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It's midnight.
Jiseok only knows this because it's impossible not to. Phone screen alight with incoming notifications, night sky alight with technicolor blooms, the air itself alight with the spark of a million separate celebrations converging into one. There have been fireworks going off intermittently all evening, but the sudden intensity spells it out loud and clear — the world has tipped into a new beginning.
Normally, Jiseok would be out there celebrating, too. He would be soaking in the energy of it all, getting drunk at some party or freezing his ass off to watch the light show.
But this time — this time is different.
This time, he's chosen to welcome the new year in a makeshift nest of blankets and pillows with only his best friend by his side.
They're on Jiseok's bed, sitting by the window with Jiseok's feet in Jooyeon's lap while Jooyeon's head rests on Jiseok's shoulders. There's only so much that can be seen through from their tiny second floor apartment, and their shared playlist is playing at a volume that's tame enough that they can feel the bass thrum of a party a couple apartments down, but Jiseok finds he doesn't really mind. This low-key vibe is just weird enough to be weirdly comfortable.
Maybe that's just a matter of course where Jooyeon is concerned. He's a weirdo, but it's with him that Jiseok feels most relaxed.
Even when he's doing something incomprehensible. Such as holding his champagne flute up at eye level so he can watch the fireworks through the glass and its contents, letting out a little whoa before he says, "This must be how pet fish feel in their little bowls."
And Jiseok would question it, but when the two of them have been practically surgically attached at the hip since birth, there's little Jooyeon could say or do that can faze him anymore.
As his best friend, though, he's obligated to give him a hard time. He raises an eyebrow. "Is there a single normal thought in that head of yours?"
Jooyeon fucking giggles. "When have we ever been normal in this household?"
Jiseok is pretty sure that shouldn't be endearing when it's coming from a grown man, but. He'll blame that on the alcohol. Sparkling wine is nowhere near enough to get him proper drunk, but between the two of them they've already nearly emptied one bottle, and Jiseok is starting to feel it. That pleasant buzz weighing his limbs down, spreading warmth through his chest, making it hard not to giggle right back at the comedic distortion of Jooyeon's face through the glass.
True to his lightweight ways, Jooyeon must definitely be feeling it. When he pushes his glass into Jiseok's face instead, the movement is noticeably languid. "For real, though. Take a look and tell me I'm wrong."
He… kind of isn't. The bright colors reflect and refract through the bubbles like the lights of an aquarium; going from golden to magenta to an ultramarine blue. When Jiseok closes one eye, he can almost imagine the flickering halo that sticks to the sides of the flute to be the flutter of seaweed in his peripheral, and the carbonation — the result of a water filter pumping away.
Jiseok could never tell if these glasses can really be called champagne flutes. They'd bought a pair for cheap back in their first year of being legally allowed to drink, but they've always just looked more like weird skinny wine glasses. Maybe they were miniature fish tanks all along.
It's weirdly quite soothing, so that makes a weird amount of sense to Jiseok's less than sober mind — although the peaceful illusion of being underwater doesn't quite hold up with the booming noise of explosions in the background.
Jiseok pulls back from the glass with as theatrical a sigh as he can manage under these circumstances. "What has my life come to? I'm starting the new year pretending to be a goldfish."
"That's the Jooyeon experience, baby," Jooyeon says, shamelessly failing to land a wink. "Can't get it anywhere else."
"Yeah, probably for the best," Jiseok snorts. "Remind me again why I chose to stay home with you tonight?"
Honestly, there's no real reason as to why. It's just that Jooyeon has never really liked being surrounded by hordes of inebriated strangers, and Jiseok thinks somewhere along the line he may have grown to feel the same. The whole thing: the crowds, the noise, the body heat. He's over it.
Maybe that makes him an old man when he's barely in his early twenties, but maybe that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
Judging by the big ol' goofy grin on his face, Jooyeon certainly seems to be a fan of this new leaf he's turned.
"Because you loooove me."
It only takes one sip of bubbly for Jiseok to swallow down the butterflies that soar up into his throat at the accusation.
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"Wow. Five minutes into the new year and you're already breaking my heart."
"Deserved."
Normally, Jiseok has the dubious honor of being the drama queen of this relationship, but just like a dog that's learned to ask for treats, Jooyeon has learned exactly how to use his puppy eyes when Jiseok is withholding affection.
"So that's it for our lifelong friendship, then," he whines, "even though I still love you so much."
It's super effective.
Not that Jiseok will ever admit it.
"I'm just joking, you big baby," he says instead, snickering. "I swear the only part of you that's grown in all this time is your hair."
