Work Text:
Ringing.
A shrill ring is sounding in Hyunjae’s ears, sharp and tinny. The awful noise overtakes any other sound in the vicinity, including whatever his best friend had been trying to tell him. The man sitting on the other side of the table looks at him expectantly, waiting for a response to words Hyunjae didn’t have any hope of hearing. He needs to ask Younghoon what he missed but his throat seems to have dried up all on its own.
“I’m guessing that’s a no.” Younghoon laughs. Hyunjae would like it if he could laugh along too.
“What?” He flounders. It’s a poor attempt at asking to be let in on the joke but his best friend is forgiving enough.
“I was <i>asking</i> if you heard Lee Sangyeon got asked out.” He rolls his eyes as he huffs, more used to Hyunjae tuning him out than he would like to admit. “Like, publicly. In front of everyone.”
Okay, sure. That makes sense. Lee Sangyeon got asked out on a date. Insufferable, annoying, stupid Sangyeon has someone interested in him. So interested in fact that they’re out here performing grand gestures in the middle of the quad. That’s fine. Some people have awful taste. Like Sangyeon, for example, who keeps filling the fridge in their dorm with lime flavored Pepsi.
Cool, okay, this is good. He needs to follow his usual routine here. He should voice his disgust or even pity for someone dumb enough to ask Sangyeon of all people out. Then he can mime throwing up for good measure. Maybe he can ask Younghoon to tell him how stupid the older man’s face looked when he realized his admirer got him confused for someone handsome with a half decent personality. Did his ears turn bright red too? Or is that reserved for when Hyunjae-
“Who?” His voice ekes out instead.
His dear friend Younghoon laughs and starts to explain he’s referring to Hyunjae’s roommate Sangyeon. Admittedly, the joke is a much better route to take than the one his brain is leading him down. Let’s go with that. His roommate isn’t even worth the time it takes to commit his name to memory, let alone for Hyunjae to gossip about him. Barring all of the times he has done exactly that.
“Who…” Hyunjae swallows the lump in his throat and wonders if he’s passing the point of no return to play this off as a joke. Not that it matters. “Who asked him out?”
The amusement dancing across Younghoon’s face is the last thing he wants to see right now. Well, second to last. Shock would be a lot better. Maybe amazement, seeing as Hyunjae has never taken on a charity case as hopeless as the social life of his vile roommate before. The smile on the other man’s face makes his skin crawl. “Why does that matter, Hyunjae?”
“Because- It matters because I’m worried about this person’s mental state! I mean, Sangyeon? Really?! Did they confess to every other guy on campus already?” The thick eyebrows shooting higher on Younghoon’s forehead is a sure sign Hyunjae has more convincing to do. This mystery paramour is lucky he has the heart of a saint to be so concerned for them. “I mean, he’s probably never gotten asked out before in his life! Let alone <i>courted</i>! Did he say yes? This is probably his only chance so he must have-“
His friend sighs, not for the first time in this conversation but certainly the most sufferingly. “You know what? Maybe you should ask him yourself.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“That’s great, I’m going to class. Are you coming or do you plan on sulking out here all day?”
“I have a life to save, Younghoon.”
Hyunjae loses more and more of his bravado with each step he takes in the direction of his shared living space. His mind is racing and he isn’t sure if he has the capacity to inspect any of those thoughts closer.
For starters, he’s realizing he may not be equipped with the necessary knowledge to save a life. Or who he would even be talking down from the hypothetical Sangyeon shaped ledge. Maybe he’s too late. There’s a nonzero chance Hyunjae will show up to his own front door and be greeted with an unwelcoming sock over the door handle. He feels sick just thinking about it.
This charity case may be above his pay grade. Who cares if someone is dumb enough to date Lee Sangyeon? That’s their problem. Hyunjae has exams and homework and an actual social life to attend to. He’s just worried it’s going to be harder to pretend to do his homework and talk about maybe one day studying for exams if his annoying roommate starts bringing some poor brainwashed partner around. That’s really all it is.
Admittedly, he is more than a little relieved to see his door handle is still sock-less, though he isn’t fully comfortable yet. There is still the daunting task of actually going inside and facing a certain smug jackass.
