chelsea's birthday fic junk!!
today is chelsea's (spatkisa 's) birthday and even though she opened my present a while ago?? i did some stuff because i really really love her. and i know it's terrible because hey it's me but?? yeah. unbeta'd because i wouldn't subject anyone to this. please have zero expectations.
setao - catboys home is when I'm alone with you
"You know if you keep wearing my shirts every day, they'll just be yours and the magic'll be gone," Zitao muses, making his grand entrance into the kitchen a little before noon. His sleek black tail waves lazily behind him, almost grazing the hardwood flooring, and he yawns wide enough to flash his pointed incisors.
"I'd say fuck you, but I think that's already been taken care of," Sehun responds, brushing some crumbs from the front of the graphic Ed Hardy tee clinging loosely to his thin frame. It's just long enough to cover the pale skin of his thighs. Letting his eyes wander, Zitao smiles and scratches the back of his head, choosing not to respond. He watches Sehun clear away the dishes from his own late breakfast and Zitao's stomach growls quietly.
Sehun's white-tipped ears swivel at the sound and he unceremoniously dumps his his dirty dishes into the sink before approaching the fridge. The bowl and accompanying spoon clatter against the sink's metallic insides and Zitao sees a shudder crawl down the length of Sehun's spine.
"Worked up a little bit of an appetite?" The other boy questions. Zitao shrugs, dismissing both the question and the resonating waves of sound still pulsing through their small kitchenette. His ears flick briefly as the sound fades, willing away the urge to wince.
"Maybe just a little bit," He concedes, sliding his socked feet across the smooth floor to join Sehun in front of the fridge. His tail twines gently with Sehun's as they stand side by side, the fridge bathing them both in cold artificial light.
"I can make you some eggs," Sehun offers, pushing a jug of milk to the side. His fingers pause on a carton of eggs, posing a simple question.
"So the usual eggshell surprise?" Zitao jibes, squeezing Sehun's shoulder gently, and he laughs, bending over to peer into the lower shelves. He hears Sehun huff and his tail flicks angrily away from Zitao's own. The other boy, quicker than he usually is in the morning, frees himself from Zitao's gentle grip and sidesteps away.
"If you don't like my cooking, maybe you should make your own breakfast," Sehun says drily and stalks out of the kitchen, tail waving angrily behind him.
Now you fucked up. Zitao yawns again and rolls his eyes. Deciding he could live without breakfast for a little while longer, he follows the other boy into the living room for some damage control. Sehun is always a bit touchy in the mornings, still cranky from being woken up by their neighbours water heater groaning to life at six, something Zitao has no problem sleeping through. He hears the soft whump of his boyfriend most likely face-planting into the couch and he finds Sehun seconds later, exactly as predicted, face down in the cushions.
"You know I was only kidding around, you big baby," Zitao says, climbing on top of Sehun to straddle his hips. Sehun grumbles something in response, but it's muffled by the cushion beneath him. He repeats whatever he was trying to say moments before, but it still comes out a garbled mess of sofa and vowels.
"What?" Zitao asks as Sehun's arms flail blindly behind his back, his tail wrapping itself around Zitao's neck. It's not quite strong enough to strangle him, and for that Zitao is grateful. He bucks violently, nearly knocking Zitao off his perch atop Sehun's butt and he has to steady himself with a hand in the younger's hair.
"You're crushing me you fucking oaf," Sehun wheezes, head now turned to the side so he can breathe. Zitao frowns and slides backwards off Sehun's hips, settling between his legs. He shakes his hand and a few blond strands of Sehun's hair float to the carpeted floor. Sehun sits up slowly and shoots Zitao a dirty look. He seems angry, but his eyes are bright and his cheek are flushed rosy pink.
"Meanie," Sehun says after a few seconds of trying to calm the new tangles in his blond hair, ears flat against his head. Zitao's tshirt, now ridden up under Sehun's armpits, exposes the pale skin of his torso. A fading hickey stands stark against the skin above his hip and Zitao unconsciously licks his lips.
"What're you staring at, moron?" Sehun snaps and tugs the shirt back down, eyeing him warily.
Eager to end their spat, Zitao rolls his eyes and grabs one of Sehun's bony arms, yanking the younger boy into his lap. Sehun's very manly, although piercing squeal, fails to distract from the nails scrabbling against his shoulder blades. He's still pouting when Zitao looks up at him, fingers pressed softly into the smooth skin of Sehun's thighs.
