yuwinner (Ao3)
Hwiyoung enjoys kissing Taeyang more than he really should, especially since they've never talked about it and it's become something like a game for them and everything's a mess.
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To Hwiyoung, Taeyang is beautiful in every sense of the word.
He's beautiful in the early mornings, when they're being shaken out of bed by the unforgiving calls of the alarm clock and his hair is rumpled and he's stumbling along the corridor half-asleep trying to get to the living room. He shines onstage, when he's dancing and singing and giving the camera that look. Taeyang is like an untouchable being, sculpted like Adonis and way too far out of Hwiyoung's league.
Chanhee laughs his ass off when he catches Hwiyoung staring. "You're like a clingy little puppy that follows him everywhere," he'll snicker, and Hwiyoung will glare at him and mumble a disconcerted "shut up".
"Youngkyun," Chanhee puts his hands on his hips, the look on his face saying he means business.
"Don't call me that," Hwiyoung replies sharply, swatting at the younger boy.
"Hwiyoung, whatever," Chanhee rolls his eyes, and Hwiyoung has to fight the urge to smack the little brat. "Why don't you just tell hyung that you've been harbouring all these undying cruel emotions for him?"
The tone is definitely a touch more sarcastic than what Hwiyoung would've liked to hear, but he gets the message just fine. "He doesn't like me that way," he dismisses the mere thought, because why would Taeyang (gorgeous, beautiful Taeyang) like Hwiyoung?
Chanhee downright snorts in derision upon hearing that. "Of course. I'm sure a ton of people like to platonically push each other against the wall and stick their tongues down each others' throats as friends. Makes sense."
It doesn't, not when Chanhee phrases it like that, but Hwiyoung has always followed the school of thought that Chanhee is pure evil, and so he refuses to give himself false hope.
He settles for shoving Chanhee so hard he falls off his chair, and leaves it at that.
.....
Hwiyoung has never in his eighteen years of living thought he'd be in this situation, but well. Here he is, enjoying himself no less. Sometimes Hwiyoung really hates his prefrontal cortex.
It's really hot in here, he thinks distantly, as he's pushed back against the wall in their changing room at the music station. It's a small, enclosed area and Hwiyoung can feel the tension buzzing in the air, can very clearly hear his own soft sigh when Taeyang digs his fingers into Hwiyoung's hips.
"They're gonna know we're in here," Hwiyoung mumbles, but he swallows his half-hearted protests when Taeyang leans in and slides their mouths together.
Kissing Taeyang is fun. It makes Hwiyoung's toes tingle and makes his skin flush, the air rushing out from his lungs like he's been tasered. It's very difficult to even remember to think of anything else when Taeyang's there, lips burning against Hwiyoung's own and body so tangibly warm.
Taeyang breaks away after a period of time that Hwiyoung can't even think to keep track of (he really should, they have to leave for the van soon), and the younger briefly wonders if that's it for today, but then Taeyang's lips are trailing down his jawline and oh, latching onto Hwiyoung's neck.
He's very careful not to use teeth, not to suck hard enough to leave a bruise, because they've still got a fansign next and neither of them want to be on the receiving end of the coordi's wrath. Taeyang just lays kisses across Hwiyoung's skin, peppering his collarbone, and for some godforsaken uncontrollable reason Hwiyoung lets out an embarrassing little whimper.
