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It's hard to remember a time where “Suho and Sieun” was ever just “Suho” or “Sieun”. The two are practically glued at the hip, a package deal you can't back out of once you've somehow made your way into their shared quiet lives. They are so inexplicably intertwined that it'll take a long time unwinding to notice all of the habits Sieun has picked up from Suho, and all the tics Suho has picked up from Sieun, had you not known either of them previously.
Although, one thing is apparent to even a passing stranger — Sieun likes his personal space, and Suho also likes Sieun's personal space. Suho is the only person who can break through the imaginary barrier surrounding Sieun without a second thought, and also the only person Sieun would let in without a second thought.
That constant closeness can sometimes lead to some awkward moments. Like now, as Sieun and Suho are sitting on a park bench, thighs touching, arms linked, and a boba tea in each opposite hand from the new shop that opened near Sieun's apartment.
Suho's arm is tight around Sieun's, which is limp at his side, slotted between the outsides of their thighs. Suho is drumming his fingers against his midriff as he watches the passersby.
Sieun has his eyes fixed on the fountain a few feet away from them, watching the water flow down steadily. He's thankful Suho offers (more or less forces) to take him on nice outings like this, when the walls of his apartment are too suffocating and he can't stare at his notes without the words all jumbling together. It's like Suho has a built-in clock that tells him when Sieun is overworking himself – and he's there, at the drop of a hat, ready to save him from spiraling.
Suho takes his first sip of his banana boba tea and lets out a content sigh. It doesn't take long after for him to call out for Sieun's attention, “Yah, Sieun-ah, what flavor did you get?”
Sieun slowly turns his head before his eyes lock off of the fountain and onto Suho's face – a quirk of his that Suho finds sickeningly adorable.
“Huh?” Sieun's mouth is hanging open slightly as he's still returning to himself after zoning out.
“What flavor's your boba?” Suho repeats himself with a nudge against Sieun's shoulder. He can't hide the tiny smile that inches its way onto his face.
“Oh, it's taro.” Sieun's eyes shift down to the drink in his hand.
“Lemme try some.” Suho sets his own drink down on the bench and reaches for Sieun's. Sieun hands it over without thinking.
Suho takes two big gulps and swallows. He looks at Sieun almost offended when he tips his head back up.
“What the hell? This is amazing. I should've gotten that,” Suho exclaims, guiding the drink back to Sieun's hand.
A smile threatens to curve the edges of Sieun's mouth as Suho picks his boba tea back up and starts slurping it down, his eyebrows still furrowed angrily. He turns back to the fountain and brings the straw to his lips.
Sieun's bottom lip barely makes contact with the tip of the straw, wet with saliva, before he puts the pieces together – Suho just drank out of this. The straw is now covered in Suho's saliva. Suho drank from Sieun's saliva covered straw. The tips of his ears turn pink as he slams the drink onto the bench. The sound makes Suho jump and nearly choke on his tea.
“Wha—” Suho coughs. “Are you good?”
Sieun's eyes are wide open staring at his lap. He tries to play it cool.
“Fine. I didn't mean to slam it that hard.”
Suho isn't entirely convinced, but he doesn't feel like prying either. He settles on silently observing Sieun instead.
He notices that Sieun doesn't reach for his drink again. Suho offers a solution – a thinly veiled attempt to drink more of that delicious taro boba.
“Did you not like it? We can swap—”
Sieun immediately reacts with a firm, way too loud “No.” When Suho draws back in surprise, he stutters, “I mean, it's fine. I didn't even want boba that much.”
“You sure?”
Sieun nervously fumbles with the straw with his thumb, twirling it around in the cup. He was enjoying it, but he doesn't want to – he can't – admit that knowing that Suho's lips were all over that straw is making him incredibly flustered. His stomach feels funny enough that he could go without drinking anyway.
It feels cliché, utterly childish that he's even struggling to look Suho in the eye right now. It shouldn't be that serious, yet Sieun can't shake the fluttering in his chest.
The silence makes Suho frown. When Sieun does manage to look up at him, it nearly causes his resolve to break.
“Sieun-ah—”
That's what does it. Sieun blurts out, “You just drank out of this.”
