Chapter Text
It takes them a few more hours to finally leave Seungsik's apartment after he coaxes Seungwoo off of him. Seungwoo even sweeps the kitchen floor before helping Seungsik slip off the counter. He promises to be more careful with his second cup of coffee. They talk their way through breakfast. They moan their way through the shower, pressed up against cold tile and warm bodies. After making a mess of him, Seungwoo washes Seungsik, who returns the favor.
“Sorry,” Seungsik says sheepishly, giggling as he pumps his sweet scented shower gel into his hand. “I’m sure this isn’t what you typically use.”
“I don’t mind,” Seungwoo shrugs, relaxed as he feels Seungsik’s hands on him, running over his arms and shoulders. “You always smell nice.”
“I don’t know if it suits you,” Seungsik says, scrunching his nose while lathering up the soap on his chest.
“Well,” Seungwoo hums, leaning against the shower wall and grabbing Seungsik’s waist. “It suits you, and you suit me.”
Seungwoo is, unfortunately for Seungsik, very hot when he is driving. Seungsik gets the perfect look at his side profile, soft lips and sharp nose and strong jaw. He keeps a hand on Seungsik the entire time, fingertips massaging into his thigh. Seungsik catches him singing along quietly to a few songs.
In the passenger seat, Seungsik turns his body slightly left. He prefers this view to anything out the window. Seungwoo glances over at him, smiling and squeezing his leg.
"What?" He asks as Seungsik leans the side of his head against the seat, getting comfortable in this position. He pulls his cardigan tighter around himself, fleece warm against his skin, helping him sink into seat. Every inch of the car holds that warm piney scent Seungwoo seems to radiate. It’s also clean, which doesn’t go unnoticed and adds to the overall attractiveness.
"Nothing," he says quietly. He places his hand over Seungwoo's on his knee. "I just like looking at you."
Seungwoo laughs and shakes his head.
"Because I look funny? " He asks, raising a brow at Seungsik.
"You were in your underwear on the floor!" Seungsik argues with a laugh.
"Well next time I've got you in your underwear I'll be sure to point and laugh, too," Seungwoo says, shoving his knee lightly. "See how you like it."
"What makes you think you’ll get me in my underwear again?” Seungsik asks.
“A man can dream,” Seungwoo sings, leaning back against his seat.
He’s focused on the road again, but Seungsik goes pink, something akin to love bubbling through his veins. Every positive reaction Seungsik gets, every touch that they share, it all lifts the weight of worry off his shoulders and out of his chest. He breathes easier with Seungwoo now. He's smiling, and he's laughing because smiling isn't even enough. He is happy. He could do this every day.
Wake up together.
Shower together.
Eat together.
Make love.
He'd break a thousand coffee cups if it means he gets Seungwoo.
Seungsik always finds the sun to be at its harshest in the winter, bright and glaring, cutting through the air but not the cold. But here and now, this early afternoon with snow melting on the sides of the road, it feels warm, relaxing, inviting. It casts light through the windshield, hitting all the highpoints on Seungwoo’s face. Seungsik curls in his seat tighter like a cat sunbathing on a window sill. He grips his hand tighter. Seungwoo keeps his focus on the road, but his pretty lips curve into a smile and he twists his arm up, intertwining his fingers with Seungsik's. They fit perfectly.
Seungsik wants this forever.
The traffic light shines red in front of them. Seungwoo rolls to a stop, taking the moment to lean over and give Seungsik a kiss. He rubs the back of his hand with his thumb. When he pulls away, Seungsik pouts, glancing at the light before leaning towards Seungwoo, who laughs, playfully rolling his eyes and connecting their lips again.
Seungwoo’s studio looks like a second home. That’s what he calls it as he leads Seungsik, still hand-in-hand, down the hall of his building, passing several doors with large black frames until they reach one with Seungwoo’s name plated on the wall. As soon as Seungwoo unlocks the door, Seungsik spots a large black couch along one wall. There is a cot, a mini fridge, and a cart full of snacks all arranged in the back of the room. There’s even a small pot sitting on a hot plate.
