the art of freeloading (part three b)
Part Three A
A grouchy Sungyeol, as it happened, was neither a Sungyeol to mess with, nor a good idea to interrogate while his "brain felt misplaced" in the following morning of a drunken night.
"I can't hear myself thinking," Sungyeol groaned, gulping Advil down with a glass of water. "It hurts so much my jaw hurts."
"You don't ever think," Woohyun snapped. "Don't disappear like that."
"I couldn't have brought you along anyway," Sungyeol fired back.
"Why?" Woohyun demanded, stung. "Where did you go?"
Sungyeol clammed up. "Out."
"I know you were out, dumbass; where were you?"
"Why do you care?" Sungyeol snapped, throwing his glass into the sink with enough force to crack the rim. Woohyun stiffened in annoyance.
Because he was worried; because Sungyeol was part of his life now; because he cared; fuck it. "Don't change the topic; all I want to know is --"
"A bar, alright?" Sungyeol snapped, wincing briefly and touching his temple. "A gay bar, okay; yes, that's right, you should look shocked, Woohyun, I am gay, and that's not normal, will never be normal, but -- but I'm still a man, so don't -- don't fuck around pretending you can, I don't know, mess around with me --"
"I never --"
"You do, you do; you give my observational skills too little credit, and I'm not -- I'm not going to play right into whatever the fuck your ego has in plan, alright --"
"Listen --"
"Your fucking ego is fucking colossal and I'm not a girl, Woohyun, and I know you're straight, alright, despite what Sunggyu-hyung says --"
Woohyun's brain took a moment to process this information. "Wait, you and --"
"It's not about him and -- fuck, Woohyun, are you even listening to me?"
"If you'd just --"
"No, no, I'm done listening, alright? This is my home now, and this is me laying my ground rules, and you should be fucking glad I'm not making you listen to this in the freezing cold --"
"Shut up," Woohyun said, taking Sungyeol by the shoulders and very nearly shaking him for how hard he was vibrating with poorly suppressed anger. "Shut up."
"NO, I WILL NOT SHUT UP," Sungyeol yelled into his face, features screwed up into an expression of sheer, brilliant, white-hot anger. "IT'S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE I TOLD YOU, WOOHYUN, AND FRANKLY IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME I MIGHT HAVE TO MOVE OUT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Woohyun's grip on Sungyeol's shoulders tightened, but he glared up at Sungyeol's face and cricked his neck. "Fine," he said, "Fine. Say what you wish."
Sungyeol swallowed and closed his eyes for a short moment. When he opened them, his eyes were watery, but steely and determined all the same. "I have a boyfriend," he started, whispered it, really, and that -- that was a lie.
"Liar," Woohyun said calmly.
"Fuck, listen to me, you asshole, don't you think I don't already know that? I pretended to have a boyfriend, Woohyun, and initially that was a fabrication to convince you to let me stay, but then you go and act jealous and start hitting on me and -- and how was I supposed to take that? Fuck, I'm going to kill Myungsoo," Sungyeol said, looking on the whole like an explosive that had reached the end of its line.
"Please do," Woohyun agreed, but inside he was a turmoil of fuck fuck fuck and what? and I can't believe this is happening.
"Look, see?" Sungyeol said, looking upset on top of looking furious. "You say things like that and we watch porn together but you're straight and I'm gay and it's just -- just, you can't do things like this without giving me ideas, and I'd much rather continue living life knowing you'll never return my feelings for you -- oh, fuck, you didn't hear that, I didn't say that, Woohyun, please, I know you're just playing around, alright? I'm just -- single, okay, have always been, will probably forever be -- fuck, my head hurts, can I go mope around in bed now?"
Woohyun opened his mouth, closed it, and wondered if boys would react like girls if he pulled Sungyeol in for a kiss right now. Sungyeol would probably sock him in the face and kiss him back.
"You're doing that... Lego thing again," Sungyeol said, trying to squirm himself free from Woohyun's hands, and oh that's what last night's monologue was about --
"I'm okay," Woohyun said. "I mean, I'm okay with your, uh, feelings. I think I... um," he closed his eyes, tried to call his usual arrogance back, "I'm not surprised, really, who can resist me?" It was a poor attempt, but Sungyeol looked slightly better, and so he pulled Sungyeol in by the shoulders and drew him in for a hug, arms slipping down to hold him by the waist for comfort.
Sungyeol stood, stock-still, until Woohyun heard him breathe a sigh of relief into his hair, felt him extricate his arms from Woohyun's embrace -- and for a moment, he thought Sungyeol was trying to get away -- but Sungyeol only wrapped his arms around Woohyun's shoulders and gave his back a few hearty thumps, and said, "Our dicks are pressed together; aren't you grossed out?"
"Shut up, you're ruining our moment," Woohyun said into Sungyeol's shoulder, enjoying the way the fabric of Sungyeol's shirt scratched his lips, enjoying how snugly they fit together, enjoying the feeling of Sungyeol's waist beneath his arms. Wiry.
"A very gay moment," Sungyeol pointed out, shaking in his laughter. "Ugh, get off."
"I'm not, you know," Woohyun said, suddenly overwhelmed by Sungyeol, his scent, fuck, his body, all hard lines and angles and lean muscles. He inhaled hard, and he smelled so good, like detergent and shampoo -- a glorious mixture of many brands, Sungyeol once told him -- and an incredible, unnameable smell that Woohyun suspected came straight from within Sungyeol's body.
"Not gay?" Sungyeol said, snorting. "That's good, anyway -- who knows what kinds of things two gays cohabiting could get up to?"
Woohyun felt a pleasant surge of heat down south, and quickly directed his focus to the physically unfeasible act of removing his body parts from Sungyeol.
"I got cast in a TV drama, by the way," Sungyeol said, completely oblivious to Woohyun's admittedly half-hearted attempts. "It's not much but it's a start."
"That's great," Woohyun said gloomily. "I hope it works out for you like it didn't work out for me."
"Don't be such a downer," Sungyeol scolded. Woohyun kind of really liked the vibrations of his voice on his shoulder, and he pressed closer, giving up entirely on the whole Extricate Self From Sungyeol mission.
"I just," Woohyun started, wondering if he should tell Sungyeol, if he should divulge this little insecurity he'd held so long and dear in his heart to a man who possibly liked him, whose leaving would probably shatter him and dig his soul out and leave him to walk this earth as a flimsy shell of human skin and broken pieces of his heart. "I'm always losing things."
"Absentmindedness?" One of Sungyeol's hands began to rub circles on Woohyun's back, and fuck his hands felt amazing.
"No," Woohyun said, almost biting his tongue when Sungyeol hit a tender knot in his muscles, "No, I, uh... oh, fuck, don't stop, fuck that's good, right there -- what was I saying?"
"Losing things," Sungyeol reminded, working both hands now, kneading and just -- doing illegal things to Woohyun's back muscles until Woohyun was pressed entirely against him, nose almost squashed up against Sungyeol's neck. Every breath nearly sent him to the floor in ecstasy.
"Right," Woohyun said, trying fruitlessly to tone down his body's reactions. "Right, uh, I trained at Woolim Entertainment for a while as a singer, but six months in they kicked me out. Six fucking months, Sungyeol, that's like... half a year, god, did you work as a masseuse in your hometown or something, I can't think with your hands doing that and that, that's great, don't ever stop -- don't you have work this morning?"
"Took leave today," Sungyeol said, "In celebration of my first casting! Sunggyu-hyung protested like a mad man at first, but he agreed in the end. He's secretly a softie on the inside. And I never worked as a masseuse but I massaged my mother really often." He sounded wistful.
Woohyun watched in fascination as Sungyeol swallowed, Adam's apple moving almost violently beneath his throat. "You should," he said throatily, and swallowed as well. "Well, no, you should be my masseuse. I'm not sharing your services."
"How flattering," Sungyeol said drily, and jabbed vehemently at a knot in Woohyun's back. "Should we bring this to the bed?"
"Be my guest," Woohyun said, leaning away and shooting Sungyeol his best attempt at bedroom eyes. "Fuck, this really is a gay moment, isn't it."
Sungyeol suddenly looked defensive. "I'm not --" he began.
"Shut up," Woohyun interrupted, "I'm pretending I didn't hear anything about feelings and all that. Hurry, quick, my back muscles yearn your touch."
"Maybe you should let go of me first," Sungyeol suggested. "Idiot."
"Right," Woohyun said, taking his arms back, "I knew that. I was going to."
"Right," Sungyeol said.
"No time for small talk," Woohyun told him, walking away. "Bed, now."
"Asshole."
"Don't you wish!"
"Oh, I should never have told you," Sungyeol groaned, walking tentatively into Woohyun's bedroom. Woohyun shooed Risky off his bed and clambered onto it, belly down, stomach squirming in barely concealed anticipation. Sungyeol, on his bed, looming over him with his hands all over his body -- that was definitely going to be one of Woohyun's next fantasies to jerk off to.
"I await your filthy acts of pleasure-giving," Woohyun said around a mouthful of pillow.
"You do realise I'm gay, don't you," Sungyeol said flatly, standing over Woohyun. "Did you even listen to me at all, just now?"
"'Course I did," Woohyun said impatiently. "I'm not hitting on you, I'm being my usual charming self."
"Really," Sungyeol said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "You were never like this before." He sat down on Woohyun's bed.
Woohyun twisted his face to look up at him. Sungyeol's features were drawn into the strangest of expressions -- calculating, worried, hopeful. "I didn't like you before," Woohyun said, feeling slightly guilty. "I like you now."
Sungyeol laughed, lips pulling back to reveal teeth and gum, a heavy sound rolling waves of discomfort down Woohyun's back. "I never liked you at all," he joked, smoothing his palms over Woohyun's shoulders.
"You know what the first thing I told Sunggyu-hyung was, after your first night? "I'm going to kill Sungyeol"," Woohyun said, closing his eyes. "I still want to kill you sometimes."
"Believe me, I know how you feel," Sungyeol said, rubbing his thumbs into his shoulders and working downwards.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Woohyun occasionally muffling an "ow" when Sungyeol hit a tender area, and by the time Sungyeol reached the base of his spine, his shirt had ridden up. Sungyeol's fingers slipped onto his skin, icy cold but rubbing warmth into his muscles anyway, and Woohyun barely managed to swallow a yelp. He pressed his hips against the bed, revelled in the slight shock of pleasure, and realised belatedly he'd gotten a hard-on during Sungyeol's massage.
