Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Kyungsoo intends to win.

That’s a broad statement, but to be quite honest, he means it broadly. He intends to win at whatever it is he does. Innocent, friendly competitions at work? He wins them handily. Weekend flag football league? They’re reigning champions. Pub quizzes? The team wouldn’t dream of being without him. He’s a repository for trivia. He’s got Sporcle bookmarked, after all.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun always tell him life isn’t a competition, but Kyungsoo thinks that’s because he always kicks their asses at Mario Kart when they dare challenge him. Idiots. Of course life’s a competition. The people who say it isn’t are losing.  

He's already exhausted.

“Soo, I need more bird seed,” Leon says, adding on “please!” like an afterthought.

“Well, Leon,” Kyungsoo says, “that’s because most of your share has ended up on my floor.”

Leon looks down at their feet as if to confirm, and then he giggles loudly, slapping a hand on Hwan’s shoulder next to him. Hwan is busy diligently filling the cookie cutter with the bird seed mixture, pressing the seed into the corners of the star-shape with gentle fingers. Kyungsoo smiles.

The boys are gathered around his kitchen table, finishing up their designated craft for the evening. It’s one of the ones Kyungsoo has pinned to his “Joey Meetings” Pinterest board. They talked about birds, learned about some different kinds, how to identify them, and what types of food are appropriate for them. There’s music playing in the background, a KidzBop CD that one of the moms had handed him and instructed him to play after telling him that she read that music helps kids focus (Kyungsoo knows that it doesn’t, but he abides by her wishes regardless.) The CD grates on his nerves, but the kids are always talking anyway, the room loud with laughter. Kyungsoo prefers quiet, but here, he’ll make an exception.

Normally, when people find out that Kyungsoo is a Joey scout leader, their eyes go wide. Is it really so surprising?, he thinks to himself. Do I really seem that averse to the idea?   Kids are great. He loves them, especially his troop. They’re so inquisitive, so excited to learn and try new things. He loves answering their questions and loves teaching them stuff. It’s the one thing he does in his spare time that keeps him calm. Grounded. Well, mostly calm. Mostly grounded.

“Remember,” Kyungsoo says, passing out their Nature Journals and their snack for the evening, “next month is the jamboree at Laughing Waters. Make sure you tell your parents that permission slips need to be handed in by next week at the very latest. That is, if they haven’t turned them in already.”

They nod. Kyungsoo smiles, heads back to the kitchen to bring the tray of lemonade out. When he comes back into the living room, eight little hands are busy scribbling in the notebooks, hopefully writing down some semi-legible thoughts about their lesson and the activity. He passes out the cups one by one.

“Thank you, Soo,” David says, grabbing the cup carefully with two hands.

“You’re welcome, David,” Kyungsoo says.

“Thank you, Soo,” Elijah says, smiling so big his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“You’re welcome, Elijah,” Kyungsoo says.

“Tha--,” Avin starts, but Kyungsoo quickly cuts him off.

“You’re welcome ,” he says, a big grin on his face, “You’re all incredibly, incredibly welcome. Just take the dang juice.”

The boys laugh in unison, and Kyungsoo does too, because everything is funny to them and that’s funny to him. He goes back to the edge of the room, sits down cross-legged like the rest of them, and takes a cup of lemonade for himself.

“Do we have our normal spot at Laughing Waters?” David asks, eyes still glued to his journal where he’s writing.

They’re well known at the jamboree, what with Kyungsoo coaching his Joey troop 407 to victory. They ended up winning the big trophy at the end of the weekend, the coveted “Best Teamwork” prize. He normally doesn’t take things with the Joeys so seriously, but…

“Yeah, still at campsite A,” he confirms.

“Troop 430's gonna be there, right?” Finn asks, mouth full of cookie.

Kyungsoo tries not to bristle.

“I dunno, bud,” he says, gritting his teeth and smiling weakly. “Probably.”

“Cool,” Finn says, finally swallowing. “I thought they were cool.”

The rest of the group agrees, and the journals are forgotten as the conversation devolves into stories from the last jamboree and talking about the friends they made. He lowers his head. He fruitlessly hopes 430 won’t be there. He can barely fight back the venom in his throat at the thought of last jamboree. God. What a nightmare.

❌⭕️

He packs the van up with camping gear, supplies, and his baby kangaroos, and by sunrise, they’re on their way.

The boys sing songs that he avoids joining in on, but doesn’t necessarily try very hard to put an end to. Laughing Waters isn’t too far from them, just a two hour drive. It’s all highway. Smooth sailing.

Still, there’s a pit in his stomach. Foreboding. He hadn’t even thought about it before the boys brought it up, having buried all memories firmly in the ground and moved past them for good, but now and for the past three weeks, all he’s done is think about it.

Shaking his head quickly, he refocuses on the road. It’s not the time or place. He’s taking care of kids here, for Christ’s sake. He’s not gonna get wrapped up in some stupid fight. Not even a little.

❌⭕️

As soon as the tires hit the stone gravel of the parking structure, Kyungsoo sees him. Quickly, Kyungsoo parks and then ducks stupidly behind the wheel, hoping that no one can see him through the glass. He scoots out, throws open the doors for the kids, and watches as they pile out of the van chaotically, backpacks in hand.

“Come on,” he says, bringing them around to the back to start unloading, trying not to look around nervously, “get moving.”

“Troop 430 is over there, though,” Elijah says, a whine in his voice.

“Let’s go say hi!” Finn says, dragging Avin by the shirt sleeve.

“Not yet, you’re not,” Kyungsoo says, grabbing them both by the collars quickly. “Unpack, set up camp, then you can socialize.”

Elijah sighs mightily, but Leon and Hwan are already walking to campsite A, poles in hand. Leon walks a bit more quickly than Hwan and is already making bird calls at the top of his lungs. Hwan wears a quiet smile.

Kyungsoo busies the rest of the boys, loads their arms up with bags and sends them over. He watches as they march in a line like ducklings, set the supplies down, and start setting up the tent, almost mechanically. They still laugh, though, and they occasionally whip around the extra poles like lightsabers. His heart warms at the sight.

“Still got ‘em trained pretty good there,” a deep voice says, too close to his ear and sending a shiver down his spine.  

Kyungsoo jerks around and winds his hand back instinctively because fuck this guy, fuck him so hard. If punching him in the face is what’s necessary, then punching him in the face is what Kyungsoo will do. He’ll catch a charge. He doesn’t care at this point.

A strong hand wraps around his wrist lightning quick, spoiling his excellent plan of knocking his teeth in. Kyungsoo struggles to get away.

“Let go of me,” Kyungsoo says.

“Didn’t you run the self-defense course?” he says with a toothy smile. “Shouldn’t you be breaking the wrist and walking away by now? ”

“Shut the fuck up , Kim,” Kyungsoo whispers.

“Aw, come on. I think we’re on a first name basis by now,” he says. “You can call me Jongin.”

“I prefer calling you asshole, ” Kyungsoo says, trying to keep his voice down so none of the other troops and their leaders hear.

“I missed you too, baby,” Kim laughs, and fuck, Kyungsoo feels like throwing up all over the idiot’s shoes.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got someplace to be.”

Kyungsoo shakes his wrist again, hard and deliberate, but he meets no resistance as Jongin lets him go easily.

“I’ll let you get to it, then,” Kim says, eyes bright and awful. There’s like, delight there and it makes Kyungsoo want to kick him in the shins. 

“Great,” Kyungsoo says, turning to stomp off in the other direction.

“See you around, Soo,” Kim says.

Kyungsoo turns back around yet again to angrily whisper “Don’t call me that.”  

“Okay, babe,” Jongin smiles.

Kyungsoo scoffs before flipping him off and then walking over to campsite A, the giant pit in his stomach somehow multiplied tenfold.

❌⭕️ 

By afternoon, campsite A is working like a well-oiled machine. They’ve got their fire pit all lit up, their food is tied up in the tree with the parachute cord Kyungsoo got from the army surplus a few years back, and their tents are pristine. Kyungsoo looks across the rest of the sites, sees certain troops still busy gathering tinder or still hoisting up their tents. Then, Kyungsoo’s eyes graze over campsite D. Troop 430.

Nothing is done. The bags are still strewn all over the ground, the fire pit ignored. All of the kids are gathered around Kim, and they’re listening with rapt attention as he talks about whatever it is he’s got in his hands.

“Can we go see what they’ve got?” Leon asks. “Please, please, please, please, please, pl-”

“If you say please one more time,” Kyungsoo says, an empty threat he learned from the Moms. It works, so Kyungsoo doesn’t mind.

“Please,” Leon smiles.

It usually works.

Kyungsoo sighs.

“Raise your hand if you wanna go over and see what they have,” Kyungsoo asks.

Eight hands raise in the air, some more shyly than others.

“Okay, the deal is that if you go over, you have to help them out,” Kyungsoo says. “Help them set up camp. Help with their fire and everything. Okay?”

“Okay!” they ring out in unison.

“Alright,” Kyungsoo says, “get lost.”

The kids run across Laughing Waters, and Kyungsoo tries to keep himself distracted, tying knots in a piece of rope so he doesn’t look over at campsite D. He’s planning on doing a little lesson later in the evening before the big opening ceremony and the s’mores at the bonfire, which happens to be his Joeys favorite part. 

Deftly, he runs through the six Joey scout knots with lightning speed: the square knot, the bowline, the sheet bend, the clove hitch, two half hitches, and the tautline hitch. He hates the tautline hitch, doesn’t think it’s all that effective. Kyungsoo prefers the trucker knot, but the guidebook says to  teach the tautline hitch, so that’s what he teaches. He unravels it with practiced fingers, and fuck it, looks to campsite D.

Kim is staring straight at him, hands still cupped in front of him where the kids are gathered in a tight circle. He smiles, and fuck. Something about it sets Kyungsoo on fire. He wants to hit that smirk off Kim’s face. Then, Kim carefully raises one hand, and gestures for him to come over. Fuck him. What could possibly be more important than setting up camp effectively?

Kyungsoo throws the rope to the ground and stalks over.

“Nice of you to join us,” Kim says, eyebrows raised happily. “Wanna see Buddy?”

He offers his hands to Kyungsoo over the din of the boys, and it’s…

“A Mountain chorus frog?” Kyungsoo says.

“His name is Buddy,” Eric corrects. “We all voted.”

“Where did you find him?” Kyungsoo asks.

One of the 430 Joeys pipes up, saying “he jumped onto my bag!”

“Little impromptu lesson to work towards our reptile and amphibian badge,” Kim says to Kyungsoo before turning towards the 407 Joeys. “But I guess you boys have already got that one, huh?”

“Duh,” Joaquin says. “We got that badge a year ago.”

“Be polite,” Kyungsoo says, but Joaquin is right. If Kim just focused and kept his Joeys focused, they might be able to get more badges.

“No worries,” Kim says, breezy as always. Like water off a duck’s back. Kyungsoo hates it. “Okay, time for Buddy to go back home.”

“Aww,” the boys echo but Kim puts him down at the edge of the forest line anyway, kneeling down and putting him on a moss covered rock softly.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, turning his back on Kim quickly, “boys, help get the campsite ready.”

His Joeys spring into action, David quickly asking a thousand questions about where their tent poles were, whether or not they’d gathered leaves and small twigs for kindling, what they were planning on using to hoist their food high up in the air.

“Aww, Soo,” Kim says, “you don’t have to help.”

Kim walks over, slings an easy arm around Kyungsoo. His body radiates a familiar heat, and Kyungsoo wriggles away from it.

“I’m not helping,” he says. “The boys wanna make sure you and your troop don’t die from exposure. For whatever reason.”

“You told them to,” Kim says, needling. “You made them.”

“Only because you’re so ineffective at your job,” Kyungsoo bites meanly. “It’s nearly two, what were you thinking?”

“Well,” Kim says, still smiling, “I thought we stumbled across a frog, and I thought it might be interesting to see and hear one up close instead of just on the internet.”

Kyungsoo hesitates because he’s right. It was cool. The boys did like it.

“Also,” Kim continues, “ I realize this is just an activity for kids, something for them to pass the time and have some fun and maybe learn a little, and that not everything is a competition.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say to that, but he’s got a thousand ideas, five hundred starting with an expletive.

“Well, good luck,” Kyungsoo says bitterly. “Since not everything is a competition, I’m sure you’ll do exactly as good as you did last year. Everyone will be very proud of your silver medal.”

“Kyungsoo, I was kidding,” Kim says, laughing.

Kyungsoo watches his throat move and regrets looking.

“You know,” Kyungsoo continues, unable to hold his tongue, “if you actually tried, if you actually put your mind to this, you’d be really good at it. The kids like you even though you’re an ugly idiot and you don’t know anything. They think you’re cool. They don’t know any better, but…you could actually be good at it. If you tried.”

Kim stares at him, eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips.

Kyungsoo can’t stop, everything busting loose.

“You act like nothing matters,” Kyungsoo says. “You act like this is all just a big joke. You can’t take anything seriously.”

Kim just looks at him, big dark eyes boring into Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo feels mildly uncomfortable with the energy, charged in all the wrong ways. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, never breaking eye contact with Kim, who looks at him like he can see into his bloodstream or something. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and Jesus Christ, that’s never good.

“You still want me,” Kim says, and shit, it hits Kyungsoo like a punch to the gut.

“Oh, for f—just shut up,” Kyungsoo says, unable to think of anything even remotely clever.

“I still want you too,” he says. "Just for reference."

Kim then goes over to help some of the Joeys with the tent. He flashes a smile back at Kyungsoo, and if Kyungsoo wasn’t such a fucking moron, he’d feel properly disgusted and then go fuckin’ knock the guy out.

They’d been around each other all day, all weekend really. Kyungsoo could feel it boiling inside him. Kim was determined to make his life a living hell, Kyungsoo was sure of it. Every time he turned around, the 430s had evened them in the point standings. As the brackets converged, it becomes increasingly clear to Kyungsoo that it would be them against the 407s in the final for every single event.

It was always something. Kim needled at him. Teased him. Touched him, even when Kyungsoo slapped his hands away and then punched him when no one was watching. Kim would hunch over and laugh, rubbing at the spot that Kyungsoo struck with his full force. Kyungsoo hated him. Kyungsoo hated him so much.

He couldn’t lose to him. He just couldn’t.

He watched as Kim’s troop finished up their last heat in volleyball, Kim standing off to the side. He cheered wildly for every little thing, jumping up and down and waving his arms like a lunatic. Kyungsoo looked elsewhere. Fuck. He couldn’t let him win.

Kyungsoo looked back at Kim. He was broad across the shoulders. Kyungsoo shook his head. He had no reason to be thinking that, so he let the thought go immediately. Kim’s eyes locked with his at that moment, like he could hear Kyungsoo’s thoughts. Of course, Kyungsoo thought. Just one more annoying fuckin’ thing about that asshole.

Kim winked, paired it with a wild smile. It was too controlled, Kyungsoo thought. Too perfect. He must practice that a lot.

After the match, Kim walked over to him as his Joeys ran off to play with Kyungsoo’s. Sweat gleamed on his skin as the sun shone high in the sky. He smelled like the forest. He needed a shower, Kyungsoo thought. Kim took the bottom of his shirt and raised it to his forehead, wiping at the sheen there. Kyungsoo’s eyes felt magnetized to the skin of Kim’s stomach, taut and tan and muscled.

“Excited for the finals?” Kim asked, finally lowering his shirt.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, tipping his chin up. “Excited to win.”

Kim laughed deep and full in his chest, infuriating and loud.

“It’s just a game, Soo,” Kim said. “No need to take it so seriously. I’ll tell the boys to go easy on you if it really matters so much.”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo said. “And don’t call me Soo.”

“Okay, babe,” Kim said.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, tried desperately to at least keep them in his skull.

“By the way, just so you know,” Kyungsoo said, feeling weirdly defensive, “it’s good to instill a sense of competition in kids. It’s healthy.”

“Somehow, I don’t think this is about Joey scouts,” Kim said, walking past Kyungsoo and patting him gently on the shoulder, lingering just a little as Kyungsoo’s anger flashed.

He wheeled around to glare at Kim’s retreating form.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyungsoo asked.

Kim took his time facing Kyungsoo again. He closed the distance between them, and suddenly, Kyungsoo’s throat felt inexplicably thick, like he was about to go into anaphylactic shock.

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, unsure of why Kim was so close to him.

“Meet me tonight,” Kim said. “By the big pine tree near the cabin.”

Before Kyungsoo could think of any reply, any reply at all, Kim was gone, chasing after the group of their Joeys and leading them towards the lake.

The opening ceremony of the jamboree is as boring as ever, what with all the pomp and circumstance. There’s torches being lit, a reading of their code, and a speech from the Joey Scout chief director. The kids can barely sit still, even with Kyungsoo there staring daggers at them to keep quiet. He prides himself on having the most respectful Joeys, and he’s damn sure not giving that title up any time soon.

Kim’s Joeys aren’t raising hell, but they might as well be, Kyungsoo thinks irrationally. Kim sucks at keeping them under control.

He hadn’t realized he was staring at Kim, but when Kim turns slightly and his eyes meet Kyungsoo’s, Kyungsoo looks away quickly, feeling every bit caught. He’s such an idiot. Fuck, he knows that Kim latches onto any little thing and torments him with it. What a fatal mistake he’s made.

He flicks his eyes up, back over to Kim to see him still staring back.

Kim smiles, bright white and victorious.

Fuck.

Kyungsoo felt like an idiot, a total moron. He didn’t even know why he was going. Kim was probably playing a trick on him, trying to throw him off before the final games the next day. Kyungsoo knew it was a bad idea, and yet somehow no logical thought could stop him from climbing the hill and standing next to the towering pine tree that threw shadows over the campsites below. He leaned against the trunk of the tree, stared up at the moon and stars. They were so bright here, with no light pollution for miles.

Jamboree was always at the end of summer, leaning into fall, when the ugly height of the heat was breaking and the nights started to get cooler. Kyungsoo was wearing a thin t-shirt so he rubbed absently at the goosebumps on his arms as he waited. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. All for what? A half-assed explanation of why Kim was constantly goading him into this stupid little rivalry by being his terrible, lackadaisical self? Fuck, Kyungsoo was such a dumbass. He thought...he didn’t know what he thought, but whatever part of him that compelled him to trust Kim was clearly deranged.

He pushed himself up from where he was leaning, ready to walk back down the hill and slide back into his tent when he ran chest first into him.

“Whoa,” Kim said. “Eager?”

Kyungsoo scoffed.

“You wish, Kim,” he said.

“Jesus, you sound like you’re in a drama,” Kim said. “Call me Jongin.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo said.

“Because that’s my name?” Kim said, smirking like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, too bad. I prefer it this way,” Kyungsoo said, crossing his arms.

The movement drew Kim’s eyes, and Kyungsoo didn’t like Kim looking at him like that. Like there was something behind it.

“Are you cold?” Kim asked.

“No,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Kim smiled.

“I’m fuckin’ fine,” Kyungsoo said. “Why am I here anyway? Wanna shit-talk me before my troop wipes the floor with yours tomorrow? Or did you wanna beg me to take it easy on you? Make some kind of bet over it? You might as well save your money, because we’re gonna win.”

Kim stares at him, wide-eyed and mouth opened slightly, and for a minute, Kyungsoo feels exceptionally proud of himself. Then, he realizes Kim doesn’t look like that because Kyungsoo managed to shut him up.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Kim asked, incredulously, eyes shining with wonder.  

“Get what?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Not to be a jerkoff,” Kim said, smiling as he put his hands in Kyungsoo’s before pulling Kyungsoo’s body to his, “but you’re kinda dense.”

Kim wrapped a steady arm around the small of Kyungsoo’s back, his other hand warm on Kyungsoo’s neck. It seemed like they both stopped breathing as Kim brought his face close to Kyungsoo’s.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Kyungsoo stuttered.

“Kissing you,” Kim said.

And then, without another sound, Kim kept his word.

The fire light is beautiful, sending everyone’s faces shimmering yellow and amber. The night is full of raucous laughter, screaming into the night sky, and endless amounts of sugar. Kyungsoo smiles as he listens to them goof off. He tries to keep up appearances, half drill sergeant and half hard-nosed father figure, but...he just really likes the kids. He likes when they’re happy, when they’re having fun. He can’t help himself sometimes.

Kim sits down next to him, jarring him out of thought. He’s got a s'more in his hand, offering it to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo looks the other way.

“What?” he says. “You gluten free now?”

Kyungsoo ignores him, puts a foot of distance between them on the log where they’re seated.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Kim says, before gesticulating with the s'more in his hand. “I came bearing the gift of my love.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Kyungsoo asks, but to his horror, it comes out like a whine.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kim asks, scooting closer to Kyungsoo once more.

He smiles. Kyungsoo’s stomach clenches at it, like someone grabbing at his guts and twisting them in a hand.

It was hard to admit to himself, so he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t acknowledge the feelings at all. With time, he hopes, they’ll just go away entirely, smoking into the summer air like the dying sparks of the fire.

“We have to stop,” Kyungsoo said, still completely unclear on what was happening.

“Why?” Kim said, kissing a line of blazing hot marks down Kyungsoo’s neck. It made it hard to breathe and even harder to think. He felt himself getting hard against his leg, his entire body pulsing with arousal.

“Because,” Kyungsoo said, “the kids. They’re right there.”

“They’re down the hill,” Kim said, amusement thick in his voice.

He had Kyungsoo’s back pressed up against the tree, a thigh slotted between Kyungsoo’s. The position was unfamiliar for him, but he found he...didn’t mind it too much. He twisted his hips, pressing against Kim and biting back a groan when he felt that Kim was as hard as he was.

“If you’re worried, keep an eye on ‘em,” Kim said before putting his open mouth hot on the juncture of Kyungsoo’s jaw and throat. “I’m doing good work here, and they’re not going anywhere.”

“W-we,” Kyungsoo started, but Kim immediately trapped him with a kiss, his tongue winding with Kyungsoo’s, mirroring the move of his hips.

“We what?” Kim teased. He looked...fuck, Kyungsoo didn’t even wanna say. His hair was stuck up every which way. Kyungsoo figured that was his fault as he was the one buying his hands there and pulling roughly. His cheeks were pinking up, the slightest edge of flush on his face. His lips were wet and red. Kyungsoo looked away sharply.

“We can’t do this,” Kyungsoo said.

“Come on,” Kim said, running his hands up and down the sides of Kyungsoo’s abdomen. “Loosen up.”

“No,” Kyungsoo said staunchly, putting his palms flat on Kim’s shoulders to push him backwards.

“Kyungsoo,” Kim said, and shit, that’s only the second time Kim’s called him that.

The first time was when he first met him just four days ago. Ever since, Kim’s been calling him Soo, just like his Joeys. To annoy him, of course. He hated it. It felt too--it felt like they were closer that they were. It didn’t matter why he hated it, he just did.

He hated the way Kim talked to the kids, the way he pulled laughter from people. He hated the way Kim could just smile at people and get them to do shit for him. He hated the way Kim taught his kids, brutally relaxed. He hated the way Kim moved, like the breeze carried him. He hated the way Kim could talk his way out of anything, talk anyone into anything. He hated the way Kim licked over his lips when he was challenging Kyungsoo, when he wanted to get a rise out of him. Kyungsoo hated just about everything about Kim, and yet, here he was, desperate to get Kim’s mouth back on his body.

Kyungsoo looked at Kim, and there was sadness there, in his eyes and in his expression. Kyungsoo didn’t fucking understand it at all.

“What?” he asked, suddenly intensely aware of the way his lips were buzzing. “What are you doing this for? What--are you trying to distract me?”

For the first time, Kyungsoo sees disappointment flash on Kim’s face. It’s hot and scary, the way his dark eyes darken impossibly. His eyebrows knit together, and he brings a hand up to rub at his forehead. Then, as quickly as it came, it went.

“Kyungsoo, stop,” Kim said calmly. “Just stop. Do you really think this is about some dumb rivalry? Do you really think this is about my Joeys versus your Joeys?”

