There’s a tear in Baekhyun’s favorite hoodie, right along the seam of one sleeve. Kyungsoo’s working now to fix it, because Baekhyun is useless when it comes to sewing and would probably just make it worse. And Kyungsoo has this old dinosaur of a sewing machine at his apartment anyway, so he’s well prepared for situations like this. While he works on the sleeve, Baekhyun watches from across the table, chin resting on arms resting on stained wood, uncharacteristically quiet.
Kyungsoo pinches the fabric, lines it up just so, and pulls the sleeve along slowly under the needle. The angry mechanical buzz of the machine is practically the only sound filling the small apartment, apart from the air conditioner humming nearby. So it’s in relative silence that Kyungsoo finishes his task, snipping off a bit of loose thread at the end and inspecting his work.
“Should be fixed,” he says, tugging experimentally along the newly-stitched line. He pulls the inside-out sleeve back through itself to see how it looks on the outside. A little puckered, but it shouldn’t matter, as long as no one looks too terribly closely. “Yep, good as new.”
Baekhyun gets up and shuffles around the table to take the hoodie, then clutches the balled-up thing close like a child would hold a teddy bear. “Thanks, Soo,” Baekhyun murmurs, leaning down to kiss Kyungsoo on the temple as he starts to dismantle his temporary work station.
“Of course,” says Kyungsoo. Pausing what he’s doing, he turns and tilts his head up, smiling, which Baekhyun responds to in an almost Pavlovian way, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Maybe Pavlovian on both ends, because Kyungsoo isn’t nearly immune yet to Baekhyun’s tiny, inadvertent pout. “Let me put this away and we can get going.”
“Okay,” says Baekhyun.
The spool of thread already tucked back in its box, Kyungsoo bends down to grab the pedal and yank the cord free from the wall. As he’s winding the cord around and tucking the parts away, he asks, “What are you in the mood for?”
“Maybe Thai,” says Baekhyun. Adds after, quickly and in one breath: “I think we should talk first though because I don’t think I’m completely a guy and it’s something you should probably know.”
“Oh,” says Kyungsoo. He feels his eyes widen as he looks at Baekhyun. “Oh! Yeah, okay. Do you—should we sit down?”
“Sure.” Baekhyun starts to say something, stops, starts again, makes an agitated sound and just clutches the hoodie even more tightly. Would probably wear it if the weather were right, but it absolutely isn’t. Long sleeves would be unbearable right now.
They sit on the couch, but Baekhyun, wedged between Kyungsoo and one stiff armrest, hoodie in lap, doesn’t speak up immediately, which could be a sign of nerves. Or maybe a moment of careful consideration, trying to string words or thoughts together. Still saying nothing, Baekhyun just holds one of Kyungsoo’s hands, tracing lines over his fingers with touches as wispy-soft as dandelion seeds.
Now that the initial surprise has faded, there’s so much Kyungsoo could say, so much he wants to say, but it’s all useless until he knows what Baekhyun needs and feels. Because this isn’t about what Kyungsoo wants, even if this is his relationship, too, his partner, his dear darling love. He holds it all back and lets his thumb brush one of Baekhyun’s passing fingers, which twitches before pressing back lightly. He settles for, “So, wanna share the good news?”
Baekhyun, not meeting Kyungsoo’s eye, melts into his side and keeps playing idly with his hand. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Baekhyun says, a little quietly. “And I just thought I cared so much about that kind of stuff because of you, ’cause you talk about gender things a lot and it’s a big part of your life, and ’cause you’re my boyfriend so of course, right?”
“Right,” says Kyungsoo. “You were being supportive.” Which has been nice, of course, though support can only go so far. It’s one thing to care, but another matter entirely to empathize in a meaningful way.
“And there’s a lot of stuff you’ve told me about dysphoria, and I get that, but I guess I didn’t know what it really meant for a while. I just thought it was… just… a shitty feeling,” Baekhyun confesses. “But there was that video I watched by—whoever that was, about gender euphoria, and describing how it felt to be gendered correctly? And. Um.” A pause. “I told you about that volunteer orientation where they only used neutral pronouns for everyone? Instead of assuming? Like everyone does all the time?”
Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun’s speech start to get just a bit louder, a bit faster, anxious or excited or both. “Yeah,” he says. “It sounded nice.”
“It was,” says Baekhyun. “So one of them was saying something about me to another person on the staff, and said ‘they’ instead of ‘he,’ and I thought I was just happy ’cause it’s really nice of them, and I thought, ‘If Soo were here he’d approve of all this inclusive language.’”
“I would,” Kyungsoo confirms.
“But watching that video made me think about it again, ’cause they talked about… pronouns and affirmation, and.” Baekhyun snuggles down into Kyungsoo’s side even more, wiggling in a way that has almost certainly dislodged one of the cushions and started it on a slow descent toward the floor. “I’ve never felt bad about people calling me a guy. It doesn’t bug me. It doesn’t matter. But I was happy when someone thought… that maybe I wasn’t one.”
There are fireworks in Kyungsoo’s chest. He snuggles back against Baekhyun, who’s like a soft, noodly pillow, all cozy and malleable and warm. This is an important moment and still not about Kyungsoo at all, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling quietly thrilled and proud in a way he didn’t even know he could be. He’s going to kiss Baekhyun’s face a lot after this, he decides. Cheeks and nose and forehead and lips and chin, and big beautiful ears, over and over. If Baekhyun lets him, of course. But in the whole time they’ve known each other, Baekhyun’s never not wanted to be kissed, just preferring different sorts of kisses on different occasions. And this particular occasion is neither one of us is cis and I’m ecstatic, so let me show you how happy I am this way so I can keep up my two-year no-crying streak.
Baekhyun lets out an almost-word of hesitation, so Kyungsoo says, “Take your time.”
Following a pause, Baekhyun says, “I guess there are a few different words I could go with, but I don’t really know what I am yet, so I can’t decide on one. But not really a guy. Not a woman, though. Or I don’t think I am. Right now.”
“You don’t have to decide anything,” says Kyungsoo. “Just do what makes you comfortable. And let me know if it changes.”
“Okay.” Baekhyun relaxes against him, as though having waited to hear Kyungsoo say that. “And—I should’ve told you all of this sooner, since I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I knew if I talked to you about it you could help me figure some things out? But I kept thinking I might be wrong.” Baekhyun doesn’t say this in a soft or subdued voice, with shame or uncertainty, but as a point of fact. “And I didn’t want you to be upset or think I was lying to try to—fuck, I dunno, fit in. Take something that wasn’t mine. But I don’t think I’m wrong, so I’m telling you, ’cause you should know.”
“Baekhyun,” says Kyungsoo, trying not to take on a chastising tone, “I wouldn’t be upset with you for not understanding how you feel. And I wouldn’t think you were lying, partly because you’re the worst liar I know.”
Baekhyun wheeze-laughs and says, “True.”
“Plus, if you tried to appropriate the trans experience, or whatever you thought that would mean, I’d be obligated to tell you you’re in for a really shitty time, and probably shouldn’t voluntarily sign up for things that you’ve witnessed the fairly major downsides to.”
“That’s kind of how I knew I wasn’t making it up,” says Baekhyun. “I thought about just, I guess, opting out and living as a cis guy, because it’s easier, but I realized I couldn’t… do that. Like. There’s no opting out of being what you are.”
“Not true,” says Kyungsoo. “Plenty of people pretend not to be what they are.”
“Yeah, but it’s not—you know.”
Kyungsoo does know. He knows all too well.
“Anyway,” says Baekhyun, “that’s all I wanted to say. I still want you to call me your boyfriend, and ‘he’/‘him’ is fine, and you don’t need to get mad at Chanyeol for calling me ‘dude’ or anything. Not changing my name, either. Almost everything’s still the same.”
“Would you like it if I used different pronouns for you, though?” asks Kyungsoo. “Or are you just giving it as an option?”
“I think I’d like it. But maybe not all the time?” More wiggling. “Think I still wanna be a boy sometimes. But… ‘them’ and ‘him’ are both okay.”
“Okay,” Baekhyun repeats, then laughs, and any tension that was left falls away in an instant. “Yeah. Okay. So that’s it.”
