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It had been an ordinary Saturday hangout that started it all – or as ordinary as it got with Yeonjun’s group of idiot friends that he had – inadvertently – collected over the first three years of university.
He had expected nothing but a nice dinner at their usual fried chicken place, three sets of sweet chili, soy-garlic and honey butter chicken plus fries shared between them all and the usual talk of annoying professors and tight deadlines, maybe the latest video game release that would get the nerds going. Normal stuff.
And it had started out that way, when they’d met up in front of the restaurant, shivering from the frigid January air and eager to get inside. Soobin, Kai and Yeonjun had been chattering away about RM’s newly released album, when finally the last two members of their group arrived, scowling at each other and debating in low voices.
The thing was, Beomgyu and Taehyun hissing at each other was part of the usual routine. It wasn’t anything to take note of, because playful or serious, those two were at each other’s necks all the time. No need to pay attention to one of their silly little arguments, he’d thought and ushered them all inside.
He was regretting that now. Maybe if he’d listened in earlier and nipped this argument in the bud, before it picked up momentum, they could have had a normal conversation for once. Since he hadn’t, he got to spend his dinner listening to the heated debate the two were having about gay smut fanfics. Specifically Beomgyu’s most recent one.
“I’m not saying it’s bad, okay?”, Taehyun argued through a mouthful of soy-garlic chicken as he gestured at Beomgyu with his free hand, “the idea is creative, your dialog is engaging and you portrayed the chemistry between them very well.”
“Gee, thanks, that makes me feel so much better”, Beomgyu hissed back and snatched the last shot of soju Soobin had just poured for Yeonjun.
“Yah, you brat, that’s hyung’s!”, Soobin exclaimed, more exasperated than genuinely mad.
That’s what it was like with kids, Yeonjun thought tiredly, after a while you just learned to roll with the punches. He waved to their server for another round.
“And I clearly need it more, since it’s my art that’s currently being torn to shreds by the critics,” Beomgyu shot back, glaring straight at Taehyun as he knocked back the drink.
“Dear god, Choi Beomgyu, way to be dramatic.” Taehyun rolled his eyes. “All I said was that your sex scenes need a little work–”
Kai piped up from beside Soobin, an evil glint in his eyes: “Actually, if I remember correctly, your words were ‘the sex scenes are an anatomical catastrophe and read like a straight teenage girl wrote down her fantasies about gay sex.’”
Beomgyu let out a wail so loud, it almost made the server drop the tray of soju bottles she was carrying to their table. She shot him a dirty look that he didn’t even notice, too busy pawing at Yeonjun in his agony.
“That sounds a bit harsh, Tyunnie”, Yeonjun chided. He let Beomgyu burrow into his side and gently petted his hair. “I’m sure Beommie’s sex scenes are great.”
On his other side, Soobin hummed in agreement: “I mean, how bad could it be?”
Famous last words.
“Oh my god”, he gasped, trying to reign in his laughter, “Beommie, what the…’slather my buns with your mayonnaise’, are you serious here?”
“Food metaphors are popular”, Beomgyu grumbled beside him, face flushed pink.
Completely deadpan, Taehyun continued reading the scene out loud to the rest of them, the chicken forgotten on the table: “As San hammered into Wooyoung’s money slot, he could feel his unreleased cum pulsating in his balls to the beat of his racing heart–”
“Ew, what the fuck”, Kai cackled.
“His lover grew ever tighter around him as he was nearing his climax, pushing back onto San’s cock with no coordination. He could feel it get jostled this way and that, the violent stretch of his cock feeling incredible– okay I can’t do this.” Taehyun let the phone clatter onto the table with a frown.
Yeonjun had to agree with the skepticism though. “How is that even sexy?”, he asked the younger, honestly curious. Maybe it was an odd kink, he shouldn’t judge too soon, right?
Beomgyu only shrugged though: “I don’t know, man, they’re going at it, in the throes of pleasure, so it’s getting messy. It’s what happens during really good sex, you can’t control yourself anymore.”
The haughty ‘ not like you would know, hyung’ remained unsaid, but Yeonjun knew it was what he meant. Not that he would have been wrong, but the implication was fucking uncalled for. At least he’d had sex, even if it had never been more than mediocre. At best.
Before he could jump at the provocation though, Soobin finally spoke up: “That’s bullshit, Gyu, what you’re describing would hurt at least one, if not both people involved in the scene. Nothing to do with pleasure or messy sex.”
Huh. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet so far, but Yeonjun hadn’t expected him to pull out his serious voice all of a sudden. Sure, the scene was ridiculous and anatomically weird, but they were all having a bit of fun at Beomgyu’s expense thanks to it.
Apparently not all of them though.
“What do you mean?” Beomgyu seemed irritated with the sudden shift of mood as well.
Soobin rolled his eyes: “Have you ever ‘bent your cock‘ during sex?”
“Uh-”
“Yeah, thought so. There’s a reason you avoid it, genius, and that’s cause it hurts like a bitch.” Soobin leaned across Yeonjun to look directly at Beomgyu. The flowery musk of his perfume mixed with the peach soju he’d been drinking and for a moment, Yeonjun was too lost in the scent to listen properly. When he tuned back in, it was to Soobin saying: “–break your dick. It’s a thing, people go to the hospital for it. Apart from which, moving like that would also tear at the bottom’s hole and not even give the right stimulation on the prostate. Nobody would derive pleasure from this.”
“Woah”, Kai whispered from the opposite side of the table, “this is unexpected.”
It was. Sure, Soobin hadn’t been a blushing virgin for a while, had lost his virginity the same summer in high school Yeonjun had lost his, but it wasn’t like he spoke much about his sex life, usually. But this…he was clearly confident in what he was talking about.
“I told you it was whack”, Taehyun rounded on Beomgyu, “and super inconsistent too, they keep changing positions and always have a free hand, even if one of them is holding the other up. And then suddenly they’re coming without build-up–”
“Fuck, fine, I got it, I just won’t write anymore”, Beomgyu spat, demonstratively turning away from them. It may have seemed bratty, but Yeonjun could tell he was genuinely hurt.
As could Soobin, clearly: “Nobody’s saying that, Gyu. Didn’t Taehyun-ah say the rest of your writing is good?”
“Great, even”, Taehyun grumbled out, “which makes the smut so much more annoying. They’re all cute, your heart is pounding, and suddenly he’s asking for mayonnaise–”
“Tyunnie”, Yeonjun interrupted with a sigh, “not helping.”
“Just– do a little research on the scenes you wanna write, Gyu-yah”, Soobin suggested gently.
With a sniffle, the younger finally turned back around: “I do! Do you have any idea how many smut fics I’ve read? And the porn– fuck, I’ve watched hours of–”
“Oh my god, shut up”, Taehyun hissed with a nervous look to the waitress and ahjumma chatting in the kitchen. Kai cackled again, reaching for more soju.
Again, Soobin frowned: “Your sources are other potentially uninformed writers and…jerk-off fodder. How do you expect to get anything even vaguely realistic out of that?”
“And who says I want that?” Beomgyu was glaring at them all, one by one. “Art has no need for realism, so why does my smut have to be held to such standards? What does it matter as long as it’s hot.”
“Uh, cause it’s literally not?”, Kai burst out, followed by a nervous laugh. He must have been more inebriated than Yeonjun thought. With a quick swipe, he secured the soju bottle from his grasp. Just in case.
“Fuck off”, Beomgyu grumbled. “My readers–”
“Your readers only ever complain about the smut. And all your fics without it get so much more engagement, it’s ridiculous.” Taehyun took the bottle from Yeonjun and carefully filled up Beomgyu’s shot glass. “Face it, hyung, your smut needs an upgrade. I’m saying this out of respect for the rest of your writing, okay? Your stories deserve better.”
Beomgyu knocked back the shot. “Fine. Tell me then, what should the sex be like, huh?”
“Anatomically correct?”, Taehyun deadpanned, provoking another squeaky laugh from Kai.
“Fuck you.”
“After reading what you think sex is? No thank you.”
Yeonjun sighed. It felt like that was all he’d done tonight. “Guys–”
“Make it a dialog.”
It was the second time Soobin’s words plunged their table into silence.
“Huh?”
Beside Yeonjun, Soobin shifted his weight so he was leaning on the table with one of his elbows, turned to look straight at Beomgyu and, since he was sitting in the way, Yeonjun. His eyes were unreadable, but there was an amused tilt to his lips that sent a jitteriness through Yeonjun he couldn't explain.
“Sex is a dialog, more than anything. It’s not one person doing something to the other, but a two-way street. During good sex, you’ll talk. Shit, during the best sex I’ve had, we actually laughed a lot.”
How much sex have you had?!, Yeonjun wondered absentmindedly.
Soobin seemed to think for a moment. “You’re really focused on the mechanics. If you want to avoid messing those up, stick to the basics and add detail instead.”
“Like what?” Beomgyu sounded breathless, leaning forward and staring with wide eyes. The rest of them weren’t faring any better, hanging onto Soobin’s lips like he was a prophet.
He shrugged: “What you’d feel in the moment. You know, missionary can be the hottest thing ever, if you take your time and focus on your partner. It’s not just sticking it in or rubbing here and there, is it?”
Isn’t it? Yeonjun thought, instantly cringing at his own naivete. That was certainly what sex with his exes had been like.
“It’s the moment you share only with that person. How they smell, taste, the way their skin feels under your hands. It’s a challenge to figure out exactly how they like to be touched and what gives away their pleasure. How fucking hot they are when you make them feel good.”
