Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started with Yeongyi, as most terrible things did.

“Ugh, you guys. It’s just chapstick! It’ll be fun, come on, please? My TikTok follower stats are literally abysmal.”

Suho thought her lack of shamelessness would’ve been impressive, if it weren’t the bane of his existence right now.

They were seated in Sieun’s living room, Suho and Sieun on the couch and Yeongyi on the armchair across from them. It was late, and the last dregs of sunlight were filtering into the room as the streetlamps gradually turned on.

It would’ve been the perfect atmosphere to just relax after the long day he’d had, if not for Yeongyi’s new idea to grow her TikTok account.

“A revival of an iconic trend!” she proclaimed. “The chapstick challenge!”

Suho and Sieun were utterly confused, and after a brief Google search, this was what they discovered: One person applied a flavored lip balm to their lips. Another person, sometimes blindfolded, attempted to guess the flavor. Guessing could involve kissing, smelling, or even licking the lip balm wearer’s lips.

Suho could do nothing but gape at the screen. He didn’t even want to know what kind of expression Sieun must have been wearing.

Getting over his momentary loss of words, Suho switched his phone off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeongyi, I don’t care about whatever bullshit idea you’re trying to push onto us. And listen to me very carefully—I don’t care about your stupid TikTok following.”

He was hyper-aware of Sieun pressed up against his side on the couch, knees brushing. On the outside, Sieun’s face was fixed in that everlasting inexpressive look, but Suho noticed him growing uneasy.

Yeongyi began whining again. “But guys! Just this one thing for me, please! I’ll never ask you to hold my mini ring-light for me ever again. Besides, you two know each other well. Who else am I supposed to ask?”

Yeongyi was right—Suho knew him well. Too well. He knew how the younger immediately tensed up against him, he knew how the barely-there tic in his jaw made an appearance, and he knew how his hands tightened where they rested on his thighs.

It was because he knew him too well that he couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—ever let Sieun be uncomfortable because of him.

And Suho was ready to admit one thing to himself. He was… kinda onboard with the idea. He figured he’d pretend to turn it over in his head, let the idea marinate, then ‘hesitantly’ accept. However, Sieun’s apparent reluctance completely knocked that idea out of the park. Honestly, he felt guilty. Guilty for deciding what he was going to say without even taking what Sieun wanted into consideration.

Suho must have taken too long to respond, because Sieun opened his mouth to speak. “Mm. Don’t you have any other friends to ask?”

That was strange. Suho heard an underlying layer of… something in Sieun’s voice. It sounded as firm as the time he told Yeongbin’s lackeys to back off. A warning? He turned to scrutinize his face, trying to glean a better idea of how he was feeling.

At Sieun’s words, Yeongyi leapt to her feet. “Yah, Yeon Sieun! You asshole!” She began shaking her finger in his face, which Suho assumed was supposed to be intimidating. It really wasn’t. “You’re the one who freed me from the gang. You know that I only know you guys and Seokdae. That was a totally cheap shot!”

“Yes, us and Seokdae. But aren’t you going to ask that girl I’ve seen you talking to? Nam Jeong-ah?”

A girl? Oh, this was news to Suho. A wicked grin slowly started to grow on his face as he watched Yeongyi go red and start to splutter.

“Ugh— you— how did you even know— Sieun, you creep—“

Suho felt his smile stretch even wider. He was going to grill her about this so hard. After he teased her, of course. “Hey, Yeongyi-yah. If you’ve already got a girlfriend, why are you asking us? Go do your gross couple-y shit and leave the single people alone.”

At that, her face grew incredulous. “Okay, well, first of all,” she began. “We’re just talking right now. And gross couple shit? Have you seen yourselves? I literally saw you use your finger to eat leftover ice cream from Sieun’s lips. You two already act like one of you is going to keel over and die if the other is too far apart for too long! If anything, you’re worse.”

This was all said in one breath. Suho was surprised she didn’t just explode on the spot. The power behind her words in this lecture was immense, and he found himself unwillingly sinking backward into the couch as she spoke.

Sieun remained unmoving by his side, simply staring at Yeongyi. Suho had hoped that teasing her a bit would get Sieun to relax, maybe see his lips quirk up like they did more often. The only thing he got for his efforts, however, was a stiff Yeon Sieun and an angry woman yelling in his face.

Suho just watched as she kept going, jaw slightly clenching. It had to be enough by now, right? Surely a TikTok challenge couldn’t possibly be this serious.

“Besides, it’s not as if Sieun doesn’t see—”

The moment those words left Yeongyi, Suho finally saw a significant change in Sieun. His shoulders twitched and somehow pulled tighter across than before, which shouldn’t even have been possible. He knew Sieun had become a bit more carefree since making friends at Eunjang, so why was he still so tense now?

In the split second he watched Sieun change, their eyes caught. That’s when he saw it: a flicker of… something. Something in Sieun’s eyes, something so fleeting, that Sieun would’ve missed it if he weren’t paying attention. He couldn’t discern it, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

Yeongyi was cut off by Sieun abruptly standing up and moving toward her. From his vantage point on the couch, Suho couldn’t see his face, but he saw how Sieun’s shoulders shook slightly as he made his way toward her.

Yeongyi froze. Her eyes went wide, and her words stuttered to a halt. Suho couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t as if Sieun didn’t see what? What could she possibly have said that made Sieun so upset? What could she have said that would warrant so much fear from her?

