Archive of Our Own

when we were seventeen and fourteen

Johnny loves his little brother, despite how annoying he is. Or maybe because of how annoying he is. Yup, Mark is endearing to the core. Things that would put other people on Johnny’s shit list, lock Mark further inside his heart.

The same can’t be said for this kid Mark just brought home from Korean language school. He has an overly loud laugh and he’s chewing his gum without closing his mouth.

“What’s your name again?” Johnny asks, from where he’s reclined in his bean bag chair. He’s guarding his Playstation controller, unwilling to give it up to this intruder.

“Chenle,” the kid says. He’s seated on Johnny’s bedroom floor, waiting for Mark to come back with drinks and snacks. If he’s picking up on Johnny’s hostility, he doesn’t seem fazed by it.

“You’re not Korean,” Johnny points out, like it’s an issue.

“Yeah. I was supposed to be enrolled in Mandarin language school, but I was kinda slow filling out the sign-up sheets. They ran out of spots.” Chenle grins, like that’s funny. He has a big crooked smile. One of his front teeth is chipped.

“And your parents don’t care that you’re spending your Saturday mornings learning the wrong language...?”

Mark kicks Johnny’s door open, in exactly the way Johnny dislikes, because it makes all his CDs rattle in their rickety little CD tower. Not that he’s actually vocalised that it bothers him. He’d rather see his collection meet an untimely demise than see Mark’s enthusiasm tempered.

“Honestly, my Mandarin is fine. My parents just don’t want me sleeping in on weekends. They don’t want me wasting time in general. They’re trying to get me to sign up for bible study on Sundays.”

“Dude, you totally should!” Mark says excitedly. He settles down next to Chenle, placing down a tray featuring a packet of cookies, three glasses, and a big bottle of orange soda. The off-brand stuff; their parents rarely sprang for branded anything. “If you pick my church, we could attend together.”

“I dunno. Not really feeling the whole God thing, to tell you the truth,” Chenle says, sitting back with stretched legs, letting his socked feet knock together. Johnny privately agrees, but still feels offended on his little brother’s behalf.

Mark doesn’t seem all that bothered, though. “That’s okay. You could still learn some interesting stuff, even if you don’t believe. Right, hyung?” He turns his face towards Johnny, bright with the anticipation of being agreed with.

Johnny smiles at Mark. “Right.”

--

when we were twenty and seventeen

Johnny knows before enrolling that his brother won’t be able to attend his college, even though they’d planned it that way as kids. But as they’d matured and developed different academic strengths, it had become clear that they’d most likely end up at different schools. Their juvenile dreams of renting a place off campus together would have to stay just that, a dream. And they mutually decide it’s fine, because the quality of their education should come first.

But then Mark does end up finding a program that suits his interests at Johnny’s college, and gets in through early enrolment.

“Isn’t it so exciting?” Mark’s voice comes through the phone, a little breathless.

“Yeah, it is,” Johnny says, grinning widely. “One of my roommates is moving out this year, you can have her room. It’s perfect.”

“Oh, actually... I was thinking of staying in the dorms.”

Johnny makes a face. “The dorms? Why.” He starts listing all the cons. “The furniture is terrible, shared showers, you gotta follow like five hundred rules. No kitchen, no alcohol, no privacy.”

“I know all that. But they give early admission their own floor, and– Chenle got in too, so if I moved in with you, he’d be there all by himself.”

Chenle. Johnny can barely hold back a groan of frustration. “You still hang out with that kid?”

“Johnny!” Mark says with a laugh, “we’re best friends.”

“I thought Donghyuck was your best friend.”

“He prefers to be called Haechan now.”

“Right, my bad. I forgot.”

“And I can have more than one best friend, can’t I?”

“Apparently.”

“Hyung,” Mark whines, “be nice. Chenle is a cool guy.”

Chenle is the very opposite of a cool guy. He’s loud, he’s overeager. But Johnny doesn’t say those things. Chenle isn’t his friend, so it’s fine. And he understands why Mark wants to keep Chenle close. Haechan is off to New York, and Mark performs better when he has his friends nearby. Thrives when he’s loved on. Johnny could tell him that he’ll make more friends, that he’ll be loved no matter where he goes. That his current fears are just nerves about having to live in a new place.

But he gets it. It had been him, two years ago. “And if we could also score Chenle a place to live?”

“You mean with us?” Mark asks, voice brightening.

Johnny had meant nearby. Multiple houses on his street are being rented out to students. There’s even a frat house. “I don’t think two rooms are opening up in my house...”

“What if you moved in with Chenle and me? I’ve been looking at smaller places around campus. Since it’s the end of the year, a ton have become available. Chenle and I can’t afford one of those apartments by ourselves, but if you joined in, it could work.”

Of course. His little brother had always been proactive, an achiever. Of course he’s already gone through apartment listings.

“Uhh...” Johnny says, to stall for time. He’s on a yearly contract, so technically, he could. But he likes his house, his roommates — Lucas, Kun, Taeil, they’re good guys. The vibes in this house are good. Ten is moving out this year to go finish her degree at an ivy league, and he’s really gonna miss her. He doesn’t want to lose all his roommates at once. And most importantly: he doesn’t want to live with Chenle.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Mark says, chipper. But he clearly expects that Johnny will give in. With good reason; Johnny always gives in when it comes to Mark.

--

when we were twenty-two and nineteen

The temporary solution of Mark and Chenle sharing a room until another roommate leaves Johnny’s house ends up being the permanent solution. When Taeil moves out, they just get one more roommate — Jungwoo.

Mark argues that the rooms are big enough to comfortably fit two singles, and so it’s fine. (To Johnny’s dismay, Mark and Chenle spend most of their time glued together on just the one bed anyways. It’s maddening, how they never get sick of lying shoulder to shoulder, doing their coursework and getting high.)

Living with Chenle is worse than Johnny had feared. He has no concept of personal space, is messy, and brings over heaps of friends at all hours of the day. He also strikes up a very intense friendship with Kun, to the point where Johnny’s casual hangs with Kun all but evaporate.

And with Lucas and Jungwoo gravitating towards Mark, two years in, Johnny is left the odd man out.

“It sucks,” Johnny whines to Ten, during one of their Skype calls, “he makes me feel like a loser in my own home.” She laughs at him, but her eyes are gentle. She’s wearing heavy eyeliner. It suits her.

“You’re not a loser, baby.”

“I never even wanted him here, and now I have to live in a house with a living room that smells like his feet. He leaves his socks everywhere.”

“What did he say when you told him to pick up his socks?”

Johnny pouts. He knows he’s about to be lectured. “I haven’t said anything.”

“Well, you should,” Ten points out, “people aren’t mind readers, John.”

“He’s Mark’s best friend.” He doesn’t want to make Mark feel like his best friend isn’t welcome, even if that’s how Johnny secretly feels.

“That’s not all he is, not anymore. He’s also your roommate. You’re allowed to form your own relationship with him.”

Johnny frowns. Ten clicks her tongue at him.

“I have to go, baby. We’re not all getting our degrees at a party college, I have more work to do.”

“You went to this college,” Johnny says, laughing.

“Allegedly.”

“Also, dude, I can see the top of your dress — that’s your little black dress. I know what you look like when you’re about to have a dick appointment, I’ve sat through dozens.”

Ten giggles, caught. “Alright, fine, you got me. He’s almost here, so I have to go! Bye, sweetie.” She throws him a kiss. He throws one back, still smiling when he hangs up. If only she’d never moved out. Even when she’d kept him up all night banging some dude’s brains out, she’d still been a fantastic roommate. She had kept scented candles everywhere, and decorative pillows, and any time she cooked she’d leave him some in the fridge.

He can hear the stumbling noises that indicate Mark and Chenle are home, and groans as he throws himself on his bed. The reason he’d always been privy to Ten’s hook-ups wasn’t necessarily because she’d been indiscreet — the walls in this house are just very thin. She used to have the room adjoining his, and now that’s Chenle and Mark’s room. Which means Johnny can hear all their conversations. Not word for word, but the cadence of them, the endless laughter. He turns onto his side and puts his earbuds in, pressing play. His Discman immediately starts skipping, and he groans again, getting up and turning the lights on to check the disc for scratches.

There’s a soft knock on his door. Soft enough that he could have ignored it, pretended he was asleep, if he hadn’t just turned his lights on. He sighs and opens the door.

It’s Chenle, leaning against the wooden doorframe. Once, he would’ve stood there beaming, smiling his stupid chubby-cheeked smile. But his face is not round like that anymore, nowadays, the dip in his cheeks betraying maturation. He looks at Johnny, expression impassive. “Hey, I was wondering– we’re about to get high. Do you wanna join us?”

Mark’s head also appears, just his head, squished in between Chenle’s side and the doorjamb. He wiggles his eyebrows at Johnny. “We scored some amazing weed. You’re gonna love it.”

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. Weed makes me drowsy for like days after, and I have an upcoming photography project that I need to give my all. I really need the A.”

“Hyuuung,” Mark whines cutely, pushing Chenle further to the side so he can step halfway into the room, grabbing one of Johnny’s hands. “You always say no! What about, like, our college experience?”

“I think you’re already having it,” Johnny says with a soft smile, pulling his hand free.

“But I want to spend time with you.”

“Not tonight, okay?” He sticks his thumb over his shoulder. “I really gotta get back to it. Have fun getting high, don’t eat all of Jungwoo’s snacks.”

“I’m also here!” Jungwoo cheerfully calls from Chenle and Mark’s room, “permission to destroy all the snacks has been given.”

“It’s a party,” Johnny says, still smiling, and crosses his arms.

“Alright, have fun or whatever,” Chenle says, and goes back to his room. Johnny bristles. God, that guy is annoying.

Mark stays standing in Johnny’s door opening, pouting. “Why do you never make time for me anymore?”

Johnny reaches out and ruffles Mark’s hair. “Don’t pout, you’re too old for pouting. Go play with your friends.”

Mark isn’t easily deterred. “You’re also my friend. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m your friend. First friend you ever made.”

“Okay then, come to my hang. Please?” Mark is doing the thing with his eyes, the thing where it feels like every nearby light source is being reflected in them.

“Maybe next time,” Johnny says, crossing his arms again. A defensive stance. Mark gives him a look that shows it’s not okay. That he’s hurt. But before Johnny can say anything else, he’s slinking back into his room, the door closing behind him soundlessly.