“Can I say something now?” asks Kyungsoo, settling back just enough to look at Baekhyun, who finally looks back, smiling a bit at Kyungsoo’s grin.
“Oh, yeah, go for it.”
“I’m proud of you, Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo ducks his head and butts his forehead gently against Baekhyun’s. He thinks if he smiles any harder it’s probably going to hurt, but he isn’t concerned about that just now, because Baekhyun’s smile is growing, too, with steady ease. “It means a lot that you told me this. And even if you change your mind later, no matter what you are or how you change or don’t change, I’ll be happy for you, and I’ll love you, and I’ll be right there with you, because you’re my favorite dumbass in the world.”
Baekhyun, who was starting to look misty-eyed, lets out a barking laugh of surprise. The hand that had been playing with Kyungsoo’s curls its long, slender fingers around his, and squeezes tightly.
“Thank you for trusting me,” says Kyungsoo, “and for being exactly the way you are.”
“Exactly the way I am?” says Baekhyun, grinning crookedly.
“I could do without you taking a massive dump when I’m in the shower,” says Kyungsoo, “but I still wouldn’t change you for anything.”
Baekhyun giggles deviously and gives Kyungsoo a tiny peck on the lips. Their noses bump in the process, smooshing together slightly. But Kyungsoo, like Baekhyun, will really never turn down a kiss, so he isn’t going to complain.
“After we eat, I’m going to kiss you a lot,” Kyungsoo warns. “It’s an important part of the ritual of letting my boyfriend know how much I love them.”
Baekhyun just beams, sunshine personified, glowing enough to warm Kyungsoo, too, with vicarious joy. It was only one word, but Kyungsoo knows the importance of singular words, and he’s glad this was the right one.
“I’ll hold you to that,” says Baekhyun, scrunching their nose cutely and brushing it against Kyungsoo’s in the most adorably innocent kiss imaginable.
The two of them go to a restaurant they like and get their food to go, like usual. Kyungsoo could count on one hand the number of times they’ve bothered to sit at a table and be waited on. Casual misgendering isn’t exactly something he looks forward to when he eats, so it’s easier to just avoid it. Still happens sometimes regardless, of course, but he tries not to let it keep him from venturing out into the world.
When they arrive back at Kyungsoo’s, Baekhyun hops out of the passenger seat, grabs the bag of food and all but skips away with it. They flit around to the other side of the car, where they catch a bemused Kyungsoo and plant a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek.
“What was that for?” Kyungsoo asks, smiling and touching the spot where Baekhyun kissed him.
“You said we’re kissing after food,” says Baekhyun. “Needed something to tide me over till then.”
“Silly,” says Kyungsoo, like he isn’t still smiling all lovesick.
Their preferred setup for dinner is to hook Kyungsoo’s laptop up to the television, which is the only thing the TV is there for, and sit at the coffee table—really a repurposed travel trunk with a sheet of plywood over the top—while watching shows or videos. Today it’s some anime Baekhyun’s been trying to get Kyungsoo into, but it feels very much like a nostalgia pick, more of something that teenage Baekhyun loved than something present Baekhyun cares all that much about.
And Baekhyun isn’t paying that much attention anyway. They eat, talk over the show, fidget, feed Kyungsoo without his needing to ask.
Feed Kyungsoo a lot, actually, to the point where Kyungsoo has to lean back and gently push their hand away, still chewing the last mouthful they gave him.
“Thanks, but I’m not trying to choke,” Kyungsoo says after swallowing enough to speak.
Baekhyun looks at their chopsticks like they hadn’t even realized they were holding anything out. “Oops,” they say, then shove the noodles into their own mouth. “Spaced out, sorry.”
“Focus on your own food,” says Kyungsoo. “I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself.”
“I try being selfless, and this is the treatment I get?” Baekhyun lets out an exaggerated closed-mouth sigh.
“So selfless, making me watch an anime where people get murdered with baseball bats,” Kyungsoo says dryly.
“First of all, the baseball bat murder thing only happened once. And second of all, okay, I’ll admit it’s kind of edgy,” says Baekhyun. “But there’s this cool thing with time loops and a curse that—no, you’re not feeling it.”
