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kokoronashithe romantic ballad collection vol. 1
fandom exo
pairing kaisoo
style one-shot
length 2773
kim jongin really hates generic b-list ballad singer do kyungsoo and his albums with generic titles like the ballad collection volume one and the covers where the round eyed dopey smiled singer leans on a piano or a table. written cause this image of kyungsoo looks like a typical b-list ballad singer album cover.
"I hate this song."
Kim Jongin loudly announced with a groan as a generic ballad with a forgettable melody and horribly written lyrics was heard through the walls that separated his room from his sister's. He announced it to his best friend, Sehun, technically, even though Sehun should already know he hated this song and even though he said it loud enough for his sister to hear through the paper-thin walls on purpose.
"Shut the fuck up Jongin!" She quickly yelled back from her room.
Sehun rolled his eyes. "I have never seen two people in the same house care this much for this generic B-list singer. What's his name again?"
"Do fucking Kyungsoo," Jongin muttered angrily. "And I wouldn't care about him at all if she stop blasting his music!"
Jongin said the last part of his sentence loudly, which earned him another shut the fuck up from his sister.
"You know," Sehun said, acting all thoughtful. Jongin instantly dreaded what his best friend was about say next. "I doubt any of this anger stems from shitty music."
Yep, Jongin's dread was not unfounded.
Sehun had been taking a psychology module this semester, despite being an applied music major, and had been trying to psychoanalyse everything from Jongin's hatred for socks to Jongin's preference for fried chicken over beef.
"No Sehun, this has to do with shit music," Jongin murmured.
Sehun continued anyway, although Jongin already knew his conclusion. It was always the same after all: "You need to get laid."
Even without a semester of psychology Jongin could come up with better analysis than that. He could be stressed out over maintaining his grades to keep his dance scholarship. He could be tired after hours of rehearsal for the upcoming modern dance performance he was hired to do.
He could also be sick of the voice of his sister's favourite B-list ballad singer.
But Sehun would equate any of those problems to Jongin needing to get laid anyway.
Jongin opted to say nothing and sigh.
Sehun smirked. "So let's go."
"Where to?"
Sehun shrugged. "Somewhere without Do fucking Kyungsoo's The Romance Collection Volume One playing."
Unfortunately, Jongin had to agree that sounded like a good idea.
It wasn’t as if Do Kyungsoo wanted to sing generic ballad songs for a generic ballad album with a generic ballad album cover of him smiling as he leaned on either a piano or a table.
Like most singers, Do Kyungsoo wanted to produce a hit.
But there are too many people who wanted to produce a hit and too little who made it. Kyungsoo was just grateful that there was a market for generic ballads and he could make his rent singing.
Still, he needed a drink after recording a song for his next album: Do Kyungsoo, The Birthday Collection Volume II, a ten-track cover albums of classic birthday songs done ballad styled.
Kyungsoo didn’t even know there was more than one classic birthday song. Nevermind two albums worth of it.
He sighed to himself in the middle of the street before pulling up his smartphone and asked it to lead him to the nearest bar.
“When I said you can pick any bar, I was thinking somewhere we can get laid,” Sehun complained. “Not a sport bar. And definitely not The Red Stag. Most you’d get here is an argument about Chelsea. Again.”
“You said any bar,” Jongin said. “And I was fighting a good battle.”
The Red Stag was their regular hang-out. A sports bar located fifteen minutes walk away from the flat Jongin shared with his sister. The owner, Lu Han, was an upperclassman at the arts university both of them attended and bought the bar when he was still studying, hiring a handsome young barkeeper by the name of Minseok to run it for him.
Except for the sports channel. He picked most of those and most of what he chose was football.
“The usual Jongin?” Minseok said with a smile. Jongin nodded.
“Seriously? Sports bar, The Red Stag and your usual?” Sehun scoffed. “You’re really not trying.”
Jongin shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to get laid, not me. “
“I want to get you laid,” Sehun sighed. “How long has it been Jonginnie, really?”
“I’m doing fine without that.” Jongin said. He turned to take his drink from the bar. “Thanks Minseok.”
“The usual for you too Sehun?”
Sehun sighed. “Might as well.”
“You got your usual too,” Jongin pointed out.
“At least mine is alcoholic,” Sehun rolled his eyes.