Upon entering their shared dorm, Hyunjae finds Sangyeon in the same place as always. Stupid Sangyeon who stupidly received a stupid love confession no more than 8 hours ago is sitting in his stupid armchair he found on the side of the road sophomore year. Sitting there, unperturbed, watching some stupid sports game. He’s doing the same thing he always does.
He’s not sure if he should be relieved or pissed off at the sight. Pissed off, he reminds himself, definitely pissed off. His roommate hasn’t even noticed his presence yet. Wordlessly, he approaches the other man and wedges himself between Sangyeon and the tv.
Sangyeon cocks his brows, “You know, you make a better door than a window.”
If Hyunjae had the energy to say anything right now he’d be groaning at the line he’s never heard anyone under 60 say. Instead, he’s compelled by whatever force of nature makes Hyunjae so insistent on pushing his limits.
He straddles the older man, sinking into his lap and loosely draping his arms around his neck. Sangyeon’s hands are already firmly on his waist before he even takes a moment to assess the situation, searching Hyunjae’s eyes as he does so.
The easiness of it all makes Hyunjae’s hair stand on end. It’s not an entirely uncommon position for them, though it’s usually preceded by a few hours of bickering and drinking. Yet here he is, in the same situation as always with none of the flimsy excuses as before without a single protest from the man under him.
Hyunjae waits for a breath longer just in case this has been a drunken mistake all along, studying dark eyes as much as they study him in return.
Reflexively, Hyunjae wets his lips. He is already regretting everything he’s done today, a fact unlikely to change at this rate. This close proximity is only the tip of the iceberg—especially when he can see Sangyeon’s eyes track the action in slow motion.
Before he can think better of it, Hyunjae turns his head away just slightly as if there could be anything more interesting than watching the way the kept gaze follows the motion. When he turns back, Sangyeon’s eyes come with him.
Being enthralled by idiots is something of a pastime for Hyunjae at this point. Apparently today is no different. He darts his tongue out once more. Sangyeon mirrors the action, yet makes no further moves.
He is so, <i>so</i> frustrating.
Hyunjae takes a deep breath. He should at least attempt to look like he has reservations about jumping off the deep end. Sangyeon entwines his fingers in the hairs sitting at the back of Hyunjae’s neck.
He jumps.
Kissing Sangyeon isn’t anything new or groundbreaking for Hyunjae. Fortunately or unfortunately, his body doesn’t seem to be aware of that. His neck burns where Sangyeon touches him, his heart is racing as if he’s running a marathon.
He waits for the kiss to deepen, to fall into their usual routine, but Sangyeon doesn’t do anything of the sort. The kiss is gentle, relaxed—almost jarringly so. There are no bites to Hyunjae’s lips, no rude quips muttered against him to rile him up, not a trace of the usual annoying Sangyeon.
It would almost be romantic. If it had been anyone else kissing him, that is.
Sangyeon breaks the kiss but doesn’t distance himself as much as Hyunjae would like. His eyes, his face, everything is too close. Hyunjae hopes the man can’t feel the heat radiating off his skin.
If he does, he doesn’t say anything. Neither of them speak up for that matter. Who knows what Sangyeon is thinking when he glances down at Hyunjae’s lips before leaning back in. Hyunjae certainly isn’t thinking anything, not when he’s returning a kiss he is still completely baffled by.
This second kiss is barely more urgent than the first, much to Hyunjae’s dismay. They have a routine, one that gives them so much more plausible deniability than the way Hyunjae is loosely clinging onto Sangyeon’s t-shirt and getting kissed more tenderly than he should be, dry lips and all.
He pushes back just barely, his face hovering close enough to Sangyeon’s for his eyelashes to tickle the man’s cheek. Hyunjae’s chest is heaving to an embarrassing degree. Barely being able to catch his breath after two little pecks is a bad look for him. He can’t find his voice, though he has a feeling anything he could say now would run the risk of shattering the atmosphere between them. He might as well make it count.
Wordlessly, he untangles himself from Sangyeon’s lap. He tries to ignore the hand still planted on his waist tightening, opting to reach for his stupid roommate’s free hand instead. For once, thankfully, miraculously, Sangyeon complies with no questions asked. He lets Hyunjae pull him along with no protests. Even when they walk past the threshold of Hyunjae’s room and he braces himself for a snide comment about the sudden change in location, Sangyeon doesn’t say a word. He only gives Hyunjae’s clammy hand a squeeze.
