Liz (pageandpetals) wrote,
Liz
pageandpetals

killing time (can i kill it with you?) (jundae, nc17, 10.5k)

Title: killing time (can i kill it with you?)
Author: hopeandmemory
Pairing: Jongdae/Junmyeon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,500
Summary: Jongdae goes to Martha's Vineyard to visit Junmyeon for a couple weeks of summer vacation.

Jongdae fiddles with the cuff of his sweatshirt as he leans against the ferry’s railing, watching the coastline of the Vineyard come into clearer view. It’s cool and breezy out on the ocean, even though it’s fairly warm on the mainland. Junmyeon told him to bring a light jacket and a few sweaters, so Jongdae’s duffel bag is stuffed with a raincoat, a ratty zip hoodie, and exactly one Nice sweater (which was a gift from Junmyeon, anyway). The rest is socks and shorts and underwear and swim trunks and a brand new box of condoms because a vacation alone, unsupervised, on freaking Martha’s Vineyard with your crazy-rich boyfriend is absolutely an excuse to buy a variety pack of flavored condoms. This is what Jongdae keeps telling himself, anyway.

The ferry begins to slow down as it approaches the harbor, and Jongdae watches over the railing as the bow comes into contact with the dock, the ship jarring slightly as the rubber bumpers absorb the blow. A couple of crewmembers throw ropes over the edge of the ferry, carefully tying them to the posts on the dock before the bridge comes down to allow cars to drive off the ferry. Jongdae slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and makes his way down the steps to the main deck, suddenly grateful that he’s not one of the poor suckers who has to drive off this thing. He follows the crowd of people heading belowdecks and veers to the left, where a member of the crew is directing people without cars to disembark down the gangplank. Jongdae steps back into the sunlight and down the twisting ramp, salty sea air filling his nose as he shields his eyes from the blinding light reflected from the water. He feels giddy as he walks into the ferry terminal, his eyes slowly adjusting to fluorescent indoor lighting as he scans the room for any sight of Junmyeon.

He’s not there.

Jongdae shakes his sleeve out of the way to check his watch. The ferry had arrived right on time, and Junmyeon knows he’s supposed to come meet Jongdae, since Jongdae has no idea where his house is.

“Maybe he’s outside,” Jongdae mutters under his breath, hiking the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder and sidestepping other travelers and waiting family members to reach the main doors.

He’s just about to reach forward to push open a door when it flies open and he looks up to say “Excuse me,” but instead he just stops and utters a little “oh” in shock.

“Hi,” Junmyeon says, a little too loudly. Jongdae catches his eyes flick from side to side sheepishly, probably wondering if anyone heard him. Jongdae grins helplessly. He’s fucking adorable.

“Hey,” he says in reply, letting his bag slide down from his shoulder so he can hand it off to Junmyeon, who accepts it with a smile and a little shake of his head. “We should probably get out of the doorway.”

“Oh, yeah,” Junmyeon says, letting Jongdae take his elbow and steer him out of the line of foot traffic. “My car’s parked over here. Are you hungry? Do you want to get lunch? I have stuff for sandwiches at the house, but--”

“Can we just get in the car so I can say hello to you properly?” Jongdae whines, now pushing Junmyeon in the direction of his distinctly unflashy Hyundai Sonata.

Junmyeon only laughs, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his Nantucket Red shorts to pop the trunk. He’s wearing Sperrys with no socks, and in Jongdae’s general opinion that’s a punchable offense, but it just makes Junmyeon look beachy and relaxed. Jongdae relinquishes his hold on Junmyeon’s arm long enough to walk around the car and slide into the passenger seat, but as soon as Junmyeon joins him in the driver’s seat, Jongdae all but flings himself over the console, burying his face in Junmyeon’s neck and enjoying the familiar scent of Bleu de Chanel.

“Miss me?” Junmyeon chuckles, the sound slightly muffled when he bows his head to press his lips to Jongdae’s hair.

Obviously.” Jongdae kisses a line up Junmyeon’s neck until their mouths meet. “How has it only been three weeks since graduation?” He kisses Junmyeon again, a little longer this time. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months.”

Junmyeon pets his hair and kisses his nose. “I missed you, too. I’m so glad you’re going to be here for two whole weeks.” He smiles, and leans in for another kiss, which Jongdae offers up gleefully. “Now… lunch? I can show you around the house and the beach after we eat.”

“Yeah, I could eat a little,” Jongdae says, sucking on his lower lip and leaning back to buckle his seatbelt as Junmyeon turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of his parking space. “That ferry ride was kinda choppy, though. Mind if I take a little nap before we go sightseeing? My head kinda hurts.”

“Ugh, I know, I hate that boat,” Junmyeon says, reaching over to squeeze Jongdae’s shoulder. “Of course you can rest, you’ve been up for hours. How was your flight?”

Jongdae had taken the 7 a.m. flight from Philly to Boston, a bus from Logan to Woods Hole, and the ferry from Woods Hole to Vineyard Haven. He adjusts the AC vent so it blows straight into his face and slouches down in his seat. “Shaky as shit, I thought I was gonna die.” Junmyeon squeezes his shoulder tighter, a sympathetic noise sounding low in his throat. “Do you live far from here?”

“It’s about twenty minutes to my parents’ house,” Junmyeon says, turning out of the ferry depot and onto the main drag. “We live down on the southern coast of the island, near one of the ponds. There’s a beach not too far away, either. But it doesn’t take long to get around the island, it’s pretty small. We can just take it easy today, though. I didn’t make any plans for today, so we can just hang around the house and catch up.”

“Only if by ‘catch up’ you mean ‘make out for five hours,’” Jongdae drawls, letting his head loll to the side so he can watch Junmyeon get flustered and tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “But yeah, that sounds fine.” He pauses. “This implies that the rest of the trip is planned out. Are you gonna take me to do all the touristy stuff? You should have told me, I left my fanny pack at home…”

Junmyeon laughs. “It’s not that planned out. I just had ideas for where we could eat lunch or dinner on certain days, or what day would be best to visit some of the museums, or like, which beach is the best place to watch the sunset over the water.” Jongdae’s heart thumps in a way that makes him want to punch himself in the face. Don’t be such a sap. “Things like that. Otherwise, I’m up for anything.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” Jongdae says. “Relaxing. Going home is going to suck.”

“Don’t think about it right now,” Junmyeon says soothingly, reaching across the console again to take Jongdae’s hand. “You just got here, and we’ve got two whole weeks together. It’ll be my last hurrah before I have to go back to school, I want to enjoy it.”

Junmyeon had opted to take a year off before graduate school, but he’d still enrolled in Columbia’s summer publishing program, just to make some contacts and get an idea of what to expect when he starts to apply for jobs. They’ll actually be leaving the Vineyard on the same day, just heading to different places once they reach Logan Airport - Jongdae back to Philadelphia, and Junmyeon to New York.

