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Title: Four digit bullet
Pairing(s): Sehun/Baekhyun[main], side!Kai/Kyungsoo, past/one-sided!Sehun/Joonmyeon.
Genre: fluff, romance.
Rating: NC-13
Length: 4848 (oneshot)
Warning(s): Alcohol consumption. Mentions of (non-sexual) finger sucking??? (I don’t know if you need to be warned of that or not so uh). And, like, Jongin being touchy. Language.
Summary: Sequel. New years fic. Baekhyun’s a complete lightweight and a very cuddly drunk.
A/N: this is a sequel to my other fic “Sew we meet again” (which is mainly a kaisoo) focusing on Sehun and his relationship with Baekhyun.  I don’t think you absolutely need to read that first to understand what’s going on in this fic, but there are references to it in here. I would suggest reading it would be a good idea, but yeah, it’d be fine if you didn’t.
The title, and intro might sound kind of angsty, but it really isn’t, it’s a fluff~
And I don’t have a beta, so yeah, sorry.

Note: Korean legal drinking age is 19 years.


23:59 and 56 seconds

Well here’s to the third  year, and many to come, of hopeless infatuation.

Clunks of glass against glass sound as each of the four people in the room cheered at the timer beaming from Baekhyun’s TV set.

0:00 and 0 seconds.

Since when was new year’s eve, to an eighteen-year-old, actually melancholic? Since when did the four round digits get the chance to rip through him like a regret-encrusted bullet?

Eighteen year olds shouldn’t be spending their New Year’s feeling remorseful for the things they should have done. They should be singing off-key to dumb cliché songs, gulping alcohol they aren’t entirely allowed in legal terms, their arms thrown over a friend’s shoulders sloppily, feeling the last seconds of a year trickle though their fingers in a daze of (no matter how much they choose to overestimate their maturity) youthful fascination.

“Happy new year Sehunnie!” Baekhyun beamed at him, pulling on the string of a party popper to let the colourful tissue paper confetti explode in his face.

It wasn't like the doom and gloom could last that long with the object of his affection smiling all prettily like that at him, anyway.

He frowned at the gunpowder burning his nose and grabbed the colourful streamers decorating his face and hair, jumping over at his smaller friend.

Baekhyun cowered back into the sofa. He laughed and shielded his face, almost curling into a protective little armadillo ball.

Sehun grinned mischievously, grabbing the elder’s pale wrists with one hand, yanking them away from his face and chucking all of the crinkled streamers at his head.
“You too hyung,” he chuckled slyly.

Baekhyun whined and slapped his hands away, crescent-shaped eyes peeking out from where his hands hastily cleared the colourful mess hanging over his features and hair.

“is it all gone?”

Sehun raised an eyebrow and decided not to mention the green twirled strand sitting at the top of his head, “mhm.”

Baekhyun squinted at him, “I don’t trust you.”

Sehun scoffed, “ a wise decision,” he pulled out his phone and took a shot of his confetti-adorned pouty hyung.

What a cute little bean sprout.

But then he noticed Baekhyun was giving him a smile he wasn’t entirely sure he liked, and he turned cautiously to find a smirking Jongin clutching two (big) cans of silly string.

And no, maybe not such a cute little bean sprout anymore.


“No, Jongin. No no no no no,” he uttered, stepping backwards a few times with his arms held out in some sort of desperate attempt at defence.

“Let’s talk about this please.”

Jongin’s grin only widened.

“Mercy plea-“ , he stopped when the dancer lurched forwards, twin sprays of the gloopy substance aimed at Sehun’s head. He ducked and scuttled around his opponent’s knees, catching the back of them with his palms in an attempt at trip him over.
He then blindly launched himself over the couch to get into the dining area, almost fucking up his shoulder in the process. Ouch.

Sadly, Jongin didn’t trip. Dumb dancer reflexes. He stumbled slightly and bounded out right after Sehun, managing to streak two lines of the substance on his shins.
The blonde gave a (manly) yelp as he felt the cold liquid bleeding through his jeans and ran around the table, dodging the chairs littered around as well as Jongin’s ammo.