It’s not too late. If Johnny just goes over right now, they can laugh off his bad mood and still have a fun evening together. Instead, he closes his bedroom door and puts another CD in his Discman. It plays one song, and then his batteries die.

--

The next morning, he’s woken up by Mark throwing open his curtains and squirming into bed with him, prying Johnny’s hands away from his face.

“Good morning~”

“Go away,” Johnny mutters, squinting at Mark. His little brother reeks of weed, and his eye whites are still a little red. “Did you guys smoke all night?”

“Not all night. But Jungwoo got real philosophical and he was telling us this story about the reason for the birth of the universe, it was amazing. We couldn’t go to sleep until he finished the story. But I did sleep a little bit.”

“You need a shower before you go to class,” Johnny says, closing his eyes again.

“I don’t have classes today. And neither do you.”

“Yes, I do. Medieval Philosophy.”

“No, Kun saw a notice on your classroom’s door. He just sent Chenle a text, so I came to tell you.”

Johnny groans. Why couldn’t Kun just have texted him instead? Did everything in his life have to involve Chenle, somehow? He relaxes into his mattress, and Mark gets cosy on top of him, resting his head on Johnny’s chest.

Both of them fall back asleep for a couple of hours. He wakes up when Mark stirs and sits up, yawning loudly. “Dude, I gotta take a leak.”

“Me too,” Johnny says, his voice scratchy. He feels kind of gross and dehydrated. The sun is beating down on them. “Shit, what time is it?”

“Dunno.”

Both of them stumble to the bathroom, Johnny making a valiant attempt to shove Mark down the stairs so he can take a piss first. In the end, they piss in the toilet bowl together, the way they used to do when they were six and nine, shoulder to shoulder. Back when they still took baths together, and when Johnny had been the one Mark came to cuddle at night. He misses that brotherly bond.

Mark is still yawning up a storm. “Ugh, I’m starving.”

“You probably ate your weight in cookies last night.”

Mark grins at him. “I totally did. Guess they’ve been absorbed already.”

“Don’t say absorbed. Makes you sound like an alien plant, or something.”

“Hyung, I’m hungry,” Mark whines.

Johnny holds back an endeared smile. “I could whip up some pancakes.”

“Yesss, I love your pancakes.” Mark shakes, once, twice, and tucks himself away. “I’ll go tell Woo and Chenle.”

Johnny tucks himself away too, and walks over to the sink to wash his hands.

“What?” Mark asks, frowning.

“Huh?” Johnny says, looking at Mark in the mirror.

“Why did you make that face when I said I’d go get them?”

“I didn’t make a face,” Johnny deflects, bending over to dry his hands on their bathroom towel. He might as well not have — it’s crispy. He probably got his hands dirtier, just touching that thing. Ten had these amazing towels — fluffy, the palest shade of purple — but she’d taken them all with her.

“Okay, we really need to have this conversation.”

Johnny frowns at him. “What conversation.”

“Just go start the pancakes, I wanna take a quick shower. I won’t bring anyone, promise.”

He’s fried up a stack when Mark joins him in the kitchen, leaning against their countertop.

“Hyung, you know you can tell me if something’s bothering you. You’re my brother. I care about the things you care about,” Mark says. He’s speaking Korean. He rarely does that, doesn’t want to shut out the others — Jungwoo and Taeil aren’t fluent.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Johnny deflects again, in Korean this time.

“Yeah, you do. Just spit it out.”

Johnny sighs lengthily, and puts his spatula down. “I think he’s annoying, alright? Do I have to like him just because you like him?”

It’s not necessary to clarify who he means. Mark understands, that much is clear from his frown. “Of course not. But has he done something? Why are you so hostile towards him? If he’s done something bad towards you, you can tell me. You know I’ll pick your side.”

Johnny didn’t know that, actually. Which, in retrospect, is kind of dumb. Of course Mark has his back. They’re family. Tension he didn’t know he was holding flows out of him. “No, he hasn’t done anything.”

“You don’t need to hold back. I know he’s been my friend for a long time, but– is it something he’s said?”

Johnny thinks about it. Maybe, yes. Kind of. Although there’s been no specific instance he could point to, Chenle has always seemed rude to him. But now it seems childish to admit to that. To harbour dislike for someone for that long, just because they were rude a couple of times. Chenle is little more than a kid. Johnny could have been the bigger man. He’s starting to see how he must’ve sounded to Ten, during all those Skype calls.

Mark tilts his head. “I know he can be kind of crass. Is that it?”

Johnny sighs. “Yeah. That’s it. It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid. But why not just tell him that? I’m sure he’ll make an effort for you. He likes you, you know.”

“I don’t have to feel the same way.”

“Right. But I’m saying that could change. Right?” Mark looks so hopeful. If everyone had a heart as big as Mark’s, conflict wouldn’t exist.

Johnny shrugs, and pours more batter in the pan. “He’s also kind of messy.”

Mark laughs. “That bothers you? Hyung, you’re messy.”

Johnny blinks at him. No, he’s not.

“You take good care of your things. But you leave behind a full sink, like, twice a day. I have to put your coat away every time I come home. There’s empty batteries all over the house.”

“The kitchen always looks good though?”

“Yeah, because I do your dishes.”

“I mean, even before you moved in.”

Mark sighs at him. Like Johnny is the one who’s hard to live with. Shit, is he? But Mark drops the subject, and helps him set up the table. They eat their pancakes in companionable silence, and then Johnny locks himself in his room, disconnecting his Nokia brick from its charger. He desperately needs a new one, this one loses its charge when he looks at it wrong. There’s a text message from Kun, from this morning, informing him his class has been cancelled. Oh.

He thanks Kun, and then texts Ten:

Johnny 02:08PM
am i messy

BFFF 02:11PM
in class can this w8?

Johnny 02:12PM
10 its a yes or no question

BFFF 02:12PM
yes

Johnny 02:14PM
what do u mean yes!

BFFF 02:19PM
:D

Johnny 02:23PM
TEN
skype me when u get back

--

“This can’t come as a surprise to you,” Ten comments. She isn’t looking at her webcam, too busy painting her nails.

“The house always looked nice even before Mark moved in, though.”

“Yeah, because you’ve always lived with neat people. Well, I’m not that neat. But I did clean up a lot of your shit.” She holds out her hand, studying her nail polish. “One time, I woke up on top of one of your batteries– it was like, stuck to my back. I don’t even know how that thing got in my room. My doctor laughed at me when I called him about metal poisoning.”

Johnny wants to sink into the floorboards. He’s been complaining about Chenle’s mess to a person who spent years looking after him. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, remorseful.

Ten raises an eyebrow at him. “I prefer you when you’re complaining.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I would have changed.”

“Because I was hoping you’d magically notice how much I did for you and think, wow, this girl is amazing, and proceed to fuck my brains out. Duh,” Ten says, and then gently blows air on her nails. Like none of what she just said is that big of a deal.

Johnny leans closer to his screen, squinting. “Don’t play with my emotions right now. I’m very fragile.”

“I’m being serious! But then I finally figured out you would never like me back and like, I calmed down. Anyways, all of that was years ago. It was during our first year living together.”

Johnny is frowning up a storm. “Wait, you really are being serious.”

She flaps her hands, trying to get them to dry faster. “Yes! Why else did you think I tried so hard, with the dinners and the decorations and shit. I was flat broke. I don’t even like that stuff.” She sighs wistfully. “I always try hard when there’s dick involved. Just can’t help myself.”

“Man, I don’t know, I thought you just liked having a nice living space.” Even while he’s saying it, he knows it doesn’t add up. Ten’s bedroom had usually looked like a tornado just passed through.

Ten shrugs. “Doesn’t matter anymore, now.”

“I still miss your pillows,” Johnny pouts. If she didn’t even like them, she could have left them behind.

“You know you can just buy pillows, right? You don’t need to wait for someone else to buy them. Be the master of your own destiny.”

Johnny is frowning. Thinking. “You could have just told me you liked me. Did that never cross your mind?”

She finally deigns to look at him. She’s smiling, in that cat-like way of hers, chin tilted down. Like she knows the secrets of the universe. “And what would you have said, baby? Would you have accepted my offer?”

Johnny’s jaw squeezes shut. The answer is crystal clear in his mind, immediate. No. No, he wouldn’t have. But, why not? Ten is an extremely pretty girl. And he’s been single throughout college. Why turn down a date with her.

“Exactly,” Ten says gently, leaning her chin in her hand.

“But... why?” Johnny asks, a little dumbfounded.

Ten laughs at him. “Am I supposed to know why you didn’t want to date me?” She sighs, and is silent for a while, like she’s pondering it. “Well... you just don’t date. That did mend my feelings a little bit. It’s not that I specifically wasn’t good enough for you. Apparently, no one is.”

Johnny is staring at her grainy face, at a loss for words. Of course girls are good enough for him? He loves girls. Girls are cute and fun and awesome.

Ten perks up, her voice going into a higher register. “Okay, I have to go now! My nails are dry and I promised my hot neighbour I’d drop by.”

“Did you just do your nails so your hand would look extra cute while you’re jerking him off.”

“Johnny!” Ten laughs, like that’s a preposterous reason, “yes, absolutely!”

Johnny smirks. “Alright. Bye.”

“Bye, baby!”

--

Johnny stops leaving dirty dishes in the sink. He hangs up his coat when he gets home.

And on a particularly sunny Saturday, he makes the trek to the nearest mall to buy some pillows. It takes him an hour to finalise his decision on which ones to get, because none of them look the same as the ones Ten had, which had been intricately patterned, with gold thread and little elephants. He tries to get Ten’s input on his meagre options, but his phone died on him an hour after leaving home, so he’s left to his own devices. He ends up getting an orange, a purple and a green pillow, figuring those colours look cheerful together and would match a little bit of everything in their interior.

Chenle is sitting in their living room when he gets home, sunk deep in their recliner, playing on his Playstation 2. He bought it last year and had made it available to all of them, but since Mark wasn’t really a gamer and Johnny didn’t want to play with Chenle’s Playstation, it’d worked out that most of the time, it’s just been Chenle playing titles by himself.

God, Johnny really has been acting like an asshole.