“And before I have to start working again, ugh.” In the summers, Jongdae mans the phones at his father’s funeral parlor, a job he isn’t entirely cut out for. But it keeps his father from having to pay anyone full-time benefits, and he never has to actually be around for casket viewings or funerals. But at the same time, it’s difficult to listen to bereaved family members holding back tears over the phone while Jongdae gently recites the script of questions he’s supposed to ask, to call in orders to florists for the funerals of people who are too young to die, to schedule appointments with funeral directors and morticians. He’s not sure how his dad puts up with it day after day and manages to be such a funny, friendly guy. Jongdae’s been doing this every summer since he graduated from high school, and although he’s gotten used to it, it never ceases to make him sad.

“Well, don’t worry,” Junmyeon says, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along the knuckle of Jongdae’s thumb. “I’m sure we will make many happy memories you can distract yourself with if you have a bad day at work.”

Jongdae puts on his best scandalized expression, then wiggles his eyebrows lewdly.

Junmyeon just shakes his head, laughing helplessly. “You are seriously the worst, Jongdae.”

“If by ‘the worst’ you actually mean ‘your favorite,’ then yes,” Jongdae says, now making doe eyes at Junmyeon. Baekhyun would be puking from laughing so hard if he could see the schmoopy expression on his face, Jongdae is certain of it.

“That too.” Junmyeon gently extracts his hand from Jongdae’s so he can turn off the main road. He glances at the digital clock on the dashboard. “We made pretty good time, should be home in a few minutes.”

Home. Home alone with Junmyeon in a house by the sea. Jongdae’s insides are doing the conga in anticipation.

When they pull into the driveway, Jongdae can’t stop himself. “Holy shit,” he says loudly as Junmyeon steers them into the garage and puts the car into park. “This place is gigantic!”

“Yeah, it sleeps about eight,” Junmyeon says, pulling the keys out of the ignition and pocketing them before opening the door and stepping out. Jongdae follows suit. “After my parents get back from Europe they’re going to stay here for the rest of the month. Usually the whole family comes out, it’s sort of our annual family reunion time. We book this place every year around this time, but dad’s conference in Berlin kinda threw a wrench in the timing.” Junmyeon opens the trunk and slings Jongdae’s bag over his shoulder. “So they said I should just go out early, make sure the place is in good condition, enjoy myself for a couple of weeks.” He slams the trunk shut and grins at Jongdae. “So that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“Well, you did make valedictorian, after all,” Jongdae says, following Junmyeon out of the garage and across the driveway to the steps leading up to the porch. “It’s the least they could do.”

Junmyeon unlocks the front door and pushes it open, revealing a spacious, sunlit living room with hardwood floors and white throw rugs that match the white couch, accented with pillows in various shades of blue. Jongdae can see the dining room through a doorway to the left, the walls done up in grey paneling that reminds him of driftwood on the beach.

“I feel like I just died and woke up to find that heaven is a house in Better Homes and Gardens,” Jongdae says.

“You haven’t even seen the rest of it,” Junmyeon laughs, beckoning him onward. They walk past the main staircase into the kitchen, a galley split in half by the back door; there’s a sink and cupboards on one side, and the stove and refrigerator on the other side, with a small table and a few chairs lit by a sunny alcove. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge, whenever you want. I went on a booze run down island this morning since we’re in a dry town, so beer’s in the fridge and liquor’s in the pantry, if you want drinks later.”

“You are the best person I have ever known,” Jongdae says solemnly, clapping a hand around Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Now show me where I can take a nap.”

“That would be my room,” Junmyeon says, steering Jongdae in the direction of the back staircase. “Up and around the bannister, second door on the right.”

Jongdae takes the steps two at a time, Junmyeon following him. “Enjoying the view?” Jongdae snickers. Junmyeon swats his ass in reply, which only makes Jongdae cackle harder.

Junmyeon’s room is the only one with the door open, so Jongdae doesn’t see the others right away, but Junmyeon’s bedroom is ridiculous. The focal point of the room is clearly the king-sized bed with approximately nine hundred pillows (just a rough estimate) and a fluffy Currier-and-Ives-inspired duvet. Like the other rooms in the house, it’s well-lit by two large windows facing the bed, which give a lovely view of the sea grasses waving in the breeze coming off the water.

“This is the biggest bed I have ever been in,” Jongdae says, kicking his shoes off and flinging himself onto the comforter, waving his arms and legs as though making a snow angel. “And the most comfortable, oh my god.”

Junmyeon moves into his eyeline, dropping Jongdae’s duffel onto his stomach and laughing at Jongdae’s little whine of protest. “Do you want me to wake you up at a certain time?”

Jongdae shoves the duffel bag off the bed and shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll probably only be out a couple of hours. Maybe if I’m not up by two, come make sure I’m still breathing.”

“Mmkay,” Junmyeon says, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning down towards Jongdae, who lifts his head for a kiss. Junmyeon cradles his face with one hand as he seals his mouth to Jongdae’s, then slides his hand around to the back of his head, easing him back down onto the mattress. He sits back, trailing his thumb along the curve of Jongdae’s lower lip. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Jongdae says, eyes crinkling in a smile. He’s exhausted, but he feels giddy and too full, like he might pop any second.

Junmyeon eases himself off the bed and Jongdae repositions himself, arranging the pillows the way he likes them. “Sleep well.”

“Will do.” Jongdae slides under the covers. “See you in a bit.”



Jongdae wakes up with his face mashed into a pillow and his shorts hanging off the side of the mattress, with one arm in his sweatshirt and the other arm out.

“You’ve been sleep-stripping again,” a familiar voice says, and Jongdae yells into the pillow as he rolls over to find Junmyeon sitting on the other side of the bed, reading The New York Times on his iPad.

“Holy shit,” Jongdae breathes, sucking in a long gasp of air and yanking his sweatshirt off the rest of the way. “How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe half an hour,” Junmyeon says, peering at the time on his tablet. “It gets warm up here in the afternoons and I thought you might want the window open. Turns out I was too late.”

Jongdae pulls himself up to lean against the pillows, and opts to flop bonelessly against Junmyeon’s shoulder instead. “What time is it?” he mumbles.

“Just after one-thirty,” Junmyeon replies, adjusting Jongdae’s head so he can wrap his arm around Jongdae’s back. “Want some lunch?”

“Will I be required to put my pants back on?” Jongdae nuzzles his face into Junmyeon’s chest.

“Not at all,” Junmyeon says, flipping the cover over his iPad. He turns onto his side to snuggle Jongdae properly. “This is a private beach, after all.”

“Yooooou did not tell me that.” Jongdae shoots him an accusing look. “Does this mean we can go skinny dipping?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Junmyeon says, kneading his fingers into Jongdae’s hip. “I don’t know what your feelings are about sand, but I personally don’t want it anywhere my swim trunks normally cover.”

