Archive of Our Own

Nowhere in literature, in the history of anything, has Seungmin seen falling in love with a best friend described as anything other than the harsh truth: dangerous, terrifying, and intoxicating.

Seungmin makes an admirable attempt to stop himself from doing the very thing that authors and poets have been warning him of for years and years. It’s just that Hyunjin... well, he’s Hyunjin. Magnetic and beautiful, and a shockwave against every single one of Seungmin’s better senses.

Normally, he’s pretty good at composing himself against the twists and turns that inevitably find him. He’s got a good, balanced head on his shoulders, and everyone agrees, too. So when his chest twinges for the first time around Hyunjin, he ignores it. Because it’s Hyunjin, and let’s face it, they’re all just a little bit in love with him and his antics. It’s all friendly affection though, a deep-set fondness for someone so lively, who touches their lives in the best way possible on a daily basis.

It happens while they’re in the dorms, watching some Christmas movie in the middle of December. It’s a group activity, and all eight of them are scattered around the living room in various states of overlap. There’s a warm thigh over his own and a head against his knees from where they hang over the couch. Hyunjin sits on the armchair across the room, all folded in on himself, his knees hitting his chest. He’s in Seungmin’s hoodie again and nibbling on a Twizzler, eyes trained on the TV. Seungmin doesn’t really know why he’s watching him instead of the movie. He tells himself it’s because the crinkling of the Twizzler packaging in Hyunjin’s hand is far too distracting, and the movie isn’t really that interesting anyway, so of course his eyes wander.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is clearly invested in the plot. He doesn’t register the attention, and nibbles away at a twisted strand as it stains his lips red.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, tone casual, “maybe we should buy a real Christmas tree next year. The pine ones.” He digs around in his bag of Twizzlers. “Like, you can store them and reuse them every year, plus I bet it would smell so good.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone digests his words, and then all of a sudden seven heads are turning in his direction. Well, technically six, because Seungmin is already looking.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung says, “you can’t reuse a real fucking Christmas tree.”

Hyunjin looks at him with a furrowed brow. “Why not?”

“Because…” Channie Hyung looks like he can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “Because… it’s a real tree?”

Hyunjin still looks confused, and Jeongin lets out a tiny giggle, and then Minho laughs, and Felix tries really hard not to join in, but his face is turning red from holding it back and—

“Stop laughing at me! How the fuck was I supposed to know?”

Jisung can barely breathe as he gets jostled around by a gleeful Changbin Hyung. “What the fuck do you mean?! It’s supposed to be common sense.”

Hyunjin squirms in his seat, his cheeks reddening. “I thought you could, like, put it in a plastic bag in a cool area and it’d be fine—”

That sets off a fresh wave of laughter, and now Hyunjin is whining and hiding his face, and Seungmin doesn’t know what about it specifically is special, per se, but he feels a flood of warmth in his chest and a very potent desire to burn this image into his mind for the rest of his life. Rosy-cheeked and in Seungmin’s sweater, and a jumble of pliant limbs and—

Seungmin’s heart jumps, and it shocks him so entirely that he looks down at his hands, holding his breath. His ears are warm.

He allows himself twenty whole seconds of yearning before he registers that, yes, he is yearning for the silly boy across the room, and then he grabs the feeling by the tail and throws it in the deepest crevice in his mind, shutting it out like slamming a door, padlocking it with chains, and then pushing a boulder in front of it. Just for good measure.

Nothing is amiss. Crisis averted. No one, especially not Hyunjin, would ever know.

He settles back into the cushions as the teasing continues.

Not a big deal.

Only Seungmin finds himself pushing that boulder away, unlocking the chains and throwing the door back open in the deep hours of the night, multiple nights in a row, just to remember the exact way his hoodie settled against Hyunjin’s body. To remember the exact shade of pink that bloomed on Hyunjin’s cheeks, the exact intonation of Hyunjin’s indignant voice.

He imagines reaching through his memories and towards the curve of Hyunjin’s cheek, and fitting the palm of his hand against it. Wonders if Hyunjin would lean into the touch and order him to tell the others to stop making fun of him, his bottom lip jutted out and—

Under the cover of night, Seungmin’s hands tremble.

And in the morning, he pretends that everything is exactly as it always has been.

Over time, Seungmin wonders if he and Hyunjin have always been so… close.

As in, light touches on the shoulders or on the waist. Hooked ankles under the kitchen table. His hand reaches for him before he even realises what he’s doing, and the question have I always been doing this? slams into him full force.

Something so ordinary becomes something fascinating and terrifying.

Seungmin doesn’t know why it’s so terrifying.

Seungmin doesn’t know why his hands act before his brain thinks the action through.

Seungmin doesn’t know, but he doesn’t need to if he can force himself to go back to his normal self and that’s all that matters.

Pulling a veil over it all is astonishingly easy. Because if Seungmin concentrates hard enough, there is nothing there anyway. Just him and Hyunjin, best friends, like they always have been and always will be.

He clutches onto that veil with white knuckles every time he feels Hyunjin’s chin on his shoulder, though, vanilla and rose swirling around his senses like an enticing fantasy that he wants to lose himself in.

He clenches his teeth. Holds onto the veil even more tightly.

And what a new sensation Hyunjin is, even though Hyunjin himself is as constant as always.

A bubbly drink, champagne-infused strawberries, a cold glass of water after Seungmin’s spent all day under the unforgiving sun.

What a terrifying realization it is that someone so familiar has taken a new form in the depths of his mind.

Actually, no.

Deep breath in.

Hyunjin is the same as always.

Deep breath out.

Nothing has changed.

Hyunjin is Hyunjin, and Seungmin is Seungmin.

And they are them, just as they always have been.

Why is it that Hyunjin hovers around him like this? They’re like two planets caught in each other’s orbit.

Why is it that when Hyunjin enters a room, he looks for Seungmin first and foremost?

Why is it that when he sees him, it’s as if he’s found something he’s been searching long and hard for? Every time? Without fail?

Why does Hyunjin’s attention make the hairs on his arms stand on end all of a sudden?

Why does Seungmin want Hyunjin to keep looking?

Seungmin shuts his eyes, keeps them averted, and tries (and fails) to keep his thoughts on a tight leash.

“Hyung,” Jeongin looks up from the lyrics in front of him. His face is steely, and his voice betrays his frustration. “Stop fidgeting. Please. You’re shaking the whole table.”

Seungmin stops bobbing his knee and immediately winces when the table visibly stabilizes. They’re supposed to be practicing, but clearly Seungmin’s thoughts are elsewhere.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, lowering his eyes to his paper. He’s restless, questions with no answers bouncing insistently around in his head, accompanied by the occasional, heart-stopping memory of Hyunjin doing normal things that definitely do not warrant that type of reaction. Like now, for example, the image of a sleepy Hyunjin exiting the bathroom the other night, wet hair plastered to his forehead, enters his mind unbidden.

Unconsciously, his knee jerks up and hits the table surface. He can feel the younger’s eyes on him, which does not help.

“I’m fine, Innie.”

“I didn’t say anything,” and fuck him, that bastard sounds smug. “You don’t sound too convincing, though.”

“I’m fine,” Seungmin repeats, and it feels like he’s reassuring himself more than anyone else.

Jeongin ignores him and leans back in his seat as he takes a sip of his iced coffee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

And it’s embarrassing how Seungmin trips over his words in his rush to ask, “Does Hyunjin seem like he’s acting weird lately?”

“Hyunjin Hyung?” Jeongin blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that to be what Seungmin asked. “What? No. I mean, he’s always acting weird, but that’s nothing new. He’s acting like he always does.”

“Around me,” Seungmin clarifies, “Have you noticed him acting differently around me?”

