k-pop; not for the world
Title: Not for the world
Pairing: Baekhyun/Jongdae/Kyungsoo
Rating: PG
Summary: Baekhyun and Jongdae might be loud and drive Kyungsoo crazy but somehow he’s more than okay with that.
Author’s Note: AU. 2406 words. i had some feelings the other day on twitter and certain people were very encouraging so here we are! :D
The apartment smells like garlic when Kyungsoo finally steps in, letting the door shut behind him as he steps out of his shoes. His stomach growls at him, enticed by the scent of whatever is cooking in the kitchen, and Kyungsoo pats it gently through the fabric of his white dress-shirt. Maybe some food will reenergize him. It’s been a long, grueling day and he’s surprised he didn’t pass out in the elevator coming up to the sixth floor.
In the kitchen he finds Jongdae, pasta boiling in a large pot on the stove and chicken frying off in a pan. He’s wearing that ridiculous pink, frilly apron Baekhyun bought him for his birthday three years ago and softly humming under his breath as he pokes around in the fridge. A small smile tugs at the corner of Kyungsoo’s lips as he watches him, quietly setting his work bag onto a stool at the counter and waits for Jongdae to turn around. When he does, he’s so startled to find Kyungsoo there he yelps and drops the block of parmesan onto the floor and Kyungsoo’s laugh fills up the room as he winds around the counter.
“Jesus,” Jongdae says, placing a hand over his heart and looking torn between kicking Kyungsoo and picking up the cheese to throw it at him. He does neither though, just pouts and gripes, “Say something if you’re there, fuck.”
“I’m home?” Kyungsoo offers, smirking, and Jongdae narrows his eyes for a moment before he laughs, reaches out to grab the front of Kyungsoo’s shirt and yanks him into a kiss. It starts off a little rough but gets much more gentle as Jongdae’s annoyance melts away, and when he pulls back he’s smiling one of those fond smiles of his that even now makes Kyungsoo a little weak. “Where’s Baekhyun?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, and glancing around the kitchen. Baekhyun’s the least proficient in the kitchen so they usually try to keep him away, but still he usually takes up space at the counter, chatting incessantly and stealing food, like a yippy puppy that’s always underfoot.
“Napping,” Jongdae says, finally grabbing the packaged cheese from the floor and returning to the stove. “Go wake him up will you? We should be able to eat soon.”
Kyungsoo nods and wanders out of the kitchen to find where Baekhyun has passed out. Their bedroom is empty, the bed a mess which only makes Kyungsoo frown and itch to clean up, but he turns away and opens the door to the second bedroom, which they’d converted into a little studio after moving in five years ago. Kyungsoo doesn’t spend as much time in here as he used to, now that he’s found a different job as a financial consultant at a law firm, and he leaves the freelance music-making to Baekhyun, who’s always been better at it anyway.
Baekhyun is passed out on the small futon they’d shoved into the room the year before, after too many years of falling asleep over the keyboard or on the desk. He’s still got his large, clunky headphones over his ears, the long cord stretching up to the laptop where it’s playing an unnamed track. Must be something he’s working on in-between his marketing job. Kyungsoo’s work leaves him plenty tired, but Baekhyun, when he gets an offer to write music from one of the few corporations he’s listed with, always tends to look a little more run down.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo says quietly, crouching down at the end of the futon by Baekhyun’s face. He gently pushes back Baekhyun’s bangs, his hair a soft pink now; he’s been having way too much fun experimenting recently and leaving colored stains all over their bathroom. “Baekhyun, wake up, or I’m gonna blast the volume and you’ll go deaf.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Baekhyun mumbles without even opening his eyes, surprising Kyungsoo because he was certain he was asleep. “I make money with these ears.”
“Is that why they’re so big?” Kyungsoo asks, smiling as he pushes aside one end of the headphones to tug on Baekhyun’s ear. Baekhyun flaps a hand at him, finally peering his eyes open, and a grin is stretching across this pretty face. “Come on, sleepyhead. It’s time to eat.”
