And a Partridge in a Pear Tree (1/10)
Title: And a Partridge in a Pear Tree (1/10)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: DooSeob, mentions of JoonHo, JunSeung, KiWoon, others
Summary: Twelve days are a long time
A/N: Well now. You guys must all be happy when I tell you that it's not going to be a one-shot, or a two-shot, or even a three-shot. It'll probably end up being a six-ish-shot or more because there's twelve days and depending on the lengths of each "day", I'll post one or two days in one shot, thus making six-ish-shots. ^-^ And really, this is like pure fluff. There is no plot. It's completely FWP because I love DooSeob so much, so feel free to drop out whenever you get bored since this is really just me stanning one of my favorite pairs EVAR.
Part 1 // Part 2
My true love gave to me
“You do know,” Yoseob says, as they lie in Doojoon’s bed, “that everyone’s calling this our honeymoon.”
“You do know,” Doojoon says back, “that it’s not like they’re wrong.”
Yoseob props himself up on an elbow, turning to the older boy his eyebrows raised. His face is just barely visible to the captain through the darkness. “We don’t have sex that often,” he remarks thoughtfully. “We didn’t do it tonight.”
“That’s because our bags are already packed and loaded in the cars so if we did have sex tonight, we wouldn’t have a change of underwear,” Doojoon says dryly.
“Oh,” Yoseob blinks, “right.”
“We have sex a lot, Yoseob-ah, just face it.” The older boy fluffs his pillow fiercely and turns to sleep on his other side, facing away from the goalie. It’s probably nearing half an hour past midnight and they have to be awake by six in order to reach the airport in time.
But then Doojoon feels heavy warmth climbing on top of his side, and he opens his eyes to see the outline of Yoseob with his elbows perched on Doojoon’s waist like birds on a windowsill. “What, hyung?” Yoseob says and even though Doojoon can’t see it, he can definitely hear the grin. “You sound kind of pissed about this. Are you just being a pansy about the fact that you can’t keep your hands off of me?”
Doojoon stares even though he knows that staring is useless because it’s too dark to see anything. “Oh my God,” he says. “Yoseob-ah, go to sleep.”
He watches Yoseob’s shoulders go up and down, and the younger boy pats Doojoon’s hip briskly. “Okay, hyung,” he says in a tone that is just begging for Doojoon to push him out of the bed and make him sleep on the floor. Without blankets. Or pillows. Or humanity. Yoseob lies back down, turns the opposite direction, and falls silent.
Silence is never good at times like these.
Silence leaves one to his thoughts.
His thoughts about whether or not Yang Yoseob is right even though he’s most likely not because there’s no way Yang Yoseob can be right about the fact that it’s Yoon Doojoon who can’t keep his hands off of the goalie instead of the other way around because Yoseob is definitely a sex fiend who’s taken over Doojoon’s purity and state of mental well being and Doojoon is clearly just the victim here and has nothing to do with the fact that they go at it like bunnies because it’s always-
“Yah,” Doojoon says quietly, turning around and facing the younger boy’s back. “Yah, Yang Yoseob.”
No response.
Doojoon kicks Yoseob’s leg under the blankets. “Yah,” he says, “I know you’re still awake, you asshole.”
Yoseob still doesn’t turn around, but the slender shoulders start trembling a little bit and Doojoon knows it’s because the bastard is laughing. “Yah-yah, yah, Yoseob-ah, I’m going to shove you out of the bed in four seconds if you don’t turn around and talk to your hyung.”
The goalie turns around then looking as wide awake as Doojoon knows the other boy has stayed the last few minutes because Yoseob is stupid and cunning like that and Doojoon hates him. “What’s up, hyung?”
“Rules,” Doojoon says flatly.
Yoseob’s face lights up to the extent that even through the darkness Doojoon can see the smile. “We’ll be at the resort for twelve days, right?” Yoseob says excitedly. “Let’s make it a twelve day bet with the loser having to let the winner copy all of his vacation homework and has to do whatever the winner wants to do until Lunar New Year.”
