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Sungho stares at the boy sitting next to him in the worn-out couch, clammy hands splayed on his thighs as he slyly tries to dry the sweat off. Dongmin’s apartment is a shitty shoebox in a two-story building that has seen better in its early days. The only view they have is a brick wall over a gray alleyway, where one can see people snorting coke and smoking dope at any time of the day. The window remains forever open, Dongmin told him once that it has been broken since he moved there and he never bothered to fix it because he likes the smell of rain that fills the flat sometimes.
Just like right now, as light drizzles from outside silently hits the ground underneath the window.
He has been in this same apartment, sitting in the same worn-out couch hundreds of times before. But never like this, never after Dongmin confessed his overwhelming feelings for him, never after realizing that the boy he has been secretly crushing on has a crush on him too. Never with Dongmin moving from the place he’s sitting, getting closer to Sungho until he’s nervously looking at his lap and back to his face, a silent request.
Sungho is still dazed from the moment of Dongmin’s indirect confession, nodding hesitantly while taking off the clammy hands from his lap. Dongmin is scarlet red on the cheeks when he straddles the older, body trembling in equal nervousness, looking at the silver pendant in Sungho’s necklace – a T, something Dongmin gave him years ago as a friendship token, but he lost his own long ago.
It must be surprising for him that Sungho still has his, that he walks around everyday wearing it when Dongmin never paid much mind to the one with Sungho’s initials.
But Dongmin still adores him, loves him even – if saying that you want to blow your best friend could be considered a modern confession of love.
How they got there is not so long of a story, it was as fast as ripping a band-aid off. For once, it wasn’t Sungho that accidentally spilled the feelings inside him and fucked up their friendship, nor it was Dongmin with some mixtape filled with lovesongs that he keeps saying are only music recommendations. No, it was Myung Jaehyun who got them in that situation by drinking more than his weak ass could take and spilling feelings that aren’t his. It was all in the open in a blink of an eye, almost like a vinyl being scratched and stopping the music.
“Hyung, can I kiss you?” Dongmin asks, voice frail in the silence of the living room. It’s strange to hear him talking like this, so unsure and nervous, fidgeting with the ends of all the bands around his wrist. So different from the Han Taesan he sees everyday – but still as lovely.
For the first time in his life, Sungho has no idea how to act around Dongmin.
⏮
Here’s how Dongmin and Sungho became friends: a record shop, a comment about an allegedly terrible taste in music and a The Carpenters vinyl playing in the vicinity. Sungho loved to visit the record shop at the end of the street, squeezed between a small noodle house and a laundromat, something that could go unnoticeable if you’re not paying enough attention. Sungho found this place when he was eleven, and ever since, he never spent a single afternoon without coming to the store to check new releases or give a listen to the ones he likes the most. It’s like his hiding spot in this town, the one place you can be sure to always find the boy.
Like some cliché romance, Sungho also found the love of his life in between music and handmade mixtapes. A comfort place, new songs for him to listen to, a feeling that he never felt before in his life. That’s what Dongmin brought together with him when he stopped next to Sungho in the new releases section and snatched a vinyl from his hands – Substance by Joy Division, Sungho still remembers the grimace in Dongmin’s face and his complaint on how he could like that. Since that day, their strange friendship bloomed to the extent of them being attached to the hip.
Everyone knows that Sungho and Dongmin come in a duo package. Where Sungho is, one can be certain that Dongmin soon will tag along.
Sungho makes the known path to the record store, still at the same corner squeezed between the small noodle house and the laundromat. His feet clad in white converse walks confidently through the streets, looking forward to finding his best friend waiting for him inside the store. It’s a habit of them, to always see each other in the afternoons in the record store like in the first time they met. Dongmin always leaves him handwritten notes in Sungho’s mailbox, an enigmatic meet me at our spot, 3 p.m. followed by a GIANTMOUNTAIN and a bunch of silly drawings. He keeps the notes inside of a box under his bed, all of them.
He pulls open the front door, the chime at the top announcing his entrance. The woman behind the counter – Seulgi, the noona that lets Sungho blast Madonna in the place if she’s in the mood – acknowledges him with a head nod, going back to flipping pages of whatever magazine she got her hands into. Sungho visits the place so many times that he has already developed some type of friendship with the employees, sometimes bringing them snacks and engaging in small talk. He takes a deep breath, nose filling with the smell of dust and the scented candles Beomgyu sometimes light on the place to make it smell better.
Still smells weird, but the kind of weird that brings Sungho a sense of comfort.
Hidden behind the shelves where they keep the half-the-price vinyls, Sungho spots a head of pink brown hair that he’s been looking for. Dongmin decided to experiment with hair dyeing a few months ago, and ever since that, the color has never left the boy’s strands. Obviously, he can’t deny that the color suits him a lot, but he’s forever afraid of accidentally showcasing his stupid crush over his best friend. Sungho walks to him, smiling fondly as he sees the younger flipping through the vinyls, bottom lip caught between his teeth and focused eyes searching for what he wants.
Sungho isn’t sure if it’s possible to fall more in love with someone, but that’s what he feels everytime he sees Dongmin.
“Taesan-ah, what you looking for?” Sungho says in lieu of greeting, bumping his arm on the younger’s, catching his attention.
“Hyung.” Dongmin looks at him, beaming but keeping his cool persona. Sungho feels the air getting punched out of him, Dongmin never ceases to look more beautiful each time they meet.
