Archive of Our Own ^beta

oo1.

He is stressed; immensely stressed, over stupid numbers. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Onjo questions, nudging his ankle with the toe of her shoe. “Still can’t solve the problem?”

“Mm,” Cheongsan mumbles, chewing anxiously on the end of his pen. The longer he stares at the problem, the blanker his mind becomes, and the harder it becomes to solve. “Ah, fuck this,” he groans, tossing his uncapped pen to the side and running his fingers through his hair, a frustrated frown on his face. “God, I hate mathematics so much,” he grunts. “Our teacher’s also useless, which doesn’t help!”

“Ever thought about the fact that you might just be very bad at math?” Onjo asks, tone teasing, and Cheongsan directs an ineffective glare at her. “What? It's true! You’re always struggling with math. This isn’t the first time this has happened, you know.”

“And you struggle in all of your subjects yet you don’t hear me saying anything about that because I’m not here to get your feelings hurt,” he taunts, in which he receives a swift kick to his shin in return. 

He hisses in pain, eyebrows scrunching together, hand flying to the spot Onjo had abused with the toe of her shoe. He massages it with an open palm, glaring up at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he grits out. “That fucking hurt, you imbecile!” 

“Oh no no, Cheongsan, that’s no way to talk to a lady,” Onjo says, waggling a finger in his face, mocking, and he has half a mind to bite it, but he knows that's not going to end well so he reels himself in and silently sulks over it instead while nursing the sore spot. Her eyes flicker over his head for a second, then back to him; a smug smirk plasters across her lips. That’s never a good sign. “So ungentlemanly of you, Cheongsan-ah,” she coos. “Wouldn’t it be such a shame if your crush saw you acting out like this?” For someone who’s in the library, she sure is loud. 

Cheongsan frowns. “What on earth—” 

Before he could finish what he has to say, a soft ‘ooft’ leaves him when he feels something firm pressing up against his back, causing him to sway forward a little at the added weight. Arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him into a gentle back hug.

“I heard something about a crush? Who has a crush on who?” 

Cheongsan swallows heavily, the familiar voice washing over him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart’s skipping a few beats, and he’s kind of glad he’s sitting and not standing because he would be fucking fainting all over the place and that would be very, very embarrassing. 

Stop back hugging me stop back hugging me, stop fucking back hugging me, oh my god—

“Hey, Suhyeok. It’s nothing, Cheongsan’s just throwing a hissy fit because he can’t seem to figure out the equations here, and now he’s taking his anger out on me.” She scrunches her nose, resting her head on her hand. “It’s just so ungentlemanly of him, y’know? If he had invested as much energy studying for this subject as when he thirsted over your Insta—”

“Onjo,” Cheongsan warns, eyes widening considerably as his head snaps towards her. “Shut. Up. Shut up right now, if you know what’s good for you.” 

“Uh, are you threatening me right now, Lee Cheongsan? In front of the love of your—”

“Onjo. I swear to everything you love if you don't shut the hell up." 

Onjo sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line. She doesn’t say anything else, though, so that’s at least an improvement. 

Cheongsan could feel Suhyeok’s arm tightening around his middle, allowing Cheongsan to sink into his hug. It’s like he’s getting way too comfortable in hugging him like this and Cheongsan’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with this information. It's not like he can hug him back, so he's just left sitting here, trying not to freak the fuck out, the redness in his face probably spiralling out of control. “Who were you guys talking about?” he half asks, half whines. “Stop keeping me in the dark; spill. I deserve to know shit.”

“It’s nothing,” Cheongsan says, before Onjo could get another word in. He shoots her a warning glare, and she rolls her eyes, harrumphing loudly, muttering about how she wasn't going to say anything anyway and how he should stop being so aggressive towards her. He pretends he doesn't hear her. 

“So you’re the one who has a crush on someone?” Suhyeok teases, though he sounds kind of tense; it’s not the usual, lighthearted teasing, and it throws Cheongsan for a loop. It’s not Cheongsan’s problem though, and he isn’t about to make it his problem; he’s got way too many problems to deal with already and most of them involve the unsolvable equations sitting in front of him. Suhyeok slides into the seat next to him, sitting a bit too close for comfort; their thighs are touching, he’s so warm and now the alarm bells in his head are set off, wailing loudly and disrupting the peace that was once there. “How sweet.” He throws an arm around Cheongsan’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, and Cheongsan’s heart right about falls out of his ass at that moment. This shouldn’t affect him the way that it does; in fact, he should be quite used to it because Suhyeok seems to love hugging him one way or another, but here he is, affected and bothered and feeling much warmer than before. 

In all seriousness, what is wrong with him these days? 

“Who is it?”

“No one,” he answers, a bit too quickly, which doesn’t make him sound suspicious at all. Oh, not at all, not with the way Suhyeok’s eyeing him like he’s caught him doing the worst imaginable thing possible. 

“Come on,” Suhyeok urges, prodding his side with his fingers. “Someone in this school has captured your heart and I think I deserve to know who that is.” 

“No one has captured my heart, you absolute sap of a human being,” Cheongsan firmly denies. He closes his textbook and stands up, Suhyeok’s arm conveniently sliding off from his shoulders. “I’m done for today.” 

Onjo cups a hand around her mouth and leans over the table. “He’s sulking,” she stage whispers, drawing a laugh from Suhyeok and a vicious scowl from Cheongsan.