“Ooh.” Jongdae winces. “You’re probably right. That probably knocks out sex on the beach, too, huh?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, no…” Junmyeon glances down at Jongdae. “Can’t we just do it in a bed like normal people? Look. Feel the bed. It’s so soft and comfortable. Optimal sex conditions, right there.”

“Junmyeon. Junmyeonnie. You’re a college graduate. I need you to be more adventurous,” Jongdae croons, punctuating each phrase with a kiss. “You don’t have to pretend like you don’t want me in every room of this house. Your parents aren’t here. It’s okay.”

Junmyeon muffles a faint strangled sort of noise in the crook of Jongdae’s neck and nods. Jongdae smiles. “I know, I’m the worst.”

“You really are,” Junmyeon groans, “just… frustratingly hot. Even when you’re being cute. It’s your best - and yet somehow your worst - attribute.”

Jongdae just laughs and sits up, crawling over Junmyeon’s lap and straddling his thighs. “Will you be less frustrated if I suck your dick and get it out of your system?”

“Won’t that ruin your appetite?” Junmyeon smirks.

“I always leave a little extra room for dessert,” Jongdae says, deftly undoing Junmyeon’s belt and the fastening of his shorts, “and dick.” Jongdae scoots off of Junmyeon’s lap so he can tug his shorts and briefs down to his knees and push his shirt up his belly. He sighs happily and reaches for Junmyeon’s half-hard cock, jacking it to full hardness. “Hello, sir. I’ve missed you.”

“You-- you nicknamed my penis?” Junmyeon swallows a grunt and looks up at Jongdae.

“Yeah, it seemed fitting.” Jongdae grins. “Could be worse. I coulda called it ‘daddy.’”

“Oh, jesus,” Junmyeon groans, resting the back of his hand over his eyes. Jongdae watches him bite his lip and try not to squirm too much while Jongdae pulls at his dick, wrist flicking back and forth.

“Feels much better than doing it yourself, right?” Jongdae uses his free hand to roll Junmyeon’s balls across his palm.

Junmyeon sucks in a gasp through his nose when Jongdae’s thumb drags across the tip, smearing a string of precome down the slit. “Your hands feel so good,” he moans, curling his fingers in the rumpled blanket beneath him.

Jongdae loves hearing Junmyeon come undone. There’s something so satisfying about seeing his straightlaced, preppy boyfriend go off the rails in bed; Jongdae’s already consumed with lust, and seeing Junmyeon like this only intensifies the feeling. The last time they were together like this, it was quick and hurried, getting each other off in the shower before Junmyeon had to go line up for commencement. Now they’ve got all the time in the world, two whole weeks to do nothing but relax and enjoy each other, with time for a proper goodbye at the end.

Goodbye. Jongdae pushes the thought out of his mind and leans down to fit his mouth over the head of Junmyeon’s cock without warning. His tongue drags over the tip, lapping up the trail of precome, and he hums when one of Junmyeon’s hands finds its way into his hair, fingers tangling into the messy strands. Jongdae peers up through his eyelashes when Junmyeon moans, his own cock hardening at the sight of Junmyeon’s lip between his teeth, his chest heaving as he inhales sharply.

Junmyeon is beautiful like this, strung out on pleasure, uninhibited. Seeing him this way feels like a privilege, like he’s the only person who can let Junmyeon just be. Jongdae likes to tease him, but it’s the only way he knows how to tell Junmyeon that he can let go once in a while, that he doesn’t need to be the Kim Junmyeon he is to everyone else when he’s with Jongdae.

Jongdae drops his jaw and takes Junmyeon deeper, bobbing his head and letting his tongue swirl back and forth along the shaft, relishing every little breathy moan and puff of air that comes out of Junmyeon’s mouth.

“Jongdae,” Junmyeon says breathlessly, and hearing his name said like that will never not sound like the sweetest thing, “Jongdae, I’m gonna--”

Jongdae hums in understanding, pulling back on Junmyeon’s cock and sucking at the head until Junmyeon releases into his mouth with a rough cry. Jongdae swallows, tongue tracing gently around the tip before he pulls off of Junmyeon’s cock with a soft popping sound. He tugs Junmyeon’s underwear up enough to tuck him in, then curls up next to Junmyeon, propping his chin on Junmyeon’s chest.

Junmyeon lies there for a moment with his eyes closed, then lets his head fall to the side, cracking an eye open to look at Jongdae. His mouth quirks up in a smile, and Jongdae wiggles closer to kiss him. Junmyeon’s tongue trails along the seam of Jongdae’s mouth, and Jongdae parts his lips, letting his own tongue slide over Junmyeon’s.

“I like a man who’ll kiss me after I blow him,” Jongdae says when they kiss away from each other, settling his cheek on Junmyeon’s chest again. “You’re a good guy. I’m gonna hang onto you for a while.”

“Yeah?” Junmyeon grins, rolling onto his side and tugging Jongdae in closer, nuzzling at his cheek. “That’s good to hear.” He kisses Jongdae on the mouth, brief but sweet, and lets his hand drift lower on Jongdae’s hip. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe later,” Jongdae says, catching his hand and lacing their fingers together. “How about lunch? I’m starving.”

“What, this wasn’t enough for you?” Junmyeon smirks.

“Well, it’s like I said,” Jongdae says slowly, the glint in his eyes slowly turning wicked. “I always save room for dessert.”



Junmyeon returns the favor the next morning, disappearing beneath the covers to take care of Jongdae’s morning wood just as he starts to wake up. Jongdae pushes the covers back so he can properly enjoy the sight of Junmyeon’s messy bedhead bobbing up and down on his cock, his plush pink lips stretched around the head. It doesn’t take Jongdae long to come like that, his back arching off the mattress with a scratchy moan. Junmyeon tucks him back into the slit in his boxers and wipes away a trail of come streaking down his chin with a thumb, licking the remnants from it before settling down over Jongdae’s body and yanking the covers back up over them.

The best part of waking up,” Jongdae sings in a sleepy, creaky voice, hooking his ankles around the back of Junmyeon’s knees and pulling him close, “is your mouth on my dick!

“You should definitely get a job writing jingles,” Junmyeon deadpans, resting his cheek just over Jongdae’s heart.

“It’s probably all I can get with a B.A. in English,” Jongdae sighs, carding his fingers through Junmyeon’s hair, which is sticking out in about five different directions. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Junmyeon says. “I’m not looking forward to job searching, either. I should have just gone for my masters right away.”

“Nah.” Jongdae drops a hand to Junmyeon’s face, running his thumb along Junmyeon’s cheekbone while Junmyeon kisses his palm. “You were so burnt out this year, you need a break. I still don’t know why you’re doing this summer program this year. If I were you, I’d just sleep for a year and then think about school again.”

“You know me.” Junmyeon’s voice is muffled against Jongdae’s t-shirt, but he can still hear his slightly self-deprecating tone. “I’m not happy unless I’m burning the candle at both ends.”

