Work Text:
The first time Sunoo meets Jungwon is an absolute nightmare.
Tuesday shifts are meant to be easy, quiet, and fast. Sunoo’s dimwitted poodle roommate and subsequent best friend, Park Sunghoon, somehow manages to ruin eight hours in one. Single. Minute.
“It was an accident,” he whines, frowning childishly while Sunoo swipes a muddled mess of soaked napkins into the bin he’s carting around.
“You are an accident,” Sunoo snaps. He hates Sunghoon, he hates today. “Do you need childproof cups or something? Was a lid not enough for you?”
Riki, laughing loudly, is no better. Sunoo sends him the meanest glare he can manage and watches his smile slip away, spotted tail tucked in fear.
“Actually, I don’t think you secured the lid well enough.” Sunoo doesn’t even need to say anything to frighten his friends into apology.
He seethes while retrieving the mop, because the unfortunate vanilla latte has made for quite a sticky puddle. When the door jingles with another customer, he quickens his fumbling around in the supply closet.
For the sake of Sunghoon’s dumb poodle brain, the mop stays in the closet, Sunoo’s fingers snagging the swiffer.
“Why are you behind the counter?”
“I’m trying to help you out,” Riki beams, poking around the cash register. Sunoo slaps his hand away before he can begin a transaction that hasn’t even taken place yet. He looks up at the guys standing on the other side of the counter.
It’s Jongseong. And Heeseung. And someone else he’s never met before.
“The day Riki gets a job is the day we must abolish the workforce,” Jongseong says with a grave expression.
“The workforce isn’t ready for me, anyway,” Riki sighs, rounding the counter and rejoining Sunghoon with the swiffer in tow. Sunoo doesn’t even remember giving it to him.
“Sorry,” he apologizes to Jongseong and co. “Sunghoon made a mess.”
Jongseong’s unfamiliar cat friend snorts, tail curling around his left leg. “A bit clumsy for a figure skater.”
The novelty gives way to intrigue. Sunoo tries to be subtle when sweeping his eyes over a new face, a feline face. A very pretty and intimidating feline face. “He skates better than he walks. Or drinks coffee, apparently.”
The cat has a good laugh. An excellent one. His face scrunches, plump cheeks rising like dough, brightened eyes snapping closed with the force of it. Sunoo is enraptured.
He blinks out of it to take their orders.
Heeseung slinks away after Jongseong cuts him off mid sentence-
“Can I get-”
“I know your order, babe. You get the same thing every time.”
-and joins the pitiful swiffering party taking place in the corner. Jongseong and his friend linger by the pickup counter while Sunoo whisks through their drinks.
He drops Heeseung’s tea off first. Then Jongseong’s espresso. Finally, a milk heavy latte.
Jongseong says, “Sun, have you met Jungwon? I don’t think I’ve introduced you two yet.”
Sunoo would remember a face like that, a laugh like that. He shakes his head. “Nice to meet you! I’m Sunoo.”
Jungwon takes a peek at the mug he holds and his entire face lights up. “Sunoo, the impressive latte artist.”
Embarrassment creeps up his spine. Maybe he hadn’t thought twice about illustrating a tiny whiskered face onto the top of Jungwon’s drink. “Mediocre at best.”
There’s a dash of something in his expression, something playful and coy. “Impressive to me, nonetheless.”
They part with promises to meet again, all of them, maybe at a bowling alley as per Riki’s insistence. Jungwon leaves with a perky, swinging tail, his perfect lips pulled up in a smile.
Sunoo thinks about it all for the next three thousand business days.
He doesn’t have a type, no matter how many times Sunghoon insists he does.
The broken hearts Sunoo has left behind have little to nothing in common, not even a first initial or hometown. They’re different because he doesn't have a type, but Sunghoon just won't let it go.
“First of all, male-”
“If that’s all you’ve got, Sherlock-”
“Dimpled, feline, snarky but in a sexy, authoritative way, aquarius-”
The more shit he lists off, the more Sunoo’s face crumbles. There is nothing more despicable than a Sunghoon that is right.
“I get it,” Sunoo drags a hand over his face. His ears twitch with irritation. “I fucking get it.”
His roommate relents with a pleased little hum and it’s so infuriating that Sunoo has to excuse himself just to take a walk.
