![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
various drabbles
bang/himchan, PG, 525 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'bang/himchan bodyswap'
The first thing Himchan notices are his hands. He’s pretty sure his nails weren’t quite so manicured when he’d gone to sleep. Maybe he’s not quite awake yet. He squints at his hands, turning them over in front of his face and yawning. They’re familiar, but he’s pretty sure they’re not his. He must not be getting enough sleep.
Problem is, even as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, the feeling doesn’t fade. His skin doesn’t quite seem to fit right, and when he yawns and brings his fingers up to cover his mouth, the shape of his lips is distinctly unfamiliar. That wakes him up in a hurry. He climbs out of bed, tripping over his blankets, and stands in front of the mirror.
That was not what he’d been expecting. Yongguk’s face stares back at him from his reflection, it’s Yongguk’s wide mouth that drops open, his eyes that stretch big with astonishment, his shock of ugly bleached blond hair. He pulls at it. It’s just as fried as it looks.
Himchan takes a few seconds to categorize the differences between them. Yongguk’s slimmer, more muscled. It’s kind of neat to watch the way his muscles shift under his skin. In his reflection his eyes follow the line of Yongguk’s shoulders, down his chest to his narrow waist, and then -
Himchan’s eyes widen and he hikes his sweatpants up on his hips as he barrels out of the room. “Yongguk,” he bellows, astonished at the deepness of the voice that emerges from his chest. “Don’t you dare.” He’ll be damned if his roommate gets a grope of his borrowed junk.
He barges into Yongguk’s room, and seeing him laying in bed, in Himchan’s body, makes Himchan feel like the world is shifting under his feet. He’s not supposed to see himself this way. “Don’t touch!” he says, and he points a finger at Yongguk. “That is not yours.”
Yongguk blinks back at Himchan with Himchan’s face, rubbing a brisk hand through Himchan’s dark hair. “Don’t touch what?” he asks blearily. “What is going on?” As the sleep seeps out of his expression, Yongguk narrows his eyes. “Why are you…me.”
Himchan chooses to ignore his first question. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I kind of like it. It’s like working out, but without all the effort.” He flexes.
Scowling, Yongguk climbs out of bed. It’s incredibly disconcerting to see that expression from this side. He yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “Yeah, lucky you,” he says. He glances down, suddenly, eyes curious, and pulls at the waistband of Himchan’s pajamas.
Himchan slaps his hand away. “Don’t touch,” he snaps. Yongguk looks up at him. The same bewilderment that Himchan’s been feeling is written all over his face. He examines Himchan’s face, and Himchan can’t take the weirdness of this whole thing, so he looks away. “That’s not yours.”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” Yongguk points out.
When Himchan flushes, he notices his ears heat up. Even that’s different. “Not the point.”
Problem is, even as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, the feeling doesn’t fade. His skin doesn’t quite seem to fit right, and when he yawns and brings his fingers up to cover his mouth, the shape of his lips is distinctly unfamiliar. That wakes him up in a hurry. He climbs out of bed, tripping over his blankets, and stands in front of the mirror.
That was not what he’d been expecting. Yongguk’s face stares back at him from his reflection, it’s Yongguk’s wide mouth that drops open, his eyes that stretch big with astonishment, his shock of ugly bleached blond hair. He pulls at it. It’s just as fried as it looks.
Himchan takes a few seconds to categorize the differences between them. Yongguk’s slimmer, more muscled. It’s kind of neat to watch the way his muscles shift under his skin. In his reflection his eyes follow the line of Yongguk’s shoulders, down his chest to his narrow waist, and then -
Himchan’s eyes widen and he hikes his sweatpants up on his hips as he barrels out of the room. “Yongguk,” he bellows, astonished at the deepness of the voice that emerges from his chest. “Don’t you dare.” He’ll be damned if his roommate gets a grope of his borrowed junk.
He barges into Yongguk’s room, and seeing him laying in bed, in Himchan’s body, makes Himchan feel like the world is shifting under his feet. He’s not supposed to see himself this way. “Don’t touch!” he says, and he points a finger at Yongguk. “That is not yours.”
Yongguk blinks back at Himchan with Himchan’s face, rubbing a brisk hand through Himchan’s dark hair. “Don’t touch what?” he asks blearily. “What is going on?” As the sleep seeps out of his expression, Yongguk narrows his eyes. “Why are you…me.”
Himchan chooses to ignore his first question. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I kind of like it. It’s like working out, but without all the effort.” He flexes.
Scowling, Yongguk climbs out of bed. It’s incredibly disconcerting to see that expression from this side. He yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “Yeah, lucky you,” he says. He glances down, suddenly, eyes curious, and pulls at the waistband of Himchan’s pajamas.
