Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Despite the early morning, the sun was already blazing outside. It was already unbearably hot, the kind of irritating spring heat that seemed determined to stick to everything; on clothes, furniture, permeating the very air. It was the kind of heat Sieun hated the most, the kind that fogged up his mind and made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feeling of his clothes stuck to his body. However, it wasn’t the heat that was on his mind as he navigated his way across the classroom with ease, settling himself down at his desk.

To the outside world, Yeon Sieun didn’t look any different. He presented himself in the way he usually did; uniform pristine and crisp against his body, hair meticulously combed so that it fell gently against his forehead. Inky black eyes, so gentle and affectionate without him trying, sported a blank look as usual. Nothing about him seemed different.

But those who really knew him would argue otherwise. Juntae could see it, in the way that Sieun fidgeted with his pen, eyes roaming over study notes on his desk but completely out of focus. Baku could see it, in the way, every once in a while, Sieun’s eyes flittered to the door, an action that Sieun himself probably didn’t realise he was doing. And Gotak could see it too, in the way Sieun’s feet tapped against the cold concrete floor; once, twice, thrice.

Sieun was excited, an emotion not usually associated with him, but his friends could feel it nonetheless. And they knew the reason why, had seen the way Sieun’s eyes lit up just for a moment when their homeroom teacher had announced earlier in the morning that someone new would be joining their classroom. Had seen how Sieun’s lips flickered upwards, a fleeting moment, but enough to convey his feelings.

So when the door opens, just before their first period officially started, none of them are surprised when Sieun’s head immediately snapped to the sound, eyes locking instantly onto the person who walked in.

Suho.

Juntae, Gotak and Baku had seen him once, just once, on that day Sieun had gotten the call. When he’d surprised them by rushing, running to meet him. They’d seen the way Sieun’s steps had faltered once he arrived at the garden of the hospital, fingers shaking as he simply took in Suho, as if afraid that one wrong move, one wrong step and Suho would shatter into an illusion.

They’d watch the way Sieun had taken hesitant steps towards Suho when he finally spoke, as if confirming that this wasn’t a dream. None of them could stay after that, not even Baku. Not when Sieun had crouched down in front of Suho, fingers grazing against his arm, just a light touch. But so intimate, so gentle, that it felt like they were intruding.

After that, Sieun would visit alone. Did not attempt to make excuses for Suho when he didn’t request to meet them. He’d only tell them plainly that Suho was still recovering, that he didn’t want to meet anyone else right now. He just wanted his grandmother and Sieun. And he’d say it with finality, wouldn’t accept any arguments. Because to him, whatever Suho wanted, needed, took top priority. The trio quickly learned just how important Suho was to Sieun then.

So they’re not surprised when Sieun’s eyes trail after every single step Suho takes now, expression unchanged, but fondness pooled in the depths of his eyes, for those who knew Sieun enough to figure out.

Suho had changed a bit since the last time they viewed him from afar, hair longer, eyes less tired. His right hand gripped a cane, and he limped when he walked to the podium to the awaiting teacher. But a quiet confidence had replaced the unease with which he had looked at them at the hospital garden.

“I’m Ahn Suho. Please take good care of me.” Suho’s voice came out slightly gravely, as if he was holding back a cough, but he spoke with confidence and ease, warm brown eyes locked on to a specific spot inside the classroom. The trio didn’t need to turn their heads to know, he was no doubt looking at Sieun.

“…an empty seat.” Juntae briefly caught the tail end of the teacher’s voice. Suho nodded slightly, before moving across the room with ease, his feet seemed determined on a destination already.

And they could feel it, the moment the rest of their peers figured out where Suho was headed.

Sieun hated noise, hated his personal space invaded. So that not even Juntae or Gotak, even Baku, didn’t try to invade that space. It was a tacit agreement between everyone in the classroom, the empty seat next to Yeon Sieun should be left empty. It was even an agreement that their teachers attested to; they’d seen the violence the quiet, pretty boy could inflict if pushed.

And the teacher had read Suho’s file, seen that he had fought an almost two years’ battle in coma, had managed to miraculously wake up. Clawed his way back into the world of the living and managed to get back on his feet. It would be a tragedy if such a strong boy was to be defeated here, in his classroom, because he didn’t know the rules as of yet.

The teacher’s mouth had just opened, about to ask Suho to choose any other seat, when Sieun stood, eyes locked on Suho, as if to meet him halfway. There was no going back now, he really couldn’t fight, but as the only adult in the classroom, the teacher knew he had to protect Suho. Couldn’t let him fall to the hands of Yeon Sieun simply because of a seat.

He’d just taken his first step to try and diffuse the situation, when Suho speaks.

“Your seat, the window one. Can I have it?”

There’s a collective gasp in the classroom, sweat instantly beaded on the teacher’s forehead and he almost wanted to grab Suho and shake him. Was it not enough to sit next to him? He went further by asking for Sieun’s seat? It was as if Suho didn’t value the life he has painstakingly fought to have.

It’s Sieun’s next action that has everyone in the classroom, including Sieun’s friends doubting their eyes.

They watched as Sieun moved forward, fingers gently tugging on Suho’s arm, as if afraid to break him and slowly guiding him into the seat, Sieun’s seat. They watched as Sieun cleared the table of his things, placing them onto the table next to his seat, the very one that no one else had ever touched. All the while, Suho watched him, a faint smile on his lips, eyes unbelievably fond.

Because despite the confidence he exuded, Suho was scared. Insecure. Worried that in those two years, Sieun had moved on. Became a version of himself that Suho no longer recognised. And even though after he woke up, Sieun never left, came to him almost every day, tended to his every need. That insecurity was still there, gnawing at his mind like a wound that would never heal.

So he wanted to do something, wanted to cement himself, wanted the rest of the students in Eunjang High to see, to know that Suho was special to Sieun. That he could obnoxiously ask for Sieun’s seat and he’d give it to him. Just because it’s him. That no one, not even Sieun’s new friends could reach the pedestal that Suho was placed on in Sieun’s heart.

He watched as Sieun meticulously cleared the table without a word. Then, Sieun reached into his bag, groping around a bit before bringing something out, placing it on Suho’s table.

“Drink it later after you take your meds.” It’s the first words Sieun has spoken since Suho entered the classroom, low so that only Suho could hear, affection lacing every word. And, as if he couldn’t help himself, Sieun reached out his hand, fingers grazed against Suho’s arm, a light touch before he pulled away, taking his new seat without a word of complaint.

