The Way You Look Tonight
Title: The Way You Look Tonight
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Rating: NC-17 (I'm ashamed ;~;)
Length: ~8000
Summary: Second dates are better (aka Kyungsoo continues to threaten his boyfriend and Jongin acts like a scared kitten).
A/N: This is embarrassing for me on so many levels... I cannot.... Why did I write this? I swore I would never attempt to write smut on any level *sobs* Also, the title is taken from a lovely song by Frank Sinatra
I would not read this without reading *THIS* first, otherwise some things might not make as much sense. Or you can just go ahead and read it anyways (*cough* your loss *cough*). It’s up to you c:
The Way You Look Tonight
In the grand scheme of things, four days is a relatively short time, unless you happen to have been one of Jongin’s pet goldfish in your past life (then that’s about the halfway point in your life). But, most likely, you have never been, nor will you ever be (because he’s sworn off pet fish) one of Jongin’s goldfish. However, if you are Jongin himself, and you are impatient and all too ecstatic to see your beloved boyfriend again, then four days is a fucking long ass time. Too long.
It also doesn’t help that he hasn’t been able to contact Kyungsoo for these past few days because he’s been visiting relatives at some log cabin in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere. Probably freezing to death and/or losing important appendages to frostbite, as Jongin dramatically whined to his mother. Needless to say, his family has been short on tolerating an unusually needy Jongin these past few days. In fact, by the eve of day four they threaten to kick him out of the house. His eldest sister even jokes that perhaps he should camp outside of Kyungsoo’s house and wait for his return. But then he’d also most likely freeze to death and/or lose important appendages, so he bites his tongue and manages to keep all the neediness to an internal pining.
Somehow he manages to convinces himself to go to bed by midnight instead of waiting up for a text from Kyungsoo saying that he’s returned (apparently he’s getting in at some horrible hour in the morning like 3 a.m.). But in true lovesick fashion he wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing at 2:45 and only manages to suppress an obnoxiously loud squeal of excitement when he reads Kyungsoo’s “I’m home, see you later today ;)” text because he’s half asleep. He wants to text back, in fact he starts saying it outloud in a sleep-heavy tone that he needs to text him back, but he ends up passing out while hugging the phone to his chest. He’s a little embarrassed that he wakes up hugging his phone like it’s Kyungsoo himself, but he brushes it off since there are far more embarrassing things he could wake up doing.
They could go out for their date, after all it is New Year’s Eve, and that’s what most exciting people do. But Kyungsoo does not want to just get wasted at some party (though Sehun had sent Jongin a text inviting him to one) nor does he want to spend a million dollars on going out to a nice place to eat. So this apparently means that he’s going to take over Jongin’s kitchen and subject it to all of his cooking experiments.
Though Jongin has faith that everything they eat tonight will be absolutely delicious, he can only pray that Kyungsoo doesn’t explode the oven or microwave while his family is attending a New Year party at their neighbors. Almost everything Kyungsoo has made for Jongin in the past has been exceptionally tasty, but he winces when thinks about how many blenders, plates, and stirring utensils he’s managed to destroy in the process. Not to mention the numerous cuts and that one time he nearly cut his thumb of while chopping celery and they had to rush him to the emergency room. The outcome of his efforts may always taste amazing, but the process of creating those tasty treats has a record for being a deadly.
“Please, Jongin,” Kyungsoo sighs and rolls his eyes while creaming together butter and sugar. “The worst I’ll do tonight is intentionally shove you in the oven with the cake because you keep fretting over your kitchen appliances.”
“That definitely falls into the Destroy My Kitchen theory, though. These ovens aren’t built for cremation. Not to mention you’ll destroy the cake,” Jongin scoffs. Why is it that Kyungsoo always has to threaten him?
“Well, I’ll still be able to eat dinner, and you guys always have some form of ice cream in your freezer so I don’t have to worry about dessert if I can’t eat cake,” he shrugs.
Jongin pouts and wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, pushing his face obnoxiously into the crook of his neck as the elder attempts to finish making the cake batter. “But then you’ll miss me,” he mumbles into Kyungsoo’s skin.
Kyungsoo shrugs but doesn’t try to detach that leech that is Jongin from his body. Of course he’d miss the stupid child if he baked him in the oven in with the cake but, more importantly, he’d also spend the rest of his life in jail.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Well, for starters, you can stop breathing down my neck and measure out the chocolate chips.”
In response, Jongin burrows his head deeper (if such a thing is possible) into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Where are they?” he says into the elder’s shoulder.
All Kyungsoo hears is “Wherkajfnakuey?” so he decides to spin around and shove Jongin off of him with a scandalized look. “Excuse me?”
“I said, where are they?”
Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow and snorts, “How the hell would I know? This is your kitchen after all.”
“Oh right,” Jongin grins and begins his epic search for chocolate chips (he’s not even sure they have any because he didn’t actually check when Kyungsoo asked him to earlier in the day).
This may be his kitchen, but he’s been away at school for the past four months which is apparently plenty of time for his mother to go on a reorganizing spree around the house. He nearly had a panic attack when he couldn’t find where she’d hidden the toilet paper when he really had to take a shit and there was none left in the bathroom. The chocolate chips seem to be equally misplaced, only it doesn’t stress him out nearly as much as the toilet paper incident. It does, however, make Kyungsoo start whining and offer more death threats when he’s ready to add the chocolate chips to the batter and Jongin has yet to find them.
It’s a blessing, Jongin thinks to himself once he’s finally measured out the appropriate amount of chocolate, that he is dating such a wonderful person, death threats and all. At least he gets cake (unless he ends up in the oven, Kyungsoo reminds him).
While the cake bakes in the oven, luckily Jongin free, Kyungsoo sets himself on finishing up dinner while Jongin does dishes (poor baby). He’d wanted to make something fancy for dinner, like beef bourguignon but, being under twenty-one, neither of them were capable of convincing their parents to buy them an entire bottle of red wine (which is especially baffling when Jongin thinks about how his parents have no qualms with occasionally letting him drink a glass or two of it when they have some). Instead, Kyungsoo resigns to making some delicious form of pasta that Jongin can’t pronounce the name of because his Italian is super fail.
Since Kyungsoo is in control of the cooking, and because Jongin is speedy at cleaning up (“It’s called a dishwasher,” Jongin points out) he is put in charge of taking the cake out of the oven when the timer dings. And, of course, since Kyungsoo is such a lovely individual, he pretends to kick him into the oven when Jongin bends down to precariously remove the cake. He nearly has a heart attack and throws that cake at Kyungsoo, but his appetite wins out and he manages to put the cake on the countertop before violently whacking Kyungsoo with the oven mits in a very mature manner. He hopes the pasta dish burns (but not really because he’s a hungry growing boy).
“Kyungsoo, I think my oven killed your cake...” Jongin says when he’s had enough of attacking Kyungsoo with the oven mitts and turns around to look at their, uh, masterpiece of a baked good. It’s more than a little toasty around the edges even though they’ve done everything correctly.
Kyungsoo peers around the hands he’s held up to shield himself from the onslaught of Jongin’s attack and giggles. “Well, I guess we can just shave off the edges when we unmold it. I’m going to cover it with frosting anyways."
Jongin attempts to poke the burnt edge of the cake with an unsatisfied growl but Kyungsoo is beside him within a heartbeat, swatting his hand away.
“You’ll burn yourself,” he chides, but it makes Jongin snort in amusement because just a few minutes again his boyfriend was trying to shove him into the heat of the oven, not protect him from burns. So typically of their relationship. He doesn’t even want to know what people would think of them from an outsiders perspective. One minute they’re jokingly abusing each other and they next they’re being all mushy. It must seem disgusting and wrong. Thank God his parents aren’t here to witness it.
Only he speaks a little too soon on the parents not being here part because halfway through dinner they return. Apparently his mom is starting to feel a bit “under the weather” so they’ve come back early. She must not be that sick though because a few minutes after they flutter around the kitchen, unceremoniously interrupting Jongin trying to feed Kyungsoo noodles, they take over the living room and start dancing to Frank Sinatra songs while the television glows silently in the background. They were supposed to stay out at least until the ball dropped in New York, but now they’re home early, ruining Jongin’s date. He hates how much this makes Kyungsoo laugh and pinch his cheeks for being a petulant child.
“How do we even manage to get along without killing each other?” Jongin says and detaches Kyungsoo’s hand from his face, rather exasperated by his boyfriend’s abominable behaviour.
“We’re very alike,” Kyungsoo says earnestly after a bite of pasta.
Music from the living room drifts into the kitchen and it’s driving Jongin insane. He’d really hoped to have the evening to themselves. Part of him wants to shove the plate full of pasta into Kyungsoo’s face for being so amused by this.
“No, you’re meaner,” he says after a few moments of contemplation.
Kyungsoo freezes mid-bite and cocks his head to one side. “You’re right. I’m the worst.”
“Hyung, this is where you’re supposed to disagree with me….” Jongin whines.
“I thought I’d be nice for once.” He grins.
Jongin is rather frustrated by this point, so instead of responding with words he tries to kiss him instead. His mouth tastes like noodles and tomatoes and whatever the hell else is in this pasta. There are still bits of food in Kyungsoo’s mouth because admittedly he hadn’t given the elder a chance to swallow before swooping in for the kiss. He’s grossed out for about two seconds until Kyungsoo is kissing him back and then he forgets all about half-eaten food bits and melts into the soft texture of Kyungsoo’s lips.
They somehow manages to make it through the rest of dinner without being too demoralizing after that. Most likely this occurs because his parents keep bursting into the kitchen, singing along to the music in a way that makes Jongin’s eardrums almost explode, to unearth bottles of cold champagne. This is all planned, Jongin pouts to himself, otherwise why would they be so prepared with the champagne?
“Well, since the living room’s taken I guess we can go to my room?” Jongin suggests. He’s on dish duty again while Kyungsoo shaves off the burnt bits and ices the cake. He tries not to think about how he’d very much like to lick the remaining icing off of his boyfriend’s fingers when he chances a glance over at Kyungsoo. Swirls of chocolate are painted across his fingers as he attempts to scrape the last bits of sugary goodness out of the mixing bowl.
