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“what’s got you so hopped up?” sehyoon asks, tilting his head like he’s not being a fucking menace. byeongkwan knows better; behind the face of an angel lurks pure evil.
“oh my god, shut up,” he snaps on instinct, rolling his eyes. he can’t help the giddy smile crawling over his face, though, can’t help the excited tapping of his toes against the cheap, laminate floor of the cafe. he readjusts the straps of his backpack, lifting the weight of it off of his shoulders for just a second, and wiggles a little bit to let some excess energy out. “your constant stream of rabbit jokes are outdated and beyond offensive.”
sehyoon grins in answer, brushing a hand back through his thick, dark hair. he’s leaning against the low wooden counter between them, left hip propped against it casually. right now his apron’s clean, freshly pressed since he had both yesterday and the day before off. byeongkwan knows it’ll be wrinkled and covered in espresso powder by the end of his shift. (well, okay, probably by the end of this order.)
“sorry,” he says, in fact not sounding sorry at all. one of his pointy ears twitches, then, and byeongkwan knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he’s about to say something idiotic. “see if you can find it in yourself to forgive an old hound his tricks.”
“we’re practically the same age,” byeongkwan starts off loudly (that much is a blatant lie — sehyoon is fully three and a half years older than him). “and you’re not a dog. none of that made sense, dude. how’d you even get into this school?”
“couple felonies. bribery, mostly,” sehyoon answers promptly, and byeongkwan huffs an impatient sigh before wiggling again.
“as interesting as i would normally find your family’s ties to the underworld, i actually came here to tell you something,” he says, straightening to full height and folding his hands together on the countertop primly. when he continues, he attempts to imbue an appropriate level of gravitas into his tone. “i have news. big news. the biggest of news, actually.”
“oh?” sehyoon says, raising a brow in good-natured interest. he punches byeongkwan’s usual order into the register by memory, not even bothering to wave away his offered debit card. that whole song and dance is a little more than a formality at this point. they’ve had each others’ card numbers memorised for going on a year. (and, like. okay, maybe that’s not a super safe thing, but it’s very convenient when one of them is drunk and demanding takeaway or is otherwise being a dick and deserves to pay asshole tax.) “a mystery. intriguing. sounds like carrot juice is gonna be on the house today, then.”
“hyung,” byeongkwan whines, trying not to visibly preen. he actually loves when sehyoon spoils him — he loves nothing more than to be doted on and treated like royalty. it’s one of his remarkably few character flaws. “you don’t have to do that. what if your manager catches you giving me stuff again?”
sehyoon shrugs, the grin sliding back over his annoyingly symmetrical features easily, and steps over to the produce basket to start pulling vegetables out. his white tee shirt pulls across the length of his shoulders pleasingly, and byeongkwan shifts his gaze away. “fuck capitalism. guess i’ll get fired. then i’ll lose my apartment. then i’ll just move into your dorm and stay with you.”
he bites down on his own laugh, trying to ignore the silly, happy curl in his stomach at the thought of sneaking sehyoon into his cramped little room forever. “grad students can’t live on campus, dummy. you’d get kicked out of there too.”
sehyoon seems to consider that for a moment, sniffing a carrot before putting it back and picking up another that appears to be identical in every way. he smells that one too, nods to himself, and begins efficiently loading the barrel of the juicer.
“i’d bribe your building manager with free drinks every day. no one can resist the downhome charm of king,” he does some stupid pretend martial arts move (byeongkwan knows for a fact that he has never taken a lesson in his life), “WOW’s smoothies. all organic, all delicious, all the time.”
“god, you’re so lame,” byeongkwan says on a sigh, slumping forward and propping his head in his hand. “i have no idea why i’m even friends with you.”
sehyoon furrows his brow before touching his own chest, feigning both confusion and hurt all at once. “because of the smoothies, kwannie. i literally just said that. now go get a seat, i’ll bring everything out and you can tell me your big news.”
byeongkwan sighs again, shaking his head, and doesn’t even attempt to argue. it takes up far too much energy when he’s already working so hard to push back the fondness rushing to fill the space in his chest like cool spring water.
the coffee shop where sehyoon works is sleepy this time of afternoon, post lunch rush but pre end of school day. the lights are warm and low, only turned halfway up courtesy of the dimmer switch donghun begged for last year until jun broke in after hours and physically installed himself, and there’s just a handful of other people present in the room.
a group of four or five woodland hybrids crowd a booth in the far corner and byeongkwan waves before settling at his own little table halfway across the way. he recognizes a couple of them from campus, maybe one from the recreational whack-bat league yuchan made him join last spring. a brunette raccoon hybrid waves back, and byeongkwan realizes they had an art class together sophomore year.
he pulls out his laptop while he waits and has to tamp down on the gleeful squeal when the screen comes up and once again reveals the message that brought him all the way out here in the first place.
it’s friday, and he’s got plans tonight.
by the time sehyoon makes it to his two-person table, hands full with both matching glasses of juice and a slice of carrot cake, byeongkwan’s practically vibrating in his seat. his right foot won’t stay still, happily tapping the fake tile floor at a hundred kilometers per hour.
“all right, thumper,” sehyoon says, carefully setting the glasses and plate down before tossing himself into the opposite chair. then he grins, propping his head up with one hand cupped over the round of his cheek. there’s a mischevious sparkle in his eye. “what’s up —”
“call me doc and i’ll bunny-kick your teeth in,” byeongkwan says, suddenly dead serious. even his foot’s stopped moving. “two jokes in one breath is too much to take, even coming from you.”
“noted.” sehyoon accepts the threat with a nod, pushing the plate across the slightly warped table top in silent apology. byeongkwan holds his glare for a second longer before he breaks into a grin, accepting the cake as tribute. “do go on, please.”
byeongkwan can’t keep it in any longer. he singsongs the next bit, shimmying his shoulders as he speaks. “guess who got invited to min hyunseok’s party tonight???”
sehyoon blinks, taking a long sip of his drink and rapping against the tabletop with his knuckles after. his tail swishes behind him. he’s clearly nonplussed. for his part, though, he does try to play along. “um.... you?”
“US!” byeongkwan says, too loud in the quiet of the cafe. he winces and glances around at the other patrons apologetically before continuing at a more socially acceptable volume. “well, okay, yes, technically me. but, like. you’re gonna come too, right?”
“hum,” sehyoon says, considering. byeongkwan puts on his best puppydog eyes, shamelessly aware that sehyoon has never denied him a single thing throughout the entirety of their friendship. sure enough, after no more than a half second spent deliberating, his shoulders drop and byeongkwan knows he’s won. “he’s that handsome tiger you’ve got a crush on?”
“hyung,” byeongkwan says, going warm in the face, “the tiger was last semester. hyunseok’s a grey housecat and you know it. i’ve been talking about him for weeks. i showed you his instagram like three days ago.”
“ah,” sehyoon answers, stealing a bite of cake after draining the rest of his juice and standing up. byeongkwan guesses his impromptu break is nearly over now that the bell over the front door is jingling. he talks while chewing, his puffed out cheeks awfully cute for him being absolutely disgusting. “right. sorry.”