He hasn’t seen Jungwon since that one fateful day at work, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking, and thinking, and thinking about him. It keeps him up at night. What good acts must he commit in order for the universe to send Jungwon back his way? He’ll consider them all unless they involve stupid, maniacal Sunghoon.
Sharp lines and supple cheeks. A curling, frisky tail. The pinkest, plumpest of lips. God, he’d do anything for just one more run-in. Anything.
Anything comes in the form of one desperate, Friday night Jongseong.
“Please, Sun, just this once. I’ll pay you.”
“I don’t want your money,” Sunoo tsks. “You’re already the community piggy bank.”
Jongseong frowns so deeply it makes him look ugly. Sunoo can’t bring himself to feel bad.
“I still don’t understand what you’re asking me to do,” he shakes his head, watching Jongseong sink into the seat across from him. He had hoped to settle into the library, catch up on some notes and maybe work ahead before sleeping it all off in his queen sized, memory foam slice of heaven. But if god has favorites, then Sunoo isn't one of them.
“Just tag along tonight,” Jongseong pleads, his hands clasped together. Sunoo notes the droopiness in his ears and voice, the way his whiskers are almost frowning, too. “And then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend. Scout’s honor.”
Sunoo narrows his eyes into that hard, challenging glare he’s been told is awfully threatening. “You want me to third wheel you and Heeseung.”
“You wouldn’t be third wheeling,” he insists, and there’s a moment where it looks like he isn’t going to elaborate before deciding better. “So. Jungwon is going with us.”
The name jumpstarts something inside of him, but he maintains a neutral expression. If Jongseong ever knew he had leverage, Sunoo would never see his beautiful bed again. “You don’t like Jungwon?”
Jongseong’s eyebrows furrow. “What? No, no, we love Jungwon it’s just-” If possible, his ears droop even more with his sigh. “He gets. Judgy. About PDA. And it’s been awhile since Hee and I have gone out together, just us, and it’s- you know, who knows how many of these we have left together before he graduates-”
“Is he dying? I’m pretty sure party invites don’t expire as soon as administration scratches your name off the university roster-”
“Sunoo,” Jongseong snaps. The shift in tone tugs a little harder at Sunoo’s last thread of stubbornness. “Please. I don’t ask for much.”
Which is true, and Sunoo can’t come up with anything else snarky to say. “Fine,” he throws his hands up. “I’ll tag along and distract Jungwon from your attempts at public indecency. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Jongseong gives a curt nod, rising from his seat. “Be ready by 9, please.”
Sunghoon is in the living room when Sunoo gets home, one with the couch and a bowl of treats in his lap. He doesn’t pull his eyes away from Cars 2, doesn’t even say hello.
“My day was great and it’s lovely to see you, roomie,” Sunoo greets for him, dropping his keys on the counter and toeing off his shoes. “Thank you so much for asking!”
“Could you keep it down over there,” Sunghoon shushes, vaguely gesturing to the television. “Mater just found out there’s a bomb in the cockpit.”
“This movie is a fever dream,” Sunoo slumps down next to him and steals a handful of popcorn.
It’s also Sunghoon’s comfort movie, which must mean there’s something wrong. The last time they’d watched it together, Sunghoon’s parents had just gotten divorced.
Sunoo reaches up to scratch behind his curly ears, the one thing that makes his shoulders loosen and relax. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” he grumbles. “Just a bad day.”
Sunoo doesn’t say anything more, and Sunghoon doesn’t either. They finish the movie in silence, tails quiet and unmoving at their sides.
“You probably don’t want to come to a party, do you?”
Sunghoon blinks dazedly when he flips a lamp on, and only then does Sunoo realize he’s been crying. “Who are you going with?”
“Um, just Jongseong and Heeseung and that guy, Jungwon,” he swallows. “Sunghoon, you know if you need to talk-”
“Do you know what you’re wearing yet? You should figure that out.”
Sunoo gives up, at least for now. The clock is ticking, anyway.
Jongseong rings their doorbell at nine o’clock sharp, loosely gelled hair flopping over his forehead in straggling strands. He’s alone.
“Heeseung and Won are in the car,” he flicks his eyes over Sunoo’s outfit with a hum of approval. “You look cute, Sun.”
Of course, Sunoo already knows this. What he does not know is what Jungwon is going to think of him at second meeting, and that’s why he gets jittery.
