Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jun-tae shoved another rice cake in his mouth as Hu-min, sitting next to him, stretched his arms high and wide above his head, groaning loudly and obnoxiously like an old man.

“Ah, I’m so full,” Hu-min said. “Don’t be mad if I throw up during practice, later.”

Hyun-tak, holding his head up with an elbow propped up on the table, fist balled up against his temple, rolled his eyes and fake-whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “Watch him try and use that excuse to explain why he’s so bad at playing.” Jun-tae couldn’t repress his smile, and Hyun-tak winked at him, pleased with having an audience. Jun-tae looked back down at his plate, feeling shy.

“Fuck off,” Hu-min replied around a laugh. “I’m not the worst. Si-eun’s taking home that title.” He elbowed Si-eun, sitting to his left. “What do you say, basketball practice? You, me, us, and loserdom?”

Si-eun put down his chopsticks. “No,” he said simply. Jun-tae was used to his blunt, impassible responses by then. He, like Hu-min and Hyun-tak, merely waited a few more seconds for the rest of the monotonous sentence to follow. “I’m going to the hospital. Su-ho is starting his physical re-education.” He paused. “Also, I’m not a loser,” he added with an imperceptible pout.

Hu-min nodded nonchalantly. He stretched again, dropping his arm around Si-eun’s shoulders. “Okay! It’s just us three then,” he yawned, gesturing at Jun-tae and Hyun-tak.

Jun-tae fished another rice cake out of the plate of tteokbokki at the center of the table, nodding in agreement. He wasn’t getting any better at basketball, but he liked hanging out with them more than almost anything else. It was a new feeling, and it would always come at random times, but he was once again overwhelmed by a wave of intense happiness at the idea of being part of a group. The past few months felt like years away, and there he was today, comfortably sitting at the shabby tteokbokki joint just outside of school, sharing lunch with his friends. Life really was bizarre.

Hyun-tak was staring at him, and Jun-tae raised his eyebrows questioningly. Hyun-tak eyed him for another short moment before he reached his hand out towards his face. Jun-tae had to make a conscious effort not to flinch out of habit, and he froze. Hyun-tak held his face gently, his fingers curled under his chin, while he swiped his thumb across his lips. The interaction lasted less than two whole seconds, and Hyun-tak was already looking away, casually licking his thumb clean as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Jun-tae blinked rapidly, hoping the quick succession of cold and hot flashes washing over him wouldn’t make him instantly start sweating. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and braved a worried, furtive glance at Si-eun and Hu-min, but they both seemed utterly unbothered. Jun-tae grabbed some tissue paper and wiped at his mouth uselessly. Hyun-tak had already cleared the bit of sauce he’d inadvertently smeared on his bottom lip with his chopsticks. Suddenly, he didn’t feel very hungry anymore, and put them down on the table.

“Gotak, it’s your turn. Thanks for the meal,” Hu-min declared, pointing at where the counter and cash-register were. “Let’s go.”

Hyun-tak’s gaze snapped his attention back to Jun-tae. “Not yet. Jun’s not finished.”

“No, no, I’m good,” he said, forcing a smile to cover for his confusion. “I ate a lot.”

Hyun-tak automatically returned his smile, looking pleased once again. “Yeah? Our Jun-tae is too skinny. You gotta eat well to study well,” he joked, voice dangerously close to imitating Hu-min. He got up, fishing a bit of cash out of his jacket to pay for their food. On his way to the counter, he squeezed his shoulder warmly as he brushed past him.

Jun-tae felt the weight and pressure of his hand long after it left his body. It prickled at his skin strangely—he craved it and resented it at the same time.

Outside, the three of them waved goodbye to Si-eun, who slowly made his way to the bus stop.

“Say hi to Su-ho for us,” Jun-tae called out. Si-eun nodded.

It was almost the end of the year, and most classes in the afternoon were cancelled so that, officially, students could go to cram school or self-study for the next year's exams. Obviously, most of Eunjang just went to their favorite gaming spots instead. Free of classes for the day, the three of them headed back to the school grounds to sweat out all the junk food they absorbed earlier.

Jun-tae just shot a few hoops, but the afternoon sun was beating down on them heavily and, exhausted, he ended up sitting down a little to the side of the court, close enough to listen to Hu-min and Hyun-tak’s banter.

“Come at me, dumbass,” Hyun-tak said, dribbling the ball with ease.

“I swear, I ate too much. Buddy, believe me, I don’t wanna puke.” Just as the words were out of his mouth, Hu-min lunged at him, abandoning all pretense. He used the element of surprise to steal the ball from Huyn-tak, and in two wide leaps, reached a good spot to shoot. Hyun-tak moved swiftly like he was his shadow, and jumped high to block the throw—Hu-min still scored.

Jun-tae couldn’t help but admire the smoothness of the moves. Between the heat and the rhythmic thump of the ball hitting the court, he was lulled into a daze. The laughter from his friends rang distantly in his ears as his mind started drifting elsewhere. Hyun-tak’s shirt was sticking to his skin. He would occasionally pinch the front of it between his fingers and shake it rapidly in a fanning motion to get some air flowing. Still baking in the sun, unwilling to move further away to the shade, Jun-tae felt a bead of sweat run from his own forehead down to his cheek. Fascinated, he watched Hyun-tak run the back of his hand against the side of his neck to wipe away his own. His smile was wide and goofy, as he continued to trade jabs with his best friend. His skin had already started to tan.

Although Jun-tae was sitting stock-still on the hot ground, his heartbeat kept steadily going up. There it was again: the pit in his stomach, the sensation of light vertigo he would get whenever his focus inexorably drifted to Hyun-tak. Sometimes it was when they were hanging out in the club room, dicking around on their phones. Sometimes, Hyun-tak didn’t even need to be there at all, and it happened when he was sitting in front of the TV at home. Some other times it was in class, when he was supposed to be working on his math problems, and Si-eun had to knock on his desk to break him out of it. It was confusing, scary, and he had trouble untangling the messy threads of all his emotions. A bit of guilt and a lot of shame, the whole sprinkled with anxiety; yet he was always dismayed to realize there was some joy and pleasure mixed in there too.

