breathes
the amount of love he feels for him cannot be measured.
"hey," he bounds up to him cheerfully, and promptly attaches himself to his side. he's gotten so used to this. to having him take up half of his personal space. but he doesn't mind he concludes as he watches him pull his arm to wound around his waist. "hug me, please?"
so he wraps his arms around him and chuckles as he feels his nose burrow into his chest.
the amount of feels he has for him cannot be fathomed.
he doesn't think he deserves him.
it's because he deserves so much more. he's this wonderful creature that deserves to be loved above anything else, to be given the world because he's that great a being and he only deserves the best and the biggest. if it is possible to give him all the universes in this existence, he will. because he is the incarnation of perfection, the way he smiles and the way his eyes sparkle a living proof of that. he's an angel brought down from the heavens as a form of salvation for humankind. he's a buoy that anchors him to existing.
but he kisses him all the same. holds him close as the laws of physics permits, and it's enough to placate his doubting thoughts. the whispered words of love in his ear is enough. the surety in the tone of his voice that 'i'll never leave' and 'i love you forever and always' are true and it will ring in the spring winds and the autumn breeze and the winder gales and the summer storms 'til forevermore.
his feelings for him is scattered. very, very scattered. let's say his heart is a room.
in the far left corner are his feelings of doubt. how maybe, he's still not /the one/. how maybe, he'll get tired of him and one day he'll just want out and all of the times spent emotionally invested in him would've been for naught.
in the right side of the room along with the unruly bed are the feelings of passion and lust and heatheatheat and more fucking more. the all-consuming want to touch and feel and taste and be impossibly close. it's a side that gets visited more often than what is supposed to, but it's a side he wants just the same.
across it is the side of happiness and simplicity and contentment. all those times spent lying in each other's arms and humming and watching the clouds roll by.
the last side is the anger and the annoyance. how they are so alike that they have nothing to fight for, and how they are so /different/ that they have everything to fight over. words are thrown and names are called but in the end, they throw each other on the bed and everything is right once more.
but the middle. smack in the middle is probably what makes the most sense. love. the undying, ardent love for him and him only. how nothing can ever make him stop loving him because it's somehow already ingrained in his mind, altered into his own body and soul that he ///lives/// for him.
his room of emotions may be scattered, but he loves him all the same.
there are four seasons in a year: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. each season lasts three months. and every season he falls for him.
during spring he falls for his wonderment, how he's always so cool and refreshing and /alive/, just like spring.
during summer where he's just this endless ball of energy, fiery like the sun, and beautiful under the blazing blue sky and sparkling in the sweltering heat. he falls for him in between air conditioner-cold bedsheets, and ice-cream sweet kisses.
during autumn when every colour of spring and summer fade into shades of red and oranges and yellows. when he dyes his hair the colour of autumn, he falls for him all the more.
during winter when everything is devoid of colour and it's all black and white, he's the only thing above the white, an angel brought down unwilling by the heavens to save mankind. he has a smile that can save lives, stop fires, bring world peace, and make hearts skip beats. his hands are impossibly warm as they close around his wrists, but that's all it takes. he falls then.
no matter what the season, he'll always fall for him.
there’s one thing that sehun has a problem on. he can never stop wanting. needing. there’s this deep desire that bubbles deep in the pit of his stomach, and it claws at him and consumes him like this fire that can never be put out. it eats at him from the inside until he’s left gasping and panting, and the only thing he can taste is the ash and smoke in his lungs.
his never-ending want for him cannot be brought down. the fire cannot be put out.
but then lu han kisses him. and it’s like he’s been doused by ice-cold water and he’s left shivering under the watery sunlight, naked and bare and all for him to see. it’s beautiful and scary, the effect he has in him. the way his kisses and hugs and touches can /sate/ the monster in him.