It was a -- it was a fucking turn-on, was what it was, Sungyeol's hands slipping up under his shirt and bringing the massage to entirely new levels of intimacy. Woohyun subtly pressed his hips down again, biting his tongue and turning his face away from Sungyeol. There was something highly questionably about this -- humping his bed while Sungyeol went on obliviously, massaging him, hands everywhere, and sometimes when he bent down to reach Woohyun's shoulders he could smell Sungyeol, the pleasant mixture of scents surrounding him. Fuck.
"You want to take your shirt off?" Sungyeol asked, pressing his long, long fingers into another sensitive spot.
"Oh fuck do that again," Woohyun stuttered, shuddering and pulling his shirt off with wobbly hands.
Sungyeol complied, and Woohyun jerked his hips involuntarily, biting back a moan. He swallowed instead and tried to speak, to distract himself from Sungyeol's fucking fantastic fingers against his skin, to repress his ridiculous urges that involved copious amounts of tonsil hockey and lip action, and maybe a long bout of love confessions. "I, ahem, I was kicked out of Woolim," Woohyun said. "I was talking about this earlier before you distracted me --"
"Me distract you?" Sungyeol interrupted. "You wanted this."
"Yeah, whatever, don't get all technical on me," Woohyun said. "As I was saying, I'd invested a lot of time and effort in training, and my parents had sacrificed lots for it, and the company -- they kicked me out, just like that. No apologies. I wasn't good-looking enough, or good enough in general." Sungyeol's hands wavered and Woohyun shifted impatiently. "So I lost that, and then I lost my parents' happiness -- they're still disappointed with, I don't know, me -- and I've never been able to keep a girlfriend, and. Yeah, that's it. It's not so bad." Except for the fact that it was.
"Oh," Sungyeol said. "I don't blame Woollim, your singing has affected my ear drums in ways that cannot be explained or healed."
"You're fantastic at this comforting business," Woohyun said drily.
"I am, aren't I?" Sungyeol asked airily. "I'm fantastic in whatever I do, really."
But, honestly speaking, he was glad for Sungyeol's nasty brand of humour -- it made everything duller, less painful, and even better than it really was, somehow. Sungyeol had been a true friend, a companion, a fellow soldier in their wars of verbal attacks, and Sungyeol -- he was never the enemy, was he? He was, always was, a comrade, going through and discussing battle plans with Woohyun. It had always been the two of them, together.
"I'm surprised your shower head hasn't cracked yet," Sungyeol continued, rubbing deep into Woohyun's bare shoulders and leaning down, his hair tickling Woohyun's skin, his smell wafting over and -- well.
Woohyun turned around, raised himself up on his elbows, and manoeuvred around Sungyeol's face -- surprise, confusion, hope flashing through his eyes -- until he was too close to look at Sungyeol without going cross-eyed. He kissed Sungyeol.
It was only a kiss, lips against tightly-pressed lips, but for a fleeting moment Sungyeol moved forward, loosening his mouth to fit around Woohyun's. Then he snapped away, a snarl marring his otherwise usually attractive face.
"I told you, you piece of shit," Sungyeol snapped, words acerbic. "I told you not to --"
"Just let me explain!" Woohyun said, desperate, erection wilting, fucking fucking fuck --
"What's there to explain?" Sungyeol shouted, red in the face now, backing out of the door. "This was all a ploy to get me in your bed, wasn't it? Tired of girls, aren't you? News flash, I'm not your fucking lab rat, and at least have the decency to hide your erection!" He slammed the door shut.
"Well I hope you have fun at work!" Woohyun shouted after him. "Seeing as it'll be one of your last days!"
The front door slammed. Outside, Risky whined piteously, and Woohyun grabbed a pillow and tossed it at a wall.
"My life is so unfair," Woohyun moaned.
"It is," Sunggyu agreed.
"This is when you're supposed to say, "Oh, Woohyun, tell me all about it, I'm always here to listen and give advice"," Woohyun said irritably. "You're a lousy friend."
"So are you," Sunggyu said mildly, shifting piles of paper around. "What is it, then?"
"You just can't resist, can you?" Woohyun teased, and deflated. These days, he no longer had the energy to put up his usual air of haughtiness -- what was the purpose of that when Sungyeol wasn't around to appreciate it? Not that he was pining for Sungyeol's presence, of course, although that did explain a lot.
"No, I really can't," Sunggyu said sarcastically. "Would you like to be my best man?"
Woohyun's brain kicked the bucket. He stared at Sunggyu, opened his mouth, and waited for his brain to give his mouth further instructions. Finally, he uttered hoarsely, "You're kidding."
"I chose the bowl of popcorn," Sunggyu said. "She emptied it over my head in her excitement. I think it went pretty well!"
"You -- you - when’s the wedding?"
"Next month."
Woohyun sagged with relief. "Good, I don't have to worry about renting a tux till then. Anyway. Back to my life."
"Oh, what tragedies have befallen you yet again, my friend?" Sunggyu asked, in the vocal equivalent of an eye roll.
"Sungyeol isn't speaking to me again."
"Again? Lovers' tiff?"
"Shut up. I'm not gay, I told you."