But Baekhyun easily grabs Kyungsoo’s hand and yanks him right back down when he tries to stand, pulling him into the futon, too. Kyungsoo, helpless to the sudden attack, finds himself sprawled right on top of Baekhyun because there’s really no extra room on the futon for him at all, and he groans as he struggles to get off. “You’re warm,” Baekhyun says in a happy voice, arms winding around Kyungsoo’s back, and Kyungsoo realizes he has two options: punch Baekhyun in the face and scramble off while he’s whining in pain, or to let Baekhyun hold him like this, because, well, it’s not really all that bad.
Somehow the latter wins out and Kyungsoo can feel Baekhyun’s triumphant grin against his skin as he relaxes, pressing his face into the crook of Baekhyun’s neck. “What have you been working on?” Kyungsoo asks after a few minutes of silence, and, after a little shuffling, feels the weight of the headphones around his own head. A slow, soft piano ballad that fills up Kyungsoo’s ears, and he closes his eyes, melts into it, as Baekhyun’s voice joins in on the melody after a few seconds. Kyungsoo’s reminded of cold winter nights huddled close to Baekhyun and Jongdae as they try to sleep, that day this past summer when they’d gotten caught in the rain and left soppy, wet tracks down the hallway and Baekhyun sang Singing in the Rain loudly in the steaming shower, Sunday mornings when Jongdae wakes him with a kiss and Baekhyun’s kissing him, too, but under the covers, up along Kyungsoo’s thigh.
This, Kyungsoo thinks, as he lifts up to look into Baekhyun’s waiting, uncertain face, is way more invigorating than food. He’s not sure how to explain it, so he kisses Baekhyun instead, swallows his little gasp and sinks his fingers into Baekhyun’s hair. Baekhyun gives back easily, licking into Kyungsoo’s mouth with a sort of languidness that he doesn’t usually possess while making out, but that Kyungsoo appreciates, especially now as the music plays on undaunted through the headphones, curling and winding like a warm, comfortable blanket, just as Baekhyun curls his long fingers around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck.
“Hey,” cuts through Jongdae’s voice, and Baekhyun whines when Kyungsoo pulls away, startled by the intrusion. “Who said you guys could just make out and cuddle while I’m slaving away trying to feed you?”
“Kyungsoo started it,” Baekhyun says quickly, childishly, as if he’s one of Jongdae’s kindergarten students getting caught doing something bad.
Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo sits up between Baekhyun’s legs and pinches one of his nipples through his shirt just to hear him squeal. “Sorry,” he says as he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “Do you still need help?”
Jongdae shakes his head as he walks over to them, easily sliding a hand around Kyungsoo’s shoulder, patting his arm. “It’s good to go,” he says. “Baekhyun, go set the table.”
“Why me?” Baekhyun demands instantly, wriggling unhappily underneath Kyungsoo.
“Because you’ve literally done nothing,” Jongdae says, tweaking Baekhyun’s nose and laughing as he swats his hands back at him.
“I’ve been working,” Baekhyun sniffs, pointing to his computer as if that proves it and that he wasn’t just lying here, passed out, until Kyungsoo came to check on him. “But fine, I’ll do it, because I’m nice like that.”
Jongdae and Kyungsoo share a look, then burst out laughing as Baekhyun tries and fails to look annoyed at them for making fun of him. Jongdae helps Kyungsoo off the futon, untangles him and Baekhyun from the headphone cord that’s gotten wound up in knots in that magical way all cords seem to do, and asks, as he neatly sets the headphones onto the desk, “What were you listening to?”
Kyungsoo has no idea, so he looks at Baekhyun who has rolled himself off the futon and is slowly picking himself off the floor. “Ah, that untitled one I had you listen to when you got home,” Baekhyun says. He stretches his arms over his head, his legs out against the carpet, and smirks up at Kyungsoo when he catches him eyeing the pale strip of his stomach where his shirt has ridden up. “What’d you think?”
