My One and Only (Love)
Title: My One and Only (Love)
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Jongin
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluffy fluff
Disclaimer: I own nothing, written just for fun.
Summary: Jongin performs for Kyungsoo on their wedding day.
A/N: For hyuuungsoo, thanks for the prompts! <3 The other one will come soon~
Based on these songs:
My One and Only Love
Heart and Soul
I legit cried while writing this, I am such a sap >.<
Kyungsoo looks radiant today, but that’s not unusual, Jongin thinks. His husband always shines, though he isn’t often center stage. Today, though, today is their day, and Jongin has been basking in Kyungsoo’s warmth and brilliance since he opened his eyes this morning and parted his lips for a slow kiss. Soon, very soon, Jongin will fall back into bed with Kyungsoo in his arms, but for now he’s intent on memorizing every detail in the remaining moments of today.
“You just had to marry someone boring and professional,” Baekhyun sighs, swirling a noxious mixture of vodka and something electric blue in a martini glass, “but at least you married a hot one!”
“The hottest accountant in Seoul!” Jongdae agrees, squeezing Kyungsoo’s shoulders from behind. If it were any other day both their insufferable friends would be getting punched, but Kyungsoo just blushes, lips and cheeks darkening prettily against the white of his smile. Jongin can’t tell which is brighter, the flash of Kyungsoo’s perfect teeth or the sharp cut of his ivory suit.
Jongin gets to send his sexy man off to work in a suit every morning, pulling him in across the threshold to tease him with a sloppy kiss before he shoves Kyungsoo down the front steps and watches him sprint to the subway. Kyungsoo usually favors earthy tweeds and conservative pinstripes though, and Jongin’s a little disappointed they’ll have to return the rental tuxes after this weekend. Maybe he can drag Kyungsoo out for shopping on their honeymoon; they’ll be touring Paris and Milan, after all.
“Why are you still here, in your tie and trousers?” Yixing glides up to Jongin, hissing in his ear as he relieves him of his champagne flute.
“Aw, but--” Jongin starts to protest, watching as his nearly full glass is carried away on a server’s lace-lined tray. Yixing points to the clock, and shit--it’s already 8 o’clock? Later than Jongin thought. Time sure flies when you’re standing next to your prince charming in a fitted white suit.
“Be right back,” Jongin whispers against Kyungsoo’s ear, squeezing his hand before he untangles their fingers.
Kyungsoo looks up, his eyes widening in surprise, but then Jongdae’s slinging an arm around his shoulders and trying to mess up his carefully styled hair. Jongin lets Yixing whisk him away to the back room to change, grateful for the easy distraction their friends are more than willing to provide.
“You got the music? It’s track two, don’t forget.” Jongin fumbles with his cufflinks as Yixing helps him out of his slacks and into stretchy black bottoms.
“Yup, and Minseokkie’s all ready with the lights. Rose filters, just like you asked for.”
“Thanks, Hyung.” Jongin squeezes his wrist in gratitude and gets a mouthful of staticy rayon as Yixing tugs his poet’s blouse over his head without warning.
“You look good, kid!” Yixing grins, giving him a nod in the mirror as Jongin musses up his hair with his fingers. Just a bit though, because he’s not performing a wild modern solo tonight. He’s dancing slow jazz, the choreo that Yixing helped him set almost lyrical in its flow.
Jongin prefers the thrill of sharp, heavy angles, precision calculated to perfection and rehearsed until he can perform it free of thought and simply breathe out movement as he inhales the music. But Kyungsoo--Kyungsoo melts into smooth ballads, caresses each note with the careful blink of his lashes as his heart spills out through his voice. Kyungsoo is the slow burn, steady smolder of sweet jazz, and for Jongin today is all about Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo--Jongin’s boring professional, his considerate husband, his squishy firecracker who can wield a frying pan more fiercely than Rapunzel--performed for Jongin earlier. It was part of the ceremony, Kyungsoo insisted on it, right after their exchange of rings and vows but before they sealed it with a kiss.