“Thank you,” he chirps, snagging a jacket off of the coat rack before shooting his roommate one last, saddened glance. “Let’s go.”
“I heard about what happened with Taehyun,” Jongseong mumbles once they’ve made it into the stairwell. “That’s brutal. How’s he doing?”
Taehyun and Sunghoon got together sometime in early spring, maybe six or seven months ago, and haven’t been seen without each other since. Riki calls it a whirlwind romance, but everyone else just calls it ‘moving too fast’. They’d already talked of engagement and children by summer. Sunoo could only hope that it would last.
But he hadn’t heard of anything going wrong. Not recently, at least. “What happened? He won’t tell me anything.”
“Oh,” Jongseong tugs on a frown, and his eyes shift like he regrets saying anything. “Well, it was pretty public.”
Sunoo winces. “The quad?”
“The library,” he corrects, sounding miserable.
“He broke up with Sunghoon in a library?”
Jongseong nods. “I wasn’t there, but Jungwon was. He could probably tell you the whole story. It honestly just made Taehyun look bad, if anyone.”
That’s… good. Better than the reverse. Sunoo just hopes Jongseong isn’t pity lying to keep him from worrying too much.
Heeseung’s Kia Soul, aside from being humankind’s ugliest creation to date, is actually quite cozy. He sits beside Jungwon in the back, a seat of space between them, and listens to Jongseong pester Heeseung about song choice in the front seat.
But he can’t stop thinking about Sunghoon and his unfortunate breakup. Threads of guilt weave themselves through his polyester sweater sleeves, itchy and uncomfortable despite rolled down windows and a soothing breeze. While Jungwon hums along to one of Jongseong’s favorite songs, Sunoo faces out the window silently.
Even when they park a couple streets down and take to the sidewalk, when the corner is rounded and heavy beats and sharp laughter slap him right across the face, Sunoo’s guilt never quiets. He thinks of Sunghoon curled up all alone beneath his thermal alien sheets, wet with snot and tears, and shaking the thought proves impossible after ten minutes.
Heeseung and Jongseong take off as soon as they step foot through the doorway, lost to shadows and sweaty throngs. Jungwon dutifully follows Sunoo into the kitchen.
He pours them drinks. Jungwon takes one sip, gags, and promptly pours it down the sink.
“Sunoo,” he announces, nearly as loud as the speakers, “Let’s dance. Will you dance?”
For just a second, a beat, Sunoo’s heart stalls. “I’ll dance. Let’s dance.”
Four songs in, only half a shot in his system, it isn’t enough. That guilt prevails, still, and nothing seems to be working.
Jungwon tosses something out about getting some air. As they carve a path towards the patio, he links their pinky fingers, presumably to stay together. Regardless of reasoning, Sunoo feels his breathing slow.
September weather never makes sense. Tonight, he had dressed for a chill, dark cashmere sleeves now pushed up around his elbows, jacket forgotten in Heeseung’s backseat. Jungwon shrugs out of his own jacket to tie it around his waist.
The warmth surrounding them is comfortable. A hydrangea bush by the fence catches Jungwon's eye, who flicks his tail and scampers over to smell.
He waits thirteen seconds to say anything.
“Jungwon,” Sunoo breaches softly, fingers tightly wound around his phone. “Do you- would you mind if I left early? My roommate is going through some shit, and I feel bad.”
Jungwon hums and lifts his gaze from the bushes. “Can I come with you?”
Sunoo’s eyes flit back to the open porch doors, to where Jongseong and Heeseung must be violently making out, lost in the thrum of a crowd. When he meets Jungwon’s eyes again, the confidence in them wavers, matched with some ear flattening and the hesitant swish of his tail.
Sunoo decides he doesn’t like apprehension, not when Jungwon is the one to wear it. “Of course you can.”
He sticks close by a sweater sleeve, sidestepping and smiling his goodbyes until they both make it out onto the front lawn.
Cloudless, sparkly skies clarify the sidewalk, conversation interrupted only by the lightest of breezes, perfect weather to walk in. This is his entire justification for making Jungwon walk all the blocks back to his apartment.
“Jongseong said you were there? For the breakup?”
A grimace passes over his face. “Yeah. It was rough.”
