Archive of Our Own

Kyungsoo knows who’s calling his phone the second the ringtone goes off.

He also knows exactly who has cracked his passcode --even if he doesn’t know how-- and knows the fact that he should change it immediately to prevent this from happening again. Only Baekhyun would go through the effort of breaking into Kyungsoo’s phone just to change his ringtone to call me maybe while inevitably throwing a few ugly selfies into the mix; which is exactly why Kyungsoo groans as he answers.

“What.” Kyungsoo snaps, not even a question as he sits up in bed, squinting into the darkness.

“Hi,” Baekhyun says breathily. “What are you wearing?”

Kyungsoo hangs up.

As Kyungsoo falls back into his pillows, call me maybe starts blasting loud enough to cause a heart attack, and it has him fumbling in his sheets blindly to turn it off.

“Pants?” Baekhyun asks, as Kyungsoo just grunts.

Sighing, he holds up his bedsheet to look beneath them.

“Underwear,” he answers.

“No shirt?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, then realising Baekhyun can’t see him, adds, “No.”

“Ah well, sacrifices must be made,” Baekhyun says faux-sagely, which has Kyungsoo frowning into the darkness of his room, the curtains pulled tightly shut. “I’m coming in.”

Kyungsoo can barely even manage the first w in what before his bedroom door swings wide open, slamming against the opposite wall as the hallway light fills his eyes, causing them to burn. Kyungsoo hisses in pain, holding a hand up against them.

“And they say vampires aren’t real.” Baekhyun says snarkily, walking to the other side of the room to pull the blinds back. Kyungsoo just groans and falls back into his pillows with his eyes screwed shut. “Good morning sleeping beauty.”

Kyungsoo reaches for his phone again, having to turn up the brightness in the sudden light --it’s set to low to prevent his eyes from hurting post-nap for a reason-- and squints at the blurriness of the numbers on the lock screen, with the default wallpaper of a lily he still hasn’t changed mocking him.

“It’s six p.m,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

“Time is a human construct,” Baekhyun replies cheerily. Knowing he’s only fighting a losing battle, Kyungsoo reaches for his glasses on the bedside table, sighing when the room becomes a whole lot clearer. Baekhyun is wearing his going out clothes, which causes Kyungsoo to raise an eyebrow, even if it probably doesn’t bode too well for him. Baekhyun flops onto the end of Kyungsoo’s bed, causing the mattress to creak. “Speaking of human constructs, Chanyeol’s having a bonfire tonight.”

It takes a few extra seconds for Kyungsoo’s post-nap brain to make sense of that segue, as if each syllable is sinking slowly through molasses before it Kyungsoo can even hear it.

“How is that a human construct?” Is the first thing Kyungsoo asks. “Also, you hate Chanyeol.”

“Soo dearie everything we interact with is just a construct society has forced us to accept,” okay, Kyungsoo is way too tired to argue with Baekhyun’s wanky stoner faux-philosophies right now. “And I don’t hate Chanyeol, I just… severely misjudged him.” Baekhyun frowns at the ceiling. “Please put on a shirt by the way, your nipples freak me out.”

Kyungsoo looks down at his torso offendedly before pulling the sheet further up his chest, sighing as he pulls his legs over the edge of the bed and rummages for one of the t-shirts in his bureau. “So by misjudged him you mean he’s a Sehun deal-breaker.”

“Ugh, they’re always together,” Baekhyun immediately groans, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “It’s either put up with him or get lost, but he isn’t… that bad... I guess...” Baekhyun sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he is Kyungsoo, who can only watch as he pulls a shirt over his head, an amused smile across his face. “He’s just kind of pretentious, egotistical, loud and self-centred.” Baekhyun counts off each attribute on his right hand’s fingers, faint look of distaste across his face.

“So…” Kyungsoo pauses. “He’s… you. Basically.”

“Exactly!!!!!” Baekhyun sits up suddenly. “I hate myself for a reason, Soo!!!”

Kyungsoo only rolls his eyes in response to that, picking up his shorts from the floor and pulling them over his legs. “I thought you loved looking in mirrors.”

“I do,” Baekhyun answers easily, meaning Kyungsoo has to suppress his next eye roll or he might make himself blind from how disconnected his eyeballs will get. “But unluckily for Chanyeol, he looks nothing like me.”

How Baekhyun can claim he hates himself one second and then say that the next will never cease to perplex Kyungsoo, but he knows better than to try to make sense out of a human mobius strip.

Instead, Kyungsoo picks his laptop off of the floor as he sits back on the bed. Baekhyun watches him closely before asking, “What’re you doing?”

“Our netflix queue won’t watch itself,” Kyungsoo says flatly, having assumed that’s what Baekhyun was here to annoy him about --he regrets ever showing him where the spare key is kept in the front yard-- causing Baekhyun to let out a condescending chuckle.

“What part of the we in 'we are going to Chanyeol’s bonfire’ wasn’t clear?”

Kyungsoo blinks. “You never mentioned going to the bonfire, you just said it was a human construct.”

“It’s implied!!” Baekhyun argues. “And you can’t wear an oversized weeaboo shirt to a bonfire.”

Kyungsoo looks down at his A:TLA shirt in offense because it’s not fucking anime before giving Baekhyun an unimpressed look.

“I’m not going,” he replies easily. “I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired,” Baekhyun pouts cutely, as if Kyungsoo would ever fall for something like that. “You can’t expect me to go alone, Soo, I hardly know anyone there.”

Social anxiety falls onto Baekhyun the same way rain falls onto the desert --never-- yet still Kyungsoo wavers, because Baekhyun is doing the puppy-dog-eyes thing.

“When has that ever stopped you,” he mutters indignantly, picking at the dried something on top of his keyboard and frowning because he needs to clean it, but that would require actually turning his laptop off.

“C’mon Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun whines. “It will be fun.”

Kyungsoo pointedly ignores him, scrolling through Netflix’s recommendations.

Baekhyun pauses. “I’ll buy your drinks.”

Lo and behold an hour and a bit later Kyungsoo finds himself by the inlet, a strip of beach barred off by throngs of shrubbery that only the most young and foolish of locals know their way through, away from the main road. The sun is beginning to set but the sand still burns between Kyungsoo’s toes as he kicks his flip-flops off and wriggles his feet, Baekhyun looping an arm through his.

“I wanna go swimming,” Baekhyun whines --two drinks in and he’s already acting like a teenager at their first frat party; always the token lightweight. Kyungsoo should have known pres would have been a mistake.

“Drown then,” Kyungsoo replies flatly, which causes Baekhyun to make whiney noises that can barely be registered as human, not even coherent enough to insult him back. Kyungsoo sighs as he realises he’ll have to babysit Baekhyun for the rest of the night, inevitably.

“Hey, you made it,” Sehun says as he approaches, giving this little fond smile that Kyungsoo assumes isn’t really meant for him. (Baekhyun is glowing so brightly Kyungsoo can see the cartoon hearts in his eyes.)

“I said we would didn’t I?” Baekhyun counters, with that little suggestive tug to his lips Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he pulls off quite right. Sehun’s smile just stretches wider. “Although I had to bribe Kyungsoo…” he mumbles, a little bitter.

Kyungsoo holds up his six-pack of expensive beer with a smile. “You got a cooler for these?”

“By the fire pit,” Sehun jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “You need a hand?”

Kyungsoo swallows as he regards the throng of unfamiliar faces huddled by the soon-to-be-lit fire pit, then back at Baekhyun’s hopeful puppy expression, hoping for some alone time with his crush, undoubtedly.   

“I think I can handle carrying a six-pack five metres,” Kyungsoo hesitantly jokes, then gives a reassuring smile as he heads through the sand towards the plastic tubs, filled with gas station bought ice. A quick glance around doesn’t show any of the familiar drink-pinchers Kyungsoo is usually wary of, but it does remind him of just how many people here he doesn’t know. This isn’t the usual crowd of Sehun and Baekhyun’s crew, but a mixed bag of faces Kyungsoo assumes belong to Chanyeol’s usual run-ins. It makes his palms sweat, and he winces as one of the bottles he’d been placing away slips through his fingers, colliding loudly with the ice.

“Y’know, if you’re drinking something fancy you should probably try to hide it a little better,” somebody suddenly says, causing Kyungsoo to flinch, as the stranger just crouches beside him and digs his bottles deeper into the ice until only the caps are showing. He regards the last bottle from the pack with a small chuckle, smiling wryly at Kyungsoo as he dangles it in mid-air. “You from uptown or what?”

“No,” Kyungsoo frowns, snatching the bottle back as his fingertips brush against the stranger’s, digging it into the ice. Deeming it not deep enough, Kyungsoo reaches back to push it in a little further. “I forced my friend to buy them for me as payment for making me come here.”

The stranger just laughs at that, a loud, delighted cackle that has Kyungsoo startled, because really… it’s not that funny.

“I’m Jongdae,” Jongdae introduces, offering out a hand even as he and Kyungsoo still remain crouched by the cooler. Kyungsoo looks at his hand. “It’s called a handshake, it’s something you do when you meet someone?” Jongdae offers, evidently amused from the curl of his lips, the twinkle in his dark eyes.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, but returns the gesture all the same. “Kyungsoo.” He says shortly, squinting a little and refusing to explain away his surprise at someone like… actually wanting to talk to him, or meet him. “Do you make a habit of lurking around ice buckets to meet new people?”

“Only the ones with expensive drinks,” Jongdae winks, which causes Kyungsoo to huff in return; flirty people, honestly. “Then again, I guess your friend is the one who bought the beer… could you point them out to me?”

Kyungsoo shoves Jongdae’s shoulder without even thinking, causing Jongdae to laugh as his hand flies out into the sand to steady himself, standing in time with Kyungsoo.

“Said friend isn’t single,” Kyungsoo comments dryly. Well, Baekhyun is very much single, but he’s so infatuated with Sehun he may as well not be. Plus, Kyungsoo just… wants to keep Jongdae here, for some reason. “So don’t bother.”

“Ah, well, I can always settle for second best,” Jongdae says wistfully, grinning widely and mischievously. He looks like someone who’d be friends with Chanyeol, honestly, with his long, unruly, dark curls and brown skin, tank top and board shorts and those little braided leather bracelets looped around his left wrist. Kyungsoo, in comparison, wearing plain clothing and having no curve to his mouth or glint in his eye, feels dreadfully boring.

“I’m flattered,” Kyungsoo deadpans, Jongdae just laughs far too loudly that it would make Kyungsoo almost self-conscious of his surroundings if he wasn’t so enamoured with the sound.

“How have we never met before now?” Jongdae asks, clearly amused. “I feel like I’d definitely remember if we had.”

It’s about as cheesy and unsubtle as it gets, but Kyungsoo is genuinely stunned for a split-second, wondering if Jongdae is really doing what Kyungsoo thinks he’s doing. This isn’t the comfortable atmosphere of a college party with people he knows or drinks in a controlled space with nothing but friends, this is Kyungsoo thrust into a foreign environment altogether so he’s weirdly flattered and equally as hesitant to be playing Jongdae’s game.

“Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?” Jongdae jokingly asks, gesturing to Sehun and Chanyeol across the beach accordingly, although Kyungsoo isn’t sure of who is meant to be which. Baekhyun is with them too, throat curving as he tips his head back and laughs, a hand resting on Sehun’s bicep.

“Sehun.” Kyungsoo answers curtly, flustered by the way Jongdae holds eye-contact unabashedly. “Friend of a friend,” he quickly corrects.

“Ahh,” Jongdae voices in realisation. “Makes sense why we’ve never met, then.” The ends of his lips curl up. “Unfortunately.”

Kyungsoo just snorts, because Jongdae is laying it on thick. Luckily for Jongdae, Kyungsoo kind of likes things like this to be straightforward --the mess of flirting and dancing around… it just doesn’t work out in the long run. Baekhyun just calls him hard-to-get, but Kyungsoo thinks that’s subjective.

“I also only stay here over the summer,” Kyungsoo adds. He’d grown up in this town, of course, but the social circle hadn’t been wide back then --in fact, the only member of it Kyungsoo keeps around is Baekhyun, purely because childhood friendships are kind of hard to lose-- now he comes home during the break to have his mom coddle him while he picks up work at his aunt’s store.

“Oh, really?” Jongdae replies, moving to sit down by one of the large towels set up on the sand and gesturing for Kyungsoo to join him, who swallows before doing so, figuring that it’s either here or on his own, and Kyungsoo doesn’t like solitude as much as everyone thinks he does. “You study out of state?”

Kyungsoo nods. “You?”

Jongdae shakes his head. “Nope. Art school was good enough here.”

Conversation with Jongdae flows easily, which Kyungsoo appreciates, because he knows he can come off as stilted and awkward, unsure of what to say or what to ask to keep it moving. Evidently Jongdae doesn’t have that problem, always asking questions and quick to change the topic when he feels things are moving too slow or either of them don’t have much more to say. He’s funny and charming in a way that Kyungsoo probably wouldn’t be so endeared by if he didn’t have three beers in his bloodstream, but the alcohol just makes the burn of Jongdae’s palm feel all the more real as he places his hand on Kyungsoo’s thigh, his forearm, around his waist. Jongdae has the subtlety of a brick wall, but Kyungsoo can’t deny that he’s flattered --being flirted with is always a nice feeling, it’s just a matter of working out Jongdae’s angle.

Kyungsoo isn’t exactly socially reclusive, but his experience with things like this are fairly limited to being counted on only one hand. The idea of a hook-up oddly exhilarates him, makes him feel empowered, like he’s breaking a stereotype of himself that he often enjoys breaking, but Jongdae is also player one in this situation, and Kyungsoo wants to make sure he isn’t getting into an unfair game.

The sun sets and Chanyeol finally lights the bonfire as the crowd cheers drunkenly and over-the-top, crowding the space around the pit. The volume steadily raises as the music is turned up and the chatter around them increases, which is when Jongdae takes the opportunity to lean far too close into Kyungsoo’s space to ask if he wants to move somewhere quieter, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

It makes Kyungsoo shudder, but he agrees nonetheless, too tipsy for doubt or hesitation as Baekhyun --still glued to Sehun’s side across the fire pit--makes eye contact with Kyungsoo through the flames, raising an eyebrow. Kyungsoo just gives him a helpless shrug in return, letting Jongdae wind his fingers around his wrist to drag him off into the darkness.

The tides are low and leave the rocky coast wide and open as Jongdae leaps up onto the rocks and holds his arms out comically to balance.

“You’re going to fall and hurt yourself,” Kyungsoo chastises, because Jongdae seems to have a pretty high tolerance but he’s still very much not-sober. Jongdae just laughs, cackling into the night air, echoing in the emptiness of it as Kyungsoo looks back at the bonfire, far behind them.

“Live a little Soo,” Jongdae teases, and then Kyungsoo is sighing as he scrambles up onto the rock, knowing better but being too tipsy to care, slipping slightly and gasping before Jongdae’s hands fall to his waist to steady him, smiling down.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and gently leads Kyungsoo through the darkness, narrating every step and slippery slope. It’s not very far, but there’s a large flat rock between some rock pools that Jongdae dumps himself down onto, gesturing for Kyungsoo to do the same. They both toe their feet into the water, still warm from lying in the sun all day.

The silence is long, but not awkward, as Kyungsoo closes his eyes to the warm breeze that flutters through, the tides curling softly around them.

“So is this what you usually do?” He asks, because Kyungsoo doesn’t mind the silence, but he does like hearing Jongdae talk, cracking an eye open to regard his face in the darkness. It certainly isn’t what Kyungsoo usually does --coming to parties filled with people he doesn’t know only to flirt with mysterious boys all night, but he doesn’t hate it. “Have strangers fall in love with you only to lead them away in the darkness to their rocky doom?”

Jongdae cackles at that, leaning forward to regard Kyungsoo with a smirk. “Why? Are you falling in love with me?” He teases, expression clear under the light of the moon and stars. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“No,” he answers easily. “But I’m curious, does smiling at lost strangers work out as much as you clearly think it does?”

Jongdae snorts at that, leaning back on one palm lazily. “It worked on you, didn’t it?” He tilts his chin, and it’s so cocky , oddly aggravating. Kyungsoo knew from the second he’d seen Jongdae that Jongdae was one of those types of guys, the ones that are all arrogance beneath smooth charm that pick out their targets without batting an eyelash. Usually Kyungsoo finds such fuckboys irksome and irritating, but Jongdae is okay, he supposes --it’s just a matter of whether Kyungsoo feels like inflating his ego or not.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Kyungsoo relents, staring at the horizon line idly. “Doesn’t wasting all your time on one person seem kind of fruitless?” Because yeah, Jongdae has definitely been flirty, but Kyungsoo isn’t the most reciprocal of people --at least, not at the very start. It’s almost admirable Jongdae has wasted so much time on Kyungsoo --Kyungsoo really doesn’t think he’s worth it.

“The night’s not over yet,” Jongdae continues, with that continuous, aggravating curve to his mouth, leaning forward into Kyungsoo’s space. “I might still get something good out of it.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, but then he puts his bottle down on the rock behind him and uses his freehand to tug Jongdae forward by his shirt and wipe that smug curl off of Jongdae’s lips by kissing him, sighing in contentment as his lips tingle at the contact, giving in to the inevitable tension that has been slowly building. The kiss is sloppy and tastes too much like alcohol, but Jongdae at least doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way he pries Kyungsoo’s mouth open, a palm resting on the side of his face, humming in a pleased tone. Part of Kyungsoo feels ridiculous making out with a stranger in the darkness on the beach, but part of him doesn’t care, flattered with the attention and happy to be doing something fun, something to fill the empty time in this boring dead end town that isn’t watching movies or being bothered by Baekhyun.

“There’s something good,” Kyungsoo says as he pulls back, slightly breathless, forehead pressed against Jongdae’s.

“Actually,” Jongdae’s lips twitch --god they’re so infuriating; Kyungsoo hates that mouth. “I was thinking of something better.”

Jongdae leans back coolly at that, and Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, slightly taken aback, but oddly considering the preposition too. It’s been too long since he’s had a good fuck, it could be refreshing.

Kyungsoo snorts into the night air. “That’s pretty forward of you,” he points out.

Jongdae shrugs unapologetically. “Why not? It’ll be fun.” He leans closer, voice dropping an octave. “There’s no fun in playing games if you already know all the rules.”

Kyungsoo huffs out a dry laugh, but Jongdae is right, Kyungsoo exactly know how things like this work. How many men and women have Jongdae seduced back into his bed, Kyungsoo has no way of knowing, but what’s more curious is how many of them have added to Jongdae’s ego, because it’s far larger than it probably needs to be. Not that Kyungsoo is bothered by it, honestly --in a way it’s just kind of funny.

“Alright,” Kyungsoo agrees, because it’s nice to know he can get into something that’s so clear-cut and defined. Nothing worse than a one-night stand who gets a little too clingy.

Jongdae’s smile is victorious as he pulls Kyungsoo to his feet. “My place or yours?”

Kyungsoo thinks about his mom and aunt back home as Jongdae’s fingers curl around his wrist, internally wincing. “Definitely yours.”

They walk back up the beach together, as Jongdae cracks a joke about being too eager and Kyungsoo laughs before he can stop himself, giggling. The fire illuminates Jongdae’s giddy grin in the darkness but Kyungsoo still catches Baekhyun giving an incredulous look at him as he and Jongdae march up the sand.

Kyungsoo just gives another helpless shrug; Baekhyun mouths go get ‘em tiger .

“I should’ve grabbed my other beers... “ Kyungsoo muses, as Jongdae interlaces their fingers and leads him back towards town. The beach isn’t far from the university town where Jongdae lives, or so he’d explained. “What a waste of Baekhyun’s money.”

Jongdae laughs too loudly in the empty night air, echoing around the sleeping streets. “Don’t worry, I’m sure a drink-snatcher’s already onto them.”

“Probably,” Kyungsoo agrees, a little sad, and then Jongdae surprises him by cupping his cheek suddenly and kissing him, right there in the middle of the street. Kyungsoo blinks, stunned. “What was that for?”

“Because I can~” Jongdae sing-songs, and Kyungsoo moves to punch him but… stops, for some reason, letting his fist fall back down.

Jongdae re-intertwines their hands and happily talks about what living in the university town is like as if he and Kyungsoo aren’t going back to his place specifically to have sex. God, Kyungsoo’s stomach goes a little nervous at the thought; it’s been a while, but Jongdae makes him feel comfortable, familiar. Hopefully it’s fun.

Jongdae’s apartment is freakishly clean for a college student’s place; Kyungsoo’s surprise must show.

“My roommate actually has his life together,” Jongdae explains, dropping his keys into a nearby bowl. “I promise you I’m much more of a mess than this.”

Kyungsoo gives Jongdae a pointed once-over. “I can believe that.”

Jongdae just laughs as if he hadn’t been roasted, and moves forward to kiss Kyungsoo, smiling against his mouth. Jongdae must really like kissing.

“Did you wanna watch a movie or skip to the good stuff?” Jongdae waggles his eyebrows, as Kyungsoo just huffs.

“‘Good stuff’,” Kyungsoo mockingly quotes in lieu of an answer, and leans forward to kiss Jongdae again, because Kyungsoo really likes kissing too. Besides, Jongdae is oddly good at it, slow and attentive, adjusting to the pace Kyungsoo sets. It’s… nice.

“Is your roommate home?” Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the two doors that sit side-by-side --the one littered with stickers and tacky keep out signs is the one he’s pretty fucking sure is Jongdae’s.

“Nope,” Jongdae grins, curling his fingers through the belt loops on Kyungsoo’s shorts. “Visiting parents over the weekend, so feel free to scream my name as loudly as you’d like.”

“Ha,” Kyungsoo says dryly, and then pushes Jongdae back until he’s slammed against his own bedroom door, aggressively kissing him --presumptuous of Jongdae to assume Kyungsoo will be the one screaming. Kyungsoo is already growing hard but he’s glad he can feel Jongdae’s own digging into his thigh, enjoying the little moan he lets out when Kyungsoo rolls his hips ever so slightly. Jongdae is so cocky and arrogant, so sure of himself; Kyungsoo can’t wait to break every single inch of that.

Jongdae manages to blindly find the door handle and they tumble through, breaking apart. Kyungsoo has to take in a short moment just to look at Jongdae’s room as he flicks on the lamp and jumps onto the bed, the Star Wars posters and others from bands he doesn’t recognise, canvas photographs of beaches and forests lined up neatly next to one another, an entire shelf dedicated to little Iron Man figurines right next to the one of comic books.

“Cute,” Kyungsoo remarks, turning to admire the strange, colourful paintings hung up on one wall. “Did you paint these?”

“Yep,” Jongdae replies easily. “Do you like them?”

“They’re really great,” Kyungsoo comments, because he loves the bending shapes of colour that splash across them, similar to waves crashing along the shore. His answer must shock Jongdae, because he’s oddly quiet for once, just looking at Kyungsoo in anticipation, almost. It makes Kyungsoo feel indescribably brave as he shuts the bedroom door just in case, walking towards the edge of the bed. Jongdae just watches him the whole time, lying down on his back but propped up on his elbows, eyes dark and excited.

Without saying a word, Kyungsoo just crawls forward until he’s on top of him, and kisses Jongdae, slowly, enjoying the way his breath inhales sharply before their lips meet and the fact that Jongdae opens up for him, just like that. His muscles flex and tense as Kyungsoo runs his fingers down his body and everything about Jongdae is just so responsive, so sensitive, Kyungsoo is suddenly overwhelmed with a burning amount of lust he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“We,” Kyungsoo breathes out, panting, because kissing Jongdae had taken more out of him than he would have liked it to. “Need to get more naked.”

Jongdae’s grin is downright devious. “Agreed.”

Jongdae makes pretty quick work of his own shirt while Kyungsoo sits up to do the same, allowing Jongdae to sit up beneath him so he can kiss Kyungsoo’s abdomen, running his tongue down his navel. Oh fuck, Kyungsoo swallows and squeezes his eyes shut as his fingers wind through Jongdae’s hair, having to resist the animalistic urge to push his head down a little further to get his tongue exactly where he wants it.

Jongdae just smiles slyly up at him like he knows exactly what Kyungsoo is thinking, and his hands make quick work of Kyungsoo’s button and fly, tugging down the material a little so he can mouth at his dick through his underwear. Kyungsoo’s hips buck just at the sensation of wet and warmth and it would almost be embarrassing if Jongdae hadn’t groaned into it, like maybe getting Kyungsoo off gets him off even more.

Fuck.

“Can I…?” Jongdae’s fingers skirt around Kyungsoo’s waistband in an unfinished question, and Kyungsoo nods so quickly it must come off a little too eager, judging by Jongdae’s shit-eating grin. “Probably a bad time to ask but, you’re clean, right? I know I am, and I hate the taste of latex, soooo...”

Kyungsoo snorts at Jongdae asking this with his mouth an inch away from Kyungsoo’s dick. “Yes.”

“Safety first!!” He happily exclaims, and then tugs off Kyungsoo’s underwear and wraps his mouth around his dick.  

Kyungsoo gasps at the sudden contact, and his hand immediately flies to Jongdae’s hair, fingers winding through it perhaps too tightly --but Jongdae certainly doesn’t seem to mind, humming around Kyungsoo happily so much so that he shudders at the vibrations. Jongdae’s mouth is just as teasing around Kyungsoo’s dick as it had been kissing him, tongue swirling around the head as he springs up and down, back and forth, moving so far down Kyungsoo is pretty sure he’ll hit the back of Jongdae’s throat before he pulls back just in time, mouth leaving altogether and bringing up a hand to stroke Kyungsoo lazily while his lips ghost over the head, leaving small licks every now and then.

Fuck, he’s driving Kyungsoo crazy, but his body is so busy buzzing he can’t berate Jongdae with much more than a breathless whine and a light tug to his hair, causing Jongdae’s rhythm to falter as he huffs out a little laugh, pants of hot breath right against Kyungsoo’s dick like the teasing asshole Jongdae is.

Eventually Jongdae ups his pace so it involves less hands and more mouth --luckily for Kyungsoo-- and Kyungsoo is reduced to a huffing mess as Jongdae looks up at him from beneath his long eyelashes, hands on either side of Kyungsoo’s thighs as he bends over between his legs, and maintains eye contact as he slides all the way to the base, a hand sneaking away to palm at his own dick to relieve some pressure, because apparently Jongdae is getting off to this as much as Kyungsoo is.