“so?” byeongkwan asks, a little desperate, a little impatient. his foot’s tapping again. he’s weirdly nervous, got that vague sense in his gut that everything needs to be absolutely perfect tonight or his entire life will fall apart or something. sehyoon’s presence always makes that feeling go away. “will you come with me?”
“yeah, okay,” sehyoon finally says, tilting his head. he steps around the table and reaches forward to brush a stray crumb off of byeongkwan’s cheek. byeongkwan nuzzles his hand and leans into it, blinking slowly up at him. looking at him from this angle has always felt sort of like sitting in the sun. already, the nerves in his tummy feel less intense.
when sehyoon speaks again, it’s softer. like he knows byeongkwan needs that from him right now. “of course i’ll go with you, dummy. would you be my model for the portrait series i have to do next week?”
“i would never dream of depriving professor choi the privilege of gazing upon my beautiful face,” he says, just as quietly. he’s gratified when sehyoon’s smile grows into that special one. the uneven one he only ever seems to get when it’s just the two of them. byeongkwan basks in the warmth of it, the excitement and anxiety skittering around the edges of his mind settling into something calmer. it soothes him, in a way that he didn’t realize he needed. “come pick me up after your shift?”
“i’ll be outside your dorm at eight,” sehyoon says, tucking a stray lock of hair back off of byeongkwan’s forehead. and the action is so sweet, so tender — it makes byeongkwan pause. it makes him wonder if there isn’t a world out there where things are slightly different between them.
he loves their friendship. cherishes it more than anything else in the world. and, of course, they’re soulmates. they’ll always be soulmates, no matter what. byeongkwan believes that full stop. but maybe. maybe, in another time, in another place... they’re a little bit more.
he blinks.
“don’t be late,” he says, mostly to cover the lump growing in his throat. it’s completely unnecessary. sehyoon’s never once been late to pick him up. “and, full disclosure, i’m dressing like a slut tonight.”
sehyoon’s gentle smile cracks into a grin at that, his lingering touch shifting into playfulness. byeongkwan squalls when his carefully styled hair is mussed up. “wouldn’t have it any other way.”
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
byeongkwan does, in fact, dress like a slut for the party.
when he finally steps outside of his building (at eight oh nine, not that it matters), sehyoon does a double take from the car.
dark eyeshadow, an ultra cropped baby blue tee shirt, shorts so small that sehyoon knows they must expose no less than thirty percent of his asscheeks, and —
“are you wearing heels?” he asks out the window, wondering how he’s surprised at this point. byeongkwan hates being short even compared to the other omegas, has always made a point to either stand on his toes or conveniently jump on someone’s back for group pictures. he’s not exactly subtle about it.
byeongkwan pauses, still a couple meters away. he frowns down at his feet, clearly hesitating. sehyoon notices that his toenails are painted a delicate, seashell shade of pink and something in his stomach shifts. “...yeah. channie said they make my ass look fat and they were on sale. do you think they’re too much?”
“not possible,” he answers, pointedly looking down at his steering wheel when byeongkwan steps in front of the car to avoid catching an eyeful of that cute little fluffy tail. his knuckles are white, his dumb alpha lizard brain trying to go into protective mode. and it’s stupid, so stupid — byeongkwan’s more than capable of defending himself. sehyoon knows that better than anyone. he doesn’t quite filter the next words out of his mouth as byeongkwan gets in, too focused on remembering how, exactly, to drive. “but your ass always looks fat. you don’t need heels for that.”
sehyoon blinks when he realizes what came out and decides not to address it, instead pulling out onto the main road in a timely enough fashion that his bullshit mid-2000s gps recalibrates and resentfully tells him where best to turn around.
“hyung,” byeongkwan says after a stunned silence. sehyoon tries not to wince, glancing across the front seat to check how much irreparable damage he’s done to their friendship. byeongkwan’s eyes are rounded in surprise, brows pulled down in the center. his full lips shimmer, some kind of peachy gloss making them even more magnetic than usual. sehyoon’s heart stumbles in his chest, anxiety forming a knot at the base of his throat.
“thank you so much,” byeongkwan says, hushed. he sounds sincere.
sehyoon blows out a breath and unclenches his hands from the wheel. he chances a glance at their eta glowing on the tiny, cracked screen between their seats: five minutes. thank fucking god. “anytime. you said jun and donghun are going too, right?”
“you tryna ditch me before we even get there?”
sehyoon snorts at the moderately offended tone. byeongkwan’s dramatics are endearing in the best way. “yeah, no. don’t think i’m gonna be the one ditching you. just making sure i’ll have someone with more than two brain cells to hang out with while you’re occupied.”
“hmph,” byeongkwan says, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the window. the action shifts his shirt enough that his sparkling navel ring becomes visible, and sehyoon has to bite his lip to keep from making a fond comment about it.
he got it pierced two summers ago — dragged sehyoon down to busan for an extended beach weekend and then insisted on getting blackout drunk on the sand every afternoon. one of those hazy evenings, they’d found a hole in the wall tattoo shop and stumbled their way inside. byeongkwan had planned to have his ears done as well, but they’d found out a little too late about his debilitating needle phobia.
byeongkwan had ended up fainting during that very first piercing and without anyone present to act as sehyoon’s impulse control, well. he’d made a questionable decision himself. not a single person bar junhee has seen the tattoo in the years since.
probably best not to bring up the trip at all.
“oh, hyung, i think we’re here!” byeongkwan chirps, drawing sehyoon from his varied regrets. indeed, the apartment complex they’re about to pull into looks appropriately posh enough to house one of byeongkwan’s many love interests.
“hell yeah,” sehyoon says, sizing up the doorman. that means there’s almost certainly a valet as well. score, he thinks, when he sees the empty podium. maybe he’ll tip a little extra, get his car washed while they’re here. “let’s go find some trouble.”
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
it takes byeongkwan approximately six minutes to zero in on min hyunseok once they enter the party. the apartment is, perhaps disappointingly, not his style at all. it’s gorgeous, of course. all of the furniture looks straight out of that one issue of vogue sehyoon mistakenly received instead of his neighbor two months ago.
but there’s something about it that sets byeongkwan’s nerves on edge. maybe it’s all of the people milling about, crowding the already small rooms. maybe it’s the music, just this shade of too loud for comfort against his sensitive ears. maybe it’s the fact that there’s no pictures anywhere, no sense of who hyunseok is as a person at all.
in any case, it doesn’t matter much. byeongkwan’s not here to move in.
he finds a distant acquaintance from history class standing in the kitchen in direct line of sight from where hyunseok lounges on one of the couches and decides to make his entrance.
“jinha, you’re looking lovely tonight,” he says before leaning across the counter, ostensibly to reach the beers (to show off his ass on the high chance hyunseok’s looking). jinha’s pretty brown eyes narrow, one of her ears flicking suspiciously. she’s a deer hybrid, beautiful and shy, and byeongkwan wonders if they’ve ever actually spoken before.
