Juyeon isn't a bad person.

He most certainly, gun to his head, would not classify himself as being so.

Or, not deliberately bad. At least. But, he is a fool at times—he is willing to admit that much. A fool, incapable of expressing his true feelings.

They are there though, the feelings, he feels every single one of them so very deeply. How happiness can make his heart burst, and the way guilt will eat him up from the inside. But still, he doesn't know how to show how he really feels.

This is what sometimes gets him into trouble and causes him to make mistakes.

Sometimes, deliberately.

But Juyeon can't decide whether or not he made a mistake that one night, one and a half years ago.

Deliberately, or not, he really doesn't know.

A curious kiss in the dark on New Year's eve. A moment found at the bottom of loneliness, and courage gathered after too many bottles of Soju. Maybe it had been what Juyeon wanted all along. His best friend's lips against his own. Just once. Just to try it.

One kiss. Nervous hands on soft skin and hearts about to burst. Breathy laughter, and confetti in his hair sparkling like the stars in Hyunjae's chestnut eyes. One kiss, under the moonlit sky painted with colorful fireworks, and when Juyeon closes his eyes he can still see them. All of the colors.

Just one kiss.

But, that is one-plus-infinite kisses ago.

He was drunk, so was Hyunjae. And they were just friends—still are. Juyeon makes sure to mention that whenever he can. Even when he doesn't want to, even when his lips are longing for the sweet spot on Hyunjae's neck. In his head, it is still there.

They're just friends.

It's better this way.

Hyunjae is everything Juyeon wishes he could be—and all the things he yearns to have.

To Juyeon, Hyunjae is attentive eyes and gentle smiles. The calming scent of petrichor on a warm summer's eve, the sun shimmering through the windows on a lazy Sunday morning. He is bubbly foam of the ocean waves, and pearlescent seashells found in the sand, the first person to offer an elder his seat in the bus, and always asking Juyeon if he remembers to eat well.

He is all of the most simple, yet beautiful things in the world.

All the things Juyeon is too scared to let in.

But sometimes he does, although secretly. Although a little. When Hyunjae is slouched over his pile of open books, reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and he mumbles curse-words under his breath, struggling through the heavy pages that will lead him to his Master's degree.

When the evening sun dances over his skin, glowing and reflected in his deep brown eyes, and when he waddles back to bed in his oversized sweater, yawning against Juyeon's warm chest. Those are the times Juyeon is so close. So damn close he can taste the word on his tongue.

Boyfriend.

This is my boyfriend Hyunjae.

My boyfriend Hyunjae and I.

My Hyunjae.

But then, it slips away, dissolves into silence before it even gets a chance to become real. And Juyeon hates himself for not being honest, for letting his own mind scare him away from the things he wants the most.

Juyeon always stays the night. Inhales everything that is Lee Hyunjae in his most perfect and raw self. Drinks him in, swallows every fearful thought that maybe they are meant to be, could be, if only Juyeon wasn't such a coward. Eyes closed, he drops to the bottom of the ocean. Just one more time.

Until he is awoken by fear, and he is a mess. Dark hair in tousled locks and swollen lips fighting to stay shut, it is all reflected in the window—staring back at him, judging him.

Caught between soft sheets and the sweet scent on Hyunjae's skin, Juyeon's lungs are filled to the brim. And he is drowning while still breathing.

In the silence of the night he licks the taste of Hyunjae off his own lips, and he fights the pathetic excuse of a broken cry sitting in his throat. Of all people, Juyeon isn't allowed to cry—isn't allowed to feel hurt. Not in this moment. Not when he is so painfully aware that he is the bleak shadow covering Hyunjae's smile when he is about to fall asleep.

And it's a war against himself, against everything he thought he knew, and everything he knows he has to be, when all Juyeon really wants is to make Hyunjae smile.

I'm sorry, Hyunjae.

I wish I wasn't such a mess.

