Jonghyun is chewing on Kibum’s shoulder, quietly watching the corner of the screen for the window that reflects Kibum’s animated signing as he skypes his mother. He’s feeling a little floaty, so even though he watches Kibum’s hand come up to swat gently at his nose, he startles a little.
Kibum laughs, nosing Jonghyun’s cheek, tilting his head back at the screen. “She’s wondering if you’re okay, say hi.”
Jonghyun ducks his head, embarrassed about his blipping, signing clumsily in his oversized cashmere sweater; “hello, mom, isn’t Kibum pretty?”
She signs laughing at him, the amusement clear in her eyes. Off screen, where Kibum has moved so Jonghyun would be visible, he bites Jonghyun’s ankle, poking his tongue out when his boyfriend turns to look at him, the ball of his tongue ring clicking against his teeth as he pushes himself off Jonghyun’s leg to go grab something, probably to give him some one on one time with his mom (Jonghyun adores Kibum’s mother).
Jonghyun scrunches his nose at him, fingers coming up to push back his bangs, Kibum’s mother cheekily signing at him, “You’re pretty, too.” Jonghyun just flaps his hands at the screen, hiding his face in the collar of his turtleneck.
He peeks out from his sweater shell to sign, “Not as pretty as you, mom.” Most of his sign language is “flirty language” that Kibum has taught him, but even though his vocabulary is a little limited, he doesn’t think he would be responding much differently.
Kibum crawls back onto the bed, one of his larger prints in his hands as he walks on his knees into the frame. His mother immediately takes interest, rapid fire signing, probably something like praise, or an insightful analysis that Jonghyun wouldn’t really be able to follow even if he was fluent. Art is great, but he went to school for music theory. He doesn’t speak fine art, not like Kibum and his mother do. He’s getting a little zoney again, fixating on the mole behind his boyfriend’s ear, unconscious of the little pout on his lips.
Kibum gently knocks his shoulder with his own after a while, squeezing at his side. “Mom wants to know if you can come up with mood music for the exhibition next month, it’s a paid gig.” Kibum has one of those smiles on his face, like he has a wild secret he’s keeping from Jonghyun, but really it is just Kibum being handsome and smirky and his cheek dimpling and his face being cute.
Instead of being irritated at how beautiful Kibum is, he turns to his boyfriend’s mother, chewing his thumb before signing “okay,” bringing his right hand up to catch the “k” sign.
Kibum’s mother signs for kisses, and Jonghyun recognizes the signs for old and sleep, hastily signing back, “not old!” before signing his goodbyes as well. Kibum snaps his laptop shut as the ended call bloop sounds, leaning over Jonghyun to set it on the nightstand, a victim of Kibum’s rainbow vomit phase, when he would invite Jonghyun over to play darts with paint filled balloons.
It was probably one of their very first dates, now that he’s thinking about it. Kibum’s cheek is propped up on his wrist, elbow by Jonghyun’s ear, leg thrown over Jonghyun’s, eyes a little sleepy but fixed on his boyfriend’s in that disarmingly honest way of his.
“Jjong.” His voice comes out rough and deep, and Jonghyun doesn’t know if that’s why his stomach clenches, or if it’s because Kibum’s fingers have found their way underneath his sweater to brush against the soft of his tum, moving to splay against his hip, thumb circling the little star shaped hip anchors Kibum switched his jewelry to earlier that afternoon.
Jonghyun reaches up to mouth at one of Kibum’s snakebites, his “Yeah?” melting into a little groan against Kibum’s mouth when his fingers find Jonghyun’s breasts, the backs of his knuckles trailing back and forth, teasing.
“Did you know,” Kibum says, a wickedly charming little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “that I like you a lot?” Jonghyun reaches up to headbutt his cheek, a petulant frown trying to hide his smile.
He tries to glare. “Yes I did, you big nerd.”
He has so many feelings for Kibum, feelings that he’s never had words for, and like doesn’t quite fit, and neither does love, and it is so frustrating because it is those things but also other nameless things, so usually he just insults Kibum because he knows he will understand. The look in his eyes reflects the same sentiment, and Jonghyun gets a little lost in them, thinking about how terrifyingly easy they fit together, even though words can be hard, and understanding your wordless feelings can be harder.
Kibum chooses that moment to kiss him, and he can feel his smile on his mouth, lips parting to slide his tongue against Kibum’s chiclet teeth. He sighs into his mouth, relishing how perfectly lazy and sweet the kiss is. Kibum’s free hand, stroking along his side, stops at his hip, thumb catching at his boyshorts, grunting against Jonghyun’s lips before pulling away slightly, nose hovering just above Jonghyun’s own. He quirks his lips to the side, dimple peeking as his eyes cast down before flicking back up to meet Jonghyun’s.
“Can I eat you out?” His voice is an awful mix between soft and rough and and his eyes are a sleepy kind of determined and it makes Jonghyun feel like his insides are erupting in flowers. He slides his nose against Kibum’s, pressing his smile to the ribbon of Kibum’s top lip.
“What kind of queen would I be if I let my subjects go hungry?” Kibum huffs a laugh against his lips, almost a snort (Kibum doesn’t snort, he scoffs, or something) tongue flicking against his teeth, his jewelry clicking when he runs it over the points of Jonghyun’s eyeteeth.
“Fair point.” Kibum pinches his tummy before dragging off Jonghyun’s boyshorts, rolling onto his side so his wiggly boyfriend can kick off his underwear.
