Chapter Text
When Jackson Wang had extended the invite to his annual Halloween party, Kihyun hadn’t really thought much of it other than cool. Jackson’s parties were legendary, the talk of the school – and often the town – in the week or so following the event, and while Kihyun had never gone before, often too busy studying for some class, or jury, or another, the fact that Jackson had pointed invited him this time made him a little more compelled to attend this year. Granted, that compulsion might also have something to do with the way Minhyuk’s eyes had lit up when describing how Jackson had asked him following a dance practice, and the way Jooheon had grinned like madman when recounting the previous year’s shenanigans.
And it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. As juniors in college, Kihyun and Minhyuk were both too busy with their projects and classes to focus on having a social life. Kihyun was a music major, emphasis on both voice and piano, and between a myriad of classes, practices for his junior recital and for other recitals he guest appears at, and his few extracurricular activities, Kihyun had no time for an active social life. Besides, he saw the music and theater students often enough, and that was enough for him.
Minhyuk, on the other hand, was double majoring in theater and dance, and save for the few classes he and Kihyun shared each day, Kihyun only ever saw Minhyuk at dinner and when they were both returning to their shared room for the night. By eight in the morning when Kihyun would be rolling over to swat as the alarm meant to get him out of bed for his music history class, Minhyuk would be gone for the day
Jooheon, as a sophomore, was something of an anomaly, having figured out how to balance academics, a social life, and sleep. Secretly, Kihyun believed that Jooheon had somehow either figured out the secret to living on two hours of sleep each night, or he was a vampire. Only the fact that Jooheon thrived on sunlight swayed Kihyun away from favoring the latter option. He, too, was a music major, focusing on composition and lyric production. If he had his way, he’d graduate and go to work for some top notch entertainment company or another.
And Changkyun, precious Changkyun, was still just a freshman, capable of balancing academics, sleep, an active social life, and a number of extracurriculars and clubs, all without feeling the oppressive weight of too-much-to-do-no-time-to-do-it. It probably helped that he was undecided and only taking gen eds and a couple basic music courses, but it wouldn’t help for long.
As a savvy college student and the resident mother of the four of them, the approach of Halloween had been Kihyun’s time to step up and let them know that trick-or-treating was no longer an accepted past-time. Minhyuk had been unbothered, having worked through Halloween the year before. Jooheon and Changkyun, however, still children at heart, had been devastated, even with Kihyun’s promise to buy them a bucket full of candy on the first of November to make up for it.
The fact that they’d brightened so considerably at Jackson’s request meant Kihyun couldn’t not go, if only to keep an eye on them both. Now, though…. Now Kihyun might regret it a little bit. Or a lot.
“Holy shit,” Changkyun breathes as the four of them stop outside the gates of what can only be described as a mansion. And it is a mansion, complete with a winding drive, sprawling lawn and gardens, and so many windows on this side of the house that it probably takes days to wash them all.
“Jooheon.” Kihyun glances sideways at his friend, eyebrow arching. “What was it that Jackson’s parents do for a living?”
Jooheon can’t tear his eyes away from the house for a moment, staring in mute surprise. “Uh. Government work, I think. A higher government.”
Changkyun is the first to speak after that, voice a startled squawk. “His parents are spies?”
Kihyun sighs, raking a hand through his hair. He winces when Minhyuk smacks him, lips set in a frown. “I just styled that! You’re supposed to look like a hot angel, not like a mental patient with wings.” Kihyun frowns, raking a hand through his hair once more, just to piss Minhyuk off, then dances out of reach with a laugh when Minhyuk swats at him again. Their antics are enough to put Jooheon and Changkyun back at some sort of ease, and with Jooheon leading the way – chased by Minhyuk for the way he’d tousled the blond’s styled locks – they head up the driveway.
Five minutes later finds Kihyun with a beer and without three friends. As soon as they’d entered the house, Jackson had greeted them, then whisked Jooheon away to look at the system the DJ was using. Minhyuk had disappeared soon after, making a beeline for the room where the bass pulsed the loudest. He’s still visible through the doorway, his shock of blond hair and dark blue hoodie making him easy to see even among the many bodies. Changkyun had slipped away from Kihyun’s side soon after, going in search of something non-alcoholic and what looked like one of his friends from class. It leaves Kihyun alone, but he finds that he doesn’t mind, slipping into the kitchen for a drink and to listen to conversation without the music drowning it all out.
He recognizes some of the people hanging in the kitchen – a girl from his Music History course, a girl and guy from his choir class, another girl from his piano course – and before too long, Kihyun finds himself drawn into their discussion of movie and tv show soundtracks and which one is the best.
