Archive of Our Own

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

The words left Wooyoung’s throat low, raspy. They travelled on a groan that bounced around his blank room as he and San stood next to the wardrobe, early night outside the small window. His ringed hands were already grabbing for hips before San’s bashful giggle had truly reached him.

One knee hit the floor, hands digging into the other’s body so Wooyoung did not lose his balance. Saliva was pooling in his mouth now that he was at eye level with his boyfriend’s tummy. He was revelling in the fact that the man always let him do whatever, as well as the confirmation that Wooyoung had once again picked the perfect outfit for San.

The top had a subdued colour scheme he was too horny to focus on, and it was also technically his, meaning that on San’s broader frame the piece of clothing was nearly indecent. Almost too snug, therefore emphasising the broad chest and with the fabric stretched tight even showing the location of San’s tiny nipples. The length on him basically a crop top, smooth skin peeking out and currently responsible for Wooyoung’s crash out.

Technically San did not have a tummy. Not really. The man’s second love after Wooyoung was the gym, which Wooyoung had many conflicting emotions about. On the one hand, weekly hours without his boyfriend to cuddle and annoy. On the other, hot boyfriend with muscles to throw him around and fold him into a pretzel if prompted.

Close as he was, Wooyoung could feel the other’s breath hitch, could see the muscles tense low on San’s abdomen

when he pressed a kiss to the skin in front of him. It was honey. Smooth and subtle. San did not have a tummy, but the pants were just tight enough to dig into the flesh of his hips, causing the slightest spill over and Wooyoung felt his teeth ache.

“You look edible,” he rasped, giving into the temptation and dragging his teeth over his boyfriend’s taut abdomen, nipping at the little pudge over the pants. Maybe he also rubbed his nose over the soft bulge beneath it, since he was already there and San somehow always smelled even better than he looked.

San’s own voice was a bit restless as he squirmed in his hold, always adorably sensitive. “It’s your shirt,” he whined, as if that would calm Wooyoung down, as if that did not make it ten times hotter.

“Yeah, my shirt on my boyfriend. I’m a genius.”

Hopelessly entranced, he watched his own hands with heavy silver rings slide the shirt further up, exposing the pretty lines San worked so hard for, covered by the healthy fat lovingly put there by Wooyoung and his cooking skills. San was flawless and Wooyoung managed one sweet kiss under his belly button until two hands pulled him up, his boyfriend apparently running out of patience.

Their height difference never forgotten but minimal, San eagerly grabbed his whole face once Wooyoung was back on his two feet, pulling him into a filthy kiss. Hot and wet, always trying to consume him whole while Wooyoung gave back just as good. It was too easy to lose himself in San and when two small hands started grabbing Wooyoung’s ass he arched further into the hold. His own outfit had been curated just as carefully—he knew that the baggy ripped jeans with the fishnets underneath would rile his Sannie up like nothing else. Genius, as he said.

Breaking the kiss for some air, San continued groping him, a little kitty making biscuits, and Wooyoung started sucking on his neck. Yet he could not stop praising him, not when San squirmed so deliciously.

“You look so good, Sannie. Everyone will lose their minds tonight. I fucking love frat parties.”

At that San pulled back. Their chests against each other, moving as they caught up on oxygen and still only a breath apart as they stared at each other. There was clear amusement in San’s eyes, so obvious not even the dark blush could cover it.

“No you don’t,” he reminded him. “You said you would rather watch that movie with me and that we’re only going because Jongho is forcing us.”

With San reminding him of that particular conversation, Wooyoung groaned, slumping into his boyfriend’s strong hold. “Oh God, true, why did we agree to go to this stupid party?”

“Because we joined this frat willingly and it’s literally downstairs?”

“Ugh,” Wooyoung complained. “That was so stupid of us. Let me look at your ass, that will make me feel better.”

Snorting, San dutifully turned around, all too well knowing that Wooyoung actually meant that. Because he fucking did. His boyfriend’s ass was not the biggest but so perky and, in this outfit, Wooyoung could easily grab him again, tiny waist framed by his hands, thumbs digging into his lower back.

Maybe it was good that San was now facing the wall. Wooyoung felt a bit feral and close to drooling like this. If he were to see San’s adorable face at the same time, he might start humping him.

San seemed unbothered, continuing conversationally as he addressed him over his shoulder. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad, Youngie. Last time we had fun, right?” There was this specific inclination at the end of the sentence, placed there by San just for him. And Wooyoung remembered. The last party, and the one before that...

Without warning he jerked San back by his hips, draping himself over his broad back, not at all bothered (maybe even pleased) that he often felt small against San. With his crotch pressed against his favourite ass, Wooyoung was sure he could get hard in next to no time, but this one sentence from his boyfriend had made it perfectly clear that it would have to wait. The evening was planned out for them, the dice cast so to speak.

Pressing one soft kiss to San’s neck, Wooyoung held him more securely, the old butterflies right where they belonged when San snuggled back into the hold.

“Okay, you’re right,” Wooyoung mumbled. “Maybe I don’t always like frat parties, but I love you.”

“Love you too,” San echoed, turning his head to nuzzle against his temple. His voice was soft and dreamlike, truly just a big kitty made mellow with some pats. Though the next second he reminded Wooyoung that he was also still a twenty-one year old fratboy with all the clichés of a one track mind. “You also look fucking hot. It’s good that you gave me the tight pants so my dick has to behave.”

Laughing, Wooyoung stole another kiss, using the advantages of their position to grab San’s bulge, because he could and it made him whine so prettily. Now also laughing with him, San covered Wooyoung’s bigger hand with his, making him squeeze around him.

It was all so ridiculous. And perfect. Wooyoung knew he could do this, them, forever.

People who claimed committing in college was too early and ill- advised were so fucking dumb.

♡

Contrary to some of his frat brothers, who had been roped in by low rent or old family legacies, Yunho majorly enjoyed being part of a frat. He liked that there was always someone in their house to do dumb shit with, liked that no matter what, at least one of the guys could relate because they were all at the same point in life. He especially liked the predictable chaos of frat parties, or rather the hidden stories between. It was endless entertainment.

Holding a red solo cup with some unidentifiable liquid in it that Jongho had pushed into his hand, Yunho leaned against the wall next to a door, taking in the scene. What had been their slightly messy common room a few hours ago, was now their horribly trashed common room filled to the brink with people. Some faces were familiar, some were not, yet there was familiarity in the strangers as well, because new people were as much a constant as cheap beer.

Everything was loud, sweaty and dark, but the music selection was actually good, and their guests were crowding every surface or even dancing where there was space in the back. Yunho hid a smile in his cup when he saw a well-known head of pink hair slip into the kitchen, pleased to know how his night would end.

Though he still wanted his shot of drunken entertainment, unable to consider this party a success if he did not manage to hunt down even the smallest story to tell Mingi later on.

As so often in life, Yunho got lucky. This time it announced itself in the form of one of the strangers stepping into the space next to him. It was a girl, tall, conventionally pretty, not his type. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music yet it was clear that she was talking to Yunho even though she was also facing towards the crowded room.

“Hi.” That was all she said for now.

“Hey.”

Yunho readied himself to politely turn her down, when he realised that she was a bit too focussed on the room, without it appearing to be a display of fake casualness, leading him to conclude that she, surprisingly, was not there for him. Intrigued, feeling the familiar lure of something new to uncover for him, Yunho followed her gaze, trying to figure it out, his eyes scanning the room left and right for anything out of the ordinary. He looked down at her again and back to the party in full swing. And then the metaphorical light bulb went ping over his head as he finally spotted what, or better who, had caught her interest. His huff of amusement—the predictability too funny—got lost in the music.

Over there, next to the kitchen Mingi had disappeared into, was San, casually leaning against the doorframe and talking to another unknown girl. Both women had excellent taste. Yunho himself had to do a double take, because while he saw Choi San every day, usually while the other stole his Choco Puffs in the kitchen, the man was usually a bit more...well, covered, even on evenings like this.

A low whistle escaped him. Wooyoung had really outdone himself this time. The short, messed up hair highlighted San’s cheekbones and the crop top revealing a sliver of tummy was...a lot. Yunho was a man with eyes, and San looked especially good today, it had to be said, however, he would never do so out loud. Yunho valued his life.

The girl next to him was still locked in on San on the other side of the room with predatory focus. She clearly also thought he looked hot, but unlike Yunho she did not know that it was not her privilege to do so. Studying her for another second, Yunho decided he was feeling benevolent today.

Yet he was also curious what she was actually going to say, deciding to wait it out.

“Do you know him?” She eventually asked, nodding at where San was still talking with the other girl.

“Oh yeah, that’s San,” Yunho offered, raising his voice to be heard over the music. “You don’t want to touch that though. He’s gay as fuck—” and happily taken by a possessive little demon, he had meant to add, only that she interrupted him before he got to that part.

“He’s too hot to be gay.”

The fuck? That felt homophobic. Maybe this was a lesson she needed to learn. Yunho had just wanted to help.

“Look, he is clearly flirting with her,” she continued. “If he’s flirting with that chick, he can flirt with me.”

San was. Kind of.

One last attempt. “Yeah, that’s—” a game they like to play.

“Watch and learn,” she said, already moving, eager to ruin her evening. It was unclear why she had even talked to him.

Rolling his eyes, Yunho took another sip. It was not like he actually cared.

“Good luck.” Not a chance.

♡

San and Wooyoung had a routine for parties like this. A modus operandi that San was used to by now, that he enjoyed in its simplicity.

He had been doing his thing— chatting to friends, sipping his beer, shallowly entertaining a conversation with a girl he could not remember the name of while he felt his neck prickling with Wooyoung’s attention—the usual, when suddenly a completely different girl had jumped out of nowhere, rudely interrupting the first one and hijacking the conversation until the other had left.

Even if San had not been a happily taken man and the whole thing just their version of foreplay, he would have disliked her on the spot. She had barely coaxed his name out of him when she was already moving closer, tossing her hair and then there was her hand. Yes, San let people flirt with him, but they usually never touched him.

Decisively he whipped her hand away from his arm, not listening to one word she was saying, counting down the seconds, because there was no way in hell Wooyoung would let her continue for much longer. San almost smiled.

Yet the girl was painfully oblivious to San’s disinterest, self-confidence too high to even consider it, and her hand came back, lingered. It was slimy. Or it felt slimy. Her tiny, dainty fingers were like spider legs and San’s skin crawled where she touched him.

San liked big hands. Hands that were masculine and strong, with rings that dent his skin if he asked nicely.
Like the one currently snatching the girl’s hand from his wrist.

“Hands off my boyfriend, bitch.”

Wooyoung.

Gooey softness filled San as the correct, the only right hand settled heavy on his hip, warm where the lack of fabric allowed it. A quick look to his saviour confirmed that Wooyoung was pissed, glaring at the girl who had not immediately gotten the hint, currently staring right back, mouth open, fuming. San had probably stupid and obnoxious hearts in his eyes, completely unfitting for the situation but Wooyoung was here now. Being claimed was San’s favourite part.

The girl seemed genuinely shocked and offended as she gaped at them, but her hands were far away from San, so all was well.

“Boyfriend?” She repeated in disbelief.

“Yes,” Wooyoung hummed, seemingly enjoying this even more than usual as he cosied up to San, hand now completely splayed over his tummy as he held him and rested his chin on his shoulder. “You got a problem with that?”

Her wide eyes flittered to all the places they touched, and San believed to now see the disgust in her eyes which he had previously felt.

“You fuck men?” She asked, crude as she addressed San, ignoring Wooyoung completely.

“No,” San said calmly. “He fucks me.” Lying was acceptable if people were mean to him. Wooyoung had said so.

The girl opened her mouth, closed it again, buffering as if that was a new concept for her. Maybe it was. Sucks to be closeminded.

Safe against his boyfriend, San could not help himself. “Huge dick. Fucks me so good. 10 out of 10.”

Before she could catch herself, Wooyoung butted in. “So he’s not interested, okay?” His other hand wandered over San’s arm up to his neck where he gently turned his head until their mouths were hovering over each other. San felt the low murmur against his lips. “He’s all mine.”

Both their eyes flitted over to her, basking in the recognition of intimacy blazing through the envy. She looked appalled, but her gaze lingered on all the places they touched, followed Wooyoung’s hand as it slid further down San’s tummy. Nothing too indecent of course. One singular finger carefully slipped into the waistband of his pants, not far, only so that the soft pad could feel San where a few hairs began—though the girl could not know that, would never know that. San caught the faintest smirk on his boyfriend’s face. Wooyoung loved this, loved grazing the part only he would get to see. Previous parties had shown there were a lot of people who wondered what San might look like below the belt, but it was all only for Wooyoung. A boundary. The one that made this game so exciting.

With electricity tingling along his spine, San’s own hands settled heavy on Wooyoung’s hips. It was the reason for the act, the possessiveness, the display of belonging, the fact that no one made him feel as crazy as Wooyoung did...he could not care less whether the girl had disappeared now or if she had stayed to watch. With a little helpless whine he gathered Wooyoung even closer until they were touching everywhere and finally pressed his mouth to his, sucking on his hot tongue one second later. Nothing was more rewarding than Wooyoung’s deep groan. Usually they would drag it out for a bit longer— Wooyoung liked seeing how long they squirmed, but they were too riled up for that.

“My boyfriend is so fucking hot,” San rasped against his mouth, licking into it.

“Yours,” Wooyoung murmured sweetly, lax and heavy in San’s arms. His, because it went both ways.

Pressing his semi against his boyfriend’s, San slowed down their kiss the tiniest bit, enough to also pay attention to the moles he adored so much. From the corner of his eyes he noticed that the girl was no longer there.

“She left,” he giggled, pulling back so he could rub their noses together.

“Good,” Wooyoung replied, smiling up at him and playing with the short hairs at the back of his head. “What you said was really funny.”

San preened. Most of the time he did not really say anything at all, too busy not immediately getting a full hard on with Wooyoung so possessive right next to him.

“I’ve never fucked you though,” Wooyoung added with a laugh.

Rolling his eyes fondly, San kissed him again. “Yeah, but that’s none of her business.”

