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Being near Soonyoung is like feeding Seokmin’s power through a megaphone: it amplifies its strength and range. When the two of them are feeling happy, everyone within a certain radius feels happy, too. It also works the other way around, but when are they ever unhappy when they’re together?
That’s a joke—like most things between them are. Easy and simple and effortless, that’s how things usually are. It’s not always perfect: Seokmin may be full of sunshine and rainbows, but he’s only human.
It may not be perfect, but it comes close, and that’s the most Seokmin can ask for.
Soonyoung has one earbud in his ear and the other lies against his chest. His elbow bumps Seokmin’s ribs every now and then when he wiggles in excitement, committing dance moves to memory as he consumes them through YouTube. Seokmin balances his laptop on the arm of the couch they’re seated on, his thigh warm against Soonyoung’s despite the fact that there’s enough space for two, maybe three if they squeezed together, other people on the couch.
“Seokminnie,” Soonyoung coos, his excitement warm in Seokmin’s stomach, “look at this—isn’t this amazing?”
Seokmin peers over Soonyoung’s shoulder and looks at his phone. A hip hop dance crew executes some powerful moves on screen, going from tough to playful and back again in seconds.
“Whoa,” Seokmin murmurs.
“Right?”
Seokmin can practically hear the gears in Soonyoung’s head turning. Another delightful thing about Soonyoung is that he’s always thinking : he’s always contemplating new choreo, new jokes, new melodies. His head is a constantly shifting landscape where Seokmin could get lost. Sometimes he feels like he does.
People’s feelings are like—kind of like clay, or brick, or marble. They come in varying levels of malleability, and Seokmin’s ability to affect them depend on how he’s feeling, too. He can’t see auras, not as light reflected into his eyes, but he can feel them in his gut. Sometimes he can feel them on the tips of his fingers if the connection is good enough.
Soonyoung’s aura is as familiar as the back of his hand. It’s warm and soft like freshly baked cookies. But there’s substance to it, too, like Seokmin could really sink his teeth into it, dig his nails into it. Being near Soonyoung is like sliding into sheets straight out of the dryer; being near Soonyoung is like warm tea on a cold day; being near Soonyoung is like coming home.
Seokmin looks up from Soonyoung’s phone, smiling a little smile to himself, and brushes some of his hyung’s hair out of his eyes. Soonyoung glances at him for a second and shoots him a bright smile in return. And when he looks back down at his phone, the smile settles over Seokmin’s skin and slides through layers of muscle and bones before sinking down to the pit of his stomach, where it stays for the rest of the night.
“Seokmin-ah.”
Seokmin looks up from his laptop and finds a bun at the end of his nose.
“Hungry?” Soonyoung continues. He waves the bun for a bit before bumping it against Seokmin’s lips.
“Uh,” Seokmin starts, his voice muffled against the bun. He can smell hints of barbecue sauce from the inside of it. “I guess?”
“Open up, Seokmin!” Soonyoung says, bumping Seokmin’s lips again.
Seokmin opens his mouth, splitting a smile, and allows Soonyoung to feed him the bun. There’s barbecue pork inside, still warm.
A smile spreads across Soonyoung’s face as he watches Seokmin chew. He feeds him a few more bites before he lets Seokmin seize the bun between his teeth.
“I swear you’ve been in here all day,” Soonyoung says. “It’s not good to skip meals.”
“Might help my figure a bit, eh?” Seokmin replies.
Although Soonyoung smiles in return, something shifts in his chest, and Seokmin immediately regrets his response.
Although the lot of them may joke about dieting, a part of them all takes it very seriously. Soonyoung in particular has struggled a bit with his image, fretting over his round cheeks. Seokmin definitely thinks that Soonyoung doesn’t need to lose any more weight and that Soonyoung deserves to eat whatever he wants, from pounds of meat to however many packages of ramen he can fit into his mouth, but he’s also all too aware of Soonyoung’s dissatisfaction regarding his appearance.
He has felt it, too—the empty victory that comes with successfully avoiding food has tinged his head through second-hand experience. It echoed through his stomach to the point where even the suggestion of food made him feel guilty.
