Archive of Our Own

The morning was loud in the way campus always was—buzzing with footsteps, coffee cups clinking, and chatter that carried further than it should. Bamby adjusted the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, long strides keeping up easily with Eunho’s.

Unsurprisingly, whispers trailed after them.

“That’s him, right?”
“I heard he kissed Hana from econ last night—”
“No, no, he was with someone from the volleyball team.”

Bamby sighed so softly it was almost inaudible. Almost.

“Do you ever stop?”

Eunho tilted his head, messy silver hair falling into his eyes, and grinned like he’d just been handed free tickets to a game. “Stop what, exactly? Breathing? Existing? Being devastatingly handsome?”

Bamby gave him a flat look. “Making out with half the campus.”

Eunho’s smirk widened. “Half? You flatter me, Bamby. I think I’m only at, what? Thirty percent?”

“Disgusting,” Bamby muttered, eyes forward again. He didn’t miss the way a pair of students slowed down to glance at Eunho before breaking into hushed giggles.

The attention never bothered Eunho, he thrived in it. He liked people. He liked charming people. And if kissing was his currency, then Eunho was filthy rich.

But for Bamby, it was exhausting. Every corner of campus held some memory of stumbling into Eunho pressed against a wall with someone whom he had never seen before, never hidden enough, never subtle enough. Bamby would scoff, look away, and pretend it wasn’t burned into his brain.

“You know,” Eunho said casually as they cut across the quad, “you sound jealous.”

That earned him a sharp glare. “Of what, exactly?”

“Of my lips’ world tour,” Eunho said without missing a beat.

Bamby stopped walking for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re unbearable.”

“Yet you still walk with me every day,” Eunho shot back, that infuriating smirk firmly in place.

The worst part? He was right.

Despite all the eye-rolls, the complaints, the I’m-so-done-with-you sighs, Bamby found himself with the annoying silver haired everyday. Because Eunho, with all his antics and his ridiculous flirting, was still the person who dragged him out of his shell, made boring classes bearable, and sat with him in quiet libraries like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They had met on the first day of orientation, in the same orientation group. The next thing he knew, they’re also in the same course. Eunho was loud from the beginning but he was also the only person who willingly approached him first. Bamby never pushed him away nor did Eunho pulled away despite Eunho having more acquaintances later on, Bamby had thought that Eunho would get bored and joined the more fun circle he had but… here he was, glued to his side chattering away with no care in the world despite the constant glare and uninterested reply Bamby gave him.

Bamby adjusted the bag slinging on his shoulder, expression back to neutral. “One day, someone’s going to realize you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Eunho leaned down, voice dropping low near Bamby’s ear. “You don't seem to think so though.”

Bamby didn’t look at him. Didn’t have to. Because he knew Eunho was smiling—like he always did when he managed to get under his skin.

And annoyingly enough… Maybe that was exactly why Bamby did keep him around.

-

Later that week, Bamby found himself crossing the quad alone, earbuds in but music off, his usual tactic to avoid small talk. That’s when he caught the tail end of a group of girls gossiping by the fountain.

“Oh my god, his lips,” one of them whispered, clasping her hands like she was praying. “Soft but, like, firm? And he knows exactly when to tilt his head, it's like he’s reading your mind.”

Her friend squealed. “Shut up, stop, you’re making me jealous!”

“And the way he holds your waist,” the first one added, lowering her voice but not enough. “It’s like you can’t not melt. He’s seriously—ugh. No wonder people say he’s the best kisser here.”

Bamby scoffed under his breath, rolling his eyes as he walked past. He didn't need to hear the name of the person in question to figure out who they're gushing about. Of course. Always the same ridiculous nonsense worship.

He didn't remember when it started but he's convinced it wasn't that long after the first few months they entered college when he first heard the rumor. 

Of course he even confronted Eunho about it and irritatingly, the man didn't even deny it. He admitted it like it wasn't a big deal, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Funnily enough, Bamby left the conversation at that. For some reason, it ended up not that big of a deal like Eunho said. Though of course Bamby grimaced at the thought and he’d rather kiss the ground than ever finding himself in that situation.

Well, it's not like Eunho was going around hurting people's feelings. He had made sure to make it clear that there’s no feelings attached and it's a one time thing. He also had a strict rule of not being involved with couples. He didn't sleep around either, only making out. If there are rumors about anything beyond that, he’d immediately deny it which made Bamby believe it's true since Eunho's carefree personality wouldn't care if it's true. 

In conclusion, this man really was just enjoying his youth in his own weird way.

On Bamby’s way to the restroom tucked behind the old lecture hall, he stopped short.

There were muffled sounds, too familiar to mistake. The soft thud of someone pressed against a wall, a low chuckle that could only belong to one person.

Bamby froze, pressed against the corner, telling himself to just turn around and leave like he always did.

He should. He should .

But the girl’s words from earlier rang in his head— soft but firm… tilt of his head… can’t not melt.