“This is exactly why I’m done for today,” he mumbles, haphazardly shoving his things into his backpack. “I’m being ganged up on and I think I deserve better than this.” He glances at his watch. “We should be getting to class soon, anyways.”

Onjo nods, sliding her textbook into her backpack. “True. You guys go ahead,” she says, zipping her bag up. “I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“We can wait—”

“Come on,” Suhyeok says, wrapping a hand around his elbow and tugging for him to hurry along. "We have so much to catch up on, apparently, because you never tell me shit. You’re a shit friend, you know? I tell you my deepest darkest secrets and yet you don't do the same. What's the point of this friendship if it's so one-sided?” he asks, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.  

“If this is about me having a crush on someone then for the last godforsaken time, I don’t have a crush on anyone! And even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

“Oh no, it is very much my business, because I need to make sure you’re not crushing on some notorious jerk or something. I can't have you be swindled by some asshole, 'cause god knows how foolish you are,” Suhyeok drawls out. “The walk from the library to our classroom takes a bit, so we have plenty of time for you to indulge me with your newfound love story for the centuries.”

Cheongsan rolls his eyes at the insult, shaking Suhyeok off of him. He's not that foolish, and it's not like he's ever been swindled before, either, so he's not happy to be perceived this way. “Please kindly piss off.” 

oo2.  

“Okay, so I’m going to need you all to participate, unless you want to fail this subject,” their teacher says, looking around the gym with a stern frown. 

“Failing physical education? Oh lord, how tragic would that be?” Onjo whispers, loud enough for Cheongsan to hear but not loud enough where everyone else in the auditorium to hear. 

Cheongsan bites the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from snorting at her remark. “Right?” he mutters back. “It’s honestly ridiculous. Literally no one takes this subject seriously.” He looks around as they start to get briefed on what they’re going to be doing today. After a quick scan across the sea of heads, a frown settles across his face when he notices something amiss. Or more like someone amiss. “Uh, where’s Suhyeok?” he asks after doing a double scan to make sure he isn’t seeing wrong. 

“In your head, and in your heart.” 

Cheongsan shoves her, lightly. “Shut up, you’re so annoying.” 

“I’m just saying,” Onjo says, taking an aim for his ankle. 

He dodges it easily (they're sitting, after all, so it's not like she can move as quickly) shooting a glare in her direction. “Stop trying to injure me. You’re my friend.” He glances at his watch. “Is he seriously late again?”

“They’re about to do a roll call — he’s going to get into trouble if he runs late again,” Onjo mutters.

“It’s going to be his third strike, right?”

“Mhm.”

Cheongsan’s thinking about making an excuse so he could go back into the changing rooms and fish his phone out of his bag to text Suhyeok, when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist, then a chin resting comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Clearly, you’re wrong about that,” comes Suhyeok’s voice, right in Cheongsan’s left ear. He’s so close. What the hell? When did he get here? How does he walk around without making any noise? 

“Oh my god, you’ve actually made it?” Onjo questions, and from Cheongsan’s peripheral vision, he could see the way Onjo’s eyeing them, with that annoying, knowing smirk of hers.

Oh lord almighty, does he hate her sometimes. 

He sighs inwardly, wrapping his hands around Suhyeok’s wrists. “Let go,” he says, softly. 

“Nah, I like it like this. It’s comfortable,” Suhyeok answers, nuzzling his face on his neck, and it takes everything in Cheongsan not to have a complete freakout over that. 

With his heart in his throat, he grits out, “Suhyeok—”

“You owe me this much after I covered up for you and lied to your parents yesterday.”

“Well, we can’t stay like this forever—”

“Then we can stay like this until we inevitably get separated.” 

Cheongsan sighs, relenting. “You really need to stop back hugging me out of no where,” he mumbles in concession, fingers tightening ever so slightly around Suhyeok’s wrists. Maybe it’s his imagination, but Suhyeok’s arms seem to tighten around him in response to that. Just slightly; slight enough for him to wonder if his mind is playing tricks on him; if he’s going completely insane. 

“Why? Does it make you want to risk it all?” 

He’s not too sure what he was thinking at that very moment, but he clearly wasn't thinking properly when he responds to that with a, “Maybe it does. What are you going to do about it?” 

He would have probably shrivelled up and died on the spot if Suhyeok wasn’t already holding onto him.

There’s a slight pause, before Suhyeok says, “I’m all in if you are.”

“Wha— what the hell does that mean?” 

A beat, stretching over a few seconds, before Suhyeok answers to that with, “It’s… Nothing. Just me teasing you because you were so serious there for a second. You’re an easy target, you know?” Okay, so someone’s about to be elbowed in the stomach. Why the fuck is he always like this? “On a side note… You’re very warm. Is this supposed to be normal?” 

A muscle in Cheongsan’s jaw twitches. “I— alright asshole, don’t ever talk to me again.”

oo3. 

“Hey, Cheongsan. Uh— can I come over?”

“…Like, right now?” 

“Yeah. I just need some company, that’s all. I’m bored out of my mind here.”

Cheongsan frowns, sitting up on his bed and crossing his legs. He can sense something’s off, but he doesn’t comment on it. It’s not like anything he says will make Suhyeok spill the beans. He’s going to lie about it like he always does, but he’ll let Cheongsan in on what exactly’s going on in his own time. He always does. Cheongsan knows him; knows him maybe a little too well. Either way, he’s learned to be patient with him, but there are a few possibilities on what this could be about. 

