kais
in
cupofdaisies
Of Late Night Kisses
Title: Of Late Night Kisses
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff, band!verse
Rating: g
Length: 2.5k
Summary: Nobody can go through life without a lifejacket.
Note: BECAUSE KAISOO'S RECENT POST-VALENTINES DAY DATE AND THIS PICTURE THAT INSPIRED IT ALL.
The twelve of them are in the practice room, dancing to Wolf for the millionth time in a row with the speakers on blast. The song is getting old now, and so is crawling on the floor, especially with Yixing and Jongin’s injuries and the way it’s hard for all of them to get back up again. Even Kyungsoo with his recent sprain. They’re all getting pretty tired, and they didn’t even get a break yesterday-- Valentine’s day.
Not that any of them could have gone out anyway, what with the sasaengs and the media a mile up their asses, lurking and waiting for one of them to fuck up so they can attack. The idol world is vicious, and sometimes-- most times-- Kyungsoo finds himself falling into a sort of sadness that dries up laughs and smiles and friendly conversation on screen.
He’s drowning in songs and lyrics and the stares of his colleagues screaming you’re not good enough, but he knows that he will always have a lifejacket.
“Hyung,” Jongin calls from front of the line, all of them in the middle of rehearsing Growl, but they don’t stop at his interruption. “You’re not doing the hand movements right.”
It isn’t uncommon for Jongin to correct their movements mid-song, so they don’t bat an eyelash when he maneuvers through the throng of moving bodies to stand behind Kyungsoo.
“Like this, hyung,” Jongin whispers, arms wrapping around him to hold his hands and execute the moves with a precision that only Jongin can accomplish. They catch each other’s gaze in the mirror in the front, trapping themselves in sticky wax so they can’t tear it away. “You can’t get lazy. Not now,” he tells Kyungsoo, lips brushing his ear, and he knows he could just turn his head and end everything right now by how close Jongin is to him. Kyungsoo’s ribs build a cage to constrict his heart.
Jongin slinks away shortly after, though not without their hands brushing in a way that teeters on the verge of deliberate.
Kyungsoo knows he isn’t supposed to feel this way; the butterflies, the sparks, the heat in his eyes when he looks at Jongin.
But he does, and he has for a while.
It scares the fucking shit out of him.
“Good job, everybody,” Junmyeon and Kris clap after they’re done for the day, and Jongdae immediately collapses on the floor in a heap of tired bones and worn muscle. Chanyeol gives him a sympathetic smile and hands him a water bottle while Jongin falls into one of the corners, a towel around his neck and a smile on his face.
Kyungsoo watches him with a smile grin on his own face and walks over to him, standing so that the tips of their shoes touch before handing him a water bottle also. “Good practice today?”
“Yeah,” Jongin looks up at him, taking Kyungsoo’s hand when it’s offered and letting himself be dragged up by surprisingly strong arms.
Jongin’s arm slings around narrow shoulders as they walk back to their dorm, a cocky smirk plastered to his face, completely unaware of the turmoil sludging Kyungsoo’s stomach and the way his heart is beating so erratically he’s sure Jongin can hear it. He’s wearing that smile the entire time they’re walking back, and it takes a lot of willpower to keep his eyes off him.
“Hey, you know how yesterday was Valentine’s day?” Jongin begins randomly once they’re back in their room that they share with Chanyeol. He’s laying on his bed, face turned away from Kyungsoo, and his fingers are fiddling with his pillow.
“Yeah, why?”
“We should go out,” he rushes his words. “To the movies. As friends.”
Kyungsoo’s heart stutters, and he rigidly crawls to the edge of his comforter. “Would they let us do that?”
Jongin picks himself up off his bed then, swinging his legs off and sitting to face Kyungsoo. “I don’t care. We hardly ever get breaks and the only movies we get to see are when we make a theater from our own bedroom. And we can’t even do that anymore because of Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol has become a third wheel-- painfully so, crashing their movie nights and hanging off of Jongin during Showtime. This has been their tradition since before they knew they were going to be in the same group, and there’s something about it that’s sacred, held on a higher platform than anything they do with the rest of the members. They’re not about to let Chanyeol intrude on that.