A fallen angel, clad in black from head to toe.
Dongmin wears his usual attire. Black, leather pants that hugs his thighs in a way that makes Sungho’s head spin, wrists full of spiked bands, a t-shirt with Fleetwood Mac’s logo – his favorite band, a surprise for Sungho since he never thought Dongmin would be into their music taking into account his whole visual. And the cherry on top, his all black converse, a matching set with the white ones Sungho is wearing. They don’t speak about it, but it’s more than visible that Dongmin bought his with the prospect of matching with his hyung. It feels like the type of thing couples would wear, and deep down Sungho wished this was their reality.
The concept of Dongmin wanting to have matching stuff with him like couples do is enough to make Sungho’s heart beat faster for a whole week.
“Do you remember the Queen release I told you about last time?” Dongmin asks, going back to flipping through the records.
“ A Night at the Opera,” Sungho hums, taking a closer look at one of the boxes on the ground – usually the ones they almost give it for free in order to get it out of the shop.
“That’s the one!” Dongmin gleams, fingers moving faster as he looks down at Sungho. “Hey, did you listen to the mixtape I made for you?”
Another one of Dongmin’s couple antics that never fails to make Sungho get hopeful: he makes mixtapes for him. Every month, sometimes every week if he’s in the mood to spend a whole Saturday in the backrooms of the store with Joy nagging at him that her boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to her and how Dongmin should learn to never treat his future partner like that. As it seems, Dongmin is the only person in town that has the privilege of making mixtapes whenever he wants because his cousin’s girlfriend works in the best record store they have. And Sungho is the only person in town that has the privilege of having those mixtapes in hand.
In the beginning, they were just song recommendations, nothing to make a big deal out of it. Dongmin seemed to take a dramatic approach about how Sungho needed to expand his musical repertoire and how he was the only one able to do that since he had the best music taste in the whole town. Back then, Sungho was already too down bad to turn down the monthly mixtapes given to him or being left in his mailbox.
Lately, it doesn’t look like only song recommendations anymore. It’s been subtle at first, some love songs that could mean nothing and everything at the same time. Now, Dongmin seemed bold enough to add songs that sounds more like confessions that anyone would die to hear – and Sungho loves it, even if a nagging voice in the back of his mind keeps telling that maybe Dongmin isn’t doing that on purpose, no second intentions behind his music choices.
The mixed signs between them fills Sungho with hope and crushes it at the same time, and he’s slowly descending into madness with every passing day next to Dongmin.
“‘course. I liked the songs a lot. Still not the type I would listen to if I had a choice, but I gotta admit Van Halen has some good stuff,” Sungho says, getting a chuckle out of Dongmin. “Thank you for the mixtape. You do know that you don’t need to do them every single week, right?”
“You want me to stop then?” Dongmin asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed, the telltale of a pout slowly showing on his soft lips.
“No!” Sungho turns red at the realization of how loud his voice came out. “I like it. The mixtapes, I mean. They’re nice, you don’t have to stop giving them to me if you don’t want to.”
“Great,” Dongmin says, coughing to hide the strange excitement in his voice. “I won’t stop making them until your music taste is as excellent as mine.”
“You consider your taste in music excellent?” Sungho snorts, scratching the back of his arm to mask his embarrassment from before. “Keep dreaming, Karen Carpenter fanboy.”
“Yah, what’s wrong with liking the best drummer of 1975?” Dongmin huffs, finally finding the record he was looking for and taking it out of the pile.
⏭
“I–” Sungho swallows drily, looking anywhere instead of the boy on his lap. “Dongmin-ah, are you sure?”
“Hyung.” Dongmin flushes a shade of red that looks mesmerizing, making him look like a ripe strawberry. “Don’t you wanna kiss me?”
“I… I do,” he says with eyes wide as saucers. “It’s just–”
“You don’t like me like that.” Dongmin laughs bitterly, looking at Sungho’s chest – at their supposedly friendship necklace that Sungho gives it more importance than it should be considered normal.
“No,” Sungho whispers, taken aback by the sudden sadness that overtakes Dongmin’s face.
“Of course,” he says weakly, head hanging low and shaking side by side. “What was I even thinking? Why would you even like me like that when I’m just–”
Sungho puts his hands around Dongmin’s face, desperately trying to make the boy look at him. It dawns on him how his whispered word gave Dongmin the wrong idea about how he truly feels. Dongmin seems adamant on not allowing Sungho to see him at that moment, but he eventually gives up and raises his head. His eyes are slightly wet, glimmering under the fluorescent light of his living room. Sungho wants to kiss him so badly, wants to attach their lips together and breathe in Dongmin’s scent until it’s the only air he needs in order to live. He wants to finally turn his deepest and secretive dreams into a reality, especially when Dongmin looks at him like that.
There’s pain, but there’s also an adoration that Sungho never thought he’d see in the younger’s eyes when it comes to him.
“I like you, Dongmin.” Sungho confesses in a whisper, low but confident. Using his real name to show how honest he’s being right now. “I think I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you.”
Dongmin’s eyes widen, blinking stars. “Hyung, do you mean that?”
