Chapter Text
The night started like this.
Sieun remembers sitting across from Seongje at the restaurant, the soft glow of candlelight flickering between them. Today was their 2nd anniversary. He had woken up that morning to no texts from his boyfriend, no missed calls. When they met up after their afternoon classes, Seongje still hadn't acknowledged what day it was.
Sieun wanted to leave it at that, told himself that it doesn’t really matter, but then Suho had accidentally bumped into him and Seongje at the university gate, all teasing smiles as he asked if they were heading off for anniversary sex. Seongje looked a bit taken aback momentarily, before composing himself and playing along as if he hadn’t forgotten. He then tells Suho with a wink, “Yeah, but I gotta wine and dine him first.”
Sieun kept his eyes on the floor, knowing that if he spared a look at Suho, he would see the silent judgment in his eyes.
His boyfriend never acknowledged what had happened. Never admitted that he forgot. He only asked where Sieun wanted to eat.
It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. But then again, Sieun should have expected this. For months now, Seongje had been growing distant. He’s been quieter when they’re together, colder, a ghost of the person he used to be.
Now, sitting across from him, Sieun silently sighed. He had waited for the moment his boyfriend would look up, acknowledge him, reach for his hand, or just anything really, to make Sieun feel like they were still the same. But the moment never came.
Instead, Seongje scrolled through his phone between bites of food, nodding absently when Sieun spoke. Mmm. Yeah. Sounds good. His voice was there, but he wasn’t.
By the time they left, Sieun’s chest felt hollow.
Seongje had assumed they were going back to his apartment after, most likely for sex. But Sieun mutters an excuse about a homework and deadline he has to get to, and turns around to go home. He really isn’t in the mood right now. Seongje just nodded and went back on his phone, hadn’t even offered to walk him home, or even give a kiss goodbye, just like he used to.
Sieun had really intended to go straight home, but somehow, Sieun found himself at Suho’s apartment door.
Suho took one look at him and at the tightly wound tension in his shoulders, at the way his teeth gnawed at his lower lip. He laughed, low and knowing.
“Bad date?”
Sieun didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Suho had let him in without another word. That was the first mistake (At least, the first that he knew of).
"You should thank me, you know. For not saying ‘I told you so.’" Suho teased, leaving Sieun at the foyer as he walked straight towards the fridge.
"You're literally saying it right now," Sieun muttered, shutting the door behind him. He moved easily through the apartment, too familiar with the space to hesitate. He’d been here more times than he could count.
Suho came back and stopped in front of him, shoving a can of beer into his palm. “You’re so cute when you’re pissed off.”
With an eye roll, Sieun ignored Suho, heading straight for the living room.
It’s a familiar scene. Sieun showing up at Suho’s place unannounced, dropping onto the couch as Suho rummaged through his fridge for drinks. It was normal, especially because they’d been best friends for almost six years now. But tonight, something felt different. Like Sieun was a tightly wound string on the verge of snapping
Suho plopped down beside him, taking a long sip of his own beer, but instead of watching the TV, Sieun could feel Suho watching him from the corner of his eyes.
“What?”
Suho turned to him, lips curling into an infuriating smirk.
“So.” Suho drawled, stretching his legs out lazily. “You gonna tell me why you actually got with that asshole, or am I supposed to keep pretending to understand?”
Sieun sighed. He should’ve seen this coming. “It’s been two years. Give it up.”
“I mean, really.” Suho pushes, nudging Sieun’s thigh with his foot. “Out of all the guys at the uni, why Seongje? Was it the whole mysterious, brooding act? The whole ‘I’m so emotionally unavailable but maybe just for you’ thing?”
Sieun took a slow sip of his beer, pretending not to hear him. Suho and Seongje never really got along. Sieun used to get in the middle, planning nights out, hoping they’d learn to tolerate each other. They were the two most important people in his life, after all. But at some point, he just gave up. He never really figured out why they clashed… just that they did.
‘I don’t like him’ is what Suho told him the moment Sieun told him he and Seongje were dating. Sieun got pissed and ignored Suho for a few days after that. Eventually, Suho came to him apologizing and telling him he’ll try to be civil.
