traditions
►recipient: chanyoelle
►title: Traditions
►pairings: Jongin/Sehun
►rating: NC-17
►word count: ~7k
►warnings: -
►summary: The upcoming holiday takes Jongin back in time to his last year at Hogwarts and the first year with Sehun.
►author's notes: Dear chanyoelle, I hope you enjoy this since it was quite fun to write.
Jongin bounces on his heels as he waits for the wall behind Leaky Cauldron to rearrange. Normally, he prefers to walk to work, it gives him time to look around, to keep in touch with both of his worlds, but today he wishes he’d just apparated. London at the end of January is humid and bitterly cold, and the chill bites under his nails with vengeance. He pushes his hands deeper into his pockets and steps into Diagon Alley.
It takes just a little longer to walk towards his shop, and Jongin dips his nose into his Hufflepuff shawl. Hogwarts pride items have always been very functional. The yellow color on this one has already faded though, and Jongin wonders if he should make a trip to Hogsmeade to get a new one. Maybe Chanyeol would go with him. It’s not like he needs more of Gryffindor stuff, but that has never stopped him.
It’s quiet in the shop, and Jongin almost feels like tiptoeing around as to not disturb the peace. There’s a small fireplace just across the main counter and he quietly murmurs Lumos to light up the wood in it. He’s always wondered if it’s not a little of a fire hazard to have a fireplace in a wand shop, but his old mentor, Joonmyun, loved the smell and the light of the fire on long winter days, and Jongin is just as fond of it now. Thinking of Joonmyun makes Jongin ponder if he shouldn’t get an apprentice soon. He misses having company now that Joonmyun retired and Jongin’s running WANDer Land alone. Joonmyun’s constant chatter served as background noise even if Jongin almost always responded back with monosyllabic replies. He gets the water kettle started with a careless flick of his wand and flips the door sign to open.
Winter is pretty much off season for Jongin. Surprisingly few people damage their wands in England during winter season, strange statistic with no real explanation, but it gives Jongin time to sit behind the counter, smoothing out new wands into perfection, tinkering with new combinations, studying more of complicated wandlore that is forever fascinating. Maybe it’s because he spent the formative years of his life so unaware of wizards that the countless quirks of the magical world never cease to enthrall and delight. Jongin is also very good with his hands, and he loves the way a wand comes alive under his touch, vibrating with energy and waiting to be used by the right owner.
At the moment though, Jongin’s hands are still too cold and numbed, so he makes a cup of tea and curls in his arm chair in the back of the shop with the latest edition of Witch Weekly in hand. He just needs a half an hour to warm up and truly wake up before he pulls out his small chisel. The moment he sits up, his phone chimes. He pulls it out and sees a mess of signs on his screen, probably an attempt at an emoticon or ten of them. He chuckles and in the next moment he hears his fireplace crackle weirdly. The flames turn green.
“Did you get it? Jongin, are you there? Did you get it?” he hears, and he rushes around his counter.
Sehun’s head, blonde hair pushed up and styled impeccably, tie around his neck pulled into a tight knot, appears in the fireplace.
“I can never tell if your receive my messages,” Sehun says, mouth turning down at the corners. His eyebrows furrow in obvious displeasure.
“Well, if you just let me set your delivery report--” Jongin starts to say.
“I told you I’m perfectly capable of operating this muggle messenger,” Sehun interrupts, exasperated. Jongin sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I see you’re working hard at your new post,” he says, teasingly, and the tips of Sehun’s ears turn red.
“I have an office for myself now. I just wanted to try the fireplace,” he says. “Of course I’m working hard.”
Jongin smiles at the way he can tell Sehun wants to puff up his chest, proud of his fresh promotion. It’s endearing, really.
“Then stop talking to me and messaging me. Just stop by after you’re done for today.”
“What about lunch?” Sehun asks quickly. Jongin smiles at the way he promptly schools his features into a blank look, like he’s not hoping Jongin says yes.
“Fine, but I don’t want to leave the shop. There’s the biggest chance of customers during lunch time. Pick up some pizza and come by,” he says. Sehun loves pizza. He hates ordering it too, absolutely lost especially when trying to call ahead so he can pick it up. Jongin’s already looking forward to the weird mishmash of toppings they’ll end up with.
“It’s a deal,” Sehun says. “Have a good morning, and do try to be productive instead of browsing through Witch Weekly,” he adds, sticking out his tongue. Jongin gives him the finger and Sehun disappears, laughing his high-pitched laughter which always sounds ridiculous and like he’s a frog. That magazine has always been a guilty pleasure Sehun loves to tease him about. Jongin’s hands itch now. He smiles to himself and starts humming under his breath. His mood is high and he feels much warmer now. He just knows the wand he’ll work on today will come out perfect.
Jongin waits in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, having taken the lift down just so that he doesn’t have to freeze out in the cold by an abandoned telephone booth. He watches the wizards milling about, chattering excitedly about their days and the plans for the upcoming weekend and gets a little dizzy from all the chitchat. He spots Sehun soon enough though, handsome in his dress robes, talking to an older man in robes, bending his head down so he doesn’t tower too much. As they approach, he can hear them talking about the new list of banned potions, and Sehun is gesturing rather excitedly, his perfect composure broken as he heatedly argues about the pros and cons of strict potion market regulations.
Sehun’s always been the most fond of potions, the best at it too, Jongin fondly remembers. That’s why when he first slid his books to sit next to Jongin the second semester of Potions VI. and asked to be Jongin’s partner, Jongin was secretly flattered. Sehun’s back had been straight as a ruler, and his eyes pierced Jongin when he looked at him and said to leave the measuring to him. Jongin was taken aback but tried to keep up with the proud, confident boy next to him.
Later, when Sehun gave Jongin a triumphant smile as their Amortentia potion simmered, his bangs sweaty from leaning over their cauldron, lips bitten in concentration, confusion with wonder and delight mixed in the pit of Jongin’s stomach. Sehun, bright eyed and already so sure of himself, stirred Jongin’s heart the same way, just as easily, as he stirred the magic concoctions in Jongin’s beat up cauldron that had seen many potion catastrophes since first year. Even if it took Jongin a long time to let the new emotions simmer up to the surface to be explored.
“Hi there,” Sehun says then, pulling Jongin from his thoughts. He’s already alone, and he carefully pushes a hand against the small of Jongin’s back to get him moving towards the exit. Jongin lets him, and only when they step into the lift, alone, he playfully flicks at the green and golden handkerchief in the pocket of Sehun’s robe.
“Don’t mess that up,” Sehun says, and Jongin steals a quick kiss.
“You always tease Chanyeol about his House pride, but I see you’re keeping up,” Jongin says.
“It’s a fashion statement,” Sehun deadpans. They get out of the booth and start walking, hands in the pockets of their coats.
“So what’s with the secrets?” Sehun asks, and Jongin has to fight the urge to skip instead of walking.
“I thought we could celebrate your promotion properly at last, so I’m taking you to see a film in the cinema,” he says. It’s another thing that fascinates Sehun, who always wants to prove he understands the Muggle world even if his pure blood family had so little interest in it as he grew up.
“Will it be an action film?” Sehun asks, gripping Jongin’s elbow in excitement.
“Yeah,” Jongin nods, thumbing the tickets he bought beforehand because it’s Friday night. It’s a 3D show, and he can’t wait to see Sehun’s face when he finds out about that too. It’s also another film from the Marvel’s series, and while Sehun has no clue about that, the comics fan in Jongin is excited about that too, and about Sehun being so willing to absorb this part of Jongin’s world.
They’re about to turn a corner to a busier street when Sehun pulls at Jongin’s elbow again. He tugs him back and into his chest. He still looks so nonchalant about everything, even as he kisses Jongin, much less shy about his affection, the slide of his tongue across Jongin’s lips promising things to come.
“Dinner’s on me later,” he says, and Jongin lets his hand be pulled into Sehun’s pocket.
“Fine,” he agrees, as they fall into step together. For a while he can’t feel the cold of the winter night at all.
Sehun hangs back in the corner of the shop as Jongin tends to a rare winter customer. The poor wizard is quite devastated about his wand being snapped into several pieces, an unfortunate result of an explosive domestic dispute with his old tea kettle. Jongin has tried fixing it, but to no avail. He strokes the broken pieces of oak wood with torn Veela hair sticking from it.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, and the wizard's shoulders sag. Jongin bites his lips. It’s always sad to part with one’s first wand. He almost feels bad for bringing up buying a new one.
“Would you like,” he starts, but quiets, only watching the wizard as he slowly puts the broken pieces back into a leather pouch, ever so careful. Jongin knows he’s an awful upseller.