Against his better judgment, Bamby leaned just enough to see.

It wasn’t a girl this time. It was a smaller guy, fingers curled into Eunho’s shirt, practically pulled up onto his toes. Eunho had one hand braced on the wall, the other at the guy’s jaw, angling him perfectly into the kiss.

And, damn it, Bamby understood.

The precision, the intensity, the unhurried confidence that somehow didn’t feel forced. He hated how easily the girl’s breathless description matched what he was seeing.

He should look away.

But then Eunho’s eyes cracked open mid-kiss and locked straight onto him.

For a second, Bamby’s stomach dropped. Then came the slow, unmistakable curl of Eunho’s smirk.

And the bastard had the audacity to wink.

As if that weren’t enough, Eunho pressed the guy harder into the wall, deepening the kiss like he was putting on a goddamn show.

Bamby’s skin crawled with goosebumps, a flush of secondhand embarrassment burning his neck. He turned sharply on his heel, muttering curses under his breath as he walked away, each step faster than the last.

“Unbearable,” he hissed to no one, tugging his hood up as if that could block out the smug image burned into his brain.

-

By the next morning, Bamby had convinced himself Eunho wouldn’t mention it.

Eunho forgot things. Important things, even. Surely catching his best friend hovering behind a wall during one of his make-out escapades wasn’t going to be worth remembering.

Except, of course, this was Eunho.

“Morning, Bamby ,” Eunho drawled as they fell into step toward class. His grin was too sharp, too knowing. “Sleep well?”

“Fine.” Bamby kept his gaze forward, adjusting his backpack strap.

“Any… interesting dreams ?”

Bamby didn’t falter, but the muscle in his jaw tightened. “No.”

Eunho hummed like he didn’t believe him for a second. “Weird. Because I had this dream that someone was spying on me yesterday.” He tilted his head, silver hair falling into his eyes. “Short guy, pink hair, very judgmental frown. Ring any bells?”

“Drop dead,” Bamby said flatly.

Eunho laughed, loud enough to draw stares from passing students. “Oh, don’t be shy. I didn’t mind the audience. Actually, I think it made things spicier.”

Bamby shot him a glare sharp enough to kill if looks could. “You’re disgusting.”

“Mm, that’s not what he thought,” Eunho replied smoothly, hands in his pockets as he leaned closer. “But, you know, if you ever want a live demonstration—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Eunho smirked wider, delighted. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I know you enough to want you to shut your mouth,” Bamby muttered.

“Mmm, if that's what you want to believe.” Eunho countered, voice smug as hell. “I know you can’t resist me.”

Bamby exhaled sharply, lengthening his stride as if distance could shield him from Eunho’s antics. But the tips of his ears were pink, and Eunho noticed—oh, he noticed.

And Eunho grinned like the wolf that caught the canary.

-

“Your notes are garbage,” Bamby muttered, flicking through Eunho’s messy scrawl of half-doodles, half-legible formulas.

Eunho leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily over the backrest. “Garbage that got me through midterms. You’re welcome.”

Bamby shut the notebook with a snap. “I’m not thanking you for this.”

“You’re thanking me with your presence,” Eunho said smoothly, tilting his chair on two legs until Bamby shoved it back down with his foot. “Besides, you love my company.”

Bamby’s face didn’t so much as twitch. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Hours later, the room was unusually quiet. No chatter from the hallway, no music from the dorm next door. Just the faint hum of Bamby’s desk lamp and the sound of their steady breathing.

Assignments were done, laptops closed, and the two of them had drifted into that easy silence that only existed between people who didn’t need to fill the air with noise.

Bamby sat cross-legged on the floor, back against his bed frame. Across from him, Eunho had claimed his desk chair, legs sprawled out like he owned the place.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. And then, because Eunho never could leave silence untouched—

“So, Bamby,” Eunho drawled, twirling a pen between his fingers. “You ever dated anyone?”

Bamby kept scrolling the videos on his Tiktok, unimpressed. “Why are you asking me that out of nowhere?”

“Curiosity,” Eunho shrugged. “You’re so mysterious. Stoic. A tragic romantic lead in the making.”

“Shut up.”

Eunho smirked, leaning back in the chair. “So…?”

Bamby sighed. “No. Not really.”

“Not really?”

“No.” His tone was final, clipped.

Eunho hummed, like he’d just uncovered the juiciest piece of gossip. “Interesting.”

Bamby narrowed his eyes. “What about you? I bet you’ve dated half the campus.”

Eunho’s grin faltered for once, replaced with something almost casual. “Only three.”

That made Bamby blink. “Three?”

“Mm-hmm.” Eunho spun the chair slightly, the movement lazy. “High school girlfriend. First year here. And someone last semester.”

“…That’s it?” Bamby asked, skepticism dripping from every syllable.

Eunho tilted his head, his smirk returning slowly. “Why do you sound so surprised, Bamby ?”

“Because,” Bamby said flatly, “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen you kissing people in random corners of this campus. Must be dozens. Maybe hundreds.”

