Archive of Our Own ^beta

*

1. “Would you like to have a drink together?”

“You know, maybe you have your chance.”

Younghoon widened his eyes without any idea what to answer to Jacob’s soft voice. His friend was looking at him gently, a hand on his arm, and while Younghoon dumbly opened his mouth no sound spilling past it, Hyunjae, his boyfriend and secondarily (very secondarily) Younghoon’s childhood friend, spoke up with a sigh, “Let it go, Cobbie, I don’t want to hear yet again the poor and pitiful Younghoon’s complaints in major B-flat on how is languidly in love with the prince Choi Chanhee. Shakespeare wrote much better tragedies, if you want a book, I…”

Younghoon brutally struck his binder against his best friend’s forehead, who whined in pain before he burst out laughing.

“You could at least look sorry!”

“Take care, boys, you’re going to hurt yourselves,” Jacob breathed out, delicately putting his hand against his boyfriend’s forehead who had yet to stop snickering; Younghoon moaned out of despair when even Jacob couldn’t help but puff his cheeks up to hold back his laughter as well.

“I’m not the issue, it’s his boyfriend!”

“What boyfriend?”

“Kim Sunwoo,” Younghoon mumbled, crossing his arms with a deeply determined and severe look.

“Kim Sunwoo?” Jacob sing-sang without raising his eyes, still doing Hyunjae’s English assignment for him, on the cafeteria’s bench.

“They’re always stuck together, and he always sulks whenever Younghoon tries to talk with Chanhee,” Hyunjae explained, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s tilted shoulder.

Younghoon let out a conspicuously disgusted wince when he kissed the back of Jacob’s ear, who immediately snorted. Hyunjae pulled his tongue at his best friend as Jacob thought it through a few seconds.

“He might just not be very social?”

“Or he’s his jealous boyfriend and he’s establishing dominance!” Younghoon sharply protested.

“You’re just paranoid because you’re not confident, Hoonie.”

“Excuse you, does Chanhee look like someone who doesn’t have the world at his feet?” Younghoon spit out fervently.

The couple sitting in front of him glanced at each other dubitative, neither one of them at anyone else’s feet.

“Sunwoo has everything going for him,” Younghoon kept going, diving his face in his arms, “he knows fashion, he’s an art student, he has this androgynous thing that brings his beauty out, he’s tan, he’s stylish, educated, he skipped a year, he must be so smart…”

“You should just date Sunwoo, then,” Hyunjae retorted placidly, typing on his phone.

“I can’t, he’s dating Chanhee!” Younghoon bemoaned.

“You’re in love with Sunwoo, then?” Jacob softly asked with an angelic smile.

“WHAT, NO?”

Younghoon jumped on his feet, ready to empty his water bottle on the crying from laughter couple that served him as best friends, collapsing against each other in the middle of the cafeteria. It was slowly becoming empty of the students who had finished snacking, or who finally went to their evening classes. The afternoon in this spring end was already warm and the three friends had decided to make the most of the campus’ building’s air-conditioning before their finals, in the false pretense of last-minute studying, refusing to admit to themselves that Hyunjae and Jacob would probably have spent the afternoon languorously making out, if Younghoon hadn’t joined them. Despite the tardy hour though, the cafeteria’s front door almost timidly opened, stopping entirely Younghoon’s murderous urges.

“A mint tea, please,” Chanhee’s voice could be heard from the counter, behind Hyunjae and Jacob’s backs, who turned around at the same time, the least discreetly possible, against Younghoon’s will, who sat back down gritting his teeth.

“Younghoon, he’s alone!” Jacob whispered with an absolutely thrilled look.

“I can see very well, thank you,” his friend mumbled, trying to ignore the cold sweat dripping down his back, his eyes fixed on Chanhee’s back and his straight, pale pink hair, that fell gracefully on his thin neck.

“Look!”

Hyunjae grabbed his sleeve to show him something behind the glass wall; and Younghoon’s jaw fell when he recognized the infamous Sunwoo, Chanhee’s henchman, hanging at another boy’s arm, two ice creams in his hands. He was about to shyly tell Hyunjae that it didn’t prove anything when the other boy stopped a few seconds right in front of the glass wall as if to prove Younghoon wrong, to make Sunwoo taste his own ice cream, before he pulled him into unambiguous kiss.

“Ew,” Hyunjae grumbled, probably out of reflex.

“Stop, this is cute,” Jacob lightly objected.

“Do you want to get ice creams?” his boyfriend immediately asked, not needing to be asked twice.

Younghoon didn’t hear Jacob’s reply – probably another chirping – since he finally found the strength to stand up, as if carried by a trance, before he walked straight to Chanhee, who was still waiting for his tea typing on his phone, with a discreet clinking whenever his rings knocked together. Younghoon difficultly swallowed, like each time he got this close to Chanhee, to his pretty almond-shaped eyes, his round nose, and his heart-shaped lips under his pink strands. He had met him at the beginning of the academic year, when they shared an evening class (a math class that wasn’t optional to Younghoon’s business degree and a strange guilty pleasure to Chanhee despite his artistical course) and he hadn’t dare to go further than to ask him for his help regarding the subject of said class. Chanhee had however always taken great pleasure into helping him during their classes, or into spending a hour or two at the cafeteria to study together, but most often, these moments together had been enshrouded by Kim Sunwoo’s shadow. He was Chanhee’s consistent partner on the campus, systematically sticking to him and permanently sporting the same gloomy and sleepy pout on his face, particularly ever since the summer had begun. Younghoon did his best to ignore the anxiety and doubts still hammering joyfully in his heart to take on this opportunity that would probably not come to him again.