Hyun-tak grabbed the hem of his shirt to dab at his face, flashing the skin of his stomach for a quick second. Jun-tae snapped his neck to the side to avoid looking, and the heat abruptly became unbearable. He put a hand on the hot ground to help himself up, barely feeling the pain as the heat of it seared itself in his palm. He walked away from the court in a daze. He was just too hot. It was the sun. He needed to cool off.

He walked slowly, as if waking up from a dream, and soon enough he found himself punching in some digits at the vending machine near the changing rooms. He shook his head to dispel any residual visions of Hyun-tak's fingers close to his mouth, and bent down to fish out the drink from the dispenser. He immediately tore the cap open and drank half of the bottle, feeling the cold beverage deliciously cool him down from the inside. It was like dumping water on a small fire. He gasped, then coughed a bit when a few droplets went the wrong pipe. He felt better already. It was just the heat. Nothing else.

He returned to the court with a clear mind, refreshed and level headed.

“Hey Jun, where did you go?” Hyun-tak called out to him as soon as he was within hearing distance.

Jun-tae raised both his arms to show the two bottles he’d brought back for them instead of answering. The basketball was lying away from them; it probably bounced off the hoop too far and they couldn’t be bothered to retrieve it.

“Ah, as expected,” Hu-min said with his booming voice, smiling wide and crazy. “You’re the man!” He caught the drink Jun-tae gently tossed to him mid-air. “Thanks.”

Jun-tae smiled to himself and walked to Hyun-tak to hand him his drink. “This one’s for you, Tak.”

Hyun-tak accepted the bottle he was handing him, closing his fingers briefly around his when he grabbed it. Before Jun-tae could do anything else, Hyun-tak brushed his knuckles against his face affectionately. Just a quick, gentle little touch against his cheekbone as a means to say thanks.

Jun-tae’s newfound composure started to crumble once again. It wasn’t the first time Hyun-tak casually touched him like this, but usually enough time passed between each pat, each smile, each warm call of his name—just enough time passed to keep him from spiraling. Too much was happening in a short amount of time, and Jun-tae’s brain could no longer dismiss or ignore any of it. It stacked up heavily on his mind and on his chest, and his breath came up a little shallow. It was the heat, it was the sun. Yeah.

Hyun-tak was already uncapping the bottle of flavored water and taking a long swig. Jun-tae watched, entranced, his throat work as he swallowed greedily, some of the water spilling over his lips and dripping down to his collarbones, mixing with his sweat.

Hu-min must have seen Hyun-tak show his affection because he started cooing like you would with a puppy or a small child, crowding against Jun-tae and smooshing his face between his rough, sweaty hands. His antics tore Jun-tae out of his reverie. He was still holding the cold water and the plastic crumpled against Jun-tae’s cheek. He made his voice all high-pitched and transformed into an overwhelmingly doting grandmother. “Oh-ho what a lil’ cutie. Our precious Jun-tae. Why are you so tiny?”

Jun-tae tried to extricate himself from Hu-min’s octopus-limbs, backing away from the love attack, in vain. It still made him laugh, but he was thankful when Hyun-tak intervened. “Hey, hey. That’s enough, Baku. Stop that, you’re gonna mess up his glasses. Hey!” He easily shoved Hu-min away from Jun-tae, faking annoyance. He draped a protective arm around his shoulders, and pressed him against his side. Jun-tae’s giggles died down progressively as he felt the heat of Hyun-tak’s body seep into ribs. “Don’t touch,” Hyun-tak added defiantly.

Hu-min wasn’t deterred and good-naturedly threw his own arm over Hyun-tak as well, so the three of them all faced the same way. “Alright, alright. Don’t worry, buddy. In my eyes, you’re just as adorable as he is.” He pursed his lips, as if asking for a kiss. Hyun-tak jerked away from him so violently he jostled Jun-tae out of his tucked position against his side. His half-empty water bottle fell to the ground. “Why? You don’t want a little smooch? C’mere. Gotak, come here, you fucker.”

Hyun-tak, now the new target, tried to wrench himself away from him, but Hu-min was too resolute. He wriggled, twisted, and curled into himself, screaming obscenities at his best friend, trying to avoid any contact with his mouth. “Don’t you fucking do it,” he shrieked. “Baku!”

Jun-tae laughed again, readjusting his glasses on his nose, and picked up the bottle. He shook his head, amused and relieved at the sudden distraction. They were back on normal ground. He calmed himself, and mentally blocked any sensory memory of his own shoulder pressed up against the hard line of Hyun-tak’s body, warm and slightly wet from sweating so much. Hu-min and him goofed around like children for another minute before they abruptly stopped, exhausted and even sweatier than before.

“Enough,” Hyun-tak breathed out, bent over with his hands on his knees.

Hu-min was still snickering next to him but let him off the hook. “Okay, well I have to go! My dad wants me to help him do some prep before we open the shop tonight.” He rubbed his fingers together with intention. “He’s paying me for it! Since he extorts money out of me every time we eat there, we made a deal. No free food, no free work.”

“Take a shower first, before going,” Jun-tae advised, just in case.

As always, Hu-min took no offense, and saluted them with two fingers against his temple, smiling brightly. “Bye, cuties!”

Hyun-tak straightened back up with a grunt, flipping him the bird as Baku sauntered away. “Come on, Jun,” he said with a small smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

*

“Come in, everyone’s still at work. My mom should be back after dinner.”

“I could have gone straight home,” Jun-tae mumbled, for the seventh time since they’d left the school grounds.

“And I told you I want you to eat something before going home. You barely ate any lunch.”

Jun-tae slowly took off his shoes and gingerly stepped inside after Hyun-tak. He clutched the straps of his backpack nervously. It was his first time at his house. Hyun-tak was already shedding his stuff as he moved further into the small apartment. He tossed his bag next to the couch and went straight to the kitchen, pulling out some cold water from the fridge.

“You want some?”

Jun-tae nodded silently, and accepted the glass of water he was handed. He took a sip while carefully looking around. There was a classic family portrait hanging right above the TV, with Hyun-tak smiling slightly between his mom and dad. He looked rather young in the picture, and Jun-tae caught himself walking over to it so he could see it in more detail.

Hyun-tak snorted. “Don’t make fun of me, okay? I was like, 14.”

“I would never make fun of you,” Jun-tae replied simply, eyes trained on the framed photograph: Hyun-tak’s young face, his longer hair falling into his eyes, and the cute little smile he put on for the portrait. He turned around, worried about the sudden silence.