“Hey man,” he says, while putting his plastic bags down, “weren’t you supposed to be out this morning?” Mark had said Chenle had an appointment at the health clinic.

Chenle shrugs, and continues playing.

Johnny starts pulling the pillows from their bags, fluffing them and trying them out in different spots on the couch. They look dumb anywhere he puts them. Like whoever put them there, was trying too hard. How had Ten arranged hers? He can’t recall.

“You look like a queer or something, playing with those pillows,” Chenle mutters.

Johnny freezes, one pillow mid-air. He turns around slowly, towering over Chenle. “What did you just call me?”

Chenle tilts his head back, looking up at him with a blank expression. “Jeez, don’t take it the wrong way. Just a joke.” There’s something weird about his speech. Kind of muffled, kind of lispy.

“Do you see me laughing?”

Chenle shrugs again, and goes back to playing his game. It’s actually kind of impressive, how unaffected he remains. Johnny knows he’s intimidating when he’s annoyed — and he’s definitely annoyed.

“Give me one of those controllers.” He’s gonna best Chenle at a racer, the way they used to do when they were high schoolers.

“This is a one-player,” Chenle says, at an abnormally low volume. He raises his eyebrows. “What, you can’t beat my ass, so you wanna resort to beating my ass in a game?”

“Load up a two-player, you little bitch. I’m getting us sodas.”

“Just get us beers,” Chenle calls after him.

“It’s 11AM. No.”

Chenle groans, tipping his head back. “Fuck, you’re so prissy.”

Johnny flops down on the couch, tossing a can of Fanta into Chenle’s outstretched hand. One of his pillows tumbles to the floor as he gets comfortable, and he now recalls the part that was always annoying about having decorative pillows. He leaves it lying there, feeling weirdly self-conscious in front of Chenle. “What crawled up your ass today?” he asks, cracking his can open.

“Nothing,” Chenle mumbles.

“You sound weird.”

“Shut up? Just play the game.”

Even though it’s an original console title, one Johnny has played before at that, he hadn’t realised just how rusty he’s gotten. Chenle shoots past him on his motorcycle on every level, like it’s child’s play, while Johnny keeps struggling to make his turns without skidding out.

“Tragic,” Chenle comments, one of his cheeks pushed up by his smirk, as he finishes first yet again.

Johnny throws the controller next to him, and lies back with his hands on his face. “Could you ease up on me a little bit?”

“Or what? You’ll cry?”

Johnny lowers his hands, staring up at the ceiling. He’s starting to get kind of angry. “Dude, seriously. Stop.”

Chenle is looking at him, still smirking. Something is glinting in between his teeth.

“What’s in your mouth?” Johnny asks, frowning.

Chenle grimaces exaggeratedly, revealing a full set of braces.

Johnny chuckles, surprised. “They’re finally gonna try fixing that fucked up mouth of yours?” He’s being mean, but actually, it looks kind of cute. It reminds him of the kid Chenle used to be.

“I guess,” Chenle says, leaning his head back against the couch. His lisp is even more noticeable now.“I qualified for a special student assistance program, and the clinic referred me to a dentist.”

“Should you even be having soda?”

Chenle rolls his head to the side, giving him an unimpressed look. “What are you, my mom.”

Johnny huffs. “Dude, seriously, could you take your foot off the gas pedal for a bit? I’m trying to be nice here.”

Chenle is still staring at him. “So, what? You’re nice once, and I’m supposed to fall at your feet?”

Johnny feels caught. Chenle hadn’t really seem bothered either way, all these years. Like it didn’t matter what Johnny did. And Johnny had interpreted that as Chenle being oblivious.

“Yeah, thought so,” Chenle says with a tone of disgust, getting up and tossing the controller into the recliner.

“Hey, wait,” Johnny says, following Chenle into the hallway. He tries to take hold of his shoulder, but Chenle shrugs him off. Johnny grabs him again, harder this time, and pins him against the wall. “I said, wait.”

“Get off me, man,” Chenle says, visibly annoyed now, trying to push Johnny off of him. “I’m not your brother, you can’t just–”

“Why are you bringing him into this? This isn’t about him, don’t drag him into it,” Johnny says sharply.

Chenle’s breathing is rapid, and his face is twisted with emotion. Angry. It’s weird to see that expression on a face he’s known as either smiley or impassive all his life. “Dude, all of this is about him. You can’t stand that I’m friends with him. You want him all to yourself.”

“That’s not even close to being true. I like Mark’s friends.”

“Maybe. But you don’t like it when he picks them over you.”

Johnny takes a step back, confused. He just wanted to– actually, he doesn’t know what he wanted to do. He’d promised Mark he’d make an effort with Chenle.

Chenle is grinning at him, not a kind grin. Cheeks flushed, mouth full of metal. He takes a step closer. “Not just a queer, are you? Also a brother-lover.”

Johnny punches Chenle in the face, causing his head to snap back. He takes a stumbling step back, knocking into the wall. It shocks Chenle, but if possible, it shocks Johnny even more. Even though he’s always been a tall and broad guy, it’s not in his nature to be physically violent. And Chenle is not exactly short, having shot up considerably in the last year. They could probably measure up to each other, in a fight. Is he about to get his ass beat?

Chenle bends forward with a pained groan, cupping his face. “Fuck, ow. My teeth were already sore from getting the braces, you couldn’t have kept it in for a couple more days?” He spits on the floor, and there’s blood mixed into his spit.

“Chenle, I’m... I’m...”

“What the hell?” Jungwoo’s sleepy voice cuts in. He’s standing at the top of the stairs, wearing just his underwear and looking half-baked. “Hyung, did you just punch him?”

Chenle spits on the floor again, and then starts going up the stairs. He pushes past Jungwoo, who is staring at him with wide eyes.

Jungwoo’s eyes trail back to Johnny, and the puddle of blood by his feet. “Seriously, what the hell? Did he deserve it, at least?”

Johnny shrugs, and goes to fetch a kitchen towel to clean up the mess.

--

He doesn’t sleep well, that night. He’s having a fraught dream, of Chenle leaning in close and whispering something. And although Johnny can’t understand him, he knows the intent behind what Chenle is saying anyways.

Queer.

When he wakes up with a start, it’s to a semi-dark room. Someone is sitting on the side of his bed.

“Mark?” he asks groggily, reaching out to flick on his bedside lamp.

It’s Chenle. Johnny gasps, because it’s so far from what he expected. Even though they’ve known each other for years, Chenle has never once inserted himself into Johnny’s personal space. Not without the buffer of Mark’s presence.

Chenle leans in closer. Johnny notices how stoned he looks. One side of his face is bruised, the eye looking tender and swollen.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny says instinctively, reaching out, and then thinking better of it.

“’S okay,” Chenle lisps, and then crawls on top of him. Johnny grows very still, staring up at Chenle.

“Are we gonna do this, or what?” Chenle asks him.

“Do what?” Johnny asks. He feels like he’s falling even though he’s lying perfectly still, his whole body on high alert.

Chenle gives him a pitying look, and then leans down and kisses him, tilting his head to the side and pushing his tongue deep into Johnny’s mouth. Johnny moans, and grabs hold of Chenle’s shoulders. But he doesn’t push him away. It’s weird to kiss someone with braces. If he’d thought about it ahead of time, he would’ve guessed it would kind of melt away into the background, but that’s not what it’s like at all. It’s a pronounced sensory experience, the edges of the metal and plastic digging into his lips and tongue. Chenle is groaning, and Johnny can’t tell if it’s out of pleasure or pain.

He pushes at Chenle’s chest, until their kiss breaks. His breathing is fast and uneven, as is Chenle’s. “Aren’t your teeth too sore? Your face?”

“Not a wimp like you,” Chenle tells him, and then grabs hold of his face and kisses him again. Johnny is becoming so dizzy; he can’t get enough air. He kisses people at parties sometimes — girls — but those times had been nothing like this. They didn’t leave him feeling like his stomach has been turned into a yo-yo.

It’s minutes too late when he finally gathers enough presence of mind to push Chenle off of him, hard enough to shove him to the floor. The damage has been done, though. He was kissing him back, there’s no denying that. At least Chenle is high, but Johnny doesn’t even have that excuse. “What’s wrong with you,” Johnny says, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. The faint taste of copper sits in his mouth.

Chenle laughs, that boisterous laugh he used to have as a kid. The braces glint in the limited light. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

It makes Johnny feel so angry. There’s nothing to know. “Get out of my room,” he hisses.

Mercifully, Chenle listens to him. He throws Johnny one more knowing smirk over his shoulder, and then he’s gone, closing Johnny’s door behind him soundlessly.

--

He manages to slink around the house and avoid confrontation until Monday night. He’s walking back from the university’s library, where’s he’s been working (hiding), when a smaller figure falls into step with him. He’d recognise those scuffed converses anywhere.

“So you hit my friend,” Mark says to him, eyes fixed ahead.

“I’m sorry about that,” Johnny says. He wants to pull Mark into his side, pull him off-balance, make him laugh. Like they always do.

Brother-lover.

It’s not just Chenle’s — wrong! — accusation that’s creating this distance between them. There’s a hard set to Mark’s mouth.

“Hyung, you have to tell me what he did. There has to be more to this than you’ve been telling me. I know you. This isn’t you.”

Johnny feels shame. Isn’t it? He’s been cruel to Chenle from the start. For no good reason, really. Because Chenle was a little too annoying. Because he was getting Mark’s attention. Yes, Johnny has always been jealous. But not for the reason Chenle seems to think. Mark is his little brother and his best friend, that’s all there is to it. Johnny loves him more than anyone else in the world. He feels happiest when Mark’s eyes are on him. Maybe it’s a type of love someone like Chenle, whose siblings are way older than him, could never understand.

Regardless: he’s been selfish. He’s pushed Chenle to hate him, gave him no other choice. The whole kiss thing, had clearly been nothing more than an extension of that. A challenge. Revenge.

The saddest part is that they could’ve been childhood friends, have the same thing he had with Mark. All it would have taken would’ve been a little bit of kindness on Johnny’s end.

Johnny sighs. “All of it is my fault. Really. You have to believe that.”

Mark makes a face at him. “How could it all be your fault? I know Chenle is a good guy, I know this isn’t like him, but–”

“If it’s not like either of us, that means you’re wrong about one of us.”

