it's buzzcut season anyway

The radio was cranked up to full volume, Oh Wonder playing loudly through the dusty speakers while Jaehwan chewed on his nails, foot tapping impatiently by the gas pedal. The doors were locked and windows, rolled up, kept the somewhat cool blast of the air conditioner within. Sunlight shone harsh and uncomfortable across his arm, and he shifted his body to move away from the light, yanking on the seatbelt so fast that it stuck. Falling back into the seat in defeat, he squinted at the closed doors of the convenience store, willing it to open before he burned in his own car.

The song changed, and Jaehwan, now shaking his leg nervously, unwrapped a starburst and popped it in his mouth, chewing on it as a distraction (Hongbin pledged that he would cuff his hands to stop him from biting his nails again). He scrunched up the wrapper and threw it into the cupholder— into a pile of other gum and candy wrappers— never to be moved (or, until Sanghyuk stopped talking about vacuuming and actually vacuumed).

The doors of the convenience store slid open and out ran Hongbin and Sanghyuk, grinning widely with cloth bags swinging back and forth by their sides. Jaehwan pushed the button to unlock the doors and sat upright, starting the car as Hongbin slid into the passenger seat and Sanghyuk at the back. The doors slammed shut and Jaehwan locked the car again. Click, bang bang and click was their routine melody.

Jaehwan pressed on the gas, reversing out of the parking lot with the sound of laughter ringing louder than the radio; and gunned it down the road, uncaring of the fact that they had just robbed the convenience store in broad daylight.

~

Far away from home, with their convenience store grabs, the three set down from the car when it fell dark. There was the sound of the ocean in the distance, somewhere beyond the wall of shrubs lit up by the headlights of Jaehwan’s car.

The bonnet was still warm from driving for most of the day, so Sanghyuk pushed himself up onto the car with his legs dangling off the front, feeling the heat under his palms. Hongbin joined him, handing an opened can of raspberry soda to Sanghyuk while he sipped on his lemonade. Jaehwan was a ways away, standing by the edge of the headlight beam. His hand, pinching a cigarette between his fingers, casted a shadow onto the shrubs, distorted by the array of leaves.

Sanghyuk wanted to say something, but breaking the delicate silence would have ruined it. A beautiful moment, even if it was a simple feat of the three of them having some rest. Instead, Sanghyuk pulled the third can from Hongbin’s fingers, and waved it in front of the light, so that the can made a bigger shadow. Sanghyuk didn’t need to see Jaehwan’s expression in the dark, for it was so obvious he was smiling by the way he dropped his cigarette and stomped the ember out.

~

Hongbin rested his feet on the dashboard, seat reclined in a way that he looked like he was lounging on the beach with his black cap tipped up on his head. He had been asleep for most of the morning, lightly snoring underneath his hoodie but it had warmed up since then—  sun rising above the windscreen— and it had quickly gotten too hot to bear. He had thrown the hoodie onto the floor while Sanghyuk said between laughter from the backseat; “good morning sleepyhead.”

Jaehwan was running on his third can of energy drink and he felt slightly buzzed, mostly from all the salt and sugar in the snacks he had been eating for the past day, but he loved it. Loved the song playing on the radio, loved the way Sanghyuk sang loudly (a badly) to said song; loved Hongbin’s grumpy look as Jaehwan joined in with his off-tune belting. Hell, he loved them.

The speakers blared Technicolour Beat as he turned the corner onto their street. It was the last stretch, so Jaehwan pressed a little harder on the pedal to scare them one last time, giggling in tune to Sanghyuk’s yelling to stop. Finally, he stopped the car, still high on the adrenaline of the kind-of getaway, and took his keys with nothing less than a sigh.

A plastic bag dropped onto his lap and Jaehwan, startled, asked “what’s this?”

Sanghyuk clapped his shoulder, leaning between the front seats to poke at his cheek.

“Starburst. your favourite.”

The phone buzzes, a confused hum from somewhere near, and he wakes. He cracks an eye open to a beam of light emanating from the other side of the bed like the beckon of heaven’s gates; a little further than an arm’s length away. He blinks, and the phone goes quiet, the light dying out from its nestled position beyond the crumpled blanket wall.

Hakyeon turns over under his side of the blanket to face the wall, ignoring the wash of cold air that hits the back of his neck. Burying his cheek into the pillow, he shuts his eyes, hoping that he can get back to sleep before Wonsik walks back in from the bathroom, before he needs to face the truth on the other side of the phone.