He nods, bringing their faces close until his lips are a breath away from Dongmin’s. It’s a type of intimacy he never thought he’d get with the boy, a type that leaves him wanting more than he should be asking for. Dongmin exhales shakily, the warm breath coming from his slightly open mouth fanning Sungho’s, making him ache for the warmth that will probably come from those lips. Sungho can no longer wait, craving everything that Dongmin is willing to give him.
Sungho doesn’t ask this time, Dongmin assures him in the way he circles his hands around the older’s nape and finally puts their lips together.
⏮
“How can you like this so much?” Sungho asks, judgingly looking at the noodles Dongmin is slurping onto. It has seafood, an assortment of fish, octopus, clam and shrimp, one of his favorites in the noodle place – Sungho has the feeling that Dongmin only orders this one to annoy him with the strong smell while he tries to eat his plain noodles.
It’s just another Friday for them. Go to the record store and noodle shop next, talk about new releases they liked or something that’s been going on in their lives. They don’t have that much to talk about when it comes to personal matters, one of the downsides of living almost everyday attached to the hip. Sometimes, Sungho talks about his job at his family antiquary, while Dongmin talks about something his father brought with him from his work trips. Their main subject always goes back to the mixtapes, which songs Sungho liked the most, which ones are Dongmin’s favorites, if he liked this one, if he hated this one, if Dongmin can make him another one. From that topic on, bickering mingles around and they spend a whole afternoon together like this.
Dongmin munches on the noodles, gulping down before saying, “Not everyone in the world hates seafood, Pumpkin.”
“It’s kinda cruel, you know?” he comments, chopsticks playing with the remaining noodles inside his pot. “Taking them from their homes only to turn them into a bowl of noodles for a small town wannabe-punk boy.”
“Maybe when you stop eating chicken and pork, then you can lecture me about seafood,” Dongmin says, attention back to his noodles. It’s an endearing sight, the way Dongmin always eats to his heart’s content. One of the many things that makes him look so cute in Sungho’s eyes, that makes him fall more in love – even with the seafood scent clogging his nose and making him grimace.
“So…” Sungho starts, slurping the last noodles from his pot. “What was so important that you had to leave a message with my landlord instead of writing a note and leaving it in my mailbox?”
Dongmin swallows his own, looking back at Sungho with a surprised face. “I almost forgot it!”
“You always do,” he says with a smile, head propped against his hand.
“It’s a good thing that my favorite hyung is always here to remind me,” Dongmin says, equal parts sarcastic and honest. It’s his way of showing that Sungho is important to him, it makes the older feel special. “There’s this party–”
“Taesan-ah, don’t even start,” Sungho interrupts him with a sigh.
There it goes again, Dongmin trying to get him to a party on a Friday like any other person their age would be doing. Sungho isn’t against going to parties per se, he’s not the angsty young adult that hates these types of environments and it’s against socializing; he goes to parties when he’s in the mood, and he’s always down to go with his friends if they ask him. But the problem lies in going to a party hosted by someone that Dongmin knows. It’s not that he hates the people Dongmin walks with, it’s just that their tastes are too different for them to work. While Sungho ventures into a more chill and calm style, Dongmin’s friends are just as chaotic as him. Leathers, spikes and rock music blasting on speakers while they scream and drink cheap beer.
Sungho isn’t looking forward to any of those things, but Dongmin is the one asking him – and therefore, he allows the boy to try coaxing him into accepting.
“It’s going to be cool this time, hyung!” Dongmin assures, draping his hand on the table until it's above Sungho’s. “It’s nothing like the other ones you went to. It’s just a get together, the music won’t be so loud and you know half of the people that will be there.”
He doubts that it’s going to be any of that, but he doesn’t bother pointing that out.
“And the other half of the people?” Sungho asks a little playfully.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says with a flick of his hand, persistent as ever. “The point is that Riwoo himself asked you to go. There will be music and free beer, he even bought your favorite brand. All you have to do is go and just chill.”
“Taesan-ah, don’t get me wrong, but a party hosted by your friends isn’t my idea of chilling on a Friday.” Sungho points out, frowning right next. “And how the hell does Riwoo know my favorite beer brand?”
“I may or may not have given him that bit of information so I could persuade you to go with me,” Dongmin says, a guilty smile appearing on his lips.
Sungho shakes his head, his annoyance not lasting for long because all he can think is how adorable Dongmin looks trying to convince him. “You need to stop doing that. It’s manipulative and probably will get you a free pass to hell.”
“Is it working?” Dongmin asks, looking at him in that cunning way that always gets him whatever he wants – at least, when it comes to Sungho, because he’s a fool in love that can never deny him anything in this world.
“Not at all.” Sungho snorts, pulling his hand away from Dongmin’s. “But you know I can’t say no to a free beer, especially my favorite one.”
⏭
Sungho isn’t ashamed to say that he fantasized about this moment an unhealthy amount of times. He thought about what Dongmin’s lips would feel like ever since he was seventeen and they had one of their nth get together as friends – around the same time that they came out to each other, when Dongmin whispered in a shaky breath that he was gay and Sungho hugged him and said that nothing would change between them, telling him right next that he wasn’t straight either. It was around that time that Sungho realized that the fantasies looming in his head with men from the magazines he kept under his bed were changing to fantasies with Dongmin.
Dongmin kissing him, Dongmin touching him, Dongmin saying sweet words in his ears to get his way, Dongmin being clingy, Dongmin taking him on dates and fucking him in the backseat of his dad’s dark grey Mazda RX07 – shamefully, one of his favorite fantasies, the one that never fails to get him hot and bothered.