The Red Stag was the name of the bar Kyungsoo found himself in. A rather inconspicuous sports bar with a classic English-styled name and emblem that was showing a football match of two English football teams he had never heard of. He was never a huge fan of football, or sports bars for that matter, but it was the closest from the rundown studio Kyungsoo was recording at earlier.
It was relatively empty on a weekday and the relatively unknown football team. A few people, presumably fans wore the same coloured jerseys as the athletes on the screen they had their eyes glued to. The rest seemed to be students, casually dressed and in their early twenties, which was expected considering the bar’s location near a university. Kyungsoo scanned through all of them with disinterest until his eyes landed on a figure standing by the bar.
The man who caught his attention was taller than he was just his type, pretty with dyed dark brown hair and copper skin. He seemed to be more occupied with talking to the barkeeper and his friend than at watching the match.
Kyungsoo still wanted his drink, but now he wanted this man just as much.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Kyungsoo told the barkeeper as he approached, leaning against the counter next to the man.
The barkeeper raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Hey man,” the friend the man was talking to called out to him. “You wouldn’t want what he’s having.”
“I can handle it,” Kyungsoo said.
“Oh, that’s not my problem with it,” the barkeeper said. Kyungsoo noticed the other two at the counter trying to hold back laughter. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll take the chance.,” Kyungsoo said, not wanting to step back now. His alcohol tolerance was always pretty high anyway and he hadn’t drank anything that floored him.
“If you say so,” the bartender smiled. “Lemonade on rocks.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes widened as he turned to the sounds of laughter beside him.
“My usual,” the pretty man smiled apologetically, raising his glass up to Kyungsoo. God, Kyungsoo thought, even his voice was pretty.
“Lemonade on rocks in a bar?”
“He’s weak,” the friend said.
“Shut up,” the man hit his friend lightly on the shoulder. “Alcohol is expensive.”
“You’re,” Kyungsoo started, but had to pause to figure out the exact word he could use to express what he thought. “Interesting.”
“That’s another word for weird, isn’t it?” the man said. “Instead of interesting, I can just be Jongin to you.”
“Kyungsoo.”
“Mmm, I guess it’s a common name,” Jongin muttered, sounding a little disappointed. By the way his friend snorted, Kyungsoo guessed that he might have shared the name with an ex of Jongin’s or something similar to that.
In any case, Jongin continue to talk, and as Kyungsoo’s drink arrived, Jongin laughed.
Even his laugh was pretty, Kyungsoo decided.
But that might be the lemonade on rocks talking.
“You’re drinking,” Sehun said.
Sehun had moved aside relatively early into Jongin’s conversation, whispering Jongin that he felt ignored between Jongin and his new suitor. It seemed like only minutes later that Sehun took Jongin by the arm and pulled him to the side, but when Sehun did, Jongin realised he had finished his lemonade and the glass of vodka that Kyungsoo bought for him.
“I was drinking from the start,” Jongin replied, although his words were a little slurred.
“You’re drinking alcohol,” Sehun crinkled his nose. “Vodka, too. God Jongin, you’re weak to alcohol.”
“I am not.”
“You are too. You’re fucking drunk.”
Jongin felt a little offended at that. He was a little tipsy, maybe, but he surely wasn’t drunk. For one he could still stand, although he stumbled a little. And he definitely was only holding on to Sehun because he felt like it.
But before he could say anything to Sehun about this he caught a glimpse of Kyungsoo leaning on the counter.
And then it struck him.
He recognised that pose. He recognised it from this angle, framed this way.
He had seen this on way too many standard cheaply-made CD covers.
“Fucking hell,” he swore.
“Yeah fucking hell you’re drunk--”
“No fuck that,” he let go of Sehun and stumbled over a little. He felt himself sway from side to side as he approached the bar, letting his whole weight fall over on the counter. He pointed at Kyungsoo. “You-- You’re fucking Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo gave him a confused look. “Yes, I told you that.”
“Right, you did,” Jongin said, not being sure exactly why he said that. “That’s not what I mean. You’re the singer. Do fucking Kyungsoo.”
Jongin watched as Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. “So you know me?”
“Yeah,” Jongin nodded repeatedly. “I fucking hate you, man.”
Well, that was new.
Kyungsoo was more than used to people not knowing who he was. More than used than people who was slightly familiar with who he was. A little used to fans, rare as they were and most of them in their late forties.
