The fraternity house was packed for the night, their annual Halloween party that their Social Chair, Jung Daehyun, had planned proving to be a booming success as it was every year. Even their elusive President, Bang Yongguk, who usually skipped large social functions like these, was standing at the doorway exchanging polite greetings with guests from the other houses.
“Hyung, you getting fucked up yet?!” Daehyun yelled over the music and stumbled toward Himchan, raising his bottle of Coors Light in the air. “I know I am,” he said, letting out a small burp into Himchan’s ear.
“Fucking gross, dude,” Himchan coughed, waving a hand across his face to waft away the remnants of Daehyun’s nasty beerbreath. “Coors Light’s probably the worst drink you can lay your hands on. I’m keeping it classy,” he raised his bottle of IPA to his mouth.
“Eye-pah,” Daehyun hiccuped, blinking absentmindedly at the letters on Himchan’s bottle.
“You’re hopeless,” Himchan chuckled, gently pushing the younger away into the crowd. “Go make out with some stranger while you’re still young!” he yelled as Daehyun disappeared into the mass of undulating bodies.
Just then, Himchan heard a familiar voice yell his name from behind.
He looked around but saw no one. Shrugging, he dipped his lips back into the opening of his drink, when he felt a rubbery object hit his head. It bounced off of the floor, and from what Himchan could make out under the erratic neon lighting, it was a pair of fake teeth.
“Ya!” the voice yelled again. It was coming closer now, and just before Himchan could identify his approaching target, the room went pitch black, the music going down with it. Some people in the crowd gasped in surprise at the sudden intrusion, and some jeered as Jongup’s familiar voice filled the speakers to explain that there were some technical difficulties that were being resolved.
Himchan, however, couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on what exactly was being said because--
There was someone else’s tongue.
In his mouth.
“Mmm--???!” Himchan murmured into the stranger’s lips. His mind scrambled frantically, querying a search for anyone who had shown romantic interest in him within the past few years. There had been many “suitors” during his freshman year when he still considered himself skinny, but as soon as he had started to gain weight and form creases around his eyes, people lost interest in him. Now a senior, he had been visiting the gym regularly for the past six months or so, allowing him to regain some of his structural integrity. However, his efforts were not enough to revert back to his original svelte form, and certainly not enough to detract attention from the rest of the handsome crew at Beta Alpha Rho—and as a result, Himchan had not come even close to making out with anyone for the past two years.
In his confused panic, Himchan brought his hands to the stranger's shoulders in an effort to try to pry them off of his body. The stranger’s shoulders were draped with some thin, velvety material, and the smooth texture of the fabric made it difficult for Himchan to get a tight grip on them. As Himchan continued his futile attempts to gain a firm grasp on the person’s shoulders, the stranger, who was probably as piss drunk as Daehyun was when Himchan last saw him, mistook this as a sign of passion and began clinging even tighter onto Himchan’s body. Himchan stumbled backward, and just then, the lights and music came back on. The crowd roared, drowning out Jongup’s feeble attempts to thank them for their patience.
The ‘stranger’ released their mouth from Himchan’s and glared furiously into Himchan’s eyes, tightening their grip on the lapels of Himchan’s suit. Even before his eyes completely adjusted to the light, Himchan could recognize instantly who this ‘stranger’ was -- from the distinct, plump curve of his button nose, to his fluffy, uncombed bangs, to his shapely, plump lips.
Yoo Youngjae. The very person who, last week, mandated Himchan to “keep a three feet distance between them at all times,” the one who – in his very own words, told him I get a weird feeling in my stomach everytime you’re near me.
“Yer a…an asshole, Kim Himchan,” Youngjae slurred, his face merely inches away from Himchan’s, so close he could practically taste the alcohol on his breath. “You fukken…ignored me for a whole—week you sonovabitch…” He glared at Himchan as best as he could with his half-lidded eyes.
“Jesus, how much have you had to drink?” Himchan gaped at him, ignoring the fact that his dongseng just stuck his tongue in his mouth for a few seconds and had dropped his usual honorifics.
“None yer biznis …” Youngjae grimaced, his face leaning in dangerously close to Himchan’s again, as if he were preparing for another kiss. “Yer not my fukken mom,” he drawled, as a sliver of drool that had dripped from the corner of his mouth mixed with the fake blood on his chin.
“You’re breaking your three feet rule,” Himchan chuckled, lifting a palm to steady the younger man.
“Wuh?” Youngjae squinted at him.
