Archive of Our Own

The humidity in the air is stifling, remnants of the summer sticking onto the back of Taesan’s neck.

Despite the leaves already fallen, the campus landscape being a warm palette of browns and orange and other warm tones, summer this year had felt even longer than usual – almost dragging on, leaving faint memories of sandy beaches, ice cream on the boardwalk, and the salty sea air lingering around him.

It was the start of the semester in Taesan’s third year. He’d already given up on the usual start of year events, retiring from the party scene midway through his first year (because he’s very much an indoors person, and having people throw up on your nice shoes is not a fun experience for anyone).

And, somehow, he finds himself curling into himself as a cool breeze overtakes the humid air, tightening his oversized zip hoodie around himself.

He didn’t expect to be doing this on a Saturday night, but sometimes things come in unexpected ways.

Like how Kim Leehan managed to wiggle himself into Taesan’s life, settling in nicely. If Taesan was a shelf, Leehan would be a little seashell, placed in the shelf that reaches eye level, but slightly to one side.

Basically, they’re not dating.

But they’re not just friends either.

They’re something in between, and Taesan’s pretty sure it’s called a situationship, but he kind of has an awful read on Leehan to know whether he leaves sparks of electricity on Leehan’s body like how Leehan does to him. Behind his sparkling eyes, there’s walls put up, somehow more than Taesan, and he wants to knock them down.

Anyways, parties aren’t really Taesan’s thing. He leaves it more for Leehan, who draws everyone’s attention to him without doing anything particularly special. It’s part of his charm, which Taesan has, unintentionally, fallen for too.

But, a few days ago over an impromptu study session squished in the back corner of a cafe on campus, Leehan had leaned over Taesan’s laptop screen. He was staring directly at Taesan’s face, and Taesan really is not used to this much attention from one person.

Taesan blinks up at him, attempting to keep his cool. “Yes?”

“I’m going to a party on Saturday.” Leehan tilts his head slightly to the side, and his hair falls slightly over his eyes. Taesan’s fingers twitch with the urge to brush it aside. “Wait. Are parties your thing?”

If Taesan was a little smarter, he could’ve guessed what this would imply. Unfortunately, Taesan is stupid in front of cute boys with sparkly eyes.

He scrunches his nose at the thought of them. “I’m a retired party goer. Sorry.”

Leehan pouts at him, before Taesan rolls his eyes and picks up Leehan’s drink — a simple iced tea — and jabs the straw at his mouth to make him stop. Leehan grabs the drink with both hands to continue drinking it, and Taesan puts his focus back into his half-completed assignment.

Amongst the chatter and the clinking of glasses and cutlery, Leehan pokes his shoulder to get his attention again. “Okay. Since you won’t attend with me, do you want to help me pick something to wear? I’m out of options.”

Taesan squints at Leehan, then looks at his light washed jeans and cream crewneck. “You want me to help? I’m, like, emo.”

Leehan puts his drink down to lean on his hand and move even closer to Taesan, blinking up at him like a half lunatic. Taesan actually has to move back because he’s kind of terrified. He doesn’t know exactly how friendly Leehan is right now — he’s never seen the guy try to flirt, anyway, so he assumes this is just platonic Leehan. Or something.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Leehan just says something to completely break whatever tension they had in that few seconds. “Don’t you think I’ll look hot in all black?”

The image of Leehan wearing Taesan’s clothes might actually send him into overdrive, and he’s not really wanting to start tweaking out in front of a bunch of people right now. “…Sure?”

Taesan honestly thought Leehan was joking.

He doesn’t know why, but maybe it’s because he’s definitely avoiding confronting his feelings about his friend slash situationship directly, and Leehan won’t talk about it, so they’re in some sort of predicament now.

But here they are, an hour before the party is about to start, and Leehan is frantically flipping through all the clothes in Taesan’s tiny dorm wardrobe. Despite what other people – Myung Jaehyun – say, his entire wardrobe isn’t entirely black.

Leehan is eerily quiet, even though he almost broke down Taesan’s door twenty minutes ago, and he’s evaluating one of Taesan’s denim jackets.

Like the cat he is, Taesan’s laying on his bed, keeping an eye on Leehan in case his kleptomaniac tendencies kick in and he starts stealing stuff from Taesan’s accessories drawer (which has, in fact, happened before, and Taesan still thinks Leehan has one of his necklaces).

