Chapter Text
beomgyu will never go to a party again.
that’s a lie, or at least an exaggeration, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and beomgyu’s feeling pretty desperate right now.
taehyun’s thumb starts circling over beomgyu’s hip bone as though he can sense his racing thoughts, causing tingling warmth to spread further out from where taehyun’s hand rests on beomgyu’s side. casual as ever, taehyun’s talking all the while to yeosang, who had waved beomgyu over to join the conversation a few minutes ago with a characteristically sweet smile. taehyun had been in the middle of speaking and had seamlessly slipped his arm around beomgyu’s waist and pulled him into his side until their hips bumped - as though it were a common occurrence and not something that might just have thrown beomgyu’s whole world off kilter.
because… what? kang taehyun, of all people, voluntarily initiated skinship with beomgyu. he could stress every single word of that sentence and it still wouldn’t sufficiently express how shocking this situation is. beomgyu might be dreaming.
to his immense relief, beomgyu hadn’t outwardly stumbled or startled when taehyun had tugged him in close (which would have been irreparably damaging to his reputation), but he can’t quite focus on what taehyun’s saying with the warmth of his arm sinking into beomgyu’s back and the light pressure of his palm on his side. it’s like his brain has tripped over the innocuous point of contact and can’t get back up.
at least he didn’t choose to wear a crop top tonight, beomgyu thinks absently, then immediately hates his brain for conjuring that concept because now he’s got tingles running down his spine - it’s all too easy to imagine the feeling of skin on skin with such a thin layer of fabric separating his skin from taehyun’s right now.
beomgyu glares intensely at yeosang’s shoes. it’s all his fault, in a convoluted way; a few weekends ago they’d all been at a party together, much like tonight, and beomgyu hadn’t been able to tear his eyes off the little interactions and casual touches between yeosang and his boyfriends. wooyoung fleetingly squeezing his hand as he walked past, san’s muscular arm draped over his shoulder; two hands tangling together in san’s hair, three pairs of legs twisted around each other on a too-small sofa. of course, there was no shortage of the less innocent kind of touching, either; those three (well, two of them in particular that beomgyu doesn’t find necessary to name) are never ones to shy away from wandering and lingering hands and lips, no matter their audience, but beomgyu might do something drastic if he thinks about that too hard so he chooses not to.
he can admit he’s jealous, but not of yeosang specifically - just of the intimacy the three show each other so easily.
physical touch has always been beomgyu’s main love language, but he’d always half-jokingly demanded acts of service from his friends if asked, thinking they’d make fun of him if they knew.
until now. or sort of until that last party, when he’d had too much to drink and agreed to a game of truth or dare with a small group of some of his closest friends, like an absolute fool. he’d drunkenly admitted how much he liked - longed for, even - the idea of casual intimacy and touch, platonic or otherwise. he would never go so far as to use the words touch-starved, but… while some of beomgyu’s friends are pretty touchy by nature, a large majority of them have gotten into relationships recently, and have suddenly been more focused on bestowing their affections on their respective partners. it's all terribly unfair, and has left beomgyu altogether deprived.
during the game, beomgyu’s admission hadn’t felt too scandalous, given the outrageous confessions it had been bracketed by (he’d never needed nor wanted to hear about yeonjun's past sexual escapades with wooyoung and changbin in nearly that much detail, thank you very much). it had only been kai, taehyun, soobin, and yeonjun, so it wasn’t even their whole extended group of friends who he’d mentioned it to.
in any case, he hadn’t thought of it again until now, and his current thoughts whirl between dichotomous states of intense regret - because no one was supposed to remember that, not really, let alone do anything about it - and mindless pleasure that he thinks could pull him under if he let it. taehyun’s muscles tense against beomgyu’s back every time he shifts his weight and, despite, being the slightly taller of the two, beomgyu feels so engulfed by taehyun, thinks he probably would from any kind of touch even without the reminder of the other boy’s strength.
and this is exactly why he regrets his drunken confession so much, even more than he could have expected: he likes it, the touch, likes it intensely. it feels like taehyun has opened the floodgates and now beomgyu won’t be able to go a second of the day without craving someone’s hands on him.
even in his own mind, the thought is humiliating.
taehyun’s fingers stretch forward, reaching onto the edge of beomgyu’s stomach, and tap him a little, making the muscles beneath the touch jump and beomgyu’s attention snap back to the present. assuming he must have missed something, beomgyu looks up with a sheepish smile, meeting yeosang’s kind eyes. (although he can’t help but notice a little amusement masked beneath, too. betrayal!)
“sorry! i was lost in thought.” he hopes yeosang didn’t notice his shoes being the subject of beomgyu’s ire, and that that will be sufficient explanation if he did. he also hopes taehyun won’t think anything of beomgyu’s being so quiet - it’s not necessarily common for beomgyu, but certainly not unheard of, so there’s some hope it’ll be brushed off.
taehyun chuckles beside him and beomgyu can feel it, they’re standing so close. his hand squeezes lightly on beomgyu’s side. “i was just saying i’m about to head out. got an exam in the morning.”
at the thought of the loss of taehyun’s arm around him, beomgyu pouts before he can help himself, quickly biting it back and nodding along to yeosang’s righteous outrage on the topic of saturday morning exams: “it’s not even about hangovers, it’s the principle of it! weekends are sacred.”
beomgyu’s about to chime in in agreement when a dark blur crashes into yeosang’s back, almost sending them both tumbling but preventing it with arms tight around yeosang’s waist. wooyoung giggles into yeosang’s reddening neck before hooking his chin over his shoulder to nod in agreement.