“Sure, come on over. My parents aren’t home so—”

“Oh?” There’s something light and teasing with the way he says that, and it makes Cheongsan roll his eyes, already seeing what’s about to come. He walked right into that one. 

He sighs, shaking his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, big boy, unless you want my kind offer to be your company for today rescinded in three… two—”

“Okay, Jesus fuck, you’re such a pest. Stop acting like it’s a huge a sacrifice spending time with yours truly,” he quips. “Tell you what? It’s a privilege to spend time with me, I hope you know that. So learn to appreciate it more, how about that?”

Cheongsan grins a little; falling into the routine of bickering over the dumbest shit possible has always been a thing between them, so this eases him a little. Maybe it’s not that bad. But then again, Suhyeok sometimes uses shit humour as a coping mechanism, so Cheongsan probably shouldn’t assume. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. Hurry on over, we don’t have all day.” 

—

“I’m telling you, it’s bullshit!” Cheongsan fumes, watching the kettle heat up. “You want some tea?” he adds, as if he wasn’t just yelling about his grades. 

“Yeah, sure,” comes the absent-minded reply. “Tea would be nice.” 

He pauses, raising a brow at that, but doesn’t think much of it (or at least tries not to think much of it — that's his strategy, trying not to do something, but it never works) as he continues on, “I swear I should have passed, but he seems to have something against me, which is why I almost never pass. I should probably take this up with the school, shouldn’t I? These bastards.” 

“Cheongsan, for the last time, no one has anything against you,” Suhyeok says, sounding rather quiet. Cheongsan catches himself wondering why for a split second there, concerned. “You’re just not the brightest of the bunch.” 

Well, now he’s not so concerned anymore. “That’s rich coming from you,” Cheongsan mutters. There’s a scraping of wooden chair legs resounding throughout the kitchen. He doesn’t think much of that. “Either way, I deserve better, and as my self pro-claimed best friend, even though Onjo and Gyeongsu are right there, I think you should agree with this conclusion of mine.” There are footsteps coming near him, slippers padding against tiled floors. Still, he doesn’t think much of it, a bit too focused on his task of kettle-watching, in which he'd assigned to himself. “Suhyeok?” he questions when he’s greeted with silence. He doesn’t think much of any of this, until Suhyeok’s arms are wrapped around his torso, his forehead resting on his shoulder — a blatant fucking attack which has him stilling completely. That’s when Cheongsan starts reeling, and he has to catch himself before he does anything stupid. “What—”

“Can we just— can we stay like this for a bit?” Suhyeok questions, softly.

Cheongsan blinks, something in his chest tightening at the tone of Suhyeok’s voice, the tension in his muscles ebbing away. “Hey. Are you… Are you alright?” Of course he’s not. Why does he always ask questions with the most obvious answers? 

“Yeah,” Suhyeok says. “Just… Family issues is all. Not a big deal. I’m used to it.” 

Cheongsan’s chest tightens more at that. And here he was, ranting about annoying teachers and his stupid grades when Suhyeok had other things to worry about. He probably came here to de-stress but he had to go and act like an insensitive prick by having Suhyeok sit through him complaining about shit that doesn’t really matter in the long run. Good lord, how incredibly embarrassing and inhospitable of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, carefully, hoping he isn’t treading over the ever thinning line between them. 

“Nah,” Suhyeok says, arms tightening around him. As they always. Fucking. Do. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Maybe not,” Suhyeok mumbles, giving in. “But I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Suhyeok, you know you can always talk to me,” Cheongsan says, gently, squeezing around his forearms. “I may not be the best at comforting people but I’ve learned how to be an active listener, you know?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” An inhale. “At least not right now. Maybe eventually, but not right now. Thanks for the offer though, it’s nice to know you care.”

Cheongsan bites the inside of his cheeks; he has so much to say, but if he says all of that, he might as well spill his guts out to him so instead, he says, “Of course I care. You’re my friend, the least I can do is give a shit. That's what friends are for, right?”

"Yeah," Suhyeok says, softly. "Friends." 

Cheongsan's gaze drops back to the kettle, trying so hard not to read into the gentle disappointment in his voice as he says that. He’s not sure how long they stand there for — Suhyeok hugging him like this has always caused him to lose track of the time and this time is no exception — but then the kettle’s boiling, and Suhyeok’s letting go of him, and he feels a tad amount of disappointment whirling in his stomach.

Which is kind of stupid, because this isn’t supposed to be about him. 

“Thanks,” Suhyeok says. “That helped a lot.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Cheongsan mumbles, back still turned on Suhyeok; he really doesn’t need Suhyeok seeing the reddish hue he’s sure has painted his cheeks. 

“Trust me, you've done a lot more than you think.” A pause. Then, in a softer voice, “You always do.” 

Cheongsan doesn’t say anything to that, opting to pouring them both a cup of tea and burning his tongue with the scalding liquid. 

He never knows what to say whenever Suhyeok says shit like that, because he's still getting used to it. 

It’ll probably take him about a life time to get used to it, if his abysmal math skills are correct. 

oo4.

The moment he feels someone hugging him from behind, he sighs. “Suhyeok?” he mumbles, continuing to type away on his phone. “What is it now?” 

“Onjo told me you left without her this morning,” Suhyeok answers, interlocking his fingers in front of him.  

Cheongsan feels a weight on his shoulder, and he can only assume it’s Suhyeok’s chin, judging from the familiar jut of it pressing into his shoulder.