“Sure.” Kyungsoo smiles and wipes his fingers on the apron Jongin forced him into knowing he’d make a mess. “Let me just put this in the fridge.”
Jongin is strange and likes to eat his cake cold instead of at room temperature. Kyungsoo used to complain that it made the frosting taste like a stick of sweet, cold, butter, but tonight he’s kind enough to cater to Jongin’s taste.
They finish washing the rest of the dishes together, fighting for sink space. Bubbles and puddles of water end up all over the kitchen in the process. Jongin eventually loses against Kyungsoo, his loss branded by the enormous wet spots overtaking his shirt while Kyungsoo’s looks practically pristine. Since Kyungsoo is the winner, he makes Jongin mop up all the puddles of water and wipe away the bubble bits.
“I thought you were going to be nice.” He sulks as he puts the mop back into the hallway closet.
Kyungsoo trails behind him, periodically prodding Jongin in the back because when he mopes he walks sluggishly slow and Kyungsoo is having none of that. “I changed my mind,” he hums. “It’s more fun this way.”
Jongin accidentally whacks him with the mop before locking it safely away in the closet. It’s not a very successful form of revenge seeing as it just makes Kyungsoo grin at him mischievously. Jongin wants to kiss the grin off his face and shove him in the closet with the mop so he learns his lesson. Except he knows that would probably just spurr Kyungsoo on tonight instead of stop him. He’s too feisty this evening and Jongin sort of likes that only maybe a little too much, though he’s not quite willing to show it.
“Don’t be petulant, Jonginnie.” Kyungsoo smiles reaches up to squish Jongin’s pouting cheeks.
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin warns, swatting the elder’s hands away though he is quickly losing resolve. They’re still standing in the middle of the hallway. Just a few feet away, his mother and father are still dancing around the living room, only now the T.V. has been unmuted. The sound of the celebration in New York City doesn't mesh well with Frank Sinatra but they don’t seem to care.
Kyungsoo sees the look of annoyance in Jongin’s eyes. But it’s melting away. He can see the cracks in it because he’s well accustomed to pushing Jongin’s limits and observing his reactions. He’s been doing that since they were little children, always the one to pull a shy Jongin along for an adventure. Most likely if Jongin ever came home with a scraped knee or covered in mud it was because of something fun Kyungsoo had dragged him along to do.
He also knows that he’s the only one that can get away with touching Jongin so much, since he shies away from most physical contact aside from an occasional hug from a family member. So Kyungsoo is defiant now, ignores the fact that his hand has been swatted away, and decides to poke Jongin’s cheek.
Jongin gapes at him. “I should have knocked you out with the mop.”
“That’d be no fun at all,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Worst date ever. Boyfriend passed out on the floor. I’d have to seek revenge when I revive myself.”
“Only if you ever wake up,” Jongin murmurs and quirks an eyebrow, but frowns again because Kyungsoo proceeds to poke him in the stomach. “Stop it!”
“You just threatened to put me into a permanent vegetative state, I think I can do what I like,” he retorts playfully and pinches Jongin’s other cheek. They are both now tinted red, though he can’t tell if that’s from the pinching or the fact that Jongin is blushing for some stupid reason. Or he just turns red when he’s angry.
Jongin glares at him and continues to pout.
Kyungsoo swoops in for another attack.
“Fucking childish,” Jongin growls and pushes Kyungsoo’s back against the closet door when he tries to tickle him for not responding. He’s highly amused by how much it makes Kyungsoo’s eyes pop open in surprises when his back thuds against the closet door. It’s enough to make the annoyance in him snap because he can never really be mad at Kyungsoo for this. His eyes crinkle into a smile when he thinks about it. This is why he likes Kyungsoo. There are too many reasons to love him, but this is one of his favorites. That they’ve never really been angry enough with each other to have a serious argument. The only time they seriously fought over anything was in grade school a few days after they first met, when Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him kick first during kickball because he was a year younger.
Kyungsoo’s shock turns into something more terrifying though, when he realizes how close Jongin is to him. Or at least it’s terrifying to Jongin, because he’s never quite seen Kyungsoo stare at him so intensely before. It’s one those looks that suddenly makes him realize how sweaty his palms are, how fast his heart is beating, and how his skin tingles in every place that they touch. It’s a little heady to absorb it all, but it makes him press forward despite the way it makes his stomach flutter nervously.
This is the look that Jongin used to dream about before finally working up the awkward courage to kiss him that night at the movies, and it’s terrifying because it’s not just a recurring dream. It’s reality.
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo breathes and looks up expectantly. His hands are pinned at his sides, Jongin’s warm fingers circled around his holding them in place. Even Jongin’s thighs have him glued to the wall and it makes him feel tiny, but not intimidated because this is Jongin, the silly little boy that he grew up with that is currently overthinking this situation far too much. He can practically see the younger boy’s brain swirling around in his head and it makes him smile a little.
“Stop thinking,” Kyungsoo fusses and forcefully detaches a hand from his grip so he can reach up and twine his fingers through Jongin’s hair.
“Okay,” Jongin whispers after barely a heartbeat and then tilts his head so he can kiss him.
Their lips fit together relatively smoothly and Jongin notes that he still tastes like pasta, except sweeter because he probably stole a few licks of frosting. Chocolate frosting and salty pasta sauce is not the best flavor combination but Jongin doesn’t care, too distracted by Kyungsoo’s teeth nibbling on his lower lip and his tongue swiping across the chewed flesh. It’s maddeningly distracting to the point where he doesn’t even hear the sounds from the living room anymore.
He slips his newly freed fingers up underneath the fabric of Kyungsoo shirt and presses his palm into the soft flesh of his stomach. If this were any other time he’d make a little joke about Kyungsoo having a tiny little food baby after eating so much pasta. But this isn’t any other time. Other times wouldn’t involve Kyungsoo letting out a little gurgle of approval and leaning into Jongin’s touch. This isn’t even like the other times that they’ve kissed since their first one and Jongin suspects it has a lot to do with the terrifying look Kyungsoo had in his eyes a few moments ago.
Kyungsoo curls his fingers tighter into Jongin’s hair when he pulls away from his lips and starts pressing kisses into his neck. Sure, Jongin has kissed people before, but he’s never wanted to kiss someone like this so badly. He’s never wanted to suck bruises onto the soft flesh of someone’s neck and run his nose teasingly across their jaw before kissing them on the lips again. There’s so much he wants to do at one time that he almost can’t make up his mind and it makes him overeager and probably a little too rough, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. He just smiles against Jongin’s lips and sighs into another kiss.
“O-oh my...”
Jongin jumps away from Kyungsoo like a frightened kitten and does his best not to stare guiltily at the person standing at the opposite end of the hallway because it is most definitely his mother. His mother just caught him very heatedly making out with his boyfriend in the middle of the hallway of their own home. Jongin wants to die. Jongin wants to reclaim the mop and whack his mother over the head with it to jog her memory.
“Oh hey Mrs. Kim.” Kyungsoo smiles, arm latched around Jongin’s waist to stop him from skittering away. Kyungsoo is a sadist.
“I just came to get the mop,” she says, eyeing Jongin suspiciously. Why isn’t she giving Kyungsoo the same look? He was kissing too. Oh my God. “Your father spilled champagne on the floor.”
Jongin nods meekly as Kyungsoo pulls him away from the closet. Oh good, they’re drunk. Maybe they won’t remember this. Except that his mother clearly hasn’t had enough to not be sober enough to mop up the alcohol. He can feel her eyes following them as they walk towards his bedroom. This is horribly incriminating.
“You look like a tomato,” Kyungsoo giggles when they’re secured in Jongin’s bedroom, the latter of which has now cocooned himself in his blankets so he can live out his misery in unobserved safety.
“C’mon, don’t be embarrassed Jongin,” Kyungsoo says and gives what he thinks is Jongin’s shoulder a shove. “It’s just kissing. I’m sure you’ve seen other people in your family kiss before. Remember that one time we caught your sister-”
“Stop!” Jongin suddenly yells and pokes his head out from under the blankets. “I don’t want to remember that. I’m still scarred.” He shivers and scrunches his face.
“Then don’t be such a baby.” Kyungsoo lies down next to Jongin and props himself up on his elbows so his chin is resting in the palm of his hands. “It’s just kissing.”
Jongin pokes his tongue out at Kyungsoo and gives him a look of pure disdain before popping it back under the covers. No, this is mortifying. He doesn’t even know how he ever found the courage to kiss Kyungsoo at that movie theater or the desire to do so at the zoo. Still, neither of those moments seem as embarrassing as this. I mean, this is his family. They're supposed to think of him as innocent and pure for eternity even if he isn’t.
“Really though, Jongin,” Kyungsoo sighs and flops on his side so he’s facing the blob of blankets where Jongin is hiding. “It could have been worse.” Tentatively, he tugs at the blankets covering Jongin’s head. “Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about us, about people seeing us or knowing that we’re together, ever. I want you to feel comfortable about us, even though admittedly it’s a bit weird when your parents catch you doing intimate things with someone. You didn’t care at the zoo.”
“The zoo wasn’t filled with my entire family,” he groans. “But yeah. I’m sorry. I do feel comfortable about us and our relationship, I just... I wasn’t expecting that. I think the root of my mortification comes more from the shock of the moment. But no, I don’t feel embarrassed about us.”
“Good.” Kyungsoo smiles and reaches over to fiddle with Jongin’s messy hair. It’s gone all staticy from rubbing against the banket. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re pretty good at kissing despite your inexperience with relationships.”
Jongin smirks. “Well, I learned from the best.”
“Hmm, good point.” Kyungsoo eyes him for a moment. “Amber was good at kissing.”
Thwack!
“What? Hey don’t hit me with a pillow!” Kyungsoo gasps and recoils from Jongin who’s leapt out of his blankets with the ferocity of a hunting panther. So much for skittish little kitten...
“Kyungsoo?!”