And yet Soonyoung continues to look after him like this. Seokmin reaches out and takes Soonyoung’s hand, playing with his fingers, and his aura slides up Soonyoung’s like ivy climbing up a wall.
“Thank you, hyung,” Seokmin says with his sunniest smile.
Soonyoung smiles back. Soonyoung can feel what Seokmin’s trying to do and he appreciates it somewhere in the pit of his empty stomach.
Seokmin wishes he could do more. But he supposes this is better than doing nothing.
“What are you working on, anyway?” Soonyoung asks, burying the issue under genuine curiosity.
Seokmin turns his computer around so Soonyoung can see. After craning his head a bit, Soonyoung opts to share Seokmin’s seat at the table, resting a thigh on top of Seokmin’s.
“Lyrics,” Seokmin replies. “It’s nowhere near done, but it’d be cool if you could tell me what you think about it so far.”
As Soonyoung’s eyes rake over the words, Seokmin can feel most traces of their earlier exchange dissolve into little threads. They scatter through Soonyoung’s head, easily ignored but there, nonetheless.
Seokmin squeezes Soonyoung’s hand and Soonyoung slots his fingers between Seokmin’s.
“Well,” Soonyoung begins, and Seokmin shoves thoughts of food to the back of his head.
Seungkwan rolls his eyes when Seokmin shows up wearing the same shirt as Soonyoung.
“We can’t go out like this,” Seungkwan insists. “Did I miss the memo or something?” He pouts a little; Seokmin resists the urge to pinch his cheeks. “We have a group chat for a reason, you know.”
Grinning, Soonyoung approaches Seokmin and drapes an arm over his shoulders.
“Nice,” he says, tugging the hem. Seokmin feels his ears heat up, but he grins back anyway. “Very nice.”
Soonyoung’s amusement bubbles in his chest, soft and light like sponge cake, topped with pride and a hint of possessiveness. There’s some satisfaction in seeing Seokmin in a matching shirt. The heat in Seokmin’s ears burns hotter.
“I’ll change,” Seokmin offers, pushing Soonyoung away with a gentle touch to his waist. Soonyoung lets him go without a fuss.
When Seokmin returns to his room, he pulls the shirt over his head and just holds it for a moment. Some part of him is reluctant to put it back; some part of him wants to be part of a set with Soonyoung. And aren’t they already? Soonseok isn’t Soonseok with either of them apart.
He supposes putting it on public display is a different issue entirely. Seungkwan’s pout pops into the front of Seokmin’s mind, and he remembers the sour taste of Seungkwan’s frustration, the grit between his teeth at the thought of being left out. Booseoksoon is also a set, and Seokmin wouldn’t dare to disrupt the balance.
However, as he digs through his drawers to find a suitable replacement shirt, the rich, velvety taste of Soonyoung’s possessiveness rests on the back of his tongue, bordering on distracting.
Seokmin licks his lips and finally picks a shirt.
Seungkwan quirks a brow when he lays eyes on Seokmin again. “Took you long enough,” he huffs. Then his eyes narrow a little. “I don’t think I’ve seen that shirt before, actually.”
When Soonyoung turns to look at Seokmin, his eyes widen. It’s not long before they curve into sweet crescents and satisfied delight begins to bubble in Seokmin’s chest.
“It’s new,” Soonyoung lies, “I just gave it to him last week. I almost forgot about it.”
Grinning, Soonyoung reaches out and grabs Seokmin by the belt loops. As he tugs him closer, he inclines his head up to Seokmin’s ear and whispers, “In fact, you can keep it. I think it looks better on you.”
Seokmin blushes from his neck to the tips of his ears. Luckily, Seungkwan is too busy double-checking his phone to pay him any attention.
“Listen, we’re gonna miss the bus if we shit around any longer,” Seungkwan says. He blindly reaches out for Soonyoung’s free hand and starts to tug the pair away.
Wrapped up in his favourite people, Seokmin has never felt warmer. He tries his best not to blame it on the shirt draped over his shoulders, a little too tight across the back to be his.
Soonyoung isn’t jealous.
His eyes rest shamelessly on Jeonghan and Jisoo’s clasped hands. He watches as the pair chat animatedly, energetic despite the sweat pouring down the sides of their faces.
