Jongin’s lips, Chanyeol decides for the umpteenth time, are a thousand times better when they’re on him where he can appreciate the warm softness as they brush along his skin. 

Jongin is quick to divest them of their shirts, tugging at the hem of Chanyeol's tank top before moving to pull off his own and presses their chests together. Hooking his fingers in the belt loops of Jongin's pants, Chanyeol tugs him closer as Jongin nudges him back until the backs of his knees bump into the bed frame, sending them toppling onto the mattress in a fit of laughter.  

He's spread out on the rumpled sheets of their bed as Jongin drapes himself all over him, ravishing his lips and mouthing all over his body. Giggling, Jongin moves up to level their faces together, just brushing the tips of their noses before leaning in to claim Chanyeol's lips again. Chanyeol can feel him sliding a hand down between them to fiddle with his belt buckle. Sighing into his mouth, he parts his lips, flicking his tongue into Jongin's mouth and along the roof, drawing out a shudder from him. He lifts his own hand to work at undoing the buttons of Jongin's pants, fumbling with the zipper. The second it's down, he slips a hand under the coarse material, running his fingers over the smooth skin of Jongin's hipbone, creeping under the elastic of his underwear to press his fingers into the soft skin of his . 

Jongin laughs before breathing out a ‘let me’ against his lips, breaking the kiss only to kick off his pants and tug Chanyeol's off too. Leaning back down, he presses back against him, skin on skin as he molds their lips together again, kissing him languidly, taking his time.  He on Chanyeol’s bottom lip, drawing out a moan before pulling back to kiss along his jaw, trailing his lips down his neck, along his chest, barely brushing his skin at all. Chanyeol shivers at the sensation; it’s heady, the way Jongin’s hot breath fans across his flushed skin as he mouths briefly along the smooth plane of his stomach. He can already feel his coming to life with every press of Jongin’s lips.

He pauses when he gets to his hips, just short of where Chanyeol really needs his attention to be. Jongin’s gazing at his hip bone intently, studying the inked image on his skin as the tip of his nose tickles Chanyeol lightly. He’s got a pretty pin-up girl lounging against his hip bone, long legs stretched out just below his navel.  Her busty chest rises slightly with every breath Chanyeol takes, snug in her tight purple corset as she gives a sultry smile. 
 
He’d gotten that done on the first night that they’d met, after getting drunk with a group of mutual friends and Chanyeol, in his inebriated state, had decided that getting a tattoo at 3am was a good idea. The concept of the tattoo holds no particular significance or meaning seeing as he had been too drunk to make any responsible decisions the night he got it. But it had been the first time he’d ever met Jongin, both of them laughing as Chanyeol led him with wobbly legs to the tattoo parlor up the street with a hand on his wrist. It was the first time he’d experienced Jongin’s crinkly eyes when he laughed, his entire face lighting up and he swore he would never get enough. Even after Jongin had laughed and sniggered for the rest of the week at his new, permanent ink, Chanyeol never grew tired.
 
Jongin's eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering, leaving the faintest butterfly kisses paired with presses of his lips to Chanyeol’s skin, mouthing along the length of the girl’s legs and back up to the tips of her perfectly curled hair. He grazes his teeth lightly just where the bump of his bone is, the corner of lips curling up when he hears Chanyeol's breath hitch in his chest. 

Mouthing his way up, he peppers kisses along the warm skin as he goes, sliding his arms up to find Chanyeol's hands against the sheets, threading their fingers together. Dragging his lips up along the plane of his stomach, Jongin stops at another tattoo, along the outline of the puzzle piece adjacent to Chanyeol’s navel.  He presses his lips right onto the centre of the piece, admiring the colours and shading of the art.

Chanyeol’s sister, Yura, has the other matching puzzle piece inked on her skin too.  They’re very close, him and his sister, well attuned to each other and emotionally coordinated enough that their sibling bond flows into the strongest friendship Chanyeol has in his life, despite the typical occasional bickering over trivial matters. She’s the first person he reaches out to for help when he needs it, knowing that he’ll always be welcome and will walk away without that feeling of being completely lost. 

Jongin lightly on the skin of his stomach, teasingly close to his belly button just to feel Chanyeol twitch underneath him. Untangling one of their hands, he grazes his fingers down Chanyeol’s side, over his pelvis, inching down to press his fingers into the soft skin of his inner thigh where he’s got a line in his own handwriting inscribed. Chanyeol shudders under Jongin’s lips, feeling the touch of his fingertips trailing along the letters down his thigh; “No matter how hard it is I will always be positive and smile like an idiot.”

