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you can't kiss and make it better

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Waii wants to move out. He's going to soon-- stay in the dorms, his scholarship will cover it. If not, his dad better not fucking complain about paying extra since this is all his fault anyways. But currently he's in his childhood bedroom, moody and upset, hungry and not even feeling comfortable enough in his own home to go and make lunch because he might be here.

He's tapping out complaining LINE messages to Kluay. Kluay likes Kan, of course he does. But he's also a little bit of a kiss ass and tends to be a little more sympathetic to Waii than like Put or Sung or Pan. He sighs a little as Kluay stops responding. But he hears the door close and the car engine turn over.

Thankful for the alone time, Waii throws his phone on the pillow and heads down the stairs to make lunch.

He sees that Maii's shoes are gone too, so it's just him. He puts some water on to start boiling and strips his overshirt off, leaning on the counter while he waits. A rustle gets his attention and after a moment, Kan is in front of him. Waii can't help the sneer that curls his lips.

"What're you doing here?" Waii asks. Kan, to his credit, stops his movement to look at Waii.

"I've been here, I thought you knew, which is why you were hiding upstairs."

"I wasn't hiding, my room is up there. You know one of us has a room here." Waii tries to keep his tone even, but it's infuriating the way Kan smiles at him-- a little soft, a little sad, a little smug. Somehow all three in one. Waii isn't fooled.

"And I remember when we were friends you used to never be there."

"I don't remember being your friend."

Kan's smile disappears and he looks almost stung. Good, Waii thinks, somewhere over the thundering of blood rushing in his ears.

"Get out of my house." Waii says after a moment. Kan seems to have gathered back some of his resolve, his face is blank, no smile-- no expression really. Until he raises his brow and tips his head to the side.

"Make me." Kan says.

Waii leaves the boiling water where it is and goes to try and shove Kan out of the house. He grabs him by the biceps and digs his fingertips in and pushes. Kan sets his weight like he's a wrestler and resists. Wide base makes it harder to push, and even though realistically Waii should be stronger it's hard to get much leverage.

In the heat, it doesn't take long for the exertion to make him start sweating, singlet clinging to his skin in the places it touches, arms shiny with a sheen of sweat. Kan doesn't look much better, there's a flush high on his cheeks, and his dark hair is clinging to his forehead. Waii glares at him.

"Don't fight me," Waii says, "it's annoying. You don't belong here." Waii tries another tact and grabs Kan by the front of the shirt intending to drag him out by that. He drags at Kan, who suddenly stops resisting and Waii pulls too hard, stumbles back and loses his balance but not his grip.

He falls hard on his back and Kan falls on him, knocking the wind out of him, and he can't breathe and Kan's face is right in his face and --

Waii doesn't know who moves first. He wants to say Kan to assuage his own ego and keep his own high ground in place, but he doesn't know who moves first. But Kan's mouth is on his or his is on Kan and they're sharing breath. His hands are down at his sides, and he blinks and they're in Kan's hair.

It's bad, it's bad-- it's so so bad, as Kan shifts on top of him.

Kan pulls back first. They share the same breath, Waii panting, still trying to catch his breath.

"You shouldn't have done that," Kan hisses at him. But the way they're at-- Waii can feel.

"You liked it." Waii knows he did too. He shouldn't have-- but --

"Don't be crude." Kan tries to move off and Waii grabs him, one hand at his waist, the other at the back of his neck.

"You started it."

"I did n--"

Waii cuts him off, kissing him again. This time he knows he's moved first. He runs his tongue along Kan's lower lip, and then in his mouth. Kan's tongue rubbing against his sense pinpricks of heat all through his body, centering on his spine and pooling through him. They kiss for a while-- a little messy-- at one point Kan licks the side of his mouth, almost his cheek, and it's wet, and noisy.

Kan's lips are swollen, pupils blown, cheeks red-- when he pulls back again. And Waii-- well. Waii doesn't know what he looks like but he knows what he feels like, and with their positioning, Kan is seated right on his hips, right on his dick really, the barrier of cloth not doing much to disguise how achingly, distressingly hard he is.

A part of him attempts to rationalize his way out of the desire he's feeling -- this is Kan, his ex-best friend and number one worst enemy. This is Kan, his father's boyfriend. This is Kan, someone who he despises because he ruined his family. And now here they are.

But those thoughts don't stop the blood pumping in his veins, licking like fire over suddenly tender nerve endings. They don't disperse the heavy weight of Kan's body atop of his body. They don't put the space between them. Kan's lips are almost on his lips, almost kissing him again.

Waii's grip tightens and he rolls his hips up anyways, rubbing against Kan's backside. He shifts back enough, tacit permission to continue, he supposes. Waii closes his eyes for a moment, focuses on breathing-- really breathing, and then kisses Kan again.

Messy, sloppy, hips moving, and his hands staying where they're at, one on his hips and one on the back of his neck. Kan's bracing on the floor by Waii's head, but then he shifts his weight, back more, then down to his elbows, to tangle his fingers in Waii's hair.

Chest to chest now, Waii wonders if Kan can feel how his heart is fluttering. Probably not, but even if he could, it's not like it would betray anything the rest of his body wasn't already.

It's all fast from there, Waii with his hips bucking up, Kan rubbing against his stomach. At some point, Waii's shirt has ridden up and he feels the scrape of denim and the metal of the zipper and it's so hot -- he thinks about what it might feel like.

It feels like his first time fumbling around with a girl back when he was in high school, hot and humid, unsure of what to do, but it also feels so good even not going further. Kan's rhythm starts stuttering and he's saying Waii's name like it's a prayer and Waii can't say anything at all since he hasn't been able to breathe since this started.

A few more rough thrust of his hips and he can feel Kan come -- the way his body tenses, the way he rubs against Waii's stomach with abandon, mouth slack and open instead of kissing him, eyes squeezed shut tight.

That brings Waii back to his senses a little, he's still worked up but he shoves Kan off from on top of him and rolls to his knees, looking down at him. Kan looks up at him with wide surprised eyes and opens his mouth to say something when the smoke alarm starts going off.

Waii is on his feet instantly and the pan on the stove has no water left in it and he feels -- he turns the flame off and glances down at Kan who is still laying on the floor. Kan sits up.

"Waii--"

"I gotta go." Waii doesn't want to -- can't -- talk about this so he takes the stairs two at a time to grab his phone and a shirt and immediately heads out the back door, not risking going on the kitchen.

His head is swimming with the sheer stupidity of his actions.

Waii starts looking for campus housing. Kan switches universities. And Waii buries everything so deep, all the complex things that he can't feel, and focuses instead of the anger that he feels for Kan ruining his family, his relationship with his dad, their friendship.

And if alone, at night, Waii lays in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about that, it's not ones business.