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various drabbles [exo, infinite, etc]
sehun/suho/chanyeol, PG, 890 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'battle royale au ? (any pairing) :3'
Joonmyun is not quite sure what to do with the sight that greets him when he emerges from his room. He'd just wanted to take advantage of their day off to get some things done, maybe get around to some reading, but clearly, that was not to be. He props himself against the doorframe, unsure whether to laugh or roll his eyes.
Jongin and Kyungsoo had gone out to get coffees, braving the cameras out front, and Joonmyun is fairly certain that Baekhyun stayed the night in Yifan's room. Which only leaves two possible suspects for the mess in the living room right now: Sehun and Chanyeol.
He can't be certain it's Sehun under there. Somewhere in the firefight, a pillow had been sacrificed to the cause, and now there were feathers everywhere. Specifically, there were feathers piled on top of what Joonmyun assumed was Sehun's face. Chanyeol had him pinned, his weight resting on Sehun's belly, his hands holding Sehun's tight above his head. "Give in?" he asks. He's breathless and flushed with exertion, grinning in that bright and slightly weird way of his.
"No!" Sehun shakes his head violently to rid himself of the feathers. "No way!" He grits his teeth, lifting his hips to try to dislodge. A feather sticks to his lips and Sehun spits furiously, looking harried. "Who even has feather pillows anymore?" It takes him a minute, but he works his hand free and his fingers close on a pillow just in range. Armed again, Sehun thwacks Chanyeol upside the head, yelping with laughter as he wriggles free and finally pulls that feather out of his mouth.
Even if they had been noisy enough to make it impossible for him to accomplish anything, Joonmyun can't help but smile. It's nice to see them so relaxed, taking advantage of their time. Maybe -
Joonmyun slips back into his room, and when he emerges, the tables have turned. Chanyeol is curled up, shielding his face with one hand and laughing so hard he could barely beg for mercy. Sehun, of course, is merciless. He's practically kneeling on Chanyeol's hunched shoulders as he beats him with his pillow, a devious grin on his face. "Say it," he says. "Say it! Say I'm the champion."
Chanyeol just groans in response, trying to protect his ears from the assault, swinging back wildly and trying to shake Sehun off.
Maybe it's time to even things out. Joonmyun swings his pillow with enough force behind it to send Sehun sprawling, and Chanyeol whoops. "Leader to the rescue!" he cheers, but then he's got a mouthful of pillow too.
"There's only one champion here," Joonmyun informs them, standing above them with his pillow in hand.
"I didn't know you had it in you," Chanyeol says, picking feathers out of his hair.
Sehun's eyes are wide and horrified. "That's my pillow!" he says. It is, in fact. It was a gift from the fans. It has his face on it. Joonmyun thinks it's appropriate, and he belts him again.
"No fair!" Sehun protests, even as Chanyeol is scrambling to grab a pillow off the couch and return fire. Joonmyun should've known bettre than to let Sehun distract him, but he does, and Chanyeol hits him with another whoop. Joonmyun hits the couch as Sehun laughs, tossing a handful of feathers at him.
The fight lasts longer than Joonmyun would've thought it would, and it's Sehun who ends up triumphant in the end. He kneels and raises his hands in the air in victory. "I win!" he crows.
"You win," Joonmyun agrees from where he's sprawled on his back, breathing hard. The Sehun pillow is abandoned somewhere else, and Joonmyun occupies his hands by combing through Chanyeol's hair. Chanyeol's head rests on Joonmyun's belly, and he laughs, flashing a thumbs up at Sehun. "I'm very happy for you."
Unceremoniously, Sehun shoves his way between the two of them, wriggling up under Joonmyun's arm and then dragging Chanyeol in. "I'm claiming my prize," he says.
Chanyeol frowns at him until Joonmyun raises his eyebrows and rubs a hand soothingly down his arm, and then he changes tactics, shifting to press his body up against Sehun's back. "What prize?" Chanyeol scoffs, his voice muffled by Sehun's shoulder. "I didn't know there was a prize. I never would've let you win if I'd known there was a prize."