“Not really,” says Kyungsoo, not bothering to apologize to soften the statement because it’s really teenage Baekhyun’s fault this happened, when it comes down to it. He stretches to grab the last of the coconut prawns, frowning when he realizes the sauce is gone.
“Yeah, that’s fair.” Baekhyun leans over and reaches to the side of the coffee table, closing the window the show’s playing in. They open YouTube instead and select a cooking video from the recommendations, seemingly at random. “There,” they say, sitting back up.
Kyungsoo lightly ruffles Baekhyun’s hair, which by now has gotten fluffy and shaggy-long—the sort of length and volume that gives Kyungsoo secondhand discomfort when they go out in the heat together. He lets his hand rest on their neck, catching on the collar of their shirt. It’s one of the soft kinds of touches that they’ve established to mean you’re my favorite person when the words themselves feel like too much. That’s how Kyungsoo can reconcile his awkwardness with affection, how he avoids giving too much of it, or giving it in a way that feels unnatural or excessive. All this time together and he still finds himself second-guessing.
Baekhyun is easy to please, though. Any amount of attention they get is rewarded with a soppy grin, or a kiss, or them melting into Kyungsoo like they’re doing right now, threatening to push him over if they put any more of their weight on him.
“Make me this exact cake,” says Baekhyun, pointing a chicken skewer at the television screen, still leaning heavily into Kyungsoo’s side, “and I’ll forgive you for not caring about my shitty niche interests.”
“I’ll make you pancakes in the morning,” says Kyungsoo.
Baekhyun seems to mull this over, humming as they pull chicken off the skewer with their teeth. They say mid-chew, “Fancy pancakes?”
That means the little souffle ones that Kyungsoo can barely pull off on a good day. For Baekhyun, though, he’ll at least try. “Take out the trash and I’ll think about it,” he says.
There’s not much left in the way of leftovers by the time they’re both finished eating. Kyungsoo packs the remainder of the food away and starts on some light cleaning while Baekhyun takes care of the garbage.
Date nights usually follow a pattern. One of them will go to the other’s apartment, where they sit around, catch each other up on anything they’ve missed in the world or their lives, and try to figure out what to do about dinner. They eat while watching stupid things, then clean up whatever mess was made by the food they cooked (rather, that Kyungsoo cooked) or ordered, and spend an hour or two entertaining themselves before going to bed, at what their friends consider a time reserved for the elderly. Kyungsoo works early hours during the week, though, and likes to keep a consistent sleep schedule to make his life less miserable. It’s a little bit necessary.
Once Baekhyun’s done and their hands are washed, they sidle up to Kyungsoo, who’s cleaning some dishes from earlier in the day, and hunch down to nuzzle just behind his ear.
“Think someone owes me kisses,” they say. They sniff a few times. “Change your shampoo?”
“Nope, just using a moisturizing serum.”
“Oh.” Baekhyun sniffs again. “It smells nice.”
They give Kyungsoo just enough space for him to wash and dry his hands, then snuggle up to him again the moment he turns around, trapping him in their arms and pressing their face to the curve of his neck.
Kyungsoo laughs and winds his arms around them. “You know I can’t kiss you like this,” he says.
Baekhyun shushes him and mutters something indistinct. Their lips tickle against Kyungsoo’s skin.
“What was that?”
“Clingy mood,” says Baekhyun. “Gimme a minute.”
“Alright,” says Kyungsoo, just holding and letting himself be held. He figures Baekhyun is probably feeling a little tender and antsy still from the conversation earlier, even if they’ve acted the same as usual since then. He’s more than willing to give them the time they need.
After a minute or so of this, Baekhyun pulls back and declares, “My breath’s gonna smell like peanut sauce and basil, just so you know what you’re getting into here.”
“So will mine,” says Kyungsoo. “Really not a big deal.”
Bracing against Baekhyun with his hands on their chest, Kyungsoo pushes up onto the balls of his feet and kisses them on the mouth, then the cheeks, then the tip of their nose. He cups their cheeks with his hands and captures their lips with his, and he kisses them deeply, and the lingering tastes passing between the both of them are strong but unimportant. Baekhyun’s hands take hold of his upper arms, pushing up the sleeves of his T-shirt that’s really Baekhyun’s, and keep him steady.