“Okay so, what? You two have devolved into fist fights now? I don’t want to live like that.”

“It won’t happen again,” Johnny promises him. “And if you’re worried about tension, I can move out. There’s not much left of the school year, it’s my final year here, I’m sure I can find a place to crash until the year is out. And, free bonus, you two will finally be able to have your own rooms.”

Mark gives him a look. “I like sharing a room with someone. It reminds me of when we used to share a bedroom, before you moved out to go be an angsty dick up in the attic.”

Johnny lets out a sad little laugh, and pulls Mark into his side after all. Mark lets himself be pulled in easily, tucking himself against Johnny’s side, their gait adjusting seamlessly. A lifetime of practice. “It barely mattered that I was up there. You were also up there, like, every day.”

“Yeah, but, like. At night, dude. Every time when I was falling asleep, I’d be looking over at where your bed used to be, and it felt all pinchy in my chest. I guess I got really used to having you there. And then when you left for college, it was even worse.”

Johnny hadn’t actually known Mark was this attached to him. He’s been hiding it well. “You never told me that.”

“It made me feel dumb, man. You’re like, the cooler older brother. I’m the nerd in our family. I wanted you to think I was cool too, not like, I don’t know. Me.”

“I like you the way you are. You’re not a nerd, where are you even getting that.”

Mark grins up at him. He’s so cute. Even when he’d been fresh from the hospital, Johnny had felt it deep within his core. That they belonged together. A simple message emanating from somewhere inside of him: This one’s mine.

But he’s not, of course. Mark is his own person, and he’s allowed to go out into the world and make new connections and live his life. He’s chosen to come spend more of his time with Johnny, at Johnny’s college, and Johnny’s been wasting it. All because he couldn’t get over his own envy. He’s an idiot.

“Do you want to get stoned in your room tonight?”

Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Damn, are you suggesting a hang right now?”

“Yeah. Why not. It’s been a while.”

“I have an early class tomorrow, I don’t think it’s a good idea. How about Thursday night? I’ll spread the word, get some girls to come.”

Johnny smiles at him. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

--

He’s not sure if it’s because he’s old now, or if his tolerance levels have gone down because he rarely smokes anymore, but they’re halfway through passing the first blunt around and Johnny is feeling blazed. He’s giggly and slow, getting the jokes a couple of seconds behind the rest of the group. There’s a girl leaned into his side — Jenny? Jen? — who is laughing along every time Johnny does. She has a smile that makes her eyes disappear.

“Your laugh is so cute,” she says in a flirty tone, and Johnny pretends he didn’t hear it. Eventually, she drifts away to Mark’s side instead, who is much more receptive.

An empty bottle is produced, and room made in the centre of their group. The bottle gets spun, spun, spun, and people kiss. Johnny is watching it all with a dazed smile, and then it’s his turn to kiss someone. It’s the girl from before. She crawls forward eagerly, and Johnny kisses her wetly, messily, because that’s what will garner the biggest cheers from the group. Johnny’s spin lands on Jungwoo, who kisses him on the cheek, to the sound of jeers and laughs. Chenle kisses a girl whose name Johnny doesn’t know, Kun and Lucas share another cheek kiss, and then both of them kiss a girl called Nana.

When everyone has had a chance to kiss the person they actually wanted to kiss, more boy-girl couples start to form. Jen is now sitting in Mark’s lap, murmuring things directly into his ear. He has a hand on her waist to keep her close, and his eyes are sparkly with happiness. He learns the girl Chenle kissed is called Yangli, and watches as she takes hold of Kun’s arm, staying close to him. She has a cute, sharp smile.

Nana is making eyes at him now. Johnny gets up, knees jelly, another breathless giggle falling from his lips. He’s not avoiding Nana, he’s not, he just has to take a piss. He has to support himself against the walls to make it out of Jungwoo’s bedroom, stumbling down the hall towards the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and flops down on the toilet, hunched forward, still aimlessly giggling. Even the splattering sound of his piss hitting the porcelain is kind of funny. He has Theories of Reality and Knowledge tomorrow morning, but he might just skip it. There’s no way he’ll be presentable by then. Damn, what was in that blunt?

The door opens and closes again. Two feet come into view. Black doc martens, part of Chenle’s usual college uniform. Black band shirt, black jeans. Black black black.

“Hey,” Johnny says, not lifting his head, “almost done, just a sec.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Chenle tells him. He sounds upset.

Johnny sits back, his dumb laughter still flowing out of him. Chenle still carries the evidence of Johnny’s punch. The swelling has gone down, but he has an ugly blue-black bruise underneath his eye. “Hey man, I’m sorry about everything that’s happened... I’ve... I’ve been acting like an asshole. Truce?”

“You’re sorry...? I don’t think that’s true.”

Johnny pouts. He understands why Chenle would be mistrustful. Johnny hasn’t shown genuine remorse. But he means it: he wants to make things right between them. As right as he can get them, anyways. “I’ll make it up to you, all of it. Just give me a while.”

Chenle gets down on his knees in front of him, which is shocking. Johnny tries to lean back, but there’s nowhere for him to go.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice growing small and confused.

Chenle reaches in between his legs, shamelessly palming Johnny’s soft dick. “Tell me to leave, and I’ll leave.”

Johnny gapes at him. Chenle is touching his dick. He doesn’t have the vocabulary to even form an opinion, just grips down on the sink with one hand and tries to come to grips with the fact that there’s a person between his legs, touching him. A male person. Somewhere in a distant region in his brain, a little voice is screaming what am I supposed to do.

Chenle grins at him, showing off his braces. Last time, he had little elastics connecting the two rows, but those aren’t anywhere to be seen this time. His hands is working over Johnny’s dick still, gently squeezing and rubbing it. The droplets of pee that were still clinging to his cockhead are getting spread around, he can feel it. But what he can feel the most, is the absolute firework of neural responses that Chenle is setting off in his brain.

“Where’s... where’s your rubber bands?” Johnny asks, voice still unnaturally high.

“I take them off when I’m eating something.”

Right, there’d been brownies at the beginning of the party. Johnny ate two.

“Can I?” Chenle asks, and leans closer. Johnny has become hard under Chenle’s ministrations. He’s so high, touch is registering differently. Coming in a fraction slower, but way more intensely.

Johnny nods, and watches as Chenle takes his cock into his mouth. He takes him very deep, pulling off with a slow suck. Johnny gasps and claps his hand over his mouth, muting the noise that’s erupting from his throat.

“Good?” Chenle asks, and Johnny nods, brow knitted, mouth still covered. There’s that grin again. He remembers how it had felt kissing it, the ridges of Chenle’s braces pressing into his gums, into his lips. He wants to feel it again. “You taste disgusting,” Chenle tells him, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip.

Johnny feels a bit offended. No one had asked Chenle to do this right when he was done taking a piss.

“I kinda like it,” Chenle tacks on, looking embarrassed as soon as he’s said it, like he didn’t mean for it to come out that way. He takes Johnny’s dick into his mouth again, and keeps him there, his tongue doing something magical against the underside. Johnny leans back and tries to keep his sounds in, but it’s hard. It feels so good, better than it’s ever felt when he’s just using his hand. There’s a pleasured tightening in his abdomen, his entire body at attention, tumbling towards orgasm.

“Chenle,” he mutters, reaching out to touch his face. Chenle closes his eyes and leans into the touch, and oh, it feels better in an entirely new way now. Chenle looks so cute like this, pushing into Johnny’s hand, his eyelashes framed by the backdrop of his skin, small huffs of air escaping his nose. “Pull off, I’m gonna–” Johnny warns him.

Chenle pulls off and looks up at him, his hand continuing to move across Johnny’s length. “Are you going to come for me?” he whispers, and Johnny can’t suppress a clipped whine, nodding urgently. His hips are bucking on every downstroke.

There’s that grin again, cheeky and pretty, Chenle’s tongue peeking out from in between his teeth. Like an invitation. This close up, Johnny can see Chenle’s front tooth has been fixed, no longer chipped like it once was. But that smile is making him feel like the very first time he saw it. And he recognises that feeling now.

The first spurt of come completely overshoots Chenle’s face, landing somewhere behind him, but the second, third and fourth land all over his face. Johnny is hypnotised by the sight, jaw slack. It lands across his nose bridge and forehead, over one cheek, and into his mouth, on his waiting tongue. Chenle rolls his lips into his mouth, tasting him with a thoughtful expression, like that’s not going to haunt Johnny. Johnny leans over the sink and grabs the washcloth he uses to wash his face every night, wetting it and offering it up to Chenle. “It’s clean, don’t worry.”

“I know. It’s mine.”

Johnny stares at him. “No... it’s mine. Have you been using my washcloth?”

Chenle gives him a mischievous look, while pulling the cloth over his face. “Did I get it all?”

There’s still a little bit on his forehead. Johnny takes the washcloth from him and gently removes it.

Footsteps thunder down the hallway, and Johnny knees Chenle in the face when he tries to get up to close his zipper, his movements rendered uncoordinated by both the high and the orgasm.

“Ow, motherfucker, fuck, that hurts,” Chenle curses, voice muffled because he has his face in his hands. He curls into a little ball on the floor, breathing hard.

The footsteps move right past the bathroom. Johnny stands breathless for a few moments longer, and then tucks himself away and crouches over Chenle, pulling his hands away from his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Did I break your nose?”

Chenle looks dizzy and like he’s in a lot of pain. There’s no blood, which is a hopeful sign.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, we should ice it.”

“Okay,” Chenle mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. Two fat tears streak down his face, and Johnny uses his thumbs to brush them away.

He’s faring a lot better by the time they reach the kitchen. Johnny wraps some ice cubes in a towel and lets Chenle handle it, but continues hovering over him, a worried etch to his mouth.

“I’m fine,” Chenle informs him, “but fuck, I literally saw stars. Remind me to never do you a favour again.”

“A favour?” Johnny splutters.

“There you are.” Mark walks into the kitchen, his smile falling from his face when he sees Chenle icing his nose. His glance nervously shoots towards Johnny, and then back towards Chenle.

“We didn’t fight this time,” Chenle promises, “it was an accident.”

