#He wiggled his little leggies when off the ground!
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Mini spoiler, but only from an unimportant segment in the finale of Echoes of Wisdom
The part where you have to help Link get to the button that's higher up....
I just watched PointCrow's playthrough and he gave Link the Platboom to jump on and get to the button...
.....
....
I just grabbed Link via bind and lifted him up there đ
Okay, but now I'm curious if his pathing would recognize if I put down water blocks for him to swim up...? đ€ I gotta go to an earlier save file and try that!
#He wiggled his little leggies when off the ground!#Link I'm so sorry đ#The Legend of Zelda#Echoes of Wisdom#loz#eow spoilers#Aome's Gaming Adventures
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The Legends always forgot how quiet he could be...
It was partly his doing, of course. When in the arena, he disengaged his shock absorbers fifteen percent so his teammates would hear him, clanking and clattering along beside them like some two-bit MRVN. That way, they knew where to look for him when shouting about their foes. They wouldnât jump at a crucial moment and miss their shot just because he spoke aloud. He liked when they jumped â didnât like when he died because the enemy was still alive. So, he made himself audible.
And they forgot he could be silent.
Nights like this, where they were all aboard the ship, heading to a far-off arena in a journey that would take the better part of a day and a half, he wore that silence like an old, well-used coat. He was bored, bored, bored, and if he couldnât kill any of his so-called companions until they got to the games, heâd settle for the next best thing: sneaking around and finding their little secrets for later torment. Sometimes a snide remark, a hint that he knew something he shouldn't and could spill their hidden weaknesses like entrails, was as good as a blade to the kidney. Some of his companions seemed like theyâd prefer the latter, when certain subjects were involved.
He had to repress a laugh even now, as he crept past their doorways. He knew which Legends cried in the night. He knew who begged in their sleep, who reached for salvation that wasnât there, for loved ones long gone, chances long lost. He knew who took comfort in ways that shamed them, and who couldnât sleep at all for the worries that kept them up long, long after the others had succumbed to exhaustion. Heâd heard it all before, a dozen times over.
But his stealthy steps slowed, then stopped, when he heard something new.
Singing.
âSofĂ°u unga ĂĄstin mĂn. Ăti regniĂ° grĂŠtur.â
He recognized that voice, though usually its roughness and pitch were concealed through a respiratorâs filter. It was strange to hear sound from within that familiar door when no light shone at the cracks.
Usually the Hound slept early, when they traveled long.
âMamma geymir gullin ĂŸĂn, gamla leggi og völuskrĂn.â
Revenant moved closer, drawn as if by a spiderâs thinnest thread. He didnât care if it was fascination that pulled him on, or eagerness to have caught the hunter in such a compromised situation. He didnât let his mind calculate that far. He focused only on the stillness, the deliberation of each step placed without noise.
âViĂ° skulum ekki vaka um dimmar nĂŠtur.â
The metal of the door was cold against his palm as he turned the handle, slowly, so slowly. The fingers of his other hand slipped into the crack that opened just for him. He caught a glimpse of the hunter sitting on the floor â back straight, legs crossed, their form ever so slight without all that armor to protect them-
Then the axe slammed into his hand, the sparks of metal on metal illuminating a scarred face with eyes that promised death more eloquently than any spoken threat ever could. For a moment, for that flash of agony and light, he believed the promise, and knew his grunt of surprised pain would be the last noise he made before he woke up in his new body-
And then the moment was broken as a cough raked through that thin body with claws crueler than even his own. The hunter fell back, gasping and choking, fumbling in the dark until their desperate hands found their respirator. Once theyâd pressed the mask to their face, once the cough stilled and their breathing steadied into a rhythm more suited to the living than the dying, did they look at him. Not the darkness, but their own self control hid their emotions from Revenantâs eye.Â
Their voice had an edge of frost when they finally broke the silence. âKnocking is a courtesy that is not beneath your practice.â
âAll courtesy is beneath my practice,â Revenant responded, scorn curling the edges of his words better than any smile ever could.Â
He pulled his hand back through the door â or, tried to. It was stuck, nailed to the metal surface by that twice-cursed axe. He made a mental note to find another descendant of the programmer who had thought it a good idea to build pain receptors into his system and teach them the true meaning of the word, then looked back at the hunter.Â
They were still standing, staring at him, one hand keeping the respirator clamped over their face, the other holding a sharp knife Revenant was more familiar with than he cared to admit.
âOh, donât let me interrupt,â Revenant said. âSounded like you were having a grand old time. Are you practicing for a concert?â
The sneer in his voice seemed to have no effect on the Hound who, after another moment of consideration, sat themselves on the floor once more, keeping the knife in plain view. âIt is not for others that I practice,â they said.
âYou just like the sound of your own voice that much, do you..?â Revenant wiggled his hand. Hurt zinged through his arm, but the axe stayed firm. He wondered if he could reach around with his other limb to pull it free. He didnât much care for the amount of exposure that would grant to the blade that breathed so loudly not six feet away.
âIt is not for my voice that I do this,â came the calm reply.Â
Revenant hated all the Legends, but right now he hated the Hound most, for their unflappable honesty, for their unbreakable politeness. However much he needled them, they were ever unwilling, or perhaps even unable, to descend to his level of petty backtalk. âTell me then, oh mighty hunter,â he said, using enough sarcasm for them both, âAs it seems I wonât be going anywhere until youâve had your say.â
Bloodhound watched him, their lenses reflecting the yellow light from Revenantâs own eyes back at him. When they next spoke, each word was measured, answering, but not confessing. âI would like, some day, to be able to breathe freely.â A pause. âIf the gods will it.â
Revenant fell silent at that. His gaze lingered on the Houndâs face, on the hand holding the respirator over their mouth and nose, on the lingering scars that traced every visible surface of facial tissue. â...by singing to enhance your lung capacity?â
Bloodhound nodded once, some of the tension leaving their shoulders.Â
That caught Revenantâs attention.Â
He didnât like this. He didnât like understanding them, or them willingly trusting him with information he preferred to steal himself. He liked even less knowing there was nothing he could do with this confession of weakness that would be a satisfactory vengeance for his current position of compromise.
He tugged at his hand with more violence than before, making the door rattle. Bloodhound didnât flinch, and neither did their axe.
âGet me out of here,â Revenant demanded.
The hunter stood, respirator still held firm, and walked close. They waited a moment, just long enough for Revanant to glare, and to see his own reflection in those stupid goggles, before taking firm hold of the axe handle and yanking it free with a crackle of sparks.
Their calm annoyed Revenant even more than the unwilling hiss of pain drawn from his voicebox. Without another word he slammed the door in their face, meaning to storm away and find someone more fun to bother.
But he didnât. His feet stayed where they were, inches from the closed door.
Perhaps a minute passed this way, in silence. He didnât let himself wonder why he stayed. He waited, telling himself he was the predator awaiting the footfalls of his prey.Â
But when the noise came, it was not that of booted feet against the airship floor, but of cloth rustling as the Hound lowered themselves to the ground. It was the soft brush of a back against the door, of legs being folded. It was a deep breath taken before the respirator was set aside.
And then, once more, the rough, unfiltered voice in the darkness - but so close now Revenant could almost touch it.
âĂaĂ° er margt sem myrkriĂ° veit, minn er hugur ĂŸungur.
Oft Ă©g svarta sandinn leit svĂĂ°a grĂŠnan engireit.
Ă jöklinum hljóða dauĂ°adjĂșpar sprungur.â
He was going to kill them for this. He was going to make them suffer, for forcing him to stand here and listen to their voice, as raw and vulnerable as any death cry, gentle and drifting as smoke on the wind. Were they doing it on purpose, twisting the melody so mournfully that it tugged at a soul Revenant was sure he no longer had?
âSofĂ°u lengi, sofĂ°u rĂłtt, seint mun best aĂ° vakna.â
He was going to kill them. He would make that soft voice scream in agony.
âMĂŠĂ°an kenna mun ĂŸĂ©r fljĂłtt,meĂ°an hallar degi skjĂłtt,â
He would learn the words to their song just to croon it in their ear while he plunged his fist into their chest and ripped out their heart.
âaĂ° mennirnir elska, missa, grĂĄta og sakna.â
Heâd have to stay a bit longer, though, to study the thing properly. He wasnât sure he remembered the beginning right.
But for a second the song faltered, and Revenant felt an unexplainable pang at the thought that it was over, and the Hound was done for the night.
A flap of feathered wings. An accusing caw. From the other side of the door came that rough voice, soft and soothing. âHush. I know. It is alright.â
Another deep breath, and they began again.
âSofĂ°u unga ĂĄstin mĂnâŠâ
Revenant closed his eyes. No⊠killing them wouldnât be punishment enough. Theyâd just be dead. Better would be to find someone else to kill, to make it very public, very bloodyâŠ
âĂti regniĂ° grĂŠtur.â
Then, when the newspapers reported his good work, when the survivors cried on television about a robotic voice chanting in an alien language, he would meet Bloodhoundâs eye across the room, and the Hound would know, and Revenant would know they knewâŠ
And that would surely be the sweetest revenge of all.
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Jonghyun/Taemin; kissies; R
here it is... Jonghyun getting kisses on every single part of him body
shout out to my Kissie Jonghyun Challenge!!!
âYou donât know how to read palms,â Jonghyun says, but he gives Taemin his hand anyway, nuzzling his cheek into Taeminâs shoulder to see better. Taemin holds Jonghyunâs hand, hums wisely, runs his fingers over all of the lines that he doesnât understand in the slightest, and brings it up close to his face to squint at.
âSure I do,â he says. He brings Jonghyunâs hand even closer and presses a tiny kiss to the muscle of his thumb. âThis line means youâre real gay,â he says.
When the heater finally turns off, Jonghyun stands up and folds his blankie cape more securely around his shoulders before he steps away from the ground vent and back to Taemin on the couch. Taemin opens his arms to let him into his lap, to let him nestle under his chin, warm, almost too warm with all of his blanket-absorbed heat, but wanted either way. When Jonghyun yawns into his neck Taemin drops a soft kiss to the top of his head, resting his cheek there after as Jonghyun hums and presses himself as close as possible to his chest.
~
Theyâre walking down the street together and Taemin should be paying attention to where heâs walking but all he can pay attention to is the back of Jonghyunâs head. He's wearing a snapback and the tuft of hair of hair that pokes out of the hole in the back is too cute to ignore. When Jonghyun stops to press up against the window of a pet store to look at puppies, Taemin stops behind him and presses up against his back. He nuzzles into Jonghyun's little fuzzy growth of hair. It's soft against his mouth and he says âmwahâ loud enough for Jonghyun to hear it as he kisses it before he leans away.
~
Jonghyunâs hair is parted to the side, pushed back from his forehead, gelled up into a suave little flip. Taemin knows that whenever Jonghyun does his hair like this heâs feeling charming and classy and mature, and he should be acting all swoony and fluttery and flustered by him, but heâs too distracted by the fuzzy curve of his hairline, so cute and even. When Jonghyun slings his arm possessively around Taeminâs shoulder and turns to him to call him âbabeâ in front of all of the people heâs mingling with at this party, Taemin interrupts whatever else he was going to say by leaning up and kissing at his hairline. It ruins the effect Jonghyun was going for when he pouts, but it makes him look adorable, which isnât bad either.
~
Taemin yawns into his hand as he shuffles out of the bathroom, navigating his way back into the bedroom in the 3am darkness. When he gets there, in the dim light of their nightlight, he sees Jonghyunâs big eyes looking at him, just his eyes and forehead and soft brown hair peeping out from the covers.
âTaemie,â Jonghyun whispers.
âWhat?â Taemin asks, flumping into bed and getting under the blankies, eyes already closed. Jonghyun wiggles closer to him.
âKissie,â Jonghyun demands.
âOkay,â Taemin says. He slips his arm over Jonghyun and sleepily smooches the center of his forehead. Jonghyun wiggles happily and tucks himself under Taeminâs chin.
~
Jonghyun is frustrated, annoyed, angry at some tiny thing heâs working on on his laptop, and Taemin can tell because thereâs the telling little furrow between his eyebrows, a wrinkling of his golden skin. Itâs adorable, extremely kissable, and Taemin scoots his chair around the kitchen table so he can be right next to Jonghyun. When he puts his hand on Jonghyunâs cheek Jonghyun glances at him; when he leans forward and presses his lips gently right between his eyes, Jonghyun scowls.
âDude, gross,â he grumbles, wiping his head with his sleeve, but after he pushes Taemin away he slips his arm around his waist and holds him close.
~
âHmm,â Taemin hums after watching Jonghyun spend ten minutes carefully penciling and brushing his eyebrows to look even more perfectly thick and dark than they usually are. He leans forward at Jonghyunâs questioning hum and kisses his right brow. When he comes away thereâs powder and makeup on his lips and he groans, scrunches up his face, and looks for something to wipe it off with.
âWhat did you expect?â Jonghyun asks, voice an incredulous laugh as he turns back to the mirror to fix his brow.
~
Taemin knows that Jonghyun is practising, is very intent and focused on working his way through this song before he has to record it and send it off for some boyband to buy from him, but he also knows that he himself is very intent and focused on the little veins that show up in Jonghyunâs temples when he sings a specific note. Heâs with him to watch all of his audio levels and mess with the little knobbie dealies on his soundboard, but he takes his attention from them for just a moment to gently place his lips on Jonghyunâs left temple. The next line that Jonghyun sings is softer and breathier than usual.
~
Taemin doesnât know what it is about the outer corners of Jonghyunâs eyes that is so adorable. Maybe itâs the way he does his eyeliner, brings it out to the tiniest, softest point. Maybe itâs when he does his eyeshadow heavier on the bottom corner so it all pops just a little more cutely. Maybe itâs just the way his eyes taper naturally thatâs just a tiny bit more cute than everyone elseâs. Whatever it is, Taemin misses Jonghyunâs little corner-eye-jewels phase, so he takes it upon himself to place two tiny kisses there instead.
~
âCan I be really gay for a second?â Taemin asks, chin in his hand, eyes fixed on Jonghyunâs pretty lashes. Jonghyun glances up at him with his pretty eyes.
âAs many seconds as you want,â he grins. Taemin smiles back, putting his hand on his shoulder to turn Jonghyun away from the stove and face him.
âClose your eyes?â he asks, and when Jonghyun does, he leans forward and pecks two of his tiniest, softiest kissies, one to each of Jonghyunâs pretty eyelids.
âOh my gosh,â Jonghyun whispers.
~
âYour eyes are really pretty. Nice and brown..â
âThanks.â
âCan I kiss your eyeball?â
âDo not. Even attempt to put your lips on my eyeball.â
âCan you pretend I did and it wasnât gross?â
âYeah.â
~
Jonghyun gets bags under his eyes sometimes, when his insomnia doesnât let him sleep as well as he should. Taemin lays in his lap and looks up at them, dark, puffy squishes of skin, and is mildly sad to see them, but he also has to admit that theyâre pretty cute. He lifts his hand up around Jonghyunâs neck, tugging him away from whatever he was watching on the tv. Jonghyun glances down at him and puckers up his lips expectantly. When Taemin pulls him down even further and leans up, sticking his own lips out and reaching, he puts his hand on Taeminâs wrist.
âWhat are you--?â he says, and then he scrunches his eyes closed as Taemin gets even closer, and then Taemin presses a tiny peck to his lower eyelid. Taemin lets go and nestles back into Jonghyunâs lap as Jonghyun looks blankly down at him and mouths âwhat the fuck.â
~
Jonghyunâs nose really is the cutest in the whole world, Taemin thinks. Heâs supposed to be watching the movie--he spent eleven bucks on the ticket and heâs the one that wanted to see it in the first place--but heâs just sitting here, looking at Jonghyun next to him, appreciating his side profile. His nose is sooo cute and soft and round and adorable.
âDo you think,â Jonghyun whispers, leaning towards him quietly. âThat capitalism man is the one--what?â He glances away from the movie once to catch Taeminâs eyes, and then again in a doubletake when he realizes Taemin was already staring at him. To answer, Taemin leans forward and kissies the tip of his nose.
~
Taemin feels like, in the midst of everyone always talking about his philtrum, no one ever remembers Jonghyunâs or how lovely it is. The soft little dip of skin from his nose to his lip, how it forms his cupidâs bow into not exactly a point, but not a smooth curve either, how itâs just a little bit wider at the bottom than the top. At the moment, Jonghyun is giggling and tracing Taeminâs square cupidâs bow with a fond finger. Taemin takes his wrist to gently tug his hand away so he can lean forward and pucker his lips just enough to smek the tiny space above Jonghyunâs upper lip.
~
Jonghyunâs top lip is so cute, delicate, a pretty pretty shape and ends that taper down to tuck into the corners of his mouth. The faint line in the middle is especially adorable, a lovely little half-centimeter that Taemin always wants to kiss. As Jonghyun shuffles up to him, tiny smile pointed up as he asks for a kiss, Taemin leans in and starts it so he can do just that. He gets Jonghyunâs top lip between his and gives it the fondest peck, and then another, and then a third before he focuses on kissing Jonghyun properly.
~
âNo I don't want to sign in,â Taemin grumbles at his phone. He can't sign in; he doesn't have an Instagram, he just lurks on Jonghyunâs Instagram every couple of days to see what he's been up to. Today, apparently he's been up to taking one of those sets of four pictures where he just smiles big at the camera wearing a cute hat. Taeminâs hat, Taemin realizes, squinting at the plastic monster teeth that hang down from the brim of it. He was wondering where that went.
He also wonders, as he looks at the pictures and at Jonghyunâs teeth, if it would be weird to want to kiss them. Theyâre all bright and pretty in his mouth, slightly uneven, sharp and pointy. He decides, as he taps on the picture to zoom in on Jonghyunâs teeth and bites his own lip, that it's not weird, because he's not weird, obviously, anything that he wants to do isn't weird at all, and even if it was weird, he doesn't care. He sticks his leggy up really far and uses it as leverage to help him roll off of the couch before he sets off  through the house in search of Jonghyun.
He finds him in the bedroom, crouched down at the foot of the bed to gently poke  at Rooâs sleeping side. If it's almost puppy snuggle time then Taemin has to act quick.
âHey,â he says. Jonghyun turns  to look up at him with an inquisitive hum. Taemin crouches down next to him, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. âSmile?â he asks. Jonghyun tilts his head, then gives Taemin a small, confused, closed lip smile. Taemin shakes his head. âNo, like, big smile,â he says. âPlease,â he adds. Jonghyun gives him a big smile, teeth and all, and Taemin smiles himself as he rocks himself forward to extend his lips out and peck his teeth.
