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Matthew has found that life can be as thrilling as one makes it out to be. There's beauty in trying over and over again, to dust one’s knees after falling down before getting back up again, all for the sake of reaching that seemingly impossible thing up ahead.
Since debuting became his goal, Matthew never once slowed down his chase for it. No matter how many times he fell, no matter who left him behind, no matter the struggles and the temptation of quitting and just getting to go home, he never gave up. He could never regret any of it, none of his wasted youth, not when getting to finally debut felt like being reborn.
What people seemingly forget to talk about is that, once one reaches their main goal, there’s a singular moment of hesitation, one question ringing through one’s head like a church bell; now what?
It was scary, daunting, it made Matthew feel a bit lost for a while; he had been running for so long he forgot what it felt like to be still for even just a moment. But then the preparations for their official debut kicked in full force, glamour, sweat, blood and tears included, and Matthew figured out the answer all over again; you keep going.
Matthew can safely say that, meanwhile not all had been sprinkles and rainbows, a grand majority of the last seven months had been amazingly fulfilling. He got to do so many things he always dreamt of doing, got to meet so many great people, idols and unsung heroes of the industry alike, all while doing what he loves and being loved for it.
It’s mind-blowing to him, especially after days like these; performing for the first time at the MAMA Awards in an enormous overseas stadium in front of a sea of both fans and legends of the industry was an experience that he won't ever be able to describe. Getting not one but three trophies as well was the icing on the cake he thought he would never get to taste.
Even then, out of costume and barefaced in his hotel room, he still can't shake the thrill of it all, hands slightly trembling as they reach for a drink from the overly expensive mini-fridge. He’s so immersed in his own head, reliving the adrenaline of the night while staring off into the distance, that he doesn't notice somebody approaching him until there are arms wrapping themselves around his waist.
Matthew instinctively melts into the familiar warm embrace, a soft sigh dropping from his lips as he feels Gunwook hook his head over his shoulder. It isn't uncommon for them to do this, quite the contrary, over the course of the last few months, they have found themselves right there, right in each other's arms, more often than not. Matthew isn't exactly sure when they started doing this, when it became so comfortable, so comforting between them, but he isn't one to look for logic to what brings him joy. And Gunwook brings him joy like no other.
In the quiet of Matthew's hotel room, there is no need to play it up for laughs, no need for a reason, they just do this, because they are them. Matthew leans into Gunwook’s back and he can feel the way Gunwook’s eternally warm cheeks lift up slightly against his own.
“Thinking of celebrating all alone, hyungie?” Gunwook asks, lightly teasingly, referencing the tiny vodka bottle in Matthew’s hold he took out of the mini-fridge. “Thought we were meant to do that with the others in Hanbinnie-hyung’s room later.”
Matthew shakes his head softly, playfully huffing. “A little bit of pre-gaming never hurt anybody, has it?” He says cheekily, and that wave of delight he always gets when Gunwook laughs at his silly jokes rushes through him when he does so right on cue.
“If you say so, hyungie, but I’m not carrying you to your bed if you get too trashed to walk again,” Gunwook replies, light like a summer breeze, teasing and lovely, like how he always is with Matthew.
Matthew curls his nose up and squints his eyes as he turns on his axis to face Gunwook with pursed lips, faux-offended. “It was only one time, Gunwookie, let it go,” he reproaches, a bit whiny because it’s funny, and the smile on Gunwook’s face cements in his heart that he will make a fool of himself a thousand times over just to keep that brightness intact.
Gunwook doesn't let go of him despite the change in positions, doesn't push away now that they're face to face, entirely too close to each other. In fact, he seems to bring Matthew in closer to him subtly, as if afraid Matthew will try to get away from him, and that's such a silly thought to Matthew; why would he ever push his happiness away?
Matthew brings his hands up towards Gunwook’s broad shoulders, settling gently over his black tank top; his way of saying he is not going anywhere, either. Gunwook smiles, toothy and pretty, eyes shining under the butter yellow light coming from the bedside lamp, and Matthew can tell he isn't the only one still feeling the residue adrenaline of the night they had.
“Can you even believe it?” Gunwook gushes, giddy and youthful, hands squeezing his waist once in excitement. “Three trophies!” He laughs, a bit high-pitched, a bit incredulous still, walking on clouds and being too gone to fear the fall.
Matthew should be the mature one, should maybe be humble and say something along the lines of their overly rehearsed accepting speeches, thanking anybody but themselves, never acknowledging their hard work. But in the safety of Gunwook’s arms, Matthew never feels the need to pretend to be anybody but himself, so he laughs, just as giddy, and holds on to Gunwook as he skips through the clouds right alongside him.
“It’s fucking crazy, right?” Matthew asks, shaking his head as if to get rid of this dream that must be clouding reality, but it doesn't fade, because Matthew is living on the other side of his goal, and it’s not like the awards dropped on their laps without them lifting a singular finger. After everything they went through, all the sweat, tears and emotional exploitation for national TV, these damn awards are well deserved.
Matthew looks up at Gunwook’s face, sees it all reflected back in his eyes and for a moment, he can't help but fixate on how Gunwook’s baby cheeks are mostly gone now. Everything is fucking crazy. Matthew can't believe he gets to live this life.
“I’m so thankful I get to share this with you, too,” Matthew blurts out, his mouth running away from his brain, but as it is usual for him, he doesn't feel shame nor regret for being earnest, not when he means each word.
Gunwook melts like how he always does when Matthew says something overly heartfelt, as if it touches his soul each and every single time, and it’s such a delight, to have somebody that takes his feelings seriously, that doesn't look down on his sentimentalism, but cherishes it instead and takes it to heart.
“How can you say such heart-fluttering things, hyungie?” Gunwook asks, shaking his head as if baffled by Matthew’s emotional availability, not with disdain, never with judgment, but a seemingly need to protect that should feel stupid given their age difference but that still warms Matthew's heart either way.
Matthew’s lip twitches to the side, lopsided and teasing. He brings one hand up to Gunwook’s face slowly, and when he cups Gunwook’s cheek, he blames his boldness on the lingering adrenaline still making his fingertips numb.
“Maybe if you weren’t so amazing, I wouldn't have anything nice to say,” Matthew comments, entranced by the warmth emanating from Gunwook’s face, and how slowly it rises in temperature and deepens in color. “But you are amazing, so what can I do?”
Matthew watches as Gunwook finally caves in and leans into his hand, pliable skin pressing against his slightly calloused hand, and there's something charged growing in between them that Matthew has no idea when it even got there to begin with. Gunwook’s arms tighten around him as if to make sure this is real, and Matthew might have been a goner from the start, because he steps closer without a single thought.
“I learned it from my hyungie,” Gunwook says, voice soft but clear, and have Gunwook’s lips always been so plump looking? Is he wearing lip-gloss or something? Why are they shiny like that? Does the lip-gloss have any flavoring? Or maybe it's spit? What would that taste like? What would Gunwook's lips feel like beneath his own? Why is it suddenly a million degrees in his hotel room, anyways?
“You’re always amazing on stage, too, Mashu,” Gunwook’s voice forces Matthew’s gaze back up to his eyes, and the heaviness there makes his breath hitch slightly; praise going to his head immediately. “Always so good, so captivating,” Gunwook’s voice is so smooth, like silk and the clouds Matthew is falling through. “I’m glad I get to watch you up close,” Gunwook’s fingers spread apart, one hand leaving the safe familiarity of Matthew’s waist, reaching up his spine and planting itself in between Matthew’s shoulder-blades.
Their new position is intimate in a way that makes Matthew’s limbs tingle. It feels heavy and charged with things Matthew can't bring himself to name nor deny. With their chests pushed together, matching each other's slow breathing, the contact between their skins feels electric, and Matthew is falling, falling, falling, uncaring of where he might land.