“Have I taught you nothing in the past three months?” Jongdae laughs. “Clearly we haven’t spent enough time together, my laziness hasn’t rubbed off on you.”

“I wish we could have,” Junmyeon says, suddenly sounding a little somber. “Spent more time together, I mean. I was so busy working on my thesis and dealing with RA stuff the whole year, plus all the other stuff I was involved in. I feel like… it’s so cruel that we only got together right before I graduated, and you still have a year left. I’m not going to see you every day anymore, it’s just…” He looks up at Jongdae through his eyelashes and sighs. “Blurgh.

“Hey,” Jongdae says softly, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got Skype, and FaceTime, and texting, and I’m living with Yixing next year and I know he would love to have you visit. And I can take the train up to New York from Philly, or from school, if you end up getting a job after your summer program.” He lifts his hands to clutch Junmyeon’s face, bringing him in for a hard kiss on the mouth. “It sucks, yeah. But we’ll make it work.”

Junmyeon just looks at him in a way that makes his heart literally skip a beat (I should get that checked out, he thinks), then pushes himself up to sit between Jongdae’s legs. “You want some breakfast?” He glances at the clock on the nightstand. “Well, brunch, anyway. I thought I’d make french toast.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Jongdae sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, leaning over to catch Junmyeon’s lips again before standing and shuffling toward the window in his socks. He leans against the sill and looks out to see the sun glimmering on the water rippling toward the shore. “I can’t believe people live here all year round, this place is ridiculous.”

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Junmyeon slides his arms around Jongdae’s waist and props his chin on Jongdae’s shoulder. “Wanna go out on the water today? We could take the boat out this afternoon, go sailing a little.”

“Of course you have a boat,” Jongdae says, laughing.

“It’s one of those family investments,” Junmyeon protests. “My dad and my uncles went in on it together, so everyone uses it when we’re down here.” He kisses Jongdae’s neck, sending a little shiver down his spine. “Hey, what are your feelings on fishing? We could catch some stripers or something for dinner!”

Jongdae cranes his neck to look at Junmyeon over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched. “You fish?”

Junmyeon nods. “When I’m here, yeah. Have you ever been? It’s kinda boring if you don’t have anyone to talk to, but it’ll be better since there’s two of us.”

Jongdae’s still skeptical, until Junmyeon wheedles, “I’ll bring snacks… and beer.”

“Good man,” Jongdae says, patting his hand before clasping it and tugging him toward the door. “French toast and day drinking. God, I don’t deserve you.”



“I’M ON A BOAT, MOTHERFUCKER!” Jongdae howls from the stern, clutching the sailboat’s railings. Junmyeon laughs from behind him, having let the sails down a bit so the boat doesn’t move as quickly while they’re fishing. Their rods are set up against the railings, the lines baited with flashy lures to attract unsuspecting fish.

“You’re going to scare the fish,” Junmyeon complains, wrapping his arms around Jongdae’s waist from behind.

Jongdae flings his arms out and leans back against Junmyeon’s chest. “Do the Titanic thing! Yoooooou’re heeeeeere, there’s nooooooothing I fear--

“I’m gonna drop you off this boat like the old lady did to the necklace,” Junmyeon threatens playfully, lifting his arms to hold Jongdae’s hands anyway. “We’ve been out here for half an hour and you’ve already got sea madness, what am I going to do with you?”

“Haul me into the cabin and punish me for disobeying the captain?” Jongdae grins, looking over his shoulder at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon smirks. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Immensely.” Jongdae turns around in Junmyeon’s arms, sliding his hands into Junmyeon’s back pockets and giving his asscheeks a squeeze. “I’ve been a terrible first mate and I need to be put in my place.”

Junmyeon’s hands slide down the swoop of Jongdae’s back and into his pockets as well. He leans his forehead against Jongdae’s, smiling. “You are insatiable.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so hot all the time, asshole,” Jongdae retorts, sticking his hips out to rub his body against Junmyeon’s. “Looking like you walked out of a J. Crew catalog, with your dumb windblown sex hair and your stupid muscular arms and the fact that you know how to sail a boat and gut a fish and probably a whole bunch of other wilderness crap. Ugh. You suck.”

“You’re doing that thing again,” Junmyeon snickers, patting Jongdae’s ass fondly. “Lu Han told me you used to do this all the time, complaining about me instead of just admitting you liked me. Like a third-grader.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still your fault.” Jongdae’s face scrunches up in embarrassment and annoyance. “Lu Han is such a shit,” he adds, wiggling like a kid who’s about to throw a tantrum. “Next year will be so much more relaxing without him, ugh.”

“You’re cute when you get like this,” Junmyeon laughs. “You’re lucky, usually whining doesn’t work on me, but there’s just something about you that makes it hard to say no.”

“Just another reason why we’re perfect together, I guess,” Jongdae says, his voice returning to normal. He digs his fingers into Junmyeon’s cheeks, bucking his hips into Junmyeon’s. “You ready, cap’n?”

Junmyeon bites down on his lower lip and closes his eyes, groaning low in his throat. “I’m assuming you came prepared?”

Jongdae eases one hand out of Junmyeon’s pocket to reach behind himself and lift his backpack up from one of the deck chairs, hitching a strap over one shoulder. “What else were those three years in Boy Scouts good for?”

Junmyeon drags one hand out of Jongdae’s pocket, curling it around the back of his neck to draw him in for a kiss as he starts to walk the two of them backwards, carefully stepping down the short staircase into the cabin. When they’re on flat ground again, Jongdae lets go of Junmyeon long enough to toss his backpack on the small camp bed in the corner and unzip his hoodie, shrugging it off his shoulders and leaving it on the round table bolted to the floor.

“Just a warning,” Junmyeon murmurs between kisses, pushing Jongdae’s t-shirt up with his thumbs, “that bed is really tiny.”

“You’re in luck,” Jongdae replies, making quick work of the buttons on Junmyeon’s oxford shirt. He bumps Junmyeon’s forearms out of the way with his own, tugging the shirt down from his shoulders so he can start to pull Junmyeon’s undershirt up and over his head. “So am I.”

“Not where it matters,” Junmyeon quips, head popping out of his shirt. He helps Jongdae get his shirt off, and Jongdae shudders when Junmyeon’s thumbs brush against his nipples in the process, his head tipping back with a little moan.

Junmyeon lets Jongdae’s t-shirt slip out of his fingers and onto the floor, then drops his hands to Jongdae’s hips, pushing him with enough force that he falls back onto the bed, his legs hanging off the end. Jongdae kicks off his ratty chucks and starts on his shorts while Junmyeon steps out of his boat shoes and unfastens his belt. Their shorts and underwear join the shirts on the floor soon enough, and Jongdae’s already breathing too fast when Junmyeon crawls between his knees and takes a good long look at him.

