Archive of Our Own

Okay, so. Here's the thing.

If he’s asked, “Why are you still single in this day and age? In this economy?” one more fucking time, he swears to everything good in the world, he’s going to commit heinous crimes against humanity, and he’s very serious about that. 

Being single shouldn’t be such a big deal, but apparently it’s a big fucking deal for everyone else around him.

Being asked on an almost daily basis on why he’s not in a relationship yet, “especially for someone like him” (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean) is getting to be quite annoying. At first, it was off-putting at best, but now? Now, it’s really starting to grind at his gears. 

Which is what gets him completely riled up on a Friday night, with Cheongsan trying to study while he’s spilling his frustrations all over the place. He’s been wanting to get this off his chest for a while now, and Cheongsan happens to be the one bearing the brunt of his pent-up irritation. 

As he usually does.

He’s pacing Cheongsan’s bedroom floor, arms flailing all over the place as he tries to make a case for himself. “Like, I really don’t get it. Relationships aren’t the be-all and end-all? We’re young, we’ve still got other things to experience, but these people are out here acting like being single is a horrible fucking curse or something,” Suhyeok rants. “It’s so stupid, and such a shitty mentality, too.” He exhales, loudly. “Like, I’m sorry I’m not seeing anyone, but why are my life choices any of your business?” 

“My god, if it really bothers you that much, then you could pretend you’re in a relationship or something,” Cheongsan finally snaps, looking up at him from his laptop, wearing his signature annoyed expression (which Suhyeok has come to adore a little too much, but no one’s about to find that out anytime soon). “Make up a name of some person you’ve met online, and then make up a backstory on how you two met, then you’re pretty much good to go. See? Problem: solved. No longer single, and no longer being asked questions about why you choose to stay single. Lie to the people, and make it convincing.” 

Suhyeok comes to a halt at that. He turns towards Cheongsan, who has returned to doing his work while grumbling something which sounds akin to ‘annoying people who can’t shut the fuck up for once’ and kind of just ogles at him, like he’s really seeing him for the first time, an idea slowly forming in his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales in one breath, climbing onto the bed. He tips Cheongsan’s laptop lid to a close, careful to not hurt the other’s fingers. 

Exhaling a heavy, resigned sigh, Cheongsan looks up at him as the screen touches his knuckles. “What do you want,” he deadpans. “Someone’s trying to study here, you inconsiderate turd.” He pushes his hand away and opens his laptop up again. “I really shouldn’t have invited you over. You’re failing to do the one thing we’re supposed to be doing.” 

Completely ignoring that, Suhyeok says, “Cheongsan, oh my god. Your brain. It’s so big, so wrinkly and so, so fucking sexy. Do you know how much I love you right now? Like, I could kiss you right now. That’s how much I love you.” 

Cheongsan looks up at him again, and maybe Suhyeok’s mind and shitty vision is playing tricks on him but he’s pretty sure the other’s cheeks are coloured slightly redder than they were from just moments ago. It’s kind of cute, and Suhyeok finds himself leaning in a little, but then he’s scrunching his nose in what looks to be disgust and it’s not so cute anymore. Suhyeok leans back, coming to as his lips press into a thin line. The fuck was he thinking just then, leaning in like that? 

“What?” Cheongsan questions, dumbfounded (and if Suhyeok’s monkey brain is processing this right, he also sounds a tad flustered). “Are you okay?” he adds, sounding so genuinely concerned, Suhyeok could melt on the spot if he so pleased. 

(It’s an insulting type of concern, might he add, but it doesn’t matter; he could still melt. That’s not the point, though.) 

“That’s exactly what I need to do,” Suhyeok says, ignoring him. “Fake date someone.”

Frowning, Cheongsan shakes his head slowly, facial expression morphing into one of slight mortification; the fact that Suhyeok deviated into that line of thought seems to be an insult to his entire existence. “Wait, no. What the hell? I don’t mean to fake date someone; that sounds incredibly unsexy and also extremely stupid. I meant you should make up a person on the spot, and then after a while, you can pretend like you’ve broken it off with them because long distance is hard or whatever. No one ever has to meet them, either, so it makes it that much easier.”

“No,” Suhyeok says, adamantly shaking his head. “Oh no, no, Cheongsan, that’s not going to work. I need someone who’s here, physically, who can act like they’re dating me. It will get people off my back, and it won’t raise suspicions. Like, there’s only so much I can do with a made-up person before it ends up sounding fake, you know? And then I’m going to be classed as a weirdo for making someone up if I’m ever found out. There’s a lot at risk here.”

Cheongsan exhales loudly. “Suhyeok,” he says, slowly, like he’s talking to a stubborn little kid. “You’re not listening to me.”

“No! I am listening to you, and I hear you loud and clear; I’m just altering your god-tier plan to suit my needs. It’s genius.” He reaches over and takes his hands into his, staring at him imploringly. “And I’m going to need you to make this altered god-tier plan to work, my dearest, loveliest, bestest friend who means everything in the world to me and would never let me down by saying no to me. Right? Right?” 

Cheongsan’s eyes flitter towards their hands, then back up to meet Suhyeok’s eyes, a flicker of primal fear in his eyes, mixed in with something else Suhyeok can’t quite place. “Whatever you’re planning, please—”

“Please be my fake as fuck boyfriend, Cheongsan-ah. I need you,” he says, words spilling with sincerity, squeezing around Cheongsan’s hands.

The pause between them which ensues would be almost comedic if Suhyeok isn’t so dead-set serious about this. 

“You’re kidding,” Cheongsan finally says. “You’ve got to be kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding. You can’t be serious.” 

“Why would I kid about something like that? I’ve never been more serious in my entire life,” Suhyeok quickly says. “Look, you’re clearly lonely as all hell—”

Offended, Cheongsan butts in, “I am perfectly fine being s—” 

“And,” Suhyeok says, loudly, over Cheongsan’s weak protests, “clearly me asking anyone else for this favour would be way too awkward. I’m only asking you this because I’m the most comfortable with you. You’re the only one I can do this with, and I mean it when I say that.” 

“Clearly too comfortable,” Cheongsan grumbles, pulling his hands away from Suhyeok’s grip. “I’m not doing this. No fucking way. You’re weird for thinking I would say yes.”

“Not even if I shower you with love and attention?” 

“That’s the last thing I want from you, trust me. You’re already suffocating and clingy enough as it is.”

“Come on,” Suhyeok whines, taking Cheongsan’s laptop and pushing it to the side so he can scoot closer to the other boy, their knees touching. “We’ll fake date for maybe a few months, and then break up because we realise by then that maybe we won’t work out in the long run. Or… I don’t know, some shit like that. Whatever excuses will work, and the only thing that will change about our dynamics is that we’ll be a little more romantic with each other... If we want this to be convincing.” 

“Don’t say we, because your shoddy plan isn’t including me,” Cheongsan answers with an air of finality, backing away from Suhyeok, like Suhyeok’s a little too close to him for his comfort. “I’ve other things to do, and that does not include entertaining you.”

“Cheongsan—”

“Suhyeok, for the last time, I’m not fake dating you just because you want people to get off your back. You don’t get to…” He trails off, eyes sliding closed as he exhales loudly, running his fingers through his hair. Suhyeok raises a brow at that. “Just… Ask someone else or something, because I’m not green lighting that horrible idea. Now,” he says, firmly, leaving no room for protests, eyes flittering away from Suhyeok and over to his laptop. “We’re going to continue on studying and forget we ever had this conversation, okay? And don’t you even try to bring it up again, or we’re going to be friends no more.” 

He doesn’t mean that, Suhyeok knows that much, but when he opens his mouth to contest that, Cheongsan silences him with a stern glare. 

Suhyeok ends up dropping the topic, at least for the time-being. Because he has plans, and his plans aren’t about to be thwarted before they’re set in motion. 

As everyone and their mums should know, Suhyeok’s not one to relent. 

He fights for what he wants; fights to get his way. He’s always been like this, and he’s not about to change that any time soon. 

He knows for a fact Cheongsan will give in, eventually; he just needs a bit more time to convince him of his completely fool-proof plan. He will be convinced. 

(Or maybe that’s his desperation speaking, but he’d really rather not find anyone else to do this with.) 

It takes two whole weeks of making a case for himself before Cheongsan cracks, either under pressure, or under his constant begging and pulling out the good old puppy dog eyes as a form of manipulation in order to get his way. (Suhyeok kind of hopes it’s the latter reasoning; knowing he’s one of Cheongsan’s weakness hits in a completely different way. It makes him feel a little too giddy for it to be considered normal.) 

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying and insufferable and I’m going to murder you after this,” Cheongsan grumbles, rolling his eyes as Suhyeok clings onto his arm, wide eyes and pouty lips. He’s usually not like this when he pleads for someone to do something for him, but then there’s Cheongsan; there’s a reason why he’s so comfortable around him, and why he’s not asking anyone else but him for this favour. It’s because he can do shit like this and not feel embarrassed for himself. “Fine. We’ll fake date or whatever, because you won’t leave me the fuck alone.” Suhyeok’s ready to cheer, but then Cheongsan tacks on, “But on conditions.” Reaching into his bag, he pulls out his notebook and tears a blank page out of it. 

“Conditions?” Suhyeok questions, incredulous, as he lets go of Cheongsan’s arm. “Are you kidding me? Dating someone doesn’t require conditions.” He stares at the blank piece of paper like it’s personally wronged him for its simple existence. 

“We’re going to be fake dating,” Cheongsan corrects. “And fake dating does require conditions, because there are some lines that should not be crossed; we don’t want trouble to happen.”

“What type of troubles are we talking about?” Suhyeok questions, quirking a brow.

“I’m thinking ahead,” Cheongsan answers evasively, which confuses Suhyeok even more; that doesn’t really answer his question. He doesn’t ask anymore questions, though; he doesn’t want Cheongsan changing his mind and backtracking on his agreement… With conditions, or whatever.

Once Cheongsan’s done scribbling on the piece of paper, he slides it over to Suhyeok, drumming his fingers on the table as Suhyeok takes his sweet time to read it, slowly absorbing what’s written on there. 

His handwriting is hard to read, and he informs Cheongsan of such. He shouldn’t have, because what he gets in return is a smack on the arm and being slapped with a lighthearted “Focus, you idiot.” 

Conditions when we “date” 

1. No pet names, other than the usual nicknames we call each other. They make me cringe to the netherworld.
2. Absolutely NO kissing will be allowed. Not even cheek kisses.
3. Hugs are fine.
4. Hand holding is fine.
5. Please do not be overly affectionate with me or I’ll kick you.
6. You HAVE to attend the movie nights every Saturday with me, held in Gyeongsu’s room. Onjo and Namra will also be there. This is a must now that we’re “dating”. Stop thinking you’re cooler than us, my god. 
7. There will be no Netflixing and chilling. Pure intentions only, thank you.

“That’s… A long list,” Suhyeok says, frowning, eyes lingering on the second condition for an unnecessarily long amount of time. He purses his lips. He’s not so sure he likes that condition too much. “And no kissing?” he asks, looking up at Cheongsan. “How are we supposed to convince people we’re dating if we don’t make out with each other in public, like every other couple out there?” 

“There are other ways to show everyone we’re dating. You can take it or leave it. Beggars can’t be choosers, but if you don’t like this, we don’t have to discuss this any further. I’m perfectly fine with that.” 

Suhyeok lets out a dramatic exhale, conceding almost immediately because he can’t have Cheongsan backing out from this after begging him for two weeks straight to do this with him; to do this for him, just because he didn’t agree to this list of stupid conditions. “Okay, that’s… Fine, whatever, but you don’t get to be the only one with conditions. We need to go on date nights every fortnight, on a Sunday. Add that on.”

“But why would we do that? This is just for show—”

“My family keeps bugging me about being single,” Suhyeok interrupts, casually. “So I need them to know I’m not so single anymore.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cheongsan questions, widening his eyes in disbelief. “We did not talk about convincing your family of your relationship status! You’re telling me I’m going to have to act like I’m your boyfriend around your parents? That I’m going to be involved in your ploy to trick your family?” He crinkles his nose, pensive for a second. “Maybe you should just find someone you like and actually date them instead? This is so much extra work.”

“Well…” Suhyeok says. “You come around often, so they’ve been suspecting for a bit.” Cheongsan looks ready to speak, but he quickly treads on before Cheongsan could get a word in, “I never told you because you’d freak out on me and make me clarify that we’re not a thing, so I’m very glad I didn’t pass on that piece of intel to you until now. So, you know.” He shrugs. “We might as well take advantage of that. And plus, I don’t have anyone I actually want to date, so… You’re like… The next best choice.”

“Next best choice?” Cheongsan repeats, offended. “You made it very clear that I’m the first fucking choice, so don’t you dare reduce me to anything less than that.” He rolls his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. I don’t have the energy for this. You’re such a prick,” he says, no malice behind his words, face twisting in concern as he adds, “You’re not actually serious about this, though, are you? The whole tricking your family thing. Like, I don’t want to lie to your parents.” 

Suhyeok tilts his head, an apologetic grin making its way onto his face. “…Sorry?”

Cheongsan lets out a long-suffering groan. “You being serious is probably the worst part of this whole thing,” he stresses, face falling into his hands. “This is such a godawful idea. Why can’t you just live with people bugging you with questions for a little while more? Like you said that night, it’s not like your life choices are any of their business.” 

The fact that Cheongsan remembers his little rant from that night does something to him; maybe it’s because it tells Suhyeok he actually pays attention to what he says, which makes him feel pretty damn great. 

Seeing that Cheongsan’s distracted, he takes this chance to take the pen from him, quickly jotting down onto the piece of paper, ‘8. Date nights every fortnight on a Sunday.’ 

He grins, ignoring Cheongsan’s loud and overdramatic complaining in the background. Things are finally coming together, and it’s all thanks to him being a self-admitted insufferable shit. “Thanks, fake boyfriend.”

Cheongsan shoots him a pointed look. “Right now, in this very moment, I kind of really hate you.”

(He doesn’t mean it, Suhyeok knows that much.)

He’s studying under his nails, wondering if he should get them cut, when he looks up and sees Cheongsan walking in his direction alongside Onjo. He could almost hear them squabbling over something stupid, with the way Cheongsan’s grinning and the disgruntled look on Onjo’s face. A corner of his mouth lifts as his eyes drift over to Cheongsan. “Hey!” he says, sauntering over to the two, hands slipped casually into his pockets.

“Uh,” Cheongsan murmurs when he’s stopped in front of them. He clears his throat. “Hey.” They’re staring at each other for a few seconds, before Cheongsan breaks eye contact with him by looking over at Onjo. “Go on ahead, I’ve got some things I need to discuss with him,” he says, eyes flickering over to Suhyeok. “And save a seat for me in the lecture hall.” 

Onjo eyes Suhyeok with an indecipherable expression, before breaking out into a full on grin. “Congratulations,” she says as she walks past him, squeezing around his forearm. “You guys have always been so cute together, so it’s nice that you’re finally dating.” She pauses, then tacks on, “But if only it was real. That’d be even sweeter, don’t you think?”

Suhyeok blinks when she gives him one last squeeze before bidding a quick farewell, telling Cheongsan she will see him later. 

“You told her?” Suhyeok questions, exasperated, turning to face Cheongsan. “Already?” 

“I told her and Gyeongsu,” Cheongsan answers, immediately defensive, and when Suhyeok furrows his brows in complete disapproval, he raises his hands up. “What? They’re my closest friends! They deserve to know this, instead of getting blindsided when we end up holding hands in front of them.”

“Yeah, but still.”

“If you expected me to lie to them, then that’s not happening,” Cheongsan says, defiantly. “Deal with it.”

Suhyeok sighs. He can never win an argument with this guy, so he’s not going to waste his time trying. “Okay, fine. What did you want to talk about, anyway?”

“So I’ve been thinking… What’s our backstory? We’re going to need one to make this convincing.”

“What?” Suhyeok questions, forehead creasing in confusion. “Backstory?” 

“Our backstory on how we started dating,” Cheongsan slowly says, as if that’s supposed to be obvious. Which, in hindsight, maybe it should have been. “Did you think we were going to go into this, armed with nothing but a convincing act of hunger for public display of affection when we’re around other people?” 

Suhyeok raises a brow. “That’s no one else’s business but ours.” He grins a little. “You’re taking this seriously, for someone who was so opposed to the idea at first.”

“I’m just trying to cover as much ground as I can because this is going to be fairly embarrassing for the both of us if we get caught faking this shit. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Reputation?” Suhyeok repeats, raising a brow. “That’s the first time I’m hearing about your reputation. Oh, why don’t you tell me more? We’ve got all day.”

Cheongsan rolls his eyes, ignoring his snarky comment. “It might not be needed, but we should still have something convincing to fall back onto, just in case. We need a story we are both aware of,” Cheongsan reasons. “So co-operate with me here a little, won’t you? It won’t hurt you.” He scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “And plus, you’re the one who roped me into this, so maybe you should be more attentive to your own cause before our covers get blown.” 

“I mean…” Suhyeok scratches at the itch on the nape of his neck, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Cheongsan raises his brows at him. “So?”

“Well, it’s a friends to lovers kind of situation, no?” Suhyeok supplies. “I mean, we’ve been friends for some time now. We started liking each other and then it came to a head one day when I asked you out because I could no longer hide the fact that I really, really liked you. And you said yes, because you liked me back, too. Something like that should do.”

“That’s so cliché and boring though…”

“Well, that’s the best I can come up with,” Suhyeok says, defensively. “Plus, it’s plausible. So many people start out as friends and then end up falling for each other.” He quirks a brow as a thought unintentionally crosses his mind. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we fell for each other while faking a relationship?” he asks, huffing out a soft laugh. 

There’s a bit of a silence, before Cheongsan says, “Like I’d fall for you.” An uneasy smile is on his lips. Suhyeok thinks nothing of it. 

(That’s a lie. He thinks everything of it.) 

“Ha. Right?” He extends a hand, and Cheongsan looks down at it, then back up at him, confused. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hold it,” Suhyeok says. “It’s in the conditions. Holding hands is fine, remember? Surely you do remember that, when you’re the one who wrote that ridiculous list up.”

Cheongsan glances around them. “But—”

“Within these grounds,” Suhyeok says, rolling his eyes and taking Cheongsan’s hand into his, intertwining their fingers, “we’re dating. In front of my family, too, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He pulls him closer to him, a grin sneaking up onto his face. 

Something flickers to life behind Cheongsan’s eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he murmurs, squeezing his hand.

Suhyeok grins. “Well, at least I’m unofficially your idiot. Can’t complain too much about that, can I?” 

(He kind of likes it like that, even if it’s “unofficial”.) 

Overtime, people eventually find out about them. 

It’s not like they were being subtle about it either; Suhyeok has to give it to Cheongsan for acting the way he does around him in front of all these people, in order to “put on a good show” (his words, not Suhyeok’s), even though he was clearly opposed to this idea at first. When in private, he’d tease him speechless about it — not that Cheongsan appreciates the teasing even though most of it is meant to be lighthearted, which only makes it the more entertaining. 

There are times when Cheongsan ends up fooling him, too, and he has to take a step back to remind himself that this is fake. That Cheongsan looking at him with that smile of his, paired with that small flicker behind his eyes, doesn’t mean anything.

That it shouldn’t mean anything.

They do get the occasional side-eye, but Suhyeok couldn’t care less about that. Because as fake as this whole arrangement is, he’s inexplicably happy, and enjoying it quite a lot. 

He chalks it up to the fact that no one’s coming up to ask him why he’s single, nosying into his life like they’re his friend or something, and absolutely not because his heart has been fluttering and doing tap dances in his chest (increasingly so, which is… Worrying) whenever Cheongsan does something he finds so ridiculously yet incredibly endearing.

It doesn’t take long before they become old news (the fact that they became news to start with is ridiculous), but that doesn’t mean their names aren’t on people’s tongues, constantly on their minds, because they can’t mind their own business. 

As always, Suhyeok couldn’t give less of a fuck about them, and only holds Cheongsan’s hand tighter in his whenever someone questions their relationship — not that he has to do that, he just feels like it makes things more convincing, which it does. It’s certainly not because he has been slowly discovering he has always wanted to hold Cheongsan’s hand without reservation, in public. (Their hands just fit so nicely together so sue him for liking the way Cheongsan’s hand links with his.)

“So like,” Onjo asks during one of their movie nights, in which Suhyeok was forced to attend, “have you guys kissed yet? You know, just to make it convincing or whatever?” 

“He wrote all these conditions down and kissing is something we can’t do,” Suhyeok says, “which is a shame. Because I’d love to kiss him; let him know what he’s missing out on, you know?”

“You probably kiss really sloppily, so I’d rather not experience that,” Cheongsan quips, sidling over to Onjo and sitting down next to her on one of the beanbags. 

Suhyeok glances over at him and frowns. Why’s he sitting next to Onjo and not him? “Hey, come sit next to me,” he says before he could stop himself.

Cheongsan peers over at him in the semi-lit room. “I’m comfortable here.”

Suhyeok’s frown deepens. “But—”

“What are we watching?” Gyeongsu questions, crouched down by his laptop and scrolling through series and movies on Netflix.

“Didn’t we agree on the first two episodes of season four of Stranger Things?” Namra pipes up, leaning her head on Onjo’s shoulder. 

Suhyeok glances over at them and catches Onjo threading her fingers through Namra’s hair; Namra looks up at her with a soft, affectionate grin, arms wrapping around her waist. He catches himself a little too late, wondering what it would be like if he and Cheongsan were like that; daydreams about it a little, too. 

(Him daydreaming about shit like this is old news, but it’s become more frequent these days, ever since this whole thing started. So… That’s a little worrying. He thinks about it in a completely platonic way, though, so surely that counts for something?)

“That’s not technically a movie,” Cheongsan mutters. 

“Two episodes make for around the same time as one movie,” Onjo says. “And we already agreed upon it, so we’ll settle on that.”

“Then Stranger Things it is,” Gyeongsu says, opening up the series on his laptop. Suhyeok’s eyes follow him as he takes the spot next to Cheongsan, the Netflix introduction playing in the background. “Move over, that’s my beanbag.” 

“Sharing is caring, you asshole,” Cheongsan shoots back, but there’s no bite to his words as he moves over to make adequate space for him, easy affection slipping into his voice and gently weaving their way into his words. It’s always like this with Gyeongsu and him, so soft and so tender — it makes Suhyeok wonder. Sometimes. 

Emphasis on the sometimes. 

Suhyeok spares a quick glance up at the screen projected onto the wall in front of them, then his eyes flicker back towards Cheongsan, who’s now leaning over towards Gyeongsu and whispering something to him; he pulls away, breaking out into peals of laughter at whatever Gyeongsu had said in retaliation, and something in Suhyeok twists a little.

It’s an ugly feeling he knows a little too well, but would never admit to. Swallowing heavily, he tears his eyes away from them. 

“Hey.” He blinks, looking over to his right and sees Namra staring up at him. “You alright?” she asks. She glances over at the spot Suhyeok was eyeing at just moments ago and sees Cheongsan and Gyeongsu leaning against each other, then looks back at him with a different gaze; a knowing one.

(Suhyeok hates how she can be so observant.)

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Suhyeok asks, awkward about being caught red-handed like this. He shifts under Namra’s sharp gaze. “Uh, Gyeongsu?” he calls out.

Gyeongsu glances over at him. Cheongsan does, too, curiously. “Yeah?”

“Where’s the bathroom again?”

Even through the dark, Suhyeok can see the judgemental squinting aimed directly at him. “You’ve been here plenty of times,” Gyeongsu says.

“Yeah, well, I have a shitty memory.” 

Sighing, Gyeongsu tells him the directions. He scrambles up from his spot and makes his way out of Gyeongsu’s room and to the bathroom.

He’s in there for a solid five minutes, alone with his thoughts, hands gripping on the edges of the cool bathroom sink, staring at his reflection and considering going home — he could say he’s feeling unwell, which wouldn’t be a total lie, because he does feel kind of like shit — when a few soft raps on the door tears his focus away from himself. He glances at the door reflected at him in the mirror. He turns on the tap, quickly running his hands under the water. “Sorry!” he calls out. “Didn’t mean to hog the bathroom.”

He turns off the tap, wipes his hands on his pants and opens the door. There, Cheongsan stands, staring up at him. 

Suhyeok blinks down at him, stilling.

“I thought you fell down the toilet or something,” Cheongsan jokes, expression relaxing considerably. “Became kind of worried because you weren’t coming back. You okay?” He sounds concerned, and it probably shouldn’t affect Suhyeok as much as it does, but… It does. It affects him more than he’d like to admit. 

“You don’t usually care about my wellbeing.” He didn’t mean to sound snappy, meant for it to be a joke, but it definitely did come out snappy and off-putting; it’s too late to take it back because Cheongsan’s frowning up at him and now he feels even worse than before.

“That’s not true,” he says, visibly hurt. “I may sometimes be a dick, but I do give a shit about you.” He sighs, looking away. “If you don’t feel well, you should probably head home.”

“I’m fine,” Suhyeok says. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way when I said that. It was supposed to… Come out more playfully than that.” He rubs the nape of his neck, sheepish, other hand sliding into his pocket. “I’m just— why won’t you sit next me?”

