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It’s late.
Late enough that early came and went hours ago but Hyunjin stopped caring about the time when he realised that the anxiousness thrumming restlessly under his skin wouldn’t be letting him sleep anytime soon. With practised ease, he’d snuck out of the quiet dorm and gone straight to the dance studio, ready to begin the exhausting process of dancing until he was too tired to think.
Sweat crawls down his neck, seeping into his soaked t-shirt and flying in droplets from his unkempt hair. He spins and leaps across the polished floor in time to the pounding beat of whatever’s playing through the speakers, his bare feet and powerful legs launching him through the air. His reflection mimics him perfectly in the mirrors and shadows twirl around them both, only one of the corner lights being on.
Hyunjin likes it this way, ambiguous and indistinct, vision blurred by dim lighting, stinging sweat, and creeping fatigue. He prefers not to see his face when he comes here to pour out his pent-up stress and anxiety. Seeing the weakness in his eyes only frustrates him. So he dances in near-darkness.
Muscles burn.
Sweat drips.
Limbs fly.
Music booms.
On he goes, pushing himself ‘til he’s past exhaustion and he reaches a slightly delirious state where nothing hurts and everything is effortless. His feet barely touch the ground, every movement is smooth and strong, his mind is finally silent and at one with his body.
This must be euphoria, he’s sure of it. Sometimes he wishes he could stay in these moments forever. The sun would never rise, the moon would never set, his legs would never give out on him. It would be just him and the dance.
The song starts on a crescendo, his balance shifts and he sweeps out a leg, an arm, head rolling on his shoulders –
It hits the peak and drops with a violent burst of bass, he curls in harshly on himself, knee to chest, hand overhead –
The melody kicks in again and he rolls his torso, smooth as syrup –
Snick.
Hyunjin’s eyes are barely open enough to ensure he doesn’t crash into the mirrors but he still hears the studio door open and close, knows someone else has arrived.
Distantly, he’s worried they’ll interrupt, maybe turn off the music. He hopes they don’t; that would rudely jolt him out of this blissful state he’s reached, undoing all of his efforts. Hyunjin feels distant relief when nothing changes. Perhaps the person quietly left or perhaps they are simply watching him.
The song changes, something minor key. He shifts gear, slowing and elongating his movements to match the mood. His lashes rise a little more, gaze darting to the door before he can stop himself.
The intruder has not left. The intruder is leaning against the wall, observing him. The intruder is Han Jisung.
(Of course. Jisung always finds him.)
Instinctively, Hyunjin spins low on the ball of his foot, allowing himself to turn away from the mirrors and toward the soft yellow light, toward the rumpled boy watching him with crossed arms and bright eyes. Hyunjin’s lax stare immediately skates away from the intense gaze levelled at him, knowing it threatens his weightless detachment.
But Jisung does not want to be ignored – (he can never ignore him, not really) – and as Hyunjin spins away again, body bending with the rise and fall of the music, Jisung strides forward, carelessly encroaching on Hyunjin’s sacred space, almost making him stumble as the taller boy scrambles backwards. His back hits the wall of mirrors and his breath gasps out of him. He stares down at Jisung, eyes wide but still floaty, still safe, still miles away from here and now.
Jisung doesn’t let him stay in his bubble though, reaching up to thread his small hand through Hyunjin’s sweaty hair, the contact unexpectedly welcome. Hyunjin cannot help but lean into it, his eyes dropping to the shorter boy’s mouth. It’s impossible to tell who moves first but that doesn’t matter when there are soft, warm lips pressed firmly against Hyunjin’s own. Jisung cradles Hyunjin’s head and wastes no time working his mouth open, his tongue sliding wet and hot between the taller boy’s lips. Hyunjin finds the will to raise his hands, curl them around Jisung’s hips, drag the shorter boy forward. He’s sticky and damp with sweat everywhere but Jisung feels so nice against him, the weight his body familiar and comforting.
Slowly, slowly, Jisung draws back, scraping his teeth over Hyunjin’s lower lip, nipping at the plush flesh ‘til it swells. He holds eye contact with Hyunjin as he does so and Hyunjin is powerless to look away.
Desire burns in his blood.