Suho glanced at him a moment, before his eyes fell on what Sieun had placed. A milk carton. Strawberry. Suho’s favourite.

A smile tugs at his lips and Suho reaches for the carton, fingers holding it reverently, as if Sieun had placed the sun, the moon and the stars on his table. And not an ordinary strawberry milk carton.

Eventually, the teacher pulls himself back together, returns to the front to begin the lesson.

Sieun didn’t make any big movements after that, focused on his studies as ever. But he didn’t complain when Suho fidgeted in his seat, didn’t reprimand him when Suho poked his arm to ask for a pen because of course he forgot. Only rolled his eyes ever so slightly before handing him one.

And Suho could see it in the way the students around whispered, eyes falling on him every so often. The way Sieun’s friends looked between them, curiosity held in their gaze, and something else, as if they were starting to figure out the weight of Suho in Sieun’s life.

Good, Suho thought, smile wide on his lips as he attempted to focus on the lesson.

Let them all realise that for Yeon Sieun, Ahn Suho would always come first.

Chapter Text

By lunch time, the heat had simmered down somewhat, changed from scorching to a level that was a lot more tolerable. Two classes in, Suho had succumbed to sleep, allowed the teacher’s voice to act as a lullaby. His head rested in the crook of his left room, face angled towards Sieun, so that every time Sieun turned his head, what he saw was Suho’s face, lips formed into a slight pout. Eyebrows furrowed slightly, leaving Sieun with an itch to smooth them down, because even in sleep, he wanted Suho to be at peace. Would enter his dreams if he could, fight all the demons that lurked in the shadows of his mind.

Sieun’s thoughts are scattered by hesitant fingers gripping his shoulder. Reluctantly, he turned his eyes away from Suho’s sleeping form, eyes settling on Juntae who had stood in front of him at some point in time. Behind him stood Baku and Gotak, expressions neutral as they observed their friend.

“Sieun-ah…should we wake him up? It’s lunch time.” Juntae’s voice came out in a whisper, as if afraid to disturb Suho’s rest. Sieun noticed how hesitant he seemed, not mentioning Suho by name, unsure if he was allowed to. And Sieun understood why; Suho had not exactly been welcoming towards his new friends. Did not want to meet them despite the many times Sieun had vouched for their character.

But Sieun couldn’t blame him, couldn’t force him. Because all Suho had known before the coma was his grandmother, Yeongi, Sieun. And then he had woken up, to a world that moved on while he slept, a world where Yeongi disappeared without a goodbye. A world where the people responsible for his condition continued to live, at peace, no repercussions. A world where even Sieun had to eventually look forward to the future, even though his heart remained tethered in the past, with Suho.

So Sieun couldn’t blame Suho for selfishly wanting just him, couldn’t fault him for insecurities that Suho desperately attempted to bury, but Sieun noticed all the same. Didn’t mind indulging Suho’s every whim. The world has not been kind to Ahn Suho; Sieun intended to give him all the kindness that the world owed him.

“No, let him sleep.” A small smile as Sieun’s eyes unconsciously flickered to Suho’s face, to the cane placed delicately near his desk, before he turned back to Juntae. “Do you guys mind if we eat in the classroom today?”

Behind Juntae, Gotak and Baku turned to each other, a silent conversation passed between them, they saw the same wonder in each other’s eyes. Because they knew just how much Sieun hated what he just suggested. Preferred to spend his lunch time as far away from people as possible, on the bench inside the basketball court, or sat under the shade of a tree. But they hadn’t missed the look Sieun directed at Suho’s cane.

Ah. They realised. This was for Suho. Sieun didn’t want him to stress himself, didn’t want him to walk anymore than he needed to. Would sit inside a classroom filled with boisterous students for Suho’s sake.

“Why would we mind? It’s fucking hot out there anyway.” Baku’s the first to get over his surprise to answer, followed by Juntae who smiled a bit before settling into an empty seat near Sieun’s table. Gotak glanced at Suho one more time, a slight crease to his eyebrow before he also shrugged, finding a seat to settle into.

They ate in silence, almost. Baku still attempted to steal Gotak’s food, Juntae still sighed in exasperation at their antics, and Sieun still rolled his eyes at his friends’ behaviours. But it was obvious that something had changed, just a bit. Because every once in a while, Sieun would glance at Suho, his lips would flicker upwards in a way that it never did for anyone else. His eyes would soften instantly, his fingers would twitch like he was stopping himself from reaching over to Suho, like it took all he had not to touch him.

At one point, Suho changed position, head lolling to the other side, faced towards the sun. A groan escaped his lips the minute he did, the sunshine too sudden against his face. It seemed like he was about to wake up. And Sieun got up instantly, gently lowering the shutters until Suho relaxed his brows, till his breath began to even out again.

It’s then that Sieun noticed; the milk carton with the cartoon strawberry printed on it was completely empty. Suho, at some point had opened it, drank it all, somehow without Sieun noticing.

“Idiot. I told him it’s for his medicine.” Sieun’s voice came out in a whisper, the word he uttered somehow fond.

Then, addressing the trio, “I’ll get him another one.” He held up the empty milk carton. “He likes to have something sweet after he takes his meds.”

Sieun turned back to Suho, doesn’t stop himself from touching Suho’s head, just a light touch before he pulled away, “take care of him.”

A laugh escaped Gotak’s lips before he could help it, “got it. We’ll protect your boy for the entire five minutes it’ll take you to buy him strawberry milk.”

Sieun doesn’t answer, his expression doesn’t change. Only he felt the slight tingling on the tip of his ears hidden by his hair, indicating they’d turn red. He turned his gaze back to Suho again.

“Seriously,” Gotak’s voice softened, “we won’t let anything happen to him.”

Because even if they still haven’t spoken a single word to Ahn Suho, even if he clearly had no interest in getting to know them. The trio had figured it out by now; Ahn Suho was important to Yeon Sieun. So they’d protect him, share in Sieun’s promise to offer Suho the kindness the world owed him.

Only then does Sieun tear his eyes away from Suho, allows himself to leave the classroom at ease. His friends would be there for Suho, they’d accepted Suho as one of their own even though they had yet to speak a single word to him. It’s also why Sieun didn’t attempt to force any sort of friendship between them and Suho; he was sure Suho would warm up to them in his own time. Ahn Suho, made up of love and light, slightly tainted by darkness, would soon be himself again. Would soon figure out that Sieun was his, and would remain his even if Sieun had other friends now.

