Work Text:
Suho has come a long way since the day he woke from the coma. His awakening felt like a light switch being flipped on. One moment he was laying on the floor of a dark boxing ring, and the next he was laying in the bed of a bright inpatient room.
He struggled a lot with his recovery, especially in the beginning. The doctors and nurses that tended to him kept telling him how lucky he was to be awake, what a miracle it was. With his memory completely intact—albeit a bit hazy—and his ability to move his limbs, their words weren’t necessarily lies. But as much as he tried to rationalize those words, nothing managed to make him loathe hearing them any less. Each syllable had only caused guilt and resentment to build up like the steam of a pressure cooker, waiting to burst. Words that were intended to be encouraging landed like punches that inflicted lasting bruises to his chest.
Recovery was a lengthy, difficult process. Logically, he understood that he was making a good amount of progress for all that he had endured, but he found it difficult to actually listen to his own logic. Before, he wouldn’t have even had to think twice about putting one foot in front of the other and walking. He wouldn’t have had to put so much effort into bending his fingers around the handle of a spoon just to eat. Deep down, he was convinced if he was even half as strong as everyone told him he was, he would have been much more capable of doing these things with ease.
It took about a month after he woke up, but he’d finally gotten to a point where he felt like he was starting to grow accustomed to all the various tests and therapies that became part of his daily routine.
The negative thoughts were still there, but they improved. He’d believed that things were finally beginning to look up, that the day he could live like a normal boy again wasn’t as far away as it had felt.
Suho didn’t receive even a full month of optimism before the hope he had been carefully holding close to his chest like a fragile piece of glass had shattered.
He’d become too confident, and pushed himself too far. He got up that morning feeling excited, positive that he could get out of bed and bathe himself without requesting any assistance.
He was forced to face the cruel reality of what had been done to him once again, when he fell down onto the tile floor while trying to reach down and wash his lower body.
He didn’t even call for help, helplessly lying there for however long it took for the nurses to find him, drowning in a disappointed silence as his optimism fell down the drain alongside the soapy water.
The nurses panicked, and the doctors ordered several more tests than usual to see if the fall had caused any further trauma to his brain. In the end, he was deemed to be perfectly fine, and everyone around him was just relieved that he had not been hurt.
Suho had been good to go; he was given the green light to continue with his therapies as normal, and that should have made him feel relieved, but it didn’t. Physically, he was fine, but internally—he spiraled. The pressure that had been building within him reached its capacity, exploding with a scalding steam.
His fall, although inconsequential, was difficult to come to terms with. The way he had come so close to setting himself all the way back to square one was terrifying. Even worse, the possibility that he could have worsened his brain injury so easily had left him with a fear that lit his insides like a wildfire that continued to spread for weeks on end.
Those following weeks were unquestionably the darkest time in Suho’s recovery. He came to the sickening realization that all those weeks he’d spent awake, working so hard to get better, could have all been for nothing in the blink of an eye. The motivation he’d desperately held onto before had begun to dissolve in front of his eyes. Anxious thoughts began plaguing him. What if something happened again? What was the point of trying anymore if he could be forced back to ground zero at any given moment?
On the outside, it had just been one simple fall. One that caused no tangible setbacks in his recovery. On the inside, it haunted his every waking thought. He’d lie awake at night, wishing he had never woken up, wishing he had just died on the floor of the ring that night like the boys who did this to him had intended.
To him, anything would have been better than the torture of trying to teach himself to use his body again. Working so hard, enduring so much pain, not knowing when he would ever be able to function even a fraction of how he used to— if he ever would.
His depressive thoughts were fortunately not given much time to fester into anything more sinister. The dark clouds he found himself engulfed in were easily dissipated by the boy with big, glossy eyes who came to visit at every opportunity.
Sieun was like a guiding star for Suho. Almost like Sieun was constantly generating a light from his core that submerged Suho in a gentle warmth.
Suho had found support in a multitude of places; in the nurses that cared for him, in the other patients he befriended, even in the new friends Sieun had introduced him to. None of it could compare to the support he found in Sieun himself.
Sieun would visit almost every single day after cram school. He always arrived right on the dot, and on especially bad days, he would even skip his studies. Going straight to the hospital from school, he would tell Suho he already knew everything they were going over anyway.
Suho never outright told Sieun when anything was wrong, trying his best to put on an act that could convince Sieun he was still somebody people could rely on. Somehow, though, Sieun always knew. He’d become extra perceptive when it came to Suho after his coma. Whether it was in the way Suho spoke with a little less enthusiasm over the phone, or in the way he texted in a slightly different tone, he just knew.
Sieun never forced Suho to talk about it though, didn’t treat him like he was about to break at any given moment, didn’t make him feel bad for his failures. He kept Suho company, trying as best he could to give Suho a sense of normalcy in his day-to-day life while still stuck in the hospital.
Of course, deep down, Sieun was scared. After all the time he spent waiting and being told Suho may never wake up. He lived with a constant fear that something may happen again. The thought alone that he could lose Suho again was suffocating, but it was his turn now to be strong for Suho.
