It’s a typical night, a casual Saturday with no plans of returning outside anytime soon. Saturday was their night in. Saturday was filled with a homecooked meal, late night popcorn and beer, and catching up on the latest season of their cop-drama. Jongdae opens two beers for each, knowing that Kyungsoo will finish one before the intro to the show starts. Glass clinks on the coffee table and buttery kernels are fluffed to perfection via Kyungsoo’s microwave prowess.

As soon as Kyungsoo plops the popcorn onto the coffee table, Jongdae scrambles for it as if he’s been starved. Jongdae pops five pieces at once in his mouth and Kyungsoo is on careful watch in case the other inevitably chokes. Jongdae just beams.

“2 minutes and 43 seconds, huh? You must really love me.”

Jongdae does what he does best – chewing and complimenting.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says between the first and second beer, fighting the urge to swoon. “Something like that.”

They’re both sprawled out on the couch with their attention directed at the screen across from them. Jongdae is unintentionally inhaling the popcorn while Kyungsoo automatically makes it past his second beer. Jongdae pops the top off of another beer and Kyungsoo grabs it. He threads his fingers through Jongdae’s hair, scratching idly at his scalp. Jongdae purrs in response.

Two hours into it, Kyungsoo can feel his eyes getting heavy already. He’s been working all day on a work project during his off-hours (which Jongdae despises), but all in the interest of actually spending his vacation days as a real getaway coming rather soon. They’ve already planned out a trip with their mutual friends to Japan. It will be the first time that both Kyungsoo and Jongdae will be going back to the country since meeting each other. They met in unexpected circumstances – Kyungsoo as a young intern at a company trip and Jongdae as an international student looking to make a quick buck. One order of shrimp tempura and a pleasantly buzzed delivery driver in his empty hotel room, Kyungsoo was head over heels (Jongdae would argue that he fell for Kyungsoo first).

Jongdae’s head is nuzzled into his shoulder now, the edges of his hair tickling Kyungsoo’s chin. Kyungsoo shifts his arm that’s wedged underneath them, stirring Jongdae awake. The other groans at the sudden shift, but then relaxes comfortably when Kyungsoo’s arm drapes along Jongdae’s shoulders. The classic flirtatious touch makes the veteran couple not even bat an eye – it’s not even anymore. Jongdae nuzzles in further and stretches a hand across Kyungsoo’s stomach. His fingers idly tap at the cotton shirt. Kyungsoo hums in satisfaction. He loves Saturday nights. It’s just between them and it’s perfect.

 

 

“Babe?” Jongdae calls from underneath him, tickling his jawline with a gentle kiss. Kyungsoo groggily blinks his eyes open and stretches. Jongdae sits up, wired suddenly. His eyes are bright and awfully playful for a 10:30 movie night. Kyungsoo barely sits up, and Jongdae is already huffing. “I already know what your thinking – you can quit it with the look.”

Kyungsoo is unphased. “What look?”

“The look,” Jongdae says very cheerily, his grin growing two times as he maps out Kyungsoo’s eyebrows with his fingers. “With those luscious eyebrows all raised with suspicion.”

Jongdae practically climbs in his lap, hands cupping each side of Kyungsoo’s face as thumbs trace the brow bone. It’s one of Jongdae’s odder qualities, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind the touch in all honesty. He sighs, relaxing into the massage. His hands circle around the others waist, resting. Kyungsoo melts in the warmth, eyes closing slowly as Jongdae presses gently into his skin. He revels in a warm glow and moans in the bliss.

“Hey, wait –“ There’s a whine, shrilly and unmatchable. Kyungsoo is weakly chuckling with a familiar rumble catching him in his ribs. On his lap sits a pouty Jongdae with upturned eyebrows. “I want to play something before we go to bed.”

“Go to bed? What are we, geriatrics?” Kyungsoo muses playfully, tapping something into Jongdae’s hips. Jongdae hands worm around Kyungsoo’s neck, brushing the hair at his nape.

Jongdae sticks his tongue out playfully, “Oh yeah. You fell asleep again, grandpa.”

