A lazy indoor fic about self-care, self-doubt, love, friendship, projection, processing, eavesdropping and honesty.
a.k.a. Park Sunghoon wakes up on his day off.
An Enhypen Fanfiction.
P.s. this story has been published by me on ao3 as well.
All Gra...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"NI-KI!?" Sunoo mimics Edward Munch's Scream. "NO! This is a fever dream! This isn't happening! This can't be happening!!" he recoils, clutching at Jake's side.
"I think we inhaled too much nail varnish guys" Jake says as his soul leaves his body.
"No, you did that yourself you idiot! I wasn't huffing shit! Please don't tell me, please god, please please for the love of god— I can't look! I'm going to die—" Sunghoon grabs at Jake's collar, too afraid to turn around to see who other than Niki spoke.
Jake has blue screened, eyes glazed over, all color drained from his face.
"Sunoo-hyung, look at me." It's the voice of Niki. Undeniably, Nishimura Riki calling out to his beloved hyung.
"No! No! No!" Sunoo flails his arms as Niki tries to hold him, eyes singed shut in denial and embarrassment.
Jake and Sunghoon hold each other, frozen in terror.
"Sunoo-hyung! Please!" Niki gets on his knees and with some force takes Sunoo by the wrists to hold him still.
"Ni... Ki? I— I don't know what you heard but I was just being dramatic! Hahaha! Right hyungs?" Sunoo's frail heart threatens to beat out of his chest, eyeballs popping out of their sockets, searching for some semblance of reassuring eye contact in Sunghoon and Jake who from all appearances have turned into stone.
"Hyung! Look at me." Niki's eyes are soft and searching, pleading for Sunoo's undivided attention.
He finally relents, nervously meeting his gaze, a flood of searing hot tears pouring from Sunoo's bright brown eyes. "Niki, I—"
To everyone's surprise, he pulls Sunoo in with his wrists into a passionate not-at-all-platonic kiss. Niki releases his grip only to wrap his arms around Sunoo, one hand on the small of his back, the other snakes its way onto the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair.
"Wow." Jake breaks from his daze.
Sunghoon lifts his jaw off the ground. "Jesus fucking christ, that's bold."
"I know right?" a fifth voice hums, "The balls on that boy. I can hardly believe that's our maknae."
Horror returns to Sunghoon's face. He looks at Jake, who only confirms his suspicions.
"Jake. Hoonie. Come here." a familiar voice calls out from the kitchen, "Give those two some space."
Jake stands up first, once again offering his hand to Sunghoon to get up. He swallows hard, takes his best friend's hand and complies. The walk to the kitchen is somber like funeral march. Sunghoon's hold on Jake's hand is so tight it threatens to cut off circulation. Jake gives a quick squeeze, feeling the other's cold, sweaty palms and his racing pulse in his fingertips.
