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It was supposed to be just another dumb party game.
The music thumped through the too-small living room, cups sloshed with flat soda and lukewarm beer, and someone had just shouted, "Come on, let's play 7 Minutes in Heaven!" like it was still the ninth grade. Suho rolled his eyes from where he leaned against the kitchen counter, but he didn’t protest. Let them be ridiculous. He was used to it.
What he wasn’t used to was hearing his name paired with him.
"Suho and... Sieun?"
Laughter rippled through the room. Not good-natured, not innocent. The kind of laughter that stung if you let it. Suho stiffened.
Sieun sat curled into the corner of the couch, textbook still balanced on hia lap like he hadn’t realized this was a party and not a library. He blinked once, twice, his expression unreadable under the overhead lights, and Suho felt something cold twist in his chest.
They were doing this to mess with him. To embarrass him. The quiet boywho never spoke unless called on, who always had perfect grades and never came to these things. And now here he was, a deer in headlights while everyone waited for the punchline.
Suho stepped forward slowly, voice low as he leaned toward him. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured, so no one else could hear. “Seriously. Screw them.”
But then— he surprised him.
“I’ll go,” he said, soft but steady. Sieun stood, smoothing down his pants with trembling fingers, not meeting anyone’s gaze as he moved toward the coat closet.
And maybe Suho should have stopped him. Maybe he should’ve said no. But honestly— maybe he didn’t want to.
Inside, it was dark and cramped, smelling faintly of detergent and old wool. Suho let the door click shut behind them, the party noise muffled to a dull throb.
“You really don’t have to do anything,” he said again. “We can just sit here till the timer’s up.”
But then he looked at him.
Sieun wasn’t saying anything, just standing there, eyes wide in the dark, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His fingers were twitching against the hem of his hoodie, fidgety and nervous, but his gaze flicked up to his mouth and back down again.
And that’s when it hit him.
Sieun wanted to.
He wanted to kiss Suho.
Suho’s breath caught. All the months he’d spent stealing glances at him in class, pretending not to care, pretending he didn’t notice the way he smiled when he thought no one was looking… this might be his only chance.
“Sieun,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, “are you sure?”
He nodded.
And Suho’s heart— usually so smooth, so practiced— stuttered for the first time in a long, long while.
This can’t be real.
Suho’s heart thudded in his chest, way too loud for how calm he was pretending to be. He’d had flings. He knew how to play the game. But this wasn’t that.
Sieun was standing just a foot away, close enough that Suho could feel the warmth coming off him in the narrow dark. Close enough that it would only take one step. One tilt of the head. One breath.
He wants this.
That thought had latched onto Suho’s brain like a live wire, and it wouldn’t let go. He wants this. He wants me.
And Suho… God, he had wanted this for so long.
He couldn’t remember when it started— maybe the first time he saw Sieun scowl at a wrong answer in class, or the way he always offered a polite nod when their eyes met in the hallway, never more. Like Suho didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t impressed.
It had pissed him off. Then it intrigued him. Then it stuck.
And now, here he was. In a closet with the one person who’d never given him the time of day. And Sieun was looking at him like he mattered. Like he wanted him.
“Okay,” Suho breathed, almost to himself.
He stepped forward, slow and careful like Sieun might vanish if he moved too fast. Their hands brushed. Neither of them pulled back.
“Tell me to stop,” Suho whispered, eyes searching his face, voice barely holding steady. “Just say it.”
But Sieun didn’t.
He looked up, cheeks flushed, breath shallow, and whispered, “I won’t.”
That was it.
Suho leaned in, heart climbing into his throat. His hand reached up, fingers trembling as they brushed Sieun’s jaw— tentative, reverent. He didn’t dive in. He hovered, barely there, giving Sieun time to change his mind.
But then Sieun leaned into him, and their lips met.
It was soft. Slower than any kiss Suho had ever had. It wasn’t about proving anything. It wasn’t for show. It was careful. Hesitant. Real.
And when Sieun’s fingers curled lightly into the fabric of Suho’s sleeve, holding on— not to pull him closer, not to take control, just holding on— Suho felt something in him unravel.
This isn’t a game, he realized. Not to me.
The kiss was soft at first. Suho was careful, almost too careful. His thumb brushed Sieun’s cheek, and he tilted his head just enough to deepen it slightly, testing the waters. He expected it to stay like that— gentle and fleeting, like Sieun might pull back at any second.
But then Sieun’s hand fisted in the front of Suho’s shirt.
It wasn’t rough, wasn’t aggressive, just sudden. Like something in him cracked open all at once. One moment he was hesitating, and the next, he was pulling Suho in by the collar, kissing him harder.