“Just resting my eyes, dear,” Kyungsoo cracks a gravely elder voice, making Jongdae bounce with laughter.

“That voice is somebody’s kink,” Jongdae manages to get past a wheeze, and Kyungsoo flushes with some embarrassment at the thought.

“Does it turn you on?” Kyungsoo presses, biting at Jongdae’s tease comfortably. He leans in and pulls Jongdae by his hips even closer, and the other squirms. Kyungsoo squints like his elders without their glasses and grimaces. He starts to kiss up Jongdae’s neck and the other gasps at each gentle press. Kyungsoo grins against his skin, whispering in that gravely tone. “Oh, Jongdae, dear.”

He kisses on Jongdae’s jawline and presses up to his ear. “Won’t you help me get onto the Internet? The machine is acting up again – it’s definitely got a virus. Back in my day –“

“Jesus.” Jongdae pulls away, exasperated but still laughing. “I caught you in a good mood.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Kyungsoo looks up to the perfect devil sitting in his lap, a fiendish smirk curled into his cheek as he stares back excitedly. “What do you want to play?”

“Hold on –“

The other suddenly says as he bounces off and rushes out of their living room, running past to the back of the apartment at lightning speed. Kyungsoo chuckles, shaking his head at the randomness of the situation. They’re not like this. They’re a quiet couple (excluding fun activities) who likes spending time together with things that are familiar. They both have separate jobs and separate friends with a spectrum of similar interests. They cook, some more proficient with a microwave than the skillet (ie Jongdae). They both beeline for the dog when they’re invited to a party. They’ve seriously discussed/fangirled about Star Trek: The Next Generation nonstop for a week until Baekhyun finally drawled out for the thousandth time: “Hey nerds, stop theorizing and start making out already!”

It really was a love that Kyungsoo happily melted into.

Kyungsoo’s ears perk at quick triumphant padding of feet. Suddenly, a black material item – cloth? – dangles in front of his face, plucked from Jongdae himself.

“How do you feel about this?” Jongdae sounds nervous suddenly.

“What is it exactly?” Kyungsoo reaches for it as Jongdae releases it. It’s soft, just a plain black mask of some sort. “Blindfold? I’m not opposed to it, but I am opposed to ing on the couch.”

“What is it with you and spotless living room furniture?” Jongdae squeaks tightly. “Not the point.” He sighs, turning back to his original seat on the couch. Jongdae smooths out the material in Kyungsoo’s hands and his lips. “It’s not for .”

He pauses, gauging the others reaction. Kyungsoo raises a brow. “Okay –“

“Maybe later, the possibilities are endless.” Another pause.

“Jongdae.”

“Okay, okay,” he resigns. “It’s a taste test game. I give you food, you guess it. And you’re blindfolded.”

Kyungsoo blinks, not really moved by the explanation. Jongdae sighs, automatically knowing Kyungsoo’s reservations for this type of play. Kyungsoo was never into unnecessary games – he thought of them as mild distractions. The food is a point in his boyfriends favor, and the blindfold is certainly intriguing (especially for whatever potentially may come afterwards).

“I don’t know, it was a cute thing I saw online,” Jongdae says quietly, fingers scratching the back of his neck. There’s a beet red blush trickling down his cheeks and into his neck with embarrassment. His eyebrows are cutely furrowed, concern wrapping around his curled lips. Everything about him is cute, and Kyungsoo can feel his heart race.

“Okay.”

Damn it. Damn Jongdae and damn his willpower.

The realization that blooms across Jongdae’s face – eyes wide and a smile that could kill – is all worth it. Kyungsoo still doesn’t understand Jongdae’s magic that cracks in Kyungsoo’s no-nonsense demeanor into a soft ball. If anyone had the balls to call him out on it, they would face a wrath unforeseen. It’s a miracle Baekhyun is still alive today.

Kyungsoo smiles back gently as Jongdae excitedly slides the blindfold over Kyungsoo’s eyes. It’s technically a sleeping mask so there’s a potentially great excuse if Kyungsoo ends up actually falling asleep.

