Archive of Our Own

Cravity are notoriously a close-knit group. 

Despite the fact they are 9 people with very distinct personalities, some of which so antithetical that are bound to clash, they can confidently say they have grown very close as they faced the challenges of the idol industry together through the years.  

It is something born out of survival, at first. The knowledge you will share most of your awake moments with these people acts as a constant reminder that your life will be miserable if you cannot find a way to co-exist. 

They had managed to take it one step further and actually form a genuine bond between them, a new concept of family they are able to rely on when their actual ones are too far out of reach.  

Of course, some people had grown closer than others. With groups as big as theirs, it was inevitable for more compatible personalities to click in different ways to others, which had created a pretty good balance in the group. It was comfortable. 

Hyeongjun and Minhee have shared so much together that their bond had been stronger from the start, living on the line between a brotherly bond and something else that neither of them was ready to face just yet.  

Serim has always kept Allen quite close, feeling the responsibilities of a leader to make sure he would have someone to rely on in a country so far away from his own.  

Wonjin, on the other hand, has always had his Jungmo-Hyung. Someone he’s comfortable with despite the age difference, someone who doesn’t get annoyed when he pretends to be bothered by his ways of looking out for him, and continues to do so.  

It wasn’t a secret to anyone around them, that they were close. 

However, as Wonjin stands in the middle of the Idol Radio studio with a stick of Pepero carefully placed between his lips, he wonders if they have ever been this close. 

Sure, Wonjin was used to skinship with his members, and he didn’t pretend to hate a sneaky hug from Seongmin, or when they held hands to encourage each other during music broadcasts. He was also very familiar with Jungmo’s forms of skinship with him, and despite pretending to push his hand away whenever he tried to hug him from behind or grab his waist, he never really minded the contact.  

As Jungmo takes a few more steps towards him now, though, he thinks there is something different about this entirely. He tries to blame it on the embarrassment of it all, having to do this on camera in front of the entire staff at the radio station, but he has never been too camera shy before.  

No, it’s something else. This type of closeness is new, and it makes Wonjin feel weird.  

He makes eye contact with Jungmo briefly, but he feels restless as their eyes meet. He closes his eyes, ignoring the thought at the back of his mind that wonders what it will look like from the viewer’s perspective as their faces get closer and he’s closed his eyes just waiting for Jungmo’s lips to approach. He is too preoccupied with keeping it together now to worry about later. 

It all happens really fast after that. The press of Jungmo’s hand on his neck, the brushing of fingers against his ear, a press of a thumb against his lips. With each movement, his body responds with something he has not felt before. He feels like he’s made of electricity and as light as a feather at the same time.  

Jungmo turns his back to him before he can catch the expression on his face, so Wonjin tries to ground himself and come back to reality. The broadcast is far from over, and his internal turmoil will need to be paused to be resumed when he’s far away from prying eyes. 

Not that anything has happened, anyway. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Wonjin is good at pretending that everything is fine, so when he gets back to the dorm after the broadcast he has a perfectly fine shower, orders a completely fine dinner and watches an absolutely fine episode of that show he started watching on the plane back from Japan last month. Everything is just fine, except for the fact that he still feels the lingering sensation of Jungmo’s hand on his cheek. 

It’s probably fine, but if it’s not, he thinks it’s stupid, really. 

Why is he focusing so much on something that he was sure has happened many times before? He had felt Jungmo’s fingers against his skin before, many times at that. Sure, he had never felt Jungmo’s breath on his face, their noses only millimetres apart...  

He presses a hand to his abdomen, thinking that maybe the kimchi jjigae he ordered isn't sitting quite right on his stomach. Nothing to do with Jungmo at all. He presses hard on the pressure point between his thumb and index finger in an attempt to relieve indigestion, in hope that it also reboots the part of his brain that can’t stop thinking about the Pepero game.  

After much deliberation and tossing and turning for an hour in an attempt to fall asleep, he reaches the conclusion that it's a perfectly normal and human response. Any living, breathing human would have felt a little flustered by the unfamiliar closeness, even if it’s with a familiar person. He is sure he can find an article explaining the chemical reactions in his brain if he looks it up. 

He reaches for his phone on the night stand, surrendering to the fact his brain is not ready to shut down yet, with every intention to find a scientifical explanation to what other people – not him – could describe as butterflies, but his finger lingers a second too long on the Twitter icon instead, a thought appearing at the forefront of his mind. 

There is something better than scientifical proof in this case, and it’s cold hard evidence caught on camera. That is what he needs, to look at the situation with the perspective of an external party, instead of one of the people involved. Sure, it’s normal for his brain to respond a certain way in an unfamiliar situation, but looking at it from the viewer’s perspective will clear up the weird fog in his brain and will let him move on from this. 

He searches his name in the search bar, something he normally does anyway, to keep up with what Luvity are saying about them. He smiles at a few tweets saying he looked handsome in a white shirt, and that his red hair really suit him, and he lets himself get distracted from his original intentions for a few minutes, until he finds himself facing pictures of the Pepero game. He tries to ignore the feeling at the pit of his stomach as he keeps scrolling, but the more he scrolls, the more his entire feed is full of pictures of him and Jungmo only centimetres apart, from every possible angle known to men.  

His finger hovers over the video for a few seconds before pressing on it. This is what he needs, unbiased hard truth. He clicks. 

The moment plays on his small screen, filling in the blanks that his shut-eyes have hidden from him. What has registered in his brain as only a sensation can now be related to a clear image.  

The tickling of his skin where Jungmo had brushed his finger against his ear is now matched with the image of long fingers carefully resting on his red hair, milky white against fiery red. 

The feeling of Jungmo's shaky breath hitting his cheek is now embellished with the small, shy smile that he makes as their lips get too close for comfort.  

The pressure against his lips comes to life with the image of Jungmo’s finger pressing against them. 

Wonjin watches the video an embarrassing amount of times, his face inching closer to the screen with each time it plays. 

With each replay, he focuses on something he hasn’t noticed before. Jungmo’s fake confident smirk as he takes off his headset that slowly turns into a timid smile; his eyes quietly moving between Wonjin’s face and the stick; his nose pressing into Wonjin’s cheek before he moves away.  

With every new detail his brain decides to retain, Wonjin’s stomach feels heavier. Turns out, the external viewer theory doesn’t work quite well if you are still one of the two people involved.  

He needs truly unbiased, non-playing characters to be the voice of reason. He starts scrolling through the comments below the video in the hope that he will find his lost ratio in the words of Luvitys.  

He feels slightly relieved as the few first comments focus on making fun of the situation, saying how awkward they must have felt. He nods to himself, silently agreeing, until his attention shifts to a comment below.  

“With Jungmo’s finger like that, it looks like they are kissing for real.” 

His heart skips a beat.  

He stares down at the picture one more time, his brain uselessly supplying the feeling of Jungmo’s finger pressing on his lips, as the words written above sneak into his brain and turn into a very specific thought.  

What would Jungmo’s lips on his feel like? 

He throws his phone to the other side of the bed, startled by his own thought. 