Himchan slaps his hand away. “Don’t touch,” he snaps. Yongguk looks up at him. The same bewilderment that Himchan’s been feeling is written all over his face. He examines Himchan’s face, and Himchan can’t take the weirdness of this whole thing, so he looks away. “That’s not yours.”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” Yongguk points out.
When Himchan flushes, he notices his ears heat up. Even that’s different. “Not the point.”
sehun/tao, pg, 865 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'setao, forced to share a bed'.
Joonmyun looks horrified at the very thought. “You can’t go back to the hotel now. It’s way too late for you to be out on your own.”
Not that Zitao really wants to head back, anyway. He hates hotels enough as is, and now they have to stay in one while they’re at home in Korea, too? They said they’d repair the busted pipe in a couple of days, but that was a couple days too many stuck in yet another hotel room. It must be too much to ask to be able to sleep in a real bed for a few days.
“It’s okay, hyung,” Zitao says. And it is, really. He’ll be a little grumpy in the morning when Yifan nudges him awake, but he’s used to the lumpy mattresses and secondhand blankets. “It’s only a few blocks away.” He shifts on the couch, his thigh brushing up against Sehun’s. Sehun glances over at him, the corner of his mouth pulling up.
“You could crash with us?” Sehun suggests suddenly. When Zitao and Joonmyun turn to look at him, his expression is carefully schooled nonchalance. “I mean, in our room. The couch isn’t really comfortable. You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Joonmyun’s gaze travels slowly between Zitao and Sehun, and he smiles knowingly. “Well, isn’t that nice of you?” Zitao has never seen such a devious look on Joonmyun’s face, and the implication behind it makes Zitao skin warm. He does his best to pretend he’s unaffected. “If Sehun’s offering, I suppose you’ll have to stay.”
The grin that breaks out on Sehun’s face is instant and genuine, and Zitao loves it. He likes the way that his whole face transforms, his eyes crinkling up with pleasure. “Thanks, hyung,” Sehun says, and Joonmyun raises his eyebrows at the honorific, exchanging a look with Zitao. Sehun must be really grateful if he’s remembering to be respectful. Sehun climbs to his feet and grabs Zitao’s wrist. “Cmon,” he says. “Let’s go find blankets.”
The blankets are easy to find. The pillow? Not so much. They hunt around the dorm for ten minutes before they end up sneaking into Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s room. Sehun drags the pillow out from under Baekhyun’s head and Baekhyun immediately lunges up, groggy and ready for battle. His rage softens when he sees Zitao standing in the doorway, hands wrapped around Sehun’s bicep. “I’ll let it slide this time,” he says menacingly, pointing a finger at them. “But next time, it’s war.” From the next bed, Chanyeol laughs sleepily and turns over.
“Thanks, hyung,” Zitao says sweetly, and Baekhyun settles back into bed.
Sehun drags Zitao out of their room a bit hastily, and he won’t meet Zitao’s eyes. Zitao could swear he sees Sehun flushing, and he clutches the pillow tighter to his chest, grinning to himself.
Joonmyun’s already in bed when they come in, and he allows them a few minutes to gather Sehun’s makeshift bed together before turning off the light. Sehun murmurs a quick goodnight, and then Zitao listens to him shift around, getting himself comfortable.
It’s probably not fair that Zitao has the bed tonight, he thinks. After all, it’s K that has an early schedule tomorrow. He’s comfortable, though. Sehun’s bed is cozy, and it kind of smells like him. That should be weird, but Zitao is determined not to care about that.
In the dark of the room, he can see the silhouette of Sehun’s broad shoulders, rising and falling with his breathing. He wonders if Joonmyun is already asleep, and soft snores from the other bed answer his question. “Sehun,” he murmurs. “Are you awake?”
The pause that follows his words is long enough that Zitao almost turns over and settles in. “Yeah.”
Zitao takes a deep breath. “You don’t need to sleep on the floor.” He hopes he doesn’t have to elaborate.
He doesn’t. There’s the quiet shift of blankets and then a dark shape hovers right in front of Zitao’s face. “Are you sure?” Sehun asks, so quickly that it takes Zitao a few seconds to decipher what he’d said. His breath gusts warm across his face.
“Yes,” Zitao agrees, and then Sehun is scrambling into bed with him.
It’s not an easy fit. These single beds were never meant for more than one skinny trainee at a time, and Zitao’s butt is hanging off the side. It’s worth it, though, when Sehun hesitantly pushes his face into Zitao’s throat, curling his arms around Zitao’s chest. Zitao’s glad for the dark, because it covers the way he’s flushing. It doesn’t cover the way his heart races.
He’s aware, somewhere at the back of his head, that they’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours, overheated and uncomfortable, since both of them are so naturally warm. What’s more important to Zitao right now is the way that he can feel Sehun’s heartbeat through his thin shirt and how he lets Zitao lace their fingers together.
Somehow, he thinks he’ll probably get a pretty good night’s sleep tonight.