“I need a haircut,” he says, just to fill the empty space between them.

He doesn’t like it when Leehan’s quiet. Taesan kind of needs prompting to start his random yap sessions, and Leehan is usually chatting his ear off, so the periods of silence between them makes Taesan actually feel weird.

In the sense that he’s too aware of… them. Together. He likes chatter to fill empty space, and to stop himself from thinking too hard about silly things in the world.

Leehan turns around to look at Taesan. Half of Taesan’s face is squished into one of the many pillows on his bed, and they stare at each other for a second before Leehan scoffs.

“Maybe you do,” he says, because he’s Leehan and never actually says things bluntly in the way Taesan does. Everything is always softened around the edges, because Leehan is kind and never even dares to think of anything else in a bad light. “It looks nice, though. Maybe it should be as long as mine.”

Taesan had a phase, once, where he wanted to rebel in his own little way in high school. Despite his mother’s absolute annoyance and nagging, he refused to cut his hair for months, growing it all the way down his neck.

Even he was annoyed at it — the back of his neck would always be sweaty and he always had to brush his bangs out to see, but out of stubbornness, he refused to cut his hair. It kind of resembled a wolf cut, which his friends would think was so cool, but it’s a bit ironic now that Leehan thinks he’s much more like a cat.

It wasn’t until his mother physically managed to drag him to the hair salon that he finally got a normal hair cut, and perhaps the relief of how light he felt afterwards made him realise that being stubborn so much wasn’t always the answer.

Taesan doesn’t care. He thinks he’s more of a cat too.

Also, he kind of does need a haircut. His bangs are at the length where they poke his eye a bit, and it annoys him.

Leehan seems to already move on from the conversation, rifling through Taesan’s closet like he hasn’t seen the majority of what’s inside before. After a bit, he pulls out one of Taesan’s most worn jackets — a simple black leather one, slightly oversized, usually thrown over jeans and a shirt to make Taesan look slightly more put together.

“I like this jacket,” Leehan murmurs to himself.

Taesan bites back a grin, chewing on the inside of his mouth as Leehan shrugs it on over his own ripped jeans and simple t-shirt.

He sits up on his bed, curling his legs under himself like a cat, eyes still locked on Leehan adjusting his appearance in the mirror. If Leehan notices Taesan, he doesn’t say anything, humming to himself as he gently fixes his hair framing his face.

There’s something that feels a little too comfortable right now. The silence which has overtaken them, which isn’t as suffocating as Taesan would expect, the warmth which settles deep in Taesan’s chest, and how Leehan’s humming a little tune to himself.

There’s a word that makes Taesan’s neck prickle. Domestic.

Leehan turns around to face him.

It kind of catches Taesan off guard, the steely look in his eyes, where it looks like he’s boring holes into Taesan. As if protecting himself, Taesan hugs his pillow to his chest.

Sometimes they don’t need words to communicate. The slight tilt of Taesan’s head to the right, a drawn out blink which erases any remnants of sleepiness he gets whenever he lies in his bed for too long, and a small quirk of an eyebrow.

Anything else?

Leehan smiles at him, one of his softer smiles which makes his dimples poke out and Taesan’s stomach churn. Taesan hugs the pillow closer to his chest. A shield from his own emotions.

“I like the way you wear sunglasses,” Leehan says slowly, dragging the words out between them. “Like a headband. It looks nice on you.”

He has a way of asking for things without asking directly.

Taesan knows, from being around Leehan for so much longer than he’d admit, that Leehan is very shy when asking for things directly. He beats around the bush a bit, hoping for the person to take the hint, because he feels like asking directly is too demanding of him.

Obviously, Taesan doesn’t care. He puts his pillow down and gets up, raking a hand through his hair.

A little huff escapes his lips, as if feigning annoyance, but both of them know that Taesan’s never annoyed at Leehan.

In a little plastic drawer sits all of Taesan’s sunglasses he’s amassed over the years. He pulls it out and motions for Leehan to choose a pair, and Leehan carefully picks through the pairs to pick his own. They’re just a normal-looking pair, Taesan assumes he got it from one of the many vintage stores around Seoul, and Leehan hands it to him.

“Alright.” He’s standing in front of Leehan, who’s looking at him expectantly, like those puppy videos where they’re about to get their food placed in front of them.

Taesan has to flick his head to the right to hopefully avoid letting Leehan see the warmth which overtakes his ears.