“Only on stage?” Matthew sounds breathless to his own ears, not nearly as teasing as he was intending to, and he has no idea when exactly he started doing soft swiping motions with his thumb over Gunwook’s cheek, but he can't seem to be able to stop.
“You’re amazing everywhere,” Gunwook sighs out the words like they have been on the tip of his tongue for a very long time. “At all times,” Gunwook adds, a bit of a smile tugging on his still entirely too plump lips, and his gaze gently traces Matthew's whole face before settling heavily on his mouth. “It’s kind of annoying really,” he is teasing, maybe with the hope of making everything going on feel less charged but it only adds to it, only makes Matthew inch closer to him.
“Yeah?” Matthew asks, leaning toward him in a way that's undeniably, unarguably tempting. He is goading Gunwook to take the last step because of a myriad of reasons, but mostly because it’s fun and he wants to see what exactly makes Gunwook break.
Matthew should really think about what they’re baiting each other into doing. He should take a step back and stop this before they do something they regret, because meanwhile their flirting has steadily become more intense, Matthew never intended doing something about it for both their sakes. It isn't that he doesn't want to kiss Gunwook or that he never thought about it before, it’s about what would happen afterward, where would they go.
He doesn't want to ruin the comfort they share, he doesn't want to have to let go of his happiness, but fuck is it hard to concentrate about any of that right then. All he can think about is Gunwook’s shiny, plush lips, and how they're now mere centimeters away from his own, and suddenly, everything else is static behind him.
“Yeah,” Gunwook replies, and Matthew’s fingers twitch when he can feel the ghost of his lips moving across his own. “I should do something about it,” Gunwook says, asking for permission without saying it out loud in so many words, as if there is any universe in which Matthew could pull away from him right then.
“You should,” Matthew says, voice raspy, as his free hand travels to the nape of Gunwook's neck and buries itself between his dark hair. “Do something, Gunwook, anything,” Matthew doesn't want to think about how breathless he sounds, and he doesn't, not a singular thought remaining in his brain that isn't an endless loop of Gunwook’s name.
Matthew wets his lips without thinking, and the only warning he gets that Gunwook’s dam breaks is the way the hand between his shoulder-blades digs its fingers in.
Before he knows it, Gunwook’s lips are pressed against his own, deathly soft, and he was expecting desperate biting force, but he should have known better, what with Gunwook and his eternal gentleness.
There's some slight hesitation and such softness to Gunwook’s action that Matthew gets the urge to bite, to devour and consume, to keep safe between his ribs, but instead of giving in to his endless hunger, he gives back the same softness with none of the hesitation.
The firmer press of their lips makes them both melt into each other's arms, pressing impossibly closer to the other, Gunwook’s initial tentativeness gone out of the window in mere seconds. Matthew helps guide Gunwook’s face with the hand holding on to his jaw, angling it to make them fit like puzzle pieces. The slow drag of Gunwook’s lips against his own makes Matthew’s decorum grow legs and walk away from him. His lips are even softer than he could have ever imagined.
Gunwook’s hands encompass most of his back, fingers slightly digged into Matthew’s tank top, not allowing Matthew to move a singular inch away from him. He grows bolder by the second, pulling and pushing just the right amount, and when Gunwook parts his lips invitingly, Matthew swears he will be the death of him.
Matthew takes his time with it, though, because if he is going to do this he will make the damn most of it. He swipes his tongue against Gunwook’s bottom lip slowly, trying to remain composed when Gunwook’s mouth drops open even more, before taking the plump lip into his mouth, sucking slightly on it. Gunwook’s arm wraps itself around Matthew’s hips, squeezing him closer, and Matthew doesn't have the mental capacity to lose his mind at the small sound that comes from the back of Gunwook’s throat.
Popping Gunwook’s lip free from his mouth makes a sound that Matthew will hear in his dreams for the foreseeable future. He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, and the corner of his mouth twitches to the side when Gunwook immediately chases after him. Matthew smiles into their kiss as Gunwook presses their lips together over and over again, uncaring if he’s kissing more teeth than lips, a note of that desperation Matthew was expecting at first coming into play.
Matthew’s breath gets caught in his throat when Gunwook manages to take a hold of his bottom lip and pulls it between his teeth. Smile dropping immediately, he instinctively tugs at Gunwook’s hair, but it only makes Gunwook press his teeth in deeper.
Matthew should seriously stop this now, he should break away and just put distance between them. It would be the smart and responsible thing to do, he has to stop them both from getting lost in each other. But then Gunwook frees his lip and kisses it better, and Matthew is only one man against the enormity that is mutual desire, so he kisses him again, again and again, until they're both breathless and panting slightly into each other's mouth, hands gripping at each other as if they’re trying to dig beneath their skin for a place to call their own.
“Matthew,” Gunwook sighs into his mouth. “Matthew, Matthew,” the way he says his name, the reverence dripping from his tongue, each syllable making their lips brush against each other, it makes Matthew want and crave and long for so much more with such intensity that it makes him dizzy.
“Gunwook,” he replies to his call, just as gone, just as dreamily. “Gunwookie,” mine, mine, mine, he wants to chant, wants to make it real, and it's all so goddamn senseless, so baseless, it should scare him, it really should, but it doesn't, can't bring himself to care enough for it to do so.
Gunwook shivers as his name leaves Matthew's lips, hands squeezing again, and the idle thought of having finger-shaped bruises in the morning makes Matthew hold on tighter.
“We should –” Gunwook starts, but stops dead in his tracks when Matthew drops a kiss to the corner of his mouth, the overwhelming need to kiss him consuming him for a moment. “Shit,” he curses quietly under his breath, before kissing Matthew again.
It’s their most fierce kiss so far, desperate in a way that makes Matthew's stomach twist. Their tongues meet in the middle and explore each other with urgency, Gunwook laps up his teeth and Matthew bites Gunwook’s lips every chance he gets, and by the time they have to part ways for air, Matthew feels like something inside of him shifted to the left.
They pull apart slowly, almost as if in a daze, the cold winter air hitting their spit-wet lips making goosebumps rise in Matthew’s skin. Gunwook presses their foreheads together for a moment, eyes still screwed shut, and the shaky sigh he lets out is filled with so many raw emotions, Matthew feels like he shouldn't have picked up on it. Gunwook wets his lips and opens his eyes in the next breath, moving away from Matthew slowly.
“We should stop,” Gunwook says even if he sounds like he’d rather take a dive into an ice bath than to do that. Matthew hums, indulgently neutral, and Gunwook’s tiny pout is entirely too distracting not to stare at. “I’m serious, we –” Gunwook wets his lips again, and Matthew snaps his eyes back up just in time to see Gunwook do the same. “We need to stop.”
Gunwook sounds like he’s trying his hardest to believe his own words, like he needs to hold on to this last bit of decorum not to completely lose himself. He has always been an incredibly mature guy for his age, but Matthew kind of feels bad for him right then; Gunwook still oozes want from his every pore, and yet, he believes he has to stop, as if his own desire scares him. It isn't like him, and Matthew wants to know why this is different, why he is different, but – that's unimportant and selfish; self-centered. If Gunwook says they should stop, they will stop. Matthew refuses to make a big deal out of this.
“Then let go of me,” Matthew says quietly, maintaining intense eye contact, not teasing, not judging, but completely neutral for both their sakes.
Gunwook’s hold on him tightens for a moment, eyes flicking down to Matthew's lips with raw longing etched into them, before snapping them back up again, more determined than before. For a singular moment, Matthew thinks Gunwook will keep kissing him, just like how they both want; for a fleeting second, Matthew lives in a world where they get to do this together too. And then Gunwook slowly relaxes his hold, letting Matthew go, and the coldness that seeps into Matthew’s very bones has nothing to do with the chilly winter air around them.
