Missing your presence | Yeongyu | Beomjun |

1 | The party |

Author's POV

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It was a Sunday night, and both Beomgyu and Yeonjun got invited to a party that was hosted by one of their classmates of course, they wouldn't miss it.

The music from the party still thumped in the background as they stumbled into the empty, dimly lit hallway. Beomgyu was leaning heavily against the wall, his head tipped back, eyes half-lidded as he fought to stay upright. His laughter, lazy and loose from the alcohol, echoed through the space.

"Beomgyu, you've had too much," Yeonjun muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. He wasn't drunk—he'd made sure of that—but he was far from unaffected. The sight of Beomgyu, tousled and flushed, his lips curving into a lazy grin, was doing things to him he'd promised himself he'd never let surface.

"I'm fine," Beomgyu slurred, his eyes lazily roaming over Yeonjun's face. "I just—needed some air. You're always lookin' out for me, huh?"

Yeonjun swallowed hard, standing just a little too close. He could smell the faint hint of whiskey on Beomgyu's breath, the warmth of him radiating in the small space between them. His hand hovered near Beomgyu's waist, ready to catch him if he swayed, but instead, Beomgyu turned, resting his forehead against Yeonjun's shoulder, his laughter fading into a quiet hum.

"You're good to me," Beomgyu murmured, voice softer now, almost vulnerable. His hands clutched loosely at Yeonjun's shirt, fingers curling as if trying to steady himself.

Yeonjun's chest tightened. This was his best friend. Beomgyu, who he'd been through everything with. The guy who could make him laugh with a single look, who was always by his side no matter what. The one person he couldn't risk losing.

And yet, with Beomgyu leaning against him like this, his breath warm against Yeonjun's neck, he felt his control slipping.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun whispered, his voice strained. "We should... get you back inside."

Beomgyu didn't move. Instead, he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Yeonjun's with a hazy intensity. "I don't wanna go back. Not yet."

Yeonjun's pulse quickened. The way Beomgyu was looking at him—there was something different, something raw. His breath hitched as Beomgyu's fingers brushed against his jaw, trailing slowly until his thumb traced the corner of Yeonjun's mouth.

"You ever wonder..." Beomgyu's voice was barely audible now, his gaze flicking to Yeonjun's lips and back to his eyes, "what it'd be like?"

Yeonjun froze, his heart pounding so loud he was sure Beomgyu could hear it. His mind screamed at him to back away, to remind Beomgyu he was drunk, that this wasn't right. But his body wasn't listening.

Before he could stop himself, Yeonjun leaned in, just enough for their breaths to mingle. He was so close now, his resolve crumbling under the weight of the moment.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun rasped, his hand trembling as he cupped the side of Beomgyu's face. "You're drunk."

Beomgyu's eyes fluttered shut, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he whispered, "but I know what I want."

And then, before Yeonjun could protest, Beomgyu's lips brushed against his—soft at first, tentative, but full of the same reckless abandon that had always defined him. Yeonjun's breath caught in his throat as the kiss deepened, his resolve shattered completely. He kissed back, his hand sliding to the back of Beomgyu's neck, pulling him closer, tasting the alcohol on his lips but feeling something far more intoxicating beneath it.