lowlights (2/2) ; for riseandrain

[perfectingart]

“What the-”

Jongin’s expression is priceless.

“Surprise, asshole,” Baekhyun says once his feet have landed on solid ground. So it probably wasn’t the best idea to crawl up the side of Jongin’s apartment building and in through the window. It seemed pretty fucking epic in his head, swinging in through the window like some sort of superhero, but he almost trips over his own feet and frowns when he realises he still has to make a trip back down to get his bags that he’s hid in the bushes. “Happy to see me?”

Jongin scrambles to yank the bright blue spaceship sheets over his lower half, even though he’s only in boxers (and nothing that Baekhyun hasn’t seen before). “What the hell are you doing here?” he breathes. It’s almost 2AM, last Baekhyun checked, and just Jongin whispering to keep this all on the down low sends a shiver down his spine. He feels like a rebellious teenager all over again, sneaking out with alcohol, making out with pretty senior boys in the stairwell of their apartment building.

Baekhyun grins. He even spins for effect. The ‘ta-da’ is almost involuntary as it comes out of his mouth.

“It’s me, Byun Baekhyun. Your fairy godmother,” he says, taking a step closer. “I believe this is the part where I dress you up in some brand name shit and take you to a ball to meet your prince.”

Jongin cowers against the headboard where he’s slid up and out of his covers, eyes squinting in the darkness. It takes him a few, drowsy moments, but he finally has the mind enough to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. His hair is sticking up everywhere, adorably, eyelids a bit swollen with sleep. It’s actually pretty early for Jongin to be in bed if Baekhyun recalls their late nights cramming for tests and giggling like girls; Baekhyun got loopy past midnight, Jongin got snuggly and smiley. “I think I’m still dreaming…”

Baekhyun bounds over to the bed as Jongin begins rolling over, pulling the covers over his head when Jongin tries to bury himself in them again. “Come on, princess. This is possibly one of the best things that’s happened to you all summer.”

And from under the sheets, muffled, “It’s only been a week.” Baekhyun grins, finds that he can’t stop the corners of his mouth from wrenching themselves up at every word that comes out of Jongin’s mouth. He feel the happiness all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Exactly,” he whispers through his teeth.

He throws himself over the top of Jongin, flipping him over and pinning his wrists to the bed, watching with delight as his eyes fly open, every ounce of apathy gone. He feels Jongin’s legs coming up to kick him where it hurts, so he sits on them and leans downward, face so close to Jongin’s that he can hear him breathing. In the light, he even catches the quiver of Jongin’s lip.

“So,” he whispers, low, “how about you come down and help me get my bags?”

And that’s when he’s shoved off the bed.

“You do realise my parents are just down the hall, right.” It’s much less of a question, more of a warning. After fighting Jongin on the sheer brilliance of his idea to show up unannounced all the way downstairs to retrieve his measly amount of luggage, he’s taken to firmly informing Baekhyun of every detail that he has to watch for now that he’s here. And in between, an anxious comment about being found out, a rule-followers worried exclamations. Baekhyun’s sure that this visit isn’t good for a worrier like him.

“Of course,” he replies, putting a finger to his own lips as they curl up. “I’ll be quiet. Promise.”

Jongin sighs, pulling off his socks as he flops back onto his bed. “Remind me why you couldn’t use the front door?” he groans, watching intently as Baekhyun rummages through his bag and sheds his jeans in favour of a pair of dark sweatpants.

“Well, noise factor, obviously. But then there was also the whole element of surprise that was just much more achievable through the window,” he says very matter-of-factly, crawling into bed next to Jongin. “A grand guest has to make a grand entrance.” Jongin rolls his eyes and pushes against Baekhyun.

“And you think I’m letting you sleep in the bed?”

Baekhyun nuzzles against him, eyes widening. It’s a poor attempt at the puppy eyes that Chanyeol is so damn good at, but he tries it out anyway. “Yes?”

“No.” Baekhyun grips him tighter, wiggles in closer.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve missed me,” he coos, so close to Jongin’s ear that he quickly itches at his ear with his shoulder from the tickle of his breath.

“Seriously, it’s only been a week,” he growls. But Baekhyun can feel him caving, arms going from a loose, limp hold to curling more definitely around Baekhyun’s waist. This position isn’t unfamiliar to them, but it feels especially meaningful when Baekhyun’s trekked several hundred miles across Seoul just to do this. To make sure that Jongin isn’t causing his family trouble, to see if the heat is making things worse for Jongin like it is for him. Kyungsoo yelled at him all week for busting the lights in the front room last Thursday, even though Chanyeol had only just burnt Kyungsoo’s toothbrush to a crisp.