Eunho chuckled, low and amused. “It’s just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss,” Bamby repeated, deadpan. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Eunho leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting. “I mean, people make it out to be some big deal, but sometimes it’s just fun. Casual. Like saying hello but better.”

Bamby pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re insufferable.”

“You say that,” Eunho said, smirk widening, “but you sound awfully interested in my kissing life.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh? Then why bring it up?"

“I was making a point,” Bamby muttered.

“Uh-huh.” Eunho’s grin grew mischievous, his voice dropping to a playful lilt. “You know, if you’re that curious… I could just show you.”

The words hung heavy in the room, smug and shameless.

Bamby’s face didn’t change but the pillow flying straight into Eunho’s face did all the talking for him.

“Mmff—!” The impact knocked Eunho back in the chair, pen clattering to the floor. He peeled the pillow away, laughing even as he caught his balance. “Feisty! Guess that’s a no?”

Bamby picked up another pillow, weighing it like a weapon. “Say one more word and you’re out of my room.”

Eunho only grinned wider, rubbing his cheek where the pillow had hit. “Worth it.”

-

It started the very next day.

They were walking to class, Bamby silent with his hands shoved in his pockets, when Eunho casually leaned over and said,

“You know, the offer still stands.”

Bamby didn’t even look at him. “Die.”

The day after, they were at the cafeteria line. Eunho pointed at the dessert tray. “Chocolate pudding… or kiss practice? Tough choice, Bamby.”

“Pudding,” Bamby said flatly, grabbing the tray and walking away.

By the end of the week, it had become routine. Eunho’s sly remarks slipping into almost every conversation, each one met with Bamby’s patented combination of sighs, eye-rolls and muttered curses.

But Eunho was relentless.

-

Now, in the quiet of Bamby’s room, the cycle repeated.

Bamby sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against his bed frame with his phone in hand, trying to look as unbothered as possible. Across from him, Eunho spun lazily in the desk chair—his chair, Bamby thought sourly. At this point, he was certain Eunho considered it his rightful throne.

The silence stretched. Comfortable. Familiar. Until..

“So…” Eunho began, stretching the word out. “Thought about my offer yet?”

Bamby’s head thunked back against the bed frame. “Do you ever stop?”

Eunho’s grin was immediate, sharp. “Why would I? This is too fun.”

Bamby glared. “It’s been weeks. You’ve brought it up every day.”

“Consistency is key,” Eunho replied, like this was some kind of life lesson. Then his eyes gleamed, lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “Besides… you’re the one who said I’ve kissed half the campus.”

Bamby frowned, sensing a trap. “…Yeah?”

“So maybe you’re the one I need to make it a true statement.”

The pillow hit his face before he even finished the sentence.

“Mmff—!” Eunho’s laugh came muffled through the fabric as he tossed the pillow back onto the bed. “Man, your aim’s getting better.”

Bamby rubbed his temple, trying not to let the heat in his ears show. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still listening.” Eunho leaned back in the chair, arms folded behind his head, utterly smug. “Face it, Bamby—you’re at least a little curious.”

Bamby didn’t respond. Couldn’t. He fixed his gaze on the ceiling, jaw tight, as if ignoring him would make the words evaporate.

But Eunho wasn’t entirely wrong.

It wasn’t that Bamby wanted to kiss him. Not exactly. He just… wanted Eunho to shut up. And maybe, if he proved the rumors wrong, if it was awkward, bad, or just plain nothing, then Bamby would finally have the upper hand. He could throw it back in Eunho’s smug face and get some peace.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Fine.”

The word was quiet, but in the stillness of the room, it was loud enough.

Eunho, mid-spin in the chair, blinked. “... Huh?”

Bamby pushed himself up, voice steady despite the faint heat crawling up his neck. “Give me your best shot. Otherwise, there won’t be a single day I’ll let you live it down.”

Eunho stared for a long second before the slowest, smuggest grin spread across his face. Pure triumph.

Bamby instantly regretted everything. “Wipe that look off your face before I change my mind.”

“Not a chance.” Eunho’s voice was low, playful. “This is historic, Bamby. Mark the date.”

“Historic is me strangling you,” Bamby muttered, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t going to give Eunho the satisfaction of backing down.

What he didn’t expect was for Eunho… not to move either.

The silence stretched again, but this time it was taut, heavy with something unspoken. 

“You’re the one who kept insisting,” Bamby said finally, voice cool but edged. “So you’re the one who has to put in the work.”

That snapped Eunho out of his hesitation. He let out a soft chuckle, rising from the chair with that same loose-limbed grace that annoyed Bamby endlessly.

He stopped in front of him, looking down with a glint in his eye. Then, without warning, he reached down and tugged at Bamby’s leg.

“Oi—what the hell are you doing?”

“Unfolding these,” Eunho said easily, nudging Bamby’s cross-legged posture apart. “You’ll cramp up. It’s gonna be uncomfortable.”

