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uponinfinityTitle: airplanes in the night sky (like shooting stars)
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff
Length: 2710w
Warnings: unbeta-ed
Note: Kyungsoo is trilingual in this one, and Jongin's bilingual. Yep.
Summary: Sometimes, they meet in transit.
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff
Length: 2710w
Warnings: unbeta-ed
Note: Kyungsoo is trilingual in this one, and Jongin's bilingual. Yep.
Summary: Sometimes, they meet in transit.
‘So, how did the two of you meet?’
Sometimes, they meet in transit.
Kyungsoo is a fresh-faced 23 year old, an up-and-coming figure in the business world with a better grasp on how an ideal balance sheet should look like and how to get a business there than people twice his age. His hair is perpetually neatly slicked back, his suits and ties pressed to perfection, dress shirts starched and bleached pure white. He’s only a personal assistant now - to the CEO of one of Seoul’s most influential companies - but he has dreams larger than life, and he’s determined to grasp destiny in the palms of his hands, to mould it into his ideal.
Jongin is freshly 22, with bedroom eyes and sultry lips that just scream “take your clothes off”. He is 183cm of perfect proportions and well sculpted muscles, the planes of his face and the angle of his jawline looking like it’s been sculpted by Hephaestus himself. His life is high turbulence in violent skies, tumultuous and chaotic, and Jongin is in the centre of it all. He spends his days and nights flying to all corners of the globe, setting runways and heart alight as he walks down them, lips unsmiling, barely-there garments hanging off his body.
Sometimes... they meet in transit.
They meet, for the first time, in New York.
Jongin watches with a smirk as a smaller man, who can’t be much older than himself, fumbles with his black briefcase. The Starbucks in JFK Airport sees a line being held up as the stranger roots about desperately in his bag, short fingers shuffling through important-looking papers and documents and Jongin doesn’t mean to pry, but he manages to spot words in Hangul across at least twenty pages, and he smiles.
It takes Jongin about two seconds to reach the end of his patience, nudging the man aside as he steps forward. The man looks up (he’s considerably shorter than the model) at Jongin, eyes wide in disbelief as Jongin places his order with the astonished barista in barely accented English. The barista looks at a loss as to what to do regarding the earlier order until Jongin slides bills toward her, and says, ‘I’ll take care of it.’
The man immediately colours, apologising profusely to Jongin, tongue stumbling to find the right foreign words. Jongin’s mouth curls in an amused smirk as the stranger - ‘I - my name is Kyungsoo,’ - tries to convey his gratitude. When their order is up, they both move to the counter to collect it, apologies still pouring profusely out of the elder’s mouth.
‘Where are you headed?’ asks Jongin, in English.
‘I’m - I’m headed to China. Soon. How about you?’
Jongin smiles a small smile, lips stretched wide as he hands Kyungsoo a few napkins.
‘I’m going to Korea,’ he says, transitioning back to his native language. Korean. His smile grows when he sees realisation dawning on Kyungsoo’s face, when he notices pale cheekbones reddening again, this time with embarrassment.
‘I’m going home.’
They become friends in Vegas.
Kyungsoo is properly dressed this time, swathed in his usual attire of a suit and tie. He’s accompanying his boss on a business trip, and the American partners insisted on “showing them around”. The casino is filled with bright lights and false expectations, and it’s one of the rare occasions where Kyungsoo feels himself suffocating from the palpable effort that comes with having to make nice with the suits.
He lets out a short laugh of fake amusement when one of the Americans tells him a joke he doesn’t understand, and then resumes his position as the quiet personal assistant at his boss’ elbow. His eyes scan the room, taking in coloured lights and people with too much money, gambling away their fortunes and their peace of mind.
As he looks, he’s unable to keep his wry judgements at bay - until his eyes land on someone who looks rather familiar.
The man he’s got his eye on is tall and lean and has skin the perfect golden brown, a cynical smile shrouding the blinding white Kyungsoo finds he kind of misses. There’s no denying it, Kyungsoo thinks, that the man standing not ten feet away from him is none other than Jongin, the cocky bastard of a model who lured him in with his charm and then proceeded to make him look a complete idiot within the time span of ten minutes.
