The thing about Chanyeol that Jongin first notices is his smile.

 

From across his dorm’s dining hall he heard raucous laughter, a wheezing chuckle and a low, booming guffaw. He looked up from his plate of french fries and over the two empty tables between them, and there he saw the most genuine smile in the history of smiles. It was too wide and too many teeth, and it crinkled the corners of his deep brown eyes. Jongin wasn't able to look away, not even when those eyes honed in on him, staring in a way that made Jongin feel self-conscious. The smile eased a bit as the man tilted his head at Jongin and raised an eyebrow, almost as if asking a question. ‘Hello there, who are you?’

 

Jongin hastily wiped his own amused grin off his face and turned is attention back to his french fries, stuffing the last few in his mouth before shouldering his backpack and carrying his dishes to the tray return window. A final glance over his shoulder as he pushed through the glass doors showed the man watching Jongin flee while absently continuing his conversation with his friends.

 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Chanyeol asks, nudging Jongin’s shin with his toe from the other side of the couch. Jongin’s book has dropped to his lap, and he belatedly realises he’s been zoned out, watching Chanyeol flip the pages of his own book for the past however many minutes.

 

“You,” he answers, and Chanyeol’s smile hasn’t changed much since that first time Jongin saw it. It’s still too wide and too many teeth, still crinkles corners of his eyes, but this is the softer version, the one where his lips don’t look stretched until they might split and his eyes aren’t squeezed nearly shut. It’s the smile he saves for Jongin.

 

The first thing Chanyeol notices about Jongin is his lips.

 

Yixing said something funny, though one could never be sure whether Yixing was intentionally saying something funny or saying something in a funny way by accident. Either way, it was funny, and Chanyeol had never been able to hold in his laughter when something amused him.

 

He wasn't alone; Sehun was laughing as well, much to Yixing’s annoyance. Sehun covered his mouth with the back of his hand and wheezed like a dying seal, reaching his free hand across the table to brush his fingers against Yixing’s in an attempt to comfort him despite being unable to control his giggles.

 

Yixing huffed and pouted, and that made Chanyeol laugh even harder, partly because it was cute, but mostly because Yixing was far too old to be pouting and definitely too old to look so adorable doing it. Maybe he learned it from Minseok.

 

Chanyeol looked up and caught the eye of a pretty boy on the other side of the dining hall. He was sitting alone, a dazed look and a shy smile on his face as he watched Chanyeol absolutely lose his over Yixing’s joke... or not joke, whatever. The boy’s face was all plump lips and crescent eyes framed by his angular jaw, and when he noticed Chanyeol noticing him, his entire body seemed to blush (and there was a lot of it showing thanks to that tank top he was wearing) and he quickly averted his eyes. Chanyeol barely returned his attention to his cardboard crust, ketchup sauce, and plastic cheese dining hall pizza long enough to grab a bite before the boy disappeared through the glass doors of the dining hall, throwing Chanyeol a final glance over his shoulder that screamed ‘remember me’.

 

Chanyeol sets their books aside and clumsily folds his long legs around Jongin’s hips. He leans in to claim those gorgeous, plump lips that had caught his attention all those years ago.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Jongin,” he says between kisses. “How did I get so lucky?”

 

Jongin still blushes from head to toe whenever Chanyeol tells him how pretty he is, but at least he no longer locks himself in the bathroom in embarrassment from a simple compliment.

 

“I don’t know, Yeol. You really don’t deserve me,” he teases, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. His banter is better, too, Chanyeol thinks.

 

Jongin falls in love with Chanyeol the first time they kiss.

 

They’d been dating for four weeks. It was mostly just sharing coffee between classes or dinner in the dining hall (without Chanyeol’s friends who, Jongin had found, would tag along if not told explicitly to stay away), but that particular night, Chanyeol had saved a bit of spending money to take Jongin out somewhere nice for once. He’d gotten tickets to a musical with his student discount, and he’d found an upscale but reasonably priced restaurant just a couple of blocks from the theater.

 

The musical featured several tap dancing scenes, and Jongin found himself too captivated by the rapid movement of the dancers’ feet to pay attention to much else. Sometime after intermission Chanyeol’s hand slid into his own. Cool, calloused fingers tangled together with Jongin’s warm, smooth ones, and Jongin’s heartbeat picked up speed.

 

Jongin allowed Chanyeol to lead him through the crowd at the end of the show, followed him outside and around the corner of the building into an alley where he found himself pressed against the brick wall of an all night diner. Chanyeol’s fingers skimmed Jongin’s cheekbone and his forehead, brushing his shaggy, chestnut locks out of his face. Jongin saw Chanyeol’s eyes zero in on his lips, and he them on instinct, wetting them with his tongue as Chanyeol’s pupils dilated and drowned out the warm brown of his irises.

 

Their lips touched. Jongin didn't see it happen, didn't watch Chanyeol’s head dip toward his and tilt to the side to avoid bumping their noses together. He didn't see it because the moment it clicked in his head what was going to happen, Jongin’s eyes slipped shut involuntarily.

