[exo] perfection ( you're a drug and i'm addicted )
|| jongin x yixing | pg | romance, fluff ||
warning: #HowToGrammar // disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended whatsoever.
summary: in jongin's dictionary, zhang yixing's photo can be found under the term 'perfection'.
a/n: enjoy! o (^.^) o
**
perfection ( you're a drug and i'm addicted ) ;;
Jongin wakes up in the middle of the night - strains of faint piano music flowing in through the slightly ajar door. He groggily sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and turns to the clock on the bedside table, the one with the multi-colored glow in the dark luminous hands that Yixing had insisted on getting.
-
(Jongin had personally found it rather ridiculous - why the hell does a freaking clock need so many colors? But as usual, he had given in to the older boy’s pouting face. Call him whipped all you want, but Jongin will have you know that those pink luscious lips were pure magic. “Resistance is futile, Jongin-ah,” Yixing will always say with a short peck to Jongin’s full lips. And Jongin would fall deeper into the spell that the elder had so cleverly casted, weaving those magical binds so intricately that Jongin would have trouble escaping if he ever wanted to. Jongin is pretty sure that that day will never come. He’s perfectly content to be under Yixing’s spell, to be around him, and to be buried deep within him.
His friends, Luhan especially, would tease about how he has transformed from a tiger to a meek cat. About how Jongin was known as the infamous playboy around campus until that one fine summer’s day a Chinese transfer named Zhang Yixing waltzed his way into the younger boy’s heart and wrapped him around his pinky finger. Jongin would simply grin at them and remind them that cats have claws too, not minding the jokes and jabs made in his direction because he knows that all of them are just sore and jealous losers who want to get into his boyfriend’s pants. Especially Luhan. Jongin was certain that the blonde boy was still secretly seething over the fact that his best friend had chosen Jongin over him. It’s all in good fun though, Luhan had Wufan to keep him occupied and for the rest of the gang, well, Jongin isn’t particularly bothered.
Zhang Yixing was that sexy hot piece of ass everyone wanted, but only he could touch. And the best part was, Yixing only wants Jongin. That fact has Jongin thinking that he’s good for the rest of his life.)
-
He notes with a jaw-breaking yawn that it’s currently 3.30, and he has just been tasked by the higher-ups to bring the older boy back to bed.
Tossing the blankets to one side, Jongin crawls out of bed and begins dragging his feet towards the living room. Another wide yawn escapes him, and he scratches absently at his belly - just above the waistband of his baggy sweatpants. Shivering slightly when the cool night breeze hits his skin, Jongin comes to a halt when he reaches the end of the hallway.
Approximately thirteen steps in front of him, Yixing was sitting at the piano with his eyes closed and long slender fingers resting on the ivory keys. He looked stunning; beautiful in an out-of-this-world ethereal way, the gentle beams of moonlight that shone through the ceiling-to-floor window casting a soft almost-luminous glow to his pale porcelain white skin. As corny and cheesy as it may sound, Jongin strongly believes that the older boy is an angel. An angel in more ways than one, sent down from heaven to take Jongin out of his screwed-up directionless life and into his arms.
Jongin steps forward, a sudden ache in his very soul urging and pushing him to take Yixing into his arms. One two three four five. On his sixth step, he pauses again. Yixing had just repositioned his fingers and was now playing a very familiar tune, a melody that Jongin has heard him playing over and over again, time after time. Eyes still closed, he parts his lips and starts singing, the soft haunting and nearly melancholic voice washing over Jongin, drowning and enveloping him in a sea of emotions.
The urge to feel that warm pliant body in his arms becoming overwhelmingly unbearable, Jongin shakes his head to clear the swirling haze that has settled in his mind and all but runs over to his boyfriend, closing the remaining distance between then in a matter of a quick second.
Standing directly behind Yixing, Jongin hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around that lithe body. The haunting music comes to an abrupt stop, the notes tapering and wavering off to thin wisps of nothingness. A smile begins tugging at the corners of Jongin’s lips when he feels the older boy melt and sink into him, seemingly boneless.