“Hello?”

Baekhyun comes out of his reverie to Jongin waving hand in front of his face. “What?” Swimming in his own thoughts, he must’ve missed what Jongin said.

“Why does it matter so much?” he mumbles again, into Baekhyun’s hair. It’s too hot to be pressed up against each other like this and it’s even worse with the covers on, but he can’t say he cares too much about the sweat beading up at his hairline. Jongin always sweats more than him anyway.

“What do you mean?”

He’s already thinking of an answer before Jongin clarifies the question. He vaguely wonders if Jongin knows the answer, too. “Why does it matter if I transport myself halfway around the world and snap in half? Or if my parents find out?” Baekhyun snorts.

“Well, I kind of like you in one piece,” he says, impudent. “And as for your parents… Well. Not everyone has a head-of-PTA support system like Chanyeol’s overly enthusiastic cheerleader parents.” The next sentence catches in his throat, the sound of the bed creaking being the only thing he can hear. “And they could be like-well. Like my parents.”

At first he thought it was the anger-the disappointment that came with having a near-perfect first child-but later, as it manifested itself in distance and locked doors and missed high school choir concerts, fear seemed to be the more obvious reason for the disconnect. He hasn’t seen his mom in months, but it’s almost been year since he’s seen his dad. He doesn’t tell Jongin that, but he hopes the tone will carry enough of the message that he won’t question it. And he doesn’t.

“I’m hiding you under the bed during the day. Or in the closet,” Jongin says quietly, fingers stroking Baekhyun’s hair. Well, that’s a relief. He’s finally opening up to the idea of stashing a wild Baekhyun in his room.

“I can and will blind you. You should be celebrating my presence.”

“Shut up,” he says, yawning. “You woke me up. I’ll start celebrating when I know you’re asleep.”

And just like that, tangled up in each other’s arms on a way too warm summer night, he hums in agreement and falls asleep. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The next morning gets a little difficult. Baekhyun just thanks God that Jongin’s mother has the decency to knock before swinging the door open while Baekhyun crawls underneath the blankets so fast that Jongin’s ankles knock painfully into his shin. It’s surprisingly not the first time he’s stayed the night at someone’s house, only to have to sneak past parents in the kitchen on his way out, but the circumstances are obviously quite different.

Apart from the actual escape, Baekhyun hasn’t really planned anything else in regards to this trip. Since he’s not really allowed to leave Jongin’s room unless both of them are out (and Jongin’s mother does have part time work in the afternoon apparently), he’s forced to lie on Jongin’s bed and play around on his phone for several hours while Jongin goes out shopping with his mom that first morning. He’s knee deep in texts and missed calls from Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but he only takes the effort to answer them both back with a quick, In Busan. See you ladies later :) ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Kyungsoo says he’s going to kill him. Chanyeol tells him to use protection. He throws his phone at the end of the bed and reads instead.

When Jongin finally gets home, he’s by himself, his mom already off to work. Baekhyun’s asleep in his bed, drool peeking out the corner of his mouth and arm slung over the side. Jongin lands right on top of him when he jumps on the bed, and Baekhyun releases a steady stream of curses as the air whooshes out of his lungs. It’s barely noon and after Jongin rambles about an octopus that tried to kill him at the market, they both conk out again, one of Jongin’s sturdy legs flung over the knob of Baekhyun’s hip.

Baekhyun wakes up first. Once he pokes Jongin in the ribs a few obnoxious times, he’s awake too, and less than excited when Baekhyun suggests they go outside and practise for a bit.

“But it’s vacation,” Jongin reiterates for the third time, voice coming out in a heady whine. "You come to my home unannounced and now you wanna work me to death. This doesn’t seem fair.”

Baekhyun jumps to his feet, whirling around to ruffle Jongin’s hair. His stomach twists every time he sees him post-sleep, all wild haired and swollen lips. If he hadn’t slept so much already, he might drag himself right back into bed and wind himself around Jongin just a little longer. He shudders at the sickeningly sweet thought. “Look, you’ve already gotten lazy. Seriously, it’s been a week,” he mocks, really only amusing himself.