A beat. Suho chuckles softly, “Yeah? What about it?”
Sieun freezes. “It's unhygienic,” he manages to stammer out.
Suho studies him a little closer. He feels like he must've gone insane because he's starting to notice the blush that's spreading across Sieun's cheeks rapidly. Oh.
Another beat. The heat rising up Suho's neck and ears is starting to match Sieun's flustered complexion. He tries to deflect.
“You think I'm that gross, Sieun-ah?”
“What—No—”
“Then drink it," Suho taunts him. "You want me to wipe the straw for you?” Suho grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it out as a makeshift napkin.
Sieun's eyes dart to the movement for just a second before he looks back down at the drink. Suho's shirt that's been clinging to his body the entire day isn't any better alternative – if anything it makes Sieun even redder.
“It’s fine.” Sieun sputters. He brings the straw back to his lips and starts sipping.
Suho bites back a full-blown grin. He feels like a giddy schoolgirl smiling to himself over an indirect kiss. Only when Sieun finishes his tea does Suho speak up.
“Or you could've wiped the straw yourself,” He smirks.
Sieun feels himself getting hot again. He sighs, squinting with embarrassment as he snatches his arm away from Suho's and stands up.
“Shut up.”
It's been a week since that incident. The two are no strangers to ending up way too close, in compromising situations that definitely make them look like more than best friends. Ever since that day though, it feels like incidents like those have only ramped up tenfold. Maybe Sieun is just too hyper aware, now analysing every little interaction, but he's convinced something is up.
They're now in the school lab, doing an experiment for chemistry class. Naturally, they were paired up together.
Suho is only half paying attention to what Sieun is explaining, but he's a dutiful lab partner nonetheless. He holds a test tube in each hand, pouring each one into the beaker as Sieun instructs him. The combination of the chemicals is supposed to turn the mixture a hot pink, but when Suho stirs it, nothing happens.
“Huh… Are you sure that was right, Sieun-ah?”
Sieun looks up from the instructions, just as confused as him. He looks so cute in his little lab coat that Suho has to suppress the urge to smush his cheeks that keeps growing with each passing day. Sieun would surely maim him then.
“Are you really questioning me?” Sieun raises an eyebrow. “You're the one who poured them. I knew I should've just done it myself,” Sieun mumbles.
He looks back down at the paper, reading through the instructions again anyway just to make sure he didn't mix up his words. It's hard for Sieun to turn Suho down, no matter what he asks for. He would've been fine with doing all of the work himself, much like he's always been forced to do prior to meeting Suho, but Suho had practically begged him to ‘do the fun part’ while he does ‘all the boring nerd stuff’.
Suho leans down until his head is leveled with Sieun's. He peers over his shoulder at his notes, his cheek brushing against Sieun's. The heat of Suho's skin pricking against Sieun's is making Sieun dizzy.
“It doesn't make sense. I did everything you told me to.”
Sieun doesn't struggle against Suho, but he grows rigid when Suho's chest meets his shoulder blade.
“Did you dump the clear one after the yellow—”
Sieun turns his head as he's talking, just as Suho is turning his. Their lips brush against each other for a microsecond before both of them jolt back. Suho nearly trips on the chair next to him.
The commotion makes the rest of the students in the lab look up and at their table. There are faint murmurs and chuckles as the others turn back to each other. Great.
Sieun regains his composure as best he can. He coughs and turns his head back down, jotting down the report on their failed experiment. His hands are steady and his handwriting precise, though the heat pooling in his cheeks tells an entirely different story.
Suho doesn't hide the boyish smirk that finds its way onto his lips. He bites down the plushness of his bottom lip, as if he can still feel the ghost of Sieun's lips on his. It's entertaining to him, how Sieun fumbles over himself at any point of contact. He only jumped because Sieun's jolt was so sudden it startled him. He thinks about what would've happened if neither pulled away.
Sieun's eyes shift to Suho subtly every once in a while throughout the day, just studying him. He tamps down the thoughts that cloud his mind that are almost all surrounding Suho's lips. He shouldn't be thinking about him like this, but Suho looks… calm. It looks like just another day for him. It makes Sieun question his entire existence.