Not that Zitao really wants to head back, anyway. He hates hotels enough as is, and now they have to stay in one while they’re at home in Korea, too? They said they’d repair the busted pipe in a couple of days, but that was a couple days too many stuck in yet another hotel room. It must be too much to ask to be able to sleep in a real bed for a few days.
“It’s okay, hyung,” Zitao says. And it is, really. He’ll be a little grumpy in the morning when Yifan nudges him awake, but he’s used to the lumpy mattresses and secondhand blankets. “It’s only a few blocks away.” He shifts on the couch, his thigh brushing up against Sehun’s. Sehun glances over at him, the corner of his mouth pulling up.
“You could crash with us?” Sehun suggests suddenly. When Zitao and Joonmyun turn to look at him, his expression is carefully schooled nonchalance. “I mean, in our room. The couch isn’t really comfortable. You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Joonmyun’s gaze travels slowly between Zitao and Sehun, and he smiles knowingly. “Well, isn’t that nice of you?” Zitao has never seen such a devious look on Joonmyun’s face, and the implication behind it makes Zitao skin warm. He does his best to pretend he’s unaffected. “If Sehun’s offering, I suppose you’ll have to stay.”
The grin that breaks out on Sehun’s face is instant and genuine, and Zitao loves it. He likes the way that his whole face transforms, his eyes crinkling up with pleasure. “Thanks, hyung,” Sehun says, and Joonmyun raises his eyebrows at the honorific, exchanging a look with Zitao. Sehun must be really grateful if he’s remembering to be respectful. Sehun climbs to his feet and grabs Zitao’s wrist. “Cmon,” he says. “Let’s go find blankets.”
The blankets are easy to find. The pillow? Not so much. They hunt around the dorm for ten minutes before they end up sneaking into Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s room. Sehun drags the pillow out from under Baekhyun’s head and Baekhyun immediately lunges up, groggy and ready for battle. His rage softens when he sees Zitao standing in the doorway, hands wrapped around Sehun’s bicep. “I’ll let it slide this time,” he says menacingly, pointing a finger at them. “But next time, it’s war.” From the next bed, Chanyeol laughs sleepily and turns over.
“Thanks, hyung,” Zitao says sweetly, and Baekhyun settles back into bed.
Sehun drags Zitao out of their room a bit hastily, and he won’t meet Zitao’s eyes. Zitao could swear he sees Sehun flushing, and he clutches the pillow tighter to his chest, grinning to himself.
Joonmyun’s already in bed when they come in, and he allows them a few minutes to gather Sehun’s makeshift bed together before turning off the light. Sehun murmurs a quick goodnight, and then Zitao listens to him shift around, getting himself comfortable.
It’s probably not fair that Zitao has the bed tonight, he thinks. After all, it’s K that has an early schedule tomorrow. He’s comfortable, though. Sehun’s bed is cozy, and it kind of smells like him. That should be weird, but Zitao is determined not to care about that.
In the dark of the room, he can see the silhouette of Sehun’s broad shoulders, rising and falling with his breathing. He wonders if Joonmyun is already asleep, and soft snores from the other bed answer his question. “Sehun,” he murmurs. “Are you awake?”
The pause that follows his words is long enough that Zitao almost turns over and settles in. “Yeah.”
Zitao takes a deep breath. “You don’t need to sleep on the floor.” He hopes he doesn’t have to elaborate.
He doesn’t. There’s the quiet shift of blankets and then a dark shape hovers right in front of Zitao’s face. “Are you sure?” Sehun asks, so quickly that it takes Zitao a few seconds to decipher what he’d said. His breath gusts warm across his face.
“Yes,” Zitao agrees, and then Sehun is scrambling into bed with him.
It’s not an easy fit. These single beds were never meant for more than one skinny trainee at a time, and Zitao’s butt is hanging off the side. It’s worth it, though, when Sehun hesitantly pushes his face into Zitao’s throat, curling his arms around Zitao’s chest. Zitao’s glad for the dark, because it covers the way he’s flushing. It doesn’t cover the way his heart races.
He’s aware, somewhere at the back of his head, that they’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours, overheated and uncomfortable, since both of them are so naturally warm. What’s more important to Zitao right now is the way that he can feel Sehun’s heartbeat through his thin shirt and how he lets Zitao lace their fingers together.
Somehow, he thinks he’ll probably get a pretty good night’s sleep tonight.
kris/kai, pg, 1200 words
originally posted here. prompt was 'krai, forced to share a bed'.
“I’m sorry, what?” Yifan asks. His hands are still full of fan gifts, they’ve been up since five, and his shoulders and neck ache with travel exhaustion. He’s so ready to be in bed right now.
“There’s been a mixup with the booking,” EXO-M’s manager tells him. He sounds apologetic. “One of the rooms only has one bed.”