“Remember last week? You told me to keep at least three feet of distance in between us at all times. Told me I made you feel weird.”
“I do feel weird,” Youngjae whined. Himchan was beginning to feel a flush rising to his cheeks. He was glad no one was paying attention to either of them. “I feel so fukken weird when you’re around – like, like there’s a ball in my stomach – and not like a, an nutsack, like an actual… ball…” he trailed off, resting his face on the crook of Himchan’s neck as Himchan broke out into a bout of snickering.
“You think this’s funny?” Youngjae glowered again, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. “I like you so fukken much, hyung, and you – you’re just gon’ laugh?”
“You like me!” Himchan chortled. “I thought you hated me! You told me to keep a distance!”
“That was – jus' me bein’ a shithead,” Youngjae wrapped his hands around Himchan’s thick neck, placing his drunken mouth on Himchan’s cheek. “God, I like you so, so much, hyung, you-- dunneven know.”
At that moment, Himchan felt euphoria wash over him – as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder despite Youngjae's arms around his neck were physically weighing him down. For the past few weeks, Himchan had been afraid that Youngjae had, in fact, grown to dislike him. He tried to play the “good older brother” role quite a few times, but with Yongguk being so lenient on their fellow fraternity brothers, he often had to take on a stricter, almost parental role. As a result, he’d gotten into fights with Daehyun and Junhong often, and even sometimes Youngjae, and despite his realization that he was, at times, being overbearing, Himchan always sought to act in what he thought was in the best interest for his younger brothers.
Another problem that Himchan was often too physical with his affections – too touchy, which was usually well-received by most but sometimes greatly embarrassed a select few. He lived with this realization for years, but at the end of the day, he just couldn’t help it – when he was happy, he was extremely happy, and just like a dog wagged its tail to signify its happiness, Himchan made it obvious through headrubs, hugs, and even sometimes casual smacks on his friends’ butts.
When Youngjae confronted Himchan about him invading his personal space, Himchan was first struck by surprise. Youngjae, although occasionally expressing some distaste in Himchan’s form of affection, never struck him as the type to reject it outright. It was news to Himchan that Youngjae felt uneasy when Himchan was around him, which led to Himchan shutting Youngjae off completely during the past week. He didn’t want to upset Youngjae any further than he apparently had been doing for God knows how long, and he could think of no graceful way of going about it other than to drop everything he was doing and bolt in the opposite direction whenever he caught a glimpse of Youngjae coming toward him.
And now – now, Youngjae, as best as he could in his drunken state, was destroying the very fear that plagued Himchan’s mind during the past week – the fear that Youngjae truly disliked Himchan and didn’t want him around.
“So it’s okay for me to be close to you now?” Himchan asked, nuzzling the tip of his nose onto Youngjae’s.
“Mm,” Youngjae shook his head. “Not this close, it’s – um…”
“Makes you feel weird?” Himchan smiled, flashing his large front teeth at his dongseng.
“Yeah,” Youngjae said quietly, averting Himchan’s gaze. There was a faint blush forming on the shell of his ear and the top of his cheeks.
At that moment, Himchan realized just how much Youngjae liked him. You could use “like” for many things – you can like your classes, your professors, your classmates, your parents, friends, brothers – you could “like” many things – but this “like” was obviously of a – stronger nature.
Youngjae liked him.
Gee, this should’ve crossed your mind when you found the guy’s tongue in your mouth, Himchan thought to himself as his dongseng buried his face deeper into Himchan’s chest. They lay silent for a while, gently hugging while they rocked back and forth to the rhythm blasting from the speakers.
Maybe this was the three beers he downed in the past hour, or maybe it was the fact that Youngjae was one of his closest, most trusted friends – but Himchan was not particularly -- bothered by the the fact that this hilariously shitfaced Youngjae was – in his absurd, chaotic way, hitting on him. He didn’t mind at all, and as much as this realization terrified him, it excited him. For the past week, he hadn’t been able to touch Youngjae, let alone glance at him without feeling like he was doing something wrong. And now, in some bizarre turn of events, he was back in Himchan’s arms.
He felt -- happy.
Himchan cupped Youngjae’s tiny face with his hands, guiding his chin upward so that they were looking eye-to-eye.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” Himchan grinned, as Youngjae’s face flushed a deeper color. “You can tell me all about how much you like me.”
