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fic advent 2013: day thirteen
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frailspells ♥
kai/chanyeol
pg-13, 900 words
"chankai :3 playfighting and being dumb competitive boys"
frailspells ♥kai/chanyeol
pg-13, 900 words
"chankai :3 playfighting and being dumb competitive boys"
Okay, so Jongin may or may not have started it.
“Gross,” Chanyeol says, wrinkling up his nose. “Dude, get your feet out of my face.”
They’re taking full advantage of having the day off - the minor blessings of not having to actively promote their newest track include occasionally being able to sleep in and now one entire day off of their own. It feels kind of weird, not having somewhere to be at the crack of dawn and Jongin’s legs itch with restlessness, used to too much activity and not enough downtime. Naturally, he’s kicked them up into Chanyeol’s lap while he reads. More comfortable that way. “They’re not in your face,” Jongin says, and he digs a heel into Chanyeol’s thigh for emphasis.
“Close enough,” Chanyeol says. The sweatshirt he’s wearing is more worn than usual, but Jongin likes seeing him without makeup. It gives them common ground. His hair’s a mess too, sticking up all over the place, and Jongin has the urge to rub a hand over it, see if he can get it really staticky and then shock Chanyeol. He’s not sure how it works but he thinks he could do it.
“No,” Jongin says. He raises one foot and wiggles his toes in Chanyeol’s face. “Now they are, though.”
He’s not sure what he was expecting Chanyeol to do, but it probably wasn’t ‘throw him off the couch’. Jongin hits the floor with a thump, groaning when his head bounces off the floor and his knee bangs against the coffee table. “It was just a joke,” he gasps, and then Chanyeol jumps on top of him.
Jongin has a second to wonder if he’ll be able to find the page he was on in his manga before Chanyeol is digging his fingers into his sides and tickling him mercilessly. “I’ll show you a joke,” Chanyeol growls, and Jongin shrieks, trying to push his hands away. He hates that Chanyeol knows all his weak spots, fingertips skating up his ribs to his armpits until Jongin is paralyzed. “Not so funny, huh?” he says.
“Help!” Jongin calls out, even though he’s pretty sure the dorm is empty right now (except for Sehun, who’s never been any help anyway). Chanyeol just tickles him more, his weight settled against Jongin’s waist, holding him down. Not that he’d tell anyone, but Jongin kinda likes the way he’s got him pinned, anyway. It’s pretty nice.
“No help for you,” Chanyeol scowls, but he’s made a fatal mistake - his face is too close to Jongin’s. Jongin takes advantage of this, stretches up to catch Chanyeol’s mouth in a quick kiss. See, Chanyeol knows all of Jongin’s soft spots, knows just how to make him helpless with laughter, but Jongin knows how to make him melt. And melt he does, hands stilling against Jongin’s ribs as he leans into it.
Jongin likes Chanyeol’s mouth, he likes the way that he kisses, eager and a shade too hard. He always presses himself flat against Jongin’s chest, molding himself up against Jongin’s body and sliding one hand into Jongin’s hair. He likes the intimacy of it, and Jongin doesn’t much mind that either, pressing a hand up against Chanyeol’s belly and sighing into his mouth. This is better than the tickling. So much better.
“I don’t want help,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol laughs, his nose brushing up against Jongin’s cheek.
They both let out decidedly unmanly shrieks when Sehun speaks. “Disgusting,” he declares, staring down at them, his lip curling. “Absolutely disgusting.”
Jongin should probably be less pleased with how Chanyeol doesn’t shift his grip from Jongin’s waist, staring defiantly up at Sehun. “No one asked you,” he says. His mouth looks so nice like that, wet and slick and well-kissed. Jongin wants to kiss him again. And again.
Sehun levels his best disdainful look at them. It’s only kind of effective because his hair is sticking up from sleep and there are still creases across his face from his pillow. “I heard shouting, I thought lives were in danger. But no, it’s just the two of you, grossing up our living room.” He narrows his eyes. “We all sit in here.”
“On the floor?” Chanyeol asks, at the same time Jongin says, “we were just kissing, you prick.”
Sehun clicks his tongue. “Gross,” he says again. He points a finger at them. “Get a room already.”
It’s not a bad idea, really. Even with the interruption, Jongin can feel the half hard press of Chanyeol’s cock against his stomach. Sweatpants don’t really cover up much. “We’re in a room,” Chanyeol points out. “This is a room.”
Sehun glares down at them, and then suddenly grins wickedly. “I wonder what Kyungsoo hyung will have to say when he finds out about this,” he says, all nonchalance.
Shit. Chanyeol scrambles off of Jongin and then pulls him up. “You don’t have to do anything drastic,” Jongin whines, but Sehun is already not listening again, waving a hand vaguely in their direction as he heads back to his own room.
“Bed?” Chanyeol asks. He still has his hand around Jongin’s wrist, thumb rubbing against the tendons there.