Yifan can tell where this is going. Further down the lobby, the elevator pings as it opens and Yixing waggles his fingers at him as he and Lu Han duck inside, laughing. “And we got the short end of the stick?” Yifan looks sidelong at Jongin next to him.
Jongin yawns and scrubs at his eyes with his hands, looking every bit as young as he is. His overgrown bangs hang in his face and he wavers a little on his feet. “Sorry, hyung,” Jongin mumbles. It’s his fault, after all, that Yifan had stayed behind. It’s always been easy for Jongin to fall asleep in the van, and between all the practicing he’s been doing lately and the long day of interviews and filming, he was out like a light as soon as the van door closed. It’d fallen to Yifan to shake Jongin awake and coax him inside, and it hadn’t been easy.
“Great,” Yifan grimaces. In his pocket, his phone vibrates, but he doesn’t bother to check it. He knows that it’s probably just Yixing, rubbing it in. “It’s at least a double, right?” His manager nods. Well, Yifan thinks. Small miracles. He supposes he’s slept in less comfortable situations. He’s too tired right now to be anything other than a little disappointed anyway.
Jongin exhales through his nose, his bottom lip sticking out as he whines a little in the back of his throat. Without thinking, Yifan reaches out to press his hand to Jongin’s back and Jongin leans instinctively into the touch. “Great,” Yifan says again, quieter this time.
“We’ll make it up to you,” his manager says, and Yifan nods. Sure. Sure.
-
When they reach their room, Jongin immediately flops down on the single bed, sprawling out across most of it. Well, Yifan knew that being leader would mean sacrifices. He stares down at Jongin as he squirms to get comfortable. Jongin is a terror to room with. He hogs the covers, sprawls out like an octopus, is impossible to wake, and has the body heat of a furnace. Technically, there is room for the both of them in bed, but Yifan is wondering if sleeping on the floor might not end better.
“Aren’t you going to shower?” Yifan asks as he drops his suitcase and massages his neck with one big hand. Jongin just hums and turns his face away. “Or at least take off your jeans?”
There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Jongin starts wiggling out of his pants, still facedown on the bed. Yifan snorts. “You shower first, hyung,” Jongin mumbles.
Yifan doesn’t have to be asked twice. By the time he gathers his things together for a shower, Jongin has managed to push his jeans down to his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to be trying too hard. By the time he’s out again, painstaking skincare regime complete, Jongin still has his face burrowed into a pillow. Yifan supposes he should congratulate Jongin for managing to get his pants down to his ankles.
He likes to pretend he’s the stern leader, but Yifan doesn’t have the heart to dislodge Jongin in order to make room for him on the bed. The shower has relaxed him, erasing the dull stiffness in his shoulders from traveling most of the day away and he’s more than ready to go to sleep.
Jongin shifts in his sleep, pulling the pillow towards his chest, his mouth hanging open. Yifan knows he’s been pushing himself really hard lately, and the late nights seem to be adding up. Yifan pulls off Jongin’s sneakers and jeans and lays them aside, but doesn’t bother to cover him with a sheet. Jongin’s always too warm, even with the hotel room air-conditioning on overdrive.
Sighing to himself, Yifan settles in for a long night of what will probably be an uncomfortable night on the floor. At least, he supposes, he’s tired enough to pass out without much effort. He gently pushes Jongin off one of the pillows and grabs a couple of spare blankets out of the closet, spreading them out on the floor.
He’s about to lay down when Jongin rolls over peering at him over the edge of the bed. “Hyung?” He pushes his bangs out of his eyes, his voice rough with sleep. “What are you doing down there?” He looks so genuinely baffled.
“Sleeping,” Yifan says dryly. “What do you think?”
“Dumb,” Jongin yawns. He stretches out one hand. “You’ll feel crappy in the morning. C’mon.” He doesn’t wait for Yifan to respond, just squirms his way over to the other end of the bed again.
Yifan isn’t one to play the martyr, not when it means choosing to sleep on the floor instead of a bed. He grabs his pillow and climbs up under the covers, kicking aside the duvet and settling for just the sheet. He turns to look at the glaring red light of the alarm clock next to the bed and grimaces. It’s already far later than he’d been hoping to sleep. “I’m turning off the light,” Yifan announces.
Jongin doesn’t bother to answer, just shifts his shoulder and makes a little noise. Yifan takes it as an okay, and flicks the light off.
As soon as he settles back to sleep and his eyes slide shut, there’s a flurry of movement next to him. Warm arms snake across his chest and hot breath gusts across his collarbones as Jongin shifts to rest his head on Yifan’s shoulder. Surprised, Yifan turns towards him, and gets a mouthful of hair for his trouble. “Jesus, what - “
“Shut up,” Jongin tells him. “‘m snuggling. It’ll help me sleep.” It’s an unnecessary lie. Jongin could sleep anywhere he wanted. When Yifan doesn’t say anything, Jongin speaks again. The sleepy softness to his voice is gone, replaced by hesitation. “Please, hyung?”