“it’s true!! this is why i have never slept with a professor in all my years. they’re barely even human.”
yeosang turns a judgemental side-eye on his boyfriend and taehyun chuckles again, using his grip on beomgyu to nudge him a little until beomgyu gets the idea and shuffles around to face taehyun more easily, expectant.
“i’ll take that as my cue to leave,” taehyun says to him with a quirk of an eyebrow, eyeing wooyoung and yeosang becoming occupied with each other. “you’re sticking around a bit longer, hyung?”
beomgyu nods, pushing through the mild fog in his brain to recall the plans he’d made earlier that evening with his roommate. his voice is only a little breathy as he hums, “mm, i’ll head back later with jeonginnie. he bagsed us seats in chan-hyung’s car.”
taehyun nods approvingly, which beomgyu finds attractive for no reason at all. they’ve turned to properly face each other at this point instead of just being angled towards each other, and with taehyun’s arm still in its place around beomgyu’s back, they’re standing almost toe to toe. maybe that’s why the simplest actions are making beomgyu weak at the knees - taehyun’s stare is intense at the best of times, let alone when he’s this close. fortunately (unfortunately?), the younger boy breaks eye contact to tip back the last mouthful of the lemonade he’s been nursing all evening, and steps away to start them moving. he doesn’t remove his hand entirely, just sliding it around to rest on the small of beomgyu’s back, making him walk alongside taehyun with no spoken instruction to do so. beomgyu only realises he could’ve resisted after a few steps. too late now.
taehyun stops them just outside a small circle of mismatched sofas and armchairs containing a scattering of mutual friends, as though to deliver him to and leave him with the little group, but beomgyu feels transparent and doesn’t want to be seen through in this particular instance.
he turns to taehyun with a placating smile and makes an excuse. “i’m gonna run to the bathroom, tyun. good luck on the exam tomorrow!”
he makes a ‘fighting!’ fist towards taehyun to make him giggle and return the gesture with his free hand mock-seriously, as usual. “thanks, gyu-hyung.” the same hand is then suddenly approaching beomgyu’s face until the cool back of his fingers is pressed against his forehead. he frowns, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that beomgyu doesn’t trust.
“don’t drink too much more tonight, beomgyu, you’re already pretty flushed.”
beomgyu can only stand there, probably getting even more red in the cheeks, as taehyun finally, slowly, withdraws both of his hands and backs away towards the door with a cheeky wave matching his grin. “get home safe,” beomgyu calls out in a weak attempt at normalcy a few seconds too late.
then he flees to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, and stare at himself in the mirror, wondering just what he’s got himself into.
~~~
when hyunjin sneaks up behind beomgyu and jeongin after a lecture a few weeks later, he ruffles jeongin’s hair excitedly before inviting them to a dance department party that weekend. ‘inviting’ is probably the wrong word, given the wide-eyed pouty look he’d fixed them both with until they agreed, upon which he clasped his hands together and looked so blissful you’d think he’d just been bestowed a blessing straight from heaven. arts students and their dramatics, is what jeongin whispers to beomgyu a little too loudly for hyunjin not to hear, so they endure his offended screeching all the way to their next class, exchanging poorly-hidden grins all the way.
a few days later, jeongin’s phone is still pinging with the occasional sulky message from the older boy as the roommates get ready together, an hour after the party officially started. beomgyu displays an incredible amount of restraint in not teasing jeongin over how whipped his hyung is for him (and vice versa). jeongin’s cheeks flush pink anyway at one of beomgyu’s pointed looks when he catches jeongin smiling down at his phone. beomgyu has a little bruise on his shin to show for it, and jeongin’s phone screen coincidentally has a new crack.
(“i’m asking for a new roommate next semester,” beomgyu huffs as they walk to the bus stop.
“me too,” jeongin sniffs disdainfully, turning his face away.
neither of them unwind their arms from where they’re linked tightly between them.)
it’s a big party, beomgyu realises when they finally arrive, spread out around a house he can’t believe someone their age owns. his stomach clenches with a hit of anxiety at the number of people here, and he briefly regrets not pregaming, but jeongin isn’t a big drinker (his not-quite-boyfriends baby him too much), and beomgyu tries to keep him company when he can.
and that’s not to mention the… events… of the last two parties beomgyu drank at. he fights off a shudder at the thought, or maybe it’s a shiver, but he doesn’t have time to think about it because his phone is buzzing in his hand with a response to one of many ‘where are u guys’ messages he’d sent out preemptively a few minutes ago. it’s yeonjun, telling him to stay put.
