Backroom Deal

When Jongwoo goes to Jieun’s funeral, he tells Seokyoon he’ll be away overnight. Seokyoon says, ‘Okay,’ and then he says, ‘You don’t want me to come with you?’

If there’s desperation in the question, Jongwoo doesn’t acknowledge on it. He just says, no, it’s fine, as if there’s anything fine about him right now.

Seokyoon doesn’t press it.

He finds, though, coming home that night to an apartment that really truly is empty, that Jongwoo’s absence slides dread over him.

If Jongwoo did move back home, would it matter so much? Easy come, easy go; Seokyoon would get over it. It wasn’t as if he’d known Jongwoo that long. It wasn’t as if he even meant that much to Jongwoo. Jongwoo would go home, and Seokyoon would be a reminder of a painful time and Jongwoo would set the memory of him aside.

And without Jongwoo, Moonjo would lose interest. And it’s not as if things would be so different as to when Seokyoon moved first to Seoul, except there’s no way he’s ever going to feel so intensely about anything in his life again. About anyone. If Jongwoo leaves, he’s never getting that back.

It's that premonition of loss that makes Seokyoon message Moonjo.

Jongwoo’s at the funeral, he says. Said he’d be away overnight. He stares at the phone screen, and thinks that he should let Moonjo make the next move.

Instead he finds himself writing: Want to come over?

What the hell is he doing? He should take the words back, go out and find a bar instead. Chat up a stranger, if he feels so abandoned. Jongwoo has just gone to the funeral of the woman Moonjo murdered.

But then Moonjo writes back, See you in half an hour, and Seokyoon can only feel elated. Relieved and elated.

He makes a quick run-around tidying the house, then checking there’s beer and wondering if he should get snacks. Or should he take a shower instead? Is that presumptuous? He’s only assuming Moonjo will want to have sex. It’s that or he’ll kill him at last.

The shower wins out over snacks; Seokyoon knows he’s not inviting Moonjo over to hang out. His hair is still damp when Moonjo shows up, a little later than he said. Not that Seokyoon is counting the minutes.

‘You came!’ Seokyoon says, when he opens the door. He’s not going to kid himself that Moonjo has made an effort to dress up, but he looks good.

Seokyoon’s life would probably be better if he weren’t a sucker for a pretty face.

‘I was surprised to hear from you so soon,’ Moonjo says. He lifts the bag he’s carrying – he’s brought drinks too. Seokyoon takes the bag off him and goes to unpack it on the bench.

‘Sorry to bother you so much,’ Seokyoon says. ‘I guess I’m not used to an empty house.’

‘Scared to be alone?’ Moonjo asks.

‘Not scared exactly,’ Seokyoon says. He opens one of the beers and hands it to Moonjo; heads to the couch with his own. Moonjo watches him a moment, assessing him, before he comes to join him.

Seokyoon wonders if Moonjo does this often. Visits with people. Seokyoon knows so little about him.

‘I’d never lived alone before I moved to Seoul. And then … well, a place like that isn’t really living alone, is it?’

‘It’s not.’

‘Why do you live in a place like that?’ Seokyoon asks. ‘I mean, it’s not like you don’t have a real job.’

Moonjo smiles, and takes a sip of his beer. ‘It’s convenient,’ he says. ‘But you know, I have been wondering lately if it’s time to move on.’

Moving on.

‘Jongwoo said something,’ Seokyoon says. ‘The other day. He said he was thinking about moving home.’

Moonjo’s gaze is suddenly on him, sharp as a knife. Seokyoon feels thick tongued; he’s not sure why he’s sharing this. Does he want Moonjo to make Jongwoo stay? Does he want Moonjo to stay instead?

‘That would be a shame,’ Moonjo says. There’s a cool note in his voice that wasn’t there before.

‘But … maybe it would be for the best?’ It’s not that Seokyoon wants to think that; he just feels he has to say it out loud.

‘He’ll suffocate,’ Moonjo says. ‘He’s not meant for some small town.’

