Work Text:
It is quite dangerous to know someone so personally and intimately.
Hyunjin does not want that, not really.
It is unhealthy to want that to happen to you in real life, but he does love the fantasy of it.
He was young and so, so small when he started to believe that it is possible to believe that other people would act like one organism and that there is no other choice for it.
They are idols, after all.
The very few first years of having this job is, to live in a small box with several other people, and Hyunjin wants other people to try that life and not to choke; it is impossible.
You have to start move like 7 other people, think like that, eat like them; they are now your lifeline.
If he really thinks about it, Stray Kids now run through his veins.
There does He begin and where does Stray Kids end? Stupid question to ask, especially years after everything.
He watches the others sometimes and wonders if they can read his mind like he can read theirs sometimes.
There is the tapping of fingers, the nose crunch that signals something else entirely, that one look that Chan and Minho can do and every other kid starts to sit up straight if they do.
And then there is that glint in Seungmin’s eyes when he wants to be put in his place and Jisung’s pout when no one gives him attention and Felix’s smile he always does when he is too tired and Hyunjin thinks he is a lost cause because he is so easy to read sometimes when he is in the room with Changbin.
He can feel Jeongin’s eyes on him when they are together.
It is quite cliché, but he looks at him like a fox looks at small animals that are trapped; foxes are always so greedy and hungry and love to gloat.
They do act as one person after all; sometimes he wonders how strong that sentiment is; do they love Changbin as much as he does?
He doubts it entirely.
Of course, he believes they love each other dearly, almost thoroughly, perhaps even like romance describes it in their books.
But none of them love Changbin like he does. They know it too, truly.
It is different this love and yet so similar that he fears to show it.
He fears to show it even if he believes in it; it would eat them both alive.
And then the public would collect the rest, the scraps that landed on the floor, and laugh at it all.
Hyunjin glances at Changbin and tries to follow his lead as best as he can.
Changbin rarely gives up on him, not until Hyunjin says it is enough.
And he barely stops either; it is about their life and their future after all, if they debut or not.
He would still bring him water and food and get him to get out to shop and so many other dates.
Of course, they would take some other trainees with them, Seungming or often times Jeongin or Felix, just to show them the city.
More often than not, they would go alone, together.
Hyunjin remembers these memories the most.
He wonders, almost maniacally, which of those memories have the answer the question that plagues him.
Love, for most people, does not come easily.
Not for him, not really. It came as easily as breathing — he falls for someone’s walk, for someone’s smile or little kindness like some guy who helps an old woman with her groceries.
He falls with how people love one another. Hyunjin is easy like that when it comes to love. He simply loves to love.
Minho always calls him naïve and someone he has to protect for a reason, he thinks.
He hears everything they say about him, and this one sticks out the most: that Hwang Hyunjin needs to be protected.
Put into a soft blanket and cuddled like he is a small little deer with the softest fur and the most sweet flesh and most importantly, a small little heart that anyone could take and rip out of his chest and eat all of it in one small bite.
He has such a big and lithe body; stretched limbs and long neck, and is compared to an animal that feeds off hunts and running after others — and yet Hyunjin is made different.
He truly is, if anyone he holds close wants to protect him.
“Will you protect me from Changbin-Hyung too then?”
Minho blinks and turns to him, his brows high up, “What do you mean?”
“You once told me that you want to protect me, is what I mean ... from Changbin too?”
Minho does not say anything for a second.
Does not even mention how disrespectful he has been a second ago, staring at him like he has grown three other heads and all of them are screaming.
“From Changbin? Why should I?” He snorts and looks back to the mirror in front of this room.
They have been here for hours, practicing every new move. Hyunjin has stayed behind, not wanting to leave until he has everything down perfectly.
Minho has been here, too. He does not want to think why, and maybe this is why that sentence slipped out of his mouth, forbidden and sticking to his mouth for too long.
“That kid is worse than me when it comes to you. Sometimes I think he would jump into the ocean if it means you would be safe.”
