Chapter 3
Hana tried to get the planning back on track.
She and Sora outlined a basic storyline for 'Lion Cole,' the heavy-weight, Brock Savage-esque wrestler, son of Marcus Cole come to claim his father's legacy, cruelly opposed by the CEO of the company and forced to battle through all his best wrestlers, a series of corporate hoops, and an actual bear in order to get a shot at the Championship belt.
Seojun said nothing for twenty minutes, arms tight over his chest like he wanted to cover himself, and embarrassment gnawed at Minjae until he thought he might cry.
"I'm gonna go," he said eventually, quiet enough that Sora had to ask him to repeat himself.
"I'm going," he said, a little louder, "I feel pretty useless right now.
Can we meet up later?"
He skipped the next group meeting.
He'd rushed out of the first one so fast that he'd left his notebook behind, which Seojun wordlessly handed back to him in class the next day, expression unreadable.
Minjae quickly averted his eyes.
Minjae couldn't take part in the class discussion.
He went back to his room shaky and unhappy.
When the group meeting rolled around that afternoon he didn't go, just curled up on his bed, anxious and tired, guilty for not going, relieved for not being there, embarrassed by how terribly obvious he was being.
Seojun might tell Hana and Sora what had happened.
They'd treat him like a freak for the rest of the semester.
He'd gotten so tired of that.
The bed felt too short, with his head on the pillow, his toes hung off the end.
He rolled over and curled up.
He wanted Seojun wrapped around his back, lips on his hair, telling him that it was okay.
Pathetic.
Seojun, who never wanted anything to do with him.
Poor Seojun.
Minjae had gotten a single-person room for a reason.
The extra five-hundred dollars a year for a room to his own was worth every penny on nights when he just needed a couple hours alone without the hassle of sexiling a roommate with no second person to use an excuse.
Sometimes he just wanted to curl up with a hot pink vibrator and silk panties and just feel soft for a little while behind a locked door.
He wanted that now.
He wanted more than that.
He wanted strong arms and a deep voice, and he wanted to be pretty for someone.
He got his silk, lilac boy-shorts out of his dresser, tight and soft on his body, and hugged a pillow to try to chase away the fidgeting discomfort gnawing at the warmth licking steadily up from the silk on his skin.
This usually ended in him painfully hard with two fingers in himself and his face flushed and hidden in the pillow.
He only need to wait.
It didn't come.
Seojun stayed in his mind.
The silk hugged him uselessly.
The bed was so warm if he stayed still but too cold if he stretched out.
He woke up with sunlight angling sleepily down through his curtains and someone knocking on his door.
He'd only been asleep thirty minutes.
He had just enough awareness to pull a shirt and some jeans on over the lilac silk, though he took a minute to pet it affectionately first, and then opened the door.
It was Seojun, glorious and broad-shouldered slouching, and so lovely that Minjae's breath fizzled out of him before he could help it.
He was already several paces down the hall, but he whipped around the moment Minjae's door opened.
Minjae actually jumped, just a little jolt when their eyes met, and Seojun tensed up like he'd scared a small animal, hands open reassuringly.
"I'm not going to grab you again.
Don't worry."
Minjae mouth went dry, nervous shivers racing down his arms.
Seojun looked so fucking good in dark green flannel.
He shouldn't be in front of Minjae's door.
Why would he be there?
"Hey, um, sorry.
I know I missed the group meeting.
I'm sorry.
I don't know why I didn't come.
I couldn't.
I'm sorry." He cringed into the doorframe as Seojun took a couple tentative steps closer, hands still up cautiously.
"And sorry about, you know, making it weird the other day," he said, voice fading out.
Seojun shook his head.
"Not a big deal.
I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.
I should've asked before, you know, throwing you over my shoulder like a corpse.
You seem kind of messed up.
I'm really sorry."
Minjae stammered, then shrugged.
"It didn't bother you at all?
I thought..." He knocked his head gently against the doorframe.