Suho had noticed the way Sieun’s eyes stayed steady on him every time he got up from his hospital bed. He saw the way Sieun would make sure to stand just close enough to catch him if he fell, but far enough to not be overbearing.
Sieun was obviously trying to hide his fear, not wanting to discourage Suho. The thought made Suho’s stomach flutter. The care that Sieun held for him, and nobody else, made his chest fill with an indescribable warmth. The same warmth he had felt after seeing Sieun smile for the first time.
Suho has been discharged from the hospital for about 6 months now. The doctor’s appointments to check on his progress are fewer and farther between. His ability to use his body has improved significantly as well, he’s able to live a normal life, working at his grandma’s restaurant.
He still struggles from time to time, but it doesn’t come with the same frustration it once had. Only on occasion, when he sees teenage boys running around playing basketball, does regret start to seep in. He’s learned to live with it though, to not let that regret consume him. Over time, with the help of a therapist, he’s learned to come to terms with the fact that he will never be able to move his body in the same way he did at 17 years old.
Now, he’s been sitting on the couch for an hour, deep in thought, remembering those early days of recovery. Wondering if he could have made it to where he is now without Sieun in his life.
Realistically, he knows he could still have recovered. He could have picked himself back up and gotten back to living. He isn't quite as sure he would be carrying the same happiness within himself that he does now if it weren’t for the other boy. Sieun makes living enjoyable.
The silence surrounding him is interrupted by a knock at the door. Suho sits up straight, face lighting up with a smile. His previous train of thought is instantly forgotten as he remembers Sieun agreed to come over after his afternoon class today.
Suho jumps up off the couch, bouncing from foot to foot, humming as he makes his way towards the entrance. Opening the door, he looks down to see Sieun looking back up at him expectantly. His stomach flips, the nervous excitement he gets from seeing Sieun doesn’t dim, no matter how many times they have hung out before.
Suho steps to the side, allowing Sieun to enter, who ignores him and immediately makes a beeline for Suho’s bedroom. “Hello to you too, Sieun-ah!” Suho shouts after him, chuckling at the other boy's blunt behavior.
“Hi,” Sieun replies quietly, knowing Suho is already following suit. When he reaches Suho's bedroom, he begins removing his belongings from his bookbag, placing them down on Suho’s desk.
Suho is standing close behind Sieun, hovering over his shoulder, resting his chin on the shorter boy's shoulder. “Awe, can’t you just hang out with me a little bit before you start ignoring me for your books?” He whines with an exaggerated pout.
“I told you I would only come over if you would behave and let me study,” Sieun says pointedly, using his hand to lightly push Suho’s face away before taking a seat. Suho immediately admits defeat, knowing what Sieun said was true. He walks to the other side of the room, dragging his feet dramatically and moping like a kicked puppy.
Suho plops down on the bed and puts on whatever drama he comes across first in the recommended section. It doesn’t matter what the drama is or what it’s about, because he already knows he won’t end up paying much attention to it anyways. This isn’t the first time Sieun’s come over, Suho knows the drill. He’s already well aware that no drama could be as interesting as watching the way Sieun bites his lips and furrows his brows when he reaches a particularly difficult to understand topic. No cinematography could be as beautiful as the sight of the pretty boy sitting at his desk.
──
A few episodes pass, and as expected, Suho is completely oblivious to the show's events. He could not list off more than maybe one or two characters' names if somebody were to ask him to. He’s got a better chance at accurately guessing the number of times Sieun has blinked in the last hour than the color of the main character's eyes.
He’s beginning to feel a bit antsy, he starts aimlessly fidgeting with his hands—being forced to only watch Sieun feels like torture. Suho wants the other boy near, he wants Sieun’s attention.
Sieun had initially planned on going straight home after class to study today, which is why he had insisted Suho leave him be. That was the rule Sieun set in place when he finally yielded to Suho’s pleading for him to come over. Although they both knew deep down Sieun would have inevitably given in to the other boy one way or another, he’s never been too good at saying no to Suho.
Suho is fighting an internal battle. On one hand, he doesn’t want to go against his word and bother Sieun’s studies. On the other hand, he has a feeling that Sieun couldn’t stay mad at him for very long if he even got mad at all. He purses his lips in thought, he might be willing to take the risk.
Suho considers for a moment what might be the best way to get Sieun’s attention, even for just a brief moment, without bothering him too much. He groans exasperatedly, which gets absolutely no reaction from the other. Suho frowns, lowering his head until he’s looking at the remote in his hands, which triggers a lightbulb in his head to flicker.
“Sieunnie,” he calls out even louder, stretching the syllables. Sieun’s head finally turns to him, as if it’s the first time he’s heard anything at all. Suho is confident that he’s come up with a perfect excuse to both get his attention and pass it off as not interrupting Sieun, “Can you give me the batteries from the desk drawer? The tv remote died.”
Sieun stares at Suho with a subtle glint of amusement in his eyes, like he knows what Suho is doing. “You couldn’t have gotten up to get them on your own?” he questions sarcastically, opening the drawer to get them for Suho anyways. Before he is able to find any batteries though, he finds a plastic bag with several clumps of a brownish green plant inside. “What is this?” He asks, pretending he doesn’t already have a pretty good guess. As he lifts up the bag for Suho to see; a strong herby, musky smell hits him.