“What?”

“You sat next to Onjo even though there was an open space next to me.” 

“That’s because the beanbag was right there for me to sit on, and it happened to be right next to Onjo,” Cheongsan explains. “I wasn’t going to haul it over to your side just to sit next to you, even though I was kind of contemplating on it for a hot second. I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you, but there you go.” He squints his eyes at him. “Wait a second. Lee Suhyeok, are you… Are you jealous?” 

“I’m not jealous,” Suhyeok denies too quickly for it to not sound suspicious. “Why would I be jealous?” He lets out an unnatural sounding high-pitched laugh and hopes that sounds convincing enough. 

“I don’t know, it sounded like you were.” He smirks a little. “You can be honest with me. I won’t judge,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around Suhyeok’s wrist. “Let’s go back before the others grow suspicious of us.”

Suhyeok cocks his head to the side. He ignores the tingling sensation around his wrist, where Cheongsan’s fingers are currently wrapped around. “Suspicious of what? They’re the only ones who know we’re not actually dating.”

“Yeah, but anybody would suspect something if we’re away for this long, dating or not,” Cheongsan argues, tugging him back to Gyeongsu’s room. “Also, if it really bothers you, I’ll sit next to you, with or without the beanbag. How about that?” 

“There’s no need,” Suhyeok mumbles. “Don’t forfeit your comfort for me.”

“Sitting next to Gyeongsu is only going to make me not pay attention to the series, since he has the tendency to talk a lot, so might as well,” he says. “Plus,” he says, craning his neck to look at Suhyeok and throwing a soft smile in his direction, “I like sitting next to you. Believe it or not.” 

True to his words, he ends up sitting next to Suhyeok, leaving the beanbag for Gyeongsu to sit on by himself, to which Gyeongsu was very okay about. 

“What were you guys doing out there for so long?” Onjo questions, peering at them with eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Cheongsan looks up at him with an ‘I told you so’ look. “He was taking a huge dump,” Cheongsan says, laughingly, with the humour of a five-year-old. 

“Not true. I was playing around with the newly installed bidet and lost track of time. Totally recommend the seat warmer setting,” Suhyeok says, grinning down at Cheongsan. 

“We have a bidet?” Gyeongsu questions loudly, breaking his stare away from the screen to throw an incredulous look over in their direction. “I live here and I didn’t even know that we had something to wash our asses with. Are you kidding me? That’s fucking revolutionary!”

Somehow, Cheongsan’s hand finds its way into his in the midst of all this tender chaos. Or maybe he was the one who initiated the hand-holding; it doesn’t matter though, because neither of them end up letting go for the duration of the night. 

So… Date night.

Or more like a fake date night. 

He’s currently spending way too much time picking out an outfit for their fake date night.

It shouldn’t even fucking matter, because none of this is real; he can wear whatever he wants, but he has it in his mind that he has to look somewhat presentable and definitely not like he had just jumped out of bed and thrown on whatever was not in the dirty laundry pile, which is currently shoved into one of the corners of his room. On most days, he acts like that pile doesn’t exist.

His mum is going to be real pissed at him for that when she finds out he hasn’t been doing his laundry properly, but he will deal with the consequences of that later because he’s got more pressing matters at hand.  

His phone buzzes on his nightstand as he’s sticking a leg through one of his pant legs, and he quickly hobbles over to it, nearly tripping over in his haste to get to his phone. Grumbling, he picks his phone up. 

cheongsan: 

(16:30) when should i go over to your place so we can walk to the restaurant together?

(16:31) btw i’m still in my pjs lmao

Suhyeok grins like a love-struck fool (in which he is not. He’s just excited for the… For the food tonight.) 

suhyeok: 

(16:35) wow, and i’m all dressed up here, ready to go on our date

He takes a quick glance down at himself, shirt unbuttoned and one of his legs completely bare. That’s a lie, but Cheongsan doesn’t need to know that. 

He did contemplate on slicking his hair back with some gel product but is reminded last minute that Cheongsan likes his hair in his fluffy state. (Cheongsan had told him that while absentmindedly playing with his hair and it’s stuck with him ever since. It’s also something he teases him about whenever he gets the chance to.)

cheongsan: 

(16:35) fake date.

(16:35) it’s a fake date.

(16:36) have you told your parents about us yet? or are we just going to blindside them

suhyeok: 

(16:38) i did kind of hint to them i’m in a relationship

cheongsan: 

(16:38) hint how? 

suhyeok: 

(16:39) y’know, acting like a typical person who has just started dating the love of their life

(16:39) always grinning at my phone and acting suspicious

cheongsan: 

(16:39) and they believe you?

suhyeok: 

(16:40) i’d like to think of myself as someone who can act to an extent

(16:40) they don’t know it’s you, though

(16:40) they will soon enough

cheongsan: 

(16:49) that sounds like a threat and i’m not sure if i like that?? 

(16:50) what if they don’t believe us?

suhyeok: 

(16:53) like i said, they’ve been suspecting for a while now. 

cheongsan: 

(16:53) icb they might think we have something going on between us

(16:54) meaning that they think we like each other or something

(16:54) gross 

suhyeok: 

(16:57) i’d like to believe liking me isn’t gross but you’re really making me rethink that here :’(

(16:58) anyway, i’ll see you at 6?

cheongsan: 

(16:59) kk

suhyeok: 

(16:59) <3

cheongsan: 

(16:59) you need to stop flirting with me. it’s going to make me think you like me or something and we can’t have that

—

cheongsan:

(17:12) <33 

—

“Your parents seemed very… Excited about us,” comments Cheongsan.

They’re making their way to the restaurant Suhyeok had found last week while searching for restaurants to go to on a first date — yes, he put a lot of unnecessary effort into something that isn’t even real, but that doesn’t have to mean anything significant; he’s just meticulous is all — and Cheongsan’s hands are tucked deep into his coat pockets instead of being linked with Suhyeok’s hand. 

Suhyeok finds this highly offensive.

“Like I said—”

“They’ve been suspecting about us for quite some time. Yeah, I get it, but it’s just… Do we really give off such a vibe?” Cheongsan wonders.

“What vibe?”

“Me, you. A couple? Really? I don’t see it.”

“Then I think we’re both blind, because I’ve been asked about us before,” Suhyeok says.

“What about us?”

“Whether we’re dating,” Suhyeok answers. “Some were joking, some were… Very serious about it. They weren’t happy about it.”

Cheongsan snickers. “Is it those, uh”—he stifles a laugh—“secret admirers of yours?”

“Oh my god, don’t even remind me,” Suhyeok groans. “One of them kept trying to ask me out, and I eventually had to turn them down in front of other people. It was so fucking awkward rejecting them, because they ended up making a scene out of it even though I let them down in the gentlest and nicest way possible.” He glances over at Cheongsan, who’s currently cracking up, laughter like music to his ears. “I’m glad you find my misery amusing.”

“I mean, at least people have taste,” Cheongsan says. “Like, let’s be real. You are objectively attractive.”

Suhyeok has to will his heart to calm down before he speaks up. “Are you calling me attractive?” he questions, trying to sound as nonchalant and low-key as possible; like his best friend calling him attractive isn’t doing a million things to him all at once.

“It’s the public’s opinion,” Cheongsan says. “I’ve never said you didn’t look good, have I? Even in high school…” he trails off, leaving his spoken thoughts unfinished. 

“That is true. You’ve used every insult under the sun on me, except ugly.”

Cheongsan grins. “Mhm.” He looks up at him, catching his eyes. His eyes reflect the rays of the setting sun, the fading light glowing golden on his skin, and Suhyeok wonders how someone could look so… Ethereal. He catches himself before he could spiral further. “It makes me wonder why a pretty face like yours chooses to stay single. You’ve never really told me the reason.”

“I just don’t like anyone like that,” Suhyeok says, shrugging his shoulders; he tries not to reel at Cheongsan calling him pretty, and as a non-joke, too. Tries not to think about how what he had said feels like a blatant lie as the words slip out of his mouth. 

(It isn’t a lie, it just— it feels like one.)

“I mean, I liked Namra for a bit? But it was a fleeting crush. I told her and that was that.” He pauses. “Do you still like Onjo? Or anyone in particular?” 

“Nah,” Cheongsan answers. “The feelings were only temporary. And she kind of indirectly rejected me the moment she told me she had a thing for Namra.” There’s a beat of silence; Suhyeok wonders if he’s going to answer his second question. “I… Don’t like anyone, not right now, at least…” 

It almost sounds like a lie, but Suhyeok doesn’t call him out for it. Who was he to question him, anyway, when he’s out here feeling like a fraud?

He then thinks back to Gyeongsu. He could ask about him, but something stops him from doing so.

“Is it really a rejection if she didn’t even know how you felt about her? I mean, you never really told her,” he asks instead.

“…I mean, that’s one way to look at it,” Cheongsan says, a small grin dawning upon his face as he nudges Suhyeok with his elbow. “I guess we’re both on the same page then. Single by choice.”

“We’re kind of not really single,” Suhyeok says. “We’re dating, aren’t we?”

“Fake dating. So it doesn’t count.”

“Oh no, it counts in everyone else’s eyes. They’ll never know this is fake, except Onjo and Gyeongsu.”

“Add Namra to the list, because Onjo’s told her about us. Well, at least the full story; she only knew about half of it.”

“Of course she would have,” Suhyeok mumbles. He looks ahead of them and sees the restaurant looming up ahead of them. “We’re almost there,” he announces. He grabs Cheongsan by the elbow and tugs him towards the restaurant. 

He’s made a reservation for two a few days prior, so they get directed to their reserved table almost immediately. 

“This place is always booked out; how did you get a reservation?” Cheongsan questions as he looks around, wondrously. It’s bustling with people, tables full and waiters milling around.

“I know people,” Suhyeok says, and when Cheongsan shoots him a ‘get serious’ look, he leans back into his chair. “I guess I got lucky. Someone had just cancelled their reservation when I called to book in.”

“You put a lot of effort into something that’s supposedly fake,” Cheongsan comments, a flicker of a smile on his lips. “I’ll give you a point for the dedication, and another point because I’ve wanted to come here for the longest of times.” He closes his eyes and takes in a big whiff of the smell of fried chicken around them. “Good god, I’m hungry.” 

“Wow, I’m such a good fake boyfriend,” Suhyeok says, earning himself an eye roll. “What? It’s true! Let’s be real — no other person would go this far for a fake date. Or even for an actual date.”

“That’s because you’re way too extra, and clearly have way too much time in your hands.”’

“Come on, a little love and appreciation for my hard work isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“I appreciate your hard work. There, that’s the most you’re going to get out of me.”

“I will take that over your rudeness any day,” Suhyeok quips. 

They’re given the menu, and after some browsing, they end up deciding on the original fried chicken.

“You know,” Cheongsan says, propping his elbow on the table, head in hand, “I’ve been wondering.”

Suhyeok raises his brows. “About what?”

“Why me?” Suhyeok tilts his head in confusion, prompting Cheongsan to elaborate on what he means. “I mean, you did say you’d be most comfortable with fake dating me, whatever that’s supposed to mean, but… It makes me wonder if there’s any other reason you’re not telling me.” He sounds… Expectant? For what exactly, Suhyeok’s not sure. Or maybe it’s his imagination fucking around with him again. 

“There’s no other reason,” Suhyeok says, slowly, looking over at the small bucket of utensils placed at the side of the table. “Like I’ve explained, it would have been awkward as fuck if I asked someone else for this favour.”

“And it wouldn’t have been awkward with me?”

“No, or else I wouldn’t have asked you.” His eyes flicker back to Cheongsan. “And plus, you’re a natural at this. I know I tease you about it, but you’re… Good at pretending.” 

If only this wasn’t pretend. He tenses a little, quickly batting the intrusive thought away before it lingers for too long and ruins his night. 

“Yeah,” Cheongsan says, after a momentary pause. “Yeah, pretending.” There’s a shift in the way Cheongsan’s looking at him, in his tone, but Suhyeok can’t quite place any of it. It makes him feel a little uneasy. “I mean, I am very good at pretending, I will give that to myself.” He leans back in his chair, expression relaxing, morphing into something Suhyeok’s more familiar with. “Anyway, I think you should pay for this date.”

“I was planning on paying,” Suhyeok says, the unease from before slowly ebbing away. “If there’s one thing I’m incapable of being, it’s being an asshole, I’ll have you know that.”

“…And the consecutive dates as well, because I’m not the one who suggested date nights every fortnight.”

“I mean, I have a part-time job but I’m not that rich so I’m going to need you to chip in somehow.”

“Look, think of it like this: I’m a simple person, in the sense of being easily satisfied. Free food is the way to my heart, and we could be having a date at a convenient store with microwaved meals and I would still fucking love you for that.”

Suhyeok laughs. “So cheap dates are fine with you?”

Cheongsan grins. “As long as free food is involved, then yes, that’s fine with me. I don’t discriminate.” 

“I’m starting to think you’re using this as an opportunity to leech off of me,” Suhyeok jokes. 

“The consequences of making me your fake boyfriend,” Cheongsan says, attempting to wink at him but fails miserably, which causes Suhyeok to snort loudly.

That isn’t received well by the patrons around them, but he couldn’t care less. He always cares a little less when Cheongsan is with him. 

“Were you trying to wink?” he asks, stifling his laughter behind his palm. “Oh my god, you’re such a dork.” 

“I wasn’t trained to wink professionally,” Cheongsan says, defensively, a bright smile on his lips, dimple on full display, “so I’m sorry if that failed.”

Their food is served a short while after, and they dig in; Suhyeok glances up, smiling a little when he sees Cheongsan enjoying the food. Cheongsan looks up at him, meeting his eyes. 

“What?” he asks, raising his brows. Suhyeok’s eyes inadvertently drift to his greasy lips, and he catches a crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth. “You’re one messy eater, you know?” Suhyeok says. He takes a napkin and leans over to wipe it off his mouth without thinking. “I mean, you’ve always been messy, in all honesty,” he mumbles, then pauses midway when Cheongsan clears his throat loudly, staring straight at him with a slight frown. His hand hangs in the air between them. Hold the fucking phone. What on earth is he doing right now?

“Um,” he starts, quickly sitting back down, napkin crumpling in his closing fist. “You had something on your mouth, so being the friend that I am, I wanted to help you wipe it off since you couldn’t exactly see your own face—”

“Suhyeok, it’s fine. You don’t have to freak out over it,” Cheongsan says, taking the napkin from Suhyeok’s loose fist and wiping his mouth with it. “All good?”

Suhyeok nods meekly, swallowing thickly. 

Oh god. Oh, fucking god. He’s so…

In like, his brain supplies. Uselessly, might he add. Or maybe in love. Either would do. 

He sinks a little further down his seat. 

Nope. No, no, no. This is fake, this is fake, this is fake.

“Yeah, I’ve had several occasions where people tell me I’m a messy eater,” Cheongsan continues, as if this isn’t affecting him the way it’s affecting Suhyeok, who’s still sitting there in a bit of a daze, wondering what the hell’s wrong with himself.

“Yeah, right,” Suhyeok mumbles, halfheartedly. He takes a deep breath in, in order to calm himself down. “Anyway, this restaurant — worth it?” he asks, blatantly changing subjects. 

Not that Cheongsan seems to have noticed. “Oh, absolutely,” Cheongsan says, grinning softly. “Best fried chicken I’ve ever had, if I had to be honest. It’s no wonder why it’s always booked out.” 

“Great,” Suhyeok says. “That’s great, because then that means my efforts were all worth it.”

“Mhm,” Cheongsan hums in agreement, but Suhyeok’s mind’s still reeling a little from earlier, so he doesn’t catch whatever he says next. “Dude.”

That snaps him out of his thoughts. “What?”

“You’re never listening to me,” he says, exhaling loudly. “I asked, am I walking you home after this? Because as much as I love your parents, I kind of don’t want them asking me more questions than they’ve already asked earlier today.” He scrunches his nose. “I nearly slipped up once or twice and that was mortifying.”

Tittering softly, Suhyeok says, “I think I should be the one walking you home. You’re a klutz in the dark, tripping over your own two feet and shit.” 

“I’m not a klutz,” Cheongsan denies with a scowl. “I don’t trip over my own two feet. I’m… Perfectly balanced, at all times.” 

They end up chatting away for the night, the incident from before slipping from Suhyeok’s mind. It isn’t until the waiter passively aggressively implies they’ve overextended their stay by taking their plates without asking do they realise they’ve stayed for way too long. Suhyeok quickly pays at the counter, laughter bubbling at the back of his throat. They stumble out onto the streets, laughing about how ashen-faced the waiter had looked. At one point, Suhyeok finds Cheongsan clutching onto his arm and leaning onto him, still laughing himself silly over something that really isn’t that funny, but for some reason, is just so fucking hilarious right now. 

The laughter dies in his throat when Cheongsan looks up at him, tears of mirth set in the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. They’re so close. Cheongsan seems to notice this too, because he stiffens slightly, smile dimming; his fingers curl tighter around Suhyeok’s arm, and they’re gazing at each other. Waiting — waiting for something to happen.

Suhyeok swallows. He’s not sure what he’s doing, but he does vaguely process the fact that he’s leaning in, closer and closer. The tips of their noses are almost touching when Cheongsan quickly leans away, letting go of him. “Wow,” he says, stretching his arms above his head and conveniently moving away from him. “That was probably the most I’ve laughed in a while,” he says, avoiding Suhyeok’s eyes.

Suhyeok blinks, dumbfounded. Condition number two on that piece of flimsy notebook paper swims to the forefront of his mind. Right now, he kinds of hates its existence, and he cannot, for the life of him, explain why. “Yeah,” he says, slipping his hands into his coat pockets, suddenly feeling self-conscious and awkward. “Yeah, same here.”

What the fuck was that? Why am I… What is this? 

“So… I guess I’ll see you on Tuesday?” Cheongsan questions, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“What? I thought I was going to walk you home.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not that long of a way. I can manage,” Cheongsan says; he sounds distant, almost.

Suhyeok’s brows knit together. “Cheongsan—”

“Tell your parents I said good night,” Cheongsan says, throwing him a quick smile, which doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And uh, thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

“…Yeah, sure,” Suhyeok says, relenting. He watches as Cheongsan gives him a quick wave and then turns around and walks away in the opposite direction, leaving Suhyeok to dwell in his own thoughts — one of them being what would have happened if Cheongsan didn’t lean away at the last second.

(Wishing he didn’t lean away at the last second).

After a whole day of radio silence, with his messages left on delivered, Tuesday arrives, and it’s almost as if whatever happened that night (or what was about to happen, but never happened) has been completely forgotten. 

Cheongsan greets him like usual, in the particular way he does ever since they started dating. The overly sweet good mornings and the handholding, all of which were atypical to them before this whole thing begun.

Correction. It’s dating — with air quotes. Because none of this is real. 

This is the way Suhyeok keeps himself grounded before his mind wanders off into dangerous territories. 

“Hey,” Cheongsan says, voice gentle and eyes soft and Suhyeok wonders how he can remain so composed. Has he been the only one freaking out over that night? 

“Hey,” Suhyeok murmurs back as Cheongsan’s hand slips easily into his, their fingers intertwining so naturally. “All good?” 

Cheongsan nods. “All good.”

So… Yeah. Clearly, he’s been the only one dying over it. Fun.

The whole day goes by without a hitch — lectures, tutorials, the mundanity of it all. Suhyeok daydreams, professors almost lulling him to sleep with their shoddily made presentations and their unwillingness to engage with the students in front of them. 

Throughout it all, Cheongsan slips in and out of his mind, in gentle waves. The image of his face, close-up, fades in and out of his mind, edges fuzzy.  

By quarter past four, Suhyeok finds himself standing outside the lecture hall, waiting for Cheongsan to finish for the day, like he’s been doing since the start of the semester. Their timetable coincides some days, which allows them to go home together on the Tuesday and the Thursday, which he’s secretly very grateful for. He’s leaning against the door, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, when he hears the doors springing open, students spilling out into the empty hallways. Chatter fills the once quiet hallways, shoes muffled against carpet as people make their way to wherever they’re headed for next. 

He glances at his phone when it vibrates in his hand and sees Cheongsan’s name on his lit-up screen. 

cheongsan: 

(16:32) you should go home first, i’ve gotta speak to the professor about something

Suhyeok doesn’t end up heeding his advice, and ends up staying back for an extra fifteen minutes, waiting for Cheongsan to come out. Boyfriend duties, the voice in his brain sings merrily, and he has to shut it down before it gets too loud inside his head. When the door opens, he sees Cheongsan coming out, looking like someone who’s in need of a big hug. “Hey,” he calls out. Cheongsan turns to look at him, eyes widening in pleasant surprise. 

“Suhyeok?” he says as Suhyeok saunters up to him, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “I told you to go home. Why are you still here?” 

“I felt like it was my duty to wait for you,” Suhyeok says as Cheongsan meets him halfway. 

“You didn’t have to.” He has a smile on his face, and Suhyeok tries not to stare at it for too long. 

Suhyeok peers down at him. “What happened?” he asks, concerned. 

“Just…” Cheongsan’s forehead crinkles, lips turning downwards into a frown. “I didn’t do too well in my last assignment, so I stayed back and asked for more feedback,” he explains. 

“Oh?” Suhyeok says, nudging Cheongsan with his elbow. “Didn’t know you took your education this seriously. The Cheongsan I know — or at least thought I knew — doesn’t go to such lengths.

Cheongsan huffs out a laugh. “Fuck off,” he says, a smile in his voice. “I want to do well, you know? I’d prefer not flunking university after working my ass off in high school.” 

“I get it,” Suhyeok says. “But you looking sad like this doesn’t sit well with me, so I’m going to make it my personal mission to cheer you up.”

Intrigued, he asks, “Cheer me up how?”

Suhyeok grins, wrapping gentle fingers around Cheongsan’s wrist. “Ice-cream,” he says, simply. “Because ice-cream does wonders.”

—

“You are so boring. Basic. I can’t believe I’m dating someone so basic,” Suhyeok laments, glancing at Cheongsan’s cone with distaste.

“Shut up. Vanilla is the best flavour out there. Vanilla is the go-to when five-star restaurants add a scoop of ice-cream to certain meals on their menus.”

“You’re missing out on wonderful things in life,” Suhyeok says, offering his ice-cream up for tasting. “Come on. Just one bite, and you’ll fall in love. You can’t go wrong with some chocolate chip cookie dough, I promise.”

Cheongsan crinkles his nose, leaning further back into his seat. Something inside Suhyeok stirs at the sight. He’s sort of used to feeling this way, but he’s also sort of not. “No thanks, I’ll stick to my basic ice-cream flavour.”

Rolling his eyes and trying to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach (is it his constipation finally catching up to him?) Suhyeok takes a bite out of his ice-cream. “Your loss,” he says around a mouthful of quickly melting delicacy. 

Cheongsan visibly cringes. “To this day, I still can’t believe you bite into your ice-cream. Like? That’s some psychopathic behaviour right there.” 

“I’m sorry you have the teeth of a sixty-year-old grandpa,” Suhyeok shoots back. “Can’t relate.” 

Cheongsan discreetly flips him off. “I ought to break up with you for that insult alone.”

“Oh, please don’t. I can’t live without you, Cheongsan-ah, don’t break my heart like this.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds before dissolving into fitful laughter. Thank god no one else is around at the moment, or else they’d get kicked out for causing a disturbance and annoying the other patrons. It seems like them being loud around each other in places that wouldn’t appreciate their raucousness is starting to become a theme.

“You are such an idiot,” Cheongsan says between giggles, face lit-up. He’s positively glowing with how happy and carefree he looks.

Suhyeok’s heart does a backwards flip in his chest; as always, he tries not to put meaning into that. “Hanging out with you has definitely made me more of an idiot than before,” Suhyeok comments, a playful lilt to his voice. “Which would explain why I have been reduced to only one working brain-cell in the more recent years.”

“Hanging out with me has made you into the kind, loveable man you are today, so I think you should thank me for contributing to your character development,” Cheongsan jokes, taking a quick lick of his ice-cream so it doesn’t melt and drip down the sides.

Loveable, loveable, loveable. 

It repeats in his head like a mantra, three syllables soon morphing into one. 

Love, love, love. 

He swallows, thickly. There is something going on with him, and he’s not close to figuring it out. 

It must have shown on his face, because Cheongsan’s laughter dies down soon after, expression morphing into one of concern. “Hey,” Cheongsan says. “Are you okay?”

“Just a bit tired is all,” Suhyeok lies, faking a yawn. “Been a pretty long day today.”

“It has been, hasn’t it?” Cheongsan agrees, smile back upon his lips. “We’ll get you home after this and tuck you into bed, how about that?” 

“Are you babying me right now?” 

“I’m not babying you. I’m just being a dutiful boyfriend.” The amount of times he’s called himself Suhyeok’s boyfriend without adding the “fake” part in front is one of the reasons why Suhyeok has been lacking a lot of sleep lately. His sleep debt is slowly racking up, and it’s for one reason only; the reason being in the form of a person. It’s just… It’s hard not to read into it, like some delusional madman. 

“You’re the worst,” Suhyeok mumbles, unfiltered affection tinging his words. “Let’s get out of here soon and head home. I could really use a nap right now.” 

