Archive of Our Own

waymark - a visible sign used to guide travelers along a path.

☆

“What are you doing?” Seungmin gripes as his left leg is lifted up by strong hands, calloused palms glide down his skin in a slow, deliberate sweep.

Seungmin had just stepped out of the shower when he found Minho waiting on his bed. Like a cat who’d strutted into his room and claimed a spot for himself, eyes bright with that particular twinkle that meant he was up to something. Before Seungmin could so much as towel his hair dry, Minho had patted the sheets and told him to lie down.

And, against his better judgment, Seungmin had obeyed.

Which is how Seungmin ended up here, stretched out on the bed, Minho moving his limbs around with a purpose. Minho started with Seungmin’s face, tilting his chin, brushing his thumbs along cheekbones, down his neck, then moved on to his hands, turning them palm-up, palm-down, muttering little things under his breath.

Seungmin tried to ignore it for the first few minutes, but Minho’s wordless nudging and tracing made that impossible. Especially when Seungmin still had no idea why any of this was happening.

“Hyung, seriously. Stop being weird.”

That finally gets Minho to poke his head out from behind his leg. “I’m doing something important.” His sharp eyes lock onto Seungmin’s, an eyebrow arched in warning. “Stay still.”

And then Minho disappears behind his leg again, ducking out of sight to do... whatever it is that he is doing. Fingertips glide from Seungmin’s ankle down to his thigh in a slow, searching path.

Seungmin pushes himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at Minho, only to be pressed flat against the bed by a firm palm to his chest and a sharp click of Minho’s tongue.

“Down, puppy.”

“I’m not a real dog!” Seungmin attempts a weak kick in Minho’s direction. Which proves futile because Minho’s grip on his ankle is ironclad. So strong in fact that Seungmin is powerless under him. He chooses to ignore that pesky little detail.

“Down,” Minho repeats, maddeningly calm.

Seungmin rolls his eyes but sinks back into the sheets with a huff. Minho’s mouth curls into an amused smile as his thumb begins rubbing slow, lazy circles over Seungmin’s ankle.

Then Minho slips back into his odd little mission, leaning close to Seungmin’s leg with quiet focus. His gaze travels slowly down a line of skin, then back up, then shifts a few inches to the side so he can start again. Every so often, Seungmin sees the top of Minho's head peek out from behind his calf before disappearing again.

Minho's hand glides down the length of his leg and pauses abruptly under the back of his knee. He makes a triumphant little noise, an eager chirp, like a cat who’s just scented a freshly opened churu packet. A fingertip gently taps at the edge of Seungmin's joint.

“Found a new one!” Minho peeks his head out to tell him, smiling brightly.

Seungmin wants to ask what. What is it that he’s looking for so diligently. What has Minho searching his skin with such precision. All those questions are immediately wiped away from his brain when Minho leans in to press a kiss to the tender spot. Then he does it again, and again and again.

The feeling of Minho’s lips on his skin is nothing new to Seungmin. But this is tender, more so than usual. It makes his heartbeat skitter.

“Pretty,” Minho murmurs into his skin. Seungmin can feel the curve of his smile more than he sees it. Minho’s thumb strokes over the spot he’s kissed repeatedly, as though sealing his kiss into the warmed skin.

By the time Minho lifts his head, Seungmin’s breath has gone thin. Minho's eyes are twinkling in a victory that Seungmin has no idea about.

“Wha...” Seungmin's voice comes out shaky. He tries again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to complete my constellation,” Minho replies easily.

Seungmin’s brows pinch, confusion knotting them together. He opens his mouth to push for answers, only to lose the thought entirely when Minho settles his leg securely over his shoulder. Seungmin's ankle hooks there naturally, like they have done this a thousand times. Minho turns his head and presses soft kisses to the nearest patch of skin, fingers sliding down the length of Seungmin’s calf in steady, soothing strokes.

“There’s a tiny mole on the back of your knee,” Minho murmurs, as if reporting on something precious. “The little sucker is tucked right into a corner, so I never saw it before.”