"Could this by any chance have something to do with Sungyeol's inexplicable crush on you?"
"You know?" Woohyun asked incredulously. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? You've been in cahoots with Sungyeol, haven't you. I feel betrayed. Betrayed!"
"Stop being such a girl about this," Sunggyu had the audacity to say. Woohyun very nearly knocked an eyeball out of his sockets. "He told me after he moved in with you."
"My life," Woohyun groaned. "What are you, his new best friend? Wait, did he come to you on Tuesday?"
"Why?"
"What did he tell you?"
"I'd have to kill you to tell you," Sunggyu joked.
"You're growing old, hyung; what happened to originality?" Woohyun demanded. "If he comes back, tell him to stop avoiding me."
"And you can't do that yourself," Sunggyu said, looking dubious.
"Obviously not," Woohyun exclaimed. "He'd rearrange my face if I did!"
"Really," Sunggyu said, squinting at him. His eyes all but vanished.
"Do not underestimate the talents of Sungyeol's fingers," Woohyun said seriously.
Sunggyu made a face. "Spare me the details of your filthy sex escapades --"
"HYUNG," Woohyun exploded. "SHUT UP, THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR --"
"What is going on?" someone asked, opening the back room's door.
"Oh, it's you," Woohyun said numbly, and stared at Sungyeol. Sungyeol stared back.
"Oh, it's you," Sungyeol said icily, and proceeded to retrace his steps backwards.
"See what I mean?" Woohyun asked, when the door had closed.
Sunggyu shook his head. "Can't help you," he said. "At least tell me what's going on?"
Scribbled on another post-it note, secured by a magnet designed to look like a zebra on the fridge:
can we talk?
"Okay," Sungyeol said, entering Woohyun's bedroom that Sunday. "Merry Christmas. Let's talk."
Woohyun snapped his book shut, placed it on his bed, and opened his mouth.
If this was a comedy, Woohyun thought, crickets would start chirping.
"You're right," he croaked, when cricket noises did not seem forthcoming. "I'm a horrible, horrible person."
"You look the part too," Sungyeol commented, some of his old humour trickling back, and Woohyun nearly wept in relief. Keyword: nearly. He wasn't quite as desperate as that.
"Shut up," Woohyun bulldozed on. "You have no idea how much of my pride that cost me."
"Unfathomable," Sungyeol agreed.
"I can't deny anything," Woohyun said, aware that he was fighting a losing battle, and wasn't that apt? It had always been losing battles for him. "But --" he closed his eyes, forced his ego down and his heart back up, and said, "Can you give me half a year?"
"I don't follow you," Sungyeol said carefully.
"I do, truly, like you," Woohyun said, trying not to cough on his words. He felt oddly like screaming BACK AWAY and waving around a white flag. "Give me six months, Sungyeol. If by then I'm still a, ahem, flaming homosexual fighting the urge to throw you on my bed and fuck you into the mattress, and you're still single and open, of course, could you -- would you consider, uh, you know --"
"I was under the impression that you never wanted to try gay sex ever," Sungyeol said, and trust him to pick up on the most insignificant part of Woohyun's apology, fuck it.
"Yes, well," Woohyun said, shifting uncomfortably. "Love is love, sex is sex."
"Using my words on me again, I see."
"Could you just --"
"Sure, Woohyun," Sungyeol said, sounding uncomfortable himself. "This means no kissing till then."
"Not even a massage?" Woohyun asked, dismayed.
"I can be flexible with the rules, can't I?" Sungyeol said, cracking a grin.
"Be my guest," Woohyun said, looking at him through hooded eyes and receiving a derisive snort from Sungyeol for his efforts.
Epilogue:
"Sungyeol."
"What?"
"Quit watching porn."
"Just because I'm extremely attached to the iPhone I bought with the money I earned from being a fantastic actor does not mean I, uh -- what? This sentence has gotten too long for me."
"I lost my focus halfway through, honestly."
"I'm not watching porn, Woohyun."
"What month is it?"
"June?"
"The 25th. I think you owe me something."
"Can I pretend I don't know what you're talking about?"
"No. I know you've been anticipating this day with bated breath. Who wouldn't?"
"If your ego inflated any further, you'd be floating."
"Assuming my ego is made of helium?"
"... yes."
"Bullshit. C'mere."
"I feel like it's my responsibility to tell you that gay sex does not have to involve rimming."
"What?"
"Rimming. You know, tongue in asshole --"
"OKAY. UNDERSTOOD. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to delay the inevitable! I can't imagine why."
"My legs are numb, Woohyun. I can't move them."
"Oh, I see. You want me to make the first move, is that it?"
"Why'd you insist on sprawling out on my mattress, anyway? The couch is where you lounge, not my bed."
"You're never going to be sleeping here again, you know."
"It's not like we're getting married. Promise me never to act like Sunggyu-hyung around his wife, man, I almost choked trying to control my gagging."
"You're sleeping in my bed from tonight onwards."
"Can Risky take the couch?"
"No."
"But -- wow, okay, personal space, Woohyun! I -- mmm."
"..."
"..."
"Your tongue is fantastic, fuck."
"Can't say the same for you."
"Oh?"
"Oh -- mmm."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Don’t you need to breathe?"
"You stole my breath away, Sungyeol."
