Archive of Our Own

Friday nights were good enough on their own. It was the only night Seungmin didn’t have Jeongin, his editor, talking his ear off about whatever he was writing, or even worse, about this or that ‘single’s event’ that they both should sign up for. 

But that night was even better, because he had gotten a new chapter finished, had ordered takeout, opened up a bottle of wine (which he wasn’t sure he liked, but it was okay, authors should drink wine for image purposes), and it was raining. 

The night was a complete success, because at around eleven p.m., Seungmin was half-asleep on his couch, a sad, sad drama on in the background, the rain getting heavier, and the wine half-finished. 

And then the ringbell rang.

He almost knocked himself against the coffee table out of shock. He looked at the door like it was impossible for it to have made the noise. Apart from his editor and all the delivery guys, it had been years since someone else rang that bell. 

It happened again.

So it hadn’t been anyone going down the stairs and confusing the light switch and his bell. 

Then, they knocked.

Seungmin moved closer, maybe someone needed help, a neighbour that had forgotten their keys inside, someone who needed to make a phone call… That was how horror films started.

The knocking got stronger, quicker repetitions.

Seungmin swallowed. ‘Thirty-year-old virgin romance author dies in his home on a lonely Friday night after getting stabbed fifty times by a stranger’, what a headline. 

“Min, open, please-”

Seungmin stopped in his tracks.

It couldn’t be. He understood the possibility of someone knocking on his door, needing his help. It had been months since he had last been visited by Minho or Chan, but they were still his friends. The neighbour on the fifth floor would always wave at him when they crossed paths. It wouldn’t be crazy for her to go up and ask for a favour in a dire situation.

But that voice… Impossible.

He looked back at the couch and that coffee table he thought he had dodged, maybe he hadn’t, and his body was lying on the floor, maybe he had drunk a little too much, and that headline would read instead: ‘Drunkar virgin dies popping his eye out with the corner of a coffee table, died agonising.’

“It’s- shit- cold- Min-”

The words came in choppy, as if they were fighting against the door to do so. 

Seungmin knew he had two options; they came to him as he was already moving to open the door.

First, he could leave the door closed, wait for him to go away, call Chan the next morning and yell at him because he was sure it was somehow his fault.

Second, he could open his door and spend the next three years trying to forget seeing his face.

“Min,” Changbin whispered when the door opened.

He looked semi-drowned, his hair down with the weight of the storm outside, his clothes dark and wet, a duffel bag in hand that looked like it was heavier than the weight of their past, his glasses full of droplets he had no place to dry on.

His nose, the soft smile in that small mouth, his big shoulders, soft stomach, his strong neck and- 

He looked perfect. Better than ever.

“Changbin.”

It felt like blowing out the dust of a forgotten photo album. It felt like opening an old book that you had loved when you were younger and stupid.

Seungmin bit the inside of his cheeks.

“Can I come in?” Changbin whispered.

Seungmin's heart was racing, and his chest felt heavy. Changbin had, somehow, gotten a hand over his heart already and was crushing it like it was part of a gym exercise. 

He nodded.

“Thank you. I’m-”

“Wet?”

“Yeah.”

Seungmin nodded again. He went in, looked for some towels to throw on the floor and one to give to Changbin so he could ruffle his curly hair and look devastating five minutes later.

Changbin didn’t go further than the entry, leaving his bag over the towels and closing the door behind himself.

“I’m sorry, it’s late and…”

“We haven’t talked in years.”

“Yeah, that.” Changbin’s polite smile wavered.

“What happened?” Seungmin whispered, his chin dipped down.

“I’m getting divorced.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

“That’s not something you say to someone who is getting divorced, Seungmin,” Changbin answered, scratching his cheek.

“What do you want me to say?” Seungmin shrugged, opening up his hands palms-up.

“‘I’m sorry’?”

“Well, I am not.”

“Seungmin!”

“What?” Seungmin stepped back, then forward and back again. “I mean- I don’t know anything about your relationship. We haven’t talked to each other in years, Changbin!” he heated up. “I don’t even know if it was a… a good relationship!”

“You came to the wedding!”

“Yeah-” And we stopped talking that night at ten p.m. “-but a lot of things can happen! Maybe she doesn’t support your art anymore or-”

Changbin scoffed.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin said, finally. He still wasn’t. How could he? He got heartaches every 23rd of April.

“Thank you. She cheated,” Changbin mumbled, grimacing.

“Damn- Hm- so why are you here?” Seungmin asked, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. A sad story, of course, and a part of him wanted to kill her for hurting Changbin, for having lost him because of it, but he had to protect himself first, and that meant getting Changbin out of his apartment as soon as possible.

“Nice. Smooth as always, Min.”

“Don’t call me Min,” Seungmin grumbled. “We aren’t friends.”

“Harsh,” Changbin answered.

For a moment, Seungmin, who didn’t usually realise a lot of things, noticed two things in Changbin’s eyes, or more like one in his eyes, and one in his mouth.

In Changbin’s eyes, Seungmin saw that he had truly been hurt by the comment. Seungmin thought that was alright, just what he deserved.

In his mouth, Seungmin noticed the tremble of his lips, like they used to do right before Changbin would snap after Seungmin had finally teased him enough.

Changbin didn’t snap at that time, and he didn’t cry either.

Pity.

“So?” Seungmin asked, again, frowning.

“You used to be so nice,” Changbin muttered.

“I-” He wasn’t going to defend himself, rather make sure that Changbin remembered that it hadn’t really been the case.

“I took my things and left. I discovered it today.” He interrupted Seungmin, biting the inside of his cheek and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“And you left your home?” Seungmin frowned.

“Yeah.”

“Where you live,” he kept going, his gaze more and more inquisitive, his eyebrows going higher with each word.

“Yeah.”

“And what are you going to do now? Look for a hotel to live in?”

“I guess? Damn, Seungmin, have a little pity,” Changbin mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as if he was protecting himself.

“What? I’m not the one who left his house in the middle of a rainstorm, Changbin.” Changbin took in a deep breath and muttered something. “What?”

“She was with them when I arrived.”

“Them? As in…?”

“As in three other people.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“It wasn’t… exactly the first time, so I took all I could and ran-”

“Here?” Seungmin rubbed his eyebrow, closing his eyes for a moment.

“To Chan’s.”

“That makes more sense,” he mumbled.

“But he has just had the twins and… they are not to be disturbed after six p.m.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not that Seungmin had been trying to disturb the happy couple much lately, but he kept his texts and calls to midday.

“So I went to Jisung’s, but he’s in Malaysia or something.”

“And you don’t have any other friends? You?”

“I… I was actually on my way to Woo’s, but I… Chan told me you had moved a couple of years ago, and I was curious, and around here already.”

“You’re crazy,” Seungmin groaned, raising his eyebrows again, but he couldn’t help the little smile that started to form.

“Hey, I just wanted to know… how you were doing.”

“I was doing pretty good, about to go to bed and all that.”

“On a Friday night? Aren’t you a boring little-”

“Do you want to sleep on the street tonight, Changbin?”

“Sorry.”

Seungmin's smile spread wider, and Changbin’s lips twitched. 

It was like they were back in high school, crazy that it felt like time hadn’t gone by at all.

A little maddening that Seungmin was ready to let Changbin use his heart as a stepping stone once again.

“So can I stay?” Changbin pouted.

That small mouth and that plump lower lip; those round eyes that looked like tapioca pearls when the light hit them right. Seungmin had always been weak, and, in a masochist way, self-indulgent.

“Get a shower, and clean up after yourself. You sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t have a guest room?”

“Not all of us can be renowned tattoo artists, Changbin.”

“Hey! You’re an acclaimed author!” Changbin smiled. He tried to clap Seungmin’s shoulder, but Seungmin was quick to dodge it.

Seungmin rolled his eyes and finally turned around, ready to get into his room, close the door and hope that come morning, Changbin would be packing and leaving for Chan’s house before he could see him again.

“Min- Seungmin, are you going to leave me here?”

Seungmin ignored him.

“Min! I don’t know where the bathroom is, or the shower controls- I don’t have a towel! Min!”

When Seungmin closed the door to his room, he rested against it, smiling widely.

Shit. Who knew that letting in ghosts from the past felt so good?

──── ୨୧ ────

“Min…” Changbin knocked on Seungmin’s door five minutes later. 

Seungmin had been pressed to that door still, holding his breath, looking up at the ceiling, having a silent breakdown.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t find a towel.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Was Changbin waiting naked behind his door?

Seungmin opened the door; Changbin had been too close to it. Was too close to him after the barrier disappeared.

He was still wet, just in a different manner, a much more devastating one. He had slicked his hair back, was wearing his glasses again, this time clean and dry, and was holding Seungmin’s bathrobe in front of himself.

“You picked up my bathrobe?”

“Did you want me wandering naked around the house?”

“You’re still naked!”

Since when had Changbin gotten better at rattling him than he was doing it to him? 

“But you aren’t seeing my peepee!”

“Don’t call it that!”

Changbin laughed, hard and loud enough that Seungmin’s foundation shuddered. 

“Ah, I needed a laugh…” Changbin exhaled, and Seungmin remembered that even if it had turned out to be a weird, draining night for him, it must have been the worst one ever for Changbin.

“Turn around,” Seungmin said, his voice softer, more understanding.

Changbin raised an eyebrow, but he turned. Seungmin hadn’t really thought that would imply having Changbin’s bare back right there, and worse, his ass.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered anyway, trying to look up. “It must have been a shitty day for you. Go back to the bathroom, I’ll bring you a towel.”

“Thanks, Min.”

Seungmin smiled softly. Changbin didn’t see it.

“To the bathroom,” Seungmin ordered, before he would get even sappier, a risk he couldn’t afford.

“Yes, sir.”

Fuck.

Changbin got a towel, Seungmin got a glimpse of his cock, nestled in between his dark curls, chubby and- 

He looked away, “Sorry,” he muttered, and closed the bathroom door while Changbin looked at him, confused.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen Changbin’s dick.

──── ୨୧ ────

Seungmin had a reputation in high school: annoying, preppy, smart.

Changbin had one too: popular, cute, smart.

They matched! Or so Seungmin’s mind provided him every afternoon as he was doing his homework alone.

They both liked sports, though Seungmin liked baseball—his first heartbreak—, and Changbin liked football, something he had never taken seriously.

“It’s just the best place to study in the afternoons,” Seungmin would tell Jeongin when he asked why the hell he would go sit on the benches after school, no matter if it was scorching hot or freezing cold.

The truth was that he had to be there every day, so no one would think a little too much if he was there on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, when the football team trained.

“Hey, Min!” Changbin shouted one day. Seungmin looked down, then at him. “Pass me the ball, yeah?”

Seungmin pointed at himself, and Changbin nodded.

It was their first interaction. How did he even know his name?

Seungmin threw the ball a little bit to the left, directly into one of Changbin’s teammates’ crotches; it made Changbin laugh so hard that he bent over with it and fell to the grass, hugging his stomach.

Changbin would make sure to, at least, cross a couple of words with Seungmin every training day since then, bumping into him when he got into the field, and making Seungmin retch with the smell of sweat when he got out.

“It’s not that bad!”

“It fucking is!” Seungmin answered, trying to push Changbin away. Changbin grabbed his own t-shirt and pulled him towards himself, and Seungmin's whole body tingled. “What are you-”

“You want to smell something worse?”

“What the hell? Are you a bully now?” Seungmin tried to defend himself, but it was too late; Changbin had him under his t-shirt, pressed against his stomach, and Seungmin almost fainted due to the smell.

Changbin laughed and let go after a couple of seconds, making Seungmin fall down, escaping from his sweaty prison, but he grabbed onto Changbin’s shorts and pulled them down in the process by accident.

Seungmin was mortified. He had just slid down Changbin’s pants and underwear, his teammates were still going in and out of the dressing room and could see it; in fact, two of them were right there, had been laughing at Changbin’s antics before.

He was going to hate him after the public humiliation. He wouldn’t talk to him ever again. Changbin’s was the first dick he had seen in person other than his own, and he was going to hate him.

