-Wild Love-

This is Jongin’s favorite spot. It’s also his favorite time of day. This place, his place, is a cluster of flat rocks that barely crest the sea of grass surrounding the city. He’s close enough to still see the little storefronts with their neon signs and their lazy cats lounging about on the still warm sidewalks like some al fresco cat spa, but he’s far enough that the sounds of the city no longer plague him. This spot, his spot, is the best spot, because he’s far away from the highway, from the rumble and sighs and squeaks and groans of the cars, and he’s far away from the people, the honking horns, the wailing sirens, the chug and screech of the trains…

    It’s quiet here. Crickets, the occasional soft hoot of an owl, the wind as it blows over the gently rolling hills. On some nights, he dances to the tune of a frog’s croaks, but mostly he dances to the catalog of songs in his mind. Sometimes he hums along, sometimes he sings it low under his breath, and sometimes the symphony is all in his head. No headphones, because he still wants to hear the silence, the wind, the crickets…

    Jongin hums along to Wild Love by James Bay, feeling the vibrations of a song that plays despite the silence. He closes his eyes, letting the song guide him as he turns, jumps, sweeps an arm through the warm summer air.

    “Let’s be reckless, unaffected, running out until we’re breathless,” a voice sings. “Let’s be hopeful, don’t get broken and stay caught up in the moment.”

    This voice that joins him, singing the lyrics in a sweet voice, is a voice so clear and warm that it makes Jongin feel buoyant and warm, sunlight blooming inside him. Jongin stops mid-spin and nearly stumbles off the rock, but, despite the risk of almost spraining his ankle, he finds the source of the voice. A guy, about his age, maybe younger. Dark hair, bright wide eyes behind thick glasses, and full lips. He’s stopped singing, staring right back at Jongin. So they stand there, staring, until the guy clears his throat.

    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the guy says softly.

    Jongin’s still entranced. The guy’s speaking voice is just as wonderful, soothing and gentle. Oh, and now he’s blushing, turning to leave.

    “Wait!” Jongin squeaks. “Sorry, you just caught me by surprise.”

    A sheepish giggle. “Sorry.”

    “No, it’s alright,” Jongin says with a grin.

    And then they lapse into awkward silence again. The guy looks down at his feet, ears still red.

    “You could’ve gotten hurt,” he says softly. “I wasn’t thinking, I’ll leave.”

    He turns again, taking a step towards the brilliant outline of the city, but something in Jongin tells him he should not let this guy go.

    “Stay, please,” Jongin blurts, stumbling down the rock to grab his hand. “You sing beautifully.”

    The guy pauses and adjusts his glasses, looking at Jongin’s face, then Jongin’s fingers on his wrist. A smile blooms on his lips. “Only if you dance for me.”

    “We have a deal,” Jongin says, his smile widening. “Wild Love? From the top?”

    The guy blushes. “Sure.”

    He hums first, the opening bars, then sings, “Don’t know what to say to you now, standing right in front of you.”

    Jongin stares at him (with what he’s sure is an incredibly goofy smile on his face); by the time the guy gets to “losing a little guard, let it down,” Jongin jolts into motion. He doesn’t close his eyes this time, partly so he doesn’t bump into the singer, but also because he wants to watch him sing. The singer’s eyes flutter to a close, thick brows creased as he sings. He taps out the beat with his foot and sways slightly, which Jongin finds absolutely adorable. He’s torn between wanting to watch the singer and wanting to dance, letting the singer’s sweet voice carry him into the summer wind. Jongin chooses to dance, blushing and almost stumbling when he realizes the singer’s eyes have fluttered open to watch him. He tries not to think about the weight of the singer’s wide eyes on him, focusing instead on where the song takes him, where it leads his feet, the bend of the knee and the extension of his arm. All too soon, the song ends, the singer’s clear voice ringing out in the night. Jongin dips into a bow, smiling when he straightens.

    “You dance beautifully,” the singer says.

    “And you sing beautifully,” Jongin says.

    They both giggle, both sounding more dorky than Jongin wants to admit. Then Jongin sits on the flat rock and pats the space beside him. The singer takes the hint and sits.

    “Do you come out here often?” he asks, then blushes.

    “Well, since you’re the one asking, yes, I do,” Jongin says with a chuckle.

    The singer snorts. “There’s a bunch of rocks over on the other side with a view of the beach. I thought that would be a nice spot but that’s where—”

    “Everyone goes to , yeah,” Jongin finishes, nose scrunched in disgust. “And the other bunch of rocks is too close to the highway, so you’re just chugging car exhaust and covering your ears every five seconds when a car passes by, and the other bunch of rocks is just a little too remote and it feels like—”

    “The grass is going to swallow you up,” the singer finishes. “Yeah, I know. I was… I wasn’t going to bother you, but then I realized you were humming a song I knew and…”

    “Well,” Jongin says with a smile, “I’d be happy to share my rock with you.”