Mark exhales in relief. “Dude, you had me so worried for a second there.” He pauses, scanning their faces again. Johnny tries his level best not to look guilty. Is guilt even the correct emotion? “... are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just really, really high,” Johnny says. It’s the truth. Even now, his skin feels like it’s only loosely connected to the rest of him, everything humming pleasantly.

Mark laughs, looking put at ease. “Okay, yeah. Makes sense. I saw you going to town on the pot brownies.”

Oh. Johnny had not known those were pot brownies.

“I was grabbing us some more drinks. Will you guys help carry it all?”

--

For several nights after, Johnny has vivid wet dreams of Chenle whispering queer into his ear, of Chenle getting down on his knees and sucking him off. Tilting his head back to show the way he’s pushing Johnny’s come around his mouth with his tongue, pushing it up until it’s almost spilling over, filling the gaps in between his braces.

The dreams feel so real, every time he wakes up, for a split second he thinks Chenle is in his bed again. But he never is.

--

Chenle’s laying strewn across their couch, head rested on one of Johnny’s decorative pillows. Another pillow lies tucked over his crotch. Johnny grabs it and brings it to safety, placing it on their coffee table.

“What?” Chenle grumbles, not looking away from his racing game, “I wasn’t doing anything to it.”

“I don’t want your crotch miasma on my new pillows,” Johnny says, dropping himself on top of one of Chenle’s legs. Chenle kicks at him while freeing the trapped leg. Once freed, he rests it in between Johnny’s shoulders and the backrest of the couch. Johnny squirms, trying to get Chenle’s foot from in between his shoulder blades.

“Are you actively trying to screw up my game?” Chenle asks him, landing another kick to Johnny’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t, but now I kind of am, I guess,” Johnny replies, grabbing hold of Chenle’s ankle and tugging as hard as he can. Chenle yells in frustration when his player wipes out. He lets his head drop back, groaning.

“That was unnecessary. I was about to win that lap.”

“Sorry,” Johnny says, but doesn’t sound sorry.

Chenle looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Is this what it’s like, being your friend?”

Johnny nods, feeling a little self-conscious. He likes teasing and bothering people, but maybe they’re not there yet, maybe he’s taking too many liberties. Chenle isn’t his friend, not yet at least. But they have become something. Something they weren’t before.

Chenle closes his eyes, letting out another deep sigh. “I like it.”

Something warm unfurls in Johnny’s stomach. He takes a deep breath, building up courage. “Hey, I was thinking of heading to the cafeteria for a late lunch. Wanna tag along?”

Chenle purses his lips, thinking it over. “I could eat.”

He feels a strange ache in his arm on their walk to campus. He wants to reach out and grab Chenle’s hand; his gaze continually dragged towards where Chenle has it tucked inside his hoodie’s pocket. There’s no one around, just them, walking in the dying afternoon light. There’s no casual reason for him to hold a guy’s hand, though. It’s the gayest thing he’s ever had the impulse to do (without any input from Chenle). He balls his fist inside one of the many pockets on his oversized jeans, playing with a stray ballpoint pen he finds in there.

“What?” Chenle asks, eyeing him.

“What are we?” Johnny blurts.

Chenle shrugs. He doesn’t seem nearly as stressed about it as Johnny feels. “Dating, I guess? We’ve had sex and you’re taking me for food. Feels like a date.”

Johnny feels himself flush, and stares hard at the pavement.

“Unless that’s not what you want?” Chenle asks. And for the first time, there’s a tinge of nerves to his voice. “I don’t know, man. I’ve just been trusting my instincts. You’re really hard to read.”

“How long have you known that I liked you... like that.”

Chenle shrugs again, pushes his tongue into his cheek as he’s thinking. “Dunno. Since always? You were an ass to me, but then you’d stare at my mouth. Like you wanted to do something about it. Like you’re doing right now.”

“I really want to kiss you again,” Johnny admits, voice low and pained.

Chenle grins at him, and it’s so pretty it hurts something inside of Johnny. “You can. I want it.”

Johnny grabs Chenle’s cheeks and kisses him clumsily. One of the brackets clicks against his teeth, hard enough to hurt, but Chenle doesn’t seem bothered. He throws his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and kisses him back, sliding his tongue into Johnny’s mouth. He tastes like Cheetos and soda, and it shouldn’t be good, but it is. Johnny likes it so much.

“Chenle,” he whispers against his lips, and Chenle smiles wide, like he can’t fight it down. His eyes all but disappear in the smile, and Johnny touches his dimpled cheeks with his thumbs, indenting them further. The black eye is all but gone. “Fuck. You’re so cute.”

“Even with this stupid contraption in my mouth?”

“I like it,” Johnny whispers, and kisses him again.

They step apart when they hear laughter drifting towards them, walking side by side as they come up to a large group of frat bros dragging a keg. It’s the guys that live on their street. Johnny knows all their faces, and their taste in music, occasionally treated to tunes drifting towards their house until sunrise. But other than that, he hasn’t really interacted with them much. He’s always thought frats are a little bit corny.

“Hey, it’s the guys! The guys from the house,” one of the frat bros says, pointing at Chenle and Johnny. Johnny nods his head at them in acknowledgement.

The phrase the guys from the house! is repeated several times. It’s clearly what they’re known as in the frat.

The one that appears to be the leader of the pack steps forward. “Guys, you’re totally welcome to join our rager this Saturday. Bring the whole house. Everyone welcome. There’s gonna be lots of booze.”

Johnny points at Chenle. “This one’s nineteen.”

“Doesn’t matter, we won’t tell if you won’t,” leader-of-the-pack assures him, “just make sure you’re out before the cops come.”

Chenle nods. “Sounds good. Do you guys like brownies?”

A knowing look bounces through the group. “Do you mean brownies? Or brownies.”

“Brownies,” Chenle replies. Johnny can’t tell if he’s putting any inflection in his voice.

“Fuck yeah, we love brownies! Wow, awesome! It’s been really hard to find good brownies around here.”

“I agree,” Chenle replies, “you want them baked fresh, you know? There’s almost no fresh brownies around here.”

“Exactly,” the leader says enthusiastically, “baked fresh! Exactly.”

“Alright, see you Saturday,” Chenle says amicably, and then loops arms with Johnny and walks him away from the group.

Johnny gives him a look, and Chenle laughs. “What? Everyone loves brownies.”

--

Johnny 00:24AM
10 10 10 r u up

BFFF 00:25AM
yes :-| this guy is SNORING

Johnny 00:25AM
smother w/ pillow
or elbow him

BFFF 00:27AM
considering it. keep texting, the noise is waking him up

Johnny 00:28AM
u could just ask him to leave

BFFF 00:30AM
no way? that wld be rude
ooh hes asking who im texting
told him its just some guy

Johnny 00:34AM
dont make him mad. how well do u know this guy
hello? still there?

BFFF 00:37AM
he got offended and left ROFL
so, whats up? my guardian angel

Johnny 00:39AM
i kissed a guy

BFFF 00:39AM
what guy?

Johnny 00:42AM
kinda worried i might be gay now

BFFF 00:43AM
hmm
u might be

Johnny 00:44AM
TEN

BFFF 00:44AM
what!! its not a bad thing
is it?

Johnny 00:46AM
kinda, yeah

BFFF 00:47AM
well, ive kissed a girl before and im not gay. so maybe ur not gay

Johnny 00:48AM
what girl?

BFFF 00:49AM
completely besides the point

Johnny 00:50AM
is it that girl that works in the cafeteria on thursdays

BFFF 00:50AM
WHO TOLD U THAT

Johnny 00:52AM
no one. educated guess 8)
thanks 4 confirming

BFFF 00:54AM
ugh. im gonna sleep now dont text me anymore

Johnny 00:54AM
xoxo

BFFF 00:55AM
xoxoxoxoxo

Chenle tucks his chin over Johnny’s shoulder. Mark has a girl over and Johnny offered to put Chenle up for the night, to everyone’s surprise. (It’s just that, Johnny has fallen asleep on the couch before whenever he’s been too drunk to make the trek up the stairs, and it’s kinda drafty in their living room. And he has a twin. So it’s fine.)

Chenle had fallen asleep mid make-out session, but now he’s staring at the small pixelated screen of Johnny’s phone. “Who is BFFF?” he asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

“It’s just Ten. She used to have your room.”

“Why is she saved like that in your phone?”

“She did it as a joke. I don’t even remember what the context was, we were both high off our asses. It means best fake friends forever.”

“I’m your best friend now,” Chenle announces, eyes closed. He doesn’t sound fully awake, voice tapering off into a murmur.

Johnny huffs out a laugh. “Is that right?” Chenle doesn’t respond, and a few moments later, his breathing grows deeper and even. Johnny tosses his phone onto his carpet and wraps an arm around Chenle, getting cosy, tucking his chin on top of Chenle’s head. “Night,” he says.

--

Johnny 09:17AM
on second thought
i think i like a guy

BFFF 01:08PM
well then go get him tiger

The hours in between texting Ten and receiving her reply had left him in anxious limbo, and he lets out a couple of tears in sheer relief when he reads her reply.

Johnny 01:10PM
u rly think its ok?

BFFF 01:12PM
yes :-) really

Johnny 01:13PM
ok. cool. tnx <3

BFFF 01:15PM
xoxoxoxoxo

Johnny 01:20PM
xoxoxo

--

To Johnny’s astonishment, their whole household is excited about attending the rager. They arrive as a group and dance together for a while, close enough to the speakers that it’s impossible to hold a conversation, until they’re sweaty and drunk.

Then Mark gets caught up in a very intense game of beer pong along with Jen, who appears to have transitioned into being his full-fledged girlfriend, because they won’t stop holding hands. Johnny and Kun watch them for a while, and then Johnny breaks off, aimlessly wandering through the house.

Chenle had been dancing with their group, but now he can’t see him anywhere. Lucas is still dancing in the centre of the living room crowd, his tan muscled arms lifted above his head, smile wide and brilliant. Jungwoo is posted up in the kitchen, passionately explaining something to a bored-looking senior who Johnny recognises from one of his classes.

Johnny continues dancing from room to room, nursing his cup of jungle juice, trying to look casual. Classmates come up to him and make forgettable small talk. He can’t keep his eyes from scanning the crowd as they talk. It’s not that Chenle isn’t allowed to wander off, but, where is he? Johnny starts exploring more of the house, now pulling free when people try to stop him for a chat.

