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Yoosung knew that the opportunity to spend the night at Seven's house was rare, because of his work and even now, he was staying there to avoid possible danger (it had taken some convincing and some decreasing reality to Yoosung's masculinity, but he agreed anyway). It was for the greater good, and MC had worried so much about his health and pushed that he do it that he had to agree.
But while it was for his safety, he immediately regretted going the second he opened the door. Seven was there, smiling and laughing the moment the door swung open. Yoosung's instincts had him smiling back instantly as he walked through the door.
Now, it was the next morning and Yoosung came out of Seven's bedroom (he had argued with every fiber in his body against it but the hacker wouldn't let him sleep anywhere else) to find Seven asleep on his couch in the living room. The laptop was only on the edge of his lap and his headphones only covered one ear, and he was very slumped. The dark circles under his eyes that constantly worried Yoosung (even though he usually had the same ones) were apparent.
Yoosung didn't know why, but out of everything he saw, two things seemed to become much brighter in his eyes when he saw Seven sleeping there--the jacket that was loosely clung to the other's body and his black-and-yellow striped glasses that had slid down his nose in his slump. The weird moe gods were sending him a message.
Steal his clothes and put them on. Steal his clothes and put them on, Yoosung.
(Or that could be the voice of himself inside his head, but who was he to argue against either?)
It was a swift and clean take--Seven was neither a light nor deep sleeper, so he had to be careful, but not that careful. Even though he wasn't accomplishing much, he still felt a grin on his face when he took the items and left Seven with his red undershirt and a clear face.
There was a small mirror in Seven's room, just big enough for Yoosung to see his whole face in it. He leaned it against some weird painting on Seven's way-too-bright red dresser and grabbed his own bag before changing looks.
"...And now, glasses," Yoosung hummed, gently grabbing the expressive glasses by their rim and placing them on his face, his hair framing around them instantly. He took a step back to try and look at the mirror, but then he just took out his phone and used that instead.
He held the camera above him just enough so that he could see his whole outfit---and he couldn't deny the blush on his face. He had donned the signature glasses, jacket and even a similar pair of blue jeans that he happened to have in his night-over bag. His shirt had to stay his own, though.
Yoosung took a quick picture at that angle before looking the mirror again and quickly setting his phone down. He looked himself in the eyes and posed.
"I am the defender of justice, Seven-Oh-Seven! No, wait, Superman Yoosung!" he declared, raising a saluting hand to his forehead and the other to his hip.
He paused.
"Man, that sounds so bad when I say it. How does he make it sound so fun?" he moaned, crossing his arms over the surprisingly nice feeling fabric of the jacket. He pushed the glasses higher onto his nose and leaned into the mirror a little to get a better look at himself.
"I kind of like how I look in his jacket," he mumbled to himself, tugging down the sleeves before hugging himself deeper into the jacket. It almost felt like Seven was holding him, which made his face flare up. "H-His glasses look cool, too."
He shook his head and glanced down at what he wore for bottoms, "I don't know how I feel about these jeans, though. Too loose..."
As Yoosung was hugging himself and murmuring comments, Seven walked in and leaned against the doorframe, greeting him with a sleepy slur, "Hey, Yoosung, did you move my box of--"
Seven stopped, and Yoosung froze. There was a silence as Yoosung's upper body turned to Seven, who was sans his glasses and jacket with sleep-messed hair. He swore the birds stopped tweeting outside in that moment.
But then, before he knew it, he was really being held by Seven and felt the hacker nuzzling his hair. "Yoosung-ie is cosplaying as me! Does he strive to be me? He's so cute!
"Get off Seven!" the smothered, embarrassed student wailed in naught, grasping onto the arm Seven had around his chest and trying to pull him off. Seven only chuckled in a very high octave and squealed.
"I never want to let go!" Seven cried back, fully burying his face into the cloud of blonde hair. "Yoosung is just too cute to let go of-"
It was then that Yoosung slipped under his arm and truly felt how red hot his face was. He proceeded to turn his head and hide into the jacket a little, his shoulders rising in humility subconsciously as he shut his eyes.
"I just wanted to see how it felt," he mumbled, feeling the last drop of blood in his body go to his face. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes--he felt so embarrassed and Seven's teasing made him want to delve into a different dimension and never return.
Seven cooed quietly to himself.
Even though Yoosung had just escaped from his grip, he felt Seven's arms around him once more. But this time, the touch didn't feel as tight and his face was buried into the clothed chest.
"That's perfectly okay, Yoosung-ie. I didn't mean it like that," Seven hummed as he squeezed the smaller frame of the college boy, "I think you can even keep my jacket, but I need my glasses back, okay?"
Yoosung was completely caught off-guard at the new comforting tone, but he never heard anything besides his own mother's voice that made him calm down so quickly. He definitely still heard traces of humiliating adoration, but Seven was toning it down for him, which made him very happy.
It took him a second, but he nodded and pulled away from him (he had put his arms around Seven in return at some point, but he wasn't sure when) then took off the glasses and lifted them--
"Never mind, keep them forever, I can buy a new pair," he heard Seven say and looked up. Seven was staring at him with such a dreamy, captivated look for a second that it almost made Yoosung jump back (where he probably would've hit the dresser). But he saw Seven blink out of it (though he definitely still saw some sort of blush on the other's face) and stood still, bringing the glasses back down and slowly putting them back on.
"It's because Yoosung looks like a hipster with my glasses on," Seven remarked and looked away, seemingly embarrassed before he smirked at the end of his sentence. Yoosung frowned and lightly hit him on the chest. He walked past Seven to go behind him and slipped off the glasses once more before sliding them onto Seven's head.
"You need these to see! And I'm going to make breakfast right now so you don't run to your Honey Buddha Chips instead!" Yoosung announced, promptly speed-walking out of the room and folding the sleeves as he entered the kitchen. He heard the creaking noise of the couch in the living room, along with the T.V being switched on.
"You should practice making an omelet to get better. I'll eat it no matter what, so don't worry!" Seven called, Yoosung feeling himself blush in response before getting to work on making omelets.
He liked the feeling of the jacket swishing around as he walked around the kitchen.