THE END
A grouchy Sungyeol, as it happened, was neither a Sungyeol to mess with, nor a good idea to interrogate while his "brain felt misplaced" in the following morning of a drunken night.
"I can't hear myself thinking," Sungyeol groaned, gulping Advil down with a glass of water. "It hurts so much my jaw hurts."
"You don't ever think," Woohyun snapped. "Don't disappear like that."
"I couldn't have brought you along anyway," Sungyeol fired back.
"Why?" Woohyun demanded, stung. "Where did you go?"
Sungyeol clammed up. "Out."
"I know you were out, dumbass; where were you?"
"Why do you care?" Sungyeol snapped, throwing his glass into the sink with enough force to crack the rim. Woohyun stiffened in annoyance.
Because he was worried; because Sungyeol was part of his life now; because he cared; fuck it. "Don't change the topic; all I want to know is --"
"A bar, alright?" Sungyeol snapped, wincing briefly and touching his temple. "A gay bar, okay; yes, that's right, you should look shocked, Woohyun, I am gay, and that's not normal, will never be normal, but -- but I'm still a man, so don't -- don't fuck around pretending you can, I don't know, mess around with me --"
"I never --"
"You do, you do; you give my observational skills too little credit, and I'm not -- I'm not going to play right into whatever the fuck your ego has in plan, alright --"
"Listen --"
"Your fucking ego is fucking colossal and I'm not a girl, Woohyun, and I know you're straight, alright, despite what Sunggyu-hyung says --"
Woohyun's brain took a moment to process this information. "Wait, you and --"
"It's not about him and -- fuck, Woohyun, are you even listening to me?"
"If you'd just --"
"No, no, I'm done listening, alright? This is my home now, and this is me laying my ground rules, and you should be fucking glad I'm not making you listen to this in the freezing cold --"
"Shut up," Woohyun said, taking Sungyeol by the shoulders and very nearly shaking him for how hard he was vibrating with poorly suppressed anger. "Shut up."
"NO, I WILL NOT SHUT UP," Sungyeol yelled into his face, features screwed up into an expression of sheer, brilliant, white-hot anger. "IT'S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE I TOLD YOU, WOOHYUN, AND FRANKLY IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME I MIGHT HAVE TO MOVE OUT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Woohyun's grip on Sungyeol's shoulders tightened, but he glared up at Sungyeol's face and cricked his neck. "Fine," he said, "Fine. Say what you wish."
Sungyeol swallowed and closed his eyes for a short moment. When he opened them, his eyes were watery, but steely and determined all the same. "I have a boyfriend," he started, whispered it, really, and that -- that was a lie.
"Liar," Woohyun said calmly.
"Fuck, listen to me, you asshole, don't you think I don't already know that? I pretended to have a boyfriend, Woohyun, and initially that was a fabrication to convince you to let me stay, but then you go and act jealous and start hitting on me and -- and how was I supposed to take that? Fuck, I'm going to kill Myungsoo," Sungyeol said, looking on the whole like an explosive that had reached the end of its line.
"Please do," Woohyun agreed, but inside he was a turmoil of fuck fuck fuck and what? and I can't believe this is happening.
"Look, see?" Sungyeol said, looking upset on top of looking furious. "You say things like that and we watch porn together but you're straight and I'm gay and it's just -- just, you can't do things like this without giving me ideas, and I'd much rather continue living life knowing you'll never return my feelings for you -- oh, fuck, you didn't hear that, I didn't say that, Woohyun, please, I know you're just playing around, alright? I'm just -- single, okay, have always been, will probably forever be -- fuck, my head hurts, can I go mope around in bed now?"
Woohyun opened his mouth, closed it, and wondered if boys would react like girls if he pulled Sungyeol in for a kiss right now. Sungyeol would probably sock him in the face and kiss him back.
"You're doing that... Lego thing again," Sungyeol said, trying to squirm himself free from Woohyun's hands, and oh that's what last night's monologue was about --
"I'm okay," Woohyun said. "I mean, I'm okay with your, uh, feelings. I think I... um," he closed his eyes, tried to call his usual arrogance back, "I'm not surprised, really, who can resist me?" It was a poor attempt, but Sungyeol looked slightly better, and so he pulled Sungyeol in by the shoulders and drew him in for a hug, arms slipping down to hold him by the waist for comfort.
Sungyeol stood, stock-still, until Woohyun heard him breathe a sigh of relief into his hair, felt him extricate his arms from Woohyun's embrace -- and for a moment, he thought Sungyeol was trying to get away -- but Sungyeol only wrapped his arms around Woohyun's shoulders and gave his back a few hearty thumps, and said, "Our dicks are pressed together; aren't you grossed out?"
"Shut up, you're ruining our moment," Woohyun said into Sungyeol's shoulder, enjoying the way the fabric of Sungyeol's shirt scratched his lips, enjoying how snugly they fit together, enjoying the feeling of Sungyeol's waist beneath his arms. Wiry.
"A very gay moment," Sungyeol pointed out, shaking in his laughter. "Ugh, get off."
"I'm not, you know," Woohyun said, suddenly overwhelmed by Sungyeol, his scent, fuck, his body, all hard lines and angles and lean muscles. He inhaled hard, and he smelled so good, like detergent and shampoo -- a glorious mixture of many brands, Sungyeol once told him -- and an incredible, unnameable smell that Woohyun suspected came straight from within Sungyeol's body.