It’s only natural for the two of them to end up in bed together, Hyunjae assures himself. Even when Sangyeon’s touches are light and soft, reverently tracing over every part of him. Even when quiet gasps escape Hyunjae’s mouth at the slightest touch.
For all his restraint, Sangyeon must be hitting his limit. When he looks up, Hyunjae can only mourn the change of pace briefly. It was nice while it lasted but he knew what he was getting into, as usual. Sangyeon’s eyes feign concern well even as he gears up to make fun of Hyunjae.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s-” Hyunjae splutters. This is too much. “It tickles.”
Sangyeon chuckles softly. This is way too much.
“Sorry.” He plants a kiss on Hyunjae’s neck. This is way, <i>way</i> too much.
Hyunjae could scream. For the sake of his dignity, he just hides his face behind his hands.
Each touch is too soft. Sangyeon’s always hurried pace is slowed to a crawl while he ghosts his fingers over Hyunjae’s arms, chest, stomach–anywhere the other can reach. Hyunjae’s mind is a mess. It’s as if Sangyeon’s switch flipped but in the wrong direction. These are the kind of touches reserved for those few minutes of aftercare on the nights they normally spend together, the moments too loving to be intended for him.
He revels in those very moments all the same but admitting something like that to himself is enough to make him dizzy. He’s enjoying it, maybe even too much, but he’s getting worried something is wrong. Like, seriously wrong.
Hyunjae reaches to cup Sangyeon’s face in his hands. Eyes meet his own before he can even try to tilt the man’s chin up.
He didn’t think this through at all. Sangyeon is blinking up at him patiently like some overgrown dog and Hyunjae realizes he needs to act fast.
“Do you have a concussion?”
Sangyeon furrows his brows, as if Hyunjae is the one acting weird here. He’s starting to remember why he can’t stand this guy when he registers the heat radiating off of the face in his hands.
The concussed man in front of him blusters before Hyunjae can think anything ridiculous about nonexistent levels of cuteness of grown men. Sangyeon wrenches his head out of Hyunjae’s grasp and mutters a simple “no” against his neck.
If anyone asks, the laughter bubbling out of him is because the sensation of Sangyeon’s mouth on him is even more ticklish than his hands.
His giggling fit is cut off abruptly by a sharp gasp and even sharper teeth digging into his neck. He reflexively shoves Sangyeon by the shoulders. “Are you a dog?”
“Woof.”
The feeling of the flabbergasted expression stretching across Hyunjae’s features is one much more familiar than whatever happened before this. He feels silly for even entertaining it for so long. Of course this is where they would end up, this is Sangyeon after all. This is normal.
Sangyeon collapsing on top of him with a drawn out groan is much less normal.
“Hey,” Hyunjae wheezes out, “You’re heavy!”
Sangyeon shoots back up, caging Hyunjae’s head between his not at all toned and muscular arms, and fixes him with a glare. “Why is that what gets you to calm down? I was <i>trying</i> to be nice.”
The neurons firing at all speeds in Hyunjae’s brain are flipping wildly between finding the idiot in front of him a little cute and extremely annoying. The longer he looks at the pout on Sangyeon’s lips the more annoying it gets.
“Excuse me? When was I ever not calm?” Hyunjae refutes.
Sangyeon looks down, eyebrows raised annoyingly and accusingly and rudely, and back up. Hyunjae guilty releases the white knuckle grip he had on Sangyeon’s shitty university t-shirt while not meeting a certain smug bastard’s eyes.
“I’m calm,” he reiterates. He has to shove down a lot of embarrassment and even more of his pride to choke out his next words, “Nice is- nice is <i>fine</i>.”
“Fine?”
Hyunjae can feel himself blinking way too fast before he can even consider schooling his expression. Is it hot in here? “Nice is… It’s good.”
Thankfully, the topic is dropped in favor of another “nice” kiss.
Though nice, this kiss is much less polite than the first few. Hyunjae is suddenly grateful for the other man’s impatience in the form of biting and licking into his mouth—it’s a welcome distraction. He was getting dangerously close to thoughts of how simple and easy this was. Or even worse, he nearly wondered how much more of him Sangyeon would accept with open arms, even without all of their usual pretenses.