Sunoo nods along, but he doesn’t say anything else, hoping Jungwon will continue.
Jungwon notes the silence. “Did he not tell you what happened?”
“I couldn’t crack him,” Sunoo admits sheepishly. “How bad?”
“They were up by the front desk,” Jungwon says, “I was at the back. By the magazines. I heard every word.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
Curiosity spurs Sunoo to prod, “What, um, what did Taehyun say?”
Jungwon eyes him. “Shouldn’t you wait for your roommate to explain?”
“I’m scared he won’t tell me everything and I’ll never know how to comfort him,” Sunoo answers honestly.
A nod. A swallow. “Lots of… subtle jabs. I’m pretty sure the entire campus thinks Taehyun has some kind of god complex now.”
Sunoo has no idea what that means, but it doesn’t sound good. “So Taehyun broke up with him?”
“Yeah,” Jungwon frowns. “Amongst other things, he said it was because Sunghoon wasn’t interesting enough.”
Yiiiiikes. “I’m going to kill him.”
Jungwon sighs. “I’ll join you.”
Silence settles. That guilt climbs back up his throat, but for a different reason, now.
“I’m sorry for not being much fun,” Sunoo mumbles, embarrassed by his decisions. “The first time we hang out, too. God.”
“No, it’s okay, really. You care about your roommate. I get it.”
“Sunghoon is really sensitive,” he blurts, alarmed at the ease with which he finds divulging delicate information to this very new, unknown friend. “I just worry about him. No one ever treats him well.”
Jungwon hums. “Jongseong used to be like that, too. When we were kids, people would walk all over him because he was so nice. It hurt to watch, but Heeseung is better at dealing with it than I ever was.”
“How long have you known him? Jongseong, I mean.”
“Our parents were best friends before we were conceived,” he stresses. “We were doomed from the start. A forever friendship. Or whatever.”
Sunoo laughs. He likes the way Jungwon speaks, so dry with his humor, calm and careful with everything else. “So you grew up together? You were there for his senior prom?”
Jungwon’s eyes light up. “When he bathed in expired cologne and showed up to dinner covered in hives? Of fucking course I was.”
Most of his friends know how to tell a good story, but Jungwon was born a storyteller. Every sentence, syllable, facial expression fits perfectly. He makes Sunoo laugh so hard he has to stop walking.
He listens to Sunoo’s stories in turn, laughing at all the right parts.
“We should have a podcast,” Sunoo finds himself spouting at the tail end of his laughter. It sounds better in his head. Spoken out loud, into the September air, it feels a little juvenile.
Jungwon grins, wide and wild and entirely undeterred. “We should absolutely have a podcast.”
They drop by a corner store to pick up some snacks, stomp on crunchy leaves, laugh into the sky. By the time his apartment slides into frame, the warmth of early September has seeped beneath his skin.
“Do you know what you want to do?”
Peeking down at the plastic bag of snacks in his hands, sneakers taking the stairs two at a time, Sunoo hums inquisitively. “With what?”
Resounding silence answers him. It takes a second for Jungwon to speak again. “With your life.”
Part of him wants to laugh because fuck no. A smaller part of him wants to impress the cat at his heels with something grand. The biggest part of him just wants to be honest.
“Not a clue.”
“Great,” Jungwon says, and it isn’t a jab or even a shade of sarcasm. It’s genuine. “Something else we have in common.”
Sunghoon appreciates their spontaneous return even if he doesn’t outright say it. They watch the other Cars movies, all of the shorts, and Jungwon suggests a Pixar binge when Sunoo thinks it might be getting late. He had been worried, initially, that Sunghoon wouldn’t have enjoyed the company, the desire to be alone much stronger, but he hops on the opportunity before Sunoo can say a word, eagerness evident in his wagging tail.
He doesn’t want to be alone. Which is fair. Sunoo probably wouldn’t want to be either.
After Ratatouille and the first Toy Story, Sunghoon succumbs to peaceful snores on the other end of the couch, collapsed in a comfortable heap of blankets. Jungwon smiles.
“Success?”
“You kept him laughing,” Sunoo says softly, not sure why he even felt the need to ask. “Of course it was a success.”
The weekend passes and Sunoo forgets that he has a life waiting for him outside of his apartment. Monday morning arrives with a bright sky and a chill, and the horrible realization that he’d fallen asleep without setting an alarm.