“Yes?” Kyungsoo said. “What else would it be about?”

Kim sighed, like his body was sinking back into his feet. He ran a hand through his hair, combed through it with his fingers to tame it.

“I’m not gonna walk you through this, Kyungsoo,” Kim said. “You come find me when you figure it out.”

Kim walked back to his campsite. Kyungsoo watched as he slipped back into his tent. Kyungsoo looked at the bright white moon for a couple minutes more before following suit.

The next morning, Kyungsoo feels worse than he has in years. Maybe I’m getting old, he thinks. Fuck, maybe I’m already old. He rolls over, feeling his back ache. He’s never camping again.

The bright light of the break of day hits him squarely in the face as he unzips the tent. He wishes he could go back to bed, but he knows he’s been scheduled to help with breakfast. He’s not trying to ditch a responsibility. That's not his style.

He stretches, lets his body adjust to the miserable state of things. Afterwards, he feels slightly better. He’ll feel even better, he thinks, when he has a cup of coffee in his hands.

Like magic, he smells it. Coffee.

Instinctively, he jerks his head in the direction it’s coming from and...oh, of fucking course.

“Would you believe that I was the only one who thought to bring coffee?” Kim asks, smiling like it isn’t six in the morning. "Out of twenty leaders, just little ol' me." 

“I would believe that,” Kyungsoo says, “seeing as my entire life is a huge fucking cosmic joke.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Kim tuts. “Language, Soo.”

“Kiss my ass,” Kyungsoo says.

“With pleasure,” Kim replies, and Jesus Christ. This guy.

“Can I just...just,” Kyungsoo says, reaching for the paper cup that Kim holds delicately in his hands.

“Can you just what?” Kim asks.

“Please,” Kyungsoo says, not above begging. Not when it’s for coffee.

“You’re so nice when I have something you want,” Kim smiles.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know if it’s the way he slept last night, the pain still spiking up his back, or the early morning air, or the addictive smell of the coffee, or the way Kim looks so fucking good in the warm light of the sunrise, but something makes him say it. Something incredibly dumb.

“You always have something I want,” he says before his fuckin’ medulla oblongata can clench his mouth shut.

Kim, for his part, looks stunned. Which would be a victory for Kyungsoo if he hadn’t just said something….well, something incredibly dumb.

“Soo,” he says, putting the cup of coffee in Kyungsoo’s hands. He looks serious for the first time ever in his entire fuckin' life. Kyungsoo doesn’t like it. “I…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Kyungsoo says. “I have to go help with breakfast.”

“Congratulations,” Kim said to him, smiling.

Normally, Kyungsoo could...he didn’t know, he could maybe feel something else besides whatever Kim had got going on on the top layer. Normally, he knew what was lying underneath. At that moment, it was nothing. There was nothing there but happiness. There was nothing besides being happy for Kyungsoo.

What the fuck, Kyungsoo thought. What kind of idiot was happy to lose?

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo said, the deeply ingrained politeness winning over Kyungsoo’s desire to shove Kim’s face in it.

The Joeys were off, running around. Celebrating. Play fighting. Enjoying their last day. Kim stood next to Kyungsoo as they watched together. Kyungsoo was already listing things in his head that needed to get done before they could pull out in a few hours. Still, Kyungsoo thought, maybe Kim was right about some things. Maybe he could stand to loosen up a little, especially with the boys. Kyungsoo turned to look at Kim, but to Kyungsoo’s surprise, Kim was already staring at him.

“What?” Kyungsoo said, reaching up to rub at his cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Nah,” Kim said, grinning. “You’re just really fuckin’ cute when you think that hard.”

Kyungsoo felt himself redden at that. He turned away from Kim quickly, stared at the dirt under his feet. He felt the overwhelming need to run from this, to fight it with everything he had in him.

“Shut up,” he said in response, so weak that even he didn’t believe himself.

“Now you’re even cuter,” he hears Kim say exasperatedly. “What am I supposed to do here? I told myself I was gonna be patient and let you figure things out, but you are overwhelmingly cute.”

Kyungsoo looked up at Kim through his eyelashes, barely even trusting himself not to throw his body into Kim’s. To fight him, to fuck him. Kyungsoo didn’t know. What was Kim doing, Kyungsoo wondered. What was he doing, and why was it working?

“Kyungsoo,” Kim said, grabbing Kyungsoo’s arm.

Kyungsoo steeled himself, turned himself towards Kim and faced him. Kim’s eyes were shining like always, warm with affection and so, so alive. Kyungsoo couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold it back. Kyungsoo liked Kim, of course he fuckin’ did. And that’s what was so terrifying.

“I think you’re…,” Kyungsoo started, his stomach in a giant knot and his throat so rough he couldn’t swallow over it. “I think you’re good.”

Too long of a pause. Kyungsoo felt himself about to run. His feet were jittering. He was ready. He was about to go.

“You think I’m...good?” Kim laughed.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo said, turning away. “Nice knowing you, asshole.”

“Kyungsoo, stop,” Kim said, still laughing. Kim grabbed his arm, pulled Kyungsoo back to face him once more. “I think you’re good too.”

Kyungsoo felt weight he didn’t know he was carrying fall off his shoulder. It was the worst confession he’d ever heard, but...it was a confession all the same.

“Hey,” Kim said, charming smile all alight. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo said, eyeing him warily.

Kim rolled his eyes, good-natured, before he stuck out his hand, palm up. Dutifully, Kyungsoo reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone before placing it in Kim’s hand. Their fingers brushed, and Kyungsoo felt a shock run through his fingertips.

Kim’s fingers quickly punch at the little glass screen, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo said. “Don’t...don’t do anything.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Kim said, gaze locked on his fingers still dancing over the screen. “Jeez, so serious.”

“I’m not that serious,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m a normal amount of serious. Unlike some people.”

Kim took the opportunity at that moment to grab Kyungsoo into an embrace, his arm tight around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. It was warm. Comforting. Kyungsoo tried to avoid burrowing into it.

“Come on,” Kim said. “Picture. Smile.”

“I don’t smile,” Kyungsoo said.

“Sure you do,” Kim said. “I’ll show you. One, two, three.”

And then he kissed Kyungsoo on the cheek, and sure enough, it shocked a laugh out of Kyungsoo.

“There!” Kim said, tapping a few times on the phone before turning it back to Kyungsoo. “Look how cute we are.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t remember ever seeing himself happier, the look of amazement and genuine happiness. Kim looked...like Jongin always looked. Beautiful. Utterly fucking beautiful, eyes squeezed closed and lips pressed to Kyungsoo’s cheek. 

“So now you have my number, and I,” Jongin said, pulling out his phone to show Kyungsoo their shared iMessage thread briefly, “have yours.”

“You sent yourself a text?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Well, of course, I did,” Jongin said. “I’m a very smart cookie, and I figured that if you had the option to avoid me, you absolutely would.”

Kyungsoo swiped through to their conversation, scoffing as he realized that Kim had set his contact information as “Jonginnie" with a little bear and a little heart.  Then, he stared down at the text that Kim had sent himself.

Hiiiiii jonginnie I think ur so cute and adorable and I wanna kiss u but I cant tell u that bc I have a stick up my butt xoxo

“Is it too late to stop this?” Kyungsoo asked, rubbing at his forehead.

“Much, much too late,” Jongin said.

He stares out at Kim from back behind the counter. He watches as Kim fields questions from his Joeys around one of the little tables in the cabin. He watches as Kim eats, wiping his mouth with a napkin, and then sips at his coffee. It’s shitty instant stuff, Kyungsoo knew that now, but shitty coffee is better than no coffee.

Kyungsoo feels all...tangled. All tangled up. He doesn’t....he doesn’t want this. He knows he does, but he really doesn’t. Every part of him is screaming run. Run, you fucking moron. You know what happens here. You know how this story ends.

Kim smirks at him once he finds Kyungsoo looking at him. Kyungsoo ducks behind the counter, just barely avoiding hitting his head on the way down.

Kyungsoo drove the whole way home thinking about Jongin which, strictly speaking, wasn’t the best decision. Every time he tried to shove it out of his head, focus on the road or other cars or even the boys, sleeping soundly in the back, he felt his attention snap right back to...him.

It had been, well, it had been a while since Kyungsoo has let himself feel this way towards another person. Kyungsoo liked Jongin fiercely, in a way that scared him. He didn’t really date. Didn’t like anyone enough to spend his time with them or his money on them.

He walked back into his apartment, throwing his bags on the couch. He’d deal with them later. Work was gonna smack him upside the head in the morning. The Jamboree fell over the weekend, but it still meant he missed three days of work for it. Kyungsoo rarely took vacations, so he didn’t wanna think about the repercussions.

He walked into his bedroom, stripped himself down to his boxers, and flopped face first onto his bed, letting the stress of five days camping leak out of him slowly. He was home. In a bed.

The bed vibrated. Kyungsoo threw an arm over and blindly unlocked his phone before bringing it close enough to read.

I might die before I get back

Please tell my parents I loved them

Kyungsoo flipped himself over, tamping down the swelling of affection in his stomach while typing out his response.

I don’t know your parents.

And I don’t think they’d appreciate you murdering kids on your way out.

Kyungsoo locked his phone and shut his eyes. He shouldn’t have bothered, he realized, after Jongin’s response comes just a few seconds later.

Im not gonna murder anyone but if i get one more

flick to the back of the head Im gonna mcfreakin lose it 

Kyungsoo snorted.  

Text me when you get home. It’s not safe to text and drive.

Im not driving atm

Peeeeee breaaaak

He wondered to himself how he managed to find himself in this position, texting a man he thought insufferable and awful just a week prior. How long had this been simmering under the surface, Kyungsoo wondered. How long had Jongin felt this? This hadn’t been their first encounter, not with all the regional meetings through the year, though it certainly had been the most prolonged one. The vibration of his phone interrupted his thoughts.

Send me a dick pic 

Jesus Christ.

Die.

They get their schedules after breakfast that morning. Kyungsoo’s anxious to get started, looking for something, anything to focus on besides Kim Jongin.

Their first scheduled activity is volleyball. Kyungsoo doesn’t think about the last time, doesn’t even entertain the thought. He just pumps the kids up, making sure they practice their bumps before he sends them out for their first game.

“We’re gonna win,” Joaquin says simply. “We’re the best troop.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Kyungsoo warns. “There are lots of good troops. You guys have to work really hard and work together if you wanna win Best Teamwork two years in a row.”

“We got this, Soo!” Leon says, jumping up and down. “No worries!”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes affectionately.

“Alright, hands in,” he says, putting his hand out so that the group can through their hands on top of his. “Win on three. One, two, three.”

“Win!” they shout in unison. They cheer after that, dispersing to their positions before Kyungsoo can shout at their backs, “Oh, and have fun!”

Kyungsoo stands on the sideline, yelling a few pointers when he can. He’s not exactly an athlete, but there’s something in him that just...wants so desperately to be the best at everything. And he relaxes here, he does. He’s not going crazy or anything. In the back of his mind, he hears Kim telling him to calm down, to enjoy himself. And that just makes him want to win more.

He need not worry, of course. 407 wins the first heat easily, and Kyungsoo tries not to look too pleased with himself.

Other troop leaders come over to jokingly ask what he’s feeding his Joeys.

“Nothing but their Wheaties,” he says, ducking his head. “Excuse me.”

He walks over to wear the boys are shaking hands and hugging with the other troop, something he made sure to instruct them to do. Kyungsoo may want to win, but he wants them to win with manners and some humility.

Kyungsoo’s escorting his Joeys back to campsite A, heads held high with their first taste of victory, when they pass by the 430s on their way to the lake. At least, that’s what Kyungsoo assumes. Kim’s shirtless, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“You boys win?” Kim asks Kyungsoo’s Joeys, smiling when they whoop to the affirmative. “Nice, let the good times roll.”

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says, jaw tight.

“We just finished up with kickball,” Kim says. “Got our first win out of the way.”

The 430s let out something that sounds like a battle cry, and Kim echoes it, shouting into the air and thumping a fist on his chest. Kyungsoo wishes he was dead.

“Congratulations,” Hwan says dutifully.

“Thanks, buddy,” Kim smiles. “We’re on our way to go swimming. You guys should come.”

“No, thank you,” Kyungsoo says, continuing to walk in the direction of their campsite.

“Suit yourself!” Kim calls back.

“Aw,” Leon says, “come on, Soo. Please.”

“Yeah, please,” Finn says. “I was finally gonna get that one kid back for dunking me last year.”

“Brian,” Hwan supplies.

“Yeah, Brian!” Finn says. “I’m gonna give him a wedgie too.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Kyungsoo says, “because we aren’t going swimming right now.”

“Why not?” Elijah whines. “The 430s get to!”

“Good thing you’re the 407s and not the 430s then,” Kyungsoo says. “Come on, clean up the site, and then we’ll review the differences between safe snakes and poisonous snakes.”

The boys scuff their way back to their camp, dragging their feet along the way. Kyungsoo should have agreed, he knows he should have let them swim, but he just can’t stand to be there around Kim. Not with the way they left things. Not with how Kim gets under his skin and sticks there like a splinter.

He supervises as the Joeys clean up their surroundings, adding their trash to the compost that they’ve started. Kyungsoo thought it was the perfect time to start the “reuse” part of their Reduce, Reuse, Recycle badge.

“Hey.”

Kyungsoo turns to see Kim, skin still shining from the water, hair dripping wet.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo says, before turning back around. “Shouldn’t you be supervising your children? You know, in the one area where it’s most likely for them to die?”

He hears Kim laugh.

“There are plenty of leaders down there,” Kim says. “Plus, I told the lifeguard I’d be right back.”

“Better get back then,” Kyungsoo says. “I won’t keep you.”

“Kyungsoo,” Kim says. “Come on.”

For some reason, that really gets on Kyungsoo’s nerves. His last nerve, to be honest. Kyungsoo turns around, feeling the heat rise in him. He feels himself going red and not from the sun.

“What?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Bring them down to the lake,” Kim says gently. Soft.

“You don’t get to say things like that anymore,” Kyungsoo says. “You can’t just use that voice whenever you want something and expect to get it.”

“Bring the kids to the lake, and I’ll stop,” Kim says.

Kyungsoo should hold fast. He shouldn’t give in. It sets a dangerous precedent. If he relents, soon he relents for something bigger. It’s a slippery slope with Kim. It always had been.

“Fine,” Kyungsoo says quietly, before turning back to the Joeys. “Snake review postponed. Get changed. We’re going to the stupid lake.”

Campsite A erupts into cheers, and Kim Jongin looks entirely too happy.

Kyungsoo is fucked.

Kyungsoo found a new rhythm. Usually, he was not a fan of new rhythms. He’s not much of a dancer, after all. Still, the way Jongin slid into his life, unabashedly interested and interesting, made Kyungsoo rethink some things.

They texted back and forth all day, every day, whenever Kyungsoo could get the chance. Their conversations stretched on from day to night and then back to day. Kyungsoo would lose all sense of time if he wasn’t keenly aware of how much he’s slacking off by busying himself on his phone stealthily under his desk.

Every time he got a vibration in his pocket, some little inconsequential thought from Jongin (“im getting a burrito for dinner” or “dance kicked my asssss, I need a massage” or “that new Thor movie looks dope”), his heart would start beating like crazy. Kyungsoo knew what it meant. He knew he was deep in the shit at that point. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

Jongin called him every night around the same time, and honestly, it was so high school that Kyungsoo thought he might fuckin’ die.

“Hello, Do Kyungsoo. This is Kim Jongin calling,” he said, the same greeting every single time.

“Hello, Kim Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, the same response. Every single time.

“How was your day, Do Kyungsoo?” Jongin asked. He huffed out a breath, and Kyungsoo could imagine him lying back in bed, much like Kyungsoo had done just minutes ago.

“Fine,” Kyungsoo said.

“Oh, you can do better than that,” Jongin said. “More syllables, please.”

“It was fine,” Kyungsoo said. “There’s two more syllables for you.”

Jongin laughed, and it sent a warmth spreading through Kyungsoo’s stomach. He...he really liked making Jongin laugh. Even though Jongin laughed at fucking everything, he still liked it.

“Well, here, at least answer my questions,” Jongin offered. “What’s going on with the missing shipping container? Still a fiasco? Still all fucky?”

“Found it,” Kyungsoo said proudly. “Finally.”

“Excellent,” Jongin said. “I told you you’d get it done. If there’s one thing I know, Do Kyungsoo, it’s that when you put your mind to something, that something gets done.”

Something hot flamed up in Kyungsoo’s heart like a firework bursting in the sky.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo said.

“And the review?” Jongin asked. “With the big scary boss man?”

“I never said big or scary,” Kyungsoo said.

“I inferred,” Jongin said. “Because I am both smart and beautiful.”

Kyungsoo smiled.

“It went well,” Kyungsoo said. “Better than I thought, I guess. He said he was interested in promoting me. He thinks I have managerial potential because of my crisis management skills.”

“Soo!” Jongin exclaimed. “Excuse the fuck out of me, Soo, but did you literally get promoted today and you opened our conversation with ‘oh, my day was fine’?”

“I didn’t get promoted,” Kyungsoo said, unable to stop himself from smiling. “Just...maybe it will happen soon.”

“God, can’t you just taste it,” Jongin said wistfully. “Can’t you smell it in the air? Mm. Eau de promotion.”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo said, still smiling. It was impossible not to smile. Jongin was the biggest goofball in the world. “How was your day?”

“It was excellent!” Jongin said enthusiastically. “Work was good, all the kids are so stinkin’ cute. They all say they have crushes on each other, it’s so adorable. Like, they’re three, what would they know about crushes? Anyway...um. Right. Dance was so good. I mean, I’m sweating my balls off, but shit, it was fun. New choreo, new me.”

Kyungsoo could spend forever listening to Jongin talk. The excitement is infectious.

“What song?” Kyungsoo asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Cake,” Jongin said. “By Rihanna.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said, knitting his eyebrows together. “I’ve never heard it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you only listen to old people music,” Jongin said. “This is for the youths. Live fast, die young, that sort of thing.”

“I’m a youth,” Kyungsoo argued. “I’m plenty youthful.”

“You’re an eighty year old trapped in a 25 year old’s body,” Jongin laughed. “But you’re lucky I like it.”

The bottom of Kyungsoo’s stomach dropped out in that pleasant way it always did when Jongin said something like that.

“Got a thing for older men?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Of course,” Jongin said, just above a whisper. “When it’s you.”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, let himself linger in the feeling. It was something else, the way Jongin spoke. Like Kyungsoo was special. Something to be treasured.

“You should see this dance,” Jongin said, ripping Kyungsoo out of thought like always. “You’d like it.”

“What makes you say that?” Kyungsoo asked.

“It’s sexy,” Jongin said, voice low like it was a secret.

Kyungsoo had no idea how Jongin could go from so cute to so hot so quickly, but it gave him whiplash, and something about Jongin’s voice put him directly on edge.

“What’s so sexy about it?” Kyungsoo asked.

“You’ll just have to see it,” Jongin said. “Words don’t do it justice.”

“Looking forward to it,” Kyungsoo said, liking the idea of being in a room with Jongin again. Especially if it meant Jongin would be dancing for him. “It’d be nice to see you again.”

“Soo,” Jongin whined.

“What?”

“I miss you,” Jongin said.

“It hasn’t even been two weeks,” Kyungsoo said. “You can’t miss me yet.”

“Of course I can! Don’t you miss me?” Jongin asked, barreling forward. “Don’t you wish you could touch me right now?”

Kyungsoo wanted with every fiber of his being to touch Jongin. He wanted to see him arch his back, throw his head back so that Kyungsoo could kiss at his neck and hear what he would say. Feel his throat move as he moaned. He wanted to move his hands along Jongin’s arms again, touch the swell of his biceps and dig his nails in to hear Jongin gasp. He ached for it. Everywhere. Every day, really. He wished he didn’t feel so strongly so soon, but it was ever present and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Soo?” Jongin asked, voice timid in a way that Kyungsoo had never heard it before.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, rubbing at where he could feel his jaw tense. “I wish I could touch you.”

That earned him a breathy moan, and oh, Kyungsoo wanted more of it. He needed more of it.

“Tell me more,” Jongin ordered. “Tell me what you’d do if you were here.”

“No,” Kyungsoo teased. “You’ll get more when I see you.”

“Well, who knows when that could be?” Jongin said.

“I do,” Kyungsoo said. “Next Friday.”

“What’s next Friday?” Jongin asked.

“Next Friday,” Kyungsoo said, “is when I’m going to drive five fuckin’ hours to come take you to dinner.”

“Shut up,” Jongin said. “Shut up. Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t say it if you’re not gonna do it. Are you really? Are you gonna come all the way up here?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, heat flooding his stomach at the thought. “Now don’t make me change my mind.”

“Oh, baby,” Jongin said, lilting like he was smiling. “Never.”

“Right,” Kyungsoo said.

“How could you change your mind? I’m gonna make you come so hard, Soo.”

“Fuck off, stop it,” Kyungsoo said, pressing his palm to his crotch before retracting it quickly.

“Listen, I’m trying to have phone sex with you,” Jongin explained, “but you’re especially eager to cockblock yourself.”

“It’s not a cockblock if I’m gonna get balls deep in you in one week’s time,” Kyungsoo said. “It’s called patience.”

“Of which I have none!” Jongin whined. “Come on. More. Say balls deep again. Except say it slower this time. And tell me I’ve been a bad boy.”

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

Kyungsoo sat on his towel at the lake shore, far away from the rest of humanity, watching as the kids played a bit too rough for his liking. He was trying his best to be less of a control freak, though, so he bit his lip and said nothing. Pulling back. Stepping in only if he needed to.

“That’s a good look,” Kim says, sitting down next to him. “Bite your lip more.”

“Fuck off,” Kyungsoo sneers. “Shouldn’t you be out there showboating?”

“I’ve showboated enough,” Kim says, laying back a little and patting his stomach. “Look at this. Boat practically shows itself. Wanna wash your clothes on me?”

Kyungsoo avoids looking, knowing what he’d see there.

“Come on, Soo, live a little.” Kim chides. “If a six pack falls in the woods, but there’s no one there to ogle it, does it make a sound?”

“You make less sense with each passing minute,” Kyungsoo says, eyes trained forward.

“Can’t help myself,” Kim says. “You drive me absolutely wild, Kyungsoo.”

“I wish you would go and get yourself committed then,” Kyungsoo says.

Kim laughs softly, and a silence falls over them. Kyungsoo is thankful for it. Kim is gonna continue to bother him for the afternoon; he’s given up all hope otherwise. The most he can hope for, now, is at least a little peace and quiet in the meantime.

“I wanted to talk,” Kim says entirely too soon.

“We were talking,” Kyungsoo says, watching as Finn dunks a boy under the water for a couple seconds before letting him sputter back up to the surface.

“I wanted to talk seriously,” Kim clarifies. “About us.”

“I would rather die,” Kyungsoo says.

“Soo.”

“No, you didn’t let me finish,” Kyungsoo says, turning to look at him. “I’d rather sit on a fucking cactus. I’d rather get rimmed by a colony of fire ants. I’d rather join the circus. I’d rather join Cirque du fuckin’ Soleil. I’d rather--”

“You’ve made your point,” Kim laughs.

“I’d rather eat dirt. I’d rather eat dirt for the rest of my life,” Kyungsoo says. “I’d rather show my mother my porn collection.”

“You have a porn collection?” Kim asks, eyebrow raised.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Kyungsoo asks.

“I’ve never thought about it,” Kim says. “I wouldn’t call mine a collection. I’d call mine a loose group of synapses dedicated to certain pornhub keywords and search items.”

“You don’t have the links memorized?” Kyungsoo asks. “Amateur.”

Kim laughs again, this time from his belly. Deep and happy. Kyungsoo’s stomach just hurts.

“Not there yet,” Kim says. “Not yet.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to operate in this flirtatious space he’s somehow constructed, so he keeps his mouth shut and hopes it goes away.

