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They met in their junior year of college.
That’s what always happened, Baekhyun knew: as classes pared down, students started taking more major-specific classes. You really got to know everyone in your major. You could commiserate about internships, about papers, about it all.
That’s how he met Jongin. Early ed.
Practicum was fun, if exhausting.
That exhaustion led to Baekhyun lying face first on his books, spread across his desk before Positive Management Strategies in Special Education. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and when he looked up, he thought he must have died, because an angel was standing over him.
“Hi,” Baekhyun said stupidly.
“You, uh, you got some—” and the angel gestured to Baekhyun’s face. “Right there.”
Baekhyun’s brain worked slowly, and he reached up to his face, finding wetness at the corners of his mouth. “Oh my god.” He rubbed the back of his hand along his lips. “Ignore me. Never speak to me. I’m the worst. I’m gross.”
“You’re not gross,” the guy said. “But, uh, I bought you coffee.”
“Oh,” Baekhyun said. “Thank you. Why?”
“You looked tired,” he said. “I’m, uh, I’m Jongin. I usually sit in the back.”
“Oh,” Baekhyun said again. “Nice to meet you. I’m Baekhyun.”
“I know,” Jongin said, and he pushed the coffee onto Baekhyun’s desk, leaving Baekhyun to turn and watch him walk back to his desk, whipping back to face front when Jongin reached his destination.
He didn’t want to be caught staring.
∞
They fell in love. Of course they did. It was something like destiny, but more mundane, something simpler. There just isn’t any version of Baekhyun’s story where they didn’t end up together.
Jongin was sweet. Thoughtful. Each Tuesday and Thursday morning, Baekhyun would enter the classroom, and he would always find Jongin sitting in the back of the room, smiling at him. And there, on his desk, rested a tall coffee and some kind of pastry. Sometimes it was a cherry danish, or cheese. Sometimes it was pain au chocolat, sometimes a glazed donut, sometimes a blueberry muffin with a streusel topping.
It was hard not to bond with someone when they plied you with carbs and caffeine. And so they fell into an easy, if tenuous, friendship.
Baekhyun stopped Jongin one morning after class let out, and Jongin looked at him with wide eyes.
“What?”
“You don’t—you don’t have to do this,” Baekhyun said. “The...coffee and everything.”
Jongin tilted his head to the side, blatant in his confusion. Baekhyun liked that about him, always spelling it out for him so there was no misunderstanding. “What do you mean?” He grabbed Baekhyun in a hug. “I know I don’t have to.”
“Then,” Baekhyun started, putting his face into the fabric of Jongin’s jacket, “then why do you do it?”
Jongin smiled as he pulled Baekhyun back by the shoulders.
“Because I like the look on your face,” he said.
Baekhyun started to enjoy the mornings, started looking forward to Positive Management more than any other of his classes.
Jongin moved, just a quarter through the semester, and he took the seat next to Baekhyun.
Jongin was smart, of course he was. Always contributed to discussions, always challenged Baekhyun’s ideas. He gave a fuck about Baekhyun for some odd reason: always asked about his family, always checked to see if Baekhyun had plans for lunch and dinner. Always invited Baekhyun to study in the library. Always made sure Baekhyun knew he was there.
Baekhyun liked that most of all. He could take or leave breakfast. What he loved, what he fell in love with, was Jongin’s heart.
∞
He and Jongin dated while in school for a year and a half. It was hard, sometimes. Baekhyun didn’t have a car, so he caught the bus back and forth from Jongin’s apartment. They made it work.
“Did you eat?” Jongin asked, Baekhyun in his arms.
“No,” Baekhyun whined. “I didn’t have time.”
“I keep telling you,” he said, squeezing Baekhyun tight. “You gotta eat before night classes. You get all sleepy and useless if you don’t.”
“I know,” Baekhyun sighed.
Jongin hummed, and they held each other in Jongin’s little kitchen. Baekhyun let himself melt into the embrace, let his body go limp, let Jongin hold him up.
“Is your roommate home?” Baekhyun asked.
“Yeah, he’s in his room,” Jongin said with a smile, pressing a kiss to Baekhyun’s cheek. “So no funny business. Go sit.”
“Kay,” Baekhyun said sleepily.