Cheongsan nods, a bit of ice-cream smeared on his top lip. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Suhyeok’s finger twitches, but he manages to resist the urge to reach out like he did last time.

—

He wakes up, eyes bleary from sleep. The room is dark, save for the street lights filtering through his curtains and spilling into his room in soft, white stripes. He grabs his phone from his nightstand and turns it on, squinting when the sudden bright light floods his vision. “Oh god,” he mumbles, quickly lowering the brightness so his eyes can adjust properly. He blinks when he sees a text message on his screen; sits up so quickly upon seeing the name, it sends his head into a spinning frenzy, blanket pooling around his waist. 

cheongsan:

(01:01) you awake?

suhyeok:

(01:02) i am now

cheongsan:

(01:02) oh shit did i wake you up?

(01:02) sorry lol

suhyeok:

(01:02) nah, you didn’t. you’re fine.

He watches as the dots appear on his screen, indicating Cheongsan’s typing something. They disappear for a few seconds, then pop back up again. 

cheongsan:

(01:04) thanks

Suhyeok blinks, head tilting slightly in question.

suhyeok:

(01:04) for what?

cheongsan:

(01:04) for today

(01:05) i felt much better after hanging out with you

(01:05) so.. yeah :) just wanted to let you know

A smile dawns upon his face. 

suhyeok: 

(01:06) glad to be of service ;) 

(01:06) i guess boyfriends are there to provide a source of comfort

cheongsan: 

(01:06) lol yeah, absolutely.

(01:07) starting to think it wasn’t such a bad idea agreeing to fake date you. it definitely comes with its perks :p

suhyeok: 

(01:07) you’re getting more out of this than i am, aren’t you?

cheongsan: 

(01:08) hmm, idk about that. i think i’ve been playing my part pretty well, you know? 

(01:09) anyway, i’m going to try and go back to sleep

suhyeok: 

(01:09) ok :)

(01:10) g’night, love

Suhyeok freezes. His stupid fingers slipped. 

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s chaos in his head right now, and thinking straight is the last of his abilities. There’s more typing on Cheongsan’s end, pauses in between. Suhyeok’s typing up an apology and erasing each one of them because none of them sound sincere enough (because the thing is, he's not apologising because he's truly sorry, but because he doesn't want to scare Cheongsan away), when Cheongsan’s message comes through, stopping his fingers in their tapping frenzy. 

cheongsan: 

(01:11) ha, try not thinking about me too much

There’s more typing, then—

cheongsan: 

(01:11) sweet dreams about me <3

As per the second last message, Suhyeok does the exact opposite of that. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in a year,” Gyeongsu comments, eyeing him amusedly from across the room, sitting on top of his large, white beanbag. 

Suhyeok sighs, leaning against the end of the bed. “Yeah, I’ve slept really poorly for the past week and a half,” he murmurs, eyes sliding closed. He stifles a yawn behind his hand.

Cheongsan had text Suhyeok, saying he’s going to be a little late. Same case with Namra and Onjo, except Namra had text the group chat instead. Something about the fact that Cheongsan had specifically text him and no one else about it is enough to elicit an almost childlike glee within him, the feeling settling snugly behind his sternum. Sure, he probably expects Suhyeok to pass on the message to the others but that doesn’t negate the fact that he was thinking about him at that very moment. He could have text Gyeongsu about it, or even Onjo, but he chose to text Suhyeok. That must mean something , right? (And there he goes, putting meaning into things that aren’t that big of a deal.)

“Is it because of Cheongsan?”

Suhyeok cracks his eyes open and looks over at him. “No,” he says, too quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Gyeongsu casts him a look of suspicion. “Right, if you say so,” he mumbles, shifting around to face him properly. “Speaking of which, how are you and Cheongsan going?”

“Hm?” 

“You know,” Gyeongsu says, a cheeky grin crossing his lips, “how’s he as a boyfriend?”

“Fake boyfriend,” Suhyeok corrects. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, then lets it fall into his lap, fingers linking together. “He’s great. I enjoy spending my time with him.” He smiles a little, pulling his knees up to his chest. “He’s so— he’s free spirited, y’know? He’s… He’s hardheaded, and sometimes a little mean, but never in an ‘I hate you’ kind of way. He can be the biggest menace out there, though. And also a little idiotic, which makes him all the more endearing.” He lets out a soft huff of laughter. 

“He’s also such a messy eater. So messy, always getting crumbs on the corners of his mouth, grease on his lips. Do you know how many times I’ve had to resist the urge to just…” he trails off with words unsaid, eyes sliding closed; the back of his head meets the edge of the mattress with a muffled thump. “And his hands are so warm; they fit so… Perfectly, with mine. In mine. And he’s just so… He’s so warm, figuratively and literally. And oh.” He sighs. His smile is still on his lips, in his voice, a warm feeling stirring within him; tired, but content. 

“The crinkles by the corners of his eyes and the dimple on his left cheek when he smiles that smile; when he scrunches his nose when you tell a joke he doesn’t find funny, or in disgust, or in confusion; his laughter — he laughs like no one’s around, like he doesn’t care. He’s proud of who he is, and as he should be, y’know?

“And my god, he’s just so fucking cute, but he doesn’t seem to think that’s the case whenever I tell him so. He’s always such an argumentative little shit, but still just so, so lovely, in so many ways.” He pauses, gaze shifting towards the ceiling. “I just… I really like being around him, you know? I like being by his side. Even though he can be trouble sometimes, I just— life without him would be dull.” 

There’s a beat of silence, until Gyeongsu speaks up, words ringing loud and clear in the air. “Well, someone’s crushing, and they’re crushing hard.”

Suhyeok whips his head over to him. “Excuse me?”

“Call me stupid, but it sounds suspiciously like you’re in love.”

“I’m not— I’m not in love,” Suhyeok denies. “I just… Appreciate him, that’s all. As a friend. As a friend.” There goes that inexplicable pang in his chest. It sounds like he’s convincing himself more than anyone else. 

Gyeongsu hums, looking all comfortable on his beanbag and all. “I’m not here talk you out of your adamant beliefs, but if I took a photo of you just then, with you waxing poetics about him, you’d agree with me. If that’s not what being in love looks like and sounds like, then I was clearly lied to my whole life.” 

Suhyeok opens his mouth to speak; perhaps to protest and to defend himself when his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He fishes it out and opens it, and sees the group chat’s name on his screen, with Cheongsan’s name underneath. 

cheongsan: 

(18:21) gyeongsu, open the door

Suhyeok looks over at Gyeongsu and sees him grinning a little at his phone. His phone buzzes again, grabbing his attention.

gyeongsu: 

(18:21) nah, currently having a heart to heart with your fake boyfriend

(18:22) and you’re not allowed to join <3

cheongsan: 

(18:22) it’s cold out here and i’m about to freeze to death

(18:22) so i’m not in the mood for jokes

(18:24) namra and onjo are with me and they are not happy with how cold it is so please, for the love of god, if you don’t want to face the wrath of the three of us :)))

gyeongsu: 

(18:25) oh no i’m soooo scared

(18:25) coming

When Gyeongsu doesn’t move and instead looks over at him expectantly, Suhyeok exhales loudly. “You’re a nuisance,” he says as he gets up.

Gyeongsu clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Nah, I’m just trying to help a brother out here.”

He makes his way to the front door, hand paused around the knob, thinking back to the conversation just mere minutes ago. He dares to wonder, without reservations, the age old question: Am I in love? Shaking his head to rid of the thought and taking a deep breath in, he twists the door open.

There, Cheongsan stands, scarf wrapped around his neck, shoulders bunched up as he hugs himself. Suhyeok notices how snuggly he looks, and swallows down the urge to wrap him up in his arms. “Holy shit, dude,” Cheongsan greets, quickly stepping over the threshold and into the warmed up living room. Namra and Onjo spill in, arms linked, pushing past them. They make a beeline for Gyeongsu’s room, leaving Suhyeok and Cheongsan out there, complaints on the tip of their tongues about how cold it is outside. 

“It’s fucking cold out there.” He shivers slightly, giving Suhyeok a pointed look. “What were you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing much,” Suhyeok answers as he closes the door. “Just… Complaining about how university is such a shit show.” 

“Not as much of a shit show as it was in high school,” Cheongsan says, lingering at the doorway instead of making a move towards Gyeongsu’s bedroom. They grow quiet for a bit; Cheongsan’s staring up at him, with the same look he had on that particular night before… Before— 

“Let’s go. They’re probably waiting for us, wondering what the hell we’re doing out here for so long,” Cheongsan says, breaking the silence between them. 

“Yeah,” Suhyeok says, glancing down at his feet. “Let’s go.” 

—

Whatever movie Gyeongsu had pirated from the internet, Suhyeok couldn’t give less of a shit about. He’s in his own head, wrapped up in his messy thoughts. He feels a touch on his arm, the gentle curl of fingers around his bicep; he looks sideways and sees Cheongsan looking up at him with scrunched brows, the screen illuminating his side profile. For a second, his eyes flicker down to his lips, then quickly flickers back up to meet his eyes; he’s not about to get caught red-handed staring at something he shouldn’t be staring at in the first place. 

“You’ve been in a daze for half of the movie; is everything alright?” 

Suhyeok takes a quick glance around; the other three sit in front of them, watching the movie intently. Gyeongsu lets out a gasp; Onjo lets out a sigh. Namra giggles softly, leaning on Onjo. His eyes draw back to Cheongsan, who’s still staring at him, visible worry lining his features, as if nothing else but him being okay matters. “I’m fine. Just… Tired?” he half-lies. 

“You keep saying you’re tired whenever I ask if you’re okay,” Cheongsan points out.

“I just haven’t been able to sleep well these days,” Suhyeok says.

They’re speaking in hushed voices, as if they were in a real movie theatre (Suhyeok would rather be loud at a movie theatre than here, because he vividly remembers when Gyeongsu nearly threw a drink at him because he talked too loudly during one of their movie nights. That was traumatising, but Cheongsan’s laughter made it just a little less traumatising).

Cheongsan’s fingers tighten around his arm. “Tell me the truth. Is something going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Then why aren’t you able to sleep?” He’s genuinely worried, and Suhyeok feels bad because he can’t tell him the exact reason. 

Yeah, you’re the reason I can’t sleep. Yeah, no. That’s not happening. Instead, he says, “Because… I had — have — a lot on my mind.” His answer is a bit obscure, but that’s the intended purpose. Gyeongsu’s earlier words of speculation make his face flush, and he hopes Cheongsan doesn’t notice it. “Like, a lot. You wouldn’t understand.”

The sudden sound of gunshots resonate in the background, which makes Cheongsan jump a little. This elicits soft laughter from Suhyeok; he has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing loudly, afraid Gyeongsu will attack him with the bowl of microwaved popcorn he's currently hugging to his chest and snacking on. 

“Stop laughing at me,” Cheongsan hisses, leaning into Suhyeok and lightly pinching his side.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat,” Suhyeok teases softly, amusement in his voice. He moves a hand up on instinct, touching Cheongsan’s cheek; fully cups it with the palm of his hand. He hears the distinct hitch of Cheongsan’s breath on the inhale; feels the way he leans in even closer. 

Cheongsan’s hand comes up, touching his chest gingerly, fingers eventually sinking into soft fabric, pulling him close; closer. 

His stomach dips as Cheongsan’s lips hover near his own. Only an inch, and their lips would touch. 

…Only less than an inch now, and his curiousity would be sated. 

“Oh my god, I can’t fucking believe this!” Gyeongsu cries out in anger. “They killed my boy! What the hell?!” 

Startled once again, this time by Gyeongsu’s loud voice, Cheongsan makes to pull away from him on instinct, but Suhyeok quickly stops him by wrapping a hand around his wrist; tugs him closer, pressing their lips together. For a second, Suhyeok thinks Cheongsan’s going to push him away, but then he’s tentatively kissing him back, fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt and his other hand coming to a rest on his shoulder. It’s like he’s contemplating on pushing him away, but he also doesn’t want to push him away… So he doesn’t. It’s not what Suhyeok had imagined, not even close, but he doesn’t mind, because Cheongsan’s lips are soft against his, and his own arm has somehow wound its way around Cheongsan’s waist, pulling him in closer. His mind is a haze, and all he can think about is the other boy who’s currently kissing him breathless. He’s deepening the kiss, completely ready to cave in, when Cheongsan pushes him away mid-kiss, eyes wide as he stares at Suhyeok, as if he’s just realised what they were just doing. His fingers are no longer sunken into the front of his shirt in a tight grip, hand no longer on his shoulder, lips no longer on his. The warmth dissipates quickly, leaving Suhyeok feeling cold. Blood rushes in Suhyeok’s ears, heart thundering loudly in his chest. The chatters of their friends are faint, akin to white noises in the background, and couldn’t trump the noises going on internally. He glances towards them and sees them talking, but he can’t really hear them all that well, his focus on Cheongsan. His heart sinks when Cheongsan backs away from him, and he becomes painfully aware of how he might have just fucked things up tremendously. 

“I… I’ll be right back,” Cheongsan mutters to no one in particular, and quickly ups and leaves the room before Suhyeok could grab a hold of him. 

Suhyeok doesn’t go after him, still in a daze over what happened, the feeling of Cheongsan’s lips pressed against his burnt into his memory. 

When Cheongsan comes back, he takes a seat next to Gyeongsu, never once sparing a glance in Suhyeok’s direction. Gyeongsu asks him questions, but he doesn’t answer him; only shushes him, telling him to focus on the movie. 

And, well, if this is what rejection is supposed to feel like, then Suhyeok wouldn’t have kissed him in the first place — not that Cheongsan’s rejecting him for anything in particular, really, but it certainly feels that way. 

—

“We need to pick better movies next time; some people weren’t really paying attention the throughout the entire thing,” Namra suggests as they stand outside the streets, bunched up in their many layers of clothing. The glance she sends Suhyeok’s way is enough for him to know who exactly she’s talking about. 

Suhyeok glances at Cheongsan yet again, hoping for a sign; for anything. But he doesn’t get anything — not even a glance back. 

“Weren’t you guys busy snuggling and talking to each other? Saw it with my own two eyes,” Cheongsan says. He’s standing next to Gyeongsu, furthest away from Suhyeok.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Suhyeok scowls, looking down at his shoes. 

“That’s not true,” Onjo says, even as she’s clinging onto Namra. “We were just… Doing what couples usually do?” 

Namra snickers. “You’re so bad at this,” she says, a tender lilt to her voice. 

“Shush,” Onjo mumbles, resting her cheek on her shoulder. 

“Throw your suggestions in the group chat and we’ll pick based on those suggestions for next week,” Gyeongsu says. “Now hurry home. I don’t want to take the blame if you guys catch a cold. Message the chat when you get home safely.”

“Yes, sir,” Onjo says, saluting him. 

Namra laughs, leaning in to press a kiss against her cheek. She pulls away to whisper something in her ear, and Onjo laughs softly in an abashed manner, a rosy pink colouring her cheeks. (It's definitely not because of the cold, Suhyeok thinks in bitter amusement as he tries to catch Cheongsan's eyes again.) Bidding their farewells, they leave, hand in hand. 

“Are you guys walking home together?” 

Suhyeok glances at Cheongsan, who says, “I think I’m good. I’ll be fine getting home myself.” 

Gyeongsu looks over at Suhyeok. “And you’re just going to let your boyfriend walk home by himself?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“You need to stop calling us boyfriends, because we’re not actually boyfriends,” Cheongsan mumbles. “Anyway, I’m going to… Go. See you.” He turns on his heels and walks away, while Suhyeok stares after him, helplessly.

“Are you not going to go after him?” Gyeongsu questions, raising a brow at him.

“I—”

“Go,” Gyeongsu says, waving for him to follow Cheongsan. Something about his tone and the look on his face gives Suhyeok the impression that he might be aware of what happened between him and Cheongsan a mere hour ago. He doesn’t dwell on that thought, though, because he gives a quick nod to Gyeongsu before setting off after Cheongsan. 

He’s not too far off when he catches up, his long legs proving to be advantageous for once. “Wait,” he says, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him to a halt. He feels Cheongsan tensing under his grip. “Can we please talk?” he asks, voice hoarse. 

Cheongsan doesn’t turn around to look at him. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?” 

“Can we talk face to face?” When Cheongsan doesn’t make a move to turn around, Suhyeok lets out a sigh and steps in front of him. “Cheongsan,” he urges, voice soft. “I’m sorry for kissing you like that,” he says, swallowing heavily. “It’s just… After the near miss we had that night, I kept thinking about how it would be like to— to kiss you, like that. Like how we did back there. I guess my curiousity got the better of me tonight because you were just there. Not that I’m saying it’s an excuse for me to just—”

“Do you… Regret it?” 

Suhyeok stops short. “What?” 

Cheongsan finally looks up, locking eyes with him. “Do you regret kissing me?” 

“Of course not,” Suhyeok breathes out in a rush, “because I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long now and I—”

“Oh, thank god,” Cheongsan mumbles, breathing out a huge sigh of what seems to be relief. “I got all worried, and over nothing, too.”

Suhyeok blinks down at him, dumbfounded. “Am I missing something here?”

“I’m kind of glad I wasn’t the only one who kept thinking about that almost kiss,” Cheongsan says, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly as his eyes flitter away from Suhyeok, cheeks turning pink. “I thought I was the only one losing sleep over it.” 

“But… But you acted like it didn’t happen.” He clears his throat, rocking back onto his heels. "Not that anything did happen. But you know what I mean."  

“Have you heard of coping mechanisms?” Cheongsan questions, throwing him an abashed look. “Acting like it did not affect me kept me sane, you know? I kept thinking about the what ifs, and the could haves, and they kind of got to me. It’s why I kind of… Ignored your messages after that night. So, you know, I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength, because god help me if we weren’t. It would have been so embarrassing.”

Suhyeok stares at him, the knot in his stomach loosening.  

Oh?

He takes a step closer to Cheongsan; tilts his chin up with his fingers. “My god,” Suhyeok says, cupping his cheek with his other hand. “Why are we so incredibly stupid?” 

“I don’t know, maybe because we have a combination of only one working brain cell?” Cheongsan offers, wrapping his arms around Suhyeok’s neck, loosely. 

Suhyeok grins, feeling the weight lift off of his shoulders. “So, fuck the second condition, right?” he asks. “Because that shit is an abomination to mankind and if I don’t get to kiss you again without you pulling away mid-kiss, then I might actually combust.” 

“God, just say you can’t get enough of me and go,” teases Cheongsan; he’s leaning in so close, Suhyeok could feel his warm breath on his cheeks and lips, and it’s hard to resist. 

It’s so fucking hard, so he’s not sure how he was able to resist until tonight.

“So can I kiss you?” Suhyeok asks for good measure, wrapping an arm around Cheongsan’s waist. “Because I really want to.”

“Just do it, you dork, before I change my mind,” Cheongsan murmurs.

That’s enough permission for Suhyeok to claim Cheongsan’s lips in a sweet, sweet kiss. Cheongsan kisses him back like he’s been wanting to do this for a while now, the tentativeness from their first kiss gone and replaced with newfound confidence. It’s everything and more, and maybe Suhyeok’s enjoying this a little too much, considering this is his fake boyfriend he swears he doesn’t have an ounce of feelings for. 

Feelings, huh?

He kisses Cheongsan harder, pulls him in closer by the waist, shutting the voice down in his head entirely; gets himself lost in the feeling of Cheongsan pressed against him instead. He’s hyperaware of Cheongsan’s lips moving against his own; of the way his breath brushes against his cheeks when he pulls away; of the way he chases after his lips for a second kiss just seconds after the first; of the way he tastes sweet, courtesy of the caramel popcorn he had snacked on earlier. He’s so sure if anyone is near them in the current moment, they’d hear his heart beating like a drum against his chest. 

When they pull away, Cheongsan’s laughing a little, soft breath on his lips, still clinging tightly to him like he doesn’t want to let go; Suhyeok’s heart does a happy little dance in his chest. It’s such a tender moment, too, which makes him wonder what it would be like if this was real. Goddamn that part of him which wants this to be real, so fucking badly. “That wasn’t too bad for a first or a second,” Cheongsan says, sounding more winded than he looks, separating fully from Suhyeok. His lips are a redder shade than usual, a temporary reminder of Suhyeok kissing him like nothing else in the world matters, and his cheeks are still a bit pink. That's definitely not from the cold. 

“Did the kiss back in Gyeongsu’s room not count?”

“No, because we barely kissed before I rushed out of the room to dry heave, because I thought I fucked up.” 

Suhyeok chuckles. “Well, I think we could get there with a bit more practice,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to the very corner of his lips. 

“Mm,” Cheongsan hums his agreement, slipping his hand into Suhyeok’s. “Let’s go home.” 

Suhyeok nods, curiousity happily sated, feeling warm and cozy from head to toe despite the night chill. “Yeah,” he agrees, squeezing Cheongsan’s hand; he ignores the urge to reel him in for another kiss because that would mean they’d be staying out on the streets for much longer than necessary. As much as he likes having Cheongsan’s lips on his, he prefers not catching a cold because of his newfound addiction. “Let’s go.” 

There are many problems in the world, and one of them includes the fact that Suhyeok’s more than just a little hooked, now that he’s gotten a taste.

He’d like to think that’s the case for Cheongsan, too.

So, it’s only natural that they’ve kissed several more times after that. In the empty hallways on campus, on the streets when there’s no people around (literally not a single soul), in both of their bedrooms. It’s like this is their little secret that the outside world has no business in knowing or witnessing. 

A little secret he’s not so sure is part of their bigger act anymore. 

Heat rises up from Suhyeok’s neck to his cheeks, to the very tips of his ears as he recalls the one time they made out in Cheongsan’s bed (it was their third kiss, they were watching some random sitcom; Suhyeok had initiated this one because he wanted to feel Cheongsan’s lips against his again), instead of studying.

Suhyeok remembers, in vivid details, how he had roughly pulled Cheongsan onto his lap, hands slipping under his shirt, hot palms laying flat on his bare skin, lips trailing from his lips down to his neck. Soft noises of bliss slipped past Cheongsan’s swollen lips, and the way in which Suhyeok’s name slipped past his lips… Oh, god. Things did get a bit heated and Suhyeok was (and still is) pretty sure it would have gone just slightly further if Cheongsan hadn’t pulled away and whispered something about how they should stop, breath hot on his lips, a wild look in his eyes; it made Suhyeok think, for a fleeting second, that he didn’t want it stop, despite their seventh condition. The worst thing about that was, neither did he. He didn’t want it to stop, wanted to keep going, wanted Cheongsan to mess with his head and his heart and was willing to just give in if Cheongsan hadn’t intervened. He had never seen him like that before, but it was… Something. 

(It fucked him up, in a good way, and left him restless and sleepless that night.) 

Now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t stop thinking about it, and a part of him wants to do that again and again. Wonders what it would have been like if they didn’t stop. 

And then there were several more times after that, too, some soft, some rough, some slow, some sweet, some… Some with emotions he can’t quite place (or more like emotions he’s not sure he wants to place, because he knows once he puts meaning into them, it’s going to screw with his head even more and he’d really rather not deal with that right now). Cheongsan’s usually the one initiating the kisses, but they never really talk about it afterwards, because Cheongsan never really seemed willing. Not that they have to, but it’s just… Fake dating doesn’t involve kisses like that, right? Kisses that seem to mean something (or maybe he’s the only one putting meaning into things that shouldn’t have meaning put into them in the first place). To add to that, it doesn’t involve lingering touches and intimacy like that; doesn’t involve hands fitting together in the dark, palm pressed against palm, lips against lips; doesn’t involve erratic heartbeats and butterflies in the stomach.

So he ends up having to tell someone about this before he combusts, since it’s unlikely Cheongsan would want to talk to him about the likely case that there might be something more going on here.

“You did what?” Gyeongsu questions loudly; this earns the curious attention of the other people at the nearby tables, and Suhyeok has to tell him to lower his voice. “You guys kissed?” 

“I mean, we’ve, uh, made out several times after that night…”

“Are you fucking with me right now or what?” Gyeongsu questions, voice growing louder by a notch; it’s like he’s doing this on purpose to embarrass Suhyeok. If that’s the case, then he’s succeeded with flying colours. 

“Jesus,” Suhyeok hisses. “Can you keep your voice down for a second? You’re embarrassing me.” He sighs, leaning back into his seat. “And I mean— it was bound to happen.”

“Not when it’s fake as fuck,” Gyeongsu says, snorting loudly. Suhyeok gives up on telling him to use his inside voice. “Plus, that’s bullshit, because there wasn’t an audience for you guys to show your A-class acting skills to. Especially not when you were alone in your bedroom with him.” 

Gyeongsu has a point there, and Suhyeok’s not so sure he likes that. He thinks back to the other kisses they shared, none of them happening in front of said “audience”. He shifts in his seat, an uneasiness clouding his head. “When you put it that way, it makes it sound so bad.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It just feels like you guys are veering way off the faking it territory.” He sips on his apple juice. “Which is fine, but like… Are you okay with that? Because shit’s getting real.” 

Suhyeok remains silent for a bit, pensive. “Oh god,” he groans, head falling into his hands. “I’m so fucked,” he says, voice muffled into his palms. 

“Or maybe you could tell him how you feel?” Gyeongsu suggests. “And then tell him you want something real with him?” 