Bamby scowled but didn’t stop him. “You’re making it weird.”

“It was weird the second you said yes,” Eunho shot back, grinning as he slipped one knee between Bamby’s thighs and settled closer, his hand braced against the floor by Bamby’s side.

It was ridiculously close. Too close.

And yet, Eunho hesitated.

Not in the usual way, not the easy confidence Bamby had seen a hundred times when Eunho cornered someone else against a wall. This was different. His smile was still there, but it wavered, flickering like maybe—just maybe—he was nervous.

Bamby almost laughed. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue, oh Great King of Kiss?”

Eunho’s lips twitched at the jab. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice low, teasing but not as steady as before. “Careful, Bamby. You might regret provoking me.”

“Doubtful.”

Amusement tugged at Bamby’s mouth despite himself. Seeing Eunho, the self-proclaimed king of kissing, hesitate now of all times? It was priceless.

Eunho was close enough now that Bamby could see the faint crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the way his grin pulled slightly lopsided. His knee pressed between Bamby’s thighs, steadying him, while one hand braced on the floor by his hip.

“Last chance to back out,” Eunho murmured, voice low, teasing but laced with something heavier.

Bamby tilted his chin up, pink eyes sharp and unrelenting. “You’re the one who wanted this. Don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

That flicker of hesitation vanished, replaced by a flash of challenge. “Careful what you wish for, Bamby.”

And then Eunho leaned in.

The first press of lips was surprisingly soft—slow, testing, almost cautious. Not the showman’s confidence Bamby expected. Eunho lingered, lips brushing, pulling back just enough to read his reaction.

Bamby held still, not pushing forward, not pulling away. Just… letting it happen. His breath caught slightly despite himself. 

Eunho chuckled against his mouth. “You’re stiff as a board.”

“Shut up,” Bamby muttered, but the faintest flush colored his cheeks.

Eunho smirked, tilting his head, and the kiss deepened. What started tentative shifted, his mouth slanting over Bamby’s with practiced ease, lips firm, coaxing rather than demanding. It was unhurried, precise, exactly like the gossiping girls had breathlessly described.

And damn it, Bamby could see why.

He felt the gentle tug when Eunho’s fingers brushed his jaw, tilting his face just slightly, guiding him into a better angle. The knee between his thighs shifted closer, anchoring him, and Bamby’s chest tightened with something he refused to name.

He should pull back. He should throw another pillow at his smug face.

But instead, he let it happen.

And worse, he found himself noticing everything: the warmth of Eunho’s hand, the way his lips softened then firmed, the deliberate pauses that somehow made it more intense. The rumors hadn’t been exaggerating. Eunho kissed like it was a conversation, easily getting himself into it.

Bamby’s fingers curled into the fabric of his own sweats, knuckles white, refusing to give him the satisfaction of touching back. Still, his pulse betrayed him, quickening.

When Eunho finally pulled away, just barely, his lips hovered a breath from Bamby’s. His grin was triumphant, but his voice was softer than expected.

“Not bad for ‘just a kiss,’ huh?”

Bamby swallowed hard, forcing his face back into neutrality. “You’re… annoyingly decent.”

Eunho laughed, leaning back slightly, though his hand still lingered at Bamby’s jaw. “Decent? That’s not the face of someone who just had a decent kiss”

“That was it?”

Eunho raised a brow. “What do you mean ‘ that was it’ ?”

Bamby’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “It wasn’t anything like the hype. Too soft. Honestly? Kinda boring.”

For the first time, Eunho’s grin faltered. “Boring?”

“Mm.” Bamby leaned back against the bed frame, crossing his arms, expression smug. “Guess the rumors are exaggerated. Should’ve figured.”

The tick in Eunho’s jaw was subtle, but unmistakable. His pride, the one thing bigger than his messy hair, bristled at the dismissal.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered.

“And you’re overrated,” Bamby countered, deadpan.

Eunho’s smirk returned, sharper now. “Overrated, huh?”

Before Bamby could retort, Eunho’s hands shot forward. One gripped his thigh firmly, tugging, and before he could even yelp properly, he was hauled up with ridiculous ease.

“Oi—!”

In a swift motion, Bamby found himself pulled into Eunho’s lap, straddling him, his knees instinctively falling to either side of Eunho’s hips. The sudden shift made his breath hitch, balance tipping precariously. Without thinking, his arms shot up, wrapping around Eunho’s neck to keep from toppling backward.

The position was dangerously intimate.

Eunho leaned back slightly, smirk widening as his hands settled at Bamby’s waist, steadying him. “Still think I’m overrated, Bamby?”

Bamby’s glare was instant, but his ears burned crimson. “You’re insane.”

“Mm, maybe,” Eunho said, voice low and smooth, “but you didn’t exactly fight me off.”

“I didn’t want to fall on my ass,” Bamby snapped, tightening his arms instinctively around Eunho’s neck at the thought.