Soonyoung knows he has a power, too. He can feel it—he can feel it, feel the sticky-thick resistance of the auras around him. He just can’t—he can’t describe it, that’s all. That’s all.
Ever since Jeonghan and Jisoo made their little thing official, Soonyoung’s… admiration of their openness has been tickling the back of his neck like an indecisive headache. Part of him just wants it to hurt so he can stew in his bitter pettiness for a while, just so it’ll be finished sooner. But it doesn’t hurt; he’s happy for them, in his heart of hearts.
Maybe the worst part of it is that he can’t tell if he’s jealous of their relationship or their newly declared powers. Soonyoung can still remember the way Jisoo tried to explain himself at their last group meeting.
“It’s not really mind-reading,” Jisoo insists, holding his hands up.
Jeonghan grins that grin of his—the one where you know he’s up to no good. From beside Soonyoung, Seokmin’s mouth twitches a little. The expression doesn’t last long, but Soonyoung doesn’t think Jeonghan is up to any good, anyway.
“Not in, like, words or anything so concrete,” Jisoo continues. He gestures with his hands a little. “Feelings, more like. Sounds and tastes and smells—something like that.”
Again, Jeonghan smiles. It’s a smaller curl of his lips, something knowing. Soonyoung wonders if their powers influence each other in some way.
Soonyoung thinks of Seokmin, whose aura Soonyoung knows like the back of his hand. When Seokmin is with Soonyoung, that’s when Soonyoung can tell he has a power. He can feel Seokmin’s soothing presence like a touch, a caress, loving and warm and sweet. It’s almost as if Seokmin can use Soonyoung like an extension of himself, his powers, and Soonyoung can feel it as his aura stretches through him.
Seungcheol holds his chin in his hands, humming. “I just hope you’re not using it to be sneaky,” he says.
“I can’t really help it,” Jisoo grumbles. “I can’t turn it off or on. But I try my best not to pry.” He looks at the ground for a second before staring Seungcheol right in the face. “It’s not like I want to be privy to the members’ thoughts. It gets—busy, up in here.”
Seungcheol nods. “I understand,” he replies, and Soonyoung can feel the sincerity in his tone. Everyone knows about Seungcheol’s power: it’s similar in a way, kind of. He can hear things the others can’t as well—and it’s not like he means to eavesdrop. He has his bad days, too.
With great power comes great responsibility, as they say.
Of course, the members took Jisoo’s admission as well as they could. None of them really understood what he meant. In fact, Soonyoung doesn’t think even Jisoo really understands what it means, to him as person and also as a member of Seventeen, but Soonyoung is also confident it won’t affect them negatively. They’ll work through it if need be.
Next up is Jeonghan, who stands next to Jisoo up at the front. He slides one of his hands into Jisoo’s in a gentle grip.
“Turns out I have a power, too,” Jeonghan states. His voice is casual, easy, and Seungcheol seems to take this information with much more ease than he took Jisoo’s. He probably knew already. Those hyungs are close on a level that Soonyoung knows he won’t ever be. He’s okay with it, though.
“So what is it, hyung?” Chan asks.
Jeonghan taps his chin with a finger. “Well… it’s kind of… energy-sharing, if that makes sense?” he says. “My aura goes to people whose auras are weaker. A little boost.”
“Kinda like mine, then?” Seungkwan pipes up.
“Wouldn’t you say that your power makes more energy, though?” Hansol asks. “From what you said, it doesn’t actually take anything away from your own aura.”
“Right,” Seungkwan agrees. He settles back into his seat a little more.
“Hansol’s right,” Jeonghan replies. “But it is similar to yours in that way, too.”
The group discusses it lightly. No one thinks it will disrupt the group balance, and by the way Jeonghan seems to be handling the responses, Soonyoung thinks his power has been apparent to Jeonghan for a while now.
Soonyoung’s eyes linger on Jisoo and Jeonghan’s joined hands before he returns to the conversation at hand.
So Jeonghan and Jisoo got their relationship and their powers in one pretty package. Soonyoung is sure it’s more complex than that; he could just tell by the way Jisoo hesitated when trying to explain it, and by the way Jeonghan reacted to Jisoo’s words. But Soonyoung can’t help but imagine it as something simple—something he can actually understand, wrap his head around, so that maybe he can understand himself.
