Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Baby. Come here."

The smile on Sieun's face fades to nothing, words heavy against his tongue.

Within seconds, the man he has spent the entire night warming up to is glancing behind him and going white as a ghost. He gawks before scampering off without even a goodbye.

Just like that.

Slowly, Sieun pivots on his foot.

Ahn Suho stands at the bottom of the staircase, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Sieun tries to look unaffected by the blatant sabotage. It is a hard feat when Suho's expression is verging on bored. Waiting for the inevitable.

Sieun walks over to the stairs. Suho watches.

Once he is within reach, Suho's arms unfurl, and he tilts Sieun's chin up.

"It's never gonna work," he says, with a contrived softness that stings. "They're not me. They're never gonna be."

"That's what I like about them," Sieun hisses.

"That's why you let them be chased off," corrects Suho with a raised brow. "Go get yourself another drink."

His hand drops from Sieun's face and it feels so much colder in an instant. Suho's touch scorches now.

And still, Sieun wants it.

Without a word, he leaves the staircase—and Suho—behind to go to the kitchen, retrieving another bottle and tucking himself in the corner of the room away from those who have been successful where he failed, tongues shoved down each other's throats. He also steers clear of the hazardous methods of alcohol consumption happening to the side of the room.

The bottle in his hand drains pretty fast and he begins to feel wobbly on his feet. That is when he navigates to the living area, finding his friend sprawled over the couch with his roommates.

Sieun approaches them and they cheer at his arrival.

It feels completely unbefitting for his sour mood.

"I'm going home," he announces once he is within distance.

A pout is quick to appear on Juntae's face; the drunken one that he pairs with pleading eyes. It is hard for even Sieun to resist at times, and he is as impervious to influence as they come.

Or, he used to be.

"Stay," Gotak says. "Crash in Baku's bed."

A protest comes from Baku, betweem them, but it is quickly shut down when he earns two elbows into his ribs. In the end, he lifts a shaky thumb of approval, clutching the site of his injury.

"I haven't seen Suho in a while. If he's out, I'm sure you can take his room for the night," Juntae adds.

To avoid swallowing his tongue, Sieun tilts his head down before gulping. It just lends to the air of shame surrounding him.

He had not even wanted to drink anymore. Earlier, he cut himself off at a good point where he had a pleasant buzz going for him. But now, he has another bottle in hand and another failed hook up who will undoubtedly run away if he attempts to approach him again.

The alcohol is easing his emotions through him as he totters on his feet.

"I just saw him," he mumbles, barely audible over the music. "He's still here."

"Hermit," Baku says, laughing at the joke.

It is funny because Suho is the opposite, really.

He has always been sociable, especially at a scene like this. The parties they throw at the share house are regular enough and Suho attends virtually every one.

Sieun knows this because when Suho's presence became scarce, it garnered a lot of attention.

So much so that there were cases where people would knock at his door and rattle the handle to test if it would open. Without fail, Suho would call out and talk to the person, eyes boring into Sieun, splayed beneath him on his bed.

Even as Sieun whacked his bicep, Suho would not stop moving through it all.

There were many different excuses that they came up with to sneak away together from the parties. But it was always like that. Always together.

Now, Sieun attends them alone, and for the most part, Suho remains upstairs other than for some perfunctory greetings if he can be bothered.

It feels personal.

Sieun takes another swig before he nods, wiping his mouth. "I'll take your bed then, Baku. Thank you."

Baku beams at him, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

With that, Sieun gets rid of the alcohol in hand before heading towards the staircase.

Thankfully, Suho is nowhere to be found, no longer taking up the bottom steps, watching Sieun with an all-knowing gaze. Relief washes over Sieun and he dashes up the steps, praying that Suho is mingling with the crowd somewhere in the thick of the party. Far away from Sieun.

His hand has just wrapped around the handle of Baku's bedroom door when he hears another creak open.

It causes him to freeze, wasting the priceless second that he was given to escape.

"Sieun–ah, I was just going to look for you. Did you get another drink?"

Without turning back, Sieun offers a weak nod.

Footsteps draw closer followed by a hand covering his own on the door handle.

"What are you doing upstairs?"

"Getting away from the party for a bit," Sieun answers.

A half-truth.

"It's too much for you down there, isn't it, Sieunie?" Suho murmurs. "So much easier if you stayed with me up here."

"I don't want to."

A thumb strokes over his knuckles.

"Why are you going into Baku's room? Come with me."

"I don't want to," Sieun repeats.

It makes him flush, feeling stupid. He always fumbles with his words in front of Suho. Normally in situations where he cannot keep his composure, he will simply opt for not speaking. But Suho never allows that. If Sieun does not speak, he gets caught up in it much too quickly. In Suho.

"Don't say that, baby," Suho says.

Sieun bites his bottom lip before turning to face Suho.

Brows climbing his forehead, Suho tips his head to the side.

Silent. Waiting until Sieun responds.

"I just want to sleep."

"That's fine. Sleep in my bed." A pause. "You'll be more comfortable there."

Sieun tries to turn the handle but Suho holds it firm over his hand.

Tongue poking against his cheek, Suho raises a brow. Testing if Sieun really wants to play this game of attrition.

And Sieun is too tired for it. He always yields first.

His hand slips from the handle, earning him a small smile from Suho.

"Good."

Sieun does not say anything in response as he follows Suho into his bedroom.

Nothing has changed since the last time he was inside. Even the direction of the desk chair, facing the door, reminds Sieun of storming out a few weeks ago.

Suho heads towards the desk that has caught Sieun's attention and drops into the chair, making it roll a few centimetres. He leans back as he meets Sieun's gaze, who is still loitering by the door.

Motioning towards the bed with a nod of his head, Suho says, "Go lay down. I won't bother you."

Sieun's teeth gnaw at the inside of his cheek as he glances between Suho and the mattress. He does not move.

Suho observes his reaction, elbows on the armrest and fingers interlaced, loose in the air.

The corner of his mouth twitches before his hands come apart and he opens them.

After a second, Sieun hangs his head and pads over, slipping into Suho's lap. Suho immediately hikes him up, not saying anything as Sieun rests his head on his shoulder, facing the door so he does not have to stare at the cause of all his strife.

"Prefer hyung's arms, hm, baby?"

"Shut up," Sieun mumbles.

Coiling one arm around Sieun's back, Suho shifts the chair so that it is facing his desk again.

"I've gotta do some work. That okay?"

Sieun nods his head, eyes closing as he is thawed out by Suho's warm, familiar body against his.

It does not take much more for him to doze off.

Another surrender.

If he were not so well-acquainted with the enigma that is Suho, Sieun would think his only skill is persuasion; he is so adept at making Sieun relent, shoulders slumping as he lets his defences fall down.

It does not matter if they come up stronger than before after a few hours. Suho always finds a way around them.

A few weeks ago, Sieun liked that about him. He never had to force his feelings to the light for Suho to notice. Sometimes he picked up on it before Sieun even did.

Being read like that made it so easy with Suho. Sieun never had to ask. Suho just knew.

But now it makes everything infinitely harder.

Suho can always tell what Sieun is trying to hide. Knows what he truly wants, beneath all the vitriol and shoddy walls.

That is why he comes again and again with his soft, coaxing 'baby' just to watch Sieun melt a little more each time.

Sieun wakes an hour later to Suho shifting beneath him on the chair. His head lifts, blinking away sleep so that he can consider Suho's expression.

Realising that his movement has roused Sieun, Suho says, "Sorry, my leg's dead. You can go back to sleep."

Frowning, Sieun glances down at where he is comfortably seated atop Suho.

"I'll just go," he says, voice quiet and a bit indistinct with sleep. "Your bed or the party."

His toes have only just brushed the floorboards when Suho's hand slides down his leg and hikes it back onto the chair. The arm holding Sieun secure tightens a little. More caging than stabilising now.

"You don't have to do that, baby. I'm happy for you to stay here."

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Sieun is not sure which of them moves first. He wants to believe it is Suho, but even if that is the case, he knows Suho must have read something in his expression first. Something that told him Sieun wants it.

Their lips meet. Suho kisses him so sweetly that it already persuades a whine from between Sieun's lips. It has been a while, but Suho is still so tender.

He winds his arms around Suho's neck, pressing their bodies flush.

Suho runs a hand over his waist, soothing. It feels as though he is reassuring Sieun that he is making the right decision, surrendering like this.

Sieun hates it.

He really is too weak to Suho.

Their lips break apart so that Suho can angle his head and deepen the kiss, so insistent that Sieun is being pushed back against the desk.

Suho follows. Hungry.

Gasping, Sieun braces his hands on the edge of the table. The parting of his mouth gives Suho the opportunity to sweep his tongue inside, groaning.

Sieun's nails scratch against the wood as his hold tightens.

"Missed you," Suho gets out between breathless kisses. "Y'know you've been wanting this too, baby—"

"Stop," Sieun says, a little pathetically. Almost pleading.

He really does not want to think about what he is doing, how easy he is giving in.

Before Suho can respond, there is a knock at the door.

Sieun swallows down a yelp, scrambling off the chair so fast that he almost falls over.

Suho narrows his eyes, hands still holding the air where Sieun was a second ago.

"Suho?"

Baku's voice.

Sieun takes a step away from Suho.

Suho's eyes narrow a little more. He mouths, "Come back."

Shaking his head, Sieun puts more distance between them.

"Are you in there? Sieunie said he saw you earlier."

Suho arches a brow at Sieun, hand snaking out and catching hold of his wrist before he is completely out of reach.

"Yeah, sorry."

He tugs Sieun's wrist, causing him to stumble forward again.

"I was focused on this assignment," continues Suho. He brings Sieun's wrist to his lips, leaving a fleeting kiss there. His eyes meet Sieun's, who is towering over him. "It's been driving me fucking crazy."

A shiver runs down Sieun's spine but he manages to suppress it well enough. Suho continues leaving kisses up his arm, slowly guiding it around his neck the higher that he goes.

"You're doing an assignment right now?"

As if to emphasise Baku's point, the song downstairs changes and the bass thuds through the floorboards.

"I guess that makes sense if you're tryna make it as difficult as possible to complete."

After laughing at his own joke, unaware of what is happening on the other side of the door, how Suho and Sieun are staring at each other as Suho kisses his skin, Baku continues, "Anyway, have you seen Sieunie? He was meant to be in my room, but he's not."

Sieun looks at the door over his shoulder, his stomach twisting.

A hand on his leg guides him back onto the chair, seated in Suho's lap. Sieun turns to him and finds their faces inches apart, with Suho's head already tipped back, waiting.

"I don't think I locked the door," Sieun whispers.

"Yeah," Suho answers Baku, eyes darting over Sieun's face. "He's in here with me."

Sieun's eyes widen and he tries to push away from Suho once more but Suho is anticipating it this time and keeps him trapped between his arms.

"Oh, chill. He asleep?"

"Yeah," Suho responds. "Think he wanted the company."

Scowling, Sieun resorts to smacking his hands over Suho's face so that he does not have to see his expression.

"Right. Well, when he wakes up just let him know that my room's free if he wants it."

Something wet and rough runs over Sieun's palm. He jolts, hands shooting back and revealing Suho with his tongue out.

Even though Sieun glares at him, Suho just grins. "He's fine here."

With that, he kisses Sieun again.

Sieun wishes he did not melt into it. Wishes that his panic over Baku being on the other side of a potentially unlocked door lasted more than a few seconds after Suho's lips find his.

But he is rarely that lucky.

Suho's hands slide across his back, so big and warm that they burn through Sieun's shirt.

"Fuck," groans Suho.

Sieun has hardly broken the kiss when he whispers, "Don't speak. He's outside."

"He left, baby," Suho says in a quiet voice. "Didn't you hear him go?"

Sieun flushes as he shakes his head. A finger runs over his lips, knuckle almost slipping into his mouth.

"Guess you really missed me, huh?" Suho murmurs. "I'm all you can focus on right now?"

Sieun's head shakes again, but it lacks any real disagreement.

"I missed you too, baby."

Sieun already feels lightheaded.

All he can focus on is Suho, as he stands up and carries him over to the bed. His lips explore Sieun's neck and shoulder, coaxing those little gasps from him that he loves.

Once Sieun is dropped to the mattress, Suho crowds in on his space, whispering about how natural it is for Sieun to be here, beneath him. How much sense it all makes.

Sieun gets drunk on it.