“I just wanted to say,” Kim starts, but the way he sounds, so heartfelt and honest...Kyungsoo doesn’t wanna hear it.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “Don’t.”

“I just wanted to say,” Kim talks over him, “that I wasn’t happy with the way we left things.”

It’s fury, red hot and biting and clawing its way out of him like smoke.

“Well, that fuckin’ sucks for you,” Kyungsoo says. “Now get the fuck off my towel.”

His hands were practically wet on the wheel. While he did take a half day of work for it, Kyungsoo didn’t know why he was so nervous. There was nothing to be nervous about. If things went poorly, he could always go into witness protection.

Kyungsoo’s phone pinged steadily throughout the drive, occasionally interrupting his music and navigation. He took no time to read the texts he was sure were coming from Jongin. He’d be there soon.

When he pulled up outside Jongin’s little apartment building, he read them carefully.

Kyungsoo if you dont get here within five seconds i am going to scream

Well good job, im screaming, arent u proud of urself  

My neighbors are going to hate me but this is the price we must pay

Fuck ok apparently you’re a very studious driver, im gonna go

finger myself in the shower

All done

Freshly lotioned too,,,,, im all slipperrrryyyyyy

Maybe i should just not wear clothes

FINE, since u refuse to respond, i will put on clothes. fuckass

Kyungsoo ignored the urge to bite the inside of his cheek, a habit he’s picked up in the past several weeks. He lets himself smile instead before quickly shooting off a text.

Hey, I’m here. Would you like me to come up? Or should

I wait in the car for you?

He wipes his hands on his pants, trying to make himself stop sweating. This was nothing. This was fine. He was fine, and there was nothing to be nervous about.

Come up!!!!!!!! Ill buzz u in

16A!!!!

Kyungsoo smiled again, not able to help himself. He’d been looking forward to it since he pulled out of the Laughing Waters parking lot. Finally, he and Jongin would be together again. And alone, this time.

Be right there.

He walked a little more briskly than usual into the building and into the stairwell once Jongin let him in. His phone vibrated again in his pocket as he was making his way up the flight of stairs.

What time is the reservation, do i have time to suck ur dick

before we go??? 

Kyungsoo shook his head.

He knocked three times on the door, a gold-colored 16A shining back at him. Kyungsoo jammed his hands in his pockets, not wanting to look awkward.

Jongin opened the door, and Jesus Christ, Kyungsoo had apparently forgotten how breathtakingly beautiful he was. Shining, dewy skin. Dark, endlessly warm eyes. Full red lips, curving up in a perfect smile. He wore a crisp white button down, rolled at the sleeves, and dark blue dress pants. He was as handsome a person as Kyungsoo had ever seen in his entire life, and Kyungsoo was unsure how he managed to spend so long playing dumb to himself.

“I. Have. Missed you,” Jongin said, dragging Kyungsoo into an embrace and across the threshold before kissing him soundly.

Kyungsoo didn’t hold back, kissed him back with as much force as he could. It was a mess of tongue, but Kyungsoo chalked that up to excitement. He was normally so reserved, but something about the way Jongin looked, the way he held Kyungsoo’s body to his...it drove Kyungsoo crazy. Jongin writhed in Kyungsoo’s grip, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but tangle his hands in Jongin’s hair, messing up the careful styling.

He pulled back enough to see Jongin breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling fast.

“Fuck,” Jongin said. “I was just joking about the blowjob, but…”

Kyungsoo laughed.

“Shut up,” he said.

“I’m not joking,” Jongin said, eyes wandering down Kyungsoo’s body to where they were pressed together before pushing his hips into Kyungsoo’s again. “Can I suck your cock?”

“We haven’t…,” Kyungsoo stumbled. “We haven’t gone out yet. Dinner.”

“I know, I know,” Jongin said, taking his hands from Kyungsoo’s sides to toy with Kyungsoo’s belt buckle. “But…”

Kyungsoo laughed a little too sharply, feeling distinctly on edge at how easy Jongin could take him apart, before slapping Jongin’s hands away.

“After,” he said, full of promise.

Jongin huffed mightily, tonguing over his lips. Even redder than when Kyungsoo first came in. Heaven help him.

“I better come at least twice,” Jongin said. “You hear me? Twice!”

“Three times, if you’re good,” Kyungsoo said, unable to keep the smile away. “Now come on, we’ll be late.”

 ❌⭕️

“I want wine,” Jongin said, staring at the back of the menu. “I wanna get you drunk.”

“Oh my god,” Kyungsoo said. “No.”

“Why not?” Jongin said, putting down his menu and putting his elbows on the table before putting his chin in his hands. “I think you’d be fun drunk.”

“Are you saying I’m not fun sober?” Kyungsoo said, cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Jongin said.

“I wasted like, 50 dollars in gas on this,” Kyungsoo said, pushing back from the table like he was about to leave, and Jongin’s laugh rang out, crystalline and beautiful.

“I bet you get all goofy,” Jongin said. “You act like you’re some tough guy. But I bet you’re just a big softy.”

“I’ll show you soft,” Kyungsoo muttered.

“You better be showing me hard,” Jongin said, and Kyungsoo resisted the urge to leap over the table to throttle him.

“I swear to God, I can’t take you anywhere,” Kyungsoo said.

“You could take me home.”

“Good God, does it ever end?”

Kyungsoo took a large sip of his water.

“I’m clean, by the way,” Jongin said. “I got tested on Tuesday.”

“Christ,” Kyungsoo said. “Did you run out on Sunday night trying to find someone to do a blood test?”

“Well, fuck you, I thought it’d be relevant,” Jongin said. “What about you?”

“Yeah, uh, I am also clean,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin smiled, filthy and promising.

“Get me wine,” he said.

Kyungsoo obliged him, ordered a Pinot Noir, if not just so that he could get Jongin’s near-blinding smile turned back on him once more. It was addicting, like the sun shining on your skin after being cold for so long.

“So fancy,” Jongin said. “Now I can officially say I’ve been wined, dined, and sixt--”

“You finish that statement, I’ll kill you,” Kyungsoo warned.

Jongin bit his lip, smothering another grin, and God, did he always look so perfect? Kyungsoo lowered his head and stared at his lap for a minute, thinking about how his face was starting to hurt from all the smiling.

“You look so pretty like that,” Jongin said softly.

Kyungsoo looked up to meet his eyes once more, and the ever-present smile was gone. He was staring at Kyungsoo, so serious it sent a chill up Kyungsoo’s spine.

“Like what?” Kyungsoo said.

“Happy,” Jongin said.

The 407s keep rolling.

Kyungsoo watches from the sidelines as the boys win, win, and win some more, much to the dismay of the other troops. A certain part of him feels smug, but the rest of him just feels...bad. And bad for no reason. 

He sees Kim everywhere, all day, and his voice won’t stop ringing in Kyungsoo’s head. Wasn’t happy. The way they left things . Kyungsoo shoves the words out of his head, feeling the anger surge up inside him the way it always does when he hears them.

He walks around the campsites after the boys turn in. He does a wide lap about three or four times, just trying to get his head on straight. He meditates, lets his mind go blank. Stares up at the tops of the pine and maple trees, watches the sky go indigo and then black. He hums to himself, the half melodies he has in his head. It’s nice, he thinks, just to not think about anything for a while.

“Hey.”

Kim falls into step beside him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo shorts. Kyungsoo doesn’t respond. He just continues his meditation. One, he counts. Two. Three. Fou-

“Still mad at me?”

Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Ni-

“Okay, you’re still mad.”

Nine. Ten, eleven, twelve.

“Kyungsoo, please. I wanted to apologize.”

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

“I mean, you don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to. Please just hear me out.”

Kyungsoo stops counting.

“I just wanted to say,” Kim says, “that the whole thing...it was such a mess. We both said some things we didn’t mean.”

“I meant everything I said,” Kyungsoo says suddenly. “I never said anything to you that I didn’t mean.”

Kim wears the same look of hurt that Kyungsoo remembers, and Kyungsoo gets a sick sense of pride. Kyungsoo can still affect him. Kyungsoo can still hurt him. He’s not invincible like he pretends.

“Do you mean that?” Kim asks.

Kyungsoo tries to put more distance between them, and he speeds up his walk. Kim doesn’t fall behind though.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t.”

Kyungsoo hears Kim sigh out beside him. It sounds like relief. Kyungsoo feels the pit in his stomach deepen.

Dinner was good, if disjointed, the way good dinners are. Kyungsoo didn’t touch his food for long stretches of time as he answered Jongin’s questions, before asking Jongin a question of his own, digging in, and watching Jongin answer him keenly.

They finished the bottle of wine together over dessert. It was a rich, sumptuous tiramisu, and the way Jongin looked at it, Kyungsoo knew it had been worth it.

“Fuck,” he moaned around his fork. “This is the best I’ve ever had.”

Kyungsoo didn’t reply, bit back a retort. Just smiled.

“Dating is cool,” Jongin said. “I officially accept.”

“You accept?” Kyungsoo asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes, I accept,” Jongin said. “I would like to do this regularly, so I accept."

“I haven’t proposed,” Kyungsoo said.

“Not yet,” Jongin said. “My ass is very, very good.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kyungsoo said. “Must I remind you that we’re in public?”

“Okay, okay,” Jongin said, eating another forkful of the tiramisu. “God. Kyungsoo.”

“I know,” he said, smiling, sipping at his wine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Am I hogging it?” Jongin asked, making no effort to stop himself.

“No,” Kyungsoo lied, watching as Jongin ate his fill.

“Man, you sure know how to treat a girl,” Jongin said. “You must really like me.”

“Don’t get a big head about it,” Kyungsoo said, “but I really do.”

Jongin looked up from where he was busily shoving another piece of cake on his fork. His mouth was open, like for one moment, he wasn’t focused on being a piece of moving art. Even then, he wasn’t ugly; he wore surprise well. Pretty, even.

“Really?” Jongin asked.

“Well, yeah,” Kyungsoo said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I didn’t, I doubt I’d be here.”

“I wondered,” Jongin said, leaning forward, locking eyes with Kyungsoo, “how this all happened so fast. Not that it matters to me, one way or the other. I’m glad you’re here regardless of any of that. I mean, I knew I liked you since the moment I met you. But I did wonder how you managed to go so fast from ‘I hate Kim Jongin’ to ‘I’d like to drive several hours just to take him to an expensive Italian restaurant.’”

Kyungsoo snorted before leaning forward to meet Jongin, elbows on the table.

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo said, folding his hands deliberately on the table. “I guess it was always there. Under the surface. When you...when you tried to get under my skin, it worked.”

“Of course,” Jongin said slyly.

“People usually can’t,” Kyungsoo said. “Nobody really affects me like that. I don’t get...mad easy. I don’t get happy easy either. I’m just sort of...balanced, I guess. My mom always called me even-keel. I really should have known from the beginning. You set me off the way other people can’t. You can--I don’t know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“Say it,” Jongin said, taking Kyungsoo’s hands in his. “Even if it sounds stupid to you.”

“Y-you...you manage to rile me up,” Kyungsoo said, feeling entirely too vulnerable. “Something about you. Something about who you are, how you speak, the way you look, the shit you do and say. You excite me.”

Jongin’s face was unreadable, but gorgeous as it always was. Kyungsoo didn’t dare break the gaze, just looked into Jongin’s eyes until he snapped his eyes away to tell the waiter he’d like the check.

“I wanna get you home,” Jongin said, and every part of Kyungsoo agreed.

❌⭕️

Jongin kept a hand on Kyungsoo’s thigh as he drove them back to the apartment.

“You’re doing an excellent job of not killing us,” Jongin said, letting his hand wander in towards the inside of Kyungsoo’s thigh.

“Like I’d let you die,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yeah, oh my god, what am I talking about? Of course you wouldn’t let me die.You’re too desperate to get...what was the phrasing again? ‘Balls deep’ in me?” Jongin said, running his fingers along the seams of Kyungsoo’s pants.

Kyungsoo breathed out, shaky at best, trying to keep his eyes on the road and his hands at ten and two.

“Is this doin’ it for you?” Jongin asked, rubbing a hand along Kyungsoo’s dick through his pants, tracing the outline of his cock. “Am I sexier than I thought or are you just really easy for me?”

“Both are entirely possible,” Kyungsoo said. “There’s also the distinct chance that those two things are not mutually exclusive.”

“Man, that gets me fucking hot,” Jongin said.  

“What?”

"You liking me so much,” Jongin said. “It makes me wanna eat your ass.”

"J esus,” Kyungsoo laughed.

He drove the speed limit, though not for lack of Jongin trying to persuade him to speed up. Kyungsoo was having a tough time holding himself back, but by the time they were up the stairs to Jongin’s, Jongin was shoving his keys ineffectively at the lock, so Kyungsoo knew he wasn’t alone. And even though Kyungsoo intended to make this something memorable, make this something that would last, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to work Jongin up.  

  Kyungsoo pressed himself against Jongin’s back, pressed him into the door.

“Soo,” Jongin moaned. “Please.”

“Please what?” Kyungsoo asked before kissing along Jongin’s neck.

“Let me get in the door,” Jongin whispered, “otherwise I’ll start begging you to fuck me right here.”

“Really? In the hallway?” Kyungsoo clarified, starting to suck a mark just below Jongin’s ear.

“In about a minute, I will absolutely be an exhibitionist,” Jongin laughed quietly.

He tilted his body back, letting Kyungsoo grind into the swell of his ass. Kyungsoo dragged his hands along Jongin’s arms, along his back. He grabbed him by the hips.

“Wanna test that theory?” Kyungsoo whispered.

Jongin shivered.

The door finally yielded to them, and they tumbled inelegantly inside. Kyungsoo spun Jongin in his arms, kissed him finally, finally. He thought he could probably kiss Jongin forever just to hear the sounds he made, impatient little things that Kyungsoo swallowed down, feeling them warm him from the inside out. He needed to stop before he got carried away.

He broke the kiss, cradling Jongin’s jaw with his hands. He looked between them, looked at the line of their bodies pressed together.

“Come on,” Jongin said, high-pitched and tempting. “Let’s go to my room.”

But Kyungsoo had a plan, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna stick to it. If he would be anything, he would be thorough.

“No,” Kyungsoo said, looking up in time to see Jongin’s face fall.

He kissed the look away quickly, leaving Jongin breathing even more heavily than before. His lips were red and wet, and fuck, Kyungsoo could imagine them everywhere.

Kyungsoo dragged Jongin by the hand to the couch and sat him down there. He quickly toed off his own shoes before dropping to his knees in front of Jongin. A sharp gasp answered him.

“Fuck yes,” Jongin said, burying his hands in Kyungsoo’s hair. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed about this.”

“Keep dreaming,” Kyungsoo smirked, untangling Jongin’s fingers from his hair.

He moved his body lower, out of arm’s length, and began to untie Jongin’s shoes carefully.

“Is this a fetish?” Jongin said. “Is this when I find out you have a foot thing? Are you gonna make me fuck you with my foot?”

“I swear to god,” Kyungsoo said, glaring at Jongin.

“Okay, okay,” Jongin said, amused. “I’ll let you indulge your kink.”

“It’s not a fucking kink,” Kyungsoo said, working Jongin’s shoes off and setting them to the side. “I’m taking my time with you.”

“For what reason, exactly?” Jongin said, voice cracking as Kyungsoo peeled Jongin’s dress socks off too, trailing soft fingertips around his ankles. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am ready, willing, and able. All of the above.”

He just rubbed idly at Jongin’s feet, feeling the tension leak out of Jongin’s body under his hands.

“I wanna make you beg for it. I wanna make you need it,” Kyungsoo said simply, rubbing his knuckles gently into the arch of Jongin’s foot. “I want this to be the best you ever had.”

Jongin groaned, head falling back to rest against the couch.

“Get the fuck up here,” Jongin said, hands grabbing at air. “And stop teasing.”

“All you do is tease,” Kyungsoo said.

He lifts himself up off his knees, even though he’s right. He sits next to Jongin on the couch, the sides of their bodies pressed together.

“Yeah, but that’s the fun kind of teasing,” Jongin said.

Jongin’s head then fell onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder, just a little roll of his neck, and then they looked at each other, smiling.

“Hi,” Jongin said.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo said, reaching a hand up to brush the back of his hand along Jongin’s cheek.

Jongin was sort of flushed, and his hair was pushed back from his forehead, already looking ready to be taken apart bit by bit. He was angelic and filthy, seraphic even while looking completely fuckable. He managed to be both; he managed to be everything. Kyungsoo lost track of time, just looking at Jongin and the peaceful way he looked back.

“Have we waited long enough?” Jongin asked before too long. “Can I sit on your dick now?”

Kyungsoo answered by biting at Jongin’s bottom lip, taking it between his teeth before pulling gently. Jongin followed it, tried to fall into Kyungsoo’s lap, but Kyungsoo pushed him back.

“You know, keep rejecting my advances and I could develop a complex,” Jongin said. “Fine, fine, what virginal thing must we do before you allow me to deep-throat you?"

“Stop,” Kyungsoo said, adjusting his dick in his pants because for all his restraint, fuck. “Let’s just...relax.”

“How can I possibly relax when you’re here?” Jongin asked, and the look in his eyes was so warm, so genuine, that Kyungsoo had to kiss him deeply.

“Humor me for a little while,” Kyungsoo said. “Put on Netflix.”

“You wanna watch a fuckin’ John Mulaney special? Does that really put you in the mood? The Salt and Pepper diner bit?   ‘Required pre-sex viewing ,’ Do Kyungsoo said in his five-star review of The Comeback Kid,” Jongin needled.

“Watch it,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m certainly capable of punishing you if you want.”

Jongin leapt into action, throwing himself across Kyungsoo’s lap before Kyungsoo could wrestle him off.

“Oh, please, daddy, I’ve been so bad,” Jongin moaned. “Spank me. I deserve it. I’m a bad boy. I’m your dirty little whore.”

Kyungsoo patted him on the ass, smiling. He’s won.  

“Christ, you are unflappable,” Jongin said. “I’ve never met a man I couldn’t flap, but here you are. Nowhere even close to flapped. Can you even be flapped? Do you have flaps?”

“Why am I here?” Kyungsoo asked the ceiling. “What have I done to deserve this?”

Jongin got out of his lap, grabbed the remote from the side table and threw it at Kyungsoo’s head.

“Here, find something,” Jongin said, walking in the general direction of the kitchen. “I’m making you drink if you won’t let me hit it yet.”

He returned to the couch a moment later, two beers uncapped. He pushed one into Kyungsoo’s hand before snuggling into his chest, Kyungsoo’s arm falling naturally around Jongin’s shoulder. Kyungsoo felt...settled. In the best way.

“ Amelie? Seriously?” Jongin asked, looking at the movie on the screen.

“What do you have against Amelie?” Kyungsoo asked, taking a quick sip of his beer.

“I just never took you for a twee motherfucker,” Jongin said. “But I guess sometimes you don’t know a man until he steals your remote.”

“First, I am not a twee motherfucker,” Kyungsoo corrected. “If one of us is twee, it’s obviously you. Second, I believe I was gifted the remote.”

“Only because I thought I could kill you with it,” Jongin replied. “Fine, fine. We’ll watch your sentimental trash. But I’m only doing this because I think it’s cute that a hard-ass like you would watch something so soft.”

“I’m not a hard-ass,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin glared.

“Well, only a little,” Kyungsoo amended.

“Kyungsoo!”

The sharp tone shakes him out of thought. He should be paying attention, but he isn’t. Even though his Joeys are busy playing kickball, he’s daydreaming. About no one in particular, of course.

“Did you hear what I said?” Junmyeon asks.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “Sorry.”

Junmyeon sighs, sits down next to him on the bench.

“What’s going on with you and Jongin?” Junmyeon asks.

Kyungsoo feels the panic in his throat, choking him. He tries to stop it, but he feels his eyes go wide.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says, a comforting arm slung over his back. “It’s okay. You just seemed...kinda tense around each other. Lately.”

“Has anyone said anything to you?” Kyungsoo asks. “Have they asked?”

“No,” Junmyeon says. “It’s just something I’ve noticed. You can tell me to leave it alone if you want. I will.”

Kyungsoo likes Junmyeon. He’s an idiot, and he smiles too much. He’s a good leader. He was the only one here Kyungsoo confided in about Kim Jongin. Sometimes Kyungsoo wishes he hadn’t. It makes him feel all spilled out. Too open.

“We’re just…,” Kyungsoo starts, hoping to find what he means to say along the way, but he doesn’t.  

“Just what?” Junmyeon asks.

“Fighting, I guess,” Kyungsoo says lowly, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.

Junmyeon hums. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what that means. He lets it go quiet, eyes raking over the field. Kyungsoo’s Joeys are wrecking shop against Junmyeon’s.

“Just let me know if you want me to kick his butt,” Junmyeon says.

“His butt?” Kyungsoo teases.

“Some of us are G-rated,” Junmyeon says snobbily, “even when the kids aren’t in earshot.”  

“Fuck off,” Kyungsoo says, his smile small.

Junmyeon laughs, and it makes Kyungsoo feel okay.

As they approached the end of the movie, Amelie pursuing Nino with a renewed sense of optimism, Kyungsoo had his hand in Jongin’s hair, scratching at his scalp. Jongin was nearly purring, pawing at Kyungsoo’s chest with enthusiastic hands, but Kyungsoo kept his eyes on the screen, determined as ever.

Jongin looked up at Kyungsoo, and it seemed like, in that moment, he was just as determined as Kyungsoo.

“Kiss me,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo brushed a thumb over Jongin’s bottom lip, watched as lust filled his eyes.

“Ask nicely,” Kyungsoo said.

“Please,” Jongin said, and who was Kyungsoo to deny him?

Kyungsoo kissed Jongin with as much passion as he could, and Jongin responded hungrily.

“Soo,” Jongin whispered along Kyungsoo’s lips.

Like a switch flipped in his brain, Kyungsoo kissed along Jongin’s jaw, his neck. His throat. Along the collar of Jongin’s shirt before pulling it to the side and sucking at Jongin’s collarbone. Kyungsoo focused on one spot, wanting to put something purple and red on him that would stay for days, long after Kyungsoo was gone.

“Soo, please,” Jongin whispered. “Give me more.”

Kyungsoo indulged him, ran a hand over Jongin’s chest before unbuttoning the top few buttons of Jongin’s shirt.

Jongin hissed, pushing his chest up and bearing his neck to Kyungsoo as Kyungsoo continued to kiss his throat.

“Fuck, you gonna leave a mark?” Jongin asked, breathless and beautiful.

Kyungsoo let the skin go from his mouth, watched it redden.

“Is that okay?” Kyungsoo asked, sliding a hand under Jongin’s shirt to rub at his chest.

“Please,” Jongin asked. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“I think everywhere might take too long,” Kyungsoo said, pinching Jongin’s nipple gently and watching him squirm. “I don’t think you’re patient enough for everywhere.”

“Correct,” Jongin said, tangling his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair. “I’ve never been less patient in my entire life. I want to fuck you. Kind of a lot.”

“I can give you a hickey while you ride me,” Kyungsoo said. “We can multitask.”

“Don’t say hickey,” Jongin said. “Don’t make it sound like we’re in high school.”

“Fine. But if we’re going with that theme, I could make you come in your pants,” Kyungsoo said.

He moved his hand down to stroke Jongin through his dress pants, the fabric slippery under his touch. Jongin thrust up into it, a broken sound escaping him.

“Don’t,” Jongin said, half a gasp and half a laugh. “I would.”

“You sure you don’t want to?” Kyungsoo asked. “Seems like you want it.”

Kyungsoo watched pointedly as Jongin moved his hips, pushing up as Kyungsoo continued to stroke him.

“You’re killing me,” Jongin said. “Please. I don’t wanna come in my pants, Soo.”

“Where do you wanna come?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I haven’t considered it,” Jongin said, swallowing thickly as Kyungsoo carefully unzipped Jongin’s pants. “What are my options?”

“Lick,” Kyungsoo said, bringing a hand to Jongin’s mouth.

