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The most time consuming part of studying at the campus library is finding a table to accommodate Keonho and his knucklehead friends. What makes it an even more daunting task is finding one that is big enough that their resident redwood tree, Martin, can spread out comfortably, since the guy is so partial to throwing his abnormally long limbs around.
What makes matters worse is it’s the point of the quarter when assignments and projects are their most bountiful. Nearly everyone is drowning, hence a completely full library study floor. They had made the mistake of trying to find a table at the STEM library in a different section of campus, only to realize that those freaks were not giving up their tables and planned to be there all day and all night. They had no choice but to make the trek to the humanities library where students were constantly coming and going.
The only reason they were even able to snag a table as soon as they arrived was because Martin’s giant ass asked a group of first years if they were done and about to head out when they had just barely started packing up their things. Understandably to Keonho, they got scared and picked up the pace of their packing and skidaddled away, whereas Martin was left in utter confusion.
“Bro, you’re literally slenderman,” Juhoon had reminded him drily, shaking his head.
Which brings them to this moment in which Keonho has been suffering through an interactive chemistry module that he really should have completed last week if he had been more responsible.
He really shouldn’t have put off this general education class, because now he’s taking a 200-level class in his second year, meanwhile Seonghyeon has already moved on to the 300 level class. Seonghyeon’s reasoning is that he hates chemistry (despite being good at it and doing well) and would rather get those out of the way so he can get to his engineering classes as soon as possible. Keonho should have lined his shit up so he could at least study alongside his best friend but he’d been lazy and registered late, so he was stuck taking his class later than he should’ve as a second year.
Keonho had long given up on his module and was instead tapping through Instagram stories mindlessly, barely paying attention. All the music and audio from the story posts were stuttering and stilted, and the sound of them became almost grating because of how quickly he was tapping through them. Despite this, he didn’t care because it was just something to do, something to keep him from doing what he was actually supposed to be doing. Next he was probably going to get desperate and log into Facebook and start looking through cringey family member posts and AI videos.
Keonho definitely isn’t alone in his avoidance of actual homework and studying. James looks to be online shopping, if his open Depop and Grailed tabs are any indication.
Martin is also decidedly not studying. Okay, maybe that’s not exactly true, because you never know what is actually homework when it comes to music production majors. A quick glance at his laptop screen tells Keonho that he is listening to some song on Soundcloud that one of his mutuals had posted recently. Martin is bobbing his head as he drums on his own stomach with a pen and pencil, leaning back precariously in his chair on the back two legs and staring unseeingly ahead as he does.
“Music majors when they have a shitty Soundcloud song due the next day,” Keonho snorts, shaking his head mockingly.
“Brother, you cannot be talking right now, you are literally a business major,” Martin scoffs, shaking his head.
“Yeah, he’s got a pie chart due tomorrow,” James jokes, and Seonghyeon snorts. Keonho can’t help but laugh at this.
“Are you not also a business major?” Juhoon asks, eyebrows raised.
“And what about it? Plus, I’m in grad school getting my MBA. I already have my bachelor’s,” James shoots back, raising his own brows back, trying to hold back a laugh.
“I think all of you should shut up, seeing as Seonghyeon and I are the only STEM majors here,” Juhoon shrugs, the corners of his mouth curled in amusement.
“Now, what do you mean by that?” Martin asks, setting his chair back onto all four legs, leaning forward over the table, arching one eyebrow. His eyebrow piercing glints in the harsh overhead lighting. It’s still slightly swollen, since he had just gotten the piercing last weekend.
“Bro is calling you guys dumbasses,” is Seonghyeon’s contribution, snickering.
“Bro,” Martin protests, his hand over his chest like he’s been shot and voice a bit louder than what is appropriate for the study floor. Since it’s Martin, this is expected of him by his friends, but someone at another table shushes them, sending a glare their way.
As per usual whenever something like this happens, Seonghyeon turns and gives them an apologetic, placating smile, mouthing “sorry” at them. This seems to satisfy them, and they turn back around.
“I didn’t say it, he did,” Juhoon says, shrugging and unconcerned.
The group goes silent for all of three minutes before Martin hisses, still fake-stung, “You’re foul for that and you know it.”
“Is it foul if it’s the truth?” Seonghyeon wonders out loud, grinning when Martin makes a noise of protest.
One thing about Martin, he’s easily ragebaited. They all love to get under his skin, love to tease him and mess with him. He rarely fights back, mostly because he finds it funny and knows they don’t actually mean any harm.
“Damn,” Keonho says glumly, pouting as he does.
Underneath the table, Seonghyeon wedges his foot between Keonho’s ankles, giving him his customary half-smile, like an apology.
Meanwhile: “You couldn’t even figure out how to get a spoon out of the dining hall utensil dispenser in first year,” Juhoon points out, snorting. Unfortunately, he’s not wrong and Keonho knew he’d never live that down.
“Yo, chill on me,” Keonho protests, and he sinks down in his seat and pouts even more dramatically as his knees knock into Seonghyeon’s. The boy is rolling his eyes at him, but he’s smiling as he knocks Keonho’s knees in return.
Keonho gets an iMessage notification on his laptop and phone, opting to respond on his laptop since he can type faster there.
SH: wyd
SH: uve been on ur phone for like 6hrs
KH: i have not tf
SH: u def aren’t studying either
KH: chill on me
SH: if i took a shot for every time uve said that in the past 4hrs alone i’d be dead
KH: CHILL
KH: ok i see ur point
KH: idk i gave up on my chem hw bc idk wtf is going on
SH: why didn’t u ask me or jh to help
KH: jh lit just called me a dumbass bruh
SH: u know he doesn’t mean it
KH: yeah well that doesn’t exactly make me wanna ask for help lmfao
SH: u could ask me /;
KH: u seemed busy idk /;
SH: idc just ask me im always down to help smh
KH: okkkkk well can u help me then hehe :P
SH: ur such a baby bruh
“Martin, switch seats with me,” Seonghyeon says suddenly, startling the other boy mid-stomach drum.
“Why would I do that?” Martin asks, squinting at him.
“Because I said so,” Seonghyeon says simply, and Martin looks incredulous, looking around at the rest of them as if making sure they had heard all this as well.
