***~***

There’s this cliché about wanting to freeze-frame a moment or take a snapshot in time and Kyungsoo’s not entirely sure how it goes but if he did it’d be pretty applicable here. 

There isn’t anything particularly pretty about this specific performance. It’s their second win, so about half of the members have already gotten most of the tears out of their system. They’ve had better stage costumes, will probably get better stage costumes in the future, especially regarding Jongin and that goddamn cami poncho or whatever the hell it is he’s wearing. Kyungsoo somehow managed to get out of it, and Baekhyun didn’t come out half bad, but everyone else looks like bits of tacky hunting gear. 

Still, it’s good because there’s confetti falling all around them and Jonghyun-sunbae is hanging around and trolling and Joonmyun is starting his thank-you speech without turning into an ugly crying mess again. Jongin’s slipped in next to Kyungsoo now, and neither of them can quell the massive grin on their faces, not with the fans screaming wildly before them and Jongdae accepting the bouquet of flowers next to their leader. 

“We won!” Kyungsoo yells, purposely drawing out the last syllable before it disintegrates into giddy laughter, high on the excitement of their win and the members' ecstatic faces around them, but none of it compares to the way Jongin’s grin extends even wider at the words, lifting his fist to his mouth as if the smile is actually straining his cheeks. It might’ve been, but Jongin deserved this moment. Jongin who had to audition to stand where he is now, Jongin who shed the most sweat and put his everything into debuting, Jongin who used to take to the empty practice rooms when he thought he’d have the privacy and cry quietly until he’d exhausted enough tears to make it through another hour, another day, another week.

Jongin in the dorms these days isn’t much different from Jongin during his pre-debut years, cool and reserved and maybe a little too serious for his age, but the difference between now and then is that Kyungsoo isn’t one of those people who was put off by it at first. Some of the members, like Baekhyun or Chanyeol or Luhan, had mistaken Jongin’s attitude for being disinterested or unfriendly, and it was only a few months before debut when all of the members got on the same page and understood that Jongin warms up if you give him some time. But that meant that Kyungsoo got a head start on getting to know Jongin, and Kyungsoo prides himself in being close enough now that he’s able to read Jongin better than most, can get Jongin to relax a little better than most, can tell that the smile directed at him now is genuine, and not one of the smiles that the CEO told Jongin to use when the cameras are pointed and he isn’t being Kai. At this stage in the game, Kyungsoo would like to think that he knows almost everything there is to know about Kim Jongin, period.

But it’s not until Jongin leans in suddenly, bumping their foreheads together, that Kyungsoo realizes that he had it wrong, that Jongin’s fist in front of his mouth is there because it’s the only thing keeping Jongin from kissing him in front of everybody else, not because his smile is so wide.

And then Kyungsoo remembers why loving Jongin never gets old.

 ***~***

They watch the broadcast later crowded in the living room, with half the members predictably draped all over each so that they can fit, and the other half stuffing their faces with junk food because they’re the kind of people with black holes for stomachs and no visible traces of calories or fat intake on their bodies the next morning. Lucky bastards.

He’s not sitting next to Jongin right now. Kyungsoo’s scored a spot on the couch, due to the satisfying mix of both luck and simply being the reputed punisher within the group, while Jongin’s got nothing but second-last place in the age pecking order that demotes him to sitting on the floor at the others’ feet. Gravitated to each other as they are most of the time, they don’t always end up side-by-side, but neither of them are ones to push it and make it that way. It’s one of the perks of dating someone as calm and subdued as Jongin—they can be possessive, but it doesn’t always have to show.

“How did Kyungsoo manage to get away with wearing all black today?” Wufan says, slightly disgruntled. The complaint is nothing new—Wufan’s entire existence revolves around his style and clothing so much that Kyungsoo is afraid to even breathe in the same room where he keeps his hats.

“I had to wear a fishing vest, don’t complain,” Minseok fires back good-naturedly.