What is wrong with him? Why would he even think of that? 

He covers his head with the duvet, an attempt to lull himself to sleep or suffocate himself, he’s not quite sure of that yet.  

Tiredness ultimately wins over the thought of lips inching closer, and he falls asleep with his head under the blanket. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Wonjin walks into the practice room with bags under his eyes, the 3 hours of sleep he managed to get on display for everyone to see. 

He drops his bag at the back of the studio, where the few members who arrived already have left their own ones.  

“What happened to you?” 

Hyeongjun isn’t the king of subtlety, making everyone in the room turn to look at his sleep-deprived face. Wonjin brushes it off as he joins Minhee on the ground and begins to stretch. 

“Just didn’t sleep very well.” 

He hopes they leave it at that, but it could never be that simple. He feels the press of a knee against his back, and when he lifts his head up to look in the mirror, he sees Jungmo standing right behind him.  

Wonjin almost feels ticked off at the fact his face looks perfect, as usual. His skin is smooth and glowy, and there are no dark circles sitting under his bright cat-like eyes. 

His own thoughts startle him. Has he ever paid so much attention to the way Jungmo looks before?  

“You stopped replying quite early, I thought you had fallen asleep.” 

Wonjin feels a small blush creeping up to his cheek, so he bends down to stretch his hamstrings, hiding his face in the process. Rationally, he knows there is no way for Jungmo to know that he had stopped replying to his messages because he was too busy replying the video of their Pepero challenge in loop for three hours, but he is scared the truth will somehow sit on his face for him to read, as transparent as his lack of sleep. 

“I did. I just woke up a lot.” 

He mumbles to himself as he stretches, and Jungmo seems to give up quite easily. He smiles at him with a small nod, and then walks over to the back of the room, where he drops his own bag on the floor, before he can go back and join the stretching exercises.  

He sits next to Wonjin, far enough to stretch his extremely long legs out to the side, but close enough that it makes Wonjin’s stomach feel strange again.  

Jungmo bends to the side as he stretches his leg out, preparing himself for a long session of dance practice ahead of them. Wonjin follows his movement through the mirror, forgetting about his own exercise for a minute, his eyes focusing on the long fingers stretched out against his leg. The same thumb he had pressed against his lips, the same fingers that had brushed his hair. Jungmo brings his hand to the side of his head to stretch the side of his neck, and as if he is hypnotised, Wonjin follows.  

He traces each slender digit with his eyes, as he starts wondering. If their roles had been reversed, and he was the one inching closer to him as he waits, would he have pressed his hand to the side of his neck, or maybe caressed the shape of his sharp jaw with his finger? Would he have placed his own finger between their lips, or would he have left it up to chance and secretly hoped that their lips would brush together as he tried to break the Pepero stick as small as possible? 

“Earth to Wonjin.” 

Two big hands slam against his shoulder blades, as he is brought back to reality with the force of a car crash. He turns to find Taeyoung looking at him with curious eyes, as he realises that everyone was standing up and ready to start practice. He gets up quickly, finding his place in the formation of the first choreography they are rehearsing. 

His eyes can’t help but look for Jungmo in the mirror, except this time, he finds his gaze is already staring back at Wonjin. The non-scientifical butterflies reappear just as the intro to Love or Die starts playing. 

♡⸝⸝ 

When he gets back to the dorm, Wonjin repeats the same routine as the day before. He showers, orders dinner, throws himself on his bed and puts on an episode as background noise, while he goes down the rabbit hole of Twitter.  

He finds the Pepero video again, and scrolls the replies a bit further than the day before. He doesn't quite know how it happens, but he ends up finding an account dedicated to him and Jungmo as a couple. He’s not unfamiliar with the concept of shipping, and the company has mentioned before that his dynamic with Jungmo is a fan-favourite among Luvitys, but he’s never felt the need to know what people say about their relationship until now. 

He scrolls through tweets about their Idol Radio appearance, zoomed in and cropped videos of Jungmo’s finger on his lips that make Wonjin’s skin tickle. With each tweet that pays attention to Wonjin's small reactions, he feels more and more exposed. He wishes that he could simply dismiss everything they were saying, but he feels unsure now.  

Does it really take this little to cross the line with one of your closest friends? Is a stupid game enough for feelings to change?  

If he’s being really honest with himself, he knows he’s always craved the closeness he and Jungmo have, but the few times he has allowed his brain to process this thought in the past, he had dismissed it as something normal for idols to experience. The members are the only people who can provide him with the affection he would get from a ‘normal’ relationship that he isn’t allowed to have, and as much as he liked to play the part of someone who gets annoyed by Jungmo’s constant attention, he relies on it more than he lets on. 

Something about now feels different, though. Like they had been dancing on top of a blurred line for so long, and they had accidentally ended up crossing it. 

As the thought of crossed lines forms in his head, his finger freezes over a tweet that threatens to put him so far across it, he can barely ever see the line again. He gets so startled by the thought that he locks his phone and throws it far away from him, focusing his attention – or faking to do so – on the screen of his laptop.  

He spends ten minutes fidgeting, as the words keep lingering at the back of his mind even as he tries his best to push them away, before giving up all sorts of rationality in favour of satisfying his curiosity.  

He unlocks his phone to find the tweet still open in front of him, and allows himself a few more seconds of hesitation before crossing the line.  

Pepero Game: Aftermath – What I think happened after – 3.1k words – Explicit 

The unfamiliar website loads, words filling the entire length of his screen. He thinks about closing it, still in time to let this be something only for the fans to enjoy, but the words tickle something in his brain. If right after the game, he had just moved on and gone back to his normal life without a second thought, he would have dismissed the implication that something could have happened; but here he is, spending every waking moment thinking about grazing fingers that should have grabbed, and inching lips that should have pressed.  

At the very least, this is going to bring him back to reality and give his brain the shock it needs to stop thinking about Jungmo as anything other than a close friend. One that he doesn’t want to kiss.  

He dives in, discovering something that was never meant for his eyes to see, as the retelling of the events of just two days before are embellished with imaginary feelings that the fan has attributed to them. They describe in detail what Wonjin can clearly see playing behind his eyes, after having replayed it so many times, while his chest rises a little faster as his finger scrolls down on the screen.  

The story progresses back at the dorm, quite like it has happened in real life. Wonjin showers and gets ready for bed, but a knock on his door stops him from tucking himself to sleep. Jungmo is there, with a look in his eyes that is described as sharp and demanding.  

It’s something that Wonjin doesn’t think he has seen before. He doesn’t even think Jungmo can be that, if he’s being honest with himself. Jungmo is soft and accommodating. That makes him feel better as he reads a version of Jungmo he doesn’t know, easier for it only to exist in an imaginary world far from the one he lives in.  

Imaginary-Jungmo grabs Imaginary-Wonjin by the waist, a feeling that he’s familiar with but has never made his skin crawl before. He pictures long fingers pressing into the skin above his hips, his face getting heated as he continues reading. His eyes can barely focus on the dialogue between the two characters as his eyes fall on a word a paragraph ahead, heat rising all the way up to his ears.  