“Oh, come on,” Suho pressed, shifting closer. “You’re really not gonna say anything?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
Suho studied him for a second before grinning. “Is that what you told Seongje before running over here?”
Sieun almost chokes on his drink, feeling heat rising to his face and glares at Suho. “Will you shut up?”
Suho laughed, raising both hands in mock surrender before letting it go. He settled back against the couch, attention shifting to the TV, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. His fingers absently ghosting against the back of Sieun’s neck. It had been like this since their first year of high school. Suho had glued himself onto Sieun’s side from the start. Their classmates used to question Suho’s sanity, wondering why the most popular, outgoing guy in their year had decided to befriend Yeon Sieun. The quiet, top-ranked student who barely spoke to anyone.
Suho could have been friends with anyone. And yet, he’d chosen to follow Sieun around like a huge puppy.
Looking back, Sieun had questioned it too. But in the end, it didn’t really matter. Because much to his own dismay, he had warmed up to Suho far too quickly.
Suho was loud, annoying, overly affectionate, and cocky. But he was also kind, friendly, unselfish and carefree.
And Sieun had to admit that everything about him was annoyingly endearing.
“You’re so quiet.”
Sieun startled and sees that Suho’s watching him again, probably for a few minutes now. “Just thinking.” He answers absently, cracking open a second can of beer.
Suho hummed. “You’re always thinking.”
Suddenly, Sieun was too aware of the fingers boldly tracing the back of his neck, slow and unhurried. But the touch felt different, it felt too much.
Heat crept up his skin, and before he could stop himself, he shifted away from the touch. Suho has always been touchy and clingy, a little too much in his space, when it comes to Sieun. And Sieun, who had long since given up trying to reprimand him, had learned to just accept it. But right now, for some reason he couldn’t explain, he just wanted to get away.
Sieun didn’t notice the way Suho’s expression dropped at that, a frown replacing his easy smile.
“Say, Sieun-ah.” Suho starts. “Has the spark fizzled out? Is that why you’re here?”
“What do you mean?”
Suho chuckled, tilting his head as if he were considering something. Then, a little too casually, he asked, “How’s the sex with Seongje?”
Sieun froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” Suho said, completely unfazed. “I mean, two years is a long time. Gotta keep things exciting, right?” He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You ever get bored?”
“Suho.” Sieun’s voice was tight.
Suho grinned like he was enjoying this. “Relax. Just curious.”
Sieun set his drink down with more force than necessary. “Are you drunk?”
“I might have had a few already before you got here. But I'm not drunk.”
Sieun stayed silent. Coming here was a mistake, he should’ve gone home. Suho with alcohol is a rude, cocky asshole. And he doesn’t want any of that tonight.
But Suho wasn’t done. “Is he good in bed?”
Sieun sucked in a sharp breath, his stunned silence making Suho’s smirk widen.
He stared at Suho, finding himself at a loss for words with how incredulous this conversation had become. The question had caught him off guard, yes, but what tipped him over the edge was that Suho had never really pushed him like this before. Sure, he had always been vocal about his dislike for Seongje, always teasing him about their relationship, but he had never probed, he had always known when to back off.
So why was he acting like this now?
And why was Sieun getting so flustered?
“What is wrong with you?” Sieun stood abruptly. “I’m leaving.”
Suho caught his wrist and pulled him back to the sofa, his other hand curling around the back of his neck, surprising Sieun for a second.
“Do you really love him, Sieun?”
Sieun is annoyed at himself for hesitating, even just for a second. “Yes.”
“Then why are you here, drinking with me, on your second anniversary?”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Sieun moved once again to stand, but Suho was faster. In an instant, Suho was on him, pinning him to the couch, one hand braced beside Sieun’s head, the other closing around his wrist above them. His body was warm, solid, and too close.
"Let go," Sieun gritted out.
Suho didn’t. Instead, he leaned in, close enough that Sieun could feel his breath ghosting over his lips. "Why? Afraid of what this means?"
"This doesn’t mean anything," Sieun shot back, forcing out an angry exhale, even though he felt himself crumbling inside.
Suho huffed a laugh, the sound infuriatingly smug. "Right. Just like how you being here doesn’t mean anything.”
That was it.
Something in Sieun snapped.
With a sharp inhale, he grabbed Suho’s shirt, yanking him down into a harsh, desperate kiss. Their teeth clashed, the taste of alcohol sharp between them. Suho let out a low noise of surprise before matching his intensity, fingers tightening around Sieun’s wrist, nails pressing just hard enough to leave a mark.
Sieun didn’t think. Didn’t let himself.
The kiss was frantic, messy, and needy.
Suho adjusted his weight on the arm pinning Sieun’s wrists, while his free hand tangled in Sieun’s hair, tugging just hard enough to make him gasp into his mouth. Suho took advantage, deepening the kiss, tongue sliding against Sieun’s in a way that sent a sharp shiver down his spine.
Everywhere Suho touched burned. Every brush of his fingers sent sparks on Sieun’s skin, lighting up something raw and electric inside him.
The kiss felt like an argument, a challenge. Like they were daring each other to give in first.
Sieun gasped when Suho suddenly shifted, pressing him further into the couch. The warmth of Suho’s body was overwhelming, pinning him in place as hands roamed all over Sieun’s body. One hand slipping beneath his shirt to splay across his stomach, fingers warm and teasing against his heated skin.
“You didn’t answer me earlier.” Suho muttered against his lips, voice teasing.
Sieun barely registered the words, his mind hazy from Suho’s touch. “W-what?”
Suho’s lips dragged over the corner of his mouth, then along his jaw. “Is he?” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “Is Seongje good in bed?”
Sieun had half a mind to glare and tell him to fuck off before Suho rolled his hips down, grinding against him with slow, deliberate pressure. The firm drag of his cock against Sieun’s pulled a loud moan from his throat, his back arching slightly at the sudden pleasure jolting through him.
Suho laughed, breath hot against his skin. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
Sieun bit his lip hard, panting through the heat pulsing through him. “S-Shut up.” he gritted out, but the effect was ruined by the way his voice shook, by the way his body reacted, pressing up into Suho, chasing for more.
“I don’t think I will.” Suho mused, hips rolling down again, slow and deliberate, grinding down just right.
Sieun gasped, vision blurring as pleasure wracked through him. “Fuck–”
Sieun wanted to protest, humiliation washing through him, but his body betrayed him completely. Suho’s cock was hard against his own, the friction intoxicating, dizzying.
“Does Seongje take care of you like this?” Suho drawls, punctuating the words with another slow grind of his hips. “I wonder what other sounds he pulls from you, Sieun-ah.”
Sieun whimpered, actually whimpered, his entire body trembling beneath Suho’s relentless teasing.
Suho chuckled, pleased. “That’s not an answer.”
His hands moved, pushing Sieun’s shirt up, fingers trailing over his bare skin, teasing. Sieun shivered, panting, his head spinning, reduced to nothing but gasping breaths and desperate, involuntary moans.
It wasn’t enough.
“Get this off,” Sieun snapped, tugging at his own shirt, voice delirious with want.
Suho pulled back just enough to smirk down at him. “You’re so impatient, it’s cute.”
Sieun started to get up to remove his own shirt. He doesn’t have time for more teasing, or to be a part of Suho’s games anymore.
Suho laughed and pushed him backwards, and pulled off Sieun’s shirt in one fluid motion. He then does the same with his own. The sight of Suho stripping, all toned muscle and sharp lines, left his throat dry.
But he didn’t have time to stare. Suho’s mouth was on him again, this time more demanding. Sieun’s hands goes straight to Suho’s body, roaming greedily, mapping the broad expanse of Suho’s chest, fingers ghosting over the defined ridges of his abs before sliding down to his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath his touch.