“Jesus Christ,” Kyungsoo somehow manages, both an exclaim of surprise and a curse as his dick jerks with precome, and Jongdae just slowly brings his head back up and swallows, clearing his throat a little.

“Just call me Jongdae,” he jokes, hastily wiping away the saliva from the corners of his lips, and Kyungsoo has to deal with being turned on from the croak of his voice while also removing the hand from Jongdae’s hair to flick him in the forehead. Kyungsoo’s dick is hard and aching in front of Jongdae’s face and he has the audacity to pull back until he’s sitting on his heels, laughing while rubbing at his forehead, where a red mark now sits.

“As much as I’d love for you to come down my throat,” he starts matter-of-factly, as if those words alone don’t turn Kyungsoo red instantly, ignoring the way his ears burn. There’s no point of getting sheepish during sex, he knows, but he can’t exactly help it sometimes. “There’s a lot less you screaming my name than I anticipated.”

He was serious about that? Kyungsoo huffs in amusement.

“I know you’re probably used to people faking it for you,” Kyungsoo teases, unable to help but grin sharply at the offended scoff Jongdae lets out. “But I keep an honest policy.”

“So I’ve learnt…” Jongdae replies wryly, and his hand absentmindedly trails up Kyungsoo’s thigh, Kyungsoo unable to do anything but watch its movements as it edges closer and closer to his dick before it trails back down, and Kyungsoo releases a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in a disappointed hiss between his teeth. Jongdae just smirks, the fucker. “... Pretty hard to fake this, though.”

At that his hand wraps back around Kyungsoo’s dick, and his eyes flutter shut, hips jerking to create friction; Jongdae isn’t moving it, just leaving his fingers encircled around the width, and Kyungsoo is so desperate --

--Jongdae lets go, and Kyungsoo glares at him, meaning Jongdae lets out a high-pitched cackle in sadistic delight.

“What I was going to say before your ‘honesty policy’ unfairly insulted me--” Jongdae retries, canines poking out from where the curves of his lips are even more upturned, eyes dark as he looks at Kyungsoo. “--is to whether I can fuck you or not.”

“I don’t know, can you?” Kyungsoo asks, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge.

“What are you? A high school teacher?” Jongdae snorts. “ May I fuck you, Kyungsoo?”

“Not what I was asking,” Kyungsoo says, all too aware of the way his heart is pounding in his chest and trying to ignore it so he can keep the upper hand here. Jongdae just pauses, tilting his head in careful assessment as he regards Kyungsoo from behind narrowed eyes.

“Only one way to find out,” he says slyly, and Kyungsoo shrugs as he leans back until he’s sitting up on his elbows, waiting. “As much as you’re giving me a lot of inviting body language right now, that’s a yes, right?” Jongdae asks.

Kyungsoo laughs despite himself, and his heart’s pounding goes off-beat for a second because Jongdae’s concern is… cute. Cute, and touching.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo confirms, laughing softly. “Feel free to prove me wrong.”

“Yes sir,” Jongdae says, as if replying to a teacher dutifully, and Kyungsoo fixes him with a flat look, just causing Jongdae to burst into laughter as always while he stands up off the bed, shimmying his jeans off before moving to the nightstand, rummaging around before pulling out a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom packet, tossing them onto the bed between Kyungsoo’s thighs, landing with a soft bounce. Kyungsoo only watches him, impatient, and as Jongdae’s hands reach out to take his underwear off Kyungsoo stops them as he quickly leans over the bed, sliding off and falling to his knees in front of Jongdae.

“Fuck,” Jongdae says, chest heaving in anticipation.

Kyungsoo’s lips twitch, Jongdae’s dick is hard, growing harder even now with just Kyungsoo’s face in front of it, but it’s not quite there, probably having died off a little somewhere between Kyungsoo flicking him and the mention of high school.

Not to worry, Kyungsoo knows how to fix it, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking, rubbing his tongue along the underside as he does so, moving his head back and forth a little, hand making up for the distance he can’t compensate for unlike Jongdae and his deepthroating skills.

“Shit, stop,” Jongdae breathes out, a hand in Kyungsoo’s short hair to tug him back, panting. “I’m… I need to prove you wrong.”

“Not come down my throat?” Kyungsoo asks, tilting his head as he repeats the words from before; Jongdae just shudders.

“Not right now, no,” Jongdae confirms, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly, licking his lips greedily. “Come on.”

He helps Kyungsoo stand and then sits on the bed, patting his thighs in gesture for Kyungsoo to straddle him --which Kyungsoo does so with a sardonic eye-roll, straddling across Jongdae’s lap. Jongdae just gives him a sunny smile that causes Kyungsoo to falter and feel a little bad for the eye-roll before he crooks Kyungsoo’s chin towards him and kisses him, open-mouthed but sweet, oddly slow despite everything else and where both their mouths have been, completely uncaring.

Kyungsoo’s so busy focusing on the feeling of Jongdae’s mouth against his own the feeling of a finger behind him surprises him somewhat, circling the rim gently as Kyungsoo just reaches around to shove Jongdae’s fingers further in, causing Jongdae to moan against his mouth immediately. In this position, Kyungsoo can rock back onto Jongdae’s fingers while rocking forward against his dick, wrapping a dry hand around them both just to give some form of friction as they grind against one another, Jongdae’s breathing increasing as he does so.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he breathes out, and Kyungsoo doesn’t have a retort for that, just blinking down at Jongdae as he feels his ears burn, damn it . Jongdae is looking back up at him with something Kyungsoo can’t decipher, so he greedily grinds down onto Jongdae’s hand, fucking himself on Jongdae’s fingers, to prove a point.

“Hurry up,” Kyungsoo says pointedly, the threat somewhat dislodged by the brokenness of his voice, still trying to catch his breath.

“What’s the rush?” Jongdae teases, and pointedly glances down at their dicks between them. “Your balls aren’t blue yet.”

Kyungsoo makes an exasperated noise and Jongdae just grins at him, reaching across for the condom, laughing when Kyungsoo loses balance and Jongdae has to steady him with a hand around his waist.

Kyungsoo, laughing somewhat nervously too, moves to get out of Jongdae’s lap, but his hands keep him in place.

“Where are you going?” Jongdae asks teasingly, and quickly rolls the condom down as he pats the tops of his thighs patronisingly again and Kyungsoo thinks, oh.

“Thought you were showing me how it’s done,” he says slyly. Jongdae shrugs unapologetically.

“That can come later,” he replies, and grins. “Ha, double entendre.”

Kyungsoo scoffs as Jongdae keeps smiling, but hesitates because Jongdae expects himself to last that long? Fine. Kyungsoo isn’t sure if he wants to laugh at the preposterous prospect or moan .

It’s been a little while since Kyungsoo has last had sex --like this, at least-- luckily Jongdae is plenty accommodating as Kyungsoo slowly sinks down Jongdae’s dick, then lifts up again, steadily building a careful  rhythm. The only crack in Jongdae’s ready composure Kyungsoo gets is a sharp inhale as his mouth parts and a groan at the back of his throat, eyes holding Kyungsoo’s gaze unabashedly.

It’s pretty easy to get a solid grind after that, as Kyungsoo moves slowly in little circles and Jongdae’s hips buck to follow every movement. It feels so fucking good, Kyungsoo thinks as he tips his head back and Jongdae takes the opportunity to nip at his throat, meaning Kyungsoo lets out a startled groan, but it’s not enough . Jongdae has kept him high-strung for too long now, pulling him back from the brink of release to drag this out, and Kyungsoo appreciates the act of sex, really, he does, but he’d really just like to fucking come about now.

“Please,” Kyungsoo exhales, surprised at the desperation in his voice, and Jongdae simply pauses against his neck, drawing back and watching Kyungsoo’s tipped face with dark eyes. Kyungsoo expects a smirk or another laugh, but all he gets is Jongdae kissing him gently as he pulls out to push Kyungsoo back onto the bed beneath him, keeping himself elevated on a single arm beside Kyungsoo’s head.

Kyungsoo watches Jongdae swallow with bated breath, and it only turns into a moan as Jongdae leans down to kiss him and push in in a single movement, bottoming out immediately in a way that has Kyungsoo gasping against Jongdae’s lips.

The rocking of his hips is steady at first, but it grows in tempo as Kyungsoo’s hands desperately grasp onto Jongdae’s shoulders just for something to hold onto, nails raking across the bare skin hard enough to leave marks. Soon enough Jongdae is fucking Kyungsoo hard and fast, the headboard banging into the wall behind him, and it’s all Kyungsoo can do but to moan into Jongdae’s mouth, overwhelmed by the sensations cascading throughout his body. His skin is too hot, yet all he can seem to feel is Jongdae between his legs, against his mouth, skin pressed to his chest.

But Jongdae isn’t making any move to touch Kyungsoo, and it’s driving him crazy, a hand sneaking between their bodies in an attempt to jerk himself off only to have Jongdae’s fingers curling around his wrist and pinning it to the bed beside Kyungsoo’s head.

“Not yet,” Jongdae warns, and Kyungsoo’s breathing grows even shorter at the deeper sound of his voice. Jongdae smiles lopsidedly down at him, and the illusion breaks. “Maybe once you start screaming.”

Kyungsoo laughs reluctantly, Jongdae’s pace having slowed down somewhat at the break of concentration.

“That’s cheating,” Kyungsoo points out.

“Oh, I didn’t realise being the best fuck of your life came with a rulebook,” Kyungsoo narrows his eyes as Jongdae just gives a boyish grin, fingers tightening around Kyungsoo’s wrist ever so slightly. There are beads of sweat along his temple and down his chest, face flushed in exertion and arms shaking every now and then, but Jongdae isn’t giving up in the slightest.

“Best fuck of my life would end with me coming within the next century,” Kyungsoo says, because his silence had been growing to be too telling. Jongdae just snickers.

“Like you’re not enjoying this,” he counters, a gives a pointed thrust to prove a point, one that has Kyungsoo biting back a strangled moan as the hand pinned beneath Jongdae’s clenches desperately, white-knuckled. Jongdae chuckles condescendingly in a way that comes off stuttered with the way he’s panting, leaning down with his lips against Kyungsoo’s ear. “That’s what I thought.”

Kyungsoo grunts, frustrated, hating Jongdae’s cocky smirk and attitude and smug everything but it’s not… exactly unfounded, damn it.

Eventually Jongdae lets go of Kyungsoo’s wrist so he can twist his hands into the sheets and try not to moan, failing miserably as he can’t help but let out pathetic ah s at the way Jongdae fucks him, hard and unapologetic and setting Kyungsoo’s nerves on fire, building.

Until he suddenly just stops, and Kyungsoo instantly hisses, “ What the fuck. ”

Jongdae falters. “Uh,” he swallows. “The condom broke?”

Kyungsoo stares at him. “Un-fucking-believable,” he says, unable to keep the sheer awe from his voice because Jongdae had really created so much friction that-- wow. “Well, who cares? I’m not exactly getting pregnant.”

Jongdae barely manages to stop himself from falling onto Kyungsoo with his sudden burst of laughter.

“I can get another--” he starts, and Kyungsoo bites his cheek.

“I mean,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

Jongdae just stares down at him.

“Holy fuck,” is all he says, and Kyungsoo has to giggle at that one, a weird sort of noise he probably would never make in any circumstance that wasn’t him in the middle of having sex. “Have I mentioned you’re super hot? If not a health and safety hazard.”

“Once or twice,” Kyungsoo mumbles reluctantly, since he can’t avoid replying to the compliment, ears burning. Jongdae smiles down at him.

“You’re also super cute,” he coos, causing Kyungsoo to glare at him. “How you are both simultaneously I’ll never understand--”

“Jongdae.”

Kyungsoo looks at him.

“Always so impatient,” Jongdae mutters, as if this isn’t getting to him either. He makes quick work of the useless condom, throwing it into the wastebasket by his desk and wincing when it misses, causing Kyungsoo to laugh as Jongdae just wrinkles his nose and reaches for more lube, slicking himself up again and thrusting in without warning, Kyungsoo clenching his jaw stubbornly in an attempt to stay quiet.

Jongdae just grins like he knows how fucking hard this is for Kyungsoo, and quickly resumes the previous pace, a strangled noise escaping Kyungsoo’s lips as his thighs clench around Jongdae’s waist in an attempt to get him deeper . It feels a little different without the barrier between them, hotter, closer, Kyungsoo doesn’t understand it, has never tried barebacking before, but clearly Jongdae can feel the difference too --probably more than Kyungsoo can-- with the way he’s grunting, his hands fisting the sheets.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and then kisses Kyungsoo, fast and hot and desperate, hips thrusting erratically.

Finally, Kyungsoo thinks, and lets out the tiniest needy, “ Jongdae ,” against Jongdae’s mouth as he threads a hand through Jongdae’s hair to pull him closer, deepen the kiss. Jongdae groans, loudly and unabashed, and Kyungsoo can feel his dick jerk with precome, surprised by the sensation inside him. Jongdae’s hand moves between their bodies, wrapping around Kyungsoo’s dick, and he practically sobs at the sensation, having almost forgotten just how neglected he’d begun to feel, the friction of Jongdae’s warm, smooth palm, slick with lube, almost too much after so much of nothing .

“Jongdae--” Kyungsoo moans again, desperate, broken, and Jongdae’s hand quickens its pace, pushing him to the edge. Jongdae gasps against the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, fucking into him desperately.

“Beautiful,” he pants against Kyungsoo’s skin, mouthing at mindlessly, so quiet Kyungsoo feels like he’s imagined things. “So fucking beautiful.”

Kyungsoo makes a reluctant noise that somewhat turns into a moan and then Jongdae is coming inside him, hot and fast, filling him in a way Kyungsoo has never experienced before, and apparently that’s all it takes as Jongdae’s hand doesn’t falter and Kyungsoo bites back a sharp cry as he comes between their chests so hard his whole body tenses, messy and sticky, with Jongdae immediately pulling out, Kyungsoo wincing at the cum that seeps out with him.

“ Hooooollly shit,” Jongdae exclaims as he falls onto the bed beside Kyungsoo, staring at the ceiling, chest heaving. It’s all Kyungsoo can do but to join him, laughing nervously.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees, out of breath, and now that he’s just had the most intense orgasm of maybe ever, bathing in the afterglow and silence, he suddenly becomes aware of his discomfort, the lube and come both dripping between his thighs, drying on his chest, sweaty and overheating. Kyungsoo grimaces. “Can I… shower?”

Jongdae looks at him, blinking, then seems to snap back to reality as he quickly says, “Yeah yeah of course!” Standing up as Kyungsoo moves slower to follow him, wincing at the cramp in his legs and the soreness of his muscles --everything is probably going to hurt in the morning, but Kyungsoo can’t say it hadn’t been worth it. Jongdae pads out to the living room as Kyungsoo timidly follows, arms crossed over his body, worried Jongdae’s roommate will magically come home at one a.m on a Saturday --err, Sunday-- and Jongdae grabs two fluffy brown towels before opening the bathroom door, gesturing for Kyungsoo to follow.

“The tap’s a little weird,” he says sheepishly, crouching in front of it to show Kyungsoo how to use it, and Kyungsoo just swallows as he tries to cover his body in all the light, Jongdae so completely unbothered by his own nudity. His tanned skin just looks weirdly glistening with all the sweat, his muscles refined and toned in a way Kyungsoo had felt with his hands earlier, and by comparison Kyungsoo just feels a little too pale where he has obvious t-shirt lines, a little too chubby everywhere else.

“If you need anything just yell,” Jongdae says from the doorway as Kyungsoo awkwardly stands on the bathmat, waiting for him to leave. “Not that you like yelling, obviously, but.”

Kyungsoo glares at him for that and Jongdae laughs, Kyungsoo finally turning to step under the water as he drops his towel but pausing when he realises the bathroom door isn’t shut yet.

“What?” He asks over his shoulder, noticing the way Jongdae’s eyes are dark and watching the still-drying trails of come that have seeped down Kyungsoo’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Jongdae says sweetly with a smile as he snaps out of his reverie, rushing out of the bathroom, and Kyungsoo smiles unabashedly behind the shower curtain to the relaxing stream of hot water, knowing Jongdae can’t see it.

Feeling cleaner, Kyungsoo swaps places with Jongdae as he pads back to his bedroom to find his clothes, rummaging amongst Jongdae’s thrown items for his t-shirt and shorts. They smell like alcohol and cigarettes and are still covered in a bit of sand from the beach; Kyungsoo grimaces before he can stop himself.

“Here,” Jongdae laughs softly as he reenters, toweling at his hair with one hand as he lazily walks over to his chest of drawers, his other pink towel wrapped firmly around his waist. Kyungsoo just holds his clothes closer against his chest in an attempt to hide himself further. “I can at least give you something clean to sleep in.”

Sleep in? Kyungsoo blinks. He’d assumed he was just going to go home but-- well, if Jongdae’s offering, it’ll save Kyungsoo having to pay for an Uber since he can just catch a bus tomorrow, and it is late… he’s tired.

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo answers sheepishly as Jongdae gives him an oversized Naruto t-shirt and pyjama shorts with monkeys printed on them. Kyungsoo sheepishly turns around to change and feels a little bit ridiculous as the tshirt hangs down to his mid-thighs, but he manages to finish in time to watch Jongdae pull off his towel to tug on a pair of boxers and nothing else. Fuck he has a nice ass, Kyungsoo inwardly scowls at the thought.

“Like what you see?” Jongdae teases as he catches Kyungsoo watching, who can only feel his ears burn in retaliation.

“It’s okay I guess,” he replies noncommittally, and Jongdae laughs as he steps forward and kisses Kyungsoo’s forehead, causing his brain to short circuit as Jongdae just lazily yawns and flops onto the bed --sheets having been changed while Kyungsoo had showered-- pulling the thin sheet over him.

“Turn on the fan when you turn off the lights,” Jongdae sleepily mumbles, and Kyungsoo is still standing where Jongdae had kissed his forehead in sheer disbelief that any of this is really happening. Huh.

“Yes master,” he replies sardonically, and it gets a little, lazy laugh out of Jongdae as Kyungsoo does as he’s told, discarding his contacts in the wastebasket by the desk, and then takes the other spot on the queen bed, tucking his body under the sheet.

“‘Night Soo,” Jongdae yawns, and it’s way too hot for cuddling in the middle of summer, seriously, but he still throws an arm over Kyungsoo’s chest and tugs him closer, breathing hot air against his shoulder, and somehow, Kyungsoo can’t even find the willpower to push him away.

Kyungsoo wakes up too hot and sticky and immediately grimaces at the way Jongdae is spooning him from behind right now, the sheet twisted and discarded between their bodies. The clock on the nightstand reads three minutes past eleven, and Kyungsoo grunts as he squints to make the letters out, room still smelling like sex and mouth tasting like a mix of beer and come.

At his disgruntled noise, Jongdae stirs, and nuzzles against the back of Kyungsoo’s neck that has him suppressing a shiver, even if it feels like it’s a billion degrees, the ceiling fan doing nothing to deter the heat of two bodies in the middle of summer.

“You’re finally awake,” Jongdae yawns, rolling over onto his back and stretching lazily like a cat as Kyungsoo just sits up, holding his head.

“How long have you been up?” He asks, standing to try and make out his shorts in the darkness so he can find his glasses case, snapping it open and blinking as he puts the frames on and suddenly can see clearly again.

Jongdae hums, the sheet curled around his calves. “Not long, but I was fine to cuddle you while you couldn’t bite me for it.”

Kyungsoo glares at him for that, and Jongdae just laughs far too loudly for so early in the morning. Okay so it’s nearly noon, but Kyungsoo is a college student on summer break, sue him.

“That’s a lot less threatening with glasses,” Jongdae tells him, and then stands as he rolls his shoulders, stepping forward to boop the end of Kyungsoo’s nose. “Cute.”

Kyungsoo snaps his teeth at Jongdae’s hand just to make Jongdae laugh because it’s proving his point, and even though Kyungsoo feels sweaty and groggy and all round gross, he still finds it within himself to smile.

“I meant to do groceries yesterday but didn’t,” Jongdae starts conversationally as he gets dressed, another tank top and board shorts combo that makes Kyungsoo wonder if he cut off all the sleeves on his shirts so he could show off his toned arms and make Kyungsoo specifically suffer. “Wanna come to breakfast with me? I’m starving.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth for an excuse because sleeping over at your one night stand’s place is pretty standard, but going out to breakfast with them--

“My treat,” Jongdae offers.

Which is how Kyungsoo ends up at some hipster cafe in the outskirts of the university town, squinting at how many items there are on the menu and how odd the combination of food items is. He really ought to stop falling for the trap of hanging out with people when they offer to pay for things but Kyungsoo is a broke ass fucking uni student, who can blame him? He can’t deny that he’s starving anyway, and hanging out with Jongdae is… nice.

“What’re you gonna have?” Jongdae asks conversationally as he flicks through the bazillion pages. The whole cafe is all chic and modern and a little overpriced, if you ask Kyungsoo, and Jongdae doesn’t look like he belongs here with his piercings and leather bracelets but somehow the fact that he probably enjoys eating pretentious hipster food doesn’t surprise Kyungsoo. (Not that Kyungsoo doesn’t enjoy eating it either, though.)

“Something sweet, probably,” Kyungsoo answers, trying to choose between the french toast or the pancakes, both of which come with a ludicrous amount of sides. Kyungsoo always wants sweets after a night out; cravings for carbs or something, he supposes. “What should I get?”

He leans across the table to point out the two items, refusing to read their pretentious, pun-y names out loud, and Jongdae just shrugs as he says, “We can get both and go half-half?”

It’s a good enough plan for Kyungsoo, and Jongdae orders them both some fruit smoothie thing which he promises Kyungsoo will love which they sip happily while Jongdae idly talks about how much he and his friends come to this place, emptying out their wallets for the sake of good food. The drink is sweet and tastes like strawberries and cinnamon as Kyungsoo listens attentively, at the animated way Jongdae talks, the way his mouth stretches, the movement of his fingers through his hair as he brushes the long curly strands back. He really is so fucking beautiful, it actively annoys Kyungsoo, and causes him to angrily slurp on his drink even harder.

Conversation flows easily from there, to Jongdae’s life at uni to Kyungsoo’s own experience on the other coast, from how he deals from missing the sunshine and beach to Jongdae’s surfing hobby, as he admits he could never live anywhere that didn’t have sun and waves all year long --which makes sense to Kyungsoo, because Jongdae is a human embodiment of eternal summer, but he doesn’t say that part out loud.

Kyungsoo isn’t sure if it’s the intimacy of sex opening him up or if it’s just how Jongdae is but it’s so easy to talk around him, so easy to be unreserved and honest. Jongdae isn’t put off by any of Kyungsoo’s dry remarks, or the way he fumbles over words sometimes, he even laughs at his lame jokes, and well, honestly, Kyungsoo’s kind of basking in the attention a little too much --it feels like Jongdae is way too out of his league, which is how he knows this is going to hurt more when he grows bored of Kyungsoo.

That’s a sobering thought, causing Kyungsoo to look at the mason jar his drink had been served into with a little frown; Jongdae’s a one-night stand, he needs to remember, nothing more comes after this.

Their food is served with the french toast on Kyungsoo’s side and the stack of berry-compote covered pancakes on Jongdae’s, a small scoop of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with shredded coconut sitting right at the top.

Kyungsoo’s mouth waters, instantly picking up his cutlery, all before Jongdae suddenly says, “Wait.”

Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows, but then Jongdae is pulling out his phone and he rolls his eyes fondly as he asks, “Really?”

“Food is art too,” Jongdae replies petulantly as he leans back in his seat to snap a picture of the two plates, then cheekily looks at Kyungsoo as he brings his phone up and takes a picture of his amused, disbelieving face too, which Kyungsoo blinks at before he can register what’s just happened.

“Hey,” he says threateningly, narrowing his eyes, and all Jongdae does is giggle.

“What? It’ll be a good display picture, here.” He holds out his phone on a blank contact page accordingly, as Kyungsoo huffs at the photo of him looking at something beyond the lens with an odd look of amusement and exasperation on his face, delicious food laid out in front. He thinks to delete it --could do it, really, with Jongdae’s phone in his hands like this-- but he doesn’t. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what Jongdae wants with his number, and it’s that exact thought that has him hesitating, thumbs resting above the keypad.

He looks at Jongdae warily, and Jongdae just laughs again.

“I promise I’m not asking you to marry me,” he assures, lips curled. “But you’re fun to hang out with.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know if Jongdae means hang out as something that involves them getting naked or not, but so long as this is something that remains platonic than Kyungsoo has no reserves about it, entering his digits accordingly and handing the phone back over.

Kyungsoo’s phone buzzes in his back pocket with what he assumes is a text from Jongdae, and he idly pulls it out to see the little :3 Jongdae has sent him, rolling his eyes. There’s a whole heap of notifications from Baekhyun though, and Kyungsoo sighs as he opens up to read them.

[12:04 am] lmk how ur night was ;)

[12:24 am] ksoo

[12:46 am] ksooooooooo

[1:01 am] R u even alive??

[1:13 am] Did chanyeol’s friend murder u??

[1:27 am] was the dick SO GOOD that u died????

[1:33 am] im calling the police to handle ur missing person’s report.

[11:33 am] I’m alive, but send me one more stupid text and you won’t be.

The response is instantaneous.

[11:33 am] i care about u and this is how u repay me….

Kyungsoo puts his phone away after that, pointedly ignoring Baekhyun’s follow up question as to whether he’s still with Chanyeol’s hot friend or not, and gives Jongdae a timid, “Sorry, Baekhyun will make me suffer if I don’t reply.”

Jongdae just grins charmingly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving his hands. He holds up his phone screen, open on a new post for instagram. “You have any caption ideas, though?”

Kyungsoo makes a very quiet, strangled noise that’s somewhere between a choked off laugh and a groan of embarrassment.

“How about ‘Yes, I am so corny I post pictures of food on instagram’?”

Jongdae gives him a flat look, that has Kyungsoo biting his cheek to stop from grinning.