 

Chanyeol must have been nervous, but he didn't let it show. He confidently pressed his lips to Jongin’s and sighed, breathing against Jongin’s cheek through his nose with a sound that could have been a whimper, and Jongin had known right then, at that very second, that he was in love with Chanyeol.

 

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Jongin whispers into Chanyeol’s neck between tiny and nips to the most sensitive areas around Chanyeol’s ears and collarbones.

 

“Nh-hnh,” Chanyeol half hums, half moans. “I remember scraping my knuckles on the brick wall when you threw your head back against it. You would have cracked your skull if my hand hadn’t been there.”

 

“Funny, what I remember is how weak my knees were when you…” Jongin trails off, choosing to demonstrate instead. He opens his mouth, sinking his teeth into Chanyeol’s lower lip and grinning when Chanyeol groans. Chanyeol’s lip slips from between Jongin’s teeth as he throws his own head back, exposing his throat to Jongin’s eager lips.

 

Chanyeol knows Jongin is his foreverything (everything forever, and yes, it’s a word; just because Chanyeol made it up doesn’t make it not a word, thank you very much, Sehun) after their first date.

 

Dinner in the dining hall could not be considered an ideal date. It wasn't impressive or exciting, but Chanyeol was a broke college student with a part-time job at a cafe at the time. Chanyeol had warned his friends to stay away, to eat at another table at the very least because it was his first chance to be alone with Jongin, but of course they didn't listen.

 

Just as they started eating, Yixing slid into the seat beside Jongin and leaned against his shoulder sleepily. “Uhm, hello?” Jongin was quiet and scared, and he looked at Chanyeol with wide, panicked eyes.

 

“Xing, I said no.” Chanyeol wasn't always a fan of his own voice, too deep and loud for his own good sometimes, but it was effective at removing pests if nothing else. Yixing quickly slid back out of his seat and pouted his way over to Sehun at another table. “Sorry about that. They’re curious and annoying, but they’re really good guys once you get to know them.”

 

“It’s okay. I know I’m safe as long as I’m with you.” Jongin said, and then he smiled, and it lit up even the darkest corners of Chanyeol’s heart.

 

Chanyeol absently the platinum band on Jongin’s left ring finger with his thumb. “I love you too, you know,” Jongin tells him as he laces their fingers together and brings their hands up to kiss Chanyeol’s fingers.

 

“I know.” Chanyeol grins against Jongin’s neck. “I never doubt that. Sometimes I just feel so fortunate. It must be some kind of miracle, that I found someone like you and that you happen to love me back. I know I’m a dork sometimes, and you’re so cool… I don’t know what you see in me, but I’m glad you do.”

 

Jongin giggles. It’s probably the sweetest sound Chanyeol has ever heard outside their bedroom (because nothing compares to the noises Jongin makes when Chanyeol takes him apart piece by piece.) “Oh, please. You’re so much cooler than me,” Jongin argues, and instead of arguing back, Chanyeol quiets Jongin with his lips.

 

The best day of Jongin’s life is the day he marries Chanyeol.

 

The ceremony was small, only a handful of family members and close friends. Sehun had whined when Chanyeol had asked Yixing to be his best man, but he’d nearly knocked Jongin down with the force of his hug when Jongin told him Chanyeol had just been leaving Sehun free to accept when Jongin asked him the same.

 

They stood facing each other with Yixing and Sehun by their sides as they repeated the vows the officiant read off to them. Yixing cried. Jongin cried. Chanyeol cried. Sehun will forever claim he did not cry, but his eyes were wet and he kept sniffling until Yixing passed him a tissue as inconspicuously as possible.

 

Chanyeol looked good in his suit, black pants, white jacket, and a bright turquoise vest underneath. Someone had styled his hair, and Jongin suspected Chanyeol’s sister had gotten hold of his face because he had pretty, narrow lines of black around his eyes that miraculously stayed put even as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

 

After exchanging their rings, they kissed, quick and chaste, knowing they would have plenty of time for more on their honeymoon. Their guests clapped and congratulated them as the officiant announced them as Jongin and Chanyeol Kim, and Jongin laughed just as he had every time Chanyeol insisted he would take Jongin’s family name. He’d told Chanyeol it wasn’t necessary, that just being married would be enough for him (hell, just being together would have been enough), but Chanyeol refused take no for an answer.

 

Chanyeol danced with Jongin at the reception. He wasn't the greatest dancer, but he’d practiced hard, saying he wanted Jongin to be proud of him. Jongin was proud. Chanyeol had learned an actual waltz, and he barely tripped over his feet at all as they floated around the dance floor.

 

Later, they danced some more in the enormous bed of the gigantic honeymoon suite. Jongin got to use his hips, and Chanyeol wasn't in danger of stumbling. They were both thankful they’d decided to honeymoon in their own town because they wound up spending the entire week in bed anyway.

 

“Take me to bed,” Jongin murmurs against Chanyeol’s lips, and Chanyeol groans. He pushes himself off the couch, bending down to scoop Jongin up bridal style. Jongin loops his arms around Chanyeol’s neck. He tucks his feet in to avoid having his ankle smashed against a doorframe along the way, and he lets his head rest on Chanyeol’s shoulder, giggling at the look of concentration on Chanyeol’s face as he attempts to navigate the path around the couch and down the hallway.