"C'mon Sehun," Zitao coos, lifting a hand to trail his fingers down the length of Sehun's spine. The younger's frown wavers, so Zitao does it again, this time stopping to circle his fingers around the base of Sehun's curling tail. A soft purr bubbles up Sehun's throat past his pink lips, and his eyes widen. He clamps a hand over his mouth, but the purring overflows through his nose and a look of utter betrayal clouds his features. Zitao laughs.
"Not fair," Sehun whines. "You're cheating."
"Am not," Zitao responds, even though it's pretty much common knowledge that his boyfriend is especially sensitive, and even more responsive. But, Zitao likes how Sehun virtually melts under his touch, so he continues his simple ministrations through the fabric of his tshirt.
Sehun is a mess after a few would-be-quiet minutes, his toes curled into the balls of his feet as he pants into the crook of Zitao's neck, purrs rattling his thin frame. He feels condensation on his nape from Sehun's laboured mouth breathing.
“Calm down,” He says softly, after the younger boy starts nuzzling his jaw. Sehun whines again, this time high pitched and broken, but doesn’t stop himself from sucking a bruising hickey into Zitao’s collarbone.
“Finish what you started,” Sehun orders, and Zitao thinks he'd rather have Sehun for breakfast anyway.
taokai - fighting evil by moonlight
One of the weirdest nights of Zitao's life begins with an angry, embarrassed Jongin stomping down the stairs in shiny red knee-high boots. With his thighs barely concealed by a frilly skirt and his hair pushed up away from his forehead to showcase a gaudy tiara with a ruby inlay, he's quite the sight. It takes all of Zitao's self-control to keep from roaring with laughter, but he manages to limit himself to only a soft chuckle when Jongin nearly topples on the final step as he teeters on his four inch heels. He tries to cross his arms in front of his chest, but the puffy bow and his new temporary breasts make it difficult.
"You're the biggest asshole in the world," Jongin spits. "How did I let you talk me into this, it's ridiculous. I look like a Power Puff Girl."
"Actually," Zitao corrects, "You look like a sailor scout."
He tugs at the hem of Jongin's skirt and the other boy doesn't hesitate to jab him in the stomach with his bony knuckles. The air is forced from his lungs momentarily, but it's worth it, seeing Jongin flush with embarrassment as he readjusts one of his bra straps.
"Lucky my mom isn't here," Zitao says, kneading the bruise blossoming under his shirt, "She'd want us to take pictures."
Jongin glares at him angrily and attempts to grab the striped pillowcase he'd dropped on the steps, but he runs into a bit of difficulty due to the white silk gloves he's wearing. It actually surprises Zitao how feminine Jongin looks, being completely used to seeing him in drop-crotch pants and oversized tshirts. He doesn't know if he likes it or not.
"Let's just get going already, I can't wait to freeze my balls off while you get some sort of sick satisfaction seeing me in this death trap," Jongin snaps, opening the front door and stumbling out onto the porch. Zitao hears a startled fuck, it's fucking cold while he grabs his jacket from the coat rack behind the door, and he turns around to see Jongin wide eyed and slightly windblown, looking more than a little bit pissed off.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, I'm gonna fucking kill you," Jongin chants, teeth chattering already. Feeling a little sympathy for his friend, he rubs Jongin's hands between his own for a few seconds. Jongin's full lips, shiny with gloss under the low light, tremble slightly and Zitao suddenly finds the need to force his heart back down his throat.
"We're only going up the street and then coming right back," Zitao assures him while simultaneously ushering him off the porch into the dimly lit street. "It won't be that bad."
"It won't be that bad he says, we're only going up the street he says," Jongin mutters under his breath, walking jerkily down the sidewalk with the pillowcase clenched in one of his fists, arms rigid at his sides. From what Zitao can tell, his friend seems to be getting a little more comfortable walking in the heels, no longer wobbling with every step. He'd even shaved his legs, Zitao observes quietly, trailing behind Jongin a few feet.
"Enjoying yourself?" Jongin bites out, teeth clenched. He doesn't look back, most likely in fear of losing his newly aquired balance.
"Maybe a little bit," Zitao admits, watching his breath fog and rise into the night sky. For the first time in a long time, he realizes, he can see the stars. They're quiet for a while; the only sound Jongin's heels clicking against cold concrete.