“You’re not going give me something I hate, right?” Kyungsoo’s casts into the air, hoping Jongdae would be nearby to feel the threatening undertone. Jongdae kisses the top of his head, and the message is crystal clear.

“Of course not. I know you. Do you think I want my head on a stake?” Jongdae smooths his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair. “Plus side, no more neighbor complaints. Downside, no boyfriend.”

“They’d still find something to complain about,” Kyungsoo grumbles, and is rewarded with another kiss on the head.

“I’ll be right back.”

Sure enough, Kyungsoo is only sitting in complete darkness for a couple of minutes. He hears some rummaging in the kitchen, cupboards being opened and closed – which he knows that the neighbors next door will claim as “slamming”. It may be one of the reasons why Kyungsoo takes everything heated into the bedroom – even if he wants to throw Jongdae onto the counter top when he gets mouthy.

“I’m back,” Jongdae singsongs, the voice in front of Kyungsoo. There’s a couple of clinks of plastic against the glass of the coffee table, probably an assortment of bowls for their game. Kyungsoo adjusts himself, getting comfortable on the sofa. Socked feet are on the floor and his hands are clasped together in anticipation.

“Rules – I will place something at your lips and you will have to eat or drink this. You may get only one taste of the food and one guess at the food. Good?”

“Can I spit it out if I don’t like it?”

There’s a moment of pause before an expected sigh, as if the very expected innuendo retaliation wasn’t worth it. There’s a rustle of a plastic bag to Kyungsoo’s right. “I have a trash here just in case. Are you ready?”

Kyungsoo hums, and instantly feels something press against his lips. It’s a hard exterior with a rough texture. There’s a waft of saltiness under his nose that immediately is struck by his tongue as he parts his lips. Jongdae’s fingers leave the food as it’s secured between Kyungsoo’s teeth. It’s an odd shape in his mouth, something familiar and curvy. As he chews, there’s an instant recognition of flavor and texture.

“Almond,” he swallows with confidence. He can hear Jongdae’s grin stretch across his teeth and a chuckle in his throat.

“That was fast,” Jongdae says between a laugh, breathily. “Next one.”

Before the press of food at his lips, Kyungsoo can smell the scent of citrus. As he listens carefully, he can hear Jongdae peeling the rind of a fruit with a continual piercing citrus scent. Images of oranges, lemons, grapefruit enter his mind. Kyungsoo cooks a lot, more than Jongdae expected. Jongdae is a great tester, not too picky on food either. It would take a lot to stump the cuisine king.

Pressed against his lips is something cold and wet. The texture is smooth and the scent is sweet. It’s smaller than an orange piece. Kyungsoo mouths it, tongue pressing into it. The inside texture is pulpy and stringy, unlike a lemon.

“Hmm, it’s smaller than an orange, but it tastes like one.” Kyungsoo concentrates, mouth morphing. “Clementine?”

“You’re so good,” Jongdae praises warmly. “Now this one is a drink. I have a straw. Sip it slowly.”

Sure enough, there’s a bendy straw at his lips (Kyungsoo was half-expecting the silly hard plastic straw that Jongdae got at the fair). He sips slowly, it until an instantly recognizable liquid fills his mouth. It’s creamy, a dairy. The flavor settles in his mouth.

“Definitely milk.”

Jongdae playfully presses, “What kind?”

Kyungsoo washes his tongue on the back of his teeth and in his lips, hoping for any clue. But it should be obvious, staring at it every day he opens the fridge. “Well you don’t drink anything besides whole milk.”

“Because all other milk is just watered down,” Jongdae whines cutely, and Kyungsoo can only imagine the cute little pout on his lips. The other huffs. “Okay, yeah. That was too easy for you.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, “Milk snob.”

“Have some water to cleanse your palette, monsieur,” Jongdae deliberately goes breathy, training Kyungsoo’s ears to pick up the French-drop. The little foreign words always make Kyungsoo feel hot. Having a worldly traveled partner has its perks.

Jongdae places a water cup in Kyungsoo’s hands, and Kyungsoo mouths around for the straw. He sips it slowly, washing the tastes of salt, cream, and citrus out. In the background, he hears another slurping sound and grimaces.

