Chapter Text
Jaechan lives in a world where people are divided in two. One half of the population can see a million colors, from vibrant red to vivid green, from the bluest shade of the sea to the orange tint in the sky at sunset. While for the other half, every single thing is a dull black and white.
Everyone is born with a soulmate, and the best/worst thing about it is your soulmate will come from the other end of the scale. If you’re colorblind, your soulmate is able to see colors, and the other way around. But since the universe likes to play cruel jokes, there is a twist. Everything switches when you touch. Which means the colorblind person will be able to see colors... while the other one will lose their colorsight.
It’s bittersweet; so much to lose and so much to gain. Most colorsighted people are willing to pay the high price for choosing their soulmate. Except for a select few who don’t. And one of them is Jaechan.
He can’t—doesn’t—ever want to imagine how it feels like to live in shades of gray, how dull and uninspiring. So every time he hears that a switch has happened to someone he knows, he just… doesn’t get it.
“Hyejin-noona, really?” Jaechan stares at Sehyeon like he’s grown two extra heads. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, she’ll move to Busan. That’s where her soulmate lives,” the older boy replies, continuing to stack the albums on the stand. “The new assistant manager will be here next week.”
Jaechan still looks at him, trying to digest what he just said. Hyejin loves—at least she used to—neon colors and everything vibrant. Her hair is electric blue, for God’s sake. “It’s not gonna happen to me,” he mutters, more to himself than anything, averting his eyes to the row of LP records in front of him. “Nobody is worth losing colors for.” He watches them for a moment before looking back at Sehyeon. “I’ll marry you instead when I’m thirty.”
Sehyeon bursts out a laugh in that annoying, laid-back way of his, then clears his throat when Jaechan pouts at him. “Sorry, but you’re late. Jonghyeong already booked me to marry him when he’s twenty-five,” he jokes.
“I’m not joking,” Jaechan retorts, pout turning into a frown. “You know I’m not joking, hyung.” Also, Jonghyeong? Please, he’s just a child.
Sehyeon’s face softens. “I know you’re not, Jaechanie, and you know I adore you to pieces. But we don’t know the future. You can meet your soulmate tomorrow and feel the irresistible pull that draws soulmates together, and change your mind. After all, they’re the missing half of your soul,” he says, giving Jaechan a gentle pat on his cheek.
Jaechan says nothing because it’s wrong. Sehyeon is wrong. In his mind, there is never a doubt. Why would he give up the best thing in the world for anyone? Imagine not being able to distinguish between red and green apples, or his favorite purple hoodie from the blue one. It’s unthinkable.
Nobody is worth that much sacrifice.
For obvious reasons, Jaechan isn’t interested in finding his soulmate. He always doubts people’s stories of how meeting their soulmate upends their world, and at the same time makes the stars align. It’s even harder for him to relate because he’s never been attracted to anyone, for as long as he remembers in his twenty-one years of existence. He appreciates beauty in people, their colorful make-ups and hair colors, and how their clothes complement their skin tone. But it’s not an attraction.
So, he doesn’t understand why his heart suddenly beats three times faster when he walks in
The man in question is tall—he towers over Ms. Aeri next to him—and undoubtedly handsome, with dark eyes and not a hair out of place. He’s wearing a white turtleneck sweater and a long, brown coat that looks like it’s perfectly tailored for him. He’s... stunning, and Jaechan can’t look away. He’s rooted to his spot behind the counter, feeling like his surroundings begin to fade away as the man walks closer and closer. Vaguely, he hears Sehyeon telling him something he can’t make out of.
“Ow!” Jaechan squeaks when Sehyeon pinches his waist. “What the hell?” he hisses, after making sure that the man and Ms. Aeri are still talking to Mingyu near the Woodstock section. Thank God.
“You might want to wipe off that drool before they come here,” Sehyeon says with a straight face, but his eyes glint with humor. Jaechan doesn’t have time to bite back because they have reached the counter.
“This is Kim Sehyeon and Park Jaechan,” he hears Ms. Aeri say. “Boys, this is the new assistant manager, Park Seoham.”
From the corner of his eye, Jaechan sees the man—Seoham—shake hands with Sehyeon, and then he turns to him. Jaechan swallows, fixing his gaze on Seoham’s throat instead of his eyes. But it was a bad move, because now he can’t help noticing how the collar ends just below his Adam’s apple, and how… distracting it is.
He inwardly curses the ridiculous thoughts. God, what’s wrong with him?
