Trade Me a Kiss
Title: Trade Me a Kiss
Pairing: Jongin/Kyungsoo
Rating: pg
Genre: romance, fluff, domestic! au
Summary: Sundays were for love.
a/n: For lizziepro, because she requested it. And because we have major KaiSoo feels. Luscious lips couple forever, please~
Sundays were for love.
Alarm clocks were turned off, responsibilities and commitments were taken care of ahead of time or put off till later. The window was left open, a brisk autumn breeze stirring mussed hair and chilling bare skin, and Kyungsoo pressed his nose into the side of Jongin's neck to warm it.
Jongin was sweetest when he was half asleep. He tightened his arm around the curve of Kyungsoo's back, drawing him closer into their cocoon of blankets and brushing uncoordinated lips against his hair.
"Awake?" Kyungsoo murmured, hand curling at Jongin's collarbone.
"No." Jongin didn't even open his eyes to answer, and Kyungsoo smiled against his skin.
He was content, like this. Cool air and warm skin, surrounded by the scents of clean sheets and Jongin and home. It had taken a long time, to get to this point, to be so comfortable with each other that they could just be. There had been months of awkwardness, of avoidance, of subtle glances and stilted conversations. Jongin had been so hot and cold, in those days, that Kyungsoo hadn't been able to get a read on him at all.
And then one day it had hit him, as they'd waited together for the last bus home and Jongin had scuffed his sneakers against the sidewalk, that the Jongin that smirked and smoldered on stage had no confidence here, in this -- and in the end he had been the one to lean over and kiss him in the dark. He remembered so vividly the way Jongin's nose had scrunched up in surprise, and his own nervous laugh -- of relief, that he'd finally done it, and of fear, that he may have miscalculated, might have misread a touch or a quiet word and set fire to everything.
But then Jongin's hand had curved around the back of his neck, and he'd fitted their lips back together with his eyes closed.
Yes, he thought, as he settled himself more comfortably into Jongin's chest. They had come a long way since then.
Then there was a soft sound, a gentle rumble that had Jongin's face crinkling, and Kyungsoo laughed. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something."
"No," came the expected response, and Jongin trapped him against his body in a tangle of arms and legs. "Stay right here."
"Silly..." But it wasn't a complaint, as Kyungsoo prodded Jongin in the ribs. He tilted his head up to find dark eyes on him, still heavy-lidded with sleep, and he knew, even if Jongin didn't say it often. "I love you," he mumbled, and Jongin met him halfway.
Sunday was for lazy kisses, the slide of lips on full lips easy and familiar. The way Jongin ducked his head and caught him with a hand curved around the back of his neck was familiar, too, and Kyungsoo felt warm to the tips of his toes.
But he hadn't forgotten that grumbling stomach, so he eased back and stopped Jongin from following him with a gentle hand. "Breakfast time. I'll make you crepes."
That put a spark in Jongin's eye, instantaneous and almost childlike delight on those well-formed features. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Strawberry banana, the way you like."
"Mmm...okay." But Jongin made no move to release him, even when he shifted and tried to roll free of their nest of sheets.
"You have to let me up if you want me to cook for you."
The corners of Jongin's lips lifted in a smirk, eyes alight with something akin to mischief. "Trade me a kiss."
If that was the toll, Kyungsoo was more than willing to pay it. Not that this was a new bargain by any means. When Jongin found a joke or a turn of phrase he liked, he used it often -- and this was one of those. Kyungsoo didn't mind. He kissed that smirk away and earned a contented sigh along with his freedom.
He wiggled his toes against the chilly floorboards and pulled on his most comfortable pajama pants, blue with lighter blue rabbits, and tugged a clean undershirt over his head. It was bright by now, clear autumn light streaming in through the open window, but he did not look at the clock. Time didn't matter on Sundays.
Jongin was still in bed, though he'd rolled onto his stomach to watch him, dark skin and dark eyes in a sea of white blankets. Not so different from their first morning together, like this, though there were less uncertainties in the curve of his lips now, no tension in those shoulders. His hair was thoroughly mussed, kicking up in all directions, and he was beautiful. "I'll come get you when breakfast is ready," Kyungsoo promised, and Jongin smiled.