Baekhyun sat, head pillowed against his arms as he watched Jongin move through the kitchen. He grabbed a can of beer, a jar from the fridge, one from the cabinet. He grabbed two knives from the drawer, and he spread peanut butter along one slice of bread, strawberry jelly along the other. He pressed them together, set the sandwich on a small plate.
“No crust,” Baekhyun pleaded.
“Like I was born yesterday,” Jongin said, rolling his eyes.
He sliced the crusts off, popping them into his mouth before he cut the sandwich into four triangles. He padded over with a grin, and he placed the sandwich and the beer down in front of Baekhyun. Sitting across from him. Chin in his hands.
“You’re an angel,” Baekhyun said. “What would I do without you?”
He popped the tab on his beer, let it hiss through the room.
“I dunno,” Jongin said. “What would I do without you?”
Baekhyun started to devour the sandwich, crushing two triangles within thirty seconds, so his mouth was still full when he spoke. “Sh’d up.”
“What was that?”
Baekhyun took a large sip of his beer, swallowing thickly. “I said shut up.”
“So mean to me,” Jongin said. “After I made you dinner.”
“I know,” Baekhyun said, and he ran his foot along Jongin’s ankle under the table. “However will I apologize to you?”
Jongin threw his head back and laughed. “Sehun is home, so keep it in your pants.” He rubbed his foot along Baekhyun’s. “He hates when we’re loud.”
“Then tell him to vacate the premises,” Baekhyun said. “I wanna suck your dick.”
∞
When they graduate, it seems a given that they move in together.
“I don’t like it,” Jongin says, staring up at the high, perfect ceilings.
“Why?” Baekhyun says. “It’s perfect. In our price range, nice neighborhood. I mean, we’re right down the street from a Trader Joe’s. What is better than this?”
Jongin turns and frowns. “It’s so far from your school.” He takes Baekhyun in his arms. “Your commute is gonna be so shitty, babe.”
“Oh my god,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes before pressing his face into Jongin’s chest. “Let me decide if the commute is shitty.”
“No,” Jongin says. “You’re too placating. You’re too nice.”
“I’m exactly as nice as I ought to be.”
“Babe,” Jongin whines.
“We’ll give it a try,” Baekhyun says, and he winds his arms around Jongin’s neck, pulls him an inch lower so he can kiss him softly. “It’s only a year. And if I hate it, I’ll tell you, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I fuckin’ promise.”
Jongin kisses him lushly, so much tongue. Baekhyun stands on this tiptoes, pushes into it, and he’s about to start losing himself to it, about to start—
“How are we making out in her—oh my god,” the realtor says, covering her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“No, we, uh, got a little carried away” Jongin says, hands chaste on Baekhyun’s waist once more. “I think we’re going with this one.”
∞
“This is so stupid,” Baekhyun says with a smile.
“If it’s good enough for 500 Days of Summer, it’s good enough for us,” Jongin says, and he reaches out a hand, brushes the hair away from Baekhyun’s face. “You’re so pretty.”
“Shut up,” Baekhyun says, pleased, and he moves a little closer. “We don’t need a bed.” And he moves an inch closer, kisses Jongin on the nose. “Do we?”
“No,” Jongin says. “But this one is comfortable, isn’t it?”
“Don’t give me a line,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t want to hear a line while I’m lying on an IKEA bed.”
“I think I’m so comfortable,” Jongin says, hand against Baekhyun’s neck, “because you’re here with me.”
“I’m going to throw up all over this very nice bed,” Baekhyun says. “And it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll take responsibility,” Jongin says, and he kisses Baekhyun softly, quickly. “We should get moving.”
“I can’t believe neither of us has a colander,” Baekhyun grouses. “We are not adults.”
“Colanders are the mark of an adult?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then let’s go get that badge of adulthood,” Jongin says. He sits up, drags Baekhyun up with him. “Pretty cool that you can get one for 4.95.” He holds Baekhyun’s hand in his as they walk, moving from the showroom to the marketplace. “I had no idea adulthood was so reasonable.”
“You learn something new every day.”
∞
He knew it was a bad idea to give him power tools, but truthfully, nothing could have prepared him for Jongin waking him up the morning after their first night in the new apartment. Jongin stands in the doorway, drill in hand. Finger on the trigger. Grinning madly at him.
