(for curryramyeon) final approach
For: curryramyeon
Title: final approach
Pairing: Jongin/Chanyeol
Word Count: ~6,000 words
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual content (swallowing, overstimulation)
Summary: A cancelled flight delivers Jongin the answers he never knew he was searching for.
Author's Note: So this has been a trip! First off, I want to thank my prompter for the amazing prompts! Seriously, I literally cycled through all of the prompts because I loved them so much! As a result, this fic has evolved in many different ways, so elements from previous drafts made it in. I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful time reading and thank you again! ^ o ^
02:00 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
Due to extreme weather conditions, Flight 222 to Incheon, South Korea has been cancelled until further notice. We apologize for any inconveniences that this may-”
Jongin tunes out the rest of the announcement after he picks up a few key words with his limited grasp on English. Incheon. Cancelled. When he looks up, the sign blinks red when the word CANCELLED appears in his flight’s status. Taking a deep breath in, Jongin slowly exhales his worries into the winter air.
No use worrying anymore when the truth is laid out for him, cold and bare.
Quietly, he separates himself from the mass of angry tourists gathered near the check-in, in favor of a seat near the glass windows of the terminal, ignoring the few glances he’s given from the elderly and teenagers alike. It’s as if these people have never met a Korean in their life. From his time spent here in New York, Jongin firmly believes that many of them have in fact, never met anyone from overseas.
Setting his camera down on the seat beside him, Jongin takes a peek at the city lights outside. Bright whites and yellows illuminate the snowfall, decorating a canvas of black and blue. It’s beautiful, like a scene from a movie, and Jongin wishes he was watching it from his room back home.
It was meant to be a cheerful winter break for him, celebrating his positive exam marks with his family back at home. We’re so proud of you, his sisters congratulated him on Kakaotalk, and together, they made plans for a bit of a celebration when he got back to Seoul. Fishing his phone from his pocket, Jongin quickly sends off the bad news to his family.
But it’s the holidays Jonginnie ;;
They’re upset, and Jongin feels guilty because he’d been looking forward to seeing them after spending so much time here in the states. Homesickness. It used to be something that Jongin laughed off because he could always call his family or even chat with them from his webcam. When he first boarded that flight from Incheon to New York, he felt free from a gilded cage of tradition.
I know, I’m sorry. Please tell mom and dad I love them and I’ll try to get home as soon as I can.
But then the loneliness started to settle in. That creeping feeling of alienation in an unknown city, with no one to talk to and strangers at every corner. At first it meant nothing to Jongin as he buried himself in his studies and film projects. But then he started to miss his family. His friends. He started to miss what was familiar to him.
He could always talk to them through messages, text, but it wasn’t enough. Isn’t enough.
Even now, Jongin’s fingers tremble as they type each word out. The small chime from Kakao startles him as he slips out of his thoughts, and with a quick slide of his finger, he moves on from the chat to fumble around with his Youtube favorites.
He’s going to try to enjoy his time here.
02:25 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
In between funny cat videos and obscure cooking tutorials, Jongin notices a line queueing up near the check-in. The staff near the counter seem to be pointing in different directions, leading families, couples, and single tourists to their destinations. A family passes by him on their way to the gift shop, and it’s then Jongin realizes that he has to find a place to stay for the night.
English was never his strongest suit and he dreads the struggle that is sure to come from his desperation-the only reason he made it to the airport is through perseverance and a successful game of charades.
“Ex... cuse...” Jongin practices under his breath, mustering up the few words he can recall. “Place... stay.”
The snow’s tapping harder against the windows and Jongin briefly wonders if the airport would allow him to just sleep here in the lobby for the night. His answers are given through demonstration as a few people start to nest on the seats throughout the terminal. Blankets are thrown haphazardly over bodies, and pillows are brought out and passed around. There are even a few tents being erected near the windows.
Jongin’s about to ask one of the staff for an extra blanket before a voice catches his attention.
“It’s alright mom. Tell her I said hi.”
It isn’t through the tone or the feel that keeps him anchored, but through the language. Korean. Jongin almost missed the sweet familiarity in its sound and it sparks a warmth inside of him as he turns to try and converse with the owner. The small feeling of happiness he had growing inside of him is quickly extinguished when recognition supplies him with a name.
Park Chanyeol.
Bright smiles, intoxicating invites, naked skin. Heated kisses, slender fingers, choked moans. An empty escape. A downward spiral.
For Jongin, Park Chanyeol is literally six feet of lingering emotions and unanswered calls, framed with absolutely delicious nights of sex and quick fucks in bathroom stalls. In other words-a very real pain in his ass. Chanyeol’s the last person Jongin wants to see right now, and he hopes that if he turns away quick enough, Chanyeol will just move on by and not even recognize him. It’s happened before.
“Kim Jongin?”
Chanyeol’s voice is still as charming as the first time Jongin heard it, and his name is just as enticing as the first time it rolled off of Chanyeol’s tongue, when Jongin rolled his hips into him in his lust. It makes Jongin feel weak, and he doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He has more important things to worry about, like the fact that he should be getting some sleep right now because of his cancelled flight.
“Jongin is that you?” Chanyeol’s voice is teasing and it’s infuriating because Jongin wants him to continue talking. He wants to keep hearing his voice.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Jongin replies quietly, turning around so he can curl up on the seat.
“I think you do.” A thump from behind tells Jongin that Chanyeol’s taken a seat next to him, and he can feel Chanyeol’s eyes watching him, tracing his body like he always does. “Jongin.” Chanyeol’s voice drops to a whisper, and it’s not fair. Chanyeol has a way of just appearing out of fucking nowhere and slipping back into Jongin’s life like nothing happened.
“I don’t know you.”
Chanyeol chuckles, low and deep. “Is this any way of treating an old friend?”
“We’re not friends,” Jongin says flatly.
Chanyeol draws himself closer to Jongin until his breath tickles his ear. “Aren’t we?”
His relationship with Chanyeol ceased being anything more than acquaintances the moment Chanyeol left him alone in the morning, without a single goodbye to hold the pieces of his heart. They swim in shallow waters, but only Jongin seems to be sinking.
It’s Jongin’s own undoing, falling for something that was meant to be nothing.
“You’re an asshole,” Jongin turns around with a plastic smile, his nose barely brushing against Chanyeol’s. “Do you really have the right to ask that right now?”
Chanyeol grins, amused. “I think I do.” His eyes are bright, inviting. Apathetic.
They haven’t changed. Jongin has.
“I think you’re full of shit,” Jongin replies quickly before scooting a seat over.
As if performing choreography, Chanyeol follows him without missing a beat. “So what are you doing here? I heard you were taking a trip back to the motherland for the winter break.” His eyes glance over to the windows, crinkling into crescents after a few seconds. “Don’t tell me your flight was cancelled.”
His voices sounds happy? Happier? Dick.
“It was,” Jongin says. He sees no need to waste energy on lies. Chanyeol has a way of coaxing out truths one way or another. “Why are you here?”
A sound of delight escapes Chanyeol’s throat as he throws his head back. “It just so happens, my plane has been cancelled as well. I guess we’re both stranded here in the West for the night.”
“You sound pleased.”
“The US isn’t that bad,” Chanyeol admits. He quickly slips into English with ease, irritatingly so with all of the pompous theatrics Jongin remembers him for, and it has Jongin freezing up in his seat because he can only understand every fifth word Chanyeol’s saying.
Chanyeol’s always been talented in learning, more than Jongin would like to admit. Perhaps it was that level of determination that made Jongin fall for him the first time, the way Chanyeol wouldn’t back down from any challenge given to him. The way Chanyeol sought to prove himself on camera, and even harder off of it.