“What, that was an accident freshman year? Way before you ever sort of not really dated. I thought you knew.” Kyungsoo furrows his brow and frowns. Jongin knows practically everything about him, so how could he not know this.
“Ooohhh,” Jongin says, dragging out the sound as his brain struggles to piece together the memory. “That’s who that girl was at that party? The one you told me you kissed but didn’t know the name of? No wonder she kept giving you the evil eye when we were dating,” he snorts.
“Yeah. My mistake. She was kinda the final proof of my gayness. She was good at kissing, but man she just wasn’t, well, a man,” he sighs.
“Yeah, same here,” he laughs.
Jongin laughs because yeah, she was basically his turning point as well. For the majority of high school he’d wondered a lot of things about himself. Why he’d rather stare at pictures of shirtless men in magazines than women in bikinis and super short skirts. That awkward time in P.E. when he’d gotten hard from tackling some boy named Joonmyun while playing football. He just kept ignoring it though, even after Kyungsoo confessed to him that he was gay which sent Jongin’s mind spiraling in a million different directions. Kyungsoo could come to terms with himself, but Jongin was pretty much in denial until Amber broke up with him. She’s even the one who’d first asked him if he was gay. He tries not to remember the look on her face when he nodded yes.
“I’m curious though. I’ve told you almost everything about what I’ve done or haven’t done or wanted to do, but you don’t tell me much. You wouldn’t even tell me about the first time you kissed someone,” Kyungsoo says, snapping Jongin out of his thoughts.
“So?” Jongin narrows his eyes and looks at Kyungsoo questioningly.
“Have you ever...?” Kyungsoo trails off suggestively, fingers still twisting in Jongin’s hair.
“Have I ever what?” he asks, and then it dawns on him. “Oh… um no… when would I? I mean, I’ve only ever had one official girlfriend and that was a fail.”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know what you do in college. You’re in a fraternity after all.”
As if that’s supposed to mean something. Jongin rolls his eyes. “You don’t know? Oh come on, you know exactly what I do in college. I’ve told you probably everything I’ve ever done, which isn’t much I’ll have you know.”
“Sure… You just, you know, go to parties and sit there lamely and never associate with other human beings. Don’t tell me you just go to parties and act the same way you did in high school for the few that you went to?” Kyungsoo says incredulously.
“Except I drink now because there’s better alcohol. But, anyways, I’m an observer, not a doer.”
Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow. “Well, that’s kinky.”
“Ugh no, that’s not what I meant, oh my God… You’re just getting this all wrong. I mean you can go to parties and not do those things.” Jongin flushes.
Kyungsoo muffles his laughter by burying his head into the pillow he got slapped with.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Jongin frowns.
“Maybe,” he says cheekily, words slightly muffled by the pillow.
“I’m unfriending you,” Jongin huffs.
“Does this mean we’re breaking up?” Kyungsoo says with faux-anger. He yanks the blankets off of Jongin’s body. He tries to grapple for purchase on the blanket but can’t manage to hold it tight enough and ends up with his back pressed against the mattress with Kyungsoo straddling his hips.
“No, I said I’m unfriending you, not unboyfriending you,” he clarifies, staring up at Kyungsoo’s teasing eyes.
“I don’t see much of a difference with that, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Well there is,” he huffs and crosses his arms petulantly.
“Sure.” Kyungsoo smiles and leans down to press a chaste kiss to Jongin’s lips. “I’m sure there’s a huge difference.”
“Massive,” Jongin says and catches Kyungsoo before he sits up, wanting to kiss him again. After being so rudely disrupted earlier he isn’t sure that such a light kiss is satisfying enough for the moment.
Kyungsoo topples on top of him a little ungracefully at first before he manages to steady himself by propping up on his forearms on either side of Jongin’s head. The position strains his muscles, but he’d rather not just completely collapse on Jongin and knock all his breath out of him. It’s hard to kiss someone if you strangle them. This kiss isn’t quite as heated as before, but he’d like it to be.
“Jongin?” Kyungsoo murmurs and pulls away. He rests his forehead on Jongin’s, eyes watching him probingly, searching for answers to a question that he hasn’t even asked yet.
“Hmm?”
“Would you mind if I do something?”
“Something?” Jongin says curiously. “What something?” For once, Kyungsoo is the one that looks nervous and he doesn’t like it. He’s too used to it being the other way around.
Kyungsoo sucks in a breath and bites his lip. “There’s really no elegant way to say this, but can I...” Maybe it’s too soon to ask, he thinks briefly but then remembers that it’s not really, not if you consider how long the two of them have been together even when they weren’t dating. “Can I suck you off?”
“What?” Jongin flares and rushes to sit up, ungracefully smashing their foreheads together.
Kyungsoo winces at the pain and Jongin’s reaction.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jongin apologizes and latches onto Kyungsoo’s face as if that’s somehow supposed to ease the pain. “I just--what did you say?”
Kyungsoo gives Jongin a pointed look but complies. “I want to suck your cock,” he says bitingly. Preferably without a headache.
Jongin stiffens underneath him. It’s a very enticing proposition at the moment, considering that his whole body has been more than slightly buzzing since Kyungsoo straddled his hips and started kissing him again. On the other hand he wasn’t expecting that at all and he’s panicking because his family is home and he doesn't think he can stand another accidental interruption.
“Kyungsoo you wouldn’t even let me kiss you at the zoo and you want to do this while my family is home,” Jongin whines. There is clearly something unjust about this situation.
“First of all, that kiss would have been in front of everyone. Poor innocent children, Jongin. And second of all, your family is in the living room blasting Frank Sinatra and dancing their way through the New Year. If you’re quiet they won’t even know”
Jongin blinks at him a few times and flushes pink. There is logic to his statements, he concedes, but he can’t get the mortifying image of his siblings or his parents interrupting them in the middle of things, especially after what happened earlier. Who’s to say his mother won’t barge in at any moment and pull them into the living room to join in the dancing. Or, even worse, what if his mother already suspects that they’re up to something because she caught them making out.
“Relax, Jongin. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.” Kyungsoo grins, though Jongin can tell it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Jongin snakes his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist and tugs him closer so he can bury his face in his shoulder.
“I do want...” he says after a few moments. In fact, he wants it a lot. If Kyungsoo’s lips already feel so nice just kissing him, he can’t imagine how nice they would feel wrapped around his dick. Just the thought of it already starts to make him hard. “Just, for God’s sake, please lock the door. I don’t think I can handle another run in with my mother.”
Kyungsoo pulls Jongin’s head away from his shoulder, laughing. “Okay,” he agrees, kissing Jongin one more time before climbing off of his lap and locking the bedroom door.
Jongin is already mourning the loss of the feeling of Kyungsoo pressed against him, but within in moments he hears the click of the lock and Kyungsoo is climbing back onto his lap. At least the sound of music and the T.V. is muted by his bedroom walls or he wouldn’t be able to handle this at all.
“Just relax,” Kyungsoo says, kissing him again. “You won’t enjoy it if you’re too uptight.”
He allows Kyungsoo to push him back down onto the bed in almost the same position as before, only Kyungsoo seems more comfortable leaning over him and pressing their lips together. He doesn’t strain to hold himself up so much on his elbows. Instead he lets his weight push the two of them closer together, more adamant about touching every part of Jongin he can at one time.
This is the part that Jongin is still relatively familiar with, kissing and touching already exposed skin. Losing himself in the taste of Kyungsoo’s mouth and the feel of wet lips and tongue across his neck and collarbone. Somehow it’s still different though, just like kissing him in the hallway had been. He bet if he caught Kyungsoo’s eye he’d have that same terrifying look in his eyes and it makes him swallow hard. Kyungsoo responds to this by sucking harder on his neck and grinding their hips together. Jongin whimpers, already getting a little too hard in his pants for comfort.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Kyungsoo groans and pulls away from Jongin’s neck.
“Oh...” Jongin says dumbly, wanting to ask exactly how long he’s been wanting to do this? As long as he has dreamt of moments like this occurring, or even longer? He stops himself from asking though when he sees that look in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Not nearly as terrifying as before, but still a little too intense for him to handle. He wonders if he has the same look in his own eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.” He gulps.
“Like what?” Kyungsoo blinks and sits up.
“Like you already love me...” he stammers.
Kyungsoo gazes at him for a moment. He slides his palms across Jongin’s chest, pushing his shirt up in the process. He watches the expanses of golden skin as he pushes at the fabric. Skin that he’s been itching to touch for longer than just a normal friend should. Days and nights of dreaming of kissing down smooth skin and soaking in every little sound of pleasure.
“Maybe I do? Maybe I have for a long time,” he concludes, refusing to meet Jongin’s eye. Instead he watches his fingers glide across the tips of Jongin’s exposed hip bones. “I-I’m sorry, I’m making this awkward. I shouldn’t be saying this right now.”
Jongin struggles to sit up and grab Kyungsoo’s chin so he can force the older man to look him in the eye. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t take it back. You told me not to be embarrassed, so don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Please.”
“But you just told me-”
“No buts,” Jongin warns and kisses Kyungsoo’s cheek. “I just wasn’t expecting this to be so intense already? I mean, I’ve liked you for years, if I think about it, even if I wouldn’t even admit that I like men. But I just, I wasn’t expecting to learn that you’ve wanted this for so long, that you maybe already look at me like you love me because you’ve loved me for a long time. I wasn’t even sure you’d want me in this way when I kissed you for the first time.”
“Oh god, you’re stupid,” Kyungsoo laughs shakily. “Didn’t think I’d want you. Ridiculous,” he murmurs and starts peppering kisses across Jongin’s jaw. “I’ve liked you for fucking ever. I just didn’t think you’d like me. You never seemed interesting in anything really, even when you were with Amber, and I didn’t want to push things because you’re such a sheltered dweeb. I thought I’d frighten you away.”
Frighten him away? Impossible. “So we’re both stupid then?” Jongin snorts.