Yifan slides his hand to curl around Jongin’s ribs and noses into his hair. “Okay,” he says, even though it’s a bad idea. Jongin radiates heat and neither of them are easy to wake, and Yifan would rather not deal with the unpleasantness of explaining this in the morning. Thing is, he’s always had a soft spot when it came to Jongin, especially when he’s sleepy like this. “Just tonight.”
“Just tonight,” Jongin agrees, and Yifan can feel him relax, his body weight sinking down against Yifan’s chest.
As Yifan’s drifting off to sleep, he could swear he feels the brush of Jongin’s lips against his throat and he smiles to himself in the dark.
“There’s been a mixup with the booking,” EXO-M’s manager tells him. He sounds apologetic. “One of the rooms only has one bed.”
Yifan can tell where this is going. Further down the lobby, the elevator pings as it opens and Yixing waggles his fingers at him as he and Lu Han duck inside, laughing. “And we got the short end of the stick?” Yifan looks sidelong at Jongin next to him.
Jongin yawns and scrubs at his eyes with his hands, looking every bit as young as he is. His overgrown bangs hang in his face and he wavers a little on his feet. “Sorry, hyung,” Jongin mumbles. It’s his fault, after all, that Yifan had stayed behind. It’s always been easy for Jongin to fall asleep in the van, and between all the practicing he’s been doing lately and the long day of interviews and filming, he was out like a light as soon as the van door closed. It’d fallen to Yifan to shake Jongin awake and coax him inside, and it hadn’t been easy.
“Great,” Yifan grimaces. In his pocket, his phone vibrates, but he doesn’t bother to check it. He knows that it’s probably just Yixing, rubbing it in. “It’s at least a double, right?” His manager nods. Well, Yifan thinks. Small miracles. He supposes he’s slept in less comfortable situations. He’s too tired right now to be anything other than a little disappointed anyway.
Jongin exhales through his nose, his bottom lip sticking out as he whines a little in the back of his throat. Without thinking, Yifan reaches out to press his hand to Jongin’s back and Jongin leans instinctively into the touch. “Great,” Yifan says again, quieter this time.
“We’ll make it up to you,” his manager says, and Yifan nods. Sure. Sure.
-
When they reach their room, Jongin immediately flops down on the single bed, sprawling out across most of it. Well, Yifan knew that being leader would mean sacrifices. He stares down at Jongin as he squirms to get comfortable. Jongin is a terror to room with. He hogs the covers, sprawls out like an octopus, is impossible to wake, and has the body heat of a furnace. Technically, there is room for the both of them in bed, but Yifan is wondering if sleeping on the floor might not end better.
“Aren’t you going to shower?” Yifan asks as he drops his suitcase and massages his neck with one big hand. Jongin just hums and turns his face away. “Or at least take off your jeans?”
There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Jongin starts wiggling out of his pants, still facedown on the bed. Yifan snorts. “You shower first, hyung,” Jongin mumbles.
Yifan doesn’t have to be asked twice. By the time he gathers his things together for a shower, Jongin has managed to push his jeans down to his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to be trying too hard. By the time he’s out again, painstaking skincare regime complete, Jongin still has his face burrowed into a pillow. Yifan supposes he should congratulate Jongin for managing to get his pants down to his ankles.
He likes to pretend he’s the stern leader, but Yifan doesn’t have the heart to dislodge Jongin in order to make room for him on the bed. The shower has relaxed him, erasing the dull stiffness in his shoulders from traveling most of the day away and he’s more than ready to go to sleep.
Jongin shifts in his sleep, pulling the pillow towards his chest, his mouth hanging open. Yifan knows he’s been pushing himself really hard lately, and the late nights seem to be adding up. Yifan pulls off Jongin’s sneakers and jeans and lays them aside, but doesn’t bother to cover him with a sheet. Jongin’s always too warm, even with the hotel room air-conditioning on overdrive.
Sighing to himself, Yifan settles in for a long night of what will probably be an uncomfortable night on the floor. At least, he supposes, he’s tired enough to pass out without much effort. He gently pushes Jongin off one of the pillows and grabs a couple of spare blankets out of the closet, spreading them out on the floor.
He’s about to lay down when Jongin rolls over peering at him over the edge of the bed. “Hyung?” He pushes his bangs out of his eyes, his voice rough with sleep. “What are you doing down there?” He looks so genuinely baffled.
“Sleeping,” Yifan says dryly. “What do you think?”
“Dumb,” Jongin yawns. He stretches out one hand. “You’ll feel crappy in the morning. C’mon.” He doesn’t wait for Yifan to respond, just squirms his way over to the other end of the bed again.
