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"I would watch this in cinemas," Hyojin whispers onto Seungjun's skin, watching as the other boy shivers, cold sweat dripping down his temples. His bangs displayed on his burning forehead, sticky and wet and curly and— "You, like this. Me. Here. I would get the ticket to every single show."
Seungjun wonders how they got into this situation. He thinks if he is more interesting than Hyojin’s favourite movie by any chance, he wonders how they got from watching interstellar to this— to Hyojin on top of him. To his phone playing a cheesy, romantic song just because Hyojin decided to randomly take his phone and start shuffling the playlist Seungjun has made for him in the middle of eating buttery popcorn. And because every single song in that playlist is cheesy. And their hands must still smell like popcorn, and so, Hyojin’s mouth too, must still taste like lime soda— Why is he even considering that?
And Hyojin looks too good in a plain black sweater, and his hair looks fairest of all, shinier than ever, Seungjun thinks. It’s a first for sure.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Seungjun admits in a small voice, his pupils wide, seeking forgiveness from his best friend who he knows is sensitive about everyone listening to every single syllable that comes out of his mouth every time he speaks. And Seungjun is usually great at that, which is probably why they have made it so far.
Which is probably why they’re stuck in this position in the first place.
Hyojin rolls his eyes at him, then noses Seungjun’s cheeks and whispers again, “I said, I would watch this in cinemas,”
“Oh..” Seungjun nods his head and looks around, like he is trying to find the audience to the hilarious show that Hyojin is putting up, like this is no way in hell real and they must be actors stuck behind the screen.
Seungjun exhales under Hyojin, chest tightly trying to make space for his exhales through the space between him and his best friend, an awkward, forced laughter breaks the silence between them, Hyojin is still sitting on top of him, watching him closely for an answer, "You would sell out the screens for sure.."
"Of course," Hyojin tucks a few strands behind Seungjun's ears, "You look too pretty for anyone else to watch."
"Hyojin!" Seungjun shouts involuntarily, then covers his own mouth with his hand in response. Afterall, it’s too late, and he doesn’t want any of his sisters banging on his door in protest, telling him to shut up and that he is always either laughing or talking out too loud when Hyojin’s over.
The flirtatious sentence hits him after he has been loud and whiney about it.
Seungjun tries to ignore his hands that start to shake.
“What?” Hyojin carelessly whispers, a hint of playfulness in his low voice,
"You can't just say that out loud!"
The palm of Hyojin's hands push harder into Seungjun’s shoulders, keeping him down.
“But I just did,” Seungjun looks at Hyojin and sees a different person, there is no trace of the playful Hyojin, nor there is any of the smirk left on his glossed lips, It’s pure Hyojin. A form so raw that Seungjun has never seen before, “Are you gonna stop me, Seungjunnie?”
Hyojin breathes on Seungjun’s parted lips.
And there is a hint of lime soda to it.
And his true guess is enough for Seungjun to cross every single line of his morals.
"Lips," is the first thing Seungjun dares to say out loud, not too loud, because Hyojin is so close that Seungjun is afraid he could hear every single messy thought that he is having right now.
Seungjun slowly reaches out, touching Hyojin's face with his burning hands, so gentle, so kind, like he is afraid that his fingertips might leave ugly marks on the beauty, "Pretty lips,"
Hyojin leans into his touch, closing his eyes. Seungjun watches him, fascinated by the way Hyojin’s lashes flutter against his cheeks, how his breathing slows, taking his time with it. The playlist moves to the next song by Maktub, and Hyojin hums along to it, the vibration traveling down Seungjun’s fingertips, making his heart pound harder than it has any right to.
"Could they greet yours?"
“What?”
Hyojin laughs, flipping Seungjun’s stomach upside down at the sound, his voice lowering into a hum again, “The pretty lips, could they greet yours?”
Seungjun feels like a high-schooler again, he definitely thinks that he’s acting like one. He feels like him and Hyojin are young again, as that might just be the last time he recalls Hyojin asking for his permission on anything. That he has done anything that would've needed his permission.
His answer is as clear as a day.
"Absolutely, pretty boy."
Hyojin rolls his eyes in desperation, "Good god, finally," is the last thing Hyojin desperately whispers before their lips clash, unstable and messy. There is just a pair of lips smashed against Seungjun's like a face smashed against a glass wall, displaced and wrong, cold and stale and—
Hyojin tilts his head to adjust their angle.