“Chanhee?”

The person of interest lifted his head up instantly and put on a disarmingly bright smile on his face a bit too quickly for Younghoon’s heart.

“Oh, Younghoon, I didn’t see you! What are you still doing here?”

“We’re studying,” Younghoon mumbled, before he let his eyes wander to Hyunjae and Jacob who were kissing as if their lives depended on it.

“I see,” Chanhee said amused, biting the tip of his thumb, a habit that Younghoon had soon enough noticed he had when he was stressed.

His eyes widened when he realized that it must have meant Chanhee was… stressed.

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh! Yes! I… I won’t stay long, don’t worry.”

Younghoon could’ve sworn he had seen his high cheekbones redden, matching with his hair.

“No! I mean…”

“Yes?”

They stared into each other eyes for a few seconds in a terribly heavy and awkward silence.

“Would you like to have a drink together, this week?” Younghoon eventually blurted out with a high-pitched voice that he hated right away.

Chanhee blinked a few times, his gaze fixed on him, before his pretty lips stretched into a blinding smile.

“Oh… yes, I’d like it a lot.”

It was just at this moment that the fuming mint tea he had ordered was put down on the counter before him. He slightly startled, before taking his cup still blushing, then turning around to leave, but changing his mind and taking two steps back to lay a tiny kiss on Younghoon’s cheek and scampering away the fastest possible. The latter, astounded, joined his table in slow-motion, not even reacting to Hyunjae’s whistle who had miraculously managed to follow the interaction from a distance, while still making out with Jacob.

*

2. “I would like you to be my boyfriend.”

“Business? You look way too shy to sell things.”

“You’re a student too?”

Younghoon’s partner for the night shrugged, stone-faced.

“No, I couldn’t pay for my education anymore, I had to drop out, I’m trying to get in a dance crew, and I work at this huge coffeeshop in the mall.”

Slightly surprised, Younghoon didn’t find anything to reply to that, and started blowing bubbles into his large plastic cup. Despite his joy when he had gotten Chanhee’s text inviting him, he soon came to the realization that he still didn’t know what they were, and frightened by doubts, even after going out together alone a few times since their first date, he didn’t dare to take the first step towards him. He had mulled over the idea of staying with Hyunjae and Jacob, especially when he wouldn’t be third wheeling because the latter’s best friend, Kevin, had joined them. Unfortunately for Younghoon, once he understood that the lovebirds well intended on catching up with the wasted times of their finals week, he also understood as well that Kevin, just arrived from Canada, spoke Korean very badly, and especially the emptier his bottle of beer was getting. He had then retreated the fastest possible not to live through the trauma he had given his last English teacher again.

“You came alone? Chanhee’s friend?”

Younghoon simply waved dramatically towards his three friends – or at least, what was left of them, Kevin now lost in a drinking game with another student who looked like he was at least bilingual. Changmin let out a small laugh halfway between shyness and the amusement of someone who was too used to another kind of environment to be fully comfortable.

“I came with them, but Chanhee’s a classmate.”

Younghoon bit his lips. The words had come to him instinctively, without him needing to think about them. The three dates he had with Chanhee had only served to make him fall even deeper for the cute boy, the so peculiar way he smiled while looking at him in the eyes behind his thumb trapped between his teeth as he bit lightly on his nail, his ability at getting excited like a small child and then becoming deep and intense just as fast to go back into a serious discussion, or even this strange habit he took on to look at Younghoon at the end of each one of their dates, as if he was waiting for something that didn’t come, before leaving without turning back, leaving the other boy flabbergasted and confused.

“What about you?” he kept the conversion going, not wanting to get lost in the lovesickness he felt for Chanhee.

“My boyfriend is his best friend,” Changmin informed placidly with a head sign towards the infamous Kim Sunwoo, behind the kitchen’s patio door, laughing and helping Chanhee to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Oh. Oh!”

Changmin arched a brow, staring at him with an inquiring gaze. Younghoon kept his mouth open wordlessly, well aware that explaining to Changmin that he was certain his boyfriend was someone else’s for months wasn’t a good idea.

“And this one, right here, is Eric, my coworker,” Changmin continued softly, pointing at the bilingual boy that had come to Kevin’s saving, near the ping-pong table.

“You look a little shy, too,” Younghoon attacked, narrowing his eyes.

“I at least managed to make my relationship with my boyfriend official,” Changmin retorted with a smirk that wasn’t really mocking, but almost.

Younghoon opened his round eyes wide, astonished and shocked, understanding easily that Changmin, for an unknown reason, had seen right through him. The latter sent him a mischievous wink.

“I have my sources, but my guess was confirmed when you glared at Sunwoo, before looking at Chanhee like a kicked puppy. You know, they talk a lot, both of them, and Sunwoo speaks to me too.”

Defeated, but undoubtfully emboldened by his drink, Younghoon couldn’t help but mumble, “Then, Chanhee knows I like him…”

“Don’t make this face, my poor child. You’re making your life way too hard.”

“Hey!”

“I wouldn’t have gotten here if I had gone in circles around Sunwoo this much. There was no way we would see each other again after the party where we met,” Changmin confided.

Intrigued by this stranger who seemed to be godsent, and who also sported on his chest a medal for the “I managed to secure myself the moodiest and most mysterious art student” prize, Younghoon encouraged him to keep going with sign of the head, a few silent questions in his eyes.