It’s corny as , he knows, but it helped him through a time when he'd hit a bad low back in college, unsure of where to go and what to do with himself and his life; seeing the inked words on his skin were a reminder to keep him going. A reminder to shake away the dark thoughts that crossed his mind that he knew, deep down, he’d regret. 

He gasps when Jongin drags his nails up lightly, stopping short of his aching where it’s already dampening a spot in the fabric of his underwear with precum; he almost seems like he’s finally going to touch him, but Jongin simply pulls his fingers back down. Groaning, Chanyeol reaches up to swat at Jongin’s head but Jongin giggles against his skin, eyes crinkling as he catches Chanyeol’s wrist and moves up to sit right on his clothed crotch, sweet friction, before bringing his hand to his lips. 

Jongin’s completely still as he kisses Chanyeol’s knuckles, eyes closed like nothing needs his focus more than this. He moves his lips up along Chanyeol’s wrist, kissing the soft skin as he smoothes up and down the ridges of his ribs with his other hand.
Chanyeol watches him through half lidded eyes as Jongin’s lips trail closer to a picture stretching across his forearm; a crescent moon with a sun sitting on its elegant curve. It’s intricately drawn, beautiful, just like his mother. Chanyeol has always said that she’s his very own moon and sun, and that he doesn’t need their light or warmth or guidance when he has her. 

Jongin presses his lips to it lightly, a whisper of a kiss as he works his way from one point of the moon to the other, lingering on the sun. Chanyeol looks up at the way Jongin’s hair falls into his face; his bangs half covering his eyes, lips slick and a gorgeous shade of pink, his dark eyelashes fanning across the crest of his cheeks. He keeps his own hand fitted around the curve of Jongin’s waist, gently squeezing and the soft skin, unable to keep his hands off him when he looks so beautiful.  Bucking his hips up teasingly, effectively rubbing their crotches together lightly, he grins when Jongin’s eyes fly open with a hiss. He’s fighting back a smile though when he lowers his hand to lean against his chest, rolling his hips back down as he captures Chanyeol’s lips in a kiss, right into his mouth. He kisses him until Chanyeol’s lungs are burning for air and pulls away just as Chanyeol is painfully hard and rutting up against Jongin, desperate for more friction. 

Chuckling at the Chanyeol’s whine, Jongin kisses down the left side of his throat, along the column of flying birds he has trailing up his neck. After he got himself out of his college rut, Chanyeol readjusted. He decided with complete surety that all that was left for him was to go up, aim high, be free; to take a chance and go with it, to take a leap of faith. One of the birds is right behind his ear and Jongin nips at the sensitive spot, and along the skin, taking his time to draw out little noises and moans from Chanyeol’s lips, making him shudder even as he reaches up to twist his fingers in Jongin’s hair. Chanyeol feels a zing of arousal fray at his nerves, arching his neck back as Jongin takes a lobe between his teeth and on it, sinking his teeth into it lightly, making Chanyeol moan low in his throat. 

Jongin slides a hand up his chest, twisting a between his fingers teasingly and Chanyeol watches as he mouths his way down to his shoulder, finding the monochrome acoustic guitar drawn on his skin. Chanyeol’s father has always been endlessly supportive of him and his passion for music, even when he finally chose to pursue it as a career. His father had been the one to set his own old guitar down on Chanyeol’s little lap and taught him how to pluck the strings, and Chanyeol had instantly fallen in love with it. He's always the first to get his hands on any album that so much as mentions Chanyeol’s name, proudly displaying them in a little Chanyeol-appreciation corner in his restaurant. 

He follows Jongin’s movement when he releases the bud to drag his fingers along the ridge of his other shoulder, tracing the coloured image of a seated Rilakkuma bear perched just above his armpit. Getting the animated bear inked on his skin was something that Chanyeol had thought would be hilarious and simultaneously adorable to have. It always draws amused laughter or coos out of people when he displays it with comical pride but really it holds more depth than Chanyeol lets on. It grounds him in its own way. It reminds him to take a breather sometimes; bringing back his childish innocence when being an adult gets a little too much for a while. 