“Why are you doing this?” Jongin asks, with thinly veiled annoyance.
“English is fun,” Chanyeol says, face full of mirth. “There’s just something about being bilingual that’s just-”
“I meant,” Jongin cuts him off. “Why are you still talking to me? After...” Jongin screws his eyes shut and curls up tighter in his seat, too tired to revisit old battle scars. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
To Jongin’s surprise, Chanyeol actually remains quiet, choosing not to pry further like he usually does.
03:11 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
How’s your filming coming along? ^^
Jongin smiles at his sister’s text and quickly replies with his progress. He recently filmed a short film with his colleague Kyungsoo, an engaging (in his eyes) tale about a would-be murderer falling for one of the men he’d be training against.
He has to give the best compliments to his friend. Do Kyungsoo has a way with perfecting murderous stares that it just seemed right casting him for that role.
The small group of people he showed his preview to also agree with his sentiments. However, while they complimented him on the excellent choice of cast, they had a few choice words for his script, mainly with how the resolution didn’t seem to pan well within the world he established. Admittedly, there’s been a recent glaring lack of creativity in his work.
He blames it on the massive amount of late night studying he endured in the past few months, but he knows the truth isn’t so cut and dry.
His plots have become dull. Predictable. They’re starting to lose that spark that fueled his muse when he first picked up a camera. The first time he pushed record and created magic.
You know me. it’s going well. I’ll show you guys a preview when I come home.
He isn’t strong enough to let his family know the truth, because filming was one of the major reasons he came to the states in the first place. It was a major factor in the fuss he made over their decision. A new environment, new sights, new people. Like a child given his first toy, Jongin wanted to capture it all on film. To show everyone back home that this was his calling.
This was what he was meant to do in life.
But lately, he’s been doubting himself.
That small, creeping voice in the back of his head reminding him what he gave up to be here. He could’ve followed in his sisters’ footsteps and enrolled in the university they attended, studied law and make a nice living for himself. He could be close to his family, in both distance and unity. Image.
That isn’t what he wanted though. He couldn’t see himself caged in such a depressing lifestyle, away from the privilege of independence. He liked making his own choices. He enjoys being able to set his own goals and creating his own little niche in the world. Art.
He reminds himself that it’s worth the struggle.
“Jongin?”
But sometimes there are bumps in the road that are too hard to ignore, and for Jongin, they all begin with Park Chanyeol.
03:32 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
“So do you have any plans for today?” Chanyeol asks.
Casual banter. Chanyeol was never one for silence, always the one to lead the conversations, and Jongin was always happy to follow his lead. This time is no different and Jongin allows himself to be led into the shallow waters.
“Not anymore,” Jongin hums. After a beat, he peeks over. “What about you?”
A grunt. “Maybe.” His voice is eager. There’s a deeper meaning to his answer and Jongin knows full well what Chanyeol’s trying to get at. The game he’s trying to play. “The morning is still young. New York thrives during these hours anyways...” His voice trails off, easy bait.
Jongin doesn’t take it, choosing to stay quiet.
“Is this a new camera?” Chanyeol continues, undeterred. “I figured you’d still be into filming. It’s just like you.”
When he tries to reach for it, Jongin stops his hand quickly with his own. Their fingers brush softly and it’s then Jongin realizes he’s made a mistake. He stumbles in the water. Heat. It licks along his skin and from the way Chanyeol breathes louder, it hasn’t gone unnoticed, not with how his eyes linger on Jongin’s hand like it’s something he’s been missing for years.
Jongin pulls back first, taking the camera with him. Chanyeol keeps his hand stretched forward, caught in a moment he doesn’t want to forget. “It’s just like you,” he repeats, before a smile stretches across his face. “You haven’t changed.”
“You’re the one who hasn’t changed,” Jongin fires back, but there’s a considerable lack of venom to it.
This tickles Chanyeol. “If you say so.” This time his eyes linger on Jongin’s, and a mix of emotions briefly flicker across their reflection.
Regret is what Jongin notices, and it pulls him in deeper.
“Have you filmed anything new?” Chanyeol asks as he leans back in his seat. “Is it still the same pseudo-dystopian stuff you were so fond of back-”
“I haven’t,” Jongin interrupts. “Filmed anything recently. It’s... complicated.” He’d explain it further but Chanyeol is no one he needs to explain anything to.
Chanyeol seems content with the simple answer and settles in further. “Shame. I love watching you work.”
Jongin snorts. “Is this a come-on?”
“It’s a compliment,” Chanyeol teases. “Although it’s all the same to you I suppose.”
Jongin’s cheeks darken with pink and he decides he’s spent enough time here in the airport. It’s late. He’s getting tired of waiting for something, anything, to pull him out of this vapid conversation.
“I have to go,” Jongin says as he starts to collect his belongings.
“So soon?” Chanyeol looks crestfallen, but it isn’t as effective on Jongin this time. “I... I thought we were catching up.” This however, does catch Jongin off-guard. Defrosts him. The tremble in Chanyeol’s voice. The slight tremor in his lips. It’s nothing like the Chanyeol Jongin sacrificed hours of studying on.
“I...” he starts, unsure of how to voice his thoughts.
“Why don’t I come with you?” Chanyeol asks, tone buoyant. There’s weights on Jongin’s ankles, and just like that, he’s sinking. “Like old times?”
Jongin couldn’t say yes fast enough.
04:37 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
The streets are quiet as they walk, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Snow blankets the city in a cocoon of majesty and Jongin catches it all on film.
They pass by Christmas shops, peeking inside the windows to the stockings and holidays cards, and the occasional group of carolers, Chanyeol joining in happily each time with honeyed words. A voice of many talents. Jongin captures it all, memorizes it.
Chanyeol will sometimes slink a hand around Jongin’s shoulders absentmindedly, and it will just rest there, grasping at his side. It’s familiar, and Jongin doesn’t bat an eyelash at it. Chanyeol takes his nonchalance as an open invitation and pulls him in close, familiarizing himself with Jongin’s warmth, and Jongin with Chanyeol’s.
He’s amused by how much he’s missed this.
“It isn’t easy, when you’re auditioning for lackluster roles,” Chanyeol comments sadly. “There aren’t that many roles for the average Asian actor that don’t include comic relief or something related to martial arts. Background fodder. It sucks.”
Jongin hums in agreement. He knows the industry. The hurdles. “We just have to keep at it.”
“But how long will this dry spell last?” Chanyeol continues. “I’m considering hitting up theater work.”
“You? In a musical? I can’t see it.”
Chanyeol pulls him in harder, and it has Jongin poking at his side with a few fingers. “Hey! Thanks for the vote of confidence. I might just audition for a role just to prove you wrong.”
Jongin ignores him for the much more interesting holiday lights wrapped around the lampposts. Christmas is a tradition here in the West that Jongin’s gotten more accustomed to after all of the commercials and billboard signs he saw promoting the holiday. It’s commercialism at its finest, but the amount of happiness that radiates off of everyone has Jongin feeling the Christmas, spirit, so to speak.
“Are you doing anything for Christmas?” Jongin asks lightly.
Chanyeol’s grip eases up. “Not particularly. Might spend a few nights at Hongdae. Drink. Party. Meet up with a few old friends.” His grip grows tighter. “My family has other plans so they can’t meet up with me. It’s fine though, I’m used to it.” It’s there, the same Chanyeol from before and Jongin wants more of this side of him. “What about you?”
“It’s nothing big,” Jongin answers. “Just a small get together with my family.”