They watch the remaining performances with a half-interest throughout, spilling chips and popcorn everywhere with a short-lived brawl somewhere in between that consisted of Chanyeol wrestling Sehun and lots of Zitao whining, but they all snap back into attention when they see all the performers grouped on stage again. They watch the numbers rise on the album sales, the video views, the viewer’s committee preference, and listen to Sehun make some snide remark about the weird way Joonmyun bit his upper lip halfway through, before they all watch their own reactions as they’re announced the winner and the trophy is presented.

“What’s wrong with my expression?” Chanyeol frowns, staring hard at the screen.

“Baekhyun looked like he was going to cry for a second,” Jongdae laughs.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, look at this!” Sehun says suddenly, pointing at the screen. “Check out the lovebirds in the back!”

Kyungsoo’s mouth falls open in surprise. He wouldn’t have even noticed him and Jongin in the back if Sehun hadn’t pointed it out, but now it’s clear as anything, Jongin and Kyungsoo touching foreheads and staring into each other’s eyes in a way that looks a lot more cheesy than it felt when they actually did it earlier, just visible behind Baekhyun rubbing himself all over Jonghyun-sunbae. You can see the way Jongin throws his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulder and keeps them close afterword, as well as their mouths moving soundlessly in a brief exchange of words.

Which, luckily, do not make it past the sound of fans screaming and Joonmyun’s acceptance speech. There definitely would’ve been a very long and over-exaggerated round of gags if the members could hear Jongin asking “Is it too much?” and Kyungsoo answering “No” with a shake of his head, followed by two days’ worth of teasing from the more sadistic of the members.

But unfortunately they’re all still making a hell of a lot of noise now anyway.

“Aren’t you two just the cosiest things,” Baekhyun coos amidst all the laughter and Chanyeol and Jongdae’s immature chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”, using his foot to poke Jongin behind his ear from the couch.

“What the hell, don’t put your feet in my face,” Jongin slaps Baekhyun’s foot away. He gets up from his spot on the floor after several moments of strenuous detangling from the other member’s bodies. “I’m going to bed now.”

Kyungsoo blinks, watching Jongin retreat to his room. For the most part Jongin’s expression is just blank and sleepy, but Kyungsoo knows Jongin’s blank and sleepy face, and this one’s a bit different from usual. It almost looks...well, not so blank.

The noise finally dies down at Jongin’s exit. “He looked a bit weird just now,” Luhan says, and he’s got this half-smile on his face, the one he wears when he’s not sure whether they have a problem on their hands or not. “Is he mad?”

“He’s just cranky,” Sehun says dispassionately, on the verge of starting a second wrestling match with Chanyeol for the popcorn bowl, the latter staring at him wordlessly while keeping a death grip on the food. “He’s always cranky. The only times he isn’t cranky is when he’s slept 18 of 24 hours in a day.”

But there’s still a general air of uncertainty with a few of the members, so Kyungsoo says simply, “I’ll check on him,” moving to surface from where he’s sunk deep between Luhan and Wufan in the cushions.

“Yes, check,” Jongdae says, with extreme emphasis. “And please use your indoor voices.”

Kyungsoo pays him no mind, but after leaving the living room he hears a yelp from Jongdae, the cause of which was probably administered by Joonmyun.

Jongin’s already face-down on the sheets when he gets there, although it’s uncertain whether he’s washed his face or brushed his teeth given the time span between when he left the living room and when Kyungsoo came to join him. Luckily Jongin changed into more comfortable clothes earlier when they first got back to the dorm or else it’s clear he wouldn’t have bothered changing clothes now either.

“It’s me,” Kyungsoo says, through the crack in the door.

Jongin grunts, which is the most he can muster up for an affirmative when he isn’t telling a person to “go away” or “leave me alone” instead. Kyungsoo slips into the room and closes the door behind him before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Kyungsoo reaches out to place a hand over the heel of Jongin’s right foot, fingers curling and massaging idly into the ankle.