Kyungsoo resolutely looks away.
Unfortunately for him, Jongin is in the fashion industry, where an abundance of attention is paid to every little detail, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know it, but he’s been watching the elder in his peripherals for the past ten minutes. This, he thinks, will be fun.
The party Kyungsoo’s woefully a part of retreats to a private room for drinks and a few cigars, and Kyungsoo’s boss, Mr Cho, tells him to go ‘take a look around, you won’t want to listen to pompous old men get drunk and damage their lungs beyond repair,’. Kyungsoo nods, grateful for the dismissal, and exits the casino in favour of a smallish bar he’d glance at in passing across the street.
He settles at the bar on a stool that makes it impossible for his feet to touch the ground, angling himself so he doesn’t have to face the door and isn’t tempted to people watch. It’s late, and Kyungsoo’s too tired to let the gears of his mind shift into anything higher than second. He gratefully accepts the bartender’s offer of a drink, downing it when it comes.
‘Fancy meeting you here.’
The voice that breathes itself through the hairs on the back of Kyungsoo’s neck has him startled, almost toppling over to the ground, almost spilling the rest of his drink. ‘You - What - You scared me,’ Kyungsoo says, smoothing out the front of his shirt and straightening his tie, suddenly conscious of his appearance in comparison to the model’s.
‘Don’t pretend like you’re surprised, you saw me in the casino just now,’ Jongin smirks. He settles himself into the seat next to Kyungsoo’s and orders something harder than the liquid that’s sloshing around the elder’s glass. He turns to face him again. ‘Bigshot, aren’t you?’
‘Not - not yet,’ Kyungsoo says, smiling sheepishly. ‘I have to learn the ropes and all that stuff first before I get anywhere near the top.’
Jongin nods in understanding, eyes intense on Kyungsoo’s own. ‘You’re working towards your dream,’ Jongin murmurs, after a long, long while. ‘I remember being like you.’ Kyungsoo’s eyes shine with interest, instinctively leaning in to better hear the story he thinks Jongin’s about to tell. The younger’s cynical smile fades away into one that’s soft and bordering on fond, but he’s not about to tell his tale before Kyungsoo does his own.
‘You want a story out of me?’
‘I’d like to know a little more about the guy to whom I still owe a grande latte,’
‘Fair enough,’ Jongin says, after a minute of contemplation. ‘But first, you tell me your story.’ he says, leaning in a little closer to Kyungsoo, who’s unsure if this is proper conduct in the world Jongin’s from, but stays still all the same. Jongin’s eyes are fixated on Kyungsoo’s lips and Kyungsoo can’t really breathe, but he doesn’t push the younger away.
Fingers come up to Kyungsoo’s tie and Jongin loosens it, tugging it down ever so slightly, long fingers unbuttoning the choke around Kyungsoo’s throat.
‘And no more pretending.’
They fall in like in Japan.
‘Luggage! My luggage, oh my god, don’t tell me none of you speak English? Korean? My luggage, where is it? No? I don’t have a Japanese dictionary, I - how come none of you understand English?’
Kyungsoo’s ears pick up frantic yelling in blurs of English and Korean, carried by a voice he’s grown to know a little too well. His heart does a sort of somersault before he can stop himself, and he looks over to the source of the commotion, a smile etched on his face. He double checks that all of Mr Cho’s documents are secure and leaves them with Luhan before he makes his way to the information counter, where Jongin’s shouting himself hoarse.
‘Jongin! What’s the matter?’ Kyungsoo asks, a hand planting itself on Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin bristles a little and Kyungsoo’s almost afraid that he’ll get hit, but the former doesn’t act out. Instead, upon recognising the hand on his shoulder Jongin visibly softens, the fury in his eyes extinguished.
‘They don’t know what’s happened to my luggage. Well alright, I don’t know, and none of them speak English or Korean.’ Jongin answers. His brows and tied together in a frown, and the pout he wears on his lips makes Kyungsoo giggle.
The sound sets Jongin’s heart aflutter.
