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It's a chilly night.
It's late into the night as well and Ryul should be fast asleep by now since they have a flight to catch early in the morning but instead he's here, leaning over the railing of the balcony of their hotel room, a cloud of smoke exiting his lips slowly.
He pulls out the cigarette from his lips and stares at the thin body and the little pathway for the flavoring to pass through. It's not something he'd usually go for but he saw it and instantly felt the need to get it so he did.
He rarely smokes nowadays. Has tried to stop because of his voice and also to not be a bad influence on Louis who looks up at him like he hung the stars. And also because a certain cat eyed man that won't kiss him if he tastes like smoke.
Just as he's thinking of how long it's been since he had a cigarette — about three weeks, it's so long ago he could almost count it as a relapse — the door behind him slides open and when he turns around, Ohyul is standing by the sliding doors and staring at his back.
He pulls the stick from his mouth and exhales the smoke. He waves at Ohyul to go back inside. “Get back in, you said you didn’t like the smell.”
Ohyul doesn't listen, walking out and joining him, shivering a little at the cool wind blowing into their faces and his exposed thighs and arms. His love for wearing matching pajama sets beats his need for staying warm. Ryul thinks he looks adorable in the floral print.
“Yeah but I want to be near you,” he mumbles as he crowds Ryul against the railing.
The other doesn't mind, letting Ohyul press his chest against his back and then wraps his arms around his middle, hugging him from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder.
The cigarette sizzles when he inhales and it burns the way he likes before he lets it escape through his teeth. He tries not to inhale too much before Ohyul starts complaining — he's always worried about his health — but so far all he seems to be doing is staring at the smoke escaping Ryul's mouth and checking his profile out with half lidded eyes.
Ryul wants to tease him and blow a little smoke at his face but he doesn't want to ruin the perfect little bubble they're in.
Ohyul does it for him.
“Can I try?”
Ryul turns his head to look at him. His eyes drift to his lips first before he looks back up at his eyes. “What? Why?” He giggles.
“I just want to try one puff.”
Ohyul has almost never smoked before. Maybe once or twice when he was in high school and wanted to try it for the sake of being cool before he figured it wasn't something he either liked or was good for him and stopped.
But that doesn't mean Ryul has ever smoked with him. Even at some of the parties they've been to with the boynextdoor members have had people passing around a blunt of weed but even then Ohyul didn't participate.
It feels a little like he trusts Ryul so much, enough to finally let him do this with him. Ryul only thinks about it for a total of three seconds before he nods, figuring if Ohyul was asking himself then he was sure about it. One puff won't damage his entire lungs.
“Alright.” He brings the half stick up to Ohyul's mouth and uses his fingers to pull down on his chin, his lip jutting out. “Open your mouth.” Ohyul does as he's told, keeping his eyes on Ryul instead of the cigarette.
He places it between his lips, motioning for Ohyul to close his mouth around where his lips just were and inhale.
“Good boy,” he mumbles, eyes moving between Ohyul's eyes and his mouth. The burning stick sizzles at the short inhale and Ryul immediately determines it's enough and pulls it out.
“Now breathe out carefully,” Ohyul follows his instructions, exhaling slowly, the smoke filling the air between them. “Just like that. Well done.” He chuckles and ruffles his hair.
Ohyul smacks his lips together at the aftertaste of the smoke and his brows shoot up to his bangs in surprise.
“Oh! It’s flavored.”
“Yeah, it's orange flavored. Did you like it?”
Ohyul grimaces as he moves his tongue around his mouth, still tasting the orange and the smoke. He clears his throat and shakes his head.
“Don’t like the burn. But I like the flavor,” fair enough. Ryul nods. Ohyul moves so he's standing by his side and leans into his space. “I also want a kiss.”
“Okay,” Ryul immediately puts out the stick on the metal ashtray hanging by the side and pulls Ohyul to the front of him. “C’mere.”
Kissing Ohyul when they both taste exactly the same feels a little different. Usually it's Ryul who tastes like smoke and when he swipes his tongue over Ohyul's, he gets the sharp taste of either the lollipop he's been sucking on these past few days or something else that just reminds Ryul of him, cutting through the smoke and invading his senses.
Ohyul's cold palm makes it's way to Ryul's waist, fingers nimbly lifting up the hem of his stretched out shirt so his hands can go around his waist, caressing the skin back and forth with his thumb. He knows Ryul is sensitive there, makes a show of it by pulling him closer so their crotches meet. Ryul whimpers into the space of their lips, Ohyul silencing it with a wet smack of his mouth over his.
He's lucky tonight because Ohyul would hardly kiss him if he's just coming back from a smoke break but he's been a bit lenient these days seeing how hard — though unconsciously — Ryul is trying to reduce and eventually cut off the bad habit.
When Ryul pulls back and stares up at him, his mouth slightly parted, a breath easing out of his chest with how hard he’d kissed him, all Ohyul can see in his eyes is the deep emotion he conveys for his person.
When people see him stare, they usually think he’s this tough guy but Ohyul never sees it like that. Only sees the adoration and carefully calculated looks that he gives to Ohyul’s facial features to pick at the things that make him upset, things that cause the downturn of his lips and make his eyes turn from soft to stern. And he takes it in stride and tries to fix it, make Ohyul flush or look away in slight shame or even make him smile and giggle and forget it ever happened.
“You're so beautiful,” Ryul says as he leans back in with a hand on his waist and kisses Ohyul's plush lips. Ohyul chuckles and looks away, suddenly shy from the sincerity of Ryul's words. “I'm serious. You're very pretty.”
“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning in to peck his cheek. “Hyung is pretty too.”
Then he hides his face in the crook of Ryul's neck, the cold tip of his nose brushing his neck and the younger can feel his cheek warm on his shoulder.
Ohyul is blushing.
“Come on, look at me,” Ryul urges with a chuckle, pushing up his head from his shoulder while Ohyul tries to avert his eyes. “Please.”
Ohyul's eyes land on his. His eyes are droopy from the sleep weighing on them, and when Ryul reaches a hand to pinch his cheek, he groans and pushes his hand away.
He looks so soft. The tip of his nose and apples of his cheeks are all red from the cold air blowing over them. Ryul think it's cute how easily Ohyul goes red wherever he's touched.
“One more kiss.”
Ohyul rolls his eyes. “That's what you always say.”
He grins. Ryul can never get enough. Sue him.