Yifan isn’t one to play the martyr, not when it means choosing to sleep on the floor instead of a bed. He grabs his pillow and climbs up under the covers, kicking aside the duvet and settling for just the sheet. He turns to look at the glaring red light of the alarm clock next to the bed and grimaces. It’s already far later than he’d been hoping to sleep. “I’m turning off the light,” Yifan announces.
Jongin doesn’t bother to answer, just shifts his shoulder and makes a little noise. Yifan takes it as an okay, and flicks the light off.
As soon as he settles back to sleep and his eyes slide shut, there’s a flurry of movement next to him. Warm arms snake across his chest and hot breath gusts across his collarbones as Jongin shifts to rest his head on Yifan’s shoulder. Surprised, Yifan turns towards him, and gets a mouthful of hair for his trouble. “Jesus, what - “
“Shut up,” Jongin tells him. “‘m snuggling. It’ll help me sleep.” It’s an unnecessary lie. Jongin could sleep anywhere he wanted. When Yifan doesn’t say anything, Jongin speaks again. The sleepy softness to his voice is gone, replaced by hesitation. “Please, hyung?”
Yifan slides his hand to curl around Jongin’s ribs and noses into his hair. “Okay,” he says, even though it’s a bad idea. Jongin radiates heat and neither of them are easy to wake, and Yifan would rather not deal with the unpleasantness of explaining this in the morning. Thing is, he’s always had a soft spot when it came to Jongin, especially when he’s sleepy like this. “Just tonight.”
“Just tonight,” Jongin agrees, and Yifan can feel him relax, his body weight sinking down against Yifan’s chest.
As Yifan’s drifting off to sleep, he could swear he feels the brush of Jongin’s lips against his throat and he smiles to himself in the dark.
hoya/dongwoo, pg, 780 words
originally posted here
"Jesus Christ," Hoya says as he sticks his head out the door to the dance studio. It's pouring down. He's pretty sure this qualifies as torrential, and he didn't bring an umbrella. Or a real jacket. After spending all day in the studio, he's kind of exhausted, and this isn't helping anything. "Maybe we shouldn't have even bothered to shower." Hoya's place is closest, but it's still a ten minute walk. They'll be drenched before they reach the next block.
Dongwoo presses his hands against Hoya's sides as he leans around him, peering out. "Oh wow," he laughs. "You can't even see across the street." Hoya can't help the fond way the corners of his mouth turn up as he looks at Dongwoo out of the corner of his eyes. Dongwoo's eyes are wide and pleased, and he doesn't even bother to pull his hood up over his head as he slides past Hoya. "I love it when it rains like this."
Hoya's attempt to stop Dongwoo from darting out into the weather is only half-hearted. They have to head home sometime, and it doesn't look like things will let up any time soon anyway. "Dongwoo," he begins, and Dongwoo lets out a shout of laughter, spinning out into the street. He's already getting drenched, the grey fabric of his hoodie turning dark. The rain runs down the planes of his face, plastering his unruly hair to the curve of his skull.
"Don't you love it?" Dongwoo asks him, and he flaps a hand at Hoya, gesturing for him to come out. Hoya hesitates for a second, but then he steps out from under the overhang of the doorway into the downpour.
His sweater is poor defense against rain. Within seconds, he can feel the water seep through his jeans and down his collar, chilling him as it runs down his back. "What's not to love?" Even as he approaches Dongwoo, Dongwoo is dancing away, arms above his head as he pirouettes. He has to say this, though: once you're soaked, you can't get any wetter. Hoya's got nothing to lose. Except maybe his phone.
Dongwoo throws him a look. "Boring," he says mildly. His bag hangs as he grabs a lamp post and swings. "Didn't you ever see that western movie? 'Singing in the Rain'?" He wipes blindly at the water running into his eyes and then does a quick soft shoe. His smile is irrepressible, even as his worn sneakers slip on slick pavement. There's a warm rush of affection in Hoya's chest at the sight.
Dongwoo holds a hand out to him. They've just spent all day in the studio, working on their own routine as well as teaching classes, and still, Dongwoo wants to dance. Hoya snorts but he takes it. Dongwoo's fingers are still warm, despite the cold rain, and his grip is firm. He tugs him forward and Hoya falls into step. Neither of them have ever been good at ballroom, but it's not hard to remember how do the cha-cha.
Their gym bags make it awkward, and every time Dongwoo's hits him, Hoya starts to laugh. He can't keep the rainwater off his face and when Dongwoo swings him, his wet bangs slip into his eyes. "Is this how they did it in the movies, too?" Hoya asks.
Shifting his hand up from Hoya's waist, Dongwoo cups his chin. "Don't be grumpy," he tells Hoya. Hoya flushes a little under the touch, and Dongwoo's wide smile gets a tiny bit wider. He brushes his thumb across Hoya's jaw before letting his hand drop.
"I'm not being grumpy," Hoya protests, and to his surprise, it's almost true. He's completely drenched, wet clothes clinging to him, and he's freezing, but the rain and Dongwoo's inescapable enthusiasm have washed away his irritation.