“Oh,” Seungsik says, eyes frozen on the set up, barely through the door enough for Seungwoo to close it. “You weren’t kidding.”
“It’s nice to have,” Seungwoo says as he follows Seungsik’s eyes. “I tend to lose track of time here, so.. It’s nice, you know? To rest or eat without leaving.”
“That feels.. mildly unhealthy,” Seungsik is only half-joking. He doesn’t know at all, actually. He loves his new job. He can’t imagine living in his office part time. “I think it’s enabling you to spend even more time here.”
“You’re probably right,” Seungwoo admits immediately, shrugging and leading Seungsik by the hand to the other side of the room.
Seungsik is much more impressed with this, several monitors and machines sitting in front of him, a booth separated by glass on the other side. He doesn’t really understand any of it, could maybe guess what a few of these things do. He’s definitely seen a keyboard before. To his left, however, Seungwoo is already letting go of his hand, sitting down, and opening several programs and files that are completely foreign to him. Seungwoo could be coding a rocketship path for all he knows.
He sits down beside him, the wheels gliding easily across the floor as he moves his seat closer to Seungwoo. Seungwoo’s tongue is poking out slightly between his lips. His brow furrows down as he pouts his lips. Seungsik grins next to him.
Cute.
“Do I get to hear something you’ve made?” Seungsik asks, adjusting in his seat. Seungwoo hums an affirmation, deep brown eyes darting from one screen to another.
“Pick one,” Seungwoo tells him, standing up and pulling Seungsik’s chair closer to the middle. Seungsik looks up, light from the screen reflecting off his pupils. He only scrolls for a second before picking at random. The song starts with a light, acoustic guitar sounding through several speakers around him. Seungwoo turns off the main light by the door, revealing strips of warm colored lights behind the couch, the soundbooth, around the door. They remind Seungsik of candles. Seungwoo gently grabs his arm.
“Setting the mood?” Seungsik teases, but he allows Seungwoo to pull him up anyway. Seungwoo shrugs, flashing his tongue and teeth grin.
“Is it working?”
Seungsik laughs, more a giggle -- the giddy one that Seungwoo is so good at pulling out of him. Seungwoo lays back on the couch, tucking the pillow behind him against the armrest. He guides Seungsik in between his legs, kissing the top of his head as he rests his head on his chest. Seungsik is smiling, feeling warm and relaxed. He sighs when he feels Seungwoo’s fingers in his hair, carding through the dark strands, occasionally dropping down to rub at his neck. He turns slightly, tucking his face into Seungwoo, reminding him of how they woke up this morning. He feels the vibrations in Seungwoo’s chest as he hums along to various songs. Seungwoo is wearing the same clothes he came over in last night, his usual scent mixing with the shower gel he used this morning. It fits, oddly enough, Seungsik thinks. Every part of them blends together into something pleasant. Unexpected, but natural.
Good.
“None of these have your voice,” Seungsik says after a few songs have played through. He shifts, hand on Seungwoo’s chest as he looks up at him. Seungwoo nods.
“This is all production I’ve done for other artists,” he explains. “It’s their voice, their instruments sometimes. I do the mixing, the mastering.”
“Oh,” Seungsik says, tracing little shapes in the black sweatshirt he’s laying on.
“My voice makes it onto songs sometimes,” he continues. “Background stuff or ad libs, especially if it’s a demo I did that gets picked up. But I don’t always do songs I pitched, sometimes they come to me. And then, there’s, you know, passion projects. Those are just me, but I don’t really play those for other people often.”
“I’d like to hear those sometime,” Seungsik says. “If you’d be comfortable showing me.”
"Maybe," he says, licking his lips as he runs his hand through Seungsik's hair.
“Maybe?” Seungsik asks, dropping his jaw dramatically with as big of a gasp as he can muster. Seungwoo snorts out a laugh.
