[even though nam soon notices, he doesn't dare say anything about it. maybe it's because for him... there's still something embarrassing about it enough for him to not even know how to approach teasing heung soo.
it goes two ways, because the feeling of heung soo's lips against his own isn't one that's really faded yet. there's still a slightly invigorating tingle to them, one that has him sucking lightly on his lower lip... as if that will somehow change it. it's not even that he doesn't like it, of course—no, it's really the opposite. heung soo is the one person on this earth (or... their earth and this world) who can make him feel comfortable. he's the only person that knows all of nam soon's ins and outs, what brings him comfort and what upsets him. nobody else knows what really makes him laugh or brings him any sort of excitement...
so yeah, it's embarrassing. it's as embarrassing as it was when he realized after their first kiss that he really liked it, that he really liked heung soo in a way that "best friends" just doesn't seem to quantify. he still doesn't know what to call it, that he likes these things, that he likes heung soo but aside from that acknowledgement and a slight increase of affection—nothing's changed at all. he doesn't know what it is, but he likes it. he likes it, and he's grateful for the fact that heung soo is still here and hasn't left him behind. for the fact that after everything from funerals to broken limbs, from faking hatred to reconciliation, from seoul to here, from awkward makeouts to being left without a voice to hear... that heung soo hasn't left him behind. and maybe that's why he doesn't say anything, why he just watches heung soo prepare the meal with a bit of affection in his gaze.
—which averts only slightly as heung soo brings the food over. not that it matters, because there's a smile that creeps on his lips when that bastard squeezes next to him, and there's not much in the way of hesitation when nam soon shifts his body weight to lean against the other. there doesn't need to be any words about it, and that's what makes it natural for them... an unexpected, but pleasant evolution of their co-existence.]
Smells good. [yes, he'll opt to talk about the food instead as he picks up his chopsticks. of course, what else could he say when his stomach is rumbling, craving the food that he denied himself while in a state of catatonic panic. even the worst food would probably smell good right now... but this is ramen, and heung soo's definitely made enough of it up to this point for it to taste as good as it smells.]
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it goes two ways, because the feeling of heung soo's lips against his own isn't one that's really faded yet. there's still a slightly invigorating tingle to them, one that has him sucking lightly on his lower lip... as if that will somehow change it. it's not even that he doesn't like it, of course—no, it's really the opposite. heung soo is the one person on this earth (or... their earth and this world) who can make him feel comfortable. he's the only person that knows all of nam soon's ins and outs, what brings him comfort and what upsets him. nobody else knows what really makes him laugh or brings him any sort of excitement...
so yeah, it's embarrassing. it's as embarrassing as it was when he realized after their first kiss that he really liked it, that he really liked heung soo in a way that "best friends" just doesn't seem to quantify. he still doesn't know what to call it, that he likes these things, that he likes heung soo but aside from that acknowledgement and a slight increase of affection—nothing's changed at all. he doesn't know what it is, but he likes it. he likes it, and he's grateful for the fact that heung soo is still here and hasn't left him behind. for the fact that after everything from funerals to broken limbs, from faking hatred to reconciliation, from seoul to here, from awkward makeouts to being left without a voice to hear... that heung soo hasn't left him behind. and maybe that's why he doesn't say anything, why he just watches heung soo prepare the meal with a bit of affection in his gaze.
—which averts only slightly as heung soo brings the food over. not that it matters, because there's a smile that creeps on his lips when that bastard squeezes next to him, and there's not much in the way of hesitation when nam soon shifts his body weight to lean against the other. there doesn't need to be any words about it, and that's what makes it natural for them... an unexpected, but pleasant evolution of their co-existence.]
Smells good. [yes, he'll opt to talk about the food instead as he picks up his chopsticks. of course, what else could he say when his stomach is rumbling, craving the food that he denied himself while in a state of catatonic panic. even the worst food would probably smell good right now... but this is ramen, and heung soo's definitely made enough of it up to this point for it to taste as good as it smells.]