This time it’s Hyunjin who lets a snort out, sniffs as he tries to hide it; it’s not really what his image is.
Minho does not even care; he doesn’t even care when the cameras are rolling, not really, not the most important parts.
“He would do it for anyone, really. Anyone he holds dear.”
They are silent for a moment, and Hyunjin slides down the wall, leaning his matted hair against the cold wall.
It’s true, isn’t it? Changbin may flirt with him more than the others, no matter if the cameras are rolling or not, but the fact remains that they are just … friends.
Nothing more to it.
He probably does not even like men if Hyunjin is honest with himself.
“Hyunjin-ah.”
He blinks and turns to look at Minho, who stands in front of him, a cold water bottle in his hands.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Hyunjin tries to not think much of it.
And then the kiss happens; and it is like every little cell in his body, everything that makes him life implodes into a million pieces.
The dam breaks and washes those pieces away.
And what stays is pure, unfiltered, filthy desire that he has kept hidden for years.
The thing is, he always knew he liked boys. It is not a grand discovery; he likes fruits, he likes art, and he likes to look at pretty people, but only boys would intrigue him, would make him want to shy away and giggle.
Only then would his heart beat like a hummingbird.
He wonders how he would live if he wasn’t an idol, most of the time of his life.
How different it would have been to walk around, maybe talk with others, to go to college and study what he loves more deeply and, most of all, to love freely.
Sometimes he lays awake at night and wonders how it would be like to be on a date with someone he can actually like; some guy, he thinks, of smaller build and with thick glasses and curly hair — he would love it all the same.
He would choose him all the same.
How would Changbin be in a unique setting? How would they meet each other, know the other exist?
It is futile, after all.
Hyunjin would choose this life all the same, he might scream and cry and wish for more, but he would not dare to look away.
He loves to think that whatever happens, they would be together.
What if Hyunjin would prolong his football path? He is sure he would meet Changbin somehow there as well.
Always there with him.
He does not remember if it was his hand that dragged them into the empty stall. Or if it was his. Or maybe both of them became desperate to hide in some dark corner to finally be home again.
“Please, please — ah, yes, please —” he ends every whisper like a prayer, wishes he could worship Changbin like it is proper, on his knees, yes, oh yes, his mouth is so empty and it makes his stomach fill with dread.
He needs it, is the thing. Needs proof that it is real, that he finally got what he always wanted. In any shape, in any fucking variable, he would try to archive it.
If he cannot scream it, he would taste it, feel it on his skin, see it with his eyes.
This love that they created it.
It is a wonderful question, really, and something that he wonders every other day when he is alone with his thoughts.
When did it start? This need.
Was it when he first lingered his gaze on Seo Changbin, the poster boy, the good trainee? Or was it when the perfect trainee bought him ice cream and apologised every chance he could, after he made Hyunjin cry? Or their very first date?
He does not really remember when it started to fester on his organs and grow with every breath, with every laugh he shared with him.
He just knows that he was the one who tipped the scale and that Changbin made sure the scale would fall.
Chan and Jisung were out when it happened, he remembers that so clearly, and Hyunjin was watching one of his dramas that were currently airing.
And Changbin came in just in time for the kiss to be interrupted by the door opening and throwing Hyunjin out of his headspace as he whipped his head towards the noise, the kiss, the characters the horribly heart wrenching plot in the gutter when he sees him.
Changbin smiles, his face lighting up with it. It takes his entire face over when he does it is so beautiful.
“Hyunjin- ah! Sorry that it took so long, Hyung and Jinsungie will be out for a bit longer though,” he purses his lips and puts the slippers on, his slippers, the one Hyunjin bought for him.
He remembers it so well; being out with him and pondering over which colour would suit him best. And when asked, Changbin turned his face to him and turned all soft, his sharp eyes suddenly made of melting wax.
He told him he can choose for him and Hyunjin chose the soft pink ones. Changbin did not buy new ones ever since that day.
He blinks and scolds him with all his mind in his heart, shaking his head as he turns back to the TV.