They kiss.  

Lips press together and Wonjin feels his toes curling as he reads of Jungmo’s hands travelling all over his skin, marking areas of him that he has never touched in real life. It would be wise for Wonjin to stop now, a voice at the back of his head suggests, but it’s not loud enough and it gets drowned by the desire that pools in Wonjin’s stomach. 

His face is buried deep in the screen of his phone as Imaginary-Jungmo pushes him back on the bed and starts peeling off his clothes before taking care of his own. Wonjin wants Imaginary-Wonjin to reach out, touch every inch of Jungmo’s skin just to know how it feels. Just to know what Jungmo sounds like when his hands are on him. None of that happens, though, which makes Wonjin feel wronged. Is this what people call being misrepresented in media? 

His breath still catches in his lungs as the writer talks about Jungmo climbing on top of him, kissing unexplored parts of him, while his hands travel dangerously close to his crotch. He feels the ghost press of fingers on his dick, something that isn’t there, but he would like to be, when he hears a noise from the hallway that is close to his door and he sends his phone flying across the bed. He covers his mouth with one hand, trying to steady his breathing.  

A million questions start forming in his mind. What the fuck is he doing? Why is he reading about him and Jungmo like that? Is he hard? 

He removes the hand from his mouth, breath still unsteady, as he pulls back the covers from his body. The answer to the last question is painfully visible through his shorts, sending him down a whole new spiral of questions. Why did he think this was a good idea? Does he secretly want to kiss Jungmo, or worse? Do people really perceive him as a bottom?  

How the last question is relevant to his inner crisis, he’s not sure, but he feels like he needs to clear up the misunderstanding. Was he the only one to notice Jungmo’s shaking hand as he bit down on the biscuit, even if he tried to play it cool? It was cute, really. It made Wonjin want to see how far he could push him without breaking.  

Wonjin shakes his head harshly, trying to move his thoughts enough that they fall back in place. This is not what he should be focusing on right now, when he wasn’t even aware of the possibility he may be attracted to Jungmo that way.  

He was looking for a scientific explanation for all of this, cold hard facts to explain why he was still thinking about the possibility of kissing his best friend, and there it was – maybe not cold, but hard enough evidence that maybe he did.  

He thinks about taking care of it, but he immediately pushes the thought away. It would feel too inappropriate to touch himself now, knowing full well what caused the erection in the first place. 

He tries to convince himself that sleeping this off is the answer, sure that he will feel better in the morning after he has forgotten all about this, so he forces his eyes shut. 

Images of Jungmo’s fingers play like a movie behind his eyes, reaching, grabbing, digging, until tiredness pulls him under. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Turns out, going to sleep imagining your best friend all over you is not a great alternative to chamomile tea. Three hours of dance practice feel like three days, Wonjin’s body struggling to execute the moves his brain supplies.  

The only thing he successfully manages to do during the day is avoiding Jungmo. He tries not to be too obvious about it, knowing it will surely alert some of the members if he acts too out of character, but he’s able to blame his messed up sleep schedule and spend most of his break time napping on the sofa.  

Jungmo doesn’t notice, or if he does, he pretends not to and leaves him be.  

Worried he will fall right back in the routine he’s created for himself over the past couple of days, he decides his best option is to hide away in his studio and do a livestream for Luvitys. Delaying the inevitable, he thinks, and immediately pushes away the thought.  

This is the right strategy. Talking will distract him enough that he won’t have time to think about what the same fans he’s going to be entertaining are writing about him and Jungmo. Specifically, of Jungmo on top of his body. His stomach feels heavy all of a sudden, images flashing before his eyes. He shakes the thought away as he sets the camera up and checks his appearance on the screen. He looks like he hasn’t slept in three days, which he can’t say isn’t true. 

Time starts moving faster as he engages with questions, answering fans that ask for dinner recommendations or TMIs – he doesn’t mention the thoughts he’s been having, that would be way too much information. He gets lost in stories about trainee days or travelling abroad with the members. It seems to help, until his mind plays a trick on him and Jungmo still slips through the cracks of his mind, even if he’s tried so hard to keep him out of there.  

“When we went to Japan last time, I think I was sharing rooms with Jungmo-Hyung...” 

The sentence hangs midair as he startles himself at the mention of his name. He tries to push away images forming behind his eyes, as he thinks back to sharing space and hanging out, back when he wasn’t haunted by the thought he maybe wanted more.  

“And...uhm... He made me watch an anime at 2AM, but I fell asleep ten minutes in and only woke up when it was over, and this guy... he was fully awake and started talking to me about the episode so passionately. He’s cute, isn’t he?” 

He feels his cheeks burning, as something that he has said so naturally a million times before slips out of his mouth suddenly. He’s never been ashamed of calling Jungmo cute, but something about the images that have been filling his mind for the past few days make him feel like he’s doing something wrong.  

He tries to find a comment that will lead to a change in topic, but the chat is flooded with his name, not helping his mind move away from the thoughts plaguing his brain. A light knock on the door makes him sigh in relief, a stroke of luck that will free him from having his mind full of just Jungmo.  

Except, he’s not a very lucky man. The reason behind his internal turmoil opens the door and flashes a smile at him that could knock him out right there. If Wonjin has ever thought about kissing his lips while he smiles so brightly before this moment, he has probably squashed that thought away, burying it deep inside his mind like a dirty secret nobody would ever be able to uncover; but now, the secret is written in bright red letters right at the centre of his mind, and he hopes that he’s still a good enough actor not to let it spill out of his eyes for everyone to see. 

Jungmo, who’s unaware of the storm occupying all of Wonjin’s brain power, bends down enough to come into frame and wave to his fans. 

“I thought you would be going home early.” 

His attention turns to Wonjin, lips still smiling but eyes conveying some worry, there only for him to read. He hates to make him worry, so he just shrugs his shoulders with a small smile. He pretends he doesn’t know Jungmo will be equally able to spot the lie in his eyes. 

“I wanted to go live for a bit.” 

Jungmo can’t really question his answer while they’re live, afraid Luvitys might be upset if he tried to tell him he should stop talking to them and actually go to bed. Instead, he grabs a seat on the little stool Wonjin keeps in his studio for when someone comes in to work on songs with him.  

Wonjin wants to question why he’s joining the live without his consent, it would even play into the dynamic they portray in front of the cameras sometimes, so it wouldn’t be so weird to the fans if he did.  

He wants to tell him to leave, but he likes to see him there. He likes that he has come looking for him, worried he may be overworking himself. He likes that his eyes are soft as he studies his face to find traces of anything that could be wrong without needing to ask, cautious not to alarm him mindlessly. He likes the reassuring pressure of Jungmo’s knee pressing against his, a silent way to let him know he’s there, whatever he needs. 

And he hates that him liking all of this is the reason behind Jungmo’s silent worry.  

“Why are you still here? Practice ended ages ago.”  

Wonjin questions, partly to keep a normal pace going for their viewers and partly to satisfy his own curiosity.  

Jungmo’s ears tint red, his telltale sign giving him away before he even speaks. Just like a blaring alarm before a tsunami, Wonjin knows a lie is about to come out of his mouth. 