Joonmyun has to bite back a laugh when Sehun snakes a hand back and down between them, watching as Chanyeol's eyes go wide and he freezes. "Oh," Chanyeol says. He meets Joonmyun's eyes and there's the start of a grin on his lips. "That kind of prize."
It's impressive, actually, how good Sehun has gotten at multitasking. Chanyeol lets out a completely dignified squeak at the same time that Sehun's teeth close on Joonmyun's collarbone. "C'mon," Sehun mutters, and then he looks up at Joonmyun. "I won. Do I have to do all the work?"
Joonmyun sees how it is. He and Chanyeol share a glance and then he rolls Sehun onto his back in one quick movement, startling a yelp out of him. He sets about kissing Sehun breathless as Chanyeol starts dragging his jeans off, and Joonmyun hopes desperately that no one comes home any time soon.
Jongin and Kyungsoo had gone out to get coffees, braving the cameras out front, and Joonmyun is fairly certain that Baekhyun stayed the night in Yifan's room. Which only leaves two possible suspects for the mess in the living room right now: Sehun and Chanyeol.
He can't be certain it's Sehun under there. Somewhere in the firefight, a pillow had been sacrificed to the cause, and now there were feathers everywhere. Specifically, there were feathers piled on top of what Joonmyun assumed was Sehun's face. Chanyeol had him pinned, his weight resting on Sehun's belly, his hands holding Sehun's tight above his head. "Give in?" he asks. He's breathless and flushed with exertion, grinning in that bright and slightly weird way of his.
"No!" Sehun shakes his head violently to rid himself of the feathers. "No way!" He grits his teeth, lifting his hips to try to dislodge. A feather sticks to his lips and Sehun spits furiously, looking harried. "Who even has feather pillows anymore?" It takes him a minute, but he works his hand free and his fingers close on a pillow just in range. Armed again, Sehun thwacks Chanyeol upside the head, yelping with laughter as he wriggles free and finally pulls that feather out of his mouth.
Even if they had been noisy enough to make it impossible for him to accomplish anything, Joonmyun can't help but smile. It's nice to see them so relaxed, taking advantage of their time. Maybe -
Joonmyun slips back into his room, and when he emerges, the tables have turned. Chanyeol is curled up, shielding his face with one hand and laughing so hard he could barely beg for mercy. Sehun, of course, is merciless. He's practically kneeling on Chanyeol's hunched shoulders as he beats him with his pillow, a devious grin on his face. "Say it," he says. "Say it! Say I'm the champion."
Chanyeol just groans in response, trying to protect his ears from the assault, swinging back wildly and trying to shake Sehun off.
Maybe it's time to even things out. Joonmyun swings his pillow with enough force behind it to send Sehun sprawling, and Chanyeol whoops. "Leader to the rescue!" he cheers, but then he's got a mouthful of pillow too.
"There's only one champion here," Joonmyun informs them, standing above them with his pillow in hand.
"I didn't know you had it in you," Chanyeol says, picking feathers out of his hair.
Sehun's eyes are wide and horrified. "That's my pillow!" he says. It is, in fact. It was a gift from the fans. It has his face on it. Joonmyun thinks it's appropriate, and he belts him again.
"No fair!" Sehun protests, even as Chanyeol is scrambling to grab a pillow off the couch and return fire. Joonmyun should've known bettre than to let Sehun distract him, but he does, and Chanyeol hits him with another whoop. Joonmyun hits the couch as Sehun laughs, tossing a handful of feathers at him.
The fight lasts longer than Joonmyun would've thought it would, and it's Sehun who ends up triumphant in the end. He kneels and raises his hands in the air in victory. "I win!" he crows.
"You win," Joonmyun agrees from where he's sprawled on his back, breathing hard. The Sehun pillow is abandoned somewhere else, and Joonmyun occupies his hands by combing through Chanyeol's hair. Chanyeol's head rests on Joonmyun's belly, and he laughs, flashing a thumbs up at Sehun. "I'm very happy for you."
