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the afternoon sun streamed through the window, warm and slow, as Wonbin shifted uncomfortably. he took off his hoodie in silence, as if still unsure, revealing his sleeveless shirt and, unintentionally, some secrets he didn’t expect would catch your attention so much.
it wasn’t the first time you saw Wonbin without a hoodie, but something about that moment made you stop. maybe it was the light. maybe it was the moles.
and you, with that gaze that misses nothing, give him a quick glance but stop when you see those moles. one subtle one on his arm, another near his stomach, which you noticed since his shirt lifted a little.
you can’t help it and softly but surely say: "i really like your moles..."
and that’s when he freezes. he blinks. looks down for a second, then back up at you. "my what...?" "your moles," you repeat, gentler. "there’s something about them… i don’t know, i just think they’re really cute."
and unexpectedly, he blushes. a real blush, deep, starting from his ears and spreading to his cheeks. he lets out a small nervous laugh and scratches the back of his neck. "no one’s ever told me that," he’d say, not really knowing where to look.
you can tell he’s not used to being admired in that kind of intimate, genuine way. because yes, he knows he’s handsome, but for you to notice those personal, quiet details… it throws him completely off.
and then he does the most Wonbin thing you could imagine: he moves closer, slowly, sits near you, and extends his arm. "do you… want to touch them?" he says, not looking directly at you, with the softest, most trembling voice you’ve ever heard from him.
you laugh, gently trace the mole with your fingertips, and he literally shivers a little. "don’t do that… you’re making me nervous," he’d say, half smiling, half wanting to hide behind the cushions.
but he doesn’t move away. Quite the opposite. he lets you keep touching, not saying another word, surrounded by that tender silence that only exists when there’s already so much trust. your fingers keep brushing the mole on his arm. it’s small, almost invisible, but you look at it like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. and that… breaks him.
wonbin swallows hard. his eyes fixed on your fingers, then on your eyes. he stays quiet for a few seconds, but his cheeks still glow with that soft red that refuses to fade.
"why do you like them so much?" he asks in a low voice, almost a whisper, as if afraid of the answer. you smile and shrug. "because they’re a part of you. and i love everything about you… even the parts you think no one notices."
and him. HIM. he looks at you like you just threw a bucket of tenderness over him. literally. you leave him breathless. he stares with those big, dark eyes, and his lashes tremble just a bit. then, without saying anything, he leans in. slowly. insecure.
and you already know what’s coming, but your heart is racing so fast it feels like it might explode. his plump lips meet yours. soft. warm. shaky at first, then more certain. it’s not a movie kiss or a rushed one. it’s an honest kiss—one of those that says more than a thousand words.
and when he pulls back, just a little, his forehead rests against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, like he needs to process what just happened. "sorry," he murmurs, "i didn’t know if i should…"
"don’t apologize," you reply, still smiling. your hands reach up to his face and caress his cheeks. he sighs, closing his eyes fully this time. and he leans into you. like your lap is his safe place. and you hug him. and he, with his strong arms, holds you with a gentleness you didn’t know he had.
you stay like that. the room in silence. your breaths meeting in that calm space between you. and he whispers: "i feel so good with you… it scares me." and you just hug him tighter, no need to say anything. because everything’s already been said.
you’re still hugging. your head on his chest. wonbin’s heart beats fast—so fast you can hear it in your ears. and he says nothing, just… slides a hand down your back, slowly, caressing you with the tips of his fingers. like he’s memorizing you.
"do you mind if i get closer?" he asks with that deep, soft voice, like he doesn’t want to break the moment. you shake your head, and he gently shifts to be on top of you, bracing himself on one arm, not crushing you but so close you can count his lashes. his gaze locks with yours. so intense. so deep. so yours.
he strokes your cheek, then slowly moves down your neck, tracing invisible lines that steal your breath. and his lips… brush against yours again, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. he just looks at you. like he’s waiting for permission. and you give it without words. you just close your eyes, lean in, and he understands.
the kiss this time is different. slower. More intimate. there’s no rush. just restrained desire, tenderness, and nerves tangled like his fingers with yours.
your hands wrap around him, and his back is warm, strong… but when your fingers brush that mole on his stomach, his body trembles slightly. he looks at you. bites his lip. "stop doing that…" he murmurs, with a smile half crooked, half defeated— "or i’m gonna lose control…"
but you don’t stop. and he lets out a soft laugh, like he can’t believe you.
and then the kiss deepens. hands moving up, down, exploring gently. lips on your neck, your collarbone. his breath growing more ragged against your skin.
until again, he pauses. rests his forehead on your shoulder, barely trembling. "if we keep going… i won’t want to stop." and his voice… sounds like a plea. like a confession.
"then don’t stop," you whisper.
but he hugs you tighter. covers you with his body, with his warmth, and murmurs: "i want to do this right. i want you to remember me as someone who cared for you, not someone who got carried away. i want you to give me your time. as much as you’re willing to give."
and you melt. literally. because… how could you not love someone who desires you with such tenderness and respect?