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“You don’t have to stay down here with me,” Taesan says from his spot on the couch, peering at his bandmate through the cool dim light of the television.
There’s a movie night happening upstairs, which is where the rest of their group members are, but Taesan wasn’t feeling up to it today. ‘Movie night’ for them isn’t just a movie, it’s a whole social.. thing. Maybe it’s just the introvert in him, but he just doesn’t feel like doing all that right now. It’s quieter down here, even if it’s not his floor of the dorm.
Sungho asked if he wanted some company — which, at first, Taesan didn’t, and he almost said as much. But.. It's Sungho. At the end of the day, his presence never feels anything but warm.
“I know,” Sungho replies, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. A gentle flutter in Taesan’s chest startles him and he clears his throat.
“I’m gonna get some water,” He says quickly, wobbling a little as he stands up from the couch. He can feel Sungho’s eyes on him as he reaches into the cabinet for a glass, and for some reason it burns, makes his pulse quicken and his fingers twitch and- oh.
The glass shatters on impact as it hits the tiled floor, and Taesan just barely jumps back to avoid it hitting his feet.
“Woah, you okay?” Sungho calls, and Taesan panics when he sees him start to stand up.
“It’s fine, don’t worry!” Taesan crouches down and tries to pick up one of the bigger shards when Sungho gasps.
“Not with your hands-“
“Shit-!”
Well, this is somewhat embarrassing; feeling a little woozy at the sight of his own blood as he stupidly cuts himself trying to scoop glass with his bare hands.
“..This is embarrassing.”
Sungho snorts and helps Taesan stand, holding onto his arm as he guides him over the shattered glass.
“Don’t worry, I’ll sweep it up in a minute. First, though, we need to clean that off so you don’t get an infection.”
Taesan thinks, in all honesty, it’s a crime for a person to still look good under fluorescent lighting.
The bulbs above their bathroom sink are tinged blue and harsh and so, so unflattering, and yet Sungho’s skin still looks soft, like porcelain. He’s beautiful in a way that makes being this close to him slightly dizzying.
“I need to make sure there’s no glass lodged in your skin,” Sungho mumbles, cradling the back of Taesan’s hand and bringing the cut area close to his face. “No big pieces, let me know if you can feel any shards when I clean it.”
“Thanks, Dr. Park,” Taesan says with a smile, teasing and playful, relishing in the eye roll it coaxes from the older.
“Quiet,” Sungho mutters, but it comes across a lot more soft and less annoyed than Taesan assumes he intended.
He reaches behind Taesan to grab the cotton pads on the sink - luckily they use them a lot for removing makeup, so they have an abundance. He opens the cabinet above the toilet and moves stuff around until he finds the antiseptic, pressing the cotton pad to the top and wetting it.
Sungho places the bottle aside and steps back between Taesan’s legs, and this definitely doesn’t help the constant buzzing in his chest. He’s so close, so warm, so gentle with his care, and really how the hell does he look so perfect under these lights?
“It’s gonna sting, try not to move Taesan-ah,” Sungho says with a fake-stern voice, commanding in the way doctors on T.V usually are. It makes Taesan laugh a little.
“Thank you for doing this,” Taesan says as his nose wrinkles - it stings like hell, but he knows it’s important to get it cleaned. He knows Sungho will always do what he can to take care of him, take care of everyone, in the little ways.
He’s always been like that — he’s always there, caring and strong, a pillar of consistency that the rest of the group can rely on no matter what. He might not be their leader, but Sungho is kind of like their bones, holding them up and helping them function.
Taesan adores that about him. Always has.
“It’s nothing,” Sungho assures, shrugging loosely. “I’m good at helping.”
Taesan’s eyes bore into Sungho’s face as he gently wipes the antiseptic across his injury, cleaning it thoroughly. His lips are pursed together in focus, eyelashes casting soft shadows across his cheeks from the overhead light. Soon enough he’s digging out a bandaid from his little first aid kit and ripping it open.
“It’s not nothing,” Taesan mutters as Sungho places the band aid across the wound carefully. “You didn’t have to help me, but you are. I need to be better about thanking you for stuff like that.”