As he spiralled, Changbin’s high-pitched staccato laughter filled the whole field, followed by that of his teammates, Chan and Minho.

“Man! If you wanted to get in my pants so bad, you could have told me!” Changbin said, still laughing. He pulled his pants up only after shaking his ass for Minho and Chan for a moment, unworried by the fact that he had been completely bare a few seconds ago.

Chan came closer and clapped his shoulder.

“Come on, Seungmin has standards,” he giggled.

Changbin turned, annoyed.

“I’m up to his standards!” he exclaimed, and turned back to Seungmin. “Right?”

Seungmin gulped. How had the conversation turned that way?

Of course he was. He was the whole reason Seungmin had been on the bleachers for the whole year in the first place, so he could look at Changbin three days a week as he fake-studied.

“No?” he answered.

Chan laughed hard, Minho harder.

“I like him,” Minho said. “He should come to your birthday party this year.”

“No?” Changbin repeated, as if he was still processing it. “Come here-”

Seungmin tried to fight, but he was just not strong enough to have any chance at winning.

Since that afternoon, they became closer, physically and otherwise.

One afternoon during those days that Changbin didn’t have to train, he came over to the bleachers.

“Why are you here when I am not?” he asked. He pressed an iced coffee to Seungmin’s side, making him squirm, then offered it to him before he could answer.

Seungmin took it and immediately did the same to Changbin’s neck, making them start a playful fight that had Seungmin's face pressed against the bench in seconds before Changbin let go.

“So?” Changbin asked. Seungmin really hoped he would have let it drop.

“I study here. I’m not here for you.”

“Liar,” Changbin snickered.

“Do you think you are the world’s belly button, Changbin?”

Changbin smirked, thought for a second.

“Not the world’s, but Min’s,” he answered, smiling widely, pressing his pointy finger into Seungmin’s belly button and making him whine and squirm away before he could swat his hand at Changbin’s arm, starting another fight.

──── ୨୧ ────

“Do you want to order dinner?” Changbin asked, dressed again after Seungmin dragged the duffel bag to the bathroom for him.

“It’s eleven p.m. I had dinner hours ago.”

“Ah, yeah, getting cheated on makes you lose track of time,” Changbin mumbled, trying to look pitiful as he dropped his weight on the couch.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, “Alright,” he whispered. 

“Do you still like kimchi jjigae?” Changbin asked.

──── ୨୧ ────

It was Seungmin’s first year of university. He didn’t know how to cook. Minho was pitiful enough not to cook for him unless Seungmin didn’t ask him or begged for it, never if Seungmin asked like a normal person; and so, most of the time, Seungmin found himself eating take-out.

Which was okay.

It really wasn’t.

“I’ll make you a dish, any dish.”

“Any dish?” Seungmin asked, raising his eyebrows.

He and Changbin had been studying in the library for five hours by then, and there was still a long way to go, but Changbin was getting tired, and he was trying to bargain for an early escape.

“Yes, come on! Just… let’s get out of here. I’m getting sick.”

“You don’t even know how to peel an egg, Bin. I don’t trust your cooking skills.”

Changbin rolled his eyes. He moved closer, putting his arms over the table to reach for Seungmin. He grabbed his hands and caressed Seungmin’s knuckles.

“Come on, baby, an easy dish then. You’ll be the first one to try Changbin’s restaurant-worthy food!”

“Baby?” Seungmin frowned. “You’re spending too much time with Jisung.” Changbin pouted, not letting go of his hands. “Alright, alright. Make me kimchi jjigae, even a kid can make that, yeah?”

Changbin nodded, enthusiastic.

Changbin was a year older, and he had his own apartment, all for himself; their parents would pay for it as long as he forgot about the ‘absurd idea’ of becoming a tattoo artist and kept studying medicine instead.

So when they destroyed his kitchen, it was only they who were affected.

“Let’s get takeaway,” Changbin mumbled, shamefully looking at the disaster.

“Yeah? You think this isn’t edible?”

“It was before you tried to put in cream!”

“Cream would go in just fine!”

“Seungmin!”

“So I am not ‘baby’ anymore?” Seungmin tried to tease.

“So you want to be ‘baby’?” Changbin replied, pointing his chin up.

He had planned to make Changbin snap just for fun, but suddenly, there was a tension that had only been there on rare occasions. Like at Changbin’s birthday party that year, when the bottle spun and matched them, and both froze until Chan laughed and spun it again as if it, for some reason, hadn’t been valid.

Changbin dropped out the next year.

──── ୨୧ ────

“This place’s food is always so good!” Changbin huffed when dinner was almost over.

“Are you sure the half bottle of wine you drank had nothing to do with it?”

“Hey, we had to finish it, or the bubbles would have disappeared,” Changbin teased. Seungmin shook his head in disbelief at Changbin’s stupid joke and finished his plate. “Thanks.”

“That’s what-” Seungmin bit his cheeks. “-acquaintances are for.”

“Is that what we are now, Min?”

“What do you mean? Don’t get all sappy now, Changbin…”

“You used to be my best friend,” Changbin sighed.

“Yeah? What a coincidence, you used to be mine.”

“So, really, what happened? Why did you stop talking to me after the wedding?”

Seungmin tried to get up, but Changbin had his wrist in a force grip against the table; he tried to shake it to no avail.

“What happened?” Seungmin muttered, his blood starting to boil. He bit his cheeks, but the pain only made him angrier. “Come on, Changbin!” he shouted, shaking his arm again.

“Yeah! Tell me!”

“Don’t be fucking dense,” Seungmin spat, stern, his chest heavy.

Changbin would not let him go, and Seungmin would not say a word more.

An unstoppable force against an immovable object, or something like that, Seungmin wasn’t the best of the two at science, so he bent down and put his teeth to Changbin’s skin, biting down until Changbin let go of his wrist.

“You- Animal-!”

He made his escape to the bedroom.

It took him a good ten minutes to stop seeing red, to stop frowning and biting his tongue out of rage. It took a couple of face-plants into the bed and silent screams for him to calm down enough to reach into the highest part of his wardrobe, get out a pillow and a couple of sheets and open the door to his room.

Changbin was standing in front of the couch, staring at the open door. 

“Seung-”

Seungmin threw him the pillow, then let the sheets fall to the floor.

“Good night,” he mumbled before closing the door.

He heard Changbin walking to the door, resting a hand against it.

“Good night, Minnie. I’m sorry,” he whispered against the cheap wood that Seungmin had gone looking for himself and had installed because it reminded him of the doors of Changbin’s university apartment, the last place he had been truly happy.

Changbin didn’t recognise them, he was sure, because for him it had been just one more place he had lived in, as easy to leave behind as Seungmin had been.

──── ୨୧ ────

When Seungmin woke up the next morning, it was still raining, probably even stronger than last night.

He looked at the ceiling and thought about it. It didn’t feel like it had been a dream, and the groans coming from the living room surely didn’t sound like a hallucination, more like Changbin had woken up early and was doing exercise in his living room.

Seungmin clicked his tongue, looked around for something to distract himself with, but his mind kept wandering back to him and to the dildo in the box of toys under his bed, so, instead of embarrassing himself further, he got out of the bed, sighing as he put on his flipflops, and looked at himself in the tiny, full-body mirror in his room.

It had been a present from Minho. He should call him. Tell him to take back the beefcake he called his friend, still, even when life had degraded Seungmin to a weird place between someone he used to know and something less.

“Rise and shine!” Changbin smiled from the floor, where he was doing push-ups.

“In my living room, really? Sweating all over my floor?”

“I’ll mop after. I was getting restless,” Changbin quickly responded. He didn’t look as cheerful as usual, though Seungmin's usual image of Changbin was a few years too old to use as a comparison.

“Alright. I’ll make breakfast, go shower,” Seungmin ended up muttering.

“Do you know how to make breakfast now?”

“Did you think I’d been living just with take-out all these years?”

Changbin shrugged, and Seungmin sighed, turning away, though he turned back to look at Changbin doing his last push-up before Changbin could catch his glance.

He had gotten bigger, probably hadn’t missed a gym day in years.

Seungmin made breakfast on autopilot, doubling the rations for his protein shake,  tofu, and seaweed soup, and cooking some rice too. He even tried to cut up an orange, though it came out looking like something that should be in a horror museum.

When he came back to the tiny living room slash dining room, Changbin was sitting in one of the chairs, curly, unruly hair falling over his eyes as he read something, glasses on.

“It’s upside down,” Seungmin joked, putting the plates down on the table.

Changbin looked at him and mumbled the words back, then giggled.

“What?” Seungmin asked, about to sit down, but stopped halfway there, hand in the chair.

“‘You can kiss me now.’” Changbin read out loud, looking at Seungmin like he was telling a joke.

“So you know how to read.”

“Ah, come on, Seungmin. I picked up this book yesterday, and I already know more about her than you…”

“You know more about my protagonist than I do?”

“Yeah! I know she wouldn’t say something like ‘you can kiss me now,’ obviously.”

“Yeah? And what would she say?” Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. She would tease him, make him snap.”

Seungmin laughed, finally deciding to put the chair back under the table and cross his arms, looking at Changbin like he was a very annoying teenager.

“She wouldn’t.”

“Just because you don’t know how to tease, doesn’t mean your character wouldn’t do it.”

“I, I, don’t know how to tease?” Seungmin said, pointing at his chest. He moved closer. They were just a few steps away, and Seungmin quickly saved them, putting himself right in front of Changbin, who turned in his chair, opening his legs in case Seungmin wanted to get closer. “Do you remember who I am?”

“Do I?”

“I used to drive you up the wall, Changbin,” Seungmin said, bending closer to Changbin, hovering right in front of his face. “Crazy.”

Seungmin remembered those days, the way his blood would start rushing when he saw Changbin’s lip trembling, the vein in his neck popping; it all indicated that he was close, so close, to getting his reward for working hard to make Changbin's afternoon just a little hellish.

“Did you?” Changbin asked. He licked his lips, and like a well-trained dog, Seungmin looked down as he mimicked it. 

Then a thunder broke. Seungmin got startled, he jumped back, and Changbin went with him, up, closer, grabbing his waist.

“Are you scared?”

“Just- it was a loud one,” Seungmin whispered, looking down at the big arm around his waist.

He had been told he had a tiny waist; he had always rolled his eyes at that; stupid men trying to flirt their way into his bed with cliché sentences, but with Changbin’s arm around it, it really looked tiny.

“You used to be a scaredy cat.”

“Me?” Seungmin scoffed. Changbin nodded, squeezing his waist. Seungmin raised his chin, a separation between Changbin and him, a reminder of the height difference he had once thought was ‘romantic’. “I remember watching horror films with you.”

“Yeah, and I was a pro, completely unscared.”

“You couldn’t look at the screen. Every time I looked at you, you were looking away.”

“Away?” Changbin echoed. His fingers moved from Seungmin’s side to the back of his waist, slowly letting him go, like he didn’t want to. “Or at you?”

Seungmin’s breath caught. Those movie nights started to play in quick succession in his head, like they had been doing for years.

Back then, when Seungmin thought about it, he told himself he had been hallucinating it, that he had been projecting his crush. Changbin was just scared; looking away from the TV, he would turn and look at the other side too if there was someone there, but it was just the two of them, curled together on the couch.

At you.

Seungmin had this weird condition. He was incapable of noticing someone liked him. Not because he didn’t think he was likeable, he knew he was, in theory.

Changbin was the class president, the team’s star player, popular, even good at arts for some weird reason.

He was kind and funny, and he had taken Seungmin under his wing, and would sometimes look him in the eyes, softly, warmly, and tell him things that made Seungmin’s stupid gay heart beat faster and faster.

“I wouldn’t want to keep living without you, Min,” he said once. And Seungmin had a knot in his throat for the rest of the week, his stomach in a twist. Hope, misery, love, whatever it was, it was drowning him.

“I can’t, I have plans with Min today,” he had told Chan and Minho more than once, leaving his friends alone to crash a party or go watch a match because Seungmin had told him to go study with him, or to watch a baseball match that Changbin still had no interest in at all.

Seungmin would catch Changbin looking at him, and Changbin would smile after each time.

