k-pop; 30 day challenge #1-7
hello all so i stumbled across this 30 day otp challenge awhile ago and wanted to write for it with different ships for each one!! so far i've only managed to get through the first 8 days, and i've only repeated a ship once XD but anyway i've been sitting on these drabbles for awhile so i figured i'd post the ones i have and then keep writing and post in batches so here we are \o/
if you read any of these, i hope you enjoy!! :D :D
1. holding hands / chankai / pg / 572 wc
Jongin is lost. Well, maybe not really lost, because he knows exactly where he is. He’d just stepped aside to ask the lady with the cute beagle puppy if he could pet it, and then, when he’d turned back around to pull Chanyeol with him, Chanyeol was nowhere to be seen. So now Jongin is a little lost because he has no idea where Chanyeol could have gone in the two seconds Jongin had slipped away and he feels a little anxious in the bustling crowd of the amusement park.
At least the puppy was cute, Jongin thinks as he fishes his phone from his pocket and calls Chanyeol, hoping he’ll be able to hear it through the incessant laughter and chatter, the screams from the people on rollercoasters and the endless sound of machinery as the rides continue on around him. “Come on,” he mutters, walking in the direction they’d been going, toward that one pirate themed ride Chanyeol wanted to do next, “Where are you?”
His call goes to voicemail and Jongin curses under his breath as he tries again, peering above people’s heads and looking for anyone that could be Chanyeol. “What’s the point of you being so tall if it doesn’t help me find you??” he grumbles, frustrated, and pulls his phone from his ear to glare at the screen when Chanyeol fails to pick up again.
Jongin runs a hand through his hair and circles around in his spot, looking carefully for Chanyeol in the distance. People around him give him annoyed looks as they pass but Jongin ignores it all, focused on the anxious bubbling his chest and hoping Chanyeol didn’t get himself in some kind of trouble and that’s why he can’t find him anywhere, why he’s not answering his phone. Someone knocks into him roughly as they run past and Jongin almost drops his phone to the ground, quickly tightening his grip and thinking he should probably at least move out of the way. He can just wait by a bench or something and pray that Chanyeol looks at his phone soon and notices his missed calls.
Before he even has the chance to step away though, there’s a hand grabbing his free one, familiar fingers lacing through Jongin’s and relief hits Jongin so suddenly he almost trips over himself in his haste to turn around. “Where did you go?” he exclaims, intending to reprimand Chanyeol for disappearing but instead his voice sounds a little soppy as he shuffles closer, pressing his forehead into Chanyeol’s chest and finally letting himself breathe.
“That’s what I should be asking you,” Chanyeol says, and he, too, sounds extremely relieved. He squeezes Jongin’s hand tightly, and at any other time Jongin might complain because it kind of hurts, but right now he just relishes it, the confirmation that Chanyeol is there.
“I’m sorry,” Jongin whispers, leaning back to look up at Chanyeol, who smiles down at him and gives a slight shake of his head.
“Me, too,” he says, and Jongin feels his face heat up when Chanyeol presses a soft kiss to his temple. There are more people giving them looks now, but Jongin doesn’t care. “Let’s not lose each other like that again, okay?”
“Don’t let go of my hand then,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol rubs his thumbs over his knuckles as he laughs.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, and Jongin grins back.
2. cuddling / xingdae / pg / 1140 wc
The dorm is empty when Yixing gets back. It’s not uncommon these days, when most of the group has acting schedules and the rest are rehearsing for the repackage, but it still feels a little lonely returning from Beijing or Shenzhen or wherever he’s been to an empty, quiet dorm. When he’s exceptionally tired, it can be nice though, not having to put on a smile or fight away the exhaustion to entertain all of the other member’s questions or fend of Sehun demanding if he brought him back a souvenir like Yixing was gone on vacation instead for work.
Today it’s a mix of both, the loneliness and the exhaustion, and it’s the exhaustion that wins. The constant flying has really messed up his sleep schedules and his neck still feels kind of sore on occasion from the Go Fighting filming. He’ll probably have to head to the company later to catch up on choreo practice and everything else he’s missed while he’s been away, but he thinks maybe an hour’s worth of sleep will do him good. Just enough to rest and hopefully rejuvenate. It’s better than nothing.
He collapses in his bed the second he walks into his and Jongdae’s room, not even bothering to turn on the light. Jongdae keeps everything tidy so there’s nothing in the way to trip over like if he’d attempted to navigate Junmyeon’s room in the dark, and his bed feels so soft and comfortable as he curls up on his side. He has enough sensibility to set an alarm on his phone before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him over.
When Yixing wakes with a start sometime later, he can’t find his phone next to him. Instead, there’s a body, and familiar voice grumbling at him when Yixing pokes around in the dark.
“Stop that, Yixing-ge,” Jongdae says, and Yixing pulls his hands back, blinking down at the bed and just barely making out Jongdae’s form next to him.
“What time is it?” Yixing asks, his mouth feeling like cotton. “My alarm--”
“I turned it off,” Jongdae says and he’s shuffling closer to Yixing now, hands sliding up around Yixing’s waist. “Minseok-hyung said he’d come get us in a few minutes, so for now just lie here with me, okay?”
Yixing still feels a little disoriented because he definitely wasn’t expecting to wake up to Jongdae, warm and soft and pulling him close, but he can’t say that he doesn’t like it. Jongdae’s full of natural affection and Yixing misses that a lot now that he spends so much more time in China instead, and he lets himself relax in Jongdae’s hold, smiling as he clings back. “I can do that,” he says, and he feels Jongdae’s lips stretch into a grin against his collarbones.
“Good,” he says and Yixing wishes the lights were on so he could properly see his face. Instead he just cuddles in a little closer, sliding a leg between Jongdae’s thighs and feeling so perfectly at home, content. His earlier tiredness is mostly gone now, just lingering bouts of weariness that comes with the job no matter what, and Jongdae is definitely making it all better right now, fingers dancing up Yixing’s sides until Yixing squirms away, ticklish.
“Stop that,” Yixing says and Jongdae’s laughter is just as bright as always, and Yixing’s missed that, so much, too. It’s not nearly the same over the phone, or the silly laughing emoticons that Jongdae will spam him with after a joke. Yixing’s proud of all the opportunities he’s been getting recently, but it’s so different, being on his own so much. He hasn’t quite gotten used to it.
“How was filming, hyung?” Jongdae asks and Yixing hums thoughtfully, thinking it over. “Next time you should take me with you.”
Yixing laughs, pokes at Jongdae’s stomach through his shirt. “Okay,” he says, “better work on your Mandarin, then. I won’t let you speak any Korean while we’re there.”
Jongdae mock-gasps even as he cuddles closer. “Being a CEO has changed you,” he says and Yixing groans, hiding his face in Jongdae’s neck in embarrassment. He gets enough of that from the fans, from interviewers who clearly like watching him squirm.
“Don’t call me that,” Yixing says weakly and Jongdae cackles at him, clearly amused, and Yixing doesn’t need the lights on to know Jongdae’s probably got that sneaky little grin of his on his face, ready to attack. So he beats him at it by giving Jongdae’s stomach a hard pinch, and laughs at Jongdae’s startled yelp.
“Hyung,” Jongdae whines cutely, and Yixing apologizes by gently rubbing his fingers over the skin, slipping his hand under Jongdae’s shirt to get there properly and Jongdae is probably pouting and Yixing wonders, not for the first time, about kissing him.
He doesn’t though, just pets Jongdae’s head, heart pounding in his chest as he pushes aside those dangerous thoughts. Being this close doesn’t really help, but Yixing just enjoys it for what it is, Jongdae’s comfort, maybe even his way of showing Yixing that he missed him, too.
Of course, reality comes knocking on the door in form of Minseok, who switches on the light and gives Jongdae and Yixing a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “We’ve got shit to do and you’re just lying here cuddling?” he says, raising a brow, and Yixing grins at him once his eyes have managed to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room.
“Do you want cuddles, too, hyung?” he teases. “You could always join us.”
Except Jongdae’s arms tighten around Yixing’s waist at that and he curls in even closer. Yixing can’t quite see his face from this angle, but the way Jongdae’s holding him almost feels a little possessive, and there’s a burst of hope in his chest that he pushes aside just as quickly as it comes because now probably isn’t the time to think about what any of this might mean. He wonders how to maybe take back his words, but then Minseok is just laughing and shaking his head.
“No, thanks,” he says. “Looks like Jongdae’s got it covered.” He smirks at Yixing in a sort of terrible, knowing way, and Yixing just stares back with his usual blank face. “Nice to have you back, Yixing,” he adds before letting them know their manager is here and to get out of bed.
When he’s gone, Yixing turns back to Jongdae, who is grinning up at him. “It is nice to be back,” Yixing says, meeting Jongdae’s eyes.
“Clearly, because I’m here,” Jongdae says, and Yixing attacks him with his fingers, giving his butt a sound smack as Jongdae darts out of the bed, laughing. Maybe someday, Yixing thinks as he gives chase, he can tell Jongdae that he might just be right.
3. gaming/watching a movie / sebaek / pg-13 / 474 wc
“How the fuck are you winning when you’re barely paying attention?” Sehun grumbles, trying to catch up where he’s fallen behind on his second lap.
Next to him, Baekhyun cackles loudly and throws a banana peel into the lane, tripping up Donkey Kong and Rosalina, and his elbow jabs into Sehun’s ribs. He’s half-playing, half-watching some YouTube video on his laptop set aside on the coffee table and he’s fucking winning, and Sehun can’t let that happen.
He swerves on the screen, picks up a mushroom to gain some speed and manages to close off the distance quite well, and carefully inches a little closer to Baekhyun. Baekhyun doesn’t seem to notice, his attention already so preoccupied on other things, so Sehun drags his foot up along Baekhyun’s calf and then casually throws it over his knee, digs his toes into the flesh of his other thigh.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun says slowly, curiously, but Sehun keeps his eyes on the television, biting his lower lip as he flies past a few more characters, quickly coming up behind Baekhyun’s Wario and Luigi, who are in the lead.
“Winning,” Sehun says, tossing out a Koopa shell that successfully knocks out Luigi and puts his Princess Peach neck-and-neck with Wario. He shifts even closer now, leaning into Baekhyun’s space, and just catches Baekhyun’s narrowed eyes before he smirks, wide.