They untangle from the other slowly, as if any brusque movement might spook the other, eyes locked together, and Matthew pretends Gunwook’s hands don’t linger on his hips for his own sake. Matthew takes a step back and it feels final in a way that threatens to overwhelm him, so he pushes his burning longing and eternal hunger inside a locked lead box, hoping to never trip over it again.
He doesn't throw away the key though, and he wishes he could, but he is only one man, and, for better or for worse, he has always run for what he wants at full speed. He just needs to figure out what type of shoes to wear, and if there is anything at the finishing line waiting for him, or if this is a lonely endeavor that will end in doom.
All in due time, he guesses.
A layer of awkward silence settles on top of them once they're at a safe distance away from each other. Gunwook doesn't break eye contact but he’s picking the side of his thumb with his pointer finger, a nervous tell that Matthew always found adorable. He is steady like an oak to everyone, but he fidgets more than tree branches during a windy day. Matthew can't help but just stare at Gunwook, trying to recalibrate himself into what they need right that second, even if his stomach still feels queasy.
“We –” Gunwook starts and chokes on his own spit, cheeks burning bright before laughing awkwardly and clearing his throat. “Uhm,” he says very eloquently, swallowing hard and clenching his hand until his knuckles are white. “This –”
“Doesn't have to mean anything,” Matthew finishes for him, a small smile growing on his face, out endearment, out of resignation, and out of a bit of hopefulness of being proven wrong he immediately tries to squash down vigorously. “It’s okay, Gunwookie,” he reassures, because it is. There are only very few things that would make them not be okay. “It’s just a kiss,” he lies, trying to sound neutral, casual, even if the words taste bitter in his tongue that still vaguely tastes like him.
Gunwook’s face doesn't drop, he is too good at managing his own expressions for that to happen, but Matthew still notices the twitch it does at his words, and it’s awful, it’s terrible, and it goes against both their natures, but they need to be careful about this sort of stuff, even if longing gets in their way, even if they stumble, they need to keep their heads on the right way. So, no matter how much of a confirmation that micro-expression was for Matthew that this decidedly wasn't just a kiss for either of them, he won't do anything about it.
“Yeah,” Gunwook agrees, voice gravelly like he’s forcing himself to push the words out. “Yeah, it’s just a kiss,” he lies, and Matthew smiles, concrete heart falling to his feet.
“Neat,” he says, nodding as an excuse to shake his head and rearrange his thoughts. “Now,” he says as he turns around to pick up the mini vodka bottle off the table behind him, before facing Gunwook with a smile that isn't fake, but isn't his brightest either. “Ready to celebrate? The rest probably started without us already, so we should get going,” Matthew offers, hoping being around other people, their members at that, will be enough to help them find their footing in the real world again.
Gunwook is silent for a beat, and Matthew finds himself dreading his answer, but then Gunwook inhales deeply, and smiles, even if it’s a bit wobbly around the edges.
“Lead the way,” Gunwook says, theatrical and as light as he can manage and Matthew appreciates his effort with such fierceness he laughs a little to ease them both back into their normal dynamic.
Matthew walks towards the door with light steps, forcing himself not to check if Gunwook is following him nor what expression he is making, and he swears to himself that they will be alright, no matter what.
𖣠
Gunwook is tired. He feels like he hasn't had a good night of sleep since he was fifteen years old and on TV for the first time in his life, but ever since they debuted, his terrible sleeping habits got way worse. To be fair, being nineteen and having the worst sleeping schedule known to man isn't uncommon, so maybe he’s just living life like how he’s supposed to.
Maybe he was always meant to reach this age and be miserably tired at all times, no matter the reason behind it. Maybe, in another universe, he’s slaving away studying to be a history professor or interning for some awful company, or maybe he even followed the steps of some of his friends and he would be getting his ass handed to him while doing drills at 5am. Who knows? Not him, that's for certain. All he knows is that he is dead tired.
They’re preparing for their first Japanese single, so everything has been more hectic than usual, but when isn't it really? Gunwook loves his job, loves performing, loves his fans, loves that he gets to do this with people he loves alongside him. He does his best at trying not to think about the ticking time bomb that is their expiration date looming over them all, but there is one thing that’s inescapable regardless; there's no time to slow down.
They have to do it all and do it outstandingly, they have to conquer and reach highs never reached before and keep doing that over and over again; there's no excuse, no time to rest, not if he doesn't want to live with regret. So Gunwook pushes himself, like how he has always done, and keeps his head held high, no matter how dead fucking tired he is.
Gunwook cannot stress enough how exhausted he is right then. The only sleep he has been managing to sneak in during this last jam-packed week has been during their 45 minute drives to different locations, and even then he tries not to do that, because sleeping makes his face warm up like no other, and that's just trouble for his make-up artists. So, Gunwook is running on about 6 hours of non-restful sleep in the last 4 days, if he’s being overly generous, and yet, now that finally their schedules aligned just perfectly to give them around 12 free hours at the dorms, he cannot seem to fall asleep for the life of him.
It is pure and utter bullshit, but there he is, staring at the ceiling, pretending he didn't hear Hao sneak away to go sleep with Hanbin, and just letting his mind spiral over the stupidest little things ever. Like, no, nobody remembers that one time he was a little too loud during that one behind the scenes, and, no, nobody back home prints out his pictures to throw darts at them. Why can't his brain just shut up for a few hours?
He’s usually good at not letting things get to him, but everybody has bad days, he supposes. It doesn't make it any less frustrating, though. Gunwook feels itchy all over, fingers picking at his cuticle, chewing on his bottom lip in a way he knows will get him scolded later on, and it’s all so stupid.
Fed up with himself and knowing if he doesn't do something about this awful mood he is in he will lose his mind, Gunwook throws his covers to the side and climbs down his bunk bed. He stands in the cramped bedroom for a few seconds, squinting in the dark while he ponders what to do next. Taking another shower might make him sleepy, but he doesn't want to bother anyone with the sounds, and playing games might actually make him worse, so ultimately, he decides to get some snacks; that should calm him down.
He walks toward the door and heads to the kitchen with light steps, trying not to disturb his members as he’s pretty sure most of them are normal and sleeping already. He isn't entirely surprised to see somebody at the counter mixing something in a mug, they're nine people living together after all, but warmth does spread through his limbs when he notices who exactly is there.
Matthew stands in the kitchen, illuminated only by the light coming from the living room, which can't be good if he’s cooking something, but he looks so cute in a tank top and big basketball shorts that Gunwook throws every thought about kitchen safety out the window in seconds. He approaches him without thinking, as if drawn to him magnetically, and before he can even announce himself, his arms are already wrapped around Matthew’s midsection and bringing him toward himself.
Matthew startles for half a second before he relaxes in his embrace, and Gunwook has to fight against the need to drop all his weight on top of him. It’s instantaneous, Matthew is in his arms and Gunwook’s worries fly away. He sighs, bone deep tired, and presses his forehead to Matthew's nape, uncaring of anything but just getting to feel Matthew against him.
“Hey, buddy,” Matthew greets quietly and the fact that Gunwook can hear his smile in his voice makes something break loose inside his chest. He hums in response, hugging Matthew closer somehow, his mind finally slowing down, maybe too much and too abruptly, but he won't complain about it. “Can’t sleep?” Matthew asks, sympathy thick in his voice.
Gunwook just hums again, more frustrated this time, before turning his head to the side and resting it in the crook of Matthew’s neck. He doesn't miss the way Matthew shivers slightly, he never misses anything about Matthew; it’s his curse to bear.
“Wanna talk about it?” Matthew offers, one hand coming to rest on top of Gunwook’s forearm, as if he too needs to touch him back. It makes Gunwook smile slightly.
“Nah, thanks,” Gunwook mumbles, pushing through when Matthew shivers again. “What are you doing?” He prompts, craving to hear Matthew’s soothing voice rambling about whatever.