An eerie grin of a jack-o-lantern flickers next to the steps of the first house they approach, and Jongin hikes up the skirt around his hips to hobble up the stairs. Catching a glimpse of pink lace and the gentle curve of Jongin's ass, Zitao cocks his head in surprise. Jongin'd really gone all out, he thinks, watching him flatten the pleats in his skirt before knocking on the door.
"Trick or treat," Jongin says flatly as the door opens, but stiffens visibly as the boy at the door Zitao quickly identifies as Byun Baekhyun, nearly drops the bowl of candy in his hands.
"Cute," Baekhyun laughs, grabbing a fistfull of crinkling packets to drop into Jongin's pillowcase. Secondhand embarrassment creeps up on him before he really understands what's happening and Zitao finds himself blushing on behalf of Jongin, who is no doubt triply embarrassed.
"Thanks," Jongin chokes out, turning almost mechanically on his heels after Baekhyun's reply of any time, sweet cheeks. He trips back down the steps and stumbles a few feet before Zitao steadies him.
"Fuck this, I'm done," Jongin rips the wadded ankle socks from down the front of his shirt and whips them into the shrubs in front of Baekhyun's house as soon as the front door closes again.
"Jongin," Zitao calls after his friend, who's already started shuffling back towards Zitao's house. He wonders why the other boy bothered with the stuffed bra, but not the heels. "You're going to fall if you aren't careful."
Jongin's faster than he looks in his flashy red boots and by the time Zitao gets close enough, they've reached the edge of his property, the familiar glow from his front room casting shadows on the lawn. He catches one of Jongin's wrists in his hands and his fingers close around the smooth material of one of the white gloves.
"Hey," says Zitao softly, his firm grip stopping Jongin from walking any further, although he does try.
"Let go of me," Jongin says, but he sounds off, his shoulders hunched forward to shield himself from the cold.
"What's wrong?" He asks, dragging Jongin out of the sidewalk and into the shelter of some hedges lining the banister of his porch. He takes Jongin's chin between his fingers when the other boy refuses look him in the eye, angling his face so he can at least attempt to read his expression. There's nothing though, and Jongin's eyelashes flutter as he tries his best to avoid Zitao's gaze.
"You look beautiful, you know," He tries hesitantly, letting the pad of this thumb ghost Jongin's cheekbone. "Probably better than you should. Better than I should think you do."
The line of Jongin's furrowed eyebrows softens at that. His lips tremble again, but it's probably not with cold.
"Yeah?" asks Jongin hoarsely, lifting one of his gloved hands to press gently against Zitao's chest at the same time Zitao slides his free hand under the hem of Jongin's skirt. He's warm now, warmer than he thought possible outside in late October. Not sure if Jongin feels the same, he presses himself closer, allowing his body heat to diffuse through the other boy's thin seifuku.
"Yeah," Zitao asserts, realising just how close they are. He could count Jongin's eyelashes if he really wanted to, if he had the patience. But right now, with his thigh between Jongin's smooth ones and his hand dangerously close to Jongin's lacy pink underwear, he thinks that maybe, they should save that for another time.
girls!sekai - we all seem to have big plans
Sehun had always been a needy kisser. Joonmyun had asked her about it once, in passing, while his hand had been dangerously close to her very expensive bra. Jongin doesn't seem to mind though, content with doing almost nothing as Sehun sucks on her lips and tongue, cupping her friend's jaw and rubbing reassuring circles with her thumb into Sehun's cheek.
Jongin presses against Sehun gently and follows her down onto the throne of pillows they’d constructed around themselves. Sehun’s hair, wispy pink and purple, hangs in the air around them like a cotton candy halo, supercharged with static. Her recent dye job is already fading into a chalky pastel, something she'd been hoping for.
“Did you lock the door?” asks Sehun, eyes on Jongin's swollen lips. Jongin just nods quickly and attaches her mouth to Sehun's throat.
"Didn't want the dogs to get in the way like last time," Jongin says between sticky, open mouthed kisses. Sehun giggles and runs her hands through Jongin's dark hair, detangling any small knots she finds and lightly dragging her manicured nails along Jongin's scalp. The girl on top of her sighs softly, shivering into the touch.
Jongin is gentle, always too gentle, but Sehun can't bring herself to ask for more, not yet. This occurrence, the two of them, is far from new and Sehun likes to think it'd turned into their regular girls' night in.