‘Why are you so interested in him?’ Seokyoon asks.

‘Because,’ Moonjo says, ‘it’s like he’s in a cocoon right now. He doesn’t know what he wants. But he’s getting closer.’ Moonjo leans back. ‘He’ll emerge soon, I think.’

Moonjo takes a long draught of his drink. And Seokyoon watches – Moonjo’s lips, Moonjo’s throat.

‘That’s a pretty way to put it,’ Seokyoon says. ‘I thought maybe you just liked him.’ He looks away again, taking a drink quickly.

‘Is that why you invited me over?’ Moonjo asks. The cool note has left his voice; he’s amused. ‘To ask me if I like Jongwoo?’

‘No,’ Seokyoon says. He drinks again. ‘I just thought … I mean, you don’t want Jongwoo to leave either, right?’

Moonjo’s lip quirks. ‘You think we should work together.’

Seokyoon flushes. ‘I know … I know you killed his girlfriend, and Jongwoo won’t forgive that.’

‘You have, though.’

‘What?’

Moonjo leans in. ‘You think I killed her, and yet you invited me here. Why are you so interested in us, Kang Seokyoon?’

Us. Moonjo and Jongwoo. Seokyoon wants to deny it, but he can’t. Moonjo is too close to him; it flusters and distracts him.

‘I was never very good at liking the people I should,’ Seokyoon says. ‘I mean … you’re both out of my league, aren’t you?’

Moonjo laughs, open mouthed.

‘What?’ Seokyoon says. ‘Why is that funny?’

Moonjo shakes his head. ‘What would I have to do,’ Moonjo says, ‘to make you stop liking me?’

Seokyoon’s mind goes blank.

Moonjo takes Seokyoon’s chin in his hand, turns his head toward him. Runs his fingers to Seokyoon’s pulse point. ‘I already hurt you that much.’

Seokyoon’s mouth can’t make words.

‘If I kill you,’ Moonjo says, ‘will you stop then?’

Maybe it’s danger that Seokyoon is attracted to. Because when Moonjo talks like this, he gets turned on. He can feel it in the flush of his skin and the way his dick stirs, in the tension of the air between them.

‘I won’t stop,’ Seokyoon says at last.

Moonjo kisses him. Seokyoon yields his mouth right away; he wants Moonjo to devour him. And more. Licks back against him, and grabs Moonjo’s shirt in his hands to hold onto. Moonjo kisses him thoroughly, and his teeth tug Seokyoon’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He does it deliberately.

When Moonjo pulls back, Seokyoon can see the bright red of his blood on his lips.

‘Shall we go to bed?’ Moonjo says.

Slowly, Seokyoon nods.

Some part of him knows that this isn’t about him. Moonjo isn’t seducing him for his own sake. Rather, it is because the bedroom that Seokyoon opens the door to is the bedroom that Seokyoon shares with Jongwoo. That’s all.

They enter in, and Moonjo shuts the door behind them.

Seokyoon sits on the bed, but Moonjo stays standing. Undoes his shirt. Leisurely, with his eyes on Seokyoon, who swallows and makes no moves of his own. He finds himself looking for the scars Moonjo had mentioned the first time they’d met. Knife wounds; Seokyoon has never seen the scars from a stabbing, but he’s sure that’s what they are.

Seokyoon wets his lips, and then he begins to undress himself.

He suddenly remembers the time they met at the hotel, and Moonjo took his tooth – Moonjo had undressed him too, and Seokyoon doesn’t even know if that’s the only thing he did. Not that it would matter either way. Moonjo can violate him however he wants. Whatever Seokyoon has to offer, he can have.

Even fucking him on Jongwoo’s bed.

Especially fucking him on Jongwoo’s bed.

Moonjo approaches with eyes like a panther; Seokyoon wants to bare his throat. Moonjo could bite him there, or kiss him – or close his hands around his flesh and squeeze. Seokyoon wants it all.