The real question is whether or not this is about his powers or his relationship with Seokmin. Maybe it’s both. They’re related, regardless.
Part of Soonyoung wants to say that he doesn’t care whether or not he has a power—but that would be a lie. Not only do Seungkwan and Seokmin both have powers, but so do several of the other members. Actually, Jisoo revealing his own power confirms that Soonyoung is the only member without them.
Powers are common enough nowadays, but not enough to make him feel particularly left out in the grand scheme of things. Being the only one out of a group of thirteen, though… what are the chances?
But Soonyoung does have a power. He’s also worried that he’s just been using it wrong this entire time. Seungcheol has told him that his aura is strong, and together they often joke it must help him be a good leader. Honestly, at this point, Soonyoung would be glad to hear that was the case, if only to put him at ease about the whole situation.
Maybe he’s being childish. Maybe he’s thinking too hard.
Jisoo looks up at Soonyoung from across the room. Yeah, he’s gotta be thinking too hard if he caught the damn mind-reader’s attention.
“Is everything alright, hyung?” Seokmin asks, crossing the room to come to Soonyoung’s side.
Immediately, Soonyoung feels a refreshing breeze roll through his body starting from bottom of his throat down to the top of his stomach. It clashes with the unease brewing a storm in the pit of his guts.
Soonyoung knows Seokmin doesn’t need to ask. An empath just knows these things about other people; otherwise, they wouldn’t be an empath. It’s a common courtesy thing, a social nicety.
“Just thinking,” Soonyoung replies. He looks up at Seokmin and meets his bright, concerned eyes. Seokmin’s handle on his positive energy falters; he’s always been a little too honest that way, at least to Soonyoung.
Being on the receiving end of an empath’s powers is a little too much honesty for both parties sometimes. Soonyoung doesn’t mind, though.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Soonyoung promises him.
The words are enough to calm Seokmin to the point of pulling back his aura, even if just a bit. Soonyoung steps into Seokmin’s space and brushes Seokmin’s side with his elbow.
“Let’s grab lunch,” Soonyoung suggests, easy as ever. He tops off the proposition with a wide grin.
Seokmin grins back just as easily.
Soonyoung likes Seokmin. He supposes that’s putting it simply.
Everything’s just easier with him. It’s nice to have a partner in crime; it’s nice to have someone watch his back; it’s nice to have someone who laughs at your jokes and someone who’ll tell you if they suck, too. It’s all these little things, but it’s the little things that matter. It’s nice to feel appreciated, to have someone notice the little things.
Seokmin is always so in-tune with Soonyoung and it’s a natural thing. Maybe the weird part is that it is as natural as it is.
Soonyoung bursts into the practice room. It’s a bit after 2AM and he just finished up his business in the bathroom.
“It’s decided,” Soonyoung declares. Seungkwan and Seokmin look up at him with too-bright eyes lined with fatigue. “I need to get buff,” he finishes.
Seungkwan is the first to look away. “Uh huh,” he says, returning to his phone. His feet are propped up on a chair and he’s got one elbow balanced on a table. “And what led you to that conclusion?”
With a huff, Soonyoung marches over to the table at which Seungkwan is seated. On the way there, he has to figure out a response that doesn’t give away the fact that he spent like three whole minutes flexing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“You know,” Soonyoung replies sagely, “I was thinking—”
“Oh, dangerous move,” Seungkwan retorts without a second of hesitation, “but you know I like danger.”
Seokmin snorts. It echoes throughout the empty practice room.
Soonyoung rolls his eyes with his entire body. “Anyway,” he continues, “I was thinking—it’s one thing to have intense choreo.”
Nodding, Seokmin rubs at his knees.
“But, like—it’s not as intense unless I have an intense presence, right?”
Seungkwan eyes Soonyoung for a second. He chews on his reply for a second before delivering it: “But you are intense on stage, hyung.”
“Definitely,” Seokmin adds. “You’ve got one of the most impressive stage presences out of the whole group. We’ve told you this before.”
