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Suhyeok feels empty, drained out of everything that usually makes him who he is.
His brain can’t wrap around what just happened, and he can distantly hear the stupefied and hiccuping laugh he let out, knees giving out under him, hands breaking his fall on the harsh concrete of the construction site.
Cheongsan is gone. Gone, gone, gone. Suhyeok shakes his head. It cannot be. It’s just a nightmare. It can’t be real. He’s gonna wake up, and the whole scene will fade away before him, replacing this desolate landscape of brick and caution tape with Cheongsan’s sweaty but radiant face.
If he concentrates hard enough, his mind a whirlwind of quick and painful flashes depicting the events that happened mere minutes ago, he can still faintly hear Cheongsan’s voice, taunting the monsters surrounding them, voice cracking up on a desperate cry.
***
Minutes before, Cheongsan refuses to kiss him. Suhyeok is petrified.
‘You have no idea how much I want to, Hyeok. But I—I can’t. Can’t risk you, not like this, not for that. The payoff isn’t worth your life, you understand ?’
Suhyeok doesn’t. He advances, forcefully taking Cheongsan’s face between his hands, pressing a desperate kiss to his parted lips. Cheongsan kisses back immediately, his own hands coming up to burrow themselves in Suhyeok’s disheveled hair, grasping the strands almost violently.
Suhyeok lets out a low groan, desire and despair mingling unrecognizably inside his gut, cold sweat and hot tears cascading down his face ; bone deep exhaustion, fear and sadness paralyzing his whole body save for his trembling mouth.
Cheongsan’s touch on him is painful, borderline bruising ; there’s nothing gentle about it, all rough and sharp presses of lips, his grip vice-like in his hair, on his waist, his hips, down the firm line of his arms ; his moans and whimpers needy and desperate.
They stay pressed to each other for a moment, before Cheongsan takes a step back, pulling out of Suheok’s grasp. He’s breathless, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall, mouth set in a wobbly pantomime of a smile.
‘I wish we had more time, Hyeok, but I’m still so grateful for what we did get’, he says, eyes brimming with a new wave of unshed tears, hands coming up to wipe off the ones that managed to escape along the sides of his dirt stricken cheeks.
‘It might be a bit soon considering we only got together like yesterday, but I didn’t want to leave without you knowing that I love you’, Cheongsan continues, voice breaking on the last few words.
In the distance, the growls are getting louder.
They ignore it. Cheongsan takes a deep breath.
‘You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted you to know, before—’
Suhyeok cuts him off, head shaking fiercely.
‘Of course I love you too, Sannie-ah. Please don’t go.’
He’s not above begging. He’s not above anything, really, if it can bring Cheongsan back to him safely. There’s a deep certitude thrumming inside him, clearing the fog of hopelessness and sorrow taking apart his mind viciously : if he could sacrifice himself for Cheongsan’s sake, he would.
As it is though, life has dealt them a supremely shitty hand. It’s a peculiarly searing kind of pain to see what you have dreamt about for so long finally becoming yours, just to be snatched away moments after.
Cheongsan takes another breath, and Suhyeok can feel him steeling himself, his body and gaze tightening, resolve strengthening. Cheongsan fixes him with one hard determined glance, mind made out about what needs to be done.
Still, Suhyeok can see through the sharp edges and cracks of Cheongsan’s resolve. He’s clenching his convulsing hand, the blood sluggishly seeping through his wound a stark contrast against the pale golden white of his skin, and his jaw is quivering rhythmically, a tell-tale sign of stress and nerves Suhyeok was used to see before, during a test that Cheongsan hadn’t studied for, rather than in a life or death situation.
Cheongsan sends him one final glance, a small sad smile gracing his lips for what is indisputably the last time.
‘Don’t miss me too much, Bare-su.’
Cheongsan flees. Suhyeok feels himself sink.
***
Suhyeok doesn’t even remember how he ended up here, mind foggy with distorted memories that he’s not entirely sure belong to him. He recalls faintly how they all ran away while Cheongsan was acting as bait, the act so awfully and terribly wrong, feeling like betrayal, making his teeth grind against each other and his head throb sickly.
How they lost themselves in the maze of serpentine streets of the town they used to know, now so foreign in its stillness, the deathly hush covering it only sparsely broken by the frightening wheezes of the zombies roaming its street corners and alleyways.