    The singer’s eyes crinkle, a wide smile making apples of his cheeks. “That’s very sweet of you, thank you.” He clears his throat, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to sing, I didn’t bring water with me.”

    “Rookie mistake,” Jongin teases, reaching for his. “But I only brought the one with me.”

    “I think I’ll head back then,” the singer says.

    “Oh,” Jongin tries not to sound disappointed. “Will I be seeing you around?”

    A sweet smile. “Definitely.” He stands up and waves at Jongin. “Good night, tiny dancer.”

    Jongin guffaws, ears hot. “Good night, piano man.”

    The singer groans. “Anything but that.”

    “Sorry,” Jongin giggles.

    “Good night,” the singer says, walking off into the night.

-Dancing With A Stranger-

    Maybe last night was a fluke, just dumb luck. Maybe he misunderstood, or maybe he was assuming his mystery singer would come again simply because he wants him too. Maybe he didn’t mean the next night, but three weeks from now, when Jongin no longer remembered the fine details of his face (not that Jongin would ever forget a face like that, but his melodramatic thoughts get the better of him).

    He’s ready to give up, scrolling through the inventory of songs in his head, but the wind carries that same sweet voice to him.

    “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” the singer croons, “It’s pretty clear that I’m not over you.”

    Jongin turns around with a bright smile, hopping onto the rock and running a hand through his hair before he starts to dance. This song calls for sensuous dance, gentle body rolls and slow glissades that lead to compass turns, chest isolations and slow bridges. When the singer gets to, “ooh, baby, baby, I’m dancing with a stranger,” Jongin pauses.

    “Dance with me,” Jongin says, holding out his hand.

    A strangled squeak. “Absolutely not!”

    “It’s only fair, if you’re singing a song called dancing with a stranger, that you dance with a stranger,” Jongin teases.

    “The agreement was I sing you dance,” the guy huffs. “And my name is Kyungsoo. There, now we’re not strangers.”

    “I don’t think that’s how that works,” Jongin murmurs. Then he realizes the singer— no, Kyungsoo, is still looking at him. “Oh, I’m Jongin.”

    “Well, Jongin, I don’t dance,” he says.

    “And if they don’t dance, well, they’re no friends of mine,” Jongin sings, wiggling to the beat.

    “I really did not think you would be this corny,” Kyungsoo groans.

    Jongin gasps, hands clasped to his chest. “Corny?” he whines.

    “Yes,” Kyungsoo sniffs, looking at Jongin out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, we had a deal.”

    Jongin sits on the rock with a melodramatic sigh, fluttering his eyelashes at Kyungsoo. “I suppose we did.”

    Kyungsoo smiles, sitting down right beside him. “I expect you to be a man of your word.”

    Jongin snorts, but when he notices Kyungsoo’s scathing look it turns into a sheepish laugh. “Okay, I pinky promise.”

    “And then you act shocked when I say you’re corny,” Kyungsoo grumbles, hooking his pinky with Jongin’s.

    Jongin pouts at him, snatching his pinky back. Kyungsoo smiles, but they settle into an amicable silence, listening to the gentle wind.

    “Why do you come out here?” Kyungsoo finally asks.

    Jongin thinks about it for a bit. Not because he needs to, but because he’s trying to recover some of his pride; he knows he’s corny but it’s not quite the same to hear it from a really cute singer. So he goes for a little nonchalance, a little pensiveness, before he answers.

    “The city is too loud,” he finally says. “I get a lot of headaches from all the noise, and we live near the metro so it’s not exactly peaceful. And it’s worse because I can hear all of it. I can hear a pin drop down the hall. I can hear your heartbeat.”

    Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. “Are you like a vampire or something?”

    Jongin snorts. “Yes, and I’m on the prowl for a al midnight snack.” He bares his teeth for good measure and hisses, wincing when Kyungsoo smacks his arm.

    “So you come out here for the silence,” Kyungsoo says. “And I ruined it, coming here and singing while you danced.”
    “What? No!” Jongin squeaks. “Your singing is exactly what this place was missing. Your voice is perfect.”

    A flush creeps up Kyungsoo’s neck. “Now you’re lying,” he murmurs.

    “I’m not!” Jongin huffs. “Your voice — gosh, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s sweet and thick and clear but also somehow light and warm. I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?”