“Yes, a new wand,” eventually the wizard says, and lifts his head to look at Jongin. Jongin tries to smile at him encouragingly. From the corner of his eye, he can see Sehun stirring. Ah, and Sehun loves this part. If Jongin let him, he’d pull out every single wand in the shop, trying it out. Sometimes, Jongin pretends he doesn’t see him peeking into different boxes when Sehun comes by before closing, while Jongin gets ready to close up.
Sehun loves watching the process of choosing a new wand too, and Jongin notices how his back straightens now, his neck craning, and he unconsciously steps a bit closer. Jongin smiles to himself. Sehun can be so cute. He moves his customer to stand closer to the center of the shop where Sehun can see and where Jongin has all the wands closer. He hums thoughtfully as the wizard talks about how it felt to yield his previous one and pulls a few boxes out onto the counter. He takes a deep breath. He’s always a bit nervous when presenting his work, hopeful that it will be the best for his customers, always worrying if he’s doing well enough. Wands are art and mystery, even to most of wizards, and with every new owner, Jongin feels a little closer to the heart of the art of wandlore.
When the wizard touches the third wand, short, hazel wood and two Veela hair at the core, the sparks fly and the store lights up with a sudden burst of lights. The wizard’s fingers close around the handle more firmly, and he swishes with it through the air. Jongin hears Sehun gasp, and now he’s standing almost behind Sehun, both of them squeezed into the narrow space between the counter and the endless shelves behind them. The air turns electric and the light around them is bright pink now. Jongin’s alway surprised by what kind of character some of the wizards hide, how their magic transforms them with the right aid.
“It’s perfect,” the wizard says, the light around them fading. Jongin grins happily. Sehun puffs his chest out, like it’s him being praised, and Jongin has to chuckle at how proud he is, how proud of Jongin.
“That’s great,” he says to his customer, and moves to the front of the store, chattering away about the wand, his characteristics and the guarantee on it.
When the customer leaves, Jongin feels so happy. He turns towards Sehun, grinning, and Sehun squeezes his middle quickly in celebration as if reading his mind.
“That was awesome,” Jongin says to him, excited. “That wand was the best.” He might say that about every wand he sells after seeing it come to life for its owner.
“Definitely not,” Sehun says seriously. “I think your wand is the best,” he adds, wiggling his eyebrow. “It can really do wonders.”
Sehun can be so … Jongin feels his cheeks blushing. “Shut up. I sell wands to little kids. All the time.”
Sehun only laughs. “Whatever, I’m just saying. I mean. I would know.” Sehun whispers the last part into Jongin’s ears, and Jongin feels a sudden surge of heat in his stomach.
“You’re awful.”
“So what should we do for Valentine’s day this year?” Sehun asks, cooly, as they make their way down Diagon Alley. His pinky is hooked around Jongin’s as they walk, and he tugs at it now. Jongin knows that means he’s excited for the answer.
Just then, they pass by the flower shop, and it takes Jongin years back, in a sudden fit of nostalgia. He sees it in front of his eyes like it was yesterday, eating his dinner and listening to his friends talking about N.E.W.T.S, when he spotted Sehun, walking up to him, head held high, in a very fancy set of robes, embroidered with green and gold. He was walking fast and determined, the robes flowing behind him, making him look even more glamorous. In his hand, there was a huge bouquet of flowers--red roses and white hydrangeas stacked tightly together and forming a wide circle, an armful of stunning beauty. Sehun stopped right in front of Jongin, lips pressed together in a thin line, while Jongin had trouble swallowing the last of his chicken. He remembers how he couldn’t even blink.
“These are for you,” Sehun said simply, and Jongin stood up, the bench screeching from how fast he’d done that. He was so speechless and flustered back then, the entire Great Hall watching. “Please accept them,” Sehun said, quieter now, watching Jongin like a hawk.
“I …” Jongin stuttered. He stuttered so much, his heart in his throat, his cheeks burning hot and as red as the flowers in front of him. But he managed to stretch out his hands, and Sehun carefully pushed the flowers into them. The bouquet was heavy, and its scent was thick in Jongin’s nose. Sehun was just standing there, one eyebrow arched slightly, but Jongin saw enough of his expressions during Potions classes to know he was a little nervous. He watched Sehun lick his lips, once, twice, before taking a step back.
“I hope you like them,” Sehun said, trying to sound neutral.
“I …” Jongin tried so hard to find his words. “I do. Thanks, thank you,” he muttered, at last.
Someone whistled in the background, and Jongin needed to hide so badly. The flowers seemed like a good option. He bent his head, nose dipping between the petals, and in the next moment, he was sneezing all over his wonderful gift.
Sehun snorted, his eyes curving in a suppressed smile. “We’ll talk later,” he said, confident again, and turned around. He walked out of the Great Hall like it was daily business for a proud, popular Slytherin to walk up to a nerdy, shy Hufflepuff who spent his days carving wood and give him a big bouquet of flowers that, Jongin knew, must had been specially pre-ordered in Hogsmeade and must had cost Sehun arm and leg.
It was Jongin back then, who ran out of the Great Hall to hide in his room, with a lapful of roses, and heart overflowing with affection.
“Earth to Jongin?” Jongin feels his sleeve being tugged at, and it brings him back to reality. He realizes he’s been staring into the window of the flower shop, and he ducks his head down quickly, starts walking again.
“What were you thinking?” Sehun asks, licking his lips.
“It’s nothing,” Jongin mutters quickly, suddenly embarrassed about feeling so nostalgic, about the surge of love he feels looking back at those memories, his cheeks just as pink and warm as when Sehun came up to him back then. “And don’t worry about Valentine’s. Let’s just pick some good take out and have a nice evening in,” he says. Quiet dinner and cuddles are his favorite pass time with Sehun, who is bony but secretly affectionate, clinging to Jongin at times. What more could he ask for?
They Apparate back to Jongin’s apartment after picking up pizza, just on the outskirts of London. It’s a cramped little affair with manga novels strewn around everywhere on the floor. On Jongin’s coffee table is a lava lamp levitating slightly above the surface. He’s charmed the lamp so it not only changes colours but the mass contained inside moves in distinct patterns.
Sehun shucks off his robes lazily and undoes the buttons on his sleeves, rolling them up as he gets comfortable on Jongin’s L-shaped couch. Toeing off his boots, he sprawls out, exhaling a content sigh.
“Did the pizza get smashed again?”
Jongin has already moved to his tiny kitchenette, setting the pizza on his counter. He checks. Apparition has always been a risky process, even for purebloods who end up being the most frequently reported in sticky situations, or so several colleagues from the Department of Magical Catastrophes have told Sehun who’s in turn told Jongin of course. Sehun doesn’t seem like the type with his standoffish persona, but Jongin has drifted off to sleep sometimes, with a lively Sehun cuddled up on his chest in bed, continuously regaling him with funny incidents from his day.
“Nothing that a spell can’t fix,” Jongin says drolly. The toppings included all the meat possible in the world, so the cheese looks about ready to part from the bread. He fixes it up, mumbling a couple of domestic spells Sehun taught him.
They huddle together on Jongin’s couch, scarfing down slices of pizza while watching a French documentary about the technology era on one of Jongin’s illegally acquired muggle TV channels. He doesn’t really pay for TV channels anymore, having magicked an antenna which he has charmed to stay invisible on the rooftop of their apartment building. Now with access to millions of channels across the world, Jongin often finds himself stumped with all these numerous choices. But Sehun is very adamant about his preferences. If it’s anything to do with smartphones, tablets or laptops, he’ll watch it with avid fascination.
Jongin would know. He’s had to endure watching five different documentaries about Steve Jobs already just for Sehun.
“It’s so fascinating,” Sehun says contemplatively later through a mouthful of toothpaste, when they get ready for bed, brushing their teeth with matching electric brushes around the tiny sink in Jongin’s little bathroom. He spits out paste. “How the muggle world seems to advance in its own way. I swear if we just adopted smart phones and made them out to be the mode of communication in the Ministry, life would be so much easier. I hate those fucking memos so much.”
“Like all you purebloods in International Cooperation would know what to do with those,” Jongin says, with a snort. “I still have to set your morning cellphone alarms for you.”
Sehun scrunches up his nose. “But there’s Lu Han! He’s muggle born too. He could teach us all, you know ….”
“I think Lu Han has forgotten what it’s like to live a muggle life, if you catch my drift here,” Jongin says, with a grin. The head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, who Sehun is practically now second-in-command to, Lu Han, is a short man who couldn’t be more perfect for the job. Having professed to be from “humble” beginnings, the Daily Prophet is enamoured with Lu Han’s pretty face, a constant stream of female reporters in his office, demanding to know his current stance on the new stringent rules for cauldron thickness and such. The one time Jongin met Lu Han, Sehun’s boss didn’t even know what terms like “hash tags” and “selfies” meant anymore.
A lost cause to the case of muggle born representation in the wizarding world really.