How, finally, after so many trials and tribulations they lost count of them, they stumbled onto men wearing military gear, bumped into riffles being thrown in their faces, shouts ricocheting against their exhausted ears, signaling their arrival in the first zone inhabited with actual people and not remnants of lost humanity.
As it is, his group, consisting of the last standing students of their fallen school, a tight-knit band of former and newly made friends, relationships forged or fortified in survival, blooming through a soil made of blood, guts and tears, are now cooped up inside what is generously called a survivor camp, located on the outskirts of town.
This newly discovered respite however, feels only temporary. They can all feel the stilted air surrounding the borders of the shelter, as if life has completely and utterly froze outside, and is threatening to do the same here, the atmosphere growing steadily colder and wistful with loss and pain as days pass by.
They feel stopped in time, regular life abruptly brought to a halt, horizon filled with a misty fog, a dark grey haze of uncertainty and doubt towering above them like a veil made of lead.
It is, to say the least, particularly weird and difficult to get accustomed to this new norm they didn’t choose, feet dangling above this dark and unfathomable unknown, almost as scary, in freshly insidious ways, as the horrors they faced before.
So, when Suhyeok isn’t busy trying to adjust to this new reality, he tries ardently to not think about the friends and former life they left behind, sharp screams and cries and violent streaks of blood marring pure white hallways invading his mind, polluting his senses every waking moment of everyday.
He tries even more so not to think about Cheongsan.
It comes as no surprise that those particular visions are the most striking and vicious, clinging to him like some sort of disgusting dark oily slime, clogging his soul up to a point where he can feel himself merging with that foul matter made of rotting flesh, despair and regret. He can feel it shutting his airways, until it seems like he can’t breathe, as if lost deep underwater.
Suhyeok doesn’t talk to the others about it, convinced that they have their own stuff to process and grief to go through, but he can sometimes feel their eyes staring at him when they think he doesn’t notice. He knows he could come up and talk to them about his hardships, shared by all of them in varying degrees. Amongst them all, he’s convinced Onjo would gladly give him a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry upon ; but knowing it doesn’t mean he’s ready to confide, or that he would ever want to.
So he doesn’t, and more often than not even goes above and beyond to avoid them as much as he can without seeming too obvious.
His scanty room, barren and cold like a prison cell, becomes an involuntary shelter where he tries as much as he can to cope and grieve. However, his bed feels more like a coffin, and his tattered sheets more like a shroud, even more so when he wakes up from another nightmare, forehead damp with dry and fresh sweat alike, eyes wet with hot tears, and mouth dried by heaving breaths.
Suhyeok feels buried alive, head and body covered by ashes and embers, and wonders if it somewhat echoes what Cheongsan must have felt when the school went down and collapsed in a tumble of concrete and dust, body trapped underneath the rubble.
That image, blended with Cheongsan’s last desperate cries resounding in the building while he was running away with the others, are branded on his brain, like a fresh wound that will never heal and scar.
***
He wakes up one morning in a daze— afterwards, when trying to, he won’t be able to recall the exact date, everyday bland and monotonous, dawn fading into dusk over and over again seamlessly —, Onjo shaking him forcefully like she’s trying to murder him in his sleep.
‘Wake up, for fuck’s sake’, she mumbles over and over, frustration lacing her words and seeping out of her agitated body.
Suhyeok groans, trying to swat her hands away from him with weak and still sleepy limbs.
Not one to be deterred that easily, Onjo attacks him viciously, her long nails and sharp fingers digging painfully into his ribs.
Suhyeok lets out a sharp cry of pain.
‘What the fuck ?! What crawled up your butt today ?’
Onjo snorts disdainfully.
‘You’ll be sorry and then thanking me on your knees, when I tell you why I woke you up at crack o’clock in the morning, smartass !’
‘Oh yeah ?’, Suhyeok answers snidely. ‘I would like to see it.’
Onjo sizes him up, looking at him for several seconds with a hard to decipher look before taking a small breath, and drops, with an unfamiliar soft voice, the following bomb on him :
‘Cheongsan is back.’
Suhyeok feels his brain immediately split in two.
He’s silent for what feels like eternity, and the carefully crafted look of indifference Onjo is sporting starts to crack and shift into one of wariness and worry.
‘Suhyeok ?’, she starts, tone uncertain.
He cuts her off.