"Wow, I'm just pathetic."
"Min, no."
I'm really sorry.
I know how I am.
I have these kinks and I try to hide them because they're weird, and when things happen sometimes I get embarrassed.
And then apparently I hide in my room instead of facing my problems."
Seojun shuffled his unnecessarily big boots around for a minute, then pulled Minjae into a very unexpected hug.
They were the same height, but Minjae felt awkwardly tall, too big in his body.
It was still so warm, so sweet and protective, like Seojun was trying to wrap his shoulders around him.
"Stop looking so defeated.
It sucks.
I don't get it.
What was the kink that I got you with the other night?"
Minjae had melted into his arms, breathless, taken aback by his brashness.
Choi Seojun was hugging him and he could feel the hard rise of his chest pressing against his own.
It wasn't fair.
"I think I like being carried.
It's a strength thing, I think?
Manhandling?
I didn't mean to drag you into—"
Seojun locked all his muscles, turning into a hard wall around him.
Minjae shivered.
"Oh yeah.
That's," he got a lung-full of Seojun's scent, laundry detergent with a little bit of heady cologne and something human and dark.
"Fuck."
Seojun's cheek brushed so lightly against his.
"That's not weird.
That's cute as fuck."
"It is?" Minjae squeaked.
Seojun just hummed and kissed the corner of Minjae's lips.
Minjae's knees shook, chest constricting hard.
He hadn't been kissed in ages, not by someone who mattered.
"This is okay, right?" Seojun murmured.
"You like me, right?
Am I reading this wrong?"
Minjae choked, clinging to his shirt, fizzy excitement climbing up his throat.
"God, you dumb jock.
You're so hot.
Why didn't you tell me you kissed boys?"
Seojun giggled.
"Didn't think it mattered.
Didn't expect you to be interested.
You're all so much smarter than me."
Minjae pulled Seojun's face away for a moment.
"You're not stupid though."
"I make shit grades."
"You're impressive in other ways.
Please kiss me again."
Seojun smiled happily and kissed him again, a soft peck to the left side of his bottom lip, arms still latched around Minjae's back.
Minjae pressed back with a groan, lips sloppy and needy.
"Come in here," he said, pulling Seojun in and shutting the door.
Seojun shouldered him up against the wall, forearms flat behind his shoulders, boxing him in, lips and tongue slick and soft against Minjae's mouth.
"I don't know much about you," Minjae murmured.
"Business major," Seojun said.
"Of course you are," Minjae said.
"I'm a psych major."
"You're so precious."
Minjae wiggled happily against him.
"You're amazing," he sighed.
"You're so fucking hot.
Oh my god.
When you picked me up.
You're so strong."
Seojun's hands slid under his clothes, thumbs petting his stomach, palms sliding over his sides, fingers dipping over Minjae's ass, testing.
He gasped, jittery with want.
Seojun's hands did drew back off his jeans, one running up over his chest, the other tight around his back again.
"Sorry," he murmured, "I keep forgetting to ask.
I'm bad at this."
"Sorry?
You're fine.
Seojun smiled against his lips and murmured, "Min," crushing in closer as Minjae panted and clung to his wide biceps, chest pressing desperately upwards into Seojun's hand where his fingers left pulsing trails over his skin.
"Please," he murmured.
"Please.
"Are you begging already?" Seojun asked, sounding surprised.
"Fuck, it's been so long and you're so hot.
Seojun, please."
Seojun pulled away for a moment, yanked the beanie off his hair and ran a hand through it, looking intently at Minjae, who sagged, panting against the wall.
Seojun was there, in his room, lips red and wet and fucking kissing him, dark hair swept up off his forehead and eyes hard as they took Minjae in, panting and needy against the wall of his own bedroom.
His knees got a little shaky.
"You want this?" Seojun said.
"It's a little sudden."
Blood pounded through Minjae's head.
His lips tingled.
He could still feel the brick-wall feeling of Seojun's chest against his.
I want this."