“Put the gun down,” Baekhyun says sleepily.
“Time to work,” Jongin says. “TV time.”
Baekhyun buries his head under the covers. “Can’t we just use command strips?”
Jongin throws his head back, laughs. “I would love to see the command strip big enough for your mammoth television.” He gently nudges Baekhyun’s toe, sticking out from under the covers with the drill tip. “We’ll just patch the holes when we move.”
“This is turning into a thing,” Baekhyun says, quickly pulling back on his leg, dragging his toes back underneath the covers.
“Everything’s a thing,” Jongin says. “Come on. Up.”
“No,” Baekhyun whines.
“I got coffee,” Jongin says. “And a bagel sandwich. Bacon, egg, and pepper jack.”
Baekhyun shoots out of bed, throws on a pair of socks. “Point me at the wall, I’m gonna drill so good.”
“That’s my boy,” Jongin says proudly.
∞
“We need, like, life,” Baekhyun says happily, looking around the nursery. “We need color. And sound!”
“You are not gonna find sound from plants, babe,” Jongin says.
He looks at the ficus, fingers touching the soil. “It’s a figure of speech.” He picks up the little ficus, puts it in their horribly orange cart.
“It’s not,” Jongin says, and he adds a pot of purple petunias to the cart. “But I will let it slide on one condition.”
Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “What condition is that?” Jongin wiggles his eyebrows, and Baekhyun slaps him on the shoulder. “Oh my god. I’m gonna kill you.”
“Before or after?” Jongin asks, nudging his shoulder into Baekhyun’s as they move through the greenery.
“After, obviously,” Baekhyun says, and he hip-checks Jongin hard enough that he stumbles away with a laugh.
“So mean,” Jongin smiles. “You’ll pay.”
“Looking forward to it,” Baekhyun says, and he stops for a moment, takes Jongin’s face in his hands. Kisses him firmly. Then, he sees it. “Oh my god. It’s perfect.”
Baekhyun rushes past Jongin, stands next to the plant. It is...perfect.
“It’s a palm. And it’s huge.” Jongin says.
“Exactly! Life! Color! Sound!” Baekhyun says.
Jongin rolls his eyes, but he walks over, hoists the plant up and into the cart anyway.
∞
“Staples,” Baekhyun says. “Write that down.” He shoves his mouth full of cereal, nodding at Jongin.
“Staples,” Jongin says, one hand around his mug of coffee, another holding his pen. “You almost got everything you need?”
“Almost,” Baekhyun says. “I’m like, nervous as fuck.”
“Please,” Jongin says, rolling his eyes. “Second graders are gonna be fun.”
Baekhyun worries over his lip, spoon full of Cheerios in the air.
“Stop,” Jongin continues. “You’re the best I know.”
“You know you,” Baekhyun says. “So jot that down.”
Jongin stands up, leans over the table. He kisses Baekhyun, and it is just as arresting as it always is, almost too much, almost too good to be true.
“That shuts you up so well,” Jongin smiles, hands still flat on the table.
“I hate you,” Baekhyun says.
“You love me,” Jongin says.
“Yes,” Baekhyun says, and he pushes up, fingers linking with Jongin’s on the tabletop as he kisses him again. “I do.”
∞
They don’t have money for a full blown vacation, but Jongin’s got a car, so they go to the shore for day trips every weekend in August. The sun is warm on their skin, and they bathe in the sunlight, Jongin always dutifully re-applying sunscreen to Baekhyun’s back after they get out of the ocean. The boardwalk always smells of funnel cake and french fries, and they go to the arcade, battling each other in skee-ball. They go neck in neck for a while, but Baekhyun manages to pull out a win, along with a truly obscenely sized teddy bear, a bright pink bow wrapped around its neck.
“Mine,” Jongin says, grabbing it, clinging to it like a child would. “I am so happy, I’m gonna fall into the ocean and die because nothing could be better than this moment.”
The lights of summer are dying around them, the last weekend in August before they’re due to report for seminars and set-ups.
They get chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream from the stand just a couple feet away, and they sit on the bench, the flashing blue and purple from the arcade and the reds and oranges of the setting sun making Jongin look even more beautiful than normal. The bear sits between them like a third member of their family, and for a moment, Baekhyun’s heart aches, thinking about them with...with someone else. Someone small.