“We’ll see about that,” Baekhyun says, and now his attention is undivided, solely on the screen as they make their last lap. He doesn’t pull any punches, either, kicking aside Sehun’s legs and throwing his own over his lap, falling aside on the couch to give himself more room to press the heel of his foot into Sehun’s crotch.
“Fuck,” Sehun hisses, trying to elbow him back, and he’s starting to wonder how he even thought he could distract Baekhyun like this. Baekhyun, who probably has a masters degree in the art of touching with the way he’s somehow managed to climb halfway onto Sehun’s lap and dodge another banana peel at the same time.
“Come on, Sehunnie,” he teases, whispering into Sehun’s ear as he pushes his ass back on his lap. “I thought you said you’re gonna win.”
And like that Baekhyun zips past the finish line, Sehun trailing after just seconds later, and the screen flashes their corresponding places as Sehun groans, tossing his controller to the floor and slumping against the couch. “You’re the worst,” Sehun says, without any real heat, and Baekhyun just grins at him and pats his cheek.
“Don’t worry,” he says, dropping his hand to the zipper on Sehun’s jeans. “I’ll make it up to you.” He smirks at Sehun as he slides down to his knees and Sehun decides that coming in second place every once in awhile is really not so bad.
4. on a date / kaixing / r / 1168 wc
It’s their fourth date. Jongin really shouldn’t be so nervous, but it’s the first time he’s actually going over to Yixing’s place so he can’t help the way anxiety has settled like lead in his chest. He rubs his palms over his thighs and takes a deep breath before knocking on the door.
The second Yixing answers, one of his beautiful dimpled smiles on his face, Jongin feels all that unease wash away. “Hey, you’re right on time,” Yixing says, stepping aside to let Jongin through the door, and then greets him with a soft kiss on the lips. Jongin grins at him, pulls him in for another, and steps out of his shoes before letting Yixing grab his hand and drag him inside.
“You didn’t have trouble getting here, did you?” Yixing asks, glancing over his shoulder at Jongin who quickly shakes his head.
“No, it was fine,” he says, giving Yixing’s hand a slight squeeze before releasing it when they end up in the kitchen. There are dishes and food all over the place, but it smells amazing, whatever Yixing’s been making, and Jongin’s stomach growls appreciatively. Yixing laughs, amused, and Jongin gives his stomach a pat to shut it up. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I haven’t really had anything to eat since this morning.”
That has Yixing frowning at him, concern in his eyes. He’s always texting Jongin to take better care of himself, to get enough sleep and not to miss meals, but sometimes Jongin forgets regardless. “Didn’t you have a game this afternoon? You shouldn’t play when you haven’t eaten,” he says and Jongin shrugs a little.
“I had a granola bar or two,” Jongin says with a shrug and Yixing sighs, shaking his head.
“Well, this should all be done soon, so you can eat,” Yixing says. “Come help me, okay?”
“I’m not very good at cooking,” Jongin admits, rubbing the back of his neck, but Yixing just smiles at him.
“I’ll give you the easy jobs to do,” he says, setting Jongin up with a cutting board and knife. He places a few washed tomatoes at the side. “Just cut these up into little cubes.” He pats Jongin’s back gently when Jongin nods, and watches him make a few slices before stepping aside. “I heard you guys won today.”
“Did Minseok tell you already?” Jongin says, pouting. “I was planning to surprise you with the news.”
“Why, were you trying to impress me?” Yixing teases. “I already like you, you know.”
Jongin laughs and aims a half-hearted kick at him, cheeks a little warm, because, yes, maybe he was trying to impress. Jongin had a personal best game that afternoon and he wanted to tell Yixing all about it. “It was a good game,” he says. “You have to come to the next one, okay?”
“I’ll do my best to cheer you on,” Yixing agrees, giving Jongin’s butt a pat as he passes by to grab the salt and pepper shaker from the other side of the counter. “Tell me all the details,” he says. “Minseok only told me about the win.”
Jongin pushes aside the first completed tomato and picks up the next, slicing off the top and bottom before he tells Yixing about the game. It’s not a real game or anything, just a simple football league that Jongin joined with a few friends about two years ago. They play on the weekends when they can and keep score and Jongin’s, or, well, Minseo’s team, is in the lead this time around. They haven’t had a consistent win in awhile so Jongin is pretty happy.
That was how he’d met Yixing, too, about five months ago. He was a friend of Minseok’s, filling in for Minho on their team since he couldn’t make it to that game. Yixing, who was kind and competitive and really, really hot in his makeshift uniform, shirt sleeves rolled up to show off defined arms, was hard to ignore. It didn’t help that he was friendly with everyone, fitting in like he’d been a part of the team for years, and he even seemed to be friends with the captain of the opposing team, Lu Han, who would playfully shove him during the match and shriek whenever Yixing smacked his butt in response.
It wasn’t until the following week that really anything happened. Yixing came by again just to watch the match and Jongin ended up in a tumble that strained his ankle too much to play the second half. He’d ended up on the side of the field next to Yixing, who grabbed his foot and laid it out over his lap, and said, “I hear you should keep it elevated or something,” and smiled Jongin with that dimpled smile. Just like that, the anger Jongin felt about having to step out of the game all but vanished, and he spent the rest of the afternoon cheering on his team, chatting with Yixing and drinking up every one of his cute smiles and even cuter laughs.
It’s almost no surprise they ended up here, cooking dinner together as they talk about their day, Yixing trying to keep a straight face at Jongin’s mix-matched pile of cut tomatoes, and trading kisses in between. Yixing asked Jongin out a couple of weeks ago for the first time, after months of exchanging texts and meeting up for meals whenever they could. They’d gone to a movie and made out furiously in the doorway to Jongin’s apartment before his roommate, Kyungsoo, found them, and Yixing had left with a promise of later bright in his eyes.
Later ended up being their second date only a few days later, when Yixing fucked Jongin slowly over the armrest of his couch and made him come twice before he finished, and let Jongin drag him to Koreatown for barbecue and a few hours of karaoke.
“What’re you thinking about?” Yixing says suddenly, wrapping toned arms around Jongin’s waist from behind and resting his chin atop his right shoulder.
It pulls Jongin out of his thoughts with a start and he laughs a little, shaking his head and clearing his mind. “Just how I blew you in the karaoke booth on our second date,” he says, willing himself not to blush at the mention of it. In the end, it’s the intense look Yixing gives him over his shoulder and the warm press of his hands at Jongin’s stomach, reaching under his shirt, that has heat filling his face instead.
“You can do that again later, if you so want,” he says, then kisses behind Jongin’s ear with a laugh when Jongin lets out an embarrassed squeak. “For now, let’s finish dinner, okay?”
Jongin turns in his arms to kiss him properly on the lips, just because, and maybe also a promise for later, and nods. “Okay,” he says, looking forward to how the night will go, and all the dates waiting for them in the future.
5. kissing / sekai / pg-13 / 3285 wc
The first kiss is at three A.M., tasting like fruity drinks and cigarette smoke. Jongin presses deeper, closing, drinking it in, the warmth of Sehun’s mouth, the slick, heavy weight of his tongue. He’s dizzy with it, aching, and maybe it’s from all the alcohol, from the pounding bass in his ears as Sehun shoves him into a wall at the small bar and kisses back. They’d always been told they looked older than their age, and it’s not the first time they’ve flashed fake IDs to get into a good show. Dancing together, sliding hands over each other bodies, swaying hips to the beat, that was all familiar.
This, this is new. This is good. In the haze, Jongin is addicted. Thinks he could kiss Sehun like this forever.
In the harsh morning sunlight, hours later, throbbing behind his eyes, Sehun looks at him from the floor and says, “What the fuck did we do last night?” and Jongin swallows down the lingering taste of him on his tongue.
Jongin pushes it away. Forgives, forgets. They’re just seventeen, anyway, and Sehun is his best friend. That’s more important than a drunken make out session in the back of a stupid club.
Two years later, it happens again. Only Jongin isn’t drunk, but Sehun is, banging on the door to Jongin’s dorm room and giggling when he nearly falls to the floor once Jongin’s opened it. “Jesus, you reek,” Jongin says, wrinkling his nose and dragging Sehun to his bed, shoves him down. He’s glad Taemin isn’t around, and even more glad when Sehun grabs his wrist and yanks, groaning when Jongin sprawls over him.
“Let me go, Sehun--I’ll--I’ll get you some water,” Jongin says, struggling to move, because they’re too close. Too close, and Sehun’s only gotten more handsome in the past two years. His lips are so soft, pink.
It wasn’t so easy to forget, in the end.
Sehun traps Jongin to the bed, spread halfway over him, and Jongin always forgets how much of a clingy drunk he is until he’s stuck like this, heart pounding. Then Sehun is kissing him, the first touch of his lips after all this time like a jolt of lightning through Jongin’s body. It’s hesitant, then more forceful, groaning when Jongin doesn’t respond, tongue insistently licking at the part between his lips before kissing harder.
Jongin clenches his eyes shut tight, counts to ten, and then pushes Sehun away so hard he falls off the bed. He doesn’t stick around to hear what he has to say, darts straight out of the room and hides in the bathroom down the hall and when he returns twenty minutes later, Sehun is asleep on the floor and Jongin’s lips are still tingling.
Chanyeol’s kisses aren’t like Sehun’s at all. That’s what Jongin’s thinking when Sehun walks into the apartment and catches the two of them on the couch. Jongin feels tense, awkward, even as Chanyeol grins easily at Sehun, who’s standing blank-faced by the door, and greets himself like there’s nothing wrong. There’s so much wrong, and Jongin’s heart sinks a bit at the way Chanyeol smiles fondly at Jongin and kisses his forehead before he leaves. Chanyeol’s kisses are soft, gentle, and Jongin wishes they were enough.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sehun says, tossing his backpack to the floor and flopping onto the couch.
“Ah, yeah...it’s still pretty new,” Jongin says with a shrug. This had only been their third date. Jongin didn’t want to say anything until he was sure he was interested in Chanyeol enough that looking at Sehun wouldn’t ache as much. It’s obvious that he’s failed. He shouldn’t be thinking of the way Sehun’s lips feel against his when it’s Chanyeol kissing him.
“You still could’ve told me,” Sehun says, and he sounds kind of angry. “I should know when my best friend is making out with someone on our couch.”