“You ruined it and now I have to rewind all the way back, Hyung.” He tsk’s and his shoulders hunch down, the taste on his tongue bitter.
Changbin laughs instead and turns to his room, probably to change the clothes.
And Hyunjin holds the remote tight in his hands, waiting for Changbin to sit down next to him.
“Did you eat?” Changbin smacks his lips, and before he could even tell him the answer, the clear “No,” that is stuck in his throat, Hyunjin holds his phone in his hands, steady and ready to order.
“Well?” He raises his eyebrows up, his smirk turning mean, “What ya wanna order? I won’t even tell our manager.”
Changbin laughs and goes for his typical order whenever he comes back from a rather long session with his boys.
Hyunjin’s eye twitch. No, not his boys. His… his best friends, his two guys he works with constantly.
Not his boys. Who is he kidding, really.
He breathes and orders some chicken for himself as well.
“Wanna watch the drama with me?” Changbin hums and sits down next to him after dressing in his jumper and a shirt. He puts a bottle of Soju on the table, and Hyunjin nods, not minding to join in.
“Ah, but I do not know all the plot, Jinnie.”
Hyunjin sighs, as if it is the most horrible thing to explain all the other episodes he watched before he came home, and not something he loves to do. To talk and talk and explain and be heard.
To be loved.
“Or we can just watch it all over from the beginning — we might be alone today, I think Jisung and Chan will be there for a bit longer.”
Ah, Hyunjin thinks. They have one of their deeper chats together, coated in a composing session.
Hyunjin shrugs and clicks to the first episode.
“Was today good?”
Changbin hums again, his shoulders rolling, “Yeah, yeah, it was. I think… I just think that Channie-Hyung and Jisung have to talk a bit more than usual, is all.”
Hyunjin bites his lip and nods.
Chan always found Jisung to be his sensitive spot, and truly they all are, but Han Jisung is rooted to deep, dug first into his heartstrings and now fuels his blood.
He turns Chan’s blood an even deeper shade, a prettier shade.
“Alright,” he nods, and they continue to watch the TV.
The ringing of the doorbell makes them both jump, and Hyunjin moves to the door first, getting the food for them both.
By the second episode, they start to eat on the floor, stretching their legs more. And a second Soju bottle was underneath the table.
And they talk. Obviously, they do for many, many hours as the episodes blur into the background, noises that Hyunjin finds smooth his brain.
They talk so much, like they always do, and Hyunjin laughs just as much as he always does whenever Changbin is around.
It is most freeing with him, he thinks.
Most beautifully.
And soon, a few hours in, past midnight with the streetlamps lightening up the room alongside the bright TV screen, they arrive back to the episode where the main couple are about to share their first kiss.
Hyunjin sighs, the empty plate on the table smudged with grease and sauce, catching the light of the screen, red and white and blue.
They kiss on this big screen, these two pretty actors playing a desperate attempt to reach for each other’s love and Changbin is just as silent as Hyunjin when it happens.
“I wonder how that feels.”
“What?”
“To kiss like that.”
Normally, in these Korean Dramas the kiss is less desperate, less intense.
More so, a peck, a press on lips.
This, right here, is different, and Hyunjin longs as he always does.
Changbin clicks his lips together, his eyes on the screen.
“You want to kiss just like that?”
Hyunjin hums, giggling after several seconds of silence went by.
And then, there was a hand on his neck, holding him.
He didn’t even register the sound of the door opening when Changbin’s lips land on his.
Dance practice that day was making every end of his limbs feel heavy.
In his line of sight, Changbin laughed at something Felix said, petting his arms and laughing even louder. Hyunjin thinks it is lovely. He wanted to leave more than ever.
He sat down and tried to catch his breath when another body slumped down next to him, just as out of breath as he was.
“You good?” Jeongin tried to ask, but it came out all stuck up, his throat making the words all wrong.
Hyunjin nodded anyway. He understood where he came from, of course.
Jeongin followed his gaze after all and watched along. Only then did he realise what he was doing.
He turned to the youngest and bumped his shoulder with his, telling him to get up and move again.