Himchan should’ve known better than to escort a horny, drunk, hyped up Yoo Youngjae into his bedroom expecting that they’ll end up having a simple conversation and calling it a night. As soon as Youngjae had finished hobbling up the stairs with Himchan, he threw his body onto his hyung's, crashing through the door to the two oldest's shared bedroom and knocking over the lava lamp as they toppled onto Yongguk's twin mattress, which was already occupied by another couple. Himchan heard a girl scream followed by the jingling sound of a guy putting his belt back on. “Sorry!” he yelled out as the partygoers scrambled out of his bedroom in a panicked frenzy. Youngjae’s wet, drunken mouth was on Himchan’s again, his tongue eagerly wrapping under Himchan’s as he angled his head sideways to deepen the kiss. His hands flew toward Himchan’s belt buckle and fumbled furiously as he continued to bite and suck on Himchan’s lower lip.
“Mmf—wait, wait!! Slow down!” Himchan shouted breathlessly as his face continued to be punched by Youngjae’s lips.
“You wan’ know how much I like you, hyung?” Youngjae drawled, narrowing his eyes at Himchan provocatively. Himchan gulped. Despite all the saliva they had been exchanging, his throat felt dry.
“I’ll show you how much I like you,” Youngjae said, flipping his shirt over his head in an attempt to remove it in one swift motion. It didn’t work. He was still wearing his cape which was part of his half-assed vampire costume, and his shirt ended up getting stuck on his neck, exposing the entirety of his naked torso to an amused albeit slightly horrified Himchan. “Fuckin’ dammit,” he cursed as he fumbled with the arm holes of his shirt, managing to get only his right arm out before he gave up and collapsed onto Himchan’s chest which was heaving up and down with laughter.
“Oh my god,” Himchan cackled shamelessly. “What the hell were you trying to do?!”
“I was tryna be sexy,” Youngjae pouted dejectedly.
“It’s alright, you’re already –” Himchan paused.
Sexy. That wasn’t a word that he would’ve used on any of his fraternity brothers, let alone the one on top of him. He supposed Youngjae was - cute, purely from an objective standpoint. His tiny face, in addition to being blessed with a pretty button nose and arguably even prettier lips, was engraved with a pair of large, expressive eyes that would narrow into thin slits whenever he broke out into one of his explosive bouts of loud, infectious laughter. But it was a type of "cute" that Himchan would've attributed to a dog or a cat. Whenever Himchan saw him skipping away from Daehyun after trolling him on Overwatch for the hundredth time, he was reminded of a shiba inu, like the one his next door neighbor used to have when he was still in elementary school. This similarity made itself even more apparent whenever Himchan patted his dongseng on the head or pinched his cheeks, to which the younger often responded by proudly flashing a set of pearly, perfectly straight teeth towards him. Although there were many words Himchan could use to describe Youngjae, the word "sexy" was not one of them.
He pursed his lips and simmered in his regret as Youngjae’s eyes twinkled delightedly. “You think I’m--?”
“No!” Himchan blurted out and immediately regretted his decision as Youngjae’s face sank.
“You don’ think I’m sexy?” Youngjae looked as if he was about to burst into tears any moment. “You don’ like me?”
“No, as in, I’m – I’m still…” Processing what the fuck is happening, he completed the thought in his head. “Thinking. I’m still, yeah.”
“You don’ like me,” Youngjae repeated calmly, his expression blank, unreadable.
“I didn’t say–“ Himchan started, but immediately stopped when he noticed Youngjae’s eyes welling with tears. “No. Yes. Yes! I like you!” he spat back, scrambling to take ahold of Youngjae’s slender shoulders and pulling him down into a messy hug.
“You do?” Youngjae sniffled and lifted his head to look at Himchan. Their lips were almost touching.
“Uh, yeah, whatever. Sure,” Himchan stammered guiltily. It wasn’t entirely untrue: he did like Youngjae in a brotherly way, just like he did with the rest of the fraternity members. And it was true that Youngjae and Himchan got along incredibly well despite their three-year age difference and the fact that they majored in completely different fields and had completely different priorities. He and Youngjae – connected. They had a mutual understanding between each other and when they would hang out by themselves, it always felt natural, unforced. They didn’t have to try to get to know each other or try to make conversation – their friendship simply -- was.
And there was no doubt in anyone's eyes that in addition to respecting him for his tactical budgeting as the Treasurer of Beta Alpha Rho, Himchan appreciated Youngjae for his mere presence alone. Whenever things got too tense in the house, he would be there to lighten the mood, making a fool out of himself even though he and everyone else knew that he was one of the brightest guys in his graduating class. He pretended to be a narcissist, but under that façade lay a sensible, gentle soul. He had a malleable personality and could mold himself to fit any situation, but never lost his underlying toughness. He was, simply put, Youngjae. And Himchan, as well as the other brothers in the frat loved him just for being his kind, stupid self.