“Is she looking for me?” Cheongsan asks, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media. He sighs, dramatically. “Tell her if she wants to take her anger out on my ankle, she can do that another time.”

“I was the one who was looking for you,” Suhyeok answers.

Cheongsan pauses, fingers hovering above his screen. “What? Why? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing happened.” 

“Then why were you looking for me?” 

“I don’t know, maybe because I missed you? I don’t always need to have a reason to look for you, Cheongsan. Why can’t it be just that I like your company? That I…” He trails off. “Never mind,” he mumbles. “Forget it.” 

“Yeah, sure, right,” Cheongsan mutters after a moment of silence. He clears his throat. “You need to stop ambushing me with your back hugs,” he attempts to joke, but it comes out sounding forced and awkward and now he wishes he could take it back. 

Suhyeok doesn’t seem to notice that, thank god. “You’re not exactly telling me to stop back hugging you, though.”

“You won’t listen to me even if I tell you to, so does it really matter? My words don’t hold much weight with you.” 

Soft breath tickles at his neck as Suhyeok exhales a gentle laugh against his skin. It doesn’t do his heart any good, with the way it misses a beat. In all honesty, he should probably get this checked up; this is clearly abnormal for a person his age. “I’m starting to think you’re into me or something. Or that you really like me.” 

Cheongsan’s breath hitches in his throat on the inhale. He lets out a short, nervous laugh, which sounds unnatural even to his own ears so he can only imagine how it probably sounds like to Suhyeok. He tries not to think about that too much, or else he's probably going to die from internal cringing. “You’re delusional.”

“That’s not me being delusional, it’s me being reasonably suspicious. Like, think about it. How could you possibly not like me? Or at least be a little into me? It’s statistically impossible.”

“You’re also a raging narcissist, I think.”

“It’s not narcissism, it’s being confident in myself,” Suhyeok quips. “If you say you don’t like me then you’re either lying, or you’re lying. Pick a struggle.”

“I could probably turn this back on you.” He glances down at his phone when he sees his screen lighting up with a message from Onjo. 

Onjo: stop messing around with suhyeok and come to class, you’re going to get into trouble

Cheongsan sighs. He doesn’t want to go to class, though. He’d much rather be here, and not because Suhyeok has his arms wrapped around him. Oh, definitely not that. He just likes... Sitting on damp grass and breathing fresh air. “Are you into me or something? Or do you like me? Is this why you’re asking me stupid shit like that?” 

“It’s not stupid shit. It’s a genuine question! You know, I wouldn’t mind it so much if you told me you liked me,” Suhyeok answers, clearly dodging his question. 

“You wish I did,” Cheongsan mumbles, finding himself leaning back into Suhyeok’s hug (he's making a habit out of it, it seems like). The school bell rings in the distance, but when he tries to stand up, Suhyeok holds him down. 

“Why are you in such a rush to get back? We should take this chance to chill out a bit." 

“We’re going to get into trouble,” Cheongsan points out, but he doesn’t make an effort on leaving after that, either. 

“It’s not like we haven’t gotten into trouble plenty of times before so what’s one more time going to do? Make the teachers dislike us even more?” 

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you befriended an idiot so that’s on you.”

“I didn’t befriend you. You were the one who wanted to be my friend in the first place, you weirdo. You’re also very clingy for a friend; I’m kind of regretting my decision.”

“Just for the record, I’m only like this when I’m with you,” Suhyeok says, voice mellowing out.

God, Cheongsan hates this so much, the fact that Suhyeok’s messing with his head without even realising it. Can he not? Fucking seriously. "Then stop.” 

“Nah,” Suhyeok answers after a beat, an easy lilt to his voice. “I don’t think I want to stop annoying you. Like, ever.” 

And Cheongsan has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t answer that with an, “Okay, fine. Then don’t.” 

But the temptation’s there. 

Worryingly so.

oo5.

“I think I have a headache,” Cheongsan mumbles as they make their way to the bus stop, Suhyeok trekking next to him; his hand brushes against Cheongsan’s and Cheongsan has to shove his hands into his pockets before he does something stupid. 

Something like holding his hand and not wanting to let go. Yeah, that would be so stupid. 

“Was tonight too loud for you?”

“Yeah,” Cheongsan answers, sighing. “I mean, it was fun, don’t get me wrong. But it was also a lot.” 

They come to a halt at a deserted bus stop, and Cheongsan shivers a little as a chilly breeze passes them by. It’s cold tonight, and he didn’t bring a thick enough coat to keep himself warm. 

“You cold?” 

“The forecast lied,” Cheongsan mumbles, bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep himself warm. “Told me it wasn’t going to be this cold but I was lied to.” 

Suhyeok stays suspiciously silent, then he says, “I’ve got an idea." Which... Doesn’t sound very promising. 

“Your ideas are never good ideas,” Cheongsan mutters, inching away from Suhyeok. 

“Oh, shut up, my ideas are golden and you hate to admit it,” Suhyeok says, stepping behind Cheongsan. 

“You’re not trying to push me into oncoming traffic, are you?” Cheongsan questions, genuinely concerned for his own life. He has a lot to live for, believe it or not. “Would that warm me up somehow?” 

“Love, I’m doing the exact opposite,” Suhyeok says. “Plus, you’re the last person I want dead.” 