“Ah, but it’s these simple things that mean the most.” Chanyeol says wistfully. “The moments that stick with you.”
This time Jongin pulls Chanyeol in closer, and here, he can feel how loudly Chanyeol’s heart beats inside him.
05:02 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
“It’s just a small townhouse my friend lent me over the holidays,” Chanyeol explains as he fishes for the keys from his pocket. “He’s gone away on a holiday trip.”
It wasn’t easy, but Chanyeol managed to convince Jongin to stay with him for the night. Against all warning signs firing off inside of his head, Jongin agrees if only because he has no one to turn to for the evening. Chanyeol is still the closest person Jongin has to a friend at this hour, and it’s much better than staying alone at the airport with a sea of strangers.
“Don’t mind the mess,” Chanyeol says as he leads Jongin inside.
The room is minimalist by design and immaculate. Intimate. Not a flower vase or painting out of place. A sniff in the air and this, Jongin thinks, this must be what money smells like. An old theory pops back into his head, and he secretly wonders if Chanyeol really is a chaebol prince and that his stay here in the states is just a way for him to kill time.
“Do you want me to hang my coat anywhere?” Jongin asks.
Chanyeol points over to a closet before walking further in. As Jongin sets his coat away, a photo catches his eyes and upon closer inspection, he notices Chanyeol in the frame.
“It’s my friend from university,” Chanyeol says as he throws his peacoat inside the closet, being careful not to brush against Jongin. “Oh Sehun. A real smartass but he’s a good kid when you get to know him.”
“Rich kids flock together?” Jongin asks as he shuffles into the living room. Gently, he sets his camera down on the coffee table, avoiding the basket of fruit in the center.
A peal of laughter. “Unlike him though, I don’t just stick with that crowd. Too strict if you ask me.”
Chanyeol had a certain way of carrying himself. It was odd. It’s clear Chanyeol’s life was built around rules, built around the one fact that image is what matters the most. But he lacked any sort of rigidness that came with such a lifestyle. He was playful, energetic. Careless.
It’s like he wants to shed his image away, ripping apart skin and bone until only his soul was what everyone would see.
“I would never have guessed you were part of the upper class,” Jongin jests. “That’s a compliment by the way.”
“First one of the day. I like this progress.”
Jongin laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me.”
It’s too quick. Scorch marks burn across Jongin’s heart and he feels the tension in the air. Chanyeol seems aware as well, with the way his eyes widen before he leans in close to Jongin.
Chanyeol is sinking as well.
“I guess you really haven’t changed,” Chanyeol notes, lust drifting over his eyes.
Jongin doesn’t fight back this time. “Neither have you.”
“By the way,” Chanyeol breathes, his face inches away from Jongin’s.” That is a come-on.”
05:05 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
When Chanyeol leans down to kiss him, Jongin meets him halfway, bringing up a hand to pull him in close. Their lips mesh together roughly, but it doesn’t matter to them. This was long overdue. Jongin kisses with fervor, dragging his tongue over Chanyeol’s lips until he’s given purchase and he dips it inside, exploring every inch of Chanyeol’s mouth like it’ll slip away from him.
He’s greedy. He wants this. He needs this.
Chanyeol holds Jongin’s hips to steady himself, but Jongin feels reckless, and before he knows it, he’s pushing Chanyeol down onto the couch, the latter falling clumsy onto the cushions and dragging Jongin with him.
“Wow,” Chanyeol breathes out, lips a lush shade of red. “This is just like old times.”
Jongin’s breathless, but still manages a groan in response. “Don’t ruin this by talking. Please.”
Chanyeol begins to laugh, but it’s cut off as Jongin captures the rest with his lips as he climbs atop Chanyeol’s body, hands coming up to rest on his cheeks. Chanyeol doesn’t seem to want Jongin to handle all of the work as he brings his hands up along Jongin’s back, dragging along the button up so it bunches at his armpits.
Jongin takes the cue and breaks away, straightening his back to give Chanyeol a better view. The hardness straining inside of Chanyeol’s jeans does not go unnoticed against Jongin’s thighs. One by one, he slowly undoes the buttons of his shirt, knowing full well how painful it is for Chanyeol to watch. When it came to sex, Chanyeol was always notoriously impatient.
By the third button, Chanyeol growls, annoyed, and he pulls apart the shirt quickly, buttons flying off and bouncing to parts unknown.
“Hey-” His voice trails off when Chanyeol switches their positions, settling underneath his body, flushed with sweat. Chanyeol wastes no time leaning in and licking a long trail up Jongin’s neck, tasting the sweet expanse of skin and it has Jongin keening, arching off of the couch.
A smug smirk plastered on his face, Chanyeol takes this moment to move onto his chest, sucking sweet marks here and there, kisses that are meant to last. Moments that he wants Jongin to remember. Each one elicits a soft moan from Jongin’s lips and it’s everything Chanyeol wants.
Nipping at Jongin’s shoulder, Chanyeol drags his tongue along golden skin until he meets a nipple, teasing it with a few flicks that only pull out groans from Jongin. Chanyeol moves on to giving it a harsh suck with his lips and the groans start melting into moans. When the first nipple finally hardens, Chanyeol moves onto the second one and gives it the same treatment.
“Chanyeol.” Jongin’s body shudders, and his hands are moving all over Chanyeol’s body, searching for anything to hold onto.
Amusement fills Chanyeol’s smile as he quickly sheds his own shirt, much faster than Jongin. He doesn’t believe in the magic of seduction. His breathing is uneven when he leans back down to continue tasting every inch of Jongin’s skin. From how Jongin’s chest rises quickly with each breath, he’s just as gone.
“We should uh, we should,” Jongin tries, in between moans before he manages a, “Bed.”
Thankfully, the bedroom is only a few steps away, not that Jongin noticed with the way he practically swallowed every breath out of Chanyeol on their way in. A zipper is undone at some point, and pants are being shed, warm air tickling along his thighs and being a wondrous invite for his erection. With a gentle push, his back meets the mattress and his pants are quickly slipped off his legs.
“You look, well, better than last time,” Chanyeol notes as he quickly unzips his own pants. His dick is practically straining to break free from his underwear, pushing proudly at attention.
Jongin squints. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing babe,” Chanyeol’s voice drops until it’s dripping with the same sultry tone from their first time.
“Please don’t call me that.”
Bodies are flush against one another, skin against skin, legs tangled and hands roaming along to memorize everything. When Chanyeol flips them over, Jongin takes his turn to color Chanyeol’s skin with his own marks, sucking along his neck, his chest, anywhere he can reach.
“Babe-”
Jongin glares up at Chanyeol’s face and it’s delight he sees staring back at him. At this, Jongin trails his tongue lower, across the dips and valleys of Chanyeol’s stomach until it catches on his navel. Dipping it inside, he relishes the shivers that run over Chanyeol’s body, and continues licking along the hole before pressing his lips over and sucking.
Chanyeol keens in a pitch higher than anything Jongin’s ever heard from him and he’s laughing. He wants to make Chanyeol make that sound again.
The tent in Chanyeol’s underwear has only gotten bigger, so Jongin moves a hand down to palm his erection through the material, soft noises sputtering out of Chanyeol’s mouth. His own dick is starting to throb as well, and he starts to rut against the mattress, hips moving in controlled movements.
Arousal. It’s burning deep inside his stomach and sinking its painful claws in his lungs.
Jongin licks along his happy trail before resting his lip at the edge of Chanyeol’s underwear. With a swift tug, Chanyeol’s cock springs free, the hem of his underwear catching against the flare of his head and drawing a yelp.