And Seungmin would think, ‘I’m so glad at least I get to be his friend’.

A couple of words was all it took to break down Seungmin’s walls once again.

A thunder clap struck again, or maybe Changbin finally let go of his waist, whatever the reason, Seungmin was falling. Luckily for him, the chair caught his fall after Changbin quickly pulled it in place.

“You know what?” Changbin said before Seungmin could recover from his fall. “I think in payment for letting me stay, I’m going to help you make your scenes better. You’re clearly missing romance in your life.”

“Me?” Seungmin asked, looking up, frowning. “I am missing romance. You are going to help me? You?” Seungmin pointed at him. Changbin squared his jaw, his lip trembling a little. “And what the hell do you mean by ‘for letting me stay’? It was a one-night-only kind of deal, Changbin.”

“But…” Changbin pouted, sitting in the other chair, trying to look smaller. “Hotels are expensive, Min… And the rent for my tattoo studio is already so high…”

“A week,” Seungmin mumbled, giving in way too easily.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Changbin fell to his knees. Seungmin looked at him with horror. “I’m going to be such a good roommate. I’ll do the dishes and-”

“Yeah, yeah… You work on finding another place.”

“You want to get rid of me so badly again?” Changbin asked, looking pitiful on the floor.

“‘Again? When have I gotten rid of you before, hm?”

“After my wedding,” Changbin mumbled. Seungmin scoffed. “What happened back then, Min?”

Thunder. Lighting. Seungmin scoffed and looked at the window, dismissing him.

“Do you have to work today?” he asked, still looking away from Changbin.

“No, not today.”

“Hm… I see,” he whispered. “I have to. You can sit here, I’ll order something for lunch.”

Changbin nodded, helping himself with the chair to get up.

It felt like it was suddenly freezing.

──── ୨୧ ────

Morning went by quickly. Seungmin worked on his book, distracted. His mind went back to the living room again and again.

When he went out for lunch, a little too late, Changbin had ordered for both of them, and a couple of tattoo designs were scattered around the coffee table that had almost killed Seungmin the night prior.

Seungmin thought conversation would be awkward, but it wasn’t. Changbin asked about work, then about his family. He told him about his studio, and about how much quieter it was with Chan being away and Minho unable to visit.

He talked about his marriage, too, about the other times she had cheated and how he had been looking for a way out for years that wouldn’t get his parents angry; he had snapped last night, he wasn’t coming back, he was done.

Seungmin put a hand on his shoulder, then his head against it as Changbin kept talking. It felt natural, like they were back in high school or university, like time hadn’t gone by.

That afternoon, Changbin slipped into Seungmin’s office and sat in front of him in the chair Jeongin would use from time to time to stare at him, until he carved a hole in his forehead or Seungmin finished a chapter, whichever happened first.

“Do you even know how-”

“I’m working.”

“I’m trying to help. Do you know how being a bar singer works?”

“What? What book are you even reading?”

“The Rhythm of Us.”

“Oh god, that one is old.”

“Yeah, but you said you wanted to write a sequel in that interview last month. And you don’t even know how this shit works.”

Seungmin was shocked for a moment. Seungmin was a known writer but not that well-known. Changbin was talking about an interview that only someone following his career would know about.

He cleared his throat.

“How do you know?”

“Easy, I tried becoming one once,” Changbin shrugged, as if what he had said wasn’t just crazy.

“You?”

“What? Do you think I don’t know how to sing?” Changbin teased, his smile going as big as his tiny mouth could allow as he closed the book on his lap.

“Last time I heard you sing, I remember having to get my ears checked after,” Seungmin answered, smiling back.

Changbin rolled his eyes and closed the book, but he was still smiling.

“And I have never even heard you sing!”

“I took classes all through high school. You used to wait for me to finish so we could go back together,” Seungmin answered. For a moment, he was scared that Changbin had forgotten. He was always scared that Changbin would forget, even back then, when Changbin was late, even if it was only by a minute, Seungmin would already be taking a step out the door, convinced he wasn’t coming.

“But you never let me go inside! And you never participated in any recital.”

“So what? What does it all have to do with me writing a book? I have never fucked a woman either, and I write that in two out of every five of my books, Bin.”

“Whoa, whoa… Do you want me to give you tips on that, too?” Changbin asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Seungmin massaged his temples.

“I’m gay, Changbin,” he said, enunciating it as if Changbin hadn’t been the first person he had come out to, as if he hadn’t had his heart beating like crazy for a week after because Changbin had whispered back that he thought he liked men, too.

“You never know-”

“That’s homophobic!”

“I am joking! Come on… Seungmin, you used to be fun.”

“I used to be an idiot in-”

“In?”

“In high school.”

Changbin put the book down on a side table, got up and took big, comical steps to Seungmin’s desk chair. He put an arm around the back of it, over Seungmin’s shoulder, and made it turn towards him.

“I will take you to one of those bars with live music next Friday, what about that?”

“I like to spend my Fridays at home.”

“To make them different from all the other nights you spend at home?”

Seungmin pursed his lips; he had to give that to Changbin.

He ended up agreeing, and Changbin seemed a little too pleased, so, to make up for that, Seungmin decided to throw little pieces of a rubber he had in his desk in case he ever started writing with a pencil again, his way.

Changbin seemed confused at first, looking up and both sides to catch what was hitting him square in the forehead. It took him a good ten throws to finally realise what Seungmin was doing.

Seungmin giggled until Changbin got up, then he started laughing maniacally as Changbin tried to get his hands, finally gripping both wrists in a single hand so he could pry open Seungmin’s fingers with the other and take the rubber from him.

Time stopped. It was only a moment, but Changbin was so close, and it had been so easy for him to manhandle him, get him immobilised. He felt his cock twitching, starting to fill up, and he cursed under his breath. If Changbin noticed, he would just jump out the window right that moment, but Changbin was too satisfied having solved the mystery and addressed the issue to notice anything as he walked back to the armchair, flipping the rubber in his hand.

Trying to concentrate again with a hard-on was a lot more difficult than Seungmin remembered.

He thought of using the moment to write the most erotic part of the book, but he wasn’t ready to talk about dicks getting hard or pussies getting wet with Changbin sitting a mere three meters away from him.

What was worse, he just realised that if Changbin kept on reading, he would find Seungmin’s erotic writing.

Seungmin plugged in his earphones and tried to forget about his inevitable doom as he bounced his leg.

Sadly, he caught the moment Changbin’s eyes widened when he got to that part. He shifted in the chair uncomfortably, tugged the neckline of his t-shirt, and, finally, cleared his throat and flipped until the scene was over.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went back to work.

──── ୨୧ ────

On Sunday, Changbin was gone for most of the day to grab the rest of his things from his house.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

Changbin scoffed as he put on his leather jacket.

“You wouldn’t be able to lift a box,” he said.

“I meant as emotional support. I’m not lifting any of your boxes.”

“No, I… I think I have to do this alone. Should have done it years ago,” he answered, more serious than he had been all weekend, and with that, he was gone.

Seungmin used that time to text Chan and let him know Changbin was at his home. Chan sounded amused by it, far more than he should be. 

Then, he took a walk and saw a small carnival, which reminded him of the one he had gone with Changbin right before he proposed to his girlfriend.

──── ୨୧ ────

“Come on, Seungmin-”

“I told you no. Take her.”

“She’s scared of heights and doesn’t like busy places.”

“I don’t like busy places either,” Seungmin muttered. He was putting his jacket on already.

“But you like your hyung enough that it doesn’t matter!” Changbin smiled, hugging Seungmin with only one arm.

“And she doesn’t?” Seungmin asked. Changbin never answered, he just pouted until Seungmin was saying, “Alright, but I want a large fries and takoyaki, and-”

“Yes, yes, whatever you want, puppy.”

“And stop calling me that, people think we are going out.”

Changbin smiled, took his hand and dragged him outside. He didn’t let go of his hand as they walked down the street, and Seungmin found himself bumping against his side from time to time, happy, giggling at Changbin’s anecdote about a football match Seungmin had missed because Changbin’s girlfriend was going to be there, and he didn’t have the energy to pretend he liked her.

Seungmin got his fries,his takoyaki, and a stick of cotton candy as dessert. Changbin tried winning him a big dog plushie, but his aim was shit.

“I understand why she didn’t want to come with you.”

“Aish, Min, so mean.”

“I’m not mean, I’m just saying the truth, you are bad, bad at these games, man.”

“I’ll give you ‘bad, bad’,” Changbin mumbled, taking Seungmin’s cotton candy from him and putting it behind his back, stepping forward right into Seungmin’s personal space.

Seungmin marched back, just a few steps, but he bumped into a lamppost. Changbin wasn’t intimidating; he was soft, short, cheerful, but he looked the part when Seungmin wanted him to play his games. He looked big, strong and mean when his hand came up and grabbed Seungmin’s wrist and pulled them over Seungmin’s head, pressing him against the lamppost and making his breath hitch.

Changbin took in a long breath. Seungmin's eyes darted down to his lips, then lower. He swallowed. What was he trying to see? Of course, Changbin wouldn’t be hard like he was the moment he touched him. His eyes snapped back up.

“Know your place, puppy,” Changbin whispered. Seungmin would have laughed any other time, straight up laughed and destroyed the moment, but maybe that time, he knew that the end was near, because he had seen Changbin’s grandma’s ring in his dresser a couple of hours before they left for the fair.

So instead of laughing, he giggled, soft, teasing.

“And where is that, hm?” He tried, tilting his chin up, playing on those inches he had on Changbin like he always liked to do.

Changbin squared his jaw.

“Open up.”

The glint in Seungmin’s eyes was brighter than the fairy lights hanging all over the fair.

He opened his mouth slowly, dropping his lower lip, the tip of his tongue over his teeth. Changbin smiled, then pressed the cotton candy against his mouth.

“Good puppy, eat this. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Seungmin grabbed the stick just quick enough for it not to fall to the ground.

The fair was a weird place. The humidity from the river was everywhere; couples were laughing like they were kids; someone was crying in the distance; he was still too close to the firing attraction and he was startled by each airgunshot. It all should remind him of his childhood, but he couldn’t recall a single memory. All he could think about was Changbin.

He came back five minutes later, like he had promised, with the big dog in between his arms.

“Here you go. Don’t whine anymore.”

“Did you win it?”

“You could say that.” Seungmin frowned, taking the dog. He already had a name for it. Changbin sighed, knowing Seungmin wouldn’t drop the subject. “I bought it.”

“You can’t buy it.”

“With enough money, you can.”

“Did you- why?”

Changbin shrugged.

Ah. A goodbye gift. The last puppy cup before putting him down.

“Do you want to go on the ferris wheel?”

Seungmin didn’t want to. He nodded. 

──── ୨୧ ────

Changbin was back at six in the afternoon. Seungmin had had time to go down to his little storage room and pick up the big dog Changbin had gifted him that night. He should have left it behind a few moves ago.

Chan had laughed a little when he had seen it for the first time when Seungmin moved out of university, asking if an ex-boyfriend had gifted it to him. Seungmin knew he didn’t have the right to say yes, so he shook his head and took it, walked with it to the curb, as if he really was going to get rid of it, then walked it back to the moving van.

“How was it?” Seungmin asked.

“Hm… I think getting my balls cut off would have hurt less, but, yeah, it’s done. We even talked about the divorce papers,” Changbin answered. He put down a box he had been carrying and closed the door behind himself.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’?”

“You’ve had that house for, what, more than five years? And you only have a box and a duffel bag?”

“Hm, yeah? What do you want me to have? I… I didn’t get the food or cleaning products; I thought that was too pitiful.”

“Don’t you have like- things?” Seungmin asked, coming closer to the box. It was a big box, yes, but not big enough to fit years in it. Was it? Seungmin had needed a van for all of his moves.

“I have things!” Changbin whined, pointing at the box.

“Do you have like three t-shirts and two jeans and… a football?”

“Yes?”

“I was joking, Changbin. What I meant is-” Changbin rolled his eyes. “-What about your work things, your… pyjamas? Some memories?”