~
âHey,â Jonghyun says, and his entire voice sounds like one big smirk, and Taemin scowls at the tv as he watches Jonghyunâs character completely kick his characterâs ass for the seventh time in a row.
âWhat?â he snaps, grumpy. He can feel Jonghyun wiggling next to him, nudging him with his elbow.
âMlehhh,â he says, and when Taemin looks over, Jonghyun is poking his tongue out at him. He wants to be grumpy, wants to huff and shove his shoulder and be offended at how happy Jonghyun is to be wrecking him, but all he can feel is soft at his cute little round pink tongue. He leans forward and presses a smooch to it and then, while Jonghyun drops his controller into his lap to put his face in his hands and giggle, Taemin takes the opportunity to win at least one round of their game.
~
Jonghyun has this habit when heâs thinking of touching his bottom lip. He runs his fingers over it, he nibbles it endlessly, he pushes it with his thumb. Taemin doesnât know what heâs thinking about as he writes in his notebook and reads it over and over, but heâs been thinking about it for a while and he should probably take a break. Taemin pulls up his rolly chair and scoots right next to Jonghyun, bumping into his chair on purpose just to make him look up. When he does, his thumb still squishes his lower lip. Taemin takes his hand, laces their fingers together, cups Jonghyunâs face with his free hand, and leans forward to connect their lips, sandwiching Jonghyunâs bottom one between his in a slow kiss. Jonghyun hesitates, just for a second, before he drops his pen to slip his hand around Taeminâs neck.
~
The little upturn of Jonghyunâs bottom lip, the little curve, is something that Taemin always finds his eyes drawn to. He looked it up once and learned that itâs called a teardrop, and ever since then heâd wondered what itâs there for, what itâs evolutionary purpose is, and why Jonghyunâs is so incredibly attractive to him. He still doesn't know the answers to any of those questions, but he does know that he loves gently brushing his thumb over Jonghyunâs lip and pecking tiny kissies to the bottom of it.
~
When Jonghyun smiles just right at just the right angle, the corners of his lips disappear behind his cheeks, and Taemin thinks itâs utterly adorable. And when heâs not smiling and is just sitting with a neutral face, the corners of his lips curve up just a tiny bit into a natural smile, which is also utterly adorable. And sometimes, Jonghyun does this thing where he pulls the corners of his lips back, flattening out his mouth to judge someone or to figure out a problem, and they look like two tiny little dips at the corners of his mouth, which is, again, utterly adorable.
Taemin loves the corners of his lips all the time, at every moment, and especially now, when Jonghyun is sat in Taeminâs lap, eyes closed, foreheads pressed together, just chilling, and Taemin can see their tiny smiley curve up close. He tilts his head and shifts just enough that he can press his lips to the corner of Jonghyunâs.
~
When Jonghyun sweats, it makes his cheekbones stand out that much more, a natural shine, a natural highlight on his skin, making them look sharp and strong in his face. Taemin knows theyâre in a public gym and Jonghyun likes to focus on his workouts, but still, when Jonghyun finishes a tricep rep, lowers the weights down, and leans back for a moment to catch his breath, Taemin leans down and quickly smooches the apple of his cheek. Jonghyun blinks, then looks at him with an amused little smirk, still breathing hard.
âIrresistible, I know,â he says.
~
Jonghun comes in through the front door, smiley and giggly after a morning out with his friends, and Taemin waves from where heâs slouched on the couch playing video games. Jonghyun smiles even wider when he sees and his cheeks get so round, so cute and squishy, filled up with the weight heâd been gaining lately since heâs been less stressed. He flounces over to slouch on the couch next to Taemin and the first thing Taemin does is press a big slobbery kiss right to his cheek. Jonghyun doesnât even grumble as he wipes his cheek on Taeminâs shoulder.
~
Jonghyun is humming to himself in that way he does when heâs shaving and doesnât want to accidentally cut himself by actually singing, so Taemin enters the bathroom carefully so he doesnât startle him. Jonghyun glances at him over his shoulder, smiles, and goes back to his work, leaning close to the mirror and carefully pulling the tiniest razor down the side of his face. Taemin moves to squeeze passed him so he can grab his toothbrush, then pauses and looks closer at what Jonghyun is doing.
Heâs got shaving cream spread over his sideburns, but instead of shaving a clean line, heâs busy trying to delicately shave a V shape into them. Taemin looks at the floor and laughs softly. He forgot Jonghyun shaped his sideburns into cute little points like this. When Jonghyun lowers his razor to the sink to rinse it off, Taemin leans over and pecks the very tip of his carefully styled hair.
~
Taemin is feeling smoochy, and he needs to find something to smooch immediately. He already has a target--Jonghyun, standing innocently in front of the toaster to watch his bread brown up--and he just needs to find the perfect spot. After a few moments of blatant staring, he finds it: the tiny, tiny little mole just in front of Jonghyunâs left ear. Itâs so faint that it usually gets covered up by his makeup, but now Taemin takes his chance and swoops in to cup Jonghyunâs face in his hands and triumphantly press his smoochiest smooch to the little dot. When he tries to pull away, Jonghyun gets his arms around his waist and holds him close so he can hide his face in his shoulder.
~
Ears are so delicate and pretty and detailed. Or maybe thatâs just Jonghyunâs. Or maybe itâs all ears, but Taemin is just especially fascinated by Jonghyunâs, at all of the little cartilage bits and dips and curves, extra pretty and adorable because theyâre attached to someone he loves. Theyâre driving somewhere, Jonghyun focused on the road behind the wheel, so Taemin waits patiently until they hit a red light before reaching over and tugging on Jonghyunâs sleeve.
âHey, this is maybe kinda weird, but,â he says, and leans over the center console to press a kiss directly to Jonghyunâs ear.
âYeah, that was weird,â Jonghyun mumbles at him, âbut youâre cute.â
~
Jonghyun has a mole inside his left ear. Taemin isn't sure how it escaped his notice for so long but one day while they're just sitting together watching TV he glances over and notices it, little and brown, inside Jonghyun's ear just at the top fold of cartilage under the  shell. It fascinates him but not as much as the show so he waits until commercial to actually lift his hand and rub his thumb gently over it. Jonghyun shivers but before he can ask Taemin what he's doing Taemin leans in, extends his lips, and presses the tiniest smooch to his little mole.
~
Jonghyunâs scarf is so big and poofy that all Taemin can see of him from behind is his hair and the very tips of his ears, blushed pink from the cold. Taemin slips up behind him, wrapping him up in his arms as he makes a tiny ooh of surprise, and lowers his lips once to both ears in two little kissies. He says âmwahâ each time and Jonghyunâs ears blush all the way from light pink to a deep red.
~
Taemin sleepily watches the commercials play on the tv, arm around Jonghyunâs shoulders, their heads leaning together. Jonghyun plays on his phone while they wait for their show to come back on. He shifts to get comfy and his ear brushes Taeminâs cheek. Looking away from the tv, Taemin shifts so he can nuzzle in behind Jonghyunâs ear and press a soft kiss to the shell of it. When Jonghyun doesnât acknowledge him, he pokes his tongue out and wiggles it against the same spot, and then grins wide and feigns ignorance when Jonghyun shudders and whines at him.
~
The image of a piercing sliding out of an earlobe is strange, and not one that Taemin particularly likes, but itâs still fun to sit here on Jonghyunâs vanity and watch him dejewel himself for the night. When Jonghyun finishes with one ear Taemin reaches over to touch his lobe gently, to rub his thumb over the tiny hole, to feel the softness of his skin. It makes him feel soft on the inside so he bends forward and keeps one finger on the back of Jonghyunâs earlobe so he can press the softest kissie to it.
~
Itâs one of the rare times Taemin has woken up before Jonghyun and heâs taking advantage of that by lying lazily behind him, eyes just barely cracked open, and delicately tracing the loopy lines of the tiny tattoo behind his right ear. He follows the letters with his finger, trying to convince himself that he can feel a difference between the ink and the skin. Before long, Jonghyun shifts sleepily and mumbles something incoherent, half turning to peer blearily at Taemin over his shoulder. Taemin shifts forward and touches his lips to Jonghyunâs tattoo, and then, for good measure, to the little mole that sits just behind it. Jonghyun mumbles something else and shifts to press his face into the pillows.
~
When Jonghyun turns away from him to say something to Kibum on his other side, Taeminâs eyes are drawn straight to the round corner of his jaw. Soft skin over hard bone; he always wants to touch and boop it but Jonghyun always gets tickly there. Glancing around at everyone else around their little breakfast diner table, he slips his arm around Jonghyunâs shoulders and presses a kiss there anyway. Jonghyun canât get grumbly at him because heâs too busy blushing at the public affection, which was what Taemin planned.
~
âOoh. Ahh. Ohh.â
Taemin looks up from his phone when Jonghyun suddenly starts making dramatic little noises next to him in bed. Heâs doing dramatic little poses with each noise too: he sticks his leggie out, he crosses it dramatically over his other knee, he drapes one arm over his forehead and throws Taemin a flirty little smile.
âSexy,â he purrs, trailing his hand down his face. âDramatique.â He angles his head to present his jawline, sharp and straight and pronounced. âGorgeous,â he smiles, fluttering his fingers along his jaw. Taemin muffles a small laugh into his hand, then leans forward and gives a warm kiss to the center of his jawline. Immediately Jonghyun stops his dramatics and just wiggles himself under Taeminâs arm, heart and flower emojis almost visible over his head.
âMmm,â he hums happily.
~
Jonghyunâs chin is doing that cute thing it does where he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and it smooths into one smooth curve from his lip to his neck. His eyebrows are furrowed, though, and he looks grumpy as he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and pokes at a spot on his cute chin. Taemin flushes his pee down the toilet and gently bumps Jonghyun away from the sink so he can wash his hands.
âWhat?â he asks as he does so. Jonghyun glances at him in the mirror, then points insistently at a little white bump on his chin.
âA blemish,â he sighs.
âHmm,â Taemin hums. He looks over Jonghyunâs chin; tiny pimple or not, itâs still cute. He leans forward and pecks a kiss directly to the pimple and when Jonghyun sighs at him, wipes his wet hands on his jeans.
~
Theyâre chilling with some friends at the river and Jonghyun invited himself into Taeminâs lap some time ago, so Taemin is just holding him, cheek resting against his neck, and dozing off while Jonghyun talks. At some point Jonghyun leans away from him to reach for someone else. He keeps one arm around Taeminâs neck to hold himself and Taemin blearily blinks his eyes open, looking up. All he can really see of Jonghyun from this angle is the underside of his chin, the little pouch of squish outlined by his jaw. He tilts his head up, pecks Jonghyunâs skin lightly, and tugs him close again to nuzzle back into.
~
Taemin canât fathom what about walking around the mall always makes Jonghyun so thirsty but he is absolutely going to town on a big water bottle that he just bought from a vending machine. Every time he swallows his adamâs apple bobs, up and down his neck, not big, but still noticeable, a soft round lump in his throat. Taemin waits for him to finish inhaling half of the bottle and to take a breath before he ducks down a little to press a smile to it. Jonghyun giggles, breaths heavy, and ruffles his hand through Taeminâs hair fondly.
~
Jonghyun is in a big fancy recording booth, belting out lines to some demo track heâs been working on, and Taemin is sleepily sitting on a couch outside, watching the thick vein on his neck every time it appears. Each time Jonghyun finishes he sips some water and talks to the music tech nerds that are actually monitoring and recording him and the vein disappears, but Taemin has its location memorized in his brain. When Jonghyun finally finishes recording and steps out of the booth, smiling softly and thanking everyone there, Taemin slips up to carry his bags for him and take him out to get hot chocolate before they go home. He also slips up to wrap Jonghyun up in a one-armed hug and press a kiss to his neck where his vein is hiding under the skin.
~
The side of Jonghyunâs neck is one of the places that Taemin kisses the most, largely in part due to how Jonghyun always sits himself down in between Taeminâs legs. It gives Taemin the perfect opportunity to tilt his head and press his lips to Jonghyunâs neck, to pepper slow little kisses up and down his golden skin. When heâs not kissing heâs nuzzling, nosing into his soft skin and feeling the tiny fuzzy hairs on the surface. Jonghyun scrunches his shoulders, giggling at his light touches, so Taemin smiles apologetically against him and goes back to his warm, firm kisses.
~
When Taemin slowly runs the electric razor up the back of Jonghyunâs neck on the right side, the inch or so of hair that falls away reveals the two little moles that live there. He smiles at them as he lets the hair fall to the floor between them. Two little friends. He brushes more tiny pieces of hair off of Jonghyunâs skin quickly before leaning down and gently kissing each one. Jonghyun looks down to blush and put his face in his hands, so Taemin uses the angle to better finish shaving down his undercut for him.
~
Taemin leans on the wall next to the pickup counter of the coffeeshop, waiting for their drinks with one hand in Jonghyunâs butt pocket and the other on the back of his head. He rubs his thumb lazily over the curve of Jonghyunâs hairline, the cute little rounded nape that separates his undercut from his neck. It looks like a cozy place to place a kiss, so he does just that, pressing his lips to Jonghyunâs skin and making the tiniest smek noise. Jonghyun shivers at the touch, whole body wiggling.
~
Thereâs a small pale circle on the back of Jonghyunâs neck, under his hairline but higher than his shoulders, and a little to the right, and Taemin has never been able to tell what it is, for all that itâs been there for as long as he can remember. He figures itâs a scar, but if thatâs the case, he canât for the life of him figure out what causes a scar like this. He watches Jonghyun rummaging in a drawer for something, and when he straightens up, steps behind him to hold him in place for a second.
âWhatâs the white dot on your neck from?â he asks. Jonghyun glances at him over his shoulder, confused.
âWhat white dot?â he asks. Taemin puts his finger on it, then moves his finger down slightly when Jonghyun reaches back to feel for himself. âHuh,â Jonghyun says. âI donât know.â
âHmm,â Taemin hums. Oh well. He dips his head to kiss it anyway because itâs cute.
~
No matter how long itâs been since Jonghyun got his Poet | Artist tattoo, seeing it on the back of his neck always makes Taemin pause and smile. Heâs rubbing suntan lotion over Jonghyunâs weak baby skin so he doesnât burn to a crisp at the beach, and when he gets to the tattoo, he takes his time in smoothing the cream into him. Then he lowers his head and carefully kisses each letter, all ten of them, plus the line in the center, and smiles against the back of his neck when he hears Jonghyun whispering âoh my fucking gosh.â
~
âTaem.â
Jonghyun is pouting; Taemin can hear it in his voice before he even looks up to see it on his lips. Heâs pouting as he shuffles up to Taemin, hands on either side of his neck where it meets his shoulders. Taemin rolls his eyes fondly. He made such a big deal earlier about how he was buff and strong and didnât get sore from one workout, and now here he is.
âTaem, Iâm sore,â Jonghyun pouts, leaning into Taeminâs chest. Taemin doesnât tease him and just turns him around, gently shooing his hands away to replace them with his own. He gives Jonghyun a little massage, rubbing his muscles gently but firmly. As he works, he appreciates the smooth skin, the pretty curve from neck to shoulder. Eventually he canât resist anymore and stops his massage to press a few slow, warm kisses to Jonghyunâs skin. Jonghyun hums and shifts closer, so Taemin assumes that the gesture is appreciated.
~
When Jonghyun walks back into the living room from the hallway, Taemin notices a speck of dirt on the right side of his neck. He reaches up when Jonghyun walks in front of him on the couch to get it for him. He rubs it with his thumb, but it doesnât come off; frowning and tugging Jonghyun to bend down so he can look closer, he sees that itâs not dirt but just a tiny little brown dot on his skin.
âOh,â he says.
âWhat?â Jonghyun asks. He tries to look down at it, chin all scrunched up in his neck. âWhat is it?â
âNothing,â Taemin says. He leans forward and smooches the dot before letting Jonghyun go. Jonghyun looks at him for a moment, confused, before realization dawns on him and he puts his thumb right on it.
âOh, my little mole?â he asks, a broad smile on his lips. âYeah, sheâs cute. Kiss her again.â He shuffles forward, practically smothering Taeminâs face with his neck, until Taemin laughs and gives him another kiss.
~
Jonghyun was laying on Taeminâs chest, but now he pushes himself up on his elbows to lean over him and reach for something on the table next to the couch. Taemin looks blandly up at his neck right in front of his face, at the hollow of it framed by the long muscles under his skin. Itâs a deep little cave, strangely beautiful, in some anatomy appreciation kind of way, and before Jonghyun can move away Taemin lifts his head up to drop a kiss in there.
~
Taemin loves Jonghyunâs chest mole, but not as much as Jonghyun loves it. Heâs always wearing low cut shirts, vnecks, open jackets, just so everyone can see and admire it, and when he notices people looking he always smiles a few notches wider. Taemin feels like itâs spoiling Jonghyun, a little, to kissie it, but he loves Jonghyun and he loves spoiling him, so he makes sure to always swoop in and kiss the cute little dot whenever Jonghyun presents it to the world.
~
Jonghyunâs collarbones are so pretty, jutting out from his chest as he sits on the other side of the table at this restaurant. Taemin is trying to focus on the conversation everyone else is having, he really is, but heâs just. So distracted. They look so good. Taemin makes an impulse decision and gets up out of his seat, tugs on Minhoâs wrist until he gets out of the booth, and then takes his place next to Jonghyun. Everyone is staring at him in confusion now so itâs easy for him to tuck himself under Jonghyunâs chin and smooch down the line of one collarbone and then up the other. When heâs done, Jonghyun is giggling into his hands and Minho is calling him gay, both of which he appreciates greatly.
~
When Taemin comes out of the bathroom after his morning pee, Jonghyun is still sitting up in bed, rubbing his face and trying to wake up. Taemin thinks it's pretty admirable of him to actually get up and start his day when he wakes up, because right now he's heading right back into bed to sleep for another hour. Before he does, he glances over Jonghyunâs shirtless torso to look for someplace to kiss. His eyes fall on Jonghyunâs left trap muscle, between his neck and shoulder, and the little brown mole placed delicately in the center near the back. Cute. As he pulls the covers up and sits down under them, he gently hugs Jonghyun from behind and drops a little kissy onto his mole before he lies all the way down and pulls the blankies over his head. He feels Jonghyun just as gently pat his shoulder in thanks.