--

Just like how anything bad starts out, it was an addiction.

A weakness, fixation, on Wonsik.

The memory is clear in his mind: how they were modest, skipping around each other, testing the waters. Wonsik smiled with his cheeks bunched up, so brightly that his teeth glinted from the tiny gap between his lips. There are still so many words he could use to describe Wonsik, but he struggles to say them without a bitter taste filling his mouth.

He fell, deep and hard, to the simplest actions and words, and the false sense of hope kept him down. They held onto each other as if they were everything; shared warmth like their lives depended on it. He used to huddle up under Wonsik’s arm, sat atop the car’s hood with flasks of hot tea, watching the few stars that had appeared to bless them that night. It was so clear to him, them, that they lived for the welcoming embrace of the warm spring wind.

The memory was clear, when Hakyeon saw the city lights reflected off his eyes; how they gleamed in the low light under the moon and stars. The warmth that enveloped him, fading.

Hakyeon never liked to feel helpless; the thought made the blood run cold in his veins. However, it seemed fair, to feel angry, helplessly angry about Wonsik. He should’ve known sooner.

Loving him was dangerous.

--

Park, 11pm.

A man was sitting on the middle of the bench, slouched over with his head down. The light of two lamp posts on both sides of the bench just reached him, casting a muted glow around his frame. Billows of smoke haloed him in the light, and the man seemed ethereal almost.

Wonsik approached the bench, approached him, slowly. His steps were clear over the leaves and cobble, disturbing the silence. He stood still just a ways away, awkwardly watching as the figure moved in the dead of the night, stared up at him.

The night was silent, time stilled into a sheet of thin glass, delicate. Behind the glass was Taekwoon, a sculpture thrown under an unforgiving light while Wonsik could only observe.

--

The door slams shut behind them, with Hakyeon’s head slamming against said door as Wonsik pushes him back. All bite and no room for bark, Hakyeon fights with bared teeth, lips barely moving. Wonsik goes in for another desperate kiss, but Hakyeon takes control and bites his lip, pulling a gasp from Wonsik. He grabs Wonsik’s neck to pull him down, other hand fisted around his collar to take what’s left.

Wonsik forcefully pushes away as if he doesn’t have a death wish, struggling to catch his breath as he watches the lines on Hakyeon’s face crumpling deeply.

“You don’t love me,” Hakyeon says into the empty space between them. Scathing truth.

Wonsik sighs, stepping forward with an excuse lodged in his throat, then he sees Hakyeon’s eyes shielding themselves with a glint. He stands still and swallows.

“I-”

Hakyeon, pressed against the wall with the last of his strength, stares hard into Wonsik’s eyes, searching. His face darkens more with a frown, and Wonsik’s heart breaks. He is afraid, for them. Wonsik looks down at Hakyeon’s shoes. They’re the pair Hakyeon had bought overseas. The edges were dusted with dirt, probably from his morning runs.

Hakyeon sobs.

“Get out.”

Wonsik watches as Hakyeon reaches for the door knob, hastily tugging the handle as if it’s burning him. The door screeches open, Wonsik’s face flushed with shame as he faces the light of the hallway. Hakyeon hides behind the shadow of the door, facing away, but Wonsik can see his clenched jaw, the muscles in his neck pulled taut.

They fell, together.

I remember when your head caught flame, it kissed your scalp and caressed your brain make-believe it’s hyperreal; but I live in a hologram with you

the digital clock on the nightstand showed 12:51; harsh red lines serving to remind him of the way time flowed. one glance, and the mind could interpret those lines forming numbers into the precise moment of the day, or how much of the night there was left. it was a long time before the numbers changed to 12:52.

there was the telltale jangle of keys—the click of the lock turning—and the door was whining itself open. jaehwan would have gotten up, turned on the hall light and greeted him, but he found himself too tired to move. he remained staring at the clock, eyes going out of focus until the numbers were a blurry mess, and listened to the faint sounds of wonsik moving about the kitchen.

there was this one moment, he couldn’t really remember when, where their time stopped. giving way to a space that expanded beyond the four walls of their apartment bedroom, he watched as time slipped from him until he was feeling the deep void open from within. darkness. it tasted like burnt cola, spilled over.

under the covers, they whispered to each other their fears, their wishes. wonsik used to lean his head in close, touching their foreheads, to tell him about his dreams with the burning vigour of a supernova while jaehwan hummed sleepily.

there was one memory that would stay with him, haunt him, when wonsik finally decided to close the door for the last time, when he finally let go. the memory of the time they drove out in the middle of the night with no purpose: empty roads stretching and winding for miles ahead, and jaehwan could see the lights of the suburbs from below as the car lurched up the hills. wonsik changed gear, and the car sped forward with determination, and he felt the physical extension of wonsik’s yearning to see the lights too, but the hills didn’t plateau for long and they were soon racing downhill with a bitterness that settled with the growl of the car as wonsik changed gear once again. a moment to share: when there was nobody else but them, jaehwan was sure time could go on forever.

eventually, wonsik entered the room, and jaehwan had finally pulled himself out of bed. 1:26. they sat slouched over, with jaehwan’s head on wonsik’s shoulder—watching the shadows dance as cars drove by in the dead of the night—when jaehwan realised wonsik wasn’t there at all. head in the clouds, wonsik was sipping away at his glass of water reverently, ice cubes floating around in circles when he put it down. jaehwan was parched.

for a moment, they were there: physical beings bent into shape by time and space. it was only for so long that the laws of such allowed them to be.

sanghyuk felt small, childlike; when jaehwan had practically handed him over to taekwoon in the middle of an empty basketball court- like he was the ball being passed here- but just like that, taekwoon shrugged, placing a hand on his back, pushing him away. away from jaehwan who, that fucker, kicked him out so that wonsik could move in.

 “it’s only temporary,” taekwoon shrugged again, later, placing the cards onto the coffee table, cheeks bulging slightly as his lips curled up in a smile. “you’ll like it here.”

 taekwoon straightened his stack of cards, slotting it between his thumb and forefinger, then flicked his thumb, expertly fanning out the hand of cards. his other hand was tapping a rhythm onto the wood as he examined his hand, then, peering over his cards, he nudged at sanghyuk’s knee with a press of knuckles, eyes glinting in challenge.

 sanghyuk bit into his candy bar just a bit more aggressively, imagining that he was biting something else off.

 +

 it took a while to get used to the new apartment. there was a lingering bitter smell in the room which made it hard to think at times, and sanghyuk reminded himself day after day that the next time he saw jaehwan, he will punch the living daylights out of him.

 and the main problem: taekwoon. he was always there- and although taekwoon oftentimes busied himself with a book or disappeared for an entire evening- sanghyuk always felt his presence in the room, like the smell that never went away.

 but with knowledge that taekwoon cared a tiny bit for sanghyuk’s health (as per jaehwan and wonsik’s request), he began to settle in properly after two weeks of nagging.

 like getting taekwoon to buy air freshener that smelled like a bouquet of roses so he could spray it all over the apartment. and forcing taekwoon to smoke on the balcony with the door closed.

 +

 the same hand, placed between his shoulder blades, was warm compared to the mirror. his breath fogged up the glass and his hands, sweaty, left streaks that taekwoon would probably kill him for. if he didn’t kill him now.

 hand pushing harder and the other gripping his hip tightly, sanghyuk balled his hands into fists- leaving more marks- as he watched taekwoon through the mirror. the bastard was smirking.

 “did jaehwan ever do this?” taekwoon leaned in and whispered behind his ear, bringing a hand to his chin, pushing up.

 sanghyuk swallowed, his throat feeling dry as he breathed heavily on the glass. then, he was being pulled off the mirror, hand on his hip guiding him out of the bathroom.

 “I bet he didn’t,” taekwoon teased, leading sanghyuk to the couch, pushing him onto it. and climbed on after.

 sanghyuk sucked in a breath, mouth parted slightly as taekwoon settled on his lap, trapping him to the back of the couch.

 the muzzle of the 9mm was warm against his lips, questionably so; but sanghyuk wasn't allowed to protest as taekwoon pushed the barrel in further, metal heavy on his tongue.

 there was a click and a shift as the barrel slid back, safety: off, and sanghyuk flinched, humming in distaste and squirming, bringing his hands up to shove taekwoon’s chest.

 +

 they were playing cards again, but this time, sanghyuk was winning. taekwoon sighed for the fifth time, directed another glare at him as if it would help anything; but he had lost. the cards were dropped; patterns spilling delicately over the old wood with the barest of whispers, belying that of taekwoon’s expression.

 “I’m going,” taekwoon announced as he stood up, and sanghyuk feigned shock as he collected the few bills on the table.

