Part of the Journey Is The End

i'm sure everyone has their own idea of how shse's first kiss would go. if you're anything like me, you have several. here's one i've been mulling over for a while.

i'm a lover of slow burn, so for me, it doesn't happen for a while after suho wakes up. he's discharged from hospital and moderately settled back into "normal" life. (as settled as one can be, after a two year long coma anyway.) he's walking again, but there's a wheelchair stowed away in a corner at grandma's house for bad days and a cane for the better ones. he refuses either, insists he doesn't need them.

he's fine. he says, even after the first fall. after the second.

he's fine.

sieun says he should be more careful. sieun says he should listen to his doctor's advice. suho considers himself damn lucky sieun's apartment block is fancy enough to have an elevator, or sieun might never let him come over. but it does, so suho crashing at sieun's apartment any and every chance he gets. even if they have a group hangout with the eunjang boys and everybody else eventually trickles out the door, suho stays. maybe it's a little pathetic, to cling onto sieun like this when he has other friends, a life he's built without him. but he's the only friend suho has now, the only one who knew him before, knows him, aside from his grandma. it is pathetic, to take up so much of sieun's time, and he hates himself for it even as he takes the bus to sieun's and ignores a woman who offers him her seat. he'll take his aching legs as punishment for being such a lonely, pathetic loser. 

(but he can't make himself let go of him. not when the only good thing he has left.

besides, sieun never asks him to leave.)

so, back on track shall we. it's one of the post group-hangout days. everybody left hours ago, and suho is still there. it's late, and they're watching-but-not-really-watching tv on the couch, too tired to pay attention to whatever the tv station decides to put on at 2 am. they're warm, they're tired, but the good kind of tired, loose-limbed and fuzzy. suho turns his head to look at sieun, blinking at him as the tv light flickers across his face. sieun feels him looking and turns his head too. the light catches his eyes, lower lashlines glistening like they always do. like he might cry any moment, or like he just finished wiping away tears and left some behind. suho is stuck. he stares, more openly than he ever has, and he should look away now, he should turn back to the tv, but god, he's beautiful. sieun has always been, so, so beautiful.

and then he just. leans in.

blame the head trauma. blame the sleep exhaustion, either which way he kisses him, and when he pulls back a moment later, realising what he's done, he's frozen, waiting with bated breath for sieun to say something.

sieun stares, chest heaving, lips moving as if to speak, but he stays quiet.

then he twitches forward, and hesitantly rejoins their lips.

even as suho's thoughts dissolve into mush, he thinks it makes sense. not much does nowadays, brain trauma side effects and all. but this? sieun's mouth on his, the soft sigh that leaves his mouth as suho's hand slides up into his hair—

perfect sense. perfect.

they're both exhausted, out of it, so when the kiss deepens, it's uncoordinated, messy. sieun's hands tighten in suho's shirt when his hands stroke jaw, grip his neck, tug on his hair, drop to his waist and squeeze. sieun touches too, lighter touches, careful, even as he's falling apart underneath suho's hands. but suho can tell, even with how considerate sieun is, that he’s just as desperate. they're gentle with each other, even as they take, even as months, years of want catch up to the both of them all at once. because, suho realises, he has wanted this. he's wanted this the entire time.

slowly they slip down the couch, sieun on his back, suho caging him. suho pulls away, hovers, taking in the sight of sieun splayed out beneath him. his hair is a halo around his head, lips shining and bitten raw. those eyes, shining up at him. always, those eyes.

suho leans down and hugs him.

they're both breathing hard, but their heart rates slow as they stay there, holding each other tight. kissing was nice. suho wants to get back to kissing at some point, definitely. but holding him, chest to chest, skin to skin, the transfer of warmth, the echo of his breathing. this is nice too. this is very nice.

so warm like this, so comfortable, it doesn't take much for him to drift. before he slips away he mumbles an apology for being heavy. sieun doesn't respond, just cards gentle fingers through his hair and holds him tighter. suho hums, and feels the reverberations buzz across sieun's skin.

suho falls asleep like that, pillowed on sieun's chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. for the first time in a while, he isn't scared to surrender to the darkness. he's warm, he's safe, and he isn't alone anymore.

Your speech and your mission have always been about the dignified representation and respect, above all, of the same opportunities for the brown people, for people of color, not only from Mexico, from all of Latin America —  from all over the world, and now you’re here. You are K’uk'ulkan, you are Namor. You are a funko, you are all of this, so what do you expect it to mean for the representation in Latin America and in Mexico for everyone who is getting this important message?

Lo único qué quiero es qué la próxima vez qué los moritos y morritas se vean al espejo se sientan orgullosos de ese reflejo qué vean qué nunca hubo nada malo en ellos si no en los ojos qué los juzgaron si eso sucede estoy del otro lado.

jungkook on bts upcoming hiatus 

bonus: