One&Only

He never thought it would feel like this: so good, so tender, so warm and wholesome. He never thought that four times wouldn’t be enough, that he would like to have more, that, one day he would be longing, craving for something that was meant to be a game, an accident, something that wasn’t supposed to happen at all – and, yet, it happened enough times for him to be willing to go further, to have it all, to give him the world and more.

Seungyoon never thought that he would love him so much to the point of giving him his heart and soul. To write songs for him alone, to sing about him, to do anything to get his attention, his care, a bit of his sun shining on him, keeping him warm, content. A smile that gleamed on the ocean of his feelings, the light guiding him, the only force he couldn’t avoid – Jinwoo was the moon, the sun and all the stars, the sky of Seungyoon’s life, the dream out of his heart.

Seungyoon recalls all the moments their lips met: in games, in pointless bets. Four times only – and he has become needy, greedy to have more. Even if Jinwoo doesn’t feel the same, just a brush of his lips will spark live again in Seungyoon’s eyes. Just to hold his hands, just to be next to him, that would be enough to heal the bleeding – a bandaid on his chest to stop his suffering, subside his pain.

Jinwoo is comfortable with kissing, he never walks out, he stays still, waiting for him to come, for his lips to smooch on him, to hold with his hands his hips. He never did the first move, he has never shown that, like Seungyoon, he wanted it, too. Because Seungyoon wants it badly, with desperation, with every piece of his soul.

Jinwoo doesn’t mind when Seungyoon is extra clingy, locking arms, hands holding, his head on his shoulders, his plumpy lips a breath away. He doesn’t flinch or shiver, he is stoic, unruffled, his heart on hold. Jinwoo is always there when he needs him, he always puts Seungyoon ahead of himself, always caring of him, always showering him with affection and tenderness and love.

Maybe he is waiting for Seungyoon to be bold enough, to be brave and to ask him out. Maybe Jinwoo only needs encouragement to open up. Maybe a world would be sufficient. Maybe a simple “I love you” would stir his chest with the same emotions that Seungyoon feels.

It’s late and Seungyoon isn’t thinking clearly. Jinwoo is still recording on the booth and his voice comes to fill the room beautifully. Clean, pure, innocent; it’s just like him – just perfect. He has to stay the last because he has to adjust their recordings to the music to create the song and Jinwoo knows it when he comes out of the recording room. He knows it and, yet, he sits next to him, watch over what Seungyoon is doing, his precious, constellated eyes following him, softs sighs escaping from his lips. Until he falls asleep on top of the desk, his hair scattered like a halo, light brown and silky, cascading from the top to his neck. It is appealing. Soft. Beautiful. He snores gently, his face nestled on his crossed arms, his back arched, sitting on the swirling chair. Seungyoon pitapats his fingertips on his flocks, brushing them tenderly, drawing circles on it, reassuringly, lovingly as well. And then, in a hurry, before losing the chance, his fingers are pressing his strawberry lips, half-opened in a breathe. It is cold and smooth and it tastes like fruits – it is sticky with gloss and lipstick., but he relishes into its flavour all the same.

It is just a soft, quick kiss on his forehead but Jinwoo’s eyes break open, lashes brushing his cheeks, pale shadows under the fireworks lit in his orbs.

“You are always giving, Seungyoonie,” he says, his voice like a fantasy, the gosht of his dreams and memories. Seungyoon looks at Jinwoo lost, confused. “You are always giving and I am always receiving,” he continues, “it’s not fair”. There is a glint of magic at the end of it, a spark of something that is making Seungyoon tremble in excitement. Jinwoo’s eyes are solely on him and they are different, they have switched from their usual form – they look sweeter now, lighter, inviting. And he is so, so close...

And he kisses so, so good... Seungyoon wants to die there, on Jinwoo’s lips, with his hands lazily tracing his nape, fingers tangling around his curls. He kisses so, so good, better than any of the accidental once. Much better because, this time, it has all the intentions, all the meaning, all the love described on the curb of the smile that is softly pressing against his cheeks, making him flush, making him shiver in delight.

“You are always giving, Seungyoonie, let me return some of your kindness to you,” Jinwoo says, low and sweetly over his ears. “Let me give you the moon and the sun to make up for all the days I hurt you,” he adds, palms on the intersection between his arms and shoulders, keeping him in, near him.

“But you are the moon and the sun and the stars. You are my everything, hyung,” he replies, breathing in, inhaling the worlds that come from Jinwoo, devouring them as they are the supply of his heart, the fuel that he needs to keep going.

“Then you have it all”.

It is tender the way his lips adjust to his, how he slides in between his fingers, how he pushes and pulls and gives up, gives in, just to start battling again, a war of skin against skin, of heart over heart, beating at the same pace, beating at the sound of each others’ name.

“You are my one and only,” Seungyoon breathes, Jinwoo cuddled inside his arms. “My everything,” he says, lips brushing away messy tresses out of his forehead. His eyes are catching up all the light coming from the outside, the sun showering his skin in gold and cream. Jinwoo reaches his arms to hold him, his hands on his cheeks.

“Cheesy,” he says on the tip of his mouth, letting Seungyoon drink his worlds, swallow them alive, just like him.

“You never said anything,” he pouts, complaining. Now that they are like this, now that kissing and touching and staring are allowed he feels the urge to know.

“You kissed me three times by accident. I was waiting for the four,” he says, shrugging as if nothing: as if the time in between wasn’t killing him as well. “Because you always do the first move, I was waiting for you,” he is looking straight into his heart, watching all that is buried inside his soul, all that there is in him and that has written his name.

“We kissed more than three times,” he corrects him, unconvinced.

“Does it matter or are you going to keep a record of all the times we will kiss from now on?”

Jinwoo laughs – and it reverberates like a bell, Seungyoon wants to add it to all his songs.

“Maybe?”

“I’m sure you are going to lose track in no time,” he smirks, lips already on Seungyoon. One, two, three, four... Seungyoon closes his eyes and just enjoys the taste of it. It is a torrent, Jinwoo an inch away before kissing him again and again, until Seungyoon isn’t sure of his own name. “See?” there is so much tease on his voice now. Seungyoon is dishevelled, his hair a mess, his lips swollen and red. “See?” he asks after another round of uncountable kisses. “You can not. And if you try to say different, I’ll prove you wrong.”

“Maybe I should?” now all the teasing is on Seungyoon.

“Don’t we have to come back home?” Jinwoo inquires, looking at the bright that comes from the window.

Seungyoon stirs, laying on the couch, Jinwoo tugged under him, all limp over him.

“But you are home,” his lips are pouty again, little marshmallows. Maybe it’s just unavoidable to kiss him, Seungyoon thinks, feeling Jinwoo on top of him.