‘Are you shitting me right now ?’
His voice comes out sounding like ice, cold and lethal.
Onjo suddenly looks almost scared, the look foreign on her usually determined face.
‘Look, I know what it sounds like. I swear, I’m being serious.’ A pause. ‘I wouldn’t joke about it, you know that.’
Suhyeok nods his head automatically, mind torn between polarizing emotions. In truthfulness, he’s at a loss for words, baffled and puzzled by what Onjo just announced, and cannot make sense of it, or know how to react.
It’s just so… surreal.
It’s everything he’s ever wanted since that God awful day, but he knows, deep within himself, that as much as he can hope for it to be true, it just cannot be.
It’s just a fantasy, a bittersweet illusion that he can imagine and conjure up as much as he wants to, but will inevitably just make him hurt and suffer more, pain simmering and twirling inside his gut, woken up from the slumber of his apathy every time he conceive one of those delusions out of his tattered mind.
He squeezes his eyes shut. Onjo puts her hands on his wrist and presses it against his pulse point.
‘It’s Namra who found out.’
Suhyeok can feel his eyebrows raise and furrow.
Onjo rushes to add : ‘She didn’t want me to tell you or the others before being one hundred percent sure that it was him. She told me that she had seen someone lurking around her camp for awhile, but she couldn’t recognize any familiar smell, and thought it was probably a lost hambie kid looking for shelter. At least—, at first. But then, he showed up. Apparently, Cheongsan didn’t want to be identified until he had successfully tamed his…new instincts.’ She says the last words carefully.
‘He knew Namra would tell us that he was still alive as soon as she was sure it was him. He asked Namra to explain this to us, so you’d know why he didn’t show himself sooner. He doesn’t want you to be mad.’
Onjo finally falls silent and Suhyeok is left trying to piece up every information she just gave him. However, as much as he attempts to, his brain feels like mush in front of so many overwhelming news, and he can’t help the frustration and annoyance welling up inside him, toe to toe with his bone-deep relief and happiness.
So—what ? Cheongsan was actually alive all this time ? And he didn’t even bother trying to contact him ? He just… left him out to what, mourn ? That sounds both so unlike Cheongsan, who wouldn’t want him to suffer needlessly, but also so very like him and his stupid savior complex, that Suhyeok is just left flabbergasted with the sheer amount of dumbassery and egoism concealed as selflessness Cheongsan can actually muster up.
So, even after Onjo’s explanation, Suhyeok has trouble believing it, shaken up and livid. It doesn’t prevent the tremors of his hands, and the cold sweat pooling at his temples though, his body reacting as violently as his mind.
And then…
Unless—
What if ?
Hope finally flares inside Suhyeok all at once, bumbling up like hot blood, warming his skin where Onjo is holding him.
He gets up.
***
Suhyeok is breathless. Despite what Onjo said before, he’s convinced he must still be dreaming, for Cheongsan is standing in front of him, looking like perfection, like a mirage ; an oasis for a parched explorer in the desert, a divine revelation.
It could be heaven, but it must be hell, for such a striking image can only be the product of his fucked up and traumatized mind.
Suhyeok closes his eyes, and will the apparition to go away.
However, when he opens his eyes again, the phantom doesn’t disappear like all the other times before. Cheongsan is still here, his expression unlike the mask of indifference he usually wears in Suhyeok’s fantasies, brows furrowed and lips parted in a question.
The likeliness is crazy and terrifying of realism. Suhyeok feels almost sick to his stomach, gut churning uncomfortably with disbelief mixed with a sorrow so deep and strong he feels faint with it.
‘Suhyeok ?’
Suhyeok startles. It’s the first time the Cheongsan of his dreams speaks. He closes his eyes again, more forcefully, and begins to whisper, like a mantra : This ain’t real, this ain’t real, this ain’t real.
‘Suhyeok ?’, the voice taunts him again. ‘Please look at me.’
‘You’re not real.’, Suhyeok repeats louder. Onjo lied to me. She must have. There’s no way.
Cheongsan frowns.
‘You can’t be. You’re supposed to be dead.’, Suhyeok goes on, voice choking up.
‘Well, I’m definitely not’, the fake Cheongsan answers, chin jutting out defiantly.
Suhyeok chuckles humorlessly, and retort, voice like chalk against a blackboard :
‘I’ll give it to you, you got his sassiness down pat. If you could kindly fuck off now though, I’d appreciate it.’
Frustrated, Suhyeok goes to turn around, shaking his head, burying his fingernails deep inside the palms of his hands in an effort to wake up, when he gets stopped by a gentle press against his elbow.
He’s swiftly spun around, eyes landing directly in front of Cheongsan’s face.
‘I’m real, you fucking asshole.’, Cheongsan says, tone both soft and exasperated. ‘Do you need me to prove it to you ?’
He doesn’t give Suhyeok the time to answer or even react, and directly goes for a kiss, mouth pushing up against his hotly.
Suhyeok stays frozen for several seconds before responding fervently to the kiss, arms encircling Cheongsan’s waist possessively.
He’s still not convinced this Cheongsan isn’t a mere product of his imagination, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of the illusion his brain has conjured. It has never been this vivid before, and Suhyeok can feel every sweet move Cheongsan’s lips are making against his own, every hitched breaths and whimpers, even the familiar smell of his skin permeating the atmosphere.
They part at some point, but Cheongsan keeps a tight grip on Suhyeok’s clothes, and his face close to him.
‘I’m real, Hyeokie’, he mumbles again. ‘I’m real. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you.’ His voice breaks on the last few words.
Suhyeok’s vision suddenly swims, eyes filling up to the brim with hot tears. He’s powerless against the sobs starting up from deep inside, rattling and wracking his body and soul at once, all of his strength disappearing to leave an empty shell in its wake. He leans his full weight against Cheongsan’s smaller but comforting frame, Cheongsan’s arms caging him protectively, his warm breath fanning over his neck, whispering words of reassurance and affection.
He sniffles suddenly, voice quieted by the material of Cheongsan’s sweater.
‘You left me. You were around this whole time and I had no fucking clue.’
Cheongsan freezes up in his arms. Suhyeok barrels on, words leaving his mouth in a now unstoppable motion, anger and anguish filling up the chasm inside him.
‘I was fucking mourning you while you were away, what, five kilometers from here ? How could you not say anything, or at least give me a sign ? So that I’d at least know that you were still alive ? Huh ?’
The only sound answering his outburst is Cheongsan’s quickening breath, and Suhyeok immediately regrets ever opening his mouth, shame and anger directed at himself replacing his previous emotions in a dizzying merry-go-round of pent-up feelings.
Still, Cheongsan finally opens his mouth, and blabbers, his eyes filling up with his own onslaught of tears :
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Hyeok-ah.’
‘You can’t possibly imagine how many times I had to stop myself from reaching out—How it killed me inside to know that you were sure that I was dead, even though I wasn’t. Not in a way that mattered, at least.’
‘How fucking terrified I was, when I was imagining your reaction when I’d finally be ready to come back. How your face, and your smile, and all the memories we shared together were the only things keeping me holding on, when I woke up for the first time after, and I thought that I got given a fate worse than death could ever be.’
‘How, when I was about to just quit, say fuck it and try to find a way to off myself for good, the thought of you, what we could be, what I wanted us to be, kept me alive.’
Cheongsan is barely comprehensible at the end, sobs turning his speech choppy, tears clouding his vision over. Suhyeok is crying as well, hands cupping Cheongsan’s face shakily. Being so close to the other, he can’t discern where his tears end and where Cheongsan’s begin, all of it mixing up in a frankly disgusting wet mess over their respective clothing.
Suhyeok manages to open his mouth after a few tries, and can only mumbles, over and over :
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry for leaving before. Sorry for doubting. I love you.’
And amidst the tears, the realization hits Suhyeok like a sucker punch. This is what getting reawaken feels like.
As if he had been dead for several months, and he finally felt alive again.
***
Cheongsan has been back for several days now, but Suhyeok still can’t believe it. He feels in a constant dream-like state, completely bewildered and stupefied. He has to touch Cheongsan, physically feel him, every while or so, to put his mind at ease, to solidify in his conscience that Cheongsan is finally here, at long last back with him and the rest of the living.
Suhyeok would like to think that he never doubted it, that his heart never wavered, not even once, that he was always convinced that Cheongsan was somewhere, anywhere, alive, but that would be fooling himself.
And he refuses to do it now. He won’t lie to the others, he won’t lie to Cheongsan, and above all, he owes it to himself not to pretend anymore.