At this point, Soobin’s voice had dropped lower, almost to a growl. Yeonjun shivered, and suddenly the other’s eyes were on him.
“Take Junnie-hyung”, Soobin said, tilting his head as he scrutinized him, “he has a sensitive scalp, right? You like your head scratched, right hyung?”
“Uh-huh?”, he croaked out, unmoving.
“So it’s a toss-up. Will you like your hair pulled, like the sting of it at the nape of the neck while somebody’s driving into you? Or will the pain distract you from the pleasure?”
He could feel Soobin’s breath on his face. Had he come closer or had Yeonjun? He didn’t know. All he knew was that his face was burning, his neck tingling with the phantom sensation of his best friend’s hand in his hair.
Fuck.
Soobin’s voice was almost a purr: “It’s worth a try to figure it out, don’t you think? Figure out what makes that person tick.” His eyes bored into Yeonjun’s, dark and teasing. Then, suddenly, he turned back to Beomgyu and explained, voice back to a casual lecturing tone: “That’s what you’re lacking, Gyu, questionable mechanics and vocabulary choices aside. You write about a cock and a hole, not two people.”
“Oh”, the younger replied faintly, pink high in his cheeks.
Yeah , Yeonjun had to agree, ‘oh’ indeed.
He’d been wanting to ask, after that night.
It should have been easy, really, to ask his best friend since childhood what the fuck he had been getting up to in bed since their first awkward conversation about having lost their respective virginities. And opportunities to ask were aplenty – they lived together, for god’s sake. A simple “Soobin, yo, where the fuck have you learned so much about sex?” over chinese take-out would have done it.
And yet, he hadn’t managed to broach the subject.
Maybe it was for the best. That first conversation when they were eighteen had been…weird. Yeonjun remembered the uneasy feeling it had left behind in his stomach. The way he had wondered if Soobin’s experience had been anything like his own. If his orgasm face looked as weird as the dude Yeonjun had given his first time to. If maybe Soobin had been more gentle than–
And that’s why he had never asked again. If Soobin told him one thing, he’d only want to dig deeper, hear about it all. There had always been something about his best friend that made Yeonjun want to figure him out. You’d think after being in each other’s lives for close to twenty years, Soobin would have ceased to surprise him, that he would know what the fuck went on in the other’s head. But the younger still managed to pull the rug from under him all. the. damn. time.
So he didn’t ask and resigned himself to not knowing. And after a week, he even felt like he could look at Soobin without the phrase break your dick echoing through his brain or trying to picture what kind of sex life his best friend led. It was pure bliss.
So he should have known it wouldn’t last.
After the day he’d had, Yeonjun really could have done with a quiet evening, was the thing. His management professor had sprung a quiz on them that morning that he’d been woefully underprepared for (and that was putting it nicely) and the day had gone downhill from there. He’d spilled his americano on his shoes, the book he needed to check out from the library was nabbed from right under his nose by a stuck-up business major (Yeonjun was taking it as a minor, an important distinction he liked to think) and finally his dance class had gone overtime since they kept messing up the choreography.
By the end of it, all Yeonjun wanted to do was curl up on the couch with two bowls of ramen and stare at Soobin while he watched his current anime of choice. If anyone had told him he’d be wishing for this before he’d moved in with Soobin, he’d have laughed in their face. Anime was one of the things they squabbled about, Soobin a complete Otaku while Yeonjun was the farthest from interested in that type of thing you could be. And yet it had become a thing they did sometime over the last two years they had been living together. He wasn’t sure if Soobin was aware that Yeonjun wasn’t actually watching what he put on, but the younger seemed happy enough with their arrangement.
As he trudged up the steps to their apartment, he tried to remember what Soobin was watching right now. Something funny meant dimples galore and Soobin throwing himself onto Yeonjun everytime something made him laugh, while action usually resulted in being slapped on his thighs for every exciting scene. Emotional shows…well, they only needed two words: hand! holding!
Every choice had its perks, but with the state he was in, Yeonjun quietly wished for an emotional one. Violet Evergarden had been his personal favorite, though he’d maybe looked at the screen twice for the whole run of the show. Every episode had been heartwrenching enough for Soobin to bite his lip and tear up, reaching out to Yeonjun for comfort he was glad to give. Maybe he’d suggest they rewatch it tonight. Soobin was always thrilled if he showed an active interest in anime, so surely he’d humor him.
All his plans went out the window, though, when he heard a very familiar cackle as he reached to unlock the door.
A deep, bone-tired sigh escaped his lips.
Of course this was how the night was going to go. After all, Beomgyu wouldn’t be Beomgyu if he wasn’t out to ruin his life at every opportunity.
…he’d just never been this creative before, Yeonjun thought after he’d swung open the door.
Cackling like a maniac, Beomgyu was perched on his and Soobin’s ratty couch with a pen and notebook in his hands. He was watching Soobin, who was crouched on the floor where their couch table would usually sit, holding onto a mop and…moving.
No, not moving, grinding against the mop. Humping, even.
What the fuck, Yeonjun thought.
“What the fuck“, he said out loud.
Soobin whipped around, eyes wide and rapidly going a deep, dark red.
“Hyung“, he breathed, voice feeble, "I thought you‘d be home late?“
“I am.“ He stared some more, hoping the scene would start to make more sense the longer he looked. It didn’t. With another sigh, he gave in: “What are you doing?”
“Uhhhm–“ The glint in Soobin’s eyes told him he was ready to bullshit him, just to get out of whatever this particular pickle was. Humping a mop, his brain reminded him unhelpfully.
“You see–“, Soobin hedged.
“Forget it”, Yeonjun interrupted him, knowing full well that whatever answer he was going to get wouldn’t be the truth anyway. Instead, he turned to the little devil he unfortunately called his friend: “BG, what the fuck is this idiot doing? The truth.”
Beomgyu smiled, large and unhinged, and said: “Soobin-hyung is demonstrating the variations of doggy style for me.”
Yeonjun stared. Let his eyes wander back and forth between the other two. Pinched his nose.
“And why”, he ground out, “is he doing that?”
Soobin cleared his throat: “He asked me to. Stood in front of the door and–“
“Hey hey hey, let’s not pretend you didn’t offer.” Beomgyu looked affronted. “All I asked was that you tell me about sex and help me script the scene I need for my fanfic. Demonstrating the position was your idea.”
“Because you were too thick to get what I was saying–“
“I mean, I can’t say that I understand what the fuck you’re doing with that mop”, Beomgyu drawled. Before Yeonjun could feel vindicated in his skepticism though, the little shit turned his evil, beady eyes on him and said: “I think it would be much better if there were a second person to demonstrate with. It’s a dynamic pose after all.”
“I think the fuck not, you lunatic”, he deadpanned.
At the same time, Soobin snorted: “As if that would help.”
Yeonjun’s eyes snapped to Soobin, catching him mid eye roll.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Soobin, bless his heart, at least had the decency to look remorseful at his prickly tone. He seemed to choose his words very carefully when he answered: “I just meant that you’re not the most experienced yourself, hyung. If you don’t know what to do, what use is there to have you demonstrate with me?”
He tried very hard not to let his hackles rise at Soobin’s words. His tone had been decidedly neutral, but he could see how the younger avoided his eyes. He remembered clearly how he had rolled his own just seconds ago.
“So what”, he snapped, “I’m useless at sex then, Soobin-ah? Might as well not bother?”
Soobin jerked his head up, eyes wide and shocked as they met his. “What? That’s not what I said, hyung, why would you–“
“Isn’t it? I don’t know what I’m doing, so why bother even trying.”
“It’s not like it’s real sex”, Soobin reminded him exasperatedly.
And he knew that. There was no point to get this upset about Soobin’s throwaway comment, but it had hit a sore spot.
But of course Soobin wouldn‘t be aware of it, since they never spoke about their love or sex life. And even Beomgyu had only gotten the spark notes of his past relationship. Mediocre, boring sex and a boyfriend that shot down Yeonjun’s attempts at changing it up. Nothing bad, nothing painful...
Except that his ex hadn’t just been a boring guy who wanted to do it missionary because he was too vanilla for anything else – which was what Yeonjun had told Beomgyu back then. At the surface, that seemed to be it. But the way he went about it had told another story.
Just lie still and shut up.
You’re lucky your face is pretty enough to make me come.
This is all you’re good for.
It had hurt to be told over and over how useless he was in bed. In the beginning he’d still wondered how he was supposed to be good at it if he’d only slept with one other guy before. Shouldn’t they have tried different things so he could get better at it? But his ex had disagreed whenever he voiced the thought.
Why bother?, he’d said.
Just like Soobin.
“Whatever”, he snapped and turned towards his room. “Have fun with the mop then.”
“Hyung…”, Beomgyu called after him, but nothing followed. No come back, or Soobin is an idiot, just forget it.
Not that it would have stopped him from leaving anyway. Beomgyu wasn’t the one who had to say something, and Soobin wasn’t all that good at conflict when it included himself. The others he’d sit down and mediate for them until they’d talked it out, but since this was between Soobin and Yeonjun…
He already dreaded the puppy dog eyes and sheepish gestures of apology that would follow their argument. When he came out later tonight, Soobin would probably be lingering in the kitchen, a cup of his favorite ramen ready to shove at Yeonjun.
He didn’t expect a spoken apology after having been friends with Soobin for this long.
Which was exactly why he almost jumped out of his skin in surprise when a large, warm hand grasped his wrist just before he could escape into his room.
“Hyung”, Soobin said quietly, “hyung I– I’m really sorry.”