Kyungsoo sang and Jongin cried, he was a blubbering mess like he knew he’d be. He scrubbed away his tears with the hankie Chanyeol pressed into his hand and smiled for his mom and Joonmyun hyung, who were crying just as hard on the front row. But Jongin kept his gaze locked in Kyungsoo’s til the last note faded from his lovely eyes, and Kyungsoo wrapped him up in his slender arms to kiss away the tears from his face.
That was only a few hours ago, and Jongin declared stiffly to Sehun over dinner that he wouldn’t cry again, that earlier was just an allergic reaction to the lilies crowding the altar. But Jongin feels on the verge of tears all over again, can feel the hot mix of emotions welling in his chest and through the lacing at his collar as he fidgets on the edge of the dance floor. Sehun had given him a kind but knowing smile and clamped his hand down on Jongin’s shoulder, hard, the way Yixing is squeezing him now.
“You can do this,” Yixing says, patting Jongin’s cheek lightly before he draws back. “Break a leg!”
Then he nods to Minseok and the lights go down, and Jongdae is announcing in his radio host’s voice that the groom has a gift to perform for his husband, could the ladies and gentlemen chatting on the dance floor kindly move to the side.
Jongin steps into the spotlight, lets the warm gold and rose bathe his upturned face. Kyungsoo is just across the floor from him, front and center in the audience. His dark eyes are wide with that deer-caught-in-Jongin’s-spotlight look that makes Jongin’s knees tremble with a shiver of overwhelming affection. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are on either side of him, grinning, and Tao makes a hand heart from his perch on Sehun’s lap.
The first tendrils of the strings curl through the speakers and Jongin step into the billowing wall of liquid harmonies stretching like a pane of molten glass before him, shimmering in the light. Jongin isn’t very good with words when it comes to feelings (he may have stuttered a bit during their vows, til Kyungsoo caught his fingers in an encouraging squeeze), but if he knows one way to express himself, it’s with the emotions and heart-meanings he etches in space as he breathes, bends. Flows.
Jongin leans into the glide of the first slow turn, and he’s moving for only one person in the room right now--his forever love.
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Jongin
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluffy fluff
Disclaimer: I own nothing, written just for fun.
Summary: Jongin performs for Kyungsoo on their wedding day.
A/N: For hyuuungsoo, thanks for the prompts! <3 The other one will come soon~
Based on these songs:
My One and Only Love
Heart and Soul
I legit cried while writing this, I am such a sap >.<
Kyungsoo looks radiant today, but that’s not unusual, Jongin thinks. His husband always shines, though he isn’t often center stage. Today, though, today is their day, and Jongin has been basking in Kyungsoo’s warmth and brilliance since he opened his eyes this morning and parted his lips for a slow kiss. Soon, very soon, Jongin will fall back into bed with Kyungsoo in his arms, but for now he’s intent on memorizing every detail in the remaining moments of today.
“You just had to marry someone boring and professional,” Baekhyun sighs, swirling a noxious mixture of vodka and something electric blue in a martini glass, “but at least you married a hot one!”
“The hottest accountant in Seoul!” Jongdae agrees, squeezing Kyungsoo’s shoulders from behind. If it were any other day both their insufferable friends would be getting punched, but Kyungsoo just blushes, lips and cheeks darkening prettily against the white of his smile. Jongin can’t tell which is brighter, the flash of Kyungsoo’s perfect teeth or the sharp cut of his ivory suit.
Jongin gets to send his sexy man off to work in a suit every morning, pulling him in across the threshold to tease him with a sloppy kiss before he shoves Kyungsoo down the front steps and watches him sprint to the subway. Kyungsoo usually favors earthy tweeds and conservative pinstripes though, and Jongin’s a little disappointed they’ll have to return the rental tuxes after this weekend. Maybe he can drag Kyungsoo out for shopping on their honeymoon; they’ll be touring Paris and Milan, after all.
“Why are you still here, in your tie and trousers?” Yixing glides up to Jongin, hissing in his ear as he relieves him of his champagne flute.