This is the most sincere way for Kyungsoo to show how he feels. Not the kissing itself—that part is nice, obviously, but secondary to the real point of what they’re doing, in Kyungsoo’s mind. It’s about giving someone his full attention, which he’s so rarely able to do. He’s been accused more times than he can count of not being fully present in the moment, of not engaging, of making people feel like they aren’t worth his time. And it’s not true at all. He cares, and he wants to have real, meaningful connections with the people in his life; he just struggles to focus sometimes, has trouble remembering things—names and dates and places, promises, plans—and more often than not he’s just so tired he aches in a deep, irreparable way, which makes it hard to think at all, let alone muster up any semblance of enthusiasm. The occasional flare-ups of dysphoria don’t help, either.
But with Baekhyun, those things matter less. The bad feelings are still there, hovering at all times in the background, but it’s easier for Kyungsoo not to focus on them—and even if he does, he has someone waiting patiently beside him, pulling him back again if he starts to drift too far. More than anything, that’s how he knows that he loves them, and that what they have together means something. With Baekhyun, Kyungsoo feels like Kyungsoo, and not some specter of what he’s supposed to be.
And he shouldn’t care so much about this new revelation from Baekhyun, because it doesn’t change anything, because they’re still the same Baekhyun they always were. But at the same time, it changes absolutely everything. Knowing the person he loves is just like him (or not just, but something so very close) is such a beautiful thing. He’d hoped for this for so long, selfishly—selfish because there are things about this that will be hard for both of them, and have the potential to get even harder—but didn’t think it could ever be true. He feels a closeness to Baekhyun now that he doesn’t even fully understand, like theirs is one heart beating in two chests, and everything is good and right and wonderful.
He tries to pour all of this feeling into the kiss, hoping he can communicate all his love and adoration. It still doesn’t seem sufficient. He pulls back to say, “You mean the world to me, Baekhyun.” He kisses the corner of their mouth, then their cheek, and standing practically on the tips of his toes like this is getting uncomfortable but he doesn’t stop, can’t.
He hears and feels Baekhyun giggle breathily. “When did you get all sappy and romantic?” they tease. “I like this new Kyungsoo.”
“Shut up,” says Kyungsoo, finally lowering himself back to the floor with a huff. “Just trying to tell you how I feel.”
“Am I complaining?” says Baekhyun, grinning. They lean down for another peck on the lips. “Come on, tell me more gooey, mushy things. Make me melt.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” says Kyungsoo.
“Sweet talker.” Baekhyun kisses him again.
When it’s finally time for bed, Baekhyun flops unceremoniously onto Kyungsoo’s mattress, which, though soft, is barely large enough for the pair to fit comfortably on. Kyungsoo has to urge them to get back up and change into something resembling nightwear, because he refuses to spoon them if they’re wearing skinny jeans. Baekhyun complies, stripping down to a shirt and underwear, but keeping their socks on, because they’re one of those people. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo takes off his binder, puts on a loose shirt and boxers, and joins Baekhyun in bed.
After they say their goodnights, a silence stretches on between them for long enough that Kyungsoo assumes Baekhyun’s fallen asleep already. They have a talent for that, even when they aren’t tired. Probably conditioned into them from how many times they’ve had to turn in early for Kyungsoo’s sake.
The silence is broken, though, with a quiet, “Hey.”
Kyungsoo opens his eyes to squint tiredly at the back of Baekhyun’s fluffy head. “Hm?”
“Thanks for being my safe place,” says Baekhyun.
Heart full, Kyungsoo holds them tighter and hooks a leg around one of theirs. His foot catches awkwardly in the sheet, but he doesn’t care.
“Thanks for being mine,” he replies.
Over the course of the night, Baekhyun managed to turn and flop around so much that a third of their body is dangling off the side of the mattress. It’s not the first time this has happened. Once, Kyungsoo was woken by the sound of Baekhyun falling entirely off the bed, thudding heavily on the floor and whimpering pathetically in the aftermath.