“Oh!” Suho shoots up straight, “I forgot that was in there… The Doctor prescribed me some cannabis to help manage the pain that I still experience here and there—don’t worry about it!” he exclaims, scratching the back of his neck as he nearly trips over himself to find the batteries for himself instead. “Got them! You just go back to studying now, sorry,” awkwardly laughing, Suho brandishes the batteries as if Sieun couldn’t already see them, walking back to his bed. Sitting down, he begins to swap the already fully charged batteries for the new, slightly fuller, batteries.
Sieun stares in bewilderment for a moment, unsure of what to say. Nodding, more so to himself than anyone else, he turns back to his textbook. He’d never seen weed in person before, let alone even considered the possibility of ever smoking it. Now that he’s found himself face to face with the possibility, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like, and if it would be as enjoyable as everyone says it is.
He’s determined to shake it off. Doing just as Suho said, he picks up his pen to try continuing writing notes on the chapter he left off at.
He stares at the chapter for a while, finally realizing he is getting nothing done when he finds himself going back to reread the same paragraph for the fifth time. He isn’t absorbing any of the information on the page. Narrowing his eyes, he tries even harder to focus, but the words only become a blurred mess in his head.
Nothing he does is bringing his focus back, his thoughts continue to repeatedly drift back to the contents of the drawer to the left of him.
Naturally, Suho notices the shift in Sieun’s behavior. He can see the way Sieun’s eyes keep wandering back to the drawer, not having written a single thing in his notebook for a while now. Suho has a feeling he knows what is going on in Sieun’s head, and it makes him feel insane. Just the idea of it alone is enough to make Suho feel out of breath, imagining how Sieun would behave if he got high.
He almost asks to smoke him out right then and there, but he ignores the thought. Not wanting to disturb Sieun again, Suho forces himself to look back towards the tv, assuming the other will eventually get over it and finally resume his studying.
He doesn’t though, 20 more minutes pass and Suho looks back at Sieun only to see him still clearly unable to focus. Having had ample time to painstakingly dwell on the idea, Suho finally caves to his own desires, “Do you wanna try smoking some?” he asks, sitting straight up in bed, peering over at Sieun.
Sieun is seemingly startled out of his thoughts, jumping at the sudden question. Once he finally processes what Suho said, he looks down at the drawer again, furrowing his brows in thought, the same way he does when studying.
Suho can tell Sieun is intrigued by the idea, he has always been able to read Sieun better than anyone else could. Honestly, Suho can't comprehend how anyone could have trouble understanding the younger, whose emotions can be seen so clearly in his eyes.
Suho doesn’t want to pressure him, but he knows Sieun wouldn’t just outwardly ask for what he wants so easily, especially not something so nerve-racking. He decides to give Sieun a slight push in the right direction, adding on—voice light and sweet, “I have always wondered how nice it would be to smoke with you, Sieun-ah.”
At that, Sieun abruptly looks back up at the boy on the bed, eyes a little wide, a blush creeping up his neck at the idea. Suho’s encouragement seems to have done the trick when Sieun averts his eyes from Suho’s gaze once more, verbalizing his agreement with a quiet “Mhm.”
Suho immediately gets to work, eagerly walking up to the desk and gesturing for Sieun to stand up so he can take a seat instead, “I’ll pack a bowl, you just sit on the bed and look pretty as always”
Sieun nods, glad to no longer be the focus of Suho’s attention, embarrassed by how flustered all of this is making him. He sits down on the edge of the bed, unable to stop the anxiety settling in his chest at the thought of smoking for the first time. Staring down at his own hands, his mind runs a million miles a second. He has no idea what to do, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Suho, and what if he does something stupid while high?
He almost decides to tell Suho he’s changed his mind. The anxious thinking almost causes him to come to regret his decision, but before he can become fully submerged in the quicksand that are his spiraling thoughts, he decides to look back up at Suho. The taller boy is busy grinding the buds up, preparing the bowl for them with an intense focus.
Sieun is aggressively pulled out of his thoughts, now entranced by something new. He watches intently as Suho works the grinder. The way his muscles flex every time he twists the grinder clockwise, then counterclockwise, again and again, is like watching a hypnotic spiral. Sieun continues to stare as Suho opens the grinder, takes the newly fine herbs, and packs them into the bowl of a light blue glass pipe molded to look like a little shark.
With the prepared pipe in one hand and a lighter of the same color in the other, Suho gets up from where he’s sat and strolls back over, planting himself down next to Sieun. Picking up on the traces of anxiety that are beginning to trickle back into Sieun’s mind now that he's no longer distracted, Suho tries to give him a chance to back out, "You don’t have to smoke if you don’t feel comfortable with it, I will never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to.”
That snaps Sieun out of it. He remembers that It’s Ahn Suho he’s with. The same boy that went through hell and back to protect him. He realizes how ridiculous his earlier thoughts were. What better person could there possibly be for Sieun to smoke with for the first time than Suho. The one person on earth that Sieun could fully give up control to and without a doubt still feel completely safe. He shakes his head, “It’s okay… I want to.” The latter half of his response comes out just above a whisper.