“My work stuff is at work, Min. My pyjamas are in the duffle bag, and my memory is in my head, duh.”

“Duh,” Seungmin mocked, when he had wanted to yell ‘I have a fucking gigantic dog and you didn’t even keep the Badtz-Maru figurine I gifted you?’.

“Seungmin,” Changbin warned, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just saying you’ve been living like a depressing bachelor all these years-”

Seungmin couldn’t keep teasing because he was pushed back and away from the box.

“You really don’t know when to stop,” Changbin muttered as he pressed Seungmin against the back of the couch, making him bend back as he towered over him.

“I do know when to stop.”

“Brat.”

Less than two days since their reencounter.

Seven years, four months and around two weeks since the last time Changbin had called him that.

Seungmin grinned. Changbin pressed closer to him, getting between his legs. Seungmin really hoped he had jerked off while Changbin wasn’t home.

 “You got nothing to say now, Min?”

Seungmin gulped. He did have something he wanted to say, but Changbin had just come back from getting his box of things from his cheating wife’s house, and he wasn’t sure he would appreciate a softly muttered ‘fuck me’.

He looked down, a trained response, but before he could confirm or deny anything, Changbin stepped closer, pushing against him, his crotch against his, a hand in the back of the couch, next to Seungmin’s hip, the other down in the cushions of the couch.

Maybe he would appreciate it.

Changbin was hard, pressing against him, letting hot puffs of air fall over Seungmin’s lips. Teasing him back, calling him a brat, waiting for him to answer.

Seungmin licked his lips.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.

The moment was destroyed like it had been made out of paper and already shattered glass.

What an idiot.

Changbin blinked and stepped back.

──── ୨୧ ────

Changbin had to work on Monday, and on Tuesday, he took Seungmin with him to the studio.

“It’s going to do you some good to leave the house, Min.”

“I think having a routine helps me write.”

“Hm,” Changbin nodded, putting on his leather jacket, and throwing Seungmin his long coat. “And your editor wouldn’t know where you are.”

Seungmin had never gotten faster in a car.

“A fucking sports car? Are you having a midlife crisis, Changbin?”

“Hey, I married the girl they wanted. The least they could do is let me buy a car.” Seungmin giggled at his answer, and Changbin started laughing with him.

Changbin studio was big, ample, spacious. It was minimalistic too, like the man himself, but it looked artist-y.

“Hyunjin’s to thank for that,” Changbin explained when Seungmin pointed at the art on the walls. “I think you’ll like him.”

“Is he coming today?”

Changbin nodded. “This afternoon. I have two appointments this morning. I prefer to get them done early. Chan usually doesn’t work until five p.m., Hyunjin is a wild card.”

Seungmin nodded, distracted as he wandered around.

“You can sit at Chan’s desk; he’s not coming by anytime soon,” Changbin told him, but Seungmin didn’t answer, still wandering. Changbin got behind him without Seungmin noticing as he was examining one of the art pieces hanging from the wall. “Boo!” Seungmin jumped back, right into Changbin’s chest. “You’re so easy,” he giggled as he moved back.

Seungmin blushed. He didn’t know half of it.

“My client will be here in ten. If you need anything, just knock on my door, yeah, Min?”

“A billion-”

“Don’t test my patience this early in the morning,” Changbin interrupted.

Seungmin smiled. He let Changbin go, looking at him as he did so, then he sat down at Chan’s desk, but he didn’t even open the computer when the shelf full of binders caught his attention.

Most were full of collages and cutouts. Then, he found one that seemed a little more personal, some cute calligraphy practice. Chan, of course, was a sap, so all the calligraphy practice was Minho’s name, and words like ‘love’ and ‘family’, in different fonts.

Seungmin got tired after reading a hundred ‘Minho’s, and went for the next binder, leaving the other two he had read on the desk.

The last one was for Chan’s designs; he was looking over them when Changbin knocked on the door and came in.

“Oh, weren’t you supposed to be writing?”

“I told you disturbing my routine was a bad idea,” Seungmin shrugged. “Do you have binders, too?”

“Yeah, some.”

“I want to see them.”

“Hm… what if I say no?”

“Then I won’t see them.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, and Seungmin smiled, satisfied that he had won the game without letting Changbin even start it.

“Come on, I’ll show you. It’s still a good half an hour till my next client anyway.”

Seungmin followed him to his studio.

“Take a seat,” he said, pointing at the client’s chair.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, but he sat down. A couple of seconds later, he had his lap full of binders.

“‘Some’?”

“Yeah, some,” Changbin repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Seungmin started to flip through them as Changbin explained the different styles calmly, pointing out more things about the ones Seungmin seemed to like, and Seungmin started to melt slowly into his side, like he used to do before.

After the first binder was over, Changbin’s client was already supposed to be there, but they weren’t, and so Seungmin asked.

“Do you have calligraphy one?”

“Hm?”

“I saw Chan’s calligraphy practice. I remember your handwriting being shitty in high school. I want to see if it’s any better.”

“Of course it’s better! It was better already during university, don’t you remember?”

“Man, I was too scared to ask for your notes. I don’t remember,” Seungmin teased. “So, do you have one?”

Changbin mumbled a “yes.” Seungmin was surprised that Changbin didn’t get up to get it and flex his handwriting.

“Do you have it here?” Changbin hummed as an answer, noncommittal. “What? Is it- Oh.” Seungmin stopped himself, shutting up.

Minho’s name.

It made sense that Changbin’s was full of his ex’s name if Chan’s was full of Minho’s. 

Seungmin bit his own tongue; he kept messing it up.

“I can show you. Just… don’t laugh.”

“No,” Seungmin mumbled. “It’s okay. I just- Yeah. You don’t have to. Isn’t your client supposed to be here already anyway?” Seungmin asked, putting the binders in the chair and jumping off.

“Ah, yeah. Where the hell is she?”

Seungmin used the distraction to put the binders back as Changbin checked his messages. After a couple of minutes, Changbin groaned.

“She’s not coming.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, an emergency, she told me ten minutes ago. Ah… this job… I could have scheduled the other client for tomorrow and stayed home… her tattoo would take like… at least three hours, it’s the whole reason I came here this morning.”

Changbin seemed more frustrated with each new realisation. Seungmin put a hand on his shoulder, and Changbin half-smiled.

“Anyway… Do you want a free tattoo?” Changbin suddenly asked, pocketing his phone and raising an eyebrow.

“Eh?” Seungmin tried to take a step back, but Changbin’s hand was already on his back, keeping him in place.

“Have you never thought about it?”

“Getting a tattoo? No, I have never.”

“Hm… I have,” Changbin answered.

His eyes roamed Seungmin’s body, making him feel naked. It wasn’t just looking, but examining, all the way from Seungmin’s exposed neck over his polo, all the way down his arms. Changbin turned his wrist, bringing one so close to his face that Seungmin thought he was going to kiss it. Then, he let it go and moved his eyes back up to Seungmin’s collarbones, covered, and down his chest and stomach. Changbin smiled, that downturned smile that Seungmin had looked for in other men for years. He grabbed the hem of Seungmin’s shirt and polo and pulled them up.

“Hey!”

“I have thought about where it would look better. What about here?” he said, tracing the uncovered path of skin alongside the side of Seungmin’s stomach, all the way up his ribs.

“Changbin-”

“Or…” he let go of the clothes, making them fall into place hazardously. He pressed his hand lower on Seungmin’s back, then wiggled his fingers until he got a hold of the clothes again and raised them. Seungmin was about to protest when Changbin spun him around, pressing his other hand between Seungmin’s shoulders and making him bend forward suddenly. “Here, on your lower back.”

Changbin’s fingers felt like ice gracing his sensitive skin, making Seungmin shiver. His hands were rough, probably because he didn’t always use gloves when he trained at the gym. Seungmin could feel each callus against his skin.

“N- no,” Seungmin mumbled.

Changbin let go of him, and Seungmin decided not to turn around was the safe decision.

“Let me know if you change your mind, hm?” Changbin whispered, stepping away. He turned quickly when Seungmin finally tried to face him again. “Let’s get something for lunch, yeah? There’s a cool place close by, do you still like-”

“I still like all the same things.”

“All?” Changbin asked, turning slowly. It felt like a stupid game, because the moment he did, Seungmin turned away once more, blushing and covering his crotch. Changbin swallowed. “Let me go to the toilet first, then we are good to go.”

Seungmin hummed. He relaxed his shoulders once Changbin was out of the room. The studio didn’t have a lot inside. The most curious thing was still the shelves, and in Changbin’s there was only a binder left, the one Changbin hadn’t brought to the chair.

He moved over to it, caressed the spine. Changbin hadn’t been opposed to showing it to him; he had just told him not to laugh.

A part of him knew he still shouldn’t open it. Another one really wanted to hurt itself.

So he opened the binder, thinking he would find Changbin’s wife’s name all over it.

The first few pages were simple words, some of the most tattooed biblical verses, and dates.

Then, he found a page. The date on top of the page went all the way back to when Seungmin was still in college.

It was his name.

Again and again. In different sizes, different fonts, with and without his surname. 

Seungmin swallowed, tracing the lines with his finger. There were a few other words around the page, dispersed, in the tiniest of fonts, ‘love’, ‘hope’...

Seungmin turned the page.

A single name. Just one word. The rest of the page was completely empty. Changbin’s wife stood alone, unfinished.

Seungmin looked at it and didn’t find a date on the page. It didn’t matter anymore, did it?

He went to the next page.

His heart shook, knocking his rib cage.

Again, his name, a date, a few years back, after Changbin’s wedding. The next page was the same, and the next after. It looked almost obsessive. The name was framed, as Minho’s had been in Chan’s binder, by other studies, sappy sentences, and some other words; but it was clear that there were a couple of words that could give a topic to that binder.

Kim

“Seungmin?” Changbin asked.

Seungmin dropped the binder and yelled when it hit his foot. Changbin was there in a moment, reaching for the binder at the same time Seungmin did.

Their eyes locked at the same time their hands touched. 

That was the moment, right?

The revelation, the final line to cross, the moment Seungmin’s heart would finally calm down, the words should come, not easy, but at least come.

“Let’s go,” Changbin whispered, taking the binder from Seungmin’s hands. “It’s not too far away!” he smiled.

──── ୨୧ ────

Lunch was alright; however, dinner the next day was a complete absurdity.

“Min, I told you I would show you romance for your novels, so let me take you out.”

“You just want to try the restaurant. Do you even have money?”

“I have money!”

“Then why are you still freeloading at my house, hm?” Seungmin squinted, pointing at him. Changbin took his finger with his whole hand and twisted. Seungmin yelled and Changbin let go.

They ended up at the restaurant that afternoon.

“Put your hand on the table.”

“Why?”

“For romance, baby.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes as hard as he could.

“Do you want me to write something like ‘he put his hand on the table for romance’? Have you ever read a book?”

“Hey, I’ve read two of yours these past few days. And let me tell you… they are… spicy.”

“Oh god, shut up, please,” Seungmin answered, and to make sure he did, he put his hand on the table. Changbin smiled, taking it under his.

Before Seungmin could protest further, the waiter showed up, and Changbin requested ‘The most expensive wine’.

“Most male leads are CEOs so-”

“But you aren’t!” Seungmin said through his teeth. “I am not paying for it!”

“Hm. Then we will have to do an eat and run.”

“Changbin!”

Changbin laughed, kicking Seungmin under the table playfully.

Seungmin gasped, but kicked back with more force. It got out of hand quickly. Seungmin knew he didn’t have strength in his favour, but he had height, and he used it to kick higher. His strategy had to change when Changbin moved the chair away, dragging it from the table.

He grabbed one of Changbin’s feet with his own feet and tried to pull out his shoe.

“Seungmin!” Changbin hissed through his teeth, gripping the edge of the table as if that would prevent his shoe from falling off.

Right before Seungmin could accomplish it, Changbin dragged his chair under the table again, grabbing Seungmin's nape and bringing him low on the table.

“You little brat-”

New record.

The waiter cleared his throat. Both looked up. Changbin let go of Seungmin’s nape, and both started laughing the moment the waiter was gone.

