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The tingling in Eunho’s fingertips—the insistent urge to touch Bamby—all started one Wednesday evening.
It was after vocal lessons. The five of them went out for drinks, a reward of some sort because they all did pretty well. Eunho has had quite a few glasses and the feeling of drunken lightheadedness was catching up to him. He reached across the table to get a bottle of water, leaning into Bamby’s space. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. They’ve been friends for so long, and have invaded each other’s personal spaces more than times than he could count.
He shouldn’t feel anything. He wouldn’t have felt anything. If only his hand didn’t slip on the smooth surface of the leather couch they were sitting on just as he leaned forward, making him lose balance and inadvertently slam his face—nose, lips, forehead, and all—right onto Bamby’s cheek.
He didn’t mean to do anything weird, to feel anything weird. But instead of moving away, straightening up, and apologizing like a normal person would, Eunho moved closer, turned his head sideways, and nuzzled— nuzzled —against Bamby’s soft cheeks.
The older man’s pained grunt turned into shocked mumbling, that weird mumbling noises that he always does, and Eunho smiled at the sound.
“Get off me,” Bamby complained once he realized their position, pushing him away. But Eunho got his arms locked around Bamby’s waist by that point, so he isn’t going anywhere.
He refuses to because Bamby’s cheeks felt so soft, his skin cool from the chilly air blowing from the nearby air conditioner. His frame felt small and supple between Eunho’s arms, yet his toned muscles were firm at the same time. Eunho felt warm and comfy pressed against him.
“This feels good, hyung,” he mumbled almost incoherently, with Bamby’s warmth making him sleepy. The older stopped pushing him away and simply accepted his fate, so Eunho took the chance to pull him even closer. “Why have I never hugged you like this before?”
“You’re so drunk you don’t even know what you’re saying,” Bamby snorted. He shook his head and then took a shot of whiskey, gulping loud enough for Eunho to hear. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”
Why would he regret this? Eunho thought to himself. That was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. Of course, he wouldn’t.
Except he did.
When he woke up the next morning with the vivid memory of what Bamby feels like under his fingers, he couldn’t help but regret what he did. Not because they weren’t exactly touchy towards each other and he’s afraid it might change their friendship, but because now that he knows how good it feels, he wants more.
And that’s how it all started, the way his fingertips would start tingling every time Bamby was near. How his palms would itch when they're standing side by side, and he’d have to clench his fist tightly just to fight the urge to reach out and feel Bamby against his skin again.
He’s scared to imagine what Bamby would think about his obsession with touching him, so he’s been trying to avoid as much physical contact as he could. He’d walk and stand away from him. He’d flinch whenever their clothes so much as graze against each other’s. He’d wince when he had to hold him during their dance practices.
It’s gotten ridiculous. He’s gotten ridiculous to the point that even the others were complaining.
“What’s wrong with you?” Noah huffs out, glowering at him. They were practicing the choreo for 6th Summer, but Eunho keeps stumbling over the part where he has to hold hands with Bamby, so they've been repeating the whole song over and over again. It's understandable for Noah to be frustrated with him.
“Let's just call it a day,” Yejun announces. “We already know the choreo for this by heart. It's not like we have to dance it perfectly today.”
“I'm sorry, hyung.” Eunho hangs his head in guilt. He couldn't meet their eyes. That was all he could say, because if they knew the ridiculous reason why he keeps messing up and causing trouble for them, they'd probably be even more pissed. Either that or he’d never hear the end of their teasing.
Noah sighs. “Right. Let's just go home and rest.”
“No,” Bamby suddenly says. “Eunho and I are gonna stay behind.” He raises his brow at Eunho, as if challenging him to refuse. “We keep messing up our part, so we're gonna practice it separately.”
“Are you sure?” Yejun asks.
“Yeah,” Bamby nods resolutely. “Right, Eunho?” He turns to him with a pointed look. It may have sounded like a question, but the expression he's wearing left no room for opposition. Eunho simply hums and nods, knowing he didn't really have a choice.
He should've just done his best earlier, then he wouldn't have had to spend more time with Bamby alone. The realization that it'd be just the two of them makes his heart pound harder and his breaths come shorter. His hands felt restless again, like it needed to hold onto him, like it was made just for that purpose.
He watches in silence as Yejun, Noah, and Hamin get out of the room one by one. Yejun reminds them to be careful and not get hurt. Hamin wishes him luck and promises to treat him to iced Americano if he nails the dance. Noah pats him on the shoulder and says sorry for talking harshly.
And then it was just him and Bamby, the air charged with an unexplainable tension and an awkwardness that's unusual for the two of them and therefore hard to ignore.
He shifts his weight on both feet, pretending to be preoccupied by a thread on his shirt while he waits for Bamby to break the silence, subtly watching him from the corner of his eyes. The older coughs to get his attention, and in a clear voice that echoed far too loudly in the practice room, he says, “Spill it out. What’s with you?”
“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m scared of how badly I want to touch you.” As if he could say that straight to Bamby’s face. He shakes his head instead and begins to say that everything’s fine with him, but Bamby is quick to cut him off.
“Don’t tell me nothing’s bothering you. I know you.”