“Maybe I’m uploading the wrong one,” he starts offhandedly, as he hits the back button and changes the upload to the one of Kyungsoo. “‘Cuz I have the perfect caption for this one, it’s, ‘Wah I’m a killjoy that judges everyone because I’m bitter and the only person who follows me on Instagram is my mom’.”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, causing Jongdae to cackle.

“I would never let my mom follow my instagram,” he mutters. Kyungsoo doesn’t have an instagram, but that’s beside the point.

“Love that that’s the part you choose to deny,” Jongdae points out, all-too satisfied, but it’s hard to stay mad at him when his teeth show through his smile like that, boyish and charming. Ugh, Jongdae is the worst.

Jongdae says he’ll just settle for some eating emojis as Kyungsoo points out that’s just adding to the corniness, but Jongdae only sing-songs that he doesn’t care as he kicks Kyungsoo beneath the table teasingly, Kyungsoo kicking right back. Instead of giving Jongdae the vocal reaction he so clearly craves, though, Kyungsoo busies himself with actually eating and okay yeah, this food is really good, no wonder Jongdae comes here so much.

The surprise of just how delicious creme brulee french toast can be must show on Kyungsoo’s face, because Jongdae chuckles and says, “Good, right?” Popping a piece of maple-syrup covered banana into his mouth in the process.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees, greedily taking a bite.

“Here,” Jongdae says, and slices off a bit of the pancake stack, dragging it through the compote and topping it with a dip of ice cream as he holds it out across the table. “Try this.”

Kyungsoo’s ears burn at Jongdae holding his fork out like he’s a baby in a high chair, or something, but he ignores the embarrassment and Jongdae’s knowing smirk as he leans forward to take the bite, humming in surprise.

“Is everything here just super delicious?” He blurts out, as Jongdae smiles at him delightedly.

“Pretty much,” he confirms, and steals a piece of bacon off of Kyungsoo’s plate before grinning at him. Jongdae quickly switches the topic towards Kyungsoo plans for the rest of the day, which consists of netflix and a nap, probably, which has Jongdae laughing even though there hadn’t been a joke, continuing to steal bites off of Kyungsoo’s plates as Kyungsoo retaliates by doing the exact same to him. He’s not really sure it ends up being an even half-half at all as his teeth taste more like ice cream than they do french toast, but, like a lot of the unfair things pertaining to Jongdae, Kyungsoo can’t find the will to complain about that either.

Working at a frozen yoghurt shop in the middle of summer can be surprisingly boring.

One would think that customers would be constant, but there tends to be a bit of a deadzone on Thursdays just after lunch, where everyone is busy either heading home for the day or enjoying the last few rays of sun. Kyungsoo’s aunt keeps the shop open late every night in summer, but Kyungsoo never works later than the last afternoon shift unless they absolutely need a hand, so the rest of his shift will probably be slow and boring until he can clock off.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket, and Kyungsoo isn’t meant to check it, he knows, but the storefront is empty save for a couple of teenagers eating their yoghurt while also on their phones, so he should be able to get away with it; he’ll even take Baekhyun’s pathetic whining at this stage to keep him from dying of boredom.

Luckily though, it’s not Baekhyun.

[ 4:33 pm] Hey

[4:34 pm] are you free tonight? Thought we could hang out.

After four days of radio silence though, Kyungsoo can say he’s surprised that Jongdae has still texted him, having figured he’d just filed Kyungsoo away to be another one-night stand, just as Kyungsoo had expected he would.

Still, Kyungsoo hesitates, because he’s not here to be at Jongdae’s beck-and-call when it’s convenient for him ; it’s still hard to tell if this is as harmless as it seems on the surface or if Jongdae really thinks he’s in control of Kyungsoo’s strings that easily, tugging that at his own whim. Kyungsoo won’t be able to tell for sure though until he tugs a little --it’s naive of Jongdae to think his hooks have sunk that deeply, however.

[4:40 pm] What did you have in mind?

It’s a good enough response for now, Kyungsoo quickly pockets his phone as the doorbell rings and more teenagers walk through, laughing amongst themselves. His phone buzzes almost instantly, but he sneakily switches it to silent while pointedly ignoring it for a little while.

[4:42 pm] idk i thought we could just like… watch netflix or something?

[4:42 pm] or maybe just chill

[4:42 pm] ;)

Oh, that… seems harmless enough. Kyungsoo’s been wanting to chew through some of the stuff on his list anyway, hopefully there’s a couple of movies he can bring to mind that Jongdae won’t mind watching either. The winky face is an odd end to the message though, but Kyungsoo chalks that up to Jongdae being… himself.

[5:01 pm] Sure.

[5:01 pm] I can be at yours after my shift by 7, does that work?

[5:02 pm] Yep :)

[5:02 pm] Can’t wait :3

Kyungsoo starts cleaning up and finishing the last of his duties by six, wiping down the benches and cleaning the machines, refilling the various toppings by crushing oreo biscuits and dicing strawberries, sliding them into their allocated metal tub. He gives a short wave to Soojung as he clocks out and leaves, and then quickly hurries home to his mother’s house down the road, to quickly get dressed and head over to Jongdae’s.

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun is waiting for him on the patio, scrolling through his phone idly while rocking back and forth on the front swing; his visage brightens as he looks up at the sound of Kyungsoo opening the rusty gate. God knows why he doesn’t just go inside; he knows where the spare key is kept, and Kyungsoo’s mother is far more fond of Baekhyun than Kyungsoo is.

“Finally,” he says, standing and stretching, Kyungsoo only rolling his eyes as he opens the door, Baekhyun following him inside wordlessly, kicking off their shoes together. “Sehun cancelled on me to --get this-- help Chanyeol and his sister set up a surprise party for their mom and what the fuck , seriously, is this him telling me to get lost because he’s more interested in Chanyeol, or--”

Curse the force of the universe that made Baekhyun’s family choose to live in the house across the street.

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo sighs, heading upstairs. “It’s just one time.”

“Yeah but--” Baekhyun makes a frustrated noise. “--I offered to help but Sehun was like ‘ nah, Chanyeol doesn’t want you to stress about it’ ,” his voice drops an octave, imitating Sehun in a way that comes off surprisingly accurate. Baekhyun scoffs. “What the fuck did I do wrong?”

Kyungsoo has a retort for that that ends with something like opened your mouth and talked but Baekhyun seems strung out enough over nothing that he doesn’t bother saying it, pulling out a set of clean clothes instead and heading to the bathroom.

“I’m sure you’re reading too far into things,” Kyungsoo consoles gently, because overreaction or not, Baekhyun is tender about the strangest of things. Then again, if he’s actually talking about the issue, he’s not genuinely worried about it. “Don’t think about it too much, you’ll hurt yourself.”

He flicks Baekhyun’s forehead fondly, who wrinkles his nose in return. Baekhyun follows him into the bathroom, and Kyungsoo doesn’t even bat an eye as Baekhyun just wordlessly holds his palms over his eyes while Kyungsoo fiddles getting the temperature of the water right. It’s a familiar routine; Baekhyun has no definition of personal space --Kyungsoo, like all things Baekhyun-related, is too tired to argue otherwise.

“Maybe…” Baekhyun agrees lamely as he sits down onto the closed toilet, eyes still shut. “Ugh, whatever, as if I’m going to lose Sehun to six-feet of asshole .”

Kyungsoo laughs despite himself, stripping out of his work clothes and tugging the shower curtain shut as he relaxes beneath the hot water. That’s the Baekhyun he knows and tolerates.

“I was thinking we could finally finish off Stranger Things,” he rambles, half-shouting over the rush of water as Kyungsoo just hums noncommittally.

“Finally not feeling like a scared little kid?” He teases, smiling at Baekhyun’s little grunt in response, whatever he mumbles indignantly under his breath being lost by the sound of the shower. “I can’t anyway,” Kyungsoo replies. “I’m hanging out with Jongdae.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun says interestedly, tone light and coy. He’d practically begged every nitty-gritty detail out of Kyungsoo about Saturday night after coming round to bother him Sunday evening, but Kyungsoo is tight-lipped about the affairs of his sex life. Partly because he, unlike Baekhyun, appreciates some privacy, partly because he just likes pissing Baekhyun off. “Mr. All-surf-no-turf?”

Kyungsoo can’t see through the shower curtain, but he can instinctively feel Baekhyun waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” Kyungsoo counters, because he doesn’t need Baekhyun slapping labels onto things Kyungsoo wants to keep to himself. “We’re just… watching netflix, I guess.”

That causes Baekhyun to pause as Kyungsoo finishes washing and turns off the tap, the pipes squeaking as the water cuts off abruptly.

“Did he… mention chilling, too?” Baekhyun asks innocently, although the odd specificity of his question makes Kyungsoo suspicious.

“... Yes…” Kyungsoo answers, wary, reaching out with a hand to grab his towel off the railing.

Baekhyun fucking wheezes.

“ Oh my god ,” he manages between bouts of laughter, and when Kyungsoo peeks out from behind the curtain to glare at him all he sees is Baekhyun doubled over on the toilet, clutching his sides. “I know you’re secretly an eighty-year-old man trapped in a twenty-one year old’s body but, Jesus Christ, Soo.”

Ugh. “What?” Kyungsoo snaps, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out. “What’s so funny?”

Baekhyun inhales deeply to try to stop himself from laughing. “It’s just-- it’s a meme, Soo,” he explains, wiping tears from his eyes. “Netflix and chill?” He tries, with no recognition on Kyungsoo’s end. “It’s a euphemism.”

“Euphemism for what?” Kyungsoo asks, disgruntled, using his other towel to dry off his hair.

“How you avoid everything on the internet I’ll never know,” Baekhyun remarks, and Kyungsoo whips his calf with the end of his towel to hurry him up. “Ow!” Baekhyun yelps, recoiling into fetal position in defense on the toilet lid. “What do you think it’s a euphemism for, grandpa.”

Kyungsoo grimaces, because he can guess the answer well-enough.

“But Jongdae said netflix or chill…” he tries lamely, and Baekhyun just snorts all over again, quickly regaining his composure when Kyungsoo glares at him.

“Pretty sure the intention stays the same,” Baekhyun replies slyly, grinning with pointed teeth. “And you called him a one-night stand.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m contractually obliged to have sex with him,” he points a comb accusingly at Baekhyun. “I can still say no.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “Sure, but judging from the fact that you haven’t told me a single detail about sleeping with Jongdae, which only proves to me that it was that goddamn good--” Kyungsoo grunts; can’t he just remain silent without it being telling . “--something tells me you won’t resist the forbidden fruit, my dearest Eve.”

Kyungsoo pauses with the comb midway through his hair, frowning at his reflection. Baekhyun just watches him quietly for a moment, expression unreadable.

“Sleeping with the same person twice is risky territory,” he says slowly, uncoiling until his feet are flat on the tiles again.

“I know that,” Kyungsoo mutters, washing the cleanser off his face. “But we haven’t…”

“Yet,” Baekhyun is quick to finish for him. “You pretty much left one-night stand country the moment you gave him your number anyway, though.”

Something in Kyungsoo’s gut settles uncomfortably at that, grinding his teeth together. “So what if I want to sleep with him?” He snaps petulantly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

If Baekhyun is surprised by Kyungsoo’s sudden outburst, he doesn’t show it, shrugging instead.

“I’m just saying,” he replies casually, but there’s a stiffness to his shoulders that hadn’t been there previously. “Friends with benefits seems too sticky for you, but it’s not like you’re boyfriend material.”

Sticky when it’s Baekhyun maybe, who had fallen for Junmyeon three summers ago like an idiot and has never really seemed to recover from the loss of what he’d never have. It had been a simple thing, a little fling, two horny college kids pushing through all the hormones together until Baekhyun’s heart had gotten in the way and Junmyeon had gone back home --the one that wasn’t his temporary holiday house-- forever. Like every summer before it, Kyungsoo had been there, had watched Baekhyun fall too far to pull him up from, but had walked down to the bottom of the cliff to help pick up the pieces anyway; now that summer just seems like a fairy tale, where the ending moral haunts Kyungsoo everytime he so much as kisses someone.

But Kyungsoo isn’t Baekhyun, and he isn’t sleeping with Jongdae, and if he does then it doesn’t have to be sticky so long as he gets some clearer definitions on the matter… maybe. It’s hard to deny the obvious sexual chemistry he and Jongdae have, and it’s certainly something that’s serving to make his summer a little more interesting than usual, so Kyungsoo doesn’t want to deprive himself of it just out of fear of falling in love with Jongdae. It’s not going to happen --hasn’t in the past, won’t start now-- Baekhyun is the sort of person who hands his heart out to anyone who so much as offers to hold it, Kyungsoo’s has kept his under lock-and-key since he was a kid. Jongdae won’t change that.

“I’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo says softly since his annoyance has quickly cooled, watching the way Baekhyun relaxes somewhat. “I am actually an adult, you know.” It’s not all Kyungsoo wishes he could say, but he’s never been good with words anyway. Baekhyun’s concern is touching, and Kyungsoo gets that Jongdae is some surf-loving fuckboy that’s destined to break hearts, but Kyungsoo isn’t going to let that happen. He refuses to be another notch on Jongdae’s wall, a strike in his tally.

“Of course you are,” Baekhyun says, smiling lopsidedly. “Being eighty years old and all--”

Kyungsoo throws the comb at his head.

Baekhyun returns to his own house across the road after charming Kyungsoo’s mother and giving her a white lie about Kyungsoo hanging out and probably staying over so that she won’t question Kyungsoo’s whereabouts. She naturally assumes Kyungsoo is sleeping over at Baekhyun’s every time he’s out for the night --had the last time he was with Jongdae too-- and even after all these years Kyungsoo still hasn’t found the willpower to explain to her that he’s an adult and not like, seven.

“You owe me,” Baekhyun nudges Kyungsoo with his elbow as they step out the front door, giving an exaggerated wave as he crosses the street back to his family home. “Have fun.” He winks obnoxiously, enough to make Kyungsoo roll his eyes as he heads towards the bus stop down the road.  

He looks up directions after texting Jongdae for his exact address, and busies himself with untangling his headphones as Kyungsoo presses his forehead against the window, sighing. His stomach curls with nervousness at the thought of seeing Jongdae again, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know why his brain is so intent on worrying about everything when it shouldn’t be. He can’t tell if he’s nervous because of what Baekhyun has said or because of everything else, but it doesn’t serve him to be worried, so he forces the thoughts aside.

The university town is far less deserted in the early evening as Kyungsoo follows the route google maps gives him to Jongdae’s apartment building, pulling out his headphones before knocking once, firmer the second time around.

“Hey,” Jongdae grins as Kyungsoo busies himself winding the cord around his phone, pocketing it. Jongdae’s smile is blinding as Kyungsoo adjusts the glasses across his face --he’d been too lazy to put in contacts this morning. “You made it.”

“It took a lot of skill,” Kyungsoo replies dryly, as Jongdae easily lets him in with a laugh, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

There’s another person in the kitchen, which surprises Kyungsoo, as Jongdae quickly says, “This is the roommate, by the way.” He grins charmingly as he guides Kyungsoo towards the kitchen counter with a hand on the small of his back. “Kyungsoo, Minseok. Minseok, Kyungsoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” Minseok says, wiping a hand on his apron before offering it out. “I was just making sure this one ate something with actual nutritional value, for once.” He jabs a thumb at Jongdae, who smiles sheepishly. “Have you eaten yet?”

The last thing Kyungsoo had eaten was a handful of strawberries on his break.

“No…” he says, and Minseok just smiles, showing off his gums.

“Well good, because I need an honest opinion on my fried rice.” He gives Jongdae another pointed look. “He’s too nice.”

Jongdae makes a high-pitched noise. “If I’m honest you won’t feed me,” he pouts cutely, as Minseok rolls his eyes. “I can never win.”

Minseok assures them dinner won’t be long, and Jongdae asks if Kyungsoo is happy to wait out here or more towards the couch, giving him an out from a social interaction he may not want. The concern surprises Kyungsoo, but he insists that he’s fine on the kitchen stool, happy to listen to Minseok and Jongdae bicker with minimal input. Soon enough Minseok starts asking Kyungsoo questions about himself which he answers honestly, asking Minseok in kind. It turns out he’s a microbiology grad student at the same university as Jongdae, but they’ve known each other since high school, long time friends.

Minseok is as easy to talk to as Jongdae, and it’s weird how comfortable Kyungsoo feels in this situation, since he can be a little too awkward majority of the time. But Jongdae smooths out his edges, and Minseok is unbothered by his reserved nature, so it’s easy for Kyungsoo to relax, wondering why he’d ever felt nervous to begin with. Minseok being here also probably means Jongdae’s euphemism hadn’t been a euphemism at all so ha , take that Baekhyun.

“What’s this missing?” Minseok asks suddenly as he holds out a wooden spoon for Kyungsoo to taste, half a bite worth of fried rice and a chunk of diced carrot. Kyungsoo chews thoughtfully.

“Ginger?” He offers. “More soy.” He decides, eyebrows drawn together. “Maybe sriracha if you have any?”

Minseok blinks --either at the honest opinion or the detailedness of it, Kyungsoo doesn’t know-- then smiles.

“Why didn’t I think of that,” he mutters, opening pantry doors in an attempt to find the ingredients Kyungsoo had listed. Jongdae is just looking at him strangely, chin in palm, elbow on the counter.

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” Jongdae replies, their feet knocking together as he swings on the stool ever-so-slightly. As characteristic as always, Jongdae smiles. “I just-- you cook, let me guess.”

Kyungsoo’s ears feel warm. “Yeah,” he admits honestly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I um,” it’s not something he talks about often, really. Doesn’t come up much. “Have a weird obsession with it, probably.”

“Sounds like a good obsession to have to me,” Jongdae retorts, and Kyungsoo is cut off from coming up with a reply by Minseok snorting.

“Yeah, coming from the guy who can’t put something on the stove without burning it.”

“That’s what I have you for,” Jongdae replies matter of factly, causing Minseok to scoff loudly. He turns to Kyungsoo with all his teeth showing. “You should cook for me sometime, too.”  

“You’re going to suffer from malnutrition,” Minseok sighs, although it seems reluctantly fond. He points a wooden spoon at Kyungsoo. “Don’t give into his charms, Jongdae has to learn how to fend for himself one day.”

“I will live off of toasted sandwiches until the day I die,” Jongdae proudly declares, causing Kyungsoo to give him a skewed glance.

“Keep eating only toasted sandwiches and that day will come pretty soon,” he comments dryly. Jongdae makes a noise of exaggerated hurt while Minseok fucking guffaws .

The fried rice isn’t fancy, as Minseok quickly explains, sliding two bowls across the counter, it’s more a case of it being one of three things he can actually make that isn’t horrible. Jongdae’s oddly quiet at that, which causes Minseok to throw the apron at his face; Kyungsoo just laughs as Jongdae complains about getting apron in his food and Minseok replying indifferently that it’s what he deserves.

Kyungsoo is quickly learning to like Minseok. He wonders if everything in Jongdae’s life --Jongdae included-- is like that, easy to come around to.

Eventually they finish, chatting some more --Jongdae and Kyungsoo sitting at the counter with Minseok standing on the other side, resting on his elbows as he eats-- but then Minseok excuses himself to get ready, since he’s apparently going out for the night with friends from work. Jongdae mouths alcoholic at Kyungsoo in explanation as Minseok busies washing their dishes in the sink and says, “I heard that.”

“I didn’t even say anything???!?!?” Jongdae is quick to argue.

Minseok shrugs. “But I felt your smugness.”

Kyungsoo laughs at the relatability, and Jongdae makes indignant noises like a petulant child before sticking his tongue out at Minseok and dragging Kyungsoo to the couch with both hands around his wrist, to where his laptop is laid out on the coffee table, charging cable winding all the way back to a socket behind the TV. Minseok only shakes his head fondly which Kyungsoo catches out of the corner of his eye, all before Jongdae commands him firmly to sit.

Despite all of Baekhyun’s warnings, Jongdae… really does just open Netflix. Or maybe that’s not the actual euphemism part? Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows --he doesn’t know, if the whole thing is a euphemism or if it’s the ‘chill’ part tacked on after. Maybe he should’ve researched this more before coming--

“What did you wanna watch?” Jongdae asks as he brings the laptop up onto his thighs, sitting right next to Kyungsoo, whose body runs hot at the sudden proximity.

“Um,” he stalls lamely, as Jongdae easily hands the computer over, scrolling through Jongdae’s list idly. He tries to stop his smile, to no avail. “The Princess Diaries?” Kyungsoo reads out, giving Jongdae a sideways, amused look. “27 Dresses? Definitely Maybe?”

“What?” Jongdae asks, nonplussed. “They’re good movies.”

Kyungsoo just laughs softly. “You don’t strike me as the rom-com type, is all.”

“Okay but rom-coms aren’t just rom-coms,” Jongdae begins explaining, sitting up straighter. “There’s always elements of self-discovery and character development and--” he cuts off, noticing Kyungsoo’s grin. “Oh shut it, I bet you’re a cynic who thinks Shawshank Redemption is the only good movie ever made.”

Kyungsoo huffs at that. “I like all movies,” he says. “Even rom-coms.” Hopefully Jongdae never finds out about the giant La La Land poster Kyungsoo keeps in his room. “You just make it too easy.”

He’s still recovering from the knowledge that Jongdae is secretly a sap, watching the way he opens his mouth and begins to say something before Minseok interrupts with, “I’m off. You kids have fun. It was nice meeting you, Kyungsoo.”

“You too,” Kyungsoo returns honestly, giving a curt wave.

“Thanks Dad!” Jongdae heartily cheers and Minseok flips him off as he shuts the door behind him. Jongdae snickers. “Now hurry up and pick,” he nudges Kyungsoo with his elbow impatiently, who manages to find a handful of movies in Jongdae’s to-watch list he knows are in his own, causing them to bicker between you pick and no, you pick .

Eventually they settle it with a coin toss --three successive rounds of it, to choose between the four options-- and as the opening credits start playing Kyungsoo realises his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

It feels like… a normal hang out between friends, Kyungsoo thinks, as Jongdae laughs too loudly at something on screen. In a way, it reminds him of hanging out with Baekhyun, wanting to chastise Jongdae for being too noisy but not having the heart to --except Jongdae is a lot less touchy than Baekhyun, which is ironic, because Kyungsoo’s slept with him. He’s almost one hundred percent certain Baekhyun had been lying about memes to mess with Kyungsoo by the time they’re three-quarters through the movie, because Jongdae doesn’t seem to be interested in anything more than the characters on screen.

Then a hand lands on Kyungsoo’s thigh.

It’s so harmless and natural Kyungsoo doesn’t really notice it at first, the way Jongdae shifts position and just… rests it there, right above Kyungsoo’s knee. But soon Kyungsoo becomes restless, wanting to move, yet for some reason, it’s like Jongdae’s hand keeps him anchored in place, far too warm against Kyungsoo’s bare skin.

Twenty minutes on the movie left to go, and Jongdae’s hand begins to wander, idly trailing up the length of skin, slow and smooth. Kyungsoo’s eyes flit to Jongdae, and it’s hard to tell if he’s even aware if he’s doing it or not, so clearly focused on his laptop screen. Then again, just like Minseok, Kyungsoo can feel his smugness.

But maybe it’s just a harmless thigh touch, Kyungsoo tries to reason, until Jongdae’s hand dips lower, that is, and his fingers are tapping out erratic beats on the inside of his thigh, definitely not a place anybody who wasn’t trying to get into his pants right now would touch. Fuck Baekhyun for being right, fuck Jongdae for being himself, but fuck Kyungsoo most of all, for not finding it within himself to stop Jongdae.

Jongdae grows braver in the last few scenes of the movie, resting his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, holding an arm against his chest, keeping his hand in place. They’re so close now Kyungsoo is overheating, and his body rattles in unison with each peal of Jongdae’s bubbling laugh, causing him to watch the profile of Jongdae’s face, the slope of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones, the spots he’s missed shaving and the moles dotted across his skin, mouth wide and open in a permanent smile.

The movie ends with some one-liner Kyungsoo misses, and just as the credits roll Jongdae grins at Kyungsoo, their faces so close their noses are nearly touching.

“What’d you think?” He asks innocently, seeking Kyungsoo’s approval.

“I liked it,” Kyungsoo admits, turning his face back to the credits and reading out all the names in his head in an attempt to stop every single nerve in his body from being on fire, swallowing thickly. “It was really good.”

Jongdae hums in agreement, watching the side of Kyungsoo’s face, and then his hand leaves his thigh to hook beneath Kyungsoo’s chin, turning his head until they’re face-to-face again.

“Good,” Jongdae mumbles, eyes dropping to Kyungsoo’s mouth, and Kyungsoo’s breath hitches in anticipation as Jongdae kisses him, a soft, slow slide of lips that has him instantly sighing contentedly, whole body livewired from Jongdae’s touches, riled up and eager. He’s quick to return Jongdae’s kisses, a hand moving up to fist Jongdae’s tank top, and when Kyungsoo’s glasses bump the bridge of Jongdae’s nose Jongdae huffs a dry laugh, Kyungsoo also snorting, leaning back to take them off, but Jongdae’s hand tugs at his wrist stubbornly, silently telling him to leave them on as he leans back in --interesting. Kyungsoo just gives him a questioning glance as he pushes Jongdae back until their mouths disconnect again and Jongdae is lying on the couch, Kyungsoo shifting to straddle his thighs.

“You just waste no time, do you?” He asks Jongdae, tilting his head and looking down at him. Spread out beneath him, Kyungsoo could get used to the sight of Jongdae like this, dark hair fanned out as his chest rises and falls beneath Kyungsoo’s palm with each harsh breath, already somewhat wrecked. Kyungsoo can feel Jongdae’s dick pressing against his ass already, purely in anticipation.

“Wanted you…” is all Jongdae seems to say, sitting up to kiss Kyungsoo’s mouth as Kyungsoo teases him by pulling back, Jongdae pushing forward all over again and Kyungsoo just continuing to tease him with only the lightest brush of lips until Jongdae just growls in frustration --and yes, the sound is so hot Kyungsoo’s blood thrums -- wrapping a hand around Kyungsoo’s neck to force him into kissing Jongdae, licking into Kyungsoo’s mouth and sucking on his tongue hard enough to make Kyungsoo moan.