It's a cold Friday night. The only noise heard from Sieun's bedroom are the light scribbles of his pen and the faint sounds of whatever show Suho is watching on his phone as he sprawls himself all over Sieun's bed. Suho's presence is a welcome one, not too distracting as Sieun keeps him under tight restriction – as long as he lets him study, with no loud noises, no talking, no looking over his shoulder to groan about how complicated algebra is – Suho is free to stay.
Sieun sits at his desk into the odd hours of the night, sucked into a study trance that makes him forget Suho is there entirely. Suho has long fallen asleep anyway.
A crack of thunder and rain starting to patter against the window manage to snap Sieun out of it. When he finally looks up at the clock and sees that it's now 1 a.m., he figures it's a better time than ever to call it a night and get some rest.
Once he gets up from his chair, he's finally met with the sight of Suho asleep on his bed, his phone resting on his chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing. He's out cold, and Sieun couldn't possibly make him drive his motorcycle in the rain.
Sieun makes it to the doorway with light pads of his feet before a violent crack of thunder rings out again, this time making Suho stir.
Sieun tries his best to not draw too much attention, but as he swings his bedroom door open, Suho starts coming to his senses.
“Yah, Sieun-ah, where’re you going?” Suho's eyes are puffy with sleep and he's slurring over his words a little. He lifts his head off of the pillow and there are a few rogue strands of hair sticking out from the back of his head.
“I'm gonna sleep on the couch,” Sieun answers dryly, his voice low and his eyes attempting to focus on anything else to distract him from the fact that Suho looks nice even right after waking up.
Suho springs off the bed immediately, and Sieun's eyes widen in surprise at how fast he's moving. Suho brushes past him at the doorway.
“I'll go. It's your room—”
Sieun reaches for Suho's wrist before he can think twice and cuts him off. Suho looks down at their hands in the heavy silence.
“It's storming outside,” Sieun blurts out.
Suho looks back up, still fighting to keep his eyes open. “I meant the couch.”
“Oh.” Sieun's grip only loosens a little. For whatever reason, he finds another excuse. “But it's cold out there.”
If Suho weren't half asleep he'd be coming up with some witty response. Truthfully all he can think about is going back to sleep. He drags Sieun fully back into the room.
“We can share the bed. You don't have to make it weird,” Suho mumbles.
He pulls Sieun onto the bed with little force, though it doesn't take much for Sieun's knees to give out under him. Suho gets under the sheets and scoots over until his back is against the wall, and Sieun gets in after him.
The bed is entirely too small for two teenage boys to fit in it. Sieun has never shared a bed with anyone before. He fights through it, laying on his side, teetering on the edge of the bed, close enough to fall off if he moves wrong. There's still barely any space between them. Suho is already snoring.
You don't have to make it weird. Sieun furrows his brows. There's nothing weird about it. Suho has never had a problem with being so close they can feel their breaths against each other's skin, but this is suddenly different? They're only sharing a bed because Suho is too stubborn for his own good.
Sieun manages to doze off after a while, a valiant effort through Suho's loud snores. It's only a few hours later that he finds himself awake again, and the feeling he's woken up with makes him wonder if he's somehow still dreaming.
His arm is around Suho's waist, and Suho's is around his. The miniscule distance between them was broken even in their deepest sleep as they lay torso to torso, legs tangled in each other. Suho is laying on his back, still snoring away, as Sieun is clinging to his side.
Either because he's too tired or too comfortable – probably both – Sieun doesn't make an effort to move. The rain has stopped and the room is nearly pitch dark. It doesn't take long for Sieun to drift back to sleep. He stops fighting the constant pull that drags him towards Suho.
A few hours pass until the birds start chirping outside. Suho takes all of 30 minutes to fully return to reality, the weight of Sieun's body half on top of him pressing him down like a weighted blanket.
Suho looks around the room before his eyes find Sieun. His head is tucked under Suho's chin so he can't get a clear view of his face. Suho can feel his slightly parted lips against his skin, and he can hear the tiniest snores that slip past them. He tries not to chuckle so he doesn't wake him.
