He never really dared to imagine how it would feel to kiss Hakyeon’s lips—that simply seemed too unholy, like Hakyeon was only a paragon of perfection until someone as mundane as Hongbin tainted him by such a human act as a kiss.

His necktie is suffocating him and he loosens it, ending up dry-heaving above the sink nevertheless, the anxiety from not getting even just a text from Sanghyuk for the sixth day in a row stirring up in his stomach, making it cramp.

Sanghyuk doesn’t usually fall for puppy eyes.

He said loving Jaehwan was more futile than longing for someone who was long dead. And he was probably right.

Sanghyuk had stupid shiny black hair and a stupidly cute fleshy nose and a pair of stupid, nicely-shaped eyes as well as stupid pink lips he liked to wet with his tongue a little too much between two stupid smirks, and he was also stupidly tall, but Jaehwan would never have a crush on him. He didn’t like bad guys.

“Lee Jaehwan,” the guy replies and reaches out a hand for Sanghyuk to shake. “Guide to lost souls trying to find themselves The Book. Always a pleasure to set up a rendezvous between an enthralling story and a reader starving to read something good.”

Taekwoon had been used to silence once; he had lived in this very flat for years before Hakyeon came into his life, and Hakyeon was the first thing to fill it with noise and laughter and incessant talking, but he was nowhere now.

Wonshik believes Jaehwan is most beautiful when he's sleepy soft like that; no makeup, no fancy clothes, only his pale, smooth skin and the blemishes on his face. He's gorgeous.

Jaehwan is the heat of the sun in mid-July and Hongbin is the frost on a windowpane on the chilliest winter morning.

“Han Sanghyuk asked me out today.”

It’s insane how addictive Jaehwan is, from head to toe, from his sweet scent to his even sweeter voice, from his featherlight touches to his hungry kisses.