“Come on, Soo,” Jongin leans across the aisle that separates their beds and rests his hand on the elder’s shoulder. “Let’s get cleaned up and go.”
And there’s something that burns bright in Jongin’s eyes, something that he can see and mold into tangible happiness, that has him agreeing to go. “Alright. I’ll meet you down by the car in an hour.”
--
The movies don’t go quite as planned. Despite wearing hats and glasses, the fans still manage to snap a few blurry photos of them at the snack counter. God knows what would happen if they knew Jongin stole the manager’s keys and Kyungsoo drove them here illegally-- he wasn’t joking when he said he wants his license.
Though the rest of the movie goes perfectly fine, no cameras or fans ogling them as they snack on nachos and sip on Coke and sit a little too closely.
The entire time Kyungsoo is trying to pay attention to the movie, to keep his mind away from a certain dancer, but the buzz of Jongin’s skin so close to his fries his nerves until he’s hyper aware of all the things Jongin does, from the way he shifts closer to Kyungsoo every time the scene changes to the way he picks up his drink after exactly twelve nachos then wipes the condensation off on his black skinny jeans.
It’s during the middle of the movie that Jongin leans over, eyes still on the movie, and whispers, “you know, I’ve seen this movie before, but I don’t mind rewatching it.”
Kyungsoo watches the movie reflect in the dark pools of Jongin’s eyes. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m watching it with you,” he suddenly turns to face Kyungsoo, so close that their noses almost touch, and both of their breaths catch in their throats.
It isn’t until one of the characters starts singing again that they tug themselves away from the gravitational pull of each other’s eyes. They turn back to the movie, and Kyungsoo wonders if Jongin is just as distraught as him, blurry images of what could have been filling his mind.
That’s all just fantasy, though; it wouldn’t happen. So he concentrates back on the movie and tries to block Jongin from his invading his subconscious. (It doesn’t work.)
--
They don’t go back to their dorm after the movie is over. Jongin tells him to turn down another familiar street, and before he knows it they’re sneaking in the back of the SM building, avoiding the flashing lights of sasaeng’s cameras and nasty rumors that would be sure to rear their heads within the hour. But as far as he knows, neither of them are spotted.
“Are you sure we should be in here, Jongin?” Kyungsoo murmurs in paranoia, stalking around the halls after him and constantly checking behind them.
“We had to return hyung-nim’s car anyway,” Jongin shrugs. “And I’ve been here a lot of times at night to practice. It’s no big deal.” They stop short when they come across a room with light seeping from the crack in the door, and Kyungsoo curses when he almost runs into Jongin’s back. “See?” He raises an eyebrow. “Other people are still here.”
“Still,” Kyungsoo frowns, but follows Jongin into the next room nonetheless. It’s not like he could ever say no to Jongin. “I just think--”
“Dance with me, hyung.”
“What?” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen at the interruption. He watches as Jongin walks over to the stereo on the other side of the room, plugs in his iPod, and a fast song starts bouncing from the walls and ceiling. Neither of them bothers to turn the lights on, the pale shine seeping through the blinds enough to highlight the room.
“Dance with me,” Jongin says again, doing the wave with his arms until one hand flicks and is outstretched to Kyungsoo as an invitation. “Kyungsoo hyung.”
He really does need to learn how to get past Jongin’s imploring puppy dog look.
“Fine,” Kyungsoo takes his hand, but not before letting out an explosive sigh.
They start out actually trying to dance properly, Jongin moving his body the way he does on stage and Kyungsoo with a refined manner that dulls the curves of his body. It doesn’t take long before they get sloppy, using the highs and lows of the song to jump around and laugh and have fun.
By the second song, they’re absolutely lost in their own bliss.
Jongin grabs onto both of Kyungsoo’s shoulders, both of them jumping like they’re on a trampoline but they’re already out of breath. “This is fun!” He shouts, and all Kyungsoo can do is giggle.
They haven’t been this unconstrained since debut. Everyday for them has been one endeavor after another, and they’ve never had time to do the things they used to before debut, like take funny selcas or hang out at the Starbucks down the street.
This is making them feel like real people again. Real, living, breathing, people. People who find love in the damndest of places.