Jongin grunts again, a little more quietly now that the sound doesn’t need to carry across the room.

It’s a bit tricky now because Kyungsoo’s doesn’t have words or expressions to work with, so he’s still trying to work out the cause of this behaviour. Jongin hasn’t done anything to acknowledge him caveman noises aside, and that’s when it occurs for the first time that the problem might be him.

Kyungsoo pauses. “You’re mad at me?”

“No.” Jongin lifts up from the pillows just enough to look at Kyungsoo over his shoulder. “It was my fault.”

Now Kyungsoo’s confused. “What?”

“During the encore. You said it wasn’t too much but it was, right?”

Oh. Oh. “No,” Kyungsoo says, hand slipping down Jongin’s foot a little in surprise. “No, of course not, Jongin.”

Jongin’s leg wiggles. “You’re tickling me, hyung.”

“Then sit up and talk to me,” Kyungsoo says, tugging on the hem of Jongin’s sweatpants a little.

Jongin does, rolling over and hoisting himself up from the bed before draping his arms over the knees of his bent legs. The expression of his eyes are hard to make out in the dark. “I’m not being careful enough,” he says.

“You’ve done perfectly fine. It’s not like you kissed me.”

“I almost did,” Jongin says, and his voice goes tight. “Sometimes I can’t—”

And then he stops abruptly, like he’s said too much.

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, placing a hand on Jongin’s arm, but Jongin just curls into himself, bringing his knees in closer to his chest and tightening his arms around his legs.

“Never mind.”

“No, hey, c’mon.” Kyungsoo adjusts himself so that he’s on his knees in front of Jongin, both hands light and reassuring on Jongin’s biceps now. “It’s okay, Jongin, really. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Jongin doesn’t budge at first, but Kyungsoo knows that sometimes it’s all about consistency and patience with Jongin, so he rests his weight on his heels and wordlessly runs his fingers through Jongin’s hair for a bit, feeling out the spots still a little stiff with hairspray and the softer, covered locks underneath those.  

The first time he stroked Jongin’s hair, it was a couple of weeks after they first debuted, when they were still rooming together and Kyungsoo caught Jongin staring at him, hard, body still stiff from his waist injury and hair a little damp with sweat from dance practice. He grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand suddenly and brought it to his crotch, hard inside of his sweatpants, and guided Kyungsoo to palm him through his clothes, bottom lip caught between his teeth and hips bucking forward slightly into their grip. Kyungsoo was too shocked, too confused, to do anything but stare up wordlessly at Jongin, at the intensity of his expression, only able to understand that Jongin probably needed this, a lot.

Jongin finally let go of his lip when he came, mouth hanging open soundlessly with head titled back and eyes falling shut, but then he seemed to remember that Kyungsoo was still there and let go of him suddenly to rush away and lock himself into the bathroom for the next three hours.

They didn’t talk about it. They still haven’t talked about it, but when Jongin finally came out his eyes were red and he refused to utter a single noise, and Kyungsoo didn’t know how to comfort him but he thought maybe he could try, so he let Jongin lie in his bed that night and stroked his hair until he fell asleep, and that had settled that. Kyungsoo remembers how he thought, from the way Jongin was acting, that it hadn’t meant anything, that it had simply been a moment of weakness, of desperation on Jongin's part. He remembers how quickly that changed.

Sometimes I can’t...

Jongin finally reaches up and takes hold of the hand Kyungsoo’s using to card through his hair. He looks up at Kyungsoo.

“I’m not good at self-control,” he says, slowly. “On days like today, anyway. When everything’s overwhelming, and it’s...harder.”

“It’s only human of you,” Kyungsoo corrects him. “I told you, it’s fine. We had a big day.”

“Two in a row.” Jongin’s lips quirk into a brief smile at the thought, and Kyungsoo relaxes at the sight. “How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Stay in check.”