“I like you,” Himchan repeated, more calmly this time. He wasn’t sure if he was saying it to convince Youngjae or himself. And he certainly wasn’t sure if he reciprocated Youngjae’s feelings in the exact, horny way that it had presented itself, but what he was sure of – was that whatever he felt at that moment toward his brother, his housemate, his friend counted as a “like”.
And his brand of “like,” although he convinced himself was entirely different from Youngjae’s – did not prevent him from being sloppily kissed by Youngjae yet again, nor did it prevent him from grabbing Youngjae’s face and plunging a tongue into his dongseng’s mouth, nor did it prevent him from running his hands over Youngjae’s partially exposed midriff, lingering on his small hips and finally settling to cup his firm ass as the younger man grinded down on his half-hard cock, moaning softly against Himchan’s lips as he did so.
The only thing that did stop Himchan was the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. He turned sharply toward the doorway, bewildered, as he released his mouth from Youngjae’s with an awkwardly wet, popping noise.
Yongguk stopped dead in his tracks as the pair turned toward him, a hot mess of sweaty limbs and partially undone clothing. “Um, hey,” Yongguk reached over to the top of the dresser, keeping his eyes transfixed on the – situation in front of him as his fingers circled around his keys. “I was -- I was just gonna take the Camry out for a beer run.”
“Um yeah, haha, be safe,” Himchan uttered absentmindedly.
“Y-you too,” Yongguk mumbled in a low voice as he scampered away, tripping over the lavalamp that Himchan and Youngjae had knocked over earlier. The door closed with a loud wham behind him.
“Youngjae-ya,” Himchan spoke softly to his dongseng after he had finished his bouts of internal screaming. “Ya, Youngjae-ya.” Youngjae, who had hidden his face in the crook of Himchan’s neck during Yongguk’s intrusion, did not budge. Youngjae had fallen fast asleep, confirmed by the soft snores being emitted from the younger man’s nose at regular intervals.
Himchan smacked a palm to his face and chuckled at himself dryly. He thought about the inevitably awkward conversation he and Yongguk were going to have the next day and suddenly felt drained, as if Youngjae had kissed the life out of him like one of those Dementors from the Harry Potter movies Jongup liked to watch, and Yongguk walking in on them was the final punch needed to knock him out completely. Although he could still feel the music vibrating from downstairs, he needed to get some rest, badly.
Using the last of his strength, he lifted Youngjae’s body up from the mattress and carried him onto the fraternity’s shared couch bed, which was closest to the bathroom in case he needed to use it, and gently stuffed a cushion under his head. He grabbed one of his reusable canteen bottles and filled it with water from the bathroom sink, placing it next to the trashcan that he made sure to line with a plastic bag incase Youngjae needed to throw up in the middle of the night.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, laying a hand on the side of Youngjae’s head. The boy wriggled deeper into his blanket, the soft curve of his cheeks disappearing under the terrycloth material.
Youngjae cracked open his iPad from its protective case as he sat in the empty classroom, waiting for his afternoon discussion to start. Maybe he had arrived too early, he thought to himself, as he squinted at the clock on his monitor. 12:58. Huh. He twirled his tablet pen in his hand, once, twice, until it rolled off his index finger and onto the floor.
He groaned, lifting himself off of the desk to retrieve the pen. He noticed a pair of men’s dress shoes in the doorway and looked up, finding himself face to face with a familiar face.
“Himchannie-hyung,” Youngjae gulped. He was getting that weird feeling in his stomach again. Shit, why is he here? We don’t even have classes in the same building.
“Youngjae,” Himchan said in a mocking tone, imitating Youngjae’s startled expression as he stepped towards him. Youngjae’s eyes bulged as he took in the full breadth of Himchan’s attire: the man came to school fully decked out in a tailormade suit.
Holy fuck, he looks amazing. Youngjae thought to himself for a good second, running his eyes up and down the older man's body, until the thought ‘why the fuck is he wearing a goddamn suit to school’ clouded his mind. Suddenly snapping out of his trance, he remembered the rule that he established with Himchan a week ago. “Nope!” He yelled at Himchan, holding up a hand in his face. “Ya! Don’t come any closer, remember what I told you last we--” he paused mid-speech as Himchan grabbed his wrist and yanked it towards him, making him stumble forward and placing his face so close to Himchan’s that one careless move could result in a broken nose – or even worse, a kiss.