“I stayed back to practice more, I wasn’t happy with some of my dance lines.” 

Wonjin doesn’t call him out, even though he knows the real reason he’s still here. He lets him think he managed to fool him, as Jungmo moves on to a question he reads on the screen.  

“Oppa, do you remember watching anime with Wonjin in Japan and him falling asleep? Of course, I remember. It was such a good episode, but Wonjin was out cold in ten minutes. He was cute, sleeping on my shoulder and drooling.”  

Wonjin’s skin starts feeling warmer as Jungmo’s eyes lock to his when the word cute leaves his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to tell him something, responding to his earlier comment when he called him cute too. His eyes carry a weight he’s never seen before, like they’re begging for a truth that has been locked behind them to be unlocked. It makes Wonjin wonder what Jungmo was thinking that night, with the weight of his head pressed against his shoulder. Did he let his eyes linger a little too long? Did he think about kissing him too? 

The thought sends an electric shock down Wonjin’s spine that almost makes him jolt out of his seat. The sudden movement makes him press his leg even further against Jungmo’s, which doesn’t help him regain his composure. Except, as he tries to come up with something else to say as a rebuttal, he notices Jungmo’s eyes land on their pressed legs, ears crimson red.  

At first, Wonjin thinks he’s just projecting his own thoughts onto Jungmo, waiting for him to turn his attention back to the screen after having acknowledged their pressed legs with a stare, but his eyes don’t move for one, two, three beats. His ears are probably warm to touch, a thought Wonjin has to slap away immediately before his hand reaches out to do so.  

It awakens something in Wonjin. Thoughts start filling his mind with the same questions he had while reading the fan fiction the night before, questions about how Jungmo would react under the touch of his fingers. At the time, he had tried to push those thoughts away, labelling them as wrong and, more importantly, farfetched. What he hadn’t considered until now, though, was the possibility that they were more real than he thought. Jungmo is still staring, ears red and eyes dark, and it makes the panic in Wonjin’s mind succumb to the curiosity of all those ‘what ifs’. He lets his hand grab onto Jungmo’s thigh, trying to look as casual as possible as he continues to speak to the fans, his expression as neutral as possible not to give himself away. His heart is pounding loudly in his ears, but he pretends to be calm. 

Jungmo’s eyes move from their pressed knees to Wonjin’s hand as if he has been hypnotised. His hand is out of sight, hidden away from prying eyes (except for the two burning a hole in his hand). Wonjin pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing, eyes trained to stay on the camera. He moves his hand slightly higher, feather-like strokes that are barely perceivable through the fabric of his trousers, but he could have sworn Jungmo still shivers at the touch. 

He wonders how many times before he had mindlessly done this, seeking physical contact with him with no second thoughts at all. Have Jungmo’s eyes always followed, and he just hasn’t noticed? Or is maybe Jungmo going through similar emotions ever since the Pepero game?  

Wonjin is vaguely aware of the fact he has said some words in between the time Jungmo has called him cute and when his hand started moving on his leg, and he is also aware of the fact Jungmo hasn’t said a single word since he started touching him that way. He gives a stronger squeeze to his thigh, an attempt at making him aware he should be saying something right about now. 

Jungmo’s trance is broken, and his eyes immediately shoot to the front, fully focusing on the camera, trying to read comments in the chat. He mumbles something about being tired, his ears still telling a story only Wonjin can read.  

For the rest of the live, Jungmo doesn’t make eye contact with him once.  

♡⸝⸝ 

This time around, Wonjin doesn’t even try to fight it. He’s on the bed and scrolling through Twitter as soon as he is back to the dorm.  

He should have followed through with his plan to make himself too tired to even think about going down that rabbit-hole again, but his brain is now full of the look on Jungmo’s face as his fingers climbed up on his thigh. He should know better by now, but he needs to answer the question that has been stuck in his head for hours. Has Jungmo ever looked at him like that before?  

It’s a stupid thought, he’s sure of it. He was probably just flustered by the sudden show of physical attention, nothing more, but the thought that he may have ever been on the receiving end of that gaze before makes Wonjin’s skin prickle with an unknown feeling.  

He knows the name of the account by heart now, so he just types it in the search bar and is not surprised to find clips of their live today being analysed by fans of their dynamic. He doesn’t have to scroll too much to find the video he is looking for, zooming into Jungmo’s face to make sure the look he remembered wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.  

The fans seem to agree with him, too, as he scrolls through the replies. A specific one catches his attention, and he reads it back a few times to let it sink in. He has his Wonjin look in his eyes. He bites down on his lip nervously, not knowing exactly what that means, but now aware of the implication this is a regular occurrence.  

He types ‘Jungmo Wonjin look’ in the search bar, and the algorithm seems to have been keeping track of his recent searches, because a video compilation is the first thing that shows up. He presses play, once again finding himself as a spectator to scenes he has actually lived, but maybe never really paid much attention to. 

A series of clips plays in front of his eyes, and with each one of them, Wonjin feels like he is learning something new about the way Jungmo looks at him. The way the sharp edges of his eyes soften whenever he is fondly listening to him talk, his inability to control a big smile appearing on his face whenever he’s making fun of him, his eyes following shortly after and turning into two half-moons.  

It’s not like he is seeing these looks for the first time, but it’s the first time he lets himself wonder if he’s ever looked at anyone that way. He wonders if the same look appears on his face whenever he’s listening to Hyeongjun talk, and the thought makes the taste in his mouth turn sour. He has never been jealous or possessive over anyone, but he wants Jungmo’s soft eyes to look at him like that only. 

He should spend more time dwelling on this new-found wish, but he’s physically incapable of stopping his scrolling, until another video catches his attention.  

It’s from a recent fansign, Wonjin remembers the outfits they were wearing. They are being their usual playful selves, Jungmo’s hand gravitates towards Wonjin’s hip, pinching at it in hope to get his attention. Wonjin gives him a reaction, which is exactly what he seems to want, by the satisfied look on his face. Except the look immediately disappears from his face as soon as Wonjin retaliates. Wonjin’s hand grabs at Jungmo’s waist, fingers digging into his skin in an attempt to hurt, but doing very little damage. Or so he thought, because the look that appears on Jungmo’s face as he follows his fingers to the spot he’s currently marking make present-Wonjin feel like the air has been sucked out of his lungs. It’s the look he saw that afternoon, the one he was hoping to find more evidence of. 

The look is somewhere between wanting and pleading, and there is a reason why Wonjin hasn't been able to pick up on it all this time. Only now that he has opened his mind to the thought he may like Jungmo that he can read these feelings clearly, like looking at himself in the mirror. 

Despite the fact he had spent days panicking at the thought, the realisation that he likes Jungmo doesn’t startle him. It’s an acknowledgement that settles into his mind quietly, like an overlay that adds to all of his memories with him, adding depth that wasn't there before. Maybe it was always there, and he just couldn’t quite see it, or maybe it was completely new, Wonjin isn't sure.  