It's Friday again. It's bright neon lights blinding his eyes, and heavy bass pumping through his veins. Pure vodka shots down his throat, Juyeon winces when he swallows. But down it goes, into the pit of disappointment that Hyunjae declined the invitation for tonight.

Something else is different tonight as well. Something about Younghoon isn't as it used to be.

Perfectly trimmed brows fall into a frown, as his fingers curl around the glass in his hand. The Gangnam-born Lothario is strangely distant, eyes flickering and attention non-existing. His hand is glued to the glass, not even pointing towards random girls for Juyeon to pick up.

Not that Juyeon cares, he hates those bets.

The act he forces himself to be a part of, only to satisfy and live up to others' perception of who he should be—only to end up not only hurting himself, but Hyunjae as well. It is a battle between good and evil, between what is right and what Juyeon should believe is wrong—but why, oh why, does it feel so good? Why does Hyunjae make him feel so good?

It's a mistake he deliberately makes. He takes the bets, he gets the numbers. He flirts with pretty girls, and he does love the attention. But then, Hell hits him and he sees the devastating pain in Hyunjae's eyes.

And it is in moments like those, Juyeon knows he will never be good enough for Lee Hyunjae. Too scared and too immature to do anything else, than his weak attempt for an apology, when he leaves everyone behind and follows Hyunjae home.

"Something wrong?" Juyeon asks, more out of curiosity than actual concern.

"No, why?"

Dark eyes dart towards him, but only briefly, as the glass tips towards Younghoon's bottom lip.

Juyeon shrugs. Albeit curious, he is too lost in his own sea of thoughts to actually care.

It is brighter than the lights flashing over his skin, louder than the music blasting through his ears. He feels it. It burns his skin and pumps his heart to the brim of exploding in his ribcage. And he longs, yearns for things never meant for him.

If only Juyeon could tell someone, anyone, before he loses his mind completely. Maybe even Younghoon... Fuck, no, not Younghoon—never Younghoon. He wouldn't understand.

Or, would he? After all, they have been friends for so long.

And Juyeon is already wasted.

"Hyung? Have you ever kissed a guy?"

"What?" Younghoon nearly chokes on his drink. "Is that why you've been looking at me so weirdly tonight?"

"What? No! God, no!"

"Could do without that stank face though. But seriously, why are you asking me?"

"Just wondering."

With a shrug, Juyeon lets the conversation fall forgotten to the bottom of his drink. He was just wondering, after all.

A drunken mistake should not be classified as being deliberate, not tonight, at least. Juyeon is certain of that.

When his eyes are blinded and his mind numbed from alcohol, his judgment fails. And he is being foolish once again.

When all he wants, craves, is for brown doe eyes to look at him, and nobody else than him. When he wants to lick the taste of his own longing off of rosy lips, and let his fingers dance over dirty blonde hair and sun-kissed skin.

His hand fumbles into his pocket, and sticky fingers slide across the screen of his phone. He shouldn't do this, he really shouldn't. It's a bad, bad idea.

"Hey, it's me. Can I come over?"

A small yawn, the soft crinkle of a pillow. "Sure."

"Juyeon, you're drunk."

Hyunjae's voice is soft. It is warm and embraces Juyeon, just like the touch of his skin and the sweet scent lingering, not only around him, but throughout his entire apartment. And Juyeon revels in it. It smells like home.

"Not that much," he replies, as his anxious hands finally find their calm, squeezing at Hyunjae's hips.

"You need to get some rest."

"I need you ."

"I'm right here," Hyunjae chuckles softly.

Everything about Hyunjae is soft. His smile, his laugh, every wonderful part of his skin. And Juyeon knows every curve, every dip and every last bit of Hyunjae, as if he is a masterpiece created by Juyeon's own hands.

"No, I-" Juyeon breathes in. "I need you. Really, need you."

