Chapter Text
Taehyun is clutching Soobin’s arm hard enough to bruise, and honestly? Soobin can relate.
“This is Jeongguk’s house?” Heuning Kai’s jaw gently brushes the premium, varnished walnut-wood floor. “I’ve been to airports smaller than this, holy shit!”
Soobin wasn’t too big on the whole party scene himself, preferring to sink any free time he got from uni into takeout and campy Netflix reality shows. He could order pizza for four (for one) and never had to go to an 8 am class with a hangover. He could go to bed at a reasonable hour. Yeah, Soobin was perfectly satisfied with his lifestyle choices.
That being said, the scene before them makes him feel like he’s been missing out. This had to be the most tricked-out bachelor pad he’d ever seen. And everyone, no seriously everyone he’s ever met and their second-cousins seem to be here, all in varying states of drunkenness. Was that his TA? Soobin’d never seen a rainbow vape before.
So this was how the other half lived.
Taehyun breaks the spell by grabbing a bright green drink off a nearby counter and downing it in one shot. “Let’s just find Beomgyu-hyung. He’s cool, he’ll know what to do.”
“Hm, debatable.” grins Kai. Nevertheless, he obligingly follows his roommate through a mass of grinding bodies before Soobin can process that he’d indirectly been declared uncool by Taehyun of all people. Taehyun, who reads Foucault for fun.
The night had begun like like this: with Soobin in a dorm room that closely resembled a small town in the wake of a tornado, or some kind of multicoloured beast with socks for eyes.
He’d tried squinting his eyes, tilting his head this way and that but was still unable to differentiate between the two virtually identical shirts that Taehyun had shoved in his face.
“They look the same to me, though?”
“Hyung!” Taehyun had whined uncharacteristically. “This one is more blue-ish than the other one and look. It has an embroidered pocket.” Soobin simply nodded as if this should have been perfectly obvious as Taehyun dived back inside the closet for inspiration.
“Why do you care so much about how you look, anyway? It’s just a party, Taehyun.” Soobin had said, two years of general university drudgery more than enough to fade the memory of being a nervous freshman himself, trying to act cooler than he was.
“Just a party?” Taehyun’s voice went up an octave. He shared a look with Kai (who was lounging on his bed watching vine compilations) as if to say Can you believe this guy. Soobin rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s an off-campus party, hello, and secondly,” Taehyun paused for dramatic effect. “It’s Jeongguk-sunbae’s party.”
“But you’re freshmen!” Soobin said, affronted. “Even I haven’t been to a Jeongguk party.”
“That’s not exactly a high bar to cross.” Taehyun muttered, fixing a stray lock of hair in the mirror. “Besides,” he’d continued, louder. “You need to get out of your room, hyung. When was the last time you got laid?”
“That’s literally? None of your business?” Soobin had sputtered, ears glowing.
“So it’s been a while.” Taehyun hummed as Huening Kai scrunched up his face in mock grief. “ At the prime of his youth and impotent.” he’d sniffled. “It’s so sad.”
“To reiterate — shut up, Hyuka — who and when I chose to do t-that with has nothing to do with you guys!” Soobin paused, flustered. “And what do you mean I need to get out? I’m not even invited, though?”
Huening Kai rolled over to shoot Soobin a conspiratory wink. It was sort of worrying. “Beomgyu-hyung knows a guy.”
His brows drew together. “Well, technically, this guy in Beomgyu-hyung’s dance class knows a guy who knows someone’s sister who’s invited, and so he invited Beomgyu-hyung, and Beomgyu-hyung invited me, his favorite (“Lies.” said Taehyun). And of course, once Taehyun heard it was Jeongguk’s party he invited himself.” Kai grinned. “And now, we’re inviting you!”
Soobin sighed. “But—”
“Hyung, c’mon.” Kai made his best puppy face — the one he knew Soobin couldn’t resist. “You’ll have us there for moral support. I’ll be the world’s best wingman and everything.”
“The last thing I need is you guys hovering around making things awkward on the off chance I do meet someone.”
“Not to fear, hyung.” Taehyun held up a reassuring hand. “If things get uncomfortable, I’ll simply wow them with my card tricks.” Soobin knew he was being serious.
“Hyung, please don’t let me be the only one next to the guy doing card tricks!” cried Huening Kai, panicky. “I need you!”
Despite being roasted to death just moments prior, Soobin ruffled his hair fondly, his hyung-senses appeased. “Well, if you need me.”