¬
"How's Zitao?" Sehun asks two and a half hours later, still swathed in Jongin's sheets and absentmindedly picking at her sunny yellow nailpolish.
"He's good I guess," Jongin grabs one of Sehun's hands to stop her from raining yellow flakes into her hair. "I haven't seen him in a few days. I think he's studying for an exam or something."
"It's nice that you listen to him," Sehun says, wiggling her fingers in Jongin's grip.
"Like you listen to anything Joonmyun says unless it's got something to do with your philosophy homework," Jongin accuses.
"True," Sehun laughs, twining her legs with Jongin's under the blankets. "He's the sweetest though. He almost cried the other day because I convinced him to skip his history lecture."
“Charming,” says Jongin, crinkling her nose.
“There’s no need to be jealous Jonginnie,” Sehun coos, her voice warbling between octaves. “You’re most definitely the sweetest. No one tastes quite like you do.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up. Oh my god you’re insufferable, why do I even like you?” Covering her face with her hands, Jongin kicks out blindly, but somehow manages to heel herself in the thigh.
“Like me? I was under the impression that you loved me,” Sehun says haughtily, attempting to pry Jongin’s hands away from her face, without much success. Jongin wails into her palms, still squirming against Sehun’s uncharacteristically vice-like grip on her wrists.
“Admit it, you love me,” Sehun squeals, poking Jongin’s boobs through her thin tshirt. Dropping her elbows to protect herself, Jongin leaves her face open for Sehun to pinch her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“Of course I love you, idiot. Now stop being such a pain in the ass before I forcefully eject you from my bed.”
“I love you too, you know,” Sehun assures her, giggling again, heady with late night excitement.
“You’d better,” Jongin growls, pulling Sehun into a tight hug. She wraps her long legs around Sehun’s bony hips and squeezes, mimicking a baby koala.
Going to bed at 11:30 is pretty lame, Sehun thinks vaguely, opening and closing her hand so it doesn’t fall asleep under the weight of Jongin’s head on her forearm. Maybe they’d wake up at three in the morning and go skinny dipping like they’d originally planned, or maybe they’d stay in bed until the sun set the next day. Sehun is fine with whatever though, as long as they’re together.
alright so that's it wow how terrible. snaps for trying. happy birthday chelsea, i love you and i hope you have an amazing day.
setao - catboys home is when I'm alone with you
"You know if you keep wearing my shirts every day, they'll just be yours and the magic'll be gone," Zitao muses, making his grand entrance into the kitchen a little before noon. His sleek black tail waves lazily behind him, almost grazing the hardwood flooring, and he yawns wide enough to flash his pointed incisors.
"I'd say fuck you, but I think that's already been taken care of," Sehun responds, brushing some crumbs from the front of the graphic Ed Hardy tee clinging loosely to his thin frame. It's just long enough to cover the pale skin of his thighs. Letting his eyes wander, Zitao smiles and scratches the back of his head, choosing not to respond. He watches Sehun clear away the dishes from his own late breakfast and Zitao's stomach growls quietly.
Sehun's white-tipped ears swivel at the sound and he unceremoniously dumps his his dirty dishes into the sink before approaching the fridge. The bowl and accompanying spoon clatter against the sink's metallic insides and Zitao sees a shudder crawl down the length of Sehun's spine.
"Worked up a little bit of an appetite?" The other boy questions. Zitao shrugs, dismissing both the question and the resonating waves of sound still pulsing through their small kitchenette. His ears flick briefly as the sound fades, willing away the urge to wince.
"Maybe just a little bit," He concedes, sliding his socked feet across the smooth floor to join Sehun in front of the fridge. His tail twines gently with Sehun's as they stand side by side, the fridge bathing them both in cold artificial light.
"I can make you some eggs," Sehun offers, pushing a jug of milk to the side. His fingers pause on a carton of eggs, posing a simple question.
"So the usual eggshell surprise?" Zitao jibes, squeezing Sehun's shoulder gently, and he laughs, bending over to peer into the lower shelves. He hears Sehun huff and his tail flicks angrily away from Zitao's own. The other boy, quicker than he usually is in the morning, frees himself from Zitao's gentle grip and sidesteps away.
"If you don't like my cooking, maybe you should make your own breakfast," Sehun says drily and stalks out of the kitchen, tail waving angrily behind him.
