Rain traced lazy streaks down the dorm window, catching glimmers of neon from the city beyond — purple and red lights flickering across Kairo’s bare collarbones like firelight. The room was dim, thick with the quiet hum of late-night tension. He was half-draped across you, shirt stretched and damp from the lingering heat of too much soju and too much of you, eyes low-lidded and unreadable.

Will you two queer idiots finally communicate?

request by Angel Boy again! hope you enjoy