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If you were to ask Cheongsan when it all started, he wouldn’t really be able to exactly pinpoint it. He would probably wonder if it had always been there, lurking in the unconscious part of his brain, lights dark, switched off, until something, something—, made them turn on at last, accompanying alarm sirens blaring off in the background.
What that something was, well, Cheongsan would probably never fully grasp, nor admit. Just thinking about it in the private space of his own mind was mortifying enough, honestly.
Still, one day happened that the warm brown tone of Onjo’s eyes were replaced, in the sanctity of his confused thoughts, by the darker hue of Suhyeok’s.
How, when, why—
Cheongsan wouldn’t know. He was the first one flabbergasted.
***
It begins slowly, silently, amping up with insidious thoughts bursting the serenity of his consciousness, like bubbles foaming up suddenly in a test tube. Cheongsan doesn’t notice it, or maybe a better part of himself pretends not to, until he has to physically sit up one winter cold night, shivering in his sheets, droplets of sweat beading on his forehead, and finally admits to himself that his every dreams and waking thoughts have been, for a while now, plagued by Suhyeok’s handsome face and deep voice.
Cheongsan groans frustratingly, and let his head hit the pillow several times, rumpling the covers with tense hands, as if to make the images his brain conjured up go away.
He’ll quickly discover though, dismayed, that realizing the reason of those confused thoughts and this unnerving infatuation won’t make it go away.
He wakes up the next day, spirit clarified with a newfound determination. If he can’t dismiss the budding attraction he apparently feels for Suhyeok, he’ll at least hide it as best as he possibly can. He’ll pretend everything’s fine, put a lid on those strange emotions, until they get snuffed out eventually. Without any new material to fill up the thirst starting up in his belly, the source will surely dry up.
This, at least, he can control.
Or so he thinks.
***
Several months later, the dull and sullen weather of the winter season has given way to clearer skies and warmer temperatures. Cheongsan’s predicament however, is still as strong as the first day it began, and his mood still as cloudy as the scenery was just weeks before.
Cheongsan is seating at his desk, trying to follow the lesson as much as he can when his exhausting brain is trying his best to stir his thoughts in another direction, when he feels his phone, concealed in his pocket, vibrate silently.
He checks it swiftly when the teacher turns towards the blackboard, and opens the group chat his friends have going on.
‘Sup, boys. We still on for that football game during lunch break ? — Gyeongsu ; 11 : 45.
Yup ! — Woojin ; 11 : 47.
You know it babe ;D — Daesu ; 11 : 49.
I’ll come but I won’t play, guys — Joonyeong ; 11 : 52.
Cheongsan is reading through all the answers when his phone lights up with a new notification, Suhyeok’s own response appearing on the screen.
You bet, dude. — Suhyeok ; 11 : 55.
Cheongsan’s fingers tap out his own reply before his brain has registered it.
Sure. See you out there. — Cheongsan ; 11 : 57.
His friends don’t need to know that in his mind, he’s answering only to somebody in particular. And that when he does, it’s to another, very different query he just came up with, cheeks turning a faint pink.
***
Lunchtime comes. The guys are out there in the grassy field, having all prepacked lunch for the occasion. They eat quickly, spread out on the ground, playfully stealing bites of everybody’s else food.
Cheongsan, not usually one to share that easily, lets Suhyeok scarf a good portion of the gimbab his mom made for him, with minimal whining. Gyeongsu watches them, not saying anything, his raised eyebrow and small smirk loud enough even among the others’ clueless noisy banter. Cheongsan ignores him, a mask of indifference plastered on his face, effect heavily dampened by his reddening ears.
Meal finished, they stand up excitedly, getting ready to play football, not deterred by the scorching and sweltering heat of that early May afternoon, while Joonyeong goes up to sit in the bleachers with a book on his lap.
They all undress down to their shirt, and Cheongsan cannot help throwing a sneaky glance towards Suhyeok, catching him with his arms raised, halfway through getting out of his forest green vest uniform. A small portion of his naked and toned waist peeks out, and Cheongsan turns around quickly, swallowing heavily, breath choking up in his throat. Sweat is already gathering on his forehead and they haven’t even started playing yet.