But he wasn’t used to getting, well, how would you even describe this? An anti?
“What do you mean you fucking hate me?”
“I fucking hate you,” Jongin went on, although he didn’t even seem steady on his feet. “You and your generic ballads and,” he pushed Kyungsoo lightly, although Kyungsoo thought part of that might be how drunk he was then. “And your generic covers of you leaning against a piano or a table or some shit.”
Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how to react.
The night was going so well too.
“Uh,” he made a sound, although he wasn’t sure if he even meant to make a word.
“And I,” Jonging stepped closer. Stumbled closer. He rested his arms on Kyungsoo then. “Really hate how you’re actually really attractive when you’re not posing for The Romance Collection Volume I or II or III or whatever.”
Before Kyungsoo could process what was happening, Jongin had grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, it was drunkenly sloppy and passionate, messy and hot.
The night was going so well, still.
Perhaps.
Jongin let Kyungsoo into his flat. Or he let Kyungsoo use his keys to let him in, he didn’t really understand what was going on by then anyway, not between the kisses and the heat of their bodies pressed together in the stumble between the bar and his place.
“Wait,” Kyungsoo paused. “Wait, are you sure?”
“Sure,” Jongin said before stealing another kiss.
“You’re drunk,” Kyungsoo said.
“I know enough,” Jongin tugged Kyungsoo towards his bedroom.
Jongin’s bedroom was a single-bed room that was almost not a bedroom at all from its size. Still, a single bed fitted two just fine as they clung to each other and felt each other up. Jongin led Kyungsoo to their bed and Kyungsoo found himself pushing him down with his weight. His kisses moved from Jongin’s lips to his jawlines and down his neck as he took Jongin’s shirt off and Jongin helped him with his and tossed it to the side.
“You’re very pretty like this,” Kyungsoo said. And Jongin believed him. “You were pretty to start with, but.” And Jongin still believed him.
“Uhm, lube, condom,” Jongin raked his mind and remembered that Sehun put a small tube of lube and condom in his pocket earlier that night ‘just in case’. Jongin felt himself somewhat grateful towards his best friend at that point. “Pocket. In one of them, I forgot which.”
“You have like, four, six,” Kyungsoo said. He went through all of them and pulled them out from the first one he went through anyway.
“I don’t like bags,” Jongin said.
“I’ll remember that for the morning,” Kyungsoo replied as he leaned in to kiss Jongin again.
“You do that,” Jongin was impatient and wrestled Kyungsoo down, undressing his partner and taking off his boxers, taking Kyungsoo’s half-erect cock into his mouth. He watched Kyungsoo’s reactions from the corner of his eye, listening to Kyungsoo’s moans.
It sounded nicer than he remembered his sister looping through her standard ballad collections.
“Fuck, Jongin,” Kyungsoo muttered, he ran his fingers through Jongin’s hair, tugging on it gently. “Fuck.”
Kyungsoo came close before pulling Jongin back, just about keeping in balance on the single bed as he climbed back on top of Jongin. He showed the lube that was still in his hand. “Can I?”
“I told you where to find it for a reason,” Jongin said.
Kyungsoo kissed Jongin again. “You’re a bit of an asshole.”
Jongin leaned in to return the gesture. “Sure, whatever you want to think.”
He rolled his eyes and lubed up his fingers and put a digit inside Jongin, watching for Jongin’s reactions - Jongin was biting his lower lip and wincing a little, but by the time the second finger entered him, he began to adjust to it.
“You’re slow,” Jongin complained, although he was leisurely about his complaint. Kyungsoo’s pace was perfect to adjust to, and by the third and fourth he was used to it. Still, Kyungsoo watched as Jongin was flushed red and his voice shook in a different way from when he slurred.
“You’re tight,” Kyungsoo muttered back.
Jongin smirked. “Got you to say the cliche.”
Kyungsoo kissed Jongin to shut him out as he drew his fingers out of Jongin. “Isn’t it because you’re a cliche?”
“Maybe, but I think you should just go on and fuck me now," Jongin spoke with the sort of quiet and slightly shaky voice - despite this, his tone was still demanding, and Kyungsoo still found it to be pretty.