Now you fucked up. Zitao yawns again and rolls his eyes. Deciding he could live without breakfast for a little while longer, he follows the other boy into the living room for some damage control. Sehun is always a bit touchy in the mornings, still cranky from being woken up by their neighbours water heater groaning to life at six, something Zitao has no problem sleeping through. He hears the soft whump of his boyfriend most likely face-planting into the couch and he finds Sehun seconds later, exactly as predicted, face down in the cushions.
"You know I was only kidding around, you big baby," Zitao says, climbing on top of Sehun to straddle his hips. Sehun grumbles something in response, but it's muffled by the cushion beneath him. He repeats whatever he was trying to say moments before, but it still comes out a garbled mess of sofa and vowels.
"What?" Zitao asks as Sehun's arms flail blindly behind his back, his tail wrapping itself around Zitao's neck. It's not quite strong enough to strangle him, and for that Zitao is grateful. He bucks violently, nearly knocking Zitao off his perch atop Sehun's butt and he has to steady himself with a hand in the younger's hair.
"You're crushing me you fucking oaf," Sehun wheezes, head now turned to the side so he can breathe. Zitao frowns and slides backwards off Sehun's hips, settling between his legs. He shakes his hand and a few blond strands of Sehun's hair float to the carpeted floor. Sehun sits up slowly and shoots Zitao a dirty look. He seems angry, but his eyes are bright and his cheek are flushed rosy pink.
"Meanie," Sehun says after a few seconds of trying to calm the new tangles in his blond hair, ears flat against his head. Zitao's tshirt, now ridden up under Sehun's armpits, exposes the pale skin of his torso. A fading hickey stands stark against the skin above his hip and Zitao unconsciously licks his lips.
"What're you staring at, moron?" Sehun snaps and tugs the shirt back down, eyeing him warily.
Eager to end their spat, Zitao rolls his eyes and grabs one of Sehun's bony arms, yanking the younger boy into his lap. Sehun's very manly, although piercing squeal, fails to distract from the nails scrabbling against his shoulder blades. He's still pouting when Zitao looks up at him, fingers pressed softly into the smooth skin of Sehun's thighs.
"C'mon Sehun," Zitao coos, lifting a hand to trail his fingers down the length of Sehun's spine. The younger's frown wavers, so Zitao does it again, this time stopping to circle his fingers around the base of Sehun's curling tail. A soft purr bubbles up Sehun's throat past his pink lips, and his eyes widen. He clamps a hand over his mouth, but the purring overflows through his nose and a look of utter betrayal clouds his features. Zitao laughs.
"Not fair," Sehun whines. "You're cheating."
"Am not," Zitao responds, even though it's pretty much common knowledge that his boyfriend is especially sensitive, and even more responsive. But, Zitao likes how Sehun virtually melts under his touch, so he continues his simple ministrations through the fabric of his tshirt.
Sehun is a mess after a few would-be-quiet minutes, his toes curled into the balls of his feet as he pants into the crook of Zitao's neck, purrs rattling his thin frame. He feels condensation on his nape from Sehun's laboured mouth breathing.
“Calm down,” He says softly, after the younger boy starts nuzzling his jaw. Sehun whines again, this time high pitched and broken, but doesn’t stop himself from sucking a bruising hickey into Zitao’s collarbone.
“Finish what you started,” Sehun orders, and Zitao thinks he'd rather have Sehun for breakfast anyway.
taokai - fighting evil by moonlight
One of the weirdest nights of Zitao's life begins with an angry, embarrassed Jongin stomping down the stairs in shiny red knee-high boots. With his thighs barely concealed by a frilly skirt and his hair pushed up away from his forehead to showcase a gaudy tiara with a ruby inlay, he's quite the sight. It takes all of Zitao's self-control to keep from roaring with laughter, but he manages to limit himself to only a soft chuckle when Jongin nearly topples on the final step as he teeters on his four inch heels. He tries to cross his arms in front of his chest, but the puffy bow and his new temporary breasts make it difficult.
"You're the biggest asshole in the world," Jongin spits. "How did I let you talk me into this, it's ridiculous. I look like a Power Puff Girl."
"Actually," Zitao corrects, "You look like a sailor scout."
He tugs at the hem of Jongin's skirt and the other boy doesn't hesitate to jab him in the stomach with his bony knuckles. The air is forced from his lungs momentarily, but it's worth it, seeing Jongin flush with embarrassment as he readjusts one of his bra straps.