“don’t think you’re here for me,” she says shortly, and byeongkwan blinks, surprised. and, okay, maybe he has a bit of a reputation. but it’s college. he’s young. he likes to have a good time — there’s nothing wrong with that. “if you were, wrong tree, wrong bark, dude.”
whoops.
“sorry,” he says, biting his lower lip and shaking his head bashfully. “i wasn’t trying to —”
her eyes drift upward, over his shoulder, and a quiet understanding flickers across their depths. a slow, sly smile curves her painted mouth into an arc. “oh,” she says softly. byeongkwan flushes hot, though he doesn’t quite know why. “good for you, kim. it’s been long enough.”
she slips away, leaving byeongkwan to wonder what on earth she could possibly mean. he’s only been interested in hyunseok for a few weeks. a month, max. and, beyond that, he thought he kept that crush pretty close to his chest. has he really been that obvious?
before he has the chance to turn around, parse out exactly who jinha thinks he’s trying to fuck, a towering presence appears at his side. byeongkwan breathes in, glancing up through his lashes in a way that he knows reads as both innocent and alluring.
hyunseok stands with a red cup in hand, shoulders pleasantly broad and skin glowing even amongst the colourful backdrop of the crowd. byeongkwan stills, taking him in. he looks like a model, all sharp edges and dark eyes. he looks dangerous. like a good time. like exactly what byeongkwan wants tonight. “hey kwannie-yah. you look good.”
“good enough to eat, i hope,” byeongkwan says, smiling when hyunseok’s brows rise. he’s never been one to beat around the bush. he turns to lean back against the counter and glances around, exaggerating his boredom for effect. “you gonna give me a tour or what?”
hyunseok breaks into a grin, the shine of his teeth catching on the overhead light. he looks around the kitchen, shrugging and tossing his cup into the open garbage can at the end of the bar. he makes the shot, and somewhat dorkily pumps his fist in celebration. byeongkwan decides it’s cute. “start with the bedroom?”
byeongkwan huffs out a little laugh, excited shivers tumbling down his spine. he stands up, leaving his unopened can on the counter to become someone else’s problem. “where else?”
the butterflies in his stomach grow into a frenzy when hyunseok takes him by the hand to lead him through a tightly-knit throng of party guests, more than one set of jealous eyes catching his on the way. their anger feels like victory.
so too does the unrestrained desire with which hyunseok grips his waist and ass, once they’re alone in his dark bedroom. byeongkwan smiles, leaning up to fit their mouths together. he doesn’t even have to stand on his toes to kiss cute boys in these heels. yuchan was absolutely right.
hyunseok lets out a breath, winding long fingers through his hair to tip his head back, expose his throat. byeongkwan’s gut clenches in anticipation when he leans in, crowding him against the door. arousal starts to build in his tummy, twined with joint nerves and excitement.
hyunseok’s muscles are so firm under his touch, byeongkwan can’t help the breathy giggle that escapes his mouth as he slides small hands under his shirt and up warm, soft skin.
then hyunseok tenses out of nowhere, like he’s suddenly made of stone. it’s too much for him to be just trying to impress byeongkwan by flexing.
byeongkwan pauses, confused. hyunseok pulls back from his scent gland. his eyes are contracted into thin slits, lips are pulled back to expose his teeth.
“why do you smell like dog?” he asks. it’s low, cold. there’s a note to his tone — byeongkwan stills when he hears it.
some instinct deep in his gut tells him to freeze, to let the danger pass, to not agitate the large predator standing in front of him. “it’s probably…” he starts, barely audible. he clears his throat and tries again, relieved when his voice doesn’t shake. “it’s probably just my friend. i caught a ride with him.”
hyunseok lets go of him roughly, snarling when byeongkwan stumbles backward against the door. his ears are pinned back, teeth still bared with outsized aggression. his words come out sharp, acidic. “disgusting. smells like you let him rut all over you.”
byeongkwan blinks, surprise and embarrassment twisting in his stomach. and, like, yeah. maybe they do scent each other, but that’s — that’s normal. platonic friends do that kind of thing. he does it with donghun too, and even jun sometimes. there’s nothing wrong with showing affection physically.
hyunseok puffs his chest incrementally and steps closer, invading his space. his elongated canines glint in the low light making its way in from under the door. his voice has dropped low, almost has a tinge of care in it when he lifts a hand to stroke byeongkwan’s cheek with the back of a claw. he says, “have some self-respect, kim. you can do better than a fucking mutt.”
anger lights a fire under byeongkwan’s skin and his hands clench into fists. the dull fuzz filling his head, that prey instinct urging him to make himself small disappears entirely. it’s replaced with heat. “hyung’s more of an alpha than you’ll ever be,” he snaps, brushing hyunseok’s hand away from his face.
it is, in hindsight, perhaps not the smartest thing to say.
hyunseok takes his wrist in a painful grip and twists, yellow eyes flashing dangerously. byeongkwan’s stomach drops, filling with lead and a cold, ancient terror. he’s dragged forward, too close too close too close to those sharp teeth, and he frantically scrambles to get back, to try and get away. his arm aches and one of his high heels catches on the carpet, snapping and throwing him off balance.
tears spring to byeongkwan’s eyes when he falls hard on his ass, the jolt drawing a yelp from his mouth for good measure. he feels small on the bedroom floor. horribly small, while hyunseok impassively watches him check himself for injuries. a turned ankle. a sore shoulder. a bruising wrist. acid burns, hot and bright in his stomach. and he hasn’t had a sip of alcohol, but he could throw up right here.
“get out of my apartment,” hyunseok says, smirking when he steps forward and byeongkwan flinches back to cover his face. “sluts aren’t welcome.”
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
“it’ll all work out,” sehyoon says softly, taking a sip of his drink. the music’s not his style, and most of the guests are undergrads, too young for him to either know or make the effort to care about, but for now it’s enough just to stand in the corner and watch yuchan dance among the crowd, his tail wagging happily and ears flopping every time he spins. he’s all limbs and no coordination; there’s still something sweet about his movements.
junhee snorts from next to him, unimpressed. “please. don’t give me that ‘still waters run deep’ bullshit. donghun might fall for it, but i know you.”
sehyoon eyes him over his cup and junhee smiles in return, his ringed tail slowly coming up to wind around his forearm. he strokes the end of it with one finger as he continues, “all of you.”
sehyoon pauses, gaze casting out to their friend on the dancefloor once again. in another moment he asks, “and what about you?”
he doesn’t have to elaborate.
junhee intakes a breath, short and sharp. “that’s different,” he says. sehyoon hums, disbelieving. right now, they feel like two sides of the same coin. across the room, yuchan twists, tossing a beatific smile over his shoulder at both of them. he’s practically glowing.