Suho moves closer to Sieun, smiling warmly at him, flooding Sieun’s chest with a fervent fondness.
“First I'll show you how to take a hit then I'll help you take one yourself, okay?” Suho explains. Sieun hums in agreement, watching Suho with curious eyes.
“You hold it with your thumb right here,” he begins to explain, his thumb hovering over a hole on the side of the pipe, “it's called the carb. Then, you put the pipe up to your mouth,” he lifts it up to ghost over his lips, raising the lighter with his other hand, before continuing, “and inhale as you light the bowl, taking your thumb off the carb halfway through.” He demonstrates everything he says as he finishes speaking. Inhaling, lifting his thumb, exhaling.
Suho exhales the smoke, lifting his head towards the ceiling. He doesn’t cough at all, making it look so easy. “But you should be careful not to inhale too deeply, since you’ve never smoked before” he adds as an afterthought, looking back down at Sieun, flashing a comforting smile.
“Did you understand all that?” Suho asks. Sieun presses his lips together, knowing full well he was not paying enough attention to the words coming from Suho’s mouth. He was too focused on the warm buzzing sensation in his stomach as he watched Suho smoke so effortlessly. He nods anyway, deciding he would much rather be confused than be caught ogling Suho.
Suho laughs, as if he can see right through Sieun, but brings the pipe to the boy’s lips nonetheless. “Here, I'll do most of the work for you, all you need to focus on is inhaling.”
Sieun nods, licking his lips before placing them around the mouthpiece. He looks up through his eyelashes at Suho, expectantly.
Suho’s brain short circuits for a moment. The image of Sieun in front of him right now is scarily similar to the ones in dreams he’s woken up from on too many mornings with the uncomfortable need to take a cold shower. He almost puts the pipe down and pounces on Sieun right then and there.
He shakes his head, a poor attempt at clearing the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind, he scolds himself for thinking such things. Sieun gives him a quizzical look as he awkwardly laughs it off. Suho leans in even closer, finally lighting the bowl. He maintains eye contact the entire time, trying to sear this image of Sieun into his brain.
Now that Suho is this close, Sieun is equally as mesmerized by the sight of Suho; their size difference even more noticeable in this position as he leans over Sieun. He can see the noticeable results from Suho’s recent gym visits in excruciating detail as his arms remain hovering over Sieun. Sieun becomes so lost in the moment that he ends up inhaling far too much.
He pulls away, choking on the smoke forcefully exiting his lungs. It burns the inside of his throat as tears begin to pool at his eyes. He looks away from Suho, ashamed. Hands gripping the sheets, he manages to choke out a “Sorry.”
Suho puts the pipe down so he can lay a comforting hand onto Sieun. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s normal,” he promises, shooting Sieun another reassuring smile as he rubs soothing circles into the coughing boy's back.
Suho continues to soothe Sieun as he comes down from his coughing fit. Once he’s calmed down, Sieun finally focuses back on Suho, who is now looking off into the distance, clearly deep in thought. Sieun just watches, not wanting to interrupt whatever internal dialogue Suho is having with himself right now. Suho is running his hand through his hair, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth, when he finally notices that Sieun has long since stopped coughing.
Suho opens his mouth and closes it again, struggling to find the right words to say. Sieun continues watching him, waiting patiently. Suho looks away, avoiding eye contact as he rubs the back of his neck.
After a few minutes of this, Sieun begins to worry about what it is that has Suho so conflicted. Anxious again, he almost convinces himself he did something wrong when Suho finally speaks, uncharacteristically shy, “I have an idea that might make it easier.”
Sieun is not particularly sure what he had expected Suho to be so hesitant to say, but it most definitely was not that. “What is it?” he questioned, genuinely curious as to what other method there could be behind smoking—and what about it could have made him so nervous.
Suho pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to verbalize his thoughts. He realizes that he is almost assuredly trying his luck, but his judgment is far too clouded by his desire to see just how far he can push this already unbelievable experience.
Trying not to think too hard about the possible consequences of his next actions, he picks the pipe back up and feigns confidence as best he can as he retreats further back on the bed and pats his lap.
Suho takes a hit as Sieun stares at him with a blank look, tilting his head in confusion. “Come sit on my lap,” Suho clarifies, exhaling, only leaving Sieun even more disoriented. Nonetheless, he follows Suho’s directions.
Crawling over to where Suho is seated on the bed, Sieun lifts his leg over Suho’s, straddling his thigh.
Because he hadn’t originally planned on doing anything more than study, Sieun was dressed in a slightly oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. He very quickly regrets his choice of pants when he settles down on Suho's thigh and realizes how well he can feel the toned muscles beneath him.
Sieun swallows thickly, feeling faint, he doesn’t know how fast it was supposed to hit him. He can’t tell if he feels lightheaded due to the effects of smoking or if it’s purely from his proximity to Suho.
“Let me do all the work for you this time,” Suho advised, “just trust me and breathe in when I breathe out, you can do that, hm?”
Sieun can’t muster up any other response but a shy, slow nod, rendered speechless by the situation he’s found himself in. He fixes his gaze on Suho, who is lighting the bowl again, looking languidly into Sieun’s eyes as he gradually inhales before setting the pipe down.
