Jaehwan told him he would like to go to Wonshik’s birthday party together because he didn’t know how Wonshik and he should behave around each other, and yet Hakyeon is the one sitting by the bar now with his whisky and Jaehwan is flirting with Wonshik a few feet away. Hakyeon knocks his whisky back and asks for another one, his head starting to feel funny.

There’s no one he knows among Wonshik’s friends, only Jaehwan, and he’s feeling bored and sleepy, but he promised Jaehwan he would stay until at least midnight, so he orders a third glass.

Someone nudges his right shoulder, and he looks up from the amber coloured liquid, promptly swaying in his seat, having to steady himself by the countertop.

"Hey,” the boy next to him grins, bright and bold and handsome. “Do you remember me?”

Remember is quite a strong expression, Hakyeon thinks, but he recognizes the almond-shaped eyes and the fleshy nose, even the kitten-like lips if he digs deep enough into his memory.

Sanghyuk lets out a soft laugh. “Guess not,” he says, and reaches out a hand. “Han Sanghyuk.”

“Cha Hakyeon,” Hakyeon mumbles, shaking Sanghyuk’s hand. He feels his cheeks heat up, the alcohol suddenly hitting him even harder. “You… Hongbin's—”

“Yeah, we met at Hongbin’s party.” Sanghyuk smirks. “What are you drinking?”

“Jim Beam,” Hakyeon replies.

Sanghyuk turns to the bartender, “Two Jim Beams, please.” He glances at Hakyeon. “Why are you sitting alone?”

“Well, Jaehwan,” Hakyeon looks over his shoulder, Sanghyuk following his gaze, the two of them staring at Jaehwan and Wonshik standing embracing each other for a few moments. “He’s busy.”

“Ah,” Sanghyuk says. “Well, I was supposed to be here with Hongbin, but I have no idea where he is, so I guess we can entertain each other if you want.”

Hakyeon chokes on a sip, coughing gracelessly as Sanghyuk pats his back, the hotness all over his body reaching an unbearable level.

“Do you need some water?” Sanghyuk asks, but Hakyeon only waves a ‘no’.

It’s a slow-burning conversation afterwards, one that Hakyeon feels to be slightly awkward as he keeps thinking about the pictures and the video; Sanghyuk’s fingers drawing patterns into the condensation on the wall of his glass reminding Hakyeon of the sight of Sanghyuk’s hands under his shirt in that one embarrassing photo. Sanghyuk doesn’t show any sign of uncomfortableness, probably tries to make Hakyeon feel relaxed with his questions about Hakyeon’s job and studies and his friendship with Jaehwan, and Hakyeon eases into the topics after a while, talking incessantly with his tongue feeling more and more numb inside his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Sanghyuk inquires with a smile after their third round of whisky, placing a hand on Hakyeon’s lower back.

“No, I—” Hakyeon sighs, trying to fight off the nausea, eyelids moving languidly as he blinks up at Sanghyuk. “I’m so sleepy.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” Hakyeon nods, bracing himself by the counter when he almost falls off the barstool. “But Jaehwan— I don’t… I don’t know how to get home, I— I came with Jaehwan.”

Sanghyuk spins around on his stool, looking for Jaehwan with his hand still on Hakyeon’s back, and a moment later, he leans close to Hakyeon’s ear.

“I think you should call him.”

Hakyeon takes out his phone and fumbles with the lock screen, finds Jaehwan’s number and calls it, but after two rings, the line dies.

“He declined the call,” Hakyeon mumbles.

“Okay, um,” Sanghyuk fishes his own phone out of his jeans’ pocket, tapping on it. “Can you type in your address?”

Hakyeon takes the phone and types in the street and number as best he can, handing the device back to its owner, his head lolling forward. He hears Sanghyuk snort as he gathers Hakyeon closer, lets him rest his head on Sanghyuk’s chest. The boy feels warm and smells of expensive perfume and cigarette smoke, all of those almost lulling Hakyeon to sleep.

“All right, I know how you can get home,” Sanghyuk says after a while, caressing Hakyeon’s back. “Let’s go, okay?”

Hakyeon gets lifted off the barstool, tumbling forward and chuckling, Sanghyuk steadying him. There’s an arm around his waist—an arm that guides him towards a door he sees two of, and after a few seconds, they step out into the cold October night.

“It’s a little far away from here,” he hears Sanghyuk explain, “but you can be at home in about thirty-five minutes.”

Hakyeon hums in response, leaning into Sanghyuk’s side, almost tripping over when Sanghyuk suddenly stops in the bus stop.

“You’re shaking,” Sanghyuk says. “Are you cold?”

“I’m freezing,” Hakyeon mutters, letting his teeth chatter for good measure.

The arm disappears from his waist and a jacket gets wrapped around his shoulders; he whimpers gratefully when Sanghyuk pulls him close, tucking Hakyeon’s head under his chin.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t drink any more?” Sanghyuk asks, voice rumbling inside his chest under Hakyeon’s forehead.

