It’s three in the morning and Seunghyun can’t sleep. There’s nothing on his mind- his deadlines have been met, his family is safe and in good health, he’s been able to pay all his bills this month…

Thunder crashes gently outside. Usually thunderstorms relax Seunghyun and manage to lull him to sleep, even on his most restless days. Today, he’s having no such luck. He sighs and turns to his left side, hoping that the sudden change in position will convince his brain to relax.

The knock at the door startles him.

Reluctantly, he gets out of bed and crosses his apartment—rather slowly—and reaches the front door. He’s greeted by a soaked Jiyong.

“Hey,” Seunghyun croaks out. “What are you doing here? You’re going to catch a cold being out in this weather. Are those your pajamas?” A motherly sounding stream of questions and nagging flows out of his mouth as he pulls the slender blond boy inside his apartment. “It’s three in the morning,” he says. “Weather conditions aside, it’s not a safe time to be out roaming by yourself! You could have gotten hurt or mugged or-”

He’s stopped with a soft kiss from Jiyong. When they pull away, Jiyong is donning a -eating grin, but all he says is,

“Go back to bed.”

“Well what about you?” Seunghyun asks, allowing Jiyong to herd him back towards his bedroom. “You came all the way out here for what? To tell me to go to bed?” As Seunghyun lies back down, Jiyong helps pull the covers up to his chin.

“I need to write,” he laughs, “so I needed to be around you. I promise it will be exactly like I’m not here,” he says. He walks over to the other side of the bed, pulls an empty pad of paper from his messenger bag, and sits next to Seunghyun. Seunghyun stares at Jiyong, unsure whether he wants to yell at him for sitting on the bed with his soaking wet clothes, or if he wants to kiss him because Jiyong’s wet (and slightly see through) clothing is clinging to him in absolutely all the right places and his face is flushed from the chill of the rain. Seunghyun can’t manage to do either, so he sits and stares, with his mouth slightly agape.

“Go back to bed,” Jiyong says, laughing. He turns his attention to his notepad, and Seunghyun stares on, peeking through his mostly closed eyelids. He watches the way Jiyong writes and he could do it for hours and hours. It’s calming in a multitude of ways. When Jiyong is frustrated with words, it’s the cutest thing. He’ll heave a sigh and puff out his cheeks as he slowly lets the air seep out his lips. Sometimes he’ll frustratedly muss up his blond hair. Sometimes he rips out an entire page, crumples it into a very tight ball, and throw it on the floor with a lot more force than necessary. When the words are flowing to him, Jiyong’s eyes almost seem to glaze over. His hand is moving incredibly fast across the page, and his tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Sometimes he’ll pause to read over what he’s written and he’ll bob his head up and down, satisfied. Sometimes he looks up and off into the distance, squinting ever so slightly, before resuming his writing. Seunghyun’s favorite times, though, are when Jiyong pauses, his lips, and glances over at him. There’s a twitch of a smile at his lips before he turns back to his notepad writing more furiously than he had been before.

After what Seunghyun can only guess is an hour, Jiyong finishes his writing and tosses the notepad onto the floor. He lays on his side, pen still in hand, and looks at Seunghyun. His face is impossible to read, but his dark brown eyes seem to be boring straight into Seunghyun’s soul. Seunghyun can feel himself blushing, but he’s praying that Jiyong doesn’t notice, especially since he thinks Seunghyun has been asleep for the better part of an hour.

With slight hesitation, Jiyong reaches for Seunghyun’s hand and gently pulls it towards him. His touch is careful and soft, and it sends a slight chill down Seunghyun’s spine. Jiyong pulls the pen out from behind his ear and brushes a hand softly over Seunghyun’s arm before setting the cool pen tip down on his skin. Seunghyun isn’t at an angle where he can make out the words that are being inscribed on his skin, try as he might, so instead he decides to actually close his eyes and just concentrate on the movement of the pen across his arm. He tries to guess at the characters, but he isn’t familiar enough with the way Jiyong writes to know for sure. Instead, he concentrates on the feeling. The pen tip is sliding smoothly across his skin, and the pressure is so slight, he can barely feel it. Occasionally, he can feel the heat of Jiyong’s breath play across his arm, once or twice, he thinks he feels Jiyong’s lips. Regardless, there’s a sort of fluid tempo to all that’s happening, and before Seugnhyun can stop himself, he’s fallen asleep.

In the morning, Jiyong is already gone. And though Seunghyun can’t honestly say he’s surprised, he’s a little saddened by that fact. Just once, he’d like to wake up and not be alone. In a bit of an unnecessarily sour mood, he rolls out of bed and slumps off toward the kitchen.

He walks to his coffee pot, surprised to see that it’s already filled with warm, ready coffee. Seunghyun’s face breaks into a grin before he even notices the sticky note drenched in ‘xoxoxo’s’ by the side of the coffee maker.

As he’s pouring his coffee, he notices the markings covering his arm from his fingertips practically up to his shoulders. He’d fallen asleep before Jiyong had finished one arm, but apparently he’d stayed around to write on the other one as well. He twists his arms around trying his best to read what’s written all over him. There are a few short poems, but there’s one phrase that’s written over and over again on Seunghyun’s arms. It’s in-between stanzas of other poems, hiding in the crook of his arm and laced between his fingers:

Sometimes I think I was made for this. Sometimes I think I was made for you.

Jiyong’s writing has always moved Seunghyun—obvious reasons aside—but there’s something about those two sentences in particular that make his head spin and his heart drown in some sort of emotion he’s not entirely familiar with. He feels warm all over and he’s happy. He’s happy that he could inspire Jiyong to write something like that about him. He’s flattered. He’s scared.

Still in a daze, he walks to his desk and grabs a piece of paper, transcribing what he can read off of his arms onto the paper.  

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(A/N: Yayy I'm on time!! I actually have another chapter prepared, but idk if I'll post it yet... It depends. Would you guys mind time skips? Like, if I went from day 70 to day 200 to day 52 or whatever? Anyway, its on hold for now, but if you guys don't mind the time skips I can have it up by tomorrow or Monday... *wriggles eyebrows suggestively*)