Barromarroo
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Summary
He reached down and lifted the sheet that covered Seonghyeon’s lower half, and he froze. Seonghyeon was whining, a low, needy sound vibrating in his throat. He was palming himself through his clothes, his movements frantic and desperate.
"Are—are those my clothes?" Keonho asked, his voice barely a whisper.Seonghyeon didn't answer. He didn't even look up. He just increased the speed of his hand, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps. Within a few moments, he shuddered violently and came, his body sagging into the mattress. Slowly, Seonghyeon looked up. His face was flushed a deep, burning pink, and sweat dripped from his forehead, matting his hair to his skin. He looked completely wrecked.
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Summary
Eom Seonghyeon likes Ahn Keonho.
But for Seonghyeon, the team comes first. The members come first. Their dream, their future—those things will always take precedence over whatever he feels.
So he chose to hide it.
To bury the truth somewhere deep inside him where no one else could reach it. He chose to be closeted, to put on a version of himself that wasn’t entirely real, even if it meant contradicting the very principle CORTIS was built on: to be as authentic as possible, breaking the mold and showing the world who they truly were.
He wanted to live by that. But how could he, when the most honest part of him was also the most dangerous?
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“I meant on the cheek,” Seonghyeon said quietly, voice soft but firm, his own embarrassment evident in the faint quaver.
Keonho’s head slowly lifted, eyes widening as he processed the words. “Oh,” he breathed out, dumbfounded. A groan escaped him shortly after, almost involuntarily. “Oh,” he said again, louder this time
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"I can give you a shotgun," Keonho murmurs, his raspy voice brushing over Seonghyeon's skin.
Seonghyeon's breath hatches instantly. His cheeks flare red. "A... a what?"
"A shotgun," Keonho repeats, leaning down until his dark hair almost brushes Seonghyeon's forehead. Up close, his visuals are devastating…sharp jawline, smooth skin, and dark eyes narrowed with an intense focus. "I take the hit, hold the smoke, and pass it directly to you. So you don’t take a direct drag into your lungs, so it doesn’t burn. You just take it straight from my mouth."
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A late-night encounter on the dorm balcony turns lethal when Keonho nonchalantly offers a hit: via an act that requires their mouths to be too close.Seonghyeon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head at the audacity, but fueled by sheer frustration and a desperate need to not look like a complete amateur, he gives in anyway.
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Seonghyeon’s smirk softened into something almost sympathetic… almost. He tossed the blanket onto the floor with deliberate casualness, then leaned back against the dresser, arms crossed. "You know," he mused, "if you *liked* my fancams, you could’ve just said so."
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Or the members find out keonhos been watching edits of seonghyeon one night