Jun was staring, and he knew he shouldn't be staring that hard, but the drunk Yushan was even more captivating than the sober him.
There was something unfiltered, almost dangerous in the way his lips moved as he muttered words Jun could barely catch, slurred though they were.
The faint redness on those lips made them all the more prominent under the soft living room light, and Jun's mind spun uncontrollably, conjuring images he didn't dare voice aloud.
He saw himself pressing against those lips, felt imagined warmth, imagined the slow brush of Yushan's tongue against his own. Every subtle shift in Yushan's posture, every tilt of the head, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed... it all wove into Jun's thoughts, tugging him toward impulses he didn't fully want, even as he tried to resist.
