Jongin looked beautiful in pink, or maybe it's that Jongin makes pink look beautiful. The color suits him well, softens his sharp edges and highlights his gentle curves. Kyungsoo runs his fingers through Jongin’s pastel locks, and he's certain he's never seen anything more beautiful than this- than the faded wisps of Jongin’s pink hair, soaked with water, contrasting gorgeously against his honey skin and structured bones.

Clumps of soap bubbles slide down the curves of the younger’s shoulders, and Kyungsoo dips the cup back into the tub, pouring warm water over the crown of Jongin’s head. The dancer tilts his head back, eyes closed as Kyungsoo glides his hand over his wet locks once more, rinsing all the stray suds away. Tiny water droplets cling to his lashes, dripping away like tears when Jongin scrunches his brows and wipes a hand down his face.

“Done,” Kyungsoo says, setting the cup on the edge of the tub and resting his hands in his lap. His sleeves are a little damp; Jongin had been splashing him earlier, when the elder was in the middle of scrubbing shampoo into Jongin’s scalp.

Jongin turns, the water sloshing softly from the motion, and he raises a hand to the collar of Kyungsoo’s polo. “Join me?” Water from his fingers soak into the fabric as he pops the top button open with ease, a slow movement that comes naturally. He's had practice - loosening Kyungsoo’s buttons. He's done it many times before, but it still makes Kyungsoo feel just a breathless as it did the first time.

Jongin’s gaze doesn't hold seduction, however. It's soft with askance, imploring, and his rosy lips are set in the slightest of pouts.

“I'll return the favor,” the younger offered, his lips turning up into a small, cheeky smile. “It won’t take long, since you're pretty much bald.”

Kyungsoo scoffed a little, but went on to loosen the rest of his buttons, anyway. “I’m not bald.” He stood from where he was knelt next to the tub, tugging his shirt up over his head.

Jongin openly watched him, some suds floating around the bathwater as his eyes danced over Kyungsoo’s bare skin. The older unceremoniously dropped his sweatpants and underwear in one go, stepping out of them and kicking them off to the side with Jongin’s pile of clothes.

Jongin shuffled to one side of the tub, giving enough space for Kyungsoo to sit between his legs. It'd be a bit of a tight squeeze, but the tub was big enough for it to not be uncomfortable. He raised a hand, knuckles lightly brushing just above Kyungsoo’s knee as the other stepped into the tub facing Jongin. He braced the sides of the tub, carefully lowering himself into the water.

Jongin moved his legs, crossing them close to himself as Kyungsoo got situated similarly. Once he was settled, Jongin rose up slightly, inviting himself into the elder’s lap, thighs sandwiched between the hard ceramic of the tub and Kyungsoo’s warm sides.

Kyungsoo’s hands naturally came up to Jongin’s waist, splaying out over his ribs as the younger rubbed his hands all over his buzzed hair.

“I like how it feels,” Jongin mumbled, elbows propped on Kyungsoo’s shoulders as his fingers danced in little circles around the other's head, “so soft and fuzzy.”

Kyungsoo smiled privately, leaning his nose into Jongin’s collarbone as his hands traced the dimples at the base of the Jongin’s lower back.

It was amazing, really, how they'd come to be this close over the years. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Kyungsoo remembered being very closed off during his trainee days. He never really got close to anyone because many misunderstood him. His astigmatism hadn't really helped much, either. He was distant, and quiet. Never played around, never outwardly showed affection to the friends he did make. Most others found him odd.

Jongin was different. At their first meeting, Kyungsoo kept bumping into him during choreo run-throughs, and instead of getting angry or annoyed with him, the dancer insisted on staying after hours to help give him a few pointers. “You have a lot of dancing potential,” the dancer said, “you just need to learn how to move your body right.”

Jongin ended up teaching him one of his personal choreographies for their first group teaser, and Kyungsoo remembered getting vehemently scolded when a staff member caught him practicing it instead of their main track choreo.