Fuck, it feels so good, Kyungsoo gasps against Jongdae’s lips as his hips buck up beneath him, and tugging Jongdae by the front of his shirt closer, stretching the material, Kyungsoo deepens the kiss even further, running his tongue over Jongdae’s teeth, swivelling his hips in small, experimental circles just to hear the way Jongdae gasps, desperate and needy.

It’s gotten way too hot way too fast, and it’s only the ice cold realisation of the fact that Kyungsoo has been anticipating this all week --just as much as Jongdae has, apparently-- that sobers his lust-drunk mind enough to push Jongdae back with a meekly hand by the shoulder.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo pants, and Jongdae obediently stills, hands dropping, looking at Kyungsoo worriedly.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asks. “Should we stop--”

Kyungsoo just laughs breathily, head hanging as he tries to regain his composure.

“No it’s-- you’re fine just--” he inhales deeply to steel himself, as Jongdae’s hand rests on his hip reassuringly, rubbing circles along the bone. He swallows, and looks into Jongdae’s eyes. “--You know this… is just. I’m not. Looking for anything right now.”

Jongdae blinks at him, once, twice. Way to kill the mood, Kyungsoo.

“Oh,” he says. “That’s what you--” he chokes on half a laugh. “--I mean yeah, that’s what I figured?” Jongdae smiles lopsidedly, head tilted. “I’m not looking for anything right now either.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t need a relationship, doesn’t need the stress or the expectations or the way it can make him impulsive, possessive, single minded. Doesn’t need the risk of heartbreak, doesn’t need the distraction, certainly doesn’t need anything more with a sun-kissed boy on the opposite coast who, in hindsight, would only break Kyungsoo’s heart anyway. Jongdae probably chews through lovers like new flavours of gum; Kyungsoo doesn’t intend to let himself be spat out.

“Okay, good,” Kyungsoo breathes out in relief, still a little hesitant, maybe. “I just… wanted to be um. Clear about that.”

Jongdae shrugs. “No worries,” he says, aloof. “Things like this can be…”

“Messy?” Kyungsoo offers.

“Sticky,” Jongdae corrects, and Kyungsoo laughs nervously in response. Jongdae just grins. “But if we’re on the same page about this, then...” he licks his lips. “It’s fine, right?”

“Right,” Kyungsoo affirms, swallowing. “And if it gets too messy--”

“We end it,” Jongdae’s lips twitch. “And just stay friends.” He pauses. “Without the benefits.”

Simple enough, not that they’ve ever been friends to begin with. Kyungsoo smiles in relief.

“Okay, good.” He says lamely, glad they’re thinking alike. Ugh, fuck Baekhyun for ever making him feel like this was going to be more messy than it needed to be; Jongdae isn’t exactly the type Kyungsoo would see himself making a fuckbuddy out of but, well, maybe him not being Kyungsoo’s type at all is what makes him so perfect for the role. He’s glad they’ve drawn a few lines in the haphazardness that is the one-night-stand-that’s-no-longer-a-one-night-stand land.

"Now just don't go falling in love with me," Jongdae murmurs, closing the distance between their faces, eyes bright even in the darkness,  and Kyungsoo resists the urge to laugh --as if he would ever.

“You wish,” Kyungsoo scoffs, and tugs on Jongdae’s tank top again to press their lips together, softer this time, slower, no longer the frantic rushing of heated tension. Now when Kyungsoo grinds down it’s steady, methodical, a rhythm he perfects as he makes out with Jongdae, arms hanging off his shoulders, designed to see what gets Jongdae to moan the loudest, make him more needy, cause his fingers to tighten their grip on Kyungsoo’s hips.

Jongdae’s so responsive it’s dizzying. Kyungsoo’s lips stay permanently upturned while he wonders if Jongdae is capable of moaning in every note of the C major scale, the whole octave up.

“We should--” Jongdae starts, sentence cut off by a pointed roll of his hips against Kyungsoo’s ass and a nip at Kyungsoo’s bottom lip. “--Bedroom.”

“We should bedroom?” Kyungsoo repeats tauntingly, and Jongdae responds by pulling back to kiss at the corner of his mouth, his jawline, his neck, and nip at a spot beneath Kyungsoo’s ear.

“Go,” Jongdae manages, still desperately thrusting against Kyungsoo, panting harshly while kissing down his neck line, licking at the hollows of his collar bone. “To it.”

“Don’t want to have exhilarating couch sex?” Kyungsoo asks dryly, eyebrow raised.

Jongdae pulls back with a grimace. “Minseok would kill me.”

It’s a sobering thought. Kyungsoo purposely shifts from side to side with enough friction to make Jongdae moan one last time and then stands, heading towards Jongdae’s room as he tugs on Jongdae’s wrist to pull him upright, leading him towards it.

The backs of Kyungsoo’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and he pulls Jongdae towards him, pressing their mouths together. It’s easier this way to slide his hands beneath the hem of Jongdae’s tank top, run his fingers up every ridge on his abdomen, nails scraping against his snail trail. Jongdae easily raises his arms so Kyungsoo can pull the material over his head and self-indulgently let his fingers trail over Jongdae’s biceps on the way down. Fuck, he’s so hot.

“Any ideas?” Kyungsoo asks as he sits down on the bed idly, taking the new advantage angle to kiss Jongdae’s chest, planting them down his stomach teasingly as his fingers run up and down Jongdae’s side just to leave goosebumps at his wake, thumbing at his nipples lightly enough that Jongdae inhales.

“You know,” he starts conversationally, eyes wide and locked on Kyungsoo, swallowing thickly. “I expected you to be more shy about… this sort of stuff.”

Kyungsoo pauses then, drawing back and looking up at Jongdae.

“This sort of stuff?” He quotes eyebrow raised. So much for Kyungsoo being the shy one.

“Sex,” Jongdae elaborates, as Kyungsoo just shrugs and goes back to teasing Jongdae with swipes of his tongue along his chest. “You’re so--” Kyungsoo’s hand dips beneath the waistband of his pants, and Jongdae falters with a shaky breath. “--reserved, I dunno. With new people, y’know. Like Minseok.”

Is now really the time to be having this conversation? Kyungsoo unbuttons Jongdae’s shorts in hopes of shutting him up, to no avail.

“But with me you’re like a different person,” Kyungsoo pauses at that, fingers freezing. Jongdae just chuckles, strained. “I like it, don’t worry.”

Kyungsoo isn’t sure if he’s referring to Kyungsoo’s supposed bias towards him or the hand on his dick.

“You’re…” the different one, Kyungsoo wants to say, because it’s not that he treats Jongdae differently because he can, but because Jongdae practically requires it. Kyungsoo swallows. “... there’s no reason to be shy about sex.” He amends, shrugging and smothering any of the other words he’d nearly said.

“There isn’t,” Jongdae agrees, as Kyungsoo frowns at his belly button in thought. “I guess I just expected you to be.”

Most people do, thinking Kyungsoo’s… what? Height? Reserved demeanour? Somehow equates to some sort of virginal purity --he nearly laughs at the thought. Kyungsoo hates being labelled as things he isn’t --just because he’s not a confident, social loudmouth like Baekhyun doesn’t mean he enjoys sex any less, doesn’t want it any less. Kyungsoo is as complex and dichotomous as every other human being.

“Well if you wanted a shy virgin you should’ve wasted your time on someone else,” Kyungsoo says dryly, tugging Jongdae’s shorts down.

“No,” Jongdae says shortly as Kyungsoo sinks to his knees. “I only want you.”

Deciding he’s had enough of talking about all of this, Kyungsoo presses a kiss to the inside of Jongdae’s thigh; watching the way he shudders above Kyungsoo, hands threading through his hair, is better than any movie netflix has to offer, more beautiful than any piece of art hanging on his bedroom wall.

Jongdae laughs shakily as Kyungsoo just continues teasing him by kissing above his waistband and running his hands along Jongdae’s sturdy thighs, brushing his hands over the front of his underwear only occasionally, watching Jongdae’s face the entire time to see when he’ll crack.

“Seems like you have some ideas of what you want to do,” Jongdae nervously jokes as he clears his throat to get rid of the way it had cracked mid-way through his sentence. Kyungsoo hums noncommittally.

“One or two,” he replies.

“Well,” Jongdae gulps. “What’re you waiting for? Surprise me.”

It’s the green light Kyungsoo has been looking for, as he tugs down Jongdae’s underwear until they’re pooling at his ankles, and spits into his palm before wrapping it around the base of Jongdae’s hardening dick, slowly pumping it. Jongdae exhales in visceral relief and Kyungsoo can’t help but laugh breathily as he leans forward to wrap his lips around the head, swirling his tongue in clockwise circles.

“So fucking good,” Jongdae remarks quietly, fingers tightening their grip in Kyungsoo’s short hair. “You’re seriously so fucking good at this.”

Kyungsoo laughs through his nose as he rewards Jongdae for his generous compliments by moving his tongue to the underside of his dick and sucking him further into his mouth. Jongdae moans unabashedly, hips stuttering somewhat as Kyungsoo jerks back reflexively to stop himself from choking, using his free hand to hold Jongdae in place.

“So much better than my hand,” Jongdae mutters, and Kyungsoo pulls back contemplatively even if it’s not much of a compliment.

“Did you touch yourself thinking about me?” Kyungsoo asks, head tilted, mouth curved upwards. Jongdae looks at him with dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he admits easily. “Couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth, your hands, your ass .” The last one startles a laugh out of Kyungsoo at the crudeness. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t do the same.”

Jongdae doesn’t need the ego boost from Kyungsoo’s admittance that he’d woken up on Monday morning and watched come spiral down the shower drain as he’d thought about the way Jongdae and fucked him and how his muscles still ached from it. His avoidance of answering probably tells Jongdae all he needs to know regardless, though, so Kyungsoo tries to make it so that he can’t bathe in the satisfaction too much by going back to sucking him off.

Jongdae’s stamina is infuriating, and soon enough Kyungsoo’s jaw begins to hurt as he moves his head up and down Jongdae’s dick while using his fingers to compensate for any length he can’t quite reach. On the plus side, it’s giving him more time to drink up all of Jongdae’s whines and moans, and it’s allowing his throat to readjust, slowly, so that he can finally swallow Jongdae as deep as possible, which seems to make Jongdae’s legs shake. Still, Jongdae shows no signs of finishing, and Kyungsoo wants him to, desperately, wants Jongdae to come down his throat on Kyungsoo’s tongue and tug at his hair, wants to pull him apart piece by piece, have him cry out Kyungsoo’s name. It’s an overwhelming amount of want that Kyungsoo is surprised by how much he enjoys pleasuring Jongdae, and becomes all too aware of the tightness in his underwear, reaching down to fist a dry hand around his dick.

The sudden touch as Kyungsoo pulling back to gasp, head hanging as the friction builds, hotter and hotter. Jongdae doesn’t say anything, just strokes gently at the nape of Kyungsoo’s neck encouragingly as Kyungsoo’s hand increases in pace. Fuck, he’s so turned on and all the sudden attention to is has set his body on fire, letting out a desperate moan that’s half frustration as he tries to build his orgasm high enough.

Jongdae hooks two fingers under his chin to force Kyungsoo into looking up again, so that Jongdae can clearly see the neediness on his face, the way his hand is working beneath him, and Kyungsoo comes like that, gasping, squirming under Jongdae’s gaze, yet enjoying it at the same time, his eyes boring holes through Kyungsoo’s skin.

“Shit,” Jongdae curses, and bends down to kiss Kyungsoo, who groans as soon as their mouths touch, the angle awkward in its hunger as Jongdae pushes his tongue into Kyungsoo’s mouth, tasting himself. One orgasm had brought an amount of relief Kyungsoo hadn’t truly realised he’d needed, but Jongdae is still hard and aching and Kyungsoo isn’t done, not even close.

“Fuck my mouth,” Kyungsoo demands as he pulls back, breathing harshly. He’s not sure if it sounds as commanding as he’d wanted it to, though, or more like a plea. He wants Jongdae to come -- needs him to.

“God,” Jongdae says in disbelief, although the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he stands straight again tells Kyungsoo the words had gotten to him. “First you fucking come just from sucking me off alone and now this?” He shakes his head slightly, laughing incredulously. “You’re so…”

But he doesn’t have time to finish his sentence because Kyungsoo is kneeling obediently in front of him, and makes a show of licking his lips before opening his mouth in waiting, impatient.

Jongdae just shudders. “God,” he breathes out, hands reaching to either side of Kyungsoo’s head and twisting his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, tugging hard enough to make Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut, but still somehow so, so gentle. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

Somewhat dazed, Kyungsoo can only nod shortly, and then Jongdae is slowly guiding his mouth back onto his dick. Kyungsoo’s first instinct is to use his usual moves for when he gives blowjobs, but that’s not what this is, so Kyungsoo just closes his lips somewhat and focuses on breathing, keeping his throat open as Jongdae gives one experimental thrust, then another.

Jongdae moans, or maybe Kyungsoo does, or maybe one of them moans because of the other, Kyungsoo isn’t sure anymore, can’t focus on anything other than the slide of Jongdae’s dick between his lips and the way his rhythm is growing, the noises he makes above Kyungsoo as his composure breaks almost immediately. Tears are pricking the corner of Kyungsoo’s eyes from the way Jongdae’s dick is hitting the back of his throat and the pulling of his hair to keep Kyungsoo’s head in place, his glasses bumping on his nose, but none of that bothers him as Jongdae’s rhythm just grows animalistic, erratic, the taste of precome sliding along Kyungsoo’s tongue.

Jongdae is overwhelming every single one of Kyungsoo’s senses, and he loves it, but he can’t swallow the drops of precome with Jongdae fucking his mouth like this, and he’s salivating too much, too. Kyungsoo gags, ever-so-slightly, and Jongdae pulls out almost immediately, Kyungsoo inhaling at the sudden emptiness and spluttering, raising a hand to his mouth and feeling the way spit has dripped down his chin.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asks worriedly, nervous, hands tenderly cupping Kyungsoo’s face to search it desperately. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo replies, voice hoarse. “Did I tell you to stop?”

Jongdae’s shoulders drop in relief. “No,” he replies. “But that doesn’t mean I was just gonna keep going.”

Kyungsoo huffs, but he probably has a point --his jaw aches, anyway, and now his throat hurts too.

“We can stop,” Jongdae suggests softly. His concern only makes Kyungsoo feel… odd, but he gives a pointed glance at Jongdae’s leaking dick.

“No we can’t,” he says, and Jongdae opens his mouth to give some stupid stubborn answer about how he can handle this himself or something about how Kyungsoo can just rest because he’s stupidly considerate like that, beneath all the snark and pure fuckboy , and Kyungsoo cuts him off by reaching for Jongdae’s hand and scooting forward a little, placing it on Jongdae’s dick. “But you can show me how you touched yourself while you were thinking about me.”

Jongdae breathes out, “Unbelievable.” And then he swallows as he asks, “You’re sure?” Undoubtedly knowing exactly what Kyungsoo wants him to do.

Besides, Kyungsoo has a hypothesis to test.

“Go for it,” Kyungsoo consents, and Jongdae steadily brings a hand up to jerk himself off in front of Kyungsoo’s face, fast and dirty and lacking in finesse, just enough to finish off what Kyungsoo started but couldn’t do for him. Deciding to help, Kyungsoo mutters encouraging words, calling Jongdae pretty and beautiful and so, so good . Jongdae makes a frustrated, desperate noise, obviously close but needing something more , and Kyungsoo helps him as best he can by parting his lips and sticking out his tongue ever-so-slightly, as if trying to catch snowflakes on the tip.

Well, snowflakes hadn’t exactly been Kyungsoo’s intention. Jongdae cries out, “ Kyungsoo ,” softly as he comes and it lands all over Kyungsoo’s face, his lips and tongue and cheeks, his glasses , meaning Jongdae lets out a pathetic little whimper as his own hand guides him through it, catching the last few drops that nearly fall to the carpet.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae blurts, and drops to his knees to smash his mouth against Kyungsoo’s, kiss messy with the sticky come between them and Kyungsoo groans at how unabashedly Jongdae seeks to taste himself, even if come is literally the worst substance known to mankind. It’s only made worse when he licks it off Kyungsoo’s face and suddenly he’s all too aware of the fact that he’s fully fucking hard again, had been for the majority of Jongdae fucking his mouth, but it’s unbearable now.

“Just, let me--” Jongdae starts as he pads away, Kyungsoo whining at the loss of contact, but then warm hands are cupping his face again and wiping off the come and spit with a wet towel, smudging the lens of one side of his glasses.

“Please,” Kyungsoo manages, pathetic to his own ears as he pulls Jongdae’s hand towards him and into his lap. “Touch me.”

He’s not usually one for begging, and in any other situation after giving a five-star blowjob Kyungsoo would demand something a whole lot better than a shitty handjob, but he’s too riled up and simultaneously too tired to care right now, body exhausted. Jongdae wordlessly stands to grab the lube from his nightstand and liberally applies it into the palm of his hands as he awkwardly tugs down Kyungsoo’s underwear and wraps a hot, wet hand around his dick, pumping it hard and fast. It’s the worst angle ever with Kyungsoo still kneeling on the floor and Jongdae sitting similarly in front of him, but Kyungsoo grabs onto Jongdae’s shoulders as he cries out at the sensation, still sensitive from his last orgasm, and desperately bucks into Jongdae’s hand, seeking release.

Jongdae murmurs mindless words of encouragement as he presses kisses against every inch of Kyungsoo’s skin, and Kyungsoo hardly registers any of them, too focused on the feeling of Jongdae’s hand around his over sensitive dick. It builds and builds and builds until it stops, and Kyungsoo muffles his moan in the crook of Jongdae’s neck as Jongdae just holds Kyungsoo against his chest and rides him through it, until Kyungsoo is batting his hand away because it’s too much, all of it. His body is burning , and even Jongdae’s reassuring hand on the back of his neck, rubbing gentle circles, feels overwhelming.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Kyungsoo says after a long moment of tense silence. Jongdae just laughs gently, shoulders shaking beneath Kyungsoo’s forehead; he pulls back, blinking to refocus on Jongdae’s face.

“That was…” Jongdae exhales slowly. “Intense.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees meekly, his body cooling down to a slow simmer as he suddenly becomes aware of how sweaty he feels, how burnt out, the urge to collapse into Jongdae’s arms so fucking strong but Kyungsoo bites it back, standing so he can sit on the bed instead.

His legs are shaky, and Kyungsoo stumbles with the sudden weight, mattress dipping as he falls onto it. Jongdae sits beside him with a hearty chuckle, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“I’m gonna go run a bath,” Jongdae says, and it takes an extra moment for Kyungsoo to process that, looking at him.

“...Why?” He asks flatly, because he can’t imagine the tiny tub in this hot weather being a great experience.

“Because I don’t wanna stand up anymore,” he whines. “You should join me. It’ll be fun.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t think it’ll be fun at all, but apparently doesn’t have the heart to argue as Jongdae drags him to the bathroom moments later and toes into the hot water, sighing in contentment and hurrying Kyungsoo on to join him. It almost weirdly feels too intimate but hey, he just had sex with Jongdae, he’s not sure where their boundaries are at, and their relationship is clean-cut and defined so Kyungsoo doesn’t need to worry about overstepping lines that aren’t there to begin with. Plus, he just feels so dirty .  

The whole room is flooded with steam and smells like something floral yet sweet that Kyungsoo recognises because Jongdae smells like it too, beneath the constant scent of ocean saltwater, sunshine, and sweat. The water does look inviting even if there’s no way they’re both going to fit in with no consequences, and Kyungsoo muscles are still shaking so he dips in after taking off his fogged-up, dirty glasses, tucking his knees to his chest in order to conserve space, water spilling over the sides and splashing onto the floor.

Jongdae giggles and says, “Oops,” legs spread out on either side of Kyungsoo; he nudges the side of Kyungsoo’s butt with his big toe.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, y’know,” he teases lightly, referring to Kyungsoo’s fetal-like state. “I have seen you naked.”

But it’s different when it’s under the pretense of sex, Kyungsoo wants to argue, because it’s easy to be distracted by his self-consciousness, and the lights are always low. In the bright fluorescence with Jongdae so unabashedly looking at him, undeterred by his own nudeness, no sexual air to any of it at all, Kyungsoo wishes he was wearing three more layers.

“It’s not the same,” Kyungsoo argues; he shouldn’t have followed Jongdae in here in the first place, shouldn’t have agreed to this anyway --what sort of person sleeps with someone and then has a bath with them, ugh . Showering together would have been so much more normal and bearable; Kyungsoo had just figured that a bath wouldn’t be that different in comparison.

“Okay, then, I’ll turn around,” Jongdae says simply, shrugging, and Kyungsoo is about to say what before Jongdae is spinning in the tub so that his back is towards Kyungsoo, water spilling over the side again, and asking, “Better?”

Kyungsoo blinks, realising Jongdae can’t see him, and slowly relaxes.

“Yeah,” he admits, then, remembering himself, adds, “Sorry.”

Jongdae shakes his head; Kyungsoo lets his limbs loosen as he melts into the water somewhat, tracing out the expanse of Jongdae’s back with his eyes, the way every muscle shifts and moves.

“Don’t be,” Jongdae replies easily. “It just sucks that you feel uncomfortable. You’re really pretty, y’know.”

Kyungsoo flushes at the compliment. “I’m not pretty,” he mumbles. “I’m chubby and weak and have bad skin.” His fingers pinch at a roll on his pale stomach to prove a point, lacking any muscle.

“None of that stuff means you aren’t pretty though?” Jongdae argues, a hand covering his eyes as he talks over his shoulder, frowning. “You can be all those things and still be beautiful, you realise. They’re not bad things to be.”

Kyungsoo’s overheating now, the hot water rushing to his head. Instead of replying, he just splashes water at Jongdae’s face.

“Shut up,” he mutters, defensive. Kyungsoo’s ears are gonna melt off, he can feel it.

“I’m just being honest,” Jongdae shrugs unapologetically, but it’s relieving to see his frown has been replaced with a little toothy grin. “Returning the favour.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow at that. “What?”

“Oh, right before I came on your face?” Jongdae starts conversationally, and Kyungsoo splutters . “I remember you calling me pretty, or something.”

His face is way too smug, so Kyungsoo splashes Jongdae again, just to hear him squeal a little, laughing at the embarrassing noise he’s made.  

“New rule to our arrangement,” Kyungsoo says dryly.

“Alongside the ‘don’t fall in love with me’ one?” Jongdae asks, so Kyungsoo just gives him a hum of acknowledgement.

“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom,” Kyungsoo scolds, and Jongdae just pouts over his shoulder again.

“So I just have to get you inside the bedroom to tease you about it, then,” Kyungsoo sends another splash his way. “Stop wasting water!!!”

Kyungsoo laughs into the back of his hand, face scrunching, and when he relaxes again he sees Jongdae peeking at him from between a gap in his fingers, quickly closing it and turning around as if he hadn’t been watching Kyungsoo laugh. Kyungsoo kicks him in the back, gently.

“Hey,” he chastises, scowling. “No sneak peeks.”

“But it’s no fun,” Jongdae mumbles cutely, then fumbles behind himself blindly as Kyungsoo just watches in confusion until Jongdae’s hands wrap around his ankles and yank his feet through the water, causing Kyungsoo to squeak embarrassingly as his head is plunged beneath the surface. He pushes back up with a gasp, about to berate Jongdae, only to find him settling between Kyungsoo’s legs, his back against his chest. Kyungsoo just blinks down at Jongdae, water droplets dripping off his nose and hair as Jongdae grins up at him unabashedly.

“There,” he amends, and Kyungsoo shifts until he’s sitting, Jongdae pushing his back closer to Kyungsoo’s chest and tipping his face up by resting the back of his head on his shoulder. He grins. “Much better.”

Kyungsoo just narrows his eyes, cupping water between his palms and dumping it on Jongdae’s face, who only squeezes his eyes shut in regret, letting it wash over him. He opens his mouth to cough the last bit out.

“I deserved that,” Jongdae admits. Kyungsoo grunts in agreement.

“You’re sitting on my dick,” he nudges Jongdae so that he shifts forward, making it easier for Kyungsoo to lean back comfortably.

“Nah you wish,” Jongdae remarks, closing his eyes as he lies against Kyungsoo, who brushes the half-wet bangs out of Jongdae’s forehead with his fingers impulsively. “Maybe next time we fuck, though.”

Kyungsoo makes a noise akin to ugh . “You’re so crude,” he scolds, pinching Jongdae’s ear, who yelps.

“Oh because you’re such a holy saint, Mr. ‘Fuck my mou--” Kyungsoo dumps another handful of water on Jongdae’s face just to shut him up; it’s super effective!

Jongdae retaliates by spitting it back, which Kyungsoo’s jaw drops at, disgusted, and he’s about to make Jongdae’s life a living nightmare before he squeals and yells, “Truce truce truce!!!!!” He’s holding his hands above his face defensively. “Minseok will kill me if we flood the floor.”

Kyungsoo pauses, but eventually relents. “What did I say about keeping things to the bedroom?”

Jongdae tips his head back further as his hands fall, grinning up at Kyungsoo cheesily.

“You’re so cute,” he coos, causing Kyungsoo to wrinkle his nose in distaste. He wants to lean down and kiss Jongdae, just to shut him up, but it feels like an urge he shouldn’t act on --Kyungsoo ought to obey his own rules about things staying in the bedroom, even if Jongdae keeps breaking them. Kissing is one line he won’t cross.

They wash properly and rinse off under the showerhead as Jongdae flings a fluffy towel over Kyungsoo’s head to dry his hair and Kyungsoo just glares at him, unable to stop Jongdae’s unruly ruffling as he just smiles down at Kyungsoo cheekily. When they leave the foggy bathroom Kyungsoo is shivering in the lower temperature of the living room compared to the heat of the bath because Minseok --according to Jongdae-- keeps the a/c at below zero temperatures.

“Here,” is all Jongdae says, and hands him a dark blue hoodie that Kyungsoo accepts shyly and curls into. It smells like Jongdae, which is a weird thing to be aware of, flowers and ocean and sun.

