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It was Minghao’s idea to come to the party — he doesn’t usually want to go to parties but this time he’d insisted, and Junhui hadn’t bothered asking why. Junhui doesn’t even know who invited him, honestly. Most of these people don’t even go to their school.
It doesn’t really matter either way, because Junhui’s here now. Squashed into a corner of the couch, watching people he doesn’t know play Super Smash. Someone offered him the controller at one point, but Junhui had laughed and waved them off. A different someone offered him a shot, a little later, and he’d taken that. He’s fine like this. A little loose, fucking around on Weibo, phone still at 67%. He’s good.
He’s not sure how much time passes before Minghao finds him, eyebrows knit together in ever-present concern. Junhui looks up and laughs when he sees him, poking a finger right into the deepest wrinkle. Minghao swats him away, an expression on his face like he’s had enough of Junhui’s shit already. Junhui knows him too well to give it any weight.
“They’d let you play with them, you know,” Minghao says, sounding about thirty years older than he is. Junhui grins up at him.
“I know,” he says. “They asked. I said no.”
Minghao rolls his eyes.
“Come on, then,” he says, offering out his hand. Junhui considers it just long enough to be a nuisance, then lets himself be pulled up off the couch. He slips his phone — 53%, now — into his back pocket and slinks after Minghao, grabbing another drink on the way.
*
Minghao leads him into what looks like someone’s office — it’s quieter, the light dim. There are a few people Junhui doesn’t know, and a few he does. Hansol, Minghao’s friend, who nods in greeting. Joshua from third-period calculus, who smiles when their eyes meet, gaze kind. Junhui’s answering smile is awkward — too many teeth, accompanied by a half-swallowed hiccup of laughter. Joshua’s expression doesn’t waver, warm and steady.
Minghao leads Junhui to sit next to him on the floor, the others coming to make a circle, Hansol procuring a —
Oh.
They’re playing spin-the-bottle.
Junhui didn’t know people did this in real life — it seems like something that only happens in movies. But here they are, the others laughing and snickering as Hansol sets the bottle in the middle of the floor. Only Joshua is keeping a straight face, watching it happen with a bemused expression. He catches Junhui staring and Junhui laughs again, hunching in on himself even though Minghao always says that makes him look like an awkward turtle.
Sure enough, next to him Minghao digs an elbow into his side to remind him to sit up straight. Junhui digs his own elbow back and doesn’t. When he looks back over Joshua is talking to someone else.
There’s a round-faced boy next to Hansol who Junhui doesn’t recognize and he keeps whispering in his ear, eyes widening with an urgency that Hansol seems to find amusing. Not too strange — Hansol finds most things amusing, in Junhui’s experience.
“Okay!” the round-faced boy announces, faltering a little when everyone turns to look at him expectantly. Junhui watches with amusement as he visibly pulls his confidence back up, squaring his shoulders and. “Let’s start!”
It’s clear he’s not as confident with his English as the rest of them are — he must not go to their school, Junhui realizes. But he seems determined to lead anyway, and everyone else lets him do it easily enough. Hansol spins first, laughing when it lands on Minghao. Junhui watches as he crawls forward to plan a dry kiss on Minghao’s cheek, Minghao laughing and swatting him away impatiently as soon as his lips touch skin.
The round-faced boy gets someone else, and he huffs and pouts but kisses them obediently enough, blushing as he crawls back to his own seat.
Junhui watches everyone move forward to spin, one-by-one, nerves building in his stomach. His turn seems to come very quickly.
It takes him two tries to spin it, hands awkward as everyone watches, but on the second try it goes, spinning in neat circles until it lands on —
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Minghao groans, making a face and staring at the bottle pointed neatly at his shoes.
Junhui cackles, relieved. He reaches over to tilt Minghao’s chin towards him, planting a neat kiss in the same place Hansol did earlier. For all his earlier protests, Minghao sits awfully still as he does it. His skin is warm under Junhui’s mouth.
Junhui lets him go and settles back down, hands still shaking — not from the kiss but from the knowledge that everyone was watching. He laughs a little but doesn’t look at any of them, not wanting to know what they thought. Not wanting to know if they’re laughing at him.