"Not gay?" Sungyeol said, snorting. "That's good, anyway -- who knows what kinds of things two gays cohabiting could get up to?"
Woohyun felt a pleasant surge of heat down south, and quickly directed his focus to the physically unfeasible act of removing his body parts from Sungyeol.
"I got cast in a TV drama, by the way," Sungyeol said, completely oblivious to Woohyun's admittedly half-hearted attempts. "It's not much but it's a start."
"That's great," Woohyun said gloomily. "I hope it works out for you like it didn't work out for me."
"Don't be such a downer," Sungyeol scolded. Woohyun kind of really liked the vibrations of his voice on his shoulder, and he pressed closer, giving up entirely on the whole Extricate Self From Sungyeol mission.
"I just," Woohyun started, wondering if he should tell Sungyeol, if he should divulge this little insecurity he'd held so long and dear in his heart to a man who possibly liked him, whose leaving would probably shatter him and dig his soul out and leave him to walk this earth as a flimsy shell of human skin and broken pieces of his heart. "I'm always losing things."
"Absentmindedness?" One of Sungyeol's hands began to rub circles on Woohyun's back, and fuck his hands felt amazing.
"No," Woohyun said, almost biting his tongue when Sungyeol hit a tender knot in his muscles, "No, I, uh... oh, fuck, don't stop, fuck that's good, right there -- what was I saying?"
"Losing things," Sungyeol reminded, working both hands now, kneading and just -- doing illegal things to Woohyun's back muscles until Woohyun was pressed entirely against him, nose almost squashed up against Sungyeol's neck. Every breath nearly sent him to the floor in ecstasy.
"Right," Woohyun said, trying fruitlessly to tone down his body's reactions. "Right, uh, I trained at Woolim Entertainment for a while as a singer, but six months in they kicked me out. Six fucking months, Sungyeol, that's like... half a year, god, did you work as a masseuse in your hometown or something, I can't think with your hands doing that and that, that's great, don't ever stop -- don't you have work this morning?"
"Took leave today," Sungyeol said, "In celebration of my first casting! Sunggyu-hyung protested like a mad man at first, but he agreed in the end. He's secretly a softie on the inside. And I never worked as a masseuse but I massaged my mother really often." He sounded wistful.
Woohyun watched in fascination as Sungyeol swallowed, Adam's apple moving almost violently beneath his throat. "You should," he said throatily, and swallowed as well. "Well, no, you should be my masseuse. I'm not sharing your services."
"How flattering," Sungyeol said drily, and jabbed vehemently at a knot in Woohyun's back. "Should we bring this to the bed?"
"Be my guest," Woohyun said, leaning away and shooting Sungyeol his best attempt at bedroom eyes. "Fuck, this really is a gay moment, isn't it."
Sungyeol suddenly looked defensive. "I'm not --" he began.
"Shut up," Woohyun interrupted, "I'm pretending I didn't hear anything about feelings and all that. Hurry, quick, my back muscles yearn your touch."
"Maybe you should let go of me first," Sungyeol suggested. "Idiot."
"Right," Woohyun said, taking his arms back, "I knew that. I was going to."
"Right," Sungyeol said.
"No time for small talk," Woohyun told him, walking away. "Bed, now."
"Asshole."
"Don't you wish!"
"Oh, I should never have told you," Sungyeol groaned, walking tentatively into Woohyun's bedroom. Woohyun shooed Risky off his bed and clambered onto it, belly down, stomach squirming in barely concealed anticipation. Sungyeol, on his bed, looming over him with his hands all over his body -- that was definitely going to be one of Woohyun's next fantasies to jerk off to.
"I await your filthy acts of pleasure-giving," Woohyun said around a mouthful of pillow.
"You do realise I'm gay, don't you," Sungyeol said flatly, standing over Woohyun. "Did you even listen to me at all, just now?"
"'Course I did," Woohyun said impatiently. "I'm not hitting on you, I'm being my usual charming self."
"Really," Sungyeol said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "You were never like this before." He sat down on Woohyun's bed.
Woohyun twisted his face to look up at him. Sungyeol's features were drawn into the strangest of expressions -- calculating, worried, hopeful. "I didn't like you before," Woohyun said, feeling slightly guilty. "I like you now."
Sungyeol laughed, lips pulling back to reveal teeth and gum, a heavy sound rolling waves of discomfort down Woohyun's back. "I never liked you at all," he joked, smoothing his palms over Woohyun's shoulders.
"You know what the first thing I told Sunggyu-hyung was, after your first night? "I'm going to kill Sungyeol"," Woohyun said, closing his eyes. "I still want to kill you sometimes."
"Believe me, I know how you feel," Sungyeol said, rubbing his thumbs into his shoulders and working downwards.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Woohyun occasionally muffling an "ow" when Sungyeol hit a tender area, and by the time Sungyeol reached the base of his spine, his shirt had ridden up. Sungyeol's fingers slipped onto his skin, icy cold but rubbing warmth into his muscles anyway, and Woohyun barely managed to swallow a yelp. He pressed his hips against the bed, revelled in the slight shock of pleasure, and realised belatedly he'd gotten a hard-on during Sungyeol's massage.
