𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 || 𝑺𝑬𝑶𝑲𝑺𝑶𝑶

ten

Joshua felt like he’d been thrown into some kind of fever dream. The bass-heavy music thumped against his chest, but he could hardly hear it over the sound of his own pulse, beating in time with the sight that had snatched the air from his lungs: Seokmin, standing just a few feet away, the first time he’d seen him up close in a week that felt like a lifetime.

God, why do you look like that? The thought hit him like a punch. He'd seen Seokmin’s body, touched it, claimed it in every way. So why was he staring like this? Why did he feel so... shaken, like he was seeing Seokmin for the first time?

Seokmin’s jeans clung to his legs perfectly, his shirt molded to his chest, showing just enough of his collarbone to make Joshua's heart skip. He looked almost… ethereal, cheeks flushed as he sipped from a plastic cup, oblivious to the way Joshua was struggling to breathe.

Joshua wanted nothing more than to cross the room, pull Seokmin into his arms, and tell him everything that had been burning in his mind since that night—a week ago—when he’d let him go. He’d told himself he didn’t need Seokmin, convinced himself he was fine without him. But now, seeing him here, so close yet so out of reach, every lie he’d told himself felt like it was shattering inside his chest.

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, Joshua finally made a move forward, but then he froze, his gaze locked on Seokmin’s waist. Seungcheol.

There he was, hand resting on Seokmin’s hip, fingers splayed out casually over his skin. And Seokmin… Seokmin was smiling, laughing softly at something Seungcheol had said.

A bitter jealousy twisted in Joshua’s stomach, clawing its way up his chest. How dare he touch him like that? That wasn’t Seungcheol’s place—it was his. And then, as if his worst fears were being dragged to the surface, he saw Seungcheol lean in, his mouth close to Seokmin’s ear, and Seokmin’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.

No. Joshua’s hands clenched around his glass, his fingers digging into the hard surface. He didn’t realize he was squeezing until he heard a sharp crack, and everyone’s heads turned to look at him. His glass had shattered in his hand, shards digging into his skin, blood dripping down his fingers.

He didn’t care. All he could see was Seokmin’s startled gaze, the way he immediately looked away, his expression twisting with guilt.

Ignoring Jeonghan’s voice calling after him, Joshua marched across the room, shoving past anyone in his path. Without a word, he grabbed Seokmin’s wrist and pulled, dragging him away from Seungcheol.

“Joshua—what are you doing?” Seokmin’s voice was sharp, laced with anger and confusion, but there was a vulnerability there that Joshua could feel, like an electric charge between them.

Joshua didn’t respond, his grip firm as he pulled Seokmin through the crowd, pushing open the back door and leading him into the cool night air. They stopped behind the house, where the muffled bass of the music was still audible but distant, like a heartbeat fading in the background.

He finally let go, and Seokmin stumbled back, clutching his wrist where Joshua had held him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Seokmin demanded, breathless and furious. “You can’t just drag me out like that—”

“Why were you letting him touch you?” Joshua cut him off, his voice low and rough, eyes blazing with an intensity that made Seokmin falter.

“What are you talking about?” Seokmin’s eyes narrowed, confusion giving way to anger. “You don’t get to ask me that, Joshua. You don’t get to act like you care.”

“You don’t act like I don’t care,” Joshua shot back, taking a step forward, his voice trembling. “I care, Seokmin. I care a lot more than you think.”