‘I apologise for my friend’s crass behaviour. He’s just extremely agitated right now, I promise this is not how he usually behaves,’ Kyungsoo says, tongue stumbling a little as he struggles to recall Japanese words. ‘He’s very upset because he can’t seem to locate his belongings. Could you possibly track them down? Yes?’ Kyungsoo smiles amiably at the man behind the counter, whose apprehensiveness has seemed to evaporate. ‘Give them your hotel room number, they’ll have it sent to you,’ Kyungsoo says, Jongin blinking at him.
‘Thanks, Soo.’ Jongin says, finally at ease. He swings an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and it should feel nothing more than soft and maybe a little squishy, but he feels sparks dancing just under his skin, and he kind of doesn’t want to remove himself even when Kyungsoo starts nudging him off.
‘I’m supposed to have boarded my flight, I really have to go,’ Kyungsoo mumbles, patting his pockets, making sure his passport and boarding pass are accounted for.
‘Are you trying to tell me that you almost missed your flight for me?’ Jongin’s eyes are wide and his mouth forms a perfect ‘O’, somewhat touched and unable to believe Kyungsoo would do that for him.
‘Don’t flood the airport, you baby, it’s not such a big deal. Anyway, I really have to go, I’ll see you around! Don’t get too mad at people!’
Jongin watches as Kyungsoo runs off to his gate, something alien tugging at his insides.
Jongin thinks he hasn’t felt something this innocent and pure in a long, long time.
They fall in love in Italy.
Jongin shows up out of the blue on one of Mr Cho’s business trips, and once the deals have been signed and contracts have been negotiated, he kidnaps Kyungsoo.
‘Jongi - Jongin, where are you taking me?’ Kyungsoo asks, blindfolded and slightly agitated because this was a foreign city, after all, and Kyungsoo’s not used to being uninformed about exact itineraries and times of departure and estimated times of arrival. But with Jongin it’s all spur of the moment impulses, all we’ll decide what to do when we get there, so Kyungsoo’s a little surprised that the younger speaks like he has a plan.
‘We’re gonna go somewhere special. You’ll love it, trust me,’ Jongin says, tugging Kyungsoo along and being careful not to let the elder get run over. They walk for a few more minutes, Kyungsoo taking very cautious steps, until finally, Jongin halts him, and Kyungsoo wonders what their destination looks like.
Jongin undoes the blindfold on Kyungsoo, watches with glee as the elder takes in the magnificent sight before him. It’s night and the stars are barely visible, but they’re there, and Jongin and Kyungsoo find themselves speechless at the view they have of the Trevi Fountain. The water is laden with coins and dreams, and Jongin lets Kyungsoo marvel at the lights and the sculptures because, well, he kind of really likes watching Kyungsoo.
‘Here,’ Jongin says, handing Kyungsoo a few coins. ‘They say if you throw the coin in the right way, it’s guaranteed you’ll come back to Rome. But I’ve been here a load of times, so between me and you, I’m just going to make a wish.’
Kyungsoo takes them from Jongin and watches as the latter steps up to the fountain, eyes falling shut as he mutters something to himself and flips the coin in. It lands with a small splash, and Kyungsoo feels the breath getting knocked out of his chest when Jongin fixes him with one of those radiant smiles Kyungsoo never seems to see on him when his image is plastered across billboards and magazine spreads.
He doesn’t know it yet, but Jongin only smiles like that for Kyungsoo.
‘What did you wish for?’ Kyungsoo asks, trying to sound nonchalant. Something in his heart’s making him hope that Jongin will answer for you, but he’s far too rational to let the thought overpower him.
Jongin purses his lips together for a few moments, mulling the thought over in his mind. ‘If I tell you, it probably won’t come true,’ he says. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like don’t be a child, Jongin, just tell me and Jongin laughs. He comes a little closer to Kyungsoo and he can tell the elder’s breathing unevenly, and he chuckles to himself.
‘Between you and me, I wished for you to fall in love with me.’
Kyungsoo stares up in disbelief at Jongin’s confident features, and his heart is hammering in his chest loudly enough for the rest of the traffic and the noisy foreign tongues lashing to blur out into white noise.
He wraps a hand around the back of Jongin’s neck and stands up on his tiptoes, breath fanning on Jongin’s face for a moment before he leans in and kisses him.