Kyungsoo shrugs, stepping on Baekhyun’s foot as he leaves the room. “I’ve heard better,” he says, grinning at himself as Baekhyun yells indignantly after him. His voice bounces off the walls. Kyungsoo once, maybe, thought he couldn’t handle that, but now he can’t imagine life without it. Baekhyun’s noisiness, Jongdae’s affection. Baekhyun’s comforting touches, Jongdae’s bright laughter. There’s a lot about the two of them, the three of them together, that Kyungsoo worried about in the beginning, still does sometimes, but mostly it’s just right, how they fit together.
He can still hear Baekhyun and Jongdae bickering down the hall as he strips out of his work clothes and pulls on the first t-shirt he finds in the closet. It’s one of Baekhyun’s, a little too big on Kyungsoo but comfortable enough despite the crude image on the front. He puts his clothes away properly, still doing his best to ignore the mess that is their bed, and washes up in the bathroom before heading back to the kitchen.
Baekhyun has set the table, a little haphazardly, but at least nothing is broken, and Jongdae’s setting down a large plate of chicken pasta. “This looks great, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says as he picks up the salad bowl from the counter and brings it over, too. Jongdae beams at him, patting Kyungsoo’s ass as he passes to get them drinks.
The three of them together, it’s almost always loud. Baekhyun plants himself right in Jongdae’s lap when they settle down to eat and Jongdae makes a comment about Baekhyun needing to do more sit ups, and Baekhyun shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth in retaliation. “I do plenty of sit ups, thank you very much,” he says.
“And yet you still complain about having nutella-abs,” Kyungsoo says, quirking a brow at him as he lathers his salad in ranch dressing.
“I’m fine with my nutella-abs,” Baekhyun says, waving his fork around as he speaks. “You guys seem to enjoy it just as much, too.” He leers at Kyungsoo as he stabs a piece of chicken off Jongdae’s plate and pops it into his mouth.
“It does make a great pillow,” Jongdae says thoughtfully, and laughs when Baekhyun gently nudges him with an elbow. He pats Baekhyun’s thigh, easily eats around him because Baekhyun always says how he finds their laps way more comfortable than the chairs, and when Baekhyun opens his mouth expectantly, waiting to be fed, Jongdae complies without question. He does shoot an exasperated glance at Kyungsoo though, who only smirks back bemusedly around his own mouthful of food. “Next time, he’s yours.”
“Next time we can just leave him to sleep and enjoy a nice dinner ourselves,” Kyungsoo offers and Jongdae readily agrees, reaching out a hand to shake Kyungsoo’s in finality.
“I want a divorce,” Baekhyun says loudly, glaring between the two of them, and as Jongdae laughs, Kyungsoo slides his foot teasingly up Baekhyun’s ankle under the table.
“No, you don’t,” he says lowly, and Baekhyun’s gaze sharpens, his eyes dragging up Kyungsoo’s bare thighs, taking in how he’s dressed in Baekhyun’ shirt, collarbones peeking out just barely.
“God, guys, leave it until after we eat, please?” Jongdae says. He throws a carrot at Kyungsoo’s face and the spell breaks, Baekhyun cackling as Kyungsoo reaches out to swipe at Jongdae, who only starts laughing, too, chair screeching under his and Baekhyun’s combined weight as he scurries back from Kyungsoo’s attacking hands.
“Get--off,” Jongdae wheezes just as Baekhyun scrambles away, the sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls and only barely masking the low groan Jongdae lets out as Kyungsoo punches his shoulder. A smile pulls at Kyungsoo’s lips, rubbing Jongdae’s shoulder soothingly as he pouts, and smooths his hand up his shoulder to cup the back of his neck as he leans down to kiss him.
Kyungsoo pulls back when Baekhyun says, “Don’t make me throw food at you, too,” and he’s holding a piece of chicken between his fingers, squinting at them as if trying to decide the perfect target.