Kyungsoo ignored Jongin's impatient demands. He could even say he taunted him even as he let Jongin watched him fiddle with the packed condom before slipping it on slowly and carefully.
He enjoyed how Jongin whined at that. He had been enjoying all of this, really, even though he wondered if he might regret this in the morning.
He looked at Jongin’s skin flushed red and decided he wouldn’t.
"Still hate me?"
"Even more so,” Jongin frowned deeply, but that was quickly replaced by surprise, then pleasure, as Kyungsoo entered him abruptly in comparison to the time he had spent preparing.
Everything was still similar to their kiss at the bar, because despite the change in venue and despite how Kyungsoo was fucking his, most likely, only anti on an almost too narrow bed. Because in the end they were still two drunk people and like two drunk people kissing, two drunk people fucked drunkenly sloppy and passionate, messy and hot.
Yet Kyungsoo loved it. He loved watching Jongin’s voice first escaped in tiny whimpers before turning into stifled moans, and, as he fucked him harder, into loud, beautiful moans.
Jongin wasn’t just pretty.
He was gorgeous.
Kyungsoo kissed him, stifling his own moans as he came into the condom while having selfishly listened to all of Jongin’s, especially Jongin’s moan as he came just moments before Kyungsoo.
Oh well.
Jongin did say he hated Kyungsoo’s voice.
“You were so loud yesterday,” Jongin’s sister complained at breakfast. She was dressed in her office wear, ready to leave for work. Jongin meanwhile, tossed on his loosest T-shirt and boxers as he munched on a toast. Seven-thirty was much too early for him to be up, but his sister had knocked on his door early, probably to give him an earful regarding his late night activities.
Do Kyungsoo’s The Romance Collection Volume II played in the background of their small dining room, his sister had put it on as she got ready. Little did she know her favourite singer was currently sleeping soundly in her little brother’s bedroom, and the thought of that brought a smirk to Jongin’s face.
“Who were you even with? Sehun?”
Jongin’s face twisted into a look of disgust. “That’s gross.”
“One night stand then.”
“Actually,” Jongin said, a little more awake now, if only to enjoy his sister's baffled expression. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
His sister raised an eyebrow.
Jongin grinned.
“Let’s just say I don’t hate this song anymore.”
fandom exo
pairing kaisoo
style one-shot
length 2773
kim jongin really hates generic b-list ballad singer do kyungsoo and his albums with generic titles like the ballad collection volume one and the covers where the round eyed dopey smiled singer leans on a piano or a table. written cause this image of kyungsoo looks like a typical b-list ballad singer album cover.
"I hate this song."
Kim Jongin loudly announced with a groan as a generic ballad with a forgettable melody and horribly written lyrics was heard through the walls that separated his room from his sister's. He announced it to his best friend, Sehun, technically, even though Sehun should already know he hated this song and even though he said it loud enough for his sister to hear through the paper-thin walls on purpose.
"Shut the fuck up Jongin!" She quickly yelled back from her room.
Sehun rolled his eyes. "I have never seen two people in the same house care this much for this generic B-list singer. What's his name again?"
"Do fucking Kyungsoo," Jongin muttered angrily. "And I wouldn't care about him at all if she stop blasting his music!"
Jongin said the last part of his sentence loudly, which earned him another shut the fuck up from his sister.
"You know," Sehun said, acting all thoughtful. Jongin instantly dreaded what his best friend was about say next. "I doubt any of this anger stems from shitty music."
Yep, Jongin's dread was not unfounded.
Sehun had been taking a psychology module this semester, despite being an applied music major, and had been trying to psychoanalyse everything from Jongin's hatred for socks to Jongin's preference for fried chicken over beef.
"No Sehun, this has to do with shit music," Jongin murmured.
Sehun continued anyway, although Jongin already knew his conclusion. It was always the same after all: "You need to get laid."
Even without a semester of psychology Jongin could come up with better analysis than that. He could be stressed out over maintaining his grades to keep his dance scholarship. He could be tired after hours of rehearsal for the upcoming modern dance performance he was hired to do.
He could also be sick of the voice of his sister's favourite B-list ballad singer.
But Sehun would equate any of those problems to Jongin needing to get laid anyway.
Jongin opted to say nothing and sigh.
Sehun smirked. "So let's go."
"Where to?"
Sehun shrugged. "Somewhere without Do fucking Kyungsoo's The Romance Collection Volume One playing."