Embarrassing. “I don’t know why you asked me to do this,” he says with no bite. “It’s simple.”

It really is simple — Taesan just puts the glasses on normally, then pulls it upwards to push some of his hair back, then adjusts his hair in front of the mirror so it doesn’t look completely awful. He doesn’t know why Leehan asked him, but he won’t say no, obviously.

He does the same to Leehan, pushing the hair back.

It’s a bit funny doing it on someone else instead of himself, but Leehan is basically the same height as him, so Taesan has to stand a bit on his toes to make sure the sunglasses sit right on Leehan’s head.

Taesan’s hands are slightly shaking, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s only focused on picking out the front parts of Leehan’s hair, making sure they frame his face well, because, really, everyone should be able to see Leehan’s face in all of its glory. He also doesn’t know why it feels so natural to be this close to each other, what with Taesan touching Leehan’s hair and adjusting it, and Leehan letting Taesan do whatever to him.

His cheeks are warm now, as he can see each little mole on Leehan’s face — he’s that close.

Taesan’s off in his little world, almost reaching to turn Leehan’s head to the side to make sure he looks.. fine, for the party, but he gains way too much self awareness and has to stop from flinging himself across the room, realising what he almost did.

The air is stifling. Taesan clears his throat. “You’re good.”

Leehan opens his eyes to turn towards the tiny mirror behind one of the wardrobe doors, and his eyes are all crinkled up in happiness. “Thank you.”

Taesan wants to hide under his covers and scream. For what, he doesn’t even know. Maybe he should just crawl into a hole and pretend he doesn’t exist.

“You have to go now, Han-ah.” The nickname comes out naturally.

He tugs Leehan by his — Taesan’s — jacket sleeve, and gently coaxes him towards his door.

Leehan does a little giggle at him, reaching to give him two pats on the shoulder, before swinging his door open and going out, leaving the faint scent of his perfume behind. Taesan can only stand at his doorway, hand gripping one side of the doorframe, watching his silhouette disappear down the corridor.

Something twinges at him. It doesn’t feel good.

Later on, Taesan opens his phone.

Not to Leehan’s messages — but to Riwoo’s, who had called him while he was in the middle of making a song on his laptop, hunched over his desk and chewing on the straw of a long-finished drink.

There’s a beat of silence when Taesan answers the call. He can hear the party in the background, faint sounds of a booming beat, people chatting and yelling, and what sounds to be Riwoo shuffling around, trying to find somewhere quiet enough so that they can hear each other.

“Sorry.” Riwoo sounds slightly out of breath. Taesan hears a door click shut. “Look, you need to come here.”

Taesan scowls. Riwoo can’t see it, but he definitely knows. “Why?”

“Because managing one drunk person is hard enough, but two is even worse. It’s not like you’re doing anything, I assume.”

Ouch. “Fine. Send me the address. I’ll pick up Leehan.”

There’s a soft laugh on the other side of the line, something which does not match the urgency which was in Riwoo’s voice mere seconds ago. Taesan can imagine his fangs as he laughs, and shudders.

Riwoo mutters something under his breath which Taesan can hear, clear as day, but happily chooses to ignore.

Of course you would.

“I’ll send it to you now~” Riwoo opens the door again, and the sound comes back in full force, so loud that even Taesan has to hold the phone away from his ear. “Thank you in advance.”

Riwoo ends the call, and Taesan groans as he gets up from his chair.

And now here he is, mentally bracing himself as the pounding music creeping closer to him does absolutely nothing for the looming dread Taesan feels in every step. His genuine dislike for parties is apparent, but there is no way in hell he is going to leave Leehan to get home by himself – not when he's drunk, and way too trusting and optimistic in general.

It’s funny. Taesan is a born pessimist, whereas Leehan looks at everything with his wide, sparkly eyes.

He has no idea what kind of party this is, but Taesan has to step over two passed out people in the front lawn, and dodge a few more people. Someone’s throwing up next to him in the bushes, and he refrains from rolling his eyes at the whole scene, and how lame it all is.

Yet, the lingering smell of alcohol and god-knows-what chokes him, makes his eyes water, and he covers his nose with his hand before going up to the front door. The house is basically shaking with how loud the music is.

It’s not as crowded as Taesan thought.