Turns out that he won’t have to fantasize about being kissed and touched anymore. Dongmin’s lips are working on him, his calloused hands drawing shapes on the skin of his nape.
It’s slow and tender, a strange concept to Sungho, he has never kissed this way before. This isn’t their first kiss by any means, both already had their share of kisses along high school and college. But none of them can deny the foreign feeling that flares from this simple exchange, how careful and timid they’re treating each other. Sungho’s hands stay positioned around Dongmin’s waist, grip tightening whenever the younger shifts closer to the bulge in his shorts, or nibbles on his lower lip. Dongmin’s hands wander to the soft strands of hair, tugging on the dark locks enough to draw a breathy sigh from Sungho, smiling in between the kiss, swallowing the sweet sounds the older lets out.
Sungho’s hands move down to his hips, hooking on the belt-loops of Dongmin’s black shorts, hands itching to move lower and touch his creamy thighs that have been tempting him ever since he saw Dongmin early in the party. Sungho doesn’t realize until now how much he wanted this until he has it.
The room feels like it’s spinning. Sungho feels dizzy with desire. Everything about Dongmin is hot, from the way he kisses Sungho’s breath away to the way his hands move from his hair to his shoulders, thumbs brushing the exposed skin of his collarbones. Dongmin pushes against the skin a little harder, tongue inside Sungho’s parted lips, low moans leaving from the gap. Dongmin takes his time with him, makes do with the only chance he has to kiss the boy he’s been in love with for the longest of times. Tongue running over teeth and tussling with Sungho’s, making the older beg for more and allow Dongmin to do whatever he wants.
It’s a truth known by everyone that Sungho can never deny Dongmin anything.
Dongmin pulls back a little too fast, a whine escaping Sungho’s lips at the loss of warmth, body moving from the couch to seek Dongmin’s lips again. He feels a tug at the end of his shirt, a silent question that Sungho is too kiss-drunk to pay attention to.
“Hyung,” Dongmin pants, voice sounding stupidly arousing in Sungho’s ears as he keeps his eyes closed, lungs begging for air, body begging for Dongmin. “Take your shirt off.”
⏮
The party officially sucks.
For unknown reasons, Dongmin’s friends have the power to make the worst parties Sungho ever stepped his foot into in all his life. He lingers in the corners of Riwoo’s house, beer bottle in hand while he tries his best to stay away from the blasting speakers and the supposedly half of people he knows. Sungho stands out like a sore thumb, in his light denim jeans and light blue dress shirt; meanwhile, the dress code for the party is exclusively black and leather. The only good thing at the moment is his favorite beer waiting for him in the fridge, and Dongmin sticking to his side ever since they entered the house.
“Taesan-ah, no offense to you or any of your friends, but this party fucking sucks,” Sungho says, feeling the loud music pounding inside his head. If he thought Rise Above was loud in a regular volume, nothing could have prepared him to listen to it inside a basement with the speakers’ volume on maximum and a bunch of voices chanting together.
“I know this isn’t your type of thing,” Dongmin starts sheepishly, looking down at their matching converses. “But I’m truly happy that you’re here, hyung.”
They both know the opinion Dongmin’s friends share about Sungho, something along the lines of him being a boring loser and how Taesan could befriend someone that likes sissy songs. Sungho doesn’t avoid these parties just because it never plays the type of music he likes, but because he doesn’t feel welcome in the slightless. He can count on the fingers of one hand the people around that don't make him feel bad about being himself – and it’s only two, Riwoo and his boyfriend Jaehyun.
Embarrassing as it sounds, another reason why Sungho takes the slander and the bad music is how incredible Dongmin always looks at these stupid parties. An ensemble of black as always, his fallen angel that could do anything he wished with him. T-shirt and leather vest, shorts and the same black converse. A single look makes Sungho’s body get worryingly hot, heart pounding as hard as the drums from the songs.
If he survives this party without doing anything stupid, he’ll consider himself the luckiest guy in town.
“Hyung, do you want another beer?” Dongmin asks, trying to make him more comfortable.
“I’m good,” he says, taking a swig from his half-full bottle. The beer is warm by now, but it’s still drinkable. “If you want, you can get something for yourself.”
Dongmin shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Taesan-ah, I’m not a kid that needs to be supervised all the time.” Sungho snorts, wincing when the music changes to something even louder. “It’s a party, you should be having fun too instead of sticking to my side like a watchdog or something.”
“But I’m having fun,” Dongmin says matter-of-factly. “I want the both of us to have fun tonight.”
“Sometimes you act so clingy,” he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to hide the cuteness aggression he feels inside. Clingy Dongmin isn’t a common thing, Sungho learned to cherish each of these moments secretly. He puts a hand on Dongmin’s shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly. “Go get yourself some booze, you look silly standing next to me without a cup in your hand. I’ll still be here when you come back, and we’ll keep having fun.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, you big baby.” Sungho ruffles his hair affectionately. “Now, go.”
“Stay right where you are, hyung. I’ll be right back,” Dongmin states, taking a little too long to turn on his back and leave to the kitchen.
Sometimes Sungho wonders if Dongmin even realizes the things he makes him feel, how much Sungho wants him more and more whenever he acts this way, how much of his boyfriend-like acts makes foolish hope bloom inside Sungho.