He's heard countless times how much trouble Sieun has sleeping, or staying asleep – yet he sounds peaceful as ever against Suho's neck. The smile on Suho's face is triumphant as his body relaxes and he lets himself drift off until Sieun wakes up later and forces both of them out of bed.
Their little life continues on as normal. Sieun is cramming for exams and Suho is starting to worry that he might crane his neck over his books for so long that it stays that way.
Even on a nice walk around the park to get Sieun to breathe in some fresh air for the first time in weeks, Sieun is nose deep in his english textbook. Suho looks over his shoulder and notices he's been stuck on the same page for the past 3 minutes, so he must not be retaining much still.
Suho occasionally tries to goad Sieun away from the book so he takes a proper break, but the pleas fall on deaf ears. He doesn't know how he managed to get him out of the house in this state. The sun has just finished setting and the scattered light from the streetlights isn't doing any good to Sieun's eyesight.
When Suho looks up from snooping, he realizes Sieun is about to walk head first into a tree. He acts quickly, hooking his arm around Sieun's shoulder and pulling him into his chest and away from the tree. His lips make contact with the hair on the crown of Sieun's head before he can think to stop himself. He does just before planting a proper kiss on his head.
Sieun doesn't react. To anything. Not Suho ragdolling him away from a tree or the almost-kiss on his pristine head of hair. Suho figures he must be so focused it hasn't registered to him. Until Sieun peers his head up to look at him.
“Suho-yah. Your stomach is rumbling. It's distracting.”
There's a beat. Suho chuckles incredulously.
“Heartless. You won't even take me out to dinner?” Suho jostles him around with the arm he has hooked over his shoulder in an attempt to get him to acknowledge the proximity.
Sieun goes back to his book. He sighs, “I just need to finish this section.”
Suho is stunned. Somehow, Sieun now being purposefully oblivious to all this touching is what makes his cheeks flush.
He finally gets himself to start walking again. It feels like his legs are made of jelly. He keeps guiding Sieun through the park and doesn't pull his arm away.
On Suho's 19th birthday, they share their first alcoholic drink together. They're sitting in a tight corner of the restaurant, nearly secluded from the rest of the tables. It was the only table available on a very busy Saturday night.
Their waiter is nice. He looks to be around their age, dark brown hair falling into his eyes and a boyish grin permanently plastered on his face.
Sieun starts to get the feeling that he's too nice – to Suho specifically. He doesn't know why that's setting him off, but the way he laughs at just about anything Suho says is making fire nearly come out of his eyes.
Once they get their drinks – and the waiter makes a pointed effort to brush his hand over Suho's shoulder as he walks past – Sieun starts to unravel. With a quick pour, he swigs back his first shot of soju before their food even arrives.
“Easy, Sieun-ah.” Suho stops Sieun from pouring another shot immediately after. His hand is heavy over Sieun's holding the small glass bottle. He chuckles at what he perceives to be Sieun's eagerness. “You've never drank before, have you?”
Sieun shakes his head, trying not to make a face when the alcohol heats up his throat as it slides down. It feels awful, but it stops him from thinking about their waiter making a show with his hands all over Suho.
“Slow down, hm? I don't wanna have to pick you up off the floor later.”
He doesn't end up picking Sieun off the floor, but he does have to guide Sieun outside after they've finished their meal to prevent that from happening.
Suho learns two things about how Sieun is like when he's drunk. He's no more talkative than he usually is – but he is touchy. His wandering hands somehow keep finding themselves somewhere on Suho's body. Whenever their waiter came by it somehow ramped up tenfold. At one point he felt Sieun's foot hit his calf under the table before he wrapped his own calf around it.
Sieun clings onto Suho's shirt, the fabric at Suho's midriff bunched up tightly in his fists as he tries to stop himself from swaying while they wait for a taxi.
His brain is moving at a mile a minute. Thoughts he usually manages to keep at bay find themselves at the forefront of his mind.
One wild sway of his body causes Sieun to tumble and nearly fall onto the pavement, but Suho catches him with a swift hand.
“Woah there,” Suho snickers as he guides Sieun back onto his feet. “You drank even more than me. Trying to one-up me on my birthday?”