Sieun didn’t even glance at him as he dragged Yeongyi out of the apartment. There was no explanation, no justification. Just the rapid shuffling of feet and the click of a lock. The silence that remained was deafening.

Suho was left reeling. That entire moment couldn’t have lasted more than five seconds. What the fuck had just happened? Sieun had always been protective of his space, but he thought they were past that. Besides, that wasn’t about simple privacy. That moment was too serious and too charged to just be about keeping things private.

Suho felt that Park Humin’s low IQ must have been rubbing off on him, because he had never felt so lost in his life.

The thing was, if Suho had looked at Sieun just a moment longer, a tad bit closer, he would’ve seen the blush creeping up his neck and staining his ears red.

+

Yeongyi’s voice broke the silence almost immediately after the door shut behind Sieun. “What’s wrong with you? Why did you drag me out here?”

Sieun’s jaw clenched. The air around him felt oppressive—too thick to breathe and too heavy to bear. He’d been holding everything back for so long, since the day he was able to see Suho looking back at him again.

“You really want to know?” he retorted. He didn’t care if she knew he was upset. Out of all of his friends, Yeongyi was the one who knew him best after Suho. She had stuck with him while he tried to keep moving on with life even when Suho didn’t.

Her eyes softened for a moment, but she pressed on. “Sieun, you idiot, of course I do. And I can see how you look at him, you know. Anyone can.”

And that’s what really sent him into a spiral. He thought his feelings would stay safe with him, but Yeongyi found out. Yeongyi knew. And if she knew, who’s to say Suho didn’t?

He balled his fists to stop his hands from shaking. “Save it, Yeongyi. I don’t want you to try and help me, or… or meddle in my life.” His words came out sharp and more biting than he intended. Her face fell slightly, and he darted his eyes away to avoid seeing the hurt on her face. He sighed and softened his voice. “I don’t want anything to go wrong. I just got Suho back, and I’m not…”

The words were left unsaid, but there was no question about what Sieun was thinking. I’m not ready to lose him again. Especially not over something as trivial as chapstick.

Yeongyi simply stood there with her hands clasped, but her eyes flicked upward at his words. She sighed too and took a step toward him. “Dude… I know you’re scared. But I wasn’t kidding in there. He already treats you like you’re his boyfriend, you know that, right? Don’t freak out at just the idea of you being that close, because I promise you, he notices. You’re not going to lose him, Sieun, because you already have him. He’s yours.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and he could feel the blush he had just willed away return with a vengeance. “Don’t say that…” He turned his head, ashamed of how quickly his entire being reacted. “I don’t know how to do this. He’s my first… everything. I don’t want to risk anything that could drive him away from me.”

Yeongyi took another step and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t going to force you to do the challenge. But you have to stop acting like he’s going to break into a run if you get too close, because that’s what’s going to end up ruining it for you. It won’t be the chapstick, or whatever dumb excuse you’ll make up.”

Her words were a bit harsh for someone trying to offer reassurance, but he didn’t mind. He preferred it like this, and it was the reason why he was so grateful she had been with him all this time.

And Sieun knew, you know. He knew that Suho cared for him a lot, he knew that Suho was the one being clingy and lovey. He wished he didn’t—that he were oblivious. He didn’t know how to explain the way his stomach twisted in Suho’s presence, equal parts delight and equal parts despair. He didn’t know how to explain the way he felt about the fact that Suho was so close, just within reach, but Sieun would never be able to close the distance. He just didn’t know how to deal with the uncertainty of it all.

Fucking complicated feelings. Sieun had been working hard to ignore them, by just putting his head down and studying, and savoring each moment with Suho. He just couldn’t believe chapstick was what prompted such a direct confrontation of his feelings.

It didn’t matter what Yeongyi said about Suho though. She was just trying to be optimistic in a world that normally hadn’t allowed Sieun—or her—to afford that. He had to move on from this. He refused to lose Suho’s friendship. Although he knew it would never be enough for him, he’d make do with what he got. He always had.

He shook his head slightly, as if his thoughts would shake loose from the infectious grip they had on his mind. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. But I’ll help you with your challenge.”

It was almost funny how Yeongyi lit up instantaneously. “Really? You’ll actually do it?!”

“No.”

“Oh,” she pouted. “Then what was the point of saying that?”

“I said I’d help you, so that’s what I’m going to do.” At that, Sieun grabbed her arm again and dragged her back inside to where Suho was still seated.

Yeongyi snatched her arm away and muttered angrily, while Suho lazily looked up from his phone screen and scowled. “Finally remembered me, huh?”

“Sorry,” Sieun said. “Yeongyi’s been complaining about her lack of friends. Do you want to introduce the others to her?”

Yeongyi glared at Sieun and said, “What does this have to do with helping me with my chapstick challenge?”

Suho just looked at Sieun, gears turning in his head as to why this was relevant. What did this have to do with the chapstick challenge? Wasn’t she looking for two people comfortable enough with each other to—oh.

Oh.

He smiled up at Sieun. “Is this you finally letting me do something about Park Humin and Gotak?”

The quirk of Sieun’s lips was enough of an answer for him.

Chapter Text

Sieun is a very smart person. There’s no doubt about it. The sky is blue, grass is green, and Yeon Sieun is a genius. Suho knew this from the very beginning—before he even had the chance to knock over Sieun’s pencil case.