Unfortunately, Jongin had to agree that sounded like a good idea.
It wasn’t as if Do Kyungsoo wanted to sing generic ballad songs for a generic ballad album with a generic ballad album cover of him smiling as he leaned on either a piano or a table.
Like most singers, Do Kyungsoo wanted to produce a hit.
But there are too many people who wanted to produce a hit and too little who made it. Kyungsoo was just grateful that there was a market for generic ballads and he could make his rent singing.
Still, he needed a drink after recording a song for his next album: Do Kyungsoo, The Birthday Collection Volume II, a ten-track cover albums of classic birthday songs done ballad styled.
Kyungsoo didn’t even know there was more than one classic birthday song. Nevermind two albums worth of it.
He sighed to himself in the middle of the street before pulling up his smartphone and asked it to lead him to the nearest bar.
“When I said you can pick any bar, I was thinking somewhere we can get laid,” Sehun complained. “Not a sport bar. And definitely not The Red Stag. Most you’d get here is an argument about Chelsea. Again.”
“You said any bar,” Jongin said. “And I was fighting a good battle.”
The Red Stag was their regular hang-out. A sports bar located fifteen minutes walk away from the flat Jongin shared with his sister. The owner, Lu Han, was an upperclassman at the arts university both of them attended and bought the bar when he was still studying, hiring a handsome young barkeeper by the name of Minseok to run it for him.
Except for the sports channel. He picked most of those and most of what he chose was football.
“The usual Jongin?” Minseok said with a smile. Jongin nodded.
“Seriously? Sports bar, The Red Stag and your usual?” Sehun scoffed. “You’re really not trying.”
Jongin shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to get laid, not me. “
“I want to get you laid,” Sehun sighed. “How long has it been Jonginnie, really?”
“I’m doing fine without that.” Jongin said. He turned to take his drink from the bar. “Thanks Minseok.”
“The usual for you too Sehun?”
Sehun sighed. “Might as well.”
“You got your usual too,” Jongin pointed out.
“At least mine is alcoholic,” Sehun rolled his eyes.
The Red Stag was the name of the bar Kyungsoo found himself in. A rather inconspicuous sports bar with a classic English-styled name and emblem that was showing a football match of two English football teams he had never heard of. He was never a huge fan of football, or sports bars for that matter, but it was the closest from the rundown studio Kyungsoo was recording at earlier.
It was relatively empty on a weekday and the relatively unknown football team. A few people, presumably fans wore the same coloured jerseys as the athletes on the screen they had their eyes glued to. The rest seemed to be students, casually dressed and in their early twenties, which was expected considering the bar’s location near a university. Kyungsoo scanned through all of them with disinterest until his eyes landed on a figure standing by the bar.
The man who caught his attention was taller than he was just his type, pretty with dyed dark brown hair and copper skin. He seemed to be more occupied with talking to the barkeeper and his friend than at watching the match.
Kyungsoo still wanted his drink, but now he wanted this man just as much.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Kyungsoo told the barkeeper as he approached, leaning against the counter next to the man.
The barkeeper raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Hey man,” the friend the man was talking to called out to him. “You wouldn’t want what he’s having.”
“I can handle it,” Kyungsoo said.
“Oh, that’s not my problem with it,” the barkeeper said. Kyungsoo noticed the other two at the counter trying to hold back laughter. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll take the chance.,” Kyungsoo said, not wanting to step back now. His alcohol tolerance was always pretty high anyway and he hadn’t drank anything that floored him.
“If you say so,” the bartender smiled. “Lemonade on rocks.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes widened as he turned to the sounds of laughter beside him.
“My usual,” the pretty man smiled apologetically, raising his glass up to Kyungsoo. God, Kyungsoo thought, even his voice was pretty.
“Lemonade on rocks in a bar?”
“He’s weak,” the friend said.
“Shut up,” the man hit his friend lightly on the shoulder. “Alcohol is expensive.”
“You’re,” Kyungsoo started, but had to pause to figure out the exact word he could use to express what he thought. “Interesting.”
“That’s another word for weird, isn’t it?” the man said. “Instead of interesting, I can just be Jongin to you.”
“Kyungsoo.”