He hurtled though the kitchen, almost crashing into Kyungsoo, who was calmly whisking at a pudding batter. The wide eyed man gave a small, muffled screech and swerved out of danger. Thankfully the batter was entirely unharmed.
Jongin burst in not three seconds later, a little more careful in his tread through kyungsoo’s domain.
The tailor smiled gently and continued with his work.

Baekhyun’s apartment was essentially a doughnut shaped space, with a little area for a flight of stairs leading to his room and the upstairs bathroom in the centre. Each room linked in a pinwheel that could go on forever if you could run for that long.
So, naturally, Sehun and Jongin hurtled around it about seven times in their chase, the both of them yelling at each other.

“JONGIN STOP ALREADY WOULD YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHAT,” Sehun hollered leaping over the low coffee table.

“HELL NO MOFO YOU HAD THIS COMING!”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU?!”

Jongin caught the middle of Sehun’s back with the string. Sehun squealed incoherently at him.

“OH REALLY NOW? DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU OF YOUR UNHELPFULNESS WHEN I WAS STUCK, WITH THE NEED TO PEE, IN THE CLUTCHES OF A SLEEPING ANGEL AND YOU TOLD ME TO KICK HIM?”

that's what this is about?” Sehun shouted exasperatedly, craning his neck to give Jongin a judging look as he crossed through the entrance hall for the third time.

“Eat karma, bitch.”


Baekhyun finally managed to stop laughing uselessly in the background to join in the fray. He jumped out at Sehun, trying to throw him off balance or trip him.
Sehun just pushed his stupid perfect, grinning face away sulkily.

Stupid, perfect, puppy face.

Sadly the distraction left him skidding on the cold blue tiles of the kitchen floor about ten seconds later. He Crashed, head-first, into the island cabinet on the left side.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Kyungsoo called from his bowl on the other side of the kitchen, wide-eyed and concerned.

Sehun groaned in confirmation and looked up to see Jongin, face now graced with a shit-eating grin of triumph.
And then he was quickly transformed into a 184cm cream-topped trifle.



“Wow he got you pretty good,” Kyungsoo commented, using the shower head to wash the streaks of glooey, viscous string out of Sehun’s hair.

“Well could we expect less of mr. Superstar Kim?”

Kyungsoo laughed, twisting the knob of the shower pump off. “I suppose not.”

 An airy bubbly laugh filtered in from the next room alongside Jongin’s deep playful commentary, Baekhyun’s. Sehun was pulled from reality at the sound for a moment, permanent stony face masking his internal solemn smile.



Kim Joonmyeon was a rather conflicting fragment residing in Sehun’s memory. It was one that Sehun simultaneously wanted to lock in a pretty, old wooden box and maybe open to gaze at fondly once in a while, but also one which he also wanted to chuck from a 50-story building and set on fire.
A few years back, at the very start of Sehun’s second year of secondary school, his childhood constant had left him to peruse his dream in Seoul. Of course he was happy for his best friend; he’d managed to get into the university of his dreams and in Seoul no less.
However, he couldn’t help the helpless feeling that suddenly crept its way into his bones. Sehun found himself feeling more than a little abandoned. Kyungsoo had been a person who had been there for as long as Sehun could remember existing. Even though they didn't share a lot of interests or talk very much, there was a mutual understanding between their silence. They both offered a kind of unconditional connection and reassurance.  The same with most old friends, they were brothers of unshared blood.

So his second year started on somewhat unsure footing to say the least, it felt like he was starting all over again in a new place even if it was wrought with familiarities. He yearned for another source of solace that would stem him back to solid ground.

This, he managed to find in a certain head boy, Kim Joonmyeon.

Joonmyeon had a very rarely come about mentality, he was the student body's kind, adorable, slightly awkward, hardworking little head boy.
In fact, he even garnered a nickname that, despite only being a first year when it came about, had some of the seniors at their school address him by, in jest of his guardian angel like demeanor, 'Suho'.

