Drabble Dump 10
title: not here
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: nc-17
length: 800w
Jongin attaches his lips to Kyungsoo’s neck before they’re even to the hallway, hands coming to grip hips and grind a growing erection into a pert ass. “Jongin, don’t,” Kyungsoo whines, but leans his head to the right to give him more access nonetheless. “My parents will be home in a little while.”
“So? I can make it quick,” he mutters, maneuvering around and kicking the door closest to him open and walking them in backwards.
“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo pants as a hand comes to rub him through his jeans, fingers burrowing into the skin of Jongin’s arm. “This isn’t my bedroom.”
“Then whose is it?”
“It’s my parent’s.”
“That’s even better,” Jongin grunts back, dropping him onto unfamiliar sheets and slowly crawling over him.
“What?”
“Think about it,” he lets his nose drag over Kyungsoo’s cheek, breath tickling sensitive skin. “You’re getting fucked by the boy your parents hate on their bed.” Jongin lets a tongue slide against his ear then down his jawline and the column of his throat. “Rebellion is sexy.”
Maybe it’s how cajoling his rough voice sounds, but it doesn’t take long until their clothes are littering the floor, Kyungsoo’s legs wrapped around Jongin’s waist and their cocks brushing. Their lips mesh and tongues tangle, heat trapped between them as beads of sweat roll down their bodies.
“I wonder if your dad has any lube and condoms,” Jongin says as soon as their mouths break apart, lurching forward to rummage through the drawer before coming back with a packet of tin foil and a small plastic bottle. “He does.”
Kyungsoo giggles, heat pooling in his belly and a sense of urgency running through them both as Jongins slick finger trails a line down his ass. One finger turns into two which turns into three, stretching Kyungsoo until he’s fucking himself down on the long digits and begging Jongin to hurry the hell up.
They make sure not to get any on the comforter, though, because although being a rebel is nice, being dead isn’t.
“Eager, are we?” He smirks at his small boyfriend, slowly retracting his fingers and it leaves Kyungsoo bucking his hips for more.
“Hurry,” Kyungsoo demands in reply, cock throbbing and in need of release.
It’s just the taboo feeling of fucking on a bed they’re not supposed to be on; it’s the way Jongin whispers what a slut he is as he pushes in that has Kyungsoo forcing himself not to come right then and there. He runs his nails down Jongin’s back, drawing angry red lines as a mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his body. The younger cries out at the pain, syllables forming Kyungsoo’s name.
He thrusts fast and hard, throwing Kyungsoo’s legs over his shoulder after his arms hurt from supporting himself. Kyungsoo’s screams of his name is like a symphony and it has his dick twitching inside him, wanting release sooner.
Jongin is flipping him over on his hands and knees, entering him again without warning, when they hear the garage door opening and the world seems to halt on it’s axis. “Oh my god,” Kyungsoo starts to panic, scrambling off the bed until Jongin tugs at him until he’s back in front of him.
“Come on,” he murmurs in Kyungsoo’s ear, Jongin’s chest plastered to his back and lips grazing his ear. “I bet you like me fucking you right under your parent’s nose.” Jongin rams into him again, one hand on the bed and the other on Kyungsoo’s hip to gain leverage. There’s the slam of the door when he grits, “come right now, when they’re just downstairs, you little slut.”
And Kyungsoo does come, hard, with Jongin following him and fingers shoved in his mouth to keep him quiet.
His parent’s footsteps are loud as they storm up the stairs, because that boy Jongin’s motorcycle is parked outside and if that isn’t warrant enough for a grounding they don’t know what is. They go to his room first, only to find nothing.
That’s when they hear a bang from their room, like something being knocked over.
Mr. Do has his hand on the doorknob and Mrs. Do is ready to storm in- except, as the door slams against the wall, all they see is their empty room, everything as pristine as they left it. Maybe that noise came from the backyard. They’ll check there next.
Jongin and Kyungsoo snicker when they hear the door shut again, legs tangled as they squat in Kyungsoo’s parent’s closet with their clothes laying in a pile between them. Jongin is clutching the picture frame he knocked over in one hand, and the other is tangled in Kyungsoo’s hair to reel him in for a kiss.
Kyungsoo has never liked the taste of rebellion more.
title: please don't
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: pg
length: 2,014w
The walls to the church are high, golden curtains framing the windows with intricate embroidery, and even the pews seem to shine with a holy glow. People are still walking around idly before the ceremony starts- there’s still a good hour before it does- but Jongin doesn’t recognize anyone. He was gone for a long time, so it’s only right there be an entirely new throng of people here.
He smiles when he remembers what it was like before he left. He and Kyungsoo, his best friend, shared an apartment near their college. They did everything together; shopping, eating, watching t.v., falling in love. But the last thing took no effort at all.
They would fall asleep in the same bed even though they had different rooms, legs tangled and Jongin’s arm thrown over Kyungsoo’s waist. They would hold hands on the train with the excuse that they didn’t want to get lost, go out every Friday for ‘boy’s night’, Jongin would come and press his chest to Kyungsoo’s back as he cooked for the two of them, warm breath hitting the elder’s ear as he whispered how good the food smelled.
And, as Kyungsoo came to learn, Jongin was incapable of handling his emotions. He left- simply packed up his things after months of avoiding Kyungsoo like a disease (Jongin was the disease, but he didn’t let Kyungsoo know that) and never came back. That is until now.
It was only after he left that Jongin was buried alive in the love he held- still holds- for Kyungsoo. It still eats away at him, even after all these years, every single fucking day. Couples on the street serve as petty reminders of what they were and what they could have been. Even two friends walking down the street sends a javelin of pain through his heart.
And now Kyungsoo is getting married.
To a kind woman with a rich family, someone who can have children for him and love him properly.
Something that Jongin would never be able to do.
He manages to hold back tears as he hears the bride’s maids talking about how beautiful she looks for Kyungsoo; how they’re so perfect for each other, and they can’t wait to see their beautiful babies.
Jongin wonders if this is Kyungsoo’s way of getting back at him, inviting him to his wedding even though they haven’t seen each other in what, seven years? That sounds about right. It makes him wonder how Kyungsoo was after he left, how long it took him to forget Jongin, how long it took him to love again, if he even ever loved him in the first place.
The answers to those questions for Jongin are horribly devastating, he hasn’t been able to and he’s kept the same love since he was 19 years old. There is no moving on for him. But apparently Kyungsoo has, and that breaks his heart like the day he admitted, a month too late, that he loves Do Kyungsoo.
“Where’s the groom?” Someone passing interrupts his thoughts, a large, toothy smile on their face.
“Bathroom. Nerves are biting him in the ass,” someone else replies, that man much shorter than the first and with a thin-lipped grin.
Jongin makes a beeline for the bathroom, thanking the gods for his luck in finding Kyungsoo’s location so quickly. He has to do what he should have done years and years ago.