‘For fuck’s sake, get it together’, he hammers to himself mentally, annoyed by how easily seeing Suhyeok in any new capacity can overwhelm him immediately.
Suhyeok comes to him seconds later, an excited grin appearing on his face, floppy hair ruffled and three of his dress shirt’s buttons undone.
He suddenly frowns when he sees Cheongsan’s disheveled state, face already a deep burgundy.
‘You okay ?’, he asks, concerned, and Cheongsan, if possible, goes spiraling even more.
It’s truly unfair for Suhyeok to be this handsome, and this good, and so completely clueless to the effect he has on Cheongsan’s frazzled nerves.
Cheongsan steels himself, putting his best acting skills into work.
‘Yeah, ‘course. It’s just the heat’, he explains nonchalantly.
If only it was simply that. But it’s also and more importantly Suhyeok’s face, and his body, and the care and attention he throws around so freely, and honestly just his personality and character. Pretending everything is okay and that Cheongsan isn’t having a mini meltdown every time Suhyeok so much as glances his way is getting harder and harder each day that passes by.
Cheongsan really has to get a grip on all those fucking annoying emotions. Quickly.
***
Cheongsan is exhausted. The game has been over for a few hours and he just left his last lesson of the day, but his brain is still reeling from the exertion, strained both by the physical and mental gymnastics he had to endure today.
Vivid images of Suhyeok’s sunny smile, face glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, are still floating annoyingly at the surface of his consciousness, prickling his eyelids like a shoal of jellyfish, and coating his skin with a heavy layer of goosebumps.
Life’s truly been shot to hell since he discovered all those embarrassing and distracting new feelings towards Suhyeok, the worse being that he’s completely clueless in how to get rid of them for good.
He’s tried thinking about something else, anything else, with no success. His mind always find a way to circle back to Suhyeok, and his dark hair that seems so soft, his even darker eyes that look so warm, his smile that feels so gentle ; even when the guy isn’t around.
He tried doing the opposite : drowning himself in all those confusing emotions, really letting himself feel it, but all he accomplished in doing so is overwhelm himself even more, and create a new mortifying problem along the way.
See, his emotional breakthrough didn’t come alone to taunt him and make his life miserable.
No, he’s also troubled in another aspect, in a more physical and tangible way, a whole new ordeal that only reared its ugly head very recently.
To put it bluntly, he gets… aroused, way more often that he used to. Especially when Suhyeok is concerned, which is all the freaking time now.
If he’s being honest, Cheongsan is actually fine with fantasizing about another boy. He’s known about his — proclivities, for some time now, and while it wasn’t the easiest to digest at first, he mostly made his peace with the fact that he can and does look at girls and boys the same way.
Daydreaming about one of his closest friends, now, is a harder pill to swallow. Even more so when he has no doubt in mind that said boy is painfully and irremediably straight.
Cheongsan’s seen the way Suhyeok’s eyes tend to stray towards a certain class president, and even though getting a clear confirmation of his arising suspicions makes something slimy, dirty and ugly, shaped like jealousy and greed well up inside him, he cannot say he’s surprised.
The worst though, is probably realizing that he noticed so quickly because his own gaze cannot seem to tear away from Suhyeok himself.
So, getting horny feels like an out of body experience nowadays : he cannot reconcile his physical needs with what his brain is screaming at him ; how can something so unsettling and deeply wrong feel at the same time just so right ?
It feels like his entire mind is working against him, scrambling to make up more and more outlandish scenarios as the night progresses, and he wakes up in a cold sweat more times than not now. He cannot decipher if those are nightmares, wet dreams, or a weird middle ground made up of both. The only thing he knows for sure is that he wants it to end.
There are some nights, though. Some nights where he cannot seem to fight against the monster in him, and he succumbs to the new tendencies that have made a nest inside of his strung-out ribs.
When it happens, he let his feverish thoughts finally run free and his hands stray down below.
The complicated part is always the beginning, relinquishing the control he constantly keeps on a very tight leash, letting his inhibitions float away in the back of his mind, in order to finally focus on what he tries so desperately to ignore the rest of the time.