⏭
He wouldn’t say he’s desperate to have Dongmin’s hands on him, but the way he lets out a pitiful sound from the back of his throat at the prospect of Dongmin undressing him makes it more than clear how he’s eager for whatever will happen.
Dongmin chuckles boyishly, taking his time with all the buttons in Sungho’s dress shirt. Honestly, he was expecting Dongmin to be a little more impatient in this, the same way he gets whenever he wants something, but he’s strangely calm as he handles each button with skilled fingers. His face is up close, Sungho can almost count all his eyelashes, seeing all the colors in his eyes. Brown like chocolate, a speck of yellows and greens scattered around. He can see a faint pink hue in his cheeks too, and how that makes him more adorable.
“Cute,” he breathes out, only noticing what he said when Dongmin looks back at him, blinking in confusion.
“You think I’m cute?”
“I do,” Sungho says in a low whisper, looking away in embarrassment at his admission.
“You’re the cute one, hyung.” Dongmin leaves a peck on his nose, and Sungho blushes scarlet from the adoration that floods him from that meaningless act. Their chests rise and fall quickly, the heat never leaving the place around. Dongmin’s apartment feels like a sauna, but Sungho isn’t complaining. He’d rather melt in the younger’s arms than go back to not feeling this warmth.
Dongmin takes off the last button, pushing the dress shirt from Sungho’s shoulders with a smooth motion. Sungho isn’t one to feel ashamed of his body, he takes pride in the times he spent on the gym working out, but something about the way Dongmin looks at him makes him a little self aware of how different the glint in his eyes are from a lust-filled check-out. Dongmin looks as if Sungho is something precious, a thing to be cherished and handled with care, that deserves to be adored with all his heart. Sungho isn’t used to that, his hands quickly splayed across his chest and looking anywhere but the boy above him.
“Don’t hide,” Dongmin says, hands above Sungho’s as he slowly pulls it away. His eyes wander through the expanse of Sungho’s torso, drinking in all the unblemished and soft skin waiting for him. He drags a finger along the skin, a path that goes from the chest to the button of his jeans, a choked wheeze leaving him. Dongmin puts his hands around Sungho’s face and moves until they’re looking at each other. “I think I’m in love with you. No, scratch that. I’m really in love with you, Sungho-hyung.”
Sungho can’t run away this time, he doesn’t think he would be able to either. His breath catches in his throat, eyes stuck in whatever spell Dongmin is casting with his own. Sungho never thought he’d listen to such words coming from the younger, other than in his dreams and fantasies. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, frightening, to have someone claiming their love to you while looking straight into your eyes. Sungho wants and wants, and he knows he can have everything because Dongmin is more than willing to give it to him.
Sungho wants Dongmin, and he can have him now.
He can’t bring the confession to come out of his lips, so he puts his feelings into actions rather than words. Hands going back to Dongmin’s small waist, he invites the younger back to his mouth so he can pour all his feelings into him. Sungho is the one that leads the kiss this time, sucking on his tongue with fervor as a moan rises from him. He can feel Dongmin getting harder, his bulge brushing against his, hands itching to touch him more until Dongmin can get how much Sungho wants him – not only sexually, but romantic feelings can come later.
That’s what Sungho decides to do, no more openings for hesitance.
Hands caress Dongmin’s sides under his shirt and vest, the skin soft and warm under his fingers, making him moan only from the feeling of it. Dongmin shudders, hips rocking lightly, erections brushing against one another until they’re both pulling away from the kiss to groan and sigh. Sungho’s hands fall to Dongmin’s thighs, groping the supple skin hard enough to leave fingerprints on it, a proof that what they’re doing is real. Dongmin whines deliciously from the touch, hot breath fanning against Sungho’s neck. Dongmin pushes his hips forward as one of the hands moves to the button of his shirts, a silent affirmation that Sungho can take them off.
It’s a weird situation to be in such a position with his best friend, even if both of them are equally in love and stupidly pining for each other for what feels like ages. His brain still can’t comprehend that Dongmin can be his, that Dongmin will probably make his fantasies come true – such a shame that it’ll happen in the old couch in his shitty apartment, but the backseat of his dad’s can come later if things work out between them. Sungho undoes the buttons with slightly shaky hands, pulling the zipper down but not taking the shorts entirely off. He slips a hand inside the fabric, cupping Dongmin’s erection, the loudest moan coming from his swollen lips.
The sound spurs Sungho into pushing the fabric down, Dongmin aiding him by lifting up and shrugging the clothing off before going back to Sungho’s lap. It’s suffocating to have Dongmin’s thighs on display like that, having him rut against him while they’re both still too dressed. Dongmin goes straight back to kissing, sloppy and eager as Sungho brings his hand to the tent in his boxers, swallowing the moans and breathy sighs that come out of him. All the sounds go straight to his dick, his growing problem not going unnoticed by the boy above him.
“Hyung, I think we’re too dressed for the occasion,” Dongmin says against his mouth, words muffled and barely audible.
“Taesan,” he calls breathless, hands going to the vest still covering his shoulders. “Take off your clothes.”
⏮
“Sungho-hyung!” Myung Jaehyun slurs as he almost throws himself on Sungho, tripping on his own feet. It’s a worrying sight, to have a gangly and overly-excited puppy-like human on the brink of falling to the ground and taking someone with him. There’s an empty plastic cup on his hand and Jaehyun sips from it without noticing there’s nothing inside. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s completely out of it – and probably has been since the beginning of the party.
