A/n: this is bc 💎 anon had a bonfire and my mind went: jisung, cozy, cute.
The fire was crackling and smoking. Your friends were gathered around the heat, laughing and telling stupid ghost stories.
You were wearing Jisung’s hoodie because, as usual, you did not come prepared for the weather. It was soft and cozy and if you weren’t sitting on a splintering log, you probably could’ve fallen asleep.
To distract yourself from the pain, you gazed out at the backyard. Fireflies could be seen lighting up like they were having their own little get-together. The moon was bright in the clear sky and a light breeze ruffled the trees. You closed your eyes taking in the atmosphere trying to implant this memory in your mind forever.
Jisung laughed along with his friends at Jeongin who had just gotten marshmallow up his nose. He looked across the pit to you to see if you were having fun or if you were comfortable enough.
You had forgotten to dress warmly which caused him to fuss over you like a protective boyfriend, which he wasn’t. A boyfriend. He was definitely protective, though. Thankfully, he knew you’d forget something like that and brought an extra hoodie, smirking fondly as you accepted it, embarrassed.
You had your eyes closed and head tilted back. The moonlight was lighting up your soft features and small smile. Jisung thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. You shifted a little and your face scrunched up in pain for a second before going back to its peaceful state.
You felt someone’s eyes on you. Opening your own, you found Jisung gazing at you with an indescribable look.
You grin, scrunching your nose up at him. Hopefully the light sparks from the fire were enough to hide the stars in your eyes at his almost fond look as he chuckles and proceeds to stick his tongue out at you.
Then his expression changes to worry as he holds up an okay symbol, mouthing a question ‘you okay?’. You tilt your head wondering why he would ask that. He points to his seat, which is an actual seat, and then points to your makeshift seat.
Jisung watches your puppy like confusion as you try to understand what he’s saying. You look down at your log and back at his chair. Your face lights up with understanding and you nod. Although, Jisung doesn’t think you fully understood that he was offering to switch seats when you stand up, make your way over to his side of the fire, and sit down. On his lap. Not that he’s complaining, but that was not what he was expecting.
You’ve always been a little shy with skinship. Especially with him. And now that you’re sitting on his lap in front of all your friends, pulling his arms to wrap around you, he thinks his brain is short circuiting. He’s very aware of your hair tickling his nose, the warmth emanating from your torso against his, and the light tapping of your fingers on his wrists.
He doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed, but he can’t help but whisper to you that that wasn’t what he meant when pointing to the seats.
You freeze for a second, now realizing that he probably was trying to ask if you wanted to switch. But you’re here now and you’re comfortable. He’s warm and cuddly and even though your heart is racing scarily fast, you like the feeling of his arms around you and his breath on your ear.
You shift on his lap, pulling your feet up over the arm of the chair, so you’re sitting sideways. His hands are on your hip instead of your stomach now. You can also see his face now, which is only a few inches away from yours. His calm demeanor is clear through the steady puffs of breath fanning your face. You whisper back if it’s okay that you chose this option instead.
You watch his eyes flutter and flit around your face as he nods slowly. Your own gaze travels slowly from his eyes to his nose and then his lips and back to eyes that focus back on yours from your own lips.
Jisung scans your face for any sign of uncomfortableness. He really doesn’t want to scare you away. You’ve been the owner of his heart for as long as he can remember and if he was the one to make you break it, he could never forgive himself. Would never forgive himself.
The firelight is flickering, casting a soft shadow on half your face, making you look even more beautiful than you did a few minutes ago, if that’s even possible. He looks at your lips again; a silent plea of his brain. They look soft, thanks to your constant use of chapstick. He knows his are chapped and split from years of his nervous chewing habit.
When you start to lean towards him, his breath hitches and his eyes snap open wide to look at yours. One of your hands come up gently laying in the junction of his neck and shoulder while the other one rests on his bicep.
Jisung’s breath is quicker and you feel his pulse in his neck: it’s fast. Terrified you might be scaring him or making him uncomfortable, you stop a few centimeters from his face. Then you feel him squeeze your hip as he sits up a fraction of an inch. He takes a breath and closes the gap.
His lips are rough. The kiss itself is gentle and everything you’ve ever imagined it to be, but damn does he need some chapstick. The thought makes you giggle into the kiss, which in turn makes him giggle, effectively breaking the kiss.
He asks you what’s so funny. You chuckle and tell him it was nothing, pecking his lips again and tucking your head under his chin. You tuck your hands under your own chin and snuggle in closer to his chest, his arms wrapping around you tighter.
Jisung kisses the top of your head just because he feels like he can now. His heart is lighter than it’s ever felt before. The butterflies in his stomach have finally found a flying formation instead of random chaos.
He focuses on your presence and how happy he is. Whatever deity out there that made this happen, he is thanking. The light breeze cools down his warm cheeks, but not the fire in his soul. The crickets chirp, but don’t drown out the sound of his friends’ teasing when Felix tells the others what just happened. The firelight burns bright, but not as bright as your eyes as you turn to look at him again or your smile as you repeat the action that brought on the teasing in the first place with more vigor; completely out of character for you, but he guesses you just really wanted to kiss him again. He’s still not complaining.
Jisung responds in like, going as far as perching on the edge of his seat and dipping you in a sitting-dance move, the kiss only being partially broken by your squeak of surprise. Your hands shoot out around his neck as his secure you by your back and shoulder; your friends hoot and holler around you.
You’re happy. Unbelievably and irrevocably happy. Jisung sits back again, shifting you to rest comfortably on his lap. You rest your forehead against his neck; your cheek on his collarbone. His heartbeat is calm again.
The years of sneaking glances and sweaty palms are over, but now you have something better. You and Jisung will have to talk about the exact development of tonight’s actions, but you’re pretty sure you’re on the same page.
With the warmth from the fire and Jisung’s body, you soon find yourself slipping off to dreamland. The last thing you recall is light butterfly kisses to your hair as Jisung whispers three words: 'I want marshmallows.’
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