It’s excruciatingly hard, though. He didn’t realize until very recently how much easier it was to lie. How much tougher it is to be truthful, to be so completely honest and real.
And there are times, when he feels like failing, like giving up, like going back to his old ways and putting a mask on his emotions. In those way too many recurring phases though, a simple glance at Cheongsan’s perfect face and gorgeous eyes is enough to make him reconsider.
It comes to a head all at once, several days later, when they are making out in Suhyeok’s room at night, Cheongsan having sneaked in past the barricades and the soldiers doing rounds, wandering hands gripping at skin and clothes alike, muttered words and pleas and groans and whimpers getting steadily louder.
Suhyeok is in the middle of sucking a truly impressive bruise on Cheongsan’s skin, where jaw meets throat, when he suddenly bursts into tears. He immediately tries to stifle the sobs escaping his body, not wanting to startle Cheongsan, who’s already detaching himself from his grasp, brows furrowed and gaze worried. Cheongsan’s eyes, previously darkened by desire and lust, now glint with fear and uneasiness.
‘Suhyeok—? What’s happening, are you okay ?’
Another glance at him and Cheongsan takes him in his arms, encircling him in his slighter frame. He gently shushes him, chin laying atop his head and hands caressing his hair lightly to soothe him.
‘It’s okay, babe. You’re okay’, he murmurs softly.
Suhyeok shakes his head, furious for letting himself appear so weak, so vulnerable and small. He tries to speak, but only manages to weep even harder, and he pulls out of Cheongsan’s comforting embrace to angrily wipe at the tears streaming down his face.
‘I’m fine’, he grits out, so frustrated at himself, and Cheongsan flinches.
Suhyeok, seeing the minute reaction, feels even worse, and tries, as gently as he can manage : ‘I just need to get out of here for a little while.’
Cheongsan’s eyes fill up with apprehension. ‘I’ll be back soon, I promise’, Suheyok assures.
‘Do you want me to go instead—‘, Cheongsan asks, voice soft and unsure.
Suhyeok looks over at him, flabbergasted.
‘No, of course no—never.’
Cheongsan still looks, inexplicably so, unconvinced.
Suhyeok takes a deep breath.
‘Sannie. I don’t want to vent to much because I’m already on the verge of an incoming mental breakdown right about now, but there’s nothing I could want less than you gone. It’s a lot and I’m sorry for putting such a heavy weight on you, but you’re basically the only thing keeping me at least a tad bit sane and together right now. Even before to be honest.’
He pauses. ‘And besides, I love you. I want you close to me always. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go punch something. Be right back.’
Suhyeok flees, hands tightened into fists, frustration and unease making his leaving footsteps resonate even louder in the stillness of the room. Cheongsan lets him go, powerless and resigned, the atmosphere hanging heavily in the midst of shared unresolved trauma.
***
When Suhyeok comes back half an hour or so later, his depressive episode somewhat under control for the time being, Cheongsan is still half-sitting, half-laying on his unmade bed amidst the rumpled sheets. He’s busying himself with putting on one of Suhyeok’s sweaters…and, well, sniffing it ?, while doing so.
The image, which Suhyeok should probably find somewhat weird, actually makes something warm tingle inside him, the feeling emphasized by the fact that his jumper, already oversized for him, seems to engulf Cheongsan’s smaller frame completely. It makes Suhyeok feel things, irritation and embarrassment at his earlier outburst immediately forgotten, shoved at the back of his mind in favor of other emotions.
Suhyeok clears his throat, both to signal his arrival to Cheongsan, even though he shouldn’t have to, supernatural senses to be thanked for, and to put his foggy mind back into focus.
Cheongsan startles uncharacteristically, with a yelp that would normally make Suhyeok smile, but now only exacerbates the pinprick of arousal coursing up his body.
‘Hey’, Suhyeok starts nonchalantly, before adding, eyebrows raised teasingly : ‘Am I seeing things or were you actually…sniffing my clothes like a creep ?’
‘Er…’, Cheongsan stays speechless for a few seconds, ears turning suspiciously reddish. He then shakes himself up and sputters in a tone that’s probably supposed to be nonchalant, but ends up sounding outraged : ‘You definitely need to get your eyesight checked Bare-su, I was doing no such thing you weirdo !’
Suhyeok cannot help but chuckle, and fixes Cheongsan with his best deadpan look.