He should check their apartment for a gas leak after all of this is over. If there’s not a strange chemical causing all of these weird thoughts about his roommate, Hyunjae doesn’t want to know what that would mean for his state of mind. He has totally lost it.
Even if he has gone completely insane, he should at least enjoy it while he can, right?
When Hyunjae pushes back against Sangyeon’s mouth more enthusiastically than he ever has before, he makes a mental note to look up the effects of mold poisoning and scrape together an excuse for his behavior afterwards.
By the time Sangyeon is groaning into his mouth and reaching his rough hands under Hyunjae’s shirt, he completely forgets whatever the hell he was supposed to make an excuse for in the first place.
To be completely honest, Hyunjae doesn’t know what image he’s even obsessed with trying to maintain. All he knows is there is one and for one reason or another Lee Sangyeon doesn’t fit into the picture at all. He shouldn’t–he has no reason to–but with each touch, each look, each laugh, it gets harder for Hyunjae to remember why he ever thought that to begin with.
He’s starting to think he doesn’t know anything at all. He doesn’t know how or why he ended up straddling Sangyeon, the last person he wants to be stuck making eye contact with. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, Sangyeon’s pupils never stop dancing around Hyunjae for even a second. They’re stuck with each other every day, inescapably no matter how many times Hyunjae threatens to request a roommate swap.
But for some reason, Sangyeon never stops looking. Even when Hyunjae <i>really</i> wishes he would. Even when Hyunjae’s skin starts to burn, even when he turns away, even when the other’s gaze feels heavier than the sturdy hands going lower and lower and lower.
“Can I?”
The question whispered against his lips is so embarrassing Hyunjae can barely muster up the strength it takes to weakly shove Sangyeon by the shoulder and refute, “When have you ever bothered asking?”
“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks innocently.
Hyunjae knows by now when he’s being baited into reacting to whatever nonsense Sangyeon spouts at him. He steels himself, willing his nervous system to stop reacting to the fingers gently tracing his sides waiting for an answer.
“Do whatever you want,” he mutters.
Sangyeon blinks, looking almost embarrassed. Annoying. “Aren’t you giving me a little too much power for the first time?”
“Stop messing around.” Hyunjae tries to distract him with a kiss. He isn’t confident this idiot won’t consider a reward so he tacks on, “It’s not cute when I’m not tipsy.”
Hyunjae can feel his mistake as a smile spreads against Sangyeon’s lips. He tries to chase them when Sangyeon pulls back. To shut him up, of course.
“You think I’m cute?”
Their teeth knocking together at the force of Hyunjae pulling him back in should be enough of a signal to stop talking this time. Whether the groan coming from the man under him is from pain or pleasure, Hyunjae’s already too sick of him to care.
It worked this time, it seems, as Sangyeon starts fumbling around with a hand reaching out towards the side. Hyunjae can’t contain the chuckle coming out of him. “Wrong room. To your left.”
Sangyeon gives a half-hearted grunt in response but listens to the directions all the same. The flush of his ears could almost be considered cute if Hyunjae weren’t so adverse to using the word on him. He busies himself with the strands of hair sitting at the nape of Sangyeon’s neck, offering no additional help in his search. He’ll figure it out eventually. Meanwhile, Hyunjae needs to figure out how he keeps his hair so much softer than his own even though they both go to excessive lengths to straighten their hair every day.
Cold fingers pull him out of his pointless musings and a gasp comes along with it. Damn Sangyeon, he’s too fast. His vision focuses again on his roommate’s face and to Hyunjae’s dismay, he was already watching. His mouth sets into an all too familiar lopsided smile.
Hyunjae hates how much he’s shaking and clinging onto Sangyeon as he finally puts a single finger in. He feels like he’s been made to wait so long, but now even this little sensation is overwhelming.
Sangyeon runs his free hand through Hyunjae’s probably disgustingly sweaty hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, but Hyunjae definitely minds the gentle smile on his face. “I think I would remember doing something like this with someone as attractive as you.”