When the song ends, so does their dance, and Jongin falls to the floor in a heap of laughter with Kyungsoo in his arms. Jongin lays on his back, Kyungsoo perpendicular, with the latter’s chest overlapping his and an elbow digging painfully into his rib.
“You’re so stupid,” Kyungsoo manages between breathless pants, looking down on Jongin. He sees the way the moonlight bends over high cheek bones, and Jongin sees the same thing staring back up at him.
The air between them suddenly becomes tense, pulled tight on a string between them that they walk unsteadily. Anything could upset their balance.
What Kyungsoo and Jongin hold so fragilely between them, it’s private and intimate and something that nobody else could ever understand. Their friendship is strong and different from the rest’s, and it’s an unspoken agreement that they never talk about what this sort of friendship could lead to.
They’re both starting to think they’d like to find out.
Jongin’s hand cups Kyungsoo’s cheek, and they wobble on the rope just slightly. His thumb runs over the spread of a blush, and they try and hold on as hard as they can, but it’s hard. Then his hand moves lower, thumb brushing the swell of his lower lip, dragging it until it slowly pops back into place, and the wind tosses them up in the air.
“You have such pretty lips, hyung.”
And they both fall.
It’s Kyungsoo that leans down first, dips his toes in the water of the forbidden, but it’s Jongin that meets him halfway and sends them both face-first into the rocky waves of unknown territory. Their lips touch lightly at first, Kyungsoo’s heart about to burst in his chest and the hand on Jongin’s chest telling him that the other feels the same way too.
He wonders how long they’ve been running around each other; how long it’s been since Jongin realized he might have a different sort of feeling for him than the other hyungs. He knows he first realized it when there was a raging inferno of jealousy heating his stomach when Jongin would go out to the fields with Moonkyu and Sehun and they would take pictures together. Lord knows he still gets jealous over Sehun and Taemin, and now even Chanyeol.
But in the back of his mind he always knew that Jongin would come back to him and follow him around with a sleepy head on his shoulder and swollen eyes and a mouth that never stops complaining. Even today, that’s how it is. On stage, Jongin’s eyes find his, an arm wraps around his waist, and their hands twine together with more feelings cradled between their palms than anything a picture could capture.
They slip into an easier position, Kyungsoo straddling him with his hands braced on either side of his head, and kiss deeper, heads turning to the side and breathing becoming labored. Kyungsoo pulls back for just a second to let the words, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” slip out of mouth. Then they’re right back to kissing, Jongin’s fingers threading through his hair and fitting their lips together with more fervor.
His lungs burn and his heart is swimming in desire and this is the best feeling in the entire world.
Kissing somehow morphs into cuddling (because there’s only so much they can take before they explode), and a slow song plays over the room from Jongin’s iPod. Kyungsoo has his face buried in Jongin’s chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne. He tries not to squirm at the fingers clutching his waist or the way Jongin’s breath hits his forehead or even the way he can feel the younger’s gaze on him like a 15 pound bowling ball. These are things he should be used to by now, but it seems like nothing about the younger boy will ever be less than searing passion.
“So are you officially mine?” Jongin asks somewhere between calm breaths and gentle touches, the tides of moonlight and ebbs of smiles.
“You know we can’t do this, Jongin,” Kyungsoo laments, the bliss slipping from his grasp. “We’re idols.”
“But we can try,” he argues, and something kick-starts Jongin’s heart so that it’s beating harshly under Kyungsoo’s palm. “We can try. I promise I won’t mess this up. I’ve liked you for so so long hyung, but I promise I won’t touch you too much in front of the cameras or look at you too much because you know they’re already on to us--”
“Okay,” Kyungsoo interrupts, biting his lip shyly and trying to fight off the blush that comes from being confessed to like that. He knows that if this were anyone else, he wouldn’t take even the slightest chance at risking his career for something like lust mixed with love. No way in hell. But this is Jongin, and Kyungsoo thinks that in another universe, maybe even this one, he can see himself coming home to and waking up with and loving the same almond eyes, tan skin, and thick lips. He couldn’t risk not taking a chance on this and losing Jongin forever.
He can see a future for them, and if that means defining the connection they have between them and sculpting it into their own definition of love, then so be it. Some things will always be worth the risk. And by the smile on Jongin’s face as he answers, he knows Jongin is thinking the same thing he is.
