone. 

In comparison to him, Yeonjun lives alone while Beomgyu is stuck sharing an apartment with Soobin and, sometimes, Soobin’s boyfriend as well. 

The thing is, he’s been in Yeonjun’s apartment many times before, nothing weird about it. It’s just that this time it’s completely different because in none of the previous occasions did Beomgyu straddle Yeonjun and roll his hips like he is doing now. If Beomgyu thought kissing Yeonjun had left him all light-headed, what they’re doing now is going to knock him out completely. 

Yeonjun isn’t just a good friend and an excellent kisser, he’s also super good with his hands. Not like he’s been touching Beomgyu’s dick—at least not properly. Either way, every time he rubs the tent on Beomgyu’s pants, he can’t help but to let out a strangled moan and move his hips harder, grazing Yeonjun’s crotch at the same time. 

“Hyung, ah,” Beomgyu whimpers when Yeonjun runs one of his hands across the expanse of his back, sending shivers down Beomgyu’s spine. The goosebumps are so intense that Beomgyu can picture the hair on his arms rising up. 

“‘S all okay?” Yeonjun whispers against his chest, his breath hitting against the skin. “We can stop if it’s too much. Just tell me and we’ll stop.” 

Beomgyu holds onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly as if to keep Yeonjun still, not letting him go. “N-no, it feels good.” Beomgyu feels as if he was drunk or high, as if there was a haze clouding his mind; there aren’t many thoughts in his brain. The feeling, though, that’s a unique thing, something he doesn’t think he’s felt before, not even with Donghyuck. 

Perhaps it’s the idea of doing it with Yeonjun, who’s supposed to be his friend and his friend only, not more than that. Somewhere deep and at the back of his head, Beomgyu knows this shouldn’t be happening. He kisses Yeonjun fervently regardless, and Yeonjun reciprocates him with the same intensity, touching him all over, everywhere his hands can reach. 

They’re not even fully naked—Beomgyu kept his pants and so did Yeonjun. Still, Beomgyu grinds against him and the pressure is strong enough to cause the friction to make them gasp in delight, like this is the world’s greatest pleasure. At the time he comes, he does it in his pants and digging his nails into the flesh of Yeonjun’s shoulders, holding onto him as his orgasm dissipates. 

Beomgyu lies beside Yeonjun, still panting and trying to recover from the high when Yeonjun gets up from the couch and disappears into the apartment. He comes back after a couple of minutes, carrying a pair of sweatpants and hands them to Beomgyu. 

“I know they look bigger, but I’m sure they will fit you,” Yeonjun tells him with a smile. Beomgyu looks down at the big wet patch in his pants and is hit with sudden shame. 

“Thank you,” he mutters and basically runs to the bathroom to get changed. He washes himself and puts on the pants Yeonjun gave to him, discarding his own clothes on the floor. He doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Beomgyu washes his face and stares at himself in the mirror, sobered up, and that’s when it dawns on him. It dawns on Beomgyu that he not only kissed Yeonjun in public, on the street outside the party, but he spent the last 10 minutes dry humping him on the same couch they watch Riverdale when boredom is bigger than them. His stomach drops, his cheeks go red and suddenly he doesn’t want to leave the bathroom ever again. 

He does leave the bathroom, eventually. If he thought things would’ve turned weird after what they did, staying in the bathroom for longer than normal would definitely raise some suspicions. 

“Uhm,” Beomgyu leaves the bathroom holding his dirty clothes in one hand.

Yeonjun, sitting on the couch, looks up from his phone and glances at Beomgyu. Beomgyu notices that he also changed his clothes, putting similar sweatpants on and a different t-shirt from the one he was wearing for the party. “Oh, just leave those in the laundry basket,” he says, “I’ll give them back to you once they’re clean.”

The basket is empty, no clothes inside whatsoever. Yeonjun probably did his laundry already. Beomgyu folds both his underwear and pants together, trying to hide the stain of cum from sight and places them in the basket. He stares at it for a moment, pondering whether he should just leave now and take his clothes with him too. 

Beomgyu rubs his eyes. He’s overthinking. Yeonjun hasn’t moved from the couch and he seems pretty chill about the whole thing. And if Yeonjun is okay with it, Beomgyu might as well be okay with it, too.

Yeonjun pats the spot beside him on the couch, beckoning Beomgyu to sit with him. Beomgyu complies without questioning, but he stares at Yeonjun not knowing what to say or do.

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun speaks first. 

And Beomgyu says, “Yes,” but he doesn’t mean it, really. It surprises him his own capacity to not look like he’s gone crazy on the outside when the only thing he hears in his head is sirens. Yeonjun squints at him, though, like he can see through him. “Alright, I don’t really know.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yeojun tells him, sounding genuine, like he truly is sorry.

“No, don’t be. I mean, we both did this, so…” Beomgyu muses, and he feels guilty for making Yeonjun feel bad about this, like it’s his fault when in reality it’s no one’s.

Still, this is something that shouldn’t have happened. There’s no use in discussing this and apologizing because what’s done is done. It’s not like Beomgyu fully regrets it either, but he doesn’t really know. It’s very complex. What he does know is that the last thing he wants is to make Yeonjun feel guilty for this. 

“It’s okay, hyung. And I’m sorry, too. I got carried away, it won’t happen again.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t let him say anything more or continue the conversation. There’s an unreadable look on Yeonjun’s face but then he just nods along like he agrees, like he’s okay with it and that’s it. 

It won’t happen again.

It does happen again two weeks later. 

They’re in Yeonjun’s apartment and everything is normal; just them hanging out as friends like they always do. Yeonjun gives Beomgyu his clean clothes back to him and Beomgyu feels something akin to shame and endearment. Shame because he can’t believe he actually got Yeonjun washing his dirty clothes and that he’s okay with it, but perhaps that’s why Beomgyu feels so endeared by it. Yeonjun washed his clothes without problem, and when he hands Beomgyu his clean clothes, they smell the same as Yeonjun’s clothes. 

“Thank you, hyung,” Beomgyu smiles shyly. 

“No problem,” Yeonjun tells him casually. But then he does what he always does, putting his hand on Beomgyu’s neck, massage Beomgyu’s nape with his fingers, and that’s probably the catalyst for everything. 

This is a bad idea, Beomgyu thinks as Yeonjun leaves wet kisses on his neck in one moment and open-mouthed ones in the next. Key word being thinks, because the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he speaks as Yeonjun strokes the head of his cock is, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Beomgyu feels like he has ascended but melted into the mattress at the same time, feeling like he’s floating but the mattress keeps swallowing him entirely as he stares at the ceiling. There’s cum on his belly and Yeonjun has left the room for a minute. 

This is a bad idea, Beomgyu keeps thinking, but it feels so good. He’s so screwed. 

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Yeonjun says when he comes back. Beomgyu doesn’t spare him a glance, but he hears his friend sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to do it for you?” Beomgyu lifts his gaze and catches Yeonjun holding a wet towel. 

“I can do it,” he says, grabbing the towel and passing it over him, taking off the remains of cum off his own belly. Yeonjun stares at him as he does. 

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Yeonjun prods him. He doesn’t sound like he’s pressuring Beomgyu. It sounds like he’s just curious, and that if Beomgyu decides not to tell him, he won’t insist. 

“It was good,” Beomgyu simply says. “You’re good.” 

“Alright, and the bad part?” He asks then and Beomgyu looks at him confused. 

“Bad part?” Beomgyu holds the towel in his hands once he’s finished in order to not leave a wet patch on the sheets, even if they’re already dirty. 

“You’re complimenting me, but still it sounds like there’s the other side of the coin or whatever,” Yeonjun says. Suddenly, Beomgyu’s stomach drops. 

“Ah,” is all he says in the meantime. He wishes he didn’t have to be the party pooper and ruin all the fun, but in his defense, Yeonjun prompted this conversation first. Despite feeling extremely unsure and weird about this, Beomgyu knows this isn’t something they can just let it pass and act like it never happened. It has happened twice, it’s not an accident anymore. 

He garners all the courage he can before he says, “We said that this was not gonna happen again.” 

Yeonjun nods at him in understanding. “Yet it happened again,” he continues, knowing immediately what Beomgyu means by it. “It’s not a big deal, is it?” 

“It is not?” 

“Of course not,” Yeonjun smiles and reaches out to caress Beomgyu’s shin deliberately. “It’s not a big deal for me, it doesn’t have to be for you either.” 