“What?” Jongdae curls in on himself a bit, suddenly feeling a little too scrutinized.

Junmyeon just smooths his hands up Jongdae’s thighs. “Nothing. Just enjoying the view.” He shifts his weight forward, planting his hands on the bed on either side of Jongdae’s ribs and brushing his lips down the side of Jongdae’s neck. “It’s been a while. I’m trying to decide where I want to touch you first.”

Jongdae feels like his dick has suddenly turned to granite. “May I suggest my penis,” he offers delicately.

Junmyeon chuckles lowly against his skin and lifts his face to take Jongdae’s earlobe between his teeth, flicking at it with his tongue. Jongdae sinks into the pillow with a shaky sigh, his right leg falling to the side and dangling off the bed. He settles his hands on Junmyeon’s hips, fingertips digging in just where the small of his back meets the swell of his ass. Junmyeon’s breath hitches in his ear, and Jongdae feels his mouth trailing back down his neck, licking and sucking marks into the thin skin.

“I didn’t know I was going to need a turtleneck,” Jongdae laughs in a breathless voice, tipping his head back to give Junmyeon more room to roam. He keeps kneading Junmyeon’s ass with one hand while the other drags up his back and around his chest, fingertips playing across a pebbly nipple.

“I don’t want you to cover them up,” Junmyeon murmurs, trailing off into a hum and pushing his chest out against Jongdae’s hand. He switches to the other side of Jongdae’s neck, fitting his mouth over Jongdae’s pulse and sucking the skin back against his teeth, tongue laving the pink spot after he releases it from his grip. “I don’t care if people stare at you. I want them to know you’re mine.”

The last sentence is whispered directly into his ear, and a whimper escapes Jongdae’s mouth of its own volition, his voice breathier than normal when he gasps “Jesus” and digs his (albeit short) fingernails into Junmyeon’s ass, tugging him down to make their cocks rub together. He bucks up into Junmyeon and flings his arm out, blindly grabbing for his backpack and unzipping it once he makes contact, fumbling around for the lube he’d stashed inside. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he draws back and nudges at Junmyeon’s cheek with his nose, tilting his face enough to capture his mouth. Junmyeon’s mouth opens immediately, and Jongdae licks into his mouth with practiced ease, little gasps and moans swallowed by the smack of wet lips.

“Junmyeon,” Jongdae breathes between frantic kisses, pawing at Junmyeon’s face and hair, “oh, god-- you know I love foreplay, but I-- mmmph-- need you in me, like, five minutes ago.”

Junmyeon nods, panting into Jongdae’s neck, and reaches for the lube, but Jongdae keeps it just out of reach, pushing Junmyeon onto his back and clambering into his lap instead.

“You’re not going dry,” Junmyeon says, and it’s only partially a question.

“Fuck no.” Jongdae has the pain tolerance of a four-year-old. “I just thought you might enjoy a little show, that’s all.”

Junmyeon’s mouth falls open into a little ‘o’, and he relaxes, sinking back into the mattress. Jongdae pops the cap on the lube and squeezes a thick stripe of clear gel on his index finger, sucking in a breath and exhaling it completely before reaching behind himself and spreading the liquid along the cleft of his asscheeks and around his hole. He traces his finger around the pucker of skin, warming the gel before he blows out another breath and pushes inside, circling his finger.

It’s a little weird; he hasn’t done this in a while, and never for Junmyeon. He likes the feel of Junmyeon’s fingers inside of him, thicker than his own, strong but gentle, knowing exactly where to press and rub to get Jongdae howling for his cock. But the look on Junmyeon’s face makes it easier to get into a rhythm, tongue pressing against his teeth as he fucks himself open with one finger, then two, and another squeezing in with the aid of a little more lube. Junmyeon starts to stroke himself after Jongdae adds the second finger, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every whine Jongdae chokes out.

“I’m good,” Jongdae says finally, withdrawing his fingers and clenching around empty air. He wipes his fingers on the bedspread (which is sort of old and worn out anyway, thankfully) and scoots back, leaning over the side of the bed to snatch a condom out of his bag. He sits up again and tears open the foil packaging, pulling out a bright red roll of latex.

“You bought flavored ones?” Junmyeon pants out a laugh, sitting up on his elbows.

“Mmm, cherry,” Jongdae hums, tucking the tip gently between his teeth and fisting the base of Junmyeon’s cock to keep it steady. He lowers his face over the head, carefully positioning the condom before relaxing his jaw and using his lips to slowly roll it down over the head of Junmyeon’s dick, his hand rolling it down the rest of the shaft. He locks eyes with Junmyeon as he swirls his tongue around the tip, lapping up artificial cherry-flavored lube, and comes off it with a little smacking sound, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb before he turns himself around, getting on all fours for Junmyeon. He glances over his shoulder and wiggles his ass like a cat readying itself to pounce. “You ready?”

“You are the most shameless creature I have ever known,” Junmyeon groans, hauling himself up and between Jongdae’s knees. Jongdae hears the click and squirt of lube, Junmyeon slicking himself up a little more before he lays a light smack to the flesh of Jongdae’s ass as he lines himself up. Jongdae exhales in anticipation just as Junmyeon thrusts into him, burying himself inside, hips flush against his backside.

It hasn’t been more than maybe three weeks since the last time Junmyeon was inside him, but it feels like it’s been years. There’s nothing that can replace this feeling: the pulse beating inside of him, the hands gripping his hips, the bitten-off cries falling from Junmyeon’s mouth and burrowing into Jongdae’s skin. Junmyeon rocks into him slowly at first, deep thrusts that make Jongdae feel every inch of him, but his pace increases as muscle memory and sheer need take over, sweat-sheened skin slapping together as Junmyeon takes him faster.

Suddenly the hands disappear from his hips and fingers clutch his upper arms instead, pulling him up and back against Junmyeon’s chest. “Shit,” Jongdae barks, half laughing as Junmyeon nudges him in the direction of the cabin wall, which Jongdae braces himself against, scooting forward. “God, it’s fucking hot when you do that.”

“Do what?” Junmyeon slings an arm around his chest to steady him as he thrusts shallowly into Jongdae, mouthing at his neck while he wraps his other hand around Jongdae’s erection, eliciting a moan and a thunk as Jongdae’s forehead falls against the cabin wall.

“Throw me around like I’m nothing,” Jongdae gasps, turning his head so his cheek presses against the cool paneling. Whimpers fall unbidden from his lips as the change in angle pushes Junmyeon’s cock right into his prostate, the sounds morphing into moans when Junmyeon’s teeth press into his shoulder and his thumb rubs circles around the head of Jongdae’s dick.

Junmyeon’s tongue drags across the bite marks and his fingers on Jongdae’s chest start to circle his nipple while his other hand pulls rhythmically at Jongdae’s cock. “You,” Junmyeon mumbles into his skin, punctuating his words with hot, open-mouthed kisses along the slope of Jongdae’s shoulder, “are everything.”