Why do you care, Jongin thinks. You only want to kiss me when you don’t have to remember in the morning.
He doesn’t say that out loud. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just picks himself up from the couch and retreats to his room, falling face-first into bed and wishing it was easier to move on.
A week later, Sehun tries to cheer Jongin up after he breaks up with Chanyeol by marathoning DBZ and ordering copious amounts of pizza and barbecue wings. There’s, of course, copious amounts of alcohol, too, and Jongin keeps count, making sure not to get too carried away, while Sehun pours himself drink after drink as they devour food and scream at the television.
Jongin isn’t as devastated over the break up as Sehun thinks he is. Chanyeol’s a nice guy, and even though he was clearly hurt, he took it well. Jongin hadn’t elaborated the details when he relayed the information to his best friend, but clearly Sehun wants to make him feel better and Jongin is happy with the attention, so he lets it be.
Sehun’s got his head on Jongin’s shoulder a few hours later, a hand innocently on his thigh, and it’s a sort of closeness they’ve always had, but lately Jongin can’t stand it. He tries to pull away, the way he has all night, not touching Sehun unless necessary, gently shrugging him off if he got too close, and he freezes in his spot when Sehun grumbles, “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” Jongin whispers, anxiety bubbling in his belly.
“You keep moving away,” Sehun says, and he lifts his head to look at Jongin, eyes surprisingly serious for how drunk Jongin knows he is. “You keep pulling away from me.”
Jongin laughs, trying to make light of the situation and gives Sehun’s head a light pat. “No, I’m not,” he lies. “You’re just drunk. You should go to sleep.”
Thinking he’s off the hook, Jongin makes to stand, but then Sehun is climbing straight into his lap, pushing at Jongin’s shoulders until his back hits the floor. “Sehun, what--” he starts, but his words are cut off by Sehun’s mouth, and fuck. Fuck. Not again.
Jongin can’t deal with this anymore. All these years, all this time. Pushing aside his feelings, trying to understand, wondering why it couldn’t be him Sehun wanted to date, instead of just the convenient friend that’s around for a drunken hookup. Anger, frustration, the aching in his chest, it all builds and builds and he pushes Sehun away, harder than the last time, even, and Sehun goes scrambling backwards, knocking over empty cans of beer and the open bottle of vodka, spilling it all over the carpet.
“What the hell, Jongin?” Sehun exclaims, but Jongin just glares at him, shaking.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps back and Sehun clamps his mouth shut tight, eyes widening. Jongin doesn’t get angry very often, and least of all with Sehun, but he can’t do this anymore. He can’t. “You can’t just kiss me like this again. You can’t just go around doing these things and pretending it never happened because it suits you.” There’s so much he wants to say, the truth of his feelings on the tip of his tongue, but he’s so tired. All he wants is to get away. “Just--go find someone else to fuck around with,” he says finally.
Sehun doesn’t say anything, stunned, maybe, to silence. That’s fine with Jongin. He doesn’t want to hear excuses. He pulls himself to his feet and drags himself to his room, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it as he rubs at his eyes and tries not to think about just how good Sehun’s mouth felt on him yet again.
Jongin has every intention of ignoring Sehun for the next few days. Weeks, months, even. He could do it. He’s stubborn when he wants something, and right now the last thing he wants is to see his friend. He’s pretty sure Kyungsoo would let him crash at his place for awhile if necessary, and if all else fails, Jongin could commute from his sister’s place for a week until she inevitably kicks him back out.
He doesn’t, however, expect to find Sehun standing right in front of his door when he opens it that very next morning, looking exceptionally distraught.
“Can we talk?” Sehun asks, his voice small, and Jongin wonders if it would be childish of him to slam the door back in his face.
“I don’t have anything to say,” Jongin replies coolly, shoving bodily past Sehun toward the kitchen. He was planning to make something to eat, but now he’s not so sure he’s hungry anymore. Still, he starts pulling things out of the fridge to give him something to do and just about drops a frying pan on his foot when Sehun blurts out, “I’m sorry!”
Jongin takes a deep breath before he slowly turns around, tightening his grip on the handle of the pan like he might actually use it if Sehun does something stupid like kiss him again. “What?” he says.
Sehun shoves his hands into the pockets of his loose sweats, rocking back and forth a bit on his feet. “You were right, last night. I’m sorry for getting angry when you pushed me away. I’m sorry--I’m sorry for kissing you, not just last night, but...the other times, too.”
“You remember?” Jongin hisses and now he’s seriously considering throwing the pan at Sehun’s head.
“Vaguely,” Sehun says, looking guilty. “Never right away, either. Like I’d suddenly remember a few days later and then feel sick all over again, like I can’t believe I didn’t know I’d done it and, well, that’s not really an excuse, right?” He laughs awkwardly but breaks off quickly enough when Jongin just stares at him. “Look, Jongin, I’m really sorry. I was drunk, I was being stupid, and I shouldn’t have done any of it, and definitely shouldn’t have pretended like I didn’t remember, and--”
“God, Sehun, you don’t get it!” Jongin interrupts, feeling a little sick to his stomach. When Sehun stops ranting to look at him, Jongin licks his lips and says, “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were seventeen, and every time you kiss me and pretend it didn’t happen, it’s--fuck.” Jongin runs a hand through his hair, tries to sort out his thoughts, and when he looks at Sehun again, his eyes are wide in surprise. Clearly he wasn’t expecting a sudden confession, and truthfully, Jongin wasn’t expecting to give one, but he doesn’t know how else he can explain, how else he can fix this. Maybe if Sehun knows, he’ll be more careful in the future. Won’t put Jongin in that position. And maybe, finally, Jongin can move on.
“Maybe I should’ve told you years ago so you could stop doing it,” Jongin continues, “and that’s my fault, but if you’re hoping that I’ll just give in for a quick fuck whenever you’re drunk or something then...then you need to find someone else. I won’t be so nice about it the next time.”
The silence between them stretches on for awhile, but Jongin’s said his piece and there’s not much else he can do to make Sehun understand. Now, he thinks, he will just have to patch up his broken heart on his own, the way he’s been doing for years. Only this time, it hurts the most.
“You like me?” Sehun says suddenly and Jongin wants to laugh because he’s so oblivious. “As in, you want to date me?”
“Yes, Sehun,” Jongin says with a sigh. “I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen. Ever since we kissed that first time, and I thought…” He swallows, his throat suddenly thick and sadness prickling behind his eyes. “I thought you did, too.” He laughs hollowly and adds, when Sehun seems at a loss for words, “Clearly I was wrong. And, well, now you know the truth. So can you just, I don’t know, leave me alone for awhile?”
He turns away without waiting for an answer, tries to calm the rapid beating of his heart with slow, steady breaths. He’s still gripping onto the frying pan like it’s a lifeline and can’t find it in himself to do much of anything but stand there, staring at the kitchen counter, waiting for Sehun to either say something or walk away. Walk out of his life, maybe, because Jongin just told him he’s in love with him.
What he doesn’t expect is for Sehun to stay. For Sehun pull lightly at Jongin’s elbow, trying to get him to turn and look at him again, but Jongin doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to hear the inevitable rejection or see the pity in Sehun’s eyes. “Jongin, please,” Sehun says and he sounds a little upset that he’s being ignored but can Sehun really blame him?
“Just leave me alone, Sehun,” Jongin mutters, shaking his hand off his arm, but then Sehun’s pulling on his wrist, tugging at him until Jongin really doesn’t have a choice but to turn lest he fall straight over his feet. He’s surprised, then, to find there isn’t any pity on Sehun’s face, no lingering remorse for all his mixed signals, nothing that indicates he’s thinking of leaving Jongin there to deal with this on his own. Instead, there’s something dreadfully like hope in his eyes, in the way he’s searching Jongin’s face like he’s looking for the last piece of the puzzle, trying to fit them all together before he gives his answer. His fingers tighten around Jongin’s wrist and when Jongin licks his lips this time, he catches the way Sehun’s gaze darts down to his mouth.
“You weren’t wrong,” Sehun says and Jongin’s breath lodges itself in his throat. “You thought I liked you. I do like you, Jongin. Maybe--Maybe not for as long as you have, but even when I’m sober I want to kiss you and I don’t know, okay? I’m just--It’s easier when I’m drunk and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“Didn’t mean to what?” Jongin whispers harshly, not sure he can even believe what he’s hearing. After all this time...He doesn’t know if he’s happy or angry or some strange mix of both. “Didn’t mean to mess with my feelings? Didn’t think I’d mind just making out with you and forgetting about it?”
“I didn’t think you’d like me back!” Sehun shouts, and then quickly slams his mouth shut, looking a little embarrassed for raising his voice. His cheeks are flushed red and he’s gripping Jongin’s wrist so tight now Jongin’s sure there will be bruises later. “I was afraid of ruining things, I just wanted--I wanted to see what it was like. Thought it might be the only way.” He looks down at his feet then and Jongin just stares at him, stunned, because Sehun sounds completely sincere and Jongin...Jongin gets it, a little. All this time he’d been hoping Sehun liked him, too, but Jongin was just as afraid of ruining their friendship to confront him about the kisses. Just let them fade away like Sehun did.
“You’re serious?” Jongin asks, shaking Sehun’s hand a little so that he looks back up.
Sehun nods, biting his lower lip. “Last night--fuck, Jongin, I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have done it, not when I was trying to make you feel better about Chanyeol, it’s just that, I was really happy that you guys had split up, you know? Because I thought maybe I stood a chance?” He laughs, scratches the side of his neck. “Obviously I didn’t go about it in the right way.”
“Obviously,” Jongin repeats, incredulous. Sehun...Sehun likes him, too? This can’t be happening.
“So, really, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked up, more than once, but I like you, too, Jongin, a fucking lot, okay? And I’d like to kiss you now, so maybe if you put that frying pan down we could…”
Jongin blinks, looks down at his hand, and readjusts his grip on the handle of the pan. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, glancing back up at Sehun and smiling despite himself, “I’m still considering smacking you in the head with it.”
“Hey,” Sehun protests, pouting, and god, Jongin wants to kiss him, too.
“You’re such an idiot,” he says instead, pulling his hand from Sehun’s so he can shove him instead. “I can’t fucking believe you, you’re such a fucking idiot.” He shoves him again, harder this time with both his hands, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, and Sehun grabs his wrists, gently pulls the pan out of Jongin’s hand and sets it onto the counter behind him.