It seems like a lot of the party goers have dispersed across the rooms, or have left, so he has some space to weave between the heaps of people in the cramped hallway – one person on his mind. It’s dark, almost dingy in this house, and he’s glad he kept his shoes on because the floor is oddly sticky – there’s a quiet squeak squeak he can faintly hear over the booming bass of the music in the other room.

Why Leehan and Riwoo and all of his friends enjoy these types of parties, Taesan will never understand, as he tries to dodge stray people with shot glasses, people smoking something which fogs the corners of his peripheral with thick, gray smoke, and random couples flirting with each other.

(He doesn’t want to think about them, or Leehan, because something twinges in his stomach which makes him feel more sick than anything else in this house).

He sticks his head in a few open doors, hoping not to see something unsavoury, but there’s no sign of Leehan.

Riwoo hasn’t replied to his messages asking where they specifically are, so Taesan decides to head upstairs. He follows the little light he can see to where the stairs are, and as he starts ascending the stairs, he feels someone curl their hand over his arm with a grip so tight it almost hurts.

For a second he thinks it’s Leehan, or at least someone he knows, but he turns around to be met with someone he vaguely recognises at most. Maybe from one of his classes, or around campus, but no one he can actually put a name on.

He’s so tense he almost flings her down the stairs, but she forces a shot glass with something foul looking in it – it’s dark brown, and Taesan can smell the burning liquor inside without even holding it up to his nose – and shoots a smile which looks downright menacing to him.

“Taesan, right?” She asks, voice barely heard above quite literally everything happening around him. “Have a shot with me.”

Taesan so desperately wants to decline, to shake his head and run off, but she’s staring directly into his eyes and he feels his heart sink. He doesn’t drink. Not at these types of functions, anyway.

“Sorry.” Taesan tries not to wrinkle his nose at her, or the shot glass, or at the whole environment around him. God, he wants to leave so bad. “I don’t- I don’t feel like drinking.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t you know what I’m implying here?”

He does, he’s not stupid. He just does not want to entertain her.

The words ‘I’m interested in someone else’ die on his tongue as Taesan feels the weight of someone leaning their head on his shoulder. Underneath a mixed smell of soju, whatever people were smoking, and a general party funk was Leehan’s perfume, which tickled the tip of his nose.

He’s finally grateful Leehan is here to save him from the girl, and finally lets out the exhale he’s been holding ever since he stepped foot in the house. Taesan doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see Leehan in his life.

Leehan links his arm in Taesan’s one, and Taesan’s heart picks up speed immediately. Fuck. He’s seriously pathetic.

The girl manages to take a hint, which Taesan is somewhat grateful for, if not for the massive weight on his shoulder. She raises an eyebrow at them, takes a swig from the shot glass in her hands, and then stalks off, leaving them two on the stairs.

“Did I interrupt?”

From here, looking down at Leehan just like in Taesan’s tiny dorm room, he can see everything. The flush on his cheeks and neck (one shot in Leehan basically means he turns red immediately), the glossed over eyes which still sparkle in the dingy darkness of the stairway they’re on, staring up at him.

There’s soju on his breath, which tickles Taesan’s neck and makes him shudder.

Leehan’s pouting a little bit now, wrapping his arm even more around Taesan’s, and they’re still stuck on the goddamn stairs. Taesan pries his eyes off of Leehan’s lips, which are also way too close to his neck, and tries to shake Leehan’s head off his shoulder. There’s a slight franticness in the way he feels that it’s way too dangerous for them to be this close – they’re not.. they’re not a thing, so they shouldn’t act like one.

It’s times like these where Taesan wonders if being drunk would make everything so much easier. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life. He can feel himself ache with want, squeezing his frail heart, again and again. And yet, he continues to go back.

He has to deflect. From himself.

“How much did you drink, Kim Donghyun?” Taesan pokes Leehan’s shoulder with his other hand. There’s a slight falter in his voice that he hopes Leehan can’t pick out.

Leehan doesn’t answer, he just buries his head into Taesan’s shoulder and starts mumbling something incoherent. Taesan can feel Leehan’s hair tickle his nose and cheek, and he feels his neck grow warm at the realisation. The soju in Leehan’s body makes him so warm that he’s like Taesan’s own personal heater.

Everything is so warm.

They manage to stumble down the few steps and out of the house, Leehan and Taesan’s arms linked together the whole time.

