He Stole My Knight • Woosan •

1

"damn," hwan mumbles under his breath as he eyes his boyfriend's silhouette in the mirror. he doesn't understand why wooyoung will only dress like this for a party—he literally looks like a full course meal, and hwan swallows thickly at the thought of devouring him right then and there.

"i can feel you eye-fucking me from back here," wooyoung says across the room. hwan looks back at him and isn't even acknowledged, wooyoung simply continuing to pull his shirt over his head and straighten out the wrinkles. once he finishes, he shuffles in front of hwan and stands on his toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"yeah? have you seen how good you look right now?"

wooyoung smirks and slithers around hwan's side to search for his boots amid the mess covering the floor. the room isn't even theirs; it belongs to somebody in the frat house, but hwan and wooyoung were shoved in there to get ready. hwan's older brother was the president of the house, so he got "special treatment", as he liked to call it. (wooyoung would argue that he's only babied because the rest of the house adores him and would kill his brother if he didn't let hwan visit once and a while)

"now where did i put my boots?" wooyoung whines. he scrunches his face up in a pout and puts his hands on his hips, staring at the floor.

and how in the world hwan is supposed to pay attention to anything wooyoung says when he's dressed like that is beyond him. he's surprised wooyoung's wearing such tight-fitting jeans that only let little segments of his thighs breathe when they spill out of the rips, but god, the way his collarbones are peeking between the collar of his shirt and his neck is driving hwan absolutely crazy.

"you actual horny dingbat," wooyoung mutters.

hwan looks up at wooyoung's face and notices how red he is and the way he looks nervous under his stare.

"right." he clears his throat and swallows back his dignity. "they should be next to my bag." hwan grins as he watches wooyoung practically run across the room and squat next to his bag. the boots sit next to it, and wooyoung smiles in content as he sits on the cluttered carpet and pulls the shoes on.

hwan watches and waits in silence for wooyoung to finish putting his boots on before he smiles and opens his arms. it's an invitation, wooyoung realizes, for a hug, and who is he to turn down such an offer?

wooyoung hops up from the floor and bounds into his boyfriend's chest with a content sigh. he places his head against it and breathes in the scent of hwan's cologne—it smells expensive and like it would have a french name, but wooyoung knows hwan doesn't have that kind of money.

but boy, does he want to drown in it regardless of how expensive it is or how shitty the name happens to sound. and then hwan takes him by the waist and pulls them apart, much to his dismay.

"i think you should help me with some makeup. since that's like, your major and all?" hwan sounds a little unsure, which is weird for him, and he looks like he's anticipating for wooyoung to say no or something worse (what could be worse, i have no idea).

who is wooyoung to deny someone of receiving his artwork, especially his own boyfriend?

"of course. how about we migrate to the bathroom though; i'd hate to make the mess in here worse."

"i really don't think mingi ca—" hwan gets cut off by a hand wrapping around his wrist and rather sharply yanking him towards the door.

the two walk down the hall, their footsteps nothing in sound compared to the people talking on the main floor below. hwan thinks that his brother and all of his roommates could throw their own party and get just as shitfaced as they would at one of jackson's parties, but after what happened last time he even went out, he has no room to talk.