Despite getting dressed faster than he ever has in his life and skipping three steps in his skincare routine, Sunoo doesn’t make it to class. Stepping out of the bathroom at 8:16, remembering his ten minute commute, there is simply no point in showing up thirty minutes late to a required math credit that he shares with six of his friends.
He shoots Yuna a vague text begging for a library catchup session later. Then, he notices Sunghoon’s light, or rather the lack of it, and figures he shouldn’t let his roommate miss a class too.
“Sunghoon,” he knocks a few times before letting himself in. “Don’t you have a lab at nine?”
The lump of sheets and comforter grunts, unmoving. God, it smells in here.
“Come on, I’ll walk you. Go take a quick shower.”
It takes a bit, but eventually, with a lot of bribery, Sunghoon stumbles out of their front door, dressed and showered and on time. Sunoo follows quietly.
He feels eyes on his back as they cut through the quad, wisps of rumors that trail at his heels. Where Sunghoon ducks his head, Sunoo keeps his chin raised. He knows Sunghoon is starting to crumble already. It’s important he maintains a strong wall.
Unthinking, desperate to distract, he blurts, “What do you think of Jungwon?”
Sunghoon levels him with a raised eyebrow. “You know I knew him before you did.”
Sunoo did know that. He doesn’t know why he asked. “Right.”
“Are you asking me what I think of you and Jungwon?”
“No,” he splutters, even though Sunghoon hit the nail right on its head. “I was just- I didn’t know if you liked him or not.”
He knows Sunghoon isn’t convinced, but he hums to humor him. “Everyone likes Jungwon.”
Sure sounds like it. There’s nothing else to say before Sunghoon gets shepherded into his hall by his professor.
Whatever. Sunoo can think about it while he dies a slow death in the library later, or while he spends the next three hours before his literary lecture doing whatever the fuck around campus. He’s considering finding Riki’s dorm and waking him up just to bug him, and then he sees Jungwon.
There’s a spring to his step, a pep in his swinging tail. Sunoo wonders if he should shout, or run up to greet him.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to do anything. Jungwon spots him easily, ears perking and a smile spreading broadly across his adorably dimpled face.
Unbelievable.
“How’s the roommate,” Jungwon asks first, probably because he knows it’s right at the top of Sunoo’s priority list.
“Better,” Sunoo shrugs. “Isn’t crying as much.”
Jungwon crosses his arms and gives a hum. “And how are you?”
How is he? Not really awake, a little sleep deprived. The fur of his tail slightly mats with a thin layer of grease, the product of neglecting his own personal hygiene to make sure Sunghoon wasn’t doing the same. Substantial food has evaded him, sunlight hasn’t stepped foot in their apartment since Friday morning, everything is fucked.
“I’m alive.”
“Always good,” he nods. Sunoo takes note of the bag slung over his shoulder, a simple cream tote dotted with stars. So cute. “Can I buy you a coffee? And… breakfast?”
The answer, of course, is hell yes. Jungwon leads him downtown, off campus, to a peachy diner drizzled in pastels. They claim a table by the window, and order tall stacks of cinnamon apple french toast.
Jungwon gets a latte. One sip in and he’s sporting a frothy milk mustache.
Fucking. Cute.
“Here,” Sunoo smiles, prying a napkin out of the holder and reaching across the table. “You’ve got a little…”
Giant, curious eyes follow the movement, soft grey ears twitching in interest, as Sunoo swipes the napkin swiftly across Jungwon’s upper lip.
It’s quiet.
Cherry red embarrassment renders them both speechless. Sunoo knows the crimson of his cheeks must match his hair, his ears.
“Sorry-” It comes out at the same time, the two of them.
Jungwon grins. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Sunoo’s lips curl. “Then neither do you.”
Seconds spent staring and smiling pass like fallen leaves. It’s a gentle thing, a moment much more meaningful than it must look from the outside.
“I asked Jongseong about you,” Jungwon breaks their eye contact to watch his own fingers fiddle with a straw wrapper. “After we first met.”
Surprised, Sunoo lets out a laugh. “Why?”
“I’ve never met a fox before,” he admits bashfully. “I was curious about what you were like.”
“And what did Jongseong say I was like?”
