Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Chanhee-ya,” Younghoon’s voice is hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

This doesn’t sound good. “What is it?” Chanhee puts his pants back on, tying a neat knot at the front.

“Why don’t you ever want to… switch?”

Chanhee grabs his shirt from where it was lying on the chair and slips it on, ruffling his hair to get it falling in place. Once he’s dressed and proper, he turns to Younghoon, who’s still curled up on the bed and swathed in the sheets. Chanhee sighs. Younghoon’s eyes blink up at him as he approaches, long black hair falling into his eyes.

Chanhee sits at the edge of the bed. Younghoon looks up at him shyly.

“Are you bored of me? Hm?” He fixes Younghoon’s hair, trying to tuck it behind his ears. “You want to try something new?” Younghoon’s fringe falls back into his face.

“No. I was just wondering.” Younghoon mumbles, eyes looking away. Chanhee knows it’s simply curiosity, and that Younghoon hasn’t shown any signs of getting tired or bored of him, but it would be good to reassure him anyway. They’ve done a lot with the stick— the ten minutes Chanhee just spent rubbing ointment all over Younghoon’s body is proof— but maybe it was time for the carrot.

“I’m sorry puppy, you know I don’t bottom.” Chanhee pinches Younghoon’s cheek gently. “But you’ve been so good to me lately that I think you deserve a treat. I’ll wear something nice for you next time, okay?”

Younghoon’s eyes shine. “Something nice?” They might not be dating, but Chanhee has grown fond of Younghoon all the same, in his cute little mannerisms, and his sweet nature.

“Mhm.” Chanhee had planned on surprising Younghoon for Halloween, but he might have to move it up his schedule. “I promise you’ll like it.” There’s nothing Younghoon wouldn’t like Chanhee wearing, but he omits that part. Chanhee stands, stretching his arms as he does. “I have to get home now, but I’ll see you at the same time next week, right?”

Younghoon nods and Chanhee is out of the room.

Chanhee falls asleep the second his head hits his pillow and sinks into a memory.

“Kevin,” Chanhee breathes, but he feels so light-headed and warm with Kevin kissing the bare skin of his chest. “Kevinnie, please.” Chanhee feels drunk on it, the feeling of Kevin’s lips leaving their mark on him, him finding his way down, the imprint of Kevin’s smirk on his skin.

Kevin pauses, pressing his cheek against Chanhee’s chest as he looks upward at him. “Hm?” Chanhee wondered if he could hear Chanhee’s heartbeat, beating thunderously in his ribcage.

“I want it. I want you.” This isn’t a new thought, but this is the first time Chanhee has allowed himself to say it out loud. He’s been wanting Kevin for a while and he thinks of it every time they’re like this, when they’re kissing and touching and fooling around— he wants it to get serious.

Kevin kisses the center of his chest where his lips had hovered over, in the soft middle between his ribs. “Are you sure?” Over his heart.

“I’m sure.” He’s never been more sure of anything.

“Okay,” Kevin murmurs softly, a little smile showing itself. He starts to get up, separating himself from Chanhee. “I’ll just—”

Chanhee grabs Kevin’s wrist before he’s too far away. It already feels too cold without Kevin on his chest. “I want you to have me.” Chanhee wants him, wants Kevin so badly that he’s shaking as he says this. “Make me yours.” That’s all he wants; to be Kevin’s, to surrender all of himself to him.

Kevin smiles as he sits back down, nodding gently. “Okay.” He tips Chanhee’s chin upwards and leans in for a short kiss. “Okay,” He murmurs over Chanhee’s lips. Then he’s kissing Chanhee again, tipping him back until Chanhee’s back hits the mattress.

Chanhee wakes up with a start.

Chanhee sighs, kicking off his shoes at the doorway. Work is always exhausting and coming home knowing that he would have to clean and make dinner and go right to bed is just as depressing every day.

“I’ll shower first.” Chanhee mutters as if there was anyone to hear him.

After a quick shower to relieve all the stress and when he has a towel slung around his shoulders, Chanhee remembers what he said to Younghoon— that he would wear something nice next time. For Younghoon. He roots around in his closet for the box he bought two weeks ago, all tucked away.

He’ll try it on, just to see how it would look. He needs to make sure it fits right on him, because it’s the first time Chanhee has bought anything like this and he did it online, too embarrassed to go in person.

Ten minutes and a lot of fussing with the strings later, Chanhee’s outfit is on. He looks at the full-length mirror in the corner of his room. It’s a pastel pink lace lingerie set, a tied halter top of lace that stretched across his flat chest, and delicate panties paired with a garter belt. He had gotten sheer white thigh highs to go with it, which he clipped onto the garters, and after some reluctance, a set of cat ears.

Chanhee takes those and slides them on his head too, the thin headband disappearing into his hair. There’s no doubt in his mind that Younghoon would love this, especially the fluffy pink cat ears. He likes it when Chanhee tries things he thinks Younghoon would like. But just as Chanhee was about to reach up and take them off, he gets interrupted.

“You look pretty.”

Chanhee stares into the mirror and sees something that shouldn’t be there— Kevin perched on his bed next to him, smiling that smirk of his.

Chanhee’s blood runs cold as he whips around towards the bed to see nobody there. But when he turns back to the mirror, Kevin is standing right behind him now, still smiling softly.

“Kevin?” Chanhee whispers in disbelief, goosebumps lining his arms and neck. Was this a dream? A hallucination? “Am I finally losing it?”

“Kevinnie.” Kevin whispers his name back into Chanhee’s ear, never breaking their eye contact through the mirror. He looks terrifyingly real in the mirror, still with the same long dark haircut and clothes he was wearing when Chanhee saw him last, with shiny eyes and color in his cheeks.