Back in the classroom, it’s silent for a moment after Sieun leaves, then the whispers began in full force; as if Sieun’s departure had triggered the sudden noise. There was no doubt who the topic would be about, the sleeping boy that had demanded for Yeon Sieun’s seat, who Sieun seemed to inexplicably have a soft spot for. Who had Yeon Sieun springing out of his seat to lower the shutters because a little splash of sunlight fell on his face.

Eunjang’s white mamba, coiled around the arms of a boy who emerged from God knows where, tamed.

It felt almost insulting, watching Yeon Sieun cater to this boy, sickly, weak. Who needed a cane to navigate, whose voice came out gravely, as if holding on to a cough for far too long. Whose only redeeming quality was his face, because if nothing else, at least he was handsome.

Who slept peacefully in a classroom on Sieun’s seat as if it was his right, not noticing the danger emerging towards him. Because alongside the whispers, came bravery after Sieun left. Gotak and Baku had left the classroom, just for a moment. Baku needed the toilet while a teacher had called Gotak, leaving Suho’s protection to Juntae. They hadn’t expected for anything to happen really. The aftermath of the fight with The Union seemed to have tamed things down somewhat, Sieun cementing himself as someone to be feared. And anyone with eyes could see Suho was important to Sieun.

A sound quieted down the classroom instantly. A book, harshly dropped onto Suho’s table, jerking him awake.

“Yah, cripple.”

A tired, bitter smile laced Suho’s lips at the words. Oh. He should have known. A school like Eunjang didn’t tolerate weakness, didn’t pity those at the bottom of the food chain. And now, golden boy Ahn Suho, who used to handle problems with ease, cocky smile ever present on his lips, top of the food chain, was now at the bottom of the barrel.

He looked weak. He looked easy to bully.

Suho looked up at the boys who approached his desk, three of them, the obvious leader of the pack in the middle, the one who had addressed Suho as a cripple just now. Suho knew what would come next, bullies ever so cliché. Nothing more than asking him to buy them cigarettes or asking for money.

Whispers increased as the leader leaned down, until he was at eyelevel with Suho, a move Suho was sure was meant to intimidate. But his ears were far too big for his face, sweat was trickling down his forehead and he just looked too fucking hilarious. Like a child playing pretend at being a gangster. A snort escaped Suho’s lips before he could help it.

A sound big ears didn’t like. Rage morphed his expression instantly, his fingers coming to grip Suho’s collar. His left arm, the one not holding on to Suho with an iron grip, wounded up; he was getting ready to hit Suho. Juntae’s eyes opened wide, as he scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t do anything much, not really. But at least he could try to hold them down, or if nothing else, take the beatings in Suho’s stead, at least until Gotak or Baku or Sieun came back.

But the person involved didn’t seem to sense the danger at all. He even leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, lips pulled into a mocking sneer. He was weak now, Suho couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t possibly take on any of these guys. But his ability to taunt? To piss others off without saying a single word? His pride? No one could take that from him. Even till the end, when he had been unfairly beaten into a coma, Suho had retained his pride. He’d be damned if he showed weakness now, towards a cartoon looking fool with big ears.

He’s just about to open his mouth, piss off big ears even more than he already was when the door swings open. Instantly, Suho’s expression changed, his lips pulled down in a pout immediately, eyes trembling, looking almost glassy. He looked pitiful, as if the one who was sneering just a literal second ago wasn’t him.

“Sieun-ah.” He whined, actually fucking whined, vocal cords that had been semi-damaged by his long sleep helping him to sound so aggrieved that even big ears paused for a moment.

And Sieun knew, knew that even if Suho could no longer fight like he used to, he wasn’t weak to the point of sounding so miserable because of a bunch of low-life idiots. But he didn’t care, didn’t register anything but Suho’s shirt still gripped in sweaty hands, a fist that was about to inflict hurt on him. Sieun’s mind swirled with thoughts in those few seconds of him standing by the door. One thought more persistent than the other.

Suho could die.

Suho could die.

He just came out of a coma, just clawed his way back to the world of the living. A butterfly landing against his head could trigger brain damage, not to mention a fist.

That fist could send Suho into another sleep.

This time, a sleep he might not wake up from.

Suho could die.

Sieun doesn’t register when he crossed the classroom, didn’t know how he managed to disentangle big ears from Suho. Didn’t realise it when he swung, fists raining down mercilessly. Unlike his usual style, unlike how he calculated the opponents every move; his actions this time were driven by pure rage. Sieun didn’t register when Gotak and Baku returned, each attempting to grab him, to separate him from the bloodied boy Sieun had somehow turned big ears into.

Pure white noise filled his ears, a beep sound that sounded suspiciously like the sound of a hospital’s ECG machine thrumming in his ears.

Because Suho could die.

That beep sound that signalled that he was alive, could flatline at any point. And Sieun needed to protect him. He needed to keep Suho safe; he needed to—

“Sieun-ah.” The beep sound stopped immediately, replaced by a thump, thump, thump.

A heartbeat.

Whose heartbeat?

“Come here.” A gravelly voice.

Ah. Suho’s heartbeat.

He was alive.

Sieun’s actions stopped immediately, Baku and Gotak felt it. His iron grip on big ears instantly went slack, he allowed himself to be pulled up. Shrugging their hands away, his feet instantly moved to where Suho’s voice came from. Suho had stood up at one point, fingers red where they gripped the cane.

Sieun’s eyes trailed up, from his fingers, to his face. Worried, anxious, and another expression Sieun was too muddleheaded to detect on Suho’s face.

“You’re not hurt.” Sieun phrases it as a statement. Because Suho wasn’t allowed to be hurt.

Suho doesn’t respond, just leans forward a bit, left hand trailing up to Sieun’s cheek, gently wiped off the blood that was too close to Sieun’s eyes.

Suho hadn’t expected this when he acted pitiful towards Sieun. Hadn’t expected his face to go slack, as if Sieun didn’t even register what he was doing. As if he was acting on pure instinct, his instinct to protect Suho. And Suho liked it more than he could explain, liked seeing Sieun fight for him. Liked seeing Sieun show everyone that Suho was special to him. He almost hadn’t wanted to put a stop to it. Not until he saw that Sieun was about to cross the line, and as much as he liked Sieun protecting him, Suho would never let him do that.

Besides, putting a stop to it was also another way for Suho to show them all who Sieun listened to. To show them that all it took was two words, just two, for Ahn Suho to control Yeon Sieun. For him to stop Sieun in a way Gotak and Baku didn’t manage to do.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” Suho finally speaks, a slight laugh escaping with his words.