Jongdae queues up some movies on netflix, but they have to pause pretty quickly because Kyungsoo’s glasses are -- ahem -- a little too dirty. Jongdae just grins sheepishly as he takes Kyungsoo to the kitchen to wash them off under the tap with a little bit of dishwashing detergent.

“You have weird kinks, you know that, right?” Kyungsoo says to break the silence as he dries the frames off with a dish-towel. Jongdae clears his throat.

“What happens in the bedroom--” he recites, voice at a pitch higher than usual. Kyungsoo just laughs softly and shakes his head.

They end up watching movies endlessly until Minseok stumbles in drunk sometime after Minseok and slurs, “Oh. This is surprisingly more PG than I expected.”

Jongdae just sighs, shutting his laptop and standing, and he drags Minseok towards the counter to sit him down dutifully, filling a glass with water and forcing him to drink it, then repeating the process another two times. It seems to be such a familiar routine Kyungsoo can’t help but smile a little at Minseok’s uncharacteristic drunken obedience, and Jongdae being the responsible one.

“Love you Jongdaeeeeeeee,” Minseok slurs as Jongdae just leads him to his bedroom.

“Yeah yeah love you too,” Jongdae replies obediently as he enters Minseok’s room and shuts the door behind them, leaving sometime later once Minseok is presumably tucked in bed and safe while Kyungsoo can only blink from the couch, unsure of what he’s just witnessed.

“C’mon,” Jongdae yawns. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home.”

Kyungsoo wants to argue, but the buses aren’t running and a free ride is a free ride. Jongdae’s car in the building’s lot is a little beat up but surprisingly clean, with a pine scent hanger dangling off the rearview mirror next to some fuzzy dice. Kyungsoo is too sleepy to make conversation, eyes drooping shut with the lull of the engine, but at least the night is blessedly cool and gentle, a breath of fresh air. He mumbles sleepy directions back to his house and listens to Jongdae’s soft music with his head against the window, trying to stay awake and failing. The moon is full and shines a bright white above the waves as they drive alongside the ocean, the stars almost remind him of the moles dotting Jongdae’s face and chest, but the passing similarity disappears as quickly as it had arrived. Jongdae’s face seems so solemn when he’s driving, focused on the road and silent, even if his fingers still tap out an incessant beat --it makes Kyungsoo want to reach out, impulsively, for some reason, to fix whatever’s missing in the picture, but he can’t; his hands clench into fists within his hoodie pockets instead.

“Just here on the left,” Kyungsoo directs softly when his street comes into view, Jongdae easily parking out front and stopping the engine. It’s dead silent, the street empty, and Kyungsoo for some reason doesn’t move, frozen in place, waiting.

“Tonight was fun,” Jongdae says suddenly, and it’s like something just… deflates, and everything is normal again. “We should hang out again soon.”

“‘Hang out again’,” Kyungsoo quotes, mumbling, and Jongdae’s expression is half-lidded and sly.

“Next time, maybe, you can fuck my mouth,” he suggests, and Kyungsoo is flooded with such a mix of arousal and embarrassment simultaneously he’s not sure what to do with either.

“Asshole,” he mumbles, focusing on the embarrassment for now as his ears turn red and he reaches out to punch Jongdae’s shoulder, but stops. “See if I ever ‘hang out’ with you again.”

Jongdae just smirks. “Few can resist me,” he sighs wistfully, staring out the front window. Kyungsoo resists the urge to punch him again.

“Thanks for the lift,” he says curtly, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll… see you later.”

Jongdae’s smile is lopsided, sleepy, boyish and cute . Kyungsoo’s heart squeezes, just a little.

“See you ‘round,” Jongdae agrees.

Kyungsoo only hears the car leave once the front door is shut behind him, resting the back of his head against it briefly. He’s still wearing Jongdae’s hoodie, which he only notices once he throws it to the floor and suddenly things don’t smell as… Jongdae anymore. He’ll just have to give it back next time.

Despite Jongdae’s promises of next time, Kyungsoo doesn’t hear from him for a week.

Kyungsoo being himself, hasn’t sent Jongdae any texts, but it’s not like Jongdae has sent any back? Kyungsoo would take it as a sign from Jongdae that he’s not interested in a round three and would be fine with that if it weren’t for the fact that Jongdae had… seemed keen? At least from what Kyungsoo can remember in the sleepy memories of when they’d last seen each other.

Kyungsoo frowns at his phone, hiding it in the front pocket of his apron. Jongdae’s probably doing that fuckboy thing where he plays hard-to-get so that Kyungsoo will come crawling back on his knees or something. Ha, Kyungsoo locks the phone and shoves it into his apron as he looks up snidely. As if.

“Are you okay?” Soojung asks, brown hair tied neatly behind her in a netted bun as she gives Kyungsoo a worried frown from behind the counter. Coming from Soojung, the concern speaks mountains. “You seem kind of…”

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo is quick to insist, never wanting other people to waste their time being worried about him, but more than that, also isn’t anything other than fine. If Jongdae is going to play the silent game, then fine. His loss. Kyungsoo doesn’t care, he has no emotional investment in the relationship of a two-night stand, it’s water under a bridge.

In the late afternoon, as his shift is wrapping up, Kyungsoo is torn from his wandering thoughts while mindlessly restocking the blueberries by a familiar laugh. It’s a pavlovian response to look towards it as he sees Jongdae coming through the glass sliding doors, laughing with another man beside him with his hands in the pockets of his shorts casually. Fuck, he looks good, but the sight of the person with him only causes Kyungsoo’s hands to tighten around the metal scoop.

Jongdae hasn’t noticed him yet, still facing his friend and laughing, so Kyungsoo does the smartest thing he can think of upon seeing his (ex?) friends-with-benefits with a very attractive stranger in his aunt’s frozen yoghurt shop while he’s on shift.

He immediately ducks behind the counter to hide.

Kyungsoo carefully peers over the top as Jongdae and his friend (hell, maybe he’s found something newer and better than Kyungsoo) make their way over to the yoghurt machines, reaching for the medium sized cups.

“Um,” Soojung says, looking at Kyungsoo from the floor. “Now you’re definitely not okay.”

“I’m just,” Kyungsoo busies himself with opening the panels underneath the counter, pretending to look for something. “Getting a new scoop.”

“Uh-huh,” Soojung says, sounding entirely like she doesn’t believe Kyungsoo as she crouches down to pluck the scoop that’s already in his other hand. Damn it. Her eyes trail over to Jongdae and his friend at that machines knowingly, and when Kyungsoo peeks his head over the top he has to duck down quickly just so Jongdae won’t see him since he’d been looking in that direction.

“What is he, your ex?” Soojung asks, obviously amused.

“No,” Kyungsoo quickly says. “I just…” Kyungsoo’s ears are burning, he isn’t sure why he doesn’t want Jongdae to see him, just that he doesn’t. Kyungsoo isn’t sure if it’s because he’s trying his own silent treatment, the embarrassment of the apron around his waist, or the stranger with him. He just doesn’t.

“Do your job please,” Soojung says disinterestedly, and she’s pulling him up by the back of the shirt which makes Kyungsoo stumble a little on his feet with a loud squeak as she does so, causing Jongdae and his friend to turn at the sound. (And every other customer in the store, great.)

Kyungsoo’s face is so warm it might just melt.

Jongdae immediately grins at him sunily and gives a little wave, which Kyungsoo returns, as polite and respectable as always, never causing a scene. Jongdae eagerly takes his cup to the toppings sections, spooning them over accordingly, and quickly heads to the counter where Kyungsoo is working the register.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” is the first thing Jongdae says, still smiling.

“Um,” Kyungsoo swallows. “My aunt owns the shop so… I help out over the summer.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says, blinking cutely. “Tell her it’s really great and I love this place. The pineapple yoghurt is awesome.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Kyungsoo replies, smiling hesitantly in return.

Jongdae puts his cup on the scale to be weighed, but he waits for his friend to add his before paying, Kyungsoo dutifully reading out the price as Jongdae forks over a twenty.

“This is Yixing, by the way, Yixing this is Kyungsoo,” Jongdae introduces, as Kyungsoo and Yixing exchange a nod and small hi ’s. “Sorry I haven’t uh, hung out with you lately,” Jongdae’s smile is lopsided, but there’s an edge of coy to it. “I’ve been swamped with rehearsals all week, it’s exhausting.”

“He’s also allergic to using his phone,” Yixing adds, which earns him an elbow to the stomach.

“Rehearsals?” Kyungsoo asks, tilting his head.

“We’re in the community centre’s summer production of Seussical,” Yixing helpfully responds, clapping Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Seussical?” Kyungsoo repeats, biting his lip trying not to laugh.

Jongdae just sighs as Yixing bursts into laughter, Kyungsoo stil stifling his. “I didn’t pick it, okay? I audition every year. It’s actually a good musical--”

Kyungsoo just laughs at Jongdae’s embarrassment, unable to hold back.

“I’m sure it’s great,” Kyungsoo reassures, still smiling. “You’ll have to tell me when tickets are out.”

Jongdae softens, defensive expression melting into something Kyungsoo can only describe as vulnerable. Vulnerable, but relieved.

“Of course,” Jongdae replies, and his classic smug smirk is back in place. Kyungsoo slides his change over the counter, coins stacked neatly on a single bill. Jongdae reaches to take it, and still their hands brush. Damn. “We should hang out tomorrow,” Jongdae suggests suddenly, causing Kyungsoo to turn warm. “Like uh, actual hanging out.” Yixing arches an eyebrow, and Jongdae just elbows him without looking, Kyungsoo holding back a smile at it. “Chanyeol and I were gonna have a few drinks on the beach, invite a few others, just chillin’, y’know?”

“Yeah without the netflix,” Yixing mumbles so Jongdae elbows him again, Soojung snorting and immediately pretending like she totally isn’t eavesdropping on their conversation as she cleans out the raspberry container.

“What do you say?” Jongdae asks, eager and open, that vulnerability again. It’s strange, Kyungsoo thinks, because Jongdae could be lying to him or messing with him or anything, yet Kyungsoo believes his rehearsal excuse so readily, and can see the way Jongdae is trying to make it up so desperately in the way he’s looking at Kyungsoo, biting the side of his cheek.

“I’ll think about it,” Kyungsoo decides wryly, then waves his hands. “Now shoo, you’re holding up the line.”

Jongdae looks behind him. “But there is no line--” He’s quickly tugged away by Yixing’s hand gripping his ear.

“It was nice meeting you Kyungsoo,” Yixing says quickly as he pulls Jongdae away, who’s yelling ow ow ow as he does so, Kyungsoo barely managing to hear Yixing mutter, might as well just get up on a table and profess your love the poor guy at his workplace, next time--

“So,” Soojung says immediately, pouncing onto Kyungsoo like a cat that’s toying with a mouse between its claws, grinning viciously. “ Actual hanging out, huh?”

“Goodbye,” Kyungsoo says shortly, turning on his heel to the storage room to get more frozen raspberries. He can hear Soojung’s laugh the whole way there.

[2:02 pm] waterfront @ 9

[4:54 pm] need a ride?

Kyungsoo rolls his phone around in his palm as he reads over the string of messages for the umpteenth time, frowning. Waterfront --an area of beach near the main pier-- isn’t too far from Kyungsoo’s place, about a fifteen minute walk, yet Jongdae’s offer of a lift might still be nice… But for some reason Kyungsoo hesitates. He doesn’t want to be owing any favours, he doesn’t need Jongdae’s unnecessary kindness, and more than that…

He doesn’t want Baekhyun and Jongdae to meet. Ever.

“Hey Soo,” Baekhyun starts, poking his head through Kyungsoo’s bedroom door with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Do you have a--” he cuts off, spotting Kyungsoo staring at his phone screen, open and unlocked on his text messages. “Oh?” Baekhyun takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. “Texting your lover boy?”

And this is exactly why Kyungsoo never wants them to meet.

But it is , some part of him reasons, inevitable. Baekhyun had barged into Kyungsoo’s house at seven revealing that Chanyeol had told him about Jongdae’s invitation towards Kyungsoo for tonight --which Kyungsoo had winced at, because of course Baekhyun would be there-- and Kyungsoo had deflected the conversation by pointing out that Baekhyun and Chanyeol text now, apparently. (Baekhyun had just waved his hands and said friends close, enemies closer, you know the drill . Kyungsoo is still suspicious.)

“He asked me if I wanted a ride,” Kyungsoo replies, frowning at his phone before locking it.

“So what’re you waiting for? Take it.” Baekhyun walks back out to the bathroom down the hall and Kyungsoo hears him spit before the pipes groan with running water and Baekhyun is back in his bedroom, wiping his mouth dry on the back of his arm. “God bless a man that can drive. Nice catch, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes and reaches out to kick Baekhyun even from the bed, Baekhyun yelping as he quickly dodges.

“I don’t want to inconvenience him,” Kyungsoo replies, frowning all over again.

“He offered, didn’t he?” Baekhyun says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to pick up his phone and change the song he’s currently playing through Kyungsoo’s bluetooth speakers. “Honestly I know you have an independence complex and a phobia of human interaction, but letting a dude you’re fucking drive you five minutes down the road isn’t the end of the world.”

Kyungsoo glares a little, shirking into his shoulders. “I just wanted to know if you’d mind, that’s all,” he mutters, defensive.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Baekhyun replies, scrolling through his phone as he rolls his eyes. “I wanna meet your boytoy properly, anyway.”

Kyungsoo throws a pillow at his head. “Not my boytoy,” he grits out.

Baekhyun’s grinning as the pillow falls off his face. “Just keep telling yourself that.”

[7:38 pm] A lift would be great.

Jongdae arrives at Kyungsoo’s house by eight-fifty, texting him to say he’s waiting outside since Kyungsoo had warned him not to knock or else that’s a can of worms with his mom and aunt in the house he doesn’t want to deal with. They don’t even make it out to him until eight fifty-six due to Baekhyun chatting up Kyungsoo’s mom and aunt in the kitchen as they leave, ending only because Kyungsoo drags him out with a white-knuckled grip around Baekhyun’s forearm. Honestly.

Jongdae’s leaning against the passenger side as Kyungsoo pulls Baekhyun out and quickly slams the front door shut, just to make sure his mom doesn’t see the fresh meat (Jongdae) waiting for them. He’s scrolling through his phone idly and underneath the streetlights with his hair tied back in a loose ponytail, only a few stray curls hanging, with his woven bracelets, tight t-shirt and shorts, showing off the definition of muscle packed underneath sun-kissed skin. Kyungsoo’s fingertips itch.

“Hey,” Jongdae says, giving Kyungsoo a lopsided smile. “Finally decided to show up?”

Baekhyun just wolf whistles. “Dangggggggg,” he says, circling Jongdae briefly who just looks really confused by it before clapping his shoulder. “Nice to meet you good lookin’, I’m Baekhyun.”

“Ah, expensive drinks guy,” Jongdae says by realisation, surprising Kyungsoo that he could even remember that. Jongdae holds up a hand even if Baekhyun is practically hugging him. “Jongdae. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh don’t worry, I know,” Baekhyun takes the hand and shakes it firmly. “And to be fair, those beers did cost me my soul.”

Jongdae laughs easily in a way that makes Kyungsoo’s gut twist, but Baekhyun disconnects from his side to open the passenger door and slip in with their drinks on his lap, leaving Kyungsoo to blink numbly on the sidewalk. Jongdae, still grinning, just shrugs and opens the back door for Kyungsoo, who slides in with a grumble under his breath, Jongdae shutting it behind him.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Baekhyun says easily, as Jongdae just laughs and starts the engine. He’s laughing so much, almost too much, laughing is the number one way to get Baekhyun to like you, and Kyungsoo himself doesn’t like that . He can see the greed sparkling in Baekhyun’s eyes, it’s his just collected a new friend sparkle. Ugh, the last thing Kyungsoo needs is Baekhyun rubbing his hands all over Jongdae; the less intertwined their relationship is, the smoother the inevitable ending will be.

“So…” Baekhyun starts. “‘Jongdae’...” he says it with air quotes, filled with suspicion, meaning Kyungsoo promptly facepalms in the backseat, groaning. “Tell me about yourself, what do you do, what’s your favourite colour, hobbies, greatest fears…”

“Uh,” Jongdae says, eyes still trained on the road. “I’m a fine arts major specialising in painting but I work part time at the campus supply store, my favourite colour is pink I like photography and surfing and my greatest fear is rejection.” He gives Baekhyun a sideways smile, who just looks a little stunned. “You playing the overprotective best friend or what?”

“Oh he’s good,” Baekhyun turns to Kyungsoo. “Don’t you think he’s good?”

Kyungsoo’s response is to reach forward and pinch the back of Baekhyun’s neck, who immediately crumples and makes various noises of pain.

“He’s not being protective of anything, he’s just nosey,” Kyungsoo grits out. “Aren’t you, Baekhyun?”

“If I say yes will you stop?” He barely manages, voice at an inhuman pitch. Kyungsoo pinches harder. “Ow okay okay I’m just being nosey!!” Kyungsoo leans back, satisfied, as Baekhyun rubs the red spot on his neck. “I hope he isn’t that violent in bed.”

Kyungsoo groans in embarrassment because he knew this car ride was a mistake, but Jongdae just laughs.

“Actually he’s surprisingly gentle,” Jongdae says, so nonchalantly as if they aren’t discussing their sex life . “If anything I’d say I’m probably the rough one but I’m pretty sure Kyungsoo--”

Jongdae is cut off by Kyungsoo reaching around the driver’s seat to clap both hands over Jongdae’s mouth, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

Baekhyun’s grin widens hungrily . “Kyungsoo likes it rough, huh?”

“We have rules, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo threatens lowly as Jongdae just reaches up to bat his hands away, Kyungsoo curling up defensively in the backseat as his arms fall. Something in Baekhyun’s shit-eating expression falters, but just for a moment.

“I’m surprised he doesn’t tell you?” Jongdae says to Baekhyun, ignoring Kyungsoo’s threat altogether.

“Have you met Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun jabs a thumb in the direction of the backseat. “He’s a feisty ball of secrets.”

“I’m right here,” Kyungsoo says, although it remains ignored.

“Huh,” Jongdae muses, and makes brief eye contact with Kyungsoo through the rearview mirror. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, meaning Jongdae just grins at him, and Baekhyun says, “Just tell me this, Jongdae,” immediately causing Kyungsoo’s spidey-sense to tingle in anticipation of danger. “... Is he good?”

“I will murder you,” Kyungsoo threatens.

Jongdae’s grin is vicious. “Even better than you’d expect.”

Kyungsoo just groans as Jongdae laughs, completely unthreatened as he breaks their rules, and Baekhyun looks a little shocked, discovering his best friend’s sexual prowess like this. Kyungsoo just sinks into the back seat a little harder and prays for the swift release of death.

Jongdae pulls into the free parking lot, and grabs his drinks from the trunk as Baekhyun stretches into the night air, Kyungsoo sliding out of the backseat. He pinches Baekhyun’s ribs pointedly.

“Ow!” He yelps. “What the hell!?”

“You deserved it,” Kyungsoo mumbles, with no further explanation, and stubbornly head towards the beach, Jongdae’s laughter ringing behind him.

There’s no fire, this time, just a few picnic rugs on the sand and a bluetooth speaker, Chanyeol and Sehun chatting idly as Baekhyun quickly grins and heads over to them, plopping himself right in the middle. Joohyun and Sooyoung wriggle over to accommodate.  

“Xing and Lu should be here soon,” Jongdae says as he sits down, chucking his six pack into the sand behind him, uncaring. He pats the spot next to him and smiles sweetly at Kyungsoo, who rolls his eyes as he pointedly sits on the opposite side to the one Jongdae had gestured to. Ha, that’ll show him.

Jongdae just snorts like he can read Kyungsoo’s mind, and Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, Jongdae ignoring him altogether.

“Hello to you too,” Chanyeol comments wryly, as Jongdae just huffs. “Thanks for being the delivery boy.” He reaches back behind Baekhyun for one of the beer bottles and takes it, twisting the lid off and tipping his bottle towards Jongdae.

“Hey!” Baekhyun whines, indignant, and Chanyeol only laughs as Baekhyun attempts to steal the drink back, practically crawling into his lap in the process, petulant. Sehun tugs him back by the collar of his shirt until Baekhyun is sitting in his own spot again, pouting.

“You can have one of mine instead,” Jongdae offers, murmuring it into the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear. Goosebumps erupt because of the proximity, but he ignores the sensation.

“Who says I want your charity?” He counters, coy, arching an eyebrow.

“Consider it a gift,” Jongdae amends teasingly. “My liege.”

Kyungsoo just shakes his head as Jongdae giggles, but reaches to take the bottle Jongdae had opened himself, instead of a new one. Jongdae’s jaw just drops a little, obviously offended, but Kyungsoo shrugs harmlessly and takes a long sip, not giving it back. Jongdae’s laugh is reluctant, but as sweet as always.

It’s easy to fall into conversation after that, as Kyungsoo makes polite smalltalk with Joohyun beside him that ends only once Yixing sits on the other side of Jongdae thigh-to-thigh and his concentration breaks, noticing their easy familiarity and wondering what their relationship is like. Sooyoung complains about her swimming coach and Kyungsoo nods animatedly while trying not to burn up with the way Jongdae’s fingers are tracing circles absentmindedly on his lower back. It’s such a small, secretive gesture, but his thumb occasionally dips beneath the hem of Kyungsoo’s shirt and brushes against Kyungsoo’s bare skin and suddenly even in the heat of summer Kyungsoo is too cold.

He wants to pull away, but doesn’t know how to without making it obvious, and simultaneously somehow wants to lean further into Jongdae’s touch. Everything about Jongdae confuses Kyungsoo, the inconsistencies, the ease, and the two beers he’s had doesn’t help with the incoherent processing of his thoughts.

The night grows colder as the sun’s lingering warmth dissipates, so when Chanyeol offers to go grab a few more blankets from his car, asking for an extra hand, Jongdae offers easily, as kind as always, and when he pulls away Kyungsoo is far too aware of the lack of warmth, watching him leave.

Joohyun is wrapped up in a conversation with Sooyoung and Sehun now that Kyungsoo doesn’t understand, Baekhyun half sitting in Sehun’s lap, meaning the empty space to his left is oddly noticeable. Suddenly, Yixing is moving over though, leaving the one person Kyungsoo doesn’t know, Lu Han, to talk to Baekhyun freely.

Kyungsoo tears his eyes away from where Jongdae’s figure had melded into the darkness. “You should be careful with him, you know,” Yixing says suddenly.

It’s an odd thing to say, so Kyungsoo blinks at him owlishly, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Yixing just shrugs, and his words are a little slurred, far too drunk, with Kyungsoo being tipsy enough to excuse how odd this conversation is to begin with. “Jongdae,” Yixing enthusiastically supplies. “You should be careful with him. What you’re doing.”

Maybe Yixing is to Jongdae what Baekhyun is to Kyungsoo? It’s hard to say, Kyungsoo knows a lot of weird things about Jongdae, like the fact that he takes pictures of food he eats and likes to surf and enjoys rom-coms, but there are a lot of things he doesn’t quite understand either, or know. Things he wants to, and will, in time, but their... relationship, if you could even call it that, is still relatively new.

“I know,” Kyungsoo answers easily, shrugging stiffly. “He’s the heartbreaker type, isn’t he?” Kyungsoo huffs lightly. “That’s why my heart isn’t in this.”

Yixing stares at Kyungsoo, blinking slowly, and then he shakes his head. “No, you need to be careful,” he amends, still slurring. “With Jongdae, he’s fragile.”

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asks, and Yixing makes a strained face because Kyungsoo is asking for clarity a drunk mind can’t quite give.

“Jongdae is… fragile,” he repeats, eyebrows furrowed together and frowning in a way that shows off his dimple, although not quite as deep if he were smiling. “Sticky. Clingy.” Yixing makes a vague hand gesture. “He’s a good actor, y’know, but he’s a singer first… not really meant to perform all the time.”

Yixing makes less sense the more he talks, and it’s a side-effect of the alcohol, but Kyungsoo is also too drunk to really understand. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Just be careful,” Yixing amends, sighing. “I’m trying to be a good friend and look out for him, but you’re dangerous. And Jongdae is reckless.”

Kyungsoo isn’t sure in what world he’s dangerous when Jongdae is the confident, smug one with an air of arrogance and too much pride, trying to string Kyungsoo along and playing far too many games, texting him only when he wants something and leaving him in radio silence for the rest.

He’s about to explain as much, a little indignant, maybe, that Yixing doesn’t need to tell Kyungsoo what to do, that Yixing doesn’t know a thing about Kyungsoo, and that Jongdae is the one who should be scolded or… whatever this is, but then Jongdae is berating Yixing for stealing his seat and plopping himself down in one swift movement as he tosses a blanket over Kyungsoo’s shoulders and his own like it’s nothing asking cutely, “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Nothing interesting,” Yixing reassures with a lopsided smile, and Kyungsoo moves to push the blanket off his shoulders, Jongdae turning at the movement and frowning.

“Hey,” he scolds. “It’s cold.” He pushes the blanket back up. “Don’t be so tsun about it.”

Kyungsoo really wishes he hasn’t watched enough anime to know what that means. “I’m not that cold,” he lies. It’s chilly without Jongdae, but too burning with. Kyungsoo can never seem to win.

“Of course you are,” Jongdae teases, poking Kyungsoo’s chest. “So much ice in your little tsundere heart, waiting to be melted.”

Kyungsoo swats Jongdae’s hands away, who laughs, and Yixing turns back to face Lu Han as if he’d been watching something he shouldn’t have. Suddenly Kyungsoo feels alone with Jongdae even though they’re surrounded by people, which is probably why he can’t find it within himself to complain when Jongdae snuggles himself even closer, mostly to piss Kyungsoo off, and jerks his chin to the opposite side of the circle, gesturing to Baekhyun in Sehun’s lap.

“What do you think the deal is there?” He asks quietly, barely above a murmur, gentler than the sea breeze or the slow rolling of waves, but loud enough that it can just be for Kyungsoo. “All three of them.”