Dongwoo spins Hoya out and then dips him, beaming down at him. "Good," he says, righting them. His hand stays on Hoya's hip, warming him through two layers of soaking wet fabric. Dongwoo's eyes on him are bright and sly, like he knows something, but he's not telling. "Home now." He tips his head thoughtfully. "Ramen?"
Any kind of hot meal right now sounds divine. "Deal," Hoya says. Dongwoo wraps his arm around Hoya's shoulders and hums tunelessly as they walk the short distance back to Hoya's place.
Their hips bump together every couple of steps, and Dongwoo's fingers have crept under Hoya's collar. Hoya looks at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't decide if the touch is conscious or not. He wonders if it matters, really, and when Dongwoo digs his fingertips in, fingers slick against skin, Hoya smiles.
Dongwoo presses his hands against Hoya's sides as he leans around him, peering out. "Oh wow," he laughs. "You can't even see across the street." Hoya can't help the fond way the corners of his mouth turn up as he looks at Dongwoo out of the corner of his eyes. Dongwoo's eyes are wide and pleased, and he doesn't even bother to pull his hood up over his head as he slides past Hoya. "I love it when it rains like this."
Hoya's attempt to stop Dongwoo from darting out into the weather is only half-hearted. They have to head home sometime, and it doesn't look like things will let up any time soon anyway. "Dongwoo," he begins, and Dongwoo lets out a shout of laughter, spinning out into the street. He's already getting drenched, the grey fabric of his hoodie turning dark. The rain runs down the planes of his face, plastering his unruly hair to the curve of his skull.
"Don't you love it?" Dongwoo asks him, and he flaps a hand at Hoya, gesturing for him to come out. Hoya hesitates for a second, but then he steps out from under the overhang of the doorway into the downpour.
His sweater is poor defense against rain. Within seconds, he can feel the water seep through his jeans and down his collar, chilling him as it runs down his back. "What's not to love?" Even as he approaches Dongwoo, Dongwoo is dancing away, arms above his head as he pirouettes. He has to say this, though: once you're soaked, you can't get any wetter. Hoya's got nothing to lose. Except maybe his phone.
Dongwoo throws him a look. "Boring," he says mildly. His bag hangs as he grabs a lamp post and swings. "Didn't you ever see that western movie? 'Singing in the Rain'?" He wipes blindly at the water running into his eyes and then does a quick soft shoe. His smile is irrepressible, even as his worn sneakers slip on slick pavement. There's a warm rush of affection in Hoya's chest at the sight.
Dongwoo holds a hand out to him. They've just spent all day in the studio, working on their own routine as well as teaching classes, and still, Dongwoo wants to dance. Hoya snorts but he takes it. Dongwoo's fingers are still warm, despite the cold rain, and his grip is firm. He tugs him forward and Hoya falls into step. Neither of them have ever been good at ballroom, but it's not hard to remember how do the cha-cha.
Their gym bags make it awkward, and every time Dongwoo's hits him, Hoya starts to laugh. He can't keep the rainwater off his face and when Dongwoo swings him, his wet bangs slip into his eyes. "Is this how they did it in the movies, too?" Hoya asks.
Shifting his hand up from Hoya's waist, Dongwoo cups his chin. "Don't be grumpy," he tells Hoya. Hoya flushes a little under the touch, and Dongwoo's wide smile gets a tiny bit wider. He brushes his thumb across Hoya's jaw before letting his hand drop.
"I'm not being grumpy," Hoya protests, and to his surprise, it's almost true. He's completely drenched, wet clothes clinging to him, and he's freezing, but the rain and Dongwoo's inescapable enthusiasm have washed away his irritation.
Dongwoo spins Hoya out and then dips him, beaming down at him. "Good," he says, righting them. His hand stays on Hoya's hip, warming him through two layers of soaking wet fabric. Dongwoo's eyes on him are bright and sly, like he knows something, but he's not telling. "Home now." He tips his head thoughtfully. "Ramen?"
Any kind of hot meal right now sounds divine. "Deal," Hoya says. Dongwoo wraps his arm around Hoya's shoulders and hums tunelessly as they walk the short distance back to Hoya's place.