"Lucky my mom isn't here," Zitao says, kneading the bruise blossoming under his shirt, "She'd want us to take pictures."
Jongin glares at him angrily and attempts to grab the striped pillowcase he'd dropped on the steps, but he runs into a bit of difficulty due to the white silk gloves he's wearing. It actually surprises Zitao how feminine Jongin looks, being completely used to seeing him in drop-crotch pants and oversized tshirts. He doesn't know if he likes it or not.
"Let's just get going already, I can't wait to freeze my balls off while you get some sort of sick satisfaction seeing me in this death trap," Jongin snaps, opening the front door and stumbling out onto the porch. Zitao hears a startled fuck, it's fucking cold while he grabs his jacket from the coat rack behind the door, and he turns around to see Jongin wide eyed and slightly windblown, looking more than a little bit pissed off.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, I'm gonna fucking kill you," Jongin chants, teeth chattering already. Feeling a little sympathy for his friend, he rubs Jongin's hands between his own for a few seconds. Jongin's full lips, shiny with gloss under the low light, tremble slightly and Zitao suddenly finds the need to force his heart back down his throat.
"We're only going up the street and then coming right back," Zitao assures him while simultaneously ushering him off the porch into the dimly lit street. "It won't be that bad."
"It won't be that bad he says, we're only going up the street he says," Jongin mutters under his breath, walking jerkily down the sidewalk with the pillowcase clenched in one of his fists, arms rigid at his sides. From what Zitao can tell, his friend seems to be getting a little more comfortable walking in the heels, no longer wobbling with every step. He'd even shaved his legs, Zitao observes quietly, trailing behind Jongin a few feet.
"Enjoying yourself?" Jongin bites out, teeth clenched. He doesn't look back, most likely in fear of losing his newly aquired balance.
"Maybe a little bit," Zitao admits, watching his breath fog and rise into the night sky. For the first time in a long time, he realizes, he can see the stars. They're quiet for a while; the only sound Jongin's heels clicking against cold concrete.
An eerie grin of a jack-o-lantern flickers next to the steps of the first house they approach, and Jongin hikes up the skirt around his hips to hobble up the stairs. Catching a glimpse of pink lace and the gentle curve of Jongin's ass, Zitao cocks his head in surprise. Jongin'd really gone all out, he thinks, watching him flatten the pleats in his skirt before knocking on the door.
"Trick or treat," Jongin says flatly as the door opens, but stiffens visibly as the boy at the door Zitao quickly identifies as Byun Baekhyun, nearly drops the bowl of candy in his hands.
"Cute," Baekhyun laughs, grabbing a fistfull of crinkling packets to drop into Jongin's pillowcase. Secondhand embarrassment creeps up on him before he really understands what's happening and Zitao finds himself blushing on behalf of Jongin, who is no doubt triply embarrassed.
"Thanks," Jongin chokes out, turning almost mechanically on his heels after Baekhyun's reply of any time, sweet cheeks. He trips back down the steps and stumbles a few feet before Zitao steadies him.
"Fuck this, I'm done," Jongin rips the wadded ankle socks from down the front of his shirt and whips them into the shrubs in front of Baekhyun's house as soon as the front door closes again.
"Jongin," Zitao calls after his friend, who's already started shuffling back towards Zitao's house. He wonders why the other boy bothered with the stuffed bra, but not the heels. "You're going to fall if you aren't careful."
Jongin's faster than he looks in his flashy red boots and by the time Zitao gets close enough, they've reached the edge of his property, the familiar glow from his front room casting shadows on the lawn. He catches one of Jongin's wrists in his hands and his fingers close around the smooth material of one of the white gloves.
"Hey," says Zitao softly, his firm grip stopping Jongin from walking any further, although he does try.
"Let go of me," Jongin says, but he sounds off, his shoulders hunched forward to shield himself from the cold.
"What's wrong?" He asks, dragging Jongin out of the sidewalk and into the shelter of some hedges lining the banister of his porch. He takes Jongin's chin between his fingers when the other boy refuses look him in the eye, angling his face so he can at least attempt to read his expression. There's nothing though, and Jongin's eyelashes flutter as he tries his best to avoid Zitao's gaze.
"You look beautiful, you know," He tries hesitantly, letting the pad of this thumb ghost Jongin's cheekbone. "Probably better than you should. Better than I should think you do."