It was a -- it was a fucking turn-on, was what it was, Sungyeol's hands slipping up under his shirt and bringing the massage to entirely new levels of intimacy. Woohyun subtly pressed his hips down again, biting his tongue and turning his face away from Sungyeol. There was something highly questionably about this -- humping his bed while Sungyeol went on obliviously, massaging him, hands everywhere, and sometimes when he bent down to reach Woohyun's shoulders he could smell Sungyeol, the pleasant mixture of scents surrounding him. Fuck.
"You want to take your shirt off?" Sungyeol asked, pressing his long, long fingers into another sensitive spot.
"Oh fuck do that again," Woohyun stuttered, shuddering and pulling his shirt off with wobbly hands.
Sungyeol complied, and Woohyun jerked his hips involuntarily, biting back a moan. He swallowed instead and tried to speak, to distract himself from Sungyeol's fucking fantastic fingers against his skin, to repress his ridiculous urges that involved copious amounts of tonsil hockey and lip action, and maybe a long bout of love confessions. "I, ahem, I was kicked out of Woolim," Woohyun said. "I was talking about this earlier before you distracted me --"
"Me distract you?" Sungyeol interrupted. "You wanted this."
"Yeah, whatever, don't get all technical on me," Woohyun said. "As I was saying, I'd invested a lot of time and effort in training, and my parents had sacrificed lots for it, and the company -- they kicked me out, just like that. No apologies. I wasn't good-looking enough, or good enough in general." Sungyeol's hands wavered and Woohyun shifted impatiently. "So I lost that, and then I lost my parents' happiness -- they're still disappointed with, I don't know, me -- and I've never been able to keep a girlfriend, and. Yeah, that's it. It's not so bad." Except for the fact that it was.
"Oh," Sungyeol said. "I don't blame Woollim, your singing has affected my ear drums in ways that cannot be explained or healed."
"You're fantastic at this comforting business," Woohyun said drily.
"I am, aren't I?" Sungyeol asked airily. "I'm fantastic in whatever I do, really."
But, honestly speaking, he was glad for Sungyeol's nasty brand of humour -- it made everything duller, less painful, and even better than it really was, somehow. Sungyeol had been a true friend, a companion, a fellow soldier in their wars of verbal attacks, and Sungyeol -- he was never the enemy, was he? He was, always was, a comrade, going through and discussing battle plans with Woohyun. It had always been the two of them, together.
"I'm surprised your shower head hasn't cracked yet," Sungyeol continued, rubbing deep into Woohyun's bare shoulders and leaning down, his hair tickling Woohyun's skin, his smell wafting over and -- well.
Woohyun turned around, raised himself up on his elbows, and manoeuvred around Sungyeol's face -- surprise, confusion, hope flashing through his eyes -- until he was too close to look at Sungyeol without going cross-eyed. He kissed Sungyeol.
It was only a kiss, lips against tightly-pressed lips, but for a fleeting moment Sungyeol moved forward, loosening his mouth to fit around Woohyun's. Then he snapped away, a snarl marring his otherwise usually attractive face.
"I told you, you piece of shit," Sungyeol snapped, words acerbic. "I told you not to --"
"Just let me explain!" Woohyun said, desperate, erection wilting, fucking fucking fuck --
"What's there to explain?" Sungyeol shouted, red in the face now, backing out of the door. "This was all a ploy to get me in your bed, wasn't it? Tired of girls, aren't you? News flash, I'm not your fucking lab rat, and at least have the decency to hide your erection!" He slammed the door shut.
"Well I hope you have fun at work!" Woohyun shouted after him. "Seeing as it'll be one of your last days!"
The front door slammed. Outside, Risky whined piteously, and Woohyun grabbed a pillow and tossed it at a wall.
"My life is so unfair," Woohyun moaned.
"It is," Sunggyu agreed.
"This is when you're supposed to say, "Oh, Woohyun, tell me all about it, I'm always here to listen and give advice"," Woohyun said irritably. "You're a lousy friend."
"So are you," Sunggyu said mildly, shifting piles of paper around. "What is it, then?"
"You just can't resist, can you?" Woohyun teased, and deflated. These days, he no longer had the energy to put up his usual air of haughtiness -- what was the purpose of that when Sungyeol wasn't around to appreciate it? Not that he was pining for Sungyeol's presence, of course, although that did explain a lot.
"No, I really can't," Sunggyu said sarcastically. "Would you like to be my best man?"
Woohyun's brain kicked the bucket. He stared at Sunggyu, opened his mouth, and waited for his brain to give his mouth further instructions. Finally, he uttered hoarsely, "You're kidding."
"I chose the bowl of popcorn," Sunggyu said. "She emptied it over my head in her excitement. I think it went pretty well!"
"You -- you - when’s the wedding?"
"Next month."
Woohyun sagged with relief. "Good, I don't have to worry about renting a tux till then. Anyway. Back to my life."
"Oh, what tragedies have befallen you yet again, my friend?" Sunggyu asked, in the vocal equivalent of an eye roll.
"Sungyeol isn't speaking to me again."
"Again? Lovers' tiff?"
"Shut up. I'm not gay, I told you."