Jeongin’s eyes go from confusion to understanding to careful indifference. “Mmm, do you feel like he is?”

Seungmin hates it when people answer his questions with more questions. If he wanted to introspect, he would have just done that. Right now, he needs someone to weigh in on this objectively.

“I—” Seungmin squirms in his seat. He feels uncomfortably warm all of a sudden, and his own awkwardness grates against his nerves. “Yes? No?” He scowls just then, at no one in particular. “I don’t know. I’m asking if you think there’s a difference.”

Jeongin laughs at the sudden, blunt tone Seungmin has taken. “Well,” his dark eyes glitter, dimples making themselves known, “Personally? No, I don’t think he’s acting differently around you at all. I meant it when I said he’s acting like he always does.”

Seungmin’s face has to be red, and he doesn’t really want to think about why. Everything about this conversation is embarrassing, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “Then why does it feel so different?”

Jeongin shrugs nonchalantly. “He’s always been weird when it comes to you, Hyung,” he says lightly. “Maybe you’re just noticing it for the first time.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what that means. They stare at each other for a few moments in silence. Then, Seungmin nods and pulls his sheet towards him, turning his attention to the task at hand despite feeling more off-kilter than ever.

A whisper in the dark. “Hey, Seungminnie?”

Seungmin is already looking in his direction, even when their room is pitch black. Why is he always looking? “Mmm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

Hyunjin laughs suddenly, “I’m serious!”, and Seungmin feels his own lips stretching into a satisfied smile before he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Okay, okay! What is it?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply right away, his laughter fading in warm bursts. He shifts in his bed, filling the room with the sound of rustling sheets. “It’s sort of a … weird question,” he admits, his voice gentle once again.

Seungmin settles even deeper into his bed. He knows that tone. They’ll be up talking for some time. “I’m listening,”

He can almost picture the furrow in Hyunjin’s brow. “If you could go back in time and… and change us… like, our friendship… would you?”

Seungmin blinks several times in the dark. Suddenly, his chest feels a bit too tight. “What do you mean?”

“Like, the things we’ve done with each other or… or said to each other…” Hyunjin’s voice is barely audible. “What we’ve come to mean to each other… would you change any of it?”

There’s something in his question that has Seungmin feeling like he’s in a minefield. Say the wrong answer, step in the wrong direction, and he’d be a dead man.

He licks his lips. How does he respond? The air between them is suddenly intense and heavy.

Clutch onto the veil, bring it under his knees, use his body weight to hold it down.

“Would you?”

“Yah!” Hyunjin tsks, and Seungmin can faintly see the outline of his head lifting off his pillow, probably to shoot a glare in his direction. “I asked you first, Kim Seungmin!”

Kim Seungmin.

It’s just his name. Normal. Nothing amiss.

He’s panicking a bit internally over his potential response, and then he’s panicking about why he’s panicking, because he shouldn’t be, this is a normal thing for Hyunjin, for them, to talk about hypotheticals.

“W-Well,” He clears his throat. Takes a deep breath. Wipes his mind clean. “No, I don’t think so.” He picks at the threads in his bedsheets, “The things we’ve said to each other and the things we’ve done together … it’s made us, us. And I… I like us. I wouldn’t trade us for anything.” And then, because he feels like the longer he talks, the more he suffocates, he adds, “What about you?”

For a few moments, all Seungmin can hear is his own heartbeat.

Then, “I would want more,” Hyunjin whispers.

Seungmin’s breath catches, and it feels like this, whatever this is, hits a peak, and his foot is falling over a landmine, and—

Hyunjin rushes to explain. “Like, we have so much fun, you know? I want us to have more time to have fun like this. More time to talk about strange scenarios and dorm together and… and be us.” He laughs again, but there’s something tense about it this time. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin says stupidly, even though he doesn’t, can’t even begin to let himself wonder about what this conversation means. “More time to be us.”

“Yeah. Us.”

Seungmin nods in the dark. “Best friends.”

“Best friends,” Hyunjin agrees in a whisper, and that’s that. Goodnights are whispered, and the energy that crackled between them dissipates just as quickly as it came. Hyunjin turns to face the far wall, and Seungmin does the same.

He was expecting a longer talk, but there’s relief in his veins because the conversation is over. Stronger than that, though, shockingly so, is disappointment over something that seems to have fallen through his fingers without him even realising it.

He feels scrubbed raw. Bright red and soft, like exposed skin after you trip and scuff your knee on the pavement. Like he’s put up on a stage, under spotlights, with an audience in front of him, and he’s supposed to juggle for them but he doesn’t know how to fucking juggle, and instead he’s dropping everything, everywhere, all over the place.

The steadiness that once existed in him feels nonexistent now. Nothing about this new Seungmin feels calm or composed.

He’s an exposed live wire. The land mine itself. Scrambling to collect marbles that accidentally tumble out of a velour pouch before they scatter in every direction all at once.

Hyunjin is the current. The foot that falls over him and sets him off. The friend that waits while he gets on his hands and knees, sweat beading on his neck, to look under the couch for what he’s lost.

Everything should be the same, as it was, but nothing feels the same.

Hyunjin treats him as he always does, though. Talks to him in a voice that is sweeter than honey. Steals his clothes. He touches him with feather-light fingertips, over the pulse in Seungmin’s wrist, when he wants his attention. Presses his thigh against Seungmin’s when they sit side-by-side, glued to him, in a way that he’s never registered before. Looks at him with a quirked lip whenever Seungmin very visibly falters, fondly ruffles his hair, and whispers, “My silly Seungminnie,” before continuing like nothing has happened.

The only difference is that when Seungmin ducks out of the room to pull himself together, he thinks he’s burning with it all. Lit aflame like a torch in Hyunjin’s slender hands. He wonders if Hyunjin can see it. He hopes he can, and then he wishes that thought away.

The funny thing is that, sometimes, Seungmin caves against the growing pressure in his chest.

As it stands, Seungmin feels so full of something that dangles right out of reach, and if he doesn’t lessen the sensation, he really does think he’ll combust. What a tantalizing way to live. He hates it but can’t seem to get enough.

Hyunjin isn’t even doing anything other than existing in the same space as him. He paints in the back corner of their dorm, right in front of the window, while Seungmin fails to pay attention to the novel he’s been neglecting lately.

Everything about this is unbearable.

The evening light that pours through the window and douses Hyunjin in gold. The fiery halo of hair around his head. The slightly baggy shirt he’s in (Seungmin’s, again, because their wardrobe is becoming indistinguishable these days). The smudges of paint over his knuckles and the bony protrusion of his wrist.

Seungmin feels like he’s losing his mind. Wants to get on his hands and knees in front of whatever higher being exists and pray that the strange infliction he has resolves itself quickly. Wants to pray that Hyunjin will set down his paint and brushes in favour of turning his eyes on him instead. Wants to feel his gaze rake over his skin. He wants to feel himself burn.

Most of the time, his prayers echo in empty space, as neglected as his novel. On the rare days, though, like today, Hyunjin sighs loudly and yanks the headphones off his head with a disapproving set of his mouth without Seungmin having to do anything at all.

On the rare days, like today, he will catch Seungmin’s eye and gesture at his canvas as if he’s going can you believe this shit?! and Seungmin will pretend as if he hadn’t been etching the image of a sunlit Hyunjin into the backs of his eyelids.

“Stuck on something?” he asks, nonchalantly, because the force of his emotions is scaring him, just a little.

“More like stuck on everything,” Hyunjin grumbles, lifting a foot onto the seat of his stool so he can tuck his knee under his chin. “I want to paint but nothing is coming out of my brain.”

Seungmin closes his book much faster than he should, tossing it to the side. “Maybe you need a change of scenery?” And then, because sometimes he doesn’t want to think about his actions, he says, “Want to go take a walk? We can grab something warm to drink.”

