They steal light kisses from one another between the flurried changing of stage costumes and the discordant sound of people rushing about backstage. It’s fast and unassuming, little more than a brush of lips on lips, but for Woohyun, it feels like an eternity – pale lights revolving around them, Sunggyu’s hand gripping softly at the base of his shirt and the feel of his waist pressed against his own arms.

They break apart, so soon after they started, and Sunggyu gives him this little smile. It’s secretive and intimate, but Woohyun knows. He does, and Sunggyu realises this too as Woohyun reaches up to brush his bottom lip gently, feather-light and tenderly. It creates a swell of happiness inside him, a warm glow that burns on for eons afterwards, and a luminous delight that lights his smile from the inside out.

It’s this kind of feeling that Sunggyu could live for.

Sometimes it’s Woohyun who gets the pleasure of experiencing this feeling; this irradiating warmth of bliss. It hits him at times he doesn’t expect it to; when Sunggyu does this little gesture with his hands as he explains something to Myungsoo and Woohyun is struck still. Stunned by how lucky he is, filled with admiration and awe for how beautiful and slender and graceful Sunggyu’s hands are.

And sometimes it happens when he hears Sunggyu sing. It doesn’t have to be on stage, it can even happen at times when they’re harmonising to the television ad jingle on the screen right now. Either way, it dawns on Woohyun, as he listens intently because it’s like Sunggyu is singing out his entire heart right now, like he was saying ‘I love music so so so so much I could die for it’, and that just makes Woohyun fall a little harder.

Woohyun is Sunggyu’s pillar, his support, his saving grace. It occurs at 3am in the morning when the practice and the shining lights and the smileactresponsibilitydancesinglookposerepeat gets a little too much and Sunggyu needs to break down. Woohyun is the only one who ever gets to see it happen; the only one who gets to see Sunggyu at his most vulnerable and most fragile. In his eyes, this only makes Sunggyu even more perfect. Sunggyu’s imperfections are what make him so beautiful, so cold and so kind, a voice like an angel and a smile like light, Woohyun thinks.

When Sunggyu complains to him about the bruises on his knees from falling to his knees one too many times for the Paradise choreography, Woohyun smiles and nods his head reassuringly, hand caressing the broken skin as Sunggyu unloads all the troubles that have built up inside him. He doesn’t say a word because he doesn’t need to, because he knows that Sunggyu just needs to talk.

And finally when Sunggyu has exhausted all his anxieties, and all his worries for his dongsaengs, his parents, his fans, his lover, and none for himself, Woohyun will lean over and whisper softly into his ear. It makes Sunggyu relax, a soft smile spreading across his face as Woohyun’s lips linger at his ear.

They look like pretty lilac galaxies, Woohyun whispers. Constellations for the scars, galaxies for the bruises on your knees, and supernovas exploding and showering across your eyes, and Sunggyu finds himself falling for him at the speed of light.

And sometimes it just gets all too sweet and all too good, and Woohyun will whisper and breathe hungrily, you’reperfectsoperfectIloveyousomuchIloveyou.

Sunggyu doesn’t like to admit it, because he has a complex about letting others seeing a weaker side to him, but he will murmur back just as harshly and just as real, and the need to reaffirm each other of their presences is just so physical and undeniable until they’re lost in a tangle of cold sheets and burning skin, bodies melding into one under the dim lights and still air.

“The stars are pretty.” Sunggyu whispers to him as they hold hands on the roof of their dorm afterwards, shivering in the evening chill. It’s cold, but it only gives them an excuse to hold hands even tighter. Woohyun gives him a sweet and longing smile at his comment, his unoccupied hand reaching up to tuck a strand of Sunggyu’s dyed hair behind his ear, fingers lingering softly at the baby-soft hair. He thinks the stars are pretty too, but the galaxies in Sunggyu’s eyes are breathtakingly gorgeous and so much more brilliant than the gem studded sky.

And as he makes his promises, imparting words of so sweet breath composed upon his beloved, the city stands a silent witness to the sacrificing of his mutable self; for love; his happiness; everything that is synonymous with his Sunggyu.

A/N: The line about the constellations and galaxies was quoted from a blog I read. It was just so romantic and sweet, I had to include it.