Jongin mouths along his collarbones, admiring his clavicles with his tongue and lips as he crosses to the other side of Chanyeol’s neck, gently rolling his hips all the while,making him keen with need. His deliberate slow pace is setting fire to Chanyeol's veins, bringing him so close to teetering over the edge but not quite.  Jongin up his throat, following the trail of music notes composing a line from Jazzyfact’s ‘Awake’; one of Chanyeol’s favourite songs.  He drops a kiss in between every note as he makes his way up, on a spot right under his jaw that makes Chanyeol’s hands fly up to cup the back of Jongin’s head, pressing him closer with an arm wound around his waist. 

He pulls back suddenly, though, stopping his ministrations as he pulls himself away from Chanyeol’s neck to look down at his chest. Chaneyol watches him studying it, seeing the way his gaze grows soft at the newest addition on his skin. He watches as Jongin traces his fingers, almost reverently, around the picture spreading along his chest, trailing down along the left side of his ribs.

This one he got done for Jongin.

He’d spent weeks mulling over it, planning it out and making sure he found the best tattoo artist he knew of even if he had to drive two towns over. It had taken nearly an entire day to get the ink job done with all the colouring, shading and detailed lines that needed to be drawn and he was achingly sore by the end of it.

He’d been happy with the result but incredibly nervous since he hadn’t breathed a word about it to Jongin. This piece was meant to be a surprise for their fourth anniversary of being together. It hadn’t been the most conventional gift but Jongin knows him better than anyone so he knows enough about what goes behind him getting inked. 

For all the variety and the seemingly random assortment of pictures and phrases he’s got trailing across his body, Chanyeol has one single rule and that is to never get a tattoo in anyone’s name unless he knows with absolute certainty that they are a permanent fixture in his life. His parents are a given as is his sister, all of whom mean the world to him. He knows they’ll always be there and he wants them to be. The ink on his skin in their name is like a picture frame, a fond reminder of the assurance.

So this piece was important. It was for Jongin, it’s got him all over it in the way the nimble ballet dancer leaps gracefully, arms reaching upwards towards the center of Chanyeol’s chest. The long, silk sashes of the dancer’s outfit flow down behind him, curling past the dancer’s leg to trail down Chanyeol’s ribs, like smoke in the dancer’s wake. The ends of the sashes fade away as they reach his waist, dissolving into emerald green leaves fluttering down his skin. 

For the very first time, Chanyeol had felt the bubbles of nerves in his stomach after getting inked, anxious about the permanence of it and hoping with all his heart that Jongin liked it and, more importantly, would understand what it meant, for both of them. He hadn’t shown it to him immediately, giving it a few days to heal and let swelling go down as his anxiety spiked up, waiting for the date of their anniversary to arrive. 

So when he’d gotten home after work earlier that day, the first thing he’d done was to lift the hem of his top right up to his chin and bare his chest to Jongin with half terrified eyes, too nervous to follow up with an explanation.  His heart nearly stopped when Jongin’s mouth had fallen open, gawping at his chest wordlessly for what seemed like hours. Chanyeol had been about to let his shirt drop, misery twisting in his gut when Jongin strode right up to him, palming his neck without a word and kissed him hard, ripping the air right out of his lungs.

That’s when he’d pushed Chanyeol back onto the bed, worshipping his tattoos with his mouth up until now where he’s holding himself up to look at the new picture again. 

Jongin’s eyes dart up to look at him before dropping quickly, almost shyly, when he catches Chanyeol’s eye, flushing right down to his neck which is ridiculous because they’re both hard, pressing their crotches together, separated only by a thin layer of fabric. Jongin finally hooks his fingers around the elastic of his underwear to tug it down. A grin breaks across his face when Chanyeol’s smacks his stomach, curving a little towards his right hipbone where he’s got a two inch tabby cat nuzzling into his skin. 

It’s sad that Chanyeol adores cats so much when he’s allergic to them. It had been during one of their first dates when they’d been walking down the street on a rainy day when he’d stopped abruptly to coo at a tattered box by the side of the street, holding a pair of wet, miserably sniffling kittens.  Chanyeol had eyed them wistfully from a distance, unable to get any closer to them when he was consumed by a sneezing attack. He had summoned up his most pitiful, pleading face to beg Jongin to bring the box with them, cheering when Jongin sighed in defeat, hoisting the box up into his arms. 

Naturally, their date had gotten cut short by the trip they’d had to make for the nearest shelter. After they left, Chanyeol had turned to Jongin apologetically but Jongin had simply curled his fingers into the collar of his sweater and pulled him down for a long kiss and all the apologies melted from his lips with the warmth of Jongin’s tongue. It was only moments after they separated that Chanyeol had bashfully lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal the tabby on his hip, eyes crinkling at Jongin’s fond laughter.

