*A/N: I can’t ing do this, you guys. I’m aual– I have no idea how any of this works. I. Can’t. ing. Do. This.
Ugh.*

Nichkhun is happy. He feels good and warm and secure in a way he hasn’t since he was a child, snuggled up and sharing a bed with his whole family back in Thailand. He takes a deep breath, expecting a lungful of his mother’s soft, spicy shampoo, the kind she always buys from the vendor at the corner.

– Instead he smells sweat and soap and a slight air of musk, something heady and familiar and addicting…

Chansung. Chansung’s long hair tickling the back of Khun’s neck and Chansung’s solid chest and arm and leg, draped with full weight over him and bleeding heat into every fibre of his being, and that smell– , that smell that just fogs up his brain and makes it impossible for him to think straight.

He tries to move away, but Chansung doesn’t let him; grips him by the waist and presses the lines of their bodies together so that Nichkhun’s heart seizes up and he bites back a gasp. He can feel everything and it’s amazing. .

Sure, he acts mature and his feelings for Chansung are so much bigger than anything physical but…

. He’s a healthy, hot-blooded young man and he hasn’t so much as jacked-off in months and… God, he really needs to– To just–

Get out. Get up. Stand up and leave, just walk away before you do something you can’t take back. Just move.

Ungh!!

! Breathe, Nichkhun, breathe. Calm down!

Chansung is sixteen! He’s a !

And he’s also wrapping his leg around Nichkhun’s thigh, pressing his ankle between Nichkhun’s calves, with the inside of his elbow brushing one of Nichkhun’s s and his hand under Nichkhun’s ribs.

And it should be suffocating, unbearable, to have all that weight on him– And it is– But it feels…

It feels good. It is unbearable and it is suffocating and Nichkhun wants to spend the rest of his life trapped right here.

And he needs to stop hyperventilating or else Chansung is going to wake up and then he’s going to know.

He’ll know and he’ll be kind and accepting and he’ll reject Nichkhun as gently as possible, eyes full of understanding and pity, and he’ll try to keep some distance between them and make it as painless as possible and he’ll never laugh or smile or ruffle Nichkhun’s hair or hug him or eat out of his hands or sleep in the same bed with him again…

He’ll try not to make it obvious; he’ll try to be as normal as possible, but it won’t be the same. It’ll be different.

It will be painful and uncomfortable and distant and Nichkhun…

He can’t live with that. He doesn’t want to lose this, doesn’t want to lose Chansung and everything they have together.

He’s afraid.

He’s terrified.

He’s crying and shaking and Chansung is awake and leaning over him and pulling Nichkhun’s arms around his neck and rubbing circles into his back and shushing him and Nichkhun wants to calm down, but he keeps imagining how horrible it would be to lose this and he just can’t stop.

He’s about to graduate and enter the work-force and start paying rent and being a grown-up, but he’s still here, sobbing in Chansung’s arms like a small child.

And he can’t remember ever feeling safer in his entire life.

He just doesn’t know what to do anymore.

*A/N: Bear with me, I'm trying and real is still like six chapters off. I'm trying.*

*I was wrong, it's like fourteen chapters away.*