The Theories of Kissing, Madness, And All That Which Is In Between (1/2)
First off, I REALLY DID NOT EXPECT TO WRITE SOMETHING THIS MASSIVE. I've been working on this for the past couple months as a form of stress relief, as well as something to soften the blow of The K-Pop Withdrawal, so when I transferred everything from my iPhone (how I didn't delete it by accident is an unfathomable miracle) to Word, well.
ANYWAY, major props to hotarumyst, who beta-ed this MASSIVE COLOSSAL THING. Her feedback is worthy of the most precious of gems, and as the queen of run-on sentences I must bow to her. If not for Kelley, half of this would not be coherent, and the other half would not be consistent. She also managed to whip my Jinyoung into character, thank god. Oof.
Title: The Theories of Kissing, Madness, And All That Which Is In Between
Pairing: Baro/Sandeul
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Very vague allusions to bulimia
Word Count: 16,570
Summary: In the midst of a very serious battle between Junghwan’s sanity and Sunwoo’s sexuality, Junghwan must come to terms with his unseemly attraction to his best friend, and partner-in-crime, before he loses it.
"Oh, wow," Sunwoo says.
Ordinarily, when Sunwoo admits awe of any kind, bad things follow. This is, in no uncertain terms, an extraordinary situation.
Stumbling around his bedroom with his elbows locked in his sleeves, Junghwan tries to communicate his need for assistance. Given as he's all but blinded by his shirt, and bunk beds can be very pointy when approached without purpose, Junghwan wobbles in Sunwoo's general direction. He tries to say "help!", but succeeds only in squawking through his shirt.
It seems to drive the point home anyway, because Sunwoo finally stops snorting like the pig he is. Junghwan feels his fingers tug at his shirt collar, although that prove to be useless in the grand scheme of things. Starting to laugh again, Sunwoo backs Junghwan to the bed. There is a solid thunk of Junghwan’s head hitting the top bunk, but he can't be sure that isn’t just Sunwoo's sheer idiocy taking on a more solid form.
"Stop struggling or I’ll leave you here. Like this," Junghwan hears Sunwoo threaten through layers of thick, irritating fabric.
Junghwan opens his mouth to hurl something offending about Sunwoo's dick, but is stopped again by the shirt attacking him in the mouth. He stops flinging his elbows about anyway.
Quieting, Sunwoo grabs the bottom of the shirt and pulls. And pulls. He pulls some more, grunting, and then Junghwan hears something tear. He barely has the time to think whoops, there goes this month's allowance before he's on his back, staring dazedly at the planks supporting the top bunk. His brain starts to register the change from colourful, menacing fabric to solid, wooden planks.
"You've been working out," Sunwoo says appreciatively, somewhere off in the distance. Junghwan snaps back to reality.
"Thanks," he says breathlessly, and promptly receives a face-full of shirt.
"What for, the compliment or the stripping?"
"Both. And that wasn't a compliment, it was a -- an observation. Accurate. If it was a compliment you'd be going on about the glorious lines of my, uh, muscles, so, really, that wasn't a --"
“Glorious lines?" Sunwoo echoes, and snorts again. "No, your stomach looks like a bloated whale."
"Yours is no better," Junghwan retorts, flinging the shirt off his torso.
"And how would you know? Been spying on me showering again?" Sunwoo attempts a look of severe scrutiny and ends up looking constipated. "You like that, don't you?"
Impropriety is how they roll. "I get off it every night," Junghwan says drily.
"That's right," Sunwoo agrees, grinning madly and advancing. Junghwan remains lying on the bed, because moving to sit upright would show his discomfort, and until someone admits defeat it's a game of sexual barbs between them, and anyway he'll probably hit his head on the top bunk (again) sitting up. He'd really rather spare himself the humiliation.
"I spy on you washing your back through the keyhole and imagine myself washing your back for you," Junghwan continues, "Only so I don't have to look at the rolls of your belly fat."
"What's this then?" Sunwoo taunts, leaning over Junghwan in a pitiful stab at looking ominous and pinching his belly. At this proximity Junghwan can see both of his canines in the corners of his grin. Not that they are any concern of his.
Junghwan squirms, but otherwise holds his front. "That's your imagination."
"Oh?" Sunwoo palms Junghwan's stomach, planting an elbow next to Junghwan's head in another attempt at being menacing. His nose only just touches Junghwan’s. Snorting, Junghwan tries not to think about the warmth of Sunwoo's hand. "You should compare yours to mine," Sunwoo says, and takes Junghwan's hand to bring it beneath his shirt.
Junghwan's brain immediately starts giving off a variety of warning bells that sound a lot like GIVE UP NOW and FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HETEROSEXUAL DON'T DO IT. They also sound like Sunwoo at his peak of insufferableness. So, of course, he pays no heed to them.
"You're tensing your muscles," Junghwan says bravely. "That's cheating. Are you trying to impress me with your manliness? Because I'm not. Impressed."
"Of course not," Sunwoo says sharply. "This is a perfectly honourable battle of masculinity. Nothing to do with that. The only impression I'm trying to give is that you're a bloated whale and I'm the very definition of a Greek god."
Sunwoo's breath smells very nice. Wait. Junghwan's brain unwillingly forces itself back to the battle at hand. It's a battle of pride! A matter not to be taken lightly!
Junghwan curls his fingers, dragging his nails softly against skin and muscle. Sunwoo draws in a sharp breath. He releases Junghwan's hand, spreading his hand on Junghwan's stomach again, a bit lower this time. Junghwan feels a jolt at his nether regions, which is -- what.
"'Greek god' my ass," Junghwan blurts, and Sunwoo looks a bit confused. "Attractive Asian man, maybe, but that's a bit too exaggerated. Look at Siwon from Super Junior. Now that's --"
"Shut up," Sunwoo growls, and his thumb brushes Junghwan's waistband. Oh. Maybe that's crossing the line. The warning bells are starting to sound a lot less like Sunwoo and more like Junghwan's mother, telling him it's okay to be violent with boys but keep a firm hold of yourself, please, and stay natural. Natural means heterosexual, which pretty much means lying in bed with his best friend on top of him with hands in bad places is something worthy of a long lecture and that Look of Disappointment his mother is so fond of making. Damn.
Junghwan's just about to give the hand beneath Sunwoo's shirt the mental encouragement to push Sunwoo away when the door bangs open. Sunwoo jumps away from Junghwan at the speed of a hurtling train.
Dongwoo glares at them both and says, "Your socks and shoes are on the bathroom floor. Put them away."
"Yes, mother," Sunwoo says.
Dongwoo looks at him suspiciously, then at Junghwan lying half-naked on the bed, and then at somewhere on the floor, presumably where the shirt was flung. Junghwan cringes and opens his mouth to tell Dongwoo it's not what it looks like.
"There is such a thing as a laundry basket," Dongwoo says exasperatedly.
All eyes turn to the shirt that had started this entire mess.
"Alright, mother," Sunwoo says again, shooing Dongwoo out of the room. "Out you go. Have fun using the washing machine or something."
"Your shoes --" Dongwoo tries. Sunwoo closes the door in his face.
"You're welcome," Sunwoo says to Junghwan, like nothing's happened.
Junghwan blinks perplexedly.
Sunwoo turns, opens the door, and leaves, presumably to get the shoes and socks out of the bathroom.
One of the wonderful, and perhaps only, things about riding in company vans is the sleep. Since Junghwan can't sing or dance or run around in moving vehicles unless suffering from the irrational desire of stupidity to have Jinyoung's fist planted in his face, he sleeps.
On Sunwoo's shoulder.
Sunwoo makes a good sleeping shoulder. His shoulders are broad, but they don't make a point of being pointed like Chansik's and Jinyoung's, and Dongwoo's typically vibrates with discomfort whenever Junghwan lies against him. By order of omission, Sunwoo has the best sleeping shoulders.
On the other hand, Sunwoo can't stop talking and moving about for less than five minutes, so it is not rare for Junghwan to end up nodding off in every sense of the word and knocking his head against the window once in a while. Eventually, anyhow, after Sunwoo tires of bouncing around and being a general nuisance to everyone in the vehicle, he usually takes pity on poor Junghwan and leans over to yank his head (often angled precariously towards the window) down to his shoulder.
Thus, when Junghwan wakes up, neck prickling uncomfortably, he's lying on Sunwoo's broad, not-pointy shoulder, and Sunwoo has his head resting against the top of Junghwan's head, which is just as well. It makes a win-win situation.
That is, of course, until Junghwan becomes painfully aware of the part of his head that feels very wet, and very uncomfortable.
Junghwan elbows Sunwoo in the ribs and ducks away, leaving him to splutter awake.
"Hey!" Sunwoo cries, rubbing his side. "That hurts."
"Imagine how I must feel, then, having your drool all over my scalp," Junghwan says, picking at his hair. "Uck," he emphasises. "Eeyuck."
Sunwoo looks interested. "Really? I never drool."
"You must have very salivary intentions for me."
Sunwoo waggles his eyebrows. He looks fairly demented when he does that. Junghwan tells him so.
"Bedroom eyes, you idiot," Sunwoo says. "These are my bedroom eyes."
Speaking of which. Suddenly remembering his mother's insistence on being natural, Junghwan says, "Nothing below the belt next time, please."
Sunwoo looks aghast at Junghwan's request, which is odd, really. Junghwan thinks he makes a ton of sense more than Sunwoo on his best days.
"Don't say it like that," Sunwoo tells him, looking every which way around the van and acting very atypical of his usual self. "Someone could hear."
"But we have nothing to hide," Junghwan says blithely.
"Yes, well," Sunwoo says, and stays peculiarly silent for the rest of their journey. He lets Junghwan sleep on his shoulder though, so he can't say he minds much.
They're quarrelling. Sunwoo's being a royal pain in the ass again, nothing new, and spouting all sorts of nonsense Junghwan only half-understands because he's too busy being alarmed, but when he says as much Sunwoo only gets angrier. With anger comes boldness.
"I'd take being a royal pain in the ass over a dead corpse on the floor any day!" Sunwoo shouts, backing Junghwan into the wall.
Junghwan isn't quite sure why Sunwoo has to raise his voice -- hell, he hasn't a single clue why Sunwoo's all riled up.
"A corpse is already dead," Junghwan points out, trying for meek. "You don't have to use --"
"Don't be technical with me," Sunwoo says, incensed, jabbing a finger into Junghwan's rather unremarkable chest with all the intensity of a searing hot poker.
"It's all a misunderstanding --" Junghwan tries, because if he doesn't know what they're fighting about then it means Sunwoo's gone and jumped to erroneous conclusions again, and it is his job to hammer at least an ounce of sense into Sunwoo's impenetrable helmet of a skull.
"I know what I saw," Sunwoo breathes, all up in Junghwan's face. Junghwan is getting rather tired of being the only sensible person in the room, and hopes Jinyoung will come in soon with his hands of fury and glares of doom to sort Sunwoo out. "You're an idiot, you know. I don't know why I like you so much, especially when you're just a walking talking representation of oblivion on two legs --"
"Shut up," Junghwan snarls, because when Sunwoo starts hurling personal insults, he's mostly through with his argument and is riding only on emotions, logic be damned. "Your insults would work better, you know, if I knew what you were talking about." He pauses, watching Sunwoo's face. "Which I don't," he adds, in case Sunwoo’s still stuck in his own world.
Sunwoo starts looking aggrieved, his forehead creasing and his eyes going all kicked-puppy, even though he's barely a moment away from spitting fire. "I knew this would happen," he says, "I knew it. You're still denying it, why --"
"Look," Junghwan interrupts. "I've just had a bad case of food poisoning and I'm feeling quite unwell, so if you'd get out of my way and maybe out of my life forever and never return, I would appreciate it. Really. Maybe you could send postcards! Go away."