‘Um, Jongin - Minseok asked you a question,’ Luhan mumbles, adjusting his bowtie nervously. His eyes dart between Minseok’s expectant ones and Jongin’s faraway ones, and he wonders why Jongin can never seem to keep his head in the game.
‘Oh - I’m sorry, what was that?’ Jongin asks, finally coming back to reality.
‘I said,’ Minseok says, emphasis on the last word, ‘How did the two of you meet?’ But the question is lost on Jongin as his eyes lock on Kyungsoo’s form, small but dapper in his white suit. He’s shaking hands with another group of well wishers, and Jongin politely dismisses himself - without answering Minseok’s question - to get to Kyungsoo.
‘Hey baby,’ Jongin whispers, arm curling protectively around Kyungsoo’s waist. He revels in the way Kyungsoo’s cheeks betray the slightest tint of colour, finds it cute that even after all this time, he still has that effect on him.
‘Jongin, please, I have to attend to our guests. Seeing as you aren’t.’ Kyungsoo hisses, trying to wriggle free of Jongin’s grasp. Jongin just laughs jovially, presses a kiss to Kyungsoo’s temple without loosening his grip.
‘Today’s our special day, Soo, don’t I get any of your attention?’ Jongin whines, nuzzling his lips into Kyungsoo’s carefully styled hair.
‘We just got married, you get to keep me for the rest of our lives. Can’t you share?’ Kyungsoo huffs, struggling (in vain) to fight Jongin off before things got… Inappropriate. ‘I promise you’ll have me all to yourself tonight, now just let me speak to Mr Park over there, he’s got no clue how to bargain whatsoever and I’m about to make us very, very rich.’
‘Not just tonight. I get you all to myself forever, right? That’s the deal. That’s the contract you signed.’ Jongin whines, letting go of Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo smiles fondly at his boyf - husband, he reminds himself, and leans up for a quick, polite peck on the lips, the emotion in his eyes enough to make Jongin’s heart melt.
‘Forever.’
Author’s Note: Alright, this was meant to be a little longer but I wanted it to be snapshots that leave the rest to you guys’ imaginations so I didn’t write everything I wanted heh I’m sorry
Also okay I have no idea what to wear for World Stage tonight so yeah flipping a little over that
Thank you for reading!
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Sometimes, they meet in transit.
Kyungsoo is a fresh-faced 23 year old, an up-and-coming figure in the business world with a better grasp on how an ideal balance sheet should look like and how to get a business there than people twice his age. His hair is perpetually neatly slicked back, his suits and ties pressed to perfection, dress shirts starched and bleached pure white. He’s only a personal assistant now - to the CEO of one of Seoul’s most influential companies - but he has dreams larger than life, and he’s determined to grasp destiny in the palms of his hands, to mould it into his ideal.
Jongin is freshly 22, with bedroom eyes and sultry lips that just scream “take your clothes off”. He is 183cm of perfect proportions and well sculpted muscles, the planes of his face and the angle of his jawline looking like it’s been sculpted by Hephaestus himself. His life is high turbulence in violent skies, tumultuous and chaotic, and Jongin is in the centre of it all. He spends his days and nights flying to all corners of the globe, setting runways and heart alight as he walks down them, lips unsmiling, barely-there garments hanging off his body.
Sometimes... they meet in transit.
They meet, for the first time, in New York.
Jongin watches with a smirk as a smaller man, who can’t be much older than himself, fumbles with his black briefcase. The Starbucks in JFK Airport sees a line being held up as the stranger roots about desperately in his bag, short fingers shuffling through important-looking papers and documents and Jongin doesn’t mean to pry, but he manages to spot words in Hangul across at least twenty pages, and he smiles.
It takes Jongin about two seconds to reach the end of his patience, nudging the man aside as he steps forward. The man looks up (he’s considerably shorter than the model) at Jongin, eyes wide in disbelief as Jongin places his order with the astonished barista in barely accented English. The barista looks at a loss as to what to do regarding the earlier order until Jongin slides bills toward her, and says, ‘I’ll take care of it.’