He still remembers it vividly: the rush of adrenaline surging through his veins as he weaved through punches and kicked those cocky baseball assholes down a few pegs, smug grin on his lips. They weren’t even worth breaking a sweat over, and he knew it. But that buzz was nothing compared to the jolt he felt when his eyes met Sieun’s. The other boy had barely lifted his head, big brown eyes peeking up through long lashes. He spoke softly, but his voice was deeper than he expected—low, steady, and enough to send a shiver down his spine.

It was a good thing that Suho prided himself on self-restraint, because the second time he ever spoke to Sieun, he used the phrase he’d been repeating to himself ever since that day. Don’t cross the line. He had half a mind to jump his bones each time he caught even the slightest glimpse of him, but he knew Sieun wouldn’t appreciate that.

What else could he do? He decided he would simply keep an eye on him and discreetly seek him out everywhere he went.

Well. Discreet lasted for about a day.

He ended up watching out for him against Yeongbin and his wannabe goons, throwing shoes and interrupting when they tried to mess with him. He tried his hardest to stay out of Yeon Sieun’s way, because the boy seemed content in his walls of isolation and hard work, even if Suho wanted nothing more than to tear them down.

Of course, then, that led to him telling Sieun that they must have been married in their past lives and super nonchalantly showing up at his apartment and demanding hospitality.

Okay, so maybe he’s not good with the feelings thing. Sue him.

But one day, Oh Beomseok sought him out, and he just knew it would be the start of his downfall. Not because Beomseok did what he did, but because it finally brought him and Sieun together and he just knew that he’d never be able to wrench his eyes away from him ever again. He loved watching the subtle ways Sieun’s face betrayed his thoughts, and he decided that his favorite one was when he could see the gears turning in that beautiful head, working to come up with his next bright idea.

However, Suho was rapidly coming to the conclusion that this arrangement with Dumb and Dumber was definitely not one of his brightest ideas.

He figured out pretty quickly that Sieun wasn’t comfortable doing Yeongyi’s challenge with him. Understandable, but he couldn’t help the small twist in his chest each time he remembered how unwilling Sieun had seemed. I can’t be that bad, right?

Regardless, he understood Sieun’s reasoning for bringing Baku and Gotak into this. Those two had known each other since, as Suho liked to put it, the day Baku must’ve been able to form a complete thought—which placed the start of their timeline around the fourth grade. Frankly, Suho was jealous of their relationship. He wished he could’ve been by Sieun’s side since childhood. Wished he could’ve been the person to ensure the other boy wouldn’t have spent half his life steeped in loneliness.

Like wishing would do you any good. That twist in his chest tightened. You found him and still left him by himself for two years.

No. That wasn’t right. Sieun had made friends—good friends. But Suho was a selfish, stupid idiot. He wanted to be the one who had been there through everything: when Sieun broke his arm for him, when he got blacklisted, when he dealt with those fuckers from Eunjang and the Union.

Ultimately, though, Suho knew that if he’d been around, Sieun probably wouldn’t have gotten close to the others—and Suho wasn’t selfish enough to take that away from him. Besides, as much as he made fun of them, they were becoming good friends of his, too. Part of him always worried that they’d end up becoming a repeat of Beomseok, but his fears lessened with each passing day spent together. He trusted them.

Well, sort of. That statement was definitely a stretch. He didn’t trust them to not say something that would set Yeongyi off, or vice versa. It was like dumping barrels of lighter fluid onto a wildfire. Chaos. Suho wasn’t entirely sure he was ready. From the way Sieun kept fidgeting on his right, the latter was also starting to think this wasn’t a great idea.

On his left, however, Yeongyi was the picture of excitement.

“Ah, finally, new people!” she said, practically skipping, hands clasped together as she smiled up at the sky. “The only people I’ve been talking to are you guys, the auntie who runs the restaurant, and those rude customers I’ve been having to serve. Look, I know I’m best at tearing into them, but only giving them to me isn’t fair, right?”

Suho shook off the weight of his earlier thoughts and smirked in her direction. “The only people, huh? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that Nam… whatever her name was. And dude, if you wanted to avoid assholes, you should’ve said something sooner… we wouldn’t have made you meet these guys.”

“Jeong-ah doesn’t count. And stop mentioning her, I’m keeping her far, far away from you guys,” she sniffed. “Besides, if I could deal with you for as long as I have, I’m sure your new friends will be a piece of cake.”

At that, Suho let out an offended yell and promptly smacked the back of her head. This led to a brief tussle that ended in Yeongyi yelling at Suho to stop, stop for god’s sake, she couldn’t meet new people with a bird’s nest for hair.

He was still untangling his fingers from her now-wild hair when he heard a barely perceptible huff beside him. Suho’s head snapped around, wanting to confirm if he had picked up on it correctly. Yeon Sieun just laughed? He laughed!

Okay, well, laugh was definitely a stretch. It didn’t even qualify as a chuckle. But going by the twitch of his lips, this was his equivalent of Yeongyi’s giddy skipping.

Occurrences like these were becoming more frequent, ever since Sieun had found a home in his new friends. Suho knew that, but he didn’t think he’d ever stop in his tracks when he got to witness them.

His eyes traced Sieun’s features—his jawline, the curve of his nose, the slope of his cheek—all softened by the golden light of evening. He wanted to imprint this image in his memory forever. The smile was barely there, but Suho saw the spark of mirth in his eyes. He was struck with the sudden, intense urge to pepper kisses over his eyebags, over those lips that would seriously benefit from Yeongyi’s challenge, and—wow, he needed to look away before Sieun noticed him eyeing his mouth like a creep.