Jungwon raises his head up to meet gazes again. He tries not to smile. “Well, he said you were playful, and really, really smart,” he tilts his head a bit analytically. “And he said you care a lot. About all kinds of things.”
Warmth floods his chest, spreads down to his fingertips. He loves his friends more than anything.
“Did I meet your expectations?”
“What?”
“For a fox.”
“Oh, I don’t really- I don’t really have those. Species expectations, I mean. That’s why I asked.”
Sunoo’s grin gets impossibly wider. “So am I playful? Smart? Caring?”
Jungwon squints at him. “Are you fishing for compliments? I think you are.”
“I’m just curious about your opinion of me. We’re still getting to know each other. What if you actually really, really don’t like me?”
“I wouldn’t have asked to buy you breakfast if I really, really didn’t like you, dummy. Put that ginormous brain of yours to good use, would you?”
“You asked about me,” Sunoo leans back in his seat, unable to fight the smile that is making his cheeks ache. “That's so cute.”
“Calm down,” Jungwon grumbles, pink cheeks and all. “But yes. You are.”
Sunoo furrows his eyebrows, already having forgotten his earlier question. “I am…?”
“Playful.” He flushes. “And smart. And very, very thoughtful.”
“Oh.” Sunoo’s bravado is gone from just seconds ago. Uncharacteristic shyness takes its place. “Thank you.”
Their waitress returns with two plates stacked high with french toast, covered in powdered sugar. She sets them down with a kind smile.
Jungwon digs in quickly. He douses his plate in syrup, slicing an apple heavy bite and popping it into his mouth. Sunoo watches his tail swish against the seat.
“If this isn’t the last thing I eat before I die,” he mumbles, words muffled by toast, “I will be very upset in the afterlife.”
Sunoo follows suit, going a little lighter on the syrup and taking a bite. “Oh god,” he groans immediately. “If they don’t have these in the afterlife, I will be very upset.”
Breakfast runs later than he thought it would. By the time they get the check, Sunoo’s phone is pinging with a reminder for his twelve o’clock.
They’re a good fifteen minute walk from campus. “Shit. I need to go.” He rustles around in his bag for his wallet. “How much is-”
“Go, Sun,” Jungwon waves him off with a sweet, dimpled smile. “You can pay next time.”
Next time. Fuck yeah.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” He slides out of the booth, tugs his backpack straps on, looks at Jungwon. “Thank you. Text me the next time you want food or- wait, my number, you need my number-”
A small but forceful hand shoves at his side.
“I’ll get it from Jongseong! Go to class!”
Half an hour later, smiling to himself at the back of his lecture hall, Sunoo finds a fingerprint of powdered sugar on his jacket sleeve.
He leaves it be.
Breakfasts with Jungwon become a Thing. And then bowling with Jungwon becomes a Thing. And then roller skating. Dinners in E Hall. Movie nights. Midnight FaceTime calls.
There’s this thing, this very small, very fleeting thing that Jungwon does when he isn’t paying attention, when he allows his mind to wander and slip from his grasp. Two twitching ears. They move with his eyebrows, sometimes. Sunoo notices because he couldn’t not, but he likes to think that other people find it just as endearing as he does. That other people find Jungwon just as endearing as he does.
They do not.
“Have you noticed how his tail flicks when you tell one of your horrible jokes?”
Sunghoon gives him an intense, scrutinous glare. He asks, “Why would I notice that?” and it squeezes all the remaining helium right out of Sunoo’s big, ballooned heart.
He’s in over his head, he knows he is. Jungwon ordered a milk-heavy latte just over a month ago, but Sunoo just wants more and more and more, everything he can get, anything he can get. He’d drain every last cow on fucking earth if it meant one more frothy milk mustache for Jungwon to wear.
God, he’s so cute it’s almost illegal.
“Maybe if you looked up from your screen once in awhile,” Sunoo chooses to jab instead, because swallowing molten lava is easier to deal with than an eruption. “I notice lots of things about our friends.”
“Right,” Sunghoon nods. “Any cute, endearing Heeseung habits you’ve happened to pick up on recently?”
Fuck Sunghoon. Fuck Sunghoon so hard. “Um. You’ll be the first to know. If I catch any.”
He doesn’t need to say much else. Sunghoon can read him like a battered paperback copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. That is to say, extremely well.
“You guys have been hanging out a lot.”