Kihyun is in the middle of an increasingly heated argument on the topic of instrumental soundtracks and studying when the weight of an arm drapes around his shoulders. Assuming that Jooheon had been released from Jackson’s conversation or that Changkyun had become worried when he hadn’t made an appearance in another room, Kihyun doesn’t bother to brush it away, focusing on the topic at hand.
“The concept behind instrumental music is that it gives sustenance to the scene in question, building the tension or helping to direct attention to the focus moment. It’s better in this regard than something with lyrics to it because lyrics can draw away from the focus while something instrumental isn’t as likely to. For example, when Character B finds out that Character J and Character C are in an incestuous relationship and Character C is also married.”
The person at his side stiffens, then releases a breathy hah of laughter. Then there are lips at his ear, and if Kihyun weren’t so intent on his topic, he might have jumped. “Did you just reference Game of Thrones?”
“Maybe.”
They’re quiet for a moment, but then the lips are back, pressed to the shell of his ear, and Kihyun’s lips purse because it’s enough to tell him that this is probably Changkyun, because the little shit has no respect for Kihyun’s personal boundaries while both Jooheon and Minhyuk know he’s not afraid to smack them away for being too close and touchy. It’s only Changkyun that manages to pout and whine his way out of the dubious honor.
“I didn’t think that scene had music to it. It’s been a while since I watched, though. I might be wrong. Maybe you should come back to my place, watch it with me?”
It’s a combination of the words and the voice itself that finally has Kihyun turning, exasperation written on his features. “Changkyun, we practically live together. And you hate Game of—”
It’s not Changkyun.
It’s not anyone Kihyun knows.
As far as men go, he’s pretty. Hair blond that’s been messily styled with distinct care. Pale skin that looks like it hasn’t seen sunlight in months. Straight nose. Full lips pulled back into a grin that begs trouble. He’s pretty. Very pretty. And completely Kihyun’s type.
If he had a type.
Yoo Kihyun does not have a type.
“Holy shit! Where the hell you come from?”
There’s another low laugh, and Kihyun can’t even begin to fathom what’d he’d said that was funny. “Not so much. I thought angels couldn’t swear.”
Kihyun blinks, dumbstruck. “What?”
The male at his side is still grinning, a grin that’s somehow all teeth and sly intentions. “You’re an angel, right?” A pale hand reaches out, slender fingers tugging on one of the feathered appendages that are currently strapped to Kihyun’s back. He’d forgotten all about them, and it shows. The grin widens. “I thought angels couldn’t swear.”
Kihyun’s at a loss, and the thought of asking for help from a classmate comes to him, but when he glances to the side, they’ve continued on with the conversation without him. The only one paying them any mind is the girl from his music history course, and all she does when he meets her eyes is grin. Traitor.
A warm hand at his cheek turns his attention back to the stranger, and Kihyun damns the heat that rises to his cheeks, trying to cover it with a frown. “I’m not actually an angel. I would make a horrible angel. It’s just a costume for the party.”
The smile drops, but only slightly. There’s something off about it now, like the stranger knows something Kihyun doesn’t, like he knows something sad, something disheartening, and he’s only just able to keep it to himself.
“You would be an incredible angel.”
***
It takes Kihyun a moment to free himself from the weight of the stranger’s arm. It also takes him a moment to walk away. These are moments Kihyun later denies existed at all as he slips out of the kitchen, a new beer in hand, and heads into the living room. It only takes a couple minutes to find Jooheon and Changkyun. The two of them had managed to somehow find fruit juice – probably from Jackson himself, a hidden personal stash kept from the party at large – and had taken over one of the couches to talk music and play games. The cards for Cards Against Humanity sit in stacks in front of them and half a dozen others, and Kihyun takes long enough to survey the scene and make sure the two are doing fine before moving on in search of Minhyuk.
It takes ten minutes of searching every room on the lower level, including the kitchen he’d just vacated, before Kihyun returns to where Jooheon and Changkyun are still playing.
“Where’s Min?”
Jooheon glances up first, expression scrunching. “What?”
“Minhyuk,” Kihyun clarifies, pushing a hand back through his hair. “My roommate. Your hallmate. Your best friend. Where is Minhyuk?”
Jooheon stands, and when he can’t see enough, he steps up onto the couch. The players around him duck away and cover their hands, laughing, but Jooheon pays them little mind, caught on the mission at hand. Eventually, he steps down, shooting Kihyun a guilty look. “I don’t see him. Earlier he was dancing with these two guys. These were enjoying themselves, so I figured he’d be fine.” Jooheon looks guilty. So guilty. And Kihyun sighs, shaking his head.