Soonyoung has the decency to blush a little. “Yeah, okay, but—there’s always room for improvement, right?”
Both Seungkwan and Seokmin look Soonyoung up and down. The level of scrutiny from Seungkwan is par for the course, given the boy’s critical eye, but Seokmin’s gaze seems hesitant. Shy.
Seokmin looks away first. Seungkwan follows soon after, putting his phone down with a sigh.
“Hyung,” Seungkwan starts. Soonyoung stands up a little straighter. “You’re like, five years old. You’ll grow into an adult body at your own pace.”
Seokmin bursts into laughter and doubles over onto the table. Sighing, Soonyoung sinks into the nearest seat.
“You’re the worst,” Soonyoung grumbles. He covers his face with a hand, but he still catches the wry smile Seungkwan sends his way.
“Maybe,” Seungkwan replies, “but hey, we’re in this together. I’m probably four years old at best.”
Soonyoung cracks a tiny smile. Having finally caught his breath, Seokmin sits up and plants both elbows on the table. He and Seungkwan exchange grins, and that’s all it takes to get Seokmin laughing again. The sound ripples through the entire room and laps at Soonyoung’s chest, a radiant warmth, a soothing familiarity, feather-light affection that cascades down his throat to settle firmly in his stomach.
Leaning back in his seat, Soonyoung tries his best to sneak a glance at Seokmin, who’s just starting to calm down again. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands, and Soonyoung uses that as a starting point.
It’s a little strange to him that Seokmin can look at Soonyoung and think amazing stage presence. Soonyoung isn’t much to look at. Years have passed and while Soonyoung has always used the shape of his eyes as his thing, his gimmick, it’s only recently that he’s come to genuinely like that part about himself. And it’s taken dieting to reach an overall image that he likes as well.
But Seokmin has always been handsome. His sharp jaw along with the elegant slope of his nose have always been eye-catching. His smiling eyes are always so damn sunny, almost blinding even amongst the bright lights of the stage. And that’s just his face.
Soonyoung’s gaze trails over the features of Seokmin’s face to the column of his neck, the firm expanse of his shoulders. Now he can feel Seokmin’s aura reaching him, questioning and—hesitant once again. Shy.
This isn’t new, though. Soonyoung has always had a habit of admiring Seokmin’s looks even when he doesn’t think he should. There’s actually something kind of cute about the way Seokmin seems hyper-aware of Soonyoung’s gaze whenever it falls upon his body.
The lines of Seokmin’s body are strong, guidelines for Soonyoung’s hands and eyes. Soonyoung has held that body in his arms, felt it against his own, but he doesn’t think he could ever get enough of him.
Now he is the complete package. With some reluctance, Soonyoung raises his eyes to meet Seokmin’s. They exchange grins, though an undercurrent of heat slides between them for a breath or two.
“I guess it’s not entirely unreasonable,” Seungkwan says. He has already returned to his phone, but the stiff quality of the air surrounding his head betrays his casual posture. They might have neglected him for a bit too long. Oops. “I mean, exercise is healthy and all that.”
Grinning, Soonyoung leans across the table to clap an arm over Seungkwan’s shoulders. “Glad you agree! Especially since I’m officially dubbing you my workout buddy!”
“What!”
Laughter bubbles in Seokmin’s chest again. Soonyoung’s grin widens.
“You heard me,” Soonyoung continues. He leans close enough to press his cheek against Seungkwan’s. Within this proximity, he’s too close to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s evil eye.
“You’re not giving me a choice, are you?” Seungkwan asks.
The grin on Soonyoung’s face doesn’t waver for even a second.
“Nope.”
Seungkwan can, however, shoot Seokmin an exasperated look. Seokmin holds up his hands, a laugh caught behind his pearly whites.
“You’re just gonna let him do this?” Seungkwan demands.
Seokmin shrugs. “It’s not really my place to question him,” he replies, easy as ever, and Soonyoung can’t help but love his inclination to enable Soonyoung’s foolishness.
Soonyoung’s fucked, probably. But he doesn’t think he minds.
Seungkwan groans and Soonyoung bullies him into a tickle fight. As Seokmin laughs and joins in, hand brushing Soonyoung’s every now and then, Soonyoung thinks that he definitely doesn’t mind at all.