‘Sure thing babe. Whatever you say.’
Cheongsan’s eyes squint, and Suhyeok is preparing himself to be subjected to the stinkiest death glare Cheongsan will be able to muster, when his face does something complicated, and his gaze suddenly turn inexplicably soft.
‘Fuck, I’ve missed your laugh’, Cheongsan mumbles fondly, eyes widening slightly when he realize what he just said out loud. Suhyeok feels himself immediately shiver under the onslaught of solid warmth piercing him.
He crosses the room with two quick steps, and goes to place one of his hand on Cheongsan’s nape, the other sliding up his cheek, before quickly kissing him mute.
‘You have to stop doing that’, Suhyeok mutters when they part, and Cheongsan hums lightly, appraising him with a knowing look.
‘Doing what exactly ?’
Suhyeok huffs, going back to kiss Cheongsan more forcefully, while pushing him softly against his rumpled bed. Cheongsan goes easily, his own ams snaking around Suhyeok’s neck, and tugging him on top of him.
They just kiss for a while, lazy and slow presses of lips against lips with the occasional sharp nip of teeth and slip of tongue, before Cheongsan diverts his course of action by moving his head slightly, and starts kissing up along Suhyeok’s jaw and throat, his hands slipping underneath Suhyeok’s jumper and tee-shirt to feel up his bare torso.
Suhyeok jumps a little when he feels Cheongsan’s colder fingers on his warming up skin, but the surprise is soon replaced by a new wave of want, a low groan escaping from his parted lips.
The sound seems to spur Cheongsan on even more, and he tilts his head to kiss Suhyeok again, open-mouthed and hot and slick.
‘You feel better ?’, Cheongsan suddenly breathes out, detaching his mouth from Suhyeok’s, his gaze focusing on his face, eyes turned glassy by lust now taking on a more serious glint.
‘I do’, Suhyeok whispers, his lips brushing Cheongsan’s when he answers, the distance between their respective bodies almost non-existent, his own eyes racking Cheongsan’s face up and down sweetly and his hold on Cheongsan’s waist tightening slightly.
‘What about you ? You’re fine with the…’, Suhyeok asks in return, waving one of his hand in a vague motion between them to signal the subject of his question.
Cheongsan smiles.
‘I should be able to manage. And if not, I’ll tell you.’
Suhyeok nods his head several times in acquiescence, choosing to not insist and instead trust Cheongsan’s judgement. Besides, he has other things in mind, ideas and images bursting in his brain through his cornea like small fireworks.
‘I want to…I mean if you’d like—‘, he starts hesitantly, but get stopped by Cheongsan’s enthusiastic nod and embarrassed small smile.
‘Yeah. Yeah—sure. I’d like that. Definitely.’, Cheongsan says hotly, his face taking on a subdued sheepish red tint. Suhyeok knows that Cheongsan’s cheeks would have turned a flaming burgundy if not for his new state, which they clearly need to talk more about—but not right now—, and he giggles fondly, one of his hand cupping Cheongsan’s cheek gently.
‘You sure sound eager, mister’, he cannot help but tease, the childish jab comforting in its normalcy, reminiscent of their usual banter and back and forth pre-apocalypse, and Cheongsan rolls his eyes, both abashed and exasperated.
‘God, shut the fuck up please’, Cheongsan admonishes him petulantly, before diving back to kiss him again to do just that. Suhyeok doesn’t complain, knowing full when and how to surrender, even more so when the punishment given is so delightful and feels more like absolution.
He feels Cheongsan moving under him, grinding slowly and deliberately against his thigh, his hands moving back from under his shirt to tug at his sweater, trying to take if off.
Suhyeok breaks off the kiss, his gaze finding Cheongsan’s own, eyes hazy and out of focus.
‘Is it okay ?’, Cheongsan gasps in a drawn out voice, desire and yearning coloring his words as he stares up at Suhyeok.
‘Yeah’, Suhyeok pants out, divesting himself of the offending clothing without any grace, want thrumming and rushing through every cell in his body. The soft material of his sweater catches on his head, making his hair stick out in every directions, and Cheongsan chuckles faintly.
‘Yeah’, Suhyeok repeats when he bends down to take off Cheongsan’s own shirt, Cheongsan arching his back off the bed momentarily to make the move easier.