They grew closer after that; they started spending more time together, frequently visited the bubble tea shop just down the road from the SM building.

Kyungsoo never considered himself to be a very touchy-feely-type person, never participated in too much skinship. It wasn’t that he didn't like it - no, not at all - rather he was just fairly reserved when it came to affection. He didn't initiate often. You could come cuddle or hug him, and he'd reciprocate for a moment or two, but no one really ever expected him to make the first move.

Kyungsoo was just a bit anxious when it came to touching others. What if they don't like being touched? What if he came off the wrong way? What if he made someone uncomfortable by touching them when they didn't want to be touched? It was easier to just let them decide. Kyungsoo loved skinship, loved the comfort or reassurance a small touch could give - he just wasn’t one to initiate it much.

There were other ways to show affection, to offer comfort and reassurance. Other ways to show concern or worry, more than just touching. Kyungsoo thought this was a pretty obvious thing. A casual thing.

That's why he was always helping Jongin, in small ways, when he ended up injuring himself. Small, subtle ways. He always took it upon himself to carry Jongin’s chair across the stage so the dancer would have quick access to a seat. Sure, the staff could do it, but Kyungsoo liked doing it. He set Jongin’s crutches aside when the other didn't need them, and was the first to go and get them when he did. He held Jongin’s elbow when he wobbled slightly because of his ankle brace - always a brief, fleeting touch. Never too invasive. Just enough so Jongin could regain his balance.

He cared a lot for Jongin. He worried, subconsciously, when Jongin was feeling down on himself. He never wanted Jongin to feel sad. He wanted Jongin to smile a lot because Jongin’s smile was beautiful. He should always be smiling - that big, beautifully breathtaking smile of his.

He liked Jongin. He knew he liked Jongin. And it was because of this like that Kyungsoo was even more self-conscious of touching him. He didn't want Jongin to think of him as weird, didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

Jongin, on the other hand, was very touchy-feely. Kyungsoo, even now, didn't know if those touches ever meant something back then, but they always had him feeling . His feelings grew with each subtle hand grab, every gentle caress of his neck, every time Jongin laid too close to him in their shared bed and pulled Kyungsoo’s arm around his waist.

It was Jongin who made the first real move; he was the first one who leaned in and kissed the hazy smile off of Kyungsoo’s face. Jongin was the first to taste Kyungsoo’s tongue, bite his lip and draw him closer. Kyungsoo’s hands were the first to get adventurous, the first to hesitantly undo buttons, slide down zippers. Jongin’s were the first moans he found addicting - those sweet, quiet sounds - he could listen to them for hours.

Jongin leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, bringing him out of his thoughts, and Kyungsoo found it nothing but ironic how the younger had rejected any concept of romantic feelings.

“I don't want anything serious right now,” Jongin had told him. “We were just having some fun, right?” it was the next morning. He was sprawled in their bed with his hair mussed and a hickey on his throat - a hickey Kyungsoo had left in a frenzy of passion, “We can be casual, right?”

I think I’m falling for you, Jongin - is what Kyungsoo had really planned to say that morning, as the golden sun rays casted an angelic glow on Jongin’s skin. “Right. Yeah- casual.” He learned a lesson that morning: how truly easy it is to fake a smile.

“Are you going to wash my hair or just play with my head all day?” Kyungsoo asked in amusement, rubbing his thumb against the column of Jongin’s spine.

Said dancer snickered a little, then leaned in close to place another, elongated kiss to Kyungsoo’s prickly hairline. His hands cupped around his ears, thumbs tracing the structured cartilage with a feathery touch.

“It's growing out fast,” Jongin commented, dipping the cup into the bathwater. Kyungsoo's eyes fell closed as he poured it over his head. “You know what that means,” the dancer said, clicking his tongue. “You’re dirty-minded. .”

Kyungsoo lips flattened out, and he kept his eyes closed as Jongon reached for the shampoo bottle and popped the cap open. “It's your fault most of the time.”