He turned his gaze forward, shoved his hands into his pockets, and slowed his pace to match Sieun’s. Their shoulders brushed lightly. He couldn’t be close to Sieun the way he truly wanted, so he’d settle for these small, friendly touches. Sieun didn’t even flinch. He never did. He always just… accepted Suho’s clinginess.

Maybe I could hold his hand like he’s mine someday.

Agh! What the hell was his brain doing, throwing this crap at him now? He shook his head, as if the motion might turn his thoughts to smoke and scatter them into the night air. They were on a mission. He had to focus.

It had been a few days since the initial chapstick discussion with Yeongyi, and they’d had to work around her shift schedule and some new schedule… regimen… thing Baku and Gotak had cooked up for themselves. Suho didn’t know what it was all about, and he really didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty of it anyway. Sieun was the one coordinating this meeting, naturally, and Suho figured it was better to leave these things to him.

They walked in silence the rest of the way as the air cooled and the sky gradually shed its golden hue, until they finally arrived at their destination: Baku’s dad’s chicken restaurant.

Suho brought his hands together with a smack and began rubbing them devilishly. “Alright gang, Operation Bakugotak is a go.”

Yeongyi just scoffed and shoved past, walking into the restaurant with barely concealed urgency. Damn, she was serious about being sick of them.

Suho pouted and turned to Sieun. “Hey, Sieunnie, you think Operation Bakugotak is creative, right?”

Sieun blinked at him slowly, expression unreadable as ever. “It’s… descriptive.”

Suho groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s a polite way of saying it sucks.”

“It is accurate,” Sieun offered, lips twitching again. “Unfortunately.”

“Okay, rude,” Suho huffed. “You know, I work hard on these things. I brainstormed for a full thirty seconds.”

“That long?” Sieun deadpanned. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Suho squinted at him, pointing a dramatic finger. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, or I’d walk in there and make you introduce them AND explain this plan yourself.”

Sieun visibly balked a little, eyelashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly and turned his head. Suho thought he saw a flash of red spreading on the back of his neck, but Sieun turned back before he could be sure.

Suho, on the other hand, was two seconds away from literally eating his own foot. He cleared his throat and attempted to push through. “I mean— you know— pretty in like… a normal way. A not-weird way. Yeah. Not that… not that I think about your face a lot… or something.”

Yeah. Real smooth. Maybe he’d be able to kill himself by choking on a drumstick.

Before he could dig a deeper hole, he blurted out a quick, “Let’s get this over with,” and moved forward to get inside.

He held the door open for Sieun and trailed in behind him, hoping his prediction of a wildfire wasn’t going to come true.

Instead, he was pleasantly surprised, greeted with the sight of Yeongyi seated at a booth and excitedly chattering with Juntae. However, Baku and Gotak were conspicuously absent.

Suho slid into the seat next to Yeongyi while Sieun lowered himself across from them with that same smooth, quiet grace that always made Suho’s stupid heart skip.

Juntae looked up with a wide, sunny smile. “Hi guys! Your friend is really nice! You didn’t tell me she liked Demon Slayer.”

“Yeongyi? Nice? That’s a first. And I didn’t know she liked Demon Slayer. Or you,” Suho snorted.

“Well, it’s excusable for you, Suho, since we’re newer friends. But Sieun, come on! We’ve been close for a while now. I remember talking about cutting down Choi Hyoman with a Nichirin Sword.” Juntae turned and pouted at the boy beside him.

Suho fought off the sudden, irrational urge to pinch his cheeks.

He still found it hilarious that Sieun’s closest friends were mostly fighters—rough around the edges, all bite and bark—except for this one. Juntae, a bright little anomaly. But honestly, it made sense. The universe had handed Sieun a ball of sunshine to balance out the quiet storm that followed him everywhere.

Sieun started to reply—probably to offer one of his usual dry retorts—but before he could get a word out, the kitchen doors slammed open.

Baku barreled out like an overgrown ox, hands on his hips and grinning from ear to ear. Behind him, Gotak followed, teetering with four sizzling plates of chicken stacked along his arms.

“Can… can someone grab like… a plate or something?” Suho almost winced at how shaky his voice was, and Juntae practically leaped across Sieun’s lap to help.

Yeongyi shot an incredulous look at Suho and he simply shrugged. “Told you, if you wanted to avoid assholes, these are not the right people to meet. Other than Juntae.”

Juntae had managed to escape from his seat but was now struggling to grab the plates from Gotak. They steamed from the heat, yet somehow didn’t burn clean through Gotak’s hoodie. What in the everloving fuck were they doing in that kitchen?

Sieun eyed the scene critically and spoke up, voice admonishing, “Baku, shouldn’t you be helping Hyeontak?”

Baku glanced lazily over his shoulder at the flailing duo, then turned back, waving a hand dismissively. “Nah, bro, he’s got it. Anyways! I believe we have a challenge to get to, don’t we, buddy?”

“Don’t fucking buddy me, you first-rate asshole,” Gotak all but spat, walking up next to him, setting his two plates down with a dramatic thunk. Juntae appeared to have sourced some mitts and was trotting behind Gotak with the other plates. “I would’ve died and the coroners would’ve written ‘death by fried chicken’ on my death certificate, and it would have been all your fault.”

“Don’t be silly. How is corona going to declare your cause of death?”

A momentary silence fell over the restaurant, and four pairs of disbelieving eyes turned toward him.

Yeongyi’s voice cut into the silence. “Um… alright. My name’s Yeongyi. I know your names, so we can skip the introductions.”

