Secretly
❇ Title: Secretly for strawbaekrries
❇ Pairing: Kai/Baekhyun
❇ Rating: PG-13
❇ Length: 2,600 words
❇ Warnings: N/A
❇ Author note: N/A
❇ Summary: All Jongin wants is to see his husband in one of his shirts. Baekhyun refuses.
Jongin is blissfully warm, cocooned under a fluffy comforter which he's pulled over his head to avoid the sunlight streaming through the curtains. His pillow has the perfect face shaped groove and he lets out a soft sigh, trying to hold tight to the last remnants of sleep clinging to his foggy mind.
There's movement in the room, the rustling of clothing and the following clatter of something dragging over the surface of the dresser. It's a familiar soundtrack that plays each morning and Jongin lets it gently pull him into an almost awake state.
The covers are ripped off Jongin only moments later and he yelps, trying to grab at the comforter as his mostly naked body is assaulted by the colder air. He manages to get part of it wrapped around his leg and holds fast, petulantly fighting the attempt to wrestle it away from him. He deems it a victory when the blankets go lax.
That victory is short-lived.
A pair of cold feet press against Jongin's side and push with force. Jongin finds himself rolling dangerously close to the edge of the bed.
"Get up, you lazy ass." Baekhyun's voice cuts through Jongin's sleep-addled brain like a razor - sharp and unforgivably deep.
Jongin cracks his eyes open just enough to see his husband standing back up, already dressed for work. Baekhyun's white button-up is fitted, pulled across his shoulders and Jongin knows that when Baekhyun stretches his arms behind his back - as he's prone to do a lot the first few hours after he wakes - the button holes will pull tight and the fabric will mold to the slight definition of his chest. He also know that Baekhyun's slacks are on the cusp of too tight around his thighs and butt, but that's because he's shameless about his assets. It's one of the things that drew Jongin to him in the first place.
"Don't make me sit on you," Baekhyun threatens, tossing a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.
Jongin grins to himself, leaning up on one elbow to peer at Baekhyun's behind before he turns, tucking his shirt in. "If you sat on me, neither of us would make it to work on time."
He's pleased to note the pink that invades Baekhyun's cheeks and the smile that teases around his lips. When Baekhyun reaches out to knock his hand against the side of Jongin’s head affectionately, the sunlight catches on the gold band around his finger. Jongin grabs at him, gaining a loose hold on Baekhyun’s wrist so he can kiss his palm before letting go.
“I’m up,” Jongin mumbles, scratching through his hair. He’s still getting used to the coarseness that accompanied bleaching his normally black strands blond, but he’s a pushover when it comes to Baekhyun and he’d allowed his husband to decide the fate of his hair.
(It definitely didn’t hurt that after he’d gotten it done, Baekhyun would get this look on his face - the swell of his bottom lip in his teeth, his eyes half-lidded and fixed on Jongin’s hair - that meant one of them was about to get hoisted onto the nearest surface to make out like hormonal teenagers. The amount of action Jongin’s gotten from bleaching his hair almost rivals their honeymoon.)
It’s a normal morning for the pair. Baekhyun keeps tapping Jongin on the butt each time he walks past in an effort to get Jongin to stop shuffling and put a little energy into his morning routine. And Jongin drapes himself over Baekhyun’s back with his chin resting on his husband’s shoulder as Baekhyun gives him an exasperated sigh and adds an extra spoonful of sugar to his own coffee to suit Jongin’s tastes.
It’s usually quiet, the two of them speaking in hushed tones if they speak at all. Baekhyun has this way about him, this boisterous, attention-grabbing voice that calls to people, but right here, right now with his legs draped over Jongin’s thighs as they sip down their shared cup of coffee, he’s quiet and soft. Baekhyun doesn’t need any of that to earn Jongin’s attention; he’s had it since the day they met.
“You’re going to be late,” Jongin whispers, tapping his nail on the time displayed on the screen of Baekhyun’s phone. He gets a low groan in response and the press of Baekhyun’s lips on his temple as he begins unfolding himself to put on his shoes. Jongin pulls him in for a better kiss before Baekhyun can get out the door - one that leaves Baekhyun grinning and Jongin blushing because Baekhyun doesn’t know when it’s not appropriate to have wandering hands.
It’s the last quiet moment of Jongin’s day.
