Chapter Text
In the dim glow of his small apartment, Yeon Sieun sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered textbooks and notes that blurred into meaningless scribbles under his tired gaze. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, marking another sleepless night in the shadow of Ahn Suho's coma. It had been weeks since the incident—weeks of hospital visits, forced smiles for the group, and an aching void that Sieun couldn't quite fill. School felt heavier, fights loomed larger, but worst of all was the isolation that crept in during quiet moments like this.
Sieun's mind wandered, as it often did lately, to things he had never considered before. At 18, he was acutely aware of how sheltered his life had been—buried in studies, avoiding social entanglements, focusing on survival in the brutal hierarchy of Eunjang High. But lately, a strange curiosity had bubbled up, one that made his cheeks flush even in solitude. Kissing. He'd seen it in movies, overheard classmates bragging about it in the hallways, but Sieun had never experienced it himself. Not once. The thought gnawed at him: What did it feel like? Was it as awkward as it seemed, or something more... profound? He wasn't interested in romance, not really—not with everything else crumbling around him. But the idea of being so inexperienced, so untouched by something that seemed so commonplace, embarrassed him deeply. It felt like another weakness in a world that preyed on vulnerabilities.
He couldn't just kiss a stranger. That was out of the question—too risky, too impersonal. And a girl? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably. Sieun had never felt that pull toward anyone in that way, at least not consciously. His thoughts drifted to his friends, the only people he trusted in this chaotic life. The group that had formed around him: Park-Humin (Baku), Jun-tae, and Hyun-tak (Gotak). They were his anchors, especially now with Suho gone.
Juntea was the first to come to mind. Sweet, quiet Jun-tae, always hovering on the edges with his wide-eyed innocence. But asking him? No. Sieun could already imagine the blush that would consume Jun-tae's face, the stammering refusal or awkward acceptance that would make everything worse. Jun-tae was too timid, too much like a mirror of Sieun's own shyness. It wouldn't feel right.
Then Baku. Energetic, loud, always slapping backs and pulling people into bear hugs. Baku was the life of the group, but that was exactly the problem. Sieun pictured the scene: Baku laughing uproariously, turning it into a joke, teasing him endlessly afterward. "Yo, Sieun wants a kiss? Haha, come here, you nerd!" No, Baku's boisterous energy would shatter the fragility of the moment. Sieun needed someone who wouldn't mock him, someone who understood boundaries.
That left Gotak—Hyun-tak. The thought settled in Sieun's mind like a gentle weight, not unwelcome but surprising. Gotak was different from the others. He was calm, composed, with a quiet strength that Sieun had come to admire. From the day they met, Gotak had respected Sieun's space in a way no one else did. He never touched without permission, never crowded him like Baku often did in his enthusiasm. If Baku got too rough—clapping Sieun on the shoulder too hard or dragging him into a playful headlock—Gotak would intervene softly, his voice steady: "Hey, ease up. He's not in the mood." It was those small acts of kindness that had drawn Sieun closer to him over time.
They had started studying together more often lately. Gotak was sharp, his mind as analytical as Sieun's, and their sessions were productive, laced with comfortable silences rather than forced chatter. Gotak listened when Sieun spoke, really listened, without judgment. He was gentle, almost protective, in a way that made Sieun feel safe. And in the wake of Suho's coma, Gotak had been there—checking in quietly, offering a shoulder without words. Sieun's heart skipped a beat at the realization: If he was going to ask anyone, it had to be Gotak. He was the only one who wouldn't make it weird, who would understand it was just... an experiment. A way to satisfy this nagging curiosity.
But as Sieun lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, doubt crept in. What if Gotak said no? What if it ruined their friendship? His palms grew sweaty at the thought, but the embarrassment of his inexperience outweighed the fear. Tomorrow, he decided. The group was coming over to revise for midterms anyway. He'd find a way to be alone with Gotak and ask. Just ask.