Seeing Hyunjin brighten and launch himself off his stool is enough to make Seungmin feel like he’s won something. Like he’s done something right.

So they get dressed, and the shirt he wears smells like Hyunjin even though it’s his, and maybe his scent is a bit intoxicating, because when he indulges Hyunjin’s every request and pays for them both despite the other boy’s protests, he sends him a wink that he hopes comes across as playful and says, “Anything for my artist.”

And, oh, the blush that colours Hyunjin’s cheeks as they wait for their orders? Seungmin commits it to memory.

As their comeback draws closer, Hyunjin becomes that much more distracting, all the time. When he crosses a room, Seungmin’s eyes follow. Rooms are colder when he’s not around and far too warm when he is.

Dance practices in particular are extra maddening, because it’s the one place, aside from in front of a canvas, that Hyunjin becomes entirely different. Serious and dedicated to the choreography, drops of sweat beading down the column of his throat. The change in character goes straight to the senseless parts of his brain.

Seungmin hangs around in the studio when the others pack up to go their separate ways for the day, compelled to monitor Hyunjin for a variety of different reasons. To make sure he doesn’t go too hard, to make sure he takes a break, to watch each controlled movement of his limbs, each roll of his hips, a little bit shamelessly.

Hyunjin is relentless with himself as he goes over the same five seconds of their title track over and over again until it’s flawless. At least it looks flawless to Seungmin. Hyunjin clearly thinks otherwise, judging from the way a groan is ripped from the back of his throat after this last run. He drops to his knees and then collapses on his back, breathing heavily.

“Hyunjinnie,” Seungmin calls out, amused, “Take a break.”

“I… need… I need to get this right-”

Seungmin shushes him and stands, grabbing a water bottle from the mini fridge by the door as he makes his way over. “It’s good enough for now.” He crouches next to Hyunjin’s limp body, and Hyunjin’s head lolls to the side to pout up at him. Seungmin wants to squish his cheeks, but he refrains and does the next best thing.

Hyunjin hisses and flinches away from the cold water bottle that touches his cheek. He glares weakly but snatches the bottle from his grasp and pushes himself up to unscrew the cap. “I want it to be better.”

Seungmin makes a noise of understanding as he shuffles to make space. It would be unfair to hold it against him, especially when he clearly gets caught in the same loops. But logically, burning himself out so early on in their preparation, all to achieve whatever degree of perfection he deemed worthy in his mind, wasn’t the best approach either.

“We have three months until our comeback,” he reasons. “All things considered, I think you’re already ahead of the game here.”

Hyunjin makes a noncommittal noise as he takes a sip. Seungmin is more focused than he should be as he watches his Adam’s apple bob with the movement. “I don’t know,” he sighs eventually, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t stop unless I get it perfect. Just thinking about it stresses me out.”

“I know. But what’s the point in risking injury over something you still have time to do? Hurting yourself isn’t going to make you perform better.”

That shuts Hyunjin right up. He traces the mouth of his bottle with the tip of his finger. Seungmin traces the movement with his eyes.

Seungmin glances up at the clock on the wall. “I’ll give you another thirty minutes, but then we’re going. I’m hungry, and you’ve been going at this for far too long.”

He stands back up, taking a few steps towards the couch.

“You can just go, you know,” Hyunjin huffs, looking like a sack of bones as he pushes himself to his feet. “You don’t have to wait here.”

Seungmin throws a look that reads you know me better than that over his shoulder. They both fight a smile.

He glows from his spot in the corner of the studio, all the way up to the time they leave.

Hyunjin wants to take a nap. With him. In his bed. He’s annoyingly calm about the whole ordeal while he shifts about and brushes against Seungmin, trying to find a comfortable position.

Seungmin feels like he’s dying. Hyunjin’s scent is everywhere, and he wonders offhandedly if his bed sheets will continue to remind him of the fact until he chucks them into the wash.

“Seungmin, my singer,” Hyunjin huffs, and Seungmin’s ears redden even more than they already are at the nickname. “Why are you so tense right now?” He jabs his finger into his side. “Move over, you log,”

“This is my bed,” Seungmin reminds him with a mutter, but he does as he’s told, pressing his side against the wall.

“Yes, I know,” Hyunjin replies with a roll of his eyes, “I am very, very aware of that.” His cheeks pink, ever so slightly, but that might be Seungmin’s imagination. He flips onto his back with a loud breath and stares up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his chest.

There is a very deliberate sliver of space between them left by Seungmin. He doesn’t think he could make it out alive if they were touching, skin to skin.

Fuck, he thinks, because really, what else will sum up the utter chaos inside him right now? Fuck.

“I can go to my own bed,” Hyunjin blurts suddenly, turning his head, and the rouge on his cheeks is much more apparent now. “I-If this is too much. I don’t want to-”

“No.” The desperation in his voice surprises them both. “No, please, I-” He swallows and trains his eyes on the ceiling. “Stay. I want you to.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin breathes, “Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can stay.” He looks away, and Seungmin catches sight of a flaming ear. “Thanks.”

Seungmin bites his lip, electrified from head to toe. “No worries.”

They’re silent for a few moments, giving Seungmin a chance to process what exactly is happening. The heat from Hyunjin’s body radiates towards him, coaxing him to come closer. The room is dim, the blinds pulled down against the mid-afternoon sun.

“You can relax, you know,” Hyunjin whispers, “It’s just me.”

Right. Just Hyunjin. Seungmin’s muscles unclench themselves just as the back of Hyunjin’s hand brushes against his knuckles. In a rare moment of courage, Seungmin threads their fingers together. Hyunjin’s hands are cooler than his, but warm up quickly under his touch. Seungmin runs a shaky thumb over the dips and grooves of his knuckles.

Hyunjin rests his cheek against Seungmin’s shoulder. “Is this okay?” His voice is hushed, like something between them would shatter if he spoke any louder than this.

Seungmin nods, not trusting his words. “You can, uh,” He licks his lips. “You can move closer. If you want.”

The pressure at his side increases as Hyunjin scoots a little closer, so they’re shoulder to shoulder. Seungmin clenches his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. Hyunjin’s sweet vanilla rose overruns every one of his senses.

“You smell really good.” The words escape his mouth before he can stop them. “It’s so distracting.”

Hyunjin chuckles under his breath. “You mean I’m distracting?”

Seungmin all of a sudden realises the implication behind his words and flushes a deep ruby red. His body launches into movement, but Hyunjin holds him in place by tightening his grip on his hand.

“You’re distracting too,” he continues, shamelessly, relentlessly, “And you smell good as well. Why do you think I wear your hoodies so often?” He noses Seungmin’s shoulder and takes a deep breath in. “You smell like pine. The mountains.” Seungmin can feel the sparks all the way down to his toes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hyunjin chuckles. “My silly Seungminnie.” He burrows down into the covers. “Wake me up when you get up, okay?”

This rush of emotion he feels around Hyunjin leaves him breathless, disoriented. They are glued at the hip, he sees it now. They have always been touching. They have always been gentle with each other. Seungmin has always reached out for him. Nowadays, they’re charged like two atoms accelerating towards fusion. Or maybe that’s his wishful thinking.

Because maybe it means nothing that Hyunjin crawls into his bed to take naps rather than staying in his own. Maybe it means nothing that sometimes Seungmin wakes up to Hyunjin gazing up at him with lidded eyes and a gentle smile on his face from where he lays on his chest, his fingers over Seungmin’s heart to pillow his chin. Maybe it means nothing that he smiles wider when he feels his heartbeat accelerate. Maybe it means absolutely nothing that sometimes Hyunjin stays a bit longer in his bed, falls asleep overnight, and lets Seungmin press into his back until the early hours of the morning. Rinse and repeat. Like an addiction that they refuse to break.