“That is very true,” Sehun muses. They dive under the bed covers together, and almost instantly, Sehun snuggles up to Jongin. There is a huge Winnie the Pooh soft toy on Sehun’s side of the bed which they are not allowed to talk about. The one time Jongin had taken Sehun to Hamleys in London, one of the largest muggle toy stores ever, he had made a beeline straight for the soft toys section, tugging on a very amused Jongin’s sleeve.
“I bring you to Hamleys and you want a soft toy,” Jongin deadpanned.
Sehun’s face was a beet red even if he had on his usual poker expression. “I have always thought they were cute when I saw muggle children carrying them in my playground,” he mumbled. “My father said little wizards weren’t supposed to like those fluffy things though.”
Oh. Sometimes Sehun could just be so soft in the most unexpected ways. Jongin felt his heart do a funny flopping thing again.
“Okay,” he said, doing his best to keep a straight face. “I will buy you a soft toy. Your first soft toy. Pick one. Right now.”
Surprise and excitement flashed for a second in Sehun’s eyes. He pointed at a Bugs Bunny soft toy. “Can I get the rabbit?” He mumbled.
“Sure.”
And of course, Jongin was most amused when he Apparated back to his apartment a few weeks later only to find Sehun curled up in bed with the soft toy held close to his chest, fast asleep. He took a couple of pictures on his phone, trying not to coo at the adorable sight in his bed. Whenever Sehun fell asleep, the severity of his features would vanish instantly, and he’d finally look his age or maybe even younger, childlike and peaceful.
Since then, there is a growing collection of soft toys near Sehun’s corner of the bed. Jongin tries not to look at them whenever they have sex.
“No, but really,” Sehun says softly, with a whine in his voice as he rubs his cheek against Jongin’s bare chest. He has a long, skinny arm thrown around Jongin’s waist. “What do you want for Valentine’s?”
“Don’t stress it,” Jongin mumbles, absently combing his way through Sehun’s blonde locks. “I don’t want anything really.” His fingers press into the dip made by Sehun’s clavicles, delivering a little impromptu massage. “I’m fine with us just cuddling in bed …”
“Are you sure?” Sehun presses. He makes a discontented sound and looks up with his lips pursed to make for a pout. Jongin laughs and tightens his grip around Sehun’s broad shoulders.
“Like I said,” Jongin maintains firmly. “Don’t stress it. You’re busy with work and other stuff. I know that. It’s okay. Do you want something?”
Sehun is quick to demur. “No,” he says, petulant.
“There you go. Now we’re even.”
“Jongin!”
“We’re not saying another word about this. Hush now.”
Sehun finally quietens down. “Okay,” he says, sounding resigned.
However, Jongin spends the next half hour sleepless, pondering about doing something for Sehun this year after all.
Time to woo Sehun too even if he’s terribly shy and horrible about wooing in general.
Jongin straightens the lapels of his coat then runs his hands down his front, flattening it so that he at least looks put together. He makes a face at the fancy boots, his big toes already a little numb in the pointy tips of them.
“Pull yourself together,” he murmurs to himself, one last look around his shop and a flick of wrist to turn off all the lights. He flips the sign to closed on his way out and steps out with one deep breath.
The flower shop is crowded and feels crammed and stuffy when Jongin gets there, but the young witch behind the counter, directing the arrangement of three bouquets of flowers at the same time with efficient flicks of her wand smiles at him and motions for him to cut the line.
“I have your order all ready,” she says. “I’m a little jealous,” she adds with a teasing smile, quickly bending beneath her counter and lifting a huge bouquet. It’s almost the same as the one Jongin remembers, just as big, red and white and pompous.
“It’s perfect,” he praises her work, and she smiles widely, wrapping it in brown paper for him, so it doesn’t spoil on the way. Jongin knows it will be hard to protect it in the tube, but still much easier to preserve than while using any means of magical transport. He pays for it, bowing his head to grumpy mostly middle aged wizards who didn’t think ahead like him, and gets out. He breathes easier out in the cold air, but just barely so.
Finished earlier. Meet you in the Atrium he texts Sehun. Sehun has a new phone again, but he’s getting better at opening his messages at least, so there’s hope that he’ll actually see it.
The Atrium of the Ministry of Magic is so much worse for this than Hogwarts’ Big Hall, really. People stare and murmur and point unabashedly, and Jongin is not seventeen anymore, yet he feels like he’s going to stutter just as badly as back then, like he wants to run. His temples are sweaty, clearly because he refuses to even unbutton his coat, and his hands are shaking, only because the flowers are heavy, of course. His palms are clammy. At least, there’s nothing really riding on this for him, he reminds himself. Well other than hopefully making Sehun happy, but even that he is pretty sure about, to be honest. Sehun has such a soft heart hidden under all those layers of proud, pure blood breeding.
He reminds himself how Sehun stood by the barrels near the kitchen at Hogwarts two days after Valentine’s day, back straight and lips already bitten and slick by the time Jongin stumbled out of Hufflepuff dorms to head for breakfast, still half asleep.
“Will you go out with me?” he asked, right away, his voice clear and steady, but his tongue licking his lips already, one hand squeezing at his neck. He couldn’t have known if the bouquet worked, what Jongin would say. Jongin didn’t know he’d blurt out a soft “yes” right away either. But Sehun, even back then, was already deep under Jongin’s skin, with his sharp jaw and dark eyes and warm heart, with his proud mind and secretly caring soul.
So really, Jongin has it easy now, he reminds himself as he blushes at the way two witches point and giggle when they pass him, because this is Sehun and he’s already his. He takes deep breaths and looks around. This time as well, he sees Sehun before Sehun sees him, and he forces himself to walk towards him. At least Sehun’s alone this time, and his eyes visibly widen when he notices Jongin, the buzz in the Atrium getting louder as the curious onlookers realize what’s going on.
Jongin stops abruptly in front of Sehun, the tips of their shoes touching, the flowers spilling between them and almost blocking Jongin’s view. Maybe that’s better, because Sehun’s mouth is parted slightly and his eyes are kind of shiny.
“These are for you,” Jongin says. “Please accept them.”
Sehun takes them, seemingly getting his bearings back a little, fighting hard to school his features. It ends with the corners of his lips turned down in his favorite grimace, and somehow the familiarity of it makes Jongin breathe a little easier.
“I hope you like them,” he murmurs, taking what feels like the first proper breath in hours. And then he sneezes on Sehun’s flowers.
Sehun snorts, loudly, not holding back, but his eyes are still glassy, and he’s maneuvering Jongin quickly towards the elevators.
“I love them,” he murmurs. “Jongin, I … let’s get out of here,” he says, pushing at Jongin’s back, and they walk fast.
They’re not alone in the elevator this time, and the ride is silent. Jongin thinks Sehun liked the gesture, but he’s a bit unnerved by the quiet, almost subdued reaction. But when they stumble out of the booth, Sehun doesn’t bother with people around them, leaning over and kissing Jongin quickly.
“I love them,” he repeats. “Now let’s get us home.”
Jongin reaches for his hand, thinking Sehun wants to apparate, but Sehun shakes his head. “No, no. The flowers. Let’s take the taxi to my place. It’s closer.”
It’s not clear to Jongin why that is important, but he nods, and they flag one down relatively fast. The taxi driver tries to make small talk with them, about the flowers and the occasion, teasing, but neither of them are in the mood, and Jongin’s heart is suddenly beating that much faster as Sehun squeezes his hand between them and resolutely looks ahead of himself, bottom lip a little wobbly, eyes a little glassy still.
Maybe this was, somehow, a big deal after all.
“Say something already,” Jongin mutters, when they get out of the taxi in front of the new tall building where Sehun’s elegant, clean apartment full of glass and steel is. It’s such a fancy place that Jongin used to feel a little lost there. Once, Sehun transfigured the bulb in his living room into a huge disco ball when he saw Jongin’s discomfort, and the light reflected in every shiny, pristine surface, making Jongin so giddy he had to laugh out loud. But even that memory doesn’t make his anxiousness disappear now.
“I want to kiss you so much, but I think I won’t be able to stop when I do, so we need to get inside fast,” Sehun says then, and his voice is a little shaky even if his face is carefully blank yet again, as they pass the fancy reception.
“Oh.” Jongin swallows. “Okay.” Suddenly the top floor of this high rise building seems so far away.
Sehun’s hand is unsure as he opens the door to his apartment, but his wrist is confident as he flicks the lights on with a quiet Lumos. Jongin slips in behind him, wanting to get out of the boots and the coat, but then Sehun’s spinning, and Jongin’s pushed against the door and kissed. Sehun’s lips are a bit cold, but the kiss is hot, the need apparent in the way Sehun’s tongue pushes inside Jongin’s mouth right away, stealing his breath.
The flowers are definitely getting squished now between them, Sehun’s fingers holding Jongin’s jaw, thumb stroking under Jongin’s eye. When Sehun’s breath hitches, an almost sob pressed against Jongin’s mouth, Jongin pushes him away.
