Chapter Text
Jongin is absolutely seething as he waits on Chanyeol’s doorstep, and erupts when the door opens, “What the hell was that last night, huh?!”
Resting his shoulder against the door jamb, arms crossed, Chanyeol’s lips curl and eyes gleam in amusement as he takes in the sight of Jongin. “Good afternoon to you, too.”
Unimpressed, Jongin glares at him. “Your keeper purposely conceded the second goal.”
Chanyeol shrugs. “Slip ups happen.”
“Sure—” Jongin bobs his head “—From a keeper with an eighty-seven save percentage. I would know. Don’t act like you weren’t behind this.” He jabs a finger in Chanyeol’s direction. “You helped them gain a goal difference over us. Why is that, hmm? You don’t want to face us in the tournament, is that it? Are you that afraid we’ll beat you?”
With a hand on the door jamb, Chanyeol leans into Jongin’s space, looking down at him with contempt, their faces only an inch apart. “It scared you, didn’t it? Your team’s last performance wasn’t exactly up to par; in fact, it was pathetic—abysmal at best. Thought I’d give you guys a wake up call. Show you what happens when you slack off in this competition.”
Jongin fists his fingers in Chanyeol’s shirt, face contorted in anger. “You asshole. You had no right.”
“Calm down. If I didn’t want you to qualify, I’d have my team throw the entire game. We can afford it,” Chanyeol says coolly, prying Jongin’s fingers from his shirt. “But I scored those two goals just for you.” He’s all snark; there’s no gentleness to his words, unlike the way he clings onto Jongin’s hand rather than letting go.
Jongin jerks his hand out of Chanyeol’s hold and sneers up at him. “Do you expect a thank you.”
“No, but I’d like for you to get your shit together. And maybe then receive a thank you. Remember—you still have a game in hand. Don’t rely on the goal difference to bail you out. Just win the game. Or draw, but I rather you win.”
“Holy fuck, I hate you so much,” Jongin hisses, and thumps his fist against Chanyeol’s chest.
“Hate me all you want but it doesn’t change that the scouts are watching. If you want to play professionally, your team needs to step up…You’re talented. And I’d hate for you to miss out just because you couldn’t see it through when it mattered the most.”
Jongin falters, anger subsiding as his hands drop to his sides. Frustration takes over instead.
“You know I’m right,” Chanyeol says softly. He reaches to caress Jongin’s cheek, but Jongin turns his face away, staring off into the distance.
“I hate it when you’re right,” he mumbles, and the words almost get eaten by the wind. He looks back at Chanyeol with a sheepish expression, the anger completely withered out and eyes mournful as he brushes back short strands of hair whipping around forehead. “We played terribly, didn’t we?”
Chanyeol lets out a low hum of disagreement. “Now I wouldn’t say terrible…” He tilts his head with a grin.
Jongin scoffs, glancing to his left again at the empty road.
“Hey.” Chanyeol lightly tugs Jongin by the elbow to grab his attention before he can run away again. “Look, you came all the way here just to yell at me in this weather. At least come inside for a bit. I’ll make you something.”
Jongin stares at him for a moment, contemplating, and then murmurs, “Okay.”
—
Chanyeol helps Jongin out of his coat, hanging it on the rack before he leads him inside.
Chanyeol’s residence consists of only two separate sections that make up the bathroom and closet, while the rest is an entirely open space with a bed on one end of the spacious room, and the kitchen on the other; the “living-room” takes up the middle with a couch and a large flatscreen on the long console table.
“Just coffee is fine,” Jongin says as he takes a seat at the kitchen island. He would prefer tea, but he knows Chanyeol doesn’t keep any tea bags around.
Jongin watches Chanyeol go through the cupboards for mugs, and bites his lip. Chanyeol looks good dressed in plain, blue pyjama bottoms and a white tee with short sleeves that have been bunched up to show off his toned arms. Jongin’s gaze drifts to the unmade bed; he blushes from the reminder it brings.
Chanyeol catches Jongin looking and grins knowingly. The mugs clink together as he places them on the countertop. “Thinking about that night, huh?”
Embarrassed, Jongin turns his head to stare out the small window just above the sink that overlooks the street located in the back. He feels Chanyeol’s presence as he prowls around the island and fits into Jongin’s space so naturally, trapping Jongin between his arms against the counter top.
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” Chanyeol says. Jongin’s breath catches in his throat, goosebumps forming as Chanyeol’s lips tease along the length of his neck, just barely hovering over the skin there.
Chanyeol’s voice is quiet as a whisper as he asks, “Is this okay?” And Jongin nods wordlessly, dazed, allowing Chanyeol’s lips to brush up his neck to his jaw.
Chanyeol cups the other side of Jongin’s face, pressing a firm kiss against Jongin’s cheek, then the corner of his mouth as he tilts Jongin’s chin up toward him, and finally his lips. The kiss starts out tentative, slowly grows bolder and more urgent until Jongin is forced to turn in his seat to fully face Chanyeol.