“That sounds worrying,” Cheongsan mumbles, cheeks flaring up as Suhyeok comfortably wraps them both up in the coat he’s wearing, his front eventually pressing against Cheongsan’s back. It’s addictively warm, but it’s probably something he shouldn’t get too comfortable with. “Uh… What is this?” he asks, mind still reeling from this and from before. 

Love? Love? What in the absolute fuck. Who allowed him? And the fact that he didn’t take it back? This isn’t fucking okay. He keeps giving Cheongsan reasons to melt over, and good god does he hate the power this idiot holds over him. 

“I would take off my coat for you but it’s way too cold so this is the next best option,” Suhyeok explains, sounding so mighty proud of himself. It’s really kind of adorable; Cheongsan could picture the smile painted on his face, which leads to him wondering how it would be like to kiss it away, which makes his cheeks even hotter than before. Well, this is great, because these intrusive thoughts are really starting to ruin his life. “Body heat helps a lot in situations like these, you know,” Suhyeok adds, interrupting his train of thoughts. 

Kisses? Body heat. Oh my fucking god, nope. Nope, nope, nope. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a soft exhale, trying to calm his mind as well as his raging hormones, down. “Well,” he says, distractedly, “you are quite warm. You’re like… A heater?” 

That was the wrong thing to say, and Suhyeok proves him right on that. “Are you calling me hot?”

Cheongsan groans. “Oh my god, I walked right into that one.” 

“So you admit that I’m hot?” Suhyeok questions again, squeezing him. 

“Let’s get this straight — you radiating a comfortable level of body heat which is enough to keep me warm isn’t the same as me calling you straight up hot. There’s a difference; please don’t let it get to your head.”

They bicker back and forth, waiting for his bus to arrive, and the previous thoughts eventually slip from his mind. 

“Wait,” Cheongsan says, mid-argument over the same topic, “you don’t go the same way as me.” 

“I don’t,” Suhyeok confirms. 

“Then why are you waiting with me?”

“Because I like spending time with you,” Suhyeok answers easily. "Is that not a good enough reason?"  

“Dude,” Cheongsan says, wiggling out of his arms. He wishes he didn't, because now he’s cold again, and Suhyeok's no longer pressed up against him and he kind of misses it, but what’s done is done. He turns around to face Suhyeok, arms crossed over his chest, a disapproving frown slipping onto his face. “Go home. What are you doing?” 

“I’ll go home once you get on your bus.”

“Suhyeok—”

“Look, things aren’t looking too good at home and I just… Need an excuse to stay away for as long as I can.” 

Cheongsan blinks, softening considerably. He bites his bottom lip, staring at the other boy with a frown. “Oh, Suhyeok—”

“Don’t give me that look,” Suhyeok quickly cuts in. “Please just… Don’t look at me like that. I hate it, especially when it's from you.” His shoulders slump a little. "It makes me feel so pathetic when you're one looking at me like that."  

Cheongsan sighs. “I— I’m sorry,” he mutters, straightening his posture. He buries his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. His eyes leaves Suhyeok, falling towards the ground instead. “Maybe you could stay for the night?” he offers, without looking at the other boy. 

“Stay where?”

“My home? I mean, if you really don’t want to go back. My parents wouldn’t mind too much. They seem to love you, so…” 

“Can I really?”

Cheongsan scoffs a little, playfully. “You’re asking that when you sometimes come barging into my home like you own it, and demand to stay even though I tell you you can’t because you’re one distracting jackass?” He looks behind his shoulder, the distant rumbling of a bus catching his attention. The bus comes to a halt in front of them, and he quickly grabs Suhyeok’s hand, turning his head to look at him. “Come on,” he says, softly, subconsciously intertwining their fingers, like this is what he should have been doing all along. Suhyeok looks down at their hands, then back up at him, an indecipherable expression worn on his face. “If you’re not going home, then you need somewhere to stay. You’re definitely not going to some dodgy motel or whatever — even though you can probably afford it — so my place is the best bet.” 

“Are you guys getting on or not?” the bus driver questions loudly, peering down at them with a slight scowl. It’s clearly been a long night for them, judging from the tiredness lining their face. 

“Sorry, my friend’s just going through something!” Cheongsan calls back. “Suhyeok,” he urges, tugging at his hand. “Come on.”

Suhyeok sighs, relenting. “Fine. But only because it’s you.”

Cheongsan grins. “That’s a unique way to say you love me,” he says without really thinking; he notices a flicker in the other boy’s eyes as he says that, but he doesn’t comment on it, opting to wordlessly drag him onto the bus instead, slightly embarrassed at his own slip-up and not wanting to bring any more unnecessary attention to it.  

They make their way to the back of the bus. Cheongsan occupies the window seat on one of the two-seaters on the left aisle, gently tugging Suhyeok down into the spot next to him.

Suhyeok stares at him for a moment, before a soft smile makes its way onto his face. “You really are something, you know?” he asks, squeezing his hand.

Cheongsan glances at their hands, then his eyes flicker back up to meet Suhyeok’s. “Mm,” he hums, leaning back into the seat. He looks out of the window, hand still intertwined with Suhyeok’s, with no plans on pulling away any time soon. "Only because it's you." 

The bus pulls away from the kerb and is back on the road within seconds. 

He feels an added weight on his shoulder, and glances over to see Suhyeok resting his head on his shoulder, eyes sliding closed. His heart positively leaps into his throat, and he has to tear his eyes away so he doesn’t end up doing something outrageously stupid, yet again. He's spiralling the fuck out of control and he can't seem to stop himself, and at this point, he's kind of tired of trying, so maybe he'll just let it be. 