“Kiss-ass.” Taehyun mouthed at them through his reflection in the mirror, but Soobin caught a grin before he pulled a turtleneck over his head.
Soobin considered it. Their reasons for wanting him to go along might’ve be impure but their hearts were in the right place. Oh hell, why not? It had been a while since Soobin had had a night out, after all. Maybe he could steal a couple of selfies with Jeongguk himself, if he was lucky.
Less than a minute. That’s how long it had taken for them to abandon Soobin, promises of “moral support” found dead in a ditch. He’d remember this.
Jeongguk’s place was huge and there was a lot to do and see. He’d wandered around for a while, had a few drinks, socialised with people from the Food Science department, and generally had a decent time. A cute noona from his Humanities 201 who’d pointed him in the direction of the bathroom after he’d gotten lost had even complimented him on his jacket — a black denim one from Taehyun’s reject pile. Soobin had been uncertain about it since it was a tad short on him, so it was nice to be reassured that he still looked like a snack.
All in all, Soobin decides that parties are neat but whether or not they're better than pizza for four (for one) and Terrace House was still up for debate.
Honestly, the strangest thing about the atmosphere of the evening was how unspeakably, unbearably horny everyone seemed to be. Soobin had accidently walked in on more than one couple going at it in darkened rooms in his quest to find the kitchen. One couple had even slurred at him to join them. Soobin had backed away so fast that he’d nearly tripped over his own feet, bowing repeatedly as he apologised. The heady bubblegum-flavoured smoke in the room had made his eyes water.
He’s leaning against a wall, flicking through Taehyun’s Instagram stories — Kai, who’d started drinking all of two months ago, was going to attempt a keg stand, the madman — and wondering whether it’s time to call it a night when someone presses a can of chilled beer into his palm. Soobin turns to politely tell whoever it was that he doesn’t do beer, it’s far too bitter for him when the words traitorously die in his throat after coming face to face with one of the most gorgeous people he’s ever seen.
The hair is the first thing he notices: electric blue and wavy, tucked behind a silver studded ear. Next are the catlike eyes and a smirk playing on full, bow lips. Long, long legs. Soobin belatedly realises that he’s staring.
“See something you like?”
It’s the cheesiest line in existence, but it must be true what they say about things in life simply coming easier to hot people because the guy pulls it off.
Seeing as Soobin.exe had unexpectedly stopped working, his tongue decides to go ahead with what it was last tasked with. “No thank you!”
The guy looks taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting such a straightforward rejection. Ah fuck! Fucking shit—
“The beer!” Soobin blurts out. “N-no thanks, I don’t drink beer.”
To his relief, the blue-haired Adonis cracks a smile. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended at Soobin’s verbal inadequacy. The beer disappears and is replaced with a glass of something fruity and orange, so fast that Soobin wonders if he’d pulled it out of thin air. Taehyun would be impressed.
“I’m Yeonjun.” he says, handing Soobin the drink. “Soobin.” Soobin says, licking his lips. It’s not intentional — they’re dry as hell and he really should’ve taken up Kai’s offering of chapstick earlier — but it doesn’t escape him how Yeonjun’s eyes track the movement.
“Are you on your own tonight?” Yeonjun asks, gaze flicking back up to meet Soobin’s. Ah, it made sense that this beautiful stranger was just taking pity on him. Soobin must’ve looked like a friendless loner the way he’d been standing in a corner with his phone.
“I came with a couple of my juniors, but they ditched me as soon as we got here.” Soobin confesses.
“Lucky!” Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle. “I get to have you all to myself.” Soobin feels his ears grow impossibly warm and hopes to all that is holy that they aren’t visible in the dim light of the penthouse.
“Crazy party, huh?” Yeonjun says, surveying the makeshift dance floor. The DJ is a short blonde dude who Soobin doesn’t know by name but vaguely remembers seeing around campus in his freshman year. “I lost my friends a while ago too.”
Soobin smiles at the phrasing. “Sorry for your loss.” he says solemnly.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” Yeonjun says, without missing a beat. “Car accident.”
“God I wish that were me.”
“I know right? Gotta pay those pesky student loans somehow.” It’s no laughing matter, but Soobin laughs anyway as they clink their glasses together in broke Gen Z solidarity.
“I took the harder road,” Yeonjun sighs. It’s a soft, huffy sound. Soobin’s eyes are drawn to the thin, black choker around his neck. “Part-timing at the uni cafe.”