Eunho chuckled, the sound rumbling against Bamby’s chest. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

The casual confidence in his tone only made Bamby’s pulse spike harder. His legs tightened around Eunho’s waist despite himself, every nerve on edge at the closeness. The warmth of Eunho’s hands at his sides, the steady rise and fall of his chest so near, the infuriating grin inches from his face.

And through it all, Bamby couldn’t stop thinking how annoyingly smug Eunho looked, like he’d just won the ultimate victory.

Which only made him want to knock that grin off his face… one way or another.

Eunho had Bamby caged in — his lap straddled across Eunho’s thighs, his back pressed firmly against the bed frame, nowhere to escape.

The smug glint in Eunho’s eye dimmed into something sharper when Bamby’s earlier jab replayed in his mind. Too soft. Boring.

“Alright, Bamby,” Eunho murmured, voice low as his thumb brushed at the corner of Bamby’s jaw. “If that’s what you wanted…”

Then he kissed him again.

This time, there was nothing tentative about it. Eunho’s mouth claimed his with firm, unhurried pressure, lips moving with confidence that bordered on challenge. His hand slid up Bamby’s side, fingers settling at his waist to anchor him, while the other cupped his jaw, angling his face just so, tilting until their mouths fit perfectly.

The kiss deepened quickly, steady but insistent, Eunho pressing closer until Bamby’s body was flush against his, chest to chest, heat pooling where their hips met. Every shift made the chair beneath them creak faintly, grounding them in the closeness.

Bamby, true to form, was stubborn. His lips stayed pressed, refusing to part even when Eunho coaxed, teased, tried to ease them open with subtle flicks and lingering pressure.

Eunho smirked against his mouth. “Always a brat.”

But Eunho was patient. His thumb brushed along Bamby’s cheekbone, gentle in contrast to the heat of the kiss, while his other hand squeezed subtly at his waist, guiding him closer. When Bamby shifted with a sharp inhale, just slightly off-guard, Eunho took the chance, tongue slipping past the seam of his lips.

Bamby let out a muffled noise, half-protest, half-surprise, and instinctively tightened his grip around Eunho’s neck, pulling himself closer instead of pushing away.

Eunho took full advantage.

Their tongues brushed, hesitant for only a beat before Eunho deepened it, turning what had been stubborn resistance into a slow unraveling. The kiss wasn’t sloppy, it was deliberate, practiced, the kind of kiss that made rumors and left people flushed. His tongue swept against Bamby’s in teasing strokes, coaxing, testing, until even Bamby’s control faltered.

Every shift of Eunho’s mouth was precise, alternating between coaxing softness and firm, dizzying pressure. He kissed like he meant to prove a point, that the hype wasn’t exaggeration, that every whisper Bamby had rolled his eyes at was grounded in truth.

And as much as Bamby wanted to argue, to scoff, to throw another pillow, he couldn’t ignore the way his pulse thrummed, the way his body betrayed him by pressing closer.

When Eunho finally pulled back, lips flushed, breath unsteady but still wearing that insufferably triumphant grin, he kept their foreheads pressed together, thumb brushing idly along Bamby’s jaw.

“Still think it’s overrated?” he murmured, voice husky with satisfaction.

Bamby glared, cheeks flushed, breath caught somewhere between fury and something else entirely. “You’re… insufferable.”

Eunho chuckled, low and smug, leaning in just close enough to brush their lips again. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

Eunho didn’t pull back. Not this time.

The smug grin on his lips melted into something more heated as he tilted Bamby’s head further, mouth pressing harder, deeper, until every breath Bamby tried to take was stolen between them.

His tongue swept deeper into Bamby’s mouth, deliberate and unrelenting, exploring every corner with the kind of slow precision that made Bamby’s toes curl inside his socks. A faint, unwilling sound slipped from his throat, half a gasp, half a whine — and Eunho immediately smirked into the kiss, ego flaring.

Got you.

The sound only spurred him on. He pressed in closer, chest solid and warm against Bamby’s, his hand sliding up from his waist to splay across his ribcage, thumb brushing just beneath the hem of his shirt as if grounding him there.

Bamby’s back arched despite himself, head pushed lower until it rested flat against the mattress frame. He was effectively pinned, nowhere to go, not that his body seemed to want to escape.

His mind was a haze, thoughts scattered, consumed by the way Eunho kissed him like there was nothing else in the world but this push and pull, this coaxing of sound after sound from a throat that usually only held sharp remarks.

Eunho caught another muffled gasp, and the satisfaction that flooded through him was heady. He’d kissed plenty of people—bold, shy, eager, clumsy, but this was different.

Bamby wasn’t giving in easily. He resisted, fought, even in the way he pressed his lips tight or tried to stifle every noise. And every time Eunho broke through that wall, every time he forced a sound or a twitch of movement out of him, it felt like victory unlike anything he’d tasted before.