It’s been a while since Jongin’s seen Chanyeol’s dick in all its glory, every single inch more delicious than the next. It’s all pink skin leading up to a head that’s glistening with precum. A vein stretches prominent along the underside and Jongin briefly wonders if that’s illegal.
“What are you waiting for?” Chanyeol asks, voice shaky. Familiar words, familiar line. It echoes inside of Jongin’s memories.
“It’s so big,” Jongin says, also familiar.
Chanyeol reaches over to caress Jongin’s cheek with a hand. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
Gentle strokes. With a careful hand, Jongin wets his fingers with the precum at the tip before sliding it down the shaft. Wet heat, torturous. Chanyeol rolls his head back. Jongin picks up the pace once it starts to grow and he quickly slides plush lips over the crown. Dropping his jaw wider, Jongin slowly slides more of the girth into his mouth, savoring the swirl of saliva and precum.
He starts to bob, flattening his tongue on the underside and relishing in the little praises that Chanyeol pants out. Slurping noises mix with vulgarities, in between harder and keep going. Picking up the pace, Jongin starts becoming more obscene, sucking harshly with each movement to draw out more noises.
“J-Jong-” A sharp cry catches inside of his teeth as he tries to buck up into Jongin’s throat, causing him to gag at the sudden deepthroating.
Placing a hand at either side of Chanyeol’s hips, Jongin resumes his previous torture, slipping his lips off of the top with a loud pop before dragging his tongue along the underside, dipping it inside of the slit when he reaches the head. Precum starts budding inside and Jongin happily laps it all up before slipping the length back into his mouth.
Hollowing his cheeks, Jongin continues sucking with each bob, pleasure slowly becoming too much for Chanyeol. “Wait, wait,” he starts, attempting his warnings. “Jongin I can’t-” He doesn’t know how much longer he can last. The sensation is growing in his loins and building deep inside of him. He can’t hold out if Jongin continues.
“Fuck! Jongin!” Chanyeol taps against Jongin’s cheek, but Jongin just slides along the length until his lips meet Chanyeol’s crotch and sucks. “Shit!” It’s a liquid suction too much for Chanyeol to handle and the only warning signs he can give to Jongin is the weak attempt at pushing at his shoulders.
It doesn’t work.
Chanyeol comes with a roar, mattress shaking mercilessly as his entire body convulses. Thick semen spills deep inside of Jongin’s mouth and he drinks it all up, throat bobbing with each gulp as Chanyeol cants his release into him. Salty. Chanyeol’s taste. It sticks inside of Jongin’s mouth, and he only continues to pump more out of him.
“Jongin,” Chanyeol says weakly, peeking down to try and meet his gaze. Only Jongin hasn’t stopped. “Jongin.”
His lips glide back up the shaft, but stop near the head, where he continues to suck. Chanyeol’s starting to see white.
“JONGIN!” He sucks like his life depends on it, milking Chanyeol for everything he’s worth. “FUCK-”
The overstimulation proves too much and a barbaric scream spills out of Chanyeol’s mouth. Completely dry, Chanyeol’s hips stutter as they slow to a stop, chest heaving heavy breaths in between gulps of air. Coming off with a pop, Jongin licks his lips and surveys his work. Sweat trickles down Chanyeol’s forehead, trailing down his neck and Jongin thinks he looks best like this.
Wrecked, and all because of him.
“Why did you do that?” Chanyeol whines, and it’s like him to whine at a time like this.
Jongin shrugs. “I thought I’d give you what you gave me.”
After a few short breaths, Chanyeol bursts into laughter and nearly knocks Jongin off with the way his limbs thrash about. “I’ll give it to you Jongin. That was a good one.”
“I think so,” Jongin says. “Get some rest.”
His tone is final, and with that, he takes his own advice, sliding up alongside Chanyeol, who’s already starting to fall asleep. Warm arms come to wrap around his torso and he can feel Chanyeol pressing up against him, warmth he never wants to let go. His fingers dance along Chanyeol’s hands before he lulls himself to sleep.
Just like that, the pieces are slowly slotting together, and his heart starts to beat again.
13:10 PM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
Jongin stirs out of his dreams to the sound of gentle rustling from bed.
“Oh, you’re awake.” The voice sounds despondent. After a moment to catch his bearings, Jongin notes Chanyeol sounds despondent.
“Of course I’m awake,” Jongin croaks as he rises from the bed, sheets sliding off his torso like fresh silk. The smell of sex is still in the air. Chanyeol’s standing near the nightstand, fully clothed, and at this, Jongin raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
Chanyeol sighs. “I’m leaving.”
This makes Jongin’s eyes flutter open. “What?”
“I can’t do this,” Chanyeol says meekly. “Whatever, this, is.” He motions over himself and Jongin, and the weight drops like a stone in placid waters. Shallow, yet again.
“So what, are you just going to run away like before?” Jongin doesn’t want to sound so defensive, but he feels he has a right to be. It’s just like old time indeed. He can’t go through the pain a second time. He runs a hand over the memories from last night, memories that threaten to scar him like the first time.
Chanyeol’s shoulders slump. “It’s what I’m best at. Running away from my problems. Acting like they don’t exist just to keep living. Kind of ironic isn’t it?” Choppy laughter. Old Chanyeol.
Nothing’s changed. Jongin can’t let it end like this.
“Stop running,” Jongin says desperately. “Stay.”
“But what if I can’t?”
Jongin furrows his eyebrows. “At least try?” He pleads, and it echoes against the lonely walls.
Chanyeol glances up to meet Jongin’s eyes and this time, Jongin can see his emotions clearly. There’s no hiding the pain laid open for all to see. The sadness that lines his eyes with tears. “But what if I can’t?” Each word leaves like a freight train, crashing through the walls Jongin tried so hard to build in his absence.
He doesn’t want to return to that time.
“Try.” Jongin draws in a deep breath. “For me.”
Chanyeol lolls his head back and closes his eyes. “Okay. For you. Us.” It’s quiet, but it’s there. A reassurance. A promise. Jongin takes it and holds it against his heart, rebuilding what was once lost. Chanyeol takes as well-taking Jongin’s breath away with his lips, taking away the pain with each whisper, taking away a lifetime of running.
There isn’t a lot of talking that day, but Jongin’s never felt closer to Chanyeol than he has now.
11:47 AM, 24 December 2014 (UTC)
“Are you ready to head home?” Jongin asks, sipping on the overpriced coffee they serve at the airport. They’re flight doesn’t leave for a while, so Jongin’s been taking Chanyeol around to just waste time. “I know you said you don’t really have plans, but I think my folk would be happy to have you as a guest.”
“Really?” Chanyeol lips quirk into a smile. “I’m sure they’ll love me. I’m a good son.”
Jongin rolls his eyes before checking his watch. “Are you okay?” He asks quieter.
“I think so,” Chanyeol replies. “It’s funny. This isn’t how I imagined every spending my holidays, but I guess I should be making up for how I acted in the past. To myself and to you.”
“That almost sounded sincere.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Thanks, my one attempt at an apology and you shoot it down.”
“It isn’t like you,” Jongin titters. “Thank you. This is good. This is trying. I should try to.” The record on his camera is still on, and Jongin glances down at the lens before returning to Chanyeol. “I’m going to try and be a more filial son. My family, they gave up a lot on me. I should be thanking them for this opportunity.”
Chanyeol raises his glass in cheer. “I guess we’re all trying then.” His eyes stretch into crescents as he takes a sip. “So, have you gotten any inspiration for your new film?”
Jongin pauses before a smile takes over. “It looks like I have.”
Chanyeol’s lips stretch into a knowing smirk. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Jongin hums, and taps the side of his camera fondly.