“They act all smart, but truth is, they’re both just as shy as each other, that’s why you think they’re hard to approach,” Changmin sighed casting a glance towards the patio door.

Younghoon saw him furrow his eyebrows though when he noticed Sunwoo had disappeared.

“Show him you want him. If you can’t tell him clearly, still go for it. Use your eyes, your words, other words, even. Use your presence, stay with him, pay attention to the signals he’s sending you, until you can be more forward. Believe me, he’s waiting for you much more than you’d think. You just trust your shyness and your anxiety more, and don’t pay enough attention to him.”

Younghoon was about to answer when his eyes almost fell out of their sockets for good; Chanhee, after sending him his dirtiest glare, threw himself to Kevin’s neck, talking in a high-pitched English with a purposefully offended stress so his voice could be heard.

“See?” Changmin said, amused.

“See what?” Younghoon choked out. “He’s straight up flirting, right now!”

“And who do you say he’s flirting with?”

Younghoon hesitated to reply, a part of his insecurities finally lifted off his chest as Chanhee sent him another defying glare, barely perceptible, but that Younghoon couldn’t have made up. Changmin let him mull over it a few seconds, then elbowed him friendly, before disappearing all of a sudden – probably to “use his presence” somewhere around Sunwoo. Once alone, Younghoon drank the last of his drink in a gulp, before spotting Chanhee rushing straight towards him, sending bullets through his eyes; the poor Kevin, completely shitfaced, didn’t look like he cared at all. Both feeling the same wings growing in his back as that day at the cafeteria, and frozen by the mute and full of tension proximity they shared now, Younghoon only miraculously succeeded not to stutter, “Chanhee?”

“Yes?”

Younghoon’s brain started buzzing. Before he could get his spirits back to understand anything other than Chanhee’s gaze finally focused entirely on him, each one of his mental capacities paused; like so, he leaned forward with no hesitation to the cute art student’s small round mouth to kiss him, immediately catching his pale pink strands on his neck with both his hands, more to keep himself standing than to keep Chanhee from running away. He forgot even his own name when the latter’s arms wrapped around his waist to press himself against him and eagerly kissing him back, though Younghoon had kept it chaste. However, Chanhee seemed to perfectly know what he was doing, pushing the taller boy to let himself entirely go, despite the few centimeters he had on Chanhee that forced him to tiptoe to secure his spot in their exchange.

“You too? Are we in an orgy?” a feminine voice grumbled passing by them, followed by a cloud of cigarette smoke, interrupting their kiss as Chanhee startled.

Younghoon felt himself deflate when he opened his eyes to see him lick his lips shamelessly.

“Younghoon, what game are you playing at?” he eventually mumbled with a husky voice.

“What?” the person of interest squeaked out.

“You ogle me all year long, shyly ask me to tutor you, eventually you ask for a date, then two, three… And never you go further. What do you want from me, exactly?”

Chanhee was frowning, his arms still linked around Younghoon’s waist. His pinkish lips made him look like a flower bud more than ever. Younghoon swallowed.

“You’re so pretty,” he let out without a thought.

Chanhee diverted his eyes, embarrassed and flattered, letting a very tiny chuckle out. His cheekbones slowly became redder than any other part of his face. Emboldened, Younghoon leaned to kiss them, each of them, deepening their blush.

“I would like you to be my boyfriend. If you want to.”

Chanhee took his time before he spoke again. His eyes had fallen shut when he received Younghoon’s timid, almost romantic kisses, and, without opening them, he tilted his head to brush his nose against his neck, before laying a kiss there as well, much more sensual; the radically opposed way they tried seducing each other was nothing short of making Younghoon go crazy.

“Yes, I’d like it.”

The small artist’s hands unhooked from behind Younghoon’s back to allow him to better bury against himself in what was left of his coyness, and his fingertips started wandering up his ribs. The young man didn’t know how much time they stayed like that, hugging wordlessly near the small buffet on the terrace, silent like two inexperienced middle schoolers. At some point, Changmin and Sunwoo had invaded the dancefloor, overflowing with happiness and complicity. Jacob and Hyunjae had disappeared from Younghoon’s sight, and Kevin was still playing more clumsily than ever by Eric’s side and some others, the young smoking girl had also found a calm spot near them.

“If you’d like it… why didn’t you say anything?” Younghoon finally dared to ask with a quiet voice.

“Hm,” Chanhee simply answered, before stepping away from their embrace, and dragging him inside with a pull at his hand, not daring to look at him.

Younghoon decided, despite the squeeze back in his heart, not to push his luck more, and followed him without a word.

*

3. “That’s your type of guy? Tall, buff and dumb?”

Once the lights were back in the dark room, Chanhee didn’t move an inch, his head buried into the crook of Younghoon’s neck, and his arms wrapped around his, while the business student distractedly stroked his forearms, his hands, his fingers, with his free hand. Inside their bubble, they silently agreed to wait until the theater was empty, before lazily getting up. They hadn’t been talking a lot since they had made their relationship official, not having anything to tell each other though, but alternating between long debates and comforting silences where they simply walked holding hands. Sometimes, they sat side by side in a relaxing, cottony embrace, nestled inside each other’s arms, some other times, one of them would suddenly wake up to start a long soliloquy about a random matter, the other carefully listening before asking questions and reacting and go on into another never-ending conversation.

