Chapter Text
SUHO
The early days of September in Seoul carried the last traces of the summer heat, the quiet switch from t-shirts to sweaters began and an impatience hung in the air for autumn’s breeze to arrive.
Suho was sitting in class, not sleeping for once, thinking about getting ice cream with Sieun later to help decrease the suffocating humidity he was feeling.
The bell had already rung and kids were rushing out of class, pushing and shoving and laughing, while Suho’s attention remained focused on the edge of his desk, littered with markings of students long before.
Suho blinked.
Damn it.
He did it again.
He thought about him again.
Suho couldn’t stop thinking about Sieun.
That was the simple truth.
Beomseok had chosen to stay out of their lives, deciding hanging out with Taehoon and Jungchan was better than the two of them.
Yeongi had gotten a new job at a different restaurant since it payed more. She still lived with Suho but he didn’t get to see her too often.
So he had Sieun all to himself.
Which should have been a good thing.
But it wasn’t.
Suho saw him everywhere now. Even more-so than usual.
In class, outside of school, at his part-time job, in his phone. His head and his life was now filled with nothing but Sieun.
Suho had been timing himself to see how long he could go without thinking about the other boy.
So far, he’d gotten up to 3 minutes. That’s not a lot.
Suho was somehow failing his own challenge over and over, even though he was the only player.
His feelings hadn’t gently seeped in like the light of dawn flowing through his curtains, cascading shadows on his bedroom floor.
They hit him like a bullet train in the middle of a tornado, completely catching him off guard.
It happened after the night Suho had taken Sieun for a drive.
He swore he could see the entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes when he’d lifted the visor of his motorcycle helmet on Sieun’s head.
And as Suho put the plastic bag of food in his hand, forcing him to do his deliveries in the name of training, and had drove away, he couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes.
Or his lips, for that matter.
And that sudden revelation is what almost made him crash his motorcycle.
He had parked it on the side and then just stared at the road ahead, wide eyed.
Suho always had a sneaky feeling that something was off about him. He was always confused over why the models and actresses on TV never excited him. Why he felt nothing even when the prettiest girls in school would ask him out. Why his first kiss made him feel nauseous instead of elated.
He’d gone home later and cried to Yeongi about ‘Sieun’s pretty eyes’ not leaving his head.
Now, no matter where he looked, Sieun was there, etched into everything. In the posters peeling off the walls, in the fogged windows of the convenience store, even in the glow of the moonlight spilling in the silence of his bedroom.
The city was crowded, but to Suho, it felt filled with only one person.
A sudden tap on his desk snapped him out of his reverie.
Sieun.
“It’s lunchtime. I’m surprised you didn’t spring up immediately at the bell.” He said simply and walked away, expecting him to follow.
Which he always would.
Suho took a second to gather his bearings, then left the classroom.
They reach the cafeteria, walking side by side and get in line.
The room buzzed with chatter, trays clattering and the faint smell of kimchi stew wafting around. When they got in line, Suho felt the slight shift in the air at their presence as whispers surrounded them.
The kid that sat in front of Suho, Jungjae, was staring at him too, with his beady eyes hiding behind his choppy bowl-cut.
It’s because of the wannabe gangster they took down, Gilsu, and the strange falling out between them and Beomseok.
It had raised both their statuses immensely and led to people wanting to be closer to the both of them.
Suho only gently redirected anyone wanting to be his friend while Sieun would just glare into their soul and speak bluntly till they got the message.
That was Sieun.
Simple words and a calculating gaze.
And Suho liked him more for it.
The day they’d took down Gilsu was when he knew he’d truly lost it.
“Hey, have you lost your mind or what?” Suho wheezes out. His lungs felt like they were on fire. “Why would you go by yourself, huh?”
Sieun stares at him for a little while, breathless. “You came.” He says it like it’s most natural thing in the world for Suho to do. As if he expected it, was counting on it.
Suho sighs and chuckles. “Wow, what a load of shit.” But as he says it, he knows it’s true, even if he pretends it’s not. Ahn Suho would follow Yeon Sieun to the ends of the earth.
“You really are a psycho. You know that?”
Sieun keeps panting and presses a knuckle onto the wound on his cheek. His eye creases in a slight twitch of pain. Suho has never seen anyone look so beautiful before. “I’m not the only one.”
“Aah.” Suho says turning his head slightly, in disbelief. “You wont let me have the last word, will you?” He tries not to stare at Sieun’s chest rising and falling. “If I were you, I’d let me win. You psycho.”
Suho smiled, knowing every word of his was a lie. He knows that he’d do anything for this boy.
And that revelation thrills him as much as it scares him.
“-out of town so you’ll probably be more comfortable.” Sieun finishes a sentence Suho realises he was supposed to hear the beginning of.
“…What?” Suho blinks.
Sieun stares at him. His eyebrows furrow slightly. “Why are you so zoned out today?”
Because I keep thinking about you.
But obviously he can’t say that.
“Sorry, I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” is the lie he settles on.
Sieun’s gaze softened into worry. Suho felt even shittier about lying.
“You know, you don’t have to sleep at school anymore right? Sieun said quietly. “Stay at my house. I promise to wake you up every morning.”
Suho’s pulse jumps so hard, he’s afraid Sieun might have heard it.
He tries not to let his stupid heart palpitate over something so small.
This is a normal suggestion.
Sieun is his best friend. And he’s really kind.
That’s all.
Suho doesn’t need to get a heart attack every time Sieun offers to do something nice for him.
He stood close enough next to him that their shoulders brushed, and suddenly that was all Suho could focus on.