“Yes. Incredibly so,” he agrees. “Because I think I already love you. And you don’t have to say it back yet, but I know you will, because you probably already do too,” he says smugly and pushes Jongin back down onto the bed. “And that’s why you’re going to let me do this. Because you’ve wanted it for forever too.”
Jongin can’t stop himself from smiling too widely when Kyungsoo resumes the task of kissing his neck. Confident Kyungsoo is back and it makes him giddy. Though he’s not quite used to him being reduced to a nervous mushball, he can’t say he didn’t like it. If anything, it’s what helps him relax even further when Kyungsoo unzips his jeans, tugging them down and then rubbing teasingly at his erection through his boxer briefs. It’s nice knowing that Kyungsoo is just as nervous and bubbly about this at times like he is.
It’s what stops him from recoiling in embarrassment when both his jeans and his boxer briefs are completely kicked to the floor and Kyungsoo’s fingers are gliding over the flesh of his thighs, lips just centimeters away from where he’d like them to be. Kyungsoo looks up at him again, one hand already massaging the base, just to make sure one last time that Jongin is okay with this. Though really, at this point, how could he not be okay with this? Already so worked up and needing some way to come down.
Jongin nods his head. “Please,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to have to beg, and he knows that Kyungsoo is just being extra cautious with him. Scared little kitten Jongin. Except right now he’s really horny and would rather not run away from this.
Kyungsoo smiles, thumb running over the slit before he replaces his fingers with his mouth.
Jongin doesn’t quite know what he was expecting from this, other than knowing that it was going to feel good, so he’s a little unprepared for it to feel as good as it actually does and he barely manages to muffle his moan with his hand. The last thing he wants is to be louder than Frank Sinatra and the whole of New York City.
“Fuck.” He curls his fingers into the blanket when manages to quiet himself, trying to stop himself from thrusting up into his boyfriend’s mouth. Something tells him Kyungsoo wouldn’t be very happy with that. Kyungsoo hums appreciatively but presses Jongin’s hip down onto the bed with his free hand just as a precaution. A good idea, Jongin thinks, because certainly the humming around his cock is not helping his self control.
He tries to restrict himself to embarrassing whines and heavy breathing in attempt to not be heard throughout the house, but when Kyungsoo stops teasing, takes as much of his length in as possible, and sucks hard he can’t stop himself. His cheeks blush an incredibly deep shade of pink in embarrassment and he can feel Kyungsoo laughing around him. Thank god that door is locked because he’s pretty sure that sound was not contained by his room. (Thank god for New York City and a crowded Time Square.)
Kyungsoo releases his grip from Jongin’s hip and starts drifting down his thigh. His hips jerk forward a little harsher than they should when the wandering fingers start massaging the parts of his butt that aren’t pressed into the mattress. Kyungsoo’s other hand is still toying with the base of his cock as his mouth laps at the rest of it. Tongue wet and slurping and too hot. The heat builds in Jongin’s stomach far more quickly than he’d like because this is something that he’d like to have go on forever. He knows he’s far too close to the end when his thighs start to quiver a little and his abdominal muscles start to clench.
“God... getting too close,” he gasps out.
Kyungsoo gives Jongin’s cock one more good suck before pulling off completely and replacing his mouth his hand. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo hums. His other free hand still massaging his thigh. “If there’s one thing you must know, aside from not putting out on the first date, I don’t swallow.”
If Jongin weren’t about to come he’d laugh, remembering what Kyungsoo had said a few days ago at the zoo. He nods his head weakly before letting it roll backwards, a moan building in his throat as he arches into Kyungsoo’s tugging fingers. Luckily, he doesn’t moan as embarrassingly loud as he did early when he comes in Kyungsoo’s hand, spray across his stomach and Kyungsoo’s pales fingers. He’s also lucky that his shirt is still pressed up to the top of his chest from before otherwise he’d have a lot of explaining to do when his mother wanted to do laundry.
“Good?” Kyungsoo asks, watching Jongin’s chest rise and fall erratically as he comes back to his senses.
“More than good,” he whispers, almost too spent to say more.
“You’re gorgeous.” Kyungsoo smiles after a few moments and lets his eyes wander over the person lying beneath him. Turned-on Jongin is beautiful, but satiated Jongin is amazing. Lazy and glowing with satisfaction.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
“Jongin, I just watched you orgasm all over yourself and my hand. I think blushing is the least of your worries.”
Way to ruin the moment, he thinks, but when he looks down at himself he blushes anyways. “Ugh, you’re right,” he grumbles, “I’m covered in my own…”
“Come?” Kyungsoo says very cheekily when the words get stuck in Jongin’s throat.
“Yes,” he snaps. It’s funny how quickly he can return to being an embarrassed little kitty and how quickly Kyungsoo can become a jerk.
“Tissues?” Kyungsoo questions.
“Desk,” Jongin replies, jerking his head in the direction where a box of tissue sits perched on his very messy desk.
Kyungsoo removes himself from Jongin’s lap and walks towards the desk. He doesn’t mean for his eyes to follow the line of Kyungsoo’s very obvious erection when he stands up, but he can’t help it. He shivers happily knowing that he’s the reason it happened.
“What?” the elder questions when he returns to Jongin, box of tissues in hand. He’s already wiped his own fingers clean.
Jongin shakes his head and smiles as Kyungsoo attempts to clean his stomach.
“No really, what is it?” he presses when he gets up to toss the dirtied tissue into the garbage can by the desk.
Jongin stands up as well and tugs back on his boxers because he doesn’t exactly want to walk around with just a shirt on. He follows Kyungsoo over to the desk and spins him around to kiss once he’s dropped the tissues into the wastebasket. His fingers tug on the belt loops of Kyungsoo’s jeans until his erection rubs up against his thigh and the elder lets out a strangled whimper.
“That’s what,” he smiles
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo murmurs against Jongin’s lips and tangles his fingers in his hair. “You don’t have to do what I did.”
“I don’t want to do that. I don’t think I trust myself enough to do it at the moment, but I can at least do this,” he says and tugs at the zipper of Kyungsoo’s jeans so he can pull them down enough to get his hand into Kyungsoo’s boxers.
“Oh,” Kyungsoo says quietly, leaning into the touch. His head droops to Jongin’s shoulder when he starts jerking him off in earnest. Luckily he’s backed up against the desk otherwise he’d end up toppling all of his weight onto Jongin when he eventually comes.
Jongin still feels giddy about getting Kyungsoo so riled up when the elder finally leans away to grab for more tissues. Dutifully, he wipes Jongin’s fingers and himself clean. He tucks himself back into his pants and then leans up to give Jongin a brief kiss.
“Hyung,” Jongin grins mischievously, “I think I like second dates better.”
Kyungsoo snorts and gives him a scandalized look before smiling. “Me too.”
Jongin nearly jolts out of his skin when he hears screams of joy erupt from the living room. Oh right, his parents are here. His eyes travel to the clock sitting on his desk. It’s 11 p.m. here which means it’s midnight in New York. “Happy New Year,” he chirps and waves his arms around stupidly. It’s a very lame way of trying to cover up how he nearly had a panic attack because of the sudden screams.
“Yeah, in New York, you dork. Doesn’t count until you say it at midnight our time and that’s another hour away.”
“You’re incredibly literal when you feel like being an asshole,” he skulks.
Kyungsoo shrugs. “Want some cake?”
“Okay,” Jongin grins because cake definitely sounds like a good idea.
He demands that they sneak into the kitchen as silently as possible, not wanting be seen by his parents considering he probably still looks like a mess even though all the evidence has been wiped off of his skin. They almost make it back safely except his very cherubic, intoxicated father stumbles into the hallway and pulls him into an uncoordinated hug and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Kyungsoo is only spared because he’s holding the cake (which they decided to not slice and just confiscate the whole thing) and eating utensils.
“Yeah, Happy New Year, dad,” he mumbles and scrambles to detach himself from his father’s grip.
“Honey,” his dad calls from the hallway, “Come wish Jongin and Kyungsoo a happy New Year!” he slurs excitedly.
Oh hell no. “Oh no, that’s really not necessary,” Jongin says hysterically and removes himself from the hug. “She can just say it to me tomorrow.”
Once free of his impending doom, the two of them skitter down the hallway and back into his bedroom. They make a makeshift table out of old high school text books to put the cake on because Jongin’s desk is too dirty. Kyungsoo whines that Jongin should really consider cleaning his room. Jongin retorts by saying he’d rather watch Kyungsoo clean his room for him since he’s the neat freak. He nearly gets his finger stabbed with a fork and there are threats made about tossing the cake out of his bedroom window, but luckily no threats about breaking up because those are really the most stupid ones.
They spend their last hour of the year eating cake (which only tastes a little burnt) and discussing New Year resolutions that neither of them will probably stick too. But it’s the thought that counts, they both conclude, except for when Jongin says that Kyungsoo should add “not being an asshole” to his list. When the two of them are done eating far too much sugar they start attacking each other with frosting coated fingers.
Kyungsoo sniggers and draws a frosting mustache against Jongin’s upper lip saying “Oh look, you’ve finally matured.”
Jongin gives Kyungsoo a pointed look. If he’s only just matured then how the hell did he manage to get so aroused earlier, he wants to retort, but decides on a different method of retaliation. As punishment Kyungsoo ends up with a ridiculous amount of frosting coated across his cheeks. He shrieks in disdain and demands the Jongin clean it off, except that was probably a bad idea because instead of using tissues Jongin decides to slobber all over his face like a dog.
The New Year comes when the two of them are curled up quietly on Jongin’s bed, cake abandoned on the floor as they listen to the music that’s still playing in the living room. Kyungsoo’s the first one to say it this time. His voice floats out soothingly between them. He curls his fingers tightly into Jongin’s shirt to pull him closer so he can give him a New Year kiss that tastes like frosting and feels like the beginning of forever.
Jongin can only smile and hope that last part is true.
a/n: if you made it through my horrible attempt at something smutty i commend you ;~; never gonna try that again.... happy very late new year.....
you better be happy delva XD (i promise to work on your taoris next, though it will probably be a long while
before i post it since i'll be in korea for the next four months and should spend my time exploring and not
writing fics hehe)
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Rating: NC-17 (I'm ashamed ;~;)
Length: ~8000
Summary: Second dates are better (aka Kyungsoo continues to threaten his boyfriend and Jongin acts like a scared kitten).
