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“Suho,” he heard. Faintly.
The call of his name came with a touch, a tiny one, shaking his body just a bit, just enough to inch awareness closer, though he ignored it in favor of resting; the light touch felt compelling. He didn’t want to wake up yet. Turning the other way and hoping the disturbance would get the hint, he squished his eyes even more, hoping it wouldn’t disturb his dream.
He was so close.
Dreaming of a beautiful honey-skin boy with his big, unnerving eyes, who hunts him every now and then with familiar images of teary eyes. He had never felt more comfortable sleeping before. Suho succumbed to the scent, to the feeling of nice sheets and a cold breeze. Everything was soft and fresh, a hint of honey and musk coming from the pillow lulling him back with no hesitation.
Yet, “Suho,” he was shaken again.
The tone was familiar; he knew that voice from somewhere, maybe he had dreamed of it many times. He didn’t have any plans to get up. He was quite comfy on this bed. Too comfy. Suho buried his head deeper, smacking his lips, curling his legs. His jeans were uncomfortable, but not enough to wake him, just enough to make him grumble. He was so close; he didn’t want to wake up.
Not before,
“Come on, man, you are drooling all over my pillows,” Sieun says, his tone a whisper higher than he was used to. Maybe a bit softer, a bit tender. Maybe he was dreaming of him again.
He smiles. “Aish, I am sleeping, jagiya. Don’t scold me here, too.”
Suho’s hand reached forward, looking for the round face he dreams about, hoping that this time he gets to feel him before the empty space in his hands gives away the truth and shatters his dreams, waking him up to disappointment. This time seemed different; this time, he was lucky. Maybe the comfy bed had powers; it clearly wanted him to stay there, sleeping, happy, deluded, feeding him his deepest desires to keep him there. Suho was delighted when he found it, when he finally felt the soft, tender skin under his palms.
When he could finally hold him. Touch him.
It felt warmer than he imagined, softer than he hoped for. He stroked his fingers, caressing his cheeks, hoping Sieun would be kinder in his dreams. More receptive, acceptance of his touch, and maybe understanding what he meant it for. He squished; he always wanted to.
“Cute,” Suho smiles.
Sieun really looked cute like that. His eyes were so pretty, his lips were so tempting.
It’s the first time he gets to feel him in a dream, so he squishes again, hoping to hold him. Suho looks at Sieun's flushed face and laughs, because it could only be in his dream that he is so red, his eyes so big and glossy, surprised and beautiful. He was so beautiful. Such a pretty thing to stare at.
Suho’s eyes trace his face, pulse spiking, chest puffing. Sieun's nose is so high, so present, a sculpture perfected, never meant to be replicated. His finger hovers over his nose, ever so slightly brushing the tip, following the line, eyes fixed on the way Sieun's eyes follow. He doesn’t move; his cheeks only get darker.
Suho huffs, “cute, you are so cute,” he says, pinching his cheeks, and then his gaze falls to his lips.
His lips.
His always-chapped yet perfectly shaped and plump lips.
They look as soft, pink, and flushed as the rest of him. All pink, just for him, just because of him. Suho doesn’t want to wake up. He caresses his cheeks again, pausing just a bit to look at him more, just a bit to feel the warmth of his red cheeks in the palm of his hands.
He can’t help but compare every feature of his to perfection. Because he truly is. From the moment he first saw his face, he was hooked on whoever he was; he was just so pretty, everything about him called him to action, his problems to fix, his habits to learn, and his lips to kiss.
Kiss…
Now that he can touch him, could he kiss him in his sleep?
His stomach tingles. Every nerve in his body is alive and present, the excitement of the thought running fast, with more need to reach than the oxygen to his brain. He wants it so badly. His thumb gently rubs Sieun’s cheeks before squishing them hard, making the boy pout his lips, eyes wide.
He has such pretty eyes.
Indescribable, mesmerizing, beautiful, and unnerving eyes.
Suho leans forward, his own lips puckered, mind already floating in bliss, and yet,
“What are you doing?”
