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“Do you think the Ocean listens to us?” is what Seokjin says after he plops on the sand.
Hoseok giggles next to him. Seokjin loves the sound, high-pitched and sweet. “Maybe at night.”
“Mh,” Seokjin mumbles, smiling at the stars and melting under Hoseok's touch. It's light, just his arm brushing against Seokjin's, but it's there and it makes him burn and burn. God .
“I think the Ocean at night is quiet and that's why he listens to us. If you tell him a secret he's gonna keep it forever,” Hoseok says next, the words a bit slurred.
This time it's Seokjin who laughs, tilting his head to look at Hoseok. “Oh my God, Hobi. You're drunk drunk !”
Hoseok hits him on his arm: “You're the one who started!” he says with an offended frown on his face.
Laughing again, Seokjin takes a second to look at him: the moon painted his face with a pallid light, but he knows his skin looks like honey when the sun shines high in the sky. He knows his eyes are the warmest shade of brown, and his lips are the prettiest shade of pink.
“I'm sleepy,” Hoseok says after a moment, and he rests his head on Seokjin's shoulder like that's his designated place.
“Me too,” Seokjin responds. “I think the Ocean is sleepy, too.”
The waves crash quietly on the shore, with rhythm, with calm. Like a lullaby. And Seokjin's head spins – from the alcohol he consumed earlier this evening and from Hoseok's touch.
His head spins so much all the stars seem to be crashing on their bodies, detaching from the sky just to obliterate them. And Seokjin doesn't care.
Not when his body is already sprinkled with stars.
Hoseok's fingers dance with grace on his arm, tracing constellations and space routes, drawing invisible lines where Seokjin's skin is tan and his flesh is firm with muscle.
“Head's spinning,” Hoseok whispers, and Seokjin feels the tip of his nose tickle his neck.
“Not from the alcohol,” he continues.
Seokjin gulps. “From what, then?”
Hoseok giggles. “The sea,” a pause, “you.”
“Me?” His heart sinks in his tummy.
“Yes. It's a secret, though,” he says and giggles again. “The sea is going to swallow it and forget.”
“Should I forget, too?” Seokjin asks, his hand trails up Hoseok's back in a loving stroke.
Hoseok lifts his head and he's– he's so close Seokjin can feel his breath on his chin. His eyes are so glossy, so dark and Seokjin fears they might not have an end. Bottomless, warm, dark eyes, filled with his reflection, filled with all the beautiful things Hoseok has seen.
Hoseok is so close and he shakes his head. A no. “You shouldn't.”
Seokjin holds him tight, sighs when their noses brush. “What should we do?”
“Seal the secret, so maybe the sea doesn't steal it. Maybe when we'll look into the water when the sun is hitting we'll hear the waves murmur about the things we confessed.”
And just like that, Hoseok kisses him.
As Seokjin imagined, his lips are the softest. They're plump and full and so so gentle. The type of lips poets write entire collections about. And they give the type of kisses singers sing about with soft murmurs over quiet guitar riffs.
Hoseok kisses him and Seokjin kisses Hoseok, somewhere between the dead of the night and the start of a new day, when the moon starts to hide and the sky is lighter as the seconds pass.
Ah, is it really happening? Seokjin thinks as Hoseok parts from him – untangles from his hold just to stand up and run to the water.
Seokjin is quick to get up, too. And his head spins and spins and spins… and his eyes are filled with Hoseok and the way the sky projects this sunrise on his skin.
His hand wraps around Hoseok's tiny wrist, thumb gently brushing his soft skin.
Dumbfounded, he looks where he knows he'll find a beauty mark, right on Hoseok's top lip. Just a quick glance before he leans forward to kiss it.
A little mole, placed like a stone on a lonely shore.
“Let's go in the water,” Hoseok murmurs on his lips.
“Isn't it cold?” Seokjin asks, kissing his cheek.
Hoseok shakes his head, grips his shirt. Seokjin lets him unbutton it, notices how his fingers are a bit clammy.
When his shirt falls on the sand Hoseok's eyes roam on his body, slow, enamored. Seokjin brings him closer with a hand on his waist. Removes his t-shirt with a single move.
And then closer closer closer. Seokjin loves the way their chest brush and press together, the way their lips find their way to each other like kissing is the only thing they've known all their lives.
Hoseok's hands on his shoulder, his slim fingers grasping his skin and his arms holding him tight, holding him in place in front of him – right where he belongs.
And then they remove their shorts and they're in their swim shorts (because of course they are).
Hand in hand, they sink in the warm water, they look at the sun as it's coming up and it looks like he's taking a bath in the Ocean.
And maybe the sea is waking up, too, just like the city behind them, just like the birds singing in the air.
In the water Hoseok kisses him again, on his lips and his neck and his shoulders, down his chest and between his fingers.
Right there, where the sun kisses the Ocean, Seokjin's body is reborn like the new day is being born on the horizon line.
He lets the sun paint his body red with resurrection. Lets the Ocean wake up and he lets Hoseok kiss him in their warm embrace.
It's quiet, the point in the universe where their bodies collapse. It's silent, between a kiss and a sigh, between a wave and a whisper.
Seokjin lets Hoseok love him. And that's his rebirth.
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