“Your hand’s very warm.”

“…Thanks.”

“I think we should do this more often.”

Cheongsan swallows. “That’s not happening.”

“Sure it’s not,” Suhyeok mumbles, a hint of a smile in his voice. “Wake me up when we arrive.”

So, there’s this one thing: Cheongsan had made a promise to himself he’s going to catch himself one day; that these feelings are only… Temporary. 

Now it seems like that was a promise made to be broken from the very start. 

oo6.

That realisation keeps him up for days, because it’s only now that he truly understands the weight of his situation — the weight of knowing how absolutely, royally fucked he is. 

It’s not fun, to say the least. 

“Sannie?”

Whomst the fuck? 

“What did you just call me?” Cheongsan questions as Suhyeok makes his way over to him, weaving between the chairs and desks, an air of gracefulness about him. Cheongsan watches him move about, swooning internally. Oh, he’s so down bad, it’s not even funny. He watches as Suhyeok grabs a random chair to sit in front of him, propping his elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands. 

“Are nicknames not allowed?”

“No, but no one has ever called me that before.” He crinkles his nose. “It’s kind of weird, honestly.”

“Well, I’m going to take that nickname and run with it, whether you like it or not,” Suhyeok says, grinning softly, then his face settles into a more serious expression. “So, tell me — what’s up with you?”

Cheongsan blinks at him, tapping the end of his pencil on the page his textbook is opened up to. He leans back to consider him. “What do you mean what’s up with me?”

“For one, you’ve been staying in here a lot during break time.” Suhyeok gestures vaguely around the room. “Second, you’re acting kind of aloof, so I… Kind of miss you, even though you’re right here. So yeah… Just wanted to know if everything's alright?” There’s a sliver of concern somewhere in there, but Cheongsan tries not to think too much about it, or else it’s going to mess with his head even further, which is exactly the opposite of what he needs right now. 

“I’m fine,” Cheongsan fibs, placing his pencil down. “Better than ever, actually.”

Suhyeok presses his lips into a thin line, considering him for a few moments, before he exhales. “If you say so. But just… Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” he says, eyes boring into Cheongsan’s. "I'd hate for you to feel like you can't talk to me for whatever reason."

Cheongsan swallows, nodding his head wordlessly. "Yeah, okay." 

Suhyeok clears his throat, shifting in his seat, now looking nervous and less serious than just moments ago. “Actually,” he says, eyes flittering away from Cheongsan. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Cheongsan raises a brow. “Shoot.”

“That night, when I stayed over…”

The first thing Cheongsan manages to conjure up in his mind is an image of them sharing his bed because Suhyeok had insisted he can’t sleep on the floor, and heat rises up to his cheeks. Good fucking god, this is not the time.

(They might have spooned, and Cheongsan might have been more than okay with it. Not the point.)

“Uh, yeah. What about it?” he asks, trying to sound calm and collected even though he’s freaking out on the inside. 

“…You were sleep talking.”

Well. Um? That’s not good. That’s not good at all. That’s pretty crappy news. Since when did he sleep talk, and why did it happen while Suhyeok was staying over? Why the fuck is sleep talking even a thing? 

“What did I say?”

“You didn’t make much sense, and I thought it was kind of funny at first but then… I don’t know who you were thinking of but I think you were confessing to them, maybe? I mean, surely saying ‘I like you’ counts for something, right? I don’t know, I could be wrong,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. 

Oh fuck no, Cheongsan thinks, mortified. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.

“What else did I say?” he asks, sharply, trying hard to keep his cool. It’s not working, because oh fucking lord, this is taking a turn for the worse.

Suhyeok leans back slightly, surprised at his sudden forcefulness. “Uh, that was all I could hear properly. The rest was gibberish.” He wrings his hands together, locking eyes with Cheongsan. “So… Who is it?” he asks, quietly. “I mean, Onjo did say something about you liking someone…” 

Cheongsan blatantly ignores that. “So I didn’t say anything else?”

“No…?” Suhyeok raises a brow. “Why are you so panicked anyway? This is starting to feel like an interrogation, and I’m not so sure I like it.”

A breath of relief leaves him, head falling into his hands. “Oh thank god,” he says, voice muffled. He glances up at Suhyeok. “Did you not sleep at all that night?”

“I mean… I can’t really sleep in beds that aren’t mine,” Suhyeok mumbles.

“And yet you insisted on sleeping in my bed and taking up half of my space?”

“Well, you fell asleep almost right away so it’s not like it affected you or anything! You were also clearly not opposed to us spooning, with the way you fell asleep so quickly.”

Cheongsan flushes. “Yeah, but still. You’re weird for that.”

“Stop calling me weird. I’m not weird. I just…” Suhyeok sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Anyways, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I already told you I don’t like anybody. Shouldn’t you be taking my word for it instead of Onjo’s? I mean, I know me better than she knows me, even though she does know me quite well.”

“Yeah, but I also feel like she’s not lying. She’s someone you tell things to.” It’s obvious what he’s referring to. He’s not wrong about that, either. 

They stare intently at each other, before Cheongsan breaks eye contact. “Well,” he says. “What if I tell you I do like someone?” he ventures carefully, without looking at Suhyeok. “What are you going to do then? Make fun of me about it?”