The line of Jongin's furrowed eyebrows softens at that. His lips tremble again, but it's probably not with cold.
"Yeah?" asks Jongin hoarsely, lifting one of his gloved hands to press gently against Zitao's chest at the same time Zitao slides his free hand under the hem of Jongin's skirt. He's warm now, warmer than he thought possible outside in late October. Not sure if Jongin feels the same, he presses himself closer, allowing his body heat to diffuse through the other boy's thin seifuku.
"Yeah," Zitao asserts, realising just how close they are. He could count Jongin's eyelashes if he really wanted to, if he had the patience. But right now, with his thigh between Jongin's smooth ones and his hand dangerously close to Jongin's lacy pink underwear, he thinks that maybe, they should save that for another time.
girls!sekai - we all seem to have big plans
Sehun had always been a needy kisser. Joonmyun had asked her about it once, in passing, while his hand had been dangerously close to her very expensive bra. Jongin doesn't seem to mind though, content with doing almost nothing as Sehun sucks on her lips and tongue, cupping her friend's jaw and rubbing reassuring circles with her thumb into Sehun's cheek.
Jongin presses against Sehun gently and follows her down onto the throne of pillows they’d constructed around themselves. Sehun’s hair, wispy pink and purple, hangs in the air around them like a cotton candy halo, supercharged with static. Her recent dye job is already fading into a chalky pastel, something she'd been hoping for.
“Did you lock the door?” asks Sehun, eyes on Jongin's swollen lips. Jongin just nods quickly and attaches her mouth to Sehun's throat.
"Didn't want the dogs to get in the way like last time," Jongin says between sticky, open mouthed kisses. Sehun giggles and runs her hands through Jongin's dark hair, detangling any small knots she finds and lightly dragging her manicured nails along Jongin's scalp. The girl on top of her sighs softly, shivering into the touch.
Jongin is gentle, always too gentle, but Sehun can't bring herself to ask for more, not yet. This occurrence, the two of them, is far from new and Sehun likes to think it'd turned into their regular girls' night in.
¬
"How's Zitao?" Sehun asks two and a half hours later, still swathed in Jongin's sheets and absentmindedly picking at her sunny yellow nailpolish.
"He's good I guess," Jongin grabs one of Sehun's hands to stop her from raining yellow flakes into her hair. "I haven't seen him in a few days. I think he's studying for an exam or something."
"It's nice that you listen to him," Sehun says, wiggling her fingers in Jongin's grip.
"Like you listen to anything Joonmyun says unless it's got something to do with your philosophy homework," Jongin accuses.
"True," Sehun laughs, twining her legs with Jongin's under the blankets. "He's the sweetest though. He almost cried the other day because I convinced him to skip his history lecture."
“Charming,” says Jongin, crinkling her nose.
“There’s no need to be jealous Jonginnie,” Sehun coos, her voice warbling between octaves. “You’re most definitely the sweetest. No one tastes quite like you do.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up. Oh my god you’re insufferable, why do I even like you?” Covering her face with her hands, Jongin kicks out blindly, but somehow manages to heel herself in the thigh.
“Like me? I was under the impression that you loved me,” Sehun says haughtily, attempting to pry Jongin’s hands away from her face, without much success. Jongin wails into her palms, still squirming against Sehun’s uncharacteristically vice-like grip on her wrists.
“Admit it, you love me,” Sehun squeals, poking Jongin’s boobs through her thin tshirt. Dropping her elbows to protect herself, Jongin leaves her face open for Sehun to pinch her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“Of course I love you, idiot. Now stop being such a pain in the ass before I forcefully eject you from my bed.”
“I love you too, you know,” Sehun assures her, giggling again, heady with late night excitement.
“You’d better,” Jongin growls, pulling Sehun into a tight hug. She wraps her long legs around Sehun’s bony hips and squeezes, mimicking a baby koala.
Going to bed at 11:30 is pretty lame, Sehun thinks vaguely, opening and closing her hand so it doesn’t fall asleep under the weight of Jongin’s head on her forearm. Maybe they’d wake up at three in the morning and go skinny dipping like they’d originally planned, or maybe they’d stay in bed until the sun set the next day. Sehun is fine with whatever though, as long as they’re together.
alright so that's it wow how terrible. snaps for trying. happy birthday chelsea, i love you and i hope you have an amazing day.