It is only when Suho pulls his legs either side of him that Sieun remembers the door.

"Suho— Suho, the door," he pants out.

Suho's hands halt where they are unbuttoning his jeans. He kisses Sieun's jaw. "No one's gonna come into my room, baby. You know that."

"Please."

It does not take much convincing.

Sighing, Suho gets up and walks over to the door. He flips the lock, pulling a face to emphasise that he has done as asked.

From where he is catching his breath atop the bed, Sieun watches him. He must look a mess, frazzled with his jeans unbuttoned and shirt halfway up his torso.

Yet, Suho's eyes scan him from head to toe like Sieun is some art piece that he wants for his own collection.

"I missed this view," he says in a low, sultry voice.

Sieun swallows.

Suho starts towards the bed again, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it overhead. He disposes of it on the floor before his hands get to work on his jeans, the metal belt the only sound other than Sieun's heavy breathing.

When his knees hit the mattress, Suho kicks off the jeans and his hands busy themselves removing Sieun's clothes, too.

Without being asked, Sieun lifts his arms to assist Suho with taking his top off. Next goes his jeans.

Suho fits himself between Sieun's legs, stroking the thighs that rest over his own.

It is a familiar routine—Sieun drowning in Suho.

Suho's sweet words finding him between moans, the consuming feeling of a body—Suho's—pressed atop his, their fingers interlaced to the side of his head, and all the tears that Suho persuades from Sieun's glistening eyes.

"Remember how I make you feel, Sieun-ah," Suho breathes against his ear. "Never forget this. This is what you want. I'm what you want. None of those other guys you try to entertain. They'll never make you feel like this—like I do."

And Sieun remains quiet other than his mewls and moans, only offering Suho's name on occasion when it gets too much. Clawing at muscles that roll beneath skin as Suho makes him come apart on that mattress as he has done time and time again.

He wakes up in the early hours of the next morning in Suho's arms and his pyjamas.

Suho does not wake up as Sieun slips out of bed and changes into his clothes from the night before.

His walk of shame through the share house is dead silent. There are no witnesses other than his own self-castigation. But that is worth a thousand people.

What interrupts the morning quiet is the sound of an engine as a taxi appears at the end of the street, coming to a halt beside Sieun.

He gets inside without looking back at the house.

Suho does not text him after that night. Whether because he is giving Sieun space or because he thinks everything has been solved, Sieun is not certain.

The problem is—as has been the problem since the beginning—Sieun cannot avoid the share house for very long. His one and only best friend of many years lives there. If they are not studying in the library, then there is nowhere for them to be but at the share house.

It is why he has gotten so close to Baku and Gotak even though he is not one to warm up quickly to new people.

It is also why there have been many, many opportunities for him to be left alone in Suho's company and make the fatal mistake of getting attached. Too attached.

Since before Juntae moved in, movie nights on a Thursday were an established thing. The only difference is that now there are two additional participants: Juntae and Sieun.

In all plans, it is assumed they come as a pair.

Sieun has been finding excuses on-and-off since everything went awry to not attend. The one time that he did show up, Suho was busy elsewhere.

He has gotten lucky thus far, which is rare, especially as of late.

But today, he is down on his luck.

He follows Juntae through the front door, eyes skipping over Baku and Gotak. Though his mouth is another story; he greets them as he searches for any sign of Suho.

There is none to be found. He must not be at home.

Sighing in relief, Sieun lets his backpack fall to the floorboards beside Juntae and pads over to the couch where things are already set up.

Gotak and Baku ask him about the lecture he just had and they end up discussing the professor, who they also had the displeasure of learning from last year.

The lights overhead flicker off and the only thing illuminating the couch is the glow of the television.

Everyone is already on the couch. Nobody has moved.

Sieun's eyes drill into the bright movie logo until it is searing his retina. He refuses to look behind him.

"Thanks," Gotak says from the other end of the couch.

A second later, a hand taps the side of Sieun's head.

"Mind making some room?"

Sieun does not say anything but shuffles over, creating a gap between himself and the armrest.

Suho lowers himself onto the couch with a groan, slinging an arm on the pillows behind Sieun.

After a moment, Sieun risks a look.

Suho is already staring at him. His tongue runs against his bottom teeth twice before he brushes a hand over his jaw. Like he is manually adjusting his expression.

"Hey," he greets in a quiet voice.

The other three are talking between them as they flip through the potential candidates that they have saved. It always takes approximately an hour to settle on one, and by that time, they have already cleared out the prepared snacks and end up ordering takeaway.

Suho's mouth opens again once he realises Sieun is not going to respond. That is enough for Sieun to shoot off the couch.

"Does anyone want a blanket?"

There comes a chorus of agreement, so he walks off to the small closet. He grabs the soft fabric on the lower shelf and tucks it under his arm.

The second is on the shelf above, high enough that Sieun normally has to get on his tiptoes.

Everyone in the share house except Juntae and him can reach it.

Before he can even lift his heels off the floor, an arm reaches above his head, the other too busy attaching to his waist to assist.

The throw is tugged down.

Sieun watches with his lips folded into a thin line.

"I said hey, Sieun-ah," Suho says, low and near his ear.

"I heard you."

"Mm." The hand squeezes his waist. "Back to ignoring me, then?"

Sieun manages to turn even though he is trapped between Suho and the shelves in the wall. When he does, he cuts Suho a cool glare. "It was a mistake."

Suho nods, something flashing in his eyes. "And two weeks before that?"

The last time Sieun had tried to find someone to leave with just to end up stuck by Suho's side for the entire night, a hand loose by his waist that made him wish it was only them there. The way that their gazes had latched onto each other and refused to budge, until Suho had to forcibly remove himself from the couch.

How Sieun had trailed after him like a lost lamb.

How he had pouted when Suho headed towards the stairs.

How, in the shadows of the hallway when no one was looking, Suho had to console him with kisses to the top of his head, hugging him until Sieun stopped sniffling and shoved him away.

"Also a mistake."

Looking to the side, Suho huffs as if he finds it funny. The noise lacks any humour.

Shoving past him again, Sieun hands the throw that he grabbed to his friends on the couch.

The storage door clicks closed and Suho strolls over, returning to his place against the armrest.

Once he is sat, he lets his legs spread.

There is almost no room left for Sieun to squeeze into on the couch.

Logically, he could just ask Juntae to switch places with him if he wants to avoid Suho.

But they do not know.

None of them are aware of anything.

Everything has been behind closed doors.

So, Sieun has no choice but to walk over to Suho.

Suho adjusts himself a little more so that his legs go further apart.

Sieun tries not to ogle at how his hips lift as he moves.

Unfolding the blanket, Suho holds it up, waiting.

The others are too absorbed in their search for the perfect movie; they remain blissfully unaware of the silent war happening to their side.

Sieun's bottom lip juts out slightly.

Suho continues to stare at him with so much patience.

Finally, Sieun turns on his foot and sits down in the gap.

Which is not big enough for him, so he ends up halfway in Suho's lap.

The throw lands over them within the second, hiding their proximity from view.

Suho hauls Sieun a little closer.

"You comfortable?" he asks.

"I'd be more comfortable if you weren't here," Sieun bites out, quiet enough that only Suho can hear.

"No you wouldn't. And this is my house, Sieun-ah."

And God if Sieun is not very much aware of that.

He cannot escape Suho.

"You left when I was sleeping, baby," Suho whispers. "My feelings were hurt."

Sieun scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Unbelievable. You're unbelievable."

"Is that what it was to you? A quick fuck to get rid of some anger?"

Sieun's head whips back, glowering at Suho.

Their faces are too close for his liking.

Suho's eyes dip to his mouth before he meets his gaze again.

It does not escape Sieun's notice how he licks his lips.

"So what if it was?" Sieun hisses.

Gaze hardening, Suho tugs Sieun closer. He drops his head so that when he speaks, his lips are brushing the shell of Sieun's ear.

"You don't mean that, so I'm gonna pretend you didn't say it, mm?"

Hidden beneath the throw, one of Suho's hands strokes over his thigh. It moves with the same reassurance he tries to provide Sieun in every touch. As always, it just breeds more confusion and frustration in its wake.

Biting his bottom lip, Sieun faces the television again.

His ear is kissed, the sensitive skin behind it, and down to his jaw. He endeavours to keep any reaction far from his face.

"I'm glad you're here tonight, Sieun-ah. I don't like you avoiding me."

"Well, you should get used to it," Sieun says between gritted teeth.

Suho chuckles against his skin before withdrawing. "I won't. You won't be able to keep this up long enough."

Although he is probably right, it is so offensive that Sieun almost wants to cry.

Suho, who always has so much faith in him, believing him incapable.

He sniffs, facing away from Suho entirely and to his friends instead.

The movie they decide on is a horror set in the woods at night. With no other lights on, the entire house is almost pitch black.

Sieun never really likes this genre of movies—the darkness, the suspense that never gets resolved, the gratuitous gore, and everything else that comes in the package.  

Well, he used to, when the dark gave him the cover he needed to sit happily in Suho's lap, whispering between them whenever the volume got loud enough. Sneaking a kiss or two while the others were preoccupied.

It should not surprise him that halfway through the movie he has ended up completely in Suho's lap. Arms looped around him and tangled with his own against his legs. Suho's thumb brushing over his palm whenever the movie makes him tense.

He does not know when exactly Suho speaks, but it is long enough that the comment should have vacated Sieun's mind.

But it has not.

Nor has it vacated Suho's.

"What I said earlier," Suho whispers, "I didn't mean you couldn't if you wanted to, Sieun-ah. You can do anything you want, baby, I've told you that since we first met. But you don't want to. You don't want to avoid me. That's why you're in my lap right now. You really don't want to. And that's okay. You're gonna come back to me, 'cause that's what you want in the end. You've just gotta accept that first. And I'm patient."

When he finishes speaking, he kisses Sieun's cheek before sinking further into the couch.

Sieun remains still for a few more minutes until there is a brutal death on screen.

Only then does he stand up, shedding the throw and walking away.

Juntae asks where he is going.

Sieun tells him the bathroom.

For the remainder of the movie, he sits on the bathroom floor and cries.

He is alerted that the movie is over when voices permeate through the floor from downstairs. Without fail, the moment that the credits roll, the couch will launch into a heated discussion as if they were professional movie critics or a board of directors. The confidence with which Baku and Gotak share their opinion would make anyone think they had the slightest inclination what they were talking about.

Sieun, on the other hand, has always been mostly content to listen. Playing with Suho's hand under the throw. Smiling shyly to himself when it earns him Suho's implicit attention—a nail scratching his palm to tickle him or their fingers being interlaced.

If Suho was there, Sieun was often distracted.

Even if he were downstairs now, he would surely be more mindful of Suho than the conversation.

Before leaving the bathroom, he gives himself a rudimentary scan in the mirror, washing his face clean of any rosy splotches.

As he takes the steps one at a time, he fabricates a lie about feeling nauseous to cover for his absence and uses it the second he is bombarded with questions.

Once they are done fussing over him, Baku and Gotak demand that he stay the night. He often does after their movie nights.

They do not like him heading home at such a late time.

Suho especially.

So, Baku and Gotak get busy pulling the underside of the couch out so that it transforms into a bed-couch, and Juntae heads upstairs for some bedding.

Suho is good at not letting anything show. Other than his eyes straying to Sieun every time that someone had been talking earlier, he does not outright call for his attention, or make his too obvious.

Sieun is just all too aware of him.

The second they are alone, a hand brushes over Sieun's wrist, followed by the question of whether he is okay.

Sieun says he is.

But that night, long after everyone has retired to bed, he cannot escape the sadness from earlier, filling the space of the couch-bed where someone else's body should be.

It is much too big for just him, so all his thoughts and emotions try to fill it. They suffocate him in the process.

In the whole house—the whole world—there is only one place for him to escape it.

A pervasive stillness has descended upon the share house, broken up by the sound of Baku's intermittent snoring coming from his bedroom. That is why, when a door creaks open, it echoes so loudly through the landing.

Sieun is too tired to really care.

A click submerges the bedroom in darkness again.

He does not even get the chance to move one step before a light emits from the left corner and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

Although his eyes widen at first, they quickly half as he squints against the glare.

There comes a few seconds of silence before someone speaks.

"Hey, baby," Suho says, voice grumbly with sleep. "What's up? Feeling sick?"