“W-what’re you doing?!” Youngjae panicked, as Himchan continued to step forward, backing Youngjae up into the classroom wall. He flipped Youngjae around with ease, pressing Youngjae into the cold stone wall as he breathed into his ear.
“You like me, don’t you?” Himchan sneered. Youngjae, with his cheek pressed against the wall, clenched his eyes, feeling the entirety of his own heart pounding mercilessly in his ears. “You want me,” Himchan breathed again, scraping his teeth along the nape of Youngjae’s neck.
“N-no, I—” Youngjae babbled, as Himchan, with his other hand that wasn’t being using to pin Youngjae’s wrist against the wall, swiftly untucked Youngjae’s shirt from his jeans. “H-hyung—” Youngjae stammered again, but was interrupted as his hyung’s warm, calloused hands made its way up the side of his torso and found its mark on Youngjae’s chest. He pinched at his nipple lightly, making Youngjae emit a faint whimper from his nose.
Himchan continued to feel him up as Youngjae leaned his head back onto Himchan’s shoulder, shuddering from the older man’s gentle, pleasurable strokes along his body.
“Ah—ah, I—” Youngjae moaned, struggling to answer Himchan’s inquiry from earlier.
“Hm?” Himchan grinned, pressing a wet kiss onto Youngjae’s cheek.
“I—want—” Youngjae gasped, his eyelashes fluttering open as Himchan continued to press kisses downward along the side of his neck. “I want—” he breathed out, unable to continue his thoughts from sheer embarrassment and fear that his classmates might walk in on them at any moment -- and clenched his eyes tightly again.
“You want me?” Himchan growled into the shell of Youngjae’s ear as he began to undo Youngjae’s zipper.
“Yes!” Youngjae cried out, his voice shaking. “God, fuck yes.”
“Good boy,” Himchan whispered. Youngjae could feel the triumph dripping through Himchan’s voice as he plunged his hand down Youngjae’s pants, eliciting an unbridled moan from the younger man. If it weren’t for the fact that it felt so fucking good to be touched by him – to physically feel his hands lusting after his body – Youngjae would’ve punched his hyung in the face by now.
And there was this tiny, additional thing preventing from hurting Himchan – the fact that over the past three years that Youngjae had known Himchan, he had fallen irreversibly in love with his hyung, and had been keeping his thoughts bottled up for much longer than he would have liked to admit. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it was just a phase, and no matter what measures he seemed to take, even going so far as to tell the man himself to keep some physical distance in between them, it only backfired on him, making him fall deeper and deeper into this annoyingly gregarious and stupidly handsome bastard.
Youngjae broke out of his trance, as he noticed that he was no longer being pushed into the wall, but was being – pushed down, rather, onto the familiar softness of his own mattress back at the frathouse.
“What the fuck?” He cried out in confusion. He noticed how naked he was, how they both were, as he shot a glance over his shoulder toward his hyung.
“Hm? Did you not want to be face down anymore?” Himchan asked casually, as if he were asking him what he ate for lunch that day. “That’s alright,” he smiled, flipping Youngjae over onto his back and inserting – or rather, re-inserting his lubed cock into Youngjae’s ass. Youngjae opened his mouth to utter a shocked cry, but no sound came out, and instead saw a bright flash of light fill the expanse of his vision.
“Youngjae-ya!” he heard a familiar voice shake him awake. His head panged with a splitting headache.
“Urghhhh,” he groaned, covering his eyes from the sunlight leaking through their shitty, broken blinds.
“Oh, my god, you scared me,” Himchan slumped down onto the carpeted floor. “I heard this weird noise – sounded like a dying cat so I came to check, and you were moaning like crazy. I thought you were choking on your own vomit or something.”
Youngjae froze at the mention of the word “moan,” the contents of his most recent horny dream flooding his memories. “Uh, yeah, thanks,” he said, curling into a tighter ball to hide the fact that he was hard.
“Yah, that’s no way to treat your hyung after he took care of you last night!” Himchan lifted the garbage can near Youngjae’s face. “Judging from the sour smell, I assume you made use of this apparatus that your magnanimous brother had set up for you.”
“I can’t – remember…” Youngjae groaned, plopping his chin onto the soft pillow. “Did we… what did we do last night?”