A/N: This is embarrassing for me on so many levels... I cannot.... Why did I write this? I swore I would never attempt to write smut on any level *sobs* Also, the title is taken from a lovely song by Frank Sinatra
I would not read this without reading *THIS* first, otherwise some things might not make as much sense. Or you can just go ahead and read it anyways (*cough* your loss *cough*). It’s up to you c:
The Way You Look Tonight
In the grand scheme of things, four days is a relatively short time, unless you happen to have been one of Jongin’s pet goldfish in your past life (then that’s about the halfway point in your life). But, most likely, you have never been, nor will you ever be (because he’s sworn off pet fish) one of Jongin’s goldfish. However, if you are Jongin himself, and you are impatient and all too ecstatic to see your beloved boyfriend again, then four days is a fucking long ass time. Too long.
It also doesn’t help that he hasn’t been able to contact Kyungsoo for these past few days because he’s been visiting relatives at some log cabin in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere. Probably freezing to death and/or losing important appendages to frostbite, as Jongin dramatically whined to his mother. Needless to say, his family has been short on tolerating an unusually needy Jongin these past few days. In fact, by the eve of day four they threaten to kick him out of the house. His eldest sister even jokes that perhaps he should camp outside of Kyungsoo’s house and wait for his return. But then he’d also most likely freeze to death and/or lose important appendages, so he bites his tongue and manages to keep all the neediness to an internal pining.
Somehow he manages to convinces himself to go to bed by midnight instead of waiting up for a text from Kyungsoo saying that he’s returned (apparently he’s getting in at some horrible hour in the morning like 3 a.m.). But in true lovesick fashion he wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing at 2:45 and only manages to suppress an obnoxiously loud squeal of excitement when he reads Kyungsoo’s “I’m home, see you later today ;)” text because he’s half asleep. He wants to text back, in fact he starts saying it outloud in a sleep-heavy tone that he needs to text him back, but he ends up passing out while hugging the phone to his chest. He’s a little embarrassed that he wakes up hugging his phone like it’s Kyungsoo himself, but he brushes it off since there are far more embarrassing things he could wake up doing.
They could go out for their date, after all it is New Year’s Eve, and that’s what most exciting people do. But Kyungsoo does not want to just get wasted at some party (though Sehun had sent Jongin a text inviting him to one) nor does he want to spend a million dollars on going out to a nice place to eat. So this apparently means that he’s going to take over Jongin’s kitchen and subject it to all of his cooking experiments.
Though Jongin has faith that everything they eat tonight will be absolutely delicious, he can only pray that Kyungsoo doesn’t explode the oven or microwave while his family is attending a New Year party at their neighbors. Almost everything Kyungsoo has made for Jongin in the past has been exceptionally tasty, but he winces when thinks about how many blenders, plates, and stirring utensils he’s managed to destroy in the process. Not to mention the numerous cuts and that one time he nearly cut his thumb of while chopping celery and they had to rush him to the emergency room. The outcome of his efforts may always taste amazing, but the process of creating those tasty treats has a record for being a deadly.
“Please, Jongin,” Kyungsoo sighs and rolls his eyes while creaming together butter and sugar. “The worst I’ll do tonight is intentionally shove you in the oven with the cake because you keep fretting over your kitchen appliances.”
“That definitely falls into the Destroy My Kitchen theory, though. These ovens aren’t built for cremation. Not to mention you’ll destroy the cake,” Jongin scoffs. Why is it that Kyungsoo always has to threaten him?
“Well, I’ll still be able to eat dinner, and you guys always have some form of ice cream in your freezer so I don’t have to worry about dessert if I can’t eat cake,” he shrugs.
Jongin pouts and wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, pushing his face obnoxiously into the crook of his neck as the elder attempts to finish making the cake batter. “But then you’ll miss me,” he mumbles into Kyungsoo’s skin.
Kyungsoo shrugs but doesn’t try to detach that leech that is Jongin from his body. Of course he’d miss the stupid child if he baked him in the oven in with the cake but, more importantly, he’d also spend the rest of his life in jail.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Well, for starters, you can stop breathing down my neck and measure out the chocolate chips.”
In response, Jongin burrows his head deeper (if such a thing is possible) into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Where are they?” he says into the elder’s shoulder.
All Kyungsoo hears is “Wherkajfnakuey?” so he decides to spin around and shove Jongin off of him with a scandalized look. “Excuse me?”
“I said, where are they?”
Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow and snorts, “How the hell would I know? This is your kitchen after all.”
“Oh right,” Jongin grins and begins his epic search for chocolate chips (he’s not even sure they have any because he didn’t actually check when Kyungsoo asked him to earlier in the day).
This may be his kitchen, but he’s been away at school for the past four months which is apparently plenty of time for his mother to go on a reorganizing spree around the house. He nearly had a panic attack when he couldn’t find where she’d hidden the toilet paper when he really had to take a shit and there was none left in the bathroom. The chocolate chips seem to be equally misplaced, only it doesn’t stress him out nearly as much as the toilet paper incident. It does, however, make Kyungsoo start whining and offer more death threats when he’s ready to add the chocolate chips to the batter and Jongin has yet to find them.
It’s a blessing, Jongin thinks to himself once he’s finally measured out the appropriate amount of chocolate, that he is dating such a wonderful person, death threats and all. At least he gets cake (unless he ends up in the oven, Kyungsoo reminds him).
While the cake bakes in the oven, luckily Jongin free, Kyungsoo sets himself on finishing up dinner while Jongin does dishes (poor baby). He’d wanted to make something fancy for dinner, like beef bourguignon but, being under twenty-one, neither of them were capable of convincing their parents to buy them an entire bottle of red wine (which is especially baffling when Jongin thinks about how his parents have no qualms with occasionally letting him drink a glass or two of it when they have some). Instead, Kyungsoo resigns to making some delicious form of pasta that Jongin can’t pronounce the name of because his Italian is super fail.
Since Kyungsoo is in control of the cooking, and because Jongin is speedy at cleaning up (“It’s called a dishwasher,” Jongin points out) he is put in charge of taking the cake out of the oven when the timer dings. And, of course, since Kyungsoo is such a lovely individual, he pretends to kick him into the oven when Jongin bends down to precariously remove the cake. He nearly has a heart attack and throws that cake at Kyungsoo, but his appetite wins out and he manages to put the cake on the countertop before violently whacking Kyungsoo with the oven mits in a very mature manner. He hopes the pasta dish burns (but not really because he’s a hungry growing boy).
“Kyungsoo, I think my oven killed your cake...” Jongin says when he’s had enough of attacking Kyungsoo with the oven mitts and turns around to look at their, uh, masterpiece of a baked good. It’s more than a little toasty around the edges even though they’ve done everything correctly.
Kyungsoo peers around the hands he’s held up to shield himself from the onslaught of Jongin’s attack and giggles. “Well, I guess we can just shave off the edges when we unmold it. I’m going to cover it with frosting anyways."
Jongin attempts to poke the burnt edge of the cake with an unsatisfied growl but Kyungsoo is beside him within a heartbeat, swatting his hand away.
“You’ll burn yourself,” he chides, but it makes Jongin snort in amusement because just a few minutes again his boyfriend was trying to shove him into the heat of the oven, not protect him from burns. So typically of their relationship. He doesn’t even want to know what people would think of them from an outsiders perspective. One minute they’re jokingly abusing each other and they next they’re being all mushy. It must seem disgusting and wrong. Thank God his parents aren’t here to witness it.
Only he speaks a little too soon on the parents not being here part because halfway through dinner they return. Apparently his mom is starting to feel a bit “under the weather” so they’ve come back early. She must not be that sick though because a few minutes after they flutter around the kitchen, unceremoniously interrupting Jongin trying to feed Kyungsoo noodles, they take over the living room and start dancing to Frank Sinatra songs while the television glows silently in the background. They were supposed to stay out at least until the ball dropped in New York, but now they’re home early, ruining Jongin’s date. He hates how much this makes Kyungsoo laugh and pinch his cheeks for being a petulant child.
“How do we even manage to get along without killing each other?” Jongin says and detaches Kyungsoo’s hand from his face, rather exasperated by his boyfriend’s abominable behaviour.
“We’re very alike,” Kyungsoo says earnestly after a bite of pasta.
Music from the living room drifts into the kitchen and it’s driving Jongin insane. He’d really hoped to have the evening to themselves. Part of him wants to shove the plate full of pasta into Kyungsoo’s face for being so amused by this.
“No, you’re meaner,” he says after a few moments of contemplation.
Kyungsoo freezes mid-bite and cocks his head to one side. “You’re right. I’m the worst.”
“Hyung, this is where you’re supposed to disagree with me….” Jongin whines.
“I thought I’d be nice for once.” He grins.
Jongin is rather frustrated by this point, so instead of responding with words he tries to kiss him instead. His mouth tastes like noodles and tomatoes and whatever the hell else is in this pasta. There are still bits of food in Kyungsoo’s mouth because admittedly he hadn’t given the elder a chance to swallow before swooping in for the kiss. He’s grossed out for about two seconds until Kyungsoo is kissing him back and then he forgets all about half-eaten food bits and melts into the soft texture of Kyungsoo’s lips.
They somehow manages to make it through the rest of dinner without being too demoralizing after that. Most likely this occurs because his parents keep bursting into the kitchen, singing along to the music in a way that makes Jongin’s eardrums almost explode, to unearth bottles of cold champagne. This is all planned, Jongin pouts to himself, otherwise why would they be so prepared with the champagne?
“Well, since the living room’s taken I guess we can go to my room?” Jongin suggests. He’s on dish duty again while Kyungsoo shaves off the burnt bits and ices the cake. He tries not to think about how he’d very much like to lick the remaining icing off of his boyfriend’s fingers when he chances a glance over at Kyungsoo. Swirls of chocolate are painted across his fingers as he attempts to scrape the last bits of sugary goodness out of the mixing bowl.