Jongin obeyed, getting the palm of Kyungsoo’s hand wet with long swipes of his tongue. Kyungsoo dutifully ignored how hard he was, how he could feel himself twitch.  

“It depends,” Kyungsoo continued, working his hand over the head of Jongin’s cock. “Are you sure you wanna ride me?”

“Yeah,” Jongin moaned. “Pretty sure.”

“I could make you come with my mouth first,” Kyungsoo said. “Would you like that?”

“Fuck yes,” Jongin said. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d been dreaming about it.”

“You want me to swallow?” Kyungsoo asked. “Or you wanna come on my face?”

“Shit,” Jongin said, staring down at where Kyungsoo’s fist was sliding over his dick. “Both good options.”

“Very good options,” Kyungsoo said. “I’d love to taste you.”

“But I bet you’d look so fuckin’ good with my come on your face,” Jongin said, almost a whine. “Shit, I would set that as my desktop background.”

“I’ll let you decide, then,” Kyungsoo said, sliding off the couch to kneel before him, “when the time comes.”

“Bad joke.”

“Well, they can’t all be winners.”

“Seriously though this time?” Jongin said, white-knuckling the couch cushions. “Are you actually gonna suck my dick? This isn’t more feet stuff?”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, grabbed Jongin’s dick, and licked at the head.

“Fuck my ass,” Jongin said. “I am going to nut so hard.”

“Maybe hold off a little,” Kyungsoo said, teasing the tip. “Try to enjoy it some.”

Kyungsoo finally lowered his mouth to Jongin’s dick, working into a rhythm as he listened to Jongin’s breathing go more and more unsteady. He tried not to be too eager about it, but he couldn’t stop himself from moaning a little at the feeling of his mouth full, Jongin’s hands respectful at the back of his head.

“Fuck, Soo,” Jongin moaned. “I’m really glad I jerked off before you showed up.”

Kyungsoo redoubled his efforts, hollowing his cheeks and filling the room with the obscene sounds of his sucking. Jongin liked it loud, Kyungsoo found: the louder he was, the louder Jongin responded, words of encouragement and awe.

“Do you ever shut up?” Kyungsoo asked, pulling off with a pop and stroking Jongin with a wet fist.

“When I have a dick in my mouth,” Jongin smiled.

“I could provide that,” Kyungsoo asked.

“I fuckin’ bet you could, stud,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo smirked, sucked Jongin back down and let Jongin’s cock touch the soft back of his throat.

“Good god,” Jongin said, hands suddenly not so respectful as he buried his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair.

Kyungsoo did his best to keep his breathing steady, focused on controlling his reflex. He pulled back, enough to swallow comfortably around Jongin again, then dove back down, nose brushing the low part of Jongin’s abdomen. It had been a while, and it took some getting used to, but he thought he was getting the hang of it again. Definitely not like riding a bike, but maybe like riding something else.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jongin chanted, still not directing Kyungsoo at all, hands tight in his hair like he was just along for the ride. “I’m--”

Kyungsoo fisted Jongin’s cock again, lowered himself to lick at Jongin’s balls as he gasped above. It’d be a lie to say Kyungsoo had never thought of Jongin like this: legs spread, dick wet, and head thrown back in pleasure. During their weeks apart, it was an addictive thought. An even more addictive thought, though, was being in control of it.

Jongin’s breath picked up, little huffs that sounded like they were being forced out of him as Kyungsoo tongued the base of his cock, his slick hand working the head.

“Jesus christ, holy fuck,” Jongin said, and Kyungsoo had never heard him more uncomposed.

“Decision time, baby,” Kyungsoo said.  

“Swallow. Please, swallow,” Jongin said desperately, and then when Kyungsoo kissed even lower, “fuck, hurry.”

Kyungsoo raised himself back up, sucked Jongin in about half way and began to work to his cadence again. Kyungsoo moaned around him, a little more forcefully than he normally would. Louder about it than he’d normally be.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin warned, and that was enough.

Jongin pulsed, shooting hot into his mouth, but instead of swallowing right away, Kyungsoo kept what he could there, let his mouth fill as Jongin tensed and moaned rhythmically. His body shuddered a couple times mightily, and then he sank back into the couch, hands falling uselessly from Kyungsoo’s hair to his sides.

“Fuck me. That was good. Sorry for going all fire-hose there,” Jongin said. “But, if you couldn’t tell, I really enjoyed that.”

Kyungsoo said nothing, just raised himself up off his knees slowly and straddled Jongin, testing the seams of his dress pants. Then, he opened his mouth to show Jongin.

“Holy fuck, you’re hot,” Jongin said, dipping a finger into Kyungsoo’s mouth, swirling it around before running it along Kyungsoo’s tongue.

Kyungsoo moaned, and then Jongin tugged him into an open-mouthed kiss. Kyungsoo fought back his surprise as their tongues tangled together, Jongin’s come passing between them before most was swallowed. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure who got more, and that thought was so impossibly hot.

“You’re a kinky fuck,” Jongin said pleasantly, rubbing a thumb along Kyungsoo’s bottom lip.

“I believe I could say the same to you,” Kyungsoo replied.

“Well, I couldn’t just like, sit there and watch you be the sexiest fuck in the world,” Jongin said, running hands up and down Kyungsoo’s back. “I had to one up you.”

“That you did,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ve been thoroughly one-upped.”

He took the opportunity to remind Jongin of his own arousal, twisting his hips and pushing himself against Jongin’s stomach while keeping himself raised off Jongin’s lap. Jongin gripped Kyungsoo by the hips, though, pulled him down flush to his own lap. Kyungsoo huffed a breath, grinded against him slowly. Jongin trembled, a weak noise escaping him.  

“You ready to go again?” Kyungsoo asked, kissing Jongin. “You don’t need a minute?”

“Who needs refractory periods?” Jongin smiled weakly.

“Don’t say refractory periods,” Kyungsoo instructed, standing up and off Jongin’s lap.

Jongin laughed, stood up on wobbly legs, and pulled Kyungsoo by the hand to his bedroom.

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo crooked his finger tellingly.

“You do not need to milk my fucking prostate. Look, I’m plenty hard,” Jongin said, gesturing to his erection. “Just prepping. No funny business.”

“I’m pretty sure I said I would make you come three times,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m a man of my word.”

“I thought that was, ah--,” Jongin gasped, arching his back. “I thought that was only if I was good.”

“You don’t think you’ve been good?” Kyungsoo said, pushing his finger in deeper to tease a circle at Jongin’s prostate.

“Fuck,” Jongin moaned. “Stop, I can’t think when you do that.”

“Then stop thinking,” Kyungsoo said, working his other hand to pull at Jongin’s cock.

“Please,” Jongin whined. “I just want your dick in me.”

Jongin pulled his knees closer to his chest and exposed himself even more. Kyungsoo rewarded him, a couple long strokes to Jongin’s cock as Kyungsoo ducked his head to kiss the soft skin behind Jongin’s balls.

“Shit,” Jongin said.

“Tell me what feels best. Tell me how you like it,” Kyungsoo whispered against the skin. “Fast or slow? Circles? Stroking?”

“I really like it when a dick is up there, to be honest with you,” Jongin said. “But you seem determined.”

“Call me Misty,” Kyungsoo smiled.

Jongin pushed his heels into the bed and pushed himself up on his elbows to glare at Kyungsoo, so Kyungsoo took the opportunity to lick around where his finger was slipped inside Jongin.

“Fuck, stop distracting me, I was gonna call you a fuckin’ nerd,” Jongin said.

“You can still call me a nerd if you want,” Kyungsoo said, refocusing as he played with Jongin’s cock while working the tip of his finger in gentle circles.

“I’d rather call you daddy,” Jongin said.

“I’ll gag you if necessary,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin flopped flat on his back again, arched his back and moaned loud.

“Tie me up too, daddy,” Jongin said, crossing his wrists above his head.

Kyungsoo ignored him, but couldn’t ignore how gorgeous he looked like that, warm skin all spread out and submitting to Kyungsoo. It tapped into a base desire that Kyungsoo had, the need to fill and keep filling.

Instead of answering, Kyungsoo simply went back to his gentle ministrations, delighting in the way Jongin’s mouth fell open and he kept breathing in, and in, and in. He wanted to see the way Jongin’s body shook, the way he’d quake at a particularly attentive motion. That’s what Kyungsoo focused on. He narrowed in on Jongin’s weak spots, and then used them.

“Please,” Jongin said after not very long at all. “Another, please.”

“I think you can come with just one,” Kyungsoo said, pulling his finger out and twisting it back in.

“Can and want are very different, Soo,” Jongin moaned. “I want more.”

“You wanna come?” Kyungsoo asked, ignoring him and pressing kisses to Jongin’s inner thighs.

“Yes, please,” Jongin begged.

“You want me to make you come on my fingers?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yes, god, please,” Jongin replied, an arch in his back.

Kyungsoo slipped a second finger inside him, an easy glide. Like Kyungsoo was meant to be there.

“Shit,” Jongin said.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, equal parts nonsensical and reverent.

Kyungsoo spent a while simply watching Jongin moan, indulgent in his pleasure. Taking and taking and taking. He fucked Jongin with two fingers until the lube was leaking out of him with every out stroke.

Kyungsoo crooked both of his fingers then, suddenly desperate to see Jongin come again. He focused on Jongin’s prostate then, no longer teasing. He stroked inside him, gentle but coaxing.

“Touch me,” Jongin said. “Please. I’m close.”

“No,” Kyungsoo said.

“Come on,” Jongin begged, high in his throat. “I need it.”

“Come without it,” Kyungsoo said. “You can.”

“I can’t,” Jongin said.

“You never have?” Kyungsoo asked.

“No,” Jongin said. “I don’t think I can. I can’t.”

“I beg to differ,” Kyungsoo said.  

He worked with renewed purpose, a clear goal in sight. A man on a mission. He was going to tear Jongin apart, bit by bit, and put him back together again.

Jongin’s body was strung like a bow, ready to snap. Kyungsoo knew he was almost there. Kyungsoo’s wrist was starting to ache, but he pushed through it just to hear the way Jongin’s groans broke like waves on the shore.

“Soo,” he whined. “Soo, please. I can’t.”

“Come on, Nini,” Kyungsoo said. “Come on.”

“Please,” he begged.

Kyungsoo kissed him hard on the mouth, bit at his lip. He needed Jongin to come this way. He wanted the last to be the most powerful, the most electric. Jongin’s legs started to squeeze together tight, his body rocking, and Kyungsoo fought to wrench them back apart. His lower body was shaking, tightening once, twice, three times.  

“Soo, I’m--,” he broke. “I’m..”

“Come on, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said. “Come.”

Jongin’s eyes squeezed shut tight, and his back arched high. Kyungsoo watched in awe as Jongin striped his stomach, moaning Kyungsoo’s name loudly as he rode Kyungsoo’s hand.

Kyungsoo watched as Jongin’s chest started rising and falling slowly again, as his body relaxed into the comforter, and a smile settled over his face. Kyungsoo laid down beside him, an arm thrown over him. Their legs tangled together, and a comfortable silence fell over them like a sheet.

Kyungsoo kissed at Jongin’s neck, distracting him as he slid his fingers out.

“Fuck,” Jongin said. “Warn a girl.”

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo said, kissing his neck again.

“Also, I don’t wanna hear it,” Jongin said, teeth chewing at his lip even though he kept grinning, “so don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know.”

Kyungsoo caught on fast.

“If you already know I’m gonna say it, then I don’t need to,” Kyungsoo said.

“God, just do it,” Jongin said, slapping Kyungsoo’s chest. “At this point, I’d rather you said it, so we can all move on.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna say it anymore,” Kyungsoo said.

“Fuck you, I know you do,” Jongin smiled.

“Fine. But it’s well within my inalienable rights, so I don’t feel bad about it: I told you so,” Kyungsoo said smugly.

“I wish I was dead,” Jongin said to the ceiling, still smiling like an idiot. “Clean me up, fucker.”

Kyungsoo lowered himself on the bed, facing Jongin’s toned, flexing stomach. He ran curious fingers through the mess he’d left there, definitely less than the first orgasm. He dragged what he could onto two fingers, lifting them messily to his mouth.

“Is this a kink?” Jongin asked. “Because this is eye-opening for me.”

Kyungsoo fucked his mouth with his own fingers for show, delighting in the way Jongin shivered under him.

“Soo,” Jongin wiggled. “You are going to kill me.”

Kyungsoo lowered his head to kiss at Jongin’s abdomen, licking him clean. Satisfied with his work, he left quick pecks in a curving line up Jongin’s body, finishing with a chaste kiss at his lips.

They laid there for several minutes more, and Kyungsoo felt absolutely content to just feel Jongin rise and fall with his breath. He was harder than he’d ever been in his entire life, but seeing Jongin come and feeling him relax into the bed took the edge off a little.

But then Jongin buried himself in Kyungsoo’s embrace, curling himself in on Kyungsoo before wrapping a confident hand around Kyungsoo’s erection.

“Do not write checks your asshole can’t cash,” Kyungsoo warned.

Jongin ignored him, working his hand over Kyungsoo’s dick as his lips moved along the skin of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“My asshole can absolutely cash this particular check. My asshole has a great line of credit. The interest rate? Incredible.”

Kyungsoo thrust up into Jongin’s hand, and for once, he was totally unconcerned with how it might look desperate or needy. Something about Jongin made things less complicated.

“I think the metaphor’s been lost,” Kyungsoo gasped.

“I’ll show you a metaphor,” Jongin said while he wore his brightest smile and nothing else.

Kyungsoo couldn’t focus, couldn’t think of anything clever to keep the banter going, so he didn’t say anything at all. Jongin took the reins from him and seemed comfortable hovering over him, his lips against Kyungsoo’s while his hand slid over Kyungsoo’s length.

“I’m getting impatient,” Jongin said, slowing his hand. “Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo didn’t reply, just tilted his hips up to fuck through Jongin’s grip.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said.

He stilled his hand completely, fist wrapped around the head of Kyungsoo’s dick, and waited for a response that wouldn’t come. Jongin didn’t wait long, though. He threw himself over Kyungsoo, kissed him hard. By the time he broke away, Kyungsoo saw the condom in his hand.

“You sure we need this?” Jongin asked. “You know we’re both clean.”

“Humor me,” Kyungsoo said.

“I feel like all I do is humor you,” Jongin said.

Jongin tore the foil open with his teeth, his right hand still holding Kyungsoo. He rolled the condom on deftly.

“You’re good at that,” Kyungsoo said, eyes glued to where Jongin was touching him.

“Should I put it on my resume?” Jongin smirked. “Where’d you put the lube?”

“Jongin…,” Kyungsoo said. “There’s no rush.”

Jongin rustled the sheets next to them, hands nearly frantic as he searched, before emerging victorious with the lube in his hand.

“Gotcha, fucker,” he addressed the lubricant.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo said again. “We can wait a minute or two if you need.”

“No waiting necessary,” Jongin said.

He stroked a newly wet hand over Kyungsoo, and fuck, even through the condom, it was heavenly.

“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo breathed.

He got his answer in the form of the graceful line of Jongin’s leg settled over his body, no signs of weakness. Perhaps Kyungsoo wasn’t ruining Jongin as much as he thought.

“Shit,” Kyungsoo said.

All the warm skin pressed into him shocked the air out of him, and he reached up to run his hands along Jongin’s body. Jongin leaned into the touch before rubbing back against Kyungsoo’s dick, working himself to a beat as he grinded into Kyungsoo.

“You’re not hard yet,” Kyungsoo gasped, the feeling of his dick against Jongin’s hole almost overwhelming.

“I’ll get there,” Jongin promised.

As Jongin sank down on him, Kyungsoo felt everything punched out of his chest. Jongin was a work of art. The long, hard lines of him, the gentle curves of him. Every part of him was stunning, every part of him was gorgeous. For a minute, Kyungsoo felt victorious. Like he’d won the most important thing in the world.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kyungsoo said, unable to stop himself.

He ran flat palms along Jongin’s obliques, feeling the muscle bunch then relax under his touch. Jongin leaned down, a smile on his face. Eyes wet.

“I don’t wanna be sentimental here,” Jongin said, his mouth against Kyungsoo’s, “but you’re making me kinda sentimental.”

“Nothing more romantic than a cock up your ass,” Kyungsoo smiled against Jongin’s lips.

“You absolute jerk,” Jongin said, pouting and slapping a hand at Kyungsoo’s chest. “I’ll have you know that this is the most romantic moment of my life.”

“Oh god, don’t cry,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ll go soft.”

“Fuck you!” Jongin laughed.

“You’re supposed to be doing that,” Kyungsoo said, surging up to peck Jongin on the cheek quickly.

Jongin clenched around him, hot, wet, and so, so tight, and Kyungsoo couldn’t control his body. His hips raised on their own accord, a moan rattling its way out of him.

“Idiot,” Jongin said affectionately, leaning down again to kiss Kyungsoo fully.

Jongin kissed deeply, lush and rich like he was taking his time to take Kyungsoo apart. In truth, he was. Kyungsoo was never crazy about the position unless he was bottoming, preferred to be in control no matter what he was doing, but Jongin demanded him be present. Kyungsoo felt himself slipping into the roll of his hips, the ups and downs. The twist of his tongue. Round and round. The sound of their skin was a siren’s song, and Kyungsoo felt himself falling.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo cursed, unable to bite it back. “Fuck.”

“That’s it,” Jongin said, “that’s it, baby.”

Kyungsoo felt something deep within himself need to reclaim control, to flip Jongin onto his back, spread his legs wide, and fuck him into the mattress until he was writhing and breathless. Kyungsoo bit his lip and held the instinct back as he let Jongin use him and tear him apart, stitch by stitch.

“Come on,” Jongin said, “give it to me.”

Jongin rolled his hips, and Kyungsoo wondered not for the first time how people could watch him dance and not think of this, of his body reeling with pleasure, sweat dripping off of him.

Kyungsoo dug his hands into the comforter, fighting back the urge to grab Jongin and put him on his side, to hold Jongin’s leg up and drill into him until he cried. It would make such a pretty picture, Kyungsoo thought: Jongin curled in on himself, whimpering as he stroked himself.

“Stop,” Jongin said.

He ran his hands along Kyungsoo’s cheek, running light fingers over where Kyungsoo’s brow was tensed.

“Stop what,” Kyungsoo said.

“Don’t get all tense,” Jongin said. “Just enjoy it.”

“I am very much enjoying it,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m trying not to come too soon.”

Jongin threw his head back and laughed, treating Kyungsoo to the long line of him. Muscles from his throat to his abdomen.

“Am I torturing you?” Jongin asked, clenching and unclenching quickly.  

“Yes,” Kyungsoo hissed through his teeth.

“Good,” Jongin said. “Now you know how it feels.”

Kyungsoo gasped under Jongin and willed himself to make it last.

“I’ve been trying to get you here for a long time, Do Kyungsoo,” Jongin said. “I’m not about to let you go now.”

Kyungsoo heard himself make a noise he couldn’t remember ever having made before, and Jongin arched his back in response.

“Fuck, you sound so good,” Jongin said, and Kyungsoo groaned deep in his throat. “I love the way you moan.”

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it, Jongin wrapped around him like a vice, rolling his body. He felt his stamina depleting rapidly, his hold being ripped from him like a weed from soil.

Jongin fucked him like he was putting on a show, and Kyungsoo couldn’t look away, not even for a second. He was mesmerizing, he was perfect. Kyungsoo thought...fuck, he didn’t wanna be cliche, but for one second, the words I love him rattled through him.

He drove the thought out of his head by following through on what he wanted to do minutes ago: Kyungsoo flipped Jongin onto his back quickly and relished in the sound of the breath being punched out of him.

“Shit,” Jongin said, “you’re stronger than you look.”

He ran his hands down Kyungsoo’s biceps, flexed as he held himself over Jongin. Kyungsoo fought against the shudder that threatened its way down his back.

“Fuck me,” Jongin said. “Make me come.”

He was greedy, and Kyungsoo wanted to give him exactly what he asked for.

Kyungsoo pushed into Jongin cleanly, in one smooth cant of his hips, and Jongin receded into the bed, his body making room for Kyungsoo to take space for his own. Even though he had been thorough with preparation, even though Jongin’s rim was loose and wet and looked thoroughly fucked, and even though Jongin asked so sweetly, Kyungsoo wanted to take his time.

He lowered himself onto his forearms so that their chests pressed together. Jongin gathered Kyungsoo close to him, wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo and made Kyungsoo cling to him.

He worked his arms around Jongin and let him take his weight fully. Jongin responded by wrapping his legs around Kyungsoo, locking his ankles. It was sinfully good, so good that Kyungsoo couldn’t focus on the feeling for long.

“Soo,” Jongin said, barely able to keep the whine out of it. “Please.”

With Jongin enveloping him, Kyungsoo couldn’t do much more than grind into Jongin’s body, a dirty twist of his hips as he tilted up and in.

Jongin’s voice, normally so deep and warm, ratcheted higher and higher as Kyungsoo moved. The groans rising from his stomach and bubbling out came farther and farther apart, being replaced by the breathy whimpers that seemed to leak out of him. Kyungsoo was content. He loved the way it felt, like Jongin’s body was trying to swallow him. The air was filled with him. Kyungsoo tried to get closer, impossibly so.

Kyungsoo drew his body back, pulled out far enough that just the head of his cock was still inside Jongin. The movement forced Jongin to let his legs fall from around Kyungsoo’s body, spread to accommodate. He wanted nothing more than to stay lying with Jongin forever, his and Jongin’s bodies sealed with sweat, but he needed a third. And he’d get it.

He steeled himself before thrusting himself back into Jongin, a quick punch of his hips, in and out. Enough to make a wet noise echo in the room.

“Fuck,” Jongin moaned, loud and shameless. “Again.”

Kyungsoo obliged him, another lightning quick thrust that sounded into the room.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said as he scratched dull fingernails down Kyungsoo’s back. Kyungsoo shuddered. “Please, baby. I need it.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said before beginning to fuck Jongin in earnest.

Kyungsoo sunk into an even tempo, forcing himself to ignore most of what was happening. The slick warmth of Jongin, all encompassing and total. The cries slipping from Jongin’s lips with every shove in, the sound that their bodies made as they collided. The smell of sweat. It all threatened his restraint. Kyungsoo wanted to fuck Jongin through his third orgasm, a hand wrapped around his dick, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Feel good, baby?” Kyungsoo asked, praying that goading Jongin into conversation would tease him closer.

“Yeah,” Jongin said, “yeah, fuck. Soo, fuck.”

He arched up off the bed and moaned loud, throaty and high.

“Like that?” Kyungsoo asked after the angle changed, directing his hips up.

“Yeah, fuck,” Jongin said, “just like that.”

His body was still bowed, and Kyungsoo knew it couldn’t be comfortable to hold himself at that slant. Kyungsoo got up on his knees between Jongin’s legs, pulled Jongin half into his lap by the hips.

“Shit,” Jongin said, “shit, you feel big.”

“Want me to flip you over?” Kyungsoo asked. “I’d feel even bigger like that.”

“No, no,” Jongin said, “like this. So I can see you.”

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Kyungsoo said as he fucked him in the new position, an even easier slide than before. “You’re so perfect.”

“Stop,” Jongin said, a hand gripped hard around the base of his dick.

“You are,” Kyungsoo said. “Fuck, look at you. You were made to take my dick.”

Jongin moaned as he threw an arm over his face to cover his eyes, and Kyungsoo watched his body move with every thrust.

“Next time,” Kyungsoo said, grabbing Jongin’s slippery hand in his, “you’ll fuck me. I can’t wait to feel you slide into me.”

He held Jongin’s hand in his, directing him to stroke his cock with a ruthless efficiency for several moments.

“Fuck,” Jongin said, his hips canting up to meet Kyungsoo’s. “Please.”

“You can fuck me without a condom,” Kyungsoo said, tightening his grip on Jongin, digging his fingernails in lightly. “I wanna feel you come inside me. I wanna take every part of you.”

He batted Jongin’s hand away and took Jongin’s dick in his hold as he continued to move in Jongin.