“Oh!” Matthew exclaims excitedly, making Gunwook’s smile grow, eyes falling shut. “I was on TikTok bored out of my mind, right? But then I saw a recipe for cake that you make in a mug,” Gunwook hums to signal he’s listening, snuggling closer to Matthew's neck. “And it looked super easy, just some basic ingredients and a microwave, which we have,” he feels Matthew outstretch his arms so he guesses he’s gesturing toward the microwave close by. “So I thought I could try it out for a midnight snack,” Matthew finishes, excited and so cute and so wonderful that Gunwook can't help it at all and he kisses his neck.
“That’s nice,” Gunwook mumbles against Matthew's neck, lips dragging against the tender skin, and this time when Matthew shivers he doesn't ignore it. He brings him closer, angling his face so it’s slotted perfectly in the juncture of Matthew's neck and shoulder and he kisses him again and again and again.
Matthew’s fingers dig into his forearm, but he doesn't pull away, doesn't push him off and starts cursing at him, so Gunwook doesn't think this is a problem, even if it really is one they have been pretending hasn't been there since November of last year. It’s February now, and Gunwook is feeling brave. Or rather, he’s too sleep deprived to care about pretending he hasn't been dying to taste Matthew again.
“Gunwookie,” Matthew warns, voice thick and a bit breathless. “We shouldn't start this,” he says, but when Gunwook presses a kiss to his jugular, Matthew angles his neck to give him better access, so his words are just that, just words.
“You smell good, hyungie,” Gunwook says quietly, pressing his nose to Matthew jaw, trying to remain normal and not just blurt out what he truly is thinking; the taste of Matthew skin beneath his lips is making him a bit delirious, idle thoughts of what he would taste like in different parts of his body making him a bit desperate, a bit bolder.
Gunwook drags his lips slowly down the length of Matthew’s neck before biting down softly at the base of it. The reaction is immediate, Matthew leans against his chest, not leaving a singular inch where they're not touching, and he chokes on his next exhale. Gunwook’s hold around his middle tightens, keeping him close, dropping tiny little kisses over the spot he just bit, before biting down again a few centimeters away from the first spot.
“Shit,” Matthew hisses out, and for a second Gunwook fears he was too rough, that he actually hurt him, but then one of Matthew's hands flies up toward the back of his head and presses him against his neck harder.
Gunwook might have lost his mind the second he stepped into that kitchen, because even though he knows he should stop this, even though he was the one that put distance between them the first time something like this happened, he can't bring himself to let go, not that night, not right then. Not when Matthew’s breathing deepens the longer Gunwook kisses his neck, not when he fits so nicely in his arms, not when Gunwook is finally getting what he has been craving for so long.
He should stop, but he doesn't want to.
They stay locked like that for what could have been mere seconds or full hours, with Gunwook getting lost in the scent and taste of Matthew's skin, going from little sweet pecks to gentle bites he selfishly hopes will leave marks over and over again until Matthew tugs his hair and pulls him away from his neck. A pathetic little sound gets stuck in his throat at being separated from his hyungie, but then Matthew is turning on his axis and facing him, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, and the last working brain-cell in Gunwook’s brain fries out.
“Kiss me,” Matthew demands, hands already buried in Gunwook’s hair and tugging him toward him, and who is Gunwook to ever deny his Mashu anything at all?
Getting to kiss Matthew again is everything he has been daydreaming about for the past four months and so much more. They slot against each other with none of the hesitation that was present during their first kiss, none of the slowness nor softness; this is raw want oozing out of them. They chase each other’s tongues, lapping up their teeth and tracing their palates, it’s messy and wet and everything Gunwook wanted.
Gunwook pushes Matthew against the counter until he’s looming over him, before taking pity on Matthew's neck and impulsively deciding to do something about it. He stops kissing Matthew for a second, delighted in a hazy sort of way when Matthew chases his lips, lowering his hands until they’re around Matthew's legs, before picking him up and placing him on the counter. Matthew rapidly adjusts to the change in position, hands flying to bring Gunwook close again, legs parting so he can slot between them; two puzzle pieces finding each other.
One of Gunwook’s hands goes to Matthew's waist, like it always does, and he places the other on Matthew's outer thigh, before diving for his lips like a starving man. The new angel makes it feel like he’s somehow reaching in deeper into his mouth, like they were meant to do this since the beginning and Gunwook can't get enough of it all, of Matthew’s taste, of the little sighs that keep dripping from his lips, of the softness of his skin beneath his hands.
In the back of Gunwook's mind, there is a little voice screaming at him to have some shame, to stop letting his own selfish desires win, to just stop this doomed fantasy already before it can catch up to him. But Gunwook is tired of being afraid, he is tired of his own brain eating itself, he is just dead fucking tired. He knows too, that once the sun rises, he will be mortified of his behavior, but just for one night, just for one moment, he’d like to indulge in the peace Matthew brings to his mind.
They kiss and kiss, lips slotting together maddeningly, hands grasping at each other like they can't get enough of the feeling of flesh beneath them, and Gunwook makes sure to enjoy it, documenting every push and pull, every reaction and gasp, treasuring it all. Matthew pulls on his hair just slightly, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulder and Gunwook makes a sound at the back of his throat that would be embarrassing if he had the mind to care.
They part for air but Gunwook can't stop tasting him, can't contain the need to just feel him beneath his lips, so Gunwook begins a languid trail of kisses until he reaches Matthew's jaw again, before biting down softly. Matthew’s grip on him tightens, a gasp falling from his lips that’s dizzying, and Gunwook takes it as an invitation to be bolder.
He kisses Matthew’s jaw, right below his pierced ear, the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sprinkling in some more gentle biting because he can't help himself when it comes to Matthew, and Gunwook realizes he could spend the rest of his life right there, right in Matthew's arms, lips pressed against his skin, and he’d have no regrets to speak of.
“Gunwook,” the way his name sounds dripping from Matthew's mouth right then makes him hum deeply and close in on him further. “Gunwookie, we – shit,” he starts saying, and Gunwook really should listen to what his hyung is trying to say but he feels a bit gone, a bit hazy around the edges, from both desire and sleep deprivation, so he just keeps kissing him, over and over again.
“Gunwook,” Matthew tries again, and the way Gunwook can feel him swallowing against his lips sends a shiver down his spine. “Baby,” at the soft nickname, Gunwook stops in his tracks, listening attentively, still buried in Matthew's neck. “We need to slow down, okay?” Matthew's tone is gentle, not judging, just guiding them back to safer territory, even if he still sounds breathless.
Gunwook slowly rises to face him again, and he chokes on his own spit because fuck what a sight to behold Matthew is. Bleached blond hair messily framing his face, swollen lips shiny from their spit, black tank top hugging his built body in ways that are mouthwatering, pretty eyes kind despite the heaviness lingering in them; he looks beautiful to him in a way that makes Gunwook feel oddly fragile.
Gunwook – he isn't a fool, he has been aware that what he feels for Matthew isn't typical appreciation, but admitting that even to himself isn't necessarily easy, not with everything it would entail, not with their history, current circumstances and the uncertainty of their future hanging heavily above them. The safest options have always been to play into it and promptly call it a bit, pass it up as just burning admiration, or just straight up ignoring it. Right then, though, with Matthew looking so mesmerizing, breathless because of him, it’d be obtuse to deny it.
He wants Matthew, in any way he can have him, that has always been true; it’s about time he admits it. At least, to himself.
“You’re very sleep deprived, Gunwookie,” Matthew is saying, and Gunwook tries to tune him in, but the realization he just had is making him feel itchy all over, overwhelming his senses. “I don't want us to do something you’ll regret in the morning, okay?” Matthew is gentle, empathetic, and all Gunwook can manage to do is just blink down at him and nod, knowing he’s right, even if his hands seem to have glued themselves to Matthew’s body.
“I’m not –” Matthew starts but stops mid-sentence to swallow hard, suddenly looking a bit unsure. “You didn't do anything wrong, okay?” He reassures softly, and Gunwook nods again, slower this time. “I just can't start this if you aren't in your right mind.”
