#otll

noooo i’m so sorry ;;;;

they call him doctor lips, and jaewon is honestly curious.

not that a man like jaewon has any intention of indulging in said curiosities though, he’s not the type to be so brazen, to be so open, to be so straightforward. captain yang, the man a mountain, built like a star ( burning atoms and flashing florescence ), all strained sinew and muscle and eyes. he only watches usually, interested in a far-away sort of haze, amused only insofar as nobody asks him personally about it, but for someone so assertive with what he wants, what he strives for, he can be remarkably shy when it comes to issues such like this.

at least, that is, when he’s sober.

there are other factors too of course, such as the unique history between jaewon and jongsuk, an uncomfortable subject that jaewon would rather rip his own ears off than speak out loud about, a life-changing surgery that simultaneously saved his life and left him with nothing to live for. he holds a bitterness in his chest for the doctor, a burden, a drought, three years later and jaewon still tries to see past the stunted mess he knows he is because of jongsuk– or more aptly, because of the procedure jongsuk needed to perform on him.

but again, that’s only when he’s sober.

here in the mess hall, with the lights shimmering and the alcohol singing through everyone’s veins, voices rising high and animated, jaewon is too busy keeping himself upright, too busy laughing into his mug and coming up with even worse dad jokes than the ones before, too busy demanding loudly for tribute– all the other captains get it! he should get it! they should love him, goddamn it!

instead, they push him onto the floor, a heaped jumble of laughter and chair legs, his coat too long and heavy and bogging him down, his vision too fuzzy, his arms too wiggly. he shuffles around while he’s down there, twisting and squirming out of his coat while he lays sprawled, convinced it’s somehow also the reason why he is on the floor now. he’s hot too, the warmth from the whiskey pooling in his cheeks, his neck, his chest, and he’s happy and he likes it; he likes the glow of the room, he likes the laughter of his crew, even if they’re laughing at him, he likes the stars surrounding them, the way the ship is still floating, still gleaming, still flying. and everyone is together.

he must be down here too long though, since a moment passes and suddenly jongsuk is leaning over him, a small pretty smile on his face, but hesitation in his eyes, asking the captain if he’s okay, if he’s not hurt, can he lean up.

instead of that though, jaewon reaches up and grabs jongsuk by the front of his shirt, both hands fisting in his collar, to drag him down to jaewon’s level, the curiosity finally getting to him, the interest finally boiling over to a simmer. their lips connect in a supernova, the crash of their gums disjointed and disorganized and if jaewon were sober, he’d stop and right himself, but then again, if jaewon were sober, this wouldn’t be happening.

as it is, he just tilts his head and adjusts their lips, using his teeth to latch onto jongsuk’s lower lip, biting onto the soft flesh, the heat of their mouths flooding against each other, the breath knocked out of both of them, and jaewon holds him tight, doesn’t let go, doesn’t let loose. he tilts his head more and licks lightly at jongsuk’s teeth, tasting his lips again, tasting the alcohol, mina’s peach cobbler, the christmas cheer. they’re both a little shocked by the exchange once jaewon’s hands soften and jongsuk pulls away far enough to meet his gaze, but jaewon recovers faster than the good doctor; he grins a little sleepily, gold eyes glinting warmly. “you’re less innocent than you play at.”

jongsuk’s eyebrow lifts handsomely. “this from the guy who just kissed me?”