 “are you talking to me?” sanghyuk blinked up at him.

 taekwoon huffed, striding over to collect his lighter and duffle bag. patting each pocket and needlessly shuffling around, he made a display of putting his boots on which made sanghyuk snicker under his breath.

 “don’t come home too late,” sanghyuk sang in the direction of the door.

 “shut up.”

  +

 "I bet wonsik didn't do this," sanghyuk chuckled, lips pressed against taekwoon's ear. the muzzle was poised under his chin, the angle of his jaw prominent in the low light as sanghyuk pushed the gun up higher. through the mirror, he watched taekwoon shudder minutely in his grip.

 taekwoon smelled like blood, and sanghyuk smelled like roses.

 +

 his feet were propped up on the balcony railing as he leaned back on the wooden chair, watching the rain fall. his legs were cold- he chose to wear shorts even though taekwoon gave him weird looks- but his hands were warm. taekwoon, beside him, took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoothly, and he knew-

 “don’t say anyth-”

 “told you you’d like it here.”

—

It wasn't the smoke that kept Hongbin from leaving at the start; the biting stench filling his nostrils as Wonsik lifted the cigarette to his lips. Jaehwan was sitting patiently, a leg crossed over the other, a smirk growing on his face while Hongbin held back from breathing in too deeply.

It wasn't the burn travelling down his throat either; filling his lungs with clouds of nothing yet everything- choking up breath after breath when he passes the remainder to Jaehwan. And Wonsik merely shrugged and gave him a pat on the shoulder, continuing his dramatic recount of how Taekwoon ran in late to music theory and nearly swore in front of everyone after seeing the pile of papers he had to collect.

It was when Jaehwan had invited them over to his dorm (Hakyeon was out for the weekend) and among papers etched with unfinished drawings and clothes that smelled a few weeks overdue for a wash; Jaehwan had opened a new pack of smokes, handing one to each of them. Wonsik immediately lit his, careful yet practiced movement of cupping his hand around the end and flicking the lighter- Hongbin observed the way he sat hunched over with his knees together- the little flame lighting up his face momentarily. Jaehwan did the same, but differently; biting on the filter wedged in the corner of his mouth as he leant forward for Wonsik to light his.

Hongbin twirled the stick between his fingers absently, focusing on the tendrils of smoke wafting about the small room. He knew, well enough, that Jaehwan liked doing this, for his hands couldn't be kept still- his pencils serving remedy to the jitters in his calloused fingers- and the cigarette: solace.

Wonsik's hand was rough around his when he grasped his palm, diverting his attention.

"Want a taste?"

Wonsik's head was tilted in question, almost shy in the way his cheeks rose slightly, and Hongbin couldn't say no.

So, with Jaehwan watching behind clouds of smoke, Wonsik crawled into Hongbin's space, cigarette hanging from his lips, and inhaled deeply while Hongbin's breath caught short.

Hongbin, removing the cigarette gently from his mouth, let Wonsik catch his lips in a kiss, hands balanced on his knees. Hongbin gasped, and the smoke began to seep into his mouth, down his throat. Wonsik tasted like mint gum and remnants of coffee maybe- Hongbin would never have guessed. Once Wonsik was out of breath, he pulled away, and Jaehwan immediately took over, pulling him in for a searing kiss that made him choke on a breath once more.

Jaehwan tasted of sugar and spice, and Hongbin grasped Jaehwan's wrists to keep him from moving away, tongue licking the insides of his mouth: a taste he couldn't get enough of.

Wonsik's hand joined theirs- a tangle of fingers one above the other atop a sketch of the campus fountain, and Hongbin wouldn't have it any other way.

wonsik was a heavy weight on his side, leaning far too close to escape the smell of liquor in his breath. hongbin shifted away, having wonsik follow after, clutching his arm. giving in, hongbin wrapped an arm around his shoulder, feeling just how small wonsik was, curled up on the seat.

“hongbin-ah,” wonsik babbled, now lying on his lap, flush high on his cheeks, and hongbin patted his shoulder in reply. with a pout on his face, wonsik repeated; “hongbin.”

“what?”

a pause. wonsik bit his lip and hongbin found himself staring at the action, lower lip glistening under the dim lights of the club. hongbin wasn’t sure if it was the lighting- wonsik’s face went deep red, and, unable to resist, he rested his palm (cold from his drink) on his cheek.