Moonjo climbs on to the bed, straddling him, and then he does take Seokyoon by the neck, and shoves him down against the bed. He leans over him, bends his head to Seokyoon’s ear. His hand is still on Seokyoon’s neck, but he doesn’t squeeze.

‘Does Jongwoo hurt you too?’ Moonjo asks.

Seokyoon hesitates. ‘Sometimes,’ he says. ‘Not … not enough.’

Moonjo smiles. And instead of hurting him, caresses Seokyoon’s neck, those long fingers kissing his skin.

And then Moonjo smacks Seokyoon across the face. Open-palmed, but with force. The shock goes through Seokyoon like a wave; his cheek stings, and he blinks away tears. He doesn’t turn his head back, but he does his eyes drift back to Moonjo.

Moonjo is aflame. He grasps Seokyoon’s jaw and Seokyoon thinks he wants to slap him again, but instead he sticks his fingers in Seokyoon’s mouth, stretching it open. He takes Seokyoon’s tongue in his fingers and forces Seokyoon to stick it out. And then climbs on top of Seokyoon, positioning himself above him so that he can press the head of his cock against Seokyoon’s tongue.

Seokyoon licks, mouths at him, but Moonjo doesn’t push in. Even though it seems like it must take more effort not to. Moonjo keeps his cock in his hand, as he rubs against Seokyoon’s tongue – and then, Seokyoon thinks, Moonjo means to put his hand inside as well as his dick, and Seokyoon’s not sure his jaw can take that.

But it does.

‘Fuck,’ Moonjo says, as he withdraws. Seokyoon has never heard him swear. ‘I should have brought my equipment.’

Seokyoon thinks he might be drooling; he wants to wipe his mouth but he can’t with Moonjo on top of him like this. Moonjo pushes in again, fingers and cock. Not fucking him, but rutting into his mouth. It feels weird, more invasive than anything he’s done before, even more than pulling Seokyoon’s tooth. And then, Moonjo had done something to Seokyoon first. Drugged him. Now, Seokyoon’s had one beer and he’s letting Moonjo do this just for kicks.

But Seokyoon’s dick isn’t getting any softer.

He decides to push it. He grabs hold of Moonjo’s ass, kneading it firmly in his hands; Moonjo is leaning his weight on one arm and he shudders when Seokyoon touches him. Seokyoon lets one hand fall between his own legs, so that he can squeeze his own dick –

And then Jongwoo calls his name from the front room.

Seokyoon stops everything, turns his head from Moonjo’s dick. Moonjo looks at him quizzically, but then he hears it too – Jongwoo moving in the next room.

‘Shit,’ Seokyoon says. When Jongwoo calls his name again, he calls back, ‘Yeah, I’m home!’ and he pushes Moonjo out the way to stumble to his feet. He’s not even sure what he means to do – it’s not like he can barricade the door. There’s nowhere for Moonjo to hide.

‘I thought you were staying the night!’ Seokyoon casts about for his trousers, but he doesn’t have time to get them on before Jongwoo opens the door.

‘It was too miserable,’ Jongwoo is saying, but the words cut off when he sees them. Seokyoon naked and guilty faced; Moonjo shameless on the bed.

‘What the hell,’ Jongwoo says. Out of nowhere, he shoves Seokyoon – only it’s not out of nowhere, is it? Seokyoon has done the worst thing it is possible for him to do.

‘Look, hyung, I can explain –’ Explain how, Seokyoon doesn’t know, and Moonjo knows it, because he laughs.

Jongwoo looks at Moonjo on the bed.

‘Seokyoon was lonely,’ Moonjo says. ‘You shouldn’t leave your pets alone.’

Jongwoo pushes past Seokyoon, who isn’t quite willing to get between them right then. He punches Moonjo in the face.

‘You bastard,’ he shouts. ‘You murderer.’

Moonjo lets him get in a couple of punches, and then he grabs Jongwoo by the throat, and Jongwoo freezes.