"Come here," Seungwoo says quietly, trying to pull Seungsik closer. He obliges, twisting around so they can press their lips together. Seungwoo holds the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb before breaking away. He raises up gently. Seungsik takes the hint, climbing off of him as carefully as he can. He follows Seungwoo back to the desk, sitting in front of all the monitors and machinery. Seungwoo is opening another program, silence falling as he closes out of the files he let Seungsik pick earlier. “I’ll show you how it works.”
Seungsik yelps as Seungwoo pulls him into his lap. Seungwoo peers around his shoulder, making him laugh as he clicks on a file called forest.demo.
“This is new,” Seungwoo begins, “so it’s not done, but I think that’ll help show all the parts.”
He sits up straight, watching intently as Seungwoo continues dragging things around, explaining how to layer sounds and adjust echoes. Soundwaves dance across the screen. In front of him every beat, every line, every melody that Seungwoo has poured himself into it all falls together in one place. Seungwoo’s singing voice is different from his body, soft and pretty, peaceful as the words he’s singing. Seungsik leans back into the broad chest behind him, moving in his lap enough to get his attention. Seungwoo wraps his arms around his waist and rests his chin on his shoulder.
“What do you think?” Seungwoo asks as he kisses his cheek.
“About the song or the process?” Seungsik asks, looking back to him as best he can.
“Either.”
“I like the song a lot,” he begins. “You’re a good singer.”
“Thank you,” Seungwoo grins.
“I think you should show your work to others more often,” Seungsik tells him.
“Eh,” Seungwoo shrugs. “What about the process?”
He’s changing the subject. Seungsik lets him, not ready to push that. He knows the feeling.
“The process is interesting,” Seungsik begins. “It feels like, like photoshop for sound.”
“Yeah?” Seungwoo laughs, squeezing him a little tighter before gently. “Maybe you can show me your passion projects, too, then.”
“I haven’t started a photography project just for myself in a while,” Seungsik sighs. He meets Seungwoo’s eyes over his shoulder. He smiles. “I’d like to, though.”
“You should,” Seungwoo encourages him.
“Would you let me photograph you?” He asks, letting his hands fall over Seungwoo’s in his lap.
“Is that something you’re into?” Seungwoo wiggles his brow at him. Seungsik rolls his eyes.
“You know,” Seungsik says slowly, sitting back further, placing his head on his shoulder. “You never told me what you were into.”
Seungwoo bites his lip. Seungsik feels his fingers twitching under his own. “I didn’t.”
“You told me you would after we slept,” Seungsik reminds him, grinding back on him gently, testing the waters of being the one to tease Seungwoo instead of the other way around.
“I did say that, didn’t I?” Seungwoo sighs, sliding his hands on to Seungsik’s thighs.
“You did,” Seungsik replies. He turns over, just enough to kiss Seungwoo’s jaw. “So you should tell me.”
“I don’t know,” he says, looking back at the screen. Seungsik continues to watch him, even though he’s practically upside down from this angle. “I like making the other person feel good.”
“So does everyone, I’d think,” Seungsik comments. Seungwoo’s lips twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah, but, I really like it,” Seungwoo says, looking a bit spaced out. “I like seeing it and hearing it. Seeing them so fucked out and knowing I did that to them, That they let me ruin them like that. It’s hot. And then, you know, it leads to other things.”
“Like what?” Seungsik asks quietly. He places more kisses along his jaw, feeling Seungwoo fingertips dip into the skin of his thighs, pressing rough denim down into him.
“Like seeing how ruined I can get you,” Seungwoo says, glancing down at Seungsik. He moves off his shoulder, getting a better look at his face, how dark his eyes have gone. He squirms in his lap at the sudden change to ‘you.’ Seungwoo grips him harder, keeping him still, and that’s when Seungsik feels him getting hard behind him. Seungwoo looks over his face, eyes resting at his lips. “I can be a bit.. dominant, possessive, a little ruthless, at times.”