They practise on the side of the building. The goal is to go just a fraction of an inch farther, each time, avoiding as much bodily harm as possible. The days of spontaneous nosebleeds and cataclysmic fainting are long gone, but there’s the occasional headache now and then that sometimes even persists for the remainder of the day. It’s more challenging here since Baekhyun isn’t really familiar with the area and Jongin’s not good enough to go anywhere he hasn’t seen before (Google Earth is surprisingly helpful for teleporters, Kyungsoo’d figured out), but Jongin’s childhood memories of the surrounding city manages to get him through an hour of zapping back and forth, one geographic coordinate to the next. In Seoul, it was Baekhyun doing the work, making him study maps and landmarks and carting him around from district to district until he was ready to teleport there. His record stands at the outskirts of Bucheon, a good twelve miles or so out from the university, but anything farther than that and the headaches just get splitting.

Jongin tries (and fails) to get Baekhyun to attempt joint teleportation, and groans when Baekhyun lectures him for a good five minutes about how it’s really only a theory, it might not even be possible, one of us could sliced clean in half, etc., etc.… Yixing is the only one that’s ever claimed to have met other teleporters, so his information’s a jumble of wives’ tales and rumours and shaky personal accounts-likely just as reliable as Jongin’s claims that he’s successfully transported a bee with him to the dance room by accident. He’s too scared out his fucking mind to remind Jongin that he’d successfully been the one to transport them back into his dorm that first time they met, but he’s afraid that even mentioning it will put unrealistic ideas into Jongin’s head. He’d wiped clean out that first time, and Baekhyun just thinks that it’s luck that kept him alive then. He’s not taking his chances again. Not yet, at least.

Jongin gets a good nine miles out before coming back and collapsing on the grass, clothes drenched. When Baekhyun asks about it, Jongin replies with an exhausted, “Irrigated farm land, not the field I used to play in,” and Baekhyun loses it, doubling over until he ribs ache and his eyes are watery. Doesn’t quite beat the time that Jongin supposedly knocked over some crotchety ahjumma who then came after him with her umbrella, but it still makes his list-whatever that list is.

They down a late lunch at some convenient store that Jongin remembers going to in high school and Baekhyun lets Jongin entertain him with stories about sneaking out to watch dance competitions and taking some girl to his favourite ballet when all she wanted to do (and ended up doing) was stick her tongue down his throat. Baekhyun wonders how he hit it off with a kid who’s most rebellious leap during his teen years involved badmouthing foreigners on the subway and sneaking into extra movies after he only paid for the first, but things seem oddly balanced like this. Baekhyun’s swapped stories before, but as far as a lack of a moral compass goes, he definitely makes Jongin’s anecdotes look like nursery rhymes.

When they’re back in the comfort of Jongin’s room-the old Nintendo having been uncovered from the depths of his frighteningly cluttered closet-Jongin abruptly lowers his head into Baekhyun’s lap. He starts to lose his ability to kick Baekhyun’s ass in their heated game of Super Mario Brothers, but he doesn’t move and Baekhyun doesn’t care.

“I’m glad you came,” he mumbles from his lap. Baekhyun can’t see his expression, but he almost hears the smile in his voice. It makes his ears heat up and his gut churns as he frowns. He’s only ever touchy with Jongin when he’s trying to persuade him or when he wants something, so the way that this scene plays out so naturally has his head swimming. He bats at him with his controller and scoffs when Jongin loses like he’s never played the game before in his life.

“I want a fucking rematch. You weren’t even trying!” he grunts in frustration, choosing to put Jongin’s earlier confession out of his mind. Jongin just looks up at him and gives him this big, sappy grin, all teeth and scrunched up eyes. He finds it infuriatingly difficult to spit fire when he’s looking at him like that, but he throws a fit anyway and continues to demand another game, nearly shitting himself when they hear the front door. He tells Jongin repeatedly to shut up when he laughs too hard at the sight of Baekhyun shoving himself in the tiny closet.

Jongin steps out for a good ten minutes and comes back with a glass of water, handing it to him through a small slit in the door and desperately tries to contain his laughter when he says that this is going to be more fun than he’d anticipated. Baekhyun snatches it from him, takes a swig, and tells him go suck a dick.

They fall into a routine: Baekhyun commandeers the bed sometime past midnight with Jongin forced to wriggle his way in, the both of them getting only a few hours of sleep before an alarm goes off to remind them to move Baekhyun to Jongin’s sisters’ old room. Or at least something temporary until Jongin’s mother comes in and demands that Jongin gets up too and isn’t idle all day. They don’t have much freedom until the afternoon and Baekhyun spends a good portion of those mornings at the nearest coffee shops and PC bangs waiting for Jongin to text him. After that it’s practise, wandering around and checking out the local attractions, and more pathetic rounds of Super Mario Brothers-Baekhyun totally lets him win.