“Last hoorah,” Jongin says, and he licks at his ice cream dramatically.
“Don’t say it,” Baekhyun says, laying his head on the bear’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna go.”
“Nah, summer’s nice,” Jongin says. “This summer especially.”
Baekhyun looks over, sees Jongin looking back at him. “What?”
“Just thinking,” Jongin says, “how I want the rest of my summers to be like this.”
“Like what?”
“With you.” Baekhyun’s lip wobbles for a minute before he sniffs, bites the top of his ice cream cone to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions of it all. Jongin looks at him with earned disgust. “Never mind. You monster.”
“Tha’s me,” Baekhyun says happily.
They sit on the bench, paint peeling off it, and they finish their ice cream in comfortable silence. They’ve been together long enough that they don’t need to fill every little gap with noise, much as sometimes, Baekhyun would like to. He runs, he runs and never stops running, but it’s nice to—it’s nice to stop running. It’s nice to be on the same page.
“We should get going,” Baekhyun says, watching the sun finally dip beneath the ocean for good. “It’s getting late.”
“Let’s take a walk,” Jongin says.
Baekhyun looks at him, already sliding off his shoes. When he meets Baekhyun’s eyes, he is smiling, shimmering and golden like sand. And Baekhyun thinks that maybe, just maybe, they were meant for each other. Supposed to end up just like this.
∞
It’s his first big boy job, as Jongin calls it, so Baekhyun feels appropriately nervous. But the first day for students goes really well, and Baekhyun settles in nicely. It’s just like practicum, only he has more freedom, and that’s what he always wanted in practicum. A little freedom. A little breathing room.
After he sends the kids home, he stays for a little while, straightening his desk. He’d rather be attentive than neat during the day, but it’s always best to be both.
It takes him 45 minutes to get home, and he listens to the Spotify playlist that Jongin made for him entitled Driving Miss Baekhyun. Each and every song has a story for the two of them, and Baekhyun smiles the whole way home.
When he gets upstairs, he opens the door to find Jongin waiting on the couch, smiling at him.
Baekhyun immediately bursts into tears.
“Hey, holy shit, wait, wait, wait,” Jongin says, scrambling over to Baekhyun, grabbing his bag from him and setting it down before he takes Baekhyun in his arms. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Baekhyun sobs.
“You’re literally soaking my shirt,” Jongin huffs with a laugh. “I don’t think you’re fine.”
“I am, I’m fine,” Baekhyun says, pushing back from Jongin to wipe the tears away from his face. “I think I was just—”, and he wipes at Jongin’s shirt, “overwhelmed.”
“Lot of emotions,” Jongin says.
“Yeah, it was just like, I don’t know, I’m not sad. I’m just so fucking happy? And I don’t know why I’m crying,” Baekhyun says, even as tears keep rolling down his face. “Fuck, I’m—”, and he buries his face in the crook of Jongin’s neck, “I’m so fucking happy I have you.”
“Hey, I’m the lucky one here,” Jongin says.
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
∞
Baekhyun’s favorite thing about being a real life adult with a job and a car (well, the car is Jongin’s, but he pretends), is that they get a nice little rhythm going. Baekhyun’s always thrived with rhythms, especially when Jongin is part of them. It feels domestic. Feels like finding home within someone.
They wake in the morning, and they allow themselves a cushion of ten minutes. That cushion usually is allocated to cuddling, and Baekhyun takes every little degree of heat he can once the temperature starts dropping in the fall. They hold each other close, sometimes have to stop from kissing because they know they’ll get carried away.
Jongin showers first, and Baekhyun gets coffee. He usually makes it through a cup and his morning scroll of Twitter by the time Jongin emerges, freshly showered and shaved and dolled up with his little ties.
“Oh shit,” Baekhyun says, running his fingers along the tie. “Pineapples.”
“I’m feeling very tropical today,” Jongin says. He lets Baekhyun pull him in for a kiss that’s too hot for a Wednesday morning in the middle of November. “Go. The water’s warm.”
Baekhyun stamps his feet. “I wanna fuck you in the shower.”
“Mm,” Jongin moans against Baekhyun’s lips. “Tell me about it.”