~
Jonghyunâs shoulders are nice, and warm, and solid under Taeminâs hands. Warm and round and soft, thick babely muscle. Hell yeah. Technically itâs all definition and not a lot of mass, but thatâs Jonghyunâs goal when he goes to the gym anyway, and heâs still strong enough to pick Taemin up whenever he wants, so who cares.
âHey,â Jonghyun says, glancing at him over one shoulder. âAre you done feeling me up?â he asks. âI gotta actually get into the shower.â He gestures at the shower running in front of him, which he started a minute or two ago before he undressed and Taemin caught sight of his shoulders in the mirror while he was rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Taemin hums, hands still rubbing warm circles over Jonghyunâs shoulders, and then leans down to press a smooch to each.
âFor now,â he says, pushing Jonghyun gently forward. For now.
~
When Jonghyun rolls over in bed and stretches his arm out directly over Taeminâs face, Taemin knows heâs doing it on purpose just to be a little brat. He doesnât really care, because Jonghyun being a brat is one of Taeminâs favorite things that he does. He quickly snatches both of his arms around Jonghyunâs one, keeping him there, smiling pleasantly against his shoulder when Jonghyun wiggles to get free.
It registers in his brain that this is Jonghyunâs right arm, and that his mouth is on the side of his right shoulder, right where his little mole should be. He lifts Jonghyunâs arm for just a second to check, and yeah, there it is. The tiny circle. Holding Jonghyunâs arm tight again, he presses his mouth to his skin and places many quick kissies to the little dot. Jonghyun stops trying to wiggle away.
~
Taemin likes being snuggled in Jonghyunâs lap because it puts him at the perfect position to nuzzle into the area between his shoulder and his chest. Jonghyun is wearing one of his loose tank tops and Taemin is zoning out as they sit, half falling asleep and half not, and staring blankly where thick stretch marks creep out of Jonghyunâs sleeve and over his skin. He trails one finger over each one, feeling his skin dip into each stretch and the tiny wiggles of the outlines. Jonghyun likes them a whole lot â he wrote a really gay and thoughtful metaphor about his physical stretch marks feeling like emotional ones to put as a forward in one of his albums that Taemin didn't really understand all the way. Taemin just thinks they're cute and pretty and he likes how when he leans in to kiss them he can feel them against his lips.
~
Taemin feels like some of his happiest moments are when he has his face smooshed right up against Jonghyun. Right now he has his face smooshed into the side of Jonghyunâs chest, head tucked comfy under his arm, smile pressed to his skin. Also right now, though, Jonghyun is making his whiny pouty noise and wiggling.
âYour hair is tickling my undiearm,â he whines. Taemin snorts, tilting his head to look up. Thereâs Jonghyunâs underarm, hollow and full of three week old stubble and slightly sweaty, just like usual. Taemin wiggles up Jonghyunâs body to smoosh his face in there instead, presses it right up into the hollow and nuzzles the hair, smiling pleasantly when Jonghyun sighs heavily at him.
âYou smell nice,â he says, and he really means it. He likes Jonghyunâs sweaty musk, and he likes how whenever he mentions that Jonghyun is both proud and exasperated at it.
âShut up,â Jonghyun says, and yeah, there was a hint of badly concealed pride in his tone. Taemin can hear his fought back smile. He nuzzles even further in and presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to Jonghyunâs pit, just to really drive his point home.
~
Taemin might be slightly tipsy, but that has no bearing on how he thinks the two little moles on Jonghyunâs left shoulder look vaguely like eyes, and the thin vein between them looks like a long blue nose. Like Squidward, is what heâs saying. Jonghyun has a Squidward on his shoulder, and while Taemin has always thought this sober, it takes half a bottle of wine for him to giggle and say it out loud.
While Jonghyun is frowning and trying to squint at his arm with his own drunky eyes, Taemin flops over on the carpet and reaches for a pen on the coffee table. He takes it, rolls back, draws two ovals around Jonghyunâs little moles, and then a small curved frown under the vein. Just looking at it makes him giggle more.
âIâm Squidward,â Jonghyun whispers. He lifts his hands to his cheeks and gasps softly. That sets Taemin to even more laughter, but when heâs done, he takes Jonghyunâs left wrist and tugs his arm out straight.
âYouâre cute,â he smiles, and presses a kiss to each mole and slobbers his tongue up the vein.
~
Falling asleep with Jonghyun is always so lovely. He lets Taemin use his arm as a pillow, always has, and Taemin enjoys resting his head on Jonghyunâs bicep, one hand tucked under, the other hand thrown lazily over Jonghyunâs waist. Jonghyunâs lips always fall by Taeminâs head to let soft breaths rustle his hair and his legs tangle with Taeminâs, locking them together all snuggly and warm. Taemin loves. He nestles closer, holding Jonghyun to him, nuzzling into the warm skin of his bicep. He always needs to kissie before he can fall asleep, so he takes the opportunity to turn his head and press as many smooches as his heart desires to Jonghyunâs bicep.
~
Jonghyunâs Never-The-Less tattoo always surprises Taemin. Not because itâs big or bold or shocking or anything, but because he always forgets that itâs there, until he sees it again. The letters are so stark against the skin of his bicep. They almost seem out of place but Taemin is slowly getting used to it after so many years.
It still surprises him, a little, when Jonghyun laces his hands behind his head and stretches lazily, face scrunching up as a tiny squeak escapes his throat. Taemin stares at the three little words on his arm, the two tiny dots that separate them. After Jonghyun finishes stretching but before he puts his arms down, Taemin scoots forward to press five kissies to the tattoo. Jonghyunâs hands move from the back of his head to cover his face instead.
~
âDude. What are you doing?â
Taemin looks up guiltily from where heâd been casually nomming on Jonghyunâs arm, nibbling along the thick vein that runs down his biep under his skin. Jonghyun frowns at him; Taemin smiles innocently and gently, gently, gently bites his arm again.
âStop that, youâre gonna, like, bite me open and then Iâll bleed everywhere and itâll be gross,â Jonghyun mumbles. He tries to take his arm away, but Taemin clings to him with both hands and presses a tiny kiss to his vein instead. Jonghyun rolls his eyes and lets him stay.
~
Taemin wakes up with his face in the crook of Jonghyunâs elbow, and he knows that Jonghyun put the crook of his elbow into his face on purpose because thereâs no way that Taemin woke up before him. He takes in a big sleepy breath, hooking his own arm over Jonghyunâs and puckering his lips to kiss his soft delicate skin. He hears Jonghyun make his smiley hummy noise next to him and snorts. He just wanted a morning smoochie. Taemin brings his other hand up to hold Jonghyunâs elbow there, gently but still firmly, and gives him another, and then another, and then, just when Jonghyun lets his guard down to giggle, opens his mouth wide and blows a big raspberry.
~
Theyâre lying out on their stomachs on the bed, Jonghyun pleasantly putting together a few pages of his latest scrapbook and Taemin just watching, dozing off on his shoulder. Jonghyun hums little words to himself as he works, voice cute and little and confident as he talks himself through it, and itâs soothing Taemin to a nice state of hazy, in-and-out sleepiness. He zones out, sight blurring for a little bit, before he blinks everything back and focuses on what he was looking at.
It was just Jonghyunâs left arm, the inside of his elbow, just a little bit on the forearm side. Thereâs a nice brown circle on his skin and Taemin yawns into Jonghyunâs shoulder before he reaches over sleepily to poke it.
âYou have a mole on your elbow pit,â he says.
âHmm?â Jonghyun hums. He lifts his arm to look at it himself. âOh, yeah. Thatâs Barbara.â He puts his thumb on it, and then, while Taemin is just starting to register that joke and giggle about it, brings his arm over to hover in front of Taeminâs face. Taemin takes the hint and indulges himself in his favorite thing, tilting his head just enough to give Barb the tiniest kissie.
~
Taemin is sleepy and has a headache, but theyâre at some mingly party with business fancy people that they canât escape from yet. Taemin has half escaped, at least from talking to people, by pretending to be drunk off of the cheap champagne being served. Heâs tugged Jonghyun to sit on the couch and is leaning into him, doing his best to look drunky and pitiful so people will gently suggest that itâs time for them to leave. Jonghyun is helping too, with an arm around his shoulders and gentle kissies placed to his noggin and quiet murmurs of comfort in his hair. Taemin doesnât want to brag, but theyâre pretty hecking expert at getting out of these things like this.
For now, he picks up Jonghyunâs hand where itâs dangling lazily by his bicep. He turns to nuzzle his cheek into Jonghyunâs palm, and then into the inside of his forearm, soft and smooth and warm, baby peach fuzz hairs tickling his cheek. He always liked the insides of peopleâs forearms, and especially Jonghyunâs. They always look so comfy and smooth. He tilts his head just enough that he can brush his lips against Jonghyunâs skin. It lessens his headache, a little.
~
They're sitting on the hood of Jonghyunâs fancy car, out in the hills, in a little place that overlooks the city so they can watch the sunset and then stargaze together in the quiet. Taemin is just thinking about pulling the yawn and put your arm around someone's shoulders trick on Jonghyun when Jonghyun himself yawns and does it to him. Taemin laughs softly to himself but accepts that Jonghyun timed that well enough to beat him to it and just snuggles into the crook of Jonghyunâs shoulder instead, getting comfortable.
Jonghyunâs right elbow hooks around his neck, hand dangling over his chest, and Taemin slides his hand down his forearm so he can tangle their fingers together and feel gay about it. Halfway down Jonghyunâs arm, though, he stops, a little bump on his skin drawing his attention. Suddenly he remembers the mole on Jonghyunâs forearm, in between two of his veins, and runs his thumb back over his skin to find it again. When he does, he brings his mouth to it to press a smile against it.
~
Jonghyun is tapping away on his phone, thumbs typing out lyrics, lips pouting every so often as the bus jostles them and he has to delete a typo. Taemin is on his own phone, but he glances up once just to see whatâs ahead of them. When heâs looking back down, his eyes catch the tattoo on the inside of Jonghyunâs left wrist and he pauses.
Itâs thin, little, sloppy cursive letters spelling out âStory Op. 1.. 2.. 3.. 4âŠâ Taemin lifts his hand to gently take Jonghyunâs wrist, thumb rubbing over the letters and numbers fondly. He worked hard to earn this tattoo. He brings Jonghyunâs hand to his mouth and kisses the one, the two, the three, the four, and adds one more kiss at the empty space after. Jonghyun chuckles softly, taking his wrist back to keep typing on his phone.
âFive kissies?â he asks, cocking a brow. âDid you lose count?â
âNo,â Taemin says, pouty. âYouâre working on Five, arenât you?â he asks, nodding at the lyrics on Jonghyunâs phone. âIt was a placeholder kiss.â
âOh my gosh,â Jonghyun whispers. He gives Taemin his phone, then puts his face in his free hands. âYou canât say soft shit like that to me in public, oh my gosh.â
~
Jonghyun is sitting on the kitchen counter watching Taemin struggle to make pancakes from a box mix, feet kicking the counters under him and right hand holding a kazoo to his lips. He's been speaking through that all morning and it's only just starting to get slightly annoying and Taemin knows that's only because he's frustrated with the batter. He turns around to grab something from the fridge and Jonghyun, in the grainy weird voice of someone speaking through a kazoo, tells him he has a nice butt. Taeminâs prickles of annoyance dissolve quickly. He can't be mad at that.
He takes a break from his pancakes for a moment to just walk up to Jonghyunâs spot on the counter and put his hands on either side of his hips. He means to lean around the kazoo and kiss the corner of Jonghyunâs smile, but he notices the faint, tiny, little speck of a mole on Jonghyunâs forearm, a little under his wrist, and pauses. That's easier to reach, so he tilts his head and kisses that instead. Jonghyun covers his eyes with his hands, whispering âOh my gosh,â through the kazoo.
~
âHey.â
âHmm.â
âLook.â
Taemin canât help but look as Jonghyun sticks his wrist in Taeminâs face, hand tilted daintily back to accentuate all of his little veins and tendons under the skin. He raises his brows, tilting his head to look at Jonghyun behind his wrist. Jonghyun smiles all coy and pretty, head tilted down but looking up at Taemin through his lashes, delicate and flirty. Taemin brings his eyes back to Jonghyunâs wrist. Jonghyun twists it just enough to make new little lacy lines and veins stick out, fluttering his lashes at Taemin expectantly. Taemin considers holding back, but not for more than a second, because he wants to kiss Jonghyunâs wrist as much as Jonghyun wants him to kiss it. So he does, leaning forward and smooching his skin once, and then laughing and kissing him more when Jonghyun grins and smooshes his wrist against Taeminâs mouth.
~
âHey. Lemme read your palm.â
âYou donât know how to read palms,â Jonghyun says, but he gives Taemin his hand anyway, nuzzling his cheek into Taeminâs shoulder to see better. Taemin holds Jonghyunâs hand, hums wisely, runs his fingers over all of the lines that he doesnât understand in the slightest, and brings it up close to his face to squint at.
âSure I do,â he says. He brings Jonghyunâs hand even closer and presses a tiny kiss to the muscle of his thumb. âThis line means youâre real gay,â he says. He brings his lips to the muscle on the other side of Jonghyunâs hand and kissies that too. âThat one means youâre real cute.â
âYouâre not even kissing the lines,â Jonghyun says. His voice is a tiny squeak muffled into Taeminâs sleeve. He also spreads his hand out wide to give Taemin more kissing room. Taemin smiles against his palm and kisses the little curve at the bottom, and then the side of his hand, and then the little webby of skin between his thumb and pointer finger, and then finally the center.
~
Jonghyunâs hand feels strangely rough against Taeminâs and it puzzles Taemin for like half an hour until he realizes he can just bring Jonghyunâs hand up and look at it. He does that, stopping them in the middle of their lazy walk around the lake. He holds Jonghyunâs hand in front of his face, rubbing his thumb over the top of his palm.
âOh,â he says. The roughness comes from blisters, one under each finger, two of them a little flaky like Jonghyun has been picking at them. âWhereâd you get these?â he asks.
âJerking off too hard,â Jonghyun says, head tilted and eyes slightly squinted, eyebrows furrowed, his expression of utmost seriousness. Taemin snorts into loud laughter, putting Jonghyunâs hand over his face to muffle it. Fuck.
As his giggles fade out and they start walking again, Jonghyun looking extremely proud of himself, Taemin takes the time to kissie each blister in the hopes that itâll make them heal faster.
~
Jonghyun always has his little pinky halfway up when he holds things. He never curls it all the way in or sticks it all the way out; he just keeps it bent, a little hook, a little cutie. Taemin watches him singing softly in the practise room, the band for his tiny show playing behind him, his mouth right up on the metal of the mic, his hand almost all the way curled around the handle except for his pinky.
He watches him from the floor, because he got bored waiting for Jonghyun to finish practise like half an hour ago and being on the floor always makes things better. When everyone finishes the song and takes a break, Taemin rolls and slides himself over the hardwood like a slug, coming to a stop at Jonghyunâs feet and pawing at his shins. Jonghyun glances down, almost snorts out the gulp of water he was taking, swallows it instead, and half-cough-half-laughs into his hand as he crouches down.
âYeah?â he asks, lifting one brow. He rests his elbows on his knees and his hands dangle in between them, one still holding his water bottle and the other holding his mic, both pinkies half stuck out. Taemin reaches up and takes one hand, kissies his pinky, lets it go, grabs Jonghyunâs other hand, and kisses his other pinky. Jonghyun chuckles softly, wiggling his pinky so it boops Taeminâs nose.
âAlmost done, okay?â he says. Taemin nods.
âTake your time,â he replies. He just wanted to say hi.
~
âWhat are you giggling about?â
âNothing.â
âYouâre giggling about something.â
Taemin is giggling about Jonghyunâs rings, the two couple rings heâs wearing, one on each ring finger. Every time he sees them they make him giggle. Heâs not sure why; itâs cute that Jonghyun got something coupley for himself and decided to keep wearing them even after they got together forever ago. A nice little reminder for Jonghyun that he can like himself by himself.
Taemin reaches out and takes Jonghyunâs smoothie from his hand, and while Jonghyun is whining and telling him not to drink it, takes his hand and brings it up to his mouth. He gives the tiniest smooch to the ring on his finger, then smiles against Jonghyunâs skin as he gives him back his drink.
~
âDude, Sailor Moon isnât even that good. You just like it because of the nostalgia.â
âOh. My gosh. Oh my gosh. Wow. Oh my gosh.â
Taemin watches, amused, as Jonghyun stands up from the couch and walks in a circle in the living room, hands pressed together in front of his mouth. Heâs so dramatic. He walks in like five more circles saying âoh my goshâ before he sits back down next to Taemin and takes his face in both hands, palms squishing his cheeks. Taemin lets him, raising his brows and waiting for Jonghyun to say something different to prove him wrong. Instead he just takes one hand off, folds down all of his fingers except his middle, and presses it right against Taeminâs face, squishing his lips and nose.
âNever voice your opinions in my presence ever again,â he says. Taemin obeys him and puckers his lips to smooch Jonghyunâs middle finger instead.
âOh my gosh,â Jonghyun mutters, a fond, exasperated sigh this time.
~
Jonghyun is taking a call from his therapist on the phone, and thatâs important business, Taemin knows, but he doesnât need both hands for it, and his left hand is very soft and warm and perfect for holding. Taemin holds it in both of his and rubs his thumbs over Jonghyunâs palm, his fingers, pinches his knuckles lightly. When he finds the little W.Fk tattoo on the side of his middle finger, he smiles and makes sure to give that a special kiss for being cute. Jonghyun ends his phone call a few moments later and cocks a brow at him as he slots his phone back into his pocket.
âDo you know literally any of their names?â he asks, wiggling his finger. âAnyone in the whole group? That I spend hours with on a weekly basis?â
âNot a single one,â Taemin says, grinning broadly. Jonghyun sighs and shakes his head.
~
âJonghyun!â
âWuh--What? What is it? What happened?â
âJong! Hyun!â Taemin bursts into the living room, looks around wildly, finds Jonghyun sitting in front of the coffee table, sprints to the couch, vaults over it, and does a sick ass roll, coming to a stop just a little bit further from Jonghyun than he meant to. He scrambles the few extra inches forward, Jonghyun watching him with extreme confusion and a healthy amount of fear, grabs both of his hands, and stops to catch his breath.