Sunwoo only presses him back into the wall. "What did you say?" he asks, sounding puzzled and strangely not-angry. Huh. Maybe Junghwan's said something miraculously placating and wasn't aware of it. Then Junghwan remembers he's supposed to be angry, and punches Sunwoo feebly in the gut.
"I said get out of my way," Junghwan says, attempting to sound menacing.
He fails, as is predetermined by Mother Nature and all things that hate him.
"No, before that," Sunwoo says, grabbing Junghwan's hand.
"Just seconds ago you were interrupting me; now you want me to repeat myself?" Junghwan says, because he is Not Amused. "No. Go away."
Sunwoo looks deep into his eyes. Frankly, it's very unsettling having someone look into his soul like that, especially by Sunwoo of all people. Junghwan wonders how the protagonists in epic love stories can stand it. They probably don't, all things considering. Most of them fall to the ground in weak-kneed devotion.
As he is neither a participant in his inexistent excuse for a love life nor a maiden of weak knees, Junghwan sighs, pushes Sunwoo's face out of his personal space, and says, "I said I just puked, could you please play caring friend instead of irrationally angry friend, and go away."
"You puked because -- food poisoning."
"Yes. I want to lie down now."
"Oh. Oh, that's... that's good. That's great. Great."
He's still holding on to Junghwan's sweaty hand, so Junghwan pulls his hand away and brushes past Sunwoo.
"Just food poisoning," Sunwoo says, following Junghwan. "Whew."
"Some sympathy would be nice," Junghwan tells him, climbing up and collapsing into bed. Sunwoo makes no move to follow him in like he usually does; instead he stands awkwardly next to him.
"I thought you were forcing yourself to vomit," Sunwoo starts awkwardly. "Because of. Er." He starts gesturing to his tummy, like he expects Junghwan to understand Sunwoo Sign Language.
And the saddest thing is? He does.
Junghwan asks, "You were concerned for me, weren't you?"
"'course not," Sunwoo snorts. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You were," Junghwan says gleefully. "You are! You, Cha Sunwoo, you care for me --"
"Shut up," Sunwoo says, laughing, covering Junghwan's mouth with his hand.
"You love me," Junghwan tries to say.
"Do not," Sunwoo says.
Junghwan's licks an obscene stripe up Sunwoo's palm. Sunwoo doesn't move. He narrows his eyes when Junghwan licks again, and when Junghwan glances up from where he's nearly gone cross-eyed looking at his object of salivary intent, he catches the bob of Sunwoo's Adam's apple.
Intrigued, Junghwan keeps licking. Sunwoo's palm is slightly salty, which, ew, bacteria, but it's worth it to watch Sunwoo bite his bottom lip and swallow again. It's worth it to wield control over Sunwoo, and until Sunwoo finds something of Junghwan's to lick too, Junghwan's got victory on his fingertips.
The look on Sunwoo's face is challenging, though slightly perturbed. Any moment now, Junghwan thinks, Sunwoo will take his hand away and admit defeat. Any... moment...
Sunwoo lifts his chin.
Well then. Junghwan bares his teeth, scraping, trying to get a grip on Sunwoo's palm. In turn, Sunwoo grins wildly, and Junghwan sees the challenge in the set of his jaw and the turn of his mouth. He's daring Junghwan to go ahead, cross that boundary, stop being such a wuss. Between the both of them, Junghwan has always been the less crazy one, which to Sunwoo means boring and to others means Sunwoo's slightly less unhinged partner-in-crime.
Eventually, Junghwan finds that Sunwoo has loosened his grip and is really only keeping his hand there for the sake of the game. Junghwan is allowed to do anything. His stomach clenches in fear of the dangers of indecency, but he's not going to stop. Pft.
He returns to licking, first tracing Sunwoo's lifeline with the tip of his tongue and sucking in the tip of his index finger. Sunwoo smirks at him ingratiatingly. The middle finger, Junghwan thinks hazily, is the ultimate sexual weapon. Maybe it's the way Sunwoo watches him, the challenge making his eyes turn sharp and unfaltering. Maybe it's the way Junghwan feels powerful and indignant and more than a little unbalanced. Either way, it's doing nothing to stop him.
He licks a bold stripe down Sunwoo's index finger and up his middle finger, wraps his lips around the tip of it and tongues a generous amount of saliva onto it. Sunwoo stops breathing. Interesting. He'd never really expected Junghwan to come this far, Junghwan realises, and the thought alone spurs him on. He attacks Sunwoo's finger viciously, biting his fingernail hard, then swallows the entire length of the finger into his mouth, tongue curling to rub insistently against and around it. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, looks straight into Sunwoo's eyes, and smiles.
Sunwoo looks shell-shocked. Oh, Junghwan is going to savour this moment and make Sunwoo's life hell teasing him about it, he is.
Sunwoo pulls his finger slowly from Junghwan's lips and looks at it for a short, wonderful moment. Just as Junghwan starts casting about for an appropriately mocking statement, Sunwoo wipes his finger on his pants and makes a face.
"That's disgusting," he says, a grin quirking the corners of his mouth, even as he attempts to feign repulsion. "Completely unnecessary."
"You like it," Junghwan says, delighting in the way Sunwoo's eyes snap to him, not admitting defeat but looking a little awed anyway.
Junghwan tries to be mature, tries to resist the urge to point a finger to Sunwoo's nose and say something stupid like "I win!"
Sunwoo shrugs noncommittally, pats on Junghwan on the head, and says, “I’ll bring a glass of water for you.”
They've ended promotions for My Love a week ago, meaning they barely perform onstage anymore except for special events. Their schedules are less three hour long power naps and never seeing the light of the day, and more hitting the sacks and never getting up (except to pee and eat and occasionally bathe like your standard human being).
As a result, Sunwoo gets kicked out of his room.
That is as much as Junghwan can surmise, anyway, from all the skulking around his door Sunwoo is doing.
"I can't believe it!" Sunwoo bursts at last.
"Too bad," Junghwan tells him, and rolls over in bed to face his wall. He is not going to invite Sunwoo in. Not after their argument, anyway, which he has not forgotten and Sunwoo has yet to apologise for, regardless of any inappropriate licking of fingers.
"Jinyoung-hyung kicked me out. Slammed the door in my face and everything!"
"Huh," Junghwan says.
As predicted, Sunwoo invites himself in. Junghwan hears him clambering up to his bunk, probably stepping all over their manager's pillow while doing so because he can. The smile that springs its surprise attack on Junghwan's face is completely unacceptable. He wipes it off.
"You're a terrible friend," Sunwoo announces, slumping into Junghwan's bed. "The type of terrible that deserves to be, I don't know, undeserving of me. I'm a wonderful friend, right Junghwan? Right? Right? Right? Right --"
"You are despicable," Junghwan interrupts. "You barge into my bed at night, accuse me of ridiculous things, steal my towels, use my toothbrush, steal my underwear, steal my socks -- you do a lot of stealing, in fact. Oh, and let's not forget the time you locked me up in the toilet with a cockroach because you didn't want the cockroach to escape outside."
"Yes, well," Sunwoo says, wrapping his arms around Junghwan's waist and holding tight, as though presenting an apology in the form of body contact. Like that could make up for the truly abhorrent things he's done. "I had my reasons."
"What could those be? Oh, besides being a terrible friend, I mean."
"I had my reasons!" Sunwoo laughs, pinching Junghwan's tummy through his shirt. "Can I? You know. For tonight."
Junghwan rolls his eyes and hopes Sunwoo can feel it from the back of his head. "You'd better make nice with Jinyoung-hyung tomorrow. You know manager-hyung hates listening to you snore."
"You snore," Sunwoo points out.
"I don't sound like a herd of elephants on a stampede."
"I do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do t -- eeeeearghahahaha! Hey! That's not -- puhaha -- not playing fair --" Junghwan squirms, trying to put as far a distance as he can manage between his belly and Sunwoo's tickling fingers, but with the wall trapping him in, his efforts prove futile. As always.
"I don't snore," Sunwoo says, cackling. "Say it."
"'I don't snore'," Junghwan repeats breathlessly, going into paroxysms and trying in vain to bat Sunwoo's hands away from the sensitive skin of his tummy. "There! I've said it! Stop --"
"I don't snore, Junghwan," Sunwoo says ruthlessly, rolling Junghwan over on his back to give his hands better purchase at Junghwan's sides. He looms over Junghwan, grinning boyishly. "Well?"
"Maybe if you'd stop --" Junghwan tries to catch a breath between choked laughter and, to his misfortune, finds that even that is well out of his current aptitude, "Stop tickling me I -- hahaha -- I'd be able to -- pffftahahaha please, stop, fine, you don't snore, just stop Sunwoo, plea -- ahahahahaaaaa," he wheezes when Sunwoo stops, gulping in wonderful, wonderful air.
His body is still tingling in dread, anticipation, and dreaded anticipation, when Sunwoo collapses on top of him and muffles a, "Told you so," into his neck.
"I was under pressure," Junghwan protests, trying to push Sunwoo off. "And now I'm under tons of it."
"Do you want a repeat?" Sunwoo threatens, refusing to budge.
"Maybe I want revenge." Junghwan slides his hands under Sunwoo's shirt and up his sides, and before either of them can hope to breach the course of intellectual reasoning they're tumbling all over each other, shirts mysteriously ending up on the floor and feet mysteriously winding up in Junghwan's face.
"Okay, okay," Sunwoo finally pants, when Junghwan has him pinned beneath his legs, sprawled over Sunwoo's thighs and tickling his feet, "I give. I give!"
"Good," Junghwan says, wrinkling his nose delicately and releasing Sunwoo's feet. "Your feet stink."
"I can say the same for yours," Sunwoo says, and it's while they are indulging in the glorious moment of descending incalculable levels of maturity that the door bursts open. Jinyoung bursts in right after.
"Guys," Jinyoung says, glaring. "Some of us are, in fact, trying to engage in this natural phenomenon called sleep. Don't suppose you've heard of it?"
"Well, I'm sleeping with him," Sunwoo says, like it's a personal offence. Junghwan's insulted at first -- then he remembers they're not actually sleeping together. God. Where did that come from?
"Not like that," Junghwan's traitorous mouth blurts.
"I know," Jinyoung says, with an air of exasperation. "Just. Hush." He lets himself out, managing to make Junghwan feel slightly cowed all the same.
They're quiet for a bit, Junghwan staring at Sunwoo's toes and wondering if he should move, or say something, or do something that won't only increase the already gargantuan level of awkwardness in the room. That doesn't leave him a lot of room for reaction, actually.
"He has issues," Sunwoo says at last, and they both burst into relieved laughter, each trying to shush each other with loud shhs that Junghwan's positive Jinyoung can hear from the other room.
Junghwan moves off Sunwoo's legs and crawls up towards him, collapsing next to him, shoulder wedged uncomfortably on top of Sunwoo's.
"Move," he grunts, because unless he shrinks a size or two, the constraints of his bed lie at one and a half persons. For a second, he entertains the tempting thought of forcing Sunwoo to sleep in the bunk below. That, however, would only result in a very angry manager and shifty gazes in the morning, so he keeps Sunwoo by his side. Anyway, Sunwoo is warm and familiar, and it's not like Junghwan isn't used to sharing beds. A crowded childhood had taught him to sleep in small spaces.
"Why should I move?" Sunwoo protests.
"Because this is my bed?" Junghwan suggests. Then, to make his argument more solid, "And I'm a terrible friend."
"Fair enough," Sunwoo agrees, obviously succumbing to the pliability of fatigue. He shifts to his side, throws an arm and a leg over Junghwan like the great inappropriate brat he is, and makes a small huffy noise of contentment.
For reasons unfathomable, Junghwan's body refuses to push Sunwoo off. Besides, he doesn't want to be elbowed by stray arms and kneed by stray legs in the middle of the night, so it's better to have them wrapped around him than left to their own devices.