Another late night. Seokmin’s brain is a little scattered, a little fuzzy, and it’s weird to say that he’s used to it by now. The strange tired energy possessing his limbs, his second wind so to speak, feels electric, a few steps away from wild.
It’s… fun.
Then again, considering his company, how could this be anything less than fun?
At the cusp of 5AM, he and Soonyoung are a little loopy as they sit crammed on a couch in one of the dorm’s common rooms. They’re practically in each other’s laps, but neither of them mind one bit. The warmth bouncing between their bodies is too comfortable to even think about separating.
“Listen, look,” Soonyoung says, thumbing out of the vine compilation they were watching and over to another dance video, another source of inspiration out of a long, long list of YouTube subscriptions—research material.
It’s nice that Soonyoung’s sharing this with him, and normally Seokmin would feel privileged to share that feeling of wonder with Soonyoung, but his head isn’t really secured on his shoulders: he feels like he’s on the border of another world and Soonyoung stands in the centre of it.
Soonyoung is a shining star and Seokmin is content to revolve around him, happy to be within the pull of his gravity.
The warmth between them is gradually building to something more, a viscous, gooey heat that stirs something in Seokmin akin to hunger. There’s a hint of longing, slivers of pining, a craving that lingers despite their current closeness.
Seokmin licks his lips and tries to pay attention.
“What do you think if I tried to pull off this move?” Soonyoung asks. He holds his phone a little too close to Seokmin’s face. “Like, do you think I could get on my feet fast enough?”
Soonyoung gestures widely with his hands and manages to yank his headphones out of his phone. The music of the dance video he’s watching suddenly enters the room, surprising the two of them enough that they almost knock their heads together. The clatter of Soonyoung’s phone across the floor interrupts the music for a couple of seconds.
A couple of inches keeps their heads apart. Immediately, instinctively, Seokmin looks down at Soonyoung’s lips. It’s a film kind of move, something out of a drama. It’s a little embarrassing to catch himself doing it.
Air whistles past Soonyoung’s teeth. A few seconds tick by, paced by the thumping bass of the music coming from Soonyoung’s phone.
“Um,” Soonyoung murmurs. He glances up and catches Seokmin’s eyes. This close, Seokmin finds himself caught in the different flecks of brown fragmenting Soonyoung’s irises, just barely hanging onto the shards of colour.
Soonyoung blinks. His cheeks are warm. His stomach is rolling with nervous energy and excitement, and every flutter of his insides brushes against the core of Seokmin’s aura. It’s almost a little too much—at the same time, Seokmin wants to be closer, closer.
Still, there remains a thin barrier of uncertainty. Is this really what they want? Is it—safe? Is it safe to pursue this?
Then again, the price of staying safe can be pretty steep as well. Staying safe could mean stagnating, missing opportunities, lagging behind.
Seokmin thinks the pros outweigh the cons. If he can have Soonyoung—he can’t even begin to describe how much that would mean to him.
Just as Seokmin makes up his mind, Soonyoung starts to back away. Everything in Seokmin screams at him to chase, to move forward, but fear seizes his lungs and he freezes.
“Dammit,” Soonyoung mutters, leaning off the edge of the couch to grab at his phone. It’s a little too far.
Soonyoung flails a little. Then he flails a lot, sitting up in a flash and grabbing Seokmin’s shoulders.
“Seokmin-ah!” he cries. There’s a lot wrapped around that name—tense and tight anxiety holds fondness and affection behind tense yet brittle bars.
“Y-Yeah?” Seokmin stutters. He doesn’t know where Soonyoung’s going with this. His world is starting to spin a little faster on its axis and it’s taking some effort to keep up.
“Help me get my phone!” Soonyoung wails.
Seokmin furrows his brow. He looks over Soonyoung’s shoulder and gauges the distance between the couch and the phone. It’s not far, probably only a few steps away.
As Seokmin moves to stand, Soonyoung cries out again and reaches out to wrap his arms around Seokmin’s waist. Seokmin allows it, laughing a breathless laugh, and collapses against Soonyoung’s side.