The room is quiet when he enters, the lights raining a yellow tent on his brown skin that’s almost unsightly. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s in here, so Jongin is about to turn around when a meek “Baekhyun?” comes from one of the stalls.
“Uh… no. It’s not Baekhyun,” Jongin replies after a minute of hesitation, stuffing his hands into his pockets to wait for a reaction.
“J…” Kyungsoo trails off, the sound of a lock clicking before a head is poking out of the crack in the door. He looks just the same as before: dark brown hair with matching irises, skin white and lips the most endearing shade of red. The only thing that’s different is the fan of wrinkles in the corner of his eyes when he smiles, and oh how glad Jongin is to see that smile again, directed at him no less. “Jongin,” he breathes out in a woosh of air, walking out of the stall in his small tuxedo- he’s just as skinny and narrow as he was before.
“You look great,” Jongin chokes out from the lump forming rapidly in his throat, legs carrying him on autopilot to hug the life out of his small hyung who’s already 28 now, and getting married.
“You look just as well,” he responds with a chuckle, but even through the mist in Jongin’s eyes he can see that Kyungsoo is crying too, trying to hide it by stuffing his face in Jongin’s shoulder as they hug as tightly as they can.
Jongin has his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, the latter’s around Jongin’s torso, and they stay that way for a while, memories flooding in of how they used to be. Cuddled up on the couch after a long day, Jongin playing with fingers. That was Kyungsoo’s favorite part of any day. It’s what he could look forward to since the moment he awoke in Jongin’s arms. After Jongin left, well, it was really a struggle to find something to look forward to…
“I missed you so much,” Jongin whispers into his hair, the words falling along with his tears. The bathroom isn’t exactly the most ideal place for a reunion, but he can’t bring himself to wait for them to go anywhere else.
“I missed you too, you fucking asshole,” Kyungsoo laughs bitterly, tiny hands rubbing up and down Jongin’s back to help console him. He remembers when Jongin would come home from practice on Saturdays and he would rub the kinks out of his back with baby oil. Jongin would moan loudly and it always made him so hard, but they never did those kinds of things back then. They never even kissed. “Hey, remember when I used to have to massage your stupid back?”
“Yeah,” Jongin laughs, still holding on as tightly as before. “And remember when I’d massage your throat before all of your recitals?”
“I guess we’re even on that, then,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongin knows he’s still smiling.
“Remember when,” he murmurs, “we would lay in bed at night, and you would stroke my hair until I went to sleep?”
Kyungsoo inaudibly gulps.
“Remember when you would run into my arms after you won a competition because you were so happy? Remember how we would stay up all night studying physics, you sitting in my lap and my chin on your head?”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods after a few seconds. “I… I remember.”
They stand in silence for moments at a time, the previous sway of their bodies stopping so they stand completely still on the tile floor. The atmosphere sticks to their suits, syrupy on their skin and heavy on their hearts and minds. “Don’t marry her, hyung,” Jongin begs in a whisper. “Please don’t marry her.”
“Jongin…” Kyungsoo lightly pushes him away, and Jongin can see new tears forming, continuing from where the old ones stopped. “I can’t…”
“Hyung,” he starts and stops just as quickly. He can barely talk with the pain in his chest and throat constricting so tightly. “Hyung,” he says again. “I still love you like I did seven years ago. I’ve loved you every single moment of every single day. Please don’t marry her.”
“Jongin, I love her,” Kyungsoo retorts with his face scrunched up and head downcast.
“You don’t love her the way you love me. I know that for a fact.” He doesn’t, though, really. He’s just hoping and praying it’s true.
“It doesn’t matter,” he sobs, covering his eyes with his hands. Jongin is quick to pull them down and hug him differently than before. It’s tender like how their hugs used to be. He has to remind Kyungsoo of the past, it’s the only way.
“It does,” Jongin says with conviction. “It does matter. I know we’re just seeing each other after so much time, but hyung, I know for a fact that I want to marry you. I wanted to marry you seven years ago, but I was too afraid. Now I’m too afraid to watch you say your vows of commitment to anyone but me. I don’t want you to marry her. Please don’t.”
“You can’t just barge into my wedding and do this!” Kyungsoo screams his anger, but his hands fisting in Jongin’s dress shirt tell him the truth. “I moved on from you! You left, and I fucking forgot about you!”
“I’m so sorry,” he sincerely apologizes. “I know what I did but please… please don’t.”
“So what?” Kyungsoo scoffs, pushing Jongin away from him with a hard shove, his face suddenly stoic, yet the tear tracks still remain. “We’re just going to leave? Run away like you did?”
Jongin knows that’s supposed to hurt him, supposed to make him feel guilty, but it doesn’t, not really. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ll sneak out now and we won’t ever look back. We’ll fly to another country if that’s what you want.” But Kyungsoo still doesn’t look convinced. “Please, hyung, I’m still the same Jongin I was but I can finally accept the fact that I am totally and completely in love with you. I can leave now and never contact you again if that’s what you want, but I can tell you now that it won’t be easy to survive in this world without you.
“If you say yes, let’s leave, or at least let me stay in contact with you, I will never let you go again, even if you have ten kids and love her more than you ever loved me. I may not be the love of your life, Do Kyungsoo, but you’re mine.”
“So let’s hypothetically say I agree,” Kyungsoo tosses his hands up in defeat. “Then what?”
“Then we pack up what’s important and head out tonight. We don’t tell anyone anything except for them to not look for us, and we never come back.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then,” Jongin takes a deep breath, leftover regret tinging his spit, “then the boy who burned your food every time he tried to make it, the boy who laid in bed with you for hours on Saturday morning and held you close to his heart, the boy who kissed your cheek when you were asleep because he was too scared to do it when you were awake, is gone.” Jongin wipes the tears marring his cheeks before Kyungsoo takes too much notice to them. “Please don’t marry her, hyung,” he repeats for the millionth time. “Please don’t.”
“I’ll only do this on one condition,” Kyungsoo sniffles angrily. “You can’t ever leave me. Even if you want to, or think you have to, you can’t. You’re with me forever after this. No more running away.”
“Okay,” Jongin smiles in almost-relief. He still hasn’t said an official yes yet, though. “But you’re going to have to work with me, too. I’m still…rough around the edges, hyung. You can’t leave me either.”
“Well I wasn’t the one who left first,” Kyungsoo counters with a pout, and Jongin really wants to kiss it off of him.
And that’s just what he does; hand on Kyungsoo’s cheek and the other around the back of his neck to draw him in close before their lips press together soundlessly.
“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we first moved into the apartment,” Kyungsoo speaks against his lips without pulling apart, and Jongin smiles before deepening the kiss.
With fifteen minutes before Kyungsoo’s wedding ceremony, said boy sneaks out of the church with an unidentified man that has tan skin and dark, moosed up hair.