The words feel like cotton passing through Sieun's ears, and he can't stop staring at Suho's lips, glossy with the remnants of soju.
Sieun leans in closer, standing on the tips of his toes to reach Suho's level.
“Stop talking,” Sieun mutters before he's smacking his lips against Suho's.
It's hardly a kiss, Sieun is too drunk to know how to move his lips. Suho is frozen in place, a fist full of Sieun's shirt. He's equally too drunk to fully process the situation as he just stands there, his half lidded eyes looking back at Sieun's closed ones.
Sieun pulls away after a solid 10 seconds. He's still standing on his tippy toes. A lopsided smile dawns his features. Suho's knees feel weak.
“You taste like soju.” Suho can practically hear the smile on Sieun's face. He sounds so proud of himself.
Sieun successfully leans back in to plant another clumsy kiss onto Suho's lips. It doesn't last long before Suho is ripping him away by the back of his shirt. Sieun tumbles back onto his heels.
It's one of those rare moments where Suho has no idea what to say. On top of that, Sieun is almost pouting as he looks up at him, his eyes barely open yet glossy against the streetlights. A pang of sober clarity hits Suho hard enough to realize this warrants a conversation they need to have when they're not shit faced drunk and stranded on the side of the road.
The taxi ride back to Sieun's apartment is eerily quiet. Sieun rests his head on Suho's shoulder, too disoriented to sit up straight in the moving car.
When the car stops in front of Sieun's apartment, Sieun tries to get out on his own and nearly faceplants onto the sidewalk. Suho rushes out through the other side of the car to help him to his floor before he seriously hurts himself.
Sieun can't stop staring at him the entire time. It makes Suho's chest feel heavy. They finally reach Sieun's door and Suho manages to peel Sieun away from him.
“Sleep well, Sieun-ah. Take some ibuprofen when you wake up,” Suho whispers, like his usual tone would be too harsh on Sieun's drunk ears. He manages a small crooked smile before he turns to leave.
Sieun grabs his arm, a burst of strength running through it when he yanks Suho back. His expression is hard to read. He looks like he's about to cry.
“I don't like sharing you with other people,” Sieun mutters and looks down at Suho's chest.
Suho blinks a few times. The alcohol hasn't run its course through him yet Sieun's words make him feel stone cold sober.
Sieun doesn't wait for a response before he starts mumbling again, “I like when you hold me, touch me, kiss me—Whatever. Jus’ don’t do it with someone else.”
Suho's ears start ringing. The hallway is so quiet he can hear his heart beating in his throat. It's too there, too real. Sieun has laid his heart out bare in front of him and Suho doesn't even know what to do.
So he lets go. He pulls his arm out of Sieun's grasp until Sieun is only barely hanging onto his sleeve, and then he drops his hand.
“Goodnight, Sieun-ah. You're way too drunk right now.” Suho ruffles Sieun's hair before he turns to leave.
Sieun stands in the hallway for what feels like an eternity, piecing himself back together before he retreats back to his apartment.
Sieun keeps finding new and inventive ways to avoid Suho, especially when Suho tries to talk about that chaotic night. Whether it's an assignment he needs to get done tonight, or a project he needs to meet up for, Sieun dutifully dodges any attempts Suho makes to sit down and have a proper talk. He's even downright denied remembering anything that happened, even though it's incredibly obvious that he does.
Sieun can't let himself feel these things – futile feelings that only make him weak, make Suho pull away. If he can pretend none of this happened then maybe everything can go back to how it was before. If he can ignore the elephant in the room long enough maybe it'll just walk out on its own.
Sieun is in the middle of rewatching an online class recording when his phone buzzes on the table – it's Suho. He considers letting it go to voicemail, but the longer he stares at Suho's name the closer he is to caving. He plucks the phone off the desk.
“Sieun-ah?” Suho's voice rings out through the speaker.
“Hm?” Sieun twirls his pen in his right hand.
Suho hesitates for a while. “Uh, my hot water isn't working. Can I shower at yours?”
Sieun doesn't believe him at first. The silence must be giving him away because Suho starts begging.
“I'm serious, Sieun-ah. I'll leave right after if you want me to.”
Sieun taps his pen on the table.