“Did you want a kiss, Baekhyun?” Jongdae coos, and before Baekhyun even has a chance to petulantly deny it, Jongdae’s darting out of his seat and giving chase, easily backing Baekhyun up against the fridge to drop a teasing kiss on his nose.
Kyungsoo settles back into his seat and shakes his head at them, even though he can’t stop smiling. He picks up his plate and props his feet up onto Jongdae’s now vacated chair, watches as Jongdae’s little kisses escalate into Baekhyun blatantly groping his ass, Jongdae’s laugh barely muffled into his shoulder until he finally tears himself away, swatting at Baekhyun’s chest. “Will we ever have a nice, quiet dinner?” he asks, trying to sound more long-suffering than he really is.
Jongdae pushes Kyungsoo’s feet off his chair to sit back down and Baekhyun perches on the edge of the table, plucking another piece of chicken off Jongdae’s plate. “Would you really want that?” he fires back, popping the chicken into his mouth and quirking a brow expectantly.
“Admit it,” Jongdae adds, nudges his feet against Kyungsoo’s under the table. “You wouldn’t trade this for the world.”
“I’ll never admit that,” Kyungsoo says, but he doesn’t have to. Looking between the two of them, the knowing smiles on their faces, the unbidden one stretching across his, it’s more than obvious, it’s a given. It’s all the years they’ve spent together, the arguments they’ve grown from, the uncertainties they’ve conquered, it’s the affectionate kisses Jongdae wakes them up with in the mornings and the constant positivity that Baekhyun fills up their home with, the right amount of seriousness that Kyungsoo brings to balance them all out.
So even as they continue heckling him, bickering and throwing more food around and teasing him about it, what Jongdae said is right. Kyungsoo wouldn’t trade this for anything.
note: i’ve just been really interested in writing more poly relationships and baekchensoo is lovely so, i hope you enjoyed this little thing! ❤
come say hi on twitter | ask.fm | tumblr/fic tumblr
Pairing: Baekhyun/Jongdae/Kyungsoo
Rating: PG
Summary: Baekhyun and Jongdae might be loud and drive Kyungsoo crazy but somehow he’s more than okay with that.
Author’s Note: AU. 2406 words. i had some feelings the other day on twitter and certain people were very encouraging so here we are! :D
The apartment smells like garlic when Kyungsoo finally steps in, letting the door shut behind him as he steps out of his shoes. His stomach growls at him, enticed by the scent of whatever is cooking in the kitchen, and Kyungsoo pats it gently through the fabric of his white dress-shirt. Maybe some food will reenergize him. It’s been a long, grueling day and he’s surprised he didn’t pass out in the elevator coming up to the sixth floor.
In the kitchen he finds Jongdae, pasta boiling in a large pot on the stove and chicken frying off in a pan. He’s wearing that ridiculous pink, frilly apron Baekhyun bought him for his birthday three years ago and softly humming under his breath as he pokes around in the fridge. A small smile tugs at the corner of Kyungsoo’s lips as he watches him, quietly setting his work bag onto a stool at the counter and waits for Jongdae to turn around. When he does, he’s so startled to find Kyungsoo there he yelps and drops the block of parmesan onto the floor and Kyungsoo’s laugh fills up the room as he winds around the counter.
“Jesus,” Jongdae says, placing a hand over his heart and looking torn between kicking Kyungsoo and picking up the cheese to throw it at him. He does neither though, just pouts and gripes, “Say something if you’re there, fuck.”
“I’m home?” Kyungsoo offers, smirking, and Jongdae narrows his eyes for a moment before he laughs, reaches out to grab the front of Kyungsoo’s shirt and yanks him into a kiss. It starts off a little rough but gets much more gentle as Jongdae’s annoyance melts away, and when he pulls back he’s smiling one of those fond smiles of his that even now makes Kyungsoo a little weak. “Where’s Baekhyun?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, and glancing around the kitchen. Baekhyun’s the least proficient in the kitchen so they usually try to keep him away, but still he usually takes up space at the counter, chatting incessantly and stealing food, like a yippy puppy that’s always underfoot.