That's the harebrained excuse his brain gives him, anyway, before he drops off like a stone.
When he wakes up, it's to Sunwoo snoring wetly down his neck and a beam of sunlight slanting across his eyes. Junghwan squints at his alarm clock; it reads 07:43, 17 minutes before it is set to ring.
Junghwan likes mornings like this, when his body clock defies him and wakes him up just a bit too early. It's like rousing under the delusion of having time left to laze around in bed and enjoy an early morning session with his right hand.
Junghwan absently presses the heel of his palm to his cock, savouring the warm arousal it invokes. Reluctantly remembering Sunwoo, clinging to his frame like a particularly stubborn octopus, Junghwan resigns himself to spending the next couple of minutes thinking about snails and the traits they share with Sunwoo.
When Sunwoo shifts in awakening and brushes a careless arm across Junghwan's crotch, Junghwan doesn't even blink. Well, he tries not to. Sunwoo lets loose a long, low groan, disentangling himself and stretching his arms.
"That's all the thanks I get?" Junghwan grimaces under the dead weight of Sunwoo's arm. "Your arm in my face?"
"Got a problem?" Sunwoo asks, yawning. The bed creaks. Junghwan sneaks a peek down -- their manager has already left, leaving telltale wrinkles on his hastily made bed.
"I could push you off," Junghwan informs him.
Sunwoo smirks lopsidedly at him, rousing in Junghwan a slow warmth that he reasons must be the effect of sharing a bed with another warm body. "You wouldn't," Sunwoo says, and wraps his arms and legs around Junghwan. With all the cuddling, he's starting to feel like a giant, human-sized bolster.
"Leech," Junghwan says.
"You shouldn't let me." Sunwoo buries his face in Junghwan's neck and inhales deeply. "You mustn't be such a victim."
"I don't think I have any say in this," Junghwan points out. "Most of the time you won't even let me consider my options before, I don't know, locking me in a bathroom with a cockroach."
"That was ages ago."
"Doesn't make it any less real."
"It was that or descend into cockroach-killing chaos," Sunwoo explains, his breath warm against Junghwan's neck. "You know what Dongwoo-hyung is like. And Chansik. He'd be climbing on tables and chairs the entire time."
"Doesn't he do that anyway?" Junghwan asks, leaning away from Sunwoo.
Sunwoo sits up suddenly, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair and squinting down at Junghwan. "What time is it?"
Junghwan gestures to the alarm clock. It reads 07:54. Sunwoo makes as though to jump out of bed, but then he visibly stops himself and furrows his eyebrows in thought. After a moment of deliberation, he turns back to Junghwan and, resuming his imitation of an octopus, buries his face into Junghwan's shoulder.
A stupid grin spreads over his face, and Junghwan lets the smell of Sunwoo's... Sunwoo wash over him.
08:00 can't come any slower.
The day passes like any other in-between-promotions day. Junghwan goes out for a morning jog and returns to devour a heavy breakfast. Then he lazes around watching the TV or creeping on his Twitter mentions page, until it’s time to go back to sleep.
Junghwan is really getting into this sleep business when a door ricochets off a wall in a part of the dorm. That's what his sleep-addled brain supplies him with, anyway, until he coaxes his eyelids open and sees his door resting peacefully in the doorway.
That's when the shouting starts. Junghwan groans, rolls over, and tries to bury his head beneath his pillow with little success.
The door to the other bedroom makes another pointed slam before Sunwoo explodes into his room. Junghwan sighs and extracts his head to turn on the bedside lamp. Sunwoo looks delighted. Sunwoo looking delighted after an argument can only mean one thing. Junghwan heaves a greater sigh.
"I hope I get a share in whatever you've managed to weasel from Jinyoung-hyung," Junghwan says, "Or you're sleeping below."
"I should hope so," Sunwoo answers mysteriously. "Inro-hyung isn't coming back tonight, anyway."
"What? Why?"
Sunwoo gives him the Bedroom Eyes. He still looks like he's a bend away from insanity.
"He has a girlfriend?" Junghwan gasps. They both take a moment to think hatefully on the injustice of life.
"No," Sunwoo says, climbing up into Junghwan's bed. This time Junghwan is positive he takes special care to tread on the pillows below. "He has a boyfriend."
"A -- what?" Embarrassingly, Junghwan's voice departs the usual male pitch, climbing two octaves instead. He is too shocked to wince appropriately. "He's gay?"
Sunwoo's eyebrows climb up his face. "You didn't -- oh. Whoops."
"He's gay."
"I thought you knew. Since you two, you know, share. A room." Sunwoo nudges him aside and collapses face-down, arm flung across Junghwan's chest.
Junghwan takes another moment to process this. "What are you implying!" he splutters.
"Nothing! Nothing at all!"
"Well," Junghwan says, settling back into the pillow, "If you're going to be spending the night here you might as well sleep below."
"Junghwan!" Sunwoo looks hurt.
"It's too cramped," Junghwan grumbles. "And you snore."
"Do you want a repeat of last night?"
"I want my bed," Junghwan says. When Sunwoo opens his mouth in dissent, Junghwan cuts him off, "To myself."
"But I like sleeping with you," Sunwoo says. "You're cuddly."
Bizarrely enough, Junghwan feels thrilled by his admittance. He frowns at himself in the dark. "So they say," he sighs, and turns to turn the light off.
"I also like how you fit perfectly in my arms," Sunwoo whispers huskily into Junghwan's ear, chest pressed tight against his back.
"That's odd," Junghwan says. "I don't feel very comfortable."
That is a lie.
"You're deluded," Sunwoo decides.
That is not a lie.
Junghwan doesn't try to pull away, and Sunwoo goes about his usual nightly proceedings of transforming into an octopus.
Just as Junghwan starts to toe the edge of the aforementioned sleep business, Sunwoo asks, out of the blue, "So, you're not mad?"
Junghwan's colossally idiot brain scrambles to comprehend Sunwoo's sudden question. "What?"
"You're not mad. About sleeping with the manager. I mean, sleeping together with the manager, in the same room, not sleeping --"
"I get it," Junghwan cuts in hurriedly, because he’s not going to discuss the finer details of the Korean language when his brain is barely stirring. "It's fine. It's not like we're sharing a bed -- oh." He frowns. "Well, you're not gay."
When Sunwoo doesn't reply, just stays silently tucked behind him, with his nose in Junghwan's hair and his arms wrapped around Junghwan's midriff, he adds a hopeful, "Right?"
"Right," Sunwoo affirms.
"Right," Junghwan says, "Good," and closes his eyes.
"You've been kicking Sunwoo out of your room," Junghwan says to Jinyoung over breakfast the following morning. Sunwoo is still fast asleep in his bed.
"No, I've been closing the door gently on his face."
Junghwan blinks. "That's the same thing, isn't it?"
Jinyoung heaves a long-suffering sigh, managing to sound very much put-upon and condescending all in the course of one breath. "He's being very verbally disturbing. It's not good for Chansik."
Junghwan refrains from telling him that Chansik isn't the perfect, innocent angel he seems to have impressed upon Jinyoung. "What's he been saying?"
Jinyoung glances at him and shudders. "Nothing."
"That doesn't look like a nothing."
"Nothing," Jinyoung stresses. "He'll be sleeping with you for the next few nights. Maybe," he hesitates, "That will get it out of his system."
"Get what out?" Junghwan asks, vexed.
Jinyoung just slants him a look that he obviously expects Junghwan to decipher. Junghwan's expression-deciphering functions all draw a blank.
"Did you know Inro-hyung is gay?" Junghwan asks suddenly.
Jinyoung blanches. "Why?"
"I only just found out last night."
Jinyoung peers at him. "Sunwoo told you?"
"Such a tattletale," Junghwan says, shaking his head.
"Hmm," Jinyoung says. "Did he also tell you that Inro-hyung isn't the only homosexual living with us?"
Junghwan's eyebrows make speedy twin journeys up his forehead. "What? Who?"
"Hmm," Jinyoung says meaningfully, leaning across the table and doing a remarkable job of being a useless gossip monger.
From the way Jinyoung is eyeing him, it is only logical for Junghwan to come to the conclusion that Jinyoung is drawing strange deductions about him. He resolves not to bother him for the rest of the day.
"Jinyoung-hyung says," Junghwan says, as Sunwoo rummages around their shelves for a halfway decent movie to watch, "That there is more than one homosexual living with us."
Sunwoo turns around and holds up Titanic. "Huh," he says.
"Watched that too many times," Junghwan says, and Sunwoo puts the movie back. "I'll bet it's Chansik."
"Why?" Sunwoo asks, voice muffled.
"He's pretty. He's got that look about him, you know. That girly look. Maybe that's why he's so closed-up sometimes."
"Hmm," Sunwoo says, in an uncanny imitation of Jinyoung, which can only mean one thing.
"What is it?" Junghwan asks, leaning forward on the couch.
"It's not him," Sunwoo grunts, peering at the bottom shelf.
"You know who it is?" Junghwan asks incredulously. "Tell me!"
Sunwoo gets up, stretches, and collapses on the couch next to Junghwan. "There's nothing to watch. Think we'll have any luck with the TV?"
Junghwan checks the clock, momentarily sidetracked. "Music Bank?" he suggests.
"Boring," Sunwoo yawns, flipping to his side and sprawling all over the couch like a king, or an equally royal pain in the ass.
Junghwan pushes Sunwoo's legs, which seem to have made a home of his lap. "Don't change the subject. Who is it? Am I the only one who doesn't know?"
Sunwoo lets out a snore of such magnificence, a whole symphony of trumpets pale in comparison.
"You're not actually bound to any promises, are you?" Junghwan presses. "Because I know that you know that I know that you never keep your promises. Spit it out."
Sunwoo lifts a lazy eyelid. "Me," he says.
"Yes, you," Junghwan says. "Tell me."
"I mean," Sunwoo sits up, his legs still propped awkwardly on Junghwan's thighs, "I'm the second homosexual."
Junghwan blinks, takes one look at Sunwoo's incongruously straight face, and bursts out into laughter. "Good one," he wheezes, a solid minute later. "Almost had me there. I was thinking about all those nights you'd spent sleeping with me -- haha -- ah?"
It all happens too quickly for Junghwan to really wrap his mind around it. One moment, Sunwoo is looking at him with that hilariously solemn expression, and the next they are nose-to-nose, and the next he's -- he's kissing him. Kissing. Him. On the lips.
While Junghwan's brain imitates the makings of a sunny-side-up egg by flipping inside out, Sunwoo pulls back, looking as sombre as before.
He can't help it. Junghwan snorts.
In retrospect, it is probably a completely inappropriate reaction to the news, or whatever this silly situation is, but then. Something palpable clicks in Junghwan's brain, like the last wheezing sigh of a gear shifting back into place, and all of a sudden everything makes sense.
"You don't have to kiss me to prove your homosexuality," Junghwan says. He tries desperately not to lick his lips. What does Sunwoo taste like? Will he be able to taste Sunwoo on his lips? Again, he tries not to lick his lips. Not in front of Sunwoo, anyway.
Sunwoo looks dangerously homicidal for a moment. Then he just looks disappointed and resigned. "I'm not proving my sexuality."
Junghwan spares a moment to think about other reasons for Sunwoo to kiss him, and immediately shoots them down. In love with and/or attracted to Junghwan? Pft. Him? It doesn’t even bear thinking about.
Junghwan kind of wants to pat him, or do something equally sappy. It is an important moment for Sunwoo, Junghwan thinks, and he should be a supportive friend. God forbid he chooses to go down the path Jinyoung did, blowing up and banning him from the room. About the kissing... well, Sunwoo must be desperate to have someone believe the full extent of his sexuality, in ways that Jinyoung, with his judging gazes and disapproving frowns, cannot. He's just a little off-kilter, is all. The last thing Sunwoo needs is for Junghwan to run away screaming. Or throw himself at him, which is completely out of the question.