"Well," Jooyeon wiggles his eyebrows. "There is one other thing I can think of—"
"Ew." Jiseok scrunches his nose in exaggerated disgust.
"—which is my height, obviously." Six front teeth come out in a grin so obnoxious it makes Jiseok's toes twitch with the urge to kick it right off his face. "What were you thinking?"
It's a stroke of fortune that fireworks paint the sky bright pink at that exact moment, Jiseok thinks. He retrieves his foot from Jooyeon's lap and plants it right into his kneecap, not quite hard enough to hurt him but enough to at least jostle him a bit. "You're the absolute worst, oh my god."
"Yeah?" Jooyeon cackles, bright and clear and happy. "Here's to one more year of me being your worst best friend, then."
He raises his strange abomination of a glass once again. Jiseok looks at it for a second — as if he has to think about it, as if he has a choice, as if his reason could ever win against his instinct where this boy is involved — but finally, he lets his flute meet Jooyeon's.
"I can endure your dumb ass for one more year, I guess."
The clink resounds loud into his ear, louder than the fireworks outside. Loud as a vow.
Jooyeon's smile softens into something that looks like a heart. As if he's read Jiseok's mind, he says, "Too bad, 'cause you're stuck with my dumb ass till death do us part."
Jiseok fucking chokes on his drink. It's a good thing the sparkling wine has started to lose its sparkle after staying open so long, so instead of a shot of carbonated misery right up his nose, he just gets flat, warm alcohol with a hint of lime and lemon clinging to it. (They may or may not have been mainly using these glasses outside of their intended purpose. Mainly for soda.)
Jooyeon is quick to pat Jiseok on the back until his coughing fit subsides, and Jiseok has to wipe tears out of his eyes before he croaks out: "When, pray tell, did we get married?"
Jooyeon doesn't miss a beat. Almost as if he'd been waiting for Jiseok to say that. "I'll marry you right now," he declares, easy as anything, and takes Jiseok's hand in his own. "Kwak Jiseok, do you take this man to be the thorn in your side for as long as you shall live?"
It's a joke. Obviously. It's not even half as bad as some of the disgustingly public displays of affection they've shared over the years, those things that make even actual couples cringe. Even so, Jiseok can tell. If he goes along with it, tonight will be a new beginning for more than just the year.
"I don't see any men around here, though? Only a manchild."
Jooyeon snorts. "So prickly on our wedding day, Seok."
Jiseok can recognize it, but he can't really stop it. He's just one man and he's up against a force that's much stronger than him.
"You sure you can handle me and my thorns for as long as you shall live, Jooyeonie?"
At that, that heart-shaped grin amps the wattage up so high it becomes blinding, so Jiseok has to find something else to look at. The bridge of his best friend's nose. His strong eyebrows. The mole on his right eyelid.
"Wouldn't want you any other way, baby boy."
Fuck.
"Then," Jiseok says slowly, "I suppose I do."
Jooyeon's gentle grip around Jiseok's hand tightens just a little bit. His other hand comes up to cradle Jiseok's cheek. It's slightly sweaty, Jiseok realizes, but his own hands are sweating too.
"Now I should… kiss the bride, right?"
Jiseok doesn't pull away when Jooyeon's face starts inching towards him. "You're drunk, Joo."
Jooyeon doesn't stop either, even though he says, "Yeah."
He isn't, though, not really. He's tipsy, cheeks rosy with it, but in his gaze Jiseok finds a different kind of intoxication. And in his touch — he finds something like reverence.
"I am, too," Jiseok lies. Jooyeon's thumb strokes gently at the puffy skin below his eye, and Jiseok feels his eyelashes curl against it when he lets his own eyes fall closed and welcomes the inevitable.
Because, truly — it has been a long time coming.
And that's exactly how it feels when it finally happens. Belated, awaited. Catching fire and exploding like the fireworks that have completely faded into the background.
What starts as a soft, almost hesitant press of lips on lips takes only a second to deepen, Jiseok's fingers winding into Jooyeon's long hair as Jooyeon's tongue snakes into his mouth like that's where it belongs. And it's hot. It's so fucking hot.
It's the kind of kiss that steals your breath away and makes your knees weak, melts you down to the very marrow of your bones. Jiseok is thankful for the solid support of the bed beneath him, because he can feel his legs turn to jelly one pleased sigh at a time. His teeth catch on Jooyeon's bottom lip, and Jooyeon makes this noise and hauls Jiseok's leg up around his hip, and fuck.
Jiseok is a goner.
