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Soonyoung likes to talk.
He likes to talk during appropriate times, like at parties or on the first day of a new class. He’s always ready to introduce himself, meet new friends, make connections. He keeps stories and jokes on the tip of his tongue, he is witty and loud and tends to lack a filter. These things, a majority of the time, work in his favor.
The problem is, he likes to talk during inappropriate times as well. During the most intense scene of a horror film, for instance, when the scene is just starting to build up and all that should be heard is the eerie silence accompanied by a quiet score. But everyone in Soonyoung’s theater also gets the pleasure of hearing, “oh my God, what an idiot! Doesn’t she know better than to leave her phone behind when she hears something coming from the closet? I think she deserves to die for that alone -- I’m sorry, was that mean?”
He also likes to talk when he should be drifting to sleep, maybe bedtime is actually his favorite time to talk, actually. His brain floods with a million ideas, questions, quotes from TV shows he hasn’t watched in years. It’s troublesome, really, especially when he has an 8AM shift to look forward to the next day, and his brain won’t quiet down enough to let him rest.
Soonyoung likes to talk, and Wonwoo loves to listen.
He thinks he could write novels about the way Soonyoung’s voice carries in a crowded room, how he could hear it above anything else. He loves the useless facts Soonyoung has catalogued over the years, loves how he spouts them out in uncomfortable situations. One time, when they got pulled over by campus police for going 25 in a 15 zone, Soonyoung had blurted out the first thing he could think of as the officer took down their names.
“Did you know blue whales have the largest penises on the planet?”
“Son, do you want to visit the dean?”
“I’m sorry.”
Wonwoo had laughed so hard as they drove away, he couldn’t even be mad at the hundred dollar fine that sat discarded in the center console. They’d gone half and half to pay it, anyways.
Wonwoo could listen to Soonyoung talk for the rest of eternity, to him, his voice is like the most beautiful melody, it keeps his heart beating at the same steady, rapid, pace it always has, ever since they first met. Wonwoo can hear the stars in Soonyoung’s voice, can practically feel the way the weave their magic through his veins. Wonwoo thinks he’s the luckiest person in the world because he gets a bit of that magic shared with him each day.
But there is a time and place for Soonyoung’s constant chattering, and in the sanctuary of their bedroom, as they both try to doze off to sleep, Wonwoo can’t help but think his brain chooses the worst places to be so loud.
“Do you think rocks have feelings?” Soonyoung asks into the darkness of their room. His leg is thrown over Wonwoo’s waist, and his face is buried into his neck. His lips tickle the sensitive skin.
“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo whines, because he was so close to finally being asleep. If he didn’t miss Soonyoung’s warmth so much, he would’ve kicked him out into the living room by now. But, as it stands, Soonyoung is his personal space heater who specializes in cuddles.
“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung sighs, squeezing Wonwoo’s side a little tighter, “I can’t sleep.”
Wonwoo just hums, lazily drawing his hand up to Soonyoung’s head, carding through his dark hair.
“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asks, his voice small, “will you read to me?”
Wonwoo almost laughs, because Soonyoung sounds like a five year old and the very idea of reading out loud to your long term boyfriend is a little odd, but by the shy shallowness of Soonyoung’s voice, Wonwoo can tell he’s serious.
“Read to you? Why?” he asks instead.
“Your voice,” Soonyoung sighs, nuzzling impossibly closer, “it’s the only thing that really stops all the thoughts. Grounding, almost. Warm, safe, etcetera, etcetera.”
Wonwoo considers this for a moment, wonders how long Soonyoung had been itching to ask for this. He’s usually fairly straightforward until it comes to the most intimate topics. It took him months to say “I love you,” and he had admitted he’d felt it for months before. He knows Soonyoung has a lot of pride, doesn’t like to admit he needs someone to anchor him down at times. Wonwoo’s chest tightens at the realization that he is that person, because of course he is, but it’s nice to know anyways.
“What do you want me to read?” he asks quietly.
Soonyoung sits up quickly, and Wonwoo can see the way his smile blooms under the pale moonlight. It’s a sight he doesn’t think he could ever forget, burned into his memory after countless nights of quiet laughter and warm hands against cold ones. His smile blooms like a moonflower, gently opening up to him and shining bright.
Wonwoo doesn’t know, doesn’t completely understand, but he is the moon. Soonyoung saves a special smile that only blooms for him.
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Soonyoung bites back another smile, and if the room was better lit, Wonwoo is sure he’d be able to seem him blushing bright red. He flicks on the lamp next to his side of their bed, mostly because he isn’t about to risk his eyesight to read his boyfriend to sleep in the dark, but also maybe because he wants to see how prettily Soonyoung flushes.
“What are my options?” Soonyoung asks, laying his head in Wonwoo’s lap and dragging one of his hands to his hair. Wonwoo smiles down at him and begins to curl his fingers in his locks once again, earning an appreciative hum from Soonyoung below.
Wonwoo’s eyes flicker to the bin beneath his bedside table, filled to the brim with books mostly recommended by countless professors, but he doesn’t think Soonyoung would be particularly interested in The Science of the Human Mind, nor does he think he’ll enjoy his collection of psychological-horror novels.
“What do you think about Carrie ?”
“Wonwoo, it’s 2AM, what do you think?”
Wonwoo snorts out a quiet laugh, shrugging his shoulders and fishing out a thick book from the bottom of his bin.
“This isn’t going to be very interesting,” he sighs, “but it’s not a horror novel nor is it going to make you reevaluate your entire thinking process.”
Soonyoung opens one of his tired eyes, looking up to see the book in Wonwoo’s hand.
“Is that a dictionary?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“Go on.”
Wonwoo smiles again, his heart melting from the warmth spreading in his chest. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this. The banter, the stupid inside jokes, any of it. Soonyoung breathes life into him every moment they’re together. If he wasn’t so comfortable, didn’t feel so safe, he’d worry about how attached he was.
Wonwoo clears his throat, opening the dust covered book and appreciating the creaky spine. He thinks there’s something romantic about this, something intimate about reading out loud, even if he is just reading out of a dictionary.
“Aardvark, noun, a nocturnal mammal with long ears…” Wonwoo reads, one hand twisting curls in Soonyoung’s hair, the other rubbing circles into the worn pages of the book as his voice carries in their quiet room. Soonyoung closes his eyes, lets Wonwoo do the speaking for once.
“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung whispers, his voice laced with sleep.
“Hm?” Wonwoo hums, marking his place where he left off at abarognosis - the loss of ability to sense weight.
“Can we turn off the lights now?”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo nods, closing the dictionary and discarding it into his bin once again before he clicks the lamp off, shrouding the room in darkness again.
Soonyoung pulls him down, connecting the two of them together at their foreheads as he wraps his legs around his waist, cuddling closer. He lets out a content sigh, and even as his eyes are closed and he is moments away from sleep, Wonwoo still appreciates the warm smile on his face.
Soonyoung likes to talk, Wonwoo loves to listen, but the most special moments are left unsaid.