It’s incredibly reassuring to know Matthew is caring and respectful like this, that he gives a shit about Gunwook's state of mind more than he does about his own pleasure; it’s not a surprise at all to him. Gunwook just doesn't know how to explain that he currently feels the most lucidly awake he has in probably two weeks, a million and a hundred thoughts bouncing around his head like a light-show, but it’d be impossible to begin explaining, would be too baring and probably chalked up to Gunwook’s lack of sleep. So he nods for a third time, and slowly pulls his hands away from Matthew’s body.
Neither of them comment on the way they linger for a fraction of a second too long, that's for each of them to dwell about in their own heads.
“Okay, hyungie,” Gunwook mumbles softly, taking a step back. “I’m sorry–” the words aren't fully out before one of Matthew’s hands shoots out to grab at his forearm, the unreadable expression cascading across his face making Gunwook bite his own tongue.
“Don’t,” he says, a bit too harshly, with a note of distant desperation to it that is disconcerting. “Never apologize,” his tone turns softer, a bit pleading, but firm nonetheless. Gunwook can't stop looking at his eyes. “Not to me, not about any of this,” the way he references whatever that hangs between them is – Gunwook isn't ready to face that.
“Okay,” Gunwook says softly, gaze jumping from eye to eye, landing on Matthew's lips for a moment because he can't help himself, before returning to his eyes and blinking rapidly. “Okay, hyungie, whatever you want,” and Gunwook won't ever be able to express how fucking much he means those words.
Whatever Matthew wants, Gunwook will give it to him. No matter what, no matter if it isn't enough for himself, Gunwook will give his everything and more, just to keep Matthew around.
Matthew stares at him for a beat too long, eyes unreadable, and he knows he’s reflecting the exact same thing back. For a moment, they exist in endless limbo, both knowing there is more to all of this, but wary of it all regardless; like locking a tiny bit of sea water inside a seashell, existence between existence, unable to be whole yet eternal. But then Matthew smiles just like how he did back in November, trying to be more, better, for both of them, and Gunwook lets the seashell drop to the sand; it will always find its way back to him, anyways.
“How about you go wait for me on the couch while I finish this mug cake?” Matthew offers, hopping off the counter. “Then we can watch something and share it,” he stares up at him, smiling and warm, and Gunwook feels oddly hollow.
“Okay,” Gunwook feels like a broken record, skipping over the same section over and over again, stuck. But he smiles back either way, because he has to be good too, he has to be better for all of this to not mercilessly drown them both. “But I get to choose what we watch,” he says over his shoulder as he turns around to head to the living room.
Matthew playfully squints at him before laughing airily and turning toward the forgotten ingredients on top of the counter, and that is that, he guesses. Gunwook makes his way to the couch slowly, plastic smile turning more real the longer he hears Matthew buzzing around the kitchen, while idle thoughts of the ocean’s vastness lull his troubled mind.
Eventually, after that God awful mug cake is defeated and a few episodes of some random anime come and go, Gunwook finally falls asleep. Head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, hands intertwined, heart beating to the left of where it used to be; it is the most peaceful rest Gunwook has in four years.
𖣠
Matthew isn't stupid, he knows what he is doing isn't the best choice he could have made. They have to catch a flight in the morning to keep preparing for their upcoming comeback, he has to be presentable and not look like absolute death for the fansites that will inevitably show up to blast them with flashes and constant murmurs; he knows getting drunk isn't the smartest thing to do. Matthew, also, does not give a shit about decorum that night.
Nothing particularly upsetting happened, their experience in KCON Hong Kong was fun in its own right, he didn't mess up any choreo or fell flat on any note, he didn't fight with any of his members nor staff, everything, by all means, is fine. Matthew just feels oddly on edge, and he could pretend that he doesn't know the reason like how he has been doing since November, but maybe that's the problem to begin with.
Gunwook is, to put it lightly, driving him insane. He would say it started ever since that damned kiss they shared in their kitchen, but as stated before, Matthew isn't stupid. He knows everything has been particularly to the left for a long while, even from before their first kiss back after the MAMA awards; they have been walking down this line for some time now. Matthew doesn't regret any of it, couldn't be able to even if he tried, but it doesn't make it any easier, not when Gunwook is so maddening on a daily basis.
It isn't that Gunwook is cruel about it, he doesn't taunt him about what went on, quite the contrary. Gunwook is perfectly normal and good to Matthew, overly so, and never brings up whatever the fuck they got going on, but that is the issue. There are times when Matthew feels – not used, never dismissed, but just like he’s missing something, like maybe, just maybe, this whole thing means more to Matthew than it does to Gunwook, which is stupid, because it was just some kissing, and it shouldn’t mean anything to him either.
But the fact of the matter is that it does mean something to Matthew. He doesn't know what exactly, doesn't want to find out fully yet, but it’s something that he holds closely to his heart regardless. The recurring issue is that Gunwook makes him feel like he’s the only one hung up on it, until he suddenly doesn't.
There are times when Gunwook is – intense, to say the least. Not in a bad way, never pushing, but it’s there and undeniably; the way he looks at Matthew, the way his hands always seek him out, the things he says to and about him, they all speak for themselves even if he laughs it off in the end. Matthew tries to take it at face value, to just enjoy their little moments, but sometimes Gunwook does stuff that blindsides him and he’s always left feeling just the tiniest bit off.
Just earlier that day, Gunwook fell asleep on his shoulder while they waited their turn to rehearse, a normal occurrence with their stupidly packed schedule. Matthew stayed with him, mostly on his phone, just enjoying the warmth Gunwook always emits right next to him. When their time to go up was announced, Matthew waved away one of their managers, deciding to wake up Gunwook himself. Bad fucking idea.
He softly shook Gunwook, gently coaxing him away from dreamland, expecting some sleepy groaning and complaining, but Gunwook apparently wasn't as deeply asleep as he seemed, because the second he sensed Matthew’s face was close to his, he reached over and dropped a singular, fleeting kiss to his jaw.
Matthew immediately found himself frozen in place, reliving distant memories of a barely lit kitchen and warm lips against his neck, but before he could react to any of it, Gunwook was already standing up and stretching his arms over his head, yawning like nothing was amiss, like he just didn't make Matthew’s gut twist into knots.
Neither of them commented on it, not before going up to rehearse, not in the waiting room before their actual performance, not even while they started heading to their hotel after the event was done. Matthew is a professional both at his craft and at deflecting, so no mistakes were made nor awkwardness was felt, but that stupid off feeling lingered, because it always does.
He could be enjoying the fact that for once they all got to have solo hotel rooms thanks to Ricky and Hao’s popularity allowing them to pull some strings; he could have pulled up some anime on the enormous TV, ordered some room service and just tried to relax for the very few hours he got to himself, but he didn't. No, Matthew chose to make a stupid decision and he opened a bunch of those tiny liquor bottles in the mini-fridge, mixed it with some lime soda and now he’s very well on the path to be utterly shit faced.
He isn't entirely out of it, maybe he even is indulging a bit in the concept of being drunk and is just allowing himself to be a bit more mindless, but that funny feeling is stubbornly still clinging to his esophagus, no matter how many long sips he takes of his bitter drink.
Matthew is annoyed. At this God-awful useless drink, at his stupid hectic schedule, at Gunwook, and most of all, at himself. He should know better than to long for things that are truly unreachable, he should know better than to make the same mistake twice, but he is a creature made of desire, and there's nothing to do about that. It’s his biggest flaw and most formidable characteristic.
He should just call it a day and go to sleep. He should be smart and sensible; responsible. He bounces his leg while staring straight at the door, having a staring contest with it as he finishes his drink, wincing as it goes down, and truly, the decision was made the second he felt Gunwook’s soft lips against his jaw again.