Shaking his head, Sieun dawdles in the doorway. Maybe it was a better idea to remain downstairs.

That thought is vanquished when Suho lifts the quilt from the mattress, open and inviting for Sieun to crawl into.

Eyes fixed on the ground, Sieun trudges over, getting under the sheets. Immediately, he is engulfed by the heat radiating off of Suho's body.

The blanket is tucked to the other side of him and Suho pulls him close until they are almost one.

Once he is content with how close they are, he hums. Though, with sleep still weighing down his voice, it is nothing more than a gruff sound.

"I didn't come here for sex. I don't want to have sex right now, Suho," mumbles Sieun.

The chest at his side rumbles. A sleepy laugh. Sieun wishes it lasted longer so that he could bury his face into Suho's chest and seek out shelter within the amusement.

"Mmm… I wasn't planning on it," Suho breathes, squeezing him.

Those words alone are enough to fill all the space in the room, not allowing any gaps for Sieun's thoughts to reside.

He scrunches his face shut, nuzzling into Suho's neck. It earns him a lethargic stroke up and down his back, so slow as if Suho is being coaxed to sleep by it.

Sieun's skin is buzzing. A tremor begins in his hands and spreads through his body.

After a minute or so passes, Suho releases a soft noise, shifting in bed so that he can keep Sieun even closer.

"Are you cold?" he asks in that grumbly voice of his.

Sieun does not answer, just closes his eyes and waits for sleep to ruin the peace he has found in Suho's embrace.

University drains him until he is sapped of energy. Lectures, tutorials, and social events alike have him crashing at the end of the day as nothing more than a husk of a person.

The best remedy used to be seeing Suho afterwards, or just lounging around at the share house. That is no longer an option for him, though.

It is for that reason he begins to crave his lab hours more than ever. Out of everything on his schedule, it is by far the most enjoyable.

A large part of why is his lab partner, Soohyun.

He is not much like Sieun in character, but he has a kind of air that just makes you relax.

Sieun is usually immune to those kinds of people. Maybe because oftentimes it is just a hoax for someone who expects to get their way if they act like they don't care.

But Soohyun is really easy to be around.

If Sieun had not spent the months before dashing out the second that lab ended to make the most of the few hours before Suho's housemates returned, they likely would be much closer by now.

Perhaps that is why, for the past few weeks, they have been bonding more than before.

Soohyun reminds Sieun of Suho a little. Though, nobody could be remotely similar to Suho, not in the way that he influences Sieun so easily.

The first time that Sieun does not immediately disappear after lab finishes, Soohyun asks if he wants to grab a coffee. Sieun agrees.

They talk about their practical, notes, and exams.

The second time, the conversation dips into more personal territory—people they have met at university, the baked goods served there that Soohyun recommends, and Sieun's high school experience.

Little bits of information that create a more solid picture beyond just two people with the highest grades in their course.

In the same way that Sieun defected to the share house when it got too much, he finds himself soothed by those afternoons sitting by a cafe window.

It becomes routine by the third week.

On the fourth, their off-topic conversations begins before they have even left lab, halfway through a practical that should have required their utmost concentration. Thankfully, they are both good multitaskers and wrap it up without a hitch. Their conversation, on the hand, persists long after they have left the lab.

It is a week or so later that they are huddled beside each other, Soohyun adjusting the petri dish on the microscope stage.

They ended up talking about Baku and Gotak a few minutes ago after a comment Sieun made in passing about them.

Apparently, they have mutual friends.

"I was wondering why you only ever went to their parties," Soohyun muses. "Makes sense now."

"You've been?"

Sieun has never noticed him there.

Then again, why would he?

His eyes were—are—always seeking out one person, and only him. Everyone else fades into the backdrop.

"If there's one thing they can do it's throw a damn good party," answers Soohyun. "Never had a bad experience in that house."

An unwitting snort escapes Sieun and he turns away for a second as if that would make it inadmissible.

Soohyun glances over with a curious look. "What's funny about what I said?"

He motions for Sieun to step into the space before the microscope and take over.

Once he is staring at the bacteria through the lens, Sieun begins adjusting it again. "The timing of your comment was funny. That's all."

A short silence follows; though not quite, because the entire room is filled with the chatter of other partners. Just between them.

"Is this the same thing that's made you stop running out the door the second lab ends?"

Another thing about Soohyun is how extremely observant he can be. Sieun has noticed it in small doses, but he never thought it would become something he would have to reckon with.

After a second, he makes a non-committal sound.

He can feel Soohyun's stare radiating from his left.

"Maybe you need to fly the nest."

Sieun levels his lab partner with a raise of his brows. "I'm twenty."

"I mean other parties and people. If things have gone sour."

"It's not like that," Sieun says, followed by a sigh. "There's someone I don't really want to see that's always attending the parties."

Unavoidable, seeing that he he lives there, but Soohyun does not need to know that.

"My point stands."

They switch places again. While Sieun jots down his observations in the lines of his workbook margin, Soohyun swaps out the dish, too.

"Do I seem like someone who is friends with party goers?" asks Sieun.

Once the microscope is set up, Soohyun motions to himself. "My friend's throwing one next weekend."

"How convenient." It comes off a little wry, which earns him a smile. "I wouldn't know anyone."

"Wow…" Soohyun's smile grows. "And here I thought we'd bonded."

"Maybe," Sieun says with a little humour, "But I'm not expecting you to stick to my side the whole night."

Like Suho does.

Did.

Soohyun shrugs, lowering his head to the apparatus. "I tend to stay in one place at parties. I really wouldn't mind sticking by you if you wanted to come along."

The sincerity catches Sieun off guard. His pen suspends in the air a few inches above the sheet.

It takes a few more moments before Soohyun glances over and adds, "No pressure. Just a thought. It might be fun. Especially if you haven't been having any recently."

"Fun is the last thing I'd use to describe a party," Sieun says.

A low laugh comes from Soohyun at that.

Before he can say anything in response, Sieun continues, "But, thank you. I'll think about it."

He is surprised to realise he genuinely means it.

"Cool. Just shoot me a text. She lives near campus so I think it should be pretty easy to get there."

Sieun hums.

The topic is shelved while they wrap up their experiment ten minutes ahead of the other groups and leave to go get their coffee fix, discussing the readings they have been given for the following week.

The party weighs on Sieun's mind for the remainder of the day and well into the night.

"Baku finished the gochujang sauce and didn't think to tell anyone," Sieun repeats back what he was just told as he switches his phone from his left shoulder to his right, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

"Yes!" cries Juntae, a clatter sounding in the back. "Shit—"

"Why do you live with these men?" Sieun says under his breath, though it lacks any substance.

He cares deeply for the two, even if they do make Juntae's—and by extension, his—hair fall out sometimes.

"I think they'd die without me. Suho could survive, but the other two are toast."

Sieun's smile fades from his face upon hearing that name. His nail digs into the side of his finger, picking at loose skin.

"Is nobody else at home?"

"No… I'm sorry, Sieun-ah. I wouldn't be bothering you otherwise."

Tension easing out of his shoulders, Sieun shakes his head. "It's okay, Jun. It'll take me literally ten minutes."

"You're the best. I will be giving you double their portion size for your help."

Before Sieun can tell Juntae that he has no plans on staying for dinner, the line goes dead.

He stares at his phone for a few seconds before pocketing it with a sigh.

The store is halfway between the share house and campus. Two stops by bus.

He blinks and finds himself at the self-checkout, scanning the gochujang sauce.

After swiping his card, he picks up the tub and heads out, nodding at the worker who is stacking baskets near the entrance.

Once he is outside, he unzips the pocket of his backpack and stuffs the container inside.

His head lifts from the pavement.

He should have kept it down and kept walking.

Within a second of their eyes meeting, Sieun returns his to the ground and turns on his foot, heading down the street.

He does not get very far.

"The pretty boy in the grey zip-up!"

Two ladies stop a few steps ahead of Sieun and stare at him, intrigued.

"Want a ride? It's totally free for a sexy thing like yourself! I'll give you the ride of your life!"

Whether it is the giggle from the ladies or being called 'sexy thing' in the middle of the street that makes Sieun go a radioactive shade of red, it does not matter.

The result that comes of it is exactly what the caller wants.

In seconds, Sieun is back where he started, smacking a hand over Suho's mouth as he hisses, "Do you mind?"

He can feel how Suho's lips are curled into a big, cocky grin against the skin of his palm.

Suho laces his hands behind Sieun, staring up at him. His eyes twinkle. It almost seems as though he is excited to have Sieun's attention, but it is much more likely that he is just amused over eliciting such a strong reaction from him.

He has always had a penchant for making Sieun react in ways he never usually would. Has always had a penchant for learning sides of Sieun that should have stayed hidden until someone else—anyone other than Suho—came along.

But Suho unlocked them all, and ever since, they have been his to keep.

He must know that.

Especially as his eyes crinkle with amusement before he speaks.

"We wouldn't have this problem if you just didn't ignore me."

Sieun's arms drop to his side.

"Unless we're at the share house, we're strangers," he says, tone biting.

Arching a brow, Suho replies, "Do you sleep in the same bed as strangers? Do you sit in their lap more than you sit on the couch? Do you have sex with them when your friends are just outside? Or ride them so good that they still get hard just from thinking about it?"

"We are in public!" A pause. "And I don't do that with strangers, Suho. I sure as hell don't do it with my friends either."

"Good," Suho says. "'Cause I'm neither."

"You're both."

"You know that's not true."

"Why are you even here?!" Sieun cries, still barely speaking above a whisper. It is the outrage in his tone that is making it sound like he is yelling. "What compels you to appear at random just to ruin my mood?! I was doing fine today."

"I missed you," murmurs Suho. "Haven't you missed me?"

"No."

Suho tilts his head. "Don't lie."

"… I didn't."

"I came all this way to pick you up and you can't even be honest with me? Hm?"

Sieun wants the ground to open and swallow him whole. A part of him wishes that he had left Juntae to be gochujang-sauce-less. Especially in hindsight, knowing that Suho was inbound to arrive home only a little while after their call ended.

"If you're already so certain, why ask?"

It comes off more defeated than Sieun intends. An admission in itself.

"'Cause I wanna hear you say it, baby. I miss hearing all the pretty things you'd say to me."

The side of Sieun's fist weakly makes contact Suho's shoulder. "You don't deserve it."

"But you still wanna give it to me."

Sieun's eyes lower to the pavement, his bottom lip poking out.

Sullenly, he admits, "I missed you."

"Yeah?"

"Mn."

A groan. "I missed you more, baby. It's been so tough not having you around when I'm stressed. You always make me feel so much better."

Ignoring the way that comment makes his stomach flip and how he preens internally as if bestowed some prestigious title, Sieun bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head.

"No? 'No' what?" prompts Suho.

Sieun just shakes his head again.

"Baby, look at me."

A second passes.

Tentative yet obedient, Sieun raises his head.

A soft smile grows on Suho's face. It is like a siren song; Sieun is truly helpless to it. "Didn't you miss me, too?"

"I already said I did," Sieun mumbles.

"I wanna hear it again."

Sieun wants many things but he cannot have them.

First and foremost, Ahn Suho.

Second, to stop being so easily persuaded by the smooth voice in his ear and the way Suho's eyes stare at him as if he is the only person around for miles.

Third, to develop feelings for someone else.

"I missed you," Sieun says, voice wobbling slightly. "Can we go, please?"

Suho studies him for a few seconds before he offers him the spare helmet.

"Yeah."

Something like frustration laces his voice, but all Sieun can focus on is getting on the bike, arriving at the share house, and delivering the gochujang sauce.

If he thinks about anything else right now, he might break down.

His arms wrap around Suho, and at every red light, Suho dedicates their idle moments to stroking Sieun's hands.

Once the bike is parked in its usual spot out the front of the share house, Sieun dismounts, shoving the helmet into Suho's chest and storming inside.

His arrival almost makes Juntae weep in relief. When Suho walks in a minute later, hair mussed, Juntae puts on a show of bowing all the way down to the ground for them both.

When his head is dipped low enough that all he must be able to see is floorboards, Suho sneaks a hand across Sieun's lower back, fingertips dancing dangerously low.

Tensing, Sieun can barely register the kiss Suho leaves atop his head as he walks past into the kitchen.

Juntae follows, explaining the dish he is cooking to Suho before deciding it best to just hand him the recipe book.