A large part of Sieun’s brain is telling him that this entire situation is just one wildly vivid dream, one that he truthfully doesn’t wish to wake up from. It has probably only been about 20 minutes since he’d given up on studying, but to Sieun, it feels as if it’s been at least an hour. He looks up, scanning the room in an attempt to find any surface that might display the time.
Before he can pinpoint exactly how much time it's been, Sieun is brought back to reality when he feels Suho’s now free hand gently grab his chin, guiding his head back down to look Suho in the eyes once more.
Suho’s gaze drifts down to Sieun’s lips. Slowly gliding his hand up the side of Sieun’s jaw, Suho settles his thumb between the younger's lips, gently pressing his thumb down until they part.
With Sieun’s mouth open, Suho lifts his head towards the other, stopping barely an inch away. Sieun can focus on details in Suho’s face at this distance that he normally might not have, like his slightly overgrown hair falling over his eyebrows like a curtain. The closeness is exhilarating.
Sieun’s eyes flutter shut as Suho gradually exhales the smoke directly into his mouth. Sieun inhales, trusting Suho to control the amount of smoke that enters his lungs, before they part once more. He still faintly coughs at the burn that travels down his throat, but it doesn’t hurt in the same way it previously had.
If it wasn't the weed that was making Sieun feel dizzy earlier, it was undoubtedly having an effect on him now. He feels so light, like he might float away if it wasn’t for Suho’s arm that was now firmly wrapped around his waist holding him down. He smooths a hand over Suho’s chest with a newfound interest in how soft the other boy’s shirt is. Sieun glances down at Suho, who’s resting his head against the wall, eyes closed.
Sieun’s gaze slid further downward, trailing along Suho’s jaw, then his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. Sieun unintentionally lets out a small whimper, causing Suho’s eyes to snap open. Sieun hurriedly looks back up, “Can we do that again?” he asks in an attempt to distract Suho, hoping to not come off as affected as he is.
Suho, of course, heard it, but he could never deny Sieun anything, nor would he make him wait. Filing Sieun’s slip-up away in his brain for later, Suho promptly picks the pipe back up, striking his lighter once more and inhaling, then setting the pipe back down.
Suho takes Sieun’s face in his hand again. This time, letting his thumb slip into the boy’s mouth, feeling the wetness of saliva on his skin. He closes the distance again, near enough this time that their foreheads touch. Sieun still hasn’t opened his mouth enough, evidently taking Suho’s promise of doing all the work to heart. The corners of Suho’s lips twitch upwards as he gladly maneuvers Sieun’s mouth open further, aligning their lips into a near kiss, and exhales.
Sieun inhales, feeling warmth begin to spread through every corner of his body, a satisfying heaviness settling into his bones. Sieun exhales, melting into the crook of Suho’s neck, purring out a hum. The vibrations against Suho’s skin causing a shiver to run down his spine, arm hairs standing up on end.
Sieun’s senses are heightened, almost overwhelmingly so. He can taste the earthy flavor from the smoked herbs lingering in his mouth. His ears pick up on the quiet sounds the passing of fabric makes as Suho subconsciously runs his free hand up and down Sieun’s waist. He can smell the hints of coconut in the bodywash that Suho has used for years now. He can feel the warmth of Suho’s skin pressed up against his own.
So consumed by how good everything feels, Sieun doesn’t notice himself begin to subconsciously grind down onto Suho’s thigh until he chokes out a breathy moan, only then does he snap back to reality.
Sieun freezes, shooting straight up, finally looking at Suho, who is looking back at him with half lidded eyes. Sieun needs to escape Suho’s lap. He is about to pull away, lift himself off, when Suho puts both hands on either side of Sieun’s hips, holding him in place. “Hey, don’t leave, Sieun-ah” Suho murmurs.
Helpless, Sieun hides his face in his hands instead, too embarrassed to face the other. Suho takes his hands off the boy's hips to pull his arms down just as quickly, forcing Sieun to look at him, “It’s okay, Sieun-ah, you can use hyung to feel good,” he encourages, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.
Sieun goes completely still, mouth falling open in shock. He stares at Suho with wide eyes. Suho is speaking with such sincerity in his tone that one might assume this is a normal occurrence between the two.
Suho, deciding to give Sieun a small break from the teasing, asks, “Wanna take another hit? You think you can do it on your own this time?”
Sieun frowns, truthfully, he doesn’t want to try it on his own. He enjoyed letting Suho do it for him, letting Suho take control. Despite that, he nods.
Suho picks the pipe up again, this time turning it towards Sieun, who takes the mouthpiece between his lips. Suho looks up at Sieun as he lights the bowl before setting the lighter back down. As Sieun inhales, slower this time, Suho uses his free hand to grab hold of Sieun’s thigh, kneading into the soft skin. He takes his thumb off the carb, the rush of fresh air pushing the smoke into Sieun’s mouth.
Sieun rips away with a loud cough, his throat burning, sputtering out a puff of smoke. He really believed he had it this time—still thinks he could have if it weren’t for Suho being so damn distracting.