Less he stared too long and started to understand what Hyunjin was doing.
Less he would expose himself to the knowing eyes.
Changbin’s lips were on his for less than a minute before he turned away from him, to the open door and to the two guys stepping inside.
Jisung and Chan were still talking, barely looking at them when they stepped inside. Changbin was still holding his neck, he was still holding him, close,closer to his chest.
“Ah! What are you two doing here, huh?” Jisung’s voice was loud then, breaking something inside. The TV was still running. The characters were talking about something now. Perhaps they are argueing about the kiss now.
Perhaps, perhaps.
“Jisung-ah, be quiet! Is Hyunjinie asleep, Changbinie?”
Chan was always so considerate, and Hyunjin, for the first time, hated him for it. His heart could not stop beating.
Changbin, on the other hand, did not release him from his hand, keeping him to his chest, hidden from peeking glances.
And then he started to let go, and Hyunjin’s feet started to hurt.
He did the only reasonable thing and clung to his chest, not — he did not want to look at other eyes, he did not want to see anything.
His ears could hear the speed up rhythm of Changbin’s heart, his chest a comforting warmth.
And Changbin, it seemed, noticed it all as he brought the hand back to his neck to hold him steady.
“Yeah, he fell asleep on me. I am gonna get him to bed in a minute, yeah? Keep it quiet.”
It started to spread. THey would kiss anywhere. Anywhere we people would not look, where they could share their breathe and spit and even moan.
“Stop, wait —”
Hyunjin does not want to wait. The moment they arrived back, his leg tapping against the floor, he knew he would not be able to wait.
He was born hungry and Changbin makes it go away , he makes him feel whole.
So when he presses Changbin against the locked door and kisses him without an ounce of fear, it is like coming back home; the soft of his lips is so inviting.
An addicting feeling and he can’t get enough.
And then Changbin whimpers into his mouth and Hyunjin almost cries out, his hands holding him against the hardwood, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, as hard as he ever could, until he is sure he will leave marks on his skin.
“Sorry, sorry…” he whimpers and presses his pelvis against Changbin, licking into his mouth to swallow his next gasp, the moan, lower than his,it vibrates in his chest.
“Sorry, I can’t…. sorry….”
I can’t stop, I can’t stop this.
Maybe he wants too much, maybe he will never be satisfied.
Changbin stops him from thinking more about him, about himself like this by lowering his hand and pressing it against the bulge in his jogging pants.
He can look down on him, can see every little expression that goes through his face.
Changbin holds him then, presses his face against his shoulder and then —- and then, and then, and then —- guides him gently, his hand on his hips as he presses his thick thigh, god his nicely built strong muscled tigh in between Hyunjin’s legs.
He whimpers, pants against Changbin’s naked skin. He is sure spit drops on the other’s heated skin.
For he is out of control; his body dripping, his spit and his underwear are damp and too tight as he begins to
“That’s it, yeah that’s it, that’s’ it,” Hyunjin cries, drools, everything is so hot, and he knows, he knows that Changbin can make it okay, he can make it all so much better.
“Please, please… please, mo — more,”
Changbin smiles at him and nods, he mumbles something maybe, something like a yeah or everything you want but Hyunjin does not hear him, not when his hands grab him and control the movement of his hips so perfectly, forcing him to roll his hips just right.
So it happened when they were moving in together; well, not really, just before that, before they decided to do it.
“You know,” he starts and already regrets opening his mouth, “I always thought you were straight.”
Changbin blinks and puts his cap on, looking at the watch, “Really now?”
They are silent for a moment before Changbin giggles, this high and breathy sound Hyunjin loves.
He joins him, as it is always what happens; he can’t help it, not really. When he hears Changbin laughs he always wants to know why, and it always ends up with him laughing with him.
It is always fun with him.
So why is he ruining it?
“Yeah! I don’t know, I just thought, you know — you are like the odd one out.”
Changbin stops laughing then, his brows high up, his small full lips open, as if he is ready to ask that is probably burning his tongue.