“All nice and warm. So wet. My hands all over your skin,” Baekhyun says, licking at Jongin’s mouth. “Your foot on the edge of the tub as I hold you by the hips.”
“Gonna stretch me?”
“Yes.”
Jongin sneaks a hand down to Baekhyun’s pajama pants, plays with the slit.
“No,” Baekhyun says with a whine. “I’m gonna get hard.”
“Jerk off in the shower,” Jongin says, “I’ll owe you one.”
“Fuck you,” Baekhyun says, and Jongin kisses him hard, leaves him gasping and writhing in the embrace. “Fuck you.”
“Tonight?” Jongin asks.
“You want me to jerk off or not?” Baekhyun smirks.
“Not,” Jongin says. “Come inside me later.”
Baekhyun throws his head back and groans, trudging off to the shower to will himself soft.
After he emerges, freshly clean and unaroused, Jongin has breakfast ready for him, cinnamon-sugar oatmeal and orange slices, more coffee to keep him wide awake throughout the day. They eat with their legs tangled under the table, and they talk about their days, what they’re working on, what drama the kids have between them. Second and fourth graders are quite different, but it’s fun all the same.
“Okay,” Baekhyun says. “I gotta get going.”
Jongin grabs Baekhyun’s thermos from the counter, holds it as he walks Baekhyun to the door. He doesn’t have to leave for another half hour, but he wakes up with Baekhyun, eats breakfast with him, talks with him anyway. Sends him off anyway.
“Drive safe,” Jongin says. “Have a good day.”
“You too,” Baekhyun says. “Love you.”
Jongin kisses him softly before gently directing him to the door. “Love you more, baby.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. But he loves the rhythm.
∞
They’re not the greatest cooks in the world, but they start to learn together.
“Get ‘em, get ‘em,” Jongin screeches.
“They’re fine,” Baekhyun says.
“They’re burning.”
“They’re, like, super good, don’t worry,” Baekhyun says. “You’re stressing for no reason.”
“The filets are going to char,” Jongin says. “And we paid ten dollars a pound for them.”
“Which is why I want them to turn out super good,” Baekhyun says. “Binging with Babish said—”
“I don’t care what Binging with Babish said,” Jongin banshee-screeches again, blowing out Baekhyun’s eardrum. “And by the way, he said crust.”
“It is a crust,” Baekhyun says, giving the filets a turn. “See? Perfect.” Jongin looks worried, so Baekhyun puts him to work. “Grab the chicken stock.”
They put off celebrating until the weekend because they wanted to be able to do it justice. Baekhyun’s glad for it, but still, it’s been a while since they’ve gotten the chance to really indulge. They’re both a little testy.
Jongin wheels around, grabs the stock, the thyme, and the garlic, and he tosses them in the pan as Baekhyun reduces the heat and gives them a whisk. As they wait for the steaks to come to temperature, Jongin deftly chops the parsley, capers, and lemon zest for the gremolata. Baekhyun knows he shouldn’t get in the way, but he sort of can’t help it, arms around Jongin’s waist.
“Check the steaks,” Jongin says, brushing his hands off after he’s finished.
Baekhyun sticks them with the thermometer that they bought specifically for this, and he doesn’t let himself smile thinking about how dopey that is. Two grown men without a meat thermometer. They’re gonna poison themselves.
“We’re good,” Baekhyun says. “You wanna slice, or should I?”
“You’re better with the knife,” Jongin says.
“I’ve always wanted a boy to tell me that.” He takes the steaks from the pan and moves them onto the cutting board, slicing them across the grain the way Andrew Rea told him to. “Kay, plate.”
Jongin lets Baekhyun place the filet, and then he gingerly dishes the gremolata on top, scooping the pan sauce up with a spoon and drizzling it overtop. It looks like something from a restaurant, smells even better.
“Shit, I think we did it,” Baekhyun says, looking down at the plates in amazement.
“I think we did,” Jongin says.
They light the candle off to the side of the table, and Jongin fills the glasses with the deep purple Shiraz. They both sit, forks and knives in hand.
“Happy anniversary,” Jongin says. “You try first.”
“No, you try,” Baekhyun says.
“We’re gonna get stuck in a cliche.”
“Isn’t that usually, like, an I love you more thing?”
“What can I say?” Jongin smirks. “We like food.”