What he does know, though, is that he’s growing more and more obsessed with the thought of Jungmo wanting him. If he accepts his own desire for him with quiet understanding, the possibility that Jungmo may want him hits him like a crashing wave.  

His skin tickles at the thought of being able to make Jungmo look at him like that again, at the possibility of seeing darker eyes focused on the spot he’s marking as his.  

What would Jungmo look like if Wonjin’s hands dug deeper into his skin, leaving marks to remind him of him later? What would be the look in his eyes if Wonjin pressed his finger to his lips, just as he had done to him during the game?  

Wonjin hears his own breath getting faster as images from the fan fiction he read resurface in his mind, only this time, he’s picturing what Jungmo would look like below him as he touches every inch of his skin, red cheeks and glossy eyes. Would he even be able to ask for more? He’s never been good at asking for what he wants, but Wonjin would know what he needs even without asking. 

He rubs his eyes again, trying to bring himself back to reality. He’s hard again, but this time, he isn’t startled by it. All he can focus on right now, is this new-found desire, and how he can get to see that look in Jungmo’s eyes again. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Wonjin walks into the practice room after a good night of rest. Turns out, accepting you have feelings for your best friend does wonders for your sleep. He feels calmer now that he is fully aware of what his emotions mean. 

Okay, maybe calmer isn’t the right word for it. He feels excited and restless at the thought of seeing Jungmo. Jungmo, the person he likes. The person he wants. He lets this knowledge engulf him as he sees him walk through the door, wearing his usual pair of gray sweatpants and a black hoodie on top. His hair is a little messy, little strands sticking up everywhere, making him look five times as cute.  

He waits for him to drop his bag to the floor before walking over to where he’s standing, giving him a big smile. Jungmo is not one to just take, so he gives a breathtaking one right back.  

“Morning. You look better.” 

Wonjin giggles, aware of the irony of him being so worried about him sleeping when he was the cause behind it all along. Yet, he can’t help but feel warm at the thought of him worrying. 

“Better than you...” 

He simply retorts, in an attempt to maintain their dynamic unchanged, but he can’t help but reach up with his fingers to brush his unruly hair back into place. Jungmo’s eyes follow the movement, making Wonjin’s skin feel warm, but not quite as visibly as the redness that colours his cheeks.  

“You wish that was true...”  

Jungmo’s comeback is weak, and he knows that too, but Wonjin doesn’t point it out, too busy taking in the feeling of his soft hair under his fingers. His eyes find Wonjin’s briefly, feelings spilling out of them at lightning speed, but he only lets him see them for a second.  

Wonjin frowns. He wants to see more of himself through Jungmo’s eyes, but he knows that Jungmo would never brazenly jump head first into something that could affect other people around him. He’s never been one for putting himself first, which means Wonjin is going to have to push a little harder to make him take the leap. 

“Are we watching a movie tonight?” 

Jungmo looks surprised at the sudden invitation, but a smile creeps onto his lips almost immediately. He’s so transparent that it makes Wonjin wonder how he hadn’t seen through him before. 

“What’s the occasion?” 

He still argues, for the sake of bothering him just a little bit, which Wonjin doesn’t mind. 

“Do we need an occasion? I can ask someone else if you are busy...”  

“I’ll go home to get changed and then come to your dorm.” 

Wonjin smiles, satisfied with how quickly he can make him fold. He reaches his hand up once again to stroke under his chin.  

“Good boy.” 

He just whispers, before joining the others in their stretching circle.  

♡⸝⸝ 

Watching a movie together in Wonjin’s room shouldn’t feel like a buzz worthy occurrence. It’s pretty common for them to share space and spend time together even when they have free time. At least, this is what Wonjin tries to tell himself that as he changes position on his bed for the third time. 

Even if they have done this a million times before, this is the first time since Wonjin has become aware of his feelings. It makes his stomach churn in anticipation as small things take on a new meaning, like resting his head against Jungmo’s shoulder, or fingers brushing as they adjust their position. 

Wonjin can’t help but wonder if Jungmo has felt this sort of anticipation for a long time. Did he get butterflies whenever Wonjin asked him to hang out? Did he sit closer on purpose, hoping they would steal touches that would feed his (then) unrequited crush until the next time they could be alone?  

It would only be fair for Wonjin to keep his feelings quiet for as long as Jungmo has had to endure, but he would only be prolonging Jungmo’s silent acceptance, and he can’t do that. Instead, he wants to make up to him by never being quiet about how much he really wants to be with him.  

Jungmo knocks on the door and lets himself in without waiting for a reply. Wonjin asks himself how this is one of the first times he’s realising just how overwhelmingly beautiful he looks. He’s not wearing any make up, and his hair is frizzy from quickly drying them after the shower, but Wonjin thinks he may be the prettiest person he has ever seen.  

He wants to kiss his pretty face until he’s a blushing mess. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Jungmo climbs into bed right away, occupying the space Wonjin had purposely carved for him.  

“Did you miss me that bad?” 

He challenges him, one eyebrow raised and lips curved up into a smirk. Wonjin takes on the challenge, and boldly moves his face closer to Jungmo’s with a smirk that matches his. 

“Like I couldn’t breathe.” 

Their mouths are only inches apart, not very different from the distance from the Pepero game. Wonjin feels his heartbeat loudly pounding in his ears, but he tries to be nonchalant about it for the sake of pushing Jungmo’s buttons.  

Jungmo’s cheeks cover in crimson, whipping his head away so quickly that he almost tips over the edge of the bed. Wonjin grabs his arm before he can fall off, pulling him back to the previous distance. He can tell just how flustered Jungmo is by the look in his eyes, and it makes his heart pound even louder. He gives Jungmo a break, satisfied for now with the way he’s looking at him, and he settles back into his space, setting up the movie on his computer screen. 

The movie is just a pretext, but Wonjin slips into the comfortable dynamic they have always had. They get absorbed into the story and start commenting it together, cracking jokes about whom the characters remind them of between the rest of the members. The excitement of new feelings melts into one with the familiarity of their bond, which makes Wonjin feel warm. It’s actually so easy to see himself loving Jungmo more, he doesn’t think there will never be a limit to how big his love for him can grow.  

He lets his head rest against Jungmo’s shoulder, just as he had done before, and he adjusts down to make sure he’s not stretching his neck. Ever so considerate, his Jungmo-Hyung.  

Wonjin tries to focus back on the movie, but he can’t help but think if Jungmo is feeling the same way he is feeling right now. Is he actually paying attention to the story, or is he thinking of how close their hands are resting on the bed? Is he trying to find an excuse to just create more contact between their bodies, just as he is? 

As if his thoughts had just been broadcasted on the screen in front of them, Jungmo’s hand slips behind Wonjin’s back and settles against his hip. Wonjin’s body is pressed closer to Jungmo’s side, as his skin burns under the press of his fingers on his hip.  

“It’s cold, warm me up.” 

There’s the excuse. Wonjin reads right through it as if he has been the one making it up. He doesn’t say anything back for a while, wanting to enjoy this cuddling moment for as long as he can allow, inebriated by the smell of Jungmo's shampoo.  