He takes Jongin’s hands in his again and says, “Can I kiss you, Jongin?” and Jongin doesn’t even bother answering, just surges forward and kisses him.
It’s a lot like their very first kiss, eager and rushed and a little desperate, but it’s so much better. Infinitely better. The way Sehun’s hands slide up from his wrists to cup Jongin’s face, the way he tilts his head and lets his tongue push into Jongin’s mouth, how he drinks up Jongin’s moan and kisses him harder, maybe the way he’s really wanted to the other times before Jongin had shoved him away. Jongin will take this over any of those other kisses, because this time he knows how Sehun really feels, and this time he knows they will both remember. Not just in the morning, but five, ten minutes from now, even. Next week, too. Sehun will remember and Jongin won’t have to ache with want every time he looks at him, instead he can just kiss him when he wants to and know that Sehun will kiss him back.
Jongin grips Sehun’s hips, the two of the fumbling a little until Sehun’s back hits the fridge, and there’s the sound of something hitting the floor, a magnet, maybe, but Jongin just bites into Sehun’s lower lip and groans, presses up against him. “Sehun,” Jongin pants into his mouth, “this is--”
“Shut up,” Sehun grumbles, one of his hands now tangled in Jongin’s hair. He pulls him back, just enough for Jongin to see the intensity in his eyes, his spit-slick lips, and then they’re crushing their mouths together again, kissing like they’re starved for it. Jongin definitely thinks he has been.
He doesn’t know how long they continue like that, but when they do finally part, Jongin’s jaw feels a little strained and there’s the beginning of arousal stirring low in his belly that he tries to push away. Sehun looks much the same as he feels, winded from the pleasure, and Jongin wouldn’t mind going further, really, not when he’s waited so long but then Sehun’s stomach growls so loudly it seems to echo off the walls in their tiny kitchen.
Jongin bursts out laughing as Sehun’s already flushed cheeks turn a shade darker. He shoves Jongin away, grumbling, and Jongin wheezes as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Don’t make me hit you with the goddamn frying pan,” Sehun says, picking it up again and Jongin covers his mouth with a hand to hide his lingering giggles. Thankfully Sehun just looks a little amused instead of angry, eyes soft and fond now as he stares at Jongin, and Jongin walks back over to him and says, “So, breakfast?”
“Only if you make it,” Sehun returns and kisses away Jongin’s protests.
6. wearing each other’s clothes / baekxing / pg / 349 wc
They’ve been dating for three months before Yixing notices that Baekhyun is a clothes-stealer. Not in the actual sense that he’s trying to rob Yixing of his wardrobe, but that whenever Yixing leaves behind a sweater or hat at Baekhyun’s apartment, the next time he sees him, Baekhyun will be wearing it. He never mentions it either, just acts as if it was all apart of his closet in the first place, and maybe that’s why it took so long for Yixing to even realize.
But there he is today, lounging across Yixing’s couch wearing a pair of Yixing’s jeans and one of Yixing’s old college hoodies. “Do you not own your own clothes?” Yixing blurts out and Baekhyun looks down from the manga he’s reading to assess his outfit, then grins up at Yixing.
“Your clothes are more comfy,” he says with a shrug, and Yixing’s not so sure that can be true, because those pants look too tight on Baekhyun to be comfortable. They do make his ass look great though, so maybe Yixing can let him have this. He wouldn’t mind seeing him in them more often, honestly. “Wait,” Baekhyun says, when Yixing doesn’t reply, “you don’t mind, do you?”
Yixing shakes his head. He doesn’t really. He’s just surprised. A little confused maybe. At least this explains why he couldn’t find his blue cardigan the other day. It must be at Baekhyun’s. “I don’t,” he says. “I just never realized how much you steal from me.”
Baekhyun pouts, tossing aside his book to climb into Yixing’s lap where he’s sitting in the armchair. “I’m not stealing,” he says. “I’m borrowing. With little intention to give back.”
“That’s stealing,” Yixing laughs, sliding his hands around to grab Baekhyun’s ass. It really does fill out his jeans exceptionally well. “What am I supposed to do when you’ve taken all my clothes?”
“Well, I’ve always told you that you look great naked,” Baekhyun says, leering, and Yixing figures the only way to retrieve his clothes is to get Baekhyun out of them.
7. cosplaying / chankai / pg-13 / 1149 wc
“I’m cold,” Chanyeol hisses, rubbing a hand down his arm and shivering. He squeezes his other hand around Jongin’s where they’re clasped together so they don’t get too separated in the crowd. “I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this.”
“Shush,” Jongin says, grinning as he glances back at Chanyeol over his shoulder. “You look great, okay? And it’s just for today, because of the Free! panel. I let you off the hook for tomorrow, remember?”
“I don’t mind dressing up with you. You have fun with it so I want to have fun with you,” Chanyeol says. He thinks it’s cute, really, how obsessive Jongin gets about his favorite anime and how much he enjoys creating the best outfits. He’s been going on and on about the convention for months now, probably since the convention last year ended.
That was where they’d met, actually, and Chanyeol knew he was doomed the second the pretty boy dressed as Sailor Mercury had asked him where the AMV viewing room was. Chanyeol had been too stunned to speak, honestly, and Baekhyun had jumped in to save him, catching onto Chanyeol’s look and recognizing what it meant. “Hey, we’re headed there, too!” he’d said, even though they weren’t, and invited to show Jongin and his friends the way. Thankfully somewhere along the journey, Chanyeol had found his voice again and managed to strike up an easy conversation with Jongin about the art style in Sailor Moon Crystal and they’d exchanged phone numbers before parting a few hours later.
They met up again a few more times throughout the convention, learned they went to the same university in the city, and Chanyeol might’ve said yes a little too enthusiastically when Jongin asked him out a week later.
It was only inevitable that Chanyeol would find himself here again, but he didn’t necessarily expect to be pulled into all of Jongin’s cosplaying endeavors. Yesterday he’d been shoved into a purple wig and Yosen jersey, and today he’s wandering around half-naked, shivering, as Tachibana Makoto.
At least Jongin is similarly dressed, cosplaying as Nanase Haruka. Chanyeol’s not sure why they had to dress like this, when the characters’ school uniforms were just as good, but Jongin wouldn’t hear any of it. “It’s a swimming anime!” he’d said. “How can we not be in their swimming uniforms??” He’d looked so determined about it that it was kind of cute and well, Chanyeol is weak to Jongin’s cuteness. At least it wasn’t a very complicated outfit, like the people wandering around as part of the Survey Corps. The only major thing they’d done was dye Chanyeol’s hair lighter so it’d match Makoto’s.
“Then why are you complaining?” Jongin says, pulling Chanyeol back from his thoughts. It takes him a moment to even realize what they’d been talking about.
When he does, he just shrugs and says, “Because I’m cold.” He pouts a little, for effect. “And people keep staring.”
“They’re staring because you’re hot,” Jongin says, and he gives Chanyeol a slow, once-over, lingering on his chest before darting back up to his face. His eyes are intense and he grips Chanyeol’s hand tighter, a little possessively. “Maybe I should get you a sweater,” he mumbles before turning away, tugging Chanyeol with him toward the Free! panel on the next floor.
Chanyeol thinks maybe he should get Jongin a sweater, because there’s no mistaking the looks he’s getting. Jongin, with his dancer-toned body and beautifully tanned skin from all the days out at the beach at the start of the summer, looks perfect as Haruka. Chanyeol knows he looks pretty good, too, but Jongin...Jongin’s making it hard to keep his hands to himself in public, to be honest.
The Free! panel is packed full of people. Chanyeol’s only ever watched the anime once, when Jongin marathoned it with him a few months ago after deciding he wanted to do the cosplay, so he only vaguely recognizes some of the other people in costume. At least in here he doesn’t feel too out of place being half-naked, but still wishes he could cover up a little.
They find seats in the middle of the room, with good view of the panelists, and Jongin is bouncing excitedly in his seat as they wait. He still hasn’t let go of his hand which doesn’t bother Chanyeol one bit, letting his thumb rub over Jongin’s knuckles. They’ve only been sitting for a few minutes when the boy in front of them notices their hands and then their outfits and grins.
“Hey, are you two dating?” he asks and Jongin turns to him with surprise, but then seems to understand something that Chanyeol doesn’t.
“Yeah, we are,” he says with a smile, holding up their joined hands.
“Then, do you mind…” the boy asks, waving between them.
“Mind what?” Chanyeol asks, furrowing his brows in confusion, and he only catches a smirk on the boy’s face before he’s suddenly got himself a lapful of Jongin, familiar hands cupping his face and then plush lips pressing against his own.
It takes him a moment, but then he gets it, laughing into the kiss as Jongin licks over his lips and presses his tongue into his mouth. If Jongin’s okay with this, then Chanyeol is, too, and he’s been itching for a chance to touch him properly ever since they left their hotel room. So he takes advantage of the moment, runs his hands up Jongin’s back and enjoys the way he shivers, and bites down lightly on his lower lip to draw out a tiny, gasping moan.
There’s a lot of whistling and catcalling from around them and that’s what has Chanyeol pulling back, remembering they’re really not alone and he doesn’t exactly want to drag this on too far. Jongin looks a little sheepish when he slips back into his seat on Chanyeol’s left, burrowing his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder, and it’s adorable how he goes from so confident and sexy to so shy in the span of seconds. Chanyeol squeezes his thigh and gives the boy gaping at them a smirk. “Good?” he asks, and the boy catches himself quickly, laughing and nodding.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it, but yes, that was great,” he says, then holds out a hand. “I’m Jongdae. I wanted to get my boyfriend in here to cosplay with me but he wasn’t having it.”
“You’ve just got to be persistent,” Chanyeol says sagely. “Isn’t that right, Jongin?”
“Shut up, Chanyeol,” Jongin grumbles, but then smiles at Jongdae, straightening back up in his seat, and making small-talk with their new acquaintance while they wait for the panel to begin.
Chanyeol leaves his hand on Jongin’s thigh, unable to shake the grin off his face. Suddenly, he’s not feeling so cold anymore.
