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it was; it is

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Jangjun has had one too many drinks in the past couple hours when he finally decides to go home. If it had been a few months earlier, he would have gone home with someone, flushed, hot and heavy. But tonight, it’s just him walking home alone, navigating the streets he knows all too well, accompanied only by the feelings he’s bent over backwards trying to unacquaint himself with.

Who would've thought, really? 

Absolutely no one could have seen it coming, Jangjun - silly, happy-go-lucky, non-committal Lee Jangjun - developing feelings for his senior. Not him. Not the senior in question. Not anyone. 

It all happened so fast. One night Jangjun felt nothing; the morning after, he felt everything he wasn't supposed to be feeling. They were just friends—who happened to like fucking when they were bored, or whenever they were horny but too lazy to go out to find somone to spend the night with and couldn't be satisfied with their own hands, or when there was just too much to do and they needed a quick break. The arrangement worked well - too well, even, especially back when they were still roommates. It was so convenient. And fun. And exciting. And the sex was always good. 

It went on for a couple of months, until Jangjun decided it's already become too inconvenient. Feelings. Falling in love. That's something Jangjun has never expected, never been ready for. 

A car stops by the side of the street, and Jangjun is brought back to his senses as much as his intoxication would allow. In his inebriated state, his initial thought is that this is it, someone he's been flirting with has finally had too much of his bullshit teasing, his terribly obvious craving for someone else's touch, and decided to just force him into having sex tonight.

He’s already weighing his choices when a painfully familiar voice calls from the car’s rolled down window, “Jangjun-ah?”

It pierces his ears, his heart. He stops dead in his tracks, all the alcohol suddenly leaving his body in a rush. He wishes he could breathe a sigh of relief that this isn’t some jerk from the bar he’d just left. But he can’t. His chest only feels tighter; his breathing, heavier. Still, he puts on what he thinks is a convincingly casual smile. 

"Sungyoon-hyung," he says, in a carefully nonchalant voice he hopes is devoid of all the pent up longing and frustration needing release. "Hey. What's up?"

Choi Sungyoon looks at him, worry visible in the knot between his brows. “What are you doing here?” he asks, "Where are you going?"

Jangjun wishes so badly that Sungyoon's voice didn't sound so full of genuine concern. It makes his throat hurt just to choke out the words, "I'm heading home."

"Oh. Let me give you a ride, then," Sungyoon offers. The tension on his face and in his voice eases, replaced by a warm expression. It's the same as the he always wore when Jangjun would come home to the room they used to share, and all Sungyoon wanted was to watch something on YouTube and order some food, nothing more and nothing less. 

Jangjun's stomach flips and turns. All he wants right now is to hold Sungyoon close, fully clothed. All he wants in his entire life is to be allowed to wipe sauce off the corners of Sungyoon's mouth with his thumb - or maybe with his own mouth - and watch him fall asleep in the dim light of his laptop's screen. 

He wants too much.

"No, thanks," he replies. “Walking is good for sobering up, you know?”


His heart hurts. Heartburn, the part of his brain that never allows him to be serious tells him. You drank too fucking much, you idiot.

“I’m good, hyung,” he insists. “Really. Don’t worry about me.”

Lee Jangjun," Sungyoon says, somehow softer but more insistent, demanding even.

But it sounds like a plea. 

And who is Jangjun to deny Sungyoon anything?

Sungyoon, despite the initial intimidating demeanor, has always been nothing but good to Jangjun. How could Jangjun ever say no? Even when he perfectly knew hooking up with his roommate was definitely not going to end well whichever way he put it, he couldn't say no. Even when, somewhere along the line, Jangjun realized that he started to crave more than just sex and heated kisses, more than just a body to make him feel warm and high. Even when he started to crave Sungyoon's body - Sungyoon's hands, Sungyoon's lips, Sungyoon's tongue, Sungyoon's everything - all over him. Even when, more than anything else, he started to crave the comfort that Sungyoon’s arms bring, the familiarity of his voice when he moans out Jangjun’s name in both silent whispers and loud whines, the warmth Jangjun feels whenever Sungyoon fills him, the fluttery feeling he gets whenever Sungyoon flashes him a satisfied smile in all of his afterglow glory.

Jangjun can't help but be mad at himself for realizing so belatedly: He was fucked— this time, figuratively.

So what he did was he moved out of their shared dorm, so suddenly that Sungyoon could do nothing about it anymore when he found out.

That's what Jangjun does, anyway. He runs away from his feelings; pretends they don't exist until he believes they really don't. It's useless, though; he knows he's just fooling himself, only making things unnecessarily harder and more complicated. But he can't help that he's never been good at being head on with his feelings. 

To his credit, it did take some time before he ended up running back. 

It's not something to be proud of, though. Jangjun felt pathetic, trying to claim Sungyoon's lips with his own once again. He felt so deprived, like something of his was taken away from him when he was the one who decided to leave. When he was pushing Sungyoon against the wall for the first time after he moved out, somehow he couldn't say he was surprised to find an unfamiliar coat hanging on the back of chair that used to be his, a nagging proof that nothing about Sungyoon has ever truly been Jangjun's to claim.

"It's cold out," Sungyoon's voice comes again. There’s nothing in his tone that’s inviting, but still Jangjun feels his resolve falter. "And it's dangerous,” he adds, as if an afterthought, or another lame excuse.

Jangjun breathes in deeply. He weighs his options: he can say no, or he can get in the car. It’s just a ride home, he tries to lie to himself. It's innocent enough; just a friend looking out for a friend. Except, he knows it’s not just a ride home, and he knows that Sungyoon knows he doesn't need looking out for.

Part of him wants to believe that Sungyoon wants to take care of him.  

A bigger part of him knows what it's all about; knows where it will all lead, what will happen once Sungyoon has driven him home. And that same part of him knows that he can’t want what’s going to happen, that he can’t let himself want what he knows is going to happen. 

But he can’t help it either. 

"What about…" Jangjun says, thinking of the unfamiliar coat— and everything else that seemed out of place  in the room he and Sungyoon used to share. A last, frail attempt at trying not to indulge himself.

"He's not home the entire weekend," Sungyoon answers.

Jangjun, for all the pride he takes in bravery and standing his ground, crumbles right down to his feet at how Sungyoon doesn't even hesitate. He breaks into a million little pieces, all for Sungyoon to take in his hands. He knows he shouldn't, but what can he do?

It is so convenient.

And fun.

And exciting.

And the sex is always good.