Jongin pulls off Chanyeol’s underwear, tugging off his own before pressing himself back against Chanyeol’s chest, straddling his hips and humming at the feel of skin on skin. 
Fishing out lube and condoms from under the pillow, he pushes the little bottle into Chanyeol’s hands with a meaningful look.  He buries his face in Chanyeol’s neck, kissing it, marking it, on the spots he knows make Chanyeol fall apart.

Quickly coating his fingers with a generous amount of lube, Chanyeol reaches up behind Jongin, probing tentatively at his entrance and feeling his entire body twitch against him, before slowly pushing one digit in. Jongin moans into his skin, breathing hard as he braces himself with an elbow on the mattress, fingers clenched in the sheets. Pushing another finger in, Chanyeol works him open slowly before fitting a third, nudging Jongin’s face up with his nose to kiss away the frown pinching his features.  His free hand slides up the arch of Jongin’s back, smoothing it up along his spine before sliding it down to his , grabbing onto the soft skin and spreading his cheeks to help push his fingers in deeper. 

Jongin gasps into his mouth and moans needily before he pushes himself up with shaky arms, bracketing Chanyeol’s hips with his thighs and shuddering when Chanyeol pulls his fingers out. His hair falls into his eyes, damp with sweat but he reaches out for the packets lying on the sheets beside them and rips one open, making quick work of rolling it down Chanyeol’s before popping the cap to the lube bottle to slick down his shaft. 

Balancing himself with his arms on Chanyeol’s chest, he lifts himself up as Chanyeol holds him steady with a hand on his hip, using the other to align his with Jongin’s entrance. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Jongin inhales and sinks down slowly on his length, eye clenched shut as he bites down harder onto his lip. Chanyeol groans at the tight heat, his fingers clenching around Jongin’s side as he struggles not to move before Jongin is ready. Reaching up for his face, Chanyeol presses his thumb below the swell of his lip, coaxing it out from between his teeth before he draws blood.  Jongin sits still for a moment, body rigid as he tries to adjust to the stretch before pushing himself up, leaving only the tip of Chanyeol’s inside him, and slams down, drawing out loud moans from the both of them. 

He sets up a pace, rolling his hips and bouncing in his lap as he throws his head back,  arching his spine when Chanyeol s back up, pushing in deeper. He steadies himself, leaning back to curl his fingers around Chanyeol’s ankles and uses them to push forward, ing himself harder on Chanyeol’s . His nails dig into Chanyeol’s skin, leaving marks along the tattoo of the Chinese symbol he’s gotten tattooed on the inside of his ankle.  Turns out the symbol actually meant ‘mistake’ as opposed to ‘dragon’ which Chanyeol had been going for. He’d worn it around proudly, confused about Luhan and Yixing's constant sniggering until they finally broke it to him. Chanyeol had been sufficiently devastated, upset at himself for being so careless by not triple checking and having to carry this brand of shame on what had been a perfectly good patch of skin, now wasted. Jongin had spent days laughing about it but he made it up to him by being doubly affectionate, marathoning his favourite series with him and giving him the best comfort, snuggle of his life. The tattoo began to connote good memories as the sting of shame gradually wore off.

He looks breathtakingly gorgeous right now, Chanyeol thinks, with his jaw hanging open, lips forming an ‘o’ and eyelashes fluttering as the moans tumble unrestrained from his lips. Chanyeol  pistons his hips up faster, wanting to rip out louder whines and cries of his name from Jongin’s throat as he drags his fingers up and down the soft, plush skin of Jongin’s thighs. The way Jongin clenches around him is delicious, dizzying as his wandering fingers leave trails of electricity on his skin, shooting up his nerves, linking constellations of fire between his tattoos. He rolls his hips down in circles, never taking his eyes off Chanyeol’s.  His muscles are pulled taut and Chanyeol can see the way his neglected twitches with need. There’s a pretty flush painting Jongin’s cheeks dipping all the way down to his chest and Chanyeol needs to be closer. 

He sits up with effort, groaning when Jongin clenches tighter at the sudden movement, gasping as he’s nearly thrown off balance. With him in his lap, Chanyeol snakes an arm around his waist and presses him in closer, nosing at his neck as Jongin hooks an arm around his shoulder and clings, clutching at his back. 