“he’s so young. we don’t want to push him into anything he’s not ready for. it can be intimidating to join an established couple.” he says it so firmly, sehyoon almost believes him. almost.
it’s a blessing when donghun appears in front of them, effortlessly drawing the attention of everyone in the immediate area. it’s not intentional, that’s just the effect he has. “sehyoon-ah,” he says, dipping his silvery blond head, and the urgency in his tone makes the hairs on the back of sehyoon’s neck stand on end. “byeongkwan —”
“where is he?” sehyoon asks, already pushing his half-empty cup into junhee’s hands. donghun’s eyes flick in the direction of the front door, and he’s off.
byeongkwan stands out in the hallway, shoes off and cheeks wet. he’s sniffling, formerly styled hair out of place and pushed back off of his forehead. he’s been running his hands through it. something’s really wrong, then. sehyoon’s heart thumps painfully in his chest at the sight.
“why the long ears, peter rabbit?” he asks softly, reaching out to curl an arm around his narrow shoulders. it feels right, the way he slides so easily into an embrace.
byeongkwan sniffs and lets himself be held, for once not bothering to act tough. he presses his face into the fabric of sehyoon’s sweater, breathing hotly through the thick material. it takes him a second to find his voice. when he does, it’s muffled. strained. “can we go? i just wanna curl up in your bed.”
“of course, sweetheart,” sehyoon says, curving a hand round the back of his head. affection simmers low in his stomach when one of his long ears twitches. it doesn’t outstrip the deep worry already settled there, though. he’s got to ask. needs to find out. “what happened?”
byeongkwan shakes his head, hiccoughing on a breath. anxiety pings in the far corner of sehyoon’s mind, and he leans back slowly, taking stock of his best friend.
his makeup has run, the glitter adorning his eyelids now streaked down either cheek to highlight whatever fucked up thing he’s been through tonight. he’s bearing all of his weight on one foot, the other tucked back behind a shapely calf. in his hands, his new high heels —
“how’d your shoe get broken?” he asks, careful to keep his voice low. byeongkwan looks down at it and shifts, hiding the missing heel. the movement exposes an angry red mark encircling his wrist, and the world goes very still around sehyoon.
“did somebody touch you?” he asks, softer than even before.
byeongkwan takes a breath and his expression threatens to crumple. sehyoon cups his jaw, strokes a velvetsoft cheek with his thumb. “bunny, you can tell me if someone hurt you,” he coaxes. inside of his mind, thunder rumbles on the horizon. “i just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“hyunseok,” byeongkwan says through tears, and sehyoon nods.
he straightens and turns around, hands falling to his sides.
he can tell byeongkwan’s speaking behind him, hears his voice loud and questioning, but he can’t make out the words over the ringing in his ears.
he pushes the door open and steps in.
grey housecat, his mind supplies.
he scans the living room.
nothing.
he continues on his path, until he can see the whole expanse of the shitty, badly decorated kitchen. none of the appliances match, like some stupid fucker just ordered all of the most expensive items in a catalogue without a second thought.
there.
a grey tabby leans back against the wall watching the rest of the party. handsome, tall, and broad-shouldered, his expression is as smug as anything sehyoon’s ever seen in his life. he’s exactly byeongkwan’s type.
sehyoon stalks towards him, paying no mind to the increasingly frantic voice at his back.
the cat doesn’t even notice him until sehyoon’s inside of a meter away, then his ears are flattened against his skull and he’s hissing. sehyoon grips the front of his shirt, knuckles hard against the sharpness of his collarbone, and easily lifts him off his feet.
the hair on the back of his own neck is standing, his teeth bared in a way that, if someone had asked him to yesterday, he would have sworn he wasn’t capable of doing. when sehyoon speaks, the words come out touched by lightning. “you think you’re tough shit? you think ‘cause you’re an alpha, you can do whatever you want?”
his voice, the fury, it comes from deep in his chest, the same place as that weirdly protective feeling he gets when he’s watching byeongkwan or donghun or even sometimes yuchan interact with strangers. alpha instinct, junhee called it once. he gets it too.
the cat snarls, clawing at his forearm through the sweater, but sehyoon sees the fear in his yellow eyes, sees the corded muscle straining in his throat. fighting his instincts, fighting the urge to submit under threat of another, bigger predator. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” he says, voice shaking. “why don’t you back the f—fuck off? i never touched any fuckin’ rabbit —”
“i didn’t say you did,” sehyoon says, and pulls his fist back.
small hands catch at his elbow, and the strange, buzzing bubble surrounding sehyoon dissipates just like that.
he blinks, twisting to look over his shoulder, and realizes that they’re surrounded. party goers watch, open-mouthed. some are holding up their cell phones to record. it’s always a spectacle when two alphas start getting aggressive.
junhee stands just to byeongkwan’s left, arms crossed and expression too even to be anything other than schooled. sehyoon reads a heavy warning in his gaze, sees the minute shake of his head.
chan’s folded neatly under donghun’s arm, eyes round as saucers. he looks so young like this. terribly frightened. donghun soothes him with a hand tucked into his hair, his own lips and brows pulled down deeply.
“he’s not worth it, hyung,” byeongkwan says softly. he sounds miserable. “let’s just go home, please.”
sehyoon exhales. byeongkwan’s right. of course, he’s right. the adrenaline pumping his blood extra hot settles some. the roaring in his ears lessens a fraction. taking byeongkwan home sounds like the right thing to do, though it also sounds significantly less satisfying than ripping this asshole to shreds.
byeongkwan blinks up at him, plaintive, and sehyoon drops the cat.
he nods, gratified when byeongkwan nods back. he’s breathing heavily through his nose, taking in as much air as he can to clear his head from the electricity that still lights his muscles, still demands a fight. he can do it. he can let go of the bone-deep anger without drawing blood.
he almost makes it, too. he even turns to face byeongkwan entirely. then, from over his shoulder, hyunseok says:
“get your bitch out of here.”
sehyoon closes his eyes and inhales, turning back around.
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
“i cannot fucking believe you,” byeongkwan says, furrowing his brow with displeasure when sehyoon whines. he presses his damp cloth harder against the deep scratch in sehyoon’s cheek, probably out of spite. “and junhee! i thought he was gonna rip hyunseok’s tail off. i’ve never seen him that mad.”
“alpha instinct,” sehyoon mumbles from where he sits between his knees on the bathroom floor, and byeongkwan rolls his eyes. this time when he wipes an unnecessary amount of rubbing alcohol over the cut, sehyoon knows it’s out of annoyance. “couldn’t help it.”
“shut the fuck up,” he says, shifting his weight on the toilet seat lid to pull a pack of bandages off of the counter. “that’s bullshit. media propaganda designed to excuse and condone the actions of out of control hybrids and keep the omegas too scared and quiet to stand up for themselves.”
“we weren’t —” sehyoon pauses, processing his words on a delay. horror dawns in his mind, and he reaches out, gripping byeongkwan’s bare knee gently. it’s warm under his hand. “wait, did i scare you?”
byeongkwan doesn’t answer for long moments, doesn’t make eye contact. he’s considering how much he wants to share. sehyoon’s seen that look on his face a thousand times if he’s seen it once. anxiety tightens his chest.
“no,” he finally admits. sehyoon breathes out, relieved, and he goes on. “but you did piss me off. you know i hate driving your car. and you got blood on my shorts.”
