7:47pm, Friday, Kim Sunwoo—as per usual, as if he is simply coded that way—shows up to his surprise party seventeen minutes late. Exciting cheers welcome the birthday-boy when he steps through the doors, and whoever flinches the most between him and Hyunjae is unknown—Hyunjae however, does manage to spill some of his drink onto the floor. At least it's a rooftop terrace, it won't matter that much.

Hyunjae pulls at the collar of his shirt, as he nervously glances across the party. He checked his phone probably a million times already, it is very unlike Jacob to be running late. The last message was sent about an hour ago, with Jacob saying he was on his way. Hopefully he'll show up before Juyeon. Hyunjae waits by the bar, fingers tapping against the countertop, and while Seoyeon is ecstatic that Sunwoo didn't suspect a thing about the surprirse party, Hyunjae can't help but frown, when he sees Kim Younghoon standing a few feet away.

Kim Younghoon, who Hyunjae has yet to have an actual conversation with, despite the two of them knowing each other for years by now. Not that Hyunjae is counting, he'd much rather count the time he doesn't have to look at Younghoon's stupid, smug face. But, the presence of possibly the biggest fuckboy in all of Seoul, still manages to fade in comparison to the anxiety sitting in Hyunjae's chest.

He empties another drink, hangs out with Seoyeon and his other friends from uni, congratulates a still shocked Sunwoo, cheers, another drink in hand. Pretends to be just fine.

"I still can't believe Younghoon would do this for us!" Stars sparkle in Seoyeon's eyes, as she yanks the sleeve of Hyunjae's shirt to get his attention.

"Me neither," Hyunjae mumbles back, lips at the edge of his glass—eyes glaring towards Younghoon. Their eyes meet and Hyunjae has lost count on how many times it has happened by now. Younghoon glares back at him, making Hyunjae question why Younghoon even offered to arrange this party, as it appears that he doesn't want Hyunjae to be there at all.

"You guys must be really good friends, how come I've never heard of him?"

"Oh, I-" Hyunjae pauses. "Right. I... Must have... Forgotten."

There is no need to lie, but there's no need to make things awkward either. Not tonight, at least. He smiles politely, and excuses himself to go mingle. It's another lie, Hyunjae has no real interest in mingling with anyone tonight—he just wants to get the party over and done with, then go home and hide in his bed. Preferably before Juyeon shows up.

Five minutes later, back at the bar; another drink in hand. Something yellow, possibly passionfruit. Hyunjae doesn't really know, and it doesn't really matter either—as long as it has vodka in it. With blurry eyes he looks at the city below, from the 21st floor. The view is, right as Younghoon advertised, spectacular, from the top of the AC Hotel in Gangnam.

Hyunjae watches the ever busy roads below. So many people in this world, in this city alone, and still, here he is. All alone, pining over someone who doesn't even care about him. And Hyunjae shouldn't care either. Shouldn't feel so nervous about seeing Juyeon tonight that he could throw up onto his own shoes. Shouldn't have spent hours frantically trying to pick out an outfit. In the end he settled with a white shirt, checkered blazer and dark pants—the blazer is already left forgotten somewhere, on one of the chairs.

The music blasts from the speakers, blends with the buzzing from people talking. It's just one big noise of nothing in Hyunjae's ears. He's drunk, definitely, beyond the limits of his usual self-control. And he feels lonely, much more than ever before.

As he turns around, possibly too fast, or too drunkenly—it's really unclear—he bumps into something. Or someone. He spills his drink, it's like he can see it happening in slow-motion, but he can't stop it. It splashes all over his white shirt.

"Shit, I-I'm so-sorry!" Hyunjae stutters, despite his own shirt being the only casualty.

It's Younghoon standing in front of him, of course it is, and Hyunjae's surprise is quickly replaced with annoyance. Younghoon looks surprised as well. Apologetic, even. Hyunjae doesn't really care.

"Here, let me help you."

"I don't need your help." Hyunjae replies, ignoring the hand that reaches out towards him. "Where's the bathroom?"

"You're just going to splash some water on it?" Younghoon sounds annoyed now as well, Hyunjae probably deserves that. "That's not going to help. You need to soak that shit off."