“Fine.”
Sieun only fully believes him when Suho shows up at his door with a change of clothes and a towel in his hand. He barely acknowledges him before he disappears back into his room.
Suho hates this. The distance. The avoiding. If Sieun would just let him talk he could explain everything, but he knows when Sieun has his mind set on something it's hard to veer it in another direction, even if it's the right one. As he runs Sieun's shampoo through his hair and the scent he's grown so familiar with fills his nose, he knows he's done for. The familiar flutter in his chest returns in a way it hasn't in weeks, and it's not even directly because of Sieun.
When Suho steps out of the bathroom, the TV in the living room is on, the volume absurdly high, yet Sieun is nowhere in sight. He'd turned it on to fill the silent apartment and avoid a potential attempt at conversation from Suho. Stubborn as he is, Suho only takes that as a challenge.
He turns the knob on Sieun's door and steps into the doorway. Sieun isn't even studying anymore, staring down at his notebook like he'd been waiting to hear the door click open and shut once Suho was done in the shower and left for good. He doesn't look up until Suho swivels his chair and they're face to face.
“We need to talk.”
Suho's hair is still dripping. A few droplets of water fall off his ends and onto Sieun's lap, trickling down the exposed skin of his thigh under his shorts. It sends a shudder running through Sieun's entire body.
“There's nothing to talk about.”
Sieun tries to turn back to his desk but Suho keeps his hand planted on the back of his chair to stop him from moving it.
“That’s bullshit, Sieun. You won't even look me in the eye. Can you just let me talk at least?” Suho can't hide the hurt written all across his face and in his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, Sieun can see it, can hear his voice wavering.
Suho not using his usual nicknames makes Sieun's stomach feel funny. No Sieun-ah, Sieunnie, the rare but occasional princess.
That's what gets him to let Suho finally talk, afraid that if he stays in his head about that minute detail the rest of the night he'll spiral.
Sieun keeps his eyes fixed on Suho's arm next to his head. He lets out a quiet “Okay.”
“I shouldn't have reacted the way I did that night, I can admit that. I was scared.” Suho gulps. His eyes drift from Sieun's face down to his lap. “And I had a feeling you would regret saying all of those things. So I pretended it didn't mean anything. I wanted to set things straight in the morning when you were sober and not two seconds away from barfing all over me, but you wouldn't let me.”
Sieun fidgets with his fingers. The words get stuck in his throat, he knows he has no logical retort to what Suho is saying. He lets him continue.
“I really like you, Sieun-ah. So much.”
Sieun's eyes immediately shoot up to Suho's face. Suho doesn't meet his gaze yet.
“I like doing all of those things with you. I don't know where you got the idea that I'd do them with anyone else, but it's just you. It's been you even when you were just the nerdy kid at the front of the class.”
Suho's hand drops to Sieun's thigh. He runs his thumb over the skin like he's remembering what Sieun's body feels like.
“And if you didn't actually mean it, if you were just drunk, we can go back to pretending it never happened, but please—”
Sieun grabs the collar of Suho's shirt and smacks Suho's lips against his. His mouth moves with purpose this time as a silent response to Suho's confession, and that's the only one Suho needs. He kisses him back, his hand coming up to cup Sieun's cheek. It feels soft against his calloused hand. Suho smiles into the kiss. It's just how he'd imagined.
They only pull apart for air. Their breaths mix together as they regain composure. It feels right, like they shouldn't exist any other way if not deeply intertwined in each other's spaces. How foolish to think they could live their lives otherwise.
“Why did you get so drunk, anyway?” Suho snorts.
Sieun breaks out into a bashful smile as his arms circle Suho's neck. He fiddles with the back of Suho's collar.
“I couldn't stand that waiter. He couldn't keep his hands off of you," he admits.
Suho blinks as he tries to revisit the memory, and laughs so hard he loses his balance, his forehead bumping against Sieun's. There are tears welling up in his eyes when he's fully back on his feet.
“Oh my god, seriously? I totally forgot about that guy.”
Sieun looks like he's seen a ghost. He's somewhere between going pale with shock or red with embarrassment. Suho laughs again before he leans in for another kiss.