“i’ll buy you another pair,” sehyoon immediately says and byeongkwan breaks into a smile, pushing him lightly. sehyoon returns the goofy grin, letting himself sway until he slumps against one of byeongkwan’s smooth legs. “ten more pairs. however many more you want.”
byeongkwan makes to flick his forehead and chuckles when he flinches. “you’re so annoying. that’s not the — i can wash them, idiot, you don’t need to buy me anything. i just can’t believe you went after him like that.” he frowns, then, a cute little line settling between his brows. “you didn’t have to, like, bleed for me.”
“nobody gets to make you feel small,” sehyoon says, a touch too sincere for the tone of their conversation. byeongkwan blinks, visibly surprised, and he tries to play it off casually, heart pounding in his ears and gaze casting across the bathroom. “it was nothing, anyway. everyone thinks scars are sexy, right? i’m gonna be at least thirty percent more mysterious once this heals.”
byeongkwan purses his lips, biting down on a smile. he nudges sehyoon, shoving a tiny bare foot under his sweater and pressing wriggling toes into his stomach purely to irritate him. “more like ten percent. maybe twelve.”
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
there’s something wrong when byeongkwan wakes up the next morning. he’s sweaty, tangled up with sehyoon’s cotton sheets around his hips and legs tight like a cocoon. “fuck,” he mumbles, sitting up. it’s far too bright out for this time of day. his head’s pounding, stomach’s upset. he stands and stumbles immediately, strangely unsteady on his feet.
“you that hungover?” sehyoon asks, when byeongkwan manages to make it out of the bedroom some minutes later. he’s already showered and dressed, is drinking coffee from a mishappen mug byeongkwan made in ceramics class last year. he sits up, scratching at the bandage on his cheek. there’s worry in his tone. “how much did you drink last night? you drove us home.”
byeongkwan shakes his head and groans, rubbing his arms. “nothing, hyung. it’s not a hangover.” fuck, now he’s got a chill. sehyoon frowns and pats the empty space next to him on the couch. byeongkwan ignores it, collapsing into a bad-tempered heap at his feet instead. the floor feels like a much better option for how badly his head’s spinning. gravity doesn’t feel like a friend right now. “you shouldn’t drink out of that, hyung. there’s no way it’s food safe. and stop messing with your face. you’ll get an infection.”
“you’ll get an infection,” sehyoon shoots back on instinct, but his tone is soft, touch is gentle as he scratches across byeongkwan’s scalp. byeongkwan hums and melts into it, slumping bonelessly against the cushions.
“aish, kwannie.” sehyoon says with a frown, sitting forward suddenly. he cups byeongkwan’s face in large hands and lifts so that they make intent eye contact. byeongkwan swallows, warm around the temples and cheeks, and sehyoon breathes in, his pupils dilating until the familiar warm brown is all but swallowed up.
“that’s weird,” he says, voice low and gravelly and sexy. byeongkwan has to suppress the shiver that threatens to tumble down his spine. “i thought your heat wasn’t due for another few weeks.”
fuck. fuck. that’s it.
byeongkwan swallows. his throat might be lined with sand for how dry it is. “wasn’t supposed to be,” he says, frowning deeply. he knows that; he checked his tracking app like two days ago to make sure he’d be good for the party. a cramp washes over him, then, and he holds back a whimper. feels like all his organs are getting squeezed at once, like there’s a knife twisting deep in his guts.
this is just the pre-heat, he knows. tonight, or maybe tomorrow if he’s lucky, he’ll be out of his mind with it. totally on his ass for the next five days at least.
“fuck,” he groans, dropping his head against the cushion again as soon as sehyoon lets him. the couch shifts when sehyoon gets up, but byeongkwan doesn’t bother to see where he’s headed. a stress headache starts to pulse faintly around the crown of his head. he has assignments due. “i had so much shit to turn in this week. i have to email all my professors.”
he hears rustling in the cupboards, footsteps across the modest square footage of sehyoon’s work study funded flat. it doesn’t matter. he’ll be back soon. hopefully with some of those chocolate mushrooms they both like.
byeongkwan takes the opportunity to stew in his horrible luck for the intervening minutes. his weekend has gone from promising to potentially life-ruining in a matter of twenty four hours.
“so, bad news,” sehyoon says some moments later. “stop whining, you don’t even know what i was going to say.”
“am not. and i don’t need to hear any more. you already said it’s bad,” byeongkwan says, whining louder. bad’s the last thing he needs right now. he’s about to kiss his perfect gpa goodbye.
sehyoon rolls his eyes, annoyed but fond, and ruffles the soft hair just behind byeongkwan’s ear. “i haven’t restocked your stash yet, but i figured i’ll run you a bath and you can soak while i pop out to the store. that sound okay?”
“you just wanna turn me into rabbit soup,” byeongkwan accuses, rolling his head back on the cushion and pointing rather absurdly. sehyoon doesn’t even dignify him with a response, apparently instead opting to just stare. byeongkwan sighs, feeling an unwelcome warmth kindle deep in his stomach and drops his hand with a thud against the bamboo floor. it’s cool, and he shakes with the effort of not throwing himself upon it fully. “yeah, bath is probably best right now. i think my brain’s trying to cook itself.”
sehyoon hauls him up with an ease that makes the whole world tilt, and byeongkwan lets himself be ushered to the bathroom in a reversal of last night’s roles. it’s small, like everything else is in sehyoon’s apartment, but it’s also well-kept and clean, and byeongkwan doesn’t object when he’s bodily picked up and settled on the counter.
it’s not the first time byeongkwan’s taken a bath over here and he doubts it’ll be the last; his dorm on campus has a suite-style bathroom without a tub. he tucks one foot under the opposite thigh and watches sehyoon parse through a little basket filled with bath bombs and face masks and various other accoutrements, left arm loosely curled around his middle to stave off the worst of the cramps.
“you’ve got a whole spa set up, hyung,” he says, interestedly sniffing when sehyoon holds out a couple of options. the bubble bath is too sweet, but the tang of the epsom salt sends a happy shiver down his spine and he nods, poking at the heavy bag. when he looks up, sehyoon’s avoiding eye contact. it’s like he’s embarrassed or something.
byeongkwan smells blood in the water.
he smiles, lifting one shoulder and tilting his head. “you like to treat yourself after a long week? there’s nothing wrong with that, sehni-hyung. i think it’s cute.” he singsongs the last part a little, hoping to catch a flush crawl over sehyoon’s skin.
instead sehyoon clears his throat over the sound of the slowly filling tub and says, “it’s not for me.”
“oh,” byeongkwan says, immediately jealous. he didn’t think that sehyoon’s been seeing anyone recently, but maybe he missed something. he glances around when sehyoon’s back is turned, halfheartedly looking for evidence of a secret sweetheart. he’s only known sehyoon to date betas in the past; it makes sense he never noticed a strong scent around the apartment.
nothing seems out of place from the last few times he’s been over: there’s his toothbrush in the holder next to sehyoon’s, the matching KBK and KSY monogrammed hand towels jun and donghun gave them as a joke gift last christmas sit side by side on the towel rack, and hanging over the toilet is the pastel landscape of sehyoon’s childhood backyard byeongkwan sketched last summer when they went down to jeolla to visit his family.
his eyes catch on a bundle of small branches hanging from the showerhead. huh.