Another kiss. “But it can’t escape me.”

Seungmin can’t think past the warmth of Minho’s hands and the lazy circles being rubbed into his calf. The heat from his shower still clings to his skin, leaving him loose-limbed and pliant, his muscles softening under every slow sweep of Minho’s palm. He's comfortable… too comfortable. So the words hit him a moment late, slipping through the haze before snapping him into focus. His eyes fly open.

“You were looking at my moles?” he blurts, heat rushing up his neck because of all the things Minho could’ve been doing this wasn’t one he saw coming.

“What did you think I was doing?” Minho lifts an unimpressed brow, effortlessly raising Seungmin’s leg by the ankle to press a kiss directly to the bottom of his foot. It sends an electric shiver straight up Seungmin’s spine.

Ever since Minho has discovered the tiny mark on the arch of his foot, he’s been obsessed, pressing kisses there whenever he gets the chance. Seungmin still doesn’t understand why he treats it like something special.

Minho had even brought it up himself, declaring it his 'favorite part' of Seungmin’s body just to watch him sputter. Seungmin had shaken his head and brushed it off as teasing, never realizing Minho actually meant it.

“Hyung, put my leg down! And stop kissing my foot!” Seungmin cries, voice pitching embarrassingly high. Every caress sparks along his nerves like a live wire, leaving him twitchy and overwhelmed.

“How was I supposed to know what you were doing?”

Minho does put his foot down, but only after pressing one more kiss to the sensitive spot at the bottom of his foot, just to make Seungmin squirm.

“Why?” Seungmin asks, because well, what else can he say. He's not really sure his brain can make up full sentences right now.

Minho shifts smoothly, settling between Seungmin’s thighs to lean over him. His hands come up to bracket Seungmin’s head, forearms caging him in. His voice dips low, unfairly calm for someone whose ears are already tinged pink. “Why not?”

Typical Minho. Embarrassed, but never slowed by it. His ears can burn red and he’ll still lean in like he’s tempting fate.

“Why do you like my moles so much?” Seungmin huffs a soft laugh as he remembers the ridiculous words. He doesn’t usually question Minho, after all he’s just his weird, cute cat hyung. “What was it you said? You’ll connect them like constellations?”

And that is what finally makes Minho falter.

Minho huffs a small, embarrassed laugh, ears flaring a telltale, neon red. His gaze skitters away, lashes fluttering in that rapid blink-blink-blink he does. When he looks back, the mischief is gone from his eyes, replaced with something softer.

“Oh?” Seungmin breathes, sliding his arms up around Minho’s neck, drawing him close without giving him the option to escape.

His curiosity flares sharp and bright. If Minho thinks he’s going to keep a secret, this secret, Seungmin won’t allow it. Not when Minho has brought up his moles time and again, with that strange tenderness he pretends isn’t there.

"Hyung," Seungmin whispers, a little desperate, he wants to understand, "Tell me why."

Minho dips his head instead, nudging into Seungmin’s neck, breathing him in like it helps. A few heartbeats pass.

“It’s a little ridiculous,” Minho admits, and the rough edge to his voice surprises them both. His Minho hyung, who is shameless on principle, who delights in being impossible, looks almost shy.

“You say ridiculous things all the time,” Seungmin reminds him gently.

Minho hesitates only a beat longer before dragging in a breath, like he’s decided to just rip the bandage off.

“Well… it was— okay, look. I was out with Hyunjin and Yongbokkie one night for barbeque, and I was kind of drunk, honestly, and—”

“I’m not surprised,” Seungmin teases.

Minho rolls his eyes, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Can I talk?”

Seungmin gestures magnanimously. “By all means.”

Minho continues, cheeks blooming pink again. “You know how Hyunjin gets with all the romance crap. So he and Yongbok were talking about this… myth. That the places where you have moles are where your lovers in the past life kissed you the most.”

Seungmin stills. Everything goes quiet around his ears.

Minho presses on, rambling now, the words tumbling out as though he’s worried he’ll lose his nerve if he stops.