“I’ll find him,” he murmurs. “Sit down. Play your game.”
When Kihyun turns away, he finds himself face to face with the pretty stranger from the kitchen. The one that he’s most definitely not attracted to and the one is zero percent his type.
That smile is still there, the one that’s a little bit sad and a little bit knowing and a little bit regretful. He offers a hand in invitation, and Kihyun eyes it warily before lifting his head to meet ice blue eyes. Vaguely, the though idle and detached, Kihyun wonders why he hadn't noticed the color of them before.
“I know where your friend is. The one with white hair.”
If this is help, Kihyun is reluctant to take it. But Minhyuk is his friend, and while he might be older, he acts like a child at every possibility. He’s Kihyun’s responsibility, which means finding him sooner rather than later is high on Kihyun’s list of priorities. When boiled down like that, Kihyun doesn't hesitate.
“Fine.”
Kihyun takes the offered hand, trying to ignore the way the stranger beams at him, all teeth and gums, overwhelmingly unattractive and definitely not Kihyun’s type. At all.
“Wonho.”
“What?” Kihyun glances at his face, not having realized he’d glanced away to scour the crowd for Minhyuk’s shock of white hair. You would think spotting a drunk Jack Frost in a crowd of drunk college students would be easy, but it's not.
“My name.” There’s something strangely expectant in the male’s eyes, like maybe he thinks something stupendous will happen. “My name is Wonho.”
“Kihyun.” When that sad smile returns -- and that’s what it is, Kihyun knows that now, he can see the sadness in Wonho’s eyes and in the weakened twist of his lips, and it somehow hurts him inside to witness -- Kihyun turns away, back to eyeing the floor and trying to figure out where Minhyuk might have gone.
He almost doesn’t catch Wonho’s muted I know. Almost. But Kihyun doesn’t mention it, either, allowing Wonho to pull him in the direction of the stairs to the second floor.
The noise of the party eases considerably as they ascend, and from this vantage point, Kihyun has a much better view of the living room floor. But Minhyuk still isn't there. Kihyun turns to Wonho, a protest on the tip of his tongue but it dies when he sees Wonho shake his head. The blond locks fall into his eye as he does so, and Kihyun has to resist the strange urge to brush them away.
“He was dancing with two of my friends earlier. I may not know him, but I know them, and if they’re not down here…”
Oh. And Kihyun suddenly gets it. Just as sudden is the flush that burns into his cheeks, the one that has Wonho reaching out to him with pale fingers. A thumb drags over his cheek, slow and almost marveling, and Kihyun stares blankly at Wonho, caught in a strange place between confused and awestruck. Wonho, it seems, is caught there, too.
For a moment, nothing else exists. Nothing but Wonho’s thumb on the rise of Kihyun’s cheek, the heat between their bodies, and the way Wonho looks at him as if blinking will cause him and this moment to disappear.
And then the moment is broken, shattered when a drunk couple stumble down the stairs, nearly pushing Kihyun down with them until a timely tug from Wonho yanks him back up. Their bodies collide, Kihyun’s pressing his into the railing, but Wonho doesn't seem to mind as his arms snake around Kihyun’s waist and drag him close.
“Ki,” he breathes, voice soft and alarmed, and Kihyun can't help the way he leans in. Thinking has become difficult, and it becomes much more so when his eyes fall to Wonho’s lips. They sit there innocuously, pretty and pink, twitching like they're meant to shift into a smile, and Kihyun is struck with the thought that as soft as they look, he'd like to test their merit before making any conclusions. Just one kiss is all he needs. Maybe two.
The temptation of the thought is bad enough, but when Kihyun finds himself face to face with Wonho, face to face with the prospect of a kiss, his attention and focus unravels. The temptation is bad enough on its own, but when faced with a possibility, a probability, then the temptation, oh the temptation...
“We’re looking for Minhyuk, right?”
Wonho’s voice cuts through Kihyun’s thoughts like a knife through butter, and he stares muzzily at Wonho for a long moment, unable to decipher what he means, unable to recall who Minhyuk is and why he’s looking for him when Wonho is right here, right in front of him, and looking oh so kissable.
And Wonho seems to know it, because he pushes Kihyun away a moment, that sad, knowing smile in place, and gestures up the stairs. “Come on, Kihyun. You’re worried for your friend, right?” When Wonho turns away, taking the vision of his lips with him, Kihyun’s head begins to clear. Slowly. And when Wonho starts up the stairs again, his hand still warm around the one he holds, Kihyun’s head continues to clear, and he begins to think as he follows.