Minghao spins and gets someone Junhui doesn’t know. Someone else Junhui doesn’t know spins and gets Hansol’s friend. The bottle spins and spins until they’ve made a full round, and then Hansol’s friend stops to whisper in his ear again. He seems even more determined this time and whatever he says makes Hansol laugh for real, his head thrown back with the force of it.
“Okay, okay,” he agrees, and then raises his voice to address the whole group. “Seungkwan wants to play seven minutes in heaven this time.”
There’s some murmuring and some awkward laughter as Hansol explains the rules, but no one protests. Junhui’s palms start to sweat a little. He isn’t sure — he doesn’t really know any of these people, except for Minghao. He doesn’t think he wants to kiss any of them for seven minutes.
“If you don’t want to do it you can take a dare instead,” Hansol adds, a general reassurance to the room. Junhui feels his face twist — it’s kind of Hansol to offer, but it would be more humiliating to be the only one taking the dare than it would to be locked in the bathroom with someone he doesn’t know.
Hansol spins first again, and he gets his round-faced friend — Seungkwan.
Neither of them take the dare — Seungkwan’s face turns bright red but he doesn’t protest when Hansol reaches for his hand. The rest of the group cheers them on as they stumble into the bathroom that’s adjacent to the office.
There’s some laughter, everyone fighting over who’s going to set the timer, and then an awkward silence settles for a few moments before someone turns the music up on their phone. Junhui sips his drink in silence, then pulls out his phone.
Hansol and Seungkwan stumble out of the bathroom exactly seven minutes later, both of them flushed and a little rumpled. Seungkwan looks a little embarrassed but Hansol only laughs when his friends catcall them, wrapping an arm around Seungkwan’s waist so Seungkwan can’t put any distance between them. Junhui looks over at Minghao, still sitting next to him. He’s watching with a fond smile on his face, seemingly unbothered.
Junhui had kind of hoped everyone would forget about the game, but Hansol and Seungkwan settle back into the circle — sitting noticeably closer together, now — and urge Joshua forward.
Junhui swallows hard as he watches. He doesn’t know — he doesn’t — he wants —
He doesn’t have time to finish the thought, because the bottle stops spinning and lands, its opening aimed directly at the tops of his feet.
“Oh,” Junhui says, dumbstruck. He looks up to find Joshua staring at him, eyes widened with surprise.
“Oh,” Joshua echoes.
For a moment they only stare at each other, awkward energy building between the two of them until Seungkwan’s bossy voice interrupts and breaks the moment.
“Are you guys gonna go or not?”
Minghao makes a concerned noise next to him, clearly about to offer a dare instead. Junhui waves him off, embarrassed at the fuss.
“We’re gonna go,” he says firmly, pushing himself to stand up. He’s relieved when Joshua does the same, standing on the other side of the circle and crossing to meet Junhui. Junhui tries to smile at him, but his nerves make it more of a grimace.
“Go, then,” Minghao says dryly from the ground. Junhui leans around Joshua to scowl at him but he only rolls his eyes, making a shooing motion towards the door.
Joshua laughs and goes, reaching for Junhui’s hand to pull him along.
*
In the bathroom Junhui hops up and perches on the edge of the counter, his heels banging against the cabinet doors as he swings his legs restlessly. Joshua closes the door behind him but doesn't come any closer.
“Sorry,” he says when Junhui raises a questioning eyebrow, letting out an awkward laugh of his own. It’s the first time Junhui’s ever seen him look nervous. “If you don't want to we don’t have to.”
“You’re nice,” Junhui blurts out without meaning to, his ears heating up as soon as he’s said it. Joshua smiles at him, though, eyes warm and amused, his earlier embarrassment already fading.
“Yeah?”
Junhui laughs, looking away. He doesn’t know what else to say.
“I don’t really know you that well,” Joshua says, when the silence stretches out too long. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves first.”
“Okay,” Junhui agrees, even though the idea of talking about himself right now seems so uncomfortable that he’d almost rather just kiss and get it over with instead. “Have you been here long?” he asks, getting a head start so Joshua won’t ask any questions about him.