If this is a dream, Chanhee isn’t sure he wants to wake up. “Why are you here?” Chanhee shivers.

It wasn’t cold in his apartment before, but all Chanhee feels is cold and embarrassingly underdressed— not that this was anything Kevin had never seen before. Chanhee feels ridiculous standing in his room in bare lingerie and cat ears on. But this made sense for Kevin; of course, he’d pick a time like this to show up.

Kevin grins.

“I missed you.” Those little words.

In the mirror, Chanhee watches as Kevin’s fingers skim over Chanhee’s forearm, dangling by his side, and Chanhee can feel it, a faint warmth traveling up his skin. It doesn’t feel like human touch, but it’s present, it’s intentional. Chanhee isn’t dreaming.

“Chanhee-ya, you feel that?” Kevin giggles, fingers dancing lightly over Chanhee’s shoulder. It’s just a touch but it’s overwhelming— Kevin laughing in the mirror, Kevin’s touch on his skin, Kevin saying his name. Chanhee can feel it all too well; something deep in his gut starts to swirl awake at Kevin’s voice and his touch, flooding back after being locked away for so long.

“Yes,” Chanhee breathes in a barely audible way as if he’s afraid that talking too loud would make Kevin disappear for good.

“You’re so pretty.”

Then there’s something new in Kevin’s expression— tenderness has come to replace playfulness. He reaches to pet the back of Chanhee’s hair, fingers lingering at the nape of Chanhee’s neck.

“All dressed up.”

For you, Chanhee wants to finish that sentence. But that would be a lie. All Chanhee can do is stand still and watch Kevin in the mirror.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Kevin frowns a little, his other hand touching Chanhee’s cheek. Chanhee is so fixated on watching Kevin that he didn’t even notice the tears spilling from his eyes, dripping slowly down his face. If Kevin was really here, he would pull Chanhee in and let him cry before wiping the tears away. But all Chanhee feels now is a warm breeze against his cheek that does nothing to dry or stop them.

“Kevinnie.” The word sounds almost unfamiliar to his ears. Chanhee hasn’t said his name, not like that, in so long that he has to recreate the syllables in his mouth one by one. But he hasn’t forgotten; his tongue hasn’t forgotten. “I miss you.” It takes everything for Chanhee not to break, not to let the two years he spent rebuilding himself fall into pieces.

“I know,” Kevin coos, kissing the back of Chanhee’s head. “I know.”

Kevin was never this touchy or affectionate when he was around, but now he’s been touching Chanhee nonstop— that faint warmth on his neck, on his cheek, over his ear. To remind Chanhee maybe, or to torture him.

“Don’t cry anymore, Chanhee-ya,” Kevin says softly. “I’ll come again.” Then he leans over Chanhee’s shoulder, staring Chanhee down with a knowing expression, lips over Chanhee’s earlobe with a warm puff of air almost like real breathing. “Fuck him good for me.”

Kevin disappears. The knot holding Chanhee’s halter top together tugs loose and the whole garment falls apart. Chanhee falls apart.

Room 223 like last time
I can’t wait to see you :)

Chanhee tightens his grip on the paper bag in his left hand and the box in it.

He steps into the hotel lobby and walks towards the lift, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Nobody tries to look at him either.

This thing he has going on with Younghoon has been happening for a few months. Younghoon is one of Juyeon’s friends, someone that’s been in Chanhee’s periphery every once in a while, until they officially met at Juyeon’s birthday party. Chanhee has eyes; Younghoon is gorgeous. But more than that, they got along great that night, which ended with Younghoon drunkenly confessing that he was interested in Chanhee.

It was the first time since Kevin that someone had really wanted Chanhee. So Chanhee indulges Younghoon in this every week at this hotel. No dates, no bottoming— those are Chanhee’s only rules and Younghoon had agreed. He didn’t say anything about feelings. He should’ve.

Chanhee glances at the bag in his hand.

He knocks on the door and Younghoon opens it, freshly washed in a hotel bathrobe. “Hey.” He smiles eagerly.

“Hey,” Chanhee says, with half the enthusiasm. He closes the door behind him. “How’s work?”

“Busy.” Younghoon stands patiently as Chanhee takes his shoes off. “You?” This is the little small talk they’ve incorporated into their routine to help them ease into things.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” Ever since Kevin showed up in his mirror, he has wondered every night if it was a hallucination. At night, he dreams of Kevin, sometimes of them having sex, sometimes of them lounging on the couch and eating chips together; it hurts all the same when Chanhee wakes up.

“Have you tried melatonin?” Younghoon suggests empathetically. “It might—”

“I don’t need pills.” Chanhee remembers the pills. Pills, rattling in a green bottle. They make the dreams worse. “It’s just work stress getting to me, that’s all.” Liar, Kevin’s voice whispers.

When he glances over at Younghoon, he looks deflated. That’s not what Chanhee wanted.

“Hey,” Chanhee leans in. “Sorry that I’m being short. I’ve been tired lately.”

Younghoon smiles in the shy way that he does when he’s getting into the headspace. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this.” He always offers Chanhee an out, but Chanhee never has to take it.

“I want to.” Chanhee murmurs, hand on Younghoon’s neck. “I want to, puppy.”

Instantly, Younghoon melts.

Chanhee smiles. “I’m going to get ready in the bathroom, I want you to kneel here and keep your eyes closed until I’m back.” Younghoon nods eagerly, already scrambling to his knees.

Sex isn’t personal. Chanhee repeats it to himself as he ties the knot to his halter top and clips the hem of his thigh highs onto his garter. This is just sex, just physical relief, and they both are fully aware of it. Chanhee turns his back to the bathroom mirror and ignores the voice that sounds like Kevin, murmuring, If sex isn’t personal, what are you doing it for, darling?