“I’m going to sneeze again, and that’s just gross,” he says, but he squeezes the back of Sehun’s neck reassuringly to soften the push a little. Sehun’s chuckle is a little wet and a little manic, but he steps back, a vase already floating next to him as he makes his way into the kitchen. He’s careful with the flowers, and the way he obviously treasures them makes Jongin’s stomach flutter with butterflies. He quickly unzips his boots and takes them and his coat off. When he meets Sehun again, halfway to his kitchen, Sehun blinks.
“You even dressed up for me,” he says, breathless. Jongin swallows, and the collar of his white dress shirt and the bowtie underneath it suddenly feels a bit tight.
“I felt it was only right,” he says, gulping. “Happy Valentine’s day,” he adds, and then Sehun’s hands are on him again. Jongin suspects it’s magic though, the way the buttons on his shirt get undone so fast. He wants to chuckle, but Sehun is sucking his bottom lip into his mouth again, and he only manages to gasp.
“Stop cheating,” he says, when Sehun mouths down the slope of his throat, stopping to scratch his teeth over his Adam’s apple. When Sehun only hums against the hollow of his throat, Jongin latches his fingers onto Sehun’s hips and does a little cheating of his own.
“Want you,” Sehun mutters, when he realizes he has no trousers. “Fuck, you were always better at silent charms than me.”
Jongin chuckles. “I’m good at lot of things,” he says, bringing his hands down to squeeze at Sehun’s ass, pushing them closer together. “You wanted something?”
“Bedroom,” Sehun says, nodding and grabbing Jongin’s hand to pull him there.
Sehun’s bed is big, and the sheets are soft and expensive. Jongin finds himself spread, naked, in the middle of it, with Sehun’s bare thighs on either side of him, his ass rocking against Jongin’s dick, as he’s kissed hungrily. The only thing Sehun didn’t take off is Jongin’s bowtie, and he keeps playing with it, his fingers tickling against Jongin’s throat. Jongin’s hands are on Sehun’s ass again, helping him move, and Sehun’s mewling into his mouth, his cock already so hard, thick and curved towards his own belly between them.
When the lube hits Jongin’s head, he almost bites Sehun’s tongue off, but Sehun only whines louder and presses closer.
“What did I tell you about flying lube,” Jongin murmurs, and Sehun shrugs, kissing down his neck again, across his collarbones, his hands splaying over Jongin’s belly.
“I’m going to ride you,” Sehun whispers into Jongin’s chest, one hand moving down to stroke Jongin’s cock, the other smoothing over his hipbones. “So hurry up.”
“Oh,” Jongin says, vision whiting out at the image of Sehun over him, his own dick deep inside Sehun, as he bounces up and down. He grabs for the lube and coats his fingers. Sehun leans forward, one elbow propped next to Jongin’s head, his other hand gripping his own ass cheek so he’s spread more. Jongin holds the other one as he rubs his slick fingers against Sehun’s hole. When he tries to push the first finger in, it goes, almost too easily, Sehun gasping against his mouth, but pushing back immediately.
“Did you--?” Jongin tries to ask, between the persistent licks and kisses Sehun peppers his face with.
“Yeah, this morning. I was thinking of you and. More, add one more,” he say, and Jongin does, crooking two fingers into Sehun and rubbing against his prostate almost right away. Sehun’s making all these tiny mewling and whining noises, hips pushing back, the tip of his dick dragging against Jongin’s belly as he writhes impatiently.
“Hurry, please, please,” he says, and Jongin scissors his fingers then quickly adds the third one, feeling his own want building as he thinks of Sehun, spread on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, fingers pressed in his own ass and thinking of Jongin.
Then Sehun’s batting his hand away and bracing himself on Jongin’s shoulder, one hand coating Jongin’s cock in lube and holding it so that he can sink down.
“Need you,” he whispers, and sinks down fast. The air leaves him in a rush when his ass hits Jongin’s pelvis. His chest rises and falls with quick, harsh breaths, and his eyes are glazed over again, dark and full of desire. Jongin rubs at Sehun’s thigh, feeling him tense and relax. Sehun’s so tight and hot around Jongin’s cock, and Jongin wipes his hand on the sheets, so he can run it up Sehun’s back, all the way into his hair and pull. Sehun moans and rolls his hips.
“Yes,” Jongin encourages, “that’s it,” and Sehun lifts up. He sets the pace fast from the start, his head falling forward, his hands on Jongin’s shoulders.
“You feel so good,” he says, and Jongin braces his heels against the sheets and pushes to meet Sehun. Sehun keens, his back arching sharply, head snapping back, and he catches himself, hands falling to Jongin’s thighs, nails digging in. Like this, Jongin can push back against him, his hands gripping at Sehun’s hips and bringing him down harder, and faster. Sehun’s cock bounces up and down with every strong thrusts into him, and he’s so loud now.
“I’m going to …” he starts to say, then almost wails as Jongin speeds up even more.
“Just from my cock, you’re gonna come for me, like this,” Jongin mutters, fascinated at the way Sehun’s body is stretched in front of him in a beautiful curve, taking Jongin’s cock so well, and Sehun groans. Jongin feels his thighs trembling and his stomach tensing, as Sehun gets frantic.
“Please,” he pleads, and Jongin tries even harder, one hand reaching up to tweak Sehun’s nipple then raking down his middle, nails leaving red marks in their wake. Sehun comes with a cry and collapses forward. He squeezes Jongin more, his walls spazzing around him, and Jongin fucks him through it, Sehun’s warm breath and kittenish licks over his collarbones, their skin sticking together with sweat and Sehun’s come.
Jongin comes just as Sehun goes slack in his hold, the heat coiling and searing through him, mind fuzzy with pleasure, and Sehun moans into his neck, short breaths so hot on his skin, and squirms on Jongin’s dick.
“Fuck,” he mutters, when Jongin’s hold on his hips finally loosens. “Jongin, I … you brought me flowers.”
Jongin has to chuckle at that. “I’m glad I did,” he says, and Sehun clings, nosing under Jongin’s jaw and his thighs squeezing Jongin again.
“You came to the Ministry and you looked so good. You surprised me,” Sehun says, almost petulant now.
“I don’t think it was a bad surprise though?” Jongin mutters, swiping sweaty hair out of Sehun’s eyes. He sighs as Sehun lifts a bit, Jongin’s soft dick finally slipping out of him. He reaches up and kisses under Sehun’s eye. “Just next time, don’t cry on me,” he says.
“I did not cry,” Sehun groans, and turns around in Jongin’s hold. Jongin wraps an arm around Sehun’s middle. He thinks he could fall asleep now, pleasant thrum of satisfaction in his veins and Sehun in his arms, when Sehun’s stomach growls. Jongin laughs, loudly, right into Sehun’s ear, and Sehun flinches.
“What? I was promised a good take out dinner.”
They eat in just their boxers on Sehun’s loveseat sofa, watching the London’s lights beneath them. Sehun’s so fascinated by Jongin having used an app on his phone to order food while they were still snuggled in bed together that he actually lets Jongin teach him a few things. He’s curled up against Jongin the entire time, pressed against his hip and constantly touching, and when he manages to download Candy Crush all on his own, he tosses the phone away and starts kissing down Jongin’s chest, mumbling thanks repeatedly and how much he likes the flowers and Jongin too.
Jongin’s heart squeezes, because he’s come to realize how much it meant for Sehun, that one simple gesture. When Sehun pushes a hand into his boxers, he rolls them off the loveseat, Sehun fitting himself between his spread legs. Jongin lets Sehun fuck him on the soft rag right in front of the window, and Sehun looks into his eye the entire time, his arms around Jongin’s shoulders as they rock together, this time much slower. The pleasure and need simmers at the bottom of Jongin’s belly as Sehun whispers his name over and over again and presses into him, Jongin’s palms spread over his back, a safe cocoon for both of them. He comes with a quiet sigh against Sehun’s mouth, and lets Sehun rubs against his hip until his orgasm comes too, making Sehun tremble in his arms. Jongin feels sated and way too tired to ever move again, limbs made of jello, eyes heavy with sleep.
They curl up under the blanket that Sehun summons over with a quick Accio, their knees bumping and foreheads pressed together.
“I love you,” Sehun murmurs, just before falling asleep, squeezing Jongin’s hand. “Thank you.”
Jongin’s heart feels so full, overflowing with the emotions that have been bubbling in him ever since Sehun first took notice of him, slowly brewing until he knows he can’t keep them inside.
“I love you too,” he says, kissing Sehun’s forehead, then his eyelids, his nose and finally his lips, and he means it, more and more every day. Sehun’s features smooth completely, and Jongin tucks him closer, Sehun’s hair sticking to his mouth and his nose in the crook of Jongin’s neck, and decides that flowers for Sehun should become a tradition.