“Baekhyun and Chanyeol both like Sehun who can’t make a choice,” Kyungsoo replies, equally as secretive. “Obviously.”

“Nah that’s just the boring answer,” Jongdae teases, lips turning up into a curl. His eyes shine in the darkness, even though they’re just as black. “I reckon Baekhyun likes Sehun who likes Chanyeol who likes Baekhyun.”

Kyungsoo snorts at that, unable to resist. “Chanyeol and Baekhyun hate each other.”

“Or it’s UST,” Jongdae amends, hiding his pleased smile by taking a long sip. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Maybe Sehun likes neither of them and just wants to help them fuck it out.”

Kyungsoo fully laughs at the thought, and Jongdae’s smile widens even further. His mouth is far too good at many things, not all of them PG rated, but smiling is definitely one of Kyungsoo’s favourites. Maybe alongside kissing.

“Maybe we should make a bet about it,” Kyungsoo jokes, a little hesitant. “About which two will be end game.” He has an easy advantage knowing where Baekhyun’s feelings lie, which is why it’s all the more entertaining that Jongdae is as cocky about this as he is about everything else, always so self-assured.

“Alright,” Jongdae agrees easily. “I bet on Chanyeol and Baekhyun.”

“And I bet on Sehun and Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo counters.

“Whoever wins has to do whatever the other says for an hour?” Jongdae suggests, stealing a strange amount of air from Kyungsoo’s lungs as he does so with the way his eyes have sharpened.

“In the bedroom or out?” He asks quietly, quirking an eyebrow.

Jongdae’s smile easily pulls into a smirk. “Up to the winner.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, but agrees, with a small mumble, and then Jongdae is laughing against the curve of his neck as he asks if Kyungsoo often gambles over his friends’ love lives. He doesn’t, which he says, but Jongdae seems to have a weird habit of getting Kyungsoo to do things he wouldn’t usually  --that part, Kyungsoo doesn’t say.

Kyungsoo learns more about Jongdae by watching him talk to the others, as the whole group gets roped into a big group discussion about work stories, hearing about Chanyeol’s frustrations at the music store and Jongdae complaining about people who don’t know what textbooks they need but expect Jongdae to. It’s interesting, not only because some of the stories the others bring to the table make Kyungsoo’s sides hurt, but just watching the way Jongdae interacts with others is… odd. It’s not like he’s a different person around Kyungsoo, or anything, but there’s just. Something there. Something that isn’t when it’s just the two of them.

Maybe they have more in common than Kyungsoo thought.

It’s interesting as the night moves on and Kyungsoo’s limbs grow more lethargic, how his drunken mind still lingers on what Yixing said, as he watches Jongdae talk. He’s not sure how to word the thing he sees when Jongdae’s watched by more than one person, the way he melds to fit other people’s shapes. It’s funny, Kyungsoo thinks, because he sometimes feels like everyone thinks he’s something he’s not, and never will be, whereas Jongdae is always trying to fill out those expectations. They’re two sides of the same coin.

Lu Han and Yixing are the first to excuse themselves to go home -- work early tomorrow , Yixing says, with a grunt from Lu Han-- and then Sehun and Chanyeol, much to Baekhyun’s obvious disgruntled tone. Baekhyun is still hugging Sehun goodbye as Jongdae pulls up Uber on his cracked iPhone screen.

“Why drive here if you’re going to get drunk?” Kyungsoo teases, and Jongdae softens again, like something within him melts when it’s just him and Kyungsoo --which doesn’t make sense, really, because Jongdae’s the one that’s always burning.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Jongdae answers easily. “And lazy.”

Kyungsoo smiles despite himself, and he’s not really sure why. Maybe it’s the way Jongdae labels himself with things that obviously don’t apply, or the fleeting thought that he might have driven just to save Kyungsoo the walk. It’s hard to tell, really, when he’s late and sleepy and it feels like his blood has been replaced by beer.

“You can just sleep at my place,” Kyungsoo says, pushing Jongdae’s phone down. “It’s closer and it’ll be easier for you. You can pick up your car tomorrow.”

Jongdae stares at Kyungsoo, licks his lips, swallows. Everything about Jongdae’s mouth and throat is intoxicating, and Kyungsoo stares at it a little too hard. Then, he blinks, and the moment is gone.

“Okay,” Jongdae agrees. “Thank you.”

Baekhyun whines about being tired when it’s just the three of them left, and easily wraps an arm over Jongdae’s shoulder as they stumble up the sand, Jongdae laughing drunkenly, completely unbothered. Baekhyun flashes Kyungsoo a cheeky grin, as if challenging his non-existent possessiveness over Jongdae, which earns an exasperated look, of course. Baekhyun is Kyungsoo’s best friend, but he still does that thing everyone else seems to do, sometimes, where they expect Kyungsoo to be something that he’s not.

Jongdae doesn’t do that.

Baekhyun is whining about unrequited love as Jongdae laughs loudly in the silence of the night, humouring him, and when Kyungsoo shivers, almost imperceptible, Jongdae just tugs him closer and wraps an arm around his shoulder like it’s nothing, and Kyungsoo tries not to think about how Jongdae is so warm he burns, like a sun he shouldn’t get too close to, or stare directly at.

It takes about twenty minutes of drunken stumbling until they’re down Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s street, and Baekhyun gives Jongdae a wet kiss on the cheek that has him laughing before pinching Kyungsoo’s, who slaps his hand away.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jongdae asks half-amusedly as they watch Baekhyun stumble up his porch steps, fumbling with his key for a bit before shoving it through the lock.

Kyungsoo knows Baekhyun’s drunk phases better than the back of his hand, and clumsy Baekhyun is nowhere near the danger zone, deceptively over-drunk, half because Baekhyun enjoys playing it up for comedy.

“He’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo reassures, wrapping a hand around Jongdae’s wrist, where his skin is warm and smooth. “C’mon.”

Kyungsoo gets them water while Jongdae uses the bathroom, and then hands him some clothes to sleep in. “Returning the favour,” he says, by way of explanation. Jongdae accepts them wordlessly, and collapses onto the bed with a grunt, sitting up only once Kyungsoo holds a glass of water above his head. He drinks dutifully, finishing with a parched gasp, and then places it on the nightstand as he pulls Kyungsoo closer by the hips.

“C’mere.” Jongdae says petulantly, and Kyungsoo’s drunk body falls easily, lacking balance and willpower. It’s a cold night, tonight, but it’ll be far too hot for cuddling by morning; Jongdae seems completely undeterred by this, however, or doesn’t even seem to be considering the fact. Jongdae’s cheek is squished against the pillow. “Sleep time.”

“Sleep time,” Kyungsoo agrees, with a breathy laugh, and wriggles slightly out of Jongdae’s grip only to turn off the bedside lamp. It’s strange, because they’ve slept together once before, but not without… having sex first… things with Jongdae always feel so natural and easy, Kyungsoo only questions them once it feels like it’s too late.

Despite the morning heat, Kyungsoo wakes up feeling a distinct lack of warmth. Jongdae is missing, his hoodie still folded over the back of Kyungsoo’s desk chair --he’d forgotten to tell him to take it home-- and Kyungsoo’s head feels like it wants to split open. Honestly, whoever says only old people get hangovers, they’re so wrong, and Kyungsoo kind of wishes they weren’t.

There’s a note on Kyungsoo’s bedside table on one of the post-its he used to use to annotate books in high school, the adhesive aged and far too sticky, with sorry, had rehearsal, didn’t want to wake you. Let’s hang out this week. With a curved mouth smiley drawn in the corner Kyungsoo assumes to be a self portrait. Despite the fact that it feels like an excuse or something, the post-it makes Kyungsoo smile. It’s a very… Jongdae thing to do, leaving something permanent like that. Makes sense for a boy as ever-bright as the sun with a habit of remembering every moment with a photograph to be allergic to something so ephemeral as a text message.

Kyungsoo refuses to let his mind linger on Jongdae’s promise to hang out.

Jongdae texts Kyungsoo suddenly one Wednesday after a few of their 'hang out' sessions, his phone buzzing where it’s playing music on the kitchen marble counter.

[12:06 pm] rehearsals ended early

[12:06 pm] can we hang out?

Kyungsoo stares at his screen, looks at the vegetables he’s halfway through chopping with a frown.

[12:07 pm] I’m cooking. Can it wait?

[12:07 pm] whats more important than me D:

Kyungsoo snorts despite himself.

[12:08 pm] Would you like a list?

[12:08 pm] no, u kno i cant handle rejection like that

[12:08 pm] can i come round then? ur not far from the centre and i wanna try ur cooking

[12:09 pm] You just want free food.

Kyungsoo’s grinning at his phone unrepentantly, and it’s strange --he has to reach up with a hand just to smooth it away.

[12:10 pm] im a man with many motives

[12:10 pm] that’s a yes, right?

[12:10 pm] How could I ever say no?

Jongdae knocks around twelve-forty, and Kyungsoo lets him in easily, ignoring Jongdae’s immediate whistle of awe.

“Wow,” he says, tugging at the string of Kyungsoo’s apron, tied around his neck, who swats away his fingers. “Look at you, the perfect house husband.”

“Too bad you’re not allowed to fall in love with me,” Kyungsoo says flatly, and Jongdae laughs easily as he’s Kyungsoo takes him to the kitchen, where he’s fiddling with a pot filled with noodles. Ink and Pepper come bounding up immediately, jumping up onto Jongdae’s calves as Kyungsoo scolds them, and he introduces them accordingly.

“Original names,” Jongdae comments wryly, although Kyungsoo doesn’t indulge him, worrying about his noodles instead. He’ll serve them cold later, but for now, Kyungsoo takes them out of the water to blow on them.

“What’re you doing?” Jongdae asks curiously, and comes up behind Kyungsoo to rest his chin on his shoulder, and place a hand on his hip.

“It gives them a better texture if you air them out of the water,” Kyungsoo explains, shifting to the other kitchen bench, and feeling the way Jongdae easily accommodates to move with him, refusing to detach.

“Who even taught you to cook?” Jongdae asks incredulously, licking his lips. “God, it smells so good.”

“My mom,” Kyungsoo answers. For the most part, anyway. He still remembers being too short to see over the kitchen counter, but his dad would hoist him on top so he could watch, and warn him away from the knives, saying he’d get a chance once he was older. They used to all be in the kitchen at once, the three of them, with his mother complaining about too many people in the kitchen while his father sang along to the radio and spun her around so that she’d laugh instead of scold him for letting Kyungsoo sit on the counter. Seungsoo never had any interest in that sort of stuff, even back then. “And myself. A lot of it is just practice.”

Jongdae hums, still watching. “I once set off our building fire alarm trying to make cookies from frozen supermarket dough.”

Kyungsoo laughs, startled out of him. “You’re a hazard everywhere you go, huh?”

“Yep,” Jongdae answers easily, with a toothy grin. “A total bad boy.”

“Should come with a warning sign,” Kyungsoo teases, poking Jongdae in the centre of his chest. “Hang it around your neck, right here.”

“Ah but even then you couldn’t resist me,” he taunts, and places a soft kiss to Kyungsoo’s shoulder blade. It’s a surprisingly intimate movement, all things considered, and Kyungsoo’s ears turn warm quickly. “Maybe I should learn from a master, huh?”

It turns out Jongdae really is hopeless, as Kyungsoo tries to teach him at least the basics of basics but Jongdae doesn’t even know how to chop an onion, and onions practically chop themselves for christ’s sake. It turns into Jongdae trying to be a nuisance as much as possible as Kyungsoo just laughs until his sides hurt and tries to kick him out, tossing diced onion at him when Jongdae leaves a smear of soy sauce across Kyungsoo’s cheek. They giggle and run in circles around the kitchen, breathless, trying to make the other as messy as possible, and it stops once only Jongdae pins Kyungsoo against the counter and kisses him.

Kyungsoo gasps on contact, and Jongdae takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, hoisting Kyungsoo onto the counter as the kiss deepens. Fuck, Jongdae’s mouth is just the worst, and Kyungsoo laughs as he tugs Jongdae closer by the back of his neck and Jongdae moans, a surprisingly guttural noise considering they’re just making out.

“Watching you cook is really hot…” Jongdae mumbles abashedly against Kyungsoo’s neck before placing a kiss there, and Kyungsoo snorts because… seriously. Jongdae has some weird fucking kinks.

“Is it now?” Kyungsoo teases, and Jongdae nods against his shoulder before picking up Kyungsoo’s left hand with his own, fiddling with the fingers.

“You have really nice hands....” Jongdae says softly, and something in the atmosphere shifts as Kyungsoo watches Jongdae press a kiss to the pads of his fingers, then the palm, then the inside of his wrist. “... They look really good when you’re cooking and stuff...”

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo goads, and pushes his hand against Jongdae’s lips, who inhales softly in return, trailing it torturously slowly down his neck and chest, along his stomach, scraping his nails just above the waistband of his pants. Slowly, maintaining eye contact with Jongdae’s hard and heavy gaze, satisfaction growing with each extreme pant of his chest, Kyungsoo circles his hand around to palm Jongdae’s ass slowly, who moans a little at the touch, hips bucking forward. Fuck, Jongdae’s responsiveness never ceases to turn Kyungsoo on, and it’s intoxicating to slide his thumb between the gap and tease a little, watching the way Jongdae’s eyes flutter--

The front door opens, and Kyungsoo quickly scrambles to stand, moving to the sink immediately to wash his hands and wipe at his mouth, fix his hair, regardless of whether Jongdae’s kisses show or not. Jongdae pretends to look casual as he leans against the counter as Kyungsoo’s mom walks in, face open in confusion as she takes in the scene in front of her.

“Hey mom,” Kyungsoo greets, shifting awkwardly, swallowing. Fuck, does she know? No, how can she-- “What’re you doing home so early?”

“I um-- forgot my lunch, just came to pick it up,” she opens the fridge slowly, pulling out the small tupperware container she carries with her to the office everyday. She blinks at Jongdae. “We haven’t met, have we?”

“No, I’m Jongdae,” Jongdae introduces easily, shaking her hand. He gives Kyungsoo’s mom a charming smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” she says, seemingly surprised. “I’m sorry it’s just… Kyungsoo doesn’t really bring friends home much. Other than Baekhyunnie, of course.”

“I only met him this summer mom,” Kyungsoo explains. He smiles at her, nudging her with his left hand. “You’re making me sound like a loser.”

“Okay okay,” his mother laughs. “I get the hint, I’ll get out of your hair. It was nice meeting you Jongdae, I hope to see you more often.”

“You too!" Jongdae cheerily calls back as Kyungsoo’s mom excuses herself to drive back to the office, adding, “Well, she was nice.”

And a cockblock, although Kyungsoo isn’t going to mention that. Jeez, why does his mom have to be the forgetful type?

“She’s the best mom in the world,” Kyungsoo says easily, draining the noodle pot.

“Ah, not true,” Jongdae argues, re-wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist. “You haven’t met mine.”

While they argue over their mothers’ respective best qualities, Kyungsoo serves up lunch, and they share it at the dining table together while Jongdae takes pictures of it and tries to start up rounds of footsie, to no success. It’s nice to just eat and hang out with someone --and have Jongdae compliment him endlessly-- and super comfortable, too. Kyungsoo really is beginning to warm up to Jongdae as more than just friends with benefits, and that might be a problem, although it’s hard to tell if it’s platonic or not. Kyungsoo’s mother isn’t really lying about Kyungsoo never having friends round, mostly because he just…. Doesn’t have any. Not in this town, at least. Not since he moved. He’s chronically uncommunicative if you can’t corner him IRL, and the amount of messages he’s forgotten to respond to from Jongin, Seungwan, and the rest of their group attests to that.

But that’s just how Kyungsoo is, and it’s part of the reason he can’t shake Baekhyun off. He won’t ever really say no to anyone, he just doesn’t initiate anything, and some people take that as a synonymous event. Kyungsoo is equally as happy to curl up in bed and watch TV as he is to go out for drinks with friends, it’s not exactly an award-worthy existence.

Jongdae helps Kyungsoo wash the dishes --which he assures he can do without setting anything on fire-- and maybe Kyungsoo shouldn’t be so surprised when they’re two pots in and suddenly Jongdae is pushing him up against the sink to kiss him again. It feels stupidly good even with rubber dish gloves on and the smell of lemon soap pervading through the air, which is probably why Kyungsoo has no qualms about leaving the dishes to ‘soak’ as he tugs off his apron and gloves and agrees to Jongdae’s proposal of giving him a proper house tour.

“Bathroom,” Kyungsoo explains as he tugs him upstairs and down the hall, gesturing quickly and not even bothering to open the door. “Mom’s room, Auntie’s room--” he skips Seungsoo’s old room, cutting off once he reaches the end, opening this door. “--Mine.”

“Ooooh, the vampire’s lair…” Jongdae says, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes before tugging Jongdae in and shutting the door behind him. It’s still afternoon, so the light through the open curtains is enough, and Kyungsoo frowns because daytime sex is… kind of weird, truth be told.

Jongdae bounces onto Kyungsoo’s bed, and his sudden laugh surprises Kyungsoo as he not-so-subtly retrieves lube and condoms from under his bed.

“La La Land, huh?” Jongdae teases, gesturing to the poster Kyungsoo has tacked to the far wall.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo retaliates, kneeling on the mattress besides Jongdae. “I enjoyed it.”

“You secretly love rom-coms, don’t you?” Jongdae teases, sly, and Kyungsoo knows his silence will be too telling, so he just leans forward to kiss him instead, cupping Jongdae’s face between his palms, who lets out a small noise in pleasant surprise. Jongdae returns the kisses greedily, and is all too compliant as Kyungsoo leans him down against the bed, crawling over him.

Jongdae’s already growing hard against Kyungsoo’s thigh, and, refusing to miss an opportunity to one-up somebody so smug, Kyungsoo says, “Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jongdae mumbles, with no bite to it. “I wasn’t kidding about your hands, okay, even when your mom showed up I couldn’t--” Jongdae inhales when Kyungsoo shifts against his hard on, swallowing. “--your fucking hands .”

“Okay we are officially banning mentioning my mom right now,” Kyungsoo quickly says, then uses his other hand to drag up the hem of Jongdae’s shirt. “But these ones, right?”

He makes a show of running his fingertips over Jongdae’s cheekbones, pressing against his lips. Jongdae’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation and he groans in the back of his throat.

“They’re so--” Jongdae inhales sharply. “-- You’re, so hot. Please fucking-- finger me or something, god.”

Kyungsoo smirks as the fantasy is finally revealed. Too easy. “You want it that badly?”

Jongdae is shameless as he opens his eyes to stare at Kyungsoo’s face. “Yes.” He admits without hesitation, and suddenly Kyungsoo feels a little caught off-guard. “I-- I want--”

Kyungsoo cups Jongdae’s ass briefly --he’s probably a little too obsessed with it, in hindsight, but so long as Jongdae doesn’t find out he’ll be fine-- before pressing at his perineum through his pants, just to watch the way Jongdae shudders beneath him.

Jongdae makes quick work of taking off his clothes once Kyungsoo tugs at them pointedly, and then Kyungsoo leans down to whisper in his ear, “Get on your stomach.” Jongdae obliges almost immediately, and Kyungsoo strips out of his own clothes, rubbing lube between his fingers to cover them properly and dripping some down Jongdae’s backside, who inhales deeply at the sensation, exhaling slowly.

“You sure about this?” Kyungsoo asks quietly.

“Just fucking put them in Kyungsoo oh my god ,” Jongdae complains, and Kyungsoo shakes his head in exasperated fondness before pushing the first finger in, relishing in the moan Jongdae lets out at the feeling. Trust him to be as noisy with Kyungsoo’s fingers up his ass as he is everywhere else in life, jeez.

One finger turns to two and Jongdae says, “Oh fuck,” suddenly as Kyungsoo pushes in deeper in search of what he’s looking for. He finds it eventually with some gentle caressing, and Jongdae moans unabashedly as he rocks back against Kyungsoo’s fingers. Fuck, he’s so hot, and he’s so tight and warm around Kyungsoo’s fingers Kyungsoo’s getting dizzy with it all. He’s just fucking fingering him and Jongdae is this responsive and vocal and into it, Kyungsoo wonders if he could come on his fingers just like this.

Kyungsoo considers letting it happen, just to see, but Jongdae’s cries of pleasure and nonsensical encouragements are so intoxicating Kyungsoo wants to draw this all out even further, so he leans down and presses his tongue inside Jongdae, only to hear him gasp as his fingers fist at the sheets suddenly.

“Oh holy fuck,” Jongdae says, back arching as Kyungsoo uses one hand to spread him open a little better, and continues fingering him with the other. “A-Ah fuck, Kyungsoo--”

He doesn’t give Jongdae any time for respite, continuing to eat him out like Jongdae is water and Kyungsoo has been wandering in a desert all his life, the wet, obscene noises coming from his mouth seeming to only cause Jongdae to cry out louder. Once Jongdae is shaking from the sensations Kyungsoo pulls back, satisfied, and wipes the lube from his mouth, gasping softly for air.

“Fuck me,” Jongdae demands, turning over his shoulder to glare at Kyungsoo with lust blown eyes. “Fuck me before I find a way to do it myself.”

While the thought of Jongdae fingering himself in front of Kyungsoo provides a pleasant thought, Kyungsoo is all too happy to oblige in bringing the rest of his fantasy to reality as he spreads lube over his dick before teasing Jongdae with the head across his rim.

“Oh my god stop fucking teasing,” Jongdae growls, and Kyungsoo laughs quietly, satisfied, as he pushes in slowly, Jongdae humming in satisfaction as he adjusts. Fuck, he’s even tighter like this then he was with Kyungsoo’s fingers stretching him out, and Kyungsoo is pretty sure that any slight movement will have him coming. “You good back there, grandpa? Did you break a hip?”

“Well I am after you calling me that,” Kyungsoo says slowly, and pulls back so he can push in, bathing in the satisfaction of Jongdae’s strangled moan beneath him. He smirks before pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “Did I break your hip?”

“No,” Jongdae replies, and begins rocking back against Kyungsoo, the bed frame squeaking beneath him as Kyungsoo grips onto Jongdae’s hips to stop himself from collapsing, or coming, or both, roughly pulling Jongdae back onto himself. “Although I’d like to see you try.”

Jongdae’s smirk is all too smug and Kyungsoo, as per usual, wants to wipe it off, so he builds a steady rhythm, at first, long, hard, but slow strokes that have Jongdae cursing, writhing beneath him, half-begging and half-demanding for more, harder . Kyungsoo builds up to it, partly to tease Jongdae, partly for his own stamina, and a particular thrust has Jongdae swearing suddenly as he presses a palm against the headboard for balance, moaning long and guttural.

Kyungsoo kisses down Jongdae’s spine as he fucks him harder, the bed squeaking far too loudly and the headboard banging against the wall enough that Kyungsoo might have to check for dents and marks, later. Jongdae is just so fucking beautiful like this beneath him, Kyungsoo can’t help but run his hands over his back and chest and thighs, all eventually moving up towards his cock and relishing in the noise Jongdae makes at the first contact his poor dick has had all… afternoon?

“F-Fuck Kyungsoo don’t stop,” Jongdae says, panting.

“As if I would,” Kyungsoo replies, half-snorting, and Jongdae blindly swats behind him in an attempt to hit Kyungsoo, who snickers at the half a mile miss. He tries to keep consistent as he fucks into Jongdae, but it’s difficult when his rhythm is staggering in the face of how close Kyungsoo is to coming. It’s to the point where he can’t even stop himself, and he falls against Jongdae’s back as he comes, groaning into his shoulder as Jongdae rocks back against him to pull him through it, Kyungsoo gasping against his skin.

“Please Kyungsoo,” Jongdae begs, thrusting into Kyungsoo’s now-still palm. “I’m-- I’m so--”

Kyungsoo pulls out, come dripping out of Jongdae in the process, and swiftly bends down to lap it up all over again, causing Jongdae to cry out suddenly and clench at the sudden sensation and over-stimulation. Kyungsoo is relentless, though, listening to Jongdae’s moans like music, and inches his hand forward to continue jerking Jongdae off while fucking him with his tongue.

Jongdae comes pretty quickly, like that, dribbling between Kyungsoo’s fingers and onto the sheets --ugh-- collapsing with exertion face down onto the mattress, and then laughing.

“Can we please have non super intensive sex that isn’t drowning in chemistry like? Just once?” He jokes, grinning up at Kyungsoo as he props his head up with one hand on the pillows. Kyungsoo stands to wipe his hands off with tissues.

“No promises,” he mutters dryly, and glances out the open window, tugging the curtains closed. The sun is still up and Kyungsoo just had afternoon sex but damn, he wants a nap. “I always over-perform.”

Jongdae gives a short huff that tapers off to a reluctant laugh as he regards Kyungsoo. “Okay I take it back, you’re not that good.”

“Oh, really?” Kyungsoo teases, smiling, and leans over Jongdae as he presses a kiss to his mouth, Jongdae humming in contentment as he returns it slowly before pushing Kyungsoo away with two fingers against his shoulder.

“ Aaaand I just remembered where that mouth has been, no thanks,” he wrinkles his nose as Kyungsoo pulls away.

“I eat you out and this is how I’m repaid?” He asks. “You’re not the one who has to deal with the taste of cum over here.”

“Ummmmm nobody asked you to make all my felching dreams a reality.”

“Ugh, can we rename that kink?” Kyungsoo grimaces. “Worst name ever.”

“What would you call it?” Jongdae asks. “Come-eating? Hole-cleaning?” Kyungsoo ignores him. “Oooo maybe vacuuming the void--”

Kyungsoo slaps a palm over his face and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth; Jongdae’s laughter follows him down the hall.

Visiting Kyungsoo whenever rehearsals finish early for Jongdae becomes something of a routine, and on the days he isn’t working Kyungsoo becomes accustomed to checking his phone just to see Jongdae’s unabashed demands to be fed lunch after ‘a ‘tiring’ day spent singing and dancing. He doesn’t get breaks all too often considering he’s the lead --something Jongdae only offhandedly mentions once and Kyungsoo has to smother a chunk of his admiration and… pride?-- but occasionally there are scenes he doesn’t need to be present for, and a lot of the cast numbers, so Jongdae gets a half day or more. The community centre where they rehearse is closer to Kyungsoo’s house, Jongdae complains, so it’s just easier that way.