“Hey, Jaehyun.” Sungho greets, grimacing as the stench of alcohol lingers on the boy. ”Having fun?”
“Hell yeah!” Jaehyun laughs, shoving his arms up in sheer excitement. “I love parties like this!”
Sungho wonders what a party like this means to Jaehyun because as far as he remembers, this one looks exactly the same as all the others Dongmin begged him to come in the past. Perhaps being pissed-drunk, the stuffy basement feels like an entirely different place. Sungho isn’t akin to proving if the theory is right or not tonight.
“Where’s Taesanie?” Jaehyun asks, looking around and almost getting dizzy from moving too fast for his inebriated body. “You guys are always together, I thought he would be here too.”
“He’s taking some booze,” Sungho says, one hand resting on top of Jaehyun’s shoulder to keep him in place, he looks strangely like he’s about to pass out from the drunken leisure in his movements.
“Getting some liquid courage to talk to you, I see.” Jaehyun giggles mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows as he breathes out a little too close to Sungho’s face, a waft of alcohol breath making his nose twitch.
Sungho frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know, hyung?” Jaehyun blinks one eye at a time, a perpetual goofy smile on his lips.
“Know what?”
“Jaehyun-hyung?” Dongmin’s voice blasts in the space between them, sounding almost at the same volume as the heavy music blasting on the speakers. He’s holding the same blue plastic cup Jaehyun has, the liquid sloshing inside. Dongmin doesn’t look drunk, at least not as much as Jaehyun – but Sungho doubts anyone would look like him this sooner in the party. “Yah, he’s fucking out of it.”
“You tell me.” Sungho huffs, taking his hand off the younger’s shoulder right on time. Jaehyun drapes himself against Dongmin’s body, almost making him spill whatever he poured inside his cup.
“Taesanie, I can’t believe you didn’t tell anything to Sungho-hyung,” Jaehyun whines, lazily pointing a finger in Sungho’s direction.
“He keeps talking about something you should tell me, but I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about,” he comments, wary about the way Dongmin’s eyes go wide and his face takes on a faint blush, but he decides to brush it off as the alcohol. Dongmin probably took a few shots before coming back, and even though his friends are terrible at making parties, they mastered the fine art of making concoctions that could make someone go drunk in less than fifteen minutes. “Jaehyun-ah, what are you talking about?”
“You’re so fucking dumb, both of you.” Jaehyun laughs, hiccuping before getting even more in Dongmin’s personal space and saying, “Taesanie, why haven’t you told Sungho-hyung that you want to blow him?”
In an almost comical situation, the song volume goes lower for reasons unknown and Sungho hears the words loud and clear, almost as if Jaehyun said them directly into his ears. He freezes on the spot, mimicking Dongmin’s reaction. They stare at each other with wide eyes, mouths closed shut and a rollercoaster of emotions happening inside. Jaehyun’s drunken stupor seems to vanish for a second as he realizes the bomb he dropped in Riwoo’s basement.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers as he straightens, his eyes going equally wide as he stares at the two shocked boys.
Fuck indeed , Sungho thinks.
⏭
Sungho has seen Dongmin naked a hundred times before. Shirtless on summer days when they swim in the public pool, pantless when he wakes up late for their get-together and Sungho has to pull him out of bed, in his boxers in the few sleepovers they had because Dongmin gets hot during his sleep and hates wearing clothes. But those times are nothing compared to the nakedness he’s seeing now, in the context they are in.
The naked Dongmin in front of him isn’t playful or innocent, he’s lustful in a way that only demons can be. His eyes gleam in mirth as he takes in the slight shakiness of Sungho’s hands as the older takes the rest of his clothes out. His leather vest first, leaving Dongmin in the black dress shirt and the choker in his neck.
Sungho bites down on his lips, hands working steadily on the black buttons, one at a time, the hard work before getting his reward. Dongmin keeps his eyes on him, equally anxious as the cold air from the broken window gushes inside, hitting his hot skin and having him bite on his lips to prevent a whimper from coming out. Sungho pushes the fabric off, fingers brushing featherly against the tempting exposed collarbones. Unblemished, his mouth waters to leave colors in them, marks that only them will know about when the sun rises.
“Go on, hyung.” Dongmin assures him, shifting on his lap again. “Mark me up as much as you want. I know you like it.”
“How do you know that?” Sungho asks, breathing becoming something difficult as his face inches forward to the skin, a moth to a flame.
“I saw you leaving a hickey on Haewon-noona’s neck once,” he replies shyly, almost as if confessing an embarrassing secret. “She also told me that you like that. Please don’t ask me why I asked her about that.”
“I don’t care, but do you like that?” Sungho quickly changes the subject, not really in the mood to talk about one of his past flings when he has the boy of his dreams in his lap, about to leave hickeys and love bites on his creamy skin. “Do you want it, Taesanie?”
“Yeah,” he gasps, a little breathless. “I want you to mark me, hyung.”