The man immediately colours, apologising profusely to Jongin, tongue stumbling to find the right foreign words. Jongin’s mouth curls in an amused smirk as the stranger - ‘I - my name is Kyungsoo,’ - tries to convey his gratitude. When their order is up, they both move to the counter to collect it, apologies still pouring profusely out of the elder’s mouth.
‘Where are you headed?’ asks Jongin, in English.
‘I’m - I’m headed to China. Soon. How about you?’
Jongin smiles a small smile, lips stretched wide as he hands Kyungsoo a few napkins.
‘I’m going to Korea,’ he says, transitioning back to his native language. Korean. His smile grows when he sees realisation dawning on Kyungsoo’s face, when he notices pale cheekbones reddening again, this time with embarrassment.
‘I’m going home.’
They become friends in Vegas.
Kyungsoo is properly dressed this time, swathed in his usual attire of a suit and tie. He’s accompanying his boss on a business trip, and the American partners insisted on “showing them around”. The casino is filled with bright lights and false expectations, and it’s one of the rare occasions where Kyungsoo feels himself suffocating from the palpable effort that comes with having to make nice with the suits.
He lets out a short laugh of fake amusement when one of the Americans tells him a joke he doesn’t understand, and then resumes his position as the quiet personal assistant at his boss’ elbow. His eyes scan the room, taking in coloured lights and people with too much money, gambling away their fortunes and their peace of mind.
As he looks, he’s unable to keep his wry judgements at bay - until his eyes land on someone who looks rather familiar.
The man he’s got his eye on is tall and lean and has skin the perfect golden brown, a cynical smile shrouding the blinding white Kyungsoo finds he kind of misses. There’s no denying it, Kyungsoo thinks, that the man standing not ten feet away from him is none other than Jongin, the cocky bastard of a model who lured him in with his charm and then proceeded to make him look a complete idiot within the time span of ten minutes.
Kyungsoo resolutely looks away.
Unfortunately for him, Jongin is in the fashion industry, where an abundance of attention is paid to every little detail, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know it, but he’s been watching the elder in his peripherals for the past ten minutes. This, he thinks, will be fun.
The party Kyungsoo’s woefully a part of retreats to a private room for drinks and a few cigars, and Kyungsoo’s boss, Mr Cho, tells him to go ‘take a look around, you won’t want to listen to pompous old men get drunk and damage their lungs beyond repair,’. Kyungsoo nods, grateful for the dismissal, and exits the casino in favour of a smallish bar he’d glance at in passing across the street.
He settles at the bar on a stool that makes it impossible for his feet to touch the ground, angling himself so he doesn’t have to face the door and isn’t tempted to people watch. It’s late, and Kyungsoo’s too tired to let the gears of his mind shift into anything higher than second. He gratefully accepts the bartender’s offer of a drink, downing it when it comes.
‘Fancy meeting you here.’
The voice that breathes itself through the hairs on the back of Kyungsoo’s neck has him startled, almost toppling over to the ground, almost spilling the rest of his drink. ‘You - What - You scared me,’ Kyungsoo says, smoothing out the front of his shirt and straightening his tie, suddenly conscious of his appearance in comparison to the model’s.
‘Don’t pretend like you’re surprised, you saw me in the casino just now,’ Jongin smirks. He settles himself into the seat next to Kyungsoo’s and orders something harder than the liquid that’s sloshing around the elder’s glass. He turns to face him again. ‘Bigshot, aren’t you?’
‘Not - not yet,’ Kyungsoo says, smiling sheepishly. ‘I have to learn the ropes and all that stuff first before I get anywhere near the top.’
Jongin nods in understanding, eyes intense on Kyungsoo’s own. ‘You’re working towards your dream,’ Jongin murmurs, after a long, long while. ‘I remember being like you.’ Kyungsoo’s eyes shine with interest, instinctively leaning in to better hear the story he thinks Jongin’s about to tell. The younger’s cynical smile fades away into one that’s soft and bordering on fond, but he’s not about to tell his tale before Kyungsoo does his own.
‘You want a story out of me?’
