Chapter Text
“Yeosang, where are all your pictures?” Wooyoung repeated.
Yeosang was frozen in place, hand still on the door handle as a buzzing sound filled his ears. He stared at Wooyoung, who stood in the center of the room looking right at him.
For once, Yeosang couldn’t decipher his expression. Surprise? Anger? Hurt? Maybe a combination of all three or maybe none. All he knew was that Wooyoung had never looked at him that way before.
“I-I’m redecorating,” he heard himself say, the sound of his own voice muddled as if he was trying to listen from underwater.
He couldn’t handle this confrontation right now. He had been trying to escape to his room, feeling the usual hurt and self-hatred bubbling up when Wooyoung once again proved he had no feelings for him.
They had shared an incredible night and it even bled into the morning before Wooyoung had to remind him that it had only been because he was upset in the first place.
“Tell me the truth, Yeosang. I know you aren’t redecorating. Why are only our pictures gone? What’s going on?”
Yeosang felt his breath getting tighter. He didn’t know how to answer, what to say. All possible excuses left his brain as everything began to grow fuzzy.
“I can’t do this right now, Wooyoung,” he managed to choke out, his grip on the door handle squeezing so tight his knuckles turned white.
“What do you mean you can’t do this right now? What’s been going on with you? I feel like you pulled away from me after that night and I don’t know why. You keep insisting that you aren’t upset with me but your actions are telling me something different. What did I do wrong Yeosang? If you don’t tell me I can’t fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you. I can’t fix it if I don’t know the problem.”
“That is the problem! You didn’t do anything!” Yeosang shouted, his words echoing in his aching head.
Yeosang finally looked up at Wooyoung, tears gathering in his eyes. Wooyoung was silent, a shocked expression covering his features.
“The problem,” he repeated softly, “is that you’ve done absolutely nothing. Everything is the same as it’s always been, and that’s how it will always be.”
Yeosang gave a dark chuckle, gaze dropping to the floor as he let go of the door and wrapped his arms around himself.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, Yeosang,” said Wooyoung, voice pained.
“That’s just it, isn’t it? You haven’t understood what I’ve been trying to tell you for a long time. And I can’t do it anymore, Wooyoung. I just can’t.”
“Can’t do what?” desperation clouded Wooyoung’s voice now. Yeosang took a deep breath.
“I wish I could have fallen in love with Yunho. He’s good to me. But I know firsthand the pain of loving someone who doesn’t love me back, and I couldn’t put him through that. But I can’t do this anymore either, Wooyoung. I can’t pretend like it doesn’t hurt. I can’t pretend that every word that comes out of your mouth doesn’t feel like a knife in my heart. You’re like a horrible addiction that I keep coming back to just to hurt myself. Everything would be easier if I could just love him instead of you.”
With his last sentence, Yeosang finally looked up to meet Wooyoung’s gaze.
Wooyoung stood frozen, shocked into silence. After a long silence, Yeosang sighed.
“Can you please leave, Wooyoung? I just want to be alone for a while,” Yeosang murmured.
Wooyoung moved almost robotically, hand reaching out for Yeosang who flinched back in response. Wooyoung dropped his hand, moving into the doorway.
“Yeosang,” he began.
“Not right now, Wooyoung. Just… go please.”
Without another word, Wooyoung left, shutting the door behind him.
Tears welled in Yeosang’s eyes. He didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe a small part of him hoped that Wooyoung would fight him, would confess that he had it all wrong and his love was returned. But all he’d received was shock. Maybe Yeosang had hidden it too well. Wooyoung seemed to truly have no idea. He could imagine Wooyoung’s shock over losing his favourite toy.
Yeosang felt himself fall to the floor, his knees hitting the ground with a thud that he didn’t feel as he choked down a sob.
He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t actually want to be alone but he’d lost the two people he took comfort in. He didn’t know how long he sat crying on the floor before he heard the muffled sound of the front door opening and closing.
Wooyoung had left.
He wanted to call Yunho. Wanted to break down in his arms like he always did, but he couldn’t. Just last night he had said he would give him space.
But Yeosang didn’t know who he could turn to. Was there a handbook on what to do when you rejected one best friend and then were rejected by another?
Through his haze he finally thought of a name. San, he needed to call San.