“Okay because it’s you.”
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff, band!verse
Rating: g
Length: 2.5k
Summary: Nobody can go through life without a lifejacket.
Note: BECAUSE KAISOO'S RECENT POST-VALENTINES DAY DATE AND THIS PICTURE THAT INSPIRED IT ALL.
The twelve of them are in the practice room, dancing to Wolf for the millionth time in a row with the speakers on blast. The song is getting old now, and so is crawling on the floor, especially with Yixing and Jongin’s injuries and the way it’s hard for all of them to get back up again. Even Kyungsoo with his recent sprain. They’re all getting pretty tired, and they didn’t even get a break yesterday-- Valentine’s day.
Not that any of them could have gone out anyway, what with the sasaengs and the media a mile up their asses, lurking and waiting for one of them to fuck up so they can attack. The idol world is vicious, and sometimes-- most times-- Kyungsoo finds himself falling into a sort of sadness that dries up laughs and smiles and friendly conversation on screen.
He’s drowning in songs and lyrics and the stares of his colleagues screaming you’re not good enough, but he knows that he will always have a lifejacket.
“Hyung,” Jongin calls from front of the line, all of them in the middle of rehearsing Growl, but they don’t stop at his interruption. “You’re not doing the hand movements right.”
It isn’t uncommon for Jongin to correct their movements mid-song, so they don’t bat an eyelash when he maneuvers through the throng of moving bodies to stand behind Kyungsoo.
“Like this, hyung,” Jongin whispers, arms wrapping around him to hold his hands and execute the moves with a precision that only Jongin can accomplish. They catch each other’s gaze in the mirror in the front, trapping themselves in sticky wax so they can’t tear it away. “You can’t get lazy. Not now,” he tells Kyungsoo, lips brushing his ear, and he knows he could just turn his head and end everything right now by how close Jongin is to him. Kyungsoo’s ribs build a cage to constrict his heart.
Jongin slinks away shortly after, though not without their hands brushing in a way that teeters on the verge of deliberate.
Kyungsoo knows he isn’t supposed to feel this way; the butterflies, the sparks, the heat in his eyes when he looks at Jongin.
But he does, and he has for a while.
It scares the fucking shit out of him.
“Good job, everybody,” Junmyeon and Kris clap after they’re done for the day, and Jongdae immediately collapses on the floor in a heap of tired bones and worn muscle. Chanyeol gives him a sympathetic smile and hands him a water bottle while Jongin falls into one of the corners, a towel around his neck and a smile on his face.
Kyungsoo watches him with a smile grin on his own face and walks over to him, standing so that the tips of their shoes touch before handing him a water bottle also. “Good practice today?”
“Yeah,” Jongin looks up at him, taking Kyungsoo’s hand when it’s offered and letting himself be dragged up by surprisingly strong arms.
Jongin’s arm slings around narrow shoulders as they walk back to their dorm, a cocky smirk plastered to his face, completely unaware of the turmoil sludging Kyungsoo’s stomach and the way his heart is beating so erratically he’s sure Jongin can hear it. He’s wearing that smile the entire time they’re walking back, and it takes a lot of willpower to keep his eyes off him.
“Hey, you know how yesterday was Valentine’s day?” Jongin begins randomly once they’re back in their room that they share with Chanyeol. He’s laying on his bed, face turned away from Kyungsoo, and his fingers are fiddling with his pillow.
“Yeah, why?”
“We should go out,” he rushes his words. “To the movies. As friends.”
Kyungsoo’s heart stutters, and he rigidly crawls to the edge of his comforter. “Would they let us do that?”
Jongin picks himself up off his bed then, swinging his legs off and sitting to face Kyungsoo. “I don’t care. We hardly ever get breaks and the only movies we get to see are when we make a theater from our own bedroom. And we can’t even do that anymore because of Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol has become a third wheel-- painfully so, crashing their movie nights and hanging off of Jongin during Showtime. This has been their tradition since before they knew they were going to be in the same group, and there’s something about it that’s sacred, held on a higher platform than anything they do with the rest of the members. They’re not about to let Chanyeol intrude on that.
“Come on, Soo,” Jongin leans across the aisle that separates their beds and rests his hand on the elder’s shoulder. “Let’s get cleaned up and go.”