Gotak huffed out a “rude” and Baku’s smile faltered just a bit, but he conceded with a quick nod. He pulled over two chairs, and the two took a seat as Yeongyi began her briefing.

“So! I’ve brought the chapstick, and—”

Baku held up a hand. “Pause. Chapstick?” He swiveled his head to look at Sieun. “Hey, Ice Princess. What did you get us involved in?”

Gotak regarded him with suspicion as well. “Yeah. You were annoyingly vague about this. I figured you were just being quiet as usual, but you’re plotting something, aren’t you?”

Suho wanted to do nothing more than start cackling. Of course Sieun hadn’t told them about what they were doing. He didn’t know why he expected anything else.

Sieun simply shrugged. “I thought it would be more efficient to explain once everyone was here.”

That… was not a denial.

“Okay,” Yeongyi began, straightening up like she was about to present a group project, “so the chapstick challenge is simple—”

“The what challenge?” Gotak interrupted.

Yeongyi plowed ahead. “—you and your partner take turns trying mystery-flavored lip balm. You guess the flavor after smelling, licking, or, if you’re brave, kissing it off their lips.” She paused. “Or however else you want, I guess, but it would be kind of hard to figure it out without doing those things.”

Silence.

Absolute, ringing silence.

Then Baku blinked. “Wait. Back up. Licking?”

“And kissing?!” Gotak choked out.

Juntae looked positively thrilled. “No wait, guys! It’s very scientific, and Sieun told me about Yeongyi’s plans to revive the trend to be super famous. You guys should be honored to participate.”

Suho was trying very hard not to look at Sieun. If it was so full of honor, maybe Sieun should’ve just done it with him when Yeongyi proposed it.

“You said this was just a team-building exercise! To help with our basketball skills!” Gotak finally barked, whipping his head toward Sieun.

“It is,” Sieun said plainly.

“You want us to team-build by mouth-to-mouth taste testing each other?!”

Sieun blinked. “It’s optional.”

“Since when?!”

“You’re here.”

“That is NOT consent.”

At this point, Juntae had practically dissolved into a puddle of giggles. Yeongyi… Suho couldn’t tell what Yeongyi was thinking. Either she regretted this or thought it was the best opportunity of her life. Suho was trying his best not to be endeared by Sieun being a little shit and manipulating their friends into kissing for views, but. You know. He was a man gone.

Gotak was flushed, so red that steam was practically coming out of his ears. His face was screwed up in a mix of angry confusion, and he was almost tripping over his words.

Baku hadn’t moved an inch. Suho thought the thought of licking Go Hyeontak’s lips finally made his brain tumble out of his head.

This was going to be more fun than he expected.

Chapter Text

Gotak was two seconds away from just getting up and fucking leaving. That was what he should have done. He had no idea why the hell his legs weren’t moving from their spot on the booth’s cushioned seat. Their spot, where his legs were currently glued to Baku’s leg. Oh god.

He never had a problem with skinship with Baku. It came to them as naturally as breathing, Baku’s arm over his shoulder, Gotak smacking him upside the head, the two of them tangled up just like they were now. It was all he had ever known since the day they met. The others even made comments sometimes, though Gotak didn’t think they had any room to talk. That asshole, Suho, especially.

Gotak wondered if he had seen the way he acted with Sieun, the way he practically threw himself onto the smaller boy. At first, Gotak thought that Sieun would be just as resistant as the day outside the teacher’s office. Surprisingly, even though the boy would never be obvious about it, he welcomed it. He brushed crumbs off of Suho’s face as he ate and excitedly talked about something, leaned into his touches, never looked away. You had to look a little closely, but anyone with half a brain could tell that they had something special.

Well. It seemed reasonable, considering what he knew about their history.

But them stupidly pining for each other did not mean they got to meddle in Gotak’s personal affairs! He knew exactly what those two were up to.

Skinship had never been an issue, not until recently. And look, Go Hyeontak was not dense. He wasn’t the type to be oblivious to his own feelings. He knew exactly why it had started bothering him.

It was because of his growing attraction to his best friend.

Maybe growing was the wrong word. Maybe those feelings had always been there, tucked away in some back corner of his brain, surfacing whenever he peeled shrimp tails for Baku without thinking, or yanked his ear when he needed a reality check.

But the moment Gotak realized that they were there? He was fucked from the start.

Now he was scrambling to keep his thoughts straight anytime Baku leaned too close, touched him too casually, smiled in that way that made his chest ache. He tried his damndest to act normal because he was just your best friend, your Baku, the boy he had known forever.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

He would never be Gotak’s, not in the way he wanted. And Gotak would never be able to let him go—because he didn’t want forever to end.

So here he was. Two seconds away from leaving. And honestly, if he had to see Suho’s smug face any longer, he would leave a nice little bruise on the side of his face as a parting gift. Not possible, because he knew Sieun might actually stab him with a chopstick then, and Baku’s leg was still glued to his and maybe stupidity was contagious because all of his common sense had left the building.

His ears were practically steaming from how hard he was blushing, and every sound was muffled. Suddenly, however, he heard Yeongyi’s delighted voice breaking through the fog. “Okay, so if all that was sorted, I’ll bring out the blindfold and—”

Gotak flinched when Baku’s voice cracked. “Blindfold?!” It was surprise, but it was laced with something vulnerable beneath the sharp edge.