“i thought you didn’t care for eucalyptus,” he says softly. it’s unsure, almost intoned like a question.
sehyoon sits back on the edge of the tub, looking up at it as well. “not particularly,” he answers, shrugging. then he turns to face byeongkwan. he’s completely serious when he says, “you do, though.”
byeongkwan blinks. then he blinks again. his mouth falls open.
everything clicks at once. sehyoon keeping his favorite heat snacks and comfort items in convenient spots around the apartment. sehyoon appearing outside of his most difficult class with coffee and carrot cake in hand every week without fail. sehyoon rushing to defend him last night. byeongkwan nearly tumbles headfirst off the counter with the shock.
how didn’t he see it before? how didn’t he know?
sehyoon takes care of him like they’re mates.
“you did this,” he says. it comes out breathy, barely audible.
sehyoon twists the faucet until the water stops and turns back around, brows furrowed and ears twitching cutely. “uh, yeah?” he says, rubbing absently at the bandage on his cheek. “i told you i was gonna run you a bath.”
“no, you idiot,” byeongkwan says. he’s almost vibrating from the adrenaline spiking in his system. his heartbeat’s fluttering in his ears. so many things make sense now. his brain is whirring! “you made my heat come early.”
sehyoon blanches. “wh — what do you mean? what did i do?”
byeongkwan slides off the counter and into his lap with one (arguably) graceful movement. he cups sehyoon’s beautiful, breathtakingly dumb face in his hands and stares him down, noses scarcely a breath’s width apart. warmth coils low in his stomach at their proximity. for the first time, byeongkwan reads it for what it is: desire. “you went all big scary alpha over my honor last night and now my body’s reacting. it thinks you’re my mate and it wants you. with me, on me, inside of me. preferably all three at once.”
sehyoon’s eyes widen.
his gaze shifts over byeongkwan’s features.
he doesn’t speak.
several horrible, awkward seconds tick by.
byeongkwan’s smile falters. the gears rapidly spinning in his head screech to a halt. maybe he misunderstood and read too much into everything. maybe he’s making a huge fucking fool of himself. maybe he’s ruining their friendship right now. he swallows, sudden terror clutching at the base of his throat. “i — is that something you want, too?”
“i think i need to go to the store,” sehyoon finally says, and byeongkwan lets out a breath.
it feels like a thousand pounds of liquid concrete are being poured into the space in his lungs where the air usually goes. feels like he’s not ever gonna be able to breathe in again. feels like he’s being crushed from the inside out.
“oh,” he says, barely making a sound. he stands abruptly from sehyoon’s lap, waving his hands unsurely for a moment before folding them together in front of his hips. fuck. fuck. there’s tears building in the back of his throat. they hurt. “right. okay.”
sehyoon stands, then, too. he’s in byeongkwan’s space, his familiar scent somehow comforting even though byeongkwan’s in the middle of wondering if this is what butterflies feel like when their wings are ripped off.
“hey,” he says, low and soft. his breath puffs over byeongkwan’s face, across the sensitive skin of his lips. byeongkwan tries to make a questioning sound, only succeeds in almost choking on his own saliva. sehyoon speaks again, catching his elbow and tilting his head so that they’re eye to eye and byeongkwan can’t look away from their depths. his stomach is hollow, feels like it’s dropped out of his body. he blinks and all he sees is sehyoon. “while i’m out, i need you to think really hard about what you want. you. not your body. we’re gonna talk about it when i get back.”
byeongkwan blinks again, surprised enough that his spiral stops abruptly. sehyoon’s watching him, his eyes careful and intent and so lovely they make his heart ache. “okay,” he says.
his phone pings fifteen or twenty minutes later, well after he’s alone in the apartment and settled under the steaming water. he has to stretch to grab it from the back of the toilet, frowning unhappily at the brief chill on his skin.
it’s from sehyoon.
i’ll be home soon! enjoy your bath
byeongkwan stares down at the words for long moments, his tummy quivering oddly. home. like it’s their home, not just sehyoon’s. the last bit of that painful lump of concrete lingering in his chest crumbles into dust at the thought.
oh. oh, fuck.
“i’m in love with him,” byeongkwan whispers to the empty bathroom. the heat slowly creeping under his skin flares as if in cheerful agreement. he blows out a breath, sliding down farther into the water until he’s completely submerged. when he speaks again, the words are bubbles floating in front of his face. “holy shit.”
he screws up his face, thinking hard. for how long? weeks? months?
longer?
what makes up that fine line between best friend and beyond? sehyoon’s the one byeongkwan seeks out after a bad date, a stressful test, another miserable conversation with his family. he’s the one who makes the overwhelming noise of the outside world fade away. he’s been byeongkwan’s safe haven for years at this point.
byeongkwan’s heart skips a beat, lungs burning with the effort of staying under the water. he shakes his head, the ends of his hair whipping around his face, and presses on.
when did sehyoon become the most important presence in his life? it’s impossible to pinpoint, feels like he always has been. feels like the time before they met was early morning, pre-dawn. like his life hadn’t quite started yet. like he was just waiting in the dark for all those years.
byeongkwan sits up, gasping for air. there’s water in his ears, his head going fuzzy with the sudden influx of oxygen to his brain. he presses hot palms to his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees, and breathes harshly.
the sun’s rising now, and he doesn’t know what comes next. anxiety digs sharp claws into the horizon of his mind. fear. is everything going to change between them? does byeongkwan want it to?
he’s always been so grateful for what they’ve got, he never let himself hope for more. now he considers what it might be like, if sehyoon feels the same way. if he could possibly feel the same way.
his heart skips a beat.
“hey there,” sehyoon says, knocking on the door lightly.
byeongkwan startles, smothering his yelp with a quick hand over the mouth. the water sloshes against the sides of the tub, mercifully not high enough to spash over the edge.
“um — yeah?” he asks, once his heart no longer feels like it’s about to escape the confines of his ribcage. his voice audibly shakes.
“i’m home,” sehyoon says. it’s so dumb, so unnecessary, and so him that byeongkwan buries his face in his hands, fighting the urge to squeal and kick his feet out. fuck. he’s so in love.
“i got a warm towel for you,” he continues through the door, and this time byeongkwan does kick his feet out, squishing his burning cheeks between his fists. fuck. fuck! how could anyone expect him not to fall completely head over heels for sehyoon? “if you wanna hang out in there for a little while longer, i can stick it back in the dryer.”
“no, wait,” byeongkwan says, sounding more urgent than he means to. he can see the shadow under the door shift, become more solid. he guesses that sehyoon had meant to step away, give him some respectful space. it’s sweet, but distance is actually the last thing byeongkwan needs. “i’m ready! come get me now.”
is it strictly necessary to let sehyoon scoop him out of the tub in some kind of towel burrito/cocoon and princess carry him into the bedroom? maybe not. but it’s what sehyoon seems to want to do, and who is byeongkwan to deny him small pleasures?
if his inner omega brain preens at the careful treatment, he never has to admit it to anyone.
after he’s set down, byeongkwan tugs the warm towel higher on his shoulders and glances up. sehyoon stands back a couple of steps, rubbing the back of his neck. his face is flushed, as if he’s the one with a low grade fever. “i, um,” he starts, awkwardly gesturing to a mismatched pile of sheets and throw blankets up near the head of the bed, “i just got those out of the dryer too if you wanted to, like, nest with them or something.”