“It’s quite incredible someone could play this poorly but be this sexy,” Chanhee suddenly said when they were out of the theater, hanging onto Younghoon’s arm.

The latter felt a weight on his chest.

“So, that’s your type of guy?”

He tried to pass it as a joke and was content that his voice didn’t shake.

“Are you kidding… He could run me over with a truck, I’d still thank him.”

Chanhee often smoked, and that night, he nearly seemed to disappear behind a screen of smoke. Younghoon pursed his lips, reminded of his boyfriend’s slightly hurt voice when he couldn’t help but say something about it. Sometimes Chanhee looked so far away from him, so unattainable, not at the same level.

“He does play poorly, though,” Younghoon sighed, trying to chase away the unpleasant feeling that relentlessly made his chest feel tight.

“Terrible, right?” Chanhee nodded cheerfully, a skip in his steps.

“So, your type is tall, buff, and dumb?” the taller boy shyly teased, his gaze soft despite his doubts.

“Oh, not just them, look at yourself, you’re not dumb at all.”

The little angel on Younghoon’s shoulder took the praise with a blush, while the little devil on his other shoulder viciously whispered that it was obvious a boy like Chanhee couldn’t ever find him attractive; and that he was pathetic to even have believed it. Younghoon clenched his teeth, and fluttered his lashes hoping that his fatigue wouldn’t let his insecurities shine through his eyes.

“Thanks, I guess,” the boy mumbled, his voice and his face low.

“Younghoon, what’s going on?” Chanhee babbled.

“Nothing, everything’s fine!” Younghoon exclaimed a bit too fast, a fake smile on his face.

Chanhee furrowed his eyebrows, exhaled one last drag of his cigarette, and forced Younghoon to stop by pulling on the arm he was holding between his.

“What’s going on?” he repeated, firmer.

Younghoon moved his eyes anywhere he could, determined to avoid looking at Chanhee.

“Younghoon?” his boyfriend insisted, his small eyes round in a sincerely worried pout.

“Wouldn’t you… like to date someone at your level?” he ended up blurting out.

Chanhee frowned.

“What do you mean, at my level? What’s my level?”

“Not… this,” Younghoon breathed out, his voice reedy and shrugging to signal he was talking about himself, pitiful and sheepish.

A heavy silence weighed upon them, Chanhee unreadable and Younghoon ashamed. Under his pale pink hair, the smaller boy was watching his partner without a blink, something like disbelief in his pupils.

“Forget it,” Younghoon eventually whispered with a fragile voice, before he attempted to pull on his arm to keep on walking.

But Chanhee remained still.

“Wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Younghoon rushed to stutter out, “I didn’t mean to say this, I made things awkward, I didn’t want…”

“Shut up a second,” Chanhee sighed, softly but firmly, his small fingers gripped around the taller boy’s sleeve.

A cold sweat dripped down Younghoon’s spine, while Chanhee tormented his bottom lip, his face low, appearing to be looking for the right words. When he started speaking again, he was still looking at his feet, talking slowly, as if it pained him to say them out loud, “You… you aren’t even aware how attractive you are, Younghoon.”

The latter noisily swallowed, his eyes about to fall out of their sockets. Chanhee’s were wide as he talked to his arm, obstinately withdrawn.

“My level… it doesn’t exist. I want to date because I like you. Don’t try to think too deep about it. I’m not… I’m not above you, I’m not something you win, that you have to deserve… And I really want to be with you. Don’t get your head in tangles like that, please.”

“Chanhee…”

“Promise me?”

Chanhee raised shiny small eyes towards an astonished Younghoon. He looked deeply intimidated but he couldn’t understand it, it didn’t seem to fit him at all. Far was his usual pride and eccentricity, he appeared to be looking for comforting words deep within himself, where he had buried them because he hadn’t ever needed them, because Choi Chanhee was used to have people fight for him. He was used to people bragging about getting him, to be shown around like some sort of a trophy, to people being sure they could make him helpless, to welcome knights looking for the Grail because they were all certain they deserved to have him. But he was defenseless to Younghoon retreating on his own accord, to his lack of confidence, and his coy and sincere admiration, and found himself forced to make the first step. Younghoon watched him in silence for a few seconds, before leaning forward, to stop two centimeters away from his lips, in a mute question.

“Promise me?” Chanhee insisted, so low Younghoon would have doubted hearing it, if he hadn’t seen his heart-shaped lips move.

“I promise,” his boyfriend whispered, his heart hammering.

Chanhee pouted, before he rested his hands against his neck to seal their promise with a tender kiss, uncaring of the whistle from a group of young adults leaving a bar near the movie theater.

*

4. “You have experience… And I’m not enough.”

Younghoon might not had dated anyone before, but he at least learned how to kiss, from fake platonic kisses of high schoolers learning all about alcohol to kisses given to avoid talking and go on sensitive confession when it wasn’t the moment. Most importantly, Chanhee was content with his own talent, and let Younghoon make the first move and lead their exchanges most of the time, settling with nibbling him here and there, and rewarding him with a sigh or two, sometimes suggesting ideas, but overall letting himself go to the taller boy’s arms. He liked to light some sparks in his mind and then calmly watch him burn, as if the initiatives never really came from him; until they reached waters where Younghoon didn’t know how to swim.