“I would’ve told you if I’d known.”

Sanghyuk lets out a puff of air—a small laugh—, pressing a kiss to Hakyeon’s temple.

“I’m usually not a lightweight,” Hakyeon slurs, tipping his head up. His lips are touching the soft skin of Sanghyuk’s neck, he feels his fast pulse, and smiles against the goosebumps emerging there.

“You’ve contradicted that statement twice before you even uttered it,” Sanghyuk sasses, earning a weak punch in the side from Hakyeon, tightening his hold around him in turn.

They sit on the night bus huddled together, Hakyeon closing his eyes as he lays his head on Sanghyuk’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of Sanghyuk’s fingers laced with his own.

He falls asleep two minutes into the bus ride and only wakes up when they change buses, his mind lingering between consciousness and sleep until they are finally walking towards the apartment building. He barely finds his keys once they’re standing on the porch, and when he enters, Sanghyuk lets go of him.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Hakyeon asks, holding onto the doorknob for dear life.

“I think I should go home, too,” Sanghyuk says, checking his phone. “It’s half past two.”

“You can… sleep here. If you want.” Hakyeon feels a blush creep onto his face from under the collar of his shirt. “I don’t like being alone at night.”

Sanghyuk laughs and steps in, closing the door after him.

“You’re not an average twenty-six-year-old, are you?”

“I’m not a baby,” Hakyeon replies, frowning. “I just have special needs.”

Another boisterous laughter bubbles from Sanghyuk’s throat, and in an instant, he closes the distance between them, kissing Hakyeon on the mouth.

Hakyeon doesn’t understand how he could have forgotten how it felt to have Sanghyuk’s lips on his own when it feels so right; the tempo, the warmth, the rhythm—all of it just perfect. He finds his arms snaking around Sanghyuk’s waist when he feels fingers in his hair, hands cradling the back of his head and holding it gently. The jacket is being tugged off his shoulders and he’s thankful for it, because it’s getting hotter in the living room, or it’s just Sanghyuk’s body pressing into his that heats him up entirely, he’s not sure.

He feels his back hit the wall, Sanghyuk protecting his head with his palm, into his mouth and biting his lower lip as Hakyeon’s hands travel up on Sanghyuk’s torso, fingers creeping under his hoodie, and the jacket falls to the floor from Hakyeon’s shoulders. He pulls back, reaching up to his head to grab Sanghyuk’s hand.

“Come,” he says, dragging Sanghyuk towards his bedroom, ignoring the scattered books and empty tea cups all over the place.

He tries to help Sanghyuk take his hoodie and T-shirt off, probably only making the task more difficult because Sanghyuk laughs softly, previously prettily styled hair getting all messed up, fringe falling in front of his eyes from where it was pushed back. Sanghyuk’s fingers make quick work of the buttons on Hakyeon’s crisp white shirt afterwards, and they stumble back onto the bed when Hakyeon kisses Sanghyuk again.

Hakyeon takes guys up into their flat more often than it would be deemed appropriate—something Jaehwan teases him about regularly—, but it all excites him now more than it makes him nervous, which is something, if he wants to be completely honest. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol inside him that makes him let his guard down so easily or perhaps the fact that Sanghyuk looks and feels so very perfect kissing Hakyeon’s throat with his hand splayed on Hakyeon’s stomach, but it doesn’t even matter much when he wraps his legs around Sanghyuk’s waist, bringing their bodies closer.

“Hakyeon,” Sanghyuk breathes next to his ear, and Hakyeon’s fingers tighten in his locks, coaxing a pretty moan out of the boy. “Hakyeon—”

“I’ve got everything in the drawer,” Hakyeon whispers, biting down on Sanghyuk’s shoulder.

“No,” Sanghyuk pulls back, cupping Hakyeon’s cheek into his hand. He looks gorgeous with those blown pupils and cherry lips, two pink patches colouring his cheeks. “Hakyeon, this is— you’re drunk and I’m not going to take advantage of it.”

“You’re not taking advantage of it,” Hakyeon says, kissing Sanghyuk’s collarbone. “I’d want it even if I were sober.”

There’s a sigh above him, and Sanghyuk rolls off his body, lying down next to Hakyeon. He stares up at the ceiling while Hakyeon stares at him, and he just doesn’t understand what he messed up when everything was going just fine.

“Is it me?” Hakyeon asks, drunk enough to ask questions he doesn’t want to hear the answer to.

“It’s— difficult. I’m not sure what’s going on,” Sanghyuk says, a weak chuckle leaving his throat as he turns towards Hakyeon, pecking his lips. Hakyeon looks at him, puzzled. “Can we just sleep? For now?”

“Sure,” Hakyeon mumbles, feeling hurt by being rejected so easily, without a proper reason.

Sanghyuk reaches over to the light switch to switch it off, and drapes an arm over Hakyeon’s waist, pressing up against him, his breathing becoming even faster than Hakyeon himself would fall asleep despite the alcohol working very diligently to knock him out.