He whimpers, a sound so quiet the music almost swallows it. Jisung catches it anyway and his gaze sharpens ‘til it could draw blood, his other hand coming up to cup the blade of Hyunjin’s jaw, calluses a faint scrape of sensation. Hyunjin’s lashes flutter down, caught halfway between the security of his floaty headspace and the flames searing across his skin. But Jisung never lets him run away and when the shorter boy tugs sharply at his hair, Hyunjin opens his eyes again.
Look at me, those bright eyes say.
Acknowledge me, those pursed lips say.
Stay here with me, those gentle hands say.
Like Hyunjin has ever been able to do anything else, even before they were nine, before they became part of something bigger than themselves, when they couldn’t stand to be around each other.
Catch me, he says through the press of his lips on Jisung’s, finger tightening around his hips as Hyunjin tries to anchor himself.
The surety and effortless control in Jisung response, pushing his firm body up against Hyunjin, holding him in place as he delves into the elder’s mouth once more, is itself an answer.
So Hyunjin puts his trust in Jisung’s hands and falls from his cloud. The restless anxiousness from earlier rushes back, prickling under his skin, filling his lungs with thick porridge but Jisung has him.
The younger boy bites down hard on his lip, the sting making Hyunjin suck in a reflexive gasp of air, warm and damp between their slick mouths. As Jisung licks into him again, he slips his hand from Hyunjin’s sweaty hair to his hip, sweeping up under his t-shirt to grip his bare waist. Hyunjin’s hands clench around Jisung’s hips and he leans into the touch, the burn a welcome one that dissolves the thorns in his blood.
Jisung’s fingers skim down Hyunjin’s abdomen to nudge against the low-slung waistband of his sweats, a question and an offer. Sometimes, Hyunjin accepts but tonight he breaks the kiss to shake his head, fringe hanging over his eyes. If he lets Jisung take him to pieces now, he’s not sure he’ll be able to pull himself back together. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want more skin contact though, and he feels a thrill of pleasure at Jisung’s hitching gasp when he slides his hands under the younger’s shirt, long fingers dancing over taut muscle.
Eyes sparkling up at him, Jisung presses another wet, open-mouthed kiss to Hyunjin’s plump lips before nipping at his jaw and trailing kisses down the long column of his throat. Hyunjin tips his head back against the mirror behind him, panting, and his blunt nails scrape down Jisung’s spine when the younger boy laves his tongue down to Hyunjin’s collar, no doubt tasting the salt of his perspiration.
A breathy, wavering moan slips from Hyunjin’s mouth as Jisung sinks strong white teeth into the meat of the elder’s shoulder, sucking hard. Hyunjin crushes Jisung close, craving contact, proximity, comfort, and the younger hums against Hyunjin’s skin, stroking a thumb over his waist. Then Jisung moves to the hollow of Hyunjin’s throat, tugging down the collar of his shirt, mouthing another mark into his pale skin.
But Hyunjin has little patience and he whines until he has Jisung’s attention, that pert nose bumping his own. He wraps an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, threading his hand through the younger’s hair, and he joins their lips once more. He pushes and demands and pleads and Jisung soothes and gives and devours him, unfaltering.
(Hold me close, don’t let me go, keep me safe in your heart.)
Only then, when the thorns are all gone from his fragile veins, does Hyunjin feel exhaustion threaten on the not-too-distant horizon. He shifts from leaning against the mirror wall to draping himself over Jisung, nosing against the soft curve of his neck and placing light kisses there. He feels Jisung change gears immediately, bracing himself to hold them both up.
Jisung hums and croons and murmurs to him, helping him stand upright again. Their gazes meet and Jisung nods and Hyunjin feels safe. He lets the younger take his hand, guiding him on wobbly legs across the studio so they can turn the music and light off, slip out the door and lock it behind them.
They’re back at the dorm between one blink and the next. Hyunjin is still a sweaty mess but Jisung leads him straight to bed, gently pushing the older boy in first. Curling up on the far edge of the cold mattress, Hyunjin opens his arms and Jisung crawls into them, tugging the blanket up.
Hyunjin presses his gratitude, his love, to Jisung’s clothed chest, right over his heart. He lets his eyes slip shut, limbs entangled with the younger’s, and feels Jisung feather two kisses over his eyelids, one to his forehead.
The quiet envelops them.
They sleep.