The next afternoon, Sieun's apartment buzzed with the familiar chaos of his friends. Books were strewn across the low table in the living room, snacks half-eaten and forgotten amid the chatter. Baku dominated the space as usual, sprawled out on the floor with his notebook open but untouched, instead launching into animated stories about the latest school rumors. "Did you hear about that punk from Byeoksan? Thinks he can take on our turf—ha! As if we'd let that slide without Suho here to..." His voice trailed off awkwardly, the mention of Suho hanging in the air like a ghost.
Juntea sat neatly beside him, diligently copying notes, his brows furrowed in concentration. He glanced up occasionally, chuckling softly at Baku's antics but staying focused. Gotak, on the other hand, was seated across from Sieun at the table, his posture straight, pencil moving methodically over his paper. His dark hair fell slightly over his eyes, and he pushed it back with a casual hand, revealing the sharp, thoughtful expression Sieun had grown accustomed to. Every now and then, their eyes met over the textbooks, and Gotak would offer a small, encouraging nod—nothing more, but it warmed Sieun from the inside.
Sieun tried to focus on the math problems in front of him, but his mind raced. His heart pounded erratically, the plan from last night feeling increasingly foolish. How do you even bring something like that up? "Hey, Gotak, want to kiss me for science?" He cringed inwardly, forcing his gaze back to the page. The group dynamic helped distract him for a while—Baku's laughter, Juntae's quiet questions—but as the hours ticked by, the inevitable approached.
"Alright, guys, I gotta bounce," Baku announced suddenly, stretching his arms overhead with a dramatic yawn. "Got some stuff to handle at home. Jun-tae, you coming? We can grab food on the way."
Juntea nodded, packing his bag efficiently. "Yeah, my mom's expecting me soon anyway. Thanks for hosting, Sieun. This was helpful."
Sieun murmured a polite response, his throat dry as he watched them gather their things. Baku clapped him on the back—gently this time, as if sensing the tension—and shot a grin at Gotak. "Don't study too hard, you two. Leave some brain cells for the rest of us!"
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the apartment in sudden, profound silence. Sieun and Gotak were alone, the air thick with the remnants of their friends' energy. Gotak didn't move to leave; instead, he flipped a page in his notebook, seemingly content to continue. "We can wrap up that last chapter if you want," he said softly, his voice even and calm. "No rush."
Sieun's hands trembled slightly as he set down his pencil. This was it—the moment or never. His face burned with preemptive embarrassment, but he forced the words out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Gotak... can I ask you something? It's... kind of personal."
Gotak looked up immediately, his expression shifting from focused to concerned. He set his pencil down, giving Sieun his full attention. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
Sieun swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact. "I... I've never kissed anyone before. And I just... I want to know what it feels like. Not because I like anyone or anything, just... curiosity. I thought about asking someone random, but that doesn't feel right. And with the others... Jun-tae would be too shy, Baku would laugh about it forever. But you... you're always respectful. You don't push. So, I was wondering if... if you'd be okay with it. Just once. To show me."
The words hung in the air, and Sieun braced for rejection, his heart hammering against his ribs. Gotak's eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his usually stoic face, but it softened quickly into something gentle, understanding. He didn't laugh, didn't recoil. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and reassuring. "Sieun... are you sure? This isn't something you have to do just because you're curious. But if it's really what you want, and you trust me... yeah. I'd be okay with it. We can stop anytime if it feels weird."
Relief washed over Sieun like a cool wave, mixed with a fresh wave of nerves. He nodded, unable to speak, and Gotak stood slowly, moving to sit beside him on the floor. The proximity made Sieun's breath hitch—Gotak was close now, his presence warm and solid.
Gotak didn't rush. He sat there for a moment, giving Sieun space to back out, his eyes searching Sieun's face for any sign of hesitation. "We'll take it slow," he murmured. "Tell me if you want to stop." Gently, he reached out, his hand hovering near Sieun's cheek. "Can I touch you here?"