When Kyungsoo calls him five days into his trip, it's to ask when he's going to start paying child support; apparently Chanyeol is worse than Baekhyun when it comes to keeping up with household chores and is driving Kyungsoo up the wall. Baekhyun never noticed it before, but he thinks it's because he's always managed to wiggle out of the mundane stuff by convincing Kyungsoo it'd be shamefully inadequate if he were the one to clean whatever it is. Kyungsoo would just pick up the slack after reluctantly agreeing. At least he isn't expected to clean here. Not that he can make much of a mess when he's eating out for almost every meal and living out of his suitcase.

Later that day when they're out at the park, Jongin beats his record, reaching out past eighteen miles and coming back with the biggest smile Baekhyun's ever seen. He says he feels a little lightheaded, but it's a surprisingly fair trade for the distance he's just gone. Baekhyun wraps him up in a tight embrace, tries to steady his pulse when he feels Jongin's lips brush against his neck as he leans down to Baekhyun's height and buries his face in the crook of his shoulder. Something in him stirs when Jongin says that he wishes he could take him along every time, wander around the places that he ends up and enjoy them longer than ten minutes. Maybe one day he'll have the energy for something like that.

"The King," he says that night when Jongin walks into the bedroom, shaking his wet head of hair, freshly showered. "I'm impressed."

Jongin rolls his eyes and crashes down on the bed next to him. "Still seems pathetic for someone who essentially has the ability to zip through space at the speed of light. We could be in Europe right now or something." When Jongin's fingers lace with his, he freezes.

"Europe, huh?" He cranes his neck so he can see Jongin's face. It's dark, but there's some light coming in through the window from the moon and the city lights. He dims them the most microscopic amount and squeezes his eyes shut. Lets the tips of his fingers trace the lines in Jongin's hand, listens to his rhythmic breathing. He breathes in sharply, like the scent of Jongin's coconut shampoo'll fade and presses closer just so he can feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

There’s something different about tonight, even though they’ve done this several hundred times, in school and out. Like he can feel the thrum of excitement through Jongin’s veins the harder he presses, like they’re both feeling post-success glory swallow them whole. It feels strangely like Baekhyun’s proud of him, and this achievement just makes this short time together so much more precious. Sounds sappy the minute the thought runs through his head, but for once he doesn’t try to push it out. Just scoots closer, licks his lips.

When Jongin notices that he's staring, he bends toward him like a magnet, eyes visibly crinkling in the darkness, foreheads touching. They could stay like this for days, weeks, months and Baekhyun couldn’t complain. "Hyung…"

It takes a couple of slow, drowsy seconds for Jongin's hand to make it's way to the small of Baekhyun's back, shirt bunched up with skin exposed and burning against Jongin's calloused hands. But it takes half a second for Baekhyun to see where this is going-to see where this has always been going, and he pulls back with arduous effort, hands on Jongin’s chest stopping either of them from moving. He sees the look on Jongin’s face, only a glimmer of disappointment when the right amount of light shines on it, and he suddenly feels like he’s cracking in half.

He decidedly rolls over, careful to avoid Jongin’s gaze. He grumbles out a quick, “I’m tired, goodnight,” and screws his eyes shut, already trying to glaze over the past few minutes with other things. He hears Jongin as he audibly clears his throat, and rolls over too. They’re only a few inches apart, but it suddenly seems like miles.

When their routine starts all over again the next day, they both carry on like nothing happened. And for all intents and purposes, nothing did. But as Baekhyun wraps a sure arm around Jongin’s waist later that afternoon, listening to Jongin talk about ballet terminology mixed with travel plans for when he’s a better teleporter, he wonders if it would be so bad for something to actually happen.

Between afternoons of studying for a summer cram school that Jongin’s mother’s forced on him and eating like twelve year old boys in the height of puberty, something does happen, but it’s not the something that Baekhyun’s been fretting over for the past week. Jongin’s running through some techniques he’s learned that help him while he teleports and Baekhyun is vegging out on the grass of some big field they found, eyes glued to his phone. Because of a late night out with his parents the day before, Jongin’s exhausted and literally hasn’t stopped complaining about how he would rather sleep since they left home. His parents are in Jeju for the weekend-some romantic getaway or some shit-and Baekhyun’s more than happy to have the mornings to sleep in until Monday.