And there’s something that burns bright in Jongin’s eyes, something that he can see and mold into tangible happiness, that has him agreeing to go. “Alright. I’ll meet you down by the car in an hour.”
--
The movies don’t go quite as planned. Despite wearing hats and glasses, the fans still manage to snap a few blurry photos of them at the snack counter. God knows what would happen if they knew Jongin stole the manager’s keys and Kyungsoo drove them here illegally-- he wasn’t joking when he said he wants his license.
Though the rest of the movie goes perfectly fine, no cameras or fans ogling them as they snack on nachos and sip on Coke and sit a little too closely.
The entire time Kyungsoo is trying to pay attention to the movie, to keep his mind away from a certain dancer, but the buzz of Jongin’s skin so close to his fries his nerves until he’s hyper aware of all the things Jongin does, from the way he shifts closer to Kyungsoo every time the scene changes to the way he picks up his drink after exactly twelve nachos then wipes the condensation off on his black skinny jeans.
It’s during the middle of the movie that Jongin leans over, eyes still on the movie, and whispers, “you know, I’ve seen this movie before, but I don’t mind rewatching it.”
Kyungsoo watches the movie reflect in the dark pools of Jongin’s eyes. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m watching it with you,” he suddenly turns to face Kyungsoo, so close that their noses almost touch, and both of their breaths catch in their throats.
It isn’t until one of the characters starts singing again that they tug themselves away from the gravitational pull of each other’s eyes. They turn back to the movie, and Kyungsoo wonders if Jongin is just as distraught as him, blurry images of what could have been filling his mind.
That’s all just fantasy, though; it wouldn’t happen. So he concentrates back on the movie and tries to block Jongin from his invading his subconscious. (It doesn’t work.)
--
They don’t go back to their dorm after the movie is over. Jongin tells him to turn down another familiar street, and before he knows it they’re sneaking in the back of the SM building, avoiding the flashing lights of sasaeng’s cameras and nasty rumors that would be sure to rear their heads within the hour. But as far as he knows, neither of them are spotted.
“Are you sure we should be in here, Jongin?” Kyungsoo murmurs in paranoia, stalking around the halls after him and constantly checking behind them.
“We had to return hyung-nim’s car anyway,” Jongin shrugs. “And I’ve been here a lot of times at night to practice. It’s no big deal.” They stop short when they come across a room with light seeping from the crack in the door, and Kyungsoo curses when he almost runs into Jongin’s back. “See?” He raises an eyebrow. “Other people are still here.”
“Still,” Kyungsoo frowns, but follows Jongin into the next room nonetheless. It’s not like he could ever say no to Jongin. “I just think--”
“Dance with me, hyung.”
“What?” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen at the interruption. He watches as Jongin walks over to the stereo on the other side of the room, plugs in his iPod, and a fast song starts bouncing from the walls and ceiling. Neither of them bothers to turn the lights on, the pale shine seeping through the blinds enough to highlight the room.
“Dance with me,” Jongin says again, doing the wave with his arms until one hand flicks and is outstretched to Kyungsoo as an invitation. “Kyungsoo hyung.”
He really does need to learn how to get past Jongin’s imploring puppy dog look.
“Fine,” Kyungsoo takes his hand, but not before letting out an explosive sigh.
They start out actually trying to dance properly, Jongin moving his body the way he does on stage and Kyungsoo with a refined manner that dulls the curves of his body. It doesn’t take long before they get sloppy, using the highs and lows of the song to jump around and laugh and have fun.
By the second song, they’re absolutely lost in their own bliss.
Jongin grabs onto both of Kyungsoo’s shoulders, both of them jumping like they’re on a trampoline but they’re already out of breath. “This is fun!” He shouts, and all Kyungsoo can do is giggle.
They haven’t been this unconstrained since debut. Everyday for them has been one endeavor after another, and they’ve never had time to do the things they used to before debut, like take funny selcas or hang out at the Starbucks down the street.
This is making them feel like real people again. Real, living, breathing, people. People who find love in the damndest of places.
When the song ends, so does their dance, and Jongin falls to the floor in a heap of laughter with Kyungsoo in his arms. Jongin lays on his back, Kyungsoo perpendicular, with the latter’s chest overlapping his and an elbow digging painfully into his rib.