“Aw, but--” Jongin starts to protest, watching as his nearly full glass is carried away on a server’s lace-lined tray. Yixing points to the clock, and shit--it’s already 8 o’clock? Later than Jongin thought. Time sure flies when you’re standing next to your prince charming in a fitted white suit.
“Be right back,” Jongin whispers against Kyungsoo’s ear, squeezing his hand before he untangles their fingers.
Kyungsoo looks up, his eyes widening in surprise, but then Jongdae’s slinging an arm around his shoulders and trying to mess up his carefully styled hair. Jongin lets Yixing whisk him away to the back room to change, grateful for the easy distraction their friends are more than willing to provide.
“You got the music? It’s track two, don’t forget.” Jongin fumbles with his cufflinks as Yixing helps him out of his slacks and into stretchy black bottoms.
“Yup, and Minseokkie’s all ready with the lights. Rose filters, just like you asked for.”
“Thanks, Hyung.” Jongin squeezes his wrist in gratitude and gets a mouthful of staticy rayon as Yixing tugs his poet’s blouse over his head without warning.
“You look good, kid!” Yixing grins, giving him a nod in the mirror as Jongin musses up his hair with his fingers. Just a bit though, because he’s not performing a wild modern solo tonight. He’s dancing slow jazz, the choreo that Yixing helped him set almost lyrical in its flow.
Jongin prefers the thrill of sharp, heavy angles, precision calculated to perfection and rehearsed until he can perform it free of thought and simply breathe out movement as he inhales the music. But Kyungsoo--Kyungsoo melts into smooth ballads, caresses each note with the careful blink of his lashes as his heart spills out through his voice. Kyungsoo is the slow burn, steady smolder of sweet jazz, and for Jongin today is all about Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo--Jongin’s boring professional, his considerate husband, his squishy firecracker who can wield a frying pan more fiercely than Rapunzel--performed for Jongin earlier. It was part of the ceremony, Kyungsoo insisted on it, right after their exchange of rings and vows but before they sealed it with a kiss.
Kyungsoo sang and Jongin cried, he was a blubbering mess like he knew he’d be. He scrubbed away his tears with the hankie Chanyeol pressed into his hand and smiled for his mom and Joonmyun hyung, who were crying just as hard on the front row. But Jongin kept his gaze locked in Kyungsoo’s til the last note faded from his lovely eyes, and Kyungsoo wrapped him up in his slender arms to kiss away the tears from his face.
That was only a few hours ago, and Jongin declared stiffly to Sehun over dinner that he wouldn’t cry again, that earlier was just an allergic reaction to the lilies crowding the altar. But Jongin feels on the verge of tears all over again, can feel the hot mix of emotions welling in his chest and through the lacing at his collar as he fidgets on the edge of the dance floor. Sehun had given him a kind but knowing smile and clamped his hand down on Jongin’s shoulder, hard, the way Yixing is squeezing him now.
“You can do this,” Yixing says, patting Jongin’s cheek lightly before he draws back. “Break a leg!”
Then he nods to Minseok and the lights go down, and Jongdae is announcing in his radio host’s voice that the groom has a gift to perform for his husband, could the ladies and gentlemen chatting on the dance floor kindly move to the side.
Jongin steps into the spotlight, lets the warm gold and rose bathe his upturned face. Kyungsoo is just across the floor from him, front and center in the audience. His dark eyes are wide with that deer-caught-in-Jongin’s-spotlight look that makes Jongin’s knees tremble with a shiver of overwhelming affection. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are on either side of him, grinning, and Tao makes a hand heart from his perch on Sehun’s lap.
The first tendrils of the strings curl through the speakers and Jongin step into the billowing wall of liquid harmonies stretching like a pane of molten glass before him, shimmering in the light. Jongin isn’t very good with words when it comes to feelings (he may have stuttered a bit during their vows, til Kyungsoo caught his fingers in an encouraging squeeze), but if he knows one way to express himself, it’s with the emotions and heart-meanings he etches in space as he breathes, bends. Flows.
Jongin leans into the glide of the first slow turn, and he’s moving for only one person in the room right now--his forever love.