‘You want to do this now?’ Moonjo says. While Jongwoo is frozen, he rounds him and pushes him down to the bed. ‘Babe, your timing is impeccable.’

‘Wait,’ Seokyoon says, ‘can’t we just wait a minute –’

‘Why wait?’

Jongwoo looks up at Moonjo from the bed, but he doesn’t look defiant or angry like Seokyoon would expect. He looks … lost. Like he doesn’t know how he got here. Like he doesn’t know how to get home.

Seokyoon is the worst friend in the world. He’s the worst friend-sometimes-lover in the world, but Jongwoo isn’t even looking at him to yell at him and get mad.

Moonjo takes a step forward. Jongwoo doesn’t move, except that Seokyoon sees him grab a fistful of duvet in his hand, his knuckles white.

Seokyoon didn’t mean for this.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Jongwoo doesn’t raise his voice. He sounds, instead, like he’s speaking from a distance. From however far away it is he’s locked his heart.

Before Moonjo says anything more, Seokyoon sits sideways on the bed and puts his hand over Jongwoo’s white one, and says, ‘Hyung, look at me. It’s my fault. I invited him.’

Jongwoo blinks. He doesn’t turn to look at Seokyoon, but maybe he’s not looking at Moonjo any more either. He’s not looking at anything.

Whatever it is Moonjo thinks of Seokyoon’s interception, he doesn’t interrupt.

‘I know it was wrong,’ Seokyoon says. ‘Please look at me. You can yell at me if you want. Or hit me. I don’t mind. Just … don’t look like that, okay?’

He squeezes Jongwoo’s hand, who doesn’t respond to the touch. But he says, ‘It was her funeral.’

‘I know,’ Seokyoon says, and he wraps his arms around Jongwoo, around his small body. He’s aware of Moonjo watching him, the consideration they’re both under.

It’s like he’s performing. Moonjo could walk off at any time. But Seokyoon’s not sure that walking off doesn’t still mean death for someone.

Jongwoo’s ex, being put into the flames.

Jongwoo’s boss, abandoned who knows where. Because Jongwoo asked Moonjo to help him.

Seokyoon doesn’t know what passed between the two of them, then. That’s something he’ll never be privy too. But now …

Moonjo sits on the bed on Jongwoo’s other side. He catches Seokyoon’s eye. Reminding him his patience has a time limit.

‘Hyung,’ Seokyoon says, and pulls Jongwoo closer in his arms. He presses a kiss against his neck, and Jongwoo makes a small noise in the back of his throat. Not a protest, so Seokyoon presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t expect Jongwoo to respond. Not yet.

Is it wrong, for Seokyoon to want him like this? In this sort of situation? Not just because Seokyoon and Moonjo were interrupted.

Again he kisses him, fuller on the lips. And Jongwoo, however reluctantly, returns the kiss. Seokyoon caresses his face, and kisses him, and wonders if Jongwoo might break. He still won’t look at Seokyoon, and so Seokyoon looks at Moonjo instead, who will meet his eyes.

Then Moonjo reaches over, and he grabs Seokyoon round the back of the neck and pulls him toward him. He kisses Seokyoon right in front of Jongwoo, and not so chastely.

And Seokyoon, whilst being kissed, looks to see Jongwoo’s reaction.

Jongwoo looks annoyed.

‘I know what you’re doing,’ he says.

Moonjo breaks the kiss, but he leaves his hand on Seokyoon’s neck. ‘If you don’t like it,’ Moonjo says, ‘you can do something else.’ He tightens his fingers at the base of Seokyoon’s scalp and yanks his head back. Exposes his throat. ‘Seokyoon here won’t even fight back, will you, Seokyoon?’

‘It’s not him,’ Jongwoo says. ‘It’s you.’

‘Ah.’ The smile widens on Moonjo’s face. ‘I will fight back.’ He considers Seokyoon. ‘Just let me finish with him first.’

‘Wait –’

‘Do what you want,’ Jongwoo says.

‘Hyung!’