“Who is he with?”
The words are slow, cracked around the edges and faltering, and Wonho’s hands squeezes his in a manner that Kihyun thinks is meant to be reassuring. It is. Kind of.
“My friends. We came to the party together. Last I saw them, they were dancing together.” Wonho stops at the top of the landing to the second floor, peering down one hallway, and then another. He heads off down the second, humming idly beneath his breath. Kihyun has to hurry to keep up, even with their hands clasped.
“I’ve never seen you on campus before.”
Wonho shakes his head. “We know the family. My family and Kayee’s -- Jackson’s -- are old friends.”
“Oh.” Kihyun thinks back to the conversation he’d had with Jooheon, Changkyun, and Minhyuk outside. He tries to imagine Wonho’s parents as spies, and somehow... Somehow he just can’t do it.
Wonho stops outside of a door, rapping on it with the knuckles of his free hand. “Hyungwon, Hyunwoo?”
There’s silence inside, then the low murmur of conversation. The door opens, and Kihyun nearly chokes he sees that the male on the other side is nude. Gloriously, unequivocally nude. And while Kihyun has the decency to avert his eyes, all Wonho does is sigh.
“Hyunwoo, what have I told you about answering the door naked?”
Hyunwoo, the stranger at the door that has a body like a brick shit house, grins and leans against the door frame, one arm extended over his head. When Kihyun glances around him, he can see two bodies sprawled across the bed. Save for a thin sheet that covers them both at the waist, they, too are naked. And from the white hair of one of the bodies, the one face-down in a pillow, arm thrown over the chest of the other stranger that watches them from half-open eyes, Kihyun can see that Minhyuk is inside.
“So you found him?”
The unfamiliar voice has Kihyun’s attention snapping back, and his eyes shift to meet Hyunwoo’s. It’s easy to see he’s the one being spoken of. And from the tension in Wonho’s shoulders, he knows it, too.
“Yes. He’s looking for his friend. The one you took to bed.”
Hyunwoo sighs, turning to glance over his shoulder. “He was rather fun to play with. Are you sure we can’t keep him a little while longer?”
“Minhyuk is going home,” Kihyun says then, stepping around Wonho and squaring off against the one that blocks his way. Hyunwoo is taller, but not by much. “Minhyuk and I are both going home. He has a class in the morning and at least ten hours of painting and set work remaining on his one act play. And I’m going to make sure he gets home.”
Hyunwoo leans down until they’re eye level, and Kihyun can feel the way Wonho stiffens, the way his grip tightens, and he can see how the stranger in the bed sits up a little, the sheet pooling in his lap. For a moment, everything is silent, and form the floor below, Kihyun can hear the distant pulsing beat of the music. The tension between them is palpable, and just as Kihyun feels Wonho stepping forward, Hyunwoo smiles. “Alright. We had our fun. Give us a minute to get dressed. It’s probably against party etiquette to go back downstairs naked. Not much of a costume, right? Although I am quite sure the girls would enjoy it...”
Kihyun frowns, stepping back. “Right.”
And with that agreement, Hyunwoo steps back and the door closes. Beyond it, Kihyun can hear the low murmur of conversation and the rustling of the sheets and clothing.
When Wonho tugs on his hand, Kihyun turns to eye him. “What?” He doesn’t meet for his voice to be so crisp, but it is regardless, and he can see the way Wonho flinches, the way the pride in his eyes dims.
“I-- ...nothing.”
Kihyun thinks about calling him on it, but then the door is opening. The stranger from the bed holds a groggy Minhyuk out to him, and Kihyun frowns as he takes the burden. At least they had the decency to dress him as well.
The stranger smiles, a flash of sharp teeth that Kihyun dimly acknowledges much be fake and glued in place, then says, “He might have had a little much to drink, but he should be fine come morning.” One glance to Minhyuk’s closed eyes and the way his head lolls has Kihyun sighing, but he doesn’t bother to fight it. If Minhyuk is hungover in the morning, that will be his problem, not Kihyun’s. Thankfully, Kihyun has a number of private rehearsals and practices tomorrow, and Minhyuk won’t be able to con him into skipping to help out. He will suffer, and he will learn.
“Thanks,” he says instead, tone clipped as he turns away. He pauses long enough to pull Minhyuk’s arm over his shoulders, then head for the stairs.
Wonho stands for a moment, watching him go and scrambling for something to say.
“Do you need any help?”
Kihyun doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”
And just like that, Kihyun leaves.