It’s so hard to hold himself up when Junmyeon says things like this, making Jongdae’s chest swell with heat, his hips driving back to meet Junmyeon’s thrusts. He can feel himself starting to unwind; Junmyeon always knows exactly how to bring him to the brink, and he’d be embarrassed that it tends to happen so quickly if he weren’t overwhelmed by how much his body craves Junmyeon.

“You’re perfect,” Junmyeon breathes, his face close to Jongdae’s ear now. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His tongue flicks out against the shell of Jongdae’s ear as his hand twists up to the head of Jongdae’s cock, and Jongdae muffles a wail in the crook of his elbow. “I don’t-- think-- you understand,” he chokes between rolls of his hips, “how much I-- how much I need you.”

For a split second Jongdae thinks that need was supposed to be another word, which scares him and yet turns him on even more, and he reaches a hand down to still the hand on his cock. “Fuck, hang on, I’m gonna come--”

Junmyeon pulls out and Jongdae’s thighs nearly give out on him, but he manages to clamber onto his back, legs spreading and ankles hooking behind Junmyeon’s back when he crawls over him and re-enters. Somehow they always end up finishing like this, kissing hungrily and watching each other come. It’s never planned, never discussed, but still an unspoken sort of rule. Jongdae’s lower back lifts off the bed with every rock of Junmyeon’s hips; he can see the base of Junmyeon’s cock disappearing into him with every bend of his spine, and his own dick throbs.

He smears the sticky string of precome down the shaft and starts to jerk himself in time with Junmyeon’s quickening thrusts, head sinking into the pillow and mouth open in a silent groan of pleasure. Junmyeon’s nose bumps his as he lowers his face for a kiss, his hips swiveling and grinding against Jongdae’s hole, and Jongdae knows he’s close. Jongdae clutches the back of Junmyeon’s neck with his free hand and drags him down for a sloppy kiss, all clacking teeth and slick lips and tongues. Jongdae sucks Junmyeon’s lower lip into his mouth, hears his breath hitch, and then he’s groaning low into Jongdae’s mouth, hips slowing as he rides out his orgasm.

Jongdae’s still stroking himself when Junmyeon pulls out and replaces his cock with his fingers, trailing shaky kisses along Jongdae’s jawline and cheekbones as the pads of his fingers press into and drag over his prostate. Jongdae arches off the bed into Junmyeon’s chest with a broken cry as he spurts between them, come dripping down over his fist and in slow lazy trails down his wrist and Junmyeon’s abdomen. Junmyeon works him through it until Jongdae tenses around the fingers inside him and releases the grip on his cock with a shuddering sigh. Junmyeon withdraws and rolls his condom off, tying it closed and tossing it in the direction of the wastebasket. (He misses. Jongdae laughs.)

Jongdae eases his aching legs onto the mattress and Junmyeon flops over at his side. It’s a tight fit, two grown men on a twin bed built for someone about six inches shorter than the two of them, but Jongdae’s curls up so tightly into Junmyeon’s side that it’s almost not an issue.

“This was one of my better ideas,” Jongdae says sleepily, completely fucked out. Junmyeon slides an arm around his shoulders and he rolls in closer, nuzzling Junmyeon’s chest.

“I am never going to be able to look at this bed the same way,” Junmyeon says. Sticky fingers come to rest on Jongdae’s hip. “Remind me to strip the linens and take them back to the house so nobody asks me any questions later.”

Jongdae taps his temple with the hand that isn’t covered in lube and jizz. “Noted.”

They’re quiet for a moment, until Junmyeon gasps and Jongdae looks up at him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit, what if the fish yanked the poles over the deck?” Junmyeon makes to sit up, but Jongdae flings his arm out to push him back down.

“That is not a good enough excuse to get off this bed,” Jongdae says firmly, and Junmyeon relents, smiling into his hair as Jongdae clings to him. “You know the rules.”

“I could never have anticipated just how serious you are about cuddling,” Junmyeon says, his tone one of amusement. He rubs his cheek against Jongdae’s. “It’s not like you’re starved for affection or anything.”

“I am invoking boyfriend privileges,” Jongdae says, lips curling down stubbornly. “Cuddling is in my contract.”

“Well,” Junmyeon says, kissing the pout from his lips. “I wouldn’t want to violate the terms of our agreement.”

“Good.” Jongdae rolls over onto his other side and Junmyeon curls around him with a possessive hand across his chest, spooning him. While Jongdae’s college hookups satisfied his primal need to eat dick and get fucked, there was rarely much in the way of post-coital snuggling. Drunk cuddling with Baekhyun? Sure. Falling asleep on Lu Han’s living room floor with Yixing sprawled over his stomach, drooling into his t-shirt? All the time. But proper, clothing-optional spooning? Not so much. Jongdae’s taking his kicks where he can get them. But he knows Junmyeon enjoys it, too, and that’s what makes it so good. Sure, there’s sex - ridiculously good sex - but for Jongdae, the fact that Junmyeon doesn’t mind when he falls asleep on him, sweating and covered in come, is worth more than an orgasm.

Jongdae wipes his hand on the comforter again before leaning over to reach into his backpack again, this time pulling out his phone. He taps his PIN into the lock screen and rolls back over, tapping the camera app.

“What are you doing?” Junmyeon’s eyes are closed. He nudges at the back of Jongdae’s head with his nose, kissing the protrusion of bone just behind his ear.

Jongdae lifts his arm to get them both in the frame. “Say cheese.”

“What--” The shutter clicks loudly. “Jongdae.

“There’s nothing naughty showing, don’t worry.” Jongdae bites his lip to hold back a grin when he rolls over and sees Junmyeon looking at him rather sternly. Jongdae kisses his nose in an attempt to placate him. “I just wanted some mementos of my vacation. You know… for personal uses… in case I miss you…”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He rolls onto his back and leans his head against Jongdae’s on the pillow. “Take the picture.”

Click. Jongdae brings the phone closer to his face to examine the photo. He’s got a cheesy grin on his face, while Junmyeon’s expression is a little more subdued but no less genuine.

“One more?” Jongdae asks, and Junmyeon obliges, leaning in to kiss Jongdae’s cheek just as Jongdae clicks the button, laughing.

“That’s a good one,” Junmyeon murmurs, peering over Jongdae’s shoulder at the screen. His lips graze the curve of Jongdae’s neck. “I’m gonna clean up, all right?”

“Mmhmm.” Jongdae spreads out on the bed when Junmyeon crawls over him to get off the bed, stooping to grab his underwear before he ducks into the cabin toilet.

Click.

Junmyeon stops just before the door and slowly cranes his head around to look at Jongdae, who puts on his best shit-eating grin and tries not to scream too loudly when Junmyeon catapults himself onto the bed and tickles him into oblivion.



MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
hey loser hows the honeymoon

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
have you gone skinnydipping under the stars yet

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
wow you sound jealous, u mad that youre stuck in a kennel all summer and i had sex on a boat the other day?

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
and no skinnydipping bc jm doesnt like sand in his ass

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
bitch

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
ew jd come on tmi

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
this coming from the guy who told me he once got drunk and sucked on chanyeol’s toes

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
and i regret that

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
both the telling and the fact that chanyeol accidentally kicked me in the face when i did it

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
are you sure it was an accident

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
are you tho

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
>:|

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
hehehe love you best buddy

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
yeah yeah

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
send me pics so i can live vicariously through you and pretend that i did not just get peed on by a nervous chihuahua

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
[attachment.jpg]

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
i meant a picture of the beach or something asshole

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
i have my own hot boyfriend in case you forgot, did jm literally fuck your brains out

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
does he know youre sending me pics of his butt

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
[attachment2.jpg]

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
well what he doesn’t know won’t kill him

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
but if he finds out i’ll kill you :) ❤

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
noted

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
pretty beach, nicer than the jersey shore for sure ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
tell junmyeon i said you dont deserve him or his sailboat or his private beach

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
and somehow everyone thinks IM the mean one in this friendship of ours

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
(✿◠‿◠)

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
i have to go, break’s over. pray 4 me, i already had to throw out one pair of sneakers since this internship started

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
its cool, we’re just abt to head to the museum. godspeed wrt yr shoes. tell the puppies i love them and steal a kitten for me

MESSAGE FROM: Byun Baekhyun
hahahahhahahahahahah NO. have fun, dont get kicked out for public indecency! hehehe later~

MESSAGE TO: Byun Baekhyun
ttyl pal




“‘No, I’m fine, I don’t need more sunscreen,’ you said.” It’s the second week of Jongdae’s vacation, and Junmyeon’s shaking his head as he stands over Jongdae, who is lying on the living room carpet, moaning into a pillow. “‘I was only in the water for half an hour, it couldn’t have washed off.’”

“Shut uuuuuup,” Jongdae whimpers, his naked back angry red beneath a coat of washcloths soaked in ice water. “Oh my god, it hurts. Junmyeon. Junmyeon. Help. I need you to chop me in half so it stops hurting.”

Junmyeon sits down next to him, and Jongdae looks over at him the best he can without actually moving. Junmyeon puts down the supplies gathered in his arms: a tube of aloe vera ointment, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, and a bottle of ibuprofen. Jongdae muffles a groan in the carpeting when Junmyeon gingerly peels the washcloths away from his back, his skin radiating heat and pain in the absence of the damp fabric.

“You’re going to be peeling for weeks,” Junmyeon sighs, squeezing a sizeable glob of aloe gel onto Jongdae’s back and spreading it around with his fingertips in slow, careful circles. “Does this feel any better?”

Jongdae can’t stop the moan that grinds out of his throat. “Oh god, don’t stop, that’s amazing.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Junmyeon says, and Jongdae can hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you think you can get up if I help you?”

“Maybe--” Jongdae starts to push himself up with his hands, but every bend of his vertebrae makes him want to scream. Junmyeon sees him grimacing and catches him by the elbows, pulling him up onto his knees and against his chest to balance him. Jongdae flings his arms around Junmyeon’s shoulders and groans. “Help.

Junmyeon’s hands find his hips and Jongdae braces himself against Junmyeon’s shoulders enough that he can stand without crying. Once he’s steady, Junmyeon ducks to grab the water and painkillers, passing Jongdae the bottle while he pours a few pills into his hand.

“Four ought to take the edge off for now,” Junmyeon says, dropping the pills into Jongdae’s outstretched palm.

“Oooh, twice the recommended dosage.” Jongdae tries his best to look scandalized, although he tosses back the pills and chugs half the bottle of water anyway. “I didn’t know I was dating a pill pusher.”

Junmyeon just stares at him. “Ha ha.” He ducks down to grab the aloe, ice pack, and washcloths, and nods toward the stairs. “Come on, let’s get some ice on that burn.”

They’re slow going up the steps, but soon Jongdae’s faceplanting on the plush comforter in Junmyeon’s bedroom, body sprawled at an angle on the mattress. The bed sinks down further when Junmyeon sits down next to him and layers the washcloths on his back again, setting the bag of ice on top.

“That feels so good,” Jongdae whimpers pitifully, and Junmyeon stretches out next to him, petting his hair. Jongdae turns his head, pushing into the touch, and sticks his lower lip out. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Junmyeon smiles and shifts the icepack down toward Jongdae’s lower back, then sits up. “We’re going to be here for a while, I think. Wanna watch a movie? Maybe by the time it’s over you’ll feel less like you’re going to die.”

Jongdae nods into the blanket and Junmyeon wanders off to get his laptop, leaving Jongdae wondering what exactly he did to deserve someone like Junmyeon.



It takes a couple of days for Jongdae to be able to put a t-shirt on without crying. He’s kind of pissed at himself that he’s taken up a quarter of his vacation hanging around the house (even though it rained on one of those days, so it wasn’t totally his fault), but playing board games and watching movies and wheedling Junmyeon into buying way too much ice cream is kind of worth it. He discovers that Junmyeon really is a pro at Scrabble, that he’ll eat cookies and cream ice cream until he’s sick to his stomach, and that he cries through the ending of Return of the King every time he watches it.

“They’re never going to see each other again,” he chokes in protest when Jongdae starts needling him about his watery eyes. “It’s sad!

“Awwww,” Jongdae croons, snuggling up next to Junmyeon on the couch and rubbing his arm. “Are you getting emotional because I’m leaving in a couple days?”

Junmyeon glances at him forlornly, and Jongdae’s heart swells. He sits up and crawls into Junmyeon’s lap, blocking his view of the laptop. He clutches Junmyeon’s face, thumbs compulsively stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t. Not yet. You can be depressed after I get on the plane.”

Junmyeon sighs and winds his arms around Jongdae’s waist, blinking hard to clear his eyes. His eyelashes are stuck together with moisture. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t mope, not while you’re still here.”

“It’s okay,” Jongdae says, dropping his hands to Junmyeon’s shoulders and looping his arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. He kisses Junmyeon’s cheek and burrows his face into Junmyeon’s neck. “I just wish I could make you less preoccupied.” He draws back enough to glance out the French doors; the sun is just starting to go down. He scratches gently at the nape of Junmyeon’s neck and eases himself off Junmyeon’s lap. “Let’s go outside.”

“You don’t want to finish the movie?”

Jongdae closes the laptop with a little smirk. “You’ve seen it, like, three hundred times. The ending isn’t gonna change, Junmyeonnie.”