"Thanks, mom, I think I can handle a stain," Hyunjae sneers, not intending to, it just happens to come out from his lips like that. It's the Kim Younghoon effect. Kim Younghoon, who still follows Hyunjae through the crowd, despite Hyunjae trying to both ignore and shake him off. "Jesus, what do you want?"

"Wow, what's with the attitude, man?" Younghoon scoffs, one thick brow raised when Hyunjae turns to look at him again.

And Hyunjae doesn't have an answer to that. Not besides the fact that they've never had a conversation this long before—and he would have preferred it to stay that way.

Younghoon just stares at him; unreadable look on his face. Dark hair parted in the middle, all black outfit, golden jewelry. Younghoon, with all his k-drama actor features, his long legs and ever so perfect hair. His piercing stare and his absolutely rotten personality. Hyunjae has wondered many times how Juyeon ended up being friends with someone like him. But now, he doesn't wonder anymore. Younghoon and Juyeon, both handsome beyond words. Both are completely careless about other people's feelings.

"Come with me, I have a shirt you can borrow." Younghoon suddenly says.

"What? Where?"

"Downstairs. I have a room rented."

It's an easy solution, a nice offer, had it not been coming from Younghoon. Hyunjae bites his lip, not interested in Younghoon's help, but not interested in running into Juyeon with a big yellow stain on his shirt either. He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Of course you do..."

"Follow me," Younghoon says, as he has mistaken Hyunjae's snarky tone as a yes. "I'll have the hotel staff clean it for you, and send it to your place when it's done. Don't worry about it."

"Fine." It must be the alcohol speaking, it surely isn't the clever part of Hyunjae's brain that comes up with that answer. He follows Younghoon to the elevator, shocked by his own decision, and practically presses himself against the opposite side of the elevator—away from Younghoon, who sends him an obvious side-eye.

None of them speak, when they walk down the hallway of the hotel. It takes less than two minutes to reach Younghoon's room, but it feels like forever in Hyunjae's head. His hands feel clammy, clenched at his thighs as he walks.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" he suddenly blabbers—a cocktail of the pressure coming from awkward silence and too much vodka.

"What?" Younghoon swipes his keycard, only a brief look over his shoulder, before he shakes his head. "You're so fucking weird."

They leave their shoes inside by the door, and Hyunjae chooses to stay silent again. The room is big, bigger than his own apartment. Wooden floors, white walls and all gray furniture. A lounge area, and even what appears to be a small bar.

"This is bigger than my apartment..." Hyunjae mumbles, intended for only him to hear, but it escapes and lands on Younghoon as well.

"I'm not surprised," Younghoon says, unfazed, pulling a shirt from the closet by the bed. "Here, you can wear this. Give me the other one."

Hyunjae takes the shirt from Younghoon's hands, but then he freezes. Nervously he bites his lip, staring at the shirt—the brand tag in the collar is staring back at him. This piece of fabric has possibly cost what Hyunjae pays for one month's rent. Or more, even. Something else then dawns upon him, and that is the fact that he is about to undress himself in front of Kim Younghoon. Hyunjae hesitates...

"What? You want me to leave the room?" It's a mocking tone that comes from Younghoon, not that Hyunjae is surprised. He replies with a simple shrug of his shoulders, and Younghoon scoffs, heavily—fingers diving through his dark hair. "Whatever. I'll go make us a drink. Try not to spill on this one, it's Valentino."

"Yes, I know how to read," Hyunjae hisses, fingers playing with the tag, but turns his back before he can catch a glimpse of Younghoon's face.

It only takes a few seconds, from the last button being unbuttoned, for Hyunjae to pull his shirt off his shoulders and replace it with Younghoon's. He buttons it, fast , his shaking fingers tangling together. The fabric feels nice against his skin, he won't try to deny that. Soothing, even. It must be pure silk, Hyunjae thinks. As he buttons the shirt, he hears Younghoon talk over the phone, from the opposite end of the hotel room.

"Give me your shirt, they're sending one from the staff to get it now." Younghoon suddenly stands way too close, surprising Hyunjae who turns around with wide eyes and sweat at the back of his neck. "Come, you can watch me mix your drink, so you can make sure I'm not trying to poison you."

"Funny," Hyunjae grumbles, but he does follow Younghoon through what most definitely isn't just a hotel room. It's a whole freaking suite.