He wants. He wants so badly that his blood burns with it. He wants to climb into Jooyeon's lap, kiss his heart-shaped mouth until it's red and swollen, say all those things that he's kept locked out of sight for the longest time. He wishes he was drunk enough to do that. He wishes Jooyeon didn't know how well he holds his liquor. He wishes he could be honest without being wasted.
But he isn't, and he can't, so Jooyeon will simply have to make do with what he is. Which, at the moment, is the kind of docile, pliant creature that doesn't protest at being gently pushed until he's fully lying back inside the blanket nest while Jooyeon looms over him.
The position itself isn't necessarily a new one. The implications of it are. There have been plenty of occasions over the years that have landed them on top of one another, and they've all involved laughter or comfort. Never heavy-lidded eyes and an almost predatory hunger behind a curtain of long lashes, bruised lips and shallow breath.
Jiseok is powerless to stop the delighted shiver that quakes through his spine. But he still has control over his big mouth, at least. "You know, something tells me this isn't the kind of kiss a freshly married couple is supposed to share in front of all the guests."
"But it is appropriate for the wedding night," Jooyeon retorts with a breathy laugh. He's still holding Jiseok's hand, but now he pins that to the bed as well, fitting his palm over it and letting his fingers slide into the gaps between Jiseok's. "And I already have you right where I want you — in my bed."
"Technically, it's my bed," Jiseok deadpans.
Jooyeon's grin turns sharp. "Missing the point, honey."
Jiseok hums, doing his utmost to act nonchalant. Like his heart isn't trying to crawl out of his throat right at this very moment. "I should've taken you for a ride before giving you my hand in marriage." His free hand crawls up Jooyeon's back, settling over his nape this time. "What if you disappoint now, hm?"
Jooyeon easily lets that soft pressure pull him down, closer, until Jiseok can feel his body heat hovering above him. "I have a pretty good idea what you like, trust me."
"Do you?" Jiseok questions, breath catching when he feels lips on his throat.
"These walls are thin," Jooyeon mutters into his skin, "and you, my dear, are a screamer."
"Oh my god." If Jiseok thought his cheeks already felt warm, now they feel like they're about to explode. "I want a divorce."
"Already?" Jooyeon's laugh feels ticklish over his collarbones, but Jiseok feels the itch somewhere deeper, located center-left beneath the flesh and bone of his chest. "Should try me on for size first!"
Jiseok knows exactly what it is. The ugly frustration that led to the many meaningless relationships he's had over the years, the sticky guilt he'd feel after, and the way the process would start anew whenever he'd hear that same kind of noise coming from Jooyeon's room. A stupid, self-defeating cycle that he hates himself for never being brave enough to end.
"And you should stop talking before my dick loses interest," he says, then shuts Jooyeon up himself with his lips.
His dick most definitely doesn't lose interest, though. Jooyeon's tongue down Jiseok's throat makes it very hard for that to happen, and so do the roaming hands that find their way inside his clothes and, later, inside of his body. By the time Jiseok is fully undressed and loose enough for Jooyeon's liking (as far as Jiseok is concerned, he was ready after the first finger but then Jooyeon kept on going until he had him taking three), his dick is so fucking interested it hurts.
Truthfully, seeing each other naked is something that naturally comes with being childhood friends, so this is far from their first time. But context really does matter with these things. Seeing each other hard and dripping and flushed all the way down to their chests is a whole different experience, Jiseok finds; one that makes heat spread like wildfire in his belly and sets off an animalistic kind of desperation to be as close to his best friend as two people can be.
And maybe if they were more sober, condoms wouldn't go forgotten. Maybe if they were more sober, they would both recognize the necessity of that final barrier between their bodies. Neither of them is drunk, and the alcohol is loosening its hold on them further by the second, but it's still present enough to have them diving headfirst into the deep end.
Because they were already past the point of no return, but this — the feeling of Jooyeon sliding inside — that's something Jiseok already knows he'll never recover from. The sensation of smooth skin instead of latex, the heat, the need. The veins pulsing with Jooyeon's frantic heartbeat.
Those butterflies Jiseok had dutifully swallowed down like pills over the years suddenly all come alive in his stomach, in his ribcage, threatening to crack him open and burst out together with his wildly beating heart.
"Did I hurt you?" comes Jooyeon's voice from above. His chest is heaving with the self-restraint it must take not to fuck into Jiseok, and his black hair is sticking to the sweat on his face, and he's fucking beautiful.