“Your skin is so soft,” Seungmin blurts one night, rubbing his leg against the squishy part of Hyunjin’s bare shin, and then winces at his forwardness. Seriously, where does his tact go when they’re together?

Sleeping in the same bed is difficult in that Seungmin has to keep a tight grip on his impulses when they’re entwined together, but easy in the sense that having Hyunjin so close just feels right.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin giggles, the sound vibrating in his chest from where Hyunjin’s head rests on top of him. “I’m glad you noticed.” He grabs one of Seungmin’s hands and slips it under his shirt. “See? It’s softer here.”

There’s not a goddamn thought in his head. Not a fucking whisper of one.

Hyunjin’s tummy is softer. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to do with that information now that his hands are splayed over him. He can feel the swell of air under his palm as Hyunjin breathes. Hyunjin pats his hand but otherwise leaves it there.

Seungmin moves his fingers over the stretch of silky-smooth skin. He can’t help himself, not when Hyunjin’s offered himself up so nicely. He can feel Hyunjin’s breathing stutter, ever so slightly, and when Seungmin flicks his eyes to his face, he’s met with round, doe eyes.

The air is heavy with that same current from when Hyunjin asked if there was anything about their friendship that they would change.

Are you doing this on purpose? Seungmin questions silently.

“Maybe,” Hyunjin whispers.

Ah, so he’s spoken out loud.

He should be more embarrassed, he should yank his hand back and apologise, but why would he?

Hyunjin clearly wants this. Seungmin takes a shaky breath.

Hyunjin delivers a lethal blow. His voice is soft, and so pretty. Everything about him is soft and pretty when they’re alone. “Your hands feel so nice on me.”

The noise that Seungmin makes in the back of his throat is nothing short of exposing as he pulls Hyunjin closer, so they’re flush against each other. Hyunjin’s arms move automatically to come around his neck, his nose bumping against the crook of Seungmin’s neck, like he had just been waiting for the chance to wrap around him.

Seungmin gives him what he wants and runs his hands over the length of Hyunjin’s spine, feeling every dip and groove of compacted muscle, slender and strong from hours of grueling dance practices, until they fall asleep in a mixture of rose and pine.

Jeongin watches him from across the table, brow furrowed. He sniffs the air. “Why do you smell like Hyunjin Hyung?”

“Huh?” Seungmin nearly drops his pen in surprise. “What? No I don’t.”

But Jeongin is already moving forward, grabbing hold of Seungmin’s arm and raising it up to his nose, taking a deep breath before Seungmin can move away. He drops his arm in horror. “Yes you do! You know, when Hyunjin Hyung walked by me and I smelled your cologne even though he was wearing his own clothes, I ignored it and thought it was just my imagination, but it’s not and—”

“Yes it is,” Seungmin’s cheeks flame as he pulls his arm back and hugs it to his chest. “You’re imagining things.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Jeongin continues with an exasperated breath. “You guys have been so clingy lately, it’s crazy.”

“We share the same dorm room, Jeongin,” Seungmin argues. “It’s like, normal for us to start smelling like each other. And we’re not clingy!”

“I share a room with Felix Hyung and our clothes never smell the same.” Jeongin crosses his arms with a quirked brow. Seungmin promptly shuts his mouth, not knowing how to deny that. “Plus, how would you know if you and Hyunjin Hyung are being clingy? You didn’t even know that—”

“Shut up!” Seungmin covers his ears, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence. “Go back to your lines!”

“I’m just saying—!”

Seungmin should have expected that one of them would toe an invisible line eventually. Indulging in touch like this always leaves them wanting more, even though they don’t say it. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised that it’s Hyunjin who crosses that line first, though. Hyunjin has always been the bolder of the two. But maybe it was Seungmin, too, when he chipped, chipped, chipped away at himself to trace the lines of Hyunjin under him, bathed in moonlight against his bedsheets. They’re clothed, but the smooth plain of Hyunjin’s stomach is exposed, his shirt (Seungmin’s shirt) having ridden up while Seungmin’s hands explored underneath it.

The space between them is galaxies wide, but dizzyingly close at the same time. Seeing Hyunjin splayed out under him like this makes the veins under his skin hum with an emotion so dangerous, Seungmin almost pulls away. He doesn’t though. He doesn’t want to be the one to run away first, not when his hands are drawn to Hyunjin’s skin like they were meant to be there.

What are we doing? he wants to ask, entranced by the way Hyunjin’s breath falters under him. Just from his touch, fully clothed. Having done nothing and everything.

What are we doing?

The air around them feels heavy, but not in an oppressive way. Seungmin feels goosebumps over his arms and watches in real time as Hyunjin’s skin responds in kind to the attention he gives him. Feels the blood rush to his head.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin whispers urgently.

Seungmin’s eyes flick up. “Mm?”

Suddenly, Hyunjin looks desperate and unsure all at once, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his cheeks flushed. Seungmin’s heart hammers behind his ribs.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is barely audible, and just like that, the line is crossed and Seungmin hurtles towards the unknown.

Seungmin is on fire. Can’t Hyunjin see the flames on his skin? All he can do is nod, maybe equally as desperate, and all of a sudden there are soft palms on either side of his head, bringing him down.

Hyunjin gives him a split second to change his mind, and when he doesn’t move, closes the distance between them, and it’s everything Seungmin has ever wanted and more. His lips are softer than he thought, and he can taste his strawberry lip balm, and he smells Hyunjin everywhere, and he thinks if he could bottle this moment, he would drink from the flask over and over again just so he’d never forget this feeling. He’s kissed people before, when he was younger and before he began training, but nothing comes close to this.

Because here’s the thing. Hyunjin dissolves into the kiss like he has been waiting for it for far too long. Maybe he had been. Seungmin knows he’s been on this ride for months now. Lips hesitant, soft and curious, before he pushes forward, dragging Seungmin impossibly closer.

Seungmin’s breathing is ragged, everything about him is exposed and wanting. He’s hyperaware of everything on his skin — Hyunjin’s trembling hands, the heat in his mouth, Hyunjin’s waist under his own palms, feverish and soft.

The world is being restructured behind Seungmin’s closed eyes with every saccharine gasp he’s awarded with. The planets in his brain collide when he pulls away so he can breathe, lightheaded, and Hyunjin whines at the loss of contact. Seungmin shushes him softly, because the walls are thin and there are six other people in their dorm who could walk in at any time. Hyunjin squirms, but not for long. Just long enough for Seungmin to press an open mouth over his neck and suck against the skin ever so slightly. Hyunjin’s hands drop to his shoulders as he lets out a sharp gasp, his entire body bowing towards Seungmin, and it’s enough to push him further, to do more. To drag his mouth over Hyunjin’s collarbone, exposed with the neckline of his t-shirt askew.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin breathes, and Seungmin can tell he’s trying to be quiet. His heavy hands are over his shoulders, carding through his hair. “Don’t stop. Please.”

So he doesn’t. He lifts a half-bare leg and slings it over his hips so he can press down further, until there’s no space left between them at all. Until he thinks the inferno inside him has touched the boy under him and set him ablaze, too.

Pleasure comes in the form of long licks of heat over his limbs. He sees it now, and no matter how hard he tries to pull the blinds on them, the truth shines through the cracks anyway.

Say it, he urges himself, when Hyunjin pushes up to sit and flips them over so his thighs bracket Seungmin’s hips, rolling forward with a stuttering breath over his lips. Seungmin sees stars behind his eyes, a quiet swear falling from his mouth, and when he opens his eyes, Hyunjin looks like he’s ready to burn the entire room to the ground. Just admit it.