“Are you drinking my milk?” Kyungsoo scrunches his nose.

“Yeah, so?” Jongdae must see Kyungsoo’s grimace since he starts to scoff. “Like I haven’t put my mouth in worse places.”

Kyungsoo feels a flush against his skin, embarrassed at the thought he unintentionally brought onto himself. He should know better. Jongdae always has an innuendo.

“This is a hard one. You can’t bite it, so I’ll let you it off your lips,” Jongdae instructs. Kyungsoo hears him lift off the sofa to come closer. One hand comes to cup his face while the other extends a finger to place the food against his lips. A thumb swipes across his plump bottom lip, slowly depositing a gritty substance across it. It’s definitely a pungent spice, according to his nose. He’s worked with this before. It’s full – a spice that goes well on its own. It’s definitely a peppery smell, smoky and rich.

Kyungsoo goes to the spice off his lips, unintentionally and mouthing around Jongdae’s lingering thumb. Kyungsoo doesn’t mind, the spice off the digit with gentle . Jongdae doesn’t make a move to leave, and the other hand cupping his face plays at his hairline.

“God you’re so hot,” Jongdae exclaims as he pulls back his thumb. He’s definitely hovering over him, probably straddling Kyungsoo’s thighs.

Kyungsoo looks up to the voice despite seeing nothing but black. He smiles knowingly, “It’s paprika. I didn’t even have to taste it.”

Jongdae accidentally(-maybe) pulls at Kyungsoo’s ear, making him wince. Jongdae climbs off of Kyungsoo in a haste. “Damn it.”

Kyungsoo laughs a little, “I’m sorry, Dae. I cook all the time. Come on, make it hard for me.”

“I’m trying!” Jongdae whines, frustrated. “Wait, did you just -?”

This time Kyungsoo does laugh hard, a rumble in his ribs that can’t quit. There’s a smile on his face that’s etched in, upturned and pulling at his cheeks. He curls into the sofa and laughs hard. In the background, Jongdae joins him in the fun, laughing too. It’s a quick little harmony. It starts out clashing with a goofy rumble and a piercing guffaw, and mellow to quick chuckles and silent laughs with bouncing shoulders. Kyungsoo feels his face and ribs hurt from the stretch of laughter, but it’s worth it. He needed the laugh.

“This last one you can’t bite,” Jongdae finally gets out with the died laughter. Kyungsoo is in good spirits now, alive from their belly laughing. He waits patiently for an aroma and a press of food, but nothing pierces him as different. There’s no touch, just a barely noticeable breath at his lips. Then there’s a familiar press of lips against his.

Jongdae continues to kiss, slanting his lips between Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo tilts his head in one direction and blindly searches for Jongdae to hold onto. He grabs some clothing, clutching it to guide the other closer. Jongdae complies, tilting his head the other way to connect further. Kyungsoo has barely any time to catch his breath in between as Jongdae gently guides the others mouth open with little swipes of his tongue. He playfully presses short kisses in between long ones, leaving a secret Morse code message for Kyungsoo. His tongue meets Kyungsoo’s with a sharp inhale through his nose. Jongdae’s hands are in Kyungsoo’s hair, tugging gently as they continue. Kyungsoo’s hands are occupying Jongdae’s clothing, but he blindly is grabbing anything to hold.

This is lovely. Kyungsoo revels in the warmth and the gentle slide of their tongues, neither one dominating or controlling. It’s a relaxed setting, safe and homely. There’s no need for a rush or for some spice. All they need is just a moment together.

Jongdae draws away gently, kissing Kyungsoo smack on the lips before leaving the tingling sensation on Kyungsoo’s lips. Kyungsoo’s head is now rested on the top of the sofa, head leaned back so much that Jongdae has to be on top of him. Jongdae’s hands down to Kyungsoo’s shoulders and settle there. There’s breaths and heat between them.

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo answers a little swept away for a moment. He’s confident with his choice. Jongdae his hands down from Kyungsoo’s shoulders and momentarily rest at his chest.