Title: final approach
Pairing: Jongin/Chanyeol
Word Count: ~6,000 words
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual content (swallowing, overstimulation)
Summary: A cancelled flight delivers Jongin the answers he never knew he was searching for.
Author's Note: So this has been a trip! First off, I want to thank my prompter for the amazing prompts! Seriously, I literally cycled through all of the prompts because I loved them so much! As a result, this fic has evolved in many different ways, so elements from previous drafts made it in. I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful time reading and thank you again! ^ o ^
02:00 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
Due to extreme weather conditions, Flight 222 to Incheon, South Korea has been cancelled until further notice. We apologize for any inconveniences that this may-”
Jongin tunes out the rest of the announcement after he picks up a few key words with his limited grasp on English. Incheon. Cancelled. When he looks up, the sign blinks red when the word CANCELLED appears in his flight’s status. Taking a deep breath in, Jongin slowly exhales his worries into the winter air.
No use worrying anymore when the truth is laid out for him, cold and bare.
Quietly, he separates himself from the mass of angry tourists gathered near the check-in, in favor of a seat near the glass windows of the terminal, ignoring the few glances he’s given from the elderly and teenagers alike. It’s as if these people have never met a Korean in their life. From his time spent here in New York, Jongin firmly believes that many of them have in fact, never met anyone from overseas.
Setting his camera down on the seat beside him, Jongin takes a peek at the city lights outside. Bright whites and yellows illuminate the snowfall, decorating a canvas of black and blue. It’s beautiful, like a scene from a movie, and Jongin wishes he was watching it from his room back home.
It was meant to be a cheerful winter break for him, celebrating his positive exam marks with his family back at home. We’re so proud of you, his sisters congratulated him on Kakaotalk, and together, they made plans for a bit of a celebration when he got back to Seoul. Fishing his phone from his pocket, Jongin quickly sends off the bad news to his family.
But it’s the holidays Jonginnie ;;
They’re upset, and Jongin feels guilty because he’d been looking forward to seeing them after spending so much time here in the states. Homesickness. It used to be something that Jongin laughed off because he could always call his family or even chat with them from his webcam. When he first boarded that flight from Incheon to New York, he felt free from a gilded cage of tradition.
I know, I’m sorry. Please tell mom and dad I love them and I’ll try to get home as soon as I can.
But then the loneliness started to settle in. That creeping feeling of alienation in an unknown city, with no one to talk to and strangers at every corner. At first it meant nothing to Jongin as he buried himself in his studies and film projects. But then he started to miss his family. His friends. He started to miss what was familiar to him.
He could always talk to them through messages, text, but it wasn’t enough. Isn’t enough.
Even now, Jongin’s fingers tremble as they type each word out. The small chime from Kakao startles him as he slips out of his thoughts, and with a quick slide of his finger, he moves on from the chat to fumble around with his Youtube favorites.
He’s going to try to enjoy his time here.
02:25 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
In between funny cat videos and obscure cooking tutorials, Jongin notices a line queueing up near the check-in. The staff near the counter seem to be pointing in different directions, leading families, couples, and single tourists to their destinations. A family passes by him on their way to the gift shop, and it’s then Jongin realizes that he has to find a place to stay for the night.
English was never his strongest suit and he dreads the struggle that is sure to come from his desperation-the only reason he made it to the airport is through perseverance and a successful game of charades.
“Ex... cuse...” Jongin practices under his breath, mustering up the few words he can recall. “Place... stay.”
The snow’s tapping harder against the windows and Jongin briefly wonders if the airport would allow him to just sleep here in the lobby for the night. His answers are given through demonstration as a few people start to nest on the seats throughout the terminal. Blankets are thrown haphazardly over bodies, and pillows are brought out and passed around. There are even a few tents being erected near the windows.
Jongin’s about to ask one of the staff for an extra blanket before a voice catches his attention.
“It’s alright mom. Tell her I said hi.”
It isn’t through the tone or the feel that keeps him anchored, but through the language. Korean. Jongin almost missed the sweet familiarity in its sound and it sparks a warmth inside of him as he turns to try and converse with the owner. The small feeling of happiness he had growing inside of him is quickly extinguished when recognition supplies him with a name.
Park Chanyeol.
Bright smiles, intoxicating invites, naked skin. Heated kisses, slender fingers, choked moans. An empty escape. A downward spiral.
For Jongin, Park Chanyeol is literally six feet of lingering emotions and unanswered calls, framed with absolutely delicious nights of sex and quick fucks in bathroom stalls. In other words-a very real pain in his ass. Chanyeol’s the last person Jongin wants to see right now, and he hopes that if he turns away quick enough, Chanyeol will just move on by and not even recognize him. It’s happened before.
“Kim Jongin?”
Chanyeol’s voice is still as charming as the first time Jongin heard it, and his name is just as enticing as the first time it rolled off of Chanyeol’s tongue, when Jongin rolled his hips into him in his lust. It makes Jongin feel weak, and he doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He has more important things to worry about, like the fact that he should be getting some sleep right now because of his cancelled flight.
“Jongin is that you?” Chanyeol’s voice is teasing and it’s infuriating because Jongin wants him to continue talking. He wants to keep hearing his voice.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Jongin replies quietly, turning around so he can curl up on the seat.
“I think you do.” A thump from behind tells Jongin that Chanyeol’s taken a seat next to him, and he can feel Chanyeol’s eyes watching him, tracing his body like he always does. “Jongin.” Chanyeol’s voice drops to a whisper, and it’s not fair. Chanyeol has a way of just appearing out of fucking nowhere and slipping back into Jongin’s life like nothing happened.
“I don’t know you.”
Chanyeol chuckles, low and deep. “Is this any way of treating an old friend?”
“We’re not friends,” Jongin says flatly.
Chanyeol draws himself closer to Jongin until his breath tickles his ear. “Aren’t we?”
His relationship with Chanyeol ceased being anything more than acquaintances the moment Chanyeol left him alone in the morning, without a single goodbye to hold the pieces of his heart. They swim in shallow waters, but only Jongin seems to be sinking.
It’s Jongin’s own undoing, falling for something that was meant to be nothing.
“You’re an asshole,” Jongin turns around with a plastic smile, his nose barely brushing against Chanyeol’s. “Do you really have the right to ask that right now?”
Chanyeol grins, amused. “I think I do.” His eyes are bright, inviting. Apathetic.
They haven’t changed. Jongin has.
“I think you’re full of shit,” Jongin replies quickly before scooting a seat over.
As if performing choreography, Chanyeol follows him without missing a beat. “So what are you doing here? I heard you were taking a trip back to the motherland for the winter break.” His eyes glance over to the windows, crinkling into crescents after a few seconds. “Don’t tell me your flight was cancelled.”
His voices sounds happy? Happier? Dick.
“It was,” Jongin says. He sees no need to waste energy on lies. Chanyeol has a way of coaxing out truths one way or another. “Why are you here?”
A sound of delight escapes Chanyeol’s throat as he throws his head back. “It just so happens, my plane has been cancelled as well. I guess we’re both stranded here in the West for the night.”
“You sound pleased.”
“The US isn’t that bad,” Chanyeol admits. He quickly slips into English with ease, irritatingly so with all of the pompous theatrics Jongin remembers him for, and it has Jongin freezing up in his seat because he can only understand every fifth word Chanyeol’s saying.
Chanyeol’s always been talented in learning, more than Jongin would like to admit. Perhaps it was that level of determination that made Jongin fall for him the first time, the way Chanyeol wouldn’t back down from any challenge given to him. The way Chanyeol sought to prove himself on camera, and even harder off of it.