Wooyoung was beyond beautiful when he smiled. It was the kind of vision San had expected to only be granted in the afterlife, but, inexplicably, fatefully, it had appeared to him when he had been still so incredibly young. Wooyoung was beyond beautiful when he smiled at him like that, divinity for San’s devotion. And still, his love was the perfect contradiction, never boring. In this moment it meant Wooyoung was up on his tiptoes, nibbling at his sensitive neck, biting his earlobe.

Wooyoung was beautiful when he smiled even when San could only hear it happening, felt it in the air.

“Wanna fuck me then?” Wooyoung whispered against his ear, breath warm and tingly before San felt the broad, wet stroke of his tongue on his neck. Immediately the pants got even tighter.

“Fuck, Young-ah, you don’t even have to ask.”

“Was it hot how I rescued you?” His face looked so innocent as he stared up at San with big eyes.

“So so hot.” San was basically moaning. He could not fucking wait to drag Wooyoung upstairs. When his boyfriend was pleased and confident like that, he usually rode San until he swore he saw stars. Arguably one of his favourite positions. “So fucking hot. Baby, let’s go, yeah? I’m already hard.”

They both glanced down at the admittedly very obvious outline of his dick. As it turned out, the pants were apparently not tight enough.

“But Sannie,” Wooyoung began pouting, bewitching him with his pretty eyes. It had San almost panting, willing to do absolutely everything for him. “I want to dance first.”

Wooyoung was a menace. His.

Decisively San grabbed his own dick, adjusting it to make it less obvious through the fabric. The same hand proceeded to grab Wooyoung’s.

“Let’s go fucking dancing then.”

♡

Wooyoung liked a chill weekend with food and movies as much as the next guy with a cute buff boyfriend, but every so often they had to attend the parties of their own frat—Jongho said so and it was kind of his call—and without fail the parties all ended like this.

The bass was booming through the room, and Wooyoung gave himself to the music, revelling in San’s hands on him. His boyfriend was an amazing dancer, always matching his rhythm, never taking his adoring eyes of him. Wooyoung lived for this.

When the song morphed into something more sultry, he immediately pulled San closer, making sure to rub all the interesting parts against him. The earlier scene had riled him further up and Wooyoung thanked his lucky star that San just got him, because he had no way of explaining why he liked their little game so much.

There had never been a real discussion about this. Wooyoung knew San would never truly entertain any of the advances. It was just fun. Slightly mean for the other party, but not really. Neither San’s hands nor eyes ever wandered, they were Wooyoung’s.

San never gave them any sweet words, those were Wooyoung’s too.

He never made any promises, Wooyoung already held all of them and was ready to wreck carnage if you touched what was his.

The only thing that San ever did was smile, maybe mumble a polite thank you, and burn up on the inside knowing that Wooyoung was watching him and the promise of what he would do to him later.

Even San’s low groan was only heard by Wooyoung as he turned around, one hand coming up to San’s neck as he kept rubbing his ass against the huge erection hidden by some flimsy pants. Speaking of San’s fat cock—also his. And since he was half hard in his own jeans, Wooyoung decided a bit more stimulation for both of them could not hurt. He took San’s hand mid song, dragging his dazed, compliant boyfriend over to one of the smaller, unoccupied couches in the corner. The room was still very much crowded, sweltering with faceless bodies, yet the late hour and the flickering lights gave everything a cover of illusioned semi-privacy that would never be achievable during the day.

As soon as San’s ass hit the cushion Wooyoung gave himself one second to enjoy the delicious picture he made all splayed out for him, cock straining, and then his patience ran out. He eagerly climbed into his boyfriend’s lap, straddling him and making sure his ass was on San’s dick. The whole thing only took a second and Wooyoung was already angling his boyfriend’s face upwards, pushing his tongue in his mouth. He keened when San immediately reciprocated, pulling him closer with two hands on his ass and grinding them together.

Wooyoung imagined what they looked like for all the people watching. Wondered if they wanted him, or San, or both of them and revelling in the fact that none of it would ever happen.

“Mine,” he rasped against San’s lips, nipping at them until he could feel San’s whine more than he heard it with the music still going.

“Young-ah.” When San realised that Wooyoung was teasing him, holding out on a real kiss, he latched onto his throat, surely sucking a mark into the tender skin under his ear. The sensations made him burn, his own patience gone up in smoke.

San did his part to make Wooyoung even crazier.

“Young-ah,” he whined again. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re jealous.”

“Yeah?” Wooyoung rasped back, moving his hips, all but

dry-humping San in the middle of the party. “You enjoy our little game?”

“Yes, Yes, Wooyo, baby please. Touch me properly.”

Wooyoung would love to, honestly, but no one was allowed to see San’s cock but him, so his boyfriend would have to wait a little while longer.

“They’re so dumb,” he said instead, halting the movement with his hips because San was kind of really sensitive and not allowed to cum in public. “As if you would ever be interested in them when you could have me.” There was a time where Wooyoung would have died from shame if he heard himself say such words, but that was long ago. San had convinced him that he could say these things out loud without being preposterous because it was the honest truth. “You’re mine,” Wooyoung almost growled, biting so hard into San’s neck that it had his boyfriend bucking up as he added to the collections of marks San was already hiding under that tiny, indecent shirt.

“All yours.” San gathered him closer. Promised again. And again. Never really stopped, be it by kiss or caress or maybe by remembering Wooyoung’s second favourite kind of candy. It had been that way ever...

“Since you first kissed me,” San murmured into his ear, arms wrapped around Wooyoung and being way too sweet. “Always only yours.”

There were in fact multiple eyes on their intertwined forms, but by this point Wooyoung never noticed, nor did he care.

♡

“Fuck. Yeah, like that. Just a bit more for me Sannie.”

San tried, he really did. Toes curling, muscles twitching and sweating all over, he watched Wooyoung’s glorious, naked body moving above his own. Not much time had passed since their make-out session on the couch. When his own desire had become too consuming—San having gone mad long before that—Wooyoung had basically dragged him up to his room, unceremoniously ripped both their clothes off, pushed him on the bed, and next thing San knew his dick was in the wet, hot, tightness of Wooyoung’s lubed up hole. Heaven that’s what this was.

As he rode him at a relentless pace Wooyoung’s own hard dick was slapping against San’s abdomen, leaking so prettily and San could not help himself, one sneaky hand reaching out, wanting to touch, wanting to feel, maybe taste a little...

Suddenly both of his hands were pinned next to his head and Wooyoung clenched around his cock, coxing one helpless, drawn out moan out of San, spine bowing up.

“Not yet Sannie,” Wooyoung reminded him.

“Sorry.” It came out breathless. The pleasure too hot and all-encompassing for San to be anything but delirious, but the fog broke for the shortest while when Wooyoung leaned down and pecked his lips to remind him that he was never actually upset with him. When they were vulnerable like this, both instinctually valued the physical reminders, the proof accompanying, softening, any word.

Slowly, Wooyoung eased them back into their previous pace. The friction on San’s sensitive dick, despite the wetness, had his balls drawing up and his boyfriend’s words were not helping the impending orgasm.

“How do you—ah! How do you–fuck Sannie—how do you feel so good?” Wooyoung himself was lost in the sensation of being so full of cock, the position allowing him to use San’s dick exactly how he wanted. He let go of his hands to sit up more fully, instead finding purchase on San’s thighs behind his back, head thrown up, and San was gobsmacked by the visuals. Wooyoung, his Wooyoung, bouncing on his dick, hips moving fluidly and so much pleasure on his pretty face.

“Youngie,” he whimpered again, knowing that the other would understand the warning in it.

“How do you do it?” Wooyoung rasped out. “So fucking good. Already came once Sannie, but still so perfect for me.”

Oh right, San’s first orgasm was kind of lost in the haze and its origin as well, but it would certainly explain why he could swear he felt everything on his cock. He was so sensitive, completely overwhelmed by it all, but the burn was still so fucking good.

“Good,” he echoed. “So good, baby.” He was slurring, greedy hands shooting forward from their position over his head, kneading the flesh of his boyfriend’s thighs, feeling the muscles shift whenever Wooyoung pushed himself up before letting gravity do the rest. The first load San had spilled into his boyfriend was making everything even messier, creating a ring around the base of his cock, white dripping down his balls.

“Stretching me so well. Fuck, Sannie, I love your cock, I—” Wooyoung got interrupted by his own moan and San just knew from experience that he had managed to hit his prostate just right. More precum leaked out, collecting in the divots on his tense abdomen.

When Wooyoung’s eyes snapped back open they locked in with San’s, pleading. “You can cum again, right? Fill me up again? Want it, Sannie.”

San felt as if his dick was about to explode any second now, so the answer was probably yes.

Plus, Wooyoung usually knew best. Over the years they had learned each other and Wooyoung could now inherently sense what was the pleasurable kind of too much and when San needed to quit. San trusted him explicitly, with this, and everything else he could possibly give or need.

“Sannie!” Wooyoung suddenly gasped, eyes pressed closed, tears collecting as he bottomed out.

San still felt out of his mind with pleasure, but years of repetition were burned into him. He quickly grabbed Wooyoung’s cock, jerking him through his orgasm, because while his boyfriend could cum like this, San always wanted him to have everything.

Streaks of white collected on his twitching abs, his own hips bucking against Wooyoung’s weight as he felt another orgasm ripped from him. Everything was sweltering, twitching, loud and spent as Wooyoung collapsed forward into his chest, uncaring of the mess. San felt the pulses still rippling through his body, felt Wooyoung clench around him.

Basking in the afterglow, San wrapped him in his arms. One hand gently carded through Wooyoung’s long messy hair to let him know how loved he was, the other was massaging his lower back, because San cared.

At the same time Wooyoung whispered sweet nothings, kissed his sweaty chest, telling him just the same albeit differently.

They found it in each other.

♡

Being in college was exhausting, boring, sometimes even fun. As for many things Wooyoung’s opinion on it depended on the individual day. He liked his major well enough and though he loved to complain—a hobby of his—he also liked his frat. He kind of had to. It brought him to San.

Being in college was challenging, occasionally interesting, was a preplanned step, a part of life. In all of it San was bigger than that and Wooyoung was not too proud or embarrassed to admit how gone he was for that man. Safety, love, acceptance, Wooyoung had found him in this one step of life but intended to keep him for all the others, knowing they would mean more with San by his side.

He loved him.

♡

San often thought to himself that Wooyoung was his bubble. He was well aware that others liked to describe his boyfriend as loud, hyperactive, or maybe even as scary when they did not actually know him. Adjectives, which even when well-intended, painted a more spikey picture, but no. It was San who knew him best and Wooyoung was a shining, lovely bubble. Protective, safe, always covering San whole. Wooyoung made him feel important. Wooyoung made him feel that it was not silly to marry your college boyfriend. Wooyoung made San believe they were the exception.

He loved him.

♡

Every week brought a new Saturday, and every Saturday had a fratparty with the same inevitability—at least as long as Jongho was in charge and so far he had been re-elected as president for the third time.

Yunho was three drinks deep, way too little considering how advanced the night already was, chilling on one of the cleaner couches alone, a front row seat to Wooyoung and San’s peculiar dynamic. Maybe he had a voyeuristic streak he was not ready to admit to, but Yunho liked to think he was simply fascinated. There they were in the middle of moving bodies, maybe deluding themselves that they were dancing but only their clothes kept it from being a public offense. Wooyoung was all but climbing San while San had one hand literally inside of his jeans, shamelessly groping his boyfriend’s ass.

Yunho was well aware that there were some people who only knew them in passing and questioned how well they actually fit together. Past fratparties had let Yunho learn that some idiots interpreted their relationship as doomed to fail, had described Wooyoung as loud and claiming and San a prisoner that got caught in his force. Nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, Wooyoung was possessive, and demanding, and loud on occasion, but so was his love for San. And San...there was this quiet reverence whenever he looked at Wooyoung, love, simple as that. The kind that burned steadily, living self-sufficiently where it did not have to.

To Yunho’s trained eye it seemed as if today was one of those nights where they were a bit too impatient for their usual shenanigans, about to leave any second and go back to their rooms. But—oh. No apparently not. Yunho observed how Wooyoung detangled himself from San, giving the man one last deep kiss before whispering something in his ear and walking off with a confident sway to his hips. It was not hard to tell where the confidence came from, San’s obsession and infatuation with his boyfriend painfully obvious. Yunho had always thought they were kind of sweet, in their own depraved ways.

For Yunho the question was how he wanted his own evening to go. Should he go join the moving bodies—dance was his major after all—or go find a new story to observe since so far nothing out of the ordinary had happened and Yunho could not have that. He always found something, a little rumour, a minute observation—he was not picky—to add to his collection.

The decision was made for him when the couch dipped and suddenly Hongjoong sat next to him, offering him another bottle of beer. Yunho blinked, needing a moment to confirm he was not hallucinating. No it was him, Kim Hongjoong, fifth year music major, prodigy who supplied Yunho with tracks for his showcases, and also a perpetual and well known hermit. Last year a rumour had been going around campus that Hongjoong was actually physically unable to leave the music building due to a curse from a witch, yet there he was, in the middle of their fratparty, looking slightly unwell and freaked out but also very real.

Yunho smiled.

“Thanks,” he forced through the music, accepting the new beer.

Hongjoong waved him off in the most awkward way possible.

The smile deepened.

“What are you doing here?” Given the rarity of this experience Yunho did not feel too bad to simply ask out right, because he had invited the older man to countless of their parties and Hongjoong had never ever showed up. As far as Yunho was aware the witch curse might be a true story. So this, this was peculiar and Yunho was locked in.

“What? I can’t go to parties?” Hongjoong faked bravado, taking a sip of his beer as he looked straight at his knees, as if he might get bitten if his eyes strayed left or right.

“You certainly can, but you usually don’t.” This was what Yunho searched for every Saturday.

Hongjoong shrugged. Perfectly suspicious and Yunho turned on the couch, now facing him wholly and with a huge grin on his face.

“Come on, tell me what’s up dude,” he urged. “Girl troubles?” A shot in the dark really.

Next to him the other man tensed up, and suddenly he was no longer watching the room but rather actively avoiding eye contact and Yunho lit up with understanding. He knew that kind of face. He had a strict Catholic upbringing and a mirror.

Though that was in the past. The now was his opportunity to spread the wisdom.

“Oh?” He cocked his head, homing in on his squirming prey. “Boy troubles then?”