It usually occurs at night, in the bathroom, when his parents are already in bed.
Cheongsan goes in to shower, and he can almost pretend that’s all he plans to do.
The bathroom becomes both his safe place and purgatory, the only room where he can let his impulses take over. His eyes focus on the off-white color of the shower tiles, while his hand creep down between his legs. Throughout, he always makes it a point to not glance downward, to not stray his gaze apart from the tiles, face oriented towards the shower head. This way, his brain suggests, it almost feel like the deed isn’t done. A smaller part whispers darkly that it almost feels like somebody’s else hand caressing him instead of his, but he rejects the thought at once.
It probably doesn’t compare anyways, but he can pretend, for a while.
It’s a quiet affair, sounds muffled by the water pelting the cubicle, up until the very end.
When he comes, Suhyeok’s name on his lips, it all blends seamlessly on the walls for a second, then gets immediately washed it away. It’s as if nothing happened. His mind and body, habitually highly strung, ease at last.
It’s never enough, though.
***
Obviously, he’s doing something wrong. He has to think strategically, put his feelings aside, and reflects on what to do to finally silence those thoughts plaguing him, turning his life upside down, assaulting every moment of his god-forsaken existence.
The answer is pretty clear, written in plain, bold letters in his mind. He has known for a while to be honest, but consciously chose not going down that path, not until it was completely necessary, not until it was the only option left.
And it finally is.
Since he cannot bear it, he has to rewrite the equation, push the wild variable that is Suhyeok away.
Pretending simply doesn’t cut it anymore. As much as Cheongsan doesn’t want to, maybe completely ignoring him will.
Cheongsan starts small, little things here and there that don’t mean much as they are, but paint a clear picture when added up.
First, he stops seating next to Suhyeok during lunch, when he always made a point to do so before. Suhyeok doesn’t seem to notice the first time, but does send him a questioning glance, eyebrows raised, that verges on hurt when it becomes a recurring act. Cheongsan answers with a quick smile, and launches into conversation with Gyeongsu immediately, not giving Suhyeok a chance to comment. Gyeongsu doesn’t say anything, but Cheongsan can feel his disapproving stare hovering above his lowered head.
It’s better to ignore it, he thinks, really trying to hammer it home. You just have to bear it for a while. He’ll get the message soon enough.
Then, he chooses somebody else for group projects. He turns towards Gyeongsu or Onjo instead, or well, anybody really. He ignores their look of incomprehension, the pained inflection of Suhyeok’s voice demanding what’s wrong, and just mutters some flimsy excuse that sounds more like a rebuttal.
Cheongsan doesn’t play football with the others as much as he used to as well. He figures that withdrawing from any temptation that could arise is probably for the best, since just catching a glimpse of Suhyeok’s face glinting with fresh sweat is enough to make the pit of yearning and longing in his stomach expends like a freaking black hole.
‘I don’t feel that well guys, I’ll sit this one out’, he tells the others, and goes up to join Joonyeong in the bleachers, ignoring their sounds of protest.
When he sits down, Joonyeong diverts his eyes from his book for a minute, appraising him quickly, and offers him some of the snacks he brought with him without a word.
Cheongsan takes it for the truce offer that it is, nodding thankfully, grateful both for the food and Joonyeong’s unbothered attitude.
If there is somebody out there that won’t give him shit for how suspicious and out of character he’s been acting, it’s definitely him. Joonyeong is also one of his only friends not trying desperately to find out what’s going on with him, and Cheongsan feels a deep surge of affection for the other boy engulf him suddenly.
***
Cheongsan’s exiting the gymnasium bathroom when Suhyeok abruptly corners him at the entrance, breathing unsteady. The game must have just ended. Cheongsan doesn’t know how to digest the fact that Suhyeok probably ran to catch up with him when he saw him leave the stadium.
Suhyeok takes a deep breath, eyes peering deeply into Cheongsan’s own gaze, and goes :
‘Why are you avoiding me ?’
Cheongsan freezes. It’s probably pretty dumb, but in his mind, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that Suhyeok would put up a fight and demand answers. He figured out that yes, of course, he would be confused and wonder what the hell was going on, but not to the extent of actually confronting him on his bullshit.