“Sure.” Kyungsoo smiles and wipes his fingers on the apron Jongin forced him into knowing he’d make a mess. “Let me just put this in the fridge.”
Jongin is strange and likes to eat his cake cold instead of at room temperature. Kyungsoo used to complain that it made the frosting taste like a stick of sweet, cold, butter, but tonight he’s kind enough to cater to Jongin’s taste.
They finish washing the rest of the dishes together, fighting for sink space. Bubbles and puddles of water end up all over the kitchen in the process. Jongin eventually loses against Kyungsoo, his loss branded by the enormous wet spots overtaking his shirt while Kyungsoo’s looks practically pristine. Since Kyungsoo is the winner, he makes Jongin mop up all the puddles of water and wipe away the bubble bits.
“I thought you were going to be nice.” He sulks as he puts the mop back into the hallway closet.
Kyungsoo trails behind him, periodically prodding Jongin in the back because when he mopes he walks sluggishly slow and Kyungsoo is having none of that. “I changed my mind,” he hums. “It’s more fun this way.”
Jongin accidentally whacks him with the mop before locking it safely away in the closet. It’s not a very successful form of revenge seeing as it just makes Kyungsoo grin at him mischievously. Jongin wants to kiss the grin off his face and shove him in the closet with the mop so he learns his lesson. Except he knows that would probably just spurr Kyungsoo on tonight instead of stop him. He’s too feisty this evening and Jongin sort of likes that only maybe a little too much, though he’s not quite willing to show it.
“Don’t be petulant, Jonginnie.” Kyungsoo smiles reaches up to squish Jongin’s pouting cheeks.
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin warns, swatting the elder’s hands away though he is quickly losing resolve. They’re still standing in the middle of the hallway. Just a few feet away, his mother and father are still dancing around the living room, only now the T.V. has been unmuted. The sound of the celebration in New York City doesn't mesh well with Frank Sinatra but they don’t seem to care.
Kyungsoo sees the look of annoyance in Jongin’s eyes. But it’s melting away. He can see the cracks in it because he’s well accustomed to pushing Jongin’s limits and observing his reactions. He’s been doing that since they were little children, always the one to pull a shy Jongin along for an adventure. Most likely if Jongin ever came home with a scraped knee or covered in mud it was because of something fun Kyungsoo had dragged him along to do.
He also knows that he’s the only one that can get away with touching Jongin so much, since he shies away from most physical contact aside from an occasional hug from a family member. So Kyungsoo is defiant now, ignores the fact that his hand has been swatted away, and decides to poke Jongin’s cheek.
Jongin gapes at him. “I should have knocked you out with the mop.”
“That’d be no fun at all,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Worst date ever. Boyfriend passed out on the floor. I’d have to seek revenge when I revive myself.”
“Only if you ever wake up,” Jongin murmurs and quirks an eyebrow, but frowns again because Kyungsoo proceeds to poke him in the stomach. “Stop it!”
“You just threatened to put me into a permanent vegetative state, I think I can do what I like,” he retorts playfully and pinches Jongin’s other cheek. They are both now tinted red, though he can’t tell if that’s from the pinching or the fact that Jongin is blushing for some stupid reason. Or he just turns red when he’s angry.
Jongin glares at him and continues to pout.
Kyungsoo swoops in for another attack.
“Fucking childish,” Jongin growls and pushes Kyungsoo’s back against the closet door when he tries to tickle him for not responding. He’s highly amused by how much it makes Kyungsoo’s eyes pop open in surprises when his back thuds against the closet door. It’s enough to make the annoyance in him snap because he can never really be mad at Kyungsoo for this. His eyes crinkle into a smile when he thinks about it. This is why he likes Kyungsoo. There are too many reasons to love him, but this is one of his favorites. That they’ve never really been angry enough with each other to have a serious argument. The only time they seriously fought over anything was in grade school a few days after they first met, when Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him kick first during kickball because he was a year younger.
Kyungsoo’s shock turns into something more terrifying though, when he realizes how close Jongin is to him. Or at least it’s terrifying to Jongin, because he’s never quite seen Kyungsoo stare at him so intensely before. It’s one those looks that suddenly makes him realize how sweaty his palms are, how fast his heart is beating, and how his skin tingles in every place that they touch. It’s a little heady to absorb it all, but it makes him press forward despite the way it makes his stomach flutter nervously.
This is the look that Jongin used to dream about before finally working up the awkward courage to kiss him that night at the movies, and it’s terrifying because it’s not just a recurring dream. It’s reality.
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo breathes and looks up expectantly. His hands are pinned at his sides, Jongin’s warm fingers circled around his holding them in place. Even Jongin’s thighs have him glued to the wall and it makes him feel tiny, but not intimidated because this is Jongin, the silly little boy that he grew up with that is currently overthinking this situation far too much. He can practically see the younger boy’s brain swirling around in his head and it makes him smile a little.
“Stop thinking,” Kyungsoo fusses and forcefully detaches a hand from his grip so he can reach up and twine his fingers through Jongin’s hair.
“Okay,” Jongin whispers after barely a heartbeat and then tilts his head so he can kiss him.
Their lips fit together relatively smoothly and Jongin notes that he still tastes like pasta, except sweeter because he probably stole a few licks of frosting. Chocolate frosting and salty pasta sauce is not the best flavor combination but Jongin doesn’t care, too distracted by Kyungsoo’s teeth nibbling on his lower lip and his tongue swiping across the chewed flesh. It’s maddeningly distracting to the point where he doesn’t even hear the sounds from the living room anymore.
He slips his newly freed fingers up underneath the fabric of Kyungsoo shirt and presses his palm into the soft flesh of his stomach. If this were any other time he’d make a little joke about Kyungsoo having a tiny little food baby after eating so much pasta. But this isn’t any other time. Other times wouldn’t involve Kyungsoo letting out a little gurgle of approval and leaning into Jongin’s touch. This isn’t even like the other times that they’ve kissed since their first one and Jongin suspects it has a lot to do with the terrifying look Kyungsoo had in his eyes a few moments ago.
Kyungsoo curls his fingers tighter into Jongin’s hair when he pulls away from his lips and starts pressing kisses into his neck. Sure, Jongin has kissed people before, but he’s never wanted to kiss someone like this so badly. He’s never wanted to suck bruises onto the soft flesh of someone’s neck and run his nose teasingly across their jaw before kissing them on the lips again. There’s so much he wants to do at one time that he almost can’t make up his mind and it makes him overeager and probably a little too rough, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. He just smiles against Jongin’s lips and sighs into another kiss.
“O-oh my...”
Jongin jumps away from Kyungsoo like a frightened kitten and does his best not to stare guiltily at the person standing at the opposite end of the hallway because it is most definitely his mother. His mother just caught him very heatedly making out with his boyfriend in the middle of the hallway of their own home. Jongin wants to die. Jongin wants to reclaim the mop and whack his mother over the head with it to jog her memory.
“Oh hey Mrs. Kim.” Kyungsoo smiles, arm latched around Jongin’s waist to stop him from skittering away. Kyungsoo is a sadist.
“I just came to get the mop,” she says, eyeing Jongin suspiciously. Why isn’t she giving Kyungsoo the same look? He was kissing too. Oh my God. “Your father spilled champagne on the floor.”
Jongin nods meekly as Kyungsoo pulls him away from the closet. Oh good, they’re drunk. Maybe they won’t remember this. Except that his mother clearly hasn’t had enough to not be sober enough to mop up the alcohol. He can feel her eyes following them as they walk towards his bedroom. This is horribly incriminating.
“You look like a tomato,” Kyungsoo giggles when they’re secured in Jongin’s bedroom, the latter of which has now cocooned himself in his blankets so he can live out his misery in unobserved safety.
“C’mon, don’t be embarrassed Jongin,” Kyungsoo says and gives what he thinks is Jongin’s shoulder a shove. “It’s just kissing. I’m sure you’ve seen other people in your family kiss before. Remember that one time we caught your sister-”
“Stop!” Jongin suddenly yells and pokes his head out from under the blankets. “I don’t want to remember that. I’m still scarred.” He shivers and scrunches his face.
“Then don’t be such a baby.” Kyungsoo lies down next to Jongin and props himself up on his elbows so his chin is resting in the palm of his hands. “It’s just kissing.”
Jongin pokes his tongue out at Kyungsoo and gives him a look of pure disdain before popping it back under the covers. No, this is mortifying. He doesn’t even know how he ever found the courage to kiss Kyungsoo at that movie theater or the desire to do so at the zoo. Still, neither of those moments seem as embarrassing as this. I mean, this is his family. They're supposed to think of him as innocent and pure for eternity even if he isn’t.
“Really though, Jongin,” Kyungsoo sighs and flops on his side so he’s facing the blob of blankets where Jongin is hiding. “It could have been worse.” Tentatively, he tugs at the blankets covering Jongin’s head. “Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about us, about people seeing us or knowing that we’re together, ever. I want you to feel comfortable about us, even though admittedly it’s a bit weird when your parents catch you doing intimate things with someone. You didn’t care at the zoo.”
“The zoo wasn’t filled with my entire family,” he groans. “But yeah. I’m sorry. I do feel comfortable about us and our relationship, I just... I wasn’t expecting that. I think the root of my mortification comes more from the shock of the moment. But no, I don’t feel embarrassed about us.”
“Good.” Kyungsoo smiles and reaches over to fiddle with Jongin’s messy hair. It’s gone all staticy from rubbing against the banket. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re pretty good at kissing despite your inexperience with relationships.”
Jongin smirks. “Well, I learned from the best.”
“Hmm, good point.” Kyungsoo eyes him for a moment. “Amber was good at kissing.”
Thwack!
“What? Hey don’t hit me with a pillow!” Kyungsoo gasps and recoils from Jongin who’s leapt out of his blankets with the ferocity of a hunting panther. So much for skittish little kitten...
“Kyungsoo?!”