Suho's eyes skim over the pages as he folds the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. He runs his hands through his hair, taming the unkempt look he managed to acquire in the short time before he trailed Sieun inside.

Sieun's back burns where Suho touched it.

He stays rooted between the living room and kitchen, watching as Suho starts to help Juntae with preparing dinner. His teeth gnaw at the inside of his cheek, biting down so hard that it hurts.

It takes a few minutes of him observing from the outside like a spectator—just long enough for the remaining traces of Suho's touch to mellow into a steady throb—for Sieun to take his phone out and text Soohyun.

The response comes surprisingly quick.

A small celebratory message followed by an address.

Sieun recognises the street name as one nearby. A ten minute drive from the house he is currently standing in.

Soohyun asks if he will need a lift.

Sieun says he will be fine.

"Who're you texting?"

Looking up from his phone, Sieun finds Juntae watching him, waggling his brows.

"Nobody. Just my lab partner about our practical next week."

It disappoints Juntae, completely oblivious that the person who could offer the most riveting gossip for him to enjoy is arm to arm with him in the kitchen, eyes neglecting the knife in his hand so that he can study Sieun.

Sieun breaks the eye contact first, rounding the front of the couch and slumping into the pillows.

Fifteen minutes later, Suho is shooed out of the kitchen and winds up standing before Sieun, staring down at him.

His eyes flit to the side with a slight jut of his chin.

Sieun shakes his head. "Sit there."

Glancing at the opposite side of the couch where Sieun motioned to, Suho tongues his cheek.

But he goes and sits down as instructed.

A second later, his head is laid upon Sieun's lap.

Sieun somehow swallows down the gasp that almost bursts from him, curbing his reaction into nothing more than a momentary hitch of his breath.

Suho's hand reaches up and strokes his cheek.

Sieun attempts to bat him away, but his wrist gets caught and Suho starts kissing his palm relentlessly until the ticklish feeling is too much to ignore and it forces a breathy giggle from Sieun as he tries to wrench free.

The sound makes Suho's smile bloom even brighter and he nibbles on the side of Sieun's hand before kissing his pulse.

Sieun almost melts completely.

It is somehow enough to purge all awareness from his body; he forgets where they are, the people that could see Suho acting so childish, and himself.

Until the flat of Suho's tongue runs over the pulse in his wrist.

Only then does Sieun yank it back and slide both his hands under his thighs to cut off Suho's access to them.

After sighing, Suho crosses his arms and lets his eyes fall shut.

"I'm tired," he murmurs.

Sieun wants to comb his fingers through Suho's hair and ask him to share all his troubles. Maybe that will lessen the burden on him.

But his hands are tied. So is his tongue.

He just stares at Suho, now with unrestricted access to admire his face without it being accompanied by any commentary.

It is a bad idea for his heart. He does not need to make more of a fool of himself, but he simply cannot help it.

Time passes quickly with him just staring.

However long it takes Juntae to speak from in the kitchen, Sieun's legs have long since become unresponsive with pins and needles.

"Where'd Suho go?"

Sieun glances back over the pillows at his friend before saying, quietly, "He's laying down and napping. He must be tired."

He hates how soft his voice goes when he talks about Suho. That slight shift in his intonation only he seems to notice. Or maybe nobody has the heart to tell him how obvious it is.

"Is he in your space?" Juntae asks. "I can ask him to move."

Sieun shakes his head.

Not just because he cannot let Juntae see Suho's head in his lap, but also because Suho being in his space has never been an issue like it is with other people.

It feels natural for him to be there.

And Sieun does not want to lose this quiet moment.

"No, he's not bothering me."

Juntae nods and tells him to let him know if that changes.

It probably will not. Ever.

With that, Sieun faces forward again, head lowering to Suho.

When he finds Suho's eyes open, staring up at him, Sieun freezes.

Suho does not look amused, entertained, flirtatious, or any of the usual expressions that he cycles through when he has Sieun's attention.

His mouth is flat, there is no crinkle by the corners of his eyes, and no swell of his cheeks. Not even a lift of his brow. Inexpressive, just staring.

The scrutiny almost pushes Sieun to break the silence. He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, a buzz interrupts him.

Untucking one hand from under his thigh, he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

He holds it to the right of his lap. The screen lights up, revealing a follow-up text from Soohyun. It details his friends who are also going to the party, including photos and what they are like drunk.

The corner of Sieun's mouth tugs up and he taps on the notification, freeing his other hand so that he can type out a response.

"Who are you texting?"

Sieun's phone is now covering Suho from view, and his voice startles Sieun.

"My lab partner," he replies after a moment.

A hand covers the screen.

"You're such a workaholic."

Offended, Sieun almost corrects him that they are not discussing coursework but decides against it at the last minute.

Instead, he presses the power button of his phone and leaves it face down on the couch pillow, making a mental note to reply later.

Suho smiles. "I'm not sleeping anymore, so—"

"Get off my lap, then," interrupts Sieun.

Some of his hair is tucked behind his ear. The callouses of Suho's fingers leave behind a faint trace where they skim against his temple.

"I thought I wasn't bothering you."

Suho can be so soft-spoken at times that Sieun forgets to react to what he is saying instead of how he sounds.

It is something of a siren song that lulls Sieun into complaisance.

"You're always bothering me," he says.

Suho's hand cups one side of his jaw. "'Cause you're always thinking about me?"

A creak sounds from outside.

In the few seconds before the handle of the front door rattles, Suho has put a polite distance between them and Sieun's knees are drawn up to his chest.

Baku and Gotak arrive with a bundle of groceries between their arms and and the former begins to churn out apologies to both Juntae and Sieun.

As they walk past they dap Suho up, asking questions about his day, more personal than the usual small talk Sieun often hears. Baku asks if the 'project situation' got resolved, and Gotak inquires about someone whose name is vaguely familiar.

Dragging his gaze away, Sieun picks up his phone from the side and finishes off his response to Soohyun. Clicking on the images that were sent, he finds a line-up of the most awkward, 'criminal head-shot' looking photos of Soohyun's friends.

Amusement bubbles up in Sieun's chest and he lets out a small chuckle under his breath.

He asks if Soohyun was holding them at gunpoint when he took the photos. Soohyun defends his honour, only to follow up with a photo where the barrel of a Nerf gun is visible in the corner, the blonde man on screen cowering in fear.

That gets a snort from Sieun.

He answers a final time before switching off his phone and sliding it into his pocket.

As natural as second nature, his eyes flick over to Suho.

Still in conversation with Gotak, Suho's mouth is moving, but his eyes are trained on Sieun, studying him.

Sieun flushes and dips his head, hoping that Gotak is too occupied with listening to Suho to notice his reaction.

Unsurprisingly, there is no lie good enough for Sieun to excuse himself before dinner. He runs over a few in his head, but he knows they will fall short.

Just as he knows that his friends would accept it if he said he was going to go home, as long as he confirmed he was planning on eating there.

Sieun just has an odd habit of always needing an excuse to be foolproof for him to use it.

Maybe because as much as he tells Suho to his face that he is avoiding him, the thought that Suho would know the truth of why Sieun is leaving makes him feel much too guilty.

So, Sieun stays for dinner, joining in the conversation where he sees fit and ignoring the pair of eyes across the table that find him every moment that neither of them are speaking.

After, Suho offers to drive him home, but Sieun uses the excuse of his earlier exhaustion to reject him.

Suho's jaw clenches and he shoves his hands into his pockets. But he nods. Does not push.

He still walks Sieun to the bus stop and waits with him until the bus arrives.

Only a few days have passed since Sieun agreed to go to the party, but he is already beginning to question his decision. Definitely a rash one.

He seems to be a victim to his whims whenever Suho is involved, which is so foreign to him. He has never been the type before; every choice he used to make was always preceded by much deliberation.

Until the first time he kissed Suho.

In fact, Sieun had been slowly falling into the sweet temptation of Suho long before that, making decisions that were ill-fitting for his usual analytical self.

That is why the concept of going to the party is starting to unnerve him.

Or maybe it is the distance from Suho that is making him believe that he does not need to go. Things will settle with time, surely.

He is weighing up whether to recant his decision after a long lecture, when the thought of ending the week with a party feels akin to medieval torture. It is mid-afternoon and the sun has left a dreamy haze over the landscape of the university which only worsens his mood for some reason.

Something gnaws at him—an urge he has been trying to quell from the moment he stepped foot outside his lecture hall.

He really wants to seek out Suho whenever he feels so exhausted.

But he cannot, so he settles for getting some coffee and a slice of cake on his way home.

Sadly, the cafe is one that Suho introduced him to, so it is not really a Suho-less choice, but anything is better than going to see him, so Sieun does not get hung up on the semantics.

He is just outside when his eyes stumble upon a scene he is not expecting to see.

Of course, Suho is here.

Sieun's stomach drops while his traitorous heart leaps with joy.

Only to plummet a second later, too.

Because Suho is not alone.

Leaning against his side is someone Sieun does not recognise, though he feels like he should—should know of him if he is this close to Suho.

But has he ever been privy to any of Suho's life beyond the share house and his bedroom?

The realisation hits Sieun with enough force to almost floor him.

His legs buckle.

Suho laughs at something that the girl across from his says, head tipping back. The boy beside him pushes Suho's chin with a roll of his eyes.

A hand smacks over the boy's face, making his glasses topple to the floor.

Seething, the boy barks an order at Suho who raises his hands in a show of innocence.

Rooted outside, Sieun has no choice but to watch as Suho bends down to pick up the spectacles from under the table and with a faint smile, slides them back onto the boy's face. He taps his cheeks and says, "There."

At least, Sieun thinks he does.

The boy bats Suho's hands away with a huff but still ends up tilted towards Suho as they return to listening to the girl across the table.

This whole time, Sieun has been thinking that maybe Suho will come to realise that what they share means something; it has to be more than just hook-ups and whispers.

It means more than just locked doors.

It always has to Sieun.

But maybe that is all it can mean to Suho if there is someone else in his life that slots beside him so nicely.

Perhaps Sieun has always just been an easy fix to a problem much harder and bigger than him.

At some point, he has begun to walk away from the cafe without a coffee or treat in hand that can supplant the reward of Suho's comforting presence.

That has to wait until the weekend.

A chance to rid himself of the influence only Suho has had on him. To prove that someone else—anybody else—can make him feel just as Suho does.

Better, if he is lucky.

Hopefully without the aching and tears that sting his eyes.

Sieun is able to avoid the share house for the rest of the week until Saturday.

He tells Juntae that he needs a bit of space for a while.

He tells Baku and Gotak that he has been feeling a little under the weather.

He tells Suho absolutely nothing.

Either way, he still receives a text from him on the Friday morning asking if he is feeling better.

Another with some money and the link to the best soup restaurant that delivers in Sieun's suburb.

Even offers to get it for him after his final class. If Sieun is 'feeling cooperative'.

Sieun is feeling anything but that, so he gives the message a thumbs down and sends the money back.

Thankfully, he does not hear from Suho again after that.

An hour before the party on Saturday, he finds some green cargos that Baku and Gotak pushed him to buy and a white ribbed shirt. It is not exactly a party outfit, but Juntae has always told him that his face is the 'whole outfit'.

Not that Sieun necessarily believes him, he just does not like to dress up much, so he justifies the simplicity of the outfit with that excuse.

Still, when Soohyun notices him from where he is lounging on the front lawn, waiting, his brows shoot up his forehead.

"I didn't think that was your kind of style," he says in lieu of a greeting.

Sieun glances down at it and shrugs. "It's not."

"Well, it suits you."

After thanking him, the two head inside.

The party is not as big as the ones held at the share house, and most of the people there seem to at least be acquainted with each other.

Which is likely the reason that Sieun gets quite a few wide-eyed stares and double takes.

Soohyun leads them through to the kitchen and cracks open a bottle for him. Nodding his head in gratitude, Sieun tips it back and swallows a few consecutive mouthfuls.

Alcohol works funny in his system. The buzzy feeling begins at the first drop and by the end of his second bottle he is slightly dazed and giggly. Anything after that has no impact on his system, not really. Just loosens him up a little more—makes him a little more susceptible to his unbidden desires without thinking things through.

So, he chooses Suho's lap instead of the bed. And then, Suho's bed instead of his self-respect.

The memory serves to sour Sieun's mood not even five minutes after walking through the front door.

His eyes catch on blond hair and he points without much thought.

"Your hostage."

