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Summary
He’s stupid about Seokjoon. Incurably so.
Seokjoon makes Seongil's head fuzzy and his hands shake. Seokjoon makes Seongil feel whole, and real, and unbearably hot.
Seongil looked at Seokjoon beneath him, his hair fanned across the pillow, his freckles showing where his foundation had sweat off his face, and he was hit with a deep, almost concerning spike of adoration. It felt like running head first into a brick wall. Muscles seizing, ears ringing, air pushed from his lungs.
