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mother may i | r | 1169 | kaiyeol
for brownie as part of the many kisses meme.
It's four AM.
Jongin and Chanyeol have been out literally all night, forgetting conveniently the fact that they've both got school in the morning, at the behest of Baekhyun, Sehun and Jongdae, who say that their new favorite thing is tagging. Collectively they went through about twenty cans of spray, and Jongin mumbles something at the group's separation about the ozone layer crying, which makes Chanyeol laugh the hardest.
The night winding down, both of them exhausted, Jongin and Chanyeol break away from the group with little more than a 'see you later', link elbows and make their way to a twenty four-hour convenience store to head off what Chanyeol calls a 'dead-ass craving for ice cream'. The heat of oncoming summer is weighing them down, a thick mix of heat and humidity. Both their clothes reek of spray paint and stale weed and a little bit of beer that Baekhyun had brought (okay, stolen, a proud confession of his) and they're sweating through their hoodies, but hey, anonymity is the key factor, right? Chanyeol's still wearing a bandana over his mouth to keep from inhaling fumes, but at this point Jongin's willing to bet he's just trying to stave off smelling the both of them together.
The clerk behind the counter gives them odd looks; they're both so tired their eyes are red, and the drink and drugs don't help any, and the guy must think they're blazed out of their mind. That, coupled with the fact that every time the two of them so much as exchange glances they fall into a miniature fit of giggles, is enough to make any officer of the peace with half-value to his badge suspicious. A clerk's just a regular citizen, what's he supposed to think?
They buy two popsicles apiece, check out slowly, moving as if trapped in a sea of warm molasses. Chanyeol pays in cash for the lot of the ice cream, not even letting Jongin make a move, one hand around Jongin's wrist and keeping him in place as he uses the other to fish his wallet from the pocket of his oversized sweatshirt. The clerk's still giving them the eye as they exit, a bag of popsicles swinging between them -- Jongin can feel the man's eyes boring holes into the back of his skull.
They walk mostly in quiet, enjoying their ice cream and, more importantly, a piece of the night that no one else can capture, that no one else will know about save for them. Jongin suckles on a chocolate popsicle, Chanyeol on cherry, and Jongin can't help but cast eyes at the way the treat turns Chanyeol's already-tinted mouth a deep shade of red. He almost says it right then -- "hyung can I kiss you?" -- but stops himself in the nick of time, leading the way into a little park not too far from his own neighborhood in an attempt to distract himself from his foolish and decidedly base urges.
They park themselves in swings, elbows brushing, shoulders touching as they sag sleepily in the seats. Chanyeol's long legs propel him forward by inches and by miles, in Jongin's estimation, and he watches the utter lack of grace the elder has when it comes to…well, moving in general, but kicking out to push himself just that little bit higher. It's fascinating, to say the least.
"Hey, what're you staring at?" That deep rumble of a voice has Jongin snapping out of his stupor, shaking his head to clear his thoughts so that they don't come spilling from his mouth. "You can take a picture, if you want."
Jongin titters anxiously, shaking his head again, gentler this time. "Maybe later. Thanks for making me come out here tonight, I had a lot of fun."
Chanyeol hums in agreement. "I thought you'd like it. Better than staying at home on a Sunday night, right?"
Nodding, Jongin turns his attentions and, subsequently, his mouth back to the chocolate popsicle melting in his hand. He practically moans at the taste of chocolate flooding his mouth and -- oh, Chanyeol is staring. Jongin has the decency to blush and look anywhere but directly into the wide eyes that watch him with obvious, vested interest.
"It's good," he says, vacant, stare trained at the sand beneath their feet. "Really good. I haven't had one of these in forever."
Chanyeol switches back to normal so quickly it almost scares Jongin. "I'm glad I could help you out." Then he takes a giant chomp from the end of his popsicle, flashing a red-and-white grin in its wake, and Jongin is definitely scared now. "You have to get home soon, don't you? I don't want your parents freaking out or anything--"
"Oh, no, it's okay," Jongin supplants, hoping not to hear the end of that sentence, the last thing he wants to talk about right now is his family. "As long as I'm in for breakfast I'm okay. We have time." The way the word 'we' comes out of his mouth so flippantly makes his heartbeat quicken, his mouth dry out. "Besides, I…kind of don't want this to be over."