“I, for one, was drinking responsibly. You, on the other hand, got shitfaced,” Himchan explained bluntly. “And after that you—” he pursed his lips closed, averting his gaze from Youngjae’s, furrowing his brows slightly as he did so.
“Nevermind,” he ended abruptly, proceeding to lift himself up onto his feet.
“Wait, what did I do?!” Youngjae cried.
“Shut uuup,” Junhong whined from a few feet away, stuffing his face into a pillow. He was lying face up on the floor, his long legs sprawled out in awkward angles around their coffee table. He had lost the top half of his Captain America costume in the course of the night and was snoozing in his usual thin, black undershirt.
“What. Did. I. Do?” Youngjae repeated, whispering this time, grabbing Himchan’s sleeve to drag him back down beside him. Himchan shifted his gaze again and kneaded his hands together, pursing his lips.
“You – seriously don’t remember?”
Youngjae shook his head. “Well, I remember doing shots with Daehyun and some of his friends, and then I vaguely remember throwing my vampire teeth at you, and then the rest is just – blank.”
Himchan sighed. “You – well, first of all,” he took a deep breath in. “You terminated your three feet rule with me, so that’s why I’m sitting so close to you.”
“Uh huh,” Youngjae nodded nervously. “That shit was stupid, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even suggested it.”
Himchan nodded. “It was, legitimately, one of the most difficult things I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know what to do, so I just dropped all my shit and ran out the room whenever you came in.”
“I noticed,” Youngjae chuckled tentatively. “It was sorta–” Cute. “—funny.” He noticed Himchan wrinkling his nose at him in disapproval. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t request anything like that ever again, hyung,” Youngjae lifted his face off of his pillow, his grip on Himchan’s sweatshirt tightening.
Himchan looked away. Youngjae, in his barely awake stupor, traced the older man's profile with his eyes – starting from the the sharp jawline back up to the soft curve of his chin, then to his slightly protruding upper lip, traveling up the slope of his defined nose, and finally settling on his beady black eyes. His head felt awful, as if there was a tiny man with a hammer trying to pound his skull open from the inside out, but being next to his hyung made him momentarily unaware of the pain.
“What did I do after that?” Youngjae decided to speak up finally, after taking a few seconds to admire his hyung’s beautifully structured face.
“You told me you liked me,” Himchan muttered under his breath, still facing away from Youngjae.
“Excuse me?” Youngjae blinked.
“And you, um, kissed me,” Himchan murmured again. A red flush was starting to course its way through his ears and neck.
Youngjae stared incredulously at Himchan. “Haha, nah,” he negated. “Nah, no way, mm-mm.”
“Yongguk-ah saw us,” Himchan finally turned toward him, his beady eyes boring straight into Youngjae’s. “Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
“Why. How. Why,” Youngjae babbled, at a loss for words.
“Man, I don’t know, maybe it was the alcohol? I don’t know why!” Himchan hissed back, keeping his tone hushed as to not wake Junhong again. “I should be asking you, you kissed me!”
Instead of answering him, Youngjae dove under his blanket and became completely silent. Himchan, after waiting a few seconds for him to continue the conversation, became impatient, attempting to pry the cloth off of his face. Youngjae put up a good fight, flailing his legs and using his elbows to block his hyung’s attempts to get a solid grip on the cloth separating him from his inevitable mortification, but his efforts proved to be useless. Himchan, grabbing fistfuls of the soft cloth in both hands, yanked it off of Youngjae in one, swift motion. Youngjae’s hands flew up to his face, but Himchan pried them open with ease, pinning his wrists down onto the surface of the couchbed.
The face of the man below him was flushed a deep red, with beads of sweat decorating his hairline. He blinked away his tears of embarrassment and pursed his lips stubbornly, refusing to meet Himchan’s eyes with his own.
“Holy shit,” Himchan blinked amusedly. “You really do have it bad for me.”
In the next moment, Himchan found himself on the carpeted floor, clutching his testicles with both hands. Youngjae dashed out of the bed, slamming and locking the bathroom door behind him. As Himchan let out a pained cry, Junhong threw a pillow into the back of the man’s head. “Shut uuup, I’m tryina sleep here,” the maknae whined, and rolled over, and within a few seconds was fast asleep again.
[Later that day]
“Hyung, you’re throwing that away?!” Daehyun bulged his eyes out as Yongguk stuffed his sheets into a garbage bag. “You literally just bought that on Labor Day!”
“Yeah, well…” Yongguk sighed, tying a tight square knot with the strings on the trash bag. “Shit happened.”