âAre you--okay, what do you want, did something hap--â
âHey,â Taemin interrupts him, perfectly calm and relaxed. He gets his thumbs under Jonghyunâs pointer fingers and pushes them up. Bringing them to his mouth, he smiles against them and presses a tiny kissie to the pad of each one. âYouâre real cute,â he says. Jonghyun looks at him for a long moment, and then he lies back down on the floor on his stomach and grumbles into the carpet.
~
Jonghyun is concentrating with his thumb against his mouth again, lips pressed to the pad of it, bottom lip squishing up and down slowly as he reads over his lyrics. Taemin just peeped into his office to see if he wanted a snack, but as he watches Jonghyun work, he feels mildly jealous. He wants to kissie Jonghyunâs thumb too.
He slips inside, gently taking Jonghyunâs hand before he even says hi and bringing his thumb to his mouth to kiss. Jonghyun blinks at him, confused, before he smirks and smooshes his thumb in between his lips, rubbing against his teeth and along his gums before Taemin splutters and moves away.
~
Taemin is woken up from his lazy couch nap in Jonghyunâs lap by a snap, a snap, a snap, a pause, a sigh, and then a low grumble in the back of Jonghyunâs throat. He rolls his eyes before he even opens them and lifts his hands to feel up around him for Jonghyunâs. When he finds them, as he expects, theyâre together, one hand trying to crack a stubborn knuckle on the other.
âYouâre gonna break your own fucking finger,â he mutters, pulling Jonghyunâs hands apart. âCrack it later if it wonât crack now.â He ignores Jonghyunâs pouty noises of protest in favor of fumbling with Jonghyunâs hands in his own until heâs holding them by their fingertips. Then, since he doesnât feel like figuring out which knuckle Jonghyun was trying to crush, he just gives all eight of them a little smooch.
~
Taemin is almost asleep when Jonghyun starts shuffling next to him in bed. He doesnât open his eyes and just listens to Jonghyun plugging his phone in, taking a sip from his water bottle, and wiggling from a sit to a lie all the way under the covers. When Jonghyun finally gets settled and comfy clinging to Taeminâs arm, Taemin wiggles closer and finds one of his hands to hold.
âSleepy early tonight?â he mumbles. He hears Jonghyun shrug.
âApparently,â he says. âIâll probably wake up in a few hours. Iâll try not to wake you up too.â
âMmm,â Taemin hums. He doesnât think anything can really wake him up once heâs out, but thatâs considerate. He brings Jonghyunâs hand up and rubs his thumb over his fingers, the short segments between his first and second knuckles. Bringing them up to his mouth, he presses a sleepy mush of his lips to all of them at once. âNighty n--â
âThat was so gay.â
âNighty night,â Taemin repeats. Jonghyun only giggles for a little bit before nuzzling up close and quieting down.
~
Jonghyunâs middle knuckles are so cute, and Taemin feels like he should be embarrassed to think that, but heâs too busy staring at Jonghyunâs fingers rise up and down as he lifts the dumbbell at a measured pace. His fancy weight lifting gloves cover just the first half of his fingers, stopping short just under his knuckles, and they really accentuate their weird round-but-also-flat knobbiness.
âFuh--fifteen,â Jonghyun breathes under him, voice just slightly tight. âRight?â he asks, and Taemin knows heâs talking to him, and he also knows that he lost count while he was staring at his knuckles.
âUh,â he says. âOne more,â he says, and then âone more,â and then âone more,â and then âone moreâ again, and then when Jonghyun starts clenching his teeth on the push up, gently lifts the weight the rest of the way for him and sets it on the rack. âGood job, good push,â he tells Jonghyun, reaching down again to fluff his hair encouragingly. Jonghyun snorts and grins up at him, breaths heavy.
âYou lost count,â he says, reaching up to poke his nose. Taemin grumbles, disgruntled at being caught so easily, and just grabs Jonghyunâs hand to kiss his knuckles instead of replying.
~
âPow. Pow pow pow. Mmm--bop! Bop pow--hey.â
Taemin grins when Jonghyun pouts at him, trying to tug his fist away from where Taemin has a firm grip on it with both hands. Heâd think that for someone that just started fake boxing out of the blue, complete with fancy sidesteps and self-made sound effects, Jonghyun would be ready for a block. As it is, Taemin leans forward to press a kiss to the front of Jonghyunâs fist. Jonghyun bites back a smile, then brings his other fist up in a quick but soft uppercut to just barely dink Taeminâs chin.
âKnockout,â he says. âI win.â
~
âTaem.â
âHfmm?â
âPlease.â
Taemin glances behind him in the mirror to find Jonghyunâs hand sticking out of the shower curtain, waving his toothbrush insistantly at him. He snorts. Must have run out of his shower toothpaste. Holding his own toothbrush in his mouth, he grabs his tube and then Jonghyunâs hand to steady it so he can squeeze some onto his brush. Then, since theyâre there, he tilts his head to smooch Jonghyunâs knuckles.
âWhat the fuck was--oh, did you kiss me?â Jonghyun asks. His voice is a grin and he takes his toothbrush back. âThanks,â he says, voice already muffled.
~
Taemin is yawning over his morning cereal when a hand suddenly appears in front of his face. The back of a hand to be precise--Jonghyunâs hand. Jonghyun smiles innocently back at him across the table before he takes his hand back to himself. Â He holds it up by his shoulder, palm facing up, for ten seconds before he lowers it back down over Taeminâs bowl, fingers wiggling daintily. Heâs doing his tendonitis stretches but being a little brat about it. Taemin can't help but smile. Jonghyun lifts and lowers his hand again and this time Taemin gently grabs his fingers to hold. Jonghyun's smile grows, and then grows even more when Taemin presses his lips to the back of his hand.
~
Taemin feels like he should be more concerned than he is to be lying in Jonghyunâs lap while he plays the guitar. Jonghyun has dropped guitars before and dropped guitars on Taeminâs head before but he still can't find it in himself to worry. He likes to lie like this and listen to Jonghyun play sweet tunes.
It's relaxing and comfortable to just listen to his creativity flow. He lazily looks up to find Jonghyun's hand on the body of the guitar, warm fingers lazily plucking out notes. The way his wrist curves just slightly accentuates the little round knobby bone under his skin. Taemin always wondered what that bone was for. He raises his own hand to look at his own wrist and then back up to Jonghyunâs. Jonghyunâs is definitely cuter. When Jonghyun pauses his music to write something down in his notebook Taemin takes his wrist to press a kiss to his knobby bone before giving it back.
~
Jonghyun really isn't tall enough to be slinging his arm around peopleâs shoulders all the time but Taemin likes when he does it anyway. The weight of his arm around his neck is heavy and comforting and it makes him feel like he belongs to Jonghyun in the softest and gayest way possible. He lets Jonghyun drag him around the mall, walking into different stores, window shopping and buying candy. When they stop in line in the food court and Jonghyun lifts the hand around his shoulders to point at something on the menu his wrist hovers right in Taeminâs line of sight. Taemin forgets about food for a second and leans forward to peck his wrist gently. Jonghyun hesitates, then sighs and puts his whole hand over Taemin's face.
~
Taemin knows that his dance practices aren't the most exciting thing to watch but heâs still a little surprised to see Jonghyun conked out and snoozing at the desk in the corner of the practice room. When Taemin left him there an hour ago he said he would be working on his music and supporting Taemin in the background. Taemin guesses he dozed off somewhere in between doing all of that.
Taemin heads over there and crouches down in front of Jonghyun's desk. Jonghyun has his head pillowed in his arms, eyes closed but a moving slowly up and down with soft breaths. Taemin lifts his hands to rub over Jonghyun's forearms, smoothing over his warm skin and gently pulling at his little hairs. When Jonghyun stirs, lifting his head and rubbing one sleepy eye with the palm of his hand, Taemin moves forward and smooches his forearm gently. Jonghyun's sleepy little smile is the prettiest thing Taemin has seen all day.
~
"Are you here because you want to help me with my cooking or because you don't want me to steal all the bacon like last time?"
"The second one, most definitely," Jonghyun says, smile shameless on his face. Taemin smiles back just as shamelessly. He can't blame Jonghyun for his decision. He pokes at the bacon in the pan, flipping each piece over carefully. Jonghyun stands pleasantly next to him, hands laced behind his back. Taemin glances down for a second and when he looks up, his eyes stop at Jonghyun's elbow. Without thinking, Taemin lifts one finger and inserts it into the little fold of skin in Jonghyun's elbow. it sinks in easily and he giggles, wiggling it gently.
"What are you â hey, " Jonghyun says. He tucks his elbow away, lifting it to try to peek at it himself. He lifts it to just the perfect height for Taemin to bend down and kiss.
~
"Oof... Hoo... Huff...... Gotta be... beefy.... "
Taemin covers his mouth with his hand as he tries not to giggle at Jonghyun's workout monologue. It's a good self pep talk, he has to admit. He does his best to focus back on spotting Jonghyun, watching him tug the handlebar down and lift and let it rise back up slowly. He's working on his triceps today and Taemin has to fight to not get distracted by those too. He's always been a sucker for a nice pair of arms. He holds out just long enough for Jonghyun to finish his current set. Then he slips up closer to feel up Jonghyun's arm.
"Very nice and very beefy, " he says smoothly. He bends his knees enough that he can rub his cheek on Jonghyun's nice sweaty tricep. While Jonghyun is chuckling tiredly at him he smooches his muscle gently.
~
Taemin is real tired, almost tired enough to fall asleep on his feet, but that's not why he slouches up to Jonghyun on his tummy on the bed and flops directly on top of him. He smiles against Jonghyun's sweaty bare skin when he wiggles in protest, whining about the heat. Taemin is hot too but he still wraps his arms around Jonghyun's warm chest and nuzzles into his back.
"Taemin nooooooo," Jonghyun whines.
"Taemin yes," Taemin says. He puckers his lips and  presses a kiss to the soft spot between Jonghyun's back and underarm. He does it two more times before Jonghyun growls and rolls him off.
~
Jonghyun is singing in the shower, that one song he wrote when he was feeling particularly gay about Minho's eyes, and Taemin is standing behind him, forehead resting gently between his shoulder blades. He's feeling kind of like a lump today, so Jonghyun offered to shower with him, and by "shower with" they mean Jonghyun does all the work and Taemin stands there feeling lumpy. Taemin appreciates it and he appreciates Jonghyun's soft yet peppy voice echoing off of the tiles. He's been standing under the water for the time being while the conditioner soaks into his hair and while Jonghyun washes his own face. Taemin breathes slowly, eyes closed, and when Jonghyun gets into his little rap section, moving his shoulders to the beat in his brain, he shifts under Taemin's head so his shoulder blade is against his face. Since it's there Taemin gives it a wet kiss.
~
They're having a sloppy make-out, one of Taemin's favorite kinds, but Taemin finds himself highly distracted. His hands are around the back of Jonghyun's neck, fingers trailing lightly up and down the knobs of his spine. Pulling away from Jonghyun's mouth, he lowers his hands to his shoulders and pushes gently.
"Turn around, really quick," he says. Jonghyun obeys with a questioning hum. Taemin pushes Jonghyun's head forward and rubs his thumb over the top few knobs of bone he can see under his skin. "Cute, " he says, leaning forward to kiss each one.
~
It's not often that Taemin is the big spoon â Jonghyun says he likes feeling like a big warm net and wrapping Taemin all up â but when he does get to curl himself around Jonghyun's small warm body, he enjoys the experience a lot. He nuzzles into Jonghyunâs skin, nosing up and down the soft line of his back. He needs to kissie a lot to fall asleep; it's part of his sleep ritual, so he peppers kisses all over Jonghyun's back and shoulder blades before sighing happily as he drifts off to sleep.
~
It's always a double-take moment for Taemin when his eyes land on Jonghyun's a romanticist tattoo. He always thinks it says aromantic instead. Which isn't even wrong, technically. Jonghyun told him one time that he had it done on purpose so it could be both.
"It's because I'm Arofluid," he'd smiled, reaching one finger back to gently poke the clear tape over the tattoo after heâd first gotten it done. "So sometimes I'm aromantic and sometimes I'm a romanticist." he winked then too, looking cute as a button.
Right now, Taemin thinks his tattoo looks cute as a button as well, shyly peeking out at him from the strap of Jonghyun's tank top. He leans down while they're walking through the grocery store to drop a little kiss to and trail his lips softly over the letters. Jonghyun drops the list he was carrying into the cart and shivers, pouting at Taemin over his shoulder.
~
Not to expose himself as an obvious sideboob admirer or anything, but when Jonghyun pulls one of his sleeveless shirts over his head and Taemin gets a nice look at his entire sideboob he suddenly becomes completely erect in every way. He slimes his way out of bed and slides over to Jonghyun by the dresser.
"Mmmmmmmm. Hmm," he hums, wrapping his arms around Jonghyun's waist, ducking under his arm, and smooshing his face into Jonghyun's side.
"Oh hello, my little clingy worm boi," Jonghyun smiles. He pets Taemin's head fondly. Taemin just as fondly kisses Jonghyun's sideboob.
~
Jonghyun holds his arms out, elbows bent, hands locked in front of his chest, and twists at the waist from side to side, stretching before he goes and picks one of the empty weight machines at the gym. Taemin watches, lazily doing his own leg stretches with much less effort and focus, partly because he's just here to feel like he has his life together and partly because every time Jonghyun  twists away from him, Taemin gets a peek at his left side boob and the little mole that sits near the top.
Jonghyun counts each twist under his breath, and when he reaches twenty and lowers his arms and starts to turn himself back to a neutral position, Taemin stops him with hands on his bare waist. Jonghyun hums in question as Taemin gently pushes his arm out of the way and presses his thumb right on the little brown dot.
âYou have a little,â he says and ducks his head to give it the tiniest smooch. âKissy spot,â he says.
~
Taemin can see Jonghyun's nipples through his shirt, and it's not even that he's staring or anything, they're just both out there to the world. He doesn't think Jonghyun notices that he notices either, because he licks his lips as he looks at something in front of him and tugs down the hem of his shirt casually. That just makes his nipples even more obvious and Taemin bites his lip as a plan forms in his head. He waits for Jonghyun to notice him, and then, quick as a flash, nuts forward, grabs the hem of Jonghyun's shirt, yanks it up, and slams his mouth right on top of his nipple. Then, while Jonghyun is busy being extremely confused and thrown off, he sticks his tongue out, latches on, and makes the grossest, wettest, sloppiest, slurpiest noise he can possibly make.
~
Taemin is conflicted. he loves when Jonghyun wears a nice red plaid flannel button-up because it makes him look super super hot and comfortable, but he hates the texture that they have and how they feel against his skin. He doesn't know how heâs supposed to lie on top of his super babely babe and snuggle him if his awful shirt is itching and bothering him the whole time. To remedy the situation, after he sits on top of Jonghyun's thighs but before he lies down on top of him, he reaches down and fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. Undoing the top, like, four, he opens up the collar of Jonghyun's shirt and rubs his hands pleasantly over his warm chest. Then he smiles, proud of himself, he lowers himself to rest his head on Jonghyun's left boob. As Jonghyun's chest shakes with laughter under him, Taemin presses the tiniest peck to his pec.
~
Jonghyun is lying on his back on the couch and Taemin is currently slithering top of him, wiggling his way up his body from his feet all the way up to his head. He means to rub his cheek all over Jonghyunâs face, pestering him and bothering him until he groans and  tries to wiggle him off and pretend like he doesn't enjoy it, but he hesitates when his ear slides past the left side of Jonghyunâs chest. He can hear Jonghyunâs heartbeat under there, relaxed and reassuring and steady. He changes his plan in favor of just settling his head right there, wrapping his arms around Jonghyunâs chest to get comfortable. Jonghyun pats his head absently, not taking his eyes from the TV. Taemin turns his head enough to gently kiss the spot over where his heart beats underneath him.
~
Jonghyun wears his buttonups with the top few buttons undone just to mess with him, Taemin knows it. He knows that Jonghyun knows that he canât resist staring at the dip of his chest, at the nice line between his muscles, at how the shirt just frames it so nicely. He knows that Jonghyun is very, very, very smug as Taemin pulls him to a corner of the bar theyâre in, wraps his arms around his waist, and dips his head to pepper soft kisses down the very center of his chest. He bites softly as well when Jonghyun hums and lazily slings his arms around his shoulders.
âIf you wanted to give me a boner you couldâve just done it at home,â he mumbles against Jonghyunâs skin.
âYeah, but whatâs the fun in flustering you in a place where you canât get embarrassed about it?â Jonghyun replies.
~
Jonghyun has a mole on his left side and Taemin wants to kiss it. It's dark in the bedroom; it's like one in the morning and Jonghyun is shuffling back into bed after peeing and neither of them want to turn the lights on, but Taemin still wants to kiss it. It's lucky that he knows exactly where it is: his left side, a little bit above the bottom of his first set of abs, a little bit further past his nipple, right on one of his ribs. When Jonghyun slides back into bed next to him, Taemin nuzzles his shoulder, wraps his arm around his waist, and   flops his whole body over his chest just so he can press his lips to the place that he has memorized.
~
âTaaaaaeeeeeemie.â
"Yes?" Taemin says. He looks down at Jonghyun in his lap, where he's been the whole time, and where he just called Taemin's name excessively loudly. Jonghyun smiles impishly and wiggles up the couch so his tummy is over Taemin's knees.
"Rubbie, " he says. Taemin smiles warmly and brings both hands to Jonghyun's tummy, rubbing it gently. He pushes his sweater up so he can rub his skin. He traces the lines of Jonghyun's abs, wiggles his fingers to gently pinch his squishy skin, and rubs his palms firmly over his tough muscle. Jonghyun almost purrs under his hands, his own hands running through and tugging on his hair happily. Â Â before long, though, he whines again.
âTaemieeeeeee.â
âYes?â Taemin says again. Jonghyun reaches up to squish his cheeks, pinching his lips up into a pucker.
âKissie,â he demands. Taemin squishes his cheeks back, enamored and endeared beyond measure. Then he bends himself over and places the softest loveliest kiss to each one of Jonghyunâs abs.
~
When Jonghyun stretches his arms up over his head, fingers laced together, back arching out, his ribs show through his skin, each line accentuated nicely. He's just getting out of bed, about ready to take a shower and start the day, and Taemin is busy trying not to wake up, but he can't resist. He pushes himself up on his elbows, wraps his arm around Jonghyunâs waist, and while he's letting his big breath out quickly in surprise, tilts his head and gives each of his ribs a good morning kiss.
