butterflies.
mmwonhoĀ·:
feet crossed at the ankle, black joggers, and a hoodie he swam in. his chin pulled towards his body and eyes feigned focus as he pretended to zero in on the laptop screen, catching colors and one-liners but not much more than that. he blamed the heat, the presence, a leg or shoulder bumping into his, passing energy and exciting electrons like the most frustrating science class of all time. he couldnāt state the plot of the episode, gaze glued on the screen, blinks far enough apart that his eyes sting with benign dryness. he blames new years, alcohol, jaemin, and how could he forget the real culprit ā himself. he could ignore it before, a shouldered shrug and raised eyebrows, ignoring that stomach feeling that he learned could easily be associated with the feeling of his fingers tying into jaeminās hair or the taste of his teeth. now it was unavoidable, sharp and annoying, unwittingly flaring at every breach of contact or lock of eyes. a part of him hated it as much as a part of him liked it.
he kept quiet through different sequences of fights or comedy on the screen, arms crossed over his chest, trying to pay attention but even further distracted by another sensation ā the feeling of eyes on him.Ā
it was that that finally made him turn, first his head then followed by his eyes, blinking slowly at jaemin whose face entirely conveyed a look of distance, zoned out entirely with wonhoās face being the canvas for whatever daydream started in his head. wonho, of course, pretends this doesnāt effect him, letting out something of aĀ āhuhā noise.Ā āwhat? you picked this and it still isnāt interesting enough?ā he was joking, at least relatively, with his everyday deadpan, an eyebrow raised. he couldāve ended it there, looked away, saved any possible awkwardness or unnecessary discomfort, jumps or tightness in his chest, but he didnāt, instead an unintentional softening of the voice, a phrase meant to come out teasingly insulting but instead too weak, a lazy search of jaeminās face and, āyouāre really something.ā
jaemin looked like a deer in headlights when wonho turned to meet his gaze. it took a few seconds for him to just blink, let alone attempt to think about anything other than kissing the male in front of him. even then, that was really all he could think about --- it was like a mantra, his mind simply telling him the same thing over and over. was that what someone would consider a sign? or was it even that complicated? probably not, but nothing about the way jaemin and wonhoās unsuspecting relationship had formed was ever really simple... whatever that relationship had developed into. he wasnāt quite sure, and that was what currently had jaemin stumped.
he could feel himself staring at wonhoās lips as he spoke, and at his eyes, then back at his lips again. he canāt even begin to think about how obvious he probably looked, but with the silence that jaemin had allowed to drag on, at the very least he knew wonho would be able to tell that he was nervous. about what? he was still figuring out what his answer would be if he ended up being asked.Ā surprisingly, jaemin had been able to decide how to respond to the elder quite quickly, but now he couldnāt say anything. it was as if he was paralyzed. āhyung, i..ā he said softly, though that was all he managed. there was a lump in his throat and he couldnāt keep going. he was being dramatic, he knew, but that was just who jaemin was. he was dramatic.
rather than giving himself any more time to talk himself out it, the younger suddenly leaned forward. he paused in front of wonho not even for a second before he pressed their lips together with the limited space that was already between them, and relief practicallyĀ meltedĀ off of jaemin. the way he tilted his head to the side and exhaled through his nose; simply breathing in as he kissed the other felt like something brand new, and he wouldāve done anything to keep going, to recreate what they had done on new yearās, but jaeminās sober consciousness wouldnāt allow it. not yet.
once he pulled back, jaemin was rigid, face flushed and his entire frame nearly vibrating. with wide eyes, he swallowed thickly and began to sit up, stuttering while he tried to move the moment along despite his blaring adrenaline (and the hint of a smile on his face), āwe can, um -- we can watch something different if you want. if you donāt like it. or we--- we, we donāt have to watching anything. yeah. we donāt have to. if you donāt want to,ā he mumbled, half-shrugging as his eyes carefully darted back to wonho.