"I believe you," Junghwan says graciously.
"Junghwan," Sunwoo snaps, mercurial. "I'll say it again, I'm not --."
"If you're worried about the bed-sharing, it's okay," Junghwan interrupts, soothing. "I'm not going to jump to any conclusions. I know your intentions are pure."
Sunwoo starts looking less on the verge of breaking a chair and more potential brain breakage. He thumps his head on the wall again, for good measure.
"And I don't mind being your giant teddy bear at night," Junghwan continues, shocked by his own self-sacrificial generosity, because sharing beds with Sunwoo is doing absolutely nothing for the tiny sexuality crisis he feels growing like a particularly bothersome weed in the back of his mind. "In fact, if Jinyoung bans you forever from sleeping in his room, you can switch beds with me. Ha! It'll be like having a gay room and a straight room. The fans can't know, of course."
Contrary to Junghwan's hopes, Sunwoo looks more frustrated than he was before.
"My intentions are never pure," Sunwoo says -- growls, actually, voice pitched so low Junghwan gets a bit worried. Just a bit, though, because out of the two of them Sunwoo should be the more worried one.
"Of course not," he laughs, nervously. "You're the most filthy-minded of us all."
"Junghwan," Sunwoo says, barking his name like an order. "Listen." He puts a hand on Junghwan's arm. "I. I --"
"Yes?" Junghwan asks tentatively, his chest all seized up in -- in something.
"I don't want to switch beds," Sunwoo says at last.
"Oh." Junghwan stares at him. "Jinyoung-hyung isn't being a homophobic dick anymore?"
"No, I'm still banned from my bedroom. When is he ever not a dick, anyway?"
"When he's unconscious," Junghwan says immediately. "What then? You could switch with Inro-hyung, I guess, since Jinyoung-hyung can't assert his rights over him."
"No, not that," Sunwoo snaps, giving Junghwan an exasperated scowl.
"Stop beating around the bush!"
"I just -- you know what? Whatever. How about Finding Nemo?"
If Sunwoo's presence in his bed is of any indication, he has completely turned a deaf ear to Junghwan's sincere suggestions. Junghwan is still oscillating between annoyed and oddly pleased when Sunwoo curls an all-too-familiar arm around his waist, after which his thought processes all go to hell.
DANGER, his brain wails. DANGER DANGER DANGER. Kind of like a police siren.
"Do you want me to talk to --" Junghwan starts, but is cut off by Sunwoo.
"No." Sunwoo tucks his legs between Junghwan's, pressing cold toes to his calves. "Whatever it is, if it requires you moving, it's a no."
"Are you asking me to stay?"
"No," Sunwoo says, faking indignation. "Maybe I'm just too lazy to take my arm back. Ever thought of that?"
"It must take some effort to put your arm there in the first place."
"Never," Sunwoo declares, with no small amount of dramatic intonation. "Not for you, my friend."
"Should I be worried?"
"Yes, very," Sunwoo says mischievously, and nips Junghwan's shoulder.
"Oh, don't tell me," Junghwan says, turning around abruptly. "Human by day, vampire by night?"
"Human by day, horny by night," Sunwoo replies, crowding Junghwan against the wall.
This is familiar. This is battleground that Junghwan and Sunwoo have frequented too often to be healthy, and it's a fight Junghwan is determined to win.
"Horny for me?" Junghwan asks lightly, pushing off the wall to allow himself some semblance of dignity and self-preservation.
"Always," Sunwoo says lowly, pulling Junghwan in by the waist. Their hips press against each other, a warm but unobtrusive pressure.
“That why you're always here at night?"
"I want to fuck you," Sunwoo growls, rutting his hips, and all of a sudden everything becomes too much, too fast. Junghwan scrambles backwards and sits up so fast he knocks his head against the ceiling, but for once he's too confused to make a big deal about it.
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Junghwan gasps, "Nothing below the belt, remember?"
Sunwoo is making a concerted effort to study the creases on the pillow, brows furrowed. Then his eyes slide up, and his smile turns this side of mischievous. "You're not wearing a belt."
Disappointment whooshes through Junghwan like a wave, for reasons Junghwan can’t bring himself to fathom. He does not think about curiosity lurking in the pit of his belly, or the way his heart is kicking away like a donkey partial to aggression. He says, "There's this thing called a metaphor," and kicks Sunwoo with a well-placed foot.
"I see," Sunwoo says, twisting up and grinning. "You should have seen the look on your face."
Sunwoo's first line of defence, Junghwan had found out on his very first day, is to laugh. Sunwoo had only just joined then, and Jinyoung had made up-turned noses at his unruliness. This translated into full-blown condescension when Sunwoo mucked up his steps, which by itself was not considered new amongst trainees, and then proceeded to fall flat on his ass, tripping Dongwoo over.
But even as Jinyoung watched, hawk-eyed, and Dongwoo recovered and proffered a hand, Sunwoo stayed on the floor, properly humiliated, and laughed.
It is mainly why Junghwan forces himself to hit Sunwoo on the arm and say, "You scared me, you great big idiot."
"Your idiot," Sunwoo says playfully, earning himself another punch.
"I should have you on a leash," Junghwan declares, "And a collar." He slumps back into Sunwoo's arms.
"Kinky," Sunwoo murmurs into his neck, tightening his embrace.
Junghwan shakes his head, wriggling a bit and purposely sticking an elbow into Sunwoo's ribs. Sunwoo says nothing. For reasons Junghwan cannot and will not explicate, he turns around. He turns around, and from that moment on it's a mess of elbows at awkward angles and noses in unexpected places, until Junghwan wraps his own arm around Sunwoo's chest too and ducks his head under his chin. He tries very hard not to think about how gay everything is and, as fate would have it, falls short.
Junghwan tries to communicate his understanding and friendship through the hug, extricating himself only when Sunwoo's muscles stop tensing. He tries to will his vocal chords into movement and realises belatedly that they've all gone on strike.
"Don't snore," Sunwoo says, in the tone of voice someone would normally use to say 'good night'.
Junghwan rolls over to his other side and lets Sunwoo slip an arm over. "Nothing to worry about, then."
Then Sunwoo eats something bad and spends the next day letting loose his innards into the toilet bowl. He is sent back to his own bed by Inro, who makes it very clear that he does not relish the idea of sleeping beneath anyone who might up and puke his guts out all over his face.
The first thing Junghwan does when he gets into bed is sprawl like a starfish.
"This is luxury!" he exclaims to the ceiling.
The ceiling remains as it always is, staring down at him in cold silence.
No one to elbow his stomach, or press cold toes between his legs, or near suffocate him with the force of a cuddle. No one to attack his eardrums with snores loud enough to surpass in volume a stampede of elephants, and definitely no one to fight over the covers with. Junghwan feels like a bird set free from a cage of humanoid octopi.
A minute later, he feels downright miserable.
He must have left a window open somewhere; what is that dreadful draft coming in? His back is cold. If this is what Sunwoo had to suffer the past few nights, he must be more of a masochist than Junghwan could ever believe.
Junghwan flops over to his back. But no; now his face is cold.
Through the wall separating his and Sunwoo's room, Junghwan hears someone retching, and everyone else groaning.
Junghwan kind of wishes he can be over there to laugh at Sunwoo. Or Sunwoo, here, so he can laugh even more without worrying about the threats behind Jinyoung's dirty looks.
"I'm fine," Sunwoo says the next evening, clutching his stomach. "Fine."
Junghwan and Inro both give him identical looks of skepticism.
Sunwoo glances down and immediately whisks his hands from his stomach. "Seriously. Jinyoung-hyung hates me more than ever now. It isn't my fault his shirt happened to be the closest absorbable thing!"
"I don't know," Junghwan says. "I don't want to be the closest absorbable thing tonight any more than Jinyoung-hyung wants his shirt to, I think."
"Have I regurgitated the contents of my stomach at all today?" Sunwoo demands.
"No," Inro says, "But --"
"But nothing! I'm not sleeping in there. Period."
"There goes my freedom," Junghwan says sadly.
"Come again?" Sunwoo says, squinting at Junghwan in all manner of threats and violence.
"I can't wait to be squashed against the wall tonight," Junghwan tells him.
"I can't wait to be the squasher," Sunwoo fires back.
"Please tell me those aren't innuendos of some sort," Inro says uneasily.
"What, you know Sunwoo plays for the other team too?" Junghwan asks incredulously.
Inro snorts. "Who doesn't?"
"Oh, I don't know, the public masses? And the media?" Junghwan says, his level of hysteria increasing exponentially. What is this, Keep-Junghwan-In-The-Dark-About-Closets-And-The-Coming-Out-Thereof month? What else does he not know?
"Oookay," Inro says. "I'll just go... do the paperwork."
"Does everyone else know?" Junghwan asks, pointing a violent finger to Sunwoo's chest once he leaves the room. "Even poor, innocent Chansik?"
"You know Chansik isn't --" Sunwoo hedges, before being interrupted by Junghwan.
"Of course I know," he says. "What I don't know is who else knows what I know about you!"
"You mean, besides Jinyoung-hyung and Inro-hyung and you?"
"Yes!"
Sunwoo looks shifty-eyed. "Um, everyone?"
"Everyone?"
"Well, no, not everyone," Sunwoo back-pedals. "Just, uh, all the members. Maybe one or two stylist-noonas."
"One or two stylist-noonas," Junghwan repeats, disbelief -- and hurt? Yes, hurt -- coursing through his veins. "Oh, no need to tell Junghwan, my best friend, about my sexuality, which happens to be not-heterosexual," Junghwan says scathingly, mimicking Sunwoo's baritone, "He's not worth the effort, no, why don't I let him continue believing I'm straight and -- and lick my fingers like a --" Junghwan crashes to a stop, blood draining from his face. "Oh, god."
Sunwoo looks like he's been struck by a hurricane, wrecked, hair sticking out from his head where his hands have run through. "Look, I meant to tell you. Really, I did -- well. Eventually, anyway. It's not -- I wasn't -- not like I was deliberately keeping this from you, I -- it just never came up. The topic, I mean. At least not until two days ago."
"I practically gave you a blowjob," Junghwan whimpers, sinking down onto Inro's bed.
"No, not really, that's really not what a blowjob is like," Sunwoo blabbers.
"I sucked your fingers," Junghwan says. "That's as bad as sucking your -- your. You know." He tries to set the floor beneath his feet on fire, if only to give him a distraction from the thought. It’s a thought truly to be embarrassed of -- him on his knees, mouthing the line of Sunwoo’s fly. Unzipping it, and tasting Sunwoo’s cock, and -- oh.
Oh.
"Trust me," Sunwoo says, obviously trying to be comforting and succeeding only in making Junghwan feel more mortified than he's ever been in his entire life, "It really isn't."
"Not helping," Junghwan tells him. Nothing, he thinks, can save him from lusting after his best friend.
"You know now!" Sunwoo exclaims. "That's all that matters!"
"After telling everyone else?" Junghwan says, "It really isn't."
"I just didn't want you to freak out, Junghwan."
"You would think, after three years, that I would put our friendship first," Junghwan says, heavy with hurt. "Guess not. You'd rather trust the stylist-noonas."
"Junghwan," Sunwoo says, sounding just a little annoyed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm being ridiculous?"
"Yes, I think so!"
"I --" Junghwan stands up abruptly, forcing Sunwoo to take a step back. "Fine.” He'll just be ridiculous elsewhere then, since it chafes on Sunwoo’s person so.
He sidesteps Sunwoo, strides to the door, and clicks it behind him. It closes with a snick. He doesn't slam the door, because he is above that. He is above all mannerisms of Cha Sunwoo, the little underestimating idiot. He doesn't look back to see if Sunwoo is staring after him, or attempting to make holes in the wall, or moving to follow him, or -- or anything. He walks quietly into Sunwoo's room, closes the door, and slides into Sunwoo's bed. He doesn't think about the irony of everything.
For once, the universe is on his side, and he drifts into a fitful stupor, breathing in Sunwoo's stupidly wonderful scent.
Part Two
ANYWAY, major props to hotarumyst, who beta-ed this MASSIVE COLOSSAL THING. Her feedback is worthy of the most precious of gems, and as the queen of run-on sentences I must bow to her. If not for Kelley, half of this would not be coherent, and the other half would not be consistent. She also managed to whip my Jinyoung into character, thank god. Oof.
Title: The Theories of Kissing, Madness, And All That Which Is In Between
Pairing: Baro/Sandeul
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Very vague allusions to bulimia
Word Count: 16,570
Summary: In the midst of a very serious battle between Junghwan’s sanity and Sunwoo’s sexuality, Junghwan must come to terms with his unseemly attraction to his best friend, and partner-in-crime, before he loses it.
"Oh, wow," Sunwoo says.
Ordinarily, when Sunwoo admits awe of any kind, bad things follow. This is, in no uncertain terms, an extraordinary situation.
Stumbling around his bedroom with his elbows locked in his sleeves, Junghwan tries to communicate his need for assistance. Given as he's all but blinded by his shirt, and bunk beds can be very pointy when approached without purpose, Junghwan wobbles in Sunwoo's general direction. He tries to say "help!", but succeeds only in squawking through his shirt.
It seems to drive the point home anyway, because Sunwoo finally stops snorting like the pig he is. Junghwan feels his fingers tug at his shirt collar, although that prove to be useless in the grand scheme of things. Starting to laugh again, Sunwoo backs Junghwan to the bed. There is a solid thunk of Junghwan’s head hitting the top bunk, but he can't be sure that isn’t just Sunwoo's sheer idiocy taking on a more solid form.
"Stop struggling or I’ll leave you here. Like this," Junghwan hears Sunwoo threaten through layers of thick, irritating fabric.
Junghwan opens his mouth to hurl something offending about Sunwoo's dick, but is stopped again by the shirt attacking him in the mouth. He stops flinging his elbows about anyway.
Quieting, Sunwoo grabs the bottom of the shirt and pulls. And pulls. He pulls some more, grunting, and then Junghwan hears something tear. He barely has the time to think whoops, there goes this month's allowance before he's on his back, staring dazedly at the planks supporting the top bunk. His brain starts to register the change from colourful, menacing fabric to solid, wooden planks.
"You've been working out," Sunwoo says appreciatively, somewhere off in the distance. Junghwan snaps back to reality.
"Thanks," he says breathlessly, and promptly receives a face-full of shirt.
"What for, the compliment or the stripping?"
"Both. And that wasn't a compliment, it was a -- an observation. Accurate. If it was a compliment you'd be going on about the glorious lines of my, uh, muscles, so, really, that wasn't a --"
“Glorious lines?" Sunwoo echoes, and snorts again. "No, your stomach looks like a bloated whale."
"Yours is no better," Junghwan retorts, flinging the shirt off his torso.
"And how would you know? Been spying on me showering again?" Sunwoo attempts a look of severe scrutiny and ends up looking constipated. "You like that, don't you?"
Impropriety is how they roll. "I get off it every night," Junghwan says drily.
"That's right," Sunwoo agrees, grinning madly and advancing. Junghwan remains lying on the bed, because moving to sit upright would show his discomfort, and until someone admits defeat it's a game of sexual barbs between them, and anyway he'll probably hit his head on the top bunk (again) sitting up. He'd really rather spare himself the humiliation.
"I spy on you washing your back through the keyhole and imagine myself washing your back for you," Junghwan continues, "Only so I don't have to look at the rolls of your belly fat."
"What's this then?" Sunwoo taunts, leaning over Junghwan in a pitiful stab at looking ominous and pinching his belly. At this proximity Junghwan can see both of his canines in the corners of his grin. Not that they are any concern of his.
Junghwan squirms, but otherwise holds his front. "That's your imagination."
"Oh?" Sunwoo palms Junghwan's stomach, planting an elbow next to Junghwan's head in another attempt at being menacing. His nose only just touches Junghwan’s. Snorting, Junghwan tries not to think about the warmth of Sunwoo's hand. "You should compare yours to mine," Sunwoo says, and takes Junghwan's hand to bring it beneath his shirt.
Junghwan's brain immediately starts giving off a variety of warning bells that sound a lot like GIVE UP NOW and FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HETEROSEXUAL DON'T DO IT. They also sound like Sunwoo at his peak of insufferableness. So, of course, he pays no heed to them.
"You're tensing your muscles," Junghwan says bravely. "That's cheating. Are you trying to impress me with your manliness? Because I'm not. Impressed."
"Of course not," Sunwoo says sharply. "This is a perfectly honourable battle of masculinity. Nothing to do with that. The only impression I'm trying to give is that you're a bloated whale and I'm the very definition of a Greek god."
Sunwoo's breath smells very nice. Wait. Junghwan's brain unwillingly forces itself back to the battle at hand. It's a battle of pride! A matter not to be taken lightly!
Junghwan curls his fingers, dragging his nails softly against skin and muscle. Sunwoo draws in a sharp breath. He releases Junghwan's hand, spreading his hand on Junghwan's stomach again, a bit lower this time. Junghwan feels a jolt at his nether regions, which is -- what.
"'Greek god' my ass," Junghwan blurts, and Sunwoo looks a bit confused. "Attractive Asian man, maybe, but that's a bit too exaggerated. Look at Siwon from Super Junior. Now that's --"
"Shut up," Sunwoo growls, and his thumb brushes Junghwan's waistband. Oh. Maybe that's crossing the line. The warning bells are starting to sound a lot less like Sunwoo and more like Junghwan's mother, telling him it's okay to be violent with boys but keep a firm hold of yourself, please, and stay natural. Natural means heterosexual, which pretty much means lying in bed with his best friend on top of him with hands in bad places is something worthy of a long lecture and that Look of Disappointment his mother is so fond of making. Damn.
Junghwan's just about to give the hand beneath Sunwoo's shirt the mental encouragement to push Sunwoo away when the door bangs open. Sunwoo jumps away from Junghwan at the speed of a hurtling train.
Dongwoo glares at them both and says, "Your socks and shoes are on the bathroom floor. Put them away."
"Yes, mother," Sunwoo says.
Dongwoo looks at him suspiciously, then at Junghwan lying half-naked on the bed, and then at somewhere on the floor, presumably where the shirt was flung. Junghwan cringes and opens his mouth to tell Dongwoo it's not what it looks like.
"There is such a thing as a laundry basket," Dongwoo says exasperatedly.
All eyes turn to the shirt that had started this entire mess.
"Alright, mother," Sunwoo says again, shooing Dongwoo out of the room. "Out you go. Have fun using the washing machine or something."
"Your shoes --" Dongwoo tries. Sunwoo closes the door in his face.
"You're welcome," Sunwoo says to Junghwan, like nothing's happened.
Junghwan blinks perplexedly.
Sunwoo turns, opens the door, and leaves, presumably to get the shoes and socks out of the bathroom.
One of the wonderful, and perhaps only, things about riding in company vans is the sleep. Since Junghwan can't sing or dance or run around in moving vehicles unless suffering from the irrational desire of stupidity to have Jinyoung's fist planted in his face, he sleeps.
On Sunwoo's shoulder.
Sunwoo makes a good sleeping shoulder. His shoulders are broad, but they don't make a point of being pointed like Chansik's and Jinyoung's, and Dongwoo's typically vibrates with discomfort whenever Junghwan lies against him. By order of omission, Sunwoo has the best sleeping shoulders.
On the other hand, Sunwoo can't stop talking and moving about for less than five minutes, so it is not rare for Junghwan to end up nodding off in every sense of the word and knocking his head against the window once in a while. Eventually, anyhow, after Sunwoo tires of bouncing around and being a general nuisance to everyone in the vehicle, he usually takes pity on poor Junghwan and leans over to yank his head (often angled precariously towards the window) down to his shoulder.
Thus, when Junghwan wakes up, neck prickling uncomfortably, he's lying on Sunwoo's broad, not-pointy shoulder, and Sunwoo has his head resting against the top of Junghwan's head, which is just as well. It makes a win-win situation.
That is, of course, until Junghwan becomes painfully aware of the part of his head that feels very wet, and very uncomfortable.
Junghwan elbows Sunwoo in the ribs and ducks away, leaving him to splutter awake.
"Hey!" Sunwoo cries, rubbing his side. "That hurts."
"Imagine how I must feel, then, having your drool all over my scalp," Junghwan says, picking at his hair. "Uck," he emphasises. "Eeyuck."
Sunwoo looks interested. "Really? I never drool."
"You must have very salivary intentions for me."
Sunwoo waggles his eyebrows. He looks fairly demented when he does that. Junghwan tells him so.
"Bedroom eyes, you idiot," Sunwoo says. "These are my bedroom eyes."
Speaking of which. Suddenly remembering his mother's insistence on being natural, Junghwan says, "Nothing below the belt next time, please."
Sunwoo looks aghast at Junghwan's request, which is odd, really. Junghwan thinks he makes a ton of sense more than Sunwoo on his best days.
"Don't say it like that," Sunwoo tells him, looking every which way around the van and acting very atypical of his usual self. "Someone could hear."
"But we have nothing to hide," Junghwan says blithely.
"Yes, well," Sunwoo says, and stays peculiarly silent for the rest of their journey. He lets Junghwan sleep on his shoulder though, so he can't say he minds much.
They're quarrelling. Sunwoo's being a royal pain in the ass again, nothing new, and spouting all sorts of nonsense Junghwan only half-understands because he's too busy being alarmed, but when he says as much Sunwoo only gets angrier. With anger comes boldness.
"I'd take being a royal pain in the ass over a dead corpse on the floor any day!" Sunwoo shouts, backing Junghwan into the wall.
Junghwan isn't quite sure why Sunwoo has to raise his voice -- hell, he hasn't a single clue why Sunwoo's all riled up.
"A corpse is already dead," Junghwan points out, trying for meek. "You don't have to use --"
"Don't be technical with me," Sunwoo says, incensed, jabbing a finger into Junghwan's rather unremarkable chest with all the intensity of a searing hot poker.
"It's all a misunderstanding --" Junghwan tries, because if he doesn't know what they're fighting about then it means Sunwoo's gone and jumped to erroneous conclusions again, and it is his job to hammer at least an ounce of sense into Sunwoo's impenetrable helmet of a skull.
"I know what I saw," Sunwoo breathes, all up in Junghwan's face. Junghwan is getting rather tired of being the only sensible person in the room, and hopes Jinyoung will come in soon with his hands of fury and glares of doom to sort Sunwoo out. "You're an idiot, you know. I don't know why I like you so much, especially when you're just a walking talking representation of oblivion on two legs --"
"Shut up," Junghwan snarls, because when Sunwoo starts hurling personal insults, he's mostly through with his argument and is riding only on emotions, logic be damned. "Your insults would work better, you know, if I knew what you were talking about." He pauses, watching Sunwoo's face. "Which I don't," he adds, in case Sunwoo’s still stuck in his own world.
Sunwoo starts looking aggrieved, his forehead creasing and his eyes going all kicked-puppy, even though he's barely a moment away from spitting fire. "I knew this would happen," he says, "I knew it. You're still denying it, why --"
"Look," Junghwan interrupts. "I've just had a bad case of food poisoning and I'm feeling quite unwell, so if you'd get out of my way and maybe out of my life forever and never return, I would appreciate it. Really. Maybe you could send postcards! Go away."
Sunwoo only presses him back into the wall. "What did you say?" he asks, sounding puzzled and strangely not-angry. Huh. Maybe Junghwan's said something miraculously placating and wasn't aware of it. Then Junghwan remembers he's supposed to be angry, and punches Sunwoo feebly in the gut.
