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Soobin is the first to notice the change in Eunseok’s expression when Seunghan walks into rooms. It’s a natural condition, habitual by now— he keeps an eye out because he must, because he knows that there is something here to look out for. Whenever Eunseok looks away, unable to look at Seunghan for longer than a few seconds as though it hurts, he catches Soobin’s eyes across tables away giving him a look that says: caught you.
It’s like a terrible lightning strike. Soobin smiles and at first, Eunseok would have mistaken that for him mocking him but he isn’t. He’s being friendly. He’s trying to offer comfort that Eunseok didn’t ask for and that’s making something turn inside his stomach, something other than what he feels for Seunghan— that Seunghan doesn’t feel for him.
Seunghan saunters into the room, casually, with his hands in his pocket. He salutes Beomgyu, who’s working on Soobin for his assignment, and makes a face at Soobin. Soobin makes a face in return too, annoyed and Eunseok watches this exchange curiously. They're fashion design majors, all three of them. Soobin had originally been in Psychology, like him, that’s how they met— but then he’d moved to design after being convinced of it by Beomgyu and now he’s here, being experimented upon.
Eunseok isn’t any better, really, because he’s here to be experimented upon too. Only, the scientist-in-charge is late. Twenty minutes late.
‘Don’t look at me like that I was getting you nogcha, hyung,’ Seunghan says, climbing over a desk to enter the cubicle they’ve made out four makeshift tables for Seunghan and the rest of his team. Sohee sighs, annoyed, and resumes tallying the fabric requirements together. Beomgyu just glares from where he’s cuffing Soobin’s collars with white fabrics and tailor pins.
‘Sure,’ Eunseok says, watching Seunghan twist himself around to greet Sohee with a disgusting kiss on his cheek. He feels it waver in his heart, the image of it. How Sohee pushes him away, annoyed, how Seunghan relishes in it like he’s been given the whole of Sohee’s heart itself and it’s beating in the middle of his palm. Eunseok clears his throat. ‘Where is it?’
‘I dropped it on my way here,’ Seunghan smiles, looking just a little guilty. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s the thought counts,’ Soobin reminds him. Eunseok doesn’t care, it still feels a little awful.
He shrugs it off. Whatever, the sooner this is done, the better.
When Seunghan’s done fooling around with Sohee, he approaches Eunseok with the newfound determination of a project head. His smile glitters, all teeth, and for some reason Eunseok thinks he looks a little hungry. It’s not hunger for him, obviously, it’s just that Seunghan always looks a little hungry. A little dangerous. When Eunseok first met him, this was the kind of thought that stuck. He’d been in a study hall with Soobin, it’d been raining and Seunghan had come running with a boisterous laugh yelling Soobin in the raw way he usually did. He’d thought they were the same age at first, you never really know in college, but then Soobin had chased him down with the same tone yelling where’s the hyung, you brat? And he’d understood, that no, this was a fresher. A first year straight off the mills of high school.
A boy with too many teeth and a knife-sharp smile.
That was a year ago. Seunghan’s no longer a fresher. He’s hooked up with pretty much half of his department and at least five people from Psychology. His smile is fucking contagious and even though Eunseok’s a little pissed off at him for being terrible and dropping his nogcha that he’d apparently wanted to buy so badly he was late for their group project meet, he still ends up smiling when Seunghan greets him, softly, ‘Eunseok hyung.’
He can feel Soobin’s eyes on the side of his face as he shifts awkwardly. ‘What?’
‘Thank you for coming today.’ He’s like a chameleon with his changing personalities. Sometimes, Eunseok wonders what it’d be like to be on the receiving end of his bastardly self like the ones he has to offer for Soobin and Sohee. But he’s always like this with Eunseok, calm and a little amused. It’s like he’s the older one among the two of them, like Eunseok is barely hanging on at twenty-one.
‘It’s cool,’ Eunseok says. ‘Take me to dinner someday.’
‘Today?’ Seunghan frowns, ‘Not today, I’ve got the thing with Soh—‘
‘He can’t be there today anyway,’ Soobin cuts in. ‘He’s got the thing with me.’
And Eunseok has no thing with Soobin scheduled but he’ll take the cover for his future shame anyway. Last time they met up, they’d hooked up and ordered take out and Soobin had told him something cryptic about loving well. He knows the order of events must go down similar, again, if they meet up tonight but he doesn’t particularly mind.
Soobin is good. He is gentle. And even if he doesn’t love Eunseok, he cares about him. He knows Eunseok likes being held and doesn’t ask for a justification in return. He only really holds him.
Eunseok gives him a half-smile, a little tender, but Seunghan catches it. ‘When did you both start hanging out?’