After an afternoon spent playing in a sunlit park with Sunwoo and Changmin (who didn’t snicker as much since he had started getting ready for a highly crucial audition, to Younghoon’s relief), they had taken shelter in the huge living room of Chanhee’s house, to make the most of his parents’ trip as it was ending. The classical “my parents aren’t home” would have been enough for anyone to understand where the night was supposed to lead, but Younghoon was content with languorously making out with Chanhee for very long minutes and playing with his fingers without showing any intent on going further. In reality, the taller student was frozen with anxiety, not knowing how to do this and paralyzed by the idea that Chanhee must probably be expecting him to take the lead; so he was surprised when the young artist blew his frustration directly into his mouth, before creeping a hand under Younghoon’s shirt. A squeak spilled past the latter’s mouth when he felt Chanhee’s fingers brush his skin under the fabric.

“What are you doing?”

Chanhee quirked a brow.

“You know how babies are made, right?”

As an answer, he could only choke on a retort that never came to him. Chanhee scrutinized him a moment, not lifting a finger to help him catch his breath, but eventually removed his hand from his hip to stroke his nose with his fingertip, probably believing he understood what was happening to his boyfriend.

“Younghoon… if you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to do anything, alright?”

“I… I want it!”

Younghoon chastised himself for looking this childish.

“You’re sure?”

Chanhee’s gaze was piercing.

“Yes! It’s just… just that…”

Suddenly, his boyfriend’s eyes widened.

“You’re a virgin?”

The scarlet red spreading onto Younghoon’s face and his fleeting gaze were enough to answer his question. A mix of shame and timidity blocked every word he found to say in the back of his throat, and he made a point of avoiding Chanhee’s gaze, unable to hold whatever he would find in them. He had hoped to be strong enough to hide his doubts and his inexperience so his boyfriend wouldn’t notice, afraid the small artist would refuse, probably reasonably, to take responsibility for something that had always been considered as a vital step in one’s life, around Younghoon.

“You’re a virgin but… you’re sure you want to do this… with me?”

Younghoon was astonished to hear how higher pitched than usual Chanhee’s voice was, and curiosity pushed him to raise his eyes, to notice his boyfriend was at least just as red as himself, if it was even possible. He swallowed, still unable to reply, and quickly nodded. Chanhee’s lips parted like a fish out of the water, before he pointed at his own chest as if to say a silent “me?”. Younghoon nodded again, more firmly this time.

“I’ve been told it’s important to do it… with someone you like. You love,” Younghoon quickly corrected.

“You…”

“Yeah,” he mumbled in one breath, feeling like making his confession more explicit would make the atmosphere heavier than it already was.

When Chanhee put his hands back on his torso as if he were made of glass, Younghoon realized he had stopped breathing.

“Do you want me to show you, then?”

A kiss on his cheek.

“Do you trust me?”

A kiss under his ear. Younghoon shivered.

“Tell me if I go too fast, ‘Hoon. If you want to stop, if you’re not comfortable… I’ll go slow, I promise.”

Chanhee punctuated all his words with a peck onto Younghoon’s neck or his jaw. While speaking, his hands found the hem of his boyfriend’s shirt, and then sneaked under again with an entirely new tenderness. Younghoon closed his eyes and let himself go to a sigh of pleasure when Chanhee’s fingers undid his buttons one by one, until a sliver of skin was bare, but he didn’t spread the hems further, letting the clothe cover most of Younghoon’s chest, simply stroking the thin line of revealed skin. Entirely abandoned to him, Younghoon itched to uncover his boyfriend’s body as well, but he was still unpleasantly frozen by his stress and parasite thoughts, despite a growing desire in all his being to the young artist’s surprisingly delicate care.

“It’s funny,” Chanhee whispered, his nose in his neck.

“Funny?”

“It’s like a first time, for me too. Usually, people don’t let me take the lead.”

Younghoon furrowed his eyebrows, before his words spilled without a thought.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I should’ve known that I… that I wasn’t enough.”

Chanhee lifted his head up like a meerkat.

“What are you saying, now?”

“You… you have experience, and I’m forcing you to do everything, to go back from scratch. I’m sorry.”

“Younghoon, Younghoon,” Chanhee panicked with round eyes, “I’m stopping you right there.”

He had laid his hand on his mouth to interrupt the flow of apologies that was ready to follow and hauled himself up without a detour to straddle his lap.

“Do you think I’m dating you just to have sex? I want to be with you, ‘Hoon, not with… anyone else.”

“To that point?” his boyfriend couldn’t help but react, despite himself.

“To that point, or not, it doesn’t matter. There’s only us two, here. I want to go at your pace, to do things for you, understood? I… I like you for this too, you know?”

Younghoon dumbly blinked.

“Huh?”

“I… I feel more comfortable, with you,” Chanhee mumbled, looking at the ceiling, “because you trust me, because you let me lead, because you listen to me. But, please, stop using this to deprecate yourself, it’s not like you’re weak because you’re kind, and like I need some kind of alpha male who…”

He stopped himself for a second to look for his words, while Younghoon finally found the courage to catch his face between his hands to kiss him, this time with all the conviction and desire that had made his heart beat ever since they had sat on the couch. Apparently relieved not to have to say more, the young artist raised himself on his knees, hovering above his boyfriend to make him tilt his head back. With a frustrated groan, Chanhee parted from Younghoon just to rid him of his shirt, their coyness entirely forgotten, and threw it on the coffee table, his hands wandering along his body, drawing a shudder from him, permanent, stronger and stronger, and distracting enough to make him forget all about his doubts. When their consuming kiss came to a stop so Chanhee could take his clothes off as well, Younghoon almost slapped himself in the face as he heard himself stutter, “You’re really sure that…”

Chanhee rolled his eyes to heaven once he was out of his shirt, took one of Younghoon’s hands to rest it on his chest, and caught the second one to put it flat on the bulge growing between his legs through his trousers.