Or so he says, but Kyungsoo knows Jongdae is secretly maybe the single most horny person on the planet, and the amount of booty calls is getting a little excessive, even for the twenty-one year old man that Kyungsoo is.

Which is why when Jongdae pushes him up against a wall and tries to kiss him one afternoon, Kyungsoo just says, “I need to take the dogs for a walk.”

Jongdae pauses. Blinks.

“Okay,” he says easily. “I’ll come with.”

Jongdae takes Ink’s leash while Kyungsoo handles Pepper’s, a little bewildered that Jongdae is happy to forgo his booty call in favour of dog walking, but also kind of unsurprised too. When they’re not having sex they do spend quite a lot of time just hanging out, and Kyungsoo has begun to enjoy both sides of the experience, Jongdae a familiar company. The dogs won’t stop jumping as Jongdae purposefully riles them up by saying walkies? Walkies? In a babying voice while Kyungsoo ties his shoes.

“Man I love your dogs,” Jongdae says as he crouches down to pat Ink while she nips at his fingers, giggling. “I wish I had a dog.”

“Your parents don’t have one?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongdae shakes his head.

“My dad’s allergic, so... “ he trails off, but smiles at Kyungsoo sideways. “But I did have a fish when I was eight until it died and then my mom flushed it down the toilet while my brother and I cried..”

“That’s…. Grim…” Kyungsoo says awkwardly, and Jongdae just laughs.

“It’s just the circle of life,” Jongdae recites with faux-wisdom, and Kyungsoo doesn’t bother to hide his eye-roll, which just causes Jongdae to laugh, echoing around the empty street. It’s such a nice sound, Kyungsoo can’t even find it within himself to be embarrassed about it.

The sun and sand is hot, but the wind is cool. The off-leash area for dogs runs left of the entryway near Kyungsoo’s house, rather than the right towards the harbour and Waterfront, and both Ink and Pepper happily sprint across the sand as soon as they hear the click of their leashes snapping shut, unclipped. They’re reeled back in only by a tennis ball Jongdae pulls out of his hoodie pocket that Kyungsoo had handed to him earlier, watching it with hungry eyes as they just. Stop.

Jongdae feints a throw, and they both laugh as the dogs sprint towards nothing, only to stumble in confusion when they see that the ball is still in Jongdae’s hand. He throws it for real the next time, sailing across the clear blue sky, and Kyungsoo and Jongdae both kick off their sneakers before holding them in one hand, walking side by side.

“Man it’s so nice to get out,” Jongdae starts conversationally, craning his neck to the sky. “I’m so busy with rehearsals I haven’t had much time for anything else.”

Their town’s beach isn’t right for surfing, after all, too tucked into the bay. Jongdae had once explained he and Minseok usually drive out for the weekend to catch better waves, but with so much of his time being spent at the community centre this summer, his first time playing a lead, he hasn’t had a chance.

Kyungsoo hums in lazy agreement. “Sorry for wasting so much of your precious time then,” he teases, and Jongdae only frowns at him.

“Are you kidding me?” He asks, eyebrows raised upwards. “You’re like the best thing to happen all summer, Soo. I’d die of boredom without you.”

Which is stupid, because all they do is fuck and eat and do lazy hangouts, Kyungsoo-style, watching movies on Netflix as Kyungsoo pushes Jongdae’s chin away with two fingers because he always wants to makeout during the most important parts, for whatever reason.

“More like die of blue balls,” he comments dryly.

Jongdae is shameless as he replies, “That too.”

His grin is cheeky and boyish so Kyungsoo turns away in favour of calling the dogs over, Ink dutifully dropping the ball at his feet --Pepper is more prone to inducing a game of tag, so he’s glad Ink got it first.

Kyungsoo throws the ball further up the beach once again and says, “When do tickets come out for the musical, by the way?”

He’d been meaning to ask, only remembering now. Rehearsals have seemed to only increase throughout Jongdae’s schedule the closer they get to the actual production week.

“Hmm… this weekend I think?” Jongdae tries, lips pursed in thought. “Why?”

“Because I want to come see it…?” Kyungsoo says slowly, as if the answer wasn’t more obvious.

Jongdae’s surprised look would almost be insulting if it wasn’t so cute. “Oh. Really? I mean… it is Seussical. I wear a giant red-and-white hat and have a tail.”

Kyungsoo laughs. “I like musical theatre,” he nudges Jongdae’s ribs lightly with his elbow. “And I want to see you. Maybe I’ll come a couple of nights to see how you improve.” Jongdae is oddly silent, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Do you mind if I bring people?”

“Soo, it’s a community centre theatre show, I’m pretty sure only five people will be there, so please,” he claps his hands together. “Bring everyone you know.” His smile is brilliant. “Thank you, really… it means a lot to me.”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t support you?” He asks rhetorically, and stares unwaveringly at Jongdae to mask his own shock. It doesn’t surprise him that he considers Jongdae a friend more than… whatever he was before, with all the time they’ve spent together, but simultaneously, Kyungsoo isn’t an easy person to befriend, and he knows this. His standards are high for proper friendship, and he doesn’t offer himself out willingly. Yet here Jongdae is, having wormed in the cracks so easily Kyungsoo hadn’t even noticed how close he was to his heart until it was too late.

And that… that’s not good.

He’s pulled from the imminent crash-course of his thoughts by Pepper impatiently standing by the waves, wagging her tail with the ball between her paws. She obviously wants to go for a swim in the heat if she’s not consistently running away from Kyungsoo, although she still lunges for the ball when he tries to pick it up, although he’s faster.

“Throw it into the water,” he tells Jongdae, who looks at the ball Kyungsoo hands him curiously. “But not too far.”

Jongdae does as he’s told, and smiles in delight as Ink and Pepper both bound into the waves in a race for the ball, their tiny legs paddling delightfully as Jongdae quickly pulls out his phone to record it. Pepper is faster, and dumps the ball as soon as she’s back on shore, shaking the water off her fur as Jongdae laughs, recoiling away from the spray. Kyungsoo easily walks into the water and gestures for Jongdae to follow as the dogs obediently paddle after them, happy to swim alongside them as Jongdae gently tosses the ball a little way ahead.

“Good girl,” he croons as Ink swims back to deliver the ball, patting her even through the water. Kyungsoo is happy to see that Ink and Pepper both take to Jongdae well, although it’s kind of unsurprising, because they like everybody, and everybody likes Jongdae, too.

The dogs get a break from the water when they reach the tidepools, happy to explore over the rocks as Kyungsoo tells Jongdae to keep the ball so that they don’t hurt themselves tripping over the rocks, or injure their claws on its hard surface. Jongdae is like a little kid when it comes to the rockpools, peering into the shallows and pointing out pretty shells or crabs and even a sea snail at one stage, and Kyungsoo can’t help but indulge the happy little smile on Jongdae’s face as he finds a sea sponge and squeezes some water out of it with a gentle prod.

They’re watching a crab scuttle along happily on either side of a small pool when Kyungsoo looks up and finds Jongdae is already watching him, raising an eyebrow at Kyungsoo as their gazes meet. His smile is small and playful and Kyungsoo hates the way heat flushes through his body in embarrassment, ears turning red, so he gently cups water between his palms and flings it at Jongdae’s face.

Jongdae’s eyes are squeezed shut in silent acceptance as Kyungsoo just laughs, but then he gets splashed too, and it’s war . Jongdae quickly hops flies over the rocks in an attempt to make it back to the sand before Kyungsoo’s wrath is unleashed, and he nearly makes it too, except Kyungsoo manages to just catch up in time and kick a pool at his feet so that a huge splash of water pelts against Jongdae’s back.

Kyungsoo is laughing so hard his cheeks hurt from smiling, but it turns into a somewhat muffled squeak of fear as Jongdae turns on his heel and tackles Kyungsoo’s waist, picking him up.

“Let me go what the fuck--” he argues, wriggling in his grip, but he’s helpless to do anything but suffer as Jongdae drags them both back into the water aside the rocks’ edge and spin Kyungsoo through it, both of them laughing as he does so.

Eventually Jongdae, feeling merciful, lets Kyungsoo down again, panting, but drips cold water down the back of his shirt quickly as Kyungsoo yelps and jumps forward.

Jongdae tugs on his hand to spin Kyungsoo to face him, instead of stepping away.

“And now we’re even,” he says, far too close, nose against Kyungsoo’s, and suddenly they’re kissing, and Kyungsoo doesn’t even care. They’re in public, under the sun and in the water, with waves lapping at their ankles and drenched in sea water, and yet it’s all too easy to wrap his arms around Jongdae’s neck as Jongdae’s hands rub circles on his hips, dipping under the hem of his t-shirt, as if they’ve kissed like this in public a hundred times before.

Jongdae walks Kyungsoo back to the sand and pulls him down into it, dirtying them further, and only presses his mouth insistently against Kyungsoo’s when Kyungsoo laughs at the clumsiness of it, easily making out in the sand. He’s forced to squeeze his eyes shut to the glare, nose wrinkled, and they’re not very good kisses since neither of them can stop smiling --far too much teeth-- and still, Kyungsoo just… doesn’t care.

They’re interrupted only by a third tongue licking their faces as Ink and Pepper sniff at them curiously to see why they’ve lowered themselves so much, eager for the opportunity of cuddles, and Jongdae just groans as he pulls Pepper into his arms and rolls off Kyungsoo onto his back, holding her against his chest and scratching at her stomach as she wriggles around playfully, trying to nip at his fingers in an attempt to break free.

Kyungsoo watches with a fond smile as his fingers gently dig into the wet nape of Ink’s neck, and once Jongdae releases Pepper she springs forth and spins in small circles on the sand, sticking her tail into the air in an attempt to make Jongdae play with her more. He jolts forward, as if going to reach for her, and she barks before running happily up the beach, preemptively creating distance for a chase that will never come.

Jongdae falls back into the sand with a smile and meets Kyungsoo’s eyes from where they’re lying shoulder-to-shoulder, sand smeared on his cheek and eyes crinkled from the glare, smile wide and unforgiving. Kyungsoo can’t hold his own back in return.

They just smile at each other, laughing breathlessly, and it’s broken only when Jongdae lets out an oomph as Pepper walks over his chest, licking at his nose.

“Okay okay,” he says consolingly, wrenching her lightly to his side as she collpases against him and patting her side so that she relaxes, both Jongdae and Kyungsoo just panting as they lie there in the sand, eyes closed.

“Wanna go get froyo?” Jongdae asks eventually, breaking the silence and waggling his eyebrows as he sits up, smiling at Kyungsoo. “My treat. Unless you get store discount, in which case: your treat.”

Kyungsoo just laughs as he pulls himself up, flicking a bit of sand at Jongdae, who whines.

“Sure,” he agrees.

Ink and Pepper are exhausted by the time they make it back to the beach steps, so they drop them both at home before taking the fifteen minute walk to Kyungsoo’s aunt’s store. They’re not actually blood-related, he explains to Jongdae once he asks, she’s just a friend of his mom’s who runs a couple of stores in the town, and they’ve lived together ever since the divorce, especially needed since Seungsoo moved overseas, but Jongdae shrugs and assures Kyungsoo that he gets it, the glass doors buzzing as they open.

It doesn’t even occur to Kyungsoo that he’s just told Jongdae one of his most private secrets --the truth about his family situation-- until he’s reaching for a small cup and just sort of pauses because… oh. Oh. This really isn’t good.

Jongdae reaches for a small cup too and Kyungsoo laughs, because there’s not a single world out there where Jongdae would choose to eat so little.

“Jongdae, it’s free,” he tells him, placing his hand over Jongdae’s. “You can get as much as you want.”

Jongdae grins sheepishly and happily reaches for the large cup, and Kyungsoo grimaces when he makes eye contact with Soojung at the cash register, who arches an eyebrow at him.

He approaches the toppings section, loading his up with the fresh-cut fruit and chocolate chips as Soojung leans conspiratorially forward and says, “On a date?”

Kyungsoo gives her an unimpressed stare. “Unlike some of us,” he jokes flatly. “I actually have friends.”

Soojung laughs rather than be bothered by Kyungsoo’s teasing, and waves him off.

Jongdae loads his cup up greedily with almost every flavour and topping, then is tugged away by Kyungsoo when he tries for the cash register. Jongdae waves at Soojung while Kyungsoo pulls him away as they exit and she calls, “Hey! Who said you got that for free!?!?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t even indulge her as they push through the open front doors, just gives Soojung a curt wave instead, who mockingly salutes in return.

“She seems cool,” Jongdae says. “Even though you seem to prevent me from ever meeting her, every time--”

Kyungsoo suppresses a shudder at the thought of Jongdae and Soojung ever meeting. Baekhyun alone had been enough.

“Soojung has worked there forever,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging. “We went to high school together. I do not need you ever having that much blackmail material.”

Jongdae laughs with a spoonful of pineapple frozen yoghurt in his mouth. “But Baekhyun’s fine, right?”

Well no, not really, but more so than Soojung. “Baekhyun has the memory of a goldfish,” Kyungsoo explains easily. And the attention span of one. “And he actually feels fear.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t threaten Soojung even if he tried, she grew up on a goat farm and has a two hour commute into town every day, working both in the yoghurt shop, her family’s farm, and going to university all on top of that to support herself and her family. Kyungsoo once watched her pick up a huntsman spider with her bare hands and fling out the window without caring; Soojung is not to be messed with. (Granted she’s also a softie with a sweet tooth and undyingly loyal to her friends, but still. Scary.)

“I can’t believe you use fear to keep your friends in line,” Jongdae laughs, licking a bit of yoghurt that sits persistently above his top lip. “You’re so… nice. A total softie, underneath all those spikes.”

He prods at Kyungsoo’s stomach to prove a point, and Kyungsoo lightly bats his hands away with a grumble, Jongdae’s smile slow-growing as he does so.

“But I guess they probably know that, huh?” He continues, eyes twinkling. “Otherwise they wouldn’t stick around.”

It’s a curious thing to say, one that has Kyungsoo pausing. Do they… stick around? He thinks of all the friends he’s had and lost, swept away by the current, and yet the amount that still bother him, push into his space and demand to catch up, keep him around. It’s an odd realisation to have on the sidewalk at sunset, with Jongdae humming as he happily eats yoghurt beside Kyungsoo, but maybe Kyungsoo is… really lucky, to have the people in his life that he does, when he’s done his best to push so many of them away.

And then, his heart aches, because one of those people is Jongdae, who initiates all their hangouts, all their booty calls, all their conversations, text or not, right from the start. Jongdae is seriously way, way too good of a person to waste his time in some pseudo-relationship with Kyungsoo --which is what it is, he knows, because the signs are all too clear; the fondness in Jongdae’s smile, the softness of the kisses, the way his company becomes more about seeing Jongdae and less about the sex-- and that… that sucks. Kyungsoo doesn’t want this to come to an end, but the alternative will only hurt even more, in the long run.

The realisation is cold, startling, and suddenly the pineapple yoghurt doesn’t taste quite as sweet, souring instead.

Kyungsoo still laughs at Jongdae when he somehow skillfully ends up with yoghurt on his nose, though, reaching forward to wipe it off with his thumb. Still giggling, Kyungsoo cuts off only once Jongdae presses their mouths together, warm and soft and tasting of pineapple. It only hurts more, but Kyungsoo curls his fingers into the lapels of Jongdae’s hoodie, just to give him this small indulgence, just this once.

Kyungsoo buys tickets for Jongdae’s musical on a Thursday night. He ropes Baekhyun and Soojung into going with him closing night, his mom for opening, and buys a third round for a show in the middle of production week, just for himself. The tickets are cheap and don’t hurt Kyungsoo’s yoghurt cash wallet, not to mention it’s something he wants for himself anyway. He’s interested to see how Jongdae will improve with each show, what will change, and he just wants to support his friend, first and foremost.

His lingering feelings and the knowledge of what Kyungsoo has to do doesn’t add to it. Not at all.

Baekhyun has a free house for the weekend while his parents celebrate their anniversary, which naturally means having over as many people as possible to get as drunk as possible.

And Kyungsoo, best-friend-on-duty and nextdoor neighbour, has absolutely no escape.

He’s pouring a few bags of chips into a bowl when Baekhyun says, “You invited your boytoy, right?”

“Not my boytoy,” Kyungsoo replies flatly. Jongdae had invited himself, really, when Kyungsoo had complained about having to go during a text conversation Jongdae had started one night, after Kyungsoo had turned down his booty call. He’d said, you’ll enjoy it more if I’m there, with a cheesy wink emoji, and Kyungsoo didn’t have the heart to argue.

“Boyfriend, then,” Baekhyun amends teasingly, and Kyungsoo doesn’t grace him with a response to that, wincing instead. Baekhyun catches the motion, obviously, and his face falls seriously as he says, “Hey, what’s that for--”

The front door rings. “I’ll get it,” Kyungsoo quickly says, dashing away before Baekhyun can poke further. It’s Sehun and Chanyeol, both holding drinks.

“Hey,” Sehun says, Chanyeol waving as Kyungsoo steps aside to let them pass. “Where does Baekhyun want these?” Sehun holds up the bottles.

“There’s a cooler in the backyard,” Baekhyun says with a grin as he appears, hugging them both --as in, hugging Chanyeol. “Just follow this hall to the end.”

Chanyeol salutes as he and Sehun move forward and Kyungsoo asks, “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen?” Baekhyun asks snidely, even though he definitely knows what Kyungsoo is talking about.

“You being so buddy-buddy with Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, pinching Baekhyun’s arm, who yelps.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t too busy in the bubble period of your summer romance you’d know the answer to that,” Baekhyun replies petulantly,  and Kyungsoo can't even counter against that because his words strike a little too true.

Again.

“Soo, chill, you’re allowed to hang out with other people,” Baekhyun consoles, and Kyungsoo hates that his guilt is so visible. Except it isn’t guilt, not really --not guilt about spending his time with Jongdae, at least-- because Kyungsoo doesn’t regret it in the slightest. It’s just guilt at all the other implications that strikes hard. Baekhyun pauses, watching Kyungsoo pensively. “Did something happen with you and Jongdae?”

“No,” Kyungsoo breathes out. Not yet, anyway. “It’s nothing.”

Baekhyun sighs in frustration, but lets Kyungsoo slip away to help Chanyeol and Sehun bury their drinks in ice. He’s startled by the memory of meeting Jongdae, that first week, and wipes the small smile on his face that rises with the back of his hand.

“I said to come at seven-thirty, and since it’s seven-thirty now, I guess everyone will be here in an hour or so.” Baekhyun grins as he dumps himself on an outside lounge chair next to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol and Sehun a little ways down by the foodbowl, Baekhyun watching them with a pensive expression.

If Baekhyun wanted to talk about it, he would, and the fact that he hasn’t only proves that it’s a problem. Baekhyun is like that, shouldering everbody else’s problems and internalising his own, visible from the crease between his eyebrows. Kyungsoo has never known how to break past that, because that’s not the sort of person he is; instead he just squeezes Baekhyun’s shoulder in silent reassurance, and hopes that’s enough.

People actually start showing up around eight-thirty, right as Baekhyun had predicted, Soojung and Sunyoung and a few other girls Kyungsoo doesn’t know. It expands from there, more of Sehun’s friends, more of Chanyeol’s, some people from high school who ask Kyungsoo about his life because it’s been forever, what the hell, man .

It’s a steady stream that borders somewhere between a house party and a gathering, music quiet and chill and people grouping up into circles to drink and talk. Kyungsoo is pulling a beer from the cooler when somebody says, “That’s pretty low-class for your usual, isn’t it?”

Jongdae is smiling, and Kyungsoo instinctively grins back. “I think my lowest class taste around here is actually you,” he jokes, and Jongdae puts a hand against his chest in feint hurt.

“You wound me,” he pouts cutely, Yixing appearing from behind him.

“Hey,” he greets Kyungsoo, as Kyungsoo timidly returns it. “Have you seen Lu Han?”

“Hmm, not yet,” Jongdae returns, and Yixing frowns before heading back into the crowd. “Sit with me?” Jongdae asks hopefully.

Kyungsoo jerks his chin to a few free spots next to Joohyun on the couch, and Jongdae wordlessly heads towards it, pulling Kyungsoo with him by his wrist.

They sit together as they merge into the conversation seamlessly, and it’s so easy, Kyungsoo thinks, as Jongdae places an arm behind his head, hand moving to the back of Kyungsoo’s neck and rubbing, ever so gently, enough to send shivers down Kyungsoo’s spine. Conversation becomes secondary to the way Jongdae’s touches elicit a response on Kyungsoo’s body, and judging by the small smile on his face as he sips at his beer, Jongdae is well aware of the fact.

It’s no surprise then, maybe, when Jongdae asks Kyungsoo to grab another drink with him he finds himself pushed into the kitchen instead, Jongdae’s mouth warm and insistent against his. Kyungsoo internally winces, having not expected Jongdae to want… this… here … hoping he could have more time, but apparently it’s inevitable.

Jongdae pulls back with an introspective hum. “C’mon Soo,” he goads, kissing Kyungsoo’s neck softly. “Feels like your heart isn’t it.”

It hurts more than it should.

Is it okay, Kyungsoo wonders, as Jongdae drags him down the hall, to have this, just one last time?

No, he reasons, it isn’t.

Kyungsoo is pulled from his thoughts abruptly as Jongdae holds an arm out to keep him from walking.

“Wh--” Kyungsoo starts to say, but Jongdae presses a finger to his lips and he cuts off, peering around the corner Jongdae gestures to.

It’s Chanyeol and Sehun, making out against the wall.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo curses quietly. “That’s going to break Baekhyun’s heart.”

“Well… not exactly,” Jongdae murmurs, and when Kyungsoo glances around the corner he sees Baekhyun opening his parents’ bedroom door and pulling an intertwined Chanyeol and Sehun through with him, who laugh as they stumble clumsily, the door slamming shut behind them.

“I guess we were both wrong,” Jongdae says after far too much silence.

Kyungsoo is… perplexed. “But we were also both right?” He’s also kind of impressed. “That’s Baekhyun’s parents’ room…” Kyungsoo trails off.

Jongdae bursts into laughter. “Gay threesome sex on your parent’s bed, huh?” He whistles impressively. “Kid’s got balls.”

Kyungsoo gives a half-laugh, half-wince, because that’s his best friend and hearing about his sex life is TMI, all while Jongdae tugs him upstairs and into Baekhyun’s bedroom, which is kind of the last place where Kyungsoo wants to have sex, ever. (Seriously, it has to be a top #3 for never-ever , right next to ‘hell’ and ‘in the middle of a public swimming pool’, which just seems dangerous and unsanitary --which is coming from Kyungsoo, who could do with a health and safety class, he knows, truth be told.)

But even the turn off of Baekhyun’s huge poster of Illaoi from League of Legends glaring at them isn’t enough to deter Jongdae from kissing Kyungsoo again, both gentle and insistent in that special way of his, mouth soft and warm and so, so familiar to Kyungsoo. He doesn’t want to let go of this, doesn’t want it to end, wishes he could just keep kissing Jongdae like this --maybe not in Baekhyun’s bedroom so much-- forever, without feelings or mess or complications

But life isn’t so simple.

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says gently. “We need to stop.”

Jongdae pauses with Kyungsoo in front of him, pulling back slowly, hands on Kyungsoo’s waist. “Oh.” He says lamely, blinking. “Okay… Sorry, do you want to go back out or--”

Kyungsoo gulps, wetting his lips. He didn’t want to do this here, tonight of all nights, but he can’t risk Jongdae trying again.

“No I mean stop… all of this Jongdae.” Kyungsoo exhales quickly. “You, me... Us-- this .” He gestures between them, avoiding Jongdae’s eyes. “All of it it just-- It needs to stop.”

Jongdae steps back, putting distance between them, and it forces Kyungsoo into glancing up, just to see his face. It’s completely unreadable.

“Why?” Jongdae asks cleanly, mask stony and unbearable. Kyungsoo closes his eyes shut to steel his courage.

“Because we agreed we would if feelings got involved,” he says matter-of-factly. “And I--” Kyungsoo opens his eyes, looks at Jongdae, perfect Jongdae with his sunny smile and easy grins, his lame jokes and love of rom-coms, the way he takes pictures of all the food he eats and the way he kisses Kyungsoo, consoles him, listens to him without any judgement or preconceived notions.  He can’t say it, it makes him feel too vulnerable. “--I know you… have… feelings… for me…”

Jongdae hesitates, then laughs dryly, once, devoid of any humour.

“Right,” he says, nodding his head. “I guess you decided that for me… While we’re on the case then, I’m pretty sure you have feelings for me too but sure, okay,” his tone is acidic and sardonic and it makes Kyungsoo flinch. “Pin the blame on me.”

“Jongdae, stop,” Kyungsoo tries, reaching out but Jongdae pulls back. “What I feel doesn’t matter--”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter!?” Jongdae laughs in disbelief.

Kyungsoo’s fists clench. “It doesn’t matter who’s feeling what what matters it that this isn’t-- wasn’t a relationship so we should stop before we get more hurt--”

“Right… yeah…” Jongdae agrees sarcastically. “Any more hurt than this? Right now?” He falls back onto Baekhyun’s bed with a short huff, staring at the wall with glassy eyes. The mattress springs beneath his weight. “I don’t get it,” Jongdae admits quietly, turning to face Kyungsoo, who has to look away. “Why are you running away from this? I figured you’d take time to realise but I didn’t expect--” he cuts off suddenly, falling silent.  

Kyungsoo doesn’t have an answer, throat constricting around the words he wishes he could say. How do you even explain it, really? That Kyungsoo fears love more than anything else in the world. He’s seen the way it hurts people, romantic or not, the way it changes things, the way he himself can become obsessive, crazed, the way his mother cried for months on end when his father left, the way Baekhyun’s smile fractured after Junmyeon. People come in and people leave again and with them take a part of you --Kyungsoo can prevent that if he never opens his door to begin with. This is just a way of preemptively doing that, closing Jongdae out of his heart.