“Napping,” Jongdae says, finally grabbing the packaged cheese from the floor and returning to the stove. “Go wake him up will you? We should be able to eat soon.”
Kyungsoo nods and wanders out of the kitchen to find where Baekhyun has passed out. Their bedroom is empty, the bed a mess which only makes Kyungsoo frown and itch to clean up, but he turns away and opens the door to the second bedroom, which they’d converted into a little studio after moving in five years ago. Kyungsoo doesn’t spend as much time in here as he used to, now that he’s found a different job as a financial consultant at a law firm, and he leaves the freelance music-making to Baekhyun, who’s always been better at it anyway.
Baekhyun is passed out on the small futon they’d shoved into the room the year before, after too many years of falling asleep over the keyboard or on the desk. He’s still got his large, clunky headphones over his ears, the long cord stretching up to the laptop where it’s playing an unnamed track. Must be something he’s working on in-between his marketing job. Kyungsoo’s work leaves him plenty tired, but Baekhyun, when he gets an offer to write music from one of the few corporations he’s listed with, always tends to look a little more run down.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo says quietly, crouching down at the end of the futon by Baekhyun’s face. He gently pushes back Baekhyun’s bangs, his hair a soft pink now; he’s been having way too much fun experimenting recently and leaving colored stains all over their bathroom. “Baekhyun, wake up, or I’m gonna blast the volume and you’ll go deaf.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Baekhyun mumbles without even opening his eyes, surprising Kyungsoo because he was certain he was asleep. “I make money with these ears.”
“Is that why they’re so big?” Kyungsoo asks, smiling as he pushes aside one end of the headphones to tug on Baekhyun’s ear. Baekhyun flaps a hand at him, finally peering his eyes open, and a grin is stretching across this pretty face. “Come on, sleepyhead. It’s time to eat.”
But Baekhyun easily grabs Kyungsoo’s hand and yanks him right back down when he tries to stand, pulling him into the futon, too. Kyungsoo, helpless to the sudden attack, finds himself sprawled right on top of Baekhyun because there’s really no extra room on the futon for him at all, and he groans as he struggles to get off. “You’re warm,” Baekhyun says in a happy voice, arms winding around Kyungsoo’s back, and Kyungsoo realizes he has two options: punch Baekhyun in the face and scramble off while he’s whining in pain, or to let Baekhyun hold him like this, because, well, it’s not really all that bad.
Somehow the latter wins out and Kyungsoo can feel Baekhyun’s triumphant grin against his skin as he relaxes, pressing his face into the crook of Baekhyun’s neck. “What have you been working on?” Kyungsoo asks after a few minutes of silence, and, after a little shuffling, feels the weight of the headphones around his own head. A slow, soft piano ballad that fills up Kyungsoo’s ears, and he closes his eyes, melts into it, as Baekhyun’s voice joins in on the melody after a few seconds. Kyungsoo’s reminded of cold winter nights huddled close to Baekhyun and Jongdae as they try to sleep, that day this past summer when they’d gotten caught in the rain and left soppy, wet tracks down the hallway and Baekhyun sang Singing in the Rain loudly in the steaming shower, Sunday mornings when Jongdae wakes him with a kiss and Baekhyun’s kissing him, too, but under the covers, up along Kyungsoo’s thigh.
This, Kyungsoo thinks, as he lifts up to look into Baekhyun’s waiting, uncertain face, is way more invigorating than food. He’s not sure how to explain it, so he kisses Baekhyun instead, swallows his little gasp and sinks his fingers into Baekhyun’s hair. Baekhyun gives back easily, licking into Kyungsoo’s mouth with a sort of languidness that he doesn’t usually possess while making out, but that Kyungsoo appreciates, especially now as the music plays on undaunted through the headphones, curling and winding like a warm, comfortable blanket, just as Baekhyun curls his long fingers around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck.
