✿ (since the last one was so good :333 )
3: back kiss ( ˘•૩•˘ ).｡oஇ
It was one of those days again; spiteful words hurled against each other and furniture flung around.Their fights usually don’t get violent, but they both woke up on the wrong side of bed today, with a low level of tolerance. Jiyong didn’t even remember what they were arguing about (he reckoned it was probably something trivial), but Seunghyun’s shouting back too, his eyes glassy and voice beginning to go hoarse. Jiyong saw how Seunghyun’s shoulders heave upwards and down, how the last shatter of vase that spluttered all over the floor, and he threw his hands up and card his hair hastily then spat out, “I’m not going to fight with you.” Anymore, I’m not going to fight with you anymore, I’m done.
Jiyong recently had the habit of finishing sentences, or basically translating what people said to what they really meant (or so he thought). He knew he saw something reflective, something riling upwards but Seunghyun’s always bought a size or two larger than he was so the sleeves were always over his fingers or even able to fully cross it. But then he turned around, and headed for their room and he could see the scales jutting out behind his back, his grey pullover stretched to a maximum, a first time to such a sight.
And suddenly Jiyong felt so stupid for the fight (because Seunghyun’s really agitated), he saw the mess they created and wondered how did it even end up that way, and from how he saw it, he could either ignore it and trudge back to any other rooms but theirs, leave the apartment (like what usually happened after a fight), or just apologize straightaway and make the fuck up. It wasn’t that hard was it, admitting to your wrongs and saying sorry. The problem was they didn’t ever really say sorry, so there wasn’t an excuse of how that word would ever grow old between them.
He knew how much it would hurt the younger, his scales, even though he could conjure a lot of power with it too. It was white-hot electrifying pain, Jiyong recalled, one night when he finally asked him about it while caressing his nape absent-mindedly. Seunghyun looked distant when he described, and Jiyong vowed (inwardly) to shower him with love and comfort.
So he rose to his feet, and padded across the hall, avoiding the shards of glasses and paused at the door of their room. The door’s ajar, and Jiyong peeked in. Seunghyun was now topless, but he saw how rigid and slow he was when removing the pullover and how he had to awkwardly flung it aside in his stiff position with his protracting claws. He never really knew how Seunghyun overcame them when his claws riled up, though he always managed. Jiyong never told him, but he always thought Seunghyun was beautiful; sure the scales created inconvenience throughout his life and pretty much made him the way he was (with a lot of pent-up rage) but that was who he was, and even if Seunghyun couldn’t see the beauty of it, Jiyong did.
And he was never afraid of the younger, not once, because he knew Seunghyun’d never hurt him (even though he did before several times, accidentally, but the look of horror on Seunghyun’s face was the worst pain of all), and maybe that was why the raven-haired was so aggressive towards the blonde at times. Their relationship wasn’t all smooth-sailing when they got older and out of the ‘teen boys experimentation’ stage when you could get away with kissing on the pretext of slapping the label as best friends on each other. Seunghyun would push him away because he didn’t want to hurt Jiyong, and Jiyong would provoke Seunghyun to get a reaction out of him because he didn’t want to be shunned away.
The blonde pushed the door until it hit the wall to announce his arrival without being verbal, and Seunghyun flinched a little, but he remained in his position. Jiyong looked at the scales and tentatively brushed his finger against it, then slowly wrapped his arms around the younger. It was hot, but not scalding, and Jiyong wasn’t going to let that heat stopped him from embracing the cambion.
“What are you doing?” Seunghyun sounded alarm, but he had to remain calm for the scales and calws to fully revert back to being dormant.
Jiyong carefully placed his cheeks on his back and wrapped his arms tighter. He knew how much the younger crazed over backhugs. “Jiyong,” the blonde could hear the raspiness of his gravelly voice, and also how much it stained of distress. I could hurt you, stop. Jiyong finished for him inwardly.
He didn’t care, and he wasn’t going to let go.
Seunghyun felt something soft, tender and warm pressed against his nape, and how his skin began crawling a little at that, in a good way though. He could feel it trail down from his nape to the either sides of his shoulder blades, and slowly to the center of his back and the blood in his veins pulsated faster at the dangerous game Jiyong was playing. But he also could feel how his heart seemed to be bursting at its seams. Seunghyun’s scales gone back down after a few moments but Jiyong didn’t stop kissing. Slowly, tenderly, the sound of skin lapping on skin emitting and that made his body ached in a different way.
“Jiyong you can let go now,” Seunghyun grinned.
More kissing sounds, they grow louder.
So instead the younger whirled around, so fast Jiyong almost lost his footing but Seunghyun wrapped his arms firmly around his lithe waist and caught him. They’d done this a thousand times but Jiyong’s heart always had the same reaction to such close proximity with the cambion. It pounded rapidly against his ribs, and Seunghyun stared at him with his perforating gaze and a lop-sided grin forming.
Jiyong exhaled out, “I’m sorry.”
I never meant to hurt you, never. The words die at the tip of his tongue and he hoped Seunghyun had a habit of finishing sentences too.
And it’s okay, because I Iove you. (Jiyong finished the sentence for him.)
