sehun doesn't know how they ended up like this. he doesn't know how the distance between him and his roommate disintegrated into thin, intimate air and mere flecks of dust. but it doesn't matter. not when he can clearly see the moles that dot the elder's neck and heaving chest. not when he can see the vein in his forehead pulsing. jongdae's nervous. but sehun's nervous too. he can't quite exactly remember what caused him to feel so scared, so terrified, to meet jongdae's eyes, or how he felt when he saw the exact same emotions reflected in the elder's fleeting gaze. no, he doesn't want to be reminded of the way that jongdae's lips fit so perfectly with his or how they both still guard themselves as their mouths touch. it's soft but timid, they're still testing the waters, ready to break apart in a moment's notice. they were both used to short-lived romances and casual flings. they both had carefully built intricate fortresses around their hearts to keep out unwanted boys, or "knights in dull armor" as jongdae referred to them, who could possibly play them out of their love. boys who would make them laugh. whose idea of love was that of pure conquest. like a game to be played. like a prize to be won. sunny boys who would be reason why sehun cried throughout the night with tears spilling over his pillowcase, staining his cheeks. but jongdae wasn't like those boys. jongdae lived in unrealistic daydreams. jongdae liked to think that he could walk on clouds and bounce off of dandelions, and be one with the wind. okay, maybe that's weird, but jongdae's that kind of weird that sehun thinks is actually normal. 

they were friends at first (isn't that the way any relationship starts?). and sehun never questioned the elder whenever he stumbled drunkenly through their apartment late at night, exchanging hungry kisses and wanton moans with complete strangers. he wouldn't ask when they would mysteriously disappear the next morning, leaving him alone to nurse jongdae out of his hangover. it wasn't any of his business who his roommate wanted to sleep with or hurt or be hurt by. it was too risky to get attached. too risky because it'd be hard to let go. too risky because sehun doesn't want unfinished stories and unclear sentiments. he doesn't want one night. he doesn't want to focus on the unimportant details like the way jongdae's laughter doesn't tinkle like bells or how his sleepy voice tugs at his heartstrings or how he wets his chapped lips when he's thinking too hard (which isn't too often). but sehun....sehun thinks too much, he thinks too little, and he doesn't think at all. his thoughts are scattered and splattered across the walls of his mind. they are intriguing and loud and they don't shut up, never.

and yet, at this very moment, his mind is completely blank. it's quiet but his heart is hammering against his ribcage, and it's so loud that sehun swears the neighbors can hear it. hell, he doesn't care about the neighbors, he cares about jongdae. jongdae. jongdae. jongdae's the one that can hear his heart pounding in his chest. he can hear it just as sehun can hear him sing high notes through the cracked bathroom walls. if sehun closes his eyes and concentrates, the melodies waft through his ears and embrace him; they curl and comfort him in the dead of the night. they're there when nobody else is. and he plays the music over and over again, intending to create those sounds on his own. and the shuddering gasp that escapes from jongdae's lips give him hope.

he pushes forward, and that's when he barely, hesitantly, parts his lips while his fingers scramble to bury themselves into the elder's shirt. his walls, jongdae's barriers, sehun notices that they're starting to crumble and it burns. they gasp for air, lips colliding immediately afterwards with no skill, no finesse, just two kids yearning to taste love, to be loved, or attempting to achieve the next best thing. the kiss is composed of clashing tongues and wandering hands, light groans and unintentional, heated touches that sehun wants to mentally commit to memory. he wants to feel the graze of jongdae's fingers in his back again and again and engrave it onto his flesh. skin against skin, again and again, he wants, oh, he wants more.

he wants the beauty that is jongdae. he wants the cupid's bow lips, the sharp cheekbones. he wants the wit, the smiles, the laughter. he wants to hold his hand and kiss his cheeks. he wants to fit somewhere between jongdae's arms and between legs . he wants to map the constellations between his moles and trace paths across his skin. he wants to tousle that sandy-brown hair with his fingertips. to grip, to tangle, to hold and tug. he grows hungrier even as his back hits their apartment wall with a thud while jongdae's kisses become more insistent, messier, and more urgent. between breaths and harsh , jongdae murmurs "I've wanted this. Ah, I've wanted this for so long..." he pauses amid kisses, as if almost waiting for a response, to which he gets none.

sehun doesn't know what to say, his mind's spinning, but he manages to whisper the elder's name in such a way that leaves him weak on his knees. he knows they're both imperfect, that they've kissed other lips, loved other hearts, embraced other arms, undressed other bodies, but sehun doesn't mind tasting those memories with his mouth because he's home now. because together they can paint new stories and masterpieces. because even if it doesn't work out, it's still a journey. a risk that sehun's willing to take.

because jongdae is easier to love than ideals and illusions. because jongdae is welcome to his flaws and so is sehun. because he doesn't have to think about it.

he doesn't want to think about it.

he doesn't think about it.

he doesn't.

it doesn't even cross his mind the following morning as the sunlight lazily seeps through the thin curtains and illuminates their scantily clad torsos. their clothes are strewn haphazardly across the apartment floor, but sehun could care less. he's too busy pressing open-mouthed kisses to his sleepy roommate's shoulders and neck, eliciting soft whines and useless protests (which fall on deaf ears anyways) from the elder's lips. slim fingers work their way up into sehun's straight chestnut locks, tousling, tangling, teasing, and much like his hair, sehun finds that he's been wound around jongdae's little finger. he's so wrapped up in his thoughts and his emotions sort of float in the groggy spaces between twined bodies, and yeah, jongdae's not even completely awake yet, but it's his sleepy face that starts sehun's old heart. his eyes are barely open, but he still tries to kiss the younger, managing to sloppily press his lips to the edge of his jawline as the latter chuckles.

their eyelids flutter and their heartbeats quicken and their hands tells tales that their mouths won't ever speak. he teasingly drags a finger down jongdae's jaw, drawing out a content sigh, and guides him into a slow, languid kiss, and it only takes seconds—no, milliseconds, before the elder hesitantly parts his lips and his way into sehun's mouth. jongdae's hand cups the back of his neck to pull him in him closer as sehun breathes him in, swallowing scars and sins, igniting fires in his veins. their hearts beat in time, together, and sehun can feel himself softening up with every passing second, exposing the parts of himself that he wanted so desperately to hide.

but jongdae's lips are pliant against his own. they pull out the tenderness, and reassure sehun that it's okay to be soft sometimes. that it's okay to be insecure, or vulnerable, to have fits of passion that aren't caged up or concealed. that a life without rules isn't so crazy. and the feelings that they harbor for each other right now aren't crazy.

he breaks the kiss with a quiet, smacking noise to press his forehead against jongdae's as the sun's rays don't shyly peek through the curtains anymore. the light clings to his form fittingly and the sight almost steals the air out of sehun's lungs. jongdae just gives him this confused look, an amused grin playing across his lips as sehun returns it with a faint smile, and a breathless, "good morning."