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“I think I’m gonna float away.”
Wonwoo looks up from his phone for the first time in a while and somehow isn’t surprised to see Soonyoung sprawled all along the soft leather of Jihoon’s couch, legs splayed wide and inviting while he looks forlornly over at Wonwoo. He was sitting up straight texting someone just a few minutes ago, but in the time Wonwoo’s been distracted by the cute animal videos Junhui keeps sending, Soonyoung has somehow managed to completely melt into the couch. It’s cute.
Wonwoo wishes he could say he doesn’t know why he volunteered to babysit Soonyoung today, but he does; it’s just that thinking about it makes him feel squirmy and embarrassed. Time with Soonyoung during the lead up to a comeback is hard to come by, and Wonwoo misses him, as ridiculous as it sounds seeing as they live and work and exist together.
“You’re not going to float away Soonyoung-ah,” he reassures, letting one hand reach out to clasp around the delicate bone of Soonyoung’s ankle. He’s wearing shorts so Wonwoo can see the stretch of his legs, the bruises and scrapes adorning his knees from the countless hours of hard work that he’s been putting in.
And that’s why he’s here, really. Because there aren’t many things that Soonyoung does for himself at times like this, but he had reached out and asked the group chat if anyone was available to babysit and Wonwoo had responded before he could think twice about it. If Soonyoung was trying to take some time for himself, Wonwoo would make sure it went smoothly.
“Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoooo,” Soonyoung croons, wiggling restlessly on the couch. Wonwoo tightens his grip around Soonyoung’s ankle and he stops immediately, lets out a big sigh and settles even further into the plush cushions. “I think I had too much maybe,” he whispers, staring up at the ceiling. It’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to avoid making eye contact, and Wonwoo wishes he didn’t find it so endearing.
“You just ate the one right?”
“No,” Soonyoung squeaks, “there were two in the little bag so I ate both of them.”
“Ah, well. Hmm.”
“Don’t ‘hmm’ at me right now!”
“Hmm.”
“Oh fuck you Wonwoo, this is serious! What do you do when you’re too high?”
It’s so like Soonyoung to dramatize things, make them bigger and funnier and weirder than they are, that Wonwoo almost wants to laugh Soonyoung off. But there’s a note of panic in his voice, and the reminder that Soonyoung, when he’s high, is usually quiet and calm and relaxed, makes him pause.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine Soonyoung-ah. Kwan said he got these from the same girl so, if you do the math, you’re only twice as high as you were last time, right?”
The fierce look of concentration on Soonyoung’s face as he carefully does the math in his head is enough to make Wonwoo let out a quiet laugh, even as he’s opening a new incognito tab and searching how to stop being high. There’s something about black pepper that looks pretty suspect, and lots of reminders to drink water, but nothing else that Wonwoo thinks is useful.
“I guess two times isn’t that much,” Soonyoung finally mumbles, still staring intently at the ceiling.
“Are you hot?” Wonwoo asks, because Soonyoung’s face is pink and shining a little with sweat. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he hops up and flicks on the overhead fan. It was getting a little stuffy for his liking anyway.
Soonyoung flops his head over to look at him, boneless and lazy. “Hoshi sexy.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Hoshi sexyyyyyyyyyy,” Soonyoung repeats, drawing it out until he wheezes out the last of his breath and giggles at himself.
“Cool, nevermind.”
“Don’t be mean just because I’m high and you’re not,” Soonyoung pouts. “I’m sorry you get so paranoid and scared of everything, that sucks.”
Wonwoo shrugs. It’s not a big deal, really. He’s only gotten high a few times, and it was always with someone who stayed sober (Seungcheol, twice, and then Soonyoung for the rest), and it always ended with Wonwoo pacing back and forth muttering to himself, flinching at every noise he heard outside. According to Seungkwan, the resident expert, he could probably find a strain that wouldn’t throw his body immediately into fight or flight mode, but Wonwoo figures this is a sign from the universe that weed just isn’t for him.
Soonyoung, on the other hand.
“I really think I’m too light Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says. His eyes are scrunched closed in a concerned furrow, like he’s trying to weigh himself in his head right at this moment, and Wonwoo gets the sudden urge to smooth a thumb over Soonyoung’s forehead, maybe brush the sweaty hair out of his eyes.
“Huh?” He says instead, because he’s useless.
Soonyoung’s eyes are still closed but now he’s frowning, deep and pitiful. It looks out of place on his face, the way stress always does.