beomgyu huffs and shows it to jeongin at his side, who nudges him insistently like the annoying kid he is. they don’t have to loiter in the entrance for too long before beomgyu can see bubblegum pink hair bobbing and weaving through the thick crowd towards them. a smile splits his face when he sees how happy yeonjun looks, a weight visibly off his shoulders having recently completed the semester’s huge cohort-wide dance showcase (hence the massive party).
yeonjun’s grinning as he yells out greetings, obviously a few drinks in, holding out his hand to each of them in turn for one of the bro-hugs he loves so much. he keeps a hold of beomgyu’s even afterwards, though, using it to drag the pair back the way he came with a tilt of his head. jeongin grabs beomgyu’s other wrist just in time and they move through the crowd like that, yeonjun only slowing when they reach a slightly less crowded room.
it’s disproportionately even louder than the rest of the house had been, but that’s kind of to be expected with their particular group of friends. beomgyu looks back at jeongin to share an eye roll, then barely manages to stop himself from bumping into yeonjun’s back where he’s suddenly stopped. at the sight before him, beomgyu almost gets deja vu from when taehyun had similarly brought him over to the edge of a circle of couches, and unconsciously scans the occupants of the seats for the boy in question. he tells himself that he’s just taking in the room, scouting out the situation, and so he does.
his eyes are drawn to the biggest and loudest group of them first, of course. piled on one long sofa is most of the squad that beomgyu’s dancer friends had formed for the showcase. at one end of the sofa, yongbok is curled cutely into minho’s side, tucked under his arm and watching with a fond smile as minho and seonghwa exchange semi-awkward words and definitely awkward laughs. (those two have history with a capital h, but they’re getting over it gradually). seonghwa is multitasking, too; he’s petting yunho’s hair, who’s sitting on the ground and leaning back against his legs, making eyes at mingi across the room. wooyoung is next to yunho on the ground and looks extremely drunk already, based on his overly passionate hand gestures that risk hitting yunho in the face with every word he spits out at him. wooyoung’s seated between yeosang’s legs, and san’s hands are fiddling with his loose collar from where san is draped sideways over yeosang’s lap. in turn, yeosang is speaking softly down to san and tracing the shell of his ear with a slow finger. as beomgyu watches, hyunjin stumbles over and falls over the arm of the sofa onto yongbok - who laughs and wraps his arms around him - and minho - who scowls and slaps hyunjin’s shoulder, but lets him bury his face in minho’s thigh, and subtly keeps one possessive hand on hyunjin’s shoulder.
amusement and fondness warm beomgyu’s chest. they look like such a mess, the whole pile of them, but beomgyu supposes that they, as the dancers here, have the most right out of anyone.
he moves his gaze along:
on the arm of a nearby armchair, jisung’s leaning down into chan as they both animatedly discuss something with changbin, hongjoong, and mingi, all spread over more armchairs and the floor. they’re probably talking about lyric writing or music production, the nerds.
then on the next sofa over, comparatively spaced out and calm, there’s seungmin laughing with jongho, and kai, and - taehyun. beomgyu’s side feels tingly just looking at him. as though his thoughts are being projected across the room, taehyun’s eyes snap to beomgyu; beomgyu turns his head away so fast that he swears he hears his neck crick.
in the ten or so seconds it took beomgyu to take that all in, yeonjun hasn’t released his hand. beomgyu realises that now because yeonjun uses it to tug him forward again, looking back at him with a little smirk and lacing their fingers together.
simultaneously, beomgyu’s other hand is released with a parting squeeze as jeongin bounds away to perch next to yeosang on the sofa, who smiles and leans closer to talk to him after the group gives him a general loud welcome (“our maknae!” from a fond yunho, “innie baby!!” from hyunjin, et cetera - much to the boy’s embarrassment). while jeongin doesn’t actually study dance, he’d jumped in as an honorary team member to help out with the showcase, as had yeosang and seonghwa.
as he’s dragged along, beomgyu briefly wonders why yeonjun isn’t going back over to his fellow dancers, too. the matter is quickly put out of his mind when he stumbles over chan’s sprawled legs in his inattention as they pass the little group. yeonjun must feel it through their linked hands because his grip on beomgyu’s hand tightens, arms muscles tensing in his sleeveless top (why do all beomgyu’s friends like wearing those so much?) as his backstretched arm steadies beomgyu and takes his extra weight. yeonjun looks back over his shoulder at beomgyu, eyes twinkling over his easy grin as he tugs beomgyu closer to walk next to him instead, not missing a beat even as he inexplicably flips changbin off on their way past.
beomgyu falls into step beside him obediently, then belatedly thinks about how this hand-holding thing is dangerous; not only does it have beomgyu feeling all fluttery and soft and distractible, it gives yeonjun far too much power over him. but beomgyu can’t let go without drawing more attention to the contact and his own weirdness about it, and he’d be lying just a little to say he really wanted to let go, anyway. and, besides all that, it’s not like yeonjun will keep holding on once they sit down. so he doesn’t have to worry.