“Hey,” cuts through Jongdae’s voice, and Baekhyun whines when Kyungsoo pulls away, startled by the intrusion. “Who said you guys could just make out and cuddle while I’m slaving away trying to feed you?”
“Kyungsoo started it,” Baekhyun says quickly, childishly, as if he’s one of Jongdae’s kindergarten students getting caught doing something bad.
Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo sits up between Baekhyun’s legs and pinches one of his nipples through his shirt just to hear him squeal. “Sorry,” he says as he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “Do you still need help?”
Jongdae shakes his head as he walks over to them, easily sliding a hand around Kyungsoo’s shoulder, patting his arm. “It’s good to go,” he says. “Baekhyun, go set the table.”
“Why me?” Baekhyun demands instantly, wriggling unhappily underneath Kyungsoo.
“Because you’ve literally done nothing,” Jongdae says, tweaking Baekhyun’s nose and laughing as he swats his hands back at him.
“I’ve been working,” Baekhyun sniffs, pointing to his computer as if that proves it and that he wasn’t just lying here, passed out, until Kyungsoo came to check on him. “But fine, I’ll do it, because I’m nice like that.”
Jongdae and Kyungsoo share a look, then burst out laughing as Baekhyun tries and fails to look annoyed at them for making fun of him. Jongdae helps Kyungsoo off the futon, untangles him and Baekhyun from the headphone cord that’s gotten wound up in knots in that magical way all cords seem to do, and asks, as he neatly sets the headphones onto the desk, “What were you listening to?”
Kyungsoo has no idea, so he looks at Baekhyun who has rolled himself off the futon and is slowly picking himself off the floor. “Ah, that untitled one I had you listen to when you got home,” Baekhyun says. He stretches his arms over his head, his legs out against the carpet, and smirks up at Kyungsoo when he catches him eyeing the pale strip of his stomach where his shirt has ridden up. “What’d you think?”
Kyungsoo shrugs, stepping on Baekhyun’s foot as he leaves the room. “I’ve heard better,” he says, grinning at himself as Baekhyun yells indignantly after him. His voice bounces off the walls. Kyungsoo once, maybe, thought he couldn’t handle that, but now he can’t imagine life without it. Baekhyun’s noisiness, Jongdae’s affection. Baekhyun’s comforting touches, Jongdae’s bright laughter. There’s a lot about the two of them, the three of them together, that Kyungsoo worried about in the beginning, still does sometimes, but mostly it’s just right, how they fit together.
He can still hear Baekhyun and Jongdae bickering down the hall as he strips out of his work clothes and pulls on the first t-shirt he finds in the closet. It’s one of Baekhyun’s, a little too big on Kyungsoo but comfortable enough despite the crude image on the front. He puts his clothes away properly, still doing his best to ignore the mess that is their bed, and washes up in the bathroom before heading back to the kitchen.
Baekhyun has set the table, a little haphazardly, but at least nothing is broken, and Jongdae’s setting down a large plate of chicken pasta. “This looks great, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says as he picks up the salad bowl from the counter and brings it over, too. Jongdae beams at him, patting Kyungsoo’s ass as he passes to get them drinks.
The three of them together, it’s almost always loud. Baekhyun plants himself right in Jongdae’s lap when they settle down to eat and Jongdae makes a comment about Baekhyun needing to do more sit ups, and Baekhyun shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth in retaliation. “I do plenty of sit ups, thank you very much,” he says.
“And yet you still complain about having nutella-abs,” Kyungsoo says, quirking a brow at him as he lathers his salad in ranch dressing.
“I’m fine with my nutella-abs,” Baekhyun says, waving his fork around as he speaks. “You guys seem to enjoy it just as much, too.” He leers at Kyungsoo as he stabs a piece of chicken off Jongdae’s plate and pops it into his mouth.