Sieun closed his eyes, uncaring of the eyes that currently surrounded them, leaned into the palm stroking his face. Grasped onto Suho’s hand, felt the blood pumping, alive. He didn’t speak, just stood there, letting himself feel the blood pumping in Suho’s body, his entire body softened without him knowing.

He looked at peace, probably the most at peace anyone had ever seen him. And all because of the boy in front of him. Who touched his face like it was his right. And with the way Sieun indulged him, it clearly was his right. A right no one else had.

By the end of lunch time, almost the entire school were aware.

New boy Ahn Suho, who walked with a cane, sickly, weak, belonged to Yeon Sieun.

No one was allowed to touch him.

Chapter Text

Baku’s lips formed into a pout, “We’re sorry.” His words are followed with a bowed head, as if admitting defeat. Next to him, Gotak also glanced down – though he didn’t speak, he was also clearly sorry. Only Juntae looked between them, hesitant to speak.

They stood close to the gates of the school, Suho leaned against the wall, right hand gripping hard onto his cane and his left one placed gently on Sieun’s shoulder. In front of him stood Sieun, expression neutral, though the slight twitching of his fingers showed his mood at the moment; agitation. Students passed by them occasionally, curious glances directed mostly at Suho, the so-called rumoured white mamba’s tamer. Who had cement himself as someone incredibly special in just a single afternoon, the one who only needed to say one word to set Yeon Sieun off and only one word to calm him down too.

Sieun had managed to avoid punishment after his outburst; Suho had pulled out all the dramatics. How Sieun was only just trying to protect him, had “fallen” down while speaking to make the point that he was just so weak and Sieun was justified in his defence of him. Ultimately, big ears’ parents had let things go, even seemed relieved at Suho’s words. They later learned that his father was an aspiring politician and the last thing he needed was his son making trouble.

So they didn’t mind dusting the matter off; their bloodied son a small price to pay for securing a spot in politics.

Sieun had been left off with a warning and by the time things were concluded, it was already close to 4PM. Suho had waited, of course, sat outside near the principal’s office, alienation and indifference radiating off his body. Not at all like the weak look he presented earlier.

It was when they finally left the school, Sieun’s hands tight on Suho’s waist to guide him down the stairs that they saw the trio waiting for them at the gate. They stood in a line, almost comical in the way they looked like they were waiting to get scolded. Because they knew they had done wrong, underestimated just how vital Suho was to Sieun and Suho was almost bullied due to their negligence.

In the end, it was Suho who stopped Sieun when he attempted to walk by them at the gates. While he wanted Sieun to himself, Suho wasn’t at the point of isolating him from his friends. Besides, while he was deep in sleep, they were the ones who pieced Sieun back together. Jealousy was one thing, but Suho didn’t intend to be unreasonable.

“Baku, right?” Suho broke through the silence, his first words directed at Sieun’s friends. He watched Baku’s eyes widen slightly in disbelief.

“Sieun-ah, Baku said they’re sorry.” Suho shifted slightly, bending down until his chin fitted snuggly against Sieun’s shoulder. His breath tickled Sieun’s ear as he spoke, instantly dyeing it in a shade of strawberry red, but Sieun made no attempt to push him away.

“You could have been hurt.” Sieun’s tone came out impassively, with a chill that froze the air around them. “They promised to protect you.”

“Sieun-ah,” a laugh that tinged Sieun’s ears a deeper shade of red, “how could that big-eared guy possibly hurt hyung, hm? Hyung would’ve taken care of it. Don’t be angry.”

And it was true. Suho was not as agile as he used to, his muscles weakened. It would take a while for him to be at the strength he used to, would take months and even years of physio. Suho’s fight didn’t end just because he woke up. But it didn’t mean that he was so weak that he couldn’t defend himself from a school bully. How to avoid, dodge, defend themselves, the very things he once taught Sieun, Suho could do that too, muscle memory would’ve served him well.

“The hyung that whined my name and acted distressed?” Sieun’s words came out dripped with sarcasm, all of a sudden, his ire directed at Suho. “So you do know you could’ve protected yourself. Yet you sat there and allowed him to almost punch you?”

Fuck.

Suho knew Sieun would eventually bring that up, how he was ready to provoke big ears, allowing his cockiness to conquer the rational part of his brain.

“I was wrong.” Suho instantly admitted his mistake, disentangling himself from Sieun and shuffling to stand by Baku. He imitated Baku’s approach, dropping his head pitifully, even imated Baku's pout. Baku glanced at him from the corner of his eye, at this shameless guy who looked so aloof at the hospital before, unreachable. He couldn’t help the small snort that escaped from his mouth.

This was the Suho Sieun described to them; he seemed to have somehow gotten over his reservations towards them, though Baku didn’t know why.

And he wasn’t wrong. In fact, Suho had been awake at that time, after being in the dark hospital room for so long, he was more sensitive to light. So the minute the sun hit his face, Suho had stirred. He didn’t plan on pretending to be asleep, not till he felt movement around him, the sound of the shutters being lowered, a hand caressing his head slightly.

Sieun.

So Suho had continued to ‘sleep’, enjoying the attention Sieun lavished him. Had to stop himself from smiling when Sieun asked his friends to protect him, words laced with slight anxiety like he couldn’t bare to be away from Suho for even just five minutes. Had heard the assurance his friends gave Sieun. But what really got Suho to decide to at least be civil with them wasn’t the assurance, it was two words that Gotak had uttered.

“Your boy.” And Sieun didn’t deny it.

It made him feel giddy.

Your boy.

It made his head spin in a way that emerging out of the coma didn’t even do.

His.

It made his heart stagnate for just a moment, a millisecond, before he felt the familiar rush of his blood pumping, heart beating a mile a minute. Because of course—

Sieun’s.

Of course he belonged to Sieun, couldn’t belong to anyone else. And Gotak had realised that, and Sieun didn’t deny it. It was an acknowledgement that Suho was above anyone else in Sieun’s heart and that was all Suho wanted. For others to know, Sieun’s friends to know that he was special.

So Suho was finally willing to bridge the gap and Baku didn’t waste his efforts.

“Yah! Don’t stand next to me before he remembers why the hell he’s pissed off at me!” Baku whispered, though with only the five of them at the gates, they all could hear.

“You know he likes to stab people? If he goes after me do you think I can run? With a fucking cane?!” Suho also ‘whispered’ – next to Baku, Gotak laughed while Juntae stared between them with wide eyes, though a small smile was on his lips.

