Myungsoo is as fascinated with Dongwoo’s legs as Dongwoo himself. It’s strange because Myungsoo has legs, has had them all his life, so Dongwoo isn’t sure what exactly is so fascinating to him. He doesn’t question it though, not when Myungsoo uses his camera (a camera!) to take angled shots that emphasize his legs and definitely not when Myungsoo’s hands settle on his thighs, running up his legs almost absently until his hands settle at his waist.

It feels nice, like nothing he’s ever felt before. Dongwoo wonders what it’d feel like to have Myungsoo’s palm against the skin of his thighs without the fabric of his pants (pants!) in the way. If he could speak he would have asked Myungsoo to do that.

Being human is equal parts frustrating and wonderful, being able to walk and run (not quite able to jump and dance yet) but being unable to so much as laugh out loud. He doesn’t think he got a bad deal; the reality is that nothing comes for free on land or underwater.

Dongwoo spells his name out on Myungsoo’s hand and hearing it spoken in his voice is almost good enough that it doesn’t matter.




He trips and stumbles less as time passes. At first it was every five steps or so, because he didn’t know how to balance himself and because it hurt to walk initially. It hurt the way it hurts to walk on broken glass, which he now knows because he’s walking on broken glass. Dongwoo can’t make even a peep at the familiar pain but somehow Myungsoo is there, quickly by his side.

It hurts as Myungsoo carefully removes the glass shards from the bottom of his feet but he’s gentle and he cradles Dongwoo’s ankle with one hand.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is quiet and concerned, his face coloured with worry. Dongwoo smiles and nods, trying to reassure as much as he can without words. Every time Myungsoo glances up as he cleans and bandages the cuts Dongwoo is smiling. As he finishes he presses his hands to Dongwoo’s knees lightly.

“You need to be more careful.”

As if you should speak, you’re clumsier, is what Dongwoo would say if he could. Because Myungsoo trips as often as Dongwoo does and when he falls they tend to both fall, Myungsoo pulling Dongwoo down with him.  He wouldn't complain even if he could though. He likes it, stumbling together, Myungsoo laughing quietly and awkwardly as they pull themselves back up.

He can’t say anything so Dongwoo just squishes Myungsoo’s face with his hands and leans in to touch their foreheads together.




He forgets everything when Myungsoo’s hand runs up the inside of his thigh, the palm of his hand to Dongwoo’s skin. For a moment he thinks something inside him is actually simmering. He can’t make a sound but when they are glued together, skin warm and damp, he barely cares. Myungsoo’s hands aren’t just on his legs anymore, his fingers curl and scratch at Dongwoo’s stomach, his thumb traces the arch of Dongwoo’s collarbone. Likewise Dongwoo’s hands are on Myungsoo, sliding down his back, groping his before settling at the back of his thighs and he pulls at Myungsoo so that they’re pressed more firmly together.

Being human is frustrating and wonderful but being with Myungsoo is just wonderful. Right now he doesn’t need any words.