Suhyeok looks him dead in the eyes as he says, “There’s nothing to tell him.” It feels wrong to say that — it sounds like a lie to his own ears. 

Gyeongsu breathes out a long-suffering sigh, leaning back into his seat. “You deserve to suffer then, good sir.” 

One of their date night ends up with them staying in Suhyeok’s room, with Suhyeok trying to get his assignment done last minute. Because he’s an idiot, and it had completely slipped his mind that the assignment was due the next day at nine in the morning. 

“You’re an idiot,” Cheongsan says, eating the home-made sushi Suhyeok’s mum had brought into his room for them. “How can you forget about your assignment due date?”

“Because I’ve been distracted by way too many things and that was the last thing on my mind,” Suhyeok grumps, fingers flying over his keyboard. He doesn’t tell him the reason, doesn’t say what’s really on his mind: it’s because of you, you idiot. “I’m literally going to fail this subject and my boyfriend is sitting there laughing at me,” he mumbles. “Lovely. Absolutely amazing. Spectacular. Ever supportive guy that you are, huh?” 

“I told you I’d help you, but you declined my kind offer,” Cheongsan points out.

“That would be academic misconduct. You know that, Cheongsan,” Suhyeok answers without turning to look at him. 

“A stickler for the rules, huh? Never knew you would turn out to be that type of person,” Cheongsan says, then adds, “Then why am I here again, if not here to help?”

“Because we’ll be going out for a late night date once I’m done with this.”

“I feel like you won’t get that finished until right before tomorrow’s due time. You’re kind of slow with your research. You might have to pull an all-nighter for this.” 

“Shut up, stop trying to jinx me,” Suhyeok whines.

A pause, then the sound of the bed creaking, a weight lifting off from it. “I can go home if I’m distracting you.”

Suhyeok’s fingers pause, hovering above his keyboard; he spins around in his seat to look at Cheongsan. “Don’t go,” he says, then he quickly covers his desperation with, “You’re kind of my only moral support right now, so you can’t just up and leave like that. That would be irresponsible of you.”

“Suhyeok—”

“I just… I like having you around, okay?” He exhales, softly. “And unless you have something urgent to attend to, can’t you just stay for a little longer?” For me, he doesn’t add. Because even that sounds a little too desperate for his own liking. 

Cheongsan considers him for a moment before he sighs, plopping back down onto his bed. “Well, if I fall asleep, then don’t wake me up, okay? Or I’ll reflex kick you.”

Suhyeok grins lightly. “Sure, whatever. Make yourself at home.” 

Like you’ve made yourself at home in both my head and my heart, he thinks, completely unprovoked. 

—

When Suhyeok cranes his neck and sees Cheongsan still up and on his phone, he wonders how the hell he’s been able to remain so quiet for the past hours. He glances at the time on his screen and sees that it’s way past midnight, so the late night date is off the books — because what exactly are they going to do? Wander the lamplit streets, hand in hand, with nothing else to do? There’s not much of a point. “You’re still up?” he asks, shutting his laptop down, then whirls around in his chair to face the other boy. 

Cheongsan tilts his head up to look up at him, a warm smile decorating his lips when their eyes meet somewhere in the middle. Suhyeok’s heart thumps harder against his chest, nostrils flaring as he sharply inhales through his nose. “You were typing very loudly; practically trying to ruin your keyboard, so I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“And you were as quiet as a ghost; so quiet I thought you’d fallen asleep. Which is a start, because you’re usually not this quiet.” He pauses. “Did you tell your parents you’ll be staying over? Because it’s getting quite late.” And I don’t want you to leave, either, he thinks.

“Of course.” He scratches the nape of his neck, sheepishly. “But I, uh, kind of had to lie. I text my mum earlier on; told her I’d be staying at Gyeongsu’s place. She’s… Weary of us being in the same room, alone, ever since she found out about us ‘dating’ through your mum.”

Suhyeok flinches. Oh yeah, so that happened. He didn’t think his mum would snitch on them like this; they weren’t planning on letting Cheongsan’s parents know. “I’m sorry. I should have known she would have told them about us.” 

Cheongsan shakes his head. “It’s fine. What’s done is done. And plus, I don’t mind them knowing. I mean, it’s not like this is real or anything.” Usually, him claiming such, in such a casual manner too, doesn’t bother Suhyeok much, because it’s not like he’s wrong. But this time, it sucks just a little to hear that. (Fucking lies; it sucks a lot. He wishes it didn't bother him so much.) Cheongsan makes a sound, discarding his phone to the side, arms outstretched. 

“What?” Suhyeok questions, eyeing him with raised brows.

“Come,” Cheongsan only says, beckoning him over. Suhyeok sighs. He knows exactly where this is going, and he probably should go take a shower and retire to bed instead of giving in like he always does, but he can’t help himself.

So he gives in, just this once more.

(As always, he promises himself he won’t give in next time, but he never ends up keeping those promises. He wouldn’t be here if he was able to keep them.)

He gets off the chair and climbs onto the bed, crawling into Cheongsan’s outstretched arms. With a tired sigh, he hugs him around the middle and nuzzles his face on the crook of his neck, smiling a little when Cheongsan weaves his fingers through his hair. “So comfortable,” he mumbles into his skin; he smells of the fresh cucumber wash Suhyeok’s seen him picking up at the supermarket and some fragrant, soft scented laundry detergent, and Suhyeok buries his face deeper on the very crook of Cheongsan’s neck. He’s admittedly addicted. He could probably fall asleep right then and there, but it wouldn’t be right for him to do so while Cheongsan’s still holding him steady in his arms. 

“What are you doing?” Cheongsan asks, laughingly.

“You just smell so nice,” Suhyeok answers. “Like, not to be creepy or anything but you smell like… Comfort?” Cheongsan massages his scalp with his fingers, gently, and Suhyeok kind of wishes this is what he could fall asleep to every night. He lifts his head up to look at Cheongsan. “Did that sound weird?” he asks, brows furrowed. 

Cheongsan bobs his head, a playful grin on his lips. “A little?”

A groan leaves Suhyeok’s lips as he re-buries his face on Cheongsan’s neck again. “Oh my god, why am I so fucking embarrassing?” he whines into his neck. 

“You’re always embarrassing, Suhyeok-ah,” Cheongsan teases, an undeniably affectionate lilt to his voice as Suhyeok’s name rolls off of his tongue, so easily, like melted butter. Suhyeok’s heart skips a beat, head swimming. He squeezes Cheongsan, holds him just a little tighter, but not tight enough for it to mean much; not tight enough for either of them to read into it; not tight enough for his own sanity.

“Call me that again.”

“What?” 

Suhyeok looks up at Cheongsan again. “Say my name like that again. Please.”

Obviously confused and also very clueless, he says, “Suhyeok-ah?” 

“Again.”

“Suhyeok-ah.” 

“Again.”

“Su— okay, no, what the hell is happening right now and why are you making me repeat—” Suhyeok interrupts him with a kiss; he lingers for no more than a second, and when he pulls away, Cheongsan’s gazing at him, a hint of a pleasantly surprised smile etched on his curved up lips. “What was that?” 

“You saying my name like that makes me want to kiss you,” Suhyeok says, voice low, leaning forward to capture his lips again. Cheongsan hums against his lips, hands coming up to cradle his face, and Suhyeok finds himself melting, melting, melting into his touch. 

(Falling, falling, falling.)

When they pull away, Cheongsan sinks into him, arms returning to wrap around his middle, resting his head on his chest in content. Suhyeok, on the other hand, swallows thickly, eyes sliding closed. His heart’s punching various holes into his chest, finding a way to escape, as he absentmindedly cards his fingers through Cheongsan’s locks, returning the earlier favour of him massaging his scalp in his oh-so gentle way. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, god, I’m fucked in every way possible.

Because there’s no denying it now, is there? 

Gyeongsu's right, that annoying turd.

He’s more than just a little in love.

—

Okay, so here’s the thing: he’s had his fair share of crushes before, but it was never like this; it was never this intense. It was never him wanting more; needing more, but now it is. He has, undeniably, never felt this much for someone before, but that might be due to his lack of “experience” in actually liking someone in a way that doesn't feel like infatuation or merely crushing on someone. In other words, this is probably the first time he’s liked someone like this. You can say he’s formed an emotional attachment after all the kisses they have shared but he personally has it in his head that he’s had feelings for his “boyfriend” for quite a while now, stretching long before he asked Cheongsan to fake date him. He just never really realised that until now, but it kind of explains why he is the way he is around Cheongsan. It all makes sense, which is probably the scariest part of it all. 

So when he wakes up the next morning with barely any sleep at all — having stayed up all night trying to rearrange the thoughts in his head into something more coherent — with Cheongsan all snuggled up in his arms, their legs tangled under the sheets, he kind of just gazes at the boy, and for the umpteenth time, wonders what it would be like if this was real. He doesn’t stop himself this time, letting his thoughts run wild, only to end up wishing he hadn’t because now he’s craving for something pretty much impossible. This is as close as he can get to it being real, so he’ll take what he can get.  

He feels Cheongsan stir in his arms, and he quickly draws his eyes shut. There’s a bit of shuffling, a rearrangement of limbs, before Cheongsan’s gentle voice fills his ears. “Suhyeok-ah? You awake?”  

And there goes his heart, doing Olympics gymnastic-worthy leaps in his chest. He makes a noise at the back of his throat, cracking his eyes open. “I am now,” he says, voice soft, like his heart isn’t threatening to leap out of his throat. 

“I should go home,” Cheongsan says. He doesn’t move though, not an inch, and Suhyeok chuckles internally. 

“Doesn’t sound like you want to go home,” he says, lightly, squeezing around Cheongsan. “I don’t want you going home, either.” His heart dives into his stomach as the words slip out of his mouth without restraint. Oh dear lord, why did he say that? 

“What time is it now? I promised my mum I’ll be home by noon,” Cheongsan says, sinking his fingers into the front of Suhyeok’s hoodie, completely unaware of the internal struggle Suhyeok’s going through (which is just as well). “But it’s true — I don’t want to go home. Not yet, at least.” 

Suhyeok chuckles, carding his fingers through Cheongsan’s hair. “Huh. Considering how you’re usually kind of mean to me, you acting so clingy and soft is a welcome change. I should wake up to you like this more often.”

Cheongsan tilts his head up to look at him. “I’m not that mean to you,” he argues, without conviction. 

“Mm, we’ll agree to disagree,” Suhyeok says, grinning softly. He tries to go in for another kiss, even though he knows he shouldn’t be doing this — he shouldn’t make a habit out of reaching for Cheongsan whenever he can, because he’s only going to fuck himself over even more — when Cheongsan quickly places a hand over his mouth. 

“No kissing until we brush our teeth,” he says, wriggling out of Suhyeok’s arms. He sits up, taking a look at the clock on Suhyeok’s nightstand; his eyes widen in slight panic. “Oh god, it’s nearly noon. I should probably get going.” He gives Suhyeok a pointed look. “I don’t think your parents know I’ve stayed the night, do they?” 

Suhyeok slowly shakes his head, sitting up as well. 

Oh, shit. Yeah. They don’t.

“They probably think you’ve left.” 

“So… Do I have to sneak out through the window or what?”

“I don’t want you falling to your death,” Suhyeok says. “We’ll sneak you out the front door. We should be fine.”

Cheongsan narrows his eyes at him. “I’m quoting you on that.” 

(He does get out, without Suhyeok’s parents noticing, so thank fuck for that, but he doesn’t leave before risking a kiss to Suhyeok’s cheek, which Suhyeok was more than okay with.) 

It’s weird at first, acting like he doesn’t harbour these fucktonne of feelings for Cheongsan. Pretending to not have feelings for his fake boyfriend, and then acting like everything is completely fine and that he’s totally not having some weird internal crisis on an almost daily basis does get slightly easier with each passing day. 

(He really could have lived without being aware of his own feelings, in all honesty, because it’s such a fucking drag.)

That doesn’t make it suck less, though, having his latest revelation hang over his head wherever he goes. He tries not to think about it, but the more he tries not to, the more he thinks about it, so he ends up just letting it be. Lets it sit at the back of his mind; lets it occupy a small part of him, till it eventually festers and eats at him. It’s made a bit easier when mid-terms come trucking along, bringing him more things to focus on; bringing him a distraction, an excuse for him to not use up all of his free time to make-out with Cheongsan in a very platonic way whenever possible, feelings only growing every time Cheongsan smiles at him afterwards. Date nights and movie nights are postponed, and are replaced with study sessions instead, and it’s fine for a while, until mid-terms finish and things get just a little (a lot) harder again; until Suhyeok has to put his acting skills into use again, which has slowly rusted away in the two weeks he didn’t have to keep this shit up. 

“Did we not watch a pirated movie last night with the others?” Cheongsan questions as they stand in line to get movie tickets. 

“Difference is, this isn’t pirated, and it’s shown in a legit theatre, and it’s the premiere.”

“Okay, and?”

“And it’s our first date night since our postponement during mid-terms.” Something in Suhyeok stirs as he says that. Date. Oh, how lovely would it be if this was real. 

There’s a moment of silence as they shuffle along towards the front of the line, when Cheongsan speaks up. “Y’know. I’m surprised our parents aren’t suspicious of us yet.”

“Of us what?”

“Of us fake dating.” There’s a slight pause. “Guess we’re… Pretty good at pretending, huh? I mean, our parents remain fooled, and then there’s a whole lot of other people as well who have no clue.” 

“Yeah, we are pretty good actors,” he says, feigning a laugh. Except he’s not faking it at this point, which is the ironic part. 

They get their tickets at the counter, squabbling over who should pay until the staff behind the register tells them to rock, paper and scissor it out. 

Cheongsan wins, and he ends up paying for the tickets, as well as the popcorn and drinks.

“I thought you said you wanted me paying for our dates. What’s with the sudden change of attitude?” Suhyeok asks as they make their way to the cinema they’ve been allocated to. 

“I had a change of heart,” Cheongsan says, tugging him down the dimly lit aisle until they find their seats. “Feels unfair that I keep making you pay. I mean, what if you use that against me one day? We can’t have that happening.”

“Wow, so that’s why you decided to chip in now?” Suhyeok says, in a playfully mocking tone. “How honourable of you, Cheongsan-ah,” he teases.

“I’m trying to be a good boyfriend for once, and I’d like some appreciation for that,” Cheongsan defends as they take a seat.

“You don’t have to do anything because you’re a great enough of a boyfriend as it is, you know?” Suhyeok says, earnestly, with honest affection. It takes him about a few seconds before he realises what he had let slip. “What I mean is,” he tries to backtrack, “you’re great, and whoever gets to date you for real would be very lucky—”

“Why are you explaining yourself?” Cheongsan interrupts, lifting a curious brow at him. “I think I get it. I’m brighter than you think.” He squeezes around Suhyeok’s hand in what Suhyeok could only assume as reassurance; it’s not reassuring at all, and it makes him want to spill his guts, tell him fucking everything. Except he's nothing but a coward, which is the problem here. 

“Sweetheart, you talk yourself up way too much.”

“Condition number one.” 

Suhyeok groans. “Oh my god, fuck those conditions. We’ve literally made out way too many times to count and you’re out here being conservative about pet names?”

“Pet names make it feel too real,” Cheongsan mumbles, and before Suhyeok could say something to that, he treads on, “but then again, it’s not like I’d call you babe or anything like that if we were to ever really date.” The words hang heavy in the air between them, with Suhyeok trying to process them properly. He’s not given enough time, because the movie’s starting just as he’s formulating a coherent response and Cheongsan’s dropping his hand like a hot sack of potatoes in favour of grabbing the bucket of popcorn laying abandoned in the empty seat next to him.

Suhyeok spends the rest of the two hours overthinking and accidentally brushing hands against Cheongsan’s, periodically, whenever he tries to make a grab for the popcorn.

—

By the time the movie’s finished, Suhyeok’s overthinking has thoroughly exhausted him. He doesn't even know what the fuck the movie is about, so if Cheongsan asks him for a recount, he’d be screwed. 

“That was shit,” is the first thing out of Cheongsan’s mouth the moment they exit the theatre. “And it’s made shittier because you weren’t paying attention, so whenever I made a joke, you were half-assing your laughs.” 

Oh, so he knows. 

Suhyeok rolls his eyes at his accusatory tone, feeling a stab of guilt because he isn’t exactly wrong about that. “I wasn’t half-assing my laughs. I was just… Thinking. I’m sure your jokes were great, though, the comedian that you are.”

Ignoring him, Cheongsan disposes of the cups and empty bucket, save for the unpopped kernels at the bottom, into a nearby bin. “What were you thinking of so intensely about, anyway? Please enlighten me.”

“…You think we’ll ever date for real?” Suhyeok questions before he can stop himself. 

Cheongsan glances up at him, coming to a halt. “What?” 

Suhyeok slowly turns to look at him. “I mean, what if feelings develop? What then?”

“That’s not happening,” Cheongsan says, after a moment too long, a waver to his voice. 

“But who’s to say that won’t happen?”

“Yeah, no, kissing someone a few times and holding their hand while you go on fake dates won’t make you actually develop feelings for them, Suhyeok. It’s not that simple.”

“Well,” Suhyeok starts, “maybe it is that simple. Or maybe the feelings were there from way before the fake dating started, so whatever happens during the fake dating period only makes things worse.” 

The laugh that comes out of the other boy’s mouth sounds suspiciously nervous. “Are you trying to confess to me right now? In a movie theatre out of all places?” 

There’s the window of opportunity for him to confess, swung right open. He’s decidedly not ready after a moment of contemplation, so he shakes his head and throws him an easy grin. “Nah,” Suhyeok says. “You wish I was. I’m not talking about us. I’m talking hypothetically. It could happen to anyone, and we shouldn’t shut that idea down. I’m just… I’m telling you to be careful.”   

“Uh, what?” Cheongsan questions, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why should I be careful?”

“I don’t know; falling for my charms, maybe? I mean, I won’t blame you if it happens.”

“Ah, right,” Cheongsan drawls out, mockingly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s definitely going to happen. Like, I’m going to fall so hard for you I’m not going to be able to get up. Fuck, you'd better catch me before I end up on the ground.”

“I sense some sarcasm there, and I’m not sure if I like it.”

“Whatever, Suhyeok. You’re a piece of work and whoever gets to date you for real is probably gonna have to deal with your insufferableness. I’m already feeling very sorry for them.”

“Hey!” Suhyeok says, mock offended. “I’ve been nothing but a great boyfriend to you, and this is what you’re going to reduce me down to? Some insufferable guy? Wow.” He clutches a hand to his heart. “That hurts. You’re so cruel for this.”

“I speak nothing but the truth,” Cheongsan says, lips curling up into that precious smile of his.

Suhyeok exhales softly; his hand leaves his chest and instead, cups the side of his neck, drawing him in gently. “Well, remember what I said back there in the theatres?” he asks, voice soft. 

Searching his eyes, Cheongsan answers him with a soft sounding, “Yeah, of course. You tried to explain your way out of it, too.” 

“I meant it. I mean it, because whoever gets to be yours”—he swallows thickly, the tight feeling in his chest returning—“would be one lucky person.” Fuck, I can only wish to be that person. 

“Well,” Cheongsan murmurs, “you’re mine, aren’t you?” There’s no teasing lilt to his voice this time around; it feels more like a statement than anything else, an everyday fact. It sparks unwanted hope within Suhyeok, and he can’t afford to feel like this. He wraps his fingers around Suhyeok’s wrist, grip soft. 

He can’t afford to feel like this, like there’s any hope, because it will only fuck him over in the end. Suhyeok huffs out a soft laugh, bordering sad, shaking his head. “Kind of, but also not really.” He doesn’t really let Cheongsan answer that, because he’s leaning in and kissing him so he can stub that stupid, hopeful feeling igniting in his chest, out. 

(It only makes it worse; adds more embers to the glowing flame before it becomes a roaring fire, all-consuming. Yet he can't stop making it worse. If he had some sort of self-restraint, he wouldn't be here, would he?) 

It’s the first time they’ve kissed where people wander, where people could see them, but neither of them seem to care. 

Suhyeok’s hand slides down to grip the nape Cheongsan’s neck. Cheongsan breathes a laugh against his lips, winding his arms around his waist, and it’s sweet. It’s sweet and soft, and Suhyeok finds himself losing his footing and falling just a little more, heartbeat quickening. It’s slow, like they’ve got all the time in the world.

It’s different. 

When they pull away, Cheongsan’s looking up at him like he’s got more to say, but he only offers a slight smile, a tender look flickering in his eyes, and Suhyeok melts for the hundredth time. 

There’s nothing platonic about any of what they’ve been doing up until this very moment, he feels, but it’s not like he’s going to say anything about it. 

So, as always, he keeps quiet when Cheongsan takes his hand and guides them home.

“Should we go on a retreat next weekend?” Gyeongsu asks while he’s scrolling through his seemingly endless list of movies to choose from.

“Retreat?” Cheongsan questions. “To where?”’

“I don’t know. To the countryside or something? I mean, we kind of deserve it after we’ve worked our asses off for the mid-terms.”

“Gyeongsu, might I remind you, you’ve studied the least out of all of us during it all,” Onjo cuts in.

Namra chuckles. “Yeah. You were kind of slacking off half of the time.”

“I was busy providing entertainment, okay?” Gyeongsu says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go! Come on, it’s going to be fun.”

“It’s not going to be very fun when our expenses pile up,” Suhyeok mumbles. 

“I mean,” Cheongsan starts, glancing up at him. They’re currently snuggled up together, and none of their friends are questioning their (extra) closeness. It’s like they’re used to it at this point, treating it like it’s a normal, every day occurrence. “I think it would be fun? It would make for a good time.” 

“Right?” Gyeongsu says, grinning a little. “Now, that’s my best friend. What do the rest of you say?”

“I mean… I guess?” he answers when Cheongsan gently tugs at the hem of his shirt. He can never win, not against Cheongsan, anyway. Not against Cheongsan who’s staring up at him with those eyes. “It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do,” Suhyeok says, thinking about the date he had planned for next week; it involves star gazing and long walks on the beach, but he guesses that’s not happening.

Cheongsan seems to sense his aversion; his fingers sink into his shirt, reeling him in closer as he whispers, “We’ll get some alone time during the retreat, don’t worry. It will make up for the missed date night.” That's probably supposed to be an innocent statement, but Suhyeok feels his cheeks heat up rapidly and he’s glad they’re in semi-darkness or else he would have been made fun of to no end for his gutter-mind. 

“We need cheap accommodation, a plan, and a form of transportation if this is really going to happen,” Namra pipes up, clapping her hands together, distracting Suhyeok from his entirely unnecessary thoughts. 

They end up huddling around Gyeongsu’s laptop, movie night adjourned, doing extensive research for the next few hours, and end up settling on an affordable accommodation, the place they want to go to for their short four days, three nights retreat (“Missing one day of class, especially on a Friday, isn’t going to kill us,” Gyeongsu reasons), and they also find a train line which directly takes them there. 

There’s a bit of squabbling in between, but they manage to do most of the important work until Gyeongsu’s mum comes knocking on the door later that evening, asking them if they’re planning on staying over for the night. (It’s a gentle way for her to remind them of the time and to kick them out.)

On their walk home, Suhyeok’s spilling with enthusiasm, more excited about this than he was hours ago when the suggestion was first made. He stops short when he realises Cheongsan hasn’t really spoken much. “Wait, am I talking too much? I’m sorry, I just—”

“Nah, you’re fine. I like it when you’re so enthusiastic about something.” There goes that tender warmth Suhyeok finds himself reeling over each and every time. How in the hell do you not trip and stumble and completely fall, head first, over that? Because he’s trying to figure that out himself. 

“Still, you haven’t really said anything and now I feel embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Cheongsan says, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “I mean it when I say I like to listen to you talk.”

This has to count as flirting, right? It has to. It has to count for something. Fuck, if it doesn’t. “Right,” Suhyeok mumbles. He clears his throat. “I think it’ll be fun.” 

“Mmm,” Cheongsan hums in agreement. “I think so, too.”

—

When he gets out of the shower, he finds his phone blowing up with messages from the group chat. He settles into bed before tapping into it, reading it from the comfort of his freshly washed sheets. 

gyeongsu: 

(23:45) guys

(23:45) idk how to break it to you 

(23:46) but the accommodation we were looking into has like, three rooms

(23:46) two double-bed ones, and one single bed one

cheongsan:

(23:47) uh

(23:47) that’s fine?

(23:48) i don’t see why that’s a big deal

(23:48) one of us three will sleep on the couch because namra and onjo are definitely rooming together

gyeongsu: 

(23:49) i do not want to sleep on the couch lmao

(23:49) last time i did that, my back hurt for a few days straight

cheongsan: 

(23:49) lmfao well i’m not sleeping on the couch either tyvm

gyeongsu:

(23:50) suhyeok?

suhyeok: 

(23:54) i’m not sleeping on the couch when there’s a bed for me to sleep on. are you kidding?

(23:54) @cheongsan we can share a bed

cheongsan: 

(23:55) no ty bestie <3

suhyeok: 

(23:55) we’ve shared a bed several times, i highly doubt it would be a big deal if we shared a bed for three nights.

