Page 50 of Septembers

Apparently the comfort Theo had been feeling since Chuseok hadn’t transferred to Dae yet. Which was completely understandable, and a thousand percent Theo’s fault. Of course Dae would think this way. Theo had pushed him away for almost a year. Did he really think a week of not pushing him away was going to reverse all that hurt?

They arrived at their house, and after Theo paid, he lifted Dae up to a sitting position, securing his arms around his neck and pulling him out of the car. He considered a piggyback, but without Dae’s complete cooperation, that could’ve gone Very Wrong, Very Fast. Instead, he wrapped his arm around him and they three-legged stumbled inside and up the stairs, then Dae fell onto his bed, pulling Theo down with him.

“Stay with me.”

“You need water.”

“Just this once.” Dae’s lips travelled into a lazy smile. Shit, those dimples killed Theo.

“Be right back, I promise.”

“He promises,” he whispered into his pillow like it was a confidant. “Promises, promises, promises...”

By the time Theo returned with a glass of water, Dae was standing in the middle of the room, his hands out as if surfing. “Everything’s moving.”

Theo had never understood the term ‘cuteness aggression’ before, but now he was sure he’d been hit with a severe case. Drunk Dae was just so cute, he wanted to squish his cheeks. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You don’t remember? We turned our house into a tilt-a-whirl.”

Dae’s face slowly morphed into pure, sassy judgement. “That was dumb. We don’t even live in a circus.”

Theo laughed and held out the water. “Drink this.”

Dae finished it in one go. “Ah, nectar of the gods. I’m gross.” He slammed the glass down and barrelled past Theo to the bathroom. Theo followed, not sure what amusing adventure awaited them but wasn’t disappointed when Dae stepped into the shower and turned on the water, fully clothed, curtain open, the yellow Golden Boys shirt plastered to his torso.

“That’ll do it.” Theo stripped to his boxers and stepped in with him, then adjusted the water so it wasn’t freezing. Dae hummed low and rumbly as Theo wiped his hair off his forehead and held him steady. It wasn’t how Theo had expected the evening to end, but it was refreshing after the sweaty club. Sure, the boys might wonder why his wet underwear and all of Dae’s clothes would be hanging to dry in the shower, but whatever. It was college.

“Come on, arms up.”

Dae obeyed, giggling as Theo took hold of his soaking shirt and lifted it over his head. “Tickles.”

Theo paused while undoing his pants, his fingers on the button, his knuckles on the heat of Dae’s stomach. This was nothing. He was helping a drunk friend out of his wet clothes. He’d seen him in various states of undress before. This wasn’t unusual.

Except Dae’s skin was so close, and the water ran down his torso, hitting the grooves of his muscles and changing course to follow them. Lured in. Trapped.

Shit.

Theo took a step back, trying to find the breath he’d lost, but Dae swayed, reminding him why he was there in the first place. Theo caught him and Dae put his chin on his shoulder, his fingertips travelling up Theo’s back.

And Theo ceased to be.

Breath gone, heart paused, brain vacationing on some island somewhere, far, far away from his actual body.

Every point where their bare skin touched sparked an inferno, sending heat racing to his stomach.

Dae turned his head and nuzzled into him, and then his lips were against his neck. Theo could’ve written it off as an accident, but his kisses were persistent and unmistakable.

Theo’s every molecule was reacting to Dae’s skin against his, to his lips on his throat, to his hands firmly on his back, pulling him closer.

But then all the parts of Theo—his heart, his brain, his soul—came crashing back at once, screaming: Best friend! Drunk! Wrong! Drunk! Dangerous! Not in his right mind! Disastrous! Really, really, fucking drunk!

“Dae, stop.”

Dae turned to stone, suspended in time. Theo gently pushed him back, keeping hold of his arms in case he slipped.

Maybe, by some miracle, Dae had mistaken him for someone else. Or maybe not a person at all—just a body. Just…anyone. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Theo.”