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“Seungho?”
“Hm?”
“Can you teach me how to kiss?”
Seungho chokes on his own spit, palm sweating around the pencil in his hand.
“Teach you how to what?” Seungho repeats the question, certain his mind is betraying him because there’s no way Nakyum is asking him to—
“Teach me how to kiss.”
The pencil in Seungho’s hand snaps.
Heat engulfs his face, heart malfunctioning as it knocks violently within his chest. He sets the fractured pencil down to face Nakyum where he lounges on his bed.
Despite the confidence with which Nakyum voiced his request, his hands fiddle with a loose string on his sweater, eyes downcast.
Seungho’s mouth opens. Then closes.
A thousand thoughts wreak havoc on his mind, but amidst the internal chaos, he successfully manages a simple, breathless, “Why?”
Nakyum worries on his lower lip, and Seungho’s fists clench in his lap until nails pierce the skin.
“Well, I… I’m going to be 19 soon and I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“So?” Seungho feigns nonchalance, hoping his tone masks his fragile composure. “Plenty of people your age haven’t had their first kiss yet. It’s not a race.”
“How old were you when you had your first kiss?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“It is not!” Nakyum finally looks up from his hands, brows furrowed. “I bet when you were 18, you’d done far more than kiss—”
“Had not.”
“Had too,” Nakyum says with a cross of his arms. “Lie all you want, but I know you better than that.”
“Okay, even if you’re right, you shouldn’t compare us,” Seungho says. “We’re incredibly different people. You shouldn’t rush things because of some fake milestone you’ve created in your head.”
“But what if—” The words die in Nakyum’s throat as his cheeks bloom scarlet.
“What if?” Seungho leans forward in his chair.
Eyes averted, Nakyum mumbles, “What if there’s someone I want to kiss, but I don’t know how?”
Jealousy gnaws at Seungho’s heart, dark and ugly. “Is there someone you want to kiss?”
Nakyum’s flush deepens. “I—I don’t know…”
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know?’” Annoyance taints Seungho’s words, souring his tone. “How can you not know if you like—”
“Seungho, will you just teach me?” Nakyum cuts him off, hands bunching in his lap, and Seungho stops talking.
He swallows, mouth dry, before he nods.
Even if Nakyum has someone he wants to kiss, it’s Seungho he asked, Seungho that will be the first to taste those lips, and the fire that thought elicits burns away the frigid jealousy in his heart.
For years, he’s dreamt of kissing Nakyum, his crush concealed by sheer willpower, and the only thing that stood between him and confessing was the gut-wrenching certainty that Nakyum didn’t feel the same way about him.
While Seungho isn’t one to fear rejection, Nakyum is his only exception. All it’d take is one pitied look for Seungho to go bury himself in a hole, never to show his face again. His self-preservation prohibits him from crossing that line.
And so, Seungho would be an absolute fool to pass up this rare opportunity.
With a steadying breath to calm his heart (it doesn’t work), Seungho pushes himself up from the chair. Taunts and teases drift to the tip of his tongue, but nerves clamp his jaw tight. Words often fail him in these situations, and it’s best not to ruin this before it even starts.
Nakyum avoids eye contact as he shifts, feet tucking beneath him as he makes room for Seungho on the mattress. It dips beneath Seungho’s weight, and the air buzzes between them like electricity, intensified by the proximity.
“I’m quite an excellent teacher, you know,” Seungho teases to break the tension, crossing his legs on the bed. “If you’d like me to repeat today’s lesson, please feel free to ask. I’d be glad to give multiple demonstrations—aiyah!”
Nakyum lightly punches his arm, but his cheeks maintain that wonderful pink. “Quit making fun of me.”
Seungho chuckles. “Alright, alright. I’ll take this serious.” Taking a deep breath, he wills his hands and voice to remain steady.
“Before we start, the first step is to adjust your posture,” Seungho says, disguising his enthusiasm with a serious expression. “Put your arms around my neck.”
