“Oh, right, of course, I’ll get right on churning out another one. I’m like a factory of Grammy-winning songs,” Seonho jokes, tapping Leo’s foot with his own with a snicker. It’s a euphoric feeling, being able to do what he loves now, and it is made even better that he gets to do it with people who are just as passionate about their own craft, like Leo. After witnessing how dedicated the other man was that first day he had stumbled into that practice room on feet that were out of rhythm, how could Seonho not be attracted to him? “I’ll make it a point to swing by. It would be nice to dance with you for pleasure instead of only work.” Up to this point, A fine line had been drawn between the two, work and pleasure, and it feels like now is the time that the latter could take center-stage.
There has to be some kind of irony to the fact that it has taken Seonho getting high for him to see with clear eyes, noting the tinge of color that is decorating Leo’s cheekbones. And it’s Leo that is drawing their legs together, and Seonho finally convinces himself that the tether between them isn’t just in his head. He’s pliant to Leo’s maneuvering, like he had always been during their practices. ”Having fun is the goal,” he relays in agreement, the heat from his own cheeks travelling throughout his body as he watches, mesmerized, as Leo curls his mouth around the bong. His leg rubs against the one entangled in his own, locking his gaze as his eyes darken and dilate. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, the touch of Leo’s hand causing goosebumps to rise along his arms. If the encouraging smile isn’t enough of a go-ahead, Seonho makes his response evident by taking the initiative. One hand falls to Leo’s hip, the other to the back of his head so that he can reposition to lean back onto the arm of the couch, bringing Leo with him so that he’s hovering over Seonho. Closing the gap between their mouths, Seonho lets his jaw fall slack and his eyes close, lips parting to breathe in the smoke upon the other’s exhale and hoping that Leo takes the not-so-subtle hint that he can do far more than that.
Leo can’t even deny it anymore, the air around them feels charged with something and all he can do is go along with the motions. He’s properly high right now and every sensation he feels is magnified tenfold, especially with Senoho so close to him. While a part of him believes whatever tension between them is finally going to break, the rational part of his brain is still screaming at him to take it slow. Maybe he’s really just here to smoke weed through shotgunning. Friends do that.... right?
He’s not even thinking about friendships now, not with the way Seonho’s maneuvering him on the couch, the touch of his hands feeling like fire on Leo’s skin. Making himself comfortable, Leo places his knees on each side of Seonho’s hips, practically straddling him. He can’t really process everything all at once; after all, he has a mouth full of smoke. Without breaking eye contact, Leo cups his face in a featherlight touch and leans in. Positioning his lips barely a centimeter away from Seonho’s, he closes his eyes and exhales. It’s messy but also just perfect; the smoke that escapes from their mouth blankets around them in an opaque white haze, making it feel as if it’s only him and Seonho in this world. Suddenly, with the smoke out of his throat, Leo finally looks at the man below him, mouth slightly parted open, neck exposed with the way he’s resting on the arm of the couch. Suddenly, something inside Leo snaps. “Seonho,” he murmurs, his voice slightly stilted. It’s hard for him to talk when he’s feeling so much. “Stop me if you don’t want this.” Leo’s words flow out of him in a rush, desperation laced in his breathy voice. Grabbing the back of Seonho’s neck and leans in, crashing their lips together, a low moan coming from his throat upon impact.