Suho groaned at that. His fingers then pull at Sieun’s hair again, tugging his head backwards to expose his throat, and proceeds to devour his neck. Suho licked a slow, deliberate stripe up the sensitive skin before sucking, making Sieun gasp, hips jerking up on instinct.
“Don’t leave a mark,” Sieun managed between moans and shallow breaths.
This time, Sieun doesn't miss the way irritation colors Suho’s face, so he tries to amend, “...Not anywhere that can be easily seen.” For a moment, he thought Suho would pull away. But then something like satisfaction flickered in Suho’s eyes, and he gave a low hum of approval before dipping back down, kissing every inch of Sieun’s neck, now with a purpose.
Sieun can never really say no to Suho, he doesn’t know what that says about him.
The heat of Suho’s mouth traveled down his collarbone, his sternum, until he was right over his chest, lips ghosting over sensitive skin.
Sieun then felt himself gasp the moment Suho’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, the pressure just perfect, rolling the buds on his fingertips with the right touch.
“Oh, fuck–”
Suho chuckled against his chest, the vibration of it sending sparks straight through Sieun’s cock. “Sensitive?”
Sieun barely had time to glare at him before Suho moved and flicked his tongue over one nipple, slow yet playful. Sieun let out a strangled moan, head tilting back against the couch as his body burned.
Suho didn’t stop there. He licked over the bud again, teasing, before wrapping his lips around it completely and sucked. Hard.
A full-body shudder wracked through Sieun, pleasure spiking so intensely it made his toes curl. His hips jerked up in search of friction, only to be met with the frustratingly solid heat of Suho’s torso.
“Need—” He was breathless, delirious with how good it felt. “Need you… S-Suho, please.”
Suho pulled off his nipple with a wet pop, smirking as he flicked his thumb over the now overly sensitive bud. “Tsk. Be patient, baby.”
Sieun whimpered at the endearment, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. But then Suho switched sides, laving attention to his other nipple, his tongue flicking, circling, sucking, until Sieun was gasping, moaning, writhing beneath him.
“Fuck, Suho–”
“That’s it.” Suho whispers. “Say my name.”
Things started to happen one after another, quick and frantic, difficult to follow. One moment Suho had his hands lifting one of Sieun’s legs, and then them rutting against each other, their cocks grinding together with only four layers of fabric in between. Their lips clashed in an open mouthed kiss, breaths mingling, as their hips meet in the middle in a desperate rhythm. Loud moans echoed in the living room. It was so good, it was too much, but also not enough all at the same time.
Then Suho says, all playfulness and composure gone, “Shit, I need to– come on, let me just—”
Sieun doesn’t know what’s happening anymore, until he feels the cold air hitting his bare legs. Suho had stripped them both in a matter of seconds, their pants tossed aside, their hard cocks springing free, flushed and leaking against their stomachs.
The sheer need in the air made Sieun dizzy, arousal buzzing through his veins like liquid fire. He reached for Suho, ready to pull him closer, only to suddenly feel his world tilt.
Suho grabbed his hips, lifted him effortlessly, actually fucking lifted him, and then dropped him right onto his lap.
The movement directly forced Sieun’s crotch flush against Suho’s. And the position is so perfect, and so so hot that it made Sieun visibly shudder. He gasped, curled in on himself and hooks his arms around Suho’s neck. Suho once again grabs his hips firmly, pulling him back just enough before rolling his hips forward, dragging their lengths together in a slick, maddening slide.
The contact sent a bolt of pleasure through Sieun’s spine, his head tipping back as a wrecked moan escaped him, eyes slipping shut.
Their cocks rubbed together again, sensitive and so wet, and for a moment, Sieun’s mind blanked completely.
Sieun pictures Suho and the way he lifted him so easily. God, Suho could carry him to bed, Sieun could wrap his legs around Suho’s waist and Suho could still hoist him up. Suho could easily shove him against the mattress, against the wall, even, hold him down, hand imprints on Sieun’s waist, and just fuck into Sieun relentlessly. The image was too hot it had Sieun burying his face into Suho’s neck, his hips moving in tiny circles, whimpering and licking Suho’s sweat.
“Oh, fuck–” Suho breathes, pulling Sieun's hair backwards and surges for a kiss, mouth nibbling at Sieun’s lower lip. “Sieun-ah, you’re so– fuck—”
Sieun tried to respond, but he could only utter a moan. Instead, he just presses himself harder against Suho, creating the most incredible pressure between their cocks. He gasps loudly into Suho’s open mouth, feeling his senses overtaken by pleasure. It felt like molasses in his veins, dripping and sweet, his entire being suddenly aware of the incoming orgasm. “S-Suho, I think I—”
All of a sudden, all the sensations on his cock were gone, leaving Sieun reeling from the loss. A dazed whimper slipped from his lips as he forced his eyes open, vision hazy with arousal.
Suho was still in front of him, but something was different. It took Sieun a second to register the change. His arms were still hooked around Suho’s neck, but they were no longer on the couch.
They were standing.
Suho had lifted him effortlessly, one strong hand gripping Sieun’s bare ass, adjusting his weight as if he weighed nothing. The other hand guided Sieun’s leg to wrap around his waist, pulling him in close that he could feel Suho’s heated skin, but not enough that he’s being careful not to touch Sieun’s erection.
Holy shit. This was exactly the image that had flashed through his mind just seconds ago.
He sucked in a sharp breath, legs tightening around Suho’s waist unconsciously.
Suho started to move without a word. And he’s heading straight to his bedroom.
He’s heading straight to his bedroom.
Sieun felt himself blush. The implication of more sent a new lick of arousal through his entire body. He ducks his head as Suho walks the two of them towards the bed, his grip on Suho’s neck tightening as he pushes his front flush against Suho, needing something, anything, to relieve the pressure off his dick. Suho stares at him disapprovingly, and fucking tuts at him.
Then finally– finally— they reached the bedroom, only Sieun’s shallow and uneven breathing can be heard. Suho kicks the door shut behind them, and unceremoniously dumped Sieun on the bed. His limbs hadn't even adjusted before Suho followed on top of him.
Strong hands immediately gripped Sieun’s inner thighs, and spread his legs wide open. Suho unabashedly stares at Sieun’s leaking cock, not even trying to hide the hunger in his eyes.
Shame should have crept in, should have made him close his legs, but all he could do was lie there, panting, trembling under the weight of Suho’s gaze. He thinks he should be thinking of something else, something rational. Probably doubt. Probably guilt. But Sieun’s mind is too foggy with arousal, the haze of alcohol making it impossible to think straight.
Suho was drinking him in, eyes dark and filled with something primal, something possessive.
Sieun’s voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“Are you just going to stare?”
Suho’s eyes instantly glinted with amusement, and then he moved. For a second, Sieun pushed himself up, eager to meet Suho’s mouth in another kiss, but Suho had other plans.
Suho ducks his head, and before Sieun could protest, a warm hand wrapped around the tip of his cock. Suho pressed against the bead of precome gathered there, and smeared it up and down Sieun’s length.
Sieun’s hips jolted involuntarily, a sharp moan tearing from his throat as his back hit the mattress. He thinks that was it, because it’s so fucking good already, Suho’s hands are so fucking good on him.
But then—
He felt something wet and warm slowly sinking down his length. Sieun forces his eyes open. What he sees nearly sends him over the edge.
Suho was staring right at him, his lips stretched around Sieun’s cock.
Suho pulls off with an obscene pop, breathing heavily through his nose before dipping back in. His tongue traced a flat stripe from the base of Sieun’s cock to the tip. Then, he hardens the tip of his tongue pressed against his slit. The sensation combined with the image of Suho between his legs, eyes dark with intent, had Sieun losing his mind.
He didn’t realize his eyes had fallen shut until Suho’s movement completely stopped.
“Eyes on me, Sieun-ah.” Suho’s voice was low, demanding, leaving no room for argument.
Sieun’s eyes snapped open, hazy with arousal, meeting Suho’s gaze. The moment their eyes locked, Suho moved again, his hand gliding upward just as his mouth descended, meeting in the middle in a seamless rhythm that sent pleasure bubbling deep in Sieun’s stomach.