He fumbled along the ground for his phone, vision hazy and clouded by tears, finally slapping his knuckles against it and scrambling to pick it up. Through his fuzzy vision he scrolled to where San’s number should be in his contacts list and pressed call.
The phone rang three times before he heard the click of someone picking up and scrambled to speak before they could get a word out.
“I need your help. I don’t know who else to turn to. Please come.”
~*~
Yeosang’s sobs had finally reduced to sniffles around 20 minutes after calling San. He hoped the other was on his way, he hadn’t even allowed the other a chance to respond before his shaky hand lost grip on his phone. He didn’t even know if he ever ended the call or the other just had to listen to his sobs.
As his sobs retreated he had pulled himself across the room to lean his back against the side of his bed. His head ached and his eyes burned. He needed to get up and get water and be ready to let San in.
What was he even going to say to San when he arrived? ‘Hey I know you probably hate me right now because I broke Yunho’s heart but Wooyoung just broke mine and I really need someone.’ He was sure San was already exhausted from taking care of Yunho. He should have called someone else. But there was no one else to call. He needed empathy and a voice of reason. Seonghwa would be on Wooyoung’s side. Hongjoong was good at advice but bad at comfort. Mingi was good for cuddles but not for speaking. Jongho was more of a silent distant comfort. San. It had to be San.
He wished it could be Yunho, but that was a selfish wish. He began to wonder if he’d acted too hastily. All he felt with Wooyoung was pain. He knew the love was still there, but all it brought him was a squeezing, suffocating feeling in his chest and stomach. With Yunho… maybe it wasn’t love yet but it was nice. Soft embarrassment and butterflies in his stomach. It had never been like that with Wooyoung. With Wooyoung it had always been intense. Intense love, intense longing, intense pain. Maybe with Yunho he could have had a different kind of love. One that was less painful. Wasn’t love supposed to be freeing? Loving Wooyoung just made him feel trapped in a cage.
His musings were interrupted by the sound of the door code being inputted. Yeosang tensed. Wooyoung was back already?
“Yeosang?” came a gentle call.
Except the voice wasn’t Wooyoung. It wasn’t San either. San didn’t have their door code anyways.
There was only one person it could be. And it was the last person Yeosang expected.
He held his breath as he heard footsteps approach. They paused for a moment before his door handle turned and the door swung open with a gentle creak.
Yunho peered into the dark room curiously, eyes finally settling on the slightly illuminated shape of Yeosang sitting against his bed and hugging his knees.
“Yunho,” Yeosang finally breathed out, eyes wide in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“You called me,” the other responded just as softly. A weird atmosphere settled between the two and neither seemed inclined to break it.
“I didn’t call you, I called San.”
Yeosang watched as Yunho’s smile tensed.
“I can leave, but let me call San first if he’s the one you want. I don’t want to leave you alone when clearly something happened. You don’t have to tell me about it.”
Typical Yunho. Sweet, caring Yunho. Yeosang didn’t deserve him.
“Wait!” the soft cry immediately left his lips as Yunho turned to go back down the hallway. Yunho paused, turning back to him. Yeosang chewed on his bottom lip anxiously before deciding to speak again. “I… I wanted you. I just knew I shouldn’t, so I tried to call San but…”
Yunho gave him a gentle but still slightly tense smile.
“You can always call me, Sangie. I know I asked for space but if it’s important, I’m here for you. And it sounded really important on the phone.”
Yeosang took a deep breath, feeling the tears prickle at his eyes again. He let his head fall back against the bed with a soft thud.
“I fucked up,” he chuckled wetly. His eyes darted away from Yunho. “Majorly. Why am I like this, Yun? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” said Yunho, entering the room slowly. He moved towards Yeosang before sitting on the floor across from him, crosslegged.
“I can’t deal with things like a normal person. And because of that I just… threw away everything we had done. I used you, and then as soon as I was done I went right back to my old habits. My stupid, soul-sucking habits. God, Yunho, I barely even walked in the door coming home from your place and I immediately threw myself at him. I know that all he will do is hurt me but even now I want him. What does that make me?” Yeosang’s voice broke with his last sentence, the first tear breaking free.
“Human,” said Yunho quietly. He was… calm. There was no trace of pain or sadness on his face. Only quiet contemplation. “You aren’t wrong for seeking comfort or acting on your desires. Sure, you seek comfort in a different way than others but that doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you. That’s just one of the ways you’re special. It’s in our nature to want to be selfish in times of need. There’s nothing wrong with it, and sometimes people need to be selfish.”
