(no subject)
DRABBLE DUMP PART I
do i wanna know (sesoo; pg13; 326) for minzy ;; sloppy love jingle (taokai; pg13; 344) for merr
The stench of alcohol, clouding up inside this hotel room, is making Sehun's head spin. Or maybe that's just the liquor coursing through his veins, he doesn't really know where one stops and the other starts. He just knows that he's got a tiny, warm body curled up into him, lips pressed into his neck and mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like baby-babble language instead of words. He'd had no idea that Kyungsoo was such an affectionate drunk, but he should've known better than to think that drinking would exacerbate his hyung's affinity for violence.
He hadn't planned for anything that'd occurred when he proposed everyone drink for the sake of celebration after the Hong Kong show. He definitely hadn't thought that everyone would be so kind as to leave them there in this hotel room. Even Jongdae, who was supposed to be rooming with them tonight, has apparently ducked away, and Sehun doesn't even remember him leaving.
He and Kyungsoo are the only two bodies in the room. It makes his heart thud loudly in his chest and he prays it can't be heard, shit, does drinking heighten hearing? Can Kyungsoo hear his thoughts? He doesn't even want to know, because if his ideas are audible ones then Kyungsoo totally knows that every time they get drunk Sehun's overwhelmed with the urge to pick Kyungsoo up and kiss his hauntingly gorgeous, heart-shaped mouth--
"Hey," Sehun groans as he rolls over, scooping up the smaller man into his arms, except Kyungsoo's snoring softly, a little smile on his lips, and he looks about the least intimidating that he ever has in his entire life, at least as far as Sehun's known him.
The kiss can wait 'til later, he decides as he settles in right here on the floor. He doesn't think he could drink away the useless feeling of knowing the truth he's been wondering about for years now; no, for the moment, this is good.
"You're so messy," Zitao groans softly, rolling his eyes, disgust obvious in the wayward turn of his shoulder, which is usually inclined towards Jongin whenever they go out for a meal together. "I really don't think I've ever seen someone eat as badly as you."
This is probably true, and they've both watched Chanyeol drunkenly struggle to remember how chopsticks work at least twice this week. But Jongin's a different case entirely; he probably needs to wear glasses or something, considering the number of times that he's stabbed himself in the chin only to come away with a smear of chunjang stuck to his skin. His depth perception's completely screwed. Normally, Zitao doesn't seem to mind, just gets kind of weirdly cute and leans over, wiping the spot with his thumb and sucking it off, something that Jongin's always been attracted to--
Ah, but his mind doesn't get to go there, at least not this time. Something about having a kind-
of-pissed, kind-of-diva-esque boyfriend sitting right next to him destroys the sexy thoughts for the
time being. No, instead, Zitao's angrily shifting around a pile of noodles before lifting up a mouthful. He doesn't even think to ask permission, just grabs Jongin by the chin and stuffs food between his lips, carefully of course.
(Choking is for later. Much later.)
"See?" And now Zitao's leaning back, eyebrows raised, clearly pleased with himself because the only bits of spare sauce are on the plush pads of his lips. Jongin's all wide-eyed and kinda flush because he doesn't really know how to react? But just as quickly Zitao's glancing around, making sure that none of the waiters are within eyeshot, and then practically pouncing on Jongin, hands at the back of his head, mouth on his, licking up the excess.
He's almost as red as Jongin feels when he pulls away, glancing down at his hands and toying with one of his eight thousand or so rings as a server walks by their table.
"So," Jongin finally manages, all breathless and still a bit confused, "do I get to feed you, too...?"
do i wanna know (sesoo; pg13; 326) for minzy ;; sloppy love jingle (taokai; pg13; 344) for merr
The stench of alcohol, clouding up inside this hotel room, is making Sehun's head spin. Or maybe that's just the liquor coursing through his veins, he doesn't really know where one stops and the other starts. He just knows that he's got a tiny, warm body curled up into him, lips pressed into his neck and mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like baby-babble language instead of words. He'd had no idea that Kyungsoo was such an affectionate drunk, but he should've known better than to think that drinking would exacerbate his hyung's affinity for violence.
He hadn't planned for anything that'd occurred when he proposed everyone drink for the sake of celebration after the Hong Kong show. He definitely hadn't thought that everyone would be so kind as to leave them there in this hotel room. Even Jongdae, who was supposed to be rooming with them tonight, has apparently ducked away, and Sehun doesn't even remember him leaving.
He and Kyungsoo are the only two bodies in the room. It makes his heart thud loudly in his chest and he prays it can't be heard, shit, does drinking heighten hearing? Can Kyungsoo hear his thoughts? He doesn't even want to know, because if his ideas are audible ones then Kyungsoo totally knows that every time they get drunk Sehun's overwhelmed with the urge to pick Kyungsoo up and kiss his hauntingly gorgeous, heart-shaped mouth--
"Hey," Sehun groans as he rolls over, scooping up the smaller man into his arms, except Kyungsoo's snoring softly, a little smile on his lips, and he looks about the least intimidating that he ever has in his entire life, at least as far as Sehun's known him.
The kiss can wait 'til later, he decides as he settles in right here on the floor. He doesn't think he could drink away the useless feeling of knowing the truth he's been wondering about for years now; no, for the moment, this is good.
"You're so messy," Zitao groans softly, rolling his eyes, disgust obvious in the wayward turn of his shoulder, which is usually inclined towards Jongin whenever they go out for a meal together. "I really don't think I've ever seen someone eat as badly as you."
This is probably true, and they've both watched Chanyeol drunkenly struggle to remember how chopsticks work at least twice this week. But Jongin's a different case entirely; he probably needs to wear glasses or something, considering the number of times that he's stabbed himself in the chin only to come away with a smear of chunjang stuck to his skin. His depth perception's completely screwed. Normally, Zitao doesn't seem to mind, just gets kind of weirdly cute and leans over, wiping the spot with his thumb and sucking it off, something that Jongin's always been attracted to--
Ah, but his mind doesn't get to go there, at least not this time. Something about having a kind-
of-pissed, kind-of-diva-esque boyfriend sitting right next to him destroys the sexy thoughts for the
time being. No, instead, Zitao's angrily shifting around a pile of noodles before lifting up a mouthful. He doesn't even think to ask permission, just grabs Jongin by the chin and stuffs food between his lips, carefully of course.
(Choking is for later. Much later.)
"See?" And now Zitao's leaning back, eyebrows raised, clearly pleased with himself because the only bits of spare sauce are on the plush pads of his lips. Jongin's all wide-eyed and kinda flush because he doesn't really know how to react? But just as quickly Zitao's glancing around, making sure that none of the waiters are within eyeshot, and then practically pouncing on Jongin, hands at the back of his head, mouth on his, licking up the excess.
He's almost as red as Jongin feels when he pulls away, glancing down at his hands and toying with one of his eight thousand or so rings as a server walks by their table.
"So," Jongin finally manages, all breathless and still a bit confused, "do I get to feed you, too...?"