He reaches over lazily and tugs on the back of their shirt, since ideally, he’d like to avoid having his boyfriend start the day with an injury. To his surprise, Baekhyun grunts and turns their head on the pillow to look at him blearily, already awake. Well, as awake as Baekhyun can be first thing in the morning.
“Hi,” they mumble drowsily.
“Falling off the bed,” says Kyungsoo.
“Mmhm. Giving you more room,” says Baekhyun, closing their eyes again. “Trying t’be considerate.”
Kyungsoo snorts. “Still a bad liar,” he says. “C’mere.”
They shift around so their whole body is safely back on the mattress, but make no attempt to cuddle up to Kyungsoo. They say groggily, “Got a semi, hold on.”
“Ah.” Kyungsoo mulls this information over for a moment before asking, “Wanna wait for it to go away, or want me to help?”
Baekhyun peers at him with a single dark, curious eye. While sex isn’t a rarity in their relationship, it’s usually something they plan out ahead of time, talking over what they’re going to do before they do it. Kyungsoo’s relationship with his body is in a constant state of flux, so they have to account for that. But masturbating Baekhyun doesn’t bother him in the slightest. If it’s something they want, Kyungsoo would like to do it for them.
“Sure,” says Baekhyun, “if you’re offering.”
“First, I have to ask,” says Kyungsoo. “Is there anything you want me to change about how I touch you? Or the words we use?”
Baekhyun stares blankly and licks their lips. “I don’t think so,” they say. “I don’t really know what you could change about it anyway. My dick’s still just… a thing.”
“Not an especially positive description,” Kyungsoo points out.
“I just don’t care about this stuff the way some people do,” says Baekhyun. “My junk doesn’t bug me but I’m not… all that attached to it or anything? I like getting off with you. I don’t really care how it happens.”
Kyungsoo considers this. “Alright,” he says, “let’s try something.”
They lie together front-to-front, Baekhyun’s shirt hiked up slightly and briefs pushed down, Kyungsoo’s head tucked just under their chin. He sticks two fingers in his mouth, then pulls them out and arches back a bit to reach between their bodies.
Baekhyun’s erection is flagging, but it’s definitely there. Kyungsoo feels it as he reaches past, moving his hand between Baekhyun’s legs. He notices Baekhyun’s sharp inhale, and pauses to say, “Not putting anything in you, don’t worry.”
That gets them to relax somewhat, until Kyungsoo presses his fingers to their taint and makes them go, “Oh.” They press their thighs together, probably out of reflex, then loosen up again as he nudges with the back of his hand.
It starts off as a gentle massage as Kyungsoo strokes his fingers over the sensitive skin of Baekhyun’s taint. They whimper quietly, and say things like, “So good,” and, weakly, “Yeah, fuck.” The arm that’s around Kyungsoo’s shoulders tightens its hold, and when Kyungsoo kisses their collarbones he feels a hand clutch fruitlessly at his shirt. Then he pulls his hand back, wets his fingers with his mouth again, and returns to the spot with a firm pressure now, rubbing back and forth.
When Baekhyun lets out a whining moan, Kyungsoo asks, “Here?” He presses back into the spot he just rubbed. It’d been guesswork up until now, searching around and hoping for the best.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun replies breathily.
Kyungsoo kisses the top of their chest. “Want me to keep going?”
As Kyungsoo keeps fingering Baekhyun’s prostate through their taint, he can feel their erection press against his belly. It makes his own growing hardness throb. He thinks he can handle his arousal on this particular day. Thinks it’ll feel good to come with Baekhyun.
In the meantime, he knows he can’t keep the rubbing up indefinitely, especially without lube to keep Baekhyun’s skin from chafing, and from what he’s heard it could take time to come from this alone. He says, “Lie down and I’ll suck you.”
Baekhyun moves to lie flat on their back. This is familiar to the two of them in some way, because Kyungsoo’s gone down on Baekhyun before, but it’s just been run-of-the-mill blowjobs, which Kyungsoo’s never felt he’s especially good at anyway. Too strong of a gag reflex, too frequent of resentment over their respective roles in it. He isn’t going to do that now. What he does instead is settle down in the space between Baekhyun’s legs, put his weight on an arm that he rests along their thigh and hip, and use that hand to hold their cock down flat against their abdomen. He wets the fingers of his other hand one last time before resuming the fingering, then lowers his head.