The first touch of bare skin on bare skin is heavenly, and Suhyeok doesn’t even try to bite off the groan escaping his throat, Cheongsan’s answering moan making his blood sing through his veins.
Suhyeok’s hands latch onto Cheongsan’s lithe waist, his grip firm and hold secure, while his hips start to move languidly in answer to Cheongsan’s slow griding moves against him.
It’s soon not enough for the both of them, as shown in Cheongsan’s frustrated huffs and Suhyeok’s wandering hands, which come up to press against the tent of Cheongsan’s clothed erection, palming the bulge there and opening Cheongsan’s trousers to gain access to the real thing.
Cheongsan, already a panting mess, keens loudly when Suhyeok’s hand comes in contact with his dick, one of his arms coming to latch itself around Suhyeok’s nape, fingernails biting the skin there, as he buries his face between Suhyeok’s neck and shoulder.
Suhyeok loses himself in his thoughts for a hot minute, marveling at how he gets to touch Cheongsan like this now, feeling his body and skin and whole being in new and electrifying ways, when merely weeks ago he was still mourning him, despairing at how he would never get to know any of this. It feels to good to be true, like a perfect dream born out of his most profound desires, and it’s only Cheongsan’s gasps and moans, and the feel of his velvety skin, that manage to ground him in the moment.
It’s Cheongsan’s plea —Come on, touch me — that shakes Suhyeok’s off his trance-like moment, and he starts stroking Cheongsan’s dick up and down, the movement insecure and inexperienced. The glide is rapidly made easier by precome, oozing steadily from Cheongsan’s tip, which Suhyeok spreads with a feverish hand over the length of Cheongsan’s cock. His own arousal begins to get uncomfortably tight, trapped in an almost painful way inside the confines of his jeans, and he starts grinding faster against Cheongsan’s hip, frustration building up in his gut at the stunted motion and range his trousers allow him. The need to feel even more of Cheongsan’s skin becomes more and more urgent ; preferably with his own dick out, rubbing against Cheongsan’s in a deep and sensual motion.
Cheongsan seems to hear and share his sentiment, ‘cause soon enough, Suhyeok feels eager hands tug at the opening of his jeans, to then slide them hurriedly down a couple inches, just below Suhyeok’s ass.
Cheongsan’s right hand immediately shoots down to press against his erection, squeezing gently but insistently, while his left hand reach back up to hold onto Suhyeok’s shoulder.
The reaction is immediate : Suhyeok lets out a broken moan, his teeth biting at his lower lip violently in a desperate attempt to silence the noise, and the hand not already preoccupied by jerking Cheongsan’s out busies itself by pulling down Cheongsan’s trousers lower, desperate for some more direct skin contact.
When their dicks finally touch, Suhyeok having taken both of them in his grasp to immediately grind them against one another, they both let out a string of expletives and moans alike, the sensation soaring up inside them like pure ecstasy.
It’s so much better than the last time, the feeling worlds apart from their quick and aborted tryst in the janitor closet what feels like a lifetime ago, and Suhyeok cannot help but send a prayer and a thanks into the universe, so damn grateful at having the chance of experiencing it again in such a heightened capacity with the boy he’s so damn in love with.
His new passing musing gets abruptly interrupted by Cheongsan’s voice, coming out low and raspy.
‘Suhyeok—Suhyeok, ah…I’m close—‘
Suhyeok can only speed his movement, angling his wrist slightly differently to make his hand slide deeper and tighter along both of their lengths, his eyes not leaving Cheongsan’s face, which is now thrown back against the pillow, heavy puffs of breath escaping his parted and raw bitten lips.
‘Me too, God—Me too’, answers Suhyeok between pants, a bead of sweat dripping slowly along the side of his face. He ignores it in favor of focussing on the sensation coursing through his body and culminating in his cock, feeling so close he can almost smell and taste his release.
Suddenly, Cheongsan’s hand goes to press against Suhyeok’s own, derailing the harsh rhythm and friction. Suhyeok slows down, disoriented, and peers at Cheongsan’s face, worry starting to break amidst the wave of desire and lust that had engulfed him so thoroughly.
Suhyeok is about to ask what is wrong when he gets interrupted by Cheongsan’s needy voice :
‘Wait, ah—I brought something—‘, he starts, before stopping to catch his breath, his hand coming up to impatiently push back the few strands of hair that has started to cling to his face.