Any intelligent and witty quip dies on the tip of his tongue as Sangyeon’s deft fingers continue to work him open. He already regrets this position. He curses his past self for crawling into Sangyeon’s lap so easily without considering the consequences of seeing the concentrated crease of his brow this closely or the way his eyes always drift back up to meet Hyunjae’s.
He does like this newfound gentleness despite how embarrassing it is, don’t get him wrong, but he didn’t realize Sangyeon’s definition of being “nice” included being <i>slow</i>. Even when Hyunjae sacrifices some of his dignity to whine and writhe under his touch, Sangyeon’s pace doesn’t speed up. He continues to steadily open Hyunjae up, his fingers curling and scissoring inside him just enough to make Hyunjae gasp and cry out.
It feels good–it feels <i>really</i> good–Sangyeon knows every inch of Hyunjae by now, but he knows it could feel even better. Better for both-
“Sangyeon,” is all he can manage to get out after a particularly embarrassing whine gets pulled out of him. If they keep going like this, Hyunjae is going to finish just from Sangyeon’s fingers like a loser. Hyunjae is a winner, and a winner takes- This isn’t the right metaphor. Sangyeon is making him stupid. He wants Sangyeon to <i>fuck</i> him stupid. He takes a moment to gather himself before he makes his move.
He looks up through his eyelashes, lips pursed, then any and all pleads die in his throat before he can even open his mouth. His heart stutters in his chest. This position is going to kill him, especially if Sangyeon is going to smile at him so gently every single time they make eye contact. He gives up. He said Sangyeon could do whatever he wants anyways.
“Hyunjae.” The endorphins rushing through him at a simple call of his name is a feeling Hyunjae is going to take to the grave. He can’t bring himself to look Sangyeon in the eyes until he feels a soft caress of his cheek. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
He can’t take it anymore. He hastily claws at Sangyeon’s pants, though he doesn’t make much progress from on top of him. Clearly he isn’t the only one who has been waiting if the hardness Hyunjae has desperately been trying to ignore under him is anything to go off of.
Graciously, Sangyeon spares him the humiliation caused by Hyunjae’s shaking hands. He lines himself hastily, maybe he was in even more of a hurry than Hyunjae, but his pace is more cautious when he finally enters.
His mind is too hazy as he gets carefully, painstakingly stretched open. He can’t tell if it’s the pressure, the pleasure or the atmosphere overwhelming him but whatever it is, Hyunjae can feel it burning in his stomach.
They almost feel like a couple like this, Sangyeon’s hands holding onto his hips and keeping him steady, Hyunjae’s hushed pleas and calls of his- of Sangyeon’s name. Sangyeon gradually starts to pick up the pace though Hyunjae wishes he would knock the wind—and all of these thoughts—out of him like usual.
Heat prickles his skin as he watches Sangyeon’s unwavering focus on him crease into his brow. Hyunjae didn’t drink at all, but he’s starting to wish he at least pretended he did. Maybe then he would be able to affect an air of confidence enough to put in his share of work or voice more than his breathy gasps. Sangyeon doesn’t seem to mind, his breath hitching as he fucks into Hyunjae, his firm hands digging into his waist.
Hyunjae thought he wanted to be fucked stupid (he does) but now that the pleasure is making his mind hazy, his embarrassing babbling is finally spilling out of him. “Hyung, faster,” and ” “Please, Sangyeon, <i>more</i>,” are harmless if not a little embarrassing, but when Sangyeon complies with all of his request, when Hyunjae’s heart is beating out of his chest, when his mind is racing with all these thoughts of asking for too much, he knows he needs to do something to shut himself up.
Before Sangyeon can finish saying “I’ve got you, babe,” Hyunjae pulls him into a kiss. It’s messy and terrible and Hyunjae keeps breaking it with his own whines, but he can’t ask his handsome acquaintance-slash-whatever he is to be his boyfriend like this either. He doesn’t know when Sangyeon’s hand landed on the back of his neck but his tight hold is an even better distraction. That is, until the man pulls away.
“Jaehyun,” the exhale of Hyunjae’s real name is no louder than a whisper, like it’s not even meant for his ears and it’s all it takes to send Hyunjae over the edge. He comes with an embarrassing whimper, burying his face in Sangyeon’s shoulder and clenching around him.