he holds onto that hope while yeonjun guides him towards an empty loveseat. it looks out of place, an unused chair, when every other surface in the vicinity is so crowded. but beomgyu’s friends are all pretty clingy and prefer to hang out in larger groups, he supposes, and the loveseat is a little more isolated and only has room for two. whatever the reason may be, beomgyu can’t complain since it’s marginally quieter over here; he might get to have an actual, non-yelled conversation with yeonjun. he’s been wanting to ask about joining a dance team, and yeonjun’s been dropping very unsubtle hints about the very same thing for a while now, too.
yeonjun flops down on one side of the small sofa, groaning as he sinks into its cushy backrest.
beomgyu grins down at him, always on the lookout for an opportunity to tease. “old joints getting sore there, hyung?”
yeonjun opens one eye just a slit to glare up at him, and then suddenly he’s tugging hard on beomgyu’s hand that beomgyu has been trying so hard to forget is still in yeonjun’s grasp.
beomgyu goes flying forwards with a yelp, knees knocking into yeonjun’s and sending his centre of gravity tipping over into the sofa.
he lands half on top of yeonjun, a knee between yeonjun’s thighs and a hand on his chest, face uncomfortably close to yeonjun’s lazy lidded smirk.
after a quiet beat in which he gets his bearings, he pushes off of yeonjun, letting out an annoyed groan and shaking his long hair over his face to hide his blush. yeonjun’s laughing at him as he rolls over sideways to end up slumped next to yeonjun, and beomgyu’s not above throwing a petulant fist out to clip yeonjun on the shoulder.
yeonjun’s head rolls sideways to face beomgyu where it’s resting back on the top of the backrest, neck elongated and exposed, and beomgyu is forced to realise how close they’re seated when he does the same and their noses are barely a handspan apart. he wrinkles his nose and turns his face away quickly, but he can’t unnotice the heat of yeonjun’s arm and thigh pressing into his own.
“do you mind not manspreading? you’re on my half,” beomgyu snipes half-heartedly, trying not to let his mind fixate on the contact - they’re no strangers to it, even if it tends to end in bickering and maybe some light wrestling. so this is completely normal!
but then there’s also the fact that yeonjun’s still got his fingers laced tightly through beomgyu’s, which is decidedly not normal for them, and neither is the way yeonjun’s pulled their clasped hands into his lap, with his other hand coming to close around the back of beomgyu’s so that beomgyu’s whole hand is fully covered, encapsulated in yeonjun’s.
much more predictable is yeonjun’s response to beomgyu’s complaint: shoving his leg further into beomgyu’s space and even shuffling his whole body a little closer. and so is the way he lifts up his head to lean in close with fluttering eyelashes and an aegyo-filled mock apology.
sitting there pressed against yeonjun from shoulder to ankle, beomgyu’s face burns as he wonders if this is the teasing he’s been expecting ever since that fateful, terrible night weeks ago. because, once again, it’s not normal that yeonjun stays all pressed up against him instead of moving back after sufficiently annoying beomgyu; something is different. but the same flush of heat that had spread from taehyun’s hand on his side is creeping through his body, now, the same hush falling over his thoughts, and beomgyu is fighting to keep from feeling mindless from it as yeonjun starts hedgily mentioning some dance friends who are looking for a crew member and who coincidentally want to meet beomgyu sometime. beomgyu’s just starting to scrounge through his brain fog for a comment, feeling he’s been silent and distracted by yeonjun’s thumb smoothing over his knuckles for too long, when a pair of feet appear in the space in front of them where beomgyu’s gaze has been fixed dazedly on the floor.
“hi.”
the address draws beomgyu’s eyes up the person’s body to their face, eyes catching momentarily on the eye-catching sliver of skin exposed between their jeans and shirt. he’s a bit horrified to find that it’s soobin, when he finally looks at the person’s face, and hopes desperately that soobin didn’t notice that little slip. beomgyu could probably blame it on being drunk, anyway, if he did. he feels plenty drunk despite not having had a drop of alcohol yet. soobin wouldn’t need to know that last part.
soobin’s smiling, so beomgyu smiles back, only to notice soobin’s gaze flicking back and forth between him and yeonjun, and all at once he feels exponentially more flustered by their closeness.
“hi, soobinnie.”
inexplicably, yeonjun still doesn’t pull away even as he greets soobin casually, the two sharing a significant look that beomgyu can’t pretend to understand. yeonjun had lifted one hand off beomgyu’s to wiggle his fingers at soobin, and is now settling it in the crook of beomgyu’s elbow instead, and beomgyu wishes he’d had the foresight to wear long sleeves but how could he have possibly predicted this? yeonjun’s palm is smooth and warm against the sensitive skin of beomgyu’s inner elbow, and the hairs all up and down both of beomgyu’s arms are standing on end from the touch.
he meets eyes with soobin, again, who smiles down at him. beomgyu bites his cheek; from this angle, soobin’s smile almost looks like a smirk.