Still attached to the hip in front of the others. Still close. Still best friends. During the day, around the rest of their friends, it’s easy to push everything to the back of his mind where it doesn’t overwhelm him. Comfort in familiarity, or whatever. Seungmin knows how to play this role; he’s done it for all the years that they’ve known each other. And maybe it’s for the best. They have a comeback to prepare for, choreography to learn, and vocal lessons to double up on.

Seungmin buries himself in practices and lessons. No one blames him for wanting to practice more these days, so if he leaves before the others are awake and comes back in the later hours of the night, there’s well-meaning concern in his Hyungs’ sighs, but other than that, he is left alone.

He sees Hyunjin first thing when he wakes up, still tangled in his blankets, and somedays, tangled in Seungmin’s. Gives himself the mercy of simply being there with him. And then he gets up to ready himself for the day, leaves the dorm, and doesn’t return until it’s past midnight. Hyunjin comes back later than he does, and when he stumbles into the dorm after dancing for six long hours, a towel over his head and freshly washed hair dripping over his shirt, Seungmin will sneak a peek at him through drowsy eyes.

Every night, he watches Hyunjin hesitate by the edge of his bed like he wants to take a few steps backwards, towards Seungmin. He’ll turn around slowly, just to check up on him, and Seungmin will close his eyes and pretend to sleep before he’s fully rotated.

Then the mattress dips as Hyunjin slides right up against him, sighing in relief once he settles. Seungmin will spend the rest of his time awake daydreaming, about Hyunjin, about them, and everything they do in the dark.

They don’t talk about it.

He should have expected this too, but it doesn’t stop him from being a bit disappointed by it either.

Hyunjin acts like he always does, an alluring beacon of light in the center of a dark universe. He teases Seungmin, hangs off his every word, and keeps one point of contact on him at all times. They’re close and far at the same time — a dizzying combination that makes Seungmin reel. Makes him recall the distances they crossed in their relationship. The feeling over Hyunjin pressing down against him, his hips bucking up in response, chasing pleasure. All at the most inconvenient times.

Vocal lessons. Dance practice. In the recording studio. While he’s making coffee, when they’re watching another movie as a group. Hyunjin is there behind his eyelids, arching in the moonlight or leaning over his body, the cold metal of his Versace necklace kissing Seungmin’s bare chest.

If it weren’t for the fact that they take turns undoing each other at night, with wandering hands and goosebumped skin and deep purple traces of kisses, Seungmin would wholeheartedly believe that this was just a persistent fantasy, stuck to him like a second skin.

More often than not, though, Hyunjin will be the one to close the door to their room at the end of the day. All Seungmin can do is wait for him with bated breath, wonder deep down if tonight is the night Hyunjin lets him breathe, and desperately wishes that’s not the case.

He’s not running from the truth. Not really. He’s just doing what he needs to, because if he dwells on it for too long, he thinks his brain might start oozing out of his ears.

Hyunjin continues to live in Seungmin’s clothing, too. Whether it be his shirts, his hoodies, or his favourite wool scarf, Seungmin’s belongings have been appearing in Hyunjin’s closet and Hyunjin doesn’t even bother disguising it anymore.

Which, fine, Seungmin doesn’t really mind. He won’t ever admit it, but it does unspeakable things to his thoughts. Every time he blinks, he sees Hyunjin underneath him, in his t-shirt and shorts, lips bruised after countless kisses under their covers. But it’s like the little weasel knows Seungmin loves it, so he makes it a point to do it as often as he can. Especially when they’re around the others (Jeongin gives Seungmin a pointed look every time Seungmin’s head follows Hyunjin’s steps across the room).

Hyunjin has confined himself to the dance studio again, and Seungmin’s favourite hoodie has coincidentally also gone missing. Seungmin knows Hyunjin never practices wearing his clothing, just wears it to the studio and back, but he really wanted to wear that hoodie today, and it’s just a little unfair that he’s fighting for the rights to his own closet.

He rummages around Hyunjin’s drawers, sorting through the messy piles before he moves towards the closet. The hangers there are dragged left and right as he works through what he sees before eventually tugging a wrinkle-free hoodie off its perch.

Seungmin may be all but useless when he sees Hyunjin in his clothes, but that doesn’t mean he won’t fight fire with fire. He tugs the hoodie over his head and grabs his bag on the way out, sparing a glance up at the clock to confirm that, yes, his snooping through his dormmates side of the room has put him a few minutes too many behind schedule.

He makes his way through the dorm, passing by Changbin Hyung who does a double take, choking on the protein shake he’s drinking.

He eyes the hoodie. “Dude, are you two like—”

“I’m going to my vocal lesson,” Seungmin interrupts, toeing into his shoes. “I’ll see you later, Hyung.”

He doesn’t wait for him to reply, slipping out of the dorm and closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He focuses through his lesson for the full two hours, and when his instructor leaves the company building, Seungmin sticks around to practice a bit more. Usually, he and Jeongin practice their lines together, monitoring each other and bouncing suggestions back and forth. But Jeongin has his own schedule today, which means Seungmin is left singing to empty space.

Which he doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s a nice change of pace. The quiet is good for him and his scrambled brains. He practices until his throat starts itching just a bit, which is his signal to take a little break. He unlocks his phone and is taking a sip of water when he notices an inbound text from Hyunjin from about twenty minutes ago.

hwang hyunjinnie

changbinnie hyung said you’ve been practicing for a long time. stay there. i’m bringing a snack

Seungmin has no time to respond, though, because within seconds of reading the message, there’s a knock at the door, and all of a sudden the room is full of a Hwang Hyunjin, bitten pink by the cold.

Seungmin feels invigorated all of a sudden. “I just saw your message!” He eyes the plastic bag in one of Hyunjin’s hands and the coffee in the other. “Thank you for the snacks, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he replies easily, setting their food down at the edge of the table for Seungmin to go through eagerly. “I brought your favourites from the bakery. They were out of the chocolate croissants you like, but—” He stops abruptly, mid-thought. “Is that…”

“Hmm?” Seungmin lifts his chin. His eyes follow a second later, still trained on the food, but when he finally looks, Hyunjin is pinker in the face now than when he came in. “What?”

“That’s my hoodie.” Hyunjin states, and all of a sudden Seungmin understands.

“Uh, yeah,” he replies nonchalantly as he lifts one of the coffees out of the tray. “You kidnapped all of mine, and it’s cold out.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, but Seungmin can feel the weight of his gaze on his skin. Seungmin carries on, fishing out a pastry and unwrapping the plastic carefully. He takes a bite, and risks a glance up at the other boy, only to immediately look away, his face flushing. Hyunjin stares at him like he’s about four seconds away from—

“So is this food all for me or…”

The spell over him breaks, and Hyunjin begrudgingly drags the intense gaze he’s been training on him away in favour of sliding into the seat opposite to Seungmin. “No, you greedy puppy, half of it is mine.”

Hyunjin nearly drops his donut twice, and Seungmin has to move his coffee cup out of the way so he doesn’t spill the contents all over the table. He’s very clearly still blushing. Saying he feels smug would be an understatement, because satisfaction licks his insides at this new revelation of just how far he could go with this.

This, too, is a win.

He knows it was his idea to get under Hyunjin’s skin, but he didn’t expect Hyunjin to draw it out for as long as he did. Eventually, their roles reverse, with Seungmin becoming frustrated when Hyunjin doesn’t do anything. Like, seriously? They’re alone, out of the dorms, and Hyunjin doesn’t so much as touch him.

Fuck him and his stupidly kissable face. It takes palpable effort not to huff in annoyance. He feels silly all of a sudden, and more than a little rejected.

It all reaches a breaking point when Seungmin leans into Hyunjin’s space as he’s going over something he found on his phone. Maybe it was a last ditch effort to have some sort of gratification, because they are closer than is reasonably allowable.