Sieun’s voice comes in with blunt force, shattering his dreams as he blinks his eyes awake.
Like it burned, he lets go of Sieun’s face, jumping backward and hoping the universe is kind enough to pull him into another coma where he can only wake up after Sieun's mind and memory are wiped clean of this memory. He wouldn’t mind sleeping until he is woken up by the kiss of his one and only love, yet the cruel reality of sleeping forever has him dropping the thought before it can sparkle.
It’s not like he minded being Princess Aurora; it was simply that Sieun would be more aligned with Elsa than anyone else.
He sighs, eyes closed, “Can you pretend that never happened?”
Silence stretched against them, and for a moment, Suho thought Sieun had fled. He was too disgusted, maybe weirded out, and had left. Then he opened his eyes and realized he was there, looking at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, looking very much like he did in his dream.
He slapped himself.
“Okay, fuck, not dreaming, got it,” he mumbled. “Sorry, Sieunnie.”
Any attempt at conversation died as Sieun stood there, still staring, still pink, eyes still wide.
“What were you doing?” Sieun asked again, his voice lower, scarier.
He wouldn’t stab Suho with a pen, would he?
Fuck.
“Sorry, I was sleeping. I didn’t realize, sorry for—“
“But you were saying my name,” he said softly.
And Suho closed his eyes because he knew he was completely fucked. How was he going to explain that he, pretty much, regularly had almost-wet dreams about him? About touching him, kissing him, fucki— he was so fucked. He tried to anchor his eyes somewhere else, yet the pull of his eyes brought their gaze together.
Sieun's eyes had always been powerful; a magnetic field that dragged him back to forever keep his focus on them. It was his weakness; Suho had been weak to them ever since they met.
The air in the room felt stuffy; suddenly, it was too heavy in Suho’s chest.
He had two options: either run out of the room and never speak to him again or confess. He would never dare to lie or omit anything to him, not again, not after everything. So he sighed. Suho had never been a coward, yet he looked at Sieun's desk, then at his empty hands, and felt a bit more reassured.
Everything would be fine, or at least he hoped so.
Sieun watched him, slightly frowning; he looked nervous, too, and selfishly, that gave him a bit of confidence.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath for encouragement.
“Sieun-ah,”
“Hmm”
“Can I kiss you?”
Silence.
Sieun didn’t respond right away, and Suho kept his eyes closed, waiting. The air was heavy in his throat, his heart pounding, threatening to escape. He shivered.
“Why?” Sieun asked.
His response made Suho’s eyes snap open. It wasn’t a no, just a question, and that gave him a fluttery feeling in his stomach.
“It would drive me insane if I don't ,” Suho says, defeated.
This was so embarrassing.
The space between them seemed to widen; the silence filled with the intense beat of his heart. His body went cold, his stomach dropped, yet his gaze lingered, waiting, hoping for a soft rejection. He watched Sieun watching him, his eyebrows pinched, his head tilting, his chest drawing in breaths too long to be natural. He swayed from one foot to the other, wide, pretty eyes just staring him down.
He had the urge to drop to his knees and apologize. Seeing the turmoil gathering behind his eyes made him regret his words. Suho never intended for those pretty eyes to worry, for his pretty face to sadden, but before Suho could open his mouth, Sieun nodded.
A tiny, almost shy, nod.
If he wasn’t staring, he would’ve missed it. A part of him whispered he was hallucinating.
Incredulous, Suho stared at Sieun with wide eyes, a light smile forming on his face, softening his gaze. His blood rushed all over his body, jittery as he was finally able to elicit a reaction from him. He smiled, big this time, full, as he got out of bed.
Sieun was there, standing, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted, eyes closed. Waiting, expectant, like he, too, had wanted this for so long.
It only took Suho four steps to reach him, yet, standing chest to chest, he couldn’t help but take one more step, his steady hand on Sieun's waist, preventing him from stepping back and allowing no space to gather between them.
“Sieun-ah,” he mumbled, encouraged by their proximity, delighted by the effect he seemed to have on him.