“Jaechan?” Ms. Aeri’s sharp voice shakes him off his reverie.
He glances up at his manager, who’s watching him with raised eyebrows. Oh, right. He reluctantly averts his gaze to Seoham’s outstretched hand in front of him, before wandering up to meet his eyes. A loud gasp escapes him. It’s like trying to look at the sun, despite knowing that it’s blinding. But Jaechan can’t stop staring at his deep, intense eyes, straight nose, and flawless skin, and perfectly-shaped reddish lips. It shouldn’t be possible to be that attractive.
Time seems to slow down. Seoham’s eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t look away, and his lips part as if he wanted to say something. Unconsciously, Jaechan reaches out to take his hand. As soon as their hands touch, two things happen at once. A gentle shiver crawls over Jaechan’s skin, from the tip of his fingers all the way down to his toes, and at the same time the colors in his vision fade away, leaving a cold, grayscale image in its wake.
No, no, no. Jaechan yanks his hand free, holding it to his chest like it’s burning. He breathes rapidly, until little by little the colors begin to return, starting from the various vinyl on the wall to the brown wooden stands, and he’s never been happier to see Jonghyeong’s lilac hair. It’s fine, you’re fine. He draws in a deep breath, painfully aware that he’s making a scene and everyone in the store is looking at him. But he doesn’t want this—whatever it is. He can’t. Go… he needs to go.
The last thing he sees before fleeing to the back of the room is the concern on Park Seoham’s beautiful face.
Jaechan doesn’t know how long he’s been hiding in the storage room. He left his phone on the counter, and there’s no clock in here. It could be five minutes or an hour, he has no idea. It’s like he’s lost all sense of time.
When someone finally enters the room, Jaechan squeezes his eyes closed. Please... let it be Sehyeon or Jonghyeong, or anyone. But not him. Please.
“Jaechan, right?”
Even his soft, slightly raspy voice sends a tingle down Jaechan’s spine. Against his own judgement, he opens one eye, then followed by the other. Seoham is standing by the door, watching him with concern in his eyes, but his lips quirk up into a faint, friendly smile. He moves one step closer, very carefully, as though he doesn’t wanna startle a wounded animal.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you out there,” Seoham says again when Jaechan doesn’t reply. He takes another step forward and freezes when Jaechan steps back. “I’m not going to touch you, I promise. I just think we need to talk.”
Feeling the cold wall behind him, Jaechan has nowhere to go. He looks at Seoham warily, not sure what he’s supposed to do. But Seoham sounds so earnest, and for some reason he can’t figure out, Jaechan believes him. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Talking is fine.”
“I’ll be quick,” Seoham assures him softly. But then he falls silent. For a moment he’s just standing there, a few feet away, eyes never leaving Jaechan’s face. But his smile seems genuine—and Jaechan can’t look away either. “You and I are… soulmates. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” he finally says. “But nobody says we have to be together. We don’t have to be anything more than colleagues, or maybe friends eventually, but that’s it.”
Silence hangs in the air between them. Jaechan is too stunned to speak, and Seoham is waiting for him to respond. “I don’t… understand. Are you serious?” Jaechan croaks. Is it really that simple?
“Yes.”
“But why?” Jaechan asks, and immediately regrets it. What the fuck is he doing? This is what he’s always wanted, and it turns out his soulmate wants the same thing. He shouldn’t push his luck. “Don’t you want to see colors? Or… is it because you were expecting someone else?” Someone older, more mature? He doesn’t know how old Seoham is, but he’s definitely a lot older than Jaechan’s twenty-one.
Seoham watches him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “No, sweetheart. You’re very beautiful, anyone would be lucky to be your soulmate.”
God, his voice. Jaechan blinks, fighting the urge to cover his warming cheeks with both hands. Stop being ridiculous, he's just being nice. “Then why wouldn’t you?”
The playful smile on Seoham’s face disappears, replaced by a wistful one. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter to me at all, that I’d never wanted to see colors anyway. Because I do. Sometimes,” he admits, putting his hands into his coat pocket. “But there’s a certain peacefulness in a world where everything is monochromatic, nothing’s trying to be louder than the others.”
Whatever Jaechan expected to hear from him, this isn’t it. “Okay?” he murmurs, still feeling unsure. Seoham takes another step forward, and then one more, never once breaking the eye contact. He’s close enough that Jaechan has to tilt his head up to look at him.
“Because I don’t need colors in my world to feel alive,” he says softly. “But I think you do.”