He deepened the kiss again, tongue tangling with Bamby’s, coaxing, demanding, until Bamby’s nails dug into the back of his neck, not to push him away, but to hold on.

That subtle shift sent a thrill down Eunho’s spine.

He adjusted his angle, pushing his weight closer, bodies flush in every possible way, chest heaving against chest. His fingers curled tighter around Bamby’s jaw, tilting him just right to slot their mouths together perfectly. Each glide of tongue, each brush of lips dragged another sound out of him — stifled, unwilling, delicious.

Eunho’s chest burned with triumph, yes, but something else tangled with it, something deeper. Satisfaction, thick and heavy, at watching Bamby, his sharp-tongued best friend, unravel right here beneath him.

His .

Not the whispers in the hallway. Not the giggling girls or the random hookups behind buildings. This was different.

And Eunho wasn’t sure he could stop.

Bamby’s chest rose sharply, lungs burning, his grip around Eunho’s neck tightening to ground himself. He wanted to shove him back, he told himself to, but his arms only pulled Eunho closer, locking him in place.

This is insane.

I should stop this.

Why can’t I—

The thought cut off as Eunho angled his head, tongue brushing deeper against his, making his entire body jolt. A muffled sound , humiliating, unwilling—escaped him, and Eunho groaned low in response, pressing harder, chasing the sound like it was addictive.

Eunho’s hand at his jaw slid into his hair, fingers threading into pink strands, holding him steady as if he’d even try to escape. His other hand squeezed firmly at his waist, guiding him closer, until their hips met in an unyielding press.

Bamby gasped against his mouth, shuddering. The tingle spreading from every place Eunho touched him rattled his composure, turning his thoughts to static.

He should be shoving Eunho away. He should be sneering at him, tossing another sharp retort. But instead, his lips parted more willingly, giving Eunho room to explore, tongues tangling in a rhythm that stole every ounce of breath from his body.

Bamby’s head thunked harder against the bed frame, his chest heaving as the kiss consumed him. His mind screamed pull away, stop this, but his body betrayed him at every turn—knees tightening around Eunho’s waist, nails pressing crescents into the back of his neck, lips parting with each stolen breath.

The kiss only deepened, Eunho coaxing more, pushing further, chasing that intoxicating unraveling he’d never seen from anyone else.

Their mouths finally parted with a wet sound, both of them gasping like they’d surfaced from deep water. Bamby’s chest rose and fell in sharp rhythm, lips flushed, a faint sheen of sweat on his skin. Eunho’s forehead pressed against his for a beat, breath ragged, chest vibrating with a low laugh that sent a shiver down Bamby’s spine.

Before Bamby could piece words together, Eunho dipped lower, his lips dragging along his jaw, tracing a deliberate path down the sharp line to his throat. The shift made Bamby’s head fall back against the bed frame with a dull thunk, exposing more of his neck.

“Eunho—” his voice broke, half protest, half something else entirely.

Eunho ignored it, mouth brushing the sensitive spot just below his ear before trailing down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his skin. His teeth scraped lightly at his pulse point, and Bamby hissed, his fingers tightening instinctively in Eunho’s messy silver hair.

Each press of lips and teasing flick of tongue made the haze in Bamby’s head heavier, drowning out the sharp voice in his mind that normally had control. His breath stuttered in his throat, the warmth of Eunho’s mouth against his neck coaxing sounds he couldn’t smother.

Eunho’s hands roamed as he kissed him—one sliding from his waist up his ribcage, thumb brushing the curve of his side, the other pressing firmly at his thigh, grounding him, keeping him where he wanted him.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in the hazy aftermath, breath mingling, bodies pressed close.

Then Eunho lifted his head, and Bamby saw that look again—the glint in his eyes, sharp and bright, paired with the slow, cocky curl of his lips.

“Round two?” Eunho’s voice was rough, but playful, sparkling with mischief.

Before Bamby could form a retort, Eunho shifted. His arms hooked under Bamby’s thighs, and with terrifying ease, he lifted him up off his lap.

“Wait—what the—!” Bamby yelped, arms scrambling tighter around Eunho’s neck as his long legs flailed in the air.

Eunho only laughed, smug and delighted, as he stood. “Relax, Bamby. I’ve got you.”

And then he threw him.

Bamby landed with a bounce on the mattress, wide-eyed and breathless, glaring murderously at the silvered-haired menace now crawling over him. But his indignation faltered when Eunho’s hands pressed down on either side of him, pinning him to the bed, eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and something deeper.

Eunho leaned down, so close their noses brushed, his grin sharp and infuriating.

“Now…” he murmured, voice low as his lips ghosted over Bamby’s, “let’s see if you’re still gonna complain about the hype.”

And before Bamby could fire back, Eunho kissed him again, harder, deeper, pinning him beneath his weight like he had no intention of letting him go.

Pinned to the mattress, Bamby felt his stomach twist with a mixture of irritation and heat as Eunho’s grin widened above him.

Eunho kissed him again, slow at first, just enough pressure to keep him wanting, then pulling back before Bamby could chase it.