Nakyum’s brows furrow, shyness seeping into his gaze. “Is that—is that really necessary?”
Seungho nods. “Of course it is. Here.” Large hands envelope Nakyum’s wrist to link them around his neck, and Seungho shivers when Nakyum's fingers tickle the fine hair there.
“Like this?”
Pleased with the dwindling distance between them, Seungho hums, low and throaty. “Just like that.”
His hands drift to circle Nakyum’s waist, and his mind fogs at the tiny circumference, hands spanning more than half the width. Thumbs stroke absently at the space below his ribs, and Nakyum flushes, but he doesn’t make a comment, fidgeting in his hold.
“Now, the first lesson,” Seungho says quietly, “is to close your eyes.”
“I knew that,” Nakyum grumbles, but his eyes slide closed until long lashes flutter against cheekbones. Rose petal lips part in anticipation, and Seungho’s grip tightens on Nakyum’s waist.
“Good,” Seungho says with a swallow. “Makes my job easier then.”
Nakyum’s flush spreads to his ears. “W-what next?”
Seungho’s heart thumps harder. “The second lesson is to keep your lips soft.” Tentatively, he raises a thumb to brush against Nakyum’s lower lip, gaze darkening as he fights the urge to dip it inside. “Don’t pucker them too much.”
Nakyum gives a timid nod to show he’s listening.
“Alright.” Seungho licks his lips, erratic pulse thrumming across his skin. His voice drops to a whisper as he leans in. “I’ll take it slow in the beginning until you get used to it.”
Nakyum’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and Seungho’s eyes follow the movement. “And… once I get used to it?”
“That’s up to you,” Seungho whispers, warm breath curling against Nakyum's skin. “Ready?”
With a small nod, Nakyum whispers back, “I’m ready.”
Raising a hand to cup Nakyum’s jaw, he strokes the cheekbone beneath the pad of his thumb, taking the extra moment to steady his heart. Take it slow, he reminds himself. He wants nothing more than to pour his yearning into the kiss, to pour his feelings into Nakyum until he’s filled to the brim, but now isn’t the time.
Take it slow.
With a tilt of his chin, he presses a tender kiss to Nakyum’s lips.
At first, Nakyum doesn’t react, mouth frozen against Seungho’s, before slowly, carefully, he kisses back, sending Seungho’s heart into chaos.
It’s warm and it’s soft, and Seungho’s grip tightens to prevent himself from deepening it. One kiss becomes two, and two becomes three, and Seungho’s losing his internal battle, sucking gently on Nakyum’s bottom lip, and burning up when it earns him a weak moan.
Take it slow.
But hell, is it hard when Nakyum’s pulling him closer and gasping against his mouth with needy pants. Unable to resist, Seungho sinks his teeth, nibbling on the plump flesh of Nakyum’s lip, and soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.
“Will you let me in?” Seungho rasps.
Nakyum nods, flushed and breathless, hands threading through Seungho’s hair, and a low groan rumbles from the back of Seungho’s throat in response.
His tongue glides past the seam of Nakyum’s lips, and he shivers when Nakyum greets him halfway, clumsy and shy. It’s far from the most graceful kiss he’s ever had, but fuck, is it the most thrilling.
Nakyum trembles in his grasp, but he holds Seungho close, meeting each kiss and stroke of Seungho’s tongue with one of his own. Despite his inexperience, Nakyum picks up on the movements, turning his head when Seungho does and maintaining the appropriate amount of tongue. He even pulls away to give an experimental suck to Seungho’s lower lip, and Seungho can hardly contain the groan it coaxes out, desire burning in his core.
Pride and greed flood Seungho’s chest, and he wants to push Nakyum further, to teach him how filthy they can really get, but he swallows down the urge, resigning to guide Nakyum with a gentle hand.
After several dizzying moments, Seungho tears himself away, forehead resting against Nakyum’s as they catch their breath.
“You want to stop?” Seungho asks, voice raw. “Or keep—”
“Keep going,” Nakyum gasps immediately.