“But I was wrong, obviously. I mean, after you kissed me that one time, I just … I mean, yeah… right?”
Changbin turns to his sneakers.
“I mean,” Changbin shrugs, his shoulders rolling a few times. He probably tries to find the right words for the things Hyunjin is throwing at him, and Hyunjin does not blame him, “It is not like I always knew I was attracted to guys. For the longest time, I thought I was just what every other guy is like,” he turns to the door. Hyunjin wants to see his face.
For some reason, he wants to apologise.
“I think that loving you came so naturally to me, I didn’t even think about my sexuality and what it means for me.”
And then he opens the door and reminds him that they are late for practice.
They do not really talk about it when they come back. They order food again. They watch TV and do not talk for a long time and Hyunjin can not stop it anymore.
He loves the silence but not when it suffocates him, makes it difficult to breathe.
“I am sorry,” he says and Changbin blinks and turns to him, his eyes bigm cheeks puffed up from the food in his mouth. He looks so adorable and Hyunjin is a wreck because of it.
He says nothing for a while and it turns Hyunjin's stomache into a pit. One could throw a large stone and never hear it land. Then Changbin grunts and swallows his food,“For what?”
“For... you know, being an ass this morning. I didn't mean anything by it.”
“Ah,” he licks his lips. Hyunjin follows the movement; he is a pervert, maybe, " Honestly, it is fine, Hyunjin-ah. You didn't mean anything by it. I was offended at first but you didn't mean anything by it, right?"
Hyunjin shakes his head because he would never, he would never. Sometimes he thinks his mouth acquired too many filters and when it is too loose he spits too much nonsense.
He says sorry a few more times that night and Changbin kisses him silent, screaming at him to stop and enjoy the show they are watching.
Jisung brings him to some empty room, looks around too.
He makes sure they are alone and Hyunjin is flattered and spooked at the same time.
A very weird combination of emotions and yet it is Han Jisung who can bring something like this out of him.
“ Okay, so I gotta talk to you. Like it is actually serious, okay?”
Hyunjin purses his lips and nods, “ Uh… yeah, okay…?”
“ You aren’t very, er…” Hyunjin blinks. He doesn’t understand what is going on.
“ You aren’t very good at hiding it,” Jisung nods as if he said something smart. Hyunjin thinks there must be a hidden camera somewhere and he is not aware of it, “ Hiding what?”
Jisung is the one who blinks this time and then he curses, “ Oh, okay, yeah fuck, maybe I should start with that, huh.”
Hyunjin leans against the wall and nods, wanting to hear what he has to say really.
“ So like, uhm, I saw… you two? You and Changbin-hyung,” Hyunjin gasped, audibly loud and stands up straight, looking at Jisung like he just slapped him several times across the face; his cheeks are so red and his teeth hurt; so it feels like he did.
“ What are you even talking about.”
Jisung bites his lips and shakes his head, “ Please, I saw you two, you weren’t even …. Fuck, Hyunjin, why are you two making out in some practice room? With your hands in his pants, at this point it’s like you want someone to find out!”
Hyunjin’s hands hurt. His nails could draw blood if he is not careful enough and he does not want to alarm Changbin, next time he sees him.
His hand hurt, his head is exploding if he is honest and he does not want to hear anymore of this.
He turns around and moves to open the door, but a hand on his shoulder stops him and for some absurd reason he thinks how small Jisung is at first, his head barely reaching his shoulders when Hyunjin stands up straight.
“ Do not walk away, man. This is serious. You probably have to talk about this with the others and —”
He slaps the hand away. This is stupid; everything about this. He thinks his lungs might collapse.
“ Why do I have to talk about this with the others? Why do you have to know everything?”
Jisung jumps away from him and only then does Hyunjin realises that he shouted.
“ Because our fucking career is on the line, man.”
“ So you and Minho can fucking on every fucking surface and we can’t?”
It could be a hobby of his when he is not careful; hurting others like this.
“ The difference between us and you two is that we are good at hiding it, you stupid fuck! Man do you two even think what you are doing?”