“You think you’re funny? Do you think he can bear to hurt you? He’d probably stab me twice as hard!”

“Suho-yah, you’re not allowed to be hurt so let Humin take your punishment for you.” Gotak joined in the conversation, voice lowered to an octave in an attempt to imitate Sieun.

Pfft.

Suho’s the first to laugh, head thrown back as his mind conjured up the image. Pleased because of the acknowledgement from Sieun’s friends. Baku joined in soon after, nudging Suho slightly with his elbow to shush him, just in case Sieun really decided to bring out a pen.

A light breeze swept over the five of them, ruffling Suho’s hair as he laughed, brown eyes sparkling with warmth. He laughed hard, boisterous, annoying, music to Sieun’s ears.

Radiant, full of life.

Sieun doesn’t respond, just shuffles until his right arm encircled Suho’s waist, like it was his right. He glanced down subtly at the elbow Baku had used to nudge Suho, his fingers gripped Suho’s waist with a little force, steering him away from Baku.

“Buy Suho food the rest of the week.” Sieun finally spoke, addressing the whole group.

That was his way of forgiving them.

In fact, Sieun had already forgiven them the minute Suho asked him not to be angry; he could never deny Suho anything he asked for. But food was the way to Suho’s heart after all, Sieun wanted to capitalise on the barrier that Suho had just poked, wanted to help further close the gap between Suho and his friends.

Then without another word, he walked forward, arm an iron grip on Suho’s waist, so that Suho barely used the cane. He seemed determined for Suho to rely solely on him. Gotak and Juntae followed.

Behind them, Baku stood for a moment, glancing at his elbow. He hadn’t missed the way Sieun looked at it, a look that although subtle, held a thousand words.

A grin settled on Park Humin’s face as he hurried to catch up to his friends.

Turns out Suho wasn’t the only possessive one.

Apparently even a simple elbow nudge to Ahn Suho couldn’t be tolerated by Yeon Sieun, if it wasn’t him doing it.

Chapter Text

“It hurts, right?” Sieun’s voice came out in a whisper so soft, it was almost drowned by the rain.

The weather seemed determined to act as it pleased; the feverish heat now completely simmered down to a biting spring chill. They’d split off from the trio near a ramen shop close to the school, slowly making their way towards the bus stop when a flash of thunder struck and rain came pouring down. Sieun, ever meticulous, didn’t even blink before he reached inside his bag, bringing out an umbrella big enough for two.

He'd checked the weather forecast before school and despite the claims of all day sun, Sieun wanted to be prepared just in case for Suho’s sake.

But then came the problem; he could no longer hold on to Suho’s waist to support his movements. Sieun’s arm never left Suho’s waist after they left the school gates, remained an iron grip through Baku’s relentless teasing. But someone had to hold the umbrella and there was no way in hell Sieun would give that job to Suho.

“No.” Suho’s answer came out in a wheeze that didn’t support his firm denial, grip on his cane so tight Sieun could see him slowly cutting off the blood circulation in his hands. Because of course it hurt.

It hurt so fucking much, but Suho would never admit it. Would never let Sieun know that underneath his trousers, his legs were shaking, his bones feeling like they were a second from shattering. That every once in a while, he wanted to ask them to stop, to rest for even just a second. But the bus stop was right there, so close to the ramen shop; the past Ahn Suho would’ve reached it in less than ten seconds.

It hurt too damn much. But his ego, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. Not even to Sieun.

Sieun pursed his lips, flickering his eyes downwards for a second before he raised them, looking up at Suho.

He traced the contours of his face, jaw clenched with the effort to keep himself afloat, slight sweat trickling down his face. He was a lot skinnier than he used to be, cheekbones prominent, a scar near his left eye. A reminder of how harshly he had been kicked while he was down. The doctors had told his grandmother that he was lucky, so lucky that all he got was a scar. Because that scar was close to his eyes, any closer and he could have lost an eye. Another trophy that the bullies could have gained from the wreck of his body.

He'd changed, not a shell of who he used to be like Suho thought, just the same Ahn Suho, bruised a bit due to circumstances he couldn’t control.

But still the same, beautiful Ahn Suho.

Sieun doesn’t say anything in the end. Just silently inches closer, umbrella tilted a bit more to Suho.

He couldn’t fight Suho’s insecurities for him, couldn’t reach into his mind and stop Suho from battling in his inner demons. That was a process that Suho would have to undergo himself. But he could buy him strawberry milk, hold onto his waist to guide him, be the person Suho rambled to.

Shelter him from the rain.

They make it back to Sieun’s apartment close to 7PM. Sieun never asked and Suho didn’t bring it up either, they just had an unspoken agreement that Suho would be sleeping over at Sieun’s place. And this wasn’t something unfamiliar to either of them, Sieun’s parents were never home and as much as Suho’s grandmother tried, she did need to rest after-all. So while Suho was recovering, Sieun would sometimes whisk him off to his for days at a time. Until one toothbrush in Sieun’s bathroom became two, Sieun’s spot on his bed shifted to the left side, close to the window, became their bed. His wardrobe housed some of Suho’s clothes, tucked side by side, Suho’s overly bright colours bringing some life into Suho’s plethora of grey items.

Suho switches on the light with ease once they’re inside, shuffles his way over to the couch and plops down, a groan of relief and pain intertwined escaping from his lips.

“I’ll get you water. It’s time for your meds.” Sieun makes an immediate beeline over to the kitchen, wet patch on his shoulder from the rain sticking to his skin but Sieun didn’t care about that little discomfort. If he or his grandmother didn’t remind him, Suho had a bad habit of forgetting to take his medication.

Suho watches him move around the kitchen in record speed, bringing out a pack of tablets from his own school bag because of course Sieun had Suho’s tablets stashed in his bag just in case Suho forgot them. Then he moves to stands in front of him, hands outstretched with the glass of water, a small smile on his lips as he waited patiently for Suho to take it.

Suho wasn’t the only one who’d changed in those long two years, Sieun did too. Still the same deadpan expression, the same big brown eyes, always watery for some odd reason. But his lips tilted upwards more, just like now, eyes didn’t try to hide his fondness whenever he looked at Suho. And he looked less tired too, as if he had finally abandoned the weight he was carrying on his shoulders.

And it pissed Suho off, more than he could say, that he wasn’t there to see Sieun’s change.

But then, Sieun would do this, smile at him in a way Suho hoped he never did to anyone else and all thoughts of anger, of jealousy, of sorrow that he didn’t get to see it would vanish instantly.