That’s true, Eunho thinks. Yes, Yejun may be empathic, Hamin may be eerily perceptive, and Noah may be quietly observant. But if there’s anyone in their group who knows the inner workings of his brain, it’s Bamby.
Eunho turns to face him, and suddenly the room feels too small, too cramped, too easy for him to cross the distance between them.
He exhales. Maybe he should just get this over with. He hates what has become of his thoughts and how it’s driving a wedge between them and causing inconvenience for everyone else.
If Bamby ends up weirded out by him, then so be it. They’re friends—they’ll get over it eventually. Or at least he hopes they will.
Besides, he’s not even sure what these urges meant. Maybe it’s just natural—he’s an adult.
He’s an adult man with adult urges to hold his friend close in a probably not so friendly way. Oh god. He’s so fucked.
He glances at Bamby again and gets an impatient “So?”
“I…” he starts. “I've been… wanting… to touch you.”
Fuck. That doesn't sound right and it’s absolutely not how he wanted to say what he feels. Bamby just gawks at him like he couldn't believe what he just heard.
“Let me- let me rephrase. I've been wanting to hold you.”
Based on the dumbstruck expression on Bamby's face, that definitely didn't help. Eunho mentally slaps himself. He's really fucking this up.
“What do you mean?” Bamby asks after a while, brows drawn in confusion. “Can you explain?”
But what is there to explain? “I mean- It's just-” Eunho huffs out a breath and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. And then he exhales again, and finally lets hell break loose. “Ever since I snuggled up to you back when I was drunk, that's all I've ever been able to think about, and I've been trying so hard to control myself, but being with you like this is making it so hard. I-” he cuts off his tirade and shuts his mouth. Shit. He is in deep shit.
His words hung in the air, making the palpable tension even more suffocating. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting everywhere around the room but on Bamby as he waited for the man’s response.
Why isn't he saying anything? The silence kept stretching and stretching.
Eunho couldn't take the anxiety coiling in his chest anymore, so he clenched his fist and in a softer voice that's closer to a whisper he said, “Can you please say something?”
He finally looked up to meet Bamby’s eyes, and he could see the conflicting emotions in them. He could practically hear the gears in that pretty pink head of his as he tried to process everything Eunho just admitted.
And then finally, Bamby sighs gently, his eyes softening as he meets Eunho’s gaze. “Okay.” He nods resolutely, like he's just made up his mind. “So you wanted to hold me,” he repeats, as if asking for clarification.
It's almost laughable how he's making it sound so simple when it's been tormenting Eunho for days on end.
Still, for all his honesty, the thought of saying “yes” to Bamby's statement makes Eunho feel unreasonably shy. So instead, he averts his eyes and nods hesitantly, a blush creeping across his cheeks.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see Bamby grinning, and the sight floods his chest with a mixture of relief and embarrassment.
They're okay.
“You’re an idiot, you know.”
The sound of Bamby’s laughter cuts through the tension in the room and lightens the air around them. Eunho feels like he could finally breathe again.
“Come here,” Bamby says, and to Eunho’s surprise, he swings his arms open and invites him into an embrace. “If you wanted to hug me so much, why didn’t you just tell me?” Bamby scoffs affectionately.
Eunho locks eyes with him. There’s so many other things he wanted to say, like how they’re probably glossing over the gravity of the situation at the moment. But as his heart thuds loudly in his chest, he decides to let those thoughts go for now.
“Are you gonna hug me or not?” Bamby pouts, feigning annoyance, but Eunho could tell from the reddening of his ears that he feels shy too, and the knowledge that it’s not just him affected by all of this is oddly comforting.
He steps into Bamby’s outstretched arms and bends down to envelope the shorter man in his arms. It felt like coming home. And just like that time when he was drunk, he nuzzles his face against Bamby’s soft cheeks and inhales the familiar scent of his cologne. And even though it sent thousands of butterflies fluttering in his chest, their touch feels good, warm, soothing.
Bamby’s hold tightens around him as he shifts to a more comfortable position, and it takes all of Eunho's self-control not to reciprocate with an even tighter squeeze. He could feel Bamby’s heartbeat against his own, their rhythm together almost audible in the nonexistent space between them.
He didn’t know how long they stood like that, but eventually, Bamby chuckles teasingly, his warm breath tickling Eunho’s ear. “Have you had your fill yet?”
With a reluctant sigh, Eunho releases their embrace, but his arms linger around Bamby’s waist. “Not quite,” he answers.
“Well, that will have to do,” Bamby says in a stricter tone, although there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. “We still have to practice.” He disentangles himself from Eunho’s arms and playfully intertwines their fingers. It’s a different kind of touch that leaves Eunho all tingly and fluttery again. “Maybe I’ll let you recharge if you do a good job.”
And at that moment, as he watched Bamby stick his tongue out at him playfully, he had a sudden realization— Oh… I might be in love with him.
A smile tugs at Eunho’s lips at the thought. “Really?” he finally replies, a question to both himself and Bamby. He tries to act nonchalant but fails, as his bubbling excitement seeps into his voice. He raises Bamby’s hand to his lips and gives his knuckles a kiss. “I’m gonna do my best then.”
Things might be blurry between them… for now.
But as Bamby grants him the promised “recharge” later that evening, he thinks maybe they’re closer to clarity than both of them realized.
- END ♡