Consciousness comes to him in fits and starts. Kihyun is aware of small, impossible things first: dust particles landing on his eyelashes, the way the light is filtering in behind him through a slit in the closed curtains, Hoseok's sleeping breaths ghosting over his lips, the pulse at his wrist matching the beating in his chest. He inhales, exhales, and Hoseok's arms circle around his waist tighter, safer, closer. He hums against Hoseok's chest.
"If you're awake," Hoseok mumbles, his voice so low it rumbles with every word, "let's pretend you aren't, so we can stay like this for a little bit longer."
Kihyun presses his lips to the soft skin under Hoseok's collarbone. He is naked -- they both are -- save for the studded collar around his neck, the covers sliding over their bare legs like water. Kihyun imagines they are in a lake, their own personal paradise, floating on the surface with each other, the bed an island. He read somewhere that there used to be a lake so saturated with salt that you could walk on it. Maybe that could be their lake. He imagines the water lapping at their feet, the sun warming their skin.
"How long?" Kihyun asks. "It's almost evening."
"Shh, shh," Hoseok says. He tries to bring a finger to Kihyun's lips with his eyes still closed, but he accidentally nearly puts it up Kihyun's nose instead. Their soft laughter mingles in the quiet air. Kihyun huddles closer, his lips against Hoseok's finger, smiling. "Time isn't real here," Hoseok continues, his voice resonant. "We've escaped everything. We could stay here forever."
"Here," Kihyun says. "On this little bed?"
Hoseok nods. Kihyun sees him open one eye to peek at Kihyun's skeptical expression.
"How will we eat?" Kihyun asks, grinning, teasing. He runs his hand through Hoseok's wild blond hair. The color in it is starting to fade, the master's roots growing in slowly. Kihyun traces the shell of Hoseok's ear between his forefinger and thumb. "And take care of other needs?"
"Do you enjoy shredding apart my dreams?" Hoseok asks. But he's smiling. He's always smiling around Kihyun, now, like he can't help it. It isn't the smile he uses with clients and guests, either. It's softer, rounded at the ends, and as fragile as dried flower petals. Kihyun loves this smile; he thinks he'd do just about anything to keep seeing it.
"Of course not," Kihyun says, "but all dreams must come to an end someday."
The smile falters, and Kihyun's heart skips a beat. Hoseok's hand over his hip tightens as he kneads Kihyun's muscle there, reviving a shallow, forgotten ache.
"Not all dreams, I hope," Hoseok says. Hoseok kisses him, and Kihyun wonders if he ever awoke at all, because surely reality would never allow him to feel this much bliss.
.
Minhyuk dabs a light cream over Kihyun's cheek bones, the rosy color staining the pads of Minhyuk's fingers. He sticks his tongue out between his teeth as he works, deep in concentration, and Kihyun isn't sure if it's a habit Minhyuk picked up from Kihyun or one that Kihyun picked up from Minhyuk. His skin pebbles under the thin sweater he's wearing when he hears wind howling outside, and his cheeks are starting to ache.
"Stop smiling," Minhyuk says softly. "You don't need to anymore."
"Okay," Kihyun says, allowing the smile to drop from his face. He feels even colder without it, like someone had ripped a mask from over his skin. Minhyuk works without speaking, applying makeup onto Kihyun to draw attention to his eyes, lightly contouring the hollows of his cheeks, his jaw, his nose. The caress of the soft bristles of the brush make Kihyun's eyelids flutter closed.
"Smile again," Minhyuk says.
Kihyun does, anticipating the feeling of the brush over his cheeks, but nothing comes. He raises an eyebrow in question, eyes still closed.