“Mmm, I guess it’s a common name,” Jongin muttered, sounding a little disappointed. By the way his friend snorted, Kyungsoo guessed that he might have shared the name with an ex of Jongin’s or something similar to that.
In any case, Jongin continue to talk, and as Kyungsoo’s drink arrived, Jongin laughed.
Even his laugh was pretty, Kyungsoo decided.
But that might be the lemonade on rocks talking.
“You’re drinking,” Sehun said.
Sehun had moved aside relatively early into Jongin’s conversation, whispering Jongin that he felt ignored between Jongin and his new suitor. It seemed like only minutes later that Sehun took Jongin by the arm and pulled him to the side, but when Sehun did, Jongin realised he had finished his lemonade and the glass of vodka that Kyungsoo bought for him.
“I was drinking from the start,” Jongin replied, although his words were a little slurred.
“You’re drinking alcohol,” Sehun crinkled his nose. “Vodka, too. God Jongin, you’re weak to alcohol.”
“I am not.”
“You are too. You’re fucking drunk.”
Jongin felt a little offended at that. He was a little tipsy, maybe, but he surely wasn’t drunk. For one he could still stand, although he stumbled a little. And he definitely was only holding on to Sehun because he felt like it.
But before he could say anything to Sehun about this he caught a glimpse of Kyungsoo leaning on the counter.
And then it struck him.
He recognised that pose. He recognised it from this angle, framed this way.
He had seen this on way too many standard cheaply-made CD covers.
“Fucking hell,” he swore.
“Yeah fucking hell you’re drunk--”
“No fuck that,” he let go of Sehun and stumbled over a little. He felt himself sway from side to side as he approached the bar, letting his whole weight fall over on the counter. He pointed at Kyungsoo. “You-- You’re fucking Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo gave him a confused look. “Yes, I told you that.”
“Right, you did,” Jongin said, not being sure exactly why he said that. “That’s not what I mean. You’re the singer. Do fucking Kyungsoo.”
Jongin watched as Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. “So you know me?”
“Yeah,” Jongin nodded repeatedly. “I fucking hate you, man.”
Well, that was new.
Kyungsoo was more than used to people not knowing who he was. More than used than people who was slightly familiar with who he was. A little used to fans, rare as they were and most of them in their late forties.
But he wasn’t used to getting, well, how would you even describe this? An anti?
“What do you mean you fucking hate me?”
“I fucking hate you,” Jongin went on, although he didn’t even seem steady on his feet. “You and your generic ballads and,” he pushed Kyungsoo lightly, although Kyungsoo thought part of that might be how drunk he was then. “And your generic covers of you leaning against a piano or a table or some shit.”
Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how to react.
The night was going so well too.
“Uh,” he made a sound, although he wasn’t sure if he even meant to make a word.
“And I,” Jonging stepped closer. Stumbled closer. He rested his arms on Kyungsoo then. “Really hate how you’re actually really attractive when you’re not posing for The Romance Collection Volume I or II or III or whatever.”
Before Kyungsoo could process what was happening, Jongin had grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, it was drunkenly sloppy and passionate, messy and hot.
The night was going so well, still.
Perhaps.
Jongin let Kyungsoo into his flat. Or he let Kyungsoo use his keys to let him in, he didn’t really understand what was going on by then anyway, not between the kisses and the heat of their bodies pressed together in the stumble between the bar and his place.
“Wait,” Kyungsoo paused. “Wait, are you sure?”
“Sure,” Jongin said before stealing another kiss.
“You’re drunk,” Kyungsoo said.
“I know enough,” Jongin tugged Kyungsoo towards his bedroom.
Jongin’s bedroom was a single-bed room that was almost not a bedroom at all from its size. Still, a single bed fitted two just fine as they clung to each other and felt each other up. Jongin led Kyungsoo to their bed and Kyungsoo found himself pushing him down with his weight. His kisses moved from Jongin’s lips to his jawlines and down his neck as he took Jongin’s shirt off and Jongin helped him with his and tossed it to the side.
“You’re very pretty like this,” Kyungsoo said. And Jongin believed him. “You were pretty to start with, but.” And Jongin still believed him.
“Uhm, lube, condom,” Jongin raked his mind and remembered that Sehun put a small tube of lube and condom in his pocket earlier that night ‘just in case’. Jongin felt himself somewhat grateful towards his best friend at that point. “Pocket. In one of them, I forgot which.”