Unceremoniously, Sehun shoves his way between the two of them, wriggling up under Joonmyun's arm and then dragging Chanyeol in. "I'm claiming my prize," he says.
Chanyeol frowns at him until Joonmyun raises his eyebrows and rubs a hand soothingly down his arm, and then he changes tactics, shifting to press his body up against Sehun's back. "What prize?" Chanyeol scoffs, his voice muffled by Sehun's shoulder. "I didn't know there was a prize. I never would've let you win if I'd known there was a prize."
Joonmyun has to bite back a laugh when Sehun snakes a hand back and down between them, watching as Chanyeol's eyes go wide and he freezes. "Oh," Chanyeol says. He meets Joonmyun's eyes and there's the start of a grin on his lips. "That kind of prize."
It's impressive, actually, how good Sehun has gotten at multitasking. Chanyeol lets out a completely dignified squeak at the same time that Sehun's teeth close on Joonmyun's collarbone. "C'mon," Sehun mutters, and then he looks up at Joonmyun. "I won. Do I have to do all the work?"
Joonmyun sees how it is. He and Chanyeol share a glance and then he rolls Sehun onto his back in one quick movement, startling a yelp out of him. He sets about kissing Sehun breathless as Chanyeol starts dragging his jeans off, and Joonmyun hopes desperately that no one comes home any time soon.
himchan/suho, pg, 700 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'him/ho: rich kids/rolling around gangnam/charity gala/sexy imported cars/idk'.
Himchan is bored. No - bored doesn't quite cover it. Himchan is utterly exhausted of this gala already, and they haven't even gotten to the after-dinner drinks. Of course, that could be why he's so bored. His father always insisted he attend these parties, and Himchan has to admit, getting dressed up in an expensive suit and peacocking in front of pretty young heiresses has its rewards.
But this is one of those business affairs, and the only company he has, besides his father's associates, is Kim Joonmyun. His father is the CEO of some electronics company, Himchan isn't sure which and he never particularly cared to know, really. The problem with Joonmyun is, no matter how nice he may look in that hand tailored suit, he remains excruciatingly nice. It makes him exceedingly well-suited for these galas, charming and complimentary and excellent with the polite small talk. It also makes him exceedingly dull. Himchan has no real desire to talk about his mother's clothing line or how his sister is doing in school or football, and that seems to be the only thing that Joonmyun knows how to talk about.
(A shame, really. He's handsome, in that Prince Charming kind of way)
So here he stands, listening to some white-haired man drone on about stocks and nodding politely. Being the oldest child sucks.
"Ah, excuse me." Joonmyun's voice is polite as he wraps a hand around Himchan's elbow. "May I borrow Himchan-ssi for a moment? It's quite important."
Himchan hasn't the slightest idea what someone like Joonmyun could need with him, but that doesn't mean he isn't grateful for the out from the conversation. He follows Joonmyun out of the hall, down a broad corridor. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asks curiously.
Joonmyun slides his jacket off his shoulders as they walk, and Himchan is struck again by how small he is. "You looked bored," Joonmyun says. "I thought you could use a rescue."
Now that is unexpected. Himchan pauses, and it takes Joonmyun a few seconds to realize that he's not following and turn. They're nearly at the front door now. "Nice of you," Himchan concedes, feeling a bit suspicious.
"Wasn't it?" Joonmyun agrees sweetly. He speaks quietly to one of the men at the door and he nods and disappears. "I thought so."
Himchan raises an eyebrow. Where did that sass come from? "So what is this? Why are we here?"
When the doors swing open in front of them, Joonmyun sweeps out one skinny arm, as polite as always. "After you," he implores.
Well, it's either this or getting drunk just to get through the night, and Himchan really, truly hates champagne hangovers. He walks out into the summer air and is faced by a gorgeous sports car. "Whoa," he says. It's beautiful, sleek and black and must've cost an absolute fortune. Lucky bastard.
"A birthday present," Joonmyun says, and his hand alights on Himchan's back for just a second, nudging him forward. "I haven't gotten a chance to play with it yet."
