1949, Seoul.
Seonghwa's room is a special kind of suffocating, he thinks.
An upstairs dorm room the size of a whole matchbox, while Seoul crawls through summer, one creaky ceiling fan that does nothing but drive hot air down at them.
And Seonghwa.
Leaning over a basin to splash some water over his face, he always gets his ears too, and the back of his neck - there he goes, stretching his neck to one side so his wet palm can slide between his shirt collar and his flushed skin.
He hasn't been so close to him, alone, since that afternoon.
So close.
The door shut.
Just a couple of feet between him and Seonghwa's sticky skin.
"You going to sit down?"
Hongjoong blinks.
Seonghwa's towelling himself dry and looking at him, puzzled.
"Yeah," he mumbles, and he takes a step forward and drops down onto the edge of Seonghwa's bed.
He thinks that was natural.
He hopes.
Seonghwa's smiling at him now, tossing the towel at his head.
It catches him square in the face and he's idiotically glad for it, one dumb laugh slipping from his lips.
It makes the tension seep from his shoulders, and in the same fluid movement he pulls the towel off his head and grabs Seonghwa by the wrist to draw him close.
He's close.
Standing between his legs with his wrist caught in Hongjoong's hand.
He's looking down at him, fond.
His smile is feathered at the edges, damp hair framing his face and there's water still clinging to his lashes and eyebrows and he doesn't think anyone should look so good.
"You going to say anything?" He says, soft.
"Yeah," Hongjoong mumbles again.
He lets one palm rest gently on Seonghwa's hip, draws him even closer, till his knees hit the edge of the bed, between Hongjoong's legs.
He has this urge to pull him down into his lap, sit him down in his lap, but he doesn't think Seonghwa would like that.
Both hands on his waist now, on the small of his back, holding him so close Seonghwa has to rest a hand on his shoulder to keep his balance.
God, he thinks.
He has to kiss him.
It's tying his belly up in knots, he's got to kiss him.
He reaches up to curl his fingers at the nape of his neck, halfway rising from where he's sat, and Seonghwa just sort of meets him in the middle, his breath warm, his lips warm, his whole body warm in his arms.
YOU ARE READING
↱SEMPITERNAL↲ ⇾seongjoong⇽
FanfictionA story where Hongjoong and Seonghwa find each other in three lifetimes. "What if I said I'd find you in lifetimes to come? What if I loved you in all my lifetimes past? Wouldn't that be lovely?" "I think I'd say you're a god awful poet."