Suho made a quiet noise of surprise, muffled by Sieun’s mouth. His balance nearly gave out from the shift, hand slapping against the wall behind Sieun to steady himself.
Holy shit.
Sieun’s other hand found his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of Suho's shirt like he didn’t even realize he was doing it— like he needed to hold on. There was nothing shy about the way he moved now. Still nervous, maybe. Still shaking a little. But hungry. Like he'd been holding this in, too.
Suho melted into it before he could stop himself.
One hand cradled the back of Sieun’s neck, the other gripped his hip, pulling him closer. Their mouths moved together like they'd been doing this for years. Suho parted his lips just slightly, and when Sieun followed without hesitation, he nearly lost it.
The world outside the closet might as well have stopped existing.
All the teasing, all the stupid party laughter, all the times Suho thought Sieun didn’t even see him, it all felt like a joke now. Because here he was, pinned between a closet wall and a boy who kissed like he meant it , like he’d wanted this just as long, maybe even longer.
Sieun let out the faintest, breathy sound when Suho’s hand slid under the hem of his sweater, just fingertips brushing bare skin, and Suho swore he almost kissed him through the wall.
They finally broke apart for air, both breathing hard, lips red and swollen.
Suho blinked at him, dazed.
“…What was that?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Sieun looked up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, lips parted. Then, like he hadn’t just turned Suho’s world inside out, he said quietly, “I… I think I’ve liked you for a while.”
Suho just stared.
And then he laughed. Soft, breathless, stunned.
“God,” he muttered, brushing his forehead against Sieun’s. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
Suho didn’t know who leaned in first the second time. Maybe it was both of them, at once, but the kiss picked up again with none of the earlier hesitation.
It was messier now. Deeper. Their breathing tangled together, uneven and hot. Suho pressed Sieun gently back against the wall, one hand braced beside his head, the other gripping his waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. Sieun gasped softly against his mouth when Suho shifted closer, the space between them disappearing completely.
Then Sieun moved.
His hips tilted up, just slightly, and brushed against Suho’s. The contact was brief, barely even intentional, but Suho felt it. His breath hitched, and he froze for half a second.
Then Sieun did it again.
This time, there was no mistaking it. Slow, tentative, but purposeful. His hand had slid under Suho’s shirt now, resting at the small of his back, and his fingers curled into him as he moved again, grinding against him in slow, unsure waves that felt like they were setting Suho’s nerves on fire.
“Sieun…” Suho whispered, half a warning, half a plea.
But Sieun didn’t stop.
There was nothing practiced about it. Nothing smooth or strategic. Just want. Raw and clumsy and real. Suho was used to making out in backseats and hallways, hands wandering while minds stayed elsewhere. But this— this— was different. This was the boy who sat in the second row and never spoke unless spoken to, pushing up into him with flushed cheeks and breathless, quiet gasps like he’d been starving for this.
And Suho— God— he wanted to give it to him.
He rocked forward, matching the rhythm, swallowing the noise Sieun made when their hips aligned just right. His fingers tangled in Sieun’s hair, gently tugging, mouth never leaving his. The heat built quickly, urgent and dizzying. Suho barely noticed the closet walls anymore. Only him.
And then—
A knock. Loud. Abrupt.
“Time’s up!”
The door rattled.
Sieun flinched, and Suho cursed softly under his breath, forehead dropping to Sieun’s shoulder as they both tried to pull themselves together. They were still breathing hard, flushed and wrecked and totally not ready to face the room waiting outside.
Sieun’s hand tugged at the hem of Suho’s shirt, not pulling him closer this time, just holding it. A subtle, reluctant gesture that made Suho look at him.
His eyes were still glassy, lips swollen, but he looked… conflicted. Like there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t.
And Suho somehow… understood.
He nodded slightly. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered, voice gentler than he’d meant it to be. “I got you.”
Is this really Sieun? he found himself thinking as he stepped back to give them space. This wasn’t the shy honor student with the buttoned-up shirts and barely-there presence. This was someone bold. Wanting. Beautiful.
The door creaked open.
They stepped out, one after the other.
Silence.
The room had expected something awkward. Something laughable. But instead, they were met with Sieun’s mouth, visibly pink and bitten, and Suho’s hair in disarray, one side of his hoodie collar tugged down like someone had clung to it.
No one said a word.
Sieun kept his gaze down as he returned to his seat like nothing had happened. Suho, for once, didn’t smirk or make a show of it. He just slid back into the crowd, jaw tight, chest still pounding.
They pretended nothing had happened.
But everyone knew .
And Suho…
He was still reeling.