“It is like a month between New Year’s and Lunar New-“
“Pussy,” Yoseob says playfully. “It’s because you know that you’re hornier for me than I am for you.”
Doojoon’s mouth drops open. “I-I-I-not true.”
“Then prove it,” Yoseob says, and if they weren’t lying on their sides in bed, then the younger boy probably would’ve crossed his arms at this point and maybe kicked Doojoon’s shin just for emphasis.
Doojoon sighs because there is no getting around this, and the only way to get out of this now with his dignity and homework is to win. “Two points every time?”
“Let’s do it in fives,” Yoseob says. “I count better in multiples of five, so then it’ll be easier to tally it up at the end.”
“Fine,” Doojoon says and tries to inject as much hyung-finality as he can because he really wants to stop talking about this and go to sleep. “I hate you, by the way.” He turns back around and folds arms irately.
Yoseob laughs softly, and Doojoon feels thin arms slipping underneath his own-feels something burrowing gently between his shoulder blades, feels a body press up against his back. “That’s a shame, hyung,” he hears the goalie say playfully, “you know, considering I love you and all.”
“I hope you trip on one of your new snowboards.”
Twelve drummers drumming
Yang Yoseob: 0
Yoon Doojoon: 0
Yoseob wonders if there’s a medical procedure to reduce the size of one’s head. He knows that there’s a medical procedure to reduce the size of a woman’s breasts, so there probably is one to reduce the size of a person’s head because it’s not fair that some people have to go around lugging unbearable loads on their necks just because they had the misfortune to be born with it. More tragically, it’s not fair that some people’s boyfriends have to go around with unbearable loads on their shoulders just because they had the misfortune to be dating someone with the misfortune to be born with a head bigger than Lee Joon’s.
The goalie theorizes that maybe because his own face is so tiny, some greater force out there decided that if it put Yang Yoseob with Yoon Doojoon, the circumference of their heads would average each other out.
He’s tried multiple times to drop the captain’s oversized cranium onto the other side because it’s ridiculous that Doojoon claimed the window seat and still feels the need to sleep on Yoseob’s shoulder because that’s what the window is for. But clearly, even in a state of unconsciousness, Yoon Doojoon is a stubborn moron.
“Hyung,” Yoseob says finally because it’s nearing lunch and he sees the stewardesses approaching with the meal cart. “Hyung, fucking wake up-you killed my shoulder and I’m hungry.”
Doojoon’s eyebrows furrow slightly and he mumbles something incoherent into the skin of Yoseob’s collarbone.
If Doojoon were any other normal guy, Yoseob would tell him that it’s the hot stewardess that’s driving the cart towards them-the one with the pretty hair and big eyes-but Doojoon isn’t normal, Doojoon is off his rocker just like Joon is even though not to the stupid extent that Joon is. If Yoseob tells Doojoon that it’s the hot stewardess coming at them, the most he’d get out of the older boy is probably one eye open-and then that same eye closing back down seconds later.
“Hyung,” Yoseob says, “if you don’t wake up, I’m going to get Doori-noona to come over here.” He leaves out the fact that Yoon Doori, at the moment, is sounder asleep than her little brother. Her two friends, however, are trying very hard to make their stares towards Doojoon and Yoseob discreet-and failing quite terribly.
Doojoon groans and this time buries his face entirely in the crook of Yoseob’s neck. The younger boy feels warm breath against his skin and it’s only moments later that he feels moving lips against the underside of his jaw. He rolls his eyes. “Subtle,” he snorts. “And I told you that it doesn’t start until we land because I’m not having sex on a plane.”
The older boy pulls away, grinning and rubbing out the sleep from his eyes. “Who says I’m trying to start the bet?”
“I do, because I know you, and I know that you know the plane is your only chance of getting a head start because I know that you know the vibrations make me horny,” Yoseob says matter-of-factly.