It's tempting. It is oh, so tempting. Himchan steps forward and drags his fingertips across the polished hood. "And you decided to invite me along?" He turns to look at Joonmyun, standing neatly at the curb, heels together, bowtie perfectly placed at his throat, jacket folded carefully over one arm. "Why?"
Joonmyun smiles. "You think I'm a bore, don't you?" Himchan opens his mouth to argue, but the expression on Joonmyun's face is serene and knowing. "Come on." Joonmyun accepts the keys from the valet and slides into the front seat. "Well?"
Why not? In just a matter of minutes, Joonmyun had become about three times as interesting as Himchan had previously thought. Why not see where this could go? He nods his thanks to the valet as he climbs into the front seat and the man closes the door after him. "Alright," he says. "Where to?"
Joonmyun flashes him a grin and starts the car and as they race down the street, Himchan loosens his tie and grins back. This is way better than free champagne.
But this is one of those business affairs, and the only company he has, besides his father's associates, is Kim Joonmyun. His father is the CEO of some electronics company, Himchan isn't sure which and he never particularly cared to know, really. The problem with Joonmyun is, no matter how nice he may look in that hand tailored suit, he remains excruciatingly nice. It makes him exceedingly well-suited for these galas, charming and complimentary and excellent with the polite small talk. It also makes him exceedingly dull. Himchan has no real desire to talk about his mother's clothing line or how his sister is doing in school or football, and that seems to be the only thing that Joonmyun knows how to talk about.
(A shame, really. He's handsome, in that Prince Charming kind of way)
So here he stands, listening to some white-haired man drone on about stocks and nodding politely. Being the oldest child sucks.
"Ah, excuse me." Joonmyun's voice is polite as he wraps a hand around Himchan's elbow. "May I borrow Himchan-ssi for a moment? It's quite important."
Himchan hasn't the slightest idea what someone like Joonmyun could need with him, but that doesn't mean he isn't grateful for the out from the conversation. He follows Joonmyun out of the hall, down a broad corridor. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asks curiously.
Joonmyun slides his jacket off his shoulders as they walk, and Himchan is struck again by how small he is. "You looked bored," Joonmyun says. "I thought you could use a rescue."
Now that is unexpected. Himchan pauses, and it takes Joonmyun a few seconds to realize that he's not following and turn. They're nearly at the front door now. "Nice of you," Himchan concedes, feeling a bit suspicious.
"Wasn't it?" Joonmyun agrees sweetly. He speaks quietly to one of the men at the door and he nods and disappears. "I thought so."
Himchan raises an eyebrow. Where did that sass come from? "So what is this? Why are we here?"
When the doors swing open in front of them, Joonmyun sweeps out one skinny arm, as polite as always. "After you," he implores.
Well, it's either this or getting drunk just to get through the night, and Himchan really, truly hates champagne hangovers. He walks out into the summer air and is faced by a gorgeous sports car. "Whoa," he says. It's beautiful, sleek and black and must've cost an absolute fortune. Lucky bastard.
"A birthday present," Joonmyun says, and his hand alights on Himchan's back for just a second, nudging him forward. "I haven't gotten a chance to play with it yet."
It's tempting. It is oh, so tempting. Himchan steps forward and drags his fingertips across the polished hood. "And you decided to invite me along?" He turns to look at Joonmyun, standing neatly at the curb, heels together, bowtie perfectly placed at his throat, jacket folded carefully over one arm. "Why?"
Joonmyun smiles. "You think I'm a bore, don't you?" Himchan opens his mouth to argue, but the expression on Joonmyun's face is serene and knowing. "Come on." Joonmyun accepts the keys from the valet and slides into the front seat. "Well?"
Why not? In just a matter of minutes, Joonmyun had become about three times as interesting as Himchan had previously thought. Why not see where this could go? He nods his thanks to the valet as he climbs into the front seat and the man closes the door after him. "Alright," he says. "Where to?"
Joonmyun flashes him a grin and starts the car and as they race down the street, Himchan loosens his tie and grins back. This is way better than free champagne.
woohyun/hoya, pg, 570 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'Woohyun keeps taking up more and more space'.