“What?!” He whirled around to face Soobin, had to make sure it really was his best friend and not a pod person that had replaced him when Yeonjun wasn’t looking.
Seriously, this was a first. At least, a first since they’d outgrown the age of being forced to apologize by their mothers for stupid fights in the sandbox. He probably hadn’t heard a proper I’m sorry, hyung from Soobin since they were five. Little notes tied to nude Peperos, (Yeonjun’s favorite), longer letters even, and tons and tons of let’s-please-make-up gifts? Sure.
But words?
Instead of vanishing like the illusion this should have been, Soobin was staring at him with the guiltiest look he’d ever seen on his face.
“I shouldn’t have said that”, he continued, so serious it was kind of scaring Yeonjun. Sure, he’d been hurt, but it wasn’t like Soobin could have known how deep that small comment would cut.
“It doesn’t matter that you’re inexperienced. Nobody should ever be shamed for sex, whether they have it or not”, Soobin said, so very serious. “I should know that, I do know that, but I still did it to you and I’m so sorry, hyung!”
“I– it’s…it’s okay, Soobin-ah.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Apparently, it was the wrong thing though.
“It really isn’t okay”, Soobin muttered, casting his eyes down. Yeonjun felt relieved to not be pinned by his unyielding stare anymore, but it also made it harder to read him behind his messy mop of hair. “You have every right to be mad at me about it.”
“You apologized.“
"I know, but I still…I made you feel bad about yourself for one of the most intimate and vulnerable things. That’s…it’s serious. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.“
This earnesty was…unexpectedly sweet. He could feel something warm growing in his stomach that soothed the acidic shame that had bubbled in there earlier.
“Isn’t it up to me whom I forgive?”, he said lightly. “Besides, I’ve gotten used to it. Not like you’re the one who did the real damage, Soobinnie.”
“Huh?” Soobin’s eyes snapped back up, hands fluttering to Yeonjun’s shoulders like he wanted to reach out, but he pulled them back at the last second. “What do you mean you got used to it?”
Shit.
He hadn’t really meant to say that. They didn’t talk about this stuff.
Except, apparently, they did now.
“It’s uh…just my ex. We didn’t really do much in bed because…he said I’d be useless at it anyway.” The last part wasn’t much more than a mumble. It was embarrassing to admit that someone he’d spent more than a year of his life dating had thought about him this way. Had tried it out with him and decided that all he was good for was to lie still and look pretty.
“What the fuck?” It was more of a growl than a proper sentence, making Yeonjun shrink back further from Soobin. This time, the younger didn’t hold back from touching him, grasping his shoulders to pull him closer. “Are you serious?! He called you useless?”
“I…yeah”, he admitted in a small voice. “He said it was…easier to just fuck me when I wasn’t moving than telling me how to do it.”
Soobin looked murderous now.
“Hyung”, he growled, “hyung if I ever run into that piece of shit again, I’ll kill him.”
“Wha– what?”
“How could he say that to you? God now I get why you reacted like that earlier, I basically…shit, I basically agreed with him, didn’t I?” He let go of one shoulder to run a hand through his hair in stress. “You have to know I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I don’t. I don’t think that about you at all. Not just because it’s complete bullshit, because even if you were a fucking klutz who couldn’t move at all, sex could still be fun with you, okay? But I also know that you’re not. You’re a dancer, for fuck’s sake, you learn choreography all day every day, and you’re so fucking sexy already. He’s insane!”
He felt himself flush at the compliment, but he couldn’t bask in it the way he usually would. The discomfort of the topic still gnawed at his insides and he couldn’t help but doubt Soobin’s words.
“What if he isn’t, though?”, he said quietly.
Soobin blinked at him, flabbergasted.
“Are you serious? Hyung, you can’t actually think that you would be bad at sex.”
He shrugged, not meeting Soobin’s eyes. It wasn’t necessarily that he thought that, but he also didn’t not think that. There was simply no way for him to know – and at this point, he felt so insecure about it, he wasn’t sure he’d want to find out.
Clearly, Soobin was of a different opinion.
“Okay”, he said, nodding. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Wh-what? Where are we–“
“You’re gonna help me demonstrate for Beomgyu.” He wasn’t looking back at Yeonjun, but from his tone alone, he could imagine Soobin’s face. Brows drawn, mouth set in a frown. His serious face, the one that left no room for disagreement.
“You said I’d be usele–… that I wouldn’t help”, he protested anyway. Soobin had said that.
The younger only shrugged: “Yeah well, it might not be the most time efficient way of going about it, but who cares? If he wants help with his smut scenes, he’ll have to take the time.”
It was a nice sentiment, really, but it still didn’t sit right with him. He hadn’t been the one to ask for this, he sure didn’t need to get in on the action out of Soobin’s pity for his underfucked ass.
Just as they were about to enter the living room, Yeonjun pulled them to a stop and hissed: “You don’t have to include me just because you’ve unlocked my secret sex trauma, Soobin.”
An annoyed look shot across Soobin’s face as he looked back at him.
“I’m not including you”, he argued, not quite as quiet as Yeonjun would have liked, “I’m going to show you that your ex was a fucking asshole who wouldn’t know good sex if it jizzed him in the face.”
Blushing a violent, raspberry red, he coughed out a pathetic “what?” and let himself be pulled along into the living room where Beomgyu sat waiting – and valiantly pretending that he hadn’t tried to listen in on them. Not like his innocent face could fool Yeonjun.
“So I’m getting a live demonstration after all?”, he asked sweetly.
Soobin rolled his eyes and ignored him. Turning to Yeonjun, he asked: “So, top or bottom?”
It made him choke on his own spit, so violently that Beomgyu sprang up from the couch to pound on his back until he’d stopped hacking his lungs out.
“Really, Soobin? You couldn’t have put it a little more delicately?”, he scolded the other.
“Why?” There was genuine puzzlement in Soobin’s expression. “It’s just a technical question.”
Blinking tears from his eyes, Yeonjun wheezed: “It’s not like I would know, is it?”
That caused both Beomgyu and Soobin to stare at him in astonishment.
“Wait. Have you never even tried switching?”, Soobin asked.
While Beomgyu said: “Isn’t it just what you’re most interested in trying?”
“Uhm”, he cleared his throat, trying to buy time before humiliating himself further. “I mean, I’ve only ever bottomed. It seemed like the thing to do, so…”
“Do you want to bottom though?”, Soobin pressed.
His face once again had that incredibly serious look he only seemed to get when talking about sex. What was it about the topic that made Soobin so…self-assured? Responsible? Authoritative?
Hot.
He squashed that last unbidden thought down and tried to think about Soobin’s question instead.
Did he want to bottom?
It wasn’t that he didn’t want it. The idea wasn’t uncomfortable. With his ex, the experience hadn’t really been all that pleasurable, but it hadn’t been horrible. Tiresome, sometimes, when he wasn’t in the mood, and embarrassing when it was taking too long to stretch him and the lube made weird squelching sounds. But that was it.
“I don’t really care”, he said.
Soobin sighed. “Hyung… Yeonjun. We’re not doing this unless you tell me what you’re more comfortable with.”
Beomgyu nodded in agreement, unusually serious for his standards.
“You said this wasn’t real sex”, Yeonjun parroted his words from earlier back at him.
“It isn’t”, Soobin agreed with a tilt of his head. “But it is a sexual context and you clearly have some hang ups about that. So I need you to tell me how you want to do this. If you want to do this at all, actually.”
“I would graciously forgive you for sacrificing the quality of my smut, if you’re not comfortable, by the way”, Beomgyu added with grandeur. Yeonjun felt his palms itch with the impulse to choke him.
“Gyu”, Soobin warned, glancing at the younger, “I’m being serious here.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine”, Yeonjun sighed, before Soobin could get even more oddly protective. “I uh…I don’t mind doing this.” Feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, he added: “I uh…I think I want to. I mean, when else will I get the chance to practice without actually having to…you know.”
Soobin nodded understandingly.
“Just…don’t make fun of me if I’m bad, okay?”, he added quietly.
“We won’t. I promise.” Another sharp look at Beomgyu ensured that the youngest was on board as well.
“Okay. Then uh…about topping or bottoming. I’m just…I’m not sure. Bottoming was fine for me, so we can just do that.”
Soobin scrutinized him carefully. “You weren’t scared? Intimidated? Embarrassed?”
“Not…not about being on the bottom, I think.”
It took another long, contemplating stare until, finally, he agreed: “Okay then. Bottoming it is.”
“Are you comfortable being on top, though?”
Soobin’s brows jumped up, clearly surprised at his question. Beside him, Beomgyu cackled at his face. At least the brat was laughing at both of them, then.
“If you’re asking me, shouldn’t I be asking you too?”, Yeonjun shrugged, already feeling another blush warming his cheeks.
It was worth it though, with the way it brought a smile to the Soobin’s face. “Thank you for asking, hyung. I am comfortable on top. I prefer it, usually, but I don’t really mind bottoming either.”
That…was more than he had needed to know. But alright, they were doing this now. Sharing sexual preferences. Cool. Very cool. That was what best friends did, right? If anything, they’d been weird for not doing it before.
“So uh…how…do we do this?”, he mumbled, trying to will away the perpetual blush.
Beomgyu hopped back over to the couch, settling in with a pillow over his crossed legs and a notebook.
“Soobin was showing me different variations for doggy style”, he recounted, completely unashamed. “Why don’t you start from there?”
“Okay. Do I just…?” He gestured at the floor in front of the couch.
