awycia
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Summary
The bedroom door is slightly ajar. He nudges it open. “Lin Ling?”
Lin Ling is in their bed, framed by golden hour sunlight and the dark curve of their headboard. Both wrists are cuffed above him, arms stretched over head, body decorated in lingerie inspired intimately by his suit. Nice’s mind catalogs the outfit like a machine. The high gold collar, slits up the thighs so high they leave nothing to the imagination.
Lin Ling’s cheeks are flushed deep pink. Nice has seen that face under a thousand conditions. Covered in dirt and sweat from a battle. Squished into his pillow when he oversleeps. Twisting in laughter when Moon insults him. Wet with tears, gasping under Nice’s hands on fresh sheets at night.
This is new. “Hi,” Lin Ling croaks. “Uhm… Happy birthday.”
The grocery bag slips from his fingers and hits the floor with a dull thump, an apple rolling across the floor.
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Summary
“You say that you once held me in high regard,” Chan said, his throat feeling tight as he spoke. “Do you no longer consider me a friend?”
Minho looked at him startled, as if he hadn’t expected Chan to pick out that part of his words and focus on. His lips parted in surprise and Chan wished he didn’t have as much restraint as he had so he could steal Minho away and make him his, but he could never do something like that.
His self-control was too excellent.
Or, shame has permeated Chan’s existence and all of it has to do with how much he longs for his childhood friend. Minho deserves only the best, however Chan can’t give him anything but the worst.
Series
- Part 2 of The Season of Us
Bookmarked by awycia
05 Jun 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55578025/chapters/141058375