Hoya only really notices it when he lands on his back on the floor in the middle of the night, the breath knocked out of him. He stares up at the ceiling for a few long minutes, astonished. "Are you kidding me?" he mutters.
It takes him a few seconds before he's got his breath back and climbs back into bed, shoving Woohyun back over to his side of the bed. It earns him a grunt and then Woohyun is blinking at him, bleary and irritated. "What are you doing?" he grumbles.
"You're taking over the bed," Hoya tells him, and Woohyun laughs, his head dropping back onto the pillow as a skinny arm snakes across Hoya's chest. "You kicked me off!"
"Oops," Woohyun says, squirming over until he's sprawled across Hoya's chest, face against Hoya's shoulder.
Hoya can feel Woohyun's breathing even out soon enough, which is kind of unfair, he thinks. He's the one stuck wide awake from the fall. It's a good thing tomorrow is Sunday, at least he can sleep in.
In the dim light from the street lights outside the window, Hoya can see his bedside table. There's a glass of water, for Woohyun (he hates a dry throat in the morning), and the book Woohyun had been reading when they'd gone to bed. If the lights were on, Hoya would be able to see more signs of Woohyun's presence: his jacket, draped over the back of the chair, a picture he'd insisted would look good on the wall facing the window, the socks Hoya had bought him balled up near the laundry basket (Woohyun's aim went to shit when he was sleepy). If he thinks about it, the bed isn't the only thing that Woohyun has taken over. His sink in the bathroom is littered with Woohyun's hair products, his kitchen is filled with new utensils and pans, things that Woohyun insisted were necessary to cook a good meal. If someone were to walk into his apartment right now, they might see more of Woohyun than Hoya.
Laying awake in the dark, Hoya lets that sink in. He blinks at the red glow of the alarm clock (that, at least, was his) and thinks. He can feel Woohyun shift a little, squirming until his breathing comes easier. "Hey," Hoya says softly. "Hey."
"What." Woohyun doesn't lift his head to speak, his lips dragging across Hoya's collarbones.
"When did you move in?"
Woohyun's chuckle is throaty with sleep and genuine amusement, and he raises his eyes to look down at him. "Took you long enough," he says. Hoya makes a noise of outrage, jostling Woohyun with the arm stretched beneath his shoulder. "Does it matter?" Woohyun asks. He drops his hand across Hoya's face and closes his eyelids, ignoring Hoya's noise of protest. "Can the big relationship crisis at least wait until morning?"
"I'm not having a crisis," Hoya grumbles. He's totally not! Much. He just feels like maybe, you know, such a big relationship decision could've been made by both of them.
"Go to sleep," Woohyun orders, voice soft. "We'll divide up closet space in the morning." Hoya would struggle, but he likes the way that Woohyun's hand splays across his belly and he is so very tired. Woohyun's right. In the morning, he can make Woohyun suffer for taking over his apartment. After he makes breakfast, though. Definitely.
It takes him a few seconds before he's got his breath back and climbs back into bed, shoving Woohyun back over to his side of the bed. It earns him a grunt and then Woohyun is blinking at him, bleary and irritated. "What are you doing?" he grumbles.
"You're taking over the bed," Hoya tells him, and Woohyun laughs, his head dropping back onto the pillow as a skinny arm snakes across Hoya's chest. "You kicked me off!"
"Oops," Woohyun says, squirming over until he's sprawled across Hoya's chest, face against Hoya's shoulder.
Hoya can feel Woohyun's breathing even out soon enough, which is kind of unfair, he thinks. He's the one stuck wide awake from the fall. It's a good thing tomorrow is Sunday, at least he can sleep in.
In the dim light from the street lights outside the window, Hoya can see his bedside table. There's a glass of water, for Woohyun (he hates a dry throat in the morning), and the book Woohyun had been reading when they'd gone to bed. If the lights were on, Hoya would be able to see more signs of Woohyun's presence: his jacket, draped over the back of the chair, a picture he'd insisted would look good on the wall facing the window, the socks Hoya had bought him balled up near the laundry basket (Woohyun's aim went to shit when he was sleepy). If he thinks about it, the bed isn't the only thing that Woohyun has taken over. His sink in the bathroom is littered with Woohyun's hair products, his kitchen is filled with new utensils and pans, things that Woohyun insisted were necessary to cook a good meal. If someone were to walk into his apartment right now, they might see more of Woohyun than Hoya.