This is something Yeonjun has always been—chill and carefree. For him, everything has a solution. He doesn’t get overwhelmed by things easily, and maybe that’s exactly why he just goes with the flow, whatever it is. Yeonjun is super confident too, hence why he’s so sure that this isn’t as big of a deal as Beomgyu thinks it is.

It’s not like Yeonjun is minimizing Beomgyu’s concerns, it’s just that he truly thinks it’s not something to worry about. 

“Look, nothing has to change,” he says when Beomgyu doesn’t say anything. Yeonjun always speaks again whenever he notices Beomgyu is thinking or overthinking more than he should. He purses his lips for a moment before he corrects himself, “nothing will change. We’re still friends, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I still want you to meet other people, date and all that stuff.” 

“What about us hooking up?” Beomgyu asks, not because he has a specific position toward that. He just wants to know where do they stand. 

“We can have that too, if you want,” Yeonjun smiles at him. He keeps stroking Beomgyu’s shin; Beomgyu feels the hair of his leg rise up due to the friction. 

All things considered, it should be okay. That’s how it always works for them apparently: Beomgyu has a problem, Yeonjun has the solution for it. Beomgyu is worried, Yeonjun eases his concerns. Beomgyu fears something could go wrong, Yeonjun tells him everything will be fine. 

“I’m sorry I made everything awkward,” Beomgyu says apologetically, averting his gaze to the towel in his hands that’s still damp but has gone warm. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t,” Yeonjun says, reassuring. He sits closer to Beomgyu and reaches out, briefly caressing Beomgyu’s nape and then retrieves his hand completely off him. 

Beomgyu throws him a look and keeps it until Yeonjun looks back at him quizzically. 

“You always do that.” 

“I always do what?”

“This,” Beomgyu says and leans to do the same with Yeonjun—puts his hand on his neck, his fingers caressing the back area of Yeonjun’s head and massaging with the same care Yeonjun always does. 

Yeonjun opens his mouth in an ‘o’ shape, nodding as realization hits. 

“Does it bother you?” 

“No, I actually like it,” Beomgyu replies but immediately regrets it because what does that say about him? “I mean, I also noticed you do that only with me, as far as I know.” 

“Oh, really?” Yeonjun asks with surprise. “I wasn’t aware of that, but it’s good that you told me. I’ll keep that in mind from now on.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t know if Yeonjun means that he will keep in mind the gesture itself and that Beomgyu likes it; that he only does it with Beomgyu, or that he will start doing it with other people. He doesn’t ask and it doesn’t matter. 

What truly matters is this: he’s okay. Yeonjun is okay, and they both are okay. Beomgyu’s glad they ended up talking about it. Otherwise, that would’ve made everything awkward, Beomgyu’s sure of that. He himself almost made everything awkward. 

Yeonjun tells Beomgyu to stay for dinner and Beomgyu stays. They make themselves comfortable, keep watching Yeonjun’s ridiculous TV show and Beomgyu doesn’t think about how this couch was the victim of their first hook up. If anything, the only thing he thinks about is how grateful he is for Yeonjun to be the way he is. 

Just like Yeonjun said, nothing changes. 

Beomgyu keeps going to his apartment and both spend time together as friends, just like they’ve always done. Sometimes Beomgyu stays the night and the only thing they do is order delivery food, pick a show and keep watching it where they left off. 

Sometimes Beomgyu stays the night and the only thing they do is make out and get each other off.

“And you’re okay with that?” Soobin asks him incredulously. His head peeks from the bathroom where he’s drying his hair. 

Beomgyu doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading. “Of course I am,” he says, “do you think I would’ve accepted if I wasn’t?” 

Soobin turns the lights off and leaves the bathroom. His feet make a soft noise when they graze the carpet underneath as he walks toward the sofa. He sits on the spot beside Beomgyu, arms crossed and staring at him as if he was studying him. 

“It seems like you’re the one who’s not okay with that,” Beomgyu points out when Soobin just sits there, looking at him in an uncomfortable silence. “Just say it, whatever you have to say.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” says Soobin. Then he adds, “It’s just… You and Yeonjun.” 

Beomgyu looks up at him, closing the book with a thud and placing it on his lap. “Me and Yeonjun what?” 

“I never imagined you two together.” 

“We’re not together,” Beomgyu clarifies. 

From this moment onwards he needs to make one thing clear, and that thing is that what he and Yeonjun are doing couldn’t be further from them being together as a couple. Yeonjun keeps seeing other people, which Beomgyu is okay with because exclusivity is not part of their deal, if there’s any. 

Beomgyu could see other people too, if he was interested, which he is. It’s something he’s been pondering ever since he and Yeonjun had that conversation almost two months ago. Even if he hasn’t made any move yet, he feels like he’s gained some kind of confidence. Besides, he doesn’t want Yeonjun to be the only person he sees because, well. It feels wrong, like it’s serious when it’s not. When they talk about this, Yeonjun is aways subtle and caring, and he remarks the words not exclusive and friends. 

That’s the whole point—that whatever they decide to do won’t stop them from being friends, whether that may be if they stop hooking up, or if they start seeing other people, in Beomgyu’s case. 

“Then what? You will keep doing this for how long?” Soobin questions him, jerking a brow. “Until you find someone?” 

Beomgyu isn’t sure what Soobin means by finding someone, but he assumes it’s something like Beomgyu settling with someone as he did with Donghyuck; a serious, established relationship. 

“It’s not that serious, we’re just having fun, hyung,” Beomgyu tells him. “We’re just… Letting things flow, I don’t know.” 

“Yeonjun has dated many people,” Soobin adds, like it’s some kind of new information that Beomgyu didn’t know before, which would be a complete lie because if there’s anyone in the group that knows about Yeonjun’s flings, that’s Beomgyu. That he doesn’t remember all of them is a different story.

Soobin’s comment leaves him pondering, though. Beomgyu has never really thought over that before, it has always been Yeonjun’s second nature basically, and Beomgyu doesn’t judge him for that. 

“You’re either implying that I don’t have as much experience as him, or that he will give me an STD, which I’ll take both as a personal offense,” he says back, and Soobin throws him an horrified look.

“No! I mean—” he falters, “okay, look. You know him better than me. I trust that you’re aware of what you’re doing and I especially trust that you know how to handle this.”

“Hyung,” Beomgyu utters like he finds Soobin’s remark ridiculously obvious. “Of course, I know that. ” 

He knows where they stand on all this. They spoke about it, came to an agreement and all. It is really not that serious. 

Soobin just stares at him in silence, like he’s thinking over but still not fully convinced. Beomgyu can’t do anything about it, that’s on Soobin and Soobin only. 

“Alright,” he finally says after a pause. He raises his hands in surrender. “I won’t question any of this anymore. I trust you.” 

“Thank you.” 

Soobin pats his knee before standing up from the couch and walk toward the kitchen. He opens the fridge and stares at the inside for a minute and then closes it, turning around to look at Beomgyu. 

“Let’s eat order something for dinner,” he suggests, as if there’s no other solution rather than that. 

Beomgyu sighs. “We shouldn’t rely too much on Seungkwan hyung,” he says walking toward the kitchen too. He leaves the phone on the counter with the delivery app on for him and Soobin to take a look at food options. 

Soobin’s soon-to-be independent and graduated boyfriend cooks for them most of the time when he stays over at their apartment, which is two to three—sometimes four—days a week. 

“Yeah, I can’t live without him,” Soobin confesses before tapping on something that piqued his attention. 

Soobin can live without Seungkwan. He’s the most independent person Beomgyu has ever met, even if it doesn’t show. It’s nothing new and he doesn’t say it out loud, but Beomgyu has always thought fondly of Soobin’s relationship with Seungkwan. 

Perhaps he can have something similar one day.

Donghyuck reappears in the form of a text message three hours before Beomgyu is supposed to leave for Yeonjun’s apartment. 

It’s so sudden and unexpected that Beomgyu doesn’t know how to feel about it. Donghyuck broke up with him two months ago, gave no detailed explanations whatsoever and never spoke to him again after that. It was like they never knew each other. 

Beomgyu has to take a seat and think through it, ponder over whether he wants to see him or not. He writes down Donghyuck’s name on Instagram and checks his profile, as if that will help him understand what Donghyuck could possibly want. 

Donghyuck didn’t post for over a month. Then there is a post of him with his parents and then another with friends, some of whom Beomgyu got to meet before they broke up. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he looks happy. Maybe he is happy, but Beomgyu couldn’t say. 

What should he do? Donghyuck wrote to him fifteen minutes ago, but Beomgyu agreed to meet Yeonjun in the evening. It’s so unfortunate that he’s alone; Soobin has gone out and Beomgyu doesn’t want to ruin his date. He doesn’t want to tell Yeonjun about this either—not now, at least. 