“You know you’re like a naggy wife?” Suho’s voice comes out as a laugh as he reached up to take the glass. His fingers grazed against Sieun’s, their eyes locked, just a millisecond. But it’s enough for Sieun’s pulse to spike, for his ears to tingle in that same feeling that he knew they were turning red. A feeling he was all too familiar with, that only ever happened around Suho, always because of Suho.

And he almost rolls his eyes at himself as he sits down, close enough that their knees touch. Because there was absolutely no reason for his heart to beat faster because his best friend touched his fingers. No reason for him to feel flustered at Suho’s words, his joking words.

So Sieun wills himself to calm down, watches Suho take his medication and places the empty cup on the coffee table before he finds his voice to respond, “then stop acting like a disobedient husband.”

Sieun regrets it immediately after. He had meant for it to come out in a joking tone too, to dispel some of the weirdness his heart felt at the way Suho’s knees rested gently against his, entirely too hot. But he saw it, in the way Suho widened his eyes, how he turned to look at him, it didn’t sound like a joke. Sounded anything but.

There’s silence after his words, suddenly so thick and heavy and Sieun’s just about to say something, anything to break it when Suho finally speaks.

“Sieun-ah, you didn’t deny it?” Suho’s tone comes out low, barely a whisper. “You’re my wife?”

He inches closer, even though Sieun was already sitting entirely too close anyway, fingers reaching up to rest on the grove of Sieun’s jaw.

“Hm? Say it?” Suho continues, voice dropping even lower, a timber so deep Sieun had to strain his ears to hear.

So fucking sexy.

Suho hated his voice, Sieun knew. Hated how gravelly it sounded, how damaged, more proof of how long he’d unwillingly slept. He found it grating, didn’t speak as much as he used to because of it.

Sieun couldn’t tell him how much he liked it. Gravelly, yes. But when he spoke to Sieun, uttered his name, voice coming out raspy, it scratched Sieun’s heart in a way he couldn’t explain, couldn’t admit. Heard it in his dreams once, Suho’s voice calling out his name as his hand grasped his throat, Sieun’s fingers tangled up in silken white sheets.

So fucking sexy.

Sieun had woken up with a boner and hadn’t been able to look at Suho properly for a week.

So hearing that voice now, the very one that made him weak, Suho deliberately stretching out his tone, eyes locked on to him, fingers pressing on his jaw now, just like the way they’d done in his dream, before they wrapped around his throat—

Sieun almost blacked out on the spot.

Like he was fleeing, though Sieun would never admit it, Sieun stood up, almost knocking over the glass on the table in the process.

“I’ll—” He cleared his throat, “I’ll go change.”

He doesn’t wait for Suho’s response, almost running in his attempt to be anywhere but here. Before he did something stupid, irreversible.

Behind him, he heard Suho’s chuckle, and still in that same fucking low tone like he knew it affected Sieun, he spoke.

“I didn’t deny it either by the way. Being your husband. Being yours.”

Chapter Text

“Sieun-ah, you don’t have to be so gentle. Promise I won’t break.”

The lights were turned down in Sieun’s room, leaving only the bedside lamp to illuminate the area, a gentle light source that wouldn’t irritate Suho’s eyes. Suho laid on the bed, phone discarded next to him and all attention on Sieun. By his feet sat Sieun, sleeves rolled up to his elbow and fingers glistening. The smell of almond, grapeseed and apricot permeated around the room, a gentle smell that reminded Suho of warm days spent deep in the forests of his hometown. Back when life was simpler.

His physiotherapist had recommended it, though he had stressed it wasn’t entirely necessary for him to do it every day, he’d recommend for Suho to massage his legs when possible. Suho had been half asleep that day, a particular rigorous session leaving him fatigued. But next to him, Sieun had brought out his phone, jotted down the list of recommended oils, asked Suho’s physiotherapist to show him basic techniques.

He showed up at Suho’s place after cram school the next day, white bag filled with various massage oils. “Because I don’t know what scent you’d like best.”

And Suho wasn’t expecting anything out of it, not really. Because Sieun had his own things to deal with and Suho certainly wouldn’t expect for him to massage his legs every night. But that was exactly what Sieun did; showed up at his house every single day, until his unsure movements slowly became sure. Till Suho picked out a favourite scent and Sieun’s technique got better. Till both their homes held bottles of massage oil for easy access. Sieun’s room alone had at least five.

“You were in pain today; I won’t hurt you further.” Sieun’s movements on his leg became even gentler as he spoke, a ticklish sensation heightened by the massage oil.

Suho smiled, though it was tinged with a touch of sadness, a fleeting emotion that he quickly tried to suppress. “Ah, you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed.” A pause, before Sieun moved higher, just at the base of Suho’s thigh, fingers deft but still gentle.

Suho didn’t reply, didn’t know how to. Because if he did, he’d have to tell Sieun how much he hated his own skin, down to his bones sometimes. Sometimes wished he could just go back to sleep for a while, wake up in a body that didn’t fail him. But admitting that would hurt Sieun, so Suho chose to keep quiet, eyes focused on the shadow of Sieun’s lashes. One, two, three – Suho counted, willed himself not to get into his own head too much, to focus just on Sieun.

Sieun also didn’t speak, too attuned to Suho to know he just wanted some quiet at that moment. So Sieun focused on his task, even as his fingers started to cramp. He was pretty adept by now at finding all the knots, working slowly to loosen them, smiled softly when he hears Suho’s sigh of relief. Sieun spends an entire 35 minutes on the massage before he finally felt satisfied, standing up briefly to wash his hands.

Returning to his room, he found Suho splayed out on the bed arms reaching towards him, “Done? Come.”

And on a normal day, this wouldn’t have given Sieun any pause. This was their usual routine these days; Sieun cuddled up next to Suho, working on his homework while Suho played with his phone. He didn’t really know when or how it happened, just that one day he took the initiative to sit next to Suho on the bed. Then sitting next to became inching closer, closer, until he found himself nestled against Suho’s side.

Then it simply became their routine, an unspoken agreement that Sieun’s place, even doing something mundane like homework, belonged tucked against Suho’s side. Sieun would never admit how much he liked it, the feeling of Suho’s body next to him, his hands absentmindedly tracing patterns on Sieun’s skin. It gave Sieun comfort, made his skin tingle wherever Suho touched.

So normally he wouldn’t have batted an eye, would have pretended he wasn’t eager as he moved to sit next to Suho. But tonight – Sieun didn’t understand why Suho’s words from earlier had to appear in his mind now.