“Annoying,” Bamby muttered, breathless.

Eunho chuckled, brushing his thumb across Bamby’s swollen lower lip. “Annoying… but you’re not telling me to stop.”

Before Bamby could snap back, Eunho dipped in again, this time catching his lip between his teeth and tugging lightly. The sharp little jolt it sent through Bamby’s chest made him flinch—and Eunho beamed, as if he’d just unlocked a new discovery.

Bamby turned his face away, ears burning. “Shut up.”

Eunho followed the movement, trailing kisses across his jaw instead, slower, teasing. Then he shifted down to Bamby’s neck again, deliberately dragging his teeth and tongue along sensitive skin just to see how Bamby would react.

Sure enough, a hiss slipped from Bamby’s throat, followed by his hands tightening around Eunho’s shoulders, nails digging in.

Eunho pulled back just enough to smirk down at him. “Two for two. You’re easy, Bamby.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Eunho’s grin widened before he dipped back down, sucking gently at a spot just below Bamby’s ear. Bamby’s back arched before he could stop it, a sharp breath escaping his lips.

Eunho laughed into his skin, the vibration making Bamby shudder. “Oh, that one was nice.”

His hands started to wander more deliberately now, one sliding under Bamby’s shirt, fingertips tracing lazy, ticklish patterns up his ribs, the other pressing firmly at his hip to keep him pinned. Each touch drew out little shifts, gasps, twitches. Each one catalogued carefully in Eunho’s mind, like he was mapping him out.

“Stop—experimenting on me,” Bamby managed between breaths, his voice sharper than he felt.

“Can’t,” Eunho whispered against his collarbone, lips brushing as he spoke. “You’re too much fun.”

Bamby squirmed beneath him, caught between wanting to throw him off and wanting to find out what Eunho would try next. His body betrayed him every time, arching, tightening, clinging, while Eunho’s voice and laughter filled the space around them.

By now, it wasn’t about proving rumors true. Eunho was reveling in it—the challenge of dragging every sound, every twitch, every hint of surrender out of the one person who never gave him an inch.

And Bamby, hazy and flushed, hated how close Eunho was to winning.

Eunho’s grin shifted, sharper now, the kind of smile that meant trouble. He’d gotten what he wanted—the gasps, the shivers, the muffled protests that weren’t really protests, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

The hand at his hip slid lower, gripping firmly at the back of his thigh. In one smooth motion, Eunho tugged, spreading him open and pressing their hips flush. Bamby’s entire body jolted at the contact, heat flooding him faster than he could clamp down on it.

Eunho groaned into the kiss. His free hand roamed higher now, sliding under Bamby’s shirt without hesitation, palm flattening against the bare skin of his stomach before dragging upward, slow and deliberate. The contrast of warmth and calloused fingertips sent shivers racing across Bamby’s skin, his breath breaking into ragged gasps against Eunho’s mouth.

Every little twitch, every bitten-back sound—Eunho chased them, pressed harder, kissed deeper. His tongue tangled with Bamby’s, alternating between rough strokes and teasing flicks until he had him panting, lips swollen and wet.

When Bamby tried to twist his face away to catch a proper breath, Eunho didn’t let him. His mouth slid down instantly to his throat, sucking hard at the skin there, teeth grazing over his pulse. The sharp sound that tore out of Bamby’s throat made his ears burn, and Eunho laughed against his neck, low and wicked.

“You sound better than I imagined,” he murmured, breath hot. “Way better.”

Bamby’s hands, meant to shove him away, clutched tighter at his shoulders instead. His legs shifted around Eunho’s hips, unthinking, pulling him in closer even as his brain screamed stop, stop, stop.

Eunho groaned, grinding into the new closeness, his voice rough against Bamby’s ear. “You’re killing me, Bamby… do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

Bamby squeezed his eyes shut, heat crawling all over his body. His mind was a mess—anger, humiliation, and something he didn’t want to name tangled together, but Eunho wasn’t giving him space to think. Every kiss, every press of his hands was making it harder to breathe, harder to deny.

And Eunho knew it. He could feel Bamby unraveling beneath him, could taste his surrender in every shaky breath. And it only drove him further, determined now not just to prove the rumors right, but to make Bamby understand exactly why people whispered about him at all.

Eunho’s mouth claimed him again before Bamby could catch his breath. The kiss was rough, consuming, leaving no room for thought, just heat and pressure and the dizzying slide of tongue against tongue.

His hand that had been teasing under Bamby’s shirt pushed higher, fingers splaying across his chest, the warmth of his palm grounding and overwhelming all at once. His thumb brushed over a sensitive spot and Bamby gasped, the sound breaking sharp against Eunho’s mouth.

The hand at Bamby’s thigh gripped tighter, hauling his leg higher around his waist until their hips pressed flush again, the friction making Bamby jolt. Eunho pressed down deliberately, grinding just enough to make the pink choke on another sound.