This close, Sieun looked even more beautiful; his eyes were still closed, yet when Suho’s hand brushed his cheeks, they snapped open. The room around them seemed to blur, and all he could do was focus on him. His breath caught as he tried to squirm away, escape his bold decision, but Suho, already knowing and anticipating, didn’t let him; he would never let him.
His arm snuck up around Sieun's waist, feet intertwining as he pulled him closer.
Suho would never get tired of seeing those pretty eyes. His thumb kept brushing his warm cheeks.
“Sieunnie is so pretty,” he mumbled, fingers lifting his chin, “the prettiest.”
“Suho,” Sieun called, chest drawing in a breath deeper than usual.
He didn’t answer, at least not immediately; he kept staring, savoring the way he looked at him, so expectant, loving how his body trembled just because they were close. Relief and excitement rushed in as he realized he felt the same way.
“Suho,” he calls again, and Suho smiles, his lips stretching as his gaze grows fond. Sieun tries to step back, but Suho huffs, pushing him back, still smiling.
“Suho,” he whines, finally.
“Mmh.”
There’s a hint of betrayal in Sieun’s gaze, his hand clutching the fabric of his gray sweater. He looks up at him, expectant, embarrassed, hopeful, nervous. Suho lets out a chuckle, his gaze still on him, taking him in, delighted by the way his nose twitches, how his lips are slightly open, a small puff of air flowing through them, and how impatient he is.
Sieun is waiting for him; he is waiting for him to kiss him.
Suho’s stomach flutters; he is all flushed because of him, pink turning red the more he stares. His sparkling doe eyes jump from his eyes to his lips, back to his eyes, lips curling in a pout. Good God.
He is waiting for Suho, hoping he’ll make the first move.
Not even his wildest dream could replicate this.
Suho smiles before dipping closer. His movements are abrupt, making Sieun gasp as he sighs in relief. Finally. With his lips pressed to his, Sieun's hand grabs Suho’s shoulder, afraid to fall back as his feet drag.
He can’t control it. He has tried to control it for years now.
He walks them back to Sieun's desk, one hand on his hips, the other on the table, caging him in, pressing his body to his. Sieun’s whimpers are tender, sweet like his taste. Their lips move, hungry, all teeth and open mouth, messy and desperate. Sieun drags his hands from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, fingers exploring until he fists the hair on top of his head, pushing Suho closer. Suho’s hand travels from his hips to the back of his thigh, hitching his leg up and squishing.
“Suho,” Sieun breathes, so soft, his brown eyes dazzled, his lips glistening and a bit swollen.
“You drive me insane,” Suho says, his forehead glued to Sieun’s as he tries to calm down.
They try to catch their breath, their chests heaving as their open mouths somehow draw them back to each other. One kiss turns into two, three, four, then a full make-out session.
He is addicted to his scent, to his taste, to the way his chest rises and falls, trying to keep up. They are dizzy on each other, biting, sucking, taking, and taking. They are impatient, the years of longing finally catching up to them as their hands roam freely over their bodies.
Suho is obsessed with his sounds, the soft whimpers, the frustrated huffs, the deep grunts. Sieun is giving him everything, and selfishly, he takes everything and demands more.
“Sieunnie,” Suho whimpers.
Dropping his head onto Sieun's shoulders, he rubbed circles on his back as he settled between his thick thighs. Suho took a deep breath, his lungs thanking him for the merciful act, his pulse erratic in his ears. He hugged Sieun closer, their bodies melting into each other, breathing as one as their hearts beat in sync, the world around them coming into focus.
Suho stepped back, just for a bit, just enough to see Sieun's pretty face.
“You drive me insane, did you know that?” he said, his tone accusatory.
And Sieun?
He stared at him for a long time, hair damp and parted, cheeks pink and eyes dazzling. He stared at Suho long enough to make him flush completely, his heart stumbling as Sieun looked away with a shy smile.
He huffed, incredulous, as his hand guided his head back to him and softly kissed his lips.
Suho pinched Sieun’s thighs, and he bit his lips in return, the pain ensuring neither of them was dreaming again.