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“I’m going on a walk,” Thanos’s voice rings out in the small apartment as he stands at the front door. He waits there a moment, only met with silence.
“Nam-su! I’m going out for a walk!” he calls out louder. He hears rustling from Nam-gyu’s room, and then footsteps. He opens the bedroom door, looking a mess. He sports only an oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts. Black hair falls from behind his ears, messy and in his face.
Shit, he looks good like this.
Thanos wants to keep him near, now.
“Come with me, pretty boy. Get dressed,” Thanos grins, finishing in English. Nam-gyu looks unimpressed.
“It’s 1 in the morning…” he mumbles, and Thanos walks up to him. He seems only half-awake. He tucks Nam-gyu’s hair back for him how he likes it, brushing his fingers through it to neaten it up. That earns a small smile from Nam-gyu.
“Just come on, man.”
Before Nam-gyu can deny him again, Thanos enters his own bedroom. He exits holding a hoodie, tossing it to Nam-gyu, who just barely catches it.
“Put some pants on,” Thanos insists, to which Nam-gyu sighs, enters his room, and comes back out a minute later. He looks cute in Thanos’s yellow hoodie, his own pair of black cargo pants. He can tell that his hair has been brushed, been tucked back until Nam-gyu was satisfied.
“You’re ridiculous,” Nam-gyu chides, but he’s grinning.
They walk out the door, and then out of the apartment building. It’s chilly out, he watches Nam-gyu cross his arms over his chest, sleeves pulled over his hands. Thanos grabs the pack of smokes and lighter from his jacket pocket. Holding the cigarette between his lips, he lights it–very aware of Nam-gyu’s eyes on him.
He takes a drag before redirecting his gaze to Nam-gyu, holding out the cigarette to him. He accepts, takes a drag himself. Thanos watches the way smoke escapes past his lips, all pretty like a model, even after being dragged out of bed.
Thanos hums to himself as they walk down the street. It’s quiet, only illuminated by streetlights, and the headlights of the odd passing car. He looks at Nam-gyu, how he’s lit up by the soft glow.
“You bring me out here just to stare at me?” Nam-gyu questions. He seems to have woken up a little.
“And if I did?” Thanos grins.
“Well, I already said you’re ridiculous.”
Nam-gyu grabs onto the sleeve of Thanos’s hoodie, and Thanos pulls his arm away, grabbing Nam-gyu’s hand instead.
“You’re cold,” Thanos states bluntly, pulling both of their hands towards himself and burying them in his jacket pocket. Nam-gyu just smiles, squeezing his hand and taking another drag.
They walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, passing the cigarette back and forth until Thanos tosses it to the ground and stomps it out.
As they pass through a park, Nam-gyu stops him, pulling Thanos by the hand to sit down with him on a bench. Thanos shoots him a questioning look.
“My legs are tired,” Nam-gyu mutters.
Their thighs are pressed against one another's, and Thanos places his hand on Nam-gyu’s. It’s quieter here than in the streets, he can hear their shallow breathing overlapping.
“Why’d you want me with you?” Nam-gyu meets his gaze, genuinely inquiring, this time.
He hadn’t really considered the answer, himself. He speaks before thinking.
“You’re pretty. ‘nd I was lonely. Or, bored, I guess. I dunno, man.”
Had the overhead lights been brighter, Nam-gyu would’ve seen the embarrassed flush on Thanos’s face. He giggles , placing his hand over Thanos’s, where it rests on his leg.
“I look that good? Straight out of bed?”
“Well, you look better in bed,” Thanos grins. Nam-gyu swats Thanos’s hand, unamused. Thanos snickers to himself, regardless, because Nam-gyu is smiling.
Nam-gyu leans against him, head resting on his shoulder. Thanos grabs his hand, brings it to his own lips.
Without a word, he presses soft kisses to each knuckle. He kisses his palm, and down his wrist as the baggy sleeve rolls up.
He kisses every scar that litters Nam-gyu’s wrist, now interlocking their fingers.
Their eyes meet, and Nam-gyu’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything to Thanos, just allows him to keep kissing his arm.
Thanos finally pulls away, a small grin plastered on his face.
“You’re cute, Nam-su,” he mutters, moving both their hands back to Nam-gyu’s thigh. Even in the dark, he can see Nam-gyu’s face flush.
“Nam-gyu,” he insists, pretending that the nickname bothers him.
He looks up at Thanos, eyes eager for something he can’t bring himself to ask for. Thanos smiles knowingly.
Without much warning, Nam-gyu leans in close and presses his lips to Thanos’s. The kiss is uncharacteristically soft, Thanos gently cupping Nam-gyu’s cheek. He tucks Nam-gyu’s hair back for him. Smiling into the kiss, Nam-gyu grabs Thanos’s arm, pulling him closer.
When they break apart, they stay close, foreheads pressed together.
“You’re so stupid,” Nam-gyu speaks with a smile, his voice just above a whisper.
“You love me,” Thanos mutters.
“Yeah, maybe I do.”
Thanos kisses him again, deeper, with more vigor. Nam-gyu clings onto him, arms now around his shoulders, hugging him close. It’s less than ideal, they smile against each other’s lips, giggle so hard they have to break away to take a breath. But it’s perfect.
In the back of his mind, he thinks that he loves Nam-gyu, too. He loves his pretty face and his soft lips, he loves the way he fidgets with his hands and tucks back his hair. The way he looks when he’s all done up before a shift at the Club, the way he looks half-dressed at 1 in the morning. He loves his voice and the way he speaks, the way he clings on to him, the way he understands him.
Yeah, Thanos loves him.
Fuck … he’s in way over his head, isn’t he?