The blond man—Siwoo, if Sieun is recalling correctly—halts in his path, robotically turning towards the person who singled him out.

"His what, sorry?"

Feeling a little silly, Sieun tugs at his earlobe. "The nerf gun photo."

That registers quick in Siwoo's memory and his eyes light up. "You must be Sieun!"

Sieun nods.

"Soohyun's told me about you. Lab partners?"

Sieun nods again.

"So you're the reason I had a gun to my head for half an hour."

A small smile grows on Sieun's face, slightly wry.

Soohyun laughs as he begins to tell Sieun that his friend is greatly dramatising the duration that he spent taking photos of them.

Shortly after Siwoo joins the conversation between them, so do a few other recognisable faces from the photos.

It surprises Sieun how much it puts him at ease to know something as simple as just their names. He had enough time to memorise them beforehand, and even with the alcohol in his system, none of them slip his mind.

Plus, Soohyun is a good judge of character when it comes to the people he befriends. Even Baku and Gotak have one or two friends that rub Sieun the wrong way or seem to always end up saying the wrong thing, but that has not happened thus far with this group.

They make room for him in the conversation to speak if he so wishes, but even if he does not, there is no awkward silence or glances exchanged as if he has just made a mistake.

It puts him at ease.

He cycles through a few more drinks than he usually would.

At some point they end up in the living room, and he sits in the corner, talking to Yoonchae and Hayoon, the former of which drags an ottoman over and the latter who comes skipping over to sit in her lap.

Outside of Soohyun's friends, other people are littered throughout the house, many meandering towards the space beyond the doorway from the living room which has been reclaimed as the dance floor since before Sieun arrived.

The fuzzy feeling in Sieun's face worsens as he remembers the one time he attempted to dance with Suho. How they got lost in the crowd, finding a shadowed corner where they could move flush against one another without an audience, Suho's lips brushing the shell of his ear as he whispered to him.

Just thinking about it causes the skin at Sieun's waist to tingle with the memory of Suho's guiding hands, dictating how his hips swayed with the music.

It did not last more than a few songs before Suho was guiding his hips in a different way, still with Sieun's back to him, just on his bed instead.

He had said he liked the view.

So, Sieun had let him have what he wanted.

Wanted to give Suho everything.

His drunken mind is split between celebrating this being only his second thought of Suho all night or moping over it having occurred at all in the first place.

Before he can settle on one or the other, Yoonchae and Hayoon shriek and shoot off the ottoman, drawing all nearby eyes to them.

A few of their friends laugh knowingly. Sieun, on the other hand, is completely clueless on what warranted this reaction.

Until they both extend a hand to him and Hayoon says, "This is our song. You have to come dance with us, Sieun!"

"He doesn't have to," Soohyun inserts, narrowing his eyes at the two. Once they get the message, he faces Sieun with a shrug. "If you want to, I'll come along."

Maybe it is because the memory of his dance with Suho is still fresh on his mind, but Sieun pushes off the couch and stands on his feet.

Yoonchae and Hayoon are already barrelling through the doorway while Sieun idles at the side of the couch as Soohyun places down his drink and follows suit.

"You don't seem the dancing type," Soohyun comments as they walk away from the couch.

"I'm not."

"You keep saying that tonight," Soohyun says with an amused noise. "Very cryptic."

"I have to keep you on your toes." Sieun's tone is wry.

Yoonchae and Hayoon are on the fringes of the crowd dancing, hands in the air and eyes closed as they move with the music.

"I can't dance." Belatedly, Soohyun adds, "Just warning you."

With a breathy chuckle, Sieun shrugs. "When you're drunk, everyone can dance, even yourself."

"Should've had another bottle or two," mutters Soohyun, earning him another humoured huff from Sieun.

Despite what he claimed, Soohyun is far from atrocious.

And the dancing is far from Sieun's limited experience.

They are not really dancing together, not at all how he has with Suho.

It is sillier and feels like they are being controlled by alcohol and the beat more than anything. Definitely not what was driving him and Suho.

He does not know when Yoonchae and Hayoon disappear, too engrossed in his conversation with Soohyun.

When the chill from the open doors of the dance floor reaches him, Sieun tries to stifle his shivers and how they make his body jitter. After the third, Soohyun laughs and slips off the unbuttoned jersey he has over the top of his long sleeve.

"It probably won't help," he says as he offers it to Sieun.

It does not too much but Sieun is warmed by the thoughtful gesture.

The mixture of focus and inebriation makes time slip from his grasp. He has no idea how many songs have passed, only that it is enough for the amusement from Soohyun terribly replicating robot arms to have faded completely.

It is enough that Sieun is completely thrown into confusion when his arm is grabbed and he is dragged away from the dance floor.

He makes a protesting noise, stumbling over nothing. Unsure how to walk after so long dancing.

One second, he is on the dance floor and the next his back is to a wall and his vision is entirely blocked by someone.

By Suho.

"S—"

"What the fuck are you doing right now, Sieun?"

Sieun blinks.

The hard lines of anger across Suho's face become clearer. As does the clench of his jaw and the slight unevenness of his breath.

"What?"

"You do that shit where I can see it. Are we fucking clear?"

A short silence stretches, just long enough for Sieun to understand what Suho is demanding.

And for that to feed his irritation.

"You not being here was kind of the whole point of coming tonight, Suho," he says. "I didn't think you were here."

"I wasn't! I was having a night in with my fucking housemates, missing a certain someone's presence who's been fucking ghosting me, just to see him in the back of a photo dancing with another guy! Do you know how many traffic laws I just fucking broke to get here?"

The thought of Suho seeing a glimpse of him with another man and speeding on his motorcycle, anger rolling off him, brings a blush to Sieun's face in spite of the situation.

"You shouldn't have come if you didn't like what you saw. I told you I was going to do this. Why do you think I'm doing this for your attention?"

"You're cute," Suho says, a little sarcastic. "Plain and simple, baby, do you really think you're being believable when all you do is eyefuck me and tune out whatever the man of the night is saying? You make it too obvious you're doing this to get back at me."

Sieun stammers, trying to come to his own defence.

"It's always been about us, baby. So why the fuck are you wearing another guy's shirt? Coming to a party that I'm not at and dancing with a guy I don't know? Smiling like that at him? Do you want me angry? Is that it? 'Cause you fucking got it."

Biting his bottom lip, Sieun stares up at Suho without responding.

There is not much he can say in response.

Eventually, he gets out a simple, "He's my lab partner."

Whatever anger that has abated with Sieun's silence suddenly implodes between them.

"Are you serious?"

"Y—"

"Are you fucking serious, Sieun?"

"Suho." A little distressed.

"That's the asshole you were texting and smiling about while I was right fucking there? Laying in your fucking lap?"

Suho looks away, covering his eyes before running his hand down his face.

"It's not like—" Sieun bites his tongue before he can continue.

Is this not what he wanted? To show Suho that it is fully within his capabilities to choose someone else and follow through?

"It's not like this means anything," he says instead.

Suho's face is suddenly inches from his own.

"Do you wanna say that again, baby?"

Sieun stares at him through his lashes, mouth parting.

Suho's eyes dip and he lets out a low scoff.

"Doesn't mean anything but you're already begging for a kiss."

Sieun blinks before he realises that his tongue is resting over his bottom teeth. Waiting. Anticipating.

A warmth scalds his face and he seals his mouth shut.

Suho's head drops to his shoulder, hands finding his waist as they often do.

"What am I gonna do with you, Sieun-ah? When are you gonna accept I'm the only one? I just wanna go back to how it was. We were so good, baby, weren't we? Before you started pretending you cared about people other than me. And you just keep running back every time. This is no different. You wouldn't have gone through with it."

A sound almost like a squeak gets caught in Sieun's throat.

After a pause, he says, "Then why did you get so panicked you drove all this way?"

Suho withdraws, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"If you're so certain that I can't move on from you, Suho, why are you here right now? Why are you stopping me from dancing with someone else?" Sieun says it slow and deliberate. "Why do you care?"

Suho does not respond. He just stares at Sieun, a prominent crease between his brows.

Sieun does not look away for even a second.

Cannot, really.

Taking a deep breath, Suho forces a smile onto his face. It is void of any his usual warmth and leaves Sieun disconcerted. The rage in the tight smile also sends his stomach into a frenzy.

"Why do I care?" Suho repeats. "Why do I care? Because you know better than that. You know you don't wanna do this. You know it's about me, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise."

Sieun swallows.

"I don't belong to you," he says, voice shaking.

"Then why do you keep acting like you do?"

Sieun cannot say anything. His mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out.

"You know you do, Sieun-ah." Suho's hand squeezes Sieun's waist. A gentle reminder. "Don't kid yourself."

"And what about you, Suho?"

"Only you could make me this fucking crazy, baby," Suho says, almost groaning.

"Is that meant to be a good thing, that nobody else is giving you a hard time like I do?"

A beat passes. Suho tilts Sieun's head as if studying something unknown to him.

"I haven't been with anyone since I first met you, Sieun-ah. What are you saying right now?"

Sieun blinks once. Twice. His lips peel apart and he stares up at Suho with a wide-eyed gaze.

Suho's thumb runs over his bottom lip, brushing past the sensitive ending of his tongue.

"Hm? Is that what this is about? Making me jealous because you thought I've been messing around?" Suho clicks his tongue. "You're the only one looking for someone else, Sieun-ah. I've made myself pretty fucking clear."

There is a short silence. Sieun just staring until it brings a smirk onto Suho's face.

"Don't look at me like that, baby, or I'll kiss you right here. Bet your lab partner is gonna come and check on you soon, seeing you just got dragged away. What do you say? Wanna give him a show so he knows just who you belong to?"

Sieun lets out a sound he is not proud of, but he shakes his head. As if it makes him seem any less pathetic with how he is looking up at Suho as if he hung the moon.

Suho strokes his cheek. "Then you better take off his fucking shirt."

Sieun's hands are moving before his brain can remind him he does not have to listen to Suho.

When Soohyun's jersey is in his hand, he mumbles, "It's not like that. I was cold."

"You're dressed too light," sighs Suho.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Sieun's shoulders.

"A shirt like that isn't gonna do shit."

"Thank you…" Sieun mumbles, sliding his arms through the sleeves.

"Give that back to your lab partner then we can go."

"You don't have to say it like that," Sieun says, sullenly. "His name is Soohyun. He's nice."

Suho's jaw tightens. "Baby, you're really not helping your case right now. I don't give a fuck about him, so stop—"

"He's nice to me," Sieun interrupts, pout deepening. "Nicer than you. He doesn't act like this and he's nice."

"Nice." Suho looks away, tongue pressing against his cheek. "You don't think I'm nice?"

Sieun nods. His vision is hazy for some reason. "You're mean all the time."

Cupping his face, Suho feathers a kiss to his cheekbone before murmuring, "I'm sorry, baby. Hyung'll do better, yeah? I'll do better now, if you just go give that shirt back. Then we'll go back to mine, okay?"

After a second, Sieun nods. Though, with Suho's hands at his jaw, it just looks as though he is sinking into his hold. Which he is in a way. Yielding to Suho, as always.

Suho kisses his cheek again and Sieun does not fight it.

Once he is released, he navigates his way back to the dance floor, even though he cannot remember much of where Suho took him.

He finds Soohyun lingering at the edges, concern etched into his face.

Upon seeing Sieun, some of it eases away and he walks over, meeting him halfway.

"Sorry," Sieun says before he can speak. "And thank you for inviting me tonight. The shirt, too."

The fabric hangs from his hand, extended between them.

After a tentative second, Soohyun takes it. "Is that why?" he asks.

It takes a moment for Sieun to recognise what Soohyun means.

"You don't seem the type to gossip, but I'd really appreciate it if—"

"No, yeah. Of course." Soohyun rubs the back of his neck. "Also, just to be clear, I wasn't trying to…"

Humiliation festers in Sieun's stomach. "I know, don't worry. It was a misunderstanding. Someone posted a photo and we're dancing in the back."

That manages to break the awkwardness hanging between them as Soohyun lets out a loud laugh. "It better not have been my robot arms, I'll actually never leave my house again."

Sieun smiles too. "That was your best move of the night."

"Not the spin?"

A chuckle escapes Sieun as he shakes his head. The memory of Soohyun spinning is seared into his mind.

Soohyun's eyes lift and, a second later, there is a hand at Sieun's waist. "Ready to go?"