“You’re not selfish,” Yeosang whispered through heavy breaths. “You’re never selfish.”
“I’m being selfish right now.”
“How?”
“By even being here. I’m selfishly thinking about how much I want to comfort you, however you need to be comforted. Selfishly thinking ‘does it have to be him?’”
Yeosang took a shaky breath, looking at Yunho’s blurred figure through watery vision. For the first time ever Yunho seemed… almost angry. There was a strange fire in his eyes. Yunho opened his mouth once more.
“I’m selfishly thinking how much I want to kiss you right now. How much I want to comfort you even if it only ends up hurting you later.”
“I,” Yeosang hiccuped. “I don’t… w-want to h-hurt you.”
“I thought a lot last night. About you, about me, about what happened between us. And I decided I don’t want space. I don’t care if you don’t love me, Yeosang. You can use me to your heart’s content, I just want to make you happy. Even if you don’t have feelings for me.”
“I,” Yeosang took in a shaky breath, trying to will his tears not to fall. “I don’t… everything is so easy with you.”
He took a pause, trying to calm him sobs through deep breaths.
“I don’t know what I feel anymore. Wooyoung is just a constant blur of bliss and pain but with you… there was innocence. Butterflies. You made me shy. Things you’re supposed to feel when falling in love. I never had that with Wooyoung.”
With Wooyoung it was always fire. A burning, scorching heat. Yeosang felt too much in both the best and worst ways.
But with Yunho he felt comfortable. Wasn’t love supposed to be comfortable?
“I don’t know what I feel anymore. But I want to get away from here. Away from this. I don’t want to feel used and unloved anymore,” Yeosang finally said, wiping his tears dejectedly.
Yunho nodded before standing up. “Let’s get your stuff,” he said, holding out his hand to help Yeosang off the ground.
Yeosang took it, allowing Yunho to pull him up. However, in his dehydrated state Yeosang immediately got dizzy, stumbling on his feet and falling toward Yunho, who caught him with ease.
“Let me get you some water,” he said, guiding Yeosang to sit on the bed. “Wait here.”
Yeosang looked around his room as he heard Yunho moving around in the kitchen.
He hoped he was making the right choice. But Wooyoung didn’t love him. He needed to get away. He’d confessed and been rejected and that was that. There was no going back.
Yunho returned with a large glass of room temperature water, which Yeosang crinkled his nose at. Yunho rolled his eyes.
“If you drink it cold you’ll get a stomach ache,” he said. Stupid Yunho, always looking out for him. He finally took the glass from the taller before he started gulping it down, realizing how thirsty he was. Yunho moved around the room, collecting his travel bag and beginning to throw essentials inside. Yeosang didn’t say anything, letting Yunho choose what to bring. The scene was all too familiar, Yeosang thinking back to that fateful day when he’d finally broken. When everything started to go downhill. When Yunho finished, he closed up the bag, picking it up and holding his hand out to Yeosang.
Yeosang only hesitated for a second before taking it and allowing Yunho to pull him up once again.
“Let’s go.”
Yeosang took one last glance at his room before allowing Yunho to lead him away.
Their escape was short lived, a feeling of dread settling deep in Yeosang’s stomach as they entered the living room and Yeosang heard the sound of the door. The two froze as the door swung open quickly, Wooyoung stepping inside.
The two remained frozen as Wooyoung shut the door behind him without looking up, toeing off his shoes as he carefully held onto a… bouquet of flowers?
Finally, Wooyoung looked up, spotting them and freezing in the doorway.
There was a tense moment of silence as the three stared at each other.
“Yeosang?” asked Wooyoung softly. “What’s going on?”
“I…” Yeosang started, not knowing where to begin. His eyes were stuck on the flowers in Wooyoung’s hands. What was his plan? Did he think everything would be forgiven with a gift?
Meanwhile, Wooyoung’s eyes shifted to Yunho and down to the bag in his hands. His gaze darkened.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked icily.
“Wooyoung, I just… I need-“
Wooyoung cut him off.
“No. You don’t get to do this again,” said Wooyoung, finally marching into the apartment properly. He placed the flowers on the table before harshly taking off his jacket. “You don’t get to tell me you love me again only to take off with him. I let it happen last time and it was a mistake.”