“Yup. Hands and knees, hyung”, Soobin said and gently pushed him forward. His tone wasn’t even particularly sexy, but it still sent a frisson of heat through Yeonjun.
“Okay so, You’re opening him up first, right? How many fingers did you say you were doing?”, Beomgyu asked with a concentrated frown.
Soobin hummed and settled himself on his knees behind Yeonjun. They weren’t touching, but the idea alone made him nervous.
“I’d normally use three, at least. Given that hyung hasn’t had the best experience and isn’t used to taking somebody my size–”, good god, what did that mean? “–I’d probably do four just in case”, Soobin mused. Then, much too clinically sounding for Yeonjun’s taste, he instructed: “spread your legs a little for me, hyung. I need to be able to kneel between them.”
“Uh…right.”
What the fuck had he been thinking when he agreed to this? That was his best friend kneeling between his legs, scooting closer until he could feel the heat from his thighs and crotch on his ass. This was insane.
What was more insane was that he didn’t want to stop.
“Lube or no lube?”
It seemed like an obvious question to Yeonjun (lube, of fucking course lube!), but Soobin clicked his tongue.
“Personal preference. It’s advisable to use as a beginner, because you won’t know how wet is wet enough at first, but eventually, just spit works fine as well. Most guys I’ve slept with even prefer it to feel a bit more friction.”
The more you know, he thought. They’d always done it with lube. His ex didn’t like spit on his dick. He’d called Yeonjun a filthy whore the one time he’d tried to give him head. He hadn’t tried again.
Beomgyu hummed in interest. “So he’s prepped. What now?”
“I press in slowly”, Soobin said. One of his hands had found its way to Yeonjun’s hip, a large, hot brand he could feel through the layers of his clothes. He squeezed comfortingly as he explained: “I’ll hold onto my cock to steady it and take my time. It depends on your partner how fast you can push in. The more relaxed they are, the easier and more comfortable it is.”
Yeonjun couldn’t imagine relaxing right now. He felt flushed all over, embarrassment mixing with curiosity and want. He wanted to know how it would feel to have his partner listen, take note of his body the way Soobin described.
“You okay, Jun?”, Soobin asked softly. He was half leaning over his back, warmer and closer now.
“Mhm”, he hummed, “not like this is real.”
Soobin’s hand came up, from his hip to his side. He stroked gently, the warmth of his hand more noticeable now that it was only the flimsy jersey of Yeonjun’s dance tank top separating them.
“I’m aware”, he murmured lowly. Yeonjun had no idea if Beomgyu could even pick up the words or if they were meant solely for him. “If this were real, I wouldn’t even get the tip in with how tense you are.” The comment could have stung, but Soobin’s voice was so quietly amused that it made him chuckle instead.
“Sorry”, he whispered. Then, with a sudden bout of confidence, he pushed back against Soobin’s crotch and argued: “But that is at least in part due to what you’re packing. What is that in your pants, an anaconda?”
It drew a snort from Soobin: “I’m not even hard, hyung.”
“Well then I’m definitely doing something wrong in this scenario, aren’t I?”
Soobin pinched his side. He retaliated by reaching back to slap his ass, but he couldn’t really reach properly. It just made them jostle against each other awkwardly, an uncoordinated grind that sent sparks up Yeonjun’s spine.
“Ah– careful”, Soobin gasped, both hands gripping tightly onto his hips.
And oh. That felt a little too good for such an innocent gesture. It made him want to try to wiggle out of his grasp, to feel his fingertips dig deeper into the flesh of his hips, to hold him still the way Soobin wanted him to be.
Maybe he wanted to feel Soobin’s hands right on his skin, find out just how sensitive he would be to their softness. Soobin took care of his hands, he wouldn’t stand for calluses or dry skin. If his fingers felt this good on his hips, then how good would they feel on his–
“Yah, what are you two idiots doing?”, Beomgyu complained. “Is this still part of the scene? I can’t tell.”
Shit. Get it together, Yeonjun.
Behind him (or was he above him?), Soobin cleared his throat. “Sorry Gyu, just joking around.”
“Well where are we in the scene then?” He sounded petulant.
“He’s inside me”, Yeonjun croaked out. “Don’t move, though. It always takes me a bit to adjust.”
He could hear Soobin swallow. “Okay”, he said, “take your time.”
It was awkward, the way they were kneeling there. It wasn’t really like Soobin was inside of him and he had to adjust, but there was still…something. A tension in the air, a newness of Soobin close to him in this way, bent over his back and hands stroking over his sides, ghosting lower occasionally to touch his stomach.
He needed to clear his head before he did something embarrassing like tell him to hold him tighter.
“Move”, he ground out eventually.
“Okay.” For the first time today, Soobin sounded strained as well. He was close enough, chest touching Yeonjun’s back, so he could feel him move to look up at Beomgyu. “Shallow thrusts first. Test the waters.”
And he did. He was fucking thrusting against Yeonjun’s clothed ass now, little rolling motions that made his abs flex and release where they were pressed together. When he tentatively tried to match the rhythm, move back against Soobin, his encouraging hum sent a rush of warmth through Yeonjun.
This had no business feeling as intimate as it did. They were both fully dressed, kneeling on their living room floor and fucking dry humping in front of one of their best friends. And it still felt so much better, so much more exciting than anything Yeonjun had done with his ex.
“Can you guys turn a little?”, Beomgyu interrupted his thoughts. “I want to see the way Soobin-hyung moves his hips. It looks like a swivel from here, but…”
“Fine.” Soobin sounded annoyed. To be honest, Yeonjun agreed. Firstly because they had to stop and secondly because it was fucking humiliating to shuffle around like this.
“Great”, Beomgyu exclaimed when their left side was facing him, “continue please.”
As Soobin picked back up with his little grind, Yeonjun had to avert his face so Beomgyu wouldn’t see his blush. Something had changed, it felt more intense now, harder–
“Pick up the pace”, Soobin instructed and shifted his torso up a little higher, hands wandering down Yeonjun’s body to his hips. “Hyung, work with me, okay? Do what feels right with the rhythm.”
“I– I don’t–“
“Yes you do”, Soobin interrupted immediately, “just do what you would if you were dancing, ‘kay?”
It sounded stupidly simple like this, but it didn’t really feel that way. His hips seemed to be notoriously at odds with Soobin’s, sometimes not quite meeting, others bumping too hard for comfort. He winced at the thought of Soobin’s poor dick that was caught between them, but the younger didn’t say anything. Instead, he gripped his hips harder.
“Here”, he murmured, “like this.”
He was moving Yeonjun like an extension of himself, hands sure and steady on him, gripping tighter when he pulled him closer, then letting him find his own movement as they separated.
It felt easy like this, with Soobin in control. Natural.
Ah. He got it now. It really was like dance, just not in the way he usually did it. He wasn’t on his own, controlling his body how he wanted, sharp, abrupt, powerful. No, this felt like he was being led in a pair dance, a slow waltz picking up speed, spinning him across the dance floor effortlessly, lifting him up to make his stomach swoop.
He was just getting into it, Soobin’s hands loosening more and more, when Beomgyu exclaimed: “Is that it? I thought you were gonna show me some variation, Soobin.”
“Hyung!”, they both corrected at the same time.
“I’ll call you hyung when you share your wisdom with me, not when you’re showing a simple back and forth motion I can describe in a single sentence–“
“You could describe this in a lot more words, talk about how it feels, the emotions behind it or something. It’s not our fault you have the imagination of a blank sheet of paper and have never gotten laid before”, Yeonjun snapped at him.
“Like you can tal–“
“OKAY!”, Soobin interrupted, voice booming. His hips had stilled and he was pulling Yeonjun back by his left shoulder so he would look at him. His face was annoyed: “Neither one of you has fucked a lot, we get it, but that doesn’t matter, we’re here to learn and not judge each other.”
“Sorry”, Yeonjun mumbled towards Beomgyu. The other looked properly chastised too and nodded back at him.
“Me too.”
“Good”, Soobin ground out. “I don’t want to see it happen again.”
This time, it was shame that was making his cheeks flame. Although it didn’t happen all that often, Soobin still had an air of righteousness about him, a moral compass that seemed to point North every time Yeonjun’s slipped, that made him desperate to correct himself, find his way back into Soobin’s good graces.
“It won’t”, he promised, looking anywhere but at Soobin’s eyes.
The younger nodded and let go of Yeonjun’s shoulder so he could finally relax his posture.
“Gyu, you too”, he requested.
“Fine”, Beomgyu muttered. “I won’t say it again, alright? Can you still show me something I don’t already see in porn like all the time?”
Porn.
Something Beomgyu had seen in porn.
That’s what he was doing right now. And with his best friend, too. Sure, they weren’t naked, but…
He shook himself, trying to get the thought out of his head. They weren’t naked after all. There was no need to think about it, to imagine what Soobin’s stupid, ridiculously shredded abs would feel like pressed against his back, to unzip his jeans and find out just how big his cock was once it was erect, to taste, to feel–
“You okay, hyung?”
He jumped at the interruption of his thoughts, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes nervously. It wouldn’t be out of character for him to tease, blurt out just how fucking pathetically affected Yeonjun was right now, but instead– he looked genuinely concerned.
“I know you don’t like to talk about–”, he started quietly, shooting a look at Soobin and then biting his lip as if to stop himself from talking again.
“I’m fine”, Yeonjun said, sitting up to face his friend head-on. “Really, I was the one who crossed the line first, you just followed.”