“It does make a great pillow,” Jongdae says thoughtfully, and laughs when Baekhyun gently nudges him with an elbow. He pats Baekhyun’s thigh, easily eats around him because Baekhyun always says how he finds their laps way more comfortable than the chairs, and when Baekhyun opens his mouth expectantly, waiting to be fed, Jongdae complies without question. He does shoot an exasperated glance at Kyungsoo though, who only smirks back bemusedly around his own mouthful of food. “Next time, he’s yours.”
“Next time we can just leave him to sleep and enjoy a nice dinner ourselves,” Kyungsoo offers and Jongdae readily agrees, reaching out a hand to shake Kyungsoo’s in finality.
“I want a divorce,” Baekhyun says loudly, glaring between the two of them, and as Jongdae laughs, Kyungsoo slides his foot teasingly up Baekhyun’s ankle under the table.
“No, you don’t,” he says lowly, and Baekhyun’s gaze sharpens, his eyes dragging up Kyungsoo’s bare thighs, taking in how he’s dressed in Baekhyun’ shirt, collarbones peeking out just barely.
“God, guys, leave it until after we eat, please?” Jongdae says. He throws a carrot at Kyungsoo’s face and the spell breaks, Baekhyun cackling as Kyungsoo reaches out to swipe at Jongdae, who only starts laughing, too, chair screeching under his and Baekhyun’s combined weight as he scurries back from Kyungsoo’s attacking hands.
“Get--off,” Jongdae wheezes just as Baekhyun scrambles away, the sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls and only barely masking the low groan Jongdae lets out as Kyungsoo punches his shoulder. A smile pulls at Kyungsoo’s lips, rubbing Jongdae’s shoulder soothingly as he pouts, and smooths his hand up his shoulder to cup the back of his neck as he leans down to kiss him.
Kyungsoo pulls back when Baekhyun says, “Don’t make me throw food at you, too,” and he’s holding a piece of chicken between his fingers, squinting at them as if trying to decide the perfect target.
“Did you want a kiss, Baekhyun?” Jongdae coos, and before Baekhyun even has a chance to petulantly deny it, Jongdae’s darting out of his seat and giving chase, easily backing Baekhyun up against the fridge to drop a teasing kiss on his nose.
Kyungsoo settles back into his seat and shakes his head at them, even though he can’t stop smiling. He picks up his plate and props his feet up onto Jongdae’s now vacated chair, watches as Jongdae’s little kisses escalate into Baekhyun blatantly groping his ass, Jongdae’s laugh barely muffled into his shoulder until he finally tears himself away, swatting at Baekhyun’s chest. “Will we ever have a nice, quiet dinner?” he asks, trying to sound more long-suffering than he really is.
Jongdae pushes Kyungsoo’s feet off his chair to sit back down and Baekhyun perches on the edge of the table, plucking another piece of chicken off Jongdae’s plate. “Would you really want that?” he fires back, popping the chicken into his mouth and quirking a brow expectantly.
“Admit it,” Jongdae adds, nudges his feet against Kyungsoo’s under the table. “You wouldn’t trade this for the world.”
“I’ll never admit that,” Kyungsoo says, but he doesn’t have to. Looking between the two of them, the knowing smiles on their faces, the unbidden one stretching across his, it’s more than obvious, it’s a given. It’s all the years they’ve spent together, the arguments they’ve grown from, the uncertainties they’ve conquered, it’s the affectionate kisses Jongdae wakes them up with in the mornings and the constant positivity that Baekhyun fills up their home with, the right amount of seriousness that Kyungsoo brings to balance them all out.
So even as they continue heckling him, bickering and throwing more food around and teasing him about it, what Jongdae said is right. Kyungsoo wouldn’t trade this for anything.
note: i’ve just been really interested in writing more poly relationships and baekchensoo is lovely so, i hope you enjoyed this little thing! ❤
come say hi on twitter | ask.fm | tumblr/fic tumblr