Hyun-tak was standing one step behind him, features schooled in an indecipherable expression, staring straight at him.

“Huh? Why? What—what did I say?” Jun-tae stammered, flustered.

Hyun-tak shook himself out of his apparent stupor and grabbed the now empty glass of water Jun-tae was uselessly holding up. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said gently, as if he was worried about spooking him. “Give me your bag. You can wash up first. I’ll get you a spare shirt and then we can eat some food.”

After his shower, Jun-tae stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time, until most of the steam cleared up and he could make out his face in the reflection. He looked at himself despondently: his wet, messy hair sticking up every which way, his small frame and skinny arms, the old bruise that would not go away, from the fight at the bowling alley, right below his ribs... His mind involuntarily flashed back to Hyun-tak wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt earlier in the afternoon; he only saw his stomach for a second, but the memory lingered, lengthened, stretched, and distorted itself into something that didn’t really happen. He gazed into his reflection without seeing himself and imagined Hyun-tak removing his shirt entirely, skin glistening in the sun, sweat pooling into the hollow part between his neck and collarbones. He imagined his warm dark brown eyes staring at him like he did earlier in the living room, and—

“Are you done?” Hyun-tak called from outside the door, breaking him out of his fantasies. He flinched, panicked, and just as he loudly called out, “Yes!” Hyun-tak had already asked another question. “Can I come in?”

Which was why Hyun-tak pushed the door open, casual as you please, while Jun-tae was still shirtless.

“Wait—wait,” Jun-tae stuttered, scrambling to put on the soft white t-shirt Hyun-tak had lended him.

Hyun-tak didn’t look bothered. “You said I could come in.”

Jun-tae’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. He suddenly had trouble breathing and he convinced himself it was because of the steam remaining in the bathroom. “No, I—” he began, pulling hurriedly on the edge of the shirt to cover his chest. He was still a little wet and it stuck unpleasantly to his stomach. “Nevermind. There, all yours.” He made to leave the room, but Hyun-tak stayed right where he was, making it difficult for Jun-tae to walk around him and through the door.

“You can stay, if you want. I don’t care,” Hyun-tak said, shrugging.

Jun-tae laughed joylessly, hoping it would cover for his awkwardness, and swallowed his spit with a hard click in his throat. He needed to get out now. He put his back flush against the wall, trying to squeeze past Hyun-tak's tall frame without touching him. He could not bring himself to look him in the eyes, so he kept his head low, and made himself even smaller than he already was compared to Hyun-tak. When he was level with him, Hyun-tak slowly turned to face him, giving him more space to slip past, which made Jun-tae breathe a sigh of relief, but it also had the unfortunate downside of bringing his face very close to him.

What a disaster.

Jun-tae kept his eyes resolutely trained on the floor, and mumbled that no, no, he was done anyway and to take his time please, for the love of all things on earth, take all the time you need and let me get my bearings back. He kept that last part to himself.

He finally got through the door and it felt like a few seconds too long before he heard the click of the door closing behind him. He breathed out a very long sigh, the cold air of the house outside of the stuffy bathroom feeling like a benediction. He didn’t have to look in a mirror again to know his face was probably red. Very red. Too red. He picked up his glasses from the coffee table and put them back on.

He patiently waited for Hyun-tak to finish washing up, sitting rigidly on the couch. He came out just a few minutes later, fully dressed (thankfully). They ate instant ramyeon in front of the TV in comfortable silence until Jun-tae’s mom texted him, asking around what time he would be home.

“Thank you for the food, Tak,” Jun-tae said, a few minutes later, forcing his heels back into his shoes. “I promise I’ll return your shirt after I clean it.” He hiked up his backpack strap higher on his shoulder; it was bulkier because of the balled up school uniform he had shoved in there after washing up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hyun-tak said, looking a little sheepish. “You can keep it, it looks good on you.” He ruffled Jun-tae’s hair lightly, smiling fondly.

Jun-tae looked down at himself incredulously, observing the overly large white t-shirt hanging awkwardly over his thin frame. The collar was too big and the sleeves even fell down past his elbows. “Uh,” he said, hesitant.

“Whatever,” Hyun-tak said dismissively, he patted Jun-tae’s hair flat where he’d just tousled it, and slapped his shoulder amicably. Jun-tae looked up from underneath his lashes, trying not to enjoy the electrifying feeling of his fingers brushing against his head. Eventually, he pushed softly at Jun-tae’s shoulder to make him turn around and walk him to the door . “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks again,” he said.

“Get home safe,” Hyun-tak replied, smiling.

“Mmh.” Jun-tae waved, and waited until Hyun-tak’s beautiful face disappeared behind the closing door before he started making his way home.

*

“Jun! Over here,” Hyun-tak called from around the corner. Looking effortlessly charismatic, he kept one hand in his pocket as he waved with the other. The shirt of their school uniform was untucked as always, with the first couple of buttons undone. He was wearing a graphic t-shirt underneath, and his school tie was poking out of his pants back pocket.

Over the past few weeks, he’d taken to waiting for Jun-tae every day at this crossing so they could walk to Eunjang together. When he reached him, Hyun-tak threw an arm around his neck, completing his morning routine. Jun-tae was getting used to it, but secretly knew he would never become indifferent to it. He smelled good. Slightly sweet; Jun-tae recognized his shampoo scent because he had used it that one time. Go Hyun-tak might have looked a little rough around the edges, especially if you caught him leaning negligently against a wall in the hallway between classes, sporting his trademark resting no-nonsense face—but if one paid attention, there was a higher chance of catching him holding on to Jun-tae in one way or another, looking bright and gentle, so easy to talk to, so generous with his affection... Jun-tae paid a lot of attention.

With Yeon Si-eun, Jun-tae felt safe. He genuinely thought he could throw anything at him and be sure not to be judged or laughed at. His calm, stoic demeanor annoyed more than a few students and teachers, but Jun-tae found great comfort in it. It was like hanging out with an aloof cat who only ever came to purr in your lap when you were feeling a bit sick. Park Hu-min, on the other hand, was loud and vibrant, and Jun-tae loved basking in his energy. He made him feel smarter and stronger than he ever was, always boisterous in his encouragement, complimenting the tiniest of his achievements (if achievements there even were. He suspected Hu-min just enjoyed seeing him splutter with embarrassment). He loved them.