>>read #8 here!
note: these were really a lot of fun so i hope you enjoyed even one!! \o/
and seriously makoharu is an anime chankai okay i just hAD TO THE COSPLAY PROMPT WAS ASKING FOR IT
anyway thank you very much for reading~~( ˘ ³˘)❤
/goes back to crying about dumb football exo
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come talk to me (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
if you read any of these, i hope you enjoy!! :D :D
1. holding hands / chankai / pg / 572 wc
Jongin is lost. Well, maybe not really lost, because he knows exactly where he is. He’d just stepped aside to ask the lady with the cute beagle puppy if he could pet it, and then, when he’d turned back around to pull Chanyeol with him, Chanyeol was nowhere to be seen. So now Jongin is a little lost because he has no idea where Chanyeol could have gone in the two seconds Jongin had slipped away and he feels a little anxious in the bustling crowd of the amusement park.
At least the puppy was cute, Jongin thinks as he fishes his phone from his pocket and calls Chanyeol, hoping he’ll be able to hear it through the incessant laughter and chatter, the screams from the people on rollercoasters and the endless sound of machinery as the rides continue on around him. “Come on,” he mutters, walking in the direction they’d been going, toward that one pirate themed ride Chanyeol wanted to do next, “Where are you?”
His call goes to voicemail and Jongin curses under his breath as he tries again, peering above people’s heads and looking for anyone that could be Chanyeol. “What’s the point of you being so tall if it doesn’t help me find you??” he grumbles, frustrated, and pulls his phone from his ear to glare at the screen when Chanyeol fails to pick up again.
Jongin runs a hand through his hair and circles around in his spot, looking carefully for Chanyeol in the distance. People around him give him annoyed looks as they pass but Jongin ignores it all, focused on the anxious bubbling his chest and hoping Chanyeol didn’t get himself in some kind of trouble and that’s why he can’t find him anywhere, why he’s not answering his phone. Someone knocks into him roughly as they run past and Jongin almost drops his phone to the ground, quickly tightening his grip and thinking he should probably at least move out of the way. He can just wait by a bench or something and pray that Chanyeol looks at his phone soon and notices his missed calls.
Before he even has the chance to step away though, there’s a hand grabbing his free one, familiar fingers lacing through Jongin’s and relief hits Jongin so suddenly he almost trips over himself in his haste to turn around. “Where did you go?” he exclaims, intending to reprimand Chanyeol for disappearing but instead his voice sounds a little soppy as he shuffles closer, pressing his forehead into Chanyeol’s chest and finally letting himself breathe.
“That’s what I should be asking you,” Chanyeol says, and he, too, sounds extremely relieved. He squeezes Jongin’s hand tightly, and at any other time Jongin might complain because it kind of hurts, but right now he just relishes it, the confirmation that Chanyeol is there.
“I’m sorry,” Jongin whispers, leaning back to look up at Chanyeol, who smiles down at him and gives a slight shake of his head.
“Me, too,” he says, and Jongin feels his face heat up when Chanyeol presses a soft kiss to his temple. There are more people giving them looks now, but Jongin doesn’t care. “Let’s not lose each other like that again, okay?”
“Don’t let go of my hand then,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol rubs his thumbs over his knuckles as he laughs.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, and Jongin grins back.
2. cuddling / xingdae / pg / 1140 wc
The dorm is empty when Yixing gets back. It’s not uncommon these days, when most of the group has acting schedules and the rest are rehearsing for the repackage, but it still feels a little lonely returning from Beijing or Shenzhen or wherever he’s been to an empty, quiet dorm. When he’s exceptionally tired, it can be nice though, not having to put on a smile or fight away the exhaustion to entertain all of the other member’s questions or fend of Sehun demanding if he brought him back a souvenir like Yixing was gone on vacation instead for work.
Today it’s a mix of both, the loneliness and the exhaustion, and it’s the exhaustion that wins. The constant flying has really messed up his sleep schedules and his neck still feels kind of sore on occasion from the Go Fighting filming. He’ll probably have to head to the company later to catch up on choreo practice and everything else he’s missed while he’s been away, but he thinks maybe an hour’s worth of sleep will do him good. Just enough to rest and hopefully rejuvenate. It’s better than nothing.
He collapses in his bed the second he walks into his and Jongdae’s room, not even bothering to turn on the light. Jongdae keeps everything tidy so there’s nothing in the way to trip over like if he’d attempted to navigate Junmyeon’s room in the dark, and his bed feels so soft and comfortable as he curls up on his side. He has enough sensibility to set an alarm on his phone before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him over.
When Yixing wakes with a start sometime later, he can’t find his phone next to him. Instead, there’s a body, and familiar voice grumbling at him when Yixing pokes around in the dark.
“Stop that, Yixing-ge,” Jongdae says, and Yixing pulls his hands back, blinking down at the bed and just barely making out Jongdae’s form next to him.
“What time is it?” Yixing asks, his mouth feeling like cotton. “My alarm--”
“I turned it off,” Jongdae says and he’s shuffling closer to Yixing now, hands sliding up around Yixing’s waist. “Minseok-hyung said he’d come get us in a few minutes, so for now just lie here with me, okay?”
Yixing still feels a little disoriented because he definitely wasn’t expecting to wake up to Jongdae, warm and soft and pulling him close, but he can’t say that he doesn’t like it. Jongdae’s full of natural affection and Yixing misses that a lot now that he spends so much more time in China instead, and he lets himself relax in Jongdae’s hold, smiling as he clings back. “I can do that,” he says, and he feels Jongdae’s lips stretch into a grin against his collarbones.
“Good,” he says and Yixing wishes the lights were on so he could properly see his face. Instead he just cuddles in a little closer, sliding a leg between Jongdae’s thighs and feeling so perfectly at home, content. His earlier tiredness is mostly gone now, just lingering bouts of weariness that comes with the job no matter what, and Jongdae is definitely making it all better right now, fingers dancing up Yixing’s sides until Yixing squirms away, ticklish.
“Stop that,” Yixing says and Jongdae’s laughter is just as bright as always, and Yixing’s missed that, so much, too. It’s not nearly the same over the phone, or the silly laughing emoticons that Jongdae will spam him with after a joke. Yixing’s proud of all the opportunities he’s been getting recently, but it’s so different, being on his own so much. He hasn’t quite gotten used to it.
“How was filming, hyung?” Jongdae asks and Yixing hums thoughtfully, thinking it over. “Next time you should take me with you.”
Yixing laughs, pokes at Jongdae’s stomach through his shirt. “Okay,” he says, “better work on your Mandarin, then. I won’t let you speak any Korean while we’re there.”
Jongdae mock-gasps even as he cuddles closer. “Being a CEO has changed you,” he says and Yixing groans, hiding his face in Jongdae’s neck in embarrassment. He gets enough of that from the fans, from interviewers who clearly like watching him squirm.
“Don’t call me that,” Yixing says weakly and Jongdae cackles at him, clearly amused, and Yixing doesn’t need the lights on to know Jongdae’s probably got that sneaky little grin of his on his face, ready to attack. So he beats him at it by giving Jongdae’s stomach a hard pinch, and laughs at Jongdae’s startled yelp.
“Hyung,” Jongdae whines cutely, and Yixing apologizes by gently rubbing his fingers over the skin, slipping his hand under Jongdae’s shirt to get there properly and Jongdae is probably pouting and Yixing wonders, not for the first time, about kissing him.
He doesn’t though, just pets Jongdae’s head, heart pounding in his chest as he pushes aside those dangerous thoughts. Being this close doesn’t really help, but Yixing just enjoys it for what it is, Jongdae’s comfort, maybe even his way of showing Yixing that he missed him, too.
Of course, reality comes knocking on the door in form of Minseok, who switches on the light and gives Jongdae and Yixing a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “We’ve got shit to do and you’re just lying here cuddling?” he says, raising a brow, and Yixing grins at him once his eyes have managed to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room.
“Do you want cuddles, too, hyung?” he teases. “You could always join us.”
Except Jongdae’s arms tighten around Yixing’s waist at that and he curls in even closer. Yixing can’t quite see his face from this angle, but the way Jongdae’s holding him almost feels a little possessive, and there’s a burst of hope in his chest that he pushes aside just as quickly as it comes because now probably isn’t the time to think about what any of this might mean. He wonders how to maybe take back his words, but then Minseok is just laughing and shaking his head.
“No, thanks,” he says. “Looks like Jongdae’s got it covered.” He smirks at Yixing in a sort of terrible, knowing way, and Yixing just stares back with his usual blank face. “Nice to have you back, Yixing,” he adds before letting them know their manager is here and to get out of bed.
When he’s gone, Yixing turns back to Jongdae, who is grinning up at him. “It is nice to be back,” Yixing says, meeting Jongdae’s eyes.
“Clearly, because I’m here,” Jongdae says, and Yixing attacks him with his fingers, giving his butt a sound smack as Jongdae darts out of the bed, laughing. Maybe someday, Yixing thinks as he gives chase, he can tell Jongdae that he might just be right.
3. gaming/watching a movie / sebaek / pg-13 / 474 wc
“How the fuck are you winning when you’re barely paying attention?” Sehun grumbles, trying to catch up where he’s fallen behind on his second lap.
Next to him, Baekhyun cackles loudly and throws a banana peel into the lane, tripping up Donkey Kong and Rosalina, and his elbow jabs into Sehun’s ribs. He’s half-playing, half-watching some YouTube video on his laptop set aside on the coffee table and he’s fucking winning, and Sehun can’t let that happen.
He swerves on the screen, picks up a mushroom to gain some speed and manages to close off the distance quite well, and carefully inches a little closer to Baekhyun. Baekhyun doesn’t seem to notice, his attention already so preoccupied on other things, so Sehun drags his foot up along Baekhyun’s calf and then casually throws it over his knee, digs his toes into the flesh of his other thigh.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun says slowly, curiously, but Sehun keeps his eyes on the television, biting his lower lip as he flies past a few more characters, quickly coming up behind Baekhyun’s Wario and Luigi, who are in the lead.
“Winning,” Sehun says, tossing out a Koopa shell that successfully knocks out Luigi and puts his Princess Peach neck-and-neck with Wario. He shifts even closer now, leaning into Baekhyun’s space, and just catches Baekhyun’s narrowed eyes before he smirks, wide.
“We’ll see about that,” Baekhyun says, and now his attention is undivided, solely on the screen as they make their last lap. He doesn’t pull any punches, either, kicking aside Sehun’s legs and throwing his own over his lap, falling aside on the couch to give himself more room to press the heel of his foot into Sehun’s crotch.