Saying that everyone in the record store likes Seoham is an understatement, ‘cause they love him. It only takes two days for them to fall under his spell. Not that Jaechan is counting or anything, he just happens to be there. But honestly, it’s easy to see why Seoham is getting so popular so fast. He tells everyone to call him hyung already on the first day, and he’s always there for anyone who needs help. On top of that, he treats them more like friends than subordinates, like giving Mingyu a high-five when he sold a rare album, or ruffling Jonghyeong’s hair when he does something cute (which is oddly often). And he’s been keeping his promise not to touch Jaechan again so far.
So, everything’s fine. Jaechan has met his soulmate and said soulmate has no intention of taking away his colorsight. He should be happy, right?
But Seoham still takes his breath away, every time he walks into the room. And when their eyes meet, it’s like the world just... blurs out. Seoham doesn’t treat him differently from the others, but once in a while he will stare at him for a moment, whenever he thinks Jaechan isn’t looking, and it never fails to heat up Jaechan’s face and make his stomach flutter, in a way that he doesn’t understand.
And it won’t stop; no matter how hard he tries to fight it.
He’s gonna strangle Kim Jonghyeong.
Jaechan’s opinion about the lilac-haired boy usually swings between kinda cute to pretty annoying, but right now he’s downright aggravating. For the last half an hour, he’s been talking to Seoham in the break room, laughing and giving him puppy eyes—if puppies could look flirty—as if they’re the only people in the room. Newsflash, they aren’t. Jaechan is there, too, and so is Sehyeon, even though he’s currently busy with his noodles and doesn’t seem to be annoyed by the noise.
“Don’t hurt your teeth.”
Jaechan turns to Sehyeon who continues to chew as if he didn’t just say something with his mouth full. “What?”
Sehyeon swallows the noodles before taking a gulp of his iced tea. “You’d hurt your teeth if you keep grinding them like that.” His observation skill is top-notch, as usual.
“I don’t—“ Jaechan starts, but then he realizes it was true. Just as he’s about to argue anyway, there’s another laughter from the other table. Jonghyeong has his hand on Seoham’s upper arm and practically caresses him, here in front of everyone to see. That shameless little—
The chair screeches when Jaechan pushes it back and stands up. He ignores everyone’s eyes on him as he crosses the floor, stopping next to their table. Both of them look up at him in surprise. “Excuse me, Seoham-hyung, I need Jonghyeong to help me with something.” Jaechan knows he’s being rude, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Please?” he forces a smile that surely looks more like a grimace.
It looks like Jonghyeong’s about to object, but Seoham smiles at Jaechan. A much more genuine one at that. “It’s okay, I must get back to work anyway. I’ll see you guys later,” he says, rising from his seat and leaving the room.
Jonghyeong doesn’t even try to hide his displeasure. He confronts Jaechan as soon as they’re alone in the storage room. “What do you want, hyung? I know for sure you don’t need my help to tidy up the new boxes, because I already did it this morning.”
Okay, so we’re going straight to the point. He can do that. “What are you doing out there? Flirting with Seoham-hyung in front of everyone in broad daylight. Have you already forgotten who he is?”
Jonghyeong rolls his eyes. “Of course I know he’s your soulmate. But you two don’t want anything to do with each other, so that means he’s fair game. Right?”
Jaechan’s mouth falls open for a second before he snaps it shut. The audacity of this kid. “I meant to say he’s our superior, and dating within the company is prohibited, in case you forgot. But now that you mentioned it, yes, he’s my soulmate. So, knock it off.”
“But you don’t even want him,” Jonghyeong sounds genuinely bewildered this time. “Though I can never understand why. He’s a catch. Have you seen anyone so gorgeous, so perfect? If he was my soulmate I’d give up my colorsight twenty times over. It’d be more than worth it.”
Jaechan stares at him, dumbfounded. “But you love colors. I mean you change your hair color twice a week,” he points out accusingly. “And you wear tie-dyes.”
“So? I know I’ll look good in black and white anyway,” Jonghyeong states with a shrug. Then he looks at Jaechan with narrowed eyes. “Wait… have you changed your mind?”
“Of course not,” Jaechan says, a bit too defensively.
Jonghyeong’s smile is saccharine sweet when he speaks again. “Awesome, I’m glad we got it settled. I’ll help Seoham-hyung with the invoices; it’s quicker if he has someone to help sort them by colors. Catch you later, Jaechanie-hyung.” Then he’s gone, leaving Jaechan alone in the middle of unopened boxes.
