Work Text:
VERKWAN || FAMILIAR
Black.
Breathes.
White.
Black.
Breathes.
White.
Black.
Breathes.
White.
“No more. Please.” He whispers to himself, the final words ending inaudibly. He shuts his eyes one more time.
Black.
Breathes.
Brown.
Brown eyes. He opens his eyes not to the white ceiling but to crystal brown eyes, inches away from his face. The corners of his lips curve into a slight smile, resisting to show the proof that his fear has vanished — all because of those brown eyes which keep him going.
“Good morning, beautiful.” That voice. That deep, deep voice echoing inside his ears — his drug. He always thinks to himself that he, Boo Seungkwan, bearer of all the worst luck in this universe, found this four-leaf clover that turned his life around.
“Hansol. Urgh.” He emits a groan, trying to stretch his body as the lad build moves to lay on his.
The sun rays hit the latter’s dark brown locks, shining bright, along with Seungkwan’s morning. Seungkwan moves his arm over the said man’s back, lazily draping.
His day is already made. All the nightmares, the deadliest nightmares he gets every single night disappear as he feels the other’s presence.
“I love you.” Seungkwan whispers as his eyes close without fear. He doesn’t realise he voiced out his thought until he felt the familiar soft weight on his lips. His companion pulls away with his most familiar gummy smile.
“I love you more, baby.” He coos, closing their gap as their foreheads gently bump against each other.
This moment is always familiar to Seungkwan. The happiest moments of his life that he is lucky enough to experience everyday without getting tired of it.
He is too flustered to react, knowing Hansol is not used to always hearing those affectionate words from him. He always likes his own emotions covered by the attitude he gives his boyfriend.
Taking a deep breath, he brushes the tip of his nose against the younger’s. “Thank you.”
“For what, Boo?” Hansol is always clueless about these things. He loves the sassy diva who always beats him up, though not literally. He loves Seungkwan so much that he always bugs him whenever, always clinging to him, always making sure the latter is always feeling happy and unbothered.
“For always helping me wake up.” The line is familiar to Hansol. He hears this almost every single day. He gets up an hour earlier than Seungkwan, getting their usual pancakes with maple syrup ready (because it’s the only thing he knows how to cook) to make sure the most precious gets the best kind of treatment.
“Same dream?” Seungkwan nods, the cold sweat gathered on his forehead evaporating. He is calm now — he is safe. Hansol knows all about his dreams. Or dream. The same familiar dream that haunts him every night. Hansol knows what he has gone through.
Familiarity has consumed him way back as he always experience the worst thing he could imagine happening in his life that the tears rolling down his face every morning ran out, leaving him his unsettling fast beating heart — nerves about to pop.
“Breakfast is ready. Let’s go?” Hansol does not wait for an answer as his hands rest on the mattress on the sides of Seungkwan, pushing himself to get up on his feet before extending his arm to hold Seungkwan’s, pulling him whilst laughing at the same annoyed expression his boyfriend obviously pretends to show him.
“God. If your pancakes weren’t so good, I would’ve gone for your shin.” Boo scoffs, letting his body get pulled as his feet automatically brings him to the kitchen.
“Your pancakes are better though.” Seungkwan sees the “annoying” smirk Hansol always tends to give him, making his cheeks flush, the heat only rising as their eyes stay locked.
Seungkwan tries his hard to shoot him a glare. “Shut up.” He mutters, pursing his lips before shaking off his boyfriend’s grip before heading to the counter.
The latter shakes his head, amused at the look Boo showed him.