Sunoo’s sugar spoon stills in its mug. He admits he didn’t expect Sunghoon to be so direct quite so quickly. “That’s usually what you do when you’re friends with someone.”
“Why are you being snarky? I’m just saying. It’s been awhile since you liked someone this much.”
“Well.” No point in arguing with the truth. “He’s nice.”
“He’s nice,” Sunghoon deadpans, leaning heavily onto his palms pressed into the countertop. “You’re not sacrificing your sacred after class naptimes for someone just because they’re nice. Come on.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to admit that you have a crush on him.”
“Don’t you already know that,” Sunoo snaps.
Sunghoon shrugs, like the devil. "It's nice to hear directly from the source."
"You're insufferable, honestly."
"I'm concerned about you," and the shift in tone tells him as much. "I've never seen you like this before."
"I've liked plenty of people."
"Not this much."
Sunoo thinks of Jungwon's giant, crystal ball eyes, the deep craters of his cheeks, the way he smiles with his entire body, tail flicking with his laughter. Everything about him.
"I really don't want to fuck this up," and it's the most honest he's been in over a decade.
"Then don't," Sunghoon says, like it's a stupid thing to worry about. "Just do you."
“You know, for someone who overthinks the ratio of his hair part, you sure don’t stress about giving other people advice.”
“What do you want me to say? I can’t imagine a doomsday scenario would be good for your brain right now.”
“I don’t know,” Sunoo exhales, feeling guilty for the snark when Sunghoon is just trying his best. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone like this.”
“I know,” Sunghoon gently smiles, shaking his head. “You’re both special people. You deserve each other.”
So much of their friendship depends on teasing, on a steady back and forth, on trivial, light conversation. Hearing something so genuine from Sunghoon makes his skin feel too tight.
Suddenly unsure, his voice drops to a whisper. “You think so?”
“Sunoo,” he exasperates, an air of fondness to it. “You’ve never doubted your worth before. Don’t start now.”
“Right,” Sunoo nods, as convincing as he can manage. “I deserve this. I deserve to be happy.”
His best friend pats him on the back. He thinks that’s going to be all, but then Sunghoon leaves him with,
“Your therapist should be paying me.”
Jaeyun turns twenty-one in November, and the week before that, Jongseong throws him a small party.
Small meaning small. The guest list is seven people long, one of which is Jaeyun himself. Jongseong extends the invitation to Sunghoon and Riki- Riki, for his entertaining, youthful energy, and Sunghoon, for Jaeyun’s pitiful, puppy dog crush on him.
It’s a good, wholesome time. Sunoo sits happily beside Jungwon on the couch and watches Sunghoon wail while he loses every video game imaginable. Jaeyun has this cheap, ridiculous tiara on, a last minute dollar store purchase, and he slides it off his own head to place it on Sunghoon’s.
Jongseong beats Heeseung in karaoke. Truth or dare ends with Riki’s socked foot in the toilet. Jaeyun braids a strand of Sunghoon’s hair, and it’s cute at first, but watching feels invasive after a minute.
Jungwon leans his head on Sunoo’s shoulder. Sunoo fiddles with one of his soft ears. “Tired?”
“Today kicked my ass,” Jungwon exhales and plays with the cuff of Sunoo’s sleeve.
“You need to stop letting these days beat you up,” Sunoo takes his hand and molds it into a fist, pushing it forward in a light punch. “Fight back, Wonie.”
Jungwon laughs something small. He flattens his hand out and presses it to Sunoo’s, twining their fingers together. “You’re ridiculous.”
The world slows down a little, a lot, completely still. A bolt descends from the sky and strikes one of his fingertips, illuminating the prominent veins of his hand. Everything is on fire. If he hones his hearing, past all the sharp ringing, he can hear the Mario Kart theme.
He’s held Sunghoon’s, Jongseong’s, Riki’s hand before. Never felt like this.
“Sun, could you get me a sharper knife from the-” Jongseong, furiously trying to cut the cake with a plastic knife, freezes. His eyes zero in on their hands.
“Sure,” Sunoo, red as a rose, moves to stand up.
“Nope, never mind. Stay right where you are.” Heeseung beats him to it, sliding past them and shoving Sunoo back down onto the couch.
Jungwon grins and gives his hand a squeeze. His head finds its way back onto Sunoo’s shoulder.