Sometimes their record store hosts parties, like birthdays, Christmas, or office parties. And Jaechan absolutely hates those times. There is so much to do, and he has to keep reminding people that they can’t touch some of the rare vinyl on the wall. Not to mention the noise. And today there is even confetti involved. Oh, dear God. Jaechan inwardly cries, thinking about the clean-up from hell they will have to do tonight.
He mutters an excuse that he needs to get some air and escapes to the rooftop before anyone can stop him. Chilly April air greets him, feeling so pleasant on his overheated skin. Good, he needs this. Jaechan steps closer to the railing and leans over to look at the city skyline before his eyes. He can't stay for long since the temperature will drop once the sun sets, and he’s not wearing his coat. But he’s not coming back downstairs. Not yet.
Jaechan is so lost in his thoughts that he gasps when someone materializes next to him. He stares at the intruder with wide eyes, puffs of cold air leaving his half-opened mouth.
“Sorry. Did I startle you?” Seoham asks. He also leans over the railing, a few feet away from Jaechan, being careful not to get too close to him as usual. Always thoughtful.
“No, it’s fine,” Jaechan says, trying to look away and failing. Seoham is wearing a black button-down shirt and black jeans that make his legs look a mile long. He is… breathtaking. Literally.
Seoham turns to him and meets his eyes. They look at each other in silence, the noise from the city traffic below them sounds somehow muted. Why does this keep happening? Jaechan could look at him for the longest time and his presence would still affect him. Stop it, idiot. Drawing in a breath, Jaechan reluctantly averts his gaze to a tall building in the distance, and how its glass windows beautifully reflect the late-afternoon sunlight.
“So, what are you doing up here?” Jaechan asks without looking at him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Seoham staring at him for a few more seconds before looking away.
“The same as you, I suppose. For a breather.”
Okay, that makes sense. Especially because the party downstairs is an office party, where almost all the women flocked to him like birds. “It can’t be easy to be hot, if you constantly have to fend off people who want your attention.” Wait, what? In times like these, Jaechan wishes he had a better brain-to-mouth filter. But the damage is done.
Seoham turns to him again before laughing softly, his eyes crinkling. It’s so cute, and Jaechan doesn’t need him to be cute on top of everything else. “I’m flattered that you think I’m hot.”
Jaechan’s cheeks heat up, but he forces himself to keep going. “Obviously. I bet 10.300 people have told you that before. And if you own a mirror at home, you must have seen yourself.” He pauses when he realizes how casual—borderline rude—he’s been. The man’s still his assistant manager, after all. Should he apologize or something?
But Seoham merely chuckles, eyes never leaving Jaechan’s face. “You’re adorable, Jaechanie.”
A smile threatens to make its way over Jaechan’s face. Is Seoham flirting with him? He purses his lips together and quickly changes the subject. “Do you see that building over there? If the sun hits it just right you can see the people inside, sometimes they can see you, too. I waved at them once and a few people waved back. Of course, it’s too far away to see clearly, but it’s fun, isn’t it?” he babbles. “You can’t even see if they’re the same people every time. It could be a meeting room or something. But sometimes I name them in my head, and think, hey that’s Daehyun and Eunsoo who just waved at me.” He pauses and inhales. “It’s silly and boring.” That’s already more than what he said to his other colleagues in a week.
Seoham gives him another smile. “It’s neither silly nor boring,” he assures him. “Which building again?”
“That blue one over there,” Jaechan starts, stopping when he realizes what he just said. “Oh, sorry… I mean—“
“No, don’t be. We see the world in different ways and that’s fine,” Seoham says patiently, though he can’t completely conceal the wistfulness in his voice. “So which building is it?”
Jaechan looks at him. Like most colorsighted people, he’s always caught up in his own world, living selfishly, never wondering how the other world works. “The one with the pyramid-like roof, next to that one with a helipad.”
“Ah, got it.” For a moment, neither of them speaks. Seoham is watching the building, and Jaechan is watching him.
“Humor me, Seoham-hyung. If you could see anything in colors, what would it be?” It’s a stupid, selfish question. And if Seoham didn’t want to answer it, Jaechan would understand. But he wants to know.
Seoham keeps looking straight ahead, but there’s a smile on his face. “The sky, definitely. I could look at it for hours,” he says. “If it’s already beautiful as it is for me, I can’t imagine how it would look like bathed in colors."
On Friday after closing time, they’re all invited to Seoham’s new place for a housewarming party. He once told Ms. Aeri that he hadn’t had time to buy a cutting board, so he gets a coffeemaker and a set of kitchen knives and a cutting board as a group gift.