Nobody sees them again.
title: some of our own
pairing: suho/chanyeol
rating: g
length: 965
Chanyeol’s hand is large against the flat surface of Junmyeon’s stomach, his chest pressed to the elder’s back as they lay on the couch, watching t.v. with the volume low just to soak in each other’s presence.
“How was school today?” Junmyeon asks quietly, resting his hand atop Chanyeol’s.
“Pretty good. None of my students peed themselves, anyway,” he snorts, thinking back to his kindergarten class that is full of twenty ankle-bitters. “How about yours?”
“Well, high school students talk a lot,” Junmyeons sighs softly. “I really don’t like yelling at them, but I had to today. Jongin just would not stop talking. He needs to be paying attention with his grades.”
“That’s the one that goes out with the class president, right?”
“Yeah, Kyungsoo. I really don’t know how he puts up with that heathen,” Junmyeon sneers maliciously, but Chanyeol calms him down with a light peck to his lips. His husband is always getting worked up over such little things, like if Jongin were to hold Kyungsoo’s hand under the table, he’d come home and flip shit. Chanyeol has to remind him that they used to do the exact same thing, and even sneak kisses in behind the teacher’s back.
“Luhan and Sehun made amends from their war in my class,” he tries to brighten up the atmosphere as someone is murdered on the show they’re watching. “I made them hug it out. Now I think Sehun is really taking a shine to his hyung- or should I say ge?”
“He may be Chinese, but we’re still in Korea,” Junmyeon corrects him. “Sehun is so cute, though, I’m surprised you haven’t kidnapped him by now.”
Chanyeol doesn’t reply for a while after that, and instead keeps himself busy by twining his fingers in the scratchy material of Junmyeon’s shirt. “Hey, Jun,” he calls out tentatively, lifting his head to make sure his husband isn’t sleeping. Junmyeon just hums for him to continue, so he does. “What do you think about… maybe… us getting a kid one day? One that I haven’t kidnapped and isn’t Oh Sehun.”
Junmyeon instantly flips around in Chanyeol’s arms, a bright smile showing his straight teeth that are even whiter than Chanyeol’s. “I’m so glad you asked. I would love to have children with you. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and it would be so good for us! We’re financially stable, happily married…”
“Hopefully one day we will,” Chanyeol grins back at him wistfully. “One day…”
-
Chanyeol has had a long, grueling day. Sehun put glue in Luhan’s hair and started up another fight even though they agreed to stop. He’s absolutely sure that Sehun has a crush on Luhan whether he tells everyone that he hates the Chinese boy or not. It’s times like these he’s glad they don’t have a child to take care of at the end of the day.
They spent years saving up for a house, and now that they finally have their dream place, they’re replenishing their funds for the next thing they might need. A washer, dryer, furniture, anything. “Junmyeon!” He calls out as he enters and takes off his shoes, furrowing his eyebrows at the wooden table that stands in the front hallway. It’s chipping and there’s a huge crack. They’ll need to replace that also.
“In the livingroom!” Comes the response, and Chanyeol takes another few seconds to look at the table because something just doesn’t feel right in the house. It’s like some magnetic field has completely shifted and it makes him very dubious.
“Did you change something, Jun? The air feels..” He trails off as he walks through the house, down the hall and into the living room to a waiting Junmyeon. His husband is standing there, prim and proper, with a little girl, probably a year old, standing up in front of his legs (with Junmyeon’s help, of course). “Um, who’s that? Are we babysitting?”
“Yeah,” he nods and smiles. Chanyeol almost feels disappointed. He was expecting something different, even if it is a crazy notion. Whose husband just runs off and gets a kid with no forewarning? “For the next eighteen years or so. Well, technically seventeen. She’s a year and one month.” Apparently his does.
“I don’t get it,” Chanyeol says dumbly, mouth hanging wide open and he’s sure he’s about to swallow his tongue and choke and die. Is this really happening?
“She’s our’s, Yeol! All of the papers went through yesterday, so I went and got her this morning from the orphanage. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“You went,” Chanyeol deadpans, “and adopted a kid without me?”
“W-Well,” Junmyeon’s smile falters as he picks the little girl up and settles her on his hip, “I j-just… you said…”
“She’s beautiful, actually,” he smiles, crossing the room and taking the two in his arms. His family. The people he’s going to be with for the rest of his life. His eyes water a little- a lot, if the wetness on the top of Junmyeon’s head proves anything. “I seriously can’t believe you did this, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
“Wanted what any other way?”
“Nothing. Come on, let’s go show…”
“Min Yi. She’s Chinese, actually. Maybe she and that student of yours can be friends one day.”
“Min Yi,” he sighs dreamily. “Let’s go show Min Yi her room. Is it ready?”
“I had it prepared last week,” Junmyeon admits sheepishly, walking towards the room without his husband. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”
“Childish,” Chanyeol mutters, but races to the room no less with the thought of his how his husband is the best in the world, and now he has a daughter to add to that list.
He has a family.
title: playboy turned playtoy
pairing: sehun/luhan
rating: pg-13
length: 825
Luhan watches as Sehun’s fingers pry open the DVD case, fingernails trimmed to a perfect parabola and the knobs of his joints pristinely sized under stretched white skin. His eyes are trained to the bones that protrude from the top of his hand, four strings that create a trapeze of shadows, and the knob on his wrist, even the tiny scratch from his cat that he got yesterday.
He watches it all.
Sehun returns back to the couch with Luhan’s eyes still on him, the former lacing their fingers together as he presses the button to turn the movie on. “What is it?” He eventually asks when Luhan’s eyes don’t move from his face for a while, pupils tracing the curve of his nose and chin, all the way down to the columns of his throat.
“It’s nothing,” he replies absentmindedly, thumb running over the ridges of Sehun’s knuckles; up, down, up, down.
He remembers how they used to be: just like this, except Sehun had been more distant and Luhan oblivious to the way the younger’s eyes would dart to his phone every time he felt the slightest vibration. He should have paid more attention back then. He should have seen the signs.
He remembers one night they were out on a date, a fancy restaurant that Sehun had set up a reservation for and right as they walked in the door, Sehun received a call and walked right back out because his friend called about the new club opening downtown (and, as Luhan would later find out, because there were tons of girls and boys to choose from. He didn’t need Luhan). But he shrugged it off and Sehun apologized- that was enough for him then.
He remembers coming to Sehun’s apartment one day to surprise him- it was their anniversary, if his memory serves him correctly- and the way his heart shattered when he heard the moans of a woman coming straight from behind the door. They had to be fucking in the kitchen for it to be so clear, and Luhan barely made it to the dumpster before he was throwing his guts up, little pieces of his heart infused in the mess of bile.
Sehun always liked to fuck him on the counter, but now he was doing it with someone else.
Luhan was gone for good after that, and Sehun didn’t try and fight for him to stay. It hurt like the lick of a flame to his chest. That more than anything is what devised the plan of his revenge; the little black book of Sehun’s demise.