‘I’d like to know a little more about the guy to whom I still owe a grande latte,’
‘Fair enough,’ Jongin says, after a minute of contemplation. ‘But first, you tell me your story.’ he says, leaning in a little closer to Kyungsoo, who’s unsure if this is proper conduct in the world Jongin’s from, but stays still all the same. Jongin’s eyes are fixated on Kyungsoo’s lips and Kyungsoo can’t really breathe, but he doesn’t push the younger away.
Fingers come up to Kyungsoo’s tie and Jongin loosens it, tugging it down ever so slightly, long fingers unbuttoning the choke around Kyungsoo’s throat.
‘And no more pretending.’
They fall in like in Japan.
‘Luggage! My luggage, oh my god, don’t tell me none of you speak English? Korean? My luggage, where is it? No? I don’t have a Japanese dictionary, I - how come none of you understand English?’
Kyungsoo’s ears pick up frantic yelling in blurs of English and Korean, carried by a voice he’s grown to know a little too well. His heart does a sort of somersault before he can stop himself, and he looks over to the source of the commotion, a smile etched on his face. He double checks that all of Mr Cho’s documents are secure and leaves them with Luhan before he makes his way to the information counter, where Jongin’s shouting himself hoarse.
‘Jongin! What’s the matter?’ Kyungsoo asks, a hand planting itself on Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin bristles a little and Kyungsoo’s almost afraid that he’ll get hit, but the former doesn’t act out. Instead, upon recognising the hand on his shoulder Jongin visibly softens, the fury in his eyes extinguished.
‘They don’t know what’s happened to my luggage. Well alright, I don’t know, and none of them speak English or Korean.’ Jongin answers. His brows and tied together in a frown, and the pout he wears on his lips makes Kyungsoo giggle.
The sound sets Jongin’s heart aflutter.
‘I apologise for my friend’s crass behaviour. He’s just extremely agitated right now, I promise this is not how he usually behaves,’ Kyungsoo says, tongue stumbling a little as he struggles to recall Japanese words. ‘He’s very upset because he can’t seem to locate his belongings. Could you possibly track them down? Yes?’ Kyungsoo smiles amiably at the man behind the counter, whose apprehensiveness has seemed to evaporate. ‘Give them your hotel room number, they’ll have it sent to you,’ Kyungsoo says, Jongin blinking at him.
‘Thanks, Soo.’ Jongin says, finally at ease. He swings an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and it should feel nothing more than soft and maybe a little squishy, but he feels sparks dancing just under his skin, and he kind of doesn’t want to remove himself even when Kyungsoo starts nudging him off.
‘I’m supposed to have boarded my flight, I really have to go,’ Kyungsoo mumbles, patting his pockets, making sure his passport and boarding pass are accounted for.
‘Are you trying to tell me that you almost missed your flight for me?’ Jongin’s eyes are wide and his mouth forms a perfect ‘O’, somewhat touched and unable to believe Kyungsoo would do that for him.
‘Don’t flood the airport, you baby, it’s not such a big deal. Anyway, I really have to go, I’ll see you around! Don’t get too mad at people!’
Jongin watches as Kyungsoo runs off to his gate, something alien tugging at his insides.
Jongin thinks he hasn’t felt something this innocent and pure in a long, long time.
They fall in love in Italy.
Jongin shows up out of the blue on one of Mr Cho’s business trips, and once the deals have been signed and contracts have been negotiated, he kidnaps Kyungsoo.
‘Jongi - Jongin, where are you taking me?’ Kyungsoo asks, blindfolded and slightly agitated because this was a foreign city, after all, and Kyungsoo’s not used to being uninformed about exact itineraries and times of departure and estimated times of arrival. But with Jongin it’s all spur of the moment impulses, all we’ll decide what to do when we get there, so Kyungsoo’s a little surprised that the younger speaks like he has a plan.
‘We’re gonna go somewhere special. You’ll love it, trust me,’ Jongin says, tugging Kyungsoo along and being careful not to let the elder get run over. They walk for a few more minutes, Kyungsoo taking very cautious steps, until finally, Jongin halts him, and Kyungsoo wonders what their destination looks like.