And Hyun-tak… He’d come to crave the attention Tak was giving him so freely. But he was greedy with it, as if it was never enough. He both reveled in it and despised it, vibrating with happiness when he managed to get a hearty laugh out of him, and enduring terrible moments of sorrow at the thought of the disgust he might see in his eyes one day. He never had that kind of relationship with anyone before, had never felt such a strong desire and aversion for the same thing. It scared him, but he couldn’t stop.

The mere idea of giving up any of the guys because of his ridiculous pining, or worse being given up by any of them, filled him with such intense dread he sometimes stayed up all night thinking about it.

Yeah, Hyun-tak made him feel like that; like Jun-tae had become a black hole. Swallowing his light avidly like a hungry monster. If he wasn’t careful, Hyun-tak might disappear from his life entirely, like a star being absorbed into oblivion.

“What’s with the sour face?” Hyun-tak grumbled, squeezing him closer to him.

“Nothing,” he replied, a little too fast. He flashed him a sincere smile for good measure. “I was just thinking that’s all.”

“About what?”

“Phy—physics. Uh, the laws of gravitation and stuff. I don’t know,” he said quietly, unable to come up with anything else on the spot.

“Huh?” Hyun-tak reeled back, looking baffled. “Si-eun really did a number on you with his Newton’s Laws bullshit. Stop hanging out with him.” He snorted. “Today’s the last day before summer break and you’re thinking about what—physics? Not on my watch.”

“Sorry,” Jun-tae said meekly, unable to hold in a small laugh.

They had arrived at the overpass, and spotted both Hu-min and Si-eun waiting for them on the other side.

“Hey, hurry up,” Hu-min yelled. He also had a morning routine and this was part of it. Si-eun simply nodded hello to them with a small closed-lip smile. “Oh? Oh? Our Si-eun’s smile grew by half a centimeter compared to yesterday?” he exclaimed, with big, exaggerated gestures at uncaring students passing them. He bent over a little to look Si-eun in the eyes, just as Hyun-tak and Jun-tae reached them. He poked his cheek with his index finger. “Ah-ha! You’re in a good mood because it’s the last day of school. I knew this was all an act, loving books and studying so much. You’re like the rest of us.” Si-eun made no move to move his face away or push aside Hu-min’s hand, and returned his stare blankly. “That doesn’t scare me anymore,” Hu-min added, smiling devilishly. “Blink, motherfucker.”

Hyun-tak snorted, amused, pushing past them with Jun-tae in tow. “We’re still on for our weekend trip to celebrate, right?” Jun-tae asked, when Si-eun and Hu-min started walking up the hill to the school gates with them. “I booked us a place for two nights.”

“Mm,” Si-eun said in agreement. “I’ll meet you guys at the bus station tomorrow morning.”

“Me too. Don’t be late, Gotak,” Hu-min warned, walking ahead of them just to flip around and point an accusing finger at his friend.

Hyun-tak tapped Jun-tae’s shoulder where his hand was still resting. “Jun here won’t let me sleep in. Trust.”

Hu-min's crazy finger swung around to point at him. “Jun-tae, listen up. This jackass sleeps through anything. Don’t hold back. If you have to—”

Jun-tae grinned, looking at Hyun-tak from the corner of his eye. “—throw ice water in his face. Understood,” he finished solemnly.

“Hey,” Hyun-tak said in a pout. “I’m letting you sleep over at my place and this is the thanks I get?”

Jun-tae patted his back soothingly, folding right away.

*

“Oh?” Hyun-tak stopped in his tracks, poking his head to peer at Jun-tae around the pile of fluffy blankets and pillows he was carrying. “That’s my shirt. The one I gave you last time. No?”

Jun-tae rubbed his neck uneasily with a towel, trying to keep the collar from getting too wet from his dripping hair. He had tried, multiple times, to give the borrowed shirt back, freshly laundered, neatly folded at the bottom of a bag like it came brand new from a shopping mall—to no avail. Hyun-tak had always refused to take it back, citing increasingly silly reasons for it. I didn’t fit him right (it didn’t fit Jun-tae either), it was itchy (it was very soft), it was too white (it was just white), it wasn’t white enough (...it was, in fact, a perfectly good white t-shirt.)

“Yeah,” Jun-tae said hesitantly. “I wear it to sleep, now.” He went to re-adjust his glasses, only to realize he had taken them off to shower. “It’s, uh, it’s very comfortable.”

Hyun-tak stood there for a moment too long, a statue holding a small mound of bed covers, before he went back into motion. Jun-tae’s vision was a little blurry and he couldn’t make out the details of his expression. “Good,” he said, finally. “That’s good.”

He stepped into his bedroom and Jun-tae followed him. After dropping the stacked blankets on the floor, he started unfolding them to arrange them into a guest bed for the night. Jun-tae grabbed his glasses from the desk and put them back on.

“Let me,” Jun-tae said, bending next to him to help. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t need this many blankets.”

Hyun-tak punched the pillow lightly to fluff it up and straightened up with a grunt. “What are you talking about? I’m sleeping on the floor, you’re taking the bed.”

“Huh?” Jun-tae sounded too loud, even to his own ears. “Why—why would you? Tak, this is your room,” he continued, in his usual subdued tone. “Your house.”

“I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s very thoughtful, but I promise you I’ll be more uncomfortable if you make me sleep on the bed while you’re down on the floor. Seriously.”

Hyun-tak sighed. “You’re really fucking stubborn, you know that?”

Jun-tae could have imagined it but it almost sounded like a compliment in his mouth. “Sorry, but I’m—I’ll take the floor. I’m already stealing your clothes, I’m not gonna steal your bed too.”

Another sigh, more of a grunt this time. “You didn’t steal shit, I gave it to you.” He held out a hand to pull at the t-shirt fabric, like he was appraising its softness. “I like it on you. Just like you’re not stealing my bed, I'm letting you have it.”

“And you like me in your bed?” Jun-tae blurted out, brain catching up with his mouth too late. That wasn’t what he had meant at all. Hand on his heart, it really wasn’t. He inhaled sharply, words tripping over themselves in his throat, while he mentally scrambled to pick the best explanation to correct himself. However, he didn’t have the luxury of letting his instant panic consume him, because just then, the most incredible thing happened.