“Why are you doing this?” Jongin asks, with thinly veiled annoyance.
“English is fun,” Chanyeol says, face full of mirth. “There’s just something about being bilingual that’s just-”
“I meant,” Jongin cuts him off. “Why are you still talking to me? After...” Jongin screws his eyes shut and curls up tighter in his seat, too tired to revisit old battle scars. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
To Jongin’s surprise, Chanyeol actually remains quiet, choosing not to pry further like he usually does.
03:11 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
How’s your filming coming along? ^^
Jongin smiles at his sister’s text and quickly replies with his progress. He recently filmed a short film with his colleague Kyungsoo, an engaging (in his eyes) tale about a would-be murderer falling for one of the men he’d be training against.
He has to give the best compliments to his friend. Do Kyungsoo has a way with perfecting murderous stares that it just seemed right casting him for that role.
The small group of people he showed his preview to also agree with his sentiments. However, while they complimented him on the excellent choice of cast, they had a few choice words for his script, mainly with how the resolution didn’t seem to pan well within the world he established. Admittedly, there’s been a recent glaring lack of creativity in his work.
He blames it on the massive amount of late night studying he endured in the past few months, but he knows the truth isn’t so cut and dry.
His plots have become dull. Predictable. They’re starting to lose that spark that fueled his muse when he first picked up a camera. The first time he pushed record and created magic.
You know me. it’s going well. I’ll show you guys a preview when I come home.
He isn’t strong enough to let his family know the truth, because filming was one of the major reasons he came to the states in the first place. It was a major factor in the fuss he made over their decision. A new environment, new sights, new people. Like a child given his first toy, Jongin wanted to capture it all on film. To show everyone back home that this was his calling.
This was what he was meant to do in life.
But lately, he’s been doubting himself.
That small, creeping voice in the back of his head reminding him what he gave up to be here. He could’ve followed in his sisters’ footsteps and enrolled in the university they attended, studied law and make a nice living for himself. He could be close to his family, in both distance and unity. Image.
That isn’t what he wanted though. He couldn’t see himself caged in such a depressing lifestyle, away from the privilege of independence. He liked making his own choices. He enjoys being able to set his own goals and creating his own little niche in the world. Art.
He reminds himself that it’s worth the struggle.
“Jongin?”
But sometimes there are bumps in the road that are too hard to ignore, and for Jongin, they all begin with Park Chanyeol.
03:32 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
“So do you have any plans for today?” Chanyeol asks.
Casual banter. Chanyeol was never one for silence, always the one to lead the conversations, and Jongin was always happy to follow his lead. This time is no different and Jongin allows himself to be led into the shallow waters.
“Not anymore,” Jongin hums. After a beat, he peeks over. “What about you?”
A grunt. “Maybe.” His voice is eager. There’s a deeper meaning to his answer and Jongin knows full well what Chanyeol’s trying to get at. The game he’s trying to play. “The morning is still young. New York thrives during these hours anyways...” His voice trails off, easy bait.
Jongin doesn’t take it, choosing to stay quiet.
“Is this a new camera?” Chanyeol continues, undeterred. “I figured you’d still be into filming. It’s just like you.”
When he tries to reach for it, Jongin stops his hand quickly with his own. Their fingers brush softly and it’s then Jongin realizes he’s made a mistake. He stumbles in the water. Heat. It licks along his skin and from the way Chanyeol breathes louder, it hasn’t gone unnoticed, not with how his eyes linger on Jongin’s hand like it’s something he’s been missing for years.
Jongin pulls back first, taking the camera with him. Chanyeol keeps his hand stretched forward, caught in a moment he doesn’t want to forget. “It’s just like you,” he repeats, before a smile stretches across his face. “You haven’t changed.”
“You’re the one who hasn’t changed,” Jongin fires back, but there’s a considerable lack of venom to it.
This tickles Chanyeol. “If you say so.” This time his eyes linger on Jongin’s, and a mix of emotions briefly flicker across their reflection.
Regret is what Jongin notices, and it pulls him in deeper.
“Have you filmed anything new?” Chanyeol asks as he leans back in his seat. “Is it still the same pseudo-dystopian stuff you were so fond of back-”
“I haven’t,” Jongin interrupts. “Filmed anything recently. It’s... complicated.” He’d explain it further but Chanyeol is no one he needs to explain anything to.
Chanyeol seems content with the simple answer and settles in further. “Shame. I love watching you work.”
Jongin snorts. “Is this a come-on?”
“It’s a compliment,” Chanyeol teases. “Although it’s all the same to you I suppose.”
Jongin’s cheeks darken with pink and he decides he’s spent enough time here in the airport. It’s late. He’s getting tired of waiting for something, anything, to pull him out of this vapid conversation.
“I have to go,” Jongin says as he starts to collect his belongings.
“So soon?” Chanyeol looks crestfallen, but it isn’t as effective on Jongin this time. “I... I thought we were catching up.” This however, does catch Jongin off-guard. Defrosts him. The tremble in Chanyeol’s voice. The slight tremor in his lips. It’s nothing like the Chanyeol Jongin sacrificed hours of studying on.
“I...” he starts, unsure of how to voice his thoughts.
“Why don’t I come with you?” Chanyeol asks, tone buoyant. There’s weights on Jongin’s ankles, and just like that, he’s sinking. “Like old times?”
Jongin couldn’t say yes fast enough.
04:37 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
The streets are quiet as they walk, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Snow blankets the city in a cocoon of majesty and Jongin catches it all on film.
They pass by Christmas shops, peeking inside the windows to the stockings and holidays cards, and the occasional group of carolers, Chanyeol joining in happily each time with honeyed words. A voice of many talents. Jongin captures it all, memorizes it.
Chanyeol will sometimes slink a hand around Jongin’s shoulders absentmindedly, and it will just rest there, grasping at his side. It’s familiar, and Jongin doesn’t bat an eyelash at it. Chanyeol takes his nonchalance as an open invitation and pulls him in close, familiarizing himself with Jongin’s warmth, and Jongin with Chanyeol’s.
He’s amused by how much he’s missed this.
“It isn’t easy, when you’re auditioning for lackluster roles,” Chanyeol comments sadly. “There aren’t that many roles for the average Asian actor that don’t include comic relief or something related to martial arts. Background fodder. It sucks.”
Jongin hums in agreement. He knows the industry. The hurdles. “We just have to keep at it.”
“But how long will this dry spell last?” Chanyeol continues. “I’m considering hitting up theater work.”
“You? In a musical? I can’t see it.”
Chanyeol pulls him in harder, and it has Jongin poking at his side with a few fingers. “Hey! Thanks for the vote of confidence. I might just audition for a role just to prove you wrong.”
Jongin ignores him for the much more interesting holiday lights wrapped around the lampposts. Christmas is a tradition here in the West that Jongin’s gotten more accustomed to after all of the commercials and billboard signs he saw promoting the holiday. It’s commercialism at its finest, but the amount of happiness that radiates off of everyone has Jongin feeling the Christmas, spirit, so to speak.
“Are you doing anything for Christmas?” Jongin asks lightly.
Chanyeol’s grip eases up. “Not particularly. Might spend a few nights at Hongdae. Drink. Party. Meet up with a few old friends.” His grip grows tighter. “My family has other plans so they can’t meet up with me. It’s fine though, I’m used to it.” It’s there, the same Chanyeol from before and Jongin wants more of this side of him. “What about you?”
“It’s nothing big,” Jongin answers. “Just a small get together with my family.”
“Ah, but it’s these simple things that mean the most.” Chanyeol says wistfully. “The moments that stick with you.”