It’s Baekhyun’s third week here and he has to wonder when ‘going home’ will have to mean back to his shared apartment with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo again. Until then, when Jongin jogs over to end their session and says ‘let’s go home’, it means home with Jongin, home with the only person he really cares about seeing these days anyway.

“I think that one day might’ve been a fluke,” Baekhyun says teasingly as he pulls himself up off the ground, in reference to Jongin’s record-setting distance. Jongin throws something just as snarky back at him, but he doesn’t catch it before his hands are gripping his shoulders and whining again about going home. His reply is caught in his throat when he feels it-that same feeling he remembers from their very first meeting, that inexplicable squashing of every one of his cells as he parts with the ground with a small pop.

And just as quickly as it happens, he’s in Jongin’s front room, lets out a shaky breath in one, ungraceful huff like he’s been holding it in. His knees buckle and he falls into Jongin’s arms like jello. Vision hazy, ears ringing, he takes a few minutes to come down from it.

“Hyung? Hyung, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he hears Jongin rambling, setting him down on the couch. His first real, coherent thought is wondering why this didn’t happen on his first go, but he doesn’t have the patience to figure it out. It’s not like it hurts, it just feels weird, a bit like he’s been strangely violated by some force of nature and it’s an odd two minutes of getting back on his feet before feeling perfectly normal again.

He brushes himself off, shakes his head and tells him not to worry about it. So, it’s possible. And it was just fine. He mostly wants to hit himself for being so paranoid all this time, but it’s a pointless exercise. Now, it’s just another thing for Jongin to practise.

Jongin consistently feels bad about it for the next couple of house, constantly asking Baekhyun how his head feels, if he can get him something to drink, if he wants to bed to himself tonight. It’s overkill, but Baekhyun’s still too speechless to appear the slightest bit relieved about the situation. He’s glad that Jongin can do it, but it also opens up a slew of other dangerous doors, ones where Jongin teleports with one person too many, too far, and that’s that. Kyungsoo was right: when did he start worrying so much?

“I think I should go back soon. To the apartment,” Baekhyun announces when they’re curled up on the couch watching reruns of variety shows. He feels Jongin shifting next to him, the arm draped across his shoulders sliding off so he can turn to look at him, expectantly. “I don’t know, I just think that you’re doing fine. I’m not really helping anything here. Or hurting it. Kyungsoo’s about to go crazy without me, surprisingly.”

“Already? What happened to you forcing yourself on me for the rest of the summer?” Jongin asks, genuinely curious.

“Chanyeol said it’s not the same without me, and you, frankly. You snore.” Jongin swats at him for that.

“I do not!” he snaps, shoving Baekhyun playfully but successfully launching him off the couch and onto the floor. He lands with a dull thud and turns around to smack Jongin’s shin. Jongin doesn’t always snore, but enough to be used as blackmail. “You drool, you know. In the mornings, your mouth is always all gross and wet-”

Baekhyun battles his way back into his spot, now suppressing a growing grin. Jongin’s already bursting into high pitched giggles as Baekhyun holds his face into the couch. “Nice to know you were looking,” he says, his tone flirting with the more suggestive side. The show that’s playing becomes background noise and is completely forgotten when Baekhyun pulls himself into Jongin’s lap.

“It’s kind of hard to miss when you look like this.” Jongin reenacts it, spreads himself out in a five-pointed star across the couch and lets his jaw hang open and his eyes cross. Baekhyun punches him in the gut for that.

It’s right then that the air gets thicker, that Jongin seems to realise the position they’re in, and Baekhyun thinks it’s last week’s incident all over again. Except they don’t have to hide. Baekhyun doesn’t have to hide. If he feels like admitting it (and he doesn't), some similar scene has made its way into his dreams for the past couple of nights, so having Jongin pinned to the couch while he looks at him in awe is hardly shocking. But for being as unsurprised as he is, the blood in veins decides it makes more sense to pump through his system at a twice its regular speed. His head's pounding.

Jongin reaches out slowly, like he’s trying not to scare him off, and barely traces his fingers across Baekhyun’s jaw. He’s clearly testing the waters, making sure that this won’t be a repeat of last week, and tugs the corners of his mouth up just slightly when Baekhyun leans into the touch. Baekhyun actually feels the twist of his stomach when he falls forward just a little more, close enough to where their noses touch. Even with the TV humming in the background, the only thing Baekhyun hears is the sound of Jongin breathing, heavy and slow. All he wants to do is close the distance between them. He realises that's all he's ever wanted. Maybe even from the beginning.

"Jongin," he whispers, winding one of his hands into Jongin's hair.