The text is still there, sitting at the top of his screen. Beomgyu opens it and reads through it. He thinks about it for a moment. 

Then he leaves.

“Hey, I was about to call you,” Yeonjun tells him when he opens the door of his apartment. “I thought you were not coming.” 

Beomgyu steps into the apartment, takes off his shoes and puts on the same slippers he always wears when he’s in Yeonjun’s apartment. 

“I’m only half an hour late, hyung,” he grins. 

“Yeah, but you’re always on time,” Yeonjun points out, not accusatory. Beomgyu believes he catches him faltering but doesn’t add anything. 

“I’m sorry,” he pouts, and it elicits a groan from Yeonjun which makes him feel like he’s had a victory. Beomgyu recently found out the power of pouting, using it against Yeonjun every time he wants to get away with something. Yeonjun likes it, that’s why it’s so hard for him to look at Beomgyu every time he does it, giving him those puppy eyes and his lips curled downwards in a cute, teasing way. “I had to do something.” 

“Okay…” Yeonjun’s brows shoot up in curiosity. He glances at the kitchen and looks back at Beomgyu. Beckoning in the direction of the kitchen, he says, “You can tell me about it, if you want to, as we cook for dinner. Is that okay?” 

They don’t really talk about it when they cook. They don’t talk about it either when they’re eating; Beomgyu’s still processing everything and needs a moment to distract himself and let his meeting with Donghyuck sink in for a bit. Yeonjun understands, even if he doesn’t know anything about it. He always respects Beomgyu’s space and times, and Beomgyu’s always grateful for that. 

Leaving aside the fact that they, sometimes, hook up, Beomgyu finds comfort in moments like this. Yeonjun beside him on the couch, leaned more to Beomgyu’s side as some kind of pillar for Beomgyu to rely on as they watch something on the TV that can ease Beomgyu’s thoughts. 

“I didn’t think you’d like this kind of stuff,” Beomgyu comments as they watch two doctors argue in the emergency stairs area. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Yeonjun replies, glancing at Beomgyu for a short moment before returning his gaze to the screen.

“It’s corny and cliche,” Beomgyu states. 

Yeonjun gasps beside him, pressing a button to pause the episode. The image stops right on the second one of the doctors leans in and kisses the other. “I will not allow you to call Christina and Burke corny and cliche.” 

“Hyung, look at them! The guy has just said the corniest lines I’ve ever heard, and then he goes and kisses her, without her consent, by the way,” Beomgyu points out. 

Yeonjun stares at him for a moment and then presses his back against the couch, crossing his arms as if Beomgyu’s comment upset him. “Well, I like them,” he huffs. He’s not upset for real. Beomgyu knows that perfectly well. Yeonjun is just dramatic sometimes. 

“That’s fine.” Beomgyu tells him. They both look at the paused image on the screen. The title of the episode says S2EP1: ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head’. “How did you start watching this, anyway?” 

Yeonjun’s demeanor quickly soothes, and he shifts in his seat again, unconsciously increasing the distance between him and Beomgyu on the couch. “Wooyoung recommended it to me. He’s on season 11 already. Can you believe that?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t know why, but his stomach does a weird flip at the mention of Wooyoung’s name. 

Wooyoung is technically one of the only people who has had something with Yeonjun and still is friends with him. Beomgyu assumes it’s something akin to what he and Yeonjun have, but slightly different. He can’t tell where the difference lies, though. He doesn’t know what kind of relationship they have in detail because Yeonjun usually just mentions him in this context and Beomgyu is too much of a coward to ask him about it. 

When the episode ends in the most dramatic and predictable way possible, Yeonjun takes a break and offers Beomgyu a beer as he walks to the fridge. They don’t always drink alcohol when they’re together, but it certainly helps them loosen up a bit. 

Beomgyu’s about to finish his can when he tells Yeonjun about Donghyuck. Yeonjun seemingly holds his breath for a second, like he truly wasn’t expecting that. 

“Is that why you were late?” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, apologetic. “I’m sorry, by the way. I should’ve sent you a message or something.” 

“No, it’s okay, I understand.” Yeonjun reassures him by patting his knee. “So, what happened?” 

Too much happened, Beomgyu wants to say, but that would be a lie. In hindsight, nothing much happened. Donghyuck invited him for a coffee, sat down at one of the vacant tables in the coffee shop and tried to maintain a simple conversation until the big elephant in the room became too big to ignore. 

“He apologized,” Beomgyu summarizes. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” Yeonjun tells him, sounding optimistic, like he’s seeing the bright side of things. 

Donghyuck didn’t just apologize. He did more than that, hence why they stayed at the coffee shop for more than Beomgyu should have. They talked non-stop for two hours; Beomgyu felt the need to tear up a bit when he saw Donghyuck hold back his tears, too. He doesn’t even know why they felt like that, but Beomgyu assumes it was too overwhelming for both in different ways. Donghyuck was going through a hard time. Beomgyu understands it, but he feels bad that Donghyuck felt the need and moral obligation to give Beomgyu an explanation when sometimes things just happen. 

Life happens. 

It doesn’t make Beomgyu sad that Donghyuck broke up with him. What makes him sad is knowing Donghyuck didn’t feel like he could rely on him, even if they were dating. It shouldn’t be taken that personal, but Beomgyu can’t help but to question other people’s perception of him, how they see him. He wonders what Soobin thinks of him, or Taehyun and Kai, what they think of him. 

Even Yeonjun. What must he think of Beomgyu?

“You did nothing wrong, Beomgyu-yah,” Yeonjun reassures him then, gripping his shoulder, softly and caring, like he’s heard every single thought running in Beomgyu’s mind. “He told you that, right?”

“But why do I feel the opposite?” 

“What you feel is valid, I think everyone would feel that way, too,” Yeonjun replies, soothing the pain. “But what he felt is valid, too, and as much as your mind tries to convince you otherwise, his decision had nothing to do with you.” 

It’s amazing how Yeonjun can understand it easier than him, even if it’s because he’s seeing everything from an outsider’s point of view. It helps Beomgyu understand it easier, too—that other people’s decisions are not his fault. 

At the coffee shop, Donghyuck had told him he was sorry that he ended things that way, that Beomgyu deserved better than that. He was also sorry for all the time he remained silent, and that it took him so long to reach out. 

“He told me he was thankful, though,” Beomgyu remembers. “For not going after him, for giving him the space he needed. For understanding.” 

Before Beomgyu left, Donghyuck held his hand and said, “You are a good person, Beomgyu. I can’t ask anything from you, but I want you to know I appreciate you a lot, and that I hope we can be friends someday.” 

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Yeonjun asks him. 

“No,” Beomgyu shakes his head, completely sure of his answer. He stopped having romantic feelings for Donghyuck a long time ago. What was hammering at the back of his head was the sense of lack of closure. 

Having met with Donghyuck at that little coffee shop gave him the closure he needed. Donghyuck needs to figure out a couple of things in his life, but Beomgyu’s up to help him in the process, be with him because Beomgyu’s got love for him still, even if it’s not romantic anymore.

“You are a good person, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says as a reminder, caressing his cheek; words brimming with love, caressing his heart. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything else. He snuggles against Yeonjun on the couch, muttering a thank you. And feeling at ease and safe, he falls asleep like that. 

Something shifts that night, though. Later he realizes that closure was really all he needed, and suddenly, he doesn’t feel like he carries anything on his back anymore. 

Something shifts that night, and several nights after that, following a rather heated make out session in Yeonjun’s kitchen, Beomgyu and him sleep together for the first time. Yeonjun tries to take things slow at first, and to put it in simple words, as cliche as it may sound, Beomgyu feels like he’s in heaven. 

Having passed to a new ‘level’ in their ambiguous friendship—as Soobin would call it—they start doing it more often than not because once you taste something as pleasurable as good sex, it’s like you can’t forbid yourself from tasting it ever again. Not like Beomgyu or Yeonjun complain anyway.

Because the sex is good. Terrifically so. 

Beomgyu had thought sex with Donghyuck was good because Donghyuck was good, but now that he’s experiencing it with someone new and it feels so magnificent, he wonders whether he thought it was good with Donghyuck because it was strictly related to the fact that there were feelings involved. 

Soobin never looks at Beomgyu when he’s thinking of an answer. After a long pause, and still looking at some specific point near Beomgyu’s head, he says, “I don’t really know what to say.”