Somehow through gentle smiles and a soft, feathery voice, Sehun found himself grounded again. He kept himself encased in Joonmyeon's little warmly glowing aura, home is what Sehun would describe it as.

The result of the strange unbreakable attachment Sehun spontaneously developed for the shorter boy was an increased percentage of time being shared between the two. Joonmyeon, though, didn't seem to mind the younger's seemingly constant presence. Nor the way Sehun practically draped himself over his shorter frame (Sehun has always been a very skinship-prone boy and would never deny it.) He seemed to understand quite well that Sehun was feeling lonely and was very willing to help a person, particularly a dongseng, in need. He was kept bemused by Sehun's adorable self anyway.

Joonmyeon would often ruffle his hair and smile that celestial smile of his, wishing him luck for a test he'd helped him study for. He would listen to whatever Sehun felt like rambling about intently as they sat slurping up cheap chicken flavoured ramen outside of 24\7 convenience stores, no matter how ridiculous it was. He would nag about how Sehun's “hair was in desperate need of cutting” and wonder “how on earth you could see anything with that mop of a fringe hanging in your eyes like that twenty-four-seven.” Sehun decided to humor his protests at one point, but with the addition of bubblegum pink dye just for the hell of it.

Boy did Joonmyeon's jaw drop at that one. Instead of lecturing him about the schools hair-styling restrictions, though, like Sehun expected him to, he started laughing until he was in tears for a full fifteen minutes.


All this while, Sehun started to see the human side to the school’s guardian angel. He saw the soft underlayer that his glowing reputation hid with practiced smiles and Oscar worthy acting skills.


He found him alone at the library once, late at night, at a time when even the most determined crammers no longer remained, sobbing beseechingly into crumpled exam papers and advanced chemistry text books.
This, he discovered, happened at least once every fortnight after the next three times he found the head boy in that state, same place.

Then there was the time he followed Joonmyeon out of the lunch hall. The boy's hands had been shaking around the plastic tray in his hands before he dropped it off, pristine and untouched. Joonmyeon had bid a speedy exit after a bout of ruthless teasing some third year snobs had thrown over him, of which, presumably, was not supposed to meet the head boy’s ears. Assholes didn't even bother to check if he was in the room.

The thing about Joonmyeon was that he could sometimes come off as painfully awkward, cheesy, naive and a little old-fashioned. Most people would politely ignore those things because they knew he was an amazing person and a good leader. Others, sadly, didn't manage to value his kind authority and academic achievement enough not to viciously call him out on the former traits.
It genuinely broke Sehun's heart whenever he bore witness to it.

Joonmyeon was curled into himself around the back of the sports hall, nestled between two small Hawthorne bushes. His fingers rubbed painfully at his temple, red blotches spreading in their wake and tears streaming relentlessly down his cheeks.

The strangled sobs sounding from around the corner drove a double-decker bus over Sehun’s abused pulmonary system with every breathy wail.  The air in his lungs all but punched out.

So, right then, as he launched himself around the back of the back of the building, he decided firmly that he would do whatever he could to patch up the person who had done very much the same for him since the start of the year.

"Sehun?" Joonmyeon choked, feeling long wiry arms encase him.

He lifted his head, only to have it gently guided by a hand pressed to his hair into the larger boy's shoulder.

"it's alright, myeon, let it all out. I’ve got you.''

After the second it took for the other to comprehend his statement, Sehun felt moisture bleeding through in a patch of his shirt, onto his skin.


For the next two years, the two managed to stitch each other up. Sehun let Joonmyeon cry on his shoulder about the ridiculous expectations, the circled red letters marking the top corner of each of his essays and exam papers. As well as those who were, in Sehun’s opinion, pompous jerks with sticks shoved up their asses.

They both managed to grow their own roots and stand on their own, Sehun no longer felt lonely and lost, Joonmyeon no longer felt as if people, restrictions and expectations were breathing down his neck and draining liquid from his vessels.