“L-last time?” asked Yeosang, brain panicking as he tried to recall what Wooyoung was talking about.
“You told me you loved me before, Yeosang. And then you disappeared, and when you came back you were with him,” Wooyoung said angrily. Yeosang’s anger flashed in return.
“Stop talking about Yunho like that,” he hissed.
“Yeosang, it’s ok,” said Yunho softly, squeezing Yeosang’s hand.
“No, it’s not. You’re his friend,” he said to Yunho before looking at Wooyoung again. “You don’t get to talk like that, and you don’t get to be mad about this. You can’t fix this with some flowers and expect me to go right back to being your toy. It’s over, Wooyoung, find someone else to play with.”
“Toy? Is that what you think this is?” asked Wooyoung in disbelief. “You really think you’re just some kind of throwaway toy to me? I love you, you stupid idiot!”
Yeosang froze at Wooyoung’s outburst, all anger leaving his body and being replaced by ice. What on earth was Wooyoung saying?
“D-don’t lie to me,” he said, gripping Yunho’s hand harder. “You can’t just say that to keep me here.”
“I’m not!” said Wooyoung desperately. “I’ve loved you for years.”
“Then why did you never say anything?” shouted Yeosang, getting angry again. “Why did you date other people? You say you love me but you’ve never acted like it!”
“How was I supposed to act? I thought you didn’t love me!”
Yeosang stared at him in silent disbelief for a moment. “Are you kidding me? You’re an idiot, Jung Wooyoung. I can’t deal with this right now. Let’s go, Yunho.”
He moved toward the door, trying to tug Yunho with him.
“Yeosang,” began the other tentatively, chancing a glance at Wooyoung.
“No. You said you’re being selfish today. I need you to be selfish.”
Yunho shut his mouth tightly, studying Yeosang’s face before finally giving a nod. Yeosang turned to Wooyoung one last time.
“I need to think, and I can’t do it around you,” he said. “I just… need to wrap my head around this. You hurt me, Wooyoung. A lot. I don’t know what I want from you anymore.”
Wooyoung couldn’t meet his eyes. He gave a jerky nod as he gazed at the floor.
“Let’s go,” Yeosang said again to Yunho. He finally tugged him toward the door and out into the night, leaving Wooyoung behind.
~*~
Two days later, Yeosang wasn’t any closer to making up his mind.
The entire car ride to Yunho’s had been filled with his mind reeling at the same speed as the car. He had too much to think about. Everything Wooyoung had said, everything Yunho had said.
The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to use Yunho. He wouldn’t use Yunho. Yunho said it was okay but Yeosang knew from experience that it wasn’t. The words Yunho had said were the same ones Yeosang had repeated to himself like a mantra. The words that eventually tore him apart. He only hoped he was strong enough to keep his resolve.
He was determined to keep his resolve, but still somehow found himself in his favourite position atop Yunho’s chest, the other’s large hand running up and down his spine.
“Hey, Yun?” he said quietly.
Yunho only hummed in response, eyes still focused on the tv.
“Why do you like me?”
Yunho froze, and for a moment Yeosang regretted asking. He didn’t really know what spawned the thought. Maybe because he still couldn’t believe Wooyoung’s words when he said he loved him back, he wanted to hear it from someone else.
His regret dissipated as soon as Yunho opened his mouth.
“Because you’re you. There doesn’t need to be any special reason.”
It was simple and to the point.
“I think trying to pinpoint a reason is really unfair. No one trait is unique to a single person, but the combination of your traits is unique to you, and I have to love all of them to love you, the good and the bad,” Yunho continued.
Yeosang felt his eyes grow misty. He knew Yunho was looking down at him, but kept his gaze on the tv, fisting a hand into Yunho’s shirt.
He felt Yunho’s hand move from his back to reach around him and pry his fingers out of his shirt, instead threading their hands together.
Yeosang looked at their joined hands. They fit nicely; Yunho’s hand was slightly larger than his own but not too large. He willed his heart to flutter. Every time Wooyoung held his hand it was like electricity was jolting through his body. So, what was different about Yunho?
Yeosang sighed internally, squeezing Yunho’s hand a little harder. He knew Yunho felt it as the first tear fell from his eye and landed on the other’s chest.