►title: Traditions
►pairings: Jongin/Sehun
►rating: NC-17
►word count: ~7k
►warnings: -
►summary: The upcoming holiday takes Jongin back in time to his last year at Hogwarts and the first year with Sehun.
►author's notes: Dear chanyoelle, I hope you enjoy this since it was quite fun to write.
Jongin bounces on his heels as he waits for the wall behind Leaky Cauldron to rearrange. Normally, he prefers to walk to work, it gives him time to look around, to keep in touch with both of his worlds, but today he wishes he’d just apparated. London at the end of January is humid and bitterly cold, and the chill bites under his nails with vengeance. He pushes his hands deeper into his pockets and steps into Diagon Alley.
It takes just a little longer to walk towards his shop, and Jongin dips his nose into his Hufflepuff shawl. Hogwarts pride items have always been very functional. The yellow color on this one has already faded though, and Jongin wonders if he should make a trip to Hogsmeade to get a new one. Maybe Chanyeol would go with him. It’s not like he needs more of Gryffindor stuff, but that has never stopped him.
It’s quiet in the shop, and Jongin almost feels like tiptoeing around as to not disturb the peace. There’s a small fireplace just across the main counter and he quietly murmurs Lumos to light up the wood in it. He’s always wondered if it’s not a little of a fire hazard to have a fireplace in a wand shop, but his old mentor, Joonmyun, loved the smell and the light of the fire on long winter days, and Jongin is just as fond of it now. Thinking of Joonmyun makes Jongin ponder if he shouldn’t get an apprentice soon. He misses having company now that Joonmyun retired and Jongin’s running WANDer Land alone. Joonmyun’s constant chatter served as background noise even if Jongin almost always responded back with monosyllabic replies. He gets the water kettle started with a careless flick of his wand and flips the door sign to open.
Winter is pretty much off season for Jongin. Surprisingly few people damage their wands in England during winter season, strange statistic with no real explanation, but it gives Jongin time to sit behind the counter, smoothing out new wands into perfection, tinkering with new combinations, studying more of complicated wandlore that is forever fascinating. Maybe it’s because he spent the formative years of his life so unaware of wizards that the countless quirks of the magical world never cease to enthrall and delight. Jongin is also very good with his hands, and he loves the way a wand comes alive under his touch, vibrating with energy and waiting to be used by the right owner.
At the moment though, Jongin’s hands are still too cold and numbed, so he makes a cup of tea and curls in his arm chair in the back of the shop with the latest edition of Witch Weekly in hand. He just needs a half an hour to warm up and truly wake up before he pulls out his small chisel. The moment he sits up, his phone chimes. He pulls it out and sees a mess of signs on his screen, probably an attempt at an emoticon or ten of them. He chuckles and in the next moment he hears his fireplace crackle weirdly. The flames turn green.
“Did you get it? Jongin, are you there? Did you get it?” he hears, and he rushes around his counter.
Sehun’s head, blonde hair pushed up and styled impeccably, tie around his neck pulled into a tight knot, appears in the fireplace.
“I can never tell if your receive my messages,” Sehun says, mouth turning down at the corners. His eyebrows furrow in obvious displeasure.
“Well, if you just let me set your delivery report--” Jongin starts to say.
“I told you I’m perfectly capable of operating this muggle messenger,” Sehun interrupts, exasperated. Jongin sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I see you’re working hard at your new post,” he says, teasingly, and the tips of Sehun’s ears turn red.
“I have an office for myself now. I just wanted to try the fireplace,” he says. “Of course I’m working hard.”
Jongin smiles at the way he can tell Sehun wants to puff up his chest, proud of his fresh promotion. It’s endearing, really.
“Then stop talking to me and messaging me. Just stop by after you’re done for today.”
“What about lunch?” Sehun asks quickly. Jongin smiles at the way he promptly schools his features into a blank look, like he’s not hoping Jongin says yes.
“Fine, but I don’t want to leave the shop. There’s the biggest chance of customers during lunch time. Pick up some pizza and come by,” he says. Sehun loves pizza. He hates ordering it too, absolutely lost especially when trying to call ahead so he can pick it up. Jongin’s already looking forward to the weird mishmash of toppings they’ll end up with.
“It’s a deal,” Sehun says. “Have a good morning, and do try to be productive instead of browsing through Witch Weekly,” he adds, sticking out his tongue. Jongin gives him the finger and Sehun disappears, laughing his high-pitched laughter which always sounds ridiculous and like he’s a frog. That magazine has always been a guilty pleasure Sehun loves to tease him about. Jongin’s hands itch now. He smiles to himself and starts humming under his breath. His mood is high and he feels much warmer now. He just knows the wand he’ll work on today will come out perfect.
Jongin waits in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, having taken the lift down just so that he doesn’t have to freeze out in the cold by an abandoned telephone booth. He watches the wizards milling about, chattering excitedly about their days and the plans for the upcoming weekend and gets a little dizzy from all the chitchat. He spots Sehun soon enough though, handsome in his dress robes, talking to an older man in robes, bending his head down so he doesn’t tower too much. As they approach, he can hear them talking about the new list of banned potions, and Sehun is gesturing rather excitedly, his perfect composure broken as he heatedly argues about the pros and cons of strict potion market regulations.
Sehun’s always been the most fond of potions, the best at it too, Jongin fondly remembers. That’s why when he first slid his books to sit next to Jongin the second semester of Potions VI. and asked to be Jongin’s partner, Jongin was secretly flattered. Sehun’s back had been straight as a ruler, and his eyes pierced Jongin when he looked at him and said to leave the measuring to him. Jongin was taken aback but tried to keep up with the proud, confident boy next to him.
Later, when Sehun gave Jongin a triumphant smile as their Amortentia potion simmered, his bangs sweaty from leaning over their cauldron, lips bitten in concentration, confusion with wonder and delight mixed in the pit of Jongin’s stomach. Sehun, bright eyed and already so sure of himself, stirred Jongin’s heart the same way, just as easily, as he stirred the magic concoctions in Jongin’s beat up cauldron that had seen many potion catastrophes since first year. Even if it took Jongin a long time to let the new emotions simmer up to the surface to be explored.
“Hi there,” Sehun says then, pulling Jongin from his thoughts. He’s already alone, and he carefully pushes a hand against the small of Jongin’s back to get him moving towards the exit. Jongin lets him, and only when they step into the lift, alone, he playfully flicks at the green and golden handkerchief in the pocket of Sehun’s robe.
“Don’t mess that up,” Sehun says, and Jongin steals a quick kiss.
“You always tease Chanyeol about his House pride, but I see you’re keeping up,” Jongin says.
“It’s a fashion statement,” Sehun deadpans. They get out of the booth and start walking, hands in the pockets of their coats.
“So what’s with the secrets?” Sehun asks, and Jongin has to fight the urge to skip instead of walking.
“I thought we could celebrate your promotion properly at last, so I’m taking you to see a film in the cinema,” he says. It’s another thing that fascinates Sehun, who always wants to prove he understands the Muggle world even if his pure blood family had so little interest in it as he grew up.
“Will it be an action film?” Sehun asks, gripping Jongin’s elbow in excitement.
“Yeah,” Jongin nods, thumbing the tickets he bought beforehand because it’s Friday night. It’s a 3D show, and he can’t wait to see Sehun’s face when he finds out about that too. It’s also another film from the Marvel’s series, and while Sehun has no clue about that, the comics fan in Jongin is excited about that too, and about Sehun being so willing to absorb this part of Jongin’s world.
They’re about to turn a corner to a busier street when Sehun pulls at Jongin’s elbow again. He tugs him back and into his chest. He still looks so nonchalant about everything, even as he kisses Jongin, much less shy about his affection, the slide of his tongue across Jongin’s lips promising things to come.
“Dinner’s on me later,” he says, and Jongin lets his hand be pulled into Sehun’s pocket.
“Fine,” he agrees, as they fall into step together. For a while he can’t feel the cold of the winter night at all.
Sehun hangs back in the corner of the shop as Jongin tends to a rare winter customer. The poor wizard is quite devastated about his wand being snapped into several pieces, an unfortunate result of an explosive domestic dispute with his old tea kettle. Jongin has tried fixing it, but to no avail. He strokes the broken pieces of oak wood with torn Veela hair sticking from it.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, and the wizard's shoulders sag. Jongin bites his lips. It’s always sad to part with one’s first wand. He almost feels bad for bringing up buying a new one.
“Would you like,” he starts, but quiets, only watching the wizard as he slowly puts the broken pieces back into a leather pouch, ever so careful. Jongin knows he’s an awful upseller.
“Yes, a new wand,” eventually the wizard says, and lifts his head to look at Jongin. Jongin tries to smile at him encouragingly. From the corner of his eye, he can see Sehun stirring. Ah, and Sehun loves this part. If Jongin let him, he’d pull out every single wand in the shop, trying it out. Sometimes, Jongin pretends he doesn’t see him peeking into different boxes when Sehun comes by before closing, while Jongin gets ready to close up.