Jongin squeezed a small dollop into his palm and set the bottle on the edge of the tub, then began massaging it into the elder’s scalp until it was nice and sudsy. “Most of the time, huh? Who are you thinking about the other times?”

No one, really. Kyungsoo hummed as he leaned forward, resting his mouth against the dip of Jongin’s collarbone, pressing a kiss there. “Does it make you jealous - me thinking of other people?”

“No,” Jongin said under his breath, and pushed his shoulders forward a bit, urging to Kyungsoo to sit up straight. “ Maybe ,” he mumbled a moment later, running his hands over Kyungsoo’s shampoo-covered head.

Jongin was pouring water over him before the other could make any comments, brushing his hand backwards to keep most of the suds out of his face.

It was at times like these that Kyungsoo really wondered what the meaning of casual was - just how far casual could stretch before the lines got blurry.

Where was the line at? The line between casual and romantic? Was it hidden in how many times their lips touched, how many hands were held, how close they sat in the car, all the soft touches here and there. Was there a limit to all this? Just how many times would he have to whisper Jongin’s name into the stars, with the sweetest of sighs, before things would stop being casual.

He could never guess where these lines were. Jongin was always moving them right when they were coming into focus.

Jongin’s phone chimed a familiar text tune from the counter, but it didn't stop Kyungsoo from leaning the bridge of his nose against Jongin’s chin. Jongin’s fingers were still carding leisurely over his buzzcut.

The phone chimed again, and Kyungsoo pressed a heavy kiss to the underside of the dancer’s jaw. Jongin’s arms draped loosely over his shoulders, around his neck, and he tilted his head up slightly, offering more of his neck to the gentle mouth lingering there.

Jung Soojung is texting him. Krystal.

His girlfriend? No. Jongin had told him they were friends the last time he asked; complicated. Kyungsoo wondered if they were the same kind of “complicated ” as he and Jongin were.

Had she already heard his small noises, felt his warm skin, combed her fingers through his hair? How many times could her name have fallen from Jongin’s lips? Would it be in the same soft, delicate whisper as Kyungsoo’s was?

Had she ever tasted Kyungsoo in his mouth? Had Kyungsoo ever tasted her on Jongin, but never noticed? It would be impossible to guess. Kyungsoo tried not to ponder it too often.

After all, he and Jongin were only casual. Casual wasn't anything deeper than that.

However, Jongin had been ignoring her texts the past few days - and Kyungsoo really shouldn't feel any sort of hope in that fact - but a small part of him did. A small, tentative bud of hope nestled itself inside his chest, and he couldn't keep it from blossoming out. It was tiny and weak, but still there, nonetheless.

“You're prickly,” Kyungsoo commented, pursing his lips against the faint stubble near Jongin’s chin.

“I know.” Jongin’s eyes were closed, brows faintly grooving as he hummed - whined, “I don't want to shave… I'm tired.”

“We’re filming tomorrow. The director will lose his head if you don't.”

Jongin’s chest deflated with a sigh as the vocalist spoke close to his ear, nose lightly nudging against his earlobe, “Can't you do it for me?”

“Shave for you?” Kyungsoo chuckled, pulling back a bit to get a view of the dancer’s face.

“Mmhm ,” Jongin nodded his head and  pouted his lips out. One of his hands returned to Kyungsoo’s head a moment later, rubbing in circles before absently playing with the cartilage of his ear.

Kyungsoo considered it for a moment before conceding, “alright, I guess” and ushered Jongin out of his lap. His legs were falling asleep under Jongin’s weight, anyway.

Once Jongin settles back into his nook of the tub, Kyungsoo shifted onto his knees and precariously reached over the counter, pulling Jongin’s razor out of it's plastic holder and grabbing the half empty bottle of shaving gel just beside it.

He nudged at Jongin’s legs, straightening them out so he could straddle his lap in the same manner Jongin just was in his.