Once they step out the front door, Taesan finally inhales air that isn’t tainted by something musty or thick. He chokes out what’s left in his lungs, remnants of that horrid party he was barely part of, meanwhile Leehan is swaying ever so slightly from where he’s trying to stand still. It would be cute if Leehan wasn’t basically drunk, and of course, Taesan is.. concerned.

He wants to shake Leehan by the shoulders, question him on why he’s drunk himself to the point where he can barely stand still and needs Taesan to take him back, but he holds back. All he can do is half drag Leehan back.

The humidity is much less now. The chill in the air has gotten even more cold, streaming through them and chilling them to the bone.

“Taesanie,” Leehan mumbles. His eyes are closed.

Fuck, why do these nicknames slip out so easily between them?

It’s full of too much.. warmth. It aches Taesan a bit, but he also craves this sort of blatant affection from Leehan so much it makes him dizzy. The thought of Leehan liking anyone else besides him makes him sick.

They’re still outside the house, standing next to even more passed out people. “I drank way too much.”

Taesan snorts. “I know. It’s okay.”

“I…” Leehan falters off, but he grabs onto Taesan’s arm with his other hand to stabilise himself. So similar to the girl from before, but he’s so gentle with Taesan.

Everything about Leehan is soft around the edges, and Taesan is extremely rigid. “I’m too dizzy to go back to my dorm. Can I.. stay..”

His voice trails off quietly, as if he’s embarrassed. Taesan brushes a strand of hair behind Leehan’s ear, his actions moving before he can even think. It’s fine. Whatever. Leehan’s drunk, he won’t remember this stuff by tomorrow morning. “That’s why I’m here.”

God. He sounds so corny. Taesan should just die.

“Thank you.”

Leehan lets go of Taesan’s arms to fall into them, and it’s almost awkward if it wasn’t something that Taesan finds himself imagining way too much. The alcohol in Leehan’s body makes him heavy, and naturally, Taesan wraps his arms around Leehan as he puts his chin on Taesan’s shoulder.

The tip of his nose is starting to ache from the cold outside, but the person holding onto Taesan is warmer than any heater he knows. Taesan’s heart is like a jackhammer.

He tries to pry Leehan off of him after a few seconds, because if Leehan feels his heart, he’s going to know too much.

But, of course, he’s not that lucky. Leehan, who’s too kind for the world, immediately perks up, places his hand directly on Taesan’s heart.

Fuck.

Leehan is unfiltered even when sober, but when he’s drunk, he’s too..open. He doesn’t think before doing anything, and it’s the same now, with Leehan staring at his hand placed on Taesan’s chest.

Taesan has half the mind to slap Leehan’s hand, for the single second he’s doing this, and he almost–almost gets mad at him. How easily Leehan can read him, despite how much he tries to hide it, and how Taesan can never know what Leehan’s thinking. He hates this feeling of vulnerability, and yes, it’s not something he can help, but something hot flashes through him either way. Fear.

He slides his arm into Leehan’s, who’s gaping at him. “Let’s go.”

“Your..” Leehan points at him, with his massively innocent eyes, and Taesan tries not to scream. He glares at Leehan instead, despite feeling awful at the mere thought of upsetting Leehan – it’s a defense mechanism built into him. Leehan shakes his head, his hair moving too. “Nevermind.”

They walk back in silence.

Leehan’s trying to step on every leaf on the concrete sidewalk. With every leaf, he unintentionally drags Taesan towards the direction he’s trying to go in, and even though Taesan is trying to ignore what just happened between them, he can’t help the fond smile which always appears whenever he’s around Leehan. Their only source of light at this time of night is the streetlamps.

Taesan can barely see Leehan’s face now, which might be a good thing. His jacket and sunglasses are still intact, and of course Leehan looks good in them – he looks good in everything, and Taesan will always think Leehan is the most handsome person he’s ever seen in his life.

Like his personality, Leehan’s face is sharp but still round.

His eyes might be Taesan’s favourite feature, because they’re so round and large, but hold the most emotion. Maybe the countless times he’s spent holding Taesan in eye contact during their conversations means that every little curve, eyelash, sparkle is transfixed in Taesan’s brain, to the point where he might be able to draw it from memory. And he can’t even draw.

And of course, while Taesan may be in a constant inner turmoil with himself, he can never be mad at Leehan. Leehan deserves so much love. He’s the sun, and everyone he interacts with gets a little piece of yellow warmth from him.