“But what do you think,” Beomgyu prompts, “is sex with Seungkwan hyung good because he is good in bed? Or is it because you’re deeply in love with him?” 

Soobin scratches his head, thinking. Beomgyu leans in and squints his eyes at him. “Because you can tell the difference, right? You’ve had sex with other people, haven’t you?” 

“What are you saying? Of course I have, you brat,” Soobin jabs him in the ribs. Beomgyu squirms. “Look, I think there are shades; not everything is black and white. I think there is sex that’s objectively bad, and it’s easy to tell, especially if it’s casual and—why are you even asking me this?”

“Yeonjun and I started having sex,” Beomgyu deadpans and Soobin’s brows shoot up. 

“I thought you were having sex already?” 

“I mean, partially yes, but we were just, like, fooling around?” If making out and getting each other off is anything to go by. “Well, now we’ve started with the real thing.” Beomgyu cringes when he says that.  

In hindsight, he doesn’t know why they didn’t do it before. It’s been months since the very first time they even kissed. It’s like they unconsciously and with not apparent reason took their time, and that night it just happened. Naturally, smoothly, and it was so good — it still is. Beomgyu gets goosebumps every time he remembers the way Yeonjun kisses him when they have sex, or the way he touches him and all the things he says to him and—

“And how do you feel about it?” Soobin interrupts. 

“What do you think?” Beomgyu asks in return, as if the whole conversation hasn’t been a hint to what he’s feeling now. He doesn’t even know what he feels himself.

“Beomgyu, you’re not…” Soobin trails off, the words resting on the tip of his tongue that neither he nor Beomgyu dare to say. 

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu groans when he realizes. He rubs his face and leaves his hands there for a moment, mostly because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to see what looks Soobin is giving to him. “I think I’m confused.” 

Soobin whistles. “I bet you are,” he agrees, but doesn’t say anything else. Beomgyu is grateful. Sometimes Soobin knows when to shut up. 

Beomgyu reminisces the conversation he and Soobin had months ago, when he and Yeonjun had just started the whole friends with benefits thing. Soobin’s words had been crystal clear, and Beomgyu didn’t listen. Now he’s dealing with the consequences. 

But how does he really feel about Yeonjun? The more he thinks about it, he reaches two different conclusions: the first one being that Yeonjun is the only person Beomgyu has been with for months since he broke up with Donghyuck. He hasn’t even talked to other people. He’s grown so comfortable with Yeonjun that he hasn’t even thought of meeting or dating someone else, and that’s probably why he feels a bit confused. 

The second conclusion is more tragic and it absolutely can’t be. If there’s a tiny possibility that, for any reason, Beomgyu has started to fall for Yeonjun, that would be the end of him. And of their friendship. If, for any reason, that happened… 

Beomgyu blanches. Soobin looks at him like he’s getting ready to take him to the hospital. 

“Are you okay?”

“Maybe I should start dating other people,” Beomgyu blurts out.

Soobin jerks a brow. “I’m listening.”

“That’s it, I don’t have any reasons. I just think I should do that. The fact that I’ve been hanging out only with Yeonjun all these months got me spiraling. I should socialize more, meet other people...”

Soobin nods as he hums. Beomgyu stares at him, he doesn’t know why. Probably waiting to see if his friend has something else to say, something to suggest. Soobin always has something to say. Beomgyu waits for it. 

“Do you remember Seungkwan’s friend Jeonghan?” There it is. “Long, dark hair, perfect skin, really nice and polite? He was here once.” Beomgyu nods.

Of course he remembers. Seungkwan came with him once and Beomgyu kept him company in the living room while Soobin and Seungkwan argued and made up in Soobin’s room for something unimportant like all the other things they have fought about before. Beomgyu thought he was handsome. 

“Well, sometimes he asks about you,” Soobin says then, piquing Beomgyu’s interest.

“He does?” 

“Yeah, he said you were very nice to him. Seungkwan is pretty sure he’s into you.” 

Two days later, Soobin—although Beomgyu is pretty sure it’s Seungkwan—sets him up on a date with Yoon Jeonghan. Beomgyu checks his Instagram account when Jeonghan texts him amicably, stating the obvious, and after seeing most of his pictures Beomgyu can confirm that yes, he is indeed very handsome. 

Jeonghan invites him out on Friday and Beomgyu, although says yes, realizes later that Fridays are mostly the days he and Yeonjun have been meeting up in the last two months. Beomgyu doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to tell Yeonjun he’s busy, that he’s going out with someone else. It feels wrong in both ways: not meeting Yeonjun because of his date and struggling with telling him about it because it shouldn’t feel like it. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Yeonjun tells him through the phone. He doesn’t hesitate, and sounds rather chill about it. Beomgyu feels slightly disappointed. “Have fun then. We can finish season 5 another day.” 

Beomgyu snorts. “You will finish it on your own either way.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Yeonjun laughs and it’s the sweetest sound Beomgyu has ever heard through the phone. He hangs up after wishing Beomgyu good luck on his date, and for some reason, Beomgyu realizes that he has never truly gone out with Yeonjun as in on date.

Yoon Jeonghan looks even more handsome than Beomgyu remembered: long, dark hair, perfect skin, and a really nice face. 

Beomgyu notices that he’s slightly taller than him, but he doesn’t care about that and apparently, neither does Jeonghan. 

They have a difference of 6 years—5 years and 5 months, to be more specific, but that’s fine. Beomgyu has always had a tendency to be attracted to older people, something he hadn’t noticed until Yeonjun pointed it out once.

Jeonghan is also a Libra. Beomgyu doesn’t know what that means. Yeonjun is a Virgo, and Beomgyu wonders who of the two is more compatible with him. 

Talking with Jeonghan is one of the nicest things Beomgyu has done in a while. Jeonghan is a nice person, so polite and kind. He’s interesting and charming; every time he tells something to Beomgyu, Beomgyu leans his chin on the palm of his hand and listens to him, looks at him attentively. And thinks. 

He thinks about Yeonjun. 

Beomgyu thinks about Yeonjun and sees him sitting on the couch, finishing season 5 by himself of that drama with doctors or surgeons and their romantic affairs. He could be doing that, or he could be doing exactly the same, but in another scenario, Beomgyu pictures him with someone else—Wooyoung or any other person Yeonjun has been with before. 

Even if Beomgyu tries to concentrate and stare at pretty Jeonghan talk, he can only think about the possibility of Yeonjun being with someone else right now after Beomgyu ditched him for coming to this date. At this right moment, someone else could be sitting beside Yeonjun, on Beomgyu’s spot. 

Kissing Jeonghan doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t distract him, it doesn’t make him forget about Yeonjun. If anything, it makes him feel even worse—feeling guilty for doing something that he still doesn’t know whether he did it out of spite or not. Jeonghan is sweet and kind to him, and kissing him made Beomgyu realize that there is, in fact, something inside of him that leads him to Yeonjun every time. 

“I understand,” Jeonghan says when Beomgyu apologizes to him. He smiles at him sweetly, implicitly saying everything’s fine, and Beomgyu feels slightly relieved. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu replies apologetically. “I feel like I made you waste your time.”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “You didn’t. It was nice to meet you in, say, another context?” Beomgyu nods. “Anyway, I had fun. And in any case you’re interested, I would love to hang out again. As friends, of course,” he says then, smiling brightly. 

“I think I would like that,” Beomgyu replies to him and gives him a hug before saying goodbye and getting in the taxi. 

When he gets home, Soobin is asleep on the couch and Beomgyu covers him with a blanket in the same way Soobin does when Beomgyu is the one falling asleep on the couch after battling an hectic day. 

There are no new texts from Yeonjun. Beomgyu checks his Instagram just to see if he was up to something while he was on the date, but the last story he uploaded was hours before Beomgyu even talked to him on the phone. 

It’s a bit of a relief, Beomgyu thinks. Still, he goes to bed and tries to fall asleep as quickly as possible so he doesn’t start overthinking and putting all possibilities on the table. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore—at least not now. 

A day later, Beomgyu starts spiraling. 

Yeonjun hasn’t texted him yet, and there’s actually no sign of life and Beomgyu begins to ponder whether Yeonjun is, by any chance, upset with him. He writes Yeonjun a message and it takes him 10 minutes to finally garner the courage and press the send button. 

Hours later, when there’s still no response, Beomgyu makes a decision. It’s risky and there are multiple chances and multiple reasons as to why Yeonjun didn’t reply to him and why he hasn’t shown any signs of life since they talked on the phone, but Beomgyu finds himself knocking on Yeonjun’s door anyway. 