‘I… I’m not, I…’, he stammers pathetically.
It’s… not going on as expected. Like he hoped it would. It’s a mess, actually.
‘Yes, you are.’, Suhyeok answers quizzically. ‘And I think I deserve to know why. Did I do something ?’
Cheongsan’s brain blanks.
‘I…No, of course no, I… I need to go, talk to you later.’, he mumbles quickly, readying himself to just plainly run away, confidence and self-respect in shambles.
Suhyeok’s firm hand on his wrist makes him stop and turn around. Suhyeok’s gaze flickers, bottom lip worried between his teeth.
‘Cheongsan, I…’, he starts.
Cheongsan doesn’t let him finish. He can’t.
‘I’m sorry Suhyeok, I really need to go.’, he forces out, detaching himself from Suhyeok’s warm hold, before fleeing.
***
Cheongsan’s coming back from school with Onjo days later when she suddenly stops him, a hand pressed on his forearm, right when he’s about to open the door of his apartment.
She sights deeply, gaze focused and determined, face set in that same way it does when she’s confronted to an issue she has to solve. Cheongsan braces himself.
‘What’s going on between you and Suhyeok ?’, she asks, tone accusative, arms crossed against her chest.
Here it goes.
‘Nothing much.’
Lie.
‘Why do you wanna know ?’, he answers, putting on a nonchalant front. He can still hear some of the worry he feels bleed through his tone. He hopes he’s the only one who did.
‘You’ve just been so weird lately. I mean, weirder than usual. And like, only towards Suhyeok. Everybody’s noticed.’, Onjo lauches reproachfully.
Cheongsan doesn’t react. His face feels like smothered with plaster, his body filled up with lead.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Onjo huffs.
‘Sure you don’t. You two had a fight ?’
‘Of course no. Why would we ?’, Cheongsan answers. They would have to talk in order to have a fight anyways, he thinks wryly.
‘I don’t know Cheongsan ! You tell me.’, Onjo exclaims resentfully, eyes rolling back so far deep they seem to disappear for a brief instant.
‘Nothing’s going on Onjo, okay ?’, he responds, irritation starting to peek through. ‘How many times do I need to repeat it ? To you, to Gyeongsu, to the others ? Everything’s fine for fuck sake !’
Cheongsan doesn’t let Onjo reacts, sure that she would kick his ass after his outburst, and opens the door of his flat quickly, letting it slam behind him. He leans on it for a quick second, catching his breath, regret and guilt immediately gnawing at him for having snapped at Onjo for no reason. Well. Not really no reason, he corrects. But he’s getting tired of people trying to decipher his behavior by all means necessary. He just wants to be left alone to handle his displaced feelings by himself, thank you very much. It won’t easily happen as long as he’s being bugged for literally anything by literally anyone, and besides, if there’s someone that desperately want things to go back to normal, heck, that’s him, without a shadow of a doubt.
It downs on him, after having finally entered the comforting space of his own room, how he didn’t notice up until now that he completely stopped thinking about Onjo.
He cannot help but also remark how lying has come to be second nature for him nowadays.
Cheongsan isn’t sure he likes who he’s slowly turning into. Worse, he isn’t sure he can go back to who he used to be.
***
Cheongsan just got in bed, freshly showered, when his phone pings with a new notification. He checks it, and sure enough, Suhyeok’s name taunts him, stark black letters on a pure white background.
Hey. You okay ? — Lee Suhyeok (Bare-su) ; 22:03.
Cheongsan frowns. A small part of himself is tempted to just ignore it.
He answers.
Sure. Why wouldn’t I be ? — Me ; 22:05.
His phone pings again.
Dunno. You seem pretty distant lately, and I guess I just wondered if something was going on, is all. You clearly avoided me last time, as well. — Lee Suhyeok (Bare-su) ; 22:09.
Cheongsan swallows around the lump lodged deeply in his throat, phone held tightly between his trembling fingers. He doesn’t have the time to formulate any explanation before his phone starts vibrating.
He takes the call, and Suhyeok’s rich tone greets him almost immediately, voice pitched low.