“Yeah, okay,” Jongin agrees, and he grins. He makes a mental note to be as noisy as humanly possible. Sehun’s such a little shithead.
“Gross,” Chanyeol says, wrinkling up his nose. “Dude, get your feet out of my face.”
They’re taking full advantage of having the day off - the minor blessings of not having to actively promote their newest track include occasionally being able to sleep in and now one entire day off of their own. It feels kind of weird, not having somewhere to be at the crack of dawn and Jongin’s legs itch with restlessness, used to too much activity and not enough downtime. Naturally, he’s kicked them up into Chanyeol’s lap while he reads. More comfortable that way. “They’re not in your face,” Jongin says, and he digs a heel into Chanyeol’s thigh for emphasis.
“Close enough,” Chanyeol says. The sweatshirt he’s wearing is more worn than usual, but Jongin likes seeing him without makeup. It gives them common ground. His hair’s a mess too, sticking up all over the place, and Jongin has the urge to rub a hand over it, see if he can get it really staticky and then shock Chanyeol. He’s not sure how it works but he thinks he could do it.
“No,” Jongin says. He raises one foot and wiggles his toes in Chanyeol’s face. “Now they are, though.”
He’s not sure what he was expecting Chanyeol to do, but it probably wasn’t ‘throw him off the couch’. Jongin hits the floor with a thump, groaning when his head bounces off the floor and his knee bangs against the coffee table. “It was just a joke,” he gasps, and then Chanyeol jumps on top of him.
Jongin has a second to wonder if he’ll be able to find the page he was on in his manga before Chanyeol is digging his fingers into his sides and tickling him mercilessly. “I’ll show you a joke,” Chanyeol growls, and Jongin shrieks, trying to push his hands away. He hates that Chanyeol knows all his weak spots, fingertips skating up his ribs to his armpits until Jongin is paralyzed. “Not so funny, huh?” he says.
“Help!” Jongin calls out, even though he’s pretty sure the dorm is empty right now (except for Sehun, who’s never been any help anyway). Chanyeol just tickles him more, his weight settled against Jongin’s waist, holding him down. Not that he’d tell anyone, but Jongin kinda likes the way he’s got him pinned, anyway. It’s pretty nice.
“No help for you,” Chanyeol scowls, but he’s made a fatal mistake - his face is too close to Jongin’s. Jongin takes advantage of this, stretches up to catch Chanyeol’s mouth in a quick kiss. See, Chanyeol knows all of Jongin’s soft spots, knows just how to make him helpless with laughter, but Jongin knows how to make him melt. And melt he does, hands stilling against Jongin’s ribs as he leans into it.
Jongin likes Chanyeol’s mouth, he likes the way that he kisses, eager and a shade too hard. He always presses himself flat against Jongin’s chest, molding himself up against Jongin’s body and sliding one hand into Jongin’s hair. He likes the intimacy of it, and Jongin doesn’t much mind that either, pressing a hand up against Chanyeol’s belly and sighing into his mouth. This is better than the tickling. So much better.
“I don’t want help,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol laughs, his nose brushing up against Jongin’s cheek.
They both let out decidedly unmanly shrieks when Sehun speaks. “Disgusting,” he declares, staring down at them, his lip curling. “Absolutely disgusting.”
Jongin should probably be less pleased with how Chanyeol doesn’t shift his grip from Jongin’s waist, staring defiantly up at Sehun. “No one asked you,” he says. His mouth looks so nice like that, wet and slick and well-kissed. Jongin wants to kiss him again. And again.
Sehun levels his best disdainful look at them. It’s only kind of effective because his hair is sticking up from sleep and there are still creases across his face from his pillow. “I heard shouting, I thought lives were in danger. But no, it’s just the two of you, grossing up our living room.” He narrows his eyes. “We all sit in here.”
“On the floor?” Chanyeol asks, at the same time Jongin says, “we were just kissing, you prick.”
Sehun clicks his tongue. “Gross,” he says again. He points a finger at them. “Get a room already.”
It’s not a bad idea, really. Even with the interruption, Jongin can feel the half hard press of Chanyeol’s cock against his stomach. Sweatpants don’t really cover up much. “We’re in a room,” Chanyeol points out. “This is a room.”
Sehun glares down at them, and then suddenly grins wickedly. “I wonder what Kyungsoo hyung will have to say when he finds out about this,” he says, all nonchalance.
Shit. Chanyeol scrambles off of Jongin and then pulls him up. “You don’t have to do anything drastic,” Jongin whines, but Sehun is already not listening again, waving a hand vaguely in their direction as he heads back to his own room.
“Bed?” Chanyeol asks. He still has his hand around Jongin’s wrist, thumb rubbing against the tendons there.
“Yeah, okay,” Jongin agrees, and he grins. He makes a mental note to be as noisy as humanly possible. Sehun’s such a little shithead.
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