──── ୨୧ ────

Friday finally arrived, and by then, Seungmin had forgotten about Changbin wanting to take him anywhere.

“I still prefer a cosy night in,” Seungmin groaned, already putting on his jacket. “And I already wrote that scene and published it, so I don’t really get how it-”

“Come on, Min. Live a little,” Changbin answered, interrupting Seungmin’s protests. He grabbed his nape, much softer than at that restaurant, massaging it. “It’s going to be fun.”

Seungmin sighed, but he let himself be led out of the door, Changbin’s hand still massaging his nape as they took the elevator.

Seungmin turned to look at themselves in the mirror. They almost looked like a couple. He looked back at Changbin through the mirror; he was looking at their reflection, too. They made eye contact, holding it much more easily when it wasn’t direct.

The elevator rang, and the doors opened. Changbin cleared his throat and looked for his keys like they weren’t dangling attached to one of his belt loops.

“It’s a nice place, right?” Changbin asked once they found a table inside the bar. Seungmin wanted to argue, just because he really had wanted to stay home. He didn’t want to see any aspiring singers trying their luck; he had hated writing that stupid book in the first place. It felt a little too personal in a way.

The protagonist had a dream, no one was on her side, and then came that beefy guy, who was supposed to be only a dumb man but was the only one who understood her.

Changbin went with him to tryouts for the university’s baseball team; he was the only one of his friends who knew Seungmin was still trying. He told Seungmin to stand up to his parents and that he would ‘take him in’ if necessary.

Seungmin told him he should stand up to his own parents about that girlfriend, too.

They never talked about that again.

The girl got both her dream and the boy at the end.

Seungmin got a best seller.

“It’s a nice place,” he answered, taking a seat. Changbin smiled and, cliché enough, the room seemed brighter.

“Don’t try the piña coladas here, they suck,” he said, bumping against him.

Seungmin bumped back, and it went back and forth for a while, until Seungmin rested his head on Changbin’s shoulder, and Changbin just let him lie there as he sipped his drink.

The night was mellow and just bright enough. The air was warm, and the voices were louder than Seungmin liked them, but Changbin was wearing that cologne he had picked up for the first time with Seungmin by his side during his first year of college, and it dulled out anything else.

The alcohol wasn’t strong, but the glasses didn’t stop coming one after the other, different fruity drinks that Changbin would sip first, ‘to make sure they are good’, and then bring to Seungmin’s lips, looking at his eyes as he tipped the glass just slightly upwards, and dropping the gaze to Seungmin’s top lip, resting softly on the rim of the glass, as the liquor went down.

“It’s almost our turn,” Changbin said.

Seungmin didn’t register it, smiling sheepishly and nodding, rubbing the side of his face against Changbin’s shoulder. Then he analysed the words, and remembered that Changbin couldn’t be reading his mind, and thus, he wasn’t thinking about them getting together.

“What?” he mumbled, almost choking on his fruity saliva.

“I wrote us in, we are next in line,” Changbin smiled.

“What?” Seungmin shouted, a couple of people turned to him, the current singer’s voice wavered, and Changbin tried to cover his mouth, but Seungmin pried his hands away. “What the hell do you mean, Changbin?” Seungmin muttered.

“I mean that I put us on the list. Don’t worry, I told the owner we aren’t that serious. He said-”

“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you, and then I’ll kill Chan and Minho for not taking you in. And then-”

“Whoa, you are going to make two little girls orphans?”

“Don’t get this wrong, Changbin, all of this is going to be your fault!” Seungmin muttered, stabbing Changbin in the chest with a finger repeatedly.

“Come on, Min,” Changbin said, taking the finger in his hand and stopping the painful attack. “It’s going to be fine, I’ll be there. It’ll be a little funny, and you’ll get some inspiration.”

“I don’t need inspiration! I have plenty of inspiration!”

“I haven’t seen you writing at all since last weekend.”

“Because you keep distracting me!”

“Oh, do I-”

“Yes! Yes! You are so annoying and- And!”

Changbin laughed. “Damn, you’re so much easier to annoy now that you are older, Min.”

Seungmin took in a deep breath, and suddenly, as Changbin stood up and guided him to the stairs to the little stage, no more than two square meters big, it all seemed funnier. He started to laugh maniacally.

Maybe he was losing his mind.

“I remember your go-to at karaoke,” Changbin whispered in his ear, caressing his back in an attempt to calm him down before they went upstairs.

Seungmin scoffed.

“Did thinking about me this much distract you over the years, Bin?” he teased.

“A lot.”

Changbin’s gaze burned. There was no joke in his words, no teasing back. A confession, one more.

Seungmin tried to look away, but for a moment, he couldn’t. His eyes dropped to Changbin’s lips, then his neck, his Adam’s apple, the shape of it, the thought of moving forward and putting his lips over it, then moving upwards, or downwards, he didn’t care as long as he could be attached to Changbin’s body in any way.

“Come on, baby,” Changbin instigated one last time, pushing Seungmin’s lower back towards the front mic.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, but he went.

He grabbed the mic with both hands.

The music started. He had only a couple of seconds to try to remember the lyrics and decide if he wanted to make a fool of himself in one way or the other.

He could either sing like he had never sung before in his life, and look at the awkward smiles and get his compensatory applause after an awful performance; or, he could try to remember in a split second what he had learnt at his singing lessons more than ten years ago, what he practiced in the mirror sometimes when writing wasn’t going alright, and, instead, get some frowns and probably even weirder looks, and get silence instead of an applause.

At least, he would remind Changbin of those rainy days he had accompanied him to class, of that time they sat face to face, as Seungmin told him how to open his vocal cords, how to enunciate while singing, how to hit some notes.

All he could think about, anyway, was that Changbin still remembered his karaoke go-to.

He made his decision.

He sang.

Closed his eyes and sang and let the well-practised words flow through him.

He opened his eyes again, and everyone was looking at him. The chorus dropped, and his words got a harmony.

He turned back, looked at Changbin behind him, harmonising with him like he had been doing it for years, timid, but right there. His smile widened, Changbin blushed, his ears angry red.

The song ended before Seungmin could notice his hands were trembling.

“Fuck!”

Not exactly the word Seungmin had thought he would hear by the end of it all, but Changbin sounded ecstatic, his eyes were glistening under the warm lights.

“You sound like an angel, Min. That was- That was amazing!” Changbin kept praising him as they went downstairs. “How come you never tried to-”

“I’m just average, Changbin.”

“Average? I tell you, Min, you sound like an angel.”

Seungmin shook his head. Changbin spun him around, crowded him against a wall so they wouldn’t be in the middle of the path to the stage. He gripped Seungmin’s shoulders.

“Look me in the eyes, Min.” Seungmin didn’t. Changbin grabbed his chin, making him look down at him. “Your voice is… amazing. So soft, so full, romantic.”

“You know nothing about singing, Bin,” Seungmin muttered, raising both eyebrows and crossing his arms.

“I know what I like, Min,” Changbin answered. Someone passed behind him and made him move closer, bumping against Seungmin’s arms.

“Do you?”

Changbin nodded, like he couldn’t read what Seungmin was really asking.

“And I like you,” Changbin answered. “You can be a writer and a-”

It didn’t matter. Whatever Changbin had said after that, whatever he kept on saying, it didn’t matter, because Seungmin’s mind had gone blank for an instant, then, filled with only one thought.

What he could have given to have heard those words when he was still young and stupid and thought there was a universe in which Changbin really liked him back.

When Changbin’s monologue was over, he sighed.

“Fuck, I don’t usually like to talk that much,” he said. Seungmin scoffed. “Do you want to have another drink?”

Seungmin had only ever wanted one other thing more than that.

The alcohol in Seungmin’s glass got harder as the night went on. The bar owner approached them, talked to Seungmin about coming back someday, smiling and resting against the table, and ordered them another drink.

It looked like Changbin wasn’t entirely okay with it, or maybe Seungmin dreamed it, because when he was back in Changbin’s car, he also remembered having Changbin’s hand on his thigh, and that definitely was a fantasy he had had before.

“You did so well tonight, Min,” Changbin said, closing the front door to Seungmin’s apartment. Seungmin must have fallen asleep on the ride back.

Seungmin turned around, and that time it was him cornering Changbin against the wall. Changbin smiled, tried to move him away, but Seungmin didn’t go.

“Did I?” he asked, looking at him with bright, sad eyes, open to their fullest, mouth slightly turned down.

“Of course you did, Min. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Seungmin scoffed. “You would,” he said, his pout getting deeper.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Changbin whispered, tucking Seungmin’s hair behind his ear, as if it was long enough for him to do so.

Seungmin turned to the side, kissed the interior of Changbin’s wrist before he could move it away.

“Min-”

Seungmin was quick. Thanks to the alcohol, or maybe the wait. It was a broken culmination that he was sure he would regret in the morning.

He kissed Changbin, a peck, made Changbin move back and knocked his head against the door as he put his hands on Seungmin and pushed him back slightly.

His mouth was so small, his lips plump, they didn’t exactly fit against Seungmin’s.

“Min, you are drunk.”

“I know,” Seungmin whispered, and pushed forward again, with no place to run to, Changbin just closed his eyes, his hands gripping Seungmin’s dishevelled shirt tightly, and then, before Seungmin could touch his lips like he was dying to do, Changbin pulled him closer, kissed him back.

It was way better like that. Seungmin gasped, Changbin got his lip perfectly positioned in between Seungmin’s just for a moment, before he moved and kissed him again, moving against him only an instant before he pushed away.

“Min… You’re very drunk.”

Seungmin looked at him, at his soft, big eyes and softer, small mouth. He touched his. Then blinked and covered it. He nodded, stepped back, and a second later, he was running to hide in his room.

──── ୨୧ ────

Seungmin woke up on Saturday with a hangover worse than any he had had over the last six years. He hit his head against the pillow until he felt like his brain was going to slip out of his ear in slushy form.

He suspected Changbin would be gone, but his heart sank when he discovered that he really wasn’t home.

Though it didn’t last long.

“Sleeping beauty is up!”

“Shut up,” Seungmin whined. Even the door opening had been too much noise, Changbin’s voice was definitely a thousand decibels louder than Seungmin could bear that morning.

“Aw, no morning kiss for me?”

Seungmin blushed. He froze in the chair, holding his cup of coffee like it wasn’t burning.

Changbin laughed, clapped his shoulder and went to shower after his morning gym session.

Seungmin couldn’t write at all that day, too hungover and too worried about what he had done and the fact that Changbin was treating it like it had been… well, a drunk kiss, which was what it had been.

After lunch, which Seungmin only had because Changbin started lecturing him about the importance of nutrition as he reached forward to pinch the skin on his stomach and looked at him like a sad dog, telling him he definitely needed the calories, they sat on the couch.

“It’s a really good drama,” Changbin said, turning on the TV.

“You watch dramas?”

“What? Of course,” Changbin frowned. He pinched Seungmin's side, and Seungmin pushed him away before getting his legs up on the couch and hugging them. “It’s like when we were in uni, and you were surprised that I knew how to dance.”

Seungmin shrugged.

That night, they had danced in Changbin’s apartment, giggling and stepping on each other's feet. Then Changbin had told him his real mastery lay in girl groups’ dances, and Seungmin had laughed so hard he had bent over, but Changbin hadn’t been lying, oh no, that image of Changbin swaying his hips had been living in his mind rent-free since then.

“Being a brat makes you ugly, Min,” Changbin whined, pouting a little.

Seungmin looked at him, frowned a little, and started a pout face-off.

“So you think I’m ugly?”

“Yeah,” Changbin answered, crossing his arms.

Seungmin did too, bracing his legs.

“Even when I do this?”

Seungmin knew he was old, old enough to be married and have a kid, old enough not to try and make cute faces to his… friend, but he still remembered the way Changbin used to melt when he did, and he had to give it a try.

And it worked.

Perfectly.

Changbin’s whole face changed the moment Seungmin poked his cheek, pouting his lips and making sad eyebrows. He was a blushing mess, and Seungmin was close to one, too.