Laying awake in the dark, Hoya lets that sink in. He blinks at the red glow of the alarm clock (that, at least, was his) and thinks. He can feel Woohyun shift a little, squirming until his breathing comes easier. "Hey," Hoya says softly. "Hey."
"What." Woohyun doesn't lift his head to speak, his lips dragging across Hoya's collarbones.
"When did you move in?"
Woohyun's chuckle is throaty with sleep and genuine amusement, and he raises his eyes to look down at him. "Took you long enough," he says. Hoya makes a noise of outrage, jostling Woohyun with the arm stretched beneath his shoulder. "Does it matter?" Woohyun asks. He drops his hand across Hoya's face and closes his eyelids, ignoring Hoya's noise of protest. "Can the big relationship crisis at least wait until morning?"
"I'm not having a crisis," Hoya grumbles. He's totally not! Much. He just feels like maybe, you know, such a big relationship decision could've been made by both of them.
"Go to sleep," Woohyun orders, voice soft. "We'll divide up closet space in the morning." Hoya would struggle, but he likes the way that Woohyun's hand splays across his belly and he is so very tired. Woohyun's right. In the morning, he can make Woohyun suffer for taking over his apartment. After he makes breakfast, though. Definitely.
dongwoo/hoya/woohyun, pg, 515 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'dongwoo/woohyun/hoya spies'.
"And...go!"
The little room sways from side to side with the motion of the train, and it's silent except for the quickfire clatter of gun parts, snapping into place. Dongwoo is lounging on the bed, chin propped up on one hand as he watches Woohyun and Hoya reassemble their weapons, as quickly as they can. In his other hand is his phone, a stopwatch ticking away as they work. He knows better to speak, they both take this so seriously, their faces twin in their intensity and concentration.
"Done!" Hoya crows, his gun in his hands and pointed casually at Woohyun's face. He's only a fraction of a second faster than Woohyun, who finishes reassembling his gun before he groans, tossing the rag he'd used to clean the parts at Hoya's face.
"Hoya wins it," Dongwoo agrees. Woohyun lets out a whine, sagging in his seat, letting his arms flop at his side dramatically. "He takes lead on this one."
Across the tiny table, by contrast, Hoya is all puffed up. "No contest." He straightens the collar of his expensive silk shirt unnecessarily, grinning smugly at Woohyun.
Woohyun takes refuge in Dongwoo's bed, lunging forward to roll on top of him and bury his face in Dongwoo's throat. His hot breath on Dongwoo's neck makes Dongwoo giggle and push his hands away. "No fair," he says. His petulance is all in good fun, but there's always an edge to it when Woohyun loses, and Dongwoo pets his hair, glancing up at Hoya pointedly.
"Fair and square," Hoya argues, propping his feet up on the table. "Besides, you're the better shot. You should be on the rooftop anyway." He meets Dongwoo's eyes over Woohyun's head, and Dongwoo smiles at him. The compliment is a bit begrudging, but their competitiveness aside, Hoya knows that now, a day before the biggest mission of their lives, they do not need an anxious Woohyun.
"You're just saying that," Woohyun says, and Hoya sticks out his leg, digging his toes into Woohyun's ribs.
"Yah," Dongwoo says, and he tugs gently at Woohyun's hair. "Take the compliment."
Hoya is frowning at Woohyun, but it softens when Woohyun turns to grin at him, holding out a hand. "You're right," he says as Hoya takes it. Dongwoo squirms over until he's pressed up against the wall, leaving just enough space for all three of them to fit on the bed. "I'm a way better shot."
"How long do we have until we hit Berlin?" Hoya asks.