“The hell?” Martin splutters. “And you just called me a dumbass, why should I let you take my seat, huh?”
“I’m helping Keonho with his chem,” Seonghyeon says as an explanation, his tone flat.
“Oh, okay, you’re helping this dumbass,” Martin says, standing up and laughing when Keonho shoves him. He moves slow as hell as he gathers his shit, and everyone is watching him move at a glacial speed. This is one of Martin’s biggest problems, in Keonho’s opinion. The guy is huge and moves like a sloth, not a single drop of urgency.
Seonghyeon is standing there waiting with his customary look of disgust, laptop in one hand, ratty messenger bag and half-finished, watered-down latte in the other hand. He’s expressed irritation about Martin’s lack of urgency before, but Keonho attributes his complaints to eldest child syndrome. Seonghyeon is always doing things quickly, impatient when others don’t match his pace. Martin finally comes around the other side of the table to everyone’s relief.
Seonghyeon moves the newly vacated chair closer and plops into the seat, knocking into Keonho’s shoulder as he does. Keonho watches as he settles in and arranges his things, eyes caught on the sheen on the boy’s cupid's bow. He blinks when Seonghyeon looks directly at him and asks what it is he needs help with.
Keonho stammers something out about his chemistry module and Seonghyeon nods, his knee pressing firmly against Keonho’s as he leans over so he can look at Keonho’s laptop screen.
Keonho doesn’t know why he’s suddenly feeling so warm, but it doesn’t help that when he looks across the table, Juhoon is watching him from over his laptop, the top of his pen resting against his chin, barely able to hide his amusement in the way the corners of his mouth curl up.
It’d be exaggerating to call this thing a party. It’s more like a gathering of their large friend group to hang out and celebrate the end of the quarter and finally being able to relax for at least a weekend before it all starts over again.
Keonho and his friends aren’t really big partiers, with pretty much all of them being introverted. Too many people can be exhausting, so smaller group gatherings are always preferred. Just because they’re introverted doesn’t mean all of them are necessarily shy or anything, they’re just selective of who they’re comfortable around.
A large Wingstop order is on its way and they’ve already finished their bobas they had gotten earlier. There’s alcohol but no one has touched it quite yet since it’s still early in the evening. Some people are smoking out on the balcony, Martin amongst them.
Keonho is lying on the floor on a rug and scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t think he plans on drinking, but there is still plenty of time for him to change his mind. (He usually does.)
All he can think about is lemon pepper wings and Wingstop ranch. Mmmmm.
His mouth is watering as he scrolls through TikTok, and it seems like the app has read his mind because it’s feeding him Wingstop mukbang videos back to back and it really isn’t helping at all. He thinks he might be drooling.
He’s knocked sideways as Seonghyeon throws himself down onto the floor beside him. His eyes are a little glassy and instantly Keonho has been among the people who had been out on the balcony smoking.
One of their friends had brought a small baggie of pre-rolled joints and Keonho knows Seonghyeon can never resist even though he’s got his own pen.
“Sometimes flower is good too,” Seonghyeon had once said.
Seonghyeon always operates a little slower when he’s high, a little more giggly, and a little softer.
“You don’t want to smoke?” Seonghyeon asks, shimmying so he’s pressed right up against Keonho’s side.
“Nah, I get too paranoid. You know this,” Keonho replies, and Seonghyeon shrugs.
“I know, I just wanted to make sure because there’s only like two prerolls left,” he says, pulling out his own phone.
“That was fast,” Keonho says, but he’s not really surprised.
Seonghyeon just giggles and pulls up the camera on his phone and begins taking selfies. Keonho has every intention to go back on his own phone and continue scrolling, but he’s dragged into the selfie taking when Seonghyeon adjusts his position so he can put his face right next to Keonho’s, squishing their cheeks together. He feels as if his skin is heating up only where their skin is making contact, but the other boy doesn’t seem to notice.
“How many selfies do you need to take?” Keonho grumbles, but he’s not annoyed, the opposite actually, because he’s endeared by anything Seonghyeon does.
“Many,” is his response, and he changes positions again, this time laying with his head on Keonho’s stomach.
Keonho thinks it's fortunate that he’s lying there and not on his chest because then he’d be able to hear how fast his heart is beating. This is a new sensation for him, he thinks. Maybe he’s just never noticed before, but he’s suddenly so hyper-aware of how his body reacts to Seonghyeon and he’s not sure how to feel about it. It must be normal, right? Most people react this way when their best friend is around? Probably. Hopefully. Keonho doesn’t want to think about it too much.
Keonho’s sister says he’s an Aquarius through and through. Avoidant of his emotions and any feelings that aren’t easily explained, ‘detached as hell’ she says. Blah, blah, blah—he can’t be bothered to listen to nonsense about astrology. Seems like a hoax or pseudo-science anyways.
They lay like that for a little longer until the food arrives, and then it’s like war trying to get themselves food amongst their munchie-ridden friends.
The pair sits on the floor with their plates on the coffee table, because it’s too crowded in the kitchen where most everyone else is standing around the island and eating. Seonghyeon hands all the flats he had grabbed to Keonho, knowing those are his favorite. Keonho does the opposite, handing him all the drums because those are his favorite. They share a cup of ranch and a Dr. Pepper spiked with vodka.
Martin keeps topping off their cup and eventually it becomes more vodka than Dr. Pepper. It’s at this point that Seonghyeon stops drinking it, but Keonho is on a good one now. He keeps drinking and it starts to taste like nothing, which is Dangerous.
Keonho doesn’t have a drinking problem per se. He just thinks that when he gets to a certain point of buzzed or tipsy, you might as well take advantage of how much easier it is to drink when you’re already inebriated. It only makes sense. To him, at least.
When he’s done eating, Keonho heads to the bathroom to wash his hands and to take a piss, but once he’s done relieving himself, he stands there to wash his hands at the sink and ends up staring at himself for a little too long in the mirror. Eventually, he realizes what he’s doing and splashes some water on his face, drying his hands and face on a small towel on the counter. Should he have done that? Probably not, seeing as he doesn’t know what that small towel is used for but he’s most the way to being drunk and he can’t find it in himself to care.