“You mean from wanting to kiss you in the middle of a Music Core win?” Kyungsoo quips, grinning when Jongin tries to pout at him and fails. “I don’t know. I just think forward to now and remind myself that I don’t have to share you with anyone, in the end.”

Jongin’s speechless for a moment, surprised. “That’s pretty cocky of you.”

“Is it?” Kyungsoo tugs on Jongin’s arms, and Jongin pulls them away from his legs, making room for Kyungsoo to lean in. “Or is it just the truth?”

“Both,” Jongin allows, and he’s smiling a little again when Kyungsoo kisses him.

It’s slow. It’s always slow with them, almost calm in a way that’s too bizarre for sex, but it’s better this way anyway, because it’s all about consistency and patience with Jongin, and Kyungsoo likes to take his time. He strips Jongin down and mouths his way across the plane of Jongin’s torso and relishes the soft, needy sigh of “Kyungsoo” as a hand tangles into his hair. Jongin’s so beautiful like this, when he gives himself over completely to Kyungsoo and lays himself out, spread and smooth and inviting for Kyungsoo to explore, to memorize, to mark.

Jongin cups Kyungsoo’s face in his hands when Kyungsoo slips inside of him and keeps them there the whole time, lips parted and chest fluttering with his uneven breaths and eyes growing glassy with arousal but gaze firmly planted on Kyungsoo’s face, rapt and unwavering. Kyungsoo thrusts into him languidly, keeping a steady pace, holding back with his self-control for as long as he can, and as he does this he presses kisses to Jongin’s face and lips and licks into his open mouth, swallowing the little moans and whines Jongin makes when he does this. Jongin is all soft sighs and deep moans today, the way he always is when he’s at his most content.

Kyungsoo hoists Jongin’s ankles over his shoulders and shifts a little to try and thrust harder into Jongin’s prostate. Jongin’s breath hitches with a choked noise, abs clenching tightly, and Kyungsoo smiles into Jongin’s temple before moving to place kisses along his cheek.

Jongin pulls him back a little in order to look at him, though, hands tightening on Kyungsoo’s face. “If I could keep you here—” he starts, and then blushes. “No, I mean—that didn’t—”

A swell of affection has Kyungsoo pressing a heady kiss to Jongin’s heated lips. “I know what you mean,” he says honestly, thinking back to when they touched foreheads during their win today.

They finally start losing some of their control, hands fumbling and movements growing sloppy, gasping and panting against each other’s mouths as Kyungsoo’s hips start moving more vigorously. Jongin, somehow, manages to look Kyungsoo dead in the eye when he comes, and the way his mouth falls open and his expression contorts in ecstasy, eyes dark and gaze locked with Kyungsoo’s, has a dizzying head rush whiting out Kyungsoo’s vision as he chokes a moan and comes hard right after, body shuddering with pleasure. They stay locked in their positions long enough to catch their breath, before Kyungsoo cleans them up and tosses the condom into the trash.

Jongin pulls him close, nuzzling his face into Kyungsoo’s hair. “Should’ve done this last night,” he mumbles. “Would’ve made more sense to celebrate the first win.”

“Better than not doing it at all,” Kyungsoo says, thumb tracing back and forth over Jongin’s collarbone.

He was only joking around, but Jongin goes silent for a bit at that. “Do you ever think about that?”

“What?”

“What it would be like if we...didn’t do this. Any of it.”

Kyungsoo pauses. “You mean us?”

“Yeah,” and it’s barely noticeable, but there’s the slightest crack at the end of the word, the sound mirroring the cold, lonely feeling that briefly churns in Kyungsoo’s stomach at the thought as he takes a moment to imagine no Jongin and Kyungsoo. Just...Jongin, and Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo presses his lips together. “I don’t like to think about it,” he admits. “But I don’t really think I need to.” He tilts his head up, so that Jongin can surface from Kyungsoo’s hair and see the small, content smile on his face. “Do you?”

Jongin blinks, and then he breaks into a relieved smile of his own. “No. I won’t be the one going anywhere.”