The stool is tall enough that Chanyeol barely needs to bend over to be at level with Jongin, and he teases by leaning back slightly with each slide of their lips so Jongin has to sit up in his seat, back stretched in an arch to keep up and not break their liplock. Chanyeol can’t help but grin into the kiss when Jongin, practically out of his seat now, makes a small noise of frustration.
Circumventing, Jongin pushes himself off of the stool and wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck as he kisses him back fervently. Chanyeol groans against Jongin’s lips, hands immediately falling to Jongin’s waist.
Jongin moans softly around Chanyeol’s tongue, and snakes a hand up the back of Chanyeol’s neck to his hair, tugging on the strands tightly. He gets a nip on his bottom lip for it. Chanyeol’s hands stroke down his back, tugging him closer by the curvature of his ass. He whimpers when Chanyeol’s pelvis presses against his; he can feel Chanyeol’s hard-on. They are moving pretty quickly. It makes his heart pound rapidly in his chest, but he doesn’t want to slow down.
He pulls Chanyeol forward by the shirt until he feels the familiar dig of the countertop against his back, trapping him between Chanyeol and the island. Chanyeol lifts Jongin up by the hips onto the surface, standing between his legs as he kisses him roughly until Jongin forgets how to breathe. Jongin moans when Chanyeol’s blunt nails rake down his jeans-clad thighs, and it gets swallowed by Chanyeol’s mouth. He takes Chanyeol’s face into his hands, sucking on his tongue.
They finally part, panting as they stare at each other. Jongin bites his lip and plays with the ends of Chanyeol’s hair. Chanyeol places his hands on either side of Jongin on the counter. “Do you want to, maybe, have a repeat of that night?” he asks, angling his head to sweetly kiss Jongin one more time.
Jongin’s eyes flutter to a close at the soft press of lips against his. When Chanyeol pulls back, Jongin searches his face, keeping his arms wrapped loosely around Chanyeol’s neck.
“Fuck it,” Jongin breathes out, wetting his lips before he closes the distance between them and smashes their lips together.
“I take that as a yes,” Chanyeol laughs in between kisses. A moan is coaxed out of Jongin when Chanyeol runs a hand down his chest, pinching his nipple over his shirt. He makes a small noise in surprise, breaking the kiss when Chanyeol tugs him off of the counter by the waist, and he instinctively grabs at Chanyeol’s shoulders to steady himself as he lands on his feet.
Chanyeol starts tugging at Jongin’s shirt, pulling it over Jongin’s head before he tosses it over to the counter. Jongin wets his lips, intimidated by the intensity of Chanyeol’s gaze on his bare torso. His hands clench at his sides as he forbears the urge to cover himself. He’s confident about his body, and accustomed to changing in front of the guys, but there’s just something about Chanyeol that makes him nervous, especially when they go long periods without seeing one another. He doesn’t want Chanyeol to lose interest, to see him and realise there’s nothing special about him.
It’s a relief when Chanyeol drinks in the sight of him, lips parted and eyes dilated with want, as if he’s seeing Jongin like this for the first time again.
Chanyeol’s lips curl up at the corner with a hint of a smirk. “Gorgeous,” he breathes out, chest rumbling with a noise of approval. It makes Jongin’s cheeks flare.
“You’re obsessed.” Jongin snorts, glancing away, flustered, with his arms crossed loosely across his chest.
“Can you fault me?”
Jongin gives him a cocky grin. “No, I won’t argue against that.”
Chanyeol smiles back, and affectionately holds Jongin by the chin, stroking the underside of his jaw, before he leans in for a soft kiss. It’s sweet, for a moment that is, until Chanyeol threads his fingers through Jongin’s hair, pulling sharply.
The pain makes Jongin hiss in pleasure against Chanyeol’s mouth, hand instinctively going up to ease the grip on his hair. So what if he’s a bit of a masochist.
He nips at Chanyeol’s bottom lip, enough to hurt but not draw blood. He grins savagely when Chanyeol lets out his own hiss, feeling his bruised lip with the tips of his fingers.
Smiling, Chanyeol bobs his head in acceptance, swiping at his lip with his thumb.
“You’re quite a nippy kitten,” he says, and boops Jongin’s nose with his finger. It makes Jongin blink in surprise. He scowls irritably, and makes to swipe at Chanyeol’s hand, but Chanyeol is already reaching over to affectionately ruffle his hair. “Explains all the scratch marks you left on me.”
“Stop it.” Jongin pushes Chanyeol’s hand away from his hair, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.
Endeared, Chanyeol chuckles and quickly takes the chance to stroke Jongin’s cheek.
“Come on,” he says after kissing Jongin again—he can’t seem to stop. He grips Jongin’s hand, walking backwards a few steps around the island as he tugs Jongin along with him, before turning around.
Following obediently, Jongin bites his lip in anticipation as he’s led to Chanyeol’s bed. His stomach is all in knots—the good kind. Being around the other captain gives him a different kind of buzz than the one he gets at games when there are so many eyes on him. This is less detached, more personal. He’s the sole focus of attention—the ball on the pitch, eh.
And he can’t seem to get enough of it.