He heads back to the living room and into the kitchen to pour himself another drink because everything is going down easily now. People have cleared out of the kitchen for the most part since they’re done eating, with not much food left. Most of the trash has been cleared away and by the trash can in a large bag for later disposal. One thing Keonho enjoys about their group of friends: they are a clean bunch. He never feels like he has to clean up after them like he has at actual parties they’ve been to. Even while he’s piss-drunk at other parties his friends could find him cleaning. But maybe he’s just a huge control and clean freak.
Juhoon is in the kitchen as he pours himself another drink, and while he seems to be buzzed as well, he isn’t on the same level as Keonho and has more control of his facilities, watching him with amusement. Keonho accidentally sloshes some lemonade out of his cup as he pours it to top off the large amount of vodka he had poured in.
“Drinking your feelings away?” Juhoon asks him, watching him grab a paper towel to wipe up the spill from over the rim of his own cup.
“What feelings?” Keonho asks, confused, wiping the lemonade up and disposing of the paper towel.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” Juhoon says, and in a way that suggests that it is definitely not nothing, but Keonho is too drunk to notice at this moment he’ll most definitely remember this moment later on.
“You’re a weird dude,” Keonho says, and Juhoon just snorts and walks away, presumably to join Martin and their other friends on the balcony.
Keonho ends up chugging what he had poured for himself right there and immediately feels dizzy. He decides right then that he’s done drinking for the night and grabs a water bottle from the fridge and tries to head to the living room without tripping or walking into the walls.
When he gets back into the living room, Seonghyeon is sitting on the couch and scrolling on his phone. Keonho joins him, but lays down with his head in Seonghyeon’s lap and throws an arm over his eyes, taking a deep, dramatic breath.
Seonghyeon just laughs, a little more sobered up now after his food has settled, and takes the water bottle from him and presses it against Keonho’s forehead. It feels so, so nice. He always knows what to do at all times, always knows how to make Keonho feel better.
“You good?” Seonghyeon asks, and Keonho can hear the smile in his voice.
“I think so? Kinda dizzy,” Keonho replies after a moment, furrowing his brows. There’s also the beginning pangs of a headache in his left temple. That’s definitely not good.
“Sit up and drink this water.” Seonghyeon must open the bottle for him because Keonho can hear the plastic crack of the cap seal breaking
“Don’t wanna.”
One thing about Keonho is he gets even more insufferable and whiny when he’s drunk, stubborn and unreasonable. Martin’s words, not his.
“I don’t care if you don’t wanna,” Seonghyeon snorts, and Keonho wrinkles his nose.
“Rahhhh,” is all Keonho says.
“Brother, if you don’t drink this right now, I’m going to waterboard you with it,” Seonghyeon says, the warning in his tone clear.
“The fuck,” Keonho protests.
“Yuuuup,” Seonghyeon drawls, unamused.
“So you hate me.”
“For sure,” Seonghyeon affirms, and Keonho pouts, earning himself a flick in the cheek.
“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole, bruh,” Keonho complains, making no move to get up.
“God forbid this fuckin’ asshole cares about you,” Seonghyeon shoots back, and Keonho rolls his eyes.
“Whatever, bruh,” Keonho grumbles, but he sits up and drinks the water grudgingly.
The only thing is he chugs it, which is a Big Rookie Mistake.
He tastes the bile in his mouth.
“Uh oh,” is all Keonho says before he jumps up and runs to the bathroom.
Luckily, no one is in the bathroom when he gets there and he slams the door behind him before he’s got his head over the toilet and he’s releasing demons.
He hears a knock on the door, but he’s too busy ridding his body of his mistakes. God, this was such a mistake.
The door opens and closes gently, and the lock is clicked into place. In his peripheral vision, Keonho can see Seonghyeon there with a new bottle of water and a blue plastic cup, as well as a small hand towel.
The boy settles on the floor and rubs Keonho’s back as he continues his business and flushes every once in a while. Keonho doesn’t even have to look at him to know that Seonghyeon is making a disgusted face. He’s extremely expressive, unable to hide how he feels because his face always gives it away. It even gives it away when he’s lying. As displeased as he may be, Seonghyeon is always going to be there for you. He’s a good friend in that way.
Eventually Keonho is just dry heaving, but he doesn’t feel like he can leave the toilet just yet. At this point, Seonghyeon has his fingers in his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp in soothing circles and it’s helping, to be honest. It’s also lowkey making him sleepy, which would be disgusting if he were to fall asleep with his face on the toilet seat.
Once Keonho thinks he’s done for real, he grabs some toilet paper and wipes his mouth, grimacing.
Seonghyeon hands him the plastic cup and nods at the sink cabinet. “They said there’s mouthwash down there. Use this to pour it out so you don’t get your nasty mouth all over the opening.”
Keonho gives him a reproachful look but does as he’s told. Seonghyeon stands and leans against the wall as Keonho rinses out his mouth and washes his face. He hands Keonho the hand towel and shakes his head as he watches Keonho dry his face and take slow sips of the water he’d brought for him.
“You’re a fucking dumbass, you know that right?”
“And yet you love me,” Keonho says, wiggling his eyebrows at him in the mirror.
Seonghyeon snorts, but he’s smiling as he rolls his eyes. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s okay, it can be our little secret,” Keonho says, grinning and getting all up in Seonghyeon’s face.
Vaguely, he can feel his cheeks burning and he thinks that his head knows that he’s just messing around, but his heart isn’t so sure, hasn’t quite gotten the memo, because when Seonghyeon shakes his head and laughs a little, his heartbeat stutters.
“Get your ugly face away from me,” Seonghyeon says as he puts his hand over Keonho’s face and gently pushes him away with a laugh.
“Come on, you know I’m pretty,” Keonho says, and he doesn’t know why he keeps pushing it, but he likes the way Seonghyeon’s cheeks have turned a petal pink and his eyes are sparkling with half-exasperation and half-amusement.
“You’re so fucking annoying, bruh,” Seonghyeon says, turning to unlock and open the bathroom door.
“And yet you didn’t deny me being pretty,” Keonho points out, shit-eating grin stretched across his face. “Wonder why that is.”
When the door opens, Jughoon is leaning against the wall, clearly having heard everything.
“Somebody shut the guy up,” Seonghyeon complains, walking out and rolling his eyes at Juhoon.