"Mm." Sieun answers without looking back. "I'll see you next week, Soohyun."

Soohyun nods with a smile before disappearing back into the living room.

"I'll see you next week?" Suho whispers into his ear. "You're so cheeky, sometimes."

Sieun blushes. "He's my lab partner. I can't help that."

"Oh, I know. I recognised that cologne on his shirt. You used to smell of it when you'd come over after lab. Why do you think I always gave you my clothes to wear after?"

Suho's hands guide him back into the hallway and towards the front door as he continues to speak low to him.

"And you smell like it now, too. Are you gonna let me get rid of that smell, baby? I'll be good."

A shiver runs up Sieun's spine. "I…"

"Wanna get fucked wearing my shirt again? You liked that a lot last time."

Sieun drives his elbow back into Suho. The rewarding yelp is accompanied by his hands on Sieun slackening, which gives him the opportunity to wriggle free and march on ahead.

His face is so red that he can feel the skin throbbing.

Suho catches up to him halfway down the front lawn.

"Mm, that was mean."

"You deserve it."

"Maybe I do. This way." He manoeuvres Sieun to start walking left down the street. "But aren't you glad I came? I bet you were thinking about when we danced together when you were with him."

Sieun does not acknowledge that with a response.

"Is that a yes?"

"Once," snaps Sieun.

"And you're glad I came?"

Again, Sieun goes quiet.

"Your silence is as good as an answer, baby. You've gotta know that."

"I wasn't trying to… I just wanted to be able to enjoy myself without thinking about you."

"Did it work?"

"No," Sieun mumbles, hanging his head. "It never does."

There is a short silence before he continues.

"And then you show up and all I can focus on is you. I hate it. You make me feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Sieun-ah." Suho sounds offended as if it is his character that has been insulted. "You just don't like the fact your emotions win over your logic. That doesn't mean you're stupid."

"I feel stupid. Stupid and spineless."

Suho stops them, swivelling Sieun around so they are facing each other. Frustration is evident in his expression.

"Is it that bad to let your heart decide?"

Sieun stares at him in the quiet of the street. The lamplight casts a glow over Suho. He looks so perfect that Sieun wants this to be a dream.

"When it comes to you, yes," he confesses.

His arms raise and wind around Suho's neck, lifting onto his tiptoes so that he can reach Suho's unsuspecting lips.

He closes his eyes before kissing Suho.

It starts slow, Suho too taken aback to reciprocate for long seconds.

Until his hands are at Sieun's waist and he is pushing back. Sieun falls onto the flat of his feet. Arms slide across his body, caging him in.

When Suho kisses back it feels almost reverent. Or maybe the light is glowing and Sieun knows he has just surrendered once again.

"Baby," Suho breathes between kisses. "I've never thought you're stupid. Or spineless."

"I know," Sieun replies, quietly. "I know you don't."

But it has never been about what Suho thinks, just how he makes Sieun feel.

That he chases him to a party, driven by pure jealousy, but a month and a half ago was confused when Sieun thought they were dating.

That he is going to take Sieun back to his bed, but he will not take him on a date.

That he wants Sieun to let his heart decide, but he refuses to let Sieun into his.

Sieun's fingers plunge into Suho's hair and rake against his scalp, earning him a sigh that is so soft it makes his chest hurt.

"Why have you been tired recently?" he asks.

There is no point in pretending not to care about Suho. Nobody believed it for a second, not even himself.

The sudden topic surprises Suho. He blinks, studying Sieun's face for answers.

"Just course stuff," he says eventually. "Don't worry about it."

A noncommittal noise comes from Sieun, because he knows he will.

Suho kisses the sound from his lips with a smile.

They stay under the streetlight for a while, until Suho starts trying to direct them while they kiss and Sieun almost falls flat on his face.

He is caught with ease but Suho frowns. As if it is such an inconvenience to cease their kissing until they arrive at the share house.

His motorcycle is not far from where they stopped, and Sieun gets on without a word, arms curling around Suho's front.

The drive back is silent without Suho speaking. Each time they get to a red light, he leans back into Sieun, who hooks his chin over his shoulder. Callouses brushing over the sleeves of his jacket, but Sieun swears he can feel them on the skin beneath.

It does not take long for them to slow down along a familiar street. Sieun dismounts Suho's bike with a frown.

The share house is pitched into darkness, and Baku's truck is absent from the driveway.

Suho pulls the helmet off of Sieun's head, stroking down his hair so it is less mussed.

"Where are they?" Sieun asks, turning to him.

He had spent the drive preparing himself for the walk of shame, or to sneak in through the back.

Neither seem to be necessary anymore.

"I told them about a party their friend is hosting," Suho explains. "Seems like the movie wasn't entertaining enough to stop them from immediately getting ready."

Sieun has no words to say to that.

"We have the house to ourselves, baby."

"Things always work out in your favour," Sieun says. It is a matter-of-fact observation.

With that he starts towards the front door.

"Our favour," corrects Suho, chasing after him.

Shaking his head, Sieun waits for Suho to unlock the door before slipping into the vacuum of light that awaits him inside.

He taps the side for the light switch as Suho closes and locks the door.

He cannot find it before he is swept off his feet.

Exclaiming, he blindly grasps at the solid body he is pressed against, seeking some stability.

Not that Suho would let him fall.

"We don't need to worry about the lights being on."

Sieun mumbles incoherently, resting his head against Suho's now that he has located it by touch.

Suho manages to navigate through the front room to the stairs and up them as well.

His room is the first on the landing, a straight shot from the top step. He shoulders inside, Sieun's shoes tapping the wood as he does.

The door is kicked shut behind them, and a second later, Sieun is sinking into Suho's mattress, arms still wrapped around his neck.

Suho switches on the lamp on his bedside table, prompting Sieun to drop his arms, letting Suho move to unlace his shoes and slide them off. After Sieun's are dealt with, he loosens his own with a kick against the heel and boots them across the room.

Sieun watches in silence.

Until Suho is turning to him with an indulged smile and a hand splaying over his stomach. The heat radiates through Sieun's shirt.

"You're feeling better, right?"

Sieun opens his mouth and closes it twice before he admits, "I wasn't sick."

A muscle in Suho's jaw ticks. "Of course."

He leans forward. When he is a hairbreadth from Sieun's lips, Sieun speaks.

"Earlier this week I saw you at a cafe."

Suho pauses where their noses brush. "Mm? Why didn't you come say hi?"

"If you haven't been with anyone since we first met, who were you with then?"

Suho's expression melts into confusion before he repeats back, "Who was I with?"

Sieun nods.

It is a simple question, yet Suho seems stumped to answer it.

"He was wearing glasses," Sieun offers.

Recognition dawns on Suho's face. "Oh, you mean Beomseokie? He's a friend from high school."

"You seemed close," Sieun says.

"Yeah well, he's one of my best friends."

Suho's eyes lower and he juts his chin forward a little, like he cannot wait until they have finished speaking to kiss—half the reason that Sieun learned how to kiss while speaking before he ever learned how to kiss properly. In the past their conversations would be breathed between coupled lips, often with their eyes open and both smiling.

Suho may not have the patience to wait, but Sieun does.

"Very close," he says.

"He's been dating my other friend since our final year of high school," adds Suho. "In fact, I take fifty percent of the responsibility for them finally getting together."

A pause. Suho licks his lips.

"What were you thinking?"

Sieun makes a dismissive noise. Embarrassed at having assumed so wrong.

"Hmm?" prompts Suho, the corner of his lip tugging up as his hand grazes lower than Sieun's stomach.

"I didn't know," Sieun says, a little breathless. A tension lining his words with every brush of Suho's hand.

"Is that why you went today? Because you saw that?"

A small sound escapes Sieun as Suho palms him through his jeans.

"N- No…"

"I can tell you're lying," Suho murmurs, tilting his head. "You could've just asked me, baby."

Sieun lets out a shaky breath and Suho's smirk grows.

"I didn't want to see you," Sieun somehow manages to get out. "I don't want to. It's not that easy for me."

Suho starts kissing the side of his face down to his jaw. "But it is that easy, isn't it? Coming here with me."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sieun refuses to answer.

Because Suho is right. It is that easy to give in.

"See?" Suho says like the silence is an answer. Which it is. "You used to love coming over after your lectures. Why can't we go back to that? Maybe I'd be less tired if I got to see you more often."

"I thought that I drive you crazy," Sieun mumbles.

"You do. In the best way." Suho presses their lips together, a slow, chaste kiss. Neither of them close their eyes. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Sieun-ah."

Sieun's face blisters with how flushed he gets.

Suho's next kiss is just as slow and deliberate. And the next.

He keeps with those chaste kisses until Sieun releases a breathless whine and urges him closer, lifting his hips to press into Suho's hand.

Suho grins against his mouth before finally coupling their lips together and unbuttoning Sieun's cargos.

The kiss is broken for a second solely so that he can get onto the bed and get rid of the fabric between him and Sieun's body.

Sieun is already reaching for him within the second they are apart, and Suho is quick to oblige his request, dropping down so that Sieun can wrap arms around him.

After unzipping his jacket, he returns to kissing Sieun, hand caressing his bare thighs, flush against his ass, but nothing more than that. Indulging for a while.

Until he whispers, "You gotta let go of me if you want me to make you feel good, baby."

Reluctantly, the arms slip from around his neck and give him the freedom to move how he pleases.

Within seconds, Suho lowers his head down, folding Sieun's top up so he can kiss the soft skin of his stomach. His tongue runs over Sieun's navel, making him squirm against the mattress.

Sieun inclines his head so their eye contact does not break even for a moment as Suho kisses lower and lower towards his boxers.

When he reaches the waistband, he rolls it down, licking the skin that was hidden beneath the fabric.

Still staring at Sieun.

As if both of them are searing this moment into their memory. Sieun cannot imagine that Suho's reasons for wanting to remember this are the same as his own. Maybe a small part of it. The same part that is always the most willing to please Suho.

Before Sieun's mind can wander much, lips brush the head of his cock, eliciting a gasp from him. His eyes snap wide.

The first syllable of Suho's name is forming on his tongue when Suho takes the head of his cock into his mouth. He laves at the tip before bobbing down. Sieun bucks up with a whine, hand tangling in Suho's hair.

A smirk adorns Suho's face. His hands pin Sieun's hips against the mattress, not permitting him the liberty to move.

Sieun shakes his head, eyes widening even more.

But despite his sweet promise, Suho is not nice. He has always been a giver.

When he says that nobody will make Sieun feel as he can, Sieun truly believes him. Nobody would so purposefully handle him like Suho does—with all the care in the world while he takes him apart. As if he knows Sieun's body so well that he can find all the seals that keep him together. And instead of shattering him, Suho undoes him. Which is so much harder to recover from.

His hands slip beneath skin and his words spill through Sieun's body and take up residence there long after their skin has stopped touching. He leaves behind third-degree burns in his wake, but only for Sieun to feel. Nobody else can see how Sieun is at the mercy of a constant fire because of Suho.

Suho, who has learnt him so intimately that Sieun has no clue how anyone else could achieve it, even himself.

Only Suho can.

A giver who drowns Sieun in everything he can offer.

Suho's eyes glint before he hollows out his cheeks and lifts off Sieun's cock with a suck. The sound soaks into the pockets of silence in the room, followed by Sieun's moan as his head jerks back.

He resists against the hands on his hips but is unsuccessful.

Hot breath hits his shaft as Suho chuckles, earning another whine from Sieun and his grasp in Suho's hair tightening.

"Sieun-ah, look at me."

With a shaky inhale, Sieun tips his head forward so that he can see Suho again.

Suho is just shy of his cock, a grin on his face as their eyes meet. Smug.

Especially when his tongue slips past his bottom teeth and meets the base of Sieun's cock, slowly running up to the head. Mouth still shaped in a smirk and eyes never once leaving Sieun's.

Sieun lets out a whimper.

The sight destabilises him. And he knows he is only bound to become more lost.

A kiss is administered to his tip before Suho takes him whole in his mouth, sucking his cock as he presses Sieun further into the mattress.

Sieun kicks his legs out with a cry, only to have Suho's laugh around his cock at his terrible attempt at wrestling free.

Suho has always been far stronger than him. There is no chance for Sieun to escape Suho's warm mouth and the undertows of pleasure that drag him way out of his depth with each dip of Suho's head.