It wasn’t pre-planned or anything, but enough time had passed and Luhan’s old scars were healed and he was sure Sehun had forgotten all about him when they crossed paths at the old movie theater. And when Luhan saw that innocent mask covering a brewing pot of deceit, he wanted to douse a bucket of cold water on it; to extinguish it.
Opportunity came in the form of Do Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, who was and still is dating Kim Jongin, Sehun’s best friend, the person he trusts most. It took a couple more incidental run-ins for Sehun to start hanging out with him by himself, without Jongin’s accompaniment, and only a couple more before beer had them back in bed together, shroud in a layer of sin.
Luhan wasn’t so naive the second time around; no, he learned from his mistakes, and he was back to correct them. He was going to take a huge eraser and smudge it over Sehun’s entire existence; blur everything until it’s an incomprehensible mess of unrequited feelings and sorrow.
Luhan had every intention of destroying the very essence of Sehun’s existence.
But then something weird happened.
Sehun wasn’t as unresponsive as he was before. Instead he was loyal and restrained, almost, like he didn’t want to make a mistake, and one phone call from Kyungsoo seemed to prove his theory that Sehun was fighting for his second chance and won it.
He had wanted Luhan back already. He had fallen in love back then, only to realize what a mistake it was, or something as cliche as that. Luhan didn’t really believe it at first- why would he?- but the evidence of his presumptions were overwhelming.
And maybe that’s when Luhan let his guard down; released the tight reign he held on his emotions and let his heart beat freely for whatever it wanted.
Or maybe it had been doing that all along.
So here they sit, three years away from their very first meeting, before all the drama- the chasing and the catching and the falling- started, and there are no signs of infidelity or malicious, cold-hearted intentions. Luhan smiles once more, jaw slack from the beautiful sight of Sehun turning to face him, and all he sees is himself in the brown swirl of irses.
“It’s just that I think I love you.”
title: lips of an angel
pairing: kai/kyungsoo, slight!kai/baekhyun
rating: g
length: 303w
“You shouldn’t be calling me this late.” Jongin’s voice is gruff, throat thickly covered with sleep and hair mussed by his pillow. The sheets fall around his waist as he sits up, the moonlight coming in from his open window drawing long shadows over the cloth.
“I’m sorry,” the voice over the phone says, “I just missed you.”
Jongin sighs, dragging himself away from the comfort of his bed and sliding open the door to the patio. The summer breeze feels nice against his skin, and he takes a deep breath before holding the phone back to his ear.
“Is Baekhyun with you?” the person asks again, and Jongin looks over his shoulder to watch Baekhyun fidget in his sleep, face pressed against his pillow.
“He’s sleeping,” he mutters, then answers the silent question. “I’m outside.”
“You sound like you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I always want to talk to you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers, fingers twisting in the material of his boxers. He glances over his shoulder once more, watching as Baekhyun twists in the sheets, probably searching for him subconsciously. He almost feels guilty. Almost.
“When am I going to see you again, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks in a gentle voice. Jongin shivers as the syllables of his name wash over Kyungsoo’s tongue.
“My mother is throwing a party this weekend,” he says, leaning back against the brick of his-- their-- house. “Will you be there?”
Kyungsoo hesitates just a second. “Will you?”
“I can be.” Jongin smiles.
“And Baekhyun?” And just like that his smile is gone.
“He’ll be there too, of course.”
“I guess I’ll see you then,” Kyungsoo murmurs, and Jongin listens to the light sounds of his breathing before the beeps of a dial tone blare through the speaker.
Kyungsoo makes it so hard to be faithful.
title: some secrets are meant to be kept
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: pg-13
length: 667
Sehun hasn’t been going to this school for long. Only a few months, actually. It’s one of the top all-male Catholic schools in the country with dorm rooms that hold three and a cafeteria that holds three hundred. His parents sent him here because he had been getting into a lot of trouble at his old school with a boy named Zitao, but he doesn’t think smoking a few cigarettes and spiking the punch with vodka at prom should be considered trouble. It’s just fun.
Currently, he’s lounging in his bed, not ready to wake up for the day and go to breakfast with his roommates, Jongin and Kyungsoo, and a couple of other friends like Baekhyun and Chanyeol.
Jongin and Kyungsoo are really nice. It was Jongin who showed him around on the first day: where their dorm is, where his classrooms are, the office and gymnasium. Then Kyungsoo bound up to him with a blank face and asked him if he was the new guy, a cigarette hanging from between his fingers. At that moment, Sehun really wanted a drag.
“Yeah,” he replied, staring at the white stick.
“And you’re rooming with us?”
“Yeah, Soo, he is,” Jongin walked up to him casually and stole the cigarette from his hand. He took a long inhale and Sehun could almost taste the smoke on his tongue.
“You want one?”
And who was Sehun to refuse one when Kyungsoo had already extended the pack towards him?
It wasn’t hard for them to become friends after that, considering the trio’s mutual passion for smoking and drinking and disdain for religion.
Anything to drown out the scripture.
In fact, he’s itching for a smoke again.
That’s when Sehun sits up and realizes that his roommates are gone, their blankets folded over and the small sliding door to the balcony cracked open. This wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t six in the morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.
They’re lucky they have a small balcony attached to their dorm so that the smell of the smoke doesn’t seep into their furniture. It is cold under his feet as he walks out onto it, already missing the warmth of the carpet inside. The metal bars of the railing press hard into his bare hands, the flick of the lighter falling on the deaf ears of the morning, and he looks out over the campus. The building in front of theirs is lower, and on the flat roof stands Kyungsoo and Jongin. They must have snuck over there by the adjacent corners of the building and someone else’s balcony.
Sehun raises an amused eyebrow.
Kyungsoo and Jongin are facing each other, Jongin’s hands on his hips as the two sway in the early morning breeze.
Something like that doesn’t seem so grand at a first glance. It’s just two best friends joking around, teasing each other with dancing fingertips. Except then Jongin is grabbing him tighter, hands tugging him closer, and Kyungsoo is meeting him halfway in a kiss. Their arms wind securely around each other, all cuddled up in the cold morning breeze, and he doesn’t know how long he’s standing there watching them until they pull back from each other.
Sehun’s jaw breaks as it hits the ground.
Jongin and Kyungsoo gaze at each other, and Sehun knows that stare. It’s the way his mom looks at his dad and the way he looks back; it’s the stare that his grandpa has as he looks at old photos of his grandmother. That stare is love.
Sehun doesn’t know why they’re hiding their relationship-- if they are in a relationship. None of their friends are homophobic. But then he remembers that they’re in a Catholic school, and if this got out it would definitely mean expulsion.
He heads back inside the next time Jongin swoops down to kiss Kyungsoo, snuffing his barely-used cigarette in the ashtray and closing the door behind him.
They’re lucky Sehun can keep a secret.