“Shit,” Jongin said. “Kyungsoo.”

“You want that, baby?” Kyungsoo said, losing his breath. “You wanna fill me up?”

“Y-yes,” Jongin said. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Next time,” Kyungsoo promised. “Next time, I’ll get on my hands and knees for you. Spread myself nice and wide for you. Beg for your dick. I’ll fuck myself back on your cock until you come deep inside me.”

Jongin squeezed his eyes shut, and Kyungsoo tightened his grip on Jongin’s hips as Jongin tightened all around him.

“Are you gonna come?” Kyungsoo asked as he tried to keep his pace steady.

“Yeah,” Jongin said. “Please. Make me come. Make me come, Soo.”

“Give it to me,” Kyungsoo said, quickening his hips just by a fraction and coupling it with longer, faster strokes to Jongin’s dick. “Come on. Come for me, baby.”

It was beautiful, the way Jongin came that third time. He trembled everywhere, muscles pulled tight as he shouted Kyungsoo’s name. Kyungsoo thundered forward, fucking him through the orgasm that seemed to stretch on and on. Jongin pulsed around him, torturously hot and tempting. Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, steeled himself, and pushed through it, until Jongin relaxed back, unspooling onto the mattress. At that, Kyungsoo straightened out his legs before sheathing himself fully, letting Jongin’s body keep him balanced right on the edge.

“You outdid yourself that time,” Jongin smiled. “That was, indeed, the best I ever had.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kyungsoo said. He kissed Jongin and licked along his lips before kissing his cheek, his jaw, the sensitive place right below his ear.

Jongin pulled Kyungsoo’s chest to his and hugged him close, getting his stomach wet with come. Kyungsoo was still hard, painfully so. So close to coming but seeming so far.

“This is your punishment,” Jongin whispered. “For trying to make me wait.”

He wriggled underneath Kyungsoo, laughing and tightening around him as Kyungsoo groaned.

“I don’t deserve punishment,” Kyungsoo said. “You’ve come three times. Thrice.”

“Don’t say thrice while you’re dick is in me,” Jongin said.

“You want me to pull out?” Kyungsoo asked, moving to extract himself from Jongin’s grasp a little. Jongin crushed him back in his arms, kept Kyungsoo’s body tightly against his own.

“Fuck you,” Jongin smiled. “This is why you shouldn’t have worn a condom. You could be coming inside me right now.”

“Coming anywhere on you is sounding pretty good right about now,” Kyungsoo said. He tried desperately to keep his hips still.

“So you can’t fuck forever?” Jongin teased. “The great Kyungsoo orgasms just like the rest of us mere mortals?”

“Listen, if you wanna make fun of my stamina, then you don’t get to reap the benefits anymore,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin laughed again, loud and bright like he was floating an inch above the bed. It sent shock-waves through Kyungsoo, spiraling out through his body.

“Come on, big boy,” Jongin said, reaching a long arm down to pat Kyungsoo on the ass. “Show me what you got.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a minute?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern for my sensitivity but,” Jongin said before stage whispering, “I like getting fucked a little after.”

Kyungsoo shivered again. He hoisted himself back up, got back on his knees between Jongin’s spread legs. He didn’t bother with holding Jongin up in his lap; he wasn’t trying to target where Jongin was now bound to be most oversensitive.

“You look so fucking good,” Jongin said, taking Kyungsoo’s hands in his as Kyungsoo began to thrust again, this time seeking his own pleasure. “Jesus Christ, how did we wait this long?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo said truthfully. “I used to jerk off thinking about you.”

“You did?” Jongin asked.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said. He had no idea where the sudden and brutal honesty was coming from, but he was passenger to it. “After we first met, I tried to pretend I wasn’t thinking about you. I tried to think about other stuff. Just get off to porn. But I thought about you. A lot.”

“I thought about you too,” Jongin said, pushing his body lower on the bed as he tried to meet Kyungsoo’s hips. “You were so fucking hot, I couldn’t help it. I imagined you doing so much filthy shit to me. I wanted you so fucking bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jongin said. “Wanna hear what I thought about?”

Kyungsoo nodded dumbly, feeling himself about to plateau and needing a push. Jongin’s voice, his words, would be that push.

“I thought about you taking me from behind,” Jongin said. “Pushing a finger in next to your cock. Stretching me out so much. I thought about you grabbing me by the hair. I thought about you tying me up. Teasing me. Torturing me before you let me come.”

“Jesus,” Kyungsoo said, fucking Jongin a little quicker.

“I thought about eating you out until you begged me to fuck you,” Jongin said. “I thought about sucking you off, letting you come down my throat.”

“Please,” Kyungsoo said.

“More?” Jongin asked. “I thought about you spanking me. I thought about you fingering me dry. Until I was screaming. Until I cried.”

“Where do you want it?,” Kyungsoo asked breathlessly.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

“Your stomach,” Kyungsoo confessed.

“Pull out,” Jongin ordered. “Come on.”

Kyungsoo did, withdrew fast enough that Jongin moaned brokenly, and then he stripped off the condom. Jongin took it in his hand and then threw it across the room. He wiped a hand down both of their stomachs, slicked his way down Kyungsoo’s dick with his cooling come.

“Touch yourself,” Jongin said. “Come all over me.”

Kyungsoo stroked himself, unable to hold himself back any longer. And why should he? Jongin was pleasured and pliant beneath him, the prepossessing manifestation of all his late night dreaming. Telling Kyungsoo to mark him. To make a mess of him.

Kyungsoo locked eyes with Jongin and squeezed his hand tight, bidding him forward over the edge.

He threw his head back as the world whited out around him. Blooms of heat racked their way through his body, the pleasure that he’d been denying himself taking him over. Complete. Seamless. Forever. Kyungsoo shook along with the tremors of it, shooting onto Jongin’s abs as he moaned Jongin’s name.

As his breath steadied, he felt the weariness seep into him like wine through cloth. He toppled inelegantly to Jongin’s side, bone-tired and happy.

“How was that?” Jongin asked.

He tangled a hand in Kyungsoo’s hair, and Kyungsoo leaned into it, mouthing at Jongin’s shoulder absently.

“Good,” Kyungsoo said. “Really good.”

“Top ten?” Jongin needled.

“Top three,” Kyungsoo clarified.

Jongin preened at that, humming happily.

Kyungsoo looked at Jongin’s stomach, saw the pool of come there and ran a finger through it, trailing it up the cut between the muscles. He ran wet fingers all over Jongin’s middle. Along his obliques. Around his nipples. Under his pectorals. Along the gentle veins that pulsed as Kyungsoo’s hands danced along his body.  

“You really like that, huh?” Jongin asked as he rubbed at Kyungsoo’s scalp.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, feeling vaguely defensive for a moment. “I dunno.”

“It’s nice,” Jongin said, and Kyungsoo lightened at it. “You don’t have to feel weird about it. It’s not weird. Even if it was, I like the weird shit.”

“What about feet stuff,” Kyungsoo joked, still toying with the come on Jongin’s stomach. Moving it. Painting him with it.

“I could get into some feet stuff,” Jongin said seriously. “Like washing, maybe. Worship shit. That could be interesting.”

“You wanna worship my feet?” Kyungsoo smiled.

“I said I could get into it,” Jongin said. “With the proper preparation. The proper setting. And the proper partner.”

“Me,” Kyungsoo said.

“You,” Jongin said.

They left no room for further discussion on the matter. And Kyungsoo wasn’t prepared for this. He prepared for everything, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for falling so fast.

He scooped what was left of his come onto two fingers, spread it across Jongin’s forehead as Jongin sputtered beneath him.

“You fucker!” Jongin said. “You just Lion King’d me!”

“I don’t think it was semen in the Lion King,” Kyungsoo laughed.

“I can’t believe this,” Jongin said, flopping against the bed. “This is what I deal with? After giving you my precious ass?”

“Hey, come is cheaper than serum,” Kyungsoo smiled.

“That is true,” Jongin said thoughtfully. “Ah well….when in Rome.”

He rubbed the come into his skin, let it shine there like a face mask and Kyungsoo was entirely flooded by the stupidity of realizing in that moment, his ejaculate fresh on Jongin’s face, that he was in love.

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo couldn’t help by stare at the shower, at how pristine it all looked. The whole apartment looked perfect and clean, and for some reason, Kyungsoo didn’t think Jongin was the neat freak type. Not like him.

“What are you thinking about?” Jongin asked, sliding his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair and scratching his fingernails along Kyungsoo’s scalp.

“How clean your bathroom is,” Kyungsoo smiled.

“My dick is three centimeters away from your mouth, and you’re looking at my grout?” Jongin asked.

“What can I say? Caulk gets me hot,” Kyungsoo said.  

“I’m gonna choke you,” Jongin said, guiding his dick into Kyungsoo’s mouth.

Kyungsoo couldn’t answer, not with his mouth full. That thought alone made his stomach go hot.

He let his mouth go wet, a loose type of suction that wasn’t enough. Jongin gasped, thrusted minutely into the slick heat. He traced at Kyungsoo’s mouth, the seam between Kyungsoo’s lips and his dick.

“Your mouth, christ,” Jongin said.

They had kissed for a long time before finally falling asleep, not quite ready to say goodbye even if just for a few hours, so his lips probably looked as red and used as it felt. Kyungsoo responded by sucking hard, making Jongin tighten his hands in Kyungsoo’s hair.

Kyungsoo tilted his head back, looked up at Jongin with watery eyes when Jongin pushed his hips forward.

“Fuck, Soo,” Jongin moaned. “Stop.”

Kyungsoo pulled off, worked a loose fist around Jongin’s dick to replace his mouth.

“Stop what?” Kyungsoo asked, liking the way he sounded breathless.

“Looking at me,” he said, covering Kyungsoo’s eyes with his hand. “Fuck, I can’t handle it. I’m gonna come so fast.”

Kyungsoo lets Jongin keep his hand there, Jongin’s other hand wrapped around the back of Kyungsoo’s head. If the night before was Kyungsoo in control, on his knees and sucking Jongin’s cock at his leisure, this was Jongin fucking Kyungsoo’s mouth. Guiding Kyungsoo’s mouth over his dick, feeding him. A steady rhythm. In and out. In and out.

Not being able to see anything, being completely used as the water fell around them, was arousing enough that Kyungsoo snuck a hand between his legs, pulled absently at his cock as Jongin pushed his hips in far enough to make Kyungsoo gag.

“Shit, sorry,” Jongin said, pulling Kyungsoo off quickly but not uncovering Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Got a little excited there.”

Kyungsoo felt his mouth water excessively, felt it drip from his lips obscenely.

“Jesus Christ, I could fuckin’ jizz just looking at you,” Jongin said.

“Don’t say jizz,” Kyungsoo said, his voice completely fucked now.

“Fine, let me think of something different,” Jongin laughed, finally taking his hand back from Kyungsoo’s eyes and working it around his cock. “Fuck, Soo, I could fuckin’ complete just looking at you.”

Kyungsoo laughed brokenly while Jongin made his trashiest noises.

“Ah, I’m gonna fucking complete,” he said, jerking himself off exaggeratedly.

“I swear to god, this is the worst shit in the world,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m gonna leave.”

“Yeah right. You’re getting off on it,” Jongin said, moving a foot to nudge at where Kyungsoo was touching himself.

“That’s because I have low standards,” Kyungsoo replied, a little more breathless than he intended.

“Your dick is hard for my clean bathroom,” Jongin said. “You have excessively high standards.”

“You got me,” Kyungsoo said, watching Jongin work himself hungrily. “Now come on me.”

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo hadn’t intended to spend the entire weekend at Jongin’s, only packed enough in his bag for his drive home the morning after: his toothbrush, deodorant, a pair of sweatpants, underwear, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers.

They spent the whole of Saturday naked, so on Sunday when Kyungsoo threw on clothes, he felt vaguely depressed. He had to be home at a normal hour, as he’d spent a significant chunk of his available comp time on the Jamboree which meant that he needed to get up on Monday and go to work. He sighed, flopped back down on the bed.

“Quit it,” Jongin said, ruffling a towel over his hair.

“I’m not doing anything,” Kyungsoo said to the ceiling.

“You are sighing,” Jongin said, “which will make me sigh by extension. And I’m intent on enjoying a very nice Sunday.”  

Suddenly, Kyungsoo’s face was covered by a wet towel.

“With or without you,” Jongin said.

“Fucker,” Kyungsoo said, balling up the towel in his hands and chucking it back at Jongin.

“Come on,” Jongin said. “I’ll let you make me breakfast.”

Kyungsoo rummaged around Jongin’s kitchen gathering ingredients while Jongin sat on his counter, a cup of coffee in his hands.

“You look so hot like that,” Jongin said.

“Like what?” Kyungsoo said as he cracked another egg into the bowl.

“All...focused and shit,” Jongin said. “Competent. Fuck, I wanna swallow your dick again.”

“I’m pretty sure I have no come left to give you,” Kyungsoo said. “So you’ll just have to settle for french toast.”

“Mm,” Jongin said, crossing his legs and squirming. “I love that you can cook.”

“French toast barely counts as cooking,” Kyungsoo said.

“The last time I had french toast was when I bought french toast crunch,” Jongin said. “Do not be humble.”

“You’re impossibly cute,” Kyungsoo said before taking the coffee from Jongin and exchanging it for the bowl with the eggs. “Whisk.”

“Soo. Sunday’s my day off,” Jongin said.

“Not in my kitchen,” Kyungsoo said.

“It’s my kitchen,” Jongin said. “You’re just borrowing it.”

“My metaphorical kitchen,” Kyungsoo said. “The liminal space of my kitchen.”

“I hate you,” Jongin said, beginning to whisk the eggs frantically. “I stink at this.”

“You’re doing fine,” Kyungsoo said, slicing bread. “And won’t it be so nice to feel like you helped? It’ll make it taste that much better.”

“No, it won’t,” Jongin said. “Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Kyungsoo smiled.

Not before long, he stole the bowl from Jongin and dipped the slices of bread in. He gingerly placed a couple pieces in the frying pan. They sizzled immediately and soon, the entire kitchen was filled with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Kyungsoo then felt arms wrap around his waist, a chin on his shoulder.

“Now I’m glad I cleaned the kitchen,” Jongin said close to his ear.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know why it hits him hard, the idea of Jongin cleaning his apartment spotless, top to bottom, just because he knew Kyungsoo would be staying. He held back a moan as Jongin began to kiss along his throat.

“You get off on being taller?” Kyungsoo asked, baring his neck.

“A little,” Jongin said.

“Duly noted,” Kyungsoo smiled. He turned the fire down slightly. He didn’t want the butter to burn.

“You get off on being shorter?” Jongin asked.

“A little,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin responded by tightening his arms around Kyungsoo’s middle and lifting him easily.

“What the fuck,” Kyungsoo said, smacking Jongin on the head. “Nini! Open flame. Open flame!”

“Sorry,” Jongin said, laughing as he placed him back onto the tile. “You should be heavier than you are. You’re all muscle.”

“Maybe you’re just stronger than you think you are,” Kyungsoo said as he prodded at the toast with a spatula.

“Don’t inflate my ego even more,” Jongin said. “I’ll try fucking you up against a wall.”

Kyungsoo made a curious little noise as he flipped the toast and thought about the possibility: Jongin’s sweats pooled around his feet, too preoccupied to strip completely. Kyungsoo’s legs around Jongin’s waist, ankles tied. Jongin fucking him with such force that his head smacked back against the wall with each thrust, pictures hung there shaking. How loud they’d get. How good it would feel to have Jongin so deep in him.

“Don’t look like that,” Jongin said. “I will fuck you up against a wall.”

Kyungsoo grinned, something lascivious and just for Jongin.  

“Come on, let’s eat,” Jongin said. “Before I try to stick it in you.”

The day passed too quickly, Kyungsoo found. Even when they weren’t screwing each other on every flat service, leaving the apartment far less immaculate than they found it, they still managed to waste time like it was their job. It made sense, Kyungsoo reasoned to himself. Of course there would be no lulls in conversation. There was still so much to learn about each other.

Jongin let his hair splay across Kyungsoo’s lap as they started a rewatch of Eden of the East, and they talked their way through seven episodes, only pausing to reposition themselves on the couch as they huddled close together.

“I should go,” Kyungsoo said afterwards as he laced up his sneakers. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s not even four,” Jongin said. “The sun hasn’t set yet. I haven’t made you dinner yet.”

“If I stay any later, I’ll never leave,” Kyungsoo said, kissing Jongin’s forehead.

“Would that be so terrible?” Jongin whined. “Stay forever.”

“Should I quit my job?” Kyungsoo teased.

“Yes,” Jongin said happily. “You can stay with me. I’ll pay you to keep my bed warm. Keep my cock warm.”

“You can’t afford me,” Kyungsoo said.

“True,” Jongin said as he nuzzled into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. “At least let me pack you snacks for the drive.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin ran back to the kitchen and emerged moments later with a grocery bag full of junk food.

“This is entirely too much,” Kyungsoo said. “It’s not cross-country.”

“I appreciate you coming,” Jongin said, pushing the bag into Kyungsoo’s hands. “In more ways than one.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, and Kyungsoo rolled his eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” Jongin said. “I can see right through you, Kyungsoo. Now get out of here before I never let you go.”

Kyungsoo threw his arms around Jongin with more intensity than he’d originally planned, kissing him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“See you soon?” Jongin said breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said. “Soon.”

He walks back to the campsite with Junmyeon as the kids run to the cabin for lunch. Junmyeon hasn’t tried to make him talk more about...anything, but that’s something he likes about him. He’s got spidey sense about that kind of thing. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes on the ground, shuffling his feet along the dirt.

“You shouldn’t look that sad,” Junmyeon says. “You guys are gonna win again.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Kyungsoo smiles.

“Seriously, don’t look so miserable,” Junmyeon says. “It makes me worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m capable of managing my emotions incredibly well.”

“Taking one psych class in college and drinking excessively doesn’t make you good at emotions,” Junmyeon says. “It’s not like inventory management.”

“Sure it is,” Kyungsoo says. “And I am also exceptionally good at inventory management, which is no surprise, because I am good at everything. Especially managing my emotions.”

“I swear to God, I will sic Chanyeol on you,” Junmyeon says. “I will get him to talk to you about feelings. I will make him wear a big sweater, and I will tell him you need someone to cuddle with. He will maul you with his big sweater paws.”

“Stop,” Kyungsoo says. “I get it. I’ll cheer up.”

“Speaking of cheering up,” Junmyeon says. “Hey, Jongin.”

Kyungsoo stops walking, so Junmyeon stops too. Jongin crosses to them, and Kyungsoo goes still everywhere.

“Hey, boys,” Kim says cheerfully. “Off to lunch?”

“Observant,” Junmyeon says coolly.

Kyungsoo’s never known Junmyeon to be rude, but he guesses there’s a first time for everything. He smirks at the thought.

“Care for some company?” Kim says, a bright charming smile on his face.

“I think we’re at capacity for today,” Junmyeon says, “but I’m sure you can find someone else to sit with.”

Jongin’s smile falters, and something clicks in Kyungsoo’s heart.

“It’s...fine,” Kyungsoo says, grabbing Junmyeon by the arm. “I’m sure there’s room for one more.”

Junmyeon shoots him a look, less are you kidding me and more are you fucking kidding me , which Kyungsoo dutifully ignores. He appreciates Junmyeon’s effort, but he’s not a teenager. He can handle it himself, and he doesn’t need someone going all Scorned Mother on his behalf.

“Are you sure?” Kim asks.

“It’s no big deal,” Kyungsoo says. “Come on. I think there’s mac and cheese today.”

They walk in relative silence, Junmyeon sending occasional glares towards him and Kim that Kyungsoo dutifully ignores again and Kim doesn’t notice.

They stand in line for food, and even though Kyungsoo is normally fine with silence, the one they share sits heavy on his shoulders for no reason.

“How’d you guys do this morning?” Kyungsoo asks Kim.

He perks up at that, and Kyungsoo looks down.

“Really good!” he says. “Got a canoe race in the bag, which was fun. You guys played each other in kickball?”

“We did,” Kyungsoo confirmed. “Well, we mostly just sat there.”

“Excuse me, one of us was coaching,” Junmyeon clarifies, ice melting off him.

Kyungsoo bites back an overly proud comment, laughing as they move along the line.

“Soo doesn’t really need to coach, does he?” Kim says, smiling at him. “Just kinda lets the kids win. Keeping it simple this year.”

“I guess, yeah,” Kyungsoo says.

Kyungsoo watches as Junmyeon looks between them before smiling.

“I hate you both,” Junmyeon says, before walking back to their table, leaving both of them behind.

“What was that all about?” Kim asks, eyebrow raised.

“He’s a mom,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s fine.”  

“Okay,” Kim asks, worrying at his lip with his teeth. “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” Kyungsoo says, and he’s unable to keep himself from sounding curt.

“It’s just that we--,” Kim starts before trying again.  

“I’d rather not do this,” Kyungsoo bristles. “Can we just eat?”

Kim looks at him for a long while, the both of them just standing awkwardly with their trays at the end of the lunch line. Kyungsoo can’t tell what’s going on his in Kim’s head, but he doesn’t try too hard. Kyungsoo’s heart aches just looking at him, and he averts his eyes to make it stop for a least a minute.

“Yeah, Soo,” Kim says. “Sorry.”

They worked. That was what Kyungsoo realized in the months following their first date. The back and forth wasn’t as exhausting as Kyungsoo had thought it might be. They just worked. Jongin was easy.

They’d been dating for a month when Jongin asked.

“You’re my boyfriend, right?” Jongin asked, his voice so soft in Kyungsoo’s ear.

It hit Kyungsoo hard. He’d thought about it, of course. He thought about everything, eight steps ahead. He always knew this would be a possibility, a probability considering how things had gone. He just hadn’t expected it so soon.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo heard himself reply. “Yeah, of course. As long as--”

“Good,” Jongin cut him off. “You’re my boyfriend. Settled.”

A month after, when Jongin gave him a key to his apartment, Kyungsoo balked at it.

“You shouldn’t have to wait outside when my class runs late,” Jongin said. “It’s getting colder. Now you can make yourself at home.”

Kyungsoo took the key in his hands like something precious and gingerly worked it onto his ring with the rest of his keys.

He thought that maybe it was what he was missing all along. Maybe that was what Baekhyun and Chanyeol always said he needed, not someone to stick his dick in, but someone to balance him out. Someone to drag him out of his own head. Someone to uncomplicate things.

And life got easier, Kyungsoo found. He got his promotion which came with a hefty raise. They celebrated, of course, Jongin coming down for the weekend with beer, pizza, and movies. They didn’t end up watching any of the movies, but there’d be time for that later, Kyungsoo thought.

They talked most every day. Kyungsoo sunk into the relationship the way he fell into Jongin’s bed: wholly, with abandon, and with no intention of leaving.

He liked sending Jongin flowers. It was hard to embarrass him, but flowers seemed to work. Kyungsoo liked the way he’d sputter on the phone, telling him about how all the ladies at the preschool would fawn over the sweet smelling gardenias or the arrangements of daisies and delphinium, larkspur and lilies.

“Don’t most people just do roses?” Jongin asked.

“The girl always convinces me to do something less conventional,” Kyungsoo said, feeling his face heat while remembering the way he told the florist he wanted something special for someone special.

“My unconventional hero,” Jongin swooned.

He set up a shared calendar on Google and occasionally nagged at Jongin to fill it out with his engagements. Jongin wasn’t as studious as Kyungsoo was about it, but still managed to write down most of his shit so that they could easily figure out what weekends worked for them both, so that they could keep their dates straight.

“I have never met someone so anal retentive about scheduling,” Jongin said. “It’s adorable.”

“Don’t say anal retentive,” Kyungsoo said.

“Would you rather I called you anal expulsive?” Jongin said.

“I swear to God, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, but Jongin had erupted into laughter and Kyungsoo found it hard to be anything but happy.

“What’s this, though?” Jongin said. “December 10th. 7pm to 9pm.  You marked it red.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

“Red means date,” Jongin said.