Their eyes stay locked on each other, or at least as much as Sieun can humanly manage in the rare moments that he is not thrashing from the stimulation. With his midriff anchored to the bed, his legs and upper body work hard to twist away to no avail.

He cannot stop moaning. The quiet state of the house that they came back to is disturbed by his incessant and vulgar sounds, voice pitched low and desperate.

Even if the party tonight was held at the share house instead of elsewhere, Sieun is not sure that the thudding bass would be able to drown him out.

The thought sends a shiver down his spine—a taste of the thrill he used to experience every time that Suho would have him wanton on the bed, both of them moaning with little reservation, uncaring for the world that resided just below them.

It has been a while since Suho last gave him a blowjob, which is largely Sieun's fault. Not only because of his continued avoidance, but also because of the last time, when he came so quickly. Ever since, he refused to let Suho go down on him. Even though Suho kept promising that he found it incredibly attractive, Sieun was much too embarrassed.

But whatever control he had in the past that allowed him to make those demands has been relinquished into Suho's hands.

And Suho knows it.

His lips are still curled up into a smirk as he watches Sieun writhe, even when Sieun tugs his hair so hard it must hurt deep in his scalp.

His tongue is too good at enveloping Sieun whole, his mouth too perfect of a vice, and his face too stimulating for Sieun to deal with.

Tears break from his lash line as he throws his head back into the pillow, moaning a lewd rendition of Suho's name.

Suho chuckles with Sieun's cock still resting on his tongue. It makes the whites of Sieun's eyes show, toes curling against the mattress.

The pleasure is so intense that his whole body shakes with it. He forgets everything that occurred that night, or in the months before. His memory extends as far as the times that Suho has had him on this bed, giving him everything.

Anticipation inundates him.

Suho groans his name and is rewarded with Sieun's cock twitching, pressed all the way to the back of his throat.

Tongue swirling around the head as he pulls off, Suho stares at Sieun's blissed-out expression, tears and drool slipping down the left side of his face onto the pillow.

A beautiful mess. Suho tells him as much. It leaves his mouth as nothing less than praise. Adulation.

"You look so perfect when you let yourself come apart, Sieun-ah," he breathes, as though awestruck.

It is a sight he has been robbed of for too long.

A whimper escapes Sieun, his fingers loosening in Suho's hair. Without Suho's mouth overstimulating him, he has no reason to hold on so tight.

Suho cups the back of the hand and brings it down to his face, kissing Sieun's palm.

Sieun blinks away the haze over his vision until he can see Suho, his tousled hair from Sieun's hands making him look like he is on the precipice of unravelling.

The embodiment of Sieun's ruining; his weakness personified.

"Are you… Hah… done?" Sieun croaks out.

Suho tilts his head, his cheek gently held by Sieun's hand, which is being held by his.

"No."

Biting his bottom lip, Sieun tries to stifle the weeping noise that comes from him. Even if he is successful, the sudden influx of tears that spill from his eyes must clue Suho in to how he takes that news.

Suho's hand finally releases one side of his body just so that he could run a thumb over Sieun's trembling lips and lick the tears that accumulated there from the pad of his thumb. He kisses Sieun's palm again before stroking his cheek.

"I don't know when I'll get this again," he murmurs, pressing lips to each individual fingerprint of Sieun's hand. "So I'm making the most of it. Until you come back again."

Sieun wants to yell at him or cry. Both, maybe.

Deep down, he wants to never let Suho go long without him. Without each other.

Suho must know how Sieun struggles with the distance between them, so he does not say anything of it.

Instead, he bends his index finger at the knuckle and skims it over Suho's lips, testing the skin to touch.

Suho attempts to kiss it more but it moves too fast and he has no choice but to let Sieun push his mouth around, moulding it into any shape but a smile.

Only once he is done does Sieun bring it to a stop at Suho's bottom lip.

Suho bites it gently.

His thumb skims over Sieun's bottom lip in the same manner and Sieun offers his own nibble.

Suho's teeth leave his finger lonely, and after a pause, his head starts gravitating lower again.

A small sound escapes Sieun as Suho's slow descent is partnered with his mouth opening, tongue settling over his teeth. Their eyes are latched onto each other and it only worsens the mix of anticipation and distress that claws at Sieun.

"Suho-yah—"

Without waiting for Sieun to say more than his name, Suho swallows his whole length in one move. The sudden enveloping warm makes Sieun buck up with a cry. Suho grins as his hand slides back down to Sieun's hips, grazing over his nipple through the fabric of the shirt.

Gasping, Sieun grabs a fistful of Suho's hair again.

Suho wastes no time with teasing. He has Sieun writhing within seconds, mewling his name and begging for another break.

The pleasure chokes him, suffocating as if a pillow is being held over his face. His eyes roll back every time that Suho hollows out his cheeks as he retreats. With each whirl of his tongue, Sieun succumbs more to the heady beat taking control of his body.

"Suhooo… Nnngh! Suho-yah—"

The fogginess of pleasure almost blinds him to his mounting orgasm. It is an abrupt charge in his stomach that makes him aware of how his abdomen has been drawn so taut it feels like it could snap at a moment's notice.

Suddenly all he can feel is how Suho's mouth has driven him to a mind-shattering orgasm.

After his cry of warning, the crescendo hits.

His body jerks, unable to arch off the bed with Suho pinning him down. Instead, one of his arms stretch above his head, clawing at the headboard as the one in Suho's hair digs nails into skin.

He releases into Suho's mouth, who works him through it, lips sealed to avoid any of Sieun's cum spilling out.

Sieun's body twitches with every slight stimulation. Especially when Suho pulls off with a slick pop that breaks through the rhythm of Sieun's panting. The vulgar sound is enough to draw a whine from between his lips.

He cannot formulate any words, still trying to regain control of his breathing.

Suho does not speak either.

His hands slide over the back of Sieun's thighs and fit snug at the bend of his knee. He pushes them up and towards the headboard until Sieun's ass is lifting off the bed.

Brows furrowing, Sieun watches with confusion.

Suho's eyes lift to meet his.

A second later, his lips part and a white viscous liquid drips from his mouth in ropes. Sieun gasps when it lands against his ass. Suho grins as the cum continues to fall from his tongue.

Once it ceases, he swallows what remains in his mouth and brings a finger to run over Sieun's hole.

Sieun bites the inside of his cheek, vision already growing blurry again.

His cum is pushed inside of him, helping to ease the fit of Suho's finger.

Suho closes the distance between them. Sieun's arm twitches where it is sprawled near the headboard, wanting to trap Suho this close by looping around him.

Instead, he stares through his lashes. Hopes it is enough to make Suho stay near.

Has always cradled that hope, deep down.

Suho lowers to his ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin as he speaks. "How does it feel to have your cum inside you?"

His finger curls. Sieun's teeth bite his cheek until it hurts.

"Stop…" His voice is higher than usual and a little choked up.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, too. Mix 'em together in there. You can avoid me all you want and pretend you don't care but you can't pretend you haven't had our cum inside you, baby."

The thought takes Sieun by surprise and his eyes widen, mouth shaping words but no sounds accompany it.

Suho nips at his ear before withdrawing so that he can study his expression instead.

Whatever he finds must satiate him greatly because he grins, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He already knows every place to poke and prod to melt Sieun into a pliant mould for him. His second finger presses in and he scissors them, mimicking how Sieun's mouth opens with a gasp.

The sight makes Sieun whimper and Suho grins.

"Sieun-ah, baby," he says, voice low.

When Suho does not continue, waiting for an acknowledgement, Sieun tentatively nods.

Apprehension balloons in his stomach alongside the feverish pleasure that has begun mounting there once again.

"I'm gonna be honest," Suho says, "I'm still upset about earlier. So, here's how this is gonna go."

He curls his fingers.

"I'm gonna stretch you open like you deserve. Gonna take my time with it. And when your pretty mouth is ready to apologise, I'll give you my cock, hm?" Suho's lips form a closed-mouth smile. "Until then, you'll have to be satisfied with my fingers. How does that sound, baby?"

It sounds like an ultimatum that Sieun cannot survive with his sanity intact.

He shakes his head, wide-eyed.

Suho hums as if in thought, stroking Sieun's cheek with his thumb. "It'd be unfair of you to refuse, don't you think? After how you've been acting? I told you I'd be nice, Sieun-ah. I could be so, so much worse right now." When he says that, his wrist makes contact with skin as he thrusts his fingers deep into Sieun. "But I'm giving you a chance to make it up to me, 'cause I don't wanna be mean."

Sieun whines, shaking his head again. He wraps his arms around Suho's neck, tugging him down. A smile grows on Suho's face and he lets the gap between them disappear until they are inches apart.

Sieun stares at him through tear-clumped lashes, pleading with everything but his words.

Suho considers his expression with nothing but that smile of his.

"Please," Sieun finally gets out. "Please, Suho-yah…"

"Mm, just say you're sorry, baby," whispers Suho. "Admit that you were wrong, and I'll do whatever you want. Don't you wanna make me feel better, too?"

Sieun's tears come renewed and he bites his bottom lip, casting his eyes down.

The fingers inside him slow. They stroke over his walls with a lover's caress, leaving Sieun fluttering in their wake.

He can feel Suho's searing gaze against his skin.

If anything, the leisurely way that Suho fingers him now is more sensual than being rough. Maybe they have a time limit until their friends come back from the party, but Suho acts as if they have all the time in the world.

And he does, waiting for Sieun to apologise.

Hiding his face in the crook of Suho's neck, Sieun is subjected to his gentle touch and his saccharine voice that has dropped to a murmur near his ear. Suho kisses whatever skin that he has access to and Sieun hugs him closer, gasping while his tears smear over Suho's neck.

When Suho adds a third finger, Sieun lets out a moan so loud that he panics and claps a hand over his mouth at the last second.

But there is no one to hear other than Suho, who is smirking with his brows raised.

"How's that, baby?" he asks, resting his forehead against Sieun's.

Sieun stares at him through his lashes, hand still covering his mouth.

The dizzying feeling worsens when Suho's fingers start to move faster inside him. His eyes roll back and Suho groans at the sight. He tugs at Sieun's wrist until the hand drops away from his face and Suho can see everything once again.

He drinks in the sight for a few long seconds, Sieun's lips parting with his tongue, already anticipating a kiss. Asking for one.

Suho grins before bringing their mouths together.

Moaning in the kiss, Sieun starts moving back against Suho's fingers, grinding down for more stimulation. Desperate for something more. Suho chuckles, the hot air hitting Sieun's face as they come apart just to angle their heads so they can deepen the kiss into something filthier.

Just when Suho's pace is bordering on rough, he adds a fourth finger. As he arches off the bed, Sieun releases a noise somewhere between Suho's name and a plea. One in the same.

Suho hums as if he is listening.

Sieun thinks he may be forgiven.

Until Suho's thumb brushes against his perineum.

Sieun's vision explodes with white dots. "Hnngh! O- oh, fuck— S- Suho—"

"Hm?" prompts Suho with an all-knowing grin. "Ready to apologise, baby?"

Shaking his head with a sob, Sieun wraps his arms around Suho, pattering kisses across his face in a frantic act of self-soothing. Suho lets him with a throaty laugh, wrist hitting skin and thumb teasing the same spot again.

It is so much stimulation from just a simple swipe of Suho's thumb, and Sieun's expression contorts, panting as he tries to tamp down the heavy fist of pleasure that seems to punch the breath from him.

Suho is fucking him with his fingers now, rough and targeted. Every time he finds that sweet spot followed by his thumb poking Sieun's perineum, he is rewarded with the most vulgar whine and Sieun greedily grinding down, chasing the ecstasy until he is drowning in it.

He can barely keep his eyelids open, staring at Suho with bedroom eyes.

The expression that Suho wears is nothing short of intoxicated, a hint of amusement in the curl of his lips.

He runs his tongue over Sieun's cheeks, picking up the tears that have painted his face a rosy hue.

"Wanna be inside you so bad, baby," he groans. "Don't you want it, too?"

"Yes, yes," Sieun begs.

When Suho does not rub his thumb over the spot, Sieun whines, so desperate to cum again. He can feel it contorting in his stomach, and knows Suho can give it to him so good.

With Suho's fingers reaching deep inside him, so rough, and the occasional soft brush of his thumb, Sieun feels as if he is reaching a state of borderline delirium.

Suho must be able to see his mindlessness in his gaze, because he bites his lip, and somehow, gets rougher.