He’s not anywhere downstairs. He’s not on the patio outside. He’s not in either of the bathrooms, nor in any of the accessible bedrooms. Maybe he’s in one of the locked bedrooms? But who would he be in there with. It’s obvious that Mark and Jen have been hitting it off, but he wasn’t under the impression any of Jen’s friends had struck Chenle’s fancy. But maybe he’s just not in the loop. Did dating mean Chenle could still see other people?

When he comes across Jungwoo again, he’s sitting on the couch by himself. Johnny sits down next him, letting out a frustrated exhale.

“Hey,” Jungwoo greets him, and leans into him. “I think I had a little too much to drink... feel kind of woozy.”

Johnny wraps an arm around him. “Did you have a brownie?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s probably it.”

“Why?” Jungwoo asks, tilting his face up so he can look at Johnny.

“They’re pot brownies.”

Jungwoo blinks. “No? Chenle and I made them together. They’re just brownies.”

“Oh,” Johnny says. Chenle had carried them into the house like they were a rare treasure, and several frat bros had been acting really stupid after eating some.

“Did Chenle say he put something in them?” Jungwoo asks.

“He didn’t, actually? I think everyone just wanted to believe it.”

Jungwoo laughs, getting comfortable against Johnny’s side again. “Sounds like Chenle.”

Johnny clears his throat. Pauses. Clears his throat again. “Speaking of Chenle,” he says, trying to sound casual, “did you see where he went?”

“Yeah, he went upstairs with Kun... hyung, I really don’t feel good.”

Timing is critical with drunk Jungwoo. The amount of time between him saying he feels off and throwing up everywhere has proven to be as short as thirty seconds. Johnny hauls him outside, avoiding the long line to the bathroom, and stops near a bush.

Jungwoo is taking in deep lungfuls of fresh air. “You didn’t need to take me outside, I think I’m okay, actually,” he mutters, but there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Well, you don’t look so good. Let’s just stay outside for a couple of minutes longer. Just until you’re feeling better. Then we can–”

Jungwoo passionately hurls into the bush before Johnny finishes his sentence. Johnny keeps hold of his elbow, and lets him go at it, rubbing between his shoulder blades every time Jungwoo comes up for air. “That’s it. Get it all out.”

“Hyung,” Jungwoo says pitifully, and then throws up again. By the time he’s done, his legs are shaking.

“I think we should get you to bed, I don’t think you’ll be able to walk this one off. What do you think?” Johnny asks.

“Okay,” Jungwoo says weakly, clumsily cleaning his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. He looks queasy still. Johnny props him up with a shoulder, and half-walks, half-carries him back to their place. It’s not far. Jungwoo is babbling, little sentences underneath his breath. “I’m stupid... so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. That jungle juice was much stronger than it usually is. Fair mistake.”

“Didn’t have the juice... just wine. Brought a bottle of wine. We shared.”

“Either way, it’s okay,” Johnny tells him.

“I thought he liked me,” Jungwoo sniffs.

“Everyone likes you.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He keeps Jungwoo upright by allowing him to drape himself over Johnny’s back, while he’s unlocking their front door. Jungwoo is crying by the time they make it inside, soft reedy sobs. Johnny plants him on the couch, and goes to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and their designated barf bucket.

“Here,” he says, pushing the glass of water into Jungwoo’s hands. Jungwoo drinks the whole thing, and then sniffles, using that same dirtied sleeve from before to catch his snot.

“Maybe you should take a quick shower before you pass out,” Johnny suggests.

Jungwoo looks up at him with tear-stained lashes, his nose red. The overall effect is a little pitiful, but cute. Jungwoo is a cute person. “Okay,” Jungwoo mutters, “but will you stay?”

“Uh. Stay how? I can stand outside the bathroom door.”

“No, will you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Johnny makes a face at him. “I’m not getting in the shower with you.”

“No, no, I mean like... hang out while I shower. We can keep the curtain closed.”

“Uh.” It’s not that Johnny has never been in a bathing-type situation with a man before. The image of Chenle pops into his mind, very vividly, accompanied by a shock of arousal. He pushes it back down. No, that’s not what he meant. There’d been the uncomfortable sauna trips his dad dragged Mark and him on, any time they visited Korea. And he used to share the tub with Mark, when they were kids. This was kind of like that. Right? “Okay, alright. I’ll make sure you don’t slip in the shower, or something.”

“Thank you,” Jungwoo says quietly.

The actual event is oddly comfortable. Johnny is seated on the toilet seat, and listening to Jungwoo talk about anything and everything, grunting back monosyllabic replies. Jungwoo is nothing more than a vague shape behind the curtain, and visibility drops even more when the small rooms starts fogging up.

“Woo, can you open up the window for a bit? It’s getting kinda hard to breathe in here.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell the landlord — this window has been stuck for a while now.”

“No, there’s a trick to it, you have to fiddle with it.”

“Fiddle?” The water is shut off, and he hears Jungwoo yanking on the handle, straining.

“Lift the window in its railing while pulling on the– don’t pull too hard, kinda wiggle it.”

“It’s not working.”

Johnny leans over, pushing the curtain to the side. “You just need to–”

He maybe didn’t think that through properly. He’s not very drunk, but he’s not sober either. That’s probably why he’s now eye level with Jungwoo’s crotch. His bare crotch.

“Uh,” Jungwoo says, and then giggles.

Johnny leans back again, staring up at him with owlish eyes.

“I was done anyways, let’s just get out of here,” Jungwoo says, deigning to save Johnny from the worst of his embarrassment. Johnny hands him a towel, still not saying anything. Jungwoo dries off, and looks in much better shape than he did before the shower. There’s a blush on his cheeks and his usual spark is restored. Johnny walks him back to his room, unearthing a clean hoodie from the amalgamous pile Jungwoo calls a closet and handing it to him. He looks up at the ceiling while Jungwoo drops his towel to slip the hoodie on, and a fresh pair of underwear. Then Jungwoo is in front of him again, one of his slender hands cupping Johnny’s jaw.

“Thank you,” Jungwoo tells him quietly, sincerely. And then leans in and presses a kiss right on the corner of Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny frowns at him.

“No, I know, you don’t like guys,” Jungwoo assures him, patting Johnny’s arm.

“That’s not it,” Johnny tries to explain. He already has someone he likes. And he went upstairs with Kun, his mind supplies.

“That’s not it?” Jungwoo repeats, looking baffled. “Wait, you like guys?”

“Uh,” Johnny says. He hadn’t meant to reveal this much. He’s not ready to have this conversation. Not at all.

Jungwoo is staring at him like he’s never seen him before. “Wow?”

“It’s not like that,” Johnny tells him.

“No, of course not,” Jungwoo says, but there’s a look of understanding in his eyes.

“I should get back to the party now. Make sure the rest gets home safely.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Jungwoo says, and then gives him a hug. It goes on a little bit too long, but, it’s nice. Johnny ruffles Jungwoo’s still-damp hair, and then he’s out the door, jogging back to the frat house.

The party has become twice as wild since he’s left it. There’s a ton more people, so many that he’s struggling to get through the mass of bodies. He finds Kun and Lucas in the kitchen, happy-drunk, playing some kind of game involving wine corks.

“Hey,” Johnny shouts over the noise.

“Hey man,” Lucas yells back, in his lazy drawl.

“Have either of you seen Chenle?”

Lucas shakes his head.

“We were up on the roof together, but then he wanted to go look for you,” Kun tells him, “that was a while ago, though. Like, an hour ago.”

“Oh wait,” Lucas joins in, “I remember now! He came up to me, asking if I’d seen you. I said I saw you take Jungwoo outside.”

Johnny nods in thanks, and pushes his way through the crowd again. He hadn’t seen Chenle back at the house, which meant he had to be at the party still.

Johnny figures going through every room again is his best bet. It takes forever, because of the sheer amount of bodies he has to navigate. The first bedroom he checks leads him to discovering Mark and Jen on a bed, neither of them wearing a substantial amount of clothes.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” he says, backing out of the room with his hand clapped over his eyes. Jen is surprisingly muscled and tan. Must be on the swim team or something. Mark had looked pale underneath her. Well, there’s an image that’s going to haunt him. “I’m really sorry!” he shouts again, while blindly pulling the door shut.

“There’s like, a sock on the door, man,” a random stoner tells him, clearly appalled by Johnny’s lack of decorum.

“It’s fine!” Mark calls back, but he sounds anything but fine.

Johnny does not want to check another bedroom. “I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but, have you seen Chenle anywhere?”

“He’s on the roof,” Jen answers, with a nervous giggle.

Johnny is already on the top floor, though. There are no stairs anywhere. “Okay, sorry, one last thing: how do I get on the roof?”

The bedroom door opens just wide enough for Mark to stick his face through. “Hyung, oh my god!” he hisses in Korean, “go away!”

“Sorry, I just– wait, do you have a condom?” Johnny asks, voice low.

Mark lets out a high-pitched whine. “Christ– yes. Are you trying to ruin this for me?”

“No, I just wanna get on the roof.”

“Opposite bedroom, through the window.” The door promptly gets slammed in his face, and he hears the lock turning. He sighs, walking across the landing and hoping this room is clear. There’s no sock.

Inside he finds small groups of people, sitting and standing, talking and laughing. There’s so much smoke the air has turned into a blueish mist. “Roof?” he asks the nearest girl, while trying not to cough. She points at the open window.

Johnny clambers through, and immediately, he understands the appeal. There’s a strong breeze, and the air is fresh and sweet out here. Barely any of the party’s sounds carry. He can hear the wind rustling through nearby trees.

“Hey,” Chenle calls out. He’s a little ways away, lying back against the slope. The faint red of a roach lights up his face.

Johnny carefully walks along the roof, lowering himself next to Chenle, but remaining seated. The roof goes out far, and from this angle, he can’t see any of the people on the lawn.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Johnny tells him.

“Uhuh,” Chenle says. He sounds... angry?

“Are you upset?”

Chenle shrugs. He tries to hand Johnny the roach, who holds up the flat of his palm. “No, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” Chenle mutters, and takes another drag.

“Dude, you’re clearly annoyed over something. Just spit it out.”