“you wanna sit, bin?” yeonjun offers from next to him, always the considerate hyung, and beomgyu’s gaze departs from soobin to look around for a nearby free chair they could drag over. or maybe he should take the opening to extract himself from yeonjun’s clutches and offer soobin his seat, and turn to his trustworthy method of splashing water on his face that he’d resorted to last time with taehyun.
yeonjun’s fingers gently wriggle free of his, and beomgyu’s cheeks heat at the reminder of the contact as yeonjun shuffles a little further away from him, right back into the corner against the arm of the loveseat. is yeonjun thinking the same, that beomgyu should get up? or is it just that the joke’s over now, after a torturous minute of keeping it up in front of soobin?
before beomgyu can even pull his hand back from where it still sits draped over yeonjun’s lap, yeonjun’s free hand is clasping around beomgyu’s inner thigh, and his hand on beomgyu’s elbow is tightening, and beomgyu is being pulled hard towards yeonjun. he gasps with the sudden movement, mind running wild feeling yeonjun’s fingers dig harshly into his inner thigh as he lifts beomgyu’s leg to place it over his own. beomgyu steadies himself with his free hand on the sofa next to him, and tries not to breathe as loudly as it feels like he is.
they’re unimaginably even closer than before now; beomgyu’s shoulder is resting back against yeonjun’s and there’s thick, warm muscle under one thigh instead of the ancient upholstery of the loveseat.
he vaguely registers that he’s sitting there with his mouth open a little in shock and promptly snaps it shut, biting on his bottom lip to keep it so, but there isn’t much he can do about the blush spreading down his neck as yeonjun speaks with a purr in his voice.
“all yours, soobinnie.”
beomgyu tries not to audibly gulp when soobin steps closer to the pair of them, eyes lingering on yeonjun’s hand as it slips off beomgyu’s thigh, before grinning down. “thanks, hyung.”
and he sits down in the meagre space left on the other side of beomgyu, murmuring further greetings as he squishes in, placing a hand behind beomgyu’s shoulder and pushing it forward gently so that he can lead back against the cushions. it leaves beomgyu's side that's not leaning into yeonjun leaning into soobin instead. beomgyu has the presence of mind to be grateful, in any case; if soobin had just leant back against him, he might have just suffocated under soobin’s giant shoulders.
yeonjun asks soobin why he was late, and soobin answers without leaning forward. and beomgyu suddenly realises that they can converse right over his head, because they’re both so much taller than him. he knows they’re not actually that much taller than him in reality, but sitting here slouched between them, between their broad shoulders and muscled arms and thighs, they feel big, and he feels small.
beomgyu’s mind is getting a little hazy, and his core is getting a bit tight.
he can’t think straight enough to figure out what would be the smarter thing to do right now for his own self-preservation: stay quiet, not draw attention to himself, and hope they forget he’s even here, or make a fuss about being manhandled in an attempt to act potentially more normally.
in a sort of accidental compromise, he ends up pouting up at yeonjun when he next asks him a question (the contents of which beomgyu could not repeat at gunpoint), eyebrows furrowed to display his slightly exaggerated displeasure at the treatment as a whole. he gets a cute giggle and a hand smoothing his forehead out in return.
“oh, sorry, gyu-yah,” yeonjun coos. “you don’t mind sitting together, right? poor soobinnie had nowhere to sit.”
a low chuckle from his other side, too, makes him turn before he manages to answer yeonjun. soobin’s gazing down at him with his eyes scrunched in a sweet smile. “mm, we have too many friends and not enough chairs,” he laughs, and beomgyu almost sighs aloud because that’s such a nice normal thing of soobin to say, finally, but then -
“besides, it’s so nice and cosy here.” and soobin slings an arm along the back of the couch, resting somewhere behind beomgyu’s neck, and slouches lower as if to prove his point. he leans right back into the saggy sofa with it, until he can pillow his head on the backrest much like yeonjun did earlier. with half of beomgyu’s weight resting back on soobin, beomgyu ends up sinking back and sideways into him, too, so that he has to look down and a little backwards to find soobin’s face, which is fashioned into a poorly hidden smirk.
beomgyu whips his head forward in flustered confusion. there’s just so much going on. heat is seeping into him from both sides, and from soobin’s arm behind his head, and from yeonjun’s thigh under his and his hand on beomgyu’s elbow. it’s surrounding, all-encompassing, and worst of all it’s not annoying or uncomfortable like it probably should be; his mind keeps trying to pull him under in bliss of how small and warm and loved all the contact makes him feel. but he can’t let it, because he still doesn’t understand why they’re doing it, and the best reason he’s come up with is that they’re making fun of him - and in that case, he definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it.
with an internal sigh, beomgyu decides that he needs to gather the strength to extract himself and stand up and give himself a bit of distance. he can’t quite bring himself to do so without taking one last moment to soak it up. so he closes his eyes for a moment and relaxes back into the position they’ve got him in, head resting back in the crook of soobin’s elbow and more of his weight sinking into the back of the sofa and the boys bracketing him alike.
the worst part of it all: whatever their intentions, beomgyu can’t deny how nice all the contact feels.
when he opens his eyes a few seconds later beomgyu realises his friends have gone silent on either side of him, having felt him finally relax. he sighs just barely, already leaning forward and removing his leg from over yeonjun’s to pitch himself forward and up. standing up, the air is instantly cold all over his skin, and beomgyu realises he’d been sweating a little.