Doojoon blinks and then reaches down to cup between Yoseob’s legs. He looks confusedly up at the smaller boy. The goalie merely smiles triumphantly. “How come you’re not hard? You’re always hard on planes.”
“Because I’m starving,” Yoseob says proudly. “I can’t get hard when the last thing I had to eat was two pieces of kimbab five hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Doojoon says dryly, “My only two pieces of kimbab.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Yoseob says, and pats his cheek.
When they land, it is appropriately and expectedly freezing and Doojoon’s sister and her friends are in a tizzy about getting snow in their hair (because snow melts and undoes the perfection that results from white hot heat and chemical products, as Jonghyun has told them after being told off by Kibum from getting particular bodily fluids into the first year’s hair, although the similarities between particular bodily fluids and snow, Doojoon still to this day hasn’t figured out).
It is appropriately and expectedly more freezing than it was in Korea which means that Yoseob will only stop complaining after he’s ensconced snugly under Doojoon’s arm the entire time they go through immigration and baggage-claim and finding the shuttle that will take them to their rich-and-swanky ski resort.
Not that Doojoon has any problems with this of course, because having Yoseob constantly needing to be attached to him just means that winning this bet will be that much easier-not that it’s not already going to be easy as pie as it should be because Yoseob is clearly hornier for Doojoon than Doojoon is for Yoseob.
Clearly.
Yoseob thinks that if Doojoon was any more obvious, he’d be Kim Jonghyun.
They are put in a cabin village decently close to the stations where the shuttles to and from the slopes dock every fifteen minutes. Yoseob and Doojoon get the slightly smaller cabin adjacent to the one Doori and her friends have because Doori is the noona after all, and it’s three people versus two which means that they need more space even though the cabin sizes are barely noticeable anyhow.
Their cabin has three floors with a theater in the basement, the kitchen and living room on the first floor, and the bedrooms and bathrooms on the third. Before the bet was made, they were only planning to occupy one bedroom because it’s not like they’ve slept in separate beds any time recently, but now that they are trying to get into each other’s pants for points, Yoseob supposes that it’d be in his own best interest to sleep in his own bed and his own room with his own bathroom.
He makes it as far as the kitchen before he sees Doojoon stripping off his many layers of clothing one by one until he’s just in sweatpants and a thin, long-sleeved shirt. Yoseob almost half-expects him to take the shirt off too because Doojoon is best friends with Joon who’s best friends with Jonghyun and that’s the kind of Neanderthal thing all those three would do. Because they clearly don’t understand that seduction is an art.
And Yoseob is Picasso.
Totally.
Doojoon, from the looks of how he’s now posing on the couch in what he probably thinks is a pose that will get Yoseob’s genitalia all in a tizzy, is a kindergartner who can’t stay inside the lines of a coloring book.
“That’s not sexy, hyung” Yoseob says, as he passes the older boy and heads upstairs to unpack his clothes.
He hears a sound of indignation and footsteps following him to the bedroom he’s decided will be his for the twelve days. “Who says I was trying to be sexy?” Doojoon says, sounding offended that his sexiness didn’t succeed in making Yoseob’s lust-o-meters burst.
“Hyung,” Yoseob says, motioning at his suitcase and Doojoon comes forward and lifts it onto the bed for him. The goalie steps forward and unzips the baggage. “I want this bet to be fun, so could you at least try not to be so stupid? If you keep this up, I’m just going to win again and I’m going to fail all my tests when we get back because I’ll be copying your homework.”
“I hate you,” Doojoon sighs, and commences to shuffle away a-la-Yong-Junhyung.
He commences to shuffle away, but not before Yoseob throws his arms around the captain’s waist, face buried into Doojoon’s back. The goalie can smell Doojoon’s skin, can feel glorious heat, just through the thin-thin-thin cloth of the shirt. “I keep thinking it’s such a shame you hate me,” Yoseob says, smiling to himself because he sees five points on the horizon. He feels Doojoon stiffen, and before it gets into debatable territory over who-started-it-and-thus-who-gets-the-points, Yoseob draws away and waits, arms at his sides.