    Kyungsoo tries to hide his shy smile, but Jongin sees it, and somehow, that little gesture makes Jongin’s heart all gooey. Uh oh. He should not be falling for a boy this fast.

    “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t disrupting you,” Kyungsoo says softly. Then, after a pause, “Do you want me to keep singing?”

    Jongin grins. “Sing for me.”

-Medicine-

    They come here every night. Sometimes Kyungsoo only sings one song, then they settle onto the rock and talk about everything and nothing. On other nights, Kyungsoo sings for him until the sky turns gray with the coming sunrise. They walk back to the city in silence, and after many agonizing nights, Jongin finally builds up the confidence to twine his fingers with Kyungsoo’s.

    Jongin almost always arrives first. He doesn’t mind, though. He does his warm ups in the summer silence until his body radiates more heat than the now sluggish wind. By the time Kyungsoo arrives, he’s ready to dance; sometimes he already has a song in mind, humming the chorus under his breath; Kyungsoo always picks up on it and starts to sing. Sometimes, though, like tonight, he lets Kyungsoo decide.

    So it comes as a surprise when Kyungsoo taps out a song with a quick beat, smiling before he sings, “Hot or cold or high or sober, fever dream that’s never over.”

    It feels like a shift. Like the stolen glances and little shy smiles and subtle small touches have led to this. They’re flirting now, or at least Jongin thinks (hopes) so. Jongin is not going to pass up an opportunity to woo Kyungsoo with dance, so he goes with the flow, suggestive and cute as he moves his hips. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop, even though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

    Jongin shimmies each the end of each phrase, throwing a flirty look over his shoulder. Kyungsoo stumbles over his words, trying to sing through his giggling. Jongin hides his own smile, swinging his hips as he cha-chas a circle around the singer.

    “Twist and turn and tongue tie, tie, tied, Keep me up no I don’t mind, mind,” Kyungsoo sings, 

    “Give me medicine twice a day,” Jongin sings, joining him, “Oh, I love how it tastes, tastes, tastes.”

    Kyungsoo’s cheeks flush; he kicks a foot out in Jongin’s direction, aimless and half-hearted just like the frown on his face.

    “I’m supposed to sing,” Kyungsoo huffs. “If you start singing then you’ll make me start dancing, and that’s not how this works.”

    “Oh, that’s an idea,” Jongin gasps, giggling as he jumps back to miss Kyungsoo’s wild punch. “Ack! Alright, I won’t sing anymore, I promise.”

    With Kyungsoo mollified,  Jongin finally flops onto the rock (well, as best he can without the rock hurting his too much) and throws his head back with a sigh. Kyungsoo offers him a water bottle, which he chugs half of before he caps it again.

    “It’s hotter tonight,” Kyungsoo says with a chuckle, plucking his shirt away from his chest.

    “Ugh, I know,” Jongin groans, spreading his legs and kicking his heels against the ground.

    “Is that where you’re hot?” Kyungsoo asks, giggling.

    Jongin’s ears flush with heat. “Th-that’s not what I meant!” He guffaws, tugging on his ear when Kyungsoo laughs. “There are plenty of other areas where I’m hot. Like, all of me.”

    “You don’t have to brag,” Kyungsoo huffs, blushing as he smiles.

    Jongin bites his lip, shimmying closer to Kyungsoo. “So you agree?” he asks, bumping his shoulder against Kyungsoo’s.

    The singer shoots him a bewildered look, almost balking when he notices how close Jongin is. Close enough for a kiss, for Jongin to reach out and cup Kyungsoo’s cheek, for Jongin to see the curious twinkle in Kyungsoo’s eyes behind his glasses. But, just like that, the bubble bursts. They both shuffle apart, flushed and shy and nervous.

    “It’s getting late, no?” Kyungsoo finally says, clearing his throat.

    “Ah, yeah,” Jongin says, looking up at the sky, which still looks like same velvety blue as when they arrived. But, Kyungsoo’s implicit suggestion that they go home isn’t the worst idea. Jongin is actually starting to feel sticky, sweat stubbornly clinging to his skin. “Things are a little too hot.”

    Kyungsoo gives him a cryptic look, his lips before he looks away again. “Yeah, I think so.”

    So they start their leisurely walk back to the city, except Jongin finds himself looking at Kyungsoo more than usual, and finds Kyungsoo looking at him more than usual too. For the first time since that first night, their goodbye is awkward.

-Watermelon Sugar-

    Usually, Kyungsoo just brings water, but tonight he has a sweet snack.

    “Strawberries,” he says brightly, unwrapping the tupperware and setting it on the rock.