~
The tattoo on Jonghyunâs side catches Taeminâs eye when they both stand up to let  an elderly couple sit down on the bus. Jonghyun reaches up to hold on to one of the handles and the hole in his sleeveless shirt dips low enough for Taemin to see the black puppy inked into his skin. Taemin rubs his thumb over the dog's head thoughtfully.
âHmm? Oh,â Jonghyun says, looking down. âGiving her a little pet?â he asks. Taemin nods, patting the puppyâs head a couple times.
âIs she being a good girl?â he asks. Jonghyun is silent for a moment, lifting his hand to rub a thumb over the tattoo himself, before he nods slowly.
âI think she's been good lately, yeah,â he says. Taemin smiles. That's good. Since he can't just crouch down and kiss Jonghyunâs side in the middle of a public bus, he presses a kiss to the pad of his thumb and then presses his thumb to the head of the dog.
~
Jonghyun was up all night last night, so Taemin isn't surprised when he gets home and Jonghyun is still snuggled up in bed. The blankets are a mess around him, sunlight peeping in through the curtains and playing over his warm golden skin. He's on his tummy with his head pillowed in his arms and when Taemin peeks into the bedroom, Jonghyun peeks his eyes open. Taemin can't see his mouth, but he can tell from the crinkle of his eyes in the roundness of his cheeks that he's smiling.
âHey,â he says. Jonghyunâs cheeks push up even more and he smushes his face into his arms. Taemin shuffles inside the bedroom to rub his hands over Jonghyunâs back. He means to give Jonghyun a little massage, but before he can start, he notices the two  moles near the center of Jonghyunâs back. He gently pokes each one with a finger and then grins when Jonghyun wiggles. He leans down to smooch them instead.
~
Lying on Jonghyunâs tummy like this, Taeminâs field of view is like 70% belly button. He's been staring at it for the better part of half an hour  while Jonghyun  watches one of his nature documentaries, and now he decides itâs good time to wiggle forward and give it a little smoochie. When he does, Jonghyun makes a disgruntled little noise and puts a hand on his head.
âDon't, do you know how nasty belly buttons are?â he says. Taemin does know, but the thing is that he doesn't care. To showcase this he sticks his tongue out and flibbles it directly into Jonghyunâs belly button. Jonghyun sighs but he also giggles at the same time and Taemin is filled with pride.
~
When Taemin walks through the front door, home from pestering Key, Jonghyun is standing in the living room, holding the PS4 controller in his hand as he stretches his arms over his head, back arched, face all scrunched up with the effort. Taemin snorts softly at his insistence on actually taking breaks from video games to stretch like some sort of health conscious human being.
Jonghyunâs shirt rides up over his stomach, exposing his belly button and a dark line of hair that runs from it and down into the  waistband of his jeans. Taeminâs eyes snap to that and immediately he's bouncing forward across the room to drop to his knees in front of Jonghyun and wrap his arms around his hips.
âOoh,â Jonghyun squeaks, exhaling all of his air in that one surprised breath, and then, âOh,âhe says. He chuckles softly as he pets Taeminâs hair and Taemin nuzzles into the hair on his tummy. It's not as long as it could be but it's still lovely and scratchy and perfect. âWhat is it with you and my happy trail?â Jonghyun asks him. Taemin kisses lightly down the line of it.
âYou always shave her away,â he mumbles. âBut she's so cute.â Jonghyun snorts and laughs at him again, but Taemin doesn't care because he's busy peppering kisses all over.
~
âYou know, you're like, a really veiny dude,â Taemin says. Jonghyun was standing in front of him as he sat on the couch trying to tell him something, but he's shirtless and his waist was directly in front of Taemin's eyes, and Taemin got distracted. He reaches forward and trails his fingers over the thin little veins that peek up from the hem of Jonghyunâs sweats. Each one is a little blue line that looks extremely kissable.
âThanks,â Jonghyun tells him. âDo you want to go out to dinner or what?â he asks. Taemin tugs him forward with hands on his hips and gently pecks the veins on his left side.
âSure,â he says as he moves over to kiss the ones on his right.
~
Jonghyun is talking to Jinki â well, they're both both talking to him, honestly, but Taemin is losing focus fast. Part of it is just his lack of an attention span, but another part is that he is becoming overwhelmed with the quiet but intense desire to pull Jonghyun close and kiss him. He can't kiss Jonghyun on the mouth, sadly, but he can pull Jonghyun around the kitchen table, take a seat, and wrap his arm around Jonghyun's thighs. From there, he noses into the hem of Jonghyun's shirt, pushing it up so he can trail his lips over Jonghyun's side, his pretty waist, and press warm soft kisses to his skin.
~
Taemin loves Jongyhunâs wiggly dance, and he especially loves it when Jonghyun is doing it in celebration of him royally stomping Minhoâs ass into the ground in the video game that they're playing. It's not often that he beats Minho at a video game and it's even less often that he beats him this badly, so Taemin revels in the way Minho slouches so low on the couch that he rolls off of it and just lies on the floor in bitter defeat while Jonghyun wiggles his hips and raises his hands up and down and does his biggest and loudest and most highest pitched woohoo. The hips are the cutest part, Taemin thinks, so while Jonghyun is still  dancing supportively, he leans forward to rest his cheek against his waist and then dips his head just low enough to  kiss his right hip every time he sways it closer.
~
Jonghyun is particularly fond of not putting a shirt on in the mornings and going through their sleepy breakfasts shirtless, something that Taemin is 97% sure he does 60% just because Taemin thinks it's really hot and Jonghyun loves when Taemin thinks he's really hot. At the present moment, Taemin is watching Jonghyun at the stove as he flips banana pancakes. Well, more specifically, Taemin is watching his lower back, where his faint stretch marks draw lines through his skin. Taemin reaches out the hand from where he's sitting at the table to ghost his fingers over Jonghyunâs stretch marks. Jonghyun shivers just at the touch; to make him shiver even more, Taemin scoots forward and trails his lips gently along each line.
~
Jonghyun is lying on his stomach on the floor, and he's shirtless, and he's wearing his tight white jeans with the studded black belt, and all of that adds up into Taeminâs eyes immediately zooming in on the top of his ass that peeks out from his waistband. The tops of his cute booty cheeks always make an appearance when he wears these jeans, small and flat but still adorable and round. Taemin does what any sensible human being would do and drops to his knees on the carpet, then leans down, gathering two nice handfuls of Jonghyunâs booty and leaning his head even further down to smack two wet kissies, one to the top of each cheek.
~
âDude. Hey. Stop,â Jonghyun mumbles. Taemin blinks out of his thoughts as Jonghyun slaps at his hands.He's sitting on the couch, and Jonghyun is lying over him with his butt over his lap, and Taemin was absentmindedly papping out a beat on his booty as he  watched TV. âMy butt, like, hurts,â Jonghyun grumbles.
âOh,â Taemin says. âWhoops.â He guesses he was going a little harder than he meant to. He switches to rub Jonghyunâs butt instead, gently, a little apology massage for his favorite booty. He even tugs Jonghyunâs hips up and lowers his head down to press a kissy to his booty cheeks to help them feel better.
~
Taemin is flopped out in bed when Jonghyun saunters in from the bathroom, naked and slightly moist from his shower. He's going out somewhere populated and fun tonight while Taemin is going to stay in and have his own fun doing nothing by himself. Jonghyun flips his wet hair up into a suave little flip, gives Taemin a finger pistol, and walks to their dresser, where he opens his shirt drawer and then just leans on it, looking in. Taeminâs eyes fall from his head to his back to his booty, cute and flat and easily reachable from his position on the bed.
So Taemin half rolls over to reach it, extending one finger and sliding it quickly down the crack of his ass.
âBeep beep,â he says. Jonghyun pauses for a moment and then looks at him with an incredulous breathy laugh.
âDid you just beep beep my buttcrack?â he asks. Taemin grins wide as he nods his head up and down quickly.
âYeah, uh, I'd like to make a purchase, please,â he says. Jonghyun snorts, looking down into the dresser again for a quick second before he looks back up with a cocked brow.
âYeah?â He twists so his butt is more facing towards Taemin. âDo it again,â he says. Taemin lifts his hand to do it again, anticipating whatever it is that Jonghyun plans to say next. He doesn't say anything; he's silent for a few seconds, and then he scrunches up his face for a few more seconds, and then he deflates in a burst of breathy, defeated giggles that he hides behind his hands.
âI tried so hard to fart, dude, I'm so disappointed,â he laughs. Taemin bursts into his own giggles. That would have been so good. Â Partly to comfort Jonghyun, and partly to show appreciation for what would have been a great joke, and partly just because he wants to, Taemin sits up and kisses the line of his booty.
~
Taemin has seen a depressingly low amount of cute booty holes in the sexy way in his life, but still, he has nothing to complain about when the cute booty hole that he gets to see the most of is Jonghyunâs. Jonghyun is currently panting underneath him, face pressed into the pillows to muffle his whiny noises as Taemin spreads his cheeks open and bites his lip at the first look of his booty hole of the day. Cute and dark and pretty and adorable, like always. He rubs his thumbs around it, gently, a little massage, before he leans down to press a tiny soft kissy directly onto it. It really is his favorite booty hole. He smiles and smooches it again, and then again, and then another time, and then Jonghyun whines loudly at him from the pillows.
âQuit it,â he pouts. âJust eat me out already,â he demands. Taemin huffs, annoyed.
âAsshole,â he snaps. âI'm trying to make you feel special,â he says. Jonghyun kicks him gently in the leg.
âI don't caââ he interrupts himself by bursting into giggles. Taemin blinks, confused at his sudden switch, and paps his booty gently with both hands as he makes a questioning noise. Between gasps of laughter, Jonghyun says, âYou fucking â called me an asshole while â you were kissing myââ and then he doesn't finish and just bubbles up into even more giggles, feet kicking in the air.
~
âSo,â Taemin says as Jonghyun crosses his right ankle over his left knee, back flat on the floor. He watches as Jonghyun locks his hands around his left thigh and pulls up, nose scrunching at the stretch. âBesides, like, staying flexible enough to let people hold your legs like five miles apart when you're fucking,â he says, âwhy do you do these stretches all the time?â
âI don't know, it's good for you, I guess,â Jonghyun says. âWhat if the apocalypse happens and I'm being chased by zombies and I can't run good because my hips aren't stretched enough?â He turns his head and lifts his brows at Taemin questioningly. Taemin  shrugs back. That's a good point.
âIf you weren't wearing sweats, I could see your taint,â he points out then. He reaches out and pokes where the little patch of skin between Jonghyunâs booty and balls rests and would be perfectly visible and exposed in this position. Jonghyunâs fingers almost slip apart around his thigh as he laughs.
âDon't say the word taint to me,â he says. Taemin grins at him around his knee and pokes his taint harder.
âMoist taint,â he says clearly. Jonghyun lets his legs fall down, partly to cover his face with giggles and partly because his stretch was over, Taemin thinks.
âOkay, yeah, you can say that again to the me,â Jonghyun says as he crosses his legs the other way to stretch his left hip. Taemin crawls forward to kiss Jonghyunâs taint through his sweats, making the most gremliniest sound he can muster before whispering, âMoist taint.â
~
Jonghyun is on his back in bed when Taemin passes the doorway. He's in one of his loose tank tops and some boxers and he's holding a book over his head and his legs are sprawled out over the sheets and there is an amorphous blob on his thigh andâ
Taemin stops in his track as he does a double-take and squints inside Jonghyunâs boxers, trying to figure out what the fuckâ
âOh, it's just your balls,â he says with a sigh of relief. It's just a half shadowed little testy peeking out of the cloth. That makes sense. That's okay. As Jonghyun frowns at him, confused, Taemin walks into the room, clambers onto the bed, lowers his head, and pushes the leg of Jonghyunâs boxers up enough so that he can give his not amorphous blob a kiss.
~
Jonghyun is lying naked on the floor, as he does, and when Taemin walks into the living room and finds him, his eyes travel down his whole body until they land on his ween, soft and gently curved up onto his tummy. He looks at it for two seconds and then says the first thing that enters his brain: âI'm going to bite your dick off.â
âDon't bite my dick off,â Jonghyun says, not looking up from his phone.
âI'm  gonna do it,â Taemin repeats. He steps forward, he gets to his knees, he flumps down over Jonghyunâs thighs. âHere I go,â he says, and he opens his mouth and gently clamps his teeth on the shaft of Jonghyunâs ween.
âHow dare,â Jonghyun mumbles. Taemin opens and closes his mouth quickly, making little chomping noises without actually putting any pressure with his teeth. Then, when he gets tired of that five seconds later, he just smiles and kisses Jonghyunâs ween instead.
~
The head of Jonghyunâs dick is the cutest peen head that Taemin has ever seen or tasted. The tasting part isn't that impressive â he's only had like three dicks in his mouth in his life, including his own â but he has seen a lot of dicks and a lot of dick heads and Jonghyunâs is by far his most favorite one. Soft and round and cute, he holds Jonghyunâs dick in his hand and rubs his thumb over the head, smiling against it as he presses little kisses to it, trailing his lips from side-to-side to kiss it from every angle. Every now and again a little drop of pre-come leaks from the tip of his dick and down the side, so Taemin tilts his head to lick it up and then kiss where the drip disappeared.
âYou know,â Jonghyun murmurs. His hand plays with Taeminâs hair, petting the strands back out of his eyes. âUsually when someone says, âI want to blow you,â they usually go, like, farther than this.â
âWhat? Oh,â Taemin says. Oops. He got distracted. âSorry,â he grins. He kisses the head of Jonghyunâs dick one more time before he wraps his lips around it and starts to actually blow him.
~
Taemin knows he's not weird for thinking this, but he knows that Jonghyun will think he's weird for doing it, so he only has a few seconds between when Jonghyun finishes peeing and puts his dick back away into his undies to do it. it's not graceful, either, when he slides to his knees on the cramped bathroom floor, pushes Jonghyunâs hip so he turns, and just straight-up grabs his dick, but the little smoochie that he gives to his weenie hole for being cute and round and cute and adorable is worth it. Jonghyun doesn't even react other than to sigh quietly and ruffle Taeminâs hair.
~
There's not a lot of things that Taemin can do to really tease Jonghyun â he's sensitive all over and has learned through training and practice how to get a nut out of almost everything â but one thing that gets him shivery and beggy is the creases of his thighs. Which works out great for Taemin because he thinks that they're real hot and real pretty and he loves to lie Jonghyun down and rub his thumbs up and down them slowly. He would love it even if it didn't have such an effect on Jonghyun; the begging is just a bonus. Jonghyun pleads with him to do something else so Taemin smiles as pleasantly as he can and leans in, pushes Jonghyunâs legs up further and a wider apart, and trails slow kisses over the creases of his thighs.
~
Jonghyun and Key have been bickering about something for like twenty minutes in the kitchen, but Taemin was more interested in his tacky judge shows on TV so he didn't feel like going to check it out. Until now, when their raised voices sound much more like arguing than bickering and he feels responsible enough to go at least watch, if not break it up.
âNo listen, asshole,â Jonghyun is snapping when Taemin peeps in the doorway. âWhen I sit down and slouch and my tummy goes  blub blub blub blub,â Jonghyun sits down and slouches and lifts his shirt to poke the rolls of tummy fat that appear, âthat is a separate part of my body and only exists when I do this. It's the same thing.â
âIt is not the same thing,â Key snaps back. âThat's not even how it works. Your tummy fat is still there even if you can't see it all of the time. Your ass and your thigh are two different parts of the body and they just transition from one in to the other without any extra  hidden body part appearing.â
Taemin feels a little lost. He doesn't know how they went from tummy rolls to the under booty crease. Before he can step further into the kitchen and ask, Jonghyun spots and then points dramatically at him, announcing his name loudly to the room. After Taemin startles, Jonghyun stands up and turns so his back is facing him, looking over his shoulder to keep looking at him.
âIs this part of my butt slash thigh,â he says, reaching down to feel up the underside of his butt where it meets his thigh, âa separate part of my body from both the butt and the thigh?â he asks.
âWell,â Key huff's, walking forward and bending to pick up one of Jonghyunâs legs. âYou gotta show him both options,â he says. He makes Jonghyun put his leg up on the chair and then dramatically frames where his butt curves smoothly into his thigh. âIs that not the same part of the body?â he asks. âThere is no extra body part, right?â
âUm,â Taemin says. He looks between them and feels like this is a conversation that he shouldn't be getting himself into, but he also looks at Jonghyunâs butt and decides that it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look. He steps forward and then sits down on the tile of the kitchen floor, reaching up with both hands to feel up Jonghyunâs curved booty cheek and uncurved booty cheek over his jeans. âHmmm,â he hums thoughtfully, hands rubbing and squishing gently. His scientific opinion is that either way Jonghyunâs butt is extremely cute. He feels Jonghyun up for just long enough for them to realize that he's just feeling Jonghyun up, and then, before they can tsk at him and  shoo him away, leans up and smooches the crease under Jonghyun's butt cheek.
âIf it's something I can kiss then it's a different part of the body,â he says firmly as he stands up. Jonghyun pumps his fists in victory as Key rolls his eyes.
~
âCan I give your thigh a hickey?â Taemin asks, voice muffled because he has his face pressed against the back of Jonghyunâs right thigh. It's very soft and warm and he's been enjoying lying here on Jonghyunâs legs while Jonghyun lies on his stomach and taps away on his laptop.
âWhy?â Jonghyun asks blandly. His leg shifts under Taeminâs face and Taemin assumes that he's twisting to look at him over his shoulder. He shrugs.
âWanna,â he says.
âMaybe later,â Jonghyun tells him. âI gotta drive to the recording studio tomorrow and I don't want to sit on a bruise the whole way there.â Taemin shrugs, partly in disappointment, partly in acceptance. Okay. He just kisses Jonghyunâs thigh instead, snuggling close and dropping wet, open mouth kisses all over.
~
The insides of Jonghyunâs thighs are so smooth and soft and pretty. Whenever he's just in his undies or he's wearing shorts or a skirt, Taemin always winds up laying or sitting between his legs just  so he can nuzzle his cheek against his lovely soft skin. Heâs doing that now, as they all lie on the floor, him and Jonghyun and Jinki, watching some movie and laying on top of each other. Taemin has seen this movie before so he's kind of zoning out and focusing instead on Jonghyunâs thighs, where he can press soft, light kisses all over each one. He feels like maybe he's teasing Jonghyun  on accident, if the way he bumps his knee into  Taeminâs shoulder every now and again with rising insistence means anything, but he's having fun, so he keeps doing it.