And Juyeon really, fucking, does need Hyunjae. Tonight more than ever, in ways he has never needed him before. His lungs crumble and his skin burns when they are not together, and the longing has become unbearable.

Juyeon really is drowning. In fiery despair, and all the things he never dares to say. In the fear of losing Hyunjae, without ever having him, and the dreadful realization of what actually having him, would label Juyeon as.

"Hyunjae..."

Their lips collide. A ravenous predator takes down his defenseless prey. Falls onto the bed with tangled up limbs, and trembling fingers under a vodka stained shirt. And when he licks desire into Hyunjae's mouth, then, Juyeon is fearless.

His hands slip down Hyunjae's waist, squeeze in between the bed and the checkered pajama pants Hyunjae is wearing. They are soft but Juyeon would much rather feel the skin hiding underneath, knowing it will feel even softer. Gently, he leaves testing rubs against Hyunjae's ass, and a soft moan falls onto his tongue.

"I want you so bad," he whispers—his hands now greedily taking everything they can. "I want to feel you around me."

He is hard, so fucking hard he could finish without Hyunjae touching him at all. The bed lets out small creaks as Juyeon grinds against Hyunjae—lets him know exactly how he makes Juyeon feel.

"Don't you want it, baby?" he purrs, sucking down Hyunjae's neck.

"You're drunk," Hyunjae chuckles softly, fingers lost in Juyeon's hair. "Go take a cold shower, and if you still want me then, then you can take me."

Hyunjae is so adorable, even now, with flushed cheeks and ruffled up hair, matching the playful purr in Juyeon's voice. It's Juyeon's own fault, for always saying things like this when drunk, but never going through with them, and now he hates himself for it. Pouting, he rolls out of bed.

"Okay, fine."

Juyeon stumbles into the bathroom. All drunken gestures and uncoordinated feet, he hears Hyunjae let out a breathy laughter behind him. In the blue IKEA cup on the sink he finds the red toothbrush Hyunjae bought for him. It's there, in its usual spot, right next to Hyunjae's white one.

Of course. Because they're friends.

When Juyeon returns, with damp hair and a towel around his waist, Hyunjae has fallen asleep. Hugging his pillow and with a light snore at his upper lip. Books upon books are spread out on the table in the one-bedroom apartment, with Hyunjae's golden framed reading glasses on top. He must have been studying late into the night, while Juyeon was out wasting his life away.

The storm inside Juyeon settles for a moment, when he sits down on the edge of the bed. A smile creeps over his lips, as he places a kiss on the small beauty mark decorating Hyunjae's nose, and Juyeon knows—knows that they are more than just friends. And way more than fleeting lust found after midnight.

I love you, Hyunjae.

But you deserve better than me.

So much more than I can ever give you.

Under the moonlit sky, hidden from the world outside, Juyeon feels unworthy as he crawls under the covers, and he is there, in his usual spot. Right next to Hyunjae.

But the silence is louder than thunder, and Juyeon's hand falls. Slips away from the lock of dirty blonde hair, like he slips away from what his heart tells him is right. A gentle breath fans over his neck, but there is no air left for Juyeon to breathe in.

His trembling hands curl around the sheet, as his throat is clogged by every word he has ever wanted to say. To him, to Hyunjae.

And it hurts, so much Juyeon wants to scream. Wants to run and never look back. Rip out his own heart and tear it into pieces. All because of him.

Because of himself. And all the things he doesn't know how to say.

Hyunjae deserves better than that. He deserves someone who will hold his hand, and never let go. Someone who tells him every day how much they love him. And Juyeon can't be that person, no matter how much he wants to.

In the dark hours of the night, Juyeon kisses Hyunjae one last time. He whispers sorry under his breath, and covered by the darkness he leaves the apartment like a pathetic criminal, as tears start to fall.

It's time to let go.

Of all the things that they are, of what they never were, and everything they could have been.

If only he wasn't such a coward.

Maybe Juyeon is a bad person, after all.