“I know this isn’t what we agreed on… yeah…” Jongdae continues, voice somewhat steadier. “But it’s-- people-- things-- relationships change Kyungsoo and you’re not… you’re not what I expected.” He stands up then, smiling almost brokenly at him, desperate. “I don’t want to stop this it’s… it’s good.”

Jongdae’s shoulders are raised, defensive.

“Now, sure,” Kyungsoo replies, avoiding eye contact. “But… what happens later?” He searches Jongdae’s face, trying to find an answer. “What happens when I’m out of state and you’re stuck here--”

Jongdae half-chokes. “‘ Stuck ’--”

“--And we have a stupid label over our heads and commitment and judgement and it’s just-- it’s not going to work, Jongdae. We shouldn’t invest our time and effort into a relationship that started off as a summer fling.”

It’s the last few words that seem to hit hardest as Jongdae visibly winces, staring at Kyungsoo with a dark, opaque gaze.

“Jesus Christ…” he chuckles quietly, but it’s a grating sound that makes Kyungsoo’s insides bleed. “I guess I should’ve known you’d break my heart eventually, huh?” Jongdae’s smile is crooked and pathetic, tired.

“I--” Kyungsoo starts.

Jongdae just shakes his head. “Whatever Kyungsoo, have fun being afraid of your feelings because you’re too much of a coward to do otherwise.” Kyungsoo turns his head to the side at that, stung. It’s funny, how easy Jongdae has been to get along with, how well they’ve merged together thus far, and yet he doesn’t seem to understand this. Doesn’t he get it? Kyungsoo is trying to stop them from getting hurt, trying to stop Jongdae from getting hurt because Kyungsoo would be a shitty boyfriend and it would end in heartbreak. Why doesn’t he get that?” “I’m just gonna go home.”

“Jongdae, wait--” Kyungsoo tries desperately, grabbing onto Jongdae’s wrist and curling around it. “It doesn’t have to be like this we can… we can still be friends--” That was the plan, after all, it was meant to end smoothly, cleanly, he didn’t expect Jongdae to get so hurt by it, didn’t expect himself to be this hurt. Maybe he was deeper into this shit than he first even realised.

“Friends,” Jongdae nods slowly. “Right. Yeah. Just, give me some time, maybe?” The smile he gives Kyungsoo is sharp, almost cruel, entirely un-Jongdae. “I’m kinda getting over someone right now.”

He tugs his hand back, walking out the door and shutting it gently behind him. Kyungsoo doesn’t follow him out.

Kyungsoo is woken from his nap by somebody barging into his room and opening the curtains.

“You know what sucks?” Baekhyun asks loudly, as Kyungsoo groans and rolls over, holding the pillow against his head to block out the light. He feels so tired all the time, it’s like no amount of sleep is ever enough. “Having like, awesome threesome sex and a best friend who’s too MIA to brag about it to.”

Kyungsoo has been like this for a few days now, retreating into his room to binge-watch anime and play Overwatch all day and night. It’s autonomous and unfulfilling and Kyungsoo’s whole room smells like sweat, but it’s the only thing that keeps his mind distracted from how absolutely shitty he feels.

“If you want to brag about it then brag,” Kyungsoo grunts, tugging the sheet up higher over his body, closing his eyes. “I’m all ears.”

“No, you’re all depression,” Baekhyun scoffs. “You’re acting like you got dumped.”

“I did get dumped,” Kyungsoo grumbles, and at Baekhyun’s raised eyebrows, adds, “... Kind of…” Kyungsoo frowns. “I guess I did the dumping.”

Baekhyun snorts. “Hehe, dumping,” he says childishly, and at Kyungsoo’s glare, amends it to, “I wasn’t aware you and Jongdae were in a relationship.”

“We weren’t,” Kyungsoo says dryly, but they were… something, something close enough to it that made him do all of this to begin with. It’s kind of funny, really, because he broke it off to prevent himself from getting more hurt in the future, and yet his mind can’t seem to erase the image of Jongdae’s insincere smile, burned into its retinas. He sighs in frustration. “If you’re here to say ‘I told you so’ you can just leave.”

It’s one of the reasons Kyungsoo has locked himself away a little, cut off. He doesn’t need concern or questions or knowing prods, he just needs time to pass so he can move forward to when he doesn’t care about Jongdae and everything stops hurting.

“I’m not here to gloat,” Baekhyun says softly, gently sitting on the edge of Kyungsoo’s bed. “I know how it feels, okay?” Kyungsoo relents at that, hackles dropping and spikes retracting. “And it sucks but… Kyungsoo, if it’s affecting you so much…” Baekhyun trails off hesitantly. “Why end it to begin with?”

“Because...” Kyungsoo starts, because he didn’t realise he was so invested, because he didn’t think not being able to text Jongdae would affect him so much, didn’t realise he couldn’t cook without thinking about Jongdae hanging off his shoulder, can’t see the ocean without wondering if Jongdae has managed to find time to surf, yet, can’t even look at food in front of him without thinking about whether it’s photogenic or not. “... Because it’s better this way, isn’t it? End it before he gets a chance to--” Kyungsoo cuts off, although the end of his sentence hangs in the air.

Hurt me.

Baekhyun sighs dramatically. “See, Kyungsoo,” he starts. “You told yourself Jongdae was going to hurt you so that you had a back up when you inevitably hurt yourself but guess what? Jongdae was never the one playing games in your relationship, Soo,” Baekhyun smiles pityingly. “You were, and you’ve always done this. Always played the heartbreaker so you can break everybody else’s to protect your own.”

The words sting with truth Kyungsoo doesn’t really want to hear, and he wonders if Baekhyun is right. If Kyungsoo painted the image of Jongdae as some stupid, playful fuckboy in his mind to tell himself that they couldn’t have something serious, that they could never be together, that Jongdae was safe to indulge in for a moment, because he was nothing. But then he became… something, to Kyungsoo, something familiar and comfortable and so, so much more than what he was on the outside, and Kyungsoo…

“Heartbreak is a human construct,” he jokes quietly, smiling to himself.

Baekhyun’s stare is flat and unwavering. “Is it?”

And Kyungsoo doesn’t know the answer to that, because he’s not sure if the hole in his chest can be described as broken so much as it is just… aching… gaping. Self-awareness helps nothing, because Kyungsoo gets it, he pushes people away to protect himself and it’s cliche and fuck, doesn’t everybody do it, in their own way to some degree? Caging themselves in to keep other people out? Baekhyun does it by not sharing his problems, never showing weakness, Soojung does it with an icy, uncaring exterior. Kyungsoo’s mother does it by smiling and saying everything is fine, Jongdae did it in the same kind of way.

At Kyungsoo’s silence, Baekhyun says, “You can’t exist forever in your little shell, Kyungsoo, being afraid of any possibility. That’s no way to live.” Kyungsoo grits his teeth. “Yeah, sure, okay, you and Jongdae could break up in the future or your relationship could deteriorate and that’ll hurt too but you what else hurts?” Kyungsoo looks up. “Never trying to begin with. Loneliness. Isolation.” Baekhyun laughs. “The list goes on.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow together. “What’re you saying?”

Baekhyun exhales then, long-suffering. “You know I saw Junmyeon the summer after we ended things, right?” He starts, the non sequitur throwing Kyungsoo off-guard. At his bewildered look, Baekhyun just shrugs. He’s never mentioned this before. “We bumped into each other in town while he was visiting and we just exchanged smalltalk and I realised… I was over him. I’d had a whole year to get over him and I had.”

Okay, now Kyungsoo is really confused. “So what? You’re telling me I’ll get over Jongdae in a year?”

Baekhyun chuckles in a high pitch, unbelieving. “No no no, I’m telling you Jongdae will get over you.” Kyungsoo blinks. “He’ll get over you, and you’ll probably get over him, and all this pain will stop, but guess what? While you’re moping in the dreary weather and grey skies of the east coast Jongdae is going to get over you and have a really awesome threesome and you’re going to be wondering about what never was.”

Kyungsoo groans, a mix between exasperation and laughter. “I can’t believe you keep hinting at the threesome and won’t tell me what actually happened.”

“Nuh-uh,” Baekhyun shakes his head firmly. “You’re the main character here, not me. You need to sort out your own shit before the rest of us can even dream of getting their own storyline.”

Kyungsoo sighs, relaxing. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Uhhhhh yeah ,” Baekhyun replies, with an unspoken duh attached. “Kyungsoo I’m pretty sure your state of misery and regret is saying that to you right now.”

Kyungsoo regards his shirtless, sweaty body with a noncommittal grunt.

“Find a way to make things right,” Baekhyun suggests, although it sounds more like an order. “And stop… living your life pushing everybody away, Kyungsoo. Some of us stick around because we’re persistent like that--” Kyungsoo laughs reluctantly. “--but sometimes you just have to suck it up and realise life really is about effort and risks and things nobody wants to do but does anyway. Loneliness keeps you safe, yeah, but… it kinda sucks, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo nods solemnly, although he knows Baekhyun doesn’t really need confirmation on the matter.

“And put on a shirt, would you?” Baekhyun tacks on hastily. “Your nipples freak me out.”

He throws the first thing he grabs off the ground at Kyungsoo, and it’s Jongdae’s hoodie, the one he’s forgotten to return after all these months, soft and over-worn but still smelling like him, only just. Kyungsoo clenches the fabric between his fingers, laughing softly, and can’t believe he’s actually coming around to the fact that Baekhyun is right. Kyungsoo is miserable, and he hates the fact, and maybe the only way to fix this is for him to fucking do something about it. His grip tightens around the hoodie.

(Kyungsoo still throws a pillow at Baekhyun’s face. Just for good measure.)

Kyungsoo doesn’t try to text Jongdae, mostly because he’s pretty sure it would go ignored.

Except no, it probably wouldn’t --Kyungsoo shakes away the thoughts-- it’s just something he tells himself to prevent himself from actually doing it, because Kyungsoo is fucking terrified. Terrified of seeing Jongdae, terrified of talking to him, terrified of doing what Baekhyun suggest he do and what… pursue a relationship he doesn’t want?

Because Kyungsoo really doesn’t --want a relationship, that is. He doesn’t want the obligation to be there for someone or the expectations to or the labels or the judgement or any part of it, doesn’t want the effort or the hurt or the worry and the possessiveness. He doesn’t want any of the things he thinks of when he considers a relationship, but he does want Jongdae, his laughter, his smiles, his kisses, his company, wants back the time they spent together and the memories they’ve shared, the simple, domestic intimacy of walking dogs together or sharing a home cooked meal or simply lounging in bed half-naked, entangled, too hot to really cuddle but too comfortable to care. Jongdae doesn’t set off fireworks in Kyungsoo’s blood or erase all his commitment-phobia, but he is comfortable, and soft, and there’s something to be said, really, in the way he’d handled the impression of all of Kyungsoo’s spikes against his skin like they were nothing, just let them impale him all the same.

It doesn’t make Kyungsoo any less terrified, but ending things with Jongdae so abruptly had only stood to highlight how much of Kyungsoo’s lazy summer days had been spent with Jongdae by his side, how much he’d come to appreciate that. He’s not in love with Jongdae, not really, but he genuinely, wholeheartedly could be, at one point in time, in the future, and that’s so fucking scary Kyungsoo’s hands start to shake at the thought.

He shoves them into his pocket stubbornly to hide the fact, his mother arching an eyebrow next to him but not saying a word as the overture continues. His heart is pounding just at the thought of seeing Jongdae again for the first time in weeks, even if it is from the nosebleeds --which aren’t really nosebleeds, because the theatre is fucking tiny-- but maybe seeing him again will help the confused state of Kyungsoo’s mind.

It doesn’t. Jongdae is in the show from the very opening number, most of the time until the end, with marker-drawn whiskers, a comically oversized red-and-white hat and, as promised, a tail that spins with every dance move. His acting is okay, his dancing pretty subpar, but his voice is… beautiful, gorgeous, jaw-dropping. Kyungsoo wonders how he’d never known, how Jongdae had never told him. Wonders if he would have found out, eventually, if he hadn’t given up so early.

Seeing Jongdae is half awe-inspiring half soul-crushing, because Kyungsoo misses him so much it’s almost worse to see him like this, completely out of reach. He claps at the end of every number, though, joins in on the rhythm during bows, and tries not to linger too much on the way Jongdae had caught his eye during his final bow, figuring Jongdae probably can’t see him through the dark anyway, right?

As they shuffle out of the foyer, Kyungsoo’s mom asks, “Don’t you want to wait and say hello to Jongdae?”

“No,” Kyungsoo answers quickly, walking out. “Not really.”

His mother gives a concerned look, but follows, shuffling behind. Her mouth twists, once, and she says, “Something happened between you two, didn’t it?”

Kyungsoo freezes at that, shocked.

“You don’t cook as much when he’s not around,” his mom continues, laughing to herself. “I’ve been making my own lunches instead of eating your leftovers. It’s sad.” She peeks at him curiously. “Don’t look so shocked, I am your mother, Kyungsoo. I notice things even if you try to hide them.”

“We…” Kyungsoo tries, grimacing at how to word this. “Had a fight, kind of. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

His mother’s expression softens, mouth curved.

“I know you were sleeping with him.”

Kyungsoo fucking trips , barely catching himself in time. “Mom.”

“What? I saw the lube and stained sheets.”

“ Mom. ”

“Oh come on Kyungsoo, you’re a twenty-one year old man. Did you think I thought you were a child?” He gives her a pointed look, which she just waves aside because yes, yes he does. Often. But apparently she doesn’t when it comes to this? She bites her lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Kyungsoo grumbles, his mother sighing.

She pulls Kyungsoo closer against her, so much so that he’s practically smushed into her chest even while they walk like some weird, efficient side-hug. “Did he break your heart?”

Kyungsoo inhales slowly. “No…” he admits, hesitant. “...I believe I’m the one who fucked up.”

His mother looks at Kyungsoo strangely, and he wonders if it had been obvious to everyone, then, how deep Kyungsoo had fallen for this stupid sun-kissed boy, and how deep his regret runs, too.

“Jongdae was a good thing for you, Kyungsoo,” she muses. “Made you smile more. Not a lot of good things happen in this world… you shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Kyungsoo swallows slowly, thickly, his last hesitation on the entire matter bubbling up.

“Was dad a good thing?” He asks quietly, tentative, searching his mother’s face for an answer. She just smiles then, softening.

“Of course,” she says. “He gave me you and Seungsoo, didn’t he? Gave me a lot of happiness…” she hums shortly. “I don’t regret it, Kyungsoo.” She states, surprising Kyungsoo. “The only thing I regret is how independent it made you--”

She pinches Kyungsoo’s cheeks, which he laughs and swats away, complaining without any bite. He supposes in a way, his dad leaving did force Kyungsoo to grow up a bit too fast, to shoulder his own burdens while his mother dealt with hers, and in a way, he regrets that now. How that’s shaped his relationships with her, shaped his relationships with everybody else, how it bleeds into mind and body without him even realising.

“I don’t know how to make him forgive me,” Kyungsoo says softly, because that’s at the heart of it all, isn’t it? Watching Jongdae on stage tonight only reminded Kyungsoo of just how brightly Jongdae shines, and how completely unworthy Kyungsoo is of basking in that light.

Good thing he’s always been selfish regardless.

“Didn’t I teach you anything?” His mother says exasperatedly, angling Kyungsoo’s chin so that it faces her as they stop on the sidewalk, smiling at him reassuringly. “Just start with saying sorry.”

Kyungsoo is more determined by the show he’d bought tickets for in the middle of the week rolls around, although no less confused about how to act on it. Saying sorry is all well and good but, he reasons with himself, he doesn’t want to do it in the middle of the week and throw Jongdae off his performance or… something.

Except that’s just an excuse, really, and Kyungsoo hates the fact that ending… whatever he and Jongdae had, means Kyungsoo gets diagnosed with self-awareness. It’s crazy how one person pointing out your habits makes them all too noticeable, because Kyungsoo catches himself all the fucking time realising how hard he tries to isolate himself, stay protected. It sucks, because it’s comfortable and familiar and it’s worked for Kyungsoo for so long, but it has to change. It needs to. Kyungsoo can’t just isolate himself forever and pretend like loneliness is a side-effect of who he is. The only person he has to blame is himself.

And really, more than any of that, he just doesn’t want to be Junmyeon. The man wears argyle sucks and chews with his mouth open. Kyungsoo refuses to become somebody who runs away at every opportunity while every other person in his life gets to have crazy awesome threesomes and double boyfriends.

At intermission Kyungsoo walks out for a breath of fresh air, and makes awkward eye contact with Minseok, who’s leaning against the wall, smoking. He expects Minseok to ignore him or brush him off or glare, but instead he just gets a small smile and a wave, which Kyungsoo returns equally as gently, and a hesitant little encouraging thumbs up.

Somehow, that’s better than anything else Kyungsoo has received all week.

The middle show definitely had a lot of improvements upon opening night’s, although less energy, so Kyungsoo is oddly excited to see how closing will go. For a myriad of reasons. More than just Jongdae’s production of Seussical will be ending tonight.

“Can you stop inhaling the popcorn for three fucking seconds?” Soojung demands of Baekhyun over Kyungsoo’s head, reaching for the bucket. “The show hasn’t even started yet.”

“Bite me, Jung.” Baekhyun replies maturely as he pulls it out of her reach, and they start squabbling, squishing Kyungsoo in between them who is forced to speak up.

“Guys stop,” he shushes insistently, adjusting the bouquet at his feet so it won’t get damaged. “It’s about to start.”

Baekhyun just sticks out his tongue at Soojung, who sneers, and Kyungsoo wonders at what stage his friends became preschoolers.

As Jongdae makes his entrance on stage after a few lines from Jojo, picking up his stupid hat and chucking it on over his cat-ears, Baekhyun whispers, “Ooo, yiff me daddy.” Which promptly makes Kyungsoo want to die.

“No furry jokes,” he harshly whispers, wrenching the popcorn bucket out of Baekhyun’s hands to give it to Soojung instead, who preens at Baekhyun’s pout.

Jongdae is definitely the best on this night, no longer running on nerves but with a confidence and casualty to the character of Cat-in-the-Hat that he hadn’t had at the beginning. Even his dancing has seemed to improve, although his voice is amazing as always, and it fills Kyungsoo with a sense of pride and happiness. He’s really, genuinely happy for Jongdae, and it’s a weird realisation to have in a tiny-ass theatre at nine p.m, that he’s so grateful to have met somebody so special to him, but it only helps to harden Kyungsoo’s shaky resolve, which is exactly what he needs.

The show ends with Soojung loudly whistling with her fingers in her mouth, and Baekhyun slaps Kyungsoo on the shoulder as he says, “Go get ‘em tiger.” Kyungsoo shuffling awkwardly with the flower bouquet in his hands as he heads towards the back door to wait for Jongdae to come out.

It takes a long fucking time. The cast and crew are doing load-out since it’s their last night, which means moving all the set and costumes out and ready to be taken away. He waits and waits, and yet not once does he ever spot Jongdae.

Eventually, he’s watched all the members of the cast file out apart from Jongdae, and Kyungsoo can’t wait any longer. Deeming the coast clear, he sneaks in backstage.

“Woah there,” a voice stops him in his tracks where Kyungsoo freezes, turning on his heel guiltily. Yixing is smiling at him icily with a headset on. “I don’t think you’re meant to be back here.”

“I--” Kyungsoo stammers, feeling nervous. This would be so much easier if Yixing’s gaze wasn’t so fucking piercing. “I just--” he holds up the flowers uselessly. “Jongdae.”

“Don’t ruin the post-show high for him,” Yixing warns slowly, and Kyungsoo adamantly shakes his head.

“I don’t want to,” he admits, swallowing as he meets Yixing’s eyes. “I’m here to congratulate him.” He pauses, nervous. “... And apologise.”

Yixing scrutinises Kyungsoo’s face, relenting. “He’s on the stage sweeping,” he says, and Kyungsoo thanks him gratefully before rushing through the halls to… find out how to get to the stage, exactly.

He finds Jongdae exactly where Yixing said he would be, carefully sweeping the stage. He’s so close and so far all at once, shining under the stage lights like that, velvet curtain shut, and suddenly all the fear, all the nervousness, all the worry comes rushing back, and Kyungsoo wants to turn on his heel and run.

But that’s not what he’s here to do, and he’s sick of waiting, sick of being curled up in his shell and waiting for somebody to come inside. Kyungsoo is here to fucking fix something in his stupid, miserable life, and Lord so help him he will do it!

Gripping the flowers tightly, Kyungsoo steps forward, and the crinkle of cellophane alerts Jongdae to his presence, who turns to him lazily.

He meets Kyungsoo’s eyes, and something heavy and unspoken passes between them, something bruised and aching reopening like a scab torn clean off.

Jongdae turns away first. “You’re not here to make a furry joke, are you?” He asks dryly, continuing to sweep. He rubs at the whiskers on his cheek, still drawn in stubbornly with a marker. He’s out of costume, but his mic is still in place, taped to his skin. “I’m really sick of hearing them.”

“No,” Kyungsoo answers. “I’m not.” He swallows and steps forward, thrusting out the flowers. “You were amazing, you know. You improved a lot... You’re really talented, all that hard work paid off.”

“Oh what, are those for me?” Jongdae asks bitterly, ignoring the compliment, although he makes no move to take the flowers. Kyungsoo doesn’t budge, stubborn, and Jongdae sighs. “Why are you here, Kyungsoo.” It’s not a question. Jongdae runs a hand through his hair, stiff with hairspray so much so that it doesn’t budge. “If you want us to be friends I’m going to need more time than--”

“I don’t want us to be friends,” Kyungsoo cuts Jongdae off, causing him to pause, faltering.

“O… kay…” Jongdae relents slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Kyungsoo inhales deeply, trying to bring to his mind all the words he’s imagined saying in this situation, all the things stuck in his chest and behind his tongue in all the moments he wished he could have had the guts to say them, all the things he’d been too afraid to think of.

“I’m an idiot,” Kyungsoo blurts, and Jongdae’s blatantly amused smile is oddly encouraging. “I’m an idiot, and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m. I’m really stupid. Have I mentioned that?”

Jongdae shrugs, leaning on the broom handle with a tipped head. “Once or twice.”

“I’m also scared of a lot of things,” Kyungsoo continues. “I’m scared of spiders, and birds that fly too close, and people leaving me, and rejection, and being in pain.” He inhales shakily, trying to prove how he’s never said these things aloud, how much they mean. Jongdae straightens out, watching Kyungsoo seriously. “I’m afraid of people walking out on me because I’m not good enough for them, and I’m afraid of anyone getting close enough to see the real me. The me I don’t even know about.” He steps forward. “I’m scared of relationships, and love, and you. All because of that. But more than that I--” Kyungsoo chokes a little, nervous. “--I’m scared of losing you.”

He laughs, gaze dropping to the floor at his own ridiculousness. “So yeah, I was a coward, and I backed out of whatever good thing we had because I like you so much it chews me up inside and I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever, so sorry.” He meets Jongdae’s unreadable gaze then, the words unable to stop in a way Kyungsoo has never felt before, like a weight is being pulled off his chest. “I like you Jongdae, so, so much. I like spending time with you, and your laugh and your smile and your kisses and your insistent Instagram habits.” Jongdae’s lips twitch. “And I really don’t want us to be friends-with-benefits, or friends, or acquaintances or silent enemies or whatever we have been for the past week and a half--” Jongdae laughs through his nose reluctantly at that, soothing Kyungoo’s nerves. “--So I want to be 100% clear about this, exactly on the same page.” He inhales. “Be my fucking boyfriend, Jongdae Kim.”

Jongdae looks at Kyungsoo, and then he laughs .

Oh how Kyungsoo has missed that sound.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Jongdae says, wheezing. “You... broke my heart, you know,” he adds solemnly, serious.

“I know,” Kyungsoo admits. “I… kind of broke my own in the process. But that was necessary.” It may have broken, but then it got pieced back together in a better state. Kyungsoo is sure of it.

Jongdae hums. “Yixing did warn me about people like you,” he mockingly sighs, tossing the broom handle from palm to palm. “I’m not going to make it easy, you realise, you owe me so much frozen yoghurt, like… infinite yoghurt.” Kyungsoo smiles, as Jongdae gestures grandly to indicate just how much yoghurt. “And lots of kisses, and sexual favours, and you’re definitely going to need to buy more flowers at some stage.” Kyungsoo steps closer. “You better be a good little whipped boyfriend or I’ll say I told you so.”

Kyungsoo’s cheeks hurt. “Somehow,” he says softly. “I’m okay with that.”

Jongdae stubbornly pries the bouquet from Kyungsoo’s grip. “In future,” he says, even as Kyungsoo just inches a little closer. “I hate roses. They smell too much.”

“Noted,” Kyungsoo replies, licking his lips. “How about I start on the kisses part of the contract then?”

“Right now?” Jongdae asks mockingly, but doesn’t make any move to pull back as Kyungsoo pushes forward, wrapping a hand around Jongdae’s neck to bring him in closer, prying his lips open and licking into his mouth greedily, giving himself the infinite indulgence he’d deprived himself of before. The flowers fall to the floor, forgotten, as Jongdae just pulls Kyungsoo closer by the front of his shirt, and they only break apart as the red velvet curtain is pulled up and a spotlight is shined directly on them.

“WOOOOOO,” Baekhyun shouts from the audience with his hands cupped around his mouth, Soojung laughing beside him. “BRAVO!” He claps obnoxiously, as Kyungsoo just closes his eyes in split-second regret as Jongdae presses his forehead together.

“... My mic was on the entire time, wasn’t it.” Jongdae says.

“YOU KNOW IT!” Baekhyun shouts again, still cheering. The opened curtain now reveals Yixing side of stage behind Jongdae, controlling the ropes, throwing them both a thumbs up.

“We both need new friends,” Kyungsoo says plainly.

“Yep.” Jongdae agrees. “But that can wait for now,” he continues, and insistently kisses Kyungsoo again, entirely uncaring about where they are and who is watching, and truth be told? Kyungsoo doesn’t care either. He’s spent too much of his life living in fear of everything, really, the future and what’s to come, judgement, rejection, all of it. He’s done with that.

All Kyungsoo cares about right now, right here, is Jongdae, warm and real and solid, as constant as the sun. And it’s all that matters, too.