Wait. “The one near the theatre block?” asks Soobin.
“Mm. The one and only.”
“Liar.”
Yeonjun looks surprised. “No, I really do.”
“No, you don’t.” Soobin says firmly. “I practically live at that cafe — they have the best choco croissants — and I know I’ve never seen you there 'cause I would’ve definitely—” Soobin stops when he sees Yeonjun covering his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh. The implication of his unsaid words sink in. I would’ve definitely remembered you.
“ I — I mean!” Soobin valiantly tries to recover, but Yeonjun stops him by taking one of his hands in his. Soobin feels like he might pass out with how fast his heart is beating. “Let’s go sit down somewhere, yeah?”
“Y-yeah.” Soobin mumbles.
Yeonjun ducks his head in the direction of a nearby couch covered in a funky pop print. They fall onto it still holding hands. Soobin can’t help but stare. Was anyone else seeing this shit? Astounding, unprecedented, unparallelled. Then Yeonjun crosses his legs and Soobin has to deal with averting his gaze for more than one reason. Though in his defense, he can hardly be blamed when Yeonjun’s jeans looked two seconds away from ripping apart at the seams with how tight they were.
“I work the night shift.” Yeonjun explains, twisting his hand so their palms lie flat against each other. Soobin dimly registers that Yeonjun must be older than him, since freshmen and sophomores weren't allowed to work after seven. “It’s pretty slow until before finals week. Then everyone wants ultra-black double espressos or some shit equivalent all night long.”
“Couldn’t be me.” Soobin manages. “I like my coffee weak with tons of cream and sugar. The frills are the best part, y’know?
“Makes sense.” Yeonjun nods. “Sweet drinks for a sweet dude.”
“Sunbae!”
“Yo, that’s so formal. Call me hyung, I’m only a year older than you.” Yeonjun says, and Soobin doesn’t think to ask how he knows that. “Hey Soobinie, your hands are pretty big, huh?”
“Hm? Yeah I guess.” Soobin says, blindsided by the sudden nickname. Yeonjun’s fingers are dancing in and around Soobin’s own, stroking his knuckles, rubbing circles into the back of his thumb. Soobin is very aware of how he’s sandwiched between the armrest and Yeonjun, Yeonjun's side pressed flush against his own on the couch. It’s interesting, since it’s a pretty big couch.
“S-so, do you know the host?” Soobin says, clearing his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to not overthink their proximity without the distraction of conversation.
Yeonjun grins. “Who doesn’t know Jeon Jeongguk?” Uh, duh, obviously. Soobin’s an idiot.
Yeonjun goes on talking. “We go to the same dance class. I’m a third year dance minor.”
“I have a friend who’s a dance minor!” Soobin says excitedly. “Choi Beomgyu. Maybe you guys know each other?”
Yeonjun tilts his head in thought. “Beomgyu? Beomgyu... describe him, maybe we do.”
“Brownish hair, pretty face? He’s a sophomore.”
“Oh that guy. Seems nice at first but doesn’t respect anyone?”
“That’s him.” Soobin sighs.
“He straight up called me gross once ‘cos I brought a mint chip bar to class.”
Soobin’s distress at Beomgyu’s behavior is eclipsed by this potentially game-changing news. “Yeonjun-sunbae, mint chip is gross.”
“You’re gross!” Yeonjun drops their hands immediately, making Soobin snort. “I thought we could be friends but it turns out you’re just a tasteless fool. Go hang out with your Beomgyu and his pretty face.”
“You’re prettier.” Soobin says honestly, without thinking.
Yeonjun lets out a sharp laugh, like Soobin had surprised him. Soobin covers his face with his hands, feeling his ears grow red. They’re his most annoying tell — he wishes he could pull off long hair like Huening Kai so he could cover his ears all the time.
“You’re the type to say the first thing that comes into your mind and get embarrassed a second later, huh?” Yeonjun’d basically hit the nail on the head, not that Soobin was about to admit it.
Next to Yeonjun, Soobin feels even more out of depth in his own skin than usual. He’s always speculated that he must be a small individual in a tall person’s body, the way his limbs sometimes feel too big for the rest of him and his laugh too loud.
But it’s also exhilarating — how easily conversation seems to flow between them; how Yeonjun could be talking to anyone, anyone at this party right now but instead he was here, holding hands with Soobin. How Soobin has been raving about Terrace House for ten odd minutes and Yeonjun still doesn’t look bored.