And Seungho’s self-control snaps.
With a low growl, he tugs Nakyum forward until he’s straddling his lap, and before Nakyum can protest, two hands are grabbing Nakyum’s face and pulling him down into a hard kiss.
Gone are the slow and gentle presses, and Seungho kisses Nakyum with an intensity that rivals the sun. Expecting Nakyum to freeze in his lap, he’s endlessly pleased when Nakyum kisses him back, fingers knotting in Seungho’s hair. Seungho sucks and bites and licks, swallowing Nakyum’s moans as he pants against his lips.
Seungho’s heart races, but his blood runs hot, hyperaware of every curve flush against his chest as his hands trail from Nakyum’s face down his back. He hugs Nakyum close, mouths never parting, and he wants to remove any space between them, shed the layers of clothing and melt into one. It can’t happen, won’t happen, but he allows his fingers to dip beneath the hem of Nakyum’s sweater to stroke the warm skin of his back.
Nakyum shivers in his arms, pressing closer. Seungho’s mind muddles further.
Lungs aching, Seungho knows he should come up for air, but he can’t bear to separate. Everything he tastes, everything he touches, everything he smells is intoxicatingly Nakyum. He’s yearned for this, dreamt of this, finally has this, and Nakyum’s pliant against his mouth, tongue swirling around his own. It’s sloppy, but it only heightens his desire, spit dribbling at the corners where their lips meet.
Sufficiently oxygen deprived, Seungho parts, panting as he peppers kisses down Nakyum’s jaw, unable to tear his lips away for even a moment. Nakyum’s chest heaves, arching his neck to grant Seungho better access, hands trembling in his hair.
“More?” Seungho whispers against Nakyum’s throat.
“More.”
Seungho surges forward to pin Nakyum beneath him on the mattress.
Giving them a few moments to catch their breath, he kisses and sucks along Nakyum’s neck, careful not to leave any marks despite the burning desire to claim him, to litter his skin with pink and purple hues. Nakyum pants, face flushed and eyes glassy, and Seungho struggles to comprehend how he’s gone without for so long, knows he’ll never be able to again.
This time, it’s Nakyum that guides his face back towards his own, arms wrapping around Seungho’s neck. Seungho groans into Nakyum’s mouth, and Nakyum delves into Seungho’s, tongue stroking and exploring, hot and wet, and Seungho’s lightheaded as Nakyum takes the lead. He uses the knowledge Seungho gave him, mimicking and imitating, and Seungho’s hands clench into fists beside Nakyum’s head.
He wants more than this.
God, does he want more than this.
He wants to grind his hips down, wants to strip Nakyum of his sweater, wants to trail kisses down to his stomach and inner thighs. He wants to teach Nakyum how to take him, how to give pleasure as well as receive it, and his growing lust is only overshadowed by his deep adoration. Nakyum is still so inexperienced, only now sharing his first kiss, and he can’t push this any further no matter how desperately he desires it.
With fierce restraint and a shaky inhale, Seungho regains control, reducing the feverish kisses to languid presses. Filthy bites are replaced with tenderness, Seungho capturing Nakyum’s lip to nibble and suck, and pulling back to admire the wet swollen skin.
And then, Seungho places a final, lingering kiss to Nakyum’s lips as he savors the last taste of Nakyum’s mouth against his own.
When he pulls away, his heart squeezes at the sight of Nakyum’s flushed face and tousled hair, eyes struggling to focus on Seungho above him. It’s a beautiful sight, and Seungho resists the urge to steal another kiss.
Neither speak for a moment.
Unable to stop himself, Seungho strokes Nakyum’s hair, watching the dark strands cascade through his fingers.
“How was it?” His voice comes out hoarse, and it sounds foreign to his own ears.
“It was… good,” Nakyum says, his chest rising and falling in quick succession.
Seungho tries to conceal his disappointment. “Only good, huh?”