Changbin made a high-pitched sound, and the next thing he knew, Seungmin was getting his cheek pinched and stretched, and he was pulled face-first into Changbin’s soft chest.

“Stop that!” Changbin whined. “So cute.”

Seungmin smirked, satisfied.

It was silly, but it made his heart feel full.

They started the drama, and by chapter four, Seungmin was a crying mess, blowing tissues, red nose and puffy eyes, and Changbin kept caressing his head and cooing at him. 

They called it off after dinner, but Sunday was spent in a similar manner. With Seungmin secured against Changbin’s side, his big arm around him, pressing him to his shoulder, his chest, or, during Sunday’s afternoon, his lap; caressing his cheek, massaging his nape sometimes.

Seungmin grabbed his hand at some point while he was lying on his lap and started to play with his fingers. Changbin played back, twisting his pinky around Seungmin’s fingers, while he watched the show, but suddenly he felt his hand fall dead, and Seungmin got a little worried; when he looked up, he had fallen asleep.

It was around nap time anyway, so Seungmin curled himself a little and let himself fall asleep with him.

When they woke up, it was almost dinner time.

──── ୨୧ ────

“One more day! That’s all I’m asking! I’m never out of-”

Seungmin paced the living room. He had gotten out of his studio fifteen minutes before, so worked up by his editor that he kept tugging the neck of his t-shirt, throwing his arms to the air and pinching the bridge of his nose so hard that there was a tiny mark forming there.

“Jeongin. I will have it ready for tomorrow. No! No! Don’t come over!”

Seungmin groaned. He looked like he was going to throw his phone out the window, but instead, he bit his own knuckles and pouted.

“Hard day at the office, baby?” Changbin asked from the couch, where he had been practising some drawing as an excuse to eavesdrop on the argument, and drawing some flowers was as good as any.

“Shut up!” Seungmin answered, pointing at Changbin with his phone. “This is all your fault!”

“Mine?”

“Yeah! If you hadn’t given me a headache all Saturday-”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one drinking all that alcohol-”

“And then made me sleep away half of Sunday-”

“You don’t even write on Sundays!”

“I would have had this chapter done days ago! So it is your fault! Now Jeongin is coming over! And he will see your things, and look at me with a raised eyebrow, and say something like ‘hyung, I didn’t know you moved so fast, you should do the same with your books-”

“That Jeongin guy sounds funny.”

“Shut up!” Seungmin yelled again. “I’m going to my studio, I’m going to be writing all day. Don’t bother me! If the house is burning, don’t tell me! Let the flames get me!”

“Yes, sir,” Changbin saluted.

Oh.

Seungmin was too angry to think about how that made him feel.

Changbin said goodbye before leaving, and twenty minutes later, Jeongin was there, sitting in his chair with a raised eyebrow.

“Say it.”

“I don’t have anything to say. Write.”

That somehow made Seungmin even more annoyed than if Jeongin had said anything.

A couple of hours later, Seungmin was ready to close his laptop forever, but that was not an option, and the fox-like eyes were still staring at him blinklessly, so he kept going, and going, and going.

Changbin came back, but he didn’t even knock on the studio’s door to say he was home, respecting Seungmin’s work.

It was six p.m. when Jeongin left, looking Changbin up and down and shaking his head before leaving.

“Wow,” Changbin mumbled, offended, before he made his way to Seungmin’s studio.

Seungmin almost knocked his head against the table, thinking Jeongin was back, but he wasn’t; it was just Changbin. Changbin with a compression t-shirt on, his glasses and curly hair. He was wearing a wristband and somehow that made him even sexier.

“He seems… disciplined,” Changbin mumbled. Seungmin scoffed. “Do you need anything?” he asked. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes, daddy,” Seungmin mocked.

Changbin shook his head a little and came closer.

“I’m just trying to help, brat. Want a massage?”

“Want you to twist my neck off.”

“Can’t do. I can’t keep living here if you’re dead.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, but finally he nodded. Changbin made him stand up and go to the living room, sitting him in one of the dining chairs turned around.

“You worked hard today, Min,” Changbin whispered, close to Seungmin’s ear, but not there exactly. Seungmin's whole body trembled, and Changbin used that moment to put his hands on his shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”

“Just give me the damn massage.”

“Bossy,” Changbin whispered again, but he started moving his hands.

A strong hold on Seungmin’s shoulders, he dug his thumbs in first, making Seungmin straighten his back, then he started rolling his wrist. Seungmin thought for a moment that Changbin already used his hands a lot daily; maybe he shouldn’t have let him give him a massage, that was selfish.

But then, Changbin ran his thumbs against the edges of his shoulder blades and Seungmin let out a gasp and forgot how to think.

Changbin kept moving, applying the right amount of pressure down Seungmin’s spine, finding knots alongside his back and working them until Seungmin was whining. He went all the way down to his lower back, pressing his knuckles against it and rolling the stress away, making it fall down the edges of Seungmin’s boney body, then moved back to the middle, up his spine again.

Time seemed to have completely stopped as Changbin moved. At the back of his mind, Seungmin knew he had to get back to work, but his body felt like putty, and he couldn’t move.

Changbin got back up, all the way to his nape, and pressed his thumbs together, pinching the skin in the middle like he was scuffing a cat, and then his hands, open to the sides of Seungmin’s neck like wings, closed against it, surrounding it.

Seungmin moaned.

He had been doing so well during the massage, making sure to only let out soft gasps and whiny sounds that could be understood as flashes of pain, but when he felt Changbin’s hands pressing against his neck, he couldn’t contain himself.

Changbin stopped moving for a second, and Seungmin thought he was going to die, but then, he let one hand fall, got the other around his throat, thumb on one side, rest of the fingers on the other, and he squeezed.

Seungmin moaned again, gasped and let his mouth hang open as his breath started to come in short.

He couldn’t breathe. He felt numb. His brain going silent. He was moaning again, grabbing Changbin’s hand against his neck, begging for more with each sound.

“Baby,” Changbin whispered, that time against his ear, opening his hand so Seungmin could get some air to his brain before closing like a bear trap against his throat again.

“Bin,” Seungmin tried to say back. It came out high and whiney, wet with the saliva Seungmin was trying not to choke in, wet like the patch he was leaving on his underwear.

 Changbin shushed him, kissed the side of his head as he squeezed just a tad tighter, not to choke him more, but to make sure Seungmin was feeling him around his neck.

And then, just as easily as it had wrapped around his throat, the hand was gone.

Seungmin took in a deep breath, coughed and leaned forward against the back of the chair.

Changbin cleared his own throat.

“I’m better at feet massages,” he said, a joke; they used to joke about his barely concealed foot kink back in college; Seungmin didn’t even register the words.

He let out a short breath and took in another one.

“I’m going to order something for dinner, alright?”

Changbin was gone like a fugitive before Seungmin could turn around to face him, not that he was going to turn around.

Dinner was awkward. For the first time since Changbin was back, it was impossible to think of something to talk about. Seungmin’s hand kept going up around his neck before he could catch himself, and then, he would let it drop to his lap quickly, hoping Changbin hadn’t seen it.

But Changbin was looking, of course.

He was always looking.

He was also probably unaware of how thin the apartment walls were between Seungmin’s bedroom and the bathroom.

Or how shameless Seungmin was. Shameless enough to plaster himself against the wall of his room connected to the bathroom when he heard the first grunt coming from the other side. Changbin hit the wall, probably with his head, and Seungmin almost fell backwards, but he stood there, pressing his hands against the wall, hoping it was Changbin’s chest instead.

He bit his finger, slowly giving in to the temptation of touching himself too. He knew it was wrong. Changbin wasn’t putting on a show; he had been at his home for a whole week, he was pent up. It was a stressful time too; he only wanted release.

Seungmin wanted to taste it.

He felt himself over his pyjama pants, let his mouth open as he closed his eyes, imagining it was Changbin instead of himself, his rough hands teasing him.

He knew Changbin would take his time, play with his nipples first, tease them, make them hard and wet with his mouth, bite them and make Seungmin whine, thrash and hit him, desperate.

He would call him impatient and a brat, and he would try to make him come without even touching his dick.

Maybe, he would make him rub himself off against his big thighs first, make him moan high enough that everyone in the building would hear him, make him feel so embarrassed that Seungmin wouldn’t care any more, would bark for him if he asked.

The shower turned on again, and Seungmin whined, hit the wall in frustration, annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to hear Changbin like that, but it was okay, his fantasy had been fleshed out for years, and he had been holding on all week.

That afternoon, that damn massage. It had already felt good enough as it was, Changbin pressing all his tensed spots, making him feel like putty, he had already been fighting a boner off when Changbin’s hands found his neck.

Seungmin got his free hand against his throat. He had tried it before, only with himself, alone; he had researched online, but he mostly only pressed his neck a little when he was about to come; it made his orgasm feel more intense.

It had been so different with Changbin. Not only had it felt so much better, making him completely numb, his brain shutting down, without making him feel like he was dying, but it had felt… psychologically better. It meant surrendering to Changbin, putting his life in his hands. It had to do with control and power, not only physical pleasure.

Just by thinking about it, he was leaking so much again that there was a thread of precum connecting the tip of his cock to his underwear when he got himself out; it broke and sprinkled over to the floor. He rubbed his head, pressed his thumb against the slit hard, a little punishing, the way he liked it, and let out a shaky moan.

He turned, resting his back against the wall and started to stroke himself using his precum as lube. It was easy with how wet he was. He didn’t notice he had started to bend forward, sliding down against the wall as he kept moaning, his mind still on Changbin.

He thought about him choking him with his arms, rendering him stupid, a drooling mess over his big biceps. He thought of how he would coo at him, telling him to try to be a brat, throwing him on the bed, ripping his pants and spanking him, spitting in his hole.

He thought about clamps in his nipples and marks all around his neck and chest.

He thought about Changbin’s cock splitting him open, his hard thrusts; about him bending him upwards and back against his chest, teasingly telling him to stop whining, ‘you’ve been asking for this for ages, Min, stop being a bitch’.

He came, hard, all over his fist and stomach, without a warning. He kept going until his dick felt raw and he had no tears left to cry.

And just as he was coming down for it, Changbin knocked on his door.

“Min? I heard a bang. Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Seungmin looked around, panicked. He was next to the drawers, and on top was the toilet paper. He got up and got it, almost falling face-first, tangled in his own pants and underwear.

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Don’t come in! I just fell!”

“You fell?”

Seungmin heard the doorknob twisting.

“No! No! Don’t fucking come in! I’m Alright- I’m fine! Just-”

“Alright, alright, not coming in. Geez, what are you hiding, Min?” Changbin giggled. 

“Nothing! I’m alright, hyung, just go to sleep!” Seungmin answered, finally getting to the paper, it wasn’t until his hands were more or less clean and he noticed that Changbin wasn’t talking that he realised what he had said.

“Okay, Min.” Seungmin could see Changbin’s shit-eating grin through the closed door. “Hyung would go to sleep. Let hyung know if you need anything, okay?”

“Oh, for god’s- just go to sleep, Changbin!”

“Not even a goodnight kiss for hyung today either?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. Changbin didn’t wait for an answer; he giggled and went back to the living room.

Seungmin sighed. He was done for.

──── ୨୧ ────

“I don’t understand why we have to do this, hyung,” Seungmin sighed.

It was a hotter day, after the weeks of rain they had had; the sun was shining, maybe a little too much. The birds were chirping and the air was clean, except for a little bit of pollen, and Changbin had insisted they go to the park.

“For inspiration, of course. I told you I was going to teach you about romance, but I haven’t had time this past week.”

A whole week had gone by. It all had stayed, weirdly enough, the same. Changbin had signed the papers for his divorce, gotten a lawyer and looked at apartments to move to. He had gone to see one last afternoon, but he hadn’t said anything about the visit to Seungmin, which had completely messed up Seungmin’s night, of course.

He knew Changbin had to leave; it was just normal to do so. Get an apartment and build his life again, but Seungmin was scared of just how easy it would be for him to slip out of Changbin’s life once again, how good he was at rejecting hangouts, how forgettable he would be once Changbin, or Changbin’s parents, found someone else for him.