He does not want to hear anymore of this. It is so stupid, so fucking stupid.
“ Man you don’t even have to do anything! Sometimes he just have to look at you and it’s like, there is this sparkle in his eyes as if he has written the best verse ever.”
Hyunjin does not want to hear more.
Jisung calls after him as Hyunjin opens the door and runs.
Jisung tried to be kind when he asked him. When he told him that he saw everything once and they should try to be more discreet.
It still made Hyunjin run away.
He can’t breathe. He can’t, his lungs are too tight, there is not enough air, he is too much, there so much he wants to do, what else can he do? What else, what else, what else —
“Hyunjinie? Hey…. hey, hey, hey,” Changbin finds him here in this bathroom.
Of course, he does, who else would run after him like a dog who wants his owner to tug on his leash?
No, no, this is wrong. They all care about him.
They do.
Yet they all know that Changbin is the one who gets Hyunjin to talk.
Traitors.
“Go away,” he gasps these words. Saying them hurts, and the effort makes the air in his lungs burst until nothing is left.
“Hey, hey…. I, —”
“I said go away! Are you this dumb to not hear me properly? Are you deaf? For a musician, that is quite inconvenient!”
Changbin does not say another word, does not even move more than a step.
Hyunjin swallows, stares at him for several seconds.
And then he leans his head against the wall behind him, the cold teal soothing.
“Can I move closer to you?”
He is so gentle with him. Like a warm blanket in the middle of a snowstorm.
Hyunjin thinks he could not live without him.
If Changbin forgets Hyunjin ever existed, he would make sure he’d remember him again.
He would make sure he would remember him in this life and the next and in the very first.
“I think Jisung knows.”
Changbin sits down next to him.
“Here, drink.” A water bottle is in front of him. It is still cold to the touch, and he mumbles his thanks, drinking his full.
Something sways in his body, it trickles up his veins and leaves through his veins.
“Can I…?” Hyunjin licks his lips and nods before he can feel the warm touch of the other’s hand on his.
It is a privilege, he thinks vaguely, to share warmth through each other’s skin.
It is a privilege to feel like real lovers do.
Changbin’s thumb traces his hand, the visible blue veins.
“You worked out, mhm?”
Hyunjin bites his lips and is not ready to use words to articulate what is swirling in his heart, in those chambers of heated turmoil.
So he nods instead, and Changbin looks at him.
He never stops, that is. Looking at him.
With those eyes that barely keep it away.
How did Jisung put it? His eyes sparkle whenever he made that one good beat or a verse so good he wouldn’t stop talking about it for days.
To Changbin, Hyunjin is a song he never stops writing.
“I think I love you,” Hyunjin whispers, his voice hoarse and still not ready to be used, “I don’t think I can stop.”
He does not ever want to stop. Hyunjin is not sure he could. It would kill him.
And Changbin does not say anything for a time, simply lets his gaze stay at Hyunjin, and there is that sparkle again.
It intensives.
Perhaps Hyunjin gave Changbin a new melody.
“Then do not stop.”
“I don’t know if I can do this, honestly.”
Changbin stops his fingers and Hyunjin smacks him lightly, so Changbin laughs and continues to pet his hair.
“What exactly?”
“Love you like you are a secret.”
Changbin continues to play with his hair as they watch the open windows; the nightlife in Seoul being as loud as it has always been.
“Then… maybe don’t.”
The hand stop not stop to show him kindness, and Hyunjin does not hear him for a moment because of that.
And then it clicks. And Hyunjin thinks that Changbin never takes anything seriously.
He says just as much and Changbin, just as predicted, snorted.
“I am not saying to scream it outright — just give clues. It is alright.”
Hyunjin does not understand what he means by that.
“How would that be possible? How can I say I love you and then joke about it? Do you even know me?”
He doesn’t want to fight; he hates to fight with Changbin, with any of them really.
And yet he cannot help but go in teeth first with anything he does; and especially love deserves to be treated like it is holy.