Yunho squeezed his hand in return, leaving the quiet sounds of their movie to fill the silence.
~*~
Yeosang knew what he was doing was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Wooyoung for him to run away.
Wooyoung had hurt him, but he had hurt the other in return.
He was angry at Wooyoung, but mostly he just missed him. Missed his smile, missed how loud he was, missed the way he would cook for Yeosang just because he wanted to, how he would latch onto Yeosang and cuddle him even when he protested. He missed his friend.
He had turned off his phone when he left, knowing Wooyoung would incessantly call and text. Wooyoung was the kind of person who needed to talk things out immediately, but Yeosang needed time to think. Time to breathe. He knew that Yunho had been texting Wooyoung, and somehow that both eased and worsened his guilt.
Yunho, sweet Yunho. The other boy was far too patient with Yeosang. He would cuddle him if Yeosang asked, or leave him alone if that’s what he wanted. He’d listen if Yeosang wanted to talk, or talk if Yeosang wanted to listen.
Yunho never asked for anything in return, and that only made Yeosang’s guilt worsen. He knew, logically, that he didn’t owe Yunho anything. They were friends, and Yunho would never ask for anything either. Friendship wasn’t a transaction.
He tried to figure out why he couldn’t love Yunho instead. Why he loved Wooyoung. Maybe that was what had led him to ask Yunho why he liked him, but the other’s answer both made everything clearer and more confusing.
He loved Wooyoung because he was Wooyoung. Because the combination of traits inside of him was so incredibly Wooyoung. But Yeosang also loved everything that made Yunho Yunho, so why was it different?
Yeosang was no closer to figuring anything out when a few days later San burst into the apartment with a bag of soju, insisting the four of them do something fun to ease the weird cloud of tension that had been hanging over them.
Yeosang knew it was probably not a good idea, but he felt bad for San and Mingi. The two of them had been put into the middle of everything when they didn’t deserve it. They were nothing but nice to Yeosang despite the fact that they had every right to hate him for what he had done and was still doing to Yunho.
Yeosang was pleasantly buzzed after his first bottle, and well on his way to drunk halfway through the second. They had decided to play drinking games, sitting in a circle on the floor. Yeosang giggled as he leaned away from San, who had his arms around his shoulders and was making a kissy face at him. Mingi held San by the waist, pouting at his boyfriend. Yunho was laughing loudly, leaning over as he slapped his palm on the floor.
They had been playing truth or dare, Yunho’s “truth” question being who San wanted to kiss the most out of everyone in their friend group, prompting the drunk boy to shout Yeosang’s name and immediately throw his arms around him and attempt to kiss his cheek.
“Ok, ok that’s enough,” said Yunho through his giggles. San pouted as he finally relented and allowed his boyfriend to pull him away. “It’s your turn, Sannie.”
“Fine,” he said. “Yeosangie, truth or dare.”
Yeosang wasn’t sure he liked the twinkle in San’s eye. If he picked dare, surely San was going to ask him for a kiss, so he went with the safer option.
“Truth.”
“All right you kinky bastard, what’s your most embarrassing kink?”
It wasn’t safer. Yeosang felt as his entire face heated up, sure it was red far beyond a level he could blame on alcohol as he let out a whine.
“Why does it have to be that?”
“I could give you a dare instead,” said San, a devilish grin on his face. Yeosang could already tell that the dare would be much worse. This was the lesser of two evils.
“Come on, San, isn’t that going a little too far? He-“ Yunho cut himself off as Yeosang grabbed his soju bottle and downed the last half in one go, slamming it back onto the table.
“I have a kitten kink! I like to wear ears and be called kitten, okay?!” Yeosang shouted before burying his face in his hands, sure steam was coming out of his ears.
San let out a shriek at a dolphin-like frequency, falling backwards on top of Mingi. Yeosang heard a choking sound, but he couldn’t tell if it came from Yunho or Mingi, and he was sure whoever was left was likely frozen in shock or disgust.
“Do you,” San struggled to get out his words through his laughter. “Do you meow too?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” Yeosang whined, feeling his eyes burn. He knew San didn’t mean any harm, he was just drunk and teasing him, but in his own drunken state he couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt.
“Shut up, San,” came Yunho’s steady voice. “Don’t be mean.”
San’s giggles immediately quieted as he noticed Yeosang sitting with his head down. Yeosang watched out of the corner of his eye as San scooted closer to him and laid a gentle hand atop his head.
