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When Soonyoung laughs, stars leak out of his mouth.
It happens when Seokmin is kissing the skin up his legs, caressing his calves, letting his fingertips sink into the tender flesh of his thighs. Soonyoung tilts his head back and exposes the hollow of his throat and the stars leak out of his mouth like the cosmos are dancing into their bedroom.
Soonyoung exposes his throat like he is a lone deer in the comfort of the forest, trusting that Seokmin is not the wolf.
He sees this, the way the tendons dance under his tan skin. He feels his teeth heavy in his mouth, until he kisses the thin skin of his neck.
The wolf will not feast tonight.
***
Seokmin thinks he could paint the night sky across Soonyoung’s bare back.
He sits there at the edge of his bed, head between his knees. The notches in his spine look like the treeline surrounding the cabin they escaped to once on a foggy October morning. If he can lean in close enough to Soonyoung’s skin, he thinks he could smell petrichor and birch. Scoop up the fog in his hands like a ghost, let it dance between his fingers. Seokmin traces Soonyoung’s back with his fingers, thinking he could hold the memory of that trip in his hands.
“Do you ever think of that trip to Gangwon-do?” Seokmin whispers. He feels Soonyoung shift to life beneath him, his soul awakening at the thought.
“Yeah,” Soonyoung replies quietly, moving beneath Seokmin’s hands. Seokmin leans his chest against Soonyoung’s back, like he’s trying to melt into his skin. Trying to savor every inch of him, leaking his way into Soonyoung’s soul.
“Let’s go back one day,” Seokmin says. He thinks he smells petrichor.
***
When Soonyoung dances, there is an entire galaxy beneath his ribs.
His feet echo off the hardwood floors as he moves, like his body in motion has a sound. It’s enticing to Seokmin who sits in the corner, watching him. The fabric of his dark shirt stretches across his ribs, his shoulders, the soft skin of his stomach.
His ribs— they cannot contain the stars and planets and dust of the galaxy beneath them. They are begging to be let free.
Seokmin licks his lips, and he watches.
Soonyoung’s breath comes out in pants as he moves, twists and turns in front of the wall made of mirrors. In front of Seokmin, a private performance. His final pose is his hands over his head, fingers arching and bending to the sky above them. His breath is ragged, his lungs gasping for air.
“Again,” Seokmin urges. He feels centimeters away from Soonyoung despite being across the room. Soonyoung looks at him with a mix of excitement and a darkness behind his eyes. In an instant, Seokmin is across the room, gripping at Soonyoung’s waist. He holds him like fire, his fingers constantly moving. He feels the bone, the muscles flexing, the fabric of his clothing. Seokmin pulls the shirt out from where it lay tucked into his jeans. He rips the fabric over Soonyoung’s head, and his hands immediately ghost across Soonyoung’s ribs.
“Again,” Seokmin whispers, feeling the way bone moves beneath flesh. He lets Soonyoung take a breath, and Seokmin can feel the heat of a thousand stars beneath his palms. He twists out of Seokmin’s grip, beginning the dance once again.
Seokmin watches like a wolf watches prey. He watches the Milky Way leak out of Soonyoung’s ribs like he’s been gutted open, twisting and dancing as the stars cover him. The planets are following his orbit, being drawn to all that is Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.
He doesn’t finish his dance this time. Instead his back his cold glass like it’s water.
Seokmin’s mouth is slotted against Soonyoung’s, kissing him like he could steal the cosmos out of his body. He is a starseeker looking at the sky, he is a wolf with a lone deer, he is someone trying to smell the petrichor and birch.
He is in love with a man, a forest, a universe.
“Again,” Soonyoung whispers when they part, their breath hot between them. They’re both panting and kissing but all Soonyoung can say is “again.”
And so Seokmin obliges, kissing everywhere his lips can reach. Fitting his fingers between the spaces of Soonyoung’s ribs. Feeling the cold glass like water.
(Again, again, again.)
***
Seokmin thinks he could spend his entire life waking up with his head against Soonyoung’s chest.
His eyes are cloudy as he blinks away sleep, Hands finding skin in the quiet moments of the morning. He grips Soonyoung’s thigh beneath the covers and kisses his neck before slipping out of bed. He pads to the window, pushing the curtains open. The foggy sky greets him, cloud matter gripping the trees of this part of the forest in Gangwon-do.
Seokmin thinks of the notches in Soonyoung’s spine, and he breathes.
A gentle noise brings him back to the mattress, a combination of Seokmin’s name and a sigh. His lips find Soonyoung’s, slotting together perfectly. They trace down his face, his jaw, down to the hollow of the neck.
When Soonyoung laughs, stars leak out of his mouth.