This time Jongin pulls Chanyeol in closer, and here, he can feel how loudly Chanyeol’s heart beats inside him.
05:02 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
“It’s just a small townhouse my friend lent me over the holidays,” Chanyeol explains as he fishes for the keys from his pocket. “He’s gone away on a holiday trip.”
It wasn’t easy, but Chanyeol managed to convince Jongin to stay with him for the night. Against all warning signs firing off inside of his head, Jongin agrees if only because he has no one to turn to for the evening. Chanyeol is still the closest person Jongin has to a friend at this hour, and it’s much better than staying alone at the airport with a sea of strangers.
“Don’t mind the mess,” Chanyeol says as he leads Jongin inside.
The room is minimalist by design and immaculate. Intimate. Not a flower vase or painting out of place. A sniff in the air and this, Jongin thinks, this must be what money smells like. An old theory pops back into his head, and he secretly wonders if Chanyeol really is a chaebol prince and that his stay here in the states is just a way for him to kill time.
“Do you want me to hang my coat anywhere?” Jongin asks.
Chanyeol points over to a closet before walking further in. As Jongin sets his coat away, a photo catches his eyes and upon closer inspection, he notices Chanyeol in the frame.
“It’s my friend from university,” Chanyeol says as he throws his peacoat inside the closet, being careful not to brush against Jongin. “Oh Sehun. A real smartass but he’s a good kid when you get to know him.”
“Rich kids flock together?” Jongin asks as he shuffles into the living room. Gently, he sets his camera down on the coffee table, avoiding the basket of fruit in the center.
A peal of laughter. “Unlike him though, I don’t just stick with that crowd. Too strict if you ask me.”
Chanyeol had a certain way of carrying himself. It was odd. It’s clear Chanyeol’s life was built around rules, built around the one fact that image is what matters the most. But he lacked any sort of rigidness that came with such a lifestyle. He was playful, energetic. Careless.
It’s like he wants to shed his image away, ripping apart skin and bone until only his soul was what everyone would see.
“I would never have guessed you were part of the upper class,” Jongin jests. “That’s a compliment by the way.”
“First one of the day. I like this progress.”
Jongin laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me.”
It’s too quick. Scorch marks burn across Jongin’s heart and he feels the tension in the air. Chanyeol seems aware as well, with the way his eyes widen before he leans in close to Jongin.
Chanyeol is sinking as well.
“I guess you really haven’t changed,” Chanyeol notes, lust drifting over his eyes.
Jongin doesn’t fight back this time. “Neither have you.”
“By the way,” Chanyeol breathes, his face inches away from Jongin’s.” That is a come-on.”
05:05 AM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
When Chanyeol leans down to kiss him, Jongin meets him halfway, bringing up a hand to pull him in close. Their lips mesh together roughly, but it doesn’t matter to them. This was long overdue. Jongin kisses with fervor, dragging his tongue over Chanyeol’s lips until he’s given purchase and he dips it inside, exploring every inch of Chanyeol’s mouth like it’ll slip away from him.
He’s greedy. He wants this. He needs this.
Chanyeol holds Jongin’s hips to steady himself, but Jongin feels reckless, and before he knows it, he’s pushing Chanyeol down onto the couch, the latter falling clumsy onto the cushions and dragging Jongin with him.
“Wow,” Chanyeol breathes out, lips a lush shade of red. “This is just like old times.”
Jongin’s breathless, but still manages a groan in response. “Don’t ruin this by talking. Please.”
Chanyeol begins to laugh, but it’s cut off as Jongin captures the rest with his lips as he climbs atop Chanyeol’s body, hands coming up to rest on his cheeks. Chanyeol doesn’t seem to want Jongin to handle all of the work as he brings his hands up along Jongin’s back, dragging along the button up so it bunches at his armpits.
Jongin takes the cue and breaks away, straightening his back to give Chanyeol a better view. The hardness straining inside of Chanyeol’s jeans does not go unnoticed against Jongin’s thighs. One by one, he slowly undoes the buttons of his shirt, knowing full well how painful it is for Chanyeol to watch. When it came to sex, Chanyeol was always notoriously impatient.
By the third button, Chanyeol growls, annoyed, and he pulls apart the shirt quickly, buttons flying off and bouncing to parts unknown.
“Hey-” His voice trails off when Chanyeol switches their positions, settling underneath his body, flushed with sweat. Chanyeol wastes no time leaning in and licking a long trail up Jongin’s neck, tasting the sweet expanse of skin and it has Jongin keening, arching off of the couch.
A smug smirk plastered on his face, Chanyeol takes this moment to move onto his chest, sucking sweet marks here and there, kisses that are meant to last. Moments that he wants Jongin to remember. Each one elicits a soft moan from Jongin’s lips and it’s everything Chanyeol wants.
Nipping at Jongin’s shoulder, Chanyeol drags his tongue along golden skin until he meets a nipple, teasing it with a few flicks that only pull out groans from Jongin. Chanyeol moves on to giving it a harsh suck with his lips and the groans start melting into moans. When the first nipple finally hardens, Chanyeol moves onto the second one and gives it the same treatment.
“Chanyeol.” Jongin’s body shudders, and his hands are moving all over Chanyeol’s body, searching for anything to hold onto.
Amusement fills Chanyeol’s smile as he quickly sheds his own shirt, much faster than Jongin. He doesn’t believe in the magic of seduction. His breathing is uneven when he leans back down to continue tasting every inch of Jongin’s skin. From how Jongin’s chest rises quickly with each breath, he’s just as gone.
“We should uh, we should,” Jongin tries, in between moans before he manages a, “Bed.”
Thankfully, the bedroom is only a few steps away, not that Jongin noticed with the way he practically swallowed every breath out of Chanyeol on their way in. A zipper is undone at some point, and pants are being shed, warm air tickling along his thighs and being a wondrous invite for his erection. With a gentle push, his back meets the mattress and his pants are quickly slipped off his legs.
“You look, well, better than last time,” Chanyeol notes as he quickly unzips his own pants. His dick is practically straining to break free from his underwear, pushing proudly at attention.
Jongin squints. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing babe,” Chanyeol’s voice drops until it’s dripping with the same sultry tone from their first time.
“Please don’t call me that.”
Bodies are flush against one another, skin against skin, legs tangled and hands roaming along to memorize everything. When Chanyeol flips them over, Jongin takes his turn to color Chanyeol’s skin with his own marks, sucking along his neck, his chest, anywhere he can reach.
“Babe-”
Jongin glares up at Chanyeol’s face and it’s delight he sees staring back at him. At this, Jongin trails his tongue lower, across the dips and valleys of Chanyeol’s stomach until it catches on his navel. Dipping it inside, he relishes the shivers that run over Chanyeol’s body, and continues licking along the hole before pressing his lips over and sucking.
Chanyeol keens in a pitch higher than anything Jongin’s ever heard from him and he’s laughing. He wants to make Chanyeol make that sound again.
The tent in Chanyeol’s underwear has only gotten bigger, so Jongin moves a hand down to palm his erection through the material, soft noises sputtering out of Chanyeol’s mouth. His own dick is starting to throb as well, and he starts to rut against the mattress, hips moving in controlled movements.
Arousal. It’s burning deep inside his stomach and sinking its painful claws in his lungs.
Jongin licks along his happy trail before resting his lip at the edge of Chanyeol’s underwear. With a swift tug, Chanyeol’s cock springs free, the hem of his underwear catching against the flare of his head and drawing a yelp.