However, about three quarters of the way through the year, Sehun felt a distinct difference in his feelings towards Joonmyeon.

He was aware, vaguely, that to start with; he had been gravitated towards Joonmyeon because the guy was the only person who could manage to fill the nagging void Sehun felt with the absence of Kyungsoo. He was also aware of how horrible it was of him to use Joonmyeon like a replacement, he did regret that.
Even so, because he was something to fill a Kyunngsoo-shaped void, Sehun’s feelings towards him were relatively similar, yet not as strong, to those he had for Kyungsoo. They were those of a platonic brother-like nature.

However, seemingly after the hawthorn incident, those were set off kilter completely.

He’d never thought about how smooth and soft the milky skin of Kyungsoo’s neck or thighs would be. He never contemplated the beauty of his eyes, nor did he ever discreetly count the amount of moles he could find at the back of his neck or down his arms when the other slept one afternoon at his desk. He never felt like constantly running his fingers through his silky hair or slinging an arm around his waist possessively.

No, no, all those things were directed at Joonmyeon.


Sehun was shocked when new years had rolled around that year, time had gone by so fast and he hadn’t gotten the chance to do anything about his troublesome feelings. “I’ll make good use of next year to sort them out,” he concluded.

Except when the year had rolled over again, everyone was leaving for universities all over the country, Joonmyeon included. In fact, he had even managed to get into one of the top rated ones, it seemed his studying had paid off a lot.
The only problem was that it was abroad, at least a few thousand miles away from Sehun’s, and Sehun had never managed to confess anything even though his stupid feelings just kept on swelling and swelling.

Because, as it turns out, Joonmyeon is about as bent as an acrylic ruler.


That year, he watched the timer on his own television. Alone, he counted the last few seconds of 2011 slipping through his fingers, the last grains of glowing hope for a single kiss from his friend, tears trickling silently down his face.

A sob escapes his mouth as the digits which would haunt him for a long time after flash on the screen,

0:00 and 0 seconds.


Sehun started the long healing process time has to offer in 2012. He moved in with Kyungsoo because their universities happened to be close. He was very glad for this, having hadn’t seen or heard much from his best friend since the elder’s departure, with the exception of a few phone calls and kakao conversations. It was nice to catch up with him and develop a new routine.

After a few months, he found himself thinking of Joonmyeon less and generally becoming livelier, not straining under a slight cloud of melancholy all the time anymore. Although he knew he would probably never be completely over the other boy, even now those cursed digits had caused a shard of pain in his chest, at least his mood was lightening.

Joonmyeon was just another scar on Sehun’s existence, another proof that he’d lived and loved. And Sehun was fine with that.


But then Byun fucking Baekhyun struts through the door of his and Kyungsoo’s apartment one day, demanding his wide-eyed classmate come help him with some sort of textile-related assignment, before belatedly realising the guy he was yelling at was not in fact his compact little doe-eyed friend, but instead,

--“Oh Sehun.”

“Oh, wait, do you mean Kyungsoo’s childhood friend Sehun? Are that one?”

Sehun hummed lazily in confirmation. The droopy-eyed boy broke out into a delighted cheery smile, “I’m his friend from Uni, Baekhyun.”

Sehun glanced at the ceiling, vaguely recalling Kyungsoo listing off a ‘Baekhyun’ at some point when they were catching up a few weeks ago, “ohhh.”

Baekhyun chuckled briefly before prancing over to the couch where Sehun was lounged and perched on the cushion next to him, “he did say you were rather stoic.”

Sehun snorted and crossed his arms, “well he’s not wrong,” he stood from the couch, “you want a drink?”
Sehun was taught manners, after all.

“Jesus, he wasn’t lying about you being fucking tall either.”

Apparently, maybe, this kid hadn’t been.

“No, he’s just short.”

“Ouch,” Baekhyun laughed again, “but yes please I would like that drink.”

And somehow he had fallen all over again.



“Sehun? Sehun are you listening?”

He fazed back into reality to the feeling of fingers prodding his forehead.