The apartment is in another district, about ten miles away from the record store. Seoham has only lived there for a week, but it already looks immaculate with the white walls, glass doors, gray-toned metal shelves and a hint of black from the decorative items on the wall. It’s bright and tidy, a stark contrast to Jaechan’s place where his stuff is dumped together in piles, and he can never find what he’s looking for.
Ms. Aeri couldn’t stay for long, and her husband picked her up around nine PM. That leaves the remaining five trying to fit in Seoham’s bedroom, since it’s the only room with a table. Jaechan sits next to Mingyu at the table, with Jonghyeong on the other side, while Sehyeon sits down on the bed next to Seoham. It’s a little tight (Jaechan winced when Mingyu’s pointy elbow accidentally hit him) but still very cozy. Seoham has a music player and a nice collection of vintage LPs, and he let them choose which ones to play. And the food just keeps coming.
“How much food did you order? We haven’t even finished these,” Jaechan asks, when Seoham stands up to answer the door for the third time that evening.
“Enough.” Seoham winks at him before leaving the room.
Unbelievable. “There’s no way we can eat them all,” he complains, leaning back on his chair. “I’m so full, even one adzuki bean would make my stomach explode.”
Jonghyeong picks up a boiled shrimp and chews on it. “Chill out, hyung, it’s Saturday tomorrow, we don’t have to go home yet. And Seoham-hyung can always refrigerate the leftovers,” he says after swallowing. “He likes buying people food, if you actually spend time with him you’d know.”
Did he just—what’s that supposed to mean? “What are you trying to say exactly?” Jaechan demands, eyes dangerously narrowed.
“Nothing. Just stating a fact,” Jonghyeong replies with a saccharine smile, reaching out for another shrimp.
Before Jaechan can retaliate, the-old-man-in-a-young-man’s-body Sehyeon interjects. “Ignore him, Jaechan, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. And you,” he sighs, turning to Jonghyeong. “Stop provoking him. Seoham-hyung is his soulmate, not yours.”
“But he doesn’t even want him. Can you guys believe it—a perfect man like that?” Jonghyeong says, looking Jaechan in the eye, as if daring him to deny it. And Jaechan just... can’t, because it’s true. How many times has he told them he won’t give up his colorsight for anyone? As far as everyone’s concerned, their decision not to get together is mutual. Which is also true.
When Jonghyeong speaks again, his voice softens. “He talks about you a lot, you know. All the time. How cute you are, how hardworking, and so funny without even trying,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t have to be loud, because everyone is hanging on to his every word. “And he’s always watching you.”
Jaechan can only stare back at him. What is he supposed to say to that? He doesn’t need anyone to tell him that Seoham is perfect, because he already knows. From the first time he saw him three weeks ago. Other people would at least attempt to do something, right? They could try to persuade Jaechan, or even take it up a notch by seducing him. Anything. Seoham must’ve felt the same electric pull that Jaechan feels about him, and could’ve used it to his advantage. So why didn’t he?
Because I don't need colors in my world to feel alive. But I think you do.
Speak of the devil. “Who’s up for dessert?” Seoham asks cheerfully as he comes in with a plastic bag in his hand and sits back down on the bed. “I’ve got different stuff here: bungeoppang, hotteok, and yakgwa, also some dalgona. Help yourselves.”
As if on cue, everyone reaches out to take a piece. Funnily enough, Jaechan and Jonghyeong go after the same bungeoppang. When their eyes meet, Jonghyeong gives him a subtle nod and a smile, letting go of the cake. He reaches for a star-shaped dalgona instead. Taking a small bite of his fish-shaped cake, Jaechan steals a look at Seoham who’s laughing while taking to Sehyeon.
Would you turn him down if he tried?
Isn’t that the million-dollar question? If anyone asked Jaechan three weeks ago, he would’ve said yes in capital letters. But right now... he has no idea.
The party ends around one AM. Jaechan and Jonghyeong decide to share a cab since they live close to each other. After giving the direction to the driver, Jaechan leans back on the seat and closes his eyes. He’s exhausted, with so many thoughts swirling around in his head, refusing to leave him alone. For the first few minutes, Jonghyeong makes some small talk with the driver, that chatterbox, but then he goes silent.
Jaechan almost falls asleep when he hears Jonghyeong say his name. “Are we good, Jaechan-hyung?” His eyes fly open, and he turns his head to see street lights flashing on Jonghyeong’s face.