“Still, I get it if you don’t want to keep going…”
“I do! Really I–”
“You sure, hyung?”, Soobin spoke up. His hand had found its way back to his hips and he squeezed gently, comfortingly.
“Yes, I’m sure, you stubborn asshole. I’m not fragile, okay? Stop treating me like I’ll have a breakdown if you touch me a certain way”, he snapped back impatiently
A look back at Soobin showed just how unimpressed he was with that reaction: “I’m not saying you will, Yeonjun. But you said yourself–”
The lack of honorifics just made him roll his eyes: “And now I’m saying that I don’t mind. It’s you, Binnie. My best friend, who apparently is some sort of sex guru–”
“I’m really not.”
“–and super into consent, so like, there’s no way I’m uncomfortable with you.” Before Soobin could respond, he added: “Also, BG needs us right now. Imagine if he left now, he’d write something horrible like ‘his big schlong pistoned in and out of his ass like a machine’. We gotta show him how it’s done.”
“I would not write it like that”, Beomgyu protested. A second later, when Soobin’s hoarse, squeaky laugh rang out, he grumbled: “You’re both such assholes. And you’re not even being useful right now.”
“Tell that to him, he’s the guru here”, Yeonjun giggled, earning himself a pinch to the side from Soobin.
It made Beomgyu perk up again though: “Honestly Mr. Guru, show us!”
With a sigh and another pinch, this time to Yeonjun’s hip, Soobin relented: “Fine. We’ll change the angle then. This is amazing if you’re on the bottom.” He looked at Beomgyu, waiting patiently as he scribbled that down. Then he addressed Yeonjun: “Hyung, can you go down on your elbows for me?”
His elbows?
He moved as instructed and felt his blush deepening embarrassingly. It shouldn’t have made that much of a difference, he thought, but now that he actually was down there…Oh yes, he could see how this would be good. How this angle would make sure Soobin reached exactly where he’d want his cock–
–if they ever were to have sex.
Which, of course, they wouldn’t.
Soobin cleared his throat, hands patting Yeonjun’s hips awkwardly as he adjusted the position of his knees. They were starting to hurt a little and he distantly wondered how bad it would be if he weren’t wearing clothes.
“If you’re comfortable–”, Soobin started.
“I am”, he croaked.
“Then we’ll keep going. Gyu, pay attention to the different places I can put my hands like this, ok?” He moved them from Yeonjun’s hips to his waist, slowly, teasingly. It hiked up his shirt, but Soobin didn’t bother to fix it. Had he even noticed? Could he have missed the way Yeonjun’s skin burned under his fingertips?
“I could play with his nipples this way”, Soobin murmured. He was close enough again for Yeonjun to feel his hot breath between his shoulder blades. “Or I could hold onto his shoulders for leverage.”
He couldn’t even process the switch in position, Soobin’s hands already tightening on his shoulders, using them to pull him back against his crotch hard. Leverage, indeed. He had to close his eyes from the onslaught of sensation, the tight press of fingers against his collarbone he secretly hoped would leave bruises, the rough scratching of denim on jersey where Soobin was pounding against him.
Shit, he was glad this wasn’t real. If he was already losing his mind like this, he didn’t dare imagine the real thing.
“Where the fuck did you learn this?”, he panted, desperately pushing back against Soobin. Maybe he’d given up on trying to keep it together, maybe he’d just forgotten. Either way, the shameless grind against each other wasn’t something he’d ever regret.
“Just a lot of practice, hyungie”, Soobin chuckled, and promptly delivered a particularly harsh thrust. This time, he didn’t move back right away, grinding close instead. It felt…harder, now. Bigger and hotter, too.
Was Soobin hard? Or was he just imagining it?
“Hyung, you’re such a whore”, came Beomgyu’s lazy insult from the couch. The younger was observing them keenly, eyes sharp as they tracked the movements of their hips, the way Yeonjun was biting his lips to keep his gasps inside.
He smiled evilly: “Now show me how you’d make someone cry. Though I don’t think it’ll take much for Yeonjunnie-hyung.”
He wanted to strangle Beomgyu. But he wasn’t wrong. If he didn’t get something more soon, anything, he was sure he’d combust. And if he did get what he wanted– yeah, he might cry either way.
“You still with me, Junnie?”, Soobin asked quietly. He’d stopped the little circles he’d been drawing with his hips, leaning over to get closer.
“Uh-huh.” His voice quivered, but thankfully, Soobin ignored it.
“Good. Brace yourself, then.”
And without warning, he placed a hand on Yeonjun’s upper back and pushed him to the floor. Every sensation suddenly felt more intense. Their shaggy carpet under his cheek, the stretch in his legs, the arch of his back–
–the way Soobin’s crotch now ground directly against his perineum.
Yeonjun had never thought about how thin a couple layers of fabric really were until that moment. He’d gone commando after his shower, briefs sweated through from their intense practice session. Only his flimsy old sweatpants, Soobin’s jeans and whatever he wore underneath them kept their skin from touching. The friction wouldn’t be scratchy, then. It would be sweaty, moving from sticky to slick in no time. It would be the best thing Yeonjun had ever felt, he was sure.
“Ahhh”, he almost shouted when Soobin finally moved again.
It made the other stop: “Are you okay? Did I hurt you, hyung?”
“N-no”, he stuttered out, “keep going, it’s fine. Just surprised me.”
He couldn’t think. Not about the noises spilling out of him every time Soobin’s hips met his, not about the rough scraping of carpet that would surely leave an irritated rash on his cheek tomorrow, and especially not about Beomgyu watching all of it. This felt like much more than a demonstration by now. That had sounded like a distanced affair, nothing more than a couple of positions and awkward suggestions of movement.
This? He might not have the words for it, but he sure as fuck knew it was sexual.
“You know how deep inside you I’d be right now?”, Soobin groaned against his ear. He let his hands follow the swell of Yeonjun’s biceps, around the bend of his elbows and down his forearms until he could entangle their hands. It stretched his torso impossibly further across the carpet. Soobin’s entire body was blanketing his now, from his strong thighs pushing apart his own to the way his chest weighed him down and his lips pressed against his neck – he was everywhere.
Something that sounded pathetically like a sob tore itself from Yeonjun’s throat as he felt his chest scrape against the carpet with Soobin’s next movement. It had only been a tickle at first, the longest fibers dancing across his skin in a distant itch. Now, he was pushed into the fabric over and over, rougher than he would have thought possible without actually doing anything. It made his nipples burn, made him ache for the relief of a gentle touch, long for the solid pain of a pinch.
God, anything but this constant stimulation surrounding him. Whichever part of his body he tried to focus on, it seemed intent to drive him insane. He wanted to scream, to claw off the laughable rest of his shirt, pushed up so far it wasn’t covering anything of importance anyway.
“Soobin, please”, he begged, although he was unsure for what.
“Hm?”, the other hummed, not stilling his movements in the slightest. “What is it, Junnie? Want me to stop?”
“No, no, just– ah”, he was panting, could feel moisture gathering in his lashes. Fuck, was he really going to cry? Suddenly, he had to get out of this crouched position. He couldn’t stand it anymore, it was too much, way way too much. “Just– up. Please, up, Soobin, pull me up.”
The world spun as Soobin followed his request before he could even finish his sentence.
He didn’t find himself back on all fours though. When he blinked open his eyes, he was wrapped in Soobin’s arms, one around his waist, the other pressed against his chest in support. They were both panting, hips moving in sync.
Briefly, he considered freeing himself of Soobin’s hold, but the rush of claustrophobia had ebbed away. This felt…
“Better?”, Soobin panted, sounding worried.
Did he feel better? Yeonjun wasn’t sure. He still wanted to burst, felt his cock embarrassingly heavy and dripping between his legs, sure it would be tenting his sweats if he looked down. Or if Beomgyu did. The way Soobin held him had him completely exposed, but even if the larger part of him was embarrassed, another was…electrified.
He gave a weird half nod, half shake of his head. The non-answer made Soobin hug him tighter, press against him as if he felt just as desperate as Yeonjun. As if he couldn’t bear to let go. It gave him the courage to speak.
“What now, then?”, he slurred. “How are you gonna finish me off, Soobin?”
“Would jerk you off”, he mumbled into his shoulder. They were completely still now, just keeping close as Soobin whispered to him frantically. “Keep fucking into you while I hold you up like this, nothing more than a ragdoll in my arms, and just when you can’t take it anymore, I’d reach down and–”
“Fuck”, he hissed, hands flying up to hold onto Soobin’s arms. “Fuck, Soobin.”
“Yeah”, the other breathed. “Yeah, I know.”
Although Yeonjun hadn’t come – and he would take his time to thank any and all available deities later on for not putting him through that particular humiliation – it still felt like he was coming down from a high. Vaguely, he expected his senses to calm down, for things to get less intense now that they had stopped moving.
It was the opposite.
He only seemed to become more aware of the rise and fall of Soobin’s chest behind him, of the warm moisture on his breath that brushed along his temple with every exhale. Technicolor, that was the only word he could think of to describe it. Even though his eyes were closed, every other one of his senses was cranked up to eleven, taking in and in and in. So much so that the throbbing of his dick hardly even registered underneath everything else.
“Should I like…leave?” Beomgyu’s question shattered the peace, pulling them back to reality, back to their poorly lit living room with their best friend perched on the couch, blush high on his cheeks and a notebook scribbled full of details on what they’d just done in his hands.
“Uhm”, Soobin said, sounding a tad hysterical, “uh, no. No, we’re good. Right hyung, we’re good?” Yeonjun’s weak nod let him breathe a sigh of relief. “Good, okay. Uh, you’re done though, right Gyu? Was this enough or did you…?”