“Fuck,” Sehun hisses, trying to elbow him back, and he’s starting to wonder how he even thought he could distract Baekhyun like this. Baekhyun, who probably has a masters degree in the art of touching with the way he’s somehow managed to climb halfway onto Sehun’s lap and dodge another banana peel at the same time.
“Come on, Sehunnie,” he teases, whispering into Sehun’s ear as he pushes his ass back on his lap. “I thought you said you’re gonna win.”
And like that Baekhyun zips past the finish line, Sehun trailing after just seconds later, and the screen flashes their corresponding places as Sehun groans, tossing his controller to the floor and slumping against the couch. “You’re the worst,” Sehun says, without any real heat, and Baekhyun just grins at him and pats his cheek.
“Don’t worry,” he says, dropping his hand to the zipper on Sehun’s jeans. “I’ll make it up to you.” He smirks at Sehun as he slides down to his knees and Sehun decides that coming in second place every once in awhile is really not so bad.
4. on a date / kaixing / r / 1168 wc
It’s their fourth date. Jongin really shouldn’t be so nervous, but it’s the first time he’s actually going over to Yixing’s place so he can’t help the way anxiety has settled like lead in his chest. He rubs his palms over his thighs and takes a deep breath before knocking on the door.
The second Yixing answers, one of his beautiful dimpled smiles on his face, Jongin feels all that unease wash away. “Hey, you’re right on time,” Yixing says, stepping aside to let Jongin through the door, and then greets him with a soft kiss on the lips. Jongin grins at him, pulls him in for another, and steps out of his shoes before letting Yixing grab his hand and drag him inside.
“You didn’t have trouble getting here, did you?” Yixing asks, glancing over his shoulder at Jongin who quickly shakes his head.
“No, it was fine,” he says, giving Yixing’s hand a slight squeeze before releasing it when they end up in the kitchen. There are dishes and food all over the place, but it smells amazing, whatever Yixing’s been making, and Jongin’s stomach growls appreciatively. Yixing laughs, amused, and Jongin gives his stomach a pat to shut it up. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I haven’t really had anything to eat since this morning.”
That has Yixing frowning at him, concern in his eyes. He’s always texting Jongin to take better care of himself, to get enough sleep and not to miss meals, but sometimes Jongin forgets regardless. “Didn’t you have a game this afternoon? You shouldn’t play when you haven’t eaten,” he says and Jongin shrugs a little.
“I had a granola bar or two,” Jongin says with a shrug and Yixing sighs, shaking his head.
“Well, this should all be done soon, so you can eat,” Yixing says. “Come help me, okay?”
“I’m not very good at cooking,” Jongin admits, rubbing the back of his neck, but Yixing just smiles at him.
“I’ll give you the easy jobs to do,” he says, setting Jongin up with a cutting board and knife. He places a few washed tomatoes at the side. “Just cut these up into little cubes.” He pats Jongin’s back gently when Jongin nods, and watches him make a few slices before stepping aside. “I heard you guys won today.”
“Did Minseok tell you already?” Jongin says, pouting. “I was planning to surprise you with the news.”
“Why, were you trying to impress me?” Yixing teases. “I already like you, you know.”
Jongin laughs and aims a half-hearted kick at him, cheeks a little warm, because, yes, maybe he was trying to impress. Jongin had a personal best game that afternoon and he wanted to tell Yixing all about it. “It was a good game,” he says. “You have to come to the next one, okay?”
“I’ll do my best to cheer you on,” Yixing agrees, giving Jongin’s butt a pat as he passes by to grab the salt and pepper shaker from the other side of the counter. “Tell me all the details,” he says. “Minseok only told me about the win.”
Jongin pushes aside the first completed tomato and picks up the next, slicing off the top and bottom before he tells Yixing about the game. It’s not a real game or anything, just a simple football league that Jongin joined with a few friends about two years ago. They play on the weekends when they can and keep score and Jongin’s, or, well, Minseo’s team, is in the lead this time around. They haven’t had a consistent win in awhile so Jongin is pretty happy.
That was how he’d met Yixing, too, about five months ago. He was a friend of Minseok’s, filling in for Minho on their team since he couldn’t make it to that game. Yixing, who was kind and competitive and really, really hot in his makeshift uniform, shirt sleeves rolled up to show off defined arms, was hard to ignore. It didn’t help that he was friendly with everyone, fitting in like he’d been a part of the team for years, and he even seemed to be friends with the captain of the opposing team, Lu Han, who would playfully shove him during the match and shriek whenever Yixing smacked his butt in response.
It wasn’t until the following week that really anything happened. Yixing came by again just to watch the match and Jongin ended up in a tumble that strained his ankle too much to play the second half. He’d ended up on the side of the field next to Yixing, who grabbed his foot and laid it out over his lap, and said, “I hear you should keep it elevated or something,” and smiled Jongin with that dimpled smile. Just like that, the anger Jongin felt about having to step out of the game all but vanished, and he spent the rest of the afternoon cheering on his team, chatting with Yixing and drinking up every one of his cute smiles and even cuter laughs.
It’s almost no surprise they ended up here, cooking dinner together as they talk about their day, Yixing trying to keep a straight face at Jongin’s mix-matched pile of cut tomatoes, and trading kisses in between. Yixing asked Jongin out a couple of weeks ago for the first time, after months of exchanging texts and meeting up for meals whenever they could. They’d gone to a movie and made out furiously in the doorway to Jongin’s apartment before his roommate, Kyungsoo, found them, and Yixing had left with a promise of later bright in his eyes.
Later ended up being their second date only a few days later, when Yixing fucked Jongin slowly over the armrest of his couch and made him come twice before he finished, and let Jongin drag him to Koreatown for barbecue and a few hours of karaoke.
“What’re you thinking about?” Yixing says suddenly, wrapping toned arms around Jongin’s waist from behind and resting his chin atop his right shoulder.
It pulls Jongin out of his thoughts with a start and he laughs a little, shaking his head and clearing his mind. “Just how I blew you in the karaoke booth on our second date,” he says, willing himself not to blush at the mention of it. In the end, it’s the intense look Yixing gives him over his shoulder and the warm press of his hands at Jongin’s stomach, reaching under his shirt, that has heat filling his face instead.
“You can do that again later, if you so want,” he says, then kisses behind Jongin’s ear with a laugh when Jongin lets out an embarrassed squeak. “For now, let’s finish dinner, okay?”
Jongin turns in his arms to kiss him properly on the lips, just because, and maybe also a promise for later, and nods. “Okay,” he says, looking forward to how the night will go, and all the dates waiting for them in the future.
5. kissing / sekai / pg-13 / 3285 wc
The first kiss is at three A.M., tasting like fruity drinks and cigarette smoke. Jongin presses deeper, closing, drinking it in, the warmth of Sehun’s mouth, the slick, heavy weight of his tongue. He’s dizzy with it, aching, and maybe it’s from all the alcohol, from the pounding bass in his ears as Sehun shoves him into a wall at the small bar and kisses back. They’d always been told they looked older than their age, and it’s not the first time they’ve flashed fake IDs to get into a good show. Dancing together, sliding hands over each other bodies, swaying hips to the beat, that was all familiar.
This, this is new. This is good. In the haze, Jongin is addicted. Thinks he could kiss Sehun like this forever.
In the harsh morning sunlight, hours later, throbbing behind his eyes, Sehun looks at him from the floor and says, “What the fuck did we do last night?” and Jongin swallows down the lingering taste of him on his tongue.
Jongin pushes it away. Forgives, forgets. They’re just seventeen, anyway, and Sehun is his best friend. That’s more important than a drunken make out session in the back of a stupid club.
Two years later, it happens again. Only Jongin isn’t drunk, but Sehun is, banging on the door to Jongin’s dorm room and giggling when he nearly falls to the floor once Jongin’s opened it. “Jesus, you reek,” Jongin says, wrinkling his nose and dragging Sehun to his bed, shoves him down. He’s glad Taemin isn’t around, and even more glad when Sehun grabs his wrist and yanks, groaning when Jongin sprawls over him.
“Let me go, Sehun--I’ll--I’ll get you some water,” Jongin says, struggling to move, because they’re too close. Too close, and Sehun’s only gotten more handsome in the past two years. His lips are so soft, pink.
It wasn’t so easy to forget, in the end.
Sehun traps Jongin to the bed, spread halfway over him, and Jongin always forgets how much of a clingy drunk he is until he’s stuck like this, heart pounding. Then Sehun is kissing him, the first touch of his lips after all this time like a jolt of lightning through Jongin’s body. It’s hesitant, then more forceful, groaning when Jongin doesn’t respond, tongue insistently licking at the part between his lips before kissing harder.
Jongin clenches his eyes shut tight, counts to ten, and then pushes Sehun away so hard he falls off the bed. He doesn’t stick around to hear what he has to say, darts straight out of the room and hides in the bathroom down the hall and when he returns twenty minutes later, Sehun is asleep on the floor and Jongin’s lips are still tingling.
Chanyeol’s kisses aren’t like Sehun’s at all. That’s what Jongin’s thinking when Sehun walks into the apartment and catches the two of them on the couch. Jongin feels tense, awkward, even as Chanyeol grins easily at Sehun, who’s standing blank-faced by the door, and greets himself like there’s nothing wrong. There’s so much wrong, and Jongin’s heart sinks a bit at the way Chanyeol smiles fondly at Jongin and kisses his forehead before he leaves. Chanyeol’s kisses are soft, gentle, and Jongin wishes they were enough.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sehun says, tossing his backpack to the floor and flopping onto the couch.
“Ah, yeah...it’s still pretty new,” Jongin says with a shrug. This had only been their third date. Jongin didn’t want to say anything until he was sure he was interested in Chanyeol enough that looking at Sehun wouldn’t ache as much. It’s obvious that he’s failed. He shouldn’t be thinking of the way Sehun’s lips feel against his when it’s Chanyeol kissing him.
“You still could’ve told me,” Sehun says, and he sounds kind of angry. “I should know when my best friend is making out with someone on our couch.”
Why do you care, Jongin thinks. You only want to kiss me when you don’t have to remember in the morning.
He doesn’t say that out loud. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just picks himself up from the couch and retreats to his room, falling face-first into bed and wishing it was easier to move on.