But there’s no avoiding it when he’s sliding his cat ears on, trying to get them just right. Kevin appears behind him in the mirror, stepping out of his thoughts and into the mirror.

“Cute.” Kevin purrs. His hands hover over Chanhee’s shoulders and if Chanhee doesn’t think about it too much, he could believe that Kevin is really there.

“Now’s a bad time,” Chanhee whispers. He’s hoping Younghoon won’t hear him only a door away.

“I think now is a very good time,” Kevin murmurs. “You look beautiful.” Kevin’s hands fall away and regroup on either side of Chanhee’s hips, over the garter belt. “For him.”

Chanhee trembles. “I’m sorry.” The guilt is chewing away at him now, for fucking someone else when Kevin is right here. It’s gnawing, like Kevin’s hold on his hips.

“What are you sorry for, darling?” Kevin laughs. His fingers press into Chanhee’s waist, warm fingerprints making themselves known there. “I love seeing you like this.” His hands start to slip down, curving down to Chanhee’s ass and giving him a faint squeeze.

“Kevinnie.” Chanhee moans softly, half for the way his body is turning on to Kevin’s presence and half for the pain he feels from hearing Kevin’s laugh. Kevin is right here, hands on Chanhee’s skin, but Chanhee can’t touch him back despite the way his skin yearns for it.

“As I said, fuck him good for me.” Kevin grins, locking eyes with Chanhee in the mirror. He presses a kiss to Chanhee’s shoulder, a burning imprint on the peak of it. Then he’s gone once more.

When Chanhee has finished cleaning Younghoon up, when he’s throwing the dirty towel into the bathtub, when he’s all alone again in the bathroom, he stares into the mirror. Kevin doesn’t appear.

Chanhee doesn’t see Kevin for another two weeks. He goes to work, he comes home, and he fucks Younghoon every Saturday, but there’s still no Kevin no matter how long Chanhee spends standing in front of the full-length mirror in his room. But Chanhee knows Kevin isn’t done with him— that he’s merely waiting for the right time.

One night, when he’s stepping out of the shower in a towel, Chanhee glances in the still steamy mirror and Kevin is there, without any announcement or fanfare.

“Chanhee-ya,” he says brightly, leaning against the bathroom door. “Did you miss me?”

“Don’t, Kevin.” Chanhee opens the mirror cabinet and when he closes it, Kevin is standing next to him, blurry in the bathroom steam. He tries not to let Kevin distract him as he starts on his skincare routine.

Kevin doesn’t touch him this time, nor does he say anything as he stands there and watches Chanhee put on toner, then serums, then moisturizer. The way he used to, when he was in a more human form, asking him why he needed to be slapping all sorts of creams on himself.

“Are you going to say anything?” Chanhee murmurs. It was difficult to get used to life without Kevin’s background chatter, but now that Kevin is here, it was strange not to hear his remarks and teasing— prodding at Chanhee’s buttons in the way only he could.

Kevin pouts a little but doesn’t move. “Does he fuck you?”

Chanhee almost drops his bottle of toner. “What?”

Kevin licks his lips. “Don’t be shy with the details, darling.” He’s grinning slyly. “I want to know all of it.”

Chanhee takes a deep breath, putting his skincare things away. When he closes the cabinet this time, Kevin hasn’t moved, but the steam has cleared away and Kevin looks sharper, more insistent. “He doesn’t.” Chanhee stares at Kevin through the mirror. “He doesn’t fuck me.”

Kevin’s expression turns into one of disappointment. “Why not?” Something in Chanhee’s stomach turns at the way Kevin is looking at him, concerned and worried, like he could see all the thoughts Chanhee has been having about him.

“Why are you so interested in my sex life? Don’t you have better things to be doing?” Chanhee crosses his arms. “You’re a ghost. Go stalk your friends or family or something.”

Kevin is dead. That is a fact, because Chanhee was there when Kevin’s sister played a slideshow of his baby pictures and Chanhee was there when Kevin’s dad broke down during his eulogy and Chanhee was there when they lowered him into the ground. There is nothing tying Chanhee to him anymore, now that they don’t live together, they’re not dating— not anymore.

He’s no longer Kevin’s; not when Kevin isn’t here to have him.

“But Chanhee-ya,” Kevin says more softly. “You’re the one who needs me.”

Chanhee swallows. He looks away from the mirror. He opens the bathroom door and walks into his bedroom instead, letting his towel fall away as he takes out his pajamas. Normal routine.

“Chanhee,” Kevin sings, from the mirror.

“What?” Chanhee pulls up his briefs.

Kevin is comfortably sprawled out on his bed, feet kicking in the air. “We still have to figure this out, don’t we?” He says it like he’s talking about what to order for dinner. Kevin’s unbelievable— unbelievably himself.

“Why now?” Chanhee says, to his bed instead of the mirror. “Why not a year ago, when I really needed you? Why didn’t you come when I was crying myself to sleep over you? Why now?”

Chanhee doesn’t look into the mirror, staring only at the empty spot on his bed. Kevin stays silent, but Chanhee feels that familiar warmth ghost over his cheeks. He only knows he’s crying when Kevin tries to wipe the tears away, because he thought he’d have no more tears left by now.

“Kevinnie,” Chanhee falls to the ground, his knees pressed against the hardwood floor and his body shaking from the sobbing. “I miss you so much.” The words would never be enough; words could not convey the hollowness that’s been living in Chanhee since Kevin’s been gone, the way his body remembers Kevin’s touch and craves it.

“I know,” Kevin says, the feeling of his lips touching Chanhee’s forehead, cheek, the space on his neck under his ear. He knows. “I miss you, too.” They both know it’s not true that there’s nothing tying them together anymore— they’ll always be connected, because Chanhee will always love him, helplessly, inevitably.