His first from this position has Jongin keening, mouthing desperately at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, muffling his whine. Chanyeol can feel him dragging his nails along the phoenix on his back, pressing into the fiery wings on his shoulder blades as he clings. The ten hour back piece means strength to him, the push for creativity and transformation that he needs to move forward and create as a music composer.  The blazing wings span across his shoulder blades, the flaming feathery tail fanning across his lower back just falling shy of his waist line. The bird’s brilliant crimson head arches up, curling up the top of his spine and climbing up the back of his neck as the flames just behind his ear.

It’s hard to set up a rhythm like this but when he finally curls his fingers around Jongin’s caught between them, it has him clamping even harder around Chanyeol, an explosion of pleasure spiking in the pit of his stomach as Jongin cries out, shuddering in his arms. 
Chanyeol pumps up his shaft, trying to keep the pace of s in time with Jongin’s grinds, when Jongin finds the sensitive spot behind his ear again. 

He’s close, feeling the swirling tendrils of arousal and release burning in his stomach, so close. He can tell that Jongin is right there with him by the wrecked expression on his face, his ragged breathing and the tightening of his fingers on his back. 

He coaxes Jongin’s face up from the crook of his neck to capture his lips, breathing him in, drinking in his moans.  Hooking his hands under Jongin’s thighs, Chanyeol hoists him up as he folds his legs back and draws himself up on his knees. He sets Jongin down on the sheets, never separating from his lips as he on his tongue, reveling in his whimpers. 

Breaking off with a string of saliva still connecting their lips, Chanyeol settles comfortably between Jongin’s thighs, spreading them wider and hooking his arms around the back of his knees. He pushes them up against his chest and s in deep, groaning as Jongin lets out a broken cry and grapples at his shoulders, arching his back off the mattress. He bares his neck for Chanyeol, staring at him through half lidded eyes with his lip caught between his teeth again. Pitching forward as Jongin’s arms tighten around his neck, Chanyeol rocks into him harder, hitting the spot again and again as he kisses up the column of his throat, feeling the vibrations of his cries and moans beneath his lips. 

He balances himself up on his elbows on either side of Jongin’s head, as he quickens the pace of his hips, swallowing Jongin’s choked cry when he goes rigid, coming in long streaks all over his own stomach.  Chanyeol follows moments later with a long, drawn out groan as he keeps on ing , milking out his release. 

They slump down on the mattress bonelessly, chests heaving as they come down from their high. Chanyeol grabs a bundle of tissues from the nightstand to clean them both off, tying the soiled into a knot and tossing it in the general direction of the bin. 
Jongin tucks himself into Chanyeol’s side, trailing his fingertips lazily along the tattoos on his skin again. 

It may look meaningless, random scribbles, doodles and drawings strewn across his body but it’s far from it. It’s essentially a canvas of his life, a movie reel that goes back to his early teens when he was young and stupid up till his mid-twenties when he got inexplicably more stupid but everything meant a whole world more to him. He’s got a bigger story behind all of them, each growing more meaningful with every ink job he gets.  

Jongin lingers on the ink over his heart, tracing the shading of dark sashes trailing down Chanyeol’s ribs.

“So,” Jongin starts, his voice cracking before he clears his throat and tries again; “It’s really for…for me?”

His voice is thick with emotion, but he keeps his face buried firmly in Chanyeol’s neck.
 
“Yeah,” Chanyeol murmurs, knowing that Jongin understands exactly what he means by all of it “I guess I want to be there when you get your first wrinkle.”

Jongin giggles, puffs of breath fanning against Chanyeol’s sweaty skin. 

“So I take it you like it?” Chanyeol grins, running a hand up Jongin’s back lazily, thumbing along the ridges of his spine. He’s almost positive about the answer, if the fantastic is anything to go by.

“I love it,” Jongin’s words are muffled by Chanyeol’s shoulder but the wobble in his voice is unmistakable

“Are you…are you cry- oof!”  he’s cut off when Jongin jabs him in the side with a muttered ‘shut up, I’m not’ as he buries his face impossibly deeper into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. 

Laughing, Chanyeol coos at him, earning himself another jab which only makes him laugh harder much to Jongin’s disdain. He curls his arm tighter around Jongin’s shoulders, keeping him tucked into his side with a content sigh. 

It’s not a proposal, not yet, but it’s a promise and he intends to hold true to it.

LJ