‘Seunghan-ah, we were in the same class in our first sem…’ Eunseok says, flatly, because there’s no way Seunghan doesn’t know. But it’s apparent he doesn’t because the next second, his eyes fly up to Eunseok’s face with bewilderment etched across every inch of them.
‘You were?’
‘Seunghan-ie doesn’t know our history Eunseok-ah,’ Soobin pipes in, because he must, and Beomgyu makes a sound that’s halfway between a grumble and a bitter bite. ‘What— ah, Beomgyu, that fucking hurt…’
Eunseok smiles and shakes his head, dismissing them and finds his attention tuned back towards Seunghan. Seunghan had asked him two days ago if he’d wanted to model for their end-term project and while Eunseok had indeed agreed, he doesn’t know if he wants to do it anymore. Not if it means that Seunghan is going to keep being this close to him, hands intertwined with some kind of cloth that he’d drag over Eunseok’s skin to measure him with.
Seunghan is evidently not thinking about his project at all. He looks distant now, like he’s lost in thought and for a second, Eunseok wonders if he’s suddenly lost because of what they said. He snaps his fingers in front of Seunghan. ‘Earth to, Hani-yah.’
In response, Seunghan blinks. ‘I’m fine.’ He doesn’t sound fine. His voice is a pitch lower when he continues, softly. ‘Ah, I think I do remember. Soobin hyung was there that day, in the study hall, right?’
Eunseok wants to say that Soobin wasn’t just there that day, Seunghan had come to visit him specifically. It just so happened that Eunseok had been around too, mystified by Seunghan’s loud booming voice so late in the evening. The night was cloudy too, overall depressing. His fingers were freezing when he met Seunghan, this he does remember of the night vividly. His eyes were dry from the biting cold.
‘Yeah,’ he says, now. ‘That’s when we met.’
‘Strange,’ Seunghan nods, measuring his words. ‘I always thought I got to you first.’
Eunseok pauses but it doesn’t look like Seunghan has clued into what he said. Sohee had been in hearing shot for it, though, and he looks at both Seunghan and Eunseok curiously. Eunseok’s eyes, still wide, don’t have much of a response. Seunghan doesn’t believe there’s any response to give, because he patiently puts his pin cushion on again and has Sohee hand him the drape.
‘Here,’ he says, opening it and nearing Eunseok. Eunseok’s standing as far away from him as possible, the sculpture table behind him digging into the small of his back. Behind the table are the large windows that shape the rest of this classroom like a cocoon, and behind them finally is the setting dusk. White gables frame the scene, the sky then is aflame. He can see the sun set on Seunghan’s face, in light colours. Orange, whimsy and the sharp edges of his frown.
It’s all here and there with Seunghan. Sometimes, Eunseok thinks he could trip over him and bleed.
The silence that surrounds them twists in Eunseok’s heart the moment Seunghan brings the drape closer to him. It’s linen, white linen, and he straightens it twice before throwing it over Eunseok’s face. They’re close enough in height that he doesn’t have to lean forward or stand on his tiptoes to do this. He’s just the right height to hug him, which he does, and presses his heart against Eunseok’s skyrocketing one to pull it all around him.
He leans back, frowning. Mentally taking notes. He pushes a pin delicately through one fold to keep the fabric there and runs back to take a few notes on how to move on with the idea in his head.
‘Your shoulders are broad enough that they could look sexier with an off-shoulder piece, actually,’ Seunghan says.
Eunseok blinks. ‘Um,’ he says, looking around nervously till he finds Soobin. Soobin’s being ambushed similarly by Beomgyu, the difference is that neither of them are doing anything talking. Beomgyu’s just as breathless when he’s close to Soobin as Soobin is himself but for some reason, Soobin is very oblivious about it all. If he’d just look at what was in front of him, all of this would be over.
But then he knows that the nights they spend together will be over, too, so he tries not to say too much. It’s a little terrible of him, he knows. He does know. But every time he wants to say something, tell Soobin that Beomgyu might love him back, the words turn to stone in his mouth. His tongue is all heavy, his eyes misted over from how much he doesn’t want to lose the one close thing he has to a loving touch currently. Even if it’s not love, even if it’s mostly just convenience. It’s still tender. It’s still insistent. It’s still there.
Eunseok knows it’s not permanent but he doesn’t think he can bring himself to be the one to end it.
‘Hyung,’ Seunghan yells, sharply, and that’s when Eunseok realises he’s been talking to him. He pulls his gaze away from Soobin again and fixes it on Seunghan, who looks a little annoyed.
Well, he’s not a kid. He can do without Eunseok’s entire attention for a few minutes.
‘I was saying,’ he taps his feet on the ground impatiently, ‘you should take your jacket off.’