Hyun-tak flushed pink. Blooming slowly, the blood underneath his skin colored everything from his cheeks, to his ears, and the top of his neck with a soft but unmistakable pink. It was the first time he saw him blush. He’d seen him black and blue from getting bruised, and gushing red from bloody fights, but never… pink. Wasn’t that weird and interesting?

“That’s—that’s not what—,” Jun-tae sputtered, hyperventilating. “I swear—Don’t go and imagine anything weird—It’s because you said—the t-shirt—you like it on me, so I meant—like, the bed, I mean—don’t—Look, I’ll—I’ll take the bed, alright? Thank you very much. It’s settled, no big deal, let’s move on. Moving on. Thank you, yes, I thank you very much for being considerate.” He said the last part in a mix of formal and casual speech, making it sound even more awkward.

Hyun-tak cleared his throat, saving him from blabbering any more stupidities, and left the room without a word. Jun-tae heaved a huge sigh, trying to get his breathing under control. When he came back, just a few seconds later, he was holding a hair dryer, and shoved it at Jun-tae’s chest. “Your hair’s still wet. You’re turning my room into an Olympic swimming pool. Use it.”

Relieved about having something else to do, Jun-tae immediately sat down on the floor, in front of the long, narrow mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Once plugged in, he dutifully started drying his hair, pushing the little trigger-like button to the highest strength so he could hear nothing but the blast of the hot air in his ears. After a minute, his wrist started to cramp a bit from gripping the dryer so tightly, and his arm started hurting from the awkward angle he was holding it, high above his head. He noticed some movement behind him, in the reflection of the mirror, and a second later, he felt Hyun-tak sitting close behind him. He gently plucked the dryer out of Jun-tae’s hand, lowered the heat and strength, and continued drying his hair with one hand, while combing his fingers through it with the other.

Jun-tae’s throat closed up, but this time he didn’t find it in himself to protest or resist. The way Hyun-tak was delicately running his fingers along his scalp, making sure the hair was drying in the correct position, lit up every nerve in his body. The sensation tingled down like little sparks from his nape to all the way down his spine. He scrunched his eyes shut, and squeezed his hands tightly between his crossed legs, willing himself to stay still. Yet, as the minutes passed, he felt himself relax slowly into the touches, finding it harder to keep his head straight: he let it drop forward, chin almost touching his chest, and leaned back imperceptibly against Hyun-tak.

Too soon, the white-noise of the hair dryer stopped. It was like waking up from a deep sleep. He was loath to break the spell and be the first to move away. Tak was still uselessly (but deliciously) carding his fingers against his scalp in quick, light motions, and Jun-tae slowly opened his eyes. He watched, transfixed, their reflections in the mirror; Tak was sitting almost flush against his back, one leg bent at the knee, while the other was comfortably spread along the floor, caging him in. He looked rather serene, and focused on his hair still, so he didn’t meet his gaze in the mirror.

Jun-tae had never touched a drop of alcohol, but he thought this was what it might feel like to be drunk. Because Hyun-tak was still touching him when he didn’t have to, and because of the heavy silence that fell over over them after the hair dryer cut off, and because Jun-tae had melted into a puddle of want, he reckless let his head drop back on Hyun-tak’s shoulder, looking up and to the side at him.

From this angle, Jun-tae could see Hyun-tak look straight ahead at them both in the mirror. He dropped his hand from his hair, to a familiar spot on his shoulder. He must have seen something to make him look down, because he met Jun-tae’s gaze after a second, and angled his head slightly to the side to face him better. Jun-tae surged forward and closed the very small distance between their lips.

It was over very fast; he felt the softness of Tak’s skin against his and the pulled back right after, making a quiet smacking sound as their mouths parted.

Then, chaos. Jun-tae launched himself forward and away from him, almost crashing into the mirror in doing so, while Hyun-tak scooted back on his butt to avoid accidentally getting punched by his flailing arms. Jun-tae shot up—too fast—pins and needles starting to prickle in his legs as he scrambled up to turn off the lights. Darkness descended on them at once, and the lack of visual stimuli had the same calming effect as when one throws a blanket over a bird cage. Too much kept happening in too short of a time, and for Jun-tae, it was either that or running out in the streets barefoot, like a crazy person.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he said to the obscurity, in a weird strangled voice. “We’re getting up early tomorrow.” Feeling around the dark room, he almost tripped on his way to the bed, threw himself on it, turned towards the wall, and remained completely still.

After a very long time, when his eyes got accustomed to the darkness, he heard the tell-tale sound of someone ruffling some covers, and he knew Hyun-tak was lying down on the floor on his makeshift bed.

Jun-tae did not sleep at all that night, staring blankly at the wall, asking himself why he had done that on a loop, until the morning sun rays entered the room.

The bus they had agreed to take was leaving rather early, so when Hyun-tak’s alarm rang, they got ready in absolute silence, working like two ghosts ignoring the other’s presence. Jun-tae didn’t dare look at him, so he spent the morning not seeing much more than his feet. He was so focused on himself, survival instincts kicking in, that they had already reached the bus station before he even started to wonder about how Hyun-tak felt. He had not said a word since last night, and made no move to dispel the obvious heavy atmosphere between them. Jun-tae felt a bit sick. He’d really messed up.

Hu-min and Si-eun were already there, and he barely managed a pained smile when they waved them hello. He chanced a careful glimpse at Hyung-tak and was hit with a wall of ice. He looked closed off, hardened into a shell. If Jun-tae hadn’t weaved such a strong relationship with him over the past year, he would have been scared. Hyun-tak could look incredibly dangerous. But now, he just felt distressed at the thought of having upset him in any way.

Hu-min’s happy chatter became background noise and they naturally settled in pairs in the bus: Si-eun next to Jun-tae, and Hu-min with Hyun-tak. Si-eun threw him a few questioning, worried glances but did not bother him, which he was grateful for. They spent the hour and a half ride in comfortable silence, and when he heard Hu-min ask Hyun-tak if something was wrong (“The fuck is wrong with your face today, dude?”), Jun-tae hurriedly shoved his earbuds in to drown out the answer.

