Ryeowook appears at his doorstep thirty minutes after texting him, wearing a frown that could have put an angry Kangin to shame any day. Siwon makes sure to lean on the doorframe a little too smugly, remembering how lots of people find him cool and attractive whenever he did it, but any chance of that thought entering Ryeowook’s brain disappears as he stomps past him to make his way to his bedroom. Siwon smiles crookedly and touches his forearm, where Ryeowook’s fingers brushed lightly against. It’s enough invitation for him to quicken his pace.

“Kyuhyun being a again?” Siwon asks smoothly (and maybe a little lewdly), his hand resting on Ryeowook’s waist when he catches up with him in front of his bedroom door. Ryeowook raises an eyebrow at him, but stays silent as he toes off his shoes and motions for Siwon to sit on the bed.

“I need consolation,” Ryeowook says, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. Siwon stiffens and crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly unamused, because Ryeowook is not a mean person by nature, it’s just that Siwon knows Ryeowook isn’t naturally nice, just extremely civil to a fault and uncomfortable with situations like with Kyuhyun. It throws Ryeowook off his element and gives him nothing to fall back on except for this.

“What am I, a pity ?” He mutters, looking pointedly away, and Ryeowook can’t help but press a pacifying kiss to the corner of Siwon’s mouth. It’s amazing, sometimes, how Siwon is such a dependable hyung, always a father figure to the rest of them when they need it, but with Ryeowook he’s an insanely jealous e to sulking.

Siwon turns his head, lets his lips slide against Ryeowooks, briefly. Ryeowook kisses him again, languidly, the earlier frustration in his expression wiped away completely, crumbling under Siwon’s petulance, because he may be younger and less knowledgeable of things beyond his age, beyond his current capacity, but it is Siwon who allows him this small token of weakness, the right to control that which others could not touch.

“Never,” Ryeowook says, eyes hooded and fingers sliding past his cheek and fluttering against the back of Siwon’s neck, coaxing and gentle and persistent, still, and Siwon pulls him closer to place a kiss on his ear, the tenderness contrasting with his hardness pressing against Ryeowook’s thigh. It makes Ryeowook groan and tangle his fingers into Siwon’s hair, pleading, and Siwon lets his hand trail down his waist, past his hipbone, drawing lazy patterns across his clothed skin.

“You’re so spoiled,” Siwon sighs, scratching at the material of his jeans, as if seeking permission.

“You’re a tease,” Ryeowook retorts, placing his palm against the back of Siwon’s hand to still him, and brings Siwon’s fingers to pop the button of his jeans open, “and you spoil us too much.”

Siwon drags the zipper down, and smirks knowingly.





Siwon traces his name across Ryeowook’s cheeks, over and over, and Ryeowook is too sleepy to complain about Siwon’s strange fixations, habits formed not out of simple enjoyment at doing so – more like, a means to assure for himself that he still has a fixed place in Ryeowook’s life, something to make people acknowledge something else about him other than his skill.

Siwon is not Kyuhyun, who is content with some solitude, who rarely feels the need to go out of his way to be accepted. Siwon may be older, and yet he is more fragile, easily swayed by judgment. Siwon knows this and accepts this, but it is always easier to hate the sin and not the sinner. Siwon struggles with his relationships, the tenuous balance of awkwardness and his idea of coolness hanging above his head, like a dagger.

On the other hand, Kyuhyun seems more self-assured than he is, more in control than Siwon could ever have a hold on his own team.

But Siwon knows that Kyuhyun cannot separate work from play, cannot see the difference between a lover and a rival with the blind determination Siwon sometimes secretly craves for himself.

He is not aware he has vocalized his thoughts, too lost in the endless stream of words that mean nothing and everything for him, coalescing with the sluggish afterglow of , the scent of Ryeowook’s skin on his own comforting, until Ryeowook makes a noise of assent against Siwon’s chest.

“I don’t know what he wants from me,” Ryeowook confesses, teeth worrying at his lower lip so enticingly it distracts Siwon, “why can’t he accept this?”

“He’s a kid,” Siwon mutters, and when Ryeowook looks up at him with questioning eyes, he tries to continue his point even if he really, really wants a kiss at the moment, “a stupid, stubborn kid, but we love him anyway.”

“I do,” Ryeowook whispers, “I do.”

There’s a silence, for a few minutes, while Siwon shifts closer and presses soft kisses along Ryeowook’s jaw, past his neck, marking his collarbone. Ryeowook makes a hushed, pleased sound, and closes his eyes, lulled to sleep by the gentleness in Siwon’s ministrations.

“I don’t have to swim to be with you,” Siwon whispers into Ryeowook’s hair, “You don’t have to force yourself for me to love you all the more.”

He hears him, and smiles.