"Could this by any chance have something to do with Sungyeol's inexplicable crush on you?"
"You know?" Woohyun asked incredulously. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? You've been in cahoots with Sungyeol, haven't you. I feel betrayed. Betrayed!"
"Stop being such a girl about this," Sunggyu had the audacity to say. Woohyun very nearly knocked an eyeball out of his sockets. "He told me after he moved in with you."
"My life," Woohyun groaned. "What are you, his new best friend? Wait, did he come to you on Tuesday?"
"Why?"
"What did he tell you?"
"I'd have to kill you to tell you," Sunggyu joked.
"You're growing old, hyung; what happened to originality?" Woohyun demanded. "If he comes back, tell him to stop avoiding me."
"And you can't do that yourself," Sunggyu said, looking dubious.
"Obviously not," Woohyun exclaimed. "He'd rearrange my face if I did!"
"Really," Sunggyu said, squinting at him. His eyes all but vanished.
"Do not underestimate the talents of Sungyeol's fingers," Woohyun said seriously.
Sunggyu made a face. "Spare me the details of your filthy sex escapades --"
"HYUNG," Woohyun exploded. "SHUT UP, THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR --"
"What is going on?" someone asked, opening the back room's door.
"Oh, it's you," Woohyun said numbly, and stared at Sungyeol. Sungyeol stared back.
"Oh, it's you," Sungyeol said icily, and proceeded to retrace his steps backwards.
"See what I mean?" Woohyun asked, when the door had closed.
Sunggyu shook his head. "Can't help you," he said. "At least tell me what's going on?"
Scribbled on another post-it note, secured by a magnet designed to look like a zebra on the fridge:
can we talk?
"Okay," Sungyeol said, entering Woohyun's bedroom that Sunday. "Merry Christmas. Let's talk."
Woohyun snapped his book shut, placed it on his bed, and opened his mouth.
If this was a comedy, Woohyun thought, crickets would start chirping.
"You're right," he croaked, when cricket noises did not seem forthcoming. "I'm a horrible, horrible person."
"You look the part too," Sungyeol commented, some of his old humour trickling back, and Woohyun nearly wept in relief. Keyword: nearly. He wasn't quite as desperate as that.
"Shut up," Woohyun bulldozed on. "You have no idea how much of my pride that cost me."
"Unfathomable," Sungyeol agreed.
"I can't deny anything," Woohyun said, aware that he was fighting a losing battle, and wasn't that apt? It had always been losing battles for him. "But --" he closed his eyes, forced his ego down and his heart back up, and said, "Can you give me half a year?"
"I don't follow you," Sungyeol said carefully.
"I do, truly, like you," Woohyun said, trying not to cough on his words. He felt oddly like screaming BACK AWAY and waving around a white flag. "Give me six months, Sungyeol. If by then I'm still a, ahem, flaming homosexual fighting the urge to throw you on my bed and fuck you into the mattress, and you're still single and open, of course, could you -- would you consider, uh, you know --"
"I was under the impression that you never wanted to try gay sex ever," Sungyeol said, and trust him to pick up on the most insignificant part of Woohyun's apology, fuck it.
"Yes, well," Woohyun said, shifting uncomfortably. "Love is love, sex is sex."
"Using my words on me again, I see."
"Could you just --"
"Sure, Woohyun," Sungyeol said, sounding uncomfortable himself. "This means no kissing till then."
"Not even a massage?" Woohyun asked, dismayed.
"I can be flexible with the rules, can't I?" Sungyeol said, cracking a grin.
"Be my guest," Woohyun said, looking at him through hooded eyes and receiving a derisive snort from Sungyeol for his efforts.
Epilogue:
"Sungyeol."
"What?"
"Quit watching porn."
"Just because I'm extremely attached to the iPhone I bought with the money I earned from being a fantastic actor does not mean I, uh -- what? This sentence has gotten too long for me."
"I lost my focus halfway through, honestly."
"I'm not watching porn, Woohyun."
"What month is it?"
"June?"
"The 25th. I think you owe me something."
"Can I pretend I don't know what you're talking about?"
"No. I know you've been anticipating this day with bated breath. Who wouldn't?"
"If your ego inflated any further, you'd be floating."
"Assuming my ego is made of helium?"
"... yes."
"Bullshit. C'mere."
"I feel like it's my responsibility to tell you that gay sex does not have to involve rimming."
"What?"
"Rimming. You know, tongue in asshole --"
"OKAY. UNDERSTOOD. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to delay the inevitable! I can't imagine why."
"My legs are numb, Woohyun. I can't move them."
"Oh, I see. You want me to make the first move, is that it?"
"Why'd you insist on sprawling out on my mattress, anyway? The couch is where you lounge, not my bed."
"You're never going to be sleeping here again, you know."
"It's not like we're getting married. Promise me never to act like Sunggyu-hyung around his wife, man, I almost choked trying to control my gagging."
"You're sleeping in my bed from tonight onwards."
"Can Risky take the couch?"
"No."
"But -- wow, okay, personal space, Woohyun! I -- mmm."
"..."
"..."
"Your tongue is fantastic, fuck."
"Can't say the same for you."
"Oh?"
"Oh -- mmm."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Don’t you need to breathe?"
"You stole my breath away, Sungyeol."
THE END