♡

At the beginning of the semester Hongjoong had expected to walk into his Creative Genres lecture, excited to explore new music and broaden his horizon with a challenge. He certainly did that as well, but most importantly, Hongjoong found the course of his life altered.

Though he did not realise that immediately.

He could have. The signs had been there.

Because on that very ordinary first day, Hongjoong had walked into the room to his lecturer announcing that they were supposedly doing a semester long project for their credits and were to be matched up with someone from the Education Department to write a whole album with songs for children—Hongjoong did not remember many specifics, because by that point he had already been paired up with the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

Which, due to the nature of the project, led to weekly meetings with that man, becoming somewhat friends or at least acquaintances with the man, finding out more about who he was as a person, and consequently, inevitably, crushing hard, on that man.

As it turned out Hongjoong was not as straight as he had previously believed and the slight prompting from Yunho was all it had taken for him to crack, and suddenly Hongjoong found himself word vomiting all over the disgusting couch in the middle of a frathouse, spilling his guts on how he had genuinely believed to be exclusively into girls, but the past months had been torture, no end in sight.

Hongjoong had all of these feelings inside of him and no idea what to do with them, how to approach the man he fantasied about in such a casual and cool manner that would convince him to maybe go out with him.

One chance, Hongjoong just needed one chance. Yet he would never find the courage to speak any of his emotions out loud in the open.

Hongjoong could not help thinking that Yunho was so kind and benevolent to listen to him rant like this even though he could probably not even care less.

♡

Yunho was living for the drama. By the end of Hongjoong’s monologue, Yunho was honestly impressed by the amount of pathetic longing you could fit in such a small body.

But damn, as far as he could tell even Hongjoong was a bit alarmed about all his confessions, yet he did seem unable to stop, filter completely gone, the beer not helping.

As a consequence, Yunho was privy to basically the whole story and the secret knowledge that, by now, Hongjoong was at the point where he had to admit to himself that excessively thinking about another man’s voice and eyes while rubbing your dick raw was probably not something straight men did. Neither did they start writing sappy songs about another man’s laugh and kindness while desperately trying to keep all of that out of their actual project; because it was a meant for children, because his crush was a literal angel making it his life’s mission to care for them.

Even better, or maybe worse, Hongjoong was past the point of sexual confusion, declared that he did not even care about the revelation itself—so he was at least bi, who cares (Yunho nodded along, a very healthy outlook) what he cared about was that his crush was the most gorgeous and kind person alive, but also completely unattainable in his Godlike status. Hongjoong was apparently horrible at flirting, the one girlfriend he had had he had only managed to acquire because she basically picked him up by the neck and he ran with it.

Allegedly, the only reason why Hongjoong had come to this frat party was because Yunho had once again invited him just a few days ago. Hongjoong was aware that by that point it was only out of politeness, but he had felt the sudden urge to drink his sorry existence away for a few hours.

Yunho assured him that he was very welcome here. He could empathise with Hongjoong, the trials of love were never easy. Yunho wanted to help, though he could probably only offer a place to vent—however, there was one teeny, tiny, pressing question he simply had to ask. Because Hongjoong had talked for a good ten minutes, given Yunho explicit details he had definitely not needed to know, but what he had not given him was a name.

Before the other could start another monologue, Yunho sneaked it in, quickly, knowing he would need to catch him off guard.

“So...who is this mysterious crush, Hyung?”

At that, Hongjoong’s eyes flitted to the right after all, past dancing bodies and flickering lights from a cheap disco ball, for one second lingering on the back of man who was deep in conversation at the other end of the room. It was fast, but all the more incriminating for it. Yunho saw the confession of guilt, the longing in the way Hongjoong so obviously, desperately had not wanted to look yet had been physically unable to stop himself.

Understanding bloomed on Yunho’s face, so visible that Hongjoong paled. It was clear that he had not meant to let that slip. The next second his eyes were on the man’s back again, gone as soon as he got himself under control. Yunho had no such hang-ups, unashamedly staring at the person Hongjoong apparently had a big fat crush on and therefore he noticed when the mysterious man turned from his conversation, waving to his friends and making his way out of the common room and thereby revealing his profile and even in the dim foggy light. Yunho recognised him immediately.

“Seonghwa?!” Yunho gasped, nearly screamed at his discovery. “You have a crush on Seonghwa?!”

Hongjoong shushed him aggressively, going so far as to slap a hand in front of his mouth. His eyes were darting around in panic, as if anybody was sober enough to hear them over the music.

Shaking the hand off, Yunho tried again albeit a bit more subdued.

“Seonghwa?” He hissed, staring at Hongjoong with big eyes.

Yunho himself was not even sure why he was surprised. Crushing on Seonghwa was very reasonable, almost entry level requirement for being gay. He himself had caught himself on occasion—again Yunho was a man with eyes—so maybe he should have known. Most likely it was the unexpected proximity to himself that had caught him of guard. Their university was reasonably big, statistically speaking he should not have known Hongjoong’s crush and yet here they were.

Not only did Yunho know Seonghwa. Oh no. This delightful discovery also meant that he knew how to help Hongjoong and do so in the most entertaining way possible. Did Yunho mention he loved living in a frat?

Still wary and paranoid, and rightfully so, Hongjoong’s voice was so low that Yunho had to lean in.

“Do you...know him?”

What was the saying? Like the cat that got the cream. “Hmm...kind of?” Yunho was enjoying this way too much. He was already scanning the crowd, hoping that not too much time had passed...there. Perfect. His eyes locked in on where San was casually leaning against the wall, hands behind his back, looking delectable and innocent like the bait he was.

“I know how to help you,” Yunho informed Hongjoong with a shit eating grin.

“You do?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not really.”

Yunho deliberately ignored that. “I think you should flirt with San over there.” He straight up pointed a finger in the right direction so there could be no confusion about who they were talking about.

As expected, Hongjoong freaked out over nothing as soon as he realised that Yunho was being dead serious.

“What the fuck, Yunho!? I tell you I am hopelessly in love with a guy after thinking I was straight my whole life and your genius advice is to go flirt with strangers?!”

“Yes.”

“Yunho, why?” Hongjoong begged, appearing genuinely distressed by the idea, but also, maybe, just maybe, the right combination of drunk and desperate to go try anything.

Yunho took another sip of his beer. “Because it would be very entertaining for me, and also because I promise you this will help you with Seonghwa in the long run.” No one could accuse him of lying, Yunho did mean every word. “You need to learn how to not be so awkward and flirt,” he added, because there was also that. As far as Yunho was aware Hongjoong might actually be Seonghwa’s type (read: pathetic and whipped) but for that to mean anything the man needed to grow some balls and talk to him.

Hongjoong was still more than sceptical, but he was also scanning San’s form through the room. “Is he even gay?”

Throwing his hands in the air, Yunho spilled some beer on his jeans. “God, why is everyone fucking blind?! San is so fucking gay.” He poked a long finger against Hongjoong’s chest. “Don’t tell him you doubted it or he will cry.” And also his boyfriend will punch you.

In a split second decision, before the other could even say anything, Yunho pulled them both up from the couch, took away Hongjoong’s empty bottle and pushed him in the direction of an unsuspecting San. He watched as the other flailed, steadied himself and tried to make his way back. Yunho immediately took his shoulders and turned him around again, trying to appear confident and reassuring.

Hongjoong bounced back, attempting to push past him and maybe flee back to his studio to contact a witch and make it permanent, but Yunho had very long arms and a secret agenda. No little Hyungs would make it past him, so help him God!

“Come on,” he urged as he pushed Hongjoong for the fourth time—only with a bit more force. “Trust me. This is a good idea!”

“Yunho, I—” Hongjoong stumbled and as he came up again to glare at him, he actually paused for a second, considered, groaned, maybe cursed a little...and then he went, flipping Yunho off but doing so behind his back because his feet were already carrying him over to where San was still waiting.

Beaming, Yunho could not wait for this to play out. Hongjoong looked like he might throw up, but he himself was happy with his involvement.

This was good for him.

♡

Was Hongjoong desperate and willing to try almost anything to maybe breathe the same air as Seonghwa for more than two hours a week? Yes. Did he already know as he was approaching this San dude that this was a horrible idea? Also yes.

Alas, the other man had already noticed that he was now standing in front of him, sweating and hopelessly out of his element. San cocked his head, a way too kind smile on his lips as Hongjoong stopped before him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. What was he even supposed to say? Yunho could at least have given him some pointers before this.

When the awkwardness stretched too long, San apparently willing to wait it out and Hongjoong considering bailing and never coming back, he eventually blurted something out, the words only registering when it was too late.

“Do you come here often?”

How horribly cliché and humiliating. He could feel himself turn red and for a second it seemed that San was also processing that Hongjoong had said that. And then he laughed. Not in a mean way, just like he could not help himself.

“That’s your opener?” He asked through a giggle that was too honest, carrying an invite to laugh along.

Unable to do much else, Hongjoong did exactly that, burying his face in his hands with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Thankfully, this San seemed like a decent guy, someone who did not mind if people were awkward and maybe that was why Yunho had pointed to him. “Look, I’m sorry...”

Before he had a chance to explain himself there was a second voice, the tone far far away from San’s indulgent inquiry and Hongjoong’s head snapped up immediately when he heard the clipped, “Why are you talking to my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” His jaw dropped.

With a good amount of mortification and also now a tiny sprinkle of fear, Hongjoong regarded the scene in front of him. As if he had always been there, there was now a second man, draping a pliant San’s arm around his neck, snuggling into his side and intertwining his hand with the one now hanging over his shoulder, all while he glared at Hongjoong. Meanwhile San was beaming ear to ear, mumbling a sweet, acknowledging “Wooyoungie” before pressing a gentle kiss to the smaller man’s temple.

The man, named Wooyoung apparently, was definitely still trying to kill Hongjoong with his eyes, but at San’s affection he visibly softened, leaning into the contact and closing his eyes for one second. Small and short as the moment was the love between them was so obvious that Hongjoong was convinced that everyone who knew them simply had to know. Which meant...

Yunho was so fucking dead. Murdered. Decapitated. Ended— to be found lifeless in a very long ditch. Realising the set-up for what it was, Hongjoong was filled with the most gruesome ideas.

Actually, there was no time to lose, the planned murder an urgent task and escaping this situation a pleasant side effect. Hongjoong wordlessly turned away.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Idiot that he was, Hongjoong actually stopped when Wooyoung’s aggravated voice reached him. It did not help that everything was still fuzzy with the alcohol in his system.

“I...eh...I’m...going?”

“So you try to get with my boyfriend and then you just fuck off?”

They still stood as one person, but where Wooyoung was glaring at Hongjoong, San looked adorably confused.

Hongjoong still wanted to leave, had wounds to lick and Yunhos to kill. “No! I mean, yes? I didn’t know he had a boyfriend. I—”

Wooyoung looked like he had a lot to say about that, but San cut him off. “No Youngie, wait.”

Detangling himself he pulled the other properly next to him, retaking his hand and cupping his face with the other. “It’s not like that this time.”

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed but he willingly turned into the affection. “He was hitting on you.”

San shrugged. “Yeah, kinda, but badly.”

Hongjoong cringed. Since silently disappearing was apparently not allowed and he was equal parts tired and embarrassed, giving up and kissing his dignity goodbye seemed to be the only option. Honesty was the best course of action, right?

“Listen,” he sighed, immediately finding two sets of eyes on him. “I’m not good at this...it was supposed to be practice, I guess?”

Wrong move. Honesty was always a shitty choice and Hongjoong swore to remember that as his lesson. Only lies from now on.

He had barely finished talking when Wooyoung darted forward, his body stopped by San, screeching. “And you thought it’s a good idea to practice with Sannie’s dick!?”

Groaning in defeat, Hongjoong buried his face back in his hands, the words rushing out. “No. No! I’m sorry I didn’t know he was taken, okay? I did not even want to come over here. It was all—”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to?” Wooyoung interrupted, regarding Hongjoong as if he had just spit on his family legacy. “San is the hottest person here!”

Okay, so apparently Wooyoung did not want anyone to flirt with his boyfriend, but also everyone should want to flirt with his boyfriend. Gotcha. Hongjoong almost felt accomplished that he managed the realisation in his slightly intoxicated state, but unfortunately, he had bigger fish to fry, because hearing that statement the rest of his composure crumbled.

The hottest person here.

His eyes immediately darted to the space where Seonghwa had been half an hour ago but now no longer was. Then to the floor next to him. Where Seonghwa technically could be. Where Hongjoong wanted him to be.

Hongjoong was incredibly bad at keeping a neutral face and while Wooyoung was too busy skinning him with his eyes for potentially insulting his boyfriend, San sucked in a breath as he regarded his sorry form a bit too intently.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “Youngie, wait. I get it.”

“Get what?” Wooyoung asked, his voice actually sweet and soft when talking to San, even more so with the contrast of the switch up.

“Stay,” San ordered Hongjoong, pointing a menacing finger at his frozen form, apparently recognising him as the flight risk that he was. Then he turned back to his boyfriend, grabbing his face and pressing a gentle kiss to his angry pout. It softened instantly. “Love, listen, change of plans. He doesn’t like me like that. He’s in love, but not with me, okay? So no need to get protective.”

“What?”

That came from Hongjoong and Wooyoung simultaneously. San was nodding, all proud and preening that he had figured it out whereas Wooyoung appeared a bit lost when San let go off him, and Hongjoong noticed how the smaller man immediately snatched the other’s hand as if they simply had to be touching at all times.

Mostly though Hongjoong was in shock and terrified, because how had this random guy seen through him like that. Yunho, okay, that could have been predicted. Hongjoong had never been good with alcohol and if he was completely honest with himself, he had probably come to this party not only to forget but also to vent and wallow. But how the fuck had San noticed his pathetic state? Even in his own head Hongjoong was very careful with the l-word.

“But who is he in love with then?” Wooyoung asked, staring at San as if he held all the answer of the universe and Hongjoong genuinely feared that the man would simply announce Seonghwa’s name as if he could actually read his mind like that.

San spun back to him, consequently making him jump a little. “What’s your name?”

“...Hongjoong.” Somehow giving his name felt dangerous, San a fairy that could now command him as he wished.

Though San did nothing except nod and focus on Wooyoung as Hongjoong stood ignored and unable to move. It gave him a front row seat to this big beefy man pulling out the puppy eyes while he started pouting.