“I do not need to know anything more about romance, Changbin,” Seungmin complained. Changbin didn’t even pay him attention; he just pulled on his wrist and pointed at the big lake in the middle of the park.

“Let’s get a boat.”

“No!”

The water was clear, which was surprising, and ordering Changbin around was fun; telling him to keep rowing made him feel like a heartless coach before a big competition.

“Stop being so mean! You’re supposed to love me!”

“Keep rowing, boy. You’ll never win like this!”

Changbin groaned, then he looked back at the pier. The man managing the boat rent didn’t seem to be paying them any attention, so he got the oar out of the water. He couldn’t move it freely; both oars were attached to the boat, but he could threaten to hit Seungmin with it, and that was enough.

Seungmin got up in a crouch and shifted to the side; the boat swayed and Changbin got scared that Seungmin would fall, so he got up to catch him, which, inevitably, made him fall.

It was like a cannonball hitting the water. Seungmin was splashed and shook around in the boat, only staying inside because he grabbed the edges on time. He turned to the water in distress, ready to shout Changbin’s name and call for help.

But the moment he looked at the water, he saw Changbin was alright, looking at him like a wet, angry kitty, arms crossed around his life-saver vest that made his neck disappear. His hair stuck to his forehead, and his nose was dripping water.

“Ha, ha, funny,” Changbin mumbled.

“I wasn’t the one misbehaving on the boat, hyung,” Seungmin shrugged.

They got scolded, then apologised to, then scolded again; finally, they could go without making it to the ‘deny entry’ list.

Changbin kept pouting the whole walk through the park.

“It’s sunny, you’ll get dry soon, hyung.”

Changbin looked at him and smiled for a second before going back to pouting.

“Will you keep calling me hyung when I get my own apartment?”

“That’s a weird question,” Seungmin answered in a whisper. He looked away. “Look, ice cream, let’s get one and wait in the sun. There’s no way we can get a taxi with you drenched.”

They chose their flavours. Changbin tried Seungmin’s, then made a fuss of Seungmin trying to taste his, but finally let him do it as long as he could spoon-feed it to Seungmin.

Of course, it made Seungmin blush; he supposed red had become his new foundation colour since Changbin started living with him.

“I want to keep calling you hyung, hyung, even if you move.”

“I accepted the lease to the apartment I saw yesterday.”

“Ah.”

So it was the fair all over again.

The last puppy cup.

“When are you leaving?” Seungmin mumbled. The ice cream tasted bland suddenly. He guessed it didn’t matter.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I think I overstayed, yeah? I… We weren’t even in talking terms before I came knocking at your door. I’m sorry, I-”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“But-”

“It’s okay. It’s alright,” Seungmin swallowed, tensing his jaw. He looked at his ice cream, and pushed it between them. “I don’t want more. You can finish it.”

He wasn’t a teenager anymore, he wasn’t pouty or spiteful anymore, he wasn’t a brat. He wasn’t supposed to pout the rest of their time out, or to cross his arms in the taxi and look out the window when Changbin tried to take his hand and play with his fingers. He wasn’t supposed to be like that.

But-

When they arrived at the apartment Seungmin was dying to get into his room, close the door, hide away, scream into his pillow and get used to life without Changbin again. He knew they would talk for the next few months, maybe become best friends again, it was easy afterall, it had been so easy those weeks they had been together; and then someone would appear in Changbin’s life and he wouldn’t be able to bear it again, he would pull away, lose Changbin for the second time in his life, the last one if he was lucky enough.

“Min-” Changbin said, taking his wrist and pulling on it so Seungmin couldn’t run to the room, as if he had been waiting for the escape.

“Let me go,” Seungmin snapped. He didn’t want to turn, because he knew how he looked, pitiful, eyes wet and lips pursed, that sad kicked puppy aura.

“Min, come on,” Changbin whispered.

Seungmin turned, flaring his nostrils, chin high even when his lips were trembling, his voice cutting off the rest of whatever Changbin wanted to say.

“You asked me last week what happened back then,” he said, a mix between a mumble and a cry. “Do you really want to know, hyung?”

“I do.”

“I liked you so fucking much,” he said, throwing his free hand up to the air, then making a little fist of it. “I loved you. I used to love you. Even now-”

“Even now?” Changbin asked, tightening his hold on Seungmin’s hand. Seungmin hadn’t even realised his confession, but it didn’t matter; it was too late. It had to be.

“Even now.”

Changbin pulled on his wrist, and Seungmin let himself go. He met Changbin’s chest, then Changbin pushed him against the wall, a leg already between Seungmin’s, both forearms against the wall.

“Min. Min, please, say it.”

“I already did, you go now,” Seungmin answered, raising his chin.

Changbin tsked. He fixed a couple of stray hairs behind Seungmin’s ear, or maybe it was an excuse to touch Seungmin, to caress the side of his head, to get his ear between his fingers and trace its shape as he looked at Seungmin with a slightly open mouth.

He licked his lips.

“Min, you already… You saw the folder. You… you know.”

“I know nothing, hyung,” Seungmin whispered. He let his head rest against Changbin’s hand, but only slightly, scared as his hands moved up to Changbin’s shoulders. There was a slightly teasing smile on his face, just a shadow of it, but Changbin could read that it was there as a defence that time.

“I love you. I have loved you forever.”

“Then why-”

“I- Come on, baby. I’m sorry. I can’t change the past. I was young, and I wanted to make my parents proud or… or maybe I was just too scared of what you do to me.”

“And what’s that, hyung?” Seungmin answered, his eyes relaxed, blinking once, twice, then dropping to Changbin’s lips.

The kiss that drunken night had nothing on this one. Changbin’s hands went to the sides of his head, moving him to where he wanted Seungmin, pushing against his lips, demanding, flushing against him so much that Seungmin felt Changbin’s chest compressing against his flat one.

Changbin licked his lower lip, and Seungmin bit his, making him whine as he dragged it out before kissing him again, letting Changbin finally lick inside his mouth and against his tongue.

It was obscene, desperate. Seungmin chased him out, licked his tongue outside Changbin’s mouth and made him laugh, then licked all and every shape of his teeth, mapped his mouth, sucked his lips and tongue and moaned against him, pressing his legs together against Changbin’s leg in between them.

“Bedroom, please, hyung, please.”

“You’re so cute when you want something,” Changbin whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth and making Seungmin chase his mouth, but ignoring him, kissing down his neck instead.

“So give it to me, hyung. I’ve been waiting.”

“Damn, you have been, right? Let hyung make it up to you, let me-”

“Yes, yes, please, please, Bin, please, just-”

Changbin kissed him again, then grabbed him by the ass and made him jump. It was easy, Seungmin weighed nothing, and Changbin felt like he had been training only to be able to pick him up when the moment arrived. Seungmin wrapped his legs around him and closed his eyes, kissing and sucking marks on the side of Changbin’s neck as he got them to the room.

“Throw me,” Seungmin mumbled against Changbin’s neck, right on top of a beautiful new bruise he had put there, as soon as they entered the room.

“Kinky brat. Ask nicely?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. He kicked Changbin’s butt and made him yelp and pinch his in retaliation.

“Hyung,” Seungmin whined, but Changbin kissed him before he could keep protesting. Seungmin got lost in it, and when Changbin finally let go of his lips and threw him on the bed, it left him breathless.

His smile lit up his eyes as Changbin descended upon him, getting between his legs and going straight for his mouth again.

“Kinky,” Changbin mumbled, making Seungmin’s lips tickle. “You want me to throw you around.”

“Yeah- Want- Want you to throw me around and-” It was difficult to talk with Changbin dragging his teeth against his neck as he got a hand under his shirt, opening the buttons from down up and dragging his blunt nails all over the skin he kept uncovering. “Choke me-”

“I knew you liked that.”

“I was so hard, hyung,” Seungmin confessed. He felt Changbin’s hard intake of air, a little tremble in his hands, before he kept going, more hurried. “I was leaking so much. My underwear was a mess. I was worried you’d see.”

“I would have gotten on my knees, Min.”

“Liar,” Seungmin said, throwing his head back so Changbin could get to his last button and then start kissing a strip down his sternum as he flapped away the fabric.

“I want you so much, Min. You don’t understand, even the first night I would have-”

“Bite me,” Seungmin interrupted, as Changbin's lips moved to his sides, feeling their pressure against his ribs.

Changbin dragged his teeth against the skin, nibbled softly, pinching the skin of Seungmin’s sides on his lips.

“I said bite me, hyung,” Seungmin whined.

“So bossy, such a brat, and-” Changbin bit him, making Seungmin moan, his cock twitching against Changbin’s stomach. “Fuck. We will talk about your kinks later. Let me fuck you tenderly today, yeah? I’ve been waiting so long.”

“And whose fault is that?” Seungmin teased as Changbin kissed up to his nipple.

“I wasn’t the only one not saying anything, yeah?” Changbin whispered.

Seungmin got his legs around Changbin, pressed him against himself and grabbed his hair, pressing his face against his chest as he looked away, getting flushed.

“Such a brat,” Changbin mumbled, but he licked around Changbin’s nipple, making his areola wet, the bud hard, then bit it, and Seungmin almost jumped off the bed.

“So good- So good, hyung, again-”

“Did you earn it, Min?”

“I’ve been so patient, hyung! I’ve earned it!”

Changbin shook his head, moved to the other nipple and repeated the motions, then kept going, nibbling around the nipple, blowing on it softly after, abusing it with his tongue and sucking on it until Seungmin was panting, moaning, and asking Changbin to take off his pants.

“You really are something else in bed,” Changbin said as he opened Seungmin’s pants. “You haven’t even asked me if I want to do anything.”

“You want to fuck me,” Seungmin answered quickly, unbothered by Changbin's small try at teasing. “So get to it, hyung. Prep me, lube’s-”

“In the nightstand?” Changbin asked, already reaching for it.

Seungmin batted his hand away, then found Changbin’s arm was too close to his face, a perfect distance for biting, and so he did, making Changbin groan.

“It’s under the bed, in the toys’ box.”

“Ah, fuck- Seungmin- When did you get so dirty?” Changbin asked as he kissed down Seungmin’s body again, all the way to his happy trail as he dragged his pants down with the help of Seungmin lifting his hips up and shimmying them.

“Always was, hyung. You were just too worried fucking that girl to noti-”

“Seungmin,” Changbin clicked his tongue. Seungmin looked at him defiantly. “It’s over. I signed the papers; in a couple of months, she won’t be in my life at all. It’s over.”

“Bite me again, my thighs-”

“You want the marks, hm? That’s what you want.”

“Want to feel you, too. Want to know it’s happening- I- I need the marks, too, yes- Hyung, please.”

“Ssh.” Seungmin's blood started to boil. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like the shushing, but then Changbin’s mouth was on his thighs, a finger hooking the hem of his underwear up so he could put his mouth there, right were the clothe sat, so Seungmin’s underwear would press against the mark and remind him of that night the next day when it stung a little. Seungmin realised Changbin hadn’t been condescending, he just didn’t need any more explanations.

Changbin sucked the skin first, made it tender and sensitive, then bit down so hard that Seungmin grabbed his head and pressed down as his back arched off the bed, then he sucked the mark again, bringing Seungmin to tears.

“What a cute painslut, Min,” Changbin said, blowing over the mark. Seungmin felt himself leaking, his cock twitching, his saliva thickening. “You like that too, baby? Like being told what you are?”

“S-Stop,” Seungmin mumbled.

Changbin pouted in faux sympathy. “ Do you really want me to stop?”

Seungmin opened his eyes, looked down at Changbin and shook his head.

“No- No hyung, please, don’t stop,” he whined.

Changbin smiled, kissed his tummy, right under his belly button, and finally hooked his fingers on the hem of his underwear.

“Such a brat…” he lamented as he pulled the underwear down to Seungmin’s knees, slowly, like he was opening a present. “Telling me to do something, then to stop, then to continue… I should spank you.”

“Please-”

“Spank your little ass red, hm?” Chanbin taunted. Seungmin was nodding so quickly that he knew he was risking a neck injury. “But I said I wanted to be tender today, Min. Do you really not care for what I want?”