‘What?’ Jongwoo says. ‘You’re the one who invited him. Why should I care if my boyfriend wants to fuck another guy?’

Whatever protests Seokyoon might make – he’s not sure Moonjo was thinking about fucking, to start with – lodge there at the back of his throat. Because Jongwoo had said my boyfriend. Somehow, even if they have been having sex, Seokyoon has felt as if his feelings were one-sided. Like he doesn’t actually mean that much to Jongwoo. You could swap him out and Jongwoo might not even notice.

‘If it bothers you,’ Moonjo says, ‘we can always do it together.’ He lets go of Seokyoon, then.

Jongwoo looks at him in disbelief. Seokyoon’s reaction is something different.

‘At the same time?’ he says, his voice suddenly too loud; it startles Jongwoo.

‘If that’s what you had in mind,’ Moonjo says, his lip twisting in a way that makes Seokyoon realise he’s being teased. Because who knows what Moonjo was picturing, but Seokyoon’s mind went straight in one direction.

Could he take two cocks at once? Sober? It would hurt, wouldn’t it? This isn’t exactly a leisurely sex situation. But on the other hand …

Jongwoo looks as if he’s considering it. And that’s all the impetus Seokyoon needs to go along with this.

Moonjo takes his hand, and he directs it to Jongwoo’s crotch – like he’s reluctant to touch Jongwoo without Seokyoon in the way. Because if Jongwoo rejects Seokyoon, it doesn’t matter, but if Jongwoo rejects Moonjo, then Moonjo has to feel that. And it would bother him. However cool he acts, Moonjo must care what Jongwoo thinks of him.

Not that Moonjo need worry – Jongwoo’s cock is pretty obviously taking an interest. Seokyoon palms him through the fabric, and then, more gingerly, he goes to undo the buttons of Jongwoo’s shirt. His good shirt, because of course he’s come from Jieun’s funeral. Seokyoon wants to know what happened, if there’s a reason he came back early, but he can’t ask with Moonjo there. It’s insensitive, or it will break the peace, if it is a peace. Maybe Jongwoo’s just too worn out to resist.

If Seokyoon were less selfish, maybe that thought would stay his hand.

But Seokyoon keeps going. He pushes Jongwoo’s shirt back off his shoulders, until Jongwoo shrugs it off and throws it to the ground. Moonjo leaves the undressing to Seokyoon; he sits slightly to the side, and strokes his own dick watching them. Jongwoo keeps glancing at him, out of nerves, or maybe that he wants to see but can’t bring himself to look openly.

Moonjo has less shame about that sort of thing. About a lot of things.

When Jongwoo is naked, Seokyoon kneels on the ground and kisses the inside of his thigh. Jongwoo isn’t fully hard yet, and Seokyoon would like to get him that way with his mouth. But Moonjo places a hand on Seokyoon’s head, in what would be a caress except that Seokyoon is already expecting to get yanked around.

‘That’s not what you had in mind, is it?’

‘We’re not on a timer,’ Seokyoon says.

‘I don’t know,’ Jongwoo says, ‘what you’re talking about.’

A nice straight boy like Jongwoo probably never has thought about it before. Except that Jongwoo didn’t turn out to be that straight after all.

‘Jongwoo should lie back on the bed, maybe?’ Seokyoon says. To Moonjo, because Moonjo is the one in charge. Moonjo shrugs a shoulder like it doesn’t matter to him either way.

‘I’m not –’ Jongwoo says, and he eyes Moonjo like he’s suspicious of something.

‘Don’t freak out, hyung. I just meant I’ll be on top.’ And then, because that hasn’t helped. ‘Like, I’m going to ride you. Okay?’

‘So what’s he –’

‘Double penetration,’ Seokyoon says, in a rush. ‘Shit, you made me say it.’

‘You’re coy now?’ Moonjo says.

‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘Will that even work?’ Jongwoo says. Because he is that innocent, apparently.