Chanhee weeps until his eyes are red and swollen because it’s the only way to relieve this ache in his chest, knelt on the ground in front of his mirror in nothing but his briefs. In the mirror, Kevin is kneeling on the ground across from him with his forehead pressed against Chanhee’s, his hands cupping Chanhee’s face in quiet reassurance; in the room, Chanhee is all alone.

Chanhee can never escape from his dreams. This isn’t a dream as much a memory replayed, straight from the tape.

Kevin is on top of him. “Chanhee-ya, are you nervous?”

“No,” Chanhee huffs out a lie. Kevin starts to smile because he knows when Chanhee’s lying.

“Don’t be.” Kevin leans in for a kiss, one hand cupping Chanhee’s jaw and the other slippery with lube. “Just relax.”

“Just relax,” Chanhee echoes, unconvinced.

Kevin’s smile grows into a grin. “You trust me, right?”

“I guess.” Chanhee mirrors his smile. He means it.

“Here we go.” Kevin says softly, one hand still on Chanhee’s neck as his other hand guides his cock to Chanhee’s entrance. Then Kevin is pushing in, gently and almost achingly slow. “Doing okay?”

Chanhee groans. Kevin had prepared him enough that it doesn’t hurt, but now he needs Kevin to move. “You can move, Kevinnie. Please move.”

Kevin starts to thrust at a slow pace, Chanhee’s breathing syncing up to the thrusts. Chanhee looks up at Kevin, whose grip on the back of his neck is starting to tighten a little. Kevin might seem unaffected, but Chanhee can see the way his brows are held tight and the way his lips have disappeared into a line.

“Are you worried about hurting me?” Chanhee is the one who reaches up, pinching Kevin’s cheek.

“Of course I am.” Kevin pauses, fully inside Chanhee. “Your first time—”

“I can take it.” Chanhee says firmly. He might look delicate, but he’s not. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin sucks in a breath, then he starts to pick up the pace and he’s no longer afraid. He’s fucking Chanhee, faster, harder, and Chanhee feels it— Kevin fucking him just right, the feeling of being full of him.

“Kevinnie,” Chanhee cries. Now he knows why people walk away with claw marks on their backs and bite marks on their necks. He reaches for Kevin’s back, reaching for any part of him to pull him closer.

Kevin leans in to kiss him, thrusting faster and faster, as Chanhee’s entire body shudders. Kevin breaks their kiss but he’s still hovering over Chanhee’s lips, breathing hot air over them. “Fuck.” His hand reaches down to take care of Chanhee’s leaking cock, fingers wrapped around the head as Chanhee lets out another groan.

“Please, Kevinnie,” Chanhee moans. “I want to come. Please.” Kevin starts stroking his dick, in time with his thrusts, a feeling so overwhelming that all Chanhee can do is pant and mumble Kevin’s name, faster, deeper. Kevin is grunting right over his lips, his expression purely focused on Chanhee and making Chanhee come.

“Come, baby, come.” Kevin fucks him hard and after three more thrusts, Chanhee comes with a heavy groan, eyelids squeezing shut from the intensity.

In Chanhee’s breathless afterglow, Kevin pulls out gently, discarding the condom. Chanhee’s eyes are still closed, his breathing slowing to a regular pace.

“How was it?” Kevin asks cheerily, lying down next to Chanhee.

Chanhee opens his eyes, nose-to-nose with Kevin. “It was amazing.” Kevin looks so proud of himself that Chanhee could flick him on the forehead— Chanhee chooses to kiss him instead. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kevin murmurs, wrapping his arms around Chanhee’s waist as they fall asleep.

When Chanhee wakes up, he’s curled up in front of the mirror and his body aches— from sleeping on the ground, from waking up alone.

“So,” Changmin stares straight into Chanhee’s eyes. “You’re telling me that not only is Kevin’s ghost back to haunt you, but he wants to fuck you… as a ghost?”

“And he knows about Younghoon, somehow.” Chanhee takes another bite of his french toast. He omits the part about sobbing in front of the mirror and waking up on the floor. There’s a lot he shares with Changmin, maybe too much, but he doesn’t want to sound too pathetic. Even though Changmin was the one who cooked and cleaned and took care of him for two whole months after Kevin’s funeral.

“I think we should circle back to the ghost sex.” Changmin folds his arms on his lap. “How would that work? Does he have a ghost dick?” From anyone else, it would’ve sounded like teasing, but Changmin is fully serious.

“I don’t know.” Chanhee pauses to think. “It wouldn’t feel the same. Whenever he touches me, I can feel this presence, but his dick—”

“Can we not have this conversation in public?” Sunwoo hisses. Their brunch place is as lively as usual, but nobody ever bothers them in the booth that they’ve claimed for themselves after becoming regulars.

Changmin gives Sunwoo a bored look, then turns back to Chanhee with an eye roll. “Why do we keep inviting him?”

“Because the mimosas come in threes.” Chanhee sighs. “Anyway, I don’t know how to get rid of him or what he wants.”

“Go to the priest or the shaman or whatever.” Sunwoo pokes at his eggs. “Get the Kevin demon out of your system.”

“You’re talking about an exorcist.” Changmin’s eyes don’t leave Chanhee even as he’s addressing Kevin. “I think you should fuck him. Maybe he’s just hanging around for that one last fuck, you know?” Changmin’s obsession with the occult is something Chanhee still doesn’t really understand, but it’s coming in handy in this situation when he wants to be taken seriously about a ghost. Sunwoo, on the other hand, looks grossed out.