Seungwoo’s hands are wandering up his legs, under his cardigan and t-shirt, grazing the bare skin of his stomach. Seungsik fights the urge to lean forward, to grab his face and pull their lips together. He reminds himself that they’re technically in public. This is Seungwoo’s workplace.
Seungwoo clears his throat. “But, that’s all, um -- I think those things require a lot of trust, so I don’t do them often. Not outside of a relationship, usually.”
Oh.
Seungsik nods, aware of his place.
He coughs, looking away, trying to think of what to say.
Thank you for telling me.
Sorry I’m not your boyfriend. Maybe I should be so you can dominate me. After all, I’m already in love with you.
Not a lot of good options come to mind. Seungwoo’s phone rings.
“It’s Subin,” Seungwoo says, finding the device next to the keyboard in front of them.
“Of course it is,” Seungwoo breathes. He pulls his hands away from Seungsik’s skin. He slides a finger across his phone screen, answering and putting it on speaker. “Hello?”
“Hyung,” Subin whines through the speaker. “Are you busy?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Seungwoo isn’t good at hiding the annoyance in his voice.
“Where are you?” Subin asks.
“My studio,” Seungwoo replies.
“I need to stay with you this weekend,” Subin explains. Seungwoo rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath. “Sejun hyung is still sick and I’m trapped in my room.”
“Sucks,” Seungwoo mutters.
“Please, hyung,” Subin whines. Seungsik grins. He can hear the pout in his voice. He sounds younger and much less intimidating like this. “Midterms are coming up and I have thesis revisions due. If I get sick, Dr. Jang is going to kill me.”
“Stay with Hanse or Byungchanie,” Seungwoo suggests. Seungsik swats at his leg. Seungwoo looks at him with his brow furrowed. Help him , Seungsik mouths.
“I won’t get anything done with them and you know it.” Subin is good at arguing, Seungsik thinks. Maybe he should have gone into law. “Please? We can meet for coffee first.”
“Fine,” Seungwoo sighs. “Give me a few minutes. We’ll be there soon.”
“We?” Subin asks.
“Seungsikie is with me,” Seungwoo says.
“At your studio?” Subin sounds shocked. Seungwoo seems indifferent.
“Yeah,” he replies. “We’re leaving right now.”
“Thank you, hyung!” Subin draws out every word, overly sweet. “I love you.”
“You, too, brat,” Seungwoo sighs, hanging up. He throws the phone back on the counter, leaning his head back against the seat and groaning.
Seungsik stands up, straightening out his clothes.
“I’m sorry,” Seungwoo says. His sweatpants do nothing to hide how hard he’d gotten during their talk. They meet eyes. He’s chewing his bottom lip, so Seungsik leans forward and kisses his nose.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I think it’s sweet he comes to you.”
“My mom would kill me if I didn’t help,” Seungwoo sighs, closing down his computer. “He knows it, too.”
“Your mom?” Seungsik asks with a laugh.
“Our moms are friends,” Seungwoo tells him. “I’ve known Subin since the day he was born. We’re the only boys out of all the kids. I think they wanted me to be a good influence or something.”
“And you weren’t?” Seungsik teases as Seungwoo locks up.
“You try influencing Subin and let me know how that goes,” Seungwoo says.
“Are you all childhood friends?” Seungsik asks. They’re back in the car. Seungwoo’s hand is back in his. He needs light conversation, something to stop him from overanalyzing whatever the fuck just happened in there.
“No,” Seungwoo begins, detangling their hands just long enough to turn. “Byungchanie is, though. We met playing soccer in high school. He’s a little younger than me and a little older than Subin, so it worked out well.”
Seungsik nods. Of course, Seungwoo is the athletic type.
“Sejun and I met in college,” Seungwoo goes on. “We had some gen ed course together. History or something. He was a theatre major when I met him.”
“That tracks,” Seungsik adds as he looks out the window. The sun doesn’t set so late this time of year, spring teasing its arrival in late sunsets and less snow.
“Hanse and Byungchan were assigned as roommates their freshman year,” Seungwoo explains. “Hanse and I had the same major for a while. He was good at production, but not really one for school. He dropped out his first year.”