‘If it doesn’t,’ Moonjo says, ‘he’ll have to think of something else.’ He ruffles Seokyoon’s hair, and Seokyoon has to resist the urge to duck away.

‘Just lie down, hyung,’ Seokyoon says.

At least at home he has lube, although he can feel Moonjo judging him when he grabs it. Moonjo is probably the type of monster who likes it dry, but it’s not his ass under threat.

Anyway, lubing up Jongwoo’s cock provides Seokyoon an excuse to touch him with his hands. He thinks Jongwoo prefers hands, to be honest – they’ve never done anal apart from that one time. Seokyoon doesn’t know if it’s just that Jongwoo thinks it’s dirty, or if Moonjo’s involvement has tainted the act for him.

Although that certainly hasn’t applied to oral. So Seokyoon can’t really think that’s it.

And Jongwoo is hardly objecting now, though he lets Seokyoon take the lead. The look on his face when Seokyoon sinks down on his cock is enough to make all the rest of this worthwhile. Whether he’s mad at Seokyoon or not. Whether he would ever have chosen this or not.

And Seokyoon likes it, anyway. He likes the stretch of taking a cock in one go, and he likes, better, when he starts to ride Jongwoo and that friction begins to build, and he can watch Jongwoo’s face all the while.

And he knows Moonjo is waiting too.

Moonjo does at least do him the favour of lubing up his own dick as he watches. When he gets impatient, he climbs on the bed behind Seokyoon and presses one hand against Seokyoon’s stomach; with the other, he slips two fingers inside him, up against Jongwoo’s cock.

Jongwoo’s face does something amazing.

Seokyoon loves to watch his face. He feels a little loopy himself – not that it’s too much, but like he’s teetering on the edge of something he’ll regret in the morning. But he’ll regret things anyway, so maybe it’s best to destroy himself. To let himself be unspeakably exposed.

Seokyoon has stopped moving so much, rocking against Jongwoo more slowly as Moonjo massages his rim. Seokyoon’s cock is leaking, but he doesn’t feel the need to touch himself. He’s never come from just his ass before, but he feels like tonight maybe he could.

And then Moonjo stops with the fingers, and he presses the head of his cock against Seokyoon’s entrance instead. Now, Seokyoon has a flicker of anxiety; he’s not sure that he can take this after all.

But it’s not like Moonjo has ever cared what he can take before.

It hurts, when Moonjo pushes himself inside – first an ache but then it stings too, and Seokyoon thinks he must have torn – but then he forgets, because Moonjo puts both hands on him, and Jongwoo lets out a low groan that is totally unlike any sound Seokyoon has heard him make before. And it’s the two of them together, overwhelming the pain – both pushing inside him, filling him up beyond anything he’s felt before. Not just what’s empty, but pushing other things to make way.

Moonjo still has one hand on Seokyoon’s stomach, and he must be able to feel it, mustn’t he? The bulge of Jongwoo’s cock pressing Seokyoon’s abdomen. Jongwoo has mostly stopped thrusting, instead letting Moonjo do the work. Or maybe they just can’t both keep up a rhythm without someone slipping out.

Moonjo puts his other hand at the base of Seokyoon’s throat. Gives a light squeeze, more a reminder than anything else. Seokyoon feels his breath on his neck, his hot breath before he bites down on Seokyoon’s shoulder, hard enough that Seokyoon feels it in his cock. His dripping, leaking, rock hard cock.

And Seokyoon wants to come.

He looks down at Jongwoo, his desperate expression. He’s so beautiful. Seokyoon wants to swallow him up and never let him go.

Instead, he says, ‘Hyung, can you –’

It takes a few moments for the words to register with Jongwoo. Then he grabs Seokyoon’s cock and strokes him roughly, only a few strokes before Seokyoon spills, all time and sensation collapsing in on itself in that moment of pure pleasure.

Only that’s not the end, is it? Because they’re not done with him. He is so completely subject to the two of them. And to Moonjo’s whims above all else.