~
Taemin doesn't know how he got roped into this little local sports event thing, where he's wandering around the center of a track trying to find somewhere where he doesn't melt in the sun. He thinks Jonghyun convinced him with words like âcharityâ and âfunâ and âfood afterâ. Either way, he's hot and bored and when he catches sight of Jonghyun further down the turf, wandering around as well and talking to some of the other attendees with the scrunchie bottoms of his pants hiked up all the way over his thighs, Taemin stops in his tracks and just stares for a little bit.
Jonghyunâs thighs are. So great. He doesn't know shit about muscles or anything but he knows there very cute and pretty and they need to be kissed right now at this very second. He jogs over to Jonghyunâs group of people that are enjoying all of the sporty track and field stuff more than Taemin can ever pretend to care and sits down on the fake grass next to him, resting his head on his thigh. When Jonghyun turns to pet his hair and ask him how he's doing, Taemin paps one of his thighs gently and drops a kiss to the front of his other.
~
It's supremely unfair, Taemin thinks, for Jonghyun to take him out to lunch and wear a pair of jeans with big holes over the knees. His knees are sooooooo cute in those jeans, round and smooth and slightly knobby and looking like they're begging for kissies under the cafe table. Taemin is almost pouting with how unfair it is that it's not socially acceptable for him to clamber under the table just so he can smooch Jonghyunâs knees.
It's the first thing that he does when they get home. He gently ushers Jonghyun to sit down on the couch and then sits down on the floor in front of him, one hand feeling up each knee with slow circular motions as Jonghyun giggles at him. Taemin doesn't let him get up until he's given each knee at least seven kisses.
~
It's very nice to be sitting here on the floor between Jonghyunâs knees while Jonghyun sits on the couch and plays with his hair. It's very nice and soothing and stimmy to feel Jonghyunâs soft skin against his cheek and his fingers against his scalp and the brush of tiny braids and the clatter of little butterfly clippies every time he moves his head. He's zoning out, staring dully at the side of Jonghyunâs inner knee, the knobbly bits, the webby of skin on the underside, the smooth space in between. He likes the way it looks and when Jonghyun takes his hands away to reach for another hair bobble, Taemin leans forward and brushes his lips against the side of his knee.
~
Lying on the floor like this with the backs of Jonghyunâs thighs as a pillow, Jonghyunâs legs kicking daintily in the air as he flirts with Jinki on his phone, Taemin  is face-to-face with the underside of his knee. The knee pit, as he likes to call it, specifically to bother Minho, who hates when he calls it that. It's smooth and soft, the skin delicate enough to see little veins underneath. Taemin wants to kiss it, so he does, wiggling forward an inch so he can kiss it gently. Jonghyun giggles in a startled way but doesn't tell him to stop, so he kisses it more, just because he wants to, until it sparks a sort of familiarity in him and makes a smirk grow on his lips. He licks his lips, sucks in a big breath, and before Jonghyun can realize what he's about to do and say more than âDon'tââ, latches onto the underside of his knee and blows a big raspberry.
~
âSnippy snippy...Stimmy stimmy....â Taemin hums to himself as he gently snips away at the hair on Jonghyunâs calf. They're at Minhoâs soccer practice, chilling on the sidelines to watch and support him on a day where Jonghyun doesn't hate the sun as much as he usually does, and Jonghyun is lying on his tummy with his chin in his hands as he watches. Taemin got bored, found a pair of scissors, found Jonghyun's left leg, and got to work amusing himself. He likes how he can feel every tiny resistance from every strand of hair that he snips and he likes how it feels prickly against his skin when he rubs his thumb over it and soft in other areas. Â He likes it a lot â and then he gets bored. He hesitates, looks at the uneven patch of hair that he cut off, and then shrugs, putting the scissors down.
âFinished,â he says, tapping Jonghyunâs leg gently with his fingers. Jonghyun props himself up on his forearm and turns to look back at Taeminâs work. When he sees, he bursts into laughter and reaches back to feel it himself.
âThat is absolutely. Not finished,â he says. Taemin shrugs lazily back. He brushes little bits of hair off of Jonghyunâs calf, and then leans down and puckers his lips to press a quick smoochie to it.
âNow it is,â he says.
~
Jonghyun is all bundled up in bed, blankies covering all of him except for his shin, where his leg sticks out and the bottom of his sweats rides up to around his knee. His skin is warm and golden, his hair is soft and dark, his shin has that weird shin shine that always shows up on anyone's shin for no reason no matter what the light level is. Taemin zeroes in on that little patch of exposed skin and feels an immense softness fill him all the way up on the inside. Jonghyun is so cute all the time in every area no matter what. He was about to leave to go hang out with some friends but he takes a moment to walk up to the bed, bend over, feel up Jonghyunâs leg, and leave a soft kiss on his shin. Then, while Jonghyun is giggling and blushing, he pulls the blankies over his leg and pets him gently.
~
âMmmmmmm...ha!â Before Taemin can look around to see what Jonghyun was humming about, Jonghyun shows him by sticking his leggy out really far and directly into his face. Taemin finds himself suddenly face to face with Jonghyunâs skin, the curve where his leg turns into his foot. âDelicate and seductive,â Jonghyun purrs from the other side of the couch, nudging  Taemin's chin with it and poking his temple with his big toe. âExemplify your reverence towards my beautiful existence,â he demands. Taemin bursts into giggles and grabs Jonghyunâs ankle to hold it steady.
âSure,â he says and lifts Jonghyunâs foot slightly higher so he can kiss the curve of it gently.
~
âHey.â
âWuh?â Taemin looks up from his lovely floor nap when a shoe lightly kicks his shoulder. He opens his eyes, then scrunches them against the light of  the sun coming in through the living room window. He feels up for Jonghyun instead, and finds his leg, which he latches onto sleepily. âWhat?â he mumbles. When he speaks, his lips brush against weird shoelace texture, so he lifts his head until he finds skin. It's Jonghyunâs ankle, he's pretty sure, and he smiles against it.
âDo you wanna âdon't,â Jonghyun jumps slightly when Taemin gently kisses his ankle, tugging his foot out of his grasp. Taemin wiggles over the floor until he latches onto Jonghyunâs other foot. âDo you wantâoh my gosh.â This time, when Taemin kisses Jonghyunâs inside ankle and Jonghyun tries to step away again, Taemin clings to him with all of his strength and kisses him more. âI'm going to go to McDonald's without you,â Jonghyun threatens.
âNooooo,â Taemin wails dramatically. He kisses Jonghyunâs ankle once more before he stumbles clumsily to his feet and nuzzles into Jonghyunâs shoulder.
~
Jonghyun is standing in front of the living room window, watching the street and waiting for Minho to come over and pick him up and take him out for a nice date or whatever, and Taemin is lying on the floor behind him, curled up in a blanket cocoon and rubbing his thumb and down his achilles tendon.
At least, that's what he thinks it is. He's not too sure about anatomy but he's pretty sure that this is the one part where if you get hit here then you become a Greek legend and everyone makes fun of you for thousands of years. He feels it under his thumb, skin slightly dry, not wrinkled but kind of creased, the toughness of the tendon and then the give of the hollowish spots on either side of it, Â all of it incredibly boring if not for the fact that it's all connected to Jonghyun. Jonghyun is great. And his Greek myth tendon deserves a kissy, so he gives it a kiss, and then tilts his head to gently peck either side of it as well. Above him, Jonghyun hums vaguely in thanks.
~
âTaemieeee,â Jonghyun calls when Taemin walks past the bedroom door. Taemin pauses, backs up a couple steps, and peeks inside to find Jonghyun on his tummy on the bed, chin propped up in his hands and feet kicking playfully in the air. âTaemie, aren't I cute?â he asks, fluttering both his lashes and his fingers on his cheeks. Taemin smiles on the inside, softness filling him all up, and  nods. Jonghyun flushes with happiness and wiggles his shoulders. âWhat about me is cute?â he asks. That makes Taemin chuckle. Oh. He's looking for validation.
He steps inside the bedroom, crossing his arms and tapping his foot and pouting slightly to make it look like he's really concentrating. Everything about Jonghyun is cute, but what Taemin finds his eyes drawn to this time are his heels, exposed by how both of his socks are only half on his feet, looking very soft and round and adorable as they swing through the air in lazy arcs. Â Taemin walks forward so he can grab Jonghyunâs ankle and stop his little kicks in mid-air. As Jonghyun squeaks in surprise, Taemin ducks down to smooch his heel and then give it a gentle pat.
~
âTireeeeeeed,â Jonghyun wails as he starfishes himself out on the couch, head against the back, arms drooping down the cushions, legs sprawled over the carpet. Taemin smiles as he sits himself in front of Jonghyun. He's been whining since they got into the car after their date. It's very cute. âI'm just gonna sleep here on the couch like this,â Jonghyun says. He closes his eyes and everything and Taemin chuckles. He's tired himself, but he reaches for Jonghyunâs ankle and picks up his foot so he can take his shoes off for him.
When he pulls off Jonghyunâs right boot, his sock comes with it and Taemin is left just holding his foot. He looks at it, at the bottom of it, all wrinkly and full of lines, almost like a palm but not. He brings his other hand up to rub his thumb over the sole of Jonghyunâs foot, smoothing out the wrinkles before he gently pinches them with two fingers. Soft. And cute. And very lovely. Andâ
âDude, don't,â Jonghyun says. Taemin glances up to see Jonghyun looking down at him through sleepily cracked eyes.
âDon't what?â he asks.
âDo not put your mouth on my sweaty foot,â Jonghyun says. Taemin glances to his foot again and then back to him, raising one brow.
âWhy not?â he asks. Jonghyun exhales a soft laugh.
âBecause it's sweaty and gross,â he says.
âHmm,â Taemin hums. He examines Jonghyunâs foot for another few seconds and then, holding it in both hands, rests his face right up against it, nestling in comfortably. The sound of their skin meeting is a tiny little slap and the sound Jonghyun makes is a tinier little sigh. Taemin smiles, blinking slowly at him with the one eye that isn't pressed up against the ball of his foot. âI borderline felched your belly button that one time,â he says. âI don't know why you thought your sweaty foot would repulse me.â This time when Jonghyun sighs he does it with his cheek resting in his hand in the most fond and enamored smile on his lips.
âJust kiss me and take my other shoe off,â he says, and Taemin obeys. When he takes Jonghyunâs  left shoe off, he kisses that foot too.
~
When the commercial finally hits, Taemin takes the opportunity to let loose the monster of a yawn he'd been holding in for the last like five minutes. He leans his head back against the back of the couch, eyes scrunched shut and mouth open wide. Then he just sits there like that for a minute, smacking his lips sleepily. Opening his eyes, he squints at a fuzzy pink blob and slowly blinks it into focus. It's Jonghyunâs left foot, crossed over his other ankle, both propped up on the back of the couch. Neat. Taemin appreciates it for a second before he leans his head up and smooches the ball of his foot gently.
~
Being upside down in bed is second only to being on the floor, in Taeminâs opinion. There's something about it, something about being in a place that's meant for lying down but lying down in it in a way that it's not meant to be lied down in, that's incredibly good and free and queer. Like sitting wrong in a chair, or on a kitchen counter. It's good.
It also means that whenever he does it heâs often face-to-face with Jonghyunâs feet, but he never really minds that much. He appreciates it very much right now, in fact, because while Jonghyun is twiddling away on his phone, Taemin has been resting his head in his arms and tracing the veins and lines that play over the tops of his feet with his eyes in great detail. It's fascinating, how many little intricate details can be in one area and also how strongly his mind can cling to them as something to be interested in. Taemin is staring at a particularly clear and soft area of Jonghyunâs foot when he suddenly gets the irresistible urge to smooch.
So he does, lifting his head and leading the few inches over to plant his lips on the top of Jonghyunâs foot. He kisses the intersection of a couple of veins, too, just to be thorough, and smiles when Jonghyun gently nudges his cheek with the side of his foot.
~
Taemin feels like, with all of his years of life, he should remember whether or not his toes have hair on them. He's pretty sure that they do; his fingers do, and Jonghyunâs toes do, where he's playing with them in his lap as Jonghyun dozes on the couch with Roo on his tum. He rubs his fingers over Jonghyunâs toe knuckles, feeling the hair under his skin, pinching them and pulling them gently with two fingers. He feels like, whether or not his own toes are hairy, and whether or not he should be worried about how little he knows about his own body, his conclusion out of all of this is that Jonghyunâs hairy toes deserve kisses. He picks up Jonghyunâs foot by the heel and gives a little peck to each knuckle on his toes.
~
âAnd you couldn't relight this yourself?â Taemin asks as he picks up Jonghyunâs lighter from the rim of the bathtub with one hand and a tiny pink candle with the other.
âAnd what, get water drips in the wax?â Jonghyun asks, offended. Taemin chuckles and shakes his head as the wick takes the flame. Good point, he guesses. Putting the candle and lighter down, he leaves his elbows on the rim of the tub and smiles at Jonghyun in there, covered up to the neck in pink bubbles.
âHaving fun?â he asks. Jonghyun nods eagerly. He lifts one foot out of the water and crosses it over his other knee, wiggling his toes    prettily.
âI'm glittery,â he smiles. Taemin looks closer; he is indeed glittery, tiny specks of pink and white and red dotting his skin.
âYou sure are,â Taemin agrees, pushing himself higher on his knees to lean over the tub and smooch Jonghyunâs glittery toes.
~
âTaem?â Jonghyun calls, walking down the hallway. âDid you want something?â he asks. Taemin huddles around the corner, waiting for him to pass. He absolutely wants something, but it's absolutely a surprise. âTaemin?â Jonghyunâs voice is louder now, closer; any second now he's gonnaâ
âAha!â Taemin exclaims, skillfully rolling into the hallway after Jonghyun and grabbing onto his leg. Jonghyun shrieks in surprise as Taemin kisses where his little baby sock clings around his ankle. From there, Taemin kisses his calf, and then kisses it again up higher, and then a third time, but now his lips land on Jonghyunâs shin, because Jonghyun is turning around in his hold.
âGave me a fucking heart attack,â he snaps, shaking his leg to try to get Taemin off. Taemin grins his gremliniest grin up at him as he kisses his knee.
âGotcha,â he says. While Jonghyun is rolling his eyes he smooches up his thigh as well, gripping his legs with little hands and squishing gently. He's a little uneven as he gets to his knees one at a time, so he uses that and the fact that Jonghyun is still trying to worm away from him as an excuse to lean over and bite Jonghyunâs booty cheek through his little short boardshorts style undies before kissing his other booty cheek when Jonghyun squeaks and turns sharply. He moves on and up to smoochy over Jonghyunâs back through his shirt until Jonghyun turns back around and he's kissing his tummy instead, wiggling his fingers in between shirt  buttons to expose skin that he can graze his lips over. Â
âTaemin,â Jonghyun says, giggling, backing up and getting his hands under Taemin's shoulders. It feels like he doesn't know whether he's trying to help Taemin stand or push him away, and he backs himself up into the wall of the hallway, and he's giggling the whole time as Taemin finds where his top shirt buttons are undone and takes heavy advantage by peppering kisses all over his chest as he stands up. âOh my gosh,â he says as Taemin pays special attention to the mole between his collar bones.
One of Jonghyun's hands cups Taeminâs chin, trying to pull him up, probably for a mouth kiss; Taemin grabs his hand and kisses his fingers, his knuckles, the back of it, up his forearm, the inside of his elbow,  his biceps, his shoulder, all the way up to his neck. All the while Jonghyun is laughing and trying to say his name between bubbles of giggles. Once he gets there, he rests one hand on  Jonghyunâs hip and the other forearm on the wall next to his head, pressing him warmly against the wall.
Taemin is extremely proud of himself so far for how well his plan is working. He kisses up Jonghyunâs neck, the point of his jaw, his chin, the corner of his lips, and hovers over his mouth for just enough time for Jonghyun to expect a mouth kiss before he tilts his face up a fraction and pecks the tip of his nose instead.
âTae,â Jonghyun whines. Taemin presses a smile to the apple of his cheek. âAre youââ Taemin kisses the flat of his cheek. âAre you doââ Taemin kisses his ear, and then his temple. âYou're stillâ fuckââ Taemin presses the gentlest peck to his scrunched-up eyelid and then the other. Then he smooches between Jonghyunâs eyes and then the center of his forehead. âAre you finished?â Jonghyun finally manages to say. Taemin smiles against his hair as he stands on his tiptoes to kiss the top of his head.
âNever,â he says firmly. He kisses down Jonghyunâs face again, but this time, he lets Jonghyun hold his cheeks in both hands and guide their mouths together to share a kiss. The kiss is half of a sigh of relief from Jonghyun and half of a smug smirk from Taemin. He wraps his arms all the way around Jonghyunâs waist to hold him close and hums lightly when Jonghyunâs fingers thread through his hair. Pulling back slowly with a couple of  soft pecks, he rests their foreheads together for a moment. âYou know everytime I kiss you like that just because it means I love you, right?â he asks. Jonghyunâs soft laugh fans out against his face and he brings their  mouths together again for another kiss.
âYeah,â he says. âI believe you.â Taemin squeezes him imperceptibly tighter, wanting to feel Jonghyunâs heartbeat against his own. Good.
#jongtae#jonghyun#Kissie Jonghyun Day#taemin#r#fluff#by the way like more than half of this was written using speech to text so if any part of it is funky or weird. That's why lamo#I love him a whole lot and I want to kiss him a whole lot#ydw#đ
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tea time for @dumberer and eruri week â18. prompt: carrying
erwin has known levi for almost a decade. it is to the point that erwin doesnât quite remember a time before him--the times before having a vacant side of the bed, before having only one toothbrush, before all the healthy food stocked to the brim in his fridge. but he doesnât quite want to remember a time without him--levi has integrated himself into the part of erwinâs life that he didnât realize was so incomplete, so dull, so empty. levi is, in so many words, his soulmate.
but in his ten years, in the ten beautiful, sometimes painfully frustrating, but incredibly fulfilling years--heâs never seen levi drunk.