He feels the second Hyunjin’s facade breaks, the skin on his neck tingling when he feels his hot breath blow over him. He squirms, and he leans forward, ever so slightly, as if he’s about to pull Seungmin closer.

Seungmin mentally punches the air in victory.

The time on his phone reads 11:36 p.m. It would take about ten minutes to get back to the dorms. Minho Hyung and Jeongin are usually asleep by now. Felix is usually engrossed in a computer game, with noise-canceling headphones over his ears, and 3RACHA are holed up in their studio and likely wouldn’t be home for at least another few hours.

“Seungminnie,” Hyunjin interrupts his spiel about the puppy grooming channel he’s been obsessed with lately with glazed eyes, staring right at the column of his neck. “It’s late, don’t you think? Maybe we should start heading back home.”

“Oh,” Seungmin blinks innocently and straightens. He ignores the anticipatory clench of his stomach. “You’re right. Sure.”

If they stuff their things into their bags a bit too forcefully, they don’t mention it.

The dorm is silent when they come back, close to midnight. Seungmin sets a leisurely pace to their dorm, but he’s keenly aware of how closely Hyunjin trails him, and his stomach ties itself into knots when he hears their room door lock behind him.

All of a sudden, he’s being pushed backward onto Hyunjin’s bedsheets, landing on the mattress with a winded oof! There are two heavy hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the wall. Seungmin barely has a moment to catch his breath before Hyunjin’s greedy lips find his mouth.

“You’re a tease, Kim Seungmin,” Hyunjin mumbles against him, and Seungmin shivers involuntarily. “Did you know that?”

No games, then. Noted.

“You started it.” Seungmin leans forward to capture Hyunjin’s bottom lip between his teeth, watching as the skin pulls before jumping back. Hyunjin tastes delicious, syrupy and sweet. A little bit like the coffee they drank earlier. “You ignored me the entire time we were in the studio.”

Hyunjin slips his cold hands under Seungmin’s clothes, earning a sharp hiss, but god, if Hyunjin pulls away now, he thinks he’ll lose his mind for sure. “But I was talking to you the entire time, baby.”

And, oh, Seungmin’s noise of approval at the term of endearment does not go unnoticed. Hyunjin’s mouth curves dangerously. “Or were you hoping for something else?”

Seungmin refuses to incriminate himself any further and looks away. “Were you?” he bites back, hooking a leg around his waist and yanking him closer. “How am I the tease?”

They bump against each other, chest to chest, and Hyunjin uses the new proximity to his advantage. “Like you don’t know.” He mouths the underside of Seungmin’s jaw. “Walking around in my clothes all day.”

Seungmin lets out a shaky sigh at the sensation and the husky tone Hyunjin’s voice has taken. “I-It’s just a hoodie. You take mine all the time.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, much to Seungmin’s annoyance, but it’s hard to focus on that when Hyunjin’s teeth are sinking into his pulse and his nails are skimming over his skin.

“Stop playing with me.” Seungmin grinds out, perhaps a bit desperately.

They don’t talk much after that.

Outside of this dorm, everything is the same but nothing in Seungmin’s world is familiar anymore. Hyunjin’s hoodie comes off first and Seungmin takes the opportunity to rake his eyes over his chest before their mouths find each other again. They’re messy and a bit clumsy, but he can’t find it in him to care. Every slide of their lips, every dart of their tongues, drives Seungmin up a wall. There’s too much going on and simultaneously not enough.

Seungmin wants to be ravaged, wants Hyunjin to mould him like putty into whatever pretty positions he desires. He wants to wake up tomorrow with evidence of the night imprinted on his skin.

He forgets about everything as he lets himself get pinned under Hyunjin, wrists confined above his head, as he works him up. Doesn’t even have the coherency anymore to register how needy he sounds, even though Hyunjin clearly does.

“Fuck, you’re—” Hyunjin closes his eyes from above him, lips swollen and red from the attention, as if looking at Seungmin costs him something personal. Costs him control. There are several bruises over his bare chest in various stages of healing. Some from a few days ago and fresher ones that are blooming pink against his skin. It’s sick, the way Seungmin’s stomach curls in delight at the sight, knowing he left those there. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Seungmin. Do you know that?” He laughs, shaking his head slightly, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Seungmin pulls a hand free and presses his fingers into a hickey, face flushing. “What?” and fuck him, his voice is so ruined. “What do I do to you?”

Tell me. Let me hear you say it.

Hyunjin’s voice takes on a quality he’s never heard before, deep and intense and it makes Seungmin’s head swim. “You make me burn, Kim Seungmin. You set me on fire.”

The shaky sigh that escapes Seungmin is far too obvious. “I didn’t know you thought of me like that,” he says when he feels like his mouth will form words.

“What do you even know?” Hyunjin mutters before capturing his mouth again in a hard kiss. “Nothing. You know nothing.”

Seungmin needs to breathe, needs to get oxygen in his system before he passes out. His head hits the pillow, and he barely holds back a gasp. “Says you…” His voice is frayed. “Every time you’re in the room… it’s like I can’t.. can’t think straight.”

The sly smile on Hyunjin’s face does something evil to Seungmin’s brain. “Yeah?” he breathes. Then, quieter, darker, “Do you think of this?” He grinds his hips, right over the bulge of Seungmin’s cock. “When we’re with the others?”

Seungmin groans as electricity shoots through his veins. “All the fucking time, Hyunjin.” He blinks up at him with all the desperation he feels.

All. the. time.

It’s easy to look the truth in the eye after that. There’s no way he could even begin to convince himself that he didn’t have the biggest, most incriminating crush on his best friend. The realisation is kinder to him than he anticipated; time has softened the fear that once existed in him.

The only problem is that he and Hyunjin still haven’t talked about it.

He can skirt around the conversation for as long as Hyunjin wants to, but that doesn’t mean he isn't spending every second of it feeling like he’s being made and unmade every time they touch, both innocently and behind closed doors. They haven’t done everything, haven’t gone the whole way, but they’ve done everything that matters.

Seungmin can’t bring himself to be the first one to start the conversation even if he wants to, though, a thousand scenarios running through his head.

All of this being just a means for sex for Hyunjin. That Hyunjin didn’t feel the same way as Seungmin did. Would talking about it break the dreamy bubble they’ve been lounging in? And what would happen to them and their friendship if it did?

Could they survive the fallout?

The thought of having this — of having Hyunjin — ripped away from him because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut is enough for a fist to close around his heart and squeeze tight.

He will talk about it, eventually. But not now. Right now, he wants to selfishly indulge and let Hyunjin burn away any lingering fear that chews him out. And then, when the ashes settle… then he’ll let himself think about it.

Every day, their preparation gets more rigorous. The feedback they receive during their group practices is less and less sugarcoated, and Seungmin understands that it’s just looming deadlines and pressure that make them all raw and sensitive, but it doesn’t make it easier to experience. They are all, in one way or another, approaching their limits steadily.

Seungmin does his best to press through the doubt and insecurity, but he still finds himself slipping into old habits of sleeping away the frustration until it’s far enough to be tolerable.

That night, his mattress dips and jolts him out of his half-asleep state enough to make a noise of inquiry, even though this is normal for them now.

“Ssh,” Hyunjin. Seungmin makes space for him almost immediately, and he shimmies down under the covers, and there’s the vanilla and roses again. “I’m sorry, I just—” He shifts Seungmin’s limbs, throwing his arm over his waist so they’re pressed against each other. Hyunjin takes a shaky, deep breath that makes Seungmin open his eyes and crane his neck to look down at him in concern. Hyunjin isn’t looking directly at him, though, hidden by the shadows. “This is okay, right? Can I be here?”