Then a certain type of daring takes over him, and the words are spilling out of him before he even has time to stop them: "Hyung…can I kiss you?"
He clamps both hands over his mouth, accidentally dragging the popsicle across his pinched-shut left eye in the process, effectively smearing chocolate in his eyebrow. He goes to wipe it off with an already-sticky set of fingertips, but --
Chanyeol's ever-present hand snakes forth, takes Jongin by the wrist, stops him from cleaning himself up. "You mean it?" he asks, all eager, and Jongin's too embarrassed to try denial, so he nods instead, biting on his lower lip, using the resulting pain in an attempt to quell the roaring of his blood rushing in his ears. "Okay, good, I've been waiting for you to ask." Chanyeol digs the toes of his sneakers into the sand, uses that leverage to scoot himself closer and leaving Jongin to have the bravery to close the remaining gap between them.
He does, lips quivering, a tight ball of nerves building in his chest, belly and throat. His eyes, heavy with sleep as well as affection, trace the shape of Chanyeol's mouth, and he decides aloud, "fuck it," lurching forward and pressing his jittery lips to Chanyeol's. At first it is a chaste gesture, a slight slide, a tender movement, but then Jongin gets daring, nipping softly at Chanyeol's upper lip. The boldness of it all gets to be too much when Chanyeol's tongue sweeps across the plush of Jongin's lower lip, mingling the taste of cherry with chocolate, and Jongin draws away, the barest hints of a laugh playing at his lips.
"I've been waiting to do that," he confesses, breathless, his entire frame quaking to the point that it impedes his speech.
Chanyeol observes this movement, however slight, and cocks his head, beaming all the while. "You're still scared?" he asks, comforting rather than teasing. "C'mere, let's try again, until you're not."
for brownie as part of the many kisses meme.
It's four AM.
Jongin and Chanyeol have been out literally all night, forgetting conveniently the fact that they've both got school in the morning, at the behest of Baekhyun, Sehun and Jongdae, who say that their new favorite thing is tagging. Collectively they went through about twenty cans of spray, and Jongin mumbles something at the group's separation about the ozone layer crying, which makes Chanyeol laugh the hardest.
The night winding down, both of them exhausted, Jongin and Chanyeol break away from the group with little more than a 'see you later', link elbows and make their way to a twenty four-hour convenience store to head off what Chanyeol calls a 'dead-ass craving for ice cream'. The heat of oncoming summer is weighing them down, a thick mix of heat and humidity. Both their clothes reek of spray paint and stale weed and a little bit of beer that Baekhyun had brought (okay, stolen, a proud confession of his) and they're sweating through their hoodies, but hey, anonymity is the key factor, right? Chanyeol's still wearing a bandana over his mouth to keep from inhaling fumes, but at this point Jongin's willing to bet he's just trying to stave off smelling the both of them together.
The clerk behind the counter gives them odd looks; they're both so tired their eyes are red, and the drink and drugs don't help any, and the guy must think they're blazed out of their mind. That, coupled with the fact that every time the two of them so much as exchange glances they fall into a miniature fit of giggles, is enough to make any officer of the peace with half-value to his badge suspicious. A clerk's just a regular citizen, what's he supposed to think?
They buy two popsicles apiece, check out slowly, moving as if trapped in a sea of warm molasses. Chanyeol pays in cash for the lot of the ice cream, not even letting Jongin make a move, one hand around Jongin's wrist and keeping him in place as he uses the other to fish his wallet from the pocket of his oversized sweatshirt. The clerk's still giving them the eye as they exit, a bag of popsicles swinging between them -- Jongin can feel the man's eyes boring holes into the back of his skull.