“You’re going to have to believe me now, because I can’t be clearer.”

Younghoon noisily squeaked, before he eventually allowed himself to let it go. He found out many things about Chanhee in the end of this summery afternoon; that he loved to make decisions, despite what he let everyone believe, that his pale skin tasted like milk, and his voice easily became high-pitched when he touched him in a more intimate way than Younghoon had allowed himself to imagine. If he didn’t lose his virginity per se – for now – and he was now certain he had made the right choice by waiting for this boy he fell in love with much deeper than was reasonable.

“You know what?” Chanhee said with a soft voice, once they were lying across the couch, after putting their underwear on again, taking advantage of their partial nude state to keep lazily exploring each other’s body in the evening’s light.

“What?”

Younghoon raised mesmerized eyes towards his boyfriend, who had closed his thin, almost fragile arms around him, still comforting him.

“You’re so cute.”

Younghoon felt his face burn.

“Stop…”

Chanhee’s laughter resounded in the room like music to his ear.

“Make up your mind, when I told you earlier that you’re super sexy it made you go…”

Younghoon hit him on the chest with a shameful groan of distress.

“Stop!”

Chanhee laughed even louder, his voice sounding even lower when he hauled himself up to lie on him, losing an adventurous hand on his hip on his way, and murmured into Younghoon’s ear, “If I stop talking, you’re going to have to give me something else to do…”

Younghoon had always bragged about being a good student, so rightfully, he agreed without protest to a second lesson.

*

5. “Yes, I doubt, because I’ve never learned how to do this!”

Changmin had passed his audition, so, Sunwoo had dragged him to have a drink in the first bar they found, around the campus. In consequence, he had invited Chanhee, who had taken great liking to his best fiend’s boyfriend, and who, then, had invited Younghoon. Having a drink between friends had quickly turned into a group hang out in a bar where they had met a few acquaintances and friends, meaning, Hyunjae, Jacob and Kevin (the latter definitely couldn’t hold his liquor well, by the way, if Younghoon interpreted his high-pitched laughter and his zigzag walk well); but mostly, this tall boy wearing a sleeveless top that really brought out his long toned athlete arms. This tall boy who had a ravishing smile and a look softer than a cute big dog, never-ending legs, and a mellifluous voice, and answered to the name of Lee Juyeon, a name that definitely sounded even more melodious when Chanhee pronounced it. “He’s his ex, don’t worry,” Sunwoo had smiled with a wink. Thankfully, Younghoon wasn’t worried because he was straight up frightened.

“Stop this, Hoonie, you were convinced he was dating Sunwoo because he was too pretty for you, and you were wrong! There’s no reason for him to still have feelings for him, he’s dating you!”

“For fuck’s sake, Hyunjae, have you seen how sexy he is?”

“Ah, well, if you’re confusing your jealousy with your own desire to have a gangbang with all the models hanging around Choi Chanhee…”

Younghoon took perverse pleasure in throwing his coaster to his best friend’s forehead like it was a shuriken.

“I have eyes and a brain, that’s it!”

“Listen, if Jacob were to have a panic attack every time I talk to a girl, just because I never went out with a boy before him, we wouldn’t be this far! Try trusting Chanhee, he’s shown you enough that he loves you, right?”

Hyunjae’s words echoed in Younghoon’s mind the whole evening. They entangled with the memory of his own half-confession to Chanhee a few days earlier, of all the efforts he had done to attract his attention on him, of when he first asked him out on a date, of their first kiss, of them making their relationship official, and him confessing first and the reply he had gotten through gestures, perhaps, but not through words. Unlike Chanhee, or even Hyunjae, Younghoon had no idea how to be certain about what others felt towards him if there were no words to explain it to him. He didn’t know how to differentiate conventional gestures and sincere ones, words and intents, irony and honesty. He wanted more than anything to believe that Chanhee was happy to be his boyfriend but couldn’t reach this conclusion when the most basic logic seemed to indicate the contrary: may it be only a product of his anxiety, that he couldn’t simmer down in stressful situations. Case in point, the stressful situation was Lee Juyeon’s existence, and it felt like a bomb blowing up in the middle of the city, especially when Younghoon’s eyes fell on the way he filled his trousers.

“Juyeon… is he really your ex?” he asked, probably made bold by the beer, as they were walking home together, holding hands.

“Juyeon? Yes, why?” the boy replied lightly, blowing a cloud of smoke after taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Nothing,” Younghoon mumbled, gnawing the inside of his cheeks.

He should’ve known that at this point of their relationship, Chanhee perfectly knew what was going through his stubborn mind. He pertinently knew the other deciphered him better and better, that he understood his voice tones, the way his eyes moved, when his figure was tense.

“Shit, Younghoon, what’s your problem? Why can’t you trust me?”

Younghoon had never had a boyfriend, nor a girlfriend; and because of this, he didn’t know how to stop a couple fight. Unfortunately for him, his boyfriend had been patient enough, enough to easily let the tension piling in his slim body blow up, his cheeks angry red, his eyes narrowed by doubts, and his eyebrows furrowed by frustration.

“How do you want me to trust someone else when I don’t even know how to trust myself?” the tall student grumbled pitifully, his gaze fleeting.