"Hyung-"

"Touch me." The words come out in a gruff, needy whisper as he shifts a bit, lets his body naturally lean to the right with the rest of him as he closes in on the side of Jongin's face, placing a feather-light kiss just beneath his ear. From all the stories he's heard, Jongin's as inexperienced as any typical middle school church boy and he only hopes that he's reading this right. That Jongin's finally caught on, feels the sudden ache in his chest like Baekhyun does whenever his hands slide across exposed skin, understands what he means when he asks him to put his hands on him. "It's okay," he says belatedly when he feels Jongin stalling, bringing Jongin's hands upward to rest on his waist.

"Is this a good idea?" Jongin asks, timid, fingers crumpling in the folds of Baekhyun's shirt as his forehead creases with concern.

Baekhyun pulls back for a second, just to get a better look at the confused look on Jongin's face. "I said it's okay, so it's okay. If you don't want to…" He's not even quite sure what he's referring to-how far Jongin is willing to go, he doesn't know. He doesn't want to push him into anything he doesn't want to do, but he also wants Jongin to bend underneath him, to shout his name a thousand times before coming undone, to kiss him. That much suddenly becomes painfully clear.

Jongin shakes his head and pushes off the couch a little more so he can meet Baekhyun in the middle. "No, I-I want to. I want you." And then his mouth his on his, moving against it, proving it. It feels simple, far from rushed, still extremely tentative. Then Baekhyun's tongue comes out to trace the swell of his lower lip, laving the roof of his mouth and letting his hands wander up Jongin's sides. Jongin gasps into the kiss, head falling back when Baekhyun fastens himself more closely to him, groins brushing as he more tightly straddles him.

He quickly decides that he could kiss Jongin forever if he let him, but the impatient slide of Jongin's hands underneath his shirt prove that to be impossible. He presses Jongin more insistently into the couch as he moves his mouth to his jaw and down to his neck, sucking intently on a spot just off to the right of a big vein. Squirming beneath him and already panting, Baekhyun thinks that this is exactly what he wants too. He wants Jongin and nothing else. He wants to press him into the couch, up against the wall, into the mattress and fuck him silly, all to let him know that this past year has meant something. Took them long enough, but as he feels blunt nails scrape along the length of his back, he can't begin to care.

And when Baekhyun suggests they move to the bedroom, Jongin's so wrapped up in this that he can't seem to let his lips leave some part of Baekhyun long enough for them to get much farther than past the kitchen and into the hallway, where they stumble against the wall and Jongin hugs himself closer as he kisses him, hands twisting in Baekhyun's hair. With some effort, they finally make their way into Jongin's room, Baekhyun already tugging at Jongin's shirt.

"Off," he manages between kisses, helping Jongin yank the garment off over his head. He pushes him backwards, toppling over him as Jongin's legs hit the wooden frame and he falls over onto the bed. Like he so easily does, Jongin's already sweating and Baekhyun relishes the feeling of heated skin under his hands at they skate up his chest, lifting Jongin's body toward him from the shoulders as he sucks another kiss on the underside of his jaw.

Then Jongin's laughing, eyes scrunching up as Baekhyun starts working at his belt buckle. He slows down and looks up. "What?"

"We're actually doing this," he says breathlessly, running his fingers down Baekhyun's arms. Baekhyun sits up a little, still straddling him, and scoots up so he can plant another kiss on Jongin's lips to shut him up.

"You sound surprised," Baekhyun mumbles in reply, grin spreading across his face at the way Jongin's nose crinkles. Then, a fresh wave of worry spreading through his chest, it occurs to him, "Jongin… Have you ever…?"

Jongin catches on quickly and shakes his head. Baekhyun's fucked a lot of guys and girls down the road (well, 'a lot' being relative), but as he watches the ripple of Jongin's taut muscles under his fingers he remembers that he might be alone in this accomplishment. And sure enough, slanting his mouth across the Jongin's fluttering pulse as he tugs at his hair makes him think that he's never been touched like this before. Hasn't had a tongue down his the flat of his sternum, doesn't shudder when something other than his own right hand brushes up against his crotch and elicits a high, heady pant from Jongin's throat. Jongin laughs, low and nervous in embarrassment, hands coming up to cover his eyes at the sounds he's making.

"Come on," Baekhyun croons, reaching up to peel Jongin's hands away, "We don't have to be quiet." His other hand works deftly at the button and zipper of Jongin's jeans, taking a second to press his thumbs into the the dip of Jongin's hips, watching the tremor go through his body in response.