“And what am I to you?” His voice sounds a little pretentious, asking the question so broadly.

Kyungsoo chuckles, his smile still playful from the laughter, “A pain in my .”

There’s a tweak of pain right at his left as Jongdae squeezes it successfully through his shirt. Kyungsoo cries out from the unexpected touch. Again, there’s nothing but breaths between them, and Kyungsoo can’t find much more to do.

“Can I have another taste to confirm?” he asks with little stretch a smile. Sure enough, there’s lips on his, and they’re back to soft smooches. A couple are so faint, barely scraping the surface, only a dusting of a kiss. It’s leaves Kyungsoo wanting so much more. He crawls for more, inching closer and closer until Jongdae leaves him winded with one kiss without air. Jongdae leans back before Kyungsoo can snatch another taste, leaving Kyungsoo with his answer.

Kyungsoo grins happily, dizzy even. His head spins slightly, a little air deprived and an overdose on kisses. He says dreamily, “My boyfriend.”

There’s a shaky breath, and some laughter, “Looks like I’ve stumped you.”

Kyungsoo’s dreamy smile suddenly turns sour, and his ethereal glow from the laughter and make out has died down. Kyungsoo feels the wrinkles starting to form on his forehead, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His gut stirs nervously. Something doesn’t feel right.

“You can take the blind fold off now.”

Kyungsoo reaches for it, sliding it off his eyes. The light from the lamps make Kyungsoo squint uncomfortably for a second before adjusting. The room isn’t much different. The television is paused, the coffee table is full of food – including new additions from Jongdae.

Everything is the same, except for Jongdae who has a hesitant smile and is kneeling on the floor. He is steadying his breath and his eyes are shining something brilliant like they always are, and he’s kneeling on the carpet on their apartment. His smile widens as he shifts something in his pocket, and he’s kneeling on the floor they ed on to christen the apartment.

There’s a little black box in his hands.

And he’s kneeling on the mother ing floor –

“Kyungsoo, will you make me the happiest man –“

“What the .”

As so eloquently put by Do Kyungsoo, what the indeed. As he watches Jongdae’s face crumple, he realizes his mistake and the actions he’s currently expressing as shock. He immediately covers his mouth, which was hung open unbeknownst to him. His eyes are wide, taking in everything he’s missed with numbness.

Jongdae lets out a shaky breath between pursed lips before continuing again. With courage and conviction, he proposes, “Kyungsoo, will you make me the happiest man alive?”

“Yes. Yes, times a thousand. Yes,” Kyungsoo grins beautifully. He gestures for Jongdae to join him, and the other happily jumps up into Kyungsoo’s arms. Jongdae snuggles in and revels in all the tender kisses Kyungsoo places. Kyungsoo whispers appraisals in Jongdae’s ear, and the other just warmly embraces him.

“I didn’t think you’d be this worked up about it,” Jongdae gently chuckles. He runs his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, and Kyungsoo feels at ease.

“I wasn’t expecting it at all. I always thought I’d be the one to propose,” he admits with a little laughter and embarrassment. He eyes the black box. “Can I see it?”

Jongdae grins, eyes turned upward and his smile into his cheeks. Kyungsoo’s heart flutters, even though he’s seen this radiant smile so many times before. Somehow knowing he’ll see it for the rest of his life makes it all the more enjoyable.

 

 

 

Late at night when the newly engaged couple are laying in bed, Kyungsoo blinks his eyes awake. Outstretched in front of him, he flashes his hands. It’s now adorned with a silver band, glinting in the dark.

Jongdae comes back from the bathroom and slips into bed, curling up to Kyungsoo. He links his hand with Kyungsoo’s ring hand and gently kisses him. This beautiful gem of a person, the man that proposed to him after a blindfolded game, is his fiancé. What a world to live in.

Jongdae grins against Kyungsoo’s lips. He must be thinking the same thing.

 

 

 

 

First person to know through snooping was, of course, Baekhyun.

“What if he made you taste the ring? Oh my God, do you know how ing funny that would have been if you swallowed the ring? Holy !”