Seokyoon’s not even sure which of them it is that comes first. Or maybe there’s no difference. He’s only aware when Moonjo stops thrusting, because it feels like Seokyoon comes down himself. He can finally catch his breath.

Moonjo pulls out, to flop crosswise on the bed behind them. Seokyoon looks back at him. Moonjo is flushed, strangely young looking. Like they’re not so far apart in age as Seokyoon thought.

Jongwoo taps him on the arm, and Seokyoon climbs off, squeezing into what space there is on the bed beside him. He’s aware that his ass is gaping, dripping with Jongwoo and Moonjo’s intermingled seed. And the sensation almost gets him horny again.

As if he could survive another round.

‘You’re bleeding,’ Moonjo says, from the foot of the bed.

‘What?’ Seokyoon says, and then he touches himself. He comes away with his fingers marked with the bright fresh blood.

Jongwoo grabs Seokyoon’s hand and he curses; Seokyoon tries to laugh it off. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘Not a big deal?’

‘Not like it’s the first time,’ Seokyoon says. His words become a mumble at the end, because he’s aware of how Jongwoo is looking at him. Why does he have to look so shocked? Jongwoo is so innocent, sometimes. For a murderer.

‘I’m gonna take a shower,’ Seokyoon says. He thinks in this instance Jongwoo won’t mind if he goes first, except that Jongwoo follows him.

‘You’re just gonna leave him there?’ Seokyoon says, when they’re out the door. His own words sound distant to him.

‘What’s he going to do?’ Jongwoo says. In the bathroom, he turns on the shower, but he hurries Seokyoon in ahead of him.

‘I thought you wanted to kill him.’ Seokyoon wishes that they had better water pressure, that the water alone could scrub him clean.

‘I do.’

Jongwoo steps into the shower beside him; because Seokyoon isn’t moving, he begins to wash him, sudsing up his hands and rubbing Seokyoon all over.

‘Don’t you want to kill me too?’ Seokyoon hates the desperation in his own voice. ‘I invited him here.’

‘Because you’re an idiot,’ Jongwoo says. Which isn’t answering the question.

‘Hyung. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry,’ Jongwoo says. His hands are rough, as he washes Seokyoon, but it’s in a way that feels good. Like Seokyoon is actually getting clean.

‘You’re not going to leave, are you? Please don’t leave.’

Jongwoo stops and looks at him, through the water. Seokyoon can’t help it; he reaches out to hold him. And Jongwoo does put his arms around him.

‘When I was at the funeral,’ Jongwoo says, ‘I wished I’d let you come after all.’ He lets Seokyoon go again, except Seokyoon keeps a grip of his arm. He doesn’t trust the words he’s hearing.

‘It was awful,’ Jongwoo says. ‘That’s why I came back early.’

‘Hyung, I’m sorry.’

Jongwoo shrugs. He goes back to washing Seokyoon, more gently now. ‘You’re not going to stop seeing him, are you?’ Jongwoo says. ‘So I just have to get used to it.’

Seokyoon is such an awful boyfriend. Because Jongwoo isn’t wrong. As long as Moonjo is alive, Seokyoon will be drawn to him. They’re tangled together, the three of them, and Seokyoon isn’t even trying to get free.

That’s why Jongwoo is being dragged down with him.

But Seokyoon can’t stop.

---

After they’ve showered, they come out to find Moonjo has stripped the bed. It’s the last thing Seokyoon would have expected of him. But he supposes they must have got it pretty groddy.

‘Don’t you have a change of sheets?’ Moonjo asks, and Seokyoon and Jongwoo look at each other, and Seokyoon shakes his head.

‘You really are living the bachelor life,’ Moonjo says. ‘I assume there’s a laundry room?’

‘Yeah, but you don’t need to do it,’ Seokyoon says.

‘He’s saying you should go home,’ Jongwoo says, who apparently is past the point of caring whether he’s rude to Moonjo. Probably they are past that point.

‘Is he?’ Moonjo says. He looks amused for some reason. ‘I’ll just take a shower first then.’