The younger grinned, satisfaction glowing on his face: “Nope, think I got it. I mean really, short of jizzing your pants, you guys couldn’t have delivered more anyway, so thanks, really. Ten out of ten for realism, hyungs.” He gave them an exaggerated thumbs up and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve got so much material to work with, this will be perfect. Except I wish I’d filmed it, you know? There’s only so much memory and notes can do, if only I’d–”
“Beomgyu”, Yeonjun hissed. Suddenly, all of this was just a bit too much. He was still leaning heavily into Soobin, although the younger had subtly moved his hips back so his crotch would no longer be flush to Yeonjun’s ass. Not that it changed the fact they were both still hard in their pants.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Unless you want me to rip that notebook to shreds, you better shut up about fucking filming us.” He let go of one of Soobin’s arms to wipe some of his sweaty hair from his face. “Just go write your stupid story and leave us alone.”
The younger blinked. “Huh?”
“That means leave our apartment, in case it wasn’t clear.”
“But Soobin-hyung said–”, he protested, pout already forming.
Yeonjun didn’t care.
“Don’t give a fuck what Soobin said, you’re leaving so I can fucking shower in peace and not come back out to another unhinged scene.”
Grumbling about blue-balled drama queens, Beomgyu finally started to pack up his things. While he was busy, Yeonjun dared to detach himself from Soobin, shuffling forward on wobbly legs, only to sink to the floor when they were starting to feel too much like jelly.
“Are you really okay, hyung?”, Soobin bent close to whisper.
He nodded. Just one minute, he thought, to gather his strength (and wits), then he’d get up and retreat to the bathroom. Maybe his dick would have gone down by then, too, and Beomgyu wouldn’t have even more blackmail material against him than he already had after this.
To his misfortune, the younger had been quicker than he’d expected.
“Alright, hyungs, I’ll get going then.” He gave them a silly salute while trying to pull on one of his shoes, almost stumbling into their door. After he caught himself, he dropped into a ridiculously low bow: “Soobin-hyungnim, thank you for being my sex guru. I will work hard to make use of the knowledge you’ve imparted on me. Yeonjunnie…well, thanks for being such a willing participant.”
His face was radiating mischief, a shit-eating grin pulling on his lips. Oh, Yeonjun was going to murder him.
“Yah, you absolute brat! I will–”, he hissed and made to get up.
It didn’t intimidate the younger in the least. If anything, it encouraged him even further: “I’d say catch me if you can, but I think that massive boner is gonna slow you down too much anyway. Just kill me next time, Yeonjunnie!”
He slammed the door shut behind him with another maniacal cackle, leaving them in abrupt silence. Briefly, Yeonjun wondered what they must look like to an outsider. What they would have looked like for Beomgyu just before leaving. Both on the floor, flushed, arousal still obvious between their legs…
“Well”, he hastily blurted out before his mind could wander further, “I’m just gonna go…shower.”
He scrambled onto his feet, not sparing Soobin another look, and made for the bathroom. Yes, a shower was what he needed right now.
A cold one.
Healthy. Cold showers were healthy, right? Yeonjun remembered reading something about that (and renouncing the idea very emphatically).
But one could change and develop healthy habits like that at any time. It was a mere coincidence that Yeonjun had taken up cold showers after that night. It had nothing to do with the memory of Soobin’s hands on his body that distracted him randomly during the day, and even followed him into his dreams, leaving him sweaty and hard when he woke up.
And most certainly, it had nothing to do with the way his eyes seemed to always find Soobin’s crotch, whether they meant to or not. One second they were having a normal conversation about their uni workload, the next time Yeonjun was wondering about how big Soobin’s load might be.
No, the cold showers had nothing to do with that. Neither had their odd timing. They were two very much separate developments. A correlation, not a causation.
At least, that’s what Yeonjun had tried telling himself for the past two weeks since the door had slammed shut behind Beomgyu. After that first cold shower, he’d tried to avoid Soobin and gone straight to bed – until the younger’s knock on the door foiled his plan.
Still, as awkward and unmoored as he may have felt, Soobin would never be denied entry into Yeonjun’s space. It was an unspoken rule he’d lived by since they were five. A bit of dry humping wouldn’t override that.
“Hyung?”, Soobin had asked, voice small and face drawn in that careful way he had when trying not to burden others with his own worries. “Are you alright?”
Not sure how to answer that, Yeonjun had shrugged.
“Did I…”, Soobin had bitten his lip, letting his eyes wander around the mess of Yeonjun’s room, “did I go too far earlier? Did I do something you didn’t–”
“No!”, he’d blurted before Soobin could even finish that sentence. He should have said something before such the younger could even finish such a thought, but he’d been too keen on getting away from the awkwardness to think about such a thing. “You really did nothing wrong.”
“Then we’re okay?” Through his mask of careful neutrality, Yeonjun had been able to see how terrified Soobin was about his answer.
So even though he hadn’t actually been quite sure about that, he’d said: “Of course we are, Bin. We’re best friends, right?”
And they were. They’d always been best friends, so why would this change anything? Why should a bit of dry humping get in the way of almost twenty years of friendship when nothing had before?
After all, it wasn’t like Yeonjun had never had these kinds of thoughts before.
When he was seven, he’d pushed Soobin off the slide at school for playing with Ji Changmin from his grade instead of Yeonjun, too proud to tell him how much it hurt to feel second best. Soobin had broken his arm and they’d both cried so much, they’d had the hiccups for days after.
The summer when he was twelve, he’d convinced Soobin to stay out in the woods all night, simply because he wanted to spend more time together. They’d been grounded and banned from playing together for two months, the most miserable two months of his life.
At thirteen, he’d had his first wet dream while sleeping over at Soobin’s house. It had been mortifying, but Soobin had reassured him that he didn’t think it was weird or disgusting. He’d never told him that he remembered the dream, or that it had been about Soobin’s pretty lips.
When he was sixteen, he’d kissed Hwang Yeji during spin the bottle and wished it was Soobin the entire time. He’d called him in a panic, babbling about how he needed to tell the other something, but instead of “I think I like you” he’d said “I think I like boys”.
When Soobin turned sixteen, he’d kissed Ji Changmin during spin the bottle and probably didn’t wish it was Yeonjun. Later that night he’d told him that he was pretty sure he liked both girls and boys. But not me, Yeonjun hadn’t said and cried in the bathroom instead.
Finally, when he was eighteen, he’d slept with a boy for the first time, and wished it was Soobin instead. He never told him, but he’d kept wishing for that every time he had sex after.
Those thoughts he was having were nothing new. He’d had them about Soobin ever since he could remember, had always stared at his lips for a little too long, relished in his touch a bit too much, laughed a little too loudly at his jokes. He knew how to handle them.
It was just a little harder now that he knew what it felt like to be held by Soobin, how firm and sure his hands were, how warm the line of his body felt against Yeonjun’s. It was a little harder to look away from his crotch after feeling it against his ass, a little harder to refrain from touching himself after waking up from a dream that wasn’t fantasy but memory.
It was a little harder, but Yeonjun could do it. They were best friends, after all.
While Yeonjun struggled with the aftermath of that night, Beomgyu was absolutely thrilled with its outcome. He’d disappeared for days on end after, the only signs of life more sex questions he randomly texted Soobin at 3am, before popping back up over a week later, in higher spirits than any of them had ever seen him before.
When they finally all got together for lunch in the cafeteria over a week later, Beomgyu arrived last, slammed down his phone and crowed: “Twenty- seven comments, baby!”
A half-chewed piece of kimchi flopped out of Kai’s mouth as he opened it: “Huh?”
“Comments for what?”, Soobin asked distractedly as he reached out to wipe their maknae’s chin. Yeonjun tried to ignore the flutter it caused in his stomach.
Instead, he turned to Beomgyu: “Did you post on Instagram?”
Before he could get an answer though, Taehyun intervened, voice and expression bristling on behalf of their friend: “His fic of course! Come on, he’s been working really hard on it and you didn’t even read it?”
He reached out to pull Beomgyu next to him, ready to cling to his arm in reassurance. He whispered: “I read it, hyung, and those comments are so deserved!”
Ah, right. Yeonjun vaguely remembered Beomgyu posting a link in their group chat at the beginning of the week. Or rather, 4am on Monday morning. He must have written all night then…and none of them had read it.
Oops.
“Shit, sorry Gyu”, he mumbled. “I forgot to read it.”
“Me too. That music theory quiz…ah, you know how it is”, Kai agreed quietly.
To his surprise, all Beomgyu did was shrug. “It’s fine, you noobs. Not like you could appreciate my art anyway. But to your information – one of my readers said this was their favorite sex scene they’ve ever read and that it felt mindblowingly real. So suck on that.”
Taehyun nodded sagely: “It was very impressive, Beommie-hyung really nailed it. Since he’s good at writing emotions already, it made the sex and plot come together so well.”
Maybe it was the way Beomgyu was preening under Taehyun’s proud gaze, clearly so very proud of himself and what he’d written, that made Yeonjun ask, or maybe it was the guilt. Either way, he held out his hand and said: “Show it, then.”
“Huh? For real, hyung?”
“I read the last one too, didn’t I?”
“Well yeah…to make fun of me though.”
“To verify if you were really as shit as Tyunnie said”, Kai piped up and waved at the phone, “now show us already.”