Their hips bump together every couple of steps, and Dongwoo's fingers have crept under Hoya's collar. Hoya looks at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't decide if the touch is conscious or not. He wonders if it matters, really, and when Dongwoo digs his fingertips in, fingers slick against skin, Hoya smiles.
kris/yixing, r, 260 words
originally posted here for trick r treat. i just wanted to record this for posterity.
the best blowjobs, yixing decides, are the kind that aren't expected. at the back of his head, he keeps trying to remember the pot on the stove, but it's more fun to focus on the way that yifan pulls hard on his hair and the choked off little groans he's making. yixing works his tongue hard against the spot under the head of yifan's cock and looks up at him through his lashes. yifan is flushed, gripping the counter with one hand, white-knuckled. "yixing," he gasps. it's probably yixing's favourite sight in the world.
yixing pushes his hand down the front of his pants, lets out a breathy little moan around yifan's dick. he loves having yifan like this, coming apart under his mouth and hands, just for yixing. "yixing," yifan grunts, and when his thigh tenses under yixing's fingers, yixing knows what's coming. he pulls off enough to swallow without choking, letting yifan's hips thrust into his mouth in tiny, jerky movements.
when yifan comes down from his high enough to think again, he wipes a trace of come off the corner of yixing's mouth, smiling affectionately. "i bet you don't need dinner now, huh?" he leers.
yixing's hand in his pants stills entirely, and he sits back on his heels, staring up at yifan. he had to say it, didn't he? "well," yixing sighs, looking from yifan to his fast-wilting dick with dismay. "that ruined it." at least, he supposes, now he can be sure that dinner won't burn.
yixing pushes his hand down the front of his pants, lets out a breathy little moan around yifan's dick. he loves having yifan like this, coming apart under his mouth and hands, just for yixing. "yixing," yifan grunts, and when his thigh tenses under yixing's fingers, yixing knows what's coming. he pulls off enough to swallow without choking, letting yifan's hips thrust into his mouth in tiny, jerky movements.
when yifan comes down from his high enough to think again, he wipes a trace of come off the corner of yixing's mouth, smiling affectionately. "i bet you don't need dinner now, huh?" he leers.
yixing's hand in his pants stills entirely, and he sits back on his heels, staring up at yifan. he had to say it, didn't he? "well," yixing sighs, looking from yifan to his fast-wilting dick with dismay. "that ruined it." at least, he supposes, now he can be sure that dinner won't burn.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Belatedly:
Himchan chooses to ignore his first question. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I kind of like it. It’s like working out, but without all the effort.” He flexes.
lolololol
(Poor himchan, though. ^^;;)
no subject
(in my head, this is college au and they're awk for a day or two and then himchan totally jerks off and bang catches him and is like dude and himchan is totally like well i don't want to stop now and then they hook up and it's totally weird but kinda hot and himchan likes making out with himself and then they wake up in their own bodies and wonder if they should just forget it all happened and himchan awkwardly ignores bang for a while bc he doesn't know how to deal with the fact that the attraction wasn't some weird self-involved delusion and he wants to kiss bang's mouth too and then bang's like look you idiot i wanna hold your hand what do you say and then himchan gets to feel like he's got the upper hand and bang looks at him like he knows that was what it was gonna take to get him to agree and then more making out)
SORRY FOR THE RAMBLING.
no subject
Well, "common knowledge": to those who might be interested in knowing, more like. XD
Heh, I was thinking it would've been pretty disastrous if it were canon!b.a.p and they were in the middle of promotions. orz
no subject
lmao my bff is a huge krai stan and she got me into the pairing so i am well trained in the art of spotting their moments.
it would be SO terrible, because himchan can't rap worth a damn so it'd just be him fumbling through bang's parts while the rest of them (mostly bang) lol at him. tons of terrible stages lmao
no subject
no subject
no subject
Dongwoo grinning and happy is good anytime.
You do know that the WuFan/Jongin bed sharing is just a prequel of something right? It feels so much like just the beginning of something. Of course you know that already.
Sehun/Zirao. That one is new but I can see it.
Oh but the Bang/Him is priceless!
no subject
the kris/kai is just a drabble!! but yes, that was the feeling i was going for
sehun/tao isn't actually a new pairing!! sehun and tao bonded back in training, i think he was one of the first korean members to befriend him!! they've always been pretty close, and both of them being the maknaes probably has something to do with it too. i think they're quite similar in a lot of ways
thank you!!
no subject
also the dongwoo/hoya one is sweet but i can't ship them together i just can't OTL
no subject
thank you!!
no subject
are you gonna write more taohun?
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
also setao krai T^T still so rare thank you very much i love bedtime stories ;3;
i'm surprised i read b/c i rarely read anything under nc-17
BUT IM GLAD I DID ;3; SO FUCKING PRESH THANK YEWWWWW
no subject
no subject
THE KRAI THOUGH I THINK I AM JUST *DED AND GONE* THAT WAS PERFECT the thought of jongin wiggling out of his jeans slowly and surely a couple inches at a time sprawled on the bed like an octopus is kind of perfect wow the kriskai dynamic is perfect (where have I been?!?! I'm only stalking your writing now after finding out you wrote that krisoo fic. ;A; I'm in love)
no subject
thank you!! i have become super fond of this pairing and i like kris looking after sleepy jongin so so much. (also that image kind of killed me) thank you so so much!! i really appreciate it
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
AMUSEMENTLOVE.no subject