“Mmm? Hyung?”

Kyungsoo lowered his hand, “are you okay? You looked like you were going to cry for a second there.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it, hyung.”

Kyungsoo scrutinised him for a second, before sweeping his hands through Sehun’s blond bangs, “okay. But please tell me about it when you’re ready. The look you had just then was similar to the one you had when you first moved here with me,” Kyungsoo smiled sadly, “It hurts to see you so sad.”

Sehun’s eyes flicked up at Kyungsoo’s for a moment, surprised, but he quickly lowered them again, “o-okay. I’m sorry.”
Kyungsoo’s smile turned back into a cheery grin, “don’t be sorry, Hunnie. Come on, let’s go back with the others.”

Sehun nodded and slung the towel that was draped on his lap over his shoulders, waiting for Kyungsoo to finish packing cleaning supplies away before leaving for the lounge.


As they returned, a bleeping noise blared through the house originating from the kitchen, signalling Kyungsoo’s pudding was ready. Said boy rushed off to take it from the oven hissing a choice few curses along with a, “damnit I almost forgot”.

Sehun grinned amusedly at this, sauntering his way into the lounge where the other two were lounged about, giggling profusely at some gag show running on Baekhyun’s TV set.

“Aw, you washed off my trophy you spoilsport,” Jongin whined once he noticed the younger in the room.

Sehun sniffed, “sorry. Not much of a fan of trifles.”

Baekhyun stood and patted Sehun’s back a few times, maybe a little too strongly considering he ended up spluttering, “it’s all good. I have photographic record anyway, Sehunnie.”

“That is so very assuring Baek,” he scoffed.

Baekhyun beamed at him.


After feasting on Kyungsoo’s amazing pudding, they all sat around Baekhyun’s lounge, chatting away and half-watching a James Bond marathon the film channel was having.

Chanyeol had dropped in at some point too, loudly declaring, “I COME BARING ALCOHOL.” Baekhyun had practically leapt up at the sound of that, grabbing the plastic bag from Chanyeol’s hands and rummaging through the assortment of soju, beer and “....Champagne?” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at the tall man, who was dumping his coat and scarf in a pile by the door.  Chanyeol shrugged, “it’s alcohol isn’t it? New year’s is supposed to be a celebration anyway.” Baekhyun nodded with a pleased expression, “can’t argue with that.”

Even after Kyungsoo had quickly stunted Sehun and Jongin’s subtle attempts at sipping a few swigs of the beer, both of them still minors, somehow, Jongin had ended up pleasantly red-cheeked and trying to claw off every piece of fabric on his skin. Apparently the chocolates Jongin had been wolfing down for a while might have been a little bit spiked.
Probably more than a little, Sehun thought, as he observed a shirtless Jongin wrapping his arms tightly around Kyungsoo’s waist and kneading the skin of his hips. Kyungsoo was blushing up to the roots of his hair and elbowing Jongin’s chest.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were also pretty buzzed themselves, making a load of unintelligible garbled noises that Sehun assumed was supposed to be talking and singing terribly slurred and off-key to the advertisement songs that occasionally flashed across the tv screen. Chanyeol seemed better off than Baekhyun, though, managing to still walk steadily on his trip to the toilet. Although, it could also be more to do with Baekhyun’s perpetual lightweight tenancies, as he recalled Kyungsoo mentioning a while back.

 Eventually Kyungsoo declared a hasty retreat after Jongin decided that trousers were suddenly a terrible idea, dragging his boyfriend out the door with him.
Chanyeol also left a few minutes later, sending a few winks at Sehun and jabbing his fingers in the direction of inebriated Baekhyun, hanging upside down from the couch making gurgly noises. Fucker wasn’t so drunk at all.
Sehun made sure to give him the finger before he closed the door. Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows and grinned back at him.

Sehun returned to the lounge and sat down at the opposite end of the couch from Baekhyun, picking up the remote and scanning the channels for anything interesting to watch. He settled for a crime drama before turning his attention to Baekhyun again.