“Yeosangie,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, baby. You know that’s it’s perfectly valid, right? I’d never judge you for something like that.”
Yeosang gave a slight nod as San’s hand began running through his hair. He knew San had just been messing around and wasn’t really that upset, now he was just embarrassed for darkening the mood.
“I know, Sannie. Thank you,” he said softly. “Sorry for ruining the mood.”
“No, sweetie, it was my fault,” San cooed. Then he leaned toward Yeosang as the other looked up at him, eyes glinting conspiratorially. “Besides,” he whispered. “We needed to stop that game before you gave Yunho too much material for his spank bank!”
San’s cackle was cut off as he was hit square in the face with a pillow, disappearing from Yeosang’s sight before he even felt his blush finish rising.
“I said stop being mean!” said Yunho. By this time, Yeosang had brought his hands up to cover his face, too embarrassed to look Yunho in the eye.
He also couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Would Yunho… be into something like that? He’d always assumed people like him and Wooyoung were rare. But was it possible one of their own friends was the same? Truthfully, Yeosang had never really thought of anyone besides Wooyoung in a sexual way. He’d never even done anything sexual with anyone else. He’d never even kissed anyone else, unless you counted his desperate and clumsy attempt at kissing Yunho a few nights ago. That had been nice once Yunho took control.
Would other things be nice, too? Now that Yeosang thought about it, Yunho was… big. Yeosang could feel his dick pressed up against him when they cuddled and watched movies. He had just never cared to think about it.
If he… found someone else. Would things be different? Would he still love Wooyoung?
A few days ago, he might have jumped at the chance. Anything to rid himself of his feelings. But he didn’t want to get rid of them anymore, he wanted to understand them.
Would… allowing himself to have new experiences help him understand himself? The rational part of his brain said this was a bad idea, but the part that was fogged by alcohol was giving him different signals.
He peeked out of his fingers to glance at Yunho. He, San, and Mingi were engaged in a playful fight, Yunho clearly winning as Mingi just tried to hold his boyfriend back.
No, Yeosang couldn’t do that to his friend.
Finally, Mingi grabbed San by the waist and hauled him up off the floor.
“I think it’s time to sleep,” he said as San pouted.
“Yeosangie~” San said, face breaking into a smile. “Come sleep with me!”
“Yah! Where will I sleep then?” asked Mingi.
“The couch,” responded San, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend. “I wanna cuddle with Yeosang.”
“Why don’t you go get ready first and I’ll come in a bit?” said Yeosang, giving Mingi a pointed look. Luckily, Mingi immediately understood. San would forget about Yeosang once he was out of sight.
“Ok!” San hurriedly agreed. Then he grabbed Mingi and practically dragged him toward their room, loudly talking nonsense.
Yunho let out an exasperated chuckle, shaking his head. Then he turned to Yeosang, eyeing the pile of bottles between them.
“There’s still some left, should we finish it?” he asked carefully. Yeosang gave a nod.
The air between them was… strange, but not in a bad way.
They sat down next to each other on the floor, Yunho unscrewing the cap on a bottle of soju and handing it to Yeosang before grabbing one for himself.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
Yeosang took a big swig from his soju bottle, coughing a little at the burn.
“What do you mean?”
Yunho rolled his eyes. “Don’t avoid the question. You know what I mean.”
Yeosang sighed.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to answer the question,” said Yunho, placing his bottle back on the floor before turning toward Yeosang. He’d barely taken one drink.
Yeosang looked back down at his own bottle. He knew he could talk to Yunho. He could always talk to Yunho.
“I feel like it’s rude to say not well,” he said before taking another drink. “I know I’m being dramatic, but so much went wrong between us that I can’t help but feel…”
“Feel what?” asked Yunho after a moment of silence.
“What if we aren’t meant to be?” whispered Yeosang. “What if that was it? What if everything is over now? Can we even go back to being friends?”
“Do you want to go back to being friends?”
“I’d rather just be friends than lose him.”
“You still love him,” said Yunho softly. Yeosang finally looked up at him. He tried to swallow down his guilt seeing the other look so sad.
“I think I always will. But what if that’s not enough? And what if… what if I don’t love him how I think I do? I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“Do you want to be with someone else?”