“What, that was an accident freshman year? Way before you ever sort of not really dated. I thought you knew.” Kyungsoo furrows his brow and frowns. Jongin knows practically everything about him, so how could he not know this.
“Ooohhh,” Jongin says, dragging out the sound as his brain struggles to piece together the memory. “That’s who that girl was at that party? The one you told me you kissed but didn’t know the name of? No wonder she kept giving you the evil eye when we were dating,” he snorts.
“Yeah. My mistake. She was kinda the final proof of my gayness. She was good at kissing, but man she just wasn’t, well, a man,” he sighs.
“Yeah, same here,” he laughs.
Jongin laughs because yeah, she was basically his turning point as well. For the majority of high school he’d wondered a lot of things about himself. Why he’d rather stare at pictures of shirtless men in magazines than women in bikinis and super short skirts. That awkward time in P.E. when he’d gotten hard from tackling some boy named Joonmyun while playing football. He just kept ignoring it though, even after Kyungsoo confessed to him that he was gay which sent Jongin’s mind spiraling in a million different directions. Kyungsoo could come to terms with himself, but Jongin was pretty much in denial until Amber broke up with him. She’s even the one who’d first asked him if he was gay. He tries not to remember the look on her face when he nodded yes.
“I’m curious though. I’ve told you almost everything about what I’ve done or haven’t done or wanted to do, but you don’t tell me much. You wouldn’t even tell me about the first time you kissed someone,” Kyungsoo says, snapping Jongin out of his thoughts.
“So?” Jongin narrows his eyes and looks at Kyungsoo questioningly.
“Have you ever...?” Kyungsoo trails off suggestively, fingers still twisting in Jongin’s hair.
“Have I ever what?” he asks, and then it dawns on him. “Oh… um no… when would I? I mean, I’ve only ever had one official girlfriend and that was a fail.”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know what you do in college. You’re in a fraternity after all.”
As if that’s supposed to mean something. Jongin rolls his eyes. “You don’t know? Oh come on, you know exactly what I do in college. I’ve told you probably everything I’ve ever done, which isn’t much I’ll have you know.”
“Sure… You just, you know, go to parties and sit there lamely and never associate with other human beings. Don’t tell me you just go to parties and act the same way you did in high school for the few that you went to?” Kyungsoo says incredulously.
“Except I drink now because there’s better alcohol. But, anyways, I’m an observer, not a doer.”
Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow. “Well, that’s kinky.”
“Ugh no, that’s not what I meant, oh my God… You’re just getting this all wrong. I mean you can go to parties and not do those things.” Jongin flushes.
Kyungsoo muffles his laughter by burying his head into the pillow he got slapped with.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Jongin frowns.
“Maybe,” he says cheekily, words slightly muffled by the pillow.
“I’m unfriending you,” Jongin huffs.
“Does this mean we’re breaking up?” Kyungsoo says with faux-anger. He yanks the blankets off of Jongin’s body. He tries to grapple for purchase on the blanket but can’t manage to hold it tight enough and ends up with his back pressed against the mattress with Kyungsoo straddling his hips.
“No, I said I’m unfriending you, not unboyfriending you,” he clarifies, staring up at Kyungsoo’s teasing eyes.
“I don’t see much of a difference with that, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Well there is,” he huffs and crosses his arms petulantly.
“Sure.” Kyungsoo smiles and leans down to press a chaste kiss to Jongin’s lips. “I’m sure there’s a huge difference.”
“Massive,” Jongin says and catches Kyungsoo before he sits up, wanting to kiss him again. After being so rudely disrupted earlier he isn’t sure that such a light kiss is satisfying enough for the moment.
Kyungsoo topples on top of him a little ungracefully at first before he manages to steady himself by propping up on his forearms on either side of Jongin’s head. The position strains his muscles, but he’d rather not just completely collapse on Jongin and knock all his breath out of him. It’s hard to kiss someone if you strangle them. This kiss isn’t quite as heated as before, but he’d like it to be.
“Jongin?” Kyungsoo murmurs and pulls away. He rests his forehead on Jongin’s, eyes watching him probingly, searching for answers to a question that he hasn’t even asked yet.
“Hmm?”
“Would you mind if I do something?”
“Something?” Jongin says curiously. “What something?” For once, Kyungsoo is the one that looks nervous and he doesn’t like it. He’s too used to it being the other way around.
Kyungsoo sucks in a breath and bites his lip. “There’s really no elegant way to say this, but can I...” Maybe it’s too soon to ask, he thinks briefly but then remembers that it’s not really, not if you consider how long the two of them have been together even when they weren’t dating. “Can I suck you off?”
“What?” Jongin flares and rushes to sit up, ungracefully smashing their foreheads together.
Kyungsoo winces at the pain and Jongin’s reaction.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jongin apologizes and latches onto Kyungsoo’s face as if that’s somehow supposed to ease the pain. “I just--what did you say?”
Kyungsoo gives Jongin a pointed look but complies. “I want to suck your cock,” he says bitingly. Preferably without a headache.
Jongin stiffens underneath him. It’s a very enticing proposition at the moment, considering that his whole body has been more than slightly buzzing since Kyungsoo straddled his hips and started kissing him again. On the other hand he wasn’t expecting that at all and he’s panicking because his family is home and he doesn't think he can stand another accidental interruption.
“Kyungsoo you wouldn’t even let me kiss you at the zoo and you want to do this while my family is home,” Jongin whines. There is clearly something unjust about this situation.
“First of all, that kiss would have been in front of everyone. Poor innocent children, Jongin. And second of all, your family is in the living room blasting Frank Sinatra and dancing their way through the New Year. If you’re quiet they won’t even know”
Jongin blinks at him a few times and flushes pink. There is logic to his statements, he concedes, but he can’t get the mortifying image of his siblings or his parents interrupting them in the middle of things, especially after what happened earlier. Who’s to say his mother won’t barge in at any moment and pull them into the living room to join in the dancing. Or, even worse, what if his mother already suspects that they’re up to something because she caught them making out.
“Relax, Jongin. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.” Kyungsoo grins, though Jongin can tell it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Jongin snakes his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist and tugs him closer so he can bury his face in his shoulder.
“I do want...” he says after a few moments. In fact, he wants it a lot. If Kyungsoo’s lips already feel so nice just kissing him, he can’t imagine how nice they would feel wrapped around his dick. Just the thought of it already starts to make him hard. “Just, for God’s sake, please lock the door. I don’t think I can handle another run in with my mother.”
Kyungsoo pulls Jongin’s head away from his shoulder, laughing. “Okay,” he agrees, kissing Jongin one more time before climbing off of his lap and locking the bedroom door.
Jongin is already mourning the loss of the feeling of Kyungsoo pressed against him, but within in moments he hears the click of the lock and Kyungsoo is climbing back onto his lap. At least the sound of music and the T.V. is muted by his bedroom walls or he wouldn’t be able to handle this at all.
“Just relax,” Kyungsoo says, kissing him again. “You won’t enjoy it if you’re too uptight.”
He allows Kyungsoo to push him back down onto the bed in almost the same position as before, only Kyungsoo seems more comfortable leaning over him and pressing their lips together. He doesn’t strain to hold himself up so much on his elbows. Instead he lets his weight push the two of them closer together, more adamant about touching every part of Jongin he can at one time.
This is the part that Jongin is still relatively familiar with, kissing and touching already exposed skin. Losing himself in the taste of Kyungsoo’s mouth and the feel of wet lips and tongue across his neck and collarbone. Somehow it’s still different though, just like kissing him in the hallway had been. He bet if he caught Kyungsoo’s eye he’d have that same terrifying look in his eyes and it makes him swallow hard. Kyungsoo responds to this by sucking harder on his neck and grinding their hips together. Jongin whimpers, already getting a little too hard in his pants for comfort.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Kyungsoo groans and pulls away from Jongin’s neck.
“Oh...” Jongin says dumbly, wanting to ask exactly how long he’s been wanting to do this? As long as he has dreamt of moments like this occurring, or even longer? He stops himself from asking though when he sees that look in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Not nearly as terrifying as before, but still a little too intense for him to handle. He wonders if he has the same look in his own eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.” He gulps.
“Like what?” Kyungsoo blinks and sits up.
“Like you already love me...” he stammers.
Kyungsoo gazes at him for a moment. He slides his palms across Jongin’s chest, pushing his shirt up in the process. He watches the expanses of golden skin as he pushes at the fabric. Skin that he’s been itching to touch for longer than just a normal friend should. Days and nights of dreaming of kissing down smooth skin and soaking in every little sound of pleasure.
“Maybe I do? Maybe I have for a long time,” he concludes, refusing to meet Jongin’s eye. Instead he watches his fingers glide across the tips of Jongin’s exposed hip bones. “I-I’m sorry, I’m making this awkward. I shouldn’t be saying this right now.”
Jongin struggles to sit up and grab Kyungsoo’s chin so he can force the older man to look him in the eye. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t take it back. You told me not to be embarrassed, so don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Please.”
“But you just told me-”
“No buts,” Jongin warns and kisses Kyungsoo’s cheek. “I just wasn’t expecting this to be so intense already? I mean, I’ve liked you for years, if I think about it, even if I wouldn’t even admit that I like men. But I just, I wasn’t expecting to learn that you’ve wanted this for so long, that you maybe already look at me like you love me because you’ve loved me for a long time. I wasn’t even sure you’d want me in this way when I kissed you for the first time.”
“Oh god, you’re stupid,” Kyungsoo laughs shakily. “Didn’t think I’d want you. Ridiculous,” he murmurs and starts peppering kisses across Jongin’s jaw. “I’ve liked you for fucking ever. I just didn’t think you’d like me. You never seemed interesting in anything really, even when you were with Amber, and I didn’t want to push things because you’re such a sheltered dweeb. I thought I’d frighten you away.”
Frighten him away? Impossible. “So we’re both stupid then?” Jongin snorts.
“Yes. Incredibly so,” he agrees. “Because I think I already love you. And you don’t have to say it back yet, but I know you will, because you probably already do too,” he says smugly and pushes Jongin back down onto the bed. “And that’s why you’re going to let me do this. Because you’ve wanted it for forever too.”