The older boy was still upside-down, face flushed furiously from all the blood that had pooled there and sweat beading his brows.
Sehun frowned and clutched the elder’s arm, bringing him back upright. Baekhyun squinted at him with an adorably confused expression and almost face-planted the couch pillows from the sudden head rush, “you’re going to get a headache like that, idiot,” Sehun steadied him again.

Baekhyun smiled dopily and shuffled over to Sehun’s side of the couch, hugging Sehun’s arm and snuggling up into his side, “warm”.

Sehun raised an eyebrow at him, “aren’t drunk people usually already too warm?”

Baekhyun shook his head, face squished by Sehun’s arm, “cold.”

“Weird.”


Sehun turned his attention to the drama for a while; he watched a few people busting around a high-tech office with grave expressions hammering on about calibres.

It was lost again when Baekhyun started squirming his way onto Sehun’s lap, whining like a puppy. He slipped his arms tightly around Sehun’s waist and buried his face into the fabric of Sehun’s jumper. Sehun sighed, patting Baekhyun’s back, “are you really that cold, hyung?”

The only response he got was Baekhyun digging his toes underneath Sehun’s thighs.


Silence ensued for another 10 minutes, the characters on the screen now in a crudely lit interrogation room and speaking in harsh, passive aggressive tones to each other. So this is why active-volcano-in-a-small-package Kyungsoo likes these shows so much, Sehun snorted briefly.

Suddenly there were hands under his jumper, pulling at it to slip an entire Baekhyun-shaped form in. Sehun waved his hands around indecisively for a few moments while small hands wrapped around his waist once again, a little sigh escaping from underneath the fabric.

“B-baek?” Sehun questioned, delicately placing his hand on the older’s encased back.

“Hmmm, you’re, you’re really cozy Sehunnie,” Baekhyun mumbled, turning his head sideways and resting it on Sehun’s chest.

Sehun knew Baekhyun could probably hear the slightly unsteady thrum of his heart muscle through the thin t-shirt fabric but paid it no mind, slipping a shaky hand under his clothing to rub Baekhyun’s back directly in an attempt at warming him up properly. It seemed like a good choice as Baekhyun leant into his touch and made a few little happy sighing noises.

Sehun’s lips slipped into a dumb grin as he continued rubbing and watching the show simultaneously.


“Your heart feels so nice,” Baekhyun murmured appreciatively a good 15 minutes later, “I’d sleep so nicely like this every night.”

Sehun’s cheeks were suddenly smattered in an embarrassing amount of red, he gave Baekhyun a slightly choked hum in response, pulse leaping.

Baekhyun chuckled lightly and shuffled upwards until his smiling eyes were peeking out from the neckline of Sehun’s jumper, “you’re so cute.”

The blonde furrowed his eyebrows, cheeks still warm, and poked Baekhyun’s spine. Baekhyun let out a surprised giggle, and continued to blink up at him, “and pretty, where did you get those eyelashes from, you bastard.”

Sehun flushed impossibly darker and used his free hand to try stuff Baekhyuns face back down his jumper, however, his forefinger accidentally slipped in between Baekhyun’s lips and stalled as he heard a gasp from the elder. Neither of them moved an inch for a full minute, Sehun’s heart hammered insistently in his chest.

Baekhyun was the first to break the stillness, moving his lips tentatively around Sehun’s fingers, nipping them slightly and sliding his tongue over the nail. Sehun’s eyes widened, his body unable to move for a few seconds, until he slid the digits from Baekhyun’s mouth and cupped his face to bring it out his neckline again.

Sehun stared into Baekhyun’s soft eyes, they seemed eerily brightly functioning and sober compared to earlier. He smiled gently, thumbing Baekhyun’s lip.

Baekhyun’s lips curved under his fingertips and he spoke in a sincere low tone, “we should really cut the crap, shouldn’t we?”