“can I kiss you?”

the question hung in the air, palpable, and hongbin- he would have sworn he was a little tipsy- nodded.

wonsik sat up, easily despite having five beers, and pressed his lips gently to hongbin’s; quick and chaste, and before hongbin could lean in further, wonsik was walking away, the warmth in his arms gone just as fast. the lights dimmed further and the chatter sounded louder- it was time to go home.

-

wonsik made it very clear, how bad his hangover was, the next day when he laid unmoving on the couch. hongbin laughed as he walked to the kitchen to make some tea. he sat atop the counter while the water boiled, spinning the stool with his foot. there was a thump and a groan- wonsik falling off the couch in an attempt to get up. hongbin peered over at where wonsik was faceplanted on the floor.

the kettle clicked and hongbin hopped off the counter to pour the water into the mugs, when wonsik spoke, voice muffled by his face being smushed to the wood.

“I did something bad, didn’t I?”

hongbin brought out the mugs to the living room, placing them on wonsik’s coasters (stupid little wooden mats with beads around the edges). he stepped over wonsik’s slumped form to sit on the couch, grabbing a cushion to hug.

wonsik turned over, rubbing his face and stared up at him: there was toothpaste still smeared on the corner of his mouth from last night’s hastiness. hongbin shrugged and hugged the cushion tighter, chin buried in the fabric to hide his smile.

“you kissed me.”

wonsik’s eyes widened and he turned to face the table, blush creeping up his neck and hongbin could see his ears turning a faint pink.

“um-"

hongbin, head filled the same way it was when wonsik walked away last night, nudged wonsik’s back with his toe to make him look back.

wonsik kicked up sand as he walked along the shore, the sun beginning to set over the horizon, turning the sky into a canvas of warm colours. hakyeon bumped into his side, hugging his arm as he stumbled over the sand, sleeves bunched up over his elbows and shirt half hanging off his shoulder. wonsik reached to pull it back up when hakyeon shrugged and dashed away, turning to wink back at him.

he darted forward, starting a chase with hakyeon’s laughter echoing across the empty beach, and, blending with the sound of the waves, wonsik found that he wanted that sound on repeat. he eventually caught up to hakyeon, close enough to catch him by the waist and pull him around. hakyeon let out a shriek as they tripped, struggling to stay balanced while wonsik held his arms tightly around him, and moments later, they landed on the sand, wheezing with laughter.

with hakyeon’s hand in his, wonsik stared up at the purpling sky, cheeks hurting from smiling too much but he wasn’t going to complain. hakyeon tapped a finger on his shoulder and he turned his head to find hakyeon pouting, pointing at his head. “there’s sand in my hair.” wonsik squeezed the hand still clutched in his and laughed again, rolling his feet in the sand (his pants sleeves, though rolled up, were soaked and sand was stuck to the backs of his calves) and shook his head. “let’s head back,” wonsik suggested, sitting up. hakyeon pouted at him again, so he tugged at his hand to pull him up. “i’ll carry you.” hakyeon’s eyes lit up and he let himself be pulled up and off the sand, and wonsik, really meaning it, hauled hakyeon over his shoulder and staggered away from the water. “i thought you were joking!” hakyeon yelled, hands clutching onto the back of his shirt.

“if you move, i’ll throw you into the water,” wonsik replied, adjusting his grip on the backs of hakyeon’s knees. hakyeon slumped, admitting defeat, and wonsik happily carried him back to the beach house, leaving a trail of sand on pathway leading to the door.

+

“there was a whole desert in my hair,” hakyeon said, toweling his hair while wonsik sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through the channels on tv. the bar hadn’t opened yet, so hakyeon instead opted for a night in with a film and snacks. hakyeon disappeared into the bathroom to put away the towel before padding back into the room, blue button-up half tucked into his pants. hakyeon stood in between wonsik and the tv, blocking his view and wonsik turned the volume down and dropped the remote, waiting.