"I said get out of my way," Junghwan says, attempting to sound menacing.
He fails, as is predetermined by Mother Nature and all things that hate him.
"No, before that," Sunwoo says, grabbing Junghwan's hand.
"Just seconds ago you were interrupting me; now you want me to repeat myself?" Junghwan says, because he is Not Amused. "No. Go away."
Sunwoo looks deep into his eyes. Frankly, it's very unsettling having someone look into his soul like that, especially by Sunwoo of all people. Junghwan wonders how the protagonists in epic love stories can stand it. They probably don't, all things considering. Most of them fall to the ground in weak-kneed devotion.
As he is neither a participant in his inexistent excuse for a love life nor a maiden of weak knees, Junghwan sighs, pushes Sunwoo's face out of his personal space, and says, "I said I just puked, could you please play caring friend instead of irrationally angry friend, and go away."
"You puked because -- food poisoning."
"Yes. I want to lie down now."
"Oh. Oh, that's... that's good. That's great. Great."
He's still holding on to Junghwan's sweaty hand, so Junghwan pulls his hand away and brushes past Sunwoo.
"Just food poisoning," Sunwoo says, following Junghwan. "Whew."
"Some sympathy would be nice," Junghwan tells him, climbing up and collapsing into bed. Sunwoo makes no move to follow him in like he usually does; instead he stands awkwardly next to him.
"I thought you were forcing yourself to vomit," Sunwoo starts awkwardly. "Because of. Er." He starts gesturing to his tummy, like he expects Junghwan to understand Sunwoo Sign Language.
And the saddest thing is? He does.
Junghwan asks, "You were concerned for me, weren't you?"
"'course not," Sunwoo snorts. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You were," Junghwan says gleefully. "You are! You, Cha Sunwoo, you care for me --"
"Shut up," Sunwoo says, laughing, covering Junghwan's mouth with his hand.
"You love me," Junghwan tries to say.
"Do not," Sunwoo says.
Junghwan's licks an obscene stripe up Sunwoo's palm. Sunwoo doesn't move. He narrows his eyes when Junghwan licks again, and when Junghwan glances up from where he's nearly gone cross-eyed looking at his object of salivary intent, he catches the bob of Sunwoo's Adam's apple.
Intrigued, Junghwan keeps licking. Sunwoo's palm is slightly salty, which, ew, bacteria, but it's worth it to watch Sunwoo bite his bottom lip and swallow again. It's worth it to wield control over Sunwoo, and until Sunwoo finds something of Junghwan's to lick too, Junghwan's got victory on his fingertips.
The look on Sunwoo's face is challenging, though slightly perturbed. Any moment now, Junghwan thinks, Sunwoo will take his hand away and admit defeat. Any... moment...
Sunwoo lifts his chin.
Well then. Junghwan bares his teeth, scraping, trying to get a grip on Sunwoo's palm. In turn, Sunwoo grins wildly, and Junghwan sees the challenge in the set of his jaw and the turn of his mouth. He's daring Junghwan to go ahead, cross that boundary, stop being such a wuss. Between the both of them, Junghwan has always been the less crazy one, which to Sunwoo means boring and to others means Sunwoo's slightly less unhinged partner-in-crime.
Eventually, Junghwan finds that Sunwoo has loosened his grip and is really only keeping his hand there for the sake of the game. Junghwan is allowed to do anything. His stomach clenches in fear of the dangers of indecency, but he's not going to stop. Pft.
He returns to licking, first tracing Sunwoo's lifeline with the tip of his tongue and sucking in the tip of his index finger. Sunwoo smirks at him ingratiatingly. The middle finger, Junghwan thinks hazily, is the ultimate sexual weapon. Maybe it's the way Sunwoo watches him, the challenge making his eyes turn sharp and unfaltering. Maybe it's the way Junghwan feels powerful and indignant and more than a little unbalanced. Either way, it's doing nothing to stop him.
He licks a bold stripe down Sunwoo's index finger and up his middle finger, wraps his lips around the tip of it and tongues a generous amount of saliva onto it. Sunwoo stops breathing. Interesting. He'd never really expected Junghwan to come this far, Junghwan realises, and the thought alone spurs him on. He attacks Sunwoo's finger viciously, biting his fingernail hard, then swallows the entire length of the finger into his mouth, tongue curling to rub insistently against and around it. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, looks straight into Sunwoo's eyes, and smiles.
Sunwoo looks shell-shocked. Oh, Junghwan is going to savour this moment and make Sunwoo's life hell teasing him about it, he is.
Sunwoo pulls his finger slowly from Junghwan's lips and looks at it for a short, wonderful moment. Just as Junghwan starts casting about for an appropriately mocking statement, Sunwoo wipes his finger on his pants and makes a face.
"That's disgusting," he says, a grin quirking the corners of his mouth, even as he attempts to feign repulsion. "Completely unnecessary."
"You like it," Junghwan says, delighting in the way Sunwoo's eyes snap to him, not admitting defeat but looking a little awed anyway.
Junghwan tries to be mature, tries to resist the urge to point a finger to Sunwoo's nose and say something stupid like "I win!"
Sunwoo shrugs noncommittally, pats on Junghwan on the head, and says, “I’ll bring a glass of water for you.”
They've ended promotions for My Love a week ago, meaning they barely perform onstage anymore except for special events. Their schedules are less three hour long power naps and never seeing the light of the day, and more hitting the sacks and never getting up (except to pee and eat and occasionally bathe like your standard human being).
As a result, Sunwoo gets kicked out of his room.
That is as much as Junghwan can surmise, anyway, from all the skulking around his door Sunwoo is doing.
"I can't believe it!" Sunwoo bursts at last.
"Too bad," Junghwan tells him, and rolls over in bed to face his wall. He is not going to invite Sunwoo in. Not after their argument, anyway, which he has not forgotten and Sunwoo has yet to apologise for, regardless of any inappropriate licking of fingers.
"Jinyoung-hyung kicked me out. Slammed the door in my face and everything!"
"Huh," Junghwan says.
As predicted, Sunwoo invites himself in. Junghwan hears him clambering up to his bunk, probably stepping all over their manager's pillow while doing so because he can. The smile that springs its surprise attack on Junghwan's face is completely unacceptable. He wipes it off.
"You're a terrible friend," Sunwoo announces, slumping into Junghwan's bed. "The type of terrible that deserves to be, I don't know, undeserving of me. I'm a wonderful friend, right Junghwan? Right? Right? Right? Right --"
"You are despicable," Junghwan interrupts. "You barge into my bed at night, accuse me of ridiculous things, steal my towels, use my toothbrush, steal my underwear, steal my socks -- you do a lot of stealing, in fact. Oh, and let's not forget the time you locked me up in the toilet with a cockroach because you didn't want the cockroach to escape outside."
"Yes, well," Sunwoo says, wrapping his arms around Junghwan's waist and holding tight, as though presenting an apology in the form of body contact. Like that could make up for the truly abhorrent things he's done. "I had my reasons."
"What could those be? Oh, besides being a terrible friend, I mean."
"I had my reasons!" Sunwoo laughs, pinching Junghwan's tummy through his shirt. "Can I? You know. For tonight."
Junghwan rolls his eyes and hopes Sunwoo can feel it from the back of his head. "You'd better make nice with Jinyoung-hyung tomorrow. You know manager-hyung hates listening to you snore."
"You snore," Sunwoo points out.
"I don't sound like a herd of elephants on a stampede."
"I do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do t -- eeeeearghahahaha! Hey! That's not -- puhaha -- not playing fair --" Junghwan squirms, trying to put as far a distance as he can manage between his belly and Sunwoo's tickling fingers, but with the wall trapping him in, his efforts prove futile. As always.
"I don't snore," Sunwoo says, cackling. "Say it."
"'I don't snore'," Junghwan repeats breathlessly, going into paroxysms and trying in vain to bat Sunwoo's hands away from the sensitive skin of his tummy. "There! I've said it! Stop --"
"I don't snore, Junghwan," Sunwoo says ruthlessly, rolling Junghwan over on his back to give his hands better purchase at Junghwan's sides. He looms over Junghwan, grinning boyishly. "Well?"
"Maybe if you'd stop --" Junghwan tries to catch a breath between choked laughter and, to his misfortune, finds that even that is well out of his current aptitude, "Stop tickling me I -- hahaha -- I'd be able to -- pffftahahaha please, stop, fine, you don't snore, just stop Sunwoo, plea -- ahahahahaaaaa," he wheezes when Sunwoo stops, gulping in wonderful, wonderful air.
His body is still tingling in dread, anticipation, and dreaded anticipation, when Sunwoo collapses on top of him and muffles a, "Told you so," into his neck.
"I was under pressure," Junghwan protests, trying to push Sunwoo off. "And now I'm under tons of it."
"Do you want a repeat?" Sunwoo threatens, refusing to budge.
"Maybe I want revenge." Junghwan slides his hands under Sunwoo's shirt and up his sides, and before either of them can hope to breach the course of intellectual reasoning they're tumbling all over each other, shirts mysteriously ending up on the floor and feet mysteriously winding up in Junghwan's face.
"Okay, okay," Sunwoo finally pants, when Junghwan has him pinned beneath his legs, sprawled over Sunwoo's thighs and tickling his feet, "I give. I give!"
"Good," Junghwan says, wrinkling his nose delicately and releasing Sunwoo's feet. "Your feet stink."
"I can say the same for yours," Sunwoo says, and it's while they are indulging in the glorious moment of descending incalculable levels of maturity that the door bursts open. Jinyoung bursts in right after.
"Guys," Jinyoung says, glaring. "Some of us are, in fact, trying to engage in this natural phenomenon called sleep. Don't suppose you've heard of it?"
"Well, I'm sleeping with him," Sunwoo says, like it's a personal offence. Junghwan's insulted at first -- then he remembers they're not actually sleeping together. God. Where did that come from?
"Not like that," Junghwan's traitorous mouth blurts.
"I know," Jinyoung says, with an air of exasperation. "Just. Hush." He lets himself out, managing to make Junghwan feel slightly cowed all the same.
They're quiet for a bit, Junghwan staring at Sunwoo's toes and wondering if he should move, or say something, or do something that won't only increase the already gargantuan level of awkwardness in the room. That doesn't leave him a lot of room for reaction, actually.
"He has issues," Sunwoo says at last, and they both burst into relieved laughter, each trying to shush each other with loud shhs that Junghwan's positive Jinyoung can hear from the other room.
Junghwan moves off Sunwoo's legs and crawls up towards him, collapsing next to him, shoulder wedged uncomfortably on top of Sunwoo's.
"Move," he grunts, because unless he shrinks a size or two, the constraints of his bed lie at one and a half persons. For a second, he entertains the tempting thought of forcing Sunwoo to sleep in the bunk below. That, however, would only result in a very angry manager and shifty gazes in the morning, so he keeps Sunwoo by his side. Anyway, Sunwoo is warm and familiar, and it's not like Junghwan isn't used to sharing beds. A crowded childhood had taught him to sleep in small spaces.
"Why should I move?" Sunwoo protests.
"Because this is my bed?" Junghwan suggests. Then, to make his argument more solid, "And I'm a terrible friend."
"Fair enough," Sunwoo agrees, obviously succumbing to the pliability of fatigue. He shifts to his side, throws an arm and a leg over Junghwan like the great inappropriate brat he is, and makes a small huffy noise of contentment.
For reasons unfathomable, Junghwan's body refuses to push Sunwoo off. Besides, he doesn't want to be elbowed by stray arms and kneed by stray legs in the middle of the night, so it's better to have them wrapped around him than left to their own devices.
That's the harebrained excuse his brain gives him, anyway, before he drops off like a stone.
When he wakes up, it's to Sunwoo snoring wetly down his neck and a beam of sunlight slanting across his eyes. Junghwan squints at his alarm clock; it reads 07:43, 17 minutes before it is set to ring.