Hyunjae doesn’t think too hard about who usually calls him by his nickname and who tends to use his real one, but he does think about Sangyeon too hard. His roommate has called him Hyunjae–and a myriad of other things–but never Jaehyun. He’s really making it impossible for Hyunjae to think straight and not for all of the usual reasons.
“Just a little more,” Sangyeon says and Hyunjae would be throttling him over the lilt in his voice as he says it if he weren’t overstimulated in every single way. There’s a soothing hand on his back and it doesn’t take long for Sangyeon to follow right behind him.
As soon as he regains enough feeling in his legs to move, Hyunjae flops face first onto his bed and hides in the comfort of his cheap and shitty pillow. His ears are on fire and the last thing he needs is to see that stupid look on Sangyeon’s face as he cleans him up. He dutifully does his best to make sure Hyunjae is comfortable even in his stubbornness but the few minutes of reprieve aren’t enough for his heart to stop feeling like it’s going to claw out of his chest. This is stupid. Sangyeon is stupid. Hyunjae is stupider.
He feels a gentle nudge on his shoulder, looking up to meet Sangyeon’s stupid kind eyes while he holds out a stupid t-shirt for stupid Hyunjae to put on. He snatches it in his embarrassment, avoiding eye contact all the while. He comes to a horrible realization as he puts it on. It’s Sangyeon’s shirt. They’re in Hyunjae’s room and he went across the hall just to make Hyunjae wear one of his shirts instead like some kind of sicko who wants to make his roommate fall in love with his stupid feigned nonchalance.
Sangyeon crawls back into Hyunjae’s bed, completely uninvited, and turns on his side to speak. “Can I see you again sometime?”
“Don’t you-” Hyunjae swallows around the lump in his throat once he finally remembers how he ended up in this position, “Don’t you have a girlfriend now?”
“Is that an offer?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Hyunjae snaps. “Everyone on campus has been talking about your not-so-secret admirer.”
Sangyeon has the gall to look confused, blinking up at Hyunjae from where he’s resting his head on the pillow. “You would do all that with a guy who has a girlfriend?”
The thump of Hyunjae’s pillow making contact with Sangyeon’s stupid face does very little to dim the annoyance surging through his chest, much like usual. “I hate you.”
A warm hand wraps around Hyunjae’s wrist—his wrist, not the pillow still smothering him. Damn him. Sangyeon uncovers his dumb smug face with his stupidly handsome newly tousled hair. He tightens his grip on Hyunjae’s wrist before he can bring the pillow back down to suffocate him once and for all. Damn him.
Sangyeon keeps steady focus on him, eyes searching Hyunjae’s for a few beats too many. Whatever he finds that makes his already warm gaze warmer and his glimmering eyes glimmer further, Hyunjae hates it.
“I said no.” Sangyeon responds, but Hyunjae doesn’t care. Sangyeon continues anyway, “I have someone I’m interested in already.”
“Whoever they are, I feel bad for them.” Hyunjae scoffs.
“Yeah? Do you?” Sangyeon flops his head back down to stare at the ceiling and sighs. “I might have to rethink this then.”
Hyunjae does his best to ignore the blood rushing to his head. And all of the ridiculous thoughts coming along with it. “Rethink what?”
“Nothing,” Sangyeon pauses to give him a sidelong look. Hyunjae can’t stand the way the dim light of his bedside lamp betrays him by softening Sangyeon’s features. The only thing worse is the almost-handsome almost-smile which comes along with it. “I wouldn’t want to make you feel sorry for yourself.”
“You’re not funny.”
The indignant pout on Sangyeon’s face is the last thing he expects to see, even with the man’s endless attempts to get on Hyunjae’s nerves. “I’m not trying to be.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that. This is a lousy joke, even for his painfully unfunny roommate. It’s made even lousier by Hyunjae’s pulse speeding up over the meaningless words against all of his wishes to ignore them. Sangyeon wins this round, he guesses. He’s pissed off, miserable, and his face is getting hot all in one go. This must be Hyunjae’s lucky day.
“You sure have a weird way of showing it.” He winces at the bitterness in his own voice. He suddenly feels vindicated in all of his efforts to sleep as soon as possible after nights with Sangyeon. Hyunjae had no idea his own idea of pillow talk was lashing out at his roommate for not being wildly and deeply in love with him.