“ — and like, even though they have to share this living space it’s not awkward or anything?” Soobin struggles to find words that express the magnitude of his feelings. “At the end of the day, they all really care about each other.”
“What, so there’s no drama?”
“There’s no drama, is the thing!”
“Sounds wholesome.” Yeonjun hums. “It suits you.” Soobin tilts his head to ask what he means by that, Soobin is a badass thank you very much when he realises Yeonjun’s face is just inches away from his. When had they gotten so close?
“We should watch it together, sometime.” says Yeonjun, and Soobin doesn’t have time to process the notion of Yeonjun being interested in him beyond the bubble of this party, this couch, because Yeonjun, still radiant, is standing up and tugging at Soobin’s wrist and saying do you want to dance and Soobin is… going along with it? He’s completely caught up in Yeonjun’s rhythm, powerless to resist.
The bass thumps reckless and familiar and Soobin learns that Yeonjun is a really, really good dancer. He’s glad that the crowd makes being all up in each other’s personal space necessary because he doesn’t think he can keep his hands off Yeonjun if he tried. The way Yeonjun’s moving his hips is something sinful.
At some point, Yeonjun curls an arm around his waist and brings the other around to the back of Soobin’s neck to press their foreheads together as they move in beat to the music. It’s sweaty and hot, but even though they’ve been dancing for a while, Yeonjun doesn’t look half as out of breath as Soobin feels. His face is flushed and triumphant, and Soobin can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. Soobin wants to be closer, closer.
“What was that?” Yeonjun says when Soobin’s words are lost in sound.
“I said, I’m really glad I came out here tonight.”
Yeonjun smiles, “Me too, dude.”
“And, um,” Soobin plucks up his courage before it runs away, “To answer your earlier question, I, uh, do like it. What I see, I mean.”
There’s a hot second in which Yeonjun’s whole body goes still, his hands on Soobin’s chest. People dance all around them, but time seems to freeze in place. Soobin wants to hit himself. God, that sounded so stupid, he probably doesn’t even rememb—
Then Yeonjun breaks out into laughter and it’s the best thing Soobin’s heard all night, or like, ever, maybe. “You’re so cute, Soobinie.” he says, eyes crinkling like wrapping paper on Christmas.
Soobin isn’t given too long to dwell on it, though, because Yeonjun— Yeonjun is, fuck, sliding his fingers through Soobin’s belt loops and pulling him closer until their hips are aligned. Then he leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle the shell of Soobin’s ear and whispers,
“I can be cute too. Wanna see?”
Soobin finds it in himself to nod. Once, twice, vigorously. Yeonjun just grins and grazes his teeth against Soobin’s earlobe like a promise. He just as quickly pulls away — Soobin misses the warmth immediately — and saunters off the dancefloor, gesturing for Soobin to follow.
Holy shit.
“Are you— ah — sure we can be up here,” Soobin gasps as Yeonjun slides a cool hand under the hem of Soobin’s shirt, making him forget his train of thought and possibly his own name. “Yeonjun-sunbae.”
Somehow, against all odds and Soobin’s raging semi, they’d kicked open doors until they’d found a tiny, narrow room, bare except for a beat-up green couch and a couple of cardboard boxes overflowing with what Soobin had briefly processed as exercise equipment before he’d been pushed onto said couch, Yeonjun climbing on top of him.
“I thought,” Yeonjun huffs into his mouth, biting Soobin’s lip reproachfully. “I told you to call me hyung.”
Yeonjun straddles Soobin, hands running through his hair in frantic motions, tugging softly — an action that shouldn’t be so hot but is. Yeonjun’s fingers find one of Soobin’s ears and absentmindedly pull. It surprises them both when Soobin moans, loud in the empty room.
“You liked that, Soobinie?” Yeonjun grins down at him, face a picture of desire and glee. God, he was stunning. His blue hair was all messed up and his lips were bruised red and wet . Soobin grabs the lapels of Yeonjun’s jacket by way of answer and crashes their mouths together again. Why was he still wearing a jacket. It didn’t seem fair seeing how Soobin’s had ended up on the floor mere seconds after they’d stumbled in through the door.
Yeonjun is a better kisser than him, by a long shot. Soobin supposes it’s just one of the many things at which Yeonjun excels. It’s kind of embarrassing that Soobin hasn’t had any practice of late, but he makes up for his lack of skill with sheer enthusiasm and perseverance. He wanted to make Yeonjun feel as good as he did now.