"Nine hours," Dongwoo answers. In Berlin, their mission and possibly the safety of their country awaits. He takes a deep breath. Woohyun is moving again, clambering over Dongwoo and nudging him forward until he's effectively trapped between their solid bodies.
"Nap time," Woohyun says firmly, his hand falling to grip Dongwoo's hip even as Hoya pushes his knee between Dongwoo's legs, trying to get comfortable. Nap time. Every good agent knows the value of sleep, after all. And Dongwoo has never gotten a better night's rest than with his partners.
The little room sways from side to side with the motion of the train, and it's silent except for the quickfire clatter of gun parts, snapping into place. Dongwoo is lounging on the bed, chin propped up on one hand as he watches Woohyun and Hoya reassemble their weapons, as quickly as they can. In his other hand is his phone, a stopwatch ticking away as they work. He knows better to speak, they both take this so seriously, their faces twin in their intensity and concentration.
"Done!" Hoya crows, his gun in his hands and pointed casually at Woohyun's face. He's only a fraction of a second faster than Woohyun, who finishes reassembling his gun before he groans, tossing the rag he'd used to clean the parts at Hoya's face.
"Hoya wins it," Dongwoo agrees. Woohyun lets out a whine, sagging in his seat, letting his arms flop at his side dramatically. "He takes lead on this one."
Across the tiny table, by contrast, Hoya is all puffed up. "No contest." He straightens the collar of his expensive silk shirt unnecessarily, grinning smugly at Woohyun.
Woohyun takes refuge in Dongwoo's bed, lunging forward to roll on top of him and bury his face in Dongwoo's throat. His hot breath on Dongwoo's neck makes Dongwoo giggle and push his hands away. "No fair," he says. His petulance is all in good fun, but there's always an edge to it when Woohyun loses, and Dongwoo pets his hair, glancing up at Hoya pointedly.
"Fair and square," Hoya argues, propping his feet up on the table. "Besides, you're the better shot. You should be on the rooftop anyway." He meets Dongwoo's eyes over Woohyun's head, and Dongwoo smiles at him. The compliment is a bit begrudging, but their competitiveness aside, Hoya knows that now, a day before the biggest mission of their lives, they do not need an anxious Woohyun.
"You're just saying that," Woohyun says, and Hoya sticks out his leg, digging his toes into Woohyun's ribs.
"Yah," Dongwoo says, and he tugs gently at Woohyun's hair. "Take the compliment."
Hoya is frowning at Woohyun, but it softens when Woohyun turns to grin at him, holding out a hand. "You're right," he says as Hoya takes it. Dongwoo squirms over until he's pressed up against the wall, leaving just enough space for all three of them to fit on the bed. "I'm a way better shot."
"How long do we have until we hit Berlin?" Hoya asks.
"Nine hours," Dongwoo answers. In Berlin, their mission and possibly the safety of their country awaits. He takes a deep breath. Woohyun is moving again, clambering over Dongwoo and nudging him forward until he's effectively trapped between their solid bodies.
"Nap time," Woohyun says firmly, his hand falling to grip Dongwoo's hip even as Hoya pushes his knee between Dongwoo's legs, trying to get comfortable. Nap time. Every good agent knows the value of sleep, after all. And Dongwoo has never gotten a better night's rest than with his partners.
hoya/dongwoo, pg, 455 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'yadong: dongwoo tried to contact aliens'.
"Aliens? Hyung, you are so drunk." Dongwoo just laughs, his head shifting against Hoya's belly as his shoulders shake. He's only had a few, so he's comfortably settled in that in-between drunk phase that means he's even gigglier than usual. Hoya doesn't mind. He cards his fingers through Dongwoo's soft hair and grins as Dongwoo rolls to face him, turning just far enough to bite at Hoya's chest through his shirt. "Aliens."
"I knew you were gonna laugh," Dongwoo says, but he's not offended. He's tipping his head into Hoya's touch like a cat, walking his fingers up Hoya's ribs. Right now, just like this, this is perfect. They've patched things up, since their falling out a few months ago, but sometimes, he can still feel that distance between them, the hesitation, the worry that he's pushing too far. A little alcohol erases that. Dongwoo doesn't hold back from catching Hoya's free hand between his and just holding it there, warm and comfortable.