But Taesan is greedy. He wants the whole sun to himself.

Leehan has somehow managed to sober up slightly by the time they make it back to Taesan’s dorm building. His walking pattern is a bit less random and more precise, but their arms are still linked together, because Taesan needs to make sure Leehan is stable and doesn’t tumble down in the bushes next to him or anything.

“I’m cold,” Leehan whines to Taesan, who laughs. In the shitty light, he can faintly see the slight pink flush across Leehan’s cheeks.

“We’re here now, Han-ah.”

The second Taesan opens the door to his dorm room and flicks on the light, Leehan actually manages to fling himself onto Taesan’s bed, and buries himself deep in the black sheets. Taesan covers his face from the massive smile which overtakes him, because Leehan is so damn cute that he forgets that he’s basically in love with him sometimes.

That revelation is so striking that it makes him freeze for a second, but it just makes sense.

Love.

Of course he loves Leehan. Anyone who comes across Leehan is bound to love him a little, because he’s relentlessly kind and sweet, even to people who wouldn’t even give him the time of day.

He deserves all the love in the world, but Taesan only wants him to be the one to give Leehan it. It’s all consuming, something which makes him feel like he’s going insane and that he seriously should get checked out, the feeling of like turning into love and now he’s just a guy yearning over one of his closest friends, wanting him so bad he’d probably move planets for Kim Leehan.

The earth is spinning, the sky is blue and grass is green, and Taesan is in love with Leehan.

He bites back a smile as he approaches the Leehan shaped lump on his bed, blankets wrapped so tightly around him. “You need to get changed.”

Leehan manages to untangle himself from the mess of blankets and pillows on Taesan’s bed, freeing his arms. He stares at Taesan, who’s staring down at him, for exactly half a second, before reaching out and grabbing his arms, tugging him down to land on top of Leehan.

What the fuck?

Taesan can barely realise what’s actually happening – Leehan has a surprising amount of strength in him which seems to multiply when he’s intoxicated – and Taesan himself has poor balance, so he goes toppling down.

On top of Leehan.

This doesn’t seem very friendly. Or platonic. And Taesan lands on top of the blanket, on top of his friend with a small oof because all the air has, quite literally, been knocked out of him the second he landed.

Should he throw himself off Leehan? Should he stay where he is? Should he close the gap between them like what he’s been imagining for longer than he can admit?

Taesan’s brain moves too fast. Leehan knows.

“You worry too much~” Leehan laughs at him, and the crazy amount of emotions Taesan’s going through right now.

Somehow, Taesan manages to wrangle himself off of Leehan, deciding to lay next to him instead. They’re both staring upwards, on Taesan’s absolutely tiny bed which cannot fit the both of them, and the proximity and heat radiating off them — he can’t tell if it’s Leehan’s drunken warmth or the heat coursing through Taesan’s body — chokes him.

He tells himself it’s because Leehan is stubborn and won’t leave the nest he’s made in Taesan’s bed. So he’s going to keep Leehan company, like he’s always done, and always will.

“Han Dongmin.” Leehan’s speaking to the ceiling.

Taesan turns to look at him, reaching out to take the sunglasses off of his head. He doesn’t need to make any sound of recognition, because Leehan always knows he’s listening anyway.

He decides to rake his hand through Leehan’s hair, to calm himself down. Gently untangling the little knots and making sure it lies flat on his head, because Leehan gets sulky if his hair is messy.

“I have to tell you something,” Leehan says, finally.

Taesan’s voice barely comes out in a whisper, too focused on Leehan’s hair instead of his intoxicated shenanigans. “Yeah?”

Leehan scrunches his nose. “It’s a secret.”

Hm?

Taesan turns towards him instead, poking Leehan’s cheek in interest. It’s soft. Like poking a ball of dough. He smiles to himself. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

He doesn’t know what secrets Leehan keeps to himself. Leehan’s quite an open person, and Taesan likes to think that he knows Leehan quite well — in the sense that there are no secrets between them. But then again, his love for Leehan that consumes him whole with no mercy can be considered a secret, so maybe he should just be quiet and see what Leehan is trying to tell him.

Whatever happens next makes Taesan almost—almost topple over the side of his tiny bed and onto the ground, if Leehan didn’t catch his arm immediately.

The sheets rustle as Leehan moves to face Taesan. They are ridiculously close to each other.