He can't remember the last time they stayed like this, if ever, and it makes him wonder if maybe the past few days had also poked a hole through Jungmo’s defences. He has a lot more practice than Wonjin does, which also means he has been patient for longer. Is he finally getting restless? Is he ready to reach for more? Because Wonjin wants more. He wants all. 

“You seem to like that.”  

His voice comes out hoarser than it should, due to how long they have gone without speaking. Jungmo doesn’t move, still unaware of where this is going. 

“What?” 

“Grabbing my waist like that.” 

It’s as if Wonjin hears the snap in Jungmo’s mind as his unspoken truth is brought to life. His hand pulls away from his skin so quickly that Wonjin feels a shiver from the sudden cold, but he is fast enough to react. He lifts his head up from his shoulder and manages to grab Jungmo’s hand with his. He twists his body to face him for the first time in an hour, his knees pressing down on the mattress right by his leg. Jungmo is frozen in place, his eyes searching for something other than Wonjin’s face in the room. When Wonjin presses his hand back to his own waist, he sees the fear of being caught in the act forming behind his eyes. 

“I didn’t ask you to stop.”  

Wonjin is being brave for the both of them because he knows Jungmo’s instinct would be to retreat back to where it is comfortable, but the truth is he feels a slight shake in the hand he is pressing on top of Jungmo’s. What if he’s read this all wrong, and Jungmo actually doesn’t feel that way? Is he about to throw out years of friendship just because of what some fans online think they saw in his eyes when he looks at him?  

He’s scared shitless at the thought of getting this wrong, but he also knows Jungmo better than anyone else. He can read his eyes easily, and right now, they are telling him everything he needs to know. So he doesn’t stop. 

“I like it when you do that.” 

Jungmo’s eyes shoot up to find Wonjin’s, an attempt to find his usual cheekiness and fall back into their usual teasing banter, but he doesn’t find anything other than sincerity and sureness. 

He tries to pull his hand back again, but Wonjin keeps it still, digging so deep into his own skin that he feels a bruise coming on.  

“Wonjin...” 

Jungmo is pleading, just like his eyes are, to close this door again, to leave unspoken things unsaid, and to leave buried feelings undiscovered. 

“I like it when you touch me.” 

Wonjin can’t grant his wish. He’s never been good at burying things inside when he’s sure of them, and right now, he believes every word out of his mouth. 

“And I like the way you look at me.” 

His free hand settles on Jungmo’s face, forcing their gazes together as Jungmo’s attempts an escape. As soon as their eyes meet, he can sense Jungmo’s stubbornness melting away under his touch. He lets out a sigh, unable to fight back any longer. His eyes let Wonjin see his feelings again, just like they had in the practice room that morning. Wonjin lets them wrap around him like a hug, giving him the last drop of courage he needed.  

He lets the finger caress Jungmo’s face lightly, taking in the feeling of his soft skin. He traces a path down his jaw with his index and middle finger until they reach his chin. He moves his thumb to lightly trace Jungmo’s bottom lip. Jungmo’s eyes close shut as he tries to compose himself, and Wonjin gets high with the feeling of feather-like touches already driving him so crazy.  

He lets himself stare for a second, taking in the view of Jungmo’s red cheeks and shaky breath. He hasn’t even really touched him, and yet he is already looking like this. Wonjin wants more. 

He slowly moves his finger away, giving Jungmo a second to catch up and open his eyes again, but when he does, he finds Wonjin’s lips just a few inches away from his, like they had been an hour ago. Jungmo attempts another escape, but Wonjin is quick to predict it as he presses his fingers at the back of Jungmo’s neck, pushing him forward just enough to crash their lips together.  

Wonjin’s body melts at the touch, finally able to know exactly what he has been agonising over for days. Jungmo’s lips taste of his favourite lip balm, as well as something else that he can’t quite place, but will remember forever as Jungmo’s own personal taste. Jungmo has stopped fighting him, and his hands are now willingly digging into Wonjin’s waist, pulling him closer to his body despite the awkward position they are in. Wonjin lets himself be pulled closer, settling on top of Jungmo’s legs with one knee to each side of his body.  

Their crotches are pressed together and Jungmo is letting his hands roam in a desperate attempt at mapping him out. They travel down to Wonjin’s thighs and squeeze at them, the same way he had done to him while they were on the live the day before. Wonjin lets out a sound that he doesn’t think he’s ever made before, and Jungmo swallows it all, opening his mouth just enough to allow Wonjin to explore him too.  

He doesn’t need to be told twice, as his tongue slips inside of Jungmo’s mouth and starts licking every corner, claiming it as his. Jungmo lets out a strangled whine that vibrates down Wonjin’s throat, and he thinks he might pass out right there and then with how horny that makes him feel.  

Wonjin’s hand finds Jungmo’s shoulder, gripping to them as he rolls his hips enough to make Jungmo moan again at the friction between their crotches. He wants to hear it for the rest of his life. His hands grab at the sides of Jungmo’s shirt, and he can see he is about to obediently raise his hands up to let himself be undressed, but the front door locking makes them both stop in their tracks immediately.  

“Anyone home?” 

Wonjin curses under his breath as he hears Hyeongjun’s voice faintly behind the closed door. He climbs off of Jungmo’s legs slowly, wishing there was a way they could just go back to what they were doing, uninterrupted, but Jungmo shoots up on his feet as soon as he’s free to move.  

“I should go.”  

He mumbles, as he tries to fix his hair where they had been pulled. His face is red and he looks sweaty on his neck, there is no way anyone wouldn’t question why he looks like that. 

“Why? He’s not going to come in here.” 

Jungmo barely hears it, his brain travelling a million miles an hour. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He opens the door quickly and Wonjin hears the front door shutting just a few seconds after. 

He sighs, the thought this might have been a mistake quickly replaced by the need to feel Jungmo’s lips against his again. 

♡⸝⸝ 

The taste of Jungmo’s lips is still imprinted in Wonjin’s brain when he wakes up. Not that he got much sleep, anyway. Flashes from the night before came to him as something mixed between dreams and memories, and it was hard for him to tell apart things that had really happened and purely things he just wanted to do. The sound of Jungmo’s little whines replayed over and over like a catchy song you cannot get out of your head, and all he can think about is when he would get to see Jungmo again.  

He spent a lot of time awake thinking about their relationship since the radio show, and as much as he was startled in the beginning when feelings started creeping up, he has pretty easily reached the conclusion that he likes Jungmo as more than just a friend. He isn't one for denial, and after what happened the night before, there wasn’t much to deny. 

He also knew Jungmo like the back of his hand, and now that he could see his feelings clearly, he questions how he could have been so blind to it all. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to see it yet, not until he could give himself fully to him. He would never keep Jungmo in a situation where he’s at a disadvantage, and maybe his subconscious protected him from it. 

Now, the playing field is even, or almost. The expression on Jungmo’s face as he left his room last night tells him that he has hidden his feelings all this time, mostly for other’s sake, and if there is one thing he would never do is put himself first; but Jungmo has never denied him anything, and he hopes that applies to this too. 