Silence again, while Hyunjae watches Younghoon mix two drinks for them. Sleeves rolled up and muscles tensed as he shakes the cocktail shaker, eyes narrowed down. He almost looks sexy like that. Almost . Hyunjae feels sick, as the absurd thought pops unannounced into his head.

"Oh, be right back." Younghoon has barely finished pouring the drinks, when there's a knock on the door. He grabs Hyunjae's stained shirt, and disappears into the hallway of the suite.

"Thanks, for letting me borrow this." It's not easy to say, but it has to be said. Hyunjae's teeth clench the second he has spoken. Younghoon is back, sliding one of the drinks towards Hyunjae. It's red, no surprise. "Maybe we should head back upstairs... To the party..."

"Right." Younghoon nods. "Let's cheer first though?"

Hyunjae accepts and raises his glass. Younghoon has been rather nice towards him, after all.

"So, you and Juyeon?"

Hyunjae nearly chokes on his drink, feeling like he is drowning, while trying to swallow—and for the love of God, not spill on Younghoon's designer shirt.

"W-what? What do you mean?"

"You've been friends for quite a while, haven't you?" Younghoon smirks, as he slowly makes his way to sit down on the gray sofa. "You must be thrilled that he is finally dating someone."

"... What?" A punch to his stomach, all air disappears from his lungs. Hyunjae stares, afraid to even blink. Stares at Younghoon in disbelief. His skin crawls, burns. Younghoon would never know whatever has happened between Hyunjae and Juyeon before, right? They've been so subtle about it, Hyunjae believes. Or, Juyeon has.

But if it isn't what Younghoon is referring to, then it must be... No.... It's a lie. It has to be a lie.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Youngoon calmly says—as easily reading Hyunjae's blank stare, as he sips his drink. "Met him earlier today, with his date. Guess that's why he couldn't come tonight."

Younghoon looks way too calm, taking slow sips of his drink, slouching on the sofa, while his dark eyes burn into Hyunjae's. But why shouldn't he be calm? He only knows Hyunjae and Juyeon as being friends. Hyunjae tries to swallow a lump in his throat, he has to act normal. He has to. But he can't. Everything is breaking inside of him, falling apart in sharp pieces.

"You must be mistaken," he whispers. Everything is spinning around him, his heart is in his throat, about to explode. Eyes blur, but he feels more sober than he has the last few hours. It's tears, fucking stupid tears blocking his sight. But he can't let them fall. Not in front of Younghoon.

"Believe me, I am just as surprised as you."

"Are you just making shit up now? It's not funny, Younghoon."

"Why would I? I mean, what could I possibly gain from lying about this?"

Younghoon is lying, he simply must be. Out of breath, Hyunjae can feel every beat of his heart pounding in his chest. It hurts. Everything hurts. Is it really true? Is this the reason Juyeon hasn't tried to contact Hyunjae at all? Has he moved on, completely? The questions pile up, as Hyunjae falls apart.

"I-I didn't know... I mean, he... Didn't tell me..." Staggering, Hyunjae moves to sit down on the sofa. On the very edge of it, away from Younghoon, of course. The pain spreads, fills his chest, hurts so bad Hyunjae wants to tear his skin open and rip his heart out. "Is it... That girl from his workplace? Jiwon?"

He does ask, but he doesn't really want to know.

"Oh , you really don't know?"

The sofa bounces slightly, an unfamiliar warmth sneaks up on Hyunjae, gently rubs against his arm. But he doesn't move. He can't. A clank against the table in front of him, his eyes widen up, and everything hurts even more than before.

On the screen of Younghoon's phone is a picture, one that burns into Hyunjae's eyes, one he wishes he had never seen. Confused, shocked Hyunjae doesn't even question why Younghoon has that photo on his phone. Because there he is, Juyeon. Beautiful, wonderful Juyeon. Arms wrapped tightly around another person, lips leaving a kiss on the stranger's forehead—someone that isn't Hyunjae. And someone, who isn't a girl.

"I think we are both well aware that Juyeon is into guys." Kim Younghoon used to be nothing but an annoying buzz in Hyunjae's ears, but now his voice is crystal clear.

"They... They could be... Friends..." Every word that leaves Hyunjae's lips becomes weaker and weaker, his voice only a struggling whisper at the end. Nails dig into the fabric of the sofa, trembling hands and teary eyes show that Hyunjae definitely doesn't believe his own words.