“I'm scared I'll cut you by accident,” the vocalist confessed, settling atop the other’s outstretched thighs as he uncapped the shave gel. The water sloshed at their movements, up the edges of the tub.

“I trust you.” Jongin hands soothed along his sides, presenting his chin out with certainty. Kyungsoo thoroughly coated the gel over his fingers, then began spreading it along Jongin’s jaw, chin, cheeks, and neck. When he was done, he dunked his hands beneath the water, washing the excess away.

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the bridge of Jongin’s nose before he began guiding the razor along his cheek. He was careful with his swipes, slow and steady, using extra caution. Jongin was silent the entire time, tilting his head when Kyungsoo instructed him to and pulling his lips sideways when needed.

Kyungsoo washed the razor clean after every swipe, his fingertips ghosting over Jongin’s skin to test the smoothness each time. His lips connected to the dancer’s face every so often, gentle and fleeting pecks to his cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, nose, or chin. Wherever they happen to lay.

Jongin glowed under every kiss. With every little smooch, his eyes shimmered like trapped stars, and his lips tugged into small, shy smiles when Kyungsoo drew back and caught his gaze with a smile of his own.

“So pretty,” Kyungsoo said as he softly brushed over Jongin’s lower face, wet hands wiping away the small remnants of shave gel. Jongin’s razor was back in its holder on the counter.

“You too,” Jongin replied, arms wrapped around Kyungsoo’s waist, fingers prodding his soft sides.

“I think you're prettier.” The older combed Jongin’s pastel locks back, leaning in to rest his forehead against the younger’s, both sharing the sweetest of hidden smiles.

When they're dressed and in bed, wrapped in sheets and laying under the dull light of the moon, Kyungsoo kept pondering about how pretty Jongin was. He looked over at the boy beside him, curled on his side with a thick book in his hands. He wasn’t paying the other any mind - thoughts too enraptured in the delicate lines of a story printed in ink.

His lips were rosy like the sweetest wine, slightly glossed as his tongue peeked out to wet the chapped edges. His eyes were dark, almost black as night, but Kyungsoo knew better. He knew that when the sunlight caught the dancer’s eyes just right, they glowed a soft hazelnut brown.

Beautiful.

He shifted closer to Jongin, close enough that their heads nearly bumped and Kyungsoo’s legs overlapped Jongin’s knees. His eyes fluttered over the page the other was on as Jongin distractly rested his cheek atop Kyungsoo's head, welcoming the proximity without a beat of hesitance.

Kyungsoo read over a few of the sophisticated words before finding interest in Jongin’s hand. His digits wrapped around Jongin’s wrist, prying it away from the book to bring them close to his face. The younger resisted only a moment, just until he could rearrange his hold on the book to where he wouldn't drop it.

His fingers were warm against the vocalist’s lips, delicate and long, and it's moments like these that make Kyungsoo think he could be alright with just casual. As long as he had Jongin - what more could he ask for? He had the world in his hands.

Jongin’s hand closed around Kyungsoo’s, thumb lightly brushing along the elder’s own as he continued reading, unbothered and unperturbed.

I love you - these words, Kyungsoo felt then dangling at the edge of his lips. I love you, Jongin, he pressed another kiss to their fingers, firm and deliberate, like if he waited enough, these words would etch themselves into Jongin’s skin with all the weight and emotion they carried, and the dancer would just know.

I love you, Jongin.

I love you, I love you .

He snuggled closer to Jongin, nuzzling his shoulder as his eyes drifted closed, their hands entwined. This, this was all he could ask for.

Casual didn't feel quite as bad, as long as Jongin still smiled for him and laid beside him like this. As long as he still held his hand and kissed his skin. As long as he could undress Jongin and praise every inch of him with his lips, show him the care that he deserved, trace his love onto every curve of Jongin’s body - perhaps it was okay.

He didn't have all of Jongin, he knew this well, but if he tried hard enough, perhaps it was easy to imagine Jongin’s heart in his hands - soft and safe, and only his to take.