Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
~~~
Ryu finished showering when the phone rang, showing a number that called almost daily. Despite his tough act, his mouth twitched upward. His voice was a growl.
“Why the hell are you calling so late? I’m going to bed!”
The line was silent, only faint music and rowdy laughter, like Sun was in a crowd. Ryu called again.
“Sun! Wrong number or what?” Irritation grew as Sun stayed quiet. His sharp tone drew a laugh.
[“Mia, so fierce… shh, don’t be mad, Miaaaaa, hehe!”]
“Funny, huh? You drunk?” Ryu’s voice turned grim, certain. The drugged-up laugh confirmed it. Sun’s slurred voice followed.
[“Noooo, Sunny’s not druuunk… who’s drunk? Not me!”]
“How much did you drink?”
[“Two shots… and… beer… two glasses, yeahhh!”]
Ryu ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. How could a first-year, three months in, have so many drinking buddies—peers and seniors? What do they think my romantic partner is, a drinking mascot?
Wait, what did I call Sun?
Snapping from wild thoughts, Ryu frowned, speaking sternly.
“You’re drunk. Go to your dorm.” Not the first time Sun called drunk, so Ryu shooed him as usual. The drunker Sun got, the more annoying fucker he became. A nuisance. Normally, Sun would slur, “Okayyy, muah, good night, Phîi Ryu, dream of me!” Not now.
[“Can’t go back… ugh, so dizzy, Mia…”]
“Who told you to drink that much? I don’t know, get to your dorm! I’m sleeping!” Ryu snapped, though his chest thumped oddly, almost worried. Never one to yield, he hissed like Sunny’s kitten.
“Get your friends to take you back and sleep it off, Sun! Don’t let me hear you passed out somewhere, mumbling my name, or you’ll meet my foot!” The attractive one threatened, hung up, and tossed the phone onto the bed. Frowning, he sensed Sun was off.
“Damn it!” he grumbled, but grabbed the phone and called back.
[“Ryu, my mannn… I’m done for…”]
“Where are you? Name the restaurant in two seconds. Now!”
When drunk Sun slurred the restaurant’s name, Ryu grabbed his keys and sped off to get him.
Why the hell do I care?
Soon, Ryu stood, hands on temples, staring at Sun hugging a flowerpot outside the restaurant, looking like he wanted to kick something. Kicking this drunk would feel great.
“Sun, get up,” Ryu said, nudging his shoulder hard, voice heavy. Sun’s bloodshot eyes opened, grinning dopily.
“An angel, huh? Here for Sunny? Nope, my Mia’s coming… can’t go with an angel…” He wagged a finger, fully drunk, making Ryu clench his fists. Not the “angel” compliment or “Mia” talk angered him—it was Sun being a burden.
Grab.
“Back!” Ryu barked, pulling Sun’s arm over his shoulder. Sun stood, swaying, nearly toppling Ryu, who cursed.
“Ugh… smells like my Mia… not an angel…” Sun mumbled.
“Good Lord, walk straight and stop nuzzling my neck! You’re heavy as a buffalo and drunk!” Ryu gritted his teeth, dragging Sun to the car. Getting a drunk to recognize his rescuer was tough. He planned to drop Sun at his dorm but didn’t know his room. Reluctantly, he took him to his place.
Hauling the drunk onto the sofa, Ryu panted, face flushed.
“If you get this drunk again, I’m not picking you up!” Ryu shouted, glaring at the Faculty Moon—shirt unbuttoned, wrinkled, reeking of booze, hair like he’d wrestled a dog. His yelling stirred Sun, who struggled to open his eyes.
“Mia… so fierce…” Sun slurred.
“Fierce, my ass,” Ryu snapped, sighing. “I’ll get you a shirt. Don’t puke.” He grabbed a T-shirt, but in seconds, Sun rolled off the sofa, sprawling on the floor, shirt fully unbuttoned.
“Get on the sofa, or you’ll catch a cold!” Ryu yanked the slightly taller guy, but Sun clung to a small table’s leg, refusing to move, making Ryu swear to let him sleep like a dog next time.