Surprisingly, Sangyeon pales at Hyunjae’s cheap shot.
“You really don’t remember,” he grimaces.
“Remember what?” Hyunjae’s heart rate is picking up again but this time not because of any half-hearted fuzzy words or all too convincing stares.
Sangyeon acts out the least convincing yawn Hyunjae has ever seen in his entire life. “Ah, I sure am tired. Goodnight, Hyunjae.”
“It’s 6:00 PM.” Hyunjae clutches the idiot’s bicep before he can finish rolling away from him. In <i>Hyunjae’s</i> bed. He’s stupid. “What don’t I remember?”
Sangyeon gives a quick look over his shoulder, not quickly enough for Hyunjae to ignore even though he’s getting the feeling he should, and in an instant Sangyeon’s entire body relaxes into an incredibly deep and incredibly fake sleep.
It’s so ridiculous he could almost laugh but he has to stay focused. His dignity is on the line here. At least, the tattered remains of his dignity are at stake, leftover from Hyunjae getting a little too excited over the prospect of being the object of his roommate’s affections. Not that he wants-
Some bumbling idiot’s recreation of what snoring would sound like if he were a cartoon character distracts him from his train of thought.
If he wants to be childish, so be it. That’s the name of Hyunjae’s game.
“I thought we weren’t <i>supposed</i> to remember anything.”
The chorus of “honk”s and “mimi”s falter for just a moment before dying out entirely.
“It was before that,” Sangyeon grumbles without turning to face him. Hyunjae doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean. “This.”
The clarification makes even less sense. It’s barely evening—nowhere near the middle of the night Hyunjae uses as cover to overanalyze every word ever spoken to him. The reds and oranges of the setting sun streaming through the windows illuminate the room, though they do little to shine a light on potential meanings of vague, offhand statements. Sangyeon finally turns back around to look him in the eyes and Hyunjae really wishes he hadn’t, especially not with the lopsided smirk on his face. It makes even less sense than the nonsense he’s been spouting all night.
“You were pretty drunk when you said it.”
“So?” Hyunjae doesn’t know what he’s getting defensive about but he’s pretty sure he needs to. “I’ve said a lot of things. While I was drunk.”
Sangyeon must have caught onto the fact Hyunjae has no idea what they’re talking about by now, his annoying smile turning more sheepish by the second. “About your preferences.”
Hyunjae blinks.
“All of them.”
Hyunjae is going to go back in time and kill the first person who invented alcohol. And maybe the second and third ones too. Despite the heat crawling up his neck, he won’t admit his guilt. So what if Hyunjae is into some weird stuff? Sangyeon isn’t any better!
“So let me get this straight,” Hyunjae starts, entirely composed and not flailing in his embarrassment, “Your drunk roommate divulges… private information to you and you use it against him? What if I had been joking, you freak?!”
“Well,” his number one worst enemy’s eyes dart off to the side, like a coward, “I thought it might have been. But after the first time, I kind of got the feeling that…”
He decides to assume “first time” is about when Sangyeon first made a certain immature joke at him for the first time and no other firsts. Even with that distinction, it’s not enough to calm Hyunjae down to restrain himself from tackling the man.
“You’re sick.”
“I really like you, Hyunjae.”
“Don’t try to distract me.” Hyunjae is suddenly too aware of the position he put himself in. Again.
Sangyeon, annoying, frustrating, handsome Sangyeon just smiles.
When Hyunjae collapses on top of him and feels a gentle hand on his back instantly, he decides he’s going to give up. It’s a little easier to say things he doesn’t want to admit when supported by Sangyeon’s firm chest. Not that his words come out much louder than a petulant mumble when he says, “I like you too.”
Even though the man under him looks for all the world like he just won the lottery, Hyunjae can’t quite get past his mortification. Sangyeon’s chest is a little less supportive when it’s rumbling with silent laughter.
“I’m never drinking again,” Hyunjae grumbles, though Sangyeon’s bright grin is starting to infect him too.
“Will you at least stay for breakfast?”
“You’re an idiot,” Hyunjae jabs. He sneaks in a quick peck while he’s at it. “It’s time for dinner.”