“I don’t know who he is in love with, Youngie, but I wanna help him.”

Maybe San was in fact magic because Wooyoung visibly melted, pulling the other in by his hips as the tension was fully replaced by fondness. “You sure he is in love, Sannie? He could just be a douchbag trying to get his dick wet even if the attempt was bad.”

Should Hongjoong be offended? He felt like he should be offended. He was kind of distracted by their dynamic though.

“I’m positive, sweetheart.” San mumbled, sneaking a little kiss to Wooyoung’s cheek.

“I don’t know...”

“I know. He has that stupid face.”

Hongjoong should definitely be offended.

“It’s the same one I see in the mirror every day since I met you,” San cheesed.

“Oh, Sannie.” Wooyoung was already pulling San down for a kiss, pressing his lips to the other’s without much preamble. As they started to full on make out in front of him, Hongjoong was awkwardly looking everywhere but them and was still seeing way more tongue than he wanted. Realising that this was his chance, he inconspicuously tried to scoot away.

Luck was not on his side. Before he could manage, San was plopping off Wooyoung with a wet noise, stopping him mid escape. “Wait! I want to help you!”

“Oh it’s okay,” Hongjoong waved him off, taking a step back and feigning nonchalance. “You really don’t have to, I—”

This time it was Wooyoung who cut him off, the dangerous glint back in his eyes, pointing a singular menacing finger. “If Sannie says we are helping you, we are helping you!”

Next to him San just smiled serenely, fiddling with the rings on his boyfriend’s hand as if it was completely normal to be treated like a princess who had just declared law.

This evening was so fucking weird, it had to be said.

Hongjoong had only meant to get his mind of things, not expecting to find Seonghwa of all people here, a development which had forced him to hide in the bathroom until he had spotted Yunho who had then sacrificed him to this Wooyoung guy to gut for reasons only Yunho knew and...weird weird weird and it only got weirder because Hongjoong heard himself say:

“Ooookay?”

San squealed, clapping his hands in delight while Wooyoung made eye contact with Hongjoong, squinting and somehow perfectly conveying that he was watching him very closely, without ever needing to utter the words.

“It’s way too loud here. We can go to the basement,” San announced, excitement bubbling out of him like a can of soda that had been shaken too much.

“Great idea, Sannie.” Wooyoung praised him.

“Wait you want to help me now?” Hongjoong added. Admittedly, he had no idea how they intended to help in the first place, since he had already filed himself as a hopeless case that would be forced to l-word Seonghwa from afar for the rest of his life, but he definitely expect this to be a ‘once we’re all properly rested and sober thing’.

It was clear that San considered the question to be dumb and therefore Wooyoung did too. “Of course? We have to start now. This is the best part. You need to tell us everything.”

Before Hongjoong knew it he was escorted through the crowds, past sticky beer pong tables and a too bright kitchen, until they reached a door San actually needed to unlock with a key from his pocket, meaning that at least one of those two were part of the frat, if not both. Yunho’s frat. Ergo more evidence that the man had known exactly what he was doing.

Behind the door were stairs which most likely led to the aforementioned basement, but as far as Hongjoong was aware it might also be the place he was going to be murdered at without ever getting the chance to do the same to Yunho.

Once they actually reached the basement Hongjoong was forced to reconsider. It was cleaner than every other part of the house he had seen so far, clearly used as some kind of movie room with couches, beanbags and huge flatscreen that made it very clear why this room had been locked if the three different gaming consoles beneath it had not been obvious enough. Momentarily distracted and still slightly buzzed, Hongjoong whistled lowly as he carefully walked in.

“Wow. Is every frat secretly like this?” Maybe he should join one, if that meant access to those speakers.

“Nah,” San said, already waving at Hongjoong to follow him over to some of the seating while Wooyoung walked to the fridges in the corner. “How do you know Jongho?”

“I never said I do?”

San laughed—clearly at him, but once again managing to do so without being mean. “Everyone knows Jongho. Ergo you can usually skip the that part. So,” he smiled, sinking down into one of those plush couches while Hongjoong took the armchair next to it. “How do you know Jongho?”

“He sang on the track that was part of my bachelor’s.”

“Told you,” San beamed. “To answer your question: Jongho’s dad is kind of sponsoring us, but we had to promise to take good care of the nice stuff.”

“Oh I see.”

Well, thank you Jongho’s dad, Hongjoong thought as he reclined in the comfortable leather armchair, watching the nice warm mood lighting. It had a funny effect on the buzz he had still going on, the drunkenness now more apparent in the calm, but Hongjoong did not mind too much, no alarm bells going off.

In front of him San was settling on the couch, thighs truly ridiculously wide apart and Hongjoong faintly wondered whether menspreading that much was really necessary when Wooyoung came back with three sodas, handing him one, before plopping down in the free space between San’s legs. Realising that this had been their plan all along Hongjoong watched how San took his own soda while the other arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s middle to pull him more securely against his chest. Without missing a beat Wooyoung reclined back into him, wriggling until he seemed comfortable. Okay, so apparently they were going to sit like that because why would they use the vast space on that couch when they could glue themselves together.

Something ached inside of Hongjoong when he saw how in tune they were. There might just be an actual gravitational pull between their bodies and while jealousy was not the right word for the tight feeling in Hongjoong’s chest, it might be described at something akin to longing. He wanted what Wooyoung and San had. Simple as that. Perhaps this was not the most horrible development after all, because was it not a popular piece of advice to not listen to people who don’t have what you want?
Logically, this would also apply to those who do.

While he drew his conclusions, Wooyoung and San were patiently watching him like the weirdest two person therapist, clearly waiting for him to get properly settled.

Hongjoong opened the can—it was lemon soda—and steeled himself with one deep inhale. Weirdly enough he felt as if he was in good hands. “So...ehm, you guys can help me?”

Smiling in unison was fucking creepy, Hongjoong felt like someone should tell them, but not him, because he was a chicken.

They officially introduced themselves as Wooyoung and San, together since Fresher’s Week, literally deciding on forever nineteen hours after they met—San had counted and Wooyoung had confirmed, which meant by now it had been three years (two months, nine hours and forty-two minutes (they had an app)) of being disgustingly in love with each other.

And Hongjoong with his hopeless crush was their new project.

They really wanted to help him, they promised. Or, San wanted to help and Wooyoung was seemingly willing to do whatever as long as it made his boyfriend happy.

And the first step of helping, which consisted of Hongjoong spilling his guts for the second time that night and getting his most private thoughts out in the open in front of two frat dudes he had just met would start right fucking now—because San had said so.

And Hongjoong did exactly that, because...? Well, he did not really know. Killing Yunho was still very high on the agenda but he had not seen that tall demon man anywhere on their way here. The guy had seemingly disappeared into thin air, never to be seen again like the gay version of the ghost of Christmas after having pushed grumpy Hongjoong in the right direction.

With that in mind, naturally the first thing Hongjoong did was snitch on Yunho, telling Wooyoung and San that he had set him up for public humiliation. The reasons clearly eluded the two other men as well, confusion evident on their faces, because Yunho was apparently one of their closest friends and definitely knew that they were more committed to each other than some married couples. However, what it surprisingly did not do was upset them. They only shrugged, offering and indignant Hongjoong a “He likes to meddle, we don’t judge.”

When it was then Hongjoong’s turn to speak about himself and his whole gay crush debacle, both of them gifted him his full attention. Occasionally San would press a soft kiss next to Wooyoung’s ear, or nuzzle his hair, but it seemed that the man did not even consciously notice that he was doing it so Hongjoong could not really fault him for that.

The longer he talked the more comfortable he got. The whole thing should have been awkward, kind of like his first attempt with Yunho, but the privacy and coziness of the room helped and they chatted with him as if they had been friends all along, asking clarifying questions and making encouraging sounds. Even if nothing came of this evening except for this talk, Hongjoong would not even call it wasted. He was used to solitude, but Wooyoung and San were nice—intense and way too comfortable with PDA—but nice. He was kind of grateful that they had taken him on, forced him to be friends, or at least friendly.

Yet it was getting kind of late and after Hongjoong’s tale had arrived in the present with him unexpectedly finding his crush at this very party and panicking, San declared that he had ‘gathered enough intel’, which also included Hongjoong’s phone number as well as the permission to call him Hyung, and declared they should go to bed and simply meet up again to discuss further action. Whatever that meant.

Having said his goodbyes, Hongjoong had already been escorted to the frontdoor of the house, the party now much calmer and fizzling out, when San pulled him back by his arm.

“Wait!” He called. “You still need to tell us who he is! I can’t work with an ominous ‘He’.” He made quotations marks with his fingers. “Though I do commend you for being so mysterious. A lot of people dig that.”

Oh, right. Hongjoong was so used to keeping all of this bottled in, he had not even noticed that he once again had omitted the name that haunted his dreams. Next to San, sleepily squishing his cheek against his boyfriend’s shoulder, Wooyoung was also staring at him expectantly, no longer glaring but open and curious.

Hongjoong felt as if he had already bared his soul to them. What was the name of his one true love in the grand scheme of things?

“Seonghwa,” he whispered. “His name is Seonghwa.”

♡

“Sannie, I can’t believe it! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” Wooyoung was pacing up and down in front of the bed from which San was watching him. “Can you believe it?!”

San could not believe it.

Honestly, what were the odds that Hongjoong, the guy they had promised to help with his crush, was in love with San’s older brother? This was Romcom level crazy. And so so exciting, San wearing a stupid grin as he watched his boyfriend run around his room at the top floor of their frathouse.

The reason for their elated moods was quite simple, because it seemed that not only was Hongjoong in love with Seonghwa, but he might just be the ‘straight man that is married to his music’, who San’s brother had been pining after all semester. If San was right, Seonghwa would eat Hongjoong up as soon as he had the gay go ahead. It was almost too easy.

More than pleased with how the night had gone even though there had not even been any hot possessive sex, San snuggled back into the covers, content to watch Wooyoung flit around his room and take off his makeup with the wipes he stored under the little sink next to the door.

San himself was already squeaky clean, dressed in a comfortable hoodie and wearing his purple headband with kitty ears. Of course he had no long hair to hold back with it—but Wooyoung did. San’s boyfriend was currently doing his skincare while babbling about coincidence and weird ways to meet future brother-in-laws, the black version of the cat headband holding his longer strands back from his face, and...San had wanted to match, okay?

Plus, Wooyoung claimed San always looked extra cute with the fake kitty ears and extra cute meant extra kisses.

San loved when Wooyoung called him cute. The word only ever felt as right when it came from his boyfriend’s lips. When other people called San cute it was sometimes an offhanded comment, or a joke, or slightly demeaning even without the intention. None of those ‘cute’ felt as if they fit him. Yet when Wooyoung said it...San felt cute. It made sense; because Wooyoung thought he was cute, but he had also told him how strong he was, how he admired San’s positive outlook on life and his caring nature. Small and curled up against his chest on a bad day, Wooyoung had told him how no one made him feel as safe as he did. Even when he was cute sometimes.

Pulled from his memories, San realised Wooyoung was done getting ready when the other approached the bed. His boyfriend was carefully balancing San’s cup of goodnight tea, which he had let steam on the dresser where they kept the electric kettle for this for exactly eight minutes. San immediately sat up, pulling off the big hoodie he had only been wearing to preheat. The kitty headband fell off, but that was okay because Wooyoung was not wearing his anymore either.

San took the tea, tasting it, perfect. Wooyoung took the hoodie, slipping it on with a pleased shudder. Thoughtful acts exchanged hands, a routine that was not openly acknowledged as one.

The tea was put on the bedside table for a second so Wooyoung could get situated under San’s arm like he did every night and when San felt the usual kiss to his naked chest, he knew it was safe to grab his tea, careful, always careful not to spill it.

It was around four am at that point, but more days than not they lay like this while San finished his tea and today it was even more important, since they had urgent matters to discuss even with sleep pulling at them.

“You know we can’t just tell him that Seonghwa likes him back,” he mumbled, fingertips drawing slow circles on Wooyoung’s shoulder and absentmindedly watching the dim interior of the room. “Seonghwa would kill me. I had to swear on my life that I would only tell you.”

Wooyoung’s smile was felt against his chest. “He made an exception for me?”

“Yes of course, because you are my exception,” San answered. Thankfully his brother had quickly realised how serious he was about Wooyoung even though they had only been eighteen at the time, and double thankfully, had basically adopted him on the spot. “Seonghwa Hyung knows I wouldn’t be able to not tell you, and he said he did not want me to die after forcing me to swear on my life, you know?”

Seonghwa was very annoying and a great brother.

Giggling, Wooyoung snuggled closer, the beloved mischief in his voice doing things to San’s heart. “What if Seonghwa Hyung had made you swear on my life?”

San gasped, horrified by the idea. “That’s evil. I couldn’t tell you then. But Wooyoung, baby, I have to tell you because I tell you everything!” The more San considered the issue, the more worked up he got. “But I can’t, because he made me swear on your life and—”

Sensing that this was stressing him out way too much, Wooyoung pulled himself up— careful because of the tea—and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of San’s mouth to shut him up.

“Hey, it’s not real, Sannie. You don’t have to choose.”

“Oh true.” It was so good that he had Wooyoung for things like this. “Thank God,” San sighed out. Not being able to tell Wooyoung literally everything that ever happened to him was a nightmare scenario.

But his love was right. It was not real. Wooyoung was right there, all the time, every night, readily listening to San’s rambles while he finished the tea and waited for the sleepiness to set in, or maybe making him cum so hard that he blacked out immediately. It depended on the day really.

Wooyoung’s own room was right down the hall but mostly used as a closet. Frats had a bad reputation, and San knew that some points were valid, because Seonghwa had laid it all out for him when explaining why he wouldn’t join, but being able to live in the same house as Wooyoung, their rooms so close together and with his own furniture and therefore a big bed...San would always choose the frat again. If he were straight and Wooyoung a girl and they would have locked him away from San at the other side of campus were the women’s dorms were, he would have just rolled over and died.

He had told his boyfriend as much for their one month anniversary.

“Sannie, isn’t that a bit dramatic?” Wooyoung had asked, though visibly pleased by the notion.

“Died, Wooyoung.”