Sehun loves watching the process of choosing a new wand too, and Jongin notices how his back straightens now, his neck craning, and he unconsciously steps a bit closer. Jongin smiles to himself. Sehun can be so cute. He moves his customer to stand closer to the center of the shop where Sehun can see and where Jongin has all the wands closer. He hums thoughtfully as the wizard talks about how it felt to yield his previous one and pulls a few boxes out onto the counter. He takes a deep breath. He’s always a bit nervous when presenting his work, hopeful that it will be the best for his customers, always worrying if he’s doing well enough. Wands are art and mystery, even to most of wizards, and with every new owner, Jongin feels a little closer to the heart of the art of wandlore.
When the wizard touches the third wand, short, hazel wood and two Veela hair at the core, the sparks fly and the store lights up with a sudden burst of lights. The wizard’s fingers close around the handle more firmly, and he swishes with it through the air. Jongin hears Sehun gasp, and now he’s standing almost behind Sehun, both of them squeezed into the narrow space between the counter and the endless shelves behind them. The air turns electric and the light around them is bright pink now. Jongin’s alway surprised by what kind of character some of the wizards hide, how their magic transforms them with the right aid.
“It’s perfect,” the wizard says, the light around them fading. Jongin grins happily. Sehun puffs his chest out, like it’s him being praised, and Jongin has to chuckle at how proud he is, how proud of Jongin.
“That’s great,” he says to his customer, and moves to the front of the store, chattering away about the wand, his characteristics and the guarantee on it.
When the customer leaves, Jongin feels so happy. He turns towards Sehun, grinning, and Sehun squeezes his middle quickly in celebration as if reading his mind.
“That was awesome,” Jongin says to him, excited. “That wand was the best.” He might say that about every wand he sells after seeing it come to life for its owner.
“Definitely not,” Sehun says seriously. “I think your wand is the best,” he adds, wiggling his eyebrow. “It can really do wonders.”
Sehun can be so … Jongin feels his cheeks blushing. “Shut up. I sell wands to little kids. All the time.”
Sehun only laughs. “Whatever, I’m just saying. I mean. I would know.” Sehun whispers the last part into Jongin’s ears, and Jongin feels a sudden surge of heat in his stomach.
“You’re awful.”
“So what should we do for Valentine’s day this year?” Sehun asks, cooly, as they make their way down Diagon Alley. His pinky is hooked around Jongin’s as they walk, and he tugs at it now. Jongin knows that means he’s excited for the answer.
Just then, they pass by the flower shop, and it takes Jongin years back, in a sudden fit of nostalgia. He sees it in front of his eyes like it was yesterday, eating his dinner and listening to his friends talking about N.E.W.T.S, when he spotted Sehun, walking up to him, head held high, in a very fancy set of robes, embroidered with green and gold. He was walking fast and determined, the robes flowing behind him, making him look even more glamorous. In his hand, there was a huge bouquet of flowers--red roses and white hydrangeas stacked tightly together and forming a wide circle, an armful of stunning beauty. Sehun stopped right in front of Jongin, lips pressed together in a thin line, while Jongin had trouble swallowing the last of his chicken. He remembers how he couldn’t even blink.
“These are for you,” Sehun said simply, and Jongin stood up, the bench screeching from how fast he’d done that. He was so speechless and flustered back then, the entire Great Hall watching. “Please accept them,” Sehun said, quieter now, watching Jongin like a hawk.
“I …” Jongin stuttered. He stuttered so much, his heart in his throat, his cheeks burning hot and as red as the flowers in front of him. But he managed to stretch out his hands, and Sehun carefully pushed the flowers into them. The bouquet was heavy, and its scent was thick in Jongin’s nose. Sehun was just standing there, one eyebrow arched slightly, but Jongin saw enough of his expressions during Potions classes to know he was a little nervous. He watched Sehun lick his lips, once, twice, before taking a step back.
“I hope you like them,” Sehun said, trying to sound neutral.
“I …” Jongin tried so hard to find his words. “I do. Thanks, thank you,” he muttered, at last.
Someone whistled in the background, and Jongin needed to hide so badly. The flowers seemed like a good option. He bent his head, nose dipping between the petals, and in the next moment, he was sneezing all over his wonderful gift.
Sehun snorted, his eyes curving in a suppressed smile. “We’ll talk later,” he said, confident again, and turned around. He walked out of the Great Hall like it was daily business for a proud, popular Slytherin to walk up to a nerdy, shy Hufflepuff who spent his days carving wood and give him a big bouquet of flowers that, Jongin knew, must had been specially pre-ordered in Hogsmeade and must had cost Sehun arm and leg.
It was Jongin back then, who ran out of the Great Hall to hide in his room, with a lapful of roses, and heart overflowing with affection.
“Earth to Jongin?” Jongin feels his sleeve being tugged at, and it brings him back to reality. He realizes he’s been staring into the window of the flower shop, and he ducks his head down quickly, starts walking again.
“What were you thinking?” Sehun asks, licking his lips.
“It’s nothing,” Jongin mutters quickly, suddenly embarrassed about feeling so nostalgic, about the surge of love he feels looking back at those memories, his cheeks just as pink and warm as when Sehun came up to him back then. “And don’t worry about Valentine’s. Let’s just pick some good take out and have a nice evening in,” he says. Quiet dinner and cuddles are his favorite pass time with Sehun, who is bony but secretly affectionate, clinging to Jongin at times. What more could he ask for?
They Apparate back to Jongin’s apartment after picking up pizza, just on the outskirts of London. It’s a cramped little affair with manga novels strewn around everywhere on the floor. On Jongin’s coffee table is a lava lamp levitating slightly above the surface. He’s charmed the lamp so it not only changes colours but the mass contained inside moves in distinct patterns.
Sehun shucks off his robes lazily and undoes the buttons on his sleeves, rolling them up as he gets comfortable on Jongin’s L-shaped couch. Toeing off his boots, he sprawls out, exhaling a content sigh.
“Did the pizza get smashed again?”
Jongin has already moved to his tiny kitchenette, setting the pizza on his counter. He checks. Apparition has always been a risky process, even for purebloods who end up being the most frequently reported in sticky situations, or so several colleagues from the Department of Magical Catastrophes have told Sehun who’s in turn told Jongin of course. Sehun doesn’t seem like the type with his standoffish persona, but Jongin has drifted off to sleep sometimes, with a lively Sehun cuddled up on his chest in bed, continuously regaling him with funny incidents from his day.
“Nothing that a spell can’t fix,” Jongin says drolly. The toppings included all the meat possible in the world, so the cheese looks about ready to part from the bread. He fixes it up, mumbling a couple of domestic spells Sehun taught him.
They huddle together on Jongin’s couch, scarfing down slices of pizza while watching a French documentary about the technology era on one of Jongin’s illegally acquired muggle TV channels. He doesn’t really pay for TV channels anymore, having magicked an antenna which he has charmed to stay invisible on the rooftop of their apartment building. Now with access to millions of channels across the world, Jongin often finds himself stumped with all these numerous choices. But Sehun is very adamant about his preferences. If it’s anything to do with smartphones, tablets or laptops, he’ll watch it with avid fascination.
Jongin would know. He’s had to endure watching five different documentaries about Steve Jobs already just for Sehun.
“It’s so fascinating,” Sehun says contemplatively later through a mouthful of toothpaste, when they get ready for bed, brushing their teeth with matching electric brushes around the tiny sink in Jongin’s little bathroom. He spits out paste. “How the muggle world seems to advance in its own way. I swear if we just adopted smart phones and made them out to be the mode of communication in the Ministry, life would be so much easier. I hate those fucking memos so much.”
“Like all you purebloods in International Cooperation would know what to do with those,” Jongin says, with a snort. “I still have to set your morning cellphone alarms for you.”
Sehun scrunches up his nose. “But there’s Lu Han! He’s muggle born too. He could teach us all, you know ….”
“I think Lu Han has forgotten what it’s like to live a muggle life, if you catch my drift here,” Jongin says, with a grin. The head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, who Sehun is practically now second-in-command to, Lu Han, is a short man who couldn’t be more perfect for the job. Having professed to be from “humble” beginnings, the Daily Prophet is enamoured with Lu Han’s pretty face, a constant stream of female reporters in his office, demanding to know his current stance on the new stringent rules for cauldron thickness and such. The one time Jongin met Lu Han, Sehun’s boss didn’t even know what terms like “hash tags” and “selfies” meant anymore.
A lost cause to the case of muggle born representation in the wizarding world really.