 

He bounces against the mattress when Chanyeol loses his balance and nearly throws Jongin onto the bed, but before he can laugh at Chanyeol’s clumsiness, his breath is stolen from his lungs by Chanyeol’s lips on his skin.

 

The best day of Chanyeol’s life was the day he and Jongin moved in together.

 

They had waited. They had waited for everything. They had taken things slow. It had been almost a month after they started dating when they had their first kiss. The first time they slept together had been more than a year later. Chanyeol hadn’t proposed until their fourth anniversary, after they’d both graduated and had stable jobs, and Jongin had spent two years planning their wedding. In the meantime, Chanyeol lived with Yixing and Sehun and sometimes spent nights at Jongin’s apartment.

 

The day they returned from their honeymoon, a week in one of the swankiest hotels in town, they returned to an empty apartment, a brand new one, one they’d chosen and rented together. It had been a big deal to sign the lease before the wedding. There was still time for one of them to back out, and then they would be stuck with a shared space to deal with.

 

Not that Chanyeol worried that Jongin would back out, and he knew for certain he himself wouldn’t, but the possibility was still out there.

 

They held hands in the landlord’s office and passed the pen and the stack of papers back and forth, signing and initialing wherever the landlord told them to, but coming home to a place that was all their own… that was really something else.

 

The movers arrived not far behind them and immediately started unloading and reassembling furniture and placing it wherever Jongin told them to while Chanyeol carried in box after box of their belongings and stacked them in the rooms where their contents belonged. Each time they passed each other, Jongin reached out and let his fingers trail across Chanyeol’s shoulder and down his arm, and Chanyeol’s eyes were drawn to the beautiful wedding bands settled on their fingers as their hands linked momentarily.

 

Hours and hours later, after the movers had left and they’d unpacked the entire bedroom and pushed aside the boxes everywhere else, they showered together and went about christening the bathtub, and then the kitchen counter after they scarfed down Chinese takeout, and then the brand new couch in their living room (though Jongin insisted they put down a towel to protect the upholstery.) When they finally feel into bed together, they were both too spent to do much more than cuddle. Jongin fell asleep first, exhausted from their long day.

 

“I love you, Jongin,” Chanyeol whispered, sweeping his fingertips across Jongin’s forehead to tuck a stray strand of warm, chestnut brown hair behind Jongin’s ear. “You’re my foreverything, and you make me so happy.” He fell asleep with his face pressed against Jongin’s chest, curled up in a way that made him seem small despite his large frame, content in knowing that this was their home, and when he woke up the next morning, and every morning after that as well, Jongin would be there too.

 

Chanyeol kisses his way up Jongin’s leg from his ankle to the hem of his boxers. “I love it when you keep it warm in the apartment,” Chanyeol mumbles between gentle nips to Jongin’s hips. “I love it and I hate it at the same time. All this skin… so tempting.” Chanyeol tugs at Jongin’s boxers, the only garment he’d bothered to put on after his shower earlier, and Jongin throws his head back against the pillow when Chanyeol’s lips close around him.

 

Long fingers thread into Chanyeol’s silver-grey hair, knobby knuckles catching in the tangles as Jongin’s hand twists the locks in his grip. He doesn’t take control, though Chanyeol certainly would let him, but it seems to ground him, like an anchor in the sea of pleasure his mind is drifting in.

 

Pretty moans reach Chanyeol’s ears as he picks Jongin apart with his mouth, discarding the insecurities and doubts and gluing together the confidence and pride. A gasp, a sigh, a breathy whine, high and nasal, all combine to create the sweetest symphony Chanyeol has ever heard.

 

Jongin tenses and lifts his hips, pushing himself as deep as Chanyeol can take him, and then he melts into the bed with a whimper, neck arched backward to expose his sharp jawline as he cums down Chanyeol’s throat. Chanyeol a jutting hipbone with his thumb, waiting for Jongin to ride out the last wave before releasing him.

 

He climbs the bed on his hands and knees and flops onto his side, nuzzling into Jongin’s warm body and resting his hand atop Jongin’s. “Your… turn,” Jongin says, his voice slurred, lips barely moving. Chanyeol smiles.

 

“Nah, you’re spent. I’m okay. Rest.”

 

Jongin’s head moves in a nearly imperceptible nod. Chanyeol rests his cheek on Jongin’s shoulder and watches him breathe, the rise and fall of his chest as he drifts off. Chanyeol’s smile never fades. It softens, no longer too wide, too many teeth, and crinkled eyes. Now it’s more a gentle curve of lips, fine lines at the corners of eyes shining with love.

 

Chanyeol looks up at Jongin’s face, slack with sleep, plump lips parted slightly. If he’s aged a day in the eight years since they met, Chanyeol can’t see it. He still sees the pretty boy who caught his eye from across the dining hall.

 

The thing about Jongin and Chanyeol is...

 

They are completely, utterly, irrevocably in love.