Anyways, in the present the tea was doing its job and San could tell that Wooyoung was also close to falling asleep. He quickly put the mug on the bedside table, deciding he did not need the rest. Now he only needed scoot down a bit without disturbing Wooyoung, pulling the other’s smaller body further into his until neither of them could tell where the other began. Warm, loved, sleepy, San let out one satisfied exhale, closing his eyes as he basically secured Wooyoung in a headlock, face pressed to his chest and hugged by his biceps. Wooyoung liked that, for some reason. It was never clear to San how he got enough air like that.

“I think Hongjoong would actually fit Seonghwa really well,” San mumbled with the last of his strength.

Wooyoung’s voice was just as faint, muffled against San’s pecs.

“We’ll think about it tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

San felt lips against his naked chest, reflexively kissing Wooyoung’s head in answer. The second habitual kiss that meant something different but was just as engrained. Still, today San felt like saying it out loud.

“Night baby, I love you.”

♡

There was a pointy elbow digging into San’s rips. Yet he was cosy under the blankets and the bed smelled like them and San had not a single complaint.

Even though they always fell asleep intertwined, his boyfriend had a habit of moving around during the night and San had long gotten used to it. As long as he was allowed to follow and close the distance when he inevitably woke up first, that was fine with him.

It was the same on this Sunday. Eyes still closed, yawning, his hand padded the space to his side, trying to determine where his boyfriend had migrated exactly. Following the arm San quickly found a shoulder and mop of messy hair. It was actually great that Wooyoung was dead to the world until he got his eight hours of sleep, because San was free to just grab him like a teddy bear and haul him around and to his chest again as he himself sat up a bit further against the headboard. One hand scratched Wooyoung’s scalp to help him settle his dreams, the other reached for his phone on the bedside table.

According to the time on the screen they had in fact already slept for more than eight hours and it had San squint down at the other in suspicion, the bright light coming in from the single window aiding him. Sometimes Wooyoung just pretended to sleep. He claimed that the one time he had woken up right alongside San, bright and early (a fluke really) San had dragged him to the gym with him and Wooyoung had sworn to never repeat that mistake again.

San even poked his cheek but got no reaction. Yawning a bit more he resumed with the idle head scratches, focusing on his phone. It was not like they had any plans for the day so San figured fake or not, Wooyoung could rest for a bit longer.

He played some games on his phone, chugged the rest tea from yesterday, checked the group chat for the frat to find out what broke this time (the sink), and took a few adorable selfies with Wooyoung squished to his chest. All of it burned enough time that Wooyoung actually woke up during it and admitted as much, but he still wanted to cuddle so San simply squeezed him a bit closer and held the phone so that he could watch as well.

They found a quiz which promised to tell him what kind of cat he was, and San was hoping either for a cute orange one or maybe Siamese. Wooyoung was a black cat, no need to take the quiz since San would not accept any differing opinions on the matter. They were still in the middle of it, Wooyoung’s soft morning voice arguing that, for question six, San was more of a strawberry than a mango, when a message popped up at the top of his display.

It was Seonghwa, texting to make sure San remembered their aunt’s birthday next week. A futile attempt because as soon as San saw his brother’s name on the display, he gasped softly, remembering the party last night and forgetting everything else.

He immediately needed to confirm with Seonghwa that Hongjoong was in fact the ‘straight’ man he had been whining about. It was the obvious first step for a plan San was still working on.

Hyung! Are you still wanting that music major dick?

San, I swear to God. I did not raise you like this.

Is that how you talk to your older brother?

Are you? The small one with the pixie nose?

Something like that

...yes ugh
It’s actually so embarrassing how hung up I am on this

Why are you asking?

No reason. Wooyoie and I were talking

Always great to know my failed love life is a topic of conversation for you

Say hi to Wooyoung for me. You’re lucky I like him and don’t mind

He says hi back Also, you have to like him he is your brother in law!

Did you two get married since I saw you yesterday?

In spirit

You know what I mean Hyung

Yeah, I do
Remember we need to figure out a gift for the party. Wooyoung might as well chip in if he’s coming
Contrary to what you seem to believe, I am not made of money

Of course he is coming! Aunt Changhee loves him

True
I was thinking a scarf? It’s getting colder.

Sorry gotta go

Wooyoungie asks if he can suck my dick before we get breakfast

?!?!?
Do not tell me these things!!!

He is so polite and cute when he asks

I can’t say no!

Sorry Hyung

Stop texting me!!

♡

Hongjoong had expected San to get in contact with him, but he had not expected to find around twenty fragmented text messages as soon as he checked his phone upon waking up in the afternoon. In retrospect, he probably should have.

Hungover and with a pulsing headache he quickly saved San’s contact and tried to focus enough to reply, since it was obvious the younger man was not the most patient, urging, begging, Hongjoong to text back so they could decide on when to meet up again and discuss further action. Allegedly, San had figured it all out in the short hours between today and yesterday, was now all ‘Don’t worry, Hyung! Wooyoungie and I got you!’.

Interestingly enough Hongjoong found himself more endeared than weirded out and was in the middle of typing his reply in one (1) coherent paragraph when another message from an unknown number popped up. No hello, no nothing, just

Answer San.

Threatening in its simplicity.

Dragging himself upright on his messy bed, Hongjoong saved that one as ‘Wooyoung’ and went back to type out his message. As soon as he hit send, San spammed him with a flood of emojis, and eventually, actual words.

Hyung! We need to meet up tomorrow
It’s for the second phase of The Plan!!

Hongjoong was kind of scared of ‘The Plan’, considering going straight back to sleep. Plus, he had to disappoint in any case. Mondays were super busy for him. He was meeting with his mentor and had to coach a few of the vocal students that were working with him on his latest project and so on.

Sorry, I really can’t tomorrow. Uni stuff.

Tuesday!
It has to be Tuesday then

Love is an urgent matter!!!!!

Hongjoong actually tried to think of a way to clear his very full schedule for them, partly because simultaneously to a flood of San’s crying emojis Wooyoung texted him in their own chat.

Stop saying no to San. I know where you live.

How the fuck would Wooyoung know that? Deciding that the man was bluffing and with no way to reschedule his plans for Tuesday in any case, Hongjoong replied back to San that he is busy at the beginning of the week. He did feel bad about that. However, San’s next message lacked way too much context in Hongjoong’s opinion.

I guess we all have to make sacrifices

?

You will have to come over tonight then
BUT!

Sunday evening is Wooyoungie’s and my puzzle time

Okay?

You may come over tonight

Thank you?

Hongjoong was unsure what was expected of him there. He did have time later on, all day really, little as was left of it, but he was majorly confused where San was going with the puzzle thing. Was this code for something?

You’re welcome
I’m going to be straight up with you though
You can’t help with the puzzle that’s Wooyoung’s and my thing

Are we talking about a real puzzle?!

What kind of fake puzzles do you know?
I’m intrigued
Bring them

Wooyoung’s message from the other chat popped up at the top of the screen.

Touch the puzzle and feel my wrath.

Hongjoong hauled himself from the bed and got ready for whatever the evening would bring.

Something different for sure.

Which might actually be good, because whatever he had been doing before was clearly not working out for him.

♡

A very smiley and cosy looking San opened the door for Hongjoong a few hours and some proper food later, barely waiting long enough for him to get his shoes off before dragging him up two flights of stairs and pushing him into what must be his room.

First thing Hongjoong noticed as the door closed behind him, was that San definitely had not bothered with tidying up even though he had been expecting company over.

Second thing were the crazy number of pictures of Wooyoung San had plastered all over the room. Some had gotten an actual frame and where on the desk or nightstand, some were literally just taped on the wall and a bit wonky. San was also on a good amount of these photos—smiling at Wooyoung or kissing him— but mostly it was Wooyoung’s face over and over again.

Hongjoong would have been inclined to think that Wooyoung was San’s lost love that had passed away and whose loss he never got over, the grief forcing him to transform his room into a shrine for his late boyfriend. He would have thought that if Wooyoung was not literally sitting on the floor in front of Hongjoong, alive and well and mumbling a hello.

Third thing Hongjoong noticed was that those two were both wearing a pair of grey sweatpants. Wooyoung with a hoodie and San with a tank top, thereby both looking like the perfect cliché of a fuckboy on their own—San even wore a backwards baseball cap for fuck’s sake! —but together inexplicably also like Hongjoong’s grandparents when they decided on matching raincoats.

Fourth was an impressive collection of different lubes, flavours Hongjoong had not known existed, all shamelessly displayed up on the bedside table for easy access. Some were very empty. Peach seemed to be the favourite.

There might have been more things to take in but Hongjoong was already at his limit.

When San offered him some kind of lumpy beanbag which he had pulled in front of Wooyoung on the floor, Hongjoong dutifully let himself sink into the thing. At the same time San took his place next to his boyfriend, both criss-cross-applesauce, as they intently regarded the boxes of actual jigsaw puzzles in front of them.

So puzzle was not code for anything. Good to know.

It seemed that they were once again in their own world, which was great for Hongjoong, because it gave him time to get acclimatised and mentally prepare himself for San’s grand plan.

Wooyoung was holding up two boxes. “Which one do you want to do, Sannie?”

“The one with the little kitties,” San eagerly answered, pointing at the right one which had two kittens playing with a ball of yarn.

Wooyoung giggled. “But that’s the one we did for the past month,” he teased, already putting the other puzzle without cats to the side.

“That’s because it’s the most fun.” San snatched it up, opening the carton and unceremoniously dumping the pieces onto the floor in front of them. Out of nowhere his head snapped up, zeroing in on Hongjoong. “Or wait, did you bring your fake puzzles?”

To be honest Hongjoong had believed that message to be a joke. “Eh, no?”

Seemingly not at all upset with that answer, San nodded solemnly, helping Wooyoung turn the pieces on the floor so the right side looked up. “Probably better,” he muttered. “This is the real deal.”

“It looks cool,” Hongjoong offered, feeling the need to say something.

San smiled. “It is! Youngie got it for me for my birthday. Just give us a second. Once you have the frame of it, the rest is easy and then we can focus on you.”

Hongjoong could not help but smile back. “Take your time.”

Apparently Wooyoung felt the need to join the conversation. He looked at Hongjoong with his own honest smile, no animosity to be found. “Don’t worry, it really won’t take long. We did this one at least six times already. Sannie is really good at finding the corner pieces, you’ll see. He’s always faster than me.”

Hearing his boyfriend’s praise, it looked as if San might start floating any second. There was an honest to God blush on his face as he waved him off with a bashful but pleased, “Ah I don’t know. It’s a special talent I guess.” It was clearly something he was very proud of.

At the same time Wooyoung was watching the display with obvious hearts in his eyes, completely gone and stupid in love as his gaze stayed on San while he addressed Hongjoong. “You’ll see Hyung, he finds them all.”

In a very predictable move, a giggly San nearly fell over his own crossed legs as he tried to get his mouth on Wooyoung as fast as possible. This time Hongjoong only saw their tongues twice and counted himself lucky that they stopped on their own.

It was kind of nice that Wooyoung got up again and made him some kind of tea that he could nurse while the couple worked on the outer row together. Yet it was not like nobody was talking, they did chat a bit but mostly mundane stuff that was not too distracting. And since Hongjoong was watching them so intently—with his options being them, the lubes or the thousand pictures of Wooyoung, so easy choice really—it did not go unnoticed by Hongjoong how Wooyoung definitely picked something up that was without a doubt one of the four corner pieces. There was nothing on his face that gave it away nor did Wooyoung put it in its rightful spot. He simply inconspicuously nudged it closer to San before continuing as if nothing had happened.

When he realised that Hongjoong had caught him, his blazing eyes made it perfectly clear that he would gut him like a fish and feed him his own insides if he dared to say anything.

And when San’s excited gasp echoed around the room not even a minute later and he proudly held up that exact corner piece, Wooyoung was all over his smug, preening boyfriend, peppering kisses over his face and praising him to the moon and back.

It reminded Hongjoong why he was there. It was not even clear whether he wanted to be San or Wooyoung in the situation. That might also be the wrong question in the first place, because Hongjoong simply wanted Seonghwa, wanted to build their own dynamic, convinced that it would logically be different, but just as good—or at least had the potential to be, as soon as he found the guts to even voice a fraction of this in front of the person who mattered.

Thankfully Wooyoung and San had been right and they managed to put the frame together rather quickly with only three more kisses for San for finding the other corners but otherwise working with laser focus. Once the easiest part of the puzzle was done and you had to start really searching for pieces, San seemed more than fine to let his boyfriend do most of the work, casually pulling his phone from the pocket of Wooyoung’s hoodie.

“Okay, I’m ready. I wrote a list,” he waved the phone at Hongjoong, “because I think the first thing we should do is check whether you are actually gay.”

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong was not too sure how to feel about that, staring at San incredulously.

“Hyung, I need you to be really sure that you actually like Seonghwa before we do this.” San regarded him with a heavy amount of seriousness. “We do not want to play with his feelings.”

Wanting Seonghwa to be happy, all day every day, Hongjoong could not even be upset that his sexuality was being questioned like that. San obviously meant well.

So Hongjoong watched him as he unlocked the phone, scanning it for a second before focusing back on him with a squint. “To be honest these are more like question whether you truly are in love with him.” San shrugged. “Same thing, I guess. If you are in love with a man that’s kinda gay.”

Right...Hongjoong did like that San was protecting Seonghwa even though he was just a stranger to him, it spoke for who he was as a person, but the being gay part was actually the one thing he had managed to figure out on his own, so this seemed a bit superfluous.

Yet San was staring at him expectantly and Wooyoung had interrupted his puzzling to activate the murderous, protective boyfriend glare.

“Fine!” Hongjoong groaned out, gesturing at San to continue. “Let’s hear it.” And then, a bit mumbled under his breath. “I’ll show you how gay I am.”

San smiled brightly, already grabbing for the first part of Wooyoung he could reach because that was apparently his natural reaction to being happy. “Great! So I mostly listed some symptoms from when I first saw Wooyoung. If they are familiar to you, there is a good chance you are in love/ gay.”

Snorting a bit, Wooyoung watched his boyfriend with clear amusement. “Sannie, we literally got together the day we met, so I don’t know how representative that is, and also you’ve been gay the whole time.”

“Exactly! And now I am spreading my gay wisdom!”

“Fine.” Rolling his eyes fondly, Wooyoung picked up another puzzle piece.