“You have like, four, six,” Kyungsoo said. He went through all of them and pulled them out from the first one he went through anyway.
“I don’t like bags,” Jongin said.
“I’ll remember that for the morning,” Kyungsoo replied as he leaned in to kiss Jongin again.
“You do that,” Jongin was impatient and wrestled Kyungsoo down, undressing his partner and taking off his boxers, taking Kyungsoo’s half-erect cock into his mouth. He watched Kyungsoo’s reactions from the corner of his eye, listening to Kyungsoo’s moans.
It sounded nicer than he remembered his sister looping through her standard ballad collections.
“Fuck, Jongin,” Kyungsoo muttered, he ran his fingers through Jongin’s hair, tugging on it gently. “Fuck.”
Kyungsoo came close before pulling Jongin back, just about keeping in balance on the single bed as he climbed back on top of Jongin. He showed the lube that was still in his hand. “Can I?”
“I told you where to find it for a reason,” Jongin said.
Kyungsoo kissed Jongin again. “You’re a bit of an asshole.”
Jongin leaned in to return the gesture. “Sure, whatever you want to think.”
He rolled his eyes and lubed up his fingers and put a digit inside Jongin, watching for Jongin’s reactions - Jongin was biting his lower lip and wincing a little, but by the time the second finger entered him, he began to adjust to it.
“You’re slow,” Jongin complained, although he was leisurely about his complaint. Kyungsoo’s pace was perfect to adjust to, and by the third and fourth he was used to it. Still, Kyungsoo watched as Jongin was flushed red and his voice shook in a different way from when he slurred.
“You’re tight,” Kyungsoo muttered back.
Jongin smirked. “Got you to say the cliche.”
Kyungsoo kissed Jongin to shut him out as he drew his fingers out of Jongin. “Isn’t it because you’re a cliche?”
“Maybe, but I think you should just go on and fuck me now," Jongin spoke with the sort of quiet and slightly shaky voice - despite this, his tone was still demanding, and Kyungsoo still found it to be pretty.
Kyungsoo ignored Jongin's impatient demands. He could even say he taunted him even as he let Jongin watched him fiddle with the packed condom before slipping it on slowly and carefully.
He enjoyed how Jongin whined at that. He had been enjoying all of this, really, even though he wondered if he might regret this in the morning.
He looked at Jongin’s skin flushed red and decided he wouldn’t.
"Still hate me?"
"Even more so,” Jongin frowned deeply, but that was quickly replaced by surprise, then pleasure, as Kyungsoo entered him abruptly in comparison to the time he had spent preparing.
Everything was still similar to their kiss at the bar, because despite the change in venue and despite how Kyungsoo was fucking his, most likely, only anti on an almost too narrow bed. Because in the end they were still two drunk people and like two drunk people kissing, two drunk people fucked drunkenly sloppy and passionate, messy and hot.
Yet Kyungsoo loved it. He loved watching Jongin’s voice first escaped in tiny whimpers before turning into stifled moans, and, as he fucked him harder, into loud, beautiful moans.
Jongin wasn’t just pretty.
He was gorgeous.
Kyungsoo kissed him, stifling his own moans as he came into the condom while having selfishly listened to all of Jongin’s, especially Jongin’s moan as he came just moments before Kyungsoo.
Oh well.
Jongin did say he hated Kyungsoo’s voice.
“You were so loud yesterday,” Jongin’s sister complained at breakfast. She was dressed in her office wear, ready to leave for work. Jongin meanwhile, tossed on his loosest T-shirt and boxers as he munched on a toast. Seven-thirty was much too early for him to be up, but his sister had knocked on his door early, probably to give him an earful regarding his late night activities.
Do Kyungsoo’s The Romance Collection Volume II played in the background of their small dining room, his sister had put it on as she got ready. Little did she know her favourite singer was currently sleeping soundly in her little brother’s bedroom, and the thought of that brought a smirk to Jongin’s face.
“Who were you even with? Sehun?”
Jongin’s face twisted into a look of disgust. “That’s gross.”
“One night stand then.”
“Actually,” Jongin said, a little more awake now, if only to enjoy his sister's baffled expression. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
His sister raised an eyebrow.
Jongin grinned.
“Let’s just say I don’t hate this song anymore.”