Junghwan likes mornings like this, when his body clock defies him and wakes him up just a bit too early. It's like rousing under the delusion of having time left to laze around in bed and enjoy an early morning session with his right hand.
Junghwan absently presses the heel of his palm to his cock, savouring the warm arousal it invokes. Reluctantly remembering Sunwoo, clinging to his frame like a particularly stubborn octopus, Junghwan resigns himself to spending the next couple of minutes thinking about snails and the traits they share with Sunwoo.
When Sunwoo shifts in awakening and brushes a careless arm across Junghwan's crotch, Junghwan doesn't even blink. Well, he tries not to. Sunwoo lets loose a long, low groan, disentangling himself and stretching his arms.
"That's all the thanks I get?" Junghwan grimaces under the dead weight of Sunwoo's arm. "Your arm in my face?"
"Got a problem?" Sunwoo asks, yawning. The bed creaks. Junghwan sneaks a peek down -- their manager has already left, leaving telltale wrinkles on his hastily made bed.
"I could push you off," Junghwan informs him.
Sunwoo smirks lopsidedly at him, rousing in Junghwan a slow warmth that he reasons must be the effect of sharing a bed with another warm body. "You wouldn't," Sunwoo says, and wraps his arms and legs around Junghwan. With all the cuddling, he's starting to feel like a giant, human-sized bolster.
"Leech," Junghwan says.
"You shouldn't let me." Sunwoo buries his face in Junghwan's neck and inhales deeply. "You mustn't be such a victim."
"I don't think I have any say in this," Junghwan points out. "Most of the time you won't even let me consider my options before, I don't know, locking me in a bathroom with a cockroach."
"That was ages ago."
"Doesn't make it any less real."
"It was that or descend into cockroach-killing chaos," Sunwoo explains, his breath warm against Junghwan's neck. "You know what Dongwoo-hyung is like. And Chansik. He'd be climbing on tables and chairs the entire time."
"Doesn't he do that anyway?" Junghwan asks, leaning away from Sunwoo.
Sunwoo sits up suddenly, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair and squinting down at Junghwan. "What time is it?"
Junghwan gestures to the alarm clock. It reads 07:54. Sunwoo makes as though to jump out of bed, but then he visibly stops himself and furrows his eyebrows in thought. After a moment of deliberation, he turns back to Junghwan and, resuming his imitation of an octopus, buries his face into Junghwan's shoulder.
A stupid grin spreads over his face, and Junghwan lets the smell of Sunwoo's... Sunwoo wash over him.
08:00 can't come any slower.
The day passes like any other in-between-promotions day. Junghwan goes out for a morning jog and returns to devour a heavy breakfast. Then he lazes around watching the TV or creeping on his Twitter mentions page, until it’s time to go back to sleep.
Junghwan is really getting into this sleep business when a door ricochets off a wall in a part of the dorm. That's what his sleep-addled brain supplies him with, anyway, until he coaxes his eyelids open and sees his door resting peacefully in the doorway.
That's when the shouting starts. Junghwan groans, rolls over, and tries to bury his head beneath his pillow with little success.
The door to the other bedroom makes another pointed slam before Sunwoo explodes into his room. Junghwan sighs and extracts his head to turn on the bedside lamp. Sunwoo looks delighted. Sunwoo looking delighted after an argument can only mean one thing. Junghwan heaves a greater sigh.
"I hope I get a share in whatever you've managed to weasel from Jinyoung-hyung," Junghwan says, "Or you're sleeping below."
"I should hope so," Sunwoo answers mysteriously. "Inro-hyung isn't coming back tonight, anyway."
"What? Why?"
Sunwoo gives him the Bedroom Eyes. He still looks like he's a bend away from insanity.
"He has a girlfriend?" Junghwan gasps. They both take a moment to think hatefully on the injustice of life.
"No," Sunwoo says, climbing up into Junghwan's bed. This time Junghwan is positive he takes special care to tread on the pillows below. "He has a boyfriend."
"A -- what?" Embarrassingly, Junghwan's voice departs the usual male pitch, climbing two octaves instead. He is too shocked to wince appropriately. "He's gay?"
Sunwoo's eyebrows climb up his face. "You didn't -- oh. Whoops."
"He's gay."
"I thought you knew. Since you two, you know, share. A room." Sunwoo nudges him aside and collapses face-down, arm flung across Junghwan's chest.
Junghwan takes another moment to process this. "What are you implying!" he splutters.
"Nothing! Nothing at all!"
"Well," Junghwan says, settling back into the pillow, "If you're going to be spending the night here you might as well sleep below."
"Junghwan!" Sunwoo looks hurt.
"It's too cramped," Junghwan grumbles. "And you snore."
"Do you want a repeat of last night?"
"I want my bed," Junghwan says. When Sunwoo opens his mouth in dissent, Junghwan cuts him off, "To myself."
"But I like sleeping with you," Sunwoo says. "You're cuddly."
Bizarrely enough, Junghwan feels thrilled by his admittance. He frowns at himself in the dark. "So they say," he sighs, and turns to turn the light off.
"I also like how you fit perfectly in my arms," Sunwoo whispers huskily into Junghwan's ear, chest pressed tight against his back.
"That's odd," Junghwan says. "I don't feel very comfortable."
That is a lie.
"You're deluded," Sunwoo decides.
That is not a lie.
Junghwan doesn't try to pull away, and Sunwoo goes about his usual nightly proceedings of transforming into an octopus.
Just as Junghwan starts to toe the edge of the aforementioned sleep business, Sunwoo asks, out of the blue, "So, you're not mad?"
Junghwan's colossally idiot brain scrambles to comprehend Sunwoo's sudden question. "What?"
"You're not mad. About sleeping with the manager. I mean, sleeping together with the manager, in the same room, not sleeping --"
"I get it," Junghwan cuts in hurriedly, because he’s not going to discuss the finer details of the Korean language when his brain is barely stirring. "It's fine. It's not like we're sharing a bed -- oh." He frowns. "Well, you're not gay."
When Sunwoo doesn't reply, just stays silently tucked behind him, with his nose in Junghwan's hair and his arms wrapped around Junghwan's midriff, he adds a hopeful, "Right?"
"Right," Sunwoo affirms.
"Right," Junghwan says, "Good," and closes his eyes.
"You've been kicking Sunwoo out of your room," Junghwan says to Jinyoung over breakfast the following morning. Sunwoo is still fast asleep in his bed.
"No, I've been closing the door gently on his face."
Junghwan blinks. "That's the same thing, isn't it?"
Jinyoung heaves a long-suffering sigh, managing to sound very much put-upon and condescending all in the course of one breath. "He's being very verbally disturbing. It's not good for Chansik."
Junghwan refrains from telling him that Chansik isn't the perfect, innocent angel he seems to have impressed upon Jinyoung. "What's he been saying?"
Jinyoung glances at him and shudders. "Nothing."
"That doesn't look like a nothing."
"Nothing," Jinyoung stresses. "He'll be sleeping with you for the next few nights. Maybe," he hesitates, "That will get it out of his system."
"Get what out?" Junghwan asks, vexed.
Jinyoung just slants him a look that he obviously expects Junghwan to decipher. Junghwan's expression-deciphering functions all draw a blank.
"Did you know Inro-hyung is gay?" Junghwan asks suddenly.
Jinyoung blanches. "Why?"
"I only just found out last night."
Jinyoung peers at him. "Sunwoo told you?"
"Such a tattletale," Junghwan says, shaking his head.
"Hmm," Jinyoung says. "Did he also tell you that Inro-hyung isn't the only homosexual living with us?"
Junghwan's eyebrows make speedy twin journeys up his forehead. "What? Who?"
"Hmm," Jinyoung says meaningfully, leaning across the table and doing a remarkable job of being a useless gossip monger.
From the way Jinyoung is eyeing him, it is only logical for Junghwan to come to the conclusion that Jinyoung is drawing strange deductions about him. He resolves not to bother him for the rest of the day.
"Jinyoung-hyung says," Junghwan says, as Sunwoo rummages around their shelves for a halfway decent movie to watch, "That there is more than one homosexual living with us."
Sunwoo turns around and holds up Titanic. "Huh," he says.
"Watched that too many times," Junghwan says, and Sunwoo puts the movie back. "I'll bet it's Chansik."
"Why?" Sunwoo asks, voice muffled.
"He's pretty. He's got that look about him, you know. That girly look. Maybe that's why he's so closed-up sometimes."
"Hmm," Sunwoo says, in an uncanny imitation of Jinyoung, which can only mean one thing.
"What is it?" Junghwan asks, leaning forward on the couch.
"It's not him," Sunwoo grunts, peering at the bottom shelf.
"You know who it is?" Junghwan asks incredulously. "Tell me!"
Sunwoo gets up, stretches, and collapses on the couch next to Junghwan. "There's nothing to watch. Think we'll have any luck with the TV?"
Junghwan checks the clock, momentarily sidetracked. "Music Bank?" he suggests.
"Boring," Sunwoo yawns, flipping to his side and sprawling all over the couch like a king, or an equally royal pain in the ass.
Junghwan pushes Sunwoo's legs, which seem to have made a home of his lap. "Don't change the subject. Who is it? Am I the only one who doesn't know?"
Sunwoo lets out a snore of such magnificence, a whole symphony of trumpets pale in comparison.
"You're not actually bound to any promises, are you?" Junghwan presses. "Because I know that you know that I know that you never keep your promises. Spit it out."
Sunwoo lifts a lazy eyelid. "Me," he says.
"Yes, you," Junghwan says. "Tell me."
"I mean," Sunwoo sits up, his legs still propped awkwardly on Junghwan's thighs, "I'm the second homosexual."
Junghwan blinks, takes one look at Sunwoo's incongruously straight face, and bursts out into laughter. "Good one," he wheezes, a solid minute later. "Almost had me there. I was thinking about all those nights you'd spent sleeping with me -- haha -- ah?"
It all happens too quickly for Junghwan to really wrap his mind around it. One moment, Sunwoo is looking at him with that hilariously solemn expression, and the next they are nose-to-nose, and the next he's -- he's kissing him. Kissing. Him. On the lips.
While Junghwan's brain imitates the makings of a sunny-side-up egg by flipping inside out, Sunwoo pulls back, looking as sombre as before.
He can't help it. Junghwan snorts.
In retrospect, it is probably a completely inappropriate reaction to the news, or whatever this silly situation is, but then. Something palpable clicks in Junghwan's brain, like the last wheezing sigh of a gear shifting back into place, and all of a sudden everything makes sense.
"You don't have to kiss me to prove your homosexuality," Junghwan says. He tries desperately not to lick his lips. What does Sunwoo taste like? Will he be able to taste Sunwoo on his lips? Again, he tries not to lick his lips. Not in front of Sunwoo, anyway.
Sunwoo looks dangerously homicidal for a moment. Then he just looks disappointed and resigned. "I'm not proving my sexuality."
Junghwan spares a moment to think about other reasons for Sunwoo to kiss him, and immediately shoots them down. In love with and/or attracted to Junghwan? Pft. Him? It doesn’t even bear thinking about.
Junghwan kind of wants to pat him, or do something equally sappy. It is an important moment for Sunwoo, Junghwan thinks, and he should be a supportive friend. God forbid he chooses to go down the path Jinyoung did, blowing up and banning him from the room. About the kissing... well, Sunwoo must be desperate to have someone believe the full extent of his sexuality, in ways that Jinyoung, with his judging gazes and disapproving frowns, cannot. He's just a little off-kilter, is all. The last thing Sunwoo needs is for Junghwan to run away screaming. Or throw himself at him, which is completely out of the question.
"I believe you," Junghwan says graciously.
"Junghwan," Sunwoo snaps, mercurial. "I'll say it again, I'm not --."