“That is very true,” Sehun muses. They dive under the bed covers together, and almost instantly, Sehun snuggles up to Jongin. There is a huge Winnie the Pooh soft toy on Sehun’s side of the bed which they are not allowed to talk about. The one time Jongin had taken Sehun to Hamleys in London, one of the largest muggle toy stores ever, he had made a beeline straight for the soft toys section, tugging on a very amused Jongin’s sleeve.
“I bring you to Hamleys and you want a soft toy,” Jongin deadpanned.
Sehun’s face was a beet red even if he had on his usual poker expression. “I have always thought they were cute when I saw muggle children carrying them in my playground,” he mumbled. “My father said little wizards weren’t supposed to like those fluffy things though.”
Oh. Sometimes Sehun could just be so soft in the most unexpected ways. Jongin felt his heart do a funny flopping thing again.
“Okay,” he said, doing his best to keep a straight face. “I will buy you a soft toy. Your first soft toy. Pick one. Right now.”
Surprise and excitement flashed for a second in Sehun’s eyes. He pointed at a Bugs Bunny soft toy. “Can I get the rabbit?” He mumbled.
“Sure.”
And of course, Jongin was most amused when he Apparated back to his apartment a few weeks later only to find Sehun curled up in bed with the soft toy held close to his chest, fast asleep. He took a couple of pictures on his phone, trying not to coo at the adorable sight in his bed. Whenever Sehun fell asleep, the severity of his features would vanish instantly, and he’d finally look his age or maybe even younger, childlike and peaceful.
Since then, there is a growing collection of soft toys near Sehun’s corner of the bed. Jongin tries not to look at them whenever they have sex.
“No, but really,” Sehun says softly, with a whine in his voice as he rubs his cheek against Jongin’s bare chest. He has a long, skinny arm thrown around Jongin’s waist. “What do you want for Valentine’s?”
“Don’t stress it,” Jongin mumbles, absently combing his way through Sehun’s blonde locks. “I don’t want anything really.” His fingers press into the dip made by Sehun’s clavicles, delivering a little impromptu massage. “I’m fine with us just cuddling in bed …”
“Are you sure?” Sehun presses. He makes a discontented sound and looks up with his lips pursed to make for a pout. Jongin laughs and tightens his grip around Sehun’s broad shoulders.
“Like I said,” Jongin maintains firmly. “Don’t stress it. You’re busy with work and other stuff. I know that. It’s okay. Do you want something?”
Sehun is quick to demur. “No,” he says, petulant.
“There you go. Now we’re even.”
“Jongin!”
“We’re not saying another word about this. Hush now.”
Sehun finally quietens down. “Okay,” he says, sounding resigned.
However, Jongin spends the next half hour sleepless, pondering about doing something for Sehun this year after all.
Time to woo Sehun too even if he’s terribly shy and horrible about wooing in general.
Jongin straightens the lapels of his coat then runs his hands down his front, flattening it so that he at least looks put together. He makes a face at the fancy boots, his big toes already a little numb in the pointy tips of them.
“Pull yourself together,” he murmurs to himself, one last look around his shop and a flick of wrist to turn off all the lights. He flips the sign to closed on his way out and steps out with one deep breath.
The flower shop is crowded and feels crammed and stuffy when Jongin gets there, but the young witch behind the counter, directing the arrangement of three bouquets of flowers at the same time with efficient flicks of her wand smiles at him and motions for him to cut the line.
“I have your order all ready,” she says. “I’m a little jealous,” she adds with a teasing smile, quickly bending beneath her counter and lifting a huge bouquet. It’s almost the same as the one Jongin remembers, just as big, red and white and pompous.
“It’s perfect,” he praises her work, and she smiles widely, wrapping it in brown paper for him, so it doesn’t spoil on the way. Jongin knows it will be hard to protect it in the tube, but still much easier to preserve than while using any means of magical transport. He pays for it, bowing his head to grumpy mostly middle aged wizards who didn’t think ahead like him, and gets out. He breathes easier out in the cold air, but just barely so.
Finished earlier. Meet you in the Atrium he texts Sehun. Sehun has a new phone again, but he’s getting better at opening his messages at least, so there’s hope that he’ll actually see it.
The Atrium of the Ministry of Magic is so much worse for this than Hogwarts’ Big Hall, really. People stare and murmur and point unabashedly, and Jongin is not seventeen anymore, yet he feels like he’s going to stutter just as badly as back then, like he wants to run. His temples are sweaty, clearly because he refuses to even unbutton his coat, and his hands are shaking, only because the flowers are heavy, of course. His palms are clammy. At least, there’s nothing really riding on this for him, he reminds himself. Well other than hopefully making Sehun happy, but even that he is pretty sure about, to be honest. Sehun has such a soft heart hidden under all those layers of proud, pure blood breeding.
He reminds himself how Sehun stood by the barrels near the kitchen at Hogwarts two days after Valentine’s day, back straight and lips already bitten and slick by the time Jongin stumbled out of Hufflepuff dorms to head for breakfast, still half asleep.
“Will you go out with me?” he asked, right away, his voice clear and steady, but his tongue licking his lips already, one hand squeezing at his neck. He couldn’t have known if the bouquet worked, what Jongin would say. Jongin didn’t know he’d blurt out a soft “yes” right away either. But Sehun, even back then, was already deep under Jongin’s skin, with his sharp jaw and dark eyes and warm heart, with his proud mind and secretly caring soul.
So really, Jongin has it easy now, he reminds himself as he blushes at the way two witches point and giggle when they pass him, because this is Sehun and he’s already his. He takes deep breaths and looks around. This time as well, he sees Sehun before Sehun sees him, and he forces himself to walk towards him. At least Sehun’s alone this time, and his eyes visibly widen when he notices Jongin, the buzz in the Atrium getting louder as the curious onlookers realize what’s going on.
Jongin stops abruptly in front of Sehun, the tips of their shoes touching, the flowers spilling between them and almost blocking Jongin’s view. Maybe that’s better, because Sehun’s mouth is parted slightly and his eyes are kind of shiny.
“These are for you,” Jongin says. “Please accept them.”
Sehun takes them, seemingly getting his bearings back a little, fighting hard to school his features. It ends with the corners of his lips turned down in his favorite grimace, and somehow the familiarity of it makes Jongin breathe a little easier.
“I hope you like them,” he murmurs, taking what feels like the first proper breath in hours. And then he sneezes on Sehun’s flowers.
Sehun snorts, loudly, not holding back, but his eyes are still glassy, and he’s maneuvering Jongin quickly towards the elevators.
“I love them,” he murmurs. “Jongin, I … let’s get out of here,” he says, pushing at Jongin’s back, and they walk fast.
They’re not alone in the elevator this time, and the ride is silent. Jongin thinks Sehun liked the gesture, but he’s a bit unnerved by the quiet, almost subdued reaction. But when they stumble out of the booth, Sehun doesn’t bother with people around them, leaning over and kissing Jongin quickly.
“I love them,” he repeats. “Now let’s get us home.”
Jongin reaches for his hand, thinking Sehun wants to apparate, but Sehun shakes his head. “No, no. The flowers. Let’s take the taxi to my place. It’s closer.”
It’s not clear to Jongin why that is important, but he nods, and they flag one down relatively fast. The taxi driver tries to make small talk with them, about the flowers and the occasion, teasing, but neither of them are in the mood, and Jongin’s heart is suddenly beating that much faster as Sehun squeezes his hand between them and resolutely looks ahead of himself, bottom lip a little wobbly, eyes a little glassy still.
Maybe this was, somehow, a big deal after all.
“Say something already,” Jongin mutters, when they get out of the taxi in front of the new tall building where Sehun’s elegant, clean apartment full of glass and steel is. It’s such a fancy place that Jongin used to feel a little lost there. Once, Sehun transfigured the bulb in his living room into a huge disco ball when he saw Jongin’s discomfort, and the light reflected in every shiny, pristine surface, making Jongin so giddy he had to laugh out loud. But even that memory doesn’t make his anxiousness disappear now.
“I want to kiss you so much, but I think I won’t be able to stop when I do, so we need to get inside fast,” Sehun says then, and his voice is a little shaky even if his face is carefully blank yet again, as they pass the fancy reception.
“Oh.” Jongin swallows. “Okay.” Suddenly the top floor of this high rise building seems so far away.
Sehun’s hand is unsure as he opens the door to his apartment, but his wrist is confident as he flicks the lights on with a quiet Lumos. Jongin slips in behind him, wanting to get out of the boots and the coat, but then Sehun’s spinning, and Jongin’s pushed against the door and kissed. Sehun’s lips are a bit cold, but the kiss is hot, the need apparent in the way Sehun’s tongue pushes inside Jongin’s mouth right away, stealing his breath.
The flowers are definitely getting squished now between them, Sehun’s fingers holding Jongin’s jaw, thumb stroking under Jongin’s eye. When Sehun’s breath hitches, an almost sob pressed against Jongin’s mouth, Jongin pushes him away.