Chanhee sighs. “You just want me to fuck a ghost.” It would’ve been much more convenient if the person being haunted by the ghost of a horny ex-boyfriend in this friend group was Changmin instead of Chanhee. He always seems to know what to do.

“I’m not saying that’s not the case.” Changmin raises an eyebrow. “But I do think that it would resolve whatever sexual tension is keeping him here and haunting you.” He leans back, knowing that he’s making a point.

Chanhee drinks the suggestion down with his third mimosa.

Chanhee comes home with a new box. This one isn’t for Younghoon— this was for himself. He loosens himself up in the shower by awkwardly fumbling with his fingers. Kevin used to do it for him and he hasn’t done it since… Well, since Kevin.

When he steps out of the shower, Kevin doesn’t appear.

“Kevinnie, are you there?” Chanhee says to no response.

He goes to his room. The toy is sitting on Chanhee’s bed where he left it; nothing too big, fleshy colored, and simple. Chanhee rearranges the mirror in his room and lugs it over to his bed. Still no Kevin.

“Kevinnie?” Chanhee whispers, lying on his side naked in front of the mirror. It’s weird to be staring so intently into the mirror when his naked body was the only thing in it.

Chanhee’s fingers skim over the skin on his chest, trailing down towards his half-hard cock. He’s putting on a show for no audience— if Kevin’s watching, he doesn’t make himself known.

But the show must go on. Chanhee lubes up the dildo, pretending the unmoving silicone in his hands is warm flesh. He turns on his back, using the extra lube on his hands to slowly stroke himself to full hardness, and closes his eyes.

How did the dream go? Kevin hovering over him in missionary, his hand on Chanhee’s neck. How did the memory go? Kevin’s smile, his soft whisper, his lips on Chanhee’s. Chanhee angles the toy until it’s pressed up against his entrance.

“What’s all this?” Kevin’s voice murmurs.

Chanhee turns towards the mirror and opens his eyes. Kevin is there, lying on his side next to Chanhee on his bed with a lazy smile. He’s fully dressed and unaffected by the sight. Chanhee tries to breathe, in and out.

“Are you thinking of me?” Kevin purrs, his fingers pawing at Chanhee’s upper thigh in a circle.

“Our first time,” Chanhee breathes. “My first time.”

Kevin’s playfulness turns soft again, his hand stopping on Chanhee’s thigh. “How sweet.” He sighs. “By all means, continue.”

“Can you fuck me?” Chanhee whispers. “Like you used to?” He’s laid open for him, his legs spread and his heart eager.

Kevin laughs a little, his other hand reaching to pet Chanhee’s hair. “I can’t, darling. You have to do it yourself.” There goes the ghost dick theory.

Kevin’s hand travels to the dildo in Chanhee’s hand, hovering over the back of his hand. Just relax, Kevin’s voice echoes in his head. Chanhee lets Kevin guide his hand, the toy pressing in and entering him with slick ease. Chanhee groans. The feeling is almost the same, but it’s different still, when Chanhee looks down and sees only his own hand.

“There you go,” Kevin murmurs in satisfaction.

“Kevinnie,” Chanhee breathes, looking in the mirror. Kevin is still there looking at him fondly, one hand petting Chanhee’s hair. “I want you.”

“Close your eyes,” Kevin whispers.

“But I want to see you.” I’m scared that you won’t be there when I open them, is the part that Chanhee doesn’t say. But Kevin has always been good at reading Chanhee.

“You trust me, right?” That old line reused, that inside joke retold.

Chanhee closes his eyes. “I guess.” He follows Kevin’s nudging touch at his hand, thrusting the dildo in and out of himself, in that slow, slow pace Kevin would start with to tease him.

“You’re doing great, darling,” Kevin says over his ear. With his eyes closed, with Kevin’s touch guiding his hand, with Kevin’s voice in his ear, Chanhee could really believe that Kevin is the one fucking him, that this is their first time all over again. “So good for me, Chanhee-ya.”

“Faster,” Chanhee breathes, even though he’s the one in control of the pace. He thrusts faster, deeper, and Kevin’s hands graze over his chest— his touch more focused and intense when Chanhee can’t see him. The memory resurfaces; Kevin kissing the skin on his chest, his warm touch sliding down to the waistband of his briefs, Chanhee feeling overwhelmed and hungry all at once.

Kevin’s hands travel lower, sending a shiver down Chanhee’s spine as he draws over Chanhee’s hip bones. Chanhee moans— he needs Kevin so desperately, his real hands on him, his real lips on his own, his real cock in him. He can feel his orgasm approaching, winding up inside his trembling body.

“Kevinnie, please.” A plea for Kevin’s ears only, a plea that’ll go unanswered.

Chanhee feels it; Kevin’s hands on his cock, so warm and present that it’s almost like his touch, and Chanhee could see the defined knuckles of Kevin’s hand around his cock in his mind’s eye. “Come, baby,” Kevin murmurs softly. “Come.”

Chanhee comes.

“Did it feel good?”

Kevin is sitting cross-legged on the bed at Chanhee’s feet, like a cat. This is the longest he’s been sticking around, even after Chanhee came and the crying Chanhee did right after, watching Chanhee in the bathroom mirror as he took another shower to wash himself out and now as Chanhee crawls into bed.

But he was silent the whole time, only watching Chanhee with quiet amusement.

“It did.” Chanhee curls up in his blanket, staring into the angled mirror next to his bed to look at Kevin. He turned off all the lights too, leaving the two of them in the moonlit darkness. Kevin is half shrouded in darkness, the moonlight only reflecting in his eyes in a way that made him look eerie, less human than he does in the day.

Kevin pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. “Why don’t you let yourself feel good?”

The answer is simple— Chanhee doesn’t have a reason to lie to Kevin. “Because it’s not you.”