“all good, beomgyu?” soobin’s voice sounds from behind him as he picks his way over their tangled feet. he turns to offer an excuse and is momentarily rendered silent by the sight that greets him.
soobin is sprawled over half the loveseat, looking the picture of contentness with a hint of worry in his eyes as he gazes up at beomgyu. yeonjun’s sitting upright on his half of the seat as though he had leaned forward to follow beomgyu, something between a frown and a pout on his face. soobin’s fingers are hooked in yeonjun’s collar, keeping him seated.
and already, their knees are touching, yeonjun’s hand brushing soobin’s thigh where he’s propping himself up, because there’s so little space between them. was beomgyu really there a moment ago? with this outside view, his mind is flooded with images of what the three of them must have looked like just a few moments ago, and he almost claps his hands to his face to hide how warm his cheeks are becoming.
“bathroom!” beomgyu squeaks out, ready to flee, but forces himself to walk away as slowly as he can manage with a semi-causal smile. it drops as he lets himself become hidden weaving through the crowd, biting his nails. he decides to actually find a bathroom and give himself a minute to calm down. he spots one quickly, unfortunately recognisable due to the decent queue leading up to the door.
he sighs, dismissing the brief idea of looking for a different one since this house is huge and he might actually get lost. no thank you. so he stands there in the line, teeth biting down on short fingernails, and tries not to let his mind wander too far.
it’s all he can think about, is the thing, and his memory is bringing even more things to the forefront and making him feel things all over - phantom fingers digging into his thigh, phantom warmth behind his head and all around him. beomgyu bites his lower lip hard to try and snap himself out of it; it doesn’t work. he finds himself wondering instead what would’ve happened if he’d stayed there, if they would’ve grown bolder in whatever their intentions were and encased him even more. it’s too easy to imagine soobin reaching over beomgyu for something and then leaving his arm innocently resting over beomgyu’s stomach, or yeonjun letting his hand sit harmlessly back on beomgyu’s thigh, a little higher than before by accident. and it’s far too easy to imagine this static picture moving, too; soobin might angle towards beomgyu to more easily caress his stomach and crowd him in more, yeonjun might wrap his long fingers around and under beomgyu’s thigh to hold him in place like that and maybe trail his other hand down beomgyu’s forearm to hold his hand again. or maybe he’d grip beomgyu’s wrist and pull his arm away to the side, exposing more of him to soobin’s roaming hands.
beomgyu’s eyes snap wide open and he stares at the ground in front of him, horrified with himself. his lower stomach is swirling with interest at the images he’s been conjuring, heat pooling at the base of his spine, which was never meant to happen - even if his friends had intended to tease him about wanting to be touched, they didn’t deserve to be manipulated so obscenely in beomgyu’s imagination. and he’s suddenly struck with the realisation that he’d done almost the same with taehyun’s touch, too, when he’d briefly imagined how it would feel on his bare skin.
beomgyu buries his face in his hands. he’s a terrible friend. his mind races with questions: how is he meant to face them again after this? was he really that touch starved, that he’s immediately fantasising sexually (in public) about the first three people who touch him in a slightly different manner to usual?
and, perhaps the most vitally: why had he drunkenly decided to confide in the specific four friends that he’s had a crush on at some point in time throughout the course of their friendship? he’s sure that’s why his brain is playing up like this, but he’s also completely over all those little crushes. fleeting things, really.
thankfully, before he can spiral too far into that topic, he’s distracted.
unfortunately, it’s by long arms appearing out of nowhere to wrap around his waist from behind, pulling him back into a warm, broad chest. beomgyu hasn’t got his breath back before there’s a chin hooking over his shoulder and a familiar voice speaking right into his ear.
“beomgyu-hyung!”
kai’s making his voice all cutesy and he squeezes beomgyu tight in his arms to shake him a little from side to side. this is familiar, this is fine for beomgyu. except he’s already so flustered and out of it from the - the touching, and from his own traitorous thoughs, so all he can do is go limp in kai’s hold as he mumbles back a panicked greeting.
the boy just hums happily. “i haven’t got to talk to you yet tonight so i followed you over here. yeonjun-hyung and soobin-hyung were hogging you.”
“that’s one word for it,” beomgyu mutters without meaning to, then huffs and laughs weakly in the hopes it’ll sound annoyed and petulant instead of… he doesn’t even know. turned on? freaked out? in the middle of an existential crisis?
kai hums again and the vibrations travel across beomgyu’s back where it’s pressed against kai’s chest. beomgyu very carefully focuses on the way the queue in front of him is gradually shrinking instead. kai wobbles along behind him as they move a few steps forward together.
the puffs of air when kai speaks again brush lightly over beomgyu’s ear. “so how are you doing, hyung? i feel like i haven’t got to talk to you in forever!”