“And don’t do the kitties’ faces without me. That’s my favourite part.”

“I won’t.”

“And—”

“And not the paws. I know Sannie.”

Wooyoung got another kiss for that.

“Sooo,” San said eventually, one very drawn out kiss later, lips as red as his cheeks. The phone was back in his hands so he could read the first note out loud. Hongjoong braced himself— poorly, since he could have never predicted what the other would say next.

San, who watched him with big eyes, question retrieved from his phone and ready for business. “I know it’s a bit cliché, but when you saw Seonghwa for the first time, were you thinking something along the lines of ‘This is him.’?”

“Him?”

“Yeah, you know, him.” San made a vague gesture with his hand. “The one you are going to spend the rest of your life with. The one meant for you.”

“I—,” Hongjoong had opened his mouth but not much came out, for a second he was too stunned by the gravity of San’s question. He had kind of expected to be asked whether he could see himself sucking dick (yes). But San was patiently waiting for his answer, no judgement to be found. He really wanted to know.

“Not exactly,” Hongjoong slowly started his explanation. Even though he had not been blessed with a sudden epiphany, a magic glow around Seonghwa that would have informed him of the significance, he did remember when he had first seen him, how could he not. The professor who had put them together in pairs had called Hongjoong’s name first, so he had shuffled to the front of the lecture hall until Seonghwa had been announced as his partner, who had then walked up to him, smiling and glowing, and also mercifully taking the imitative with introductions, since Hongjoong had been a bit gobsmacked.

“I got nervous around him from the beginning. More than usual even though I am always a bit awkward with strangers. I noticed that he was gorgeous, but I thought that was normal, like a reasonable observation, even for a straight guy. But the more I talked to him over the course of the project, the more I liked him, until I realised I didn’t like him. I like him. He’s smart, and kind and honestly really silly the more I get to know him.”

In a weak moment Hongjoong might even daydream that the tension was not completely one-sided. He knew that Seonghwa technically, could be into him too. When the other, in an off-handed comment, had casually dropped that he was gay, Hongjoong had short-circuited, unable to string one coherent thought together, let alone help with the lyrics for the rest of their meeting, because his crush had suddenly not been so ridiculous anymore, but rather revealed a hidden potential. The same second Hongjoong had logically realised the preposterousness of the idea. A sacrilege. Seonghwa had standards, as he should. Hongjoong was sure that the man always had clean sheets, probably also a few nice candles, and knew how to cook. When Seonghwa said he liked men, he surely meant men that could match his level of magnificence. Though Hongjoong did not say this to Wooyoung and San, not in those exact words at least.

“So no, I guess I was not immediately thinking ‘It’s him’,” he continued, mumbling, head low. “I don’t even know about the forever part, but it keeps creeping up on me, slowly, and even now, I would not dare thinking anything as decisive, because I’m not sure he would ever like me back. I hope he does, I can’t help it. He’s all I think about.”

Finishing his awkward mumbling, Hongjoong looked up to find San had intertwined his hand with Wooyoung’s, appearing genuinely touched and pleased with his words. Even Wooyoung looked at him differently.

“That’s a good answer,” Wooyoung said calmly.

Meanwhile San was close to getting all choked-up. “I agree. Approved. Seonghwa would be lucky to have you.”

“Oh hm.” Great, now Hongjoong was also blushing. “Thanks guys.” Wanting to take the attention off himself, he turned the conversation around, already having realised that neither of them would ever skip an opportunity to talk about the other.

“Did you really know that Wooyoung was it for you when you first saw him? I kind of thought that was a myth for Romance books.”

As expected, both of them turned all mushy as the memories took a visible hold of them. Slowly lifting their intertwined hands, San pressed a soft kiss to Wooyoung’s knuckles, voice low as he held his gaze. “Yeah, I really did. Look at him, how could I not?”

Wooyoung appeared as if he was about to either spontaneously combust into a pink supernova or jump San’s bones right then and there. This kiss was shorter but not less.

San was shaking himself out of it surprisingly fast, turning back, continuing with something Hongjoong had not even known he needed to hear. “But that doesn’t mean you and Seonghwa are not meant to be,” San said gently. “It’s okay if you realised a bit later. People are different and situations are different, so you have to give everyone some grace. S—my older brother always says that.”

It was the much needed reminder that, despite it all, Hongjoong should not compare himself to Wooyoung and San. People were different, situations were different. He liked that.

“Your brother sounds smart.”

San grinned. “He is. Back to you though. I have more on my list!”

“I thought you said my answer was good enough?!”

“Yes, but how was I supposed to know you would get the first one right?! I wrote so much more!”

“Yeah!” Wooyoung chimed in, also back to business. “Let him read his list!”

Rolling his eyes, Hongjoong exaggeratedly threw his hands up. “Fine! One more question.”

“Yay! Okay, so what do you think about Seonghwa’s feet?”

For a second, Hongjoong just stared.

“That’s your question?!”

San nodded, obviously not seeing the issue. “Yes. You see, I personally don’t really like feet, but Wooyoung’s are fine.”

Wooyoung’s voice was dry as he cut in, not even looking up from the puzzle. “Wow, ‘fine’, thank you.”

“Sorry, that’s the best I can do, baby. Yours are the only ones who ever made it all the way up to ‘fine’ though!” San tried to appease him.

Naturally it worked immediately and having evidently also seen that Wooyoung was now wearing an actually rather adorable smile, hiding it by pretending to be busy with the puzzle, San was quick to continue talking to Hongjoong. “Feet are just weird, okay? Like, I would not let you in my room with your socks off, but I even touched Wooyoung’s naked feet before and literally had no reaction to it. It was crazy!” San smiled serenely, somehow this was also a fond memory. “Guess why that is,” he suddenly prompted Hongjoong as if this was a pop quiz, pointing the phone in his direction, catching him a bit off guard.

“Ehm...because you love him?”

“Yes!” San shouted and then added “I’d be such a good teacher” under his breath, which was followed by a louder: “Ergo, if you think Seonghwa’s feet are fine, that would be a clear sign.”

Hongjoong nodded, encouraging him, because why the fuck not. “I see your logic.”

San preened.

“I’ve never seen Seonghwa’s feet though.”

San’s face turned crestfallen.

“Aw man, I haven’t thought about that.”

He looked so sad. Like a kicked Puppy. Hongjoong kind of understood why Wooyoung seemed willing to move heaven and earth to keep him happy.

“Don’t worry about it, San,” he said gently. “You raised some really good points, but I promise you, I am super sure about the gay thing.”

Hongjoong’s reassurance as well as Wooyoung handing him a puzzle piece with a little kitten nose had San back to smiling within seconds, content to the point where Hongjoong deemed it safe to ask whether they could move on to the reason why he had come over in the first place.

“So if this was phase two, does your plan have a phase three?” Ideally one that included a surefire way to win Seonghwa over, all smooth and with a guaranteed positive outcome.

“Oh yeah!” San smiled, straightening up and even lifting his hand of Wooyoung. Now they were both up front, emphasising his words. “Okay so, what you are going to do is this...”

Hongjoong leaned in, afraid to miss something. His whole body tensed, knuckles white over the empty tea mug, because this was it. Finally no more longing, no more embarrassing stares and stutters. San seemed so sure, his plan had to be good.

“First you are going to walk up to Seonghwa...”

“Yes?” Hongjoong urged, dangerously close to toppling over.

“You go up to him...”

Yes? Yes!?

“And then you tell him how you feel!” San concluded with an excited smile. He was now leaning forward on his hands, happy and grinning, only missing the tail wagging behind him, obviously believing to have come up with the most ingenious plan, and while hugely disappointed, Hongjoong did not have it in him to crush San’s spirit with a mean answer. Wooyoung did not even need to threaten him.

Slumping back into the beanbag, Hongjoong gave him a tired smile for effort. He took all the hope he had so foolishly let grow and crammed it back into his little heart, where it belonged, where it got nourished without purpose. He was not even sure what he had been expecting.

“Just so I understand you correctly, you want me to simply go up to him and say ‘Hey Seonghwa, I think you’re awesome and I’m kind of in love with you?”

“Yes!” San shouted, close to vibrating.

“And then?” Because even if he managed that—and that was a big IF— Hongjoong was pretty sure it would end with him dying on the spot, or liquifying in embarrassment and soaking into the earth while Seonghwa watched his pathetic state with pity, but also secret elation that he did not have to voice his rejection. Hongjoong’s untimely death the best outcome for both of them.

Wooyoung opened his mouth to answer his question, or say something else, but San was gesturing to him with one hand raised, a clear, non-verbal ‘I got this baby’.

“And then you kiss with tongue!” He eagerly explained. “If his tongue his half as nice as Wooyoungie’s your life will be changed.”

“Aww.”

Hongjoong pretended to gag. It’s not like they saw, since a second after Wooyoung’s endeared exclamation, they were already all over each other again, San too busy refamiliarizing himself with the allegedly life altering tongue.

Closing his eyes for a second to calm himself, Hongjoong simply waited until the wet noises stopped. When they did and he dared a peek, San was staring at him expectantly while Wooyoung was back to puzzling.

“San,” he began carefully. “In theory that is a great plan. The best really, but I can’t. Like I physically can’t. There were so many occasions I wanted to ask him out, but I completely froze up. I want to, but I can’t,” Hongjoong urged him to understand. It made sense that San had trouble accepting his position, since apparently all he had to do was lock eyes with Wooyoung and suddenly their futures magically arranged around infinite kisses, cat puzzles, lube collections, and whatever else those two dreamed about, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa were not like that okay? What had happened to people were different and that was fine?

There was a good chance Seonghwa did not even see him as a friend, but rather as the random group partner for a project he was forced to do, because on paper, that was exactly what Hongjoong was to him. Meeting every week, but always on Thursdays from two to four. Talking regularly, but mostly about a forced topic.

“I can’t just confess to him, San,” he repeated.

“Yes, you can!”

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

“He will! He does!”

Hongjoong met San’s determined, scrunched up face with an honest, albeit tired, smile. It was really nice of the younger to put so much faith in him.

“You can’t know that San,” he reminded him gently. No one knew what Seonghwa thought of him and yes, Hongjoong knew that he was the main problem in this equation, too chicken shit too simply ask because the odds were not in his favour.

In front of him, San looked more frustrated than he had seen him yet, apparently at loss for words. It should not have come as a surprise to Hongjoong that Wooyoung took over once San was at the end of his wit.

“Hyung,” he began all serious, locking eyes with him as he rubbed San’s neck to sooth his anxious form. “Tell him how you feel.” It seemed that Wooyoung thought he could force him by sheer will alone.

In his defence, he had known Hongjoong for a day and therefore could not know that he was as stubborn as they come. It was great for pursuing a career in music, but not so much for most other things.

“I can’t,” Hongjoong said once more, now more petulant than depressed. It was more about the principle by this point. He could have come up with this ‘plan’.

“Do it,” Wooyoung scowled.

Hongjoong turned his nose up. “You can’t force me.”

“I’ll find a way.”

“I doubt it.”

“This kinda sucks.”

“You’re so right, Sannie baby. It’s Hongjoong’s fault though.”

“I can’t, okay?”

An impasse.

♡

San figured elaborate plans were fine and cool if you were an evil mastermind trying to take over the world, but if it was just two Hyungs refusing to talk, a straightforward approach was best.

Unfortunately, the straightforward approach, no matter how many attempts, always ended with Hongjoong swearing up and down that he just couldn’t and San internally losing it. It had started with one Sunday evening and was by now spanning multiple weeks. The words HE DOES LIKE YOU! HE TOLD ME SO! were burning his throat, but he was not allowed to say them to Hongjoong. San took his promises seriously.

And in this case, he had made promises to both Hyungs.

So the meet-ups with Hongjoong got continued and over the course of weeks they turned into regular hangouts—unpaid therapy sessions as Wooyoung liked to call it—were the both of them tried to convince Hongjoong to confess his feelings and the older pretended he could not hear them before he went on and on about how Seonghwa smiled at him that day, or he lamented about the agony of longing.

Hopeless, obsessed idiot, Wooyoung would grumble.

True yearning, San would call it, all soft and ever the hopeless romantic.

In any case, San had of course met all of his brother’s ex- boyfriends, and with either their descriptions Hongjoong would fit right into the ranks—only hopefully without the ‘ex’ part if the man ever made it that far.

They had just gotten back to San’s room after having a coffee with Hongjoong and the mood was a bit subdued. Wooyoung shuffled into the room right in front of San, dragging his feet before collapsing onto the bed face first. His whining was muffled by the blanket.

Wooyoung lay all splayed out on his stomach which meant there was only one possible course of action. San accelerated his steps, scrambling after him onto the mattress, plopping down, ensuring that his face would land straight in Wooyoung’s ass.

“Sannie!” Came the immediate amused shriek.

“Hmpf.”

“Get out of there!” Wooyoung laughed, shuffling and pushing a disgruntled San away with a hand in his face. Though kind as he was, Wooyoung immediately turned on his side, helping San find a more comfortable position with his head squished between his thighs, face free to breathe but otherwise all warm and cosy. San approved. This was also very nice.

Above him Wooyoung was also settling in a comfortable position, stuffing a pillow under his head and pulling his phone out, probably checking his messages, free hand playing with San’s hair. Very nice.

Yet the frustrating conversation was still on San’s mind. “Wooyoung, baby,” he whined, picking up where they had left off on the way back. “Why won’t he just tell him? What else can we do?”

“To be honest, nothing really. If he doesn’t want to talk it’s not our place to force him,” Wooyoung gently reminded him, one finger tracing the shell of his ear. “You could try with Seonghwa I guess. We haven’t really talked to him about this.” His voice turned more contemplative. “He can’t know that we know, though, and he somehow always knows everything so it’s a bit tricky I guess.”

The seriousness of the warning went right above San’s head as he started scheming again. Talking to Seonghwa instead of Hongjoong...maybe that could actually work.

“Right, you’re so smart, baby,” San kissed the inside of his thigh. Wooyoung could probably not feel it that much with the fabric in the way but that was beside the point. “I’ll text him with a hint. Something super subtle.”

San was already pulling his own phone out, angling it so that he could see and text in this position, not at all upset that Wooyoung now had both hands on his phone, letting San do his thing and only squeezing his head in support.