Sungho pauses, meeting Taesan’s gaze, a slight whisper of pink gracing his cheek bones. “It’s.. really not a big deal, Taesan-ah,” and then, with his eyes turned back to where he’s smoothing the bandaid down, “I like taking care of people.. of you. Especially you.”
There’s a lot unsaid under his words — a lot of things that Taesan thinks the two of them have been dancing around for a while now. Things that the two of them have always said better with actions than words.
“There we go,” Sungho mumbles, the pink sinking further into his skin, blush creeping down his neck. He tosses the bandaid wrapper in the trash beside the sink and goes to step back.
Taesan can feel the moment about to slip away, and he doesn’t want it to. He doesn’t feel like dancing around the unsaid anymore.
“Sungho-hyung,” Taesan starts, and before he has a chance to respond, he hooks his legs around his hips and tugs him closer.
His hand curls under his jaw, thumb against his chin, beckoning him closer. Sungho’s eyes flicker across Taesan’s face, searching for some sort of explanation, but all he gets is a small, almost shy smile.
“Taesan..” Sungho breathes, hardly audible, and then the gap is closed.
Taesan kisses him like he’s been holding back for eons, licking into Sungho’s mouth, his fingers finding the collar of his t-shirt to tug him even closer.
Sungho gasps against his lips and Taesan takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, teeth and tongue and desperation. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, all he knows is that he wants Sungho closer, more.
He seems to get the hint, his hands settling on Taesan’s parted thighs as he kisses him back eagerly. He melts under Sungho’s touch, the surge of confidence that had him starting this in the first place slipping into something softer, something more vulnerable.
Almost immediately he lets Sungho take the lead, arms slipping around his neck, sighing softly against his lips.
“I need to clean up the glass,” Sungho mutters, but his hands slide up Taesan’s thighs and up his shirt, fingertips grazing against the soft skin of his stomach and making him shiver.
“Later,” Taesan whines, and he only feels mildly embarrassed about it when Sungho chuckles against his mouth.
He breaks the kiss, eyes sparkling, and rests a hand against Taesan’s sternum to stop him from chasing his lips. “Hey — we can kiss more after I clean up the shattered glass in the kitchen, okay?”
Taesan huffs, but frees Sungho from his web of limbs, slipping off the sink. He doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until Sungho snorts, fingers prodding into the skin of his cheek. “Aigoo, be patient, baby.”
Something white hot flickers between Taesan’s ribs like a caged flame, and he nods. “I can be patient..”
Sungho grins at him, devastatingly pretty, and he pecks Taesan on the lips, a fleeting thing. “Good..” He turns towards the door and then pauses, “Why don’t you go wait in my room? Jaehyun always falls asleep during movies. I don’t think he’ll be back down tonight.”
That same heat swells and crackles and Taesan nods quickly, heart thumping in his chest as Sungho exits the bathroom. It doesn’t calm down even as he’s sitting on Sungho’s bed, legs folded neatly under him, patient.
Being in Sungho and Jaehyun’s room without either of them is strange — Taesan feels weird looking around, like he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be, so he busies himself with tracing his fingers in various shapes on Sungho’s comforter.
He’s not alone for long. Sungho comes back, smiling at him from where he leans against the door frame. Taesan blinks at him for a moment. “What are you doing?”
Sungho shrugs, and then, in a tone that’s no different from his normal casual, light cadence, “I was just thinking about how pretty you look in my bed.”
He moves forward, climbing into the bed and right over Taesan, arms bracketing his body.
“Oh,” Taesan whispers, and then Sungho kisses him again, and it’s so different from the one they shared in the bathroom.
This one is slow, heavy with intention, like they have all the time in the world. It sure feels like they do, at least. Time stretches or maybe doesn’t even pass at all, as hands wander and lips start to tingle.
“I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” Sungho mumbles sometime later. Every press of his fingers ignites sparks on Taesan’s skin. Lips graze his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He could bathe in this feeling forever, being adored like this.
“Okay,” Taesan responds, and he knows that Sungho means it. Knows he always will. “I’ll take care of you too.”