Jongin loves his job, he really does, but after chasing around dogs - and Chanyeol - all day, he’s exhausted by the time he gets home. He also smells like he rolled around in something dead. The first thing he does each evening when he finally gets his shoes off, is to walk down the hall to the bathroom. His clothes come off along the way, shirt pulled over his head and pants dropping to his ankles before he kicks out of them.
A hot shower is the only cure for the odor wafting off him and to ease the ache in his waist from an old high school injury that likes to act up every now and again. He’d borne the brunt of Chanyeol tripping over nothing and knocking them both to the floor earlier and now he has the flourishings of a darkening bruise on his left hip bone.
Baekhyun always showers in the mornings so Jongin is free to use up all the hot water and he does, letting it run lukewarm before stepping out with a towel around his waist. He picks up his clothes from the floor on the way to his room, dropping them in the hamper by the closet before pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of cotton pants.
His muscles are loose, his steps languid and Jongin miraculously manages to not crash on the couch for a nap. A glance at the clock lets Jongin know that Baekhyun will be home in less than an hour so he decides dinner is in order. Out of the two of them, Jongin’s the one who hasn’t nearly burnt down the kitchen (twice) so all cooking falls to him, but he doesn’t mind.
Baekhyun gets home just in time. He stops off in the kitchen to wrap his arms around Jongin from behind and squeeze tight before heading to their room to change. Baekhyun may enjoy teasing everyone around him in his work attire, but at home he’s a slob.
When Baekhyun re-emerges, settling himself down at their small kitchen table to dig in, he’s in a ratty pair of boxers and a shirt that’s bordering on too small, the hem unraveling in a few places and holes in the armpits. He’s clearly run his hands through his hair, the strands sticking up in all directions.
The sudden image of Baekhyun sitting across from him, leaning over the table and wearing something more flattering, something that cuts wide down the front and reveals his chest when he bends forward assaults Jongin and he freezes in place.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Baekhyun sing-songs and Jongin feels the blush crawling into his cheeks.
It’s an old conversation. Jongin had made the mistake once - once - of voicing aloud his desire to see Baekhyun walking around in nothing save for one of his shirts. Baekhyun’s frame is slight, small enough that all of Jongin’s shirts would hang off him, the collar wide and hem low enough to hit mid-thigh. Jongin wants to watch Baekhyun bend over in it, raise onto his toes to reach for something on the top shelf, settle on his lap and kiss him, all while wrapped up in something that is Jongin’s. It’s childish and possessive and Baekhyun loves to rag on him about it.
“No you don’t,” Jongin grumbles in response, frowning as he starts scooping food onto his plate.
Baekhyun snorts and Jongin’s eyes flick up to see the smirk on his face. “You’re so easy to read.”
Jongin ignores Baekhyun in lieu of stuffing his face, refusing to look at his husband who probably still has a smug smile on his stupid face. It’s not fair that he’s managed to learn the manual to Jongin’s mind inside and out. Jongin is sorely tempted to throw out all of Baekhyun’s clothes in retaliation.
He thinks about it a lot - Baekhyun strutting around in just his shirt. Jongin can look at his husband and the reality is replaced with fantasy. It’s not that Jongin can’t control himself; he'd gotten over those hormonal teenage urges years ago, but there’s something in Baekhyun that brings out this side in him. Jongin’s always wanted to leave his mark on Baekhyun, to put something so blatantly bold on him that the world takes notice that Baekhyun is his.
It used to be hickeys and love bites scattered over Baekhyun’s sensitive neck and chest and thighs, but they'd outgrown that stage together. And now it’s manifesting in a new way. Jongin knows the wedding band on Baekhyun’s finger should be enough and yet he can’t help himself, can’t bring himself to stop fantasizing about such a silly thing.
“You’ve seen me naked, Jongin. I’m not going to indulge one of your high school fantasies now that I’ve got you by the short hairs,” Baekhyun had said when Jongin had confessed to it. He’d been caught staring, damn near drooling and he’d blurted out the truth before realizing what he’d done.
But that certainly hadn’t put a stop to the idea. In fact, the more Baekhyun disregards Jongin’s solitary fantasy to see him strutting around in something that’s his, the more Jongin wants it. He takes a mental inventory of his closet, perusing through his collection of shirts - pop culture t-shirts, tank tops, the row of formerly-white-and-now-pink workout shirts Baekhyun had accidentally (on purpose) tossed in the washing machine with his new bright red jeans - and wonders what would look best on his adorable husband.
There are too many choices and Jongin usually just settles for knowing that Baekhyun would look good in anything and the thought kills him.