“I’ve been saying that for years,” Juhoon says, but he’s looking at Keonho like he knows something he doesn’t, and Keonho doesn’t like it one bit.
Keonho has shown up to Seonghyeon’s job out of pure boredom.
Seonghyeon works at a consignment store where he robs people of their designer clothing resale value. Many times his friends have given him shit and told him that he contributes to the capitalistic dumpster fire that is designer reselling, but everytime he just shrugs.
“It is what it is,” he’d say. “Get your money up before you get your funny up, bruh.”
Seonghyeon is sitting at the counter and on his phone when Keonho arrives. It’s a weekday afternoon and the store is pretty dead. There is no one trying to sell their clothes, and there's only one shopper.
He looks up when the bell on the shop door tinkles as Keonho opens it, customer service smile at the ready. It drops immediately when he sees it’s Keonho.
“What the fuck, why’d you stop smiling when you saw it was me,” Keonho complains, fake-hurt.
“What is there to smile about when you’ve come to harass me at my place of work,” Seonghyeon says drily, and it’s clear he’s trying not to smile for real this time.
“Wow, this is how you treat your best friend that you haven’t seen in nine years?”
“We literally live together.”
“Nine years,” Keonho says, louder.
“Are you here to shop or are you just here to be a nuisance and disturb the shopping experience of my customers.”
“You have one customer and they have their headphones on,” Keonho points out, and Seonghyeon rolls his eyes.
“So you’re here to be a nuisance,” He concludes.
“That’s a big word for Elmo,” Keonho says, and Seonghyeon sighs.
“See, Juhoon was right when he called you guys dumbasses.”
“Chill on me,” Keonho protests, and Seonghyeon just raises an eyebrow at him. He really does say that too much. “God forbid I come to visit you at work and to bring you coffee.”
Seonghyeon looks down at Keonho’s hands for the first time and seems to only just notice the cups in both of his hands. “Oh.”
“But if you’re gonna keep being mean to me then I’ll just keep these for myself,” Keonho says loftily, turning away playfully.
“Fine, I’ll stop being mean even though you’re being a huge baby,” Seonghyeon allows, snorting.
“Say sorry,” Keonho says, and he’s just being a little shit now and he knows it, but he likes fucking with Seonghyeon. Sue him.
“I’d rather kill myself,” Seonghyeon says instead, and Keonho knows that’s as good as he’s gonna get, so he hands over the latte with a grin. “Don’t you have class?”
“Canceled,” Keonho replies, sipping his own coffee.
“And you don’t have work?”
“My shift doesn’t start for another hour or two,” Keonho says patiently. He works at the student mail center making copies and sending out packages. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I’m just making sure you don’t have anywhere better to be,” Seonghyeon says, shrugging.
“What is better than chilling with my best friend?” Keonho says smugly, and he likes the way Seonghyeon’s eyes sparkle and the way his cheeks are dusted pink even as he shoves Keonho’s shoulder.
“Whatever, bruh,” Seonghyeon scoffs, but he’s still smiling even as he ducks his head to hide it.
They’re all piled onto the furniture at Martin, James, and Juhoon’s apartment and watching “Mid 90s” for the millionth time. Keonho doesn’t know how many more fucking times he can log the damn movie on his Letterboxd account before the app bans him and tells him to watch something else for once.
And trust him, he’s tried, but Martin’s annoying ass keeps wanting to watch the same thing over and over again.
Keonho is sitting on the armchair that James had gotten for free off of Facebook Marketplace, and Seonghyeon has thrown himself horizontally across his lap, head resting against the armrest and not even paying attention to the movie whatsoever.
Instead he’s playing some game on his phone that requires him to organize items on shelves in order to pass levels. Keonho goes back and forth between watching the movie, watching Seonghyeon play his game, and going on his own phone.
Keonho goes on his phone again and uses his other hand to scratch at Seonghyeon’s scalp gently, running the strands of his hair through his fingers mindlessly. Eventually he falls asleep, phone game open and forgotten, lips slightly parted as he breathes steadily. Keonho didn’t even notice until James asked him what he wanted to order from their favorite local Thai restaurant. He and the others were going to go pick it up.
When Keonho looked down at Seonghyeon to get his input, that’s when he realized, and he couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his lips as he looked back up and said he’ll just eat whatever they want to order for everyone.
When the others have gone to pick up the food in James’ car, Keonho finds himself staring at the gentle slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes look against his cheek and the sheen on his parted lips. He continues stroking Seonghyeon’s hair, laughing a little to himself when he realizes that the boy is leaning into his touch even in his sleep.
Go thrifting, they said, the thrift is where the heat is at, they said.
They’re not wrong, Keonho thinks grudgingly to himself, especially since they thrift in the rich neighborhoods. He doesn’t think there is a single time he hasn’t left with at least one item of clothing. But as many good finds as they’ve had, there are also some really bad pieces that Keonho questions the existence of. What makes people and thrift stores think that someone is going to want to buy fifteen family reunion t-shirts with their family name on the front with shitty clipart. But, hey, one man’s trash is another’s treasure or whatever.
As usual, Martin is taking forever because he looks through every single piece of clothing in the place, and then spends even longer in the music section.
Juhoon is looking through all the women’s tops in search of a vintage Cop Copine shirt. Fat fucking chance, but a boy can hope, Keonho supposes. Especially since the people selling the shirts on Depop and Ebay are charging an arm and a leg for shirts that aren’t even in good condition.
James is looking through all the hats despite the others’ warnings of contracting head lice. He already has a shopping cart full of clothing and has yet to hit the fitting rooms, which will take 9 years in itself. It’s likely that Seonghyeon and Keonho will finish before everyone else and walk over to the ice cream shop next door and share a scoop of something.
To be honest, Keonho really can’t complain about the others taking forever, not when he and Seonghyeon have spent the past two hours going through every pair of jeans in the place.
Occasionally, Seonghyeon will find a pair of jeans he thinks Keonho would like and will hold them out towards him in question, but most times Keonho will reject them. It’s not that he’s wrong about which jeans Keonho would like, but he’s just trying his best not to buy more than three pairs this time around, and he’s already got two pairs slung over his shoulder.
Since the two have looked through every pair of jeans in the place, they are beginning to approach the section of sizes that would be ridiculous to wear even with a belt and tasteful sagging. Before they get to that point though, Seonghyeon points out a pair of jeans that Keonho actually does like enough to consider making it his last pair.