His chest tightened. He hadn’t stopped to think about how this game might feel to Baku. Kissing with a blindfold on wasn’t just some silly dare. It was crossing a line between friends, a line Gotak wasn’t sure Baku was ready to cross. Or maybe not ready to cross with him.

The sinking feeling settled in his stomach. If Baku’s voice wavered like that, maybe all those quiet moments between them—the casual touches, the easy smiles—were just that: moments. Fleeting, meaningless to Baku in the way Gotak wished they weren’t.

Because that possible truth was unbearable. No matter how much Gotak ached to be more, Baku might never see him that way.

“It caters to mass appeal. It’s for the views, c’mon,” Yeongyi said, grinning like this wasn’t the most emotionally compromising situation of Gotak’s life.

Gotak barely registered the words before repeating them back in disbelief. “Views?”

Suho sighed like he was explaining something to a particularly slow child. “Gotak, keep up. It’s a trend. Why would people participate in trends? To post it.”

“Okay, so you’re exploiting us.”

“Sure,” Sieun said flatly. “We’re exploiting you. Are you doing it or not?”

Juntae began to giggle, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Gotak narrowed his eyes. He was about to ask what the hell was so funny when—

Baku cleared his throat.

That sound alone pulled Gotak back into the booth like gravity. It was subtle, but he knew that tone. Knew that awkward, forced little laugh Baku let out next. The one where he was trying to seem chill, like everything was fine, like his leg wasn’t still pressed against Gotak’s and his whole body wasn’t ten degrees warmer than usual.

And then, like he wanted to seal Gotak’s fate right there and then, Baku leaned back and stretched his arm along the booth.

Gotak turned his head so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Okay. Be normal. “I guess you’re the kind of idiot who would agree to kiss his friends for fun.”

“I mean,” Baku said, his unsure face rearranging into something firmer, “only if they’re hot, right?”

There was a pause. Just one second of airless silence before the room combusted.

Yeongyi raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. “Is Gotak hot?”

Juntae audibly choked between giggles.

Gotak couldn’t breathe.

Baku didn’t flinch. “He’s got his moments.”

Gotak felt like his soul had left his body entirely. The ceiling could’ve collapsed at that very moment and he wouldn’t have noticed. What the hell did that mean?

What moments? Did he mean it? Was he joking?

He couldn’t bring himself to ask. The words curled up in his throat and died there. Instead, he stared down at the table, willing the world to stop spinning.

If Gotak crossed that line tonight, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to come back.

And yet.

When Yeongyi held the blindfold out and Baku looked at him with that same unreadable expression—the one that might’ve been nerves or something softer underneath—Gotak took it.

He tied it over his eyes and waited.

Chapter Text

To be fully honest, Sieun had, in a sense, expected this.

He thought that they wouldn’t do it at all, even if everyone could see that bond between Baku and Gotak, the one that was strong enough to be more than friends, but didn’t yet have the reinforcement of being lovers.

A bond like that, no matter how strong, would shatter into a thousand pieces if it wasn’t ready to bear the weight of something more. Not because it lacked anything, but because there was so much for them to lose. The closeness they had developed over the years, carrying itself into every inside joke, every instinctive shoulder bump, every moment where they had chosen each other without thinking. To cross that line was to risk unraveling it.

So when Gotak reached across the table, blinking rapidly in an effort to keep his face carefully blank, Sieun didn’t flinch.

He had seen the tremble in his fingers before he tied the blindfold. Had watched his throat bob, like he was on the edge of saying something—don’t make me do this, maybe, or I can’t—then said nothing at all.

He saw Baku grab the chapstick Yeongyi offered, some red shade that probably tasted like chemicals and sweetness. He saw the way his hands hesitated to uncap the lid, how he pulled it free, paused, then held it near his lips. For all his boldness earlier, he sure seemed to have a hard time pretending now that his Gogo didn’t have eyes on him anymore.

Baku’s eyes flicked up at Hyeontak, who was now sitting up unnaturally still, blindfold hiding away anything his eyes might betray.

So when the container clicked shut and Gotak’s breath hitched, Sieun wasn’t exactly surprised when he saw the flimsy fabric hurled at a sputtering Suho’s face and Gotak slamming the restroom doors shut behind him.

His eyes turned to Baku, who had an arm still up in the air and an unreadable expression covering his face, then towards Suho, silently conveying his message. The other simply tipped his chin and moved to follow.

Yeongyi and Juntae looked at each other before loudly declaring that they needed to source more chicken and ran off into the kitchen. Sieun stared at their retreating backs, then turned his gaze towards two untouched plates, somehow spared from Baku’s monstrous appetite.

A few moments passed, interrupted only by the occasional clang coming from the kitchen. Baku sighed heavily, and Sieun knew he had to speak. “I’m not— I’m not the type of person to know what the right words to say are,” he started. “But I think I can understand how you’re feeling.”

Baku huffed dryly, interrupting, “‘Cause you’re also in love with your best friend?”

Sieun paused. He then considered the idea that he should probably be more concerned about the fact that he was transparent to the point that Baku figured it out, too.

But then he recalls all those months of watching Baku and Gotak understand each other without needing to speak a word, how their love came out in teasing jabs and boisterous laughter and lingering glances, and he realizes he understands. He understands them more than he thought he did.

He picked at his nails, remembering back to their conversation in the museum, when Baku confessed he’d wanted to kill those bastards for hurting Gotak. At the time he had wondered, just for a second, how much truth those words held.

Statistically speaking, with the amount of fights they must’ve encountered, there was no way Gotak wasn’t injured at least once beyond a scrape or a bruise. Which, in turn, also likely meant that Baku wouldn’t take that lightly.