‘Why?’
‘I need to figure something out.’
‘What—’ but then Seunghan begins tugging on it so Eunseok has no choice but to bat his hands away and do so. When he removes his jacket, Seunghan suddenly pauses.
His eyes are glued to Eunseok’s shoulder, and that’s when he realises that the tank he’s wearing is sleeveless and beneath the strap is a hickey that falls right in the junction of his neck.
His face burns. He swallows, still, unwilling to take it back. ‘What do you want?’ he asks.
Seunghan’s eyes are still on the hickey. ‘What’s that?’
‘What?’
‘What’s that mark on your shoulder?’
Eunseok wants to bury himself alive. ‘What do you think?’
‘You’re… dating?’ Eunseok can’t tell if the disgust on Seunghan’s face is from the idea that Eunseok’s fucking or if he’s being fucked. The whole shoulder hickey deal should spell what Eunseok likes out for him and if that’s what he’s unhappy about then all of this fucking sucks.
He looks at Soobin, who is suddenly frozen. Eunseok can understand, he’s the culprit after all.
‘What?’ Beomgyu frowns, suddenly an active part of this conversation. Eunseok looks at him in alarm and then back at Soobin, who shares his expression. ‘They’re hooking up, Seunghan-ie. Did you not know?’
‘They’re what?’ Seunghan asks.
Eunseok wants to bury himself alive.
‘They’re hooking up,’ Beomgyu clarifies. ‘Soobin-hyung and Eunseok.’
For a moment, the room is utterly silent. Eunseok wants to drown himself in a river of his own blood. He wants to put on his fucking jacket again. Which he does, pulling itself around him and pushing past Seunghan on auto-pilot. But Seunghan’s reflexes are quicker. He catches him around his wrist, keeping him in place. And Eunseok’s face burns.
He considers their current predicament. He’s going to fall in love with Seunghan. He’s going to pay for it.
Back then, on the night they first met. It had indeed rained. Seunghan had been so stupidly happy about the rain it’d pleased Eunseok too. He’d watched him for five straight minutes, feeling awfully young, and then went home and thought about it the entire night. But that hadn’t been why he ended up liking him in the first place. Truth be told, Eunseok doesn’t remember why. Seunghan had always just been there and at some point, his affection for Sohee began to bite. And then, he’d understood.
End of story.
But now, they’re here again. They’re here again and. ‘Where are you going?’ Seunghan asks.
‘Just,’ Eunseok says. ‘Need to get some air.’
He walks out.
He knows Soobin follows him out with the sound of his footsteps. They do the thing, silently walking for a little while until Eunseok’s out of the department.
‘Eunseok,’ Soobin says, coming to a stop beside him when Eunseok sits down on a bench near the pavement.
‘Yeah,’ Eunseok says, blinking. ‘Just needed a little air.’
‘Beomgyu didn’t mean to put you in a spot there,’ Soobin says. Eunseok isn’t looking at him but he can feel Soobin scratching the back of his head in guilt. It’s always been endearing.
Did this whole no strings attached thing draw a line in between him and Soobin, too? Eunseok can’t tell. He doesn’t know if being with Soobin means that not being with him might be something different. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses Soobin to this too, to this endless need for something there.
At the end of the day it is just that. Touch, so he remains used to it. Sometimes, he thinks that if he goes too long avoiding all of them then the next time he sees them— whether it’s Sohee’s handshake or Beomgyu’s soft hug or Seunghan’s little shoulder bump— he’ll break. He needs to be used to it, he needs to get used to it. He can’t do both, seek it and hate the idea of someone seeing it on him.
But Seunghan looked at him like that, maddeningly. His eyes zeroed into the bite like it meant something. Eunseok can’t purge that image from his brain, how everything, for a second, felt right in the world and then he realised it meant that he sought it anyway. The full force of Seunghan’s attention, in want as opposed to need. And he couldn't bear it.
It’s still Soobin who followed him out, though. Soobin who is standing here, awkwardly for a few moments, before sighing and sitting beside him. Like this, they look like two people who could possibly be together. Shoulders touching, knees touching, watching the same sun set into a bruised violet sky. It’s all the shades of blood, and then magenta. And when it’s all gone, to a soft terrible blue, then Eunseok finally realises he misses it. The sun.
‘Eunseok-ah,’ Soobin says. He turns towards him and Eunseok knows this means he doesn’t want to beat around the bush anymore. He’s looking at him so Eunseok can gauge the gravity of the situation, so he takes him seriously.
Eunseok does. He leans back and looks at him from the side of his eyes. A cold breeze sweeps across this side of their campus, carrying a few leaves and the dust through the cobbled pavements and over the pink hortensia shrubs. The street lamps blink to a slow start, whirring mechanically.