“oh my god,” byeongkwan says under his breath. he’s fucking perfect. sehyoon’s fucking perfect. he rolls to his hands and knees, wriggling into the oversized tee shirt and athletic shorts sehyoon’s got laid out, and crawls up the bed to build himself a nest. “yes, please, there is nothing in this world that i want more.”
sehyoon lets out a chuckle from behind him, settling on the edge of the mattress carefully. byeongkwan hums as he works, still far too warm around the temples and wrists to be comfortable, but much happier with his person and his nest so close.
and, that. that gives byeongkwan pause. he glances over his shoulder, uncharacteristically timid.
“you said we needed to talk, hyung,” he offers, fingers subconsciously clenching the fluffy blanket he’s chosen to line his side of the nest. his side, versus what could potentially become sehyoon’s side. his heart pounds a staccato rhythm in his chest at the thought.
sehyoon’s already watching him, dark eyes soft and fond. one of his hands rests on the quilt between them, reaching out halfway. byeongkwan blinks down at it and twists, landing ungracefully on his ass in the middle of the nest with crossed legs.
“yes,” sehyoon says, taking gentle hold of byeongkwan’s ankle when he shoves his foot close enough. byeongkwan lets himself smile through the nerves. small winged creatures flutter in the space behind his eyes, leaving him lightheaded.
sehyoon quirks a half smile, just one side of his mouth, and tilts his head as he goes on. he hesitates for a moment, the expression comfortingly familiar. “we should talk. i am going to go first, and i need you to listen all the way through. can you do that for me?”
he waits for byeongkwan to answer before saying or doing anything else, and that’s just another one of the thousand reasons why sehyoon has become synonymous with home in byeongkwan’s head and heart.
“yes, hyung,” byeongkwan says, hoping to all of the gods that the little hitch in his voice doesn’t let on the strength of emotion in his throat. it’s bright red, beating and vital in the vulnerable dip between his collarbones. it is all of the most tender and fragile parts of himself, jealously protected from every eye on this earth but for two. (or, well, he hopes. gods, does he hope.)
“okay,” sehyoon says, drawing a deep breath. he’s gone still, mouth bitten with his own nerves and cheeks flushed the loveliest pink, a sunripened peach left on the branch one afternoon too long. byeongkwan's got no doubt he’d taste just as sweet. “okay.”
he scooches forward on the bed, carefully pulling byeongkwan’s foot into the secure space of his lap, and laces their fingers together across the checkered sheets. byeongkwan swallows, trepidation creeping up his throat - some strange fear that sehyoon is about to reject him kindly, assure him that it’s nothing he’s done, that of course nothing needs to change between them, and that they’ll always have a special bond.
byeongkwan stares down at their connected hands and doesn’t know if he could survive that.
then sehyoon tips his head upwards, free hand curved gently over the roundest part of his cheek, and byeongkwan meets his gaze. the depth in his eyes knocks the breath from byeongkwan’s lungs. he has the uncanny sense of looking into something unknowable, something far too precious for any mortal to behold. and sehyoon’s never been difficult for byeongkwan to read, but in this moment he wonders - what has he missed for all of these years?
“this cannot be a ‘just this heat’ thing,” sehyoon starts, low and steady. his voice shakes with nerves he speaks, but there's a quiet confidence there. a sureness that rings sincere. “you are it for me.”
byeongkwan breathes in, heartbeat quick and fluttering in his throat, and sehyoon holds eye contact, shakes his head minutely. he’s not done. byeongkwan squeezes his hand, and he continues.
“i have been in love with you for the last three years. the first day we met in doctor lim’s chem class, you stole the pen right off my desk and then lied to my face when i asked about it, and i was a goner.”
byeongkwan can’t stop himself from interrupting then, righteously indignant. “pretty sure it was my pen in the first place and you stole it from me. i was just reappropriating ill-begotten goods.”
sehyoon pauses to stare at him for a long moment, something in his expression shifting.
then he says, so sincerely that a fine line grows in the center of byeongkwan’s heart:
“i would marry you tomorrow.”
he breathes, brow furrowing as if he’s in pain, and continues in a rush. “i would marry you and then i would spend the rest of our lives learning how to garden and planting you carrots so that you always have them fresh and making you the happiest bunny alive.”
byeongkwan rubs his eyes harshly with his free hand, willing back the great wave of tears suddenly threatening to fall. “i don’t even like carrots that much,” he says. his voice is thick, sticky with more emotion than he’s ever experienced at one time.
“yes, you do,” sehyoon says, and the clear fondness in his tone draws the first tear out past the barrier of byeongkwan’s tightly clenched fist.
“yes, i do,” he admits, chest burning with the effort of holding in a sob. he throws himself forward, crashing into sehyoon’s form harder than he maybe should, fully trusting that sehyoon will catch him, will keep him safe.
sehyoon does. of course, he does.
“i love them so much,” byeongkwan says through a sob, twisting his hands into the soft fabric of sehyoon’s favorite tee shirt. he’s getting it terribly wet with the force of his tears, is gonna stain it something awful if he’s not careful. somehow, he knows that sehyoon won’t hold it against him even if he does.
“i know you do,” sehyoon says softly, weaving a hand through his damp hair to stroke at the velvet softness of his ears. “sometimes i think you only like me ‘cause my ears and tail are orange.”
byeongkwan gasps and pulls back to frown up at him. “that’s so not true! you also dyed your hair green that one time and it reminded me of when carrots are about to be harvested. i liked that a lot too.”
the smile spreads over sehyoon’s face slowly, like sunshine appearing from behind a spat of clouds. it transforms him from simply handsome to something ethereal, something otherworldly. it steals the air from byeongkwan’s lungs, leaves him breathless for an entirely different reason.
“guess i gotta dye my hair green again,” sehyoon says, and byeongkwan slides back down into the inviting circle of his arms.
warm satisfaction unfurls in his tummy, a flower finally coming to bloom. “guess you gotta,” he mumbles. it’s barely audible.
sehyoon strokes byeongkwan’s hair for moments, his fingers spreading and curling against the most sensitive parts of his scalp. shivers tumble down his spine, wrecking hope of anything coherent developing in his mind. instead of thoughts, there is only joy.
when he speaks again, byeongkwan physically feels the rumble where his cheek is pressed to sehyoon’s chest.