âerwwwiiin.â
erwin drapes his arm over his eyes, the dull light of the living room shooting a painful migraine through the entire globe of his head. âshut up.â
âno. hey.â levi coughs. âerwwwiiin.â
âstop it. leave me alone.â
thereâs shuffling, a thud and a shake as it seems levi has fallen off the couch and onto the floor. âmy leggies donâ work.â
âlevi.â
âerwwwiiin...â thereâs some slapping on the wood floor and another thud. âi got some shit... i got... uh... why canât i stand?â
âyouâre drunk.â
âoh my god, erwin, are my legs... where did my legs go!?â
erwin raises his arm slightly, peeks at levi whoâs face down on the floor, his butt wiggling as it seems heâs trying to remember how to walk. he smiles. âtheyâre attached to your ass, you ass.â
levi pauses, his hips a few inches off the ground, his face still buried in the floor. he groans, âoh.â
âdumbass.â
âyer...â levi snorts into the floor as his hips drop, and he breathes out heavily through his nose. âwhatever...â
the room is quiet for a few minutes, until the unfamiliar sound of leviâs snoring saws through the hotel room. erwin groans, breathing raspberries between his lips and turning his swimming head to look down at his pathetic excuse of a husband.Â
but he was proud of him. god, he had never been more proud of him. earlier that day, levi had presented at one of the largest technical conferences in the country. he was swarmed by men with groomed facial hair, thick rimmed glasses, and business cards with geometric sans-serif typography, their lips full of offerings of local breweries and their sweet nectars of âthe worldâs best ipasâ. levi had wanted to decline, dug his hand deep into his denim jeans as he forced a thin smile and an apologetic dismissal. but erwin had convinced him to agree--he earned it. he deserved to kick back.
levi didnât drink. levi was, for all intents and purposes, a lightweight.
erwin left levi with his dignity. they dismissed themselves from a group of fifteen self-proclaimed full-stack developers, erwin placing his hand on the back of leviâs neck to keep him steady after the 16oz of âdisgusting bullshitâ he just drank. the texas summer heat dragged his husbandâs feet along brick streets until he swerved into the side of a building after a bought of uncontrollable giggling.
âletâs get fucked up.â levi looked up at erwin, his mouth covered by his hand, and erwin found the giggles quite contagious.
they emptied a bottle of wine together in their bed and breakfast, their clothes slowly peeling away between lazy kisses that smelled thick of alcohol. their legs were entangled on the small sofa, the tv droning the local news and weather before the late night talk hosts started shooting quip after quip that had levi hanging halfway off the furniture in pained amusement.
until he ended up on the floor, nearly naked, ass-up, and definitively drunk.
âget up,â erwin groans.
levi mumbles on the floor, shifting slightly as he rolls onto his side, his back slamming into the couch. âouch.â
âcomâmon.â erwin rises from his lounging position, steadying himself on the back of the seat as he wobbles slightly. he was, without a doubt, better at holding his liquor than levi, but he also had downed three times more alochol than his husband. he plants a foot on the floor next to leviâs hand, and contemplates his life, the universe, and how many steps it would take to get to the bathroom.
he makes it, somehow. his legs are present and still functional, but for the first time in decades he has the spins. he leans on the sink, clambers at the fresh glasses near the faucet and drinks three full glasses of tap water before releasing the seal into the toilet. he pisses for what feels like eternity, and he nearly pisses all over the floor when he hears levi shouting for him to âfinish up alreadyâ.
erwin returns into the bedroom, wearing nothing but his underwear and socks, and takes nearly a minute to get to his knees next to levi. he pushes a firm hand into leviâs shoulder. âwake up, babe.â
ââm âwake.â
âsit up.â
âno.â
âhoney.â
ânnnnnnno.â levi says, with the same petulance as a child.
âyou have to drink some water.â
ârabies...â
âwhat?â
ââve got... rabies...â
erwin bellows a laugh, causing him to wince against his headache, and he leans heavily into the couch. âno you donât.â
âno wawa.â
erwin leans over and places his hands under leviâs armpits and drags him along the floor. levi squirms, complaining the whole time. âletâs get you to bed.âÂ
âerwwwiiiinnnnnnnnaahhhh.â he kicks his feet and managed to get onto his hands and knees. he faces off with erwin, glaring with half-lidded eyes and mussed up hair, before falling forward into erwinâs chest, drool dripping into the soft fluff of chest hair.
it takes a lot of finagling and a lot of mind over matter, but erwin manages to get levi sitting in his lap, legs drapped on either side of his hips. he braces on the couch, his one arm under leviâs ass, and with a tired old groan, he lifts the both of them and shuffles them over to the bed. he places levi down, but before he can leave to get some water, levi latches his limbs around erwin. âdarling?â
âi fucking love you,â levi mutters into erwinâs neck. âlike... i love you. do you... do you under... hm.â leviâs limbs turn into noodles, and he falls back onto the made bed.
the confession is sobering, and erwin chuckles a little as he gently pats leviâs thigh. âi love you, too.â
it takes another fifteen minutes or so for erwin to sober up enough for the room to stop spinning. he gets levi under the blankets and forces him to drink four glasses of water before letting him finally rest against his side. erwin runs gentle fingers along the plains of muscles of leviâs back, touches along his jaw, and the shell of his ear. he cards through his hair, smiles as levi buries his nose into his ribs, kicks his leg up over his waist, and completes the missing half that erwin very vaguely remembers having, but is glad he never has to feel again.
#eruriweek#eruri#erwin smith#levi ackerman#snk#aot#my eruri#eruri fic#ack fic#titan fic#tea time#i'm kinda making fun of myself here tbh#and i like my modern levi's to be terrible drinkers
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Can you write a fic based on the baby shower episode? Or when where cc reassures him how much she loves him. Ive already read all of your fics. Lol
Aw, Iâm actually so happy to have such a dedicated fan! I incorporated a little of both elements in this fic, so I hope you enjoy it! And I do apologise for it taking so long, I hope itâs good enough to make up for all the time spent waiting.
Also, if you are the same anon (or if they are reading this) who asked for the other fic, it is also being worked on and you shall have it soon!
@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty
âOkay, so letâs go over it again. Iâll say the beginningpart, and you finish my sentence,â she told him, keeping her voice level andpatient. âI came to Los Angeles toâŠ?â
Niles sighed a little before he answered, clearly worn downenough by their talk (well, more her talking and him listening) to just want itto be over.
âAssist in promoting Mr Sheffieldâs new sitcom.â
It would be over, soon enough. This was the only kind of punishmentshe was planning on giving him for what had happened â just a little reminderthat no matter what, C.C. Babcock was not, and never would be, a cheat.
Especially not on him. After bringing twenty years of bitterrivalry to an end with a night of ardent passion, followed by several weeks(going into months) of the same, it was safe to say that she had found her man.
Her man, who was witty, and kind, and came prepared with herfavourite meals and a backrub whenever sheâd had a stressful day in the office.Her man, who she had fun with in ways that didnât always involve being naked, andwho she could wake up next to in the morning, feeling safe and happy in hisarms.
Her man, who was answering pretty well so far, and didnâthave any real reason to worry, despite the previous implication that he didnâttrust her. Just a couple more sentences, and theyâd be done.
âGood,â she gave anod and a small smile, before continuing. âI did not come to Los Angeles toâŠ?â
Niles looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up, âSleepwith anyone, up to and including Mr Sheffield.â
Damn straight she wasnât gonna sleep with Maxwell, oranybody else! Niles hadâŠwell, kind of spoiled her for any other man, and shewasnât gonna let go of that for all the money or prestige in the world.
âVery good,â her smile grew a little wider. âAnd now, Nileshas to admit that he isâŠ?â
Niles pursed his lips, clearly ashamed, âSor-â
C.C. raised her eyebrows and shook her head softly, âNoâŠâ
âAn idiot, for thinking otherwise,â the butler correctedhimself. He then quickly added one last sentence. âAnd also, sorry.â
He truly was sorry â it didnât take a genius to work thatout. And they were, at last, done with all the things she wanted him to say.
She patted and rubbed his arm, and then got up from the bedwhere sheâd insisted they both sat to talk, âThatâs more like it.â
She was intending to get them both something from theminibar when she heard him get up from where heâd been sat.
âI suppose IâllâŠleave you to it for the night, then.â
C.C. stiffened, before turning around to look at him again.
Why did it sound like he was planning on leaving?
âWhat are you talking about?â she asked.
âWell, after all of this, I can understand if you donât wantto see me tonight,â the butler explained sadly, ducking his eyes remorsefullytowards the carpet. âOrâŠreally at all, anymoreâŠâ
Now, just what was that supposed to mean?
DidâŠdid he think that she was gonna tell him to go, or thatshe didnât want to see him anymore?! That was the last thing on her mind! Sheâdtold him what had really gone on, heâd said he was sorry, they could move on!
She didnât want him to go, and it was obviously killing him tothink that he had to.
Although part of her also wanted to know why he thought hedid.
Before he could walk out, she sidestepped in front of himand folded her arms, silently demanding an explanation as to why he wasprobably going to go sleep in the hotel lobby until he could catch a flightback to New York with Nanny Fine in the morning.
And Niles sighed, visibly deflating before her eyes. Shedidnât think sheâd ever seen him so miserable!
âIâŠfollowed you here because I got scared. When westartedâŠwell, when we decided to try this new arrangement, I felt like theluckiest man on the planet. Iâd never had so much fun, nor been so happy in allmy life!â he explained, running a hand through his hair. A clear sign ofagitation. âSo, when Mrs Sheffieldâs psychic told her that Mr Sheffield wouldend up in bed with a leggy, blue-eyed blonde and began to worry, I did too. I couldnâtpossibly see what I have that Mr Sheffield doesnât; Iâm not rich, or handsome,I canât keep you in the life that youâve always had and IâŠI just had to come.â
C.C. was stunned.
He really believed all of that? About not being good enoughfor her because he wasnât rich, and couldnâttake care of her the way a wealthy suitor mightâve been able to?
He took care of her in plenty of other ways â ways shecouldnât even begin to look after herself! He made her laugh, helped her to relax, and - most importantly of all, sheâd no doubt one day say to her mother - he made her happy.
She was about to ask him who gave even the slightest hint ofa crap about financial situations, considering she could â and would â takecare of money for the both of them, when he spoke up again and cut her off.
âBut I know; none of it is any excuse. I didnât trust youthe way I should have, and thatâs an insult I know I canât make up for,â heshook his head sadly. âIâm sorry for all of it, but I know that isnât enough. YouâŠfrankly, just deserve better.â
He tried to go then, but C.C. grabbed his hands and held himthere, looking him right in the eye.
She was getting the feeling that sheâd come off as harshwithout meaning to, and she thought she knew how to make it alright again.
âWho said that I was looking for better than you, Hazel?âshe asked gently.
Niles got a flustered look, like he was about to panic aswell, âWell, no one! I just assumed that-â
She cut him off that time, by pressing her lips against his.
It didnât take long for him to melt into it and kiss herback, pulling her into an embrace that felt like he never wanted to let her go.
And that was just the way C.C. liked it.
Eventually they had to pull away for air, but remained ineach otherâs arms, hearts beating faster and heads resting together.
Niles was the first to break the silence, âSoâŠI supposeitâs safe to say that youâre not dumping me?â
The producer let out a low chuckle.
âItâs very safe to say that, Butler Boy,â she grinned,pulling free from his embrace to take his hand. She tugged him over towards herbedside table. âCome on â thereâs actually something I wanna show you.â
He obviously thought they were heading straight to bed,because C.C. heard him give a hum of interest.
âHm, am I going to like what Iâm being shownâŠ?â
C.C. smirked, âNot in the way that youâre hoping just yet.â
She didnât even have to turn around to know that his ownsmirk wouldâve dropped.
âOh.â
She knew sheâd make up for his current disappointment in alittle while. For now, there was one last thing she had with her, to prove thatthey were more than okay in their relationship.
She took him over to the bedside table, made him sit down onthe edge of the bed, and picked up the photo frame sheâd taken with her.
The one that contained the first picture of him sheâd ever taken.Heâd been the first thing sheâd photographed when sheâd bought herself a newcamera.
âYou see this?â she held it in her hands and used one of herindex fingers to tap it. âMaxwell made fun of me on the plane for taking it onboard in my carry-on.â
Niles looked at her in wonder. He probably didnât realise shehadnât been joking when sheâd insisted on getting his picture framed,considering she kept it at the penthouse and they spent most (if not all) oftheir time together at the mansion.
âI, umâŠcouldnât bear the thought of putting it in theluggage hold. Much like I canât bear the thought of sleeping in a bed withoutyou next to me,â she explained, feeling a blush creep across her face. âSo anytime weâre not in the same place overnight, I put it out. I kindaâŠhave to pretendyouâre there.â
She wasnât used to talking about her feelings. For the longesttime, sheâd thought it would make her vulnerable. But this, even if it stillfelt a little embarrassing, wasnât anywhere near as bad as sheâd thought. This wasa kind of vulnerability that she liked â going from opening up to sharingthings withâŠwell, the man who knew her better than anybody else. Inside andout.
Niles blinked at her, âYou do?â
She put the frame back on the nightstand and gestured to it,âWhy else would I have it out right now, Niles?â
The butler appeared to think for a moment, and he shifted alittle on the bed.
âWell, any number of reasonsâŠâ he began. âUp to andincluding some kind of voodoo ritual that Iâm not familiar with.â
C.C. bit the inside of her lip to stop herself fromgrinning. Zingers were their terra firma, and it dissipated any lingeringawkwardness or tension.
Not that there was tension anymore. At least, not the samekind of tension as there had been.
She paced towards him, folding her arms.
âThat was weak, and pathetic,â she told him. âAn awful lotlike you, really.â
Niles reached out and pulled her towards him, so that sheâdstand between his legs. He then began to run his hands up her sides.
âYou call me pathetic, Iâm not the one who has to sleep witha photograph any time I miss somebody.â
The producer leaned in towards his face, unfolding her armsto place them on his shoulders, âNo, you just fly three thousand miles to irritatethem in person.â
The butler grinned back at her, âYou know you love it.â
She squeezed his shoulders, smirking back, âAnd you, likethe sap you are, love that I sleep with your picture.â
Niles wiggled his eyebrows, âThough I much prefer it whenyouâre sleeping with the real thing.â
C.C. chuckled again. But this time, something changed. Itwas like something had snapped.
She knew that there was something she had to say â somethingshe didnât think sheâd ever said to anyone. But she knew she had to say it now,or else she might explode.
âI love you, you stupid old man.â
There was a pause, and she saw Nilesâ eyes shining inhappiness. He knew she meant what sheâd said.
But he didnât veer off-course for an instant.
âFunny,â he said. âYou took the words right out of mymouth.â
C.C. gave him an unamused look, âIf you wanna sleep in thebed tonight, you might consider rethinking your previous statement, Dust Buster.â
Niles gave her a brief sheepish look, before it morphed intoone of a man who had an idea.
And C.C. felt it was one she was going to like.
âWell, in that caseâŠâ he reached up and around her middle, pullingher on top of him as he fell back onto the bed. âI love you too, Babs.â
C.C. rearranged herself to straddle his waist, laughing indelight as she leaned down to kiss him again.
âNow, that really is more like itâŠ!â
#anon asks#the nanny#niles and cc#niles the butler#cc babcock#otp: always been bitter together#otp: butler bitch
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Regina sighs and shakes her head, a soft smile on her face as her sweet little boy bounds away from her, headed straight for the swings. The snow crunches under his boots and he meticulously scrapes the snow off the seat before hopping on. âMommy! Push me!â he yells, the sound louder somehow in the crisp winter air.
A sound stops her mid-stride, and she turns towards it. Notes waft through the air, a melody Regina canât place but somehow knows intimately. Only snow and trees populate her field of vision, and she can hear Henry moving towards her from behind. âMommy?â
âWhat the--?â Regina exclaims, her head craned back and her eyes narrowed in incredulity. Henry shifts to see what his mother is looking at, his little brown head tilted way back to peer up into a large tree.
âHi!â Henry shouts, waving a mittened hand.
A young woman smiles down at him, her golden hair framing her face and her mouth never leaving the flute within it. Her long fingers danced briefly up and down the flute, drawing out the last few notes of her song. Finished, she bows dramatically, her blue eyes dancing as Henryâs hands come together in muffled claps.
âWhat are you doing up there?â Regina barks, the words coming out perhaps harsher than she intended.
The girl shrugs. âWhat are you doing down there?â
Regina opens her mouth to speak, but Henry beats her to it. âMommy said I can go play cause we donât have school today!â Henry says excitedly. âDo you like to swing?â
âI love to! Can I join you?â the girl asks.
Henry looks at his mother, whose gaze flicks over the woman in the tree. Sheâs wearing a stained heavy brown jacket, long yellow floral dress suitable for summer and...flip flops. Regina should say no. She really should, but instead she says, âCan you even get down from there?â and then the girl is grinning, swinging a large black backpack on her back and scrambling down with admirable nimbleness.
âIâll race ya there!â the girl says as soon as her feet sink into the soft snow. Henry yelps in delight and speeds away, the girl hot on his heels but taking what seemed to be deliberately slow steps.
âI win!â Henry shouts, raising a hand up in victory before swiping snow off the other swing. He points the girl to the newly-cleared swing and sits in the other one himself.
âYou donât want me to push you?â she asks.
Henry shakes his head seriously. âMommy does that. Sheâs a real good pusher. Sheâll push you, too!â
Regina positions herself behind Henry and gives him a light push.
âNow her!â
âI highly doubt Miss--â Regina pauses, waiting for the girl to supply her name.
âSwan. Emma Swan.â
âI highly doubt Miss Swan needs to be pushed, Henry.â
âYou are a good pusher,â Emma responds, looking over her shoulder at Regina with a cheeky grin. Regina gives her a harder push than necessary, eliciting an âOofâ from the girl.
âHigher, higher!â Henry shouts as his swing gains momentum.
âHenry,â Regina says, drawing out the name in warning.
âHigher please,â he says dramatically, kicking his legs to gain more speed.
Regina pushes Emma harder than she should again, the girl quickly gaining enough momentum to rise slightly out of her seat to the awe of Henry. Swinging over, Regina supervises as Henry shows Emma the slides and the monkey bars.