"Forget about him." About to take his phone back, Younghoon leans across Hyunjae. "He's a waste of your time anyway."

Younghoon's cologne is overwhelming, filling Hyunjae's lungs. It smells exactly, as Younghoon should, of arrogance and wealth—decadence in a world so different from Hyunjae's. Younghoon keeps looking at Hyunjae, demanding him, without words, to look back at him. Suddenly Hyunjae understands all the girls who swoon over the bored rich-kid next to him. Kim Younghoon has a dominating stare, one that swallows you whole, but also one that lets you believe you're the most special person in the entire world. It doesn't matter if that isn't the truth, nothing matters at that moment.

"You've buttoned it all wrong." A fingertip suddenly brushes across the button at Hyunjae's chest, and he flinches, while Younghoon's deep voice rings in his ears.

"I-I guess..." he mumbles, as he looks down. Younghoon is right, Hyunjae messed up halfway down.

"Let me help you."

And Hyunjae lets him, no questions asked, lets Younghoon lean in and unbutton the first two. Soft fingers stroke across warm skin, eyes of fire ready to burn whoever dares coming too close. His hair fall over his eyes, but even then, he keeps looking at Hyunjae through the dark locks. Hyunjae feels his hands tremble, hot breath stuck in his throat. Younghoon stops, leaves the last buttons, and slowly he moves closer.

"Let me help you, Hyunjae," he whispers. Warm breath against Hyunjae's neck.

Younghoon is spoiled, he is selfish and he is arrogant.

But, he is also undeniably hot.

Sleeping with someone like him would be so stupid.

But Hyunjae is so, so drunk—and so, so stupid.

And Younghoon is so, so, so fucking hot.

Who kisses who first, is left in a blur, but nonetheless—it happens. Lips against lips, almost violent, deadly desperate for someone who isn't the one they're actually kissing. Heavy pants and whiny moans exchange on wet tongues. Hyunjae's head is spinning, and his skin tickles when Younghoon's hands roam across it.

The sofa bounces lightly when Hyunjae falls back onto it. Hands under his shirt, touching so greedily, as expected of Kim Younghoon. There is no fighting for dominance in the kiss, it's given to Younghoon right away. His tongue fills Hyunjae's mouth, swirling around, as it wants to taste every part of him.

"I-I like girls..." Hyunjae is heaving for air, choking on the lie he forces out between his teeth. He doesn't know why he lies. There is no reason for him to, no pride to fake, it all went down the drain the second he let Younghoon press him against the sofa cushions.

"So do I?" Younghoon chuckles, lips sucking down Hyunjae's neck. "But that doesn't mean I can't fuck you until you can't walk."

Logic. Hyunjae can't really argue with that.

Lips crash together again, wet and open, Younghoon sucks Hyunjae's lower lip between his own, slips his tongue back into Hyunjae's mouth. Everything feels so wrong, but so right at the same time. So good, too good.

Hyunjae lets Younghoon swallow all the moans earned by his aggressive kisses. His fingers dive through the perfectly styled, dark hair. Over and over, pulling it slightly, as Hyunjae gasps into Younghoon's mouth. Their bodies are so close to each other, Hyunjae can feel everything.

"So?" Younghoon's brows arches, as he suddenly pulls away. A tilt of his head, his messy bangs follow, shadowing over his eyes, but Hyunjae sees the fire staring back at him. Struggling to push himself up, until he sits up with Younghoon positioned between his legs, Hyunjae feels heavy but weightless at the same time.

He is ready to get burned. They both are.

One button, two buttons. Three, four. Ivory silk slips down his shoulders, pools at his elbows. One fingertip, two, three, four, drawn across his skin. Warm breath against his neck, Younghoon's lips following, and Hyunjae softly moans.

"Not bad," Younghoon smirks, stroking one finger along Hyunjae's chest, admiring the sight. "But you'd look even better with my cock in your mouth."

Fuck, why is this shit even working on Hyunjae?

The last rational thought in Hyunjae's mind flies away, the moment he moves to sit on the floor. His hands reach out, stroke up Younghoon's thighs, making him groan. Slowly, Hyunjae zips down Younghoon's pants and gently drags them off. Underwear as well, at the same time.