“Like six months,” Joshua says, and Junhui nods. Maybe he should have known that — they share a class, after all. But Joshua doesn’t seem offended that Junhui asked.
“I’m here on an exchange,” he offers into the silence, after Junhui can’t think of any follow-up questions. “I was supposed to go to public school with my host brother, but — ” he pauses, making a face “ — turns out everyone overestimated my Korean skills, so.”
Junhui nods in understanding.
“I could help you study,” he offers, flushing as soon as he’s said it. Stupid — Joshua literally just told him he lives with a host family. He definitely doesn’t need anything Junhui has to offer.
“My Korean’s better than my English,” he adds uselessly, when Joshua tilts his head in confusion. Junhui watches the confusion shift into surprise, some amusement underneath. Joshua always looks amused, Junhui’s noticed. In calculus he sits at the front and smiles through the whole class period, every single day.
Junhui’d thought it meant it was easy for him, but the one time he asked Joshua about an assignment he’d been met with a puzzled smile instead. Finding out Joshua was bad at math didn’t make him any less attractive — kind of the opposite.
“But your host brother probably helps you,” Junhui continues, barrelling through the silence between them. It’s like he’s physically incapable of holding the words inside his mouth — if Minghao could see him right now he’d be laughing for sure.
Joshua does laugh, eyes crinkling into crescents, but Junhui doesn’t think he’s making fun of him.
“Oh, dude,” he laughs. “Absolutely not. He stayed with us for an entire summer in middle school and the only Korean word he taught me was ‘fuck.’”
Junhui barks his own sharp laugh, surprised and delighted. Joshua’s still smiling. It feels warm between them, like they’re sharing a secret.
“I bet I’d learn better from you,” Joshua says softly. Something lurches in Junhui’s stomach, recognizing the line for what it is, and he laughs again, a little helpless, not sure what to do next.
“Yeah?”
Joshua nods. Junhui wonders if he’s going to come closer for real, a thrill of anticipation building in his stomach at the idea, but then —
“What about you?” Joshua asks. “How long have you been here?”
Junhui fights a sigh of disappointment, hoping it isn’t obvious on his face but knowing that it probably is.
“Three years,” he says. “My dad had to come for work.”
“Ah,” Joshua says, nodding in understanding. “It’s just the two of you?”
Junhui nods, not sure what to do with the sympathetic expression on Joshua’s face.
“My mom and my little brother stayed in Shenzhen,” he explains. “They come visit for holidays.”
They come to visit, but Junhui hasn’t gone back. It’s been three years and he still misses it, even as his memories dull with time. He can’t remember exactly what the streets at home smell like anymore, only that they’re different from Seoul. When he eats hot pot here he knows the taste is wrong, but it’s getting harder and harder to pinpoint why.
The sympathetic expression on Joshua’s face doesn’t waver.
“That must be hard,” he says. Junhui shrugs, looking away.
“It’s not so bad,” he says, meaning it. At least he has his dad — Minghao’s stuck living with his aunt. He hasn’t seen either of his parents in over a year now. “I mean. It’s hard for you too, right?”
Joshua makes a sound of agreement, finally pushing away from the door to come closer to Junhui instead. Junhui’s stomach lurches, the back of his throat going dry. He clears it once, then again.
“We could talk about something else instead, if you want,” Joshua says. That quiet smile is back on his face, like he’s thought of a private joke. But Junhui thinks maybe he’s in on it too, now. He thinks he knows what’s making Joshua smile like that.
“We don’t have to talk about anything,” he says frankly and Joshua laughs, startled, his eyebrows raising with it. Junhui doesn’t give him time to follow it up with a response, reaching to grab his arm and pull him in instead, widening his knees a little to make room.
“Oh,” Joshua breathes, an echo of laughter lingering in his expression. Junhui can smell the cologne he’s wearing, and the beer on his breath.
His eyes are even nicer up close, Junhui thinks, before he closes his own and leans in.
Joshua’s mouth is soft against Junhui’s — he clearly uses lip balm, which Junhui takes a brief moment to feel self-conscious about before he gets distracted by the way Joshua’s hand comes to rest on his waist, the other one cupping his jaw.