It’s a rare day when Jongin can knock off early and head out. With only one morning class and the afternoon one empty after a few cancellations, Jongin is free to go. He’s excited to get home, knowing that Baekhyun has the day off and they can spend some quality time together. Jongin had left Baekhyun in a lump under the comforter this morning, Baekhyun sprawling out to cover both sides of the bed by the time Jongin had dressed.
And now he can maybe convince Baekhyun that going back to bed for a few hours is a great idea.
At least that’s the plan until Jongin gets home, his shoes off and keys hung on the hook by the door. Of all the things Jongin expects Baekhyun to be doing - erasing Jongin’s high score off Mario Kart, rearranging the living room because it’s unbalanced, still passed out in a puddle of drool - seeing Baekhyun shaking his hips to the blaring music on the stereo while wearing one of Jongin’s button-ups hadn't even made the list.
It’s lavender - the top two buttons left undone so the fabric slides to the side to expose most of Baekhyun’s right shoulder. It’s also the same shirt Jongin had worn yesterday, still a bit wrinkled from spending the night in the laundry hamper and smelling of cologne instead of dog because Jongin had been in meetings all day.
It’s almost too good to be true and Jongin wonders if this is even real or if he’s just gotten really good at replacing reality with his preferred version.
Baekhyun is in mid spin when he notices Jongin, nearly jumping out of his skin with a noise of surprise, hand over his heart. “Jongin,” he says, but his voice is drowned out by the music. Baekhyun plucks the remote to the sound system from the couch and turns it off, the sudden silence nearly deafening.
Jongin is still frozen by the door and Baekhyun looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I wasn’t expecting you home,” Baekhyun states, hands running down his chest to smooth out the fabric and tug on the hem so it pulls more down his bare thighs.
"Slow day," Jongin croaks, his eyes feasting on the delectable image of his husband squirming under his scrutiny.
"I should probably go change," Baekhyun gets out in a rush, raising onto his toes and teetering forward before attempting to back away. Only he's stopped when Jongin takes several long strides and grabs him, an arm around Baekhyun's waist to pull him close.
There's an audible hitch in Baekhyun's breathing and Jongin can feel his heart fluttering rapidly, see the pink staining the tips of Baekhyun's ears from embarrassment. "Baekhyun," Jongin groans against the shell of Baekhyun's ear. He runs his mouth down the column of Baekhyun's neck, stopping only to press a light kiss on his bare shoulder. A soft noise dies in Baekhyun's throat and his hands come up to fist in the front of the t-shirt Jongin's wearing.
"Just kiss me already," Baekhyun commands, pushing closer to Jongin with arms around his neck now to draw him in.
Jongin grins against Baekhyun's shoulder, scraping his teeth up to where it meets his neck before kissing him just underneath his ear. "But I am kissing you," Jongin teases, smiling when he hears the annoyed huff he gets in response. For all his teasing, Baekhyun's always been impatient when the tables are turned.
Jongin fits his hands around Baekhyun's slender waist to hold him still when Baekhyun tries to pull away with a whine. The pitiful struggle Baekhyun puts up to extricate himself from Jongin’s hold is all bark and no bite. All he manages to do is squirm against Jongin’s front and entice him more.
“Jongin, if you don’t kiss me -”
The rest of Baekhyun’s empty threat is muffled by Jongin’s lips; the kiss is hard and demanding and Baekhyun melts under Jongin’s tongue, head tipping back with a low moan. He’s easy to guide, pliant in Jongin’s hands as he pushes, pushes, pushes until Baekhyun’s back is flat against the wall. Jongin runs his palms down, lets them caress over Baekhyun’s thighs before running back up and under the fabric of his shirt to get a firm grip.
Baekhyun gives a little hop to aid Jongin when he lifts him off the floor, legs around Jongin’s waist and fingers twisting in Jongin’s hair to keep himself steady.
“Baby,” Baekhyun moans, his voice cracking when Jongin rolls his hips forward hard.
Jongin answers with a low hum, distracted by the temptation to mark Baekhyun’s skin in reds and purples.
Baekhyun tugs on his hair to get Jongin’s attention and he looks up with dark eyes and raised eyebrows. “What?”
“You smell like dog.”
Jongin sighs and hefts Baekhyun’s weight in his arms for a better hold. “Don’t fall,” he instructs, pulling away from the wall to head down the hallway and to the bathroom.
“Jongin?” Baekhyun asks, peering back over his shoulder. “Yah, Jongin, where are you taking me?”