And isn’t that his whole thing? Isn’t that why people love him?
Where does he begin, really, and where does the persona tell him to end?
It has been so long that he is not sure there is a goal in mind.
“I just mean, Hyunjin- ah, there is no other way but this.”
Hyunjin knows. He hates it with all his mind.
He calls him his wife on national television the very next day.
Changbin fucked him against the door when they returned home, saying how this wife should take care of his daring husband.
Through the aftershocks, his lips trace Changbin's face as they lay on the floor, barely moving.
" Wife," he starts and Changbin hums, opening his eyes. They still sparkle, " I am your wife too, baby. You are taking care of your wife."
He is so glad Changbin works out reguarly; their sex life improved so much from it.
Chan and Jisung went to bed after their had their weekly come together and Hyunjin and Changbin were chosen to clean the kitchen.
They never really confessed their feelings. Hyunjin wouldn’t know how to do it without shedding tears, so he never did, at first.
But he remembers one thing, one thing that resembles a confession of love.
It is in the eyes, you see.
Changbin has to look at him once and understand what is going on with him, to stand next to him, to let him hold him, grab him and move his body so that Hyunjin can calm this energy inside him down.
“ You want water or something else, Hyunjinie?” He would sometimes ask, and Hyunjin would look at him with this plain look on his face, and Changbin would read an entire story before standing up and getting him exactly the things he wanted — without even truly knowing.
Maybe they was never a need to confess his love for him; Hyunjin loves to tell himself lies sometimes, so that his heart can accept hurtful realities and escape them as quickly as possible.
Sometimes, not always.
Sometimes people make him confront him reality.
He never really likes that.
Who likes being hurt? Who likes it when others take your hand and put it on a heated stove, listening to the skin sizzle and enjoying the burning smell of it?
They made it to the bed after a good shower. They both hate the flacky feeling of cum on their skin.
“Are you asleep?”
Changbin hums and turns. Hyunjin can see his smile in the dark, that small curve that goes up only a little; it makes his bunny face look even more adorable.
“Obviously.”
Hyunjin giggles, covers it with both of his hands.
He shakes his head — he told Changbin to stop making jokes. Hyunjin will always laugh until tears slide down his face.
He snorts next to him, and Hyunjin shuffles closer, his knees touching Changbin’s, and it is almost beautiful how he can just do that, here in the dark, for no one else to know.
No one else to see, no cameras rolling, nothing but Changbin next to him and his smile that shines through everything.
“Obviously,” Hyunjin repeats, and Changbin opens his eyes.
It is amazing, really. How he reads in poetry, in so many songs and words about eyes and shining and how they show you one’s soul.
And how true most love’ songs are, there, right here, next to him, is the shining proof.
Changbin’s eyes are as soft as the first flower after the snow melts and spring returns, the first sign of the morning sun, soft and oh so gentle on your skin.
“Can you say it to me? Just this once,” Changbin hums again, and Hyunjin thinks that he is a very bad liar when it comes to this man.
He wants to hear it every day. Wants to hear it when he wakes up; when the cameras are rolling.
He wants these honest words forever.
“You want to hear me say ‘ I love you’ at 3 am? Right before we have.. —”
“Yes.”
They look at each other, and Changbin’s hand holds his, and it is so perfect and something that belongs solely to them and no one else.
No one else.
Changbin’s face is so much closer to his all of a sudden and Hyunjin blinks and can feel Changbin’s cheek with his lashes when he blinks.
“I love you,” he says and kisses his lips, chaste and sweet, and the faint smell of something akin to mint hits his mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers again and adjusts his face to kiss his cheek, both of them and Hyunjin blink again so he can see Changbin through his tears.
“I love you, I love you, I love …” he leaves traces so Hyunjin might never forget.
Won’t crave them in the morning, maybe, Hyunjin is not sure.
And yet he knows that it will have the opposite effect.
He only wants more, and more and more. His heart beats, louder against his flesh and his bones than ever before.
“I love you,” he gasps again and bites his throat, right in front.
Hyunjin holds him there.