The girl is...decidedly enchanting, Regina decides grudgingly. She finds herself worrying about the girlâs feet, which are red and puffy with exposure to the snow. Concerned, Regina suggests they all go to Henryâs favorite diner to warm up with some hot chocolate. The way both of their eyes light up is nothing short of adorable, and Regina makes sure to keep Henry between them as they walk the few blocks to the restaurant.
âSo, Miss Swan, what do you do for...employment?â
Emma holds up her flute and grins widely. âYouâre lookinâ at it.â
âSo youâre...a musician?â
âIf you can call it that. Play street corners. Subways. Yunno.â
Reginaâs eyes dart to the heavy black backpack around Emmaâs shoulders. Sheâs pretty certain all Emma owns is in that backpack, which explains the flip-flops in winter. A feeling bubbles up inside Regina, one that is decidedly foreign to her. It feels powerful and protective and cloying all at once, and sheâs taken aback at the sheer intensity of it.
A blast of warm air hits them as Regina opens the door to the diner. Regina can see Emma shifting uncomfortably as her feet adjust to the new temperature. She knows Emmaâs feet must be burning and itching, but Emma doesnât say a word about it. She just inhales deeply the wafting smells of bacon and pancakes, her eyes lingering on a plate of food just placed in front of a customer.
Theyâre seated by a leggy brunette whose name tag reads âRuby.â Her gaze lingers far too long on Emma for Reginaâs liking, her smiles too wide and her interest too keen.
âWhat will you guys be having today?â Ruby asks, her eyes never leaving Emmaâs.
âMe? Oh, Iâll just have a coffee.â
Regina mentally smacks herself, regretting not telling Emma in advance that she would be paying for them. She orders double the amount of food she normally would, and stops Henry from ordering a hot chocolate and a milkshake.
âRuby seems...interested in you. Do you two know each other?â Regina asks, her voice noticeably modulated to impassivity. âRuby?â Emma echoes.
âOur waitress.â
âOh, no. I...havenât been around here long.â
Ruby arrives with two hot chocolates and a coffee, placing them in front of each of them with a wide, white smile framed by blood red lips.
âDo I know you from somewhere?â Ruby asks Emma.
Emma looks curiously at Regina, who had just asked her the same thing. âI donât...think so?â
âHm. Well, you look really familiar. Whatâs your name?â âEmma.â
âEmma,â Ruby says, tasting the name in her mouth. âSuits you. You play?â she asks, looking pointedly at the flute on the table.
Theyâre interrupted by a shout from the kitchen. âRuby! Stop flirting with the customers and bring out this food!â
Ruby smiles apologetically and zooms away, leaving a confused Emma and incensed Regina. Who did Ruby think she was, so openly flirting in front of her six-year-old son? âIâm sorry. Ruby can sometimes be very forward.â
âSheâs really nice!â Henry chimes in.
Regina grits her teeth and mutters, âToo nice, perhaps,â which makes Emma smile, smile, smile.
When their food arrives, Regina delicately picks at hers, claiming she was feeling less hungry than sheâd thought. âSomeone should really eat this, though. Emma, would you mind?â
Emma doesnât mind. She puts away every last bit of food Regina had ordered, and finishes off Henryâs fries as well.
âYou eat a lot,â Henry says indelicately.
âSo I can grow up big and strong,â Emma says, patting her stomach with a smile.
Henry narrows his eyes. âYouâre gonna grow more?â
Emma laughs. Itâs a sound free and hearty, and it makes Regina feel warm. âAt 23, the only place I got left to grow is here,â she says, tapping her fingers to the side of her head.
âYour headâs gonna grow?â Henry asks, his little face scrunching in confusion.
Emma laughs again, and Regina doesnât even try to fight the smile on her face. âHer mind, Henry. Even adults can learn things every day,â she tells her son, sharing a grateful look with the blonde.
23. Emma is twelve years younger than Regina. The number makes her feel guilty for the untoward lust clawing through her body. Regina had never been quite successful at romantic relationships, and had happily settled into the idea that it would always just be her and Henry. He was her world, and she felt so grateful that her world was so bright and beautiful. Regina wasnât that type of woman--going after younger flings in order to make herself feel more relevant. But this girl...
âWanna meet him?â she hears Henry saying. âHeâs THIS TALL!â Henry says excitedly, gesturing to a height just above his head.
He must be talking about Apollo, his giant giraffe.
âIâd love to, Henry, but I really should get going...â
This is where Regina should thank Emma for their time together. This is where she should issue the standard disingenuous âWe should do this again sometime.â This is where she and Emma should part.
Instead: âIâm cooking lasagne tonight, if youâd care to join.â
Emmaâs eyes light up. Here, on the bustling city streets of Boston her eyes have taken on an enchanting green hue, and Regina finds herself unduly breathless.
It seems food is the way to this girlâs heart. âIâd be down.â
âGood,â Regina says, taking a business card out of her purse. It reads, âRegina Mills, Solutions Specialist, LLC.â She scribbles an address on the back and hands it to Emma. âSix oâ clock.â Their fingers touch, and Regina barely has the mind to suppress the shudder that wants to run through her. Bad, bad, bad.
With an easy smile and a quick, âSee ya then,â Emma is off, crossing the street before settling down cross-legged on the pavement. Regina watches as she places a dirty paperboy hat on the ground in front of her and starts playing her flute. The girl raises a hand to the two of them, waving goofily even as she continues playing. Her toes wiggle in her sandals and someone drops a dollar bill in the hat.
âIdiot,â Regina mutters before grabbing Henryâs hand and walking the ten blocks home with him.
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00Q Kinktober - Day 2
Prompt List ; Ao3
Pairing: Alec Trevelyan x QÂ Prompt: Blowjobs Warnings: Smut, No Beta
Eve Moneypenny came into the beginning of this chapter like a 500 word wrecking ball. Sorry not sorry.Â
Eve had to drag Q out of Q branch kicking and screaming not even an hour ago. But now that Q is here, with a few fruity cocktails coasting through his veins and the electronic beat pulsing in his chest, he can admit that Eve is his favorite.Â
He grins over his drink at her to yell so as to be heard over the club music, âYouâre my favorite!â
Eve laughs and tips his drink towards his face and into his mouth using her agent ninja-moves. âI know!â She shouts back and slams the glass full of colourful ice (the remains of his drink) on the bartop she had threatened to murder a fratboy for when they had first arrived. She abandons the position like she abandons anything that loses her attention; with a sharp about-face and bouncing curls. She drags Q with her into the throng of dancing bodies.Â
At the start of a new beat, she spins him around like a top exactly once before plastering herself against his back, leading their hips into some abso-fucking-lutely dirty grinding. Despite her lacking the anatomy heâs attracted to, she still makes him groan. âI donât suppose you enjoy pegging!?â Q asks loudly in her closest ear.Â
She grins and cackles. âNo comment, Q. Weâre not here for me! Weâre here to get you laid!â The music swells and they continue to grind and sway.Â
Q opens his mouth to respon -- Eve cuts him off. âBond doesnât count; you didnât even get to see his cock! And besides, that was nearly nearly a month ago!â Â
Q frowns. Had it really been that long? He counts missions with his fingers held in front of him, ticking them off to the beat while Eve watches with fondness over his shoulder, hands wrapping fully around his waist. Okay, she has a point. He waives his hands forward while resting the majority of his weight against her. âCarry on then! Get me laid!âÂ
Of course the song changes to something lower at the last sentence, making the couples around them look up in amusement. Eve laughs and wags her eyebrows at them. âWell? Any takers for this leggy boffin?!â She spins him around to the beat once more. Heâs given some appraising looks that get his blood pulsing in a different kind of beat than the music. But in the end, Eve moves them slightly to their 3âoclock when a man doesnât step forward.Â
She spins Q to face her, subtly framing his arse with her hands to those that are looking while they continue to dance. Q gets so lost in the music that he almost doesnât realize when she fumbles a grind.Â
âIs that. . .â Eve starts. Q gracefully spins to put his back to her again, throwing a hand up behind him and into her curls for no good reason except they feel nice. He flicks his glance to the wall she was watching and hums long and low in his throat at the eyefull of blond agent he finds.Â
âIt is indeed, Miss Moneypenny,â He murmurs his response so that the agent canât read his lips - lips he is certainly looking at. Q licks the edges of his teeth, mouth open to make sure the entire show is visible. The manâs eyes darken considerably. Q shivers.Â
âHow? Was his mission finally completed?â Eve mutters into his neck.Â
Q rolls his shoulders and hips in a shrug that just happens to match the music, taking his own weight back, subtly loosening her hold on him. âVery possible. I havenât been monitoring. I do know he hasnât reported in yet. But, let's get back on topic; I thought we were focused on getting me laid.â He makes sure to enunciate his mouth for that part. The blond begins moving forward through the dance floor. Q preens.
He hears Eve draw in breath to say something. Q spins around quickly, putting a little more space between them as he presses a finger against her lips. âHush. Let me enjoy this.â He looks back over his shoulder at the blond slowly approaching and licks his lips, wiggles his hips in a little shimmy to the music. Â
Moneypenny rolls her eyes. âYou and your thing about blonds. Use protection. Call me when you get home.â She cuts one last glance towards the impressive figure only a few steps away now. âAnd give me the details in the morning!â She shouts, most definitely too loud and without shame as she backs away and gives one little sarcastic salute to the approaching man as she makes her way out of the club.Â
The man slides up behind Q, pressing their forms together, knees to shoulders, hands loose at Qâs hips. . . for now. He leads them into a grind even more delicious than Eveâs had been. But that was probably Qâs bias, since this one had a half-hard cock sliding against his arse. He didnât bother stopping his groan or the thump of his head on the manâs shoulder.Â
âPoor kitten,â the man murmurs roughly in his ear. âYou just need something fierce, donât you?âÂ
Q nods his head against the blonds shoulder. The music picks up again into something hard and throbbing. âIâm Quincy!â Q throws out an alias and mocks a handshake by slipping his hand over the hand on his hips, fingers tangling.Â
âAlex!â The agent responds. Q nods and turns in Trevelyanâs grip. The alias is enough to the agent's real name. Undoubtedly better than Bondâs habit of giving out his real name to everyone and their mother. The Quartermaster and Double-Oh hadnât had the pleasure of meeting in a formal setting, since 006âs missions normally took him away from England for months at a time. However, Q had the advantage of viewing all of the agents' dossiers.Â
Q briefly thinks this could be an ambush, but quickly dismisses the thought. This club was close to MI6, so it would be a familiar stalking ground for any agent. He smiles through his lashes at the man and leans in close, pressing his face against his throat as if he really were a kitten. âWill you take me home?âÂ
Trevelyanâs hand comes up to grip his nape. It makes Q shiver as he brushes his mouth against Qâs earlobe. âIâm not the kind of man that takes strays home. You okay with that?âÂ
Q moaned and rolls his hips into the man in a show of just how much he was okay with that. Besides, he wasnât keen to bring a Double-Oh to his apartment and he was certain that the said Double-Oh wouldnât want a stranger anywhere near his. His head was pulled back by that firm grip so that they could meet eyes. Oh, Trevelyan wanted verbal communication. Q pouts, âThis means fucking is off the table, which is such a shame.â He rolls his hips again. âBut find us somewhere private and Iâm sure we can come to a compromise.âÂ
Trevelyan chuckles and begins leading Q to the same wall that he had been leaning against earlier. The wall led to a hidden hall, where the sounds of the music became considerably muted. At the end of the hall was an emergency door that was propped open with a pack of cigarettes. Q raises his eyebrows at Trevelyan. Trevelyan chuckles and shrugs, âIâve been here a time or two. This is the door the bouncers use to take their smoke break.âÂ
âI said private and you lead me to a hallway that the bouncers use so I can suck your cock? Are you making sure I can never come back?â Q asks incredulously.
âWell, we never agreed to you sucking my cock, but I wouldnât be opposed, Kitten.â Trevelyan returns his grip to the back of Qâs nape and squeezes as he leans against the wall. âBesides, they arenât out there now, or the door would be propped open with the brick just outside.âÂ
Q rolls his eyes but licks his lips and steps closer as Trevelyanâs hand directs. âYou best have a marvelous cock or Iâm walking out that door and taking the cigarettes with me.â He palms Trevelyanâs cock through the fabric of his jeans and squeezes as he keeps eye-contact. âMy pace, condom not optional. But you can pull my hair all you want. In fact, please do.â Trevelyan twists his hand for a quick tug that makes Qâs breath catch, eyes flutter, and smirk. âAnd if you donât reciprocate Iâll find out your real name and ruin your credit rating.âÂ
Before Trevelyan can retort, Q drops to his knees and begins unbuckling the belt that is in his way, pressing his cheek against the bulge thatâs doing itâs best to greet him. Trevelyanâs hand in his hair tightens, gently pulls, twists. Q makes happy noise and pulls Trevelyan out of his pants. His cock is long but not overtly girthy, still hooded in itâs foreskin and nested in neat dark blond curls. Yes, this will do quite nicely. Too bad he couldnât play with the foreskin more fully. He economically pulls out one of the condoms Eve had slipped into his back pocket earlier and rolls it down the length.Â
Q looks up to make eye-contact through his glasses -Â Trevelyan looks patient and amused- before going hard. He sucks the head of that cock into his mouth, tongue flicking back and forth rapidly across the head before slipping even deeper, one hand holding what he wonât put into his mouth just yet. The other hand slips further into Trevelyanâs pants to play with his balls and that place right behind them, finger prodding into Trevelyanâs perineum for added sensation.Â
This wasnât one of Qâs favorite things. It didnât get him hot in the same way that a good fingering did; mainly because it wasnât enough to turn his thoughts off. But he did enjoy the noises of a willing partner, the feeling of something so vulnerable handed over to him for control. He enjoyed how he had the opportunity to learn his partner - what he did and didnât like and all the ways Q could use that knowledge later.Â
Trevelyan loves the fingers at his perineum. He likes a tight grip at the head of his cock and only gentle motions around his balls. He doesnât make noises as much as he throws words and curses around like confetti.Â
âFuck, kitten. Arenât you just fierce, yeah? So damn good,â Trevelyan croons and twists his fingers in Qs hair again. Q hums and takes Trevelyan deeper for a few moments, swallowing against his gag-reflex to rest his lips against Trevelyanâs curls for another swallow, then another. âShit, kitten, yes. Perfect. Can youâŠâ Q pulled off just enough to press his tongue against Trevelyanâs frenulum, increasing his suction, before pushing himself back down and swallowing once the cock hit the back of his throat. âYes⊠That.â Q hears his head thump against the wall and does the motions once more. Twice.Â
Trevelyan barkes out a short shout before tugging harshly at Qâs hair, aborting a thrust as he comes. Q moans and gently pulls off Trevelyan's cock to press his forehead against Trevelyanâs hip - against his hand - just to test the hold in his curls. It was tight enough to make sparks sing down his neck and into his cock, making his panting not just about lack of breath due to the lightening-round blowjob.Â
Trevelyanâs hand flexes to scritch his nails across Qâs nape, but otherwise didnât attempt to move. That just wouldnât do. Q stands quickly, slipping Trevelyanâs pants up enough so that the man wouldnât trip as he swings him around and pushes him down to his knees. Q throws a leg over Trevelyanâs shoulder and tilts his hips out in obvious prompting. âWell? Iâd really like not getting bounced out of this club. Get to it.âÂ
Trevelyan grins wolfishly and fishes one of his hands into Qâs back pocket for another condom as the other unbuttons Q's trousers in a - seriously impressive- show of dexterity. His dick is easily taken in hand and gloved before Trevelyan licks from root to tip with a flat tongue, showy and sloppy, before taking in the tip.Â
Q hooks both hands on Trevelyanâs nape and rolls his hips imperiously. Trevelyan looks up and raises an eyebrow. âThe terms were to my pace, if you remember.â Qâs smirk is ruined by a hard suck but the shivers going down his back make it hard to be too disgruntled. âPick it up, Alex. Pretty please?â He says the last sentence as a moan - Trevelyan had already removed his hand from Qâs cock in order to take it to the hilt, bobbing and sucking messily and with no discernible rhythm. His hands swing from Qâs front to grab onto Qâs buttocks, angling them to get Qâs cock deeper and nearly dragging Q off the ground in the process. The heat of Trevelyanâs mouth was shocking, even through the condom. Q groans and slaps his hands against the wall for balance when his testing hip roll threatens to tip him over. Instead, he digs his foot more firmly into Trevelyan's back, pressing his hips further away from the wall and his cock further into Trevelyanâs mouth.Â
Trevelyan takes his weight more fully, grip tightening on his arse and going down to the root once more. Q whimpers. Trevelyan chuckles at the noise and the vibration is what sets the molten heat in his groin loose. Qâs keen hitches twice through his orgasm, white-hot and fast.Â
When Trevelyan pulls back from Qâs cock, his expression is cocky and amused. âWas that pace to your satisfaction, kitten?â
Q rolls his head back and forth across the wall lazily and giggles. âVery satisfactory, Alex. 10/10; would fuck again.â
Trevelyan pushes himself to his feet and goes to lean into Qâs space, but stops with a grimace and looks down. Q follows his look. Trevelyanâs jeans were still open, and his condom had come loose, creating a mess against Trevelyanâs skin and jeans. Q giggles again, feeling foolish but unable to stop it as the endorphins worked with the alcohol to make him feel so very good. He removes his own condom carefully, twisting it up and holding it out to the side of himself as he watches Trevelyan clean himself up.Â
When Trevelyan looks back up, Q steps close enough to kiss the man on the cheek before sliding away. âGoodnight, Alex. Get home safely.â
~*~
The next morning, when Q is called to Mâs office to meet another agent, Q masks his little smile and walks past the room that Bond took him to nearly a month ago. He walks past Moneypennyâs desk and winks at the woman as he knocks politely at Mâs door, getting his order to âCome in.â
â006, Q. Q, 006,â M introduces curtly as soon as the door opens. 006 turns around from where he had been pretending to admire Mâs art. The surprise doesnât show on his face, but Q can see it flicker in his eyes as the agent stalks up. Before he can say anything, Q steps forward and offers his hand for a handshake.Â
âAlec,â Q stresses the name. âWelcome home. Itâs a pleasure to meet you professionally.â
Mâs sharp gaze flicks between the two men before she huffs. Q canât tell if itâs amusement or resignation. Probably a combination of both. âIntroductions are over. Out of my office. Q, provide me with your report by end of day.âÂ
âBefore or after I give it Miss Moneypenny, maâam?â Q asks cheekily only for M to point at the door, discussion over.
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