He half-expects Kevin to laugh again, to go, You flatter me, darling, to brush it off as some joke. He wants Kevin to play it off as he would in the old days, joking around with Chanhee and then trying to get Chanhee to forgive him when he goes too far.

But Kevin sighs softly, crawling up the bed to hover over Chanhee’s face. Chanhee looks at the mirror; Kevin is looking down at him.

“It doesn’t have to be me.” He presses a kiss on Chanhee’s forehead. It tingles on his skin.

Their routine every Saturday is as follows: they meet at eight in the evening at the same hotel, usually in the same room. Some days, Younghoon brings toys; some days he doesn’t. Usually, Younghoon gets there earlier, like Chanhee would give him a gold star for showing up early. They shower, they fuck, they shower again, and Chanhee leaves.

Chanhee doesn’t know what Younghoon do after, if he stays and spends the night or if he leaves— he doesn’t ask.

Today, Chanhee walks out of his post-sex shower in his briefs and looks at Younghoon, who’s already clean and lying in the bed, staring at his phone.

“Hyung,” Chanhee says, sitting on the edge of the opposite side. Hyung sounds too awkward for what he’s about to ask. “Puppy.” Chanhee falls back on their agreed-upon pet name instead. Even though hyung is the more formal way to call Younghoon, it feels more personal than the pet name they’ve picked while setting up their relationship boundaries.

Younghoon looks up, puzzled. Usually, Chanhee would be getting ready to leave.

“I want to do something a bit different next week.” Chanhee’s palms are sweating. “I want to bottom for you if you are okay with it.”

“What?” Younghoon almost yelps. Instead of the excitement that Chanhee was expecting, Younghoon looks worried. “Don’t make yourself do it. It’s fine if you don’t— it doesn’t matter to me.” It’s touching, the concern in Younghoon’s voice.

“It’s okay, I want to.” Chanhee says, more confidently than before. “I’m a bit out of practice. But I really want to try it with you.” He trusts Younghoon with this, more than anyone else. If he had to start again, Younghoon would be where he’d try.

Younghoon seems to understand the weight of those words, from the way he’s sitting up with a serious expression. “I’ll do my best.”

Chanhee laughs. “It’s just sex, puppy.”

There’s a flash of something sad, or disappointed, on Younghoon’s face before it’s replaced by a general softness. “Do you want to sleep here?”

Chanhee pauses. Usually, he prefers the comfort of his own bed, but he hasn’t been sleeping well at home and Younghoon is looking at him hopefully. Chanhee knows he’s been distant lately, ever since Kevin started showing up, and that it wasn’t exactly fair to treat Younghoon this way.

Chanhee sighs, crawling into the sheets and tucking himself in. He always feels bad seeing Younghoon sad or upset— outside of sex.

Younghoon puts his phone away, turns off the room lights, and the room plunges into silence. “Goodnight, Chanhee-ya.” Even in the darkness, Chanhee can feel the way Younghoon is still looking at him, still hopeful for a chance that Chanhee would give him something.

“Goodnight,” Chanhee murmurs back, turning to the other side.

“What’s so bad about Younghoon?” Changmin frowns over his plate of pancakes. “He’s nice to you, right? He has a good job, and he likes you, and he gives good head. According to you.”

“God, you guys never talk about anything interesting.” Sunwoo downs another mimosa. Chanhee and Changmin ignore him.

“I’m just fucking him.” Chanhee says pointedly. Sunwoo chokes.

“And you’ve been fucking him exclusively for the past six months.” Changmin counters. “And giving him presents, and calling him pet names.”

“It’s just kink stuff.” Chanhee mutters. He knows it’s not a good excuse because Changmin’s eyes narrow at him.

“Been there, done that.” Changmin sighs. “The thing is he likes you. You have to either give him a proper chance or cut him off.” That’s how these things go.

“I don’t know how I feel about him, though.” Younghoon is sweet. The day they met was the first time since Kevin that Chanhee felt someone could mean something to him again. They have fun too— Chanhee never thought he’d enjoy kink as much as he would. But Younghoon had always been interested in him beyond the sex; an open invitation, if Chanhee were to ever accept it.

“Maybe you should give it a try.” Changmin says, then his voice lowers to something more tender. “We just want you to be happy.” Changmin has been his best friend for so long that Chanhee trusts him more than he does himself— if Changmin thinks it can work with Younghoon, maybe it really can.

Chanhee looks into his reflection in the mimosa glass. But can I be happy without you?

Saturday comes. Kevin hasn’t appeared. Even when Chanhee emerges from the hotel shower, Kevin doesn’t make himself known in the steam of the bathroom mirror.

There’s a full-length mirror in the corner of the hotel room. It’s been watching them since their first time together, but Chanhee never had any reason to pay it any attention until now.

“Puppy, would you move that mirror here by the bed?” Chanhee asks gently.

Younghoon nods and complies without a fuss. When he’s finished with it, he kneels on the bed, looking up at Chanhee in obedient silence. Chanhee had trained him well over the past six months.

Now there is the unspoken question in the air. What’s next? Chanhee swallows. He’s never had a problem with getting into character, but today looks like it’s going to be a day of firsts.

After doing this so many times, Younghoon seems to know how Chanhee’s feeling before he says it. “Do you still want to do this?” Younghoon breaks out of character, reaching out for Chanhee’s wrist. “We really don’t have to.”

“I do.”

Chanhee lets Younghoon wrap his fingers around his forearm. The touch is heavy and real; human.

“But can we do it without the other stuff? Just us?” This is the first time Chanhee has suggested stepping out of their usual dynamic— even when they don’t have any toys involved, they still have that dynamic between them, the roles they have to play.