Then, Suho let go. His hand sliding away as he took Sieun’s entire length into his mouth. Sieun almost crumples the moment the tip of his cock grazed the back of Suho’s throat. Jesus Christ. The sudden heat, the tight pull of suction, had Sieun choking on a moan, his fingers scrambling for purchase against the sheets. His vision blurred at the edges, body taut with pleasure so sharp it bordered on unbearable.
Suho, not wasting any second, dragged his tongue along every sensitive vein, taking Sieun deeper, only pulling away to flick his tongue at the tip of his cock. His hands wandered, trailing down the back of Sieun’s thighs, one hand gripping his ass firmly to part one asscheek, while the other drifted further, fingers teasing, just barely brushing against Sieun’s hole, where Sieun was already throbbing.
“Ah— God— Suho—”
Everything’s so hazy, and Suho moves like he’s taking everything he can.
Sieun registers Suho repeatedly teasing his hole, pressing but never quite pushing in, one finger circling around the tight muscle. It made Sieun’s vision blurry. His body is also instinctively reacting to the touch, but he wasn’t sure which way to move— whether to chase the warmth of Suho’s mouth, or to press down on that finger.
The combined feeling of Suho’s finger on his entrance and his wet hot mouth and his thrashing tongue around Sieun’s dick brings him so so close to the edge. He cries out, loud and unrestrained. He doesn’t care if he’s making too much noise, soft ah ah s being ripped out of him as Suho continues. Suho, eyes still on him, takes Sieun’s cock deeper, sucks, doesn’t even slow down.
“Wait— Suho, I– I’m gonna—” And then, Suho hollows his cheeks even more, sucks harder, and finally— finally— breaches Sieun’s asshole with a finger. He finishes his sentence with a scream, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He never felt anything like this before.
Sieun comes. Body spasming under Suho’s touch, entire body covered in goosebumps, pleasure spreading from his toes all the way to the top of his head, licking him from inside out.
It was fucking phenomenal.
Suho sucks him even more through the aftershocks. And he shudders from the overstimulation, body twitching as he weakly pushes Suho away. Suho removes his mouth from Sieun’s spent cock, a thin trail of semen running down his chin.
Suho sits back on his heels in front of Sieun, and only then does Sieun notice Suho’s equally wet limp cock.
“You…? Did you—?” Sieun asks.
Suho merely grinned, following Sieun’s gaze down to himself before offering a careless shrug. “You looked so fucking hot thrashing under me like that. Moaning my name. I couldn’t help myself.”
Sieun reddens, tries for a retort back but all that came out was a strangled sound. Suho just continued to stare, looking too smug and pleased.
Before he could gather his thoughts, Suho was already pushing himself up from the bed. "I’m gonna wash up, wait here." he said, stretching briefly before making his way toward the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Sieun alone.
And only then did everything crash down on him.
The fog in his head cleared in an instant, leaving nothing but stark clarity in its place. The weight of what just happened pressed down heavily on his chest, His chest started to pound, and not from arousal anymore. Something heavier, something sickening.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
His mind turns, rewinding every moment of the last two hours. The alcohol, Suho’s mouth on him, them grinding like a bunch of teenagers on the couch, Suho lifting him towards the bedroom. His raw voice, his moans. The way Suho had—
Oh god.
Seongje.
Seongje.
Sieun sat up too fast, his head spinning.
Coming to Suho’s apartment on the night of his and Seongje’s second anniversary was the first mistake. He should have gone home. He should have turned around the second he felt the air between them shift. But this? Letting Suho touch him, devour him, ruin him in ways no one else ever had? That was an entirely different level of mistake.
A mistake they couldn't take back.
His fingers gripped the sheets like they could somehow ground him, like they could somehow rewind time. He tried to stand, he needed to leave Suho’s apartment now. But his legs trembled, still shaking from the aftermath. It made him nauseous.
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing brought him back.
Suho.