It doesn’t help that in his current state, it is significantly harder to keep himself composed. He’s so focused on trying to regulate his breathing that he doesn’t notice the thin stream of saliva escaping his mouth, glistening on his lower lip.
“Poor baby… you’re a drooling mess” Suho’s low, rough whisper makes Sieun feel all the more delirious. Suho puts the pipe down and leans forward, slowly, deliberately, using his tongue to trace a long line from Sieun’s bottom lip to the corner of his mouth.
Sieun groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to will himself to calm down. Suho hooks both hands around either of Sieun’s knees, pulling him closer, his clothed cock brushing against Suho’s thigh on the way, causing his breath to stutter.
“Is this okay?” Suho asks, his voice suddenly one of concern, a stark contrast to the sinful tone he had just moments ago. Sieun opens his eyes again to see Suho staring back at him with a fondness that he finds almost overwhelming. He wonders if Suho’s always looked at him like this.
Sieun gives a firm nod, avoiding eye contact, unable to think clearly enough to form a proper sentence over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
Suho smiles, looking down as he drags his hands higher, tantalizingly slow, massaging as they make their way up Sieun’s body.
His hands land on the smaller boy’s neck, clasping at his nape, and he pulls Sieun closer until their foreheads connect. Suho’s lips ghost over Sieun’s for a brief moment, breathing in each other's air, a silent exchange of life.
Sieun grows impatient waiting to be kissed. He’s being consumed by his desire, he wants more— needs more. Throwing all caution to the wind, he closes his eyes and crashes their lips together.
It's awkward at first—Suho can tell Sieun is inexperienced in this field. The idea of being Sieun’s first makes something swirl to life inside him. Suho pulls the other boy in even closer, deepening the kiss. Sieun’s lips were softer than Suho thought they’d be, tasting of the cherry chapstick he bought for the other at the corner store the other week.
“Open,” Suho whispers against Sieun’s mouth as he moves one hand up to the other boy’s face, tilting his head to better slot their lips together. Sieun obeys, parting his lips like he would to accept the smoke from Suho’s lungs.
Suho brushes his tongue along Sieun’s lower lip, drawing a pleased hum out of the boy that lands on Suho’s eardrum like an alluring song. He cherishes every little sound Sieun lets out, making it his mission to watch Sieun fall apart in front of him. He licks further into Sieun’s mouth, dragging his tongue along the other’s.
Suho explores the contours of Sieun’s warm and velvety mouth, with slow, languid movements before pulling back to nibble on his lower lip. Dragging both hands back down to Sieun’s hips, and squeezing, Suho begins kissing down the side of Sieun’s jaw.
Sieun lets out a breathy moan, involuntarily rolling his hips forward into Suho’s thigh. He turns his head away from Suho, still embarrassed, despite the two having crossed the line of normal friendly behavior quite a while ago.
Suho doesn’t mind it at all, it’s almost like a dream. The difference being that the real thing is so, so much better than anything his subconscious brain could conjure up. Sieun is perfect and pliant under his touch, like putty in his hands. He trails further down, sucking and nibbling along Sieun’s neck as he goes.
“It’s okay baby, you can move,” Suho husked against Sieun’s skin, using his grip on the boy's hips to push him down again. Sieun is in too much bliss to be embarrassed anymore, crying out as he feels the friction against his growing erection, his head tipping back.
“Suho,” Sieun moans breathily as Suho sucks on his collarbone. Sieun has to put in an effort to focus on the sensation, feeling Suho’s teeth lightly scraping against his skin, tugging.
Licking the bruise he’s left on Sieun’s neck, Suho pulls back to admire the disheveled state Sieun is in, all because of him. Suho notices the other boy bite down on his bottom lip as he grinds against Suho’s thigh again, as if he’s trying to stifle another moan.
“Look at me, Sieun-ah,” Suho orders, eyes filled with hunger, his desire written all over his face. When Sieun looks back at him, Suho lifts his hand to his face, coaxing his mouth open. “Does it feel good?”
Sieun swallows hard, whimpering as he rolls his hips forward. He doesn’t say anything, he can’t, the pleasure is too overwhelming.
Suho’s hand returns to grip Sieun’s hips, halting his motions, earning a needy whine from the boy. “Use your words baby, does humping my thigh feel good?” Suho asks, hiking his hands up Sieun’s shirt.
“Ye—fuck— yes,” Sieun chokes out, “please.”
At that, Suho frees his hand from Sieun’s hips, lifting them up and wrapping them around his back instead. Suho drags Sieun forward, harshly pulling him down, his crotch making contact with Suho’s thigh again with an exhilarating force. Sieun clutches onto Suho’s shirt, like he needs something to anchor him, moaning loudly.
Suho’s lips attach to Sieun’s neck, sucking and licking, savoring the taste of his skin. Sieun keeps up the pace, grinding rapidly, trying to chase a friction he can’t quite reach through the layers of clothing. A wetness begins to form where Sieun’s cock is pressed against his underwear.
He lets out a frustrated groan, desperately humping Suho’s thigh, trying to find a better angle. Suho leans back to look at Sieun, whose eyebrows are furrowed in concentration.