Baekhyun cuts into the steak, and it feels like butter. “Oh, fuck yeah.” He lifts a small piece to his mouth, and fuck, he’s never tasted something so fucking good.
His face must show it because Jongin bursts into laughter. “That good?” He cuts into his own steak, tries. “Oh, god. It is that good.”
It’s nice, getting to do something nice for each other but do it together. Baekhyun smiles through the meal, so much that Jongin starts laughing at him.
“Shut up,” Baekhyun says. “I’m, like, happy.”
“I know,” Jongin says, and when he sets his fork down, finished, he grabs Baekhyun hand. “Me too.”
They wash the dishes together, Jongin drying and putting them away after Baekhyun rinses the soap away from them. The kitchen sparkles once they’re finished, and Jongin tops off their wine, the bottle emptied between them.
“Hey,” Jongin says, and he tips his glass to Baekhyun’s. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Baekhyun says, and he makes their glasses sing out congratulations. Two years have never been spent so happily.
Jongin wraps an arm around Baekhyun, and Baekhyun does the same. Baekhyun lays his cheek on Jongin’s chest, and they rock from side to side, gentle like the waves in the ocean. It feels like they’re married, it feels like they’re—like they’re on the edge of it. On the edge of forever. Baekhyun shuts his eyes.
“You okay?” Jongin whispers.
“Really good,” Baekhyun says.
“Good.”
He rests his head on Baekhyun’s, and they hold each other, dripping in infinity, like chilled red wine, like warm bath water.
∞
“We’re not gonna fit,” Jongin says. “I’m too big.”
“Shut up,” Baekhyun says. “Get in.” Jongin looks at the water warily. “Don’t be a coward, get in the bath.”
Jongin steps into the bath, the bubbles carving around his calves. He sits, and he looks up at Baekhyun, raising and eyebrow.
“Shut up,” Baekhyun repeats, and he steps in, right in front of Jongin and he sits between his legs. “See. We fit.”
“Barely,” Jongin says. “We can’t move unless we want to—” Baekhyun shifts to the side to look at Jongin, and water splashes onto the tile floor. “I swear to God, Baekhyun.”
“You swear what?” Baekhyun licks his lips as he stares at Jongin’s mouth, the plush red pout. “What do you swear?”
Jongin winds wet fingers through Baekhyun’s hair as he brings Baekhyun’s mouth to his, and they open up to each other like they’ve done it a million times, maybe more. Baekhyun turns, gets onto his knees between Jongin’s legs, and more water splashes onto the floor as he moves to straddle Jongin, pushing up against him, arms wrapped around his neck as he grinds into him.
“We don’t have lube in here anymore,” Jongin whispers. “You made me move it.”
“That’s ‘cause you kept trying to fuck my thighs,” Baekhyun whispers back.
“Can you blame me?” he groans, and he grabs Baekhyun by the backs of his thighs, fingertips dipping into the soft skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
“No,” Baekhyun says into Jongin’s mouth. “You are.”
∞
Jongin lays Baekhyun back on the bed after they’ve patted themselves dry, skin softened by the water.
“Get comfortable,” Jongin orders. “You’re gonna be there a while.”
“Me on the bottom?” Baekhyun asks.
“Whatever you want,” Jongin says. “I just wanna taste you.”
He takes Baekhyun’s calves in his hands, pulls his legs up into the air. He kneels on the floor, puts Baekhyun’s legs over his shoulders.
“Oh my god, I’m getting dizzy, all the blood is going to my cock,” Baekhyun says, hand on his forehead.
“Good thing you’re lying down,” Jongin says, mouthing along Baekhyun’s inner thigh. “Mm. I missed this.”
“We never have time to do shit like this,” Baekhyun sighs, toes curling in pleasure as Jongin starts to lick at him. “Oh, fuck, Jongin.”
“Say my name again.”
Baekhyun digs his heels into Jongin’s back, delighted when he groans into Baekhyun’s skin, the vibrations shivering through him. “Jongin. Jongin.”
Jongin eats him out so well, makes it so good that Baekhyun’s thighs shake against Jongin’s ears as he works. He manages to do everything Baekhyun likes, long, flat licks with his tongue coupled with little kitten-ish licks, like he’s shy about it. But there’s nothing shy about him, nothing about this.