It’s been a while since Jongin’s seen Chanyeol’s dick in all its glory, every single inch more delicious than the next. It’s all pink skin leading up to a head that’s glistening with precum. A vein stretches prominent along the underside and Jongin briefly wonders if that’s illegal.
“What are you waiting for?” Chanyeol asks, voice shaky. Familiar words, familiar line. It echoes inside of Jongin’s memories.
“It’s so big,” Jongin says, also familiar.
Chanyeol reaches over to caress Jongin’s cheek with a hand. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
Gentle strokes. With a careful hand, Jongin wets his fingers with the precum at the tip before sliding it down the shaft. Wet heat, torturous. Chanyeol rolls his head back. Jongin picks up the pace once it starts to grow and he quickly slides plush lips over the crown. Dropping his jaw wider, Jongin slowly slides more of the girth into his mouth, savoring the swirl of saliva and precum.
He starts to bob, flattening his tongue on the underside and relishing in the little praises that Chanyeol pants out. Slurping noises mix with vulgarities, in between harder and keep going. Picking up the pace, Jongin starts becoming more obscene, sucking harshly with each movement to draw out more noises.
“J-Jong-” A sharp cry catches inside of his teeth as he tries to buck up into Jongin’s throat, causing him to gag at the sudden deepthroating.
Placing a hand at either side of Chanyeol’s hips, Jongin resumes his previous torture, slipping his lips off of the top with a loud pop before dragging his tongue along the underside, dipping it inside of the slit when he reaches the head. Precum starts budding inside and Jongin happily laps it all up before slipping the length back into his mouth.
Hollowing his cheeks, Jongin continues sucking with each bob, pleasure slowly becoming too much for Chanyeol. “Wait, wait,” he starts, attempting his warnings. “Jongin I can’t-” He doesn’t know how much longer he can last. The sensation is growing in his loins and building deep inside of him. He can’t hold out if Jongin continues.
“Fuck! Jongin!” Chanyeol taps against Jongin’s cheek, but Jongin just slides along the length until his lips meet Chanyeol’s crotch and sucks. “Shit!” It’s a liquid suction too much for Chanyeol to handle and the only warning signs he can give to Jongin is the weak attempt at pushing at his shoulders.
It doesn’t work.
Chanyeol comes with a roar, mattress shaking mercilessly as his entire body convulses. Thick semen spills deep inside of Jongin’s mouth and he drinks it all up, throat bobbing with each gulp as Chanyeol cants his release into him. Salty. Chanyeol’s taste. It sticks inside of Jongin’s mouth, and he only continues to pump more out of him.
“Jongin,” Chanyeol says weakly, peeking down to try and meet his gaze. Only Jongin hasn’t stopped. “Jongin.”
His lips glide back up the shaft, but stop near the head, where he continues to suck. Chanyeol’s starting to see white.
“JONGIN!” He sucks like his life depends on it, milking Chanyeol for everything he’s worth. “FUCK-”
The overstimulation proves too much and a barbaric scream spills out of Chanyeol’s mouth. Completely dry, Chanyeol’s hips stutter as they slow to a stop, chest heaving heavy breaths in between gulps of air. Coming off with a pop, Jongin licks his lips and surveys his work. Sweat trickles down Chanyeol’s forehead, trailing down his neck and Jongin thinks he looks best like this.
Wrecked, and all because of him.
“Why did you do that?” Chanyeol whines, and it’s like him to whine at a time like this.
Jongin shrugs. “I thought I’d give you what you gave me.”
After a few short breaths, Chanyeol bursts into laughter and nearly knocks Jongin off with the way his limbs thrash about. “I’ll give it to you Jongin. That was a good one.”
“I think so,” Jongin says. “Get some rest.”
His tone is final, and with that, he takes his own advice, sliding up alongside Chanyeol, who’s already starting to fall asleep. Warm arms come to wrap around his torso and he can feel Chanyeol pressing up against him, warmth he never wants to let go. His fingers dance along Chanyeol’s hands before he lulls himself to sleep.
Just like that, the pieces are slowly slotting together, and his heart starts to beat again.
13:10 PM, 23 December 2014 (UTC)
Jongin stirs out of his dreams to the sound of gentle rustling from bed.
“Oh, you’re awake.” The voice sounds despondent. After a moment to catch his bearings, Jongin notes Chanyeol sounds despondent.
“Of course I’m awake,” Jongin croaks as he rises from the bed, sheets sliding off his torso like fresh silk. The smell of sex is still in the air. Chanyeol’s standing near the nightstand, fully clothed, and at this, Jongin raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
Chanyeol sighs. “I’m leaving.”
This makes Jongin’s eyes flutter open. “What?”
“I can’t do this,” Chanyeol says meekly. “Whatever, this, is.” He motions over himself and Jongin, and the weight drops like a stone in placid waters. Shallow, yet again.
“So what, are you just going to run away like before?” Jongin doesn’t want to sound so defensive, but he feels he has a right to be. It’s just like old time indeed. He can’t go through the pain a second time. He runs a hand over the memories from last night, memories that threaten to scar him like the first time.
Chanyeol’s shoulders slump. “It’s what I’m best at. Running away from my problems. Acting like they don’t exist just to keep living. Kind of ironic isn’t it?” Choppy laughter. Old Chanyeol.
Nothing’s changed. Jongin can’t let it end like this.
“Stop running,” Jongin says desperately. “Stay.”
“But what if I can’t?”
Jongin furrows his eyebrows. “At least try?” He pleads, and it echoes against the lonely walls.
Chanyeol glances up to meet Jongin’s eyes and this time, Jongin can see his emotions clearly. There’s no hiding the pain laid open for all to see. The sadness that lines his eyes with tears. “But what if I can’t?” Each word leaves like a freight train, crashing through the walls Jongin tried so hard to build in his absence.
He doesn’t want to return to that time.
“Try.” Jongin draws in a deep breath. “For me.”
Chanyeol lolls his head back and closes his eyes. “Okay. For you. Us.” It’s quiet, but it’s there. A reassurance. A promise. Jongin takes it and holds it against his heart, rebuilding what was once lost. Chanyeol takes as well-taking Jongin’s breath away with his lips, taking away the pain with each whisper, taking away a lifetime of running.
There isn’t a lot of talking that day, but Jongin’s never felt closer to Chanyeol than he has now.
11:47 AM, 24 December 2014 (UTC)
“Are you ready to head home?” Jongin asks, sipping on the overpriced coffee they serve at the airport. They’re flight doesn’t leave for a while, so Jongin’s been taking Chanyeol around to just waste time. “I know you said you don’t really have plans, but I think my folk would be happy to have you as a guest.”
“Really?” Chanyeol lips quirk into a smile. “I’m sure they’ll love me. I’m a good son.”
Jongin rolls his eyes before checking his watch. “Are you okay?” He asks quieter.
“I think so,” Chanyeol replies. “It’s funny. This isn’t how I imagined every spending my holidays, but I guess I should be making up for how I acted in the past. To myself and to you.”
“That almost sounded sincere.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Thanks, my one attempt at an apology and you shoot it down.”
“It isn’t like you,” Jongin titters. “Thank you. This is good. This is trying. I should try to.” The record on his camera is still on, and Jongin glances down at the lens before returning to Chanyeol. “I’m going to try and be a more filial son. My family, they gave up a lot on me. I should be thanking them for this opportunity.”
Chanyeol raises his glass in cheer. “I guess we’re all trying then.” His eyes stretch into crescents as he takes a sip. “So, have you gotten any inspiration for your new film?”
Jongin pauses before a smile takes over. “It looks like I have.”
Chanyeol’s lips stretch into a knowing smirk. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Jongin hums, and taps the side of his camera fondly.