Nakyum swallows, eyes drifting to Seungho’s lips. “It was really good.” Shyness creeping back, he looks away, focusing instead on Seungho’s desk in the corner. “…it felt really good.”
Seungho’s heart stutters at the words. He wants to tease, wants to make light of it, but all that comes out is a breathless, “I’m glad.”
Silence settles between them as Seungho rolls onto his side, propping his head on a palm as he peers down at Nakyum beside him. Coming down from the euphoric high, unease coils around his heart and tightens the longer the silence stretches.
Nakyum’s words weigh like stones in his gut.
“What if there’s someone I want to kiss, but I don’t know how?”
That may have been Seungho's one and only chance to kiss him.
Seungho's chest tightens painfully
Of course, he knew that, knew exactly why Nakyum asked him in the first place, but fuck if it doesn’t sting.
Jealousy and dissatisfaction pull Seungho’s face into a frown, the warmth in his chest freezing over. “Well. Now you won’t look like an idiot when you kiss that guy you like. Glad I could help.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed.
“What?” Nakyum sits up, confusion twisting his face. “What are you—”
He doesn’t finish, jaw clenching nervously as he looks away, ears tinted pink.
Seungho casts a bored expression over his shoulder to mask the ache in his chest. “That’s why you asked me to teach you, isn’t it? Why are you acting surprised?”
Nakyum gnaws on his inner cheek instead of answering, and Seungho’s mood sours further.
“Anyway, if that’s the only reason you came over, you can leave,” Seungho says. “I need to finish studying.” With a huff, Seungho gets up to trudge over to his desk, but a hand wrapping around his wrist prevents him.
He stares down at the hand and then at the shy face it belongs to.
“I…” Nakyum begins, eyes downcast. He swallows before raising them to meet Seungho’s. “You’re right. That was the only reason I came over.”
Seungho takes a deep breath to control his temper, resisting the urge to retract his hand.
“But… But I wasn’t completely honest with you.” Pink warmth spreads across Nakyum’s cheeks. “There is someone I like.” Seungho’s heart clenches with a sharp throb. “And I wanted to kiss this person, but I wasn’t sure how to do it, and so I…”
A bitter taste rises to the back of Seungho’s throat. “So, you what?”
“…and so, I asked them to teach me.”
Seungho rolls his eyes. “What, so you just asked me as a backup since they already rejected—”
The world comes to a screeching halt as Nakyum’s words sink in. Seungho’s eyes widen, mouth going dry.
Ba-dum.
“Wait.”
Ba-dum, ba-dum.
“Are you saying that…”
Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum.
“You mean that you…”
Nakyum nods, flushed to his ears as his grip on Seungho’s wrist tightens. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, “I asked you for a reason.”
Seungho’s heart soars in his chest.
In an instant, he’s standing in front of Nakyum, hands cradling his face.
“You mean it?” His eyes shimmer in the light, hopeful and eager. “You wanted to kiss me?”
Nakyum nods again with a shy smile.
“You like me?”
“I like you,” Nakyum whispers.
Seungho crashes his lips against Nakyum’s in a dizzying kiss.
He’s never felt so light.
His heart races in sharp staccatos, warmth blossoming from his chest, joy radiating from his core, because Nakyum likes him, wants to kiss him, and—
“I like you too,” Seungho sighs once he parts, thumbs stroking Nakyum’s cheeks. “God, I like you so much it hurts.”
Nakyum’s hands cover Seungho’s as he peers up at him with gentle eyes. “I’m… sorry for not being completely honest.”
“Don’t be,” Seungho says, dismissing him as he leans down to kiss the corner of Nakyum’s mouth. “So, I can keep doing this?”
“Kiss me?”
“As much as I want?” Seungho kisses the other corner. “I should continue my lesson, you know. Practice makes perfect.”
“Don’t you have to study?” Nakyum bites his lip timidly, and Seungho can’t tear his gaze away.
“As do you,” Seungho murmurs against Nakyum’s mouth as he presses him back down on the bed. “So, we better get started, hm?”