Jongin undoes the blindfold on Kyungsoo, watches with glee as the elder takes in the magnificent sight before him. It’s night and the stars are barely visible, but they’re there, and Jongin and Kyungsoo find themselves speechless at the view they have of the Trevi Fountain. The water is laden with coins and dreams, and Jongin lets Kyungsoo marvel at the lights and the sculptures because, well, he kind of really likes watching Kyungsoo.
‘Here,’ Jongin says, handing Kyungsoo a few coins. ‘They say if you throw the coin in the right way, it’s guaranteed you’ll come back to Rome. But I’ve been here a load of times, so between me and you, I’m just going to make a wish.’
Kyungsoo takes them from Jongin and watches as the latter steps up to the fountain, eyes falling shut as he mutters something to himself and flips the coin in. It lands with a small splash, and Kyungsoo feels the breath getting knocked out of his chest when Jongin fixes him with one of those radiant smiles Kyungsoo never seems to see on him when his image is plastered across billboards and magazine spreads.
He doesn’t know it yet, but Jongin only smiles like that for Kyungsoo.
‘What did you wish for?’ Kyungsoo asks, trying to sound nonchalant. Something in his heart’s making him hope that Jongin will answer for you, but he’s far too rational to let the thought overpower him.
Jongin purses his lips together for a few moments, mulling the thought over in his mind. ‘If I tell you, it probably won’t come true,’ he says. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like don’t be a child, Jongin, just tell me and Jongin laughs. He comes a little closer to Kyungsoo and he can tell the elder’s breathing unevenly, and he chuckles to himself.
‘Between you and me, I wished for you to fall in love with me.’
Kyungsoo stares up in disbelief at Jongin’s confident features, and his heart is hammering in his chest loudly enough for the rest of the traffic and the noisy foreign tongues lashing to blur out into white noise.
He wraps a hand around the back of Jongin’s neck and stands up on his tiptoes, breath fanning on Jongin’s face for a moment before he leans in and kisses him.
‘Um, Jongin - Minseok asked you a question,’ Luhan mumbles, adjusting his bowtie nervously. His eyes dart between Minseok’s expectant ones and Jongin’s faraway ones, and he wonders why Jongin can never seem to keep his head in the game.
‘Oh - I’m sorry, what was that?’ Jongin asks, finally coming back to reality.
‘I said,’ Minseok says, emphasis on the last word, ‘How did the two of you meet?’ But the question is lost on Jongin as his eyes lock on Kyungsoo’s form, small but dapper in his white suit. He’s shaking hands with another group of well wishers, and Jongin politely dismisses himself - without answering Minseok’s question - to get to Kyungsoo.
‘Hey baby,’ Jongin whispers, arm curling protectively around Kyungsoo’s waist. He revels in the way Kyungsoo’s cheeks betray the slightest tint of colour, finds it cute that even after all this time, he still has that effect on him.
‘Jongin, please, I have to attend to our guests. Seeing as you aren’t.’ Kyungsoo hisses, trying to wriggle free of Jongin’s grasp. Jongin just laughs jovially, presses a kiss to Kyungsoo’s temple without loosening his grip.
‘Today’s our special day, Soo, don’t I get any of your attention?’ Jongin whines, nuzzling his lips into Kyungsoo’s carefully styled hair.
‘We just got married, you get to keep me for the rest of our lives. Can’t you share?’ Kyungsoo huffs, struggling (in vain) to fight Jongin off before things got… Inappropriate. ‘I promise you’ll have me all to yourself tonight, now just let me speak to Mr Park over there, he’s got no clue how to bargain whatsoever and I’m about to make us very, very rich.’
‘Not just tonight. I get you all to myself forever, right? That’s the deal. That’s the contract you signed.’ Jongin whines, letting go of Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo smiles fondly at his boyf - husband, he reminds himself, and leans up for a quick, polite peck on the lips, the emotion in his eyes enough to make Jongin’s heart melt.
‘Forever.’
Author’s Note: Alright, this was meant to be a little longer but I wanted it to be snapshots that leave the rest to you guys’ imaginations so I didn’t write everything I wanted heh I’m sorry
Also okay I have no idea what to wear for World Stage tonight so yeah flipping a little over that
Thank you for reading!
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