Hyunjae gulps, with wide eyes he stares at the hard cock in front of him. Thick, long, veiny. No wonder Younghoon always acts so fucking cocky. Dark eyes catch Hyunjae's, and a smirk flashes across Younghoon's face, as his fingers get tangled into Hyunjae's hair.

It has been a long time since Hyunjae last did this, but he doesn't show it. With a playful grin, he grabs Younghoon by the root, and licks his tongue from across the head, down the entire length. Slowly and teasingly. Wet strokes earn him satisfied but impatient moans.

"Fuck-" Younghoon pants, fingers completely lost in Hyunjae's hair. "Fuck, that feels so good."

The praise makes Hyunjae's head spin, it encourages him. His lips close around Younghoon, he tastes him, sucks him off like he would die if he dares stopping. There's too much saliva, too much cock, too much teeth—probably. But Younghoon doesn't complain, his hips rock, thrusting into Hyunjae's mouth, down his throat.

Fuck it, if this is wrong, if this is the worst decision of his life. Fuck feelings, and everything else, as long as Younghoon will fuck him later.

And Younghoon does, he really does. Heavy moans stick onto glistening skin, white cotton sheet caught between clenched fists. Hyunjae takes, and takes, and takes every last bit that Younghoon has to give to him. Pressed against the bed, Younghoon between his thighs, deep inside, fucking into him like there is no tomorrow.

And Younghoon definitely knows how to fuck.

Hard, precise, hitting that certain spot that makes Hyunjae's eyes roll back. Warm, sweating skin, and wet, filthy sounds every time their bodies meet—the sounds make Hyunjae absolutely delirious.

"You like that, don't you?" Even now, Younghoon has to act smug, but in this certain scenario Hyunjae can't really argue with him. He definitely likes it. Every thrust that feels deeper than the last, the way Younghoon is filling him out so perfectly, Hyunjae likes all of it.

He catches Younghoon's lips to shut him up. It's messy and it's wet, all over Hyunjae's face, leaving a faint salty taste on his tongue, from when Younghoon licked up the cum from Hyunjae's first orgasm, what feels like hours ago now.

Fingers dig into Hyunjae's skin, bruise him at his hips, and Younghoon's hungry lips suck marks on his neck, over and over and over, like the way Younghoon keeps filling him up. And God, does it feel fucking good.

"Younghoon... I-I'm... Close-" It's a pathetic whisper, a voice breaking into heated moans. Hyunjae doesn't care, isn't even ashamed that he is close to his second climax, and Younghoon is still going. "Please, so- Close-"

"Then cum for me, baby," Younghoon grabs Hyunjae by the chin, hard, forcing their eyes to meet. His voice is deep, tickling as it echoes through Hyunjae's ears. "And don't be shy this time. Let me hear you."

Neither Hyunjae or Younghoon makes it back to the party. Hyunjae has lost track of time, just like he has lost count of the many times he has screamed Younghoon's name. They fall asleep, exhausted, wrapped in euphoria and the scent of all that is unholy.

But as morning comes, so does reality—and the dreadful realization of what he has done.

Only, make it a million times worse than that.

Hyunjae wakes up with the sun against his face. He groans. Every part of his body hurts, and this is when his eyes suddenly shoot open. Heart racing, he stares at the white ceiling, scared to even move. There is a bitter taste on his tongue, of too many drinks—but worst of all, everything he did in the night.

In the distance he hears Younghoon's voice, and it only makes everything even worse. It makes it real. It happened. He slept with Kim fucking Younghoon.

He hears the door closes, guessing that Younghoon was talking to the hotel staff.

If only it had been that simple.

"Oh, you're awake." Younghoon returns, a black robe sloppily tied around his slender body. Red marks all over his neck and exposed chest. His dark hair is damp, he must have taken a shower while Hyunjae was still asleep.

But Hyunjae barely registers Younghoon's presence​​—doesn't even hear his words. The world is crumbling down, falling apart around him. Pain is exploding in his chest, and he frantically tries to tighten the sheet around him, as would it make him disappear completely.

Juyeon. Juyeon is there, walking in behind Younghoon. But then, he stops. Their eyes meet, and Juyeon just stands there. Stares at Hyunjae, like Hyunjae stares at him. His lips move, but there is nothing but a deafening ringing in Hyunjae's ears.

"What the fu-"