Experimentally, he grinds upwards, his clothed dick rubbing against Yeonjun’s and it’s worth it for the sound Yeonjun makes, sweet and high. Soobin takes the opportunity to press kisses just this side of too hard into the thin skin of Yeonjun’s exposed collarbone.
“Do that again.” Yeonjun gasps. Soobin takes it as a challenge, rolling his hips just to force more sounds of Yeonjun. His teeth find that damned choker, tugging lightly.
“So pretty.” Soobin mumbles nonsensically into the other’s neck. “You’re so pretty, hyung.”
Yeonjun pushes at his shoulders and Soobin briefly wonders whether he’d done something wrong, crossed an unknown line, until Yeonjun blinks down at him, color high in his cheeks. “Hey Soobin, I really wanna suck you off. That cool?”
Soobin doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. What could he, logically, objectively, whatever when the most beautiful boy he’d ever met was clambering down to his knees in front of Soobin and expertly unbuckling his belt. All he knew was that this was how he was going to die. He was going to die and it was going to feel so good.
Yeonjun pulls Soobin’s dick out of his underwear, letting out a low whistle. “Guess your hands aren’t the only thing that’s big, Soobinie!” If Soobin wasn’t harder than he’d ever been before in his life, he’d want the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.
Coincidentally, that’s exactly what Yeonjun does.
Apropos of nothing, he takes as much of Soobin into his mouth as possible in one go. “Fuck,” Soobin groans, hand going to Yeonjun’s head of its own accord but stopping short. What if Yeonjun wasn’t into that? Yeonjun, however, hums around his dick, reaching for Soobin’s hand on his own and bringing it to his hair.
“It’s ‘kay,” he pulls off with a small pop to say, “I like having my hair pulled.” God. Soobin swallows thickly and allows his fingers to curl into Yeonjun’s locks — they were just as soft as he’d imagined. And then Yeonjun is back at it, tongue laving up and down Soobin’s length, licking delicately at the head before taking him in his mouth again. Soobin can hardly catch his breath.
Soobin wonders what they call it when you’re horny, but in your feelings. Obviously he’s regular-horny as hell right now but his heart was also so, so full. He was heart-horny.
He’s still thinking about this when Yeonjun’s talented tongue does something to the sensitive vein on the underside of Soobin’s cock and he sees stars. Soobin comes, gasping, into Yeonjun’s mouth without so much as a warning.
“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” Soobin panicks, even through his pleasured daze, “I didn’t mean to—” but Yeonjun just blinks up at him, maintaining eye contact as he swallows.
“Hyung,” Soobin is disproportionately choked up. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“S’fine.” Yeonjun grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Loved seeing how gone you were.”
Soobin fists the soft white fabric of Yeonjun’s shirt, pulling him up and back into Soobin’s lap. He wants, no he needs to return the favor. “Yeonjun-hyung, please, can I—”
The door to the room swings open. “THERE YOU ARE! Soobin-hyung, you’ll never believe what Hyuka di—” Taehyun stops in his tracks. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck. “Yeonjun-sunbae?” another voice says, hidden from Soobin’s view but sounding as baffled as Taehyun looked. Of course Beomgyu was here too.
“Oh. Sorry for interrupting.” says Taehyun, but he makes no move to close the door, or like, leave. Presumably, the fates had decided that hey, Soobin had already died a bunch of times tonight, what was once more?
“Haven’t you guys ever heard of knocking?” this was from Yeonjun.
Soobin was too busy making sure his crotch wasn’t exposed to notice that Yeonjun had at some point risen and readjusted his hair and clothes back into place. He looked flawless and unruffled, the only thing indicating what they’d been up to were the slight dusting of pink on his cheeks and a line of slowly darkening hickies disappearing under his shirt collar. Soobin distantly realises he wants to cry.
“See you around, Soobinie.” Quick as a flash, Yeonjun drops a kiss onto Soobin’s forehead. “Thanks for tonight.” And with a short wave, he strolls out of the room, seemingly unconcerned with the storm he’d left behind. Soobin looks everywhere but at Taehyun’s shit-eating grin.
“The fuck was that?” says Beomgyu, slipping into satoori in his shock.
“I — I don’t know.” Soobin says, truthfully.
Well, whatever it was, it had been decidedly better than pizza and Terrace House.