“I… don’t know. I just want to know that this is right. That it’s all worth it. That I’m not just going to get hurt again.”
“No one can know that. It sucks, being so uncertain, but if you trust each other then that uncertainty will disappear.”
“I trust Wooyoung. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life. He is my entire life. And I think that’s what scares me the most. I trust him, but he could so easily break that trust. He’s all I’ve ever known; I don’t know what I’d do without him. I can’t lose him. If he did hurt me again, I wouldn’t have the strength to leave.”
Yunho was silent, taking in his words. He’d never told any of their friends the true extent of his feelings for Wooyoung. Even Wooyoung didn’t know. No one knew the real reason that Yeosang’s family moved to Seoul when he was fifteen. Wooyoung had no idea that he’d pulled him out of the darkest point in his life. Yeosang had had no friends, he’d barely even had a family.
“I can’t tell you what to feel, or what would be best for the two of you. But I can tell you that Wooyoung loves you just as much as you love him. He’s never told me, I think because he knew the way I felt, but I could see it.”
Yeosang was silent for a moment, taking in Yunho’s words. He knew Yunho would never lie to him.
“I think,” Yunho continued quietly. “You need to go back and talk to him.”
“Will he even want to talk to me? I hurt him, too.”
“He will. He texts every day. I don’t think he’s even left the house in case you decided to come home.”
Yeosang looked down at the floor, giving a jerky nod.
Yunho was right. Every question he didn’t have an answer to involved Wooyoung. Maybe the only way he could figure anything out was if he was with the other. Running away wasn’t going to solve his problem. But still, there was one more thing he had to do to be sure.
“I think you’re right. I don’t know if I’m ready, but I don’t think I can figure this out on my own.”
“I’m here for you, Sang. Whatever you decide.”
Yeosang looked down at his soju bottle, fidgeting with it for a minute before taking a big swig.
“Can I ask you one favour?”
“Of course.”
Yeosang looked up at Yunho through his lashes, face still angled toward the ground. Then he took another big drink before he crawled forward. Yunho watched him but didn’t move away.
Yeosang leaned up, his face inches away from Yunho’s. The other stared down at him with a dark look.
“Kiss me?” Yeosang whispered.
Without a moment’s hesitation Yunho surged forward and connected their lips.
There was more urgency in this kiss than the last time. Perhaps it was the alcohol flooding through the both of them, but Yunho kissed him with a different sort of hunger. Yeosang immediately became putty against him, letting Yunho completely take the lead as his hands reached up to wrap around his waist.
Yeosang let Yunho tug him towards his chest, crawling forward and disconnecting their lips for only a moment to climb into his lap.
Yunho groaned as they reconnected and Yeosang dropped his weight into his lap. The angle was awkward, Yunho sitting cross-legged in the floor as Yeosang attempted to straddle him, but neither of them cared. Yunho’s hands gripped his hips as Yeosang’s hands tangled in his soft brown hair.
Kissing Yunho felt different than last time. Perhaps because this time he was more certain he wanted it. He wasn’t thinking about or comparing it to Wooyoung. Rather than something unknown, it felt like closure. And Yunho seemed to know it too.
The kiss slowed down after a while, Yunho’s grip loosening until his thumbs gently swiped across Yeosang’s skin, Yeosang’s arms dropping to rest gently on Yunho’s shoulders. The two breathed heavily in between slower, softer kisses.
“I love you,” whispered Yunho when they parted, hot breath brushing Yeosang’s face.
“I know,” Yeosang whispered back. It seemed cliché, but it was the only appropriate answer. He loved Yunho too, but not in the same way.
“That’s all I ask,” Yunho continued, slowly pulling his face away. “If he hurts you again, just remember that. Even if you don’t have the strength to leave, know that I’ll take you away.”
Yeosang smiled softly.
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good,” Yunho said, pecking Yeosang on the lips one last time. “Let’s go to bed.”
Yeosang hummed in response, climbing off of Yunho’s lap and stretching. He turned to the pile of blankets on the couch that served as his bed with a frown.
“Sleep in my bed,” came Yunho’s voice, as if he could read Yeosang’s thoughts. A warm hand wrapped around Yeosang’s and tugged. Yeosang smiled.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d slept in Yunho’s bed; the larger boy was perfect for warmth and cuddling. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last, no matter how the situation with Wooyoung turned out.