Taesan wants to be this close to Leehan forever, his perfect face just encapsulated in his view. He’s insane. He should seriously get checked out. Or die. Whatever. Maybe he does need help, because it’s not normal for any human to want someone this bad, ever, and Taesan might be patient zero for how much his chest squeezes and how dizzy he feels to take in so much Leehan at once.

It feels so intoxicating. Maybe he’s drunk on Leehan.

Leehan bites his lip for a second, as if holding back from whatever he’s going to say. Taesan’s staring at his lips because he has absolutely no sense of self control when he’s this close, and he knows Leehan can see him, but Leehan won’t remember all this. He wants to be selfish, and greedy, and keep Leehan for himself to make sure no one else sees him the way he sees Leehan.

He’s quiet, so Taesan reaches forward to tuck a piece of Leehan’s hair behind his ear, so he can have a closer view of his face.

It’s so quiet Taesan can hear how Leehan’s breath hitches the second he makes contact with him. Taesan’s eyes widen, and Leehan lets out a small exhale.

“I like you, Taesan. Like, I want to kiss you so bad it makes my head dizzy…dizzier than right now..”

The last thing Taesan sees before shock overtakes him and he jerks backwards off his bed is the blush on Leehan’s cheeks, and how his eyes are squeezed shut, and how he’s clinging on to the blankets as if it’s his own shield. It’s.. a lot to take in.

And then his stomach drops, he goes backwards, and Leehan manages to grab him before he almost breaks his back or something. Taesan can’t breathe anyway, because What the fuck.

He doesn’t know how shallow he’s breathing, Leehan’s hand around his arm, until he can hear himself. Taesan doesn’t know why he’s acting like this.

It feels surreal. Leehan’s just smiling at him in his drunken stupor, holding the whole universe in his eyes. Taesan can barely breathe.

“Are you joking?” Taesan manages to choke out, reaching out to hold on to Leehan’s shoulder, as if making sure he’s something tangible and real.

He’s real. This better be real.

“Well.. no,” Leehan giggles. Giggles. Taesan’s chest hurts. He needs to explode and die. It’s too much.

He pinches Taesan’s ear, warm between his fingers. Taesan’s face must be entirely red as well. He feels as if he’s on fire, and maybe his blush has spread to his cheeks, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Whatever. He’s lost all his dignity tonight, and he’s not even the drunk one between the two.

“You want to kiss me?”

Leehan smiles and nods at him, that childish smile which makes Taesan’s stomach flip around crazily whenever he finds one directed at him. He’s like an excited puppy.

Fuck, Taesan can’t breathe.

Leehan’s arm is still around his, and Taesan can still see the remnants of alcohol still in Leehan’s system – his large glassy eyes, for one – but he knows, deep down, that Leehan is an awful liar. He can’t lie to save his life. And when he’s drinking, everything is magnified by a hundred for him. Leehan only tells the truth, and the truth is that he likes Taesan back.

A silence falls over them. Taesan wriggles closer to Leehan, to cup his warm face in his hands, so he can listen to Taesan without anything bothering the both of them.

Not that it’s likely that someone is going to burst into Taesan’s dorm room at this hour, but Taesan is a selfish, greedy person, and he wants all of Leehan’s attention on him either way.

“I can’t kiss you, you baby,” Taesan laughs. “I want to. But you’re too drunk.”

Leehan huffs at Taesan, before (gently) pulling Taesan’s hands off of his face to turn around and face the window outside. The action itself is so childish that Taesan busts out laughing at him, because that is the most Leehan thing he’s ever done – Leehan is someone who is stubborn and knows what he wants, and he has a hard time being told no.

Taesan tugs at his wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”

There’s something tingling in his body when he manages to wrangle Leehan out of his bed and help him get ready to sleep. Something new, and maybe the absolute weight of this stupid situationship he’s been stuck in finally, finally, leaving his shoulders.

Taesan doesn’t like not knowing things.

Obviously, not many people do, but to him it’s different. He doesn’t like being uncertain, and he likes things which are straightforward and honest. Like him. But obviously, that’s not how life works, and Taesan seriously finds himself in great distress over things he has no definite answer to, because it kind of ruins the flow of how he works as a person.

But now, he knows something. Which.. is good enough for him. There’s a light feeling coming from within, making him want to float and spin around and do all sorts of giddy things like giggle and poke Leehan’s cheeks, but he has to control himself because he has a reputation to uphold.