He tilts his head down and drops a kiss to Yixing’s bare collarbone, mumbling across the sharp jutting bone and soft skin.
“Why aren’t you in bed? It’s late.”
Yixing hums low in his throat - bending his head back and stretching his neck, providing the younger boy with an expanse of pale delectable skin. There’s a smile in his voice as he whispers, “Why? Did you miss me?”
Jongin places feathery butterfly kisses along the length of his neck, saying nothing. When he reaches a particular spot, he bites down - hard enough to bruise, and immediately swipes his tongue over it, licking the freshly made mark. He hears a small sharp gasp and smirks, moving across to suck on the bobbing adam’s apple. “That’s your punishment for leaving me alone in bed.”
Yixing laughs throatily and says, “I take that as a yes.” He pauses for a minute, silently allowing Jongin to continue with his ministrations. “My recital is tomorrow morning; I figured I’d squeeze in a last minute practice.”
Jongin looks up and whispers - gazing into that pair of expressive brown eyes. “Why though? Why are you so intent on doing the impossible?” he straightens up and rests his chin lightly on Yixing’s auburn hair. “You’re already perfect. And there’s no way to improve perfection.”
Jongin tightens his hold on the older boy, wrapping his arms more snugly around his slender frame, and drops a kiss to the top of his head - muttering affectionately into the soft strands which smelt faintly of lavender. “Pabo-ah.”
“You really think I can impress the judges?” Yixing wrigggles around in his seat and asks softly, uncertainty in his orbs as he looks up at the younger boy. “You’re not just saying that to get me back into bed are you?”
Jongin smiles softly and lowers himself down, crouching on the balls of his feet. Taking Yixing’s hands in his larger ones, he leans up to press their lips together. “You believe me right?”
“More than my life.”
“Then trust me when I say this,” Jongin leans his forehead against Yixing’s and breathes out. “You’re going to be brilliant and blow their socks off. You’re going to be the amazing Zhang Yixing whom I love so much and be perfect.”
Yixing giggles and says simply - the uncertainty in his eyes completely gone and replaced with a mesmerizing sparkle. “Okay Jongin. I trust you.”
Jongin feels his breath catch, and leans forward to steal one more kiss - tugging the elder’s bottom lip into his mouth.
He gets to his feet and jerks his head in the direction of their bedroom. “Shall we?”
Yixing quickly turns to gently lower the lid of the piano before raising his arms up towards his lover, corners of his dancing eyes crinkling and dimple winking. “Carry me?”
Jongin’s swelling heart feels too big for his chest as he gazes down at Yixing’s beaming face. Swooping down to capture those sinfully delicious lips once more, he whispers, “God, you’re such a drug.”
“No baby. Zhang Yixing here, not God,” Yixing laughs lightly into the kiss - teeth catching onto Jongin’s full bottom lip.
Jongin breaks out into a wide grin and positions his arms, one under Yixing’s knees and the other around the shoulders. The older boy automatically winds his arms around his neck.
Jongin easily lifts Yixing up and declares, “I love you so much.”
Smiling and snuggling into Jongin’s bare chest, Yixing kisses the spot above the strong steady beat of the younger’s heart and mumbles into the skin.
“Love you too, baby.”
-
As Jongin carries Yixing in his arms bridal-style, a question crosses his mind.
“Why are you wearing only an oversized sweatshirt? Where are your pants, princess?”
“I wanted to be all matchy-matchy with you so,” Yixing grins up. “No pants for me because no shirt for you!”
Jongin stops. He blinks. Then -
“Are you wearing any underwear?”
Yixing laughs his soft musical laugh and cranes his neck to kiss the corner of Jongin’s mouth. “Well, you’re not exactly wearing a bra, are you?”
A laugh bubbles out of Jongin’s throat as well.
Perfection indeed.