They have a meeting at the company to discuss the tracks for their next comeback. Wonjin arrives ten minutes earlier, his hair covered by a beanie he threw on to hide the messiness of his hair. Serim, Allen and Seongmin are already there, but there is no sign of the one person he really wants to see. It’s weird, cause Jungmo is always fifteen minutes early to official meetings. He watches the minutes pass by on his phone until it’s time for the meeting to start, and just as if it has been planned – which it most likely has – the door opens and Jungmo makes his entrance.  

His face is mostly covered by a mask, failing to conceal the look of someone who has barely slept. Wonjin feels a pang of guilt at the pit of his stomach, but with the way he left the night before, he really didn’t have a chance to make things better. He sits down opposite Wonjin, two chairs removed, making sure enough distance is kept between them.  

The meeting goes by without Jungmo making eye contact with Wonjin even once, which doesn’t surprise the younger in the slightest. He knows him too well not to have expected avoidance as a strategy. He doesn’t try and force a conversation with him, but he does sneak more than a few looks at him while their managers explain to them what the next album is going to look like.  

Dance practice ends up being pretty much the same. Jungmo busies himself with conversations he really doesn’t care about just for the sake of looking too busy to be approached by Wonjin. He manages to meet eyes with him once through the mirror, and he can still see red spreading across his cheeks even when the mask covers most of them. 

Wonjin lets the day go by without trying to talk to Jungmo, allowing him to have the time to process his thoughts without backing him in a corner. So, when practice ends, he just makes his way back to the dorm. He finishes his shower and grabs the leftover takeout he put in the fridge the day before. This is the time in his routine during the past week when he would start scrolling Twitter, searching for an answer on his own feelings. It was stupid to find answers about himself through the words of others, but he couldn’t say it hadn’t been effective. Now that he has his answers, though, he doesn’t feel the need to read those words anymore. He would rather write his own story with Jungmo, when he is ready to do that.  

He opens their KakaoTalk chat and hovers over the call button. He wants to give him space, but he also misses him like crazy. He was with him the whole day, but he wasn’t really there. Wonjin sighs to himself, deciding against pressing the call button, and tries to distract himself by reviewing some lyrics he had jotted down on his phone.  

He hums at the knock on his door, thinking Hyeongjun was probably asking to borrow his charger, but doesn’t turn around to even look at the opening door.  

“Hey.” 

His head shoots up from his phone and almost snaps off his neck as he turns around to the sound of Jungmo’s voice. It's surprising how a man this tall can make himself look so small, but Wonjin has to fight the urge to hug him. 

“Hi.”  

Wonjin gets up from the bed and takes a step forward, unable to bear the distance between them for much longer.  

“Sorry to show up so late.”  

Wonjin shakes his head, taking another tentative step towards him. He hates this kind of formality between them, but he understands why he’s being like that. He’s never asked for permission to step into his room before, but now it feels like he should. Jungmo doesn’t step back, but he can tell he’s getting more restless. 

“Look, about what happened yesterday... I don’t want things to change between us.” 

Wonjin sees the picture he has painted of the inside of Jungmo’s mind come to life in front of him. It’s so in character for him to be saying this, it doesn’t even startle him. He takes a second to think about this, thinking of the agreement he has made with himself to give him the time he needs to process, without backing him up in a corner, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be honest about his own feelings. 

“I do. Want things to change, I mean.” 

Jungmo’s eyes leave the floor for the first time to meet Wonjin’s. They are tired from a sleepless night, but still full of hope and worry. Wonjin takes a step that leaves him only inches away from him for the first time today.  

“W...what? I...” 

Wonjin’s hand reaches up to Jungmo’s face, and despite all his fighting spirit, he can’t help but lean into the touch. His cheek is warm, and it makes him feel like he’s holding the entire world in his palm.  

“I mean, I want things to stay the same between us. Hang out with you, be close to you... but I also want to kiss you again.” 

Jungmo lets out a puff of air that hits the side of Wonjin’s hand. It’s somewhere between a deep breath and a sigh of relief. It’s the sentence he’s been waiting to hear for a long time, but no matter how much he prepared for it, it knocks the air out of his lungs.  

“Can I?” 

The distance is already non-existent, and the whisper hits Jungmo right against his mouth. Wonjin senses his defences falling at his feet the second he gets closer to him, and that makes him lose any shred of control he might have managed to keep until now. He barely waits for Jungmo’s head to form a small nod before crushing their lips together again.  

Jungmo lets out a relieved whine against his mouth, and Wonjin swallows it up. His hands wrap around the back of his neck and start playing with his hair, lightly pulling at them as he pushes himself on his tiptoes to reach him better. Jungmo doesn’t let him struggle for too long, bending down enough to meet him at his height, his own hands finding their way back to their designated spot on Wonjin’s hips.  

Now that he feels more certain he won’t run away from him, Wonjin feel the urge to push him as far as he can. He thinks back to Jungmo’s eyes following his hands to his body, and all the looks he still hasn’t discovered as he drives him over the edge.  

“You didn’t answer my question.”  

He breathes against Jungmo’s lips, stealing kisses in between words, as he’s unable to break away for the full sentence. Jungmo’s brain seems to be so far gone that he barely remembers his name, let alone understand what Wonjin is talking about, but he’s determined to get him to say something.  

He pushes him until his back is right against the door, counting his blessings his three roommates have agreed on getting dinner together, and he has decided to pass. Jungmo whimpers against his mouth, desperately trying to deepen the kiss, but Wonjin denies him. Just this once, and not for long.  

“I asked if you liked this.” 

Wonjin presses his hand on top of Jungmo’s, lifting his shirt enough to allow his fingers to touch his skin and not the t-shirt he was wearing. Jungmo sighs, his eyes fluttering shut as his hands explore more uncovered skin. It gives Wonjin a rush of adrenaline to see just how easy it is to make him come undone in front of him, when he’s barely touched him yet. 

“No?”  

He grabs his hand and pulls it away, breaking contact between their lips as well. Jungmo tries to reach for his skin again, but Wonjin blocks it with a smirk. 

“I like it. I like you... So much. I like you so much.” 

It comes out as a whimper, a delirious confession as he can’t control the emotions he’s feeling right now, but it still makes Wonjin’s heart race. He has the prettiest man in the world standing in front of him, telling him he likes him as he begs to touch him more, and he thinks about how he could never want to go back to just being friends. He wants to do everything with him, all the time.  

He presses their lips together again, melting against Jungmo’s body as they press against the door behind them. Jungmo opens his lips to let him in, and Wonjin doesn’t hesitate to start exploring every corner of his mouth. Wonjin sneaks a leg in between Jungmo’s, pressing their bodies together, just like he had done the day before. The friction between their covered crotches pressing against one another sends an electric shock down Wonjin’s spine, but the noise that leaves Jungmo’s mouth at the contact acts as the fuel that makes him catch fire.  