“Suho.” Sieun faces him, fingers tightening around the blanket he’s hastily pulled to cover himself.
Suho walks towards him, already dressed in his boxers, towel in hand, looking infuriatingly composed, like this was nothing more than an indulgence, something casual. Maybe, for him, it was. It shouldn’t surprise Sieun. Because Suho never really did relationships. Not once in the six years they’ve been friends.
But this is Suho, he should've known better, right? He should have. He should have never let things get this far with Sieun, his best friend. Because he had been the one to push Sieun’s buttons, he had been the one to provoke him, to break that final line of boundary.
And yet—
Deep down, Sieun knows it’s entirely his fault, shame tight in his chest. This was on him, Suho had not forced him to stay. And he was the one who kissed Suho. The kiss that started it all.
But right now, he’s too upset not to pin some of the blame on someone else.
Suho doesn’t move, just watches him, and the way he’s looking at him is so sharp and assessing. Sieun feels like he already knows what’s running in Sieun’s mind, it’s unsettling.
Suho leans against the dresser, arms folded, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement. "You know," he muses, tilting his head, "I knew you’d react like this."
"Like what?" Sieun's eyes narrow at that.
“Like you just committed some unforgivable sin.”
“That’s exactly what we did.”
“You’re overreacting.”
Sieun looks at him incredulously. “Are you being serious right now?”
Suho’s gaze roams across Sieun’s face. Then, softer, he adds, "Look, I get it. You’re mad.”
Sieun exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "Mad?" He lets out a dry laugh. "Of course I’m mad, Suho. This is— What we did—”
“Yeah?” Suho prompts, taking a step forward. “Go on. Say it.”
“This– It was a mistake. I told you before we— before— that me being here tonight doesn’t mean anything.” Sieun’s jaw clenches.
“Was it, though? A mistake?” Suho hums, unconvinced. His voice is smooth, tone back to teasing. “Because just a little while ago, you were coming undone on my fingers.” His voice drops, quiet but heavy. "Begging for more."
Heat flares up Sieun’s neck, shame thick in his throat.
Suho chuckles, stepping closer. “Did you hate it?”
Sieun tries to take a step away from Suho, but Sieun’s back hits the dresser, effectively trapping him. “This is not funny, Suho.”
“I’m not being funny.” Suho stops directly in front of him, hands reaching out and fleeting across Sieun’s hand. “Did you hate it? Because from where I was kneeling-–” He leans in slightly, “it looked like you loved it.” His fingers start trailing slowly up Sieun’s arm. “Or was it that you hated how good it felt? Hated that you let me touch you like that?”
Sieun jerks his arm away, pulse thrumming. " No. This is— This is—"
“A mistake?” Suho supplies. “Maybe.”
Sieun swallows hard, turning his face away.
“But it didn’t feel wrong, right?”
“Stop.”
“Did you hate that it felt better with me,” Suho presses, ignoring Sieun, and delivers the final blow. “Better than it was with Seongje?”
Sieun freezes, breath stuttering to a complete stop. He forced his face to not show any kind of expression, not wanting to indulge Suho. But knowing him, he’d probably already seen through the cracks.
Suho chuckles, and finally steps away, eyes still gleaming with mischief. “Relax, Sieun.” He gestures between them. “This could be our dirty little secret.”
“What?”
“We already have secrets between us.” He straightens, slinging the towel over his shoulder. “What’s one more, hm?”
Sieun stills, eyes following Suho move around the room. “This isn’t the same.”
"Isn’t it?" Suho raises a brow. "No one has to know. Not Seongje. Not anyone." His face is annoyingly calm, except for a teasing smile on his lips. “You could always come to me, you know.” He licks his lips, voice quiet. “If things get too hard with Seongje. If you need a release. If you just want to feel good again."
Sieun grits his teeth. He’s always known how to handle every side of Suho. His teasing, his shamelessness, his clinginess. But tonight, for some reason, all of it feels different. Sieun’s unraveling too easily, flustered in a way that makes him feel weak. He hates it. “Suho. Stop talking.”