Sungho nearly faints on the spot after hearing that, mind going haywire as his hands circle around Dongmin’s back, pulling him closer to his mouth. Lips meet soft flesh and sharp bones, pressing open-mouthed kisses, licking and nipping teasingly and sucking harshly. Dongmin grunts, hands flying to Sungho’s locks and pulling at it like he did before. Sungho feels in heaven, doing something that he likes with the boy that he’s head over heels for, leaving his claim on him so everyone can know that Dongmin belongs to him – even if he doesn’t, at least yet .
Dongmin pulls on the strands with a whine, not giving time for the older to take a look at his masterpiece, attaching their lips together, tongues welcoming one another in hunger. Dongmin’s hands wander down to the button of Sungho’s jeans, fumbling with it until he pops it open, shoving his hand inside and cupping the hardness, delighted by the gasp that leaves Sungho. They’re both painfully hard, and they know where all this is going to lead.
“Hyung, have you…?” Dongmin trails off between their mouths, hand moving up and down slowly against Sungho’s hard-on.
“No,” he coughs out, mind grasping at anything in order to not lose himself. “You?”
Dongmin shakes his head, swallowing dry. “Do you want to?”
“Yeah,” Sungho replies. “If it’s with you.”
“Great, because I want it too,” he says matter-of-factly, briefly leaving Sungho’s lap so he can unzip his jeans and squirm out of it.
Dongmin is back to straddling him right next, hips jutted together and bulges touching. Sungho is back to circling his arms around his body, hands sliding up and down on his sides and spine, shivers running down through both bodies. Dongmin arches and their lengths rub, an electrifying sensation going through them. There’s no going back from this point on, and as much as Sungho wishes to backpedal and maybe talk about their feelings instead of acting purely on his horny thoughts, his mind cannot hold the pleasure and desire brewing in him.
He needs Dongmin, in every way possible.
⏸
It’s necessary to point out that until that moment, Sungho only had suspicions that Dongmin felt something for him. He brushed all that off as his delusional mind feeding him with hopes in order to not face a possible heartbreak. To have Dongmin pushing his glass into Jaehyun’s hand and picking Sungho by the wrist, dragging him out of Riwoo’s stuffy basement after that indirect confession. Everything seems to be happening in slow-motion, too much for Sungho’s brain to grasp into.
“Fuck, that’s not how this was supposed to happen.” Dongmin worries under his breath, pulling at his hair once they’re outside of the house.
The sky is turning into something gray and scary, way earlier than Sungho thought it was. It’s going to rain at any moment, and he doesn’t want to get caught and wet his nice clothes and shoes.
“Taesan, I–”
“Hyung, I’m so sorry.” Dongmin is fast to say, turning back to look at Sungho with his apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t how– I don’t even know why Jaehyun-hyung said that, I–”
“Dongmin, I don’t want to talk about this here,” Sungho cuts him off, sounding too cold compared to how he usually talks to Dongmin, the lack of his nickname also making things worse. Sungho is so confused, his mind not functioning properly after receiving that punch of hope on his guts. “It’s going to rain.”
Dongmin frowns at the sudden change of topic. “Sungho-hyung?”
“I don’t want to get caught in the rain,” he continues, looking at Dongmin. “Take me home.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Dongmin nods, a little confused and still frozen in the same place. Any other occasion, he wouldn’t hesitate to pick Sungho’s hand and guide him to their destination. Tonight, Dongmin keeps his hand inside his pockets, unsure if Sungho wants to be touched after his feelings are brought to the table. “I’ll take you to your house, hyung.”
“No, Taesan.” Sungho shakes his head, taking the lead and shoving his own hand inside Dongmin’s pocket, pushing it out and clasping their hands together. “I want to go to your house.”
⏭
“I really want to blow you,” Dongmin says. “Jaehyun-hyung wasn’t joking when he said that.”
Sungho wants to laugh at the crude way Dongmin talks about it. A few hours ago, both of them were frozen on the spot as the words left Jaehyun’s mouth, only for Dongmin to speak freely and confidently about it now. Knees and legs around Sungho’s legs, moving from to back lazily as he keeps both of them on edge, never really going anywhere. Sungho is getting a little impatient, wishing for Dongmin to shut up and do whatever he wants to with him.
“I thought it was just for the sake of saying it,” Sungho comments, closing his eyes tight when Dongmin rocks his hips harder. “Most things that come out of Jaehyun’s mouth are bullshit.”
Dongmin gasps softly. “I’m very serious when it comes to blowjobs, hyung.”
“Stop being shameless,” Sungho complains, feeling the urge to cover his face at the way Dongmin keeps talking. Sure, it’s nothing new for them to talk about sex but something about being on the receiving end of such shamelessness makes Sungho feel a little shy.
“Let me suck you off, please?” Dongmin pleads prettily, eyes blinking fairy-like.
As much as getting a blowjob from Dongmin sounds nice, Sungho doesn’t want that for tonight. He doesn’t want Dongmin to go away, doesn’t want the warmth to leave him so soon, doesn’t want a single second where reality will catch up to him and make him hesitate. He wants Dongmin to be close, to stay right where he is, at hands’ and lips’ reach. He wants to be even more close, if it’s possible. It’s a tempting offer, but Sungho already has something else in mind.
Besides, with how on edge he is, he doubts that he won’t come as soon as Dongmin’s mouth breathes close to his cock. Sungho would rather not embarrass himself on his first time with the guy he has fantasized doing this so many times. The blowjob can wait for another day – or later, they have a lot of time together until the sun rises.