***
- apparently i'm in the 'kaixing' zone or something hahaha xD not gonna lie, it feels absolutely exhilarating ^^;;
- kindly refrain from asking for a continuation. u_u
- leave a comment! please and thank you :D
also! come say hello on twitter and/or ask.fm ♥
warning: #HowToGrammar // disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended whatsoever.
summary: in jongin's dictionary, zhang yixing's photo can be found under the term 'perfection'.
a/n: enjoy! o (^.^) o
**
perfection ( you're a drug and i'm addicted ) ;;
Jongin wakes up in the middle of the night - strains of faint piano music flowing in through the slightly ajar door. He groggily sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and turns to the clock on the bedside table, the one with the multi-colored glow in the dark luminous hands that Yixing had insisted on getting.
-
(Jongin had personally found it rather ridiculous - why the hell does a freaking clock need so many colors? But as usual, he had given in to the older boy’s pouting face. Call him whipped all you want, but Jongin will have you know that those pink luscious lips were pure magic. “Resistance is futile, Jongin-ah,” Yixing will always say with a short peck to Jongin’s full lips. And Jongin would fall deeper into the spell that the elder had so cleverly casted, weaving those magical binds so intricately that Jongin would have trouble escaping if he ever wanted to. Jongin is pretty sure that that day will never come. He’s perfectly content to be under Yixing’s spell, to be around him, and to be buried deep within him.
His friends, Luhan especially, would tease about how he has transformed from a tiger to a meek cat. About how Jongin was known as the infamous playboy around campus until that one fine summer’s day a Chinese transfer named Zhang Yixing waltzed his way into the younger boy’s heart and wrapped him around his pinky finger. Jongin would simply grin at them and remind them that cats have claws too, not minding the jokes and jabs made in his direction because he knows that all of them are just sore and jealous losers who want to get into his boyfriend’s pants. Especially Luhan. Jongin was certain that the blonde boy was still secretly seething over the fact that his best friend had chosen Jongin over him. It’s all in good fun though, Luhan had Wufan to keep him occupied and for the rest of the gang, well, Jongin isn’t particularly bothered.
Zhang Yixing was that sexy hot piece of ass everyone wanted, but only he could touch. And the best part was, Yixing only wants Jongin. That fact has Jongin thinking that he’s good for the rest of his life.)
-
He notes with a jaw-breaking yawn that it’s currently 3.30, and he has just been tasked by the higher-ups to bring the older boy back to bed.
Tossing the blankets to one side, Jongin crawls out of bed and begins dragging his feet towards the living room. Another wide yawn escapes him, and he scratches absently at his belly - just above the waistband of his baggy sweatpants. Shivering slightly when the cool night breeze hits his skin, Jongin comes to a halt when he reaches the end of the hallway.
Approximately thirteen steps in front of him, Yixing was sitting at the piano with his eyes closed and long slender fingers resting on the ivory keys. He looked stunning; beautiful in an out-of-this-world ethereal way, the gentle beams of moonlight that shone through the ceiling-to-floor window casting a soft almost-luminous glow to his pale porcelain white skin. As corny and cheesy as it may sound, Jongin strongly believes that the older boy is an angel. An angel in more ways than one, sent down from heaven to take Jongin out of his screwed-up directionless life and into his arms.
Jongin steps forward, a sudden ache in his very soul urging and pushing him to take Yixing into his arms. One two three four five. On his sixth step, he pauses again. Yixing had just repositioned his fingers and was now playing a very familiar tune, a melody that Jongin has heard him playing over and over again, time after time. Eyes still closed, he parts his lips and starts singing, the soft haunting and nearly melancholic voice washing over Jongin, drowning and enveloping him in a sea of emotions.
The urge to feel that warm pliant body in his arms becoming overwhelmingly unbearable, Jongin shakes his head to clear the swirling haze that has settled in his mind and all but runs over to his boyfriend, closing the remaining distance between then in a matter of a quick second.
Standing directly behind Yixing, Jongin hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around that lithe body. The haunting music comes to an abrupt stop, the notes tapering and wavering off to thin wisps of nothingness. A smile begins tugging at the corners of Jongin’s lips when he feels the older boy melt and sink into him, seemingly boneless.