“Your hands are really big,” Junhui pulls back to say, so close he goes cross-eyed when he tries to make eye contact. Joshua laughs, leaning back a little to wipe at his mouth with his arm.
“Is that bad?”
“No,” Junhui says immediately, using his ankles to make sure Joshua can’t get far. Joshua leans back in easily, still smiling.
It’s — nice. Joshua’s mouth is warm. Junhui likes the closeness, he decides. He thought it would be weird but it isn’t. Or — no. It is weird, it’s just.
Good weird.
They keep going like that, tilting to try to get the angle right as their mouths slide against each other, again and again until a sharp bang on the bathroom door startles them apart.
“Oh my god,” Joshua laughs, pulling back. His cheeks are even redder than Seungkwan’s were when he came out with Hansol, and Junhui feels a stab of satisfaction at the sight — he didn’t even know Joshua could blush like that.
“Wait,” he says, twisting behind him to run the sink, rinsing his hands in cold water and then shaking them before he turns back. Joshua laughs again when Junhui presses his cold hands right to his face, wincing a little at the sensation.
“I don’t think that’s gonna help,” he says wryly. He’s smiling, though. He doesn’t pull away.
“No, it will,” Junhui says seriously, turning to repeat the action one more time before he lets Joshua go. Joshua pauses to use the hand towel to dab at his face before he turns back, offering a hand to help Junhui hop down from the counter.
For a moment Junhui hesitates, unsure how what he’s supposed to do next. But Joshua smiles at him before he can overthink it, squeezing Junhui’s hand and then very pointedly not letting it go.
“It’ll be fine,” he says, sounding very sure of himself. Junhui barely has time to nod in response before he’s twisting the doorknob to let them out.
Everyone cheers as soon as they’re back in the room, just like they did for Seungkwan and Hansol. Junhui blushes immediately, overwhelmed by the attention.
Next to him, Joshua laughs.
“Come on,” he says, pulling at Junhui’s arm. “I want you to sit by me.”
Junhui lets himself be led, settling down on Joshua’s left. When he meets Minghao’s gaze the disbelief is clear on his face, eyebrows raised so high they’ve disappeared behind his fringe. Sorry, Junhui mouths. Minghao’s entire face contorts into a judgmental grimace.
The person next to Junhui chooses dare, breaking the streak of whatever what was happening in that bathroom. They have to call someone from their bio class, someone declares loudly — Junhui tunes out after that, not particularly interested in what happens next. He doesn’t think Joshua cares about that either, but he doesn’t know what to say to fill the silence. He fidgets awkwardly for a few moments before he gives up and pulls up his phone, unlocking it only to stare blankly down at the screen.
Joshua tugs the phone out of his hand before Junhui even has time to react, startling him so badly he can only watch, wide-eyed, as Joshua opens kakao and adds himself as a friend. He hesitates before sending himself a sticker, too, then locks it and hands it back.
“Sorry.”
It doesn’t seem particularly sincere — there’s a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, a mischievous look Junhui’s starting to recognize. Junhui laughs as he slips the phone back into his pocket, giving up on it for good.
“It’s okay.”
Joshua casts a glance around the room, taking in the way everyone has huddled around the poor dare recipient, laughing and yelling as they fight over her phone.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Junhui’s already halfway to his feet.
*
When Minghao finds them on the balcony an hour later he looks exasperated, eyes widening urgently as he taps an imaginary watch on his wrist. Junhui wipes his mouth and laughs apologetically, darting forward to press one more kiss to Joshua’s cheek before he untangles himself from where he’d been pressed against the railing.
“Sorry,” he laughs. Joshua only grins at him and shrugs, not seeming offended at all.
“It’s chill,” he says, eyes warm. “I’ll see you on Monday, right?”
Junhui laughs again, so overwhelmed it seems like that’s the only way to get it out.
“Right,” he says, still laughing, his cheeks stretched tight with the joyful force of it. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
*
Junhui shows up to class an unprecedented six minutes early on Monday.
Joshua’s already saved him a seat.