“I’m done with you!”
Grab
“Hey!” Before Ryu could throw the shirt, Sun grabbed his hand, pulling him down. They collided, Sun wincing, glossy eyes blinking as Ryu looked up to curse. Their eyes met—Sun’s sweet, alcohol-glazed gaze locked on.
“Phîi Ryu,” Sun slurred, making Ryu want to pull away. But…
“I want to hug… kiss… catch a fever all over…” Sun spilled his heart, hands on Ryu’s backside, gripping. Ryu’s eyes widened, trying to pry them off, but…
Whoosh
Sun flipped him onto the floor. Ryu’s heart skipped, cheeks flushing as those glossy eyes stared meaningfully. The hands kneaded, heating Ryu’s body.
Sun’s flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, almost multiplying, made him smile wider, saying sincerely, “I want to take you so bad I could die.”
He buried his face in Ryu’s fragrant neck, stubble grazing skin, making Ryu shiver. He shook his head, pushing Sun’s shoulders lightly, frowning, annoyed yet stirred as their lower bodies rubbed.
Grab
“Smells good… soft… ah, heaven…” Sun mumbled, kissing and licking Ryu’s neck, weakening him.
“I don’t want you; you reek of booze,” Ryu protested, squirming, but Sun’s grip was tight. Warm lips trailed down, hands groping, sending shivers. Sun’s hands slipped under Ryu’s shirt and pants, touching everywhere, making Ryu…
Moan.
“You… ah… not there…” Ryu looked down, seeing Sun grab his chest, kneading as if there were something to squeeze, fingers flicking, making him tilt his head back.
Should I let him? I’ve been horny for nights. Doing it myself doesn’t feel like Sun’s touch. But if he doesn’t stop…
Ryu questioned himself, tangled with the drunk. His body yielded, hands under Sun’s student shirt, touching back. His mind wrestled—wanting to give in but not be taken, just wanting Sun to do something.
“Phîi Ryu, Phîi Ryu, mmm, grab, slurp…” Sun’s sucking echoed, low moans feeling good.
Sun looked up, smiling—a smile making Ryu think, If I lose my back gate, screw it, if he smiles like that and says…
“I like you so damn much.”
So, Ryu, half out of his mind, said, “Take me, Sun. I give up.”
You don’t know till you try. Might not hurt.
Ryu closed his eyes, cheeks burning, wanting to slit his throat for abandoning manhood, willingly paving the way for this nuisance. Sun grinned wider, leaning to kiss soft lips.
The kiss should’ve been intense, passionate, but… it was still.
Ryu opened his eyes slowly, confused why the shit-lizard stopped. He saw Sun’s eyes shut tight, lips pressed against his, and…
Snore
He was asleep! The goose passed out!
Thud
When Ryu pushed lightly, Sun rolled off, sprawling lifelessly, out cold. Ryu lay stunned, mouth open, disbelieving the joke.
“Sun,” he called, turning, uncertain.
“Sun…”
Snore
Ryu closed his eyes for two seconds, breathed deeply, and stood. He grabbed the shirt for Sun, turned back, and…
Crash
“You shit-lizard Sun! I was ready to let you take me, and you sleep on my face? Go die, you damned-animal!” Ryu kicked Sun hard, making him flinch, curl up, and groan, too drunk to speak. Furious, face red, Ryu threw the shirt, grabbed a pillow, and hurled anything nearby at the guy who left him hanging, angry and humiliated.
“I was ready! You despicable-person! Don’t dream of getting with me again!” Venting at the unresponsive drunk, Ryu’s hair was a mess, clothes disheveled. He stormed to his bedroom, ignoring the drunk.
Bang
The door slammed, locked tight. Ryu threw himself onto the bed, frustrated, hands ruffling his hair, admitting he’d never felt this humiliated.