‘Hey Sannie. You know you can talk to me about anything right ?’, Suhyeok starts, voice getting progressively softer, as if not to spook a startled animal. ‘Whatever’s happening, I’m always here to listen or whatever, you know that ?’
Cheongsan forcefully closes his eyes before opening them again, bursts of light dancing in front of him. He clears his throat.
‘I know Bare-su. Nothing’s going on. I’m just tired, I’ll go back to normal soon, you’ll see. You don’t need to worry.’
Lie. Lie. Lie.
Nothing’s fine anymore, and normalcy seems so far away, faded like a memory he creeped over a long time ago. Still, what can he do except pretending ? He’s getting frighteningly good at it nowadays, or at least that’s what he thought until now.
Cheongsan hears Suhyeok’s deep sigh across the phone.
‘Okay.’, he says, tone dejected and definitely unconvinced. ‘Just know that whatever’s happening, if something is, you can always come to me. I’ll always be there for you, okay ?’
He lets out an humorless giggle.
‘That’s what friends are for, right ?’
Cheongsan chokes up, hand immediately coming up to his mouth to muffle the sound.
Friends. He has no interest in being friends. Not anymore. Not when he longs for so much more now.
‘Yeah, sure’, he mumbles, tears beginning to prickle at his eyelids. ‘’Night Bare-su. I’ll see you around’, he finishes, and ends the call, not waiting to hear Suhyeok’s answer.
He turns off the lights, tucks himself into bed, and let the tears flow freely down his cheeks, sobs rattling his body, putting one fist inside his mouth to muffle the progressively louder wretched sounds of pain and grief. He’s so tired. So sick of it.
That night is the first he cries about it. He wonders distantly how long he’ll be able to take it before he finally breaks.
***
One month later, Cheongsan is seating in class, listening to Mrs Park babblering something in english. She suddenly stops her explanation, and starts chastising Suhyeok for not following the lesson.
Cheongsan chances a glance towards him when she’s done, which Suhyeok responds to with a quick, embarrassed smile, wobbly at the edges, and a nervous hand buried in his deep dark hair.
Suddenly, shouts can be heard in front of him, and Cheongsan is taken out of his reverie, until then staring intently, as if entranced, at Suhyeok’s handsome profile. It’s been so long since he let himself just look. It’s exhilarating. It’s the best. It’s the worst.
Cheongsan shakes himself off.
Hyeonju is standing, quaky and confused at the doorstep.
If the stupefied cries of Mrs Park and some of the girls seating at the front row aren’t already pretty telling, Hyeonju’s state is more than proof enough that something terrible has happened. She looks awful, bruises scattered across her face and arms, blood oozing out from the deeper and nastier cuts littered around.
She advances, eyes glassy and unfocused, and gurgles something about the science teacher before passing out on the floor, limbs flailing around.
Cheongsan and the majority of the class stay frozen to the spot, stupefied, while Mrs Park, Onjo, Isak and Suhyeok immediately come closer to Hyeonju, checking for a pulse and examining the rest of the girl’s body. They suddenly stand up when Hyeonju seems to slowly wake up, muttering, and in one quick movement, they’re out the door, Suhyeok carrying Hyeonju on his back, the girls flanking him on both sides.
Cheongsan is mystified.
Slowly though, something like guilt and annoyance start to seep through his veins, and he pinches his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing.
It’s no surprise that Onjo and Suhyeok jumped at the first occasion to do something both selfless and maybe a bit reckless, seeing Hyeonju’s poor state and how it probably came to be, and Cheongsan should really have known better than to expect anything else from them. Isak joined in as well, always there to support her best friend in whatever endeavor Onjo would put herself through, and what does that say about Cheongsan ?
He stayed rooted to his chair, unmoving, and now he feels so thrown out of the loop. He doesn’t like it one bit, and he cannot stand the helpless feeling slowly overwhelming him. His heart sinks a little, worry for his friends, and especially for that tall moron that cannot seem to abandon his every waking thoughts, gnawing at him. He can’t shake the sinking feeling that something is going terribly wrong.
In the nurse room, pandemonium starts in the shape of a bloodied girl.