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: nc-17
length: 800w
Jongin attaches his lips to Kyungsoo’s neck before they’re even to the hallway, hands coming to grip hips and grind a growing erection into a pert ass. “Jongin, don’t,” Kyungsoo whines, but leans his head to the right to give him more access nonetheless. “My parents will be home in a little while.”
“So? I can make it quick,” he mutters, maneuvering around and kicking the door closest to him open and walking them in backwards.
“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo pants as a hand comes to rub him through his jeans, fingers burrowing into the skin of Jongin’s arm. “This isn’t my bedroom.”
“Then whose is it?”
“It’s my parent’s.”
“That’s even better,” Jongin grunts back, dropping him onto unfamiliar sheets and slowly crawling over him.
“What?”
“Think about it,” he lets his nose drag over Kyungsoo’s cheek, breath tickling sensitive skin. “You’re getting fucked by the boy your parents hate on their bed.” Jongin lets a tongue slide against his ear then down his jawline and the column of his throat. “Rebellion is sexy.”
Maybe it’s how cajoling his rough voice sounds, but it doesn’t take long until their clothes are littering the floor, Kyungsoo’s legs wrapped around Jongin’s waist and their cocks brushing. Their lips mesh and tongues tangle, heat trapped between them as beads of sweat roll down their bodies.
“I wonder if your dad has any lube and condoms,” Jongin says as soon as their mouths break apart, lurching forward to rummage through the drawer before coming back with a packet of tin foil and a small plastic bottle. “He does.”
Kyungsoo giggles, heat pooling in his belly and a sense of urgency running through them both as Jongins slick finger trails a line down his ass. One finger turns into two which turns into three, stretching Kyungsoo until he’s fucking himself down on the long digits and begging Jongin to hurry the hell up.
They make sure not to get any on the comforter, though, because although being a rebel is nice, being dead isn’t.
“Eager, are we?” He smirks at his small boyfriend, slowly retracting his fingers and it leaves Kyungsoo bucking his hips for more.
“Hurry,” Kyungsoo demands in reply, cock throbbing and in need of release.
It’s just the taboo feeling of fucking on a bed they’re not supposed to be on; it’s the way Jongin whispers what a slut he is as he pushes in that has Kyungsoo forcing himself not to come right then and there. He runs his nails down Jongin’s back, drawing angry red lines as a mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his body. The younger cries out at the pain, syllables forming Kyungsoo’s name.
He thrusts fast and hard, throwing Kyungsoo’s legs over his shoulder after his arms hurt from supporting himself. Kyungsoo’s screams of his name is like a symphony and it has his dick twitching inside him, wanting release sooner.
Jongin is flipping him over on his hands and knees, entering him again without warning, when they hear the garage door opening and the world seems to halt on it’s axis. “Oh my god,” Kyungsoo starts to panic, scrambling off the bed until Jongin tugs at him until he’s back in front of him.
“Come on,” he murmurs in Kyungsoo’s ear, Jongin’s chest plastered to his back and lips grazing his ear. “I bet you like me fucking you right under your parent’s nose.” Jongin rams into him again, one hand on the bed and the other on Kyungsoo’s hip to gain leverage. There’s the slam of the door when he grits, “come right now, when they’re just downstairs, you little slut.”
And Kyungsoo does come, hard, with Jongin following him and fingers shoved in his mouth to keep him quiet.
His parent’s footsteps are loud as they storm up the stairs, because that boy Jongin’s motorcycle is parked outside and if that isn’t warrant enough for a grounding they don’t know what is. They go to his room first, only to find nothing.
That’s when they hear a bang from their room, like something being knocked over.
Mr. Do has his hand on the doorknob and Mrs. Do is ready to storm in- except, as the door slams against the wall, all they see is their empty room, everything as pristine as they left it. Maybe that noise came from the backyard. They’ll check there next.
Jongin and Kyungsoo snicker when they hear the door shut again, legs tangled as they squat in Kyungsoo’s parent’s closet with their clothes laying in a pile between them. Jongin is clutching the picture frame he knocked over in one hand, and the other is tangled in Kyungsoo’s hair to reel him in for a kiss.
Kyungsoo has never liked the taste of rebellion more.
title: please don't
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: pg
length: 2,014w
The walls to the church are high, golden curtains framing the windows with intricate embroidery, and even the pews seem to shine with a holy glow. People are still walking around idly before the ceremony starts- there’s still a good hour before it does- but Jongin doesn’t recognize anyone. He was gone for a long time, so it’s only right there be an entirely new throng of people here.
He smiles when he remembers what it was like before he left. He and Kyungsoo, his best friend, shared an apartment near their college. They did everything together; shopping, eating, watching t.v., falling in love. But the last thing took no effort at all.
They would fall asleep in the same bed even though they had different rooms, legs tangled and Jongin’s arm thrown over Kyungsoo’s waist. They would hold hands on the train with the excuse that they didn’t want to get lost, go out every Friday for ‘boy’s night’, Jongin would come and press his chest to Kyungsoo’s back as he cooked for the two of them, warm breath hitting the elder’s ear as he whispered how good the food smelled.
And, as Kyungsoo came to learn, Jongin was incapable of handling his emotions. He left- simply packed up his things after months of avoiding Kyungsoo like a disease (Jongin was the disease, but he didn’t let Kyungsoo know that) and never came back. That is until now.
It was only after he left that Jongin was buried alive in the love he held- still holds- for Kyungsoo. It still eats away at him, even after all these years, every single fucking day. Couples on the street serve as petty reminders of what they were and what they could have been. Even two friends walking down the street sends a javelin of pain through his heart.
And now Kyungsoo is getting married.
To a kind woman with a rich family, someone who can have children for him and love him properly.
Something that Jongin would never be able to do.
He manages to hold back tears as he hears the bride’s maids talking about how beautiful she looks for Kyungsoo; how they’re so perfect for each other, and they can’t wait to see their beautiful babies.
Jongin wonders if this is Kyungsoo’s way of getting back at him, inviting him to his wedding even though they haven’t seen each other in what, seven years? That sounds about right. It makes him wonder how Kyungsoo was after he left, how long it took him to forget Jongin, how long it took him to love again, if he even ever loved him in the first place.
The answers to those questions for Jongin are horribly devastating, he hasn’t been able to and he’s kept the same love since he was 19 years old. There is no moving on for him. But apparently Kyungsoo has, and that breaks his heart like the day he admitted, a month too late, that he loves Do Kyungsoo.
“Where’s the groom?” Someone passing interrupts his thoughts, a large, toothy smile on their face.
“Bathroom. Nerves are biting him in the ass,” someone else replies, that man much shorter than the first and with a thin-lipped grin.
Jongin makes a beeline for the bathroom, thanking the gods for his luck in finding Kyungsoo’s location so quickly. He has to do what he should have done years and years ago.