Sehun responded by pressing their lips together, fingers now skating across Baekhyuns closed eyes and fluttering eyelashes.
The dark haired boy nibbled Sehun’s lip in a feisty manner, hands clutching at the fabric covering his back. Sehun smiled briefly, reciprocating his movements and following Baekhyun’s lead.

Eventually they had to break apart for the benefit of their lungs, Baekhyun chuckled breathlessly, eyes shining with awe in the orange lighting of the living room.
Warmth surged in Sehun’s chest and he let out a small laugh of his own, smoothing his hand over Baekhyun’s cheek.

“I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time,” Baekhyun breathed.

Sehun nodded and pecked his cheek, “me too, Baek, you have no idea... I, I really,” the words got stuck awkwardly in his throat.

Baekhyun smiled reassuringly, “me too Hun,” he squeezed Sehun’s waist slightly; “I like you too.”

Sehun beamed at those words, “you’re perfect, hyung. Really. I, you’re beautiful, you’re talkative and funny. You’re so shameless and confident when you want to make someone laugh. You’re adorable. You’re so subtle in showing your caring side all the time, but I love every moment I see a glimpse of it, I really do. I’m so glad I could meet you and I really, really do like you. So much.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks were dusted with a rosy shade, he smiled shyly, not meeting Sehun’s eye. Sehun bit back a laugh, “you.are.so.goddaamn.precious,” he punctuated each word with a press of lips on Baekhyun’s nose.
The elder squirmed and gave a gurgly laugh, cheeks still aflame. “gahhh stop, I’m going to overheat,” he complained quietly, hiding his face in Sehun’s neck.

Sehun stroked the back of his neck, cooing at him softly until Baekhyun lifted his face again, no longer in danger of turning into a tomato. “God that was embarrassing,” he groaned.

Sehun merely gently ran his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair for a while, listening to the muted sound of the tv rolling credits and the shorter boy’s breathing.

“Want to go sleep? Its,” he craned his neck to see the clock on the wall in the entrance hall, “about 4 am already.”
Baekhyun nodded and nuzzled into Sehun’s neck, “yeah, sounds good.”

“Do you want me to carry you up?” Sehun grinned, “bridal style?”

Baekhyun frowned at him playfully, “you sure your skinny ass could really carry me all the way up?”

“Is this a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

“Screw you, Byun Baekhyun, you’re so on,” Sehun shifted the boy in his arms so that he could hook his arms under the elder’s knees, and hauled him up. He stumbled slightly, trying to gain his footing.
Baekhyun looped his arms around Sehun’s neck as best as he could while still inside the jumper.
“Hold on tight.”

Sehun made it, of course, smiling triumphantly as he carefully set Baekhyun down on the bed. And as they’d settled in bed for the night, Baekhyun had prodded Sehun’s arms seeming very pleased with his new discovery of actual lean muscle gracing his new partner’s arms instead of just skin and bones.
Sehun laughed and told him, “you’ll be happy with the abs too, then,” throwing his arm over Baekhyun’s hips and closing his eyes. He could feel Baekhyun’s smile as the other laid his head to rest on Sehun’s chest.








--


“Sehun-ah?”

“Joonmyeon-hyung? Wow it’s been a while.”

A familiar laugh filtered through the phone receiver,  "yes it has, are you well?”

“I really am. Actually, hyung, there’s someone I’d like you to, uh, meet.”

Sehun swallowed,
"his name is Byun Baekhyun.”







Fin.







-----

Author note: Okay, to the people who read my last fic and were expecting this one, I'm so sorry about my lateness! I hope you guys see this. I had 2 short stories and a monologue to write for my english language class and I just didn't have the time.
And to whoever's made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading! I hope my writing skills are worthy of your eyes and that (if I manage to write anything soon) you'll stick around for some more.
Bottom half of this fic was me at 1am throwing out fluffy shit, I apologise if it sounded messy.

Oh yeah, and to any American/Canadian/ect readers, if I've used any British dialect specific words, please let me know and I'll, uh, translate for you~ thanks.
jumper= sweater
bent= gay, essentially. (i.e. 'not straight')


 

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