“I didn’t deny it either by the way. Being your husband. Being yours.”

Despite how he appeared, Yeon Sieun wasn’t an idiot, nor as emotionally repressed as he presented. What he felt for Suho…he knew what it was. Came to terms with it a long time ago. But he had no idea what the hell Suho’s words were meant to mean. A confirmation that all the tangled feelings that Suho made him feel on a daily was mutual?

Sieun remained standing, a dazed look on his face, looking so soft, lovable.

Suho’s voice is fond when he speaks, “Sieun-ah. Is it because of what I said earlier?”

“You—” Sieun paused, not knowing exactly how to respond, how to voice that yes it was because of that; because Sieun liked it, more than he should. The idea of a future with Suho, married.

“Is it because I called you my wife? Because I can totally be your wife instead if that’s what bothers you.” Suho continued, eyes gleaming in the near darkness.

“I’d be a great housewife too, honestly. Cook you all your favourite food, bring it to you at work. You’d be that one successful CEO that never smiles until I come and all your employees would be so surprised because you smile the minute you see me. And they’d ask your PA or something and your PA would tell them, “That’s Mr Yeon’s wife, Yeon Suho.”

“Suho-yah.” Sieun giggled, actually giggled because the whole thing was ridiculous and yet a part of him liked it too damn much, “please stop watching those trashy dramas with your grandma. "Yeon Suho? You have my last name in this scenario?”

“Obviously? I’m your wife?”

“What if I decide to be a physician instead?”

“Then you’d be the head physician that never smiles until you see me.”

“A photographer?”

“The photographer that never smiles until he captures his favourite subject, his wife.”

“So I just never smile until I see you in all your scenarios?”

“Exactly.”

A sigh, “Suho—”

“Sieun-ah, baby, light of my life. Come here, hm? Your wife is cold.” Suho interrupted, tone stretched and voice low in the way he knew Sieun liked it. The effect is immediate, Sieun hadn’t expected that, Suho could see it in the way his eyes widened, his lips opened slightly, fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do. All signs that Yeon Sieun was flustered. His ears were probably a deep red underneath his hair too.

It's like a siren’s song, Suho’s voice, makes Sieun move his feet before his brain could register what he was doing. Delivered himself right into Suho’s open arms, pursed his lips when he heard Suho’s low chuckle but couldn’t say anything to defend himself. Could only pick up the homework book already placed on the bed and shamelessly tuck himself even further into Suho’s side.

He’s just getting engrossed in a particularly nasty equation when Suho’s voice breaks the silence.

“…Sieun-ah, about earlier.” Suho began, fingers on Sieun’s arm tightening just a bit.

“Tell me when you are hurt.” Sieun didn’t give him a chance to continue, knew Suho was about to deflect. “I’m…selfish about you, Suho. Everything you’re thinking, feeling, every little thing about you, I want to know.”

Don’t keep it in, don’t bottle things inside. Because once upon a time, you did that and I did that and look where that got us.

Suho remained silent for a while, before he finally sighed, turning his head to look at Sieun, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t say it for you to apologise.” Sieun placed down the book, turning his head to glance up at Suho, able to make out just the faintest of his features in the dark room.

“I just—it’s unfair, you know?”

“I know. You deserve a lot better and—”

“No, not me. Unfair for you.”

“…What?” Sieun moved impossibly closer, “For me?”

“You—you lost three people all at once, right? Me, Yeongi, B—” Suho couldn’t utter his name, tasted like poison on his tongue, “I know you had faith in him. Till the very end and he broke your faith and you had to deal with everything on your own. Who was there for you before you met your friends?

“Not knowing whether I’d live or die. Watching everyone who did it get off with a tap on their wrists. You must have felt so frustrated, useless. Who was there to tell you that it was okay to just be. You didn’t have to be angry or guilty or sad or even happy, if you didn’t want to. It was okay to just live, take life day by day.

“Who...” A sigh, “Who was there to pick you up after cram school?”

Oh. Sieun feels his eyes get a little hot and he has to bite his lips in an effort to stop the dam about to break. He’s talked a lot with Suho since he woke up, about the past, the tragedy that was their doomed friendship. Suho had read the texts too, had cried almost the entire day when he did, almost to the point of passing out. Sieun had to assure him over and over that he was fine now before Suho calmed down.

They’d also had this conversation before, about what Sieun did when Suho closed his eyes and didn’t open them again. And Suho had told him then that it wasn’t his fault. But this was the first time Suho said something like this, something so simple, but for some reason it hit Sieun the hardest. Because who was there to pick him up after cram school?

All the mundane things that Suho introduced to his life, late night drives and forced labour delivering chicken he had no business delivering. Going to restaurants after school, stuffing themselves full with meat, late night talks about nothing. Getting picked up after cram school, arms encircling Suho’s waist, lights streaking by as Suho drove, a moment of peace where Sieun could just be. Little things that Sieun didn’t realise he cherished so much until it was taken away. Sieun who felt like life was a dull grey, forcefully brightened and dyed a shade of red by Suho.

Sieun didn’t think, didn’t stop himself from moving until he sat straddled on Suho’s lap. He just suddenly wanted to get closer to Suho, sitting tucked next to him wasn’t enough. He briefly saw Suho’s surprised expression before he leaned forward, arms encircling Suho’s neck, burying his head deep into the grooves of Suho’s neck. He didn’t care about the sticky massage oil on Suho’s thighs, knew it’d stain his clothes. All that mattered was Suho’s scent, his pulse thundering against Sieun’s cheek; alive.

“You’re here now.” Sieun found his voice, managed to speak without bursting into tears.

He felt Suho chuckle, arms coming to wrap securely around his waist, “babe I can’t drive anymore.”

“Don’t care.” Sieun’s lips tickled against Suho’s skin as he spoke, “we’ll walk. Or take the bus. Just come.”

“You sure? I may be late sometimes, I’m not as fast as I used to be.”

“Don’t care.” Sieun repeated, “I’ll wait. Take your time.”

He waited for almost two years; a couple of hours was nothing.

“Yeah? But what if—”

“Ahn Suho. I said I don’t care.” Sieun mumbled, then he smiled briefly, eyes glinting because he knew his next words would make Suho’s mind up for him. “Or…I could always ask Juntae? Or Baku, or Gotak—"

The effect is immediate, Sieun felt it in how tighter Suho’s arms got, almost cutting off his circulation. “Give my responsibility to someone else? Are you looking for a beating?”

“Then make sure you come from now on. Fulfil your responsibility.”

“I will. Even if I have to crawl, hm? Promise.”

