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Summary
On the other hand, Seonghoon loved the season. Not because he particularly enjoyed being cooked alive by the sun, but because of this—Geonwoo’s flushed chest, thighs sticking together until he was forced to part his legs, hair damp and pushed back to reveal his forehead, the thick arch of his eyebrows that made him look older than he was. Seonghoon loved it a little too much, probably, the way Geonwoo’s skin gleamed, some part of him mourning the moment sweat would dry on his skin under the relentless air conditioning and he would no longer look visibly bothered, squirming on the ground, clueless to the way Seonghoon wanted to pounce on him.
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In the midst of a brutal heatwave Seonghoon finds a way to distract Geonwoo.