Chenle sighs. He sits up too, killing the last of his smoke against the heel of his boot and flicking it over the edge. His arm brushes against Johnny’s and Johnny can feel how cool Chenle’s skin is, and wonders if he’s cold. He’s wearing a Metallica band shirt and his eternal black jeans. No beanie, no sweater. They’re both silent for a while. Johnny waits, heartbeat high in his throat.

“Are we...,” Chenle starts, and then sighs in annoyance, rubbing his forehead.

“What?” Johnny prompts him, “whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Are we dating? I realised, earlier tonight, that you never confirmed it.”

Johnny looks back at the window. There’s laughter and conversation coming from it, and clouds of smoke. But he doesn’t think anyone can hear them. He sighs, rubbing his cheek nervously. “I think so. Yeah.”

“Okay, then, why were you inside the bathroom with Jungwoo?” Chenle sounds very jealous, and very hurt.

“Oh,” Johnny says heavily. “You heard that?”

“I came looking for you, because I hadn’t ran into you in a while. Lucas said you guys went outside, but you weren’t there. So I thought, maybe Woo has gotten sick? And, it was like, you weren’t in your room. He wasn’t in his. But the shower was going. And then I heard you in there, both of you.” Chenle seems to be crumpling more and more, the more he talks. “I feel so dumb.”

“He got really drunk, and he needed a babysitter. I don’t like Jungwoo like that,” Johnny assures him, finding Chenle’s hand and squeezing it. His fingers are ice cold to the touch. “You’re cold. How long have you been up here?” He shrugs out of his hoodie, and holds it out in offer. Chenle slips it on immediately, pulling the hood over his head.

“I dunno, I was just– looking out over the neighbourhood. Thinking.” Now that he’s warming up again, he starts shivering.

“I like you. I only like you,” Johnny tells him, and knocks their shoulders together.

“Yeah?” Chenle asks, in a small voice. All his usual bravado is gone. “I know Jungwoo likes you. And he’s like, the hottest gay guy in our school. Like, what’s so special about me, compared to him. You know?”

Johnny is at a loss for words. Jungwoo is gay? Since when? Who else is gay? Is this a thing people just casually are, in college?

“Meanwhile, I’m kinda plain-looking. And not very smart. And not very funny. Like, why wouldn’t you prefer someone like Jungwoo.” For the first time, Chenle sounds every bit his age.

“None of those things are true. And I don’t want Jungwoo. It doesn’t matter if he likes me, because I like you.”

Chenle looks up at him. The side of his face lights up blue, reflecting the flashing lights of the cop car that’s soundlessly creeping down their street.

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny says, looking down at it.

Chenle takes in a deep breath, and then cups his hands around his mouth, yelling at a surprisingly loud volume: “Cops!”

There’s immediate responding screams inside the bedroom, several heads poking out of the window to check the street. “Oh my god, he’s right! The cops are here! Cops, you guys! Cops! Move, move!” A cacophony of voices and stumbling noises follow the discovery. “Flush it! Go flush it!”

Johnny tries to get up, but Chenle grabs his hand, voice low. “No, we should stay up here. Other side of the roof, they won’t spot us there.”

They help each other over the ridge, and lie down flat just below it, staring up at the sky. The roof is much shorter on this side, no windows giving out on it. The music cuts out, and Johnny can hear the noises of people dispersing down below. He’s quietly hoping Mark will make it out okay, when suddenly, his little brother’s face appears above his head, followed immediately by Jen’s face.

“Is this like a known hideout?” Johnny whispers at them.

“Yeah,” Jen whispers back, grinning. They cross the ridge and lie down next to them, Mark pressed up against Johnny.

“It’s Jen’s bedroom, the window you climbed through. We’ve hung out on the roof before,” Mark explains.

“Wait, why do you live in a frat house?” Johnny asks.

“Because I’m part of the frat,” Jen whispers.

“Yeah, she’s one of the brothers.”

Johnny had not known that was even a possibility. He’s spent four years at this college, and he’s only just learning this now?

“It’s not common,” Jen says, taking pity on Johnny’s stunned silence. “But it’s not against the rules either. I’ve been hoping to inspire other girls to join. Our frat is really cool actually, they always have my back.”

“I’m thinking of joining next year,” Mark says.

“You are?” Johnny is surprised. He’s never really seen Mark as a frat kinda guy.

“Yeah, since you’ll be gone, I figured, that way, it’ll kinda be like I still have family on campus.”

“Shhhh!” Chenle shushes them. He’s rolled onto his stomach, and is peeking over the ridge. “Cop.”

They all stop whispering, listening intently. There’s two voices inside the bedroom on the other side, sounding serious and authoritative. Chenle ducks his head down very suddenly, eyes round and panicked as he looks at Johnny.

They’re coming, he mouths at Johnny. The very top wisps of his hair are lit up by a flashlight. The footsteps are coming closer and closer, and it’s inevitable that they’ll be found. Johnny feels frozen by fear, and then, very suddenly, they’re all being blinded by a flashlight.

“Go, go, go!” Jen yells, springing up to her feet. “Follow me!”

“Stop!” the cop that’s climbed onto the roof yells, but no one pays her any mind. Everyone scrambles to their feet and goes after Jen, who is nimbly running across the short side of the roof, leaning to offset the slope. She crests the ridge on the other side of the window, and then keeps running closer towards the front edge of the house.

“Where are we going?” Johnny yells, a little panicked. There’s no way out, and the cop is in pursuit. She’s not as fast as them, but they can’t keep outrunning her on a roof.

“Stop!” the cop yells again, as Chenle yells: “Don’t stop!”

When she’s reached the end of the roof, Jen drops onto her hip and slides all the way down, pushing herself off with her hand right before she clears the eave. It’s extremely obvious she’s done this manoeuvre before. The roof hangs low on this side, and she drops down to the grass below with a soft thump. It’s not an impossible jump, but it’s still scary.

“Quickly!” she yells up at them.

Johnny copies her, along with Mark and Chenle, convinced he’s about to break an ankle and then be arrested for resisting police orders, or something. But all three of them clear the jump, although not as gracefully as Jen. Then she starts sprinting towards the flashing blue lights, towards the street.

“Cops?!” Johnny yells, to remind her.

“Gotta run on concrete, we’ll be faster. Go go go!” Jen yells cheerfully. She doesn’t sound the least bit scared, like she does this all the time. She grabs hold of Mark’s hand, and they sprint out ahead of Johnny and Chenle, Mark letting out a high-pitched laugh of excitement.

Johnny grabs Chenle’s hand, and looks at him. Chenle’s expression is stuck somewhere between fear and pure joy, his mouth wide open. There’s bouncing flashlights behind them, and Johnny focuses on the pale flick of Jen’s sneakers, running as fast as his long legs will let him, dragging Chenle along. They run until the flashlights aren’t following them anymore, and then run for a while longer. The only thing Johnny can hear is the sound of wind rushing in his ears, his own breathing, and the heavy clump of Chenle’s boots against the road.

Jen’s sneakers veer off, into a narrower set of streets. The group slows down to a light jog, and then starts walking, like they’re just out for an evening stroll. Jen is the least out of breath out of all of them.

“I think we’ve lost them,” she says, surreptitiously looking over her shoulder.

“Do you do this often?” Mark asks her.

“Not that often.”

“She’s lying,” Chenle supplies helpfully.

Jen laughs, throwing her head back. “Lele, shut up! He’s not gonna wanna rush if you keep this up.”

“I might still,” Mark says, smiling brilliantly at her. Johnny feels something inside of him squeeze; he can’t recall ever seeing that specific expression on Mark’s face before. Like there’s something aglow inside of him.

He’s still holding Chenle’s hand, he realises. When he tries to let go, Chenle’s grip strengthens. It feels good, comfortable. He doesn’t actually want to let go, was just worried that maybe Chenle wouldn’t want to be seen holding his hand. But maybe it’s okay. This street is deserted, and it’s the middle of the night.

“I think it’s safe to walk home now,” Johnny says.

Mark nods. “Yeah, I think so too. Even if they stop us to ask questions, they can’t prove we were at that party.”

“I hope nothing was left behind this time. I keep telling people, it’s fine if you smoke in my room, but clean up your shit when the cops come.”

Chenle tucks a sweaty strand of hair behind his ear. “This is why I advocate for baked goods. Much harder to figure out.”

Jen turns to grin at him. “Shut up, your brownies reek of weed.”

Chenle reaches out and shoves her, and she giggles, running ahead a little bit so he can’t reach her anymore.

They’re friends. He didn’t know Jen and Chenle were friends. Chenle has a whole life outside of him, Johnny realises. He technically already knew that, knows Chenle has a large group of acquaintances based on the amount of people he brings over. But knowing it and seeing it feel different. All this time, he’s thought of Chenle as his little brother’s dorky language school friend. But that kid is long gone. There’s a deep dimple in Chenle’s cheek every time he laughs, the same one that’s always been there, but his jawline and cheekbones are more defined. His shoulders have become broad, chest solid. The only thing that offsets it is the braces. But they don’t look out of place. They complement his youth.

“What?” Chenle asks, and Johnny realises he was staring.

“Nothing.”

“Okayy,” Chenle says, and wraps an arm around Johnny’s waist. Having him pressed this close, while they’re both upright, again has Johnny realising just how tall Chenle’s gotten. He’s grown almost as tall as Johnny.

There’s no sight of the cops, when they reach their street. The frat house has become dark and quiet. They walk past it. Once they arrive home, Mark and Jen quietly break off, and Chenle sticks by Johnny’s side. No words are exchanged, no one questions it. For the first time, Johnny wonders if this is something he could actually have.

Chenle kisses him when the door to Johnny’s bedroom door closes, and pulls him towards the bed. Johnny goes willingly. He helps pull his hoodie up, which now smells like both of them, and then the band shirt. He mouths at Chenle’s shoulder, kisses his chest.

“Don’t,” Chenle tells him quietly, “that turns me on.”

“You don’t want to be turned on?”

“It’s annoying. Being hard and not getting relief.”

“Okay, then let me give you some relief,” Johnny tells him, and slides his hand down the front of Chenle’s jeans. Chenle lets out a stuttered gasp.

“You want to..?” He sounds like he can’t wrap his mind around that fact.

“I feel like you haven’t been listening. I like you,” Johnny murmurs into the side of Chenle’s neck.

“You could have anyone, though.”