Hyung How sure are you that your straight music genius is straight?!

Hello to you too San. How my week was? Oh I’ve been doing okay. How about you?

Squinting at the chat, San, of course, saw this for what it was.

“He is dodging the question,” he informed Wooyoung.

“Send it again. You can be very persistent, baby. I believe in you.”

Wooyoung believed in him! San would not give up!!

How sure are you that your straight music genius is straight?!

Very

How would you know

You can’t actually see the gay, Hyung

That’s a stereotype You told me

Gay people are people

If you must know. I asked around.

Last year he turned Doyun down with the words “Sorry, I’m straight”

Hmm That is suspicious Wait a second

San needed to confer with Wooyoung here. It really was a tricky situation because he knew his brother would love knowing he was Hongjoong’s gay awakening, but unfortunately the timing was not working out in these two’s favour.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” Despite the phone in the other hand Wooyoung sneaked one down to give San the nice head scratches to let him know he had his attention.

“Someone told Seonghwa that Doyun said that Hongjoong said he is straight.”

“Hmmm,” the hum was longer, more considering. San liked that Wooyoung was really thinking about this. It was important to him, so it was important to his boyfriend and that felt pretty damn nice.

“That kinda sucks even if Hongjoong Hyung believed that. To be honest, before I had you, I also used the straight excuse just to let a few guys down gently. Or I guess, gentler.”

San gasped, phone already back in his hand, thumbs flying over the touchscreen.

“That works!”

What if he only said that because it’s an easy excuse??!

Like to let poor Doyun down gently.

A gay person might say ‘sorry I’m straight’!

You never know Hyung!!!

They might

Another gasp. Full of suspense, basically feeling the long awaited breakthrough in the air, San’s finger dug into the phone and squishy fat of Wooyoung’s thigh under his cheek as he watched the dots as Seonghwa typed.

But do you know who would also say that?
A straight person, San

Aw man.

Pouting, San was not ready to fully accepted defeat. It was always good to keep the door open so he could come back to it with new arguments—if they ever came to him.

Hmm I don’t know

I need to think about this

You do that

So this had not really worked out the way San had imagined it. In fact, it had crashed pretty quickly which meant it took him no time at all to fill Wooyoung in on what his brother had said.

With Hongjoong so stubborn and scared, and Seonghwa for some incomprehensible reason insisting on facts and logic, the development was more than frustrating. One did not need to be his soulmate to figure out that San was getting increasingly more unhappy with the situation, but Wooyoung was, and knew therefore better than anyone.

“Sannie, you’re too in your head about this. You need to relax.”

“I’m bad at relaxing.” Pouting some more, San leaned into the head scratches, positively starved for affection when he was feeling down. Perhaps it was their position, but suddenly he had another flash of genius. “You know what would make me relax?” He asked eagerly, craning his neck so he could see Wooyoung’s pretty face. “If we fucked. Nothing more relaxing than that, baby.”

Snorting, probably at his predictability, Wooyoung traced the slope of his nose to soften the blow. “I have a lecture in an hour, so no can do, Sannie.”

World crumbling around him, San whined in absolute despair, hiding his face in the other’s pants. The “but I really really want to” sounded a bit muffled.

“I do too, but I can’t miss this lecture.”

“I can be quick!” San argued eagerly, feeling all hopeful and excited.

Another snort. “No you can’t.”

“Yes, I can!”

“Sannie. I love you. I do. More than literally anything, in fact. But I tried to explain the concept of a quickie to you more times than I can count. We’re not doing this again.”

Sulking, San went back to hiding his face in Wooyoung’s crotch. “I like to take my time making love to you,” he grumbled. “How is that wrong?!”

Fondness evident in his voice, Wooyoung pulled him up and San went willingly. Now they were face to face, Wooyoung warm and familiar beneath him, just like the sensation of the softest lips against his.

“It’s not wrong,” Wooyoung said, followed by a kiss. “I love it.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “We can fuck all slow and sweet later, promise.” Another kiss, much longer and thorough, Wooyoung slotting his mouth against his and licking against his lower lip just like San liked it. He was appeased.

San understood commitments and being responsible as adults with obligations. He really did. Who did not though, was his dick. It was already filling out where he was pressed against Wooyoung and San could not even fault it for it; it was a condition response at this point and fuck did his boyfriend look good today.

One large hand on San’s chest, Wooyoung was already pushing him back a bit, laughing because he had also noticed that San’s pants had become a tad tighter. “No sex, Sannie. I really need to go get ready. Even a blowjob would be risky.”

It was evidently just an offhanded comment, an added example to emphasise how little time they had. San perked up like a dog having heard his favourite word.

“Blowjob?”

Wooyoung was studying his hopeful expression for exactly two seconds before the hand on San’s chest grabbed his shirt almost violently, pulling him in where he connected their mouths into another deep kiss. His words were mumbled between spit and tongues. “Okay...fine...what the hell. You can suck me off. Quickly.”

San pulled back to smile at him, all wide and honest and dimply, sneaky hands already in the process of getting his into his boyfriend’s pants.

“Sweet!”

♡

Hongjoong belatedly realised that San had this way of derailing a conversation just far enough that you had no clue where you were going and in the confusion of it all you were at his mercy. It was as if he was leading you into a dark labyrinth until you got too lost to be picky for a guide, so you had no choice but to follow San, uncaring that he was the one who got you there in the first place. That was Hongjoong’s best guess on why he made his way back to the frathouse on another Saturday.

He did not feel like partying. He felt like locking himself into his room with his laptop, a soundboard, and compose the most depressing track the world had ever seen. Yet San had used his fairy fratboy magic and derailed Hongjoong into attending. The base of it was a dangerous mix of pouting and actually valid arguments, and the other option was facing Wooyoung’s wrath for not treating San like the reason for living he believed him to be. Hongjoong was not adequately equipped to fight such forces.

Besides, last Thursday during his usual meet up with Seonghwa the other had told Hongjoong he would be out of town for the weekend to go to an old friend’s birthday so at least he did not have to worry about running into him.

Though Hongjoong kind of really wanted run into him—in a better world, where he was brave.

In this world, the real world, Hongjoong arrived fashionably late. As a consequence, the house was already trashed (expected) and Wooyoung and San were properly drunk (not so expected). Though Hongjoong probably should not have been that surprised because they were still two men in their early twenties who had joined a frat out of their own volition.

“Hongjoong Hyungie!” San screamed at him as he stepped into the room, crashing into his side and immediately wrapping an arm around his shoulder to steer him to the table with peer pong he had come from. “Will you play with us?!”

It was phrased as a question, but San clearly had not meant it that way. He dropped an already overwhelmed Hongjoong off at one end of the table where Jongho greeted him with a calm “S’up dude.”

Meanwhile San was joining a giggly Wooyoung at the other side. He stumbled into his boyfriend who was just as unsteady, barely able to keep him upright. San’s face was very red as he pressed a wet thank you kiss to his cheek.

Wooyoung appeared slightly less trashed than San but was clearly also drunk. Holding onto the tiny balls his little smile turned evil as he zeroed in on their opponents. “Prepare to be OBLIBERATED!”

San stared cheering at the top of his lungs.

Hongjoong turned to Jongho, hoping for an easy out, but found the younger screaming just as loudly, throwing out some very creative taunts that had the couple doubling over in laughter. Alright then. Hongjoong had not really intended to drink much but with Wooyoung and San clearly sluggish and intoxicated it was not like he had to fear anything from a simple round of peer pong.

Wrong. Very, very, wrong.

Not even ten minutes later Hongjoong found himself chugging the third cup of room temperature beer, Wooyoung and San celebrating at the other side of the table.

How the fuck were they so good at this? Especially Wooyoung’s aim was scarily accurate and whenever one of the little balls went into a cup both of them celebrated as if they had just won an actual war.

Plop. The next already went into one of the four remaining red cups and Jongho fished the little ball out of it with a sigh before downing the contents of one. Meanwhile Wooyoung and San were doing some kind of elaborate handshake that ended with a chest bump and more hollering from their side.

Feeling the effects of the alcohol, Hongjoong could not help thinking that if he had met them like this, the cliché of a rowdy fratboy, he would have thought twice before seeking their advice—then again, they were in a stable, happy relationship, and had been for years so Hongjoong should probably stop putting people into tiny, labelled boxes and expecting them to stay there.

Plop. Plop. Plop. Two throws from Wooyoung, one from San, and Jongho and he had not even gotten a chance for retaliation.

The couple’s victory scream was ear shattering even with the music and Hongjoong did a pinched face as he chugged his cup—Jongho heroically taking the other two, when the cheering suddenly stopped short. Hongjoong had a good guess what had shut them up so suddenly and was proven correct when he lowered the empty cup. Wooyoung and San were already sucking on each other’s tongues again, this time with the tiny alteration that Wooyoung was lifted up and held by his ass and waist, limbs wrapped around San. By this point Hongjoong was buzzed enough to bear it with fond exasperation.

“We won!” Wooyoung suddenly screamed again, ending the kiss and throwing both hands in the air.

San—though swaying dangerously—managed to hold him as he smiled. “We’re so cool!” He agreed, pure awe on his face as he craned his neck back to stare at his boyfriend.

“The coolest!” A very giggly and very tipsy Wooyoung supplied. Then, without explanation or warning, he repositioned his arms around San, wiggling and attempting to climb on his back.

“Ah careful Young-ah!”

It seemed that it was very important to Wooyoung to get there without touching the floor—or at least that was Hongjoong’s interpretation of the scene. It was either that or Wooyoung was trying to strangle his boyfriend and that seemed highly unlikely.

To San’s credit, he tried his best, but Wooyoung was not that much smaller. “Young-ah I’m dizzy,” San complained, at the same time trying to stick his right arm around the other’s stomach to help, leaning forward to distribute the weight more evenly. “I’m—Ack!” Hongjoong flinched more than San did when he saw the knee meeting the man’s side, Wooyoung now halfway to his goal but never closer to being dropped to the floor.

“Don’t lemme fall!” He whined, grabbing at his boyfriend’s shirt.

“I’m trying, baby. How about you get down for—”

“NO!” Wooyoung’s voice reached an impressive volume, some heads turning. “Like this Sannie!”

When it looked as if he might actually fall on his head, Hongjoong darted forward, intending to help. As he reached out in order to give Wooyoung a lift, he heard Jongho’s voice pipe up from behind his back.

“Careful! He—”

“AH!” Hongjoong snatched his arm back, rubbing the part that hurt.

“—bites when he’s drunk.” Jongho finished.

“You’re drunk!”

Ignoring Wooyoung’s slurred comment, Hongjoong shook off the surprise—he had not actually bitten him very hard—but was still a bit flabbergasted because biting? Really? Were they five?

“He doesn’t bite San!” The moment the words left his mouth, Hongjoong realised how stupid the comment was. Of course San got special treatment.

“No he definitely bites him too,” Jongho laughed, renewing his confusion.

“I don’t mind!” San cheerfully supplied, jumping a bit to hoist Wooyoung up all the way.

And just like that they had somehow managed it. San now carrying a happy Wooyoung on his back, preening as his boyfriend was giggling and swinging his feet, taking the backwards baseball cap from San’s head and putting it on his own so he had the space to nuzzle his neck.

Where he promptly bit him.

“Ow!” San laughed, pinching Wooyoung’s thigh to make him let go.

Wooyoung was joining the laughter, creating a perfect harmony, until his face suddenly fell, eyes suspiciously shiny. “Sannie!” He whimpered.

“What? What is it love?!”

“Can’t kiss you like this! Pull me back around!”

Groaning, Hongjoong decided they were on their own with this when San started the whole procedure backwards. He turned towards Jongho who had also been watching them.

“I think I need something stronger.”

♡

Jongho gave him two shots of vodka and an ear to vent—not his own though.

The frat president himself had handed him the alcohol, carefully observed that Hongjoong actually downed it and then steered him to an unknown stranger with bleach blond hair.

“This is Yeosang,” he had said.

And that was how Hongjoong had ended up with a Yeosang. Or more like Yeosang ended up with him. Alcohol loosened his tongue way too much and Hongjoong was already too deep into the story of his gay awakening when he realised that Yeosang had never asked him anything. He was really quiet, that guy. Great listener though, it had to be said. His pretty pokerface gave you the feeling that he just got you, you know?

Hongjoong talked and talked and talked.

At some point Yunho materialised, listening in, but while clearly evil and having yet to answer for his crimes, he already knew everything, so Hongjoong just let him. Besides, this time there was no meddling—or at least no meddling that Hongjoong knew of. A terrifying thought he resolutely ignored. He was busy oversharing.

Wooyoung and San eventually reappeared, shooing away some random people to make space for them on the other couch, further encouraging Hongjoong’s rambling by conditioning alone. They were stacked on top of one another, giggling and content as they mostly tried to follow his jumbled recollection of the past weeks. Probably merely out of politeness since they had heard it all before.

San was clearly a lightweight, the flush evident even in the dark room. For some reason he kept throwing Wooyoung little finger hearts or even did one with his cheek. It did not necessarily matter to San whether his boyfriend was looking at him in that moment but when Wooyoung did catch one of those, boy oh boy, one would think every formed heart was a monument in Wooyoung’s honour.

After a short while, completely desensitized by this point, Hongjoong watched them lazily make out on the couch while he informed Yeosang and Yunho that he and Seonghwa had stayed for a whole half hour after their last lecture. Chatting with each other! Would you believe that!

Hongjoong talked and talked, maybe also drank a little more, like a complete idiot who apparently could tell literally everyone everything, no boundaries, except for Seonghwa.

Another two beers later he realised that Wooyoung and San were missing.

Hongjoong squinted at the empty spot on the couch, sluggishly pawing at Yunho’s arm to get his attention. “Where’s Wooyoung and San?”

Unbothered as Hongjoong had come to know him, Yunho shrugged. “Depends on how much time has passed since they left,” he stated. “I didn’t pay attention.”

Hongjoong did not either. He could only offer the most vague guess.

“Halfs hour?” He tried, the words heavy and clumsy on his tongue. He really needed to sober up and get himself home.

Yunho was also a very straightforward person. “Half an hour? Yeah, no they’re definitely fucking.”

Hongjoong was not sure why he had even bothered asking.