“That’s precisely the issue, you don’t trust me, but trust in you, I have lots, that I try to give you, but you won’t listen to me! You stubbornly refuse to believe and listen to anything I tell you, I’m starting to wonder why you’re dating me, since all you do is sulking on your own and believing only your tiny head!”

Chanhee had let go of his hand and looked to be latching onto his cigarette to stand tall. When it was done burning, he threw its butt in the first trashcan he found before lighting a second on his way. Younghoon couldn’t help but think it was another thing that pushed him apart from Chanhee, as if everything else, all their differences could be symbolized and represented by this screen of smoke that stilled between them to blur everything out and make him lose his markers.

“How do you want me to believe in it when all your fantasies are the opposite of who I am?”

“Care to tell me what exactly you know of my fantasies, Kim Younghoon?”

The young artist had crossed his arms and widened his eyes. His voice growled while reaching notes higher than usual, and Younghoon knew he was about to step over the limit.

“Tall buff athlete and sexy top models? Popular and ambitious dudes, who know what they want, take care of you, it’s not that hard to know, everyone knows who the infamous Choi Chanhee dated!”

“Push it, Younghoon, and I swear I’m leaving right here and now,” Chanhee threatened, interrupting him.

“You very well know that’s not what I mean!”

Younghoon wanted more than ever to tear his hair apart. He swallowed once, twice, while Chanhee took a few drags of his cigarette, fire burning in his eyes, but still patient enough to let him one last chance not to insult him. When he started speaking again, he hated immediately the sobs blocking his airways, “Put yourself in my shoes a little. You look surprised every time I’m having doubts, but actually, I had to go through the same exact steps as everyone else, go to you, ask you out on a date, then to be my boyfriend, and… and I don’t have any other criteria to base myself off not to think you aren’t going to break up with me if someone else tries better to fight for you? Do you think I understand why you like me, when I know that your last ex is Juyeon? Yes, I’m doubting, because I’ve never learned how to do this, because it’s not innate, and especially because I love you so much that the idea of losing you now is frightening!”

Younghoon caught his breath difficultly, unable to believe all of this had come out of his mouth. He realized at the same time that Chanhee’s eyes had become tearful, making his heart plummet into his stomach. He was about to apologize before he noticed the small artist take a deep breath.

“BUT I LOVE YOU TOO!” Chanhee yelled.

His voice echoed in the deserted street, bouncing against the buildings’ walls, making the street poles vibrate, before piercing Younghoon’s ears.

“I love you, fuck, Younghoon, I’m in love with you too, I… I love you, because you’re not like the others.”

“Wait…”

“No, shit, listen to me. I should’ve told you, be clearer, probably, but I’m not going to say sorry! You too, put yourself in my shoes, I’m used to have people come to me, flirt with me, that… I don’t know how to do this either, you know? You’re right, it’s not innate, but I learned, and I learned in another way, but not the right way. And when you came, I thought… I thought you were more attracted to my image than anything else. I always thought that at some point, you would want to leave me, too, after using me to get what you wanted, after making yourself feel better about your masculinity by going out with a small androgynous artist who behaves like a spoiled princess and for who you have to fight. And I’m scared too, because I don’t want you to become like them, I want to stay with you, I want to believe in you, because it’s the first time I feel this good, that I have enough space to learn something else, to behave like… who I really am? But I won’t apologize, because I tried to tell you, Younghoon! I tried to tell you, but you too, you believe my reputation more than me! Don’t you think it scares me, as well?”

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Younghoon eventually enunciated, his fists clenched and his jaw tense.

He shook his head hoping to dry the scorching tears running on his cheeks.

“Oh, shut up, you too, you should stop saying sorry,” Chanhee scolded, angrily wiping his own cheeks.

“Don’t leave me, please,” Younghoon murmured, so low that he hoped, for a few seconds, that Chanhee didn’t hear him.

But he was happy that he did hear him when his boyfriend stepped over the few meters between them to throw himself into his arms and hang onto his neck.

“Only if you don’t leave me either,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse, in a noisy hiccup.

Younghoon closed his arms around Chanhee’s hips, and held him tight, so tight against himself, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“You know, it’s comforting, when you talk like that.”

“When I yell at you?” the young artist breathed out with a nervous chuckle.

“When you confide in me,” Younghoon groaned.

“I’d tell you I love you, but I promise it won’t ever be a secret again.”

Chanhee’s fingers tenderly stroked his scalp, while Younghoon allowed himself to sniffle in their embrace.

“I love you too, really really much.”

“Not too soon!” a tenant from the second floor of the building under which they fought roared, before putting their cigarette off, and closing the shutters on their window to both students’ tomato red cheeks, but they didn’t part though.

*

+1. “Are you jealous?”

Summer was coming to an end when Chanhee eventually decided to use his parents’ pool wisely. From Younghoon’s opinion, dipping their feet in the water or lazing around with a cup of tea and his boyfriend was enough, because he still felt too intimidated to prance around in his trunks outside, but neither of their friends agreed with who they called “the selfish couple, right here”. Their pleas, especially Hyunjae and Sunwoo’s had convinced Chanhee, who Younghoon suspected to be just as ill-at-ease as he was to expose his body in broad daylight. He had learned through the weeks that the young artist was far from exuding confidence like he tried so much to show, and that if he looked particularly at ease when it came to sensuality, he actually was full of very real hang-ups hidden behind a shield of faked confidence. In any case and despite his more and more ridiculous dodges, Sunwoo had eventually found the words to convince him to let them invade his huge pool at least once, which were “if you say no one more time, I’ll send Changmin to climb up your window to watch you sleep.”