Before he can get his pants down a single inch, Jongin's hand is on the nape of his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. He still kisses slowly, lips moving like he's unsure of everything, and it takes Baekhyun scraping his teeth across his lower lip and catching it between them to coax Jongin out of his passive, neat movements. Then he's really kissing back-mouth moving with Baekhyun's, sloppy, wet and dirty, hands travelling underneath his shirt like he needs this. Baekhyun ruts his hips forward, pushes himself against Jongin's body, tells him silently that he needs this, too.

"-Seriously?" he hears Jongin's muffled reply as he detaches himself from Jongin's mouth, only to move back to his neck to plant bruising kisses down the length of his collarbones and across his shoulder. He's dimmed the lights, slowly letting them fade to a warm glow and then Jongin's laughing again.

"Hey, this is what my powers are practically meant for," he retorts, catching Jongin's fond gaze before dipping down and smiling against his neck. Just for show, he makes the lights overhead and the lamp cycle through the entire spectrum, and Jongin lazily shoves at him. "There's a reason I was a hit with the ladies."

"What, the football players didn't appreciate the lowlights and rose petals?" Jongin says, gripping the back of Baekhyun's jeans. From here, even Baekhyun can hear Jongin's heartbeat thundering in his ribcage.

"There were never any rose petals, dumbass," he says, hoisting himself but up and pinning Jongin's wrists on either side of his head. He can hear the breath catch in Jongin's throat. "I'm classier than that."

After kissing his lips swollen, Jongin finally gets Baekhyun out of his shirt. He's still a little tentative about every step, but Baekhyun thinks that he likes it, the way that Jongin pauses before looking straight at him and starts on the buttons of his shirt.

"Can I…?" he asks when Baekhyun's shirt is somewhere in the corner of the room. As if he needs to ask permission. Baekhyun just guides his hands along his torso, and down to the buckle of his jeans.

Despite his initial shyness, Jongin takes over, reaches past Baekhyun's underwear and wraps his hand around the base of his dick and drags it up, thumb ghosting across the tip. Baekhyun whines against the skin of Jongin's shoulder, burying his head in the crook. The pressure of Jongin's hand is making his head light and the edges of his vision fuzzy. The quick movements aren't very practised but there's already wetness gathering at the tip, his body tensing in tandem with Jongin's, arching into the stuttering pulls and panting shallowly. The tight feeling is already building in his stomach, warm and buzzing.

Baekhyun's teeth clench as he pulls back, "Jongin, wait-" he says, stopping Jongin by the wrist, pulling his hand out. He doesn't want to come-not yet. He hasn't even touched Jongin, and he can feel him shaking with desire beneath him. He sits back and shimmies out of his jeans, then takes to ridding Jongin of his. When they're both completely naked, Baekhyun takes a long couple of seconds to admire the person in front of him. Skin shiny with perspiration, muscles toned and bones jutting out perfectly for Baekhyun to run his tongue along the protrusions and valleys. How did he go all this time without realising what he was missing?

Jongin's dick is flushed red against his stomach, already leaking. So, Baekhyun presses Jongin by his shoulders into the sheets of the unmade bed and smiles when Jongin's eyes meet his, smirks when his fingernails run the lightest trail along the shaft and a breathless fuck slips past Jongin's lips. He wants this to feel amazing, wants Jongin to feel so good that he feels this through his fingertips and feels it for days, and that's admittedly an odd desire for him. But he lays Jongin back against the pillows and kisses him square on the lips anyway, grinning widely into it.

"Can I try something?" Baekhyun asks, despite telling Jongin earlier that he doesn't need to ask permission, just take what he wants. Jongin bites his lip and nods, eyes wide as he observes, Baekhyun moving back and lowering himself. His fingers dig into the crest of Jongin's hips, lips smacking when he's at eye level with his dick. Experimentally he takes the tip in his mouth and sucks.

Baekhyun also decides he likes the sounds that Jongin makes. He's whining, high and in the back of his throat and Baekhyun vaguely wonders how his roommates would feel about it being his ringtone.

He tongues the underside, places a steady hand around the base to make up for what he's missing, and peeks up at Jongin's face from underneath his eyelashes, reveling in how his jaw drops when he does something especially good and his hands tighten in his hair.

"Baekhyun-" His fingernails are digging into his scalp and Baekhyun knows he's close, feels Jongin's legs kicking up beside his head and back arching against the bed. "Hyung."

He pulls away with a wet pop and places his hands on either side of him, letting him cool down.