“It should be this way,” he said, uncertain, looking up from his phone after double checking the address. They had gotten off the bus and walked a few steps on a dirt road to seemingly nowhere.

“Then it probably is,” Hu-min said, ever the optimist. “Let’s go!”

Hyun-tak shrugged and followed him. He looked a little more relaxed, probably from spending over an hour with Baku playfully talking his ear off and joking around during the ride.

Si-eun adjusted his bag on his back and followed, a few paces behind them. When he didn’t hear Jun-tae behind him, he turned around expectantly. “You’re not coming?”

“Sorry,” Jun-tae replied, trudging slowly to catch up with him. The gap between Hu-min and Hyun-tak walking ahead, and Si-eun and Jun-tae, grew bigger. “I was daydreaming.”

Si-eun hummed noncommittally, and matched his slow place, sneakers scrunching against the gravel on the road. “You okay?” he asked plainly.

Jun-tae hesitated. He could lie, but Si-eun would know; he could tell the truth, but then Si-eun would know. “Are you still seeing that therapist?” he asked instead.

“Why?”

“Just wondering. I think something’s wrong with me. Maybe I—”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Si-eun interrupted. He said it simply, like he was stating a universal truth. Roses are red, violets are blue, some things are wrong, but not with you.

Jun-tae bit down a bitter smile. “You don’t know that. Maybe I’m awful. Maybe I think of weird things. Maybe you’d be revolted if you knew.”

Si-eun stopped abruptly. Jun-tae did the same, surprised. Ahead, the other two continued to walk, oblivious. “Jun-tae,” he said gravely. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Did you have a fight with Gotak? Did he say that?”

“No,” Jun-tae said, opting for a middle ground between a lie and the truth. He swallowed down childish tears. “But he’s mad at me.”

Si-eun started walking again, and Jun-tae followed suit. “Your friend being upset with you is no reason to go see a psychiatrist,” he said flatly. Jun-tae couldn’t help but smile, eyes still a little wet. “I’m sure he’ll come around. He really likes you,” he added carefully.

“I really like him too,” Jun-tae sighed dejectedly. “That’s what’s wrong.” He deliberately did not say the ‘with me’ but he trusted Si-eun being perceptive enough to understand the implication.

Jun-tae’s heart was beating double-time. It was the first time he was admitting it out loud, albeit vaguely, and to someone else on top of that. Si-eun hummed again, pensively this time. “Maybe you should tell him that,” he said, equally as vague.

“Are you going to tell me about your Third Law again? The equal and opposite reaction thing doesn’t sound like it would apply here.”

Si-eun almost smiled. “It worked last time, didn’t it?”

“I misunderstood what you meant, and I got beaten up.”

“If Gotak beats you up, Baku will kill him.” This time, Jun-tae giggled at the absurdity.

“Guys!” Hu-min called out to them excitedly. “Found it!”

“Okay,” Jun-tae responded, but his voice felt a little weak, so he raised a thumb up for good measure.

*

The first day went by quite pleasantly, given the circumstances. Hyun-tak was back to normal, except he went to great lengths to avoid being alone with Jun-tae, and made sure not to address him directly. Jun-tae did the same, relieved in spite of himself by the reprieve it gave him. He was able to think of something else, and stuck to Hu-min like a duckling most of the time. Trying to rein in his liveliness kept him busy until lunch, and it drained him enough he was left alone to laze around all afternoon at the old house he’d booked for them, while the rest of them went out to the village for ice cream and groceries.

After dinner, they played a bunch of games and ate junk food until it made them nauseous, which made them call it a night.

The house was rather rudimentary, and although there was one other room which could have served as the bedroom, they all decided to sleep in the main room, lined up next to one another like sardines. Hu-min was delighted at the arrangement, calling it ‘romantic’.

Jun-tae was the last one to shower, so when he came back to the room, he thought he wouldn't have much of a choice with his spot on the floor. Hu-min was lying on the far left, and Si-eun closed the bracket on the right side. They were both already sleeping and although the light was off, Jun-tae could see there were two empty spots in the middle. Hyun-tak wasn’t here.

Taking a deep breath and conjuring the very last of his courage, he slowly slid the door open so as to not wake up his friends, and stepped outside, where he knew Hyun-tak was. He spotted him right away: he was lying on his back on the large outdoor table where they’d eaten lunch earlier. He looked good like that, one bare foot resting on the table while the other was on the ground—he seemed carefree. Jun-tae approached the table and sat gingerly next to him.

Hyun-tak only acknowledged his presence with a quick, furtive glance.

“Tak,” Jun-tae began, having no idea what he was going to say next. “I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorr—”

Hyun-tak didn’t move from his position, resolutely looking at the night sky. “Sorry for what?” he asked, cutting him off.

“Becoming a black hole,” he mumbled to himself, low enough Hyun-tak couldn't catch it. "You know why," he added in his normal voice.

“If you can’t say it, then I don’t accept your apology.”

Jun-tae’s resolve crumbled at his cold, detached tone. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he said quietly, voice wobbly. “I won’t ever do it again, I promise.”

Hyun-tak finally straightened up and turned to look at him. Jun-tae couldn’t prevent the few tears that had pooled in his eyes from falling, which he thought was terrible timing. Hyun-tak was going to think he was truly pathetic.

“Do you know why I’m angry at all?”

Jun-tae sniffed. “I think, yeah.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, softening his voice. “Don’t cry, please.” He reached for his cheek with his hand and brushed some of the wetness away. Jun-tae could tell he had done it out of habit, because he froze right after, registering the motion a beat too late. He retracted his hand and sighed heavily. “I’m angry because you iced me out. What kind of friend—no, what kind of man are you to kiss me and then decide all on your own it did not happen? What was I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?”

“I didn’t—” Jun-tae swallowed thickly, trying to get himself under control. “Didn’t know what to do. I was scared you would—I don’t know.”

“Don’t I get a say? Do I not deserve the choice to react at all? What did you think I was going to do? Punch you? Throw you out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. That’s what you thought. You thought I would be violent.”

“No!” Jun-tae exclaimed, alarmed at the turn the conversation was taking. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t exactly the truth. He had feared Hyun-tak’s reaction, because he expected it to be repulsion. He hadn’t been scared of being assaulted, but he had been terrified that Hyun-tak would think less of him. “I mean… Even if you had been. It’s okay. I would understand.”