‘Hm?’ he asks, understanding Soobin won’t begin talking without his full consent.
‘I don’t think Seunghan hates you,’ he says, very slowly, like Eunseok believes this. Like if Eunseok listens to him hard enough, then he’ll undo whatever has convinced him of it. But he doesn’t think Seunghan hates him.
Eunseok smiles. ‘He doesn’t hate me, hyung,’ he says. Soobin has held him as he’s cried about Seunghan, but he’s never told him he was crying about Seunghan specifically. It’s never been Seunghan, specifically, anyway. He has been crying about many things. He cries all the time when Soobin touches him.
It’s not about Seunghan. Nothing about Seunghan makes him cry. He remembers the way Seunghan tripped in front of the canteen and laughs, he remembers his saunter and laughs, he remembers the way he’d tried impressing three girls on a blind date and ended up driving them all away and laughs. It’s not Seunghan, it’ll never be Seunghan. It’s what is left inside him after all those thoughts that make him cry. It’s what there, later.
Softly inscribed into the folds of his heart, gently. You’re the only one looking, Eunseok-ah. You’re the only one waiting.
A relationship is a two way street.
‘I don’t think he hates me, hyung,’ Eunseok confirms. ‘I think he just doesn’t like me enough.’
‘Eunseok—’
‘No,’ he shakes his head. ‘No, it’s okay.’
It’s said that touches are about different things too, and that the definition of touch is an evidence of human existence. Hand shakes, fist bumps, a baby holding out a finger to touch the cheek of it’s mother. The first touch of a person’s hand against hand, hand in hand, becoming a shield against unfathomable terror. Touches are about different things, too. He knows. When Soobin puts his hand on his thigh, squeezing it in comfort, well, it’s comforting. But when Seunghan had put his hands around him, heart against his heart, it had felt like being welded. Being mirrored. To see abyss in the middle of what did or didn’t exist.
‘It isn’t,’ Soobin says. ‘It isn’t okay.’
They have to head back in soon, he can’t mourn for this any longer than he can keep calling it grief. It isn’t grief. He has to take it away from himself.
But then, he looks at Soobin and Soobin’s looking at him and for a second, for just a second,
he wants it so badly.
And Soobin understands, because he leans closer to him and lets him take the leap. A part of him feels so sorry, a part of him unbearably hungry.
Soobin’s lips are soft and taste like candies. Like the ones Beomgyu likes. Eunseok brings his hands over to cup his face and Soobin’s hands trail over from his thigh to his stomach to finally grip his side and pull him close. He kisses him and feels colder and colder but a little part of him is lighting itself on fire.
They have to head back in soon, he reminds himself, and pulls away. His lips tingle like they always do, whenever he leaves Soobin. His thumb finds Soobin’s bottom lip and presses down on it, and this close— he can see the red high of blood rushing to his face.
‘I think they can do without us for a bit, actually,’ Soobin says and stands up, separating himself from Eunseok so quickly it actually hurts for a second. But then he’s pulling Eunseok up and unlike Seunghan, Soobin is taller than him. He’s taller and not stronger, per se, but the advantage he has on him with the surprise allows him to tug Eunseok along the edges of the department building easily. Until they’re behind, near the workshop desks that’s so dark Eunseok can’t even see Soobin till he concentrates on trying to find him.
Soobin pushes him against the wall and smiles. Then, he cups the side of Eunseok’s face and kisses him tenderly.
His heart sets with each kiss and rises with the warm heat of Soobin’s hands on his skin. Soobin seeks skin just as often with his hands as he does with his teeth and now, they’re roaming somewhere beneath the collars of his jacket to press down on the soft expanse of his neck, watching it pillow under his touch with interest.
‘No more bruises,’ Eunseok reminds him.
Soobin whines, shaking his head. ‘It’s not going to be a bruise,’ he says, his lips still on his. He kisses the side of Eunseok’s face and then under his jaw, trailing softly, slowly, down the line of his neck. Eunseok bites back a gasp and uses his hands to tug Soobin’s neck in the direction he wants him to steer in and feels the smile Soobin presses against his skin.
He smells like soap and detergent. He tastes like candies. He kisses like he wants Eunseok and for a few seconds, until Soobin comes back up and finds his mouth again— he convinces himself he might.
He laughs against Soobin’s mouth when one of his hands dig too deep into his waist and it tickles. Soobin catches the sound of it between his teeth.
‘We have to go back in,’ Eunseok reminds Soobin. ‘Hyung.’
‘And we will,’ Soobin says. ‘Soon.’
And all this is metaphor.
An ordinary hand — just lonely
for something to touch
that touches back.