"I'm not," Hoya protests. He's full of shit and Dongwoo knows it, throwing his head back to shout with laughter. "It's just. You tried to contact aliens?"
Dongwoo shrugs his shoulder. He's playing with Hoya's fingers now, toying with them one after another. "I had a big imagination as a kid," he says.
"How did you do it?" Hoya tugs at Dongwoo's hair and Dongwoo obligingly tilts his head back, his eyes sliding from their linked hands to Hoya's face.
"I set up a bunch of lights in the backyard." Dongwoo grins. Hoya likes the way he lights up, face flushed from the night's drinking, his hair a mess from Hoya's hands and he smiles himself.
"Did it work?" He tries to tug his hand out of Dongwoo's grip and laughs when Dongwoo brings his hand up to his mouth, teeth closing gently on the knuckles of Hoya's first finger. "Did you make contact with Martians?"
Dongwoo shifts around, squirming forward until he's lying almost on top of Hoya, chin resting against his sternum. "No," he admits. "But it looked nice, at night."
"Sometimes I think you're the one from outer space," Hoya tells him, rubbing his knuckles against the top of Dongwoo's head.
In a quick movement, Dongwoo lunges forward, grabbing Hoya's face with both hands. "Am I?"
All Hoya has to do to kiss him is to tip his chin up and catch his mouth. The way Dongwoo kisses him is easy and enthusiastic, his tongue sweet with the aftertaste of his drink. God, he's missed this. "My Martian?" he asks tentatively.
"Yours," Dongwoo agrees, and when he tries to kiss Hoya again, they're both almost smiling too hard to make it work
"I knew you were gonna laugh," Dongwoo says, but he's not offended. He's tipping his head into Hoya's touch like a cat, walking his fingers up Hoya's ribs. Right now, just like this, this is perfect. They've patched things up, since their falling out a few months ago, but sometimes, he can still feel that distance between them, the hesitation, the worry that he's pushing too far. A little alcohol erases that. Dongwoo doesn't hold back from catching Hoya's free hand between his and just holding it there, warm and comfortable.
"I'm not," Hoya protests. He's full of shit and Dongwoo knows it, throwing his head back to shout with laughter. "It's just. You tried to contact aliens?"
Dongwoo shrugs his shoulder. He's playing with Hoya's fingers now, toying with them one after another. "I had a big imagination as a kid," he says.
"How did you do it?" Hoya tugs at Dongwoo's hair and Dongwoo obligingly tilts his head back, his eyes sliding from their linked hands to Hoya's face.
"I set up a bunch of lights in the backyard." Dongwoo grins. Hoya likes the way he lights up, face flushed from the night's drinking, his hair a mess from Hoya's hands and he smiles himself.
"Did it work?" He tries to tug his hand out of Dongwoo's grip and laughs when Dongwoo brings his hand up to his mouth, teeth closing gently on the knuckles of Hoya's first finger. "Did you make contact with Martians?"
Dongwoo shifts around, squirming forward until he's lying almost on top of Hoya, chin resting against his sternum. "No," he admits. "But it looked nice, at night."
"Sometimes I think you're the one from outer space," Hoya tells him, rubbing his knuckles against the top of Dongwoo's head.
In a quick movement, Dongwoo lunges forward, grabbing Hoya's face with both hands. "Am I?"
All Hoya has to do to kiss him is to tip his chin up and catch his mouth. The way Dongwoo kisses him is easy and enthusiastic, his tongue sweet with the aftertaste of his drink. God, he's missed this. "My Martian?" he asks tentatively.
"Yours," Dongwoo agrees, and when he tries to kiss Hoya again, they're both almost smiling too hard to make it work
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(Anonymous) 2014-01-03 02:17 am (UTC)(link)Joonmyun slides his jacket off his shoulders as they walk, and Himchan is struck again by how small he is. *___________* ♥ tiniest, cutest gangnam oppar.
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TINIEST OPPAR
♥