He tilts his head down and drops a kiss to Yixing’s bare collarbone, mumbling across the sharp jutting bone and soft skin.
“Why aren’t you in bed? It’s late.”
Yixing hums low in his throat - bending his head back and stretching his neck, providing the younger boy with an expanse of pale delectable skin. There’s a smile in his voice as he whispers, “Why? Did you miss me?”
Jongin places feathery butterfly kisses along the length of his neck, saying nothing. When he reaches a particular spot, he bites down - hard enough to bruise, and immediately swipes his tongue over it, licking the freshly made mark. He hears a small sharp gasp and smirks, moving across to suck on the bobbing adam’s apple. “That’s your punishment for leaving me alone in bed.”
Yixing laughs throatily and says, “I take that as a yes.” He pauses for a minute, silently allowing Jongin to continue with his ministrations. “My recital is tomorrow morning; I figured I’d squeeze in a last minute practice.”
Jongin looks up and whispers - gazing into that pair of expressive brown eyes. “Why though? Why are you so intent on doing the impossible?” he straightens up and rests his chin lightly on Yixing’s auburn hair. “You’re already perfect. And there’s no way to improve perfection.”
Jongin tightens his hold on the older boy, wrapping his arms more snugly around his slender frame, and drops a kiss to the top of his head - muttering affectionately into the soft strands which smelt faintly of lavender. “Pabo-ah.”
“You really think I can impress the judges?” Yixing wrigggles around in his seat and asks softly, uncertainty in his orbs as he looks up at the younger boy. “You’re not just saying that to get me back into bed are you?”
Jongin smiles softly and lowers himself down, crouching on the balls of his feet. Taking Yixing’s hands in his larger ones, he leans up to press their lips together. “You believe me right?”
“More than my life.”
“Then trust me when I say this,” Jongin leans his forehead against Yixing’s and breathes out. “You’re going to be brilliant and blow their socks off. You’re going to be the amazing Zhang Yixing whom I love so much and be perfect.”
Yixing giggles and says simply - the uncertainty in his eyes completely gone and replaced with a mesmerizing sparkle. “Okay Jongin. I trust you.”
Jongin feels his breath catch, and leans forward to steal one more kiss - tugging the elder’s bottom lip into his mouth.
He gets to his feet and jerks his head in the direction of their bedroom. “Shall we?”
Yixing quickly turns to gently lower the lid of the piano before raising his arms up towards his lover, corners of his dancing eyes crinkling and dimple winking. “Carry me?”
Jongin’s swelling heart feels too big for his chest as he gazes down at Yixing’s beaming face. Swooping down to capture those sinfully delicious lips once more, he whispers, “God, you’re such a drug.”
“No baby. Zhang Yixing here, not God,” Yixing laughs lightly into the kiss - teeth catching onto Jongin’s full bottom lip.
Jongin breaks out into a wide grin and positions his arms, one under Yixing’s knees and the other around the shoulders. The older boy automatically winds his arms around his neck.
Jongin easily lifts Yixing up and declares, “I love you so much.”
Smiling and snuggling into Jongin’s bare chest, Yixing kisses the spot above the strong steady beat of the younger’s heart and mumbles into the skin.
“Love you too, baby.”
-
As Jongin carries Yixing in his arms bridal-style, a question crosses his mind.
“Why are you wearing only an oversized sweatshirt? Where are your pants, princess?”
“I wanted to be all matchy-matchy with you so,” Yixing grins up. “No pants for me because no shirt for you!”
Jongin stops. He blinks. Then -
“Are you wearing any underwear?”
Yixing laughs his soft musical laugh and cranes his neck to kiss the corner of Jongin’s mouth. “Well, you’re not exactly wearing a bra, are you?”
A laugh bubbles out of Jongin’s throat as well.
Perfection indeed.
***
- apparently i'm in the 'kaixing' zone or something hahaha xD not gonna lie, it feels absolutely exhilarating ^^;;
- kindly refrain from asking for a continuation. u_u
- leave a comment! please and thank you :D
also! come say hello on twitter and/or ask.fm ♥