“Good.” Sieun answered, didn’t know what possessed him to leave a small peck on Suho’s neck, like a brand, like he was sealing the promise.

He only registers what he did when he felt Suho stiffen, the arms on his waist going slack all of a sudden.

Fuck.

“How’s…your legs?” A weak attempt to deflect how thick the air had gotten all of a sudden. To ignore the way his heart thumped so loud he knew Suho could feel it against his own skin. He was suddenly aware that their position was far too ambiguous. Now he could feel Suho through the thin shorts he was wearing.

“No deflecting.” Suho’s voice had turned low, too close to his ears. Sieun knew he had turned his heard to look at him. Slowly, he raised his head from the groove of Suho’s neck, not given a single chance to dodge as Suho grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him.

“The neck’s good too, but I want a proper kiss.” Suho continued, tapping his index finger on his lips, “right here.”

“…What?”

Sieun seriously doubted if this was one of his many dreams about Suho. It had to be. There was no other explanation for what was happening, the sure way Suho was asking for a kiss, as if it was normal. Did he not feel lightheaded? Dizzy the way Sieun was feeling? Did his heart not thump the way Sieun’s did? How could he sit there, so confident, eyes soft as he looked at Sieun.

“I’m waiting. You want it too, right?” Suho spoke when Sieun didn’t move, raising an eyebrow like he didn’t just ask Sieun to make a move that would change their friendship forever.

Suho wasn’t unaware of Sieun’s feelings for him; Sieun didn’t hide it, couldn’t if he tried. It leaked out in every action he made, the five bottles of massage oil in Sieun’s room, the almost feral way Sieun defended him, protected him. The way Sieun’s eyes always softened when it came to Suho, always for Suho.

The way he bought a bedside lamp the minute he figured out that the light irritated Suho’s eyes. Sieun never said, but Suho knew part of the reason he liked to stay tucked to him when he did his homework was because it was the only way for him to actually see, using the only light source in the room instead of turning on the main lights.

And it wasn’t like Suho wasn’t nervous. If Sieun wasn’t so muddleheaded at the moment, he’d have noticed how Suho’s fingers shook a bit, how much his pulse had spiked. But if there was one thing Suho learned from his unwilling sleep, it was that he had to seize each moment. There was no room for doubt, to second guess any of his actions, especially when it came to Sieun. Tomorrow wasn’t promised, Suho knew that well now. So if he wanted to kiss Sieun? He’d do it.

“Suho-yah.” A whine, Sieun actually whined. He didn’t try to deny Suho’s question. Just looked at him with those doe eyes of his, slightly tinged red from…ah, embarrassment. Suho understood why he whined. Sieun couldn’t do it, wanted Suho to make the first move.

So Suho did, no more teasing.

Grabbed Sieun’s neck the way he knew Sieun liked, leaned forward until their lips was just an inch away. He started with the lightest peck on Sieun’s cheek first, his eyes, felt his head spin from the moan that spilled from Sieun’s lips from just that. Then he ducked down, tongue darting, licking small stripes against Sieun’s bottom lip until Sieun finally opened his mouth.

Suho didn’t want their first kiss to be a peck, he wanted to ravage him, feel Sieun’s tongue against his own, almost blacked out from just the thought of it.

Another whine from Sieun, he was taking too long.

Suho’s fingers tightened unconsciously, felt Sieun’s pulse thunder against his fingers from the motion. He managed a small smile at the sound, used his free hand to grab Sieun’s thigh, inched him closer, fingers painting bruises on his skin before he finally, finally, gave them both what they wanted.

It didn’t start slow; Suho didn’t want that. He slipped his tongue inside, entangling Sieun’s with no ceremony. He sucked slightly, pushing in so deep, a string of saliva pooled, trailing down Sieun’s chin but Suho didn’t stop. He understood now, as he licked every inch of Sieun’s mouth, why people loved to kiss so much.

Neither of them was really experienced, Suho only ever kissed someone once before, a barely there peck that he forgot about almost instantly. It didn’t feel like this, didn’t make his blood rush until he felt dizzy. Occasionally, their teeth clashed, Sieun started to become more desperate, had settled his arms around Suho’s neck at some point, became active, clumsy but so endearing.

He unconsciously moved, ass grinding against Suho’s thigh, desperate to be closer, to feel more, more. Moans spilled from his throat, a sound Suho noticed he tried to suppress.

“Louder. Let me hear you.” Suho only pulled back long enough to say that, voice hoarser than usual, shooting straight into Sieun’s heart, before he plunged back in, rougher, more desperate now that he’d tasted Sieun already. His fingers pressed into Sieun’s skin, on his thighs, arms, everywhere he could reach.

“Mmm…”

Suho felt his head spin, Sieun’s moans became louder, just as Suho asked, ever so pliant and obedient when it came to Suho. His movements became bigger, bolder, his fingers traced the outline of the scar near Suho’s eye. Pulled back only to mouth near it, kissed the scar with a gentleness Sieun only ever showed to Suho before he inched downwards, planting chaste kisses against Suho’s neck.

“Fuck.” Sieun’s teeth came with no warning, biting down gently just near the pulse point before he darted his tongue out to lick it. Over and over again. He wanted it to bruise, Suho realised. Yet, Sieun’s movements remained gentle, like he couldn’t bear to hurt Suho, even now.

“Harder.” Suho bared his neck, giving Sieun easier access, “even if you draw blood, Sieun-ah, let me go to school tomorrow with your mark on me.”

He felt Sieun’s smile against his neck, before his teeth sunk, deep, harder just as Suho wanted. The thought of Suho’s neck bruised purple, not due to the kick of bullies, but by Sieun’s teeth, his love, made Sieun’s head spin. Made him vow in that moment that the only bruises that could ever appear on Suho’s skin must come from him.

“Mine.” Sieun didn’t stop the word from slipping past his lips, landing like a brand on Suho’s neck.

“Yours.” Suho replied instantly, pulling Sieun back to look him properly in the eyes, the orange light spilling from the lamp casting a soft glow on Sieun’s face. He looked flushed, hair a mess, lips tinged with the loveliest shade of strawberry red.

“Mine.” Sieun repeated, “Don’t leave me. Ever.”

Not again.

Suho didn’t answer, just smiled, soft and fond before he leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on Sieun’s lips. Sieun responded instantly, opening his mouth to give Suho easy access, putty in his hands as always.

Their second kiss is less desperate, soft, languid, slow; Suho’s answer to Sieun’s words.

I’m not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world.