Junmyeon swats at him and Jongdae dodges, cackling. He ducks into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers from the fridge, and then he’s out the back door, Junmyeon close behind. Jongdae parks himself on the stony ledge separating the back yard from the steps leading down to the beach, legs dangling over the edge. He passes Junmyeon a beer when they’re settled hip-to-hip, twisting it open and taking a long drink.

“This is the life,” Jongdae sighs, setting his beer down on the ledge and propping his chin on Junmyeon’s shoulder.

Junmyeon sets his beer down and drapes his arm around Jongdae’s shoulders. He turns his head just enough to rub his nose against Jongdae’s forehead. “Sometimes I wish we could just stay here forever.”

“I thought you were excited about your thing,” Jongdae mumbles, grinding his chin into Junmyeon’s t-shirt.

“I am,” Junmyeon says, “I just-- bleh.”

“You’re in such a funk today,” Jongdae comments, lifting his head and sifting his hand through Junmyeon’s hair. “What’s wrong?” He bites his lip. “Look, I’m sorry for getting sunburned, I know it must have interfered with your plans and I totally get it if you’re upset--”

“Jongdae, no,” Junmyeon cuts him off, grasping his wrist. “You know I didn’t have any plans, I just wanted you to be here with me. I wouldn’t care if we spent the whole time sightseeing or sleeping or power-washing the house, as long as we were together.”

“Okay,” Jongdae says, wriggling his hand out of Junmyeon’s grasp so he can tangle their fingers together properly. “What’s got you down, then?”

Junmyeon falls back on the grass and closes his eyes. “Everything. Where my life is going. What my parents think I should be doing. How much I’m going to miss you. How I’m scared you’re going to leave and I can’t tell you--”

“Tell me what?” Jongdae says, suddenly feeling a little anxious himself. He gulps down half of his beer in anticipation, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Junmyeon covers his face, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Nothing.”

Junmyeon.” Jongdae sprawls out over Junmyeon’s chest, fingers curling into his shirt. “Can you just tell me whatever you want to tell me before I start freaking out? Are you trying to break up with me or something?”

“No, I’m trying to tell you I love you,” Junmyeon blurts out, letting his arms flop onto the grass at his sides. He opens his eyes, and Jongdae can see fear mingled with adoration and maybe a hint of desperation in them.

Jongdae rests his head on Junmyeon’s chest, his own chest warm and full. He can hear Junmyeon’s heart pitter-pattering under his ear, and he smiles. “You had me worried for a second, there.”

Jongdae.

Jongdae laughs and clambers on top of Junmyeon, kicking Junmyeon’s beer off the ledge in the process. He has the decency to look at least a little apologetic as he pushes Junmyeon’s hair back from his forehead. “You can breathe easy,” Jongdae murmurs, tenderly touching his lips to Junmyeon’s in a brief kiss. They’re still close when the kiss ends, just enough distance between their lips that Junmyeon can still hear Jongdae when he whispers, “I love you, too.”

Jongdae’s not expecting the crushing embrace Junmyeon greets his reply with, and he goes limp in Junmyeon’s arms with a little oof.

“Loving-- too hard-- can’t breathe,” Jongdae stammers, and Junmyeon laughs, that gorgeous, cheerful laugh ringing out into the evening air. He releases his hold on Jongdae and starts to push himself up. Jongdae makes to roll into the grass, but Junmyeon wraps an arm around his waist to keep him in his lap and tilts his face up with two fingers for another kiss. Jongdae responds with a delighted little noise in the back of his throat, a thrill of heat running back and forth along his ribs. He kisses away with a series of short, playful pecks, crossing his wrists behind Junmyeon’s neck. “Feel better now?”

“Still nervous about life,” Junmyeon allows, his fingers dragging up and down Jongdae’s spine, “but less nervous about you, so…” He lowers his hands to Jongdae’s waist and meets his eyes. “I’m glad I have you, Jongdae. I really don’t know what I’d do without you, seriously.”

Jongdae feels like his lungs are about to burst. “Tell that to Baekhyun, maybe he’ll stop telling me what a bad friend I am.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, Jongdae.”

“I know.” Jongdae bites his lip in penitence. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be flip, I just don’t know what to say sometimes.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Junmyeon’s. “In all seriousness, though, it means a lot to me that you feel that way. And I meant it when I said it back, you know.” He lets the tips of their noses rub together. “I do love you.”

Jongdae feels Junmyeon’s lips curl into a smile against his cheek, and then Junmyeon’s tapping his side. “Hey, look, the sun’s setting.”

Jongdae climbs off of Junmyeon’s lap and reaches for his beer bottle, offering it to Junmyeon in lieu of his own while he gets settled, one knee drawn in toward his chest while the other dangles over the ledge.

“I feel like I’m in a rom-com,” Jongdae murmurs, taking the bottle of Sam Adams when Junmyeon passes it back to him. “Exchanging words of love by a beach as the sun sets. Doesn’t get much more Hollywood than that.”

“In my defense, you dragged me out here and wheedled it out of me,” Junmyeon chuckles.

“I know, I know, it’s my own damn fault.” Jongdae hides a grin in the mouth of his beer bottle as the last sliver of sun disappears into the ocean and the red-orange glow in the sky begins to fade into violet-blue shadows. He nudges Junmyeon, giving him the last of his beer. “You wanna order a pizza and consummate our love while we wait for it to show up?”

Junmyeon nearly chokes on the last swig of summer ale, sputtering out a laugh, but he gets up anyway, giving Jongdae a hand. “It’ll take them at least half an hour,” he says, mulling it over, but the pizza’s forgotten when Jongdae tugs his shirt over his head and saunters toward the house.

Junmyeon throws him over his shoulder and takes him into the house flailing and giggling, and Jongdae can’t even feel his sunburn.



author’s note: THIS IS SO SELF-INDULGENT I’M SO SORRY!!! but you know me, i love slice-of-life, flimsy-excuse-for-a-bonefest fic. you know those pornos where someone orders a pizza and the delivery boy shows up and opens the pizza box and there’s a hole cut in it for his dick and then they fuck??? yeah that’s pm everything i write

this is the house they are staying in. it is so beautiful i want to cry. someday when i’m super rich i, too, would like to stay in a beach house that costs $13,000 A WEEK. i know i said in out of my league that junmyeon’s dad is a professor (political science at BU) and his mom is a former teacher, but just to clarify: junmyeon’s dad writes books and does speaking engagements, which nets him a fair amount of money, so that’s how the family affords these ridiculous vacations. regular professors make jack shit, at least in america.

sleep stripping is a real thing. one time in college i woke up with my pajama pants nowhere to be found (well, they were on the floor, i discovered later), and it was definitely not a result of foul play. i just get way too hot when i sleep. (like, need the fan on blast in the middle of january hot. it’s ridiculous.)

the title comes from lorde’s “400 lux,” my favorite song from pure heroine, which you should all download. i can’t stop listening to it!!
Tags: fic: exo, length: oneshot, pairing: jundae, rating: nc17
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