They’re pressed closely together, thigh to thigh and hip to hip, Seokmin’s shoulder cradled against Soonyoung’s chest.
“I meant,” Soonyoung says, a pout on his lips, “without getting up.”
Now Seokmin quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?”
Soonyoung tilts his head to look at his phone again. He extends a hand and wiggles his fingers at the phone.
“Like—” Soonyoung huffs and makes grabby motions. “Like, with my aura.”
“Huh?” Now he’s genuinely confused.
“I can, like—I can feel it,” Soonyoung insists. “It must be like Jihoonie—I don’t know how to explain it!” he cries. “It’s, like—when you’re here with me, I feel like I can do anything.”
Seokmin flushes; now he really has no idea where Soonyoung is going with this. Is this meant to be a confession? It would be characteristic of him to hide it in some convoluted joke, but…
When Seokmin remains silent, Soonyoung turns to look at him. He’s still pouting.
“I mean—” Soonyoung starts, but he cuts himself off to purse his lips. He heaves a little sigh before continuing: “Your aura. My aura. When we’re together, it…”
He gestures with his hands again, making sure to keep it tamer this time around.
“It feels different,” he decides. He tilts his head a little. “Don’t you think?”
Seokmin nods so quickly he worries for a second that he’ll really knock heads with Soonyoung this time.
Soonyoung flashes him a grin before reaching towards his phone again.
“So, like—” Soonyoung wiggles his fingers. “Help me out here. I really think I can get it—I can feel it.”
“Well—” Seokmin sits up a little straighter and tries to catch Soonyoung’s eye again. “What is it you want me to do?”
Furrowing his brow, Soonyoung mulls something over. He looks over at Seokmin, scans his face for a second, then nods to himself.
“Hold me,” Soonyoung commands him.
Seokmin’s cheeks heat up again.
“Um, okay,” Seokmin mumbles in agreement.
With careful hands, Seokmin wraps his arms around Soonyoung’s middle. The contact shouldn’t be different than any other time Seokmin has hugged Soonyoung—and he has definitely done that more than he can count—but there’s something like intent bubbling in Soonyoung’s aura. It wraps thickly over Seokmin’s entire being, and for a second it envelops him so deeply it is just short of sinking into his skin.
It’s only for a moment, though. It seems that Soonyoung can sense he’s about to consume Seokmin—and, really, maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing—and he pulls back a bit.
Now that they’re tied together like this, Seokmin finds he has trouble pinning down any individual emotion. He’s had his power as long as he can remember: it was never dormant in him like some other people’s abilities can be. It’s come as naturally to him as breathing, feeling out other people’s emotions and trying to tame them.
But now the space where he begins and where Soonyoung ends is a little strange, a little fuzzy. There’s a multitude of feelings swirling between them, affection being the most voluminous and the loudest of them all.
Seokmin tries to piece some of them together and ends up with a sentiment that sounds something like “what would I do without you?”
Seokmin isn’t sure he knows the answer to that one, but he does know that he won’t have try and find the answer any time soon.
“Can you feel it now?” Soonyoung whispers. His lips are by Seokmin’s ear, just short of brushing the skin of his cheek.
“I think so,” Seokmin breathes in reply. He nods fractionally, afraid of breaking—whatever this is. “I mean—yes.”
Soonyoung grins and Seokmin can feel the muscles in his face move.
Inhaling deeply, slowly, Soonyoung closes his eyes and reaches out again. This time, Seokmin really can feel it—Soonyoung seems to be using Seokmin’s aura to extend his own. There’s a vague pulling sensation, almost like having his skin tugged away from his body, but it’s not so severe as to cause real pain.
After a few grunts of effort, Soonyoung manages to drag the phone closer. Seokmin can’t see his aura make contact with the phone, but he can feel the moment when Soonyoung touches it.
He manages to knock it within reach. Once he’s scooped it back into his grasp, he lifts it into the air and waves it around in victory. By now, the music has stopped playing; Seokmin’s thunderous heartbeat had served as his personal background music for the past little while.
“Got it!” Soonyoung exclaims, a victory cry. He loops both arms around Seokmin’s shoulders and brings him in for a crushing hug. “Thanks for the help, Seokminnie.”
