The moment Kyungsoo saw Kim Jongin, he knew he would never get rid of that groundbreaking feeling that shook him to the core. That bubbly and warm feeling filled his entire body in a way he couldn’t explain. His brain, which had been asleep for way too long, came back to life with a tingling feeling.

As a painter, Kyungsoo depended too much on that sensation most people called inspiration, without it he knew his paintings lacked feeling, personality. He had been missing it to the point where his paintings didn’t bring him any happiness anymore. They felt empty.

One night, his best friend Yixing invited him to a ballet performance. Kyungsoo didn’t feel like it at first, ballet wasn’t his thing, but after he insisted Kyungsoo eventually gave in and tagged along with Yixing and his boyfriend.

At first, it was everything Kyungsoo thought it would be.

Until he saw him.

Even under the dim lights, Kyungsoo noticed the caramel skin contrasting with the white clothes he was wearing. The man danced not only with his body, but with his soul, and the way his face told the story for him was incredible. It took Kyungsoo’s breath away instantly.

By the time the performance was over, Kyungsoo knew he had to meet him.

Luckily, Yixing was friends with one choreographer, so they arranged for him to meet Jongin backstage.

He honestly didn’t know what he would say, but he had to see him. The rest of the dancers were packing their things and leaving. Jongin’s station was covered in flowers and he had the biggest smile Kyungsoo had ever seen in a person.

The choreographer called his name and introduced them. Everything Kyungsoo was already feeling just grew when Jongin’s eyes landed on him. He was pure perfection. Defined muscles, broad shoulders, deep and beautiful eyes, plump lips…

Perfect.

Kyungsoo shook his hand when the other offered, holding it for maybe longer than he should’ve. A wave of electricity ran up his arm, but he didn’t care. “Your performance was… out of this world.”

Jongin smiled, there was a certain spark in his eyes, which Kyungsoo couldn’t identify. They talked for a while and Kyungsoo offered to buy dinner, which Jongin accepted. The more time they spent together that night, the more Kyungsoo was certain that he had to paint him. There was no universe where he didn’t, it was meant to be. It was calling him.

Jongin was easygoing. He laughed a lot, running his hands through his hair, somehow making himself look better. He could blame the wine, but they both knew otherwise. He leaned over the table occasionally, whispering words for only Kyungsoo to hear.

He smelled like vanilla and wind, and Kyungsoo needed to paint him. His fingers were itching to.

So he asked.

And much to Kyungsoo’s surprise, Jongin said yes.

That’s how they ended up walking into Kyungsoo’s apartment at one in the morning, slightly tipsy and trying to hold in their laughter.

“You can sit on this couch,” Kyungsoo said as he dropped his things and went for his art supplies and other things. When he came back, he found Jongin looking around the living room attentively.

“Did you make these?” Jongin asked as he dropped his bag as well, pointing at the many paintings covering the walls. Kyungsoo nodded even when Jongin’s back was turned to him.

“Sit here,” Kyungsoo said again, and Jongin followed this time. He was tall and simply beautiful. Even inside his apartment, Jongin looked out of this world.

“Do you need me to pose or…?” Jongin giggled as he sat back on the couch.

“Just get comfortable,” Kyungsoo started his sketch, his eyes going back and forth between Jongin and the canvas. Every line had to be perfect. He took his time to capture in detail the essence of a being that was too good to be true. Kyungsoo’s eyes dragged down Jongin’s figure, inhaling whenever looking at him felt like too much.

Before he knew it, Kyungsoo fell into a deep trance as he worked. It had been a while since the last time he felt like this. His fingers felt alive, his brain was working full speed, his heart was racing.

When he looked up, Jongin was frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you bring me here just to make a portrait of me?” Jongin crossed his arms over his chest and Kyungsoo felt clueless.

“Huh?”

“Was that the only reason?”

“What other reason would there be?” Kyungsoo tilted his head slightly. They stared at each other for a moment, and that’s when Kyungsoo understood that playful sparkle in Jongin’s eyes. He ran out of words.

Jongin sighed, disappointed. “It’s whatever, I guess.”

Kyungsoo wanted to draw that look as well, he wanted to make infinite paintings of every single expression Jongin could have. He wanted to immortalize the playful look, the disappointed one. He also wanted to see him happy and sad and angry and confused. He wanted to see everything of him.

But not just to paint, but to see, to feel.

“Masterpieces aren’t supposed to be touched,” Kyungsoo said, barely above a whisper.

“I’m not a masterpiece.”

“You are in my eyes,” Kyungsoo’s mouth was dry. He wanted to touch him.

“What if we break that rule tonight, then?” Jongin gave him a beautiful half-smile that gained Kyungsoo’s undivided attention. He realized he wanted to kiss him too.

In a perfect world, Jongin would be his masterpiece.

His to touch and appreciate forever.

In a not-so-perfect world, he could still make the masterpiece his.

And he did.