Suhyeok furrows his eyebrows lightly, not getting it, his hand falling limply onto his lap.
‘…You brought something—?’, he repeats, incomprehension lacing his voice.
‘Erh yeah, I found some, well, lube, during one of my runs, and I figured—well, if you want to of course…’, Cheongsan answers before trailing off, his tone nonchalant but the undercurrent of awkwardness well audible with how his voice wavers at the end of the sentence.
‘You figured ?’, repeats Suhyeok dumbly, not quite believing his ears and not wanting to assume anything of that new and unexpected development.
‘For fuck’s sake Hyeokie’, groans Cheongsan, growing frustrated and ashamed. ‘I thought we could, you know, go further. If you want.’
Suhyeok stays silent for a few seconds, struck dumb once again, which definitely makes Cheongsan freaks out, as he exclaims :
‘Or not ! I mean, there’s no rush, okay ? Don’t worry about it, we can just—‘
This time, it’s Suhyeok who interrupts him, fixing him with a leveled and calm stare, that betrays nothing of the inferno of surprise, lust and love raging inside him.
‘Okay.’, he says simply, getting up to shed his last clothes off, then to reach out for Cheongsan’s bag, which lays unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed.
‘Okay ?’, Cheongsan repeats, bewildered. ‘Just like that ?’
Suhyeok kneels down to rummage through the inconspicuous black bag, and after having found the small tube hidden in the interior pocket, struts back to the bed, and plops the unassuming bottle of lube on top of it, making it bounce.
The silence following that is astounding.
Cheongsan starts to chuckle nervously.
‘So… How do you wanna do it ?’
Suhyeok just shrugs, feeling awkward and way out of his depth, still standing fully naked in front of the bed and Cheongsan.
‘I mean, I don’t know. Never done it, so—‘, he begins.
‘Wait, what ?’, Cheongsan cuts him off, eyebrows raised, face deadpan.
‘Hmm ? You didn’t know ?’
‘Well, I assumed you must have—‘
‘Nope.’
‘But I mean surely—You were the most popular guy in class, so…Come on—‘
‘Hm, I don’t see the correlation here—‘
‘Oh please Suhyeok, for fuck’s sake—‘
‘Anyways— I’ve been in love with you pretty much since the first time we talked, so I don’t know how that would have happened with that in the way so—‘
‘…Excuse me ?’
Suhyeok clamps his mouth shut. Cheongsan is watching him intently, his previous look of dismay and astonishment being slowly replaced by a fond smile and enamored eyes.
‘Come here’, he murmurs, gesturing at Suhyeok to beckon him over. Suhyeok approaches, and Cheongsan wastes no time to put his arms around his middle in a comforting hug.
‘I don’t care if neither of us have done it before you know, we’ll figure it out.’
Suhyeok nods.
‘I just want you so much’, Cheongsan continues, voice muffled by his face being smashed against Suhyeok’s bare stomach. ‘You on top, me on top, whichever, I don’t care. I just—‘, Cheongsan lets the rest of his declaration hang in a sigh.
‘I get it’, Suhyeok answers softly, his hands coming to card through Cheongsan’s hair affectionately. ‘I don’t care either, babe. Just wanna be with you.’
Cheongsan moves his head briskly, peering at Suhyeok from under his eyelashes, a slow playful grin starting to form on his lips.
Suhyeok suddenly yelps, as he feels himself get thrown on top of the bed without so much as a warning. Cheongsan’s face comes up to his to kiss him with renewed vigor, his scorching need palpable through every press of lips against his, and with how his hand immediately drops down low to reach for both of their neglected length, feeling up Suhyeok’s ass on the way.
Suhyeok moans. They get to work.
***
Suhyeok sighs, head heavy against the soft weight of his previously abused pillow.
He doesn’t know what the future holds for them, has no way of predicting what could and will happen, and the uncertainty and fragility of that overwhelming and distant dawn makes him both terrified and breathless when he stops and tries to analyze it. However, laying in bed under the skin warmed covers, Cheongsan’s body held tight and secure in his embrace, it’s giddiness that he feels thrumming under his skin and through his bones, impatient and eager at finding it out.
And so, tomorrow, when a new day breaks through the flimsy curtains of Suhyeok’s sad excuse of a room, he knows with a fierce certitude that they will rush together towards the unknown once more.