It felt like a deja vu of the last time they’d done this, crouched around the phone reading bad smut. Only that this time, it wasn’t bad at all. The opposite, actually, Beomgyu had nailed the descriptions. He was so accurate that Yeonjun could see, no feel him and Soobin demonstrating the positions on their shitty carpet, the heat of the other’s breath on his earlobe, crotch against his ass.
It was scarily realistic.
Except–
“Why is he crying?”, Yeonjun said sharply, staring at the paragraph he’d just read, “I didn’t cry.”
“Huh?”
“He keeps whimpering and sobbing too, I didn’t do that.”
Maybe I wanted to, but I kept my mouth fucking shut.
Beomgyu stared at him, incredulity slowly morphing into worry: “I– I know that, hyung. You were just the model, I just used Soobin-hyung’s and your demonstration as a guideline for my scene.”
“It’s still weird”, he insisted, cheeks flaming. “Now everyone will think I was crying for Soobin or something.”
They’ll know, he thought, everyone will know.
“Noone except us knows that you guys demonstrated for Beomgyu”, Taehyun said quietly. Beside him, Kai laughed nervously.
“That’s fucking weird too”, he hissed back, “and I wasn’t like that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being affected by sex, hyung”, Soobin tried to soothe him.
“I know that”, he burst out. Around them, the cafeteria fell quiet, eyes flying to their table. Shit. “I know that there’s nothing wrong with it. But I wasn’t affected, okay? I wasn’t!”
Please believe me. Please just let this go, Soobin.
“Ah hyung, nobody thinks you were–”, Kai tried to reassure him, discomfort visible in the way he was rocking from side to side. Distantly, he felt bad about it. Kai had the least to do with this, definitely didn’t deserve to hear about their weird thing that had been messing with Yeonjun since it happened, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling.
As usual, Beomgyu didn’t help: “Pff, come on, hyung. Not affected? Your boner was telling a different–”
“GYU!”, Soobin shouted, “for fuck’s sake!”
The regret on Beomgyu’s face was instant when he saw Yeonjun’s expression, but it was too late.
“Whatever”, he spat and crammed the notebook he’d been leafing through back into his bag. One more second under the eyes of his friends, and he’d either disintegrate on the spot or start crying.
“Hyung…”, Soobin tried and reached out for his sleeve.
One more second under Soobin’s eyes and he’d definitely start crying. Fuck, what was the other thinking of him right now? How fucking pathetic must Yeonjun be in his eyes, to have seemed so needy, so willing for something that meant nothing.
How fucking in love.
“I’ll see you at home, Bin”, he mumbled without meeting Soobin’s eyes.
To his surprise, he didn’t end up seeing Soobin at home. Nor the next day, or the one after that. After his last attempt at avoiding his best friend had been nipped in the bud, he’d expected Soobin to intercept it again this time.
When he didn’t make any move to, instead leaving him his space to hide away in his room, only coming out when Soobin wasn’t around, Yeonjun didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Sure, he was the one hiding, but he’d still thought that maybe Soobin would check in with him.
He’d been concerned before, right? He’d been so serious about this whole topic and not making Yeonjun uncomfortable, where the fuck was Mr. Sex Guru now?
It wasn’t fair to think that way and he knew it. He couldn’t help it though.
When he finally did see Soobin, it was already Saturday morning and he’d been too tired still to check if anybody was home before blearily making his way into the kitchen. He jumped at the sight of Soobin at the counter, hair dripping and nothing on but his boxer briefs and a t-shirt. They’d never been shy around each other when it came to this type of thing, but it was the first time in a while for Yeonjun to see Soobin this bare. Definitely the first time after that night…
His own surprise at seeing the other was mirrored in Soobin’s expression, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock. While Yeonjun was still blinking at him, trying to process what he was seeing, a blush slowly crept onto Soobin’s cheeks.
“Hyung”, he mumbled, “I didn’t expect you to– uhm…I– I mean, good morning.”
It took a second for his words to register with Yeonjun, still too preoccupied with the view of Soobin’s perfectly round ass in tight black fabric before him.
“M-morning”, he finally stammered out. Despite Soobin being the one who was almost naked, he felt exposed. Frantically, he looked for something to do. What would he normally do in the kitchen? What had he wanted when he came out in the first place?
“Do you want coffee?”, Soobin asked hesitantly, still pink-faced.
“Oh.” Right, coffee. He had that every morning. “Yeah. Yes, please.”
It should have been mortifying, but his daze managed to bring the smallest of smiles to Soobin’s face.
“Still half-asleep?”, he asked as he pulled another cup from the shelf.
“Mhm.” Yeonjun shuffled over, grateful for the excuse. Much easier to keep squinting his eyes and mumble half answers under the guise of being groggy than having to face the awkwardness lingering between them.
“Want breakfast too?”, Soobin questioned, moving through the kitchen much more speedily than Yeonjun. “My eomma sent a ton of banchan, so I made rice and was going to fry up a bit of meat and garlic to have with it.”
“Yeah that sounds good”, he mumbled.
He should have said more. Should have relieved whatever tension was between them and told Soobin he’d work it out with Beomgyu and to just forget what had happened the other day. He didn’t, though.
Just stood in the middle of their kitchen, watching Soobin putter around. Through their window, the sun was drawing patterns onto Soobin’s pale skin. It made him look hazy, warm, like an apparition. Like he was too good to be true and would disappear the moment Yeonjun blinked his eyes.
Or the moment he found out exactly how his best friend was thinking about him.
Yeonjun swallowed a mouthful of too-hot coffee and closed his eyes. That wouldn’t happen. If Soobin, or any of the others, suspected anything after his outburst over Beomgyu’s story, he’d deny it. Explain it away somehow with having a bad day, just being sensitive about sex and how he was perceived in general. It would be fine, nothing would happen–
“Sorry, hyung, just need to–”
Soobin’s hand on his back was a sudden, hot brand on his bare skin. It came as such a surprise, out of nowhere when Yeonjun hadn’t even realized that Soobin was anywhere close to him, that he jumped, spilling coffee on his chest and bare feet.
“Ack–”
“Shit, hyung, you okay? Did you burn yourself?” Soobin’s hands rushed to inspect Yeonjun’s chest where red splotches were forming. He couldn’t have cared less about the burns though, nor about the stains on his skimpy baby-blue cardigan he’d thrown on. Would have sworn that Soobin’s hands were much more scalding on his skin than the coffee had been. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Yeonjun stood frozen as Soobin brushed off the droplets with his fingers, carefully roving over his chest and leaving trails of buzzing electricity behind. How had they gotten here again, with his hands all over him, Yeonjun unable to form a single coherent thought? He wanted to push into the touch, to take Soobin’s hands and wind them around his waist, hold him tight and murmur sweet nothings into his ear again.
But Soobin was his best friend, It would ruin twenty years of Yeonjun and Soobin if he let himself slip, if he gave in–
Any and all thought stopped when Soobin’s finger brushed across his nipple. Arousal shot through him like lightning, goosebumps spreading over his torso in a shiver.
He couldn't.
It was instinct alone that made him react, snatch Soobin’s wrist in his hand and pull it from his chest.
“You can’t fucking do that”, he blurted. “Not after– fuck, Soobin, and definitely not dressed like this.”
He’d expected…well, he wasn’t sure. There hadn’t been enough time for expectations, he’d just reacted. But seeing Soobin’s face now, it didn’t seem appropriate.
Pity would have made sense. Confusion, maybe, since sometimes Soobin was just daft like that. But not the way he shrunk back from Yeonjun, face crumbling into such a grimace of devastation that it physically hurt Yeonjun to look at it.
Like he was the one who’d been burned this time, Soobin stepped away from him, raising his arms like he was trying to calm a spooked child. He stumbled over his words, frantic to get them all out:
“I’m so sorry hyung, I didn’t realize…Shit, I didn’t realize I…that I made you uncomfortable. I mean I thought so right after, maybe, but when I mentioned it to Gyu he said I was being ridiculous. But– but he’s wrong, right?”
Wrong? What?
Yeonjun couldn’t keep up with what was happening. How had their awkward morning meeting spiraled into Soobin looking all…
Patchy. His neck had gone a patchy red, radiating up to his cheeks and ears as the first panicked tears began to spill. But still, he wouldn’t stop talking: “Oh god, you– you really are. You must hate me, shit, hyung. Jun, Junnie, please– I–I’ll get dressed, okay, and I– I won’t touch you anymore, I promise, hyung. I just– hyung, I’m so sorry.” His voice trailed off into a whisper: “I’m so so sorry, Junnie.”
Hate Soobin?
In what world would that even be possible?
Slowly, as he watched Soobin back away, still frantically mumbling apologies, the meaning of his words sank in.
“I didn’t realize I made you uncomfortable.”
Did he think–
“No!” Yeonjun had blurted it out before he could even finish the thought. It didn’t matter what he said to stop this, though, as long as he did. He could not let Soobin think like this for even a second longer.
Face pale, Soobin stopped shuffling backwards.
“No?”, he whispered, voice brittle.
“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, readying himself for what was to come. The only way out of a mess was through it, as his mother had always said. “No, Soobin you don’t! Not– not even a little bit.” With a sigh, he added: “That’s the problem.”
“What?”
Valid question. Really valid. Now if only he didn’t have to answer it.
“I…fuck this is so embarrassing…I just…”
“You what?” Soobin sounded closer again. Hesitant, but hopeful. “Tell me, hyung.”
Yeonjun exhaled shakily. “I was…hard that day. When we…when we demonstrated. You saw that, didn’t you?”