“i’ve been good,” beomgyu starts to answer and is proud when his voice is only a little shaky. but his next words catch in his throat when kai unclasps his hands around beomgyu’s front to start petting over his stomach, one arm still braced around him to keep him close and the other shifting up and down on the spot below it. beomgyu clears his throat and hates the audible strain he can hear in his voice as he does his best to continue. “lots of assignments at the moment, but it - it’ll slow down soon.”
it’s hard to form words when his eyes are fixed on the slow movement on kai’s hand, wrinkling his shirt up and down, up and down. beomgyu’s single grasp on sanity is the knowledge that kai’s always loved rubbing his friends' stomachs, but he's already so sensitive and his mind is obviously primed to obsess over touches from his friends, so it barely feels comparable to the usual fleeting, aggressive stomach rubs kai usually loves to give. he’s not normally draped over beomgyu’s back with his nose brushing beomgyu’s throat every now and then, either, nor is the action normally this far from playful with the low rumble of kai's casual conversation against beomgyu’s back.
normal. that concept has been slipping further from beomgyu’s grip all evening, and it’s starting to not even sound like a word anymore.
they stumble forward another few steps to be right outside the bathroom door, now, and beomgyu’s momentarily distracted by noting how long everyone’s been taking in there (unless time’s just going slow in his head). kai then makes some sympathetic comment about beomgyu working too hard, but beomgyu doesn’t really hear him because there’s suddenly electricity shooting across his skin from where kai’s hand has just slipped up and under the hem of beomgyu’s shirt.
“kai!” he gasps out, grabbing the hand so it can’t wander further over bare skin. “what - what’s gotten into you?”
kai immediately stills without any pressure from beomgyu’s grasp. “ah, sorry hyung,” kai says apologetically, loosening his arm around beomgyu and withdrawing his hand to over beomgyu’s shirt. beomgyu’s grip on his hand is still tight and confining. “too much? i’m sorry.”
his sad and guilty pout is audible in his voice, and beomgyu takes a moment to breathe and recenter himself before scolding himself internally for overreacting. again, it’s not something kai’s never done before, and the poor kid isn’t to blame for beomgyu’s mind being in the gutter. (soobin and yeonjun might be, a little bit, but not kai.)
so beomgyu shakes his head lightly, loosening his grip on kai’s hand so it’s more comfortable and leaning further back into him. “no, no. ignore me. sorry for snapping, kai.”
kai still feels tense as he asks, “are you really alright, hyung? don’t just say i’ve been good again.”
beomgyu huffs a laugh, wonders how to explain himself. “i’m really fine, just a bit tense or something lately, i guess.”
a long, understanding hum sounds close to his ear. “so it’s okay, then?”
beomgyu blinks a few times, breath quickening. “hm? what’s okay?”
“this,” kai says, and simultaneously retightens his arm around beomgyu and fingers the hem of beomgyu’s shirt with his other hand. beomgyu’s stomach tenses from even the light brush of the back of kai’s knuckles against his bare skin, which turns into a more purposeful press when beomgyu doesn’t make a move to stop him again.
breathing through the intoxicating sensation and telling himself over and over not to overanalyse it, beomgyu nods, slowly; it’s not not okay, and in fact the way kai’s large handspan soon stretches all the way across his front is incredibly nice. beomgyu had let his own hand drop back to his side back when he’d nodded, but kai’s hand still doesn’t roam much, just mimics its previous small up and down movements with beomgyu’s shirt now bunched up over kai’s wrist. beomgyu barely has the mental capacity to blush at the sight, with how pinpointed his whole focus is on the skin-to-skin contact and the happy noise kai just made in his ear and the fluttering it’s all inadvertently causing in beomgyu’s lower abdomen every time kai’s pinky touches the waistband of beomgyu’s jeans. it’s mind-numbing in the best possible way, but beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself to speak through his shaky breaths.
“can i ask why, though? this is, um, kind of new. what’s… going on?” he’s not only asking for his own sake; it’s possible kai is stressed and is seeking out extra comfort from beomgyu, in which case beomgyu wants to know so he can look after kai properly.
but kai hums happily behind him. “i’m touching you! like you said you liked, a few weekends ago. you do, right, hyung?”
beomgyu blinks as he processes the words, then does his best to ignore kai’s innocently suggestive phrasing and frowns. it doesn’t sound like kai’s making fun of him. “i - yes? but you don’t have to, or anything. i didn’t actually even mean to say anything about it. i wasn’t trying to make you feel like you needed to - to touch me more.” his cheeks are almost painfully hot and he can’t fight the urge to let his head drop back onto kai’s shoulder anymore, feeling a bit exhausted with all the mental gymnastics he’s been doing this evening.
the hand on his skin moves to his side, sending a wave of goosebumps over beomgyu’s skin as it warms new territory, but kai just uses it to hug beomgyu again, like how he was at the very start, only with one arm now under beomgyu’s shirt. “we don’t feel pressured at all, hyung,” he says, nuzzling into beomgyu’s neck. “it’s more like… an invitation! for us to touch you as much as we want. if that’s okay with you. we’re all really happy about it, actually.”
beomgyu feels bombarded. kai’s phrasing is so suggestive - an invitation for us to touch you as much as we want - and he probably doesn’t even realise, but it’s flustering beomgyu to no end. and then, there’s…
“‘we’?” he echos weakly.
kai nods. “mm, me and taehyunnie, soobin-hyung, and yeonjun-hyung, of course.”
beomgyu’s glad his head was already resting back because he feels a little dizzy. “you... you talked about it?”
a sheepish giggle is muffled into his shoulder. “ah, whoops. yeah, we did. i’m sorry!” he squeezes extra tight in apology. “we didn’t mean to leave you out of the loop or anything on purpose.”