“What do I do with this hard-on? What do I do?!” Ryu growled, eyeing the bulge, teeth gritted. He slipped a hand inside, closed his eyes, and…
“How many nights have I helped myself because of you, Sun? Because… you…”
If Sun were soberer, he’d know he missed his greatest desire. But a drunk is a drunk, passed out pathetically outside, while Ryu, inside, was angry, resentful, yet… moaning the name of the one he was mad at.
***
“Three days, and I still can’t figure it out.”
Dear typically arrived at university early, friends teasing if he had a side job opening the building. He’d sit at his usual table with snacks or games. Today, the little one was grim, engrossed in internet content about…
What to do if a third hand enters your relationship.
Okay, he was dim-wit, unable to figure it out. Reading didn’t help—most advice was for straight couples where guys played along, especially with persistent young women. I’m a guy with a male romantic partner. What website solves that?
“The more I read, the more paranoid I get. What if Porsche falls for that panty-thief?” Dear muttered, frustrated. Some sites suggested showering your romantic partner with attention. What do I have to offer?
His brooding caught Oat’s eye, another early arrival.
The senior froze, spotting the junior he’d avoided for weeks. He wanted to talk but knew Dear had a romantic partner, so he stayed away, hoping to feel better. Seeing Dear’s stressed face, his heart felt… concern.
You’re as dim-witted as Dear’s friends say, Oat.
“Dear… you okay?”
“Huh? Phîi Oat, hi! Man, it’s been ages!” Dear jumped, looking up, flashing a wide smile that warmed Oat’s heart.
I missed that bright smile, those clear eyes.
“Yeah, a while… What’re you doing?”
“Uh, nothing, haha!” Oat’s nod at the phone made Dear flip it face-down, tucking it onto his lap suspiciously, offering a dry smile.
“Phîi Oat’s here for class, huh?” He changed the subject nervously. Oat, concerned, nodded, smiling back.
“I’m always early.”
“Why haven’t we met? It’s been… one, two… three weeks?” Dear counted, relieved to avoid the phone. Oat nearly sighed.
“Since midterms.”
“Right! I haven’t seen you. Different buildings, maybe. I used to see you more,” Dear said, tilting his head, unsure. He hadn’t thought of Oat until now. His demeanor was obvious, making Oat force a smile.
“I’ve been in other buildings. What’s stressing you?” Oat asked, setting books down. Dear made space, answering casually.
“Waiting for Sun and Shin, but those bloody fuckers aren’t up… Sit, Phîi Oat.” The little one spoke kindly, seeing Oat standing. No intention of giving false hope, but for someone with a crush, it was enough to crumble resolve. Oat sat.
“Breakfast? My treat.”
“For real? You’d treat me? Nah, I ate. Bumming off you wouldn’t be fun,” Dear laughed, his fair face charming, making Oat smile, wanting to see that bright smile longer.
“Why so early? You could come closer to class.”
“The senior I live with leaves early for work, so I ride with him. More like he forces me. Says I’ll lose my looks if the wind hits me on the bike. For my charm, I come early,” Dear said candidly, grinning as he thought of his ride. Oat’s smile faded.
The person Dear mentioned felt special. Dear’s cheeks flushed, scratching them shyly.
If you blushed for me, I’d be happy, but it’s someone else. Oat looked away.
“So that’s it.”
The little one quieted, sensing Oat’s mood shift. Clueless, he figured he’d talked too much, toning down, eyes flicking to Oat.
Oat’s older, good-looking, must’ve dealt with this.
“Phîi Oat!”
“Yes?” Oat responded, turning curiously, adjusting his expression, easing Dear.
“Can I ask something?”
Oat hesitated, glancing at Dear’s phone, then breathed. “If I can answer.”
“Hypothetically… If you had a romantic partner you loved, and their ex came back, swearing to take them… what would you do? Not me, my friend asked!” Dear rushed, cheeks blazing, betraying his own problem.
Oat froze at “loved.” His hands clenched under the table, burying disappointment.
“Why ask me, not your friends?”