"If you're worried about the bed-sharing, it's okay," Junghwan interrupts, soothing. "I'm not going to jump to any conclusions. I know your intentions are pure."
Sunwoo starts looking less on the verge of breaking a chair and more potential brain breakage. He thumps his head on the wall again, for good measure.
"And I don't mind being your giant teddy bear at night," Junghwan continues, shocked by his own self-sacrificial generosity, because sharing beds with Sunwoo is doing absolutely nothing for the tiny sexuality crisis he feels growing like a particularly bothersome weed in the back of his mind. "In fact, if Jinyoung bans you forever from sleeping in his room, you can switch beds with me. Ha! It'll be like having a gay room and a straight room. The fans can't know, of course."
Contrary to Junghwan's hopes, Sunwoo looks more frustrated than he was before.
"My intentions are never pure," Sunwoo says -- growls, actually, voice pitched so low Junghwan gets a bit worried. Just a bit, though, because out of the two of them Sunwoo should be the more worried one.
"Of course not," he laughs, nervously. "You're the most filthy-minded of us all."
"Junghwan," Sunwoo says, barking his name like an order. "Listen." He puts a hand on Junghwan's arm. "I. I --"
"Yes?" Junghwan asks tentatively, his chest all seized up in -- in something.
"I don't want to switch beds," Sunwoo says at last.
"Oh." Junghwan stares at him. "Jinyoung-hyung isn't being a homophobic dick anymore?"
"No, I'm still banned from my bedroom. When is he ever not a dick, anyway?"
"When he's unconscious," Junghwan says immediately. "What then? You could switch with Inro-hyung, I guess, since Jinyoung-hyung can't assert his rights over him."
"No, not that," Sunwoo snaps, giving Junghwan an exasperated scowl.
"Stop beating around the bush!"
"I just -- you know what? Whatever. How about Finding Nemo?"
If Sunwoo's presence in his bed is of any indication, he has completely turned a deaf ear to Junghwan's sincere suggestions. Junghwan is still oscillating between annoyed and oddly pleased when Sunwoo curls an all-too-familiar arm around his waist, after which his thought processes all go to hell.
DANGER, his brain wails. DANGER DANGER DANGER. Kind of like a police siren.
"Do you want me to talk to --" Junghwan starts, but is cut off by Sunwoo.
"No." Sunwoo tucks his legs between Junghwan's, pressing cold toes to his calves. "Whatever it is, if it requires you moving, it's a no."
"Are you asking me to stay?"
"No," Sunwoo says, faking indignation. "Maybe I'm just too lazy to take my arm back. Ever thought of that?"
"It must take some effort to put your arm there in the first place."
"Never," Sunwoo declares, with no small amount of dramatic intonation. "Not for you, my friend."
"Should I be worried?"
"Yes, very," Sunwoo says mischievously, and nips Junghwan's shoulder.
"Oh, don't tell me," Junghwan says, turning around abruptly. "Human by day, vampire by night?"
"Human by day, horny by night," Sunwoo replies, crowding Junghwan against the wall.
This is familiar. This is battleground that Junghwan and Sunwoo have frequented too often to be healthy, and it's a fight Junghwan is determined to win.
"Horny for me?" Junghwan asks lightly, pushing off the wall to allow himself some semblance of dignity and self-preservation.
"Always," Sunwoo says lowly, pulling Junghwan in by the waist. Their hips press against each other, a warm but unobtrusive pressure.
“That why you're always here at night?"
"I want to fuck you," Sunwoo growls, rutting his hips, and all of a sudden everything becomes too much, too fast. Junghwan scrambles backwards and sits up so fast he knocks his head against the ceiling, but for once he's too confused to make a big deal about it.
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Junghwan gasps, "Nothing below the belt, remember?"
Sunwoo is making a concerted effort to study the creases on the pillow, brows furrowed. Then his eyes slide up, and his smile turns this side of mischievous. "You're not wearing a belt."
Disappointment whooshes through Junghwan like a wave, for reasons Junghwan can’t bring himself to fathom. He does not think about curiosity lurking in the pit of his belly, or the way his heart is kicking away like a donkey partial to aggression. He says, "There's this thing called a metaphor," and kicks Sunwoo with a well-placed foot.
"I see," Sunwoo says, twisting up and grinning. "You should have seen the look on your face."
Sunwoo's first line of defence, Junghwan had found out on his very first day, is to laugh. Sunwoo had only just joined then, and Jinyoung had made up-turned noses at his unruliness. This translated into full-blown condescension when Sunwoo mucked up his steps, which by itself was not considered new amongst trainees, and then proceeded to fall flat on his ass, tripping Dongwoo over.
But even as Jinyoung watched, hawk-eyed, and Dongwoo recovered and proffered a hand, Sunwoo stayed on the floor, properly humiliated, and laughed.
It is mainly why Junghwan forces himself to hit Sunwoo on the arm and say, "You scared me, you great big idiot."
"Your idiot," Sunwoo says playfully, earning himself another punch.
"I should have you on a leash," Junghwan declares, "And a collar." He slumps back into Sunwoo's arms.
"Kinky," Sunwoo murmurs into his neck, tightening his embrace.
Junghwan shakes his head, wriggling a bit and purposely sticking an elbow into Sunwoo's ribs. Sunwoo says nothing. For reasons Junghwan cannot and will not explicate, he turns around. He turns around, and from that moment on it's a mess of elbows at awkward angles and noses in unexpected places, until Junghwan wraps his own arm around Sunwoo's chest too and ducks his head under his chin. He tries very hard not to think about how gay everything is and, as fate would have it, falls short.
Junghwan tries to communicate his understanding and friendship through the hug, extricating himself only when Sunwoo's muscles stop tensing. He tries to will his vocal chords into movement and realises belatedly that they've all gone on strike.
"Don't snore," Sunwoo says, in the tone of voice someone would normally use to say 'good night'.
Junghwan rolls over to his other side and lets Sunwoo slip an arm over. "Nothing to worry about, then."
Then Sunwoo eats something bad and spends the next day letting loose his innards into the toilet bowl. He is sent back to his own bed by Inro, who makes it very clear that he does not relish the idea of sleeping beneath anyone who might up and puke his guts out all over his face.
The first thing Junghwan does when he gets into bed is sprawl like a starfish.
"This is luxury!" he exclaims to the ceiling.
The ceiling remains as it always is, staring down at him in cold silence.
No one to elbow his stomach, or press cold toes between his legs, or near suffocate him with the force of a cuddle. No one to attack his eardrums with snores loud enough to surpass in volume a stampede of elephants, and definitely no one to fight over the covers with. Junghwan feels like a bird set free from a cage of humanoid octopi.
A minute later, he feels downright miserable.
He must have left a window open somewhere; what is that dreadful draft coming in? His back is cold. If this is what Sunwoo had to suffer the past few nights, he must be more of a masochist than Junghwan could ever believe.
Junghwan flops over to his back. But no; now his face is cold.
Through the wall separating his and Sunwoo's room, Junghwan hears someone retching, and everyone else groaning.
Junghwan kind of wishes he can be over there to laugh at Sunwoo. Or Sunwoo, here, so he can laugh even more without worrying about the threats behind Jinyoung's dirty looks.
"I'm fine," Sunwoo says the next evening, clutching his stomach. "Fine."
Junghwan and Inro both give him identical looks of skepticism.
Sunwoo glances down and immediately whisks his hands from his stomach. "Seriously. Jinyoung-hyung hates me more than ever now. It isn't my fault his shirt happened to be the closest absorbable thing!"
"I don't know," Junghwan says. "I don't want to be the closest absorbable thing tonight any more than Jinyoung-hyung wants his shirt to, I think."
"Have I regurgitated the contents of my stomach at all today?" Sunwoo demands.
"No," Inro says, "But --"
"But nothing! I'm not sleeping in there. Period."
"There goes my freedom," Junghwan says sadly.
"Come again?" Sunwoo says, squinting at Junghwan in all manner of threats and violence.
"I can't wait to be squashed against the wall tonight," Junghwan tells him.
"I can't wait to be the squasher," Sunwoo fires back.
"Please tell me those aren't innuendos of some sort," Inro says uneasily.
"What, you know Sunwoo plays for the other team too?" Junghwan asks incredulously.
Inro snorts. "Who doesn't?"
"Oh, I don't know, the public masses? And the media?" Junghwan says, his level of hysteria increasing exponentially. What is this, Keep-Junghwan-In-The-Dark-About-Closets-And-The-Coming-Out-Thereof month? What else does he not know?
"Oookay," Inro says. "I'll just go... do the paperwork."
"Does everyone else know?" Junghwan asks, pointing a violent finger to Sunwoo's chest once he leaves the room. "Even poor, innocent Chansik?"
"You know Chansik isn't --" Sunwoo hedges, before being interrupted by Junghwan.
"Of course I know," he says. "What I don't know is who else knows what I know about you!"
"You mean, besides Jinyoung-hyung and Inro-hyung and you?"
"Yes!"
Sunwoo looks shifty-eyed. "Um, everyone?"
"Everyone?"
"Well, no, not everyone," Sunwoo back-pedals. "Just, uh, all the members. Maybe one or two stylist-noonas."
"One or two stylist-noonas," Junghwan repeats, disbelief -- and hurt? Yes, hurt -- coursing through his veins. "Oh, no need to tell Junghwan, my best friend, about my sexuality, which happens to be not-heterosexual," Junghwan says scathingly, mimicking Sunwoo's baritone, "He's not worth the effort, no, why don't I let him continue believing I'm straight and -- and lick my fingers like a --" Junghwan crashes to a stop, blood draining from his face. "Oh, god."
Sunwoo looks like he's been struck by a hurricane, wrecked, hair sticking out from his head where his hands have run through. "Look, I meant to tell you. Really, I did -- well. Eventually, anyway. It's not -- I wasn't -- not like I was deliberately keeping this from you, I -- it just never came up. The topic, I mean. At least not until two days ago."
"I practically gave you a blowjob," Junghwan whimpers, sinking down onto Inro's bed.
"No, not really, that's really not what a blowjob is like," Sunwoo blabbers.
"I sucked your fingers," Junghwan says. "That's as bad as sucking your -- your. You know." He tries to set the floor beneath his feet on fire, if only to give him a distraction from the thought. It’s a thought truly to be embarrassed of -- him on his knees, mouthing the line of Sunwoo’s fly. Unzipping it, and tasting Sunwoo’s cock, and -- oh.
Oh.
"Trust me," Sunwoo says, obviously trying to be comforting and succeeding only in making Junghwan feel more mortified than he's ever been in his entire life, "It really isn't."
"Not helping," Junghwan tells him. Nothing, he thinks, can save him from lusting after his best friend.
"You know now!" Sunwoo exclaims. "That's all that matters!"
"After telling everyone else?" Junghwan says, "It really isn't."
"I just didn't want you to freak out, Junghwan."
"You would think, after three years, that I would put our friendship first," Junghwan says, heavy with hurt. "Guess not. You'd rather trust the stylist-noonas."
"Junghwan," Sunwoo says, sounding just a little annoyed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm being ridiculous?"
"Yes, I think so!"
"I --" Junghwan stands up abruptly, forcing Sunwoo to take a step back. "Fine.” He'll just be ridiculous elsewhere then, since it chafes on Sunwoo’s person so.
He sidesteps Sunwoo, strides to the door, and clicks it behind him. It closes with a snick. He doesn't slam the door, because he is above that. He is above all mannerisms of Cha Sunwoo, the little underestimating idiot. He doesn't look back to see if Sunwoo is staring after him, or attempting to make holes in the wall, or moving to follow him, or -- or anything. He walks quietly into Sunwoo's room, closes the door, and slides into Sunwoo's bed. He doesn't think about the irony of everything.
For once, the universe is on his side, and he drifts into a fitful stupor, breathing in Sunwoo's stupidly wonderful scent.
Part Two