“I’m going to sneeze again, and that’s just gross,” he says, but he squeezes the back of Sehun’s neck reassuringly to soften the push a little. Sehun’s chuckle is a little wet and a little manic, but he steps back, a vase already floating next to him as he makes his way into the kitchen. He’s careful with the flowers, and the way he obviously treasures them makes Jongin’s stomach flutter with butterflies. He quickly unzips his boots and takes them and his coat off. When he meets Sehun again, halfway to his kitchen, Sehun blinks.
“You even dressed up for me,” he says, breathless. Jongin swallows, and the collar of his white dress shirt and the bowtie underneath it suddenly feels a bit tight.
“I felt it was only right,” he says, gulping. “Happy Valentine’s day,” he adds, and then Sehun’s hands are on him again. Jongin suspects it’s magic though, the way the buttons on his shirt get undone so fast. He wants to chuckle, but Sehun is sucking his bottom lip into his mouth again, and he only manages to gasp.
“Stop cheating,” he says, when Sehun mouths down the slope of his throat, stopping to scratch his teeth over his Adam’s apple. When Sehun only hums against the hollow of his throat, Jongin latches his fingers onto Sehun’s hips and does a little cheating of his own.
“Want you,” Sehun mutters, when he realizes he has no trousers. “Fuck, you were always better at silent charms than me.”
Jongin chuckles. “I’m good at lot of things,” he says, bringing his hands down to squeeze at Sehun’s ass, pushing them closer together. “You wanted something?”
“Bedroom,” Sehun says, nodding and grabbing Jongin’s hand to pull him there.
Sehun’s bed is big, and the sheets are soft and expensive. Jongin finds himself spread, naked, in the middle of it, with Sehun’s bare thighs on either side of him, his ass rocking against Jongin’s dick, as he’s kissed hungrily. The only thing Sehun didn’t take off is Jongin’s bowtie, and he keeps playing with it, his fingers tickling against Jongin’s throat. Jongin’s hands are on Sehun’s ass again, helping him move, and Sehun’s mewling into his mouth, his cock already so hard, thick and curved towards his own belly between them.
When the lube hits Jongin’s head, he almost bites Sehun’s tongue off, but Sehun only whines louder and presses closer.
“What did I tell you about flying lube,” Jongin murmurs, and Sehun shrugs, kissing down his neck again, across his collarbones, his hands splaying over Jongin’s belly.
“I’m going to ride you,” Sehun whispers into Jongin’s chest, one hand moving down to stroke Jongin’s cock, the other smoothing over his hipbones. “So hurry up.”
“Oh,” Jongin says, vision whiting out at the image of Sehun over him, his own dick deep inside Sehun, as he bounces up and down. He grabs for the lube and coats his fingers. Sehun leans forward, one elbow propped next to Jongin’s head, his other hand gripping his own ass cheek so he’s spread more. Jongin holds the other one as he rubs his slick fingers against Sehun’s hole. When he tries to push the first finger in, it goes, almost too easily, Sehun gasping against his mouth, but pushing back immediately.
“Did you--?” Jongin tries to ask, between the persistent licks and kisses Sehun peppers his face with.
“Yeah, this morning. I was thinking of you and. More, add one more,” he say, and Jongin does, crooking two fingers into Sehun and rubbing against his prostate almost right away. Sehun’s making all these tiny mewling and whining noises, hips pushing back, the tip of his dick dragging against Jongin’s belly as he writhes impatiently.
“Hurry, please, please,” he says, and Jongin scissors his fingers then quickly adds the third one, feeling his own want building as he thinks of Sehun, spread on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, fingers pressed in his own ass and thinking of Jongin.
Then Sehun’s batting his hand away and bracing himself on Jongin’s shoulder, one hand coating Jongin’s cock in lube and holding it so that he can sink down.
“Need you,” he whispers, and sinks down fast. The air leaves him in a rush when his ass hits Jongin’s pelvis. His chest rises and falls with quick, harsh breaths, and his eyes are glazed over again, dark and full of desire. Jongin rubs at Sehun’s thigh, feeling him tense and relax. Sehun’s so tight and hot around Jongin’s cock, and Jongin wipes his hand on the sheets, so he can run it up Sehun’s back, all the way into his hair and pull. Sehun moans and rolls his hips.
“Yes,” Jongin encourages, “that’s it,” and Sehun lifts up. He sets the pace fast from the start, his head falling forward, his hands on Jongin’s shoulders.
“You feel so good,” he says, and Jongin braces his heels against the sheets and pushes to meet Sehun. Sehun keens, his back arching sharply, head snapping back, and he catches himself, hands falling to Jongin’s thighs, nails digging in. Like this, Jongin can push back against him, his hands gripping at Sehun’s hips and bringing him down harder, and faster. Sehun’s cock bounces up and down with every strong thrusts into him, and he’s so loud now.
“I’m going to …” he starts to say, then almost wails as Jongin speeds up even more.
“Just from my cock, you’re gonna come for me, like this,” Jongin mutters, fascinated at the way Sehun’s body is stretched in front of him in a beautiful curve, taking Jongin’s cock so well, and Sehun groans. Jongin feels his thighs trembling and his stomach tensing, as Sehun gets frantic.
“Please,” he pleads, and Jongin tries even harder, one hand reaching up to tweak Sehun’s nipple then raking down his middle, nails leaving red marks in their wake. Sehun comes with a cry and collapses forward. He squeezes Jongin more, his walls spazzing around him, and Jongin fucks him through it, Sehun’s warm breath and kittenish licks over his collarbones, their skin sticking together with sweat and Sehun’s come.
Jongin comes just as Sehun goes slack in his hold, the heat coiling and searing through him, mind fuzzy with pleasure, and Sehun moans into his neck, short breaths so hot on his skin, and squirms on Jongin’s dick.
“Fuck,” he mutters, when Jongin’s hold on his hips finally loosens. “Jongin, I … you brought me flowers.”
Jongin has to chuckle at that. “I’m glad I did,” he says, and Sehun clings, nosing under Jongin’s jaw and his thighs squeezing Jongin again.
“You came to the Ministry and you looked so good. You surprised me,” Sehun says, almost petulant now.
“I don’t think it was a bad surprise though?” Jongin mutters, swiping sweaty hair out of Sehun’s eyes. He sighs as Sehun lifts a bit, Jongin’s soft dick finally slipping out of him. He reaches up and kisses under Sehun’s eye. “Just next time, don’t cry on me,” he says.
“I did not cry,” Sehun groans, and turns around in Jongin’s hold. Jongin wraps an arm around Sehun’s middle. He thinks he could fall asleep now, pleasant thrum of satisfaction in his veins and Sehun in his arms, when Sehun’s stomach growls. Jongin laughs, loudly, right into Sehun’s ear, and Sehun flinches.
“What? I was promised a good take out dinner.”
They eat in just their boxers on Sehun’s loveseat sofa, watching the London’s lights beneath them. Sehun’s so fascinated by Jongin having used an app on his phone to order food while they were still snuggled in bed together that he actually lets Jongin teach him a few things. He’s curled up against Jongin the entire time, pressed against his hip and constantly touching, and when he manages to download Candy Crush all on his own, he tosses the phone away and starts kissing down Jongin’s chest, mumbling thanks repeatedly and how much he likes the flowers and Jongin too.
Jongin’s heart squeezes, because he’s come to realize how much it meant for Sehun, that one simple gesture. When Sehun pushes a hand into his boxers, he rolls them off the loveseat, Sehun fitting himself between his spread legs. Jongin lets Sehun fuck him on the soft rag right in front of the window, and Sehun looks into his eye the entire time, his arms around Jongin’s shoulders as they rock together, this time much slower. The pleasure and need simmers at the bottom of Jongin’s belly as Sehun whispers his name over and over again and presses into him, Jongin’s palms spread over his back, a safe cocoon for both of them. He comes with a quiet sigh against Sehun’s mouth, and lets Sehun rubs against his hip until his orgasm comes too, making Sehun tremble in his arms. Jongin feels sated and way too tired to ever move again, limbs made of jello, eyes heavy with sleep.
They curl up under the blanket that Sehun summons over with a quick Accio, their knees bumping and foreheads pressed together.
“I love you,” Sehun murmurs, just before falling asleep, squeezing Jongin’s hand. “Thank you.”
Jongin’s heart feels so full, overflowing with the emotions that have been bubbling in him ever since Sehun first took notice of him, slowly brewing until he knows he can’t keep them inside.
“I love you too,” he says, kissing Sehun’s forehead, then his eyelids, his nose and finally his lips, and he means it, more and more every day. Sehun’s features smooth completely, and Jongin tucks him closer, Sehun’s hair sticking to his mouth and his nose in the crook of Jongin’s neck, and decides that flowers for Sehun should become a tradition.