“So I was drunk, keep that in mind, and when I came back home, you were sleeping in my bed. Just sprawled out and looking stupidly pretty.” Minho's voice softens just enough to make Seungmin’s stomach flip. “And I saw that mole by your ear and thought… wow. Someone got to kiss you there in your past life." 

Minho leans down to glide his lips over the mole in the softest kiss.

Seungmin’s breath hitches.

“And that kind of made me mad,” Minho admits with a soft laugh, though his hand is tightening subtly against the sheets. “So I kissed you there. And then drunk me decided I wanted to kiss every mole on your body. I wanted—”

Seungmin doesn’t think he can breathe properly. His heartbeat rushes into his ears, a loud, steady pulse, like his body has decided to forget how to be normal all at once.

Minho's voice dips, almost shy again. “I wanted to chart a constellation. So I could find you in the next life too.”

Seungmin’s throat closes. He can’t speak. He’s not sure he even remembers how.

Minho barely pauses, too flustered to notice the way Seungmin’s eyes are already going glassy.

“And then,” Minho says, affronted, “one day, I see that random mark at the bottom of your foot!”

He gestures at said foot like it personally offended him.

“And it completely threw off my constellation, Kim Seungmin," Minho huffs, his hand finding Seungmin’s and lacing their fingers together against the sheets. "If I got it wrong, if I didn't know it was there—YAH!” His voice goes shrill. “How would I find you in our next life?!”

Seungmin lets out a shaky, watery laugh because how else is he supposed to react when the love of his life loves him enough to worry about finding him across lifetimes.

Seungmin drags Minho down by the collar and presses their foreheads together, voice trembling, “You... you’re unbelievable and insane, and so stupid and--”

Minho cups his cheek and stops the rest of his rant with a kiss. The soft press of his lips knocks the wind out of Seungmin, leaving a helpless sigh in its wake. Seungmin lets Minho suck his bottom lip, opening his mouth with Minho’s tongue swipes gently, asking for permission. They move slowly, practiced but still finding new ways to make each other lose control. And Minho does exactly that, a slow brush of his tongue against his has Seungmin moaning into the warm heat of his mouth. Minho breaks the kiss slowly, dragging Seungmin's bottom lip between his teeth when he pulls back.

“Seungmin ah, I- I know I don't say it often but I do love you,” Minho breathes, resting their foreheads together. Minho's voice trembles a little, “I- really really do love y-"

“I know hyung.” Seungmin blinks furiously, it does nothing to stop the tears from escaping his lashes. Minho quickly wipes them away with a sweep of his thumb. 

There’s a crooked smile tugging at Minho’s mouth. He rubs his cheek against Seungmin’s like an affectionate cat. “Yah, don’t cry. You’re such a crybaby.”

Seungmin punches his shoulder as best as he can. “You are so annoying, hyung!” His fingers curl into the soft fabric of Minho’s shirt, gripping tight as if that will steady him. “You can’t just say the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard and tell me not to cry!”

“Stupid cat hyung,” he sniffles when Minho tucks his face into Seungmin’s neck, warm breath brushing his skin. Minho’s fingers slide into his hair, combing through with a tenderness that only makes Seungmin’s heart throb harder.

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” Minho murmurs, lips finding the mole by Seungmin’s ear once more. “I told you they’re my favorite.”

"I thought you were joking!"

“My baby,” Minho coos, pulling back just enough to cup Seungmin’s face with both hands, thumbs sweeping under his eyes, “come here.”

Minho settles beside him, drawing Seungmin into his side. Seungmin goes easily, boneless with trust, his head resting against Minho’s chest out of habit. The steady rhythm beneath his ear feels familiar.

Minho’s thumb lingers on his cheek, tracing slow, absent arcs. Seungmin thinks he smiles. He thinks this is something that could happen again, somewhere else, some other time. Sleep takes him gently. He feels giddy with certainty that even if the world shifts and time starts over, Minho would know him. He always would.