♡

If this was the same faith people carried for their gods, San could understand religion. The alcohol was fucking with his balance, his legs a bit uncooperative as he made a conscious effort to put one in front of the other. It had the potential to be a bit unnerving, to not be in full control of your body. It could be scary or concerning but never actually was, because Wooyoung was holding his hand, slowly and with meticulous care guiding him up the two flights of stairs. The random giggles and the occasional bump into the wall made it evident that he was also still working through the effects of the alcohol, but they had this unspoken agreement to always worry about the other first.

Today they had really overdone it with the drinking, not even attempting their usual game, and San was sure they would regret it in only a few hours when the hangover would kick in. Yet right now he was still following Wooyoung, the hand not actually needed for the pull. San was entranced as he stumbled after his love. He did not want sleep or water or air. The things San wanted right now were promised to him by pretty eyes, one slightly different than the other.

It was true that Wooyoung and he had immediately recognised something in the other, had dared to speak it into existence on that first crucial day of uni when other people had still been carrying boxes onto campus or stammering their way through awkward introductions. Yet Wooyoung and San had not jumped into sex that day, inherently sensing that many others would follow.

They had kissed, of course, but their first time had happened a bit later, a bit exactly like this.

Next to their bed San dutifully raised his arms so Wooyoung could slowly strip the shirt off him. He shuddered when soft lips slowly trailed down his exposed skin. Wooyoung’s hair was soft between his fingers, even darker with the lights killed. A soft groan carried on San’s next exhale as his head tipped back when Wooyoung took him in his mouth.

In a short while San would mirror the actions. He would pull his love up and then kneel without hesitation, only wanting to worship the one real thing he believed in without restrictions. Then, right when an earnest prayer in the form of his name would reach him, San would lay him down, kiss him exactly like he always did and carefully open him up for him.

They might argue a bit about what lube to use, or Wooyoung might whine when San is not doing it fast enough for his liking, afraid he might hurt him. If not today, then on another, there would be too many times for these things to not happen again.

Though San was certain that right now they would take their time. Hips stuttering, he imagined Wooyoung looking up at him from the pillows, the intense contact when San first pushed in. He wanted to really savour it, make love to Wooyoung in every interpretation he could come up with.

San would clean them up afterwards. Most likely a half assed job, because alcohol and post orgasmic bliss was one hell of a goodnight tea.

Wooyoung would brush a kiss against his chest and San would press his lips to his hair.

San was not sure if they had plans for tomorrow— technically today—if he should set an alarm. Hell, he had never been good at remembering stuff like that or planning things in general.

Especially abstract concepts like his future, things he should definitely consider in detail because you had to prepare and work for it, had always evade San when he way younger. He knew he would need to find a job after uni and most likely buy a car at some point like a real adult. There was also definitely grey hair waiting for him, San had seen the men of his family, but everything was so vague and hypothetical and all ‘maybe, maybe not’—or it had been up until three years ago.

Pulling Wooyoung up from the floor and letting it all unfold exactly as imagined, San saw his future clear as day.

♡

Another weekend, a different fratparty. This time Hongjoong swore it would be the last one, lessons learned and all that, but somehow Wooyoung and San had become actual friends of his, persistent and occasionally sweet as they could be, and there were only so many times he could say no to them.

Except when they started talking about their sex life. Then Hongjoong’s no was still loud, repeated and groaned in despair as he tried plugging his ears. Wooyoung and San had seemingly never heard of the concept of shame. Even worse, they claimed this was good for Hongjoong, because Seonghwa or no Seonghwa, now that he was gay, he logically should know all about the wonders of gay sex. They really meant well; it was their secret weapon.

When Hongjoong arrived at the frathouse, the party had already been going on for a few hours, the hallways dark and cramped, the smell of cheap beer stronger than should be possible. There was a good chance something had spilled.

Hongjoong was immediately attacked by flashbacks.

Equally scared and hopeful he was scanning the passing faces with the help of some randomly placed purple lava lamps, wondering whether Seonghwa would be attending this one. It was probably for the best if he didn’t.

Hongjoong really craved a drink, but he had sworn to himself to get through this evening sober so as to keep all his secrets to himself. He clearly was a liability when intoxicated. Plus, he was not planning to stay long. The game plan was: find Wooyoung and San, show support for their frat activities as a friend, NO peer pong, then go home, jerk off to fantasies of Seonghwa, sleep. A simple Saturday evening for a simple man.

The plan went up in smoke and a stuttering heart when he walked into the common room of the flat, because thankfully it should all happen differently, and it should do so now.

The first thing Hongjoong spotted in the crowded room was Seonghwa. The man was sitting on one of the windowsills, for some inexplicable reason completely alone, scrolling on his phone. Even the harsh white light of the display did nothing to diminish his beauty. If anything it made him look even more like an angel, face illuminated, the brightest spot in the crowd.

Naturally, Hongjoong panicked. Heart lurching, stomach turning, blood suddenly carbonated and twice as fast in his veins. Afraid that Seonghwa would look up any second to find him leering, he turned on the spot and—oh thank God. There were Wooyoung and San right on the other side, but oh. Hongjoong froze once again.

Over there Wooyoung and San were both leaning against the wall, facing each other. Wooyoung was the only one resting his head against it as he looked up at San. By their standards, they were not even touching, for them, this was as PG as Hongjoong had ever seen them. Wooyoung had both hands around his beer between them, San had one hand on his own bottle, the other casually resting on his boyfriend’s hip and they were just...looking at each other. No words, no awkwardness. Soft smiles, softer recognition.

Hongjoong was well aware that there were other forms of intimacy besides sex, but actually encountering it, seeing that it was real and out there in the world to be found, was a completely different matter.

Genuinely flustered, Hongjoong found himself reflexively averting his eyes to give them privacy, because even though they most likely would not care, that moment was not meant for him.

Be it by fate, luck or probability Hongjoong’s eyes landed on Seonghwa. And suddenly he was hit with such a sudden wave of want, stronger than ever before. He wanted what Wooyoung and San had, and he wanted it with Seonghwa.

Hongjoong began walking. Fuck it. Time to be brave.

♡

Time to be brave but certainly not time to be smooth.

“Hi,” Hongjoong squeaked out when he came to a halt right in front of Seonghwa, already regretting his entire existence. What had he been thinking?! He was way too awkward for this! He had never talked to Seonghwa outside their university or in the evening, when the night made his face all bewitching and real. What was he supposed to do with his arms?! Fuck, he should have gotten a beer first, then his hands could have held the beer!! That’s why people were drinking!! SOS—

“Hongjoong! Hi.”

Oh God, it got even worse, Seonghwa was smiling at him. He had put his phone away and was now standing right in front

of Hongjoong, returning his greeting and appearing genuinely excited to see him. There were no words for such blessings. Hongjoong kept starring.

“I did not know you went to parties,” Seonghwa continued. “Or that you do much else besides music.”

“Ah, eh. Yeah, I like parties. Sometimes. Sometimes I like parties. They have music. Sometimes.”

Where was the spontaneous liquifying when you needed it? Hongjoong was ready for his now.

“True. I also like that about parties. That they have music. Sometimes.” Seonghwa chuckled, clearly teasing him but somehow managing to do so in a way that was way too kind and way too pretty.

What he unfortunately did not do, was give Hongjoong anything more to work with. Shit. His useless brain was running hundred miles an hour and Hongjoong could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades and in his socks as he tried to come up with literally any conversation topic. He would forever blame San for what left his mouth next.

“Soo,” he said exactly as awkwardly as it felt. His hands were now also sweating. “How do you know Jongho?”

“Jongho?” Seonghwa’s brows furrowed, the confusion palpable as he rightfully questioned how that was relevant right now.

As far as Hongjoong saw it, the only way out was forward. He tried the whole faking confidence thing, and maybe another smile. “Yeah? Uh, everyone knows him, right?”

“I guess,” Seonghwa conceded slowly, still watching him a bit warily. Thankfully he quickly caught himself, pretty face back to the kind smile Hongjoong had come to adore. “Jongho is the president of my brother’s frat,” Seonghwa informed him.

Praise to every higher being! A conversation topic! Hongjoong jumped on it like a feral squirrel seeing the last nut of the year.

“I didn’t know you had a brother!”

“Yeah, little brother, just two years younger. Pain in the ass, but unfortunately his pout is lethal and he knows it. He’s over there with his boyfriend.”

Turning, Hongjoong’s eyes followed the direction in which Seonghwa’s finger was pointing, but he only saw Wooyoung and San.

“Where?” He asked, gaze roaming left and right but on both sides were only giggling groups of girls.

Seonghwa’s pointing got more insistent. “Right over there. The guys who can’t stop touching for the life of them.”

Hongjoong went eerily still.

“The taller one is my brother San, and the other is his boyfriend Wooyoung.”

“SAN IS YOUR BROTHER?!”

What the actual fuck?! Spinning around Hongjoong mouth stood wide open, gawking at poor Seonghwa who had no clue what was going on. In the aftermath of this bomb, a few parts of him came unhinged.

“Yes?” Seonghwa replied carefully, seemingly more than worried for Hongjoong in his frazzled state. “Do you know him?”

Did Hongjoong know him? Did Hongjoong know San!?

“Yeah, I know him!” He cried out, internal meltdown now out in the open. Very freeing. “Do I know him? Do I know him?! Oh, I don’t know, he just spent the past weeks testing my gayness and begging me to tell you—” His mouth snapped shut, some internal failsafe that jumped in about three seconds too late. Frozen solid, mortified what he had just let slip, Hongjoong’s brain tried to do damage control, ensuring him that he had said nothing too incriminating, Seonghwa did not know what he had meant, he could not possibly know, he—

Oh shit. Judging by the wide eyed gaze which suddenly started scanning his miserable form more intently, Seonghwa was apparently exactly as smart as Hongjoong liked to rave about.

“You’re gay?” Was the first thing Seonghwa said, no time for niceties.

Scared shitless, eyes shiny, Hongjoong could only nod.

“I thought you were straight?”

To his credit, Hongjoong managed a few actual words, his voice tiny. “Me too. But I’m not. I’m really not.” He tried to convey with his eyes what he actually meant to say.

Seonghwa sucked in a breath, dark eyes impossibly going even wider. For a short while they were stuck in the moment, the words it had brought.

And then Seonghwa kissed him.

Holy shit, Seonghwa was kissing him.

No preamble, just two strong hands grabbing his face and pulling him forward. Hongjoong squeaked when he suddenly found his lips pressed to Seonghwa’s, going cross-eyed and not seeing much because Seonghwa was so close, because Seonghwa was kissing him.

Then his eyes fell shut, as Hongjoong gave into the experience, returning the soft contact against his lips. Yet when he really gave it his all, had just began to notice how the other smelled or how this was by far the best kiss he ever experienced (he was so fucking gay), that was when Seonghwa suddenly pulled back. He was still holding Hongjoong by his face, only a breath apart as they locked eyes.

“Okay?” Seonghwa asked, chest heaving.

Hongjoong’s answer consisted of frantic nodding and dragging him back down again. Now Seonghwa’s lips were back where they belonged, right against his.

He whined when the other dared to pull back again.

This time Seonghwa hit his shoulder, shouting. “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

Hongjoong was in no state for conversation. “I...you...me...you.”

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa pulled him in again. This time the word was mumbled against Hongjoong’s lips, between licks and nips. It was the only acceptable way from here on out.

“Idiot.”

♡

“Should we...help him?”

“It looks like he is eating Hongjoong Hyung.”

“Nah. This is literally his wet dream coming true. He told me.”

Tearing his gaze away from their intertwined Hyungs, Wooyoung cocked his eyebrow at Yunho.

“He told you about his wet dreams?”

Yunho shrugged. “He was drunk.”

“Fair enough.”

Rearranging San’s heavy arms around his waist, Wooyoung leaned back into his boyfriend’s hold, refocusing on the scene in front of them. It did look a bit like Seonghwa was eating the other, San was right. It was like the metaphorical car crash where you could not look away and Wooyoung did not need to rewatch his and San’s sex tape to know they looked sooo much better when making out.

However, with all the important things commented on, Wooyoung, San and Yunho were now simply watching the two men kiss, not too bothered by the apparent lack of finesse, fully turned towards them, no intention to pretend they were doing anything else. When Yunho had come over a few moments prior he had simply pulled at them until they could see what was going on, see that Hongjoong had apparently managed to confess his feelings after all, and now here they were, first row seats like they deserved.

Wooyoung was happy for them. He loved Seonghwa like a brother and genuinely believed him and Hongjoong to be a good match. Otherwise he would have tried to curb San’s enthusiasm with this, painful as it would have been. No one loved love like his Sannie.

His Sannie who was currently sniffling behind him, chin rested on Wooyoung’s shoulder so he could watch his brother and Hongjoong kiss—or whatever it was they were doing. It seemed more like Seonghwa was currently experimenting how much tongue he could get down a willing Hongjoong’s throat before he started choking. Wooyoung could swear he saw the drool from here.

“They’re so cute,” San whispered, almost awed that there was a happy end after all.

Wooyoung adored his big softie, turning his head to give his cheek a kiss for being who he was.

“I feel like there is a moral to this story,” he murmured almost absentmindedly, tightening San’s warm arms around him as he settled back in.

Next to their intertwined forms Yunho had his arms crossed, head cocked as he regarded the scene. “Hm? Do you mean like open and honest communication is always the answer? Or maybe something about courage?”

“What? No.” Wooyoung’s face made it clear that he had no clue where Yunho could have possibly come up with that dumb idea. “I meant more like that Sannie and I are the best couple that ever existed.”

“Like transcending time and space!” San chimed in.

“Yeah! And our love is so pure that it’s infectious.”

“I think inspiring is the better word, baby,” San suggested. “Infectious sounds like the flu.”

“True. Inspiring. I love that.”

Yunho appeared equal parts tired and resigned.

Like a thousand times before Wooyoung turned in San’s arms, was immediately accommodated, held. Being face to face, San’s joy was even more obvious, infectious, inspiring, as he smiled at Wooyoung with that soft look in his eyes. And maybe a hint of smugness. “And I love you, baby.”

Giggling, he wrapped his arms around San’s neck, simply taking in the face he cherished most. Wooyoung knew he could do this, them, forever. “Love you, Sannie.”

“A great ending,” San declared solemnly.

Oh, and then he kissed him.