“This is good,” Seungmin confirms, because it is, by god this is the best feeling in the world, and that’s him being fully truthful. “You can always be here.” He tangles their ankles together. “Are you… is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says in a way that makes it seem the exact opposite. “Yeah. Just tired.” He swallows thickly. “Missed this, you know?”

“We do this every night,” he reminds him gently, flattening his palm against his spine.

“I know,” the break in Hyunjin’s voice betrays him, “I just wanted this more today.”

A pang shoots through Seungmin’s heart. “Long day?” He feels Hyunjin nod against him, and he presses a kiss against the crown of his head. He understands. Of course he does. “You worked hard, and I’m proud of you. You deserve to rest.” He wraps his arms around Hyunjin, marvelling for the hundredth time how easily someone with so much limb can curl up so small. “I’m right here if you want to talk about it, though.”

“Mm, maybe tomorrow,” Hyunjin mumbles against his shirt. “Right now, I just want to sleep.”

Seungmin understands that too, and melts against his pillows. “Then let’s sleep.”

He rubs his hand up and down Hyunjin’s spine, and just like that, he coaxes Hyunjin into taking even breaths. It’s so easy. Hyunjin relaxes so well against him, and again, Seungmin’s chest expands with something warm and thick.

In his mind’s eye, he imagines standing at the forefront of Hyunjin’s psyche and chasing away the nightmares, and hopes that when Hyunjin wakes the next morning, all he remembers are sweet dreams.

The day they spent the last couple of months preparing for arrives in a flurry of sparkly makeup and crowds full of STAY. There isn’t much time to talk, or mess around at night, with everyone hanging onto their last threads with white knuckles. Seungmin is exhausted, mentally, from constantly agonizing over the pitch of his voice on stage. He knows Hyunjin’s body aches from the energy he pours into his dance.

All they can manage to do lately is sleep in the same bed. Seungmin finds that he’s perfectly content with this.

They win once, twice, thrice, and then he blinks and by the end of the week there are seven new trophies lining the shelf in the middle of their living room. It’s a huge accomplishment for the eight of them, and they’re beyond ecstatic, especially their 3RACHA. Seungmin feels pride bubbling in his chest deep into the night and when he wakes up the next morning, too.

Despite all of the excitement, he’s grateful that they’re only doing one week of promotions. They’re exhausted; with comeback preparations and recently, confirmation of a world tour, their limits are tested every day. Everything is picking up at an alarming pace, and Seungmin feels a little out of his depth with it all. They’re stuck in the studios, in meetings, or practicing, and he just wants to breathe.

The two days that come after their final comeback performance are blissfully empty, which means when his alarm goes off at 7:00 a.m. sharp, he contemplates ignoring it in favour of spending a few more hours snoozing. Before he makes up his mind, though, Hyunjin awakens in his arms and with a huff, beats him to it.

“I hate you and your stupid alarm,” he grumbles as he flops back against the pillows. Seungmin can’t even open his eyes to check the face he’s pulling, but he has a feeling there’s a deep furrow between his brows and a pout on his lips. “It’s your day off. You don’t need an alarm to wake you up at seven a.m.”

Seungmin wants to say, It’s the only thing that keeps us on track, but all that comes out is, “Mmm nngg…”

Hyunjin snorts and stuffs his face right against Seungmin’s neck, pressing a lazy kiss there. “Go back to sleep.”

Seungmin dutifully does as he’s told, slipping back under easily.

When they wake up again, the room is much brighter. Hyunjin is on his side, scrolling through his phone, when Seungmin’s eyes blink open. He lifts his arms above his head, stretching deeply, and a small groan leaves his mouth.

Hyunjin looks back, smiling. “Good morning.” He turns his phone off and flips onto his belly to give Seungmin his full attention. He leans forward and presses a kiss against his shoulder.

Seungmin hums at the warmth the action brings, his brain still fuzzy. “Mornin’,”

It’s moments like these when Seungmin wonders if they even need to say anything. Hyunjin is the only one who can see when and what he needs so effortlessly. Isn’t it obvious?

“Everyone is still sleeping,” Hyunjin explains, settling once more. “You can go back to sleep if you want to.”

“What time is it?” More sleep sounded really, really good.

“Nine,” Hyunjin replies, gently brushing Seungmin’s fringe out of his eyes.

It’s much later than Seungmin is used to, and he knows he should probably get ready for the day if he doesn’t want to ruin his sleep schedule. It’s just hard. Hyunjin looks so soft with his hair askew and sleepy eyes. Why would he ever want to get up and leave this?

“You can let yourself rest, Seungmin,” Hyunjin says, like he knows exactly what’s going on in his brain. “You should let yourself rest.”

Seungmin makes an ambiguous noise in his throat. “Don’t feel like I can,” he whispers honestly.

“We have two days,” Hyunjin’s voice softens, “And no schedule. You can.”

He bobs his head slowly, nodding to no one in particular.

“Go to sleep, Minnie. I’ll wake you up if it gets too late.”

There’s no need for walls here. Not anymore.

He’s exhausted. He’s tired and feels a bit broken, like a teddy bear being pulled apart at the seams. Hyunjin sees it and offers him a private place to recover.

Seungmin lets himself cave and within minutes, is carried away.

It’s nearing noon when Hyunjin wakes him with soft kisses pressed over his jaw, just like he said he would. It still takes longer than usual for Seungmin to feel like he isn’t on the verge of an emotional collapse, but Hyunjin draws shapes over his chest as he waits for him to speak, and it helps ground him to the present.

“Do you want to go to a cafe?” Seungmin suggests once he has his emotions under control. His voice is groggy as he plays with the hem of Hyunjin’s shirt absently. “We can grab lunch.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” Hyunjin presses his lips against his cheek. “We can go to that one with the cats. I really liked their menu.”

Seungmin nods in agreement and tries to muster up the courage to get up. This was the first morning in a long time that they had the chance to just… talk. Even though he was the one who suggested it, he wasn’t the keenest on cutting the moment short that quickly.

That velvety feeling is back in his chest, and when he glances at Hyunjin, it only swells. Seungmin wishes they could be closer, just so he could feel him directly on his skin. Make Hyunjin feel all that he does when he looks at him.

Hyunjin appears to have the same idea. He’s closer than is strictly necessary, his eyes darting to Seungmin’s lips and then back up.

“I have morning breath,” Seungmin warns halfheartedly.

Hyunjin grins, his whisker dimples making themselves known. “And?”

“We can’t be too loud.”

“Then don’t be loud.”

And then they’re kissing, and Hyunjin wastes no time sliding on top of Seungmin, dragging the blanket over them as he presses into his mouth softly, fingers lightly cradling his jaw.

“You could’ve just woken me up,”

Hyunjin mumbles against his mouth. “And miss out on seeing you drool? No way. I needed the pictures.”

That pulls a laugh from him, and his hands start wandering. Hyunjin likes it when Seungmin holds him, skin on skin, so when he slips his hands under his shirt, Hyunjin makes a tiny, happy noise. His hands are happy to be there, too, addicted to the feeling of Hyunjin’s skin, strong but with just enough softness for them to sink into him.

Hyunjin grinds his hips forward languidly, and they both let out a breathy moan. It’s not as desperate as they have been in the past, the post-comeback drop allowing them lean to into the softness.

Seungmin’s hands drop to Hyunjin’s waist and help him move. As he rolls his own hips up to match his pace, Seungmin wonders what he needs to do so they can stay like this forever. No price is too small when it feels like nothing exists outside of their closed dorm room. Just them, stuck in this liminal space of desire and soft words and warmth. Hyunjin’s breath on his mouth and his needy sounds in his ear.

They lose track of time as they come down from their highs. Seungmin’s bones hum. Hyunjin is a pile of pliant limbs above him.

“Now we both need to shower,” Seungmin mumbles. His hands squeezes Hyunjin’s biceps absently.