When Jiseok only responds with a confused noise, Jooyeon cups around his cheek again. Just like before, he swipes his thumb below his eye, and it's only when Jiseok feels him smearing wetness that he understands what he means. "You're crying."
Jiseok knows he should be ashamed of letting his emotions get in the way of what should all be a drunk mistake, but—
He really doesn't want that. He can't let it end like that.
"No, I'm fine, I just," he sniffs, "I don't want this to be a mistake we both agree to never talk about again in the morning."
"It won't be." Jooyeon kisses the fresh tear that escapes Jiseok's eye away. "It's not."
"How can you be so sure?"
Jooyeon hums. He looks at him with honest eyes and holds Jiseok's hand up to his chest — right above that heart of his that beats in sync with Jiseok's.
"Because I've wanted to do this for so long, Jiseok," he says. He shifts his hips and it drives his cock impossibly deeper, punching a broken noise out of Jiseok and a low moan out of himself. "Drunk or sober, I always want you."
Jiseok's throat goes so tight he thinks he'll actually fucking bawl if he has to say anything in response to that, so he's grateful for it when Jooyeon leans down to kiss him again. He can't dwell on how stupid he's been — how stupid they've both been — when Jooyeon starts moving in earnest, fucking every unnecessary thought out of Jiseok's head until all that's left is warmth and adoration and desire.
His limbs naturally find their way around Jooyeon, clinging, clutching, memorizing. Feeling the way his body moves as he seeks pleasure and gives it in return. It's their first time together but Jooyeon is observant enough not to need instruction, quickly finding that spot he'd earlier discovered with his fingertips and focusing on it until he has Jiseok screaming loud enough that even the apartment throwing a party would probably hear him.
His hands have been all over Jiseok's body too, roaming over his chest, his tummy, his thighs. One eventually settles around his waist, bringing him even closer, skin sticking to skin. The other curls around his cock, and Jiseok jolts into it, throwing his head back to whine in a way that would probably be embarrassing if Jooyeon wasn't smiling down at him like he hung the fucking stars.
"Beautiful, Jiseokie," he breathes, voice discordantly soft compared to the motion of his hips and his wrist. "You're so beautiful. I can't believe you're finally mine."
Jiseok is hanging on by a fucking thread. He wants to preen, he wants to hide, but he doesn't get to do either because it's then that Jooyeon delivers the final blow, whispered directly into his ear.
"I love you."
And Jiseok shatters apart as if on command.
His whole body draws taut, from his head to his toes, and his mouth falls open but he's too overwhelmed to make a single sound when the orgasm crashes over him. He feels like he's floating, and he can't tell if it lasts for a second or half an eternity, but by the time he comes down from it, Jooyeon's face is scrunched up in pleasure and he's gasping as his hips stutter into stillness.
He must've come, too. Inside Jiseok. Left his mark so deep, Jiseok will be feeling it for days. No one else has ever been allowed that privilege, but this time Jiseok wants to remember.
And the crazy part is Jooyeon wants him to remember, too.
The noise of the fireworks outside has dwindled significantly while they weren't paying attention. There's still the occasional flash of color outside, but the aftermath of their impulsive decision is dyed in the pale glow of the moon.
When Jooyeon pulls out, he doesn't hesitate to scoop Jiseok into his arms and hold him tight, uncaring of the mess between them. He looks sated. Happy. Jiseok's.
They should probably talk about it, come clean about all their years of loving each other in secret, but right now, there is only one thing Jiseok wants to make sure of.
Tentatively, he says, "Joo?"
"Yeah?"
Jooyeon's face is so openly loving it almost makes Jiseok want to shy away, but he has to ask. No more uncertainty.
"Will this change things? Us?"
Jooyeon closes his eyes as he thinks. "I don't think so," he concludes. "Do you feel any different?"
Jiseok doesn't. It doesn't feel awkward to be in Jooyeon's arms, to know he could kiss him if he wanted, to feel the lingering ache of him inside his body. To be loved by him on a level beyond just their lifelong friendship. It only feels right.
He shakes his head. "Not really."
"I don't, either." Jooyeon beams, smile starting to look sleepy around the edges. "And if you don't and I don't, then that means we're the same us, right? We just… unlocked a new DLC to our relationship."
Jiseok snorts. "What, boyfriend DLC?"
Jooyeon hums and cracks one eye open. "Husband DLC."
Once again, Jiseok's cheeks feel warm. "Get me a ring first, then we'll talk."
"Oh, I will," Jooyeon softly chuckles, then pulls Jiseok tighter against his chest.
Listening to his heartbeat slow into its sleeping pace, it feels like a promise.