Now, knowing what he knows about them, he’s positive that anyone who touched a hair on Go Hyeontak’s head experienced the barrage of boulders that were Park Humin’s fists.

He might’ve been able to control himself that last time, but even that was only for Gotak’s sake. Because they both knew that Baku’s threat of killing Na Baekjin and his cronies wouldn’t be simple words, regardless of any history.

He can connect the dots now. Wasn’t this him, just short of three years ago, for one Ahn Suho?

Uncaring about his future, unforgiving to his enemies. All for him.

It must show on his face, because Baku speaks up again. “Yeah. I’d do anything for him. I wouldn’t care if it hurts me or if he’s mad at me forever… as long as I can give him the world. I know you’re the same way.”

Sieun purses his lips, bobbing his head. “I am. But you know, you… you can’t get hurt. You want to give him the world?”

Baku’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the sadness in his eyes deeper than he’d seen in a while.

“Stay with him,” Sieun murmured, voice quiet, just barely cracking. “That’s all you need to do. You’re already his world. Don’t screw it up for him by being an idiot. And I know you don’t care much about yourself when it comes to Gotak, but… don’t screw things up for yourself either.”

Sieun thought back to the day Suho left all the time. He thought of every possible reality, one where he could’ve spoken up, one where he could’ve gone with him, one where he could’ve clung to him and never let him go. Every possible reality where Suho never went through that.

Baku tried for a smile. “Don’t get all mushy on me, Ice Princess.”

“I’m serious.” His smile dropped. “Alright.”

Sieun sighed, fixing his eyes on the yellowed linoleum floor. “I know I sound like a hypocrite. The only reason I made you do this was because Yeongyi wanted Suho and I to do it.”

An affronted gasp. “You—!”

“But,” there’s no way Sieun is going to let him finish that sentence. “If you can take this step forward, maybe… maybe I can, too.”

Even if he hadn’t gotten the chance to experience one of those realities, at least his had a Suho who came back to him.

He looked up after he said it, wondering if the shine in Baku’s eyes was an overflow of emotion or the reflection of the cheap tubelights.

“I know you can. I knew it the moment you called his name after the rooftop, and even after the truck. I thought you were just a crazy bastard,” he chuckles. “And then I realized I’m equally as insane about Gogo, so I don’t have much room to judge.”

“Why do you think I stayed to talk to you and sent Suho to deal with him?”

At that, Baku erupted into giggles. “Fair enough, but I just figured you were trying to avoid getting things thrown at you. Wait, you sent Suho? When did you even talk to him?”

“I have my ways.”

+

Upon entering the dingy restaurant washroom, Suho was greeted with a plastic cactus to the head.

Over the course of the past few months, Suho had worked hard to regain his strength. His reflexes were still a bit rusty, though. His hands flew up a beat too late, and he was rewarded with a blossoming redness across his forehead.

The restroom was stuffy, cheap fluorescent lights flickering and clashing with the bright blue walls, only serving to worsen the ache in his head. Be it Sieun, or Baku and Gotak’s weird tension, or Gotak’s flying ball of spikes, he really hadn’t been able to catch a break recently.

He glared up at Gotak, who was currently leaning against one of the cracked mirrors, arms crossed. Dickface. Trying to look cool, even now. “Seriously? A cactus? I think I preferred you throwing that blindfold…”

“Get out.”

“No.”

Gotak threw his arms up in the air. “Ugh, fuck you!”

“Save that for Baku.”

An unimpressed look was thrown in his direction at lightning speed. “Okay, okay! Not right now, I got it, sorry.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Suho crossed the room to join Gotak, opting to place his hands on the sink in front of him. Neither of them wanted to be the first to speak.

Suho felt eyes on him before he registered the small shove to his shoulder. He turned, retort ready, before Gotak spoke up.

“What do you want, Suho?” he said, scowling. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Suho’s tone softened, just a bit. “I’m here to talk, to check on you. To tell you you’re being stupid, if necessary.” Can’t be too nice. He rubbed his forehead, the new bump throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

Gotak turned away, facing the mirror, but Suho could tell he wasn’t looking at his reflection. “You should’ve just stayed out there with the others.”

Suho snorted. “And what? Leave you to drown in your misery because you can’t handle the feelings you have for your best friend?”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re one to talk.”

“Hah. I’m not as subtle as I thought I was, huh?” Suho smiled at the tiny nod Gotak gave, glad to see some reception to his words. He continued, a touch too honest. “In that case, neither are you. And I guess, yeah, I am one to talk. So listen.”

There was silence again, but this time, it felt more expectant than hostile. Suho studied Gotak’s posture— the stiff shoulders, the clenched fists hanging loosely by his sides, the way his eyes didn’t quite focus on anything. He was spiraling.

Suho took a breath. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he also couldn’t let Gotak stew in a storm of his own making.

“You know what the worst part of being in love with someone is?” he asked, voice low. “It’s not the fear of them not loving you back, not really. It’s the idea that maybe they do, and you’ll fuck it up anyways.”

Gotak didn’t answer. But he didn’t leave or start ripping the sink out of the wall, so it was a start. Maybe the jerk could listen.

“I know I make a lot of jokes about Baku, but we both know he’s not that much of an idiot. You think he doesn’t already know how he feels about you? Gotak, I haven’t even been with you guys since before all the Union stuff happened, and even I know he would damn near murder someone for attempting to breathe wrong in your direction. And I think you know that.”