“Eunho—” His voice cracked, somewhere between plea and warning.

“Mm?” Eunho hummed against his neck, lips brushing over flushed skin before sucking hard at the hollow of his throat. “What is it, Bamby? Want me to stop?”

Bamby’s nails dug into his shoulders, but the answer that left his lips wasn’t the sharp denial he wanted—it was a shaky exhale, wordless, betraying him completely.

Eunho smirked against his skin. “Didn’t think so.”

His mouth traveled lower, dragging wet, open-mouthed kisses down Bamby’s neck, his collarbone, even teasing at the edge of his shirt collar. Each nip and lick was calculated, designed to force out another reaction. His kiss was merciless this time, tongue pushing deep, dominating, as if he could map every inch of him by mouth alone.

Bamby’s body betrayed him at every turn—hips lifting instinctively to meet Eunho’s, legs tightening around his waist, arms clinging to his neck like he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to. His head spun, flooded with heat and sensation until thought itself was impossible.

Neither of them knew how long they’d been lost in it. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. Time dissolved in the haze, leaving only them, tangled and unwilling to stop.

RING

The shrill ring of Bamby’s phone tore through the room like an alarm bell.

Both of them jolted, separating with a rough gasp, eyes wide and unfocused. Eunho’s chest heaved as he hovered above him, hair sticking out even messier than usual, lips swollen and red. Bamby scrambled upright, nearly tripping over his own limbs as he reached for the phone on his desk, fumbling to answer it just to have something to do with his hands.

“H-hello,” he muttered, voice wrecked and uneven.

“Bamby!” Hamin’s cheerful voice chirped through the speaker, bright and oblivious. “I was thinking we should go out this weekend. There’s a new movie coming out. Want to join?”

Bamby swallowed hard, dragging a shaky hand across his mouth. He could feel Eunho’s stare on him, hot and unrelenting, even as he tried to focus on the voice in his ear.

“…Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” he mumbled, throat dry.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later.” Hamin hung up, leaving silence in his wake.

Bamby slowly lowered the phone, staring blankly at the black screen like it might give him an escape. His entire face burned, ears hot, breath still unsteady.

When he finally looked up, Eunho was still there—half-kneeling on the bed, chest rising and falling, his face just as flushed. His smirk was gone, replaced with something unreadable, his dark eyes locked on Bamby like he was seeing him for the first time.

The silence stretched.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

They stared at each other, the silence between them louder than the phone that had interrupted.

Flushed skin. Lips red and swollen. Hair mussed beyond repair. Their chests rose and fell unevenly, breaths still shallow as though their bodies hadn’t caught up with the sudden stop.

Every brush of fingers, every stolen sound, every jolt of heat replayed in their minds with humiliating clarity. What was supposed to be a joke—one kiss to prove a point—had spiraled into something else entirely. Something heavier. Something that clung to their skin like the ghost of Eunho’s mouth still pressed against Bamby’s neck.

Bamby’s throat worked, dry and tight, before he finally forced words out.

“…Fine,” he muttered, his voice scratchy, cracked. The sound made him cringe. “The rumor’s true. You… you’re good.” His eyes darted away, ears burning. “So… you can leave now. You proved it.”

The words were awkward, brittle, like he’d grabbed the first excuse that came to mind just to cut the tension.

Eunho blinked at him, still kneeling on the mattress, too stunned to fire back with the smug remark that normally came so easily. His brain lagged, replaying the way Bamby had clung to him, the sounds he’d dragged out, the way he looked right now, flushed, rattled, wrecked .

“…Yeah,” Eunho finally said, dumb and automatic. “Guess I did.”

He pushed off the bed, gathering himself, shoving his hands in his pockets like that would somehow ground him. He made it to the door, each step giving him back a little more of his usual composure. 

But he couldn’t—he shouldn’t—just leave like this. Not when he had technically won.

Hand on the knob, he glanced back, and his mouth curved into something more familiar.

“Hey, Bamby.”

Bamby looked up, already bristling at the tone.

Eunho smirked, eyes glittering despite the wreckage on his face. “Make sure you give me a five-star rating. And… you look completely wrecked, by the way.”

Before Bamby could react, Eunho yanked the door open and bolted, laughing breathlessly down the hall. A pillow thudded against the doorframe, narrowly missing him.

“Bastard,” Bamby hissed under his breath, slamming the door shut again.

The room was too quiet now. He pressed his back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, legs pulled up, hand drifting involuntarily to his lips. They still tingled. His skin still burned where Eunho had touched him.

Across the hall, Eunho leaned against the wall, chest hammering like he’d just sprinted a mile. He ran a hand through his hair, but it only made the mess worse. His lips still tasted faintly of Bamby. His breath wouldn’t steady.

“Shit,” he whispered, shaking his head with a breathless laugh. His pulse thundered in his ears. He knew it, he looked just as wrecked.

“That was dangerous.” They said in unison.

And neither of them could pretend otherwise.