The room is quiet when he enters, the lights raining a yellow tent on his brown skin that’s almost unsightly. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s in here, so Jongin is about to turn around when a meek “Baekhyun?” comes from one of the stalls.
“Uh… no. It’s not Baekhyun,” Jongin replies after a minute of hesitation, stuffing his hands into his pockets to wait for a reaction.
“J…” Kyungsoo trails off, the sound of a lock clicking before a head is poking out of the crack in the door. He looks just the same as before: dark brown hair with matching irises, skin white and lips the most endearing shade of red. The only thing that’s different is the fan of wrinkles in the corner of his eyes when he smiles, and oh how glad Jongin is to see that smile again, directed at him no less. “Jongin,” he breathes out in a woosh of air, walking out of the stall in his small tuxedo- he’s just as skinny and narrow as he was before.
“You look great,” Jongin chokes out from the lump forming rapidly in his throat, legs carrying him on autopilot to hug the life out of his small hyung who’s already 28 now, and getting married.
“You look just as well,” he responds with a chuckle, but even through the mist in Jongin’s eyes he can see that Kyungsoo is crying too, trying to hide it by stuffing his face in Jongin’s shoulder as they hug as tightly as they can.
Jongin has his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, the latter’s around Jongin’s torso, and they stay that way for a while, memories flooding in of how they used to be. Cuddled up on the couch after a long day, Jongin playing with fingers. That was Kyungsoo’s favorite part of any day. It’s what he could look forward to since the moment he awoke in Jongin’s arms. After Jongin left, well, it was really a struggle to find something to look forward to…
“I missed you so much,” Jongin whispers into his hair, the words falling along with his tears. The bathroom isn’t exactly the most ideal place for a reunion, but he can’t bring himself to wait for them to go anywhere else.
“I missed you too, you fucking asshole,” Kyungsoo laughs bitterly, tiny hands rubbing up and down Jongin’s back to help console him. He remembers when Jongin would come home from practice on Saturdays and he would rub the kinks out of his back with baby oil. Jongin would moan loudly and it always made him so hard, but they never did those kinds of things back then. They never even kissed. “Hey, remember when I used to have to massage your stupid back?”
“Yeah,” Jongin laughs, still holding on as tightly as before. “And remember when I’d massage your throat before all of your recitals?”
“I guess we’re even on that, then,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongin knows he’s still smiling.
“Remember when,” he murmurs, “we would lay in bed at night, and you would stroke my hair until I went to sleep?”
Kyungsoo inaudibly gulps.
“Remember when you would run into my arms after you won a competition because you were so happy? Remember how we would stay up all night studying physics, you sitting in my lap and my chin on your head?”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods after a few seconds. “I… I remember.”
They stand in silence for moments at a time, the previous sway of their bodies stopping so they stand completely still on the tile floor. The atmosphere sticks to their suits, syrupy on their skin and heavy on their hearts and minds. “Don’t marry her, hyung,” Jongin begs in a whisper. “Please don’t marry her.”
“Jongin…” Kyungsoo lightly pushes him away, and Jongin can see new tears forming, continuing from where the old ones stopped. “I can’t…”
“Hyung,” he starts and stops just as quickly. He can barely talk with the pain in his chest and throat constricting so tightly. “Hyung,” he says again. “I still love you like I did seven years ago. I’ve loved you every single moment of every single day. Please don’t marry her.”
“Jongin, I love her,” Kyungsoo retorts with his face scrunched up and head downcast.
“You don’t love her the way you love me. I know that for a fact.” He doesn’t, though, really. He’s just hoping and praying it’s true.
“It doesn’t matter,” he sobs, covering his eyes with his hands. Jongin is quick to pull them down and hug him differently than before. It’s tender like how their hugs used to be. He has to remind Kyungsoo of the past, it’s the only way.
“It does,” Jongin says with conviction. “It does matter. I know we’re just seeing each other after so much time, but hyung, I know for a fact that I want to marry you. I wanted to marry you seven years ago, but I was too afraid. Now I’m too afraid to watch you say your vows of commitment to anyone but me. I don’t want you to marry her. Please don’t.”
“You can’t just barge into my wedding and do this!” Kyungsoo screams his anger, but his hands fisting in Jongin’s dress shirt tell him the truth. “I moved on from you! You left, and I fucking forgot about you!”
“I’m so sorry,” he sincerely apologizes. “I know what I did but please… please don’t.”
“So what?” Kyungsoo scoffs, pushing Jongin away from him with a hard shove, his face suddenly stoic, yet the tear tracks still remain. “We’re just going to leave? Run away like you did?”
Jongin knows that’s supposed to hurt him, supposed to make him feel guilty, but it doesn’t, not really. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ll sneak out now and we won’t ever look back. We’ll fly to another country if that’s what you want.” But Kyungsoo still doesn’t look convinced. “Please, hyung, I’m still the same Jongin I was but I can finally accept the fact that I am totally and completely in love with you. I can leave now and never contact you again if that’s what you want, but I can tell you now that it won’t be easy to survive in this world without you.
“If you say yes, let’s leave, or at least let me stay in contact with you, I will never let you go again, even if you have ten kids and love her more than you ever loved me. I may not be the love of your life, Do Kyungsoo, but you’re mine.”
“So let’s hypothetically say I agree,” Kyungsoo tosses his hands up in defeat. “Then what?”
“Then we pack up what’s important and head out tonight. We don’t tell anyone anything except for them to not look for us, and we never come back.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then,” Jongin takes a deep breath, leftover regret tinging his spit, “then the boy who burned your food every time he tried to make it, the boy who laid in bed with you for hours on Saturday morning and held you close to his heart, the boy who kissed your cheek when you were asleep because he was too scared to do it when you were awake, is gone.” Jongin wipes the tears marring his cheeks before Kyungsoo takes too much notice to them. “Please don’t marry her, hyung,” he repeats for the millionth time. “Please don’t.”
“I’ll only do this on one condition,” Kyungsoo sniffles angrily. “You can’t ever leave me. Even if you want to, or think you have to, you can’t. You’re with me forever after this. No more running away.”
“Okay,” Jongin smiles in almost-relief. He still hasn’t said an official yes yet, though. “But you’re going to have to work with me, too. I’m still…rough around the edges, hyung. You can’t leave me either.”
“Well I wasn’t the one who left first,” Kyungsoo counters with a pout, and Jongin really wants to kiss it off of him.
And that’s just what he does; hand on Kyungsoo’s cheek and the other around the back of his neck to draw him in close before their lips press together soundlessly.
“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we first moved into the apartment,” Kyungsoo speaks against his lips without pulling apart, and Jongin smiles before deepening the kiss.
With fifteen minutes before Kyungsoo’s wedding ceremony, said boy sneaks out of the church with an unidentified man that has tan skin and dark, moosed up hair.