Before Seokmin can fully understand what’s happening, Soonyoung’s pulling back just enough to align their faces. Then there are lips on his and Seokmin’s head explodes.
Okay, not really, but the sudden rush of affection that boils over in Seokmin’s chest rushes through the length of his throat and up into the confines of his skull. It’s dizzying, it’s enveloping, and it makes him feel so full and yet so light at the same time.
It’s a quick thing, a smack of the lips. Soonyoung pulls away in a second and grins widely.
“You’re really—” Soonyoung starts. His breath tapers off into the quiet drizzle of rain, contemplative. “You’re really something,” he finishes.
Seokmin hazards a smile in return. “What would I do without you?” he asks.
The question seems to turn something into place in Soonyoung’s head. They exchange grins again, though it’s not long before Soonyoung’s expression softens. His eyes drift over Seokmin’s face; he can feel Soonyoung’s gaze tracing over his features with hungry precision. It kind of makes him feel like a snack.
Soonyoung’s tongue swipes over his lips. Now Seokmin really feels like a snack—though it only makes him wonder what Soonyoung tastes like.
Soonyoung lifts a hand and cups Seokmin’s jaw. The pad of his thumb is tender against Seokmin’s cheek, the gesture approaching reverent. It takes extra effort for Seokmin to remember to breathe.
His breath gets stolen anyway: Soonyoung lifts his eyes to Seokmin’s for a second, a thousand thoughts flitting through them too quickly for Seokmin to even begin to comprehend, and a smile crosses his lips before he seals it against Seokmin’s mouth.
This time, Seokmin is expecting it—even if he can hardly believe it. As Soonyoung presses forward, Seokmin opens up, barely managing a breath before his entire world narrows down to Soonyoung’s plush mouth against his own.
When Soonyoung pulls back, he licks his lips again. Seokmin’s focusing his energy into calming his breath.
“Cool, huh?” Soonyoung asks. He’s settled back against the couch now and his phone is suspended in the air, hanging just an inch from his hand.
Seokmin pokes the phone and it wobbles but stays aloft.
“I’ve always—you know, I’ve always felt like I could kinda touch other people’s auras,” Soonyoung says. “Obviously a phone doesn’t have an aura—but maybe mine is just stronger than I thought. Flexible or something. Like I can—extend it or something? And use it to manipulate or bend other auras, even just a little?”
He wiggles his fingers. Seokmin nods his understanding—as much as he can understand past 5AM—and takes Soonyoung’s hands into his own. The small gesture draws a giddy smile to Soonyoung’s face.
“Sounds good,” Seokmin replies simply.
Soonyoung laughs a little and reaches up to brush some of Seokmin’s hair out of his face. The tender moment would top it all off—but Seokmin breaks into a wide yawn. Soonyoung follows suit immediately, launching them into an impromptu yawning contest.
They fall into breathless laughter soon after. With a contented sigh, Soonyoung slumps forward against Seokmin’s chest.
“There’ll be time to figure it out,” Soonyoung murmurs, his voice slightly muffled against Seokmin’s shoulder. His cheek is smushed and his mouth forms a cute heart as he talks. “We have plenty of time.”
Seokmin settles down and draws his arms around Soonyoung’s middle. The curve of Soonyoung’s waist fits perfectly against his hands. It’s exactly as it always has been and exactly as it should be.
“Yeah,” Seokmin agrees. His eyelids have started to drop, lulled by the rhythm of Soonyoung’s breathing. “We have tomorrow,” he adds, “and the next day, and the next day, and the next..” He trails off into a yawn.
Soonyoung smacks clumsy fingers to Seokmin’s lips to shush him. A helpless and tired laugh escapes through the small space between Seokmin’s lips nonetheless.
“Sleep now,” Soonyoung mumbles, shifting closer still to Seokmin. He’s not really sure how they manage it, but in the end, they’re moulded together perfectly, the lines and planes of their bodies aligned in all the right places.
There’s no room for Seokmin to argue. And when it occurs to him that he’ll have the opportunity to wake up with Soonyoung in his arms like this, all soft and warm and squishy in the fragile hours of the morning, Seokmin finds it incredibly easy to let sleep take him.