Take me to church 
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies 
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife 
Offer me that deathless death 
Good God, let me give you my life 
Take Me To Church - Hosier

Spring in Seoul comes over so fast it seems to happen overnight. When Jihoon gets up one morning and sees the cherry blossom trees heavy with petals, their dropped ones lining the road like a soft blanket of pink and white snow, he realizes it is here.

They all shuffle outside the dorm, still in their pajamas, to stare at the first blooms. Of course Kyung picks up a handful of petals and flings them at Jiho, who responds in turn, and before Jihoon knows it, Yukwon has shoved a fistful down his shirt and Minhyuk has sprinkled some in his hair.

Not that it matters, because despite the beauty of the petals and their heady scent, Jihoon can’t stop staring at Taeil.

The eldest is staring at the others, a little away from them, with the air of dignified graces that comes with being the eldest. The others leave him out of their game, intentionally, out of respect. As petals fall around him, landing on his skin, Jihoon yearns to pluck them off, touch his skin softer than they can, kiss every inch of him.

Instead he turns away and heads back inside, shaking petals out of his shirt.

//

Hesitating, Jihoon’s fingers brush the keys before retreating back inside his jacket pockets again. How can he word this?

‘I can’t stop fantasizing about a friend of mine. We are both guys. Please help’ he writes, before slamming the backspace key until the admission of guilt is erased.

‘I don’t think I’m straight. I think I love my friend. I don’t know if he feels the same way.’ He erases this one even faster, the word love causing his heart rate to spike. Looking at the blank document in front of him, he chews his lip, nibbling at it until it begins to bleed.

‘I’ve never done this before. When I look at him, I see his tattoos and his eyes and his smile. When he speaks my name, I feel it all the way down to my toes. At night I think of us kissing. During the day I think of him touching me. He is with me all the time and I can’t help it.’

He runs his fingers over the keys before continuing. Maybe he can talk to Jiho about it? Almost as soon as that thought comes, he banishes it. That would be an embarrassment he could not recover from.

‘I am wrong. Boys aren’t meant to feel this way about other boys. I don’t want to feel this way. But his eyes are all I see when I close mine.’

He clicks save, hiding the file away in a maze of hidden folders, better than he hides his . This feels dirtier than , anyway.

//

At night, he touches himself, hands on his until he comes, thinking of Taeil the entire time. When it’s over and he is left with nothing but an empty room and a sticky hand, the shame settles on him like the petals fall outside.

It’s one of these nights when he hurries down the hall to the bathroom to wash his hand, walking fast knowing that Jiho is often up at this hour and might stick his head out to ask what he is doing, when he rounds a corner and bumps straight into Taeil.

Immediately he hides the guilty hand behind him, forcing a smile on his face as his pulse skyrockets. What the hell?

And then he notices. Taeil has a hand behind his back too, is blushing, too, and the realization that they were doing that at the same time is too much and Jihoon pushes past the elder, not bothering to apoligise for being rude, and scurries to the bathroom.

He scrubs his hands until they are red and raw and cracked, but it still doesn’t erase the guilt.

//

His hands are shaking so hard he can barely read the sheet of paper in front of him. Not that he needs to, really, he has memorized every single line, hears it playing in his head before he sleeps – when he speaks my name, I feel it all the way down to my toes – and when he wakes up – during the day I think of him touching me – and during the day.

The urge to tear up the paper and throw it in the bin is almost too much. But he can’t keep going like this, can’t keep looking out the window at the cherry blossoms and feeling a pang in his heart as they remind him of Taeil, can’t keep losing the ability to speak whenever they lock eyes, can’t keep touching himself at night and tasting the contempt for himself on the back of his tongue. He must do this.

With trembling fingers, he signs the piece of paper and folds it once, twice, three times. Before he can back out, he strides across the hall to Taeil’s room and pushes it under the door, before turning around, running back to his room and hiding under the blankets.

And he waits.

//

It’s three am when the knock at his door comes, later than he had expected.

Taeil enters and sits on the bed, pats him through the blanket. “Hey. Jihoonie. What’s this?” He asks, quietly, and Jihoon prepares to say the words aloud, speak the sins, when Taeil keeps going.

“Is this because you know… you know I like guys? It’s natural to have a crush, you know, it happens a lot – ” 

At that insult, Jihoon throws back the covers, eyes blazing. “This isn’t a crush. Hyung, I’m young, but I’m not stupid. Don’t treat me like a child.”

Taeil blinks, affronted or surprised by Jihoon’s outburst (he can’t tell which, the eldest is very good at hiding his emotions) before nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry. So what is this?”

A confession. An admission of guilt. Affirmation of his sins. “The truth.” Is what he says.

Taeil shakes his head. “Jihoon, you should have told me sooner. I can’t – I don’t – I don’t know if you got the wrong message or something but – ”

The rejection comes like a splash of cold water to the face, even though he thought he was ready, was prepared for this.

“No. Just… Please, Hyung, just kiss me.” He blurts, leaning forward, his face screwing up in that ugly way. He knows he is about to cry. “Please.”

Taeil is shocked into silence by that, just stares at Jihoon. His eyes flick down to Jihoon’s lips, back to his eyes, and he swallows. That simple motion sets Jihoon’s head to spinning, and the only way to stop it is to close the distance between them.

Their lips meet and Jihoon knows at once that he is not wrong, he is not a sinner, there is no need for shame – how can there be, when this feels so right? As Taeil’s hand comes up to his face oh-so-gently, as their lips move together and Jihoon’s hand grasps Taeil’s shirt, he gives himself over to the feeling.

“Touch me.” He whispers, kissing Taeil’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder.

So Taeil does.

A/N: so what is quite a lighthearted, simple prompt turned out to be this... angsty... thing. I've never written Jihoon to be quite so ashamed before, it was an interesting experience. Hope you enjoyed~