“I’m not sure if they’d fit okay,” Keonho says, eyeing the waist specifically.
Seonghyeon comes over and takes the jeans off the hanger, hooking the hanger on his belt loop. He comes close enough for Keonho to be able to get a whiff of his cologne and the Burt’s Bees watermelon lip balm he’d applied a few minutes earlier. Vaguely, he wonders what it’d taste like.
Keonho freezes, taken aback by his own thoughts.
What the fuck man.
He can feel his cheeks heat up, but Seonghyeon doesn’t seem to have noticed.
Seonghyeon wraps the waist of the jeans around Keonho’s neck, their tried and true method of knowing whether pants would fit without having to try it on. He leans closer and over in order to see behind Keonho.
“They’re only like an inch or two too big,” Seonghyeon murmurs, and his breath is warm and smells of spearmint from the gum he’s been chewing.
Keonho thought the sizing comparison would stop there, but Seonghyeon drops the jeans down to hold them against Keonho’s waist, his hands gripping onto both the jeans and his hips.
Keonho instantly feels like he’s burning up, a full body wildfire traveling over his skin and making him start to sweat. This situation only gets worse and more humiliating when Juhoon turns down the aisle they’re in, his own haul hooked over his hand in the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze flicks from Keonho’s face, the Seonghyeon, to Seonghyeon’s hands on Keonho’s hips, and then back up to Keonho’s face.
Keonho feels like he’s about to turn into a pile of ash right at Seonghyeon’s feet.
“I think you’d be fine with a belt, but there might be too much heel bite, and I know you’re not really into that as much,” Seonghyeon says, his head tilted to the side.
“Yeah,” Keonho says, flustered, and his voice cracks at the end.
Juhoon snorts, drawing attention to himself. Seonghyeon pulls away and turns around, nodding at Juhoon to acknowledge him, and then turns back to Keonho, though not nearly as close as he was before. Vaguely, Keonho misses the contact, and that sends flares of confusion through him.
“You gonna get ‘em?” Seonghyeon asks, but in a way that makes it clear to him that he’s already said this and is just repeating himself since Keonho hadn’t answered the first time.
Keonho clears his throat. “Yeah.”
Seonghyeon flashes him that signature half-smile and tosses the jeans over Keonho’s shoulder, and he stumbles a little. Seonghyeon leans in closer and brushes his thumb right below Keonho’s eye, his tough featherlight and gentle. “Eyelash,” He says as an explanation. He holds it towards him, looking at him expectantly. “Make a wish and blow.”
It feels like they’re in a vacuum, their own world with their own air, time is frozen and everything else around them has faded away.
Keonho makes a wish and blows quickly, simultaneously wanting this moment to be over and also for it never to end, feeling suddenly shy under Seonghyeon’s gaze. The boy smiles at him and walks off without another word.
Keonho’s cheeks are still burning when he realizes Juhoon has watched this whole thing, looking way too amused.
Keonho swallows, turning away and putting his hands on his cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from them. What the fuck goes on.
Keonho is laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling.
He has his earbuds in but he isn’t listening to music anymore because his phone died and he’s too lazy to plug it in. He’d been listening to Snow Strippers and doing some intense self-reflection.
In fact, he’s been doing about a week’s worth of self-reflection, thinking about the same things and denying them over and over again until he’s exhausted himself.
So, it in fact is not normal for your body to react with stuttered heartbeats and constantly blushing around your best friend. He’s sure of that now. But what does any of this fucking mean, bro. It can’t be a fucking crush because he’s had crushes and he’s never felt like this before about any of them. At least he doesn’t think so.
If he’s being honest with himself he doesn’t think he’s had a real crush on anyone since middle school, and that barely counts. Like, of course he likes Seonghyeon, that’s his best friend. It’d be pretty concerning if he didn’t like his own best friend. And of course he loves Seonghyeon, same answer—that’s his best friend. He’d never deny loving him, they’ve been best friends since middle school. Maybe even before that.
But there’s something different, isn’t there? Something off about this whole thing?
There’s a little nagging feeling in the back of his head, a little Seonghyeon-shaped soft spot on his heart that is pushing him towards other conclusions, but he refuses to acknowledge it. No. Absolutely not. It’s getting harder to ignore the line of thinking that the logic in his brain is wanting to turn him towards, especially not that he doesn’t have music to distract him.
He’s just staring at the cracks in the ceiling and trying not to think about how close Seonghyeon had been to him the other day, how his heart had stuttered a little, how he’d thought about t*sting his l*pb*lm. His brain is being so fucking loud.
Keonho shudders. He needs a lobotomy, stat.
He vaguely hears a knocking on his open door and he lifts his head to see Seonghyeon standing there, his earbuds draped around his neck like they usually are, his eyebrows raised. He’s wearing a stupid little cardigan and one of his stupid scarves and his stupid beanies and he looks really fucking cu—
Jesus christ. Stop that shit.
Keonho takes his own earbuds out and lays his head back down.
“What’s up.” He tries to sound unbothered, but he sounds fucking stupid, even to himself
“I texted you like, twenty minutes ago asking if you wanted to get food,” Seonghyeon says, his voice tight.
“My phone died like thirty minutes ago,” Keonho says glumly, sighing dramatically and thinking that maybe that will ease the bit of tension he’s feeling in the air.
“And you didn’t want to plug it in?”
“Too lazy.”
“Bruh.” Seonghyeon comes over and grabs Keonho’s phone off the bed and grabs the wire literally inches away and plugs his phone in, shaking his head the whole way. “So?”
“So, what.” Keonho is avoiding eye contact now that Seonghyeon is closer.
“Do you want to get food with me,” Seonghyeon says impatiently now.
“I’m not hungry,” Keonho lies, and his body decides to betray him right in that moment and growls.
“You’re such a fucking liar,” Seonghyeon scoffs. “You’ve been home all day and holed up in your room the whole time and haven’t left.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even Keonho can hear the forced lightheartedness in his voice and he cringes a little to himself.
“Why are you being so fucking weird.” Seonghyeon sounds tired, and Keonho wants to fix it, wants to make it better but he can’t stop himself from being weird, he doesn’t know how to.