“Sure, why wouldn’t we be?”
They look at each other for a moment, then Jonghyeong smiles. Automatically, Jaechan smiles back at him, because his smile is contagious like that. “But I meant what I said,” Jonghyeong says when they stop at a red light. “With Seoham-hyung, if you don’t make a move someone else will. Unless you’ve absolutely decided that you won’t do it. But have you, really?”
Jaechan’s silence is louder than any words can say. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But not being able to see colors again for the rest of my life… that’s a lot to ask. I—don’t think I can do it.”
“Of course, it’s a huge sacrifice. And you’re the one with something to lose.”
“But everyone does it,” Jaechan says miserably. “You would do it.”
Jonghyeong looks at him with a solemn smile, suddenly looking more mature than his age. “I would. But it doesn’t mean you have to.”
“What are we doing here, Jaechanie?” Seoham inquires as he trails behind Jaechan up the stairs that lead to the rooftop. He’s been asking the same question since Jaechan asked him to come with him, though he doesn’t hesitate to follow.
“You’ll see it in a minute,” is all Jaechan says.
It’s around five-thirty in the afternoon. The sun is shining low on the horizon, and the sky is clear, with only a few white clouds dotting here and there. It couldn’t be more perfect. They have to do this now before Jaechan loses his courage and backs off.
He stops near the railing, and Seoham does too a couple of feet away. He looks at Jaechan questioningly. “What is it? Did people ask you to lure me up here for some kind of prank?” He turns to observe around the rooftop, searching for anything suspicious. But he can’t seem to find any.
Swallowing hard, Jaechan takes one step closer to him. Seoham looks even more confused. He steps back when Jaechan suddenly gets too close, before their bodies can touch. “What are you doing?” he asks, lifting an arm to put a distance between them. “Jaechan, I need to know what’s going on.”
Here goes nothing. “Just let me do one good thing for you, hyung.” Jaechan says, staring up at him. “One thing.” And before Seoham can utter a protest, Jaechan grabs his outstretched arm and holds it with both hands.
Unlike last time, Jaechan is ready this time. But still, nothing can prepare him for the sensation of all the colors in his vision being stripped away. There is no more blue sky or orange sun, the bright sky turning into a gradient of black and gray. Everything is muted, lifeless. It’s fucking terrifying. But as he looks back at the man in front of him, his heart skips a beat, because Seoham is just as beautiful in monochrome as he is in colors. Not sure how it’s possible.
Seoham’s eyes are wide open, staring up at the sky that Jaechan knows is blue, and for a moment, he is too stunned to speak. “Jaechanie, why are you—?”
“That’s blue, Seoham-hyung. Blue sky and white clouds,” Jaechan says, keeping the clutch on his arm. “And the sun is orange when it sets, leaving a gradient of red, orange, and yellow in the sky.”
Seoham doesn’t reply. His gaze wanders over the sky, then the city skyline, before it finally stops on Jaechan’s face. Seoham’s lips part ever so slowly, dark eyes roaming all over Jaechan’s face as if being transfixed by every inch of skin he finds there. Their eyes meet for some long, long seconds, and somehow, their faces are getting closer, too.
“Your lips...” Seoham says in a low voice. “What color are they?” His eyes trail down Jaechan’s face and linger on his full lips.
Jaechan blinks up at him. His lips? “Um, they’re… peach color, I guess.”
Seoham doesn’t reply as he continues to stare at Jaechan’s lips in fascination. Slowly, he lifts a hand as though wanting to touch them. But he changes his mind halfway and cradles Jaechan’s face instead, brushing his thumb over Jaechan’s cheek, “Peach color,” he repeats softly. “I’ll remember that.”
You'll remember the color of my lips over the sky?
Jaechan realizes he’s been squeezing Seoham’s arm to a point where it must be painful. But Seoham doesn’t seem to mind.
“We don’t have much time left,” Jaechan breathes out, hating himself for ruining everything. But they have to stop. Soon. He’s done his research, and he won’t lose his colorsight as long as the contact doesn’t last too long. But how long is too long? “I’m so sorry…”
The hand on his face is gone before Jaechan has time to react. Then Seoham steps back, forcing Jaechan to release his arm. No, wait! Jaechan frowns at him with his hands hovering in midair.
“Thank you.”
Gradually, Seoham’s lips turn redder, and his eyes begin to glow. God, he’s so beautiful. Glorious. And it breaks Jaechan’s heart that Seoham can’t see it, how the late-afternoon sunlight dances on his skin as he moves.