It wasn’t fair.
One offhanded invitation and he became a mess.
He wanted to say yes. Fuck, he really wanted to. But if Suho is loosing his mind this much over Sieun’s presence then he’s pretty sure he’d straight up die if he has to live with him.
Sure, the two have had sleepovers at each other’s houses a few times. The sight of waking up in the same space as Sieun, seeing him first thing in the morning with sleep still in his voice, with his hair messed up, it drove Suho crazy. But it was easy to deal with for one night and morning. Not more than that. Living there was different.
Suho swallowed hard.
And did what he always did. He smiled, lied and deflected.
“I’ll manage.”
Sieun accepts his rejection, nodding. He doesn’t ask twice to make sure. That’s simply the kind of person he is.
No pressure. Just acceptance.
And for some reason, that seemed to sting worse.
Because a part of him had wanted Sieun to insist. To push. To drag the truth out of him the way Suho couldn’t say it himself.
But Sieun never did. He said what he meant, and let the rest fall away.
Suho shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the fact that his skin still buzzed from the almost-touch of Sieun’s shoulder against his.
He hated this.
He loved this.
Every glance, every word, every silence. Yeon Sieun filled it all.
And Suho wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending that wasn’t the case.
~
Classes dragged on, but Suho, as always, barely heard a word. Catching up on sleep or watching the back of Sieun’s head was way more important. Suho chose to do the latter today.
His mind was too loud with the sound of Sieun’s voice replaying over and over in his head: ‘stay at my house.’
When the final bell rang, the classroom emptied in a rush. Suho lingered, packing slowly, hoping the chaos outside would settle. He wasn’t surprised to look up and see Sieun waiting patiently in the doorway.
“You’re walking home right?” Sieun asked.
Suho nodded. “Didn’t bring my bike today. But you already knew that.” He grinned up at him.
Sieun didn’t say anything, just shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. He always noticed stuff like this. Suho wondered if Sieun watched him more than he let on.
They walked side by side through the fading light, the air heavy with humidity, carrying the faint promise of cooler nights ahead. The streets were crowded but it might as well have been empty since the only person Suho would have eyes for was Sieun.
Every step, every sound of Sieun’s converses on the pavement, pressed into Suho’s heart.
“Hey,” Sieun spoke up. “You looked dead all day. What’s going on with you?”
Suho shoved his hands in his pockets again, a nervous habit. He forced a laugh but it sounded too pitchy to his ears. “What do you mean? This is my natural state.”
Sieun shot him a sharp sideways look. “Liar.”
Suho chose to look away, pretending to focus on the street vendors entertaining customers that came their way.
They stopped at the corner where they usually split off. Suho hesitated, not wanting the walk to end.
Sieun noticed. Of course he did. “What? You suddenly forgot your way home?”
Suho smirked, playing along. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to walk me all the way. Carry my bag too, if you’re feeling generous.”
It came out lighter than he felt. Beneath the joke, his chest ached.
Sieun’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze lingered a second longer than usual. Then he jerked his head toward Suho’s street. “Go before you collapse on the sidewalk. Get some rest.”
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
Suho stood there, watching his back retreat into the crowd, every nerve in his body screaming to call out ‘Don’t go. Stay’.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to do with his emotions.
~
When Suho finally arrived at his house and slipped his shoes off by the door, the faint smell of barley tea drifted from the kitchen. He could hear the soft shuffle of slippers on linoleum.
“Suho-yah?” His Halmeoni’s voice floated out, warm but watchful. She peeked around the doorway. “You’re home.”
“Yeah.” He flashed a grin. “Came straight back, promise. No fighting today.”
The Gilsu incident had shook her up. She checked for bruises everyday after that and would always call to see where he was. But her fears had slowly but surely diminished and she was back to being normal, calm Halmeoni again. Still, it had been nice having a little extra attention from her.
Her eyes narrowed at his words, the way they always did when he joked like that, but instead of scolding she sighed and walked up to him, reaching out to pat his cheek. “Eat before you take a nap. You’re too thin.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Suho said, saluting. “But may I change out of my school uniform, my liege?” He stated, dramatically.
“Aish, you silly boy.” Halmeoni chuckled and raised her hand jokingly, threatening to hit him.
Suho ducked into his room, giggling.
The door clicked shut behind him, and he collapsed onto his bed. Bag to the floor, phone in hand.
The screen lit up almost instantly.
Sieun
| Did you make it home?
Suho’s chest tightened. They were simple words, but they hit harder than they should.
He typed back quickly.
Suho
| nope passed out on the street and got kidnapped theyre gonna sell my organs 😞 RIP
The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Sieun
| Idiot.
Suho grinned at the words. He could hear Sieun’s voice, flat and clipped, like he was standing here in his bedroom.
Suho typed again, hesitated then deleted. What he wanted to say was I can’t stop thinking about you.
Instead he wrote:
Suho
| dont miss me too much
A long pause came. His stomach twisted.
Then the reply popped up:
Sieun
| In your dreams.
Suho chuckled as he stared at his phone screen, shaking his head.
A knock sounded on his door. “What’s so funny in there?” his grandma asked, her voice narrowing into a suspicious tone.
“Nothing, Halmeoni!” He called back, still smiling like an idiot.
He’d talked her ear off about Sieun enough already. She didn’t need to know how bad it had gotten.
He set the phone down on the nightstand, staring up at the ceiling. Three minutes was his record for not thinking about Sieun. Tonight, he knew he wouldn’t last three seconds.