“I’m not being weird,” Keonho denies, laughing awkwardly.
“Yes, you are.”
“How?”
“You just are.”
They’re both silent for a minute or two, and Keonho wracks his brain for something to say, something to lighten the mood like he usually can, but he comes up empty and the silence grows and Keonho can barely stand it.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Seonghyeon says quietly, his voice thin, brittle.
“No, I’m not.”
That’s a lie, and Keonho knows it. He is avoiding him. He feels like his world has been turned upside down by this slow realization that’s been creeping up on him lately. He won’t even allow himself to fully dwell on it, to think on it too hard. He doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s been avoiding the subject like the plague and he feels guilty because Seonghyeon is so sweet, so sensitive, and it takes a lot for him to bring things up when he’s bothered by them and here Keonho is gaslighting him and denying anything being wrong.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” Seonghyeon’s voice is barely above a whisper, and it shakes a little at the end.
This makes Keonho finally look at him in the face. Seonghyeon eyes have a glazed look about them, even if they aren’t welled up with tears now, it looks like they will be soon. And yet.
“I am talking to you,” Keonho says, and they’re quiet for another minute. He knows this is the exact wrong thing to say, but he can’t help himself.
Seonghyeon takes a deep breath and gets up.
“You’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, Keonho.” He has his back turned to him now so Keonho can’t see his face as he’s walking towards the door, but there’s no mistaking the shake in his voice and it’s too late now for Keonho to take it back.
Seonghyeon is walking away and Keonho can’t find it in him to chase after him even though he desperately wants to.
There's tension in the air as Juhoon and Keonho are walking to their team dance practice. Seonghyeon hasn’t shown up in a week and he’s refused to be wherever Keonho is and it’s been the elephant in the room among their friends.
Keonho doesn’t even know how he’s meant to fix this.
(That’s a lie, he knows exactly how to fix this, he’s just a cowardly loser who doesn’t want to face the fucking music.)
“So,” Juhoon says, and Keonho winces.
“Bruh, don’t even start,” Keonho sighs, shoving his hands inside his hoodie pocket. They have a long walk across campus and he really does not want to spend it talking about his fuckass feelings or Seonghyeon or anything else.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do,” Keonho sighs, hanging his head, kicking at a pebble in his path like a stereotypical sad person in a movie or something.
“What was I going to say, then.” Juhoon sounds amused, but this isn’t a laughing matter, even Keonho knows this.
“You were going to call me a fucking asshole for treating Seonghyeon the way I did,” Keonho says glumly.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Okay, what were you going to say then?” Keonho asks, raising his eyebrows.
“I was going to call you a fucking asshole for treating Seonghyeon the way you did,” Juhoon says, and Keonho just looks at him.
“Bruh.”
“And that you’re a piece of shit and that you don’t deserve to be called his best friend if you’re going to let things continue as they have been,” Juhoon continues, tone casual as if he’s talking about the weather. It’s his way. Keonho winces.
“Chill on me,” Keonho complains, mostly joking because he knows it’s all true.
“If you say that one more time and especially on the topic of you mistreating Seonghyeon, I’m going to beat the shit out of you and I’m not fucking joking.” Juhoon’s voice is flat, even more flat than usual, and Keonho stops walking, suddenly a little frightened of his friend. Juhoon raises his eyebrows. “What, you think I’m playing?”
“No, I don’t think you are, which is why I’m about to shit myself,” Keonho says, hoping he isn’t cowering.
“Good,” Juhoon says, sounding satisfied with himself, even smiling a little. It doesn’t make Keonho feel any less scared. They’re quiet as they continue walking until Juhoon spots a bench and sits down, nodding at the spot beside him. A feeling of dread washes over Keonho, but has no choice but to sit, lest the boy beats the shit out of him.
“So, why are you such an asshole,” Juhoon says after a moment, having given Keonho what he probably thought was enough time to prepare himself for a grilling. He’s practically got an interrogation room spotlight trained on him, and Keonho can feel the sweat begin to bead at the back of his neck from nerves.
Keonho struggles to come up with a response, not really wanting to get into the emotions and feelings of it all right away, so he settles on a: “Listen.”
“I’m listening,” Juhoon says impatiently, because he expects a real response from his friend.
Juhoon is a guard dog, albeit a docile one most of the time unless he’s been provoked—he’s a guard dog nonetheless. He’s always been this way, for as long as Keonho and their friends have known him. He’s always dubbed as the most “nonchalant” and the most chill, but he has his scary moments, and more people would benefit if they operated with more fear around him.
“I’m a fucking coward,” Keonho says finally.
“And the sky is blue and Martin is seven feet tall,” Juhoon snorts.
“CHILL—” Keonho stops when Juhoon raises an eyebrow. He’s silent again as he forces himself to think about Seonghyeon, think about how sad he had looked when he’d asked why Keonho had been avoiding him, why he wasn’t talking to him. “It’s a defense mechanism."
Juhoon rolls his eyes. “For what.”
“For my real feelings,” Keonho says cagily, avoiding eye contact now. God, he can’t believe he’s being forced to talk about this, out in public too.
“Because you’re allergic to being genuine and heartfelt,” Juhoon supplies for him, rolling his eyes.
“Perhaps that is true.” Keonho allows, and Juhoon snorts.
“And what are your real feelings,” Juhoon prompts, waiting for him to say it himself even though the guy clearly already knows the answer. This whole conversation feels like a humiliation ritual, and maybe he deserves it but Keonho thinks he’s allowed to be unhappy about it.
Keonho swallows with difficulty over the lump in his throat, heart racing. He can’t help the way he starts bouncing his leg like some hyperactive school kid. “Uh.”
There’s a long pause as Keonho tries to figure out how to word it without feeling mortified and like he wants to self-immolate. Apparently he takes too long to answer, because Juhoon does it for him.
“You’re in love with Seonghyeon.”
What makes this statement even more jarring is the way that Juhoon says it with such finality, like it’s a fact set in stone, written in all the books throughout history, like it’s known. This may be what his brain was trying to tell him, even with all the countermeasures that Keonho has taken to not think about it.
“I’m what.” Keonho’s mouth has gone dry, and the shock of hearing it has even stopped his bouncing leg. He’s just frozen.