Matthew heads out the door in record time, mindful to pocket his room’s key in his sweatpants but not enough to stop what he is doing. With slightly wobbly legs, he walks toward what he swears was the door Gunwook entered after waving goodbye at him earlier that night, praying that his memory isn't playing him any tricks and he knocks before he can knock some sense into himself.
Nobody answers for an eternal beat in which Matthew’s over-imaginative mind goes into override, but before he can sit down in the hallway and do something stupid like cry, the door creaks open and Matthew's mind goes blank at the sight in front of him.
He has seen Gunwook in tight black tank tops and baggy sweatpants a hundred times before, it’s Gunwook’s go-to attire for most of their practices; it doesn't make it any easier to face when he’s already in a stupidly annoying mindset. Gunwook smiles down at him, naturally rosy cheeks warm, kind eyes gentle and playfully intrigued and it dawns on Matthew that this was a terrible fucking decision, but he’s already there, so he might as well commit to it.
“Hey, hyungie,” Gunwook’s voice is quiet, mindful of the presumably sleeping people in the rooms surrounding them. “Did you get lonely?” He says it lightly teasingly, because it's a known fact that Matthew is a social creature by default that craves being around people most of the time, but it makes him feel a bit hysterical right then.
Gunwook has no fucking idea what he does to him.
“Why are you naked?” Matthew blurts out, squinting up at him, instead of just spilling his guts in the hallway, like a reasonable human being. Because, really, that is the more pressing matter here; what even is the point of wearing such a skin tight shirt, anyways?
“Naked–” Gunwook’s mouth drops mid word, cheeks heating up further, and he is such a walking conundrum, it drives Matthew crazy. Gunwook snaps his mouth shut and squints back at him. “Matthew, are you drunk?” He sounds a bit baffled by this prospect but not entirely judging, just confused.
“No,” Matthew purses his lips slightly. “Maybe,” he shrugs a bit uncoordinated. “A tiny bit,” he concludes with a sniff, defiantly staring up at him, as if daring him to say something mean.
Gunwook is silent for a beat before clicking his tongue and shaking his head, but he just looks endeared more than anything, so Matthew’s hackles drop without much fight.
“Come on in, hyungie, we can't have anyone catching you like this,” Gunwook says, opening his door further to allow Matthew into his room.
“Seriously,” Matthew says as he steps into the room, turning around to face Gunwook as he closes the door behind him. “Where are your clothes?” He accuses, blocking Gunwook’s path, crossing his arms over his chest.
Gunwook smiles, amused and indulgent, and raises one eyebrow at him. “We are wearing basically the same thing,” he says, gesturing toward Matthew with his chin, eyes roaming slowly across his body in a way that makes Matthew’s fingertips feel numb.
“No, we aren't,” Matthew says resolutely, because a decently fit black shirt isn't the same as a skin tight tank top. “This,” one of Matthew's hands shoots out to take a hold of the seam of Gunwook’s tank top, raising it just a tiny bit, meant to be playful despite how charged the air gets at the action, “doesn't leave much to the imagination, don't you think?”
Gunwook laughs a little under his breath, smile crooked to the left, eyes heavy yet shining, and Matthew takes a step closer, he can't help it, can't do anything about it.
“Are you slut-shaming me right now, hyung?” Gunwook asks, light and playful, and Matthew’s hands have a mind of their own because they sneak around Gunwook’s body until they’re placed just in that tiny little sliver of skin between Gunwook’s shirt and his pants.
The warmth beneath his fingertips makes Matthew’s mind soar to the skyline, feeling light and airy even with the heavy weight of desire tying his guts into pretty bows. Gunwook’s skin is rippled with goosebumps but he is steady nonetheless, leaning against the door as his own hands find a place to rest on Matthew's shoulders. He begins massaging them, because that’s just what he does, digging his fingers into the muscle below, doing slow circular motions that are mind melting, before moving two centimeters to the left and starting all over again.
“Depends,” Matthew replies, trying to be playful too, but his mind is a bit occupied with the feeling of skin against skin. “Are you a slut, Gunwookie?” He asks, and it is a joke, even if it isn't really.
On one hand, he wouldn't really care if Gunwook got around, promiscuity isn't something to be ashamed of; Gunwook can do whatever he wants with his body and free time and Matthew wouldn't ever judge him nor anybody else for it. On the other hand, it would make Matthew’s blood boil to know that somebody else knows what Gunwook’s lips feel like against their jugular. It’s irrational and he needs to squash the feeling down immediately, but Matthew can't really stop his mind from wandering in his intoxicated state.
Gunwook stares down at him, intense eyes calculating as a small smile makes his lips twitch. “Would that make you jealous?” He asks, because Gunwook is smart like that, quick on his feet and incredible at reading people, especially Matthew.
He stares up at Gunwook, trying to decipher if this is some sort of test, if he will get punished for being honest, but it’s impossible to concentrate and form a coherent thought when Gunwook is looking at him like that while looking like that as his thumb swipes over his collarbone again and again. Matthew has been feeling like he lost his mind for way too long now, he thinks it’s about time he starts acting like a mindless person.
“Yes,” Matthew says, loud, clear and dead serious, and he takes a step closer to Gunwook, crowding him against the door.
Gunwook’s eyes widen before dropping to Matthew’s lips, the hand holding his right shoulder traveling until it’s cupping his nape, fingers digging into the skin like he wants to climb beneath it.
“Then, yeah, I am,” Gunwook says softly, even as his cheeks heat up at the mere thought of it, even if they both know he’s lying through his teeth.
Matthew feels his skin set ablaze, waves of unadulterated longing sticking to the back of his throat, logic completely gone and forgotten. He steps forward, pressing their chests together, and the hand in Gunwook’s waist sneaks around until it’s on his lower back, fingers beneath the stupid tank top and digging into soft skin. They’re pressed together so closely that Matthew can hear Gunwook’s hard swallow before his lips drop open just slightly, tempting in a way Matthew isn't currently strong enough to deny.
Matthew lingers, though, eyes roaming Gunwook’s pretty face for a beat suspended in time. He wants to sear this image into his mind; Gunwook pressed against the door, flushed and breathing deeply, want written all over his face. He truly is maddening; Matthew won't ever be able to escape him.
Desperate longing taking over, Matthew angles his face up, trying to catch Gunwook’s lips like how he has been dying to do so for who knows how long, but Gunwook lets their lips ghost against each other momentarily before turning his head to the side, and Matthew feels his stomach drop to his feet at the rejection.
“You’re drunk,” Gunwook mumbles, the slight strain to his voice, as if he’s holding himself back, making Matthew feel better minutely, even if he frowns up at him.
“So?” Matthew asks, a bit annoyed, and he is too gone to stop himself from kissing Gunwook’s jaw when it’s right in front of him, so he does. He covers Gunwook’s jaw and neck in tiny little pecks until he reaches the hollow of his throat and that stupidly distracting beauty mark right at the base of it. He kisses that too.
Gunwook inhales sharply at it, so Matthew goes to do it again, but suddenly the hand at the back of his neck squeezes and he freezes in place. Gently, Gunwook coaxes his face away from the safety of his neck, and once they're fully facing each other, Matthew’s breath gets caught in his throat when he sees the almost pleading sincerity melting from Gunwook’s eyes.
“I can't start this if you’re not in your right mind,” Gunwook says, clear and gentle, and Matthew’s mind reels at having his own words being relayed back at him.
Matthew could fight this, could admit to them both that he isn't that drunk, he could try convincing Gunwook that that sentiment only applies to him, because he is good and wonderful, and Matthew’s ego shouldn't ever be entertained less it eats them all alive. He doesn't, though, because it wouldn't be fair to either of them, but mostly Gunwook himself.
Matthew would rather chop off his own hands than to force Gunwook to feel guilty for indulging in Matthew's greed. He might be selfish, but he isn't heartless.