It was quiet for so long that he blinked open his eyes. He needed to see Soobin’s face, figure out what he was thinking about that.
Soobin blinked back in confusion. Finally, he asked: “Uh yeah? So was I? It was pretty obvious?”
“No Soobin. I mean yes, it was, but…” He wheezed out a breath, shaky and wet. Oh god, he was going to start crying, wasn’t he? “What I’m trying to say is…I was hard because…because I liked it.”
Soobin stepped closer. Too close. Although he averted his eyes, Yeonjun could still see him moving, could see his chest right in front of him–
“What are you saying, Junnie?”, Soobin mumbled, eyebrows scrunched together. His hands were floating at Yeonjun’s elbows, not quite touching but almost.
So close. Close despite what he’d just admitted to, close while he was asking for Yeonjun to fess up once and for all. Close and still kind, still patient, still so careful in the way he didn’t touch.
Still Soobin, whom he had loved since he was a child, who was finally asking the right questions. Who wasn’t running away the way he’d always feared.
Yeonjun let go. Something he’d been holding in for almost two decades, and in the end it was so easy to say.
“You touching me. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I– Soobin, I liked it.”
Their kitchen was filled with static, the silence roaring in Yeonjun’s ears as Soobin stood frozen. When he looked up, his mouth gaped open. If he didn’t look so much like a bunny, he would’ve called it the expression of a consternated fish.
“You liked it?”, Soobin echoed eventually.
“I did. I– I do. I mean, I would, if you were to–”, shit, why was this so hard? What was he even trying to say? “What I’m saying is I like it when you touch me, Bin. I’ve always liked it.”
“…Junnie”, Soobin breathed. Finally, shaky hands found his elbows and squeezed. “I do too.”
I do too.
No, that couldn’t be. Soobin didn’t feel that way. They were just friends, best friends.
“What do you mean–”
“I like touching you”, Soobin blurted, “and I like it when you touch me too, hyung. I keep wanting to touch you, actually, and it’s been– god, Yeonjun, it’s been driving me nuts.”
He looked like it too, a wide grin forming on his lips that was going to split his face in two any second now. Borderline insane, definitely, the way he started to laugh to himself, hands rubbing up and down Yeonjun’s arms now, squeezing his biceps.
It took everything in his power to focus: “You want to touch me?”
Soobin nodded, eyes shining and his hair flopping with the movement. He was too eager to look quite sane. The expression of excitement, of adoration struck Yeonjun’s heart almost painfully. Oh. Maybe he’d been the oblivious one.
But he still had to make sure: “How?”
“Huh?”
“How do you wanna touch me?”
Soobin blinked: “Are you dumb?”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Seriously, Junnie, I was humping your ass the other day and you–”
“Just answer the goddamn question, Soobin, or so help me–”
And then, mid-rant, soft lips pressed to his own, halting his words and brain at once.
A kiss. Soobin was kissing him.
Slowly, sweetly, gently pecking him in the middle of his mouth over and over. He was taking his time, too, as if they hadn’t just been arguing, as if they hadn’t done so much more already.
Yeonjun whined into the kiss, pushing back against Soobin, hands fluttering all over his torso, undecided where to grasp, to hold. This, he’d been dreaming of this, had imagined how it would feel to finally, finally have him in his arms. It made him frantic, shaky like a caffeine overdose, too desperate to be close to the other to actually do much about it.
As always, Soobin seemed to get it though. Gently, he grasped his chin between two fingers and moved closer. Nudging him with his nose before he dipped back down, placing another kiss at the corner of his mouth. Yeonjun could feel the smile on his lips.
“Like this”, Soobin whispered. His breath ghosted across Yeonjuns lips before the other moved on.
Another kiss, this time to his forehead.
“And like this.”
Another, on his cheek.
“And this.”
Stepping back, he found Yeonjun’s hands where they had tangled into his t-shirt. He had to pry them off before he could lift them and gently lay another small, sweet kiss on the back of each.
“I want to touch you however you’ll let me, Yeonjun.”
He was so earnest. Always sweet, always earnest Soobin, who was looking at him with such serious eyes as he said this that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t known.
This man was in love with him.
“I think”, he choked out, desperately trying to mask his oncoming blubbering with a joke, “I’ve made it quite clear that I’m willing to let you do pretty much anything to me, Soobinnie.”
“Anything?”, he replied lowly. A dangerous sparkle lit up in his eyes. The fact that he couldn’t pin-point whether it was mischief or lust made Yeonjun’s stomach swoop.
“Pretty much”, he breathed, trying to decide whether to just drag Soobin into the bedroom right now or cry into his shoulder. “As long as it’s you.”
Soobin’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer .
“Just me?”, he asked quietly.
“Mhmm”, he mumbled, giving into the urge to nose along Soobin’s jaw. “Think I’ll like anything if it’s you who does it to me.”
If they weren’t pressed together like this, he wouldn’t have noticed the way Soobin fidgeted slightly, arms going tighter around Yeonjun’s waist.
“What if it’s something boring?”, he mumbled into Yeonjun’s temple.
Boring?
“Weren’t you the one who said missionary can be the hottest thing if it’s with someone you trust?”, he snorted, memory clear in his mind. He had fantasized about it too much after Soobin described it, after he’d leaned so close during dinner, he’d felt his breath on his face…
“...more boring”, Soobin admitted, still speaking into Yeonjun’s hair rather than to his face.
He pulled back. “Like what?”
Soobin’s face was a sight. Raspberry pink high in his cheeks, his pretty bunny lips bitten raw with nerves, so very suddenly void of any of his confidence and sex appeal from earlier. And as hot as that other Soobin was, as safe as Yeonjun felt with him, as much as he was Soobin – this was his Soobin. Familiar. His best friend, too shy to ask for something, just like it had been during their school days.
It made him coo over the other, lifting a hand to push back his mop of hair. “Binnie, tell me. What do you want?”
The first attempt was a mumble Yeonjun wouldn’t even deign to decipher.
“Come on, tell me. How bad could it be, Bin?”, he coaxed.
Flaming red cheeks, shifty eyes, his nervous dimples out in full force – distractedly, Yeonjun thought he’d never seen Soobin look this pretty before. Not even in high school, when they’d shared their first bottle of soju and the flush on Soobin’s face and his constant giggling had tortured Yeonjun with the urge to kiss him.
Now, he could finally give in, could let himself get swept up in Soobin’s fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, the thick hair in his grasp, the warm glide of lips on lips. Now he could sigh into his mouth in relief when they separated, so sure that they were on the same page.
“Bin”, he whispered against the younger’s mouth, “just say it.”
As if pained, Soobin closed his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he finally said: “Hold hands.”
“What?”, Yeonjun laughed incredulously.
“I wanna…I wanna hold your hand”, Soobin admitted – and instantly succumbed to his shyness by trying to hide his face in Yeonjun’s neck.
Hand holding? That was what Soobin wanted to ask about?
A giggle escaped before he could help it, earning himself a pinch to the side from Soobin. It couldn’t stop him, though, laughter bubbling out of him in bursts now as he clutched to Soobin’s back.
“That’s–”, he wheezed. Soobin really couldn’t be serious. Mr. Sex Guru, debilitated by– oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Beomgyu. “Oh god, Soobin, out of all things, that’s what you’re nervous to ask about?”
“I– mhm…”, Soobin hummed uncomfortably, but he did leave the safety of Yeonjun’s neck to send him a nervous look. He lifted a hand to play with a strand of hair that had fallen onto Yeonjun’s forehead. “I just…”
“Needed to see how vanilla you’d have to get to send me running for the hills?”, he quipped to ease the tension. It earned him a weak laugh.
“I mean, kinda?”, Soobin mused, before sucking in a deep breath and straightening up. “Just– what do you want, Junnie? You said– you said you like me touching you. But is that just sex? Do you just want me to rail you six ways to Sunday, or do you–”
Yeonjun’s heart was racing. They were standing at the precipice of something, he could feel it. Twenty years of waiting, and just a little more. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t wait for Soobin to finish that sentence.
Except he didn’t.
“Do I…?”, he nudged, trying to catch Soobin’s eyes again.
He bit his lip, suddenly looking very small despite the height advantage. “Do you…”, he hedged, fiddling with the edge of Yeonjun’s cardigan. Finally, he stammered: “Want me? Do you want me, like…as your…as your boyfriend?”
“As my–”, oh.
“I know it’s– I know we’ve always just been– and we can still be, you know, best friends, it’s just, I–”
“Will you still rail me six ways to Sunday?”, Yeonjun blurted out. “Because I do want that. But uh. I still wanna come home to your shitty cooking and not-watch anime with you? And like, shout at you for blocking the shower and leaving your towels on the floor? Like, all of the above. Is that– is that on the table?”
“Stop calling my cooking shitty when you end up eating it all anyway”, Soobin complained with a sour face.
“You overcook ramen–”
“Because you like soft noodles!”
Bullshit!
“I said that when I got my wisdom teeth out, Soobin, that does not still stand–”
“So you don’t want to come home to my shitty cooking?”
Yeonjun wanted to punch him. “I do! I just said so, I want all of that, you’re the one who’s not answering and instead trying to fight– why are you looking at me like that?”
Because he was looking at Yeonjun like that. Like he was trying to burn his face into memory, warm and sparkly and hungry, all the ways he’d looked at Yeonjun over the years condensed into one.
“Cause I want that too”, Soobin whispered. “All of the above. Six ways to Sunday. Or happily ever after, I don’t really care.”
“As long as it’s with me?”
“Exactly.”