“I have another idea.” Sungho hums.
He pulls Dongmin’s length free from his boxers, taking his own and placing both against each other, enclosing with his hand as he strokes them slow and steady. Dongmin’s length is only a little girthy compared to his, and his mouth waters and head goes fuzzy at the possibility of maybe having it inside him someday.
“Fuck, hyung,” Dongmin groans in relief, throwing his head back in pleasure.
Sungho feels the way Dongmin rolls his hips slightly, fucking himself up into the hand and length close to his, the sensation making both lose their surroundings. The rain keeps falling outside, the broken window keeps letting water splatter inside, Sungho and Dongmin are too lost in themselves and the pleasure to care about anything else. The friction from the movements leave both on edge again, stomachs tightening and release getting closer than expected.
“Hyung, I–” Dongmin gasps, words dying before he can finish, lips turning into a perfect round shape, a loud and drawl out moan coming out as he spills out between them, coating Sungho’s belly and hands with his cum.
Sungho comes right next, moaning louder than Dongmin and closing his eyes shut. The pleasure turns out to be too overwhelming for him, his whole body shaking under Dongmin as they ride their orgasms. Soft whimpers fill the quiet living room, mingling together until it becomes the same sound. Two hearts beating in sync, spent bodies tangled together while slouching in the second-hand couch, low giggles subsiding the whimpers once both of them come back to their senses.
It’s silent for a moment, the weight of what just happened finally getting on their backs.
Sungho just kissed his best friend and jerked him off, he just said he loves Dongmin since the moment he saw him, he just fulfilled one of the many fantasies he had with his best friend. There’s no way to hide and no way to deny all of this, the looks, the touches, the adoration floating around the room. Sungho doesn’t dare looking at Dongmin, taking deep breaths as he chooses to stare at his dirty hand still around their softening dicks. He lets go abruptly, a soft whine reaching his ears at the loss of contact. Dongmin opens his eyes and Sungho makes the mistake of looking at them.
Dongmin is glowing, like gold at the bottom of a dark lake. His hair is all over the place, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, his lips kiss-swollen and red like a blossoming rose, neck and chest filled with splotches of the colors Sungho left. In Dongmin’s eyes, a million stars that leave him breathless. Sungho regrets looking in the first place, because a shy smile appears on Dongmin’s lips and he can see how much the younger is bursting with love for him, no need for words to be professed about it.
“Did you enjoy it, hyung?” Dongmin asks, hiding his face in Sungho’s neck, nuzzling him like a cat.
“Yes,” he hums, unable to bring himself to say anything else.
Sungho wishes he could say that this was one of the best handjobs he ever got, even if he was the one doing all the work. But it’s already embarrassing on its own, and he has the feeling that post-orgasm Dongmin will go back to being the shy one he came to know. He puts his clean hand back on Dongmin’s hips, rubbing circles into the skin and almost melting as the younger purrs in contentment.
“It feels embarrassing to say this, but I feel like I need to say it so you don’t get the wrong idea,” Dongmin says in a muffled tone, his exhales tickling Sungho. In the silence of the living room, his words feel like a secret meant only for Sungho to hear. “I don’t want to just fool around with you. I meant it when I said I love you, I’ve been saying it for the longest of times through the mixtapes. Not the most direct, but I couldn’t bring myself to confess.”
“I knew they weren’t only song recommendations anymore for quite some time, Taesan,” Sungho says, the awkwardness and hesitation slipping out of him. There’s no reason for him to be feeling this way. The boy above him isn’t a stranger, that’s his best friend – that’s the boy he’s in love with, the boy that loves him back. “You weren’t that smooth by putting Can’t Smile Without You in the last one.”
“That’s so embarrassing, hyung. You should’ve told me something,” he whines, his lips turning into a pout that Sungho feels on his neck like a kiss. “I thought you didn’t take the hints, but I guess I wasn’t looking close enough.”
“Yeah, you weren’t,” Sungho chuckles, squeezing Dongmin’s waist. “But none of it matters now. We’re here now.”
Dongmin pulls back, cheeks faintly blushed and eyes gleaming under the light. His hands find a place around Sungho’s face, thumbs caressing the smooth skin of his cheeks. For someone that claims to be embarrassed about saying and showing affection, Dongmin seems to be unabashed about how much he wants Sungho to understand what he feels. As he looks at the younger, all he can see is love in a shape that he never thought he would see coming from Dongmin – and not because he’s unable to show it, but because Sungho never expected to be on the receiving end of it.
“Wanna go on a date with me?”
“Right now?”
“Not right now, hyung.” Dongmin rolls his eyes affectionately. “Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I want more kisses from you.”
“Only kisses?” Sungho blinks innocently at him, and Dongmin laughs so adorably that his heart pounds faster inside his ribs.
“Maybe something more.” Dongmin wiggles his eyebrows, but his cheeks take on a stronger shade of pink out of embarrassment. “We gotta clean first. Dry cum doesn’t feel as sexy as porn makes it look.”
Sungho laughs at that, throwing his head back and taking a second to grasp at his new reality. Dongmin is his, and sure there won’t be a label on it this soon but both acknowledge their feelings for each other and are aware of it. Sungho stays in the same position on the couch even after Dongmin goes to the bathroom, pushing the play button of his radio. Top Of The World fills up the silent apartment, and Sungho feels like this is the best day of his whole life.