The drawling whine from the television as it played some cheap hardly-legal-for-tv film barely brushed his shoulders as he reached for another shirt. A pile of laundry fresh from the dryer sat atop Kyung’s bed, waiting to be carefully folded with precision only one of them had. Giving a slight bounce on his heels he began humming as the soft linen warmed his fingertips, sliding over the pads, leaving vanilla lavender kisses with each perfected flick of the wrist. If Jiho had been the one in charge of something that needed this much care he’d probably haphazardly toss the clothes into two piles; his and his.

Holding up the others sweater Kyung smiled softly and pulled it close, inhaling. The scent of clean clothes soothed his nerves and sometimes, if he was lucky, Jiho wouldn’t be washed from the sleeves. Once it was folded to his liking he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, reaching for a pair of grey jeans. Something pushed his senses over until they spilled from the cup as he held them up, inspecting them. A few purposely placed rips and a bulging pocket faced the frown he’d put on, and, God, please let it not be a cell phone. He set the pair out onto the bed and ran his fingers over the rectangle shape, pushing down on it lightly out of instict, taking in a sharp breath when it bent under his fingtertips.

That bastard. The whine from the TV felt loud against his back as he reached into the pocket and pulled out the carton of ciggarettes, faded from having gone through a heavy wash cycle. Kyung swallowed hard and pushed up his glasses, mumbling an apology to the clothes left behind as he stormed into the living room and threw the small package at their owner. “You were supposed to have stopped this.” Jiho looked down at whatever had just landed in his lap, a flicker of ‘oh-’ passing over his features before he let out a grin and turned.

“I did, that’s why it isn’t open.” Kyung crossed his arms as a tick worked in his jaw. Like hell would he believe such a half-assed excuse. Jiho stood, holding the worn package up between his thumb and index fingers, waving it to make sure it was where the accusers attention was. “It’s really not open. Didn’t you check? I told you I’d stop and I did.” He tossed the object onto the coffee table and moved to stand closer, pouting and setting his hands on Kyung’s forearms.

“If we want to have kids someday I’ll need to think of the baby’s safety. Right, Honey?” Thin hands shot out swiftly as the shorter one shoved him back angrily, “I told you not to make those kinds of jokes when we’re alone! It’s ing weird!” Jiho’s grin faded almost as quickly as he’d been re-positioned. The effects tabacco would have on his lungs couldn’t touch the destruction the look Kyung was burying into his heart would have. There wasn’t any mercy in that gaze. He was set to kill. “The , man. I have to have an audience to flirt with you?” The older one seethed, “You’d better enjoy that I’m even your friend, Woo Ji Ho. Throw the ing ciggarettes away and if you’re going to keep smoking keep it out of my laundry. You’re horrible at hiding things, you always have been.” Gritting his teeth he turned away from the source of the heated warmth in his chest as he’d allowed himself to get worked up. The clothes were probably cold by now and he wouldn’t be surprised if half of them smelled like filth after having been exposed to such toxins.

Jiho huffed and reached out to grab the back of his t-shirt, tugging him around. “Hey.” Kyung swung an arm out against the one holding onto him, glaring. “What?” For a moment the younger one kept quiet and focused his attention back onto the television they’d both drowned out while aruging. Fed up, Kyung went to turn back but halted when an apology pushed its way through Jiho’s lips. “I’m sorry.” There was a pause between the words and eye contact wasn’t regained as they were let into the empty air. Kyung wasn’t buying it. “I don’t want your ing apology. Go smoke it away and don’t bother coming back.” He didn’t mean that. Of course he didn’t mean that but the acid on his tounge felt differently about the situation than his heart did. The flare that shot through the others eyes was unmistakable and primal, just as the growl that roamed through his throat was as he shoved Kyung against the wall, rattling the few framed pictures held there.

The older one let out a soft whine as his head collided with the dry wall, squinting at his attacker. “Say it again,” Jiho dared, “I didn’t quite hear you.” Kyung turned his head away and kept silent. “Don’t bother coming back?” Sliding his hands down the others sides Jiho pressed closer until he could feel the anger soaking through Kyung’s aura. The atmosphere in the room had gotten unbearably heavy and the television had finally parted to commercials as if it didn’t want to miss this either. Pushing his palms against Jiho’s chest Kyung met his gaze and spoke lowly, “Get away from me.” His stomach had dipped far beyond its comfort level and he was ready to fight. Like hell would he be walked over just because he was deemed ‘smaller’. Regardless of how tough he felt reality reminded him that he was just as small as he appeared as Jiho scoffed and overcame his feeble strength, pushing closer still and placing a searing kiss to the elders neck, “Say it again.”

He wouldn’t be so tall bent over, would he? Letting out an aggravated groan Kyung brought his knee up with as much force as he could in an attempt to sink the other. Jiho gasped, losing his breath momentarily and taking this opportunity Kyung made a move to escape. A hand s after his and wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back with such force that he could feel the blood rushing against his skin in a heated frenzy. Slammed into the wall again he wasn’t allowed time to be stubborn as Jiho pressed his cracked lips against the elders unsuspecting ones, previously free hand moving to grasp Kyung’s other wrist, lifting them above his head against the wall. Quickly turning his face away again Kyung nearly heaved, “What the , Jiho? Cut it out.” The younger one lifted his eyebrows and turned his own head, stealing another kiss before dropping a hand to block a second attack at his balls. Distraction in place Kyung pushed his free palm against the others cheek, hoping to snap his stupid neck if he could push hard enough. He didn’t get as much strength in as he’d have liked before Jiho let go of his other hand as well, sliding his own under the elders thighs and lifting him up.

Without thought, maybe from fear of falling, Kyung unconciously obliged and eased into the others hold, now using both hands to push his face away. “Put me down! I’ll gouge your ing eyes out, don’t you test me!” Jiho laughed and nipped at one of Kyung’s thumbs, moving to his index finger after he’d pulled it away in disgust. “Kyungie, let go.” As easily as sugar cubes disintegrate into coffee Kyung slipped his strength away, leaving only his palms to cup the others warm cheeks. “I hate you.” Jiho smiled as if he’d won a title fight in a boxing match and this time with the slow precision Kyung used while tending to the laundry he placed another kiss against newly willing lips, this one both welcomed and reciprocated. Stubborness wouldn’t be killed off so easily though and it wasn’t long after that that the older one moved his hands to cover Jiho’s eyes, “You taste like cancer.”

Jiho let out a low hum and rubbed his thumbs against Kyung’s thighs, mouth twisting into a smirk. “I’m aiming for your bloodstream.” Mumbling a ‘shut up’, Kyung hit his chest playfully and ordered once more to be put down. With tension clear his request was granted, allowing him room to bump shoulders with Jiho as he made his way back to the pile of clothes waiting for him. “What would you do if I died from secondhand smoke, hmm?”

“I’d die the next day.” Jiho quipped without thought, eyes widening soon after as they met the others. Kyung snorted and flipped him off before turning his attention away, leaving Jiho to return to the couch, sinking into the cushions as embarassment embeddded itself into his rosy cheeks.

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I'm not good with pronouns- ; __ ; I'm sorry.