(23:55) and it’s a double bed, too.

onjo: 

(23:58) oml what is this spam

(00:02) lmao @cheongsan say yes or suhyeokie will be sad :’( 

cheongsan: 

(00:03) we shared a bed like, once. 

(00:03) ONCE.

suhyeok: 

(00:04) once? but oh, i beg to differ. 

cheongsan: 

(00:05) okay, so maybe more than once, but why does that matter? it’s a three-night straight ordeal. 

(00:05) and i like having my space.

suhyeok: 

(00:07) yeah, that’s not what it felt like when i woke up to you clinging comfortably onto me, on several occasions.

onjo: 

(00:08) noooo, suhyeok exposing cheongsan like that plEASE i’m cackling asjdkfgdsjkf

(00:08) i live for thissssss

gyeongsu: 

(00:08) oh my god

(00:09) take your lover’s quarrel somewhere else please we have other things to worry about here!!

namra: 

(00:10) hii, what did i miss?

onjo: 

(00:12) hi bubs <3 you didn’t miss much, just cheongsan and suhyeok being the disgustingly in love pre-marriage couple that they are and gyeongsu yelling in his own little corner. nothing new, really.

cheongsan:

(00:13) @onjo and where did you get that from??

namra: 

(00:13) oh?

(00:13) lol let me read the stuff i’ve missed, brb

gyeongsu: 

(00:15) i mean, i don’t mind sharing a bed with either of you but i doubt you guys would say yes

suhyeok: 

(00:15) yeah you’re great and all but i’d rather not

cheongsan: 

(00:16) i mean, i wouldn’t mind?

suhyeok: 

(00:18) you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with gyeongsu but you get all whiny and shit when it’s with me?? wtf is this, it’s not like we haven’t done this before. 

onjo:

(00:18) ooft this is some big time suhyeok discrimination </3

suhyeok:

(00:18) ikr wtf </3

cheongsan: 

(00:19) look, it’s different this time, okay?

suhyeok:

(00:20) different how? please explain, i have all night. 

cheongsan: 

(00:20) yeah, no

(00:20) i don’t have to explain myself to you

namra: 

(00:21) my god, just share a room with him @cheongsan

onjo: 

(00:21) lmao exactly you’re making a big deal out of nothing

cheongsan: 

(00:23) i’m?? being fucking ganged up on????

gyeongsu: 

(00:23) so i guess that’s settled then, cheongsan’s rooming with suhyeok

(00:32) okay booked it, i’ll send my bank details and you guys can send the money over <3

cheongsan:

(00:35) HELLO WHAT

(00:35) and when in TF DID I AGREE TO THIS????././?>??

suhyeok: 

(00:36) guess we’re roomies now <333

cheongsan: 

(00:37) logging off and never returning </3

onjo:

(00:38) lmao you love us 

cheongsan: 

(00:39) after tonight i don’t

The week crawls by, and by the time Friday morning rolls around, Suhyeok is raring to get out of the city for a little while. 

Cheongsan seems to have accepted his fate: sleeping in the same bed as Suhyeok, if his dwindling amount of complaints is anything to go by. 

His dad ends up driving him and Cheongsan to the station on the morning of their trip. 

“Thanks,” Suhyeok says, fist bumping him.

“Have fun,” he says, “and remember what your mum said. Pro—”

“Oh my god. Please, not you too! I already said nothing’s going to happen,” Suhyeok hisses, cheeks flushing. He glances back at Cheongsan and sees him standing a few feet away from them, waiting for Suhyeok to finish talking to his dad. He backs away, all the more eager to catch up to Cheongsan and get away from his dad. He’s really not keen on him lecturing him with what his mum had already told him (or more like ambushed him with while he was least expecting) earlier this morning. He was this close to telling her that none of this was real, so she would stop.

“We’re just making sure you’re going to cover your grounds when you get too excited,” his dad explains patiently. “Because we know how you kids can get when you don’t think with your brain.”

Suhyeok sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, I get it. We’re old enough to know better. I’ll call you when we arrive.” 

“What did he say?” Cheongsan asks, eyeing him curiously as Suhyeok saunters up to him, wearing a tired expression.

“Nothing significant,” Suhyeok answers. “Just the usual stuff parents say when their kids go on a trip without them.” That seems to get the message across, judging by the look which crosses his face. 

They get onto the train and find the other three in one of the middle carriages, Namra and Onjo sitting in one of the two-seaters and Gyeongsu sitting alone in the row behind them, next to the window. 

For the first half of the ride, Cheongsan sits next to Gyeongsu, because Gyeongsu had insisted he sit next to him since he had something to show him; the second half of the ride — once Gyeongsu gets bored with Cheongsan’s constant inattentiveness, which results with him mumbling about how he doesn’t have time for friendship anymore now that he’s dating — Cheongsan moves so he could sit next to Suhyeok instead, looking harassed.

“Welcome back,” Suhyeok says, grinning softly when Cheongsan plops into the seat next to him and sighs, loudly. 

“He talks so much,” he groans softly, head falling onto Suhyeok’s shoulder. “I love him and all, but seriously.”

“It’s good he’s fallen asleep then,” Suhyeok says, shifting slightly in his seat so Cheongsan could make a more comfortable pillow out of his shoulder. “You tired?”

“Kind of. I didn’t get much sleep last night because I had a lot to think about.”

“Such as?”

“Such as stupid things that don’t deserve as much thought as they did,” Cheongsan answers, looping his arms with Suhyeok’s. “It’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.” He lifts his head up to look at Suhyeok. “Are you not tired?” 

“Nope,” Suhyeok reassures. “Go to sleep if you’re tired. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

So Cheongsan does exactly that; he falls asleep on Suhyeok’s shoulder, and Suhyeok ends up dying over it for a bit, even though this was his suggestion in the first place.

—

Suhyeok wakes up to the sound of a camera shutter going off, and by the time he opens his eyes to look around, he sees Onjo’s coat tail whipping out of sight, her hearty laughter growing fainter as she scurries off the train. 

“What the hell happened?” he asks as Cheongsan stirs from his sleep.

“She took a picture of you two,” Namra says, grinning down at them. Gyeongsu’s nowhere to be seen; he can only assume he’s already hopped off the train. “Gyeongsu told her to do it. She’s a cheeky accomplice, that one.”

“Of course it was his idea,” Suhyeok mumbles. He glances over and sees Cheongsan coming to. “Tell her to send it to me, thanks,” he quickly says, hoping Cheongsan didn’t hear any of that.

“What happened?” Cheongsan asks, lifting his head off Suhyeok’s shoulder and rubbing at his eyes, sleepily. He looks out the window, then back at Suhyeok, bleary-eyed. “We’ve arrived?” 

Suhyeok looks over at him, beating Namra to it. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. And yes, we’ve arrived.”

Namra eyes him with a raised brow, and he quickly shakes his head, signalling a ‘No. Don’t you dare.’ She makes a face, shrugging her shoulders. “You guys had better get off soon, or else the train will leave with you both still on,” she says, then heads off the train to find Gyeongsu and Onjo. 

“Come on,” Suhyeok says, laughing when Cheongsan nuzzles his cheek on his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m still so tired, good god,” Cheongsan whines, voice a little gruff with sleep. 

Yeah. Uh. So, like? Suhyeok’s totally not having a mental breakdown over this? Oh, yeah, nah, that is definitely not happening.

And why the fuck is he so cute for? Can I squish him? God, I want to squish him. Maybe I should. He’s within a few inches’ reach. 

Instead, Suhyeok says, lightly, “You’re such a baby”, then subconsciously leans down to plant a kiss on Cheongsan’s temple. He feels Cheongsan’s tensing against him, then he’s jumping out of his seat, completely leaving Suhyeok’s side. The warmth of him pressed into Suhyeok’s side just moments ago dissipates into thin air, leaving him a little too cold for comfort. 

“Namra’s right, we should probably get going,” he mutters, turning away from Suhyeok, then he speed walks off the train like he has one goal in mind: to get as far away from Suhyeok as possible.  Which is not exactly… Encouraging. Suhyeok could swear Cheongsan’s cheeks were turning red right before he turned away from him, but maybe that’s his urgent need for glasses speaking.

(In the case in which he saw right, then he finds it very endearing that he’s acting so shy over something that shouldn’t be that big of a deal in the first place, considering what they’ve been getting up to lately. 

But then again, this is the same guy who had a freak out over how they were going to have to share a bed for three nights in a row, so…

That’s that, he guesses.)

—

It’s a bit of a trek to get to the cabin, with it being around a thirty-minute walk. 

It’s made even longer when Onjo keeps stopping every five minutes to take pictures of the surrounding view.  

“Can’t you tell your girlfriend to put her camera away? We haven’t got all day,” Gyeongsu complains when they’re stopped for the fourth time in the span of fifteen minutes, so Onjo can get a shot of some random tree. The glare he gets directed his way from Namra is enough to shut him up the next time they make a stop for the sake of Onjo and her newfound hobby. 

By the time they get to the cabin, it’s two in the afternoon; Suhyeok really wouldn’t mind sleeping the day away.

“Uh, this place is much bigger than I thought,” Onjo says, poking her head out of her and Namra’s room; the room she had claimed the moment they walked in. “There’s a small balcony and everything and the scenery is so nice,” she gushes, happily. 

Gyeongsu’s fiddling with the television, and Namra heads towards the small kitchen, looking through the cupboards.

Cheongsan heads straight for his Suhyeok’s room, luggage in tow, with Suhyeok following closely behind him. “Oh my god." He wheels his suitcase aside, then jumps onto the bed, limbs sprawled out on the mattress. “I’m so fucking tired,” he groans into the sheets, voice muffled.  

Suhyeok stifles a laugh behind his hand as he leans against the doorframe. “You’ll get to sleep all you want later tonight, but I think we’re all due for a nice lunch.” 

“Can I just sleep and not go anywhere for the rest of the day?” Cheongsan grumbles, sitting up and twisting around to face Suhyeok with a pout. 

His hand wrapped around his luggage’s handle twitches. The urge to climb onto the bed and kiss him silly (and spend the rest of the day doing just that only), against his own better judgement increases astronomically; it’s surprising he doesn’t end up acting on it. It’s a surprise he’s even able to resist the dangerous temptation of it. Suhyeok clears his throat, willing his brain to shut up for one second. “Are you not hungry?”

“Kind of?”

“Then let’s get something to eat, and then we’ll come back and get you to bed, okay?” he coaxes, like he’s talking to a child. 

Cheongsan scowls at him. “I’m twenty,” he says, putting an emphasis on his age, “so you talking to me like I’m a child is kind of off-putting.”

“You’re acting like a child right now,” Suhyeok points out, unsticking himself from the doorframe. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Cheongsan gets off the bed and trudges his way over to him. 

“Are we getting lunch anytime soon?” he asks as they make their way back to the living room, feeling Cheongsan’s warm hand slip naturally into his. 

“Yeah,” Gyeongsu says, looking up from the television, as if he just realised lunch should be the next thing on their agenda if they don’t want to starve. “Let me just…” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll search up a few places we can go to.”

“I’m craving for some convenient store instant noodles,” Onjo says as she pokes her head out from her and Namra’s room. 

—

They end up getting the noodles Onjo so craved, but at an actual restaurant instead of a convenient store.

“There’s a supermarket near here; you guys want to go there to pick up some snacks for the next few days?” Gyeongsu questions after coming back from paying the bill.

Onjo and Cheongsan exchange excited glances. Suhyeok glances at them with amusement, and Namra groans a little. “You’re asking us to do grocery shopping when we could be enjoying ourselves?” she asks, sounding scandalised. “I’ll be very honest with you. That’s a shit idea. Bottom of the barrel type of idea.”

“I think it’ll be quite fun,” Onjo says, tugging at her sleeve. “A few bags of snacks to sustain ourselves won’t hurt, hm?” She tilts her head, and Namra sighs in the way she does when she knows she just can’t win, conceding almost right away. 

Suhyeok has to bite back a smile at how obvious she is. But then again, they are together, and aren’t fake dating like some people are, so it doesn’t matter even if she’s shamelessly smitten. 

He glances over at Cheongsan who’s chattering away with Onjo, conversing about the snacks they’re planning to buy to fill up the cupboard and fridge for the upcoming days, with Gyeongsu telling them to calm down because their suggestions are starting to pile up into a month’s worth of food. He feels a tug in his chest, a slight ache, as he surveys the excited smile on Cheongsan’s lips. He clenches his hand into a loose fist.

Cheongsan looks over, smile faltering when his eyes land on him. “Is something wrong?” he asks, drawing unwanted attention towards him. “You don’t look well.”

Nothing’s okay and I’m dying on the inside because I’m falling for the very guy I shouldn’t be falling for, he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Because that’s dramatic, a bit much, and very revealing. He decides then and there that he doesn’t like to feel exposed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, offering a weak smile. Cheongsan frowns, clearly not believing him. “Really, I’m fine. I guess I lied about not being tired, because I am tired.” He fakes a yawn, hoping it’s somewhat convincing. 

“…Do you want to go back and get some rest?” Cheongsan asks, still concerned. “I can go back with you.”

The offer’s tempting, but then the thought of them being alone (assuming the other three would probably still go ahead to the supermarket) makes him super nervous, so he decides against it. Sure, they’ve spent time alone on multiple occasions, but that’s not the point.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be able to sleep better at night like this,” he says. Before Cheongsan could say anything else or argue with him, he looks around at the group. “So… Are we going shopping or what?”

—

As they wander through the aisles, trolley in front of them, Suhyeok starts worrying. Surely they won’t be able to finish all of this before their trip ends, right? They’ve spent way too long in these air-conditioned aisles, and the longer they spend here, the more his worries pile up (just like all the shit in the cart), until it reaches its peak. “Are you sure we can finish all of this?” he asks, gesturing at the trolley, which is slowly filling up with bags of snacks, with a tub of ice-cream buried at the bottom. There’s also microwavable meals somewhere under all the bags, because they’ve unanimously decided they’re too lazy to eat out tonight. “This seems like a waste of money.”

“Have you not seen Cheongsan and I snacking during our movie nights?” Onjo pipes up, picking out a pack of dried seaweed and placing it into the cart. “We’ll manage.”

“And me,” Gyeongsu says, glaring at Onjo as he casually drops a box of Choco Pies into the mix. “How can you forget all about me? The one who coordinates said movie nights and makes sure it runs without a hitch.”

“All you eat is popcorn,” Onjo shoots back. “And shitty, off-brand microwaved popcorn at that. That’s hardly something someone who has taste would call a snack.” 

“Microwaved popcorn is amazing, you tasteless menace. Take that back right now!” he retorts, like defending microwaved popcorn is his one and only life goal. It’s made only more amusing by the fact that he sounds genuinely upset.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but your taste buds are clearly dead, or completely burned off if you think that stuff tastes good—”

“Guys,” Namra interrupts, holding Onjo back around the elbow, looking about as done as she sounds. “We’re in public. Let’s not fight like little kids.”

“Who’re fighting like kids?” 

Suhyeok looks ahead and sees Cheongsan walking up to them, a bag of lollipops he probably snagged from the sweets aisle in his left hand. “Onjo and Gyeongsu,” he supplies helpfully as Cheongsan unloads the bag into the cart. 

“It’s always them,” Cheongsan says, turning to look at Suhyeok without paying what’s happening in front of them much mind. “I think we’ve gotten enough to last ourselves at least a week,” he says, considering the contents in the cart.

“No shit,” Suhyeok mumbles under his breath. “I think we should put some of this back on the shelf because I can almost guarantee some of that”—he gestures at the contents—“will not be touched. Like — at all. It’s a waste.” 

“Who’s paying?” Cheongsan asks. 

“We’re all chipping in, aren’t we?” Namra chimes in.

“Onjo can pay for everything else other than my microwaved popcorns since she has some kind of vendetta against them,” Gyeongsu butts in, still sounding miffed from their earlier argument. 

Onjo blatantly ignores him. 

After going through the last two aisles, they make their way to the registers. Some things were returned to the shelves after much consideration on whether they will actually get around to opening them, let alone eating them.

Suhyeok turns to look at Cheongsan as they wait in line. “You know… I was thinking about our next date on the train ride here.” 

Cheongsan blinks up at him, looking a little caught off-guard. “Um, what about it?”

“Well, I did some research,” Suhyeok says, slowly, “and there’s a beach around here and I was wondering if… You wanted to go on Sunday night?”

He’s asked Cheongsan to go on dates with him plenty of times before, but this time, he’s way more nervous about it, and for a reason he knows a little too well. 

“Why do you sound apprehensive about it?” Cheongsan asks instead of answering his question.

“I’m not apprehensive,” defends Suhyeok. “I just… Maybe it’s not a good idea?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. I was kind of planning on doing that for our next date anyway, which would have happened back in Seoul if Gyeongsu hadn’t suggested this retreat, but we don’t have to if it sounds boring—”

“Suhyeok, you’re rambling.” He clasps a hand around his forearm. “Breathe.” 

Suhyeok draws in a deep breath, embarrassed. “I— I’m sorry,” he says, voice low. Jesus Christ, why is he so bad at this? “I don’t know why I’m panicking, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“It’s fine,” Cheongsan reassures. “I personally think that’s a great idea; it’s going to be nice! There’s nothing more romantic than getting sand in your shoes while you walk along the shoreline with your boyfriend, y’know?” he says with a grin.

Suhyeok furrows his eyebrows. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t make fun of me,” he mutters.

“I’m only playing with you,” he says, moving in to squish his cheeks. “Look at you! You’re such a pouty baby,” he coos, much to Suhyeok’s chagrin. His smile softens, hands sliding down to cup both sides of his neck. “Your idea isn’t boring, okay? So don’t worry so much. And I did promise you some alone time, so you know.” He nudges Suhyeok’s side, a playful smile on his lips. “About time I fulfilled that promise.”

“You guys are so disgusting; fucking take this shit back to your room or something,” Gyeongsu complains behind them, which earns him the middle finger, courtesy of Cheongsan. 

Suhyeok tries to calm himself down when Cheongsan wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “What are you doing?” he asks, voice soft.

“Pretending to be your boyfriend,” Cheongsan answers contently, leaning against him.

It’s moments like these when it doesn’t feel like pretend. 

—

“You know what we should do tomorrow? Hiking,” Onjo says as they shuffle into the cabin, carrying plastic bags filled with snacks. “Weather’s supposed to be nice.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Gyeongsu agrees. “We can have a whole feast somewhere in the mountains with all the food we’ve bought today.” 

“Now we’re thinking on the same wavelength. None of that microwaved popcorn bullshit.”

“I thought we left that back at the supermarket?” Gyeongsu questions sharply, as they huddle in the kitchen, unloading the bags onto the countertop.

“Lord, not again,” Namra mumbles next to Suhyeok. Suhyeok lets out a quiet scoff at that.

“They’re annoying,” Suhyeok says in a volume only she can hear. 

“Right?” Namra asks, eyeing Onjo. A smile slips onto her face even as she watches Onjo take her and Gyeongsu’s heated debate over the dumbest topic out there known to mankind to the living room, while Cheongsan tries and fails to insert himself as the mediator between them. His eyes linger on Namra, observant, wondering if that’s how he looks at Cheongsan. Maybe it is. (It definitely is. There's no denying it.) She turns to Suhyeok, leaning on the kitchen counter, locking eyes with him. “You’re staring,” she says, tilting her head. An easy grin makes its way onto her face as she says, “What, do you still like me or something?” 

Suhyeok scrunches his nose. “Oh, hell no. You’re great and all, but I definitely don’t like you that way.” His eyes drift over to Cheongsan. “I haven’t liked you for… Some time already. A very long time, actually.” 

“Good, I’d have to reject you if you told me otherwise, because I’ve a girlfriend, and I love her very much.” 

Rolling his eyes, Suhyeok turns to look at her. “Yeah, you’ve made that very clear.” 

Her grin softens. “So how are you and Cheongsan?”

Blinking at the unexpected question, he says, “I mean…” He lets out a nervous huff of laughter, even though there’s nothing in particular for him to be nervous about. “We’re doing good? As good as people who are fake dating can do.”

“Hm,” Namra hums. “Okay, but how are you?” she asks, softer this time. She knows. He can tell. She’s known for quite some time. He knows that, too. (He wants to ask if she’s known before this entire ordeal happened, but he decides to spare himself the humiliation.) 

“I’m fine, I guess.” Suhyeok swallows, sneaking a glance at Cheongsan once again; a smile twitches at the corners of his lips despite himself. 

“You’re pretty obvious, you know?”

Suhyeok exhales softly, eyes still lingering on Cheongsan, who’s currently holding Gyeongsu back by the scruff of his collar with an annoyed expression. “I just… I want him, in a way I know shouldn’t,” he admits, quietly. “I want him. But I don’t think he wants me that way, and I can’t make him want me that way, either.” This is the first time he’s admitted this out loud to someone; it feels strangely cathartic.

“You should tell him,” Namra says, reaching up and squeezing gently around his shoulder. “He deserves to know; deserves to make his own decision on whether he feels the same way towards you.” 

Cheongsan looks over at him, catching his eyes. “Yeah,” Suhyeok agrees as Cheongsan smiles at him. A smile so different from any other, one that seems to be for him, and for him only. A smile reserved for him. “Yeah. He… He deserves to know.”

When he’s ready, he’ll tell him, he swears. 

He swears. 

But today’s not going to be that day. 

—

That night, when Suhyeok enters his — their — room after taking a shower, he finds Cheongsan lying on the floor on a makeshift mattress. There’s an extra blanket covering him, a single pillow under his head. “What are you doing?” he asks, confused as all hell, because why the fuck is he sleeping on the floor when there’s a bed for him to sleep on? “You do realise there’s a bed right there?” He gestures at it, as if that isn’t obvious enough. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to try sleeping on the floor.”

“You didn’t want to sleep on the couch, so why would you want to sleep on the floor, of all places?” Suhyeok asks, incredulously. “Sounds weird, if you ask me.” 

Cheongsan continues to scroll through his phone without looking at him even once. “I like the floor more than I like the couch. Is there a problem with that?”

Suhyeok lets out an exasperated sigh as he makes his way over to the bed and plops down on it. “You can just say sleeping next to me makes you feel uncomfortable,” he says. “I won’t take offence to that.” Except he does take offence to that. They've shared a bed before, for god's sake, so what's the big deal? Is he missing something here?

Sitting up, Cheongsan turns to look up at him. “It’s not that it makes me uncomfortable. It’s just… This is a three-night thing.”

“I thought we were way past that,” Suhyeok says, slowly. “And so what if it’s a three-night thing? Why does that even matter? We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s really not that big of a deal, so I don’t understand your line of argument.” 

“Well, it makes it all feel too… Too…” he trails off, frowning, as if he’s not sure how to put his thoughts into coherent sentences. Then, after a moment of silence, he waves his hand dismissively. “You know what? You’re right. It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.” 

“I’m just trying to understand, because we’ve done this so many times before. Why is it any different now?” Excuse him for not understanding why he’s making a big deal out of something that wasn’t a big deal before. Heaving a sigh, he says, “I can sleep on the floor instead. You can take the bed.”

“No,” Cheongsan quickly says. “I’ll be fine.”

Suhyeok fixes him with an annoyed look. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head. He has so much more to say, but he doesn’t want to risk getting into an argument so he swallows it down and instead says, “Try not catching a cold down there, okay? We’ve got places to be tomorrow.” 

“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything,” Cheongsan says, a tired smile flickering on his lips; one which doesn’t reach his eyes.

Letting out another resigned sigh, Suhyeok switches off the lamp on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable under the covers. The glow of Cheongsan’s phone screen dims before it completely fades to black, then he hears the rustling of blankets.

The silence stretches out long enough for Suhyeok to wonder if Cheongsan’s asleep already, when he hears a soft “Good night” coming from somewhere next to his bed. 

For once, he doesn’t say it back.

Having a good night’s sleep is apparently beyond his body’s comprehension, because he wakes up feeling like hadn't slept a wink. The tossing and turning really didn’t help his case at all. 

“Are you sure you can go hiking like that? You look terrible,” Gyeongsu comments over breakfast. Cereal and plain toast are what’s apparently on the menu today. It’s unappealing enough as it is, but it’s made a little worse since Suhyeok doesn’t really have an appetite; he still tries to get some toast down, considering how they have a long day ahead of them. 

“I gave you the bed last night and you still couldn’t sleep well?” Cheongsan asks, raising a brow at him from across the table. 

Gyeongsu looks at him. “Wait, what? Didn’t you guys sleep in the same bed?”

“Well, he insisted he wanted to sleep on the floor,” Suhyeok says, beating Cheongsan to it. He’s still visibly and unreasonably upset over it, and it shows in the way he speaks. Maybe it’s also because the lack of sleep is quickly catching up to him, though he’s usually not this irritable just because he wasn’t able to sleep. It’s so… Out of character for him, this bubbling irritation he feels towards Cheongsan.

Gyeongsu settles his questioning stare on Cheongsan, and Suhyeok takes secret pleasure in the way he squirms in his seat, uncomfortable with the visible scrutiny. “I didn’t feel like sleeping in bed,” Cheongsan answers in a mumble. “Is something wrong with that?” 

“Not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but you were very insistent on not taking the couch, so I’m just surprised you decided to sleep on the floor,” Gyeongsu answers, slowly, eyes drifting over to Suhyeok. 