“Very good,” Kyungsoo replied. Jongin was finally paying attention to the color coding. Kyungsoo felt inclined to reward him. He decided to put a reminder in his personal calendar. Jongin liked rimming, he thought as he tapped through. They had a weekend coming up. Saturday. Purple. 10:00 to 10:15. Eating out.

“Are you scheduling sex again?” Jongin asked.  

“No,” Kyungsoo lied.

“Liar,” Jongin said. “You always make the same face.”

Kyungsoo didn’t respond, just wished fiercely that he could reach through his computer screen and touch Jongin.

“This one doesn’t have a label,” Jongin continued. “And you didn’t mention a date on December 10th.”

“You’re free, though,” Kyungsoo said.

“Well, yes, you’d know,” Jongin said.

“So it’s a date, then,” Kyungsoo said. “Wear something nice.”

“Oh no,” Jongin said. “Not a surprise. Not fancy.”

“A fancy surprise,” Kyungsoo confirmed. “No complaining.”

“You always do cute shit,” Jongin whined. “You are the cutest for no reason.”

“Maybe I just wanna ensure that you put out,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yeah, right,” Jongin scoffed. “You know I’m a slut for you.”

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo knew the cold air was stinging him down to the bone, but strangely, he only felt warmth when he saw awareness dawn on Jongin’s face.

“You motherfucker,” Jongin said.

He looked beautiful which was no surprise. Black dress pants, his shiny patent leather dress shoes. Crisp white shirt with a button open at the top and a black blazer over that. The tartan scarf that Kyungsoo had bought for him wrapped around his neck. A long winter coat.

Jongin looked slightly more casual than everyone else attending, people with their noses in the air who were dressed in gowns or suits and ties, but Jongin could always pull off casual and make it look more elegant than it was. There was something about his affect and confidence, or maybe his gorgeous face and windswept hair and charming smile. He always looked like he could be stepping right onto a runway. Or maybe stepping right off of one.  

“I can’t believe you,” Jongin said, eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Early Christmas present,” Kyungsoo said. “Come on, it’s fucking freezing.”

They walked inside, hand in hand. Kyungsoo led him through the crowd, past the people collecting tickets, before directing him towards the concessions.

“Holy shit. This is a dream. You’re gonna let me get drunk and watch the Nutcracker,” Jongin said.  

“As long as you promise not to stare too much at all the...you know, the junk,” Kyungsoo said as he gestured vaguely with a hand.

“Soo, it’s ballet,” Jongin said. “The junk is part of the appeal.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, ordered Jongin a beer, and watched him sip it happily as everyone meandered around them before the doors opened.

“This is a really fuckin’ cool thing you did for me,” Jongin said after a while, beer half empty with hands tight around the plastic cup. “You don’t have to do shit like this, you know.”

“I don’t have to,” Kyungsoo agreed. “I just want to.”

Jongin stared down at remaining foam dissipating at the top of his beer.

“You’re so good to me,” Jongin said like he was sharing a secret. “Sometimes I feel guilty.”

“Why would you feel guilty?” Kyungsoo asked. “Why would you ever feel guilty?”

“I don’t…,” Jongin started, but quickly stopped. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” Kyungsoo said, and he reached out to grab Jongin’s hands in his, around Jongin’s beer. “It’s fine. Tell me what’s up.”

“I don’t wanna ruin this,” Jongin said. “I feel like I’m gonna ruin it.”

“Tonight?” Kyungsoo asked. “Or us?”

“Both,” Jongin said sadly.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo said. “What the fuck, you could never. Where’s this coming from?”

Kyungsoo watched sadly as Jongin’s eyes went wet. He tried desperately to think of what he could say to fix it, but he was so utterly confused.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin said, “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m getting emotional for no reason. I just...I wanna be as good to you as you are to me.”

Kyungsoo took the plastic cup from Jongin’s hands and dragged him into a hug.

“You’re better. You’re so much better,” Kyungsoo said. “You’re so special, Jongin. You make me so happy, just by being you. I’m doing all I can to keep up with you.”

“Shut up,” Jongin sniffled.

“No more beer for you,” Kyungsoo whispered in his ear.

Jongin wiggled happily out of his grasp, grabbing the cup easily.

“I’ll have you know that I can handle my alcohol exceptionally well,” Jongin boasted which Kyungsoo thought sounded pretty adorable, given the tear track that still stained his cheek.

Kyungsoo reached up to brush it away.

“Says the man who drank half a bottle of wine and then passed out in the bathtub,” Kyungsoo laughed.

“Well, that’s because you were holding me. You’re very comfortable,” Jongin said. “And you have a big bathtub for a reason, it’s not like I’m gonna let it go to waste.”

“Thank God I was there,” Kyungsoo huffed. “Otherwise you’d have drowned.”

“What a way to go, though, huh,” Jongin said, and with Jongin’s stunning smile turned on him, Kyungsoo easily forgot the unpleasantness.

The rest of lunch was fine, passed without incident or much conversation besides Junmyeon making enough pleasant chatter for three. Kyungsoo walks back to the campsites, his Joeys and Junmyeon’s together.

“You should make up your mind, you know,” Junmyeon says, arms folded.

“Oh, excuse me, I hadn’t realized I asked your opinion,” Kyungsoo says.

Junmyeon sighs, long and put upon like he’s speaking to a child. Kyungsoo thinks about maybe utilizing his Vulcan death grip, but then thinks better of it. He’s gotta be a good example.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking impossible?” Junmyeon asks.

Kyungsoo immediately freezes in place, and he can practically feel his eyes go wide.

“What did you just say?” Kyungsoo says.  

“What?” Junmyeon says. “What did I say?”

“You said a bad word,” Hwan says, throwing the comment back over his shoulder even though he and the rest of the boys are a good fifteen feet ahead.

Junmyeon looks confused for a moment, and then his hands fly to cover his mouth which had dropped open in horror.

“Oh my god,” Junmyeon says through his fingers. “Oh my god.”

Kyungsoo laughs so hard that he feels like he’s about to throw up, and despite Junmyeon smacking him on the shoulder, his laughter follows him all the way back to the campsite.

“I’m serious, though,” Junmyeon says once they’re stopped in front of campsite A and the kids are messing around on their own. “You gotta make a decision, one way or the other.”

“I really don’t know what you mean,” Kyungsoo says.

“You and Jongin,” Junmyeon says. “You either have to get over it or...not.”

“I’m over it,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m very over it.”

“That’s not how I saw it,” Junmyeon says.

“Oh yeah, and what did you see, Wise and All-Knowing Junmyeon?” Kyungsoo says, hoping that the lightness in his tone will calm this conversation down.

“I saw you guys standing at the end of the lunch line looking at each other like heaven and hell couldn’t tear you apart,” Junmyeon says.

Fuck.

“That is not how it was,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Well, we know how he feels about you,” Junmyeon says. “He wants back in. So, like I said before, you gotta make up your mind.”

“You don’t know what he wants,” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe he just wants to fuck with me.”

Junmyeon scoffs, and Kyungsoo hates when he does that. He resists the urge to smack him.

“He may be a jerk, but he’s not cruel,” Junmyeon says.

“Two hours ago, you were about to castrate him,” Kyungsoo says. “And now you’re caping for him. Be on my side.”

“I’m not caping for anyone. Just telling it like it is,” Junmyeon says as he holds up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “And Soo, you know I’m always on your side.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Kyungsoo says to the dirt.

“Soo,” Junmyeon says, and Kyungsoo looks up again. “Admit to yourself that you still want it. Admit that you’re not over it. It’ll get easier from there.”

“How in the fucking world,” Jongin said, looking around. “This makes no sense.”

“I have very talented friends,” Kyungsoo said. He knew the effect of stepping into Baekhyun’s home for the first time.

“No, you have very stupid friends,” Jongin said. “I know, I’ve met them before.”

“I’ll make sure to tell them that,” Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun had more money than Kyungsoo, but less than Chanyeol. He also had the distinct advantage of knowing how to spend his. Where Chanyeol loved waiting for the Air Jordan 5 Premiums in Bordeaux to drop (“Like a fine wine,” he said, clutching them like a baby in his arms, “these beauties will only get better with age.”), Baekhyun threw parties that left Gatsby in the dust.

Moving into the foyer of the home, they took off their shoes and lined them on a rug by the door where a dozen and a half other pairs waited. The grand staircase sprawled to welcome them, garland and fairy lights still wrapped around the railing and the banister. Leftover decorations from Christmas.

The heavy bass and drum of the EDM trash Baekhyun followed religiously drifted out to greet them, clashing so perfectly with the prim polish of his decor.

“Come on,” Kyungsoo said, taking Jongin’s hand in his, “Sehun owes me twenty dollars.”

“I haven’t met him yet, have I?” Jongin asked.

“Not yet,” Kyungsoo said. “He lives in New York. He’s only visiting for the holidays.”

“What does he owe you for?” Jongin asked.

“Eagles game,” Kyungsoo said.

“I didn’t know you were into football,” Jongin said.

“I’m not really,” Kyungsoo said before clarifying. “I just like betting against Sehun.”

The bar was a welcome sight, liquor bottles of all shapes and sizes, glass glimmering in the low light.

“I’m gonna make a drink,” Kyungsoo said. “Want anything?”

Jongin let his eyes roam over the bottles, thinking. Kyungsoo knew his drink, though, and knew what Jongin would say. Same thing he always did: gin and tonic. He cheated towards the bottles. Baekhyun had that elderflower liqueur he liked. No, loved.

“I think I might just have beer,” Jongin said. “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo asked, holding up the bottle. “He’s got St. Germain’s.”

Baekhyun would have bought it specially for Jongin. He was thoughtful when it came to alcohol.

“That’s okay,” Jongin smiled. “I’m good. I’ll see you soon.”

Kyungsoo didn’t have time to tell him it wouldn’t take long to pour the drink as Jongin flitted out of the room immediately, into the kitchen where the din radiated. Kyungsoo watched as he went, his dress shirt stretched across the broad of his back in a way that made Kyungsoo’s mouth water.

He found the good whisky, the 21 year Glenfiddich that Baekhyun only put out on holidays. He poured three fingers of it over a couple of the whisky stones that were kept nearby. He wandered back to meet the clash of sounds.

All of the normal people were there, eating and drinking and talking loudly. He saw Jongin speaking with Sehun, a bottle of Budweiser in his hands, so he went to greet them first.

“Hey,” Sehun said, eyes dipping low in shame.

Kyungsoo stuck his hand out and laughed when Sehun handed him the bill. Kyungsoo jammed it in his back pocket happily.

“Fucking who knew they’d be so good this year,” Sehun said. “Useless fuckin’ Eli Manning. Making that dumbass face. I can’t handle it. I’m so jealous of you.”

“Well, the curse is still alive,” Kyungsoo said. “See Wentz?”

“Jesus Christ, yeah,” Sehun said. “Awful luck.”

“They would have gone all the way,” Kyungsoo said wistfully. “For sure.”

“They still might,” Sehun said. “Foles…”

“Fucking sucks,” Kyungsoo finished for him.

They laughed, and it felt like no time had passed since he’d last seen Sehun. Kyungsoo liked friendships like that.  

“I miss you, man,” Sehun said. “You gotta get up to the city soon. I’ll take you out. And you can bring your boy.”

He gestured to Jongin, who fiddled with the label of his beer bottle.

“I like him,” Sehun said to Kyungsoo. “He’s cute.”

“He’s alright,” Kyungsoo said, looking at Jongin.

“I’m right here,” Jongin said. He used his put-on voice. Bratty.

“We know,” Sehun said. He took his time raking his eyes over Jongin. “God, where’d he find you?”

“I found him, actually,” Jongin said. He looked Sehun up and down, almost enough to make Kyungsoo jealous.

“Ooh, feisty,” Sehun said. “I like him a lot.”

“I’m keeping him,” Kyungsoo said. “So hands off.”

Sehun raised his hands in acquiescence.

“I’d never dream of crossing you, Soo,” Sehun said. “I wasn’t kidding, by the way. You guys can stay a weekend up at my place. It’s nice in the spring.”

Kyungsoo thought about the three of them. Relaxing. A picnic in the park. The trees lush again. The sky bright and blue. Fruit. Cheese. Bread. Those little cans of wine. Jongin and Sehun. Heads resting in his lap.

Kyungsoo looked to Jongin who nodded and reached a hand down to squeeze Kyungsoo’s.

“Sounds good,” Kyungsoo said. “It’ll be nice to get up there for a little break.”

“Tell me about it. Philly is a shithole,” Sehun said.

“It was your shithole once upon a time,” Kyungsoo said.

“Oh, you know me,” Sehun said loftily. “Always moving onto bigger and better things.”

Jongin laughed, and Sehun punched him in the shoulder.

“Fucker,” Sehun said. “You don’t know me well enough to laugh at me.”

“Kyungsoo’s told me stories,” Jongin said.

“Oh yeah?” Sehun cocked an eyebrow in Kyungsoo’s directions. “Well, maybe I’ll have to tell you some stories.”

“And that’s my cue,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m gonna go say hi to everyone else.”

“Okay, have fun,” Jongin smiled. He was comfortable. He was happy. That made Kyungsoo happy.

“I will,” Kyungsoo said before addressing Sehun. “Be good.”

“I am many things,” Sehun said. “But never good.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and kissed Jongin on the cheek before walking to Baekhyun, already tipsy with a tragically large glass of rosé in his hand. He had a goofy little headband on. 2018.

“Hello, my very good friend named Kyungsoo,” he said.

“Hello, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo said. “When’d you get started, then?”

“This afternoon,” Baekhyun said, shifting his weight from right to left. “Cleaning this place was a bitch, and you know what helps? Wine.”

“I believe it,” Kyungsoo said. “Thanks for having us.”

“Are you kidding? It’s my pleasure,” Baekhyun said. “You never come out anymore. You’re always too busy with that beautiful piece of ass.”

They looked across the room. Jongin had his head thrown back in laughter. Sehun was gesticulating wildly, miming vomiting. Christ, he knew that story. Hopefully Jongin wouldn’t believe it.

“He is beautiful, isn’t he,” Kyungsoo said.

“Ew, gross,” Baekhyun said. “You guys are too happy.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything, just smirked as he sipped at his drink.

“I see you found the good shit that I happened to hide in the back, away from the rest of these vultures.” Baekhyun said.

“I am rather talented at finding the good shit,” Kyungsoo said.

“Unlike this dope,” Baekhyun said, gesturing to Chanyeol who moved to throw an arm around his shoulder.

“We drink shitty beer! We vape with Yixing! We die like men!” Chanyeol chanted, tipping the neck of his bottle to clink with Kyungsoo’s lowball.

“How’s he fitting in?” Baekhyun asked, gesturing back to Jongin and Sehun.

“Good,” Kyungsoo said. “Sehun likes him.”

“Well, of course Sehun likes him,” Chanyeol said. “He’s hot.”

“He invited us up for a weekend,” Kyungsoo said.

“Oh shit,” Baekhyun laughed. “Threesome.”

“It’s not like that,” Kyungsoo said, but his mind ran with it for a moment. It certainly wouldn’t be something he would be opposed to.

“It is absolutely like that,” Chanyeol said. “Look.”

Sehun ran his hand along Jongin’s bicep. Jongin leaned into it, smiling prettily. Kyungsoo wasn’t used to seeing Jongin making that face at anyone other than him. It was as intoxicating as it was infuriating.

“Oops,” Baekhyun said. “An error.”

“A miscalculation. A critical mistake,” Chanyeol said.

“I gotta, um,” Kyungsoo said. “Use the bathroom.”

He set his drink down on the counter, and instead of using the powder room, he took the stairs two at a time. He walked into the bathroom. It smelled like teakwood. Earthy and spicy. He heard the music from downstairs blaring. A song he actually knew: Redbone. His life was a fucking meme. He locked the door. Turned on the water.

He wasn’t...he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Not angry. Not upset. Unclear. Muddy.

He wet his hands under the faucet before reaching up to pat at his face.

A gentle knock at the door.

“Soo?”

Kyungsoo shut off the water. Unlocked the door.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly.

“What’s wrong?” Jongin asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Kyungsoo said. “Just got a little hot in there.”

“You leave and all of a sudden, Baekhyun is bitching at Sehun,” Jongin said, narrowing his eyes. “You saw him touch me? And you ran upstairs to sulk?”

“It’s not like that,” Kyungsoo said, trying to cut a fight off at the pass. “I know he wouldn’t try anything. He’s my friend. I just--I just got a little overwhelmed.”

Jongin’s eyes were so soft, so warm and soft and Kyungsoo thought he could drown in them.

“You know I’m not like that, right? You know I’d never do anything like that,” Jongin asked. “You trust me, right?”

“More than anyone else,” Kyungsoo said.

“Thank you. I wanna put you at ease, though. I won’t flirt with anyone anymore,” Jongin said.

“I don’t want you not to flirt,” Kyungsoo said. “It’s cute. I like it.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Jongin said. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“It doesn’t hurt me, I swear,” Kyungsoo said. “I think I just…”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking about us,” Kyungsoo said. “With him.”

“With Sehun?” Jongin asked.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, looking down at the floor. “About you two. You’d look good together.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said. “Stop.”

“You would,” Kyungsoo said. “You know you would.”

Jongin looked up to the ceiling and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Kyungsoo said. “Sharing you for a night.”

Jongin’s eyes snapped down. Kyungsoo felt the gaze in his soul.

“You can’t be serious,” Jongin said. “You are the most possessive person in the world, Kyungsoo. You got jealous when I mentioned I had a duet with another dude.”

“I’m working on it,” Kyungsoo said. “I mean, if you saw how you looked when you danced, you’d get jealous too.”

It was quick argument they’d had, nearly over before it had even begun. He’d moved on. He was trying.

“Besides, you’d have to share me too,” Kyungsoo continued.  

Jongin smiled.

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t get you at all,” Jongin said. “You...you constantly fuckin’ surprise me. I don’t deserve you at all.”

“Bullshit,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin pulled Kyungsoo into his arms, nuzzled into his neck.

“Would you wanna?” Kyungsoo asked. “If he was into it?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin said. “Maybe. If it felt right.”

“I could make it feel right,” Kyungsoo offered. “I’d set the mood for it.”

“Yeah?” Jongin said. He put a kiss at the collar of Kyungsoo’s shirt. “How?”

“I’d make you dinner,” Kyungsoo said. “Both of you.”

Jongin groaned, gathered Kyungsoo closer. The way to a man’s heart.

“He has a big stove that he never uses. It’s so nice. A griddle built-in,” Kyungsoo said. “I’d make something really nice for you. You and him.”

“For us,” Jongin said.

“Candles,” Kyungsoo said. “Yanni.”

“Rose petals,” Jongin said, “and cuckolding.”

Kyungsoo slapped him on the back, and Jongin chuckled.

“Would it still be cuckolding if we were both actively participating?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Semantics,” Jongin said, waving a hand. “Keep going. Talk more about our threesome.”

“He’s way into you,” Kyungsoo said. “I’d make sure he knew who you belonged to, though.”

Kyungsoo flattened a palm on the back of Jongin’s head, gripped a fistful of his hair and pulled him back. Jongin gasped wetly.

“Kiss me,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin kissed him fiercely, mouth open. Kyungsoo swallowed his moans, and it settled him. He knew this. He knew Jongin. Jongin was loyal to a fault, the idea was fiercely arousing, and they could have this if they wanted. He could let himself have this. Jongin wasn’t going anywhere.

“Shit,” Jongin said. “Stop, we have to go back downstairs.”

“They’re gonna assume we’re either fighting or fucking,” Kyungsoo said. “Might as well confirm that assumption.”

“We have to save Sehun from Baekhyun’s wrath,” Jongin said, putting just a centimeter between them.

“Ah,” Kyungsoo said. “You’re right, it’s my fault he’s being grilled. Let’s go rescue him.”

Jongin smiled, all beautiful white teeth. Pretty. Like he smiled at Sehun. But warmer. Impossibly warmer. Kyungsoo melted as Jongin pressed a kiss to his lips. Looked at Kyungsoo curiously.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Jongin said. “You don’t have to do all this shit. You don’t have to have a threesome just to keep me.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo said. “I want to.”

Jongin smiled again. Less warm. Sad. Another kiss. Grabbed his hand before Kyungsoo could say anything.

“Come on,” Jongin said. “I’m gonna get you all fucked up so you’ll tell all your tall college tales.”

❌⭕️

“You barely touched your food,” Kyungsoo said.

He closed the bills in the folder along with the check, sliding it back to the center of the table.

“I dunno,” Jongin said. “Just...not very hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Kyungsoo said, distinctly unsettled. “Do you wanna get something else? We could get chicken. Or I could make you something at home, if you aren’t feeling well.”

“I’m fine,” Jongin said, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry, I’m just not good company tonight.”

“You’re always good company,” Kyungsoo said. He grabbed Jongin’s hands in his.

“I’m not,” Jongin said, contorting his face in a way that Kyungsoo couldn’t read. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Kyungsoo said, his stomach sinking.

“You brought me flowers,” Jongin said. “You made the reservations. You drove. You paid for dinner. You tried to make conversation with me. You’ve been doing it all.”

“I--”

“I want to,” Jongin finished for him. “I know. You always want to.”

“Have I--have I done something wrong?” Kyungsoo asked. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to do something nice for you. For us.”

Jongin scrubbed a hand through his hair, let his eye wander the restaurant. Kyungsoo followed his gaze. So many couples.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Jongin said. “I’m just...you know, fucking crazy.”

“You’re not,” Kyungsoo said.

“I am,” Jongin argued. “I’m absolutely fucking crazy. And something is making me wanna fight right now.”

“You want to...fight?” Kyungsoo asked, eyebrows flicking up in confusion.

“I don’t know, sort of,” Jongin said. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo said. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know. It’s alright.”

“God,” Jongin laughed. “Stop being so fucking understanding.”

It was the best Jongin had looked all evening, and Kyungsoo heart ached at the sight of his smile. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

“Would you like me to be meaner?” Kyungsoo smiled.  

“That wouldn’t hurt,” Jongin said, and he said it too seriously for Kyungsoo’s liking. “I don’t mean to be awful. I’m just...working through shit, I guess.”

“That’s okay,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m here. Whatever you need. If you wanna talk or...not.”

“I know,” Jongin said. “Come on, take me back to your place. I’ll make it up to you.”

He wore a chaste, charming smile that belied his offer. Jongin could do that: make something lewd look a lot less so.

“Maybe, um,” Kyungsoo started. He felt unusually shy all of a sudden.

“Maybe?” Jongin asked.

“Maybe we could do that thing we talked about?” Kyungsoo asked. “Last week?”

Jongin’s eyes darkened.

“Tonight?” he confirmed. “You want that tonight?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo breathed.

Jongin looked down at his hands. Grabbed Kyungsoo’s in his.

“Kyungsoo,” he said. “Of course, I can give you that.”

The anticipation lightened them both considerably.

Jongin’s hands didn’t leave him on the drive back to Kyungsoo’s apartment, and the sudden rush of affection held Kyungsoo at attention the entire drive. Jongin slithered across the leather of the interior, his lips against Kyungsoo’s ear.

“I want you,” Jongin said. “I want you so bad.”

“You have me,” Kyungsoo said.

“All of you?” Jongin asked. “Whatever I want?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, fighting like hell to keep his head clear so he could get them home. “Whatever you want.”

“I want your ass,” Jongin said, licking along the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear. “I wanna see my come drip out of you tonight.”

Kyungsoo clenched at the wheel, hissed out a breath.

“I’m gonna take you,” Jongin said. “I’m gonna take what’s mine.”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispered. “God.”

“Am I teasing you?” Jongin asked. A laugh in his mouth. “Should I tease you the whole way home?”

“No,” Kyungsoo said. “Please.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Jongin asked. He grabbed the crotch of Kyungsoo’s pants and found him hard. “I can do whatever I want to you, and you’ll take it. You’ll like it.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, completely unsure how he was so close to coming just from a few words and a grope. “Jongin.”