Nobody sees them again.
title: some of our own
pairing: suho/chanyeol
rating: g
length: 965
Chanyeol’s hand is large against the flat surface of Junmyeon’s stomach, his chest pressed to the elder’s back as they lay on the couch, watching t.v. with the volume low just to soak in each other’s presence.
“How was school today?” Junmyeon asks quietly, resting his hand atop Chanyeol’s.
“Pretty good. None of my students peed themselves, anyway,” he snorts, thinking back to his kindergarten class that is full of twenty ankle-bitters. “How about yours?”
“Well, high school students talk a lot,” Junmyeons sighs softly. “I really don’t like yelling at them, but I had to today. Jongin just would not stop talking. He needs to be paying attention with his grades.”
“That’s the one that goes out with the class president, right?”
“Yeah, Kyungsoo. I really don’t know how he puts up with that heathen,” Junmyeon sneers maliciously, but Chanyeol calms him down with a light peck to his lips. His husband is always getting worked up over such little things, like if Jongin were to hold Kyungsoo’s hand under the table, he’d come home and flip shit. Chanyeol has to remind him that they used to do the exact same thing, and even sneak kisses in behind the teacher’s back.
“Luhan and Sehun made amends from their war in my class,” he tries to brighten up the atmosphere as someone is murdered on the show they’re watching. “I made them hug it out. Now I think Sehun is really taking a shine to his hyung- or should I say ge?”
“He may be Chinese, but we’re still in Korea,” Junmyeon corrects him. “Sehun is so cute, though, I’m surprised you haven’t kidnapped him by now.”
Chanyeol doesn’t reply for a while after that, and instead keeps himself busy by twining his fingers in the scratchy material of Junmyeon’s shirt. “Hey, Jun,” he calls out tentatively, lifting his head to make sure his husband isn’t sleeping. Junmyeon just hums for him to continue, so he does. “What do you think about… maybe… us getting a kid one day? One that I haven’t kidnapped and isn’t Oh Sehun.”
Junmyeon instantly flips around in Chanyeol’s arms, a bright smile showing his straight teeth that are even whiter than Chanyeol’s. “I’m so glad you asked. I would love to have children with you. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and it would be so good for us! We’re financially stable, happily married…”
“Hopefully one day we will,” Chanyeol grins back at him wistfully. “One day…”
-
Chanyeol has had a long, grueling day. Sehun put glue in Luhan’s hair and started up another fight even though they agreed to stop. He’s absolutely sure that Sehun has a crush on Luhan whether he tells everyone that he hates the Chinese boy or not. It’s times like these he’s glad they don’t have a child to take care of at the end of the day.
They spent years saving up for a house, and now that they finally have their dream place, they’re replenishing their funds for the next thing they might need. A washer, dryer, furniture, anything. “Junmyeon!” He calls out as he enters and takes off his shoes, furrowing his eyebrows at the wooden table that stands in the front hallway. It’s chipping and there’s a huge crack. They’ll need to replace that also.
“In the livingroom!” Comes the response, and Chanyeol takes another few seconds to look at the table because something just doesn’t feel right in the house. It’s like some magnetic field has completely shifted and it makes him very dubious.
“Did you change something, Jun? The air feels..” He trails off as he walks through the house, down the hall and into the living room to a waiting Junmyeon. His husband is standing there, prim and proper, with a little girl, probably a year old, standing up in front of his legs (with Junmyeon’s help, of course). “Um, who’s that? Are we babysitting?”
“Yeah,” he nods and smiles. Chanyeol almost feels disappointed. He was expecting something different, even if it is a crazy notion. Whose husband just runs off and gets a kid with no forewarning? “For the next eighteen years or so. Well, technically seventeen. She’s a year and one month.” Apparently his does.
“I don’t get it,” Chanyeol says dumbly, mouth hanging wide open and he’s sure he’s about to swallow his tongue and choke and die. Is this really happening?
“She’s our’s, Yeol! All of the papers went through yesterday, so I went and got her this morning from the orphanage. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“You went,” Chanyeol deadpans, “and adopted a kid without me?”
“W-Well,” Junmyeon’s smile falters as he picks the little girl up and settles her on his hip, “I j-just… you said…”
“She’s beautiful, actually,” he smiles, crossing the room and taking the two in his arms. His family. The people he’s going to be with for the rest of his life. His eyes water a little- a lot, if the wetness on the top of Junmyeon’s head proves anything. “I seriously can’t believe you did this, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
“Wanted what any other way?”
“Nothing. Come on, let’s go show…”
“Min Yi. She’s Chinese, actually. Maybe she and that student of yours can be friends one day.”
“Min Yi,” he sighs dreamily. “Let’s go show Min Yi her room. Is it ready?”
“I had it prepared last week,” Junmyeon admits sheepishly, walking towards the room without his husband. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”
“Childish,” Chanyeol mutters, but races to the room no less with the thought of his how his husband is the best in the world, and now he has a daughter to add to that list.
He has a family.
title: playboy turned playtoy
pairing: sehun/luhan
rating: pg-13
length: 825
Luhan watches as Sehun’s fingers pry open the DVD case, fingernails trimmed to a perfect parabola and the knobs of his joints pristinely sized under stretched white skin. His eyes are trained to the bones that protrude from the top of his hand, four strings that create a trapeze of shadows, and the knob on his wrist, even the tiny scratch from his cat that he got yesterday.
He watches it all.
Sehun returns back to the couch with Luhan’s eyes still on him, the former lacing their fingers together as he presses the button to turn the movie on. “What is it?” He eventually asks when Luhan’s eyes don’t move from his face for a while, pupils tracing the curve of his nose and chin, all the way down to the columns of his throat.
“It’s nothing,” he replies absentmindedly, thumb running over the ridges of Sehun’s knuckles; up, down, up, down.
He remembers how they used to be: just like this, except Sehun had been more distant and Luhan oblivious to the way the younger’s eyes would dart to his phone every time he felt the slightest vibration. He should have paid more attention back then. He should have seen the signs.
He remembers one night they were out on a date, a fancy restaurant that Sehun had set up a reservation for and right as they walked in the door, Sehun received a call and walked right back out because his friend called about the new club opening downtown (and, as Luhan would later find out, because there were tons of girls and boys to choose from. He didn’t need Luhan). But he shrugged it off and Sehun apologized- that was enough for him then.
He remembers coming to Sehun’s apartment one day to surprise him- it was their anniversary, if his memory serves him correctly- and the way his heart shattered when he heard the moans of a woman coming straight from behind the door. They had to be fucking in the kitchen for it to be so clear, and Luhan barely made it to the dumpster before he was throwing his guts up, little pieces of his heart infused in the mess of bile.
Sehun always liked to fuck him on the counter, but now he was doing it with someone else.
Luhan was gone for good after that, and Sehun didn’t try and fight for him to stay. It hurt like the lick of a flame to his chest. That more than anything is what devised the plan of his revenge; the little black book of Sehun’s demise.