It goes on forever, longer than Baekhyun can take. He puts a ring of his thumb and index finger around the base of his dick, doesn’t let himself jerk off, because he knows that he’d come the way Jongin hums over his hole as he moves.
“S-stop,” Baekhyun says. “Please, I’m—”
“You wanna do something else?” Jongin asks, head popping up from between Baekhyun’s legs. And God, it is the hottest picture.
Baekhyun squeezes his legs involuntarily. “Get up here,” he orders.
Jongin crawls onto the bed, his body flat on Baekhyun’s as he kisses him hard, desperate for something else. Something more. Their cocks thrust against each other’s, and it gets sticky with precome, but Baekhyun needs something better. He grabs for the lube, pours it into a hand and warms it quickly before slicking both of them up.
“We can just stay like this,” Jongin says, pumping his hips as they grind into each other, slow and tenuous. “We don’t have to—”
“No, shut up,” Baekhyun says. “Someone is fucking someone. We have time. It’s our anniversary.”
“Technically, our anniversary wa—”
“Technically, someone is getting railed...or else,” Baekhyun says.
“I volunteer,” Jongin says.
“I’m basically prepped,” Baekhyun says. “You ate me out for like, ten minutes.”
“So?” Jongin says. He reaches across the bed, grabs the lube. He wets his fingers before Baekhyun can say otherwise, and when he reaches back, touching himself enough to make his mouth fall open in pleasure, Baekhyun doesn’t feel like he has anything to say.
“Fuck,” Baekhyun says, and he ruts into Jongin’s hip. “Fuck, Jongin.”
Jongin shuts his eyes as he tilts forward, mouth open and lazy against Baekhyun’s as he fingers himself. He moans when he manages to get the angle right, and Baekhyun can’t help it, needs to do something, so he slicks his own fingers up, slides one in alongside Jongin’s two.
“F-Fuck,” Jongin stutters. “More. More.”
“Take it slow,” Baekhyun says.
“No,” Jongin whines. “Come on. We’ve got all night.”
Baekhyun can’t argue. Doesn’t want to tonight. On Sunday morning, they will have no alarm to wake up with, and it won’t matter if their mouths are dry, if they are still wet with each other. Nothing will matter except for what they did, the love they managed to make. Over and over again. Forever. Always.
Jongin climbs onto him, legs on either side of Baekhyun’s body, and when he sinks down onto Baekhyun, Baekhyun sees stars, or maybe it is just the way Jongin’s eyes shine.
“Fuck,” Jongin says, and he starts to move, slow rolls of his hips as he tests the waters.
“You’re so—”
“I’m so what?” Jongin asks, and he runs a hand through his hair as he holds it out of his face as he starts to fuck himself in earnest, the breath punched out of him every time he lowers himself. “What am I?”
“Perfect,” Baekhyun whispers. “So fucking perfect.”
What I wouldn’t give to keep this moment, this love, in glass, he thinks, hands on Jongin’s hips as he shivers, brings them both to the edge and lets them sit there, trembling. Trying to hold on.
∞
The room is quiet and still as lie in the embrace, clean white sheets wrapped around them. Baekhyun’s mind swirls with the possibilities of them, of their life. They’re already halfway through their first year at their schools. Maybe there will be an opening at Jongin’s. Maybe they could ride the train in the morning together. Maybe they could eat lunch together. Maybe they could be that annoying teacher couple that all the kids hate.
“What are you smiling about?” Jongin asks, poking Baekhyun in the cheek.
“Us,” Baekhyun says. “Just thinking about the future.”
“How distant?” Jongin asks. “Rings future or cradle future?”
Baekhyun turns onto his side excitedly. “Neither, but...but do you think about those?”
“Of course.” He leans into Baekhyun’s space, steals a kiss and holds Baekhyun’s hand in his. “Do you?”
“About which?”
“Either,” Jongin says with a smile. “Both.”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I think about it.”
“About which?”
“Either,” Baekhyun says. “Both.”
Jongin kisses Baekhyun’s forehead. “You thought about colors yet?” He pulls back smirking.
“No, but I know you have,” Baekhyun says.
“Obviously,” he says. “Forest green and gold.”
“Ooh,” Baekhyun says. “Rose gold.”
Jongin smiles, and they cuddle closer together.
“This is why we work.”