There’s a short silence in between, and Cheongsan’s thinking of taking everything he said back, until Suhyeok says, in a very quiet voice which makes Cheongsan wonder whether he’s heard him right or not, “Then I’d hope that person is me. Or would that be too delusional of me?” 

Cheongsan looks at Suhyeok — really looks at him — and wonders if he’s having a fever dream. 

Like, what? What the hell is happening right now? Did he hear that right or is his mind playing tricks on him again?

“What?” he manages to croak out. “That’s not funny.”

A muscle twitches in Suhyeok’s jaw as he clenches it, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to be funny. I—”

The classroom door slides open with a loud bang, and Gyeongsu peeks his head in. “Cheongsan! There you are! Onjo’s giving me a hard time and I need you as backup,” he grumbles. His eyes flitter over to Suhyeok, eyebrows raising. “Oh, you’re here with Suhyeok,” he says, sounding almost amused. “Sorry to interrupt your date happening in a classroom of all places—”

“It’s not a date,” Cheongsan says, quickly standing up from his seat, chair legs scraping against the floor as he pushes it back abruptly. “I’ll come with you,” he says, not because he particularly cares (no offence to Gyeongsu), but because he just needs to get out of here. Like, right the fuck now. 

Or else he might just combust. 

“You’re the best,” Gyeongsu says, making his way over to them and grabbing Cheongsan by the wrist. 

Cheongsan spares a glance in Suhyeok’s direction and sees him staring back at him with a frown, and he feels bad, but not bad enough to stay behind and listen to him blabber bullshit like that any further. Is he out of his mind? Probably. That’s the best possible explanation Cheongsan can come up with as to why he’d say something so ridiculously unbelievable. “We’ll talk later,” he finds himself saying, before Gyeongsu’s tugging him out the door and down the hallway.

—

So talk later they do. 

Much, much later.

Suhyeok had given him the time and space to think and he appreciates that a lot. 

And Christ, did he have a lot to think about. 

“Hey,” Cheongsan says, tugging meekly at Suhyeok’s sleeve while they’re leaving the classroom. He had dawdled behind for a reason, and he isn't going to waste this chance while he still has the courage to say what he needs to say.

Suhyeok cranes his neck to look at him, and as always, a smile dawns upon his face, which makes him feel very bad for the way he walked out on him like that the last time they had a proper conversation (which was about a week ago, which makes him feel even worse) and the way he’s been acting around him since: awkward and jumpy, and like he doesn’t want to be around him for any longer than necessary. 

I really am the worst fucking person ever. Lord have mercy on me. 

Come to think of it, he’s been doing a lot of avoiding lately, especially when it comes to Suhyeok. Avoid this, avoid that, avoid him. It’s all a bit pathetic, now that he gives it a proper think over. 

(On a side note, he misses Suhyeok’s smile, but no one needs to know that. He also feels like he doesn't deserve to have him direct his smile at him.)

“Hey,” Suhyeok says, turning around to face him, “what’s up?”

“Uh. Hey.” He smiles, nervously. “I— I think I’m ready to talk.” 

“…Oh,” Suhyeok says, face falling a little and oh god, now Cheongsan feels even worse. He’s not sure what to make of that, but it’s definitely not something positive. 

“Suhyeok, please don’t look at me like that,” he says instead of offering words of comfort. Good god, he’s so bad at this. “Because frankly, it’s making me so fucking nervous for the dumbest of reasons and I kind of hate it.”

Suhyeok blinks down at him. “Oh,” he murmurs, taken aback, a twinge of hurt flickering across his face and oh god, why can't Cheongsan shut up when it's necessary? He rubs at the nape of his neck, awkwardly. “Sorry…? I didn't mean to—"

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m just…” he trails off, shaking his head. He sighs; his thoughts are all jumbled up, not knowing where one starts and where one ends. “Let’s just… Go. We’ll talk somewhere else."

—

The bus ride to Cheongsan’s place is filled with awkward silence, and Cheongsan’s slowly dying on the inside as the seconds crawl by. 

When they finally get off the bus without Cheongsan imploding on the inside, he purposely dawdles behind Suhyeok, staring at his back. About a hundred thoughts is running through his mind, with one of them being very distinct. Everything else is a blur, except for that. He’s been thinking it ever since he got onto the bus:“Real talk, Cheongsan. This is a word of advice. Either you tell him how you feel, like, now, or you sit on it for god knows how long until he moves on and you end up regretting not telling him. I mean, it’s your choice, but I also hate seeing you moping around like this. So yeah. Do yourself a favour, and tell him?” Onjo’s voice repeats in his mind, her words sounding like they’re coming from a broken record in the deep recesses of his brain, and he clenches his fists, his jaw set in determination.  

He makes up his mind in the middle of the street while they’re making their way to his place, before he could give himself another chance — another excuse, to waver. He glances around and seeing that the coast is clear, takes one stride, two, three, then—

“Cheong… San?” 

He’s not too sure where the spike of courage came from, but it doesn’t really matter anymore, because he’s about to do the thing. 

“Listen,” Cheongsan says, forehead resting against Suhyeok’s back, inhaling shakily. “First of all, I’m sorry. For everything, and for the fact that you ended up liking someone who’s a selfish prick; who’s scared to get his own feelings hurt.”

“Dude, where is all of this coming from?” He can hear the confused frown in his voice. 

“I told you to listen,” Cheongsan murmurs. “God, you never listen to me.”