“Don’t act more stupid than you are,” Juhoon says drily, and Keonho frowns.
“Bruh, can you be nice to me for once. I’m having a tough time,” Keonho complains, sinking lower on the bench, hands over his face. He can feel his face heating up.
“You know who else deserves to be treated nicely because they’re having a tough time?” Juhoon reminds him, and Keonho can practically hear the eyebrow raise.
Keonho cringes. “That’s fair.”
“Why is it so hard for you to admit? Literally everyone knows,” Juhoon asks, exasperated.
“Who is everyone, the fuck?” Keonho splutters, feeling violated.
“Literally everyone,” Juhoon deadpans.
“How come I didn’t know then, huh?” Keonho complains, and Juhoon opens his mouth to answer only for Keonho to cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a fucking dumbass, shut up.”
Juhoon smiles for once and Keonho feels the tiniest bit better even if he did have to insult himself to get it out of him. “I don’t know why it comes as such a shock to you when everyone can see the way you look at him.”
Keonho blinks at this. How he looks at him? “What do you mean everyone can see the way I look at him. How do I look at him?”
Juhoon shrugs, crossing his arms. “Like he’s the only one in the room. Like he’s the only one that matters. When you make a stupid joke, you check to see if he laughs. When someone says something stupid, you look for him.” Keonho is flabbergasted. He doesn’t even remember doing any of this. Or maybe he does, but he’s always seen it as something he does because they’re best friends. “He does it back, so don’t feel like it’s one-sided.”
Keonho is speechless, truly.
“Why does being in love with Seonghyeon freak you out so much?” Juhoon asks, shaking his head.
“I didn’t even realize that was what it was until like. Now. And because what if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Keonho fusses, distressed. There are way too many thoughts ricocheting around the corners of his head right now, and nothing is sticking long enough for him to pick up on them. It’s way too much. “What if I ruin our friendship?”
Juhoon just looks at him. “You really are a dumbass.”
Keonho just pouts before he’s got his head in his hands, wanting to scream. “God, I really wish I had a Geek Bar. I shouldn’t have quit, I need a smoke so fucking bad, bruh,” Keonho wails.
Juhoon softens a little. “He feels the same way, bro.”
“Which part,” Keonho asks, looking at him now.
“Both parts.” Juhoon pauses. “Maybe even the Geek Bar part.”
Keonho snorts. “How do you know?”
“God, what is this, the fifth grade? Are you going to pass him a note telling him that you like him and whether he feels the same way, check yes or no?” Juhoon sounds exasperated now, beginning to lose his patience with Keonho and he can’t even blame him.
“I’M SCARED, OKAY?” Keonho yells, attracting the attention of passersby. “I’M SCARED.”
“Well, don’t be.” Juhoon says it like it’s so simple, an easy fix.
“Easy for you to say, you’re not in love with your best friend and terrified that it’ll ruin the friendship,” Keonho talking loudly now, he knows he is because everyone that is passing by is looking at him weirdly but he doesn’t even fucking care at this point.
“He literally feels the same, what is there to be scared of.” Juhoon sighs, looking up at the sky before he levels his gaze onto Keonho.
“It not working out and then ruining our friend group.” Keonho feels like he just keeps repeating himself and Juhoon isn’t understanding and he doesn’t know how to make him understand. There are things at stake here. At least in his head.
“The only way that you can ruin your friendship with him and fuck with the friend group is if you keep acting the way you are,” Juhoon says simply. “I don’t fuck with the way you’ve been treating Seonghyeon. None of us do. We’ll vote you off the fucking island if we have to, I don’t care. Stop being an ass.”
Keonho is quiet as he sits in his guilt, watches unseeingly as more people walk by, so unaware that his world is crashing around him. He’s being dramatic, he knows, but the world as he knows it is changing and he’s having a hard time dealing with it.
“He feels the same way as you and is just as scared as you, but you know he won’t say anything first.” Juhoon sighs. “Bite the bullet, or nothing will ever happen and you’ll sit here wondering ‘what if?’ and ruin your friendship in the process by acting the way you are.”
Keonho looks down at his fingers, picks at the dry skin at the edges of his nailbeds. “Is he mad.”
“You know he can never be mad at you,” Juhoon says gently for once. “He’s sad and hurt. And he misses you.” Keonho feels a little flutter in his chest, lets himself feel it fully, decides finally that it isn’t so bad.
“I was just scared and trying to bury it, and in the process I hurt him when I didn't mean to. I was too focused on myself and my own feelings,” Keonho says quietly, ashamed.
“So, now focus on him and apologize to him and talk things out. Explain yourself and tell him how you feel,” Juhoon says, voice just as quiet now, placating.
“That’s so scary,” Keonho whines softly.
“And he’s just as scared. You guys can be scared together and figure it out together,” Juhoon reminds him, and Keonho sighs heavily, already dreading the conversation that is to come.
“Thanks,” Keonho says finally.
Juhoon stands up and smacks the back of Keonho’s head, hard, hard enough to elicit a yelp from the younger boy. “No problem, dumbass.’
Seonghyeon didn’t show up from dance practice again, so afterwards Keonho heads home to shower and change into something clean so he doesn’t stink up the place while he confesses and begs for forgiveness.
During his shower he scripts out the whole conversation, rehearses in his head what he thinks he should say, strategizes what he’d do if Seonghyeon straight up rejects him.
(He’s going to go to the roof of the apartment building and throw himself off.)
He decides to go in comfy clothes, a hoodie and some sweats, both of which belong to Seonghyeon, now that he’s looking closely at them. Their clothes often get mixed up.
He paces back and forth in their apartment entryway, trying to work off some of the nerves to no avail. He’ll just have to suck it up.
Once he’s ready, he heads over to Juhoon, James, and Martin’s apartment, because that’s where Seonghyeon has been staying for the past few days since he walked out on Keonho. It’s about a fifteen minute walk from their own apartment, and he hates imagining Seonghyeon walking all that way and crying the whole time. Keonho is such a bad friend.
When he knocks on the door, it takes a minute for the door to open, revealing James, who leans against the doorway, arms crossed when he sees it’s Keonho. He raises his eyebrows. “Have you finally decided to stop being an asshole?”
Keonho pouts. “I get it, okay, I’m a fucking dick, I’m sorry.”