It’s clear words alone won’t convince. He starts undoing Chenle’s jeans, rubbing him through the stiff fabric all the while, getting him hard. Chenle’s breathing starts coming in more laboured, his hips subtly bucking into Johnny’s palm.

“Johnny,” he mutters, and the doubt has bled from his tone, his voice quiet but eager. “Fuck, yes. Touch me.”

Johnny gets down on his knees. This is new territory, and he feels daunted. He shucks Chenle’s jeans to mid-thigh, along with his underwear, just to busy his hands. Then he pauses, looking up at Chenle.

“You don’t have to,” Chenle says, and reaches out, carding his fingers through Johnny’s hair. The gesture brings a lot of comfort. He feels safe and kept, here under Chenle’s gaze, close enough to smell his musk.

“I don’t really know how,” Johnny admits.

“I figured. Just take it in your hand. Start there.”

It’s dumb — Johnny shouldn’t be surprised by how warm Chenle feels in his hand. He also has a dick, he knows what they’re like. Maybe it’s because he’s never really thought about doing this to someone else. He starts moving his hand, still looking up. Chenle hisses, makes a small noise of discomfort.

“Spit on it,” Chenle tells him, “I like it wet.”

Johnny feels embarrassed, but does as told, pulls it up from his throat and spits. He misses, which only amplifies his embarrassment. Thinks fuck it and takes Chenle into his mouth instead. It’s not weird, Chenle has done the same to him, so it’s not weird. And it’s just them. No one needs to know.

Chenle gasps and then whines. He stays still, but it’s obvious it takes effort. “Baby,” he mutters, and pets Johnny’s hair. Johnny feels small, but in a good way.

Johnny tries to emulate what he remembers from being blown by Chenle. He pushes his tongue up against the underside of Chenle’s cock, moving back slightly until he’s tonguing his frenulum. He circles the glans with his lips, licking it with the tip of his tongue. All he can taste, all he can think of, is Chenle. There’s a buzz throughout his body, which has nothing to do with the alcohol he had at the party.

Chenle is unsteady on his legs, breaths coming in shallow and rushed. “Johnny,” he whispers heatedly, playing with Johnny’s hair, and then trying to push him off, “stop, I’m gonna come.”

Johnny stops, looking up at Chenle. “I want you to.”

“Not so quickly, okay? Wanna get my mouth on you first.”

They get naked together, throwing each other shy glances. Chenle lies down first, and Johnny climbs on top of him. With so much bare skin touching, there’s a pull within him, to be even closer to Chenle, closer than they can get through oral. He tamps it down — it’s too much, too soon. He feels daunted. But also, strangely wild. Like they could do anything together, and it would be okay.

“Are you my boyfriend?” he asks Chenle, and then presses a kiss to his lips, chasing down his own words, wanting to squash the space he made them exist in.

“I could be,” Chenle says into the kiss, and then grins so wide he can’t keep kissing. “You really do like me, huh?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

“Can I give my potential boyfriend a blowjob?” Chenle asks, like he’s trying to annoy, but all Johnny feels is a shock of warmth going through his abdomen.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and kisses Chenle again, deeper this time, blushing the whole time. They’re really doing this; undertaking that journey towards belonging to each other, two to a set.

A particularly loud moan is audible through the wall, and Chenle has to muffle a giggle, turning his face into the pillow. “Jen told me she was gonna go for it, but, damn,” he whispers. Then he seems to remember who he’s talking to. “Uh... I mean...”

“It’s fine, but please distract me,” Johnny says urgently. He doesn’t want to think about his little brother right now, absolutely not. He can feel his arousal waning.

“Wait, I have an idea,” Chenle says, rolling away from him. He holds up Johnny’s Discman, lifting his eyebrows by way of a question. Johnny lies down on his side, and allows Chenle to tuck the plastic earbuds into his ears. His Nevermind CD starts up — proof of the nostalgic moods he’s been in lately. He allows himself to be submerged in Cobain’s vocal fry, closing his eyes.

Chenle’s hands are on his body, exploring, not shy at all. He cups Johnny’s pecs, slides his hands down his sides, holds his hips. Then the warmth of his breath over Johnny’s length, his shifting weight. His knees press into the mattress, in between Johnny’s calves. Johnny lifts a leg, further exposing himself, and moans when Chenle first takes him into his mouth. A deep suck, small bursts of pleasure travelling throughout his body. He moans again, and then Chenle’s hand is reaching for one of the earbuds, pulling it free.

“You’re being really loud,” Chenle warns him, “I think it’s because you can’t hear yourself? Leave one bud out.”

Johnny feels ashamed and grateful all at once. It feels good, knowing Chenle is looking out for him. He hopes he wasn’t heard. Probably not —the couple next door has their own things to worry about.

It’s even better with just one earbud. There’s the soothing familiarity of his favourite CD in one ear, and the sounds of Chenle sucking him off in the other. He looks down, tucking a hand behind his head, his other hand rubbing down his own stomach.

“Feels good,” Johnny says to him.

“You taste good,” Chenle mutters. There’s a dazed look of desire on his face, his eyes lidded, his plush lips pressing against Johnny’s cock. He lets his tongue fall out of his mouth, dragging long, slow licks along the underside.

“Take it in your mouth,” Johnny instructs, and dizzyingly, Chenle obeys immediately. He sucks Johnny down, his cheeks hollowing out. It sounds wet and sinful. “Fuck, you’re so good at that,” Johnny whispers.

Chenle pulls off, breathing hard, jaw slack. There’s that beat of recognition again, somewhere deep inside of Johnny. The sweet boy Chenle used to be. Still is. And Johnny gets to have him now. “You’re so pretty... you always were pretty.”

Chenle looks flustered, trying and failing to hide a smile. It’s heady, watching someone as bold as Chenle trip into vulnerability. Johnny presses on: “Those braces do you every favour... you’re so cute.”

“That do it for you? Me looking like a fucking dork?” Chenle gives him a vengeful lick, and Johnny moans out his pleasure, fingers fisting into the sheets.

“Yeah,” Johnny grits out, “reminds me of when you weren’t such a fucking brat.”

Chenle laughs at him. “Even when we first met, I was a fucking brat.”

Johnny groans again, dropping his head back against the sheets. Here, hidden away, with only Chenle present, it feels okay to finally admit it. But he still whispers it. “I wanted to kiss you from the first time I saw you.”

“I know,” Chenle mutters, and kisses his hip bone, “me too.”

Johnny has to know. He lifts his head, so he can look at him. “You’re my boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Chenle says, shy. It makes Johnny’s whole body feel warm, happiness spreading through him. He feels almost too exposed, so he reaches down. “Then keep sucking it,” he tells Chenle, grabbing his dick by the base and gently swinging it to and fro, offering it up.

Chenle laughs, sharp and surprised. “Cocky,” he says, like he just made an incredible joke.

“Less jokes, more sucking. Put that pretty mouth to work,” Johnny repeats, and Chenle laughs again, kissing Johnny’s stomach several times.

“Patience? I’ll get to it.” Before he has a chance to follow through, he’s being pushed into the mattress. Johnny can’t stand the distance anymore, doesn’t want to play around anymore. He wants to be as close as possible to Chenle, wants to feel him get off too, like before. He rubs their erections together, while cupping the back of Chenle’s head and kissing him deeply. Chenle moans and grabs hold of Johnny’s arm, kicking his hips up, rutting into Johnny’s solid weight.

“Come for me,” Johnny tells him, their lips still pressed together, “come on, I wanna hear what you sound like.”

“Hmmh, can’t, not enough stimulation,” Chenle whines.

Johnny fists the back of Chenle’s hair and tugs his head back. He spits in his other hand and grabs hold of both their erections, squeezing gently as he starts tugging. The slick, rhythmic sound of his hand is the biggest turn on of all, right after watching the way Chenle’s face is becoming unfocused with pleasure. Johnny licks into his mouth, grinning. There’s something so powerful about this.

Chenle makes a guttural, punched out sound, and then he’s coming, his warm release shooting against Johnny’s stomach. Johnny drops him against the mattress and straddles him, moving his own hand over his dick in a desperate bid to join. Chenle is staring up at him, expression filled with pure worship. He grabs hold of Johnny’s hips, and drags him forward, until Johnny’s sitting down on his softening cock.

“Want you to ride me like this, in like, an hour,” Chenle tells him, voice lazy.

Johnny gasps, a deep throb of pleasure shooting through him at the thought, and then again when he starts coming across Chenle’s chest and stomach. Chenle moans, dragging his hands through Johnny’s release.

“Feels nice,” he mutters. His eyes are lidded; he looks like he’s seconds away from sleep.

Johnny wipes him down with a couple of jerky motions, using his blanket, and then curls around Chenle, cheek to chest, thigh slung over his legs. They’re the wrong way around in his bed, heads by the foot end, but he can’t bring himself to care. Chenle folds an arm around him and kisses the top of his head.

“I like you so much,” he says quietly. Johnny grins in response, hiding it away against Chenle’s chest.

“Me too.”

--

Mark is peering at him with sleepy, suspicious eyes, over his huge bowl of cereal, when Johnny comes into the kitchen the next morning. Johnny sits down opposite him after grabbing a bowl, and pretends Mark isn’t staring at him, instead dragging the box of cereal and the milk towards him.

“So...” Mark says. He’s speaking Korean.

Johnny pours the second half of the box of cereal into the bowl, and pretends Mark didn’t say anything. He pours in the milk after, getting the bowl nice and full. He can feel it coming, though. Mark is about to say something terribly annoying.

Mark huffs a curl from his eyes. “Guess we both lost our virginities last night.”

Johnny puts his spoon into his cereal, stirring it. His face is impassive, but his heart is beating wildly inside his chest. “Guess so.”

“Cool,” Mark says, and goes back to eating.

Johnny watches him for a second longer, and then starts eating too. He unclenches. “So it’s not like... a problem?”

Mark shakes his head. “Of course not. I was surprised, but... well, maybe not that surprised.”

“What does that mean?”

Mark stares into his bowl of cereal, slowly stirring it. His cereal is getting soggy. “Dunno. I guess I just knew, on some level. Even though I could never have put it into words.”

Johnny exhales slowly. “Mom and dad are gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah,” Mark acknowledges, nodding with a serious expression. He looks up at Johnny, and there’s a fierce love there. “But I’ve got your back.”