Slowly, slowly, so slowly, Doojoon turns around and faces the other boy, expression somewhere between blank and vaguely horrified. Yoseob only has to direct his eyes a tiny bit southward to see exactly why Doojoon looks horrified because earlier that morning while they were waiting for departure, they’d established that it was whoever got hard first.
Yoseob explodes into laughter.
“Oh-my-God,” he gasps, arms around his stomach, easily seeing Doojoon’s horrified expression crystal clear even though his eyes are clenched tight in laughter and almost-tears because this is a moment that should be captured on camera and sent to Joon ASAP. “I just-you-can’t believe-hyung,” he says, opening his eyes blearily and almost falling again in laughter at the look on Doojoon’s face. “Hyung, you’re such a girl.”
“I hate you,” Doojoon repeats, taking steps toward Yoseob.
“Hyung,” Yoseob laughs, and puts his arms in the air accommodatingly, as Doojoon unzips Yoseob’s vest and lifting the smaller boy’s sweatshirt and shirt off in one swoop, before pulling his own shirt over his head. “Hyung-I gave you an erection just from a hug and Kim-Jonghyun-pick-up-lines.”
“It’s a minor one,” Doojoon explains irritably as his hands trace a path down from Yoseob’s bare shoulder blades, as his fingers hook themselves inside the smaller boy’s waistband, as his head is leaning down to trace paths with his tongue all over Yoseob’s pale neck. “It’s, like, the beginnings-“
Yoseob stoppers Doojoon’s arguments with his lips over the captain’s, twisting his neck and bringing Doojoon’s head away from the goalie’s neck, busying the older boy’s tongue away from Yoseob’s skin. He kisses and kisses and kisses Doojoon until Yoseob himself is starting to feel senseless and dazed and far too hot considering that they haven’t even turned the heater on and are on a mountain the Alps. He’s starting to feel far too hot and thinks that this must be the best bet ever if he gets points, homework, Doojoon’s dignity, and sex.
“It was, like, zero-point-two-five of an erection,” Doojoon says, still sounding like an ahjumma that has just been cheated out of a bargain sale on mackerel. He still sounds like an irate ahjumma even though they are lying on Yoseob’s bed, boneless and warm underneath the blankets precisely one and a half hours later from Yoseob’s five-point-acquisition.
Yoseob smiles, and buries himself closer into Doojoon’s side. He thinks that maybe he let the resort know that remote-controlled-heaters are the best ideas ever in resort-kind because he and Doojoon would have definitely frozen to death by now if they hadn’t either put clothes on or gotten up to turn on the heater-which requires putting on clothes first anyway, so it’s all just a lot of terrible.
“Hyung,” he says, “even if you could measure your erection in fractions, after that,” Yoseob gestures vaguely around their strewn clothes on the floor, and what ensued after they shed them, “I should get like fifteen points.”
Doojoon looks incredulous, but his arm shifts around Yoseob so that the smaller boy’s neck doesn’t stiffen as he lies against the captain. “Yah,” he says, “you and I both know that I’ve fucked you way harder than this, so don’t even try.”
Yoseob laughs and slaps Doojoon’s cheek gently-he sees the older boy grin in response out of the corner of his eye. “Still-five points for me,” he singsongs lightly, and holds one hand up in the air, fingers splayed.
Doojoon slowly brings his arm up right beside the younger boy’s, threading their fingers together so that their entwined hands reach towards the ceiling, displayed clearly in front of them. Yoseob lets their hands fall back against the blankets and he pulls his free arm across Doojoon’s chest, pushing the older boy to face towards him. Doojoon raises his eyebrows. “What?”
“Kiss me,” Yoseob says.
Doojoon grins again, and tilts his face in. “Five points and a kiss,” he says teasingly, “you’re fucking spoiled, Yang Yoseob.”
“And whose fault is that?” the goalie says right before his lips are covered.