“You’re so stupid,” Kyungsoo manages between breathless pants, looking down on Jongin. He sees the way the moonlight bends over high cheek bones, and Jongin sees the same thing staring back up at him.
The air between them suddenly becomes tense, pulled tight on a string between them that they walk unsteadily. Anything could upset their balance.
What Kyungsoo and Jongin hold so fragilely between them, it’s private and intimate and something that nobody else could ever understand. Their friendship is strong and different from the rest’s, and it’s an unspoken agreement that they never talk about what this sort of friendship could lead to.
They’re both starting to think they’d like to find out.
Jongin’s hand cups Kyungsoo’s cheek, and they wobble on the rope just slightly. His thumb runs over the spread of a blush, and they try and hold on as hard as they can, but it’s hard. Then his hand moves lower, thumb brushing the swell of his lower lip, dragging it until it slowly pops back into place, and the wind tosses them up in the air.
“You have such pretty lips, hyung.”
And they both fall.
It’s Kyungsoo that leans down first, dips his toes in the water of the forbidden, but it’s Jongin that meets him halfway and sends them both face-first into the rocky waves of unknown territory. Their lips touch lightly at first, Kyungsoo’s heart about to burst in his chest and the hand on Jongin’s chest telling him that the other feels the same way too.
He wonders how long they’ve been running around each other; how long it’s been since Jongin realized he might have a different sort of feeling for him than the other hyungs. He knows he first realized it when there was a raging inferno of jealousy heating his stomach when Jongin would go out to the fields with Moonkyu and Sehun and they would take pictures together. Lord knows he still gets jealous over Sehun and Taemin, and now even Chanyeol.
But in the back of his mind he always knew that Jongin would come back to him and follow him around with a sleepy head on his shoulder and swollen eyes and a mouth that never stops complaining. Even today, that’s how it is. On stage, Jongin’s eyes find his, an arm wraps around his waist, and their hands twine together with more feelings cradled between their palms than anything a picture could capture.
They slip into an easier position, Kyungsoo straddling him with his hands braced on either side of his head, and kiss deeper, heads turning to the side and breathing becoming labored. Kyungsoo pulls back for just a second to let the words, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” slip out of mouth. Then they’re right back to kissing, Jongin’s fingers threading through his hair and fitting their lips together with more fervor.
His lungs burn and his heart is swimming in desire and this is the best feeling in the entire world.
Kissing somehow morphs into cuddling (because there’s only so much they can take before they explode), and a slow song plays over the room from Jongin’s iPod. Kyungsoo has his face buried in Jongin’s chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne. He tries not to squirm at the fingers clutching his waist or the way Jongin’s breath hits his forehead or even the way he can feel the younger’s gaze on him like a 15 pound bowling ball. These are things he should be used to by now, but it seems like nothing about the younger boy will ever be less than searing passion.
“So are you officially mine?” Jongin asks somewhere between calm breaths and gentle touches, the tides of moonlight and ebbs of smiles.
“You know we can’t do this, Jongin,” Kyungsoo laments, the bliss slipping from his grasp. “We’re idols.”
“But we can try,” he argues, and something kick-starts Jongin’s heart so that it’s beating harshly under Kyungsoo’s palm. “We can try. I promise I won’t mess this up. I’ve liked you for so so long hyung, but I promise I won’t touch you too much in front of the cameras or look at you too much because you know they’re already on to us--”
“Okay,” Kyungsoo interrupts, biting his lip shyly and trying to fight off the blush that comes from being confessed to like that. He knows that if this were anyone else, he wouldn’t take even the slightest chance at risking his career for something like lust mixed with love. No way in hell. But this is Jongin, and Kyungsoo thinks that in another universe, maybe even this one, he can see himself coming home to and waking up with and loving the same almond eyes, tan skin, and thick lips. He couldn’t risk not taking a chance on this and losing Jongin forever.
He can see a future for them, and if that means defining the connection they have between them and sculpting it into their own definition of love, then so be it. Some things will always be worth the risk. And by the smile on Jongin’s face as he answers, he knows Jongin is thinking the same thing he is.
“Okay because it’s you.”