Onew and Kyuhyun were kissing with a fervent passion, as if the rest of the world didn't exist or else meant nothing. Kyuhyun pushed his dongsaeng backwards so that he laid in bed. He climbed on top of Onew and smirked in excited anticipation. Onew bit his lip as he reached up to pull his hyung down and Kyuhyun subtlety chuckled at the impatient gesture. Their lips were just about to meet again. It moved in slow motion, closer and closer when-

WOAH. Kyuhyun shot up from his sleeping position, covered in sweat. He panted, his racing heart waking him up faster.

What in God’s name? Kyuhyun’s confusion was quickly exchanged for disgust. Was I actually dreaming about… ? He didn't allow himself to finish the thought before he quickly tore the sheets off and tossed them to the side, only to discover something even more telling.

Rock hard and straight up, as if to give him a standing ovation, his was a full on rager. Kyuhyun quickly replayed the memory of his dream and involuntarily blushed, his white cheeks full and red. He scrunched himself up into a ball, hiding from his own embarrassment. Well, just because he dreamt about it, didn't mean he wanted it, right? This situation was just brought to his attention and he’d been worrying about it all day so it'd be normal for him to dream of… right? Kyuhyun wrestled with his own subconscious. No matter which way he spun it, he knew that even if he was just dreaming about something in his recent thoughts doesn't explain why it felt so good. Kyuhyun physically shuddered and felt the memory’s residual shock waves pulse through , only reinforcing his situation.

He grew agitated. How could his mind and body disagree so fundamentally and still coexist? Kyuhyun felt a quick jolt of adrenaline as he considered that he could be going crazy.

this he half thought, half muttered to himself as he hastily got out of bed. He  crossed the room and opened his sock drawer to retrieve his stash of whiskey. He kept it there in case of emergency, and if this wasn’t an emergency, he didn’t know what was. He collapsed on his side back into bed, alternating between lazily sipping and purposefully chugging the booze, and felt his whole body relaxing more with each swallow.

He thought about his brother, their encounter, how this whole dilemma started. He repressed the memory, but the alcohol swept all his inhibitions away, allowing him to remember exactly how he felt. Although he felt overwhelming anxiety, he also felt great. Really, great. Every one of his brothers touches sent taboo thrills chasing after each other, each more satisfying and terrifying than the last. Like a rollercoaster ride, there was fear and there was ecstasy somehow existing in the same space, and it was glorious. He took another gulp of whiskey. He could no longer deny his true desires, at least to himself, in the privacy of his alcohol riddled mind. He knew that he could've given in to his brother’s advances right then and there- said to hell with morals and pick the forbidden fruit and it would've felt… oh, he didn't want to think about how he knew it would've felt. He rolled over and continued the debate with himself until he gave in fully and passed out.