“I really wish you didn’t think of me that way,” Hyun-tak said, sadly.

Jun-tae felt even worse than before. “I’m sorry,” he said again, uselessly. “I’m really sorry, I'm doing this all wrong. I was a coward. I don’t think you’re violent.” He went on, speaking too fast, meaning each word more and more as he spoke them out. Anything to make Hyun-tak sound less sad. “I don’t. You’re the nicest person I know. At least with me, I mean. Like, you can be kinda hurtful with others, but you’re very sweet. To me. Yes. You wait for me before class, and you let me borrow your clothes even though they look better on you, and you smell nice. And I—I really liked that. I really like that. I really like you. To be honest. Yes. Sorry.”

He felt very nervous still, but there, it was out—it didn’t crush him from the inside. He felt better.

Hyun-tak's face gradually lost some of its tension. He continued to stare at Jun-tae, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. “I would have kissed you back,” he said.

Jun-tae’s eyes went wide. He blinked very fast. The lightness he’d felt after his botched confession flew away, and a new feeling took its place. Astonishment, stupefaction, incredulity—all these things that made people go ‘huh?’

“Huh?” he said.

“Dumbass,” Hyun-tak said, without any heat. He shook his head and craned his neck to look up at the stars again.

“That’s not possible.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It’s not funny, Tak.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said.”

Jun-tae’s hands were clammy, and he nervously rubbed them on his pants. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. Hyun-tak stayed silent, looking up at the stars, so Jun-tae took this opportunity to really look at him, from another perspective for once. He seemed soft and innocuous, stargazing with his legs crossed and leaning back on his hands. He couldn’t be sure because the only source of light was the moon, but it looked like he was blushing like he had last night. And if Jun-tae focused a bit more, he could tell his chest was rising up and down rather fast, as if he was breathing heavily. He was nervous too.

“You mean it.”

Hyun-tak ripped his eyes from the sky, facing him once again. “Mmh,” he confirmed, nodding imperceptibly.

Maintaining eye contact, Jun-tae kicked off his slides, and lifted his feet on the platform. He wriggled across the surface, using his feet as traction, and stopped at Hyun-tak’s side, whose body, except for his face, was still angled away from him. Jun-tae crossed his legs, creating a natural gap between them. Watching him from this close, Jun-tae could see there was indeed some color spreading on Tak’s face. Because he hadn’t looked away once, and because he looked so lovely and expectant, Jun-tae felt brave.

He leaned in, slowly. His legs were in the way, so he laid a hand out in front of him, almost behind Tak’s back, to steady himself. But he didn’t have to lean any further in, as Tak met him halfway.

Their lips brushed very lightly, and it sent a lightning bolt through his veins. He pressed in closer, animated by the familiar hunger he’d tried so hard to tamp down for a very long time. His eyes fluttered shut, and his focus zeroed in on the feeling of their skin touching. The air was hot and humid, but Hyun-tak’s mouth felt hotter. His other hand naturally found its way up to Tak’s face, thumb settling on his cheek and fingers just behind his ear, the tips of them grazing his hair. Almost automatically, as if it wasn’t the first time he’d done this, he applied the slightest pressure there, tilting Tak’s face to the side. He went easily, and Jun-tae opened his mouth to catch Tak’s upper lip between his. He felt them slot together perfectly, as Tak returned the kiss, pushing his face even closer.

A switch in his brain suddenly flipped on. “I would have kissed you back,” Tak had said. And so Jun-tae let him. Maybe it was the way he relaxed into it, or maybe it was because his hand slid from Tak’s face down to the base of his neck—but Tak deepened the kiss suddenly. He turned to face him fully, and curled both hands around his waist. Jun-tae gasped, a little ticklish, which only seemed to spur him on. Tak sucked his bottom lip between his mouth, and smoothed his tongue over it. Jun-tae felt something break in his mind, like a wall starting to crack and crumble on itself, and when Tak pulled back abruptly, there was a soft, smacking wet sound.

It was over too soon; he wanted more. He reopened his eyes reluctantly. Hyun-tak was breathing slow but heavy, each breath carefully controlled, but Jun-tae could feel his erratic pulse under the palm of his hand, still flush against his neck. His skin felt sticky in the warm, summery night air. His eyes drifted from Hyun-tak’s lips, then up to his half-lidded eyes, and back to his lips again. Hyun-tak smiled, Jun-tae’s stomach swooped, and they leaned in once more.

This time, Hyun-tak deepened the kiss right away, curling his tongue against the seam of Jun-tae’s lips until he parted them with an unsteady breath. Tak tightened his grip on Jun-tae’s t-shirt, pulling at his waist, scrunching up the fabric between his fist, and feeling around with his other hand to lift the hem, until he was able to slip his palm against his bare skin. It pulled a shaky, involuntary noise out of Jun-tae—a little whine, muffled against Tak’s lips. Tak’s hand twitched, tightening even more against his side. The contrast between the delicate, inviting movements, and the rough, callous texture of his hands, which were still scratched up and scarring from all his past fights, was intoxicating. The deliciously searing heat of his touch left small sparks in its wake, as it sweeped higher to his ribs, then around and down to the small of his back. Jun-tae raised his other hand to thread his fingers through Tak’s hair, delirious.

When the kiss slowed down, they held each other close even after their lips detached themselves from the other. Jun-tae kept his eyes closed for another second, basking in it until he couldn’t take it anymore.

How nice it was to want something, and then to have it. To truly desire someone, and for them to want you back.

Hyun-tak pulled back a bit, keeping his hand under Jun-tae’s t-shirt. He lightly pinched his cheek with his other hand, smiling affectionately. “Wearing my shirt again, huh?” he said.

“You said it wasn’t yours anymore,” Jun-tae shot back petulantly.

“That’s right,” he said, fighting a laugh. He gathered Jun-tae’s hands in his lap and held them in his own.

“What do we do now,” Jun-tae breathed out, a little dazed.

“Now, we go back inside. And sleep.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, I’m thinking… barbecue. Baku and I bought a ton of meat today. Can’t wait.”

Jun-tae blinked twice, stunned, before he dissolved into helpless giggles, which made Hyun-tak laugh in return. He’d never felt this elated. He was too hot and sweaty, with a few fresh mosquito bites on his ankles, but he was happier than ever.