He knocks three times first and waits. Knocks three times again. Waits. The third time, he only knocks twice, and just when he’s about to turn around and leave with a dark cloud of fear and disappointment looming over him, the door to Yeonjun’s apartment opens. 

“Beomgyu?” The door is ajar, Beomgyu can’t see Yeonjun’s face very well, but the way he speaks tells everything Beomgyu needs to know. “What are you doing here?” 

Yeonjun opens the door a bit more, as if showing himself and now Beomgyu can see him really. He’s wearing something akin to an old pajamas and a worn out gray hoodie; eyes red and swollen, and his voice sounds groggy and raspy.

“You were not answering my texts,” Beomgyu says. “I got worried.” 

It’s after he said that that Beomgyu caught himself: will Yeonjun get mad over him showing up without any notice? There’s a sudden fear building up inside him, making him regret for doing something as spontaneous as this.

He looks at Yeonjun in order to find any sign of discomfort or anger, but Yeonjun just sighs before he says, “I’m sorry.” He leans on the edge of the door and closes his eyes. “I’m sick as fuck. I think I caught a cold or something.”

Yeonjun looks at him with surprise. He thinks about it for a second, but ends up letting Beomgyu in after giving him a disposable mask. Beomgyu turns it down. 

Beomgyu knows Yeonjun has never been the tidiest person he has met, but judging by how the apartment looks now that Yeonjun hasn’t had the energy to clean up, it’s pretty messy. 

“How long have you been feeling like this?” Beomgyu asks, glancing around the apartment. There are clean clothes sitting on a pile on the same couch they’ve been watching TV shows and making out every time Beomgyu comes; dirty dishes in the sink and a plastic bag which Beomgyu assumes it’s trash that Yeonjun forgot to take out last night. 

“Yesterday,” Yeonjun replies, plopping down on the couch beside the clothes. He looks heavy and tired, his sick bones weighing a ton. Yeonjun rests his head against the backrest, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his hoodie. “I think right after we spoke on the phone. I took a nap and when I woke up I felt as if I’d been run over by a truck.”

“Have you checked your temperature?” Beomgyu asks him. Yeonjun shakes his head. “Where’s the thermometer?” 

Yeonjun’s got no fever, and overall, he looks fine —as fine as possible it is for a sick person in their state. Beomgyu gives him a painkiller and a cup of tea; much to Yeonjun’s complaints, but he still drinks all of it. 

“Why don’t you go and take a shower?” Beomgyu suggests him. “I’ll make you some soup in the meantime.” 

Yeonjun looks at him like he doesn’t know how to react. It looks like he wants to say something, but in the end, he mutters an okay and proceeds to pick some clothes out of the same pile of clean clothes on the couch and then goes to the bathroom in silence. 

Beomgyu finds instant ramen in Yeonjun’s pantry, so that’s what he cooks. He picks out the spicy one, Yeonjun’s favorite, which at the same time will probably help him clear his nostrils. As he waits for the water to boil, Beomgyu folds the clothes on the couch and takes them to Yeonjun’s bedroom where he leaves them in the wardrobe. 

He takes a look around the room. Yeonjun’s bed is a complete mess. If Beomgyu was sick, he would like someone to do exactly what he’s been doing since he arrived at Yeonjun’s apartment, so he approaches Yeonjun’s bed and takes out the bed sheets, folding and leaving them inside the laundry basket, replacing them for clean ones. 

Yeonjun gets out of the bathroom looking fresh and less sick. His nostrils are clearer, possibly due to the steam of the shower. He eats as if he hadn’t eaten in days, humming in satisfaction every time he gets a taste of ramen. 

“I didn’t know you were a skillful cook,” Yeonjun comments when he finishes his bowl. He seems content. 

“It’s just instant ramen, hyung. There’s not much science behind it.” Beomgyu snorts.

“Look, I’ve dated people whose instant ramen doesn’t taste as good as yours.”

It’s just a comment, so casual that it doesn’t deem to be dwelled on, but Beomgyu does exactly that. He dwells on it, tries to see beyond a simple compliment, as if Yeonjun doesn’t compliment him for anything Beomgyu does. That’s what Yeonjun does, make Beomgyu feel good. With him and about himself, whatever happens around him and the things he does and the people he meets. 

Yeonjun simply makes him feel good. 

This is just a simple compliment, but the fact that Yeonjun even dared to compare something as small as the way Beomgyu cooked instant ramen for him to the way other people cooked for him in the past, means everything to him. And Beomgyu wishes Yeonjun realized that. 

Beomgyu wishes Yeonjun realized many things—knew many things, like how Beomgyu went on a date with someone nice and handsome, and still that wasn’t enough for him to stop thinking about Yeonjun. 

Beomgyu stares at Yeonjun the same way he stared at Jeonghan when they were sitting face to face in that restaurant. The only difference is that now Beomgyu is really paying attention to what’s in front of him, his brain not making extra effort into keeping him focused because all his focus is on Yeonjun who is right there with him. 

“Thank you by the way,” Yeonjun says, and Beomgyu feels like he’d been in a trance all this time. “You didn’t have to.” 

“It’s okay, I wanted to,” he responds sheepishly. Yeonjun stretches his arms as he lets out a small, silent yawn. “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. I think the meds have started to take effect. Also, I was really hungry,” Yeonjun says. Beomgyu watches him as he closes his eyes and stays unmoving for a couple of seconds, as if he’s contemplating something. Then he opens his eyes and says, “I still feel a bit tired, though.” 

Yeonjun gasps when he notices the sheets on his bed have been changed and reprimands Beomgyu for doing housework behind his back. Beomgyu shrugs it off and makes him go to bed, going to the kitchen for a glass of water and more painkillers. 

When he’s back, Yeonjun is already tucked in bed like a little child, the blankets covering him entirely up to his mouth and his eyes following every move Beomgyu makes.  

“You should take another in 6 hours if you feel like it,” he instructs, placing the blister pack of painkillers and the glass of water filled to the brim on the nightstand. “Try to call me if you need anything, alright?” 

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, he simply keeps staring at Beomgyu in silence, like he just noticed something and is battling whether to tell Beomgyu about it or not.

“What is it?” Beomgyu asks him curiously. 

“Nothing,” he deadpans. A pause. And then, “No, actually, there is something.” 

“Okay,” Beomgyu tells him. He sits on the bed and looks Yeonjun in the eye. Yeonjun keeps looking at him, fixed on him, and it feels like it has turned into a staring contest; the first one to blink is the one who loses. “Tell me.”

“I really want to kiss you,” Yeonjun says and Beomgyu blinks. 

“Okay,” he says again, perplexed. Yeonjun’s lips curl in satisfaction, as if leaving Beomgyu baffled was his only intention all along. “Why don’t you do it?”

“I’m sick.”

“Hyung, I’ve been here for two hours. If I’m gonna get sick, I assure you it won’t be because of the kiss only.” 

“You’re right,” Yeonjun agrees and straightens up in the bed before leaning in and kiss Beomgyu square on the mouth. 

Eyes closed and holding his breath, Beomgyu lets himself get lost in the kiss. Even if his throat is sore tomorrow, he could never reject or regret a kiss from Yeonjun.

“You should stay,” Yeonjun tells him then, holding his hand. He says it as a suggestion, but Beomgyu thinks it sounds more like a request. 

Beomgyu jerks a brow at him, smiling teasingly as he says, “We’re not gonna fuck. You need to rest.” 

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “I’m saying it because it’s late. I don’t want anything to happen to you on the way.” 

Beomgyu holds back another smile. “You know, you could just say that you want me to stay tonight.”

He doesn’t know what he’s doing exactly. It may be a risk to assume Yeonjun is implying anything, but it’s worth the shot, because the next thing Yeonjun says in the most serious tone Beomgyu’s has heard coming from him, is, “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” before leaving a kiss on the back of his hand. 

Some things feel like a push and pull, a strange and ambiguous game that Beomgyu isn’t sure where it begins and where it ends—it’s just there, showing up and fading in a blink of an eye. And Yeonjun is so inviting that Beomgyu could never question anything he does. He simply tilts his head as if agreeing and takes off his sweater. 

“Okay,” he says, laying beside Yeonjun in the bed.  

It’s warm under the blankets and they smell nice. Yeonjun smells nice, from his hair to the back of his head and the clothes he’s wearing now, as old and worn out as they are. It’s the same smell that Beomgyu’s clothes acquired that one time he left them here for Yeonjun to wash them. 