Their conversation and Suhyeok’s quiet brooding is interrupted when Onjo walks out of her and Namra’s room, looking refreshed and quite happy, cheeks a little flushed, hair a little messy. “Hey,” Onjo sings happily, taking a seat next to Gyeongsu. “Namra and I stayed up last night and planned our short hike for today,” she announces, clapping her hands together excitedly. 

“Where’s Namra?” Gyeongsu questions, looking around, as if she’s going to materialise out of thin air. 

“Still changing,” she answers, a bit too quickly, which causes raised brows amongst the three of therm. “What?” 

“That’s suspicious,” Gyeongsu mutters.

She frowns, folding her arms over her chest. “What’s so suspicious about—”

“Oh my god, please don’t start,” Cheongsan groans. “Can we get along like the adults we are?”

“Adults who can’t even sleep next to someone without making a big deal out of it,” Suhyeok mumbles, pettily, loud enough for the other three to hear him. “Especially when it’s something that’s been done before, time and time again.” 

“What was that?” Cheongsan questions, whipping his head over to look at him, brows creased together. “Okay, what’s the deal with you today? You wake up all grumpy and shit, and I get it — we sometimes wake up on the wrong side of the bed, but now you’re acting like a complete ass and for what?”

“I’m not acting like an ass, I’m just stating facts,” Suhyeok says, “but I guess if stating facts makes me an ass then so be it.”

“My god, you’re being such a dick. Do you take pleasure in ruining everyone’s morning? It’s literally ten o'clock right now — we don’t need this.”

“No, I don’t take pleasure in ruining people’s mornings, but maybe if you weren’t always so fucking confusing then we wouldn’t be here,” Suhyeok shoots back, tone bordering aggressive. Their gazes fixate on each other, Cheongsan’s expression shifting into one of transparent hurt. Suhyeok clenches his jaw. The atmosphere shifts, an air of unease settling over them. 

“Guys,” Onjo interrupts, nervously, gaze shifting between the two of them. “What’s with the aggressiveness? It’s too early for this.”

“They’re fighting because Cheongsan wouldn’t sleep next to Suhyeok last night and took the floor instead,” Gyeongsu explains, unfazed, spooning a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “We just got front row tickets to an unfolding drama series,” he says, nudging her with his elbow. Onjo grimaces in response, clearly not too pleased with being caught in the middle of this. 

“I think I’m done here,” Suhyeok says, what little of his appetite he had left now completely lost. Chair legs scrape against the floor as he stands up abruptly, a dull screech sounding out. “I’d hate to ruin people’s mornings by simply existing,” he deadpans, eyes on Cheongsan the whole time. Without waiting for an answer, he makes his way back to their room and closes the door behind him. In hindsight, that was probably a bit of a dramatic exit, but that’s the least of his worries. A groan escapes him as he falls back onto the bed, heels of his palms digging into his eyes. He’s unable to get the look on Cheongsan’s face out of his head. Everything’s fucked, and he’s pissed over the stupidest thing. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to this trip. As he lays there, regretting his existence and the choices he’s made to lead him to one of the shittier moments in his life — in which he’d inflicted upon himself — he hears a knock on the door. There’s only one person he hopes is knocking, even though the possibility of it right now is slim to zero. “What?” he asks, not bothering to sit up, heels of his palms still pressed into his eyelids. He hears the door creaking slightly as it opens, then it clicking shut. Slippers pad against wooden flooring, then he feels the bed dip next to him. 

“Cheongsan’s an idiot, you know?” 

Suhyeok peels his hands away from his eyes, glancing up and over to his left side, and sees Onjo sitting next to him. He feels like a piece of shit for wishing that was Cheongsan instead; she clearly came in here to comfort him and all he can think about is him. How incredibly rude of him. “No shit,” he mumbles, sighing heavily, pushing his thoughts aside. He uses his arms as his temporary pillow, folding them under his head. “He can suck so bad. Sometimes. Not always.” He exhales through his nose. “I don’t know. It’s weird. This whole thing is weird.”  

“Namra told me about your feelings towards him, though to be honest, it wasn’t really needed, because you are kind of hopelessly obvious.” When he stays silent, she continues, “Cheongsanie… He’s not— he’s not good at dealing with his feelings,” she says, quietly. “He’s not someone who’s direct. He doesn’t know how to be direct. He’s also bad with words, and so he shows his affection in other ways.” Suhyeok looks over at her again when she places a tentative hand on his forearm. “He’s an idiot, and he winds up doing stupid things and it can be incredibly frustrating because you sometimes just can’t understand him, but he’s also an idiot who probably likes you back and isn’t sure how he’s supposed to manoeuvre that.” 

“Right,” Suhyeok says, wishing his heart wouldn’t flutter over the mere thought of Cheongsan liking him back. It does, though. It does, against his own will. “I’ll believe it when he stops trying to push me away like I’ve done something to wrong him and his family and his entire line of ancestors.” He rubs a hand down his face. “I just… I don’t understand him. I thought I did, but I guess not. It’s like — one moment, he’s kissing me like it’s supposed to mean something, and then the next, he’s pushing me away like he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. If that’s how liking someone should be like, then I’m clearly doing it wrong.” 

“Then maybe you should talk to him about that.”

“I know,” Suhyeok says. “I know, and I will. I just need to psych myself up a bit more.” 

“Psych yourself up for what?” 

“For possible rejection?” Suhyeok says. He sits up. “I don’t know. It could go either way with him. I’ll probably be out of commission for some time if he rejects me; I need to be prepared for the worst possible outcome.”

“Come on,” Onjo says, tittering softly. “You need to give yourself a bit more credit than that. Believe in yourself.” She stands up from the bed. “But think about it, yeah?” She leaves him to stew in his own thoughts, only to poke her head back in a minute later. “Are you still up for hiking or are you going to sit this one out? Won’t blame you if you’d rather stay here.”

“That’s a very tempting offer, but I also don’t want to rot away in here for the rest of the day, alone with my shitty thoughts. So, yeah, I’ll be going. Thanks for the concern.” He smiles, genuinely grateful, and she smiles back at him.

“Any time.” She tilts her head. “Good luck with him.” 

He nods. He’s going to need all the luck he can get. 

—

Onjo and Namra naturally end up at the front of the group — they’re the ones who mapped out the route they were going to follow, after all — with Onjo spilling poetics about the hiking trail, while Namra listens and encourages her to take photos. Gyeongsu’s walking next to Cheongsan, with Cheongsan pointing out their surroundings. Suhyeok ends up at the back of the group, wrapped up in his thoughts. He needs to talk to Cheongsan, or he will combust. The sun filters through the treetops, leaves crunching beneath their feet.

It would be a pleasant hike if Suhyeok isn't so preoccupied with his thoughts; so preoccupied the tip of his shoe ends up catching on a tree root he didn’t see sticking out into the trail. It isn’t until he feels a dull pain shoot through his knees and the sting in his hands; until Cheongsan’s kneeling next to him, asking him if he’s okay in an urgent voice, does he realise he’s tripped over. “I think I’m fine,” Suhyeok mumbles unconvincingly, faintly registering the familiar gentle wrap of Cheongsan’s hand around his forearm, feeling dazed. 

“Jesus, are you alright?” Gyeongsu questions, standing to the other side of him. 

“That’s a dumb question — he’s fallen over. I don’t think he’s doing too well,” Onjo quips from somewhere in front of him. 

“Yeah,” Suhyeok answers, as Cheongsan helps him up by the arms. He flips his palms over and sees a scratch on them both. He looks down towards his knees, and his left knee has a scrape on it, a hole torn in the fabric of his pant leg. “I’m fine. Haven’t died or anything, so I think I’m doing pretty well?”

“That’s not funny,” Cheongsan interjects in a disapproving tone, frowning at the wounds on his palms like they’ve done him wrong. He looks towards the other three. “Do you guys have anything on you to treat wounds with?” he asks. 

“Cheongsan, I’m fine,” Suhyeok says, squeezing around his arm reassuringly. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” 

“It will be a big deal when you get an infection; I don’t want that happening,” Cheongsan responds while Onjo rummages through her bag. Suhyeok blinks in surprise, biting back a smile. Cheongsan being protective of him? He could get used to that. 

She draws out a clean towel. “I mean, I have this? Maybe you can use your bottle of water to help clean the wounds up,” she suggests, handing the towel over to Cheongsan.

Namra looks behind her, then back at Suhyeok. “You think you can make it further?” she asks, glancing over at Cheongsan. “We still have some way to go before we make it there.”

“It’s just a few scrapes, I think I can—”

“I personally think,” Namra says, speaking over him, “Cheongsan should probably stay and tend to your wounds. You guys can catch up with us once you’re all patched up.”

Onjo nods. “That’s a good idea,” she says, throwing a grin in Suhyeok’s direction.

These nosy idiots, he thinks. 

“No, seriously, there’s no need,” Suhyeok stresses as Cheongsan leads him to a nearby bench, forcing him to sit down. “I’m fine—”

“I think we’ll do that,” Cheongsan says, quietly, so Suhyeok's the only one who can hear him, which stops Suhyeok in his tracks. “You guys can go ahead,” he says, all the while having his eyes trained on Suhyeok. Swallowing, Suhyeok bites the inside of his cheeks to keep himself silent. 

“I can stay, too— ouch, why did you kick me?” Gyeongsu snaps, swivelling around to glare at Onjo.

“We’ll be taking our leave,” Onjo announces, grabbing Gyeongsu’s arm. “And you’ll be coming with us. We’ll see you guys soon.”

With that, they leave, heading further up their mapped route. The crunching of leaves fade, the loud voices of Gyeongsu and Onjo squabbling becoming fainter before silence falls over them once again. Sighing, Cheongsan rummages through his bag and pulls out a bottle of water, kneeling down in front of Suhyeok. They’re silent as Cheongsan tends to his wounds.

Suhyeok openly studies him and notices the way he sticks his tongue out slightly when he’s concentrating on something, eyebrows furrowed. He finds it so very endearing. “I think they did this on purpose. Leaving us alone, I mean,” he says, trying to make conversation. 

“I think so, too,” Cheongsan answers, pressing firmly against the wound on his knee. Suhyeok winces a little. He lifts his head up to look at him. “I’m sorry,” he apologises, “for calling you names like a fifth grader earlier today. And for…” he trails off. “For being confusing. I’m sorry for acting the way I did. The way I do.” 

Well, he didn’t expect that, but he is a little glad for the turn of events. “San-ah…”

“I have reasons as to why… I’m like this. Not that they’re excuses, though." Cheongsan continues to dab at his open wounds with the towel, cleaning them up thoroughly. Suhyeok stares at him. He wants to ask, ‘Reasons? What reasons?’, but he doesn’t. He knows better than to press him for an answer. “I’ll try to be better. I mean, you deserve a boyfriend who isn’t giving you whiplash with his attitude every second, you know? Even if this is fake,” he adds. “We still want nice memories of us, right? And I…” He furrows his brows, voice growing quiet as he continues, “I hate for us to be fighting.” 

Us.

Something claws its way up Suhyeok’s throat and lodges itself there, in the form of a lump. “Cheongsan—”

“I think I might have some bandages in my bag,” Cheongsan says, diverting his attention away from him as he digs through his bag. He grins when he pulls out a pack of bandages, showing it to Suhyeok with a proud flourish. “Ha! I came prepared after all,” he says, triumphantly. 

Peering down at the small box in Cheongsan’s hand, he squints, questions slipping from his mind. “Wait, are those animal print bandages?”

“They are?” Cheongsan questions, flipping the package over. “Oh shit, they are. I didn’t even realise that was the case when I grabbed them from the pharmacy. It doesn’t matter, they’ll have to do.”

“Do you really not have other bandages?” Suhyeok questions. “It’s a bit too… Colourful for me.” 

“What, are you worried they will make you look childish?” Cheongsan teases, eyes lighting up with mirth. 

“Kind of?” Suhyeok admits, which causes Cheongsan to burst into a fit of laughter. “It’s not funny!” Suhyeok insists, but there’s a smile curling at the corners of his lips. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Me? I would never,” Cheongsan answers, a huge smile still painted on his face as opens the box. “Which prints do you want? There are precisely four choices: a penguin, a lion, a whale and a bear.” 

Suhyeok groans. “Cheongsan.” 

“Babe, come on. There are only a few designs, it’s not that hard of a choice.” 

Suhyeok narrows his eyes at him. “Did you just call me babe?”

Cheongsan blinks up at him. “Um… No?”

“I heard you calling me babe!” Suhyeok says, a gleeful laugh leaving his lips as he claps his hands together. He winces as he feels a dull stinging sensation at the bottom of his palms. Shouldn’t have done that. “That’s condition number one broken!” 

“It was a slip-up,” Cheongsan quickly says. “I didn’t— it’s not meant to be taken seriously. We all slip-up sometimes; there’s a reason why we don’t take everything someone says seriously.”

“Oh no, you’ve called me babe and now I’ve gained free rein to call you whatever I please.”

“Suhyeok, please,” Cheongsan begs. “Don’t do this—”

“Sweetheart? Sweetiepie?” He thinks. “Oh, I know! Darling. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Oh my god, what monster have I created?” Cheongsan groans, sighing loudly. He pulls out a few random bandages from the pack, all of which have different prints on them. “You’re so annoying,” he says as he sticks bandages to the wounds on his palms. “An absolute nuisance. And also so clumsy.” He glares up at him. “You need to stop making me worry about you, otherwise I can’t remain angry at you for long.”

“I’m going to have come up with a list of pet names I’m going to call you,” Suhyeok says, ignoring him. 

“You will not,” Cheongsan answers, exasperatedly, sticking one to the wound on his knee. He rolls down his pant leg for him, then stands up, placing his hands on his hips. “We’re done. They’ll have to do for now.” He looks at Suhyeok. “Do you want to catch up with them, or do you want to wait for them here?” 

Extending a hand out, Suhyeok stares up at Cheongsan with a tilted head, an expectant smile on his lips. Wordlessly, Cheongsan slips his hand into Suhyeok’s, pulling him up to his feet. Their fingers intertwine, naturally. 

Maybe things aren’t completely okay right now, but Suhyeok will take what he can get at this point. 

—

“I mean, I guess the photos were kind of worth it?” Gyeongsu questions as they look over the pictures Onjo had taken on her camera. 

They’re currently sitting at a rest area, while Namra and Cheongsan have wandered off to the side, deep in conversation about… Television shows? Suhyeok’s not too sure, but he did hear them mentioning something about a squid.

A particular picture catches Suhyeok’s attention. “When did you take that?” he asks, the question directed at Onjo. 

“Uh, when you guys weren’t looking?” 

Suhyeok leans over to take a closer look. It’s a candid photo of him and Cheongsan leaning against the railing. Cheongsan’s smile is bright, dimple showing, eyes focused wholly on Suhyeok, while Suhyeok’s hands are caught in a weird, gesticulating position. The sun peeks at them at the corner of the photo, shining down at an angle. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Cheongsan’s in love with him, solely based on this picture; solely based on the way he’s looking up at him. (Not to be up his own ass about it or anything but a guy can always dream.) “Can you send that photo to me?” he asks, already having plans to frame this photo, and the photo she’d taken while they were on the train, and place them on his desk. Onjo peers down at the photo. “It’s just… Really sweet. I like it a lot.” 

“Of course,” Onjo says, a knowing lilt to her voice. “I took it for a reason.” She looks over at him. “Did you guys talk?” 

“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly. “Well, kind of. I think there’s still a lot left for us to talk about, but at least we’re not mad at each other anymore.” 

“You know, this fake dating thing has gone on for way too long,” Gyeongsu chimes in. “When are you guys going to say fuck it and go in for the real thing? Because the tension is too much to bear, good god.”

“That is true,” Onjo agrees, nodding sagely. “You guys are so cute together. Just make it happen already.” 

Suhyeok smiles, leaning against the table. He glances over at Cheongsan, their eyes meeting. Cheongsan waves at him, smile widening. He waves back. 

Something in him clicks, like a light switch has flipped; he can see so much clearer, think so much clearer. “I will tell him soon. It’s a promise I’ve made to myself.” 

Even if it might end up in flames (but of course, he hopes that won’t turn out to be the case). 

—

That night, Suhyeok feels a dull ache in his calves. It’s not like the path for their hike was particularly steep or anything; he suspects it’s because of how long the trail was, which isn't something he's used to. He’s massaging his legs when Cheongsan walks into the room, clad in his pyjamas, looking freshened up. Looking cuddly, too, Suhyeok notes. “Hey, cutie,” he greets with a sly grin, much to the chagrin of the other boy. 

“Stop,” Cheongsan whines. “Use my name. It’s so much more effective, and way less cringey.”  

“But I kind of like calling you by everything else but your name,” Suhyeok says, crossing his legs. He starts to list the pet names off on his fingers when he feels the bed dip, fingers pressing on the nape of his neck and a pair of soft lips pressing against his, silencing him. A flustered sounding laugh is drawn from him when Cheongsan pulls away to look at him. “What was that?” 

“You wouldn’t shut up, so I had to do something about it,” Cheongsan mumbles, face remaining close.

“You could shut me up any other way, you know?” Suhyeok asks, cupping his jaw. “You didn’t have to shut me up this way, but you chose to shut me up this way, which leads me to believe you’re somewhat addicted to kissing me.” His hand falls away from Cheongsan’s face when the other sits back on his heels, increasing the distance between them.

“That’s not… Don’t read into it too much, you’re only going to end up disappointed,” Cheongsan says, climbing off the bed. He halts when Suhyeok catches him by the wrist. 

“Are you really going to sleep on the floor again?” Suhyeok questions, unable to keep the frown off his face; out of his voice. 

“No,” Cheongsan says. “I was going to grab my pillow, because I’m not keen on sleeping on the floor for the second night in a row,” he explains. His eyes flicker down to Suhyeok’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “But in order for me to do that, you’ll have to let go of me.”

Letting out an embarrassed cough, Suhyeok does as he’s told. When Cheongsan climbs back onto the bed, fluffing up his pillow, Suhyeok reaches out to tug at the hem of his shirt. “Why’d you change your mind?”

“Just because,” Cheongsan answers, slipping under the covers. He looks comfortable and snuggled up; Suhyeok has to resist the urge to kiss him on the forehead. It’s a bit too domestic, and it might scare him away like it did on the train when he kissed his temple, and that’s the last thing he wants.

“That’s not an answer,” Suhyeok says. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.” Cheongsan closes his eyes, which Suhyeok’s pretty sure is his way of telling him he’s not open to converse about his change of mind any further. 

“We wouldn’t have had to go through all of that grief if you did this the first night,” Suhyeok says, slipping in next to him. 

With eyes still closed, Cheongsan flips him the bird. 

Suhyeok laughs. 

When they wake up, Cheongsan’s clinging onto Suhyeok like his life depends on it (not that Suhyeok’s complaining about it). It isn’t until Gyeongsu comes barging in, rambling about their plans for the day and telling them to “get their lazy butts up” does Cheongsan — very reluctantly, Suhyeok notes — separate from him. 

They spend the first half of their third day at a nearby hot spring. Suhyeok’s feeling much more energised than he did yesterday, which is a very welcome change. The rest of the afternoon is spent with them doing their own thing. Namra and Onjo stay locked in their room, while Gyeongsu’s chilling on the couch with a book in hand, stressing to Cheongsan and Suhyeok that he must not be disturbed. 

“Like anyone’s going to disturb him,” Cheongsan mumbles as they make their way back to their own room. “What should we do?” he asks. “Are we going to spend the rest of the day sitting in silence?”

“Well, I was thinking we could do a bit of sunset watching by the beach,” Suhyeok says. “You know, like I had planned before Gyeongsu suggested this retreat?” he reminds when Cheongsan shoots him a confused look.

That seems to resolve his confusion. “Oh,” Cheongsan says, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I almost forgot about that.” He says that like it’s an admission of guilt and Suhyeok finds it so incredibly endearing, like everything else he does. “Sorry, I just— I was preoccupied with everything that happened yesterday, so it kind of slipped my mind.”

Tittering softly, Suhyeok says, “That’s why I’m here to remind you. Let’s go?” 

Cheongsan smiles and nods. “Let’s.” 

—

When they arrive, the first thing Suhyeok does is find a bench to sit on, unwilling to get sand on his pants. 

Cheongsan settles down next to him. “You think they’ll get mad for not inviting them out with us?”

“Honestly? No. Gyeongsu’s busy reading his book and Namra and Onjo are doing god knows what; they haven’t come out of their room since we came back from the hot spring.” 

“That could be us,” Cheongsan sings, laughing when Suhyeok shoots him a pointed look. “I say that with the most innocent intentions.”

“Sure,” drawls out Suhyeok, stomach dipping a little. Innocent intentions? Oh, if only he knew. 

They lapse into comfortable silence. The distant sound of waves crashing against rock walls, birds squawking overhead and the tang of salt from the sea fills his senses. He closes his eyes, letting himself relax, only reopening them when he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and Cheongsan’s excited voice washing over the other noises around them. “Look, the sun’s setting!” 

Suhyeok leans back slightly. He glances over when he feels a weight on his shoulder and sees Cheongsan leaning his head on his shoulder. He smiles and looks away, out into the sunset, enjoying the yellow-orangey hue of the sky as the sun continues to dip, slowly, behind the horizon. Their hands find each other’s, fingers linking neatly. He really likes this, just sitting here and enjoying the view with the other boy.

“It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” Cheongsan asks, softly.

Suhyeok sneaks another glance at him, gets a little lost when he ends up staring. “Yeah,” he says as he gathers his bearings, sounding breathless. “Yeah, it’s… It’s beautiful.” 

After a while of him enjoying Cheongsan’s presence and Cheongsan being completely mesmerised by the sunset, too wrapped up to spare a glance in his direction, he finally speaks up. “I kind of want to go into the water.” 

The soft orange glow remains even as the sun sinks further down, laying to rest for the day. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Suhyeok questions, “Right now?”

“Yeah, right now.” 

Suhyeok looks down at his feet, clad in sandals, then back at Cheongsan. Neither of them are wearing the correct outfit to be fooling around in the ocean, but it’s Cheongsan, and he’s also somewhat in love with said boy. So, instead of saying something rational, like denying them the chances of getting their jeans and shirts wet, he lets slip a, “Sure.” 

It’s Cheongsan, and he can’t say no when it comes to him. He’s really got to work on that.

Then, he’s being urged up, and he’s barely rolled his jeans up, with a prayer to god they won’t get wet, when he’s being tugged towards the water. Their laughter and shouts echo into the night settling in around them, sand slipping under their feet with each step they take, before the ground underneath becomes more solid as they reach the shore. He halts just before his feet sink into the ice cold water, looking outwards into the ocean where Cheongsan’s already ankle deep in the water. 

Hands cupped around his mouth, Cheongsan calls out, “What are you doing? Come here!”

Suhyeok squints at him from where he stands. “Is it too late to back out now?”

“I mean, the word ‘loser’ does suit you quite a bit,” Cheongsan comments as he retreats further into the water, a mischievous grin on his lips, beckoning Suhyeok to come closer. 

“Did you just call me a loser?” Suhyeok questions, taking slow steps into the water. It’s unpleasantly cold, but it’s too late to go back now; he’s picking up speed as he makes a beeline for Cheongsan, sinking deeper into the water with each step. “You come back here right now, you little shit!” he shouts as Cheongsan whips around and flees from him. 

Their laughter and yells mingle in the night air, with Cheongsan splashing water onto Suhyeok whenever he gets a little too close, leaving Suhyeok without a defence strategy because he’d end up busying himself with checking how wet his jeans and shirt have gotten. 

By the time Suhyeok finally catches him around the waist, Cheongsan’s laughed himself silly, breaths coming out in shallow puffs. “Ha! I’ve caught you,” Suhyeok huffs out as Cheongsan continues to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Cheongsan says, chuckles in between. He turns around to face Suhyeok, leaning a little onto him for support. “If you weren’t so fussy, you would have caught me way sooner,” he adds, still sounding out of breath. His expression softens considerably. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“Yeah, well, you can’t exactly run when you’re in the sea. And now I’m all wet because of you,” Suhyeok mumbles, distractedly, eyes shamelessly raking over his face.

“Those two things don’t really correlate.”

“I’m just stating separate facts,” Suhyeok retorts, raising a brow when he feels Cheongsan’s fingers digging into his waist, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt to pull him forward towards him. “What are you doing?” he asks, voice growing hoarse, their faces now inches away from each other’s.  

“I honestly don’t know; it feels like I’m playing part in some over-hyped romantic comedy, and everything feels so fucking surreal but I really, really want to kiss you right now.” 

“Oh?” Suhyeok breathes out. “Then why don’t you just go for it?”

“Because… I don’t know if that’s what you want? I mean, I’m kind of just restraining myself really hard here, but I also kind of like it when you kiss me first and I just—”

“You could have just said that; I would have happily obliged,” Suhyeok murmurs, then he’s pressing his lips against Cheongsan’s, hand coming up to gently cup his neck (he has come to realise he might have a bit of an obsession with his neck, maybe because he’s so sensitive there; whenever Suhyeok touches or kisses him there, it never fails to elicit a response from him).