“Seems like it worked out,” Seungsik says.
“Oh, yeah,” Seungwoo agrees enthusiastically. “He’s much happier tattooing. He still works on his own music, too. But yeah, I introduced Subinie to everyone when he was finally old enough to come to university. I still see him as a baby sometimes.”
“Cute,” Seungsik muses. Seungwoo gets lucky, finding a parking spot right in front of the white brick cafe.
“Don’t tell him that,” Seungwoo laughs. He leans over and unbuckles Seungsik’s seatbelt, kissing his temple in the process. Seungsik feels like he’s on an emotional rollercoaster, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it.
They walk in, no longer hand in hand. Subin is sitting at a table for four by the window, typing away on a sleek silver laptop with his backpack in the seat next to him. There is a black beanie pulled over his hair and dark framed glasses around his eyes. He looks younger like this, closer to the baby Seungwoo calls him in secret. He grins at them as they approach. It scares Seungsik. Subin always looks like he knows too much.
“Hi, hyungs,” Subin sings as they sit down. Seungsik smiles.
“Hey,” Seungwoo says. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Not yet,” he replies. Seungwoo nods.
“I’ll go,” he says. He turns to Seungsik, placing a hand on his leg under the table. “What do you want, Sikie?”
“Just get me whatever you get,” Seungsik says, reaching into the pocket of his cardigan for his wallet.
“You don’t want what Seungwoo hyung gets,” Subin says, scrunching up his nose. The baby is back. “It’s gross.”
“Americanos are not gross,” Seungwoo argues.
“Fine,” Subin shrugs. “Then they’re boring.”
“Surprise me,” Seungsik says, holding his credit card out. Seungwoo pushes his hand down gently.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Subin is going to make me pay for his anyway.”
“Thanks, hyung,” Subin grins as he walks to the counter. There’s no line ahead of him. Subin turns all his attention to Seungsik, devilish smile never fading. “How was Seungwoo hyung’s studio?”
“It was fun,” Seungsik nods. “He showed me a few songs he’s produced. He’s good at what he does.”
“Yeah?” Subin responds, one eyebrow cocked up. Now that he knows Subin was raised with Seungwoo, it makes too much sense. Both are too facetious for their own good. He can see it in specific mannerisms, certainly in the way they tease him. Subin closes his laptop slowly, staring Seungsik down as he rests his chin in one hand. He glances over to where Seungwoo stands at the end of the counter, scrolling through his phone, unaware of the mind games Seungsik is being subjected to. He feels like Subin is studying him, soon to be a section in his thesis. And he’s only said one word.
“Yeah,” Seungsik smiles with a nod. “How’s Sejunie? Still sick?”
Subin smirks. Seungsik feels like he’s playing chess in a tournament he never signed up for. “Still sick. Still complaining.”
“He does that,” Seungsik nods. “You’re not exactly the pair I’d see as roommates.”
“Seungwoo hyung lived with us both for a while,” Subin explains, opening up his backpack and sliding his laptop inside. “We had a three bedroom on the other side of campus after my first year in the dorms.” He sighs. “Then, you know, hyung had to enlist, so we got a place together. Seungwoo hasn’t lived alone since he was nineteen. I can’t tell if he likes it.”
Seungwoo comes back to the table with a cardboard carrier full of drinks and a plate of pastries. He splits them up for everyone: his iced americano, a vanilla latte for Seungsik, and Subin’s supposedly complicated twist on the shop’s house special. He puts the plate in the middle, everyone pulling their own croissant off. Seungsik makes a noise when his drink hits his tongue. It’s toasted vanilla, perfect for winter and not too sweet.
“Is it okay?” Seungwoo asks. He sneaks a hand under the table again, resting on Seungsik’s knee.
“It’s perfect,” he replies, smiling around the straw. “Thank you.”
