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Hwitaek watched them through the crack in the door and he felt something leap from his stomach and tear through his heart, crawl up his throat and nearly drip out of his mouth. In his head, he knew exactly what it was, and he felt scared of it. It felt like the spores from Alien, Hwitaek was afraid a creature was going to burst from his chest and devour them all. It might as well. He feels as if he’s at a dead end, and he wouldn’t mind if he was eaten away.They weren’t undressing for him. He can still see them, they haven’t really moved from the couch, but neither of them were wearing a shirt and they were sharing a blunt and shotgunning it. It was dirty, and he could hear the noises they made when they touched each other, rolled their hips together and pulled hair. But it wasn’t meant for him, and Hwitaek was intruding. He wishes that it was though, he thinks about it at night when he sleeps next to them (it’s always next to them; never in between) and they’re naked and a little sweaty still, and he’s in the clothes he’s been wearing all day.He’s not really sure who he’s more jealous of (he’ll swear up and down that he isn’t, but he is and that’s the undeniable truth), he’s not really sure if he wishes it were his lips ghosting over Hyunah’s chest or if he wishes that it were his hickeys dotting Hyojong’s skin. He’s not really sure if he wishes that he could be between them or if he wishes he could watch from the sidelines without feeling like there’s a knife buried in his chest. Hyunah’s bra comes off and Hwitaek looks away as if he’s never seen what was under before. As if he hasn’t slept right next to her, when the room still smelled a little like sex and weed (and maybe a trace of coke, but he wasn’t one to judge). Hyojong turns, stares him right in the eyes, and Hwitaek was caught, but he doesn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t feel guilty when Hyojong smiles, and leans over to suck on Hyunah’s chest, staring into Hwitaek’s soul. He sleeps in the car that night, shaken. (He pretends not to notice the space in between the two on the bed when he walks inside their hotel room the next morning, shaped too much like him.)***On days like these, Hwitaek wishes he never met them. On days like these, Hyunah is wearing a sundress and a hat that makes her glow, and Hyojong has a blush on him that never seems to leave his face. On days like these, Hwitaek is speeding across the highway just to do it, just to get to a town where their faces aren’t known and the bars are open until 6 am. Days like these are good ones, where Hyojong leans across the centre console and Hyunah laughs brightly at something he said. Hwitaek hates these days, but he loves them the most. They’re his favourite days and he despises them.Hyojong and Hyunah get out together at their next stop and he feels it again, the pain in his chest that grows the longer he sees them alone together, the longer he sees them touch and flirt and kiss without him. It’s painful. He stays in the car because he knows that standing there while they somewhat ignore him is much worse. He watches their hand clasp as they walk into the convenience store and he closes his eyes, willing his heart to hurt a little less.When they come back, he’s still there, and Hyunah hands him their change with a kiss on the cheek and a thanks, and Hwitaek’s heart jumps a little in hope before he smiles at her, and squashes it. Hyojong kisses his cheek too, when he gets in the car, and giggles afterwards, and Hwitaek tells himself, chants in his head, that it doesn’t mean what he wants it to mean. They drive again, and everything is normal. Hyunah and Hyojong sing out the open windows to a song that Hwitaek has never heard before and it’s perfect and peaceful and the sun is setting and Hwitaek keeps on driving. And when the stars sparkle over their heads and Hyojong and Hyunah nap, spread out across the backseat, Hwitaek keeps driving.***The door is wide open this time. It was a different hotel and a different city, different alcohol and a different strain of weed, but it was the same. It was Hyunah and Hyojong, it was the TV running black and white classics, it was the smoke in the air and alcohol on the skin (it was Jäger this time, and Hwitaek knows they aimed to get smashed tonight), it was Hwitaek at the door and he know, later, it’ll be him in the car again and Hyunah and Hyojong wrapped around each other in bed.He watched, unashamed, as Hyunah, leaned down and licked at Hyojong, watched as his head tilted back, watched as Hyunah called him a good boy and took him in her mouth. He watched and Hyojong tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled, watched as she whimpered around him. It was dirty and sexy, their joint was burning in the ashtray and a glass of whiskey was forgotten on the coffee table, but neither of them seemed to mind. They were lost in each other and Hwitaek yearned for that. But he knew his limits and he knew theirs, and he knew that he couldn’t always get what he wanted.Hyunah is inherently beautiful. She’s gorgeous when her red hair sticks to her face and her lips are swollen and there’s spit smeared on the corner of her mouth. She gazes up at Hyojong and Hwitaek understands. He’d look at him like that too. He observes Hyojong, he can’t see his face well, but he knows that he’s looking at her with that same expression and Hwitaek understands that too. Hyojong is inherently beautiful. He’s gorgeous when his cheeks get dark and his freckles stand out, when he looks shy and when he looks like he wants to destroy you.Hyojong and Hyunah are inherently beautiful. They’re gorgeous when they see him loitering outside their door, when they beckon him inside and touch him all over. They’re gorgeous when they kiss him, when they cry in his mouth below him and above him and next to him. They’re gorgeous every day, but especially tonight, when they lie in bed and the streetlights shine through their curtains and across their faces and over the marks they’ve left on each other like moonlight. They’re gorgeous when Hwitaek lays between them, and their hands connect across his waist.(He pretends like he doesn’t feel right here, pretends like the space in between them is meant for him, pretends they don’t murmur ‘I love you, Hwitaek’ in his ear as they fall asleep, and he pretends that he isn’t happy that he’s naked in between rather than clothed to their side. He pretends like he isn’t in love)