Sieun nodded, his skin tingling in anticipation. Gotak's fingers brushed his cheek lightly, the touch feather-soft, like a whisper. It was nothing like the rough pats from Baku; this was deliberate, caring. Gotak's hand cupped Sieun's jawline, thumb tracing the edge softly, guiding him to look up. Their eyes met—Gotak's dark and steady, holding a depth of emotion that Sieun hadn't expected. There was no mockery, only a quiet intensity that made Sieun's stomach flutter.
Slowly, Gotak leaned in, closing the distance inch by inch. Sieun's heart raced, his lips parting slightly in nervous anticipation. When their mouths finally met, it was soft—impossibly soft. Gotak's lips were warm, pressing gently against Sieun's with no force, just a tender connection. Sieun froze at first, unsure what to do, but the sensation was... nice. It wasn't fireworks like in stories, but a quiet warmth that spread from his lips to his chest, easing the tension in his body.
Gotak didn't deepen it immediately. He lingered, his free hand resting lightly on Sieun's shoulder, fingers splayed in a reassuring hold. The kiss was chaste, exploratory—Gotak tilting his head slightly to fit better, his breath mingling with Sieun's in a way that felt intimate, vulnerable. Sieun's hands, which had been clenched in his lap, relaxed, one tentatively reaching up to touch Gotak's arm, feeling the steady muscle there. Emotions swirled in Sieun: curiosity satisfied, but also a surprising comfort, like finding shelter in a storm. Gotak was so careful, so attuned to him—it made Sieun feel seen, valued.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Gotak pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against Sieun's. His voice was husky, laced with concern. "How was that? Okay?"
Sieun nodded, breathless, his cheeks flushed. "Yeah... it was... good." He hadn't expected the lingering tingle on his lips, the way his body craved more now that the initial awkwardness had passed.
Gotak smiled faintly, a rare, soft expression that lit up his features. "We can stop there if you want. Or... we could try with tongue. It's different—more intense. But only if you're comfortable."
Sieun's pulse quickened again, a mix of nerves and intrigue. He met Gotak's gaze, seeing the patience there, and nodded. "Okay."
Gotak's eyes darkened slightly, but his touch remained gentle. He nodded back, his hand sliding from Sieun's jaw to the nape of his neck, fingers threading lightly into his hair. "Relax," he whispered, before leaning in again. Their lips met once more, starting soft like before, but this time Gotak parted his own slightly, his tongue brushing tentatively against Sieun's lower lip—a question, not a demand.
Sieun hesitated, then opened his mouth a fraction, inviting. Gotak took the cue slowly, his tongue slipping in with exquisite care, exploring gently. The sensation was new—wet, warm, a dance of textures that sent shivers down Sieun's spine. Gotak tasted faintly of the mint gum he'd chewed earlier, clean and refreshing. His hand on Sieun's neck applied the slightest pressure, tilting his head for better access, while his other hand moved to Sieun's waist, pulling him closer without force. It was possessive yet tender, like Gotak was holding something precious.
Sieun's mind blanked, overwhelmed by the intimacy. He mimicked tentatively, his tongue meeting Gotak's in a shy tangle, learning the rhythm. Heat built between them, not frantic but building like a slow fire—Sieun's fingers clutched Gotak's shirt, anchoring himself as waves of sensation washed over him. Emotions flooded: trust, vulnerability, a budding desire he hadn't anticipated. Gotak's breath hitched softly, his control evident in the way he kept things measured, never pushing too far. He stroked Sieun's neck soothingly, a thumb circling the skin there, grounding him amid the intensity.
They kissed like that for what felt like minutes, the world narrowing to just them—the soft sounds of their breathing, the subtle shifts in position. When Gotak finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, eyes hooded with something unspoken. He rested his forehead against Sieun's again, hand still on his neck. "You alright?" he asked, voice rough.
Sieun, dazed and flushed, could only nod, his body humming with newfound awareness.