Sundays were indulgent days. Sometimes they would eat out, go to their favorite noodle shop or somewhere new, but more often Kyungsoo cooked for them both. It was satisfying, to make something exactly the way he knew Jongin liked it and watch his face light up with glee. Satisfying, too, to eat at home, where he was perfectly free to lean into Jongin's shoulder and feed him from his own plate. Jongin hated to be babied, unless it was with food. Then he was completely willing to make exceptions, a fact that Kyungsoo had no problem taking full advantage of.
This particular recipe was familiar, a favorite, and Kyungsoo spread the batter evenly in the pan with practiced ease. Jongin had tried to help him, once, and Kyungsoo smiled at the memory of the growing mountain of failed crepes, either too thick or torn to shreds. They'd run out of eggs trying, and Jongin had ended up treating him to breakfast out instead.
He heard the shuffle of footsteps and didn't startle as hands settled on his hips, leaning back against Jongin's chest as he transferred another golden crepe to the finished pile. "They're not done quite yet. Five more minutes? You can wait at the table, and I'll bring them over when they're finished." Jongin nosed against his cheek, and he passed him his coffee with milk, no sugar, and got a soft kiss in return.
"You're the best." He hummed in response, waving Jongin away so he could finish cooking and chuckling when an extra kiss was pressed to the corner of his jaw.
The crepes stacked up until all of the batter was gone. Kyungsoo glanced up in the middle of filling them, and he arched an eyebrow when he saw that Jongin had only put on pants so far today. He shouldn't be surprised anymore, but it was chilly even in the apartment, and he shivered just looking at all that bare skin. "Aren't you cold?"
Jongin blinked at him and took another slow sip of his coffee, as if he were considering it. "No, not really."
Not that Jongin was likely to admit it, even if he was freezing. Even in the dead of winter, it was all Kyungsoo could do to get him to put on a coat before leaving the apartment. Scarves were out of the question, too confining, and even the coat was likely to come off the second they stepped inside. He'd thought Jongin was trying too hard, when they'd first met, stripping himself down to the bare minimum to be sexy -- but he knew better now, that Jongin felt stifled in too many layers and was the most at home in his own skin and nothing else. So he didn't push it, anymore. That Jongin was even in pants was rare enough in itself.
The finished crepes were set down on the table, and he settled down at Jongin's side instead of across from him. His own personal preference, there. Crepes were transferred to their plates, and he ate with his head against Jongin's shoulder. They didn't cling together like this too often, but if they did, it was probably Sunday. Weekdays were too busy, and Saturdays had their own set of priorities, usually consisting of errands and housework. Sundays, though -- Sundays were for them.
There would be no leftovers, as long as Jongin was home. Their plates were practically licked clean, and Kyungsoo laughed as Jongin threw his head back in a sigh of complete and utter satisfaction. "Good?"
"Very." Jongin looked over at him, then, with a little smile on his face, and the feeling of home sank into Kyungsoo's very bones. He nestled more comfortably into Jongin's shoulder, the familiar weight of an arm around his waist, and breathed a deep breath of autumn apartment air. Dishes would have to be done, because that was the one thing he refused to put off, even on days like these -- but then maybe they would curl together on the couch and watch an old movie, or go for a walk sometime before the stars came out, clasped hands swinging between them. The what didn't matter, on Sundays, as long as it was the two of them.
Jongin tweaked his nose and his eyes flew wide, and Jongin shook with laughter. "Were you falling asleep?"
"No," he protested, because he hadn't been, he'd just been resting for a moment -- but it was impossible to be anything more than frazzled when Jongin was smiling so brightly and dusting indulgent kisses across his cheekbones.
"Just teasing, baby," he murmured, and Kyungsoo's face felt as if it were on fire as Jongin cuddled him back against his chest. It absolutely wasn't fair, for Jongin to still be able to have this affect on him, so many months in. It really, absolutely wasn't -- and yet Kyungsoo couldn't bring himself to mind, even when Jongin tipped back and dragged him down with him to the floor, trapped in a tight embrace.
"I love Sundays," Jongin grinned, and Kyungsoo found it easy, now, to read between the lines.
"I love you."