A week later, Sehun tries to cheer Jongin up after he breaks up with Chanyeol by marathoning DBZ and ordering copious amounts of pizza and barbecue wings. There’s, of course, copious amounts of alcohol, too, and Jongin keeps count, making sure not to get too carried away, while Sehun pours himself drink after drink as they devour food and scream at the television.
Jongin isn’t as devastated over the break up as Sehun thinks he is. Chanyeol’s a nice guy, and even though he was clearly hurt, he took it well. Jongin hadn’t elaborated the details when he relayed the information to his best friend, but clearly Sehun wants to make him feel better and Jongin is happy with the attention, so he lets it be.
Sehun’s got his head on Jongin’s shoulder a few hours later, a hand innocently on his thigh, and it’s a sort of closeness they’ve always had, but lately Jongin can’t stand it. He tries to pull away, the way he has all night, not touching Sehun unless necessary, gently shrugging him off if he got too close, and he freezes in his spot when Sehun grumbles, “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” Jongin whispers, anxiety bubbling in his belly.
“You keep moving away,” Sehun says, and he lifts his head to look at Jongin, eyes surprisingly serious for how drunk Jongin knows he is. “You keep pulling away from me.”
Jongin laughs, trying to make light of the situation and gives Sehun’s head a light pat. “No, I’m not,” he lies. “You’re just drunk. You should go to sleep.”
Thinking he’s off the hook, Jongin makes to stand, but then Sehun is climbing straight into his lap, pushing at Jongin’s shoulders until his back hits the floor. “Sehun, what--” he starts, but his words are cut off by Sehun’s mouth, and fuck. Fuck. Not again.
Jongin can’t deal with this anymore. All these years, all this time. Pushing aside his feelings, trying to understand, wondering why it couldn’t be him Sehun wanted to date, instead of just the convenient friend that’s around for a drunken hookup. Anger, frustration, the aching in his chest, it all builds and builds and he pushes Sehun away, harder than the last time, even, and Sehun goes scrambling backwards, knocking over empty cans of beer and the open bottle of vodka, spilling it all over the carpet.
“What the hell, Jongin?” Sehun exclaims, but Jongin just glares at him, shaking.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps back and Sehun clamps his mouth shut tight, eyes widening. Jongin doesn’t get angry very often, and least of all with Sehun, but he can’t do this anymore. He can’t. “You can’t just kiss me like this again. You can’t just go around doing these things and pretending it never happened because it suits you.” There’s so much he wants to say, the truth of his feelings on the tip of his tongue, but he’s so tired. All he wants is to get away. “Just--go find someone else to fuck around with,” he says finally.
Sehun doesn’t say anything, stunned, maybe, to silence. That’s fine with Jongin. He doesn’t want to hear excuses. He pulls himself to his feet and drags himself to his room, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it as he rubs at his eyes and tries not to think about just how good Sehun’s mouth felt on him yet again.
Jongin has every intention of ignoring Sehun for the next few days. Weeks, months, even. He could do it. He’s stubborn when he wants something, and right now the last thing he wants is to see his friend. He’s pretty sure Kyungsoo would let him crash at his place for awhile if necessary, and if all else fails, Jongin could commute from his sister’s place for a week until she inevitably kicks him back out.
He doesn’t, however, expect to find Sehun standing right in front of his door when he opens it that very next morning, looking exceptionally distraught.
“Can we talk?” Sehun asks, his voice small, and Jongin wonders if it would be childish of him to slam the door back in his face.
“I don’t have anything to say,” Jongin replies coolly, shoving bodily past Sehun toward the kitchen. He was planning to make something to eat, but now he’s not so sure he’s hungry anymore. Still, he starts pulling things out of the fridge to give him something to do and just about drops a frying pan on his foot when Sehun blurts out, “I’m sorry!”
Jongin takes a deep breath before he slowly turns around, tightening his grip on the handle of the pan like he might actually use it if Sehun does something stupid like kiss him again. “What?” he says.
Sehun shoves his hands into the pockets of his loose sweats, rocking back and forth a bit on his feet. “You were right, last night. I’m sorry for getting angry when you pushed me away. I’m sorry--I’m sorry for kissing you, not just last night, but...the other times, too.”
“You remember?” Jongin hisses and now he’s seriously considering throwing the pan at Sehun’s head.
“Vaguely,” Sehun says, looking guilty. “Never right away, either. Like I’d suddenly remember a few days later and then feel sick all over again, like I can’t believe I didn’t know I’d done it and, well, that’s not really an excuse, right?” He laughs awkwardly but breaks off quickly enough when Jongin just stares at him. “Look, Jongin, I’m really sorry. I was drunk, I was being stupid, and I shouldn’t have done any of it, and definitely shouldn’t have pretended like I didn’t remember, and--”
“God, Sehun, you don’t get it!” Jongin interrupts, feeling a little sick to his stomach. When Sehun stops ranting to look at him, Jongin licks his lips and says, “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were seventeen, and every time you kiss me and pretend it didn’t happen, it’s--fuck.” Jongin runs a hand through his hair, tries to sort out his thoughts, and when he looks at Sehun again, his eyes are wide in surprise. Clearly he wasn’t expecting a sudden confession, and truthfully, Jongin wasn’t expecting to give one, but he doesn’t know how else he can explain, how else he can fix this. Maybe if Sehun knows, he’ll be more careful in the future. Won’t put Jongin in that position. And maybe, finally, Jongin can move on.
“Maybe I should’ve told you years ago so you could stop doing it,” Jongin continues, “and that’s my fault, but if you’re hoping that I’ll just give in for a quick fuck whenever you’re drunk or something then...then you need to find someone else. I won’t be so nice about it the next time.”
The silence between them stretches on for awhile, but Jongin’s said his piece and there’s not much else he can do to make Sehun understand. Now, he thinks, he will just have to patch up his broken heart on his own, the way he’s been doing for years. Only this time, it hurts the most.
“You like me?” Sehun says suddenly and Jongin wants to laugh because he’s so oblivious. “As in, you want to date me?”
“Yes, Sehun,” Jongin says with a sigh. “I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen. Ever since we kissed that first time, and I thought…” He swallows, his throat suddenly thick and sadness prickling behind his eyes. “I thought you did, too.” He laughs hollowly and adds, when Sehun seems at a loss for words, “Clearly I was wrong. And, well, now you know the truth. So can you just, I don’t know, leave me alone for awhile?”
He turns away without waiting for an answer, tries to calm the rapid beating of his heart with slow, steady breaths. He’s still gripping onto the frying pan like it’s a lifeline and can’t find it in himself to do much of anything but stand there, staring at the kitchen counter, waiting for Sehun to either say something or walk away. Walk out of his life, maybe, because Jongin just told him he’s in love with him.
What he doesn’t expect is for Sehun to stay. For Sehun pull lightly at Jongin’s elbow, trying to get him to turn and look at him again, but Jongin doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to hear the inevitable rejection or see the pity in Sehun’s eyes. “Jongin, please,” Sehun says and he sounds a little upset that he’s being ignored but can Sehun really blame him?
“Just leave me alone, Sehun,” Jongin mutters, shaking his hand off his arm, but then Sehun’s pulling on his wrist, tugging at him until Jongin really doesn’t have a choice but to turn lest he fall straight over his feet. He’s surprised, then, to find there isn’t any pity on Sehun’s face, no lingering remorse for all his mixed signals, nothing that indicates he’s thinking of leaving Jongin there to deal with this on his own. Instead, there’s something dreadfully like hope in his eyes, in the way he’s searching Jongin’s face like he’s looking for the last piece of the puzzle, trying to fit them all together before he gives his answer. His fingers tighten around Jongin’s wrist and when Jongin licks his lips this time, he catches the way Sehun’s gaze darts down to his mouth.
“You weren’t wrong,” Sehun says and Jongin’s breath lodges itself in his throat. “You thought I liked you. I do like you, Jongin. Maybe--Maybe not for as long as you have, but even when I’m sober I want to kiss you and I don’t know, okay? I’m just--It’s easier when I’m drunk and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“Didn’t mean to what?” Jongin whispers harshly, not sure he can even believe what he’s hearing. After all this time...He doesn’t know if he’s happy or angry or some strange mix of both. “Didn’t mean to mess with my feelings? Didn’t think I’d mind just making out with you and forgetting about it?”
“I didn’t think you’d like me back!” Sehun shouts, and then quickly slams his mouth shut, looking a little embarrassed for raising his voice. His cheeks are flushed red and he’s gripping Jongin’s wrist so tight now Jongin’s sure there will be bruises later. “I was afraid of ruining things, I just wanted--I wanted to see what it was like. Thought it might be the only way.” He looks down at his feet then and Jongin just stares at him, stunned, because Sehun sounds completely sincere and Jongin...Jongin gets it, a little. All this time he’d been hoping Sehun liked him, too, but Jongin was just as afraid of ruining their friendship to confront him about the kisses. Just let them fade away like Sehun did.
“You’re serious?” Jongin asks, shaking Sehun’s hand a little so that he looks back up.
Sehun nods, biting his lower lip. “Last night--fuck, Jongin, I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have done it, not when I was trying to make you feel better about Chanyeol, it’s just that, I was really happy that you guys had split up, you know? Because I thought maybe I stood a chance?” He laughs, scratches the side of his neck. “Obviously I didn’t go about it in the right way.”
“Obviously,” Jongin repeats, incredulous. Sehun...Sehun likes him, too? This can’t be happening.
“So, really, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked up, more than once, but I like you, too, Jongin, a fucking lot, okay? And I’d like to kiss you now, so maybe if you put that frying pan down we could…”
Jongin blinks, looks down at his hand, and readjusts his grip on the handle of the pan. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, glancing back up at Sehun and smiling despite himself, “I’m still considering smacking you in the head with it.”
“Hey,” Sehun protests, pouting, and god, Jongin wants to kiss him, too.
“You’re such an idiot,” he says instead, pulling his hand from Sehun’s so he can shove him instead. “I can’t fucking believe you, you’re such a fucking idiot.” He shoves him again, harder this time with both his hands, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, and Sehun grabs his wrists, gently pulls the pan out of Jongin’s hand and sets it onto the counter behind him.
He takes Jongin’s hands in his again and says, “Can I kiss you, Jongin?” and Jongin doesn’t even bother answering, just surges forward and kisses him.