He sucks on Baekhyun’s glans, gives it a few tiny licks, then wraps his lips around the tip of it. As he does this, he searches around again for that spot on Baekhyun’s taint that made them cry out, trying not to prod too roughly. When he hears them moan softly, he takes that as encouragement, pushing down and then stroking lightly back up. And Baekhyun just whimpers, and chokes out Kyungsoo’s name, and then, “Fuck.”
He continues using his mouth on the head of Baekhyun’s cock, sucking and licking, though not sure what, if anything, this specific act might be doing for them. He figures, though, that it’s at least something different. If Baekhyun’s so apathetic to their genitals, it might not matter if it’s treated like a man’s junk or not. Or maybe it will matter, but in a different way than what either of them expects. There’s only one way to find out.
“Oh oh oh,” Baekhyun rasps, “gonna come,” which is Kyungsoo’s cue to pull back and just let his hand do the rest of the work while he kisses and nips at Baekhyun’s inner thigh. He feels them shudder with their climax. When he looks up and sees them all dazed and flustered and streaked with come, it reminds him just how turned on he is, all because of Baekhyun and their body and their noises.
He crawls back up the length of Baekhyun’s body, lying only halfway on top of them to keep from getting their come all over his shirt. He kisses an exposed part of their shoulder and says, “Wanna fuck you.”
Baekhyun replies with that same helpless breathiness as before, “Fuck. Please.”
A quick, tight-lipped kiss is exchanged, then Kyungsoo settles one leg between Baekhyun’s and leverages himself with it to grind down against them through his underwear. He’s leaking with precome already as he rubs his cock against Baekhyun’s hip.
One of Baekhyun’s hands, which had stayed entirely out of the way before, moves slowly down Kyungsoo’s back and stops just at the elastic band of his boxers. He hears a husky, “Okay?”
Kyungsoo makes a sound of confirmation that’s muffled by Baekhyun’s shoulder. He feels Baekhyun’s hand slide down past the waistband and grope at his ass, kneading it with the same not-quite-gentleness Kyungsoo had just used with their prostate. He stifles a moan and keeps fucking against Baekhyun’s hip and upper thigh determinedly, while Baekhyun pushes back, arching into him.
It takes less time than usual for Kyungsoo to feel his orgasm building. He distantly attributes this to his incredibly good mood, and to Baekhyun’s hands and little gasping sounds, and just Baekhyun themself, and how dizzyingly in love with them Kyungsoo is.
He kisses Baekhyun’s skin, gropes around for their other hand, and manages to only clumsily grab at their wrist before he comes, a singular high moan escaping at last. He slows the frantic movement of his hips, panting, and stills just after Baekhyun, who’s now rubbing circles along his lower back.
Baekhyun presses lips to the top of his head and says, “Time to go back to sleep.”
Kyungsoo grunts and searches fumblingly for his phone on the nightstand to check the time. Just past seven, which is when he usually gets up on days off. He probably couldn’t fall back asleep even if he wanted to. Plus, there’s come on Baekhyun’s stomach and in Kyungsoo’s boxers and probably on both their clothes now, sticky and awful and drying steadily.
He cranes his neck to plant a kiss on Baekhyun’s jaw. “Come on,” he says. “Sleep time’s over.”
Baekhyun sighs. “Yeah, okay.” They drum their fingers lightly on Kyungsoo’s back. “This was really nice, though. Whatever you did.”
“Yeah?” says Kyungsoo.
“Not something I’d wanna do every time,” they say, “but I liked it.” They smile fondly, lovingly, reach up and run a hand through his hair. “I’d probably like anything you do,” they say.
Kyungsoo tuts, fighting back another smile of adoration. “Who’s the sappy romantic now?” he says, then starts to push himself up from the bed. “Alright, shower first, then pancakes.”
Baekhyun manages to catch him on the way to the bathroom, grinning playfully and pulling him in for a kiss, not as chaste this time. They’re both dirty and their combined morning breath is horrific, but neither of them can really turn down a kiss. Not from their favorite person.