“can you please just try it on?” jongin shakes the thin, shimmery red fabric enticingly, chanyeol glaring daggers at the sequined dress as if it had personally offended his family name and each and every mother, daughter, son, and father who had ever in the past, present, and future carried the last name of park.
“if you’re so curious, you try it on,” chanyeol grimaces, snatching the article of clothing and shoving it under the couch cushion, promptly flopping down to keep jongin away from the offensive dress. out of sight, out of mind.
“but you’re hyuna,” jongin tries not to laugh, keeping as straight a face possible as he steps in front of chanyeol, leaning over to bring their noses mere centimeters apart, placing both hands on either side of chanyeol’s head. “hyunseung would look really awkward wearing a red dress, no?”
going slightly cross-eyed, chanyeol shies away from jongin’s warm breath, pressing himself as far into the couch as possible. “i don’t wanna be hyuna,” chanyeol pouts, bringing up his hand to push jongin’s face away from his air.
but jongin grabs his hand before chanyeol can reach his face, using his hold to jerk chanyeol forward and draw him closer, chanyeol now perched on the very edge of the couch with jongin standing between his legs.
“i don’t want to be the girl,” chanyeol reiterates in a whisper of a voice, breathing hard as he tries not to let his rapidly increasing heart rate get the better of him.
“but you’d look so cute,” jongin smiles, releasing chanyeol’s wrist and cupping his hands around the back of chanyeol’s neck. “with your curly hair and everything,” jongin continues, his lips ghosting over chanyeol’s quivering lips. “please?”
chanyeol can’t think straight, not with jongin’s mouth leaving butterfly touches against his lips like that, jongin’s warm fingers pressing into the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck.
what was his brilliant argument again?
“please?” jongin repeats, rubbing his thumb up and down the side of chanyeol’s neck, drawing a line just above his jugular vein. “i just want to see. for me?”
with a shuddering breath, chanyeol’s idle hands jump into motion, fisting into the collar of jongin’s t-shirt and bring him down to crash their lips together in a searing, heated kiss.
“fine,” chanyeol breathes in between, fingers clawing up jongin’s shoulders to clutch at handfuls of the younger’s hair as jongin’s own hands slide down to wrap around chanyeol’s waist, jerking him up onto his feet. “fine, you little brat,” chanyeol mumbles around jongin’s mouth, lightly tugging at a few locks of hair. “you win.”
how does the punk always end up getting his way?
jongin smiles triumphantly, pulling away to wave a familiar piece of sparkling red fabric in front of chanyeol’s incredulous face.
“how did you even?”
jongin just shakes it harder.
–
“i look like an idiot,” chanyeol deadpans, walking out of the bathroom dressed in the sequined, red mini dress, the lacy hem barely reaching passed two-thirds of the way down his unblemished, pale thighs. “i’m taking it off.”
“wait,” jongin wheezes, rushing over to block chanyeol’s path back into the bathroom. “wait, can we just…” jongin stumbles over his words, wandering eyes traveling over the slim curve of chanyeol’s waist, the very nice way the fabric clings just so around his hips, those amazingly long legs and thighs.
chanyeol coughs awkwardly, shrinking away from jongin’s burning gaze. “i’d like to change now,” chanyeol states loudly, yelping embarrassingly unmanly-like when jongin grabs him by the waist and tosses him over his shoulder like chanyeol weighs nothing at all, which is crap because chanyeol is taller for crying out loud.
“put me down!” chanyeol demands, kicking his legs and flailing his fists against jongin’s back. “i am your hyung! this is so undignified!”
jongin merely shakes his head, sprinting across the apartment for their room where he’ll keep chanyeol locked in for the remainder of the evening until the other members return from their schedules.