Yeonjun’s body radiates heat even through his clothes. He’s facing the wall, back against Beomgyu’s chest and Beomgyu gets lost in the details of his hair, the patterns it follows when it becomes shorter at the nape, the way the black strands curl almost unnoticeably at the end. 

“Give me your hand,” Yeonjun tells him, breaking his train of thought. 

Beomgyu stretches his arm for Yeonjun to grab and pull just a little, placing his hand on the flat of his warm stomach.  

“Fuck, your hand is so cold,” he complains and Beomgyu snorts, rubbing his hand harshly against the skin of Yeonjun’s belly in order to warm it up. 

“I didn’t know you liked to be the little spoon,” Beomgyu comments almost against his neck. 

Yeonjun pulls his arm even more, this time sliding his hand and interlacing their fingers together. Beomgyu is closer to him, and the embrace becomes tighter around Yeonjun’s middle.

“I love being the little spoon,” he confesses and tries to sound as cute as possible. 

They fall asleep like this—or at least, Yeonjun does. Beomgyu keeps staring at his nape, his hair, the slightly prominent bone at the beginning of Yeonjun’s spine. This moment feels like a turning point, if Beomgyu hasn’t reached it already. One more step forward and it’ll be the point of no return, the way slipping down the rabbit hole. 

The grip on his arm loosens up, indicating that Yeonjun is fully asleep in his arms, and Beomgyu lets out a deep breath in something akin to surrender. He closes his eyes in hopes that once he wakes up, he’ll find an answer. 

“I can’t believe you brought me here.” 

It’s probably the most boring party Beomgyu has ever been to—which is a lot to say considering he’s attended more than he can count with his fingers. The person in charge of the music is a guy Beomgyu’s never seen before, someone dressed up like the DJ’s you see in music festivals and the people in the house are the still and unenthusiastic audience waiting for the headliner artist of the night. 

Not even the drinks are good. There’s only cheap beer and the cheapest brand of vodka that Beomgyu refuses to drink because that’s exactly what Soobin drank when he threw his life up in the bathroom of that house months ago. 

“It’s not that bad,” Yeonjun says optimistically beside him. He’s drinking vodka and juice because in contrast to Beomgyu, Yeonjun is less picky and will accept anything you give to him as long as it’s for free.

“I’d rather be watching season 7 of Grey’s Anatomy. That’s how bad this is,” Beomgyu replies. 

Yeonjun drinks the remnants of vodka that’s left in his plastic cup and stands in front of him. “It’s still kinda early,” Yeonjun comments. “Let’s give it a chance up till 11. If it’s still boring until then, we leave. That okay?” He says stretching his hand for Beomgyu to shake as if they were sealing a deal.

Beomgyu shrugs, stretching his hand and shaking Yeonjun’s. He imagined that what Yeonjun meant by giving it a chance was wandering around the place, each on their own until they found something fun and interesting to do. It is like this at first; Beomgyu drinks another beer, dances with a couple of people. There is a guy who piques his interest; he’s hot, a good dancer and a good kisser too, but not as Yeonjun, and Beomgyu hates himself a bit for comparing every guy he meets to Yeonjun.

It is as if Yeonjun was the standard, although Beomgyu would say it’s more like Yeonjun left the bar too high for others to surpass. 

Beomgyu loses track of time in the blink of an eye. He’s been dancing with this guy for he doesn’t know how long and he doesn’t know his name either. The only thing Beomgyu knows is that he’s dancing and singing and glancing around from time to time just to see if Yeonjun’s around, looking for him the same way Beomgyu is. 

And there he is, standing still like a statue at the corner of the room, staring at him like Beomgyu’s been hoping for a while. Yeonjun’s focusing on him, putting all his attention in everything Beomgyu does as he drinks from a can of a bitter beer. 

Suddenly, Beomgyu feels so self-conscious of all his moves that it causes the opposite to what he really wants to do and ends up moving as if on autopilot. He sings and dances around his nameless dance partner, and he kisses him too, and Yeonjun keeps looking at him as a secret in broad daylight and looming. 

The guy kisses him back hungrily, and as he does, Beomgyu wonders whether that’s how it feels for Yeonjun too—to kiss someone with whom you don’t have any connection or chemistry, someone for whom you don’t feel anything besides the rush of the moment. He keeps comparing any person to Yeonjun, but he also wonders whether it feels the same for Yeonjun. 

He doesn’t approach, doesn’t do anything really, just keeps staring at Beomgyu as if he was studying the situation. Perhaps he is, but Beomgyu feels too overwhelmed for it, feels too in the center and under a huge yet invisible spotlight Yeonjun has put over him. 

It only takes a vague gesture and the guy lets him go without questioning at all, Beomgyu nodding at him thankful for understanding. He will never see him again. 

The back of the house is the safest place at the moment, and all of a sudden it feels like months ago all over again. The only difference is that there are no cigarettes, Beomgyu’s no longer worried about a failed relationship and Yeonjun is looking at him with a hint of amusement. 

“That’s creepy behavior,” Beomgyu points out, unseriously. 

“What is?” 

Beomgyu crosses his arms. “You were staring at me.”

Yeonjun’s lips purse, holding back a smile. He crosses his arms, mimicking Beomgyu and leans against the wall. “I thought you said the party was boring.” 

“And you said to give it a chance,” Beomgyu retorts. “That’s what I was doing.” 

He doesn’t even know what they’re doing, what they’re trying to prove here, why Yeonjun followed him outside instead of staying inside. Beomgyu doesn’t care. He approaches Yeonjun slowly but automatically, like someone else is controlling his movements. One foot, then the other and then the other, and he’s a few inches from Yeonjun looking at him like he’s waiting for Beomgyu to take the initiative. 

Perhaps Yeonjun is as greedy as Beomgyu but less patient and way more unabashed. Perhaps he just knows Beomgyu too well, and knows how to read him because his first instinct is to place his hand on Beomgyu’s nape and push him against him, narrowing their little distance with a kiss. 

Everything that happens next does it in the blink of an eye until time stops for a second or two. It’s at the back of Beomgyu’s head the memory of Yeonjun saying he wants to go home, and then they’re in the car and Yeonjun’s hand is on Beomgyu’s knee moving slowly up to his thigh.  Their fingers interlace as they get out of the car, all the way up to Yeonjun’s apartment, and suddenly it feels like they have teletransported there, to Yeonjun’s bedroom.

Everything that happens next does it in the blink of an eye until time stops for a second or two—like when Yeonjun takes Beomgyu’s shirt off and kisses his upper body all the way down to his lower abdomen, peppering kisses over his belly button and asking Beomgyu for permission before he undoes the zipper of his jeans. 

Beomgyu feels like falling, trying hard to control his shaky legs and pretending they’re not giving up on him as Yeonjun squeezes the back of his thighs and bobs his head back and forth on Beomgyu’s cock. He grips on Yeonjun’s hair as if that were to ground him—and it does. But Yeonjun’s extremely good at giving head, and Beomgyu almost feels like coming when the tip of his cock hits the back of Yeonjun’s throat twice back to back. 

“Hyung, don’t—” Beomgyu taps twice on Yeonjun’s shoulder. Fortunately, Yeonjun gets the message and lets his dick go before wiping the saliva all over his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, I felt like I was gonna come.” 

“Why is that a problem? You didn’t want to?” Yeonjun asks him, standing on his feet. “Or do you want to wait for me to fuck you?” 

Yeonjun probably can’t see it due to how dark his room is, but Beomgyu can feel his cheeks burning out of pure embarrassment, which is ridiculous because this isn’t the first time Yeonjun talks to him like that and it’s not the first time they fuck. 

“Don’t worry, Beomgyu-yah,” Yeonjun cooes, caressing Beomgyu’s neck again, as if that sole gesture didn’t drive Beomgyu crazier than he already feels. He leans in and kisses the shell of his ear before whispering, “I’ll take care of you.” 

Yeonjun is always gentle unless Beomgyu asks him the opposite. He starts slow, takes all his time because it’s not like Beomgyu will go somewhere else, and relishes every whimper and moan he elicits from him. With Beomgyu already on the bed and with his clothes discarded on the floor, Yeonjun climbs on the bed and sits on his heels in between Beomgyu’s legs. 

“I’ve been fantasizing about doing this all night,” he says, caressing Beomgyu’s thigh up and down. His hand goes up and caresses everywhere avoiding the only place that can make Beomgyu go insane, and he knows Yeonjun’s doing it on purpose. Because if there’s one thing Beomgyu knows that Yeonjun loves, that is to be begged. He loves when Beomgyu begs, whether on his knees or on his back like he is now. 