Something in Seungjun loses control.
"Hyojinnie," comes out of Seungjun's mouth before he thinks. "You're such a bad kisser,"
There is a punch to his stomach, and a burst of laughter heard from both of them that fills up the room.
And that’s the first time Seungjun is kissed.
Seungjun kicks a rock with his foot, the tiny, gray piece of rock takes a long way and lands right in front of Hyojin's red converse.
Hyojin laughs, and Seungjun finally hears something other than the river around the park, after minutes of dealing with no thing other than the silence around them and the tiny high pitched voices in his own head, running around and asking question after another, word after word.
God, is he grateful for that laughter.
Hyojin chews on the residual gum of his lollipop, his whole mouth stained blue, "What's gotten princess upset again?"
Seungjun’s head is full, it’s full of whys and whats and wheres. It’s been three weeks since the incident that none of them dare to talk about what happened. A Seungjun from before wouldn't see this as a problem, but that’s not what he has to deal with at all. The problem is, he’s dying to have more of whatever they had going on that night.
It’s all he dreams of every night, he sees himself and Hyojin on that sofa, Hyojin in his black sweater on top of him, His lips shiny and red, how they used to shimmer every time he pulled back, the hands, how they roamed his waist, how they reshaped his hair into a knotted mess. Even the lime soda. He missed it. He missed that Hyojin, he missed the part of himself that let that Hyojin do whatever he wants to him.
He missed it all.
And most importantly, he couldn’t come to say any of it to Hyojin.
There goes his excuses.
Seungjun sighs and kicks another rock, his hands holding tighter into the chains of the swing, he searches for the quickest solution that comes to mind, an exam, of course, "I hate college!"
Even he wants to laugh at that act.
Hyojin pops the plastic stick out of his mouth, "I have a strong feeling that college hates you too,"
Seungjun throws a handful of rocks in Hyojin's direction in response, huffing so loud it makes his bangs fly out of his forehead into the air. Hyojin wheezes at the sight.
"I keep forgetting that I shouldn't complain to my nerd best friend," Seungjun starts to push the swing backwards, looking down at his own shoes, pouting in protest, "It's not like I have other ones though?"
Hyojin rolls his eyes, throwing the lollipop stick away and crouching down in front of Seungjun, his hands gripping the swing's chains, just above Seungjun’s stopping Seungjun's movement, "Oh, poor princess," Hyojin mocks, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "If you're that miserable, just drop out already,"
Seungjun stares at Hyojin, his throat tightening. Hyojin is so close, close enough for Seungjun to see the blue dye staining the corner of his lips, close enough for Seungjun to smell the artificial sweetness clinging to his breath. It makes Seungjun's chest ache, makes him want to lean forward and taste it for himself.
Unfortunately, Hyojin seems to notice that.
Hyojin pulls himself closer to the swing— to Seungjun, who walks one step back with the swing at every inch closer they get. Hyojin stops him, keeping him at his place and standing right in front of Seungjun’s swing, his hand slowly traveling down, closer to Seungjun’s.
"Seungjun."
Seungjun blinks a few times, feeling Hyojin’s fingers— how they wrap around his against the cold metal, "Yes?" he feels his own palm pressing harder and harder against the chains. Hyojin’s on top of his.
"You're adorable,"
Seungjun's heart sinks. And so does his body onto the plastic back of the swing. He feels himself making impossible spaces between him and Hyojin, trying to make himself smaller in ways that are physically not probable. His hands slide off from their place under Hyojin’s, his heart speeding to some unseen extent, blush starting to form on his cheeks, he can feel his own face burning with the heat.
"Can I get a kiss from you?"
Seungjun sinks down. Deeper. His breath falls short. He feels like falling off the swing. A hand lands on his back, keeping him from falling upside down.
"You're falling," Hyojin tries to get Seungjun’s attention, knowing well from how heavy he breathes and the red on his cheeks that he's too dumbfounded to understand how he's falling from his back. He tries to put him back onto the swing, the back of Seungjun's body digging into his arms.
"I've fallen already." Seungjun whispers for Hyojin to hear, closing his eyes. His lips are parted open, waiting and waiting for something to shake the chest open.
Next thing he knows, the pair of lips are back on his.