“I don’t like this,” Soonyoung whispers, and Wonwoo moves closer to him on instinct, nudges his legs up so he can slide under them and onto the couch. His legs are warm and prickly when Wonwoo rubs his hands over them, trying to soothe.
“I think Jihoon’s got some blankets stashed in here somewhere, do you want one?”
“No.”
“Two?”
It feels like a breath of air, cold and crisp, when the frown melts off Soonyoung’s face and he giggles, soft and sweet and soft. The roundness of his pink cheeks and the way his eyes scrunch shut make Wonwoo think he understands what Soonyoung’s talking about, weightless and seconds from floating away.
“What do you need?” Wonwoo asks after Soonyoung’s giggles subside.
“It’s embarrassing.”
Wonwoo blinks, barks out a laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not!”
Wonwoo doesn’t roll his eyes, but only because Soonyoung is looking up at him like the human embodiment of the pleading eyes emoji, and Wonwoo is a weak man.
“You can tell me, you know.” He says it quietly, because something about being with Soonyoung, just the two of them, always makes him speak softly.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I won’t.”
Soonyoung is gnawing on his thumbnail as he considers Wonwoo. It makes him want to sit up a little straighter, smooth away any wrinkles in the soft fabric of his sweater. As bizarre as it sounds, he wants to impress Soonyoung.
“Come here,” he finally mumbles, spitting out a sliver of fingernail onto the floor as he beckons Wonwoo closer.
“Jihoon’s going to kill you for that,” Wonwoo grouses, but he does as Soonyoung asked, sliding closer until Soonyoung’s legs are draped fully across his lap.
“Jihoonie loves me,” Soonyoung dismisses quickly, and Wonwoo doesn’t say anything in response because, well, he’s right. Jihoon won’t do anything more than complain, and probably not even that since he knows how stressed Soonyoung has been lately, how much time and energy he’s been funneling into this comeback, how badly he’s been needing a break.
“Is this better?” Wonwoo asks, once he thinks he’s as close as he can possibly get without actually climbing on top of Soonyoung.
“No. Can you just-” Soonyoung huffs, and when he plucks at Wonwoo’s sleeves, trying to urge him closer without saying it outright, Wonwoo realizes.
“You want me to lay on you?”
Soonyoung nods, cheeks flushing pink. It makes sense, the way Soonyoung has been worried about floating away, the way he calmed at Wonwoo’s firm grip on his ankle.
“I’m heavier than I look.”
“Good,” Soonyoung sighs. “I need you to crush me.”
Wonwoo huffs a laugh and doesn’t let himself think about it any more before he moves, pushing Soonyoung’s legs off his lap so he can stand and then, very carefully, he lowers the length of his body on top of Soonyoung’s, until their calves and thighs and torsos are pressed together tightly, no space left for doubts. He tucks his face into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck, lets out a shaky exhale he hopes Soonyoung is too high to notice.
“Better now?”
“Ohhhhh fuck, yeah,” Soonyoung’s voice squeaks out of him, breathy from the way Wonwoo’s weight has pushed all the air out of his lungs.
“Cool.”
It’s not cool, actually, being splayed out on top of Soonyoung like this. It’s pretty fucking stressful, trying to make sure that his hips aren’t aligned with Soonyoung’s, that he’s not actually crushing Soonyoung’s smaller frame under his weight. His breathing is too quick and shallow for everything to be cool, but Soonyoung doesn’t call him out on it.
It takes a while but eventually Wonwoo finds his breathing slowing, deepening, until he can feel them settle into a rhythm, his chest expanding when Soonyoung exhales, sighing out his breath as Soonyoung inhales, an infinite loop. It feels good. Push and pull, give and take, just him and a stoned, pliable Soonyoung.
“This is nice,” Soonyoung murmurs, right into Wonwoo’s ear. It makes him shiver.
“You feel better now?”
“Yeah. I feel like one of those cartoon characters that gets splatted by a piano or something. But like, in a good way,” he assures Wonwoo, patting his sides.
Wonwoo snorts, wiggling a little to make sure Soonyoung doesn’t get any ideas about tickling him. Soonyoung’s hands stay where they are, not tickling but just holding gently.
“Does that mean I’m the piano?” Wonwoo asks, because now that they’ve broken the silence he feels a little weird, out of place. It’s hard for some people to believe but talking to Soonyoung always calms him down.
“Nah, you’re the bumbling sidekick who accidentally cut the rope on the piano that squished me,” Soonyoung says decisively, and Wonwoo shakes his head at the audacity, the tip of his nose skating against Soonyoung’s neck in a poor imitation of a kiss.
“That’s what you think of me?”