“Doing what, exactly?” Beomgyu asks him nonetheless, just to see if he can play too, because he enjoys it when Yeonjun is vocal about it too. It’s worth the shot. 

“This,” he says as he leans in and kisses Beomgyu on the lips. “Kiss you,” he leaks his hand in between them and strokes Beomgyu’s cock, “touch you,” and when Beomgyu arches his back and moans, Yeonjun says, “and make you feel good.”

It might be due to how horny Beomgyu is that prepping feels dreadfully slow and tedious but incredibly easy at the same time. He cooperates and relaxes when Yeonjun stretches him, but that also can’t stop an untameable fire from building inside of him every time Yeonjun’s fingers enter him. 

Yeonjun keeps thrusting his fingers in and out as reaches Beomgyu’s mouth and kisses him hungrily, biting his lips and licking them afterwards as if that were to soothe the pain. 

“Hyung, I’m ready, please,” Beomgyu says when he can’t take it anymore. Yeonjun kisses his mouth once more and then his forehead before straightening up, still in between Beomgyu’s legs. 

Beomgyu sits on the bed and rolls down the condom on Yeonjun’s dick for him, giving it a few strokes as he looks him right in the eyes. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” Yeonjun tells him as he reaches his hand out and caresses Beomgyu’s cheek with so much care and softness. 

Beomgyu leans into his touch, enjoying the affection before Yeonjun pushes him onto the mattress. On his back, he opens his legs wider as Yeonjun positions himself in between them while he strokes himself a little bit more. In an instinctive move, Beomgyu mimics him, touching himself the same way before Yeonjun takes his hand off. 

“I want you so badly, you have no idea,” he purrs as he pushes two fingers in, just to make sure Beomgyu’s ready. 

“Fuck, me too,” Beomgyu replies, holding onto the comforter on Yeonjun’s bed. “Please hyung, just put it in me already.” 

And as if his wishes were commands, Yeonjun lines himself up with Beomgyu’s hole and pushes in slowly, tasting the waters, taking care of Beomgyu. His hand strokes Beomgyu’s hip as if that eased the sting, and Beomgyu believes it really does. 

Yeonjun kisses him like he always does when he bottoms out, trying to distract him until the kiss isn’t a distraction anymore and turns into something that makes Beomgyu want to go harder and faster. 

“Shit, it’s been like ages since the last time we did this,” Yeonjun says when he starts to move. 

It’s only been days, two weeks at most. Beomgyu’s been busy, so has Yeonjun. Beomgyu has also been lowkey avoiding Yeonjun, so being busy with college made everything easier. He needed time to sort out things, understand his feelings and all. There’s some regret now that he thinks about it; time wasted, missing hours, wishful thinking. He realizes this now that Yeonjun hasn’t taken his eyes off him, that the way he kisses Beomgyu’s lips and neck shows that he’s been longing for this as much as Beomgyu has, and he can’t help but to feel like there’s something else in between. 

“Did you miss me?” Beomgyu asks him breathless after Yeonjun has picked up a faster pace. 

Yeonjun thrusts harder at it and growls as he says, “Fuck, yes, very much. You have no idea.” 

Beomgyu gets a hold of Yeonjun arms at each side of his torso, digging his nails on the flesh, hoping he isn’t hurting Yeonjun with it. He squeezes his thighs harder around Yeonjun’s hips and throws his head back against the mattress, panting. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu, I wish you could see yourself right now,” Yeonjun says, slowering his pace to remove the strands of hair that cover part of Beomgyu’s forehead and eyes. “You are gorgeous, everything about you is so—”

“Hyung, please,” Beomgyu begs, cutting him off involuntarily. He doesn’t mean to, but Yeonjun’s been fucking him for some time, Beomgyu’s been holding the urge to come and Yeonjun’s words just make him want to melt even more. 

“Beautiful,” Yeonjun continues, picking up his pace again but this time, he lowers down and holds one of Beomgyu’s thighs tightly as he keeps fucking him relentlessly.

Beomgyu’s chest to chest with Yeonjun, and at some point, he can’t even tell whose heart is the one beating so fast. It’s like their thumpings echo in each other, and Beomgyu feels closer to Yeonjun like he’s never felt before. Perhaps Yeonjun can feel it too, or maybe he can tell whose heart it is. 

“Faster, faster,” Beomgyu whispers, hugging Yeonjun. “Please hyung, it feels so good—you feel so good.” 

Yeonjun curses against Beomgyu’s neck in an attempt to not bite him, and instead kisses him open-mouthed. “You feel so good around me, I don’t think I can hold back for much longer.” 

Beomgyu shuts his eyes and squeezes his thighs. “It feels too good, I’m gonna come,” he gasps against Yeonjun’s shoulder.

Yeonjun kisses him one more time—it’s probably the wettest kiss he’s given Beomgyu in all this time, and that makes it for him before he comes with a loud and powerful cry, as if all his energy left had been expelled with it. Yeonjun follows shortly after and his heart beats inside his chest like crazy. 

In his dizziness, Beomgyu feels ready to shut down for a while. He looks at the same ceiling he’s been looking at for months now, questioning whether what he has just done was the right thing to do. Yeonjun can't really keep his hands to himself; he kisses Beomgyu’s cheek and Beomgyu turns to him to give him a proper kiss on the lips. It tastes so good, so dreamy. Beomgyu could never get sick of it. 

Yeonjun stares at him and smiles before hiding his face, and then—perhaps it’s Beomgyu’s lightheadedness, but he could swear he hears Yeonjun when he says, “Fuck, I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t say anything after that, and Beomgyu feels like his heart stopped beating for a bit. He turns to look at the ceiling again and closes his eyes. 

Beomgyu wakes up; he doesn't know how long after. 

He’s still at Yeonjun’s apartment, in his room, in his bed, like, actually under the covers. He touches himself and he’s still naked but at least he’s clean. Yeonjun is sleeping beside him, his back facing Beomgyu, and he’s naked too, at least for what Beomgyu can see. 

It’s a little confusing. Beomgyu blinks a couple of times and keeps touching himself and the sheets to make sure he’s not dreaming or something. But the reality is just him sleeping naked beside Yeonjun in his bed. And Yeonjun’s naked too. 

Beomgyu stares at Yeonjun’s back and it’s so pretty; flawless skin, little moles spread all over the expanse of it. If he squints, Beomgyu can see the marks his own fingers left on Yeonjun’s shoulders, little red stains in his fair milky skin. The sex was real and this is real. 

What Yeonjun said after—was that real too? 

Beomgyu’s so fucked up. 

This was going to happen eventually, sooner or later. Soobin knew it, Beomgyu himself knew it. Very deep at the back of his consciousness, he knew it. He just decided to straightforwardly ignore it, and now he’s here, naked with Yeonjun in his bed and panicking because he can’t really tell to what extent everything he remembers actually happened. Although if there’s one thing he knows right now, that thing is this: he’s in love with Yeonjun, irrevocably so, and there’s no turning back. 

The thing is, what is he supposed to do with all that? He could just confess because it isn’t that terrible, but it would definitely make things awkward between them, and Beomgyu doesn’t want that. 

He could also tell Yeonjun that he’s found someone else, or that he started dating Jeonghan or whatever and that he doesn’t want to keep doing this in respect of his partner. But that would be a big ass lie, and Yeonjun deserves the truth—which takes him back to the original plan: confessing. Where would that leave them, though? Yeonjun’s been having a good time, and he’s free-spirited and doesn’t seem to want to have something serious with Beomgyu or with anyone really. Even if Yeonjun is all chill about it, Beomgyu doesn’t trust himself, and he will unconsciously make everything awkward between them. 

It’s like a vicious circle. 

“I’m so fucked up,” he whispers in realization as he looks at Yeonjun’s back. 

All of a sudden, Yeonjun shifts in the bed and turns his head to look at Beomgyu over his shoulder. “Why?” 

Beomgyu freezes. Fuck. 

Yeonjun keeps looking at him, now turning completely and facing him expectantly. 

“Why what?” 

“Don’t play dumb. You thought I was asleep and I didn’t hear you, but I did,” Yeonjun tells him and it makes Beomgyu feel even more mortified than before. “You said you were fucked up. Why?” 

Imagine if Beomgyu had said something else, something way worse than a coded I’m so fucked up. It could’ve been anything and Yeonjun wouldn’t know, Beomgyu can come up with something. 

“Ah, well, I’m—uhh,” he mumbles, making some time, but nothing really comes to mind and Yeonjun keeps staring at him with those beautiful eyes and that pretty smile on his pretty lips, and Beomgyu is really, really so fucked up. “It’s... Nothing...” 