Suho smirks, he can tell Sieun is trying desperately to find release, but he wants Sieun to use his words. “What’s wrong, Sieun-ah?” he asks with a teasing tone.
“Please,” Sieun mewls, gripping Suho’s shirt even tighter. Reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess.
Suho flexes his muscles, lifting his thigh up into Sieun’s erection, “What do you want, baby?” He pretends to have no idea what it is Sieun is begging for. He slides his nails down Sieun’s back, hands landing on the hem of his pants.
Sieun shudders under Suho’s touch, he doesn’t know what he needs, he just needs more. “Hyung. Please,” he whines.
Suho’s resolve immediately snaps the second the needy, desperate ‘hyung’ reaches his ears. Fuck, it’s embarrassing to admit but he could get off from just that sound alone.
Suho slips his hands under the hem of Sieun’s pants. “Up,” he commands, and Sieun listens, lifting himself up off Suho’s thigh, holding Suho’s shoulders for support. Suho slides both his sweats and boxers off in one swift move, Sieun’s flushed cock finally able to breathe.
Suho pulls Sieun back down onto his thigh, Sieun’s cock rubbing against the fabric of Suho’s shorts, sending jolts of pleasure throughout the boy’s body.
Sieun continues to rock his hips back and forth, falling forward into Suho’s neck, licking and nibbling aimlessly at his skin.
Suho feels like he may be going insane, Sieun is right in front of him, unraveling from pleasure. Suho is so lost in the moment, his hard-on is straining—almost painfully so—in his pants. He doesn’t pay any mind to his own body begging for release though, only able to think of Sieun, Sieun, Sieun. Like a fire that consumes everything in its path, Suho is greedy, he needs more of the boy above him.
He grabs Sieun by the hair on the back of his head and drags him back up—not hard enough to hurt, but it still makes Sieun squeak in surprise. He puts his lips back on Sieun’s, working his mouth open with his tongue.
“Can I touch you?” Suho asks into Sieun’s mouth, voice dripping with desperation, almost adding on a please. He hopes the muffling of Sieun’s lips is enough to distract from how pathetic he sounded.
Any worry about how pathetic he may or may not have sounded goes out the window when Sieun moans into his mouth, pulling away—a string of saliva snapping between them as they part, breathing out a shaky “Please.”
Suho pulls back, Sieun has long since stopped grinding, distracted by Suho’s lips. He looks down, licking his lips, and almost drools at the sight of Sieun’s cock, twitching with anticipation. He gathers saliva in his mouth and spits in his hand, wrapping it around Sieun’s length, stroking it experimentally.
Sieun gasps, frantically rutting into Suho’s hand, letting out a low, pretty moan—like he’s finally found the friction he’s been searching for.
Sieun gets into a rhythm, his mind a symphony of bliss, feeling like he could reach the crescendo of pleasure at any moment—when he’s interrupted by a sudden loss of touch. Before Sieun can question the other boy, Suho flips them over, manhandling Sieun with ease, till he’s laying back on the bed. Suho hovers over him, and Sieun’s breath hitches as they make eye contact, his eyes blown out, glazed over with want.
Suho kisses him again, sloppy and wet, almost getting lost in his lips before he finally slowly retreats back down, kissing all over Sieun’s body as he makes his way back to Sieun’s neglected cock. Suho holds it in his hands, gliding his thumb over the tip, smearing the leaking precum over the slit. Sieun’s hands grip the bedsheets, keening as he involuntarily arches his back, feeling shockwaves of pleasure, choking out a long string of curses and pleas.
Suho removes his hand, hearing a quiet disappointed sigh escape the other boy’s lips. He’s learning how needy Sieun really is, it makes Suho’s mind race with all the different ways he could touch and tease him, all the intoxicating sounds he could coax out of him.
“Suho-yah,” Sieun whines, snapping Suho back to reality.
He shoots Sieun an apologetic look before spitting into his palm once more, wrapping his hand around Sieun again.
Suho strokes him, pumping slowly at first before building up speed, the obscene squelching sound almost drowned out by Sieun’s moans. Suho keeps his eyes glued firmly on Sieun as he strokes, wanting to commit every blissed out movement Sieun makes to memory.
He sneaks his free hand under Sieun’s shirt, still pumping, and brushes a thumb over the boy's nipples.
“Suho, ah, fuck—please,” Sieun hisses, writhing around.
Suho feels dizzy at the newfound knowledge of how sensitive Sieun’s chest is. He pumps faster, circling his thumb teasingly around Sieun’s nipple. “Please what, baby?” he asks, teasing.
“Please—I can’t, I'm gonna—“ Sieun’s cut off by his own strangled moan.
“It’s okay baby, cum for me,” Suho rasps, pumping even faster, pinching down on Sieun’s nipple.
The earth stutters on its axis, Sieun squeezes his eyes shut, explosions of pleasure rippling through his body as he convulses under Suho’s touch. White liquid landing on his stomach and on Suho’s hand.
Sieun finally comes down, going limp, opening his eyes to look up at Suho. The boy looks Sieun directly in the eyes as he licks the cum off his hand, slowly—like he’s savoring the taste. Suho then crawls back on top of Sieun, kissing him again. Sieun can taste himself in Suho's mouth—it’s salty, a bit weird, but not unpleasant.