Jongwoo waves a hand to indicate he should hurry up. Then he looks despairingly at the laundry basket.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Seokyoon says. ‘You just take my bed and I’ll sort it.’ Jongwoo has had a longer day than him, after all.

‘I’ll wait,’ Jongwoo says.

---

When Seokyoon comes back from putting the laundry on, Jongwoo is making ramyeon. Moonjo is half-dressed, sitting on their couch with a beer. Not planning to go home any time soon.

‘Are you hungry?’ Jongwoo asks, without turning from the stove.

‘Yeah.’ Seokyoon looks back at Moonjo and mouths, are you staying?

Moonjo lifts his beer in response.

Seokyoon is never not going to be confused by the relationship these two have. Jongwoo was so angry earlier. And so sad. He can’t just be making nice for Seokyoon’s sake.

‘I told Jongwoo I was thinking of moving out,’ Moonjo says.

‘I didn’t really get why you were living there when you had a proper job and all,’ Seokyoon says, as he joins Moonjo on the couch.

‘Sometimes, we cling to what we’re used to,’ Moonjo says. ‘But I think it’s time for a change. A fresh start.’

‘Had you lived there a long time?’

‘Not so long as that,’ Moonjo says. And he smiles, one of those smiles that is directed at something in his own memories and not at Seokyoon at all.

‘I said I’d help him clear things out,’ Jongwoo says. He’s bringing the ramyeon over to the table; the smell of it makes Seokyoon realise that he’s hungry.

‘That’s nice of you,’ Seokyoon says. He’s surprised when Moonjo laughs. ‘Oh – are you paying him?’

‘No,’ Moonjo says. ‘Not everything in this life is done for money.’

‘Then what’s funny?’

‘Ignore him,’ Jongwoo says, coming back with his own food. ‘He has a perverse sense of humour.’

Seokyoon has felt like this before, he thinks. When Jongwoo asked Moonjo to help him after he killed Jaeho. Suddenly he thinks he better not ask any more questions.

He shuffles closer to Moonjo, so that Jongwoo can sit down too, and wonders if it’s wrong to be so glad to be squeezed between them.

---

Later that month, Seokyoon sees the article about a fire in Eunhyun-Gu. He sits up straight, reading the name of the building.

‘Hyung, did you see this?’

‘See what?’ Jongwoo has spent the day on job applications, and now he’s meant to be writing. Seokyoon is distracting him.

‘There was a fire. At Eden.’ He shows Jongwoo the story on his phone. Jongwoo scrolls through it, his face revealing nothing. ‘It’s a good thing Moonjo moved out when he did.’ Four of the residents had died in the fire, apparently. It makes Seokyoon sick to think about: it could have been them. ‘It’s not the first time there was a fire there, right? How unlucky.’

‘It’s probably for the best,’ Jongwoo says, handing Seokyoon’s phone back.

‘How do you mean?’

‘The sort of people who lived there,’ Jongwoo says. ‘It’s not like anyone would really miss them, right?’ His attention is back on his laptop screen.

‘Hyung. We’re the sort of people who lived there.’

Jongwoo’s eyes flick back to him. ‘We got out.’

‘Hyung.’

Should Seokyoon ask? Whether Jongwoo knows anything more about the fire.

But Jongwoo says, ‘I should be grateful, huh?’ and he leans over and kisses Seokyoon’s cheek. Lowers his voice. ‘I am grateful.’

And Seokyoon thinks he’s never going to ask, because it’s never going to matter. Whatever Jongwoo does, Seokyoon will stick by him. And if Jongwoo decides to get rid of him one day, well, Seokyoon will be grateful for the time he’s had.

And if he never knows what exactly it is goes on between Jongwoo and Moonjo when they’re together, well, that’s fine. If it means that Jongwoo never forces him to choose, it’s more than fine.

He thinks that he’d choose Jongwoo. No, he’s pretty sure he’d choose Jongwoo.

But he’s glad, too, for every day the question doesn’t come up.