“Say my name again,” he said. “Tell me who owns you.”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, braking for a red light. He turned to face Jongin.

“Mine,” Jongin said.

He grabbed Kyungsoo’s face in a hand and kissed him harder than he ever had before. Kyungsoo was breathless, shaking with arousal. He didn’t know what this was, but he liked it, liked it so much that he could feel himself choking on it.  

By the time the light turned green, Kyungsoo was gasping.

“You like that?” Jongin asked. “Is that how you want it?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, hands tense. “Please.”

It was a whirlwind. Kyungsoo felt himself falling. Jongin moved them upstairs quickly, took care of everything. The door. Their clothes.

Kyungsoo moved onto his knees on the bed, offered Jongin his mouth.

“Slut,” Jongin said, and the word bumped against the back of Kyungsoo’s throat. He swallowed his lust and with it, Jongin’s dick.

Jongin petted him, tangling his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair before dragging him another inch further. Kyungsoo gagged, his reflex triggered. He coughed as Jongin pulled him off.

“Spit,” Jongin said, putting out his hand.

He smirked as Kyungsoo immediately obeyed. Jongin sat up and ran his wet fingers between Kyungsoo’s legs.

“You know what to do,” he said, playing with the rim of Kyungsoo’s asshole. “I’ll get you ready.”

Kyungsoo whimpered, obliged him. Lowered his mouth so Jongin could fuck into it.

“Needy,” Jongin said softly, gently. “Needy little whore.”

He let himself be used, got lost in the sounds and the sensations. It wasn’t dry, but spit wasn’t lube. Jongin worked a finger in. So slow. He couldn’t help but moan. Half pain, half pleasure. So electric.  

“Fuck,” Jongin said, the first crack in his exterior that Kyungsoo could see. “Get me the lube.”

Kyungsoo got up off the bed with shaky legs and crossed to his chest of drawers. He retrieved the lube from the top drawer.

“The plug too,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo’s body quaked.

“Don’t make me wait, Soo,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo placed the lube and the plug in Jongin’s hands. Jongin kissed him in response, but it was different. He did it...sweetly. Like a reminder. Kyungsoo reveled in it, but when a Jongin slapped his ass, he was reminded. Where he was. What they were doing. What Kyungsoo asked Jongin for.

“Straddle me,” Jongin said, lying back. “Backwards.”

Kyungsoo did as he was bade, the longing in him rearing its head.

“Go on,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo sucked him down once more, resumed the pace that Jongin had set for him. Unforgiving. Brutal. Stifling.

Jongin wasted no time as he slid two fingers into Kyungsoo. Infinitely easier, infinitely more familiar. Kyungsoo arched his back in relief.

Jongin then stretched his fingers wide, and he laughed at Kyungsoo’s answering whine.

“There you go,” Jongin said. “Show me where you want me. Spread yourself open.”

Kyungsoo arched his back to an uncomfortable degree, held himself open with his hands.

“Pretty hole,” Jongin said, fingering him. “I’m gonna make a mess of it. I’m gonna fill you up, let it leak out. Stuff it back in. Make you keep it there.”

Kyungsoo felt so strange, so happy to be used. He felt like someone new. He liked it so much, he wanted to cry.

“Should I send you home with the plug in?” Jongin wondered aloud. “Or should I pull it out in the shower? I bet you’d like it if I licked you clean.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what it was. Jongin’s words, his voice. His hands. His body. His warmth. The relief, the surrender. the submission. All of it, probably. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, and tears leaked out at the corners. They fell onto Jongin.

“Oh my god,” Kyungsoo cried. “Oh my god.”

“Hey. Too much?” Jongin asked. “Red?”

“Green,” Kyungsoo said. “Green, green.”

“That’s my boy,” Jongin said, softer than before. “My good boy.”

Kyungsoo wiggled, pleased with the praise.

Jongin was rough and thorough. Kyungsoo could barely focus on sucking his dick. He pulled off absently, inundated with stimulation as he rubbed his face into Jongin’s erection. Kissed his way along it, laved it with long sweeps of his tongue as he let Jongin know how much he liked it.

“You’re a good little cockslut, aren’t you?” Jongin asked.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said. His lips buzzed, running over the veins.  

“Get back on that cock, then,” Jongin said. “Suck it, baby. Take me deep. Show me what you’re good at.”

He wanted nothing more than to please, so he took Jongin as deep as he could. He abandoned all decorum, dropped all the normal barriers he would put on himself to keep some level of control. It was filthy. It was hot. He could feel the saliva dripping down his chin, his jaw, his throat. He groaned, tilted his hips back and up in offering. He wanted to be stuffed full.  

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jongin said. “Nobody does it better than you. Nobody’s ever sucked my dick like you. My little whore. Fuck, that’s right.”

Kyungsoo could feel Jongin’s orgasm approaching, the way he thrust his fingers inside with more agitation behind it. Spread him just a little wider. Pushed his hips up, unwilling to leave the heat of Kyungsoo’s mouth for very long.

Before he knew it, Kyungsoo was being lifted up, flipped around, thrown onto the bed with his head near the pillows.

“On your knees,” Jongin said. “Ass up.”

Kyungsoo struggled onto his hands and knees, arching his back. But Jongin pressed on his shoulders, forced him to lay his stomach flat on the bed. His ass up.  

“Stay,” he said.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

“No condom,” Jongin said. They’d agreed before, but Jongin gave Kyungsoo time to change his mind. His heart ached pleasantly. “No, of course not. You want it raw.”

Kyungsoo arched more. He’d never presented himself like this before, but he felt sexy in a way he never had before. Completely fucking helpless. Surrendered to it.

Jongin slipped inside, bottomed out in one clean stroke, and Kyungsoo moved back to meet him.

“Shit,” Jongin whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Kyungsoo clenched in response.

“Naughty,” Jongin laughed. “Naughty little slut with a tight pretty hole. Again.”

Kyungsoo tightened again, and his voice cracked on a high moan as Jongin pulled out and pushed in through the resistance before Kyungsoo relaxed under his hand.

“That hurt?” Jongin asked, and when Kyungsoo kept quiet, “Answer.”

“A little,” Kyungsoo said, voice scratchy.

“Did you like it?” Jongin asked.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

“Slut,” Jongin said. It sounded like a pet name. “You like it when I’m rough?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin laughed and gripped Kyungsoo tight by the hips before pulling him back to meet his own. Kyungsoo balled the sheets in his fists and hung on for dear life.

“That’s how you like getting fucked, huh,” Jongin said. “Can’t get enough. You want it hard and fast. You want me to come so deep in you, you feel it in your stomach.”

Kyungsoo groaned, so loud that all he could hear was his own voice in his ears. Jongin was everywhere. Punishing. Pushing every button. Kyungsoo felt like he was about to die or maybe levitate.

“Fuck me,” Kyungsoo heard himself say. Over and over again. “Fuck me, fuck me.”

Jongin spanked him as he fucked him, hard slaps against him that were nothing like normal. It sent jolts of electricity through him. Kyungsoo’s entire body was a live wire. He couldn’t handle it. He snaked a hand between his body and the sheets, touched himself and found his cock leaking.

Suddenly, a hand clasped at the nape of his neck, shoved him further into the pillows.

“No,” Jongin said. “No touching.”

Kyungsoo whimpered. He needed it so badly, he was about a hair’s breadth away from begging for it.

“You’re gonna come on my cock,” Jongin said.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said.

“Be a good boy,” Jongin said, hand still holding him to the mattress.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo moaned.

Jongin thrust into him with a rigorous rhythm, long snaps of his hips that left the room filled with the sounds of them. Kyungsoo’s groans were swallowed by the bed beneath him.

With an immediacy that left Kyungsoo feeling like he was on a delay, he was pulled up by Jongin’s strong arms, held against his body.

“Come on now,” Jongin said. His hand gripped Kyungsoo’s jaw. “Come for me.”

A tidal wave. Hard, furious, and leaving him gasping.

“That’s my boy,” Jongin said. “Let me fill you up.”

Jongin plugged him slowly, all but cooing as he made good on his promises. Kyungsoo covered his face with his hands as Jongin spoiled him. Told him how beautiful he was. How good he was.

Once Jongin was satisfied, he laid beside Kyungsoo, kissing his nose.

“Holy fuck,” Kyungsoo said.

“Good?” Jongin smiled.

“Incredible,” Kyungsoo said. “Please remind me to let you top more often.”

“I’m such a bottom, though,” Jongin said, playing with Kyungsoo’s soft dick. “I love him.”

It was stupid, a stupid little comment about how he liked Kyungsoo’s dick, but it stuck in Kyungsoo’s heart. That word. Love. He couldn’t help it. It was stupid. He wanted to tell him anyhow.

“Jongin,” he said, turning on his side to face him, “I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Jongin asked, turning to face Kyungsoo. “Tell me I rocked your world? That you wanna be my submissive full time? That we have to look into dual-ended dildos?”

Kyungsoo kissed him quiet.

“No,” he said. “I wanted to tell you something important.”

He knew his eyes went soft as he remembered all the ways Jongin was special to him. Kyungsoo couldn’t imagine his life without him. In the past six months, he had fallen so deeply in love, he couldn’t remember what it was like to ever not be in love.

“Don’t,” Jongin said.

“What?”

“Don’t say it,” Jongin said, face unreadable. “Save it.”

“I--,” Kyungsoo started. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Jongin said. “About dinner. It’s just been...I don’t know, it’s been a lot lately. I’m not used to this.”

“To what?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Having someone like you,” Jongin said. “I’m trying not to ruin it.”

“You keep saying that,” Kyungsoo said before tucking himself into Jongin. “You could never ruin it.”

Jongin let a hum that ran through Kyungsoo’s chest be his answer.

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do, so he did what he does when he doesn’t know what to do: he called Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

“Man, I don’t remember this place being such a shithole,” Baekhyun said happily as he drank his PBR. “I love it.”

“It’s very bad,” Chanyeol confirmed. “Fits our aesthetic.”

Kyungsoo said nothing, just let his eyes glaze over as he looked over the dive. It was, essentially, a basement. A shitty old pool table with the felt half torn up, cheap neon signs. Buck Hunter in the corner near the bathrooms. The thick, overwhelming stench of weed. He didn’t know how they’d managed to spend so many nights (or so much money) there.

“I miss college,” Chanyeol lamented.

“You miss getting blackout drunk on weekdays, you mean,” Baekhyun clarified.

“Yes?” Chanyeol said.

“I forget that some of us coasted until grad school,” Baekhyun said.

“Coasting implies that I didn’t put any effort in,” Chanyeol said. “Do you know how hard it was to get up for a 9 AM? In cross-cultural analysis? And then go right to an 11 AM in foreign policy? All while I was about to shit my brains out?”

“I always told you to take the potassium tablets before bed, but you never listened, bitch,” Baekhyun said.

“Because I’m a strong, independent man who doesn’t need a banana?” Chanyeol said. “You dumb fuck.”

“You both are dumb fucks,” Kyungsoo said.

He wondered why he’d called them in the first place because as much as he loves them, their chatter was bothering him like an itch under his skin.

“Ah, I didn’t think we’d be getting to it so soon,” Baekhyun said.

“What?” Kyungsoo said.

“We haven’t seen you in a while. Almost radio silence since the party,” Chanyeol said. “And then out of the blue you wanna come here? You are in Kyungsoo crisis mode.”

“What even is that supposed to mean?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Kyungsoo crisis mode,” Baekhyun began, “is when you, that’s the Kyungsoo part, withstand a great deal of mental and emotional stressors for an extended period of time before your brain boils over and goes up in flames like a crack house. That’s the crisis part.”

“And the mode part is..” Chanyeol started.

“The item in a data set that occurs most frequently,” Baekhyun smiled.

“Jerkoff,” Chanyeol said.

“Anyway, it’s very rare, which is distressing. And you always yell at us during Kyungsoo crisis mode,” Baekhyun said. “And you don’t find our antics charming.”

“I never find your antics charming,” Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun, for his part, looked affronted.

“Come on,” Chanyeol said. “Spill. What’s up?”

Kyungsoo took a large pull from his beer. Looked at the tiny television screen in the corner of the room.

“Do I have to tickle you?” Baekhyun asked.

“I’m not ticklish,” Kyungsoo said. A rote response.

“Now, now. We both know that’s just not true,” Baekhyun said. “So tell us what’s wrong, or we’ll get you.”

“Let him start off easy,” Chanyeol said. “How’s the boy?”

Kyungsoo felt his shoulders hunch closer to his ears.

“Uh oh,” Chanyeol said.

“What the fuck,” Baekhyun said. “Shit was paradise by the dashboard light like, two minutes ago. What’s wrong?”

“What’d he do?” Chanyeol asked.

“Does he have a secret kid?”

“Does he have a secret wife?”

“Is he a Republican?”

“Did he bang Sehun?”

“Did he steal your favorite pen?”

“Oh my god, did he use your favorite pen?”

“I yearn for death,” Kyungsoo said.

“Seriously,” Baekhyun said in that voice he rarely used, soft and gentle like he was putting on the kid gloves. “What’s going on, baby?”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know what was going on, so how was he supposed to explain it to anyone?

“Jongin is being weird lately,” Kyungsoo said.

“Weird how?” Chanyeol asked. “Watersports weird, or reading about Ted Bundy too much weird?”

“Stop kinkshaming,” Baekhyun said.

“Neither,” Kyungsoo said. “He’s been weird about...us, I guess. When I do stuff for him.”

“Sexual favors stuff?” Chanyeol asked.

“Oh my fucking god,” Baekhyun said, jumping off his barsstool to round on Chanyeol. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna put my foot through your solar plexus.”

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this, bud,” Chanyeol said. “It’s good to rule out sex stuff. Can we rule out sex stuff?”

Kyungsoo bit his lip, remembering the past couple weeks. They’d only managed to see each other a couple times, but physically speaking, everything seemed normal. Jongin initiated and responded the same way he always did: with vigor.  

“That is the look of a man who has been getting good dick,” Chanyeol said. “So we can rule out sex stuff.”  

“Is there an ounce of tact in your body?” Baekhyun asked.

“That’s really rich coming from a dude who once asked my mom at a Christmas party if the carpet matched the drapes,” Chanyeol scoffed.

“It was a joke!” Baekhyun exclaimed. “She got new curtains! I was being thoughtful!”

Kyungsoo buried his head against the bar before rethinking the action, well aware of how many bare asses have been against it in its time, Baekhyun’s more than a dozen times.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he let it happen.

“You can talk,” Baekhyun said. “We’re done.”

Kyungsoo exhaled unevenly.

“I took him to the ballet. He dances,” Kyungsoo explained.

“I remember,” Chanyeol said.

“Right, the famous dancer hips,” Baekhyun leered.

“I knew I should have never talked to you guys about this,” Kyungsoo said.

“Ignore him,” Chanyeol said. “Continue. Ballet.”

“So I surprised him for Christmas. We went to see the Nutcracker. I got him a drink before we went in and...I don’t know. He just got weird,” Kyungsoo said.

“Elaborate on the weirdness,” Baekhyun said.

“Like, he said he felt guilty,” Kyungsoo said. “He felt like he was gonna ruin us?”

“And no reasoning besides it?” Chanyeol asked.

“He just said he wanted to be as good to me as I am to him,” Kyungsoo said. “And then it was fine after.”

“That’s not so bad,” Baekhyun said. “I mean, a little weird, but some people aren’t great at getting attention.”

“It just keeps happening,” Kyungsoo said. “He gets weird when I get him flowers now. Like he doesn’t like it anymore or something. And I drove to see him when he was sick, and he was weird about it.”

“How?” Baekhyun asked. “That’s a nice thing to do.”

“He told me I shouldn’t have taken the time off,” Kyungsoo said, feeling his face heat in shame remembering it. “I dunno. I just wanted to take care of him.”

“What the fuck,” Baekhyun said. “What a dickhead.”

Kyungsoo resisted the urge to leap to Jongin’s defense.

“You didn’t call or anything first?” Chanyeol asked and when Kyungsoo shook his head no, “maybe he felt uncomfortable with you showing up unannounced.”

“He gave me a key,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yeah, he gave him a key!” Baekhyun said.

“I’m just saying it seems like he’s throwing off signs of being overwhelmed,” Chanyeol said. “Like he’s being smothered.”

Kyungsoo hung his head.

“I was…,” Kyungsoo started. “I was gonna tell him I loved him last night.”

“Oh, honey,” Baekhyun said, rubbing at his back.

“I was about to say it,” Kyungsoo said. “It was our six month anniversary. I took him to dinner, and he was weird again. And then I was gonna tell him I loved him...he told me not to say it, whatever it was. It was like he knew what I was gonna say. And he didn’t want me to tell him.”

“What the fuck is up his asshole?” Baekhyun said, some genuine anger in his voice. “Holy shit.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Kyungsoo said. “I wanna talk to him, I wanna ask, but...I feel so helpless. I feel like I don’t know him at all anymore. I used to be able to just look at him and know what he was thinking and feeling. Now it feels so different.”

“Give him time,” Chanyeol said. “Give him space.”

“You think?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Definitely,” Chanyeol said. “He’s uncomfortable for whatever reason. You should ask, try and talk to him about it, but...at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter why. Just back off. Read the room, buddy.”

Kyungsoo frowned. He let the silence stretch on as they drank.

“I think that’s an awful fucking idea,” Baekhyun said, setting his beer down on the bar with a definitive thunk.

“Yeah, you’d know all about those,” Chanyeol scoffed.

“You need to tell him you love him,” Baekhyun said.

“You think?” Kyungsoo said.

“Of course! That’s what I would do,” Baekhyun said.

“King of healthy relationships Byun Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whispered.

“Hey, fucker, I’m allowed to indulge in the wonders of Tinder,” Baekhyun said.

“Indulge is a kind word,” Chanyeol said. "A generous word." 

“You are missing the point completely,” Baekhyun said. “The point is that Kyungsoo and Jongin were very happy and should still be happy. Maybe he just needs a little more loving. It might loosen him up.”

“Oh yeah, because doubling down is a great idea,” Chanyeol said. “He’s literally telegraphing he needs space, you dunce.”

“Maybe he just needs reassurance, maybe it’s a cry for help,” Baekhyun said, waving his hands wildly. “You don’t know what he needs.”

“Ah, I forgot that’s how the old phrase went,” Chanyeol said. “If you love something, crush it between your ass cheeks until it dies and you die and everything dies because you killed it.”

Baekhyun moved to shake Chanyeol, hands firm on his shoulders.

“I’m gonna fucking murder you,” Baekhyun said.

“Stop it, oh my god,” Kyungsoo said. “This was fucking pointless. I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun looked back at Kyungsoo, still in the midst of shaking Chanyeol fiercely.

“What are you sorry for?” Baekhyun said.

“This whole fucking mess,” Kyungsoo said, grabbing his wallet and leaving enough for their drinks on the bar. “I gotta go.”

“Wait,” Chanyeol said. “We were just getting somewhere.”

Kyungsoo walked out of the bar, distantly hearing Baekhyun order him to text them both when he got home.

Kim finds him later that third night after the kids and the rest of the troop leaders are fast asleep.

He presses his body close to Kyungsoo’s, whose first instinct is to shove him backwards, two calloused palms flat on Kim’s chest. Which is exactly what he does.

“Whoa,” Kim whispers. “Relax.”

“What do you mean, relax ?” Kyungsoo whispers back. “You can’t--you can’t just touch me.”

“Soo,” Kim croons. “Can’t we talk about it? Please?”

“I’ve told you multiple times, but since you refuse to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull, fine, I’ll spell it out for you,” Kyungsoo says, trying to keep his voice low, tempered. “I don’t wanna see you. I don’t wanna talk to you. I’m trying to be nice, but you’re fucking hurting me.”

He tries to keep the edge out of his voice, but he can feel the tears springing to his eyes. And it fucking terrifies him.

Kyungsoo doesn’t cry. Not for any bullshit masculinity stuff, but he just never cries. He never thinks about it, really, doesn’t know why. But this, for whatever reason, has him right on the edge. Frustration, maybe. Why is it always Kim, he wonders. Why’s it always Kim who gets him to this place?

Kim kicks at the dirt with his shoe, and Kyungsoo watches, tries to swallow over the feeling in his throat. He absolutely can’t cry. Not now.

“I guess I didn’t know it was like that,” Kim says quietly. “I didn’t know you were serious. I thought it was like...like it was before. Like a game.”

Kyungsoo can’t blame him. It was like that before, even if Kyungsoo didn’t realize it. Cat and mouse. A push and pull. The thought of it makes bile rise in Kyungsoo's throat.

“Well, it’s different now,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s not a game to me.”

Kim stares at him, open and honest and unguarded like he’s never put up a wall in his entire life. A lie, Kyungsoo knows.

“That’s now how I meant it,” Kim says. “I just meant...I don’t know. You always liked it when I pushed.”

“Consider me officially anti-pushing,” Kyungsoo says, and he hates how it feels to lie.

“So, there’s no chance?” Kim asks. “Not ever?”

Kyungsoo wavers. He knows he should say there isn’t. There isn’t a chance, he tells himself. There isn’t. Not in a million fucking years would he get involved with Kim Jongin again. He tries to open his mouth to say it, but nothing happens.

“You don’t have to say it,” Kim says. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want. Just give me a sign one way or the other.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, just looks at the stars. Aquila soaring. Vega, bright and blue. It’s about one in the morning, judging from the looks of the sky.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Kim says. “I promise. I’ll never talk to you again. I’ll get out of your way. I’ll stay out of your way. Just give me the word.”

Kim takes his leave at that, shoulders hunched in defeat. Kyungsoo watches as he starts to go, moving graceful as he always does.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what pulls him to follow, but Junmyeon’s voice rings in his head. Something, he doesn’t know what, all but drags him over. He must move quietly because Jongin doesn’t turn, just pulls at the zipper of his tent before Kyungsoo rests a hand on Jongin’s shoulder.

Jongin faces him, surprise written plainly on his face.

“Soo?”

Kyungsoo tugs him to his chest, wraps tight arms around him.

“Nini,” Kyungsoo whispers.

Kyungsoo can feel Jongin’s smile against his neck.

❌⭕️

He didn’t know how it broke, but when it did, it splintered in a million ways and all at once.

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do, pulled between the advice of his two best friends. He ended up doing nothing, just watching as Jongin fell from him slowly over the next several weeks. Distance. Perfunctory conversations. Hot sex that made Kyungsoo feel like maybe things could be saved if he could just figure out what was wrong, figure out what to do.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo said, walking into his apartment. Jongin was waiting on the couch, hands folded in his lap. “Everything okay?”

“I think we need to talk,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo’s stomach dropped. A tiny part of him held onto hope.

“Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea? Wine?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Nah,” Jongin said, patting the couch. “Come sit.”

Kyungsoo sat. He worked his way into Jongin’s arms when Jongin held them open for him.

“How was your day?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Good, you?” Jongin answered.

“Good,” Kyungsoo replied. “I missed you.”

“It’s been a while,” Jongin said.

“Always feels like longer than a week,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yeah.”

Kyungsoo hummed, desperate to stop feeling like they were walking on eggshells around each other. Kyungsoo let his eyes roam the room. Jongin didn’t have a bag. Maybe it was already in the bedroom, he reasoned.

“Kyungsoo, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna...I think maybe we need some time apart,” Jongin said.

No weekend bag. Of course not. He wouldn’t be staying.

Kyungsoo sat there, wrapped in Jongin’s arms, and thought that this was what shell shock felt like. He sat stock-still, careful not to move.Time apart. This was a break-up. He was being broken up with. It filtered through slow, sand in an hourglass.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo said. He knew if he said something more, he would regret it later.

“Okay?” Jongin said. “What do you mean, okay?”

“I mean if that’s what you want, then that’s what’s best for us right now,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin didn’t say anything, and Kyungsoo could feel the frustration radiating off of him. That was too much.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo said, “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

He left the warmth of Jongin’s arms, wandered into the kitchen. He braced himself on the counter for a moment. Tried to collect himself. Jongin followed him in. Stood across the island and watched as Kyungsoo poured himself a tall glass of water and drained half of it in one go.