He wants to hear it again, louder, as he comes undone under him. Wonjin grabs onto Jungmo’s shirt and walks him towards the bed, stealing a kiss or two for the ride. He lets himself be handled, complying to every silent request Wonjin makes. His hands fly up when he tucks at his shirt, letting him remove it off him. He helps Wonjin get his jeans off when he sees him struggling to get them off his long legs.  

Wonjin can’t help but stare as he stands in front of him, almost naked. It’s not the first time he's seen him like that, but it’s the first time he’s really taking it all in. He lets his hands travel down his body, warm hands against cold skin, memorising every spot that elicits a reaction out of him, something to go back to later.  

Wonjin’s hand travels down to his already hardened crotch, stroking it lightly with his fingers. It sends a shiver down his spine, the excitement of the last line they need to cross right underneath his palm. Jungmo makes that sound he likes, and he doesn’t think twice about letting his hand slip inside his boxers. His fingers wrap lightly around Jungmo’s length, freeing it from the constraints of fabric, as he starts stroking the skin. He thinks it’s funny, really, how only a few days before he felt dirty for thinking about relieving himself thinking about his best friend, when now he had his dick in his hand. 

Jungmo is a mess of moans, his breath becoming more laboured by the second. Wonjin welcomes the invitation to make him come undone under his hands, the desire to see him come apart because of him greater than his own pleasure. He strokes his thumb over Jungmo’s tip, wetting it with the liquid that has already started leaking. Jungmo squirms under his fingers, trying to pull away from his grip. 

“W-Wonjin, wait...” 

Wonjin indulges him, reducing the intensity of his grip against him, enough to let him catch his breath. His lips are swollen, saliva dripping down his chin. He’s covered in sweat on his forehead and his cheeks are sprinkled with shades of red. This is the prettiest he’s ever looked.  

Jungmo’s hands reach out to grab Wonjin’s shirt, lifting it off his head and finally uncovering his naked torso. He stares, and he doesn’t even try to hide it, before crushing his lips against Wonjin’s again. He traces Wonjin’s mouth with his tongue, sucking at his bottom lip desperately, taking on more than what he can handle in his current state. Wonjin’s hands are still wrapped around his hardened length, and he feels it twitching in his hands as he licks inside his mouth.  

Jungmo’s hands roam around Wonjin’s body and try to reach the elastic band of Wonjin’s sweatpants, a clear attempt to return the favour. Wonjin thinks it’s cute, how he can barely string two sentences together, but his priority is to make him feel good. He groans into the kiss when Jungmo’s hand strokes his dick through the fabric of his boxers, but Wonjin reaches down to stop his hand. Jungmo breaks the kiss, the look in his eyes full of worry he’s done something wrong.  

“It’s okay. Just let me take care of you, Hyung.” 

Wonjin whispers against his lips, licking away the streak of saliva drooling down his chin. Jungmo doesn’t have the strength to fight him, as his lips start travelling down his body, leaving wet kisses on his neck, sucking on the skin right below his shoulder blade, and scraping his teeth against his hardened nipple. Jungmo’s legs shake, Wonjin’s hands wetter with pre-cum. Wonjin lightly pushes him on the bed, his body so pliable that it goes exactly where he puts it. Wonjin makes sure he’s fully lying down before climbing on top of him, his mouth travelling down the same path as before, but moving further down this time. He kisses his stomach, seeing it clench under his touch. He traces his abdomen with kisses until he reaches his hardened length, leaving a small kiss at the base of it, before tracing the side with his tongue.  

Jungmo’s hips shoot upwards, his entire body spasming at the feeling. Wonjin wants to hear the sound he’s making until the day he dies. He’s not sure if he can take it, but he traces the other side with his tongue as well. He’s panting, hands gripping onto the sheets.  

Wonjin lifts his head to watch him as he lets the tip disappear between his lips. It’s a filthy image, his best friend completely naked and cover in sweat as he’s taking him inside his mouth, but it’s a sight he never wants to stop seeing.  

It doesn’t take much longer for Jungmo to grab onto Wonjin’s shoulder to warn him that he’s too close, pushing Wonjin’s face away before he can come inside his mouth. Stickiness and warmth covers his stomach and Wonjin’s hands, his chest rising faster than he’s ever seen, even after hours of practice.  

Wonjin allows him to ride his high, slowing down his movements and slowly loosening his grip around Jungmo’s dick. Jungmo lays still, the only sound out of his mouth is his heavy breathing, but even as he catches his breath, his eyes don’t leave Wonjin’s for a second. It’s such a contrast to how the day had started, that it almost catches him off-guard. Emotions spill out of his eyes and fill Wonjin’s heart, fondness wrapping around him like a warm hug.  

Wonjin doesn’t pay any mind to his own hard erection, still constricted by his sweatpants. He’s more worried about taking care of Jungmo, so he gets up to find some tissues he keeps in the first drawer of his desk to clean up the sticky liquid from his body. Jungmo’s eyes follow every movement he makes, and Wonjin doesn’t let his gaze falter either, worried that he may miss one of those expressions of his he wants to remember forever. 

He goes to discard the tissues in the bathroom, and when he comes back, he finds Jungmo has put his boxers back on and is now leaning against the headboard of his bed. He walks back to the bed and sits down next to him, their eyes locking again as he plants a small kiss on his shoulder.  

“So... You like me so much.”  

Wonjin’s lips curve up in a small smile as Jungmo buries his face in his hands. The colour of his cheeks has not yet fully come back to his normal milky skin, a shade of pink acting as a background to his perfect features.  

“Stop teasing me...” 

Jungmo whines, his words muffled by his hands. Wonjin wraps his fingers around Jungmo’s as he pulls his hands away from his face, leaving their fingers intertwined as he rests them on top of Jungmo’s leg.  

“Were you ever going to tell me?” 

Wonjin’s question hangs in the air with the implication he has figured out he hadn’t suddenly become aware of his feelings the way he has. Jungmo looks down at their locked fingers for a second, an edge of something sad peaking through his eyes.  

“As long as I had you around, it didn’t matter. I could keep being just your friend, but I couldn’t handle losing you.” 

Wonjin brings Jungmo’s hand up to his mouth to plant a kiss on the back of his hand.  

“You were never going to lose me. I think I liked you for a long time, too. I just hadn't realised just how much.” 

Jungmo smiles widely, even if the tips of his ears betray how easily embarrassed he gets, and leans in to press a small peck to Wonjin’s lips. Wonjin welcomes it, deepening the kiss only for a few seconds, before resting his head on Jungmo’s shoulder. 

 Wonjin lets the comfort of the familiar position sink in, the tension in his body suddenly dissipating and making his limbs feel like jelly. Jungmo must perceive he’s getting more tired, the weight on his shoulder increasing by the second.  

“Do you want me to leave?” 

He asks in a small voice, but Wonjin shakes his head against his shoulder. 

“Never leave.” 

He whispers, intertwining their fingers with his eyes closed.  

He feels calm, but excited at the same time. It’s the comfort of liking someone who likes you back, someone you know better than anyone, but you have a chance to discover again for the first time. 

They both fall asleep, deeply, in each other’s embrace, nights of tossing and turning behind them now that they are safe in the knowledge of each other’s feelings.