They walk mostly in quiet, enjoying their ice cream and, more importantly, a piece of the night that no one else can capture, that no one else will know about save for them. Jongin suckles on a chocolate popsicle, Chanyeol on cherry, and Jongin can't help but cast eyes at the way the treat turns Chanyeol's already-tinted mouth a deep shade of red. He almost says it right then -- "hyung can I kiss you?" -- but stops himself in the nick of time, leading the way into a little park not too far from his own neighborhood in an attempt to distract himself from his foolish and decidedly base urges.
They park themselves in swings, elbows brushing, shoulders touching as they sag sleepily in the seats. Chanyeol's long legs propel him forward by inches and by miles, in Jongin's estimation, and he watches the utter lack of grace the elder has when it comes to…well, moving in general, but kicking out to push himself just that little bit higher. It's fascinating, to say the least.
"Hey, what're you staring at?" That deep rumble of a voice has Jongin snapping out of his stupor, shaking his head to clear his thoughts so that they don't come spilling from his mouth. "You can take a picture, if you want."
Jongin titters anxiously, shaking his head again, gentler this time. "Maybe later. Thanks for making me come out here tonight, I had a lot of fun."
Chanyeol hums in agreement. "I thought you'd like it. Better than staying at home on a Sunday night, right?"
Nodding, Jongin turns his attentions and, subsequently, his mouth back to the chocolate popsicle melting in his hand. He practically moans at the taste of chocolate flooding his mouth and -- oh, Chanyeol is staring. Jongin has the decency to blush and look anywhere but directly into the wide eyes that watch him with obvious, vested interest.
"It's good," he says, vacant, stare trained at the sand beneath their feet. "Really good. I haven't had one of these in forever."
Chanyeol switches back to normal so quickly it almost scares Jongin. "I'm glad I could help you out." Then he takes a giant chomp from the end of his popsicle, flashing a red-and-white grin in its wake, and Jongin is definitely scared now. "You have to get home soon, don't you? I don't want your parents freaking out or anything--"
"Oh, no, it's okay," Jongin supplants, hoping not to hear the end of that sentence, the last thing he wants to talk about right now is his family. "As long as I'm in for breakfast I'm okay. We have time." The way the word 'we' comes out of his mouth so flippantly makes his heartbeat quicken, his mouth dry out. "Besides, I…kind of don't want this to be over."
Then a certain type of daring takes over him, and the words are spilling out of him before he even has time to stop them: "Hyung…can I kiss you?"
He clamps both hands over his mouth, accidentally dragging the popsicle across his pinched-shut left eye in the process, effectively smearing chocolate in his eyebrow. He goes to wipe it off with an already-sticky set of fingertips, but --
Chanyeol's ever-present hand snakes forth, takes Jongin by the wrist, stops him from cleaning himself up. "You mean it?" he asks, all eager, and Jongin's too embarrassed to try denial, so he nods instead, biting on his lower lip, using the resulting pain in an attempt to quell the roaring of his blood rushing in his ears. "Okay, good, I've been waiting for you to ask." Chanyeol digs the toes of his sneakers into the sand, uses that leverage to scoot himself closer and leaving Jongin to have the bravery to close the remaining gap between them.
He does, lips quivering, a tight ball of nerves building in his chest, belly and throat. His eyes, heavy with sleep as well as affection, trace the shape of Chanyeol's mouth, and he decides aloud, "fuck it," lurching forward and pressing his jittery lips to Chanyeol's. At first it is a chaste gesture, a slight slide, a tender movement, but then Jongin gets daring, nipping softly at Chanyeol's upper lip. The boldness of it all gets to be too much when Chanyeol's tongue sweeps across the plush of Jongin's lower lip, mingling the taste of cherry with chocolate, and Jongin draws away, the barest hints of a laugh playing at his lips.
"I've been waiting to do that," he confesses, breathless, his entire frame quaking to the point that it impedes his speech.
Chanyeol observes this movement, however slight, and cocks his head, beaming all the while. "You're still scared?" he asks, comforting rather than teasing. "C'mere, let's try again, until you're not."