“Chanhee, you must have a volleyball somewhere, right?”

With an artistically dramatic sigh, the small artist got up to look around his garage. Younghoon let his eyes follow his figure as he walked away, his trunks quite long but definitely fitting to his long and thin legs, and his oversized shirt (borrowed to his father) with a washed off sci-fi print on a grayish fabric. The cloth was pooling around him, but far from making him appear taller and broader, it only made him look thinner, enhancing the crying want inside Younghoon to hold him in his arms for the remaining of the afternoon, forgetting all about the heat to drown inside one of his hugs.

“Younghoon, look here!” Jacob cheerfully called suddenly, interrupting his staring.

The person of interest blinked with a dumb look on his face as he looked towards his friend’s phone shutter, who took a few pictures of him jumping around.

“It’s for a friend,” he babbled to explain, “she has a huge crush on you, and I’m sure I could get myself a whole meal with a photoshoot of you in a swimsuit.”

“You’re selling my body?” Younghoon said, offended, automatically hiding his bare chest, his complexion suddenly scarlet.

“Totally, by the way, put your sunglasses on, it gives you this movie star look!” he insisted shamelessly in English.

“’Cob, while you’re at it, take a picture of Hyunjae when you speak in English, he’s redder than if he was sunburned,” Sunwoo burst out in laughter, hiding behind Changmin, to narrowly avoid a splash of chlorinated water sent by Hyunjae.

“Wait, wait,” Younghoon suddenly realized, “what do you mean, your friend’s crushing on who?”

“On you!” Jacob explained, smiling as if it was nothing, “I got all her economy notes by making her think you’re straight. And believe me, it wasn’t easy.”

“And here I thought you were someone I could trust, I hope you told her I’m dating Chanhee, now!”

“Yeeeah, of course,” the boy sing-sang.

Younghoon didn’t need any more indication to know his friend was shamelessly lying, and quickly gave up, hoping that if he talked about it so jokingly, it was that the girl in question didn’t take him for the love of her life either.

“What do you mean, you’re dating me?”

Chanhee had appeared next to him the most silently possible, on his small bare feet’s tiptoes. He threw the volleyball precisely aiming at Sunwoo’s forehead, who quickly went to his boyfriend’s arms to ask for a healing kiss. A discontented frown twisted Chanhee’s cute features, but Younghoon, far from charmed, shuddered from fear.

“You’re not my boyfriend?” he asked with a quiet voice, worried he had done something wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Chanhee groaned, sitting down next to him.

He caught his arm between his, like he was hugging a plushy, and glared at Jacob.

“Who’s your friend? Give me your phone!”

Jacob burst out laughing and gave him the phone, proving himself to be more courageous than the marines, considering the pool was just right here and Chanhee seemed to be boiling from anger. Vaguely guessing it wasn’t directed towards him, Younghoon let himself be forgotten, frozen inside his boyfriend’s possessive embrace, playing dead. He startled when Chanhee pulled on his arm so he would turn around and didn’t let him catch his breath before kissing him fully, holding the phone in front of them to take a very explicit picture. Younghoon felt his eyes about to fall from their sockets though his lips nearly instinctively kissed Chanhee back, who was keeping his face here with his free hand, his nails digging into his neck. As if underwater, he heard their friends’ whistling from the pool like it was far away, and once Chanhee parted from him, he could only blink a few times, stunned. He let the small artist leave a few other fleeting pecks on his mouth and their corners, more chaste, more tender, as if to prove his sincerity after his burst of anger. Chanhee’s gestures created for a short moment a bubble around the couple, and after one last touch, just as sweet as candy, their eyes locked to exchange a smile that was only for themselves.

“Before you two go to your room finish this, can I have my phone back, perhaps?” Jacob just as the usual said softly, but amused.

Younghoon realized all of a sudden that said phone now possessed who knew how many shots of him in a swimsuit, topless, and in some of them he was explicitly making out with his boyfriend, decency entirely forgotten. He opened his mouth to protest, but remained wordless when he finally made all the puzzle pieces fit in his mind.

“You’re jealous?” he realized, once Jacob was skipping back to Kevin, who seemed to have difficulties talking in English with Hyunjae.

“Shut up,” Chanhee groaned, pressing his cheek against his arm, with a sharp slap to the taller boy’s thigh.

“Jealous… because a girl is crushing on me?”

“Not at all.”

“Jealous that someone could think they have their chance?”

“Nonsense.”

“Jealous because you’re not the only one who fell for my ravishing charisma?”

“You really never stop talking, huh?”

But the nervous laughter that Chanhee let out when Younghoon stopped teasing him to wrap an arm around his waist and reward him of a kiss on his pink hair told the opposite of the vindictive words coming out of his mouth. For once, Younghoon finally felt appeased, sure that he had at last known how to read in between the lines, and was enshrouded with a new confidence that he already liked.

“I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, you know.”

“Me neither.”

“You don’t want to be with anyone else?”

“I don’t want you to be with anyone else!”

“Being romantic really is a struggle for you, huh?”

“Shut up, Kim Younghoon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, shut up.”

Younghoon shut up, happier than ever, Chanhee perched on his lap at the edge of the pool, keeping himself amused by counting the point of the volleyball game inside the water.

*