It’s a sweet one, and Suhyeok finds himself slowly unravelling under the tightening grasp of Cheongsan’s hand on his waist; under the familiar press of gentle but firm fingers against the nape of his neck, while Cheongsan melts against him. Not even a second after he pulls away, Cheongsan’s chasing his lips for another kiss.

Then another one.

Then a fourth one.

Like he can’t get enough; like he can never get enough. 

Like he can never get enough of Suhyeok. 

The air is cool around them, but Suhyeok feels so, so warm, and that might be because his heart is racing against his chest and Cheongsan’s kissing him like he’s the breath of fresh air he’s needed all this time, which he is perfectly fine with. He loses count on how many times they kiss, most of them soft pecks, the last of them lingering on Cheongsan’s neck, but he does enjoy the sight of Cheongsan’s kiss bitten lips and pink-tinted cheeks when he separates from him. 

“Suhyeok,” Cheongsan says, breathily, looking up at him through his lashes. Suhyeok could feel something in him drop, a knot in his stomach forming. His grip on Cheongsan’s waist tightens. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fucking shit. Why is he so… Oh god. 

“It’s getting cold,” he says, so quietly Suhyeok’s not sure if he’s heard him correctly. The distant crashing of waves doesn’t help. 

“Yeah, it is,” Suhyeok answers, hoping to god he’s heard him right and hadn’t just made a complete fool out of himself.

Cheongsan’s fingers are still curled into his hair at the base of his neck, and the way he’s looking at Suhyeok is so familiar, yet hard to place. “Should we go back?” 

Something inside Suhyeok jolts as he hears Cheongsan’s voice; as he makes the connection. Their third kiss. The one he could never get out of his head no matter how hard he tried. That look in his eyes. He bumps forehead with Cheongsan, gently. “Please,” he says, voice hoarse, just barely above a whisper. “God, please, yes. Let’s go.” 

—

They try not to make too much noise when they enter the cabin, soft laughter and giggles on the tip of their tongues, inadvertently spilling out of their mouths. Suhyeok’s not sure how they even made it back here in one piece; they weren’t able to keep their hands off each other, and the journey took much longer than when they made their way to the beach mere hours ago. It doesn’t matter though, because they’ve made it back, and no one is around to witness them tripping over each other to get to their room like two sober-but-drunken idiots. 

The door has barely closed, lock clicking into place, when Suhyeok has Cheongsan pressed up against the door, kissing down his jaw, dragging his lips down the column of his neck. It elicits a soft ‘fuck’ from Cheongsan, and it’s enough of a sign for Suhyeok to know he’s doing the right thing. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he’s aware of the fact that this is probably not a good idea (he hasn’t made the best choices in life ever since he started fake dating Cheongsan but that’s a story for another day, which he’s unwilling to tell), but he really doesn’t have many fucks left to give, and having Cheongsan where he is right now makes it hard for him to stop, to pull away; to think rationally. Rational thinking is the last thing he can do right now, not with Cheongsan looking and sounding like this, every noise and sound and movement sending his stomach jolting. 

“Suhyeok, please,” Cheongsan breathes out, fingers twisted tightly in his hair, a noise of content falling from his lips when Suhyeok kisses the crook of his neck, soft at first. Okay, so maybe Cheongsan’s tendency to card his fingers through Suhyeok’s hair is yet another thing he really, really likes; another small obsession. So small, yet it messes with Suhyeok’s brain, big time. A soft whimper follows when Suhyeok nips at his skin, gentle and playful, leaving a mark to bloom on the spot. 

“Try not to make so much noise; we don’t know how thin the walls are,” he says, voice muffled against his skin. 

He breathes out a laugh when Cheongsan answers that with a flustered sounding, “Shut up, oh my god. I do not need to be reminded that we have a potential audience.”

Suhyeok pulls away to look at him, pretty pink cheeks and so, so close. “You’re just so easy to rile up. Look at you right now,” he teases, not even trying to keep the want out of his voice. 

Cheongsan wraps his arms around his neck. “Tell me you want to be kicked without telling me you want to be kicked.”

“You were so keen at the beach, what happened?” Suhyeok asks, tittering. His laughter is cut short when Cheongsan reels him in for another kiss. He could really get used to being shut up like this.

They stumble back onto the bed, and it’s a miracle their lips remain connected through this entire ordeal, only for Cheongsan to break the kiss to stare down at Suhyeok in slight mortification, eyes wider than usual. It’s a bit awkward for him to suddenly stop, because he’s straddling Suhyeok’s hips and Suhyeok’s hands are gripping onto his waist, shirt halfway unbuttoned thanks to Cheongsan’s quick working fingers. For a second, Suhyeok wonders if he’s done something wrong; maybe Cheongsan’s just seeing how much of a mistake this might end up being? He fucked up, didn’t he? He fucked up. He fucked up really bad. Oh god. This isn’t good—

“I forgot my fucking shoes at the beach,” Cheongsan says, loudly, into the silence. His eyes flicker up to meet Suhyeok’s, who’s staring up at him in disbelief (and relief), before he bursts out laughing; laughing till his sides ache. “It’s not funny! I can’t believe I left my shoes there. What is wrong with me? Who the fuck realises that after the fact?” Cheongsan questions. “How did it not even register that I didn’t have my shoes on?” 

“You are honestly the biggest dork out there,” Suhyeok says, cupping his cheeks. “God, you’re so dumb. So stupid.”

“They cost me a week of my paycheck,” Cheongsan responds with a groan, visibly upset. “So I’m sorry if I’m making a fuss over it, but they were quite expensive.” 

“Look, we’ll go back and get your shoes later, okay? You can borrow my spare sandals for the meantime.” 

“I’m such an idiot.” Cheongsan sighs, leaning forward and burying his face on the crook of Suhyeok’s neck, hugging him around the middle, the familiar fragrance of his cucumber wash filing Suhyeok’s senses. That, and the smell of the ocean clinging onto him. Suhyeok absentmindedly cards his fingers through his hair, fingers twisting gently in his soft locks. “I forgot my shoes, and now I’ve completely ruined the mood. Good god.” His voice is muffled against Suhyeok’s skin, breath warm, sending tingles along his skin and down his spine. 

Good god, indeed. 

“I mean, yeah, you did kind of ruin the mood”—he chuckles when Cheongsan grumbles his protests into his neck—“but we’ve got all the time in the world, so don’t sweat about it too much,” Suhyeok reassures, rubbing circles onto Cheongsan’s back. “We can circle back to this later if you wanted to.” 

There’s a drawn out moment of silence until Cheongsan lifts his head up from his neck to look down at Suhyeok. “I’m sorry,” he says, sitting up slightly, hands pressing down onto the sheets, on either side of Suhyeok’s head. “We were just…” His cheeks flushes a darker shade of red, like he only just realised what they were getting up to. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“Weird how?”

“This position we’re in.”

Suhyeok grins up at him, lazily. “I personally don’t see how it’s weird. We’ve been in this position plenty of times before.”

“Yeah, but not with those intentions,” he says. It only occurs to Suhyeok Cheongsan’s acting like this because he’s most likely shy about it — which is funny, because he was so confident just then — and it only makes him adore him even more. 

(And it makes him fall in love a little more, but no one needs to know that.)

“You’re honestly so cute,” Suhyeok says, affectionately, brushing his thumb across the blooming hickey he’s temporarily imprinted on Cheongsan’s skin. His lips flicker into a smile, dragging his eyes back up to meet Cheongsan’s. 

Cheongsan opens his mouth, then closes it; he catches Suhyeok’s hand in his, expression shifting into a more serious one. “Suhyeok, I…” He swallows, growing visibly nervous. His grip around Suhyeok’s hand tightens, indicating his nervousness. Suhyeok regards him, patiently, waiting for him to say his piece. “I can’t be the only one who thinks all of this has been way too— too real.” A shaky breath leaves his lips as he awaits Suhyeok’s answer. 

Brain short-circuiting at the worst moment possible, Suhyeok blinks up at him, breath caught in his throat. He can only manage to croak out a weak sounding, “What?” after a moment of silence, in which Cheongsan’s so obviously jittery with nerves. 

“This whole thing,” Cheongsan says, an edge of vulnerability in the way he speaks. “Everything we’ve done so far, up until this moment. It feels… Real. Like, so much of it isn’t something you’d do when you’re fake dating someone.” He winces a little, and Suhyeok silently notes how this is the first time he has witnessed Cheongsan showing some kind of negative reaction to those two words paired together. “Fuck, it’s not even something you would do with someone you think of as a friend.”

Suhyeok’s grip tightens on his waist.

“Because I really don’t think friends do this. Friends don’t kiss like we do, for starters.” There goes the flicker in his eyes, and it’s only now that Suhyeok understands what it means; what that small flicker means. All these moments they’ve shared come pouring to the forefront of his mind — the ones from before this whole ordeal, and the ones that happened during this ordeal — and he wonders just how stupid he has been to not have seen the signs. Everything makes sense. He hasn’t been reading into things wrong. “It’s not just me who’s been feeling this way, right?” His voice grows quiet, careful, like he’s worried he’s said the wrong thing. 

Like he’s scared him being open like this is going to backfire on him and hurt him. 

Yeah, Suhyeok wants to say. Yeah, I’ve been feeling the same way for way too long, you don’t even know.

Instead, for whatever fucked up reason, his brain completely shuts down on him, panic gripping at him from every corner. His mind tries to rationalise this as Cheongsan’s way of testing him, so instead of saying what he actually wants to say; before his brain could catch up, his mouth stutters out an, “Um, well, uh— I don’t know.” A nervous exhale — or maybe it’s laughter, he’s not sure which it is — leaves him. “A lot of this has felt pretty platonic to me. I mean, we have been doing this for a long time so… Y’know. Shit happens. Lines get blurred.” 

…Where the hell are his brakes when he fucking needs them? 

A painful stretch of silence follows after that, and it only really strikes him what foul lies have come out of his mouth when Cheongsan recoils from him like he’s been burned, expression morphing into one of which Suhyeok can’t read. What he knows is that he’s distant, closed off — hard to reach. The flicker behind his eyes is gone, replaced with something reserved; cold. “Oh,” he says, voice worryingly calm. “Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He exhales a short laugh, clambering off of Suhyeok. “So I guess that’s where we stand.” 

Suhyeok sits up, shivering slightly at the sudden loss of warmth. Say something, you fucking buffoon. He manages a weak sounding, “Cheongsan—”

“No, it’s fine, I get it.” Still that calm voice, expression neutral. The visible swallow he does tells Suhyeok otherwise. “You’re right. Shit happens.” 

“Wait, no, I—”

“I think I should go.” Cheongsan’s not listening to him.

“Go?” Suhyeok repeats. “Go where?”’

“I don’t know. Maybe Gyeongsu will have space in his room. There’s also the couch, if his room is not the best option.” 

“Cheongsan, wait, please—” He’s not given much of a chance to finish his sentence because Cheongsan’s already rounding the bed to grab a pillow, and when he reaches out, desperately trying to grab a hold of him, Cheongsan dodges him swiftly. 

A soft sounding “Good night” is the last thing he hears before the door clicks shut, leaving him to wonder how one can fuck up this badly. 

—

After laying there for what seems like hours, he finally drags himself out of bed.

About fifteen minutes later, much of it filled with aimless walking and his thoughts ringing louder than anything else around him, he finds himself back at the beach, with Cheongsan’s shoes dangling in his hands. The night has completely set in, blanketing the sky dark, with stars winking down at him. The cool ocean breeze washes over him gently. He stands there, feeling pretty sorry for himself. Less than an hour ago, they were out here, laughing and yelling, yet it already feels like a distant memory. He only snaps out of it when a loud squawk sounds above him. Taking a look at his watch, he realises it’s getting late and he should make his way back to the cabin.When he gets back, he makes a beeline for Gyeongsu’s room; Cheongsan’s not on the couch, so this is the only possible place he could be right now. He raises a fist, ready to knock on the door, but something stops him. 

He’s probably not ready to talk to you. 

Awkwardly, he slips his hand into his pocket instead and bends down to place the shoes neatly in front of the door. He lingers there for a few seconds before he trudges back to his room. 

He wakes up the next morning, not knowing how he was able to fall asleep; thinking, just maybe, what happened last night was all a nightmare. That once he rolls over, Cheongsan would be sleeping soundly next to him. Instead, he’s greeted with a Cheongsan-less side of the bed, sheets next to him cold and unslept on. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes. It takes a few more moments before it fully hits him that Cheongsan isn’t in their room, and that he had fucked up badly last night — truly, royally, fucked up. His stomach twists unpleasantly at the unwanted reminder. 

He knows he has to talk to Cheongsan in order to make things right, but that’s proving to be difficult when Cheongsan wouldn’t even look at him or acknowledge his presence when he enters the kitchen later that day. “San-ah,” he tries, seeing him sitting at the kitchen table, on his phone, a half-eaten piece of toast sitting on a plate in front of him.

“Good morning,” Gyeongsu’s voice sounds out as he strolls into the kitchen after Suhyeok.

Cheongsan finally looks up, and Suhyeok notices how puffy his face is, eyes redder than usual. His heart twists in his chest, knowing for a fact he might have very well been the reason behind that. 

Gyeongsu’s eyes flicker over to him, a frown taking over his face as he considers him. It doesn’t take a genius to guess he probably knows what had happened; that Cheongsan had slept in his room last night and told him about what happened.

“I’m going to pack up,” Cheongsan mutters, then he’s slipping past Suhyeok and into their room, without sparing a glance in Suhyeok’s direction. 

Suhyeok makes to go after him, but he’s stopped by a firm grip around his elbow. He twists around and sees Gyeongsu staring up at him, lips pursed in slight disapproval. “Suhyeok, don’t. Not now. He’s not going to take anything you say very well, so just… Talk to him later.” 

“But—”

“Trust me, you won’t get anywhere with him when he’s like this. I know him well enough to know that.”

Exhaling softly, he leans against the countertop. “I…” He breathes out. “I fucked up.” 

Nodding in solemn agreement, Gyeongsu says, “Yeah, I’ve heard. You really fucked up, and I’m not on your side for this one.” He exhales through his nose. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? Why would you... God, you fumbled, and really badly at that.”

“I didn’t— I panicked. Out of everything I could have done, I fucking panicked when he told me that this— and then I just… Yeah, what the hell is wrong with me?” He rakes his fingers through his hair, heaving out a sigh. 

Gyeongsu regards him with a look of pity, but doesn’t say anything else. 

As if on cue, Onjo trudges into the kitchen, followed closely by Namra. “Good morning,” she says, making a beeline for the cupboards, oblivious to the look on Gyeongsu’s face and the visible distress Suhyeok’s in. 

Namra, however, is sharper in this regard. “Did something happen?” she asks, glancing over at Suhyeok. When Suhyeok doesn’t answer her, she looks over at Gyeongsu, head tilted.

“That’s not really my story to tell,” he says. He looks at Suhyeok. “I’m going to check up on him.” 

When Gyeongsu disappears into Suhyeok and Cheongsan’s shared room, Namra turns to Suhyeok again, an expectant brow raised. “So?”

“Shit happened,” he mumbles, without meeting her eyes. “Shit that’s my fault, because I apparently have the tendency to fuck up every good thing going on.” 

—

The train ride home has Suhyeok sitting alone, dwelling in his own thoughts. Every time he glances over his shoulder to the next aisle, a couple of rows back, he would see Gyeongsu and Cheongsan whispering amongst themselves. Or, they would be laughing, and Cheongsan would lean his head on his shoulder because he’s laughing way too hard over something Gyeongsu’s telling him. 

This shit? This shit sucks absolute ass; that could be him Cheongsan’s laughing with, if he hadn’t gone and screwed everything up. A sigh leaves his lips as he sinks further into the comforts of his seat, eyes sliding closed. 

At one point, Namra sits next to him, trying to engage him in a conversation, but he waves her off with an, “I’m fine”, even though it’s clear as day he isn’t fine. He ends up sleeping the train ride off.

When they arrive at the station, Suhyeok finds his dad and Cheongsan’s mum engaged in a conversation at the exit. Swallowing every negative feeling down, he makes a beeline for his dad, luggage in tow. His dad had called him late last night, asking him about “the sudden change of plans.” When he asked for an explanation because he was entirely clueless on what “the change of plans” was supposed to be about, he was briefed on how Cheongsan had text his mum, asking her to pick him up, instead of having Suhyeok’s dad drive him home like they had agreed on a few days ago. So… Yeah. There’s that. It’s really amazing, knowing just how much Cheongsan doesn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not that any of this is Cheongsan’s fault, but still. Surely he’s allowed to feel bitter about it? “Dad!” he calls out, approaching him with tentative steps. His dad turns to look at him, a smile descending upon his face at the sight of him. 

“Suhyeok,” he greets when he finally reaches him. “How was the trip?”

Suhyeok nods, faking a smile he hopes is somewhat convincing. “Never had a nicer trip than this.” From his peripheral, he could see Cheongsan’s mum hugging Cheongsan as a form of greeting, and when he looks over, he sees Cheongsan hugging her around the middle. He manages a real smile this time around, despite himself.

After bidding his friends farewell — save for Cheongsan, because he was busy talking to Onjo and again, wouldn’t acknowledge him when he approached them — they set off to his dad’s car. 

His head is elsewhere, ticking off the many ways he could grovel for forgiveness, when his dad draws him out of his thoughts. “Did you guys fight?” 

Suhyeok’s head snaps over to his dad. “What?” 

“I may not be the most observant person out there, but I noticed he didn’t seem to want to talk to you,” he explains. “Didn’t even say a bye to you when you left. It would explain why he wanted his mum to pick him up instead.” 

“We didn’t fight,” Suhyeok lies through his teeth, grip tightening around the handle on his luggage. White lies don’t hurt, white lies don’t hurt, white lies don’t hurt. Except white lies aren’t the only things he’s told. “He just… He was busy talking to Onjo. I didn’t want to interrupt them.” 

“And yet Onjo said bye to you,” he observes. “Look, I’m not going to force you to tell me what happened, but if you need to talk, just know I’m here. Even though I’m not the best listener out there, I will admit. So maybe your mum would be a better option.” He chuckles lightly. 

Suhyeok nods, smiling slightly. “Yeah,” he says, quietly, infinitely glad to have such supportive people in his life. “I know.” 

It’s weird, adjusting to a life where he doesn’t exist to the one person he wants to sit down with and just… Have a talk with. He’s come to realise how these few months have consisted of their lives circling around each other’s; how Cheongsan has always been a constant in his life, prior to this. Now that that’s not the case anymore, it’s hard to get used to. It’s been a week since their retreat ended, so it hasn’t been that long, but Suhyeok misses Cheongsan. The last “fight” they had (if he can even call it that) consisted of them not talking to each other for a day. That was also the longest fight they’ve had. And it happened during their first year of university. So… That should say a lot.

Every single one of his messages have been left on delivered, his calls screened. They haven’t been meeting up after their classes have finished, mainly because it seems like Cheongsan has been leaving his lectures early to avoid him. 

Saturday night, when he arrives at Gyeongsu’s home a bit later than usual (maybe Cheongsan will be there early?), Namra and Onjo are already there, huddled in a corner and laughing over something he has no interest in knowing. He looks around and sees no Cheongsan in sight.

“There’s no use looking around. He text me and said he won’t be coming.”

His eyes fall on Gyeongsu who has paused on choosing a movie from the long list he has curated, in favour of looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s accusing him of committing a felony. 

“You wouldn’t have come and you would have stayed at home, moping about.” Gyeongsu sighs, standing up. “Look, I’m sure he will come around soon enough.”

“…Has he been talking to you?”

“Yeah, but when I try bringing your name up and he just… Kind of shuts me down. But hey, that doesn’t mean all hope is lost.”

Suhyeok sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s been leaving me on delivered for the past week and has been screening my calls. I just… How am I supposed to fix this if he doesn’t even want to talk to me?”

“Then I guess you’ll have to make him talk to you.”

Suhyeok blinks. “Like… Force him?” he asks. He doesn’t like the sound of forcing Cheongsan to do anything; it’s also not in his nature to force people to do things, much less force them to talk to him. That, and the fact that Cheongsan’s not exactly someone who can be forced to do something, being the hardheaded person he is.

“Well, if push comes to shove, then yeah, that’s really the only option you’ve got.”

Shaking his head, Suhyeok folds his arms over his chest. “No way. That’s not happening. I…” He tries to come up with an argument to justify his opposition towards this idea, but he can’t come up with anything, so instead, he presses his lips into a thin line. 

“You could always try staying outside of his apartment until he lets you in.”

For a second, Suhyeok does contemplate on that, but then he shakes his head vigorously. “What the fuck? No way, that’s… Weird.”

Gyeongsu grins, lighthearted. “Don’t lie — you were thinking about it for a second there.” He reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, lips softening into a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll find a way. He’ll eventually have to talk to you, or he runs the risk of losing someone who’s clearly important to him.”

“Important?” Suhyeok repeats, unable to keep the gloom out of his voice. He frowns, a lump forming in his throat. This has been happening so frequently these days, it’s starting to get really annoying. “I think I’ve become the least important, honestly.”

But he does hope (which is probably the worst thing for him to do right now).

The next week is not much different, and Suhyeok’s no closer to getting used to it. 

Which sucks really badly.

The only differences crops up in the form of his habits: eating less, sleeping more, shutting his friends out. His parents did try to talk to him, but he refused to divulge into any details, because that would mean dredging up the shit that has happened for them to get to this point and honestly, that’s the last thing he wants to do.

There was one point when Cheongsan did read his messages, but he suspected that was an accident; one of those “clicked the notification by accident and now I’m forced to read their messages and leave them on seen” type of situation. He never ended up replying, so that only confirmed his suspicions.  

He’s also regretting this fake dating bullshit idea, big time. 

Saturday night rolls around and he ends up skipping movie night altogether, ignoring the resulting messages blowing up his phone.

Sunday night, being their date night, ends up with him locked up in his room, with the excuse of “too many assignments due” barricading him from any potential questions from his parents. He knows they’re worried about him, but he has no energy to put on a fake smile tonight, acting like shit’s fine; like Cheongsan doesn’t hate him; like he isn’t more than just a little heartbroken, even though none of this is — was — real to begin with. The feelings are real, though, so maybe that’s where the hurt stems from. Anyway, it’s not like his excuse is a lie; he is currently sitting in his room, at his laptop, attempting (and failing) to start an assignment for one of his subjects, but all he can do is stare at the cursor blinking back at him on a blank page, as if taunting him.

“Fuck,” he groans loudly, face falling into his hands. Maybe he should take on Gyeongsu’s advice and show up at Cheongsan’s door and then… And then what? Actually stay at his front door until Cheongsan decides to let him in? His parents would absolutely not approve of that. Or maybe they’ll let him in out of pity? Maybe he can use the fact that they seem to really like him as leverage.

...Or maybe Cheongsan’s told them everything and now they hate him, so he runs the risk of facing their wrath if he does that.

As he thinks up of the many scenarios that could happen, his phone buzzes loudly on his desk, startling him out of his thoughts. He glances at his screen and sees Cheongsan’s name — with a heart next to it; he doesn’t remember when he added that but it’s there, and he’s never gotten rid of it since — popping up, and ends up completely overlooking the preview of the message, because he’s way too focused on the fact that Cheongsan’s messaged him after two weeks of radio silence. And he messaged him first, instead of vice versa. It’s enough to get his heart racing, stomach tightening anxiously, and his brain to go into complete overdrive. 

He picks his phone up with shaky hands and taps into his messages, and there Cheongsan’s name sits, at the very top of his screen, a blue dot next to it. When he clicks into their messages, his heart sinks to the pits of his stomach, throat constricting. 

What?

cheongsan:

(20:49) i’ve been thinking about this for the past two weeks

(20:49) but i think we should end this

More typing on Cheongsan’s end. Suhyeok stares at the animated bubble, willing himself to shut his phone off. (He doesn’t.)

cheongsan:

(20:50) we’ve been doing this for long enough, and we did agree to do this for a few months only

(20:50) i wanted to say let’s break up, but it’s not like we were actually ever together so..

(20:51) i’m just..

(20:51) i’m tired of pretending.

Suhyeok swallows, and it feels like he made the bad decision of swallowing a whole bunch of lead, because everything feels so fucking heavy. 

cheongsan:

(20:51) i’m sorry.  

He tries calling him, but his call doesn’t go through. They don’t go through the second or the third time, either, flying straight to his voicemail. He’s fully aware of how Cheongsan isn’t going to answer him if he messages him instead, but he still tries, anyway. 

suhyeok:

(20:56) cheongsan, you can’t be serious about this

(20:56) please tell me this is a joke.

(20:57) i understand i fucked up big time

(20:57) but can we please talk so i can at least explain myself?

(20:57) please, i don’t want us to end like this

Cheongsan doesn’t end up replying to him. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, staring at his screen, which has turned off with how long he’s been inactive on it.

A knock sounds at his door, in which he only faintly registers, the white noises in his brain overpowering any other noises made externally, then the door opens. “Suhyeok? I’ve sliced up some fruit up for you.” As if moving on autopilot, he nods his head, but his movements are so minuscule he might as well not have nodded at all. “Suhyeok?” 