He hands Leehan some soft, warmer clothes from his wardrobe to sleep in, and throws his soju-smelling jacket in the laundry basket.

Leehan has a toothbrush in his bathroom because they do do sleepovers sometimes, and Taesan watches from behind Leehan to make sure he’s not intoxicated enough to wobble around while brushing his teeth.

In the dim light, at this time of night, Taesan feels all warm and fuzzy. Leehan’s eye catches him in the mirror, and Taesan has to look down for Leehan to avoid seeing his warm ears and flushed cheeks. He’s shy. Sue him.

The lamp on his nightstand is turned on and the main lights are turned off, leaving a warm cast over the entire dorm. They’ve been up so late the sun might rise soon.

Taesan closes his window blinds, because Leehan deserves a nice rest after the.. eventful night they’ve had together.

“I still want a kiss,” Leehan says, emerging from the bathroom. He smells all minty and fresh. “I just told you I like you.. and you like me back.. so it’s only fair, right?”

He’s pouting at Taesan. Like a baby.

“I think we should talk about this when we’re both sober..”

Taesan feels slightly guilty, but he knows Leehan’s still got some soju in his body. He’s a respectful person, so he’s willing to wait for Leehan to be completely sound before they do anything big like.. kissing each other.

Even the thought makes Taesan giddy. But he can wait. He’s used to it.

Leehan groans and dramatically throws himself onto Taesan’s bed again, and Taesan follows suit, because he’s pathetic and of course he will. Plus, it’s cold outside, and the heater is barely working in Taesan’s dorm room, and what if Leehan gets cold?

In all honesty, as much as Taesan has been thinking about how he wants Leehan so bad his stomach and head aches with longing, he’s kind of awkward in the physical affection department. He’s not a cuddler, but he knows Leehan is, and he kind of has to suck it up and tries not to think about how he’s never cuddled with someone like this before. Things like this are strangely intimate.

It doesn’t matter, because Leehan kind of wraps himself around Taesan anyway the second he slides under the blanket. It’s funny how affectionate Leehan already is to Taesan. Maybe the soju has made Leehan crazy. There’s barely space to leave between them, so Taesan accepts his fate, and pretends like he’s not burning hot under Leehan’s arm, snaking around his waist. He’s rubbing the hoodie Taesan has on between his fingers, Leehan’s own way of calming down and clearing his mind.

They’re close again. Leehan’s staring down at Taesan, his eyes all warm and loving, like they always are. Leehan grins. “I kind of want to keep you to myself, Taesan. I’m greedy.”

Taesan’s not the only one who’s insane, it seems. Somehow a crazy Leehan in his head is even more attractive. “You have me.”

Taesan is pathetic. He doesn’t care.

With a random surge of confidence he doesn’t know where it came from, Taesan grabs Leehan’s shoulder to lean in, barely missing his mouth as he gives a peck to the side of his lips instead. Leehan’s face is slightly damp because he just finished his (Taesan’s, actually) skincare routine, and he smells so soft and clean that Taesan wants to bite him in a very non freaky way. Thank god the soju smell weaned away.

He tries not to giggle at the extremely shocked reaction on Leehan’s face, eyes wide open, gaping at him like one of the fish in his tank. He's adorable. Taesan loves him, truly.

“Sleep, you baby.”

They’re still close, so he’s barely whispering it, but Leehan’s all shocked into silence. Taesan pokes his nose to try and get a reaction out of him.

Leehan’s natural reaction, apparently, is to bury his face in Taesan’s shoulder. Taesan goes back to combing Leehan’s hair out with his fingers, trying to lull both of them to sleep. He can feel Leehan press a kiss somewhere on his neck, below his ear, and he can only smile at how shy Leehan had suddenly gotten.

Taesan’s so sleepy now that he doesn’t feel his heart pound more at the sudden contact, but with how warm he is now, he can feel himself slowly being lulled into dreamland.

He feels calm now. Calmer. He’s still a bit giddy, a bit drunk on love and all sorts of happy emotions he’s not used to feeling so strongly, but he’s got a cute boy wrapped around him, so there’s really nothing else Taesan can even think of wanting more in the moment.

Taesan lets out a content sigh. He scratches the back of Leehan’s head gently, which makes Leehan hum.

They’ll discuss it in the morning, or afternoon, or whenever they’ll wake up. They have all the time in the world, anyway.