Jongin grins. “To shower.”
❇ Pairing: Kai/Baekhyun
❇ Rating: PG-13
❇ Length: 2,600 words
❇ Warnings: N/A
❇ Author note: N/A
❇ Summary: All Jongin wants is to see his husband in one of his shirts. Baekhyun refuses.
Jongin is blissfully warm, cocooned under a fluffy comforter which he's pulled over his head to avoid the sunlight streaming through the curtains. His pillow has the perfect face shaped groove and he lets out a soft sigh, trying to hold tight to the last remnants of sleep clinging to his foggy mind.
There's movement in the room, the rustling of clothing and the following clatter of something dragging over the surface of the dresser. It's a familiar soundtrack that plays each morning and Jongin lets it gently pull him into an almost awake state.
The covers are ripped off Jongin only moments later and he yelps, trying to grab at the comforter as his mostly naked body is assaulted by the colder air. He manages to get part of it wrapped around his leg and holds fast, petulantly fighting the attempt to wrestle it away from him. He deems it a victory when the blankets go lax.
That victory is short-lived.
A pair of cold feet press against Jongin's side and push with force. Jongin finds himself rolling dangerously close to the edge of the bed.
"Get up, you lazy ass." Baekhyun's voice cuts through Jongin's sleep-addled brain like a razor - sharp and unforgivably deep.
Jongin cracks his eyes open just enough to see his husband standing back up, already dressed for work. Baekhyun's white button-up is fitted, pulled across his shoulders and Jongin knows that when Baekhyun stretches his arms behind his back - as he's prone to do a lot the first few hours after he wakes - the button holes will pull tight and the fabric will mold to the slight definition of his chest. He also know that Baekhyun's slacks are on the cusp of too tight around his thighs and butt, but that's because he's shameless about his assets. It's one of the things that drew Jongin to him in the first place.
"Don't make me sit on you," Baekhyun threatens, tossing a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.
Jongin grins to himself, leaning up on one elbow to peer at Baekhyun's behind before he turns, tucking his shirt in. "If you sat on me, neither of us would make it to work on time."
He's pleased to note the pink that invades Baekhyun's cheeks and the smile that teases around his lips. When Baekhyun reaches out to knock his hand against the side of Jongin’s head affectionately, the sunlight catches on the gold band around his finger. Jongin grabs at him, gaining a loose hold on Baekhyun’s wrist so he can kiss his palm before letting go.
“I’m up,” Jongin mumbles, scratching through his hair. He’s still getting used to the coarseness that accompanied bleaching his normally black strands blond, but he’s a pushover when it comes to Baekhyun and he’d allowed his husband to decide the fate of his hair.
(It definitely didn’t hurt that after he’d gotten it done, Baekhyun would get this look on his face - the swell of his bottom lip in his teeth, his eyes half-lidded and fixed on Jongin’s hair - that meant one of them was about to get hoisted onto the nearest surface to make out like hormonal teenagers. The amount of action Jongin’s gotten from bleaching his hair almost rivals their honeymoon.)
It’s a normal morning for the pair. Baekhyun keeps tapping Jongin on the butt each time he walks past in an effort to get Jongin to stop shuffling and put a little energy into his morning routine. And Jongin drapes himself over Baekhyun’s back with his chin resting on his husband’s shoulder as Baekhyun gives him an exasperated sigh and adds an extra spoonful of sugar to his own coffee to suit Jongin’s tastes.
It’s usually quiet, the two of them speaking in hushed tones if they speak at all. Baekhyun has this way about him, this boisterous, attention-grabbing voice that calls to people, but right here, right now with his legs draped over Jongin’s thighs as they sip down their shared cup of coffee, he’s quiet and soft. Baekhyun doesn’t need any of that to earn Jongin’s attention; he’s had it since the day they met.
“You’re going to be late,” Jongin whispers, tapping his nail on the time displayed on the screen of Baekhyun’s phone. He gets a low groan in response and the press of Baekhyun’s lips on his temple as he begins unfolding himself to put on his shoes. Jongin pulls him in for a better kiss before Baekhyun can get out the door - one that leaves Baekhyun grinning and Jongin blushing because Baekhyun doesn’t know when it’s not appropriate to have wandering hands.
It’s the last quiet moment of Jongin’s day.
Jongin loves his job, he really does, but after chasing around dogs - and Chanyeol - all day, he’s exhausted by the time he gets home. He also smells like he rolled around in something dead. The first thing he does each evening when he finally gets his shoes off, is to walk down the hall to the bathroom. His clothes come off along the way, shirt pulled over his head and pants dropping to his ankles before he kicks out of them.
