Summary: you've always loved Chan and thought he's the best. But tonight, he looks absolutely irresistible and you can't contain yourself.
Warnings: some thirst. Chan is a bit insecure? Disbelieving? But the best in every way. They kiss. They get found out.
Rating: teen and up
This little titbit is caused by these pics that won't let me live. Chan is always my pretty princess man, but lately the styling department has been taking the extra piss, making my man look surreal.
I would do crimes. Hell, I *am* doing crimes and if we were living in the world from "Demolition Man" I'd be fined heavily. :P
***
From This Close
The apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle as Chan shifts on the couch beside you. He's showered since the concert, his hair still damp and falling in soft white waves that catch the pink and blue lamplight.
The dramatic eyeliner hasn't fully come off and there are still traces of it smudged at the corners of his eyes, making them look darker, more intense. And that fake lip ring. God, that lip ring. A bit too tight, and it makes you think that he's probably been in pain from it, but knowing him, he just tuned out the pain and did what he set out to do regardless.
You've known Chan for years. You've always thought he was beautiful in that automatic, unquestioned way you think your friends are the best people in the world. He's always been the most beautiful to you because he is himself, powerful but soft, firm but gentle, young but knowing - always making you feel like the safest place in the world is by his side. But tonight? Tonight is different.
"You're staring," he says, not looking up from his phone, but there's a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm appreciating," you counter, and your voice comes out more breathless than you intended. "Getting my fill while I can."
He does look up then, one eyebrow raised, and you feel your heart do something stupid in your chest. You want to reach out and run your fingers through that white hair. You want to trace the remnants of eyeliner with your thumb. You want to kiss him until that fake lip ring leaves an impression on your own mouth.
"What's gotten into you?" he asks, laughing a little, but there's something uncertain in his eyes. "I feel and look like a knee."
"Can I..." you start, then lose your nerve. You scoff at his self-deprecating comment. "Can I touch your hair?"
He blinks, clearly not expecting that. "My hair?"
"It looks so soft. My fingers, they are twitching."
"We had a concert today," he says quickly, leaning back slightly. "I'm gross. I probably still smell like sweat and, uh, I am sweating right now-"
"You smell fine," you interrupt, scooting closer. "You smell like your shower gel and a little bit like that fabric softener you use. Channie, please. I just... I really want to." you add, bringing a hand up to scritch the smooth, butter-soft skin on his jaw.
He studies your face for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. The uncertainty is still there, but it's joined by something else now; something that makes your pulse race.
"You really..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. "You think I look good right now? Like, from this close?"
"From this close, I think you look incredible," you say honestly. "I've always thought you were beautiful, but tonight I want to kiss you and I don't know what to do with that feeling."
The words hang in the air between you. Chan's eyes widen slightly, his phone forgotten in his lap.
"OH," he breathes. Then, quieter: "Oh."
You start to pull back, suddenly terrified you've ruined everything, but his hand catches yours.
"I've wanted to kiss you for a while," he admits, his voice rough. "I just didn't think... I mean, you're you, and I'm... "
"Perfect," you finish. "You're perfect."
He laughs, but it's shaky. "Come here."
You don't need to be told twice. Your fingers finally, finally find their way into his hair, and it's every bit as soft as you imagined. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat as you touch him, and then his hand is cupping your face and he's kissing you.
It's gentle at first, questioning, like he's still not quite sure this is real. But when you press closer, your fingers tightening in his hair, he deepens the kiss with a soft groan. The fake lip ring is cool against your mouth, and you smile against his lips because it's even better than you imagined. You can feel how extra pillowy his lower lip is right where the ring bites into it and use your own lips to carefully chomp down on the ring and delicately pull at it.
It earns you a little pained and defeated sound from Chan, who pulls away only to try and pry the ring off.
"Wait, let me. You gotta twist the two ends before you pull," you explain, doing just that and looking at the red and angry spots where the metal bit into soft membrane. "Oh you poor thing," you coo.
Chan mews at that, but before he can worry about it, you're on him again, kissing him again, with renewed interest now that the painful element is removed.
His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until you're practically in his lap, and you're both breathing hard when you finally break apart. His eyes are dark, his lips slightly swollen, and he's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.
"We should've done this ages ago," he murmurs, already leaning in again.
"Agreed," you whisper against his mouth.
You're kissing again, deeper this time, all pretense of hesitation gone, when the door to the apartment suddenly swings open.
"FINALLY!" Lee Know's voice cuts through the haze. "Don't you dare stop smooching or I get the airfryer out!"
Chan breaks away with a groan, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "Fuck's sake, Minho!"
"I said don't stop!" Lee Know calls out, already heading down the hallway. Then, loud enough to wake the entire building: "JEONGINNIE, YOU OWE ME!"
You can hear Jeongin's muffled protest from somewhere deeper in the apartment, followed by what sounds like Seungmin asking what's happening, and then collective groaning when Lee Know presumably explains.
Chan is laughing against your neck, his shoulders shaking. "I'm so sorry. They're the worst."
"They bet on us?" you ask, half amused, half mortified.
"Apparently." He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "Do you want to give them a show, or...?"
You trace the line of his jaw with your fingers, smiling when he leans into the touch. "I think I'd rather go back to kissing you without an audience."
"Best idea you've had all night," he says, but he's grinning. "Well, second best. The first was telling me you wanted to kiss me."