His laughter subsided, so Hyun-tak leaned one last time and placed a sweet, innocent smooch on his lips before he got up, sliding into his shoes. “Come on, Jun.” Jun-tae obeyed, scrambling to follow. He’d go anywhere with Hyun-tak if he called him like that, if he looked at him like that—with a loving voice, smiling eyes, and an expectant hand stretched out to him, waiting to be held.

Jun-tae gratefully took his hand, helping him keep his balance as he slipped back into his slides, one at a time. They walked the very short distance from the outdoor table to the front door of the accommodation, intertwining their fingers. Hyun-tak brought a finger across his lips, silently shushing Jun-tae, before he carefully and quietly slid the door open.

They tiptoed to their sleeping mats, still holding hands, only letting go when they had to get lower and finally lie down. Sandwiched between Si-eun and Hu-min, they rolled to face each other. Jun-tae waited a few minutes for his peripheral vision to kick in and help him adjust to the dark. It was still blurry without his glasses—which he’d folded next to his pillow—but still he distinguished Hyun-tak’s features.

Acting on a sudden urge, he reached his hand towards Tak’s face, just caressing the sensitive pads of his fingertips against his lips. They were soft. His thumb brushed his bottom lip. Lightning quick, Hyun-tak grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Sleep,” he whispered.

The slight pressure it created around his wrist felt exhilarating, but Jun-tae relented, and dropped his hand between them. He couldn’t be sure, but Hyun-tak looked amused. He booped his nose. Scooting closer to Jun-tae, he propped himself up on an elbow, and leaned down to whisper something else in his ear. “Dumbass.”

Jun-tae pushed at his shoulder lightly, trying not to laugh. Hu-min rolled over on his stomach, but didn’t wake up. Hyun-tak settled back on the bedding, still facing Jun-tae.

He didn’t think it would be possible because of the intense excitement running through his entire body, but Jun-tae fell asleep like that, exhausted from a sleepless night and, all in all, a very eventful day.

*

He woke up to the sound of Si-eun padding across the room to go and start cooking breakfast. He blearily opened his eyes, with the distinct, unpleasant, deeply summer-like feeling of having sweated through the night before it dried off by morning.

He had apparently moved down quite a bit during the night, and burrowed his way against Hyun-tak’s side. He was curled up into a ball, face smooshed against Tak’s side, with an arm proprietarily thrown around his stomach. Hyun-tak’s arm rested comfortably on his shoulder, keeping him from rolling away.

He managed to disentangle himself from him quite easily, and blindly groped around with one hand for his glasses. Hyun-tak did not stir, dead to the world. Once he put his glasses back on, he sat next to him for an instant, and smiled to himself as he watched him sleep peacefully. Hu-min was also still asleep, buried under the covers on the other side of him.

Jun-tae joined Si-eun outside, who was busy trying to light a fire under the huge iron pot. “It’s almost noon. I was thinking of grilling the meat for breakfast,” he said in lieu of a good morning.

Jun-tae nodded enthusiastically. “That would be nice. The guys will love it.” Si-eun glanced at him curiously. “What?” Jun-tae asked uneasily.

“You don’t look like you got beaten up,” Si-eun replied flatly, looking back at his furnace. He flicked a blowtorch on to heat up the coals faster.

Jun-tae gawked at him, unsure how to answer, but Si-eun didn’t look that interested in it anyway. Jun-tae looked down bashfully, and started playing around with rock, pushing it with the toe of his slide. “Hyun-tak would never,” he finally said in a voice he hoped was firm. Hyun-tak has never given him any reason to think that.

“Mm,” Si-eun hummed, as always.

“I like him,” Jun-tae added carefully, choosing to be ambiguous on purpose, ready to tack on a quick ‘as a friend!’ if needed.

“And he likes you,” Si-eun said in a tone of agreement, just as ambiguously. He was busy with placing the lid, bottom-side up, on top of the cauldron to prepare the surface for the meat. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Jun-tae swallowed nervously. “You don’t hate me?” he asked, in a thin voice. Si-eun finally tore his attention away from his kitchen preparations and looked Jun-tae in the eyes. He blinked slowly, looking dead serious, before shaking his head no. Jun-tae started fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, relieved but still anxious. “Do you think—what about Hu-min?”

Si-eun shrugged. “I don’t know.” Jun-tae deflated. “But Gotak will kill him if he so much looks at you the wrong way. So.”

“Okay,” Jun-tae said, weakly.

“I don’t think you two dating will change much of anything anyway. You’re already stuck to each other 24/7. Hu-min won’t be able to tell the difference,” Si-eun added, unprompted. “Can you go get the meat? The lid is hot enough, we can start.”

So much for ambiguity and double-meanings. Jun-tae coughed to avoid choking on his spit, and uselessly readjusted his glasses. Si-eun began washing some rice, looking utterly unconcerned, so he spun around and got back inside.

As he beelined for the small fridge, he almost crashed into Hyun-tak, who was still half-asleep, squinting fuzzily. “Woah,” he said. “Where are you running off to?” He examined him warily, and after a beat, began to run his hands through Jun-tae’s hair to flatten it. It was probably sticking every which way from a severe case of bedhead. “You look crazy,” he said casually, too sleepy for the fondness to come through in full force.

“Are we dating?” Jun-tae asked in a low voice, almost to himself. He felt a bit hysterical.

Hyun-tak rubbed a hand over his face, trying to look at Jun-tae properly. “I sure hope so,” he grumbled, still trying to arrange his hair into something acceptable with the other.

Jun-tae pressed himself close to him, arms circling his waist. He hugged him tight, hands splayed against his back. Hyun-tak returned the hug, embracing his shoulders, and guided Jun-tae’s face to rest on top of his collarbones. Still locked in the hug, he started caressing the back of his head idly, and Jun-tae’s anxiety gradually evaporated.

“Si-eun is waiting for the pork belly,” Jun-tae said, against Hyun-tak's neck.

“See? I told you we’d get barbecue today,” Hyun-tak replied, pulling his head back a little to look down at him. “I never lie. Trust me from now on.”

Jun-tae broke into a wide smile, and snuggled back into the hug, squeezing Hyun-tak harder. “Mm. I trust you.”