“Those dog-mouths? No way! Sun’s psycho, Shin’s a heartless-person. They’d mock my… friend to death. You’re better, haha!” Dear laughed dryly, making Oat, avoiding love talk, unable to brush it off—not with those hopeful eyes.
“Stressed much?”
“Stressed! No, not me, for my friend!” Dear flinched, looking at the handsome senior who saw through him. Oat looked away, speaking flatly.
“If the person in the middle doesn’t play along, it’s pointless, no matter what the ex does.”
“But what if the ex is so persistent you want to punch them?” Dear blurted, leaning in.
“Does the person in the middle play along?”
“No…” Dear shouted, but internet advice weakened his voice. “…I don’t know.”
“I don’t either, but it’s up to the person in the middle. Ask them clearly what they think and how they’ll handle it.” Oat stood, grabbing his books. His sharp eyes glanced at Dear’s thoughtful face. Before leaving to escape the heart-squeezing topic, he slipped. “If I were your romantic partner, I wouldn’t stress you like this… I’m off.”
Oat strode away, leaving Dear staring, confused. His brain hadn’t processed Oat’s words, only that his gaze felt… odd, making Dear frown.
Did Oat… like me? Nah, you’re delusional, Dear! He shook his head. No way a former Head wák, campus heartthrob, liked him. Bet Sun’s head, no chance!
If his friends heard, they’d say Sun’s head was bet to death.
Dear sank into Oat’s words: It’s up to the person in the middle.
“I trust Porsche, but I’m scared he might… slip,” Dear admitted. He didn’t know what Khun Patty could do. He was young, no match for her wiles, especially since she and Porsche had history.
Thud
“No! I’ll trust Porsche. I have got to stop Khun Patty!”
Exhausted, Dear slumped, never imagining he’d stress over a young woman stealing his romantic partner.
***
Late at night, Dear sat cross-legged on Porsche’s bed, brows furrowed, debating asking if Porsche saw her.
“Why do I have to deal with this?!” He threw himself onto the bed, pounding the pillow.
“Don’t want to be a nag… but not asking makes me dim-wit… Porsche said there’s nothing!” He grabbed a pillow, rolling, brain tangled, hair a mess, when… a message pinged.
“Hm?” Not his phone, so…
Whoosh
Dear shot up, hearing the shower. He crawled to Porsche’s side, grabbed his phone, glanced at the bathroom, and tapped.
Unknown number.
Not saved, but with nosiness and jealousy flaring, Dear, who never snooped, punched the code, eyes fixed. They widened bigger than goose eggs.
You shit-lizard!
Dear screamed internally at the message: Good night, Phîi Porsche, from the one you called Nong ♥.
Nong, my ass, with a buffalo-sized heart!
Though called dim-wit, Dear knew who it was. Lips pursed, brain racing… Put it back? Pretend ignorance? But the message was read; Porsche would know.
“What do I do?”
Shhh
The shower stopped, spiking Dear’s panic. Hands trembling, he deleted the message, eyes wide, then dove to place the phone back, leaping to the bed’s center.
Squeak
Safe!
“What’re you doing, wrestling my pillow?” Porsche stepped out, chuckling, seeing Dear clutch the pillow, face buried, avoiding eye contact. His heart pounded, feeling he’d done something awful.
I never thought I’d do this. My hands moved first!
“No games tonight?”
“N-no! I’m sleepy, yawn,” Dear crawled under the blanket, eyes shut, back turned. Porsche raised a brow, turned off the light, slipped under, pulling Dear’s waist close.
“Your heart’s racing.”
“C-cause you’re hugging me!” It’s because I deleted your message!
Porsche, pleased, kissed Dear’s cheek loudly, settled, and closed his eyes.
“Good night, Dear.”
“G-good night, Phîi,” Dear stammered, sweating, eyes shut, fearing Porsche would notice. Seeing him calm, Dear exhaled, convincing himself: Was I wrong? I have rights as his romantic partner.
Easing his guilt, Dear didn’t realize he shared a bit of Jae Dream’s bloodline.
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