He stares up at Gunwook, the shadow of his long lashes making his gaze feel even more intense, but tenderness lingers in his eyes in a way that is almost overwhelming. Pureness has nothing to do with innocence, Matthew is deeply aware, yet the way Gunwook looks at him right then – it cements in his mind that Gunwook's heart is untainted; whole and raw, beating in his sleeve. It's dangerous, terribly so, to want to be part of him; Matthew fears he will always fall short compared to him.
Matthew drops his head on Gunwook's shoulder and breathes out very carefully. “Why are you so good?” He asks defeated, annoyed at his own relentless greed.
Gunwook's hand at the back of his neck squeezes once, before it slowly starts petting his short hair. “Because you deserve the best,” Gunwook says, quietly heartfelt, and Matthew does his best not to drown in the enormity of his sincerity.
They stay like that for a few beats, pressed together as Gunwook's pets his hair soothingly, and Matthew wants nothing more than to climb beneath Gunwook's skin and live there. He knows he should pull away, should just bite the bullet and do the walk of shame back to his room, take a shower and try to wrestle his guilt until he passes out, but for just a few minutes, Matthew indulges. That indulgence, he knows, is what got him into this mess to begin with, and what will be the end of him no doubt, but it's hard to care about that with Gunwook's warmth surrounding him.
Eventually, Matthew opens his eyes and sighs. He pulls his hand away from the small of Gunwook's back slowly, greedily drinking up every millisecond of contact until it's gone, and he slowly peels himself away from Gunwook's warm embrace. Gunwook doesn't immediately let go of him, and this thing he does of always lingering is dizzying, disorienting, but Matthew wouldn't change it for the world either way.
“You’re so annoying, did you know that, Gunwookie?” Matthew mumbles as he takes a step back, making sure to add an extra spoonful of playfulness and a dash of pout to his tone to convey he's just trying to lighten up the atmosphere. "With your good heart and pretty lips and massive shoulders,” he adds, giving those massive shoulders a good squeeze to drive his point across. “So annoying,” he is meant to sound playfully annoyed but he just sounds wistful, maybe even a little bit dreamy.
Gunwook giggles, bashful and light, cheeks deepening in color, and he truly is gorgeous. “You seem to enjoy all of those things about me,” he says, cocky and teasing, but with a note of distant incertitude that makes Matthew's chest constrict painfully.
“That's the problem,” Matthew replies, missing the mark for casual banter by a kilometer and then some, exposing his jugular without meaning to, and the laugh he adds at the end of the words doesn't help hide any of it.
Gunwook is graceful and beyond kind because he just laughs alongside with him, even if he is a beat too late to it, but they pretend everything is fine, like how they always do, and Matthew can't help but idly think of an endless carousel, stuck spinning in its axis, moving in circles yet static in place.
"How about we go to sleep, yeah, hyungie?” Gunwook saves them from awkwardness with a gentle smile, pulling himself away from the door and gesturing to the king sized bed just a few paces away from them. “We have an early flight to catch tomorrow."
“Yeah, that’d be smart,” Matthew feels everything catch up to him at once, exhaustion making his bones feel like lead, cotton filling up his head as he starts walking toward the bed without thinking twice about it. “You’re smart, Gunwookie,” he says mid-yawning, kicking his slippers off his feet and flopping onto the bed like a wet noddle.
“So are you, Mashu,” Gunwook's voice sounds distant already, too soft for his suddenly sleep-addled brain to catch the nuances to his tone, but all his worries fly away as he feels the mattress dip next to him, warmth enveloping him once more.
By the time they get comfortable in the bed, Matthew is already too sleepy to dissect their exact positions; so what if Gunwook's forehead is pressed to his nape while Matthew hugs one of his arms close to his own chest? It's the best goddamn sleep he has in over a year.
He sleeps so well, in fact, that the next morning they almost sleep through their alarms. They make it work, even if they have to endure their members' raised eyebrows and side eyes as Matthew scrambles out of Gunwook's room to get his bags. Thankfully none of them says anything about it, but Hanbin's poker-face is as horrible as his lying voice, so Matthew bites his tongue and tries to prepare himself for whatever that conversation might look like, whenever it might come.
Matthew is certain Hanbin won't have the nerve to get on his ass about the whole thing, he doesn't typically dabble in being a hypocrite, but even then, Matthew is prepared to be honest; there is nothing going on between Gunwook and him. No matter how bitter the thought tastes, no matter how wrong it will feel to say it, at the end of the day, it is the truth.
Kissing is just kissing; it doesn't have to be more complicated than that.
Matthew will repeat this in his own head until he believes it, so hopefully by the time he has to say it out loud, he won't sound like he is lying through his teeth.
𖣠
Gunwook would say their schedule gets hectic after they come back from Hong Kong, but that would imply it wasn't already an overly packed mess. He’d love to say that he deals with it without any hitches, that he smiles unwaveringly through it all and doesn't have bad days, but that would be idealistic in a way he stopped being years ago. He gets tired and grumpy, he sleeps like ass and barely has time to do anything by himself, but every day he wakes up and keeps going, so he thinks that counts for something, maybe everything.
His body aches in places he never thought could ache, their company’s scheduling abilities make him wonder how the fuck can anybody be so ass at their job, and after particularly grueling days, the reflection staring back in the mirror is jagged around the edges in an unrecognizable way, but he doesn't let any of it stop him from living his dream. This is life, constantly in motion, unforgiving life, and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
His members help greatly with making things not feel unbearable. They uplift and encourage each other, they wait for those who fall behind without judgment, and they do it all with unrelenting love. Gunwook comes to realize that he will always love these eight men, which is cheesy to even think about and he would rather never have to say it out loud in so many words, but it resonates true between his chest nonetheless.
There is one person he leans on more than anybody else, delighted beyond words when he’s relayed on back. Matthew is his rock, and Gunwook is his. Their bond goes far deeper than whatever remains unnamed between them, it’s something that Gunwook will always hold dearly close to his heart and soul, no matter how it might present itself.
He isn't that deep in denial not to admit to himself that he does long for Matthew in ways that aren't necessarily platonic, but like with everything else, he deals with it in his own way. It’s easier than what he imagined it would be, and maybe that has to do with the fact that by all intents and purposes, Gunwook is glued to Matthew's side. Maybe it’s greed, maybe it’s gluttony in a way that should scare him straight, but it doesn't, not when Matthew is always so receptive to everything Gunwook throws his way.
Gunwook isn't cruel enough to make a game out of it, mostly because if he were to start testing limits he’s sure he will be the one to break first, but he does get bold at times. A look that is a bit too intense, hands that linger a bit too long, gentle squeezes on skin that are meant to appear innocent but they both know they aren't. Matthew is addictive and Gunwook can't get enough of him.
Matthew, for his part, takes it like a champ, casual and relaxed, even if Gunwook sometimes manages to catch just as his breathing hitches or his eyes wander. It all just serves to fuel Gunwook’s greedy hands, it makes him want and crave even more, because it would be one thing for this to be a one way street, but the fact that Matthew’s want is as big as his own makes it that much more captivating.
It isn't lost on Gunwook, either, the way Matthew lingers too. He is a fairly touchy person to begin with, but the intensity of his gaze when dealing with Gunwook specifically is what gives him away. Gunwook eats it up each time, he stares back and lets some of his own yearning escape because it’s impossible not to match Matthew, it’s impossible to hide anything from him, and Matthew eats it up right back like a starving man, before pulling away with a smile that is meant to be playfully innocent but isn't.
They aren't stupid, they know something is going to end up happening again sooner rather than later, and Gunwook could say that he dreads the hollowing loneliness that always follows those encounters but he’d be lying. Everything and anything is worth having Matthew in his arms and getting to taste him again.
The intensity of his own desire consumes him at times. He feels ravenous with it, dizzy and animalistic; he wants to devour and be devoured back. He knows he should be smart, he should pull away and get himself in check for the sake of it all, but he doesn't think he could even if he wanted to. And why would he, when Matthew wants him just as much as he does?