“Gross,” Sieun says as Suho pulls back, scrunching his nose.
Suho smiles, “I know you found it hot,” he teases—and he’s right. It was so fucking hot, but Sieun uses what little dignity he has left in his body to resist admitting that aloud.
Suho climbs over Sieun to get off the bed, moving towards the door, leaving the room. With the sudden loss of warmth, everything finally catches up to Sieun. He may have been able to rationalize his feelings a lot better had he been sober, but he is still far from it.
His vision begins to blur, a lump forming in his throat, he starts to spiral. He realizes he doesn’t know where he and Suho stand after this. He doesn’t know if Suho did this just because they got high, if this is something he does often, or worse—if he only did it because he felt some sense of responsibility for Sieun. The thought of Suho feeling like he had to take care of him because he was too high to control himself like some animal causes Sieun to choke out a sob, right as Suho returns to the room.
Suho rushes towards Sieun, startled, “Sieun—woah, hey I’m right here, it’s okay,” he spills out frantically, trying to soothe the crying boy.
Sieun sniffles, hurriedly wiping his tears. “Sorry, fuck—I’m sorry.” he blubbers, exhausted and emotional.
“Don’t say sorry, baby, it’s okay.” Suho says as he gently caresses Sieun’s face, wiping a tear with his thumb. “Is it okay if I clean you up? I don't want you to feel all gross,” he asks, holding up his other hand, showcasing a warm wet washcloth.
Oh. Sieun feels so stupid, assuming the worst of Suho when he had only left to get something to make him more comfortable. He nods, even more tears spilling out, feeling too overwhelmed and guilty to get them to stop.
Suho gets to work, lifting the hand with the wash cloth up to Sieun and wiping away the sticky mess. His other hand travels to Sieun’s back, rubbing soothing circles as he scrubs. Once Sieun’s all clean, Suho speaks again, a bit quieter than before, “Is it okay if I take your shirt off? You can wear one of mine, yours got a little dirty.”
Sieun nods, hiccupping from how worked up he’d gotten, now slowly beginning to calm down.
Suho grabs the hem of Sieun’s shirt, carefully folding it in on itself and maneuvering it over the boy's head, making sure not to get him dirty again. He lets go of Sieun just long enough to grab a spare shirt and some underwear for the boy.
Suho returns just as quickly, and rolls the clean shirt up to the neckline so he can easily pull it over Sieun’s head. When Sieun doesn’t move to do it himself, too worn down from exhaustion, Suho grabs each hand and guides them through each armhole.
He then leans down, just as carefully guiding each leg into the boxer briefs, pulling them up until he reaches Sieun’s thighs. “Can you lift yourself up a little for me, angel?” he softly requests, and Sieun does, allowing Suho to slide them all the way up.
With Sieun clean and fully dressed, Suho turns the light off and climbs back onto the bed, pulling Sieun into his chest. “Now that you’ve calmed down, you think you can tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asks, brushing his fingers through Sieun’s soft hair.
Sieun sighs, nuzzling into the touch, “You don’t have to talk to me like that, or call me those names, I’ll be fine.”
Suho is silent for a moment, trying to decipher what Sieun is talking about. His stomach churns with a nervous excitement when he finally realizes what Sieun is thinking. He lifts Sieun up so they are face to face again, “What if I want to?”
Sieun stares at him, confusion evident on his face.
“I’ve been in love with you from the moment you looked at me like you wanted to kill me for knocking your pencil case over. Hell, it may have even been before that, I'd always noticed you even before that, but I only ever saw the back of your head.” He rambles, chuckling nervously, unsure if Sieun even really likes him back. He’s taking a hopeful shot in the dark and spilling the feelings he’s kept to himself for as long as he’s known the boy, hoping and praying to whatever god there is that he’s right in assuming Sieun feels the same.
Sieun bursts into tears again, scaring Suho. He looks down at his hands, embarrassed by how horribly he misunderstood Sieun’s feelings. “I’m sorry! It’s okay if you don’t like me in that way, I'll get over it and we can continue to be friends like norm—“ His desperate scrambling is cut off by a short, chaste kiss from Sieun.
When Sieun pulls back, Suho’s mouth is agape, wide eyes staring back at him. “I love you too,” Sieun giggles through his tears.
Suho grins like an idiot, “Oh—Okay. Wow. Well that’s really good because I know I was about to say we could be friends like normal—and I would have been able to do that but it would have driven me insane—especially after today so I'm really gla—“
Once again, Sieun has to shut him up with a kiss. He can barely keep his eyes open, the combination of getting high, cumming, then crying weighing down on him. “You can tell me all about how happy you are tomorrow, can we please sleep?” He asks, groggily.
Suho lays back on the bed, pulling Sieun down with him, a wide smile still lingering on his face. “Of course, baby, you need your beauty rest,” Suho chirps, earning a pinch at his side from Sieun. He laughs, pulling the blanket over them both and wrapping his arms around Sieun.
“Thank you,” Sieun purrs, burying his head into Suho’s chest with a happy sigh, muscles loosening as he relaxes into Suho’s touch, feeling safe.