“i fell in love with you that day, and i have loved you every day since. i have loved watching you live and learn and grow into the person you are today. i also know you, though. i know that you want to be casual and have fun and i love that too. i love seeing you be yourself and enjoy your life. i just — i can’t do that with us. when this happens, i need it to be forever.”
he takes another breath, speaking significantly more softly when he continues. he’s hesitating again. byeongkwan blinks, heart pounding, and presses closer into his hold. “i know that that’s big and scary and i know that you haven’t had us in your head for years, and that’s okay. i love our friendship. it’s the most precious part of my life and i wouldn’t lose it for anything.”
then sehyoon shifts them, pulls back and sits up so that they’re making eye contact again. his expression is nothing short of devastating. careful and quiet and brimming with so much love, it fills byeongkwan’s head and heart with thousands of pale pink flowers.
“i need you to know that you don’t have to say yes right now. i will not hold it against you, even for a second. if you don’t want or need this, or even if you think maybe you do but you’re not a hundred percent sure, i’ll call someone for you. anyone you want. you spent your heat with channie last time, right? you said he took care of you really well?”
byeongkwan shakes his head, bringing up his own hands to cover sehyoon’s where they rest on his cheek and neck. he has to force himself to speak past the tight knot coiled in his throat. “yes, chan took great care of me,” he says, when sehyoon very suddenly looks very alarmed. he relaxes a fraction, and byeongkwan continues. “but i don’t want him. i don’t want anyone else.”
as soon as the words leave his mouth, he realizes that they’re the truest he’s ever spoken.
he swallows and continues, fighting against the urge to let emotion take over, to dissolve under the weight of it and break down into tears and let himself split at the seams. how on earth has sehyoon lived with such a monumental presence for so long? byeongkwan’s had it in his head for an hour max, and he’s a fucking mess.
“i haven’t known consciously for as long as you, but it’s the same for me,” he says, blinking rapidly to try and hold back the next barrage of tears working to make themselves known. “i haven’t been able to commit to anyone or even really try with anyone because as soon as i look at them, i’m comparing them to you.
“and you know what?” he scoots forward, crawling into sehyoon’s lap entirely, and bumps their foreheads together. his next words are whispered, a secret just for the two of them. “nobody else even comes close.”
he lets out a little laugh, a curl of warmth building at the base of his spine, and cradles sehyoon’s precious face in his hands. his eyes are wide, hanging onto byeongkwan’s every word. “you’re the only person i want to come home to, hyung. you’re the only person i want to see after a bad day. the only person i want to hold and be held by. and finally my head’s catching up with my heart, and it seems like my body’s right on track as well. i would marry you tomorrow if you asked me.”
he laughs again, then, winding an arm around his own midsection when the warmth in his core turns uncomfortable and a cramp begins to form. “or, okay, maybe we can get married next week. let’s get past this heat first.”
sehyoon rubs both sides of his hips comfortingly and tilts his head, frowning down at byeongkwan’s stomach. then, without looking up, he says, “don’t say that if you don’t mean it. you don’t know how much i mean it.”
a sly smile spreads across byeongkwan’s face. he knows that tone well. sehyoon’s embarrassed. he can’t help but lean into it. “what, you got a ring for me? gonna go dig something sparkly out of your sock drawer and slide it right on my pretty little finger?”
sehyoon breaks into a smile, pleasingly red in the cheeks. “you’re a menace,” he says, shifting byeongkwan forward in his lap so that they’re in each other’s space. his gaze drops down momentarily, and byeongkwan’s breath catches in his chest. “absolutely terrible.”
“i could be your menace,” byeongkwan murmurs. sehyoon’s watching his mouth, gaze hungrily tracing the curve of his lips. he leans in, nudging the tips of their noses together, and byeongkwan smiles. they’re sharing air now — feels more intimate than anything byeongkwan’s ever experienced with another person.
“you already are,” sehyoon whispers against his mouth. “always have been.” then he tips his head back and gently catches the fat of byeongkwan’s top lip between his own. the soft pressure draws a sharp breath out of byeongkwan’s chest when he realizes. it’s a kiss — it’s their first kiss.
fireworks go off in byeongkwan’s stomach and he gasps, tightening his grip around sehyoon’s shoulders and sliding down to settle in his lap. sehyoon’s touch is gentle, his movements careful and insistent. he leads the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup the back of byeongkwan’s neck while he licks along the line of his mouth.
byeongkwan lets out a sigh, opening for sehyoon as easily as if that’s what he’s always been meant to do. maybe that’s the truth, he thinks when a spark of electricity zings down his spine and he shudders. their tongues meet, sehyoon’s gently brushing over his, and byeongkwan’s stomach goes liquid.
heat builds under his skin, concentrated at his core and radiating out in tendrils to light him from within. when he presses forward, sehyoon falls back onto the bed, landing amongst the pillows and blankets byeongkwan so lovingly arranged.
he could be an angel like this: cheeks flushed, lips swollen, dark hair splayed out over the pillow around his head like a halo. he blinks up at byeongkwan and smiles, right hand curling over the small of his waist. byeongkwan breathes in shakily and returns the smile. he’s never felt so off-balance before. it’s kind of — it’s kind of scary.
“come here, you,” sehyoon murmurs, pulling him close once again, and byeongkwan lets himself fall.
◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇
later, much later, sehyoon watches byeongkwan shift in his sleep. his right ear twitches when it gets pinned awkwardly between his head and the pillow and he sighs, leaning across byeongkwan’s narrow shoulders to free it.
it’s so soft, fine and lovely in his hand. sehyoon has to swallow back the emotion rising in his throat before setting it down carefully in place over byeongkwan’s head. his chest aches, filled to bursting. it’s the sweetest sort of pain.
byeongkwan shifts again, full lips pulling downwards. his forehead shines and furrows, a thin layer of sweat forming on his fair skin. like this, it’s as if he’s been kissed by the moonbeams streaming in through the window. he’ll be awake soon enough, then his cramps will follow after and his scent will turn ripe enough to set sehyoon’s mouth watering once again.
for the moment, sehyoon wills away the pain with a kiss to his cheek. he holds it until the line between his eyebrows fades and his expression smoothes out. byeongkwan lets out a long breath from his nose and tucks his face into the crook of sehyoon’s neck, sighing deeply.
it feels right. in practice, it’s not that different from their usual brand of over-cuddliness — just. it’s right. like they were always supposed to be this way. like that first morning when winter turns to spring and the world comes to light with the promise of blooming flowers and new beginnings.
like this is the next season of their lives.
sehyoon thinks of the ring box he’s got tucked under his favorite pair of socks for long minutes and wonders if it’s too soon. it might be. for all of their big eyes and bigger emotions, they’re both still pretty young. byeongkwan doesn’t even graduate until next winter.
whatever. sehyoon’s waited this long. a little longer won’t kill him.
byeongkwan rolls back enough that sehyoon can see his face. his lashes flutter, eyes flicking back and forth under the lids. in another few moments, his mouth stretches into a smile, and sehyoon’s heart cracks neatly down the middle.
“good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispers.
byeongkwan slides one eye open, twisting his head to squint at the clock on the side table. sehyoon follows his gaze. nine twenty four pm, the dull red numbers blink. neither of them address it.
byeongkwan rolls back over, expression invitingly open and eyes luminous. sehyoon’s breath catches in his chest. he wonders what byeongkwan could possibly be about to say.
“do you have my name tattooed on your ass?”