The other let out a shaky breath, jaw tightening. “What does it matter if I know? It’s like you said, it might all go to shit anyways. What we have right now is easy. What would I do if we both wanted, and we both tried and tried, and it never worked? I wouldn’t be able to go back to being friends, and I can’t lose him either.”

“Well, yeah,” Suho replied easily. “You’ve got a thousand reasons not to do anything. What if this, what if that, bleh bleh bleh, blah blah blah.”

He turned to face him now, leaning slightly into Gotak’s space.

Suho thought back to a few nights ago, him and Sieun lying in bed, tangled up in each other's space. Remembered the conversation they had as Sieun tucked his head under the other’s chin and Suho played with the strands of his hair.

He was all too aware that the cuddling was really pushing being platonic. But after all that happened, he doesn't think either of them wanted to separate. In public, it was fleeting and light, but nights like these, when Suho came back from work (he practically lived in Sieun's house at this point) and Sieun trudged home from school, they dropped all pretenses. They did whatever they wanted.

“A while into my school year at Eunjang. When you were still…” Sieun started, breaking the short silence they had maintained since the lights turned off. He looked up, eyes a bit wet and sad looking as always, but Suho only thought they sparkled beautifully in the moonlight. Suho petted him lightly, comforting. “I told you about Hyoman.”

Ugh. Choi Hyoman. Suho had only really seen that buffoon from a distance at that point, but he’d heard enough. He didn’t care that he helped in the last stand against the Union, even a donkey with a moral compass would do that. He would’ve been at the wrong end of Suho’s fists, but Sieun told him to not put himself in those kinds of situations anymore.

Suho grunted, so Sieun continued. “When Hyeontak entered and helped me… I don’t know, he reminded me of you. Cocky, arrogant, rude. Reckless and constantly in fights.” Okay, well that’s not really what Suho was expecting to hear. “But you both wanted to help me. Then later it was more.”

For a moment, Suho was concerned. If this is what Sieun saw, then shouldn’t he consider Gotak a rival? Did he like him more than Suho?

Then Sieun shifted onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, contemplating. “You’re both loyal. You both do your best for the ones you love. You’re almost too forgiving at times. I really… hated him for that.”

That’s what really caught Suho off guard, so he reached up, tracing his fingers down Sieun’s jaw to his chin, and turning his head back so they could face each other again. “Why?”

“Well,” Sieun blinked. He looked like a cat. Suho had to restrain every instinct screaming at him to squeeze him into a ball and eat him. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s okay.”

“I guess… back then, I kind of hated him,” Sieun said slowly, almost like he was thinking aloud. “Not because of anything he did. It was just… he reminded me so much of you. All those similarities.” He paused, eyes flicking toward Suho’s chest, not quite meeting his gaze. “And I didn’t want someone like you. I wanted you.”

Suho stayed quiet, letting him keep going, ignoring his heart thudding behind his ribcage. He really hoped Sieun couldn’t hear it.

“I know that’s not fair,” Sieun added, voice thinner. “He’s not you. He never was. And once I stopped trying to make him be… I realized he’s—” He frowned, like the words were hard to find. “Gotak feels too much. He’s loud, and he’s loyal, just like you. But I regretted seeing him as a stand-in. He didn’t deserve that. In the end, I still wanted you back. But that time, I just wished you could meet him, too. Maybe you would see something, I don’t know.”

If Sieun really thought that, well then. Suho would have to try to tell Gotak what he wished someone had told him.

He kept his voice firm. “But have you thought about what it would mean to not say anything? To just keep pretending? That fear you’re feeling now—it… that kind of thing doesn’t go away. It just turns into distance. We all saw how you ran.”

Suho stared at his hands, contemplating his next words. “That distance won’t restrict itself with physicality. You might not want anything other than being close to him. But in the effort to protect him from your feelings, from you… you’re still risking the chance of losing him anyways. At the very least, you can try to take the leap together.”

Gotak’s fingers curled against the sink.

Suho watched him for a moment before softening. “Hey,” he said. “I’m not trying to guilt trip you or anything. I just… I know. Wanting someone to the point where you don’t know what to do with yourself. Making decisions for the other without even trying to be honest. It wrecks you.”

Gotak finally spoke again. His voice was quieter now, less combative. “If I tell him, it changes everything?”

Suho shrugged. “I mean, duh. That’s kind of the point.”

Gotak turned slightly, shoulders still tense, but something in him had shifted. A crack in the mirror. His guard wasn’t down, not completely—but it wasn’t impenetrable anymore.

“Y’know, he’s waiting for you,” Suho added. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

For a long beat, Gotak didn’t say anything.

Then, with a resigned groan and kick to the wall, he muttered, “I don’t know what’s worse, you turning into some bastardized version of a motivational speaker, or Sieun staring at me all the time like the answer’s obvious.”

“Well, my Sieun-ie,” Suho started, choosing to ignore the Ew! Gotak let out. “Is always right.”

“Unfortunately.”

They stood in silence again, but it was easier this time. The stuffiness had receded enough to breathe. The garish blue felt calming and even the light had stopped flickering; it seemed Gotak’s kick knocked something into place.

After a moment, Gotak straightened up. He didn’t look that ready, but he looked like he was done hiding.

“I hate you,” he muttered.

Suho clapped him on the shoulder. “Love you too, asshat.”

And with that, they walked toward the door, Suho pausing only to toss that stupid plastic cactus in the trash on the way out.