“Of course.” Younghoon takes Chanhee’s hand in his, and pulls it up to kiss his knuckles; like Chanhee is a princess. Normally, Chanhee wouldn’t let Younghoon treat him this delicately, but this time, his cheeks blush a bit, charmed by Younghoon’s gesture. “Come sit.”

Younghoon shifts into a sitting position at the edge of the bed and looks expectantly at Chanhee. Chanhee knows he’s probably expecting Chanhee to sit next to him, so Chanhee sits in his lap instead. He’s never been one to follow expectations.

“Oh,” Younghoon mumbles, eyes fluttering wide.

“Shh,” Chanhee murmurs, before leaning in to kiss him. It starts sweet, but then Chanhee is tugging his bathrobe off and his fingers slither up and down Younghoon’s sides, his lips swallowing up all of Younghoon’s soft moans.

Chanhee pushes Younghoon back gently until Younghoon lies flat on the bed, Chanhee straddling him.

“I’ll ride you.” Chanhee announces, but it comes out a bit too firm for what they’re doing. He swallows, before adding, “If that’s okay.”

Younghoon nods, stifling a smile. They reposition themselves; Chanhee makes sure he can see himself in the mirror as Younghoon tugs off his briefs and grabs their lube.

Chanhee sets his hands on Younghoon’s shoulders, slowly trailing down. He knows every inch of Younghoon’s body after having spent so much time together. The pale stretch of Younghoon’s throat that Chanhee would clip a collar over, Younghoon’s bare chest where Chanhee would usually wrap over; sometimes with leather, sometimes with red rope.

Younghoon pours some lube over his half-hard cock and starts to stroke himself to full hardness. If they were still in their roles, Chanhee would’ve started thinking of the dozens of ways to punish him for touching himself without permission— but they’re not, and Chanhee only watches the way Younghoon’s expression relaxes as he takes hold of his own pleasure.

“It’s funny to do it like this.” Younghoon giggles a little, looking up at Chanhee. The look in his eyes hasn’t changed; he still looks at Chanhee reverently, obedient and ready. “I feel like you want to punish me.”

Chanhee smiles, shaking his head. “I won’t.” He reaches down, wrapping his fingers around Younghoon’s dick. This is another first for them, but it doesn’t feel as weird as Chanhee worried it would. To be able to give Younghoon what he wants, to treat him this gently and openly, is enjoyable too. “Even if I want to.” Younghoon makes a small noise of contentment as Chanhee moves his hand, thumb hovering over the tip.

“I’m ready.” Younghoon says softly, eyes shining as Chanhee watches pre-come dribble out of his cock.

Chanhee glances in the mirror. His reflection looks back at him. Then he looks down at Younghoon, with his patient eyes and his hair splaying out over the pillow. “Me too.”

He must have sounded unconvincing because Younghoon reaches to touch his wrist. “Just relax,” Younghoon smiles, “You trust me, right?” He’s echoing the script to a play he’s never seen but he has never sounded more genuine.

Chanhee stares at him for a beat longer than normal. Then he nods and sinks down on Younghoon’s cock. He’s never been with anyone as expressive as Younghoon; Younghoon whimpers at any flicker of pain, moans when Chanhee finally allows him the relief he needs and cries when he comes.

Younghoon is the one who whines when he bottoms out, gripping Chanhee’s wrist. “Chanhee-ya…” Younghoon is warm— they’re fucking bareback and Chanhee can feel it.

“Puppy.” Chanhee sighs. “Hyung, I’ll start moving.”

Younghoon nods eagerly. Chanhee breathes in and shifts up and down, slow to start. He’s out of practice, but once they get into the rhythm, Chanhee leans forward to shift his weight. His face is right in front of Younghoon; now he can see the need in Younghoon’s eyes, and hear the soft groans up close as Chanhee moves faster.

Chanhee looks up at the mirror. This time, Kevin is there— sitting on the edge of the bed, quiet and unmoving. His lips are curled in mild amusement. Chanhee looks back down at Younghoon, his eyes shut and mouth parted open.

“Chanhee, please,” Younghoon moans, cheeks flushed as he holds onto Chanhee’s waist. “You feel so good.”

“I know, right?” Kevin murmurs. When Chanhee glances back up, Kevin is kneeling on the bed next to them, as fully dressed as every time Chanhee sees him. His eyes are focused on Younghoon. “Better than you’ve been imagining.”

“Fuck.” Chanhee swears but he doesn’t know whether it’s directed at Younghoon, Kevin, himself, or all of them. Then he looks back down at Younghoon and directs this at him. “My thighs are burning.” His pace is starting to slow from the strain, in spite of the frustrating way his untouched cock has been painfully hard.

“I’ve got you.” Younghoon whispers, his grip tightening around Chanhee’s hips and his eyes determined. Chanhee surrenders himself with a soft gasp.

Younghoon holds Chanhee still as he starts thrusting into him, setting the pace for them both. Chanhee hears moans between Younghoon’s grunts and it takes him a moment to realize it’s coming from himself, little noises slipping through his mouth.

“I missed those sounds.” Kevin says wistfully, fingers ghosting down Chanhee’s spine. Chanhee shudders; pre-come spills out of his dick. He can’t even look up at the mirror anymore— he can only hear Kevin, feel his touch on his skin.

“I’m close.” Younghoon groans.

“Tell him to come in you.” Kevin breathes, a puff of hot air over Chanhee’s ear. It’s not a suggestion as much as Kevin voicing one of Chanhee’s thoughts out loud. His touch wraps around Chanhee’s cock, like last time, and Chanhee lets out a whine.

“Hyung,” Chanhee gasps when Younghoon’s hold squeezes harder. “Come in me.” Kevin’s hand starts to move, warm and encompassing, following Younghoon’s rhythm.