Sieun's spine curves off the bed as he lets out a depraved moan.

Maybe he is loud enough for the neighbours to hear. Maybe he does not care. Maybe—just maybe—he wants everyone to know that Suho can make him come undone with just his fingers.

Sieun has not even tasted his cock yet, but he is already feverish for it.

"Please," he cries. "Please, Suho-yah. Mmn… I'll be good…"

"Yeah?" Suho breathes, inclining his head.

Sieun copies the gesture and Suho smirks. Once again, Sieun makes an attempt to mimic it. Wants to please Suho. Would do anything.

The next second, Suho's fingers are slowing down inside him and the promise of release is cruelly ripped from him.

Wide-eyed, he shakes his head, sobbing out Suho's name.

"You know what you gotta do, baby. Hyung just wants to hear that you're sorry."

Sieun is inconsolable.

Why should he apologise for going to a party? For dancing with a friend?

Suho did not have to apologise for being close with his friend, so why does Sieun?

Suho cannot dictate his choices when he will not allow himself to be one of them.

It is so unfair.

Suho does not deserve it.

Out of everyone, Suho deserves an apology from Sieun the least.

"I'm sorry," Sieun sobs, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Suho-yah. I shouldn't have— Hnn…gone to the party… I just wanted your attention. Hah… I should've come to you instead… Mmn… Nobody makes me feel like you do, you're right… I'm sorry— Aah… Please forgive me, Suho-yah… Please…"

Suho's eyes widen. He strokes Sieun's cheek as he listens to the apologies pouring from him. He must know that Sieun has had his arm bent. Yet, what matters is his words, not the 'sorry' itself. In his desperation to apologise, he has offered the truth, bared in his hands. A bleeding heart in his palm.

That is good enough for Suho. More than enough.

Sieun knows that, too.

"That's right," Suho breathes. "Only me. Nobody else but me."

Nodding, Sieun cranes his neck to kiss Suho.

Suho groans between their lips, his fingers slipping out from inside Sieun.

Sieun's skin starts buzzing and he keeps nodding, encouraging Suho to continue. Instead of how he would usually chuckle at having exposed Sieun's eagerness, Suho ends up with a strained expression, their foreheads pressed together as he fumbles with his jeans.

Sieun stares up at him. He hopes Suho does not meet his eye. He can feel how much he is revealing in his gaze, but in that moment, he cannot hide it. Suho has undone all the seals around his heart and made him a single, pliable mess.

Suho's eyes flick up. His hands pause at the waistband of his boxers.

"Sieun-ah," he murmurs before planting a kiss against his cheek.

A vulnerable sound comes from Sieun's throat, so Suho lays his lips there as well, right over his Adam's apple.

He kisses up to his chin before taking his lips, tongue sweeping inside.

They do not break apart as Suho gets rid of his boxers. When he pulls his shirt overhead, he busies himself with getting Sieun's off, too.

Instead of taking advantage of all the newly revealed skin, Suho does not let Sieun's arms fall down before he tugs his shirt over Sieun's head.

The fabric feels electric against skin. Each brush of it steals the breath from Sieun. The smell of Suho clings to his nose, drowning him in it—the bed, the clothes, the body over his.

As always, Suho has managed to completely consume him from head to toe.

Sieun lifts his head from the pillow to glance between their bodies.

Suho's hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, flushed red and leaking precum. A lot of it.

Sieun opens his mouth to say something, but Suho beats him to it. "See what you do to me, Sieun-ah?"

Swallowing, Sieun lifts a shaky leg from the mattress and brings it to bend around Suho, urging him closer.

Suho's hand strokes over his thigh, righting the leg so that it is more comfortable for Sieun.

"Only you," Suho whispers, fingers digging into Sieun's flesh.

Thankfully, he is too busy lining himself up to witness how those two words make Sieun's eyes roll to the back of his head and get stuck there for a while, lashes fluttering. Just melts.

They echo in his mind on replay until the daze is shattered from Suho's cock pushing inside.

Much like Sieun does for Suho, his insides resist the stretch for all of a second before they relax completely. Suho's cock slides in with no problem.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're so stubborn," Suho says in a quiet, appreciative voice. "Now you're taking me so well."

When there comes no response for a few seconds, he glances up and finds Sieun's face completely blissed-out, eyes glazed over and unseeing. Much like his ears.

He knows that Suho has spoken—can hear the groan that Suho releases after seeing his face—but cannot understand the words that have been said.

They may have had sex after the party a few weeks ago, but it feels much longer than that. With how much Sieun has been craving Suho's company, to suddenly be engulfed in it is far too much for him. And this is different than before.

Suho is only like this for him.

That alone is enough to overwhelm Sieun.

Suho's cock twitches inside him, and Sieun is vaguely aware that Suho is speaking. He hears none of it until lips brush the shell of his ear and Suho's honeyed voice trickles directly through his nerves to his brain so that he can be heard.

"Baby, do you need a little longer to adjust?"

Sieun somehow manages to find his voice. "No…"

"You sure?"

A kiss is planted to his ear, followed by Suho's tongue exploring the sensitive dips and curves. Sieun's eyes flutter closed as he whimpers.

"Mn, Suho-yah… Please…"

His other leg is hiked up.

"Okay. Tell me if it gets too much," Suho says. After a pause, he adds, "Though you like that, so you probably won't."

Sieun has regained enough clarity that the comment is able to bring a pout onto his face. Suho kisses it away with a low laugh.

"Show me how good I make you feel, Sieun-ah," he whispers. "I wanna see everything."

Sieun does not respond.

Or more, he does not get the opportunity to, because Suho is pulling out of him and slamming in to the hilt without any warning.

Sieun's mouth opens wide with a soundless moan, arching off the back as one of his legs kick out.

Suho drops his head to Sieun's shoulder, teeth breaking skin as he stifles his groan.

"All that stretching and you're still hugging my cock," he says with an amused huff. "God, you feel crazy. Missed this so bad…"

With his next thrust, he angles Sieun the slightest bit so that he hits his sweet spot. Sieun claws at his back as something electric and volatile erupts inside him, his head feel swimming in molten liquid.

His insides clench around Suho, drawing a moan from the man over him. A second later, Suho starts trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck, almost frantic.

Sieun is completely disorientated. His jaw slack, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and down his cheek.

Only a few weeks have allowed him to forget how true it is when Suho says he is the only one who can make him feel like this.

Sieun has never had sex with anyone else, but he cannot imagine fitting so perfectly with someone other than Suho. Their bodies lock and cannot come apart. The first time that they had sex, he was so overwhelmed by that very sensation that he had been unable to sleep, despite how much Suho had tired him out by fucking him into the mattress until he was completely limbless. Being wrapped in Suho's arms, whether they are connected below or sleeping in the after, gives him this odd feeling that he has found a part of himself that has been missing for his entire life.

Suho makes him feel complete.

Or rather, Suho completes him.

And it has taken everything in Sieun to convince himself otherwise, just for Suho to look at him from the bottom of the stairs, from across the dining table, by his side on the couch, or waiting outside a store, to make Sieun remember, very acutely, how he cannot really ever escape Suho's gravity now that he has found himself caught within its pull.

One look and he yields.

But Suho has no plans on stopping just there.

He is making sure that Sieun cannot forget the way that their bodies move in sync, like working parts of one machine. Chests rising and falling together as they breathe.

Now that Sieun knows the feeling of being whole, how can he turn away from it?

Suho has been right the whole time. He was always going to give in eventually.

Suho is just here to remind him of that. In the way that he has always done best.

A kiss brushes against Sieun's temple, drawing him from his train of thought.

Suho has not moved again, spending his time studying Sieun's face after noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

Once he seems more lucid, blinking up at Suho, Suho smiles, running his thumb over Sieun's bottom lip.

The end of Sieun's tongue taps against it, nerve endings brushing over the lines of Suho's fingerprint. Like he wants to claim it as his own—wants to taste the whorls that are distinctly Suho so that the memory of him will forever exist somewhere within him.

That is when Suho's cock draws out and thrusts forward again. He moves slow, just enough to earn him a gasp before Sieun resumes kissing and licking his thumb. Suho watches him, gaze burning skin.

It is only when Sieun bats his lashes that Suho removes his hand and replaces it with his lips. They gasp into each other's mouths, Suho grabbing Sieun's waist and letting his pace catch up with the feverish kiss they are sharing.

Saliva escapes their coupled lips, alongside moans that are not given the chance to be breathed into the air, too consumed with their mouths together. Sieun's every noise is handed to Suho on a silver platter as their tongues meld into one.

Sieun immerses in the euphoria, at once both frenzied and soothing.

Their lips create noises more lewd than the slap of skin as Suho pounds into him, burying as deep as he can every thrust. Sieun holds Suho's head in his hands to keep him close, but even without that, Suho chases his lips the second he tries to catch his breath.

With every kiss, Sieun's insides flutter around Suho, earning a twitch or a throb that makes him mewl.

Sieun is so lost in the feeling that he barely notices that he is being moved, the fabric peeling off his back only coming to his attention when Suho's hand slides under it.

Suho thrusts up into him and all of Sieun's weight bears down on his cock. He moans, dropping his head to Sieun's chest. Sieun blinks down at him, mind trying to catch up in the change in position. Suho is below him now, and he is seated in Suho's lap.

Hips snapping up, Suho fucks into him with enough force to bounce Sieun. His reward is the subtle grind that Sieun manages when Suho is sunk deep in his heat. Suho's half-lidded eyes meet his for only a second before Sieun is arching back, head rolling as he moans.

His arms around Suho's neck anchor him there, giving Suho a perfect view as he acts with abandon.

Suho does not say anything for a moment, simply marvelling.

It is only when Sieun's head drops back in his direction that Suho speaks.

"You're not stupid or spineless, Sieun-ah. When you let yourself feel, I think you're so breathtaking." He strokes Sieun's cheek. "I wanna see it all the time, baby. I want it all to myself."

Sieun leans into the cool of Suho's palm, unaware of how flushed and sweaty he is until that touch. The words barely register in his mind, tucked away for him to think about at a later time. Perhaps when Suho is not so present, even in the fabric that clings to his skin.

He is lowered to the bed again.

Suho follows down to kiss him, not as feverish before. Deliberate and caring.

He continues to thrust into him until his finger digs into the final seal and Sieun comes undone with a blissful moan, head rolling back in the pillow as cum spills from his cock.

The sight brings Suho to his own release, gritting his teeth as his moans gutturally in his throat, rocking his hips into Sieun, cum spreading deep inside, mixing with what remains of Sieun's as he promised.

Sieun is floating atop a warm ocean, fuzzy against his skin. The damp strands of his hair are pushed off his forehead, and lips press against the feverish skin before they are replaced by a forehead.

Suho waits until Sieun blinks away the haze and meets his eye. Hand lifting, Sieun cups the side of Suho's face. Suho kisses the palm.

It is then that Sieun realises Suho is still nestled deep inside of him, even though he is now soft.

He bites his bottom lip, looking at Suho through his lashes. Suho does not break eye contact as his kisses to Sieun's palm are replaced by his tongue, licking over the lines in his skin.

The air is thick between them. In fact, the whole room has been permeated by the distinct air of sex, hot and heavy, almost like a muggy summer's day. With how intense it feels, it may as well have extended beyond the bedroom.

Sieun knows why Suho has not pulled out.

Even as exhaustion weighs down on him, he says nothing.

Though, he interrupts Suho's attack on his hand by sliding it under his chin and coaxing him forward. Lips lifting at the corner, Suho obliges and kisses him. A chaste peck that devolves into something more sensual.

Sieun has missed these kisses more than anything; the lethargic post-orgasm lock of their lips that make him feel like Suho's lover being doted on.

Suho's affection has always extended beyond the bed, but it still makes Sieun become like putty in his hands every time.

Trapped in the unholy warmth that he has been craving, Suho's cock slowly grows hard again. He grinds forward slightly as it does, drawing little whimpers from Sieun.

When he is hard once more, he breaks their kiss to whisper, "Don't forget what I said, Sieun-ah."

There is so much Suho has said with his sweet-talking that Sieun is impossibly vulnerable to, and not for one moment has Sieun forgotten any of it. Both the good and the bad.

He cannot forget anything about Suho, even the parts he wants to.

So, he nods.

"I won't, Suho-yah."

Suho smiles softly and slowly pulls out of him.

Sieun comes undone at Suho's behest yet again.