He eats in silence, letting Subin ramble on about his cohort. He and Seungwoo comment every once and awhile, but mostly let Subin lead the conversation. He talks like he’s been stuck in his apartment with a sick roommate for weeks. Seungsik pays attention at first, but as he finishes his pastry, he seems to space out a little, watching cars and people walk by through the window.
He keeps vanilla syrup on his counter, right next to the coffee pot. He wonders if Seungwoo saw it, during the makeout session on the counter this morning, or while he cleaned up last night while Seungsik was in bed. Maybe it was just a happy accident. Or maybe Seungwoo is already paying attention. Seungsik smiles to himself. He wants to believe it. He likes the intimacy of being known down to what flavor he likes in his coffee. The little details that mean he’s cared about enough to be paid attention so meticulously.
“Sikie hyung.”
“Yes?” Seungsik hums, snapping out of his daydreams and turning back to the table. Subin’s voice is a mix of bubblegum and venom.
“You have hickies on your neck.”
Shit.
Has this been visible all day? Is it from last night? This morning? He’s only seen Seungwoo for most of the day. Why hasn’t he said something?
Seungsik shoots a hand up to his neck, covering it as best he can, mumbling out an “oh.” He can’t look at Seungwoo; it would be a dead giveaway, no matter how badly he wants to gauge his reaction. His hand is relaxed where it sits over his jeans.
“Go out when we canceled movie night?” Subin asks, biting his thin black straw.
“Oh, I don’t,” Seungsik stammers, finally looking up to see Subin’s smug grin and curious eyes. He can feel the heat in his face. “That’s a bit.. private.”
“Come on, hyung,” Subin whines. “Not you, too! Seungwoo hyung and Byungchan hyung never tell us about their hookups. Now they’re not outnumbered anymore.”
“Sorry,” Seungsik says, forcing a laugh. He clears his throat. “I just, I don’t like to talk about that sort of thing with everyone. It depends on the person, I guess.”
“But it’s just us,” Subin presses on.
“Drop it,” Seungwoo jumps in, finality in his voice. “Seungsik said he doesn’t want to talk about it. Don’t push it.”
He sounds like a dad in these moments, similar to when he scolded Subin in their apartment earlier in the week. Too much has happened in one week for Seungsik.
“Sorry,” Subin says quietly, but he’s still looking at Seungwoo, who cuts his eyes and tilts his head. Subin turns to Seungsik. “I’m sorry, hyung.”
“It’s okay,” Seungsik says. He shakes his cup, hearing ice rattle against plastic as he tries to suck up the last of the latte. He opens his phone for the first time in hours, checking the time. “I should get going, though.”
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Seungwoo asks, hand slipping off his leg.
“No,” Seungsik says, smiling softly at him. “It’s okay. Thank you, though. And thank you for this.”
“No problem,” Seungwoo says quietly, watching him stand. Seungsik tries to ignore the look on his face. Subin’s lips are tight. Seungsik doesn’t want him to think he ran him off, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he just smiles.
“Let’s all hang out again soon,” he offers. “We can try to do movie night as soon as Sejun is better.”
There’s a station a few blocks away, just enough time to walk his embarrassment off. He’s not really dressed for how cold it is, but Seungsik walks it anyway. It’d be even worse to turn back and take up the offer for a ride now. Seungsik walks down the stairs quickly, scanning his phone and trotting through the busy station to find his train. It’s busy, as expected for a Saturday afternoon, but surprisingly warmer. He only waits a minute before the train cars are coming to a stop in front of him, and he slips in with the crowd. He manages a seat. When he pulls his phone out to text Chan, he has two messages from Seungwoo.
Seungwoo: Holy fuck
Seungwoo: I am so sorry
Seungsik puffs out his cheeks, letting his breath out slowly as he tries to think of something to respond with.
Seungsik: It’s fine! I promise
Seungsik: I’m sorry I ran off. Social battery was draining, I think.
Seungwoo: Let me make it up to you?
He smiles to himself.
Seungsik: What did you have in mind?
Seungwoo: I know this is a little last minute, but would you want to have dinner Tuesday night?