He feels a gentle touch on his shoulder, and it’s only then does he look up and he sees his mum hovering next to the bed. “What?” he asks, dazedly, feeling a sense of numbness settling deep within his bones, the dull ache in his chest expanding and making it hard for him to breathe.

“I’ve cut some fruit up for you,” she repeats gently, setting the plate on his nightstand. 

“Oh. Yeah, I will eat them later. Thanks,” he says flatly, eyes drawing down to his phone again. He feels the bed sinking next to him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, choosing to burn holes into his blank phone screen, willing it to buzz and light up. Just... Something, anything, to indicate that this is some sort of a prank. That Cheongsan doesn't mean any of that. He sees her shift on the spot in his peripheral.

“You know,” she says, slowly, “I’ve been thinking; maybe we should invite Cheongsan”—Suhyeok’s head snaps up at the mention of his name, suspiciously quickly—“over for dinner sometime soon? I mean, it’s been some time since he’s come over and we kind of miss him.” She smiles. “He’s a joy to be around.”

Suhyeok swallows, thickly. The mere mention of Cheongsan’s name makes him cave and completely break, emotions rushing to the tip of his tongue, spilling right out of him. “Mum,” Suhyeok says, chest tightening rapidly. He sees the way she’s looking at him, patiently, and he wishes she wouldn’t look at him like that because it’s making it so much worse. “Mum, I—” His breath hitches in his throat; he swallows around the lump forming, but it doesn’t want to leave him alone, persistent as all hell.

Fuck’s sake, this isn’t the time. 

“I don’t know how to…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice falling to a whisper. 

She blinks, tilting her head in confusion. “Sorry for what? Do you not want to invite him over for dinner? That’s not something you need to apologise for, you know.”

Suhyeok shakes his head. “No, it’s— we’re not… Dating.” He inhales, sharply; sees the slight shift in her expression, a frown pulling her brows together, and feels even more guilty for lying to her all this time. “None of this is real, it’s— it’s all fake.” He thought saying that to someone (who didn’t already know of their stupid ploy) would have alleviated the burden of the fact that he and Cheongsan were not really a thing to begin with, but it only makes him feel worse, to say this out loud; to put it into words he can’t take back. “Well, at least it was fake. We’ve… We’ve fake broken up? Just then. It happened just then. He… He broke up with me. Who am I kidding? It’s not even a breakup because it wasn’t even real,” he babbles, clenching his jaw for a second. “I don’t know… I just…” he trails off, not knowing what to add to that. “I feel stupid.”

His mum’s eyes widen slightly. “What?” she asks, prompting an elaboration Suhyeok was not so sure he could give to her without sounding like a complete, bumbling idiot — which is not far from what he’s currently feeling, given the situation. 

“We’re not together. Not in that way, anyway.” It takes him a painful pause to correct himself, “Weren’t, at least, because it’s past tense now. We lied. Well, I— it’s not his fault. It never was. Please don't get mad at him; this is completely on me. I told — begged — him to be my fake boyfriend because I initially wanted to get the people who kept asking why I wasn’t interested in dating anyone off my back, and I— my idiot self thought it was a good idea at first, except none of my ideas are ever good and this one proves me right. But it was good for a while, because it worked, mum. It worked so well. We had… We had people fooled.” His voice cracks with emotions undealt with. 

“But then I think it worked too well because at some point, I even fooled myself and now I— I like him, mum. I really, really like him. I like him so much, and I mean”—he gesticulates uselessly with his hands, as if that’s going to help him explain this better—“I think I’ve liked him for a long time now, way before this; before this whole thing even started, but— but I fucked up, and now we’re no longer even…” He chokes on his words. The dull ache in his chest won’t fucking go away; it’s so, so irritating. It’s like a lingering cough, but ten times worse. “He wouldn’t even talk to me and I just feel so fucking pathetic and stupid for even thinking this could— that this could—” He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until his mum cups his face and wipes his cheeks with her thumbs. Silently, she wraps him into a hug, hand cradling the back of his head. He feels pretty pathetic, sobbing into his mum’s shoulder over something like this, but he hugs her back none-the-less and full on bawls into her shirt when she rubs circles on his back. All the pent-up emotions have led to this, and he’s got no one to blame but himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” his mum says, softly, after a while. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s going to be fine.”'

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Suhyeok sobs through his tears. “These feelings are so much bigger than me, and I don’t— I don’t know where to start with handling them. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and now I’ve just— I’ve lost him. I’ve fucking lost him, because I’m a complete idiot. What the fuck is wrong with me, screwing up the best thing that's happened to me?"  

She pulls away to look at him, cradling his tear-stained cheeks in her hands. “Honey. Look at me. How are you so sure you’ve lost him if you haven’t even talked to him in person?” Suhyeok stares at her, shaking his head as she speaks. “Because trust me, I’ve noticed the fact that you guys have not been in contact with each other, which is why I brought inviting him over up, though it seems like I couldn’t have done it at a worser time. His mum called me the other day, because she was worried; asked me if something happened between you two.”

Suhyeok looks at her, blinking away the tears. “I—”

“Also, let me just clarify this — how do you even know you’ve”—she coughs—“screwed things up when you haven’t even talked to him about it?” 

Suhyeok blinks at her; tear drops continue to cling to his lashes, making it hard for him to see, so he roughly wipes them away with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I— I just know I did,” he says, voice cracking midway. “And I don’t think he wants to have anything to do with me, which I don’t blame him for.” 

“Not with that mentality, he won’t,” she says, softening considerably when he scrunches his brows. “Look, I don’t know how you kids deal with your feelings these days, but I can tell you, being straightforward is your best approach. Like, communication goes a long way, but it seems like there’s quite a lack of that here?” When he opens his mouth to argue, she interjects, “Now, I’m not saying you have to do it right away. It’s in your prerogative when you want to talk to him. 

“But don’t you think it’s a bit unfair for you to just assume that he doesn’t want to talk to you at all? Maybe you just need to… Reach out first. Let him know you want to sort things out. But be firm about it, too, or else it’s not going to work.” She looks at him earnestly. “I think you guys need to talk. And by that I mean, there needs to be a very long talk. I don’t like seeing you hiding away in your room, moping and being angsty. It reminds me of your early teenage years and it’s really not that fun.”

A weak scoff falls from Suhyeok’s mouth. “Angsty?” he repeats. “That is the first time I’ve heard you use that word.”

“I keep up with the times,” she says, beaming at him, visibly proud of herself. 

He laughs wetly, pulling her back into a hug, arms wrapping around her tightly. “You’re right.” He hiccups, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Thanks.” 

She chortles. “For what? Giving you motherly advice as a mother should?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, softly, squeezing him. 

They’re silent for a bit; he enjoys the way she gently sways him in her arms. It reminds him of when he was a little kid, when he would always run to her for comfort whenever something slightly inconvenient happened to him, and this is exactly what she would do in order to calm him down.

“Can you please not tell dad about this? Or Cheongsan’s parents. I just… I need some time to figure things out,” he mumbles.

“Of course I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to,” she says, patting his back. “Remember to talk to him, okay?”

Suhyeok nods, meekly, sniffling. “Yeah, I— I’ll try.” 

“Promise?” she asks, pulling away and sticking out a pinky finger. 

He eyes her, skeptically. “Mum, I can keep a promise without doing that.”

“Oh, come on,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip in an exaggerated manner, drawing a wet chuckle from Suhyeok. “My baby’s all grown up and now he doesn’t even want to do pinky promises with me; he won’t even humour me. When they say kids grow up quick, they really do mean it.” 

Rolling his eyes, but with a small smile on his lips, he links his pinky with hers. “I promise.”

…Which is why he finds himself at Cheongsan’s door on a Tuesday night, because he took the whole of Monday and most of Tuesday to prepare himself.

Now that he’s here, though, he doesn’t know what to say, even though he literally made extensive notes on how to (hopefully) make things right again. It’s like they’ve all gone down the drain and the efforts he made to make sure he doesn’t fuck this up have completely evaporated into thin air. He knocks on the door, once, twice, three times, and in the span of that one minute, he goes from wanting to run away to planting his feet firmer on the ground so he doesn’t act on it; his mum didn’t raise a coward.

Kind of.

Sort of.

(His mum did raise a coward, a coward who apparently panics and tells lies when the literal love of his life tells him, in an indirect way, that they like him. That they like him back. That the feelings are mutual. That it's fucking requited. Jesus.) 

When the door opens, his heart leaps into his throat in nervous anticipation, but then he sees Cheongsan’s mum standing there and his heart settles back in his chest.

“Oh. Hi, aunty,” he greets, awkwardly.

She stares at him for a few seconds, with an indecipherable expression, and he wonders if she’s going to tell him to leave, but then she’s pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, arms wrapped so tightly around him he finds it difficult to breathe. “Oh my god!” she says, a lilt to her voice. “It’s been so long, Suhyeok. We’ve missed you.” Her words spill with a sincerity he hasn’t had directed towards him in quite some time, and it warms him a little, to know Cheongsan’s mum doesn’t hate him.

Or maybe she’s good at acting. 

He swallows, hugging her back.

That’s a lie, unless that ‘we’ doesn’t include Cheongsan. Also, it really hasn’t been that long; though it certainly feels that way. It has been two weeks since he’s held Cheongsan in his arms while simultaneously actively holding himself back from whispering sweet nothings into his ear because he was afraid he’d say something he shouldn’t; spill something he shouldn’t. It has been two weeks since he didn’t need to act like he’s not in love with him, but he’d honestly rather that than this. So, he decides, yeah. It has been quite some time.

“Cheongsan didn’t tell me you’d be visiting,” she says, pulling away to look at him, her hands falling to his shoulders and gently clasping around them.

“Is he… Is he here right now?” he asks, glancing behind her shoulder, as if hoping he’d appear behind her out of nowhere. 

“He’s actually out with Gyeongsu,” she says, stepping aside to invite him in. “He should be back soon, though. You can come inside and wait for him if you’d like?” 

He steps back, letting her hands fall away from his shoulders. “Oh, no, I don’t want to intrude. I should— I should probably go.” He makes to turn around, but then she says—

“Suhyeok, you’re never a bother. Please don’t think that way.” He looks up at her when she exhales softly. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I hope you’re able to talk it out.” She looks like she has more to say, but she remains quiet. 

Something in Suhyeok twists, and he bites the inside of his cheeks so he doesn’t spill his guts out to her. “Same,” he resorts to saying, voice soft. “I’m hoping for that, too.” 

—

Being pampered by someone else’s mum is a whole another experience, especially when said mum is his (ex-)fake boyfriend’s mum. He’s grateful for her hospitality, he really is, but it’s just a bit… Intense. So when the front door finally unlocks an hour later (he certainly was not looking at the clock every few minutes, actively wondering when he’s going to walk through the door), something akin to dread fills his stomach. Dread, and slight relief, because Cheongsan’s mum’s already not paying as much attention to him, fussing over her son instead. Relief, because it’s been way too long since he’s seen Cheongsan in person — properly, anyway. Dread, because he’s worried Cheongsan’s going to keep shutting him out even after this (to which he would deserve, but he hopes that wouldn’t be the case).

“Mum, I’m fine,” Suhyeok hears him say, reassuringly. It’s so stupid, but he misses his voice, so much, so dearly. Cheongsan’s mum is at the door, blocking him from his view, so Suhyeok’s unable to see his face, but then she moves aside, and he sees him standing there; it’s like he can’t fucking breathe the moment his eyes land on him, feeling winded even though he hasn’t moved an inch since an hour ago. Cheongsan’s eyes flicker over to him in curiousity, probably to see who it is sitting on their couch, looking very out of place and looking mildly distressed.

For a split second, Suhyeok could see the smile on his face (the smile he misses so fucking dearly, dear god), and then it falls immediately when their eyes meet. “What is he doing here?” he asks, flicking his eyes back to his mum with a frown. 

Well, that stings.  

His mum is about to speak up, but then Suhyeok’s rising from the couch, legs feeling a little too weak for his liking. His heart thuds against his chest as he says, “I wanted to talk about”—his eyes flicker down for a second, next word caught in his throat, before drawing back up to meet Cheongsan’s—“Us.” 

Cheongsan regards him for a second, with a guarded expression; he glances back at his mum, exhales through his nose then gestures towards his room. Spinning on his heels, he trudges away from them. 

Suhyeok looks over at Cheongsan’s mum, who nods encouragingly at him, waving for him to go follow Cheongsan. So he does exactly that; he follows Cheongsan into his room. 

“Shut the door,” Cheongsan says, shrugging his jacket off and draping it over the back of his chair. 

Suhyeok does as he’s told. When he turns around, he sees Cheongsan standing there, staring back at him, arms crossed tightly over his chest and looking guarded. The urge to walk over to him and pull him into a hug overwhelms him, but he manages to resist it, planting his feet firmer on the ground, lingering at the door.

“You,” Cheongsan says, “want to talk about us?” He scoffs, disbelieving. 

“I’ve… Been wanting to talk about us ever since we got back from that trip.”

Cheongsan clenches his jaw, remaining silent for a few moments, before he speaks up again, eyes straying away from Suhyeok. “You need to quit your bullshit. Why would you want to talk about something”—his voice cracks—“that never existed in the first place?” 

He had expected something like this, but it doesn’t make it any less shitty to hear that coming from Cheongsan’s mouth. “Cheongsan—”

“Suhyeok, no. No, I don’t want to talk about us. I don’t want to talk about something that never existed, because there isn’t any point. Why would I want to remind myself that none of this meant anything to you? And it’s not like we’re together anymore. We”—he gestures between them—“were never together. Not in that way.” He sighs, perching on the edge of his bed; he sounds so tired, and something in Suhyeok’s chest clenches at his visible weariness. “I don’t… I’m so tired, pretending that I’m not— that I’m not in love with you. It sucks complete ass, and knowing that I’ve brought this on myself only makes it worse. I’ve got no one to blame but myself for agreeing to that idea of yours.”

Suhyeok’s heart stills. To hear him say that, in a context like this, is not what he would have imagined, but he selfishly wishes it wasn’t under such circumstances. 

“Pretending to be your boyfriend, day in, day out, which is something I never was, has been so draining. Because while I was able to love you in a way I never thought I could have loved you; if it wasn’t for this whole thing, it also made me crave for something that I… Could never have. And you proved me right that night. I could have done everything and none of it would have mattered to you. You don’t feel the same way, and that’s just that, I guess.” 

Something in him breaks. “Cheongsan, no— please, don’t say that,” Suhyeok says, voice barely above a whisper. He crosses the room with a few strides and kneels down in front of him, taking his hands into his. Cheongsan doesn’t shake him off, so he guesses that counts as a win. 

“But it’s true,” Cheongsan says, voice so quiet, looking like he's on the verge of tears with the way his bottom lip trembles, the waver in his voice only acting as further confirmation to Suhyeok's suspicions. He tilts his head to look up at Suhyeok, and upon closer inspection, Suhyeok immediately notices the sunken eyes, the tiredness lining his features. His grip on Cheongsan’s hands tightens considerably. “Which is why I was so opposed to fake dating you at first. Which is why I drew up those conditions when I ended up caving, because I knew things would have…” He exhales, heavily.

“I knew things would have gone awry if I hadn’t done that. But then again, it still did, so I guess none of that matters. I probably should have confessed the moment you came up with that shitty idea, but I selfishly wanted to know what it would feel like to be yours, even if it was only for a little while; even if it was ultimately fake.” He sniffs, eyes sliding shut for a second. “But then we ended up crossing so many lines, and you were okay with it, so I thought… I assumed you felt the same, which was stupid of me. I shouldn't have done that; shouldn't have assumed. Because nothing good ever comes out from assumptions.” The laugh he lets out sounds hollow, no humour or mirth behind it; it’s so unlike him, and Suhyeok hates it so much. “You kissed me like you meant it, every single time, and I guess that got into my head.”

Whatever bullet points he wrote down didn’t prepare him for this, so he reaches out to cup his neck instead. “That’s because I did mean it,” Suhyeok rushes to say, so softly he’s not sure if Cheongsan’s heard him. Judging by the way he looks at him and the shift in his expression tells him what he needs to know. “I meant it. Every single time, every single one of them. I can’t make you believe me, I know that much, but I just… I screwed up that night, and I’m sorry. I panicked when you asked me that question, and I said something that was so utterly untrue.” He swallows around the lump forming in his throat. “Everything has felt so, so real to me. You’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and I just need you to know that.”

Shaking his head, Cheongsan mumbles, “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” He’s ready to draw away from Suhyeok, but Suhyeok quickly wraps a hand around his wrist to keep him from pulling away fully. 

“I think it would be so much easier if it was a lie,” Suhyeok says, quietly. “I wish it was a lie, Cheongsan. I really wish it was, but it’s not. It's not a lie, and that's where the problem lies.” 

Cheongsan stares at him, gaze faltering when Suhyeok gazes right back with nothing but sincerity. “Suhyeok—”

“San-ah,” Suhyeok says, interrupting him. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I like you. It’s not a crush, it’s not a fleeting infatuation. I—” He inhales sharply. “God, Cheongsan,” he whispers, hoarsely. “You don’t even— I’m so fucking in love with you and I hate that I screwed up that night, because we wouldn’t be here right now, and you wouldn’t be doubting everything that has happened between us. We had something good going on, and I— I soured it. I’m sorry.”

Cheongsan blinks down at him. “You…”

Suhyeok squeezes his hand, voice soft as he continues, “You know, I’ve wanted us to be the real deal for quite some time now. You telling me all that, that night, would have been the perfect moment for me to say all of this if I hadn’t run my big mouth.” He laughs a little, but it sounds wet, and he’s pretty sure he’s about to cry again. It’s ridiculous. He still presses on, even as he feels a familiar pressing burn behind the back of his eyes, “So if you still feel the same way; if you still want me that way, I… Can we start over? Except this time, we do this for real?” He licks his lips nervously. “If you’re willing to take me back, of course.”

Silence stretches out between them, and the longer it goes on for, the more nervous Suhyeok becomes. 

Please take me back. Please, please, please.

“God,” Cheongsan exhales, tugging at Suhyeok’s hand. “We skipped so many steps only to go back to square one because we’re both the biggest, bumbling idiots out there.” 

“I should have asked you out on the get go, but I didn’t even realise I liked you like that until we started fake dating,” Suhyeok murmurs as Cheongsan successfully tugs him up onto the bed with him. “Then everything happened… And now here we are.” 

A groan slips from Cheongsan as he wipes at his eyes. “I genuinely hate us.” Suhyeok titters softly at that, while Cheongsan envelopes him into the tightest hug he could muster. He sinks into the warm hug, arms wrapping around his waist and head resting on his chest. 

Holy shit, he’s missed this so much.

“I kind of like us,” he says, snuggling up to Cheongsan. “Fuck that. I love us. I love us being together. I love us like this. I love us so much.”

“Mmm,” Cheongsan hums, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head. “God, I missed you so much. These two weeks have been horrible. Torturous, actually.”

“It wouldn’t have been so horrible if you had let me talk to you,” Suhyeok murmurs, arms tightening around Cheongsan. He hasn’t felt this light in a while, and it’s pretty amazing to feel this way again after being down in the dumps for the last two weeks. 

“I was doing heartbroken boy shit, okay? And I didn’t want my pride destroyed any further so I just… Avoided you,” Cheongsan answers defensively, which elicits soft, genuine laughter from Suhyeok. “Which clearly wasn’t the best course of action in hindsight, but by the end of the first week, I was in too deep in my little cesspool of angst to reach out back to you.” 

“You’re such an idiot,” Suhyeok comments without malice, pulling away to look at the other boy, affection weaving its way into his words. He cups his cheek. “But this time, you’re officially my idiot, and I really like that.” 

“I didn’t even say yes to you,” Cheongsan says, gazing at him with that dimpled smile of his — the same dimpled smile in which Suhyeok had fallen head over heels for back then, without even knowing, and is now falling heads over heels for, all over again; but at least this time, he’s aware of it. 

“Actions speak louder than words,” Suhyeok says, leaning in. He stops when the tip of his nose brushes against Cheongsan’s. “Can I kiss you?”

A playful scoff leaves Cheongsan’s lips, tilting his head back in amusement. The happy flicker in his eyes is back; Suhyeok swears he’s going to keep that flicker there, alive and well, for as long as he lives. 

(It’s a big thing to task himself with, but he will worry about that later when he’s alone in his room again and freaking out over this. Except it will be a good freakout.) 

“And what if I say no?”

“Then I won’t,” Suhyeok says, already drawing away from him. He grins when Cheongsan’s hand curls around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer once again. “So I guess that’s a yes,” he says, then presses his lips against Cheongsan’s. 

If he thought he couldn’t miss Cheongsan more, he’s clearly proven wrong, and when Cheongsan pulls away to look at him, he sighs. “San-ah… I like you so, so much.”

Cheongsan grins lightly, bumping foreheads with him. “I do, too.” Then, he adds, in a softer voice, “Welcome home,” and it’s all Suhyeok needs to know that things between them will be alright.

It’s certainly not great right now, but they’ll manage, as always. 

—

“So does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” Suhyeok questions as Cheongsan separates from him.

“Did we not just spend the past half an hour making out?” Cheongsan jokes, raising a brow. “I thought actions spoke louder than words.” 

“Oh yeah,” Suhyeok says with a grin, already leaning in to get the fill he’s missed out on for the past two weeks. “Oh yeah, that’s true.”

Suhyeok’s dad never finds out about their little ploy, nor do Cheongsan’s parents; they end up chalking it up to “young adult angst”, which might be a little too true. Suhyeok’s mum, however, remains stoked over the fact that she’s the only one who knows about their “little secret”. 

Cheongsan’s still pretty horrified that she even knows about it in the first place, but Suhyeok reassures him she won’t tell his parents. “I hope to god she won’t or god help us,” Cheongsan whines into his neck, eliciting a hearty laugh from Suhyeok, fingers gently stroking down his spine.

Their friends go absolutely mad when they find out they’re not fighting anymore and are finally together (“For real,” they’d say, just to tease them), which is fair enough, but the way they keep putting it makes Suhyeok feel quite stupid.

“That’s because you are stupid,” is Cheongsan’s response when Suhyeok tells him how godawful they’ve been with their slights against them, with most of them being aimed at Suhyeok. It’s mostly due to his (mega, gigantic) fuck up, in which they do not talk about.

Suhyeok’s flipping through his book, and he has to pause in between his page-turning to look down at his boyfriend (he’s still in disbelief they’re actually dating now; he suspects it’s going to take him some time to get used to it, even though they had a whole, few months trial run beforehand) — who’s currently comfortably curled up against his chest — a frown overtaking his face. “Not you too!” he groans, disgruntled. “They’re being the biggest assholes out there and you’re just condoning this behaviour?”

“I mean, it’s not like they’re wrong,” Cheongsan tells him, calmly, absentmindedly playing with one of his hoodie strings. Suhyeok has to bite back a foolish smile, feeling the soft little tugs as Cheongsan twirls and twists the ends around his fingers. “And anyway, what does it matter what they think? Your idiocy doesn’t make me like you less.” He lifts his head up, smiling at Suhyeok.

“I’m glad for that, because you’re going to have to suffer a lot of my idiocy from here on out.”

“And you think I haven’t already considered that when I signed myself up for an actual relationship with you?” Cheongsan questions. “Actually, I’ve suffered your idiocy enough prior to this to know what I’m getting myself into, so don’t you worry about me. I’m ready, so come at me.”

Arm tightening around him just a little, Suhyeok answers, “You really did, which is why I should thank you for giving me another chance. You know I love you for that, right?” 

“Wouldn’t have given you shit if I didn’t like you back like that,” Cheongsan mumbles, burying his face on his chest to hide the obvious blush tinting his cheeks the usual pretty pink. 

Ah, of course. He keeps forgetting Cheongsan has the tendency to get flustered over him dropping the ‘L’ word every now and again. He drops a feather-like kiss on the crown of his head, and grins when Cheongsan’s arms tighten around his waist in response to that. He finds it cute, and he’ll probably never stop finding it cute. 

(“Even until we’re old and grey?” Cheongsan questions when Suhyeok lets slip that little fact one day while they’re on a date, on a Sunday night. Sunday night dates have become a ritual for them; it’s now a weekly thing rather than a fortnightly thing. 

“You asking things like that makes me feel like you’re already set on marrying me,” Suhyeok says, tittering when Cheongsan pulls away from him to shove him on the arm.

“Shut up. I didn’t— that’s not—”

“Flustered again?” Suhyeok chuckles, linking their arms once again, pulling him in just a little closer than before. “I was kidding. Kind of. Like, I'm open to the idea." He grins when Cheongsan shoves at him again with a groan. "But yes.” He pauses, looking over at Cheongsan with a smile. “Even until we’re old and grey.”

Cheongsan beams at him, dimpled smile, crinkles appearing by the outer corners of his eyes. “Then I can’t wait to call you mine, but in a forever sense.” 

And, okay— maybe it’s a promise made too soon; maybe he’s too young to even be promising something like this in the first place, but he’s quite confident he’ll end up keeping it.

He doesn’t know where this sudden rush of confidence came from, but maybe it’s in the way Cheongsan’s looking at him, like he’s ready to promise him the world if he asked.

And Suhyeok feels the same way, so he nods, smiling back at him. “And neither can I.”)