“How are you so calm right now?” Jongin asked. “Don’t you want, I don’t know, an explanation? Don’t you wanna scream at me? Hit me?”

Kyungsoo resisted the urge to throw the glass to the ground.

“Jongin, I don’t know what you fucking want from me,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m trying to be civil here. I mean, you just broke my fucking heart. I don’t get it. Please, for the love of fucking God, just tell me, Jongin. Please. What do you want from me?”

He felt his voice shaking, too much emotion battering its way through.

“I want you to fucking stop!” Jongin said. “You’re fucking everywhere! All the time! You’re always doing shit. Being so good to me for no fucking reason. You’re always doing exactly what you should be doing.”

“Oh yeah, I’m such an asshole,” Kyungsoo said. “Trying to be the best boyfriend I can be.”

“That’s it!” Jongin said.

“What?”

“It’s not a fucking competition, Kyungsoo! It’s not a fucking challenge to see who’s better than who,” Jongin said.

And there it was. What Jongin really thought of him. Venom leaked from his teeth and flooded into his mouth. Charitable no longer. Understanding no longer.

“I can’t believe you. I literally can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” Kyungsoo said. “How could you ever think that way about me? About us?”

“How could I not?” Jongin asked. “That’s how you are. You told me. That’s how you are with everything.”

“Not with you! God. Have I ever tried to hold anything over your head?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin was quiet.

“Have I?” Kyungsoo asked. “I wanna know. Do you think I’ve been doing shit because I wanna be better than you?”

No response.

“Have you been doing shit for me because you felt like this?” Kyungsoo gritted out, trying not to cry. “Have you been blowing me just because you thought it was quid pro quo?”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Jongin said.

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to think, Jongin? I’ve told you over and over again. I don’t know how else to say it. I just wanted to be good to you. I just like it. I just like it. I fucking love you, Jongin,” he said.

Word vomit. He regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. He wished he could rewind time. Take it back. He didn’t mean it.

“Soo,” Jongin said. He wore the saddest expression Kyungsoo had ever seen, and it shattered him.

“I don’t wanna talk to you right now,” Kyungsoo said. “I think you should leave.”

“Soo,” Jongin pleaded. “Please.”

“What, you wanna stay so you can tell me what an awful person I am for wanting to make you happy? For trying to make us work?” Kyungsoo said. “You wanna fuck me one last time? A dicking for the road?”

“Kyungsoo, please,” Jongin said.

“No, I’m fucking tired of this. You know I’m not like that with you. You know I’m working on shit. You know, you know this is a fucking mistake, but you’re just gonna do it anyway. You’re an asshole. God, you’re worse than that. You’re a fucking coward. You’re scared of someone actually loving you, so you’re just gonna fuck off and leave,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin stayed quiet, head hung low, and Kyungsoo’s anger boiled in his stomach. He wanted to hurt Jongin, wanted to make him feel a fraction of what he was feeling.

“You made me love you,” Kyungsoo said. “I was fucking fine before you. I was doing fucking fine. I wish I didn’t love you so fucking much. I wish I could fucking erase every single thing you’ve ever said to me. I wish I’d never met you.”  

“Please don’t say things you don’t mean,” Jongin said.

“I mean every fucking word,” Kyungsoo lied.

Jongin looked him in the eye. Called his bluff. He looked down again.

“I think space will be good,” Jongin said, staring at his hands.

“Great news: once you get home, we’ve got almost 400 miles between us,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin huffed. Tears in his eyes.

“Can we talk soon?” he asked. “Check in?”

“I would prefer that we didn’t,” Kyungsoo said, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“You know, I think that might be something you should have considered before you broke up with me,” Kyungsoo said.

He walked to the door, threw it open. Jongin ran a hand through his hair and breathed out shakily. He crossed over the threshold into the hallway.

“Drive safe. Text me when you get home,” Kyungsoo said flatly. So that I know you’re safe, Kyungsoo thought.

“I will,” Jongin said. “I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo shut the door. He changed. Sweats. He got into bed. He pulled the covers up. And cried.

Kyungsoo stares at the big point board, hand-painted and wooden. Tied, again.

“Seems like fate, huh?” Jongin asks, too close to his ear.

Kyungsoo tries not to flinch away from it, but he can’t quite hold himself back.

“Too soon?” Jongin asks, stepping away from Kyungsoo minutely as if to give him space.

“No,” Kyungsoo says because that’s not it at all. He says as much.

“You constantly surprise me,” Jongin says, and it hits Kyungsoo straight in the heart.

“I get that all the time,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

He’s met with Jongin’s laughter, and God, did he miss that. He missed it like lazy weekends spent in sweats and each other’s arms, like artfully crafted “mixtapes” that were really Spotify playlists called “Driving to Nini’s,” volumes 1, 2, and 3, like kisses that felt like forever. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Nothing in the world.

“I really fuckin’ like you,” Jongin says. “You know, actually, I think I love you.”

Kyungsoo bites down the learned insecurity. Lets Jongin’s words wash over him like rain. He never stopped loving Jongin. He only tried to forget him. Only tried to move forward.

“I think I love you too,” Kyungsoo says.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that again,” Jongin says. “I’m happy I was wrong.”

“Me too,” Kyungsoo says.

“You wanna fight tonight?” Jongin smiles.

He slips a hand down to hold Kyungsoo’s, and Kyungsoo lets it happen.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “But we can talk.”

“I have a lot of apologizing to do,” Jongin says. 

“I have some too,” Kyungsoo says.  

“Our place?” Jongin asks.

Kyungsoo hates that he immediately understands. He nods his head.

Jongin squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand, and Kyungsoo feels so much heavier and so much lighter at the same time.

Kyungsoo’s life was fine before Jongin, and it went back to being absolutely fine.

He woke up, showered, ate breakfast, drank his coffee, and went to work. Came home. Ran through his sixth, then seventh rewatch of The Office. Drank a beer. Went to bed. Worked an angry fist over his cock under the covers. Came. Slept.

Every month, he’d have his Joeys over, and he’d talk and teach and listen and laugh. They made it quite easy.

Jongin texted him. Kyungsoo deleted them all as they came. Jongin called him. Kyungsoo let them go to voicemail and deleted them before listening.

Things went back to normal, as Kyungsoo knew they would. He put Kim Jongin out of his mind and kept him there.

❌⭕️

“Come on,” Chanyeol said.

“No,” Kyungsoo said.

His grip was already weakening. He was no match. Chanyeol had those freakishly long arms, too. Fucking genetics.

“If you don’t let go, you’re gonna bust the door frame off and then you’re gonna lose your deposit,” Chanyeol reasoned.

“It was only five hundred dollars,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ll manage.”

“Kyungsoo, I swear to god, let go,” Chanyeol said. “I told Baekhyun I would get you there, and I am a man of my word.”

“No, you’re not,” Kyungsoo said. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Ten out of ten joke, Kyungsoo, but it’s time to go,” Chanyeol said, pulling harder on Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

Kyungsoo tightened his hold on his door, unwilling to cross the threshold.

“It’s been three months, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol said.

“And a great three months it’s been,” Kyungsoo said.

“You haven’t seen us once,” Chanyeol whined.

“Precisely.”

“You’re hurting my precious feelings,” Chanyeol said. “Now let go before I tickle you.”

Kyungsoo let go immediately and let Chanyeol fall back, colliding with the hallway wall.

“You fucking dickhead,” Chanyeol said.

“Where are we even going?” Kyungsoo said.

“Karaoke,” Chanyeol said. “It’ll be loud and dark, I will buy all your drinks, and you won’t have to talk.”

Sometimes, his friends were alright.

❌⭕️

“It’s an half hour drive back for you,” Kyungsoo yelled. “And don’t you have work on Saturdays?”

Chanyeol and one of his work friends, a nice and usually normal guy named Minseok, were busy screaming a duet from Grease. Usually normal. His falsetto was weirdly nice, though.

“I’m crashing at your place,” Baekhyun said. “I thought that was a given.”

“It’s always a given that you impose,” Kyungsoo said.

“Aw,” Baekhyun cooed. “Missed you too, buddy.”

He threw a casual arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders while sipping his drink.

“So, how’ve you been?” Baekhyun asked.

Kyungsoo took a long pull of his own Chanyeol-sponsored drink.  

“I was told there would be no talking,” Kyungsoo said.

“Silly boy, this isn’t talking,” Baekhyun said. “This is a new thing that I just invented. It’s called ‘putting your friend’s soft, beautiful heart at ease.’”

“Oh, my mistake. That just sounds a lot like talking,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yes, your mistake,” Baekhyun smiled.

“Look, I’m sorry for not texting you guys back ever,” Kyungsoo said. “That was shitty of me.”

Baekhyun waved his drink around casually as if he was erasing the misdeed.

“No worries,” Baekhyun said. “You handle things in your own way, and we try to respect that as much as we can. We just worry about you, Soo.”

“You don’t need to worry. I’m okay,” Kyungsoo said.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an absolutely horrific liar?” Baekhyun replied. “Drink up.”

Kyungsoo drained his drink as instructed.

“You gotta do I Believe In A Thing Called Love,” Kyungsoo ordered.

“Pure sex appeal,” Baekhyun said. “An excellent suggestion. No sad songs for you, okay?”

“Fine,” Kyungsoo said. “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.”

“A banger, I love it,” Baekhyun said. “I’ll write you down. And get you another drink. Tequila sunrise?”

“Fuck no,” Kyungsoo said.

“Two tequila sunrises,” Baekhyun said. “Coming right up. Chanyeol!”

❌⭕️

“This was a bad idea,” Baekhyun giggled, bracing a hand against the tile.

“That’s all we’ve got,” Kyungsoo replied. “Wash my hair.”

Kyungsoo turned, and much as Baekhyun’s affinity for showering with friends annoyed him, it had been a while since anyone had touched him with affection. He breathed out as Baekhyun’s fingers worked his scalp. Kyungsoo might not have agreed if he was a hair’s breadth less drunk, but once they’d made their way back to his place, a warm shower sounded nice.

“Don’t get hard, don’t make it weird,” Baekhyun said.

“I can assure you I will not get hard,” Kyungsoo said. “Your face precludes it.”

“You’re such a bitch,” Baekhyun laughed. “Man, I missed this.”

“Me being a bitch? Or showering with me?”

“Showering with you. It’s been too long,” Baekhyun sighed.

The why hung thick in the air like steam.

Baekhyun grabbed him by the shoulders and directed him to dip his head under the water. It felt nice. Really nice.

“You miss him, huh,” Baekhyun said.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Kyungsoo said, a knot in his throat as the soap rinsed from his hair.

“Keep coming out with us,” Baekhyun said. “If you wanna forget about him and move on from him, you’ve gotta stop cave-dwelling.”

Kyungsoo raised his head to argue.

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun said. “You don’t do shit besides work, watch old animes, and do your Joey scout shit. I know. I stalk your instagram. It’s been boring as fuck.”  

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo said. “And I’ve been watching The Office, actually.”

“Wow. Yeah, you got me. That’s loads better,” Baekhyun said.

Baekhyun, much to Kyungsoo’s demise, had a point. He lathered his own hair as he spoke.

“I know you loved him, baby,” Baekhyun said. “I mean, fuck, I’ve never seen you like that before. But if you aren’t gonna answer his texts or calls or smoke signals, then it’s time to go back to normal.”

“I have,” Kyungsoo said.

“Sure, just without the people who care about you,” Baekhyun smirked. “Move.”

He nudged his way past Kyungsoo and into the water, washing the shampoo down the drain. It occurred to Kyungsoo how intimate it was, the whole scene. He loved Baekhyun, but his heart ached for someone else. He was never drinking again.

“I don’t wanna burden you guys. You have your own shit to deal with, you’re dating or whatever, you’ve got family shit, you’ve got work. I don’t wanna bring the mood down,” Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun stared at him with wide eyes.

“Hand me the soap,” he said.

Kyungsoo wordlessly handed it to him.

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun said. “I am still a little drunk, so bear with me right now, I am getting increasingly emotional.”

“Okay.”

“You are my best friend,” he said, lathering his body. “I have known you for eight years now. We have had our ups and downs. We have fought and reconciled. You have coached me through six breakups. I have seen you naked more times than I could count. You were there for me when I had to get my appendix out sophomore year, and my mom couldn’t come. I was scared as shit, you know.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo smiled.

“You saw me cry!” Baekhyun said. “I never cry!”

“What are you talking about? You always cry,” Kyungsoo said.

“Irrelevant!” Baekhyun said. “That night, when you stayed at the hospital overnight, just sitting in that chair in my room even though, like, I knew it was so fucking uncomfortable and the nurse kept telling you to go home...god, Soo. I looked at you and I was like ‘God damn, that’s my best fuckin’ friend.’ Nobody did the shit for me that you did.”

Baekhyun stuck out his hand and offered Kyungsoo the soap, which he took. He rubbed it between his hands, worked up the lather.

“Nothing you could ever do, and I mean ever do, could ever be a burden to me,” Baekhyun said. “We might not live together anymore, we might not see each other every day anymore, but you’re still that kid who drove me to the hospital. You’re still the guy who calls me out on my shit. You’re still the guy who sends my mom flowers on her birthday and takes my side in arguments against Chanyeol and gets so mad when he loses Boggle that he’ll flip the fuckin’ table. Like, I’d die for you, my dude.”

Kyungsoo looked down, looked at their feet. Felt stupid tears in his eyes.

“I dunno why he broke up with you, I don’t get it at all. But it’s his fuckin’ loss. It’s his loss, Kyungsoo. Because, listen, like, you are the best thing to ever happen to me,” Baekhyun said. “And if I was gay, I would be the gayest with you. I’d be so gay with you. You wouldn’t be able to stop this big gay train rolling into Kyungsoo station.”

“God, you always know how to ruin it,” Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun screamed out a laugh.

“Move to the suburbs. I’ll help you find a place. Montco is so nice,” Baekhyun said. “I’m so lonely with all you guys out here.”

“I’ve always lived in the city,” Kyungsoo said. “I always thought...once I settled down, found someone, once I wanted to start a family, I’d move. Buy a house and stuff.”

Baekhyun patted him on the cheek.

“I’m looking forward to it, baby,” he said. “And it’s gonna happen sooner rather than later for you.”

Kyungsoo felt like maybe he would be okay.

“Come on,” Baekhyun said. “Rinse off. I need to get some clothes on so I can hug the shit outta you.”

❌⭕️

Kyungsoo took Baekhyun’s advice for a change, and sure enough, he settled back into routine, content to move forward.

Kyungsoo walks up the hill and tries to get a hold of himself, both his breathing and his heart rate. Jongin has his back to Kyungsoo, his shoulder leaning against the pine tree. The line of him is as enticing as it ever was, all broad shoulders and slim waist. Thick thighs. Kyungsoo swallows.

A stick snaps under his foot, and Jongin turns to face him. His face breaks into a smile, and Kyungsoo feels like it’s morning already.

“For a second there, I thought you weren’t gonna show,” Jongin says.

He folds his arms. Kyungsoo knows he does that when he’s uncomfortable, trying to feign relaxation.

“I thought about it,” Kyungsoo lies.

“Liar,” Jongin smiles, and fuck, Kyungsoo hates him.

He hates Jongin. He hates Jongin. He loves Jongin so fucking much he could choke him.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says weakly, and he crosses the distance to punch just as weakly at Jongin’s shoulder.

Jongin catches his hand against him, makes Kyungsoo flatten his palm against Jongin’s skin.

“Before you can stop me,” Jongin says. “I’m gonna say all I need to say.”

But Jongin gives Kyungsoo plenty of time to yell, plenty of time to run. Kyungsoo does neither, just stands there and waits. He’s owed this, he thinks.

“I made a mistake,” Jongin says. “You know I made a mistake. Fuck, you knew it while I was doing it. I...I got scared. I got insecure. I don’t know. That never happens to me. You know I’m not that guy.”

“Apparently, you are,” Kyungsoo says matter-of-factly.

Jongin grabs Kyungsoo’s hand, still braced on his shoulder. Kyungsoo tenses and then relaxes.

“I don’t wanna be,” Jongin says. “I never wanna be like that again. And I just...fuck, I completely misinterpreted shit. I knew you weren’t like that, I knew you weren’t doing shit to make me feel insecure, but I just couldn’t make myself stop thinking. I completely fucked it up.”

“I should have realized I was coming on too strong after the ballet,” Kyungsoo says. “I should have paid more attention. I should have listened. I didn’t...I guess I didn’t get what you were asking for.”

“I should have been more clear,” Jongin says.

“I should have been more clear,” Kyungsoo echoes.

Jongin smiles weakly.

“You deserved better than that,” Jongin says. “You still deserve better than that.”

“Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo says, “for everything I said.”

“It’s okay,” Jongin says. “You were right.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Kyungsoo says. “I was wrong. I was mean because I wanted to hurt you for hurting me. That was childish, and I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo stares at his hand, still pressed to Jongin. Like it belongs there. And maybe it does, he thinks. Maybe this is fate, like Jongin said. Maybe this is God pulling them back together.

“I wanna try again,” Kyungsoo says.

“You do?” Jongin asks. His eyes are wide and bright, and Kyungsoo would drown in them if he could.

“As long as you want to.”

Jongin tugs Kyungsoo to his body, wraps him in a hug. Kyungsoo feels Jongin kiss his hair, and it’s...nice. It’s so much like it once was, Kyungsoo can’t believe it. He closes his eyes.

“For weeks, months , it was just so fuckin’ bad,” Jongin says. “I thought--I really thought that I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping us both. But I couldn’t get over it. You were all I could think about. I couldn’t forget how much I totally fucked it up. And I tried calling, I tried texting, but you wouldn’t answer.”

Kyungsoo breathes in sharply, ready to interject.

“And I don’t blame you,” Jongin says. “But I even thought about driving to see you. Try to convince you to talk to me.”

“That wouldn’t have gone so well,” Kyungsoo says to Jongin’s shoulder. “For you.”

“Nah,” Jongin laughs. “I knew that. That’s why I never did. I just...waited. Thought I could get you to fall back in love with me at the next regional meeting but you never showed.”

“I was sick,” Kyungsoo lies.

“Liar.”

Kyungsoo smiles.

“So I waited for the Jamboree. And I thought, well, I knew how I got you the first time around. Why mess with success?” Jongin laughs. “I tried to piss you off again.”

“Hey, jerkoff, you still got that goin’ for you,” Kyungsoo says.

“Clearly not the preferred strategy,” Jongin says.

“Not anymore,” Kyungsoo says.

“I don’t want you to change who you are,” Jongin says. “I never wanted that, not really. I was just so confused. I couldn’t imagine someone being as selfless as you were. It didn’t make sense to me, I’d never had someone love me like that. I wasn’t ready for it. But I’m ready now. I’m ready for you. I’m ready to appreciate you. I’m ready to love you.”

He wants to say so much. He wants to say everything you do is good. I admire everything you do. I think you’re just about the most beautiful person in the world, and even when I tried to forget you, I knew I never could. I fell hard for you, and I don’t think it’ll ever let go of me. I’m ready for you to love me.

Kyungsoo keeps his mouth shut.

“I know,” Jongin says, and Kyungsoo feels like maybe Jongin can read his mind anyway.

Kyungsoo extracts himself from Jongin’s arms. He looks so pretty like this. Flushed and windswept and a little teary.

“Can I kiss you?” Jongin asks.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t ask the first time around,” Kyungsoo says. “What’s got you so shy now?”

“I’m trying a different approach,” Jongin says. “Do you hate it?”

“No,” Kyungsoo says and he chooses not to say that he’d probably be a weak fucker for anything Jongin happened to do or say.

“Good,” Jongin says, and then waits expectantly.

“What?”

“Well, can I?”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes again and closes the gap between them, suddenly whole, suddenly able to breath again.

❌⭕️

Curiously, Kyungsoo wakes the morning after feeling incredibly normal. He had expected to feel some great weight in his chest, some pull between two needs within himself. He feels no such weight, no such pull. He just feels...good.

He exits his tent after dressing to find Jongin waiting, coffee in hand.

“Good morning,” he says.

Kyungsoo takes the coffee immediately.

“It is,” Kyungsoo agrees.

“Excited for today?” Jongin asks.

“Very,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m not gonna tell them to take it easy on you, though, just because we’re...doing whatever it is we’re doing.”

Jongin laughs, that same warm, hiccuping laugh that Kyungsoo had memorized and kept close to the chest.

“God, I’m in love with you,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo’s stomach does somersaults.

“Don’t say it so loud,” Kyungsoo warns.

“But I am,” Jongin says, kicking a foot forward to brush against Kyungsoo’s sneaker. “Very in love.”

“Bully for you, idiot,” Kyungsoo says.

“You’re smiling,” Jongin says.

“I am not,” Kyungsoo says.

“Should I get you a mirror?” Jongin asks.

“Shut the hell up,” Kyungsoo says.

“You better stop, I’m beginning to like you being mean to me,” Jongin says.

Kyungsoo sips at the coffee, trying like hell to ignore the way his stomach just keeps flipping. Jongin is shameless, beautiful, his.

“I think we should make plans, by the way,” Jongin continues. “If you need to check your calendar and like, put it in the color-coding, I’ll wait.”

“Plans?”

“Well, yeah,” Jongin says. “Like, a date. And I’m gonna pay. You can’t stop me.”

Kyungsoo looks around, confirms the pleasant emptiness of the early morning campgrounds, and steals a kiss from Jongin.

“What was that for?” Jongin asks, cheeks red.

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re just. You.”

Jongin grabs for the hand Kyungsoo doesn’t have wrapped around his coffee and holds it in his. Kyungsoo just stares at him, feels slightly overwhelmed by what’s happened in such a short time. Maybe you have to fall apart to fall back together, he thinks. Maybe that’s what they needed.

“So,” a voice says, and Kyungsoo’s head swivels so fast he almost gets whiplash. “This is a thing again?”

Junmyeon stands wearing a smirk, his arms folded.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says. “And?”

“No need to get all testy, it was just a question,” Junmyeon says before speaking directly to Jongin. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re just protective of him,” Jongin says.

“Yeah, I am, which is why I’ll tell you this now: you like dancing, right? If you break his heart again, I will break your legs,” Junmyeon says.

“Junmyeon, I swear to god,” Kyungsoo says.

“Message received,” Jongin smiles. “You know, you have all the other leaders fooled. Everyone thinks you’re so nice, but in reality, you’re just scary.”

Junmyeon smirks again.

“See you boys at the final,” he says before sauntering off.

“What’s the event anyway?” Kyungsoo asks. “I forgot to check.”

Jongin grins.

“Soccer,” he says. “And I won’t apologize to you when my Joeys win.”

“Oh, in the alternate universe?” Kyungsoo asks. “Didn’t realize we’d opened that one up yet.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little competitive?” Jongin asks.

“No, never,” Kyungsoo smiles.

❌⭕️

The farewell is as boring as the opening ceremony, if not moreso. Camping wore kids weary, so there’s a stillness that cannot be overcome.

Except for the 407s, who smile and giggle and bounce up and down in their seats waiting to be called forward to accept Best Teamwork for the second year in a row.

They sit to Kyungsoo’s left, Jongin to his right.

“I still can’t believe Leon pulled a Brandi Chastain,” Jongin says, voice low. “You are such a bad influence.”

Kyungsoo bites at a smile, thinking of his little annoying prodigy helicoptering his shirt above his head as he was swamped by his teammates.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Kyungsoo says.

“And my name’s Mia Hamm,” Jongin scoffs. “Congrats, by the way.”

It’s the same way he said it the year before. Nothing underneath it. Nothing mean. Just joy. All Jongin.

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says. “You’ll get us next year.”

“We won’t,” Jongin sighs. “You’re a bunch of cheaters.”

Kyungsoo punches him in the leg, sees Jongin struggle to keep in a laugh, and he feels like he’s won more than just the weekend.

❌⭕️❌⭕️