beomgyu narrows his eyes at the ceiling. he doesn’t doubt that kai didn’t, but he can’t be so sure that the others might not have thought it would be more fun to confuse him, to fluster him. yeonjun and soobin’s exchanged smirks come to mind, as does taehyun’s mischievous look from when he’d been leaving that first night. at least now he can be pretty sure it’s not about teasing or mocking him, not maliciously at least. not that he’d expect that from his best friends, but it’s nice to have it confirmed outside his own head.
his heart is still racing as he reaches up a hand to pat kai’s head a few times. “it’s all good, kai-yah. thanks for telling me.”
kai giggles again. “no problem, hyung! i hope you can relax into it now. like, metaphorically and...”
beomgyu snorts, and flicks him on the ear for the poor joke. “i was half convinced yeonjun-hyung and soobin-hyung were making fun of me with it earlier, so comparatively, i’ll be super relaxed.” and he thinks he will, actually, if his friends keep going with this; he’ll know now that he doesn’t need to overthink it, and can just let himself enjoy it without feeling the need to hide that enjoyment. (hypothetically. he senses that might be easier said than done.)
nursing his ear, kai says with a huff, “oh, they were really all over you, weren’t they? i told them to start slow to not freak you out.”
a prickling, tingling feeling creeps back through beomgyu’s stomach, and his ears feel warm. “you were watching?” he asks and can’t help the squeak in his voice.
the hand on his side squeezes again and it feels so much bigger all of a sudden. “it was a very nice sight,” kai says, voice teasing, before he laughs again. “taehyunnie hyung’s words, not mine! we just wanted to see what you guys were up to. and it was cute.”
taehyunnie. beomgyu remembers that the pair were sitting together, now, and wonders how he missed the fact that they’d apparently been watching him with soobin and yeonjun all evening. then again, maybe it’s a good thing he hadn't known, given how overwhelmed he already was; an additional layer of consciousness of his interactions with his hyungs may have been his undoing.
he’s beginning to feel a little overwhelmed now, too; although he doesn’t need to focus as much on kai’s touch anymore, no longer trying to interpret it and puzzle out his motives, it’s still present and warm and sending goosebumps across beomgyu’s stomach with every movement, and he thinks he could use a moment alone to process everything he’s just been told, anyway. so it’s convenient when the bathroom door finally opens and a rumpled couple stumble out. (yuck. no wonder it was taking so long.)
beomgyu taps kai’s arms and they slowly drop, letting beomgyu step out of their circle and turn around to properly see kai for the first time tonight. he’s smiling angelically even as his eyes seem to linger on the lasting blush on beomgyu’s neck.
“see you in a minute, hyung? i’ll head back out.”
beomgyu’s eyes widen a little at the thought of going back out and all that implied, and he scrunches his nose at the impish giggle kai lets out. “yeah, yeah. i don’t have anywhere else to go.” he rolls his eyes as if it’s a burden but actually, deep down, just a tiny bit, there’s a bud of anticipation building in him, as nervous as it is excited. it blooms as thoughts arise, unbidden, of what his friends might pull him into when he returns. he waves kai off quickly and locks the bathroom door behind him, leaning against it as a puff of air escapes his mouth. there’s a dull thud as he lets his head loll back until it hits the door, and, staring up at the ceiling, he wonders once again what’s going on, but in a very different way than how he had been previously.
is it really possible that his friends are going so much out of their way to just… do nice things for him, things they think he’ll like? (and they’re not wrong, either). are they that selfless? if so, beomgyu has such amazing friends.
some of kai’s words pop into his mind.
it’s like an invitation for us to touch you as much as we want. we’re all really happy about it.
beomgyu slaps his palms to his cheeks and slides down the door until he’s crouched on the ground, groaning. that makes it sound like it’s so much heavier, like it all has so much more intention than just friends being good friends. he inhales, exhales, and pushes himself up off the floor before walking to the sink. no level of occupation of his mind could prevent him from immediately going and washing his hands with soap for a solid few minutes after touching that floor, especially having been reminded so recently of what kinds of activities have likely been taking place in here all evening.
and, well, maybe he’s stalling just a little.
but soon enough he straightens up, gives himself a few pats on the cheek with his newly cool hands, and squares his shoulders. back into the thick of it! maybe a different seat will have been freed up by now and he can avoid the subjects of his turmoil entirely.
that does turn out to be the case, in fact, and he spends a pleasant half hour or so chatting to jeongin and yongbok. but he can’t ignore the slight disappointment he felt when he was waved over to them in the first place before he could even look around, nor the urge he continually has to survey the room every few seconds to - he doesn’t even know. see if yeonjun and soobin are still sitting on that stupid loveseat? see if kai and taehyun are still watching him? he just wants to look for them, so he finally lets himself after a long time of resisting, finding them all spread around the room doing their own things. why does he feel disappointed at that, too?
beomgyu turns back around to meet jeongin’s knowing look and see yongbok’s cheeky smile, narrowing confused eyes at them in return.
and, in the back of his mind, beomgyu has a strange feeling of impending doom.