“hey,” hakyeon smiled down at him. “hey,” wonsik smiled back.

hakyeon stepped forward, further crowding his view, and wonsik, too used to this but not, shifted backwards for hakyeon to sit comfortably on his lap. hakyeon threw his arms over his shoulders, immediately leaning in for a kiss and wonsik held his hips, tilting his head. he licked at the seam of his lips before pulling back, cradling wonsik face in warm hands and wonsik leaned into the touch.

hakyeon kissed him again, slowly, and his hands moved to cover wonsik’s, guiding his hands upwards. wonsik got the message and pulled hakyeon’s shirt up, snaking his arms around his back to bring hakyeon closer, and hakyeon bit gently on his lip in reply. hakyeon moved to kiss his cheek, then his jaw and wonsik quickly went to unbutton hakyeon’s shirt. hakyeon, forever impatient, pushed wonsik’s hands away and pulled his shirt over his head.

to state it simply, wonsik took photos of what he liked. stuff like his shiny new kicks, or, his washed out blue jeans. or himself in his outfit when he was feeling good. little things, like the food he was eating, or a candid of hakyeon walking down the streets filled with bustling nightlife. posing in front of bus stops and signs; his phone memory full of unsorted photos.

oh, but he wished he could take photos of what he liked most: hakyeon’s beautifully sunkissed skin.

hakyeon pushed him down onto the mattress, making quick work of unbuttoning wonsik’s shirt and pulling it off- shirt landing somewhere on the floor. wonsik sank into the comforter, expecting him to continue kissing him breathless, but hakyeon remained sitting atop his thighs, lost in thought. wonsik lifted his head to ask what was wrong when hakyeon placed his hand firmly on his chest. his hand was warm, warmer than before; heat spreading across his chest in an unfamiliar way. hakyeon was unmoving, staring at his hand placed over his heart and wonsik blinked at him.

“it’s beautiful like this,” hakyeon whispered, gazing at the ring around his fourth finger and the ring resting on wonsik’s sternum, and wonsik felt his heart beat rapidly under the warmth. wonsik took his hand, linking their fingers together and brought his other hand around his waist, sitting up to kiss hakyeon.

wonsik was the one to pull back this time, and he brought their connected hands to hold the ring dangling on the necklace around his neck. wonsik squeezed his hand and kissed the corner of his mouth. “you’re beautiful like this.”

---

the glass was cold under his fingertips as wonsik shifted his gaze to the people around. nothing interesting tonight— the crowd quiet, incomprehensible— tangled into a giant mass on the dance floor. in the corner of his eye, someone slid a drink (the same one he was holding) near his arm, tentative. wonsik held his free hand up, declining. the drink tasted like shit anyway. wonsik slid off the seat, making his way through the crowd and out the front door, drink forgotten.

the air outside was much cooler; wonsik could see the little clouds of fog rising as he breathed out. the street light hanging above flickered and he pulled out his pack of cigarettes when the door clicked open. wonsik gave a quick glance in recognition and dug in his jean pockets for a lighter.

“fancy seeing you here,” taekwoon said, holding out his own lighter.

wonsik, cocking an eyebrow and accepting the lighter anyway, shrugged and took a drag. “friday night.”

he leaned against the brick wall, puffs of smoke drifting through the cool night air and taekwoon stood idly, watching him with his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, almost as if he had no idea what to do with himself. he flicked his fingers, letting the ash fall to the ground and taekwoon— taekwoon was still watching him.

minutes passed, and wonsik wedged the filter into the brick then wiped his hands on the fabric of his pants, pushing himself off the wall. taekwoon tilted his head, eyes twinkling under the light and wonsik imitated the motion in question.

“my place?”

wonsik nodded.

+

the next time wonsik was reaching for his pack, he was leaning out the window of taekwoon’s room, dust under his elbows. taekwoon was watering the potted plants on the balcony, watering can in one hand and beer can in the other. taekwoon stepped forward to water the camellias in the corner, but his foot was caught behind the leg of a stool and he swayed, missing the plant and pouring water over the edge. wonsik couldn’t help but laugh as taekwoon leaned over the railing, shocked, whispering something about the old lady’s washing.

he heard the balcony door slide shut and taekwoon padding over to flop on his bed. wonsik also stepped toward the bed, cigarette in hand, sitting beside taekwoon as he took a sip from his can.

taekwoon stared pointedly at his hand. “don’t drop ashes on my bed.”

wonsik shot him a grin, knowing that taekwoon didn’t really mean it: the blanket was a giant ash stain.

he lifted the cigarette to his lips— taekwoon’s eyes following the whole time— and took a drag. taekwoon, much too quick, placed his can on the floor and shot forward, capturing his lips as he exhaled. the filter slipped out between his fingers as taekwoon held his shoulders, leaning further until wonsik fell on his back, kissing harder. taekwoon pulled the very breath out of his lungs, along with the smoke, fervently taking and taking until wonsik nudged taekwoon’s side with his knee.

taekwoon pulled off, smirking as wonsik gasped, head spinning and heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“tastes better than the real thing.”

---