They stay like that while Riki sets up a game of Fifa. Sunghoon taps out. He rises from his spot on the floor and falls back onto the couch next to Jungwon.
“You people are obnoxiously good at games,” he grumbles. His head lolls back against the cushion, eyes finding Jungwon and Sunoo’s woven fingers. “Oh gross.”
Sunoo snorts. “Homophobe.”
Sunghoon huffs. “And?”
“Cake time!” Jongseong waves a lighter around.
Riki pauses his game, peering over at the cake with a frown. “Why did you cut it up before we even sang?”
“Because he knew you’d be hovering over his shoulder like a vulture as soon as Jaeyunie blew the candles out,” answers Heeseung, a teasing smile on his face.
Jongseong nods. “It was preventative.”
Sunghoon flips the lights off and sidles up next to Jaeyun. The tiara finds its way back onto its original owner, cheap gems sparkling with flickering candle flames.
They sing. It’s horrible, because everyone picks a different key to start, but Jaeyun smiles so wide you wouldn’t be able to tell. When he blows out his candles, he stares right at Sunghoon.
At least the cake is better than their singing- some kind of fluffy buttercream sandwiched between two soft angel tiers. After an immersive two-week baking class over the summer, Jongseong’s been taking birthdays and special occasions all the more seriously, volunteering to make something whenever he can. Just last week he surprised Sunghoon with a tupperware container jampacked with brownies, a sticky note with cute cartoon penguins thanking him for a borrowed pencil.
Sunoo almost feels guilty devouring a slice. The icing sits so perfectly pretty, symmetrical strawberries plump and pressed into the top.
“Cater my wedding,” Riki groans, mouth full of cake. “Or my next bio class. Cater my morning routine, Chef Jongseong.”
Once plates have been cleared, Fifa game unpaused and Sunghoon and Jaeyun pressed together again, Jungwon says he should probably go.
“I’ll walk you,” Sunoo says.
Goodbyes are quick, promises to get together again traded between hugs. Sunoo glances at the floor, where Jaeyun and Sunghoon continue their game, oblivious to anything going on outside of their bubble.
“Sunghoon,” he calls out, biting back a smile when his roommate jolts and whips around. “I’m walking Jungwon home. You’re good getting back, right?”
“Oh.” An exhale, an unsure peek at Jaeyun.
“I can drive you,” Jaeyun offers with a smile. And it’s that easy.
Outside, Sunoo shivers beneath his coat, tickled with gusts of wind. A minute of compatible silence passes before he feels his teeth start to chatter.
“Oh my god,” Jungwon coos. “I can’t believe you’re shivering! Come here.”
Quiet sidewalks bear witness to the flush that overwhelms Sunoo’s face. The startled noise he makes when Jungwon tugs him closer echoes back once, twice, before it peters out and dissolves into sacred silence.
There’s an arm around his shoulders. A warm one. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, thumping mindlessly.
Jungwon stops walking.
Above them, a clear sky. Wind whistles and scoops up scattered leaves at their feet, dropping them off farther down the street. The chill of before doesn’t sting as much as it did twenty seconds ago.
Sunoo stops walking, too. He pulls away, warmth falling from his shoulders, and meets Jungwon’s charged gaze.
They’re close now, much closer than he would have ever thought they could get, noses brushing with each blink and breath. “Sunoo.”
A gentle breath. “Jungwon.”
“Would it be too soon to say I want everything with you?”
The air in his lungs dispels at once, not even with an exhale. One moment he’s breathing, and the next there could never be enough oxygen on planet earth, never enough to live off of. “You do?”
Jungwon nods fervently. “If that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay,” Sunoo says breathlessly, slotting a hand just below Jungwon’s perked up ears. “I want everything with you, too.”
The idea that someone could make him feel this much with this little, with the simple action of smiling or a quiet brush of fingertips, is so exhilarating it makes him a bit dizzy. Jungwon cups his face with those small, pretty hands of his, and he waits until Sunoo meets his eyes. The air around them blows with a reverent breeze that ruffles the fur of their ears.
“Can everything include a kiss?”
Impossible to suppress is the smile that spreads at that, easy and overpowering and perfect. Sunoo leans in closer, brushes their noses together, and says,
“Everything can include whatever you want, Wonie.”