Jongin can’t stop himself from smiling too widely when Kyungsoo resumes the task of kissing his neck. Confident Kyungsoo is back and it makes him giddy. Though he’s not quite used to him being reduced to a nervous mushball, he can’t say he didn’t like it. If anything, it’s what helps him relax even further when Kyungsoo unzips his jeans, tugging them down and then rubbing teasingly at his erection through his boxer briefs. It’s nice knowing that Kyungsoo is just as nervous and bubbly about this at times like he is.
It’s what stops him from recoiling in embarrassment when both his jeans and his boxer briefs are completely kicked to the floor and Kyungsoo’s fingers are gliding over the flesh of his thighs, lips just centimeters away from where he’d like them to be. Kyungsoo looks up at him again, one hand already massaging the base, just to make sure one last time that Jongin is okay with this. Though really, at this point, how could he not be okay with this? Already so worked up and needing some way to come down.
Jongin nods his head. “Please,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to have to beg, and he knows that Kyungsoo is just being extra cautious with him. Scared little kitten Jongin. Except right now he’s really horny and would rather not run away from this.
Kyungsoo smiles, thumb running over the slit before he replaces his fingers with his mouth.
Jongin doesn’t quite know what he was expecting from this, other than knowing that it was going to feel good, so he’s a little unprepared for it to feel as good as it actually does and he barely manages to muffle his moan with his hand. The last thing he wants is to be louder than Frank Sinatra and the whole of New York City.
“Fuck.” He curls his fingers into the blanket when manages to quiet himself, trying to stop himself from thrusting up into his boyfriend’s mouth. Something tells him Kyungsoo wouldn’t be very happy with that. Kyungsoo hums appreciatively but presses Jongin’s hip down onto the bed with his free hand just as a precaution. A good idea, Jongin thinks, because certainly the humming around his cock is not helping his self control.
He tries to restrict himself to embarrassing whines and heavy breathing in attempt to not be heard throughout the house, but when Kyungsoo stops teasing, takes as much of his length in as possible, and sucks hard he can’t stop himself. His cheeks blush an incredibly deep shade of pink in embarrassment and he can feel Kyungsoo laughing around him. Thank god that door is locked because he’s pretty sure that sound was not contained by his room. (Thank god for New York City and a crowded Time Square.)
Kyungsoo releases his grip from Jongin’s hip and starts drifting down his thigh. His hips jerk forward a little harsher than they should when the wandering fingers start massaging the parts of his butt that aren’t pressed into the mattress. Kyungsoo’s other hand is still toying with the base of his cock as his mouth laps at the rest of it. Tongue wet and slurping and too hot. The heat builds in Jongin’s stomach far more quickly than he’d like because this is something that he’d like to have go on forever. He knows he’s far too close to the end when his thighs start to quiver a little and his abdominal muscles start to clench.
“God... getting too close,” he gasps out.
Kyungsoo gives Jongin’s cock one more good suck before pulling off completely and replacing his mouth his hand. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo hums. His other free hand still massaging his thigh. “If there’s one thing you must know, aside from not putting out on the first date, I don’t swallow.”
If Jongin weren’t about to come he’d laugh, remembering what Kyungsoo had said a few days ago at the zoo. He nods his head weakly before letting it roll backwards, a moan building in his throat as he arches into Kyungsoo’s tugging fingers. Luckily, he doesn’t moan as embarrassingly loud as he did early when he comes in Kyungsoo’s hand, spray across his stomach and Kyungsoo’s pales fingers. He’s also lucky that his shirt is still pressed up to the top of his chest from before otherwise he’d have a lot of explaining to do when his mother wanted to do laundry.
“Good?” Kyungsoo asks, watching Jongin’s chest rise and fall erratically as he comes back to his senses.
“More than good,” he whispers, almost too spent to say more.
“You’re gorgeous.” Kyungsoo smiles after a few moments and lets his eyes wander over the person lying beneath him. Turned-on Jongin is beautiful, but satiated Jongin is amazing. Lazy and glowing with satisfaction.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
“Jongin, I just watched you orgasm all over yourself and my hand. I think blushing is the least of your worries.”
Way to ruin the moment, he thinks, but when he looks down at himself he blushes anyways. “Ugh, you’re right,” he grumbles, “I’m covered in my own…”
“Come?” Kyungsoo says very cheekily when the words get stuck in Jongin’s throat.
“Yes,” he snaps. It’s funny how quickly he can return to being an embarrassed little kitty and how quickly Kyungsoo can become a jerk.
“Tissues?” Kyungsoo questions.
“Desk,” Jongin replies, jerking his head in the direction where a box of tissue sits perched on his very messy desk.
Kyungsoo removes himself from Jongin’s lap and walks towards the desk. He doesn’t mean for his eyes to follow the line of Kyungsoo’s very obvious erection when he stands up, but he can’t help it. He shivers happily knowing that he’s the reason it happened.
“What?” the elder questions when he returns to Jongin, box of tissues in hand. He’s already wiped his own fingers clean.
Jongin shakes his head and smiles as Kyungsoo attempts to clean his stomach.
“No really, what is it?” he presses when he gets up to toss the dirtied tissue into the garbage can by the desk.
Jongin stands up as well and tugs back on his boxers because he doesn’t exactly want to walk around with just a shirt on. He follows Kyungsoo over to the desk and spins him around to kiss once he’s dropped the tissues into the wastebasket. His fingers tug on the belt loops of Kyungsoo’s jeans until his erection rubs up against his thigh and the elder lets out a strangled whimper.
“That’s what,” he smiles
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo murmurs against Jongin’s lips and tangles his fingers in his hair. “You don’t have to do what I did.”
“I don’t want to do that. I don’t think I trust myself enough to do it at the moment, but I can at least do this,” he says and tugs at the zipper of Kyungsoo’s jeans so he can pull them down enough to get his hand into Kyungsoo’s boxers.
“Oh,” Kyungsoo says quietly, leaning into the touch. His head droops to Jongin’s shoulder when he starts jerking him off in earnest. Luckily he’s backed up against the desk otherwise he’d end up toppling all of his weight onto Jongin when he eventually comes.
Jongin still feels giddy about getting Kyungsoo so riled up when the elder finally leans away to grab for more tissues. Dutifully, he wipes Jongin’s fingers and himself clean. He tucks himself back into his pants and then leans up to give Jongin a brief kiss.
“Hyung,” Jongin grins mischievously, “I think I like second dates better.”
Kyungsoo snorts and gives him a scandalized look before smiling. “Me too.”
Jongin nearly jolts out of his skin when he hears screams of joy erupt from the living room. Oh right, his parents are here. His eyes travel to the clock sitting on his desk. It’s 11 p.m. here which means it’s midnight in New York. “Happy New Year,” he chirps and waves his arms around stupidly. It’s a very lame way of trying to cover up how he nearly had a panic attack because of the sudden screams.
“Yeah, in New York, you dork. Doesn’t count until you say it at midnight our time and that’s another hour away.”
“You’re incredibly literal when you feel like being an asshole,” he skulks.
Kyungsoo shrugs. “Want some cake?”
“Okay,” Jongin grins because cake definitely sounds like a good idea.
He demands that they sneak into the kitchen as silently as possible, not wanting be seen by his parents considering he probably still looks like a mess even though all the evidence has been wiped off of his skin. They almost make it back safely except his very cherubic, intoxicated father stumbles into the hallway and pulls him into an uncoordinated hug and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Kyungsoo is only spared because he’s holding the cake (which they decided to not slice and just confiscate the whole thing) and eating utensils.
“Yeah, Happy New Year, dad,” he mumbles and scrambles to detach himself from his father’s grip.
“Honey,” his dad calls from the hallway, “Come wish Jongin and Kyungsoo a happy New Year!” he slurs excitedly.
Oh hell no. “Oh no, that’s really not necessary,” Jongin says hysterically and removes himself from the hug. “She can just say it to me tomorrow.”
Once free of his impending doom, the two of them skitter down the hallway and back into his bedroom. They make a makeshift table out of old high school text books to put the cake on because Jongin’s desk is too dirty. Kyungsoo whines that Jongin should really consider cleaning his room. Jongin retorts by saying he’d rather watch Kyungsoo clean his room for him since he’s the neat freak. He nearly gets his finger stabbed with a fork and there are threats made about tossing the cake out of his bedroom window, but luckily no threats about breaking up because those are really the most stupid ones.
They spend their last hour of the year eating cake (which only tastes a little burnt) and discussing New Year resolutions that neither of them will probably stick too. But it’s the thought that counts, they both conclude, except for when Jongin says that Kyungsoo should add “not being an asshole” to his list. When the two of them are done eating far too much sugar they start attacking each other with frosting coated fingers.
Kyungsoo sniggers and draws a frosting mustache against Jongin’s upper lip saying “Oh look, you’ve finally matured.”
Jongin gives Kyungsoo a pointed look. If he’s only just matured then how the hell did he manage to get so aroused earlier, he wants to retort, but decides on a different method of retaliation. As punishment Kyungsoo ends up with a ridiculous amount of frosting coated across his cheeks. He shrieks in disdain and demands the Jongin clean it off, except that was probably a bad idea because instead of using tissues Jongin decides to slobber all over his face like a dog.
The New Year comes when the two of them are curled up quietly on Jongin’s bed, cake abandoned on the floor as they listen to the music that’s still playing in the living room. Kyungsoo’s the first one to say it this time. His voice floats out soothingly between them. He curls his fingers tightly into Jongin’s shirt to pull him closer so he can give him a New Year kiss that tastes like frosting and feels like the beginning of forever.
Jongin can only smile and hope that last part is true.
a/n: if you made it through my horrible attempt at something smutty i commend you ;~; never gonna try that again.... happy very late new year.....
you better be happy delva XD (i promise to work on your taoris next, though it will probably be a long while
before i post it since i'll be in korea for the next four months and should spend my time exploring and not
writing fics hehe)