Younghoon groans, loud, and thrusts deeper; Kevin strokes Chanhee’s cock even faster— his lips leaving a lingering warmth over Chanhee’s ears and neck. Chanhee leans forward into Younghoon’s face and kisses him. The closeness, the soft grunts with every thrust, the unabashed pleasure on Younghoon’s face, the gripping hold he has on Chanhee’s waist, the admiring look in Younghoon’s eyes whenever he looks at Chanhee—

Younghoon’s name is the one that slides out of his mouth when Chanhee comes. Kevin strokes him through it.

Younghoon fills him up with a loud groan, finally stopping his thrusts. Kevin coos as Younghoon is panting through his orgasm.

“I see why you like him. He’s cute.” Chanhee looks up at the mirror and Kevin looks back at him, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to them.

“Chanhee-ya,” Younghoon says weakly, sweat collecting on his neck. “Thank you.”

Kevin bursts into laughter. Chanhee has to stifle a laugh himself. “You don’t have to thank me.” Chanhee slowly eases himself off of Younghoon, rolling over to flop flat down on the bed.

“I’ll clean you up.” Younghoon says quickly, nearly tripping on his way toward the bathroom.

Then there’s a moment of silence.

Kevin is still there; Chanhee can’t turn his head to look into the mirror but he can feel Kevin lying on the bed next to him.

“Did it feel good?” Kevin asks again.

“Yes.” Chanhee stares at the empty ceiling. He can feel Kevin’s fingers over his wrist, wrapping over his hand. Kevin is the one holding onto him, but if Kevin were to let go now, Chanhee would be the one to drift away.

“I want you to feel good.” Kevin says softly. His grip tightens over Chanhee’s hand. “You still have a life to live without me.”

“But I still love you.” Chanhee breathes, turning his head to look at where Kevin would be. This time, he can see Kevin without the help of a mirror, the two of them lying flat on the hotel bed. “I still love you so much.”

This Kevin is the most similar to the one in his memories; his hair falling into his face, the way the light falls over his skin, their hands in each other’s, the way they’re nose-to-nose on a bed.

The mourning, the grief; it all swells up in Chanhee’s chest, the hollowing ache, the yearning. “I can’t stop loving you.” Despite physicality, despite death.

Kevin grins. “I know, darling.” His eyes turn tender to match his words. “But you can still love after me. That doesn’t make you love me any less.” Chanhee has been afraid that he’d stop loving Kevin one day, that over time, he’ll slowly stop loving Kevin— but when Kevin came back to see him, Chanhee knew that he won’t ever stop. Their love hasn’t died; it keeps them together, as long as Chanhee’s heart still beats.

“Okay.” Chanhee whispers. “Okay.” He says it a second time for the words to sink in.

“Take care of yourself.” Kevin’s voice is still playful, even if his words are not. He closes his eyes and leans in to kiss Chanhee, his hand letting go of Chanhee’s.

Chanhee closes his eyes and lets himself savor the feeling of Kevin’s lips on his own before Kevin pulls away. He knows before he opens his eyes, from the way Kevin’s kiss lingers on his lips.

Younghoon doesn’t say anything when he comes back to find Chanhee crying into the pillows. He only scoops Chanhee up gently, carrying him to the bathroom and setting him into a running bath. Then he kneels there by the bathtub, cheek pressed to the rim of the tub as he watches Chanhee rub himself down with soap.

“I didn’t cry because of what we did.” Chanhee says.

Younghoon avoids his eyes, fingers dipping into the soapy water. “I know.” The water ripples.

“You know?”

“I heard you talking earlier.” Younghoon murmurs. The tap drips, slowly. “I know that you still love someone else.” A drip, a long pause, another drip. The sound is hollow against the clean bathroom tiles.

Chanhee sinks into the water, submerging himself up to his nose. When he comes back up, Younghoon is looking at him. Water drips from the tip of his nose, his chin, his earlobes.

“The truth is I’ve been selfish, Chanhee.” Younghoon’s eyes fill with hurt. “I’ve been hoping this whole time that this could be something more than what it is and that’s selfish. I think we should end it here.”

Chanhee blinks. “What?”

“We came into this with boundaries and I broke them,” Younghoon says solemnly. “I have feelings for you.” He says it like a curse. Like it’s the worst thing to happen to him. There are worse things to happen than to love someone, especially when they can love you back.

Chanhee studies Younghoon’s expression, the way his face is fallen, the way hope is fading from his eyes. “But there were only two rules.”

Younghoon tilts his head curiously.

“I had only two rules, no going on dates and no bottoming.” Chanhee takes a deep breath. “We’ve already broken one of the rules.”

For a second, there’s excitement in Younghoon’s eyes, quickly replaced by cautious apprehension. “What are you saying?” Chanhee doesn’t overthink it— he just does.

“I’m saying,” Chanhee smiles, lifting his hand out of the water to hold Younghoon’s hand, “that I want to take you on a date. If you’re okay with it.”

“I’m more than okay with it.” Younghoon squeezes Chanhee’s hand with a grin. “I’d love to.” Then he brings Chanhee’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles again, lining kisses over the back of Chanhee’s hand and wrist in excitement.

“Ah, stop it.” Chanhee huffs, but not in any real annoyance.

Younghoon inches closer to Chanhee, leaning over the bathtub. “I saw that you liked it, earlier.” He sounds almost smug.

“What are you saying?” Chanhee feels his cheeks start to warm with embarrassment as Younghoon laughs. “Nonsense.” Younghoon presses another kiss to Chanhee’s knuckles for good measure.

In the corner of his eye, in the clear bathroom mirror, he can almost see a figure standing by the doorway to the bathroom. A figure that looks like Kevin, smiling softly, before walking out of the mirror frame.