Gunwook indulges in the mutual desire simmering between the two, patiently counting down the days until he gets to have him again, wondering and daydreaming of what he might get to do with Matthew next.
That day is no different than any other. The whole group is filming for a variety show that they actually enjoy doing, there's loud banter and laughter following them along, and even if Gunwook wasn't initially feeling his best, the atmosphere smooths out some of his sharper edges. As the schedule approaches to an end, they play some last minute games while waiting for their food to be cooked, and it isn't lost on him that he ends up by Matthew’s side. It’s a known secret that if Gunwook is grumpy, thrusting him in Matthew's direction will make him lighten up in no time.
The warmth of the grills, the promise of good food and having Matthew pressed against him make Gunwook relax like how he hadn't been able to in a few days. So much so, that it doesn't even register to him when he sneaks a hand inside of Matthew's loose white tank top over his shoulders, until Matthew squeezes his knee under the table.
He turns to face him and catches sight of what exactly he is doing in a very public place being documented by numerous cameras, and he has to channel all the media training they hammered in them not to react in an extremely obvious way. Nothing would make this worse than to draw attention to the situation, so he smiles at Matthew a bit apologetically and slowly takes his hand away from inside of his shirt.
He lingers, is the thing. It’d be impossible not to form both the logic that any brusque movement will be too noticeable and also the irrational need to prolong the feeling of Matthew’s skin beneath his hands. Gunwook lingers, pressing his fingers down on Matthew's round muscular shoulder and Matthew has to pretend nothing is amiss even as his skin ripples with goosebumps.
They don't say anything out loud about it, even if the atmosphere between them stays charged for the remainder of the schedule, with Matthew eyeing Gunwook playfully, leaning in to speak to him as if they aren't glued together already, with Gunwook's arm thrown across Matthew's shoulders and drawing soft circles on his bare skin. They keep it professional, or as close to it as they usually do, and neither acts differently while people are around them.
Eventually, they're back at their dorms well after night falls, and Gunwook finds himself gravitating toward Matthew, which isn't uncommon by any means, but the buzzing of anticipation beneath his skin feels warranted for once. Matthew lingers in the living room as their members slowly start retreating to their bedrooms, and Gunwook comes and goes as he usually does, chatting with whoever strikes up conversation, casual and deceptively unhurried.
Gyuvin is the last one to throw a good night over his shoulder as he retires for the night, and Gunwook has to stop himself from cheering out loud like some crazy person. He was going to play it casual, maybe even hard to get for the fun of the push and pull, but it takes one look in Matthew's direction for him to get up from the sofa and walk toward Matthew at a speed that would be embarrassing if there were anyone else there to witness.
Matthew meets him half way, equally as eagerly, and Gunwook feels his chest bloom like a forest, breathing in life into him in an almost dizzying way. Intertwined, Gunwook would never be able to say with certainty who is the one to lean in first, but once their lips touch such inconsequential details are meaningless to him.
Kissing Matthew feels like everything is clicking into place, it feels easy and simple, but without losing its marvel and complexity. It isn't boring, it isn't something Gunwook takes for granted, yet it comes to him as naturally as it does breathing. Their lips slot together over and over again, with Matthew's hand buried in his deep blue hair, his own circling Matthew's waist, chest to chest; heart to heart.
It'd be easy to get lost in him, it'd be so very easy to make a home out of this, Gunwook knows this, can feel it in his melting bones, can taste it in the tip of Matthew's tongue. If only it were as easy to talk about it.
Gunwook fears he won't ever be able to convey his feelings regarding Matthew, he isn't too sure what they even are to begin with, too scared, too young, too busy to deep dive into the complexities of what they could be and would entail not only for him but for Matthew and the group as a whole. He feels selfish for wanting Matthew so excruciatingly bad, he feels greedy and a bit rotten, but he can't seem to stop coming back for more. Then Matthew's hand cups his jaw, thumb gently swiping against the tender skin, and Gunwook thinks that maybe, he should just bite the bullet, if having this is what is at stake.
Gunwook slows their kissing down to a more languid pace, intending to pull away but always caving in at the last second and keeping at it. Matthew smiles into the kiss, probably catching up to Gunwook's predicament, and Gunwook's stomach does somersaults and back-flips at the domesticity of it all. He kisses the corner of Matthew's mouth, his two beauty marks in his cheek, the one under his eye, before pulling away just enough to look at Matthew's face.
His breath hitches at the serenity in Matthew's expression, easy and warm, like he wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the entire world, as if Gunwook's embrace is his favorite place. Matthew looks at home in his arms and Gunwook wants nothing more than to be that for him.
Gunwook realizes they have been going on about this completely wrong. Pushing each other away for the sake of preserving their norm when the option of having something better if a little bit more complicated is right at their fingertips is just stupid and cowardly. It's scary, terribly so, but one of them has to make the first step, and Gunwook is tired of being scared.
"We should talk about this," Gunwook says, clearly and to the point, even if his throat immediately dries out and he has to swallow a sudden lump of fear lodging in his throat.
"We could," Matthew replies, that serenity in his gaze lingering somewhat even as his eyes turn a bit more serious. "Or you could keep kissing me and we could just figure it out later," Matthew sounds unbothered, casual, his thumb still doing those sweet little sweeps in his jaw, eyes dropping to Gunwook's lips in an inviting way.
Gunwook swallows harshly, hands squeezing Matthew's hips for a brief moment of weakness, mind working overtime to keep itself from self-destruction. Matthew's option is – it is either the smartest way to go on about this whole thing or completely doomed to fail from the start. Gunwook isn't too sure, he's a bit out of his depth when it comes to things like these; casual flings, romance, sex, it all took a back seat as he chased his dream. He never really regretted it, but now he's feeling the loss of it a bit too keenly.
Logically, he knows they should talk, people say communication is the key to every interpersonal relationship, but if they were to talk about, what would Gunwook even say? Yes, he does want Matthew and yes, it isn't entirely platonic, but he isn't sure if it's even romantic or if he is just horny and hormonal. As far as he is aware he has never been in love before, so how would he be able to tell if he is now? Love is so scary too, would he just have to come out and say? Wouldn't that be too forward? What if Matthew rejects him? What if he doesn't? What if he later finds out he doesn't mean it and he has just been lying to Matthew that entire time? That'd be fucked up.
Say they confess and it goes smoothly, what would they do about it? Would they enter a relationship? Of what kind? Would they be casual or committed or open? What if they break up? Then what? Gunwook can't even think about that without his heart twisting painfully in his chest.
What would any of this mean for the group too? How would it affect the group's dynamics? Would they say something about it or keep it a secret? Would Gunwook be able to handle either of those situations? He has never come out to anybody in so many words, and he knows his group wouldn't ever be mean about it, but it is still very scary to even think about. He doesn't want to even vaguely think about what their company might say about any of it.
Gunwook feels his heartbeat pulsing on his temple, mind filling up with questions he simply doesn't have an answer to, overwhelming him in a suffocating way. And then he focuses on Matthew in his arms, the tranquility in his face, bitten lips and kind, patient gaze grounding, and he thinks back on how simple it feels to be with him like this, how they just click, and everything promptly turns into white noise in his head.
"This is bound to come bite us in the ass," Gunwook says quietly, knowing he is making an unwise decision out of fear but not willing to do anything to stop it.
"I don't care," Matthew says, not dismissive of Gunwook's worries, but rather as if he truly doesn't care what the future holds, as long as he gets to have this. "Just kiss me," Matthew's tone is fragile in a way that makes Gunwook's gut twist, and everything keeps pointing to them needing to talk but –
Gunwook won't ever be able to deny Matthew anything, he will always hold on to what he can, barb-wired as it might be, as long as Matthew stays in his arms.
Gunwook kisses Matthew, and their fate is sealed.