A hot shower is the only cure for the odor wafting off him and to ease the ache in his waist from an old high school injury that likes to act up every now and again. He’d borne the brunt of Chanyeol tripping over nothing and knocking them both to the floor earlier and now he has the flourishings of a darkening bruise on his left hip bone.
Baekhyun always showers in the mornings so Jongin is free to use up all the hot water and he does, letting it run lukewarm before stepping out with a towel around his waist. He picks up his clothes from the floor on the way to his room, dropping them in the hamper by the closet before pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of cotton pants.
His muscles are loose, his steps languid and Jongin miraculously manages to not crash on the couch for a nap. A glance at the clock lets Jongin know that Baekhyun will be home in less than an hour so he decides dinner is in order. Out of the two of them, Jongin’s the one who hasn’t nearly burnt down the kitchen (twice) so all cooking falls to him, but he doesn’t mind.
Baekhyun gets home just in time. He stops off in the kitchen to wrap his arms around Jongin from behind and squeeze tight before heading to their room to change. Baekhyun may enjoy teasing everyone around him in his work attire, but at home he’s a slob.
When Baekhyun re-emerges, settling himself down at their small kitchen table to dig in, he’s in a ratty pair of boxers and a shirt that’s bordering on too small, the hem unraveling in a few places and holes in the armpits. He’s clearly run his hands through his hair, the strands sticking up in all directions.
The sudden image of Baekhyun sitting across from him, leaning over the table and wearing something more flattering, something that cuts wide down the front and reveals his chest when he bends forward assaults Jongin and he freezes in place.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Baekhyun sing-songs and Jongin feels the blush crawling into his cheeks.
It’s an old conversation. Jongin had made the mistake once - once - of voicing aloud his desire to see Baekhyun walking around in nothing save for one of his shirts. Baekhyun’s frame is slight, small enough that all of Jongin’s shirts would hang off him, the collar wide and hem low enough to hit mid-thigh. Jongin wants to watch Baekhyun bend over in it, raise onto his toes to reach for something on the top shelf, settle on his lap and kiss him, all while wrapped up in something that is Jongin’s. It’s childish and possessive and Baekhyun loves to rag on him about it.
“No you don’t,” Jongin grumbles in response, frowning as he starts scooping food onto his plate.
Baekhyun snorts and Jongin’s eyes flick up to see the smirk on his face. “You’re so easy to read.”
Jongin ignores Baekhyun in lieu of stuffing his face, refusing to look at his husband who probably still has a smug smile on his stupid face. It’s not fair that he’s managed to learn the manual to Jongin’s mind inside and out. Jongin is sorely tempted to throw out all of Baekhyun’s clothes in retaliation.
He thinks about it a lot - Baekhyun strutting around in just his shirt. Jongin can look at his husband and the reality is replaced with fantasy. It’s not that Jongin can’t control himself; he'd gotten over those hormonal teenage urges years ago, but there’s something in Baekhyun that brings out this side in him. Jongin’s always wanted to leave his mark on Baekhyun, to put something so blatantly bold on him that the world takes notice that Baekhyun is his.
It used to be hickeys and love bites scattered over Baekhyun’s sensitive neck and chest and thighs, but they'd outgrown that stage together. And now it’s manifesting in a new way. Jongin knows the wedding band on Baekhyun’s finger should be enough and yet he can’t help himself, can’t bring himself to stop fantasizing about such a silly thing.
“You’ve seen me naked, Jongin. I’m not going to indulge one of your high school fantasies now that I’ve got you by the short hairs,” Baekhyun had said when Jongin had confessed to it. He’d been caught staring, damn near drooling and he’d blurted out the truth before realizing what he’d done.
But that certainly hadn’t put a stop to the idea. In fact, the more Baekhyun disregards Jongin’s solitary fantasy to see him strutting around in something that’s his, the more Jongin wants it. He takes a mental inventory of his closet, perusing through his collection of shirts - pop culture t-shirts, tank tops, the row of formerly-white-and-now-pink workout shirts Baekhyun had accidentally (on purpose) tossed in the washing machine with his new bright red jeans - and wonders what would look best on his adorable husband.
There are too many choices and Jongin usually just settles for knowing that Baekhyun would look good in anything and the thought kills him.