"Why'd…you stop?" Jongin breathes. Baekhyun drags himself upward again, presses another wanton kiss to Jongin's lips and just smirks.

"So needy," he mumbles and narrowly avoids the swing of Jongin's arm to his shoulder. "Wait a second." And when Jongin's finally breathing somewhat normal again, he latches onto his hips again, pulls their groins flush against each other and rolls against him-a touch so light that Jongin's hips are bucking up, seeking more friction than Baekhyun's willing to give him.

He reaches a hand between them and pulls at their dicks together, Jongin's head rolling back in response and Baekhyun's brain going blank from relief. Burying his head in the crook of Jongin's neck again, he starts loosely and burns with an infuriatingly slow pace just to watch Jongin's array of expressions, listens to himself whimper like it's an out-of-body experience, scratches at the skin of Jongin's neck with his teeth as he moans. Then he's kissing him just as slowly but he hears Jongin whining his name again, and it's that reason alone that makes him want to continue like this. He needs to hear his name, dredged up as it rolls of Jongin's tongue, so he kisses him harder, pumps faster.

A few more minutes of increasingly faster strokes and laboured breaths and heavy gasps, and Jongin's arching off the bed again. Baekhyun's breathing him in, calling his name when he feels the heat in his stomach pooling and the muscles in his legs going taut. He tightens his grip, pulls twice, and then Jongin's spilling into his palm.

When Baekhyun follows a few seconds after, Jongin's name on his lips, his other hand digging into Jongin's thigh, the fucking lightbulb in the lamp bursts. He doesn't think he's come so hard in his life. The shards across the nightstand are in agreement and Jongin's jerks his head in the direction of the sound. Baekhyun shrugs, body shaking with breathy laughs.

When they finally come down from it, Jongin's still holding Baekhyun against him like he'll float away if he lets go. Baekhyun lazily mouths at his collar bone, heaves out a shaky breath, and jolts when Jongin starts laughing.

"I feel like-should I say something?" he asks awkwardly, pitching his voice low as he pulls Baekhyun closer into the circle of his arms. Baekhyun just looks up at him, smirking.

"Don't ruin this for me," he mutters. The afterglow is something he hasn't enjoyed in years. Quickies in the bathroom, one night mistakes. Even with come drying on his stomach (his dick twitching at the thought), and the room at least fifty degrees warmer than when they first stumbled in, sweat beading across his forehead and back, lying here feels right. This is right.

He pulls Jongin closer, shutting his eyes. "If you snore tonight, I swear I will kick you out of bed." And Jongin laughs, nuzzling closer as Baekhyun pulls the blanket over them.

"And you're fixing the lamp tomorrow. You're just lucky I didn't teleport or something."

Baekhyun supposes he can't really argue with that. So he doesn't, just curls up against him and tells Jongin to shut up and close his eyes before things get too awkward, falling asleep with a smile on his face.

The next day, Baekhyun fixes the lamp. Begrudgingly, but he does it. The morning was spent in bed, waking up next to a warm body and a shy Jongin. When Baekhyun laces their fingers together and Jongin gives him this toothy grin that reaches his eyes, the shyness fades and Baekhyun immediately scratches this trip off his Stupidest Decisions list. He starts a new list instead; there's hardly anything on it, but maybe his best decisions can start with this one.

Jongin's parents aren't back until Monday night, so the house is theirs for the remainder of Sunday and most of Monday. Baekhyun thinks that he should take this slow, let the previous night sink in before anything letting this progress any further, but he finds himself trapped against the kitchen counter that afternoon, hands finding purchase in Jongin's hair as he persuades him with an insistent let me and lets Baekhyun's sweats fall to the floor.

From there, it's like Jongin can't get enough, can't detach himself from Baekhyun for a single second, and it's the same thing over and over again that night, the next morning-the rest of the week. He's only surprised that it didn't happen sooner, but he blames it all on his own naïveté for thinking from the start that the only thing that mattered was Jongin's shiny new powers and lesson after lesson on controlling them. There were days where he should've known, times when Jongin rested in the crook of his arm when Sehun was trying to talk to him, nights where Jongin stayed up late with Baekhyun while he studied just to keep him from crashing at his desk. That should've told him everything he needed to know.

They spend their week engrossed in each other and even though Baekhyun finds it a bit sickening how easy it is, he immediately changes his mind when Jongin cocks his brow, gives him this look and presses him into the nearest surface, trying to stay quiet underneath the covers.

And he thinks that he doesn't ever want it to stop.