    “Those are my favorite,” Jongin squeals, throwing himself next to the singer and biting his lip as Kyungsoo pops off the top. The berries gleam in the moonlight, cut in half and pruned of their leaves. Jongin takes one and slides it into his mouth, as he bites into it. “Ugh, no fruit can top this.”

    Kyungsoo snorts, nibbling on his own half. Mostly he watches Jongin, who eats half the strawberries before he pauses.

    “Oops,” Jongin says, smiling sheepishly.

    “That’s what I brought them for,” Kyungsoo says with a smile. “Appetite is good.”

    Jongin beams at him and takes a strawberry half. But, instead of eating it, he presses it to Kyungsoo’s lips. The singer’s eyes widen, but he parts his lips to let Jongin feed him. His tongue brushes against Jongin’s thumb, both of them blushing. Jongin drags his thumb across Kyungsoo’s lip, drying the leftover droplets from the fruit, then his thumb clean. Kyungsoo swallows hard, eyes focused on Jongin’s lips. He leans forward, in his breath, then leans back again. Jongin tries not to be too disappointed. The tension from the night before had dissipated, but now it’s back, sitting between them as thick as fruit jam. He can’t let another night end like this.

    “So,” Jongin finally says, “what’s the song for the night?”

    Kyungsoo smiles, then devolves into giggles.

    “Tastes like strawberries,” Kyungsoo sings, “on a summer evening.”

    “Oh, come on,” Jongin groans.

    “It’s the perfect choice,” Kyungsoo says, still giggling.

    Jongin rolls his eyes but smiles, gesturing for Kyungsoo to sing. Kyungsoo complies (well, after taking a deep breath to calm his giggles).

    Kyungsoo’s voice guides his steps, but he finds it hard to focus tonight. He keeps thinking of the bright red of the berry slipping past Kyungsoo’s full lips, of the feeling of Kyungsoo’s tongue on his thumb, the heavy look in the singer’s eyes. He just wants to taste it. And by it he means everything, every part of Kyungsoo, each beauty mark and soft spot, until Kyungsoo’s a mess under him.

    Jongin lets the last note fade from his mind, breath heavy. His eyes are closed, letting the warm late summer air wash over him. But he flutters his eyes open when he hears Kyungsoo shift and slide off the rock. The singer steps close, hesitant as he reaches out to drag his fingertips up Jongin’s jawline. He tilts his head up, close enough for their noses to touch; Jongin lets his hands find their way to the small of Kyungsoo’s back, fingertips toying with the edge of Kyungsoo’s shirt. Then it’s Kyungsoo’s soft lips on his, hesitant, shy, but warm and sweet. Jongin kisses him back, content with the soft sweetness. But that contentedness doesn’t last long, not when the lyrics are still fresh in his mind. He dips his tongue into Kyungsoo’s mouth, brow furrowing in pleasure at Kyungsoo’s surprised little moan; Jongin pulls away, but Kyungsoo chases him, teeth catching on Jongin’s bottom lip. Jongin, naturally, is not going to deny Kyungsoo another kiss, so he presses close until their bodies are flush together, on Kyungoo’s top lip before he slips his tongue past Kyungsoo’s lips again.

    They kiss until they need to breathe. Jongin doesn’t want it to end, not the kiss, the softness of Kyungsoo’s lips against his, the gentle whimpered moans, Kyungsoo’s fingers tangled in his hair, but they have to because lungs, damn it. Kyungsoo guides them back onto the rock and sits, pressing his forehead against Jongin’s for a moment; then he starts to caress Jongin’s cheek with his thumb, which makes Jongin a complete gooey mess.

    They drink each other, pressing the occasional soft kiss on each other’s lips (Jongin takes the liberty of smooching Kyungsoo’s nose and neck, because it feels criminal to ignore them), until they’re both glowing, giggling, nuzzling each other.

    “Is this—?” Kyungsoo starts. “Do you want to be—” He swallows hard, tracing Jongin’s jawline with his fingertips again.

    “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend,” Jongin whispers.

    Kyungsoo smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, cheeks round and bright. “Good,” he says. “I don’t know if I could ever go without,” he sings softly, giggling when Jongin snorts.

    “For the record,” Jongin murmurs, “I’m incredibly happy you decided to disturb my peace that night.”

    Kyungsoo’s jaw drops. “You said I wasn’t disturbing you!”

    Jongin snickers, pressing a wet kiss to Kyungsoo’s neck before the singer can pinch him. “You weren’t.” He waits for Kyungsoo to stop squirming, then grins. “Let our hearts be the only sound,” he sings softly, “I wanna go where the lights burn low and you’re only mine.”

    “I wanna give you wild love.”