It wasn’t pre-planned or anything, but enough time had passed and Luhan’s old scars were healed and he was sure Sehun had forgotten all about him when they crossed paths at the old movie theater. And when Luhan saw that innocent mask covering a brewing pot of deceit, he wanted to douse a bucket of cold water on it; to extinguish it.
Opportunity came in the form of Do Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, who was and still is dating Kim Jongin, Sehun’s best friend, the person he trusts most. It took a couple more incidental run-ins for Sehun to start hanging out with him by himself, without Jongin’s accompaniment, and only a couple more before beer had them back in bed together, shroud in a layer of sin.
Luhan wasn’t so naive the second time around; no, he learned from his mistakes, and he was back to correct them. He was going to take a huge eraser and smudge it over Sehun’s entire existence; blur everything until it’s an incomprehensible mess of unrequited feelings and sorrow.
Luhan had every intention of destroying the very essence of Sehun’s existence.
But then something weird happened.
Sehun wasn’t as unresponsive as he was before. Instead he was loyal and restrained, almost, like he didn’t want to make a mistake, and one phone call from Kyungsoo seemed to prove his theory that Sehun was fighting for his second chance and won it.
He had wanted Luhan back already. He had fallen in love back then, only to realize what a mistake it was, or something as cliche as that. Luhan didn’t really believe it at first- why would he?- but the evidence of his presumptions were overwhelming.
And maybe that’s when Luhan let his guard down; released the tight reign he held on his emotions and let his heart beat freely for whatever it wanted.
Or maybe it had been doing that all along.
So here they sit, three years away from their very first meeting, before all the drama- the chasing and the catching and the falling- started, and there are no signs of infidelity or malicious, cold-hearted intentions. Luhan smiles once more, jaw slack from the beautiful sight of Sehun turning to face him, and all he sees is himself in the brown swirl of irses.
“It’s just that I think I love you.”
title: lips of an angel
pairing: kai/kyungsoo, slight!kai/baekhyun
rating: g
length: 303w
“You shouldn’t be calling me this late.” Jongin’s voice is gruff, throat thickly covered with sleep and hair mussed by his pillow. The sheets fall around his waist as he sits up, the moonlight coming in from his open window drawing long shadows over the cloth.
“I’m sorry,” the voice over the phone says, “I just missed you.”
Jongin sighs, dragging himself away from the comfort of his bed and sliding open the door to the patio. The summer breeze feels nice against his skin, and he takes a deep breath before holding the phone back to his ear.
“Is Baekhyun with you?” the person asks again, and Jongin looks over his shoulder to watch Baekhyun fidget in his sleep, face pressed against his pillow.
“He’s sleeping,” he mutters, then answers the silent question. “I’m outside.”
“You sound like you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I always want to talk to you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers, fingers twisting in the material of his boxers. He glances over his shoulder once more, watching as Baekhyun twists in the sheets, probably searching for him subconsciously. He almost feels guilty. Almost.
“When am I going to see you again, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks in a gentle voice. Jongin shivers as the syllables of his name wash over Kyungsoo’s tongue.
“My mother is throwing a party this weekend,” he says, leaning back against the brick of his-- their-- house. “Will you be there?”
Kyungsoo hesitates just a second. “Will you?”
“I can be.” Jongin smiles.
“And Baekhyun?” And just like that his smile is gone.
“He’ll be there too, of course.”
“I guess I’ll see you then,” Kyungsoo murmurs, and Jongin listens to the light sounds of his breathing before the beeps of a dial tone blare through the speaker.
Kyungsoo makes it so hard to be faithful.
title: some secrets are meant to be kept
pairing: kai/kyungsoo
rating: pg-13
length: 667
Sehun hasn’t been going to this school for long. Only a few months, actually. It’s one of the top all-male Catholic schools in the country with dorm rooms that hold three and a cafeteria that holds three hundred. His parents sent him here because he had been getting into a lot of trouble at his old school with a boy named Zitao, but he doesn’t think smoking a few cigarettes and spiking the punch with vodka at prom should be considered trouble. It’s just fun.
Currently, he’s lounging in his bed, not ready to wake up for the day and go to breakfast with his roommates, Jongin and Kyungsoo, and a couple of other friends like Baekhyun and Chanyeol.
Jongin and Kyungsoo are really nice. It was Jongin who showed him around on the first day: where their dorm is, where his classrooms are, the office and gymnasium. Then Kyungsoo bound up to him with a blank face and asked him if he was the new guy, a cigarette hanging from between his fingers. At that moment, Sehun really wanted a drag.
“Yeah,” he replied, staring at the white stick.
“And you’re rooming with us?”
“Yeah, Soo, he is,” Jongin walked up to him casually and stole the cigarette from his hand. He took a long inhale and Sehun could almost taste the smoke on his tongue.
“You want one?”
And who was Sehun to refuse one when Kyungsoo had already extended the pack towards him?
It wasn’t hard for them to become friends after that, considering the trio’s mutual passion for smoking and drinking and disdain for religion.
Anything to drown out the scripture.
In fact, he’s itching for a smoke again.
That’s when Sehun sits up and realizes that his roommates are gone, their blankets folded over and the small sliding door to the balcony cracked open. This wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t six in the morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.
They’re lucky they have a small balcony attached to their dorm so that the smell of the smoke doesn’t seep into their furniture. It is cold under his feet as he walks out onto it, already missing the warmth of the carpet inside. The metal bars of the railing press hard into his bare hands, the flick of the lighter falling on the deaf ears of the morning, and he looks out over the campus. The building in front of theirs is lower, and on the flat roof stands Kyungsoo and Jongin. They must have snuck over there by the adjacent corners of the building and someone else’s balcony.
Sehun raises an amused eyebrow.
Kyungsoo and Jongin are facing each other, Jongin’s hands on his hips as the two sway in the early morning breeze.
Something like that doesn’t seem so grand at a first glance. It’s just two best friends joking around, teasing each other with dancing fingertips. Except then Jongin is grabbing him tighter, hands tugging him closer, and Kyungsoo is meeting him halfway in a kiss. Their arms wind securely around each other, all cuddled up in the cold morning breeze, and he doesn’t know how long he’s standing there watching them until they pull back from each other.
Sehun’s jaw breaks as it hits the ground.
Jongin and Kyungsoo gaze at each other, and Sehun knows that stare. It’s the way his mom looks at his dad and the way he looks back; it’s the stare that his grandpa has as he looks at old photos of his grandmother. That stare is love.
Sehun doesn’t know why they’re hiding their relationship-- if they are in a relationship. None of their friends are homophobic. But then he remembers that they’re in a Catholic school, and if this got out it would definitely mean expulsion.
He heads back inside the next time Jongin swoops down to kiss Kyungsoo, snuffing his barely-used cigarette in the ashtray and closing the door behind him.
They’re lucky Sehun can keep a secret.