Suhyeok scoffs lightly at that. “You’re one to talk.”

Cheongsan exhales, arms tightening around the other boy. “I’m doing this because I’m fucking embarrassed, and I don’t want you looking at me while I do this because I’m scared I might end up chickening out. That's... That's the last thing either of us need. But, um… You know the person I like? The crush that I kept denying the existence of?” 

Suhyeok’s breath noticeably hitches at that, and Cheongsan's heart surges with hope. “Yeah?” he says, slowly. "Yeah, I mean, I don't know them, but yeah to the last part. You denying their existence or whatever," he rambles. 

“Well,” Cheongsan says, just as slowly. “You know how you said you… Hoped that person would be you, if they did exist?” 

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean that?”

“Cheongsan,” Suhyeok says, sighing. “I’ve been so transparent with you—”

“Just answer the question,” Cheongsan cuts in.

“Okay,” Suhyeok says, exasperated. “Yes. I meant it. I still do.”

Cheongsan smiles a little, a huge wave of relief washing over him. “Good. That’s more than good. It’s great, because it is you.”

There’s a good two seconds pause, before Suhyeok’s twisting around to face him, eyes wide. Cheongsan peers up at him, cheeks red. 

“Because I like you more than I care to admit,” is what he would have said if Suhyeok hadn’t interrupted him by cupping his jaw and kissing him silly. 

oo7.

Things don’t change much after that, other than the fact that Suhyeok’s a little more touchy feely with him than usual. He’s used to it, and he likes it, so he’s not complaining. 

But then he’s also like this while in public, which is a bit nerve wracking. It’s not the hugs that are a problem, he’s very used to that; it’s the way Suhyeok’s lips seem to find his no matter the time and place. He’s still getting used to that, the eagerness of his idiot boyfriend who’s just so affectionate with him. 

Again, he’s not complaining. He kind of likes it like this. 

“Hey, love,” Suhyeok mumbles from behind him, soft voice in his ear. His arms are wrapped loosely around his torso, holding him back from reaching up any higher to get the books he wants on one of the higher shelves.

“Dude, people are going to see us,” Cheongsan hisses, falling back onto the heels of his feet, laughing a little when Suhyeok leans forward to press a firm kiss to the side of his neck. “Oh my god, you’re so…”

“Amazing? Yeah, I know. I’m the best boyfriend you could probably ever ask for.”

“I mean, you’re my first so you can’t be be so sure about that.”

“And I’m determined to make myself your last,” Suhyeok declares, with so much sincerity it causes a warm, tingly feeling surging through his veins. Cheongsan bites back a smile, smitten. “Anyway, there’s no one around. We’ll be fine,” he says. 

“Right,” Cheongsan says, twisting around to face Suhyeok, with a little difficulty because Suhyeok doesn’t seem to want to let go of him. “And what if people do see us? What then?” 

“I think half of the student body knows about us by now,” Suhyeok answers, shrugging nonchalantly. “And a little adventure is always sexy.”

“You’re going to make me act up one day, I swear,” Cheongsan mumbles, shoving lightly at his chest. “So I’m going to need you to not be like this, Lee Suhyeok, because it’s genuinely not good for my health.” 

Suhyeok grins, tipping his chin up. “Then why don’t you? Act up, I mean.” He hums, softly. “Side note — you should say my full name more often, it makes me so fucking weak in the knees. I love it.” 

Cheongsan rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I don’t like you enough to want to risk getting caught.”

“But you’re already engaging in risky behaviour just by being here with me, so… Make it make sense?” Suhyeok leans in, and Cheongsan raises a brow. 

“Mm,” he hums, reaching up to cup his jaw. His eyes flicker down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. “You’ve got a point.” 

“Yeah?” Suhyeok questions, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “I think we can risk it just a little, no?”

Cheongsan glances around. There’s no one around, that’s true. He glances back up at Suhyeok, relenting. “I guess we can,” he says, then he’s bringing him in for a kiss; his fingers tangle into his hair, other hand fisting the front of his shirt to bring him in even closer. Suhyeok’s lips are warm against his, familiar and gentle. 

As much as it is nerve wracking, it’s also a bit addicting, kissing him in secluded aisles of school libraries and hidden alcoves nobody else knows about, and maybe it’s his hormones talking because he’s only so young, but he might just be a little in love, too. In love with Suhyeok, he means, not just because Suhyeok has him pressed against a book shelf while kissing him like he couldn’t give a shit if the world burned down around them right this second. 

It does make for bonus points, though.

When he pulls away, he flattens his palm against Suhyeok’s chest, feeling the light thrumming of his heartbeat against his palm, a shadow of a smile making its way onto his lips. 

“Trying to feel out whether my heart beats for you or not?” Suhyeok questions, earning himself a light smack on the chest. “Because you don’t have to worry — it only beats for you, love.” 

“You’re so disgustingly cheesy, you know that?” Cheongsan says, but his smile tells them both he’s pretty alright with it. 

“But you like it cheesy,” Suhyeok responds with a little grin, drawing him in for another kiss.

When they leave the library sometime later hand in hand, with the collar of Suhyeok’s shirt slightly crumpled, his hair a mess, and Cheongsan sporting a suspicious looking bruise, half peeking out from under the collar of his school shirt, no one comments on it.

Because quite frankly, Cheongsan had slowly come to learn, what they do is no one else’s business but theirs. 

And he quite likes it this way.