“Good that you know, but you shouldn’t be apologizing to me,” James says drily, and he doesn’t move from the doorway, so Keonho leans to the side to look inside the apartment behind him.
“That’s why I’m here,” Keonho says reproachfully. “Is he here?”
“No, but he’ll be back in a few. He went to the store down the street to buy something.” James still doesn’t move, so Keonho clears his throat awkwardly.
“Well, are you going to let me in so I can wait for him?”
James squints at him suspiciously for a moment before he steps out of the way slowly, and if he’s being honest, Keonho doesn’t blame him.
When he steps inside, he notices the music coming from Martin’s room and his door opens a moment later, and his eyes narrow when he sees Keonho.
“Hey, asshole,” Martin says, arms crossed.
“I deserve that,” Keonho says glumly.
“Good that you know,” Martin says, shaking his head.
“I’m here to apologize to him,” Keonho says, frowning.
“Good, or else I’d have to beat the shit out of you,” Martin says casually, and Keonho should really just get used to threats of violence from his friends—he deserves it after all.
“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” Keonho sighs, hanging his head.
Martin turns to James, who is still standing in the entryway for some reason, looking as if he’s contemplating something.
“Let’s go get food,” James says suddenly, already putting his shoes on.
“Now?” Martin asks, sounding confused.
“So they can have privacy,” James explains, and Martin shrugs, heading towards the door and turning off the music in his room from his phone. Once James grabs his car keys, they’re both gone without another word, without so much as a ‘bye’ to Keonho.
Now, he’s alone, just sitting on the couch and waiting, too nervous to even go on his phone and scroll on TikTok as a distraction. He nearly shits himself when he hears the key in the door and it opening, and for some reason, his first instinct is to stand up, hands clasped like a reprimanded school boy.
Seonghyeon sees him and just looks at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. When he begins to turn away, Keonho has the instinct to protest, as if the boy is going to leave, but he’s just shutting the door behind him and turning the deadbolt.
His back is still turned as he speaks, toeing his shoes off as he does. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” Keonho manages, still standing when Seonghyeon turns around and sets his bag on the floor by the couch.
“Now you want to talk,” Seonghyeon says, like a statement, not a question, punctuated with some bitterness and Keonho instantly feels a pit in his stomach, the nerves amplified. Seonghyeon unwraps his scarf from around his neck and drapes it over the back of the couch. His expression continues to be unreadable, and Keonho continues to feel unsettled.
“Yes, I do.” Keonho watches as Seonghyeon sits down at the far end of the couch, as far away as he can get from Keonho, looking straight ahead. “I’m sorry it took me this long.”
“Is that all you’re sorry for?” Seonghyeon asks, gaze never leaving the screen of the TV mounted on the wall. It’s off, so they could see their reflection in it, drawing attention to the huge gap between them, one that had never existed before today.
“No,” Keonho says quietly, taking a deep breath and forcing himself not to look down at his hands like he wants to so badly. He sits back down on the couch, but turns his body so he’s facing Seonghyeon, even if the boy won’t look back at him. “I came to apologize for how I treated you. I was dealing with some things and trying to work through them and I wasn’t comfortable talking about it at the time and in the process, I hurt you and I’m sorry.” Keonho feels out of breath after this because he said all of it in one go, barely taking the time to breathe in between the rushed words.
Seonghyeon is quiet for a long time, and Keonho couldn’t help stare at the side of his face, taking in the gentle slope of his nose, the natural pout of his lips, the sheen of his favorite watermelon lip balm. It’s only when he speaks that Keonho is yanked out of his admiring stupor.
“Did I do something?” Seonghyeon asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “It had to be something I did, right? For you to not feel like you could talk to me?”
He sounds tearful, and it’s clear now why Seonghyeon isn’t looking at Keonho, and he can feel the way his heart tightens in his chest as he realizes the other boy is blinking rapidly, as if to stop the tears from coming.
“It wasn’t anything you did,” Keonho rushes to correct. “I swear.”
“Then why couldn’t you talk to me about it?” Seonghyeon’s voice breaks at the end and Keonho can see a single tear roll down Seonghyeon’s cheek. In his usual dramatic fashion, Keonho actually wants to fucking kill himself for being such a fucking idiot asshole.
Keonho moves so he’s closer to Seonghyeon, pulls his hoodie sleeve down over his hand so he can use it to wipe the tear away. He takes a deep breath.
“Because I love you and I’m a fucking idiot and a coward,” Keonho says, fighting the urge to take it back out of fear.
“I love you too, of course. You’re my best friend,” Seonghyeon says, sounding confused.
“I don’t mean it in a friend way,” Keonho says quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I mean in a feelings way. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while now and I was just too scared to admit it.”
Seonghyeon sniffs and turns to look at him for the first time, eyes glassy with unshed tears as he searches Keonho’s face for the punchline of the joke. “You’re sure.”
“The most sure I’ve been about anything,” Keonho says seriously, holding his gaze.
Seonghyeon is still looking at him like he doesn’t quite believe him, his brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Keonho can’t help but follow the motion, looking from his mouth to his eyes and back. Seonghyeon seems to have noticed this because his eyes have widened, lips slightly parted at the realization.
Fuck it.
Keonho leans in, pressing his mouth firmly against Seonghyeon’s, their lips slotting together in a way that is almost too perfect, like they were shaped for each other. He pulls away, breathless, like they’d just shared an air-consuming kiss and not just what was essentially a peck.
“You actually mean it?” Seonghyeon asks, just as breathless, cheeks dusted pink the way Keonho likes.
“I love you. I loved you for a long time,” Keonho says firmly, nodding, and Seonghyeon smiles that smile, that one that makes his eyes sparkle and makes Keonho feel like he’s just run a marathon. He’ll run marathons for that smile if he has to.
“I love you too,” Seonghyeon says finally, and this time he’s the one that leans in for a kiss, a real one, one that actually does steal their breath away and makes it feel as if their hearts are racing in unison, in their own world and in their own frozen moment.
outtake
Keonho and Seonghyeon don’t even notice when the apartment door has been unlocked and opened, but they do hear it when Martin makes a noise of absolute disgust when he realizes the two of them are making out on his couch.
“Aw, that’s so fucking nasty, bruh.”