Hyunjin rests his chin on him. “We can do it together and save time. And water.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

Hyunjin sighs dejectedly, “It was worth a shot.”

They slowly peel away from each other and finally get out of bed. Seungmin goes first, grabbing the first combination of clean shirt and pants he can find. He showers quickly, and as he’s dressing, he realises he’s grabbed one of Hyunjin’s shirts, and he feels warm all over again as he pulls it over his head.

He stops by the room to let Hyunjin know the bathroom is free, and then he travels to the kitchen in search of water. The rest of the dorm is still silent, everyone catching up on what they have been missing out on recently.

By the time Hyunjin comes out of the shower, it’s nearing twelve thirty.

Seungmin looks up as he enters the room, walking alarmingly fast. “Read—” He blinks. “Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin has his towel pressed against his neck, an intense blush lighting every inch of his face.

“Hyunjin.” Seungmin says again, and Hyunjin finally explains.

“You marked me!” he whisper yells.

Seungmin drops his voice in kind. “What?”

Hyunjin moves the towel and points aggressively at the side of his neck, where a bright pink mark is slowly forming over pale skin. It’s not hidden at all, and unless Hyunjin decided to wear a scarf or turtleneck all the time, it would not be hidden anytime soon. Seungmin flounders. When had he done that? He was usually so careful to keep what they do hidden.

Hyunjin smacks him with his towel. “How am I supposed to cover this up?!”

“I did that?!”

Another smack.

Seungmin tries to keep a straight face. “Maybe ice will help?”

“Not quick enough! Look how dark it is already, Minnie— Stop laughing, this is serious! What if someone sees?”

He can’t help it though, and laughter bubbles out of him no matter how hard he tries to quell it. Hyunjin cracks a smile, but he quickly attempts to cover it up with a half-hearted, entirely adorable, scowl. “You’re a menace, Kim Seungmin. I’m never letting you touch me ever again.”

“Liar,” Seungmin teases, standing up to take a closer look. It’s worse up close, but Seungmin can’t find it in him to be nervous. It’s his handiwork after all, and, well. He might like seeing it. Just a little.

“You and your damn marking kink,” Hyunjin says under his breath. “Sick bastard.”

Seungmin doesn’t bother arguing with him, and instead takes him back to their room to try to find something to help him cover up. They settle on a scarf and a large, fluffy sweater since there was still snow on the ground. Hyunjin would be a bit too warm, but the outfit passes as stylish, and no one would notice the steadily darkening mark nestled right under the layers of fabric.

Hyunjin sulks when they get outside. “It’s probably going to be, like, purple by tomorrow…”

“We’ll try covering it up with makeup,” Seungmin promises. “And we’ll ice and massage it. Hopefully that will help.”

“It better,” Hyunjin quirks a brow. “Otherwise we’re going to get a lot of questions.”

Questions.

Questions that will need answers. The right answers.

Hyunjin’s statement hangs in the air, like an apple dangling right over their heads just before it falls into their open palms.

The cat cafe is cute, with the kitties lounging lazily in the midday sun. They enter the enclosure after finishing their lunch, and although they wanted to stick around, there’s a crowd already forming, and they don’t want to risk being recognized, especially when Hyunjin has a scandal waiting to happen hidden under his clothes. So they take the long way back to the dorms, enjoying the weather as winter thaws into spring.

“You know, I’m thinking it might be easier for us if we push our beds together,” Hyunjin is saying. “Our beds on their own are a bit small, and even though I love how clingy you are, I think we’d both sleep better that way.”

Seungmin is affronted. “I’m the clingy one? Were you literally not waiting for the moment I was awake to get on top of me like, two hours ago?”

Hyunjin feigns innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Seungmin huffs and knocks his shoulder against his. “We can do that,” he agrees, once Hyunjin stops trying to knock him over in retaliation. “I don’t think sleeping all cramped like that is good for your body in the long-term.” Hyunjin glances at him from the corner of his eye at that, but Seungmin continues on, unaware of his reaction. “Although, if someone asks, I don’t know what we’d say to them.”

“Well…” Hyunjin clears his throat. He suddenly seems nervous, fiddling with the ends of his scarf. “What would you want to say to them?”

Seungmin blinks ahead. A few moments pass before the question and implication click in his brain, and his feet come to a stop.

This, right here, is the perfect opportunity he’d been waiting for.

So many thoughts and feelings rush to the surface, unbidden and unrestricted. The warmth. His longing. The raging desire that burns in him all the time, just behind it all. That I really like you and want to wake up beside you for however long you will let me. That I have spent the last five months getting to know you in an entirely new way and I don’t think I want to stop anytime soon. That we can’t get enough of each other. That I really, really like you, and—

“I would want—” Seungmin begins, carefully observing Hyunjin’s features. “—to say that sleeping in one bed is hard.” He shifts from foot to foot, trying to swallow his nervousness. “And that my boyfriend likes to jump my bones first thing in the morning, so this is just easier.”

The smile on Hyunjin’s face rivals the sun, and the chuckle he lets out is nothing short of relieving. “Yeah? I think that’s a pretty good explanation.”

Seungmin can’t seem to suppress his smile, months of worry dripping off his shoulders the same way the snow melts off the branches of the trees around them. “So you admit it, then?”

“That I’m your boyfriend?” Hyunjin breathes, eyes bright. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“I was talking about you wanting to jump my bones first thing in the morning, but I guess that works too.”

Hyunjin’s face snaps into a scowl in less than a second. Seungmin tattoos the image into his mind, over and over again. The bright blue sky, the remnants of winter, Hyunjin’s gentle features. The mark that peeks out from behind his scarf.

“Never mind. I take it back. I’m gonna stay on the other side of the room.” He pauses to think. “And I’m breaking up with you.”

Seungmin pouts and steps forward, reaching out to pull Hyunjin closer by his wrists. “I’m kidding—” He plants a kiss right at the top of his head, hiding a smile when Hyunjin starts grumbling.

“Then say sorry,” Hyunjin huffs, clearly miffed. “And then ask me to be your boyfriend again.”

Seungmin would combust into a puff of smoke if he could. Months of yearning in private and worrying about the state of their friendship seemed so inconsequential now that they had taken the leap.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin emphasizes, stepping back so he can look at Hyunjin properly. “Hwang Hyunjin, be my boyfriend, please.”

“That’s better,” Hyunjin says, and then he cups his face and kisses him right in the middle of the sidewalk, and Seungmin doesn’t even care that someone might be watching.

Dimly, he registers that this is their first kiss outside of their room, outside of the little secret they’d created for themselves. Nothing, no one, could take this moment from him.

Hyunjin pulls back with a soft smile, eyes lingering on Seungmin’s lips. “Since you asked so nicely. Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.” His thumbs smooth over his cheeks, absurdly soft, and the tip of Seungmin’s ears warm. “Took you long enough to ask.”

Seungmin blinks at first, but then with a jolt, realises the reason they had never actually talked about what they were doing was because Hyunjin had been waiting for him. The same way he had been waiting for Hyunjin.

“Hey,” Hyunjin says like he read Seungmin’s thoughts, “I was the one who did everything else. I figured it was fine if I took the backseat for this.”

Seungmin laughs breathlessly, mostly at himself. “Yeah? That’s fair. I deserve that.” He leans forward, and their foreheads touch. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“Hyung. Changbin Hyung, you see it too, right?”

“Yang Jeongin, keep your voice down, they’re right. there.”

“But you see it right?!”

“Oi, what are you two weirdos whispering about— oh my god.”

“See, I told you you were being too loud—!”

“No. fucking. way. Is that a fucking—”

“Yeah, and they think they’re so slick too—”

“Oi! Hwang Hyunjin! What the hell is that on your neck?”