“Okay.” He smiles, and then fucking winks at him. And then he adds with a knowing smile. “But you didn’t say no.”
Sieun swears under his breath, exhaling sharply, trying to settle the storm in his chest. "Promise me."
"Hm? Promise you what?"
"That you won’t tell anyone about this." Sieun’s voice is raw, almost pleading, but firm despite the lingering fear at the back of his mind.
Suho pauses, and watches his face. Then, his expression softens, fond, gentle in a way that’s familiar. The same old look he gives Sieun when it’s just the two of them. It makes Sieun’s chest ache for some reason. “Of course. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Before Sieun could respond, Suho turns away, running a hand through his hair as if shaking off some weight, signaling the end of their conversation for now.
Suho grabs the clothes from where they were tossed in the living room, and hands them over. “Go clean up.” Suho tells him, head pointing to the bathroom.
Sieun accepts the clothes without saying anything. He doesn’t even look at Suho’s direction at all, and heads for the bathroom. The warm water does little to clear his head. If anything, it only makes the memories sharper. The press of Suho’s hands on his body, his fingers teasing him, the heat of his mouth, the taste of his lips, the way he had unraveled him so effortlessly. Sieun squeezes his eyes shut, willing the sensations away, but they cling to him stubbornly.
His grip tightens around the sink as he stares at his reflection, his own face betraying everything he refuses to acknowledge.
By the time he steps out, Suho is back on the bed, freshly dressed in a loose shirt, his posture relaxed like nothing ever happened.
"You’re free to stay the night," Suho says, stretching with an easy grin. “Like you usually do.”
The casualness of it, the way Suho slips so effortlessly back into being him , makes Sieun hesitate. They should talk about it— really talk about it— but he’s exhausted. And more than anything, he needs to call Seongje.
He glances at Suho, who’s watching him without any pressure, just waiting. It should feel reassuring. But it only reminds Sieun that things have changed. No matter how much he doesn’t want them to.
"I can’t," Sieun says finally, tugging on his clothes. His voice is steady, but there’s a distance to it.
Suho studies him for a beat, then dramatically places a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “Ouch. So that’s it, huh? Not even a goodbye kiss? Feels like a random hookup. Bet you won’t even call me after this.”
Sieun scoffs, shoving his foot into his shoe a little too aggressively. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous?” Suho gasps. “And yet, here you are, running off like I’m just some guy you just met at a bar.” He laughs. “No cuddles, no thank you? Is this how you treat your bestfriend?!”
Sieun scowls, exasperated. “You’re so dramatic, Suho.”
“Oh, so you do still know my name. Could’ve fooled me.”
Sieun exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yet a smile started to form on his lips. “You’re insufferable.”
“Mmmh, but you love me.”
Sieun grabs a pillow and throws it at him. Suho howls as it hits him square in the chest, catching it effortlessly before tossing it back onto the bed. The banter is familiar, effortless. Like it’s them.
For a moment, it almost feels normal.
Sieun shifts at the bedroom door, hand on the knob. He needs to leave now, because if he doesn’t, he’ll have to acknowledge it. The heat still clinging to his skin, the way his body hums with the memory of Suho’s hands, his mouth, his breath. It’s still there, lingering like an imprint burned into him.
He tells himself it’s just the heat of the moment clinging to him. Just residual arousal and exhaustion, nothing more. If he leaves now, if he puts enough distance between them, it’ll fade. It has to.
“See you later,” he says, forcing the words out casually. He keeps his eyes forward, afraid that if he turns back, if he meets Suho’s gaze, the resolve he’s holding onto will slip right through his fingers.
“Yeah. Later.” Suho mumbles, and right before the door shuts behind Sieun, he quickly adds, “Tell Seongje happy anniversary.”
There’s something underneath his voice, something Sieun can’t quite place. Maybe he’s just imagining it. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Him and Suho will talk, and it’ll be that.
Because at the end of the day, they’re just friends. They’ve always been just friends.
And he has Seongje.
And Sieun has to fix what he has with his boyfriend.
That’s all that should matter.