“Alright,” Yeonjun says and sits on the bed, reaching towards the lamp on his nightstand. The room is illuminated by a warm light and Yeonjun turns to look at Beomgyu again. “I think we should have a conversation.” 

“Now?” Beomgyu says, diverting his eyes from Yeonjun’s face to his bare chest. He catches himself on the fact that he’s naked too. “Can I put on some clothes first?” 

Yeonjun gives him his briefs and lends him a t-shirt. He fits in it, but the garment looks even bigger on him than it normally does on Yeonjun. Yeonjun puts on some clothes too before climbing onto the bed again and sits in front of Beomgyu face-to-face. 

“You have a lot in your head,” Yeonjun assumes, and he assumes right. Hell, if he only knew how right he is, and yet he can’t do anything about it. 

Yeonjun always manages to ease Beomgyu’s worries. It’s so unfortunate that just now, there might be something he can’t make better. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything. He’s trying to figure out how to put in order all his thoughts and calm down his own heart at the same time he pretends to be fine. He doesn’t even know where to start. 

“Okay, I’ll say something first,” Yeonjun offers, taking the initiative, and Beomgyu doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. “Before you jump to any conclusions, I think I should explain what happened before.”

There it is, the feeling of disappointment and disillusionment hitting right where it hurts, but perhaps it’s just better this way—Yeonjun making clear where they stand in all this. 

“It was an accident,” he says first and Beomgyu nods. “I didn’t mean to say it like that, let alone after we… You know.” Beomgyu nods again, the only thing he can do at the moment. It truly feels like disillusionment because, very deep inside of him, there was a tiny spark of hope. He knows Yeonjun loves him, but not in the way he loves Yeonjun. 

Beomgyu doesn’t even want to look at him. He bends his knees and rounds them with his arms, hugging them as if that could comfort him a bit. Somehow it does, just a little. He hears Yeonjun clearing his throat before he continues speaking.

“But, uhm,” he says. There’s a pause in between, like he’s hesitating, and then he says something that Beomgyu can’t quite understand. “I truly meant that.”

Time stops. Beomgyu looks at Yeonjun instinctively but regrets it immediately when Yeonjun is already staring at him, dead serious. It could be a joke, Yeonjun pulling his leg, but he’s not even smiling. If anything, it looks like he’s just told Beomgyu his darkest secret.  

“I’m sorry, what?” Beomgyu asks him dumbfounded. 

Yeonjun is looking at him but he hasn’t moved an inch. There’s red in his face and everything is dead silent and Beomgyu doesn’t really know what to do. 

“You heard me before,” Yeonjun says, “when I said I love you.” 

“But you meant it as in friends,” Beomgyu states, waiting for confirmation, but Yeonjun shakes his head, and it’s the first time he actually moves since they started the conversation. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Oh,” is all Beomgyu says. He wants to say something more eloquent—anything, but his mind is blank. 

Then he hears Yeonjun make a sound that is closer to him taking a deep breath before he says, “I like you, Beomgyu. And I’m sorry I said that all of a sudden. It was not the best moment to say something like that, but I want you to know that it was sincere, that I said it from the bottom of my heart.”

Beomgyu tries to remember what it sounded like when Yeonjun said that before. It was unexpected and it sounded spontaneous. That must mean something at least. It does sound sincere now and that definitely means something. 

Silence settles and everything suddenly feels so awkward and heavy and dense, and Beomgyu hates it because Yeonjun has basically word-vomited all that and he’s just there, hugging his knees and trying to think of something to say. He glances at Yeonjun and Yeonjun scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. 

“Look, I don’t want to push you, but I’d prefer if you just rejected me, like—”

“No! I’m sorry,” Beomgyu cuts him off, panicking. “I’m sorry, it’s just—this felt so out of the blue and I thought you were, like, seeing other people?” 

“I was at the beginning,” Yeonjun says, “but I haven’t seen anyone else in months now,” he says then.

“You—what?” Beomgyu splutters. “Why?”

Yeonjun shifts in the bed and sits closer to Beomgyu and pulls the blankets as if he wanted to hide under them.“It’s not like I did it on purpose, I think. It’s just that I simply stopped wanting to see other people and I realized weeks later.”

Beomgyu follows him with his eyes, catching on every single one of Yeonjun’s gestures. The way he tries not to look back at him, how he places his hands in between his thighs, and the way the bed moves slightly because of his feet rubbing against each other under the covers. 

That’s how Beomgyu realizes that Yeonjun is wearing his heart on his sleeve. It’s the first time that he sees Yeonjun being like this, so vulnerable and hesitant, and so unsure of the final result. Beomgyu wants to hug him. 

“And then I just… Wanted to see you, be with you.” 

“God, hyung,” Beomgyu lets out a deep breath, the one he didn’t know he’d been holding all this time.  He takes his hands to his face and the contrast in temperature between his cheeks and the palms of his hands is somewhat soothing. “All this time I thought—I had so many thoughts in my head, like, you have no idea.” 

Yeonjun laughs at it but it’s more like he’s tittering. He tries to sit closer to Beomgyu but seems like he doesn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something earlier I guess,” he says like he really means it, and then there’s a pause. 

With his hands still on his face, Beomgyu looks at nothing. He thinks, tries to connect the dots or something that makes sense to all this. “That means you did know I like you, right?” 

“I had my suspicions,” Yeonjun confirms. “I wasn’t completely sure, though, but I decided to take a leap of faith.” 

Beomgyu would ask him what made him do that out of pure curiosity, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter at this point. If Yeonjun was wearing his heart on his sleeve just now, Beomgyu believes he himself has been doing it for a long time so there’s no way Yeonjun didn’t see it, or even feel it. 

There’s a weird feeling in his guts, like a near miss experience almost if Beomgyu had spoken first. Because if he would’ve spoken first, then Yeonjun wouldn’t be confessing now. His stomach churns just at the thought, but at the same time, a huge sense of relief falls over his shoulders. 

Beomgyu’s thankful that things turn out the way they do. 

Silence settles again and Yeonjun keeps stealthily shifting on the bed, as if he was trying to do something but doesn’t dare to. Beomgyu laughs at it, light-heartedly and sweetly. 

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, it’s just that…” he trails off, glancing at Yeonjun beside him. He’s very close, so close that Beomgyu could kiss him easily if he reached a little. “It’s always me who makes things awkward, but now you’re the awkward one. I really thought you were the most confident man on the planet.” 

“I just really like you a lot,” Yeonjun admits, like there’s nothing else he could do. 

Yeonjun admits it like there’s nothing else he could do about it, but also like he’s glad that it is like this. 

In contrast to what Beomgyu’s seen in the movies, or in any of Grey’s Anatomy’s episodes, there is no kiss after confessing this time. They’ve kissed a lot, multiple times, and they’ve had so many kisses of so many kinds; the first ones and the ones in which they were just testing the waters; hot and desperate kisses, incredibly turned on; sweet and tender, comforting. Beomgyu likes them all, but he wouldn’t exchange what Yeonjun is giving him now. 

It feels like a shelter when Yeonjun is the one hugging him from behind, a warm and welcoming shelter, so home-like and immensely safe. He leaves little kisses on Beomgyu’s shoulder and nape, and every time Beomgyu hums in satisfaction, Yeonjun tightens the embrace, as if he didn’t want to ever let Beomgyu go. 

And Beomgyu wouldn’t exchange that for anything. 

“I really like you too,” he whispers in the dark. Yeonjun hasn’t said anything in a while, most likely because he already fell asleep. But Yeonjun squeezes his hand and gets even closer to him, nuzzling the curve of Beomgyu’s neck. 

“Thank you for letting me know,” he replies in a whisper as well. “I’m so sleepy, but before I fall asleep I want you to know that I love you. I really mean it.” 

In an alternate reality, perhaps, Yeonjun’s words would’ve terrified him—had it been a different situation and a different person. In this reality, Yeonjun’s words don’t terrify him, don’t pressure him or push him into reciprocating. 

In this reality, those words, contrary to what Beomgyu always believed, don’t terrify Yeonjun either, and that eases every single one of Beomgyu’s fears, whatever those may be. 

Yeonjun leaves one last kiss on his shoulder before falling asleep completely, and Beomgyu holds himself from turning and kissing him back. 

For now, he settles with this: interlaces his fingers with Yeonjun’s, rubs Yeonjun’s hand with his thumb while he replies, even if Yeonjun doesn’t hear him, “Me too.”