“Yep.”
“I’m hurt.”
“You’ll recover,” Soonyoung giggles and Wonwoo has never felt so himself than when he’s with Soonyoung. Even when Soonyoung is high as a kite and kind of sweaty and insulting him, Wonwoo thinks he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
So he pulls his face out of the damp stretch of Soonyoung’s neck and kisses him.
Soonyoung’s lips are soft. He tastes a little bit like weed and a lot like the kimchi he’d been munching on earlier, and Wonwoo likes it anyway.
It’s not until Soonyoung jolts under him and yelps, like he stuck a fork in another electrical socket, that Wonwoo panics. Soonyoung is high and Wonwoo is pinning him to the couch with his weight and this was a terrible fucking idea actually and he can’t believe he did something so stupid, and right before comeback season.
He bolts up off of Soonyoung so he can leave like he clearly wants to. Or at least, he tries to, but Soonyoung is much sweatier than he realized so instead they slither off the couch like it’s a slip-n-slide and tangle together into a heap on the floor.
“Ow,” Soonyoung whines, and Wonwoo reaches out on instinct to check Soonyoung’s bad shoulder. His hands are probing gently at Soonyoung’s scapula when Soonyoung says, “You kissed me,” more question than statement.
Wonwoo swallows hard but doesn’t meet Soonyoung’s eyes as he scoots a little bit further away on the hard tile of Jihoon’s studio floor.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s stupid,” Soonyoung says as Wonwoo’s hands drop away from the warmth of Soonyoung’s skin. Their ankles are still twisted together like links in a chain but that’s the only place they’re touching now.
Wonwoo blinks, raises his head to meet Soonyoung’s eyes and finds him grinning wildly, the way he looks when he’s just figured out a new move for choreo, or when he helps Chan with his Danceologies. He looks proud, excited. Kind of amused, too, because Soonyoung finds joy in everything in a way that Wonwoo doesn’t think he’ll ever understand.
“What’s stupid?”
“You, stupid,” Soonyoung laughs, and untangles their ankles just to hook one leg around Wonwoo’s thigh and pull him closer, until they’re pressed together again.
“You’re high, Soonie.”
“Hi, stupid,” Soonyoung cackles out, and maybe Wonwoo is stupid because he feels his breath hitch and he gives in to the familiar urge to laugh right along with Soonyoung, foreheads coming together just shy of too hard as they curl into each other, a little weird but comfortable as anything.
“Come kiss me again.” Soonyoung’s breath is still sour from the kimchi but Wonwoo leans forward anyway, trying not to think about how right it feels to follow Soonyoung’s lead.
The kiss is still short, still chaste. Wonwoo keeps his eyes open because it feels important to see Soonyoung in this moment, catalog him in his brain. It ends because Soonyoung is smiling too wide to continue, and then Wonwoo is too.
“My mouth is sooooo dry right now,” Soonyoung announces cheerfully, smacking his lips and using Wonwoo’s shoulder to balance and heave himself up to standing.
“I’ve got a water bottle in my backpack,” Wonwoo says as Soonyoung reaches a hand out and helps him to his feet. “And we should probably head out soon before hyung gets worried.” Jeonghan always worries when he knows someone’s high, and Wonwoo doesn’t want to stress him out needlessly.
“Ah Wonwoo-yah, my hero.”
“I thought I was your sidekick.”
“Some people can be both,” Soonyoung says primly, and Wonwoo laughs, again, loud and embarrassing except for how he knows Soonyoung loves it when he can get Wonwoo to crack like this.
“Don’t count on it.”
Soonyoung beams, grabs the water bottle Wonwoo offers him and then grabs his hand, locks their fingers together. His palm is a little damp, but Wonwoo squeezes it anyway.
“We can talk about this more when we get home and I’m not zooted,” Soonyoung says, and Wonwoo smiles into the kiss he presses against Soonyoung’s squishy cheek.
“I’ll be there,” Wonwoo says, tugging Soonyoung out the door after making sure all the lights are off.
“Of course you’ll be there, we live together,” Soonyoung chortles, and Wonwoo thinks that something should feel different, probably, but it doesn’t. Not really.
They’ll get back to the dorm and Jeonghan will welcome them home with a shrewd look and a sigh. Soonyoung will whine about wanting to watch a movie, seriously I feel wide awake now I can’t believe you haven’t seen this one yet we have to put it on, just to fall asleep halfway through and drool on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo will let him, because Soonyoung needs the rest.
In the morning, they’ll talk about it.
Wonwoo kind of can’t wait.