He's passing out. He's losing his consciousness. It’s unpredictable. How could Hyojin make this so unpredictable?
It's different from the first time. There's a twist and a taste to it. There is a tongue caressing his, There is this sensation dancing against his chapped lips. There is this taste of blueberries and artificial sugar and Hyojin.
And Hyojin.
And Hyojin.
And Hyojin and hyojinandhyoji
Two hands cup his face firmly.
"Seugjunnie, look here,"
Oh, that's such a big request with the wasted boy on the swings. Too much from the little guy shaking and shivering under his own best friend's gentle touch. Too much from Seungjun with his eyes rolled back and limbs too heavy to move.
"Hmph,"
"Good god," Hyojin complains, "You'll kill me. That's for sure."
Seungjun thinks about that irony that he is the breathless one, hyperventilating like a dog, his chest rising and falling under Hyojin's weight with every inhale and exhale. His vision blacking out and—
"Should I stop?"
Seungjun's eyes pry open in a second. He drags Hyojin closer by collars, impossibly closer for the conditions that they're currently being put through, stuttering, Seungjun gasps between exhales, "No. fucking. Way,"
Hyojin laughs into his mouth, a gentle gesture that Seungjun can not take as anything other than affection, Seungjun tries to get all he can, trying to swallow the saliva that he doesn’t know how much of belongs to Hyojin before it’s all over again, but Hyojin pulls closer. Impossibly closer that Seungjun’s mind is too tired to phantom, his head is empty, it’s just a Hyojin that cards one hand through his hair and another hand that curls around his waist.
Seungjun grips the chains of the swing tighter, his knuckles turning white, the metal biting into his skin. He doesn’t care. He wants Hyojin’s teeth to bite into him next, wants to feel the sting of it, wants Hyojin to leave marks that will bruise purple and blue by morning.
Hyojin, sensing Seungjun’s eagerness, laughs into his mouth again, “Calm down, little boy,” he caresses his head and places a kiss at the corner of his mouth, “I swear I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hyojin,” Seungjun breathes out, the name cracking mid-syllable. His fingers twitch against the chains, torn between pulling Hyojin closer and pushing him away, because this is too much— the swing creaking under them, the river still singing for them. God, he wishes they were home.
“Yes?”
“What am I to you?”
Hyojin pulls away from Seungjun’s mouth and looks up into his eyes, his hands gently holding his porcelain face again, “Why the sudden question?”
“Answer me, please.” Seungjun responds, with a face caged between his Hyojin’s hands and fingers stuck to the chains, Hyojin’s breath so freshly heard by him like it has never been this close to his ears before, and Seungjun likes the sensation, a lot.
Hyojin smiles, then leaves another kiss, this time at the other corner of Seungjun’s mouth. As sweet as the long forgotten blueberry candy. “What do you want us to be?”
“Boyfriends.” Seungjun doesn’t even let a single second pass to answer. He has been waiting to say it out loud for weeks, he’s been dreaming of this exact moment so much that even his pillows know of it, even the blanket that hugs him at night is probably notified and his nightstand might think about it too sometimes.
This fact is probably also known by no other than his life long crush, Hyojin, who starts laughing like a madman.
“What?” Seungjun looks up, confused and lost, before his whole face is peppered in kisses by Hyojin. From his eyelashes to the back of his eyes, even the hollow part beneath them, his round cheeks, his chin, eyebrows, and the tip of his nose.
Seungjun stays still for a few seconds as Hyojin takes his time showering his lover in kisses, “My cute boyfriend,” Hyojin smiles softly before moving back to Seungjun’s lips, leaving one last sweet kiss on his lips. He pulls away completely after that, taking Seungjun’s hands and pulling him off the swing, his fingers intertwining with Seungjun’s cold ones. “We can be whatever you want, as long as you tell me that you want it.”
Seungjun watches their hands, his slim fingers tangled in Hyojin’s shorter ones, locked into one another as if the fingers too, have longed for this moment. He finally faces Hyojin with a shy smile, his cheeks surely a shade of red that he might not even know of. Seungjun watches as Hyojin mirrors his smile, his swollen lips turning into a warm smile that assures Seungjun that he is the only thing that matters here, in this park, in this damn city, and mayhaps the whole world.
And Seungjun may let himself believe it for once.
Just this once.