It’s a rare day when Jongin can knock off early and head out. With only one morning class and the afternoon one empty after a few cancellations, Jongin is free to go. He’s excited to get home, knowing that Baekhyun has the day off and they can spend some quality time together. Jongin had left Baekhyun in a lump under the comforter this morning, Baekhyun sprawling out to cover both sides of the bed by the time Jongin had dressed.
And now he can maybe convince Baekhyun that going back to bed for a few hours is a great idea.
At least that’s the plan until Jongin gets home, his shoes off and keys hung on the hook by the door. Of all the things Jongin expects Baekhyun to be doing - erasing Jongin’s high score off Mario Kart, rearranging the living room because it’s unbalanced, still passed out in a puddle of drool - seeing Baekhyun shaking his hips to the blaring music on the stereo while wearing one of Jongin’s button-ups hadn't even made the list.
It’s lavender - the top two buttons left undone so the fabric slides to the side to expose most of Baekhyun’s right shoulder. It’s also the same shirt Jongin had worn yesterday, still a bit wrinkled from spending the night in the laundry hamper and smelling of cologne instead of dog because Jongin had been in meetings all day.
It’s almost too good to be true and Jongin wonders if this is even real or if he’s just gotten really good at replacing reality with his preferred version.
Baekhyun is in mid spin when he notices Jongin, nearly jumping out of his skin with a noise of surprise, hand over his heart. “Jongin,” he says, but his voice is drowned out by the music. Baekhyun plucks the remote to the sound system from the couch and turns it off, the sudden silence nearly deafening.
Jongin is still frozen by the door and Baekhyun looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I wasn’t expecting you home,” Baekhyun states, hands running down his chest to smooth out the fabric and tug on the hem so it pulls more down his bare thighs.
"Slow day," Jongin croaks, his eyes feasting on the delectable image of his husband squirming under his scrutiny.
"I should probably go change," Baekhyun gets out in a rush, raising onto his toes and teetering forward before attempting to back away. Only he's stopped when Jongin takes several long strides and grabs him, an arm around Baekhyun's waist to pull him close.
There's an audible hitch in Baekhyun's breathing and Jongin can feel his heart fluttering rapidly, see the pink staining the tips of Baekhyun's ears from embarrassment. "Baekhyun," Jongin groans against the shell of Baekhyun's ear. He runs his mouth down the column of Baekhyun's neck, stopping only to press a light kiss on his bare shoulder. A soft noise dies in Baekhyun's throat and his hands come up to fist in the front of the t-shirt Jongin's wearing.
"Just kiss me already," Baekhyun commands, pushing closer to Jongin with arms around his neck now to draw him in.
Jongin grins against Baekhyun's shoulder, scraping his teeth up to where it meets his neck before kissing him just underneath his ear. "But I am kissing you," Jongin teases, smiling when he hears the annoyed huff he gets in response. For all his teasing, Baekhyun's always been impatient when the tables are turned.
Jongin fits his hands around Baekhyun's slender waist to hold him still when Baekhyun tries to pull away with a whine. The pitiful struggle Baekhyun puts up to extricate himself from Jongin’s hold is all bark and no bite. All he manages to do is squirm against Jongin’s front and entice him more.
“Jongin, if you don’t kiss me -”
The rest of Baekhyun’s empty threat is muffled by Jongin’s lips; the kiss is hard and demanding and Baekhyun melts under Jongin’s tongue, head tipping back with a low moan. He’s easy to guide, pliant in Jongin’s hands as he pushes, pushes, pushes until Baekhyun’s back is flat against the wall. Jongin runs his palms down, lets them caress over Baekhyun’s thighs before running back up and under the fabric of his shirt to get a firm grip.
Baekhyun gives a little hop to aid Jongin when he lifts him off the floor, legs around Jongin’s waist and fingers twisting in Jongin’s hair to keep himself steady.
“Baby,” Baekhyun moans, his voice cracking when Jongin rolls his hips forward hard.
Jongin answers with a low hum, distracted by the temptation to mark Baekhyun’s skin in reds and purples.
Baekhyun tugs on his hair to get Jongin’s attention and he looks up with dark eyes and raised eyebrows. “What?”
“You smell like dog.”
Jongin sighs and hefts Baekhyun’s weight in his arms for a better hold. “Don’t fall,” he instructs, pulling away from the wall to head down the hallway and to the bathroom.
“Jongin?” Baekhyun asks, peering back over his shoulder. “Yah, Jongin, where are you taking me?”
Jongin grins. “To shower.”