“Don’t-” Seungmin moaned as Changbin finally slid his underwear off until it was hanging off his ankle, spanking one of his thighs softly so he would spread them open wider, and stroking his cock upwards once.

“Selfish,” Changbin whispered, kissing the inside of his thigh, holding it to put it over his shoulder. “And here I was thinking about sucking you off… but if you don’t care-”

“Hyung!” Seungmin whined. “You can do what you want- You can suck me off, or you can use my thighs, or fuck my face, you can spit on me, you can tie me up, you can- just fuck me, fuck me, please!”

“Whoa, Min… Do you get like this with everyone?”

Seungmin turned to the side, then shook his head.

“You don’t? You don’t turn into a desperate slut with everyone, Min? Only for hyung?”

“Only for hyung,” Seungmin repeated.

“I don’t believe you,” Changbin said, and bit Seungmin’s thigh.

“It’s true!” Seungmin shouted. He wasn’t worried about Changbin not really believing him; he knew it was a game, but he was desperate, desperate for Changbin to touch his cock again, for him to get his other thigh over his shoulder and make him show him his hole, so he would finger him, open him up.

Fuck him.

Changbin smiled, kissed the new mark, then looked up at Seungmin with sad eyes, a fake pout.

“You promise?”

Seungmin wanted to scream. He grabbed Changbin’s head with one hand, then his hand with the other. Changbin frowned, confused. Seungmin moved his hand so he was over his cock again, and made him take it in his hand.

“See this? Feel it? It’s for you, hyung, only for you.”

“Aw, am I supposed to be happy?” Seungmin frowned, froze for a moment. “That such a tiny cock is all for me? What am I supposed to do with that, Min? Hm?” 

Fuck.

Fuck. He twitched, leaking precum all over Changbin’s hand as Changbin's smile got wider.

“Want me to suck on it like a lollipop, Min? Alright… Hope I don’t get hungry after…”

Changbin didn’t warn him further; he grabbed Seungmin’s cock by the base, taking it all in his mouth. His mouth was so small that his lips stretched around Seungmin’s base. Seungmin wasn’t really tiny, hitting the back of Changbin’s throat, leaking precum down it immediately.

Seungmin closed his eyes, whined as Changbin bobbed his head, licked his undervein and giggled like it was really no effort, when in reality, Seungmin could make him choke in his cock if he wasn’t so gone, if he could move his hips at all.

Changbin flattened his fat tongue against his slit, and Seungmin choked, curving his back over the bed again. Changbin smiled and grabbed his legs tighter, finally putting both over his shoulders as he kept sucking Seungmin off until he was trying to kick his shoulders.

“Hy-hyung, hyung. Coming- I’m-”

Changbin grabbed his thighs tighter, clawing his nails in the tender meat to make sure Seungmin would feel the pain, and tried to open his mouth wider, sucking at his balls as if he could get them in too.

Seungmin came deep inside his throat, shaking, his whole upper body thrashing up and down the bed as he grabbed the bedsheets. He finally got leverage against Changbin’s shoulder as he moved back down his cock, holding only the tip against his full lips, and sucking the head, making Seungmin cry as he tried to push Changbin back.

“So sweet,” Changbin mumbled, only because he knew it would make Seungmin cover his face in shame.

Seungmin tried kicking him again, but Changbin pressed the instep of his foot and grabbed it against his shoulder. He kissed it, then brought it to the centre of his chest and kissed his toes.

“Such beautiful little things.”

Seungmin took his hands off his face, looking at Changbin, who was caressing his foot with care, kissing his toes one by one.

“Hyung…” he whined. Changbin hummed in question. “Come on, don’t make me say it.”

“You don’t have to say it, puppy,” Changbin smiled.

Seungmin gulped down. That was worse than ‘baby’, far worse than ‘baby’. That made his aching cock fight to get hard again. That made him feel like he could come again right that moment.

“You’ll have to beg for it, alright?” Changbin added while Seungmin was distracted, trying not to combust.

Seungmin scrunched his nose, pushed Changbin harder, making him bend back, but he came back with fury, taking Seungmin's ankle and pulling it up over his own head, then, as if he were a pancake, he flipped him on the bed.

“What the-” Seungmin yelled.

“Ssh. Stop being such a brat, Seungmin. Get your ass up, can’t even be participative when you are getting what you want,” Changbin tsked.

Seungmin turned his head, looking at Changbin on his knees, taking his t-shirt off finally. He wanted to turn again and get his chest in his mouth. He wanted to fondle him, make him flex for him, and he regretted his position, but he had gotten him angry, and that was a feast in itself.

Changbin seemed to have gotten more patient over the years, as if he had been training for that day, but Seungmin had gotten him there, about to fuck him hard, like Seungmin had been dreaming he would do.

He could have him melting with his nipples in his mouth next time. He knew Changbin would be sensitive.

Seungmin arched his back, lay with his head over his forearms and spread his legs resting on his knees and his chest.

“Such good form, puppy.”

“Say it-”

“Stop bossing me around, or you are getting nothing but a spanking.” Seungmin smiled wider and Changbin sighed. “Or you are getting nothing, period.”

“Not fun,” Seungmin mumbled, turning around again. Changbin used that moment to spank his cheek once, not too hard, just enough that it made Seungmin moan and turn around in hopes it would happen again.

“Where was the box, Min?”

“Under the bed, to the right, it’s within hand reach.”

“Of course it is, hm?”

Seungmin didn’t answer. He swallowed and waited, keeping his ‘good form’ while Changbin got the box on the bed and the rest of his clothes off.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Changbin whispered. Seungmin clicked his tongue; it was taking too long. “Nipple clamps?”

“Just-”

“Min, should we get some ropes too? I thought you might have been joking before, but…”

“Are you serious?” Seungmin asked, turning around. Changbin nodded. “Fuck me.”

“That’s-”

“Bin, I’m so hard again. Please, please, fuck me. And we can go get rope and whatever you want after, yes, yes.”

“And you didn’t want to beg, aw,” Changbin answered. He kissed the small of Seungmin’s back as he got the lube open and his fingers coated. “We can get some candles too, hm? You’d look so good covered in red wax, puppy.” Seungmin moaned as Changbin started to kiss further up his back, getting his cheek spread with his clean hand.

He rubbed a thumb up his crack, catching only slightly on his hole, before he did the same with two fingers, circling his rim and pressing one lubed finger, just the pad.

“Hyung-”

“What about a nice plug tail, puppy? Won’t you like that?”

“Hyung, please- please-”

Changbin got his finger in. It wasn’t hard work, but Seungmin tightened around him, as if he needed to feel it more.

“You used to bark on command for me. Would you still do it?”

“It was a joke-” Seungmin tried to answer. It had been back then; nothing but a joke. 

“Was it, puppy?” Changbin pushed another finger, kissing Seungmin’s nape as he did, then dragging his teeth alongside it. His neck looked like a painting, all sorts of marks all over. He looked down at Seungmin’s side. There was only a bite there; he should get him covered in those marks, make sure everyone would know. They were going to visit Chan and Minho in a couple of days. They should show them.

“Was- was a joke,” Seungmin answered, as he tried to move back and fuck himself on Changbin’s fingers. Changbin stopped him with a hand around his hip.

He took his time opening Seungmin up, pressing against his walls and scissoring his fingers, bending them just right so they would jam Seungmin’s prostate, making him moan and, on occasion, wail, as he kept trying to rock, trying to get some friction on his angry red cock.

“But you seem to like it more now, hm?” Changbin whispered in his ear before pressing a third finger in.

The teasing was too much, right on the nail head. It had made Seungmin fall over on his shoulders, drooling on the pillow as Changbin fucked him with three fingers, still not letting him move, and all he could think about was getting a pretty tail plug, a pair of cute ears, let Changbin tie him up, bark for him, let him take him apart slowly after he had tamed all the brattiness out of him.

So the next time he opened his mouth, trying to beg for more, for Changbin’s cock. He let out a whiny, nasal bark.

Changbin stood still for a moment.

“Puppy?” Changbin whispered.

And Seungmin did it again.

“Fuck,” Changbin mumbled.

Had it been wrong? Why had he done it? Oh-

“Fuck, such a good puppy, Min,” Changbin praised him before Seungmin could spiral. “Such a cute puppy, yeah? Barking for me.” Seungmin smiled and relaxed his shoulders. Changbin kissed his wet cheek, then pecked his top lip before he moved behind him again, caressing his back. “Such a good puppy deserves a treat, yeah?”

Seungmin tried to nod; he couldn’t do it, but he moved his head in some way.

He noticed, with a shock, a sliver of horror, that he had come again, at some point, he had come on Changbin’s fingers and the idea of being a good puppy for him, and he realised that maybe that was what had surprised Changbin, and not his barking, which made him relax further.

“Do you want to get fucked still, puppy?”

“Please-”

Changbin smiled. He wanted to tell him that good puppies only bark, but they would have time for that later. Instead, he rested his hand on his lower back and took his fingers out, shushing Seungmin when he whined at the loss.

He got a condom on and his cock lubed, and looked at Seungmin, looking back at him, his rim fluttering, leaking just the tiniest amount of lube. Changbin bit his lip and aligned himself.

“Ready, puppy?”

“Just-”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Changbin answered. “You’re nicer when you bark.”

Seungmin tried to protest, but he only gasped as he felt the blunt head of Changbin’s cock against his rim. Changbin spread his cheeks open as he slid in, enjoying the view. Seungmin bit his lip and let out a long breath as Changbin bottomed out. His cock was incredibly wide, even more so at the base. It felt like he was being stretched to his limit.

“All good, puppy?”

“Good-” Seungmin mumbled. “Good, good. So good, hyung. Please- please-”

Changbin smirked, didn’t let him finish before he started moving.

“Shit, you are so tight, Min,” Changbin groaned, speeding up. “Not going to last-”

“It’s okay- It’s okay. Keep- keep-”

Changbin grabbed both his hips with his hands, thrusting in at the same time, he pulled him back, starting a punishing rhythm that drowned the room in the obscene wet sound of their hips colliding. Sweat was pooling down their backs, Changbin was biting his lip so hard, trying to last a little longer, that he was dragging blood. Seungmin's cock felt raw, trying to get hard once again, as it slapped against his thighs again and again, making him wince, overstimulated.

“Min-” Changbin moaned, low, and Seungmin knew he was almost there. He tightened his rim, tried to trap him inside, to make himself tighter for his hyung. Changbin's sounds got deeper, more feral, and his hands seemed to want to get tattooed in Seungmin’s hips as he kept thrusting, messier, shakier.

He threw his head back before collapsing over Seungmin, almost making his back give out.

Changbin found leverage on the bed just in time, already whispering apologies and kissing Seungmin’s back.

“Get off, hyung,” Seungmin mumbled.

“Yes, yes.” Changbin kissed his back one last time and rolled to the side, getting the condom off and throwing it to the bin next to the nightstand before opening his arms for Seungmin.

“You’re sweaty. I don’t want to.”

“Aw, don’t be mean, Min. I will go take a shower after.”

“Shower first, then we cuddle.”

“Man, you really know nothing about romance.”

“Luckily, someone offered to teach me,” Seungmin said, finally rolling closer to Changbin, lying his head in one of his arms, but not getting much closer. Changbin smiled, satisfied with just that.

He got his other hand on Seungmin’s side, caressing him softly, as if he was, suddenly, going to scare away at the touch, only the blunt ends of his nails walking over his skin, making Seungmin shiver.

“Really? And are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“Not sure yet. He fell off the boat last time he tried teaching me something,” Seungmin teased back.

“Hey! That’s not fair. I think I just showed you plenty,” Changbin pouted. “It would have been so romantic if you had let me… our first time…” His pout deepened.

“So you’ll have to try harder to get your way next time, hm?” Seungmin teased back, trying not to get fixated and asphyxiated on Changbin’s words.

Our first time.

Changbin smiled, nodding. He grabbed Seungmin's head, and, even when he protested about the sweat again, Seungmin was smiling back when Changbin kissed him.

“Let me try again now.”