Work Text:
There is not a single second where it doesn't feel fucked.
The warmth he feels blooming inside mirrors the blush of red spilling across his cheeks, neck, hands. Fuck. His hands. Pale white making the excitement flowing through his blood vessels so glaringly obvious. His hands that now rest on the sides of Baekhee's face and fuck they frame it just right. A nudge to the left and Baekhee responses like it's natural, like this is how it's supposed to be.
This right now is uncharted territory. All the wrong senses in him are heightened yet Ilwoo can't help leaning slightly to the right—further into the kiss. He can feel Baekhee's body heat. Maybe it's because of his jacket, because they just finished moving boxes and furniture up and down the stairs, because there's barely any breeze, that for whatever reason it feels impossibly hot. Everywhere they're connected feels so hot.
Soft Mmm's spill out of Baekhee and holy fuck he’s so screwed. His hand slides into the back of Baekhee's neck, where in turn he feels a tug to his hair where Baekhee rests his own. Clumsy in all that he is, Ilwoo puts more pressure into his lips, feeling a shift in body weight now when he does so.
Another sound is the response he receives. And it falls into his ears so sweetly he can't help but groan into the kiss, savoring and gulping down the taste. He feels a sucking on his bottom lip and fuckkkkk he can't keep up. Ilwoo can't keep up at all but he needs to.
His parted lips make way for a tease, a tongue slipping inside and shit all his ears can hear now is his heart beating twice and thrice too fast. Ilwoo tries to copy, letting his tongue move in awkward attempts to meet Baekhee's.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Every touch Baekhee makes strikes a different chord in the pit of his stomach. The grip Baekhee has around the sleeve of his jacket that tightens and tightens. The softness of Baekhee's lips. Their teeth click against each other in hasty clumsiness and Ilwoo wants more. He wants more and it's scary.
But when has that ever mattered. It just takes so little effort on his part; to give in.
And when they break apart, Ilwoo chases after whatever is left from the ecstasy. He lets it happen. The moment he realizes Baekhee pulls back an inch, he lets the weight of his body move forward, offensively close now to where Baekhee sits. This time he's denied the attempt, and now he counts it the third instance where Ilwoo has half of his face covered by Baekhee's hand.
“Slow down a little and let me breathe, bastard…” Their eyes aren't meeting as Baekhee drags his words. They're slurred in a way that makes Ilwoo feel dizzy. Or is he light headed from the prolonged kiss, he isn't too sure.
Right now, he's riding on pure bliss. Puffed out, sure, and a little scared Baekhee finds him all too inexperienced to dive in again. To do it once more, maybe when solid mattress is under them and not this cold asphalt, when they're not trying to be careful because of the crowd just over the wall. But this is confirmation enough. That it's okay to try. That this is okay.
So Ilwoo's hand reaches out, with wet and reddened lips, holding Baekhee's own the second time this evening.
He cups it, fingers wrapping around Baekhee's slightly smaller ones, grazing his thumb and god this feels so different. So agonizingly foreign and new. So not the Yang Ilwoo he's determined to be, resolution crumbling around the edges, a failure in judgement. So very wrong yet he doesn't want to run away.
Ilwoo holds Baekhee's hand with no purpose. Grounding himself for a while before the tips of his fingers brush against Baekhee's wrist. He feels the mess that is Baekhee's heartbeat, too fast for his own good, palpitating like it's about to burst at any moment.
“Your heart's beating fast.” And Ilwoo finds himself feeling proud of the fact that he can still sound so calm, succeeding in not choking on his own saliva.
Maybe there is something in the air in Gicheon right now. It seeps into their skins and intoxicates them with whatever. That when his gaze finds itself back to the very red, very flustered Baekhee, he isn't cursed out for his remark. That Baekhee doesn't avert his gaze and leans in, meets him halfway.
Their foreheads touch and at that moment Ilwoo forgets the existence of everything else.
“So is yours, asshole.”