It’s a lot like their very first kiss, eager and rushed and a little desperate, but it’s so much better. Infinitely better. The way Sehun’s hands slide up from his wrists to cup Jongin’s face, the way he tilts his head and lets his tongue push into Jongin’s mouth, how he drinks up Jongin’s moan and kisses him harder, maybe the way he’s really wanted to the other times before Jongin had shoved him away. Jongin will take this over any of those other kisses, because this time he knows how Sehun really feels, and this time he knows they will both remember. Not just in the morning, but five, ten minutes from now, even. Next week, too. Sehun will remember and Jongin won’t have to ache with want every time he looks at him, instead he can just kiss him when he wants to and know that Sehun will kiss him back.
Jongin grips Sehun’s hips, the two of the fumbling a little until Sehun’s back hits the fridge, and there’s the sound of something hitting the floor, a magnet, maybe, but Jongin just bites into Sehun’s lower lip and groans, presses up against him. “Sehun,” Jongin pants into his mouth, “this is--”
“Shut up,” Sehun grumbles, one of his hands now tangled in Jongin’s hair. He pulls him back, just enough for Jongin to see the intensity in his eyes, his spit-slick lips, and then they’re crushing their mouths together again, kissing like they’re starved for it. Jongin definitely thinks he has been.
He doesn’t know how long they continue like that, but when they do finally part, Jongin’s jaw feels a little strained and there’s the beginning of arousal stirring low in his belly that he tries to push away. Sehun looks much the same as he feels, winded from the pleasure, and Jongin wouldn’t mind going further, really, not when he’s waited so long but then Sehun’s stomach growls so loudly it seems to echo off the walls in their tiny kitchen.
Jongin bursts out laughing as Sehun’s already flushed cheeks turn a shade darker. He shoves Jongin away, grumbling, and Jongin wheezes as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Don’t make me hit you with the goddamn frying pan,” Sehun says, picking it up again and Jongin covers his mouth with a hand to hide his lingering giggles. Thankfully Sehun just looks a little amused instead of angry, eyes soft and fond now as he stares at Jongin, and Jongin walks back over to him and says, “So, breakfast?”
“Only if you make it,” Sehun returns and kisses away Jongin’s protests.
6. wearing each other’s clothes / baekxing / pg / 349 wc
They’ve been dating for three months before Yixing notices that Baekhyun is a clothes-stealer. Not in the actual sense that he’s trying to rob Yixing of his wardrobe, but that whenever Yixing leaves behind a sweater or hat at Baekhyun’s apartment, the next time he sees him, Baekhyun will be wearing it. He never mentions it either, just acts as if it was all apart of his closet in the first place, and maybe that’s why it took so long for Yixing to even realize.
But there he is today, lounging across Yixing’s couch wearing a pair of Yixing’s jeans and one of Yixing’s old college hoodies. “Do you not own your own clothes?” Yixing blurts out and Baekhyun looks down from the manga he’s reading to assess his outfit, then grins up at Yixing.
“Your clothes are more comfy,” he says with a shrug, and Yixing’s not so sure that can be true, because those pants look too tight on Baekhyun to be comfortable. They do make his ass look great though, so maybe Yixing can let him have this. He wouldn’t mind seeing him in them more often, honestly. “Wait,” Baekhyun says, when Yixing doesn’t reply, “you don’t mind, do you?”
Yixing shakes his head. He doesn’t really. He’s just surprised. A little confused maybe. At least this explains why he couldn’t find his blue cardigan the other day. It must be at Baekhyun’s. “I don’t,” he says. “I just never realized how much you steal from me.”
Baekhyun pouts, tossing aside his book to climb into Yixing’s lap where he’s sitting in the armchair. “I’m not stealing,” he says. “I’m borrowing. With little intention to give back.”
“That’s stealing,” Yixing laughs, sliding his hands around to grab Baekhyun’s ass. It really does fill out his jeans exceptionally well. “What am I supposed to do when you’ve taken all my clothes?”
“Well, I’ve always told you that you look great naked,” Baekhyun says, leering, and Yixing figures the only way to retrieve his clothes is to get Baekhyun out of them.
7. cosplaying / chankai / pg-13 / 1149 wc
“I’m cold,” Chanyeol hisses, rubbing a hand down his arm and shivering. He squeezes his other hand around Jongin’s where they’re clasped together so they don’t get too separated in the crowd. “I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this.”
“Shush,” Jongin says, grinning as he glances back at Chanyeol over his shoulder. “You look great, okay? And it’s just for today, because of the Free! panel. I let you off the hook for tomorrow, remember?”
“I don’t mind dressing up with you. You have fun with it so I want to have fun with you,” Chanyeol says. He thinks it’s cute, really, how obsessive Jongin gets about his favorite anime and how much he enjoys creating the best outfits. He’s been going on and on about the convention for months now, probably since the convention last year ended.
That was where they’d met, actually, and Chanyeol knew he was doomed the second the pretty boy dressed as Sailor Mercury had asked him where the AMV viewing room was. Chanyeol had been too stunned to speak, honestly, and Baekhyun had jumped in to save him, catching onto Chanyeol’s look and recognizing what it meant. “Hey, we’re headed there, too!” he’d said, even though they weren’t, and invited to show Jongin and his friends the way. Thankfully somewhere along the journey, Chanyeol had found his voice again and managed to strike up an easy conversation with Jongin about the art style in Sailor Moon Crystal and they’d exchanged phone numbers before parting a few hours later.
They met up again a few more times throughout the convention, learned they went to the same university in the city, and Chanyeol might’ve said yes a little too enthusiastically when Jongin asked him out a week later.
It was only inevitable that Chanyeol would find himself here again, but he didn’t necessarily expect to be pulled into all of Jongin’s cosplaying endeavors. Yesterday he’d been shoved into a purple wig and Yosen jersey, and today he’s wandering around half-naked, shivering, as Tachibana Makoto.
At least Jongin is similarly dressed, cosplaying as Nanase Haruka. Chanyeol’s not sure why they had to dress like this, when the characters’ school uniforms were just as good, but Jongin wouldn’t hear any of it. “It’s a swimming anime!” he’d said. “How can we not be in their swimming uniforms??” He’d looked so determined about it that it was kind of cute and well, Chanyeol is weak to Jongin’s cuteness. At least it wasn’t a very complicated outfit, like the people wandering around as part of the Survey Corps. The only major thing they’d done was dye Chanyeol’s hair lighter so it’d match Makoto’s.
“Then why are you complaining?” Jongin says, pulling Chanyeol back from his thoughts. It takes him a moment to even realize what they’d been talking about.
When he does, he just shrugs and says, “Because I’m cold.” He pouts a little, for effect. “And people keep staring.”
“They’re staring because you’re hot,” Jongin says, and he gives Chanyeol a slow, once-over, lingering on his chest before darting back up to his face. His eyes are intense and he grips Chanyeol’s hand tighter, a little possessively. “Maybe I should get you a sweater,” he mumbles before turning away, tugging Chanyeol with him toward the Free! panel on the next floor.
Chanyeol thinks maybe he should get Jongin a sweater, because there’s no mistaking the looks he’s getting. Jongin, with his dancer-toned body and beautifully tanned skin from all the days out at the beach at the start of the summer, looks perfect as Haruka. Chanyeol knows he looks pretty good, too, but Jongin...Jongin’s making it hard to keep his hands to himself in public, to be honest.
The Free! panel is packed full of people. Chanyeol’s only ever watched the anime once, when Jongin marathoned it with him a few months ago after deciding he wanted to do the cosplay, so he only vaguely recognizes some of the other people in costume. At least in here he doesn’t feel too out of place being half-naked, but still wishes he could cover up a little.
They find seats in the middle of the room, with good view of the panelists, and Jongin is bouncing excitedly in his seat as they wait. He still hasn’t let go of his hand which doesn’t bother Chanyeol one bit, letting his thumb rub over Jongin’s knuckles. They’ve only been sitting for a few minutes when the boy in front of them notices their hands and then their outfits and grins.
“Hey, are you two dating?” he asks and Jongin turns to him with surprise, but then seems to understand something that Chanyeol doesn’t.
“Yeah, we are,” he says with a smile, holding up their joined hands.
“Then, do you mind…” the boy asks, waving between them.
“Mind what?” Chanyeol asks, furrowing his brows in confusion, and he only catches a smirk on the boy’s face before he’s suddenly got himself a lapful of Jongin, familiar hands cupping his face and then plush lips pressing against his own.
It takes him a moment, but then he gets it, laughing into the kiss as Jongin licks over his lips and presses his tongue into his mouth. If Jongin’s okay with this, then Chanyeol is, too, and he’s been itching for a chance to touch him properly ever since they left their hotel room. So he takes advantage of the moment, runs his hands up Jongin’s back and enjoys the way he shivers, and bites down lightly on his lower lip to draw out a tiny, gasping moan.
There’s a lot of whistling and catcalling from around them and that’s what has Chanyeol pulling back, remembering they’re really not alone and he doesn’t exactly want to drag this on too far. Jongin looks a little sheepish when he slips back into his seat on Chanyeol’s left, burrowing his face into Chanyeol’s shoulder, and it’s adorable how he goes from so confident and sexy to so shy in the span of seconds. Chanyeol squeezes his thigh and gives the boy gaping at them a smirk. “Good?” he asks, and the boy catches himself quickly, laughing and nodding.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it, but yes, that was great,” he says, then holds out a hand. “I’m Jongdae. I wanted to get my boyfriend in here to cosplay with me but he wasn’t having it.”
“You’ve just got to be persistent,” Chanyeol says sagely. “Isn’t that right, Jongin?”
“Shut up, Chanyeol,” Jongin grumbles, but then smiles at Jongdae, straightening back up in his seat, and making small-talk with their new acquaintance while they wait for the panel to begin.
Chanyeol leaves his hand on Jongin’s thigh, unable to shake the grin off his face. Suddenly, he’s not feeling so cold anymore.
>>read #8 here!
note: these were really a lot of fun so i hope you enjoyed even one!! \o/
and seriously makoharu is an anime chankai okay i just hAD TO THE COSPLAY PROMPT WAS ASKING FOR IT
anyway thank you very much for reading~~( ˘ ³˘)❤
/goes back to crying about dumb football exo
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